An Isle of Man Ghostly Cozy Collection - DEF

by Diana Xarissa

  “It seems farfetched,” Fenella said with a sigh.

  “But it’s worth considering,” Mona argued. “Especially as Anne Marie was the first to die and she was killed the same way Herbert was.”

  Fenella nodded and then jumped when the phone rang.

  “I only have about two minutes, but I wanted to ring to make sure you’re okay,” Daniel’s voice came down the line.

  “I’m fine, just very sad,” Fenella told him. “And a little bit worried that someone very clever is murdering people for some reason we don’t understand.”

  “All three cases look very much like accidents,” Daniel told her. “Aside from the fact that the victims all knew one another, there’s nothing to link them.”

  “Except for me,” Fenella said glumly.

  “Yes, well, Mark is keen on pointing that out for some reason, even though he knows you didn’t have anything to do with any of the deaths.”

  Fenella bit her tongue. Daniel may have been convinced of her innocence, but she wasn’t sure that Mark Hammersmith was.

  “Anyway, Mark is going to send me a copy of his notes. I understand he talked to you this morning about the latest death?”

  “Yeah, I had lunch with the woman yesterday.”

  Daniel sighed. “How do you keep getting mixed up in these things?” he asked. “I mean, I’ve never…” he trailed off and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to be in the middle of this any more than I want you there. I really do have to go, but I’ll ring you later, after I’ve read Mark’s report.”

  “I have plans for dinner tonight,” Fenella said, wishing she didn’t have to tell him about Paul.

  “So maybe you should ring me when you get home from your evening out,” Daniel suggested. “Or better yet, text me. If I’m still up, we can talk then.”

  “That sounds great,” she replied. She opened her mouth to add something, she wasn’t sure what, but she heard a loud click before she could speak.

  “And he hung up on me,” she muttered.

  “He’s jealous,” Mona said. “He did tell you to date other men while he was away. He shouldn’t be surprised that you’re doing just that.”

  “We’re just friends,” Fenella said. “He needed to get back to work, anyway.”

  It was nearly time for lunch, so Fenella flipped through a magazine for a short while before feeding herself and Katie. Her mind was racing around too much for her to settle into her research, so after lunch she took a walk into the center of Douglas. There wasn’t anything she needed, but she enjoyed looking through the shops and even tried on a few pairs of shoes before returning home.

  “What should I wear tonight?” she asked Mona as she stood in front of the woman’s wardrobe with both doors open.

  “Don’t waste anything too nice on young Paul,” Mona said. “You’re only having dinner with him because you miss Daniel.”

  “That’s not true,” Fenella protested. “I’m having dinner with him because he seems very nice. He’s also quite attractive.”

  “Yes, well, in that case, maybe you should wear the little red dress in the corner,” Mona suggested.

  Fenella pulled the dress out and held it up. “It’s a bit short,” she said. “And rather low-cut at the front.”

  “It’s very sexy,” Mona agreed. “But you do find the man attractive. You should want to look sexy.”

  “There’s a difference between finding him attractive and wanting to make him see me as a sex object,” Fenella told her. “I don’t think this is at all appropriate.”

  “What about the blue one?” Mona asked as Fenella pushed the red dress back into place.

  Fenella pulled out the next dress along the rack. It was much more modest, with a knee-length skirt and a pretty draped neckline. The color seemed to flatter Fenella. “I like this,” she exclaimed. “I’ll try it on.”

  “The matching shoes are in the bottom drawer,” Mona told her.

  Fenella pulled out shoes that matched the blue in the dress perfectly. “You must have spent a fortune on shoes,” she said as she slipped the dress over her head.

  “Max liked me to look good,” Mona replied. “He never once complained about buying matching shoes or handbags for my dresses.”

  “Is there a matching handbag?” Fenella asked as she studied herself in the mirror. The dress fit beautifully, showcasing her curves without looking the least little bit racy.

  “Of course there’s a matching handbag,” Mona said. “In the drawer under the shoes.”

  Fenella found the bag. It was a perfect color match. “It’s gorgeous,” she told Mona.

  “Yes, it was always one of my favorites,” Mona said. “Timothy, who made so many of my most wonderful clothes for me, had a friend called Samuel who worked with leather. He made the most exquisite bags and shoes for me to match whatever Timothy dreamt up.”

  “I can’t believe how closely the colors match,” Fenella remarked.

  “He could do anything with dyes,” Mona told her. “You should put your hair up,” she added as Fenella sat down to apply her makeup. “There’s a clip in the bottom drawer that goes with the dress.”

  Fenella found the clip and twisted it into her hair. After she’d redone her makeup she put everything she thought she might need into the matching handbag. “I’m ready,” she said to Mona. “But I’m not looking forward to this.”

  “Why not?” Mona asked.

  “Do you think Paul could be behind everything?”

  “You mean, do I think he killed Anne Marie, Margaret, and Hannah? No, I don’t,” Mona said. “If he wanted to kill his father’s former lovers, he could have done so years ago. I’m sure he knew about them.”

  “Maybe he was just waiting until his father died,” Fenella suggested.

  Mona frowned. “I hadn’t thought of that,” she said. “Maybe you should cancel dinner.”

  A knock on the door made both women jump. “Too late,” Fenella said nervously.

  Paul looked very handsome in a dark grey suit. “You look wonderful,” he told Fenella. “That dress looks as if it were made for you.”

  Fenella opened her mouth to tell him that it was Mona’s, but stopped herself. If the man really had been slightly obsessed with her aunt, she wasn’t sure she wanted him to know.

  “I hope it’s okay with you if this is a fairly quick dinner,” he said as he escorted her out of the apartment and down the corridor.

  “Of course,” Fenella said. “I hope nothing is wrong.”

  “My mother is in hospital,” the man replied. “I told her I’d come back to see her later tonight.”

  “We can forget about dinner,” Fenella said quickly. “Or rather, reschedule for when your mother is well again.”

  “I have to eat, and selfishly, I’d rather eat in the company of a beautiful woman than on my own.”

  Fenella blushed. “Only if you’re sure,” she said.

  “I had planned on taking you to one of my favorite restaurants for five courses and wine, but I’m afraid that’s a bit too ambitious under the circumstances. I hope you don’t mind if we just go somewhere nearby?”

  “We can go anywhere you want.”

  “You look far too lovely to take to a pub, even one that does good food,” he said. “But in the interest of time, how about the Chinese place down the street? They’re usually very fast.”

  “That sounds great,” Fenella said.

  As the restaurant in question was only a short distance away, they walked. It was about half full when they arrived and they were seated, at Paul’s request, at a quiet table in the back.

  “I hope your mother is okay,” Fenella said after they’d ordered drinks and food.

  “I think she’ll be fine,” Paul said. “My father’s death has hit her incredibly hard. I know Paulette told you about the dreams she’s been having about him leaving behind memoirs that detailed his infidelities. I’m afraid my mother is having trouble telling her dreams from reality. Pau
lette has been doing her best, but Mother can’t seem to sleep without the tablets now and Paulette is afraid to give them to her. Mother’s doctor thought a night or two in hospital might help.”

  “So you’re sure the memoirs were all just a bad dream?” Fenella asked.

  Paul shrugged. “I’m in an awkward position,” he admitted. “I can’t find any trace of anything like that on my father’s computer, but, well, the thing is, I wasn’t surprised when Paulette told me what she’d found.”

  “You knew your father was writing his memoirs?”

  “No, not at all,” Paul replied. He stopped as the waiter delivered their soft drinks. “Sorry about this,” he said to Fenella, nodding toward the drinks. “I wanted to wine and dine you, but I’m driving.”

  “It’s fine,” Fenella told him. “I don’t need wine to have a good time.”

  Paul grinned. “It certainly helps, though,” he laughed. “But where was I? Oh, yes, my father and his memoirs. No, I didn’t know he was planning to write them, but then, he wasn’t, was he? That was just my mother’s fancy. No, I knew he’d been unfaithful, or I should say, I suspected that he’d been unfaithful.”

  “I see.”

  Paul sighed. “My father didn’t spend much time at home with us,” he explained. “Paula was, well, difficult, and my mother was devoted to her. Paulette did everything she could to help with Paula’s care, but I was rather in the way. As soon as I was old enough, I started spending as much time as I could with my father. Mostly I just sat around his office, doing my schoolwork. Sometimes my father would give me little jobs to do around the office, but mostly I just wanted to be there so I wouldn’t have to be at home.”

  “I’m sorry. That sounds like an unhappy way to spend your childhood.”

  “In some ways, but in other ways it was quite good. I learned a lot about running the business and I was able to get to know my father better than I would have otherwise. By the time I was sixteen, my father started taking me with him to parties, which felt like a huge privilege. All my school friends were jealous, that was for sure.”

  “And that’s how you found out your father was cheating?”

  “At first I didn’t understand it. I was still pretty naïve at sixteen, but it gradually dawned on me that some of the women in the crowd were a little too friendly with him. A lot of it was just for show; some of the women seemed to take great delight in flirting with other men in front of their husbands, but over time, and I’m talking years here, I began to realize that there was more than just flirting going on, at least with some of the women.”

  “Were you tempted to tell your mother?” Fenella asked. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she flushed. “I’m sorry. That’s an incredibly rude question,” she said quickly.

  “Rude, maybe, but understandable,” he replied.

  “Here we are,” the waiter said. He put plates full of steaming hot food in front of each of them. “Do you need anything else right now?”

  “We’re good,” Paul said, waving the man away.

  “It looks delicious,” Fenella said, ignoring the chopsticks she’d been given and picking up her fork. They ate silently for a few minutes before Paul cleared his throat.

  “I did think about telling my mother, but it felt as if that would have broken some sort of unspoken bond between my father and me,” he said. “He included me in his parties and let me see what he was doing, but I couldn’t tell anyone what I saw. That was the unspoken agreement.”

  Fenella nodded. “That makes sense,” she said.

  “Later, when I was old enough to really understand what was happening, I made the conscious decision not to tell my mother. Their marriage wasn’t a happy one, but I don’t think she ever knew that he was unfaithful. It wasn’t my place to destroy any illusions she held about my father.”

  “How is everything?” the waiter asked.

  “Fine,” Fenella said quickly, although she hadn’t really tasted anything that she’d eaten. She’d been too caught up in Paul’s story to notice the food.

  “I have to believe that she knew,” Paul said as the waiter walked away.

  “Why?”

  “Because of her dream,” Paul explained. “Maybe she didn’t know, but I’m sure she must have suspected. Otherwise, why would she dream that she’d found proof of his infidelity?”

  Fenella nodded slowly. She still wasn’t convinced that the story about the memoirs was just a dream, but if it was, then what Paul was saying made sense. “So you think she suspected, but never said anything until the story finally came out in her dream?”

  “It certainly seems that way,” Paul said. “But of course the whole thing has put me in an awkward position. When Paulette first told me what Mother had found, I tried to sound shocked, but I don’t think I really carried it off. When I couldn’t find the files on the computer, I got the impression that Paulette thought I’d hidden them to try to protect our father’s reputation.”

  “Would you have done that, given the opportunity?”

  “I don’t know,” Paul said, shrugging. “I might have been tempted to, because both my mother and sister were so upset. If anything, I think Paulette was more upset than my mother. As I said, I believe she must have suspected, but I’m pretty sure that Paulette had no idea.”

  “And now some of the women from that social circle have died suddenly,” Fenella said, trying to sound casual.

  “That’s not helping my mother’s state of mind either,” Paul said. “She had a very strange reaction to Anne Marie’s death.”

  “Strange?”

  “I didn’t see her until the next day, but when I offered my sympathies, she told me not to bother, that Anne Marie was no friend of hers. Of course, at that point she still thought that Anne Marie had had an affair with my father.”

  “And did Anne Marie have an affair with your father?” Fenella knew the answer, but she wondered if Paul did.

  “I think so,” he replied. “Anyway, Margaret’s death was a shock, but she’s taken Hannah’s very badly. That’s part of the reason why she’s in hospital, really. Paulette couldn’t calm her down after she told her about Hannah.”

  “I am sorry.”

  Paul shrugged. “I just hope there aren’t any more accidents,” he said. “It’s strange that they’re all happening at once, so soon after my father’s death, but I suppose the women in question are all at an age where they’re more prone to such things, aren’t they? My mother nearly took a tumble down the stairs at my house a week or so ago, and Paulette told me that she slipped in the bath the other day as well. We don’t let her drive anymore, so at least that’s one thing we don’t have to worry about.”

  “How about pudding?” the waiter asked.

  “You want to get to Noble’s,” Fenella said to Paul.

  “We have time for pudding, if you’d like,” Paul told her. “I think I need some bread and butter pudding if I’m going to be spending hours with my mother and sister after this.” Fenella opted for the chocolate sponge with warm chocolate sauce.

  “The police have been asking me a lot of questions about the three women,” Fenella said, choosing her words carefully. “I spent time with all of them not long before they died. I’ve been wondering if all three deaths really were accidents.”

  “What else could they have been? No one commits suicide by falling down a flight of stairs, surely?”

  “But maybe Anne Marie killed herself,” Fenella suggested. “The only other option, I suppose, is murder.”

  Paul frowned at her. The waiter delivered their desserts before he spoke again. “That’s why your name was familiar,” he said after he’d taken a bite. “You found Alan Collins’s body and that body on the ferry as well. I knew I’d heard the name before.”

  Fenella flushed. “I was hoping people would have forgotten about all of that by now,” she said.

  “But just because you’ve stumbled across a few murder victims doesn’t mean that everyone who dies unexpect
edly has been murdered. Accidents do happen.”

  “Of course they do. I was just telling you how I felt after talking to the police,” Fenella said. “They asked me a lot of questions, just like in a murder investigation.”

  “I’m sure they were just being thorough,” Paul said dismissively. “There hasn’t been anything in the local paper about any of the deaths being suspicious, and the local paper would be all over the story if they had any hint of anything. They love murder cases. Murder sells a lot of papers.”

  Fenella finished her cake before she replied. “As I said, it was just an impression I got. I hope you’re right. While accidents are sad, they aren’t nearly as worrying as murders.”

  “And on that rather odd note, I think we’d better call it a night,” Paul said. He waved to their waiter and handed him his credit card. A moment later the waiter was back and Paul signed the receipt.

  “That was very good,” Fenella said as they walked out of the building. “I’m going to have to come back here again soon.”

  “It was good, even if the conversation wasn’t exactly what I’d hoped for,” Paul said.

  “I am sorry,” Fenella told him.

  “Next time, I want to hear all about you,” he said. “We won’t talk about my family and our little difficulties at all.”

  “My life story won’t take long,” Fenella laughed. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk about yours as well.”

  The walk back to Fenella’s door was a short one. She opened the door and then turned. “Thank you for dinner,” she said.

  “It was my pleasure. I’ll ring you in a few days, once I know for sure what’s happening with my mother. I’d really like to do this again without all the talk about death and murder.”

  “That sounds good,” Fenella said.

  The man bent down and gave her a quick kiss. “I really do have to get to Noble’s,” he said softly. “Otherwise, I’d be finding ways to prolong the evening.”

  “Go and see your mother,” Fenella told him. “She needs to be your first priority at the moment.”