An Isle of Man Ghostly Cozy Collection - DEF

by Diana Xarissa

  Fenella pulled out her phone and pressed the nine button three times. When the call was answered, she told the operator what was happening. “We were meant to be meeting a friend at his apartment, but when we got here the door was open. We’ve knocked, but not gone inside. He isn’t answering the door.”

  “Have you tried ringing him?” the woman asked. “He may have fallen asleep or something. Do you have his mobile number?”

  “I do,” Fenella said, feeling stupid for not thinking of that herself. She handed Lance’s card to Peter. “Try calling him,” she told the man.

  A minute later they could hear an unpleasant ringtone coming from somewhere inside the apartment.

  “We can hear the phone ringing, but no one is answering,” Fenella told the operator.

  “I’ll send the nearest constable. Please remain where you are and do not go into the flat.”

  “Yes, we will.”

  Fenella could hear the woman speaking to someone, but she couldn’t make out exactly what she was saying. A moment later she was back. “What can you tell me about the man you are visiting?” she asked.

  “His name is Lance Thomas. He’s just moved to the island from across, although he claims to have grown up on the island. What else do you want to know?”

  “How old is he? Does he have any health issues that you are aware of? Does he live alone? Do you know anything about his next of kin?”

  The last question caused Fenella to gasp. “No, I don’t know anything about next of kin. I think he’s probably in his sixties, and he seems to be in perfectly good health, but I don’t know anything for certain. As far as I know, he lives alone, although he does have some friends on the island.”

  “Ah, Ms. Woods, I was just thinking the other day that I hadn’t seen you in a while,” the uniformed constable who was walking down the corridor said.

  Fenella flushed. “The constable is here now,” she told the operator before she disconnected the call. “Good evening, Constable Corlett,” she said to the man she’d first met when she’d stumbled over a dead body the day after her arrival on the island.

  “Good evening. What’s the problem tonight, then?” he asked.

  “We were meant to be meeting the apartment’s owner here to go and get a drink at the pub,” Fenella explained. “We were here right around seven and he didn’t answer his door, so we went over to the pub to see if he’d gone there instead of waiting for us here.”

  “The Tale and Tail?” the constable asked.

  “No, the pub next door,” Fenella replied.

  The man wrote something in his notebook and then nodded. “And then what happened?”

  “We came back over here and found the apartment door open,” she replied. “We’ve knocked and shouted the man’s name, but he hasn’t come to the door.”

  “So you rang the police,” he concluded.

  “After everything that’s happened since I’ve been on the island, that seemed the wisest course of action,” Fenella told him.

  The man raised an eyebrow and then nodded. “What’s the man’s name?”

  “Lance Thomas,” Fenella replied.

  “Do either of you have anything to add to Fenella’s version of events?” he asked Shelly and Peter.

  “No, nothing at all,” Peter said. Shelly simply shook her head.

  “Mr. Thomas? Lance Thomas? This is Constable Corlett with the Isle of Man Constabulary. Are you okay? I’m coming inside now to check on you. Are you okay?”

  Fenella and Shelly held hands as they watched the man walk into the apartment. Peter put his arms around both of them when the constable turned around suddenly and began to walk back out of the apartment. His face was pale and he had his phone in his hand as he crossed back into the corridor.

  “I need backup, a full crime scene team and the inspector on call,” he was saying into his phone. “I have three witnesses to be interviewed.”

  “He’s dead, isn’t he?” Fenella said in a flat voice after the man had dropped his phone back in his pocket.

  “That’s not for me to determine,” the man replied. “I’m going to ask you to remain here for the time being, however.”

  Fenella wanted to argue. She wanted to cry or shout or hit something. Shelly was sobbing softly in Peter’s arms. The urge to call Daniel was almost overwhelming as the constable got busy on his phone, sending and replying to text messages.

  “How’s your wife?” she asked the man when he took a break from his phone.

  “She’s fine, thanks,” he replied.

  “And the baby? He’s called Odin, if I remember correctly.”

  “You do, and he’s good. He’s already sitting up by himself and babbling constantly. Jenny has taken an extended maternity leave so that she can be with him all the time, and we both think he’s going to be very bright.”

  “How wonderful,” Fenella said mechanically. She was happy for the young man, really, but the awfulness of what was going on around them made it difficult for her to focus.

  “I have a few pictures, if you’d like to see them,” the constable said.

  “Oh, yes, please,” Fenella replied. She was flipping through them, making appropriate remarks, when the elevator doors opened and Inspector Mark Hammersmith stepped out.

  “Why am I not surprised to see you here?” he asked Fenella. “It seems as if every time a body turns up on the island, you’re involved in some way.”

  Fenella sighed. Surely there must have been dozens of police inspectors who could have taken the call about Lance. Why did it have to be Mark Hammersmith who’d turned up? They’d met a month earlier when a number of women whom Fenella had just met began dying in quick succession. The inspector was young, in his mid-thirties, and attractive, with brown hair and green eyes, but Fenella was sure that he didn’t like her. Daniel had been quick to defend Fenella when Inspector Hammersmith had suggested that Fenella might be the only connection between the unexplained deaths the previous month. If Daniel was now involved with someone else, he might not be so quick to defend her again.

  “What do we have?” the inspector asked the constable.

  Constable Corlett looked at Fenella and her friends and then stepped away from them with the inspector on his heels. They talked in low voices so that only the odd word reached Fenella’s ears. That was more than enough, as far as she was concerned.

  “…body…multiple stab…witnesses…been drinking…”

  Fenella looked over at Shelly, who was still standing in Peter’s arms. He held out his hand and pulled her over to join them.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, sliding an arm around her.

  “I don’t know,” she replied.

  “I’m going to ask you not to speak to one another,” the inspector said firmly. “I’ll take your statements shortly.”

  Fenella felt tears begin to well up in her eyes. Lance was dead, or maybe someone else was dead. She was about to be questioned about yet another murder and Daniel was far away and unable to help. Even more worrying, he might be unwilling to help. Fenella wasn’t sure she would blame him if he refused to have anything further to do with her.

  A woman who constantly tripped over dead bodies probably wasn’t the sort of woman a police inspector would want to get involved with. The woman who’d been with him when he’d called was probably another police inspector. She probably never found dead bodies or wandered into missing person cases. She was probably younger, thinner, and smarter, too. A tear slid down Fenella’s cheek as the elevator doors opened again.

  The crime scene team entered the apartment with Mark Hammersmith on their heels. Fenella leaned against Peter and tried to think of something, anything that would help her stop crying. A vision of Mona shaking her head over Fenella’s latest misadventure helped.

  “Have you been drinking?” Constable Corlett asked them a few minutes later.

  “Unfortunately, we found the open door on our way to the pub, not on the way home again,” Peter said. “I haven’t had
a drink in days.”

  “Shelly and I shared a bottle of wine over dinner,” Fenella said, suddenly feeling guilty, even though she told herself she shouldn’t.

  “Right, we’ll talk to you first, then,” the constable told Peter. “If you’d all like to come with me, we’re borrowing an office downstairs.”

  They rode the elevator to the lobby in silence. Josh Witters was waiting for them when the doors slid open.

  “If you’d like to come with me,” he told them.

  They followed him across the lobby and through the “Staff Only” door.

  “You’re welcome to use any and all of the space here for tonight,” he told the constable. “We’d appreciate it if you’d confine yourself to the one office during office hours, though.”

  Constable Corlett nodded. “We appreciate your cooperation,” he said. “We’ll just wait here for the inspector.”

  Josh gave Fenella what looked like a sympathetic smile and then disappeared back into the lobby. The constable looked around. There was a small waiting area with a few chairs right inside the door.

  “We may as well sit down,” he told them. “I’m sure the inspector will be here soon.”

  They’d only just taken seats when the door swung open. Inspector Hammersmith walked in with a second uniformed constable. Fenella was sure she’d met the other constable, but she couldn’t remember his name or when they’d met. He sat down next to Shelly while Constable Corlett got up and crossed to the inspector. After a short conversation, the inspector spoke.

  “Mr. Cannell, I’ll begin with you, please,” he said.

  Peter stood up and followed the man down the short corridor into one of the offices. Constable Corlett was right behind Peter, and he shut the door behind the trio.

  Fenella sat back in her seat and sighed. “What a mess,” she said softly.

  “I’m sorry, but the inspector would prefer it if you didn’t talk while you wait,” the constable said.

  “I’m sorry,” Fenella told him. She shut her eyes and tried to think. A short while ago she’d felt completely sober, but now she could feel the effects of the wine she’d drunk with dinner. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but if she could have gone back, she would have stuck to soft drinks while they ate. She struggled to get her thoughts in order before it was her turn with the inspector.

  They’d knocked on Lance’s door at quarter past seven and no one had answered. It couldn’t have taken them more than ten minutes, or maybe fifteen, to check the pub next door and walk back. By the time they’d returned, the door had been left open. Were they gone long enough for Lance to get home, get himself killed, and for the killer to get away? It didn’t seem possible, but if that wasn’t how it happened, the killer must have been hiding in Lance’s apartment while she and the others were knocking on the door.

  When she felt as if her head was spinning from that train of thought, another idea popped up. Was it even Lance who was dead? Maybe Lance had killed someone else. For some reason, Fenella found that she quite liked that idea. The thought that maybe Neil Hicks was dead almost made her smile. She hadn’t wanted anything bad to happen to the man, she’d simply wanted him to leave her alone, but if someone had to be dead, well, she’d rather it was Neil than Lance, although she wasn’t sure why. She hadn’t liked either man, really and Lance was making Shelly miserable.

  Before she could spend too much time on that thought, another question occurred to her. Why had Lance wanted them to meet him at his apartment rather than the pub? What might he have been planning? More questions about Lance, his friends, and the dead body all crowded around Fenella’s brain. She was starting to get a headache by the time Constable Corlett escorted Peter out of the office.

  “Thank you for your time,” the constable said. “We’ll be in touch if we need any additional information.”

  Peter looked over at Shelly and Fenella, but the constable quickly escorted him back out to the building’s lobby. Shelly sighed and rubbed her temples.

  “Are you okay?” Fenella asked, earning herself a stern look from both constables.

  “Fine,” Shelly replied in a resigned tone.

  “The inspector is ready for you, Mrs. Quirk,” Constable Corlett said.

  As Shelly walked away, Fenella’s mobile buzzed. She pulled it out of her handbag and glanced at the screen.

  What now? the message from Daniel said.

  Feeling as if it wouldn’t be a good idea to reply just then, Fenella put the phone back into her bag. “Have we met before?” she asked the constable.

  “I don’t know that we’ve met, exactly, but I certainly know who you are,” was the disquieting reply.

  “Inspector Hammersmith seems like a very competent investigator,” Fenella said after several minutes of uncomfortable silence.

  “All of the inspectors in Douglas are excellent,” the man replied.

  “Of course they are,” Fenella said quickly. “It’s just that I’ve spoken to Inspector Hammersmith before.”

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” the man said softly.

  Fenella flushed. “Constable Corlett’s baby is getting big quickly,” she said, hoping that the man might be willing to fill the silence with useless chatter.

  “Is she?”

  “She’s a he. I mean, the constable and his wife have a son.”

  “I don’t really know Constable Corlett,” the man replied. “He usually works with Inspector Robinson. With Inspector Robinson away, however, Constable Corlett has been filling in all around the station.”

  “I didn’t realize that inspectors choose their constables like that.”

  The man shrugged. “They do sometimes.”

  Fenella nodded. She didn’t really care, but at the moment she was happy to talk about anything other than the dead man in apartment 312. “Do you usually work with Inspector Hammersmith, then?” she asked.

  “No, I’m a patrol officer, mostly. I was pulled in on this because I patrol the promenade. They just needed someone to babysit the witnesses and I was available.”

  “But now that I’m the only one left, surely you can get back out on patrol,” Fenella suggested.

  “I’ll stay here until I’m told otherwise.”

  “Well, then, tell me about yourself. Are you from the island?”

  The man frowned. “I don’t think that’s any of your concern.”

  Fenella sighed. “I was just being friendly. Never mind.”

  The man shrugged. “I’m meant to sit with you to make sure you don’t talk to anyone or use your phone. I’m not meant to be friendly.”

  Fenella was saved having to reply by the reappearance of Shelly and Constable Corlett. It was obvious that Shelly had been crying and Fenella nearly jumped up to pull her friend into a hug. The constable stayed between Fenella and Shelly, though, presumably to stop her from doing any such thing.

  “Thank you. I’m sure Inspector Hammersmith will be in touch soon,” the constable said to Shelly.

  She nodded and then let the man escort her back toward the lobby. In the doorway, Shelly glanced back at Fenella and gave her a weak smile.

  “The inspector is ready for you now,” Constable Corlett told Fenella. She stood up and took a few steps forward while the two constables talked behind her. As Constable Corlett took her arm, she noticed the other constable disappearing into the lobby.

  “Ah, Ms. Woods. Have a seat,” the inspector said, gesturing toward the small and uncomfortable-looking chair across the desk from him. The constable slid into a similar chair at the corner of the desk and picked up a pen. His notebook was already in place in front of him.

  “Before we begin, I should tell you that Inspector Daniel Robinson is also a part of this conversation. He’s on speaker on my mobile.”

  “Hello, Fenella,” Daniel said. His voice sounded both tired and annoyed to Fenella.

  “Hi,” she replied, feeling as if she might cry.

  8

  “Let’s start at t
he very beginning,” the inspector said. “Tell me when you first met the man calling himself Lance Thomas.”

  “That wasn’t his real name?” Fenella gasped.

  Inspector Hammersmith shook his head. “How this works is that I ask you questions and you answer them. You don’t get to ask questions back.”

  Fenella flushed and then looked down at the desk. The mobile phone in the middle of it made the whole situation worse. “I met him when he knocked on Shelly’s door a few nights ago,” she said in a low voice.

  “Shelly being Mrs. Michelle Quirk?” the man asked.

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “And what did he say to Mrs. Quirk?” was the next question.

  Fenella did her best to repeat the conversation from Saturday evening.

  The inspector took notes as she talked. “The man upset Mrs. Quirk?” he asked when she was finished.

  “I don’t know if it was the man himself or simply talking and thinking about her former husband that upset Shelly the most,” Fenella replied. “The anniversary of his death is coming up and he’s been very much on her mind lately. Lance’s arrival just reminded Shelly of John, especially when Lance didn’t even know at first that John was dead.”

  “I would have expected her to be eager to get to know someone who had once been great friends with her husband,” the inspector suggested.

  “She wasn’t convinced that he was who he claimed to be,” Fenella tried to explain. “And she didn’t really want to be reminded of John any more than necessary. She’s trying to move on with her life.”

  “That would be where Gordon Davison comes in, then?” the inspector asked.

  Fenella took a long, deep breath before she replied. “You’d have to ask Shelly about that,” she said.

  “I have done, but now I’m asking you. What do you think about her relationship with Mr. Davison? It seems rather soon for her be taking up with another man, really, doesn’t it? Although maybe she and her former husband weren’t particularly happy.”

  This time Fenella counted to ten before she could trust herself to reply. “Everything I know about Shelly suggests that she and John were very happy together. That doesn’t mean that she has to spend the rest of her life in mourning for him, though. There’s no reason why she can’t spend time with friends and enjoy her life, no matter how much she misses John.”