Aunt Bessie Invites (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 9) (19 page)

“Nowhere,” John said glumly.
 
“It was such a long time ago, we’re
struggling to come up with any of those things for anyone.”

“I’m sure several young ladies were quite
upset with how they were treated, but I can’t see any of them resorting to
murder,” Bessie said.
 
“And I can’t
get past the fact that the man was leaving.
 
Why would anyone kill him if he was
leaving anyway?”

“That’s a very good question,” John said.
 
“Anna has suggested that maybe he was
just telling people he was leaving, but he was really just moving to another
part of the island or something.”

“To do what?” Bessie demanded.
 
“He was supposed to be looking for a farm
to buy.
 
If he wanted to look
elsewhere in the island, surely he wouldn’t be doing it in secret?”

“What about jealous boyfriends?” Hugh
asked.
 
“If he went out with just
about every single young woman in Laxey, that must have upset a few of the
young men.”

“We’re checking on that as much as we can,”
John said.
 
“But it was a long time
ago.
 
Many of the men and women
we’ve spoken to don’t seem to remember much from that summer.”

“I think we should focus on finding his
connection with the Clague farm,” Bessie said thoughtfully.
 
“Why was he buried there?”

“No one I’ve talked to can give me any
reason why he was there,” John said, sounding frustrated.
 
“If only we could talk to Niall.”

“I thought Anna was going to try,” Bessie
said.

“She did,” John said.
 
“He told her all about Christmas in the
nineteen-thirties, but couldn’t remember her name from one minute to the next.”

Bessie sighed.
 
“I was thinking about going to see him,”
she said.

John looked at her for a minute and then
sighed.
 
Before he could speak,
Doona started collecting the dishes.

“We should have cake,” she said
brightly.
 

Hugh got up and opened the bakery box.
 
The cake inside was beautifully
decorated.

“It seems a shame to eat it,” Bessie said as
she stared at the treat.

“It would be a bigger shame to throw it
away,” Hugh said logically.
 

John handed him a stack of small plates and
a knife and Hugh cut very generous slices from the cake.
 
The group fell silent again as they
enjoyed their pudding.

“That was fabulous,” Doona said as she
scraped up her last bite.

“It was really good,” Bessie agreed.

“At least now I know where to get the cakes
for my kids’ birthdays,” John said with a grin.

“Where were we?” Bessie asked as she helped
Doona tidy up.

“We were talking about Niall,” Doona told
her.
 
“And how frustrating it is that
he’s, um, not able to help more.”

“Could he have murdered Jacob Conover?” Hugh
asked the question that everyone else was thinking.

Bessie sighed.
 
“I’d like to be able to say no,” she
said sadly.
 
“But I simply don’t
know.
 
I can’t say I ever knew him especially
well.
 
He kept to himself, and the
farm and raising Fenella kept him very busy, anyway.
 
I think he’d have needed a very strong motive,
but he may have had one; I just don’t know what it was.”

“Maybe Jacob was annoying Fenella,” Doona
suggested.

Bessie frowned.
 
“Both she and Eoin claim they don’t
remember him,” she said.
 
“But I
don’t believe them.
 
Fenella must
have met him, at least once or twice.
 
She used to come into town to the market every week and he used to spend
a lot of time there, talking with all of the girls.”

“Why would she lie?” Doona asked.

“The only thing I can think is that she
suspects that her father had something to do with the man’s death,” Bessie
replied.
 
“Maybe she’s trying to
protect him.”

“Him or Eoin?” Hugh asked.

Bessie shrugged.
 
“I suspect she’d lie for both of them,”
she said.

“They have to be close to the top of the
suspect list,” Hugh said.
 
“If only
because the body was found on their farm.”

“Is there anyone else on the list at all?”
Bessie asked.
 
“I mean
,
I can’t imagine anyone else being able to hide the body
there without getting caught.”

“We’re trying to track down as many of the
farm’s former farmhands as we can,” John said.
 
“Many of them were just casual labour
who only worked on the farm for a season or so and then moved on.
 
It’s possible, maybe even probable, that
one of them had a fight with Jacob Conover and killed him.
 
Whether he could have hidden the body in
that barn without Niall knowing about it is another question, but for now we’re
focussing on one thing at a time.”

“Anna was at the farm asking Fenella for any
information she had for anyone who’d ever worked for them,” Bessie said.
 
“I got the feeling Fenella hadn’t kept
track of many of them.”

“No, when I spoke to Anna this afternoon she
said she’d only been able to get about a dozen names from Fenella,” John said.

“Were any of them on the island in the right
year?” Bessie asked.

John shrugged.
 
“Anna’s going through the list.
 
Fenella couldn’t be sure of exactly when
any of them were here, apparently.”

“I suppose it’s a waste of time talking
about means,” Hugh said.

“From what I understand, he must have died
the night of his leaving party,” Bessie said.
 
“He was supposed to take the ferry the
next morning.
 
It never crossed my
mind to question whether he made it on board or not.”

“The killer was lucky there,” John
said.
 
“I’ve spoken to several
people who were at that party, and no one seems to recall who Jacob left with
or where he said he was going.
 
The
woman he was rooming with passed away many years ago, so we can’t ask her if he
ever came back for his belongings.”

“That’s a point,” Bessie said.
 
“Someone must have gone and taken them
or Margaret would have said something.”

“We’re trying to track his things down and
also find out what happened to his car,” John said.
 

“I’d forgotten about that car,” Bessie
exclaimed.
 
“It was a nice one.
 
Much nicer than most
of the people around here could afford.
 
I wonder what ever happened to it.”

“So do we,” John said.

“I seem to remember him selling it to
someone in Douglas a short time before he was supposed to leave,” Bessie said,
struggling to remember.
 
“I’m not
sure, though.”

They talked in circles for several more
minutes, but no one seemed to be able to add anything useful to the
discussion.
 
Bessie found herself
yawning for the third time.

“I think it’s time to call it a night,” she
said reluctantly.
 
“As much as I’m
enjoying the company and the conversation.”

“Doona, I’ll take Bessie home.
 
I know you have to be in early
tomorrow,” John said.

“Are you sure?” Doona asked.

“I don’t have to be in until ten,” he told
her.
 
“But I saw you were on the
schedule at seven.”

Doona nodded.
 
“That’s because Anna hates me,” she
said.

John shook his head.
 
“She doesn’t hate you,” he said.
 
“She just likes to rotate the shifts
around.
 
That way no one has to be
in at seven every day.”

“But Karen likes working at seven,” Doona
protested.
 
“And now Anna has us all
bouncing around and we can never remember when we’re meant to be working.”

“We’re going to have a staff meeting next
week,” John said.
 
“Everyone will be
able to raise their concerns at that time.”

Doona looked like she wanted to say
something, but she snapped her mouth shut and got up from the table.

“Thank you for hosting us tonight,” she said
to John.
 
“And thank you for
dinner,” she told Hugh.
 
She gave
Bessie a hug and then all four of them walked towards the front door.

“We never got our tour,” Bessie exclaimed.

“Go and have a quick look, then,” John told
her.
 
“I’ll wait here.”

Bessie and Doona walked through the house
quickly, opening and closing doors as they went.
 
Bessie felt quite self-conscious as she
peeked into the bedrooms and bathrooms.

“It’s lovely,” she told John a few minutes
later, handing him the can of furniture polish she’d found on the dining room
table.

 
“The
colours all work very well together,” Doona said.
 
“And it looks like it will be a
comfortable home for you and your children.”

John held the door for Doona and Hugh and
then he and Bessie followed them out.
 
John’s car was behind Doona’s and he helped Bessie into the passenger
seat.
 
The pair was silent on the
short drive back to Bessie’s cottage.

“Thank you for the ride,” Bessie said as
John pulled to a stop outside her door.

“I’ll just come in and check that everything
is okay,” John told her.

Bessie bit back a frustrated sigh.
 
She hated when her friends fussed over
her, but she knew they were only doing it because they cared.
 
After she unlocked her door, she let
John take the lead.
 
She checked her
answering machine and did a few little jobs around the kitchen while she
listened to John stomping around the cottage.

“It was good to see you,” he said to Bessie
when he returned to the kitchen.

“It was wonderful to see you,” Bessie
replied, giving him a hug.
 
“Your
new house is just about perfect.
 
I’m sure the kids will love it.”

John smiled and headed for the door.
 
Before he opened it he stopped and
turned to Bessie, a frown on his face.
 
“Anna isn’t happy with you,” he said hesitatingly.
 
“She thinks you’re interfering with her
investigation.”

“I am not,” Bessie replied angrily.

“I know,” John told her.
 
“And I told her you can be a hugely
valuable resource as well, but she doesn’t work that way.
 
I think you’d be wise to try to stay out
of her way.”

“I’m not quite sure how I’m meant to do
that,” Bessie said tartly.
 
“It
isn’t as if she tells me what she’s going to do next.”

John flushed.
 
“I just, that is, well, maybe you should
stay away from the Clague farm for a while, and from anyone connected to it.”

“You don’t want me to go and see Niall,”
Bessie said.

“I don’t mind if you go and see Niall,” John
countered.
 
“But Anna doesn’t think
you should.”

“Are you telling me I can’t go and see him?”
Bessie demanded.

“No,” John said in a tired voice.
 
“You can do whatever you like, just be
prepared for Anna to dislike it.”

“I’m not sure I care what Anna thinks,”
Bessie said.

John nodded.
 
“I just don’t want you to make an enemy
of her,” he said.

Chapter Ten

John’s words seemed to stay in Bessie’s head
all through the night.
 
As she
walked on the beach the next morning, she tried to think.
 
She didn’t want to anger Anna Lambert,
but she wanted to see Niall and ask him about Jacob.
 
As far as she could tell, there was no
way to visit him without upsetting Anna.

Back at her cottage, she paced in circles
around her sitting room.
 
What she
needed was a very good reason to visit Niall, one that had nothing to do with
the dead man.
 
Her phone interrupted
her thoughts.

“Bessie, it’s Doncan,” Bessie’s advocate’s
voice came down the line.
 
“I was
just ringing to tell you how sorry I am, but the painting went for more than
your top bid.”

Bessie sighed.
 
“I didn’t really think I’d win it,” she
replied, swallowing her disappointment.
 
“It really is a beautiful painting.
 
I hope it’s going to a good home.”

“I’m not sure where it’s going,” Doncan told
her.
 
“The winner had submitted a
sealed bid, like you did, and chose to remain anonymous.”

“Well, never mind,”
Bessie
said.
 
“Maybe I’ll see it somewhere
one day.”

“Maybe,” Doncan laughed.

“Anyway, I’ll see you on Saturday,” Bessie
told him.

“You will indeed,” Doncan replied.

Bessie sat down and thought for a
moment.
 
She’d invited Niall to her
Thanksgiving feast once, many years earlier.
 
He’d laughed and told her that farming
was a full-time job and that he couldn’t take a whole afternoon out to sit
around eating and drinking.
 
Bessie
could remember the conversation like it had been yesterday.

“Ask me again when I’ve retired,” he’d
laughed.

“I will,” Bessie had promised.

“And now I shall keep that promise,” Bessie
said loudly.
 
Anna Lambert probably
wouldn’t think that was a very good excuse for visiting the man, but Bessie
decided she didn’t care.
 
Now that
she’d thought of it, she was eager to invite Niall to her dinner.
 
There was no way he’d be able to attend,
given his health, but she owed him the invitation.

She rang her taxi service and booked a car
to take her to Douglas in the afternoon.
 
Her morning was spent with a good book.
 
After a light lunch, she waited
impatiently for her taxi.
 
Seeing Mark
Stone, her least favourite driver, driving the car that came to collect her
made her frown.

Mark leaned on the car’s horn as Bessie
grabbed her handbag and locked up the cottage.
 
She could see impatience on his face as
she crossed to the car.

“Douglas?” he asked as he turned the car
around while she was fastening her seatbelt.
 
“I don’t suppose you’d rather go to
Ramsey?”

“No, I would not,”
Bessie
said firmly.
 

“Only I told a friend I’d give him a ride
somewhere,” Mark explained.
 
“But
he’s in Ramsey.
 
I’d hate to make
him wait while I take you all the way to Douglas.”

Bessie looked at him, sure that her
astonishment would be obvious from her expression.
 
“You’d like me to change my plans for
the day to accommodate your friend?” Bessie asked.
 

“Well, I mean, maybe we could just swing by
Ramsey and collect him,” Mark suggested.
 
“It isn’t that much out of the way.”

Bessie stared at him for a moment.
 
“If you really must,” she said.
 
“But obviously I don’t expect to be
charged for that portion of the trip.
 
And I assume your friend, as he’s sharing the ride, will share the cost
of the journey from Ramsey to Douglas with me.”

Mark frowned.
 
“Well, I’m sort of taking him as a
favour, you see,” he told Bessie.
 
“I can’t make him pay, not really.”

“Well, I won’t be paying full fare if I’m
sharing the ride,” Bessie said sharply.
 
“Especially as the journey will take a good deal longer as we will be
going in the wrong direction for much of it.”

Mark sighed deeply.
 
“Never mind,” he said grumpily.
 
“I’ll just take you to Douglas and make
Joe wait.”

“As you’re doing him a favour, he shouldn’t mind,”
Bessie said.

“Aye, but he will,” Mark muttered.
 
That was the last
thing that he said to Bessie during the journey, and Bessie wasn’t feeling
inclined to make polite conversation.

“So, Douglas Gardens, are you thinking it’s
time to look into nursing homes?” he asked as he pulled up in front of Bessie’s
destination.

“I’m visiting a friend,” Bessie told him.

“I reckon most of your friends are in homes
now, aren’t they?” Mark asked.
 
“I
mean
,
they all must be getting on a bit, mustn’t
they?
 
If they’re still around, that
is.”

Bessie counted to ten slowly and then
counted again, backwards this time.
 
She wasn’t feeling much calmer as she bit her lip and climbed out of the
taxi.
 
“Bill me,” she said curtly,
turning and walking briskly away from the car before she said something she
might regret later.
 

“What a horrible man,” she muttered to
herself as she made her way through the glass doors at the entrance to the
nursing home.

“I do hope you aren’t talking about me,” a
familiar voice spoke from right inside the door.

Bessie looked over and smiled brightly.
 
“Inspector Corkill, what a pleasant
surprise.”

“You really must call me Pete,” he replied,
looking Bessie up and down.
 
“You’re
looking very well,” he added.

“You are as well,” Bessie replied.
 
The Douglas area police inspector had
taken some time to warm up to Bessie following their unfortunate meeting after Bessie
had found a murdered man, but now their relationship had developed into
something like friendship.
 
As
Bessie studied him now, she realised that he was smiling, something she wasn’t
sure she’d seen him do before.
 
He
looked fitter and healthier than he had the last time she’s seen him, as well.

“Ah, Bessie, what brings you to Douglas?”
Helen Baxter, a pretty blonde nurse that Bessie knew from the woman’s interest
in the medical history of the island, had joined them.
 
Now she linked arms with Pete and rested
her head on his shoulder.
 

Bessie smiled.
 
Perhaps the changes in Pete had a simple
explanation.
 
“I came to visit an
old friend,” she told the woman.
 
“I’ve never actually been here before, but it’s meant to be a very nice
facility.”

Helen nodded.
 
“I stopped by to visit a former
patient,” she told Bessie.
 
“She was
telling me how much she loves it here, and from everything I’ve seen, it’s a
very nice place.”

“Yes, well, I can’t imagine moving out of my
little cottage, but I do have to say it is nice to know there are good
alternatives,” Bessie replied.

“We should get going,” Pete broke in.
 
“You have a lot of shopping you want to
get done before dinner.”

Helen laughed.
 
“We have a booking somewhere posh,” she
told Bessie.
 
“It’s a rare treat and
I thought I ought to have a new dress and shoes.”

“Well, have a wonderful time,” Bessie said,
wondering if they were celebrating something special, but not wanting to pry.

“I’m sure we will,” Helen told her.
 
“And we’re both really looking forward
to your party next weekend as well.”

“I’m glad,” Bessie said with a smile.
 
“It’s going to be my biggest ever
Thanksgiving feast.”

“We’ll see you then,” Pete said.
 

Helen gave Bessie a big hug and then the
couple disappeared out the doors Bessie had just come in.
 
She smiled to herself as she crossed the
reception area.
 
Helen and Pete made
a very attractive couple and Bessie was really happy to see them together.

“How may I help you?” the young woman behind
the reception desk asked Bessie.

“I’d like to visit with Niall Clague,”
Bessie told her.
  
“We’re old
friends.”

The girl tapped something into her computer
and then gave Bessie a well-practiced smile.
 
“He’s in room 127,” she said.
 
“I’ll just buzz one of the girls to take
you back.”

“Thank you,” Bessie replied.

“I’m sure he’ll be glad to have a visitor,”
the girl said.
 
“But I feel I should
warn you that he isn’t always, well, he has problems with his memory.
 
He often forgets who people are and he
can get very confused when he talks about the past.”

Bessie nodded.
 
“I know his daughter, Fenella,” she
said.
 
“She’s told me that her
father isn’t doing very well.”

“That’s sadly true,” the girl said,
nodding.
 
“But I know he’ll be happy
that someone has come to see him, anyway.”

Bessie wasn’t so sure about that, but she
smiled and nodded as she waited for someone to escort her to Niall’s room.
 
It was only a moment later that a young
girl came out through the door to the left of the reception desk.

“Hi,” she said brightly to Bessie.
 
“I’m Noreen, and I’m one of the nursing
assistants here.”

“Hey, Noreen, can you show our guest to
Niall Clague’s room, please?” the girl behind the desk asked.
 
“Maybe you can stay with them for a few
minutes.
 
You know how Mr. Clague
can be when something unexpected happens.”

Noreen nodded.
 
“If you’d like to follow me,” she said
to Bessie.
 
She led the way to the
door she’d just come out of and tapped in a code on the panel next to it.
 
Bessie heard the click as it
unlocked.
 
Noreen pulled the door
open and then motioned for Bessie to go through first.

“How does Niall get when something
unexpected happens?” Bessie asked nervously as they made their way down the
corridor.

“Oh, he can get a bit upset, that’s all,”
the girl replied in the same cheery tone that was starting to annoy
Bessie.
 
“He likes his routine, does
our Niall.”
 
She glanced over at Bessie.
 
“Which isn’t to say he doesn’t like
visitors,” she added quickly.
 
“Just
that he can find visitors a bit overwhelming, that’s all.”

“Well, if I upset him, I’ll go,” Bessie
replied.
 
“I didn’t come to see him
to upset him.”

“I’m sure it will be fine,” Noreen assured
her.
 
“He’s a favourite of mine, so
I’m pretty good at dealing with him.”

Noreen paused outside the open door to room
127 and knocked gently.
 
When there
was no reply, she knocked again, with more force.
 

“Niall?
 
It’s Noreen.
 
Can we come
in?” she called.

“I suppose,” a low voice called back.

Noreen led Bessie into the spacious
room.
 
Bessie looked around
approvingly at the solid wooden furniture and spotlessly clean room.
 
Noreen had gone straight to the chair
that had been placed in front of the television, even though the telly was
dark.

“Niall, do you remember I told you that you
were going to have a visitor today?” Noreen asked.
 
She glanced up at Bessie and winked at
her.
 
“Here she is.”

The man in the chair looked up slowly.
 
Bessie was shocked at how old and frail
he looked.
 
His many years of hard
physical labour on the farm had given him broad shoulders and strong arms.
 
Now he appeared to have shrunk in much
the same way his son-in-law had.
 
Fenella had told Bessie that her father was still physically strong, but
Bessie wondered if the woman was seeing what she wanted to see rather than
reality.
 
The man staring up at her
looked incredibly fragile.

“Bessie?” he said now.
 
“Bessie Cubbon?
 
Is that you?
 
My goodness, woman, you’ve grown old.”