Aunt Bessie Invites (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 9) (8 page)

“Bessie, thank you for coming,” William said
when they came face-to-face in the crowd.

“I enjoyed it very much,” Bessie told
him.
 
“Although some of it went over
my head, of course.”

“I tried to make it as clear as possible,”
William said with a frown.
 
“Perhaps, if you have a few minutes, we could go through the talk
together and you could point out what you didn’t understand.
 
I’m hoping to get this talk published
and I would like it to be interesting and enjoyable for readers of all
backgrounds.”

Bessie nodded.
 
“Why don’t you give me a printed copy
and I’ll make some notes for you,” she suggested.

“I’ll do that,” he agreed.
 
“And thank you very much.”

“It’s no problem,” Bessie assured him.

“If it isn’t a bother, I’ll bring the copy
to Thanksgiving dinner,” he said.
 
“And thank you so much for inviting me, by the way.”

“It’s no bother at all,” Bessie
replied.
 
“As long as you don’t
expect me to read it during the meal.”

William laughed.
 
“I’d be hugely grateful if you could get
your comments to me early in the
new year
,” he
said.
 
“And I feel rather demanding
asking for that.”

“I should be able to have it back to you
before Christmas,” Bessie said.
 
“I’ve
very little else going on right now.”

“Except Thanksgiving,” William replied.

“Except that,” Bessie agreed.
 
“Are you bringing a guest?
 
I can’t remember what you said when you
replied.”

“I probably said that I was bringing a
guest,” he told her.
 
“But now I’m
not so sure.”

Bessie waved a hand.
 
“Don’t worry about it,” she said.
 
“One person either way won’t make a
difference.”

William didn’t get a chance to reply before
someone shouted his name.
 
He gave
Bessie a quick hug and headed off to talk to the man.
 
Bessie picked up another biscuit and
turned to see
who
else she knew.

“Marjorie, what a great turnout,” she said
to the Museum’s librarian and archivist.
 
Marjorie Stevens was a wonderful resource for Bessie’s research.
 
The woman also taught the Manx language
classes that Bessie had taken several times.

“I’m pleasantly surprised at how many people
are here,” Marjorie replied.
 
“It is
a Tuesday afternoon in November.
 
I
thought we’d be lucky to have a dozen people turn up.”

“I suppose William is very popular,” Bessie
said.

“He’s a very talented researcher and the
Manx History Institute is going to be a wonderful resource once it gets up and
running properly,” Marjorie told her.

“How are things in the library?” Bessie
asked.

“Fine, although I’m missing you,” Marjorie
told her.
 
“It was so nice, when you
were living in Douglas, having you around so regularly.
 
Now that you’re back in Laxey, no one is
indexing my boxes.”

“I’m sorry,” Bessie said.
 
“I have really been neglecting my
research, haven’t I?
 
I’ll try to do
better after Thanksgiving.”
 

Bessie had left school at seventeen, content
with her American high school diploma, but she’d learned a great deal about
historical research after years of working at the museum library on various
projects.
 
She worked mostly with
old wills and Marjorie was always grateful when Bessie was willing to go through
one of the old boxes of papers that the museum had received over the
years.
 
Bessie indexed the contents
and enjoyed the excitement of finding old and interesting documents that had
been long forgotten.

“Thanksgiving,” Marjorie exclaimed.
 
“I don’t think I ever thanked you for
inviting me to your dinner,” she said.
 
“I’d love to come, if it isn’t too late to let you know.”

“Of course it isn’t,” Bessie replied.
 
“And I’m delighted you can make it.
 
Did you want to bring a guest?”

Marjorie shook her head.
 
“I’ll be quite happy on my own,” she
assured Bessie.
 
“Kyst t’ou?”

Bessie laughed.
 
Marjorie never let her get away without
at least saying a few words in Manx.
 
“Ta mee braew,” Bessie answered her.

Marjorie patted her arm.
 
“You’ll be fluent in no time,” she told
Bessie.

Bessie just laughed again and then headed
for the stairs.
 
She’d spoken to
just about everyone she knew.
 
Mark
Blake, the director of special projects, caught her just before she reached the
first step.

“Bessie, thank you for the invitation.
 
I’d love to come to your dinner,” he
told her.

“Excellent,” Bessie said with a broad
smile.
 
“Will you be bringing a
guest?”

Mark shrugged.
 
“My brother might be visiting that
weekend,” he said.
 
“I may have to
bring him so that he doesn’t complain about being abandoned when he went to all
the trouble to come across.
 
If
that’s okay, that is.”

“It’s fine,” Bessie said with a laugh.
 
“I’d hate for him to feel left out,
especially after coming such a long way.”

At the entrance to the museum, Bessie stopped
to chat with Henry Costain, who’d worked for Manx National Heritage since he’d
left school.
 
That had been a great
many years ago, and Bessie knew he had built up an extensive knowledge of the
various sites on the island in those years.

“Bessie, that’s a terrible business out at
the old Clague farm, isn’t it?” Henry asked.

“It is, yes,” Bessie agreed.

“I was starting to worry a while back that I
was bad luck, you know,” he told her.
 
“I was finding dead bodies all around the place, but it turns out it
isn’t me.
 
I don’t seem to find any
when I’m not with you.”

Bessie forced herself to smile at the words,
knowing Henry didn’t mean to upset her.
 
“This one has been dead for a very long time,” she said.

“Aye, I’ve been trying to work out who it
might be,” Henry replied.
 
“I can
probably list half a dozen old school mates of mine who disappeared at one time
or another over the years.
 
I expect
their families will know where they are though, won’t they?”

Bessie shrugged.
 
“I would hope so,” she said.
 
“I’m hoping the police sort it all out
quickly.
 
I understand he was found
with a distinctive watch.
 
It’s
going to be in the paper this afternoon, I gather.”

Henry nodded.
 
“Aye, ours was just delivered and it’s
right on the front page.”

He held out the paper and Bessie quickly
spread it out on the desk.
 
The
photograph of the watch took up a quarter of the page, with an appeal
underneath it for information.
 
Bessie studied it for a long time.

“Do you recognise it?” Henry asked.

“There’s something familiar about it,”
Bessie said slowly.
 
“I’m sure I’ve
seen it before, but I can’t think where.”

“Well, let’s hope someone else can remember
more than you can,” Henry said.
 
“And speaking of remembering, I’d love to come to the Thanksgiving
party.
 
Thank you for asking.”
 
He stopped and looked down at the desk,
his face turning red.
 
“I’ll be,
that is, you said in the invitation, I mean, if it’s okay, I’ll be bringing a
friend.”

Bessie grinned.
 
“Of course you may bring someone,” she
said, forcing
herself
to keep her curiosity in
check.
 
“I’ll look forward to seeing
you then.”

“Thanks,” he said, still not looking at her.

That conversation gave her something to
think about in the taxi on the way back to Laxey.
 
Henry seemed both excited and nervous
about bringing his friend.
 
As far
she knew, he’d never had a steady girlfriend.
 
Bessie couldn’t wait to see who
accompanied him to her event.

There were another dozen messages on her
machine when she got back, and Bessie listened to them as she fixed herself a
light snack that would substitute for her evening meal after the large lunch
she’d enjoyed in Douglas.
 
Most were
repeats of earlier calls, but she was happy to hear Doona’s voice as well.

“I’m home,” Doona said.
 
“Ring me when you get in.”

Bessie was quick to place the call.
 
Doona had sounded tired and stressed,
which just added to Bessie’s eagerness to speak to her.

“How are you?” she asked as soon as Doona
answered.

“I’m fine,” was the automatic reply.

“It’s me, Bessie.
 
How are you really?”

Doona chuckled.
 
“I’m fine, really,” she said
firmly.
 
“I ended up working quite
late last night and today was total madness at the station, so I’m quite tired,
but otherwise, I’m fine.”

“I rang and someone called Joan answered,”
Bessie told her.

“She told me you’d rung,” Doona replied.
 
“She’s on loan from Castletown at the
moment as they were the only station that could spare anyone.”

“She seemed nice enough on the phone,”
Bessie said.

“She’s very nice, but irritatingly cheery
all the time,” Doona told her.
 
“Not
that I got to talk to her much.
 
I
was pretty much tied to my phone all day.”

“I gather everyone in Laxey has a guess as
to who was found at the Clague farm,” Bessie said.

“Everyone in Laxey, Lonan, Ramsey and just
about every other place on the island,” Doona replied.
 
“It was crazy this morning, and then
after the paper came out, the phone lines just exploded.
 
Joan and I couldn’t keep up, and it was
a huge relief when five o’clock rolled around and I got to come home.”

“So people recognised the watch?” Bessie
asked.

“People seem to think they’ve recognised the
watch,” Doona replied.
 
“But I did
get given different names by different people.”

Bessie sighed.
 
“It does look very familiar,” she
said.
 
“I’m certain I’ve seen it
somewhere before.
 
I’m sure if I
hear the right name it will all come back to me.”

“I can bring you a list,” Doona said.
 
“I was given maybe a dozen names and I
suspect Joan probably has a similar list as well.
 
We’re just handing everything over to
Hugh, who’s coordinating the efforts, but I bet he’d be happy to have you look
through the names.”

“Maybe there will be some duplicates when he
compares the lists and he’ll be able to start narrowing it down.”

“Maybe,” Doona sighed.
 
“By the end of the day I’d just about
forgotten my own name, let alone any and all of the ones people had been
suggesting to me.
 
At least I only
have to talk to the people who ring, Hugh has to follow up on their
suggestions.”

“Poor Grace, he’ll never find time to see
her,” Bessie said.

“She brought him lunch today,” Doona
said.
 
“It was very sweet,
really.
 
She brought him a bunch of
sandwiches and a cold drink, and she brought a huge box of chocolate biscuits
for everyone in the station to share.”

“She’s a lovely girl,” Bessie said
happily.
 
“I hope he realises how
lucky he is to have found her.”

“If he doesn’t, she won’t have any shortage
of volunteers to take his place,’ Doona remarked.
 
“All of the other young constables were
very impressed with her.”

Bessie laughed.
 
“I wish he’d just propose and get it
over with.”

“I think Grace would agree with you on
that,” Doona replied.

“Is there anything you can tell me about the
case?” Bessie had to ask.

“If you’ve seen the evening paper, you know
just about everything I know,” Doona replied.
 
“Everyone seems to think the watch is
the key, but after all of the calls I took today, I’m not so sure.”