Aunt Bessie Joins (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 10) (7 page)

“So, I understand you’re friends with half
the police force on the island,” he said.
 
Bessie could tell that he was trying to sound offhand, but she could
hear tension in his tone.

“I wouldn’t say that,” she replied.
 
“I do know a few members of the police,
but nowhere near half the force.”

“You know Inspector
Corkill
,
though, right?”

“I do,” Bessie agreed.

“Does he think I killed Christopher Hart?”

Bessie stared at him for a moment.
 
“Why would he think that?” she asked
eventually.

“Because I punched him yesterday,” Michael
said.
 
“Our little altercation seems
likely to have made me the number-one suspect.”

“I don’t know what the inspector thinks,”
Bessie told him.
 
“But I don’t think
your disagreement about Christmas decorations is much of a motive for murder.”

Michael nodded.
 
“There was a lot of name calling and
ugly remarks,” he said.
 
“I suppose
people have been killed for less.”

“Unfortunately, you’re probably right,”
Bessie said.
 
“But there’s a big
difference between punching someone in the heat of anger and seeking them out
many hours later to kill them.”

“I didn’t have to seek him out,” Michael
said.
 
“He rang me from his hotel
room.”

“He did?”

“Yeah, he wanted to tell me that he was
seriously considering taking the whole story to the press.
 
He said he was certain I’d want to avoid
negative publicity, especially on behalf of the Alzheimer’s Research Fund, and
he suggested that I might like to buy him a few drinks and discuss how we might
smooth things over before he went back to London and started doing press
interviews for his new series.”

“That sounds a lot like blackmail to me,”
Bessie said.

“It sounded like blackmail to me, too,” Michael
agreed.
 
“But he was right, I can’t
afford for the story to hit the papers.
 
I’d probably lose my job over it.”

“What did you do?”

“I agreed to meet him.
 
I didn’t feel like I had much choice.”

“And what happened over drinks?”

“I didn’t go,” Michael told her.
 
“I drove down to Douglas and parked by
the pub, but I didn’t go in.
 
I sat
outside, watching the sea and thinking.
 
I finally decided that I’d have to take my chances that Mr. Hart would
rather not have everyone know that I knocked him out with one punch and I drove
away.”

“You’re probably right,” Bessie said after a
moment’s thought.
 
“I can’t see him
telling people that he slapped you, either, and you have enough witnesses on
your side that he would have had to tell the whole story if he started
spreading it around.”

“The problem is, I don’t have any alibi and
it seems like I have a motive,” Michael told her.
 
“I was hoping you might have some ideas
as to how I can persuade Inspector
Corkill
that I
didn’t do it.”

“The best thing you can do is tell him the
whole story, if you haven’t already,” Bessie replied.
 
“The more quickly the inspector can
solve the case, the sooner you’re in the clear.”

“But who else had a motive?” Michael asked.

“I don’t know, but maybe you weren’t the
only person Mr. Hart was trying to blackmail,” Bessie suggested.

Michael sat back, a smile slowly spreading
over his face.
 
“I didn’t think
about that,” he said.
 
“You’ve made
me feel much better.”

“I’m glad,” Bessie said.
 

She was going to remind him that he should
tell the police everything he’d told her, but before she could speak, he jumped
up.

“Must go, lots to do,” he muttered, dashing
away.

Bessie settled back on the bench, but Mark
was there a moment later.
 
“Ready
for home?” he asked.

“Oh, definitely,” Bessie replied.

At her cottage, she fixed herself a light
meal and then rang Pete
Corkill
at home.
 
She told him about everything that had
happened that afternoon, including her conversation with Michael Beach.

“That’s interesting,” Pete remarked when
she’d finished.
 
“I think I need to
have a word with Mr. Beach tomorrow morning.”

Bessie asked a few questions, all of which
the inspector politely refused the answer.
 
When she hung up, Bessie was feeling quite dissatisfied.
 
When there was a case in
Laxey
and Inspector John Rockwell was investigating, she
could sometimes get answers to her questions.
 
She thought about ringing John and
asking him for an update on the case, but she knew that doing so was
inappropriate.
 
With nothing better
to do and her books lacking appeal, Bessie took herself to bed early.

Chapter Four

Having had an early night, Bessie found
herself awake early the next morning.
 
After a shower and breakfast, she took a long walk on the beach,
stopping frequently to simply listen to the waves.
 
The walk had its usual calming effect on
her and Bessie returned to her cottage feeling refreshed.
 
She was surprised to see a car parked
outside the cottage as she approached.

“Good morning,” John Rockwell called to
Bessie as he emerged from the car.
 

Bessie rushed over to give him a hug.
 
Doona
climbed
out of the passenger side and came around for a hug of her own.

“This is an unexpected pleasure,” she told
the pair as she led them into the cottage.

“I brought some pastries,”
Doona
said, holding up a bakery box.

“Tea or coffee?” Bessie asked.

“Coffee, if you don’t mind,” John
replied.
 
“I had a late night.”

“Coffee sounds good to me, too,”
Doona
said.

Bessie set the coffee maker going and then
switched on the kettle as well.
 
She
preferred tea, at least when she wasn’t overtired.
 
Doona
unpacked
the box of goodies onto a plate and the trio sat down with their hot drinks to
enjoy breakfast together.

“So, what’s brought you here this morning?”
Bessie asked after she’d finished a croissant.

“We wanted to make sure you were okay,”
Doona
said.
 
“John rang me last night to tell me that you were stuck in the middle of
another murder investigation.
 
I
hope it hasn’t upset you too much.”

“I’m fine,” Bessie told her.
 
“I barely knew the man, after all.”

“You may know the killer somewhat better,”
John said softly.

Bessie nodded.
 
“I’ve been thinking about that,” she
admitted.
 
“But maybe Mr. Hart’s
death has nothing to do with ‘Christmas at the Castle.’”

“That’s always possible,” John replied.
 
“And I’m sure Pete will be considering
every possibility.”

“Can’t you take a few days off from working
at the castle until the murder is solved?”
Doona
asked.

“We open in a few days,” Bessie answered.
 
“I have to be there to help finish
everything.
 
We’re nearly done with
the decorating; today we’re meant to start setting up for the big auction on
Christmas Eve.
 
All of the items up
for bid will be on display this weekend.
 
We’re hoping that encourages people to come back on Christmas Eve for the
actual auction, although we’re allowing sealed bids to be submitted if people
prefer.”

“You aren’t auctioning off anything of great
value, are you?” John asked.

“Not really,” Bessie said.
 
“A few of the local hotels are giving
away weekend packages which are worth something, but I can’t tell you exactly
how much.
 
We have some
jewellery
and gift certificates to various shops around the
island.
 
I don’t think any one item
is worth more than five hundred pounds or so, though.”

“So nothing worth killing someone over,”
Doona
said.

“Mr. Hart didn’t have anything to do with
the auction, anyway,” Bessie said.
 
“I can’t see how his death could possibly be connected with that.”

“I was more concerned about security,” John
told her.
 
“How are the items being
displayed and what security is in place for them?”

“You’d really have to talk to Mark about
that,” Bessie replied.
 
“I’m sure he
said something about only displaying pictures of the items that are available,
at least until the actual auction evening.
 
Mark and Marjorie are in charge of the auction, though, so I didn’t pay
that much attention to the plans they made.”

“I’m sure the police in
Castletown
know all about it,” John said.
 
“It’s their problem, after all, not mine.
 
I’m just concerned about you.”

“I’m fine, and ‘Christmas at the Castle’ is
going to be wonderful,” Bessie said firmly.
 
“Perhaps Mr. Hart just met with an
unfortunate accident.”

“His death wasn’t an accident,” John told
her.

“Oh, dear,” Bessie sighed.
 
“In that case, we just have to hope that
Pete can work out who killed him as quickly as possible.”

“I don’t suppose you have any thoughts on
the matter,” John said.

“I don’t, really,” Bessie replied.
 
“I did think about it, quite a lot
actually, but I haven’t come up with any answers.”

“What was he like?” John asked.

“He was very demanding,” Bessie began.
  
“And he was somewhat difficult as
well.
 
I think he upset every single
one of the volunteers who had decorated rooms at the castle.”

“Upset them enough to make them want to kill
him?”
Doona
asked.

“Over a few Christmas decorations?”
 
Bessie shook her head.
 
“People had hurt feelings, but that
isn’t a very strong motive for murder.”

“I understand he’d had a disagreement with
the woman who brought him over to help with the event,” John said.

“Yes, apparently he and Carolyn
Teare
had some sort of falling out Monday evening,” Bessie
told him.
 
“That’s why he moved to
the Seaside Hotel.
 
He was meant to
be staying with her while he was here.”

The pastries were all gone and the coffee
pot was empty.
 
Doona
got up and started to tidy the kitchen.
 

“We need to get to work,” John said after
glancing at his watch.
 
“I’d love to
stay and hear more about the case, but that will have to wait for another
time.”

“Stop by any time,” Bessie told him.
 
“Although I’d much rather find other
things to talk about.”

John nodded and then gave her a hug.
 
“I’m hoping Pete will have the whole
matter resolved in a day or two.”

“Me, too,” Bessie said.

She let the pair out, smiling as she watched
John hold
Doona’s
door for her.
 
The pair seemed to be back on friendly
terms after their awkward patch.
 
Back in the cottage, she quickly finished the tidying and then checked
her appearance.
 
She’d only just
finished combing her hair when Mark arrived to take her to the castle.

“I was wondering,” Mark said as they made
their way south.
 
“That is, I
thought maybe you might be able to find time to talk to everyone today.”

“Of course I can.
 
What do you want me to talk to them
about?”

Mark chuckled.
 
“I’m explaining myself badly,” he said
apologetically.
 
“I was just
thinking that you’ve been through murder investigations before, and I thought
maybe you could take time to reassure everyone, that’s all.
 
I’m certain some of our volunteers are
quite upset about the whole thing.”

“Has anyone said they won’t be coming back
to the castle?” Bessie asked.

“Oh, no, at least no one has rung me.
 
Never mind, I’m rather upset about it
all myself, you see.”

“I do see,” Bessie told him.
 
“And it’s understandable that you’re
upset.
 
But it’s quite possible that
whoever killed Christopher Hart had nothing whatsoever to do with our little
event.
 
He certainly seemed like the
type of person to have more than one enemy, didn’t he?”

Mark nodded.
 
“You’re making me feel better, which is
exactly why I want you to try to chat with everyone else.
 
I’m sure you’ll make all of our volunteers
feel better as well.”

“What about the others on the
committee?
 
Do they need reassurance
as well?”

“I spoke with Marjorie last night.
 
She was caught up in the murder
investigation at the museum in May, so this isn’t exactly new to her.
 
I think she’s holding up just fine.
 
I don’t know how Carolyn and Mary are
feeling.
 
I haven’t had a chance to
speak to either of them except in passing.”

“I’ll make a point of talking to everyone
today,” Bessie told him.
 
She smiled
to herself.
 
She’d been planning to
try to do that anyway, but with a rather different motive.
 
Bessie was determined to help Pete solve
the murder as quickly as possible, ideally before “Christmas at the Castle”
opened.

Before they’d even walked into the castle,
Bessie had her first opportunity to speak to one of the volunteers.
 
Agnes
Clucas
pulled her car into the space next to Mark’s as Bessie climbed out.

“I’ll just wait for Agnes,” Bessie told
Mark.
 
“You go on ahead.”

“How are you, Bessie dear?” Agnes asked as
she stepped out of her car.
 
“I just
need to get some things out of the boot.”

“I’m fine,” Bessie told her.
 
She watched as Agnes unlocked her boot
and pulled out a large box.
 
“But
how are you?”

Agnes shrugged.
 
“I’m doing just fine,” she said.
 
“I was thinking about what Mr. Hart said
about the rainbow trees, though.
 
I
found a few ornaments at home that I thought might help fix the room.”

She opened the box and showed Bessie several
boxes of
multi-coloured
ornaments.
 
“Mr. Hart said the trees were all too
alike and the end result was boring,” she told Bessie as Bessie admired the
beautiful glass baubles.
 
“I thought
if I scattered these throughout the room, it might make the room more
interesting, without upsetting the rainbow theme.”

“They’re wonderful,” Bessie said.
 
“And I think they’ll be perfect.”

“That’s what Ms. Harper said, too,” Agnes
said.
 
“I told her I had these
baubles and she thought they’d be exactly what the room needed.
 
I hope she still thinks so when she sees
them.”

“I’m sure she will,” Bessie said.
 
“But I’m worried about everyone,” she
told Agnes in a confiding tone.
 
“It
isn’t very pleasant, being mixed up in a murder investigation.”

“Oh, I’m sure someone from across came over
and killed Mr. Hart,” Agnes said.
 
She picked up the box and stepped back from the car.
 
“If you could just shut the boot?” she
asked Bessie.

Bessie complied and then fell into step with
her.
 
“So you don’t think Mr. Hart’s
murder has anything to do with ‘Christmas at the Castle
?
’”
she asked.

“Oh, I can’t see how it could,” Agnes
replied.
 
“No one would get that
upset about a few Christmas decorations, would they?
 
But having met Mr. Hart, it wouldn’t
surprise me to learn that he upset people just about everywhere he went.
 
I suppose some of those upsets must have
been over things rather more serious than our holiday happening.”

“And you think they followed him over here
and killed him?”

“I should imagine they’d want to do it as
far away from their own home as possible,” Agnes said.

Bessie couldn’t argue with the logic of
that.
 
She held doors open for the
other woman, stopping with her in the room Agnes had decorated.

Agnes put the box down and quickly added a
few baubles to one of the trees.
 
“It does work rather well, doesn’t it?” she asked, looking at Bessie.

“It really does,” Bessie agreed.

She crossed Agnes off her mental list of
people to see and then made her way to the banquet room.
 
Mark had called a committee meeting for
first thing this morning.
 
Bessie
could only hope she’d have time to chat with some of the members before the
meeting got started.

 
Mary
was standing in the
centre
of the banquet room when
Bessie arrived.
 

“Ah, I was starting to think I was in the
wrong place,” she greeted Bessie.
 
“It’s quite spooky in here when you’re all alone.”