The Evans File (An Aunt Bessie Cold Case Mystery Book 5)

  THE EVANS FILE

  AN AUNT BESSIE COLD CASE MYSTERY

  DIANA XARISSA

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  The Flowers File

  A sneak peek at The Flowers File

  Also by Diana Xarissa

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2022 DX Dunn, LLC

  Cover Photo Copyright © 2019 Kevin Moughtin

  All Rights Reserved

  Created with Vellum

  CHAPTER 1

  “Bessie? It’s Andrew. Can you meet me at the Seaview tomorrow at two? I’m going to be staying there this month because – ah, well, never mind. I’ll explain everything tomorrow. Ring me back if you need me to collect you. Otherwise, I’ll see you at the Seaview at two tomorrow.”

  Bessie frowned at her answering machine. The message wasn’t at all what she’d been expecting to find when she’d returned from her shopping trip to Ramsey. Sighing, she picked up her telephone and rang the car service that she used to get around the island. It took only a moment to request a car for the next day.

  “But what should I do for dinner?” she muttered as she paced back and forth in her small kitchen. She’d been expecting to have dinner with Andrew, as he was due to arrive on the island later in the day. Presumably, he was still going to be arriving today. But now it seemed that instead of moving into the holiday cottage next to Bessie’s home, he was choosing to stay at the Seaview Hotel in Ramsey.

  After pacing for several more minutes, Bessie decided that she might as well walk on the beach as walk back and forth in her kitchen. The sun was shining and making it look as if it were a lovely day outside. She was old enough not to be fooled by the sun, though. After pulling on her heaviest coat, she let herself out of the cottage. A cold wind blew past her, nearly making her change her mind.

  “It’s February,” she reminded herself. “It’s meant to be cold.”

  “Aye, it is at that.”

  The voice made Bessie jump, as she’d assumed that she had the beach all to herself. She hadn’t spotted the young man standing behind the first of the holiday cottages that were next to Bessie’s cottage and stretched along the beach for some distance.

  “Pat,” she greeted him. “How are you today?”

  The man had been homeless and new to the island when Bessie had first met him. She’d managed to persuade Maggie and Thomas Shimmin, the couple who owned the holiday cottages, to let Pat stay in one and to give the man a job. From what Bessie had seen, Pat had been working hard for weeks, painting and fixing up the cottages so that they’d be ready for occupancy in the spring.

  “I’m fine. Maggie rang me first thing this morning and told me to stop working in cottage number three and start painting in here. I’m not certain why. I thought your friend was coming back for another visit soon.”

  “He is. In fact, he’s meant to be arriving today. Apparently, his plans have changed, though. He’s going to be staying at the Seaview this month.”

  “He’ll be a good deal more comfortable there, I reckon,” Pat laughed. “These cottages are none too warm in the winter.”

  “Do you need more blankets or warm clothing?”

  He shook his head. “Maggie has given me more clothes than I’ve ever had at one time before. I think she cleared out Thomas’s closet for me. She also insisted on giving me an extra duvet and a pile of blankets. I’m plenty snug and warm at night, and I’m working all day, which keeps me warm, too.”

  “That’s good to hear. How are your classes going?” Pat had recently started taking some classes, trying to make up for having left school without any qualifications.

  He shrugged. “I’m not enjoying the maths, but I’m getting through it. I’m taking an English class, too, and that’s a bit better.”

  “You know where I am if you need anything,” Bessie told him.

  “Thank you, and thank you again for everything you’ve done for me.”

  Bessie flushed and nodded as Pat slid open the door at the back of the holiday cottage and went inside. The wind made another attempt to chase Bessie back inside, but she ignored it and began to walk briskly along the sand. When she reached the stairs to Thie yn Traie, the huge mansion perched on the cliff above her, she decided she’d fought the wind enough.

  “I’d be better off pacing in my kitchen,” she said to herself as she turned around towards home.

  “Bessie? What are you doing out there in this wind?” The loud voice carried across the sand.

  Looking around, Bessie spotted Maggie Shimmin waving from the back of the last holiday cottage. It took Bessie only a minute to reach her.

  “Come in out of the cold,” Maggie said, stepping back from the door to let Bessie into the building. “Unless you’d rather not come inside the murder cottage.”

  Bessie chuckled. “I know several rather horrible things have happened in this cottage, but I’m quite happy to get out of the wind and the cold, regardless.” She stepped inside and then frowned. “It isn’t much warmer in here, though, is it?” she asked.

  Maggie shrugged. “We have the heating set very low, as we aren’t using this cottage and don’t plan to use it again. I suggested simply turning the heating off altogether, but apparently you can’t do that because of the water pipes or something.”

  “How are you?” Bessie asked, anticipating a litany of complaints from the other woman.

  “To be honest, I’m mostly disappointed. I wasn’t expecting Inspector Cheatham to let us down so badly.”

  “What’s happened?”

  “Oh, Bessie, I assumed you already knew. The inspector rang us this morning to say that he wasn’t going to be staying with us this month. I thought maybe you two had a disagreement. I hope everything is okay between you?”

  Bessie could see the eager gleam in Maggie’s eyes. Maggie loved gossip more than anything else, and she was hoping to learn something interesting from Bessie. “I’m sorry that Andrew cancelled his booking at the last minute,” she replied carefully.

  “Yes, well, it was a shock, but he was kind enough to offer to pay for the cottage for the fortnight, even though he isn’t going to be using it. I suppose I can’t really complain, therefore,” Maggie replied. “But what happened? He was coming over every month with his friends, which I still don’t understand. What made him change his plans this month? And why was he coming every month, anyway?”

  Bessie frowned and pressed her lips together. Andrew preferred that the existence of the cold case unit he’d set up some months earlier be kept as quiet as possible. He and two other retired police inspectors had travelled to the island each month since October to work with Bessie and her friends. Thus far, they’d managed to solve four different cold cases, and Bessie knew that the unit was garnering a lot of attention from policing organisations around the world. What they didn’t want was any attention from anyone else.

  “His visits aren’t for me to talk about,” Bessie said after a moment.

  Maggie sighed. “And now he’s stopped coming across, although he did tell me to keep his future bookings, and he didn’t ask me to cancel the bookings for his friends for the summer, either.”

  “So it’s just this month that he’s cancelled.”

  “Yes,
but why?”

  “I’ve no idea.”

  “Surely he rang you to let you know that he wasn’t coming?”

  “Just because he isn’t staying here doesn’t mean he isn’t coming,” Bessie replied.

  Maggie gasped. “He isn’t staying with you, is he? I mean, you have a guest room, but I’m not certain that it would be appropriate, you having a single man staying in your guest room.”

  Bessie felt herself blush brightly. “He isn’t staying with me,” she replied. “But if he did so, I can’t see why it would be inappropriate.”

  Maggie opened her mouth to reply and then shut it again. After a moment, she took a deep breath and then sighed. “He’s staying at the Seaview with his friends, isn’t he? And once he’s had a fortnight there, he isn’t going to be interested in staying here again.”

  “I think we’ll just have to wait and see,” Bessie replied. “The Seaview is lovely, though.”

  “Yes, it is,” Maggie said glumly.

  “You don’t usually have guests in the winter months,” Bessie reminded her. “I saw Pat this morning, and he said he’s getting to work on painting the cottage that Andrew always uses.”

  “Yes, I thought we should take advantage of Andrew’s changed plans and get that cottage painted and ready for spring.”

  “I hope Pat is doing a good job for you.”

  “He’s better than I expected,” Maggie replied, looking as if the admission was a painful one. “I imagine he’ll just up and leave one day without any warning.”

  Bessie bit her tongue. She simply couldn’t be bothered to argue with Maggie. “I should get home,” she said after a moment. “I’ve quite a lot to do today.”

  Bessie felt fortunate that Maggie didn’t challenge her words, as she actually didn’t have anything planned for the rest of the day. While she and Andrew hadn’t made any formal arrangements, every month previously he’d knocked on her door shortly after his flight had landed, ready to spend time with her.

  She filled the day by cleaning and tidying around the house. When that was done, she was able to curl up with a good book without feeling as if she should be doing something else. The book took her away from her home on the Isle of Man to the sunny beaches of Florida. Hours later, as she climbed into bed, she found herself wondering just how different Florida beaches were to the beach outside her door.

  Bessie’s morning walk on the beach was another short one. Not only was a strong wind blowing, but it was raining heavily. She marched as far as Thie yn Traie and then rushed back home again, waving to Pat as she went. He was standing at the sliding door to one of the cottages near the middle of the row, simply watching the water. He returned Bessie’s wave with a nod and a smile.

  She spent the morning working through a few more diary pages on a project she was doing for the Manx Museum library. The diaries, which began in the nineteen-twenties, had been donated to the museum by the author’s family. Carree Kewish had written them all in a variety of different codes, and Bessie was enjoying working them out, one after another. None of the codes she’d deciphered so far had been particularly complicated, but they were an interesting challenge for Bessie. The contents of the diaries themselves had proven less interesting. As yet, Bessie had found not much more than long passages about various young men that Carree had found attractive. Today’s deciphered entries were along those same lines, and Bessie put the books away with a sigh.

  She made herself a light lunch. The afternoon meeting at the Seaview would offer tea and biscuits, at the very least. On previous occasions Jasper Coventry, the hotel’s owner and manager, had provided them with everything from samples of new menu items being considered to piles of sandwiches and cakes from a tea party that had been cancelled at the last minute. Bessie had learned to go to the meetings feeling hungry.

  Dave, her favourite driver from the car service, was at her cottage at half one, as requested.

  “How are you?” Bessie asked as she settled into the passenger seat.

  “Since yesterday? Quite well,” he laughed. He’d taken her back and forth to Ramsey the previous day when she’d gone shopping.

  They chatted about nothing much as he drove the short distance to the Seaview.

  “Do you want me to come back for you later?” he asked as they arrived.

  “I’ll probably need a ride home, but I’ve no idea when,” she replied.

  “Ring me first, before you ring the office,” he told her.

  “As long as you promise to charge me properly,” she retorted. The man always encouraged her to ring his mobile number when she needed transportation, but she’d noticed that he sometimes didn’t bother to charge the trip to her account with the taxi company.

  He chuckled. “Ring me,” he repeated before she climbed out of the car.

  Inside the hotel’s lobby, she stopped and took a moment to admire the beautifully decorated space.

  “Bessie, hello,” a voice called from behind the reception desk.

  “Sandra, good afternoon,” Bessie replied, crossing the desk to greet the young woman behind it. The pair had become acquainted when Sandra had worked at the small shop at the top of the hill above Bessie’s cottage.

  “How are you today?” Sandra asked.

  “I’m very well. How are you? How is the new job?”

  “I love it here,” Sandra replied happily. “Mr. Coventry is just brilliant. He lets me study when it isn’t busy, and it’s very rarely busy.”

  “Unfortunately,” another voice said from somewhere behind Sandra.

  Bessie grinned as Jasper walked out of the small office behind the desk.

  “Bessie, darling,” he said. “How lovely to see you again.” He rushed from behind the desk to pull Bessie into a hug. “Let me walk you to the conference room,” he said. “And while we walk, you can tell me why Inspector Cheatham is staying with us this month.”

  He offered his arm and Bessie took it. They walked across the lobby and down the corridor towards the conference rooms.

  “Of course, we’re delighted to have Inspector Cheatham and his other friend here,” Jasper told her. “But it was rather unexpected. This time of year it doesn’t matter, of course. We’ve plenty of empty rooms. But if he were to do something similar in April or May, I’m not certain we’d be able to accommodate him. I was hoping you might suggest to him that, in the future, he not leave such things until the last minute.”

  Bessie nodded, but her mind was racing. What other friend? she wondered.

  “Here we are,” Jasper said, stopping in front of the door to one of the hotel’s many conference rooms. “I’ve told Inspector Cheatham that I’ll move you to a different conference room for every meeting. I know you were all fond of the penthouse room, but we actually have another event there today. It’s yours for your next meeting, though.”

  “It is lovely up there,” Bessie replied.

  “Next time,” Jasper promised. “The group up there today wanted a proper tea, so we did extra for your meeting. Sandwiches and cakes for everyone,” he said grandly, waving a hand at the table near the back of the room. It was covered in trays full of delicious-looking food.

  “Wonderful,” Bessie said. Although she hadn’t eaten much lunch, she didn’t feel particularly hungry, not even when she took a closer look at the food on display. It was foolish of her, but she knew she was worried about the situation with Andrew.

  Jasper shut the door on his way out, leaving Bessie alone in the room. When she made her own travel arrangements, she was nearly always early for everything. She poured herself a cup of tea and then put a few finger sandwiches and a slice of cake on a plate. Where to sit was a dilemma. She always sat next to Andrew, but today taking a seat next to the head of the table felt presumptuous. After a moment, she set her plate down on the table and began to nibble on a sandwich, still standing at the back of the room.

  “I’m early,” Hugh Watterson announced as he walked into the room. His eyes lit up when he saw the table nea
r Bessie. “I didn’t have time for lunch,” he told her as he began to fill a plate. “But where’s Andrew?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied.

  He stopped and stared at her for a moment. “He didn’t bring you with him from Laxey?”

  She shook her head. “He isn’t staying in Laxey this month.”

  “Why not? Has something happened?”

  Bessie shrugged. “I wish I knew.”

  Hugh opened his mouth to reply, but he was interrupted when the door opened again. John Rockwell and Doona Moore walked into the room, clearly in the middle of a conversation.

  “…too tall for the part,” Doona was saying.

  “I didn’t think that,” John replied. “But I did think he was a terrible actor.”

  Doona laughed. “I was too busy staring into his eyes to notice his acting.”

  “Hi,” Hugh said loudly.

  John and Doona both laughed and then greeted the others.

  “We both watched a movie last night, but separately,” Doona explained. “It was based on a book that we’ve both read, and we talked about it all the way here.”

  The foursome talked for a few minutes about the book, which Bessie had read, and the movie, which only Bessie hadn’t seen.

  “You should get a telly,” Doona told her. “You’re missing out on some great movies and shows.”

  “It doesn’t sound as if I missed out on a great movie,” Bessie countered. “None of you seem to have cared for it. I enjoyed the book very much.”

  When the door opened again, four men walked into the conference room. Bessie knew three of them. She smiled and nodded at Charles Morris and Harry Blake. They were both retired Scotland Yard inspectors and had been part of the cold case unit from the beginning. Andrew Cheatham was talking to the other man in a low voice, and Bessie could only assume that he didn’t notice when she smiled at him.