Aunt Bessie Remembers Read online

  “She meant to tell me about it earlier,” Bessie replied, “and then I was meant to tell you about it earlier. It’s a long story, but basically she forgot to tell me.”

  “I’m not sure a murder mystery evening is the sort of thing I’d want to attend anyway.”

  “It’s not for me, that’s for certain. I’ve already told her that I’ve no interest in taking part.”

  “I hope she isn’t too upset with you, especially as you’ll have to disappoint her about my attending as well.”

  “Mary is on my side,” Bessie assured him. “I’m going to go over on Saturday and sit with her while Elizabeth’s little game is taking place.”

  “I’ve a colleague across who went to one of those evenings,” John said. “He was invited because he’s a police inspector, but he wasn’t very pleased with how it went. Many of the clues were red herrings and he ended up fingering the wrong suspect as the murderer while several guests selected the right one. By the end of the evening he felt as if he had been set up to fail and as if he’d damaged his reputation as an inspector.”

  “Oh, dear. That’s simply dreadful,” Bessie exclaimed. “I’m sure you’d be more than clever enough to work out the right solution, but it isn’t worth the risk, is it?”

  “No, it isn’t. And now that I know that such things are going to be happening on the island, I think it’s time for a chat with the chief constable about them. I suspect he’ll want to issue some sort of guidelines for members of the constabulary who are considering taking part.”

  “Elizabeth has no idea what she’s started.”

  “No, and I doubt she’s given it any thought, either. She’s had so much given to her in life that she doesn’t generally think things through enough.”

  Bessie couldn’t argue with that. “I’ll ring her and tell her that you’re busy and also suggest that she give up on finding an inspector to take part.”

  “I hope she isn’t too upset with you,” John said.

  “She won’t be,” Bessie replied. “I’ve already told her to expect you to say no. I think the entire thing is in poor taste.”

  “That’s only because you’ve been involved in so many actual murder investigations,” John said. “If you’d never been involved in a single one, this sort of thing might actually appeal to you.”

  Bessie put down the phone and thought about what John had said. He was probably right, she had to admit to herself. She loved reading murder mysteries, especially cosy ones set in country houses or grand estates. If she’d never found a dead body or been questioned by the police, an evening spent at Thie yn Traie analysing clues and matching wits with a pretend murderer might have sounded interesting to her. As she couldn’t change the past, though, there was little point in worrying over it.

  “May I speak to Elizabeth, please?” she said when the phone was answered at Thie yn Traie. “It’s Elizabeth Cubbon.”

  “Oh, aye, Aunt Bessie. How are you?” a familiar voice replied.

  “Jack Hooper, I’m fine, thank you. How are you?”

  “Oh, I’m very good, thanks. I’m really enjoying working at Thie yn Traie, and Mrs. Quayle is a wonderful person for whom to work.”

  “I’m sure she is,” Bessie said with a smile. Jack had been working as the butler at Thie yn Traie for a few months now and Bessie still hadn’t managed to see him there. In her mind, he was still a small boy with ginger hair, freckles, and a skinned knee. It was hard for Bessie to picture him as a formally trained butler, but Mary had told her that he was one of the best they’d ever employed.

  “I’ll get Miss Elizabeth for you,” he said.

  “Oh, wait. Before you go, what do you know about this party that Elizabeth is having on Saturday?” Bessie asked.

  “I don’t talk about the family,” Jack said in a formal voice. “At least not with anyone but you,” he continued casually. “You mean this murder mystery thing? I don’t know much, but I’m not looking forward to it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Miss Elizabeth has five or six of her friends from across coming to stay, for a start. Her friends are always incredibly demanding. And then there’s Ms. Susan Haymarket. She’s the one who’s running the actual murder mystery part. She’s been ringing three or four times a day to add to her list of things she absolutely has to have to make the evening a success. About all she hasn’t asked for at this point is a unicorn on a silver tray.”

  “My goodness.”

  “And then Mrs. Quayle has invited a few friends as well, which is lovely, because she has the nicest friends, but now she’s told me that she isn’t actually going to be going to the murder mystery part, and I’ve no idea where that leaves her share of the guests.” He sighed deeply. “I can’t believe I’m telling you all of this. I’d lose my job if you repeated any of it to Mrs. Quayle.”

  “You know I won’t say anything,” Bessie assured him. “I was just curious, as I’ve been invited, you see.”

  “Have you? Are you coming? It sounds a bit, well, tacky, if you ask me.”

  “I’m going to be coming over to spend some time with Mary. We won’t be taking part in the actual murder mystery part of the evening.”

  “I don’t blame you a bit if you’re only coming for the food,” Jack said. “Andy Caine is going to do incredible things, I’m sure. Miss Elizabeth doesn’t properly appreciate that man.”

  Bessie laughed. “I am looking forward to the food. Do you have any other skeet to share before I talk to Elizabeth?”

  “I don’t think so, but I’ll ring you back if I think of anything,” the man laughed. “Let me go and get Miss Elizabeth for you.”

  “Hello, Aunt Bessie. I hope you have good news for me,” the bubbly voice came down the line.

  “I’m sorry, but John is working on Saturday and on call on Saturday evening. He can’t attend.”

  “I didn’t think he would, really,” Elizabeth replied. “I’d be ever so upset, but I’ve just finished speaking to a police inspector from across who’s willing to come and help out. The woman organising the event has used him before and she says he’s simply fabulous.”

  “Oh, I’m so glad everything has worked out. I was afraid you’d be disappointed that John wasn’t free.”

  “I am, a little bit, only because he’d so dreamy to look at,” Elizabeth giggled. “I’m sure he’d be much more fun than the man I’ve booked, but I have to take what I can get, don’t I? Anyway, this Inspector Rhodes has done these parties before, so he’ll know what to expect more than I will. That should help.”

  “I’m glad you found someone to attend,” Bessie told her. She made a note of the man’s name. Maybe she should ring John and mention it to him, she thought as she put the phone down. Unable to decide whether or not to do so, she pottered around the kitchen and then curled up with a book. By the time she thought about ringing John again, the day was nearly over.

  Friday was Bessie’s regular day for grocery shopping. After her walk, which was happily uninterrupted this morning, she got ready for her usual car service to collect her. She’d been using the same service for a great many years, although it had changed hands some time back. Her favourite driver, Dave, turned up exactly on time.

  “A full morning in Ramsey?” he asked as he drove.

  “Yes, please,” Bessie replied. “I want to spend some time looking at books, and then I need to get my food shopping done.”

  Dave left Bessie as close to the door of the bookshop as he possibly could. “I’ll see you at ShopFast later, then,” he said cheerfully as she climbed out of the car.

  As ever, the bookshop had several books that Bessie wanted. She had an arrangement with them that had them shipping her new titles by her favourite authors whenever they came out, but that didn’t stop Bessie from finding new potentially favourite authors when she actually was in the shop. She tried to restrict herself to paperbacks, to limit what she’d have to carry around ShopFast, but today she found a hardcover she couldn’t resist.
/>   “I can add it to your next shipment if you don’t want to carry it,” the shop assistant suggested as Bessie paid for her purchases.

  “I suppose I can wait,” Bessie said, touching the book gently. She really wanted to sit somewhere in the shop and read it from cover to cover right then, but she didn’t have the time.

  “We have an order coming in on Saturday with two or three titles for you,” the girl said. “We’ll be shipping them, and this, off to you by Tuesday at the latest.”

  “Okay, then, let’s do that,” Bessie said. She pushed the book away firmly, not letting herself look at the enticing cover again.

  ShopFast was always busy in the summer months. Bessie reminded herself to be patient as summer visitors crowded the aisles, seemingly unable to find what they were looking for and for some reason determined to stand still and shout to one another about it. Dave was waiting outside when Bessie finally pushed her trolley out of the shop.

  “I hope you haven’t been waiting long,” she said as he loaded her shopping into his boot.

  “Not at all,” he assured her. “Traffic is terrible. I was worried that I was going to be late.”

  Back at home, Bessie unpacked her shopping and then glanced at her answering machine. She didn’t have any messages, but as she looked her eyes fell on the notepad next to the phone.

  “You never did ring John,” she exclaimed to herself as she reached for the phone.

  “Inspector Rhodes,” John repeated thoughtfully. “You didn’t get a Christian name?”

  “I didn’t want to look nosy,” Bessie replied, flushing.

  “Did she say he was from London?”

  “She didn’t say that specifically, just that he’d gone to similar events in London,” Bessie explained.

  “I’ll ring a few people and see what I can find out about Inspector Rhodes. I’m surprised he’s able to drop everything and come over to the island for an evening. Perhaps he’s retired from the police.”

  “He must be,” Bessie agreed. “Did I give you the name of the woman who’s organising the event?”

  “No, do you have that?”

  “Jack Hooper, the butler at Thie yn Traie, happened to mention it to me,” Bessie explained. “She’s called Susan Haymarket.”

  “I may make a few discreet inquiries into her as well. If she plans these sorts of parties on a regular basis, one of my contacts in London may well know her.”

  “You don’t suspect her of doing anything wrong, do you?” Bessie asked.

  “No, not at all, but if there have been any problems with any of her parties in the past, I’d like to know what to expect,” John explained. “Elizabeth isn’t always the best at selecting her friends and associates.”

  Bessie nodded. She knew that the police had had to speak to the girl on more than one occasion about the behaviour of some of her friends, usually when they were spending time at the small pub in Laxey. Heavy drinking on a weekend might be considered normal for young people in London, but it was frowned upon in Laxey Village.

  “She is having friends over for the party tomorrow,” Bessie warned him. “She didn’t tell me who was coming, so I don’t know if I’ve met any of them before.”

  “I’m sure it will all be fine,” John replied, “but I do appreciate your passing along the names to me. I’m especially interested in the inspector who is willing to take part in Elizabeth’s game.”

  Bessie found that she was intrigued by the man as well. John took police work very seriously. She couldn’t imagine him agreeing to take part in something like what Elizabeth was planning. As Bessie fell asleep Friday evening, she was quite looking forward to meeting Inspector Rhodes the following evening.

  Chapter 2

  Saturday was dark and dreary. Bessie kept her morning walk short, turning back as soon as she’d reached the last holiday cottage. It was the only cottage that wasn’t currently occupied, and Bessie was fairly certain that Thomas and Maggie Shimmin were planning to demolish it and build a new cottage to replace it. Bessie glanced at the cottage and shivered involuntarily. While the flashing neon sign that had illuminated the body on the bed was long gone, Bessie could still recall the eerie effect it had had on the beach the night the murdered man had been found.

  A light rain began to fall as she made her way back to her own cottage. She patted the sign that read “Treoghe Bwaane” as she dashed inside. The words were Manx for “Widow’s Cottage” and Bessie had thought them particularly apt when she’d bought her new home at the age of eighteen. While not technically a widow, she’d purchased the cottage with money left to her by the man she’d loved and lost. When she’d bought it, she’d imagined that it would be her home for a short while and that, given time, she’d meet someone else, marry, and have children. That was what women did in her day.

  The reality had turned out somewhat differently, but Bessie had no regrets. She loved her little cottage by the sea and the life that she’d made for herself. Since she’d never had children, she’d been happy to act as an honourary aunt for most of the boys and girls who grew up in Laxey. Many unhappy teenagers had spent a night or two, or sometimes considerably longer, in Bessie’s spare room. She was always wiling to listen to their problems, feed them cake, and share her thoughts on their concerns.

  The day passed quickly for Bessie. She spent much of it lost in one of Jane Austen’s books, which made a nice change from the mystery novels she usually read. For some reason those titles didn’t appeal today, but Jane Austen was almost always pleasing. Once the heroine had safely made it through all of the little trials that came her way and found her way into the hero’s arms, Bessie closed the book and was surprised to find that it was later than she’d realised.

  She changed into a black dress and matching shoes and combed her short grey hair. The quick application of just a tiny bit of makeup finished her efforts. When she looked outside, she frowned. It was still dark and grey and a light rain was falling. She’s planned on simply walking to Thie yn Traie, as it wasn’t far, but she didn’t want arrive at the party dripping wet, either. It seemed silly to ring for a taxi to take her such a short distance, but as the rain grew heavier, Bessie didn’t feel as if she had much choice. She was reaching for the telephone when someone knocked on the door.

  “Mrs. Quayle sent me to see if you’d like a ride to Thie yn Traie,” the uniformed chauffeur at the door said when Bessie opened it.

  “Oh, goodness, that would be wonderful,” Bessie replied. She grabbed her handbag and locked her cottage door behind her. The driver held an umbrella over her head as she did so and then escorted her to the car. As he reached for the rear door, Bessie shook her head.

  “Please, may I ride up front with you?” she asked. “I don’t feel comfortable in the back of fancy cars.”

  The man grinned, and then quickly recomposed his face to a practiced neutrality. “Of course, madam,” he said as he opened the passenger door for her.

  Bessie slid into the car and settled back on the plush leather seat. Nothing like arriving in style, she thought as the man drove away from her cottage.

  Thie yn Traie looked enormous as the car drove through the front gates. Bessie was used to walking up from the back of the house and rarely saw the imposing front façade. The driver stopped the car at the front door, and a man in a black uniform descended the front steps to help Bessie from the car.

  “Good evening, madam,” he said as he escorted her to the front door.

  “Good evening,” Bessie replied, feeling intimidated by the formal atmosphere. Wishing she’d walked and come in through the kitchen, Bessie let the man lead her into the huge foyer at the front of the house.

  Elizabeth dashed over to her a moment later. “I’m so glad you came,” she exclaimed happily. “Mum was worried that you’d change your mind.”

  Bessie smiled at the girl. “I told your mother I would come, but only to keep her company. I won’t be taking part in your game.”

  “That’s fine,” Eliza
beth assured her. “I’m just glad Mum will have some company. She does have some other friends coming, but I’m expecting them to play along. I didn’t want Mum just sitting by herself while everyone else is rushing about looking for clues.”

  Bessie nodded. “You look lovely tonight,” she told the girl.

  Elizabeth was wearing a bright red dress that showed off her slender figure without being too short or too tight. It made a nice change from some of the outfits Bessie had seen her wear in the past. The colour went nicely with the girl’s blonde hair, as well. “Thanks. If we were doing this right, all of the guests would have been asked to come in fancy dress, but as this is just a test run, I thought it would be easier for people to just wear their normal clothes.”

  “I still think that was a mistake,” a loud voice called across the room.

  Bessie looked at the tall brunette who was striding towards her and Elizabeth. She was wearing a black jacket and matching skirt that Bessie thought were more suited for a boardroom than a party. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun and her brown eyes were partially hidden behind unattractive square glasses.

  “Bessie, this is Susan, Susan Haymarket. She’s one of London’s most successful party planners. She’s here to teach me everything I need to know about planning murder mystery evenings,” Elizabeth said.

  “It’s very nice to meet you,” Bessie told the woman. She held out a hand. Susan shook her hand firmly.

  “It’s nice to meet you, as well. Bessie, was it?”

  “Sorry,” Elizabeth giggled. “This is Elizabeth Cubbon, but everyone calls her Bessie. Some of us even call her Aunt Bessie. She lives just down the beach from here in a darling little cottage that’s simply perfect for her. She and my mother are dear friends. She’ll be keeping Mum company once the murder mystery part of the evening starts, as she’s not interested in taking part, either.”

  Susan frowned. “It really is a fun evening,” she told Bessie.

  “I’m sure it is, for some people, but I’ve been involved in a number of actual murder investigations, and I’m not interested in being involved in a pretend one,” Bessie told her.