Aunt Bessie Finds (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 6) Read online

  “I told him that as well,” Doona said. “He didn’t seem to be listening to me, though.”

  “I hope he listens to me,” Bessie answered. “I gave him the contact details for a few friends as well. I don’t know anyone who’s actually hiring at the moment, but at least it gives him a starting point.”

  Doona sighed. “I’m not sure I want him moving back here,” she said, staring down at her empty plate.

  “Why not?” Bessie asked.

  “He’s a really nice man,” Doona said.

  “But?”

  “But he isn’t right for me. There just isn’t any spark. I’ve gone out with him nearly every night for the past fortnight, and try as I might, I can’t generate anything other than mild affection for him.”

  “Poor Spencer,” Bessie said with a small chuckle. “I hope you’ve told him that.”

  “I’ve told him that, repeatedly. He keeps insisting that I give it more time, and I do enjoy his company, so I keep agreeing. I was actually going to tell him tonight that I thought we should stop seeing each other. He keeps saying he understands how I feel, but I feel like I’m giving him false hope.”

  Bessie nodded. “I think you should stop seeing him,” she told her friend. “He did say that you’ve been very honest about your feelings, but he does seem to be hoping for more. I think the kindest thing to do is to stop seeing him.”

  “I’ll tell him tomorrow night,” Doona told Bessie. “He insisted we reschedule tonight’s meal for then.”

  “I’m still rather hoping he moves back to the island,” Bessie said. “It’s always nice when good people move back.”

  “But that’s enough about Spencer,” Doona said as she served up slices of apple pie with Bessie’s ice cream. “What is this about moving into Douglas? You can’t be serious.”

  Bessie laughed. “No, I’m not serious,” she assured her friend. “But Bahey is worried about some strange things that have been happening in the building she lives in and I told her I’d poke around a bit.”

  “Bessie, surely you know better than to get involved in any investigations,” Doona said, shaking her head. “What would John say?”

  John Rockwell, the CID inspector who ran the Laxey police station, was Doona’s boss, and was also Bessie’s friend. He valued her insider knowledge of the island and its people, but he hated when she got involved in police investigations.

  “It isn’t a proper investigation,” Bessie protested. “And nothing that’s happened would be of any interest to the police, either. There are just lots of slightly odd things happening. Bahey’s always been a bit of a worrier anyway, and since everything that happened with the Pierces she’s been somewhat worse.”

  “What’s happening exactly?” Doona demanded.

  Bessie shook her head. “I forgot all about the strange man in the empty flat,” she exclaimed.

  “What strange man?” Doona asked.

  “We heard noises in the flat underneath Bahey’s and when we went down to investigate, there was a man on the floor inside the flat. I was going to ring Inspector Corkill to see what the man had to say when the police talked to him,” Bessie explained.

  Doona quickly made a call to the station in Douglas, requesting the information.

  “They’re going to ring me back,” she told Bessie after she hung up. “In the meantime, what else is going on?”

  Bessie quickly told her friend about the handful of unusual incidents that Bahey had described. “Howard doesn’t seem to see anything odd about what’s going on,” she added. “Really, I’m just indulging Bahey. I think she’s mostly worried about her investment. Two empty flats in the building could damage the value of the remaining properties. I think she just wants me to have a look around and reassure her that there’s a good reason why the empty flats haven’t sold.”

  “What sort of good reason?”

  Bessie shrugged. “Maybe they’re both hideously decorated,” she offered. “There are a lot of reasons why a flat or house doesn’t sell. Bahey only needs one or two to make her feel better. Certainly the flat where we found the unconscious man needed new carpeting.”

  “Why didn’t she just have a look around herself?” Doona asked.

  “Ah, that’s where Alan Collins comes in,” Bessie replied. Doona’s mobile rang, interrupting them.

  Bessie watched her friend’s face as Doona murmured “yes” and “uh huh” and then “thanks,” which was nothing but frustrating.

  “So, what’s happening with the man?” Bessie asked when Doona had finished.

  “No one seems to know,” Doona replied. “He was treated at Noble’s and then checked himself out without answering a single question.”

  “So we don’t even know his name?” Bessie asked.

  “He refused to give his name or to provide an address where he was staying,” Doona told her. “The doctor who examined him reckons he was in his fifties somewhere and was reasonably fit, at least until he got into a fight with someone.”

  “And he wouldn’t answer questions about that, either, I suppose.”

  “Nope,” Doona replied. “The best guess at this point is that he’s homeless and spotted the empty flat and decided to move in, but it’s just a guess.”

  “What about the fight?”

  Doona shrugged. “Life on the street is tough,” she told Bessie. “There could be a dozen explanations, really.”

  “It’s strange to think of people being homeless on the island.”

  “It’s an old problem that never seems to go away,” Doona told her. “The Douglas Constabulary has a small division to help deal with it, but mostly it’s down to various charitable groups to try to help the people.”

  “Why didn’t he just stay in hospital, then? They would have looked after him until he was well again.”

  “Again, there could be dozens of reasons,” Doona said. “But you were going to tell me about Alan Collins,” she reminded Bessie.

  “Honestly, you’d think the flat was his personally and showing it to me was going to cost him money, the way he went on and on about it. He certainly doesn’t make it easy for people to see it, which could be why it’s just sitting on the market.”

  “He seemed rather strange on the phone when he rang me,” Doona told her. “He asked a lot of questions and I told him more than once that I didn’t think they were things that were any of his business.”

  “What did he say to that?”

  “Oh, he always had a smooth excuse for why he was asking, but I didn’t tell him everything he wanted to know, that’s for sure.”

  “What did he ask, exactly?”

  “First he said he just needed to verify that you were a real person, which, of course, I was happy to do. Then he asked about your home. He wanted to know where it was and what I thought it was worth. Of course I told him I have no idea what it’s worth. He’s an estate agent; surely he should be able to figure that one out.”

  Bessie laughed. “I’ve no idea what my cottage is worth, either,” she told Doona. “As I have no intention of ever selling it, that’s something my heirs are going to have worry about, not me.”

  Doona nodded. “Anyway, after that he wanted to know about your reasons for moving to Douglas. As we didn’t have a chance to discuss that, I just babbled on a bit about the convenience of being able to walk to the shops and whatnot. What should I have said?”

  “I don’t suppose it much matters,” Bessie said. “I said something similar and I also mentioned knowing people in the building. I’ll make something up on Monday when I meet him.”

  “He asked me what your budget was for your new flat. I told him that I had no idea and that he needed to talk about that sort of thing with you, not me.”

  Bessie shook her head. “I suppose I’ll need an answer to that by Monday as well. He did mention that he’s going to put the particulars of some other flats in the post to me. I can’t wait to see what he sends.”

  “Don’t be surprised if he sends details
for some rather expensive properties,” Doona told her. “I may have hinted that you were fairly wealthy.”

  Bessie laughed. “Let’s hope he doesn’t ring my bank manager,” she said. While she was able to live comfortably and didn’t have to worry about little extravagances like books, Bessie didn’t consider herself wealthy.

  “He also asked a bunch of very nosy questions about your family,” Doona said.

  “My family?”

  “He wanted to know how much family you had on the island, whether you had children here or across, that sort of thing.”

  “And how did he justify asking those questions?” Bessie demanded.

  “Oh, he said he was just trying to figure out how large a flat you might need. You know, you might have grandchildren across that came to stay with you for weeks at a time in the summer holidays. You’d need a guest bedroom in that case, you see.”

  Bessie nodded. “He certainly has an answer for everything,” she said. “What did you tell him?”

  “I told him that your family was mostly in America and I wasn’t sure how often they visited or where they stayed when they came.”

  “Fair enough,” Bessie said. “Did he ask you anything else?”

  “He wanted to know about your health,” Doona replied. “He asked how old you were and if your health was good.”

  “What nerve,” Bessie said angrily. “I’ve half a mind to ring him up and tell him what I think of his nosy questions.”

  “Again, he justified it by talking about the different types of accommodation that are available. There are buildings of flats for the over fifties or the over sixties, for example. He wondered if you’d be happier in a building like that, or even somewhere with basic medical staff available. I told him your age and your health were your concerns, not mine, and certainly not his.”

  “Thank you,” Bessie said. “I shall tell him much the same thing when I meet him. If I were looking for a place with medical staff, surely I would have mentioned it.” She shook her head. “I hope he’s better in person than he’s been on the phone.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it,” Doona said with a laugh. “After he’d finished asking all those rude questions, he actually asked me out.”

  “He did say that you sounded ‘quite interesting,’” Bessie told her. “He asked if you’d be coming on the house hunt with me.”

  “I could ask John for the morning off, if you want me along,” Doona said.

  “Don’t be silly,” Bessie replied. “You go and do your job and I’ll deal with Alan Collins. All I want is a sneaky look around an empty flat so that I can set Bahey’s mind at ease. It isn’t a big deal.”

  Doona looked as if she might argue, but in the end she opted for a second, somewhat smaller, helping of pie instead. Bessie just had ice cream this time around.

  Thursday was uneventful for Bessie, although she found she was appreciating her little cottage and her wonderful views even more than she usually did as she flirted with the notion of a holiday. She even let her mind play with the idea of moving to Douglas. Of course it was just make-believe, but it was interesting to consider.

  There had been a brief period of time in her life, many years earlier, when she’d considered moving to Australia, but beyond that she’d never really considered leaving her little cottage. Now she let her mind run with the idea, thinking about what furniture she’d keep and what she wouldn’t miss and how she could possibly thin out her enormous book collection. After everything that had happened recently, it proved to be an interesting exercise for her brain.

  On Friday she made her usual trip into Ramsey for shopping. Her favourite driver, Dave, from her regular taxi service, picked her up after her morning walk.

  “How are you, my dear?” he asked, his usual cheery question seemingly laced with some concern.

  “I’m fine, Dave. How are you?” Bessie replied.

  “Oh, I’m good. I’m just a little worried since I hear that my favourite customer might be moving to Douglas, that’s all.”

  Bessie sighed deeply. “Really? Should I ask where you heard that from or is it such widespread skeet now that you can’t even remember?”

  Dave laughed. “My mother-in-law knows a girl who works part-time for Island Choice Properties, so that’s where I heard it. But you can bet if my mother-in-law heard about it, the rest of the island has as well.”

  “It’s quite out of line for the girl to be gossiping about customers,” Bessie said sharply.

  “Oh, aye, but she’s young and stupid,” Dave told her cheerfully. “It’s only a part-time, temporary job anyway, and I hear she isn’t fond of the boss. Maybe she’s hoping to get fired.”

  “Well, I’m happy to talk to her boss and recommend just that,” Bessie replied. “I’m really unhappy with the idea that people are talking about my moving.”

  “So you really are thinking about moving?” Dave asked.

  “I don’t know,” Bessie said, her mind racing. “I wasn’t really, and then I had lunch with a friend at her flat in Douglas and she mentioned that there was a flat for sale in the building. It seemed like a nice place, and being close to the shops and the museum for my research made it seem even more tempting. Anyway, all I’ve done is ask to have a look around the flat. I’ll probably hate it and that will be the end of that.”

  “Well, let me know if you do decide to move,” Dave told her. “I’ll have to get on to the boss and get him to transfer me to Douglas for you.”

  Bessie laughed. “I’ll let you know,” she promised.

  Dave let her off in front of the large bookstore, agreeing to collect her from ShopFast after she’d had time to do all the shopping she needed to do. Inside the bookstore, she spent a happy half-hour browsing the shelves.

  “Ah, Bessie, but you aren’t moving to Douglas because they have a better bookstore, are you?” the young assistant asked her when she went to check out with her purchases.

  “I don’t know that I’m moving to Douglas at all,” Bessie told her, trying not to sound as annoyed as she felt. It wasn’t the girl’s fault that the person at the estate agency had a big mouth. “And if I do move, I shall be sure to keep shopping here regularly. You know this is my favourite bookstore on the island.”

  “That’s good to know,” the girl said as she bagged Bessie’s books. “Some weeks I think you’re the only person keeping us in business.”

  Bessie wandered through a few charity shops, but didn’t find anything to add to her purchases. Staff in two out of the five shops questioned Bessie about her proposed move. The other three were staffed by quite young women who didn’t seem to care about much of anything other than chatting on their phones or painting their fingernails.

  ShopFast was busy, and Bessie fought back a sigh as she collected a trolley and pushed it into the store. She guessed that she’d have at least a dozen people stop to question her, and she was only off by one by the time she exited the store.

  Maggie Shimmin was the first person she saw as she made her way through the fruit and vegetable section.

  “Bessie, tell me it’s all a vicious lie,” she called from the bananas.

  Bessie shook her head. “I can’t believe how excited everyone is getting over something so simple,” she told the fifty-something woman with the long dark hair. “All I did was ask to see a flat, because I was curious what it might be like. Everyone is acting like I’ve put my cottage on the market and packed my things.”

  “If you do decide to sell,” Maggie told her, “please let us have first refusal. I know Thomas would love to build more holiday cottages.”

  Maggie and her husband Thomas owned the row of rental cottages that stretched along the beach next to Bessie’s cottage.

  “I’m not planning on selling,” Bessie said, just barely repressing a sigh. “But if I do, you’ll be among the first to know.”

  “The cottages are really hard work,” Maggie told her. “But Thomas loves the work and he loves working for himself. He works far
more hours than he ever did when he was in banking, but he never complains.”

  Maggie complained enough for both of them, as far as Bessie was concerned, but she smiled. “Are you shopping for the cottages today?” she asked, glancing at her friend’s trolley. It was already nearly full of staples like bread and pasta and jars of sauce. Maggie was adding bunches of bananas to the collection.

  “I am, indeed,” she told Bessie. “I have to shop for them folks every single day. Thomas insists that we offer grocery delivery on a daily basis, since people are coming and going all the time. He doesn’t seem to care that I’m the one who spends all her time running back and forth to Ramsey to fill their orders.”

  “At least it’s already August,” Bessie said. “Only a few more months and tourist season will be over.”

  Maggie sighed. “And then I’ll be stuck with Thomas at home and underfoot until the spring,” she said. “Anyway, must dash.”

  Bessie’s reply was lost on the woman’s back as she rushed away. Shaking her head, Bessie decided she might as well buy a few bananas since she’d been looking at them for so long. The trip around the grocery store took far longer than it should have. In nearly every aisle Bessie had to reassure friends and acquaintances that she was only just vaguely thinking about moving and that nothing was decided yet.

  “I suppose, at your age, being closer to Noble’s must be a temptation,” one woman mused. Bessie bit her tongue.

  “I can’t believe you’d give up your views,” another remarked. “I’ll bet Thomas Shimmin would pay a fortune for your place, though. He’ll just tear it down and build more of those ugly little cottages of his, more’s the pity.”

  By the time Bessie was done with her shopping, she was beginning to think that her simple little plan to help Bahey was turning into a huge nightmare. Dave was waiting for her, as planned, and Bessie was happy to get home. Of course, her answering machine was full of messages from concerned and nosy friends and neighbours. She listened to them all and then deleted the lot, only returning a single call.