1 Aunt Bessie Assumes (20 page)

“But I thought the police arrested someone,” Donny
said.

“They have,” Vikky answered.
 
“Some chemist who was dealing drugs on
the side.
 
They seem to think that
Danny was taking drugs and his murder was a drug deal gone bad.”

“Preposterous,” Mrs. Pierce erupted.
 
“My son did not take drugs,” she said insistently.
 
“And I won’t hear anyone say otherwise.”

Bessie glanced over at Donny, but he was staring
at his mother intently.
 
Bessie gave
a mental shrug.
 
She wasn’t going to
tell Mrs. Pierce where the police first got the idea.
 
The family had enough problems without Bessie
suggesting that Donny knew about Danny’s drug issues.

Mrs. Pierce looked over at Bessie.
 
“I know that when you were here a few
days ago I was a little bit out of it,” she told Bessie.
 
“But you need to understand that when
they told me about Danny, I, well, I guess I sort of lost control.”
 
The woman frowned and looked away for a
moment.
 

“You don’t need to explain anything to me,”
Bessie began, but Mrs. Pierce held up a hand.

“I feel that I do,” she told Bessie.
 
“We, as a family, have always been
passionate opponents of the use of illegal drugs.
 
We aren’t even that fond of legal
ones.
 
I take headache tablets
rarely, and my husband hasn’t taken anything in years.
 
The doctor who treated me when I found
out about Danny gave me something strong to help me get through the first few
days.
 
I was very tempted to keep
taking them.
 
Forgetting my pain had
a certain appeal, but that would have been cowardly.
 
So I stopped taking them, and I shan’t
take them again.”

Bessie nodded at her.
 
“You’re a strong woman,” she told her.

“In spite of all the money and the trappings
that go with it,” Mrs. Pierce waved an arm to encompass the house and
surroundings, “my husband and I have had to deal with our share of misfortune
and even tragedy.
 
And we’ve done so
without medicating ourselves.
 
Oh,
yes, Mr. Pierce likes a few fingers of whisky now and then and I love a good
glass of white wine, but we’ve never gone beyond that and we’ve always insisted
that our children stay clear of such temptations as well.”

Bessie nodded, feeling at a complete loss as to
what to say.

“Now you can run home and tell your police
friends everything my mother has said,” Donny said angrily.
 
“Then they’ll have to take another look
at me and Vikky as suspects, I guess.
 
Too bad I didn’t have any motive.”

Vikky sat up and gave him a dirty look.
 
“What the hell is that supposed to
mean?” she demanded.

Donny passed a hand over his face.
 
“Nothing,” he muttered.
 

Vikky glared at him.
 
“Just because I knew Jack White before
he came over here, doesn’t mean that I had anything to do with anything,” she
said angrily.

Bessie looked over at her in surprise and then
bit her tongue.
 
She was finding out
much more than she bargained for already.
 
If she started asking questions she might make people go quiet.

“Exactly how well did you know him?” Donny
sneered at her.

Vikky shook her head.
 
“He was friends with a friend of mine,”
she sighed.
 
“We went through all
this when he was arrested,” she said.
 
“I told you everything then.”

“Well, whatever your friend Mr. White is telling
the police, it obviously means they suspect one of us.
 
Otherwise, why wouldn’t they just let us
go?”
 
Donny sounded a good deal more
sober suddenly.

“Maybe you should ask her,” Vikky suggested,
pointing at Bessie.
 
“You seem to
think she has connections to the police.”

“I know she does,” Donny replied.
 
“So, tell us, dear Aunt Bessie, what do
the police think we’re guilty of?”

Bessie shook her head.
 
“I don’t know anything.”
 
She was sure she was repeating
herself.
 
“Doona is an old friend
who visits often and Hugh has been sleeping at my place because he’s worried
about my being on my own with a murderer running around.
 
Neither one of them has told me anything
about the case.
 
Doona did mention
Jack White’s arrest, but that was all she was able to tell me.”

Donny stared at her for a moment and then
slumped back on the couch.
 
“Never
mind,” he said softly.
 
“I’m a
little drunk and a lot fed up and I’m looking for someone to blame.
 
I can only assume that Jack White is
trying to save himself by telling all sorts of lies and that the police have to
figure out if there’s any truth in them before we can go.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” Mrs. Pierce told her
son soothingly.
 
“Why don’t you go
up and have a nap?
 
I’ll have Bahey
call you for dinner in a little while.
 
I’ll see if she can make you one of your favourites.”

Donny smiled at his mother.
 
“I’m really okay,” he told her
gently.
 
“But I guess a nap might do
me some good.”
 
He stood up and
smiled at them all.
 
“Sorry for my
outbursts,” he said to them all before he turned to Bessie.
 
“I do appreciate your taking the time to
visit,” he told her.
 
“I didn’t
realise how much Sam meant to me until she was gone.”

Bessie nodded.
 
“That’s often the case,” she said
softly.
 
Donny nodded and then
walked slowly to the door.
 

“Thanks again,” he said softly, looking back at
Bessie with tears in his eyes.

As the door shut behind him, Mrs. Pierce let out
a sigh of relief.
 
Bessie looked
over at her.

“He’s suffering so much,” Mrs. Pierce told her
sadly.
 
“He idolised his big brother
and he was really falling for Samantha.
 
It’s been so very hard on him.”

“It must be very hard for all of you,” Bessie
said sympathetically.
 
“I wish there
was something I could do….” she trailed off, unable to think of anything to
offer.

“You can tell your police friends to let us go,”
Vikky suggested grumpily.
 
“Tell
them that you’re sure we’re all innocent.”

Bessie just barely held back a sigh.
 
“I wish, for your sake, that I had that
sort of influence with them,” she lied politely.
 
“Unfortunately, they aren’t interested in
my opinion.”

Vikky shrugged.
 
“I think I’ll go and have a cup of tea
with the security guys,” she said as she climbed to her feet.
 

Mrs. Pierce watched her go with a sad look on
her face.
 
“I wish I could say that
I thought she was suffering as well,” she told Bessie as the door swung shut
behind Vikky.
 
“But I’m not sure
that she really cared about my son at all.”

Bessie reached across and patted the other
woman’s arm.
 
“I’m so sorry,” she
muttered, feeling ineffectual.

“Thank you my dear,” Mrs. Pierce answered,
giving Bessie a forced smile.
 
“And
now I must ask you to excuse me.
 
I
think that all this talking about naps has made me tired. I’m going to go and
rest for a short time.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Bessie told her
as she and the other woman both rose to their feet.
 
“I hope you feel better after some
rest.
 
And I hope you have a safe
journey home on Monday.”

“I just hope they let us leave on Monday,” Mrs.
Pierce said tiredly.
 
“I think we’ll
all feel better getting away from here.
 
And we have a funeral to plan as well,” she sighed.
 
“That doesn’t even bear thinking about.”

Bessie patted her arm again and then, with the
younger woman leaning heavily on Bessie’s arm, the pair made their way to the
door.
 
Bessie watched as Mrs. Pierce
made her way down the hall, further into the house.
 
Bessie could see that she was struggling
to maintain her self-control as she turned a corner and disappeared from
view.
 
The sound of a tiny sob
reached Bessie’s ears as she turned to walk back to where her coat and umbrella
had been left.

Chapter
Eleven

“Did you have a nice visit, then?” Bahey
asked Bessie, appearing at Bessie’s side from somewhere in the depths of the
house after Bessie had taken only a few steps away from the great room.
 

Bessie paused.
 
“I wouldn’t call it nice,” she answered
sadly.
 
“The whole family seems so
shattered.”

“Aye, they are at that,” Bahey told
her.
 
“And from what I’m hearing,
it’s going to get worse.”

“What have you heard?” Bessie asked,
trying to keep excitement from her voice.

Bahey looked around to make sure they couldn't
be overheard.  The pair made their way slowly towards the back door as
Bahey spoke.
 
“Mrs. Pierce was on the
phone to the Chief Constable earlier, before you came,” Bahey whispered.  “I
was just taking her up a cup of tea and I couldn't help but overhear.
 
She always puts her calls on the speaker
because she has trouble hearing and she finds that easier.”

Bessie held back a grin.  She had no doubt
that Bahey could have helped it if she'd actually wanted to.  “So what did
you hear?”

“Mrs. Pierce was asking why they couldn’t leave.
 She's really desperate to get off the island now,” Bahey told her sadly.
 “Anyway, apparently Jack White has been telling the police all sorts of
things.  I guess the police have plenty of evidence that proves he was
selling drugs, but nothing that ties him to the murders.  Now he's afraid
they're going to try to pin the murders on him, so he's talking fast and
implicating everyone from Mr. Pierce himself to the men who empty the dustbins!”

Bessie shook her head.  “No honour among
thieves, I guess,” she said.  “Still, I suppose we should be happy if he
can help the police find the murderer.  Assuming he really didn't do them
himself.”

“The Chief Constable told Mrs. Pierce that there's
a witness who saw Jack on the beach that night,” Bahey hissed.

Bessie gasped.  “Has he admitted to being
there?” she asked.

“Apparently, he told the police he was meeting
Vikky,” the other woman said.  

“Meeting Vikky?  Why?”

“I guess he was the old boyfriend who sent the
racy text message,” Bahey told her.  “I’ve heard that he and Vikky used to
be a couple.  But the police aren't sure if Vikky got the message or not.
 Vikky claims that Danny took her phone away before Jack sent the message,
so she never went to meet up with him.” 

“And what did Jack say to that?”

“I don't know,” Bahey said frustratedly.  “Mrs.
Pierce didn't ask that.”

Bessie frowned in disappointment.  “Did you
hear anything else?” she asked.

“The rest of the call was all about how Danny
couldn't possibly have been doing drugs,” Bahey sighed.   “As if he were
always the perfect child.”

“And he wasn’t?” Bessie asked.

“Oh, he wasn't too bad, I guess,” Bahey grinned.
 “He was never as bad as his brother, anyway.  But they both had their
share of teenaged,
well,
hijinks might be the right
word.  They both snuck drink out of their parents’ liquor cabinet on more
than one occasion and I'm pretty sure they both at least tried drugs more than
once or twice. I'm not suggesting that either of them got hooked on anything,
but they weren't as sweet and innocent as their mum thinks, either.”

Bessie nodded.
 
What Bahey was saying made sense.
 In her experience, few children were ever as perfect they appeared in
their mother’s eyes.  

“Anyway,” Bahey continued, “it seems that Jack White
is busy pointing fingers in every possible direction and the police aren't
willing to let the family go until they've checked out what he's saying.”

“No one seems happy about that,” Bessie said.

“No, I expect no one is happy,” Bahey agreed.
 “It's hard to tell with Mr. Pierce.
 
He just keeps wandering off on his own.  Mrs. Pierce doesn't seem
to know what to do with
herself
.  Mr. Donny is
devastated and drunk most of the time and Miss Vikky just keeps behaving like a
spoiled child.”  Bahey sighed.

“What about the staff?” Bessie asked,
remembering that Inspector Rockwell had mentioned them as possible suspects.

“What about them?” Bahey echoed.  “I don't
really know any of them.  They were all hired locally, just for this
visit.
 
Apparently there’s a service
in Ramsey that dealt with it all.
 
I
think the girls all come up from Douglas during the day, and I know the driver
does.
 
None of them are staying
here, although the security team is working twenty-four hours a day, of
course.”
 

“Doesn’t the family usually bring their own
staff with them?” Bessie asked.

“When I worked for them, I always went wherever
the family went, but the housekeeper who replaced me had to have an emergency
appendectomy the day before they left.
 
Her husband, who usually does most of the
driving and errands, obviously stayed behind to be with her.”
 
Bahey shrugged.
 
“I can’t imagine any of the temporary
help having any reason to kill Danny or Samantha.”

Bessie sighed.  “If Jack White isn't the killer,
then it must have been one of the family,” she said quietly.  

Bahey shook her head.  “It weren't,” she
said emphatically.  “It had to be something random if it wasn't Jack White.
 I bet Danny saw the text from Jack and went out to confront him.  Either
Jack killed him or he was doing a drug deal and Danny interrupted and the other
guy killed him.  That could have happened.”

Bessie nodded.  “Yes, I suppose you're
right,” she agreed.  “But what about Samantha?”

“Maybe she followed Danny on the night he died
and saw him get murdered.  I don’t know, maybe she was trying to blackmail
the killer or something.”

Bessie nodded again, this time with less
certainty. 

“Anyway, I just know it wasn't anyone in the
family,” Bahey told her.  “I've known them my whole life; they aren't
killers, none of them.”

“You haven't known Vikky your whole life,”
Bessie pointed out.

“Aye, but it's just too sad to think of her
killing her own husband only days after their wedding,” Bahey answered.  

Bessie thought about arguing with her friend but
decided against it.  In a way, Bahey was right.
 
It was sad to suspect the young widow of
killing her husband while on their honeymoon.  Still, whatever Bahey
thought, Bessie wasn't ruling Vikky out as a suspect.

“I’d better get back to the kitchen,” Bahey told
Bessie.  “I promised I'd make one of Mr. Donny's favourites tonight to try
to cheer him up.  Their temporary cook doesn't much like it when I'm in
the kitchen, but tonight she's going to have to deal with it.”

Bessie grinned at her.  “Have fun,” she
said.  “I've got a long and cold walk back along the road to home to get
through before I get my dinner.”

Bahey disappeared back towards the kitchen as
Bessie set the bag that Vikky had given her down and put her still damp coat
back on.  She buttoned it up tightly and then grabbed her umbrella from the
corner where Robert had left it.  With a resigned sigh, she pulled open
the door and looked out at the relentless rain.  

“The police have taken down the crime scene
tape.”  The voice was completely unexpected and it made Bessie jump.
 

“I didn't mean to startle you,” Robert Clague told
her.  “I noticed you were getting ready to leave and I wanted to tell you
that the police have finally taken down the crime scene tape.  You can
walk home along the beach now.  That has to be faster.”

Bessie smiled at him even as she wondered how
long he had been standing near her.  She certainly hadn't noticed his
approach.   How much of her conversation with Bahey had he overheard?
 

“That's good to know,” she told him.  “It’s
definitely faster, once I find my way down to the beach.”

“It isn't hard,” the man laughed lightly.  “There
are a series of short flights of stairs down to the sand.  I'll take you
down,” he offered.  

“That would be great,” Bessie replied.  She
stepped outside and popped her umbrella up.  Behind her Robert followed,
pulling the door shut as he took her arm.

“Be careful,” he counselled.
 
“Everything is probably slippery with
all this rain.”

Bessie took his arm gratefully as they made
their way along the driveway beside the house.  After a short time, a path
that skirted along behind the house appeared.  

Robert stopped as something buzzed in his
pocket.
 
“Hello?” he said into his
mobile phone that he struggled to shield from the rain.
 
He sighed deeply and then disconnected
the call.
 

“I would love to be able to walk you the rest of
the way,” he told Bessie, “but I've got to get back and deal with an, um, issue
that's come up.  If you follow the path behind the house, after a short
while it branches off down towards the beach.”

“I'm sure I'll find it,” Bessie told him, nearly
shouting to be heard over the heavy rain that was pounding on her umbrella, the
house roof and the ground around them.

“No doubt,” Robert grinned at her.  “Take
care of yourself,” he told her before he dashed away, presumably wanting to get
out of the rain as quickly as possible.   

“Can't say as I blame him,” Bessie said to
herself as she followed the path.  It insisted on winding around in a
pointlessly circuitous fashion that was probably charming on a warm spring day,
but was simply unnecessarily torturous in the heavy rain.  The noisy
banging on her umbrella began to make Bessie's
head ache
.
 

Finally, she came to a split in the path, with
one fork clearly heading off towards the expanse of beach below.  Bessie
couldn't help but take a minute to admire the view, which was striking in spite
of the weather.  As she started down the first short flight of stairs, she
paused.  Could she hear footsteps behind her?

She turned cautiously, peering around her
oversized umbrella.  There was no one there.  She continued down the
steps, shaking her head at how her mind was playing tricks on her.  As the
first flight ended, she thought she heard another sound behind her.
 Again, carefully, she turned around.  Again, she could see no one.

She sighed at her own jumpiness and took off
down the short and winding path that led to the next flight of stairs.  Again,
she paused briefly to admire the view.
 
Although she wasn’t that far from her own cottage, the view of the sea
seemed completely different from here.

The next flight of stairs was longer, maybe
twenty steps, and it was steeper as well.  Bessie grabbed the handrail
tightly with the hand that was also carrying the bag that Vikky had given her.
 
Holding the railing felt awkward as she
started down the steps.

After two steps she heard yet another sound that
seemed to come from behind her.  She paused, wondering if it was worth
turning around yet again. She listened intently but could only hear the
drumming rain.  She started down the next step, sliding her hand down the
railing, trying to keep a firm grip on the slippery wet metal.

Suddenly two strong hands pushed her from
behind.  She grabbed at the railing, but couldn't hold on.  The bag
slipped from her grip and the umbrella flew from her other hand as she grasped
at thin air.  She felt herself tumbling
downwards
,
out of control and unable to stop.