Aunt Bessie Finds (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 6) (24 page)

“I’m sure we’ll all have a wonderful time,” Bessie murmured.

“Of course we will,” George said firmly.

A woman in a dark suit now appeared in the doorway next to George.

“Mr. Quayle, the guests have begun to arrive,” she said.

“Oh bother,” George said with a sigh.
 
“I guess I have to go and play host,
then.”

He turned and strode away, leaving Bessie on
her
own to wonder at his
words.
 
She’d
never known him to shy away from hosting duties in the past.

Mary dashed in only a few moments later.
 
“People are arriving,” she told
Bessie.
 
“Are you ready to come and
be sociable?
 
I don’t have a choice,
of course.”

Bessie smiled.
 
“I
suppose, as it’s a party, I should make the effort.
 
I’d rather stay here and read, though,
really.”

“Me, too,” Mary said.
 
The smile she gave Bessie looked forced.
 
“Off we go, then.”

The pair made their way through the house and out the back door
again.
 
Now Mary led Bessie down a
different path and into a section of the grounds that she hadn’t seen
before.
 
They walked through a small
gate in a long fence and Bessie felt as if she’d been transported somewhere
else altogether.

“It’s an American theme,” Mary muttered to her.

Bessie shook her head.
 
A large barn had been erected in the middle of the grass, but it looked
as if it were hundreds of years old, with weathered boards that seemed to have
been painted a very long time ago.
 
There were gaps between some of the boards and some were missing
altogether.
 
The roof looked as if
it were only just barely intact.
 

She made her way into the barn and looked around.
 
There were tables and chairs set up
along one side of the barn and a large platform, presumably for dancing, was in
place on the other side.
 
A huge bar
was set up in the back of the space.
 
It appeared to be made entirely of bales of hay.
 
Behind it, several young men dressed as
cowboys were serving drinks to the small crowd that had arrived early.
 
Through the gaps in the boards on one
side of the barn, Bessie could see several large barbeque grills had been set
up nearby.
 
She could just smell the
smoke as the men behind them fired them up.

“Come on over to the bar and I’ll introduce you to Paul,” Mary told
her.

Bessie followed her friend to the bar.
 
Mary waved to one of the “cowboys” and
he quickly made his way over to them.

“Good afternoon, ma’am,” he greeted Mary.
 
“What can I get for you?”

“Gin and tonic,” Mary answered.
 
“But first, this is Bessie.”

Bessie held out her hand and the man took it, giving Bessie a huge
smile.
 
“Very nice to meet you,
Bessie.”

“Paul is our butler, household manager and a dozen other things,”
Mary told Bessie.
 
“If there’s
anything you want or need, just let him know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Bessie said.
 
She smiled at the man.
 
“I suppose a gin and tonic would be a
good start.”

“Right away,” Paul said.
 
He was only gone for a moment or two and when he returned, he was
carrying their drinks.

“Here we are,” he said, handing the drinks over.
 
“Let me know if there’s anything else
you need.”

“I think we’re good for now,” Mary replied.

Bessie took a sip of her drink and smiled.
 
She hadn’t had gin and tonic in many
years and she’d forgotten how much she liked it.

“I have to go and play hostess,” Mary said to her quietly.
 
“Are you going to be okay on your own?”

“Of course,” Bessie answered firmly.
 
“Anyway, Doona will be here soon.”

Mary slipped away.
 
Bessie knew Mary was painfully shy and that the day would be something
of an ordeal for her.
 
She watched
as Mary joined George in a small group near the barn’s entrance.
 
He was quick to put his arm around his
wife, and Bessie hoped he would look after her all evening.

Bessie was chatting happily with Mary’s daughter Elizabeth when
Doona finally arrived nearly two hours later.

“There you are,” Doona said, giving her friend a hug as Elizabeth
slipped away.
 
“I wasn’t sure I’d
ever find you in this crowd.”

Bessie looked around.
 
The spacious barn was feeling quite crowded as more and more guests had arrived.

“Maybe we should go outside,” Bessie suggested.

The pair made their way to the front of the barn.
 
The gardens around it seemed to spread
out in every direction and for a moment Bessie was tempted to just start
walking.
 
“We can’t just sneak away,”
she said firmly to herself.

“I wasn’t suggesting we should,” Doona said, looking at Bessie in
surprise.

“Oh, did I say that out loud?” Bessie asked with a laugh.
 
“Maybe I’ve had more to drink than I
should have.”

“Bessie, there you are,” George’s voice boomed across the
garden.
 
“You must meet Grant.”

Bessie forced a smile onto her lips before she turned around.
 
“George, what a lovely party,” she
said.
 
“You remember my friend,
Doona?”

“Of course, and you look lovely tonight.”
 
George took
Doona’s
hand and held it tightly for a moment.
 
“If only I had time to stay and chat with you.
 
Unfortunately, I’m rushing about making
sure everyone is having fun.”
 
He
dropped
Doona’s
hand and then turned back to Bessie.

“Come and meet Grant,” he insisted.
 
He took Bessie’s arm and led her across
the grass and back into the barn.
 
Doona followed as they made their way to the bar.
 

Bessie
recognised
the man more from
photos she’d seen in the local papers over the years than from previous
encounters.
 
He looked even more
slick and polished in person that he had in the photos.
 
Grant Robertson had to be in his
sixties, but his dark and perfectly styled short hair didn’t seem to have a
single grey strand.
 
He was tall and
lean, and as George introduced them, Bessie felt his cool and calculating eyes
assessing her.

“I can’t believe we’ve both lived on the island all these years and
we’ve never become friends,” he said in a deep, silky smooth voice.

“I don’t spend much time in Douglas,” Bessie said, annoyed to hear
that her tone was apologetic as she spoke.

“Or rather, you didn’t,” Grant suggested.
 
“I understand you’re trying out our fair
city at the moment.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Bessie replied.
 
“And I can’t thank you enough for
renting me the flat at
Seaview
Terrace.”

“Ah, I must confess to ulterior motives,” the man said with a
chuckle.
 
“I’m tired of that flat
sitting empty.
 
I’m hoping you’ll
fall in love with it and buy it from me, you see.”

Bessie smiled.
 
“Anything’s possible.”

Bessie introduced Doona and then stood back to watch the man turn
his considerable charm on to her.
 
He held her hand for far too long after the introductions, staring into
Doona’s
eyes as if she were the only woman in the
room.
 

“And where have you been hiding all these years?” he asked Doona.

“Actually, we’ve met before,” Doona said, pulling her hand away.

Grant frowned and studied her for a moment.
 
“It was the grand opening of the
Beachside Hotel, wasn’t it?” he said after a moment.
 
“You were with the hotel’s district
manager who’d come over for the event.”

Doona nodded.
 
“You have
a good memory.”

“I never forget a beautiful woman,” he countered.
 
“You aren’t still with him, are you?”

“No,” Doona said.

Grant smiled.
 
“That’s a
very succinct answer.
 
Why do I
think there’s a story behind it?”

Doona shook her head.
 
“It’s of no consequence,” she said.

“But I’m intrigued by you,” the man told her.
 
“Maybe we could have a drink one night
and you could tell me about the things that are of consequence to you?”

“I don’t think so,” Doona replied.
 
“Thank you for asking, but I’m otherwise
involved.”

Grant frowned.
 
“How
terribly disappointing,” he said.
 
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card and a pen.
 
After jotting something on the back of
the card, he handed it to Doona.

“My card.
 
The number on
the back is my private mobile number.
 
If you change your mind, give me a ring.”
 
He turned back to Bessie and smiled
smarmily at her, reaching back into his pocket again.

“One for you as well.
 
I’m sure you won’t need my private number, but if you have any issues or
concerns about the flat or anything, please don’t hesitate to ring my
office.
 
My staff will look after
you.”

He gave them both a quick smile and then picked up his drink.
 
“I must go and
socialise
,”
he told them, slipping past them.

Bessie turned to Doona and blew out a breath she hadn’t
realised
she’d been holding.
 
“Wow, he was, well, intense, I guess is
a good word.”

“Very,” Doona agreed.
 
“And creepy.”

Fresh drinks in hand, the pair joined the queue for food and then
found space at one of the picnic tables.
 
Once they’d eaten, Bessie felt as if she’d had enough of the festivities
and Doona was happy to agree.

They found George and Mary and quickly thanked them for the lovely
party.
 
Mary looked miserable, but
she managed to smile when Bessie invited her to her housewarming the next day.

“I’ll try to make it,” she promised, as George pulled her away to
greet someone else.

Bessie sighed deeply when she finally climbed into
Doona’s
car.
 
“That was something of an ordeal,” she said to her friend.
 
“Let’s hope my party tomorrow is less
stressful and more fun.”

Chapter Eleven

Bessie slept slightly better on the third night in her new
flat.
 
She woke up once, around
three, certain that someone was walking around outside her door.
 
By the time she’d thrown on her robe and
slippers, however, the noises she’d been hearing had stopped.
 
She was reluctant to open her door at
that hour of the night, but she stood behind it, listening for several
minutes.
 
When she heard nothing
further, she took herself back to bed.

Awake again at six, she showered, dressed and ate a bowl of cereal
with milk.
 
The cup of tea she used
to wash it down helped her feel more like herself.
 
She headed out for her morning walk.
 
The mirror that was still hanging
outside of her door caught her frown.
 
This morning her welcome mat was upside
down.
 
Bessie flipped it over and
shook her head.
 
While it was a
harmless enough prank, it unsettled her.
 
The “out of order” sign on the lift didn’t improve her mood.

Bessie stomped over to the stairs, yanking open the fire door.
 
The stairs were poorly lit, but Bessie
didn’t have a choice.
 
She headed
down them.
 
At the bottom, she
pulled on the fire door.
 
It didn’t
budge.
 
She frowned and tried it a
second time, but it was no use.
 
The
door seemed to be locked.
 
Surely
that couldn’t be right, she thought to herself.
 
What if there was a fire?
 
She made her way back up the stairs to
the first floor and pulled on the door she’d just come through.
 
It too seemed to be locked.
 
Bessie sighed deeply and then turned and
went back down.
 
Ignoring the ground
floor door, she headed down even further, into the building’s lower,
subterranean level.
 

She pulled on the fire door at the bottom of the last flight of
stairs and was relieved when it opened easily.
 
The room where she found herself wasn’t
large and it was only very dimly lit.
 
Bessie walked carefully through
it,
heading
towards what she hoped was a way out.
 
There were several suitcases and boxes in piles all around the space and
Bessie wondered who all of the things belonged to.
 
If it had been better lit and less
creepy in the space, she might have investigated further.
 
As it was, she rushed through the room
and then found herself in a short corridor.
 
At one end of the corridor, she spotted
a few steps that led up to a door that had to lead to the outside.
 

She felt a rush of relief as she pushed it open and found herself
looking at the building’s car park.
 
As she let the door shut behind her, she heard an angry shout.

“Hey, what were you doing down there?” the voice yelled.

Bessie turned around and squared her shoulders as Nigel Green
stormed towards her.

“I said, what were you doing in the basement?” he said, stepping
right up to her and glaring down at her.

“I was trying to find a way out,” Bessie replied, working hard to
keep her voice level.
 
“The lift is
out of order and the fire doors are all locked.
 
What was I meant to do?”

“There’s nothing wrong with the lift,” he snarled at her.

“Well, there’s an ‘out of order’ sign on it,” Bessie countered.

“And the fire doors aren’t ever locked,” he continued as if she
hadn’t spoken.
 
“It’s against the
law to lock them.”

“They were locked when I tried them,” Bessie replied.
 
“From the inside, anyway.
 
I suggest you go and check the lift and
the doors and stop shouting at me.”

He opened his mouth, probably to argue, but then snapped it
shut.
 
“Thank you for alerting me to
the problems,” he said tightly.
 
“I’ll get right on fixing them.”
 
He spun on his heel and took a few steps away from her before turning
back.
 

“There are some things of mine in the basement that shouldn’t be
there,” he said, giving Bessie a sheepish grin.
 
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention
that to Mr. Robertson or Mr. Quayle.
 
It’s just that my mother had so much stuff when she moved in with
me,
I didn’t have anywhere else to put it.
 
I’m working on getting rid of it all,
but it’s difficult.”

Bessie shrugged.
 
“It
really isn’t my concern,” she said.
 
“I’m far more interested in getting my morning walk in.”

“Sorry,” he said, flushing.
 
“Off you go.
 
I’ll make sure
everything’s sorted out here before you get back.”

The walk down to the beach only took a few minutes and Bessie
strolled happily across the sand, enjoying the early morning sunshine and
putting Nigel Green firmly out of her mind.
 
The forecast she’d heard on the morning
radio had suggested rain later, but it certainly didn’t feel like it at the
moment.
 
After so many years walking
on
Laxey
beach, the change of scenery had Bessie
walking far further than she usually did.
 
Almost without
realising
it, Bessie found
herself standing in front of the Summerland complex.
 

For several minutes she stood and stared at the large building that
now housed a roller-skating rink, a children’s play area and a ballroom, among
other things.
 
She sighed deeply,
remembering the original building that had stood there in the early nineteen-seventies.
 
She’d only been inside that building a
handful of times, but it had made an unforgettable impression on her.
 

The new building, although large, was smaller than the original
that had housed a dance floor, restaurants and bars.
 
The original
centre
had only been open for a few years before it was destroyed by fire.
 
Bessie thought of the fifty people who
had died in that fire, one of the island’s most devastating tragedies.
 
There was nothing about the replacement
building that hinted at its tragic history.
 
Bessie couldn’t help but feel that some
sort of memorial was appropriate.
 
Perhaps she’d have a word with George Quayle; it seemed the sort of
project he’d get behind.
 

With a sigh, she turned and headed back towards Seaside
Terrace.
 
It was a beautiful summer
day and she didn’t want to dwell on the past too much.
 
At her age, it was only natural that
she’d experienced a great deal of sorrow, she supposed, but the time in Douglas
was meant to help her forget about recent events.
 
Thinking about a long ago catastrophe
wasn’t going to help her feel better.

When she got back to the apartment building, Nigel Green greeted
her with a huge, fake-looking smile.
 
“Ah, Ms.
Cubbon
, I was starting to get worried
about you,” he said brightly.
 
“Either that was some long walk or you stopped to enjoy the sunshine for
a while.”

“I walked down to Summerland,” Bessie replied.
 
“It was too nice a day to come back here
straight away.”

“It is a lovely day,” Nigel agreed.
 
“Anyway, I’ve checked and rechecked the
lift and it’s absolutely fine.
 
I’ve
no idea how the sign got on it, but there’s nothing wrong with the lift.”

“That’s good to know,” Bessie said.
 
“And the fire doors?”

“Ah, I’ve checked them as well and I’ve made sure they’re
unlocked.
 
I’m not sure how they
came to be locked, but I can assure you it’s been taken care of.”

“Good,” Bessie replied.
 
“Did you ever find out anything about the man who was found in flat
five?” she asked.

Nigel shook his head.
 
“I gather the police think he was just some vagrant.
 
He’s long gone now, and I’ve been
talking to Mr. Robertson about putting in some extra security.
 
We can’t have our residents being
bothered by such things, can we?”

“I should think Mr. Robertson, with all his money, could do a good
deal to help the island’s homeless population.
 
Then extra security here wouldn’t be
needed,” Bessie suggested.

“Oh, yes, rather, well, I’m sure he’s considering many things,”
Nigel replied.

“I’d better go and start getting things ready for this afternoon.
 
I’m so looking forward to meeting your
mother,” Bessie said.

Nigel’s smile faltered.
 
“Yes, well, I’m not sure she’ll be able to make it,” he said.
 
“She had a bad night.
 
She might need a nap this afternoon.”

“Well, I expect to be in all afternoon, so you’re both more than
welcome any time from two until six.
 
I’m sure she can’t nap for that many hours”

Nigel lips twitched into something like a smile.
 
“That’s kind of you,” he said.
 
“I hope we’ll make it.”

Bessie couldn’t push things any further, she decided.
 
Instead, she turned and headed towards
the post boxes.
 
She’d noticed the
postman coming out of the building as she’d gone in and she’d
realised
that she hadn’t actually checked her new postbox
since she’d moved in.
 
She carefully
put her key into the lock on her box and turned it slowly.
 
She pulled the door open and looked in
surprise at the large pile of post.

A quick flip through it all showed her that nearly everything in
the box was addressed to “Mrs. Hilary Montgomery.”
 
Bessie frowned.
 
She’d never heard of the woman.
 
She sorted out the two envelopes that
were actually addressed to her and then put the rest back in the postbox.
 
Perhaps the postman would take them back
and redirect them if she left them in there.

Nigel was on the telephone when Bessie walked back past him, so she
didn’t have to speak to him again.
 
The lift did seem to be in perfect working order when she took it to the
first floor.
 
Outside her flat, the
mirror was still in place and the welcome mat was exactly how she’d left it
before her walk.
 
She let herself
into her flat and immediately got to work.

By the time she was ready for lunch, Bessie had much of the food
prepared for the party.
 
She nibbled
on a few of the snacks, reasoning that she needed to make sure everything
tasted good and that there was no point in going to all the fuss of making
herself a proper lunch.
 
She made a
small sandwich from the rolls and sliced meats she’d purchased and ate that
while she arranged the “bar.”
 

She’d bought several bottles of wine to go with the bottle of gin
that Bertie had requested.
 
Her
refrigerator was fully stocked with a variety of cold drinks and mixers, as
well as a few bottles of beer in case anyone fancied it.
 

After she’d cleared away the crumbs from her slapdash lunch, Bessie
sat down with a book and tried to relax.
 
 
Only a few minutes later,
someone knocked on her door.

“Ah, Bessie, help,” Mary said as a greeting when Bessie opened the
door.

“What do you need?” Bessie asked.

“I need someone to eat and drink a whole lot,” Mary said with a
laugh.
 
“We’ve been left with ever
so much after last night.
 
I’ve
brought piles of food and drink with me for you to use for your party.
 
I hope you don’t mind.”

Bessie took a deep breath.
 
She did mind, actually.
 
She’d spent the entire morning and a great deal of money getting
everything just the way she wanted it.
 
The last thing she wanted or needed was a bunch of leftovers from the
grand barbeque the night before.

Mary must have caught the look on her face.
 
“Oh, goodness, I’m sorry,” she said now,
her face bright red.
 
“I didn’t
mean, that is, I’m sure you’ve put a lot of time and effort into getting things
ready for the party.
 
It’s just that
I don’t know what to do with all this food.”
 
She gestured to several large boxes that
were piled on the floor next to her.

“What have you brought?” Bessie asked, with a deep sigh.