Aunt Bessie Finds (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 6) (32 page)

Bessie nodded.
 
“I still
want to know who he is and what he was doing here,” she said, thoughtfully.

“I do as well, but Nigel says he doesn’t know, and Mr. Robertson
and Mr. Quayle are already on record denying any knowledge of him.”

“So they’re going to have to find someone new to manage the
building, aren’t they?” Bessie asked.

“You’d have to talk to them about that,” Corkill replied.
 
“That isn’t a police matter.”

The pair talked through a few other aspects of the case before the inspector
left to get back to work.
 
After the
inspector departed, Bessie made herself some lunch, then waited patiently until
two o’clock.
 
Once she was sure the
news conference had started, she went and found Bahey.
 

“That horrible man,” Bahey said once she’d heard the whole
story.
 
“Thank goodness I never
succumbed to his questionable charms.”

“You weren’t his type,” Bessie told her.
 
“From what the inspector told me, he
mostly went after women who were alone in the world.
 
You have a sister right here on the island.”

“So I guess that explains all of the weird things that were
happening,” Bahey said.
 

“It explains a lot of them,” Bessie replied.
 
“It seems Mr. Green wanted to keep my
flat empty, either because of the fraudulent post he was getting to that
address or so he could use it for something else.
 
He was the one starting a fire in the
lift every time there was a showing.”

“And the moving mirror, the welcome mats, and the missing notes?”
Bahey asked.

Bessie shrugged.
 
“I
think maybe there’s a different explanation for those things, but I’m not sure
yet.”

Bahey and Howard headed off to his daughter’s the next morning,
leaving Bessie feeling somewhat alone in her tiny flat.
 
She pottered around after seeing them
off, reading and eating a light lunch.
 
She was just thinking about an afternoon walk, when Mary Quayle knocked
on her door.

“Do come in,” she invited Mary.

“I do want to visit with you,” Mary answered.
 
“But first I’m going to have a chat with
Margaret.
 
I was wondering if you’d
like to come along.”

“Margaret Green?
 
Is she
back in her flat?” Bessie asked.

“She is, and I feel it’s my duty to check in on her.”

Bessie followed Mary down to the ground floor.
 
Outside flat four Mary knocked and they
waited for a reply.

“She’s in a wheelchair,” Bessie commented.
 
“How will she even open the door?”

A moment later the door swung open and Bessie felt her jaw
drop.
 
The woman standing there was
only barely
recognisable
as Margaret Green.
 
Her hair had been washed and cut into a
short bob.
 
Her eyes were sharp and
she looked at them suspiciously.

“What can I do for you ladies?” she asked.

“I’m Mary Quayle.
 
My
husband is part-owner of the building, and I wanted to check in on you and make
sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine, although I’m not sure what’s happening now,” the woman
replied, her hostile look fading slightly.
 
“I guess I need to find a new place to live.
 
I suppose you’ll be looking for a new
building manager.
 
No one is telling
me anything, you see.”

Mary nodded and then patted the woman’s arm.
 
“There’s no rush for you to move,” she
assured her.
 
“We’ll work it all out
in time.
 
You must be very upset
about your son’s arrest and I’m sure that’s causing you enough stress.”

“Upset?
 
More like
delighted,” the woman said with a derisive snort.
 
“He kept me drugged up to my eyeballs,
did my baby boy, and he spent every penny I had while I couldn’t complain.
 
Now he’s gone to prison and I’m left
with nothing.”

“I’m sorry,” Bessie interjected, “but I have to ask.
 
Did you sometimes sneak around the building
at night, moving things around and taking notes off doors?”

Margaret flushed.
 
“When
the drugs he gave me would start to wear off, I’d get restless,” she said defensively.
 
“Sometimes he’d be out, so I’d take a
walk around the building, sure, why not?
 
And if I stumbled over something on the ground, like a note, and I
wasn’t sure where it went, I might tuck it in my pocket, that’s all.”

“And the mirror and the welcome mats?” Bessie asked.

“Yeah, maybe,” Margaret shrugged.
 
“I didn’t mean any harm, like.
 
It was really the drugs doing the bad
things.”

Bessie wasn’t going to force the issue.
 
Clearly the woman wasn’t going to accept
responsibility for her actions, but at least she’d admitted to doing them.
 
And finding out who was behind the
pranks was what Bahey had wanted Bessie to move to Douglas to do.
 
Now she could go home.

Mary assured Margaret that she wasn’t going to have to leave the
building any time soon and that someone would be checking in on her
regularly.
 
Margaret looked
exhausted by the time the conversation finished.

“I think I’ll just grab a nap,” she muttered as she pushed the door
to the flat shut.

“She’s going to need a lot of looking after,” Bessie remarked as
she and Mary walked out of the building.

“I’ll have someone assigned to check on her at least twice a day,”
Mary said with a shrug.
 
“George and
Grant can argue between themselves about who’s going to pay for it.
 
Grant is already paying for Nigel’s
expensive lawyer.”

“Why?” Bessie asked.

Mary shrugged.
 
“I have
no idea.
 
He said something about it
being the least he could do, but I can’t imagine why.”

Bessie shook her head.
 
“At least with Nigel behind bars, Margaret won’t be overmedicated
anymore,” Bessie said.
 
“Imagine
having your own son treat you like that.”

“I’d rather not,” Mary said with a
humourless
chuckle.
 
“I don’t think my children
would ever do such a thing, but I doubt Margaret was expecting it.
 
I suppose you’ll be moving back to
Laxey
now?”

Bessie hesitated and then nodded.
 
“Bahey was worried about the strange
things that were happening here,” she explained.
 
“I thought she was worried about
nothing, so I agreed to poke around a little bit.
 
I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it
from the beginning.”

“But with George being one of the owners, you had to be careful
what you said,” Mary suggested.

“Maybe that was part of it, but mostly I thought she was fussing
over nothing,” Bessie said.
 
“But
the thought of a month in Douglas really appealed.
 
After the events after
Tynwald
Day, I really needed a change of scenery.”

“I can understand that,” Mary told her, giving her a hug.

“I am sorry about all your furniture, though.
 
I suppose you’ll have to have it all
shipped back up to
Jurby
and I never even paid you
for having it brought down here in the first place.”

“Actually, I might not have it taken back right away,” Mary replied
thoughtfully.
 
“I’ve been thinking
that I need a little space to get away from things.
 
Your little flat might be just what I
need.
 
Perhaps I’ll buy it and use
it as my own little hideaway.”

Bessie bit her tongue before the hundreds of questions she wanted
to ask could pour out.
 
“Let me know
if you need to talk,” she said instead.
 

“Thanks,” Mary said, hugging her again.
 
“I’ll take you up on that soon.”

Bessie watched as Mary climbed into her expensive car and drove
away.
 
The walk on the beach
suddenly didn’t appeal.
 
She turned
back around and headed into the building.
 
Packing wouldn’t take long and she could ring for a taxi if Doona was
too busy to come and get her.
 
Suddenly, she didn’t want to waste another minute.
 
Bessie was going home.
 

Glossary of Terms

Manx Language to English

House Names – Manx to English

English/Manx to American Terms

Other notes:

CID is the Criminal Investigation Department of
the Isle of Man Constabulary (Police Force).

“Noble’s” is Noble’s Hospital, the main
hospital on the Isle of Man.
 
It is
located in Douglas, the island’s capital city.

When talking about time, the English say, for
example, “half seven” to mean “seven-thirty.”

In the UK, the ground level floor of a building
is the “ground floor.”
 
The floor
above that is the “first floor.”
 
In
the US, we would call the ground floor the “first floor” and count up from
there.

A charity shop is a store run by a charitable
(non-profit)
organisation
that sells donated
second-hand merchandise in order to raise funds for their particular
cause.
 
They are great places to
find books, games and puzzles, as well as clothing, knick-knacks and furniture.

When island residents talk
about someone being from “across,” or moving “across,” they mean somewhere in
the United Kingdom (across the water).

The emergency number in the
UK is 999, rather than 911, as used in the US.

If someone is trying to
“chat someone up,” they are flirting with
them
.

When someone is asked to “be
mother,” they are being asked to pour the tea (or serve the food).

Flapjack is a baked bar of
rolled oats, butter, sugar and golden syrup, sometimes with raisins added in.

A Christmas cake is a cake
made with dried fruits and nuts with alcohol that is often iced with
marzipan.
 
They are much nicer than
what you might find in the US labeled “fruitcake.”
 

Mince Pies are small
pastries filled with “mincemeat,” which is a mixture of dried fruits, suet and
spices steeped in brandy or rum.
 
Although they originally contained meat, they no longer do.

Someone who is “made redundant”
is let go from his or her job.
 
(Roughly equivalent to being “laid-off” in the US.)

As the Isle of Man is a
country in its own right, it has its own laws related to employment.
 
Anyone seeking work on the island
(unless they are classed as an “Isle of Man Worker”) is required to secure a
work permit before taking up employment.
 
The employer must apply for the permit and prove that there aren’t any
Isle of Man Workers available to fill the position.

Refrigerators on the island (and
in the UK) tend to be small (what Americans would consider “dorm-sized,” or
slightly larger).
 
Anything larger
is considered “American-style” and, if you choose to purchase such an
appliance, you shouldn’t be surprised to find that it won’t fit in your
kitchen.
 
(Ours lived in our utility
room next to the washing machine.)

A “three-piece suite”
consists of a sofa (couch) and two matching chairs.

The drinking age in the UK
(and the island) is 18, but children from 16 can drink beer or wine with meals
in public.
 
When Hugh talks about
Grace’s younger brother not being into drinking yet, the young man is probably
unusual in that.
 
(My son is 16 and
has stayed in touch with many of his friends on the island.
 
Many of them seem to be drinking a great
deal on a regular basis!)

In the UK they measure
weight in pounds and stone, where one stone is equal to fourteen pounds.
 

Digestive
biscuits (usually just called digestives) are round, hard, slightly sweet and
probably the most common biscuit in the UK.
 
The closest US equivalent that I can
come up with is a graham cracker, but digestives are less sweet and have a
harder texture.
 
You can find them
covered with a layer of chocolate or even caramel and chocolate.