Aunt Bessie's Holiday (11 page)

Bessie wasn’t sure if he was serious or
not.
 
“I’m sorry, are you ill?” she
asked after an awkward silence.

Andrew chuckled.
 
“I’m perfectly fine and in great shape,
but Helen has been predicting my imminent demise since her mother died in
nineteen-seventy-three.
 
One of
these days she’ll be right, I suppose.”

“But not for many years,” Bessie said.

“You never know,” Andrew said.
 
“Anyway, I love them all, especially the
little ones, but they wear me out quite a bit and I sometimes I need a
break.
 
We’ve all been together
since breakfast, so I thought I’d head back to my little oasis and have a quiet
lunch on my own.”

The man didn’t seem to be in any hurry now though,
as he stood and watched the stream.

“When did you last play Poohsticks?” he
asked Bessie after a moment.

“Oh, goodness, I never have,”
Bessie
replied.
 
“The stories weren’t a part of my childhood and I never had children of
my own.
 
I read the books, as an
adult, but I never tried playing the game.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything,”
the man said.
 
He turned from the
bridge railings and looked around.
 
“Sticks,” he said, pointing towards a small tree nearby.
 
A few small sticks were visible on the
ground around the trunk.

“There’s a skill to picking the best
sticks,” Andrew told her.
 
“I always
look for sticks that are quite streamlined, that will slide through the water
the fastest.”

Again, Bessie wasn’t sure if he was serious
or not.
 
She picked up the nearest
stick, a short one that still had a small leaf attached to it. “It might not be
streamlined, but at least I’ll be able to tell it’s mine,” she told the man.

Andrew picked up and then discarded several
sticks before selecting one.
 
“Now
we must find our spots on the bridge,” he told her.
 
As they walked back towards the bridge,
a large crowd of bicycles rode past.
 
Bessie stepped backwards quickly, nearly knocking Andrew over.

“Steady there,” he said, his hands settling
on her waist for a moment while he regained his balance.

Bessie caught her breath and flushed at the
unexpected contact.
 
She took a step
forward as soon as it was safe to do so.
 

“Right, I’m going to stand here,” he said,
moving back onto the bridge.
 
“I
think the current is fastest right about here.”

Bessie took a moment to study the
stream.
 
Andrew was probably
correct, she decided.
 
The stream
did look to be moving faster right under where he was standing than anywhere
else.

“Of course, as this is your first game, you
get first choice of bridge position,” he said, taking a step away from the
railing.
 

Bessie chuckled.
 
“I think I’ll have that space, then,”
she said.
 

Andrew nodded.
 
“You’d be foolish not to,” he said.
 

She took his place at the railing and he
moved a few steps to her left.
 
“I
shall count to three and then say ‘drop.’
 
At that point you may drop your stick.”

Bessie held her stick at arm’s length over
the water.
 
Andrew held his at the
same height.
 

“One, two, three, drop,” Andrew said.

They both let go of their sticks and then
walked quickly to the other side of the bridge.
 
For several seconds they both watched
anxiously for any sign of their sticks.
 
Bessie was starting to think the sticks had become stuck under the bridge
when she noticed something in the water.

“I think that’s my stick,” she said
excitedly.

“It may just be,” Andrew said.
 

A moment later Bessie was certain that it
was her stick that she could see.
 
“But where has yours gone?” she asked.

“It’s just there,” Andrew pointed.
 
“Coming out from under the bridge now.”

Bessie could just see it as it meandered
past them.
 

“My leaf made mine easier to see,” she said.

“They always seem to take longer than I
expect to come out,” Andrew told her.
 
“But you were the clear winner.
 
Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Bessie replied, feeling only a
little bit silly.

“But I’m sure you’re eager to get back to
your friend.
 
I mustn’t keep you,
especially after your rather eventful morning,” he said.

“I just hope Doona’s at the lodge,” Bessie
replied as they continued their walk.

“There are all sorts of rumours flying
around the park as to what happened this morning,” Andrew said in a
conversational tone.

“I’m sure there are,” Bessie said levelly.

Andrew chuckled.
 
“And you aren’t going to answer any
questions,” he said.

Bessie shrugged.
 
“I really can’t,” she told him.

They’d reached the entrance to Foxglove
Close.

Andrew slowed his pace.
 
“I won’t try to change your mind,” he
said.
 
“But I was a cop for a great
many years and I know a murder investigation when I see one unfolding.
 
I hope you and your friend aren’t caught
up in it.
 
If you ever need anyone
to talk to, I’m right next door.”

Bessie was so busy processing his words that
she barely remembered to mutter “good-bye” to him as he disappeared into number
seven.
 
She turned her key and
pushed open her door, hoping her friend would be there.

She found Doona on their patio, pretending
to read one of the book club books.
 
Bessie could tell that Doona had been crying and she quickly sat down in
the chair next to her.
 
After
putting an arm around her friend, Bessie waited for Doona to speak.

“It doesn’t feel real,” Doona said after a
moment.
 

“I can’t imagine how you must be feeling,”
Bessie replied.

Doona pulled back from Bessie and took a
deep breath.
 
“I really don’t want
to talk about it,” she said firmly.
 

Bessie opened her mouth to argue, but the
look on Doona’s face had her snapping it shut again.
 

“We’re meant to be on holiday and I don’t
intend to let Charles’s death spoil that,” Doona said tightly.
 
“I’ve already rung and rescheduled our
woodland walk for tomorrow morning at eight.
 
We didn’t have anything else scheduled
for today, so I thought maybe, after lunch, we could go to the pool.”

“I suppose we could,” Bessie said slowly,
her mind racing.
 
She couldn’t help
but feel as if they had a lot discuss, but she understood Doona wanting to put
the whole thing out of her mind as well.
 

“They took my fingerprints,” Doona said, her
eyes staring out towards the lake behind the building.
 
“I couldn’t really argue, as they’re
already on file somewhere from when I was hired by the constabulary back home.”

“They took mine as well,” Bessie told her.

“Why would they take yours?” Doona
demanded.
 
“You didn’t even go near
the door.”

“Inspector Hopkins said it was in case I’d
touched the door or the door frame at all,” Bessie replied.

“You never even got close,” Doona said.

“But she doesn’t know that for sure,” Bessie
replied.

“I think she’s going to compare our
fingerprints to any they can get off the murder weapon,” Doona said bleakly.

“Of course she is,” Bessie said.
 
“Did you see a weapon?”

“No, but it must have been a knife of some
sort, I think.”

“It doesn’t matter, really.
 
We were both fast asleep in our beds
when Charles was killed.
 
I’m sure
the good inspector will find the culprit very quickly.”

“I went out for a walk in the middle of the
night,” Doona said quietly.

“Oh, dear.
 
You should have woken me if you couldn’t
sleep.
 
I would have kept you company,”
Bessie said.

“I didn’t want to disturb you, and I needed
some fresh air and space to think,” Doona replied.
 
“I just wanted to be alone.”

“Where did you go?”

“That’s just it,” Doona said with a
sigh.
 
“I walked into the little village
and then beyond it.
 
It was so
peaceful and quiet that I just kept walking and walking for over an hour.”

“Did you see anyone?”

“Sure, there were a few people working at
places all over the site.
 
I even
saw Charles, at a distance, and then hid in the shadows until he went inside
the Squirrel’s Drey.”

“He didn’t see you?”

“No, he was on his mobile, shouting and
waving his arms around.
 
I don’t
think he’d have noticed me even if I hadn’t hidden.”

“Do you have any idea who he was talking
to?” Bessie asked.

Doona shook her head.
 
“I was too far away to hear him clearly,
even though he was yelling,” she replied.
 
“I was just thinking about trying to get closer when he disconnected and
went inside.”

“Was that on your way out or back to the
cabin?”

“It was on my way out.
 
But I walked around the perimeter of the
entire park after that, so I didn’t actually come back past the Squirrel’s Drey.”

“And you didn’t notice anyone skulking in
the shadows and then following Charles back inside?” Bessie asked.

“I wish I had, but no, as far as I could
tell, Charles was alone.
 
Everything
was all locked up everywhere, and I saw Charles lock the door behind
himself
when he went back inside as well.
 
Either the killer was already in the
building, or he or she had a key.”

“Or Charles let him or her in later,” Bessie
added.

“Or some other random person with a key
opened the door for the killer,” Doona sighed.
 
“I’m glad this is all Margaret’s problem
and not mine.”

“I’m just glad she’s the one who has to deal
with Lawrence Jenkins.
 
He seems thoroughly
unpleasant,” Bessie said.

“The inspector was quite surprised that I’d
never met him,” Doona told her.
 
“Apparently he and Charles were partners in a number of different
ventures over many years.”

“Do we know anything about the man?”

“Charles never mentioned him to me,” Doona replied.
 
“I didn’t know about Charles’s business
ventures, either.
 
And, I still
don’t have any idea what they might entail.”

“Maybe you were entitled to more in the
divorce,” Bessie suggested.
 
“You
should ring your advocate.”

Doona flushed.
 
“I’m not going to think about that right
now,” she said firmly.
 
“I’m more
worried about needing my advocate because I’ve been arrested for murder.”

Bessie laughed and then stopped abruptly
when she realised that Doona was serious.
 
“I know you didn’t kill Charles,” she said.
 
“I’m sure the inspector will work it out
quickly.”

“But I’m a suspect,” Doona said sadly.
 
“And I don’t have any alibi.”

“You’d need means and motive, even if you
had the opportunity,” Bessie replied, feeling as if she were quoting John
Rockwell.

“As I said, I think he was stabbed.
 
Knives aren’t hard to come by,
especially in a building with that many restaurants in it.”

Bessie nodded.
 
“I suppose that’s true,” she said
reluctantly.

“As for motive, I didn’t exactly keep quiet
about my dislike for the man.”

“Margaret Hopkins seemed to know what she
was doing,” Bessie said.
 
“I’ll bet
she’ll have the whole thing wrapped up by bedtime.”

“I wish I had your confidence,” Doona
replied gloomily.
 
“I just hope she
has it solved before it’s time to head home.
 
I have to be back at work a week from
today.”

“John won’t fire you if you get held up,”
Bessie said.
 
“But what does this do
to our holiday?
 
If Charles was
paying for it, are we going to have to pay now ourselves?”