Aunt Bessie's Holiday (24 page)

“Enjoy,” she said after she’d set them
down.
 

Bessie stared at the delicious looking cake
for a brief moment before diving it.
 
It was almost tastier than it looked, and even Doona seemed to have
found some enthusiasm for it as she ate.

“That was wonderful,” Bessie said as she
pushed her empty plate towards the centre of the table.

“It truly was,” Doona agreed.
 
“I wasn’t even hungry.”

Bessie glanced at her friend’s empty plate
and smiled.
 
“Good thing,” she
remarked.

“Would it be terrible to get small ice cream
cones for the walk home?” Bessie asked as they exited the restaurant.

“Yes,” Doona replied.
 
“But let’s do it anyway.”

There was, as always, a queue, but it was
moving fairly quickly and the pair didn’t mind.
 
This time they both ordered only a
single scoop of ice cream from the stand.

“Pardon me, Ms. Moore, isn’t it?” the deep
voice carried through the small crowd around the ice cream counter.

Bessie looked over at Herbert Howe and
frowned.
 
She felt as if Doona had
had quite enough chatting with suspects for one day.

“Mr. Howe, isn’t it?” Doona said politely.

“It is, yes,” he replied, bowing
slightly.
 
“I won’t keep you, but I
wanted to let you know that I’m very interested in purchasing any business
interests you might inherit from Charles Adams.
 
I didn’t realise he was married, or that
you were his wife, until yesterday.”

“If I inherit anything, and I consider it
highly unlikely that I will, you’ll have to deal with my advocate on the Isle
of Man,” Doona replied.

“Excellent, I’d rather deal with
professionals,” he told her.
 
“They
generally appreciate financial gains over sentimental value.”

“As your wife seems to have had some sort of
relationship with the man, perhaps Charles made her his heir,” Bessie suggested
,
feeling brave about confronting him with a small crowd
surrounded them.

Herbert just laughed.
 
“Jessica was nothing to Charles,” he
said firmly.
 
“She and I have a very
volatile relationship, but she’d never leave me, certainly not for a man like Charles.”

“Meaning what?” Bessie asked.

“Jessica likes money more than anything,” he
replied.
 
“Charles was a very
successful businessman and he was good at investing wisely, as well.
 
He’d managed to build up a decent-sized
share in the management company that owns this park and the chain of hotels he
worked for, but he wasn’t wealthy, at least not by Jessica’s standards.
 
She enjoyed his company, but he was
never more than a diversion.”

Bessie bit her tongue as a dozen different
replies sprang to her lips.
 

“I was all wrong for Charles, then,” Doona
said.
 
“I actually expected him to
be faithful.”

“Monogamy isn’t part of my marriage,” he
said with a shrug.
 
“On either
side.
 
I don’t expect you to
understand,” he added, presumably reading the look on Bessie’s face
correctly.
 
“And I’m not going to
try to explain, either.
 
All I
wanted to do was make sure you knew I was interested in buying up Charles’s
shares in the company.
 
No doubt
Harold and Lawrence have also made offers.
 
I’ll happily outbid them both, once we know exactly what’s at stake.”

He nodded at both of them and the walked
off, without waiting for a reply.

“Maybe, if Charles did leave me something, I
should just keep it and watch them all beg for a while,” Doona said with a
sigh.

“Eat your ice cream,” Bessie told her.
 
“It will make you feel better.”

The pair walked in silence back to their
cabin, enjoying their frozen treat.
 
Bessie was lost in thought, wondering if everyone’s eagerness to get
their hands on Charles’s shares in the company might give any of them a motive
for murder.

Just across the small bridge, Doona sank
down on a bench.
 
Bessie joined her
and they sat and watched the tiny waves rippling on the miniature lake for a
moment.

“I need to find out more about this
company,” Doona said eventually.
 
“It seems as if Charles owned a fairly large piece of it, from what
everyone is saying.”

“We know that Lawrence and Herbert were also
shareholders.
  
I wonder how
many others there are?”

“Maybe thousands,” Doona said.
 
“It could be a huge publicly traded
company for all I know.”

“But it doesn’t sound like it,” Bessie
replied.

“No, it doesn’t,”
Doona
agreed.

They sat for a few minutes longer before
Bessie spoke again.
 
“Am I the only
one who thinks it’s strange that Herbert didn’t mind his wife cheating on him?”
she asked.
 
“I know I’m
old-fashioned about such things, but he isn’t all that much younger than me.”

“But if you were jealous of the relationship
and then the man suddenly ended up murdered, wouldn’t you start going around
telling everyone how you didn’t mind at all?” Doona asked.

“Of course I would,” Bessie agreed.
 
“I didn’t think of that.”

“You know, I’m afraid Margaret Hopkins is
waiting back at Foxglove Close to arrest me,” Doona said.

“If she does, John will be on the next
flight across,” Bessie told her.

“While that makes me feel a bit better, I’d
still rather not be arrested,” Doona replied.

Bessie shook her head.
 
“Inspector Hopkins is probably at home
tucked up in bed, watching something inane on the telly.”

“Maybe,” Doona said doubtfully.

“Pardon me?” a voice whispered.
 
“May I join you?”

Bessie recognised the soft French accent
before she spotted Monique in the fading light.

“Of course,” she said, sliding over to make
more space for the girl.

“The police, they are waiting at your lodge
for you,” Monique said intently to Doona.
 
“But I had to talk to you.
 
I
have to know if it’s true that you’re Charles’s wife.”

Chapter Twelve

Doona glanced at Bessie and then looked at
Monique.
 
“Charles and I were
married,” she said slowly.
 
“But
we’d been separated for two years when he died, and I’d applied for a divorce.”

“You aren’t what I expected,” Monique said
sadly.
 
“He told me about you.”

“Really?” Doona asked.

“Yes, he was sorry for how he treated you,”
she said.
 
“He still cared about
you.”

“At least that’s what he told you,” Doona
said sourly.

“He didn’t lie to me,” Monique replied.

“I thought that once,” Doona told her.
 
“But I was wrong.”

Monique brushed away tears.
 
“I don’t blame you for not believing
me,” she said after a moment.
 
“I
know he hurt you very badly.”

“It was a long time ago,” Doona said
dismissively.
 
“I’ve moved on.”

“He hadn’t,” Monique said.
 

They all stared at the lake for a moment
before Bessie broke the silence.

“I hope you’re feeling better,” she told the
girl.

“I’m okay,” she said with a shrug.
 
“Sometimes it’s easier to be alone.
 
Taking care of guests takes so much
effort.
 
Being polite and rushing
about with heavy trays isn’t fun.”

“Perhaps you should look for a different
job,” Bessie suggested coolly.

“I have thought about it,” Monique
said.
 
“But Nathan needs me.
 
He counts on me to help with
everything.
 
We’re a team, even when
we don’t get along.”

Bessie opened her mouth to ask another
question, but Monique rose to her feet.
 

“I must go,” she said, her gaze darting back
and forth.
 
“Someone will miss me.”

She slipped away into the darkness before
Bessie or Doona could reply.

“We should go and see what the inspector
wants,” Doona said, clearly reluctant to do so.

“Or we could go for a walk,” Bessie
suggested.
 
“Maybe get some more ice
cream and then find a quiet spot to sit and watch the world go by.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Doona told her.
 
“But I won’t be forced into hiding.
 
I didn’t do anything wrong and if the
inspector has more questions for me, I need to answer them.”

The pair got to their feet and walked slowly
towards Foxglove Close.
 
When they
turned the corner into the cul-de-sac Bessie spotted the inspector standing in
front of their cabin.
 
She crossed
to them, a tight smile on her face.

“Mrs. Moore, I’m afraid I have more
questions for you,” she said as a greeting.

“Shall we talk out here so that Bessie can
get some sleep?” Doona proposed.

“I think I’d rather talk to you in my
office,” Margaret replied.
 
“If you
don’t mind.”

“You’re arresting me,” Doona said flatly.

“Not at all,” the inspector countered.
 
“I’m asking you for your cooperation.”

“It’s quite late,”
Bessie
said.
 
“Maybe she could come to your
office in the morning.”

“I’d rather not wait,” Margaret said
smoothly.
 
“This is a murder
investigation, after all.”

Bessie opened her mouth to object, but Doona
held up a hand.
 
“It’s fine,” she
said tiredly.
 
“You go and get some
sleep and I’ll try to be extra quiet when I get back.
 
We can catch up in the morning.”

“Are you sure?” Bessie asked, taking Doona’s
hands in hers and staring into her eyes.

“I’m sure,” she said, her eyes meeting
Bessie’s without blinking.
 
Bessie
could see many emotions in her friend’s eyes.
 
She gave Doona a tight hug and then,
reluctantly, stepped back and watched silently as the inspector and Doona
walked away.
 
As soon as they were
out of sight, Bessie headed for the cabin.

“The inspector had just taken Doona to her
office for questioning,” she told John Rockwell as soon as he answered his
phone.

“I’ll ring her and see what I can find out,”
he replied.
 
“Don’t worry.”

Bessie laughed at his words, but John had
already disconnected.
 
With nothing
to do but worry, Bessie paced around the small building, walking from room to
room, staring at her mobile and willing it to ring.
 
It felt like hours, but was really only
about ten minutes later when John rang her back.

“Margaret is under a lot of pressure to
solve this thing,” he told Bessie.
 
“Doona had a very strong motive, the murder weapon came from her accommodation,
it has fingerprints on it that are a partial match for hers, and she’s already
admitted to seeing Charles the night of the killing.
 
The only surprising thing in all this is
that Margaret hasn’t actually arrested her.
 
She’s only taken her in for additional
questioning.”

“But Doona didn’t do it,” Bessie said
angrily.

“Margaret doesn’t know Doona at all,” John
said calmly.
 
“And even if she knew
her well, she has to work from the evidence she’s collecting.
 
If I were in her place, I’d probably
arrest Doona myself.”

“You aren’t making me feel any better,”
Bessie said grumpily.

“I talked to one of Margaret’s assistants,
and they may well keep Doona overnight,” he told her.

“Poor Doona,” Bessie exclaimed.

“She’ll be well looked after,” John told
her.
 
“They have a couple of rooms
for overnight guests that are secure but not cells.
 
She’ll be able to sleep there and
Margaret will make sure she gets fed as well.”

“So what happens tomorrow?” Bessie asked.

“Tomorrow we hope they find evidence that
someone else did it,” John replied.
 
“I’m going to fly across if I can get a flight.
 
I’ll let you know when I’m going to
arrive and we can go from there.”

“I’ll feel better with you here,” Bessie
said.

“I’ll feel better being there,” John
replied.

Bessie told John about the various
conversations she’d heard or overheard during the day.
 
“It seems like there are a lot of
motives out there,” she concluded.

“And it sounds as if there’s quite a bit of
money at stake,” John added.
 
“Which
is worrying, as it’s just another thing that strengthens Doona’s motive, if she
really is Charles’s heir.”

“I wish I knew what Monique wanted tonight,”
Bessie said.
 
“It was a strange
conversation that went nowhere.”

“It sounds like she was quite close to Charles,”
John remarked.
 
“I wonder how
close.”

“What are you suggesting?” Bessie asked.

“Nothing and everything,” John replied.
 
“Until I get there and actually meet the
concerned parties, I’m just thrashing around in the dark.”

“Let me know when you’ll be arriving,”
Bessie told him.
 
“We’ll have to sort
out a place to meet.”

“You’ll be the first to know,” John assured
her.

After they disconnected, Bessie continued to
pace around the cabin.
 
Eventually
she decided that she needed to get some sleep, but as she got ready for bed, all
she could think about was Doona.
 
Bessie knew she was overtired and her imagination was overactive, but in
her imagination poor Doona was sitting in a hard wooden chair with a bright
light shining in her eyes while the inspector shouted question after question
at her.

Bessie grabbed her stack of book club books
and curled up in bed.
 
She read a
chapter in each book, finding nothing that could hold her interest.
  
Finally she gave up and turned out
the light.
 
After an hour of tossing
and turning, she got back up and went out on the patio.
 
She curled up in one of the comfortable
lounge chairs and stared up at the sky.
 
When she woke up hours later, she was stiff and cold and the sun was
starting to come up.

With nothing productive to do, Bessie
decided to have an early morning walk around the lake.
 
She took a quick shower and then got
dressed and headed out.
 
She locked
the door behind her and turned towards the road.
  
Andrew was just emerging from number
seven.

“Good morning,” he said cheerfully.

“Good morning,” Bessie replied with as much
enthusiasm as she could muster.

“What’s wrong?” he asked immediately.

Bessie stifled a sigh.
 
“Inspector Hopkins arrested Doona last
night,” she said.
 
She took a deep
breath and then tried again, aware of how angry she’d sounded.
 
“The inspector took Doona to her office
for additional questioning,” she corrected herself.

“I presume there’s quite a bit of evidence
against your friend,” Andrew said.
 
“I don’t think she did it, myself, but Margaret has to investigate every
possibility.”

“Doona would never kill anyone, not even her
ex-husband,” Bessie said confidently.

“Except they weren’t divorced, were they?”
Andrew asked.

“Well, no, technically not,” Bessie said
slowly.

“Let’s go for a walk,” Andrew suggested as someone
emerged from a lodge a few doors away.
 
He offered his arm, and after a moment’s hesitation, Bessie took
it.
 
They made their way down the
path around the lake.
 
Eventually,
Andrew broke the silence.

“I’ve been calling in a few favours to find
out what’s going on with the investigation,” he told Bessie.
 
“Let’s talk about what I know and see if
we can work anything out.”

“We can try,” Bessie said doubtfully.

“Allegedly, Charles dumped Jessica Howe
recently.
 
She seems to have quite a
volatile temper,” Andrew said.

“Are you suggesting she killed him?” Bessie
asked.

Andrew shrugged.
 
“I can believe it of her more readily
than of Doona,” he replied.
 
“Her
husband had his own reasons for hating Charles.
 
From what I’ve heard, they were both
personal and professional.”

“I can’t imagine why he was willing to work
with Charles even though he knew Charles was having an affair with Jessica,”
Bessie said, shaking her head.

“People do odd things for money,” Andrew
said.
 
“And apparently Charles was
very good at making money for the company.”

“So we know they both had motives.
 
Did they have means and opportunity?”
Bessie asked.

“As far as getting to Charles, just about
anyone could have done that.
 
The
Squirrel’s Drey
was meant to be closed
, but Charles
could have let someone in, the killer could have had a key, or a door somewhere
in the building could have been left open.
 
Security wasn’t as much of a priority as it should have been.”

“Did they alibi each other?” Bessie asked.

“Actually, just the opposite,” Andrew told
her, shaking his head.
 
“They both
claimed to have been alone in their lodge the entire night.”

“Well, clearly one of them is lying, then,”
Bessie
exclaimed.

“Probably both of them,” Andrew said dryly.

“So why isn’t the inspector dragging them in
for questioning?” Bessie asked.

“Because there’s no evidence that they knew
who Doona was until after the murder,” Andrew replied.

“What does that have to do with anything?”
Bessie demanded.
 

“If Doona didn’t kill Charles, someone took a
risk climbing onto your patio to take that knife to try to frame her.
 
Whoever that was must have known that she
had a motive for killing Charles.”

Bessie stopped suddenly, her mind
racing.
 
“I never really thought
about that,” she admitted.
 
“I should
have realised.”

“Of course, the murderer wouldn’t
necessarily admit to knowing about Doona, even if he or she did,” Andrew added.

“Someone sent Doona an envelope full of
evidence that Charles was cheating on her two years ago,” Bessie said.
 
“That person certainly knew about Doona
and about Charles’s affair with Jessica.”