1 Aunt Bessie Assumes (9 page)

“I suppose I should be going,
then,” she said generally.

“Oh, thank you for coming,”
Mrs. Pierce answered vaguely.
 

Vikky glanced up and waved
before turning back to her conversation with Donny, who simply ignored Bessie.

“I’ll walk you out,” Samantha
offered.
 
“I would hate for you to
get lost in this monstrosity.”

Bessie grinned at the younger
woman.
 
“I’d appreciate that,” she
told her.

“Mr. Pierce seems pretty
certain that the murder was random,” Bessie remarked as the pair made their way
through the house.  

Samantha laughed.  “And
yet he can't explain how the weapon came from this very house.”

“The knife came from Thie yn
Traie?” Bessie asked in surprise.

“Yep,” Samantha grinned.
 “Not only that, but it was part of a set that Mr. and Mrs. Pierce just gave
the happy couple as a wedding present on Saturday night.”

“My goodness,” Bessie
exclaimed.
 
“How on earth can Mr. Pierce
explain that?”

“Oh, he has some theory about
Danny taking the knife on the walk with him, you know, for protection.”
 Samantha waved a hand. “It's all nonsense, of course, but it's what he
wants to believe.”

“How on earth did you find
out about the knife, anyway?” Bessie asked curiously.

“When you’re as important as
Mr. Pierce, the police share information with you,” Samantha said with a
shrug.
 
“I think the Chief Constable
himself called and talked to him.”

Bessie frowned.
 
Doona was worried about saying anything
she shouldn’t, and yet the Chief Constable was having cosy chats with the
victim’s father.
 

They had nearly reached the
front door now, and Bessie deliberately slowed her pace.  “So do you have
your own theory about what happened?” she asked the young blonde.

“Sure,” Samantha
shrugged.
 
“But no one wants to hear
it.”

“I'd love to hear it,” Bessie
told her eagerly.

A wary look came over
Samantha's face.  “Yes, well….” she prevaricated.

“Sam, where are you?”  

Samantha jumped as Donny's
voice echoed down the corridor. 

“I'm just showing our guest
out,” she called back down the hall.

“Well, hurry up, will you?
 Vikky wants to go for a walk and I need you to sit with my parents.”

“And it's all about what
Vikky wants,” Samantha said grimly, turning back towards Bessie.

“You were going to tell me
your theory on the murder,” Bessie reminded her.

Samantha sighed.  “But
now I have to go baby-sit the grieving parents while Vikky takes my boyfriend
for a ride.”

“I thought Donny said she
wanted to go for a walk,” Bessie said sweetly.

Samantha laughed.  “For
an old lady, you're kind of cool,” she told Bessie.  “Meet me tomorrow
around one at the Laxey Wheel and we can chat about my theory.”

“Oh, but....
”  
Bessie didn't get to finish.  Instead Donny
suddenly came storming down the hall towards them.

“Come on, Samantha, I need
you,” he demanded.

The beautiful blonde rolled
her eyes at Bessie and then said a quick goodbye.  

“Don’t forget, the Laxey Wheel
at one,” Samantha whispered in Bessie's ear just before she followed Donny back
towards the great room.

Bessie frowned as the pair
disappeared from view.  She wanted to hear Samantha's theory and she
didn't want to wait until tomorrow.  After a moment, she sighed and then
turned to the door.  She pulled on the coat and boots she had left at the
door and grabbed her umbrella, then she pulled the door open and looked out at
the cluster of reporters who were still hanging around at the top of the drive.
 Sighing even more deeply, she stepped outside.

“Aunt Bessie?”  The
voice came from her left.  She turned to see one of the security guards
from earlier standing there. 

“You probably don't remember
me,” the man said, looking at her shyly.  He grinned and Bessie suddenly
placed him.

“Robert, Robert Clague,” she
smiled.  “Your parents ran the Laxey post office for a few years in the
eighties.  Of course I remember you.  You still have the same shy
smile that you had when you were seven.
 
You tried to eat your own body weight in shortbread every time you
stopped to visit me.”
 

The man laughed.  “That's
about right,” he told Bessie.  “I still remember your shortbread biscuits.
They were something special.”

“I didn't realise you were
working for the Pierce family now,” Bessie said.

“Oh, I'm not,”
Robert
corrected her.  “I work for Manxman Security
Services.  The family has hired us to help out because of what happened
yesterday.”

Bessie nodded.  “That
makes sense.”  

“Anyway,” Robert continued, “I'm
done for the day; how about I give you a ride home?”

“That would be wonderful,”
Bessie couldn't help but gush a bit.  She had found the visit emotionally
draining and the thought of fighting her way through the reporters and then
walking home the long way around seemed almost too much.  

“I haven't made shortbread
lately,” she said in an apologetic tone.
 
“But I'm sure I can find you something to go with a nice cup if tea when
we get there.” 

“That sounds great,” the man
grinned.  He escorted Bessie to a newer model car with the security
company's name painted on the side.  They climbed in and Bessie was
surprised when Robert drove off in the opposite direction from the gates.
 

“There's a service entrance
around the back,” Robert told her as the house disappeared from view.  “There
may be a few reporters out there as well, but most of them are at the main
gate.  There's more to see there.” 

As it happened, only a single
reporter was sitting inside a stationary car just outside the service entrance
gate as they approached.  Robert tapped a code into a panel near the gate
and it slid open soundlessly.  The reporter barely looked up.

“I guess we aren't
interesting in this car,” Robert shrugged.

On the drive he brought
Bessie up-to-date on his parents, who were now retired and living in Blackpool.
 Over tea and biscuits he politely, but consistently, refused to answer
any questions about the Pierce family.
 
Bessie couldn’t even get him to admit to having formed any impressions
of any of the family members in the limited time he had spent in their company.

After a short time, he was on
his way.  As soon as he was gone, Bessie listened to her answering machine
messages and called back the few people who had called whom she was actually
interested in speaking with, ignoring the rest.

Chapter
Five

“I'm coming over after work,” Doona told her
when Bessie called her back at the police station.  “And I'm bringing
Chinese, so you don't have to cook.”

Bessie didn't argue.
 
She loved Chinese food and she was
always happy to have a night off cooking.
 
“You’d better bring extra,” she told Doona.  “Hugh might be here.”

“Why would Hugh be there?” Doona wondered.

“He's sleeping on my couch at the moment.
 He has some crazy idea that I need protecting.”

“Good for him,” Doona cheered.  “I told you
he's really a good guy.” 

“I'm reserving judgment for now,” Bessie told
her friend.  

Doona just laughed and then said her goodbyes.

Bessie spent what was left of the afternoon
cleaning the bathrooms, her least favourite job, and then working on her
research.  She was due to give the paper in early May, and at the moment
she had little more than a vague notion of what she was going to say.

Two solid hours of hard work left her feeling far
more confident about the conference.  She pushed back from her desk and
checked the clock.  Doona would be arriving in around an hour.
 Bessie grinned to herself.  She'd worked hard all afternoon and she
didn't need to worry about cooking anything.
 
It was definitely time to curl up with a
good book. 

She had an agreement with the bookstore in
Ramsey; they sent her the newest releases in a number of different series that
she enjoyed and billed her monthly.  She'd received a package from them
yesterday afternoon, but with all the excitement, she hadn't even opened it
yet.  

Now she carefully cut through the tape and
pulled open the box, inhaling the wonderful papery aroma of new books.
 She smiled at her new acquisitions, excited to find four new titles from some
of her absolute favourite authors.  After a moment's indecision, she
grabbed the latest in an American private detective series and, cup of tea to
hand, settled in to read.

Loud and persistent banging dragged her back
home from the California seaside.  Bessie looked around, slightly
disoriented at the sudden return to reality.

The banging didn't let up, so Bessie closed a
bookmark into the book and headed towards the door.

“I was starting to worry about you,” Doona told
her when Bessie let her in.

“I was lost in the latest Sue Grafton,” Bessie
explained.

“Ooo, I just got that one myself,” Doona
answered.  “I'm saving it for the weekend so I can read it straight
through.”

While they talked, Doona was busy unpacking
several large bags of food.  The kitchen filled with sweet and spicy
smells that made Bessie's mouth water.

She'd only just pulled plates from the cupboard
when there was another knock on the door.

“I thought I smelled Chinese food,” Hugh grinned
as Doona let him in.

“You have perfect timing,” Doona grinned back at
him.  “You’re just in time for dinner.”

The threesome filled plates
and then settled in comfortably around Bessie's table.  

“So, how was your visit to Thie yn Traie?” Doona
asked, after most of the food was gone.

“Interesting,” Bessie answered.  “They're a
strange lot.”

“How so?” Hugh asked.

“Well, the dead man's father thinks the killing
was random, for a start.”  

“Anything is possible,” Hugh said.

“I heard a rumour that the knife came from the
house,” Bessie replied.

“I couldn't possibly confirm or deny any
rumours,” Hugh said stiffly.  He then caught Bessie's eye and winked at
her.

“Right,” Bessie said.  “So Daniel Pierce, Sr.,
is convinced that there are deadly homeless men wandering around Laxey Beach,
either that or murderous drug dealers.  Meanwhile, his wife, I'm afraid I
didn't catch her first name, has been medicated by some well-meaning doctor who
probably doesn't realise how much the woman drinks.”

“Her name is Margaret,” Doona told Bessie.
 “I saw it on her statement.”

Hugh shot Doona a look.  

“What?” Doona demanded.  “I'm not telling
her anything that isn't public knowledge.”

“Just be careful,” Hugh said quietly.  “We
both have to be careful talking to civilians.  Inspector Rockwell doesn't
like gossip and rumours.”

“I'd suggest he's moved to the wrong little
island, then,” Bessie laughed. “Gossip is what keeps this island running.”

“So the victim's parents were odd,” Hugh said.
 “Did you meet anyone else?”

“Apparently Danny had a brother,” Bessie said.
 The other two nodded.  

“He seemed odd as well.  Not exactly sad at
the loss of his brother, and it seemed to me that he's getting awfully cosy
with the widow as well.”

Hugh shook his head.  “I bet Samantha isn't
too happy about that,” he commented.

“Samantha didn't seem happy about much of
anything,” Bessie said.

“Samantha is the goregous blonde, right?”
 Doona checked.  “She came in to the station with the family, but no
one was talking to her while they waited.”

“She's supposed to be Donny's
girlfriend, but they didn't seem to be getting along very well this afternoon,”
Bessie told the others.
 
“I’m going
to meet her tomorrow afternoon at the Laxey Wheel so we can talk properly.”

Hugh shook his head.
 
“I don’t think you should be getting so
involved in this,” he told Bessie.
 
“Paying your respects is one thing, but arranging to meet up with one of
the suspects is another.
 
Amateurs
have no part to play in a police investigation.”

“Nonsense,” Bessie told
him.
 
“I’m not getting involved in
anything.
 
The poor girl needs
someone to talk to, that’s all.
 
Things are very tense at Thie yn Traie at the moment and she needs a
break and a sympathetic ear.
 
We
probably won’t talk about Danny at all, just Donny and the wicked widow woman.”

Doona laughed.
 
“That’s a good way to describe her,” she
told Bessie.
 
“I don’t know why I
don’t like her.
 
I only spent two
minutes with her.
 
But there is
definitely something unpleasant about her.”

“She just lost her husband.
 
I don’t think she was too worried about
being pleasant,” Hugh suggested.

“She isn’t just unpleasant,”
Bessie said.
 
“She’s impolite.”

Hugh shook his head.
 
“I didn’t get that at all.
 
She seemed liked a lovely young woman
dealing with an unexpected tragedy in the best way she could.”

Bessie shrugged.
 
“I don’t think Samantha is very fond of
her.
 
I expect I’ll get an earful
about her tomorrow.”

Hugh frowned.
 
“If Inspector Rockwell finds out that
you’re running around meeting up with suspects, he isn’t going to be happy.”

“I can’t see that what I do
is any of his business,” Bessie replied stoutly.
 
“He has a murderer to find.
 
He doesn’t need to worry about me having
a friendly chat with someone.
 
Why
would Samantha be a suspect anyway?
 
What possible motive could she have for killing Danny?”

Hugh shrugged.
  
“I have no idea what her motive
might have been,” he told the others.
 
“But she knew the dead man, which isn’t the case for most of the
population of the island.
 
And she
had access to the knife, again unlike most of the island’s residents.
 
Unless Danny took the knife out with him
on his walk, the murderer has to be someone in that house.”

“I can’t believe his own
parents would kill him,” Doona said.

“It has been known to
happen,” Hugh replied.
 
“Although in
this case, I’m inclined to agree with you, barring any evidence to the
contrary.
 
Mrs. Pierce seems
especially devastated by the loss. I didn’t get much chance to form an
impression of Mr. Pierce.
 
He wasn’t
so much questioned as tiptoed around.
 
He’s a very important man across and that means we have to tread
carefully around him.”

“So if the parents are out of
it, that leaves the widow, the brother and his girlfriend as your only
suspects?” Bessie asked.

“There’s some household staff
as well,” Hugh told her.
 
“A driver,
a housekeeper and a few young girls who worked as maids and whatever.
 
We can’t rule anyone out at this point,
and I shouldn’t be talking about it.”

Of course the widow had the
best motive, didn’t she?” Doona asked.
 
“All that lovely money.
 
What
sort of motive might Donny
have
had?”

“Has to be money, doesn’t
it?” Hugh answered.
 
“Although
apparently he isn’t in line to inherit anything from his brother anyway.
 
Mr. Pierce told the inspectors all about
the complicated trust arrangements they have in place.
 
He said that his own father and his
father’s brother had a huge falling out over the business when they were running
it and they nearly bankrupted the company before they finally came to an
agreement.
 
After that, they set up
all sorts of complicated legal bits and bobs to prevent it from happening again
with the next generation.”

“Legal bits and bobs?” Bessie
grinned.
 
“I should ask Doncan about
that.”

Hugh grinned back at
her.
 
“That might not be the technical
term, but whatever he said, the gist of it was that that Donny won’t gain
anything, at least financially, from his brother’s death.”

“I suppose he could have a
whole host of other reasons for wanting his brother dead, though,” Doona
suggested.

Hugh shrugged.
 
“He seemed really broken up about it,”
he told her.
 
“But then, maybe he’s
just a good actor.”

Bessie nodded slowly.
 
“I really should talk to Bahey again,”
she remarked.
 
“If anyone knows that
family, it’s her.”

Hugh scratched his head.
 
“Bahey who?”

“Bahey Corlett; she worked
for the family for years, both on the island and across.
 
She was there when I visited, even
though she retired a few years ago,” Bessie explained.

Hugh shook his head.
 
“I don’t think I’ve met her.
 
I haven’t been out to the house, except
for a drive along the road to have stern words with the reporters who are
plaguing the family.”

“They are really
dreadful.
 
Can’t you guys do
anything about them?”
 
Bessie asked.

“Not really,” Hugh
shrugged.
 
“It’s a public road.
 
As long as they stay on the road and
don’t try to get onto the actual property, they can stay.
 
I understand that the Pierce family has
hired their own security, anyway.
 
The men from Manxman should be able to handle a few reporters.”

“I actually know one of
them,” Bessie told him.
 
“Robert
Clague grew up in Laxey.”

“I think you know just about
everyone on this island,” Doona joked.

“And not one of the people I
know would murder anyone,” Bessie answered.

“Don’t be so sure,” Hugh
cautioned.
 
“You never know what it
might take to drive someone over the edge.
 
We don’t have a lot of murders on the island, but I’ve been studying up
on different crimes.
 
Sometimes the
guilty party is the least likely suspect.”

“In this case, then, you need
to take a good look at Mrs. Pierce,” Bessie told him.
 
“She must be the least likely suspect.”

Hugh shrugged.
 
“I’m not taking a good look at anyone,”
he said glumly.
 
“I’m holding down
the fort at the station, looking for lost kittens and truant schoolboys, same
as always.”

Doona gave Hugh’s arm a
sympathetic pat.
 
“Someone has to
keep the station running and look after the rest of Laxey,” she said
soothingly.
 
“Let Rockwell and Kelly
run around asking questions and looking for clues.
 
You just keep your ear to the
ground.
 
I’ll bet you hear more
interesting information than they will ever get from their interrogations.”

Hugh shrugged again and then
changed the subject.
 
“What time are
you meeting Samantha at the Laxey Wheel?” he asked Bessie.