Aunt Bessie Finds (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 6) (27 page)

“Why don’t we walk down to the café on the corner and have a
cuppa
?” Muriel was asking Bertie.

“After all that gin and tonic?” Bertie replied.
 
“No, I think I’m overdue for a nap.”

Muriel frowned at him, but he ignored her, turning to thank Bessie
instead.

“Great party, great gin,” he said.
 
“Make sure you invite me to the next
one.”

“I certainly will,” Bessie promised.
 
It was an easy promise to make, as she
had no intention of having another party, at least not in this flat.

Muriel followed Bertie to the door.
 
“I guess I should be going as well,” she
said.
 
“Thank you for a lovely
time.”

“You’re very welcome,” Bessie replied.

As Bessie shut the door behind them, she could hear Muriel trying
again to persuade Bertie to spend some time with her.
 
She sighed and returned to the flat.

“That was a deep sigh,” Doona said.

“Muriel’s trying so hard to get Bertie to do something with her and
he just wants to have a nap,” Bessie explained.

“I don’t understand women,” Bahey said.
 
“Chasing after men like they can’t live
without them.”

Howard chuckled.
 
“I
certainly know better than that,” he said, slipping his arm around Bahey.
 
“You’ve made it very clear you can live
without me.
 
That’s part of why I
worked so hard to persuade you to let me into your life.”

Bahey flushed.
 
“This
dating thing is stupid, anyway,” she said defensively.
 
“I don’t think I’ll ever get the hang of
it.”

“I hope you don’t,” Howard told her.
 
“I’m hoping you’ll just stick with me.”

“That’s my plan at the moment,” Bahey replied, briefly resting her
head on Howard’s shoulder.
 
“But I’m
not making any promises.”

Bessie laughed.

“Anyway, as nice as this has been, we have to get going,” Bahey
told Bessie.
 
“Howard has to ring
his daughter and then we have dinner plans.”

“Thank you for coming,” Bessie said.
 
“We need to get together soon to talk
about things.”
 
Mary’s presence in
the kitchen meant that Bessie didn’t want to discuss
Bahey’s
concerns at the moment.

“Maybe you could stop over tomorrow morning,” Bahey suggested.
 
“Come after your walk, at nine, maybe,
and have breakfast with me.”

“I’d like that,” Bessie agreed.
 
That should give her plenty of time to
think about everything that she’d heard at the party.

After they left, Doona and Bessie helped Mary pack up nearly all of
the food that remained.
 
Bessie rang
a friend who worked for one of the island’s charities for the homeless.
 
He was delighted to learn that Mary
would be dropping off several large boxes of food.
 

Mary called her driver and he carried all of the boxes down to her
car.
 
Then Mary gave Bessie a huge
hug.
 
“Thank you for helping me get
rid of everything,” she told Bessie.
 
“We must have lunch next week.
 
I’ll ring you.”

Mary was gone before Bessie could do much more than mutter a
reply.
 
Back in her flat, Bessie and
Doona stood and looked at the table that held the drinks.

“What are you going to do with all of this?” Doona asked.

“I have no idea,” Bessie said with a laugh.
 
“They don’t encourage drinking at the
homeless shelters, but it will take me a dozen years to drink all of this.”

“Maybe you should have another party.”

Bessie shook her head.
 
“I think I need some time to recover from this one first,” she
replied.
 

“Well, as it’s Saturday, and I don’t have to work tomorrow, I
suppose I could help you get through a bottle or two tonight, as long as I can
sleep it off on your couch.”

“I don’t know how comfortable the couch is for sleeping,” Bessie
replied.
 
“But I’d love it if you’d
like to stay.
 
This place doesn’t
really feel like home, at least not yet.”

Doona sat down on the couch and then lay down across it.
 
“It’s pretty darn comfortable,” she said
as she sat up.
 
“I don’t think I’ll
have any trouble sleeping, especially after a few drinks.”

The knock on the door startled Bessie.
 
She pulled it open and tried her hide
her surprise as she greeted the man on the doorstep.

“Mr. Green, how kind of you to stop by,” she said.
 

“I was
gonna
try
to get up here earlier,” he said.
 
“But I got busy with stuff.
 
Anyway, if the party isn’t over, I brought mum up as well.”
 
He nodded towards the lift, and Bessie
could see the wheelchair inside it.

“Oh, good heavens, bring her in,” Bessie exclaimed.
 
“Most people have left, but there’s
still plenty of food and lots of drink.”

Nigel looked as if he was going to say something, but after a
moment he turned and walked over to the lift.
 
He pulled the wheelchair from the lift
and turned it around, pushing it towards Bessie’s door.

“Hello, Mrs. Green,” Bessie said when they’d reached her.
 
“It’s very nice to meet you.”

The woman in the chair blinked and gave Bessie a blank look.
 
She was covered in blankets, leaving
only her head visible, but Bessie got the impression of a very small and frail
woman.
 
She had long grey hair that
was matted and tangled as if it hadn’t been brushed or washed in many months.
 
Her eyes were seemingly unfocussed as
they gazed towards Bessie.

Bessie ushered the pair into her flat.
 
She quickly introduced Doona to the new
arrivals.
 
“There’s a lot of food
left; just give me a minute and I’ll put some out,” she told Nigel.

“Oh, I’m fine,” he told her.
 
“I just wanted to stop by and make sure that you felt welcome in your
new home, that’s all.
 
I can’t stay
long.
 
Mum will need her nap.”

Bessie smiled.
 
“Well,
at least have a drink,” she suggested.
 
She gestured towards the “bar” and watched Nigel’s face.
 

“Wow, that’s some selection,” he said with an excited look on his
face.
 
“I suppose I could have one
drink.”

Doona joined him at the table and the two began to discuss the
choices.
 
Bessie took advantage of
the opportunity to try to talk with Margaret Green.

“Mrs. Green, it’s very nice to meet you,” she began again.

The other woman tipped her head and looked at Bessie.
 
After a moment, she grunted.
 

Figuring that was all the encouragement she was going to get,
Bessie continued.
 
“I understand you
moved to the island from across.
 
I
do hope you’re enjoying life here.”

After a moment, the other woman nodded slowly.

“I understand you sometimes sit in the foyer; perhaps you’d like me
to take you for a walk one day,” Bessie suggested.

“Oh, mum can’t walk,” Nigel called, walking over to join them.
 
He had a tall drink in his hand, but
Bessie couldn’t guess what was in it.

“I thought I could push her chair,” Bessie told him.

“Oh, well, I don’t know,” the man replied, doubt in his voice.
 
“Mum likes to stay close to me, don’t
you, mum?”

The woman in the chair definitely shook her head, which made Bessie
smile.
 
“Everyone likes a change of
scenery once in a while,” she told Nigel.
 
“We should plan something soon.”

“Yes, well, we’ll see,” he replied cautiously.
 

“I was going to ask you about Hilary Montgomery,” Bessie said.
 

“What about her?” Nigel asked, looking nervous.

“There was some post for her in my postbox,” Bessie explained.
 
“I didn’t know what to do with it.”

“Oh, that sort of thing happens all the time,” Nigel said.
 
He took a long sip of his drink.
 
“Just leave it in the box or give it to
me and I’ll talk to the postman the next time I see him.”

Bessie nodded.
 
“Did you
say that number five is empty?” she asked.
 
“One of the guests said she sometimes heard noises coming from there.”

Nigel frowned.
 
“People
should mind their own business more,” he said grumpily.
 
“The flat belongs to someone.
 
What they choose to do with it is their
business.”

Bessie shrugged.
 
“I
guess people are just curious,” she replied.

“Curiosity killed the cat,” Nigel replied.

The woman in the chair made a noise that had everyone looking at
her.
 

“What’s
that,
mum?” Nigel asked.

She made another noise, but Bessie couldn’t make words out of the
sounds.

“I think mum is tired,” Nigel said.
 
While the woman shook her head, Nigel
finished his drink quickly.
 
“I’d
better get her home.”

Bessie walked to the door with them.
 
“Thank you for making the effort to come
by,” she told Nigel.
 
“It was nice
meeting you,” she said to his mother.

The woman made a sound and then her eyes met Bessie’s.
 
For a moment, the cloudiness in them
seemed to disappear and Bessie was startled when the woman winked at her.
 
Nigel pushed her out the door before
Bessie could speak.
 
She watched him
push the chair towards the lift before he dashed back.

“I was wondering if you’d like to have a drink later,” he said to
Bessie.
 
“I try to get to know all
of our residents personally, you understand.
 
Maybe after dinner?
 
I could come up when mum’s asleep and we
could go down to the pub?”

Bessie shook her head.
 
“I can’t tonight,” she said.
 
“I’m having dinner and drinks with my friend.
 
Maybe another time.”
 
She held her breath, hoping he wouldn’t
try to pin her down to anything.
 
She didn’t want to be rude, but she had no intention of going anywhere
with the man.

The lift pinged and slid open.
 
Nigel glanced at it and then
back
at Bessie.
 
“Soon,” he said.
 
“I’d like to do it soon.”
 
He dashed back and pushed him mum into
the waiting lift.

Bessie shut her door and headed back into her flat.

“Did I hear him asking you out?” Doona asked.

“You did,” Bessie replied.

“I already told him we had plans for tonight,” Doona said.
 
“He asked me out as well.”

“I suspect he had very different motives for asking you than for
asking me,” Bessie said.

“I don’t know,” Doona replied, shaking her head.
 
“He seems like he’s just desperate for
female company.”

“Other than his mother,” Bessie added.

The pair feasted on leftover party food and shared a bottle of wine,
enjoying one another’s company.
 
As
she snuggled into her bed for the night, Bessie sighed.
 
If she stayed in Douglas for long, she
was really going to miss Doona.

Chapter Thirteen

The next morning, Doona was already awake when Bessie woke at
six.
 
They shared a pot of coffee
before Doona headed for home while Bessie went out for her walk.
 
Having been as far as Summerland the previous
day, today she went in the opposite direction.
 
Again, the change of scenery kept her
walking longer than she might have otherwise, and she soon found herself at the
Sea Terminal.

She looked out to sea for a while, watching the early morning ferry.
 
Ferry
staff were
loading it up, ready for its departure.
 
It didn’t seem that many years ago that the terminal building had been
built, but when Bessie did the math, she
realised
the
building was over thirty years old.
 
She frowned and turned to head back towards her flat, smiling when she
spotted the Tower of Refuge in the
harbour
.

The tower had been built on a partially submerged rock as a safe
location for people to shelter within if they hit the rock during a storm and
couldn’t get safely to shore.
 
As it
had been constructed in the eighteen-thirties, Bessie felt young by
comparison.
 
Back at her flat, she
combed a few wind-blown tangles from her short hair and then headed to
Bahey’s
flat next door.

“Ah, Bessie, come in and have some coffee,” Bahey suggested as she
showed Bessie into the flat.

“I’ve had rather a lot of coffee already today,” Bessie
replied.
 
“If tea is too much
bother, I’ll just have a glass of water, please.”

“Oh, tea’s no bother,” Bahey replied.
 
“I’ll even join you and leave the coffee
for Howard.”

“I think I need it today,” Howard commented as he topped up his mug
from the pot on
Bahey’s
counter.
 
“I didn’t have a good night.”

“Too much fussing over that daughter of yours,” Bahey muttered
under her breath.
 
Bessie heard it
clearly, but Howard either didn’t or pretended he didn’t.

“So, what’s new with the investigation?” Bahey asked as they all
sat down with their drinks.

“From what I learned yesterday, it does seem as if there are
several odd things going on,” Bessie told her friend.
 
“And there is definitely someone using
flat five, even if they aren’t actually living there.”

“So why does Nigel keep telling me it’s empty?” Bahey demanded.

“He told me that someone is using it and that I should mind my own
business,” Bessie replied.
 
“Someone
else suggested that it’s being used as a love nest.”

“I suppose that’s possible,” Bahey said.
 
“But what about all the other strange
little things?
 
And what about the
post?
 
And what about the mystery
man?”

“As for the mystery man, I think that’s going to have to remain a
mystery. But I’m going to send myself a bunch of letters this week and see how
long they take to get to me,” Bessie told her.
 
“And I’m going to start leaving notes on
your door to see if you get them.
 
The mirror is still in place outside my door and my welcome mat hasn’t
moved for a few days, so perhaps whoever was playing games has grown bored and
stopped.”

“I hope so,” Bahey replied.
 
“I haven’t noticed anything odd in the last few days, either, now that
you mention it.”

Bessie smiled.
 
“Maybe I
can move back to
Laxey
sooner rather than later.”

“I’d hate to see you go,” Bahey replied.
 
“Are you missing your home a lot?”

Bessie thought about her reply for a moment.
 
“Yes and no,” she said eventually.
 
“I miss my privacy and my beach, but I’m
quite enjoying the change in scenery.
 
All of the little things going on here seem harmless enough, so it’s
sort of fun to play detective as well.”

The trio finished their drinks while speculating on who might be
using the ground floor flat.

“Maybe Nigel is using it for late-night meetings with some woman
who’s too embarrassed to be seen in public with him,” Bahey suggested.

“I’ll bet it’s some Member of the House of Keys,” Howard said.
 
“Politicians all seem like the type to
cheat on their wives.”

Bessie shook her head.
 
“Actually, most of the MHKs I’ve known over the years have been
wonderful,” she told the man.
 
Of
course, I don’t actually know any of the current group.”

“Maybe that Grant Robertson who owns the building is the real
owner,” Bahey said.
 
“Although he
isn’t married, so I’m not sure why he’d need to sneak around in a tiny flat
down here.
 
He has a huge house in
Onchan
that overlooks the sea, anyway.”

Bessie thought again about George Quayle, but she bit her
tongue.
 
She wasn’t going to
speculate about his private life.
 
She could only hope, for Mary’s sake, that it wasn’t him using the flat.

With nothing else planned for the day, Bessie walked into town to
do some more shopping.
 
Not all the
shops had Sunday hours, but there were enough stores open to allow her to get
everything she was after.
 
She
returned home with a few new books and a box of expensive chocolates as a
special treat.

There was a note stuck to her door when she got back.
 
She pulled the light green envelope off
and carried it into her flat with her.

Just
a little thank you for the lovely party yesterday.
 
Muriel

Bessie smiled as she tucked the slip of green paper into the front
of one of her new books.
 
It would
work quite nicely as a bookmark.
 
She was always using random things such as torn theatre tickets or unwanted
business cards in the many books she read.
 
They were just as effective as the things marketed as “bookmarks” and
they were generally to hand.

She fixed herself a light lunch and then curled up with one of the
books.
 
The sound of a door slamming
disturbed her a few minutes later.
 
Someone
knocked on her door.
 
Bessie sighed
and set her book down.

“Ah, Bertie, how nice to see you again,” she said politely when
she’d opened her door.

“I was just heading down for some Sunday lunch at the pub and I
wondered if you’d like to join me,” he said, giving Bessie a bright smile.
 
“As a thank you, like, for yesterday.”

“I just had lunch,” Bessie told him with an apologetic smile.
 
“Maybe another time.”

“Next Sunday?” Bertie asked.
 
“I’ll collect you about this time, if that works for you.”

Bessie felt a bit stuck.
 
“Sure, that sounds great,” she said reluctantly.

“Good, okay then.”
 
Bertie glanced down the corridor.
 
“I suppose I should ask Muriel or Ruth
to join me today,” he said, sighing.
 
“I hate eating alone.”

Bessie gave him a sympathetic smile.
 
“I’ve grown quite used to it over the
years,” she told the man.
 
“I always
take a book.”

“I don’t read much,” Bertie said.
 
He took a few steps down the hall and
knocked lightly on Muriel’s door.

Bessie stood and watched
,
curious as to
what was going to happen next.

“Ah, Bertie, how are you?” Muriel asked.
 
Bessie could see that the other woman
looked slightly flustered, but delighted to see the man on her doorstep.

“I was just going down to the pub for lunch and I fancied a bit of
company,” Bertie replied.
 
“Just
friendly, like.”

“Oh, I’d love that,” Muriel gushed.
 
“I was just wondering what to do for
lunch.”
 
She disappeared back into
the flat, presumably to get ready.

“Don’t forget your money,” Bertie called after her.

Bessie pressed her lips together so that she wouldn’t laugh out
loud as she turned and went back into her flat.

After that little bit of excitement, the rest of Bessie’s Sunday
was uneventful.
 
Soup was her
evening meal, and then she spent some time trying to come up with some sort of
plan for the next week.
 
She needed
to see if Bahey was right about the post, she wanted to leave notes on
Bahey’s
door to see if they disappeared, and she hoped to
spend more time with Margaret Green.
 
Bessie had a feeling that Nigel’s mother knew everything that was going
on in the building, but she had to find a way to communicate with the woman.

Up at her normal time, after breakfast on Monday morning, Bessie
took a long walk.
 
She dropped
letters addressed to
herself
in three different post
boxes along the promenade.
 
Back at
home, she stuck a note on
Bahey’s
door and then let
herself into her own flat.
 
A moment
later she walked back out, uncertain of what was different, but sure that
something was.

There was a welcome mat in front of Bertie’s door, Bessie
realised
.
 
And
it looked exactly like Bessie’s own.
 
Her own mat was still there; she would have noticed its absence
immediately, but the new one had only barely registered in the back of her
mind.
 
She shrugged.
 
There was no law against Bertie buying
the same mat.

Now that she was living in Douglas, Bessie decided it was time to
take advantage of all that the town had to offer.
 
Accordingly, she spent the day at the
Manx Museum, first taking a slow stroll around the exhibits she’d seen hundreds
of times before and then tackling some research that she’d been meaning to do
for weeks.

She’d never had a set routine for working in the museum library,
instead coming and going as she pleased, but now that she was within easy
walking distance of the place, she felt like maybe she should make some sort of
formal arrangement.

“I think I’ll try to come in on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays
while I’m staying in Douglas,” she told Marjorie, when her friend stopped at
the table where she was working.
 

“It would be great to have you here that often,” Marjorie
replied.
 
“We just received another
box of papers from one of the parish churches and I haven’t even opened
it.
 
I would love it if you could
catalogue it for me.”

Bessie beamed.
 
That was
exactly the sort of work she loved best.
 
Who knew what treasures might be hidden away in the piles of
papers?
 
“I can start now,” she
suggested to Marjorie.

“How about after lunch?” Marjorie countered.
 
The pair had a quick lunch together in
the small museum café, where Marjorie insisted that Bessie practice her Manx.

“
Kys
t’ou
?”
Marjorie asked.

“Oh, um, ta
mee
braew
,”
Bessie replied awkwardly.
 
“And I
don’t remember any food words, so please don’t ask.”

Marjorie shook her head.
 
“You’ve taken my beginner’s class what, three times?
 
You should be able to have a simple
conversation by now.”

Bessie sighed.
 
“I’m
sorry,” she said with genuine feeling.
 
“I wish I could, but somehow, no matter how hard I try, none of it seems
to stay in my brain.”

Marjorie patted her hand.
 
“You need to practice more,” she suggested.
 
“If you’re going to be at the museum
three times a week for a while, I’ll try to stop by and chat with you whenever
you’re here.”

Bessie forced herself to smile and thank her friend.
 
Marjorie meant well and truly loved the
difficult Celtic language.
 
The
least Bessie could do was try a little harder.

After lunch Bessie dug into the newly arrived box with enthusiasm.
 
Each paper had to be read through and
categorised
and then listed on an index.
 
Bessie only managed to get through a
small portion of the box before it was time for the library to close for the
day.

“I’m afraid I didn’t get very far,” she said apologetically to
Marjorie as she passed the box back to her.

“I’d rather you took your time and did it correctly,” Marjorie
replied.