Aunt Bessie Goes (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 7) (9 page)

 
“Mark Carr moved across not long after
Adam’s disappearance.
 
Do you think
the two things are linked?” Bessie asked, changing the subject.

“I never liked
Mark and I tried hard to avoid him,” Sarah replied.
 
“I suspect that, with Adam gone, he
figured he might as well try his luck elsewhere.”

“Do you know
if he believed the story about Australia?” Bessie asked.

“I have no
idea what he was told or what he believed,” Sarah answered.
 
She took a deep breath.
 
“One night, when I was about sixteen and
Adam and Mark were fourteen, Mark slept over at our house.
 
In the middle of the night he climbed
into bed with me and, well, tried to, you know.”
 
She stopped and blushed, looking down at
the table.

Mike took her
hands.
 
“You never told me this,” he
said softly.

“I kneed him
in the, um, well, most sensitive part of his anatomy and sent him back to
Adam,” Sarah replied, smiling wryly.
 
“As far as I can recall, we never spoke to each other again.”

Bessie patted
her hand.
 
“Good for you,” she
said.
 

“Anyway, you
can understand why I never rang him to ask if he’d known that Adam was planning
to move away.”

“I can
indeed,” Bessie replied.
 
“I suppose
the police will be asking him that, along with many other questions.”

“First they
have to find him,” Mike said.

“What do you
mean?” Bessie asked.

“Apparently he
was released from prison last month, on probation.
 
He told them he was coming back to the
island.
 
He was supposed to provide
a new address and report to the probation service here within forty-eight
hours, but he never did so.”

“So we don’t
know if he’s on the island or elsewhere,” Bessie said with a sigh.

“Maybe he went
to Australia,” Sarah said dryly.

“So where does
all of this leave us?” Mike asked his wife.
 
“Have you remembered anything useful to
tell the police?”

Sarah shook
her head.
 
“I don’t think so,” she
rubbed her forehead.
 
“When did I
take those headache tablets?” she asked.

Mike glanced
at the clock.
 
“You can have some
more in a little while,” he told her.
  
“You should eat something while
you’re waiting.”

Sarah sighed
and rolled her eyes at Bessie.
 
“Mike thinks tea and scones can cure anything,” she told her.

“Well, they
can’t hurt,”
Bessie
replied.

Sarah finished
another scone and her second cup of tea and then nibbled her way though a small
sandwich as well.
 
Bessie was
pleased to see the woman’s
colour
improving as she
ate.
 

“Where did these
little cakes come from?” Bessie asked as she worked her way through her own
plate.

Mike named a
bakery that had only just recently opened in Port Erin.
 
“We’ve enjoyed everything we’ve tried
from them,” he told Bessie.

“I can see
why,” Bessie replied.

The trio
chatted about the weather and the food and nothing of consequence for several
minutes, while Sarah slowly cleared the plates her husband had fixed for
her.
 
Finally, when both were empty,
she sat back.

“Thank you,”
she said intently to Bessie.
 
“I
really just needed to talk everything through with someone who
understands.
 
Not that Mike hasn’t
been wonderful,” she added quickly.
 
“But you were actually there, all through my childhood and when Adam disappeared.”

Bessie patted
her hand.
 
“I keep trying to
remember what your mother said at the time,” she told Sarah.
 
“I think
Elinor
was the one who shared the story.
 
If I recall correctly, she told everyone that your mother was quite
distressed by Adam’s decision to go and that she’d prefer not to talk about
it.”

Sarah
snorted.
 
“It would be like mum to
get
Elinor
to cover for her,” she said sharply.
 
“And it would be like
Elinor
to be thrilled to be asked to tell everyone the
tragic story.
 
No doubt
Elinor
made lots of references to how her Nathan would
never dream of moving away and leaving her like that.”

Elinor
Lewis had been the driving force behind the
Raspberry Jam Ladies.
 
She was a
formidable woman who
organised
and ran the group to
her own very particular standards.
 
Sarah
was absolutely right,
Elinor
would have loved the
chance to spread Nancy’s sad story about her son’s sudden decision to leave and
she would have taken every opportunity to remind everyone of her endless
devotion to her own mentally challenged son.
 
As
Elinor
had
also passed away in July, there was no way to find out exactly what Nancy had
told her about Adam’s disappearance, though.

“I think we’d
better let Bessie get home again,” Mike suggested now.
 
“We’ve taken up her entire afternoon.”

“I’m glad I
could come and talk to you both,” Bessie said.
 
“It was no bother at all.”

“But the day
is quickly getting away from us,” Mike pointed out.

“You go,”
Sarah said.
 
“I’m feeling much
better, actually.”

Bessie rose to
her feet and gave Sarah another hug.
 
“I’m glad you found Mr. Hiccup in your mother’s things,” she whispered
to the woman.
 
“I’m sure he’s a
strange sort of comfort.”

Sarah nodded,
her eyes filling with more tears.
 
“He is, at that,” she agreed.
 
“I think I might have him buried with Adam.”

“I wouldn’t,”
Bessie told her.
 
“I think you
should keep him with you, but that’s just my opinion.”

“I guess I
need to think about it,” Sarah replied.
 
“I have so many things to think about.”

“I’ll be back
as quickly as I can,” Mike told Sarah.
 

“I can get a
taxi home,” Bessie offered.
 
“I hate
for you to leave Sarah alone.”

“I’m fine,”
Sarah said firmly.
 
“I’ll tidy up
the tea things and throw something together for an evening meal.
 
By that time Mike will be back.”

Bessie
hesitated, but Mike spoke up.

“The drive
will help clear my head,” he told Bessie.
 
“After the last few hours, I think I need it.”

At the door,
Sarah gave Bessie yet another hug.
 
“I meant what I said,” she told her.
 
“I want you to investigate.
 
The police aren’t going to care about a
thirty year old murder that must have been committed by people who are also
dead.
 
But I want to know what
happened.
 
You know everyone in
Laxey.
 
Someone must know
something.”

Bessie shook
her head.
 
“The police will
investigate as thoroughly as they can,” she told the woman.
 
“I’ll be happy to help Inspector
Rockwell if he needs any background information, but investigating is their
job.”

“I hope you’ll
keep me informed as you find things out,” Sarah continued as if Bessie hadn’t
spoken.
 
“And I hope you’ll come to
Adam’s memorial service when we have it.”

“Of course, I’ll
do both,” Bessie assured her.

The drive back
to Laxey was mostly a silent one.
 
Bessie was lost in the
past,
trying to recall
anything and everything that might help the police, and Sarah, figure out what
had happened to Adam.
 
When they
pulled up at Bessie’s cottage, Mike walked Bessie to her door.

“Thank you,”
he said intensely.
 
You were a huge
help to her.
 
For one thing, that’s
the first food she’s eaten since the police came yesterday afternoon.
 
I really can’t thank you enough.”

Bessie gave
him a hug.
 
“You two seem very
well-suited,” she told him.
 
“I can
tell you both care about one another.
 
I’m sure you’ll help her get through this.
 
Please don’t hesitate to ring if you
think I can help in any way.”

“Are you
really going to investigate?” Mike asked.

“As I told
Sarah, that’s the job of the police.
 
I might ask a few questions here and there, and obviously, I’ll share everything
I can remember with Inspector Rockwell, but investigating is his job.”

“I’ll try to
persuade Sarah of that,” Mike said with a smile.
 
“Thank you again.”

Bessie paced
anxiously around her cottage after he’d driven away.
 
She felt terribly unsettled.
 
She was so happy when the phone offered
a distraction that she answered it without waiting to see who was ringing.

“The inspector
was wondering if you’d like some company for dinner,”
Doona’s
voice said in Bessie’s ear.
 
“He’d
really like to talk to you about Nancy King.”

“That sounds
good,” Bessie agreed quickly.
 
“Just
the inspector?”

“Actually, I
think Hugh and I will be coming as well, but I’m not totally sure,” Doona
replied.
 
“Whoever comes will bring
plenty of food with them.”

“Perfect,”
Bessie said.
 
“Soon?”

Doona
laughed.
 
“Are you bored?” she
asked.

“More like
restless and frustrated,” Bessie replied.
 
“I spent the afternoon with Mike and Sarah
Combe
and I think I understand even less now than I did before.”

“Someone
should be there around six,” Doona told her.
 
“You’ll just have to wait patiently
until then.”

After she hung
up the phone, Bessie looked at the clock.
 
She had over an hour to fill before her guests would arrive.
 
The book on Anglesey was only slightly
more tempting than a walk in the rain, but she settled in with the book and
managed to fill the time.

Chapter
Five

A section in
the book on Iron Age finds had Bessie hunting for a book on the history of the
Isle of Man for comparison purposes, when someone knocked on her door.
 
She gave herself a mental pat on the
back for managing to get her mind off of Adam King for an entire hour before
she opened the door.

Hugh Watterson
grinned at her.
 
“Aunt Bessie, how
are you?” he asked, sweeping her up into a huge hug.
 
“I feel as if I haven’t seen you in
years,” he said after he’d let her go.
 

“It has been a
while,” Bessie agreed, smiling at the young constable.
 
Hugh was in his twenties and he towered
over Bessie, but his face still had a youthful appearance that always reminded
Bessie of the fifteen-year-old boy he had been not that long ago.
 
For a change his brown hair looked as if
it had been very recently trimmed.
 
He was dressed in a pair of trousers and a light jumper rather than the jeans
and sweatshirt he usually wore when he wasn’t in uniform.
 

“How’s Grace?”
Bessie asked, guessing that Hugh’s pretty blonde girlfriend was the cause of
his new, smarter appearance.
 

“She’s
terrific,” Hugh said, blushing.
  
“I’m going to see her later, after dinner.
 
We have tickets for a theatre show that
some of her friends are doing.
 
It
doesn’t start until ten, but I’m on the late shift tomorrow and Grace is just
working as a supply teacher at the moment, so she’ll be able to take the day
off.”

“She couldn’t
get a position up here, then?” Bessie asked.
 
Grace had been teaching in Douglas, but
she had been hoping to find a place at the primary school in either Laxey or
Lonan
so that she could move closer to Hugh.

“No, neither
school had a suitable opening, but she really didn’t fancy going back to where
she was either.
 
She found a
flat-share in
Lonan
with some other girls, so her
share of the rent isn’t too bad.
 
She’s just about making ends meet with supply teaching.”

“And she’s
much closer to you,” Bessie added.

Hugh blushed
again.
 
“Yeah, well, that’s the best
part,” he said.

“I never did
hear how your holiday went,” Bessie said after she’d found Hugh a cold
drink.
 
“How was your trip across
with Grace and her family?”

Hugh shook his
head and then laughed.
 
“It was
okay, really.
 
Grace’s little sister
was only annoying about three-quarters of the time and I was only asked when I
was going to propose by every single family member we met.”

Bessie laughed.
 
“It’s good that she has a large and
loving family,” she told Hugh.

“It is,” Hugh
agreed.
 
“But it takes some getting
used to.
 
My family isn’t really
like theirs.”

Bessie
nodded.
 
She’d watched Hugh grow up,
even let him sleep in her spare room on occasion when he was having a tough
time at home.
 
“I’m glad things are
going so well for you two.
 
I really
like Grace,” she told him.

“I really like
her, too,” Hugh said.
 
“I think I
might propose at Christmas.
 
That
seems sort of romantic, doesn’t it?”

“It does,”
Bessie agreed, thinking of her own failed romances and her own Christmas
proposal.
 
“But sometimes it’s
better to do your asking sooner rather than later.”

Hugh
nodded.
 
“I know.
 
I’m still trying to figure it all out,
though.”

Bessie felt
like giving him a lot more advice, but she knew she needed to tread
carefully.
  
The knock on the
door stopped her before she’d even started.

“John, how
nice to see you again,” Bessie said when she’d opened the door.
 
“And Doona, you too, of course.”

The pair had
come together in John’s car and now they carried in boxes full of takeaway
containers.
 

“I brought a
rhubarb crumble for pudding,” Doona said.
 
“I’d love to tell you I made it myself, but I didn’t have time to pull
it out of the bakery box before I came.”

Bessie
laughed.
 
“Never mind, crumble is
perfect on a cold and wet day, wherever it’s come from.”

John spread
the containers across Bessie’s counter and the foursome filled their
plates.
 
Then they settled in at
Bessie’s kitchen table with their plates and cold drinks.

“This is
wonderful,” Bessie said after several bites.

“There’s a new
place, right across the street from the station,” John told her.
 
“They just opened last week and everyone
at the station has been going there almost every day for lunch.”

“They’re
really quick, and everything I’ve tried has been tasty,” Doona added.

“I’m afraid
I’m going to have to add more fitness classes to the schedule, though,” John
said.
 
“I think we’re all getting
fat from eating too well.”

John had
recently converted a small, unused space at the station into an exercise room
and had arranged for instructors from the local gym to come in and teach
classes a few times a week.
 
Doona
had told Bessie that several of the weight training classes were well attended
by the young constables, at least in part because John himself took the class
whenever he could.
 
Additionally,
several of the front desk staff
were
apparently
enjoying the aerobics classes.
 
Doona hadn’t tried a class yet, but she confessed to Bessie that she was
tempted.

“I’ve never
really worried about my weight,” she’d told Bessie a week earlier.
 
“But I know I could do with being
fitter.
 
With everyone else around
me getting into shape, I might just have to give it a try.”

Now they kept
the conversation light while they ate, discussing local politics and what the
royal family was up to, rather than going straight into discussing the body
that was found at the King house.
 

“Bessie, you
didn’t take much to eat,” Doona remarked when Bessie cleared her plate before
the others.

“I had tea
with Mike and Sarah
Combe
,” she explained.
 
“They had fresh scones and cakes and
sandwiches, and I tried just about everything.
 
I’m sure Hugh can help out tonight with
anything I can’t manage.”

Hugh laughed.
 
“I suppose a second helping won’t hurt,”
he said as he got up from the table to refill his plate.
 
“I’m going to be having a late night,
after all.”

After Hugh had
finished his third helping, Doona cleared the table and quickly did the washing
up.
 
When everyone had generous
helpings of crumble with custard in front of them, John cleared his throat.

“We have a lot
to cover and young Hugh has a hot date,” he said.
 
“I think we should get started.”

“By all
means,” Bessie said, feeling comforted by the warm pudding.

“This case is
a little different from a standard murder investigation,” John began.
 
“We are withholding some information,
but for the most part, we’re sharing nearly everything we learn.
 
We’re trying to trigger people’s
memories of events from thirty years ago and we need all the help we can get.”

“Are you sure
it was murder?” Bessie asked.

“No, not
entirely at this point,” John conceded.
 
“Certainly concealing the body was a crime, even if it wasn’t murder,
but the coroner hasn’t released any of his findings to us yet.
 
It is possible, perhaps even plausible,
that the verdict will be inconclusive.
 
Thirty years is a long time and the body wasn’t exactly being kept in
ideal conditions behind that wall.”

“But we’re
treating it as murder,” Hugh added.

“We are,” John
confirmed.
 
“And from what we’ve
been told so far, it seems likely that we know who the murderers were, as well,
or at least who put the body behind the wall.”

“Sarah said
she remembers her father building the wall,” Bessie said.
 
“She even offered to help, but he
wouldn’t let her.”

“She told me
the same thing,” John said.
 

“She also said
that her father complained that Adam had left and wasn’t there to help,” Bessie
added.

“He what?”
Doona demanded.
 
“That’s pretty
cold, considering he had to know that Adam was dead, most likely because he’d
killed him.”

“We don’t know
that,” John reminded her.
 

“But it seems
like the most likely scenario,” Doona argued.
 
“They wouldn’t have hidden their own
son’s body if someone else had killed him, would they?”

“I suppose
that rather depends on who that someone else might have been,” Bessie said,
thoughtfully.
 
“If they were afraid
of the person or the person had some hold over them, they might have done it,
mightn’t they?”

“Keeping it
quiet for thirty years feels like guilt to me,” Doona said firmly.
 
“If they were afraid of someone, surely
they would have talked eventually.”

“Unless they
were afraid of being blamed.
 
Besides, they’d committed a crime themselves, when they hid the body,
right?
 
Perhaps they were afraid of
being in trouble themselves or of not being able to prove who’d really done
it.”
 
Bessie shook her head.
 
“I’m not sure we can ever figure out
what happened thirty years ago.”

John
nodded.
 
“Unfortunately, that may
well be the case.
 
No doubt many
people will assume that Frederick and Nancy King murdered their son and hid his
body.
 
It’s also possible that Adam
met with some unfortunate accident and his parents simply hid the body for some
reason.
 
At this point, it’s also
possible that the body isn’t Adam King, but we’re going with that as a working
assumption.”

“So what can I
do to help?” Bessie asked.

“I need you to
tell me everything you can remember about the summer before young Adam
disappeared,” John said.
 
“Did you
see much of Adam?
 
What was Nancy
doing?
 
Did anything different or
strange happen on the island that summer?
 
That sort of thing.”

Bessie
sighed.
 
“I’ll have to dig out my
old diaries,” she told John.
 
“I
doubt they’ll be anything interesting in them, but I can have a look.”

“I didn’t know
you kept diaries,” Doona said.

“When I was
younger I wrote nearly every day, but I’m quite out of the habit now,” Bessie
told her.
 
“I’m sure I have some
from the right time period, but I may not have written in them during that
particular summer.
 
I’ll definitely
see what I can find.”

“I’d really
appreciate that,” John told her.
 
“
And the sooner the better,” he added.

Bessie
nodded.
  
“First thing
tomorrow,” she promised.

“For tonight,
I’d like to hear about your tea with Sarah
Combe
, and
also anything you can remember about Adam and his disappearance, just off the
top of your head,” John continued.

“Sure,” Bessie
said.
 
“Let me put the kettle on.”

“I’ll get it,”
Doona said, getting up.
 

Bessie
shrugged.
 
“Sarah’s distraught,” she
told the inspector.
 
“She was very
upset when her mother died, but this has just about devastated her.
 
She and Adam were very close and I think
she feels guilty that she never questioned what her parents told her about his
disappearance.”

“Do you
remember what you were told?” John asked.

“I was trying
to remember when I talked to Sarah,” Bessie replied.
 
“I seem to remember
Elinor
telling me about Adam’s leaving and suggesting that I not mention it to Nancy,
as she was very upset about it.”

“And that
didn’t seem odd to you at the time?” Hugh queried.

“We’ve already
talked at length about what a secretive group the Raspberry Jam Ladies were,”
Bessie said.
 
“And how they
protected each other.
 
It wasn’t at
all unusual for one of them to share news about another, and it wasn’t the
first time I was asked to not talk to someone about something upsetting,
either.”

“Can you
recall specific examples of that?” John asked.
 
“I’m just wondering how often it
happened and under what circumstances.”

“It was
usually to do with their children,” Bessie said.
 
“So this felt no different to when I was
asked not to mention Joan’s baby after she’d lost her or when everyone suddenly
stopped talking about Matthew in front of Agnes after he’d moved across.
 
The ladies were always trying to protect
one another from having to discuss upsetting subjects.
 
It’s no different to my telling people
not to ask Doona rude questions about her divorce, really.”