Aunt Bessie's Holiday (21 page)

“Are you okay?” Andrew asked.
 

The pair fell into step together, heading
towards the centre of the village.

“I’m fine,” Bessie replied without thought.

Andrew stopped and put a hand on her
arm.
 
“But how are you really?” he
asked when she looked at him.

“I’m worried about Doona,” she confessed.

“A little bird told me that the murder
weapon came from your cabin,” Andrew said quietly.

“I thought as much from the questions
Margaret Hopkins was asking,” Bessie told him.
 
“And it probably had Doona’s
fingerprints all over it, as well.”

“If it did, I think Margaret would have arrested
Doona by now,” the man replied.

“If it was our knife, it should have had
Doona’s prints on it,” Bessie argued.
 
“She used it the night of the murder to open some boxes.”

Andrew shrugged.
 
“Maybe the police could only get partial
prints or something,” he said.
 
“They make it look easy on telly, but very few people leave nice
complete and usable fingerprints on things that they use.”

“So did your little bird have anything else
interesting to tell you?” Bessie asked.

“They’re considering a number of different
suspects,” he replied.
 
“There are
quite a few people who seem to have had motives.”

“Like who?” Bessie demanded.

Andrew shook his head.
 
“I really can’t talk about an active
police investigation,” he said, “even if I’m not really with the police anymore.”

“Doona and I made a list,” Bessie told
him.
 
“If I run through it with you,
will you tell me if we’ve missed anyone?”

“Bessie, this is a police
investigation.
 
You shouldn’t be
getting involved,” he argued.

“My dearest friend is a suspect and it looks
like the murderer may have found the weapon on our patio,” Bessie replied
tartly.
 
“We’re already involved,
whether we want to be or not.”

“Who’s on your list, then?” he asked.

Bessie frowned and then rattled off all of
the names she could think of.
  
“Lawrence Jenkins, Harold Butler,
Mai Stratton, Jessica Howe, Herbert Howe, Joe Klein, Nathan Beck and probably
Monique Beck as well,” she said.

“I’m not sure what motive you can assign to
some of them,” he told her.
 
“But
all of those people are certainly on my list as well.”

“But your list must be longer than mine,”
Bessie replied.

“Not really,” Andrew said.
 
“Margaret has to consider every single
person at Lakeview, from guests to staff, but the vast majority of people
didn’t know Charles and were tucked up in bed, fast asleep, when he was
killed.”

“There must be other members of staff who’ve
made your list,” Bessie suggested.

“By this time of year, the park is running
on limited staff.
  
If Charles
had been killed in August, when the park is at its busiest, Margaret would have
had a much bigger job.
 
As it is,
aside from a few waitresses that Charles had flirtations with, very few of the
staff seemed to have had much interaction with the man at all.
 
Harold was still handling most of the
day-to-day operations of the park.”

“So what was Charles doing?”

“Cost cutting,” Andrew said dryly.
 
“Which is why he’d had trouble with
Nathan Beck.
 
Charles wanted to use
a single source for all of the food that the park purchases for use in the
various restaurants.
 
Nathan has his
own suppliers for
L’Ex
périence Anglaise
and he wasn’t happy about
the proposed changes.”

“Seems a weak motive for murder,” Bessie
remarked.

“People have been killed for less,” Andrew
told her.

They’d now reached the village centre and
before Bessie could reply, several members of his family surrounded
Andrew.
 
Bessie just waved to him as
two small girls demanding his immediate attention swept him into the Squirrel’s
Drey.
 
He smiled and waved back,
leaving Bessie
on her own
to consider what they’d
discussed.

Not wanting to go back to the lodge and
disturb Doona, Bessie got herself a cup of tea from one of the takeaway counters
and sat down in the food court.
 
She
sipped her tea and watched as people came and went through the building.
 
Margaret Hopkins had a huge job on her
hands if she had to investigate every single guest, she thought, even if she
can eliminate those under eighteen.
 

From her quiet corner, Bessie watched as Mai
wandered in.
 
The girl glanced
around the large space as if looking for someone.
 
After a moment, she headed straight
towards Bessie.
 
There was a
Lakeview brochure on the table, and, without thinking, Bessie picked it up and
began to leaf through it.
 
Mai
didn’t even seem to notice her; instead she walked past her and took a seat at
a table a few places away from Bessie’s.
 

As Bessie sipped her tea, she spotted Harold
Butler coming out of the door marked “staff.”
 
Bessie was surprised when he headed
towards Mai.
 
He was clearly
focussed on the girl and didn’t seem to see Bessie, who kept her head down,
ostensibly studying the brochure.
 
Bessie watched with interest as the pair greeted one another, seemingly
politely.
 
Harold slid into the seat
across from Mai and Bessie could only wish she were close enough to overhear
the conversation that followed.

They’d only been together a few minutes when
it appeared that things were getting quite heated.
 
Bessie looked away as Mai rose to her
feet.
 
There was a mirror on the opposite
wall, and Bessie found that she could see the pair quite easily while
pretending to look away from them.
 
Mai’s voice was getting louder and Bessie could suddenly make out a few
words.

“…
.should
I have to
cover for her?
 
I’ve worked hard
enough today without having to wait tables tonight.”

Harold’s reply was too quiet for Bessie to
hear, but Mai wasn’t trying to keep her voice down anymore.

“So close the restaurant,” she said loudly.

When Harold answered, Bessie could hear
Mai’s bitter laugh before she replied.

“Yeah, you’re right, I would have to listen
to the complaints, wouldn’t I?
 
I suppose
I don’t have a choice.
 
At least you
could look a little less smug about it, though.”

Harold stood up, and then to Bessie’s
surprise, gave the girl a hug that looked affectionate.
 
Bessie waited for Mai to object, but the
girl returned the embrace, looking up into Harold’s eyes and whispering
something to him.
 
He nodded and
then glanced around, as if suddenly nervous that someone had seen them.
 
Mai sank back down into her seat, while
Harold strode quickly away.

Mai was looking down at the table, which
gave Bessie her chance.
 
She picked
up her cup and headed straight towards the girl.

“Mai, this is a surprise,” she said
brightly.
 
“May I join you?
 
I hate sitting on my own, even if I’m
only having a cuppa.”

Bessie sat down opposite the girl, not
waiting for a reply.
 
Mai looked up
in surprise, and then smiled mechanically.

“Of course, feel free,” she muttered without
enthusiasm.

“Oh, dear, something tells me you aren’t
having a good afternoon,” Bessie said.
 
“I do hope everything is okay.”

“Oh, I’m fine,”
Mai
said.
 
“I’ve just been working
really hard.
 
We had a much larger
staff in the summer, and now everyone who is still here has to work twice as
hard to keep things running smoothly.”

“I’d have thought managing guest services
was a busy enough job on its own,” Bessie said.

“It is, really,” Mai replied.
 
“But I actually volunteered to teach the
watercolour class.
 
I love painting,
and teaching the class lets me spend time with guests who aren’t complaining,
which is nice.”

Bessie chuckled.
 
“I suppose that’s a help,” she
said.
 
“But I can’t imagine many
guests complain.
 
The park is so
lovely.”

“You’d be surprised,” Mai replied
darkly.
 
“Some people will complain
about everything in the hopes of getting a discount.
 
And a lot of parents have very high
expectations for anything and everything that their children do, as well.”

“I suppose I can see that,” Bessie said
thoughtfully.
  
“I do hope
you’re done for the day and can just go home and relax now.”

“I wish,” Mai said, frowning.
 
“I’ve just been told that I have to wait
tables in one of the restaurants tonight.
 
It seems Monique Beck isn’t feeling well and I have to take her place.”

“Oh, dear,” Bessie exclaimed.
 
“What’s wrong with Monique?”

“Who knows?
 
She’s always taking time off.
 
If her husband wasn’t such an amazing
chef, she’d have been fired a long time ago.”

“Well, I hope she feels better soon,”
Bessie
said.

“Oh, I’m sure she just didn’t feel like
working today,” Mai said airily.
 
“I
just hope Harold won’t put up with as much nonsense from her as Charles
did.”
 

Mai lowered her voice and leaned towards
Bessie.
 
‘Charles thought Nathan was
incredible, and he was willing to pay Monique just to sit in a corner all day
if it kept Nathan happy,” she whispered.

“Really?” Bessie murmured.

Mai stood up abruptly.
 
“I’d better get to work,” she said with
artificial cheer.

Bessie turned to see what had caused Mai’s
mood change, but the only person she recognised behind her was Doona, who was
walking towards them.

“Mrs. Moore, I hope you enjoyed the class
this afternoon,” Mai said brightly
 
“I’m looking forward to working with you again on Friday.”

Before Doona said anything, Mai dashed away.

“That was odd,” Bessie said.
 

“Just more VIP treatment,” Doona said with a
shrug.
 

“I suppose,” Bessie replied.
 
“Anyway, are you ready for something to
eat?”

Doona sat down at the small table.
 
When she looked over at Bessie, Bessie
could see tears in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Bessie asked.

“Let’s go for a walk,” Doona suggested, as a
large party headed towards their corner.

“Of course,” Bessie agreed quickly.
 

The pair walked out of the building and made
their way around the lake.
 
Doona
was silent and Bessie walked along
beside
her, wishing
she knew how to help her friend.

A large car with “Security” written down the
side of it was parked in front of the Rainbow Arts Centre.
 

“It seems weird to see a car,” Bessie
remarked.
 
“We haven’t really seen
any since Sunday.”

Doona murmured something that Bessie didn’t
quite catch.
 
Just then the door to
the building swung open and Joe Klein walked out, a scowl on his face.
 
As his eyes met Bessie’s, he at least
attempted a smile.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” he said.

“Good afternoon,” Bessie replied.
 
“I do hope everything is okay?”

“Everything is fine,” Joe assured her.
 
“We had a small problem here, but it’s
nothing to worry about.”

“Whenever people say that, I always worry,”
Bessie told him with a smile.

Joe chuckled, but it sounded forced.
 
“After what happened on Monday, I’m not
surprised you’re worried,” he said.
 
“But compared to that, this was a minor inconvenience.”

“Do you have any theories about what
happened to Charles?” Bessie had to ask.

Joe looked at Doona for a moment and then
shook his head.
 
“Not my place to be
developing theories,” he told her.
 
“Inspector Hopkins has that job and she’s welcome to it.”