Aunt Bessie Finds (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 6) (10 page)

“Just a few weeks,” he said, as he slowed down for a curve.
 
“I’m still learning my way around.”

“What brought you here?” Bessie figured he’d asked enough nosy
questions about her; it was only fair she asked a few of her own.

“Grant Robertson offered me the job of running his new estate
agency.
 
I’d done some work for him
in my previous position and he was, well, happy with my performance.”

“What made him decide to open an estate agency?” Bessie asked.

“I can only tell you what he told me,” he replied.
 
“He said there are a lot of people
moving across at the moment and the three agencies already on the island have
had a virtual monopoly for years.
 
He wanted a chance to cash in on the sudden rush of new arrivals.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Bessie said thoughtfully.
 
“But I’m surprised he didn’t hire a local
person to run the agency, just to take advantage of local knowledge.”

“I’m a quick learner,” the man replied, smugly.

Bessie repeated the directions she’d given him as they approached
Laxey
.
 
He
missed the turning for her road and she had to take him around a few back roads
until they could join back up with the steep incline that took her home.
 
Alan was looking a bit pale when he
pulled into the parking area beside Bessie’s cottage.

“That’s some hill,” he said, sounding anxious.
 
“I’m just glad we didn’t meet anyone
trying to come up it.”

Bessie laughed.
 
“There
are passing places,” she told him.
 
“You just have to be quite careful.”

“Rather.”

Bessie climbed out of the car and headed towards her door.
 
Alan was quick to follow.
 

“Your views are incredible,” he said, as he surveyed the quiet
beach.

“They are,” Bessie agreed.
 
“You can see why I’m reluctant to move.”

“I don’t suppose I can bother you for a cup of tea?” he asked.
 
“I’d love to see the inside of the cottage
and I’m quite parched as well.”

“Certainly,” Bessie said politely.
 
She wanted to refuse, but couldn’t
possibly be that deliberately rude.

She opened her door and escorted the man into her small
kitchen.
 
“Have a seat,” she told
him, gesturing towards the small table in the corner.

He crossed to it and sat down while Bessie filled the kettle.
 
After she switched it on, she busied
herself putting biscuits on a plate and slowly getting the tea things ready.
 
The kettle boiled while she was still
busy filling time.
 
She poured the
hot water into her teapot and set it on the table.
 

Alan waited politely for her sit down and
pour
tea for them both.
 
Then he gave her
a smile.

“So, how serious are you about moving?” he asked.
 
“I mean, I look around this kitchen and
I can see why something modern would be tempting, but then I look out at your
view and I wonder if I’ve wasted my morning.”

Bessie forced herself to smile back.
 
“Exactly,” she said.
 
“There are sound reasons for moving and
for staying here.
 
I’m going to take
a good look at the details on each place and have a good think.
 
I’ll probably chat to a few friends as
well, to get their thoughts.
 
I may
well surprise us both.”

Alan nodded and sipped his tea.
 
“Well, today has been interesting,” he
said.
 
“To be honest, the only flat
I can actually see you being interested in is the one on the promenade.
 
Seaview
Terrace was too small and the views were obstructed, and the flat in
Onchan
was facing the wrong way.”

“As I said, I’m going to give all my options very serious thought,”
Bessie replied noncommittally.

“Before you make any final decisions, there are several other flats
that I can show you,” he said.
 
“Maybe you’d like to look at a few on Wednesday or Thursday?
 
I can set up a few more places now that
we’ve met and I have a better idea of what you’re looking for.”

“Thank you, but for now I’d just like to consider what I’ve already
seen,” Bessie told him.
 
“I’ll be in
touch if I need anything.”

Alan nodded.
  
“I’ll ring you in a few days, then, just to touch base.”

Bessie decided not to argue.
 
She rarely answered her phone, preferring to let the machine pick up and
letting the caller leave a message that she could return or not as she chose.
 
Chances of her returning calls from Alan
Collins were slim.

“Thank you for the tea,” he said now, as he stood up to go.
 
Bessie watched as his eyes darted around
the room.
 
He was clearly eager to
see the rest of the cottage, but she wasn’t about to offer to show him.
 
“Are you sure you don’t want a quick
valuation on this property?” he asked.

“I’m quite sure,” Bessie said, meanly smiling to herself as she saw
the disappointment in his eyes.
 

Bessie showed him out and shut the door behind him.
 
She leaned against it, counting slowly
to a hundred before pulling it open slowly.
 
His car was gone and Bessie sighed with
relief.
 
She hated lying and
subterfuge and the morning had been a strain for that reason as much as for the
difficulty of spending so much time with a man she disliked.

She sat back down at her table and poured herself another cup of
tea.
 
Her mind was racing as she ran
back through her morning.
 
The phone
took her by surprise and she stared at it while the machine picked up.

“Bessie?
 
It’s
Bahey.
 
I hate machines.
 
Ring me back, please.”

Bahey hung up before Bessie managed to pick up the call.
 
Bessie quickly
dialled
her friend’s number.

“Bahey, sorry, I was just sitting here, lost in thought,” she told
the other woman.

“I’d love to hear about your morning,” Bahey said.
 
“But first I have a question for you.”

“Go ahead,” Bessie replied.

“Who was the man you were with when you came out of the building
after the fire alarm went off?” Bahey asked.

“The man in the ugly brown suit?” Bessie asked.
 
“That was Alan Collins from Island
Choice Properties, why?”

“It was just strange, that’s all,” Bahey said.
 

“What was strange?” Bessie demanded.

“I guess it’s another odd thing about this place,” Bahey said after
a moment.
 
“The lift keeps having
these little mechanical fires,” she told Bessie.

“One of your
neighbours
mentioned that
you’ve been having them fairly regularly,” Bessie told her.
 
“It certainly made the flat seem less
desirable.”

“But that’s just it,” Bahey exclaimed.
 
“Every time we’ve had one of these lift
fires, that man you were with today has been in the crowd when we’ve come out
of the building.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Bessie said.
 
“He said he doesn’t know anyone in the
building, so the only reason he would have for being there is if he was showing
the empty flat.
 
How many times has
the lift had a fire?”

“Maybe six or seven,” Bahey said.
 
“I haven’t always been home, but Bertie,
across the hall, always tells me about them.
 
He watches a lot of daytime
telly
and he gets quite annoyed when something interrupts
it.”

“So you weren’t there to see Alan Collins every time,” Bessie
suggested.

“No, but Bertie has been.
 
He told me after the last one that from then on, if he saw the man in
the brown suit coming in the building, he was going to set up his VCR to record
the
programme
he was watching.
 
He was quite pleased with himself today
when it worked.”

“And the lift has never had any problems when Alan Collins wasn’t
there?” Bessie asked.

“Oh, it has problems all the time,” Bahey told her.
 
“But it only has fires when Alan Collins
comes around.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, although it does go a long way
towards explaining why no one has made an offer on the flat,” Bessie mused.

“I don’t understand,” Bahey said.
 

“I don’t either, but it seems to me as if someone is trying to
discourage people from buying that flat.”

Chapter Five

Bessie told Bahey about the three flats she’d seen, and they spent
a few minutes discussing Alan Collins as well.
 
By the end of the phone call, Bessie
didn’t feel any closer to understanding what was going on in the building on
Seaview
Terrace.
 
She fixed herself a quick lunch and then rang Doona.

“Are you free for dinner?” she asked her friend.

“I am, indeed,” Doona replied.
 
“Shall I bring a pizza?”

“That sounds good,” Bessie said.
 
“I’ll make some shortbread, I think.”

“Yummy,” Doona said with a laugh.

The afternoon passed quickly as Bessie mixed up and baked a batch
of shortbread before curling up with a new book.
 
She was quickly lost in the collection
of short mystery and detective stories, all written by female writers.
 
After the third story, she stopped to
collect paper and a pencil, carefully writing down the names of two of the authors
of the stories she had just read.
 
She’d never heard of either of them before, but she’d enjoyed both of
their stories and she’d be looking for more by both of them on her next trip
into Ramsey.

Doona arrived just as Bessie finished another of the short stories.
 
She sighed as she headed for the
door.
 
This book was going to end up
costing her a fortune, as she’d liked everything she’d read so far and many of
the authors were new to her.
 
She
welcomed Doona with a quick hug, reaching around the pizza box to do so.

“I’ve had a very strange day,” Bessie told her friend.
 
“I’m hoping that talking it through with
you will help me make sense of it.”

Doona laughed.
 
“Maybe
we need a bottle of wine as well?” she suggested.
 

“I think I need to keep a clear head,” Bessie replied.

She quickly pulled down plates and the pair sat down with their
pizza.
 

“This is really good,” Bessie said after a few bites.
 
“Where did it come from?”

Doona named a small restaurant that Bessie knew well.
 
“They’ve just started featuring
‘American-style’ pizza for take-away,” Doona told her.
 
“They left a whole bunch of flyers and
coupons at the station and the young constables have been raving about it.”

“I can see why,” Bessie said, grabbing a second slice.
 

“So, what was Alan Collins like in person?” Doona asked.

Bessie thought about her reply for a moment.
 
“Sort of strange and creepy and also a little
sad,” she replied.

“Sad?”

“Well, I think he’s really trying to do his job,” Bessie
explained.
 
“But it seems like his
efforts are being sabotaged, at least at
Seaview
Terrace.”

“Okay, tell me the whole story,” Doona demanded.

Bessie gave her every detail she could remember about her visit to
the flat on
Seaview
Terrace.

“Mr. Collins, who insisted I call him Alan, by the way, got off on
the wrong foot by mistaking me for the manager’s mother, but beyond that he
tried really hard to sell me on all of the flats.”

“But with the door propped open and then the fire in the lift, you
weren’t tempted?” Doona said teasingly.

“I wasn’t tempted,” Bessie agreed.
 
“Until I talked to Bahey this
afternoon.”

“What did Bahey say to change your mind?”

“It seems the fires in the lift mechanism always seem to coincide
with Alan Collins being in the building,” Bessie told her.

“Sorry, do you think he’s setting the lift on fire for some
reason?” Doona asked, her expression confused.

“No, I think someone else is trying to discourage prospective
buyers from buying that flat,” Bessie said.

“But why?” Doona demanded.

“That’s a very good question,” Bessie replied.
 
“I haven’t the foggiest idea.”

“You can’t be seriously considering moving to Douglas,” Doona told
her.

“No, not really, but I am tempted to pretend to be,” Bessie
replied.
 
“It might be quite
interesting to see what would happen if I made an offer on that flat.”

Doona shook her head.
 
“Maybe you should talk to John,” she suggested.
 
“Maybe the police should investigate.”

“Investigate what?” Bessie asked.
 
“Besides, John works in
Laxey
, not Douglas.
 
Douglas is out of his jurisdiction.”

“And he’s not on the island at the moment, either,” Doona said with
a sigh.

“He’s not?” Bessie asked.

“He’s across in Manchester with his wife and kids,” Doona told
her.
 
“He’s taken a fortnight’s
holiday.”

“I suppose he’s earned it,” Bessie said.
 
“Who’s in charge in
Laxey
,
then?”

“Inspector Kelly is covering for him,” Doona told her.
 
“And I have to say, I didn’t miss the
man.”

Bessie laughed.
 
Inspector
Kelly had been
Doona’s
supervisor for a while, before
John Rockwell was assigned to the
Laxey
station.
 

“Two weeks isn’t that long,” Bessie told Doona.
 
“Although somehow the island doesn’t
feel quite the same without John here.”

“You’ve only known that he’s gone for a minute,” Doona said with a
laugh.

Bessie laughed at herself.
 
“I know; I’m being rather silly.
 
Still, it’s nice for him to get away.”

“Yes,” Doona said slowly.

“And what’s behind that?” Bessie asked.

“I don’t know.
 
He
certainly didn’t seem to be looking forward to it and when I asked him what all
they were going to be doing during the fortnight, he was vague and didn’t want
to talk about it.”

Bessie frowned.
 
“I hope
everything is okay,” she said.
 
“I
really hate the thought of him moving back across.”

“As do I,” Doona said with a sigh.

Over tea and generous servings of crumbly shortbread, Bessie told
Doona about the other two flats she’d seen in Douglas.
 

“The one on the promenade sounds temping,” Doona told her.

“But too expensive,” Bessie replied.
 
“Even if I did want to move to Douglas,
I couldn’t afford anything that grand.”

“But you don’t really want to move to Douglas, right?”

Bessie sighed.
 
“I don’t
really want to move, but I am curious as to what’s going on at
Seaview
Terrace.
 
I guess I’m a little bit worried about Bahey as well.
 
It certainly seems like something odd is
going on.”

“Maybe you should go and see Pete Corkill,” Doona suggested.

“I might,” Bessie said.
 
“But first I might try making an offer to just see what happens.
 
On the other hand, I’ve been thinking
about a change of scenery.
 
Maybe a
holiday in Douglas, at one of the hotels near Seaside Terrace, would be a good
idea.”

Bessie was almost as surprised as Doona by the thought.
 
She hadn’t
realised
that she’d been considering Douglas rather than Derbyshire for her holiday, but
once she’d made the comment, she could see a lot of merit in the idea.
 
She and Doona talked about that as well
as several other things until it was rather later than either had planned.

Doona went home with a large container of shortbread, leaving the
last two slices of pizza with Bessie.

“That’s more than a fair trade,” she insisted.
 

Bessie put her lunch for the next day into the refrigerator and
headed to bed.
 
She had a lot on her
mind, but she still fell asleep quickly and slept well.

On Tuesday she did a few chores around the cottage, vacuuming the
rooms upstairs and dusting every room.
 
When she’d first moved into the cottage, she’d stuck to a very specific
routine with cleaning and laundry and the like, but after a short while she’d
decided that such a routine was too much like work.
 

Ever since, she’d cleaned when she felt like it, trying to do a
little bit each day so the job never got too big.
 
She did laundry when she needed to and
the only thing she scheduled regularly was her big weekly grocery shop in
Ramsey.
 
Since she had to arrange a
taxi for that, it was easier to have a standing appointment.

At half one her taxi arrived to take her into Ramsey for tea with
Mary Quayle.
 
Because she hadn’t
booked in advance, her usual driver wasn’t available, but the man who collected
her was perfectly adequate.
 
He
wasn’t chatty on the short drive, which suited Bessie today as she was trying
to work out what she wanted to ask Mary.

Mary was already settled at a small table in the corner when Bessie
walked into the small café.
 

“Ah, good afternoon, Bessie,” Mary said, giving Bessie a shy smile.

“Hello, Mary.
 
It’s good
to see you again,” Bessie replied, sliding into the seat opposite her friend.

Mary was a tiny woman with grey hair that was nearly always kept in
an immaculate bun.
 
She was always
expensively dressed but never seemed to be flaunting her wealth.
 
The only
jewellery
she wore was her thin gold wedding band.
 
She was at least a few years younger than her sixty-something husband,
but she looked older and somewhat fragile.

The waiter bustled over and took their order.
 
The restaurant
offered
“Hot tea, served with a selection of bite-sized cakes and biscuits,” and both
women agreed that it was exactly what they wanted.
 
Once he was gone, Bessie reached over
and patted Mary’s hand.

“How are you, my dear?” she asked, feeling slightly concerned by
how tired the other woman looked today.

“I’m fine,” Mary replied automatically.

Bessie frowned at her.
 
“Of course you are,” she said.
 
“But how are you, really?”

Mary chuckled, although there was no
humour
in it.
 
“You always read me so
well,” she replied.
 
“I’m okay,
really, just a bit tired.”

Bessie didn’t want to pry, even though it was obvious that
something was bothering her friend.
 
“How are the children?” she asked.

“They’re all good,” Mary replied.
 
“
Georgie
, or
rather, George, Junior, and his wife have invited me to join them on their
holiday in Portugal at the end of the month.
 
I’m sure they’re only taking me so that
they have someone to watch the kids, but I don’t mind in the slightest.
 
I love my grandchildren and I’ll take any
chance I can get to spend time with them.”

“I’m sure Portugal will be lovely,” Bessie said.

“I went with them last year as well,” Mary told her.
 
“They’d only just had the baby, and they
really needed the extra help.
 
Although I suppose with a six-year-old and a one-year-old, they still
really need extra help.”

“Will George be going as well?”

“Oh, good heavens, no,” Mary said, shaking her head.
 
“He’d go crazy sitting on a beach for a
fortnight and he doesn’t really have a lot of patience with the grandchildren,
either.
 
No, he’ll stay here and
pretend to be retired while working sixty hours a week, just like normal.”

Bessie pressed her lips together while she struggled to find an
appropriate reply.
 
“What a shame he
doesn’t enjoy the grandchildren,” she said finally.

“Yes, well, he found our three quite hard work when they were
small, as well,” Mary said in a confiding tone.
 
“He gets along with them better now that
they’re all adults, of course.”

“How are Michael and Elizabeth, then?” Bessie asked.

“Michael is well.
 
His
little one is turning into quite the handful and the doctors are beginning to
suggest he might be autistic or something, which is, of course, worrying for
Michael and Jenny.”

“And for you,” Bessie suggested.

“Oh, yes, he’s such a lovely little lad most of the time, but he
does have some rather, well, interesting
behavioural
issues.”
 
She shook her head.
 
“And they have another baby on the way,
which is wonderful, but also an additional source of stress.”