Aunt Bessie Joins (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 10) (8 page)

“As far as I know, there’s only one ghost in
Castle
Rushen
and she haunts the throne room,” Bessie
told her.

Mary shivered.
 
“I can’t help but feel as if poor
Christopher Hart is haunting the castle now,” she said.
 
“I think I would, if I were him.”

“I think, if I were able to come back as a
ghost, I’d haunt somewhere lovely and warm, like the French Riviera,” Bessie
said.
 
“I’d much rather watch people
enjoying themselves than skulk around an old castle that’s cold and damp.”

Mary laughed.
 
“I wonder if ghosts get a choice,” she
said thoughtfully.

“If I get a chance, I’ll let you know,”
Bessie said, laughing.

“Oh, I do hope we get a choice and we can
haunt people together,” Mary said.
 
“I think I’d like to haunt a few houses and scare one or two people who
have been quite terrible to George and myself after all the unpleasantness.”

George’s former business partner had
recently disappeared, taking a large amount of stolen money with him.
 
While George had been cleared of any
wrongdoing in the matter, there was a small segment of the island’s population
who were now avoiding the couple.
 
As George was a lively and gregarious man who thrived on social
interaction, he was struggling to accept a quieter lifestyle.
 
Mary was very shy, and Bessie had no
doubt that she didn’t miss their formerly active social life even the tiniest
bit.
 
But Mary loved her husband
enormously and Bessie wasn’t surprised that the woman resented the way he was
being treated.

“Let’s go to the French Riviera instead,”
Bessie said.
 
“Or maybe somewhere
exciting, like New York City or Paris.”

“I’ve never been to New York,” Mary said
thoughtfully.
 
“I suppose that could
be fun.”

“But how are you?” Bessie changed the
subject.
 
“Not too upset by Mr.
Hart’s untimely death, I hope.”

“Oh, I’m okay,”
Mary
replied.
 
“I barely knew the man and
I didn’t much like him, although that’s a terrible thing to say.”

“I didn’t like him, either,” Bessie told
her.
 
“He didn’t try to be
likeable.”

“No, I suppose not,”
Mary
agreed.
 
“Anyway, aside from talking
to the police, which always makes me nervous even though I’ve not done anything
wrong, I’m just fine.”

“Good.
 
I know some of the volunteers are a little upset,” Bessie said.
 
“I’m going to try to speak to them all
today.”

“That’s good of you.
 
I’m sure none of them could be involved
in Mr. Hart’s death, though.
 
What
possible reason could anyone on the island have for wanting him dead?”

Bessie shrugged.
 
“That’s for the police to work out,” she
said firmly.
 

“Of course it is,” Mary agreed.

“I do hope I’m not late,” Marjorie said from
the doorway.

“Not at all,” Bessie assured her.
 
“Mark still hasn’t made his way up here
yet and I’ve no idea where Carolyn is.”

“She’ll be running late,”
Marjorie
said with a laugh.
 
“She always is.”

Bessie nodded.
 
Carolyn was nearly always the last to
arrive for their committee meetings.
 

“I’m just going to ring George,” Mary
said.
 
“He’s meant to be bringing
Natasha down in a little while.
 
I
don’t want him to forget.”

She walked to the far end of the room to
make her call, leaving Bessie with Marjorie.

“So, how are you?” Bessie asked her friend.

“I’m fine.
 
How are you?
 
Is it awful being caught up in another
murder investigation?”

“It isn’t pleasant,” Bessie admitted.
 
“But it is starting to feel rather
routine.”

“I was up half the night, thinking about
Christopher Hart,” Marjorie said.
 
“I tried to sleep, but I couldn’t.
 
I just can’t help but wonder who could have killed him.
 
I can’t seem to work out a motive.”

“He wasn’t a very nice man,” Bessie
remarked.

“No, but lots of people aren’t very nice and
no one kills them,” Marjorie said.
 

“Maybe someone followed him from across,”
Bessie suggested.
 
“I’d like to
think that his death has nothing to do with anyone I know, anyway.”

“Oh, I hope you’re right.
 
I’m looking forward to Friday and the
big grand opening.
 
I really think
this event is exactly what the island needs at Christmas.
 
It should be perfect for families, young
couples, grandparents, everyone, really.”

Bessie laughed.
 
“I hope it lives up to your
expectations,” she said.

Before Marjorie could reply, Mark walked
into the room.
 
Mary ended her call
and joined the others before Mark spoke.

“Carolyn just rang,” he said, frowning.
 
“Something has come up and she’s asked
us to postpone the committee meeting until one o’clock this afternoon.
 
Is that okay with everyone?”

“It doesn’t matter to me.
 
I was planning to be here all day,
anyway,” Bessie replied.

“So was I,” Mary said.
 
“Natasha is coming down soon and we were
going to work with everyone on the last finishing touches.”

“I have to run back up to Douglas for a
meeting,” Marjorie said.
 
“But I can
be back for one, or a little after.”

“Great, thanks, everyone,” Mark said.
 
“I’ll be in the office downstairs going
over ticket sales and other paperwork if anyone needs me.”

Marjorie disappeared behind Mark, and Mary
was quickly
back
on her phone.
 
That left Bessie free to start trying to
find everyone so that she could speak to
them
.
 
She headed towards the nearest decorated
room.
 
Michael was standing in the
centre
of it with his back to Bessie, talking on his
mobile.

“I’d love to come for an interview after the
holidays,” Bessie heard.
 
“I have
family in
Cumbria
, so it’s probably my first choice
for relocating.”

Bessie took a few steps backwards and then
stomped heavily into the room.
 
Michael spun around and flushed when he saw her there.

“I’ll check my calendar and ring you back in
an hour or so,” he said into the phone.
 
“Thank you again.”

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,”
Bessie said brightly.

“No, not really,” Michael muttered.
 
He glanced down at the phone and then
shook his head.
 
“You heard that,
didn’t you?”

“I’m sorry, yes.”

“I hope you won’t think too badly of me,
wanting to leave the island,” he said.
 
“I just feel as if I’ve done all I can here.”

“You’ve only been here three months,” Bessie
pointed out.

“Yes, but
it’s
such
a small island.
 
There simply isn’t
any real opportunity for career advancement.
 
I didn’t do enough research into the
island before I moved over.
 
It’s a
nice enough place to live, but it’s a little bit, well, boring, if you’re young
and single.”

“Does the board of directors at the
Alzheimer’s Research Fund know you’re job-hunting?” Bessie asked.

Michael flushed.
 
“Not yet,” he said.
 
“I’ve only really just started looking
in the last few days and I’ll only leave it the perfect job turns up, so I
didn’t mention it yet.”

“I hope none of this has anything to do with
Mr. Hart’s death,” Bessie said.

“No, of course not,” Michael replied very
quickly.

Bessie raised an eyebrow.
 
“Really?”

“Oh, I can’t say it isn’t upsetting,”
Michael said.
 
“I’ve never been
tangled up in a murder investigation before, after all, but I’m really just
concerned with my career, nothing else.”

“And you’ve no idea who might have killed
Mr. Hart?” Bessie asked.

“The more I think about it, the more I’m
sure you were right,” he told Bessie.
 
“He must have been blackmailing someone and they must have finally had
enough.
 
In a way, whoever killed
him did me a
favour
, actually, as I might have
trouble finding another position if word did get out that I’d punched him.”

“Well, I wish you luck,” Bessie said.
 
“But we’ll be sorry to lose you.
 
I know you’ve raised a lot of money in
the short time you’ve been here.”

“That’s my job,” Michael replied.

Bessie nodded and then made her way through
his room and into the corridor beyond.
 
She felt uneasy about Michael’s sudden desire to leave the island, but
his explanation made sense.
 
The
board at the Alzheimer’s Research Fund wouldn’t be happy.
 
Bessie knew it had taken them nearly six
months to find Michael.
 
They
wouldn’t be eager to start looking for a replacement so soon.

Bessie was pleased to find Liz hard at work
in her room.
 
“I do hope you’re not
changing much,” she told the girl as she walked in.
 
“I loved this room just the way it was.”

“Just moving a few things around like
Natasha suggested,” Liz told her.
 
“She’s going to be bringing a few things with her today to make the room
look more festive, as well.
 
Mr.
Hart was right about that; it doesn’t feel very Christmas-like in here.”

“I’ll look forward to seeing what Natasha
has come up with,” Bessie said.
 
She
had a quick chat with the woman, who insisted that she wasn’t upset about the
murder.

“Someone from London or somewhere like that
must have come over and killed him,” Liz insisted.
 
“I’m sure he had a great many
enemies.
 
He seemed like the type.”
 
Bessie left Liz happily rearranging the
oversized toy box.
 

The castle felt very quiet this morning and
Bessie found herself wandering into the courtyard.
 
While she would never have chosen mauve
Christmas decorations for the space, she had to admit they looked good against
the
stone walls
.
 
Noticing movement in the ticket booth, Bessie headed there.

“Good morning, Laura,” she said to the woman
who was sitting behind the desk, which was covered in tickets and envelopes.

“Good morning,” she replied, smiling at
Bessie.
 
“I don’t suppose you’ve
come to help?”

“What are you doing?”

“Posting out tickets.
 
It seems, with everything else going on,
that that little job has been rather neglected.
 
We’re okay for Friday and Saturday this
week, but I don’t think any of the tickets for Sunday have been posted yet, and
we’ve sold quite a lot.
 
I’m afraid
to look at the list for Christmas Eve.”

“I’ll come back and help later,” Bessie
promised.
 
“After I’ve checked in on
everyone.”

“Is everything okay?” Laura asked.

“As far as I know, everything’s fine,”
Bessie assured her.
 
“But Mark was
worried that some people might be upset about Mr. Hart’s death, that’s all.”

“I think we’re all upset about that.
 
I thought about taking a few days off,
you know, just to avoid the whole thing.”

“We just have to hope the police sort it out
quickly,” Bessie said, patting the woman’s hand.
 
“Inspector
Corkill
is very good at his job.
 
I’m sure
he’ll work out what happened soon.”

“I hope so.
 
I hate feeling as if I’m a suspect.”

“We’re all suspects,” Bessie told her.
 
“I’m sure you and I are quite low on the
list, though.
 
I wonder who is
highest on that list.”

“I’m sure it must be someone we don’t know,”
Laura said.
 
“I’m sure Mr. Hart had
lots of enemies.
 
Someone must have
snuck over from across just to kill him, don’t you think?”