Aunt Bessie Goes (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 7) (16 page)

“You are
kidding, right?” Fiona drawled.
 
“I
mean we aren’t going to open the door and find a dead rabbit or something, are
we?”

“At the moment
I don’t know what we’re going to find,” John told her.
 
“I’m hoping it’s just a rabbit.”

He muttered
the last sentence as they walked and Bessie was pretty sure she was the only
one who heard it.
 
As soon as the
words registered, her heart skipped a beat.
 
She hoped she’d misunderstood the man,
but the look on his face when they reached the unit suggested otherwise.

“I have the
key here somewhere,” Mary said.
 
“You’re right, that is a terrible smell.”

“I feel quite
ill,” Fiona said, stepping backwards quickly.
 
“I can’t possibly work in that unit.”

“Why don’t you
go back to your car and wait there?” John suggested quietly.

“Maybe I’ll
just do that,” Fiona answered.
 
She
took a couple of steps away and then turned back.
 
Bessie could see curiosity burning in
her eyes.
 
Fiona was too nosy to
wait in the car, Bessie thought.

Mary found the
key that was
labelled
as being for unit six and she
inserted it into the padlock.
 
She
twisted it and frowned.
 
“It doesn’t
seem to be working,” she said softly.

John took the
key from her and tried himself, but it was no use.
 
While they struggled with the door,
Bessie walked to the next unit and back.

“That lock is
different,” she pointed out.

“What do you
mean?” John asked.

“The lock on
this unit is different to all the others in the row,” Bessie explained.

“It shouldn’t
be,” Mary told them.
 
“We bought a
set of six padlocks when we reserved the first unit.
 
I figured we’d need them all
eventually.”

John walked
quickly along the entire row and then back again.
 
“It’s definitely not the same lock as
the other five,” he told Mary.
 
“I
have bolt cutters in my car that should be able to cut through the lock.
 
Do I have your permission to do so?”

“Of course you
do,” Mary replied.
 
“I’ll ring
someone and have them bring up a new lock right away.”

John jogged
back to his car and returned a moment later with cutters.
 
It took him a moment, but eventually he
managed to cut through the hasp of the padlock.
 
He took it off the door carefully,
placing the pieces into a plastic bag.
 
He wrote something on the bag and then dropped it in a pocket.
 

“What’s he
doing?” Fiona hissed loudly.

Bessie
exchanged glances with Mary, but they were both far too
focussed
on John to answer the girl.

John pushed up
on the rolling door, but nothing happened.
 
He pushed again and then frowned.
 
“It seems to be stuck,” he said.
 
“I’m not sure I want to force it, as I’m
not sure what’s behind it.”

“If you’re
worried about breaking some of the furniture, don’t be,” Mary told him.
 
“I promise I won’t hold you responsible
for any damages.”

John nodded and
then gave the door a strong shove upwards.
 
It rose, slowly at first and then quite quickly once it was free of
obstructions.
 
A large wardrobe that
had apparently fallen against the door now toppled out towards them.

Bessie and
Mary both jumped backwards, although they were nowhere near enough to actually
need to do so.
 
Fiona gasped and
then pointed.

“What’s that?”
she asked, her finger shaking.

Bessie looked
at the ground where the wardrobe had ended up.
 
The doors had swung open as it fell, so
that it was lying propped up on what were now partially broken doors.
 
What looked like a person’s leg was
sticking out from between the doors, bent at an impossible angle.
 
Fiona began to scream as John pulled out
his mobile and began to bark out orders.

Chapter
Nine

Bessie took
Mary’s arm and pulled her backwards, away from the unit.
 
Fiona kept screaming where she was
standing until Bessie grabbed her arm, somewhat less gently than she had
Mary’s.
 

“Shut up,” she
barked at the woman.
 
“That isn’t
helping in any possible way.”

Fiona looked
at her, and after a moment, shut her mouth.
 
Now Bessie could hear the low buzz of
John’s voice as he spoke on his mobile.
 
He ended a call and looked over at the three women.

“I suggest you
all go and sit in one of the cars,” he told them.
 
“You’re going to be here for a while.”

“I’m not,”
Fiona announced.
 
“I’m going back to
London right now.”

She marched
over to her hire car.
 
Bessie
watched as it took the woman three attempts to actually get the key into the
lock on the door because she was shaking so badly.
 
Eventually, she managed it and pulled
the door open.
 
She threw herself
into the driver’s seat, glancing back towards them and giving them an angry
look before started her engine.
 
She
floored the accelerator and the car weaved back and forth along the road,
narrowly missing a
lamp post
as it went.

“She’s too
upset to drive,” Bessie said to John.
 
He held up a hand and she
realised
he was on
his phone again.

“There are
local police on their way,” he told her when he disconnected.
 
“They’ll stop her before she even makes
it to the main road.
 
I’ve suggested
that they take her down to the station for questioning.
 
I’d rather not have to see her again.”

“I’m sorry,”
Mary said quietly.
 
“George hired
the firm and she was who they sent.
 
I thought she was just terrible, but apparently she’s very good at what
she does.”

“Well, they’ll
have to send someone else,”
John
said.
 
“I can’t imagine she’s going to come
back.”

“No, I guess
not,”
Mary
replied.

“But you don’t
need to
apologise
,” Bessie said.
 
“It isn’t your fault she’s horrible.”

“No, but I,
that is, well, I don’t know.”
 
Mary
threw up her hands and then walked a few steps away.
 
Bessie started to follow but stopped
when she heard sirens.
 
A few
minutes later a police car, lights flashing, turned into the storage
facility.
 
Behind the first car was
Fiona Partridge’s car with a second police vehicle behind that.

John walked
over and met the officers, who spent several minutes gesturing towards Fiona’s
car.
 
John shook his head and walked
back to Bessie and Mary.

“When she saw
the police car, apparently your Ms. Partridge stopped her car and ran
away.
 
She left her car in the
middle of the road, so they’ve brought it back up here.
 
Two men are following her now, but she
got a good head start because they were so shocked by her
behaviour
that it took them a minute to start the chase.”
 
John sighed deeply.
 
“Like a dead body wasn’t enough bother,”
he muttered, heading back to greet the next set of arrivals.

Bessie looked
over at Mary and saw that her friend was looking very pale.
 
“Let’s go and sit in your car,” she
suggested.
 
“We’ll be out of the way
and far more comfortable.”

Mary nodded
but didn’t speak.
 
She and Bessie
crossed to the car and Mary unlocked it.
 
Bessie sank down into the comfortable leather seat and sighed.
 
“What a mess,” she murmured.

“Do you think
it’s really a body?” Mary asked nervously.

“I have no
idea, but John seemed to think so and he’s something of an expert.”

“But how did a
body end up in a wardrobe in my storage unit?” Mary demanded.

“When was the
last time you opened that unit?” Bessie asked.

“I don’t
know,” Mary replied.
 
“I’m sure it
hasn’t been for months.
 
We never
got that far when we were looking for furniture for you, did we?”

Bessie thought
back to their visit the previous month.
 
“I don’t think we did,” she said after a moment.

“So it was
probably in May, when we
remodelled
the sunroom and
changed all the furniture.
 
I came
up with the movers to supervise their putting all of the old furniture in that
last unit.”

“And that
wardrobe came from the sunroom?” Bessie asked.

Mary shook her
head.
 
“I didn’t get a good look at it,
but the wardrobe didn’t look familiar.
 
I’m not sure where it came from.
 
As far as I can remember, all that was in that unit was a load of old
dining room furniture and boxes of kitchen things, before we added the sunroom
pieces.
 
There weren’t any wardrobes
in there at all.”

“But there
were plenty in the other units,” Bessie remarked.

“There were
some, certainly,” Mary said.
 
“But
that one had a thin pressboard panel back and all of ours are solid wood.
 
I really don’t think it came from one of
our units.”

Bessie was
surprised that the woman had noticed that much, but now that Mary had mentioned
it, the wardrobe that had fallen out of the unit did look to be of rather poor
quality.
 
It really didn’t look like
the sort of furniture that Mary would have ever bought.

Another police
car pulled up now.
 
The man behind
the wheel climbed out, and then opened the back of the car.
 
Bessie and Mary watched as a very
disheveled Fiona Partridge was helped from the car.
 
She was led over to Inspector Rockwell
and then, after a short conversation, another officer was called over.
 
He took Fiona’s arm and led her to a
different car.
 
After helping her
into the back of it, the officer drove away.

“I wonder
where they’re taking her,” Mary said, sounding not even a little bit curious.

“John was
pretty angry when she ran off like that,” Bessie said.
 
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s having
her taken to the local station for questioning.”

“She’s
frighteningly efficient and quite annoying,” Mary said.
 

“I’ve no doubt
you won’t have to deal with her again,” Bessie remarked.

Mary
frowned.
 
“It isn’t like me to be
critical of anyone,” she told Bessie.
 
“I have a great deal of respect for successful women, especially those
that work in male-dominated fields.
 
But Fiona is an awful mix of high-powered businesswoman and flirty
teenager.
 
She actually suggested
that she and George should meet privately to discuss things, right in front of
me.”

“I’m too old
to have ever tried flirting,” Bessie said.
 
“Nice women simply didn’t behave like that in my day.
 
I don’t think I missed out on anything.”

Mary
laughed.
 
“I don’t object to a bit
of flirting among single people, but women who flirt with married men are
something else altogether.”

“George has a
rather expansive personality.
 
A lot
of women must see that as encouragement.”

“George is a
flirt, you mean,” Mary said.
 
“He’s
very friendly with everyone he meets, but he does pour on the charm when he
meets young women.
 
It can be quite
uncomfortable to watch, although he does try to rein it in when I’m with
him.
 
It all comes from his years in
sales, of course, but that isn’t really any excuse.”

The pair
settled in and watched the comings and goings of the various officers for a
while.
 
A CID van arrived with a
crime scene team, dressed all in white.
 
The team members seemed to scatter in every direction, some taking
pictures, others seemingly studying the ground for clues.

Where they
were parked, Bessie and Mary couldn’t see exactly what was happening at the
unit, but when the ambulance arrived and a stretcher was removed from it, Mary
sighed.

“I was really
hoping it was just an old Guy Fawkes effigy or something,” she told
Bessie.
 

“I guess not,”
Bessie said.
 

They watched
in silence as the ambulance men stood by, waiting for the crime scene team to
finish processing the scene.
 
After
a few minutes Inspector Rockwell walked to Mary’s car.

“Bessie, can I
have a quick word?” he asked after Mary opened a window.
 

Bessie climbed
out of the car and joined him a few steps away from it.
 
The foul smell seemed stronger now,
although that might have been Bessie’s overactive imagination.

“They’re going
to load the body up and take it into Douglas for an autopsy,” John told
her.
 
“I’m sorry to ask this, but
could you take a quick look at it and see if you
recognise
him?”

“I’d rather
not,” Bessie said frankly.
 
“But if
you think it might help, of course I will.”

“I don’t want
to ask Mrs. Quayle,” John said.
 
“She’s of a rather delicate nature and I can’t afford a lawsuit if her
husband decides he doesn’t like the way I handled things.”

“Do you want
me to ask her for you?” Bessie asked.

“For now I’ll
settle for you having a quick look,” John replied.
 
“Hugh is back in Laxey going through all
the missing persons reports for the entire island.
 
He’s going to fax the list through to
the station here in
Jurby
when he’s sorted out all of
the possibilities.
 
It’s a small
island.
 
It shouldn’t take long to
figure out who we’ve found.”

Bessie opened
her mouth and then closed it again.
 
She knew she was jumping to conclusions and that John couldn’t afford to
do the same.

“You can wait
in the car again, if you want,” John said.
 
“It will probably be a few minutes.”

Bessie nodded
and climbed back into Mary’s car.
 
With the windows up, the smell was far less noticeable.
 
Bessie inhaled the scent of expensive
leather and sighed.
 

“Is everything
okay?” Mary asked.

“John wants me
to take a peek at the body to see if I can identify it,” Bessie told her.
 

“Oh, thank
goodness,” Mary gasped.
 
“I was
afraid he might ask me to do that, since it’s my unit.
 
I was terrified.”

Bessie patted
Mary’s hand.
 
She wasn’t looking
forward to seeing the dead man herself, but her curiosity overwhelmed her
fears.
 
She really wanted to see if
she knew the person.

“I should ring
George,” Mary suggested.
 
“He’ll
want to know what’s going on.”

“I think you
should check with John first,” Bessie said.

“There’s no
rush, I guess,” Mary replied with a shrug.
 
“He’s probably in a meeting or something anyway.”

A short time
later, John was back.
 
He helped
Bessie from the car and led her a short distance towards the ambulance.

“His face
doesn’t look too bad,” John told her.
 
“Don’t feel like you have to have a good look or anything, either.
 
Just a quick glance will do.”

“Okay,” Bessie
said, taking a deep breath.

“And I’m
interested in your impressions and thoughts as well,” John added.
 
“If you don’t
recognise
him, but you think he looks like someone or there’s something familiar about
him, let me know.
 
This isn’t a
formal statement at this point, it’s just a conversation.”

“Got it,”
Bessie murmured, her mouth feeling dry.
 

John stared
hard at her.
 
“Are you sure you’re
okay with this?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m
fine,”
Bessie
said in a shaky voice.
 
She cleared her throat and tried again,
this time almost sounding like she meant it.

John nodded
and then waved to the ambulance men.
 
They slowly pushed the stretcher towards their vehicle.
 
When they reached Bessie’s side, they
stopped and pulled the sheet down from the man’s face.
 
Bessie glanced at it and then gave it a
second, longer look.

“Can I see
what he’s wearing?” she asked John.

John had the
men pull the sheet down further and Bessie glanced at his tattered clothes.

“I think….”
she began, but John held up a hand.

“Get him out
of here,” he told the men.
 
They nodded
and pulled the sheet back over the body before loading it into the
ambulance.
 
John took Bessie’s arm
and led her a short distance away.
 
They watched the vehicle pull out before John spoke.