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Authors: Diana Xarissa

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BOOK: Aunt Bessie's Holiday
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“Doona doesn’t know who sent the envelope?”

“She said she thought it was Herbert Howe,”
Bessie replied.
 

“Why did she think that?”

“I don’t know,” Bessie said with a
frown.
 
“You’d have to ask her.”

“If it was Herbert Howe, that certainly
makes him more likely as a suspect,” Andrew said.

“Has anyone admitted to knowing about
Doona?” Bessie asked.

“It’s a good thing I’m retired,” Andrew
replied with a chuckle.
 
“And I’m
only repeating what I’ve heard secondhand through miscellaneous
connections.
 
If I were still
working for the police, I could get fired for discussing an active
investigation.”

“So has anyone admitted to knowing about
Doona?” Bessie repeated herself.

“Mai suspected, because she wrote out the
place cards for the welcome reception,” Andrew told her.
 
“And Monique said she knew because she
and Charles were good friends and he confided in her.”

“How good of friends were they?” Bessie
asked.

Andrew shrugged.
 
“She said Charles was like a big brother
to her.
 
She and Nathan had been
having trouble and Charles provided a shoulder for her to cry on.”

“Hmm,” Bessie murmured.

“Other than that, apparently Charles told
everyone that you two were coming and were very important people, but nothing
further.”

“I find it hard to believe that Charles
never told Lawrence, his business partner, about his wife,” Bessie said.

“And yet, as I understand it, Doona didn’t
know anything about Lawrence, either,” Andrew countered.

“What about Harold?” Bessie asked.

“He said he and Charles had a decent working
relationship, but never discussed their private lives.
 
As Charles took Harold’s job and was
highly vocal in his criticism of how the park was run when Harold was in charge,
I can’t imagine they spoke much at all.”

“So why did Harold stay?”

“He started working here right out of
university,” Andrew replied.
 
“Over
the years, he worked his way from being an assistant in guest services all the
way up to site manager.
 
He’s never
worked anywhere else.”

“Why didn’t Charles fire him, then?”

“I can only tell you what I’ve inferred from
things that have and haven’t been said,” Andrew said.
 
“I suspect Harold knows too much to be
let go.”

“About running the park?”

“About any number of things,” was Andrew’s
cryptic reply.

“Have we left anyone out?” Bessie asked,
thinking back through their conversation.

“Nathan Beck wasn’t happy with the changes
Charles was making in suppliers, from what I understand,” Andrew replied.

“He seems to have quite a quick temper,”
Bessie said.
 
“Maybe he didn’t
approve of Monique’s friendship with Charles, either.”

“But there’s nothing to suggest that he knew
anything about Doona,” Andrew said.

“Maybe the killer just happened across the
knife while walking across the grass or something,” Bessie suggested.

“It would be a pretty big coincidence, he or
she just happening to find a knife on the patio of the property where the
victim’s wife was staying,” Andrew said.
 
“Anything is possible, of course, but it seems highly unlikely.”

“I suppose,” Bessie replied.
 
“Are there any other suspects?”

“I think we’ve covered the main ones,”
Andrew replied.
 
“One of the reasons
they aren’t looking too closely at the huge number of other guests is the
connection to Doona.
 
I do hope that
doesn’t turn out to be a coincidence.
 
Margaret can’t keep everyone here until she finds the killer.”

“Tomorrow is an arrival and departure day,
isn’t it?” Bessie asked.
 
“We’re
booked through the weekend, but not everyone will be.
 
Is Margaret making anyone stay?”

“As I understand it, no, but then most of
the main suspects are employees.
 
Jessica and Herbert are booked through the end of the month.
 
I gather as an investor he gets special
rates.”

“It doesn’t seem as if we’ve made any
progress,” Bessie complained as they finished their circuit of the lake and
arrived back where they’d started from.

“There is one other suspect we haven’t
mentioned,” Andrew said after a moment.

“Who?” Bessie demanded.

“Well, you, of course,” Andrew replied.

Bessie took a step backwards, feeling
stunned.
 
For a moment she felt
angry with the man.
 
She forced
herself to count to ten before she replied.

“I’ve managed to live into my late middle
age without ever feeling the need to kill anyone,” she said steadily.
 
“And you can be sure that if I ever did
decide I needed to do so, I would do it in such a way that I would never be a
suspect.”

Andrew looked at her for a moment and then
he laughed.
 
“You’re right, of
course,” he said after a while.
 
“You’re much too smart to use a knife from your own kitchen, especially
in the middle of all those restaurants.
 
There were dozens of knives for the killer to choose from.
 
The only reason to use the one from your
cabin was to frame someone.”

“Surely all the knives in the various
restaurants were locked up for the night,” Bessie replied.
 
“Not that I’m trying to incriminate
myself or anything,” she added hastily.

“I had a long talk with Joe Klein about just
that,” Andrew said.
 
“All of the
restaurants on the site are owned by Lakeview, including everything in the food
hall.
 
That means they only have a
single locking door between the public areas and the staff areas where you can
access all of the kitchens.
 
Any
member of staff with a master key could have opened the door, and Joe said it
was often left unlocked during the day to let staff get in and out easily.
 
There’s no way to tell if it was locked
or not on the night of the murder, but as nearly all of the suspects have master
keys or access to them, it doesn’t really matter.”

“Did Joe know who Doona is?” Bessie asked,
realising they hadn’t discussed the security head.

“He told me he didn’t,” Andrew replied.
 
“I get the feeling he wasn’t involved in
the day-to-day running of the place in any way.”

“Except for providing all of the security.”

“Well, yes, but I don’t think Charles took
that very seriously.”

“Maybe he should have,” Bessie said dryly.

“Indeed.”

They’d been standing still for several
minutes.
 
Now Bessie moved over to
the nearest bench and sat down.

“It doesn’t seem as if we’ve worked out
anything,” she said grumpily.

“No, it doesn’t,”
Andrew
agreed as he sat down next to her.
 
“I have to tell you that I’m quite enjoying the mental exercise.
 
Retirement doesn’t really agree with
me.
 
But I don’t suppose that makes
you feel much better about your friend.”

“No, it really doesn’t,”
Bessie
told him sharply.

He flushed.
 
“I’m trying to do everything I can on
her behalf,” he said.
 
“But I have
to be careful not to get in the way of the official investigation.”

“So you really don’t think Doona did it?”
Bessie checked.

“No, for much the same reasons I don’t think
you did it,” Andrew replied.
 
“Even
if she snuck out of your cabin intending to kill Charles, I can’t see her
taking that particular knife with her.
 
And if she did, I think she’d be smart enough to have removed the knife
from the crime scene.
 
She could
have thrown it in one of the lakes and I doubt anyone would have ever found
it.”

“But the killer left it there to incriminate
Doona,” Bessie said.
 
“Surely
Margaret Hopkins must be thinking the same way you are.
 
She must know Doona’s being framed.”

“But she still has to investigate every
lead,” Andrew said in a soothing tone.
 
“Doona had motive, means and opportunity, after all.”

Bessie nodded reluctantly.
 
“How long will she keep Doona, do you
think?”

“I suspect Doona is doing her best to
cooperate with Margaret,” Andrew replied.
 
“Which means she won’t be insisting on being allowed to leave.
 
Under the circumstances, Margaret might
be keeping her for her own safety as well.”

“What do you mean?” Bessie demanded.

“More than one killer has tried to cover his
or her tracks by killing another suspect and trying to make it look like
suicide,” Andrew said.
 
“This killer
has already tried to frame Doona.
 
That suggests a certain animosity towards her, at least to my mind.”

Bessie shook her head.
 
“Talking to you isn’t making me feel any
better,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” Andrew replied, sounding
sincere.
 
Before he could continue,
Bessie heard voices calling his name.
 
They both stood up and Bessie only just spotted the quick grimace that
flashed over Andrew’s face before he smiled at the group that now descended
upon them.

“Time for breakfast,” a young man said
heartily.

“Hungry,” a small child chirped from the
middle of the group.

“You all start for the Squirrel’s Drey and
I’ll meet you there in a minute,” Andrew suggested.

A middle-aged woman frowned, giving Bessie a
cold look.
 
She opened her mouth to
speak, but it looked as if Andrew caught her eye, causing her to change her
mind.
 
Instead, she spun on her heel
and began to walk away.
 
The others
followed, chatting loudly amongst themselves.

“I’m sorry I didn’t introduce you to
anyone,” Andrew said as he watched them leaving.
 
“It just seemed too much like hard
work.”

Bessie laughed.
 
“I rather agree with you,” she
said.
 
“I’d never remember them all,
anyway.
 
There are far too many of
them.”

“I’ll have to try to arrange a meal with you
and one or two of them at a time,” he replied.
 
“They’re all good people, just a bit
overwhelming when taken as a group.”

“You’d better go,” Bessie told him.
 
“I’d hate for them to come back looking
for you.”

He smiled at her and then gave her a quick
hug.
 
“Let’s have dinner, just the
two of us,” he suggested.
 
“We can
talk more about the case.
 
Who
knows, maybe Margaret will solve it between now and then.”

“My friend John Rockwell, from the Isle of
Man Constabulary, is meant to be coming over some time today,” Bessie
replied.
 
“If he’s here, we should
include him in dinner.”

“Of course,” Andrew agreed quickly.
 
“And Doona as well, if she’s back,” he
added.

“Six o’clock at our cabin?” Bessie
asked.
 
“We can have something
delivered for however many people there are.”

“Excellent,” he said.
 
“In the meantime, just remember:
 
the good guys always win the end.”

Bessie found herself smiling again as she
watched the man walk away.
 
He was
charming and kind and she was glad they’d met, even under such difficult
circumstances.

She glanced at her watch and frowned.
 
It was still rather early in the morning
and she had no idea what to do with the rest of her day.
 
She felt as if she was simply waiting
around to see what was going to happen next, which wasn’t a good feeling.
 

As she’d skipped breakfast in favour of the
walk, she headed back into the cabin to get something to eat.
 
She put some bread in the toaster and
drank a glass of orange juice while she waited it for it to pop.
 
She was just washing up her dishes when
her mobile phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Bessie, it’s Doona,” a tired voice said.

“Are you okay?” Bessie asked, letting every
bit of the concern she was feeling into her tone.

“I’m fine, just tired,” was Doona’s
reply.
 
“The inspector thought I
might like to ring you in case you were worried about me.”

BOOK: Aunt Bessie's Holiday
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