time are
you meeting Samantha at the Laxey Wheel?” he asked Bessie.
“One o’clock,” Bessie
answered. “I’m not sure why she
picked there, but I guess there are worst places to meet.”
“All those stairs,” Doona
said with a frown. “I’m not sure I
like the idea of you climbing all those stairs and being so far off the ground
with a murder suspect.”
Bessie laughed. “I’ll be perfectly fine. After all my years on this earth, I
think I’m a pretty good judge of character. If that girl was going to kill anyone,
it would be Vikky, not her boyfriend’s brother, and certainly not me.”
“I have to say I have some
sympathy for her there,” Doona answered. “Vikky was already at the station when the rest of the family showed up
and she literally fell into Donny’s arms. I’ll bet Miss Samantha’s nose has been out of joint ever since.”
A knock on the door surprised
them all. Bessie
got up to answer it, followed closely by Hugh . When she reached the door, she turned to
look at him, hovering only inches behind her.
“For goodness’ sake,” she
whispered, “go and sit down. I
don’t want you scaring some poor ten-year-old who just got told off for not
doing his homework.”
“If I were sure it was a
ten-year-old, I would be happy to sit down,” Hugh hissed back as the person on
the other side of the door tapped again.
Bessie glared at Hugh, and he
took half a step backwards. She
shook her head and sighed deeply, but he refused to retreat further. Neither of them was expecting Inspector
Rockwell on the other side of the door.
“Inspector?” Bessie knew the
greeting sounded more like a question that a welcome and quickly corrected
herself. “This is a surprise, but
please, do come in,” she offered.
The Inspector stepped into
the cottage and looked around the kitchen. If he was surprised to see Doona and Hugh there, it didn’t show on his
face.
“We were just going to have
some tea and fortune cookies,” Bessie told him as she pushed the cottage door
shut. “Please join us.”
“That’s very kind of you,”
the man replied, taking the few steps to the table and sitting at an empty place.
Hugh had returned to the
table while Bessie and his boss were talking; now he settled back into the seat
he had left earlier. Doona quickly
cleared away the rest of the debris from their meal, passing Bessie the
unopened box full of fortune cookies.
Bessie started the kettle and
then put the cookies onto a plate. She added a few different varieties from her own stocks and then put the
plate in the middle of the table. Everyone sat silently as they waited for the kettle to boil and for
Bessie to make the tea.
Once everyone had their drink
and their choice of treat, Bessie sank down into her chair and smiled
tentatively at her new arrival.
“So what brings you here
tonight, Inspector?” she asked, trying to make the request sound conversational
rather than nervous.
Inspector Rockwell smiled at
her. “Everywhere I go in Laxey,
everyone tells me the same thing. If you want to know the skeet up here, talk to Aunt Bessie.”
Bessie nodded; she couldn’t
possibly argue with that.
“So I want the skeet,” the man
continued. “Who’s the most likely
suspect in Daniel Pierce’s murder? Who do most people think did it?”
Bessie took a long sip of her
tea as she gathered her thoughts. She was probably foolish to feel flattered that he was asking, but the
feeling was still there. She
exchanged looks with Doona and Hugh, both of whom looked uneasy.
“I haven’t had much chance to
talk to people since I found the body,” Bessie prevaricated. “And the ones I have talked to have been
more interested in hearing about my experience than in speculating who might
have killed the poor man.”
“But you must have heard some
conjecture,” Inspector Rockwell pressed her gently. “This is all off the record, by
you meeting Samantha at the Laxey Wheel?” he asked Bessie.
“One o’clock,” Bessie
answered. “I’m not sure why she
picked there, but I guess there are worst places to meet.”
“All those stairs,” Doona
said with a frown. “I’m not sure I
like the idea of you climbing all those stairs and being so far off the ground
with a murder suspect.”
Bessie laughed. “I’ll be perfectly fine. After all my years on this earth, I
think I’m a pretty good judge of character. If that girl was going to kill anyone,
it would be Vikky, not her boyfriend’s brother, and certainly not me.”
“I have to say I have some
sympathy for her there,” Doona answered. “Vikky was already at the station when the rest of the family showed up
and she literally fell into Donny’s arms. I’ll bet Miss Samantha’s nose has been out of joint ever since.”
A knock on the door surprised
them all. Bessie
got up to answer it, followed closely by Hugh . When she reached the door, she turned to
look at him, hovering only inches behind her.
“For goodness’ sake,” she
whispered, “go and sit down. I
don’t want you scaring some poor ten-year-old who just got told off for not
doing his homework.”
“If I were sure it was a
ten-year-old, I would be happy to sit down,” Hugh hissed back as the person on
the other side of the door tapped again.
Bessie glared at Hugh, and he
took half a step backwards. She
shook her head and sighed deeply, but he refused to retreat further. Neither of them was expecting Inspector
Rockwell on the other side of the door.
“Inspector?” Bessie knew the
greeting sounded more like a question that a welcome and quickly corrected
herself. “This is a surprise, but
please, do come in,” she offered.
The Inspector stepped into
the cottage and looked around the kitchen. If he was surprised to see Doona and Hugh there, it didn’t show on his
face.
“We were just going to have
some tea and fortune cookies,” Bessie told him as she pushed the cottage door
shut. “Please join us.”
“That’s very kind of you,”
the man replied, taking the few steps to the table and sitting at an empty place.
Hugh had returned to the
table while Bessie and his boss were talking; now he settled back into the seat
he had left earlier. Doona quickly
cleared away the rest of the debris from their meal, passing Bessie the
unopened box full of fortune cookies.
Bessie started the kettle and
then put the cookies onto a plate. She added a few different varieties from her own stocks and then put the
plate in the middle of the table. Everyone sat silently as they waited for the kettle to boil and for
Bessie to make the tea.
Once everyone had their drink
and their choice of treat, Bessie sank down into her chair and smiled
tentatively at her new arrival.
“So what brings you here
tonight, Inspector?” she asked, trying to make the request sound conversational
rather than nervous.
Inspector Rockwell smiled at
her. “Everywhere I go in Laxey,
everyone tells me the same thing. If you want to know the skeet up here, talk to Aunt Bessie.”
Bessie nodded; she couldn’t
possibly argue with that.
“So I want the skeet,” the man
continued. “Who’s the most likely
suspect in Daniel Pierce’s murder? Who do most people think did it?”
Bessie took a long sip of her
tea as she gathered her thoughts. She was probably foolish to feel flattered that he was asking, but the
feeling was still there. She
exchanged looks with Doona and Hugh, both of whom looked uneasy.
“I haven’t had much chance to
talk to people since I found the body,” Bessie prevaricated. “And the ones I have talked to have been
more interested in hearing about my experience than in speculating who might
have killed the poor man.”
“But you must have heard some
conjecture,” Inspector Rockwell pressed her gently. “This is all off the record, by
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