Not one to drink during the day, Daphne wasted no time to sip the bubbly alcohol. It warmed her stomach. She’d not noticed how upset she was until hearing her tone change. Once she’d had a couple more sips—and didn’t the champagne go down easily—she was ready to continue.
“Since stepping onto the property yesterday, I’ve observed a lot of strange behaviour, and honestly, some quite disturbing attitudes.” She put down the glass and counted with her fingers. “Three men from one family all marrying the same woman within a few short years. And all three now deceased.”
John nodded. “That is unusual.”
“Quite. None of the groom’s family in attendance.”
“Families can be difficult.”
“The groom himself was very rude to his bride during the vows.”
“Not a good start to a marriage.” John said.
“The bride’s grandfather told me I was…immoral marrying them.”
“Oh, love.” John frowned. “What a dreadful comment.”
“He did apologise later. Poor old soul seems to have dementia so I can’t hold a grudge.”
“You are the sweetest woman I know.”
His words helped. They always did.
“Mind you, there was a lot of drinking going on before and after the ceremony. Which might have led to Steve slipping and falling into the pool.” Daphne pressed her lips together.
“But you don’t think it was an accident.”
She didn’t.
Police officers made their way to the pool, where paramedics were zipping Steve’s body into a bag. Lisa was sobbing again, surrounded by her friends. Bob and Margaret stood back, silent. Bertie was nowhere to be seen again. Hopefully not another disappearance.
“Something strange happened. I was on my way to the street to wait for you and went past the caterer’s van, surprising a waiter.” Daphne said.
“Go on.”
“He had wet patches on his shirt. And sleeves. And he was putting on a fresh apron.”
“You think he got wet pushing Steve into the pool?” John asked.
She finished the glass of bubbles, surprised it was gone already.
“Should I get another?”
“Goodness, no thanks, John, you’d have to carry me out of here.”
The paramedics pushed the stretcher out of the pool area, followed at a distance by Lisa and her friends. Her parents were with the police but Bob, arms folded and face set, watched the body of his ten-minute son-in-law wheel away.
“And that’s another thing. According to Lisa, her father used to tell her she’d never keep a husband. Apparently as a child she became bored with friends and toys easily.”
John looked in the direction Daphne discretely pointed. “That’s her father and mother?”
“It is.”
“Do you think he’d kill his daughter’s new husband?”
“He needs to be on the list.”
“List?”
“Suspects, John. I am keeping track up here,” she tapped the side of her head. “Although it might pay to write it all down.”
He gave her a slight smile. “Anyone else?”
“At least two more. Her mother didn’t like Steve and she really wasn’t happy yesterday about hosting another wedding.”
“Not really a motive to kill someone.”
“Tip of the iceberg, love. Tip of the iceberg. There’s always more lurking beneath the snippets they let slip. And of course the obvious suspect is Lisa although I don’t believe she did it.”
“Bit odd to kill her new husband off only minutes after saying ‘I do’.” John glanced over Daphne’s shoulder. “Think the police are heading our way.”
Daphne scanned the reception area. The waiter was missing. He might be simply helping pack things away. Or he might have done a runner. She should have taken a photo of him the instant he became a suspect.
Suspicions Ignored
John didn’t know what to do. Not knowing what to do was a worry. In a lifetime as owner and principal of River’s End Real Estate, he’d encountered all kinds of folk and a myriad of situations. In the past couple of years, he and Daphne even had to deal with their house being broken into and treasured items destroyed by a fiend who was part of a conspiracy by a shady land developer. Despite all the turmoil, he’d always been able to keep a handle on his emotions, keep a cool head, and be there for Daphne.
This was different. As he sat at the table in a beautiful garden on a warm spring afternoon with his wife and a police officer, the situation was surreal. Daphne had been uncharacteristically nervous when he’d dropped her here. Perhaps nervous wasn’t the right word. Uneasy. She had good instincts and was an excellent judge of character and today she’d been uneasy.
With good cause, so it turned out. Everywhere in view, people were in a daze. Some stood in small groups, others sat at tables or on the grass. Few spoke. The laughter and happiness expected at a wedding reception was non-existent. A second ambulance had arrived and one paramedic was checking Lisa while the other spoke to each guest to see if any of them needed assistance. What a dreadful way to end a wedding.
“Mrs Jones, we wanted a word, given your unique position as an outside observer.” The young constable opposite John kept an eye on those around them, some who’d moved closer as though to listen in when he’d joined them.
“Of course, Constable McIntyre. And I have some information.”
He took out a notepad. “Information?”
Now it was Daphne who gazed from group to group as if judging whether it was safe to speak. “I saw someone acting suspiciously earlier. A waiter.”
“Suspiciously?”
She nodded. “He was in the catering van changing aprons. I noticed his shirt was wet in places, and his sleeves.”
Constable McIntyre didn’t write anything down. He stared at Daphne as she continued.
“This was a few minutes before Steve was found. He’d have had time to push Steve in and get changed. I assume poor Steve hit his head on the way in.”
“The coroner will determine the cause of death in due course. This may well have been an unfortunate accident. Did you observe any odd behaviour from Mr Tanning prior to his death?”
“I’ve only met him twice. Both times he was unpleasant in the regard that he spoke before thinking. Whether that is true of him always, you’d need to ask someone better acquainted with him, but you tell me…is it odd to make a comment during your vows that you expect your wife to die before you due to her age?”
“Can’t say.”
“Going back to the waiter, I really think—”
“I’ll look into it. What other observations do you have of the events of today?”
Daphne wasn’t happy. The way she pressed her lips together was a giveaway to anyone who knew her. And John did. He reached a hand under the table and squeezed her leg and the corners of her mouth softened.
“There were a number of people unhappy with the couple getting married. Lots of people drinking too much before and right after the ceremony. And at least five suspects. Likely more once I’ve had a chance to catch my breath.”
“I’d rather you don’t look for suspects. That’s our job. May I have your contact details?”
Through almost gritted teeth, Daphne told them where they were staying and exchanged her business card for one with his details.
The constable stood. “We’ll be in touch if there is a need for a statement. How long do you plan on staying in Little Bridges?” He directed this to John, who also stood.
“For as long as Daphne wants to be here.”
“Right. Well, thanks.”
With that, the constable headed for Margaret and Bob. The latter had changed into dry clothes but his hair was still damp and sticking up at odd angles.
“John?”
Daphne’s voice was strained and he immediately held his hand out.
“Can we leave now?”
“We certainly can.” John helped her
to her feet. Her face was pale and when they made their way to the front of the house, her arm in his, her steps were slow. He’d make sure she had a rest and some tea and even some of the packaged biscuits he’d bought on his way back to Bluebell earlier. She wouldn’t mind for once.
The caterers were packing up, the back doors of the van open. Daphne tugged at John’s arm.
“Let’s wait a minute.” They were a few metres away, between a row of bigger vehicles.
“Why, love?”
Two of the staff loaded glasses, plates and the like into the van. They finished and headed back towards the house, leaving the doors open.
In an instant, Daphne was off, scrambling into the back of the van. She was rummaging around before John knew what was happening. “Daph!”
She didn’t listen and was in the depths of the van by the time he caught up. “What are you doing? You’ll get caught.”
“Then be a lookout.”
A sudden bubble of laughter rose in his chest and he had to force it down. This was his girl at her finest. Following her instincts.
John turned to face the house. He’d give her time to do whatever it was she needed to do. After the couple of days she’d had, she deserved this chance. Daphne always did the right thing and he would back her one hundred percent.
“Anything?” He whispered over his shoulder.
“Hmm.”
A procession of vehicles turned into the street. Four or five cars, one after another. Over at the house the paramedics were packing up their ambulances.
“My, oh my!”
“What?”
Silence again.
The cars slowed and one by one, pulled over to park. From the first car, four people emerged. A man and woman about his and Daphne’s age, plus two young men. All wore an air of disbelief, of panic, and moved quickly towards the house.
“Um, Daph?”
“Almost done.”
“Think Steve’s family are here.”
The catering staff headed directly towards them.
“Daph, get out. They’re coming back.”
“Almost done.”
“I’m serious. You have to get out.”
John took matters into his own hands. He made a beeline for the caterers, who between them were carrying a couple of tables. They squeezed through the cars and he blocked the way.
“Excuse me. Do you happen to know…um, where a nice place is in town for dinner?”
They stopped and stared at him as if looking at a crazy person.
“We’re just passing through…for the wedding. Thought we’d go out tonight.”
The first one went to push past and John stepped in front of him. “Whoops, sorry. Meant to go the other way. So, no suggestions?”
“Oh, there you are, John. Shall we go?”
Thank goodness.
John let them pass. The second person grinned and said, “Bell’s Bistro. Most of us work there. Just off the main street.”
Daphne appeared from around the end of a car and grabbed John’s arm.
“Let’s go.” She whispered, tugging at him. He got the message. She’d found something important. They hurried away from the van, from the house, passing a long procession of people from the newly arrived cars.
“I need to speak to the constable again.” She whispered.
“Looks like he’ll have his hands full for a bit.”
John ushered Daphne into the car just as Bob and Margaret and some of the other guests came around the side of the house to meet the newcomers head on. Everyone stopped for a second. Two seconds. And then the yelling and pushing began.
“What’s happening?”
John closed her door and ran for his. Throwing himself in, he locked the car and started the engine.
“The other side have arrived and there’s going to be a fight.”
“Should we help?” Daphne craned her neck to catch a glimpse as John turned the car.
“Police are there.”
“But I think we—”
“We, my love, are leaving. Enough of these people and this madness. I need you safe.”
Bluebell’s Blessings
Daphne didn’t say a word all the way home. Her mind raced and a little bit of her heart broke. She’d wed those two and they’d not even enjoyed one day of married life. Her throat was tight and she knew if she spoke about them she would cry. John had been wonderful during the brief discussion with the constable who’d not believed a word she’d said. And he’d had her back when she’d got in the van.
“Here we are, love,” John parked the car beside the caravan. “Time for you to have a shower while I make a nice cup of tea.”
With a quick nod, Daphne climbed out and when John unlocked the door, was quick to climb the couple of steps to the cool and inviting interior of Bluebell. For a minute she paused in the kitchen, hands on the counter and eyes closed. Quiet. She could breathe again.
The boot of the car closed. John must be bringing her jacket and bag. Not ready to talk, Daphne closed herself in the cosy bathroom and stripped off. First stop tomorrow would be to locate a dry cleaner. She needed her clothes fresh again. No lingering smell of chlorine or…death.
The young constable didn’t want her involved and he was right. She shouldn’t interfere in police work. What she thought she’d seen was in her imagination, over-active from the shock.
She gulped.
Shower on, Daphne stepped under the water. The caravan carried its own supply so showers were normally short, but here, being hooked up at the site, she could afford the extra time to wash her hair and clean off the makeup and dirt and any trace of blood on her hand.
It isn’t fair.
Not the way she’d been treated.
Or how Steve spoke to his bride during the vows.
The family arguing beforehand.
A young man’s life cut short.
The perfect ceremony forever ruined.
Tears poured down her cheeks and she let out a sob. None of it was fair.
Twenty minutes later, Daphne emerged from the bedroom in a short sleeved, floral blouse and soft, half-length pants. Pretty, cool, and comfortable to wear. She’d partly dried her hair then stopped to peer in the mirror.
“Are those greys?”
Holding up a strand, she almost bumped her nose on the glass trying to see.
“Time for a new highlight colour. What about bright blue?”
She’d normally straighten her curls but was in no mood to bother. Let them curl. There was no sign of her earlier tears under a light application of makeup.
“There you are, doll.” John was in the kitchen. “Shall we have tea in here? I’ve got it ready.”
“Let’s. Nice and cool inside.” Daphne slid behind the table.
The table was booth-style, big enough for four diners. There was a plate of packaged chocolate biscuits in the centre and although Daphne disapproved of John’s love of them, for once she didn’t care to mention it. In fact, for once she was going to enjoy eating one. Or three.
They chatted over the first cup of tea about everything other than today. The weather, how pleasant the location was, and whether to go out for dinner or get take away.
“I’d really like to go out, if you feel like it.” Daphne eyed off another biscuit. “Being somewhere happy, where people are laughing and happy would be nice.”
“Agree. Did you want to try the bistro the waiter mentioned?”
“Didn’t he say that’s where most of them work? Maybe another night, John. Less reminder of what happened today.”
“We’ll go for a walk around town then and see what appeals. Do you care to share what you were doing in the catering van?”
“Oh! I almost forgot about it. I’ll get my phone.” She wiggled out. “I must have left it in my pants pocket.”
Sure enough, it was in the laundry hamper.
“Sorry I dived into the catering van without a word.” Back in her seat, Daphne tapped on the gallery. �
��Had to take the chance while nobody was there.”
“Chance to do what?”
“Look for evidence, of course.”
“Of course.”
“I know Constable McDon’t-get-involved wasn’t going to believe me so I got some proof.” She handed the phone to John. “There’s about ten photos. Tell me what you see.”
The third chocolate biscuit made it to her mouth as John inspected the images, zooming in and scrolling from one to another.
“This one looks like a rolled up piece of cloth. Tablecloth?”
“Negatory. If you look closer you’ll see a name tag.”
John opened the case of his reading glasses and put them on, then enlarged the image. “I see it. Lloyd? So, an apron, not a tablecloth.”
Daphne couldn’t help smiling. “Yes! And it looks wet to me. See how part of it is darker than the rest?”
“You think this belonged to the waiter you surprised.”
“I do indeed.”
John grinned across the table. “Clever cookie. What about this photo?” He turned the camera. “What’s that tub?”
In the corner of the van, almost hidden behind folded table and chairs, a white tub about the size of a large paint tin was pushed to the back.
“No idea. Cleaning stuff? Anyway, I thought it worth recording. The police officer thought I was a nosy old woman.”
“Doll, no.” John took her hand and squeezed. “He would have had a hundred things to worry about. Arriving to what looked like an accident but all those guests and family standing around and perhaps a homicide. Probably didn’t know where to start.”
Unconvinced, Daphne nodded. She knew what she knew. She just didn’t know how to help. But the police had to see these photos.
“I’ll quickly call the constable and let him know.”
“Good idea. Then, how about we shelve all of this for now? Would you like to know what I got up to while you were at the wedding?”
The way John’s eyes lit up warmed Daphne’s heart. He was so sweet, trying to distract her and excited about his news. She squeezed his hand back.
Till Daph Do Us Part Page 4
