by P R Ellis
Jasmine Frame, in another case following on from Painted Ladies and Bodies By Design
A country house hotel
A death
Ten suspects
Jasmine Frame has a weekend to identify the killer before the attendees of the Butterfly Ball disperse. She must pretend to enjoy the strange activities of the Wedding Belles, but, with her gender reassignment still some way off she is uncomfortable confined with a party of transvestites.
Nevertheless, she relishes a mystery.
What drove a member of the group to kill and are they prepared to kill again?
Praise for the Jasmine Frame stories
“Jasmine Frame is a complex and sympathetic character.”
NetGalley.com
“P.R.Ellis has done a good job of creating a story with a good mystery element that also allows the reader to be educated”
Lizlovesbooks.com
“(Painted Ladies) is a really well written thriller,”
Goodreads
“(Bodies by Design) is an excellent crime novel with a twist. The exploration of gender identity is superbly well handled”
Bridget Arreger
“(Discovering Jasmine is a) very dramatic account of the life of a trans-sexual person”
E. Guyver
ALSO BY P R ELLIS
JASMINE FRAME STORIES
NOVELS :
PAINTED LADIES
BODIES BY DESIGN
NOVELLAS :
DISCOVERING JASMINE
MURDER IN DOUBT
BY PETER R ELLIS
EVIL ABOVE THE STARS
VOL.1 : SEVENTH CHILD
VOL.2 : THE POWER OF SEVEN
VOL.3 : UNITY OF SEVEN
The Brides’ Club Murder
The 3rd Jasmine Frame novel
P R Ellis
The Brides’ Club Murder
First published in Great Britain by Ellifont, 2017
Copyright © P R Ellis, 2017. All rights reserved
The right of P R Ellis to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.
Ellifont, Woodside House, Bridge Street, Leominster HR6 8DZ
www.ellifont.wordpress.com
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 978-0-9933647-4-7 Print edition
ISBN 978-0-9933647-5-4 eBook edition
Condition of Sale
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
This book is copyright under the Berne Convention.
Converted to eBook format by Alnpete PrePress
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and events are either a product of the author’s fertile imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places or people (living or dead) is purely coincidental.
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
to Lou – forever and always
1
‘Good afternoon. I’m Vernon Vokins. I have a reservation.’ Vernon’s booming voice alerted the receptionist while he was still some feet from her, as he intended. Reaching the desk, he released the handle of the case he had been towing and used all of his six foot three inches to loom over the young woman. She looked up and gave Vernon a welcoming smile.
‘Welcome to Ashmore Lodge, Mr Vokins,’ she glanced at the screen hidden below the reception desk, ‘You have the suite in the Pang Wing booked.’
‘I should hope so,’ Vernon said, ‘and I trust all the preparations have been made for our weekend activities.’
‘I am sure the Manager, Mr Adams, has everything under control, Mr Vokins.’
‘I will ensure that he does. This is a very special occasion.’
‘The Ashmore Lodge is very experienced with special occasions, Mr Vokins.’
Vernon glared at the woman, wondering if she was being insolent. Deciding not to upbraid her, he took the pen she offered him and signed the registration card on the desk.
‘Ah, Vernon, you’ve arrived.’
Vernon turned his head to see a buxom woman in a flowery dress and shoulder-length, shiny black hair approaching him. He put down the pen and held out his hand.
‘Belinda. Pleased to see that you’re on the ball as always.’ Vernon’s hand received a powerful squeeze.
‘Well, as I’m no distance away I like to be here to welcome our guests.’
‘Of course. You have always been the perfect host, Belinda.’
‘How about your journey, Vernon. Not too exasperating I hope.’
‘The train was six minutes late, but one has come to expect that these days.’
Belinda gave Vernon a sympathetic look.
‘Well, you’re here in good time. Some of the girls have arrived but I haven’t see any of your group yet.’
‘Good. They were told not to arrive before two so I could get here first and check arrangements.’
‘Ah yes, Vernon. You’ll want to make certain everything is tip-top, especially as you have a real wedding as part of this year’s programme.’
Vernon felt a stab of annoyance at the thought that the official ceremony should take precedence.
‘Hmm. Yes. Well, that is an exception. Is your good wife here as usual?’
‘Oh, yes. Taking advantage of the calm before the storm to have a swim. Now I had better get on. I want to make sure the ballroom is ready. Shall we meet to go over things?’
Vernon glanced at his watch. ‘How about four-thirty. I should have completed my transformation by then.’
‘Very well. Four-thirty it is.’ Belinda swept off towards the doors into the ballroom. Vernon turned back to the receptionist who was holding out a plastic card.
‘Here is your key, Mr Vokins.’
‘That’s a card.’
‘We’ve gone electronic since your last visit. You just need to hold the key close to the sensor beneath the handle of the door, it will let you into your room. If you do the same as you leave it will lock.’
Vernon took the card from the girl and looked at it suspiciously. ‘I’m not sure what’s wrong with old-fashioned keys. I hope this thing works.’
‘We haven’t had any problems,’ the young woman said.
‘Hmph. You’ll be the first person to hear if there are.’ Vernon reached dow
n for the handle of his case and turned away from the desk. He noticed a slim woman in a pale blue skirt and jacket coming through the doors dragging a scuffed suitcase. She paused, straightened up and flicked her highlighted brown hair out of her eyes. Vernon recognised her. His upper lip wrinkled in annoyance.
‘Nolan. You’re here early. It’s only just two.’ Vernon said.
‘I’ll say I’m early,’ Samantha Nolan replied with a male, Irish voice. ‘Want to get my money’s worth out of this weekend. Cash is a bit tight since my wife threw me out. But you know all about that, don’t you.’ There was a quiver of emotion in Samantha’s voice.
‘How your wife and you resolve your problems is your affair.’ Vernon replied and turned towards the doors leading to the Pang Wing.
‘If only you had thought that before you told her I was a TV.’ The retort resounded across the vestibule but Vernon ignored it. He passed through the swing doors into the conference wing and stood at the lift. The doors slid open immediately and he entered, pulling in his case beside him. The lift rose one floor and he emerged onto a corridor with five doors in a line. The entrance to Vernon’s room or rather, suite, was at the end of the corridor. He fumbled the keycard until it was facing the plate of the door lock. A decisive thunk announced that the lock had released, causing Vernon mild surprise. The door swung open at a touch of the handle and he entered the sitting room of the apartment. He dropped the keycard on the table by the entrance and pushed the door closed. The thick-pile carpet required that he give his case a more determined tug. All but ignoring the view of the hotel entrance out of the window to his left, he went straight into the considerably larger bedroom which looked onto the ornamental garden.
Vernon’s eyes scanned the room for any imperfection but could not see anything that wasn’t satisfactory. He laid the case on the rack provided for that purpose beside the wardrobe and took a key from the pocket of his tweed jacket. He unlocked and opened the case. There on the top, carefully folded and protected by a clear, plastic cover was a white dress, a wedding dress. Vernon lifted it up, held it against himself and examined it carefully, checking for any unwanted creases. Satisfied, he carried it to the wardrobe and slid open the mirrored doors, taking care not to trip over the trailing hem. He hung the dress on the rail. He returned to the case for two more dresses which he hung alongside the wedding dress and added a jacket and cardigan which he placed on the hotel’s hangers. Next, he emptied the case of shoes in their boxes, stockings, knickers, suspender belt, corset, bras, night dress, dressing gown, jewellery box, large cosmetic bag, toilet bag and a long, blonde wig, all of which he laid out neatly on the bed. He opened the jewellery box, took out a lady’s watch and placed it and the box on the bedside table. The underclothes he separated and placed each item in one of the drawers of the dressing table ensuring each was carefully folded. Then he sorted out the toiletries and cosmetics. Some were placed on the dressing table. The rest he took into the bathroom and placed some by the washbasin and others beside the bath making sure that each jar, bottle and tube was positioned so as not to fall to the floor.
Now he was ready to begin to undress. The brown Oxford shoes, tweed jacket and twill trousers were folded neatly and laid in the case followed by his shirt, vest, pants and socks and the watch from his wrist. He pulled the fluffy, pink dressing gown over his naked body and closed the case. He straightened up and took a few deep breaths, already feeling a little more at ease. The cases were stored out of the way. He glanced at the watch he had placed beside the bed. It was now almost two-forty-five.
He returned to his lounge carrying a slim briefcase. He sat in an armchair, opened the case and took out a sheaf of papers. He read carefully through each page detailing the programme for the next two days, minute by minute. There were some other sheets that he read after completing the programme. These were his notes on the guests. His facial expression varied as he read from satisfaction to distaste.
A glance at the clock conveniently situated on the wall confirmed that time was passing and there was none to be wasted. He returned to the bedroom, picked up the toilet bag and proceeded into the spacious bathroom. The sight of the large bath gave him his second feeling of pleasure, the wedding dress having been the first. He opened the taps and steaming hot water gushed out. While the bath filled he opened the toilet bag again and took out two razors, one for his face and the other for his body, and placed them along with jars of bath salts and cleansers on the shelf beside the bath. One bottle he took up and tipped a few drops of rose essence into the filling bath.
Satisfied, at last, with the temperature and depth of the water, Vernon turned off the taps. He returned to the bedroom and was just loosening the belt on his gown when he heard a tap on the door to the suite.
He growled and muttered, ‘If that is Belinda, she is far too early.’ He pulled the belt tight again and walked into the sitting room and towards the door. He pulled it open.
‘Oh, hello,’ he said, ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you just yet.’
2
The receptionist, Camilla Boyce, Milly to her friends but not her colleagues, listened to the exchange between Vernon Vokins and Samantha Nolan with interest. This weekend’s conference promised her some exciting people watching.
Once Samantha had bellowed her defiance at the departing Vokins she approached the desk. Camilla put on her welcoming smile and said, ‘Good afternoon, Miss Nolan. Can I help you?’
‘Oh, thank you, yes. I have a room booked. It’s in the name of Patrick Nolan.’
‘Of course.’ Camilla already had the details up on her screen. She wondered whether there would be any guests checking in today that she would be unable to tell if they were really male or female. ‘You’re in the Pang Wing, with Mr Vokins.’
‘I expected that. I suppose all of us are together.’
Mr Adams, the Manager, had briefed Camilla and the other staff on what to expect this weekend so she knew exactly who was doing what and where.
‘That’s right. Members of the wedding party are in the Pang Wing and the other ladies are in the Kennet and Lambourn wings. Please sign the registration form.’ She held out the pen. Samantha signed.
‘You’re in room five, Miss Nolan,’ Camilla said retrieving the pen. ‘That’s next to Mr Vokins. I hope that is alright for you.’
‘At least there will be a wall to keep us apart.’ Samantha chuckled. ‘But I’m not going to let Valerie Vokins spoil this weekend. Thank you.’
Camilla held out the keycard and glanced at her screen. ‘I see you are sharing with Mr. Walsh. Is that correct?’
Samantha took the keycard. ‘Tammy. That’s right. Just like Valerie to put both of us immigrants together.’ She stooped to reach the handle of her case.
Belinda emerged from the ballroom.
‘Hello. It’s Samantha, isn’t it? You’re with the wedding group?’ Belinda approached with her hand reaching out to be shaken.
‘That’s right. Um, Belinda?’ Samantha held Belinda’s hand limply in hers.
‘That’s it. I don’t think I’ve seen you arrive en femme before.’
Samantha laughed. ‘I’m amazed that you remember things like that.’
‘Oh, I have a good memory for all the girls.’
‘Well, since Jill chucked me out I don’t have to hide anymore. That’s one good result I suppose. So I took the opportunity to drive here as Samantha. A whole weekend of being female. Bliss!’
Belinda clapped her hands. ‘Excellent. Well enjoy it all. Oh, there are more of the girls arriving. I think the rush is about to start.’
Camilla watched as Belinda hurried to welcome the taxi-load of women, or men dressed as women (she had fun guessing which were which) that were coming through the main doors. Nolan departed into the Pang Wing. Soon Camilla had no time for her guessing games as the queue to sign in grew. Mr Adams came to join her to speed up the process. Belinda fussed around welcoming each guest as they stepped into the vestibule.
The new arrivals were sent off to the main Kennet and Lambourn wings. Then a man and woman approached the desk and gave their name as Preston.
‘Ah, you’re for the Pang Wing, room 2,’ Camilla said, reading her screen.
‘We’re with the Wedding Belles,’ Mr. Preston said in a quiet voice.
‘That’s what it says here,’ Camilla said offering the registration card and pen. As Mr Preston signed for himself and his wife, two men approached the desk.
‘Well, look here. It’s our treasurer, Donna,’ said the taller and slimmer of the two. Matthew “Donna” Preston appeared to duck as he turned to face the newcomers.
‘Oh, it’s you, Freddie,’ he said to the speaker, and added to his companion, ‘Hello, Robbie.’
‘And Emma,’ Freddie said stooping to kiss the short, plump Mrs Preston on both cheeks. ‘Thought you’d be off to the Bahamas with the loot from this weekend, Donna.’ Freddie added, clapping Matthew on his back. Matthew went visibly pale.
‘Why do say that?’
‘Given the cost of this weekend you must be taking a rake off,’ Freddie said, ‘Just joking, Donna. Don’t look so worried.’
Matthew recovered somewhat and took the pair of keycards that Camilla held in her hand. He picked up their two cases and ushered Emma towards the Pang Wing.
‘See you both soon, Donna, Emma,’ Freddie called.
‘I don’t think, Donna appreciated that joke,’ Robbie said to his partner.
