The Brides' Club Murder: the 3rd Jasmine Frame novel (Jasmine Frame detective)

by P R Ellis

  Was Tom questioning her femininity? Was he doubting that she shared the thought processes of real girls? She realised that in fact she had had brief desires to don a wedding dress. Twice in fact, when her sister, Holly, had married and preparing for her wedding to Angela. She remembered flashes of desire when she had seen or imagined both young women in their wedding dresses, the epitome of femininity. To be in their costumes, rather than wearing a man’s suit, as she was at the time, had been a powerful if short-lived fantasy.

  ‘Yes, OK, Tom. I have once or twice thought about it but I want it to happen for real when I’m getting hitched to a bloke I love, not as a weekend’s pastime.’

  Tom appeared to sag. ‘Alright, Jas, I understand and yes, I suppose I feel like you about it. It does all seem a bit weird but for the sake of the investigation could you do it? Please.’

  Jasmine considered. It wouldn’t have been her choice of a weekend and she wasn’t sure she could play the role required of her but it would mean being part of a murder team again. She loved the thrill of weighing up evidence, of looking for holes in suspects’ alibis, of putting clues together. All that excitement outweighed her disgust of the fake brides. A decision was made.

  ‘OK, Tom. I’ll help you out but how are we going to get me fixed up? You told me Belinda said the hotel was full and I suppose I will have to have a wedding dress. Where am I going to find one at this short notice?’

  Tom was smiling again. ‘That’s it Jas. I knew you’d be up for it. Belinda said she’d sort out accommodation for you and a story to explain your presence in the group. Sasha Patel has been on to a bridal wear shop near here that she knows. They’ve agreed to stay open if we can get there in,’ he glanced at his watch, ‘two minutes. Come on let’s go.’ He shot to his feet and grabbed Jasmine’s hand, dragging her up too.

  6

  The other shops on the High Street were closing up their shutters, locking doors and turning interior lights off but the wedding shop was still brightly lit and open. As Tom held the door for her, Jasmine could see that there were no customers inside.

  They stepped into a small showroom. A woman of about forty came through a door from the rear of the shop. Her immaculate make-up and neat hair impressed Jasmine. How did she manage to look so smart after a day’s work?

  ‘Hello. You must be Detective Sergeant Shepherd and Miss Frame,’ the woman said, smiling broadly.

  Tom stepped forward, holding out his hand which was shaken politely. ‘That’s right and you’re Mrs. Carter.’

  The woman produced a coy smile. ‘Miss. I haven’t had to go through a marriage myself yet.’

  Tom blushed. ‘Oh. Thank you for staying open for us. I think DC Patel explained what we needed.’

  ‘Yes. It was lovely to talk to Sasha again. Such an interesting wedding, partly traditional and partly Hindu. She looked so pretty in her white dress, and in a sari.’

  ‘She explained that this is very short notice and extremely confidential,’ Tom went on ignoring the digression.

  ‘Oh, yes. You need a wedding dress for Miss Frame for tomorrow.’ Miss Carter looked Jasmine up and down, estimating her vital statistics. She frowned a moment and then produced a thin smile. ‘Would you like to come through please?’

  Miss Carter lead Jasmine and Tom into the much larger rear room which had fitting rooms and alcoves with rail after rail of white dresses. There were three full length mirrors standing in the middle of the room in a triangle and comfortable chairs spread around.

  ‘Please sit down Sergeant,’ Miss Carter said, ‘and Miss Frame if you could take your coat off we’ll make a start.’

  Jasmine undid the buttons of her duffle coat and slipped it off her shoulders. She handed it to Tom who had lowered himself into one of the soft easy chairs. Then Jasmine faced the woman and watched as her eyes surveyed her.

  ‘Hmm, you have rather a boyish figure,’ Miss Carter said with a finger to her chin. Jasmine took an involuntary breath. A grunt came from Tom.

  ‘Didn’t DC Patel explain?’ he said.

  Miss Carter appeared confused. ‘Explain?’

  ‘Umm, Jasmine is…is….’

  ‘I’m transsexual. A trans-woman,’ Jasmine said in a voice slightly louder and more defiant than she intended. Miss Carter looked stunned for a moment but quickly recovered.

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you, Miss Frame.’

  Jasmine forced herself to smile although it always hurt to have to declare her status. She told a small white lie. ‘I’m difficult to embarrass. Please call me Jasmine.’

  ‘Jasmine, a lovely name. I understand now why you have broad shoulders and slim hips. I fear that our stock dresses may need a little adjustment to give you a good fit.’

  ‘Is that a problem?’ Tom asked, ‘We do need the dress for tomorrow. There’s not time to send the dress away.’

  ’I can do any alterations that are necessary, Sergeant, here. If we choose a style suited to Jasmine’s figure it won’t take me long. I am not without experience in these matters.’

  ‘You have sold wedding dresses to transwomen before?’ Jasmine said, surprised that anyone like her had made it to a wedding ceremony.

  ‘Yes. Actually, there was a lady very recently. A few inches shorter than you and with a somewhat, ah, rounder figure. Her name was Melody.’

  Tom jerked upright in his seat. ‘Melody Woods?’

  ‘That’s right. Do you know her?’ Miss Carter looked at Jasmine and Tom. Jasmine shook her head. She barely knew any other trans-people in Kintbridge or elsewhere.

  ‘Yes. She’s getting married on Sunday,’ Tom said.

  ‘That’s right. At the Ashmore Lodge,’ Miss Carter said.

  Jasmine was astounded. ‘Her wedding is part of the Butterfly Ball weekend?’

  ‘Melody Woods is one of the Wedding Belles,’ Tom explained, ‘so is her fiancé. They’re both suspects. Their wedding is part of the weekend activities that Vokins organised. Tomorrow is the big fake wedding where I guess they all dress up. Then on Sunday they’re having the real thing. You’re invited of course as one of the Belles.’

  ‘Thanks for letting me know.’

  ‘I was going to give you all the details later but we had to get here quickly. Miss Carter is staying open specially.’

  ‘Call me Wendy, please,’ Miss Carter said. Tom and Jasmine looked at her. She had been listening to their heated conversation.

  ‘Please don’t breathe a word of this to anyone,’ Tom said in his policeman’s voice. ‘I don’t know precisely what Sasha told you but we are investigating a murder at the Ashmore Lodge involving the Wedding Belles and Melody Woods is one of a large number suspects at the moment. Jasmine is going to help the enquiry by going undercover mixing with the other brides.’

  Wendy Carter nodded. ‘Don’t worry Sergeant. I fully understand. In this business, I am used to keeping arrangements confidential. Now Jasmine, we must get on with finding you a suitable dress. Do you have any ideas?’

  Jasmine shook her head. She had never given any serious thought to what wedding dress she would wear, never having expected an opportunity would arise.

  Wendy frowned as she looked at her and considered. ‘A lot of the girls go for off-the-shoulder dresses which cling to their bodies to show off their figures. Often they dispense with underwear except perhaps for the smallest G-string.’

  Jasmine felt herself blush. ‘That’s not me. I need to wear a bra and substantial knickers.’

  ‘You’ve still got, erm,…’ Wendy’s assertive voice stumbled.

  Jasmine realised she was going to have to give away her most intimate secrets. ‘I’m pre-op. I’ve had some surgery, but I’ve still got something down there,’ Jasmine placed a hand over her groin, ‘and I still have to wear enhancers.’ She touched her breasts.

  Wendy nodded. ‘I understand, Jasmine. Let me see what will suit you.’ She went straight to one of the alcoves and started pulling out hangers bearing dresses. With her arm
s full she returned to Jasmine and held them up one after the other against her.

  ‘As it’s winter, sleeves will be a good idea,’ Wendy explained, ‘a fairly high neckline will prevent any part of your bra showing, A full skirt will accentuate your waist and hide any bulges. Which of these do you fancy?’

  Jasmine felt confused. Wendy’s reasoning was sound but how that translated into a design that she preferred over the others made her head spin.

  ‘I…I don’t know.’

  ‘Well, let’s start with these two.’ Wendy selected two of the dresses that were in her arms. ‘Go and try them on in the changing room. Come out if you’d like our opinion. I’m sure Sergeant Shepherd will say something polite.’ Tom’s expression told Jasmine that he was as bemused as she was.

  Jasmine took the dresses from Wendy and carried them to the spacious changing room. She pulled the curtain across the entrance, hung the hangers on hooks and stared at them. What was she doing here, trying on wedding dresses of all things? It was some sort of fantasy that only occurred in dreams and then extremely rarely. Oh, she often thought about having a relationship and, having been friends with Viv for over three months now she knew that she could feel desire for a man as well as women such as her ex-wife, Angela.

  She and Viv had kissed and hugged. He had held her in an embrace which gave her a warm, cosy feeling but so far nothing sexual had occurred. Viv avoided touching her in the erogenous places but she didn’t know whether he was consciously avoiding them. Gradually, she had prepared herself for the moment when he would ask her to give him “satisfaction” and now she was nervously hoping it would come soon. Perhaps it would have happened this weekend, the first free time they had planned to spend together. Well, that wasn’t going to happen now. He had sounded disappointed but understanding when she’d given him a quick call on the way from the coffee bar. He was holding dinner until she returned. She had better get on and choose a dress and get this bit dealt with or even Viv’s patience would be strained.

  She removed her boots, undid her skirt, dropped it to the floor and stepped out of it as she pulled her jumper over her head. She had a black vest on underneath and debated for a moment whether to keep it on. Black would look silly under a white dress so decided that it had better come off along with her thick, black tights. The mirror reflected her body in bra and the “substantial” knickers that confined, between her thighs, her penis and scrotum containing the plastic balls. Wendy was right. She did still have the figure of a man except for her partly real and partly artificial breasts covered by the full-cup bra. Since her biorchidectomy in August, the feminising drugs had worked more effectively so she had more of her own breasts. There had also been a shift in fat tissue to her hips but nothing could completely disguise the underlying and unchangeable bone structure. Jasmine sighed. It was something she would have to live with but she longed for the time when she had a vagina and her own breasts with no need for enhancers. Perhaps when she had her own breasts she would believe that Viv could love her as a woman.

  She took down the first wedding dress made of smooth and shiny satin and found her way into it. The zip at the back was difficult to reach and perhaps intended for a dresser, a bridesmaid maybe, to assist. She’d be on her own at the hotel and didn’t want any problems in getting into her costume. She shrugged off the dress, hung it on the hanger and took down the other. This was covered in lace with lots of tiny beads. The dress slid over her body easily but fitted quite snugly around her waist and loosely on her hips. She looked at herself in the mirror and had a surprise –she looked like an attractive bride. She turned and saw that the dress had a low, cowl-style back that revealed her smooth shoulder blades but wasn’t so low that her bra strap showed. It was an attractive feature.

  Jasmine stepped out of the changing room and faced Wendy and Tom. The look on Tom’s face surprised her. It was of amazement and admiration.

  ‘You look fantastic, Jas,’ he said.

  ‘Turn around, Jasmine,’ Wendy said. Jasmine obeyed.

  Tom whistled softly. ‘Yes, that really suits you.’

  Wendy went on. ‘The lace and the beads blur the edges so you have no need to worry about your shape and the folds in the skirt obscure any hint of a bulge. The back is a very feminine touch revealing some bare skin that you have no need to feel self-conscious about. How do you feel, Jasmine?’

  Jasmine shrugged. ‘I think it will do.’

  ‘Do!’ Tom exclaimed, ‘You’ll wow them all at the hotel, Jas.’

  ‘Thanks, Tom. I don’t want to stand out too much.’

  ‘I think it will do you very well,’ Wendy said. ‘I just need to take it in at the hips a little, and of course you need white stockings, shoes and a headpiece. What size shoes do you take, Jasmine?’

  ‘Eights.’ Jasmine said. She was looking at herself in the full-length mirror and experiencing a strange emotion. She felt attractive; a pretty woman who could withstand a double-take by an observer.

  Wendy brought her a pair of white hold-ups and high-heeled white court shoes. She pulled the stockings up her thighs and slipped her feet into the shoes. They gave her a few extra centimetres of height. Then Wendy advanced towards her with an artefact manufactured from wire and netting. Wendy reached up and placed it on her head. A short rigid veil just covered her eyes. Wendy stepped back and examined her.

  ‘Yes, I think that’s the finishing touch. I don’t think you need any jewellery except a pair of silver earrings or studs like you’re wearing now.’ Jasmine reached for her ear lobes. She’d forgotten what she had put on this morning.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘I didn’t expect to look so….um…’

  ‘Beautiful?’ Tom asked.

  ‘That isn’t a word I’ve used to describe myself before,’ Jasmine said looking again at her image in the mirror.

  ‘I think it’s deserved,’ Tom went on, ‘mind you I never thought I’d say it about my mate Jim.’

  Jasmine laughed, a little nervously, ‘I had hoped that memories of my past would have faded by now, Tom.’

  ‘That’s asking a lot Jas,’ Tom replied.

  ‘Well, I think you look perfect,’ Wendy said, ‘or you will when I’ve done the alterations to the dress, so go and take it off and I will start straight away.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Jasmine said heading towards the changing room.

  ‘Oh!’ Wendy exclaimed, ‘Didn’t you mention that you will be a guest at Melody’s wedding?’

  Jasmine turned to face Wendy, ‘Apparently.’

  ‘Do you have a wedding outfit?’

  Jasmine thought about her wardrobe. It wasn’t very extensive. There were a couple of smartish suits she wore on jobs where being smart was necessary but they were rather drab and unsuitable for a wedding; two or three dresses for parties and dinners, and a number of everyday skirts and tops and woollies, but nothing that she could confidently call a wedding outfit.

  ‘No, I don’t.’

  Wendy went to another part of the wall and opened doors revealing more costumes which were anything but white. She drew out a salmon pink suit, checked the size and took it to Jasmine.

  ‘Try this on. I think it will suit you.’

  Jasmine took the suit with her to the changing room. She lifted the veiled fascinator from her head and laid it on the chair then carefully she removed the wedding dress and hung it back on the hanger. She slipped the stockings from her legs and looked at the new suit. It consisted of a short jacket over a simple sleeveless shift dress. She dressed quickly, had a quick look in the mirror, liking what she saw, picked up the wedding dress and stepped back out to face Wendy and Tom.

  Wendy took the bridal dress from Jasmine, stepped back to look at her and pronounced, ‘Lovely.’

  ‘You look great, Jas,’ Tom said, ‘add it to the bill, Wendy. The police will pay.’

  ‘First time Sloane has contributed to my female clothes bill,’ Jasmine joked.

  ‘He doesn’t know how much this is going to co
st yet,’ Tom replied.

  ‘He does know what you’ve planned, Tom?’

  ‘Oh, yes, he’s approved the operation.’

  Wendy interrupted, ‘I’ll get started. Let yourselves out when you’re ready. What shall I do about delivering it?’

  ‘How long will it take?’ Tom asked.

  ‘Oh, an hour or two. No longer.’

  Tom dug into the inside pocket of his jacket. ‘Here’s my card with my mobile number. Give me a call when it’s done. I’ll pick it up and deliver it to Jasmine.’

  Wendy took the card and disappeared through a door into another room.

  ‘Thanks, Tom,’ Jasmine said.

  ‘You hurry up and get changed and get back to Viv. You’ll need to go to the Ashmore Lodge as soon as I’ve delivered the dress.’

  ‘You want me there tonight!’

  ‘Of course. You’re a late arrival, held up by work or trains or something. You’re going to have to work out your story.’

  ‘But…’

  ‘It all kicks off tomorrow morning and I want you there as soon as possible, getting to know the suspects, finding out their stories, how well they knew Vokins, tripping up the killer.’

  ‘Okay, but…’

  ‘I’ll fill you in when I see you with the dress, but I need to get back to Patel. We’re supposed to be investigating a suicide. See you later.’

  Tom departed leaving Jasmine stunned into silence. She thought she had given up her weekend but apparently she’d given up most of the evening and Friday night too. So much for the possibilities arising from dinner with Viv. She sighed and returned to the changing room.

  A few minutes later she re-emerged in her own clothes and her duffle coat done up to face the November cold outside. She had the pink suit and the bits of her wedding outfit bundled in her arms. Wendy was waiting holding a large paper carrier bag.

  ‘Let me fold that up properly,’ she said, ‘You don’t want to find it creased on Sunday.’ She carefully folded the suit and gently placed it in the bag. Then she took the shoes, stockings and fascinator from Jasmine and put them in the bag too.