by P R Ellis
‘I’ve put another pair of white stockings in for you, just in case you ladder the first pair,’ Wendy said. ‘I presume you have neutral tights to wear with the suit?’
‘Yes,’ Jasmine replied taking the bag from Wendy’s hands. ‘Thanks for everything. I wasn’t expecting to enjoy this but you’ve made it a pleasure.’
‘I hope the weekend goes well and you find your murderer. You’ll be one of the most attractive brides.’
‘I’m not looking forward to that – being with a bunch of transvestites in bridal wear.’
‘Some of them don’t look bad at all,’ Wendy said.
Jasmine’s eyes widened, ‘You know men who do this?’
‘Oh, yes, I’ve had a few male customers over the years. They come in for private fittings after closing time. Sometimes they come in female clothes but often they arrive as themselves.’
‘What do you think of them?’
‘I don’t mind. If they like dressing up why should I disapprove? Anyway, they spend a lot of money and help me keep the business going.’
Jasmine nodded, ‘I can see that’s useful.’ The clock on the wall caught her eye. It was past eight. ‘I’d better go. Viv will be waiting for me – I hope.’
‘And I must get on with your dress. Good luck, Jasmine. I’d love to hear how it goes.’
‘Thanks. I’ll let you know.’
7
Tom Shepherd noticed the receptionist at the Ashmore Lodge Hotel stifle a yawn as he entered the brightly lit foyer. She was the same young woman as he had seen earlier in the evening. He looked around and saw DC Patel rising from a low leather seat beside the entrance as she too saw him. Tom nodded to the receptionist and turned towards Patel.
‘Hi, Sasha, sorry I’ve been so long,’ he said, waving her to sit down and then joined her. He stretched out his long legs.
‘Is Miss Frame joining us?’ Sasha said in a quiet voice.
‘Yes, she’ll be here in a while.’
‘And was Wendy helpful.’
‘Yes. Very, but you hadn’t told her that Jas was trans.’
DC Patel raised a hand to her mouth. ‘No. Should I have done? I didn’t think.’
‘I don’t know if Jas would have wanted you to have said anything but Wendy Carter noticed that Jasmine’s figure is not, um, girly. I thought Jas might blow but she took it pretty calmly. Wendy was easy about it. Apparently Melody Woods has bought her dress from her.’
‘Ah, yes. Miss Woods lives in Reedham. Will she know Jasmine?’
‘Jasmine said she didn’t know her but I think I’d better warn her to wear one of her wigs just in case Woods or any of the others recognise her from the papers. Jasmine has had a bit of publicity in the last year.’
‘It could be a problem if any of the Belles recognise her.’
‘Yes, but we’ll just have to see how it goes.’
Patel nodded. ‘So Jasmine has a wedding dress?’
‘Yes, Wendy is making a few alterations. That’s one reason why Jas isn’t here yet. I said I’d pick it up and deliver it to her. Then she can get a taxi here.’
‘I’d like to see Jasmine in a wedding dress.’
‘Well, Jas didn’t like the idea but she looked fantastic when she tried it on. Anyway, what have you managed to get done?’
‘I’ve met all the members of the Belles who are attending the weekend. They had all arrived by seven PM, in time for the dinner, but a few said they weren’t here when Vokins died. That is confirmed by their registration details but they could have got in through another entrance.’
‘CCTV?’
‘There are a few cameras around the hotel but not in the Pang Wing. The only one is up there.’ Patel pointed to the ceiling above the entrance to the conference wing. ‘It records people as far as the lift, but there is another entrance from the garden from which you can get to the stairs and not appear on the camera.’
Tom scratched his neck. ‘Hmm. So we haven’t got visual evidence of the killer. It’s going to come down to interviews and chat. We’re going to need Jasmine.’
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘How did the Belles react to the news and your questioning?’
‘They all appeared surprised. I couldn’t say if any of them were feigning it. Some were more upset than others.’
Tom’s eyebrows raised. ‘Who didn’t take Vokins “suicide” badly?’
DC Patel picked up her notebook which had been lying in her lap and flicked through the pages. ‘Melody Woods was pretty tearful.’
‘I suppose she was worried that Vokins’ death might disrupt her wedding.’
‘Yes, she did ask if it could go ahead as planned. She cheered up when I told her it would.’
‘What about her fiancé? What was his name? Belinda did mention it.’
Patel turned a page. ‘Gerald Salter, although he was dressed as Geraldine when I interviewed them. They’re sharing a room. He didn’t seem too bothered that Vokins was dead although that might have been because he was calming his fiancé.’
‘When did they arrive?’
‘About three,’ Patel said, reading from her notes.
‘In time to be Vokins’ killer or killers,’ Tom said.
‘Would either of them kill a day before their wedding?’
‘Who knows? They had opportunity, perhaps they had a motive too. Who else is there?’
DC Patel looked through the pages of her notebook. ‘There are another eight people staying in the Pang Wing, Sir. A couple are women accompanying their Belle husbands.’
Tom sighed. ‘And that’s just a start. It could be one of the other cross-dressers that killed Vokins; there’s nearly a hundred of them. Our golden hour has passed, Sasha. Let’s hope the killer isn’t miles away and laughing himself silly at the success of his escape. Do you have any favourites?’
‘Not really, Sir, but well. . .’ she selected a page of her notepad, ‘Samantha Nolan, her real name is Patrick, didn’t seem at all upset at Vokins death. Referred to him as the “interfering old bugger”. That could have been a double bluff, I suppose, to make us think he wouldn’t be so frank if he’d killed Vokins.’
‘We’ll speak to him tomorrow and find out how he got his opinion of Vokins. It looks like we’ll need Jasmine to draw out the truth.’
The door to the dining-cum-ballroom opened, letting out a burst of merry voices and music. Belinda appeared, scanned the foyer and seeing Tom and Sasha Patel, approached them brandishing her clipboards.
‘Ah, you’re back with us, Sergeant,’ Belinda said as she joined them on the low, leather chairs.
‘Just returned, Belinda. Sasha was filling me in.’
Belinda leaned towards Tom and whispered, ‘You haven’t found the murderer yet then?’
‘No, we’re still following the plan of having Jasmine join the Belles and listen in on conversations while we interview the guests to try to determine why Vokins committed, uh, “suicide”.’
Belinda nodded. ‘I see. I’ve arranged for Jasmine to have our room.’
‘That’s good of you. Where are you staying? Or are you going home?’ Tom asked.
‘Oh, we couldn’t leave this place. Someone would be bound to need something while we were gone. The manager is putting us up in his staff apartment. He has a spare bedroom.’
‘That’s convenient. Does the manager know why?’
‘I said I’d made a mistake and overbooked. He was very helpful. Mind you he should be. We’ve been coming here for years and can always guarantee the hotel is fully booked.’
‘The first time you’ve had a violent death I expect.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Belinda nodded.
‘How have your guests taken the news?’
‘I announced it at the start of dinner, along with all the other notices. Not surprisingly there had been lot of gossip what with all the police cars. The Belles knew by then, of course.’
‘What was the reaction to Vokins’ suicide?’
Belinda fr
owned. ‘They were a bit subdued at first. Lots of them knew Valerie, at least by reputation, but I think they’re getting over it.’ She nodded towards the ballroom. ‘A few drinks and choruses of “Agadoo” will cheer them all up and get them dancing.’
‘So Vokins’ absence isn’t going to affect the weekend too much, then,’ Tom commented.
‘I don’t know whether to be pleased or sorry about that,’ Belinda said, ‘I want the Butterfly Ball to be a success but it is rather sad that few people are troubled by Valerie’s passing. She never made herself popular despite all the work she did for the Belles. Which reminds me. I’m looking for Petula.’
‘Petula?’ Tom asked.
‘Richard Edwards, aged 66, married to Sally Edwards,’ Sasha read from her notes.
Belinda nodded. ‘That’s right. Sally’s disabled, in a wheelchair. They’ve probably gone up to their room in the Pang Wing.’
‘Why are you looking for him, er, her?’ Tom asked.
‘Well, Petula was officially Valerie’s deputy in the Belles. Not that I think she had much of a say in the arrangements. Valerie wouldn’t let anyone else have a serious role in the organisation. It really was a wonder that she allowed Melody and Geraldine to have their wedding as part of the weekend. But with Valerie gone, Petula will have to take charge now. I’ve got the revised guest list for her, including Jasmine. I’m going to say she was a late applicant that I managed to squeeze in.’
‘Oh, thanks. That will help Jasmine’s cover story.’
‘I’m sure the girls will accept her. When is she arriving?’
‘Later this evening. There were a few details to sort out.’
‘Was she happy to be a Wedding Belle? She doesn’t seem the type to join them. She wasn’t a Butterfly for long and being TS and in the police, well …’
‘No, I can’t say she was enthusiastic about it, but she can’t get enough of detective work so she’ll do it. And she looks fantastic.’
‘I look forward to seeing her.’
‘Don’t look as though you know her. She’s got to appear to be a stranger,’ Tom warned.
Belinda appeared a little chastened. ‘Of course. I must remember that and make sure Susan does too. I’ll see if Petula can meet her when she arrives.’ Belinda gathered up her clipboards and stood. ‘I presume we’ll see you both tomorrow.’
‘Unless the killer is discovered very soon we’ll be taking statements. Even a suicide enquiry needs all the i’s crossed and t’s dotted. Um, I mean the other way round. One or other of us will be here overnight, just in case there are developments.’
Belinda looked worried. ‘You think the killer may strike again?’
Tom shook his head. ‘No. I don’t think the evidence suggests we’ve got a crazed killer of fake brides on our hands, but if the killer is still here they may be worried and do something unexpected or out of character. We need to be on hand when that happens.’
‘I hope you have a quiet night,’ Belinda said as she departed.
Tom stood up. ‘I’m going to have a word with the receptionist. She’s been on duty a while hasn’t she?’
Sasha looked in her notebook. ‘Camilla Boyce. She started her shift at one p.m. before the guests started to arrive.’
‘She’s met a lot of them then. She may have noticed something. Perhaps she can find us something to eat too. I’m starving. How about you?’
‘It’s been a while since lunch, Sir.’
Tom crossed the foyer to the reception desk.
‘Hello. Camilla isn’t it?’
Camilla gave him a tired smile. ‘Yes. You’re the policeman investigating what happened to Mr Vokins.’
‘I’m DS Shepherd. I responsible for finding out about Mr Vokins’ suicide. You’ve been on duty a long time.’
‘Yes, I said I’d do a long shift today when all the conference delegates are arriving. I finish at midnight.’
‘You must have been busy. There’s over a hundred guests aren’t there?’
‘The Manager, Mr Adams, helped out during the busy period.’
‘Did you meet many of the Wedding Belles group, Camilla?’
‘I think I registered all of them. I looked after the Pang Wing.’
‘Ah, that’s good. So, what did you think of them. Did any make an impression on you?’
Tom watched Camilla contemplate her answer. ‘Mr Vokins arrived first.’
‘How did he seem?’
‘Well, he was, how can I say it, a bit sharp. Not rude, but he expected everything done exactly as he wanted. I don’t want to gossip as he’s dead, but. . .’
‘But what, Camilla?’
‘Well, there was bad feeling between him and the next guest who arrived. They had words with each other.’
‘Who was it?’
‘Um, Miss Nolan, except she’s a man really.’
Tom nodded recalling DC Patel’s report. ‘Ah, yes, Patrick/Samantha Nolan. What was said?’
Camilla shook her head, ‘I can’t remember exactly. I think it was something to do with his wife, Nolan’s that is, and being a TV. That’s transvestite, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, a cross-dresser. Most of your guests this weekend are transvestites, I think, rather than transsexuals, TSs.’
‘Yes, I see, but one of the Belles is one of those. She’s the bride in the proper wedding on Sunday.’ Camilla seemed pleased that she had remembered.
‘Melody Woods,’ Tom prompted.
‘That’s right. She arrived with her fiancé, Gerald.’
‘How did they seem?’
‘Very happy. Looking forward to their wedding. I did get the impression that Mr Vokins hadn’t been too keen on their marriage forming part of his weekend plans and he kept the honeymoon suite for himself when it would have been a kind gesture to let Melody and Gerald have it.’
‘Hmm, yes.’ Tom was wondering whether there was more than mild irritation between Vokins and the wedding pair. ‘Who else checked in before about three thirty?’
Camilla looked down at her computer screen hidden below the surface of the desk. Tom saw her eyes scanning up and down. After a few moments, she replied.
‘There were two pairs. Mr and Mrs Preston, arrived after Mr Nolan and then there were two gentlemen, Mr Derham and Mr Jones. They were a couple, as well, if I can say that, Detective Sergeant.’
Tom understood Camilla’s meaning. The Belles appeared to be quite a mixture of types and he wondered how a gay couple fitted in with the TVs.
‘Did you form any opinions on those two pairs, Camilla?’
‘Mr Derham was quite extrovert. He kidded Mr Preston about running off with the Wedding Belles’ money. I think he must be their treasurer. And Mr Derham was a bit rude about Mr Vokins.’
‘Thank you, Camilla. That’s eight of the Belles accounted for including Vokins. I think there are three more?’
‘That’s right. Mr and Mrs. Edwards didn’t check in until five although I am sure one of the others said they had seen Mr Edwards earlier.’
‘Oh really,’ Tom made a note to himself to follow that little titbit further. ‘I believe Mrs Edwards is disabled?’
‘Yes, she’s in a wheelchair which Mr Edwards pushes.’
‘All the rooms in the Pang Wing are on the first floor, aren’t they? Isn’t that a problem for them?’
‘They know the hotel well, and there is the lift.’
‘Right. So that leaves one more guest?’
‘Yes. She was the last to arrive, just before five-thirty.’ Camilla glanced at her screen. ‘Tammy Walsh.’
‘A woman?’
’No. She appeared to be a woman. Not very tall and smartly dressed, but she was definitely a man.’
‘You are sure you can tell the trans-women from real women?’ Tom was wondering how certain Camilla was, since he knew he sometimes got it wrong.
‘You can usually tell from their figures – narrow hips and broad shoulders – as well as when they speak. Not many can hide their deep voices
completely.’
‘OK, so Tammy Walsh is one of the Belles. Anything else you can tell me about her or him?’
Camilla looked as if she was unsure about answering. ‘I don’t know whether I should say. Is it wrong to refer to a person’s colour?’
‘No, Camilla. It’s a distinguishing feature which helps in identification. I gather Ms Walsh was a person of colour?’
‘Yes, she was very dark.’
Tom realised he hadn’t seen many, if any at all, coloured guests since they had arrived at the hotel. ‘I think that makes Tammy Walsh a bit unusual amongst the Belles.’
‘Yes. There aren’t any others like her.’
‘Is she staying in a single room?’
‘No. There aren’t any in the Pang Wing. She’s sharing with Mr, uh, Miss, Nolan.’
Tom’s eyebrows rose. ‘Oh. Do they know each other?’
‘I think so. Ms Walsh asked if Samantha had arrived.’
‘Did Tammy have anything else to say?’
Camilla shook her head. ‘Other than being later than she would have liked; traffic I think.’
‘She didn’t mention Vokins?’
‘No.’
Nothing there then. Unless their own interviews got results it was going to be up to Jasmine to draw out the juicy stories that might just lead to the killer.
‘Thanks Camilla.’ Tom was about to turn away from the desk and return to DC Patel when he recalled his other reason for speaking to the receptionist. ‘Oh, is there any way we could get something to eat. My colleague and I haven’t eaten since lunch.’ Tom was aware of a gaping hole in his abdomen which needed filling.
Camilla smiled. ‘Of course, Sir. Would you like a sandwich? I can get room service to serve you. Or there may be portions left over from the dinner.’ She nodded to the dining room behind her from which a muffled roar greeted the commencement of loud disco music. ‘I’ll ring the kitchen.’ She picked up her phone and pressed buttons.
‘Thank you.’ Tom rejoined Sasha Patel. ‘Would you like sandwiches or the leftovers from the dinner, Sasha?’
‘I get tired of sandwiches, Sir. A hot meal would make a change if they’ve got some.’
‘I agree with you.’ Tom returned to the desk. Camilla was holding the phone away from her ear.
