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

by P R Ellis

  ‘No, it’s more than that. Robbie and I didn’t spend the whole afternoon bonking. I did some investigation work. Do you know what that is, Sindy?

  ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘No? Well, I chatted to the receptionist. She was bored and tired and I think talked when she shouldn’t.’

  Jasmine trembled. What had the young woman told Flamboyancé. ‘She let out that you weren’t even allocated a room until last evening, just before you arrived. After Valerie was found dead.’

  Jasmine looked around. The others on the table were conversing and eating and taking no notice of her and Flamboyancé but her plate was untouched.

  ‘I can’t explain that,’ she said, ‘I was late applying, I know, but it was a day or two ago. Valerie must have set things going to fit me in before she, uh, killed herself.’

  ‘And that’s the other thing,’ Flamboyancé whispered. ‘I’ve been watching Valerie Vokins for years, learning how to rile her, seeing how she manipulated the others. She lived for this occasion when she could be the Madame of the group, giving her orders, directing the action, setting one member against another. Why would she commit suicide before the start of the weekend? Perhaps if she knew she had a terminal disease she might have taken her own life, but at the end not the beginning.’

  Jasmine couldn’t think of a thing to say.

  ‘It wasn’t suicide at all, was it,’ Flamboyancé continued. ‘She was murdered? That’s why that Asian police detective is still hanging round asking questions and that tall one too. You’re one of them aren’t you, put in amongst us to dig out the murderer. You think it was one of us don’t you?’

  Jasmine shook her head but it was unconvincing. She couldn’t deny the truth.

  ‘I’m not a police officer,’ she said.

  ‘Okay, but I’m right about the rest aren’t I?’

  Jasmine made a decision. ‘Don’t say a word to anyone else. I can’t tell you more here.’

  Flamboyancé smiled, warmly this time and sat up. ‘Eat your starter, Sindy, or Samantha will steal it.’

  Jasmine turned and saw Samantha eyeing her full plate.

  ‘Don’t you like it?’ she said.

  ‘I’m not that hungry after the late lunch we had,’ Jasmine said. ‘I think I’ll wait for the main course.’

  ‘I’m still famished,’ Samantha said. ‘I’ve starved myself for the last week to save for this weekend and make sure I get my money’s worth. Can I?’ She reached for Jasmine’s plate.

  ‘Please do,’ Jasmine said. She glanced to the left to see Flamboyancé finishing her plate. She winked at Jasmine. Is she pleased that she’s been proved right, or does she think she’s put me off her trail? Jasmine thought. By revealing her fractious relationship with the Belles and Vokins, Flamboyancé seemed to be making herself a suspect. Was it a double bluff or had she just seen through the fake suicide and her own cover story? How many of the others were suspicious of her? Did the killer, whoever he or she was, realise that she had been planted to flush her out?

  For a moment, Jasmine was the odd one out on the table with the other five pairs in conversation around her. Then the waiting staff returned to remove the plates and cutlery and Samantha leaned towards her again.

  ‘Hey, Sindy, your glass is empty. You’ve got to keep up you know. What will it be red or white?’

  Jasmine plumped for the white wine and a glass of fizzy water. Soon the main course – a chicken dish for the non-vegetarians, which was all of them except Sally – and the vegetables arrived. Jasmine chatted amiably with Samantha who was putting the wine away at a fast rate and quickly regaining her drunken state of the afternoon, and with Flamboyancé who made no further allusions to her identity. All the time though she was thinking. Could she carry on with her task now that at least one of the Belles knew she wasn’t who she pretended to be? Which one of them was the killer? If she discarded Flamboyancé as a suspect, and presumably her partner, Robbie too, there were not many left – Donna and Emma, Petula and Sally, Melody and Geraldine. They were arguably the six core members of the group. What did one or more of them have against Vernon/Valerie Vokins?

  The main course was completed and after a short wait, the sweet, a sort of pavlova construction of meringue, strawberries and cream, arrived. Jasmine took a sip of her wine while alongside her Samantha topped her glass up again simultaneously slurring through some convoluted story with Tammy on the other side of her and Geraldine beyond. Despite being surrounded by over a hundred, largely trans people making a tremendous din, Jasmine felt alone and lonely. Here she was sitting in an admittedly lovely wedding dress, but without her partner, pretending to be a male cross-dresser when she really wished to be literally cut off from her male past, secretly observing her companions to identify the killer amongst them. She felt dizzy and it wasn’t the alcohol – she’d barely drunk half a glass. She drank some water and then put the glass down on the table. She picked up her bag and pushed her chair back and announced, ‘I need the loo.’

  Flamboyancé rose beside her. ‘Ooh, me too. Shall we go and powder our noses together Sindy?’ Jasmine couldn’t reply that she wished to be alone and anyway Flamboyancé grabbed her hand and led her to wards the exit. In the corridor outside Jasmine followed the drag queen to the ladies’ lavatory. It was a brightly lit, marble floored and walled, emporium with a half dozen wash basins and four cubicles.

  Jasmine headed towards the first toilet but Flamboyancé grabbed her hand.

  ‘Let’s talk,’ she said. As she spoke another lady entered the loo. She was a gent in a flapper dress that unfortunately didn’t fall vertically as in the 1920s photos of similarly attired women but was somewhat stretched across his ample middle. Flamboyancé pushed Jasmine into the cubicle and followed her, her tutu filling the space between the thin walls. She closed and locked the door behind her.

  The flapper shouted in a bass voice, ‘Here, we don’t want sex going on in the ladies. Use your own room if you have to.’

  ‘We’re gossiping not fucking,’ Flamboyancé called back. There was a grunt and the sound of another door opening and closing.

  ‘What do you want, Freddie?’ Jasmine said, deliberately not using his drag queen name. ‘I really do need the loo, you know.’

  ‘And what have you got down there?’ Freddie/Flamboyancé said reaching for Jasmine’s crotch.

  Jasmine pushed his hand away. ‘Never mind. Now what’s this all about?’

  Freddie put his face close to her hers and whispered. ‘You admitted I was right about Vokins and you didn’t deny that you’re investigating us. I want to help you find who killed the old goat and why, but I’m also intrigued by you. You say you’re a cross-dresser like the others and you are wearing a wig but I wonder. You’re not a male cop who’s put on a frock to go undercover – you’re much too good for that. I don’t think you’re a real woman – your shoulder, hips and features are a bit too masculine. I wonder . . .’

  ‘Oh, stop this Freddie,’ Jasmine said a bit louder than she intended. The flush went in the other cubicle and the catch clicked as the door was opened. Freddie put a hand across Jasmine’s mouth.

  ‘Shh. Don’t frighten the horses,’ he whispered, ‘Let him think we are having a bit of nooky. He’ll tell his mates about it and they’ll have a hard-on as they imagine what we’re getting up to. But if you complain he’ll interfere and your cover will get blown.’ He moved his hand from Jasmine’s mouth to his own and made wet, slobbering noises.

  Water ran into a wash basin and then a hot-air fan blew noisily for a few seconds. At last, they heard steps leave the lavatory and the door close. Freddie stepped back from Jasmine.

  ‘So? Tell me all,’ he said.

  ‘I can’t,’ Jasmine said, ‘Yes, there is a police investigation into Vokins’ death and, yes, I am helping with the enquiry by observing all of the Belles. I can’t tell you anything more because there isn’t anything. You’re all suspects, you too.’

  ‘Oh, come on Sin
dy. Would I be doing this if it had been me that bumped Valerie off.’

  ‘A bluff?’ Jasmine said, ‘Look, I don’t know who did it. I haven’t got any clues. I was hoping someone would give themselves away this evening. I hoped it would be all wrapped up before the real wedding tomorrow, unless of course it is Melody or Geraldine. If you let it out that Vokins was murdered and my cover is blown then the police will step in and close down the weekend and there won’t be a wedding tomorrow.’

  Freddie’s face took on a serious expression. ‘Would they really do that?’

  ‘Yes. It’s only because they got me in that the whole weekend was allowed to continue.’

  ‘So Belinda’s in on it.’

  ‘Yes, of course she is. Look Freddie I don’t know what your relationship with the other Belles is but if you have any consideration for Melody and Geraldine and if you do actually want to help find out who killed Vokins, then keep quiet and let me do my job.’

  Freddie considered. ‘Okay. The lovebirds are quite sweet actually and I don’t want their day spoiled. I won’t tell anyone.’

  ‘That includes, Robbie, unless you’ve told him already.’

  ‘No, I left him in a post-orgasmic doze while I went sleuthing. But perhaps I can help you. Two pairs of eyes and ears are better than and all that.’

  Jasmine had fears of Freddie blowing their cover with over-enthusiastic eavesdropping.

  ‘Okay, but you have to be discreet. Leave it to me. I do have experience in surveillance. Now you had better get back before Robbie and the others get suspicious of what we’re up to, and I do need the loo.’

  Freddie backed towards the door. ‘Alright, I’m going, Sindy, or whatever your real name is.’

  ‘We’ll stick to Sindy for now. I promise I’ll reveal who I am before the weekend is over.’

  It was a couple of minutes before Jasmine followed Flamboyancé back to the dining room. She had had another go at covering up her inflamed top lip which seemed to be glowing more, not less, as time passed. When she returned to the table, coffee was being served and Flamboyancé and Robbie were deep in conversation. Gossiping about her, Jasmine presumed and hoped that Flamboyancé had enough guile to be able to cover up what their conversation had really been about.

  She sat down in her place as a big cheer went up around the room. She turned to look at the stage and saw that Belinda was once again at the microphone.

  ‘Well, Ladies. I hope you enjoyed the food.’ There were shouts of agreement and claps, ‘Now it’s time to start the entertainment and the first appearance of the evening of our guest, Havana Goodthyme.’ Belinda picked up the microphone stand and moved to the side of the small stage. The intro to Diamonds Are Forever began and the curtains swept back to reveal the towering figure of Honey Potts in her huge beehive wig, sparkling silver gown split to the hips, long glittering legs and ridiculously high, platform stiletto shoes. Jasmine recalled the previous time she had heard Honey perform this number and hoped that this time she would remain clothed. The audience cheered and then fell silent as Honey’s powerful voice picked up the melody and blasted their ears. Jasmine knew that Honey, or Havana, was good. She looked around the room seeing the faces of every Butterfly fixed on the performer. She looked more closely at her own companions, trying to peer through their enrapt faces and see into their minds to pick out which of them was the murderer.

  18

  Honey finished her set to rapturous applause while, Jasmine was pleased note, still fully clothed. The entertainer bowed deeply, tottering on her extreme shoes, and disappeared behind the curtains. Belinda mounted the stage again carrying the microphone stand.

  She lifted the microphone to her lips. ‘Well, Ladies, wasn’t Havana brilliant.’ The audience applauded again and cheered. When noise began to abate, Belinda continued. ‘Now it’s your turn to show off. I have a list of people who want to come up on stage and show us their costumes and anybody else who’d like to can come up afterwards.’ She glanced at the piece of paper she held in her hand. ‘First we will start with the Wedding Belles who as usual held their marriage ceremony this morning.’ She dropped her voice, ‘Of course, we were all saddened by the passing of Valerie Vokins but we all know that she would want the show, the wedding show, to go on. So Ladies, let’s give an extra show of support to the Brides.’

  The audience clapped politely. Jasmine started to clap then realised that her companions were rising to their feet. Of course, she thought, Belinda was talking about us.

  ‘Come on Sindy,’ Samantha said, swaying on her feet, ‘They won’t carry on clapping for ever. We’ve got to get on stage.’ Petula led the party towards the stage followed by Donna, Tammy, and Flamboyancé. Jasmine followed on trying to catch up while Samantha lurched along behind. Petula reached one end of the stage and mounted the steps with the others close behind. Once on the stage Petula walked solemnly to the middle showing off her gown, curtsied then continued on to join Belinda. Donna had hesitated at the side of the stage but once Petula had performed her dip, she went on, repeating the movement.

  Jasmine watched first Tammy and then Flamboyancé take their turn. Her heart was beating and she found herself shaking. She was going to have to show herself in front of all these people. They may have been trans themselves but they were all strangers. Flamboyancé had to show off a little more than the others, doing a skip and leap to the middle of the stage before pirouetting and bending one leg while pointing her straight leg to the audience. Jasmine was impressed and guessed that the tutu wasn’t just a costume. Flamboyancé, or Freddie, had obviously done some ballet training. The Ladies roared their approval and Flamboyancé skipped to the side.

  Then it was Jasmine’s turn. She took a deep breath and stepped onto the stage. Oh, don’t let me fall over on my heels, she prayed. The spotlights shone in her eyes and the crowd disappeared into the darkness beyond the stage. She reached the middle, turned, performed a small curtsy then standing up straight suddenly had the urge to do a twirl. The audience cheered as she did so, and she hurried off to join the others feeling elated. She joined the line of brides and turned to watch Samantha as she staggered onto the stage and took a zig-zag path towards them without stopping for the bow. She collided with Jasmine. For a moment, Jasmine felt herself tipping sideways and setting off a domino-effect. She grabbed Samantha’s hand and held herself firm.

  Flamboyancé took Jasmine’s other hand and then they were all bowing and processing off the stage to renewed applause. Jasmine returned to her seat surprised to find her breath coming in short gasps. Her brief appearance on stage had excited her.

  The audience had become quieter as Belinda read out some names.

  ‘Are you alright, Sindy?’ Geraldine asked from across the table, ‘Did you enjoy your brief exposure?’

  ‘I wasn’t expecting that,’ Sindy answered.

  ‘It’s tradition,’ Melody said, ‘the Belles always start the parade. Of course, Valerie should have lead us.’ Jasmine detected a hint of a sob in Melody’s voice. Was that genuine regret at Vokins’ absence or crocodile tears to hide her guilt? Jasmine favoured the former.

  ‘You had to put in a bit extra didn’t you, Flam,’ Petula grumbled.

  ‘Just giving the punters their money’s worth,’ Flamboyancé replied, grinning.

  Jasmine watched the procession of ladies across the stage, each given about five seconds in the limelight. All periods of female dress seemed to be represented from Egyptian queens to 1980s punk. Jasmine was staggered by the effort that some had made to prepare their costumes. There were some odd and quite daring outfits. One pair of ladies had come as stone-age cave girls as portrayed by Raquel Welch in One Million Years BC, complete with furry bra and knickers and nothing else.

  Jasmine had difficulty taking her eyes off the performers but she forced herself to look at the Belles as they watched, applauded and commented. Samantha was drinking while Melody and Geraldine clapped each lady enthusiastically. Flamboyancé shouted out her appreci
ation to those that took her fancy while Robbie was less vocal. Petula and Sally clapped politely and Tammy cheered excitedly. Only Donna and Emma seemed subdued. Donna held Emma’s hand while they watched the display silently.

  Why aren’t they enjoying the show as much as everyone else, Jasmine wondered? She resolved to speak to the pair and looked for an excuse to move closer to them. Their wine glasses were all but empty but there was a half full bottle of white wine near Jasmine which remarkably Samantha hadn’t snaffled. Jasmine reached for it then got up and moved around the table to stand at Donna’s shoulder.

  ‘Can I top your glass up?’ she asked.

  Donna looked up at her, surprise widening her eyes. ‘Oh, Sindy, yes please; just a drop.’

  Jasmine poured the wine carefully. ‘And Emma?’

  Donna shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. You don’t want any more wine, my dear?’ Emma shook her head without looking up at Jasmine.

  ‘Is Emma not enjoying the show?’ Jasmine asked.

  ‘She’s tired,’ Donna explained softly, ‘It’s her insomnia you see. She can’t sleep at night unless she takes her tablets and then is exhausted during the day.’

  ‘Has she got her tablets now?’

  ‘Yes. The girl on reception had some delivered for us. I don’t know what happened to the others. I thought we had packed them.’

  ‘Ah, well, I hope Emma sleeps tonight. It’s another big day tomorrow isn’t it; for Melody and Geraldine especially.’

  Donna nodded, ‘Yes, it is.’

  ‘Do you think Valerie was looking forward to the real wedding?’

  Donna’s face clouded. ‘Oh, I don’t think so. It took a lot of persuading to let Melody and Geraldine go ahead with it.’

  ‘I gather that Valerie was rarely persuaded to do anything she didn’t want to do.’

  Donna smiled weakly. ‘You’re right. On this occasion, I think she was persuaded by Melody and Geraldine offering to pay the costs of tomorrow’s ceremony. Usually it would be the Belles that have to pay for whatever Valerie planned.’