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

by P R Ellis

  Jasmine pondered. ‘And yet Petula went to the trouble of smuggling in a special cake to honour the Belles and Vokins. Why do that if he expected to get it in the neck for acting on his own initiative?’

  ‘Perhaps he didn’t,’ Tom said, ‘Perhaps he knew that Vokins wouldn’t be there.’

  ‘That’s what I thought, and he did get bad-tempered when I questioned him about it. But, I don’t know, it could be that this urge to dress up is just so strong he’d put up with any abuse from Vokins.’

  ‘If you say so, Jas. Seems pretty odd to me.’

  ‘And me.’ Jasmine looked down at the sheath of white fabric enclosing her body. While she admired the dress and liked how it fitted her she couldn’t see the passion and longing that the others apparently felt towards acting out their bridal fantasies.

  ‘So you think Petula has motive and opportunity,’ she said.

  Tom agreed. ‘Yes. Like the others – the Prestons, Salter and Woods. The others which you’ve dismissed shouldn’t be forgotten completely.’

  Now it was Jasmine’s turn to sigh deeply. ‘I haven’t got us very far, have I?’

  ‘You’ve done your best, Jas, and it’s hardly your fault that Vokins made so many enemies.’

  ‘But what are we going to do. There’s just one more day of the weekend.’

  ‘I’ve been thinking about that Jas and I’ve got an idea.’

  Jasmine held the phone tight to her ear. ‘An idea, Tom?’

  ‘Yes, How about if I announce in the morning that we have doubts about the suicide. The post mortem has provided evidence that questions the original story, that kind of thing.’

  ‘You mean to tell them that you have just changed your mind and think it may be murder.’

  ‘Yes. I wouldn’t let on that we’ve been suspicious all along.’

  ‘Right. What about me? Can I go home?’

  ‘No, Jas. You stay right in there. No change to your story. I won’t mention you having anything to do with us. Hopefully the announcement will worry the killer and you’ll be on the spot to detect them.’

  ‘Hmm, yes, it’ll certainly give them something to worry about. Do you have to get authority to change the story?’

  ‘Yes. I’ll speak to Sloane in a moment. I’ll text you to let you know if it’s on. OK?’

  ‘Good. I’ll get to bed. I’ll need to be wide awake and alert in the morning when you put the proverbial cat amongst the bridal pigeons. It’s a shame that it’s going to cast a cloud over Melody and Gerald’s wedding.’

  ‘It could be either or both of them who did it, Jas.’

  ‘I suppose you’re right, Tom. Well, good luck with Sloane.’

  ‘Thanks. I think he’ll be OK. Sleep well.’

  The call ended and Jasmine lay still with the hand holding the phone resting on her breast. Would Tom’s announcement make the brides more suspicious of her? Could Flamboyancé keep the secret? Well, she wouldn’t find out till the morning. She ought to do what she said and get some decent sleep. She slid off the bed, stood up and reached for her dress’ zip.

  20

  Jasmine examined her face in the mirror. The sore patch on her lip was still red, although perhaps a little less obvious than yesterday. Her eyes looked tired. She hadn’t slept as well as she had hoped. She kept on waking up after dreams in which members of the Wedding Belles were attacking her singly and in groups as if she was Valerie Vokins, and there was the leering face of Samantha grabbing her penis and balls which in her dream had miraculously taken on massive proportions. It wasn’t very pleasant. Now she was awake but wishing she wasn’t and the time was just after seven-thirty.

  She pulled her sleep-shirt over her head and ducked into the shower. The hot water made her feel better and soaping her body, feeling the curves of her developing breasts and hips, made her happier with herself. Standing with the water pouring over her shoulders she tugged on her penis, stretching it as far as was bearable. This didn’t give her pleasure, and there was no hint of tumescence. In fact she detested the task but her gender reassignment consultant urged her to do it morning and evening to ensure that there would be sufficient skin to convert into a vagina when she came to surgery. Without testicles and their secretions of testosterone, her useless penis would shrink unless she performed the twice daily exercise.

  As she dried herself she heard a text arrive in her phone. She hurried to read it. As she expected it was from Tom and consisted of just two words – “Sloane agrees”. Her heart thumped. Tom’s revised strategy was on. She hoped that it would stir up the killer sufficiently to reveal him or her before the end of the day.

  Dried and moisturised, Jasmine dressed. She decided not to dress in her wedding outfit – she was sure to spill some breakfast on it, so she pulled on the clothes she had worn for breakfast the previous day – a simple skirt and top. She did her make-up, ensuring her still red lip was covered, grabbed her keycard, phone and small bag and headed off for breakfast.

  Although it was nearly nine o’clock, the dining room was quieter than the previous morning. The ladies must still be recovering from the previous evening’s excesses and exertions, Jasmine thought. Nevertheless, a number of the Belles were assembled around their table. Jasmine collected some muesli, fruit and yogurt and joined them.

  ‘Hi, Sindy. Sleep soundly did you?’ Flamboyancé called out. She was dressed as eccentrically as on Saturday morning this time with a sleeveless yellow pvc dress and matching knee high boots contrasting with her pink wig. Jasmine thought her tone sounded a little accusatory, as if she wasn’t entitled to a good night’s sleep because she was basically living a lie. Was Flamboyancé having second thoughts about keeping to Jasmine’s cover story?

  ‘Not too well,’ Jasmine replied, ‘Perhaps I had too much to drink.’ She noticed Tammy was breakfasting without Samantha again. Like her, Tammy was wearing the same outfit as yesterday morning – a long jumper and tights combo.

  ‘Is that your outfit for the wedding?’ Jasmine asked Flamboyancé.

  ‘Yes, darling. Do you approve?’ The drag queen replied flicking her pink locks.

  ‘Uh, yes, why not. It’s you.’ Jasmine said.

  ‘I’m sure Melody and Geraldine will be happy,’ Tammy added. Jasmine noticed that the wedding couple were not at breakfast. Perhaps they had come down earlier. Richard and Matthew, once again in male mode, sat with their respective wives at opposite ends of the table, making no conversation and not even looking at the speakers.

  ‘How’s Samantha?’ Jasmine asked Tammy, trying to keep her voice solicitous.

  ‘Sleeping it off,’ Tammy replied between mouthfuls of bacon and egg. ‘I left her on the dancefloor when I went to bed. She crashed in an hour or so later and collapsed on her bed. It was amazing that she found our room. I thought I’d better check on her just in case she threw up. She was completely out and I couldn’t be bothered to try getting her dress off her. I knew she was OK because she snored most of the night.’

  Jasmine gave Tammy a sympathetic look and got on with eating her own breakfast.

  ‘Oh, by the way,’ she said quietly to Tammy, ‘I handed in that keycard that you found. I bet you can’t guess which room it was for.’

  Tammy raised his eyebrows, ‘No. Should I?’

  ‘It was for Valerie Vokins’ suite.’ Jasmine made the revelation as surprising as she could.

  Surprise filled Tammy’s face. ‘Vokins’ room? How did it get into my bag? I never went into her room. She was dead before I arrived.’

  Before Jasmine could reply she noticed Tom Shepherd approaching their table, neatly dressed in his customary dark grey suit. He stopped alongside Flamboyancé and Jasmine noticed his eyebrows rise a little as he took in the drag queen’s clothing. He didn’t sit down but his presence caught everyone’s eyes.

  Richard Edwards spoke, ‘Good morning, Sergeant. Do you have something to say to the Wedding Belles?’

  ‘I do actually,’ Tom said, looking around the table. ‘I hoped you m
ight all be here but I suppose that was too much to expect.’

  Richard appeared surprised. ‘Oh, would you like me to get Gerald and Melody. I’m not sure about Nolan. I think he’s somewhat the worse for alcohol.’

  Tom smiled and shook his head. ‘No, I am sure you can pass on what I have to say to the others.’ He took a breath. ‘I have some news about the investigation into the death of Mr Vokins. The pathologist has found some anomalies when she carried out a full post mortem.’

  Matthew’s head jerked upwards. ‘Anomalies?’ Jasmine looked at him and at the others’ reactions.

  Tom studied Matthew hard. ‘Yes. There is some evidence which casts doubt on the suicide scenario that we’ve been working with.’

  ‘Doubt?’ Richard’s voice rose half an octave. ‘Do you mean that Valerie was . . .’

  Tom interrupted, ‘We are now treating the death of Mr Vokins with suspicion.’

  Emma squealed and clapped her hand over her mouth, ‘What about Melody and Gerald’s wedding?’ she said.

  ‘That will continue as planned,’ Tom said, ‘But I must ask none of you to leave the hotel until I or one of my colleagues has said you may. You will see more uniformed and plain clothes police officers on the premises during the day as we step up our investigation. I will leave you to your breakfast as I have to speak to the other guests. Their day will be affected too.’ Tom turned to move away.

  ‘But Sergeant,’ Sally called from her wheelchair, ‘Do you think one of us killed Vernon?’

  Tom paused and looked over his shoulder.

  ‘I can’t tell you any more at this moment, Mrs Edwards.’ He strode off. Jasmine mentally congratulating him for causing the maximum amount of agitation around the table with the minimum amount of information.

  ‘What does he mean?’ Tammy said looking confused. ‘I thought Valerie had killed herself.’

  Flamboyancé pushed her chair back. ‘He meant what Sally said. Vokins was murdered and the police think one of us did it. We’re all suspects; or almost all.’ She glanced at Jasmine, but Jasmine was relieved when her gaze didn’t linger.

  ‘That’s preposterous,’ Richard said. ‘Who would murder Valerie?’

  ‘Who indeed?’ Flamboyancé said, ‘Did any of us not wish her dead, on occasion. You included, Petula.’

  Richard/Petula blustered. ‘How dare you! Of course not! What an outrageous suggestion.’ He stood up and took hold of Sally’s wheelchair. ‘Come on darling. We’ll go and speak to the detective again. See if we can get some sense out of him. Murder, huh, I’m sure it’s a mistake.’ He strode off pushing Sally.

  ‘I’m going to start getting ready,’ Matthew said, also rising from his chair, ‘After all I am one of Melody’s bridesmaids and I am sure she is going to be upset when she hears this news. What a thing to learn on your wedding morning.’ He too left, with Emma close behind.

  ‘I’d better go and see if Sam is awake and tell her what’s happened.’ Tammy said, ‘With everything that she’s said about Valerie being responsible for her divorce she could be a suspect.’ She too left.

  Flamboyancé fastened her eyes on Jasmine. ‘So Sindy. What’s your plan now then? The murder is out in the open. Is your little game over?’

  ‘No, and I’d be grateful if you didn’t mention it,’ Jasmine said in a hushed voice. ‘My job is still to watch and listen and hopefully pick up the identity of the killer if and when they make a slip.’

  ‘We’re all suspects for murder in your eyes, are we?’

  ‘Some of you. I’m not saying anything else; and, if you have any suspicions you should tell the police.’

  ‘That’s you, isn’t it?’

  ‘No. I’m helping the police. I’m not an officer. Of course, you can tell me anything you know and I will pass it on – sometime, but I’m not in contact with the investigating team all the time.’

  ‘So, you’re just going to spy on us all for the day are you?’ Flamboyancé’s usual flippancy had disappeared. Now she glowered at Jasmine.

  ‘It’s my job,’ Jasmine said spreading her hands. ‘Don’t you want to know who killed Vokins?’

  ‘Yeah, but it seems creepy, what you’re doing. Why don’t the police just interview everyone and take DNA? Surely that would show who was in Valerie’s room when he died.’

  ‘It might and it might not. The police could have shut down this whole weekend to carry out an investigation like you describe. They decided that it might cause less bother, and be quicker, if we did it this way. Would you really have wanted your weekend of dressing up and showing off terminated?’ Jasmine had felt herself getting angry. How would Freddie/Flamboyancé react to the “showing off” jibe?

  He glared at her for a moment, then his anger evaporated. ‘You’re right. I wanted this weekend to have some fun with Robbie and to play up to Valerie and Petula and the others. You really think the police were going to shut us down?’

  ‘I know they were. It was Belinda who persuaded Tom to act differently.’

  Flamboyancé’s eyes widened. ‘Belinda’s been in on this from the start?’

  ‘Yes, of course. She’s the organiser. She found Vokins’ body.’

  ‘The crafty old bugger. She’s given no sign of anything.’

  Jasmine nodded. ‘She’s been very helpful, partly because she didn’t want the weekend mucked up and she wants Vokins’ killer found. Now are you going to help or do I have to ask DS Shepherd to remove you? I’m sure we can think of a reason.’

  Flamboyancé peered into Jasmine’s eyes, looking for a sign that she was bluffing. She was, as she wasn’t sure what Tom could or would do, but she tried not to let her doubts show. She was successful.

  ‘OK,’ Flamboyancé sighed, ‘I don’t want to miss the wedding and I don’t want to spoil it either. I’ll keep your secret.’

  ‘Thanks, and if you overhear any of the others say anything suspicious let me or one of the police officers know.’

  Flamboyancé looked uncertain of herself for the first time but quickly recovered. ‘Yeah, OK. I’d better take some breakfast up to Robbie. Perhaps the lazy fucker is awake now.’ She got up and headed for the breakfast buffet. Jasmine was left on her own. It was time she went and got ready for the real wedding ceremony. Although it was still nearly three hours away she needed to be out and about so that she could observe the Belles when they appeared. Surely, time to identify the killer was slipping away.

  21

  Jasmine hurried back to her room. She locked her door and stripped off the everyday clothes that she had been wearing. Then she dressed in the new salmon pink dress that Wendy had pressed on her. She stood in front of the long mirror, turning from side to side, examining her image. She could really see the value of a well-cut dress that fitted perfectly. It showed curves where she wasn’t sure she had them. Surely, no one could mistake her for a man or a cross-dresser. She was a woman. OK, there were a few surgical adjustments to make, sooner, hopefully, than later, but she felt confident that her male past was behind her.

  Jasmine returned to the bathroom, checked and improved her make-up, still worrying about her lip. It may have had some of the tell-tale bristles removed but until the skin settled it was an annoyance and, she imagined, drew attention to her face. She leaned close to the mirror. Was her chin a bit too “chiselled”, her nose a little “beaky”? Did she need facial feminisation surgery? She was indulging herself, wasting time. She should be out in the hotel, observing the Belles, looking for the slips that hinted at the killer.

  As she returned to the bedroom there was a gentle knock on the door. Jasmine unlocked it and pulled it open. Tammy slid through the gap. Jasmine pulled back surprised. Tammy was still dressed as she was at breakfast.

  ‘I need to speak to you, Sindy,’ Tammy said, making sure that the door was closed behind her.

  ‘What is it Tammy? Shouldn’t you be getting ready, and getting Samantha dressed too?’

  ‘Yes, but I’ve been thinking about what that detective said a
nd what you told me about the keycard.’

  ‘Ah, yes,’ Jasmine replied beginning to see the reason for Tammy’s agitation.

  ‘Did you tell them that it was in my bag?’ Tammy asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  Tammy dark face lost some of its colour. ‘They’ll think I killed Valerie.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘It’s obvious isn’t it. If I had a key the police are bound to think it was me that got into Vokins’ room and killed him.’

  ‘I suppose that’s a possibility.’

  ‘But it wasn’t me,’ Tammy appealed. ‘I don’t know how it got into my bag, but I had a thought.’

  Jasmine wondered what deductions Tammy had made. ‘What was that?’

  ‘Sam could have dropped it in my bag anytime. We’re sharing a room.’

  Jasmine made herself look surprised. ‘Do you mean. . .?’

  ‘Yes. Samantha killed Vokins.’

  Jasmine had a vision of Tammy going around the hotel telling everyone of her suspicions and ending any chance of her finding the killer whether it was Samantha or one of the others, even possibly Tammy herself.

  ‘Hold on Tammy, it’s not as simple as that. Yes, Sam could have put it in your bag, but did you always have it with you when you were outside your room?’

  Tammy pondered, ‘No. I put it down before the marriage ceremony and at the wedding breakfast.’

  ‘Well, there you are. It could be Sam or it could be anyone.’

  Tammy started to hyperventilate her accent thickening. ‘But what can I do. The police will think it’s me.’

  ‘Calm down, Tammy. Look the police aren’t going to do anything until after Melody and Geraldine are married. Then they will start questioning everyone and I don’t think you’ll be chief suspect.’

  ‘Why not?’