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

by P R Ellis

  ‘But?’

  ‘You never knew Valerie, or Vernon, Sindy,’ Jasmine shook her head. ‘He could be very difficult, rude, scheming, manipulative.’

  Jasmine noticed that Gerald had used the same words as Matthew Preston.

  ‘You mean like telling Samantha’s wife that she was a cross-dresser.’

  Gerald nodded. ‘That’s one example.’ They lifted the sixth pedestal and began to move down the aisle.

  Jasmine delved further. ‘You’ve been a member of the Belles, for a long time haven’t you, Gerald? Didn’t I hear that you and Melody met at a wedding weekend?’

  ‘That’s right,’ Gerald said puffing slightly. ‘Quite a few years ago. Melody was still like me and the others then – a cross-dresser – although even then I think she knew that one day she would transition.’

  ‘But you became a couple?’

  ‘Not immediately. Friends yes. But I’m not gay. First I separated from my wife, my first wife I’ll have to say from now on. I had one or two brief, ah, relationships, with other women, and then, well, Melody had started her transition and we found ourselves becoming more than just good friends.’

  ‘She had her reassignment surgery?’

  ‘Well, not quite. It takes a considerable time on the NHS and she couldn’t afford to go private.’

  Don’t I know it, Jasmine thought.

  ‘But we didn’t have, um, sex, until she had completed it all and was fully a woman.’

  They placed the stand in its place and stepped back to check the tableau.

  ‘I heard that Vokins wasn’t too pleased about your relationship, and took some persuading to allow the wedding.’

  Gerald looked at her, frowning.

  ‘You have been listening to a lot of chatter, haven’t you, Sindy. Why are you interested?’

  Jasmine knew she had to be careful. ‘Well, of course I never knew him/her so when I arrive and find he’s dead and now we hear it’s murder, I suppose I’m intrigued. Why would anyone want to kill an old cross-dresser who arranges these wonderful wedding events?’

  Gerald nodded slowly, ‘Who indeed? But, as I said, it seems one of us was driven by his demands to kill him.’

  ‘His demands? Did he want something from you, Gerald?’

  Gerald turned away. ‘I don’t think I should say. Not now. Look at the time. I must go and get ready.’ He hurried up the aisle and out of the room.

  Jasmine stood all alone. What is he hiding, she wondered? Is it related to his affair with Emma Preston? Did Matthew Preston know about it after all, and that was another reason in addition to the financial dealings for trying to kill Vokins? Perhaps it was Gerald who finished the job. She shook her head – there were too many possibilities.

  What to do now? There was still some time till the wedding. Where would guests start congregating? Jasmine decided to try the bar and lounge.

  There were ladies taking morning coffee, none of whom Jasmine knew, but she recognised one figure sitting alone at a table. It was Honey Potts, soberly dressed in a hound’s tooth skirt suit. She saw Jasmine and waved. Jasmine went over to the table.

  ‘Hello, Jas. . . Oh, I mustn’t call you that, must I?’

  ‘It’s Sindy, remember?’

  ‘Oh, yes. Would you like a coffee?’ Honey waved at the barman who came to their table and took Jasmine’s order of a black coffee.

  Honey leaned towards Jasmine. ‘Are you still, um, working?’

  ‘Yes,’ Jasmine hissed.

  ‘Oh, I wondered. I’ve heard all the talk about the murder and there are more police around so I wondered. . . ‘

  ‘I’m still trying to identify the murderer but I’m not getting anywhere.’ Jasmine said.

  ‘What’s the problem?’ Honey said as if she expected Jasmine to be able to solve the case with a wiggle of her nose.’

  ‘There are too many suspects,’ Jasmine whispered.

  ‘Too many?’

  ‘Yes, all most all the Wedding Belles may have done it.’

  ‘They all seemed keen on showing themselves off yesterday,’ Honey said.

  ‘That’s the whole point of why they are here,’ Jasmine continued, struggling to keep her voice down. The barman approached and placed her cup of coffee on the table. Jasmine waited till he had moved away before continuing. ‘They all hated Vokins but couldn’t give up their precious weekend flouncing around in wedding dresses. But Vokins pushed one or more of them too far.’

  ‘Oh.’ Honey looked unhappy and kept glancing at the entrance to the bar. ‘I want nothing to do with it.’ she said, ‘All these police are making me nervous.’

  Jasmine knew all about Honey’s previous brushes with the law. She looked around but couldn’t see any police officers, uniformed or otherwise. ‘All?’ she said.

  ‘There’s two uniformed guys in the foyer stopping anyone leaving. But I’ve got to go and catch my train. I’m on stage in London this evening.’

  ‘Not your old act?’

  ‘No, I told you, I’m doing a straight drag queen act now. Like last night.’

  Jasmine nodded. ‘You were good. I’m glad your career is moving.’

  ‘Well, it won’t if I can’t get out of here.’

  ‘Speak to the officers,’ Jasmine said, ‘They should have a list of who to stop. It’s the Wedding Belles who are the suspects. The officers should let you out and if they’re unsure they’ll check with Tom Shepherd, the detective.’

  Honey cheered up. ‘Oh, thanks. How have you been since your op? Not missing your balls are you?’

  Jasmine knew that Honey was still in full possession of her own male genitalia and keen to make use of them despite looking like a screen goddess. ‘I’m fine thanks. All healed up and the hormones are working a lot better. I can feel I’ve got more curves even if most people don’t see it.’

  ‘Oh, I can, You’re a lovely looking girl.’

  ‘Thanks. I’m just impatient to finish it and be a proper woman.’

  ‘I hope you get your wish soon,’ Honey finished her coffee and glanced at her watch. ‘I’d better go and check out my taxi. It’s not long till my train is due.’ She stood up, a tall, elegant woman in vertiginous heels and with a bee-hive hair-do. ‘Thank you, Ja…Sindy. It’s lovely to see you again. I hope you, uh, you know.’ She walked off with barely a totter despite her top-heavy bearing and toe-crushing footwear.

  Jasmine lifted her coffee cup to her lips, her spirits somehow lifted by the encounter with Honey. Now, though, she was alone again and she watched the door, waiting for someone to appear who she could talk to about the case.

  She only had a few moments to wait until Tom Shepherd entered, stopped and surveyed the bar. He saw Jasmine and approached her without a blink or a smile to indicate he knew her.

  ‘Ah, good morning, Miss,’ he said, ‘I believe you are a member of the Wedding Belles? I wonder if we may have a chat, somewhere private.’

  Jasmine noticed that a few of the ladies were taking an interest in the conversation.

  ‘Of course,’ she said, picking up her bag and standing. Tom led her from the bar and into the foyer. They slipped behind the reception desk into a small office.

  Tom turned to her and smiled. ‘Sorry I had to be formal then.’

  ‘No need to be sorry,’ Jasmine replied, ‘I’m one of the Belles so have to be treated like one.’

  ‘Yes, well I’m glad I found you. I got your message. What’s going on?’

  Jasmine stepped close to the DS and said in a low voice. ‘Matthew Preston came to me and confessed to drugging Vokins.’

  ‘Tom’s eyebrows rose. ‘Why did he come to you?’

  ‘He heard Freddie and me talking so knew that I was undercover. Actually he wanted to silence me.’

  ‘Silence you!’ Tom gasped.

  ‘He attacked me, but I subdued him.’

  ‘Really Jas! You should have called me and I would have arrested him.’

  ‘No. Look he put some of his wife’s sleeping ta
blets in a bottle of wine he gave to Vokins. But that’s all. He didn’t know if Vokins had drunk more than a sip and he certainly knew nothing of the drowning and wrist cutting.’

  ‘So you’re saying that someone else finished Vokins off.’

  ‘Yes, and the best way of finding out who that was is to let the wedding go ahead as planned.’

  ‘You think Preston will keep quiet?’

  ‘I made all sorts of dire threats about what you’d do to him if he didn’t. I think he’s frightened enough to keep it to himself for now. His nervousness might be a problem though.’

  Tom’s brow creased in thought. ‘OK, we’ll leave things as they are but I’ll make sure there’s someone watching you all the time. I don’t want any of the others attacking you.’

  ‘I can handle myself, Tom,’ Jasmine said, affronted that Tom was treating her like a defenceless girl.

  ‘I know Jas, but fighting doesn’t go with your image at the moment.’ He looked at her from her high heels to the fitted dress and the flowing wig. ‘You look fantastic by the way.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘It will either be me, Sasha or one of the uniform guys. Sloane will be here this afternoon, before we let any of the Belles leave.’

  ‘Good. Let’s hope we can solve this puzzle.’

  ‘Yeah. Are you going back to the bar?’

  ‘I think so, until people start to move into the wedding room. I think the rest of the Belles are getting dressed up at the moment.’

  Tom nodded. ‘I haven’t seen any of them out of their rooms since breakfast apart from Gerald Salter.’

  ‘He was getting everything ready for the ceremony. He’s gone to get dressed now.’

  ‘Right. I’ll let you go.’

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Prowling around and trying to look as if I’m busy. It’s up to you, Jas, to get a confession out of one of them.’

  Jasmine chuckled. ‘I’ll try. I’ve still no idea which of them it is though.’

  Tom opened the door and let her out.

  Jasmine returned to the lounge and saw two women at the bar, both obviously dressed for a wedding. One was facing her and Jasmine recognised her immediately. It was the woman who ran the wedding shop. Their eyes met and the woman opened her mouth to speak. Jasmine leapt to the bar and spoke before the woman could get her greeting out. ‘Hello, are you here for the wedding? I’m Sindy. I’m not from around here.’

  The woman looked surprised, then horrified, then recovered her composure. ‘Oh, how silly of me, I thought I recognised you but of course we haven’t met. I’m Wendy and this is my friend, Katie.’

  Jasmine turned to greet the other woman and was shocked to find she knew her too. It was Katie Kershaw, her electrolygist. She looked confused.

  ‘Hello, Katie. Can’t explain. I’m Sindy.’

  ‘Sindy?’ Katie said hesitantly and shook Jasmine’s proffered hand.

  ‘You’re both guests at Melody’s and Gerald’s wedding?’ Jasmine asked.

  ‘Yes, I fitted Melody’s wedding dress and the bridesmaids.’ Wendy replied and Jasmine recalled her mentioning just that when they had met on Friday evening.

  ‘All of them?’ Jasmine asked.

  ‘Yes, four in all. Would you like a drink?

  ‘No thanks. I had a coffee a short while ago.’

  Jasmine turned again to Katie. ‘And you Katie, you know Melody because . . .?’

  ‘I did her electrolysis when she was transitioning.’

  ‘Of course,’ Jasmine nodded.

  ‘We got to know each other well over the two years of the course,’ Katie continued, ‘and I still see her from time to time when she comes to have some re-growth seen to.’

  ‘But how do you two know each other?’

  Wendy replied. ‘Well, we’ve both had businesses in Kintbridge for quite a while, Sindy. We met originally at some event or other, I can’t remember what it was now, and we became friends. It is amazing how many of my brides and bridesmaids decide they need some excess hair seen to – waxing mainly. . .’

  ‘So Wendy sends them to me,’ Katie finished.

  Two glasses of wine were placed on the bar beside Wendy and Katie. Jasmine hoped they could engage in a normal conversation but two more guests arrived, Flamboyancé in her striking yellow pvc outfit and Robbie in a smart, light grey suit.

  ‘Oh, it’s Sindy,’ Flamboyancé said, with a slight emphasis on her name, ‘and who are these lovely ladies?’

  ‘Friends of Melody’s. Wendy designed her wedding dress,’ Jasmine replied.

  ‘Ooh, wonderful,’ Flamboyancé cooed as Wendy and Katie were introduced.

  Flamboyancé edged towards the bar. ‘Let’s get a drinkypoos, shall we Robbie?’

  Robbie stepped up and placed an order.

  ‘Wendy tells me there are four bridesmaids – all the other Belles,’ Jasmine said, ‘Why aren’t you one, Flamboyancé?’

  Flamboyance turned her heavily painted face to her. ‘Oh, I only want to be the bride not a bridesmaid standing in the background. Actually, Melody only invited the older guys, the ones who have been members of the Belles for far longer than me.’

  ‘Even Tammy?’ Jasmine said.

  ‘Even Tammy,’ Flamboyancé confirmed. ‘Let’s drink to the bride and, er, bride.’ She raised the glass that had been placed in front of her and took a large gulp. Jasmine wondered if Melody and Geraldine had not asked Freddie to be a bridesmaid for fear of being outshone by him.

  ‘I hope this murder thing isn’t going to put a damper on the celebrations,’ Flamboyancé went on. Wendy and Katie oohed and aahed and asked all about the investigation. Flamboyancé was happy to remain the centre of attention while passing on all the gossip. She said nothing that interested Jasmine however who continued to watch for other arrivals. A few other people, men and women, entered who were obviously part of the wedding rather than the Butterflies and DC Patel slipped in and stood beside a corner table, watching what was happening.

  Jasmine looked at her watch. It was past eleven thirty.

  ‘I think I’ll go along to the Pang Wing to see the guests as they arrive,’ Jasmine said to her companions.

  ‘Oh, yes. We don’t want to be late, do we?’ Wendy said.

  ‘There’s still time for another drink,’ Flamboyancé said, ‘but you go and do your watching, Sindy.’

  Jasmine ignored Flamboyancé’s subtle jibe and walked from the bar with Wendy and Katie.

  The wedding room was largely empty. Jasmine saw a woman in a navy-blue suit standing at a small table at the far end of the room looking at some sheets of paper. Jasmine presumed she was the Registrar. Sally Edwards was in her wheelchair, in the same position as during yesterday’s multiple wedding ceremonies, tapping at a computer on her lap.

  They were approached by a smartly suited man in his late thirties holding a pile of pamphlets.

  He greeted them, ‘Hello, are you with the bride or the . . . I mean are you with Melody or Geraldine?’

  ‘Both, I think,’ Jasmine said.

  ‘Melody,’ Wendy said.

  The man gave them each a copy of the order of service. ‘If you would like to sit on the left then.’ He pointed to the seats.

  ‘Which side are you on?’ Jasmine asked him.

  ‘Oh, I’m Melody’s brother, Andrew.’

  ‘Are more of your family coming?’ Jasmine asked.

  ‘Just our father. He’s giving Melody away. There isn’t anyone else really. Mother died a few years ago.’

  Jasmine was pleased that Melody’s family, such as it was, were supporting her in her preferred gender and in her marriage. She followed Wendy and Katie into the row four back from the front and sat in the chair by the aisle. The peaceful tones of Handel’s “Water Music” started playing quietly and Jasmine realised that Sally had taken their entry, as the first of the guests, as the signal to begin.

  Very soon a few other men and women arrived, some sitting on their side and others on G
erald’s. Jasmine didn’t recognise any of them and none were obviously trans so she assumed that if they weren’t family they must be friends from Melody and Gerald’s world outside the trans scene. She did recognise Belinda and her wife, Susan, when they came down the aisle apparently undecided which side to sit on. Both looked smart in contrasting dresses in green (Belinda) and pale blue (Susan). They plumped for Geraldine’s side and went into the row that Jasmine was in. As they sat down Belinda glanced to the side, caught Jasmine’s eye and hurriedly looked elsewhere.

  Then Emma Preston walked down the aisle and slipped into the second row on Gerald’s side. She didn’t speak to anyone and having sat down stared resolutely forward. Jasmine glanced at her watch. It was five minutes to twelve. Jasmine presumed that both brides and their attendants were carrying out last minute adjustments to their dress but after the show they put on yesterday she could not imagine quite what they would all look like. Another minute passed before Flamboyancé and Robbie appeared. There was some conversation that was loud enough to make Jasmine turn around to see what was happening. Flamboyancé was making sure her arrival was noted by talking loudly to Andrew and then she flounced down the aisle with Robbie beside her. She took a seat in the second row in front of Jasmine. Was there any significance in them choosing Melody’s side to Gerald’s? Jasmine could think of none. She glanced around again wondering when the brides would appear. She saw Tom and Sasha Patel slide into seats in the back row on opposite sides of the room.

  More seconds ticked by then Handel’s music faded. It was replaced by the familiar, bold and brassy, “Bridal March” by Mendelssohn. The guests stood up and the Registrar moved from the side to stand facing the congregation just in front of the six flower arrangements that Jasmine and Gerald had positioned. Like the other guests, Jasmine resisted looking around but could tell by the rustle of heavy cloth that one of the brides was approaching.

  When she drew level Jasmine saw that it was Geraldine. She was wearing a white satin gown, which flared out from the waist to the floor. The bodice enclosed her false breasts and an almost transparent net material covered her arms and upper chest. A veil covered her face. Behind her walked two bridesmaids side by side in identical mauve gowns that revealed no flesh but gave both the semblance of a figure. The bridesmaids were Petula and Donna. The bride carried a bouquet of red roses while the bridesmaids carried posies of mauve carnations.