Read Online Murder of the Bride by C. S. Challinor - Free Book Online Page B

said she received the first slice from the second tier, followed by her parents. “The top heart was all gone,” she explained.
    â€œI had seconds,” Reggie told Rex. “Jeremy did too, didn’t you, mate? We were served from the bottom tier.”
    â€œThere was loads left,” Jeremy said apologetically.
    â€œMs. Pembleton, did you have some cake?” Rex inquired.
    â€œYes. So did Lydia and Rachel. After everyone was served, Mrs. Newcombe offered the staff and DJ a slice.”
    Rex turned to Bobby Carter. “ Quod erat demonstrandum . ”
    â€œThe top layer of cake, hmm? You may have something there.”
    Especially since the miniature bride and groom seem to have vanished, Rex thought. “Where is Aunt Gwen?” he asked Carter.
    Nonplussed, Carter shrugged his shoulders. “Haven’t seen her since … I don’t rightly recall, but I think it was at the cake-cutting. She wasn’t in the tower when I went up to see where the ambulance had got to. Too wet for a stroll in the garden …” He turned to the group in the hall. “Mrs. Gwendolyn Jones from Wales. Short, plumpish woman in a mauve dress. Anyone seen her?”
    Nobody had, and the solicitor took off to look for her.
    â€œWhat do we do now?” a shrill voice demanded from the crowd.
    Rex saw the voice belonged to Amber’s mother, the shrewish blonde in the sage green suit. “I suggest we make ourselves as comfortable as possible while we wait for the police.”
    â€œI don’t want to wait,” the woman objected. “Why can’t we leave our names and phone numbers? The police can then contact us at their leisure.”
    Murmurs of agreement arose from the guests.
    â€œI don’t think the police will be treating the poisoning in a leisurely manner, Mrs …?”
    â€œJocelyn Willington. My husband is Timmy Thorpe’s boss.”
    â€œSo we’re saying someone deliberately poisoned the cake?” DJ S moothie spoke for the first time, sitting forward in his seat, gym-sculpted biceps bulging from black T-shirt holes as he rested his elbows on the knees of frayed jeans. “I mean, you don’t usually get that sick from eating cake, not from just one slice. Usually it’s chicken or eggs or summat like that.” Rex noted the DJ’s broad Derbyshire dialect, acutely at odds with the Elvis Presley hair.
    â€œNothing has been confirmed yet, but process of elimination points to the cake.” And, Rex thought, the onset of symptoms occurred within half an hour of its consumption, which would be about right for acute arsenic poisoning.
    The DJ tugged at his dark locks. “Just my bleeding luck. We’ll be here all day and I have another gig later.”
    Rex turned his attention back to Mrs. Willington. “It will make their job harder if we all take off home and the police have to track us down individually. And I’m sure we all feel we owe it to our hostess, who invited us here to celebrate her daughter’s wedding, to get to the bottom of this.” Ms. Willington’s sourly pursed lips conveyed she did not feel she owed Victoria Newcombe this huge imposition on her time, though she said nothing. “So perhaps we could confine ourselves to the hall and continue to keep calm,” he suggested.
    Any possibility of calm was shattered when Bobby Carter burst into the hall from the door to the caterers’ wing. “Mr. Graves,” he declared. “We need to get the police here at once! Victoria’s collection of antique snuff boxes has gone missing from the upstairs study and Aunt Gwen is nowhere to be found in the house.”
    What else could possibly go wrong at a wedding, Rex wondered?

Evil Tidings
    Rex wasn’t too concerned about missing snuff boxes at this point. However, upon reflection, it might conceivably shed light on the poisoning. He asked Carter to explain about the alleged theft, and