Murder of the Bride by C. S. Challinor Page A

Dimley’s notes that you live in Edinburgh and are visiting Ms. d’Arcy for the weekend. No personal connection to the family that lives here.”
    â€œNone whatsoever.”
    â€œLucky you’re here, isn’t it, sir? You being in the business of murder, as it were.”
    â€œMy profession isn’t usually described that way, but I suppose you’re right up to a point. I prosecute criminals who commit the most heinous of crimes, including murder.”
    â€œI was referring to your sleuthing activities, Mr. Graves. I read about your case down in Sussex with great interest. The article was in Private Detective . ”
    â€œI’m not familiar with the article,” Rex said, making a mental note to seek out a back issue of the publication forthwith. “But I’d be happy to help out here.”
    Helen shot him a raised eyebrow, as if to say, I just bet you would .
    â€œI’ll let Detectives Lucas and Dartford know. We’re a bit short-handed as you can see.”
    â€œI was wondering aboot that.”
    â€œWe’ve been investigating the latest in a string of burglaries north of here. We responded to this emergency as quickly as we could once arsenic trioxide poisoning was confirmed by the hospital, following your tip. DI Lucas has gone to inform Robert Carter of the death of Victoria Newcombe.”
    Helen gasped in shock. “She’s dead?”
    â€œI’m afraid so, ma’am. Did you know her well?”
    â€œHer daughter attended the school where I work. This was the first time I ever saw Victoria in a social capacity. How is Polly?”
    â€œI can only assume that she has survived the ordeal so far or else we would have been notified.”
    â€œShe’s expecting, you know. You must catch the monster that did this.”
    â€œI assure you we’ll do everything within our power, ma’am.”
    â€œCan I see your list of guests, PC …?” Rex asked.
    â€œPerrin, sir,” the constable replied, obliging him.
    â€œThanks. I only know some of these people by their first name.” Rex scanned the notes, filling in some of the blanks on the spiral pad he carried on him. Helen had bought him a voice recorder for Christmas but he didn’t trust it not to break down and omit to register his verbal notes. He returned the list, and the constable moved away and asked Dudley Thorpe for his car keys.
    â€œI didn’t nick anything,” Timmy’s twin objected. “And I don’t want anyone touching my Miata. I just waxed it.”
    â€œYou can accompany PC Dimley and myself, and watch while we perform the search,” the constable said amiably yet firmly, giving Dudley little option but to comply.
    â€œPolite young man, that constable,” Helen said as the trio moved toward the front door. “And pretty sharp. I don’t know why people have to react so abusively when the police are just trying to do their job. Oh, my God, that’s three deaths with Victoria. First the vicar, then Aunt Gwen. Now this. I wonder who will break the news to Polly.”
    â€œCarter doesn’t look like he’s up to it at present,” Rex remarked when he saw Carter emerge from the manor wing in the company of the freckly detective. Crumpled in upon himself, Polly’s uncle seemed to have aged ten years.
    â€œHopefully, the police will find those snuff boxes and we’ll learn who’s responsible for the murders,” Helen said with indignation. “They must be related.”
    â€œIf only it might be that simple.” Rex knew from experience that premeditated crimes rarely were.
    At that juncture he heard vehicles on the gravel outside, followed by a series of car doors slamming. A forensics team in white overalls trooped through the front entrance. They certainly had their work cut out for them, Rex reflected wryly.
    Arsenic, blood, skull fragments. A positive field day. And, despite a niggling