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

premonition that morning, the worst he had dreaded was disco-dancing and boredom.
    Nothing could have been further from the truth.

Ducks in a Row
    After conferring with the head of the crime scene detail, Detective Inspector Lucas wandered over to Rex and stuck out a speckled hand. “Your reputation precedes you,” he said. Up close, the freckles on his clean-shaven face merged in places to form patches of orange, matching his hair.
    â€œThank you,” Rex said, pleased that the inspector had sought him out of his own volition. “How are you getting on with the burglaries young Perrin said you were pursuing?”
    â€œThere are, admittedly, peculiar difficulties with regard to the crimes.”
    â€œSuch as?” Rex inquired politely.
    â€œNo ruddy evidence. These burglars are pros. No one sees ’em coming or going. There’s never any evidence of a break-in, never any mess. We thought the state of the economy was driving some of these wealthy people to commit insurance fraud and claim on items that had never been stolen in the first place, but that doesn’t appear to be the case. A flat screen TV fitting the owner’s description, down to a tiny scratch in the plasma, turned up at a pawn shop in Nottingham. But so far we’ve been unable to get a lead on the individual who received cash for the item.”
    â€œYou think the theft at Newcombe Court may be related?”
    â€œNot sure. Two burglaries in two days hasn’t happened before.” The inspector rattled something in his pocket; a tube of Smarties or Tic Tacs? “And only the antique snuff box collection seems to have been taken here. Why not the TVs and paintings? Some of them are worth a bob or two. Course, moving the big stuff unobserved at a wedding reception would be well-nigh impossible. Perhaps they were waiting until later to finish the job. We’re searching the residence and vehicles right now. You arrived when today?”
    â€œIn time for the church service in Aston. My fiancée and I, and two of the guests, came straight here afterwards with everyone else.”
    â€œDid you notice anything unusual at the reception?”
    â€œNothing, until Polly collapsed.”
    â€œI take it you were the first person Jocelyn Willington notified about Mrs. Jones’ death?” The inspector leveled shrewd blue eyes at Rex, taking his measure.
    â€œThe constable was busy with the poisoning and theft. I did suggest she speak to him.” Wanting to keep a few cards up his sleeve, Rex decided not to mention yet to the inspector that the DJ had seen Roger Litton go up the tower steps with Gwendolyn Jones. And he doubted DJ Smoothie would volunteer the information himself and risk being detained any longer than necessary. He made a mental note to talk to the teacher next, to see if there was any truth in what the DJ had said.
    â€œWell, first things first,” the inspector said. “When Polly Newcombe collapsed, what was your first reaction?”
    â€œI thought her contractions had begun. Then, when her mother and the vicar succumbed to similar symptoms, I knew it had to be poisoning of some kind.”
    â€œWere you able to pinpoint the source of the poisoning?”
    â€œI suspect it was the wedding cake.”
    â€œBased on?”
    â€œFor one thing, after the ambulance took the three victims away, I returned to the reception room, and the miniature figures of the bride and groom had been removed from the top tier, which makes me think someone might have tampered with the evidence during my absence.”
    â€œSOCO will bag up samples.”
    â€œI doubt that will reveal much. The crumbs are gone from the top tier and the foil base was probably replaced.”
    â€œYou believe the arsenic was confined to the top tier?” That unnerving dry rattle again in the inspector’s pocket, which Rex found peculiarly distracting.
    â€œThe bride, mother, and vicar were served