BODY AT THE WEDDING

  A cozy murder mystery novella

  A Muddlebay Mystery

  Book 2

  by

  Wendy Cartmell

  © Wendy Cartmell 2021

  Wendy Cartmell has asserted her rights under the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

  This is a work of fiction. References to real places, real people, events, establishments, organisations, or locations, are intended only to provide a sense of authentication, and are used fictitiously. All other characters, incidents and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.

  This kindle edition published 2021.

  By Wendy Cartmell

  Sgt Major Crane crime thrillers:

  Crane and Anderson crime thrillers:

  Emma Harrison mysteries

  Supernatural suspense

  All my books are in KINDLE UNLIMITED and available to purchase from Amazon by clicking the covers.

  Table of Contents

  By Wendy Cartmell

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Body on Show

  By Wendy Cartmell

  Chapter 1

  Finally, it was time. Melanie Twist took a deep breath and gathering up her skirts the best she could, she climbed into the vintage Rolls Royce, with her father close behind and the driver holding the door open. It took the three of them to bundle the yards of taffeta and netting into the car with her, before her father could slide into place next to her. Melanie was still breathing deeply, trying hard to control her nerves as the car pulled away from the Twist family home.

  ‘Alright, darling?’ her father asked.

  Not trusting her voice, Melanie nodded as the car serenely glided towards Muddlebay church and her wedding. She was about to become Mrs Harry Underwood, go on honeymoon to the Maldives and then return to live in the 1920’s art deco house Harry had bought for them, on the cliffs overlooking Muddlebay. As they neared the parish church, Melanie noticed that the car turned right instead of left. It was then she realised the driver was mumbling to himself.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she called.

  ‘Nothing, just traffic, that’s all,’ the driver said as he glanced over his shoulder. ‘Nothing to worry about. Just a short detour.’

  But Melanie had seen the earbuds in his ears and heard the mumblings as he drove. He was clearly speaking to someone on his iPhone. Someone who was giving him instructions.

  ‘Dad?’ she said. ‘Dad?’

  ‘It’s alright, love, don’t you fret. You are the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen, and Harry Underwood is a bloody lucky man. We’ll be at the church any minute, you’ll see.’

  But Melanie had seen the film of sweat on her father’s forehead. He was nervous too, she surmised. What the hell was going on? Then she noticed the car had failed to turn into the road where the church was. Again.

  ‘What the?’ Melanie looked left and right out of the car windows but couldn’t see any traffic jam or reason why they’d missed the turning to the church. Fear travelled up her spine and burst out of her mouth. ‘I think someone should tell me what the hell is going on!’

  DS Flynn Moran shifted in the church pew, wondering why they had to be so bloody uncomfortable. Hard, unforgiving wooden pews, with so much polish on them that Flynn was in danger of sliding off. A situation made worse by his shiny suit, that hadn’t seen the light of day since his mother’s funeral over a year ago.

  He turned to his companion. ‘Is this absolutely necessary, Mabel?’ he demanded in his usual forthright way. ‘There’s other things I’d much prefer doing than sitting waiting for a bride to parade up the aisle.’

  ‘Shush,’ Mabel Heggarty hissed. ‘I’m listening.’

  ‘Listening? To what? To whom?’

  ‘Shush!’ The long feathers of Mabel’s fascinator bobbed around her head as she spoke.

  Flynn flopped back onto the pew, banging his spine on the hard upright back in the process. He knew he was being churlish, but really, enough was enough. He glanced at his watch and noted that the bride was now 20 minutes late. Not that he knew her. Nor the groom. He was there as Mabel’s guest, as just for once, she’d explained, she’d like someone to go somewhere with, after being a widow for 10 years. And as Mabel, the local librarian, was his only friend in Muddlebay, he’d reluctantly agreed. Flynn squirmed in his seat, trying his best to get comfortable, to no avail.

  ‘There’s something wrong,’ Mabel mumbled.

  ‘Is the bride not coming?’ asked Flynn hopefully.

  ‘No, it’s not that. Word is she’s driving round and round the town.’

  ‘Why ever would she do that?’

  ‘Because the groom’s missing!’

  ‘Missing? From his own wedding?’

  ‘That’s what I’m hearing.’

  That was more like it, thought Flynn. Missing persons he could do. Weddings he couldn’t. He stood, intending to go to the group of suited and booted men at the front of the church and offer his services as the local detective. He was stopped by the banging of the church door as the bride barged through.

  A whirl of white stormed up the aisle, a veil covering her face, hands clad in fingerless lace gloves holding up her skirts. She stopped by one of the morning-suited men.

  ‘Where is he?’ she demanded. ‘What have you done with him? What the hell’s going on?’

  ‘Melanie!’ called a man running through the church. ‘Melanie, love, calm down.’

  ‘Calm down! Calm down!’ she screeched. ‘I’ve been jilted, stood up, whatever you want to call it, and you’re telling me to calm down!’

  Flynn was looking at a harridan. Muddlebay’s own Miss Havisham. Melanie’s face distorted with anger and grief.

  Turning to face the congregation, she spat, ‘I’m sorry about this folks, but it looks like I’ve been stood up. I guess that’s the end of that. I don’t know about you lot, but I need a bloody drink.’

  And with that, she stormed back down the aisle, flinging the door wide and rushing out. As the door banged shut with a crack that echoed around the church, the guests began to babble.

  That was it, Flynn decided. Enough was enough. Pulling Mabel after him, he escaped from the church via a side door.

  ‘Sorry, Mabel,’ he said once they were outside. ‘I just can’t cope with all this emotion and tears. I don’t really understand it. See what I mean?’ and he pointed to where Melanie was beating her father’s chest with her fists as she shouted and screamed and cried.

  ‘Oh well, I guess it’s over to the Royal Oak and see if I can find out what’s going on.’

  ‘Excellent, Mabel, and I’ll go back home. The last thing I want to do is go for a drink with a swarm of gossiping idiots. All this emotion is giving me a headache!’

  Chapter 2

  Flynn had just settled in his chair at home, after changing into a much more comfortable outfit of loose-fitting trousers and tweed jacket. His soft brushed cotton shirt was devoid of a tie and he was ready to read the weekly newspaper, the Muddlebay Recorder. In truth it was more adverts than news, for nothing really happened in Muddlebay. He’d just shaken the creases out of the newspaper, when he received a phone call.

  ‘Oh, hello, Flynn, it’s Sgt Fisher. Sorry to bother you on your day off and all, but we’ve had a call from a member of the public.’

  There was a strange pause, so much so that Flynn had to prompt, ‘And?’

  ‘Oh sorry, I’m still in shock because he said he’s come across a dead body.’

  ‘Name?’

  ‘I’ve no idea who the victim is.’

  ‘No, the name of the man who found him.’

  ‘Oh, Tyler. He says the body is dressed in a morning suit, but he couldn’t find a wallet.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘In his pockets.’

  ‘No, where’s the body.’

  ‘In the upstairs room at the Royal Oak.’

  ‘I’m on my way,’ said Flynn and replaced the receiver.

  Then he picked the phone back up and called Fisher back.

  When he answered the call Flynn just said, ‘Where’s the wedding reception?’

  ‘What reception? What are you talking about?’

  ‘Oh, never mind.’ Flynn finished the call and phoned Mabel. ‘Where’s the wedding reception,’ he said without any preamble.

  ‘Oh, that, at the Royal Oak in the function room up stairs.’

  ‘The one in the town centre?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right. Why?’

  ‘Because we’ve a body.’

  ‘Who? Where?’

  ‘No idea but it could be our missing groom as he’s upstairs in the function room.’

  ‘I’ll meet you there,’ said Mabel and this time it was Mabel who abruptly closed the call.

  Flynn grabbed his car keys and his ID off the side table next to the front door. He was very afraid that he might know who the victim was but wouldn’t be able to ID him. As the groom hadn’t appeared at the church, Flynn had no idea what he looked like. And as the body didn’t seem to have a wallet on him, Flynn needed his secret weapon at the ready. Mabel.

  Chapter 3

  All the ponderings took Flynn to the scene and he was pleased to see Jerome’s forensic van already in-situ. And there was the pathologist, Floyd, just getting ready by the open doors of his car.

  Flynn got out of his own vehicle, suited up and met the pathologist Dr Floyd Redman, a new appointment and a very welcome one, in place of the grumpy Dr Stride, who’d retired.

  ‘Hello, DS Moran,’ called Floyd.

  Flynn nodded and together they walked the short distance to the Royal Oak and upstairs to the body.

  ‘I think I know who the deceased might be,’ said Flynn.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The groom from the wedding.’

  Floyd still looked puzzled, so Flynn had to tell him about the wedding he had attended with Mabel earlier in the day. Or rather the non-wedding, as the groom hadn’t appeared.

  ‘So, you think this is him?’ Floyd nodded in the direction of the blue and white tape placed across the door to the function room, which was closed to keep the body out of sight of rubberneckers and guarded by a uniformed policeman.

  ‘Wouldn’t you? I understand he is dressed in a morning suit.’

  Floyd nodded, and said, ‘There’s only one way to find out,’ and they pushed open the door and went through to the function room.

  Constable Elgin was the policeman on duty at the entrance to the function suite and was logging all who came in and out. He called into the room, ‘Met, there’s some one here for you.’

  Flynn tried not to be too cross at the interruption, and at the use of his nickname. ‘Who is it?’ Flynn poked his head through the door.

  ‘Mabel Heggarty.’

  ‘Tell her to hang on, I’ll be out in a minute.’

  Flynn paused to take a picture of the face of their deceased man before leaving the function room. He pushed his hood off his head and removed his face mask before talking to Mabel.

  ‘Thanks for coming, Mabel. We have a body and no ID. But he is in a morning suit, so he must be from the wedding party.’

  ‘And you want me to take a look?’

  ‘Only at this photo.’

  ‘Oh, not the body?’

  ‘No, Mabel, not the body.’ Flynn said, somewhat perturbed that Mabel seemed to have great enthusiasm for seeing a real live dead body. Or rather a completely dead body. Or, whatever. He shook his head in frustration. ‘Now will you look at the photo?’ and he held out his mobile phone.

  Mabel nodded, then gasped, ‘Oh, it’s him!’

  ‘The groom?’

  ‘Yes, Harry Underwood. I wonder what happened?’

  ‘Well, it’s my job to find out, so if you don’t mind,’ and Flynn went to walk back into the room.

  ‘You’ll let me know tomorrow?’ Mabel called.

  ‘Of course, Mabel, I’ll see you in the morning.’

  ‘Lovely, thanks, Flynn.’

  Chapter 4

  Floyd looked up as Flynn walked back to the body. ‘Why do they call you Met?’ he asked.

  ‘It’s a long story and too boring for words.’

  ‘Oh, go on! I could do with a little light relief.’

  ‘OK the short version is that I used to work in the Metropolitan police, hence Met, now can I get on please?’

  He wasn’t sure what else he had to do, to be honest, but all the interruptions were rubbing him up the wrong way. ‘So, the cause of death is looking like sword through the body.’

  ‘Crickey you’re sharp today,’ said Floyd.

  ‘Thank you,’ replied Flynn, without a trace of sarcasm. ‘So, we’re looking at a classic who, what, when, where and why.’

  ‘I can sort out what and when, the rest is up to you.’

  ‘I was afraid you’d say that. Thanks, Floyd, see you later.’

  ‘You mean you’re leaving me alone? Thank God for that.’

  ‘Autopsy?’

  ‘Tomorrow afternoon. Goodbye,’ Floyd said pointedly and turned back to the body.

  Flynn got rid of his garb, walked out of the Royal Oak and sat in his Morris Traveller classic car, thinking for a moment or two. He needed insider knowledge of the families before he went to speak to them. And the only person he knew who could give that to him was Mabel.

  He arrived at Mabel’s just as she was pouring out a cup of tea. ‘Oh, hello,’ she said. ‘Come on in. I thought you might turn up, so I made a pot,’ and she poured him a welcome cup. ‘Now, what do you want to know, as I’m sure you’ve not just turned up to gossip.’

  ‘You thought right, Mabel. What can you tell me about our deceased groom, Harry Underwood?’

  ‘Early 30’s, local businessman, or wide boy, depending upon your point of view. He buys and sells stuff.’

  ‘A regular Del Boy, then.’

  That made Mabel smile.

  ‘Why are you smiling?’ demanded Flynn. ‘What have I said now?’

  ‘Never mind,’ chortled Mabel. ‘It’s nothing.’

  ‘Right then, where did Harry work?’

  ‘He worked out of a warehouse on the industrial estate, Underwood Wholesale.’

  ‘Ah, so he owns the company?’

  ‘Yes, as far as I know. He inherited it from his father who passed away about 5 years ago now.’

  ‘Are there any other relatives that you know of?’

  Mabel shook her head. ‘Not that I can recall. Perhaps a brother? Sorry, I’m not sure. But no one who lives in the area I’m definite about that.’

  ‘And what about the bride?’

  ‘Ah, the fair Melanie.’

  ‘Yes. Does she work?’

  ‘Not so you’d notice. She says she’s a model, but I think she just enjoys spending daddy’s money.’

  Flynn nodded. ‘And we were at the wedding because?’

  ‘Because Tony Twist wanted as many people there as possible, to see his wealth on show and to boost the numbers so it became the social event of the year.’

  ‘I thought as much. Where does the money come from?’

  ‘Gambling.’

  ‘Addict?’

  ‘No, he’s a bookie. Got outlets all over the area.’

  ‘And I gather he didn’t like Underwood.’

  ‘Not at all. But Melanie insisted. And what Melanie wants she usually gets.’

  ‘Do you think he’d want to get rid of Underwood?’

  ‘I’ve been mulling that over,’ she said slipping off her shoes. ‘Oh, my bunions hurt today,’ she massaged her feet much to Flynn’s consternation. ‘I don’t think so, because in doing that he’d potentially destroy his daughter. And the overriding thing in his life is Melanie’s happiness.’

  ‘That’s great information, thanks, Mabel.’

  ‘You’re welcome, but I need my bed now.’

  ‘Oh, right, yes,’ the thought had never occurred to Flynn that Mabel might be tired. ‘Are you free tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes, it’s my day off.’

  ‘Great, it’s a date then. I’ll pop over in the morning.’

  ‘Oh joy,’ said Mabel.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Oh joy, another case…’

  ‘Mmmm’ and Flynn left, pondering what on earth Mabel had meant by that remark.

  Chapter 5

  ‘Right, said Flynn as he bustled through Mabel’s front door the next morning. ‘First thing’s first. A timeline,’ and he marched into Mabel’s dining room, haphazardly cleared the table and laid out a long roll of paper he’d brought with him.

 

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