Murder of the Bride (18 page)

Happily Ever After

Donna Thorpe met Rex
at the door to
her house, a cardigan draped over her shoulders as though she might have been expecting him.
“Mr. Graves, how nice to see you again.” She looked abashed, and also guarded beneath the porch light. “Have you come about the ransom I tried to pull off ? I should never've involved you, but you seemed so kind and sympathetic when you came round earlier that I decided to turn to you, thinking you would help.”

Rex felt significantly less sympathetic now. “I've come aboot something more serious. Are your boys home?”

“They're at my mum's.”

“And your husband?”

“At Mabel's house with the police. She'll probably be sent to Foston Hall Prison,
for life.”

“Does that not make you feel just a wee bit guilty?”

“Why should it?”

“Listen, Madonna—”

“Don't call me that! I hate it.”

“That's what Mr. Newcombe knew you by though, isn't it? And that's how you signed your note to him:
M
. The game's up, Donna. Why don't you tell me in your own words how you came up with such a clever plan to murder the Newcombe family.”

Donna's eyes glowed. “It was a clever plan, wasn't it? And clever of you to suss it out.”

“I almost didn't.” Luckily, Meredith had inadvertently reverted to Donna's full name, causing the penny to drop. How could he have been so blind? Well, Donna was a skillful liar and an accomplished actress, that's how.

The killer drew the front door closed behind her and huddled under her cardigan. She was not going to invite him inside, but she seemed ready to talk. And he was ready to listen. “When you turned up at my house today looking for answers, I saw a way to frame my husband for the Newcombe murders. For your benefit, I gave him a motive—the gambling debts; means—arsenic; and opportunity—his absence from home this morning. But ultimately Mabel did just as well, and my boys get to keep their dad. Lucky her name begins with
M
too!

“I knew the truth about Polly's baby. A gossip at the pub saw my husband and Polly together. Then, after I first found the cancelled check to Dr. Forspaniak—the one I showed you, and which I knew you'd follow up on, as I had—I put two and two together. One more reason for Dud to get rid of Polly, before the truth came out.

“I snuck out of the house this morning while Dud was out and the boys were at my mum's making the fairy cakes. Borrowing her car, I drove to Newcombe Court. I didn't know what I was going to do with the arsenic at that point but, once again, luck was on my side. No one was in the kitchen and the top tier of the cake hadn't been iced yet. The white icing was still in the mixing bowl.

“My mother-in-law kept an old unused prescription of Trisenox in her sideboard—the stuff the police found. She hoards everything. A few months ago she noticed ampoules were missing and, ever paranoid, must have thought someone might try to poison her or her precious Timmy, so she put a small dose in their morning tea to build up a tolerance and immediately washed out the cups so the cat wouldn't get at it. She never reported the theft to the police. I monitored how much she was using. Timmy showed all the classic symptoms of chronic arsenic poisoning. I wasn't sure how diluted the injectable Trisenox was and I had to be sure it was a fatal dose.

“I sent Tom Newcombe the newspaper clipping announcing his daughter's engagement. My mom kept in touch with Tereza, Polly's nanny, after she returned to Romania. Tereza minded me from time to time with Polly, and my mum sometimes looked after Polly when the nanny had her days off. I hated Mrs. Newcombe for firing her. Polly and I drifted apart over the years, and she outright ignored me after I married Dudley. I realize now she must have always fancied him.

“Anyway, I told Mr. Newcombe how wonderful it would be for him to surprise his daughter on her wedding day. Victoria would forgive him after all these years. She could finally marry Bobby Carter! I didn't think he would bring my note. I had arranged to meet him at Worley Station and came armed with one of Mabel's hat pins. I slipped back to Newcombe later and spied Aunt Gwen through the window refusing the cake. I remembered her from when I used to play at Newcombe Court with Polly. I left a note on the bartender's tray when he was getting ice in the kitchen. A brunette in a silver dress saw me, but nothing came of it, as I was bundled up in a hooded jacket and she probably couldn't give a helpful description. The DJ was busy working on one of his speakers.

“While everyone was toasting the happy pair, I went to the top of the tower and waited for Polly's aunt. I used the hat pin to force her over the edge—wasn't difficult as Gwen was tipsy and woozy from her climb.”

Rex nodded pensively. “I was on the right track, but thought at first your mother-in-law had executed the plan. She must have panicked and hidden the crumbs in the dovecote when she realized arsenic had been put in the cake, and she'd be blamed if the poison was traced back to her house. I suppose she got rid of the bride and groom figures for the same reason.”

“I really would have liked to have got rid of the whole rotten lot of Newcombes,” Donna said with grim wistfulness. “Timmy would have inherited the money, and Dud would have been able to finagle what he needed out of him. When Polly's baby is out of intensive care, Dud wants us to bring it up with our own two, if she's too sick to look after it. That's what he told me on the phone. The nerve!” She sniffed in derision. “Of course, he has no clue what I did and has always said his mother was bonkers.”

“And so many accidents can befall a baby, isn't that right, Donna?”

“I wouldn't hurt him now everybody knows he's Dudley's. He's the ticket out of our financial mess, more than Timmy.”

“You won't have financial concerns where you're going. Her Majesty's Prison Service will provide adequately for you.”

“You're going to turn me in, then?” Donna slumped into a sitting position on the doorstep. “Well, of course you are. But I'm almost too tired to care.”

“I called Detective Lucas on my way here. Why, Donna?”

She stared out over the square of damp grass beyond her porch to the glistening road and row of uninspiring houses on the other side. “My wedding was a fairytale. It was perfect, every girl's dream. And then it ended. I spent my time planning the
getting
married part and didn't give enough thought to the
being
married part. I should've listened to my mom. Polly carrying my husband's child down the aisle was the final straw.”

“‘Those whom God has joined together, let no one put asunder,'” Rex murmured as a police siren replaced the memory of a joyful peal of bells heard at All Saints' Church earlier that day.

An inauspicious day, as Rex had rightly predicted.

The End

About the Author

Born in Bloomington, Indiana, and now living permanently in Florida, C. S. Challinor was educated in Scotland and England, and holds a joint honors degree in Latin and French from the University of Kent, Canterbury, as well as a diploma in Russian from the Pushkin Institute in Moscow. She has traveled extensively and enjoys discovering new territory for her novels.