Beth filed along the receiving line for the evening guests behind DS Thompson, wishing she could be anywhere other than where she was. It was bad enough they’d been sent to interview the bride on her wedding day, but to make things even worse, Thompson hadn’t listened when she’d tried to suggest they did everything they could to lessen the impact on the poor woman’s celebration.

The reception venue was a place she’d never been to before, but she knew of Farlam Hall’s reputation. It was the kind of high-end hotel which was out of her price range for all bar the most special of occasions. Picturesque and exclusive, it was an ideal place for a wedding reception provided your budget ran to tens of thousands. The marquee which dominated the garden would have cost six months of her salary and that was before you counted all the staff passing out champagne like it was water.

Beth saw the bride frown when she didn’t recognise them, witnessed the way she looked to her new husband and saw her blank look reflected on his face. True to form, Thompson didn’t allow the poor woman time to ask who they were before flashing his warrant card under her nose and introducing himself.

With the bride looking nonplussed by their presence, Beth hoped the insensitive Thompson would let her lead the questioning. It was bad enough that the bride had found a dead body at her wedding venue, to now have her reception interrupted by an oaf with all the sensitivity of a raging wasp would further ruin what was meant to be the happiest day of her life.

‘We’re terribly sorry to have to trouble you, today of all days, but I’m afraid the first few hours of a murder investigation are critical.’

‘Can’t this wait? I mean, we’re meeting our guests, for goodness’ sake.’

The bride laid a calming hand on her husband’s arm. ‘It’s okay, Jason. The police have to do their jobs, and if that really was a dead body… I need to tell them what I saw.’ She looked to Beth and Thompson and pointed over her shoulder at the main hotel. ‘There’s a room in there where we can talk, it’ll be more private than out here.’

As they followed the bride into a small library, a guest wearing a suit that matched the groom’s lurched towards them, his foot a mere three inches from the train of the bride’s gown, and stopped in front of Beth.

‘Hey gorgeous, what you doing later?’

‘Oh, let me check my diary. Ah yes, sorry, I’m rather busy avoiding men with alcohol on their breath and wedding rings on their finger.’ Beth kept her tone light, though she suspected the man might have made a different comment if he’d approached her from the left instead of the right and seen her scarred face.

She brushed past him and then closed the door as soon as Thompson had stepped through it.

‘As I said outside, we’re very sorry to have to trouble you.’

‘Don’t worry, I know you have jobs to do.’ The bride looked at her wrist even though there was no watch there. Just the faint outline of where one had been worn while she had sunned herself. ‘Just be as quick as you can, please.’

‘Of course we will.’

Beth surmised Thompson must have realised the disruption they were causing, and the bad press they could generate, as his tone was soft when he asked the bride a series of questions.

Rather than interrupt Thompson, she let him carry on until he’d exhausted his questions, then added a couple of her own.

---

When they’d finished interviewing the new Mrs Welton, and Thompson was driving them back to Arthuret Hall, Beth decided to share her thoughts on the witness. ‘Call me cynical, but I’m not sure I believed everything she said to us.’

‘Really, Constable.’ The way Thompson said her rank made Beth lose the few shreds of respect she had for him. ‘Were you not paying attention? That poor lass was fighting to hold it together. She’s seen a dead body on her wedding day and here you are, questioning her character as soon as we’re out of earshot. Let me tell you, Young Beth, if you want to succeed in FMIT, you’re going to have to become a much better judge of character in a very short space of time.’

‘With respect, sir, I was paying attention. I just think she wasn’t as distressed by the experience as she should have been. I mean, you saw the body. Saw how gross it was.’

‘I get it, you’re jealous that she’s tougher than you are. You need to drop it before you become tiresome.’

Beth fumed in her seat. It may have been self-preservation, a respect for Thompson’s rank and experience, if not the man himself, or some other factor she hadn’t yet worked out, but she didn’t respond. She knew her cheeks were glowing crimson and that just added to her humiliation. She wanted to protest further, to argue with the arrogant DS, but something made her keep silent.

Thompson drummed his fingers on the wheel and clicked his tongue as he drove. The few days she’d worked in FMIT were long enough for her to know it was his thinking tic. Her problem was, she didn’t know what he was thinking.

On the one hand, he could be reassessing what she’d said about the new Mrs Welton and realising he may be wrong.

Fat chance of that. A junior female officer would never be right in his eyes.

On the other, he may be preparing to tell O’Dowd she was useless, and that she had also been rude to one of the Weltons’ wedding guests, after being paid a compliment by them.

Another option was that he’d said his piece and would allow her to move forward with her career and learn from him and O’Dowd.

She felt that idea was even more ridiculous than expecting him to say she was right.