The Cold Light of Mourning - By Elizabeth J. Duncan Page 0,30
Year.”
Davies nodded as Morgan snapped her notebook shut.
“Right, then, you’ll be around if we need you again, will you?” Morgan asked. The girls nodded and the police officers thanked them and left.
In the hallway, Morgan stopped and looked at the photo again.
“What is it?” Davies asked.
Morgan shook her head.
“I thought you had to be a member of the royal family to get your picture taken looking like that. She must really be something.”
Anne and Jennifer began to tidy up their room. “Jenn, I want to get out of here. I think we should ring the Hall and see if we can go over there. If they haven’t had dinner yet, maybe we can wangle an invitation and if not, maybe Emyr and David would like to go out someplace quiet, to get away from all this.”
As they made their way to Meg Wynne’s room, where the manager was waiting to let them in, Morgan wrapped up a phone call and turned to her boss.
“That was Durham Constabulary, sir. Thompson’s known to them. Got form and lots of it. Mostly bar brawls and domestics going back a long way.”
After thanking the manager for letting them in, they began their preliminary examination of the missing bride’s room.
“This is an odd case,” said Morgan as she gently rummaged through the cosmetics bag on top of the dresser. “It doesn’t feel right. There isn’t enough evidence to classify it as other than a missing person, but there’s something very wrong, and I can’t help but think that we should be treating this room as we would a crime scene. Get the scene-of-crime officers in to document and photograph everything.”
“You might be right, Sergeant, but for now she’s just missing.” He looked around the room. “Still, we don’t want anyone coming in here. I’ll have a word with the manager, and we’ll seal this room. Nothing in, nothing out. We’ll give it a really good going over in the morning.”
Morgan moved away from the dresser, toward the closet.
“Sir, I wonder if I should have a closer look at her dress. It might be helpful later if we knew exactly what was here. We should also have it out just to check and make sure there’s nothing behind it in the closet, or that nothing’s fallen down, don’t you think? Something we’ve overlooked.”
Davies gave her a conspiratorial smile.
“All right, Bethan. Go on, then. Purely for the investigation, you understand,” he said, shaking his head lightly.
“Of course, sir!”
Morgan removed the garment, encased in its heavy transparent plastic bag, from the closet and laid it tenderly on the bed. As she slowly pulled the zipper down, the gown was revealed as a masterpiece of contemporary dress design.
She looked at the label, and gasped.
“Oh my God, it’s by Suzanne Glenton. I’ve read about these, but never dreamed I would actually get to see one. Look at the elegance of it.”
In the palest of ivory, with a beaded bodice, it was a strapless confection worthy of a princess.
Morgan gave a little shudder and looked up at her boss. The excitement of being so close to something so utterly beautiful had been replaced by a chilling thought.
“I can tell you one thing for sure. Seeing this dress makes me think that Meg Wynne did not choose to miss her wedding. What woman would pass up the opportunity to wear this dress, I ask you?”
Davies’s eyes narrowed slightly and he nodded.
“And there’s something else,” Morgan continued, gazing down at the dress. “We need to determine what jewellery she had, and where it is now. We have to make sure all the important stuff’s accounted for.”
Davies looked at his watch and nodded again.
“Good work. Well, leave the dress on the bed, and let’s get the tape and seal this room. I’ll leave word for the manager that no one is to enter until we come back in the morning. Of course, there’s still a chance, I suppose, that she could come back.
“Still, we should brief the press office, and get that side of things moving. And before you leave Llanelen, could you ask uniform to let us know where the CCTV cameras are and get the tapes to us in the morning?”
With one last look at the dress, Morgan turned to go.
“Would you like to get a coffee before the drive home?” Davies asked.
“No, better not, thanks, sir,” Morgan replied. “It’s getting on and I’ve still got lots to do. I’d really been looking forward to an early night,” she added wistfully.