Page 19 of The Bridesmaid

‘Not necessarily a man,’ says Fitzwilliam. ‘Adrianna’s kidnapper wore a full-face mask and cloak.’ He takes a breath, and glances at Ortiz, who bears the steady annoyance of a senior woman used to being overlooked for the nearest white male. She raises her eyebrows at him, very slightly, and Fitzwilliam’s mouth closes.

‘Could it be a copycat?’ I suggest. ‘Adrianna’s kidnap was widely publicized, right?’

Ortiz shakes her head. ‘Not all the details,’ she says. ‘No regular member of the public would have known about the kidnapper’s obsession with the number three. Or the ritualistic elements. These cases have a lot more in common than we first thought,’ she continues. ‘And at this stage we have reason to believe you might be correct, Mr Li. Whoever held Adrianna captive three years ago has returned to murder her bridesmaid.’

There’s a loaded silence.

‘I’m told you have a theory, Miss Stone,’ continues Ortiz, ‘about the body temperature?’

My eyes slide between them. I’m not used to working directly with cops. I tuck blue strands of hair behind my ears.

‘Body temperature drops by an average of 1.5 degrees an hour for the first twelve hours after death,’ I say. No one counters this, so I plunge on. ‘Based on that numeric, I’d expect the deceased to have a rectal reading of approximately 80 degrees.’ I see Fitzwilliam twitch at the word ‘rectal’ and work hard not to roll my eyes. ‘Theforensic report registered the body at 70 degrees. Ten degrees lower than the likely range. Particularly given the warm weather we’ve had.’

I pause to let them digest this.

‘That would leave two possibilities,’ I continue. ‘The first is that Simone died earlier than first assumed.’

‘Not possible given the number of people who saw Simone alive the night before her death,’ fills in Ortiz.

I nod. ‘I thought the same. Which only leaves the second option. Simone’s body must have been moved from someplace cooler.’

Chapter Sixteen

HOLLY

We’re all silent, absorbing my theory that Simone’s body was somehow moved, unseen, into the ballroom. Mr Cohen’s face shows scandalized horror and pensive thought. Fitzwilliam speaks first.

‘That’s simply nonsense,’ he says. ‘This is one of the finest hotels in the world. Are you seriously suggesting someone dragged a battered corpse through the corridors and no one saw?’

Ortiz frowns. ‘What makes you so sure, Holly? We checked all the footage and interviewed staff. Simone’s corpse was 115 pounds dead weight. You can’t just throw that over your shoulder and walk in.’

‘True,’ I admit. ‘But the body temperature says different. And Simone wasn’t the only dead weight in this room.’ I point to the dresses. ‘Those wedding gowns must weigh twenty pounds at least. How were they transported inside the ballroom?’

‘Couture dressmakers provide their own rolling storage containers,’ explains Mr Cohen.

‘Large boxes, capable of transporting heavy loads,’ I confirm. ‘What time did they get wheeled in?’

Mr Cohen thinks. ‘My staff would have transported them in, at six a.m. on the day of the demo.’

Fitzwilliam and I exchange glances. Surprisingly for a person handed his whole life on a silver platter, he looks to have figured it out too.

‘You think Simone’s body could have been wheeled in here, inside the dress container?’

‘It would explain how the body temperature was off,’ I agree. ‘Simone was killed somewhere else, her body put in along with the dress, then transported to here. If it was a member of Plaza staff, they wouldn’t even have had to know what they were moving.’

Ortiz’s eyes settle on me in something like dawning respect.

‘OK,’ she says, turning to Mr Cohen. ‘Where would the dress have been prior to being moved here?’

‘We have a large storage room,’ explains Mr Cohen.

Ortiz is already moving toward the door. ‘Can we see it?’

‘Certainly.’ Mr Cohen hitches a key card from a chain on his belt and gestures for us to follow. ‘It’s just this way.’

We exit the back of the Plaza ballroom, make a couple of turns, then stop outside a set of wide double doors.

Mr Cohen flashes his key card, and pushes the handle.