“Enter.”
The small, rounded man broke the silence and spoke for the first time. His voice is gruff and unpleasant, and it takes a moment for us to understand we are to enter. I stand to the side and let the others past. My mother blanks me, as usual, and manages to return to her old self and begins chatting complete nonsense once in the safety of the house. A man follows her, the one who sniggered at me. He looks at me as though for the first time and grins, apparently unable to look at my face. He is pushed through the door by another man, closely followed by another, both large and grumbling. The butler gestures for me to enter first, and as soon as I do the door is closed and we are standing all together in the spacious hallway.
No sounds can be heard, not even the now raging storm outside can disturb the century old dust from knight’s armour and typical portraits hanging on the walls. The portly man herds the small group into the drawing room. The drawing room contains many bookcases which in any film could mean that a secret passage way lay hidden behind. The room is lit by a few candles.
“Power cut,” the butler grunts. I don’t think much of him. I expect him to leave us now and for John to enter and tell us the reason for being called, and it’d better be good, I’m only doing this because he will be inheriting this estate soon and I’m sure he has a soft spot for me...at least he’s young, and he’s not that bad looking either actually…I could do worse.
My train of thought is disrupted by the presence of the butler. He does not leave and asks my mother to sit down in the seat. He continues to survey each of us, as though we have done something wrong. His eyes fall on me.
“Look…Mr…” I begin. I’ve had enough of this. And I’m not going to start beating around the bush at one in the morning.
“Inspector, Inspector Brown,” he corrects me. Well he is rude! Does he not know who I am? The most upcoming actress in …
With one glance the inspector silences my thoughts. He begins,
“Ladies and gentlemen. I have called you here tonight to help me in this investigation.
You are all associates of Dr John Black, or I should say, the late, Dr John Black…”
He pauses for effect and searches our faces for a reaction. Dead? John is dead? This must be a joke, surely! I know I must look bewildered but I try to calm myself. Mother lets out a squeak and she suddenly doesn’t seem so sure of herself. The two large men make a move towards the inspector. The inspector in turns just looks at us, accusingly, as though one of us had a part in John’s death. How did he die? Why? Who would want to hurt him? A rising star in his field of work as an archaeologist, with such a large estate ready to be inherited on his thirtieth birthday, all the women in the world, I know he had a few debts but still, with his fortune…
One of the large men wearing a dark suit opens his mouth in exclamation, the inspector cuts him short,
“He was murdered here in his home tonight. He had just returned after a recent excursion with his young colleague here, excavating in Peru I believe?” the inspector does not wait for an answer, and continues, sure of himself and the facts he has written in the notebook in his hand. “At only twenty nine years old, what could be the motive for murder?”
He turns on me and an eyebrow rises. All eyes are on me, I love attention but this is making me uncomfortable I should be allowed to go now I mean I have nothing to do with this what do I care about some rich boy’s death, we were only friends because mother had hopes of me marrying him. I could never stand him actually, he was so arrogant…
“Miss?”
Oh no. What could he want with me? Against my will I begin to panic but try not to show it. I must look calm and un-phased, a true actress…
“Miss…?” he asks again.
“Oh sorry, just this has come as a bit of a shock.”
Everyone watches as the young woman wipes a tear from her eye. She is wearing a long evening dress, frayed at the hem and low cut. Her face is heavily made up and her lips are bright, trashy red. She wrings her hands and looks at her feet before replying,
“Josephine, but you can call me Josie, Inspector,”
she pauses for a moment before adding cheerfully,
“Nice to meet you Inspector,” as she reaches for his hand. He complies with a cold smile.
“Surname?” he asks. I tell him, and I begin to feel light headed in the crowded room. Should I faint? Now that would be effective! Just so that they know I have nothing to do with this, and then they would let me go. I will clutch at the bookcase behind and collapse, perhaps I could get caught by one of those big men. Before I get a chance to perfect the technique in my mind, the old cook enters. The inspector offers her a seat beside my mother, to which my mother looks rather alarmed.
“Now really Inspector, I see no reason why I, or my daughter, should be kept here any longer! Tragedy as it is, we did not know this young man rather well, I knew his late uncle Sir Black but his nephew was always, well, a little odd, you could say. We stay here as guests at the mansion sometimes really but that is as far as our involvement here goes!” My mother finishes with a determined nod which makes the feathers in her evening hat quiver. Excitement creeps into my mother’s expression, and she seems hopeful as she asks carefully,
“Was there a will, by any chance?”
“Lady Patricia, unfortunately I am currently not at liberty to say, and this is surely not the time in any case. I plan to now question each of you, and I suggest you comply.” He emphasises his suggestion with a patronising smile. “At some point today you have all been here at the Tudor Mansion, therefore you are all suspects. Lady Patricia and her daughter are currently staying here and earlier had afternoon tea with the late John Black. His cook has also been present all of today and this evening, quietly going about her work. A colleague of John’s dropped by,” the inspector nods to the small, wiry man with bright orange hair which makes his head look as though it is on fire in the candle light he looks nervous and attempts a smile back, “and two old family friends, also paid a visit.” The last two men shift uncertainly, suggesting they were anything but good family friends to Dr John Black.
“With all this in mind, I have reason to believe the murderer is now present with us in the drawing room.”
There is a moment of awkward silence as no one knows what to say, the minds of the six suspects whirr as they try and displace the blame onto someone else. No one attempts to leave; they are rooted to the spot and will not be able to go until the mystery has been solved.
The inspector turns purposefully to Miss Josephine, who appears to have been sobbing quietly.
“Do you know any of the people in this room?”
I scan the room and look confused, I think I will act all innocent, which, of course, I am anyway…
“Well only my mother and the cook, there, actually, she used to be John’s nanny I believe,” My ploy to draw attention to the old cook doesn’t seem to work with the inspector. I am beginning to get annoyed. Time for a different tactic. “And of course there’s you, Inspector,” I wonder whether to bat my eyelashes but I get the impression it won’t work with this man. “And as much as I have enjoyed meeting you this evening, I cannot see how I can help you. I didn’t know John well and today was the first time I’ve seen him in a year.”
“Ten months, to be precise, Miss Josephine. The last time you met you argued, I believe, resulting in your months of no contact. Correct?”
This man is pompous, I can’t stand him. Of course he knows he is correct he doesn’t need me to confirm it! He stares at me with his penetrating eyes. He can’t know anything about me. I notice mother’s eyes are on me. How I can’t stand that woman, she’s just jealous of me. How can she say she is ashamed of me? Of me?! I, who have made something of my life! At least I haven’t been widowed three times, under suspicious circumstances, I might add! She has been running out of money recently actually. And now it is obvious that John was murdered for the large fortune left to his name by his old Uncle Black, unless he has been leading a double life and the money is all gone, in which case the murderer must be kicking himself! Or herself, I consider. I look again at the cook and mother. Yes, they are perfectly capable of murder. The cook, working here for years, with nothing to show for it. She could have easily poisoned his food easily, and run off with all the family heirlooms. I scan the old drawing room. We used to play here, me and John. We used to hide under the desk and pretend we were living in a cave. My stomach churns as I suddenly realise he is dead, and the last thing I said to him…
“I shall take that as a yes I am correct.” The inspector looks into his note book. “You argued because he did not agree of your choice of husband. He believed you were after the money. Your husband, Arthur Grange, died, one week after your marriage. Of course, a man of his age, it would have been considered perfectly natural for him to pass away. What was unusual, however, is why an attractive twenty one year old aspiring actress, would wish to marry a man old enough to be her grandfather.” He pauses, again already knowing the answer. I don’t know why he’s dragging all this up again, the old man dying after we married was a pure coincidence. “Ah, but of course. Arthur Grange was a millionaire. Plenty enough reason for you to marry him, especially after scandals about you and bad reviews for your latest performance.”
Well, you can’t blame a girl, and I can’t help smiling to myself. I realise I’ve let my cover slip and for a moment it feels as though the inspector can see everything, he knows all I have done. And trust me it’s more than one old man popping his clogs, conveniently leaving me his rather nice estate.
The inspector takes my silence as conformation.
“And yet he wished to call you here to stay the weekend, did he not? Was he wishing to make amends?” he asks. He writes a few notes in his notebook. The old cook is looking at me intently, she seems rather amused by this! I know I look uncomfortable and look to mum for help. She isn’t even looking at me. The colleague of John’s is examining the collection of antique books, no doubt hoping to obtain some now the owner has deceased. Then there’s the two men, one by the doorway and one by the window. They are both serious and silent, they have not been implicated in the murder, yet. One appears to be wearing a dog collar.
“Yes, John wanted to make amends, as you say.” I cannot hold the inspector’s gaze and for a moment the room and the figures blur. I think I am really going to faint.
“But you didn’t like John’s tone, his accusations, did you, Miss Josephine?”
The atmosphere is intense. The inspector stands confidently in his brown, plain suit. He is bald and there is nothing remarkable about his face, apart from the eyes. All attention is drawn to his eyes, unblinking, accusing, and lively. Miss Josephine squirms under the pressure, her talent for acting clearly not that wonderful.
“You were heard arguing with the late Dr in the lounge, which is just down the hallway. A candle stick was found on the floor beside the body. I believe you, Miss Josephine Scarlett, murdered Dr John Black in the lounge with the candlestick.”
“Let’s see if you’re right then,” Paul sighs. He can’t believe his sister has worked it out already, he’s not sure if she’s fully understood the rules of the game. He reaches for the small envelope in the centre of the board and pulls out the three cards.
“Ha! I win!” Paul exclaimed. “You got it wrong, it was actually Reverend Green in the Dining Room. You got the candlestick bit right though.”
