by VL McBeath
“Nonsense, a little top-up won’t do you any harm.” Rosamund stood up and took Eliza and Connie’s glasses from them. “Now, don’t go telling Betty any secrets while I’m away. I’ll be back in two ticks.”
Betty’s face was like thunder as Rosamund left.
“Have you known Rosamund long?” Eliza asked when Rosamund showed no immediate signs of returning.
“Long enough.” The same unreadable expression had settled in Betty’s eyes as she watched Rosamund pour three glasses of wine.
“She probably couldn’t carry four glasses.” Eliza forced a smile as she nodded towards Betty’s glass.
“Yes, you’re right. I’ll go and help her.”
Before Eliza could respond, Betty had gone.
“Good grief. What’s that all about?” Connie asked once Betty was out of earshot.
Eliza shrugged. “I get the distinct impression that she’s not happy we’re here. I suspect she’d rather have Rosamund to herself, which could explain why she doesn’t want her asking about the sleuthing.”
Connie straightened her back. “How silly.”
Eliza gave her a sideways glance. “Because you’d never do anything like that?”
“That was different.” Connie wore a look of indignation that Eliza always found amusing. “All right, so maybe I wasn’t being myself when Mrs Hartley was in Moreton, but I wasn’t behaving as badly as Betty.”
A frown settled on Connie’s forehead and Eliza followed her gaze as Rosamund hurried from the drinks table to disturb the conversation between Archie and Mr McRae. With little preamble, she ushered Mr McRae into the hall leaving Betty alone peering at the door as if willing herself to see through it. Moments later the two of them returned, only for Mr McRae to escort Betty from the room.
“I’m sorry about that.” Rosamund handed Eliza and Connie a glass as she rejoined them. “Betty wasn’t feeling well and so I asked Cameron to help her to the front door for some fresh air. She really can’t take her wine.”
“What a shame,” Connie said. “I thought she’d gone rather quiet. Will they join us for luncheon?”
“Oh, I imagine so.” The smile disappeared from Rosamund’s face. “In fact, it’s about time we took our seats in the dining room. Bring your drinks with you.”
By the time they’d walked back down the hall to the room with the bay window, Betty and Mr McRae were hovering around the long rectangular table.
“Ros, what were you thinking when you did the place settings? You’ve sat me in the middle of the table.”
“I’m sorry, dear, but we have to give the seats of honour to our guests. You know that.”
“That should mean Dr Thomson and Mr Bell sit next to you, but you have Mrs Thomson instead. It’s all wrong.”
“Eliza, will you excuse me a moment?” Rosamund moved around the table and took Betty by the arm, ushering her into the hall. A moment later, she was back. “There, that’s all sorted out. We always have to rearrange the seating plan when we have an uneven number of men and women and Betty just doesn’t like change. Now, will you all take your seats?”
Eliza sat to Rosamund’s right-hand side with Betty’s husband, Mr McRae, to her left and Archie and Connie opposite.
“This is all looking very nice, Rosamund.” She indicated towards the centre of the table and the decorations of winter leaves and berries.
“Betty and I did the arrangements, didn’t we, dear?” She smiled at Betty, who had silently followed her back into the room and taken her place next to Archie. “It took us most of yesterday afternoon. You should have seen my hands after tying those pieces of pine together.”
“Well, I’m sure it was worth it and I imagine you’ll be able to use them at Christmas too if you put them outside to keep.”
“That’s exactly what I’m hoping, although it will need to snow for it to be cold enough. I have my son and daughter visiting for the day. My son works in the city and my daughter married a banker, and so I only get to see them on special occasions. I must admit I’m rather looking forward to it.”
“And they enjoy coming here, too,” Mr McRae said. “She spoils them with kindness.”
“I’m sure I don’t. I’m only doing what every mother does. I imagine you treat your son, too, don’t you, Eliza?”
Eliza rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t know he’s born with the allowance Archie gives him while he’s at university. Hopefully, it will be worth it and one day he’ll start spoiling me.” She leaned back from the table as a plate of meat, beef it looked like under the thick gravy, was placed in front of her.
“The potatoes and vegetables won’t be long,” Rosamund said. “We’ll have to serve ourselves, I’m afraid. I’ve given one of the maids the afternoon off to spend time with her family before Christmas. I hope you don’t mind?”
“No, of course not. That’s very generous of you. I’m sure the maid was thrilled.”
“Well, these poor mites don’t get home very often and so I said one could go today and the other will disappear on Boxing Day. I thought it was only fair.”
“My cook and maid were delighted that we’re spending Christmas here this year. They’ve been able to go home for a whole week. I’ve just asked them to get back to the house a day earlier than us so they can sort out the food, put the fires on and clear the dust away.”
“What a treat for them; I honestly don’t think I could do that. Everyone always comes here for Christmas and we wouldn’t have it any other way.”
They ate most of the meal in silence but as Eliza placed her knife and fork on her empty plate, Rosamund put a hand on her arm.
“I think it’s time I let you into my little secret.” Rosamund was clearly struggling to keep the excitement from her face.
“What secret?”
“The reason I was so keen to hear about your sleuthing methods. In fact, let me tell everyone together.” She stood up and clapped her hands to silence the conversations. “Can I have your attention? As you’re aware, we’re having the family here for Christmas and so I thought it would be good fun to have some parlour games planned for Christmas evening. I was just finalising my selections when I heard that Mrs Thomson would be here for the week.”
Eliza glanced at Archie. “What have I got to do with parlour games?”
“Don’t you see? One of my favourite pastimes when I was a child was Murder in the Dark. Once I knew you’d be here, I wanted to learn your techniques so that I could play the detective.”
Eliza breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, I see. Well, I’m sure there’s not much to it. You just need to be observant when the lights are turned back on, take note of who’s standing where and then ask a few questions.”
“But what sort of questions? That’s what I’m struggling with and so I developed a plan. With it being the middle of winter, it will be dark by the time we’ve eaten dessert and so I thought we could have a game while you’re here.”
The heat rose in Eliza’s cheeks. “You want me to play the detective?”
Rosamund laughed. “No, not at all, although the thought did occur to me before I had a better idea.” Rosamund clapped her hands together under her chin. “I know that normally when you’re playing Murder in the Dark everyone is dealt a hand of cards to show who’ll be the detective, policeman and murder victim, but–” she paused to study her guests “–I wonder if you’d mind me being the detective.”
Eliza glanced around the table to see if anyone was likely to burst Rosamund’s bubble. How can they argue with such childlike joy?
“I’m sure we’d be delighted for you, my dear,” Mr Cranford said.
“Marvellous! That way, when we play on Christmas night with the family, I’ll have a head start.”
“Except for Mr Cranford,” Connie said.
The smile faded from Rosamund’s lips as she turned to Connie. “What do you mean?”
“Well, presumably he’ll be playing the game today and so he’ll pick up a few tips too.”
Rosamund shook her head. “No, that’s absurd. You wouldn’t dare, would you, dear?”
Mr Cranford smiled from the other end of the table. “Always do as I’m told, my dear. If you want me to play deaf, just let me know.”
The smile returned to Rosamund’s lips. “There, that was sorted out easily enough. Now, let’s get this dessert eaten, and the port and mince pies served, and then we can start.”
Chapter Four
There was a chill in the air when the party returned to the drawing room, but a maid had pulled the heavy velvet curtains across the windows and was loading more coal onto the fire. Within minutes, the flames were crackling and flickering in the grate as the wind howled down the chimney. The girl had clearly been told about the game ahead of the guests, because she’d extinguished the candles on the tree and pushed the occasional tables and chairs back to the walls. After a moment’s confusion, the ladies wandered to the chairs closest to the fire, while the men stood together in the centre of the room.
No sooner had they settled than Rosamund breezed into the room, holding up a packet of playing cards. “Gentlemen, will you join the ladies over here so we can decide the rules we want to play by?”
Mr Cranford smiled at his wife. “I imagine you already have your own ideas, my dear. Why don’t you just tell us all what you’d like us to do?”
Rosamund tittered. “Well, if you’re sure you don’t mind.” When there were no objections, she continued. “I presume you’re all familiar with the game. The first thing we need to do is sort out who’ll be the murderer and who’ll be the policeman. I’ve taken the liberty of taking all the jokers, aces, kings and jacks from the pack.” She fanned out the cards to show them around the guests. “I’ve added back in the ace of spades and king of hearts, and as per the usual rules, whoever has the ace will be the murderer and the policeman will be the one with the king.”
“Don’t you want Eliza to have the king so she can help you?” Connie asked.
Rosamund’s eyes lit up. “What a wonderful idea. The policeman is usually only there to keep the suspects in order while the detective is busy, but we can change the rules so that Mrs Thomson can help me.”
“Rosamund!” Betty’s tone was brusque. “You’re perfectly capable of working out the killer by yourself, you don’t need help.”
Rosamund grinned at Eliza. “Oh, but it would be so much more fun to have both of us doing it. Don’t you think so, Eliza?”
Eliza shrugged. “I don’t mind either way.”
“Of course you do, you’re just being polite. Take no notice of Betty. I’ve decided I’d like you to be the policeman so let me get rid of this king from the cards.”
Connie’s brow remained creased. “What happens if the murderer accidentally murders you, Rosamund? Normally, the person with the king would become the detective, but I suppose that defeats the purpose of the game.”
“Well spotted, Connie.” Rosamund beamed at her. “I had wondered about that and decided that if I am murdered, we should start again. After all, I can’t keep you here all night until I get my chance to play detective.”
The polite sound of laughter echoed around the room.
“No, you can’t,” Mr Bell said. “I need my sleep.”
“And you’ll get it, I’m sure. With Eliza’s help, we’ll identify the murderer in no time at all.”
“How will we be murdered?” Mr McRae asked. “There are quite a few different ways to play.”
“Hmm, yes you’re right.” Rosamund paused and studied her guests. “Perhaps because this is only a test, a tap on the shoulder will suffice. No whispering to the victim though. The room isn’t terribly big, and the murderer is likely to be overheard.”
“What about putting a hand over the victim’s mouth to stop them calling out?” Mr McRae said. “That’s how we usually play.”
Rosamund shuddered. “No, I don’t think so. It’s far too aggressive and don’t forget we have Mr and Mrs Reed with us. They’re too old for that sort of thing. It would give them such a fright, Mrs Reed especially. And while we’re on the subject of frights, no removing bodies from the room either. There are some who’ve started to take this game far too seriously.”
Mr McRae was about to interrupt when Rosamund held up her hand. “No, a tap on the shoulder is fine and if you feel such a tap, either fall to the floor if you’re able, or if not, move to the nearest chair and sit down. You need to stay where you are, quite silently, until someone finds you and asks if you’re dead. You must tell the truth as well. No lying, and as soon as you confirm you’ve been murdered, the finder calls out MURDER and we switch the lights back on. Is that clear?”
Everyone nodded.
“Good.” Rosamund pointed to the corner by the door. “The light switch is over there and so the person nearest the switch will have to flick it back on again. Once we can see, we must all stay where we are until the detective, that’s me, tells you it’s all right to move. Is everyone happy?”
There were subdued mumbles around the room.
“Come along, you can do better than that.” Rosamund’s face was alive with excitement. “This is going to be fun, don’t spoil it … oh, and don’t forget, once the cards have been dealt, not a word to anyone about whether you have the ace or king … and keep the cards with you so we can check later that you are indeed who you say you are.”
Rosamund bounced gently on the spot as Mr Cranford took the cards and dealt them into nine piles. “No need to do any for you, my dear,” he said. “If you’re going to be the detective, I’d better not make you the murderer as well.”
Rosamund giggled. “I hadn’t thought of that. Now, everyone take a pile and then spread out. Keep the cards close to you and once we’re ready, Mr Cranford will turn off the lights. While you all do that, I’ll pull the fire screen closer to the flames. We don’t want the escaping light giving the game away.”
With his cards in his hands, Mr Cranford ambled over to the light switch. “Is everyone ready?” After receiving a murmur of assent, he flicked the switch upwards. “I must say, it’s a lot quicker and easier nowadays than it was when we had the gas lamps.”
Someone giggled in the darkness.
“Quiet!” Rosamund’s voice was firm. “You’ll give the game away. Now, everyone move around as carefully as you can. Murderer, I suggest you count to thirty to give everyone a chance to change positions. We don’t want to make it too easy.”
Eliza waited for those nearby to disperse and then stepped backwards towards the fire. Despite the fire screen, there were still shafts of light giving a glow to the surrounding area, but although the wind caused the flames to dance in the grate, the light failed to reach beyond the hearth. With a sigh she turned towards the centre of the room. This has got to be the stupidest game ever invented. She walked slowly, feeling the ground with each foot before she transferred her weight to it, willing the murderer to work quickly. Time seemed to stand still as she crept forward until eventually she turned and headed back towards the fire, only once coming close to a collision with a gentleman of unknown identity.
Once she reached the far side of the room, she paused to watch the tiny shafts of light as they burst from the sides of the fireguard. What a shame to keep them hidden. It was with some reluctance she turned around. Here we go again. What is the murderer up to? She took several steps forward but stopped abruptly. What was that? She strained to listen for the slightest sound but all she could hear was the wind as it swirled around the chimney and the coal as it crackled in the fireplace. After a moment, she released her breath. It must have been a piece of coal falling in the fire. Whatever it was, it wasn’t someone shouting ‘murder’. She continued on her way, but immediately a scream ripped through the darkness causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end.
“Connie, is that you?” She moved as quickly as she dared towards the commotion on the other side of the room but stopped as the lights came back on.
“What on earth�
��s the matter?” Mr Cranford stood by the light switch as the rest of the guests gaped towards the source of the noise.
“I’m sorry.” Connie’s voice quivered as she spoke. “I didn’t mean to stop the game, I fell over…” She glanced down at the body lying on the floor beside her. “Oh my goodness. I tripped over Rosamund.”
“What on earth’s she doing down there?” The smile disappeared from Mr McRae’s face as he stepped forward to reach for Rosamund’s hand. “Come on, up you get.”
Mr Cranford chuckled. “She’ll be playing a game with you.”
As he spoke, Betty joined her husband. “Come along, Ros. You said you wouldn’t play dead if you were accidentally murdered. We need to stop the game and start again.” Betty helped Mr McRae pull her friend’s hand, but when Rosamund didn’t budge Betty’s eyes moved to Connie. “I hope you’ve not hurt her.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose.” Connie’s voice was shrill as she struggled to her feet.
“Rosamund, what’s up? Speak to me.” Mr McRae was on his haunches.
“Stop!” Archie strode across the room and dropped to the floor beside Rosamund. “Everyone stand back. Can’t you see she’s injured? Rosamund, can you hear me?”
Eliza had moved to Connie’s side, but stopped when she saw the handle of a metal knife protruding from Rosamund’s chest. “S-she’s been stabbed!”
“That wasn’t me…” Connie’s voice trembled as she clung to Eliza’s arm.
The smile fell from Mr Cranford’s face. “Rosamund! Stop this nonsense.”
“Will she be all right?” Betty asked Archie as she knelt down to cradle Rosamund’s head.
“I don’t know. Her pulse is weak and her skin’s clammy.”
“Here, take these.” Eliza stepped forward and offered Archie the smelling salts she carried in her handbag. “They might bring her around.”
“I-is it a knife?” Connie pointed to the handle.
Archie nodded. “I would say so. In fact, it looks like one of the fruit knives from the dinner table.”