Chapter 9 #2
‘Hello, doggie. You’re a looker, ain’t you?
Come and give us a kiss.’ Her accent took me back to my life in London.
She could have come straight from behind the bar of any number of East End pubs.
I wondered idly what had brought her to Venice.
Oscar, for his part, didn’t bow but he trotted over, tail wagging, to say hello and found himself almost smothered by the warmth of her greeting.
Before I could initiate any kind of conversation, there was the sound of a door opening behind us and Alice Graceland appeared, dressed in a spectacular cream-coloured robe.
She was wearing delicate, lace gloves to her elbows and her hair had been curled up onto her head and tied back with strings of pearls.
She looked every bit the First Lady of Venice, and Oscar at my side obviously agreed as his tail started wagging furiously.
She swept gracefully over and stopped to survey us with what looked like satisfaction.
‘Excellent. You all look the part.’ She, too, was speaking English.
She turned to Mary. ‘Mary, I think Oscar could do with a bow around his neck. Could you organise that for tomorrow, please?’ Without waiting for an answer, she turned back towards our group.
‘Thank you all for coming. For any of you unfamiliar with murder mysteries, I’ll just run through the basics of what’s going to happen.
I would like you to all be back here on the island by six tomorrow at the latest. That should give you ample time to get changed and ready.
The guests will assemble, either here or outside under the pergola, at or after six o’clock, and you then join them at seven.
It will be your job to move around among them, giving them all a chance to speak to you.
As you do so, I want you to pass on a few clues that may help them when trying to establish the identity of the murderer.
I’ll let you have these clues later this evening.
Each of the guests will have received a card with a brief background to their character.
Obviously, they will be all be instructed not to reveal what’s on their cards to anybody. ’
The Admiral raised a hand. ‘Excuse me, but could I ask a question, please?’ To my surprise, he had a strong Yorkshire accent. ‘Who’s going to get murdered? Is it going to be one of us?’
Alice shook her head. ‘The victim will be me.’ This came as another surprise to me, but Alice went on to explain.
‘I play the part of the real ruler of the Venetian Republic, the power behind the throne. The Doge himself is completely in my thrall and, as a result, I have collected a considerable number of enemies, jealous of my power. All of the guests will be given cards explaining who they are and why every single one of them would dearly like to see me dead. Just to complicate things for them when they try to work out who did it, all of you will also have reasons for wanting me, Donna Alicia, the Doge’s wife, to die. ’
I caught her eye. ‘I gather that I’m the Magistrate. Does this mean that I’m impartial?’
‘Indeed. You are the investigating officer. It’ll be up to you to draw all the different strands together and, at the end of the evening, to give each of the guests the opportunity to point the finger at the person they believe to be responsible for the murder.
Once everybody has said their piece, you will reveal the identity of the murderer and reward whoever has got it right.
’ She looked around at all of us. ‘The basic premise of the story is that we have escaped from an outbreak of plague in the city and are hunkered down here in this isolated inn until the disease passes and it’s safe to return to Venice again. Is that clear to all of you?’
The Cockney courtesan had a question. ‘What happens to you, Donna Alicia, after the murder? Do you just lie on the ground with a dagger in your heart or a rope around your neck, or do you continue to play a part even after your supposed death?’
Alice nodded. ‘The murder will take place right at the end of the meal, so I shouldn’t have to wait too long for the denouement.
I’ll just pretend to be dead and listen in to the conversation until everything is revealed.
The important thing is for you all to circulate among the guests in the course of the evening and to pass on the clues that I’ll give you.
Please keep these to yourself until tomorrow as this will enhance the experience if nobody knows in advance who the murderer is. Is that clear?’
There were murmurs of agreement, and she continued.
‘I’m delighted you’ve all brought masks, and this will further confuse the guests in their investigations.
’ She produced a golden mask from behind her back and put it on.
This was a full face mask with a blank, pitiless expression that looked downright scary.
The top half of the mask with the eyeholes was solid, while the lower half over her mouth was made of golden lace, concealing her lips but presumably allowing her to eat and drink without having to remove it.
‘Thank you in advance for your efforts. Now, I suggest that you all help yourselves to a drink and get to know each other, but please do try to stay in character. Dinner will be served in an hour, so that should hopefully give you time to talk among yourselves and refine your backstories.’
She waved towards a side table where Diego and his son, both wearing leather trousers, aprons and floppy hats, were standing by with bottles and glasses.
I was delighted to see that Alice’s desire for Renaissance authenticity hadn’t extended to the drinks – at least for tonight – and I headed across to grab a bottle of cold Beck’s beer.
As I did so, I pulled my mask up onto the top of my head and gave Diego a wink.
‘So how come you two get to wear trousers, and I have to wear these damn tights?’
He glanced down at my legs and grinned. ‘Me, I’m only a servant. You’re a noble, and nobles wear tights. Uncomfortable?’
In response, I just grimaced. Before beginning to circulate among the other actors, I studied Alice’s face for a few moments. She had removed the golden mask again and she looked animated. I walked over and asked a question that had been playing on my mind.
‘I’m impressed by your murder mystery story, Alice… sorry, Donna Alicia. Are you going to give me the name of the murderer in advance, or am I expected to work it out for myself?’
‘Normally, in these circumstances, the person playing the part of the detective is given the answer in advance, but I’ve been wondering whether maybe, out of professional pride, you might like to pit your wits against me. It’s your call completely.’
I stood there and gave it some thought. The obvious, sensible answer was to ask her to furnish me with the name of the murderer in advance, but I was in two minds.
Once a detective, always a detective – maybe I should take her on.
In the end, I came up with a compromise.
‘I must admit that it would be fun to try to work it out for myself, but I’m conscious that your murder mystery evening needs an impressive ending, so why don’t we do this?
You don’t tell me who did it, but you give me a sealed envelope with the killer’s name in it.
That way, if you completely bamboozle me, I can open the envelope, and the evening can still go off with a bang. ’
She gave an approving nod. ‘An excellent suggestion. I’ll give you the envelope at start of play tomorrow evening.’