Dead by Night By Christie Betts

On the short coffee table to the back of the sitting room, six items lay of vital importance: A gun, an empty nail polish container, two pink-stained handkerchiefs, a doctor’s surgical knife, and a scarf.

“Thank you all for coming so promptly,” said Sir John Lucas. “It is time to reveal the truth of Mrs. Anna Worthing’s murder. First, I will recount the particulars of the event. Anna’s maid, Miss Jessica Franklin, who you all have met by now, found her body in her room Tuesday morning with her throat cut. The door was open. Dr. Gordon was so kind as to lend us his knowledge and abilities. He stated that the cause of death was loss of blood from a cut made by a very thin blade. One much like this,” said Sir John while holding up one of the Doctor’s surgical knives. “True Doctor?”

“Yes,” replied Dr. Gordon.

“Now I will portray the activities of last night to all of you. Mr. and Mrs. Worthing, Jacob Hunter, Miss Jessica, Sir James Bunting, and myself were in this very room. Dr. Gordon was in the dining room sipping a claret. The rest of you were in your own rooms. Am I correct?”

Nods were the general response.

“Shortly after Miss. Brooke Winters entered the room and sat down, Mrs. Anna Worthing left the room to retire for the night. Miss Jessica went with her. Soon after Mrs. Anna left, Sir James and I also left for the night. That left Mr. Clyde Worthing, Jacob Hunter, and Miss Brooke Winters in the room. From what information I gathered concerning what happened after I left, this is what followed. Miss Winters became intoxicated. She began to argue intensely with Mr. Worthing about their past relationship, and in her outburst of anger, she withdrew a pistol from her purse and fired it. Mr. Worthing was left with a bullet wound just above his knee.”

Upon hearing the account of the night before, Miss Winters began to shake just as violently as she had the previous evening. Mr. Worthing reached over and took her hand.

“Mr. Worthing pressed a handkerchief to his leg to stop the bleeding. Miss Winters was overtaken with shock at what she had done, dropping the gun, and shaking uncontrollably, so much so that Mr. Worthing insisting on her being taken care of first, then for Jacob to send for the doctor to help.”

In the midst of Sir John’s recounting of the events, Mrs. Ellie Hover was getting a bit anxious, “What if he should accuse me?” she thought. “I would certainly be in such a horrid state, for I have no alibi to spare me from his allegation. However, I have no motive he could possibly know about, so why would he even think about accusing me?”

How could Mrs. Hover know that the same thoughts were running through Miss Franklin’s head as well?

Miss Jessica Franklin was dismayed at the possibility of being accused. She thought frantically. What defense did she have? “Why would I be accused of killing Mrs. Worthing? I was on her payroll. She was the only person who would hire me,” she thought. That would not be enough for Sir John, though. Miss Jessica too was without hope. Should Sir John accuse her she would be helpless against his interrogation.

Mr. Hunter was contemplating his own defense, as well. Then a thought occurred to him, “I could not be even suspected. I was within sight of someone the whole time.”

“The murder was a two-person job,” Sir John continued.

Sir James was the only one to reply. “My dear fellow you have completely confused me. Be a good chap and tell me which of them it was.”

“The two people responsible for Mrs. Anna Worthing’s death are none other than Mr. Clyde Worthing, and Miss Brooke Winters.”

No one in the room spoke a word for some time. Then Sir James broke the silence.

“Now you have really lost me.”

Mr. Worthing also spoke up. “Just how do you come to accuse me of being part of my wife’s murder?” He demanded. His face flushed red with anger.

“It is really quite simple.” Sir John spoke with confidence. He was certain of himself. “At my request the butler was so good as to go fishing in the moat, and he pulled in this.” Sir John pointed to the items on the coffee table. “The contents of this bundled scarf made me look at this murder in a different light.”

“That proves nothing,” Mr. Worthing was getting rather agitated at Sir John.

“It proves everything. If you will just sit tight, I will explain in full. As the events happened last night Mr. Worthing was here with Miss. Winters and Mr. Hunter. Miss Winters fired a gun, and Mr. Worthing was shot. What I could not figure out is, if Mr. Worthing had indeed been shot by Miss Winters, then how did he climb the stairs to kill his wife? Finally the solution came to me. Miss Winters never shot him.

“That is preposterous!” Mr. Worthing said, nearly shouting. “Dr. Gordon himself will tell you I have been shot.”

“Shot you were Mr. Worthing, but not by Miss Winters.”

Mr. Worthing was left speechless, and Miss Winters began to perspire.

“That is all very good, but you have yet to tell how,” said Sir James.

Sir John continued, “If you will look here on the side of this coffee table you will see a small hole, one the size of a small bullet. When Miss Winters fired, she shot the table, not Mr. Worthing. Here I have an empty nail polish container. You can still see a bit of a red tint to it, and here is a handkerchief stained pink. Mr. Worthing hid the opened bottle of nail polish in his handkerchief, and let it spill, so that it looked like he was bleeding. You may remember that Mr. Worthing made sure that Miss Winters was taken care of first, but it was not out of concern for her, but merely a device to buy himself time.”

“That is very good indeed,” Sir James interrupted. “I apologize. Pray continue.”

“Thank you. As soon as Mr. Hunter escorted Miss Winters out of the room, Mr. Worthing immediately got up and ran to the doctor’s room and took one of his knives. He made his way quickly to his own room where he killed his wife. Then he wiped the knife off with this clean handkerchief, and replaced it. He afterward ran back downstairs to this room, where he began to set the stage for his alibi. He picked up the gun Miss Winters dropped and her scarf, which he used as a silencer, and shot himself in the leg. Then he replaced one of the bullets to make it appear as though only one shot had been fired. He then tied every bit of evidence in the scarf and threw the bundle into the moat.

“You can’t prove any of this,” Mr. Worthing stated.

“Indeed I can,” replied Sir John. “You wiped the knife off with the same handkerchief that you used to stop the bleeding on your own leg. I am certain that your blood and Mrs. Anna’s blood are not in the least identical. If in fact I am right, forensics will bear me out.”