Jeeves, in his inimitable way, soundlessly glides into the morning room from the dining room.

"Forgive me for intruding madam, but some of the guests have been commenting on an unusual odor emanating from the vicinity of the mud room. Shall I instruct the gardeners to investigate?"

"An odor most foul, at odds with any household run by Jeeves, appears to be coming from a closet door in the mudroom. Surely you noticed it when you took your shoes off after the walk," Chris added with a raised brow.

"I confess to being a mite worried. We were, after all, missing some of the usual suspects from the Valentine's Party. Did you ever hear from Martin?"

(I was away for a few days. But go ahead! I'd love to be the corpse!)

Now that you mention it, Martin never did RSVP-and he had such fun at the New Year's Book bash. Perhaps we'd better ring the Yard-surely Alleyn, Gideon, Dalgleish or Jury will be on duty. Until then, we'd better not disturb anything. Jeeves, would you and Bunter gather everyone in the drawing room until they get here?

I will be the bewildered old lady who has to have everything explained to her so that the author can get his points across to the dumbest reader!
"Cece, dear, what is a mud-room?

No-one noticed the look that passed between Jeeves and Bunter as they hurried to collect the few remaining guests and herd them to the elegant drawing room.
Cece was growing impatient. She had an important meeting to attend and wasnÂt used to being kept waiting.
She fixed a cigarette into an ivory holder, lit it and tapped her blood-red finger nails on the ten foot square partners desk left to her by her immensely wealthy third husband.
"Why this delay?" she demanded of Chris. My goodness to think they had been roomies in their sophomore year at Vassar. Chris was from one of the oldest Baltimore families, the InthevalleyÂs went right back to pre-electricity days. She was a person worth cultivating.
Chris eyed her friend speculatively from behind half-closed eyes and coughed loudly.
"Ring for the maid to open a window, Cece. The smoke is bad for my health and the smell in here is getting worse."
An ancient shapeless maid creaked into the room, holding a duster and a blood-soaked copy of a little regarded Booker prize winner ÂThe Siege of Krishnapur.Â
The wealthy American matrons eyed her with distaste. Since the US had annexed the Commonwealth and the United Kingdom had become the fifty-something state the standard of hired help had gone right down the pan.
"Vee. How many times must I tell you not to drip blood on my Maplewood floors?" Cece didnÂt know why she continued to employ these old-world wet-backs. They showed her scant deference, and couldnÂt make an Old Fashioned or a Whiskey Sour to save their lives. She has won Jeeves in a poker game, he had refused to work without Bunter from whom he seemed inseparable and Vee had arrived as a Special from Wal-Mart. But as Chris had pointed out she did have a cute British accent when answering the phone.
"When you have opened the windows, Vee, make sure you have ironed the creases out of my white gloves. I have a meeting of the Junior League in an hour." She turned to Chris. "I plan on ousting Mrs Van Staedhowser III as chairperson of the fundraising committee."
"Yeah" thought Chris. "And be voted Phenomenal Woman of the Year. Should be easy with all the money from those three so soon lost husbands."
Vee watched as the two old buddies made their way towards the now-full drawing room and ignoring the instructions from her employer headed back to the mudroom where three policemen from Scotland Yard (now a branch of the FBI) where throwing themselves against the door.
The smell was getting stronger . . .

In the pantry, Rose grumbled to Cook, "I don't just understand them upstairs. Why don't they just open the mudroom door and see what's causing the smell!"

Cook turned back to Rose, her eyes round with horror. "I know what's in there! Remember that hunting party last month?"

LOL-I'm actually the President of the JL in my town this year......

Cece threw the cigarette away impatiently. "I know they're bad for me, but I need something to do with my hands when I'm nervous-I just ash, I don't inhale!"
Jeeves and Bunter stepped protectively to either side of the roommates as Chief Inspector Gideon entered the room.
"We've called in the hazardous materials crew-they'll be here directly. Until then, we'll need everyone to return to the drawing room."
Cook rounded on him impatiently. "I'm not leaving my souffles. I have people to feed and my reputation to think of. I've never lost a souffle yet!"
Inspector Fox stepped around Chief AInspector Alleyn. "That'll be fine, madam," he said, winking at his chief. "I'll just stay with you-my souffles fall and I'd like some help deciding why. Is there a cup of tea going?"
"Bring tea to the rest of us as well," Cece threw over her shoulder as the guests turned to go.
Just then a wave of unbearable stench rolled down the hall from the closet they called the mudroom. The HazMat guys were here. In spite of watering eyes and choking fumes, they all crowded down the hall except...

.....for Sherlock Holmes. Holmes stayed put in his wingback chair, puffing away at his pipe with a bemused look on his face.

With a sigh, he uncrossed his legs, stood up and said .........

"You've all missed the most obvious clue...."

"What was missing from the buffet table?"

As all eyes followed Holmes' accusatory finger, everyone saw that the roast wildebeest was no longer where it was last night.

Inspector Fox pooh-poohed the notion. "Balderdash! There's a perfectly good explanation for why that roast is missing! Cece or Jeeves can explain", he intoned in a very smug tone.

Holmes, with a raised eyebrow, looked at Cece and Jeeves.

"Well Cece, Jeeves?"

"Certainly, Sir" began Jeeves, "It was removed to the pantry before breakfast set up at 4 a.m. for -"

Whoosh! An outside door slammed open, drawing smoke down the dining room chimney and scattering everyone into the hall.

"Who left?" demanded Chief Inspector Alleyn, as everyone stared out at a sleigh disappearing through the massive gates at the lake's edge.

Only to pass over the turn to the road, and begin to cross the frozen lake.