in fright, until she realized it was just Aunt Hepzibah in her more formal attire. "Do come in, Auntie....you are looking lovely tonight." Now, before the others come, I would like to tell you...........

what I've planned tonight. We have a most distinguished guest list tonight."

"But first you must tell me the truth about my bloodline. Enough of them are coming tonight, after all."

After a brief pause, Aunt Hepzibah confidently entered and intoned, "Dorothy, the secret of your bloodline ....."

resides somewhere in Central Europe. And there is illness and suicide and far worse in your roots. But before I go any further with this, let me warn you of....

Before Aunt Hepzibah could go on, the doorbell rang again. Dorothy turned, but as she reached for the knob, her aunt grabbed her hand and insisted, "Your cousin Cilly and that lazy son of hers, Geoffrey, are challenging your grandfather's will. They have been talking to all the family and they're trying to prove that you..."

are not a true descendant of the Khearson line. In the glow of the candlelight, Dorothy detected a hint of derision is her aunt's tone. Before she could give it further consideration, her thoughts were disrupted as the doorbell rang once more.

. . . are the love-child of Klaus von Swineinfurt-Meiningen, the handsome but evil pop promoter from deepest Thuringia who had his wicked way with your sweet and innocent mother when she was a cocktail waitress at a Las Vegas bar. Geoffrey is determined to get his hands on your . . ."

Despite her attempts at artifice Dorothy could not disguise her amusement on listening to Aunt Hepzibah's tale it was all so silly and trivial in view of the great surprise (shock rather,she chuckled to herself) she and the other readers would get when that special book was finally opened by that very special guest. So, she, Dorothy had inherited evil - well it had all been carefully hidden until this evening. But first

"Just follow my lead" she murmured to her aunt as she opened the door to her leering cousin (once removed) Geoffrey, who thrust a bouquet of oleander at her. Looming behind him was ....

Andreas, his one-eyed, humpbacked ex-wrestler bodyguard. Next to Andreas was Geoffrey's sister Lilith, a former chorus girl and now a notorious brothel owner.

"What have I done to deserve this?" thought Dorothy as she put on a brave face, knowing very well that Geoffrey would cause a scene had he known that Dorothy's lover (and half-cousin), Hezekiah, was also on his way to this intimate but ultimately chaotic gathering.

Amid all of the darkness and chaos, thrust into the middle of this tense evening would be Sister Katherine. She and Hepzibah were twins but you'd never know it to see them. One had the serene face that a life of love and contemplation produces, the other, a twisted knarled face that matched her hands, a face that frowned more than smiled.

Dorothy, trying to be brave, said, "Come in. We are only waiting for a few more people and we can begin."

She peeked out a window in the hopes that Sister Katherine and Hezey, as she called him, would be approaching the front door. Big fat raindrops were beginning to fall. Through the wet window pane she saw...

. . . Seasalt-St. Cuthbert's famous resident Interpol detective Inspector Alphonse Pomme de Terre. Dorothy ushered him into the hall, and despite the rain propped the front door open.
"What have you there in that heavy parcel?"
"Here are the extra books you will all be required to read this evening. They all contain clues to the Medieval Murder Mystery."
Dorothy led the way into the palour where the other guest were eying up each other and the delicious food.
"Please be seated, Alphonse will hand each of you a book which you must read while you eat these little snacks I prepared earlier. Try not to drop crumbs."
They all sat and the Inspector gave the first copy to Geoffrey. His leer grew more lecherous as he read the title Little Women.
The next book was given to . . .

Lilith. Her petite stature and waxy complexion led casual observers to discount her as a helpless waif. But the tome she received showed that someone knew Lilith's true nature: MacBeth.

Andreas was the next to receive his book, and was relieved to see that it was a copy of The Count of Monte Cristo. After all, a copy of The Hunchback of Notre Dame would have made him trés misérable!
He handled the fine leather cover, his head tilted to allow his one eye to read the gilt lettering, and uttered a small sigh. Next to him....

sat Geoffrey, who looked as if he were up to no good. Dorothy remembered well the bouquet of oleander he had thrust upon her. How appropriate, she mused, in that this flower is known to be extremely poisonous....

With a flash of lightning and a peal of thunder, the wind blew the front door shut. The startled congregation then heard an incessant pounding coming from the back door.

Dorothy, rattled by the oh-so-inconvenient weather and the appearance of the detective, rushed to the massive oak back door.

As she reached it, the knocking on the back door impatiently continued. Dorothy hefted the large door open only to see the next guest ....

Aunt Agatha and her large, round cat, Hercule. "Goodness, child, what took you so long? My luggage is out on the stoop...has everyone arrived?" Dorothy pulled in the large trunk, wondering how Aunt Agatha had heard about the murder mystery evening. She had asked everyone to keep mum. Aunt Agatha was such a bore about murder mysteries.
By the time Dorothy returned to the parlor, the old woman had...

...donned an apron, taken a collection of foul-smelling greenery from her trunk and put it into a saucepan on the stove. Dorothy, helping Alphonse to distribute the books in the palour smelt the disgusting odour and remembering that the old cat had an incontinence problem, hurried back into the kitchen where she found Aunt Agatha consulting an ancient cookery book entitled . . .

"Edible and Medical Wildflowers." Suddenly, Dorothy heard a rattling and a knocking at one of the windows. The wind blew it open, to reveal....

Hezey. In his arms slumped the unconscious figure of Sister Katherine. They were both drenched from the rain. "Didn't you hear the doorbell? For heaven's sake let me in. She may be pure and holy, but she still weighs a ton." Dorothy hurried to the door.
Hezey staggered in. "She wandered right out into the road in front of my roadster," he explained. "I think she...

was drunk or drugged from the way she was staggering."

"Not Aunt Sister! Never Aunt Sister!" exclaimed Dorothy.

Hezekiah struggled to the fainting couch and none too gently deposited Sister Katherine. All rushed to her side, but Geoffrey, who stood glowering.

"Liar and Murderer" he screamed!

At that moment, Aunt Agatha appeared in the doorway, holding a large Corningware dish of her foul-smelling concoction and using Dorothy's best guest towel as an oven mitt. "Geoffrey, pipe down! I've made up a poultice, that should snap her out of it." She trod heavily to the fainting couch as guests dodged away from the stench that surrounded her ample figure.

Suddenly, Sister Katherine ...

gurgled and black, viscous bile bubbled out from her open mouth and dribbled on to Dorothy's couch.

Sister Katherine's eyes snapped open and she violently convulsed and thrashed, vainly struggling to call out in agony.

The guests were horror-stricken and petrified in their places as Sister Katherine slowly pointed at Geoffrey ....

with a trembling hand. In the other, she clutched her pectoral cross. Even as she fell back against the pillows, her lips formed the word...

"... 4.55 from Paddington. Aghhhhhhh"

She slumped back, lifeless.

The guests blanched and trembled. Alphonse took command and gave a string of orders.
To Andreas " Do not let your master out of your sight."

Turning to Hezekiah "Please take my car and drive to the railway station. The 4.55 will arrive in ten minutes. Look out for a tall, fair-haired Central European with a dualling scar down his left cheek. He will be carrying a copy of . . ."

"Medieval Exorcisms and Poison Antidotes". But you will have to signal him with a code to indicate who you are. Make a sign with your hand like so....

he said, wrapping his left hand behind his head and gripping his right ear. "Then he will ask you to dance. Your answer must be..."

"I never dance. It is against my religious beliefs, and, besides, I don't know any medieval dances." Hezekiah nodded and turned to leave for the station.

"You can't leave! You killed her!", screamed Geoffrey.

"And you! Who put you in charge and how do we know you're even who you say you are?", screeched Geoffrey as he accusingly pointed at Alphonse.

As the storm continued to rage outside ....

Dorothy walked across the room and dealt Geoffrey a stinging slap across the face. The satisfaction was overwhelming. Oh, the rush! She had wanted to do that for years, since he bit the head off her first doll.
"You are hysterical," she snapped. "Sit down and shut up. Alphonse is with Interpol." Lilith gasped and looked wildly from door to window, as if for an escape route. "I, I, I must..."

..."keep my promise made to grandmother so many years ago. I must never reveal how much I know about...."

" . . . what is buried behind the potting shed." Lilith clapped her hands over her mouth. "I have said too much. Grandmother, if you are able to hear me from beyond the grave please forgive me."
As another terrific rumble of thunder crashed overhead the car could be heard turning into the drive. Who was the final member of their party and why did Hezekiah have a black eye?

The revelations were coming fast and furious. The guests were confused and befuddled as they tried to digest these events.

Alphonse confidently strode to Dorothy and said, "Madam, you know who I am and what my credentials are. Because of has happened to Sister Katherine, I must insist that no one leave. I will call the nearest police station to request for some policemen to await the 4:55. I will also ask for some equipment so we may find out what is behind the potting shed."

As the sound of the car in the driveway died down, Alphonse glanced outside. "Ah, just as I expected, here comes ...."

that buffoon, the old Chief Constable."
Dorothy bristled. "Lord Seldomwright was a dear friend of my father's," she stated firmly, "and is always welcome here."
"Ever had him around a crime scene?" Alphonse asked drily. "He is guaranteed to blunder into blind corners, fall into reveries and leap to wrong conclusions. He's a famous old nuisance."
Agatha peeked out of the window. "I was courted by Armbruster Seldomwright, you know. But," she said, pointing suddenly at Geoffrey and Lilith, "thanks to your Grandmother..."

" . . . he was shipped out to the furthest corner of the Empire where he met a hot and steamy end in a cooking pot.
It was after that Lilith introduced me to Hezekiah, who, it must be said comes a very poor second."
At that moment Lord Seldomwright crashed through the door making puddles and footprints on the floor.
"What ho, Dorothy my dear, got a spot of trouble with a dead nun I understand. Never fear my men will dust this place for finger-prints and dig up the entire garden just to check nothing untoward is buried somewhere."
He suddenly noticed Alphonse. "So, M. Pomme de Terre. We meet again. I hope there is to be no repeat of the trouble you caused . . ."

"while we were investigating that little matter of the ancient folio found in Lyme Regis. It was no small embarassment to me and my department, not to mention my MOST distinguished ancestors to be shown up by a mere slip of a man who dares call himself an inspector."

Alphonse, jumped in when the Lord of the Manor (and legend in his own mind) stopped to take a breath. "My dear Lord Seldomwright," Alphonse dramatically bowed at the waist, "it is no surprise to find you here. Your family and this have been entertwined since the Druids built Stonehenge... or was it the Irish? Doesn't matter. It is fortunate that you've arrived so quickly as it saves me the trip up to your house to question you. I understand you and the late Sister spent much time together before she suddenly took her vows. Can you refresh my memory?" With this last question, Alphonse calmly smoothed his hair with one hand and patiently awaited an answer.

Lord Seldomwright's eyes got wide. It wasn't often someone dared to demand something of a Seldomwright. This, this, this, inspector as he called himself, had no right to barge in on the family's history, HIS history like this! "I say sir, you overstep your place!"

"Never-the-less, Seldomwright, I must demand an answer," responded the calm inspector, "I know the basics, something about..."

... a childhood bethrothal, an inconvenient interloper from the Continent, the short-lived affair beetween Agatha and your half-brother, Armbruster, broken hearts all around, and then, of course, Katherine's hasty dash to the convent. But I must demand, Sir, your account for Sister Katherine's state here tonight! Were you not in contact with her just hours ago?" demanded the inspector.

Lord Seldomwright gasped, drew himself up to his full height and glared down his patrician nose at the smaller man.

"You cad!" he barked, "How dare you allude to ..."

" . . . the private prayer meetings held between Sister Katherine and myself. It is well-known in the town that St Cuthbert's Convent welcomes gentlemen into their gatherings and my knowledge of incense making and the use of ancient herbs is much appreciated by those holy, simple women."
He pushed past Alphonse into the palour where his eyes lit upon one of the remaining books which was to have been handed out to the guests.
"Look here, Pomme de Terre, does not this title show that my relationship with Sister Katherine was honourable?" He held the heavy tome up for the bemused guests to read . . .

"Castle Blood" read the title. Before the book could be opened and read, Geoffrey snatched it away and screamed, "Fie upon you all! You have presented red herrings right and left. You have completely ignored the pathetic legacy of our European ancestors. How dare you extrapolate such nonsense from chaos!. Take care, you are far too arrogant for your own good. I am opting out of this now." Suddenly, there was another knock at the door....

. . . to admit Hezekiah loaded down with luggage and followed by a tall fair-haired stranger, who despite the inclement weather was dressed in leder hosen. He bent over Dorothy's hand and clicked his heels. " Klaus von Swineinfurt-Meiningen, at your service."
Turning to Hezekiah "Put the luggage down, fool, if you can find space in this crowded and malodorous room."
Seating himself on the edge of a chair he surveyed the inhabitants and guests of this usually so quiet and genteel English sea-side town.
His spies had not warned him that he would find such an ill-assorted bunch.
Aunt Hepzibah, dressed, as usual in her devil getup.
Geoffrey, quivering with rage and evil intent, cringing behind his body guard, Andreas. What an ugly thug.
Pale trembling Lilith, who looked more like the inmate of an orphanage than high-class Madam of a bordello.
Apron-clad Aunt Agatha. Was her motherly look deceptive?
Hezekiah, the pale,weedy English twit dressed in white flannels and a blazer.
The fool of a Chief Constable, Seldomwright, all tweeds and bluster.
Dorothy, no great beauty, sensibly dressed in twin-set and pearls.
Lastly, the clever, vain (even now admiring his reflection in his highly polished shoes) and deviously clever Alphonse Pomme de Terre. Like himself another Johnny Foreigner; but a German will always get the better of a Frenchman.
And what of the victim lying life-less on the couch? Someone had got to her before he could put his copy of 'Medieval Exorcisms' to the test.
Who else in the room knew the secret of . . .

The Ancient Rite of Venerable Cowslips? He looked them all over again with narrowed eyes.
Clearly, Agatha fancied herself as an herbologist. Perhaps she had stumbled on the rite in one of her books and didn't know what she knew.
Or Hezekiah. could anyone really be that much of a Bertie Wooster in real life?
"I will meet first with Agatha and Hezekiah," he announced. While the Chief Constable and Alphose were blustering out their responses to this high-handedness, Geoffrey shouted....

"Ave Atque Vale", as a black shadow with wings floated by the open window, revealing....

Sargeant Arbuckle, in his rain cape. He peered in curiously, then saluted crisply and continued his patrol around the house. Dorothy had a sudden urge to giggle-the plump Sargeant with his pompous attitude often had that effect on her. But it quickly passed as Geoffrey repeated his strange cry. "Ave Atque Vale" he screamed again. "Oh stop showing off," snapped Aunt Hepzibah. "You aren't going anywhere. And as for you, young man," she rounded on Klaus, "How dare you interview Agatha before me. After all, I am....

the Matriarch of this Clan! I know ALL the secrets," she continued, glaring at Lilith. "I know ALL the little plots and plans," she snapped, turning to Geoffrey. "I even know why we have all been invited here tonight. Sorry, Dorothy," she added in an aside. "So I should be the first..." suddenly her body stiffened, then collapsed. Before anyone could catch her, she fell across the corpse of Sister Katherine, foaming gently from her mouth and nose.
Lilith proceeded to have gold medal hysterics. Dorothy hastened to calm her, at the same time saying "Alphonse, for heaven's sake, can't you...."

" . . . stop admiring yourself and ring for a ambulance, my carpets are being ruined."
"No point, the line is dead" said S Arbuckle. "That is why I had to walk up from the town. This terrible weather has uprooted several trees across the road, we could well be cut-off for many hours, especially it the river floods and the extra high tide reaches the base of the cliffs . ." Suddenly a high-pitched yowl came from the tea-laden table where the cat, unnoticed in the hubbub had helped itself to some of the dainty morsels. With fur sticking out in mangy spikes it rolled through the fairy cakes and slices of battenburg, coming to rest in the silver milk jug; dead.
All eyes turned to Dorothy, she who had prepared this feast. Could this sensible, not quite middle-aged and possible heiress be responsible for . . .

And the novel ended on a mystery note (?)

I guess no one could top Vee's dead cat :-)

I'd continue but I felt like I was monopolizing.

go, cece, go!

All eyes turned to Dorothy, she who had prepared this feast. Could this sensible, not quite middle-aged and possible heiress be responsible for . . .all this mayhem?
"Oh don't be ridiculous," snapped Dorothy as she patted Aunt Agatha, who sat crooning to poor Hercule's corpse.
"You all know why I invited you-and it wasn't to kill you off one by one. That would be terribly inefficient." She left Aunt Agatha and gathered up the abandoned books. "I invited you to a murder mystery evening, and that's what we are going to do." Dorothy redistributed the books and then finished her assignments. "You'll have to fill in for the aunts," she directed, thrusting books into the reluctant hands of Sargeant Arbuckle and Alphonse. "Here, I can't read this stuff!" said the Sargeant, waving his copy of...

. . . How to Overcome Wedding Night Nerves; a Guide for Young Brides by One Who Knows.
Continuing in her role as Sensible Female, and noticing the strange smell of death mixed with damp clothing was turning many of the group rather pale, Dorothy led the stunned guests out of the palour into the hall where, for lack of space, they were forced to sit on the stairs.
No longer feeling like friends and relations they had become naturally suspicious of each other and absolutely no-one wanted to sit next to . . .

Klaus, who was holding the odiferous, dead pussy covered in clotted cream in his lap. "I have a weakness for helpless animals", he demurred, "If you want me to dig a hole in the garden...."