Perfect Plot (3 page)

Bill's face turned bright red. “That's a lie!” he sputtered. “Dorothea owed her success to me. She said so herself!”

Maxine murmured something so softly that only Bill—and Nancy, who was standing next to her—could hear. “I taped the call,” she said.
“All
of it.”

In an instant Bill's face went from red to white. “I—I'll talk to you after dinner,” he muttered to Maxine.

Before Nancy even had time to wonder what that was all about, Erika stepped forward to face Maxine. “I want that book,” she demanded.

“I'm sure you do, dear,” Maxine replied calmly. “But you can't have it.”

Erika's left hand toyed nervously with the knot of her silk scarf. “Look,” she said, “Dorothea promised it to me. I convinced her that Cameron & Sweazy could do more for her than your house, and she agreed to move.”

“Then why didn't she?” Maxine asked sweetly.

“She died,” Erika blurted out. “I had no idea that she'd finished the manuscript she promised me.”

“You don't have a contract for it,” Bill said. “Dorothea never signed a contract without my okay.”

“No, I don't,” Erika admitted. “But I bet Maxine doesn't, either. How did you get that manuscript, anyway?”

“That's my doing, I'm afraid,” Kate said, putting her empty punch glass down on a nearby table. “After Dorothea died, I found a big envelope marked ‘To My Editor.' There was a note attached from Dorothea, asking me to keep it safe and not deliver it until the Mystery Mansion museum was ready to open. I just assumed that ‘My Editor' meant Maxine, so I gave her the envelope this morning.”

“You should have given it to me,” Bill said, frowning. “I'm her agent.”

Nancy saw that the squabble had attracted George's and Patrick's attention, too. Catching George's glance, Nancy rolled her eyes. Vanessa Van Ness and Professor Coining had retreated to the couch, obviously uncomfortable with the conversation. Julian Romarain stood protectively next to Kate, who was trying to arbitrate.

“I'm afraid that I should have kept the manuscript and asked the Burden Foundation what to do with it,” Kate said. “Dorothea left the rights to all her works to the foundation, so it owns this manuscript, too. Maxine, I'm sorry, but I'll have to ask you to give it back until we can resolve this.”

“Of course, dear, I understand,” Maxine said.
“But I can't possibly return it before I've found out all the sordid details of the murder! I'll bring it to you tomorrow morning.”

“That'll be fine,” Kate told her.

Just then a young man wearing black pants, a white shirt, and a bow tie slipped through the double doors near the fireplace, closing them behind him. Kate hurried over to him, obviously relieved to escape the argument over Dorothea's manuscript.

“Dinner is ready,” she announced, pushing open the double doors that led to the dining room.

“I'm starved,” George told Nancy as they joined the rear of the little crowd following Kate. “The last thing I ate was a—”

She broke off as those at the front of the group stopped short. Nancy heard gasps and exclamations from them.

“What's going on?” she asked. Even standing on tiptoe, she couldn't see over Vanessa Van Ness.

Finally the others stepped into the dining room and moved to one side. Nancy's mouth fell open when she saw what they were exclaiming about.

A long mahogany table set with fine porcelain, silver, and crystal occupied the center of the wood-paneled room. A dozen tall candles in three silver candelabra cast flickering light on
the table, on the oil portraits on the wall—and on the still figure of a man in a butler's uniform lying on the floor.

The room was just bright enough for Nancy to make out the maroon silk cord knotted tightly around the man's neck.

G
EORGE DUG
her fingers into Nancy's arm. “Nancy!” she gasped. “Is he—”

“I don't know,” Nancy replied, her throat suddenly very dry.

“We have to do something!” Vanessa exclaimed. She rushed forward and knelt next to the body. When she looked up, her face was red and she spoke angrily. “This is not a funny joke!”

Confused, Nancy glanced quickly at Patrick. There was no mistaking the amusement on his face. When she glanced back at the body, she noticed this time that there was something strange about the way it was positioned.

“Wait, everybody,” Kate said, pushing forward to face the shocked group. “Let me explain.”

“No, let me,” Julian insisted, stepping up next to her and touching her hand for a moment. “What you see is not real,” he told the group. “The ‘body' on the floor is actually a dummy. Kate asked me to set up this and several other ‘crimes' as tests of your detecting abilities.”

“Rubbish,” Professor Coining muttered loudly.

Ignoring the professor, Julian took an envelope from Kate and held it up. Nancy could see the Murder to Go skull in the upper left-hand corner.

“In here,” Julian went on, “is a full explanation of the crime and its solution. You have five minutes to study the scene of the crime, without touching anything. Then we'll discuss it. The person who comes closest to the solution is the winner. Any questions?”

Professor Coining scowled. “Yes. Why are we wasting our time with this?” Obviously he had no interest in the challenge. Then again, he was an expert on mystery writing, Nancy recalled, not on mysteries themselves.

“Oh, come on, Marsden. Maybe this isn't so bad,” Vanessa said. “Be a sport. This won't take long.”

Under Julian's direction, the guests lined up and slowly filed past the dummy. While Nancy was waiting for her turn, she studied the rest of the room. Hanging in one corner was a maroon silk bellpull that ended in a ragged edge about six
feet above the floor. A horn-handled carving knife lay on the floor just below the bellpull. On the sideboard, she spotted a case that contained a horn-handled carving fork and an empty space the size and shape of the knife. A heavy crystal decanter stood next to it on an engraved silver tray. The decanter had smudges around the neck and on one side.

“This is sort of fun,” George whispered as she and Nancy moved closer to the dummy. She fell quiet when it was their turn to examine the crime scene.

Nancy studied the dummy, which was lying on its back, its head skewed to one side. It was dressed in gray- and black-striped trousers and a black swallowtail coat. A shaggy mustache dominated the face, and gray gloves covered its hands. Stooping down, Nancy examined the soles of the dummy's brown shoes. Dried mud was caked on the heels.

On the floor next to the dummy was a half-filled black cloth sack. An ornate silver teapot poked out of the sack, and half a dozen silver spoons and forks were scattered across the rug in front of it.

“Erika's turn,” Julian said.

Nancy and George stepped out of the way.

“Do you have any ideas?” George whispered.

“A few,” Nancy replied, smiling. “But I think I'll wait to see how the others solve the case.”

Bill Denton was the last one in line. He glanced at the dummy, gave a snort, and said, “Simple.”

“Does that mean you've solved the mystery?” Julian asked. He took a pen and a small notebook from his pocket.

“What mystery?” Bill scoffed. “It's obvious what happened. There was a burglary, and the butler was the inside man. He and his partner got into an argument, and his partner strangled him. End of story.”

Julian made some notes, then asked, “Does anyone have any questions about Bill's theory?”

Nancy cleared her throat. “Yes,” she said. “Why did the partner leave the loot behind?”

With a shrug, Bill replied, “He got spooked by something. He lost his head and ran.”

“Why did he strangle the victim?” George spoke up. “Wouldn't it have been faster and easier to stab him with that carving knife?”

Good question, Nancy thought. And it was obviously one Bill Denton hadn't considered.

“How should I know?” the agent huffed. “Maybe he couldn't stand the sight of blood.”

Erika was standing just behind Nancy. “I don't understand,” she said, stepping forward. “What was the butler doing while the other guy was cutting down that bellpull? Just standing around waiting to be strangled?”

Bill scowled at her. “I never said I knew
everything
about this stupid game. Have you got a better solution?”

“I'm not a detective, I'm an editor,” Erika replied. She glanced at Patrick, obviously hoping to catch his attention, but he didn't seem to notice.

“How about the rest of you?” Julian asked. “Does anyone have a different solution?”

Nancy was pretty sure she knew the answer, but she didn't feel comfortable about being the first to come forward. There was an uncomfortable silence, until Vanessa Van Ness broke it. “Well, I did notice a few rather odd things,” she said slowly.

“Yes?” Julian prompted.

“I suppose a butler might wear gray gloves, though white is more correct,” she began. “And although butlers are almost always clean-shaven, it's possible that one might have a mustache. But a real butler would
never
wear brown shoes with his uniform. And certainly not brown shoes with mud on them. So I have to conclude that the victim was not a butler—he was merely disguised as a butler. Why? Because he was planning to rob the house. And judging by the bag of loot next to the body, he was in the middle of doing it when someone came upon him and killed him.”

Julian smiled and made a few more notes.

“Yes, but who?” Erika asked impatiently.

“I think we can make an excellent guess,”
Vanessa replied. “Someone came in, carrying a heavy decanter on a silver tray. He spotted the burglar and knocked him out with the decanter. Then, overcome by a murderous rage, he took out the carving knife, cut down the bell cord, and strangled the unconscious burglar with it.”

“That's just guesswork,” Bill growled.

Vanessa shook her head. “Not quite. If the silver tray had been on the sideboard, the burglar would certainly have put it in his sack with the rest of the loot. So the killer must have brought it into the room. And the smudges on the decanter show that someone held it by the neck and hit something with it. I suspect that if we analyzed the side of the decanter, we'd find traces of hair cream.”

“Bravo, Vanessa,” Maxine put in. “I like that touch.”

“Yes, but who did it?” Erika asked again.

“Isn't it obvious?” Vanessa's eyes twinkled as she took in the circle of faces. “If any of the rest of you know the answer, let's all say it together. One—two—three—”

Nancy joined the chorus of, “The butler did it!” Then everyone in the room cracked up—except Bill Denton.

“I still don't see why you think the butler did it,” he grumbled.

Nancy couldn't resist speaking up. “The killer came in carrying the decanter on a tray,” she
explained. “When he saw the burglar from the back, dressed as the butler, he knew instantly that he was an imposter and bopped him with the decanter. He knew because he himself was the butler. Also, he knew where to find the carving knife, which he didn't think of as a weapon, because for him it was a tool for cutting things—like the bell cord. After he'd cooled off and realized what he'd done, he ran away.”

Julian tore open the envelope with the solution in it and passed the paper inside to Kate, his hand lingering on hers a second longer than it had to. Kate read the paper.

“The winner is Vanessa Van Ness,” she then announced. “I must add an honorable mention to Nancy Drew also.”

As the applause died down, Julian and Patrick carried away the dummy and the props from the challenge. Nancy and George circled the table to find their name cards. Nancy was seated between Patrick and Bill, while George was across the table, between Vanessa and Julian.

Once Patrick and Julian had joined the rest of the group at the table, Nancy turned to Patrick and said, “That was fun. I just hope the real butler didn't find our game upsetting.”

Patrick grinned at her. “Actually, there isn't one. Never was. Aunt Dotty made do with a cook-housekeeper, who retired after she died.”

“What about her?” Nancy asked, nodding toward
a young woman in a maid's uniform who was serving the soup.

“We hired her and three others, along with a cook, just for this conference,” Patrick replied.

“I'm sure the museum will be a huge success,” Nancy said. “Was your aunt planning it for a long time?”

Patrick chuckled. “If she was, she didn't tell anyone,” he replied. “We were all surprised to hear about it when her will was read.”

“All?” Nancy repeated. “Do you have a lot of relatives?”