Everyone at Dinner Is the Detective

How it begins

Molly Price knew something was wrong when the third guest asked whether she had seen anything suspicious.

'Yes,' she said. 'A man has put his coat in the refrigerator.'

He made a note.

She had meant it as a complaint.

The dinner host had hired her to cater for eight and instructed her not to interfere with the entertainment. A silver spoon would disappear. A guest would solve the mystery. Everyone would enjoy pudding.

Molly had hidden the spoon herself beneath the bread basket. It remained there, available to anyone prepared to lift bread.

In the hall, Edgar Cole watched a woman inspect the umbrella stand with a pocket torch.

'She says she's checking the lighting,' he murmured.

'Is she?'

'Not unless umbrellas have changed since I retired.'

The former stage manager had come to help move tables. He now stood with the expression he used when actors attempted to improve a scene they had not learned.

Molly carried a tray into the dining room. Two guests stopped speaking. A third asked whether she had access to the study.

'I have access to the kitchen. That's where dinner is made.'

He nodded as though this were a clue.

She found the host beside a drinks trolley.

'How many detectives did you invite?'

'One.'

'Which one?'

'It's a surprise.'

'For whom?'

Before he could answer, a shout came from the study. The door stood open. Inside, an empty display case gleamed beneath a small lamp.

Molly looked toward the dining room. Every guest was already reaching for a notebook.

Edgar checked the bread basket. The spoon was still there.

'Good news,' he said. 'The entertainment hasn't started.'

Molly put down the tray. A room full of people eager to solve a crime could be very useful. Unless somebody had invited them precisely because none would think to stop performing.