Murder Mystery Weekend Pt. 02

- "Wonderful!" said Teresa. "Let's get started."

We all made space, and ceded the centre stage to her.

"We are playing fast and loose with history here. Imagine a time when women could be pirates, and just as bloodthirsty and ferocious as the men - if not more." That got a hoot of agreement from the ladies, and when Sheila chimed in with a deep-voiced 'Aaargh!', everyone laughed.

"You can all use your real names as an alias." continued Teresa. "Everyone here has a secret identity. One of your tasks is to find out everyone else's secrets, without giving away all of your own. Everyone here is in disguise. That might explain why you will not recognize former shipmates, or even old friends. Later on, there will be a murder, and you will try to discover the identity of the killer among you. Finally, there is that rumour about a treasure ..."

"Last rule. Everyone must return their character instruction sheets to me. I will keep them safe, and you can return at any time to consult your own instructions. You may also, if you wish, write down any piece of information on those sheets - but you can't keep the originals."

"The reason for that is very simple: you could easily prove to someone that you're telling the truth, just by showing them your secret instructions. This way, you will have to convince them, without any paper to back you up. No one, except me, of course, will ever know if you are truly trustworthy ..."

I saw heads nodding around the room. There were gamers among us, who certainly appreciated Teresa's little ploy.

"Then ... we are ready to begin."

- "Wait." said Ben. "Who's been murdered?"

- "No one." said Teresa. "Yet ..."

She gave us one hour to circulate, and to talk to other players, while dinner was being prepared. Leo and I got barbecue duty. We were going to cook up shish kebabs, cubes of beef or chicken on skewers, with green and red peppers, onions, zucchini and so on. By some sort of unspoken agreement, neither of us mentioned our characters, or the mystery roles. There were too many people hovering around.

- "I've got this." said Leo. "Go talk to people. Or get me another beer. Or both."

I took the hint, and moved away. Ben was standing by myself, so I approached him. He was the person I least wanted to talk, so I decided to get it over with early.

- "Great costume." I told him.

- "Thanks. You look alright, too."

- "What do you think, so far?" I asked him.

- "Are you kidding? Did you see Barb? Or Claire? Shit, all of them look incredible."

- "I hear you. Lena, too. She makes me wish I was six foot four."

- "In your dreams." he laughed. I was barely 5'10".

Then he transferred his beer to his left hand, and raised his right hand to scratch his ear. Ben looked right at me, and touched three fingers to his ear lobe. It was the recognition signal for Redbeard's crew. For a moment, I considered replying in kind. Instead, I played dumb.

Ben narrowed his eyes and looked at me suspiciously. I'm not sure if I passed his scrutiny, but he gave it up and changed the subject.

I moved off, and settled next to Eric, who was cradling a rum punch while he looked out over the lake. I guess the beard was itching him, or maybe interfering with his drinking: he had pulled it down so that it circled his neck.

- "You look like an Amish pirate." I said.

- "An improvement, then? Never mind. I gladly accept your compliment." he answered.

- "Is that you speaking, or your character?" I asked.

- "Why can't it be both?"

Just for the hell of it, I used the recognition signal that Ben had tried out on me. Eric didn't even flinch.

- "You're not a pirate, are you?" I asked.

- "Depends." he said. "Are you the Falcon?"

Interesting. That was one name I had to fear. "No. I have to watch out for him, too. Or her."

- "So you're the one called the Scar?" Eric asked me.

- "Nope. Not me either."

- "Cool nicknames, though." he said. "I'm glad you invited me. This could be a lot of fun. So then you're here to rescue Redbeard?"

I shook my head. "No. Far as I'm concerned, he can stay right where he is."

- "Really?" said Eric. "And you're not the Falcon?"

- "Said I wasn't." Just then I saw Lena come out onto the patio. She looked around rather hesitantly. Mindful of Teresa's request, I decided to be polite.

- "Your costume is wonderful." I said. "You look very exotic." From the expression on her face, I don't think she understood me. Keep it simple, stupid, I reminded myself. There was no internet service at the cottage, or I might have tried to find an online English-Slovenian dictionary. Lena was smiling at me tentatively, a drink in one hand, and a piece of paper in the other.

- "Why do you have a paper?" I asked her.

- "Ah. My instructions." she said.

- "Really? You must be the only one who still has them. Did Teresa forget to take them from you?"

Lena shook her head. "No. Teresa give them to me." She showed me the paper. I needn't have worried about sneaking a peek at her secrets; they were written in Slovenian. I think.

- "What does your language sound like, Lena? Can you say something for me?"

- "What I should say?" she asked.

- "Anything. Read me your instructions - I won't understand anything, anyway."

Lena smiled, and started reading. It was quite funny, really. Lena read slowly, and enunciated very clearly, as if there was a chance that I might understand. I did catch 'piratsko' more than once - but that was about it. She did have a lovely voice, though. And while I watched her, I decided that her face was quite beautiful. But she was so damned tall!

I excused myself a few minutes later, and went inside to get a couple of beers. I ran into Craig coming up the stairs, with a beer in each hand. On impulse, I gave him the pirate recognition signal. His face lit up. Craig tucked one of the beer bottles under his arm, and placed three fingers against his earlobe. Only then did he look around to see if anyone was observing us.

- "You too?" he asked. Then he lowered his voice to a whisper. "You here to rescue Redbeard?"

I wasn't expecting that, but I responded fairly quickly. "Depends. Nice to know I'm not alone. But we'll need some weapons to pull it off."

- "You're right." he agreed. "I'll let you know if I come across any. You'll do the same?"

- "Absolutely." I said. Nice to know. Unless Craig was a far more accomplished liar than he appeared to be, he had just told me that he didn't have a weapon.

I returned to the patio and handed Leo a beer. Teresa was there.

- "Colin, could you do me a favour?" she asked. "Would you go downstairs for me? There's a red cooler down there, next to the pool table. Could you fill it with beer, and some of those vodka drinks? There are a couple of bags of ice in the freezer. It'll be more convenient to have some of the drinks up here."

- "As you wish."

I picked up the cooler and headed back in. I was just beginning to go down the stairs when Eliza appeared at the foot of the staircase, with a bottle of wine in each hand.. I backed up, and told her to come ahead. There was no way I was going to be able to pass her on the stairs with this cooler.

I will admit that I looked down her blouse as she came up. Mother of Mercy ... I was going to need to put some of the ice in my pants, to reduce the swelling.

We ate a great meal out on the patio, and admired each other's costumes. The conversation and the booze flowed freely. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. When we were finished eating, Teresa assigned galley duty to Ben, Sheila, Eric and Claire - they had to clean up and do the dishes. We would all get a turn or two, so no one complained.

Teresa took charge again once the cleaning up was done, and ordered us all into the basement. She was really acting like a Captain. Then she gave us the news.

"Redbeard is dead." she said. "Sometime this evening, or during dinner, someone came down here and murdered him. That person has cheated the hangman. They must be found."

We all looked at each other. Anyone could have come down here. I had seen Craig and Eliza coming up from the basement, and Leo, and Ben ... who hadn't been in the basement?

- "How did he die?" asked Sheila.

- "He was shot." said Teresa. "Here are your clues: he was lying on a pallet, with his head towards the door. It was made of iron bars, and locked - only the Captain had the key. He may have been sleeping - we can't know for sure."

"He did not finish his lunch. There was vomit on the front of his shirt. Perhaps he was seasick, or still feeling the effects of his heavy drinking before he was arrested."

- "A seasick pirate?" mused Eric.

- "He was shot in the head, by a pistol." continued Teresa. "No one heard the shot. That is all we know, for now. I am still under orders to deliver Redbeard's body to Barbados. We will arrive late Sunday night. That's when our game ends. Until then, the ship's business must continue. From time to time, each of you will have assigned duties and locations."

Teresa then produced a gym bag, and pulled out a big brass bell. She whacked it once with a mallet - it was surprisingly loud, but it didn't reverberate like a church bell or a gong. "This is the ship's bell. At 9:00, I will strike it twice: 2 bells. An hour later will be 4 bells, and at 11:00, six bells. Here are your duty rosters, with the locations you must be in for the first half of that hour. After that, you are free to move about the ship."

Everyone got another sheet of paper. "These are NOT secret." said Teresa. "But that doesn't mean that you have to tell everyone where you will be."

I glanced at mine.

2 bells - the hold (the basement)

4 bells - the crow's nest (the deck above the patio)

6 bells - the point, the dock or the boathouse

I looked at the players while they read their instructions. Which of them was the murderer? Which one was the Falcon? So far, I was pretty sure that Craig wasn't the Falcon, based mostly on his choice of costume. And I didn't think that it was Lena, based on her language difficulties. Would Teresa make her a pivotal character, when she had such difficulty communicating? Or was that precisely what Teresa would do? I came to the simple conclusion that I knew nothing.

People got drinks, and began to migrate in the direction of their 'duty stations'. Teresa took the bell upstairs. Only two people remained in the basement when we clearly heard the two bells. Me - and Sheila.

- "You look fantastic." I told her.

- "You've already said so. But thank you, kind sir." she said, with a bow, and then a curtsey. "Not sure which one is more appropriate."

- "What do you think so far?" I asked.

- "It would make a fascinating psychological study." said Sheila. "I know the alcohol doesn't hurt, but isn't is amazing how people act when they're in costume?"

- "Lowers inhibitions?"

- "For sure. But it makes them more outgoing. You have something to talk about with everyone else. Where did you get your costume? How did you find that? You may not think about it, because you know everybody here, but for someone like me? I've only met half of them, and only a few times. Yet we all have so much to talk about. It's great."

- "You're right. I had to twist Eric's arm to get him to come this weekend, but once the costumes came out, he got right into it."

- "I should hope so." said Sheila. "And then there's the hotness factor. The other girls look spectacular, and the guys look scrumptious, too. You look quite dashing yourself, Colin ... but maybe that's the wine talking."

- "Are you flirting with me?" I asked. "You're just trying to get me to divulge all my secrets."

Sheila's eyes lit up. "Oooh - secrets! Have you got any?"

- "What would you give me for them?" I asked, playing along.

- "That depends on how good they are." said Sheila. She was twirling her long hair (the wig) with her fingertips. "I don't know ... a kiss, maybe?"

- "I have some really good secrets." I told her.

We both laughed. I had spent almost all of my freshman year with a mad crush on Sheila. She resolutely kept me at arm's length, despite the obvious attraction between us. Well, obvious to me, at least. Once I accepted her decision, we became solid friends. We could flirt, and laugh at ourselves.

"You're good." I said.

- "C'mon: tell me one secret. I'll tell you one in return."

- "Deal." I said. This is exactly how these games work. You have to trade information to gain information. But which clue to give her? "How about this: there was a plot afoot, to rescue Redbeard."

Sheila made a face. "Already knew that. Were you a member of Redbeard's crew?" she asked, suddenly.

Shit - could she be the Falcon? I didn't know whether to trust her or not. So I answered a question with a question with a question. "Are you?"

- "I asked you first. Oh, c'mon. Give me something, Colin."

- "I know one of the letters in the code for the treasure map." I said.

- "So do I." she admitted. "But I'm not sure if I'm ready to trade that."

- "OK." I told her. "Here you go: The Falcon is aboard. One of Redbeard's old lieutenants."

Sheila mulled that over for a moment. "That's fair. Are you the Falcon?"

- "No. Are you?"

- "No." she laughed. "All right, you actually gave me something. Not much, but something. You can have this in return: the Scar is also aboard."

I decided to play dumb. "Who is the Scar?"

- "You don't know? The Scar is another of Redbeard's lieutenants." she said.

- "Oh. So we have a ship full of his former crew. Are you the Scar?" I asked.

- "That's a separate question." she replied, with a grin. "What will give me for the answer?"

- "A kiss?" What the hell; it was worth a shot.

Sheila laughed. "Nice try. You can get me a drink, though." She held up her empty wine glass.

- "Am I allowed to go upstairs yet? I don't think it's been half an hour yet."

- "So crack open another bottle." she said. "They're right behind you."

We drank some more, and she fenced with me, alternating between flirty and coy. We also discussed the other players, and aired our suspicions of who was the most likely murderer. After a while, I decided to gamble. I showed her the pirate recognition signal.

- "What is that for?" she asked, intrigued.

- "The recognition signal for Redbeard's crew. It's how they'll know each other."

- "So you're one of them?" said Sheila.

- "Craig showed it to me earlier, and told me what it was." I answered. This way, Sheila could not be sure: she might think that I was not a pirate. But I could tell that she was very pleased with that piece of information. For one thing, she asked me to show her the signal again.

- "Alright, then. I'll give you something in exchange." she said. "If you're looking for the treasure, there are twelve letters to find."

That was very useful. I had assumed that since I had one letter, that everyone else had one, too. Eleven of us. So there was an extra letter.

- "You still don't want to trade letters." I asked.

- "Not yet, Colin. I still don't know whose side you're on. But if I want to trade, I'll find you."

Both of us were caught by surprise when we heard the bell ring. Four times.

- "That was an hour?" I said.

- "An hour well spent." said Sheila. She gave me a kiss on the cheek. Then we went off to our next stations. I was supposed to be in the crow's nest - the deck outside the kitchen, overlooking the patio.

On the way there, I ran into Leo. He drew me aside.

- "You the Falcon?" he asked. "Or the Scar?'

- "No. Neither. You?"

- "No and no. My letter is 'E'. What's yours?"

- "I have 'C'." I told him. Amazing, isn't it, how much information you can pass on, and how quickly, when you trust the other person. Even if Leo and I were on opposite sides, we would find some way to cooperate.

- "Who was your first date?" he asked me.

I was surprised. Date? And then it struck me. Teresa could be playing matchmaker. She had told me to play around. Maybe she was trying to help.

- "Sheila." I said. "You?"

- "Lena." he said, with a sigh. "Caught me staring at her tits at least three times. I'm not sure that I heard a word she said. What could I do? They were at eye level."

He went off on his way, and I stepped out onto the deck. My 'date' was already there, leaning out over the railing. It was Lena.

God damn, but she was tall! I know, I keep saying it. But standing anywhere near her was physically intimidating. And she was showing so much skin, even if it was covered by thin layers of sheer fabric. Best to look at her face, I decided.

She seemed happy to see me. She had a lovely, lovely smile, and an angelic face. I asked her how she was enjoying the game.

- "I am not sure." she said. "I not always know what to do. Find the murder, I understand. Find the treasure, yes. But how to do this?"

- "Well, you have to trade information." I suggested. "Tell the other person something you know, and in return, they should tell you something."

She looked doubtful. "What if they do not?"

- "They will. Here: let me start. Did you know that there was a plot to rescue Redbeard? Some of his former crew are on 'our' ship."

- "Please. What is 'plot'?" she asked.

And that was how our conversation went. I spoke slowly, and as clearly as I could. She asked for explanations when she did not know a word, which was rather frequently. I began to wonder how this girl had ever been picked for an overseas exchange when her English was so weak. But she was sweet, and remarkably innocent.

I traded her my information, some of which was news to her, like the pirate recognition signal. You have to be pretty suspicious to play this game, but I couldn't believe that she was faking. She wasn't part of Redbeard's crew, which meant that she was neither the Falcon nor the Scar. In fact, she was worried about the Scar. Afraid?

Lena was more than willing to trade letters.

- "I know the letter 'O'." she told me.

When we had covered the murder mystery, I started to ask her about her home in Slovenia, her family, and her studies. It was hard work, for both of us. She had to find the right words, and so did I. But we were both surprised when we heard the bell. Six bells, to be exact.

I thanked Lena, and wished her good luck. I headed outside, and grabbed another beer from the cooler. I was feeling no pain, but I wasn't all that drunk.

My next station was outside. I went out to the dock, to look out over the water. The wind was beginning to pick up, and there were clouds rolling in. Dark clouds. Then I heard footsteps on the other end of the dock. It was my next 'date'.

Claire.

She looked smoking hot. "Moonlight suits you." I told her.

She giggled. "Thank you."

- "I bet you've been hearing compliments all night. You look phenomenal"

She fluttered her eyelashes at me. "A girl doesn't get tired of hearing that." she said.

At that moment, I felt a drop of moisture on my hand. I looked up. Wouldn't you know it? It was starting to rain - just a fine mist at the moment, but we couldn't let our costumes get wet. Then I got an inspiration. I grabbed Claire by the hand, and led her to the boathouse.

- "Here?" she asked.

- "It's part of our duty location." I said. Then I had a second inspiration, and I sprinted for the patio. Eliza, or maybe Teresa, had put out half a dozen large lanterns. They looked like storm lanterns, really, but they were only battery-powered decorations. I grabbed two and hurried back to the boathouse.