Chapter 3

Welcome to chapter three of Deadly Manners. We'll begin our program after this quick word from our sponsors. Let me tell you something. Me undies are the softest, most comfortable underwear you'll ever wear down. Every pair of meandies is sustainably sourced, which is important, and made from micromodal. It's a fabric that's three times softer than cotton. If you're used to buying boring underwear, check me undies out. It'll change everything.

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When the lights returned, the guests all looked toward the source of the sound. Their eyes landed on Veronica, who in her fury had crushed the champagne glass she held in her hand, the crimson from her palm now gushing to the ground. A wave of relief washed over the crowd as it became apparent that nobody had died, and Veronica should have been pleased at the progress, but unfortunately.

She had a new concern. Ugh! My grandmother's Persian rug! Now I've gone and ruined it! Oh my, what have I done? Allow me. A little white vinegar and baking soda. We'll take that right out. Make sure you don't rub the fibers too hard. They're very delicate. I know. I'll be careful. Veronica was about to utter a long deserved thank you when her eyes fluttered and her limbs turned to rubber. Gravity threatened to bring poor Veronica's body to the ground, but luckily

The butler was there to intercept her fall. I've got you. Oh, George, I I feel so faint. Madam, it appears all this imbibing without substance has taken its toll on you. We sh should should talk to the chef. We must the food come let's get Was it something I said? When Veronica and the butler arrived at the kitchen, they found it Where is the chef? The butler fetched a glass of water and a first aid kit, gently washing Veronica's hand wound, then wrapping.

Suddenly, her attention moved beyond the butler. Heavens, the stove is still lit. Oh dear. The butler rushed to the flame, quickly turning it off with a heavy. Wherever she went, it must have been in a hurry. And forgive my crudeness had a bathroom emergency. But it's been like this all night.

Like we're serving rations from the Second World War. I do recall the chef expressing concern over a lack of kitchen staff. Oh, she's handled parties on her own before. It should all be routine by now. Besides, William didn't want to hire any additional help. May I inquire as to why? Surely money is not enough. He didn't want anyone to risk their lives in this weather just to serve us.

In the living room, William had offered himself as the fortune-teller's next victim, while Esther confined herself to a corner, seemingly having had enough alleged truth for one night. Temperance. accommodating. Economical? Just look at this place. Now, James, you know this home belongs to my wife's family. I am but a guest of her extravagance. Ooh. Ooh. Chariot card. Which means War. Triumph. Vengeance.

Great Scott! You hear that, William? Sounds like you're going to exact justice on the culprit responsible for tonight's deadly shenanigans. I hope so. The fortune teller took William's hand. You're a man who's never had much in his life, aren't you? It's what your rough, calloused hands are saying. The fortune teller traced the dried creases of William's palms. You're a man who's chopped wood, lifted stone. That's true. Used to be a real blue-collar boy. Hmm. History to

I spent years working in a machine parts factory, even after I married Veronica. Then the war took us overseas. When we came back, nobody was scrambling for parts anymore, so a lot of the factories were shut down or bought out by bigger business. Good thing you had Veronica's inheritance to break your fall, then, eh? Thank God for that. And her terrible taste in men.

Back in the kitchen, the butler tended to a slightly calmer Veronica. How are you feeling? Firm on your feet? A bit. The water is helping. Any pain in your hand? I think it looked worse than it was. But you were right, I do need some sustenance. Is there anything else prepared in the fridge? Well, a rather wet-looking beef wellington. Why could the chef possibly be? Wait.

You don't think that she's gone on a murder spree throughout the house. Well, I wasn't going to say it like that. All of the knives are accounted for. Like she would use her own knives! Look at me. Look at what this party has done to me, accusing my very own chef of heinous things that are most likely the cause of that drunk, awful man out there. Which one? Olivia lingered in the doorway.

Sipping champagne. Taking lessons from George in stealth, are we? I wasn't trying to be discreet. Everyone's so wrapped up in themselves that no one even noticed. Olivia, please, I don't need another stress added to my plate right now. As Veronica gathered herself, she noticed that across the room, the steel door leading to the cold storage room. Was a charge.

The refrigerator door is open. The stove was left on. Goodness, it's like the chef was raised in a barn. George, be a deer and shut that, won't you? It's making the room terribly drafty. As the butler made his way over, his eyes caught a view of the nothing troubling on the ground. There, on the kitchen floor was a small puddle of blood that had begun to pool out from behind the cold storage door. He slowly pulled it open and peered inside. Madam, I...

I believe I found the chef. Veronica quickly ran over to the butler and covered her mouth in horror. And the magician. There, hanging on two meat hooks, were the lifeless bodies of the magician, a bullet wound still embedded in his skull, and the chef, whose cause of death was most likely the sharp hook. That protruded through her chest.

Oh my god! Look away, Olivia! Oh George, this is so horrible. I could scream! Why does this keep happening to me? Yes, you The chef struggled to speak, her final words gurgling. Please tell us quickly who did this to you. Eat The chef's eyes closed as the last breath left her body. It was home.

Chef! I find the timing of this rather curious. Well, I imagine this must have happened when the lights went out. I said we should have kept the candles lit. They were only out for a minute. Wouldn't have been enough time to kill her. And how would you know? Because it takes a full minute to walk here from the living room. The killer would have had to move the magician in that same time.

From where? His body has been missing since Mr. Feinstein's untimely passing. Maybe he never left the room. Maybe someone hit it to throw us off, then waited for the right moment. I suppose it could have occurred during Esther's commotion with the gypsy. Good thinking, George. Hell, maybe that was all a distraction. Which goes back to my first theory that two people here are working together. Possibly Esther and someone else.

Oh for heaven's sakes, now is not the time for your Nancy Drew nonsense, Olivia. Mr. and Mrs. Clark have been upstairs for quite some time. And George, please don't encourage her. Veronica felt herself spiraling out of control again. We cannot talk about this any longer. The more we speculate, the more I I I just can't. Apologies, madam. Miss Olivia's enthusiasm can be quite infectious. I did not mean to cause any undue stress. No, of course not.

Veronica shut the fridge door and grabbed a nearby dish rag. Getting down on all fours, she aggressively blotted the wet blood. This is Billings. Allow me. Just go. Both of you. Make sure the party is still going on and everyone is having a good time. And do not tell William he loved Chef. This will absolutely crush him. We can't hide it forever. Oh, I'm aware, Olivia, and I will tell him myself.

Now go. The butler watched as Veronica's frantic wiping only seemed to spread more of the blood around. I'll fetch the maid. No, it's fine. The less people who know about this the better. I can handle it. Very well. Made their way back to the party room. You know you shouldn't antagonize your mother that way. I'm not doing it on purpose. I mean, not really. It's just well, nothing like tonight has ever happened so clearly.

I've only ever read stories like this in my books. Then perhaps for your mother's sake, you should save your theories for them. Aren't you curious to know who it could be? Curiosity killed the cat. Or maybe a murderer got to it first. first. The butler smirked at Olivia. He, unlike her mother, had always found her droll nature to be quite amusing. All I'm suggesting is that you point that sharp tongue of yours elsewhere for the time being. Fine.

I'll try. As they re-entered the party, the butler returned to his rounds, while Olivia set her sights on the maid, who was just finishing cleaning the carpet. Beatrice, you look like you could use a brush. Not necessary, Miss Olivia. Besides, I don't think your mother would want to want you to enjoy yourself? Come now. She's not a complete monster. I insist. Over here, my little feather duster. I'll be gentle. The maid warily sat across from the fortune teller.

William noticed Beatrice getting her cards read and came over. You know what? Maybe I should go check on George. Nonsense, Beatrice. Please have a go. The fortune teller laid out Beatrice's cards before her. Ah. Golly, this is rather nerve wracking. Reversed Empress. Girl, you must be popular. What? No, I'm not. It usually means you have some suitors after you. like yours. The men at these parties are usually a big fan of hers.

Unless Beatrice, do you have late-night guests after we've all gone to bed? No, of course not. I would never invite anyone into this home without express permission. Her desperate eyes met with William. I swear. William gave her a reassuring pat on the back. It's all right. I believe you. I mean, it could also mean you're indecisive. That sounds more like me.

I guess. Meanwhile, Veronica, in a fresh, new black dress, re-entered the party. Her attention was immediately grabbed by the small group of guests once again gathered around the fortune teller, but more so by her husband's which was resting gently on the maid's back. But then we have the Queen of Swords. Are you by chance a widow? Technically yes. When were you ever married? Just as a teenager.

He was a childhood friend who had been stricken with polio. His time was very short, and his only wish before he died was to get married. So I did it. Huh. Did you love him? Beatrice grew increasingly uncomfortable. In a way, I suppose. I'm seeing a lot of plans to travel in your future. Six of Swords, Eight of Wands. All denote an impending journey. Lucky? What? No. Never go anywhere. I wouldn't.

Of course Beatrice isn't leaving. Where would she even go? Everything she needs is right here in this house. Isn't that right, William, darling? She squeezed her husband's shoulder, lovingly. The maid looked down at the floor, ignoring Veronica's piercing glare. Veronica! What's the word from the chef? Oh, you know, this and that, just uh had a little issue with the meat.

Is all. Uh George will help get it sorted. I hope soon. The guests have really been putting away the liquor. They're a bit on the rowdy side. At least they're enjoying themselves. May I be excused? As long as you don't pack a suitcase. Um it was a joke, Beatrice. My word, lighten up. Yes, very good. Well, I for one am relieved you won't be going anywhere. You'd be sorely missed around here.

By all of us. Yes, all of us. Thank you. That means so very much to me. As Beatrice scurried off, Olivia leaned in close to the fortune teller. Guess your ability is Aren't always so accurate.

Guards don't lie. People do. Across the way, despite Veronica's desperate attempts at dodging, Barbara had made it her mission to corner her once again. I just heard that even your help wants to leave. and she's getting paid to be here. The card reading is just a parlor trick. There's no real truth to it. How can you be so sure? Because the mere notion is ridiculous! Telling the future from a bunch of drawings? I suppose that's true. He did after all tell you your party would turn around. Well

There's no reason why that can't be true. Really? I look around and all I see are reasons. You've filled this house with murderers and grieving widows. hardly the recipe for a good time. Well now that's not fair. It's not like Esther was a grieving widow before she came here. I hope you're not planning on using that as a selling point for your next party, V. Why is she even here to begin with?

She's developed quite a reputation as party poison. Why? Because of the incident at Muffy's? Not just that. but also at my autumn harvest celebration, which you would have known about had you attended. Yes, I'm still very sorry for falling so terribly ill that day, But I heard my husband was an excellent representative of us both. But clearly not quick with the gossip, that's for certain. Why? What happened? Well, I hired a chef who specializes in breakfast cuisine.

He set up this little table where he made these exotic Italian style omelets. Garlic, tomatoes, mozzarella trees, and those little smelly fish. Absolutely delicious. Everyone is eating and having a grand old time, but Esther starts arguing with her husband about God knows what. And the next thing I know, she's on the floor, choking on air. Oh, right, because of the eggs. She was just telling me she developed some kind of allergy to them. Yes, but Muffy's party was after mine.

So that means she already knew she couldn't eat them. And did anyway. Why on earth would she do something like that? Attention, obviously. She's an old bag past her prime. Nobody looks at her the way they do me. Or even you. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if this whole dead husband bit is another one of her ploys. Don't be ridiculous. No woman would be so desperate for attention that she'd kill her husband. But she's clearly benefiting from it.

In more ways than one. She gestured towards Esther, who was still sullen and quiet.

cracking weak smiles as other party guests chatted and made a fuss around her. Veronica considered Barbara's words, but only until a freshly showered and still obviously drunk Roger came back to the room. Nancy, doting dutifully behind him, picking the stray lint from his shirt. Nancy, please. Could hardly tell with the way you've been acting. What did you say? Nothing, dear. It's just you always say that the more seriously dress the politician, the more seriously people take him.

I'm only trying to help. Why don't you help me get another drink? Because I don't think that's a good idea. Then it's a good thing I didn't marry you for your ideas. Roger made his way over to where William and Eggley were cracking open a brand new bottle of gin. Nancy watched him go, disappointed. Veronica noticed her sadness and sidled up to comfort her.

Everything all right? Just fine. Trying to keep my husband from embarrassing himself as usual. You're so lucky William isn't involved in politics. Well, we've got our own problems at the moment that I'm sure no one would prefer, which leads me to this rather awkward question I feel compelled to ask. Yes? Were you and Roger in the restroom this? Whole time. Oh dear why do you ask?

Did something else happen? No, no, just um trying to keep track of everyone given tonight's unfolding and I'm sure I'll have to give a full account to the police when they get here. Roger didn't want me to chaperone his shower, so I perused your lovely library instead. When he hadn't emerged after a long while, I went back to check on him and found him passed out on the guests' coats, soaking wet.

I see. All right. Veronica watched as Roger downed another drink. William and James were trying to curtail him, but Roger was unmanageable. I'm a grown man. I can drink as much as I want. Certainly, but the question of should you remains. Oh who are you? My wife? Have you been talking to my wife?

We're just looking out for your safety and well-being. Should have thought of that before you trapped us in this death hole. Veronica and Nancy witnessed the commotion brewing and rushed to their husband's sides. Now just calm down, Roger. No need to cause a frenzy. Hey, Eggley. When was your last movie? When was the last time anyone gave a shit about Roger! No, no! I wanna know why a Ruski sympathizer has the right to tell me, a red-blooded American, not to cause a frenzy.

Those accusations were and are completely unfounded! That's exactly what somebody trying to hide their enemy connections would say. Now listen here. No you listen! Both of you, listen. Ignoring William's pleas, Roger grabbed Eggley by his shirt collar, swiftly shoving him backwards, sending him tumbling over a table. and taking a lamp with him. The guests all turned to see James Eggley writhing on the ground like a turtle on its back.

William rushed over to help his friend to his feet. You steady? Eggley brushed off his clothes, smoothing the creases in his shirt. He noticed a swath of onlookers. Fear not, fellows, for I was just demonstrating the art of stage combat I perfected during my training as an actor. Impressive, is it not? I'm so sorry. Don't you dare apologize for me. I'm not sorry, and you shouldn't be either. Roger pushed past his wife and disappeared into the crowd. I'm so sorry, William. Truly.

Quite honestly, I think he's a bit scared. Of course he'd never admit that. It's all right, Nancy. Tonight has brought out some of the worst in all of us. Are you hurt, James? A bruise and a scrape, I'm sure, but nothing fatal. That liquor has a habit of turning my husband into the devil.

I think he would do much better if we could put something in his stomach already. We might just need a tad more time. No, Veronica, enough waiting. I'm putting my foot down, if you'll all excuse me. As William marched hurriedly toward his destination, Veronica tailed at

Darling? I don't know what Chef is doing in there, and I'm not sure why you've tolerated this sort of laziness at one of your parties. William, wait! God knows I'm flexible, but if we don't bring our guests more food, they're gonna end up burning this whole place.

That is something I cannot allow. You don't understand! Is this some sort of civil protest? Because I didn't hire more kitchen staff? Not exactly. Because if Chef didn't have her own living quarters here, I would have catered the whole damn thing myself. William, stop! William came to a halt, glaring at his pleading wife. What? What is it? Veronica fidgeted, refusing to meet her husband's eyes. Something I have to show you.

Thank you for listening. We're going to share a preview of Chapter 4 after this quick word from our sponsor. Let me tell you something. Meundies are the softest, most comfortable underwear you'll ever wear down there. For a limited time, get 20% off your first pair, plus free shipping at meandies.com slash dead.

That's me undies.com slash deadly. This episode is brought to you by Audible. You can get a free audiobook and a thirty day trial from Audible just by going to audible dot com slash deadly. That's audible dot com slash deadly. Darkened clouds loom yonder. Tough times are nigh for me. Slow down, baby. Let's let the future unfold a little more. First. Jesus H Christ! Haven't you heard? It's dangerous to be alone in this house.

The future doesn't follow a schedule. Some people don't find what they're looking for until much later in life. I'll get it out of her.