Mrs Bennet and the Body in the Library

By Susannah Donim

Chapter Fifteen – What Mrs Bennet Did Next

What does the future hold for Mike, Michelle and Holly?

Between them the two detectives managed to pull Sam off me and handcuff her, before she could do much damage.

“Sergeant, would you please take Miss Spears to the station and charge her?” said Giddings. “Take the uniforms with you. I don’t think they’ll be needed here any longer. I’m going to stay and debrief Mr Bradshaw.”

Sam had begun to calm down. She reacted when the inspector called me by my real name.

“So they know who you are! You’ve been on their side all along?” she snapped at me.

“There aren’t really any sides, Sam,” I said in my normal voice. “There’s just the multiple murderer and… everyone else.”

“I’ll get you for this somehow, one day,” she hissed.

One of the uniformed policemen who had been guarding us knocked and entered at that point, and he and the sergeant led Sam away. She didn’t struggle at all.

“I really didn’t think it was going to work,” I said to Giddings. “When she first came in she was looking all around her. She seemed very suspicious.”

“Well, she knew about the cameras,” he said. “Maybe she thought your room would be bugged.”

I laughed. “And it wasn’t the room that was bugged – it was me.”

I took the tiny transmitter out of my ear. I was glad that this brilliant piece of surveillance technology had superseded wearing a wire, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to take my bra off. The detectives had heard and recorded everything since Sam entered the room.

“We couldn’t have bugged every room,” Giddings said, “and Miss Spears had no real reason to suspect yours would be, did she? But I agree with you. It began to look like she was too wary to give herself away. I think it was when you kept on insisting that you loved Miss Woodbridge and not her, that she lost control.”

He sat down on the camp bed so recently occupied by the said multiple murderer. Remembering I was wearing only a shortie nightie and frilly knickers, I reached for my dressing gown. It was cold, OK? Nothing to do with feminine modesty, or being alone in my boudoir (such as it was) with a man.

“I have to thank you for your help, Mr Bradshaw,” Giddings said.

“I think you can call me ‘Mike’, Inspector, after all we’ve been through together,” I said. “Mind you, I’d prefer ‘Michelle’ or ‘Mrs Bradshaw’ when there’s anyone else around. There could still be awkward consequences for The Pride and Prejudice Experience if anyone outside our inner circle finds out Mrs Bennet has been played by a man.”

A horrible thought struck me. “Sam will tell everyone, won’t she? Out of spite.”

“Probably, but maybe not,” he said. “She may prefer to keep your secret until she can use it to her own advantage.”

“Keep it as a threat hanging over me, you mean? Blackmail?”

He nodded. “You have to understand that Miss Spears ticks all the boxes for psychopathy.” He counted them off on his fingers. “Lying, manipulation, lack of morality, lack of empathy, narcissism, psychological bullying, lack of contrition, and self-serving victimhood.”

He smiled when he saw my reaction. I hadn’t realised this policeman was such an intellectual, and it must have shown on my face.

“I did an external degree in Criminology,” he explained. “Despite what you might think from crime thrillers, killings like these are almost always done by someone unbalanced. Of our suspects, only Miss Spears had the kind of upbringing that could turn a person with the right psychological makeup into a full-blown psychopath. Your sister’s attempt to cheat her out of her earnings might well have been the trigger. Miss Spears would have felt she had the right to kill her. Mr Miller and Miss Woodbridge were collateral damage, but by then she would be seeing them as in her way and feel fully justified in disposing of them.”

I shuddered. “So when did you start to suspect her?”

“The key was when we learned the other names associated with the little sex parties at Miss Mathews’ flat.”

“Douglas and Sam?”

“That’s right. Mr Miller was living there, although he had no involvement himself – in fact he moved out as soon as he saw what your sister was doing – but he knew all about it, and he knew that Miss Spears was joining in. He also must have known about their disagreement over money, so when Miss Matthews was killed, he could easily deduce who had done it. So he had to die as well.”

“But you were bound to find out that Sam was Hannah’s other flatmate.”

“Yes, but there was no proof that she was involved in the sex parties. She was never charged with anything. She had been careful. There was no evidence against her, and anyway taking money for sex isn’t a crime.”

“So if none of their clients would be willing to talk, she would be in the clear?” I said.

“Indeed. We’ve asked our colleagues in the Met to check, but they never managed to identify any of Hannah’s customers, apart from the family friend who started the whole thing, and Miss Spears never had anything to do with him. It’s probably too late now. So everything else was just Samantha’s word against Hannah’s. And with Mr Miller and your sister both dead, she must have thought she was in the clear.

“There were a couple of other things,” Giddings added. “As you know, we guessed that the killer must have come down for a tour of the Estate sometime, which is how they knew the layout of the Hall and the way up to the roof platform. We found Miss Woodbridge’s name in the Visitors’ Book on a day we knew she couldn’t have been here, and the entry was in Miss Spears’ handwriting, though the sample wouldn’t have been enough to convince the Crown Prosecution Service.

“Also, when we interviewed Amy Longhurst, she confirmed that she and Miss Spears went for a run around the Estate most mornings, but not on the day Mr Miller was killed. Samantha claimed to have a hangover, so Amy went by herself. Obviously Samantha got up as soon as Amy left and went to meet Mr Miller on the roof of the Hall.

“The trouble was she had been very clever – and lucky. We found her footprints on the library floor, but unfortunately we also found those of practically everyone else in the house. She must have seen our men installing the cameras and worked out exactly how to avoid them when she went to try and kill Miss Woodbridge. So we still had no evidence against her. But I had a hunch that the killer’s motivation – irrational as it was – had something to do with you. So thank you for your cooperation in helping us trap her. You realise you will probably have to testify about your part in this?”

“What? Why?”

This wasn’t something I wanted to hear. Would I have to enter the witness box as Mike or Michelle?

“Because without your testimony the Defence will challenge the authenticity of the recording. Without her confession we don’t have enough. Anyway, thanks again. You’ve been very courageous.”

“There was no reason for me to be afraid really, was there?” I said modestly. “I’m bigger and stronger than her.”

“Douglas Miller was much bigger and stronger,” he said.

“Well, I wouldn’t have gone up on a roof with her. Forewarned is forearmed. Also, my various prosthetic enhancements would make it difficult for her to penetrate my real flesh with any pointed instrument.”

“Yes, I’d dearly like to know how you came by them. You’re not the first such undetectable female impersonator I’ve come across lately. I’m just afraid someone may be using the system for criminal purposes.”

“Oh, I’m sure they aren’t,” I said, although Ingrid herself admitted that she couldn’t be certain. “Anyway, I’ve promised not to say.”

I needed to change the subject. “How is Amy, by the way?” I asked.

“She’s fine,” he said. “She’ll be back at home with her parents by now, I should think. I doubt she’ll ever forgive us for what we put her through, but I think she understands why we did it. We arrested her to make Miss Spears think she was in the clear. Besides, it was safer for her – she was another potential victim after all. Of course, we couldn’t let her into the plot till she was off the premises. Her reaction had to be absolutely genuine.”

“Even so, I’m surprised Sam bought it,” I said.

“Part of her psychopathy,” he said. “She made a few desultory attempts to frame Amy – not really convincing – but her narcissism was enough to make her think she’d fooled us. Amy being arrested for her crimes fitted perfectly with her self-centred world view.”

He stood up and looked at his watch.

“It’s late and you need your beauty sleep.” He chuckled at his own jocular remark. “I’ll be back in the morning to put everyone else in the picture. Then you can all go home.”

* * *

The next day the two detectives gathered everyone together and returned our mobile phones. Then they recounted the incidents of the night, omitting quite a lot of details. In particular, they minimised my role in proceedings and kept the specifics of the cameras and recording device to themselves. No one seemed to notice any gaps in the story. Everyone was astonished and upset about having harboured Sam the psychopath in their midst for so long.

My first task the next day was to call my mother and apologise for not having been in touch. She said that would have been difficult anyway as they had gone straight to the Royal Marsden on returning from their cruise. She had received the message from Inspector Giddings there. She was horrified at what had happened to Hannah and took the difficult decision to keep it from Keith for the moment, being afraid that the awful news would affect his chances of recovery. He was suffering from the side effects of the chemo, but there were some promising signs of remission. Mum had been very worried about Holly and me too, so she was delighted to hear that it was all over.

It was now time to check out of Hadleigh House at last. There were some tearful goodbyes. Most of us would be together again in just over a month for the next term at Uni, but it was a final farewell for Tom and Linda. Tom insisted on hugging everyone and tried to kiss me on the lips, but I turned my head at the last moment and he just brushed my cheek. He didn’t seem offended.

“Goodbye, wife,” he said, with a twinkle. “It’s been a pleasure and a privilege being married to you.”

Silly old fool! Still, I would miss him.

I was off to visit Holly in hospital next. I would have to identify myself as her aunt. Since this would be my last performance as Auntie Michelle, I put on my best dress, a new pair of tights and my two-inch heels. I took my time over my makeup. I was getting quite competent now. I put my wig up in a tidy, matronly bun.

I reasoned that if I had to be a middle-aged woman, then why wouldn’t I want to be the best-looking middle-aged woman possible? Anyway, I couldn’t imagine being out in public now without my makeup, or with my hair not neat and tidy. Checking my efforts in the bathroom mirror, I saw I looked just like my nursery school teacher, Miss Platt. (She was lovely.)

With my earnings from The Pride and Prejudice Experience and Keith’s monthly stipend, I didn’t have to worry about money anymore, so I treated myself to a taxi. I didn’t have much choice anyway, as I had to take all of Holly’s clothes with me as well as my own (that is, Michelle’s). Two packed suitcases plus my rucksack would have been a pain to carry on the bus.

When I got to Holly’s private room, she was sitting up in bed reading, clearly bored out of her skull, which was sore and bandaged like the Invisible Man, but thankfully not fractured.

“Hey, babe!” she said happily when she saw me. “What did I miss?”

I told her the whole story. She listened goggle-eyed and shell-shocked. I think it was the longest I had ever been able to speak to Holly without being interrupted.

She made one or two remarks about my heroism in acting as bait for a killer. “But I never said I preferred Michelle to Mike!” was her only other comment.

“I’m sure you didn’t,” I lied. “Sam had a very flexible relationship with the truth.”

“I still can’t believe it was her,” she said. “We were all friends!”

“And of course it’s impossible to accept that she would try to kill you for me,” I said, wryly.

“No, I can believe that – just about,” she smiled. “Stop fishing for compliments!”

“Would it hurt if I kissed you?”

“Only one way to find out.”

I moved to suit the action to the words.

“Owww!” she squealed. “You’d better dial it back. It does hurt, and anyway my Auntie shouldn’t be kissing me like that. Someone might come in.”

“Your Auntie won’t be around much longer. I’m off to Transformations from here.”

“That’s a shame,” she said. “I shall miss her.”

I was afraid I might too, but I wasn’t going to tell her that.

“How’s your Dad, by the way?” I said, to change the subject.

“He’s much better. I spoke to Mum on the phone. They’re back home now. He can’t do anything for himself yet and he’s driving her mad. They wanted to come and see me when I told them I’d had an accident, but I told them I was fine. It was just a little bang on the head and I’d be up and about soon.”

I couldn’t think of a savage, if glancing, blow from a hammer as ‘just a little bang on the head’ but I was grateful that she could. Her doctor wasn’t quite ready to release her yet, so I promised to return the next day to take her home.

My next stop was Transformations where Vera removed my prostheses and I could see Mike in the mirror again for the first time in over a month. It was weird. I found myself panicking on behalf of both Mrs Bennet and Auntie Michelle. What would my daughters do without me? My husband would miss me – and I him! Where were my boobs and my big round bum? I seemed to be experiencing some sort of Identity Drift. Was that a recognised psychological condition?

Vera said she would keep my Michelle prostheses for a while – just in case. I told her not to bother. I would never need them again.

Not having any male clothes with me, I had to dress in a pair of Michelle’s slacks and my plainest blouse, both of which were ridiculously baggy on me. I also had to put my tights back on with my flattest shoes. I felt a strange sense of regret as I put my bra, knickers and floral dress away in the suitcase. I was surprised to see that I had unconsciously packed my embroidery too. My efforts were pretty ropey but I’d felt I was making progress. I had started to enjoy it; it was calming, even Zen. Maybe I should try and keep it up? Would that satisfy the Michelle and Mrs Bennet personalities that were clearly still inside me?

I set off for home, where I could dress in my usual clothes. I realised that it wasn’t as appealing a prospect as I had expected it to be. I had hoped being Michelle wouldn’t have any lasting effect, but I was beginning to see that wasn’t realistic…

* * *

I collected Holly from the hospital the next day in my mother’s little Yaris. When we got to her parents’ place she was pleased that her father was looking much better than when she had seen him last. We had to tell Richard and Susan all about our dramatic summer. They’d had no idea how much danger their daughter had been in and lavished me with praise for looking after her. I was sure she would laugh and say I hadn’t done anything really, but she just smiled and winked at me. I didn’t mention the part I had played in The Pride and Prejudice Experience, and surprisingly nor did Holly. Her parents might have guessed I was Mrs Bennet (and Michelle in the evenings) but they didn’t ask, presumably to spare my blushes.

* * *

Life slowly started to get back to normal. Keith’s cancer was responding to treatment, though it would still be weeks before they could be sure he was out of the woods. My mother looked pale and thin, but she was staying hopeful. When we finally told him what had happened to Hannah he was very angry that we had kept it from him till now, but he eventually calmed down, and agreed that the news of his daughter’s death might have been too much for him in his fragile condition early on in the chemotherapy.

He was especially sad that she had died while they were estranged. He’d hoped they would be reconciled eventually but obviously that could never happen now. He blamed himself for not being there in her formative years. She’d lacked for nothing material, he said, but missed a father’s love and support. We assured him that he shouldn’t blame himself.

Privately Mum and I were confident that nothing he could have done would have made any difference. Hannah was a vicious, selfish bitch who took advantage of everyone around her. Still, she didn’t deserve to die for that.

* * *

A few days after our return home I was summoned back to Holly’s place so that we could make our plans for a short foreign break. I fancied Rome and Florence; Holly wanted a sun, sea and sand holiday, perhaps on a Greek island. So with about three weeks left of the summer vacation we were browsing websites for Greece, when an e-mail arrived from Dennis Vaughan. It came in on the account I had set up for Michelle Bradshaw, which I hadn’t got round to deleting yet. Holly received it on her laptop at the same time and whooped with excitement.

“You will do it, won’t you, Mike?”

I was still reading it. Then I saw why she was so excited.

“I don’t know, Holly. I thought that was all over with.”

To compensate for the project having to close early, Dennis wanted to make a TV film to be called The Pride and Prejudice Experience. It would be a semi-documentary with a mix of our scenes from the end of term show and interviews with all of the cast members, both as themselves and in character. The extra dialogue would be improvised and based on what we had said to our visitors. He had already got a producer interested. Apparently, she had visited us the previous month and had been impressed. She loved the idea that every aspiring actor was still an amateur.

The Earl and Countess were enthusiastic and happily gave their consent for all the filming to be done at Hadleigh House. The costumes and props were still there. From the proceeds of the sale of the film to the TV production company, we would receive the same weekly pay as before, and the Hadleigh Estate would be able to complete the renovations.

“Come on, Mike!” Holly persisted. “This is an opportunity to be on telly! Think how good that will be for your career!”

“I can see it would be good for your career, and for Michelle’s, but it can’t help Mike’s, can it?”

“That’s just nit-picking,” she scoffed. “Look, if enough of the cast want to do it, you have to join in, OK?”

She immediately put a message on the cast WhatsApp group. They’d all had the same e-mail and within minutes everyone had replied in the affirmative, even Amy, who I would have expected to want nothing more to do with The Pride and Prejudice Experience, or indeed with any of us. Perhaps she wanted to relive her triumph as Lady Catherine. In any case, there was no escape.

“Leave it all to me,” Holly said gleefully. “I’ll call Dennis and then Ingrid.”

* * *

So it was that I had to return to Transformations to be turned back into Michelle (Vera managed to avoid saying ‘I told you so’ when she retrieved my prostheses from their Archive), and then on to Hadleigh House to take my place once again as the matriarch of the Bennet family.

The filming was mostly straightforward. Everyone remembered their lines from the end of term show, and we had all spent more than a month improvising greater depth for our characters. Tom, the veteran professional, was soon word perfect as Mr Bennet. Through the Countess’s contacts at the Lavenden Amateur Dramatic Society, Dennis found an eager young man called Dave to play Wickham and a very pretty girl called Jill to take over as Lydia.

Most of the Longbourn scenes were easily reset in Hadleigh House, and the Countess made the Hall available for those based at Netherfield, and for other locations such as the whist party. There were plenty of places around the Estate where the outside scenes could take place.

The film would open with all of us actors in modern dress arriving at Hadleigh House in a coach. There would be interviews in which Dennis explained the idea behind The Pride and Prejudice Experience and we actors would say how excited we were, and what we expected from the summer.

The next scene showed Amy in one of the back bedrooms – i.e., the servants’ quarters – dressing herself. A lady’s maid doesn’t have a lady’s maid, of course, so this scene explained something I had been wondering. How does a maid do up her own corset?

Sheila had always done it for Amy before. She explained that you can lace yourself into it but it’s fiddly and will take ages if you don’t know what you’re doing. She provided a corset that was fastened using buttons. You tied the laces before you put it on, and not too tightly as maids have to be able to bend down.

Amy dressing herself was just a prelude to the main event – Hill helping her mistress get ready for the day. Vivienne, the producer (“Call me ‘Viv’,”) had attended one of my sessions and thought it was hilarious. So she was determined it would be in the film.

As usual, I was thoroughly embarrassed having people watching while my boobs and tummy were squashed into my corset; the more so, because the rest of the cast were giggling (quietly) from behind the camera. None of them had seen this spectacle before as most of them had been involved in dressing sessions of their own, or had been up at the Hall dressing visitors.

Viv included a very brief snatch of Holly and Hilary helping each other dress, while they talked about men and marriage. Otherwise it was much the same as Amy dressing me, but nothing like as funny.

From there we progressed through the script of the end of term show, interspersed with interviews of cast members talking about their 19th Century lives and filling in the gaps in the story. Holly repeated her triumph as Lizzy and effortlessly dominated every scene she was in. Amy had a whale of a time being Lady Catherine again – in a gorgeous dress, heavy age makeup, and a resplendent wig.

In my pieces I tried to get across those of Mrs Bennet’s preoccupations I had described in the Literary Adaptation class which had got me into this stupid situation in the first place. I had to do the ‘dressing for dinner’ scene, of course, with the camera shamelessly focusing on my bosom in the push-up corset and low-cut dress.

The crew included two film units so that when any of us weren’t involved in a scene from the show, we could be doing our character interviews. It was a hectic time, and it did feel that things were a little rushed, but the efficient use of resources meant that the filming was finished well before our new term was due to start, as promised.

We actors didn’t expect to be involved in any of the phases of post-production – video editing, colour grading, sound editing, addition of music, visual effects, etc – so we prepared to leave Hadleigh House for the last time (again). Sheila and Esther started packing up all the fabulous Regency clothes that we had been wearing for so long, and I set up my appointment at Transformations to change back to Mike.

But it seemed that Viv was keen to support the next generation of movie technicians as well as actors, and had recruited a student director and a student film crew. (Also they were cheap). Unfortunately, they were as amateur as us actors. For some scenes the lighting wasn’t right; for others the sound levels were inconsistent; sometimes the traffic on the M25 or a passing aeroplane had come through clearly to the 19th Century. Also, some of the interviews hadn’t worked and would need to be redone. We had to re-record certain lines of dialogue and we had to get back into costume to film additional material for some of the improvised sections.

They also decided that as long as we were all there, they might as well film a few additional scenes. Holly told Viv that I had worked on the script for the original show, and I was pleased when she recruited me to help with the new material. I thought this would be good for my future career as a writer for TV and the movies, until I realised that the experience would go on Michelle’s CV, not Mike’s.

In the end we were asked to stay on for another week – or two. I cancelled my appointment at Transformations. It was a nuisance – there went our summer holiday – but I realised I didn’t mind too much. I was quite used to being Michelle and Mrs Bennet by now. Holly even seemed pleased that her time with her Auntie had been extended.

Finally the film was ‘in the can’ and everyone was satisfied – with a week to go before the start of term.

Then the TV company saw the film. They loved it, which was good, and they intended to spend a lot of time and money promoting it, which turned out to be bad, at least for me. They wanted publicity photos of us all both in costume and in modern dress, and they planned to record more interviews for promo ads. We were warned that all this would take weeks, if not months. We would be able to go back to Uni, but would need to be ‘on call’ at short notice. We didn’t dare reveal Michelle’s true identity for fear of wrecking the whole project, so I had to stay in my middle-aged amateur actress disguise. Not that any of us were amateurs anymore. With the company’s sponsorship, our applications to Equity came through quickly. We were now professionals and could be paid properly.

Everyone who knew my true identity was sworn to secrecy. I asked Viv to use a pseudonym for my credit in the cast list. She didn’t ask why, which was just as well as I could hardly explain that it was to avoid any connection with Mike Bradshaw. We settled on ‘Michelle Miller’. It was the least I could do, given that poor Douglas’s death was a roundabout consequence of Sam’s obsession with me.

In my promo interview I tried to say as little as possible about myself. I was a mature student at the same university as the others; I had been involved with amateur dramatics for a while; and I agreed to play Mrs Bennet as a favour to my niece, Holly Woodbridge. Most of which was true, if intentionally misleading.

Dr MacNair was happy to welcome lady mature student, Michelle Miller, into his class, and cleared it with my tutor and Professor Rooney for Michelle to substitute for Mike Bradshaw in all his other courses. (I began to wonder whose name would be on my diploma at the end of the academic year.)

My classmates thought this was a hoot – those who didn’t suspect me of being a closet transsexual – and teased me mercilessly as long as there was no one around who wasn’t in on the joke. Holly didn’t torment me to the same extent, but she treated me as her aunt everywhere and all the time, except in the bedroom.

As it now looked like Michelle would be around for some time, I had my long hair done in an appropriate middle-aged lady style and at last dispensed with my wig. I don’t have to put curlers in (thank heavens), but I do need a long session at the hairdressers every couple of weeks, like any other woman of my age. I’ve learned a lot of feminine secrets while I’m there. I’ll miss the gossip and the beauty tips when I eventually go back to being Mike.

Mike does put in an appearance every two or three weeks when I return to Transformations to get a waxing and have my prostheses cleaned. My body hair doesn’t seem to be growing as much as it used to, and I’m a little concerned that the lotion Vera rubs on me afterwards might have something to do with that, but as long as it isn’t affecting my prowess in bed I won’t worry too much. I always try to fit in a proper Date Night with Holly as my real self before letting them put all my jiggly flesh and feminised face back on, but often there isn’t time. Michelle leads a busy life.

Holly has dragged me off to an expensive womenswear boutique to get some more fashionable clothes, including an evening gown for the film’s premiere, even though that probably won’t happen till after Christmas. That will be another embarrassing night with my plentiful boobs on prominent display for the press. Oh well, if you’ve got ‘em, flaunt ‘em.

* * *

Vivienne is talking about offering Holly and me parts in an upcoming cop show as mother and daughter, hoping to trade on the popularity of The Pride and Prejudice Experience. Holly would be a Police Detective Inspector and I would be her interfering Mum, a retired cop who’s always telling her what to do. It could even be a series. Viv’s made it clear that it would be a package – both of us or neither. Holly is desperate to do it, of course. She reckons it would make her career and that Michelle could retire after that.

Also, having seen me squeezing my assets into a 19th Century corset, Viv is talking to one of her contacts in the fashion industry about offering me work as a mature, ‘plus size’ model, especially of exotic lingerie. I was about to laugh in her face until she told me how much I could expect to be paid. We may not be short of money anymore, but this could set us up for life. I also need to pay Holly – or more accurately her Dad – back for the cost of Transformations, which was far more than I’d realised.

Holly is very keen on the idea of my modelling career (as are Ingrid and Vera). I’m just worried that the longer I stay as Michelle, the more difficult it will be to give her up. On the plus side, Holly shows me more respect when I’m her Auntie Michelle. She even listens to what I say (sometimes). My embroidery is coming on well too. I might even take up knitting.

I don’t always do absolutely everything Holly tells me to do, just most of the time.

THE END

Author’s Note – Red Herrings, Easter Eggs and Chekhov’s Gun

Boy, writing a ‘whodunnit’ is hard! Besides coming up with the plot and the characters, you also have to provide background and alternative motives for all your suspects, and then you have to introduce enough Red Herrings that the reader won’t guess the villain too quickly. If I’d expanded the suspect list properly (to include Tom, Derek, Rob, Hilary and Linda, say), I reckon the novel could have been at least 50% longer – but that might have tried the patience of you Big Closet readers a little too much. I’ve probably overdone it as it is.

The whole story was finished (apart from a few tweaks in Chapter 15) before I started posting, but the comments you have so kindly left in reviews have been really interesting, so let me briefly comment on the comments.

First, Easter Eggs: as some of my readers will know, I tend to re-use my characters frequently. For example, the Countess, Mary Manners, Giddings and Sharpe all appeared in The Earl Maid. So when Giddings said “My God, another one!” in Chapter 12, it wasn’t a clever clue to the murderer’s identity in this story, it was an ‘Easter Egg’, referring back to The Earl Maid. Mary Manners, and her love of dressing as a maid, was also intended as a big Easter Egg. In fact, she turned out to be a completely unintentional Red Herring, because some reviewers thought she was a suspect! (The Earl Maid itself made use of characters from After the Pantomime and Acting as a Cleaning Lady, by the way.)

‘Chekhov’s Gun’ is a device to foreshadow an important plot element. “One must never place a loaded rifle on the stage if it isn't going to go off. It's wrong to make promises you don't mean to keep,” said Anton Chekhov in a letter to a friend. I guess introducing the shooting and archery ranges was a Chekhov’s Gun, because the murderer might have been about to arrange a killing there. I try to make my unbelievable stories as believable as possible, so I put in a lot of detail. The downside of that is accidentally introducing lots of Chekhov’s Guns!

Chekhov’s principle might be good for a stage play but not for a whodunnit, I think. The author should be piling on the Red Herrings to keep the reader guessing. One or more of them might turn out to be a Chekhov’s Gun, but that’s the fun of it. My Red Herrings included Amy and Hannah being schoolmates; Diane dressing Hannah at the Hall; and the fat lady who didn’t fit in the green dress. There are probably loads more.

Enough. You have lots of other Big Closet stories to read. Goodnight and may your God go with you.

Susannah