Murder Most Merry

I love a murder mystery. Television's Criminal Minds, Agatha Christie's novels, the complete cases of Sherlock Holmes, an actual murder trial I covered for the local newspaper -- any old murder will do.

And apparently I'm not alone. The murder mystery "just for fun" craze is sweeping the country. Admit, if you will, as evidence, the increasing popularity of parlor games such as "How to Host a Murder" and the weekend retreats to metropolitan hotels staging "participation" murder mysteries for their fun-loving guests.
Lacking the spare $300 required for a weekend escapade, I chose to host a murder instead.

The scene was an icy winter evening in 1936 at the Watersdown Mansion -- otherwise known as my modest two-story home by the river. The not-so-distinguished guests (actually, my relatives -- carefully chosen for the evening on the basis of their thrill-seeking reputations) posed as friend and relatives of Sir Roger Watersdown, principle shareholder of the conglomerate Watersdown Beverages Inc. and tipsy letch extraordinare.

Arriving at my home in regal dress were Dr. Malcolm K.T. "Mal" Praktiss, healer to the rich; Miranda T. Shetes, a beautiful American actress known as Randy; Roger S.B. Astird, a mountain climber who is Sir Roger's illegitimate son -- kidnapped in infancy by his nurse; Dame Allison "Ali" Bigh, a writer of English mystery novels --- at the mansion to gather material for her new book; Prosper Alvin "Pro" Bates, lawyer and sometimes golf companion of Sir Roger; Sir Roger's nephew Donald J. "Donny" Brooks, a one-time fashion model known as the "Far Eastern Eye Shadow Girl"; and Sir Roger's confidential secretary Eiguille R. Aminmund, ERA for short.

The initial amazement at seeing each other in costume and hearing the elaborate accents we had devised could have provided enough entertainment for a full evening. One cousin, dressed in a black slip and black hose, twirled a red feather boa and turned sharply on her heels in caricature of a sleazy star of stage and screen.

I, as the "Far Eastern Eye Shadow Girl," was as surprised as my guests to learn that I was also an acrobat (one of the Flying Wings) who jumped from a human pyramid onto a catapult to send another acrobat into the air.

The real me was about five months pregnant at the time, and the mental image of me sailing through the air in a leotard was simply too much.
But on to the hunt.

The game unfolded to peals of laughter -- replete with Scotland Yard report, a taped recording of an inquisition by Inspector H. Smythe, an intricate blueprint of the fictitious Watersdown Mansion, and player cue manuals for each of the guests.

Shocking secrets revealed as the evening progressed added to the excitement. One of the guests is a compulsive murderer (Gasp!) and an accomplished hypnotist. Another had been guilty of an affair with Sir Roger's late wife (Oh, my!) and then murdered her. An innocent looking chap is actually a terrorist assassin for a radical political group.

Each player, armed with intimate knowledge about the other guests, is privy to his own secrets and challenged to cover the facts. He may not, however, lie about the facts if confronted directly. The best defense -- as known by any card-carrying criminal -- is to cast suspicion elsewhere. And cast we did!
Accusations flew, and the animated conversation at times reached fever pitch.

The best part was that even the murderer did not know he (or she?) had killed off Sir Roger until the final round of play.

Jolly good fun, eh? And we hated to end it. It's a welcome change of pace to wear outlandish clothes and talk with an accent about outrageous acts you'd never have the nerve to carry out -- that's the thrill of it.

My fellow closet-sleuths can enjoy one of a dozen or so mysteries put together by "How to Host A Murder," most in the $30 price range. Most are designed for up to eight players.

How much fun you have is in direction proportion to how willing you are to "play," but a good assortment of food and and drink helps out a lot.