Close to Death

I brought vodka. I didn’t think for a minute that it was going to be a knees-up. Nor would I have wanted such a thing. But after what had happened with Ellery, I needed something to keep up my spirits. We were all upset. And if I may say so, without wishing to be rude to Mrs Strauss, I did think there would be a little more food.

Anyway, we all sat down and we talked about Giles Kenworthy and what we were going to do and somehow the conversation turned to murder.

Adam Strauss

We didn’t mean it seriously! We were just letting off steam! I can’t even remember who started it, but I’m pretty sure it was Roderick. Or Phyllis, talking about the bookshop. It’s hardly surprising when you’ve got two ladies with a whole library of golden age crime. ‘Why don’t we just kill him?’ I’m sure it was Phyllis who started it.

Phyllis Moore

That’s not true.

Adam Strauss

I’m not making accusations. It might have been Roderick. But whoever it was, they didn’t mean it. We’d all had a bit too much to drink, that’s all. He was joking!

Tom Beresford

Roderick didn’t say it. I did.

It was stupid and for what it’s worth, Gemma did try to stop me. Looking after me has become a full-time job for her and don’t think I don’t know it. I said we should kill him and then we all took it in turns suggesting different ways. I started. My idea was to inject a couple of mill of air into his pulmonary veins and hope it would find a way into his cerebral circulation. May suggested cyanide. Do you remember? She said it turns up in lots of crime novels. Teri said she could buy a herb called heartbreak grass in a Hong Kong market. Even Gemma joined in. She talked about doll’s eyes, another poisonous plant. And Andrew was all for pushing him off the roof of a tall building. Oh yes, it was a jolly little evening.

Roderick didn’t hold back. If anything he was more enthusiastic than anyone else, and I’m sure every one of us here remembers what he said. How could we forget? He reminded us that he had a crossbow in his garage. Do you remember what he said? ‘It would be easy. Just ring the front doorbell and put a bolt in him when he answers.’

Teri Strauss

And then Phyllis said – why don’t we all do it together!

Phyllis Moore

It was me. Yes. Of course, it was Agatha Christie who gave me the idea. It was that book where all the suspects do the murder and then afterwards they look after each other. They give each other alibis and things like that. You know the one I mean! It’s been filmed twice and David Suchet did it on television. I do love David Suchet! I don’t think anyone did Poirot better than him. And here’s the funny thing. By coincidence, we’d sold two copies of that very same book that week. Two different people! That probably explains why it was on my mind.

I said we should shoot a bolt into him, each and every one of us. Turn him into a pincushion! That’s what I said.

Andrew Pennington

In retrospect, there was something very strange and psychological going on in that room. Almost a mass hysteria. The idea took hold of us. We were laughing, but at the same time we were saying the most dreadful things. How would we do it? When would we do it? How would we get away with it? I think the situation we were facing – the anger we all felt – had no solution in reality and so we moved into the world of fantasy to hold ourselves together.

Do you understand what I’m saying? Nobody in the room was seriously considering murder. But we were finding some sort of psychological release by expressing it.

Gemma Beresford

There’s not a single person in the world who hasn’t dreamed of killing an unpleasant boss, an irritating husband, a mean teacher, a lying politician. We were just doing the same. But we were doing it out loud.

We all agreed to kill him. And then someone asked the obvious question. Who was going to do it?

Hawthorne

So you drew straws.

May Winslow

You really are very clever, Mr Hawthorne. I don’t know how you worked that out. But you’re right. We talked about playing cards – making the ace of spades the death card. Or throwing a dice. Party games! I used to play something similar with my parents when I was a little girl. We’d sit around the table and we’d choose a killer by drawing matchsticks – and then whoever was the killer had to wink at you, but he had to do it without being seen and the idea was that he’d go on until either someone guessed who it was or there was no one left.