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pointed at me. “I had just noticed that. She must have
killed Mrs. Peabody. Poisoned her and then destroyed the glass to
cover her crime.”
    A chorus of gasps caused me to turn in a
circle. The entire dinner party, dead woman included, pressed into
the kitchen.
    o0o
    “Mr. Blore, Captain Egg, detain her!” our
loving hostess called out.
    Both men took steps toward me. I scowled,
causing Blore to rethink his next move.
    Egg, aka my boyfriend, however, was
undeterred. He placed his hand around my arm and gave it a light
squeeze. “I have her. Should I take her to my cabin for
questioning?” His finger moved up and down the bare skin of my
upper arm.
    Lady York frowned. “I don’t think that will
be necessary. Dr. Armstrong, what did you discover from the
body?”
    Armstrong pulled his cheat card from his
pocket and cleared his throat. “The victim was most definitely
poisoned. Unfortunately, without access to my laboratory, I can’t
say by what substance.”
    All eyes turned back to me.
    “Perhaps she still has it on her,” Peter
suggested. His free hand wandered a bit, roaming down my side to
the curve of my hip.
    However, being accused of murder as I was, I
was not in a mood to play. I kicked backward, aiming for his
shin.
    My aim was good, but his leather boots
blunted the blow. He chuckled.
    Lady York gave him a disapproving look
before getting back into role. “I doubt she would be naive enough
to leave any evidence on her, especially if she had the foresight
to get rid of the glass.”
    “But when did she get rid of the glass?”
Emily Brent wanted to know.
    Mandrake it seemed had an answer. “When she
brought the tray in. I thought it odd that when Mrs. Peabody fell,
Ann continued on into the kitchen.”
    “Yes,” Lady York agreed. “She isn’t the most
dedicated of workers.”
    I raised a brow.
    “And we were all occupied looking at Mrs.
Peabody,” Mr. Blore added, obviously warming up to the idea of me
as the killer.
    I folded my arms over my chest and leaned
against the counter. The kangaroo court was off and hopping. I
couldn’t see how I could say anything to stop them, especially
since for all I knew I had killed Mrs. Peabody... pretend killed
that was.
    The dead body in question leaned against the
counter next to me. “They have you on motive, but what about means?
What do you know of poison?” she suggested.
    No one looked at her. Not that that could
have been expected. She was dead after all.
    I, however, wasn’t. I cleared my throat and
said, “But I don’t know anything about poison. I wouldn’t have any
idea what to give someone to kill them so quickly.”
    That stopped them for a moment. They dug in
their pockets and pulled out their cards. Emphasis on the plural
there. Everyone except me and Mrs. Peabody seemed to have a stack
of cards; I still had only one.
    I could only guess there had been more
handed out while Mandrake and I had been in the kitchen and his
initial envelope must have been much fuller than mine.
    I was beginning to suspect that I had been
cast as patsy as much as maid.
    Killer, fine, but patsy? I didn’t care for
that at all.
    I stepped away from the counter and Peter’s
loose grip. I pointed at Mr. Blore. “What about him? He mixed the
drinks. Or maybe...” I swiveled until Mandrake was in my sights.
“The butler. He had the tray with the glasses. Maybe he added the
poison to Mrs. Peabody’s glass before it was filled. Or... Vera
Claythorne. She told me she worked for a pharmaceutical company,
and I saw her give Mrs. Peabody a pill. Or maybe the poison wasn’t
even ingested. Maybe the killer pricked her with a dart or even
shot her from across the room.” I turned my attention to Peter.
“Captain Egg, where did you say you served? It wouldn’t have been
Africa, would it? Home of the boomslang snake?”
    Peter, damn him, didn’t miss a beat. He
turned to our host. “No, but Sir Arthur was just telling us of his
adventures on the Dark