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hand in the red elbow-length glove, which made the fringe along the bottom wobble.
    “Care to ask me any questions?”
    “Where are you hiding the jewels?”
    “Nice try, but we’re not going to make it that easy for you to uncover the villain.”
    “I had to try,” I explained. “Suppose you tell me about your boyfriend, Archie Winters.”
    “What is there to tell? Archie is a lot of fun and that’s what this girl needs. Besides, he gives me trinkets.”
    “Valuable trinkets?”
    “Sometimes.”
    “Where do you keep these trinkets?”
    “In the hotel safe.”
    “Smart girl.”
    “Very.”
    I couldn’t tell if it was the character she was playing that I was reacting to or the woman beneath the role; in either case, I liked Ms. Daniels. I would have liked to have had an extended conversation with her, but at that moment there came the series of reports from a gun out in front of the inn followed by the screeching tires of a car pulling away at high speed. Everyone rushed to the front doors, followed by me. When I made it outside, I found that people had fanned out in a circle around a fallen man. There was fake blood in a pool beneath his body and holes oozing blood from his back. I looked for the Chief and was pleased to see that he hadn’t drawn his firearm in the excitement.
    “Good God, Archie,” Lady Winters proclaimed as she ran to stand beside the body.
    “Did anyone see what happened out here?” the Chief asked.
    “I think the person who shot Archie got away in a fast car,” Colin Collins presumed.
    I felt like slapping my forehead to express my contempt at Colin’s obvious observation. An even stronger feeling slapped me before I got a chance. I had lived through this experience before. I’d never had such a powerful sense of déjà vu in my life. As strong as this feeling was, I had an even stronger feeling that the story was playing itself out behind me, in the lobby of the Morningside Inn, not out here in the customer drop-off area. This was a clever distraction.
    I rushed back through the doors as fast as the doormen could open them. The lobby was as I’d left it, with one notable exception. A body lay face down on the stage. She was dressed all in red. The color of her dress helped to hide the dark stain forming around the knife sticking out of her back. Unlike the scene created for our amusement out front, this one appeared real. I approached hesitantly.
    “Look, Chloe’s found another body!” someone called.
    This prompted a rush of game players from outside the inn back into the lobby. Again, the group formed a ring that slowly closed on the scene of the crime. I knelt beside the body to take a pulse. There was none.
    “I don’t believe you’re supposed to touch the actors,” Colin scolded.
    I looked up to see Colin Collins not three feet away from where I knelt, hands on his hips and looking down at me disapprovingly.
    “But, Colin, she’s dead.”
    “Of course she is. Why do you think they call this a murder mystery dinner?”
    “No. I mean she’s really dead.”
    Colin guffawed at me.
    “Is she really dead?” a male character in a flamboyant New Orleans-style party mask asked.
    “Yes, she’s really dead,” I verified. “Look, Colin. Whether you believe me or not, go find the Chief.”
    “I’m right here, Boston,” the Chief said, pushing to the front of the crowd and taking a knee beside me.
    “She’s dead,” I declared.
    “You mean, she’s really dead?” Colin asked, backing away.
    I heard the heel of his shoe crunch down on something that broke beneath his weight. Before he lifted his shoe to reveal the piece of evidence he’d destroyed, I already knew that he had stepped on a small handmade glass ballerina that was meant to be found beside the murder victim’s hand.
    “What is it, Boston? I can tell by the expression on your face that you’ve come up with something.”
    “I have, Chief. This woman was murdered and what’s more, I know who murdered