Tobias held his breath as the detectives examined the body. A rich and extravagantly dressed French woman was lying dead on the cold floor of the banquet hall. Something was askew and an uneasy chill hung in the air. Lady Marcella Beauregard, one of the wealthiest and most respected women in all of France had suddenly dropped dead, and no one could fathom why. The only evidence surrounding her death was a toppled goblet and a shattered pearl necklace.

“The murder was clearly done by poison,” one of the detectives said to no one in particular. “The lack of blood and suddenness of her death are enough to support that claim.”

“Someone must have slipped it in her drink as they subtly passed by,” Tobias replied. “Chances are they’re long gone now.”
“You’re wrong about that Mr. Grimwood,” replied Master Hugh, Marcella’s husband and planner of the party. “Five guests arrived, and five guests remain, excluding me. The banquet hall has been under maximum security the entire time. No one could have possibly snuck in unnoticed.”

“Well that can mean only one thing,” Tobias reasoned, “Out of the six of us standing in this room, we have a traitor in our midst.” More uneasy silence followed as realization sunk in. Solemn faces stared at each other as if trying to guess who the assassin was.
“Including Master Hugh there are six suspects here and any amount of you could be responsible for Lady Marcella’s death,” one of the inspectors declared. “Even if only one of you was responsible, one out of six are not favorable odds knowing that all you will be held under public scrutiny for years to come. Confess now for a lighter sentence.”

As no one spoke, Tobias carefully observed everyone in the room. First there was Master Hugh himself, a wealthy French architect around age 35 with dark brown hair and hazel eyes. He appeared to have been on good terms with Marcella but one could never be too certain.
Then there was the pompous and cheery Lady Madeline. In her late twenties, she was a leading model whose chestnut brown hair, wide smile, and bubbly laughter made Tobias certain she had something to hide.

In contrast, Lady Roxanne was a stern and strict woman known for her dry sense of humor. Her long black hair fell down to her shoulders and her eyes were an icy blue. As a strong willed feminist she was infamously known across western France for her ongoing list of ex-husbands. A feud between her and Marcella seemed very probable.

Still another suspect was Klaus Montague, a wealthy businessman at 36 years of age with green eyes and spiked black hair. He arose from a peasant village south of Paris and eventually proceeded to start a leading line of tailored suits. As far as anyone knew, he and Marcella met for the first time that evening making his motives for murder less apparent.

Another probable candidate was Madam Vivian, a fairly young scientist at age 26 with golden hair and sea blue eyes. Her own personal chef had prepared both the food and the wine for the banquet, making her an easy candidate for blame with ample opportunity for her to slip some poison into the meal. She was fascinated by chemistry as well.

Lastly, there was Tobias himself. Born and raised in Germany, Tobias had grown up outside of Frankfurt and moved to France in order to attend college in Paris. After graduation he proceeded to become a professional musician and composer of great symphonies and operas. Despite his potential fame, Tobias despised the celebrity life and published with a pen name allowing publication of his work and not himself. Even if he was guilty, his elusive and cunning nature would make him difficult to blame.

As his mind drifted back to reality, the situation intensified. In the banquet hall, a harsh debate was beginning as all six suspects were throwing one another under the bus in an attempt to be seen as innocent.

“It was not I!” Klaus shouted in defense. “I had no affiliation of any kind with Marcella!”

“Which is the case with most murderers and their victims actually,” Tobias interjected. “Lies will only get you so far.”

“I did not ask for your opinion Grimwood,” the businessman jeered. “Why don’t the detectives just start searching us right now?”
“We’re not stupid,” Madeline countered. “All six of us know to trash the immediate evidence if we want to escape arrest.”
“Sounds like the voice of experience,” Roxanne said dryly.

“Still,” Hugh remarked, “the obvious signs of my Marcella’s death point to the chemist and supplier of the banquet’s food. I might choose to hide behind the obvious if I was in Vivian’s shoes.”

“Well you’re not!” Vivian retorted. “By that logic killing your own wife would hide you from the obvious as well. This isn’t the first time it has happened here.”

“I would never dream of such a thing!” Hugh protested. “For all I know it was Master Grimwood who killed her. You can never trust the quiet ones.”

“Depends on my mood,” Tobias replied sarcastically. “I’m just not feeling murderous today, but that might change if Roxanne continues with that condescending glare in a futile attempt to expose my fear.”

Before Roxanne could object, the two inspectors stormed the room carrying a pair of black gloves. “These were found in the men’s lavatory,” one of them stated, “Will misters Beauregard, Montague, and Grimwood please step forward to try them on?”

Complying with the inspector’s orders, Hugh and Klaus tried on the gloves which were too small. Remaining confident, Tobias slipped on the gloves and the room fell silent as they fit perfectly.

“Fits like a glove,” he mused. “They’re even a cheap pair of conductor’s gloves that are my size and in the men’s bathroom. Someone must be trying to frame me,” he remarked before taking off the gloves and idly catching a sliver of hair that floated out.

“You’re just digging a deeper hole for yourself,” Madeline observed. “Confess already.”

“I would be,” Tobias reasoned, “if I hadn’t felt this irritating strand of auburn hair in the left hand glove.”

Suddenly Madeline’s face went white with fear. “How did you know about my hair?” she asked in astonishment.

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Hugh stated in confusion. “Madeline’s hair is chestnut brown.”

“Now it is,” Roxanne laughed. “She dyed it a few days ago, and something tells me that she might have dyed it for purposes other than matching her new dress.”

“That’s where I was going,” Tobias agreed. “I figured the murderer must have dyed their hair and fortunately she was kind enough to basically admit to the crime.”

“Grimwood’s a filthy liar!” Madeline screamed in rage. “He stole a strand of my hair knowing I would dye it once again!”

“I think I’m with Tobias on this one,” Vivian commented for the first time in awhile. “Madeline, you dyed your hair auburn for about three weeks during the month when his opera was touring Austria and Italy. As for that comment you made about Grimwood predicting you would dye your hair, I think anyone could do so since your hair color changes so ridiculously often!”

“Very well, I see how it is!” Madeline snapped. “Let’s all target Madeline and blame her in order to save ourselves! I bet all five of you are filthy murderers!”

“Madam,” an inspector said, “you’re being ridiculous. Nearly all the evidence points to you and at this point they are simply drawing conclusions.”

The officer’s comment made her cringe as everyone waited to see what would next erupt from the volcanic model. After about a minute, Klaus broke the ice.

“I’m certainly no expert, but what perfume did you use today?” Klaus asked, receiving bewildered stares.

“Fantasia de Fleurs,” Madeline answered in puzzlement. “Why does it matter?”

“Ah,” Klaus sighed. “Someone smell those gloves, there is a trace of that same flowery scent on them.”

“Sir Montague might be on to something,” Hugh commented. “I do recall smelling a trace of that fragrance in the men’s restroom, but I never made the connection.”

“Stop this madness!” Madeline screamed. “I wouldn’t hurt a fly, let alone someone as lovely as Marcella Beauregard! I was framed and you’d better believe me!”

“You’re the framer here!” one inspector bellowed. “The hair, the perfume, and the attempted framing of Grimwood, a foreign man with almost no connections to Marcella’s life whatsoever, are enough to clearly show that the culprit is you.”

“Take her away!” Hugh shouted. Without hesitation, the two inspectors grabbed the writhing and cursing Lady Madeline and stormed out of the banquet hall door.

Once the inspectors were gone, Tobias, Hugh, Roxanne, Vivian, and Klaus all stood in silence taking in all that they had just witnessed with gaping mouths.

“Well then,” sighed Master Hugh, “Now that that’s settled, I declare this dinner party officially over.”

Without further ado, Tobias followed the other guests out the arched banquet hall doors and hailed a nighttime carriage. As the carriage arrived, he sat down in the velvet seat, and released a massive sigh of relief.

The other suspects had taken his bait and blamed Lady Madeline. His assassination of Lady Marcella remained unknown.