DISCLAIMER: I don't own Clue, the board game or movie. Those are copyright of Hasbro and Paramount Pictures. The only suspect I own is Miss Brown, and her relations to the other characters.

This story is for anyone who loves the film or the game, and always wondered how Wadsworth came to be such a maniac.

It is, of course, dedicated to Miss Cordelia Brown (Hartley) the forgotten guest.

Chapter One: Miss Brown's Unexpected Arrival.

Miss Cordelia Hartley was the forgotten guest at Hill House, she was part of the events that happened but everyone had agreed to remove her from the story. Not because of her irritating habit of squealing whenever she felt like it, or making irrelevant comments, but because she had another half of the story to tell. One that some of the guests wanted to prevent her from telling.

Cordelia Hartley was cruising along the highway toward a grim-looking house on the hill in her prized brown Rolls Royce attended by her chauffeur who was driving the car. Feeling rather excited and yet nervous at meeting the former member of staff from her English home for the first time in years, Cordelia quickly added some powder to her cheeks and nose and tightened her silver mink coat around her.

"This it, Miss?" Asked the chauffeur curiously.

Cordelia racked her brains desperately trying to remember the address.

"It is called Hill House, Matthew."

"Well then, this ain't it. What about that gloomy place up there? It's on a hill."

"Yes, that would be it, Matthew. Drive on."

Matthew pulled into the path leading up to the house and Cordelia stared up at it in horror.

"Oh goodness. This must be the place."

"Yes, my lady. It says on the plaque there." The headlights hit a stone plaque on the walls forming the gateway to the house.

"Oh dear."

"Would you like me to turn around, Miss?" Matthew asked.

"No, no. I'm sure it will be fine…oh dash it!" She suddenly exclaimed, checking her dainty silver watch, "I am late! Oh, Matthew, I know…"

"Not to worry, Miss." He pressed down slightly harder on the accelerator and drove her up to the front door, where several other cars were parked, including a familiar black one. Fortunately, Cordelia was so preoccupied with reaching the door without getting wet that she did not notice.

The chauffeur tipped his hat.

"What time would you like to be collected, my lady?"

"I believe it should be about eleven o clock or midnight. Please inform my husband when he returns that I plan to stay at the dinner party for the evening, thank you Matthew."

"Not at all, my Lady. Would you like me to wait around and make sure you're ok?"

"No, that won't be necessary. I had best make my entrance now, before they lock the doors." She gave a nervous giggle as she walked up to the door and pulled the bell cord.

The two dogs in the kennel growled at her as she did so, and she frowned at them.

"That's not very nice, is it?"

The dogs seemed to ignore this comment for they yawned and went back to chewing some beef bones.

******

Inside the house, the guests were all sitting around at dinner when the doorbell rang.

"Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, I'll just get the door." Explained Wadsworth, walking out of the room to the front door.

Standing in the doorway was a petite young woman of about twenty. She had a very attractive face, a pale complexion, and dark green eyes. Her hair was elegantly curled in gentle waves down to her shoulders, and her coat was made of silvery mink with a fur collar.

"Good evening, madam." He began.

"Good evening, sir. I must say, your directions to this address were appalling. It took my chauffeur several times before he found the right path. Also, upon my arrival, I was greeted by these horrible dogs, they growled at me."

"I am sorry to hear that, madam. I believe you have received a letter inviting you to this address?"

"Yes. You seem very familiar, sir."

"I can assure you, Madam, I have no recollection of meeting you beforehand. If I have had the pleasure, I apologise."

"Oh, how flattering."

"May I take your coat, madam?"

"Why, thank you kind sir." The butler removed her coat revealing an attractive rose pink floor length gown with a rose brooch attached to the centre. She wrinkled her nose, there was definitely a strong unpleasant odour. Wadsworth set her coat on a hook in the cloakroom. "And who can I express my gratitude to?"

"I am Wadsworth, madam, the butler of this household."

"And I am Cord…"

"I know who you are, madam. The guests here are all addressed by a pseudonym. I trust you received your own in the letter?"

"I do not believe so, sir."

"I see." Wadsworth looked puzzled. "Never mind, I shall simply have to give you a name."

"I have my own, sir. It is Cordel…."

"No, under no circumstances must you use your real name."

"So what is your name, sir?"

"Wadsworth," Wadsworth repeated crossly, "and you are to be Miss Brown for tonight."

"Very well, Mr Wadsworth."

"Close enough." Wadsworth sighed, "You are to tell the guests that you are a housewife. Your husband is a highly respected accountant for your father."

"But I don't have a husband. You know that, Mr Wadsworth." Miss Brown replied.

"Please, Miss Brown," Wadsworth hissed, "you do have a husband. For tonight anyway."

"But that is a lie." Retorted Miss Brown, "I don't hold with telling lies."

"Oh, but for tonight you must. If all goes according to plan, you could be very wealthy indeed. Now follow my instructions."

She turned toward the door. Wadsworth held it shut with his hand.

"Remember what I told you, Miss Brown," He snapped, then in a more polite tone, he added: "If you'd like to follow me to the dining room Miss Brown."

Miss Brown followed Wadsworth into the dining room where she was greeted with mixed reactions.

"May I present Miss Brown. This is Colonel Mustard, Miss Scarlet, Mr Green, Mrs White, Professor Plum and Mrs Peacock." He indicated the other guests to Miss Brown who gave a quick curtsy before Wadsworth ushered her to her seat opposite the head of the table.

"Hello." Murmured some of the guests. Miss Scarlet gave Miss Brown a hard glare.

"Do take a seat, Miss Brown."

"I must apologise for being awfully late, you see my chauffeur had a little trouble finding the house." Explained the nervous girl, taking a seat at the opposite end of the table and placing her small drawstring purse and clutch bag on the floor.

"Hmm." Murmured Mrs White.

"So what do you do for a living, Miss Brown?" Asked Mrs Peacock.

"Give the girl a chance to sit down, please Mrs Peacock." Corrected Wadsworth.

"Oh don't worry about that, Mrs Peacock. I beg your pardon, what was your question?"

"What do you do for a living?"

"I...A housewife."

"Some profession." Scoffed Miss Scarlet. "24 hour job, that. Keeping your husband happy. Why didn't he come with you?"

"He..." She paused and glanced up at Wadsworth who widened his eyes at her. "well...he's very busy...he's a kind of...butler..."

"Like you Wadsworth." Grinned Miss Scarlet.

"Oh, no...my husband...he...works at a mansion for a lovely family...I don't mind. I just look after the house." Wadsworth rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Are you a real Colonel, sir?" Asked Miss Brown curiously.

"Yes, Mam."

"My father was a Major. He joined up when we moved here."

"What regiment?"

But the colonel did not get the chance to reply, for Wadsworth had re-entered with the next course.

As Wadsworth presented Miss Brown with a bowl he smiled at her, and she grinned weakly in return, not knowing how to interpret the smile.

"What exactly is this?" She asked him.

"A very unusual and special dish, Miss Brown. Prepared in the best way."

Miss Brown took hold of her fork and held it delicately in her left hand. The others turned to stare at her, and Wadsworth hissed:

"Transfer the fork to the other hand, Miss Brown."

She began to raise a mouthful to her lips and then paused. Somehow, it didn't smell right.

"May I proceed to the next course, please?" She asked.

"The dish is not to your taste, Miss Brown?" Replied Wadsworth, curiously, filling the other guests' glasses with wine.

"No...I...am not a 'big eater'." She answered.

Mrs Peacock tutted.

"This is one of my favourite recipes." She announced.

"I know, madam." Wadsworth replied, and his eyes travelled around the table to Miss Brown. "Very well, Miss Brown, would you care for something else? Some fruit, maybe? Or a slice of cheesecake?"

"No thank you." Miss Brown lowered her hands to her lap and sat patiently waiting for the other guests to finish. However, her refusal to eat seemed to have caused a similar problem with the other guests, apart from Mrs Peacock, who seemed to be ravenously hungry as she shovelled her way through the dish.

The conversation began to dwindle into silence until the atmosphere became so uncomfortable that Mrs Peacock had to speak.

"Well, someone's got to break the ice, and it might as well be me. I mean, I'm used to being a hostess; it's part of my husband's work, and it's always difficult when a group of new friends meet together for the first time to get acquainted, so I'm perfectly prepared to start the ball rolling . . . I mean, I have absolutely no idea what we're doing here, or what I'm doing here, or what this place is about, but I am determined to enjoy myself and I'm very intrigued and oh, my, this soup's delicious isn't it?" All the guests including Miss Brown looked up to stare at Mrs Peacock in amazement.

"You say you are used to being a hostess as part of your husband's work?" Asked Mrs White curiously.

"Yes, it's an integral part of your life when you are the wife of a. . . oh, but then I forgot we're not supposed to say who we really are, though heavens to Betsy, I don't know why."

"Don't you?" Snapped Colonel Mustard, crisply.

"I know who you are." Exclaimed Mr Green.

"How do you know who I am?" Demanded Mrs Peacock

"I work in Washington too."

"Oh, so you're a politician's wife." Suggested Professor Plum.

"Yes...yes I am." Mrs Peacock replied, looking flustered.

"Well, come on then, who is your husband?" Demanded the colonel.

"Oh, a politician, Mrs Peacock just said."

Wadsworth shook his head.

"No, Miss Brown, the colonel was referring to his name, not his occupation."

Miss Scarlet laughed.

"Oh." Sighed Miss Brown sadly, "I must say, Mrs Peacock I do love your hat."

"Why, thank you, my dear."

"I love feathers." Miss Brown continued.

"That's why you're such a feather-brain, is it?" Mocked Miss Scarlet cruelly.

"Now, Miss Scarlet..." Stammered Wadsworth.

"Oh, no, I just like pretty things."

"Hmm, so do I." Professor Plum agreed, looking across the table at Miss Scarlet, who pulled a disgusted face.

"Whereabouts in Washington do you work, Mrs Peacock?" Asked Colonel Mustard.

"Just in the main area, you know."

"Oh, how strange. My husband works there, too."

"I thought you said your husband was a butler?" Interrupted Mrs Peacock.

"He is. In a house in Washington."

"Oh I see."

"That's probably why she can't keep her mouth shut." Miss Scarlet hissed.

"What do you mean, Miss Scarlet?" Asked Colonel Mustard.

"Miss Brown usually can't keep her mouth shut, she finds it difficult to keep secrets, don't you, Miss Brown?"

"I don't know what you mean, Miss Scarlet," Replied Miss Brown, and Wadsworth narrowed his eyes at her.

"So what does your husband do?" Miss Brown asked Mrs White.

"Nothing." She snapped as though flustered. "Well, he just…lies around on his back all day."

"Sounds like hard work to me." Murmured Miss Scarlet in agreement.

Yvette threw up the serving hatch just as another clap of thunder roared, causing Mr Green to spill his glass over Miss Scarlet.

"Ooh!" Miss Brown squealed.

"Not a lover of thunder, Miss Brown?" Asked the professor.

"No…no…" She shivered, "I…I…just don't like storms."

"Don't worry, Miss Brown," Wadsworth told her, laying a hand on her shoulder, "we're all afraid of something." Miss Brown brushed off his hand, somehow his touch made her feel very uneasy.

"Like a kid." Hissed Miss Scarlet to Colonel Mustard.

"Yeah." He agreed.

To Wadsworth's relief the doorbell rang again, and the guests shuffled uncomfortably in their seats.

Wadsworth opened the door and gave a strained smile to the visitor. He was not exactly attractive, giving off an air of malevolence, and cunning. In one hand he was holding a small suitcase and in the other, a black umbrella.

"Ah, Mr Boddy, you are eagerly awaited."

"I find that hard to believe." The guest replied in a sleek, sleazy tone, "This ain't ya place, I take it?"

"No, sir." Wadsworth replied politely, "it is on loan." He gestured for the visitor to enter. Mr Boddy did so, sneering at Wadsworth as he passed him.

"What are ya meant to be?"

Wadsworth smiled politely.

"I am supposed to be polite, sir. Though when talking to you, I find that the task is almost beyond me."

Mr Boddy appeared affronted. He held a finger up within an inch of Wadsworth's face.

"Just one thing, 'Wadsworth'. I know who ya really are, and you don't wanna forget it."

"May I take your bag, sir?" Wadsworth suggested, firmly.

"No, I'll leave it here, 'til I need it."

At this, Wadsworth turned to lock the door.

"Are you lockin' me in?" Asked the deeper voice, "I'll take the key."

"Over my dead body sir. I suppose your case contains the evidence…"

"Surprises my friend, that's what it contains, surprises."

They began to walk to the dining room, Wadsworth attempting to make polite conversation, as was his way.

"Have you just arrived from Washington, sir?"

Mr Boddy ignored him, looking around.

"Yes, it's a long haul."

"Indeed it is," Agreed the butler enthusiastically, "but then again, it is a rather large house."

Mr Boddy turned to look at Wadsworth.

"Ya think ya quite a 'fellow' don't'cha?"

Seconds later they appeared in the doorway leading into the dining room, a slick haired stocky man with small cunning eyes and a crooked grin, and Wadsworth.

Wadsworth gave a reassuring grin to the guests as Mr Boddy entered, causing Miss Brown to give a start.

"May I present Mr Boddy?" Explained Wadsworth quickly.

"What are they all doin' here?" Mr Boddy demanded.

"Eating dinner. Do sit down, Mr Boddy." Wadsworth instructed. Mr Boddy took his seat, glancing around at the revolted faces of the guests. He caught sight of Miss Brown and grinned slyly.

"So nice to see you again, doll."

"Are you talking to me?" Asked Miss Brown, in her eloquent voice.

"Well, of course, honey. Who else would he be talkin' to?" Sneered Miss Scarlet.

"I'm sure I don't know, Miss Scarlet." Replied Miss Brown crisply, "I'm afraid I don't recall meeting you, sir." She added to Mr Boddy.

Mr Boddy gave a harsh chuckle.

"Oh, don't worry doll. We won't tell anybody."

Wadsworth looked questionably at her and then at Mr Boddy.

"Come on, Miss Brown, you're foolin' nobody with your dumb innocent little girl act. I know all about you."

"Miss Scarlet, that's twice you've said that. If you have something to say, say it." Snapped Colonel Mustard.

"Just remember who you're talkin' to, sweetie pie." Scoffed Scarlet, "I've got dirt I could dish on you, too."

"That's quite enough, Miss Scarlet." Commanded Wadsworth.

"Oh what the heck." She threw her napkin down on her plate crossly, "She's responsible for the demise of most of the people on this table. Of course, none of it matters to you cos your daddy is a multi-millionaire."

"I've never heard anything so ridiculous," Exclaimed Mrs Peacock, "The girl told us that her husband has to work. How can she be a multi millionaire?"

"Maybe she's not telling us the truth." Suggested the Professor.

"Well I know I've never seen her before," agreed Mrs White, "I'm pretty sure I'd know her."