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Betrayal! Again!

The Further Adventures of Sherl and Me: The Princess Cut, Installment III

"A fabulous party!"

To summarize: After John Watson had been nearly poisoned, Sherl, Mary, and John- oh, and Molly Hooper- came with me to my charming cottage, where I was hosting a wonderful party. A baby shower, for Mary. Sherl claimed it was to catch the poisoner in a second attempt, but I suspected he and I would be sending everyone else home and finishing the weekend with each other.

I woke to a glorious day, the sun streaming in. Of course it was glorious- It was Sussex Downs! I rolled out of bed to get ready. Two and a half hours later, I strolled into the kitchen looking incredible in a Cavali summer number in black with lace, animal print and floral paneling and Geiger snake print heels.

"Thank God!" Mary nearly knocked me over to get to the loo.

"She's had to squat in the yard eight times so far," remarked John, sipping his coffee. "Good thing your shrubbery is overgrown."

"Why didn't you knock?"

"We did."

Oh. Well. How was one to blow dry one's hair without a bit of noise?

The plan was for the cleaning crew and gardeners to work on the place that morning, and then the caterers would appear for set up. The party would start at one and wind up at four, so everyone could get back to London in time for cocktails.

We waited, anxious. Nothing much happened that morning except that the toilet overflowed a bit, and Mary had to pump frantically with the plunger. Oh, and Molly Hooper opened a kitchen cabinet and a squirrel leapt out and snared itself in her hair (that was a riot- she was screaming and grabbing at her head while the poor thing grew more and more tangled), but, really, the only truly notable event was that I cleaned Sherl's filthy ash tray, and he practically exploded.

There I was, polishing away, when- "What did you do!" Sherl shouted. He snatched the thing, dashed outside and began to smoke furiously. Had three going at the same time!

"Give it up, Sherlock! Just set the pack on fire," called John from the window. With a malevolent glare, Sherl did exactly that: dumped the remaining cigarettes into the ashtray, lit them and stood over the smoldering mess, breathing in the smoke with a expression of bliss tinged with sadness.

When it was done, he came in with the full ashtray and placed it on a top shelf, warning, "I need that. Don't touch it." Then he reached out a hand to John. "Give me the car keys. I'm out of cigarettes."

The party began without a hitch. The bridesmaids drifted in early, of course. Claudette wore jean shorts, a tee shirt and brogans (always so casual!), and Lily in her usual "slag rags": short skirt, high heels and low cut blouse. Trish came later in a chic pair of black satin shorts, ankle strap heels and a floating white crepe shirt (you could see nearly everything!), daringly unbuttoned to there- So fun!

The party was fabulous. Drinks flowed. Laughter rippled. Everyone was jealous of my gorgeous cottage. And the food! -Full bar, pate and sushi platters, cold meats, Caesar's salad, tiramisu. Mary was circulating and glowing, but I noticed she was eating only crackers. I pulled her aside. "Are you afraid of being poisoned?" I asked. "I could sneak you a plate directly from the kitchen."

"Oh, no." She smiled kindly, stroking her stomach. "I can't eat any of this. Pregnant." Bending close, she murmured, "Thanks so much for hosting."

Of course! A smashing success. When four o'clock rolled around, there was a collective sigh of regret. Party's over. Time for cocktails!

Sherl stood on a chair and clinked a wineglass. "Everyone! May I have your attention, please? The taxis are here to remove you to the train station. I would ask the bridesmaids to remain behind, please. We have a special surprise."

In short order, the room cleared, and we bridesmaids were perched in a row like schoolgirls. Pacing somberly, Sherl announced, "For one of of you, this will come as no surprise. John was poisoned two days ago. Strychnine." Everyone gasped. "Someone sent a basket of apples injected with rat poison and tried to blame Mary by planting the syringe used to inject the apples in her desk. That someone is one of you." Lily, I noticed, was looking down guiltily.

Sherl continued, "We believed the poisoner would make a second attempt at this party." I realized then how clever I had been to select food Mary wouldn't eat. "It wouldn't have been the food," Oh. "Too many people. Instead, the killer chose to poison something the Watsons wouldn't necessarily ingest right away: toiletries. Molly Hooper-" He waved at Molly working away at test tubes and science things in the kitchen "-has been testing those items. Molly?"

"Arsenic," she answered, looking up. "In the toothpaste."

"Ah yes," Sherl remarked. "A slow poison, weakening the victims before finishing them off. Diabolical, considering there is a child involved." My avenging angel! "Because this primitive shack-" Shack! "-has but one bath, the Watsons kept their toiletries next to their bed. Prior to this party, I sprinkled the floor of their bedroom with cigarette ash, undetectable on that hideous carpet. The ash would mark anyone who visited the Watson's bedroom. I would ask each of you to lift your feet, so that I might inspect your soles."

Slowly, Claudette, then Lily and finally Trish lifted their feet. With keen eyes, Sherl walked down the line: Lily, Claudette, Trish- When he came to me, he stopped. "Well?"

"Me?" I asked.

"Yes."

Fine. I lifted my feet. He glanced and snorted. "Ash." He pointed at Lily, "Ash." At Claudette, "Ash." At Trish, "No ash." Trish! Sherl spoke slowly- "Each of you has reason to want trouble for the Watsons. Let's begin with you, Janine. Why were you in the bedroom?"

Now dear readers, there was a perfectly sound reason, and Sherl knew it, no doubt. He was simply trying to get everyone else into the "swing of things" by starting with little me. Part of my position as a personal assistant to the head of a large media conglomerate was to "keep a finger" on the "pulse" of the "social scene." It is a well known fact that people were more comfortable when they felt "unobserved"-

"She was peering through the window, taking pictures of drunks and lechers for her paper." Lily! "I know." She stared at Sherl. "I was in the closet, spying on her."

"Spying on someone," threw back Sherl. My angel! He reached in his pocket and drew out four little metal discs. When Lily saw them, she went silent.

"These bugs," said Sherl, flatly, "were planted in Mary's clothing, shoes and handbag. It seems you wanted to keep an ear on our Mary." John slipped his arm round his wife. I was confused at first but- Oh! Lily must work for another media giant, the sneak!

"We may not have got them all," continued Sherl, "but we shall be wary."

Lily pursed her lips and kept mum, a proper little bitch.

"Which takes us to Claudette." Sherl stepped in front of her, and she set her jaw, trembling. "Your bank account fluctuates quite a bit. One wonders in what sort of shenanigans a customs agent could be involved?"

"It was football!" burst out Claudette. "I do pools at work! I was listening to the news!"

Sherl fixed his eyes on her for a breathless moment. "That's fairly pathetic," he remarked, finally.

"I know!"

"All right." Sherl stepped in front of Trish. "And now-"

"I had no ash on my shoes." Trish was cool.

"You have uncomfortable shoes. Take them off."

Sherl and Trish locked eyes. Then, "All right." She tossed her hair and undid her straps. Between her toes- Ash.

Sherl nodded. "Two years ago, you were romantically involved with your boss, a Mr. Tony Humphrely. Someone leaked compromising pictures of him with a number of women to his wife and supervisor. He was transferred to the office in Fargo, North Dakota which effectively ended your relationship."

"Those were faked!" Trish cried.

"No they weren't." It was Mary.

Trish stared. "You took those?"

"You were on the verge of being sacked," Mary returned. "And then you would have been no good to- And I am your friend."

Trish held her gaze a beat, and then shrugged. "Fancy," she remarked.

Sherl leaned closer. "You knew about this."

"No."

"You were furious."

"No!"

"You poisoned those apples and tried to blame Mary for revenge!"

"I didn't! Look!" Trish reached round her neck. "I've got a new boyfriend, haven't I!" She drew out a necklace with a ring hanging on it. "See! He gave me a ring!"

My heart dropped. It was a princess cut emerald ring. Surrounded by precious little diamonds.


Next time: My dreams come true!