"Then the murderer turned off the electricity!" The butler runs to the mansion's electricity switch, and flips it, sending everyone into complete darkness. The other guests begin to scream.

"Oh my god…" I mutter, taken aback by the sudden emptiness around me.

I hear someone sigh "Not again." And someone else screech "Turn on the lights!"

As sudden as it disappeared, light comes back to the mansion. I blink, adjusting my vision. The butler walks away from the switch, and looks at us all. He sees I am, admittedly, shaken up, and gives me a smug look. He speaks, addressing all of us. "Sorry, didn't mean to frighten you."

"You're a bit late for that!" I scold, walking toward the nearest person- Mrs. White- and mutter to her "I hate it when he does that!" Her only response is a slight aftershock-yelp.

"Then," Wadsworth continues, "There were three more murders."

"So which of us killed them?" Mrs. White asks, voice higher than usual.

"None of us killed Mr. Boddy or the cook."

"So who did?!" Mrs. White and I chime, beyond confused. How could have none of us killed Boddy and the cook? It had to be someone!

"It was the one person who wasn't with us."

White and I stammer, looking for an answer. But coming up empty, we grow silent.

The butler smiles.

"Yvette."

"Yvette?" The other guests are shocked.

"She was in the billiard room, listening in to our conversation. She heard the gunshot, and thought Mr. Boddy was dead. And while we all examined the bullet hole, she crept into the study, picked up the dagger, ran to the kitchen, and stabbed the cook. We didn't hear the cook scream, because Mrs. Peacock was screaming about the poisoned brandy. Then, Yvette ran to the billiard room. She screamed, and we all ran to her."

Mustard shakes his head. "Well, when did she kill Mr. Boddy?"

"When I said!" Wadsworth pointedly replies, "We all ran to the kitchen to see the cook. Yvette hid in the study to check that Mr. Boddy was dead. He got up and followed us down the hall, so she hit him on the head with the candlestick, and dragged him to the toilet."

"Why?"

"To create confusion!"

Peacock slumps her shoulders. "It worked…"

Mustard nods, fully agreeing. He is easily confused, it seems. It really isn't that hard to confuse a man like Mustard.

"But why did she do it?" I ask the butler. It may be clear to him, but I'm lost. All of the guest are.

"It was because she was acting under orders from the person who later killed her."

"Who?"

"Who?"

"Who?!"

Wadsworth walks around the group, everyone watching him as he goes.

"Was it…one of her clients?" He eyes Mustard, who is taken aback at this silent accusation.

"Or was it a jealous wife?" He turns to Mrs. White, analyzing her behavior. She says as calm and poised as normal.

"Or an adulterous doctor?" He glances at Professor Plum, who looks around at the other guests, not wanting to meet Wadsworth's gaze.

"No. It was her employer…Ms. Scarlet!"

The accused stands up straight, clenching her fists. "That's a lie!"

"Is it? You used her the way you've always used her. You killed the motorist when we split up to search the house."

"How could I have known about the secret passageway?" Scarlet stammers.

"Easy. Yvette told you. So when we split up again, you switched off the electricity…it was easy for you here on the ground floor. Then, in the dark, you got the lead pipe and the rope, strangled Yvette, ran to the library, killed the cop, picked up the gun where Yvette dropped it, opened the front door, recognized the singing telegram girl from her photograph, and shot her!"

"You've no proof."

Wadsworth straightens up, cocking an eyebrow. "The gun is missing. Gentlemen, turn out your pockets. Ladies, empty your purses. Whoever has the gun is the murderer."

I rummage through my pockets, as did the rest of the group. Turning mine inside out, I shrug and push them back in. There is a sharp click. Pointing the gun at us, Scarlet wears a calm smirk. We all hold our hands up, signaling our vulnerability. "Brilliantly worked out, Wadsworth, I congratulate you."

The butler takes a slight bow, and Mustard, with a goofy grin spread across his face, nods to Wadsworth.

"Me too!"

"Shut up!" Scarlet points the gun at the large man, who stumbles back a bit.

So it was Ms. Scarlet who- one way or another- murdered everyone. But that doesn't make any sense. I mean…

I raise my hand slightly, speaking "Now there's one thing I don't understand…"

Plum looks at me, dumbfounded. "One thing?"

I shake his comment off, continuing. "Why did you do it? Half of Washington knows what kind of business you run. You were in no real danger. The whole town would be implicated if you were exposed!"

She swivels her shoulders, holding the gun strong. "I don't think they know my real business. My business is secrets—and Yvette found them out for me." She walks around us, clutching the weapon dangerously steady. "The secrets of Senator Peacock's defense committee… of Colonel Mustard's fusion bomb… Professor Plum's UN contacts…" Scarlet looks at White, inching closer to the widow, "And the work of your husband, the nuclear physicist."

I scowl. "So it is political. You're a communist!"

"No, Mr. Green. Communism is just a red herring. Like all members of the oldest profession, I'm a capitalist. And I'm gonna sell these secrets- your secrets to the highest bidder."

Mustard puffs out his chest, and with a strange stroke of bravery, says "And if we don't cooperate?"

"You will. Or I'll expose you."

"We could expose you. Six murders?" Plum says, catching a strain of Mustard's bravery.

"I hardly think it will enhance your reputation in the UN, Professor Plum, if it's been revealed that you've been implicated in not only adultery with one of your patients, but in her death…and the deaths of five other people!"

"You don't know what kind of people they have in the UN. I might go up in their estimations."

Mustard steps toward Scarlet, "And it's no good-" Ms. Scarlet points the gun at the Colonel, who stops in his tracks, but keeps his mouth moving. "-blackmailing me, madam. I have no more money." His statement is met with nods and agreeing voices. Scarlet sighs.

"I know, sweetie pie. But you can pay me in government information. All of you."

She looks at all of us, a grin twisting her painted lips. But out of the corner of her eye, it seems, she notices Wadsworth. The woman walks towards him, still holding the gun threateningly.

"Except you, Wadsworth. You as a mere butler have no access to government secrets. So, I'm afraid your moment has come."

There is nothing I can do. All I can do is watch what might play out. But, it looks as though Wadsworth has one more trick up his sleeve. "Not so fast, Scarlet. I do have a secret or two."

"Oh yeah? Such as?"

"The game's up, Scarlet. There are no more bullets left in that gun."

Ms. Scarlet laughs. "You don't think I'm gonna fall for that old trick?"

"It's not a trick. There was one shot for Mr. Boddy in the study, two for the chandelier, two for the lounge door, and one for the singing telegram."

"That's not six!"

"One plus two plus two plus one."

Scarlet stares at the man, counting silently to herself. She pauses, her brow furrowing. "Nu uh. There was only one shot that got the chandelier. That would be one plus two plus one plus one."

"Even if you were right, that would be one plus one plus two plus one, not one plus two plus one plus one."

"Alright. One plus one plus-"

Wadsworth looks over at me, rolling his eyes. Scarlet jabs the gun at Wadsworth, scowling. "Shut up! Point is, there's one bullet left, and guess who's gonna get it?!"

The doorbell rings, slicing the tension in the hall. Scarlet looks at the door, Wadsworth taking the opportunity to grab her gun hand, and twist her whole arm behind her. She screams and struggles, trying to get away. I dash to the door, opening it wide for the streams of policemen flooding the hall. My shoulders sag, glad this night ended without any more victims. I look at Wadsworth, who shouts "Where's the Chief?"

I stand there for a moment, before I see Chief-my Chief- walk through the door. He looks at me, then Wadsworth, nodding proudly.

"Good work, boys."

I follow the Chief, walking to Wadsworth and Scarlet, and I ask "Do you know Wadsworth?"

"Of course. He works with us, in a division a few floors below ours."

A few floors below, huh? Maybe after this is all over, I can visit the dapper agent in his office. Finally reaching the pair, I hear Scarlet ask Wadsworth, in a terribly sultry tone "Oh, Wadsworth…don't hate me for trying to shoot you."

The butler looks up, noticing I was there, looking at him. I almost look away, but he smiles, stopping me. He looks at the murderer and sighs.

"Frankly, Scarlet, I don't give a damn."

I think that things are going to be all right from now on. Not to mention, I still have a promise to keep. Wadsworth holds the gun in his hands. "Now, as I was trying to tell you, there are no more bullets left in this gun, see-" He pulls the trigger, and a loud BANG resonates in the hall. The second chandelier's rope is struck with the stray bullet, and it begins to spin. Wadsworth, with a cute confused look on his face, begins to count quietly. "One plus two…plus one…"

I shake my head, grinning wildly. Mustard, apparently, is trying to count the number of shots as well. Standing in the middle of the hall, he counts slowly on his fingers. The rope for the chandelier snaps.

"…plus one…is…?"

The chandelier hits the floor in a cacophony of shatters, glass flying everywhere. Mustard jumps, lucky he was standing in front of the drop zone rather than right on it.

THAT'S HOW IT COULD HAVE HAPPENED.