They all stood around looking at each others costumes, trying to figure out who was behind the masks. No one was really obvious except Greg. His very revealing male ballet dancer costume gave away his tight skinny legs. Everyone that passed him could not help but laugh at the sight.
As they walked around and talked to each other, hoping to get an insight into who was behind the masks, something caught each of their eyes. A couple was late. The man was tall and dark. He was dressed as a hansom and gentlemanly vampire. It had to be Warrick His companion was a mystery. She was extremely thin and pale. She barely reached his shoulder in height. But her dress and mask made up for all of that. The burgundy wine dress looked as if it had been pulled from a historical painting. It had a shimmer to it and was hand beaded. The mask was definitely thick porcelain and hand painted. Someone had spent too much time on their costume.
"Good evening Warrick."
"Nice costume, Greg. Have fun putting it on?"
"Very funny. Actually it was a last minute idea. Amelia helped me pick it out. Have you seen her tonight?"
"She had to work. She said she might come to guess the people, if she got off early."
"Well, who's the girl?"
"A friend. Let me guess, you want to dance with her. You are a little flirt."
"Hey! I am not."
"Well, go ahead. Take her out there."
Greg smiled and grabbed the girl's arm. He led her out onto the empty dance floor.
"Who are you?"
The girl shook her head no. She lifted up the edge of her skirt to reveal pointe shoes.
"A dancer, how nice." He stepped back and watched the girl pirouette across the floor. Feeling the mood, he followed her. They danced around the room, letting everyone watch.
"Who is she? She's very good."
"She's a show off."
"No, actually, I think she's trying to make Greg happy. You were all laughing at him."
Warrick smiled at the World War Two nurse and the nineteenth century bobby.
"Who is she, Warrick?"
"A friend, Sara, a friend."
"How do you know I'm Sara?"
"Catherine doesn't have brown hair. Not to mention she's dressed like a Moulin Rouge dancer. I remember her telling you about it."
"Oh."
"And I know Jim is a British bobby because he has his luck socks, which do not match his costume, on."
"Very observant. You've been spending too much time with Grissom."
"My date noticed and pointed you out on our way in."
"So who is she?"
The Phantom of the Opera and Doctor Frankenstein stood in the corner."
"I've figured out who the all are, Al. The Tin Woodman is Nick. Warrick is the Vampire. Sara is the WWII nurse. Catherine is the French dancer. Jim is the bobby. The ballerina is Greg. You're Doctor Frankenstein. And I'm the Phantom of the Opera."
"You missed someone."
"I know. The mysterious maiden is difficult to place. Maybe when we give clues later she'll give an obvious one."
The Tin Woodman came to them.
"Any clue as to who Warrick's date is?"
"None. She's very good at not revealing he self."
"Among other things. I've never seen someone dance like that."
"Years of practice, Nick."
The time had come for the clues to be given. Each person came up and gave their clue until it was time for the mysterious maiden to give hers. She stepped up on the platform and gave a smile. A slow beat came on and the girl began to sing.
"Southern trees bear a strange fruit
Blood on the leaves and blood at the root
Black bodies swingin' in the Southern breeze
Strange fruit hangin' from the poplar trees
Pastoral scene of the gallant South
The bulgin' eyes and the twisted mouth
Scent of magnolias sweet and fresh
Then the sudden smell of burnin' flesh
Here is a fruit for the crows to pluck
For the rain to gather
For the wind to suck
For the sun to rot
For the tree to drop
Here is a strange and bitter crop"
As she stepped down, Warrick grabbed her hand.
"You were excellent. No one knows who you are yet. After the last bell tolls for midnight do not take off you mask. Wait for everyone to look at you, and then take it off. The surprise of the century is at hand."
The last stroke of midnight came and everyone pulled of their masked. They all looked around at each other, proud of their guesses. They then looked at the mystery guest.
"Before I pull of my mask I have something to say."
Her beautiful Rumanian accent helped the words roll off her tongue. Everyone looked at her with confused eyes, even Warrick.
"There are more things in heaven and earth, my dear friends, than are dreamt of in our philosophy."
As she pulled of her mask she went from being an eighteenth century diplomat to an early twentieth silent film scarlet.
"No way. You were here all along."
"I wouldn't miss our poor Mr. Sanders in tights for the world."
She laid a kiss on Greg's cheek. He stepped back amazed.
"Wait a minute. What's with the accent?"
"I just happen to be eastern European, Mr. Sanders. It's easier for me to speak to like this than to speak with the British accent I use around you."