Murder Game

Chapter Four

Fanfiction by Ronin S. Oath

Buck's water goblet went over, and water sloshed on the table as he grabbed for it. Julia giggled nervously, and Laura sucked in her breath. They all waited quietly as Augustus resettled himself in his chair before he continued.

"As you all are aware of," Augustus continued, "I am a novelist. I have never been interested in writing nonfiction." He paused and smiled. "Until a little over a year ago."

As they waited, none of them knowing what they were supposed to say, Augustus chuckled. "For the past thirty years," he told them, "I have been thoroughly involved in high society's self-centeredness and hypocrisy. It suited my purposes, and occasionally it provided characters and ideas for my stories."

"Oh, my, I knew it. Prince Rainier," Laura murmured. "Was he the basis for-"

Augustus leaned forward with a scowl. "I have not finished speaking," he thundered, and Laura cringed against the back of her chair.

Augustus was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again it was with a smile. "My current manuscript is not another novel. It is a book in which I intend to make public certain shocking behind-the-scenes behavior of a great many very important people."

Julia stiffened, and it was obvious that she couldn't keep silent, no matter how offended Augustus might be. "Are you telling us that we're included?" she asked.

Augustus grinned nastily. "Yes and no," he said.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Buck demanded.

"It means that while doing background research and interviews, in an attempt to supplement my notes and refresh my memory, I stumbled upon a well-hidden secret in the past life of each one of you."

"Ridiculous!" Senator Maggio snapped.

"Oh is it?" asked Augustus, his eyes gleaming. "If these secrets are made known, they'll be damaging enough to ruin your reputations, aside from other complications that might result."

"This is absurd," Alex interjected, but Augustus dismissed him with a wave of his hand and went on.

"Each of you committed one very stupid mistake in your past, yet the mistakes were never made public. Was this because you were actually smart enough to cover them, or because you were incredibly lucky?"

"Augustus, I protest!" Thea said. "You're embarrassing our guest, and-"

"Sit down, Thea," Augustus ordered, and she did.

"You are all highly successful in your careers," he continued, "and normally that takes a certain amount of intelligence. So what is the truth? Are you stupid, or are you not? I'm going to find out. During the weekend we're going to play a game, and you'll be given clues to solve. The clues will lead to a significant treasure- a treasure that in itself will be self-explanatory. If you can solve the clues, then you'll prove to me that your stupid mistakes can remain secret, and I'll remove every trace of your stories from my manuscript. For those who can't solve the clues, the world will soon learn the shocking facts from your past."

"This manuscript you're threatening us with- have you written it or are you simply threatening to write it?" Alex demanded.

"Oh, I've completed it," Augustus answered. "It's ready for its final revision before I send it to my agent, who will proceed to read it immediately and send it on to my publisher. In its current form, your mistakes are detailed."

"Where is this manuscript?" Buck asked. He scowled from under his heavy eyebrows, and his anger was so strong that for a moment Rachel was afraid.

But Augustus wasn't. He leaned back and smiled. "Violence won't accomplish what you want, my dear Mr. Thompson. Clear and sharp thinking will."

Buck hunched over in his chair and grumbled, "I don't know what you've got in mind, but you won't get away with it, Augustus."

Suddenly Senator Maggio shoved back his chair and got to his feet. Tiny lines at the corners of his eyes twitched, and his lips were so tightly pressed together, they were pale. "I'm leaving," he said. "Your weekend game is simply an exercise in self-aggrandizement, Augustus, and I want no part in it. Will you please make arrangements for your launch to take me to the mainland?"

"I'm leaving too!" Julia announced, and jumped to her feet.

Everyone got up except Augustus, and even though they were all looking down at him, he still seemed to be the most powerful figure in the room.

"The launch was taken to the mainland and docked there for greater safety during the storm," he said. "I hadn't counted on any of you being foolish enough to refuse to play the game."

"There's a smaller boat," Buck said. "Is that gone too?"

"No," Augustus said, "but you'd have to be very desperate and somewhat mad to take a boat like that in the choppy seas."

The senator must have faced tough opponents before, because he remained calm. "Then I'll remain in my room until the launch is able to return."

He began to turn away from the table, Julia tentatively following him, but Augustus warned, "Just remember, if you leave this room you'll lose your opportunity to have your damaging secret removed from the manuscript. I prefer that you all return to your seats so the game may begin."

"I don't have any damaging secrets," Julia murmured, but she slipped back into her chair.

After a brief moment of hesitation the others followed her lead, even Senator Maggio.

Mrs. Engstrom brought in a tray of tiny macaroons and bonbons and quietly poured demitasse cups of coffee, passing them to the guests, who were all so intent on Augustus, they ignored her.

Thea, who sat at the far end of the table, seemed paler that usual and close to tears. Most of the guests looked down at their hands or away at the windows, not wanting to meet another pair of eyes, but Alex shrugged, as if he were only going along with the gag as a good sport, and asked Augustus, "You said the clues would lead to some kind of treasure. Exactly what is this treasure we'll be looking for?"

"You'll know it when you find it, and you'll find it through the clues," Augustus said, and his grin became broader.

"Aren't you going to help us?" Laura whispered.

"Of course," he answered. He reached into a deep pocket in his velvet jacket and brought out six sealed envelopes on which names had been printed in bright blue ink. He read out the names, and then passed the envelopes down each side of the table to the correct recipient. Even Thea got one.

"You might call this a warm-up to the game," he said. "Inside each envelope you'll find a personal clue. You can test your skills be seeing what you can learn from what you've just been given."

Julia didn't hesitate. She ripped open one end of the envelope and tugged out the contents. "This is a clue?" she asked. "It's nothing but part of an airline schedule, New York to Buffalo."

"And I've been given a train schedule," Senator Maggio complained.

Alex held up an enlarged section of what seemed to be a detailed map and said with a touch of sarcasm, "Maybe Augustus is suggesting the three of us plan a trip together."

"In Vietnam?" Rachel murmured. She'd been able to read a few of the names on the map.

Alex did a double-take, stared at the map a second, then folded it and dropped it into his shirt pocket. He didn't answer Rachel's question. He wouldn't even meet her eyes.

"Study your clues," Augustus said, and hunched over, chuckling to himself like an evil gnome.

Conan looked over the shoulders on each side of him. Laura was holding a list of football games and scores, while Buck stared at a list of names and telephone numbers. One was circled: Peeples, Willie.

Laura said, "You made a mistake, Augustus. These football scores must be for Buck. They don't mean anything to me."

But Julia suddenly gasped as she stared at her clue, and the senator, his face darkening, angrily folded his paper into a hard, tight square, and stuffed it into his pocket.

Thea suddenly spoke up. "Augustus, I don't want to be a part of this game."

He nodded towards her, giving a kind of bow, but he said, "Oh, yes you do, Thea."

"How could you?" she whispered. Tears came to her eyes, and her fingers trembled as she folded what looked like a travel brochure and tucked it back into the envelope.

"None of this makes any sense to me," Laura said.

"Would you like me to help you?" Conan asked. "I'm really good at clues and codes."

Laura smiled. "Oh thank-you. If you can figure this out, I'll be eternally grateful."

"Figure it out yourself, Laura!" Augustus snapped. "That's the point of this experiment- to see if you're smart enough to save your own skins!"

"I'm sorry," Rachel mumbled. "Conan was just trying to help."

"You want a clue?" he went on, looking at Conan. "All right... I'll give you a clue. In fact, yours may make more sense than all the rest of them." He pulled a scrap of paper out his pocket and bent over it, hiding it as if he were taking a test, wiggling the fingers on his left hand, while with his right hand he wrote. When he'd finished writing, he folded it over and gave it to Laura, who passed it to Conan.

When Conan smoothed the paper out flat he saw a series of numbers and recognized a simple letter-number code. One stands for A, two for B, and so on..."

7-5-20 12-15-19-20

Conan crumpled the paper into a wad and glared at Augustus.

The others had been watching, but Laura had been leaning over Conan's shoulder. "Ohhh," she said. "it was written in code, and he figured it out so fast! He is good!"

"Perhaps I underestimated you," Augustus said to him. Augustus propped his hands on the edge of the table, elbows protruding like chicken wings, and shouted, "It's late. I'd suggest you all retire to your rooms and meditate on the meanings you've found in your clues."

"What meanings?" Laura asked in a pitiful voice, but Augustus ignored her.

"There will be another set of clues for you in the morning," he said.

Thunder slammed and rolled around the house.

"The storm may interfere with your sleep, but you won't have to worry about any loss of electricity," Augustus said. "We have our own generator."

Everyone began leaving the dinning room. Conan and Rachel walked over to Thea.

"I can help you," Rachel whispered, "no matter what Augustus says."

But Thea shook her head and answered, "Thank-you. You're a dear girl, but I've already deciphered my clue. Better be off to bed. Breakfast will be served anytime after seven."

Rachel and Conan passed Mrs. Engstrom at the dining room door. She stood as quietly and motionless as a mummy- her lips held in a tight, angry line and her eyes glittering in the dim light- so Rachel started when she saw her.

"Good night, Miss Moore. Good night, Conan."

"Good night, Mrs. Engstrom." Rachel and Conan repeated.

They hurried up to their tower room, eagerly turning on the light and locking the door behind them. The storm was really noisy up here, but in a way they kind of liked the whoosh and slams of the wind and rain. It slapped the walls and rattled the windows in a sort of rhythm, like waves crashing on rocks, while lightning slashed the blackness with blue-white explosions.

Conan opened the crumpled wad of paper he was still holding. He hadn't quickly deciphered it, as Laura had thought. He'd been too angry about the little-kid code. So now he took enough time to work out which letter went with which number and came up with the message: GET LOST.

To Be Continued...