The Name of the Game Was Murder

by Joan Lowery Nixon

  “Do you think those are the backup disks containing the manuscript Augustus was telling us about?” Julia asked.

  “I hope so,” Laura answered, and I saw that she was back on her feet.

  “Turn on the computer,” Julia said. “There must be a file.…”

  Senator Maggio flipped the Off switch and said, “I’ve already tried it. There’s no file. Everything has been wiped out.”

  “If someone destroyed the file, the manuscript, and the disks, he’s put an end to the threat,” Alex said from behind me. Apparently he’d made a quick recovery.

  Julia’s mouth twisted as she added, “And put an end to Augustus, as well.”

  “Who did it?” Laura whispered.

  A long moment of silence followed as we all realized that one person in this room was a murderer. I could feel tickly drops of sweat skitter down my backbone, and I shivered. “The murderer has to be someone who’s familiar with computers,” I said, “someone who’d know how to delete the file.”

  Julia was the first to respond. “I don’t use a computer. I write in longhand, and Jake types up the finished manuscript for me.”

  “I don’t use a computer,” the senator said.

  “Me either,” Buck answered.

  Alex shook his head.

  “Well, don’t everybody look at me, for goodness’ sakes,” Laura complained. “I’ve never had a reason even to touch one of those things.”

  I didn’t look at her. I glanced from Julia to Alex to Senator Maggio. No matter what they’d just said, a few minutes ago each of them had proved that they knew enough about computers to understand files and disks. Each of them was lying.

  “We must notify the police,” Senator Maggio said.

  “We can’t,” I told him. “The phone lines are out. Remember?”

  This called for another moment of silence. Each of us sneaked appraising looks at the others while trying not to be seen doing it.

  Finally, Julia said, “Let’s face some plain facts and look at the positive side. Whatever Augustus had in mind for us is over now.”

  I heard Thea’s sharp intake of breath, and I wasn’t the only one who was disgusted with Julia for being so insensitive. Senator Maggio scowled at her and asked in a low voice, “Are you forgetting that Trevor’s wife is present?”

  Julia looked embarrassed, but she said, “All I meant was that the manuscript has been destroyed.”

  “No, it hasn’t,” I said.

  Everyone turned to look at me. “Everything on the hard disk in the computer was deleted, and the backup disks were burned, along with what looks like a printed copy of the manuscript,” I told them, “but Aug-Augustus was a professional writer. He wouldn’t print just one copy of his manuscript. He’d have made one to send to his agent—which he said hadn’t been sent yet—and one for himself. Even though the manuscript would be on his computer’s hard disk and on backup disks, writers always make at least two printed copies of everything they write.”

  “How do you know all this?” Laura asked me.

  “I read the writers’ magazines.” I turned to Julia for support. “You’re a writer. You do the same thing with your manuscripts, don’t you?”

  Julia’s mouth opened and closed and opened again. “Well, sure,” she said. “My—um—secretary does.”

  Mrs. Engstrom asked Aunt Thea, “Is it true what your niece said?”

  “Yes,” Thea answered. “Augustus always made a second copy of every completed manuscript.”

  “Where did he keep the copies?” the senator asked.

  “He always kept his notes and materials for whatever manuscript he was working on currently in the top drawer of that file cabinet.” She pointed, and we all turned to look. It was the drawer that had been standing open. “Since he said the manuscript had been completed, there should have been two copies of the manuscript in that drawer, as well.”

  Buck peered inside and shook his head. “It’s empty.”

  “Maybe both copies were burned.” Laura’s voice was high-pitched and excited with hope.

  The senator bent to study the contents of the fireplace. “I doubt it,” he said. “Considering that we know there were at least three hundred and ninety-five typewritten pages in that manuscript, if not more, there isn’t enough ash here to account for two manuscripts.”

  “If there’s another copy, then we should look for it,” Alex said.

  “Do we really want it found?” Laura asked.

  “I think we do,” the senator answered. “It will show up sooner or later, and if it got into the wrong hands, it might pose a future threat.”

  “Are you talking about blackmail?” Buck asked.

  No one needed to give the obvious answer, so Julia said, “We’ll find the manuscript, then destroy it without reading it. Agreed?”

  “Agreed,” everyone said.

  I was glad that none of them asked me to agree, because the real reason for finding the manuscript, as far as I was concerned, would be to read it in order to discover which of the guests had a reason for murdering Augustus.

  Buck said, “If Augustus hid it, then it’s probably somewhere in this room.”

  “We could divide the room into sections,” Julia suggested. “Two of us could take the bookcase, two the file cabinets, one the desk …”

  “Ohhh,” Laura murmured. “While … uh … Augustus is still here?”

  I couldn’t stand it any longer and shouted, “You can’t decide to search this room! It isn’t your house! It’s Aunt Thea’s house!”

  Thea moved closer and took my hand. Even though I was upset, I noticed that Mrs. Engstrom moved too, positioning herself in such a way that she blocked Augustus’s body from Thea’s view. She was a good friend. I knew that in the same situation, I would have done anything to help Darlene, and she would have done the same for me.

  “Samantha dear,” Thea said, “what happened to Augustus is horrible beyond belief.” Her fingers trembled, and I could feel shivers vibrate throughout her body. “But I’ve been heartsick at this terrible game—as Augustus called it. I can’t believe that he could have threatened and frightened our guests as he did. It was unforgivable of him. I agree with them that the manuscript should be found.”

  “Before the police get here?”

  There was a slight, silent pause, as though everyone in the room had stopped breathing until Aunt Thea said, “I think, under the circumstances, that finding the manuscript before the police arrive would be preferable.”

  That was laying it on the line. I reminded myself that Aunt Thea was one of the game-players, too, and she’d want that manuscript found and all evidence of her secret destroyed. I didn’t think that finding and destroying the manuscript was such a good idea, but it wasn’t my house, my secret past, or my husband who’d been murdered. About the only thing I could do would be to stay out of the way.

  “Let’s get busy,” Julia said.

  Senator Maggio took charge by immediately making up a list of rules and assigning everyone places. They went to their particular sections and began removing books, papers, anything in sight—only neatly, putting them back the way they had been, so everything would be in order when the police arrived.

  As I watched them work—no one had thought about giving me a job—I had a chance to go over things that had been said, and I began to wonder about Julia. She was a writer. She should know about the importance of manuscript copies. Yet she was the first one to tell us that the manuscript had been destroyed. And at breakfast she hadn’t remembered her own stories and characters. I knew, from reading what writers had to say about writing, that after living with her characters for months—maybe even years while she was plotting and writing about them—they’d be like real people. How could she forget them?

  Buck had worked gingerly through each side of the desk, opening drawers with a handkerchief, and taking care not to touch Augustus; but he’d finished, finding nothing, and had joined Julia, who was meticulously removing books
from the large bookcase and peering behind them.

  I had seen something protruding from under the sleeve of Augustus’s velvet jacket, near his right elbow. It seemed to be a small stack of envelopes, and they looked very much like those that held the clues Augustus had given to his guests the night before. I quietly walked over and slid out the stack, turned them over, and on the top, printed in bright blue ink, was the name Alex Chambers, Game Clue #2.

  I thumbed through the envelopes and, just as I thought, there was one for each of the guests and one for Aunt Thea. Augustus had told them he’d have more clues for them to figure out. Obviously, here was the batch he probably had intended to hand out right after breakfast.

  Buck leaned against the bookcase, his face more flushed than ever. “That manuscript is not in this room,” he said. “Are we going to have to search the entire house?”

  “We don’t have a choice,” the senator told him.

  But I held up the envelopes and said, “Yes, you do. These must be the next set of clues.”

  “Clues for what?” Laura asked. “Weren’t they for finding some kind of a treasure?”

  I shrugged. “I think the manuscript was supposed to be the treasure.”

  They all just stared at me, no one saying anything, so I explained. “He said it would be a significant treasure. Okay, what’s significant about the treasure hunt? Remember, he said that if you could solve the clues you could get your story removed from his manuscript? It makes sense, then, doesn’t it, that the clue solvers would find the manuscript itself?”

  “It does make sense,” the senator said slowly, “especially since it seems as though the manuscript has been hidden.”

  “So you might find it through the clues,” I said, and again held up the envelopes.

  “It’s worth a try,” Julia said. She stepped up and pulled the envelopes from my hand, riffling through them until she found the one with her name on it.

  She shoved the other envelopes back in my hand and started out of the room, but I called out, “Wait a minute. It could take forever if you work alone. Why don’t you try to solve the clues together?”

  “I don’t think so,” Senator Maggio said, “not if they’re like the first set Augustus gave us.”

  Thea said, “I’m going to be blunt about it. If your clues were like mine, then they let you know exactly what it was Augustus planned to include about each of you in his book.”

  “You’re right!” Laura said, and groaned. “No one’s going to see my clue.”

  “What if no one understood the clue except you?” I asked. “And what if you put all the clues together and came up with where the manuscript is hidden?”

  “I don’t know,” Buck said, and rubbed so hard at his chin as he thought about it, I was afraid the skin would come off.

  “I don’t like the idea of sharing information,” Julia announced.

  “Okay,” I said. “It was just an idea. For that matter, you have all weekend to go through every chest and trunk and cupboard and closet in this whole huge house. You might find the manuscript that way.”

  For a moment they were silent, and I knew they were thinking of all the rooms in this house—each one packed with furniture which could hold a manuscript. The hunt could still be on by the time the storm was over and the police arrived.

  “I like Samantha’s idea,” Alex said, surprising me. “But I want to put a qualifier in there. I suggest we take a short break and read our clues. If they’re not as personal as our first set of clues, then it does make sense to share them. We can meet in the dining room in about half an hour.”

  Laura hesitated. “What should we do about those first clues Augustus gave us?”

  “Let’s just see what’s in this second set before we decide anything,” he answered.

  Laura glanced at me. “If we’re going to try to figure this out together, could Sam help? She showed us how fast she was at figuring out her own clue.”

  I kept quiet. Now was no time for explanations. Besides, I wanted to be in on the hunt.

  “I think Samantha would be an asset to us,” Thea answered.

  Senator Maggio smoothed down a single strand of hair over his bald head and grimaced. “I suppose we’re all in this together. All right. I have no objections.”

  “Then let’s get out of here and get to work,” Julia said.

  They quickly filed from the room, but I hesitated, picking up a legal-sized, lined note pad and a pen from one side of the desk.

  Thea was the last to leave, and I waited for her until she’d quietly closed the office door. She paused only to glance toward the desk. There was no shock in her expression, just an agonizing mix of pain and hurt and sorrow that lasted only a few seconds.

  “I deeply regret that you had to see him like this,” Mrs. Engstrom said. She took Aunt Thea’s arm and ushered her down the hallway and toward the stairs.

  I tagged along behind them, walking a lot more slowly than I would have liked. I couldn’t wait to see those clues!

  SEVEN

  One half hour later we seated ourselves around the highly polished table and waited. Julia cleared her throat a few times, Laura sniffled, and Buck made a kind of humming growl that vibrated around his tonsils. We were like members of an orchestra waiting for a conductor to raise his baton as a signal that we should begin.

  The senator must have decided to take the lead, because he said, “I assume that we have all read our clues. I, for one, have determined that mine is not personal in nature, as the first clue was.”

  He removed the sheet of paper inside the envelope in his hand and laid it directly in front of him on the table.

  The others—Thea and Laura hesitating more than the rest—finally followed his example.

  I had sat next to Laura on purpose, and I brazenly leaned over her shoulder in order to read what was typed on her sheet of paper. Right in the middle of this blank white space were the words ONE WILL BE ABOVE ALL: THE TEN OF SPADES’.

  Laura turned so that our noses were almost touching. “Okay, tell,” she whispered. “What does it mean?”

  “I don’t know … yet,” I said, reluctant to give up my super-sleuth reputation. “We need to see the others.”

  No one else had spoken. The senator scowled at his paper as though, if he intimidated it enough, it would speak. Buck squinted hard at his clue and rubbed his chin again, while Alex and Julia glanced up from their papers to study the other faces in the room.

  “Have any of you figured your clues out yet?” Julia asked. “Mine tells me nothing.”

  “What does it say?” Laura asked.

  Julia held her paper a little closer to her chest and turned toward the senator. “Have we decided if we’re going to share them?”

  “Oh, for goodness’ sakes,” Laura said. She slapped her paper out flat on the table where anyone could see it and read it aloud. “Mine is nothing but the name of a dumb playing card. Did we all get the same thing?”

  “Not exactly,” Alex answered. “Mine begins in the same way: ONE WILL BE ABOVE ALL. But I’ve got the king of diamonds.”

  “Jack of clubs,” Buck said, and tossed his paper into the center of the table.

  “I have the nine of diamonds,” Thea said.

  “All right,” Julia added, and laid her sheet of paper in front of her. “Mine is the queen of hearts.”

  There was a pause before Senator Maggio intoned, as though he’d just been picked king of the hill, “If this were a card game, I’d beat you all. Mine is the ace of spades, highest in point value.”

  “Not always,” I told him. “In cribbage an ace is at the bottom and only worth one point.”

  I realized, by the look on his face, that I wasn’t exactly his favorite person, so I tried to get back to the subject of the clues. “Does each of your clues begin the same way, with the words ONE WILL BE ABOVE ALL?”

  They nodded, and the senator said, “I was trying to make the point that the ace is above all other cards.”


  “Except …” I began, then changed my mind. There was a more important point to make. “Laura’s is possessive.”

  “That’s not true,” Laura said. “I am not.”

  “Not you,” I said, “your ten of spades. See … there’s an apostrophe after it. Do the rest of them have an apostrophe?”

  “They all do,” Julia said. “What does that mean?”

  “One more thing for us to figure out,” I answered.

  Thea interrupted. “Samantha was right in suggesting we work together. Apparently that’s what Augustus intended us to do.” She sighed and added, “He set us apart with the first clues, then probably intended to see how long it would take us to realize we had to work together on the second.”

  Julia shrugged and said, “Okay, Sam, since you know so much about it, what are we supposed to do now with these stupid clues?”

  “Well,” I said, a little nervous because everyone was staring at me as though I had the answer written on my forehead, “we should look for other meanings to the clues and try as many angles as we can.”

  “Like what?” Laura asked.

  “You’ve got a spade,” I said. “What else does a spade mean?”

  Her eyes began to glimmer all green and golden as the thought struck her. “Oh!” she said, “a spade! Does that mean we’re supposed to dig for something?” She made a face. “In this rainstorm? How could Augustus do that to us?”

  “He didn’t know it was going to rain,” I said, “and we don’t know if that’s what it means.” I looked across the table at Julia. “What about your queen of hearts?”

  She tried to look modest and didn’t make it. “Perhaps it refers to me as the reigning queen of romantic novels.”

  Laura’s lip curled. “I’d hardly call your stories romantic, dear.”

  Julia had her mouth open to respond, but Thea suddenly began to chant, “ ‘The Queen of Hearts, she baked some tarts, all on a summer’s day.’ Could the clue lead to the kitchen? The Queen of Hearts’ tarts?”

  “Maybe,” I answered. I was writing everything down as fast as I could.