Murder Under the Tree Read Online Free PDF Page A

to me, smiling. “A bit sparse in branches, but just the same, dazzling.”
    Elizabeth, Elizabeth. “Thank you, Priscilla,” I said to her, staring at her new beauty mark next to her mouth.
    She turned her back to John and said quietly, “Kay, it's freezing in here. I'll have to put my coat back on.”
    The door bell rang. “Don't you have any dresses with backs to them,” I said, and smiled.
    I left to answer the door, and on the way turned the heat up. Deirdre was at the door holding a covered tray, and Mike had a bottle of champagne in each hand. He had on a gold zoot suit and wore a fedora with a large peacock feather on it. His dreadlocks peeked out from under his hat.
    “Thank you, Deirdre...I mean Eva,” I said as she handed me the tray.
    “Bacon wrapped water chestnuts, darling,” she said.
    “Yummy.”
    Deirdre walked into the kitchen with me. She watched as I put the spanakopita and wontons into the oven. I turned to take her faux fur coat. She wore an ankle length plum bias-cut cocktail dress and long black gloves. “Guess I better take these gloves off. Won't go real well with finger foods.”
    The last to arrive were Dinesh wearing a black dinner jacket and Neelam donning a below the knee emerald dress with lots of sparkling bangles, that jangled on her arms when she hugged me.
    I invited everyone to come into our transformed dining room. Jazz played softly in the background. “Welcome, everyone,” I said. “Our dear friend Ella Fitzgerald will be performing here, at the Apollo, later tonight. We are thrilled that you were able to come to our little soiree in her honor.”
    Everyone helped themselves to the food and sat down in the brightly lit room. Phil poured each a glass of champagne and then proceeded to make a toast. “To an evening of jazz and....murder. Best of luck to all of you. Prost!” Then he laughed a fiendish laugh. Phil was getting into this. When he finished his toast all of the lights went out, other than the candles on the buffet. A shot was heard. Someone let out a scream. Phil went over to the light switch, flipped it back on, and the mystery unfolded. A body lay on the floor.
    “Freddie...Freddie, the cornet player in your band...on the floor,” Elizabeth said pointing her French manicured finger at the body.
    Mike went over to the dummy, turned him over and felt for a pulse in his neck. “He's dead.”
    For a few seconds, I thought of Les until—
    Deirdre let out a bloodcurdling scream.
    I covered my mouth and tried hard to hold back my laughter. Everyone was well rehearsed in their character. It was a toss-up who was more dramatic, Elizabeth or Deirdre. They should both join the Sudbury Falls' Community Theatre.
    Each person asked questions about the victim and revealed facts. Phil got into the action, jumped up a few times from his seat accusing different people of being the murderer, saying why each person was happy that Freddy was dead. You know the saying, “He doth protest too much.”
    Dinesh and Mike in turn felt that Phil was as much of a suspect as anyone. Dinesh accused Phil of the murder since Freddy had stolen music that Phil composed, claiming it as his own. Deirdre accused Elizabeth of having a thing for Freddy and perhaps later he rejected her advances and she couldn't handle that rejection. Deirdre enjoyed that. Neelam accused Deirdre, since Deirdre was Freddy's first wife whom he cheated on with Elizabeth.
    Clues were revealed throughout the evening. Everyone denied their part. Finally, evidence proved that John killed Freddy for a totally different reason. John's mistress of five years, who John was finally going to leave his wife for, was killed in an automobile accident. The car was being driven by Freddy. Freddy was intoxicated at the time and drove off the side of a bridge. One night in a drunken stupor, Freddy told John about the incident. John murdered Freddy to get revenge for her needless death.
    The mystery game lasted until around ten