Fun and Games
Eighty-year-old Maude Gantry considered herself one of the most fortunate residents of the Green Haven senior citizens community. Despite her advanced age, she was reasonably healthy, both physically and mentally. Unlike many of the inhabitants she met at Green Haven, she had yet to find it necessary to relocate from an independent living unit to the assisted care facility—what was for most senior citizens the final stop on life's journey. She was also fortunate when it came to her financial situation. Although not wealthy, she was comfortable, thanks to an individual retirement account and her husband's pension that supplemented her social security benefits.
Although Maude had lost her husband a decade earlier, after more than fifty years of marriage, she took his death reasonably well.
He led a good life, she concluded. That's more than can be said about a lot of people.
It was not lack of love for him that was behind her stoic response to his passing. She honestly believed he would not want her to waste whatever years she had left grieving over him. If the situation were reversed and she had been the one to go first, she would want him to carry on as best he could, to enjoy the final chapter of his life without guilt.
The only corrosive to tarnish the octogenarian's golden years was boredom. An active woman in her youth and middle age, who worked a full-time job and raised three children, she was not accustomed to the long hours of leisure she faced at Green Haven. At first she filled that free time with books she never had the opportunity to read before retiring: Moby-Dick, Bleak House, War and Peace, the complete and uncut version of The Stand, The Lord of the Rings trilogy and all seven Harry Potter books.
Eventually, Maude began to miss human companionship. Reading was, after all, a solitary activity. Thus, she limited her book time and sought to join in Green Haven's social events. Mondays and Thursdays were movie nights when newly released films from Netflix were shown on the communal room's large-screen television. On Tuesdays there were fitness classes. Wednesdays were reserved for the weekly bingo games. On Friday nights there was karaoke, and on Saturday nights dances were held, although those with mobility issues only went to listen to the music and talk to their friends.
Maude's favorite night was Sunday: game night. At seven o'clock, after the dinner dishes were cleared away, game players congregated in the dining hall to play cards and other games. Over the years, Green Haven had accumulated a stockpile of board games including, among others, Risk, Scrabble, Life, Uno, Yahtzee and Stratego. There were also a number of checkers, dominos, backgammon and chess sets.
One Sunday evening, Maude walked into the dining room promptly at seven and sat down at a table with four other seniors.
"What game shall we play tonight?" asked Rudy Van Dalsen, a seventy-seven-year-old lifelong bachelor, who had devoted his life to teaching college students world history.
"Monopoly?" suggested seventy-two-year-old Inez Esposito, a former emergency room nurse who, like Rudy, had never married.
"Ugh!" Maude exclaimed. "Monopoly takes too long!"
"We can set a time limit, say two hours, and who is ever ahead at that point is the winner," Inez replied.
Maude considered moving to another table when Walt Batchelder—at eighty-six the oldest person at the table—echoed her sentiment.
"Let's play something else," he said. "I never cared much for Monopoly. I always preferred Easy Money myself."
"What will we play then?" asked Velma Steinway, whose husband, Malcolm, was in assisted care, taken down by Alzheimer's.
Before any of the others could voice an opinion, a white-haired man, unknown to the group, walked toward their table.
"May I join you in a game?" he asked in a crisp British accent.
"Certainly," Maude answered and then introduced herself and the other players at the table.
"I don't recall ever seeing you here," Walt, a former police officer, said.
"That's because I just arrived at Green Haven. My name is Jarvis Castlemaine."
"From your speech, I'd say you hail from England."
"I was born there, yes, but I've traveled most of my life."
"Is that so?"
Walt was about to ask another question when Maude interrupted him.
"This isn't an interrogation. It's game night."
"That brings us back to the question at hand: what are we going to play?" Rudy asked.
"How about a game of Cluedo?" Jarvis proposed.
"I don't think we have Clue. We did once. Then a number of the cards went missing, so someone threw the rest of the game away," Inez explained.
"Well, it just so happens that I have a vintage Cluedo game in my room, a gift from one of my relatives in London."
"I don't know if I remember how to play," Walt said.
"It's easy," Maude explained. "The object of the game is to discover who the killer is, where the murder took place and what weapon was used. This is the perfect game for you, Walt. You were a detective before you retired."
Believing he had a decided advantage over the other players, he agreed to Jarvis's proposal.
"All right. Let's play Cluedo."
* * *
"I don't see Rita Fetterman here tonight," Maude observed, as the group waited for Jarvis Castlemaine to go to his room and retrieve his game. "I've never known her to miss game night."
"Haven't you heard?" Velma asked. "Rita fell in the bathroom yesterday and broke her hip."
"Poor thing," Rudy declared, a sentiment that was echoed by both Inez and Walt.
Nearly all the residents of the senior citizens community lived in fear of falling, especially the women who often suffered from osteoporosis. For these women, a broken hip would often result in severe complications including infection, blood clots and pneumonia. In Green Haven, such an injury meant one thing: Rita would be sent to the assisted care facility.
"The same thing happened to Elsie Rasmussen not too long ago," Maude added. "You have to be careful at our age. One slip is all it takes."
"That's why I use a walker," Velma said.
"I heard Vernon Hagstrom was also sent to assisted care," Walt announced.
"Why?" Inez asked with surprise. "What happened to him?"
"Chest pains, and he's already had two heart attacks."
Maude sighed and shook her head, sorry that another friend had taken a turn for the worse and thankful that so far she managed to remain healthy and independent.
Minutes later Jarvis returned to the dining room, Cluedo in hand.
"This looks like fun," Velma announced when Jarvis put the game on the table. "How do you play it?"
"First, put all the playing pieces and weapons on the board," Jarvis answered.
"Which room?"
"It doesn't matter."
Jarvis handed each person at the table a detective's notes sheet and a pencil so that they could keep track of clues they collected. Next he separated the cards—suspects, rooms and weapons—and after drawing one from each pile, placed the three cards into an envelope.
"This," he said, holding up the envelope, "is the solution to the crime. It tells us the killer, the murder weapon and the crime scene."
He then shuffled the remaining cards together and dealt them out to the players.
"You may look at your cards, but don't show them to any of the other players."
Finally, he explained the object of the game.
"Let me get this straight," Inez said. "I mark off the cards I have on my detective's notes sheets since none of them can be inside that envelope. Then during the course of the game, if I say, 'Colonel Mustard did it in the billiard room with the dagger,' another player has to show me one of those cards if he or she has it."
"Right. You keep going through room after room, accusing people until you narrow down your choices to one suspect, one room and one weapon. Then when you think you have the solution, we see what cards are in the envelope. Okay? Everybody ready?"
Jarvis handed the die to Maude, the player on his right, and the game began. After rolling a three, she reached for her blue playing piece. What happened next could best be described as a "blinking" out rather than passing out since she did not become unconscious. One moment she was sitting at a table in Green Haven's dining room; the next she was standing in the foyer of an old English country house.
"What's happened?" she asked herself.
"It appears our host, Dr. Black, is the victim of foul play," a white-haired man with a crisp British accent replied.
Maude turned around and stared in surprise. She immediately recognized him even though he was wearing a green suit with a vicar's collar rather than the jeans and sweater he had previously worn.
"Jarvis Castlemaine! Where are we, and how on earth did we get here?"
"Jarvis Castlemaine? You must be mistaken, my dear woman. My name is Green, Reverend Green."
"I must be losing my mind!" she exclaimed. "I'm not really here. You and I were playing a game of Cluedo at Green Haven."
"Perhaps you were here to see Dr. Black?" the clergyman suggested. "That would explain your current confused state."
"No, I ...," Maude began, but abruptly stopped speaking when she looked down and noticed she was wearing a bright blue dress that dated back to the late Forties or early Fifties. "How did I get into this outfit?"
"I say, are you feeling all right, Mrs. Peacock? Perhaps I could get you a cup of tea?"
She did not bother to answer him since she doubted he existed. Rather, she believed he was nothing more than a figment of her imagination.
"I don't remember hitting my head," Maude/Mrs. Peacock muttered, talking to herself. "Could I have had a stroke? A heart attack? Or maybe ...."
A second, familiar voice interrupted her train of thought. A pompous-looking man in a yellow military uniform demanded to know where Dr. Black was.
"I'm afraid he's been murdered," Jarvis/Reverend Green answered.
"By whom?" the man who called himself Colonel Mustard, but who Maude knew as Walt Batchelder, demanded to know.
"Your guess is as good as mine. I received an invitation to a dinner party at Tudor Manor, but when I arrived, I found this note," Jarvis/Reverend Green explained and handed over a sheet of paper. "It's obviously from the killer."
"Where's the body?"
"In one of the rooms, I imagine."
"You mean you didn't look?" the colonel asked with incredulity.
"I haven't had the chance. I got here only a few minutes ago. I haven't even had the opportunity to notify the authorities yet."
"I don't believe we ought to bring in the police until we know for sure a murder has actually been committed."
"But the letter ...?"
"Habeas corpus, my good man! Show me the body."
Maude/Mrs. Peacock, still trying to make sense of the bizarre situation in which she found herself, silently watched the exchange between the two men. As they debated the best course of action, two more dinner guests arrived: Inez Esposito, dressed in a vibrant crimson evening gown, and Rudy Van Dalsen, attired in a purple tweed suit. Clearly, they represented Miss Scarlett and Professor Plum, respectively.
"Mrs. Peacock," Rudy/Professor Plum said, taking notice of the puzzled woman. "It's good to see you again."
Walt/Colonel Mustard informed the newcomers of Dr. Black's disappearance.
"Perhaps the letter is a joke of some kind," Inez/Miss Scarlett suggested.
"Doubtful," Jarvis/Reverend Green opined. "Dr. Black was not known to have much of a sense of humor."
"Well, if he is dead, the body must be in the house somewhere," Walt/Colonel Mustard said. "I say we split up and look for it."
The five guests were about to divvy up the rooms and begin their search, when a sixth guest arrived. Maude/Mrs. Peacock was not surprised to see that it was Velma Steinway, who in the topsy-turvy world of Cluedo was cast as Mrs. White.
"I'm glad you're here," Jarvis/Reverend Green said when Velma/Mrs. White entered Tudor Manor. "We could use your help."
"With what?" the bubbly woman asked. "Are you playing a party game? A scavenger hunt, perhaps? I love them."
"Not exactly," Walt/Colonel Mustard answered. "We're looking for a dead body."
"Oh, my heavens!" the elderly woman exclaimed. "Whose?"
"That of our host, Dr. Black."
* * *
Within moments of the group's splitting up, a scream pierced the night and echoed through the old house. The other five guests ran to the conservatory to discover what had upset Inez/Miss Scarlett.
"What is it? Have you found Dr. Black?" asked Jarvis/Reverend Green, the first to cross the threshold.
There was indeed a body on the floor, but it was not that of Tudor Manor's owner.
"It's not our host," the green-clad clergyman said. "Who is it?"
Maude/Mrs. Peacock recognized him immediately. It was Malcolm Steinway, Velma's husband, who had been sent to assisted care because of Alzheimer's. However, his wife, in the guise of Mrs. White, clearly did not know him.
"It's Mr. Gold," Rudy Van Dalsen/Professor Plum informed the others. "He's the handyman here at Tudor Manor. Someone's bludgeoned him with a heavy object, most likely that bloody candlestick beside the body."
"Don't touch anything," Jarvis/Reverend Green warned. "We don't want to contaminate the crime scene. Let's go into the study and call the police."
"Not yet," Walt/Colonel Mustard argued. "We haven't found Dr. Black yet. Let's continue our search before we bring in the authorities."
"What if the killer is still in the house?" Inez/Miss Scarlett cried. "I'm not going anywhere alone!"
"Me either," Velma/Mrs. White declared.
"Then we'll stay together," Jarvis/Reverend Green proposed. "It will take longer to search the house, but there is safety in numbers."
The six guests exited the conservatory and crossed the foyer. Walt/Colonel Mustard and Rudy/Professor Plum leading the way, they entered the kitchen.
That's odd, Maude/Mrs. Peacock thought, noting there were no pots and pans on the stove. Dr. Black was supposedly having a dinner party tonight, yet there's no sign of a meal being prepared.
The reason soon became apparent. The cook, Miss Grey—Rita Fetterman in the non-Cluedo world—was lying sprawled across the table, her dead eyes wide open. Rudy/Professor Plum examined the body and deduced that she had been poisoned.
"What the devil is going on?" Walt/Colonel Mustard blustered. "Two dead bodies and neither one of them belongs to Dr. Black."
"Shall we continue our search?" Jarvis/Reverend Green asked.
"I suppose so," Maude/Mrs. Peacock replied, not bothering to hide her reluctance. "Let's hope we don't find any more unexpected corpses."
Rather than pass through the butler's pantry and enter the dining room, the guests returned to the foyer, turned right and crossed the threshold into the billiard room. A third body was lying atop the billiard table, the blood from its head wound being soaked up by the green felt surface.
Vernon Hagstrom, Maude/Mrs. Peacock thought.
"It's Mr. Brown," Inez/Miss Scarlett announced. "Dr. Black's butler."
"It appears he's been coshed on the head by this lead piping," Jarvis/Reverend Green said.
"Why would someone want to kill the doctor and his servants?" Velma/Mrs. White asked.
Although the question was a rhetorical one, Rudy/Professor Plum posed a theory.
"Maybe while the killer was murdering the doctor, the servants saw too much, and he or she did not want to be recognized."
"We don't know yet if Dr. Black is dead. Where's his body?" Maude/Mrs. Peacock asked.
"Let's keep looking," Walt/Colonel Mustard ordered, as though issuing a command to the men who served beneath him.
The colonel then led the way into the lounge where they soon discovered Mrs. Silver, one of the doctor's wealthy patients, sitting in a chair, dead. The wound in her chest turned her silver lamé evening gown as crimson as Miss Scarlett's dress. A revolver lay on the floor at her feet.
"Great! Just what we need: another murder!" Maude/Mrs. Peacock exclaimed, seeing the body of the woman she knew as Elsie Rasmussen. "Mr. Gold is killed in the conservatory with a candlestick, Miss Grey in the kitchen with poison, Mr. Brown in the billiard room with lead piping and now Mrs. Silver in the lounge with a revolver. This is getting a bit too much, even if none of it is real. Maybe we should have played Monopoly."
"What the blazes are you talking about?" Walt/Colonel Mustard thundered.
Jarvis/Reverend Green attempted to calm the colonel.
"I'm afraid Mrs. Peacock is not .... herself tonight."
"You're absolutely right. I'm Maude Gantry, not Mrs. Peacock, and you're not Reverend Green; you're Jarvis Castlemaine. And this is your damned game of Cluedo."
While Maude argued with the British clergyman and Colonel Mustard, Miss Scarlett went in search of a telephone to call the police.
"Enough of this nonsensical talk," Walt/Colonel Mustard said, breaking up the argument. "Let's keep on looking for Dr. Black."
Four people then entered the ballroom, Rudy/Professor Plum having remained in the lounge to empty the revolver of any ammunition it might contain. There was, after all, a murderer on the loose.
"How the hell did she ...?"
Jarvis/Reverend Green was suddenly distracted by Velma/Mrs. White, who fell to the floor in a dead faint when she saw Inez/Miss Scarlett hanging from the end of a rope, the other end of which was attached to the ballroom chandelier.
"She's out cold," he pronounced after trying to revive Velma/Mrs. White.
"I'll take her to the library, and put her on the sofa," Walt/Colonel Mustard volunteered. "There might be some brandy there. That ought to bring her around."
"Why do you think Miss Scarlett separated from the group?" Jarvis/Reverend Green asked. "If I recall, she was the one who didn't want to be alone in the house."
"Maybe she didn't want to wait around to be the next victim," Maude/Mrs. Peacock answered, "and yet, as it turned out, that's exactly what happened."
"Speaking of separating from the group, I wonder what's become of Professor Plum. It shouldn't take that long to take bullets out of a gun."
"Perhaps he's in the library with Walt—excuse me, Colonel Mustard."
"Let's go find out."
Not familiar with the floor plan of Tudor Manor, Jarvis/Reverend Green went into Dr. Black's study rather than the library. Regardless of his error, he did manage to find Professor Plum. Unfortunately, like Mr. Gold and Mr. Brown, he had been bludgeoned to death. In his case, with a spanner; and, as in the previous two bludgeonings, the murder weapon was left with the body.
"He and Miss Scarlett were just killed," Jarvis/Reverend Green said. "It amazes me that we didn't see the killer leaving the scene of the crime."
"If my memory serves me," Maude/Mrs. Peacock said, "when I played Clue as a girl, there were secret passages in some of the rooms. But that was so long ago that I forgot which rooms they were."
"So you still believe this is only a game?"
"Honestly, I don't know what it is. Maybe I got someone's medication by mistake, and now I'm hallucinating."
Realizing the futility of further argument, Jarvis/Reverend Green left the study and walked into the library.
"Mustard, are you in here?" he called.
The colonel was nowhere in sight. Velma/Mrs. White, however, was lying on the sofa where he had deposited her.
"Mrs. White, are you feeling better?" the reverend inquired.
When he saw the gash on her head, he knew she was another victim.
"My guess is the murder weapon was the fireplace poker."
"Where did Walt run off to?" Maude/Mrs. Peacock wondered. "And we have yet to locate Dr. Black."
"I'm beginning to think he's not dead at all. In fact, I think Dr. Black is the killer."
"You might be right. And you didn't even take notes to arrive at the solution. Damn! You're good at this game."
"The hell with what Colonel Mustard said, I'm phoning the police now."
When the two remaining guests left the library they found Walt/Colonel Mustard in his yellow military uniform lying on the hall floor with a dagger in his heart.
"And the good colonel makes eight," the clergyman in the green suit said with his crisp British accent. "That leaves just me and you, Mrs. Gantry."
"You called me Mrs. Gantry, not Mrs. Peacock."
"That's right, I did, Maude."
"You know who I am."
"I do."
There was nothing remotely reverend-like in the malicious smile on Jarvis Castlemaine's face. It sent a shiver of fear down Maude's spine, and she paled as the realization suddenly hit her. It was not simple fun and games that Jarvis offered with his vintage Cluedo set; it was a deadly contest in which he came out the victor.
"I think you're the killer!" she said.
"Right again."
* * *
"She was perfectly fine a minute ago," Inez Esposito told the paramedics who answered the call for urgent medical assistance. "She picked up her playing piece and then ... bam! She went out like a light."
"Is it her heart?" Rudy Van Dalsen inquired.
"Or a stroke?" Walt Batchelder asked.
"We won't know until the doctor examines her," one paramedic answered, helping his partner move Maude Gantry's unconscious form to the gurney.
"Are you taking her to the hospital?" Velma Steinway asked.
"No. There's a doctor on duty at the assisted care facility. He'll take a look at her."
Maude's four regular game partners lowered their heads in sorrow, believing their friend would more than likely never be present for another game night. Once the paramedics wheeled her out of the dining room, they returned to their table.
"What happened to Jarvis Castlemaine?" Velma asked.
"He's gone," Inez replied. "And he's taken his Cluedo game with him."
* * *
Every Friday evening after dinner the senior citizens at the South Avalon Home for the Elderly gathered in the community room to play board games. Norman Posey, tired of checkers and unable to find someone else who knew the finer points of chess, walked to a table where three elderly women and one man were trying to decide between Trivial Pursuit and Scattergories.
"Mind if I join you?"
"Not at all," Lily Gooding, a widow who was always on the lookout for another husband, eagerly said. "We're not sure which game to play. Do you have a preference, Norman?"
"I like ...."
A white-haired man with a crisp British accent, unknown to the group, interrupted his reply.
"Have any of you ever played Cluedo?"
"Don't you mean Clue?" Lily asked, turning her charm on the Englishman.
"No. Cluedo, the original game from which Clue derived."
None of them had.
"Well, it just so happens that I have a vintage Cluedo game in my room. Why don't I go get it?" Jarvis Castlemaine said with the same smile that had so unnerved Maude Gantry.
Within a quarter of an hour, South Avalon's newest resident returned, set up the game and explained the rules. Once the solution cards were dealt to the six players, Jarvis handed the die to the player on his right, and the game began. Norman rolled a five and reached for his purple playing piece, never imagining the horror that lay ahead of him.
This story was inspired by the original Cluedo game as conceived by Anthony E. Pratt and his wife in 1944. It featured ten characters, eleven rooms and nine weapons.
I think Salem did it in the hall with a revolver.
