Confessions of a Theatre Snob

Sunday, December 11, 2011

Dodgy accents, cross dressing, and big frocks

1895, Thor Bridge, Hampshire, the night of the full moon. A gunshot, a locked door, and behind it a woman lay dead. Only the famous detective, Sherlock Holmes, could help to identify the murderer.

There was the American mining millionaire and his estranged daughter. His Brazilian second wife had been murdered, could one of them be the culprit?

There was the South African Miner, what was the connection between these two?

There was the brother of the murdered woman. He’d just arrived from Brazil, and now his sister is dead. Suspicious!

There was the Hungarian Countess, dark, and mysterious. Did she know something about the murder?

There was the governess, living in the house, did she know more of its secrets than she was telling?

There was her best friend, did she have an ulterior motive for visiting at that time?

I’m not telling who did it, but we had fun finding out. For the record, two people correctly identified the murderer.

And, for once, no one got drunk.

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