The Missing Piece

"She's what?" said Detective Stewart McDougal, his eyes still trying to adjust to the sudden brightness of the light, after it had been pitch black for several minutes previously.

"I am afraid to announce that Madame Beatrice Beaumont is dead," said Doctor James Chambers, who was crouching down to the lifeless body.

All the dinner guests were standing round, each with a shocked expression, including her own delinquent nephew, Edward Smythe.  He looked on and felt sick;  his mind was in turmoil, now he truly was alone.  He did not even think about how all the mansion and 15-acre gardens and everything within it, would be his.  His aunt had no children and so everything, by default, would fall to him, so he believed.

Abigail Henry began to sob quietly into the arms of Stewart.  It had been a long time since they had even been within a metre of each other, but for now everything seemed to have faded away.  Stewart and Abigail had been married for 4 long, tiresome years.  Their marriage had ended a few years before when Abigail became depressed and attempted suicide when she discovered that Stewart was having an affair.  Now, however, things were all faded into one.  All the greys and blues were now one colour; a deep, dark black.

James sniffed as he closed Beatrice's eyes.  She had been his best patient.  Her body was perfect.  She had allowed him to perform state-of-the-art plastic surgery upon her for some years, in order to help him get somewhere in his field of medicine.

"I have called the police."  A new figure had entered the room; a tall, middle-aged figure, dressed in a 'penguin' suit.

"Very good, Jeeves."  Edward said.

The new arrival disappeared, just as he had appeared; suddenly and silently.  Obviously a master at his work, so as not disturb the occupants of the house.

James looked up at the others, "Which one of you did this?"

"What...?  Abigail began to cry once again.

"Come on, it must have been one of you, we were the only ones in the room when the lights went out."  He stood, "I know, for sure, that it was not me."

"That may be so, but how do we know that you did not do it?" said Stewart.

"I can vouch for me.  I am a respected member of the medical profession; first do not harm!"  He stood to attention as if to remember the oath.

"So, of course, that has to exclude you from this nasty incident?"  Stewart said.

"Well, of course."  James picked his glass of scotch and poured it down his throat.

"Nervous are we?"  Edward said from the chair.  He had to sit down for fear of falling, "for all we know your non-approved surgery may have killed Aunt Bea."

"Do not be preposterous, boy."

Edward snapped his head towards the doctor, "or maybe it was the fact that she was going to tell the General Medical Council of your 'unorthodox' medical procedures."

"I do not know what you are talking about, as God is my witness."  James walked over to the drinks tray and poured another 'healthy' serving of scotch.

"So, the 'good' doctor has a motive then?" said Stewart, making mental notes, well as far as he could, given that he was a little intoxicated.

"You are one to talk."  The voice came from his chest, Abigail had began pulling herself away, "you were sleeping with her."

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't pretend that it isn't true.  I followed you once and watched as you and her..." she trailed off.

James was staring at Abigail, "how long have..."

"How long have I known?"  Abigail was becoming more and more irate, "too long!"

Stewart turned and held his head in his hands, "she was going to end it and tell you all about it."

"And you couldn't let that happen, could you?" said James, "so it would seem, that you, too, have a motive for killing her," he took a sip of his drink.

The room fell silent once more.

Moments later, James spoke up, "of course, as the only surviving member of Beatrice's family, you stand to inherit an awful lot of land and money, don't you, Edward?" everybody turned to face the youth now slouching in a leather armchair.

Edward did not flinch, "and I suppose that means I killed her?" he snarled.

"Well, you would be able to pay off that £150 000 debt you have."

That caught his attention, "how did...?"

"I heard you shout it at the races three days ago, though, I didn't recognise you until I met you this evening."  James smiled and took another sip.

"A motive."  Abigail took another step back and bumped into another leather armchair, composing herself, she continued, "I can not believe that the three of you could have killed Beatrice and still stand here blaming each other."

"Perhaps you should consider your own situation," everyone's eyes turned on Edward, "last surviving member of Aunt Bea's family, am I?" he stood and walked over to a desk that was situated in the far corner.  Opening one of the draws, he immediately put his hand on an envelope.  Everybody watched with anticipation.  Walking back to the other three, Edward handed the envelope to Abigail, "go on, open it."

She did, and slowly pulled out the contents, "what is it?"  James asked before downing his scotch and pouring another.

Abigail unfolded the paper and stared at it, before dropping it and snapping at Edward, "Where did you get that?!"

"Ah, so you are not as innocent as you would have us believe."  Edward began smiling, obviously he had found some damning evidence.

Stewart picked up the paper and began reading, "this can't be true, can it?  Abi?"

Abigail, at first, ignored him, but slowly turned to face her husband, and nodded.

"But that means..."

"I am her sister."

"But..."

"I am the rightful heir to this property.  Beatrice was always Daddy's favourite, and this life," she pointed at the room, moving her arms in a circular fashion, "was meant to be mine, but she persuaded him to ship me off to boarding school, and she got this when he died."

"Abi?" Stewart began putting his arms around her.

"Don't!" she pushed him away, "you have done enough damage."

The room fell silent again.  No body had anything to say.

The door opened, in came two police officers following Jeeves, the Butler.  "The police have arrived," he announced as he stepped to the side allowing them to pass.

"So, does anybody want to tell me what happened?" said the male officer.  He had a moustache and ginger hair and looked from person to person.

All of them stood looking at each other, waiting for the other to admit it.  They all had a motive; they all could have easily done it.

James was scared that he would be struck off the General Medical Council for his dangerous and inappropriate surgery.

Abigail hated her sister for stealing her rightful inheritance and sleeping with her husband.

Stewart did not want to lose her and most certainly did not want Beatrice to tell Abigail.

Edward needed the money to pay off his debts, but was more annoyed when he found his aunt's copy of her will, detailing that everything was going to her favourite charity, Save the Children Foundation.

Each of them continued to wait for the real culprit to own up.

"I did it!"

And the final piece of the puzzle fell into place and everybody's eyes were opened.