4:51AM.

She couldn’t stop thinking about it.

After reading it through three times she read it through another three and then she folded it and put it in her pocket and concluded that she still had no idea what was going on or what had been going on at all. She took the letter out of her pocket and unfolded it and read it again. Then she held it up in the light like a relic and squinted as if it might reveal to her some hidden coda or agenda or even something he’d written in invisible ink but there was nothing. Just what she’d already read.

‘ me,’ Irene mumbled.

She went back downstairs with the letter in her pocket and joined the others. They were still sat about playing snakes and ladders when they noticed her coming down the stairs and the only person that really seemed to care was Wheein when she said, ‘Where’ve you been?’

‘Upstairs.’

‘Well, yeah. What have you been doing?’

‘Something.’

‘She won’t give you an answer,’ Yeri said, fiddling with one of the pieces on the board. She never even looked up. It seemed there was nothing more interesting in the world than snakes and ladders.

‘Why not?’

‘Because she’s being all mysterious and now that she’s figured things out. Maybe thinks it’ll help her reputation or something. Maybe hoping one of you might leave a good Yelp review for her. Or Glass Door. Are you technically a business? A private enterprise? I dunno. I’m guessing you’re doing it in the hope that you all forget that really – and no offence here, Irene, I mean I’ve kinda grown to like you today, god help me I know – but really, you haven’t been the best detective at all. In fact, I’d go so far as to say you’ve been essentially the opposite of the best detective.’

‘What?’ Irene said. ‘What are you—’

‘Well, just think about it for a second. First, you accuse all of us. And to be fair to you, in a roundabout way of course, I can understand that. Everyone’s a suspect and all that. Can’t cross anybody off the list. Well, except Seulgi, I suppose. Love is blind, yadda yadda. But then you storm down here and point fingers at Wheein. You come up with this whole ing spiel about how she’s the killer and how she did it and all that jazz. I mean, , you invaded her room and everything. And it turns out you were just wrong. Flat-out wrong. And then you did the same with Rosie. It took you, like, three attempts to actually figure this out. Think about that for a minute. Three attempts. You don’t get three attempts at brain surgery, do you? Or space travel. Or, like…nuclear war. But for some reason we hold detectives to a different standard. A lower standard, I suppose. But…whatever. I’m not holding it against you personally or anything – we all have our flaws. But imagine if we’d all just gone along with it. Hell, imagine if you hadn’t figured that other stuff out too. Poor Wheein here would be in a whole heap of . A dinosaur-sized mountain of dinosaur .’

‘Not really,’ Wheein said nonchalantly.

‘How so?’

‘Well when the actual police showed up they’d realise it wasn’t me. And then you’d all look like clowns, wouldn’t you?’

‘Sure. Suppose you’re right. Well, not me, of course. But Irene. Irene. Irene?’

‘Sorry,’ Irene said.

‘You good?’

‘Yeah. I’m fine.’

‘Have you eaten the canapes?’

‘No.’

‘You sure?’

‘I’m fine,’ Irene said.

‘You’re looking a little under the weather there. A little distracted. Is it Seulgi?’

‘What?’

‘Seulgi on the brain? I bet it is.’

‘Aw,’ Wendy said with a smile. ‘That’s cute. I think that’s cute.’

‘Cute, in a sort of super way, sure. But not in an actual cute way. And where have you been anyway?’

‘Went to look for some food.’

‘And?’

Wendy shrugged. ‘Couldn’t find anything.’

Yeri turned back to Irene. ‘So, what is it then?’ she said. ‘It’s Seulgi, isn’t it?’

‘I don’t have Seulgi on the brain,’ Irene said, entirely serious.

‘I bet you do.’

‘I don’t.’

‘You do.’

‘I— look, whatever. I’m fine.’

‘Where are you going?’

Irene ignored her. She came back a minute later with a towel from the kitchen and nodded to Sooyoung sat on the middle couch with her mask of mud and said, ‘Hands.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Give me your hands.’

‘Is that a euphemism for something?’

‘No. Give me your hands.’

‘My actual hands?’

‘Yes. Your actual hands.’

‘Why?’

‘Just give them to me.’

She motioned for Sooyoung to hold them out and with great reluctance she did. Irene wrapped the towel around her wrists and pulled it tight and tied it in a knot at the front and gave it a slight tug to make sure it held in place and to her surprise somehow it did. ‘There,’ she said.

‘What was that for?’

‘So you can’t get any funny ideas or anything, like escaping.’

‘Or stabbing one of us,’ Rosie said.

‘Or stabbing one of us, yeah.’

Sooyoung sighed and leant back against the sofa. ‘Is this really necessary?’ she said. ‘I wasn’t planning on escaping. Or killing you, for that matter.’

‘What about the stew?’ Wheein  asked.

Silence. Sooyoung seemed to contemplate this for a moment. Then she said: ‘Alright, well, in the last hour or so, I wasn’t planning on killing any of you. In fact, I wasn’t even planning on killing you with the stew earlier either. Just Mr Kim.’

‘What if we would have eaten it?’

‘Then you would have died. Duh.’

‘Jesus.’

‘But that wasn’t my intention. Just an unintended side effect, I suppose.’

‘,’ Yeri said with a laugh. ‘I guess it’s true what they say – rich people really aren’t people, are they? Just lifeless husks. I wonder – what’s the threshold for when you stop becoming a person? Or for when you stop having empathy for other people? Is it a monetary thing? A status thing? A societal influence, once you reach a certain position in life? When people see you a certain way. Is it when you hit a certain age, too? Although, looking at you, clearly not. There must be some sort of limit where once you break past it you realise you’re no longer bound to the same rules and regulations as everyone else. You’re freed from the shackles that hold down the rest of us peons. And that’s the point where opulence takes over. Where you stop thinking in terms of groceries and start thinking in Ferraris. This corpulent sense of greed that consumes everything. I want I want I want. Me me me. If other people have to suffer, so be it, as long as I get what I want. I’ll poison a thousand chicken stews if it means I can make a quick buck from the hospital fees afterwards, right? 

‘And there you sit, lost in the relentless pursuit of the almighty dollar. It swallows you whole. All you see are dollar signs everywhere. You think: how can I make a profit from that? Will it affect others? Who cares. Not you. Your self worth is measured by how many zeroes come after your net worth. Other people stop mattering. You treat them however you like. And you sit there in your golden palace, on your golden throne, with your goblet of gold, while the unwashed masses toil away day in and day out, struggling to get by, and you laugh. You were once one of them, but you laugh all the same. Where’s that compassion gone? Where’s your humanity? If you stopped on the sidewalk a few years ago you’d consider helping someone out. Lending a hand. Now you don’t even use the sidewalk. You just get your chauffeur to drive you to your destination. 

‘That’s what happens once you get money. Rich people are by their very nature more deserving of criticism than anybody else. Nobody rich became rich in a way that was ever ethical, otherwise, well…they wouldn’t be rich would they? And if they did, they’re the outlier that proves the rule. That’s just how it goes. The world keeps turning, and the rich get richer. And richer. And then richer. And then even richer. And as for the rest of the peasants? Well, let them eat cake. That was a line attributed to Marie Antoinette, by the way, since I know none of you know enough about history to pick that up without assistance. Apparently she never said it, but who cares? The damage is done, the point is made. And it’s a very poignant point indeed.’

‘Are you done?’ Wheein said.

‘Oh, no. Not by a long shot. I could keep going all night. But I’m sure you – a rich person – doesn’t wanna hear that. Do you?’

‘Does anyone want something to eat?’ Jisoo said.

‘What?’

‘I could make another stew or something. Or at least some soup, while we wait for the police.’

‘I do,’ Wendy said. ‘I’d love a stew right about now. Preferably one that’s not got cyanide in it, though.’

‘Were you even listening?’ Yeri said.

‘Listening to what?’

Yeri clicked her teeth and sighed. After a while they returned to playing. Irene just watched them. Seulgi was still upstairs asleep and part of her held this innate desire to go and be with her but still something felt as if it were not quite right. As if things didn’t add up. The note in her pocket called to her again. She took it out and held it there in her palm and then as if she were handling some artefact put it away before anyone saw it. Yeri moved her piece on the board. ‘So,’ she said. ‘How did you get on?’

‘What?’

‘With your exploring. Find anything to your liking? Break anything again?’

‘No.’

‘To which question?’

‘To both, respectively.’

‘That’s not how it works.’

‘What?’

‘That’s not how it works,’ Yeri said, eyes still on the board. ‘If you said no to both questions, it doesn’t matter if it’s respectively or not, because—’ she sighed. Only now did she look at Irene and smile and say: ‘You know what? Never mind. You wanna play? We’re gonna start again.’

‘No, I’m good.’

‘Where are you going now?’

‘For some fresh air.’

‘Is it still raining?’

‘No,’ Irene said. She opened the front doors and stepped out into the early morning and closed them behind her and realised that it was, indeed, still raining, and if it had stopped earlier it had decided unceremoniously to start again. She stood there in the drizzle huffing like a degenerate. It was much colder than she realised. Something was wrong. There was this feeling she couldn’t shake and it made her head hurt. This sword of Damocles hanging over her. As if to say: You can’t leave. Not until you figure it out.

She looked at the letter again, careful not to get it wet. She picked out each line. Perhaps there was some code she was missing, something hidden between the words. But if so she never figured it out. After a while she folded it back into her pocket and with a sigh opened the doors and went back in.

‘You look wet,’ Yeri said.

‘Thanks. I’ve got a couple questions I want to ask.’

‘Go ahead.’

‘Not you. You.’

‘Me?’ Wheein said.

‘No. You.’

‘Me?’ said Sooyoung. ‘You already—’

‘Not you. You.’

‘Me?’ Jisoo said.

‘Yes. You.’

‘What? I don’t—’

‘Why are you here? That’s been bugging me all day. Everyone else here seems out of place, but everyone’s got a reason. I’ve figured that out. Maybe even Seulgi. Maybe even Wendy here.’

‘Thanks, boss,’ said Wendy.

‘You see, I’ve gone the whole day pointing fingers at people, figuring things out, slotting things into place. I’ve spent hours listening to everyone in this room accidentally incriminate themselves – Sooyoung lying about the bathroom faucet, as if I’d somehow never think to go and check it, Rosie giving the slip about her and Mr Jae and her family, Wheein’s OCD. Stuff like that. Even Wendy here – and no offence, Wendy – but for a while she was right at the top of my list of suspects. Right at the very top.’

‘What? But—’

‘That’s just me, sorry. Call me cynical but I started suspecting you because I didn’t think anyone could possibly be as…as….’

‘Dumb?’ Yeri said.

‘No.’

‘Blonde?’

‘No.’

‘Naïve?’

‘No.’

‘Cheery? Bubbly?’

‘Bubbly’s a good word. Let’s go with bubbly.’

‘Well,’ Wendy said.

‘But the more time passed the more I stopped suspecting you. I don’t know why. It just didn’t feel like you had it in you, or like you had the proper motive. And then we landed on Sooyoung.’

‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘You did.’

‘And I started getting this awful feeling again that I’d missed something. Something obvious. Something right in front of my face all along. You see, Yeri here was right – you’re not Tenzin Norgay.’

‘What?’ Yeri said.

‘Just how hard would it be to climb out of the bathroom window, climb in through the kitchen window, climb back out, climb up the trellising, stab Mr Kim, and climb back out again. And then in again through Wheein’s window. And then out. And then…in, through the bathroom.’

‘And then back out?’

‘No. Just in. I’m thinking that would be incredibly difficult, especially in six minutes. Which had me thinking that maybe – just maybe – she didn’t act alone. She had help. We know Rosie and Mr Jae here also attempted to kill Mr Kim, but I thought: maybe there’s someone else. Which leads me to you, Jisoo. You’ve been the quietest of everyone all night. I think most people in this room forgot you were even here. Which leads me onto my next question – why are you here? What’s your purpose?’

She looked at Irene blankly. Then she said, in a flat voice: ‘I work here.’

‘What?’

‘I work here. Or did you forget that part?’

‘Yes…you do. But that could—’

‘Irene,’ said Yeri. For the first time all night she seemed almost concerned.

‘What?’

‘I think you need a lie down, man. Rest that brain of yours.’

‘What? But—’

‘Seriously,’ said Wheein.

‘But I was just getting to the good part. And to Mr Jang as well.’

‘Jesus,’ Yeri said. She was lying partly on one of the sofas and she pulled herself up and shifted away from the snakes and ladders board and said: ‘Are you gonna accuse everyone in this house of having something to do with the murder? Next you’ll be saying, like…I dunno. Mr Kim planned his own death or some .’

‘Well—’

‘God, this is the problem with ing detectives. I saw this on a programme once. I think it was Sherlock or something. I dunno. But, like…they can’t switch off. Ever. Seulgi said the same earlier about you and, to be honest, I ignored her. I find ignoring people like Seulgi is often the wisest path of action. But I think she was right. You can’t ever switch off, can you? You’re just always…thinking. Always trying to be one step ahead of everyone. Mr Jang seems a bit weird—’

‘Thanks,’ Mr Jang said, off to the side.

‘You’re welcome. Thanks for interrupting me when I was making a point, but hey, we can’t all be perfect, can we? Where was I? Oh, yeah. Right. Mr Jang seems a bit weird, and he was outside the house, so he must be hiding something. Jisoo’s been quiet all night – thank god for that, by the way – so she must secretly be plotting with Sooyoung here. Jennie’s been…actually, what have you been doing?’

Jennie opened to speak and Yeri cut her off and continued. ‘Whatever,’ she said. ‘Doing something, I suppose. Or doing nothing. You see, that’s what’s wrong with you, Irene, man. You can’t just take anyone at face value. And to be fair to you, I get that. Private investigating probably isn’t easy. But still. Why can’t you just let bygones be bygones, you know? Some things just…are.’

Irene was silent. Part of her wanted to take the note out of her pocket and rub it in Yeri’s face and a greater part told her to just stand there and be quiet.

‘What are you trying to actually say?’ Wheein said.

Yeri sighed. ‘I’m saying that Sooyoung here is the killer, so why can’t we just except that for what it is? Why does there have been to be a deeper meaning to everyone? I think Irene’s just paranoid.’

‘That sounds like you might be guilty,’ Jennie said.

‘Oh, do shut up. God, you’re annoying. More annoying than me, even. At least I make sense most of the time.’

‘You—’

‘So,’ Yeri said. She turned to Irene again and smiled. ‘What do you say?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Irene. ‘There’s got to be—’

‘Not the answer I was looking for.’

Irene sighed. Then, eventually: ‘I’m being paranoid for no reason and there’s no bigger conspiracy and I should probably go upstairs and rest for now.’

‘See? How easy was that? Much better. And yeah, I think you’re right. Don’t worry, we’re cool down here. You go and…do whatever with Seulgi.’

Irene rubbed her head. She looked at each of them in turn. Wendy and Sooyoug on one sofa, Wheein and Rosie on another, Mr Jang stood off to the side with Jisoo, Jennie sat down in front of the snakes and ladders board, Yeri stretched out on the final sofa. It had gotten to the point where she couldn’t tell if any of them looked guilty anymore, or if they had ever looked guilty at all. Or what “looking guilty” even meant. Maybe Yeri was right. She said, quietly, ‘Maybe you’re right.’

‘I’m always right.’

‘What time is it?’

‘Five twenty,’ Wendy said.

‘Right. So we’ve got about an hour before Lisa gets back, I think. I’ll be upstairs. Probably drinking.’

‘You sure you don’t wanna play, boss?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Don’t be too noisy,’ Yeri said. ‘We’re playing games down here. Serious games, too. None of that chess .’

‘Yes ma’am.’

‘That’s better. And Irene.’

‘What?’

Yeri smiled at her. ‘If you ever need any advice,’ she said, ‘I’m right here. The wise old sage that I am.’

‘Right. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.’