It was almost something you would read out of a book. Dottie and Marcus had this incredible bond that neither would ever implicate the other in such a crime. But Dottie was different—at times when Marcus is slightly made fun of or criticized, it seems as though she loses herself in the moment, staring into the aether notwithstanding any prior conversation that you might have been having with her.

She’s a kind woman at heart—we all knew this. If you ever find yourself in a hard spot, count on Dottie to get you out of it. But some things can go too far.

When this revelation became clear to me, I gathered everybody in the living room and proposed that we call the police.

“Sure, we will get media attention,” I said. “But we are still amateur detectives—us going around and about like this might lead us to jump to conclusions.”

Mind you, I only did this after being sure that the culprit would not resist arrest or flee.

After a brief period of consideration, everyone agreed to get the police involved. Besides, all of us would risk looking suspicious if they found out how long it took us to alert the authorities.

“Constable Lambert,” I greeted the responding officer. “We’re so glad you are here.”

“Yes, I do wish it was under better circumstances,” Lambert replied. “Timmy, here, is my partner.”

“Please take Dottie into custody,” I said.

Everybody gasped in surprise. Marcus, in particular, was not particularly pleased.

“You must be out of your mind!” Marcus said.

Needless to say, no one there was aware of my background as an intelligence officer in the war. I had seen it before—men acting as if they are unaware of themselves while they are in combat or extreme situations. But this was the first time I had seen it so up close to somebody close to me.

“After Dottie found out that Mr. Fox, or our late Cornelius, was intending to write Marcus out of the will, Dottie’s inside persona was activated—she was now Marcus himself,” I explained. “Committing the heinous crime, she acted as if she was Marcus, or at least her version of him. In a rush of rage, she pushed him out of the window, before leaving the key under her bed. She was not aware of this—but in her mind as Marcus, she must have expected me to not look under the bed for it.”

“But what of the dilated eyes? Wouldn’t that mean he was poisoned?” asked Marcus.

“No, not necessarily. There’s a myriad of reasons for your eyes to dilate, including brain injury. That must have happened right before he died,” I replied.

“Foolish! Foolish! Foolish!” Dottie said. “I am not capable of doing such a thing!”

“Dear God!” Lambert proclaimed.

“We’ll see what happens when they evaluate you,” I confidently replied. “Constable, have a look at this.”

I flashed my Mi5 membership card to the constable, proving my expertise in this field.

“Very well then,” Lambert said. “Come on Tommy, we’re taking her in.”

We all sighed in relief that the killer was caught. Surely, we can all take a rest now. We all return to our rooms in silence, mourning the death of our beloved patriarch.

“Where are the two of you going?” I asked Reg and Marcus.

“Just a little walk,” Reg said, holding his suitcase.