[ WP ] A detective starts to suspect himself in a badly written novel when , instead of just arresting murderers , he finds himself with the irrational need to gather all the suspects to summarise his findings , only making the arrest after explaining why each is innocent , until only the guilty are left .

It was the perfect night to solve a mystery, which made me all the more suspicious. Outside, the rain hammered down against the tin roof of the mansion we were currently trapped within and though the bridge tender promised the road would be open as soon as the rain let up, I had other concerns. Still, I had a murder to solve and everyone had already gathered in the living room where the only working fireplace consumed the wood offered to it like a hungry God. 
 
 `` I'm sure you're all wondering why I've gathered you here today,'' I began. All eyes were on me and it was time for me to summarize the facts I'd painstakingly - 
 
 `` Not really, no,'' Jeffrey interrupted. He was a Butler with a past as dirty as the dishes in his kitchen. It did n't surprise me that he would interrupt me as - 
 
 `` I invited you here as a guest and I can assure you getting caught in this damnable rain with a murderer was not on the agenda. Considering you're a famous detective, it seems logical that you'd want to solve the murder. Hence your instructions on gathering everyone in the den,'' Dame Margaret said. 
 
 `` Honestly, can we get on with it?'' Leopold asked. He was the Madam's banker and his presence here did n't go unnoticed. 
 
 `` I'll get on with it, as you requested,'' I cleared my throat. `` Now, there is no doubt that I was invited here at the invitation of one Dame Margaret Stockington, heir of the - `` 
 
 `` May I skip this part?'' Alex asked. 
 
 She had been an unknown in my book until caught up in a romantic rendezvous witnessed by none other than myself. She was a woman deadly any viper, but not the murderer I'd been looking for. That she was placed as a red herring was obvious to anyone with half a brain. Even the poorest written stories hid their suspected villains better than this girl was thrown to the sacrificial altar. Murder weapon in her luggage: check. Motive: check. I'd even found her standing over the body with the blood still warm on her hands. 
 
 `` You may not,'' I said and rightly so. `` Sit down, if you will. I shant be very long.'' 
 
 `` Fuck. Alright! I did it, ok?'' Sam said. He was the dew-kissed, doe-eyed man child with a heart of gold and yet no one gasped when he confessed. 
 
 `` Ah-ha! So you admit to killing your father?'' I asked. 
 
 `` Gladly, now can we just end this?'' He begged. `` The roads will be clear soon. I'd rather spend the rest of the evening in peace.'' 
 
 `` But I have n't even begun to explain your motive, which I divined out of the various clues you so recklessly left about. You see,'' I began. 
 
 `` No! Jesus. I killed him because he was an asshole, ok?'' Sam sighed. 
 
 `` But the money...'' 
 
 `` I'm his eldest child! He has nothing I want!'' Sam said. `` Lord, I did n't even try to cover it up! I killed him in front of you, but you were busy hounding the butler and then you spent the rest of the night badgering poor Alex.'' 
 
 I lapsed into silence. It was n't an uneducated silence like some of these poor sods would frequently find themselves within, no, mine was an educated, fact-finding silence. The kind you'd find in any great den of great minds. It was merely a matter of deducing one's thoughts into a concentrated formula and distilling the result. 
 
 `` No! Shut it!'' Sam said before I could speak. `` You were gon na talk again. I saw you! Now it's time for everyone to just go to bed.'' 
 
 `` I agree with Sam,'' Alex said. 
 
 `` I'll fetch dinner if this charade is quite over with?'' Jeffrey rose to leave for the kitchen. 
 
 `` I think I'll have some more of that delightful soup if we have any left? With a glass of brandy?'' Dame Margaret asked. 
 
 `` No!'' I shouted in a most tactless manner. `` No one is leaving until I lay down the events of the past few days and what led me to - `` 
 
 I stopped talking when a pain blossomed in my chest. Lo, there was little Sammy holding on to the bloody knife. The same knife I'd left so unprofessionally on the table next to me. My words left me though he did help me to the ground and remove the offending object. 
 
 `` But... but...'' I tried to finish. 
 
 `` Let me do it,'' Sam smiled. `` I killed the Detective in the den with a knife and when they come for us tomorrow, they'll find only the sullied reputation of a once world famous detective turned murderer along with a house full of witnesses who will swear to my good name. After all, you had dirt on everyone. Who here is going to disagree with me?'' 
 
 `` For God's sake, Sam,'' Dame Margaret said as the world grew dim. `` Do n't let him bleed on my carpet. I just had them cleaned...'' 
 

