A Midsummer Night’s Murder

Forget Shakespeare; lurking deep in the heart of Stratford-Upon-Avon is murder, mystery and mayhem.

As soon as I parked outside the Grosvenor Hotel in the centre of Stratford and saw the huge ‘Skulduggery Murder Mystery’ signs everywhere, I knew this would be no ordinary weekend.

The setting could not have been better; a Grade II listed building encompassing narrow corridors, multiple doors, traditional décor and more twists and turns than you can shake a stick at, all set in the heart of a charming town steeped in history.

Upon check-in you are given the plot details and a pen and notepad for the weekend. I could not contain my excitement so I hurried to my room, dumped my bags on the bed and immediately started writing up notes on the dubious-sounding characters.

Although you could arrive anytime from 2pm on the Friday, it was gone 5pm by the time I got there; just enough time to make myself a cup of tea, take a shower and get ready for the evening’s entertainment, which started at 7.30pm in the bar (where all good things start).

I quickly realised that a Murder Mystery weekend is the sort of break where you meet people; my friend and I shared table with a mother and daughter and started chatting straight away. Is this your first time? Yes. We were all Murder Mystery Virgins.

Soon a woman in a white shirt and black skirt marched over and asked if we were having a good evening. What a friendly waitress I thought, until I realised that funnily enough, she was an actress. “Pleased to meet you, I’m Eve Apple,” she said. We all searched our notes. She was having an affair with a married man, Tony. Eyeing her suspiciously, I asked: “Have you got a boyfriend?”

“No, I’m single,” she replied. Ah. This isn’t going to be easy. Completely fazed by this, I didn’t interrogate her further. She moved on to the next table. Damn!

We met the remainder of the cast in the bar, which consisted of three couples; Tony and Cleo, Albie and Vicky and Richie and Liz. All of them looked untrustworthy, and so flamboyant you could tell them a mile off - although with Vicky I did wonder for a second whether she was just a loud drunk woman.

The whistle soon went, a sign that we were all to proceed to the ‘Grosvenor Suite’ for dinner. On the way there, it seemed to be taking a long time for the crowd of people to get through the doors. What could be taking so long? I asked myself innocently. As if reading my mind, a waiter passed by and said; “I think there might be a dead body.”

Sure enough, slumped over a table was Eve, complete with blood stain and ripped shirt. I had suddenly gone off eating.

The actors (or the ‘suspects’) were gasping in mock horror, crying out for someone to call the police. Richie promptly ran off saying he’d do it. It was all very dramatic!

Just as I’d sat down on one of the round tables, trying to act normally around my fellow diners, a ‘police officer’ charged in. “My name is Inspector Pratt”, he informed us. This was getting better and better.

The dead body was promptly removed (thanks goodness) and we tucked in to our starters. After each course, the suspects would throw around accusations as well as interact with us, providing an opportunity to ask them any questions.

Inspector Pratt was a welcome figure; turning the chaos into order, just sticking the facts. “You’re looking for means, motive and opportunity,” he said, pacing up and down the room assertively. “Eve Apple was killed with a kitchen knife. Who had the chance to go to the kitchen tonight?”

So we then attempted to ascertain where everyone was. Apparently Eve was seen by several people rushing out of the bar on a mobile shortly before she died; I must have missed that.

Of course everyone had their feeble excuses as to where they were. It sounded like everyone was lying to me. Who were we meant to believe?

It wasn’t until after dinner that the Inspector made us listen to a taped phone call; from a mysterious ‘Anna’ to Cleo, informing her of her husband’s affair with Eve. Based solely on this, he promptly arrested her for ‘questioning’. She literally went kicking and screaming. We all cheered.

The fun ended at 10.30pm, although many people gathered in the bar for some post-dinner drinks. Who does everybody think did it? No clue. We needed something more concrete to go on.

Sure enough, the following morning, after breakfast, some new evidence came to light.

We all had to gather in the Grosvenor Suite at 10am, where coffee was served. Inspector Pratt commented on a few of us looking ‘worse for wear.’ We all grinned at each other knowingly, but when Cleo staggered down the stairs into the room, suddenly I didn’t look so bad.

She clearly was meant to look like she’d spent the night in a cell, clutching her stilettos with messed up hair and smeared lipstick. However, we were told that the police had not ‘got anything out of her’, despite her being ‘prodded and probed’ all night. Oh well.

Despite this initial disappointment, two facts were made known to us during the two-hour ‘investigation’; Vicky had been in prison two years ago and Albie had written a cheque for £10,000 to Eve two days before she was murdered. We all noted this down.

At midday we were let loose in the ‘Shakespearian Market Town’ of Stratford, which I would recommend visiting on its own, with its fascinating Tudor houses and historical tours. Failing that, there are plenty of shops, bars and restaurants dotted along the river, which makes for an enjoyable afternoon, especially on a sunny day.

For the majority of the dinner that night, not a great deal more was revealed. It was 10pm, and with only half an hour to go until the fun ended, I wondered if they were saving the best for last. Just as we were debating this, we heard two extremely loud gunshots. I nearly jumped out of my seat!

I heard a voice from upstairs cry: “Someone’s been shot!” We all rushed to see what the fuss was about, and there, lying down next to each other, were Albie and Vicky, shot dead. I was gob smacked; I certainly hadn’t seen that coming!

All was revealed the next morning, when we were all slightly blurry-eyed, and I won’t spoil it by telling you ‘whodunnit’, but I will say this: what a cracking good time I had.

Some people, I noticed, clearly take this sort of weekend seriously, asking in-depth questions and jotting down notes furiously. Others are just along for the ride; to have a giggle and make some friends.

One thing that surprised me was the variety of people who were there. Whether you were a middle-aged couple or a young group, everyone seemed to get on.

However, it was odd having to attend a sort of ‘seminar’ in the mornings, especially when we had all been ‘celebrating’ the night before, and I wasn’t sure whether I liked having to be somewhere at a certain time on my weekend. Having said that, I really enjoyed it once I was there, and the time went very quickly. I would definitely recommend trying it out, just to say you’ve done it - and definitely for the entertainment value.

If you enjoy doing as you please while on a weekend break, however, without any time restraints, and like to keep yourself to yourself, it’s not for you. But if you’re the sort of person who thrives on meeting new people and taking part in some fun-filled action, you’ll have a great time.

By Jessica Smith.