I would love to inform you, dear reader, of an exciting, frightening, and altogether strange night I had on October 30th, 2026. Remember that day? How dreary it was! The rain, while never too aggressive, was a constant that day, ousting opportunities for outdoor outings. I imagine this was why Mask & Wig—*cough* sorry, Mr. Duane Rockefort—moved his party from the library patio to the Olin building—*cough*, I’m sorry; his mansion. The time, though, remained the same: 6:30 PM.
I made the long trek from my apartment to his mansion. Upon my arrival, I encountered many friends in attendance, along with Mr. Rockefort himself (though some say he prefers to go by Mason Mitchell) and his companion, Fitzroy Larks (again, some say he prefers Ansh Tripathi). Larks made a comment on how “commoners” were not allowed at Mr. Rockefort’s party, a comment I suspect arose from the fact that my colleagues and I were not, how you say, “well dressed”. Normally, I find such bourgeois elitism offensive, but my own curiosity about Mr. Rockefort and his party got the better of my proletarian suspicions, and I went on with the night agreeably.
Eventually, a whole trove of guests arrived, each dressed appropriately for a 20’s inspired party… along with Babe Ruth (partial to the name Oliver Morgan). Each guest subsequently introduced themselves: Alfred Buttlesworth (Kanik-Wilton Green), the butler; Anthony Astor (Tanya Babyine) the bartender and brewmaster; the aforementioned Ruth, who needs little description; Barbara Abernath (Tyler Jordan), the reporter; Viola Finnegan (Carolina Riddell), the novelist; Lillian Sterling (Sarah Menendez) the silent film actress and Mr. Rockefort’s fiancee; Margaret Smith (Audrey Anderssen) the jazz singer and our entertainment for the night. Lastly, Iris Vanderbilt (Laurie Bickel), the heir to the Vanderbilt fortune.
After each guest introduced themselves, they engaged in friendly conversation, though savvy listeners could easily detect some undertones of antagonism between some. One had little time to dwell on such suspicions though, for not too long after the guests finished introducing themselves, did one hear a great “AGHHHHH” from the room behind them. All the guests, including myself, (with some prompting from a few of Mr. Rockefort’s staff) quickly dashed into the other room to find Mr. Rockefort… dead. Murdered! After a series of reactions from the distinguished guests, ranging from shock to sorrow to ire, we were all instructed to leave and mingle while members of Rockefort’s staff took care of the body.
During this time of mingling, us less distinguished guests had a task: talk to the various notable figures in attendance to glean information pertinent to solving the murder. At this point, my dear reader, I must admit that I could not talk to everyone, so my documentation will be incomplete. However, I can give some highlights from the people I did speak to.
My colleagues and I first conversed with Lillian Sterling, Mr. Rockefort’s fiancee. She revealed to us just how much she admired Mr. Rockefort’s estate, and suspected it to be worth millions of dollars. At this point, reader, my proletarian suspicions were awakened again! This seemed the perfect motive: seizing Mr. Rockefort’s estate. I thus kept my conversation with her in the back of my head, marking her as a prime suspect.
My colleagues and I then spoke to Mr. Alfred Buttlesworth, who struggled to hide his feelings of affection for the deceased. He, of course, never made explicit comments on the nature of his affection, but as a thespian myself, I’d like to think my “gay-dar” as it is called, is rather developed. Thus, I could detect hints of an unrequited, and perhaps forbidden, love.
We then spoke to the novelist, Viola Finnegan, and the bartender, Anthony Astor, in quick succession. Finnegan revealed that she and the deceased had a difficult working relationship, as he demanded she publish more murder mysteries, even though her aspirations lay elsewhere. Astor reassured us of the integrity of his character, how he would never fix anyone’s drink with something poisonous. He also went on about his favorite book, The Picture of Dorian Grey, giving it a beautiful—though not inconspicuous—encomium.
From there, I took a brief trip to the bathroom. Upon coming back, I reconvened with my colleagues and we discussed who we each thought committed the murder. What debate! One of my friends had a good deal of suspicion about Mr. Astor, seizing onto the fact about his favorite book. Another suspected the novelist, given her difficult relations with the deceased. I made known my own suspicions about Miss Sterling, which lit up my conversants even further!
Eventually, it came time to vote on who we thought the murderer was. I quickly cast my vote for Miss Sterling. After the voting ended, we moved back to the room, the scene of the crime, where Mr. Rockefort still lay, but now slumped on one of the desks. The notable guests re-engaged in a heated discussion at the front of the room concerning the identity of the murderer, but the discussion quickly climaxed when Lillian Sterling admitted that indeed… it was she who had done it! What’s more, she revealed that she’d done it for the sake of giving the estate to her child, yet to be born, whom she had with… Babe Ruth? Ruth seemed just as shocked at this reveal as the rest of the audience! It also came out that Mr. Buttlesworth did indeed love Mr. Rockefort, and the audience shared in the mourning of a love tragically ripped away.
Of course, Lillian tried to flee the scene not long after, but she was arrested. The time then came to close the night, with Fitzroy Larks and several of Mr. Rockefort’s staff announcing the results of the vote. In first place, for placing the correct vote the fastest, was… me! Owen Stevenson! There was confusion in the room upon this announcement, as they thought my name, “Will”. But I had—and have—no idea who this “Will” character is and I corrected them, reassuring them that my name is definitely Owen! As a prize for my sleuthing, I received a copy of The Great Gatsby, a favorite book of mine! In second place was one Sara Claire Tatum, who also received a copy of the book (however, there are rumors of her using illicit means to get this prize…).
Overall, the evening was quite eventful, and fun, despite the cold-blooded murder! Perhaps we should all be on the lookout next year if something like this event happens again. If so, more of us should attend! Maybe this “Will” Stevenson will finally show himself…