The advent of clues

My name’s Ernest Cunningham. I used to be a fan of reading Golden Age murder mysteries, until I found myself getting stuck in the middle of real-life ones. I’d hoped, this Christmas, that any self-respecting murderer would kick their feet up and take it easy over the holidays. I was wrong.

So here I am, backstage at the show of world-famous magician Rylan Blaze, whose benefactor has just been murdered. My suspects are all professional tricksters: masters of the art of misdirection.

THE MAGICIAN

THE ASSISTANT

THE EXECUTIVE

THE HYPNOTIST

THE IDENTICAL TWIN

THE COUNSELLOR

THE TECH

My clues are abstract: A suspect covered in blood, without a memory of how it got there. A murder committed without setting foot inside the room where it happens…

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