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(But here's what really happened.......)
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten anyone,” said Athos, switching the power back on.
“You’re a bit late for that!” shouted D’artagnan.
“Then there were three more murders.” Athos said with a look of excitement in his eyes.
“So, who did it!” everyone shouted back.
“Let’s consider each murder one by one. Professor Aramis,” he said going up to the man, “you knew that Rochefort was still alive. Even psychiatrists can tell the difference between a patient who is alive or dead. You fired the gun at him in the dark and missed, so you pretended he was dead. That’s how you were able to kill him later, unobserved.”
“That’s right,” exclaimed Milady, pointing a finger at the Professor. “He was the missing person in the kitchen after we found Lemay dead.”
“But he was with us in the billiard room when we found Marguerite screaming,” D’artagnan said. “If that’s when Lemay was killed, how did he do it?”
“I didn’t!” Professor Aramis protested.
“You don’t expect us to believe that, do you?” asked Constance.
“I expect you to believe it,” Athos said, turning to her. “You killed Lemay. He used to be your cook. And he informed on you to Rochefort. You made one fatal mistake.” He hurried the group into the dining room and stood by the seat where Constance sat during dinner.
“Here, at dinner,” he said sitting down, “Constance said that she was eating one of her favorite recipes. And monkey’s brains, though popular in Cantonese cuisine, are not often to be found in Paris, France” Athos rose from his seat and took them back to the hall.
“Captain Treville,” he said, opening the front door, “when we saw de Foix at the front door, you took the key to the weapons cupboard out of my pocket, then suggested that we all split up. You separated from Milady, crossed the hall, opened the cupboard, took the wrench, ran to the conservatory, entered the lounge through the secret passage, killed de Foix with a blow on the head,” Athos said as he demonstrated the movement in the lounge, “like that.” Athos ran out of the lounge, grabbing Anne’s hand and dragging her toward the staircase.
“This is incredible,” Anne gasped, trying to keep up.
“Not so incredible as what happened next,” Athos said dropping Anne’s hand, letting her stumble on the stairs while he hurried up to the landing. “After we all split up again, I went upstairs with you. Yes, you,” he said pointing at her, “Anne. And while I was in the master bedroom, you hurried downstairs and turned off the electricity, got the rope from the open cupboard, and throttled Marguerite.” Athos went downstairs to the billiard room where Marguerite’s body lay. “You were jealous that your husband was schtupping Marguerite. That’s why you killed him too!”
“Yes,” Anne said, coming down the steps. “Yes, I did it. I killed Marguerite. I hated her SO much, it, it was, it, it, flames,” her hands went up toward her face as though to demonstrate, “flames on the side of my face, breathing, breathing, breath, heaving breaths, heaving,”
“But while you were in the billiard room,” Athos interrupted her, “Milady seized the opportunity and under cover of darkness got to the library, where she hit Richelieu, whom she’d been bribing, on the head with the lead pipe. True or False?” he said to Milady.
“True,” Milady said with a giggle, crossing her arms under her chest. “Who are you, Perry Mason?”
“So, it must have been D’artagnan who shot Sylvie,” Professor Aramis said, pointing to the younger man.
“I didn’t do it!” D’artagnan protested, looking at the group.
“Well, there’s nobody else left,” Captain Treville told him.
“But I didn’t do it!” D’artagnan repeated. Then it hit him. “The gun is missing,” he said excitedly. “Whoever’s got the gun shot Sylvie!”
Athos pulled the gun from his pocket. “I shot her,” he said with an amused smile, pointing the gun at the group.
“You!” everyone exclaimed in unison. Milady backed away from Athos to stand next to D’artagnan.
“So, it was you,” D’artagnan said. “I was going to expose you.”
“I know,” Athos said calmly, still pointing the gun, “so I choose to expose myself.”
“Please, there are ladies present,” Captain Treville said with a look of disgust.
“You all thought Rochefort was dead. But why? None of you even met him until tonight.” Athos said, coming forward.
“You’re Rochefort!” D’artagnan exclaimed as he and Milady realized they’d been had. Athos let out a sinister sounding chuckle.
“Wait a minute!” Professor Aramis said, going to the drawing room where the dead man was. “So, who did I kill?”
“My butler,” Athos said smoothly.
“Oh, shucks,” Aramis muttered, disappointed that he hadn’t killed the person he meant to. Athos gestured with the gun for him to go back where he was, and Professor Aramis rejoined the others.
“He was expendable, just like all of you,” Athos told them as the stood in a line. “I’m grateful to you all for disposing of my network of spies and informers. Saved me a lot of trouble.” He stopped when he reached the end. “Now there’s no evidence against me,” he said cheerfully.
“So, this all has nothing to do with my disappearing absolute monarchist husband or Captain Treville’s work on the new top secret explosive powder,” Anne said.
“No,” Athos chuckled. “War with Spain was just a red herring.” Still pointing the gun, Athos quickly backed up toward the door.
“But the police will be here any minute,” D’artagnan said as Athos went up the steps. “You’ll never get away with this. Any of you.”
Athos stood in front of the door. “Why should the police come?” he asked. “Nobody’s called them.”
“You mean…Oh my God,” Constance exclaimed. “Of course!”
“So, why shouldn’t we get away with it?” Athos said. “We’ll throw the bodies in the cellar, lock it, leave quietly one at a time, and forget that any of this ever happened.”
“And you’ll just,” D’artagnan said, taking off his glasses and putting them in his pocket, “you’ll just go on blackmailing us all.”
“Of course,” Athos replied. “Why not?”
“I’ll tell you why not,” D’artagnan said, reaching into his jacket. Before Athos could react, D’artagnan went down on one knee and fired his gun. Wounded, Athos dropped his gun and staggered back against the post as Milady screamed.
“Good shot, D’artagnan,” Athos gasped, sinking to the floor. He felt the wound, drawing back his hand to see the blood on his fingers. “Very good,” he said, his head falling back as he expired.
D’artagnan got to his feet as the others stood there, looking stunned. Anne ran up to him, stopping short when he turned around with the gun still in his hand.
“Are you a cop?” she asked.
“No, I’m a plant,” D’artagnan replied.
“A plant?” Milady deadpanned. “I thought guys like you were usually called a fruit.”
“Very funny,” D’artagnan said, taking a badge from his jacket pocket and opening it. “Surete Nationale. That phone call from Charles de Gaulle was for me.” Dartagnan went up to the door. “I told you I didn’t do it,” he said opening the door. A dozen police and Surete men rushed in, guns pointing at everyone as they put their hands up.
“Well, who done it?” Chief Porthos asked as he came to stand by D’artagnan.
“They all did it,” D’artagnan said as the others tried to put the blame on each other, cutting them off. “But if you want to know who killed Athos, I did. In the hall. With the revolver.” He returned his gun to its holster.
“Alright, Chief,” he said as Porthos slapped him on the shoulder, “take ‘em away. I’m going to go home and sleep with my wife.”