CREDITS:

Story by talitavasconcelos

Traduction by Gabriela Silva

Ever since she had moved into the most luxurious house in the area, Joy Gatsby had been the target of all kinds of speculation. Among other things, people questioned the origin of her fortune. Some said that she had been a railroad heiress, and was now squandering the fortune her parents had worked so hard to earn with her extravagant parties; others claimed that she had been a courtesan in Paris, and was now enjoying the dirty money she had earned in the brothels and cabarets of the City of Light in America; others, more malicious, said that she had married for money, and had murdered her husband during their honeymoon. What everyone agreed on was that Joy Gatsby was a new rich whose surname impressed absolutely no one.

Ironically, everyone somehow got closer to the truth with their evil theories.

For an entire month, the beautiful woman had filled her house every night with dozens of strangers, offering lively parties with champagne and music. No one needed to be invited. All you had to do was turn up and enjoy yourself.

It came as a surprise to everyone when, two weeks ago, her last party came to a tragic end: the hostess was found dead on her office bed in the dark, her throat slit. Her champagne glass lay on the carpet next to her, a vase of flowers had toppled over next to the sideboard, and her beautiful green eyes reflected the moon shining through the window.

The house was almost empty when the body was found by the butler. Joy had instructed the servants to discreetly ask people to leave, but seven people were gathered, on her orders, in the drawing room for a "final toast".

As she was slow to appear, the butler went to call her into the study and found her dead body.

The seven people who remained in the house were thoroughly questioned on the night of the murder, and in the days that followed, Police Investigator Arthur Holmes - second cousin of the famous American-born English detective - investigated their pasts and their relationships with the victim. Now, convinced that he had solved the mystery, he brought them back together in the living room of Joy Gatsby's mansion for a final confrontation, where he hoped to determine, without a shadow of a doubt, who the murderer was.

- This type of case is the Achilles heel of any investigator. The victim is a wealthy woman, on whom everyone has the worst suspicions, murdered in her own home during a party. Literally dozens of suspects. However, when I first examined the crime scene, I was informed by Mr. Tebaldo, the butler, that the house had been emptied at the request of the victim herself; all the doors, except the one leading from the drawing room to the garden, had been locked; and only seven people were inside the house at the time of the murder. This should have made my job easier, and yet it didn't. And the main difficulty in reaching any conclusions lies in the fact that almost all of you claimed to have known the victim only recently. You attended her parties; sometimes you dropped in for a mid-afternoon tea; you drove around the city; you saw her in your establishments... No one had any closer relationship with Mrs. Gatsby that could justify, if I may use that term, her murder. And yet, one of you killed her.

The detective paused, observing the suspects' reactions. They all did their best to appear calm in the face of the accusation.

- In my opinion, this case will only be solved if we can establish a chronology of the facts, and of the information that you yourselves have given me in your statements. I can say that three of you have been completely honest with me. All the others have lied or omitted information.

The detective consulted his notes.

- The facts of the case are as follows: Joy Gatsby, twenty-nine, was found dead by her butler inside her office at approximately half past midnight on June 6th. The doctor established that she was killed between eleven o'clock and midnight. Joy was seen alive by several of you around half past ten, and at eleven o'clock by Mr. George Wilson. Her voice would still have been heard around midnight by Mr. Romeo Montecchio, when he believes she went into the office; however, when he looked for her there afterwards, there was no one inside, and the lights were off. About half an hour later, she was found dead inside the office, without any of you having seen her or anyone else going in there. A truly astonishing case!

"You were all gathered in the drawing room when Joy was found dead, but you didn't all arrive here together. First, George and Myrtle Wilson arrived from the garden; Romeo Montecchio followed, coming out of the study; then Daisy Buchanan, coming from the toilet on the second floor; then Jordan Baker and Nicole Carraway, coming from the garden; lastly, Tom Buchanan, coming from the dining room.

- "Actually, he went down the steps, around the pool and into the darkness between the trees," corrected Myrtle Wilson.

- "Correct," agreed Baker. - But I didn't find anyone. If there really was someone out there, they left or hid before I could reach them.

- "Right," Holmes continued, putting the notes away. - And by then all the other guests had left the house?

- "Exactly," confirmed the butler. - The waiters serving the snacks and drinks were instructed to ask everyone to leave, as Mrs. Gatsby needed to clear the house.

- What explanation was given to the people for this request?

- None. The party was simply over.

- And absolutely no one was left behind?

- We inspected the whole house, following Mrs. Gatsby's instructions: bedrooms, bathrooms, kitchen, pantry, cellar, all the other rooms and also the garden. When I went to look for her in the study, there was no one in the house except the servants and these people she had asked to stay.

- And why did she ask you to stay?

- "For a special toast," replied Daisy.

- "Very well," said Holmes. - "We know that no one needed an invitation to attend Gatsby's parties. However, you were all invited in some way. The Wilsons on the night of the murder, and the others before that, after which you became regulars at his parties. The only exception was Mr. Romeo, who came because he was curious to see an old acquaintance again.

- I wasn't really invited by Joy either," Jordan Baker clarified. -

It was a friend with whom I play golf who first invited me to Gatsby's house.

- "Indeed," agreed Holmes. - "And Miss Nicole Carraway wasn't invited because she was the victim's neighbor, but because she was related to the lady of the mansion on the other side of the lake, Daisy Buchanan.

- Yes, we're cousins on the mother's side.

- Did Mrs. Gatsby ever tell you how she knew you were related?

- Honestly, I don't remember asking.

- But when you asked her where she knew Mrs. Buchanan from, her answer was, in her own words, "It was a long time ago. In another life". Mr. Baker also mentioned that Gatsby knew that the friend he had told you about, Tom Buchanan, was Daisy's husband, implying that he knew them, or at least knew Mrs. Buchanan.

- That's right - confirmed Baker.

- And yet Mrs. Buchanan denies having met her before attending her party for the first time. An invitation she also denied having received, until I mentioned that Mrs. Gatsby had asked her cousin to invite her. Her husband, Tom Buchanan, also denied having met the victim before going to the party, but, according to Ms. Carraway, Mrs. Gatsby "didn't want Tom to know that she lived in this mansion". Which clearly suggests that they knew each other. And you also implied that you didn't consider Mrs. Gatsby to be a "family woman". And the two of them were uncomfortable finding out who their new neighbor was, and managed to talk to her alone in the study, at different times, the first night they were in this house; after that, they began to feel at ease with her. So much so that Mrs. Buchanan began to frequent the house during the day, without her husband knowing, because Tom "didn't consider Mrs. Gatsby suitable company for his wife," and Mr. Buchanan agreed to let her join his circle of friends.

- "If we're going to be accused of anything, I demand that you stop beating around the bush and say it straight," said Tom, irritated.

- "In due course, Mr. Buchanan," Holmes assured him. - "I'm trying to sort out the facts and contradictions in your statements. Mr. Baker admitted that he had been flirting simultaneously with Miss Carraway and Mrs. Gatsby in recent weeks.

- Let it be clear that I made no promises, nor was I disrespectful to either of them," remarked Baker.

- The Wilsons, for their part, claimed not to know Mrs. Gatsby at all, but that they came to the party on the night of her death because they had received an invitation from her earlier.

- That's right," confirmed George Wilson.

- And even though they didn't know each other, she asked them to stay for that "special toast" with her friends. Why was that?

- How should we know? - George exclaimed.

- When you were with her at the party, Mrs. Wilson gave the impression that she didn't like Joy at first sight. According to some of you, she seemed jealous because her husband was over-praising the beauty of the hostess. However, when I questioned you, you denied that your husband had made advances to Mrs. Gatsby, stating that Mr. Wilson "is not the type to pester beautiful women". Should I believe you more than the testimony of three other people?

- That's what I said. George behaved like a gentleman the whole time.

- And Mr. Romeo Montecchio was seen arguing with the victim in his garden a few days before her death. Even so, she seemed to have some consideration for him, since she asked him to stay that night.

- Joy and I didn't argue when Ms. Carraway walked down the sidewalk on the day in question. We just reminisced about old times.

- And there was a lot to remember, wasn't there?

- What are you getting at? - interrupted Tom. - Do you want to charge one of us with Joy's murder, or are you just speculating to see if anyone confesses? Because if so, you need to improve your investigative tactics, old boy.

- "As I said at the beginning, this is an astonishing case," said Holmes. - "Because it's not just one crime; it's two. Two murders that took place in this house at different times, but in similar circumstances. And what's worse: both crimes were committed by the same person.

Holmes watched the confused and alarmed faces around him as he calmly removed an envelope from his inside jacket pocket.

- "I have in my hands a letter written by Mrs. Gatsby," he continued, "and given to me on the night of her death. Joy knew she was going to be murdered that night, and she sent me a warning so that I could discover her killer. That's why I got here before the police. My only regret is that I wasn't able to get to this house in time to stop the crime.

Nicole Carraway discreetly dried a tear on her cheek.

- "If you will allow me, I will now read the letter," said Holmes, unfolding a thin sheaf of papers.

"Dear Mr. Arthur Holmes,

I'm here to fill you in on some possibly shocking details about the people I've asked to stay at my house tonight. Among them is a murderer.

Five years ago, in this very house, Count Paris was murdered while examining documents in his study. The crime was never solved, partly because the police hesitated to investigate more deeply into very influential people in this city. But from what I've heard, you are not intimidated by such things, so I have faith that you will be able to unravel this mystery and bring the murderer of my dear Paris to justice.

Right away, I can tell you that I believe one of the people I asked to stay after the other guests left is the murderer. Don't suspect Miss Carraway. She's the only one I'm absolutely certain is innocent. Especially since she didn't even live in this town at the time.

If I'm right, it's possible that I'll be murdered tonight. I will leave without fear, if that is the case, but I sincerely hope that my death and that of Paris will not go unpunished.

To help you with your investigations, I am attaching information that these people will certainly not give you willingly. It's a sordid and obscure past that many of them hide, but it can help paint a picture of who they were at the time, their relationship with Paris and me, and what might have led one of them to commit this crime."

Holmes turned over the first sheet of paper and proceeded to read the next:

"The first thing you should know is who I really am, and to what extent the rumors about me are true. My real name is Julia Capulet, but five years ago people in this town knew me as Juliet. I was one of the courtesans at the Verona Club, owned by Romeo Montecchio; a front for the mafia run by his family. He was the first to nickname me Joy, the rare jewel of his house. It was there that I met Paris. He used to frequent the place and was always served by the same girl, Rosalina. She adored him. She praised him for treating her like "a true lady should be treated". It was his money that really treated her well.

One evening, however, Rosalina was in one of the alcoves with a client when Paris entered the Club. So I attended to him. And he never looked for Rosalina after that.

I'm not a fool to think that he fell in love with me. I know what I was, and a man like him would never want a harlot for a wife. Nevertheless, Paris was charmed enough to invite me to live in his mansion. I became his concubine. I know he went back to Verona a few times after that, where I imagine he had fun with Rosalina, but I didn't care. He had given me more than I could ever wish for: exclusivity, a roof over my head and comfort. That, for a woman in my profession, was the world.

But, of course, I didn't expect to live in his house forever. At some point, a man of his position and title would want a respectable wife to give him heirs.

It was then that Daisy Fay came into her life. At the time, she was a debutante, looking for a wealthy suitor, whose family was in financial decline, but striving to maintain its aristocratic pose. Daisy believed that her beauty would be enough to attract a good match.

And she was right. She attracted them like flowers attract bees.

Except Paris. His title and fortune were exactly what she wanted, but he was never her suitor. And that infuriated her. Daisy could never bear to know that he was married to a harlot when he could have had a dignified and beautiful wife like her.

That's when she started going to this house. It's one thing for a man not to want to marry a girl; it's another to dismiss her when she's willing to frequent his bed.

I don't imagine Tom ever knew that. But Daisy must also not have known that, while I was working at Verona, Tom was one of my most frequent clients.

It was through Paris that Daisy met Tom. He had been the Count's partner in the illegal drinks trade since the implementation of Prohibition. At the time of his death, Páris was seriously considering giving up this business and investing in oil, car factories and cinemas.

Had he done so, he would have left Tom ruined.

Which would have been good, perhaps, for Jordan Baker, then Daisy Fay's most determined suitor. Another secret from her past that I imagine Tom doesn't know. Jordan had stuck to Daisy like a tick for months, trying to win her over in every way, but his fortune at the time was derisory. Who would have thought that golf courses would appreciate in value so much in recent years? If she had been patient and waited for him, she would be even richer today.

After Paris died, Romeo made several attempts to take me back to Verona, but I didn't want that life any more. So I decided to leave for Pennsylvania, where I met James Gatsby, an old steel millionaire from Pittsburgh. Mr. Gatsby was very ill, and I was employed as a caretaker in his home. One day, after some hints from acquaintances of his who had visited New York and the Verona Club when I was still working there, he asked me to tell him my story. I told him everything. All the sordid details. He was moved by my story, and gave me the greatest charity of all that I have received in my life. James had no children and no heirs. So he asked me to marry him and inherit his fortune. That way, I could return to this city and demand justice for the Count's death.

That's how I became Joy Gatsby.

Paris was murdered on New Year's Eve in 1923. I was having a party, and these five people, who, in my opinion, are the main suspects, were in the house: Daisy Fay, the rejected suitor; Tom Buchanan, the partner about to lose a fortune if Paris actually left the business; Jordan Baker, the suitor rejected by the woman who was dragging herself to the Count's feet; Romeo Montecchio, my former pimp, who, I suppose, was financially damaged by my leaving the Verona; and his former mistress, Rosalina. These days she goes by the 'respectable' name of Myrtle Wilson".

This last revelation shocked everyone present. Especially George Wilson, who immediately stood up in a mixture of fury and horror.

- So that's the orphanage you were working at when I met you? - he shouted, grabbing her by the hair. - Whole!

- Calm down, Mr. Wilson! - asked the detective, while Jordan and Tom tried to pull the man away from his wife.

- Get your hands off me! - Wilson shouted. - I'm going to kill you! You've deceived me all these years!

- No!" stammered Mrs. Wilson, crying.

- "Please, gentlemen, you'd better get Mr. Wilson out of here,"

Holmes suggested to the policemen accompanying him.

- You can't get him out of here! - shouted Tom. - He's a suspect too!

- Not really, Mr. Buchanan. According to Mrs. Gatsby's letter, Wilson was not in this house on the night Paris was murdered. He was only involved in this plot because he married Myrtle. Let him stay outside with the policemen.

- "But he was here the night Joy died," protested Daisy.

- "And none of you saw him leave this room," said Holmes.

- "But that doesn't prove... - Tom began, but was interrupted by Holmes.

- It's better that way, Mr. Buchanan. Because I know that Wilson is innocent.

- "Oh yes, because you claim to know who's guilty," said Tom sarcastically. - "And yet all you've done is throw everyone's sins in our faces... - He glared at Daisy, to which she simply lowered her eyes, annoyed.

- And so far you haven't made any relevant accusations. After all, who killed Joy Gatsby?

- And Count Paris," added Nicole Carraway.

- Let's review the last moments before the discovery of Joy Gatsby's body. The Wilsons came into this room and, according to the testimony of Tebaldo, the butler, George didn't leave. Then Mr. Romeo left the office. In fact, he was the only one to enter that room in the window of time when Joy was killed.

- But she wasn't there," Romeo repeated.

- I believe otherwise. Then Nicole and Jordan came into this room from the garden. Then Daisy came from upstairs. And finally, Tom, from the dining room. What was he doing there, by the way?

- I was having a cigar. That's where Joy kept her cigarette case, on a sideboard.

- It's true," said Nicole. - She said that men always looked for a cigar after dinner, and that it was more convenient to leave them close to the table. And Tom did indeed have a lit cigar when he entered this room.

- "Well," Holmes continued, "some time later, Myrtle left the room to go to the toilet upstairs. And when they realized that Joy was

taking her time, Nicole went upstairs to look for her in her room, while Jordan Baker looked for shade in the garden.

- That's right," confirmed Jordan. - Maybe it was the murderer.

- I'm afraid not, Mr. Baker. When you left this room, Joy Gatsby was already dead, and the murderer had already created his alibi. Whoever you saw was not involved in the case.

Everyone looked at him expectantly.

- As far as we know, Romeo was probably the last person to see Mrs. Gatsby alive.

- Yes, but, I insist: she wasn't in the office when I came in.

- "Actually, yes, I was," said Holmes. - During my investigations, I visited this house several times. I've been puzzling over this curious detail: how could a woman have been murdered inside a locked room, whose only entrance was guarded by seven people, without herself or anyone else being seen entering; and this, after a person allegedly searched for her inside and found that there was no one in that room? In my opinion, there were two possible explanations: Romeo had lied about her not being in there, and he had killed her himself, which I know isn't true; or, more imaginatively but more likely, there was another entrance to the office.

- Of course! - Jordan exclaimed. - The window!

- I'm talking about a way into the house. One that would allow the murderer to enter and leave the office without being seen, and which could also guarantee him an irrefutable alibi, since he would have been seen coming from another direction, completely opposite; no one ever saw him approach the office that night. The former owner of this house, Count Paris, who, coincidentally, had his throat slit five years ago in that very office, during a party, was smuggling illegal whiskey, along with Mr. Buchanan. And in a house of this size, it seemed perfectly possible, and probable, that there were hiding places to store these drinks. A secret cellar, the entrance to which would be very well camouflaged somewhere in the house.

"I paced up and down the office," Holmes continued, "trying to imagine where the entrance to this secret cellar might be. In time, I began to count my steps. From one wall to the other, I took eight steps inside the office. I then walked outside, from the corner of the wall where the office meets this drawing room, towards the dining room. Ten steps. Why could I take two extra steps outside the room? One of the walls was almost a meter thick. Why was that? Because it hides a secret corridor!

"I thoroughly searched the bookshelves on both sides of the room until I found the device that allowed me to open the passage hidden behind one of them. That's why Romeo didn't find Joy Gatsby inside the office, even though he had seen her enter a moment before. When you went in after her, she had already disappeared through the secret passage."

- But she wasn't killed in that passage," said Nicole. - Why would she go in there?

- "To see in advance who would meet him through that passage," said Holmes. - The corridor led to a staircase dimly lit by a lamp in the secret cellar in the basement. From above, Joy could see who was coming up the stairs, but the person might not be able to see her in the shadows.

"During the party, Joy must have hinted that she intended to reveal some sordid secret from each of your pasts tonight. She may even have mentioned a crime. A bait thrown to the killer so that he would be in a hurry to silence her before the meeting.

"Romeo Montecchio had no reason to want to kill Joy, nor did Paris. During the time that the lady was living in her house, the Count continued to pay her pimp a good money to maintain its exclusivity without being disturbed. For Romeo it made no difference to have Juliet in the brothel or in the Count's mansion; his share of the payment was assured.

"That's how I know you didn't kill Joy. You, Nicole Carraway and George Wilson were the only ones who told me the whole truth in their statements because they had nothing to hide. The person who killed her came and went through the secret passageway of the office, and he walked through the maze of passages and stairs in this house to make it look like he was coming from another direction.

"The staircase at the end of the secret passage leads to the cellar in the basement, and there is another staircase, which communicates with the kitchen pantry through a hatch hidden by a barrel. The person would only have to take care not to be seen by the few employees who were in charge of cleaning the bowls and other utensils used at the party, sneak out of the kitchen and use the service ladder to get upstairs, from where you could perfectly tell that you were using the toilet".

- Oh, my God! - exclaimed Nicole, realizing where the detective was going.

- Romeo would not have to know the secret passages of the house; but another person, who used to visit it often in the past, could easily have known about them.

- Tom Buchanan! - Jordan deduced. - As a partner in Paris' illegal liquor business, you should know these passages, and the secret cellar.

- But I didn't kill Joy! - freaked out Tom.

— I know that - said Holmes. - When I first walked into the office, I noticed a curious combination of objects in the sideboard next to the canapé where Joy was found dead. There was a golf ball, a bottle of whiskey, a rose, a garter, and a flower pot tumbled to the ground. I kept imagining Joy Gatsby, planning this trap for years. She knew the danger that ran with this charade. The killer would be tempted to attack her. Especially when he realized that she had gathered them together to force a confession. She needed to take precautions to ensure that the truth was revealed, even if she wasn't here to tell us. That's why you wrote me this letter. So he hid in the passageway with the office in the dark. So he gathered these five objects and left them at hand, so they could tell us who the killer was. We have in this room a professional golfer, Jordan Baker, and a golf ball; a whiskey smuggler, Tom Buchanan, and a bottle of the drink; a woman who used to use the name Rosalina, Myrtle Wilson, and a rose; a man who earns his living by exploiting women's bodies, Romeo Montecchio, and a garter. These four objects were arranged on the sideboard in perfect order. Only one was thrown to the ground. I imagine she made it look like an unintentional blow, an accident that knocked over the flower pot. And what were the flowers in that vase?

- Daisies! - exclaimed Nicole, covering her mouth in horror.

- Daisy! - exclaimed Jordan, perplexed.Mrs. Buchanan slowly stood up.

- I can't believe I didn't see the flowers, even in the dim light... - she muttered, giving an affected and tired smile. - Paris should have been mine. That slut, with her experience as a whore, kept him intoxicated. He liked me in bed, but deep down, I was just that to him: another conquest; another whore in his bed.

- Is that why you killed him? - Tom asked, horrified.

- Don't be silly, darling! - said Daisy reassuringly. - Why would I kill the golden goose? I had to get that slut out of my way. When I entered the office, it was dark; only the lamp on the desk was on, and there was a person leaning in front of it. I thought it was that bastard! It was only after I cut her throat that I realized it was the Count. Now she wanted to confront us. She wanted one of us to confess to the murder of Paris. I couldn't let her destroy my life once again.

- But she didn't destroy you," said Tom. - You did very well by marrying me.

Daisy shrugged.

–It was a stroke of luck. And deep down, she deserved it. They both deserved it. I was passed over for a prostitute!

Nicole Carraway crossed the room in a flash and slapped Daisy hard across the face.

- That whore was much more worthy than you, or anyone else in this room. Enjoy the arrest!

The policemen handcuffed Mrs. Buchanan and took her to the car.

- Do you know what I regret most, Ms. Carraway? Not being able to save that woman. I didn't know her personally, but everything I've learned about Joy Gatsby in recent weeks tells me that she was an extraordinary woman, of impeccable character, charismatic and captivating. And above all, she possessed a dignity and loyalty that you rarely see in even the most virtuous people.

- "She was all that, Mr. Holmes, and much more," Nicole confirmed.

- It's a shame it ended like this. The world isn't ready to welcome the most wonderful people.

- But she will be remembered, by those who really matter. The great Mrs. Gatsby.

- The wonderful Mrs. Gatsby!

The End