Allison stares back. “This is why police interrogate people separately. So they can find out what people actually know without spoiling it.”

“You suddenly know so much about police procedure?”

“It’s common sense,” Allison says. “But if we must play this stupid game, then we’re better off filling in the motive boxes. Because we all had the opportunity.”

“Not all of us,” Connor says. “You were the one who stayed back on the boat. You had plenty of time to put poison in that bottle.”

“I didn’t even know there was a bottle.”

“Easy enough to say that now.”

“It was your girlfriend who gave out the glasses.”

“I did that in front of everyone,” Isabella says. “You all saw me.”

“Well, I didn’t touch the glasses. And if it was in the bottle, then we’d all be dead, wouldn’t we?”

“You didn’t drink any, I noticed,” Connor says. “And we wouldn’t all be rich if I died.”

He walks to the board and takes the pen from Isabella’s hand. He turns his back on us and starts to write. When he’s done, the board looks like this:




Eleanor



Connor



Oliver



Harper



Guy