The Dinner Party — Overview

Pitch

It is the summer of 1937, and the world is on fire. The Hindenburg has fallen. A king has abdicated for the woman he loves. The whales are being quietly rescued in Seville. And a very famous aviator is about to take off from New Guinea for the longest flight of her life.

Six people share one dinner table, three courses, and a radio broadcasting from the corner. Some of them are murderers. Most of them are in love with someone they shouldn't be. All of them are lying about at least one thing.

For the host

• Required: 6 players (including you; you'll play Thomas, the radio host).
• Runtime: 2.5–3 hours, plus 20 minutes on either side for arrivals and the final debrief.
• Meal: Three courses map one-to-one onto the three acts — appetizers, entrée, dessert.
• Read order before the party: this overview → timeline → host guide → rules → answer key → Thomas's narration. The character files you never need to read.

The cast

Every character is based on a real figure from 1937. Part of the game is uncovering who. The host packet's answer key tells you everything; guests should find out on their own.

The shape of the night

1. Before arrivals — envelopes on the table, one per guest, each stuffed with four sealed sections (Intro + Act 1 + Act 2 + Act 3). A stack of play money at each seat.
2. Arrivals — cocktails, period music, no character talk yet.
3. Intro — Thomas's radio broadcast sets the Hindenburg in motion. Guests open Intros, read silently.
4. Act 1 — Appetizers. Eddie & Bessie's engagement party. 30ish minutes of mingling.
5. Act 2 — Entrée. The Whaling Agreement. Seated at the table now; secrets are harder to keep.
6. Act 3 — Dessert. Emilia's takeoff. Someone dies. The ghost hunts her killer.
7. Conclusion. The host reads the reveal aloud — character by character. Applause, not scorecards. Three capstone prizes, then a one-line title for every guest.

What the host needs

• Host packet (this file bundle, printed).
• 5 printed player packets, each in a labeled envelope.
• Printed props (telegrams, newspapers). Optional: a Final Ballot per guest for the Star of the Show vote.
• $20 in $1/$5 play money per guest + a $30 bank for Thomas.
• Music playlist (see host guide).
• Three courses.
• A sense of old-timey radio theater, and the willingness to loudly say "the fleet's lit up."

Timeline — Real & In-Fiction

The game layers a fictional chain of murders onto a very real three months. Real-world events anchor the story; fictional beats thread through the gaps.

The locked chronology

Why these dates, in this order

The premise: a dead king-in-waiting and a famous aviator and a drunken Navy officer all find themselves in each other's orbit in the spring of 1937. Three public events give the party a rhythm — a disaster, a wedding, a takeoff — and Thomas the reporter is there for all three because that's what reporters do. Thomas also murders people between them, but who's counting.

The Saucy Soiree (back-story all players share)

A rowdy cabaret night at Small's Paradise in Harlem, hosted by Eddie and Bessie. Off-stage but referenced constantly:

• Bessie leaves a back room with smudged lipstick. Who she was with is the unresolved puzzle of the night — the acrobat bartender is absent from this dinner; detectives will have to argue about it without a confirmatory witness.
• Emilia and George have their own tryst in a different back room. By Act 1 they are invited-as-a-couple.
• Spencer, drunk and uninvited, crashes the party. Befriends Eddie over Navy talk and whales. Sees the lipstick on Bessie and mis-identifies the culprit as Emilia.
• Spencer, using his Navy aviator credentials, later walks onto the Lakehurst tarmac himself. Slides a small wrapped package into Emilia's privileged luggage bay. No accomplice, no witnesses — just a drunk man with a uniform and a grudge.

Everyone has hazy memories of the Soiree. That haziness is load-bearing: it's the reason the truth has to be assembled rather than simply confessed.

Things Thomas will namedrop on air

• Hindenburg — "the worst disaster in aviation history, the Titanic of the skies."
• Edward's abdication — not referenced directly; it's the scandal that makes Eddie & Bessie's engagement contentious. Abdication was December 1936; the marriage at Château de Candé was June 3, 1937.
• Thomas's own "fleet's lit up" broadcast — May 20, 1937, the Royal Navy review at Spithead. Thomas was visibly drunk on air. It is the most famous thing he has ever done.
• Golden Gate Bridge — opened May 27, referenced in Act 3 because Emilia's flight ends in San Francisco Bay.
• The automatic transmission — June 1, a bit of period color; drop it from narration if you forget.
• The Whaling Agreement — June 8. The centerpiece of Act 2.

Host Guide

Run-of-show at a glance

Players tonight: 6 (you + 5 guests). Josephine is absent — narrate that "the acrobat is ill this evening." Spencer planted the Hindenburg bomb in person. Cast: Bessie, Eddie, Emilia, George, Spencer. You play Thomas. End-of-act beats:

• Act 1 close — Spencer's slip. Same as baseline: *"I was just there…"*
• Act 2 close — The wrong bag. Thomas slides the dawn photograph across to Eddie, framed as "a reporter's tip I thought you should see."
• Act 3 open — Breaking news.

Hush-money ledger (this config):

• Act 1 — Bessie pays George $5.
• Act 3 — George routes $15+$35 to Thomas (via bribes).

(Josephine's Act 2 obligations all evaporate with her absence; roll her cash quota into Thomas's cut.)

Who you are

You are the host. You are also Thomas Woodroffe — BBC reporter, habitually drunk, a little unprofessional. You will narrate three acts in an old-timey radio voice. You will sell clues for cash. And at the very end of the night it turns out you were in on one of the murders.

Read the answer key before the party. Read Thomas's narration before the party. The character files — you never need to read.

Setup checklist

Three days before

• Print the host packet (this bundle). Put it in a folder you can flip through, not hide.
• Print the five player packets. Put each one in a large envelope labeled with the character name. Inside the envelope the packet is further divided into four sections (Intro, Act 1, Act 2, Act 3) each in its own small envelope.
• Print the props (props.pdf). Cut out the telegrams and newspaper headers.
• Assemble the photograph prop for Act 2: find an actual moody black-and-white photo of a woman in a dressing gown leaving a door. You (Thomas) keep it in your jacket pocket and slide it to Eddie in Act 2 as "a reporter's tip."
• Decide your casting. Bessie needs charisma, Spencer needs ability to act drunk without really drinking, Emilia needs poise for the ghost act.
• Send a cryptic save-the-date: "A dinner party. Wear something from 1937. You will be asked to lie."

Day of

• 3 hours before: shop for ingredients, chill the champagne.
• 2 hours before: cook. Playlist on low.
• 90 min before: set the table. One envelope per seat. One stack of play money per seat ($20 in $1/$5 bills — five $1s and three $5s). Pencil, water glass, name card. (Optional: a Final Ballot at each seat, for the Star of the Show vote.)
• 60 min before: put the Hindenburg newspaper prop at the host's seat. Put telegrams in their assigned envelopes (the answer key lists which telegrams go in which act).
• 30 min before: change. Put on your radio-host hat. Practice "the fleet's lit up" in a few different inflections.

When guests arrive (0:00–0:20)

• Cocktails, music, no character talk. Introduce guests to each other by their real names. Hand each guest their envelope as they sit down but instruct them not to open.
• When all guests are seated, call the room to order. You are now Thomas.

Run-of-show (minute-by-minute)

Times are approximate. The whole thing fits in 2.5–3 hours.

Food & drink

Hindenburg-era, heavy on theatrics.

• Appetizer (Act 1, London): deviled eggs or cucumber sandwiches, a smoked-salmon crostini. Pair with Champagne, or a gin rickey.
• Entrée (Act 2, Seville): paella, or a Spanish tortilla with chorizo. Pair with a dry sherry or a tempranillo.
• Dessert (Act 3, New Guinea): tropical — pineapple upside-down cake, coconut macaroons, or a flaming rum banana. Pair with coffee and a cocktail with rum in it so Spencer has something to drink.

Keep water glasses full. Guests will forget if you don't refill them.

Music

Make one ~2.5-hour playlist. Drop it in the background. Loud enough to hear, quiet enough to bribe over. Some good 1937 tracks:

• Act 1 — British jazz: Ambrose Orchestra; Jack Hylton; Ray Noble.
• Act 2 — Spanish flamenco + tango: Carlos Gardel; Manuel de Falla; some guitar.
• Act 3 — American swing: Benny Goodman's "Sing Sing Sing" (1937); Billie Holiday; Duke Ellington.

For the radio broadcasts, cue an actual old-radio static effect over a Bluetooth speaker if you want to go the extra mile. YouTube has 10-hour loops of 1930s radio static.

Playing Thomas (you)

You have two jobs: narrator and character. Both benefit from leaning in.

Lean into the drunk

The more unreliable you seem, the more players will second-guess every clue they buy from you. It adds the delicious layer of "is he telling me the truth, or just taking my $5?" That's the whole point. Thomas's real-life namesake got himself relieved of a microphone mid-broadcast; honor that legacy.

Use the $2 directional clue as a rudder

When a detective is circling the wrong character, steer them with a cheap directional clue. Pre-written ones are in the answer key; feel free to improvise. Examples:

• "Follow the fuel, not the crown." — when they're stuck on Eddie.
• "Look at who had singed eyebrows in May." — when they're ignoring the Hindenburg.
• "Adultery isn't murder. Keep looking." — when they're pointing at Bessie.
• *"The reporter is always on the scene. Ask why he's this on the scene."* — when they're ignoring you.

Make the reveal a mic drop

At the very end, when you reveal your own hand in Emilia's death, don't just read the line. Own it. A good template:

"George had the motive. But George doesn't know a fuel line from a hemline. George had a pen. I had a wrench."

Pause. Let the table boo. You earned it.

Troubleshooting

A detective is stuck and won't bribe you. Slide a $2 bill back to them across the table. "On the house. Look into who left Small's with lipstick."

Two detectives want the same clue. Sell it to both. They don't know you're double-dipping.

Spencer won't deliver his slip. His slip is the detectives' main handle on the Hindenburg plot — don't let it get skipped. Three levels of escalation:

1. In character on the air, press him: "Spencer, you're looking a bit singed, old chap — was the New Jersey sun particularly harsh this May?"
2. If he still deflects, narrate past him: "Folks, our American Navy captain has gone rather quiet. Reporters note his eyebrows appear… slightly abbreviated."
3. If that fails, pull him aside during the course change and tell him the exact line. He delivers it when the table reconvenes.

Emilia (ghost) keeps spoiling things. Remind her publicly, in character, that ghosts whisper. Privately tell her the ghost rules are her whole act tonight — breaking them empties the big reveal moment when she opens her sealed accusation.

Act 2 has a "silent table" risk. Everyone's seated, eating, and the whispered-bribe vibe can peter into silence. Be a chaos agent:

• Spill a minor secret for free every ~10 minutes. "Folks, I'm told George was overheard on the hotel phone with someone in New Guinea. At three in the morning."
• Put a public question to the quietest guest. "Emilia, darling — are your flight plans really all decided, or is George still meddling?"
• Float an invoice. "Does anyone owe anyone else money? Thomas takes ten percent commission on settlement." You don't, but it gets money moving again.

The table is quiet (any act). Narrate. "Folks, I'm getting reports from the wire that someone at this table spent last night phoning New Guinea. Reporters want answers." Every head swivels; George sweats.

Nobody is solving the mystery. Near the end of Act 3, sell the biggest clues for free. "Detectives, at this late hour, one last scoop at no charge…" Err on the side of over-cluing rather than nobody guessing.

Someone correctly solves the whole mystery in Act 1. Congratulate them privately. Ask them to help everyone else without revealing what they know — and tell them they're the frontrunner for Detective of the Night as long as they don't dump the answer. Their enjoyment comes from watching the reveal with a quiet grin.

A guest didn't show up. You're already on a 5-guest configuration; a further drop breaks the plot. Options: press-gang someone at the last minute to play the vacant role, or (last resort) convert the vacant character into "a call from New York" whose alibi is alluded to but who is never on stage. Do not drop more than one character from a 6-player build.

After the party

• Post the titles to a group chat, one per guest. They will be re-read for years.
• Promote the winners — Socialite of 1937, Detective of the Night, Star of the Show — with a single photo or group selfie.
• Keep everyone's play money in a jar. Use it again.

Rules

The game has three layers stacked on top of each other:

1. A whodunit. Who caused the Hindenburg to explode, who killed Emilia, and why.
2. A confidence game. Guests have cash. Cash buys secrets. The richest guest at the end is crowned Socialite of 1937.
3. A costume drama. Each character has signature phrases and a closely-guarded history. Lean into both.

There is no scorecard. No tally. The night ends with a narrative reveal, three capstone prizes, and a one-line title for every guest. See How the night ends, below.

Acts

Three acts match three courses.

• Act 1 — Appetizers. Engagement party. Free mingling — move around the room, use side rooms, cut private deals. Runtime: ~30 min.
• Act 2 — Entrée. Whaling Agreement. Everyone seated at the table. Secrets leak more easily; bribes happen in whispers. Runtime: ~30 min.
• Act 3 — Dessert. Emilia's takeoff. A mix: seated for the announcement, then free-moving again after the radio break. The ghost appears. Runtime: ~30 min, plus Conclusion.

Each act opens with Thomas's narration (the host reads aloud). Each act closes with a scripted end-of-act beat — a small spectacle that gives detectives something fresh to chew on.

Bribery (cash economy)

Each guest starts with $20 play money: a mix of $1 and $5 bills. Thomas (host) holds a $30 bank.

• Thomas sells clues. $2 for a directional hint ("look into who stayed late at Small's"). $5 for a specific fact ("Spencer had singed eyebrows on May 7"). The answer key lists what Thomas can sell per act.
• Guests bribe guests. Open market. Typical: $3 for a soft truth, $5 for something juicy. Nothing stops a guest from lying, but if you catch a lie you may demand your money back in public.
• Hush-money side quests. Some character sheets include payout obligations (e.g., "pay George $5 for silence"). Thomas settles these at the end of each act — offending parties pay up, or their character is publicly shamed in narration.
• Socialite of 1937. Whoever has the most cash on the table at the end of Act 3 wins the night's second capstone. Play accordingly.

Keep a ledger if you like; most hosts find the table self-polices because everyone is counting their own pile.

Catchphrases

Each character has a signature phrase. It's a running joke and a callback — nothing is scored on it, but Thomas will quote every one of them during the reveal, so lean in hard.

Some of these phrases are common enough that they'll blow past listeners if said plainly. That's why each phrase comes with a delivery tic — a physical cue that marks the phrase as the catchphrase, not incidental dialogue. Players should lean into the tic; it's the kind of thing the table remembers for years.

Characters should drop their phrase at least once per act, with the tic. Thomas uses his during narration, drunkenly, at least once per act.

The ghost (Emilia in Act 3)

When Thomas announces Emilia's disappearance mid-Act 3, Emilia's player:

• Dons a white sash or draped cloth. Continues to participate.
• Cannot handle cash. Cannot be bribed, cannot pay.
• May whisper one observation per mingling round to one living player — something Emilia saw in her life that she hasn't shared yet.
• Before the Conclusion, privately submits a sealed accusation to Thomas: "I know who killed me." Thomas reads it aloud during the reveal. If she's right, it's a hell of a moment.

The point of the ghost is to keep the player in the game and to give Emilia a reason to apply everything she's learned. Emilia is allowed to be dramatic.

End-of-act beats

Act 1 — Spencer's slip. Late in the act, Spencer (drunk) publicly says: *"Rotten luck — I was just there…"* and trails off. Players will ask where. Spencer stalls. This is a scripted moment; Spencer's player is told to make it.

Act 2 — The reporter's tip. Partway through seated mingling, Thomas slides the dawn photograph of Bessie across the table to Eddie, framed as "a reporter's tip I thought you should have." Several players see Eddie read the implication. The photograph stays on the table.

Act 3 — The ghost appears. When Thomas reads the breaking-news bulletin, Emilia's player stands, dons the sash, and is now dead. She remains in the scene.

How the night ends

The Conclusion is a show, not a test. Thomas drives the whole thing from the head of the table; everyone else listens, applauds, and ribs each other. No scorecards, no tally, no math.

1. The narrative reveal

Thomas reads the reveal aloud, character by character — who they really were, what they really did, who they were really sleeping with. See conclusion/reveal.md.

After each character, pause. Let the table boo, gasp, accuse, roast. The applause (or the groan) is the point. If a detective called a beat correctly during the night, now is the moment to crow about it — Thomas can even hand the floor: "Who had this one? Stand up, brag."

2. Three capstone prizes

At the end of the reveal, Thomas awards three prizes. Real prizes — a bottle of wine, a trinket, a pin, bragging rights in a group text. Pick what fits the room.

• Detective of the Night. Host's pick. The guest who asked the sharpest questions, put the truest motive on the table, and didn't shout the answer too early. If it was close, call a tie — two bottles.
• Socialite of 1937. Automatic. Whoever has the most cash on the table. Count it in front of the room. No tiebreaker necessary; a tie means they each brought game.
• Star of the Show. Table vote. A thirty-second round of applause-meter, or quick written ballots. Awarded for the most committed performance — the funniest accent, the most unhinged monologue, the player who became their character.

3. A title for everyone

This is the night's secret best beat. Thomas goes around the table — every single guest — and gives each a one-line title to take home. Titles are extemporaneous, rhythmic, and affectionate (never cutting). Think:

• "The Doomed Romantic."
• "The Cheapest Bribe in Seville."
• "The Woman Who Kept Her Lipstick On."
• "The Reporter Who Kept Asking."
• "The Only Honest Man at the Table (and It Didn't Help Him)."

Everyone goes home with one. See the answer key (host/04-answer-key.md) for a list of sample titles tuned to each character, plus guidance on improvising good ones.

Rules everyone is told up front

• You may lie about anything you know. You may not lie about things you've literally said tonight (that's lawyering; it kills the game).
• Read your envelopes in private. Do not show your sheets to anyone.
• You can buy and sell information. You can also give it away for free, to people you trust.
• If two guests have contradictory information, they may hold the halves of the same secret. Talk to each other.
• Thomas is the referee and a character. When in doubt, ask Thomas. Thomas may charge you.

Thomas's Narration Script

Read aloud in the voice of a 1937 BBC radio announcer — clipped consonants, long vowels, unearned gravitas. When your script tells you to be drunk, slur a little. Your catchphrase is "the fleet's lit up." Deploy it at least once per act.

Intro — the Hindenburg (read on arrival)

[Radio static. Stand. Clear your throat. Loud.]

Boom. Crash. Kapow. The sounds of mayhem were deafening to all those near and far. They're calling it the worst disaster in aviation history — the Titanic of the skies. What was to usher in a new era of trans-Atlantic flight has instead resulted in the death of three dozen people. I would normally bring you a survivor's interview — but our planned guest, an acrobat who walked away from the fire, is indisposed this evening. We send our well wishes, wherever she is.

Astounding. Absolutely astounding. Folks, it is a wonder anyone survived at all — a crash so spectacular it lit up the sky, and I wouldn't be surprised if more than the captain were lit up tonight. This has been Thomas Woodroffe, BBC Television Services. Please join us next week, where we will cover the engagement party of dear Eddie and darling Bessie — their first public presence since they and their guests were discovered outside of Small's Paradise Club & Lounge, using only hazy memories to escape explaining themselves.

[Pause. Drop the radio voice. Address the table as host.]

Tonight we'll be solving a mystery in three courses. Appetizer, entrée, dessert. For the appetizer round, you'll mingle freely — learn each other's secrets, sell your own, and find the quiet corners where no one is listening. If something on your sheet is ambiguous, there might be someone else holding the other half of the puzzle. For the dinner round we sit together. Watch what you share. For dessert, you're free again — and this is when you make your accusations. Whoever wants to solve the mystery, go ahead and try. Please open your Intro envelopes. Read in silence. We'll return from this commercial break in five minutes.

[Cue music. 5 minutes pass. Cut music.]

Act 1 — The Engagement Party

[Radio voice.]

Folks, we're tuning in now, live from London. It is the formal engagement party of the Duke of — well, of our dear friend Eddie, and his beloved Bessie. Rumors have been flying for weeks. George Putnam — the publisher, mind you, and our dear friend — has taken the podium. They say he knew about the relationship; rumor has it he wasn't totally approving, so this one's sure to be a doozy. Take it away, George.

[George reads his speech from Act 1 — Bessie and Eddie toast — champagne flutes up.]

[Radio voice, after the speech.]

Well, folks, there you have it. Cheers to the happy couple. For the next half-hour, our broadcast will be visiting the party guests and hearing their experiences with Eddie and Bessie — and whatever else came out of that wild night at Small's Paradise. As for what to do next: try using your cash to bribe information, or be open to being bribed. The guest with the most money at the end of each round receives a prize. If you are lost, don't hesitate to spend some of that money on me — I'll fill you in at bargain rates.

[Cue music. Mingling begins. ~30 minutes.]

End-of-act beat — Spencer's slip

Late in the act, pull Spencer aside or loudly ask him publicly:

Spencer, old boy — you've been quiet all evening. What do you make of this tragedy with the airship?

Spencer responds from his script: *"Rotten luck — I was just there…"* and stops. The room goes quiet. You narrate:

Spencer — what were you saying? Just there? Where, exactly?

If Spencer won't deliver the slip, prompt him in character with the backup question:

Spencer, you're looking a bit singed, old chap — was the New Jersey sun particularly harsh this May?

If he still deflects, narrate past him: "Folks, our American Navy captain has gone rather quiet. Reporters note his eyebrows appear… slightly abbreviated."

Spencer stalls. You let the moment hang, then cut to narration.

Well. Files in the wire, at least. Folks — we're approaching our entrée. Please settle your Act 1 accounts. Those with debts, pay up. Those owed — make sure you get what's yours. Commercial break.

[Collect Bessie's $5 hush money to George. If it hasn't happened, publicly narrate that George "has been seen scribbling in a notebook" — a warning. Cue music. Act 2 begins with the next course.]

Act 2 — The International Agreement for the Regulation of Whaling

[Radio voice.]

Folks, welcome to this historic announcement. Live from Seville. Nine nations have come to an agreement that will curtail the whaling industry to a degree not previously heard of anywhere across the seven seas. Blue, Fin, Humpback, and Sperm whales will all be protected — mothers and calves must be left alone, and only once reaching a maturity of size will any sailor be permitted to receive compensation. No longer will the oceans be harvested for raw tonnage. We can only hope it is enough to revive the whale population that has dwindled in recent years. Please open your Act 2 envelopes. Eddie and his newlywed wife Bess — who you'll remember we broadcast from their engagement party just weeks ago — have been seen as the grease behind the wheels that steered these governments to stop playing harpoon and to start playing ball. Let's hear what they have to say.

[Eddie and Bessie deliver their speech from Act 2 — lovesick, a little gross, five days married, Eddie fussy with agitation, Bess smoldering at being on stage during her honeymoon.]

[Radio voice.]

Thank you, friends. Stay tuned for more coverage of the Whaling Agreement, live from Hotel Alfonso. Reporters, if you have questions — and you should — I will be at the bar. I always am. The fleet, I might add, is lit up.

[Music. Seated mingling for ~30 min.]

End-of-act beat — The reporter's tip

About 25 minutes in, lean across the table to Eddie — reporter-to-gentleman, with a discreet air. Slide a folded black-and-white photograph across to him.

Thomas: "Eddie, old boy — I shouldn't be showing you this. Reporter's tip. Thought you should have it before one of the other papers does."

Eddie unfolds it. It's Bessie in a dressing gown, leaving a hotel room door at dawn. Eddie reads the implication. Several other players see him read it. The photograph stays on the table, face up. Your job now is to look theatrically regretful — the reluctant muckraker.

[Radio voice, after a beat.]

Well. I believe our entrée is concluded. Detectives — please settle your Act 2 ledgers. Those with hush money to pay, pay. Those collecting, collect. We return after a short commercial break. Dessert will be served.

[Thin act for settlements — no Josephine obligations to settle. Just confirm Act 1's Bessie→George $5 has moved. If the table's quiet, narrate: "Reporters wonder if anyone at this table owes anyone else a story."]

Act 3 — Takeoff

[Radio voice.]

Folks, thanks for tuning in to BBC Television News. We are live from Lae, New Guinea, at the departure of America's aviation sweetheart as she attempts to circumnavigate the globe using only her aeroplane. She began her trip from Oakland, California, putting the brand-new Golden Gate Bridge in her rearview mirror, and now a month later she hopes to set her sights on it once again. She has crossed the globe — from New Orleans to Miami, from Brazil to Senegal, to the far-away lands of British India and the Dutch Indies — landing, oh, just now, here in New Guinea. Spectators far and wide have come to wish her well as she embarks on the great Pacific with one final stop in Honolulu before landing in the beautiful San Francisco Bay.

[Turn to Spencer.]

You there, good sir. What has brought you all the way to New Guinea to see Emilia off?

[Spencer reads from his Act 3 script — briefly, excitedly.]

Fascinating, dear chap, fascinating. But I should probably cut you off there. Splendid timing for you, to be down in New Guinea — and I'll say, this audience is certainly lit up with the excitement of what's to come. Dear boy, how about you and I grab us a drink as we turn to hear from the illustrious lady herself.

[Emilia takes the microphone. Reads her bravado speech from Act 3.]

Please open your Act 3 envelopes.

[Music. Free mingling. ~15 minutes.]

End-of-act beat — The breaking news

At ~15 minutes into mingling, cut the music. Radio static.

[Radio voice. Slightly slurred. You've had a drink.]

Folks — I'm getting reports now, and I can hardly believe them. We are receiving reports that no one has been in radio contact with Emilia for the last sixty hours. Authorities are fearing the worst. Shortly before crossing the International Dateline, somewhere near Howland Island, last contact was made — and at the time she was still reporting on her planned course. Search and Rescue teams are being assembled. No sightings of any aircraft. No word from Emilia, or her navigator. Detectives — we are beginning to produce suspects. Emilia — dear — it appears you've … passed. Fortunately, in our mystery, we permit a certain poetic liberty. Please put on your sash.

[Emilia's player stands, dons the white sash, becomes the ghost. Remains in scene.]

Detectives, please prepare your reports. You have fifteen minutes to finalize your conclusions. Use them well. Use them loudly.

[Mingling resumes. Ghost whispers begin. ~15 minutes.]

Conclusion

[Cut music. Radio voice, solemn.]

Folks — we are now receiving reports from detectives in the field. The time has come. Last chance to cast your Star of the Show vote — slip it to me, or shout it out when I call for applause.

[Collect ballots if you're using them, and collect the ghost's sealed accusation. Pause. Take a breath. The reveal is the next document — conclusion/reveal.md — read it aloud.]

The Reveal

Read aloud by Thomas. Pause after each character — and this matters: the pause is the point. Let the table boo, gasp, accuse, applaud, and roast each other. No scorecards, no tally, no math. If someone called a beat correctly during the night, Thomas hands them the floor to brag: "Who had this one? Stand up." The applause is how we score; we just don't write it down.

[Radio voice, but warmer — the show is winding down.]

Folks, this has been BBC Television News, live from a dinner party where nothing was what it seemed. Before we sign off, we have a duty to the truth. Let us examine our suspects, one by one.

Bessie

Wallis Simpson — the Duchess of Windsor. In real life, born Bessie Wallis Warfield. Divorced Spencer for his cruelty and "habitual intemperance" in 1927. Married a king who abdicated his throne for her. She is every tabloid of 1937 in one woman. Our Bessie is in love with Eddie, more or less — and there was somebody else, once, back at the Saucy Soiree. We'll never name them tonight; they didn't make it to dinner. She paid hush money to George. She is the only person at this table who did not commit or contract a crime — unless you count fidelity, and you know what, we don't.

Eddie

Edward VIII, the Duke of Windsor. Abdicated the British throne in December 1936 rather than give up Wallis. Married her at Château de Candé in France on June 3, 1937. Real navy captain (Lieutenant, technically, but we've stretched). Spent the rest of his life fretting about his reduced station. Our Eddie spent this night fussing over whales and missing important things happening in his own marriage. He was, genuinely, not a suspect. He simply doesn't know how to look at what he doesn't want to see.

Spencer

Earl Winfield Spencer Jr. — Wallis's first husband. US Navy pilot. Pioneering naval aviator. Publicly blamed for their divorce. A drunk. His third wife would later use the phrase "habitual intemperance" in divorce court, which the New York Times repeated, and which was read in every salon from Baltimore to London. Our Spencer, drunk at Small's Paradise, saw lipstick on his ex-wife's neck and — in a paranoid spiral about his own career — walked onto the Lakehurst tarmac the morning of May 6, using his Navy aviator credentials, and placed the bomb in Emilia's privileged luggage bay himself. No accomplice. Just a uniform, a grudge, and a wrapped package. He was wrong about Emilia. He never knew who Bessie's actual partner at the Soiree had been. He tried to kill a woman who'd done nothing.

George

George Palmer Putnam. Amelia Earhart's publisher, promoter, and second husband. Shaped her public image. Was by some accounts a loving partner and by others a controlling one. Made a lot of money off her fame. Our George paid Thomas — me, your narrator — to tamper with Emilia's plane. He drained the fuel. He rigged the gauge. A martyr sells ten times what a hero sells, and George had already signed the book deal. He thought Emilia had left him for Eddie, which she had not.

Emilia

Amelia Earhart. First woman to fly solo across the Atlantic. Vanished on July 2, 1937, over the Pacific, near Howland Island. Her body was never found. Our Emilia had a tryst with George at Small's Paradise, survived a bomb intended to kill her at the Hindenburg, and was genuinely dedicating her last flight to Eddie out of respect for the whales. She would never know who killed her. Unless, of course, her ghost guessed correctly — and we'll see about that in a moment.

Thomas

And your humble narrator. Thomas Woodroffe, BBC radio announcer, famous for drunkenly slurring "the fleet's lit up" on live air during a 1937 review of the Royal Navy at Spithead. A real man; a very embarrassing broadcast. Our Thomas took George's money and sabotaged Emilia's plane. Your host is a murderer. You paid him for clues. This has been an instructive evening.

[Pause. Let it land. Then the mic drop:]

George had the motive. But George doesn't know a fuel line from a hemline. George had a pen. I had a wrench.

The sealed accusation

[To Emilia.]

Emilia — the sealed envelope, if you please.

[Open it. Read aloud whom she named.]

Ladies and gentlemen — our ghost was [right / wrong].

[Let the applause, or the groan, fill the room. No points. Just the moment.]

The capstones

[Radio voice, warming into showman.]

Three prizes tonight, detectives. Three ways to have won the evening.

Socialite of 1937

First — the Socialite of 1937. The guest who played the cash game hardest, the one who ended the night with the fattest stack. Please, everyone — empty your pockets onto the table.

[Everyone puts their cash out. Count it in front of the room. Name the winner. Award the prize — a bottle, a trinket, something real.]

To [name] — for making a living. A girl, or a gentleman, has to.

Detective of the Night

Second — Detective of the Night. A judgment call, and mine. I watched all of you. I watched who asked the right questions, who named a real motive, who didn't coast on the mingling and didn't dump the answer out loud before the rest of the table could think.

[Name the guest. If it's close, call a tie — award two.]

To [name] — for seeing through the smoke.

Star of the Show

Third — and this one, the table decides. Star of the Show. Most committed performance of the night. The accent, the costume, the refusal to break character. I'll name each of you; the table claps; loudest clap wins.

[Name each guest in turn. Table applauds. Call it.]

To [name] — for becoming someone else, on purpose, in front of witnesses.

Titles — one for every guest

[Radio voice drops. Address the table as host.]

And now, the most important award of the evening. Every single one of you goes home tonight with a title. One line. Take it with you. Put it on your LinkedIn. Don't put it on your LinkedIn.

[Go around the table — every guest, the ghost included. Each title is one line, rhythmic, affectionate, and specific to something they actually did tonight. Extemporaneous is fine. Do not read these off a sheet. See host/04-answer-key.md for samples and the rules of thumb.]

[Examples for inspiration, not recitation:]

• "To Bessie — the Woman Who Kept Her Lipstick On."
• "To Eddie — the Only Honest Man at the Table, and It Didn't Help Him."
• "To Spencer — the Navy Captain Who Brought His Own Matches."
• "To George — the Publisher Who Finally Got His Martyr."
• "To Emilia — the Ghost Who Guessed [Right / Wrong]."
• "To your humble narrator — the Voice of the Fleet, Lit Up."

Signing off

That does it for BBC Television News, reporting from a dinner table in the year of our Lord 1937. Good night. Good luck. And may your own next dinner party have fewer bombs, fewer fraudulent fuel gauges, and — I beg of you — fewer reporters.

[Cut music. Bow.]

Answer Key — Host Eyes Only

This is the full solution. Read it before the game. Reread it halfway through. The host is the only person at the table who knows everything, and your job is to keep the threads visible without tangling them.

The real-life cast

These are the real-life figures behind each character. The more the table surfaces during the night, the juicier the reveal.

The two crimes

Attempted murder — the Hindenburg, May 6

• Murderer (instigator): Spencer.
• Intended target: Emilia.
• Instrument: Spencer himself. There is no acrobat in this configuration.
• Means: A bomb disguised as a smuggling package, placed by Spencer personally in Emilia's privileged luggage bay. Spencer used his Navy aviator credentials to access the Lakehurst tarmac the morning of May 6.
• Outcome: Emilia survived the crash. 36 people died.

Spencer's motive: Career-panic + misdirected jealousy. He is Bessie's ex-husband, drunk, and one promotion short of Commander. At Small's Paradise he saw lipstick on Bessie's neck, overheard Bessie whispering with Emilia, and concluded Emilia was Bessie's lover. His fear: if Bessie becomes Duchess and her affairs surface, his own divorce — publicly blamed on "habitual intemperance" — returns to the papers and he'll never make Commander. Killing Emilia silences the witness and keeps Bessie quiet.

Spencer is wrong about Emilia. Bessie's actual Saucy Soiree partner is not at this table and not on Spencer's mental map. Misidentification stands — Spencer tried to kill a woman who'd done nothing.

Murder — Emilia's flight, July 2

• Murderer (instigator): George.
• Target: Emilia.
• Instrument: Thomas.
• Means: Thomas drained half the fuel from Emilia's plane overnight and rigged the fuel gauge to read full.
• Outcome: Emilia disappears near Howland Island. Presumed dead.

George's motive: Envy + profit. George introduced Emilia to flight fame and is now being eclipsed — she dedicates her round-the-world flight to Eddie in Act 3, which George (wrongly) reads as romantic. He'd already signed a book deal on Amelia's Triumph and knows a martyr outsells a hero ten times over.

Thomas's motive: Straight cash.

The affairs (Saucy Soiree back-story)

• Emilia × George. A tryst that has since escalated to invited-as-a-couple by Act 1. A core subplot.
• Spencer crashes Small's Paradise solo, befriends Eddie over Navy/whaling, sees the lipstick on Bessie's neck, and — without a specific target in mind — spirals into drunken paranoia that Emilia must be the affair partner. This is the trigger for the Hindenburg plot.

Subplots to weave in

1. Emilia × George affair.
2. Spencer at Lakehurst — singed eyebrows, tarmac access, personal hand in the bomb. Witnesses include a ground-crew member who saw a naval officer near Bay 3.
3. George's Act-3 Putnam plot — Thomas drains the fuel for a payoff.
4. The Saucy Soiree lipstick — who Bessie actually left with is never resolved in this config; a red-herring puzzle for detectives to argue about.
5. The photograph prop — who really has the negative, if Josephine never received it. (Answer: Thomas intercepted the telegram.)

Means & opportunity

The mechanics of both crimes — worth surfacing during the reveal so the table can react:

• Hindenburg bomb: Spencer personally walked the tarmac at Lakehurst on May 6 using his Navy aviator credentials and slid a small wrapped package into the privileged baggage bay. No accomplice.
• Earhart plane: fuel gauge tampered and fuel drained. Either alone would have been caught; the pair of sabotages is what killed her. Thomas had grounds access through his reporter credentials.

Detectives who flagged any of the mechanical beats during the night earn a callout — "stand up, brag."

Clues Thomas can sell (by act)

Act 1 (per clue: $2 directional, $5 specific):

• Directional: "Someone at this table was at Small's Paradise bar the night before the Hindenburg."
• Specific: "Bessie left Small's with smudged lipstick. She didn't leave alone."
• Directional: "Spencer is not as sober as he looks."
• Specific: "Spencer had singed eyebrows on May 7. He was nearer Lakehurst than he let on."

Act 2:

• Directional: "Somebody in this room has been making phone calls they shouldn't."
• Specific: "George has been calling New Guinea. Timed to the flight."
• Directional: "The reporter has had a photograph in his pocket all night. Ask why."

Act 3:

• Directional: "One murder plot, two murderers — but one of them has planted bombs before."
• Specific: "Spencer was on the Lakehurst tarmac the morning of May 6. His credentials got him there."
• Directional: "The reporter is always on the scene. Ask why he's this on the scene."
• Specific: "Thomas and George have been talking privately. Follow the money."

Thomas may improvise clues if a detective asks a reasonable question, but should never volunteer the instigators (Spencer, George) for free.

Hush-money obligations (printed in character sheets)

Thomas settles these at each end-of-act.

Host cheat sheet

• When a detective is genuinely lost, sell them a directional clue for $2.
• When two characters are at cross purposes, do not intervene. Let them fight.
• If you suspect Emilia is about to reveal the murder to the table before the Conclusion, gently throttle her. Remind the ghost she whispers one observation per round to one player.
• Both crimes are solo operations — Spencer did the first alone; George and Thomas did the second. No accomplice chain to unravel.
• Spencer's public slip at the end of Act 1 (*"I was just there…"*) should happen whether or not he remembers. Pull him aside during the break if he forgets.

Awards & Titles — host's job at the end

The capstones and titles are what your guests will remember. Prep is small; the payoff is big.

Prizes

Pick three real objects ahead of time. They don't have to be expensive — a bottle of wine, a souvenir from a trip, a silly pin, an old book, a jar of something homemade, a framed playbill. The object being real is what makes the moment real.

Detective of the Night (host's pick)

You've been watching all night. Pick the guest who:

• Named a real motive out loud before the reveal ("I think George wanted to kill her — fame, book deal").
• Asked the sharp questions — the ones that made other players squirm.
• Didn't coast — bought clues, traded information, followed a thread.
• Didn't dump the answer early — showing off while leaving everyone else behind is bad play.

If it's close, call a tie and award two prizes. If no one stood out, award it to whoever had the most fun trying — we care about participation over accuracy.

Socialite of 1937 (automatic — count cash)

Everyone empties their pockets onto the table. Whoever has the most bills wins. Do this in front of the room — part of the fun is the accounting.

If there's a tie, split the prize or give them each a small one.

Star of the Show (table vote)

A thirty-second applause-meter — Thomas names each player, the table claps, loudest applause wins. Or: slips of paper, one name each, fold, count. Either works.

This is almost always awarded to whoever was most committed to their accent, their costume, their posture, their refusal-to-break-character. Voice the criterion out loud: "who was the most themselves, tonight?"

A title for every guest

This is the grand finale. Thomas goes around the table — all six, the ghost included — and names each player with a one-line title they'll carry home. Rules:

• Affectionate, never cutting. You're celebrating the player, not mocking them.
• Rhythmic. Think "The [adjective] [noun]" or "The [noun] Who [did thing]". Keep it short.
• Specific to the night. Reference something they actually did or said. Generic titles feel bad.
• Extemporaneous is fine. Don't script these; feel the room.

Sample titles, one per character archetype (use as inspiration; don't just read these off):

If you host this party more than once, start collecting titles. They get better every time.

Telegrams (Printable Props)

Cut each along the dashed line. Fold. Hand to the appropriate character at the appropriate time. The host's copy of this document tells you when.

Host: Not all telegrams are "in the clear." Some are meant to be left on the table where a curious detective can read them.

Telegram 1 — To Eddie, during Intro

Handed to Eddie by the host after the Hindenburg broadcast. Eddie reads aloud if he wishes.

POST OFFICE TELEGRAMS
URGENT                                       MAY 6 1937

TO:  CAPT E. WINDSOR, LONDON
FROM: HOSPITAL LAKEHURST NEW JERSEY

EMILIA SURVIVED STOP
INJURIES NON LIFE THREATENING STOP
BURNS AND SMOKE INHALATION STOP
WILL CABLE FURTHER ONCE STABLE STOP

--- ---

Telegram 2 — To George, during Intro

Quietly handed to George. He reads in private, pockets it.

POST OFFICE TELEGRAMS
URGENT CONFIDENTIAL                          MAY 7 1937

TO:  G PUTNAM NEW YORK
FROM: REUTERS FIELD OFFICE LAKEHURST

REGARDING PAX MANIFEST STOP
PRIVILEGED LUGGAGE BAY SUSPECTED ORIGIN STOP
INVESTIGATORS REQUESTING DETAILED INTERVIEWS
WITH ALL SURVIVORS STOP
RECOMMEND EMILIA DECLINE PRESS ACCESS
UNTIL LEGAL COUNSEL STOP

--- ---

Telegram 3 — Intercepted, for host discretion

In this configuration, Thomas intercepts this telegram en route to its intended recipient (an absent acrobat) and uses it as his "reporter's tip" to hand Eddie the photograph in Act 2. The telegram itself is not dealt publicly; Thomas may show it privately to any detective who asks after the photograph's origin.

POST OFFICE TELEGRAMS
NO ORIGIN                                    JUNE 8 1937

TO:  [REDIRECTED — INTENDED RECIPIENT UNAVAILABLE]
FROM: UNKNOWN

BESSIE LEFT HER SUITE AT DAWN STOP
CAMERA CAUGHT IT STOP
PHOTOGRAPH ENCLOSED STOP
USE HOW YOU WILL STOP

--- ---

Telegram 4 — To Bessie, during Act 3

Handed to Bessie. She reads silently; expression tells the tale.

POST OFFICE TELEGRAMS
URGENT                                       JULY 2 1937

TO:  B W WARFIELD LAE NEW GUINEA
FROM: HOTEL ALFONSO SEVILLE

MAID FOUND SECOND COPY OF PHOTOGRAPH STOP
IN YOUR VANITY DRAWER STOP
DO YOU WISH IT FORWARDED STOP

--- ---

Telegram 5 — To the table, during Act 3 (breaking news)

Thomas reads aloud.

POST OFFICE TELEGRAMS
URGENT ALL STATIONS                          JULY 4 1937

FROM: U S COAST GUARD CUTTER ITASCA HOWLAND

LAST VOICE CONTACT 0843 HRS STOP
AIRCRAFT REPORTED FUEL LOW STOP
ESTIMATED POSITION ON HEADING STOP
PAST 60 HOURS RADIO SILENT STOP
WIDE SEARCH COMMENCING STOP
PROBABILITY SURVIVAL DECREASING STOP

--- ---

Telegram 6 — Intercepted by Thomas, for host discretion

Thomas may reveal this telegram for $5 during Act 3 to any detective.

POST OFFICE TELEGRAMS
INTERCEPTED                                  JULY 1 1937

TO:  T WOODROFFE BBC NEW GUINEA
FROM: G PUTNAM NEW YORK

SECOND PAYMENT ON ARRIVAL STOP
REMINDER ABOUT FUEL STOP
THIRTY FIVE ADDITIONAL FOR DISCRETION STOP

--- ---

How to print

Print on slightly yellowed paper if you have any. Otherwise print on white and age the edges with a tea bag. Fold in thirds. Insert into small envelopes marked "TELEGRAM" if you have them.

Newspaper Clippings (Printable Props)

Cut out. Tape to the host's radio station, or fold and leave on the dinner table.

The London Gazette — May 7, 1937

ZEPPELIN DISASTER AT LAKEHURST 36 Dead. Survivors Recount "A Sea of Fire."

LAKEHURST, N.J. — The German airship Hindenburg, inbound from Frankfurt, was destroyed in a catastrophic fire while mooring last evening. Of the 97 aboard, 36 are reported dead. Survivors described a sudden rupture at the stern, followed within thirty seconds by a "sea of fire" that consumed the ship.

Among the survivors is the American acrobat Miss J. Spah, who reportedly smashed a porthole with a camera and leapt to the ground. "It was the landing of her career," said an eyewitness.

Notably, Miss Amelia Earhart — referred to in some passenger manifests as simply "E." — has also been confirmed among survivors, sustaining only minor injuries. Her husband, the publisher George P. Putnam, was reached for comment at his office in New York.

The cause of the fire remains under investigation.

The Times — May 21, 1937

"THE FLEET'S LIT UP" — REPORTER RELIEVED OF MICROPHONE

SPITHEAD — BBC radio announcer Thomas Woodroffe, broadcasting the Royal Navy's Coronation Fleet Review, was relieved of his microphone mid-broadcast last evening after an appraisal of his condition. Woodroffe, invited to describe the illuminated ships from the deck of the HMS Victory, was heard repeating the phrase "the fleet's lit up" at irregular intervals.

The BBC declined to comment on Mr. Woodroffe's state. Mr. Woodroffe was not available for interview.

Le Figaro — June 4, 1937

WINDSORS WED AT CHÂTEAU DE CANDÉ

TOURS — The former King Edward VIII, now styled the Duke of Windsor, married Mrs. Wallis Simpson at Château de Candé yesterday afternoon. The ceremony was attended by fewer than twenty guests. No member of the British Royal Family was present.

The Duke is reported to be in good spirits. His Duchess declined to answer questions about her previous marriages.

El Sol — June 9, 1937

NINE NATIONS AGREE TO PROTECT WHALES

SEVILLA — The International Agreement for the Regulation of Whaling, signed yesterday, commits nine nations to limits on the harvest of Blue, Fin, Humpback, and Sperm whales. Mothers and calves are to be protected. A minimum size limit is established. The agreement comes after years of lobbying from the British Admiralty, notably from the recently-retired Capt. E. Windsor, who was in attendance.

Conservationists have praised the agreement as "the most consequential marine treaty of our generation."

The San Francisco Chronicle — July 4, 1937

EARHART MISSING AT SEA Radio Silent 60 Hours. Widest Air-Sea Search in History.

OAKLAND — Amelia Earhart and her navigator are missing somewhere over the Pacific, authorities confirmed today. Last voice contact was made at 08:43 near Howland Island. Coast Guard cutters, Navy aircraft, and civilian volunteers have mounted what is said to be the widest air-sea search in history.

Asked for comment, her husband, publisher George P. Putnam, said: "A story sells itself. Pray for her return."

How to print

Print all five side-by-side, or one per page. Age with tea. Crumple, then flatten. Place around the host's seat for maximum old-timey-radio effect.