Time for assassins

"Success is a strange thing. You see, tonight marks my triumphant return to England. All London's top brass will be there, but there will be one big absentee. Me, Philip Somerset.

You won’t see me, because tonight I’m going to die. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m not happy about that! On the contrary… It was such a lovely evening, I was surrounded by dear friends: Katherin my beloved sister, Hartford my right-hand man, Bram Stoker the theatre director, George Bernard Shaw the playwright, Miss Lime my assistant, Arthur Conan Doyle the famous novelist. Yet my murderer must be among them.

So who? Who murdered me? What if it’s just my time?”