Kenneth Marsh is an eccentric traveller, writer, critic and dilettante whose frequent dinner parties are the talk of the town. Avaricious socialites shamelessly pursue invitations to these cosmopolitan events. Guests come from all social backgrounds and are chosen by Marsh for their idiosyncrasies and entertainment potential. Madonna Scarlatti, a stage actress, and Samuel Waldeberg, a would-be movie star, are among the guests this evening.
After a starter of superb herb and garlic pate, the main course appears, an ‘unusual fish dish’. The guests joke nervously, hoping that it is not calamari; a previous guest had an attack upon learning that she had eaten sauteed baby octopus. “One simply couldn’t live with the thought of eating tentacles!”
Marsh tucks in and everyone slowly follows his example. The main course is excellent. A rich chocolate and coffee pudding is the sweet, to be followed by coffee, brandy and cigars. Marsh, a radical, does not expect the ladies to retire whilst the men smoke.
Conversation turns to the host’s recent travels. Marsh returned recently from the Orient with, amongst other curios, a number of live specimens of a rare genus of venomous catfish. Marsh maintains extensive salt and freshwater aquaria. These catfish have bred extensively in the last few months; the guests have just eaten a few of them.
The Lung-Hung catfish are found only in the precincts of a Cantonese temple to a many-armed female ‘Bhudda’, referred to as The Bloated Woman. The fish are considered sacred as, reputedly, they can heal dermatitis sufferers who bathe in their pool. Marsh does not elaborate on how he obtained live specimens although there was a Reuters article on a riot in Shanghai a few months ago.
Suddenly, Marsh begins to choke. His eyes bulge, he turns purple, and he slumps face-down into his coffee.
Possibilities
1 The cook, Jules Severin, didn’t know how to prepare the fish. He sought the advice of a kindly yellow-robed Chinese herbalist monk who was collecting donations door-to-door. The monk’s recipe deliberately didn’t account for the poison sacs within the fish. Marsh sampled the dish yesterday and ate it again tonight. He has died first. Within 24 hours, all the guests will be dead.
Marsh has an extensive collection of journals in which he relates the tales of the Lung-Hung Catfish as learned from a ‘flower girl’ in Shanghai. There is a small temple in Chinatown, guarded closely by the Order of The Bloated Woman. The monks know of the antidote. It only remains for someone to fetch it in time.
2 Shelby the butler checks Marsh and declares him alive. Then Waldeberg collapses theatrically to the floor with severe cramps; he daringly had two helpings of the main course.
In normal humans the catfish venom causes cramps and fever which may kill those with a weak constitution. On Deep One hybrids the venom speeds the transformation process dramatically. The catfish can feed on dead flesh of humans, and are kept specifically for useon the moulting flesh of such hybrids. This is the background to the tales concerning their healing properties.
Marsh, unknowingly, can trace his family history to Innsmouth. He is in a coma from which he will awake in a few days, a good way through the transformation to a Deep One. Grinning Orientals hide in the bushes outside the window. They await the incapacitation of the guests. They will take Marsh to his true people and kidnap then sacrifice the defilers of the sacred fish.
3 Marsh was poisoned by Madonna Scarlatti, who sits to his left. She used an antique Italian poison ring to slip a lethal dose of cyanide into his dessert.
Marsh and Scarlatti are ex-lovers. He savaged her recent appearance as Lady Macbeth but invited her as a way of apologising for being too harsh. Hell hath no fury...
© Peter Devlin
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