Nothing scares people like a polite room and a motive. by Agatha Christie

Agatha, your polite rooms have more tension than my crime scenes.

Arthur, because I let the tea lie before the suspect does.

A room gets interesting the moment civility starts sweating.

Jane, you call it civility. I call it everybody hiding evidence behind manners.

Evidence? Please. Half of society is motive wearing gloves.

Exactly. Give me a parlor, three compliments, and one inheritance nobody wants to discuss.

That sounds less like dinner and more like an arrest waiting for dessert.

Both of you are arguing like a footnote got promoted too fast.

The menu was never the mystery. It was who smiled while ordering it.