Photography: Chris Weisler
Words: Brie Noel Taylor
It’s twilight as I walk through a thick San Francisco fog into the Conservatory of Flowers. Or, it was the Conservatory of Flowers; it has now been transformed into a glass-walled flower conservatory from old England. There are cucumber sandwiches on silver platters lining the walls. Women with scarlet gowns and long peacock-feathered headdresses crowd around tall tables discussing clues in furtive whispers, and a man dressed like a rugged Sherlock Holmes stands, orating, near a large wooden wheel carved with hieroglyphs.
You see, I am at a Murder Mystery Party. Murder at the Conservatory, to be exact.
The evening’s plot revolves around a slain botanist who had discovered the elixir of eternal youth. In the Conservatory’s foyer a mannequin slumps (murdered!) beside a golden goblet filled with a viscous red liquid. The same liquid is smeared near the dummy’s face — it seems, the Sherlock Holmes-ian narrator informs me, that word got out that the victim had discovered the elixir of youth. Someone (assumedly, one of tonight’s characters) heard the news, wanted the potion for themselves, and poisoned our evening’s victim.
We’re informed by the night’s detective that his investigation skills are not top notch, and he needs our help tracking down the killer. And so, the hunt begins.
Now, let me level with you — this is not the kind of event I normally find myself at. I’m more of a book-on-the-couch, coffee-in-a-hip-cafe type of woman. But I’ve been looking to try something new. After living in San Francisco for almost a decade I’ve grown tired of the same recycled events with ultra-hip atmospheres. I’ve been on the hunt for something a little different, something with flair and excitement, where I can lose myself in the thrill of the moment and meet new, exciting people. And so, here I am, solving a staged murder.
As the crowd disperses to begin the investigation, I start to feel apprehensive. Who are these event-goers in elaborate gowns, and will they judge my shaky investigative skills? I’ve been looking for something new to try, but is this too out of my comfort zone? And am I being a party pooper for wearing my regular, modern-day clothes?
Small clusters of novice detectives snake through the Conservatory’s dim-lit wings, finding intricately costumed actors tucked in crevices amongst the plants. I join them, still a little nervous, and come upon my first character (and the first potential perpetrator).
Her name is Gertrude Hall, a woman dressed in soft tweeds and a feathered hat, who stands besides a phonograph playing an eerie, crackling loop of a very British man repeating cryptic clues. The other people at the event aren’t bashful at all — they jump right in, notepad in hand, asking her probing questions: Where is she from? Where did she get the megaphone? What’s her relationship to the deceased? I listen, at first, but eventually gather up the courage to jump in and ask my first question. “Who do you think did it?” I inquire, never one for subtlety. She leans towards me and whispers ominously “I don’t know for sure, but I can tell you this — don’t trust anyone here.” I’m shaken.
Then, there’s Mister Farbank — a tall, handsome man in a sharp tweed suit and maroon cravat telling mystery-goers the secrets of the Hemlock plant. I begin to feel more courageous as I join the chorus of detectives peppering him with questions. I learn a few facts about poisonous plants, and I’m definitely very suspicious of this chap.
Next, an actor with a thick Russian accent and small, silver-rimmed spectacles perched at the tip of his nose answers our questions in coy half-riddles. “Just because a monk wears the robes,” he tells me, “doesn’t mean he’s a monk.” I’m intrigued. He holds a book with pages so old they look like dried rose petals, every inch of them covered in a cryptic text he says has never been translated.
As I grow more confident, I become increasingly involved in the thrill of the evening. My fellow detectives and I gather clues from the characters, scrawling in our notebooks and running from wing to wing to ask deeper and more probing questions as we get further into the mystery. I’ve forgotten all feelings of San Francisco ‘hipness’ and I’m completely immersed in the plot.
Maybe this is because the plot of a plant-based poisoning is ludicrously perfect for our setting. The air in the Conservatory is warm and balmy, and everywhere I look I’m surrounded by lush vegetation. There’s a quiet chorus of chirping crickets and gentle running water, and as I wander through the wings I hear the calls of exotic birds trembling in the canopy above me. Large ponds filled with bright golden koi fill the center of some rooms, dotted with lily pads large enough to hold an adult human.
Every part of the setting — the sounds, the smells — felt entirely authentic. I was transported back in time, and I was surrounded by actors so deeply in character and so well costumed that I could barely tell it was present day. And, really, this was what made the event so exciting — how enthusiastic and involved everyone was. One event-goer was dressed entirely in blue. She wore a midnight blue mid-century gown with laced ruffles that swept the floor, and cooled herself with a navy blue folding fan. Her eyeshadow was a purplish blue that matched the feather-and-lace headdress. But no one seemed to mind that I was wearing Levi’s circa 2018.
The night begins to draw to a close, and there’s a buzz in the air. My fellow detectives and I are anxiously waiting for the truth to be revealed: who committed the crime, and what was their motive? As the head detective steps onto the stage and the room falls to a hush, I realize this event is exactly what I was looking for. It had excitement, community, and it allowed me to totally lose myself in the adventure (no aloof attitude needed). Plus, it was a great way to experience the city’s Conservatory of Flowers in a new light.
In the interest of secrecy (no spoilers!) I’ll keep the evening’s conclusion between myself and my fellow novice detectives, though I assure you it was full of magic and a few swift surprises. If you’re looking for a night of intrigue and secrecy in the heart of San Francisco, I highly recommend checking this out.
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