Shared Guilt- A Knives Out Story

Chapter 1

Ransom had been genuinely emotional about the passing of his grandfather. Despite their regular fall-outs, disagreements and mocking discussions, he had always looked up to Harlan, maybe even more so than to his own father. So, when his mother called, saying Harlan had committed suicide by slitting his throat, he was too shocked to be suspicious about the circumstances of his death.
When the initial shock had settled, though he was certain that there must've been foul play. That's why he secretly hired Benoit Blanc to investigate. If Harlan had been murdered, it was almost certainly someone from his family.

Still, he was furious at the old man, because now that he died, his controversial last will would be put into action: speaking precisely everything would go to his Venezuelan nurse Marta Cabrera and no one in the family would get "a single red dime" as Walt would like to say.

It wasn't like he was gonna be a poor man because of that- he had invested money from his trust fund and surprisingly he had actually finished college and had a degree in business management. So, if it came down to that he could get a job. He had a nice car, a decent house, his closet filled with expensive designer knitted sweaters and Gucci scarfs, he would be just fine without his share of the inheritance.

Still when Harlan had told him, it had of course gnawed at his ego and he'd done what he always did: angrily storming out on Harlan. Doubts slightly started to creep up inside of him. Should he have reacted, differently, stayed and listened to what he had to say? Would that have changed anything?

He immediately had set his mind on Walt. He knew that Harlan was planning to fire him, so he'd have to "built something for himself from the ground up"- or some shit like that. But maybe Walt didn't have the balls to do it, so it could've been the usually so skittish and quiet Donna or their Nazi-spawn of a son.

Ransom also had a bet out on his own father. God knows how many flings with barely-of-legal-age college students that even Ransom himself considered too young for himself Richard had over the years of his marriage with Linda. When he was 10, he ran in on his father with his fling of the month, in his parents' bedroom while Linda was out on a business trip. Richard had bought him a PlayStation and a Rolex, so he'd keep his mouth shut and so he did. But would he kill just so he could profit from being Linda's husband until she found out herself?

So, when his doorbell rang at 11.30 PM, two days after Harlan's death and he discovered a crying, confused Meg on his front door, he sensed that this rabbit hole was way deeper than he thought.

Naturally, he gestured for her to come in, she was soaked from head to toe by the massive fall rains of Massachusetts. Once he wordlessly handed her a steaming mug filled with tea and she had sat down on his white-designer-leather couch, Ransom looked at her puzzled, expecting an explanation for her unusual visit.
Meg looked up at him, teary eyed, voice barely above a whisper

"Grandpa didn't kill himself."

Ransom knew what direction their conversation was going in, but wanted to hear everything she had to say first.

"I figured that much." He huffed, taking a gulp of scotch from his glass.

"I...I didn't want for him to....to...d...die, you know... I just wanted him to be one who's being fooled for once. He should just be shocked... h...e.. he wasn't supposed to get severly hurt or something."

Meg spoke out between sobs and then lowered her head again. Ransom moved forward, startled at what she'd began to confess to him.

"Meg, what did you do?"

"I don't even know why I came to you... you of all people. I might as well tell everybody right away at the will reading next week. You're gonna enjoy ratting me out to everybody and I served it to you on a silver platter. I... I should probably just go...." Meg spoke hastily now, her tone nervous and shaky.

"Meg, what did you do?" Ransom asked again, this time with more emphasis.

"He cut me and mom off, wasn't going to pay my tuition anymore. Mom said it was because we're not really a part of his "inner circle", because she's just his son's widow. Isn't that cruel, I didn't ask for my father to die when I was 6. And I just got so mad and I felt like he needed to be taught a lesson."
Meg sighed, putting her mug down on the glass coffee table.

"I climbed up the ranks, through the secret window and I... I switched his meds. I knew Marta was going to give them to him after the party and I.... I just wanted him to be the one who's fooled for once, I wanted to scare him so he'd realize how important family is when you're older. But something must've gone terribly wrong. I don't know what happened after that... just that the next day, Walt called and said he killed himself." She looked him dead in the eyes now.
Ransom was boiling with anger, but not necessarily at Meg. Harlan had really wanted to go through with cutting everybody off.

"Holy fuck, Meg. What do you expect me to do now!? It's not I can bring him back to life, goddammit!" He got up and turned away from her, staring out his glass house into the dark woods.

"I don't know... I just needed to tell someone." Meg cried out.

"So, you didn't tell anyone, not your even your mother?" he asked, slowly regaining his composure and starting to think of ways to solve this.

Meg just shook her head at that. Ransom started to pace around the living room.

"Shit, when they do a tox screen- they're gonna think it was Marta." Ransom exclaimed, rubbing his face.

"What? Marta why? And why would they do a tox screen?" Meg was confused.

"Because I hired Benoit Blanc, the famous detective to investigate Harlan's death. I knew that something was up and I suspected Walt, my dad or Jacob even... but you!? That never even crossed my mind. Shit,shit."

It was quiet for a bit until Ransom spoke up again.

"Did you know he's giving everything to Marta? The money, the house, the entire publishing company? Nobody gets anything, that has nothing to do with you or that your father is dead. He cut us all off, I was just the first to know about it."

"So, mom lied to me, great. I don't know exactly what happened afterwards, but his death is my responsibility and this detective will get me or sweet, innocent will be falsely accused... Should I just go to the police and confess?" Meg looked at him, seeking support so desperately even Ransom couldn't deny her.

When he was a little boy, he had always wanted siblings, but his mother seemed to be fed up with him as an only child already. She fulfilled her "task" as the eldest daughter to giver her father a grandson and heir, but that was really all it was. So, no siblings for Ransom, instead lots of nannies and later boarding schools. But then when little Meg was born, 10-year-old Ransom couldn't have been happier. She was like a sister when they were younger, they explored the attic of the Thrombey mansion together and ran around playing hide and seek. Until he got to cool to play with his little cousin and focused on partying, alcohol and an expensive college lifestyle.

Still, he was a bit sentimental because Meg was like a sister to him, she shouldn't go to jail, she was still a kid somehow.

So, he made a grave decision, he had a master plan in mind.

"Listen, I'll handle this, ok? You go home and you tell no one anything about that night, understood?"

She nodded.

"Thank you Ransom, I... I'm so sorry." Meg got up and hugged him which he reluctantly accepted, but he remained stiff like a tree.

"Don't thank me yet", he murmured.