You don't have enough clues

... It was no good. You racked your brain, but all you had was scattered testimony-- nothing that would stick and make one clear, suspicious culprit stand out above the others.

"Cat got your tongue? What have you been doing this whole time, Malcolm Wolf?" Dee questioned, lowering her eyebrows. "Well, you may not have a culprit in mind, but I do. In the absence of one detective's work... I propose we accept the other's."

"No! You can't **** Malcolm to do everything himself. That isn't fair," Linda pointed out. "You don't have any evidence on him, either! Stop trying to pin everything on an innocent man!"

"Ho ho ho! Not much of a detective, anyway, if he can't even point to a culprit!" Yara guffawed, covering her annoying grin with one hand. "You should do a better job with your plus one next time, dear!"

Tallula's lips quivered as she nervously attempted to raise her voice and speak up for everyone to remain calm, but she couldn't manage.

Even Dee was surprised when moments later, an actual fight broke out, with Linda slapping Yara hard enough to slightly displace her mask. Brunhilde held Yara back as she flung her arms wildly, trying to retaliate, and you did the same for Linda. The entire dining room was enveloped in chaos, with plates and glasses falling from the table.

Eric cleared his throat loudly over the din, which then turned into an unhealthy sounding hacking cough. He held a handkerchief up to his mouth, sniffed, then continued in his usual snooty way as though nothing was the matter. "Ahem... I have a letter here from the game master."

Linda's face went white as she repeated the words back to him. "Game... master? Wh-What are you talking about?"

"No questions, please. The game master wishes to inform you, Mr. Malcolm Wolf..." he continued, then turned the small square envelope around to reveal a single message in cursive font. "Game Over."