31 October 2016
I'm sat at the back of a room in Shoreditch Town Hall in London. Around me are more than 50 women-mainly in their 40s and 50s, with soccer mom hair and Bloomingdale's wardrobes-frantically jotting down notes. "If there's no blood and guts, I'm not going to convinced there's been a murder," a speaker advises. "You need at least one dead body... preferably multiple."