Life of an Illicit Man (Part 2)
Ballroom
9:05pm
"I...don't understand," murmured Chart.
"Well, Penelope's a pretty girl. She looked so down over dinner, I thought I'd go and cheer her up."
"She's the one who suggested you did it," Chart exclaimed. "Why would she do that if you have a perfect alibi with her?"
"I couldn't call it perfect, Chart. You were in the kitchen with her. Helping her clear things away? Could you be a bit more elaborate?"
"Archibald had dismissed the servants early. Penelope wanted to get a head-start, so to speak. She was the first to leave dinner. I assumed that's what she wanted to do. I always considered her a bit of a clean-freak."
"So you just thought you'd help her? How considerate," Pry was not to be fooled.
"Yes. I admit I had gone to see her with an ulterior motive --"
"I wonder that was," Chart mumbled.
" -- but we just ended up chatting."
"Chatting about what?" Pry was keen, very keen. He knew how to fish 'em!
"I don't remember, all sorts --"
"Maybe about your novel that got rejected?"
"Oh, here we go!" Plum impatiently exclaimed.
"We don't have enough time for you at the moment, Professor, but I assure you, we will be coming to visit you at a later date. And you'd better have that little manuscript of your's with you," Pry snarled.
"Where do you live?" Chart asked, unemotionally.
"I'm staying at a hotel over in Estherbridge, that's just the next town over. Room 115, if you must know."
"Don't go anywhere tomorrow. We'll be visiting," Pry finished.
9:05pm
"I...don't understand," murmured Chart.
"Well, Penelope's a pretty girl. She looked so down over dinner, I thought I'd go and cheer her up."
"She's the one who suggested you did it," Chart exclaimed. "Why would she do that if you have a perfect alibi with her?"
"I couldn't call it perfect, Chart. You were in the kitchen with her. Helping her clear things away? Could you be a bit more elaborate?"
"Archibald had dismissed the servants early. Penelope wanted to get a head-start, so to speak. She was the first to leave dinner. I assumed that's what she wanted to do. I always considered her a bit of a clean-freak."
"So you just thought you'd help her? How considerate," Pry was not to be fooled.
"Yes. I admit I had gone to see her with an ulterior motive --"
"I wonder that was," Chart mumbled.
" -- but we just ended up chatting."
"Chatting about what?" Pry was keen, very keen. He knew how to fish 'em!
"I don't remember, all sorts --"
"Maybe about your novel that got rejected?"
"Oh, here we go!" Plum impatiently exclaimed.
"We don't have enough time for you at the moment, Professor, but I assure you, we will be coming to visit you at a later date. And you'd better have that little manuscript of your's with you," Pry snarled.
"Where do you live?" Chart asked, unemotionally.
"I'm staying at a hotel over in Estherbridge, that's just the next town over. Room 115, if you must know."
"Don't go anywhere tomorrow. We'll be visiting," Pry finished.
Ballroom
9:10pm
Chart looked at the alibis he had acquired so far:
P. Perkins - Kitchen, cleaning
Prof. J. Plum - With P. Perkins in Kitchen
He scoffed.
The ballroom doors opened and Pry came back in, the fragile Miss Peach behind him. He motioned with a gest of hand where she should sit and he plotted himself in his usual seat.
Maybelle's face was pink, stained with tears. Her previously well-combed hair was now a matted mess. She was still crying slightly.
"What has you so upset, Miss Peach?" Pry asked with a smile.
"I'm...I'm just...devestated by the -- the news. About Mr. Perkins."
"As we all are, indeed, Miss Peach," Pry said, leaning forward, "but why are you so upset? From what I hear you hardly knew the man. You were just here with your fiance."
She didn't reply. Her hyperventalated splutters were the only sounds that came from her mouth.
Chart sighed. Pry leaned forward a little more. "I don't your upset neccessarily about Mr. Perkins but more of the idea of his murder, correct?"
"Yes!" she jumped at the opportunity. "Yes! That's exactly what I feel!"
"You seem awfully quick to agree with that," he said. He cut to the chase. "What's the real reason you're upset?"
She burst into hysterics now. She wailed and tears flooded her whole face. It was obvious she could hardly breath properly, she was gasping and spluttering continuously. She wailed some more.
"Miss Peach, please!" Pry shouted. She didn't cooperate.
Chart got up and sat next to her. Her wrapped his arm around her meek shoulder. "Come on, Miss Peach. I apologise for Inspector Pry's attitude," he glared daggers at his superior, "but you must understand he's just doing his job." She continued to cry. "It's alright, it's alright," the constable soothed.
The time for Pry to score was now. "Where were you?"
Chart scoffed again, astounded by his seemingly menacing boss. Miss Peach finally said something. Shouted it, actually. "I was upstairs! I was sleeping with Brunette when Perkins was killed!" She screamed and cried some more.
"What?" Pry exclaimed.
"Sleeping with -- what?" a thoroughly confused Chart asked.
"It was shortly after dinner," began Miss Peach, "Madame Rose was going to hold a seance in the library to entertain us women - all the men had gone for a game of billiards."
"And then what happened?" Pry pried.
"Well, I wasn't interested. Neither was Monsieur Brunette --"
"Wait, he wasn't in the billiard room with all the other men, then?"
"No," she sniffed, "I can't even remember if he was asked. He's not considered part of the prestige. He's the just the help. I was going to the billiard room to see Clifford when he came up behind me. The two of us ended up talking in here for a bit," her eyes scowered the room. "We were both a bit tipsy from all the alcohol - at least I was. The next thing I remember I was kissing him and then we rushed off upstairs."
There was a very awkward silence. Chart eventually broke it. "So, had you and this Brunette fellow been having an affair for long or...?"
"No, just started tonight. We'd been...aquaintances for a while, though. I admit I was attracted to him before tonight."
"So, your lust for him had just gotten too much, I assume?" Pry said.
"I guess you could call it that. It's just...Clifford is never really there for me. Not half as much as I'd like him too. But that's not his fault! He's very busy! I was aware of that before I even moved here with him. It's just -- I didn't realise how much it was going to affect me."
"Clifford -- is that uh, Colonel Mustard?" Chart asked, writing as fast as he could, his hands sweaty and hot.
"Yes," she answered simply.
"Does he know of this...incident?" Pry asked.
"No! I really don't want to tell him. He'd probably never forgive me! How could I do that to him?"
"Don't you think he has a right to know?"
"Well of course but -- oh, I don't know what to do," she began to cry again.
"Be happy, Miss Peach. It means you have a very good alibi," Pry said.
"It's a pretty awful alibi, if you ask me. Poor Mr. Perkins. He was killed while we were..."
"Well, Miss Peach, you're obviously very upset. We'll come and interview you again at a later date. Your head will hopefully be a bit clearer by then."
"Alright."
She showed herself out.
Pry gave a huge sigh and massaged his eyebrows. "Ugh..."
"Are you alright?" Chart asked his colleague.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm just exhausted already -- and we've only interviewed three of them!"
Chart gave a smile in attempt to cheer him up.
After a minute, Pry said, "Okay, who next?"
"I don't know. You normally decide what we do."
"Well, I'll let you decide, I think. Show me what you've got."
"I don't know, sir. I really think you --"
"No, no! Please, your turn. Who shall we have?"
"Well I would've said Brunette but," he looked at the Inspector. "I figure his story will just be the same as her's."
"Very good," Pry approved.
"Maybe her good old Clifford? You know, the Colonel?"
"It's possible. I would have thought of somebody else before, though."
"Oh, I really give up!"
"No, go on."
Chart sighed. "Stuff it, let's go for someone random." He re-checked the list. "Let's go for Quentin Black. Ooh, he's a doctor! Apparantly, an old friend of Perkins."
"Good. Let's see if he can give us any insight to what kind of man he was."
9:10pm
Chart looked at the alibis he had acquired so far:
P. Perkins - Kitchen, cleaning
Prof. J. Plum - With P. Perkins in Kitchen
He scoffed.
The ballroom doors opened and Pry came back in, the fragile Miss Peach behind him. He motioned with a gest of hand where she should sit and he plotted himself in his usual seat.
Maybelle's face was pink, stained with tears. Her previously well-combed hair was now a matted mess. She was still crying slightly.
"What has you so upset, Miss Peach?" Pry asked with a smile.
"I'm...I'm just...devestated by the -- the news. About Mr. Perkins."
"As we all are, indeed, Miss Peach," Pry said, leaning forward, "but why are you so upset? From what I hear you hardly knew the man. You were just here with your fiance."
She didn't reply. Her hyperventalated splutters were the only sounds that came from her mouth.
Chart sighed. Pry leaned forward a little more. "I don't your upset neccessarily about Mr. Perkins but more of the idea of his murder, correct?"
"Yes!" she jumped at the opportunity. "Yes! That's exactly what I feel!"
"You seem awfully quick to agree with that," he said. He cut to the chase. "What's the real reason you're upset?"
She burst into hysterics now. She wailed and tears flooded her whole face. It was obvious she could hardly breath properly, she was gasping and spluttering continuously. She wailed some more.
"Miss Peach, please!" Pry shouted. She didn't cooperate.
Chart got up and sat next to her. Her wrapped his arm around her meek shoulder. "Come on, Miss Peach. I apologise for Inspector Pry's attitude," he glared daggers at his superior, "but you must understand he's just doing his job." She continued to cry. "It's alright, it's alright," the constable soothed.
The time for Pry to score was now. "Where were you?"
Chart scoffed again, astounded by his seemingly menacing boss. Miss Peach finally said something. Shouted it, actually. "I was upstairs! I was sleeping with Brunette when Perkins was killed!" She screamed and cried some more.
"What?" Pry exclaimed.
"Sleeping with -- what?" a thoroughly confused Chart asked.
"It was shortly after dinner," began Miss Peach, "Madame Rose was going to hold a seance in the library to entertain us women - all the men had gone for a game of billiards."
"And then what happened?" Pry pried.
"Well, I wasn't interested. Neither was Monsieur Brunette --"
"Wait, he wasn't in the billiard room with all the other men, then?"
"No," she sniffed, "I can't even remember if he was asked. He's not considered part of the prestige. He's the just the help. I was going to the billiard room to see Clifford when he came up behind me. The two of us ended up talking in here for a bit," her eyes scowered the room. "We were both a bit tipsy from all the alcohol - at least I was. The next thing I remember I was kissing him and then we rushed off upstairs."
There was a very awkward silence. Chart eventually broke it. "So, had you and this Brunette fellow been having an affair for long or...?"
"No, just started tonight. We'd been...aquaintances for a while, though. I admit I was attracted to him before tonight."
"So, your lust for him had just gotten too much, I assume?" Pry said.
"I guess you could call it that. It's just...Clifford is never really there for me. Not half as much as I'd like him too. But that's not his fault! He's very busy! I was aware of that before I even moved here with him. It's just -- I didn't realise how much it was going to affect me."
"Clifford -- is that uh, Colonel Mustard?" Chart asked, writing as fast as he could, his hands sweaty and hot.
"Yes," she answered simply.
"Does he know of this...incident?" Pry asked.
"No! I really don't want to tell him. He'd probably never forgive me! How could I do that to him?"
"Don't you think he has a right to know?"
"Well of course but -- oh, I don't know what to do," she began to cry again.
"Be happy, Miss Peach. It means you have a very good alibi," Pry said.
"It's a pretty awful alibi, if you ask me. Poor Mr. Perkins. He was killed while we were..."
"Well, Miss Peach, you're obviously very upset. We'll come and interview you again at a later date. Your head will hopefully be a bit clearer by then."
"Alright."
She showed herself out.
Pry gave a huge sigh and massaged his eyebrows. "Ugh..."
"Are you alright?" Chart asked his colleague.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm just exhausted already -- and we've only interviewed three of them!"
Chart gave a smile in attempt to cheer him up.
After a minute, Pry said, "Okay, who next?"
"I don't know. You normally decide what we do."
"Well, I'll let you decide, I think. Show me what you've got."
"I don't know, sir. I really think you --"
"No, no! Please, your turn. Who shall we have?"
"Well I would've said Brunette but," he looked at the Inspector. "I figure his story will just be the same as her's."
"Very good," Pry approved.
"Maybe her good old Clifford? You know, the Colonel?"
"It's possible. I would have thought of somebody else before, though."
"Oh, I really give up!"
"No, go on."
Chart sighed. "Stuff it, let's go for someone random." He re-checked the list. "Let's go for Quentin Black. Ooh, he's a doctor! Apparantly, an old friend of Perkins."
"Good. Let's see if he can give us any insight to what kind of man he was."
Ballroom
9: 20pm
Doctor Black swaggered in and sat on a loveseat. The excitable sergeant outside had brought him in. He smiled at the two officers infront of him. He appeared calm, adapted and ready for questioning. Something that juxtaposed incredibly with the over-emotional likes of Perkins and Peach.
"Doctor Black, where did you go after dinner?" Pry asked as polite as possible. He had to remember that this was a a new person.
"Yes, certainly. All of us gentlemen went to the billiard room. We were having a pretty decent game when Mr. Boddy came in."
"He wasn't already there with you?" Pry asked.
"No. He had gone to the study with Mr. Perkins." He said this very slowly, fully realising the implications involved.
"How did we not know this?" Pry hissed to Chart.
He turned back to the Black. "So, under what circumstances exactly did Boddy go to the study?"
"Archibald wanted to see him immediately after dinner. Boddy gladly obliged. Whatever they were discussing it only lasted a couple of minutes and the next thing Boddy had joined us in the billiard room."
"But Mr. Perkins had not?"
"No."
There was a silence.
"You don't think Boddy killed poor Perkins do you?"
Pry thought best not to answer. After all, he wasn't the one being interviewed.
Chart looked up from his notepad, "Then what happened?"
"He stayed with us for about a minute and then left."
"Then what?" Pry said.
"I went to look for him. He didn't seem at all amused. I found him in the conservatory with the gorgeous beau of his."
"Jacqueline Scarlet?" Chart asked for confirmation.
"Yes. The two seemed rather hostile. I tried to liven the mood with a bit of comedic conversation."
"And then...?" Chart pressed.
"The three of us stayed there until the announcement of Perkins' death."
"Very convenient," Pry mumbled.
He stared Black right in the eyes. "Tell me, Doctor, what kind of man was Perkins? I mean, really?"
"Well...he was awfully private. Didn't divulge in a lot of things. Kept himself to himself."
"Did he have any enemies?" piped Chart.
"Not that I know of. He was really friendly most of the time."
"Most of the time?" Pry picked up on the point.
"He had his off days like we all do. But the odd thing is he's 'off' all week. I think that brick business set him a bit doo-wally. Did you ever find the rascal that did that?"
"No," Pry said quickly before moving on, "so what about all the other men in the billiard room? Where did they all go?"
"I don't know. They probably ended up joining that my sister-in-law's amateur little seance."
"Thank you, Doctor Black. That'll be all."
He left.
"Now what?" Chart asked.
"Get Boddy in here, of course. Let's find out what went in the study."
9: 20pm
Doctor Black swaggered in and sat on a loveseat. The excitable sergeant outside had brought him in. He smiled at the two officers infront of him. He appeared calm, adapted and ready for questioning. Something that juxtaposed incredibly with the over-emotional likes of Perkins and Peach.
"Doctor Black, where did you go after dinner?" Pry asked as polite as possible. He had to remember that this was a a new person.
"Yes, certainly. All of us gentlemen went to the billiard room. We were having a pretty decent game when Mr. Boddy came in."
"He wasn't already there with you?" Pry asked.
"No. He had gone to the study with Mr. Perkins." He said this very slowly, fully realising the implications involved.
"How did we not know this?" Pry hissed to Chart.
He turned back to the Black. "So, under what circumstances exactly did Boddy go to the study?"
"Archibald wanted to see him immediately after dinner. Boddy gladly obliged. Whatever they were discussing it only lasted a couple of minutes and the next thing Boddy had joined us in the billiard room."
"But Mr. Perkins had not?"
"No."
There was a silence.
"You don't think Boddy killed poor Perkins do you?"
Pry thought best not to answer. After all, he wasn't the one being interviewed.
Chart looked up from his notepad, "Then what happened?"
"He stayed with us for about a minute and then left."
"Then what?" Pry said.
"I went to look for him. He didn't seem at all amused. I found him in the conservatory with the gorgeous beau of his."
"Jacqueline Scarlet?" Chart asked for confirmation.
"Yes. The two seemed rather hostile. I tried to liven the mood with a bit of comedic conversation."
"And then...?" Chart pressed.
"The three of us stayed there until the announcement of Perkins' death."
"Very convenient," Pry mumbled.
He stared Black right in the eyes. "Tell me, Doctor, what kind of man was Perkins? I mean, really?"
"Well...he was awfully private. Didn't divulge in a lot of things. Kept himself to himself."
"Did he have any enemies?" piped Chart.
"Not that I know of. He was really friendly most of the time."
"Most of the time?" Pry picked up on the point.
"He had his off days like we all do. But the odd thing is he's 'off' all week. I think that brick business set him a bit doo-wally. Did you ever find the rascal that did that?"
"No," Pry said quickly before moving on, "so what about all the other men in the billiard room? Where did they all go?"
"I don't know. They probably ended up joining that my sister-in-law's amateur little seance."
"Thank you, Doctor Black. That'll be all."
He left.
"Now what?" Chart asked.
"Get Boddy in here, of course. Let's find out what went in the study."
To be continued...
