An Announcement of Guilt
Ballroom
9:25pm
The two detectives eyed Mr. Boddy carefully as he took his seat across from them. He appeared rather white, something that opposed his black, black suit.
"Mr. Boddy," began Pry, "We understand you had a talk with the deceased in his study shortly before his death."
"Yes." The answer came quickly and nothing followed.
"So what were you talking about? What happened? Come on, Mr. Boddy we need details," urged an ever-growing impatient Pry.
"I really don't see what business it has to --"
"Mr. Perkins was murdered in his study shortly after you left. We think it's very much our business."
Boddy sighed and rubbed his forehead. Such a smooth forehead when he first arrived and now it was blanketed in wrinkles, creases and frowns.
"He told me something...Something that very much infuriated me."
"What did he tell you?"
"It's about regards to my lover."
"Miss Scarlet?" asked Chart.
"Apparantly he had been paying her for sex."
The two detectives eyes had now grown, enlarged in a whirlwind of both excitement and confusion.
"What do you mean? Like a prostitute?" Pry asked.
"Don't call her that, you smug bastard!" Boddy reprimanded. "She didn't go with everybody! Just him. He payed her to...do things with him." Boddy looked as though he was about to throw up but was holding it down the best he could.
"Why would he tell you that?" Pry questioned further.
"He was leaving her a sum of money in the new will he'd just done earlier today."
"Mr. Perkins had made a new will?" Chart exclaimed, his hand feeling numb and sleepy from so much quick-paced writing.
"Yeah. He hadn't told anyone else. Only me."
"Why would he do that?"
"It was -- I don't really know. He said he felt scared. That he felt as though he wouldn't be here much longer. Saying all kinds of silly things like that. He said that before he goes he wanted me to know why he'd left Jacqueline some money. And now I do know."
"Hold on a minute!" Pry raised a hand to his head. "Perkins knew he was gonna die?"
"He didn't say that specifically. He talked oh so cryptically about it all. To be honest, I didn't really take it seriously. I mean, would you? Under the circumstances and everything? It sickens me the think that he was actually right. What sickens me more is the fact that if I'd stayed in the study maybe he'd still be alive."
"Or maybe he'd be dead and you'd be dead as well. The killer doesn't seem particularly meticulous." Pry - always a cynic. He pressed on. "I should imagine that if you learn your lover is having it off with another fellow you'd feel pretty angry towards them."
"And indeed I was! That's the reason why I left the study. I went to the billiard room to join the others but I didn't feel right. I went to the library, called out Jacqueline. We both went to the conservatory to talk about it. She professed that she wasn't in love with him and all this tripe. That it was just for the money. I want to believe her." He looked at Pry with teary eyes. "I love her."
Pry looked at Chart with satisfaction. So Perkins wasn't as innocent as he seemed, huh? What other secrets had this man been hiding?
But first he wanted to confirm something. "Did uh...Dr. Black join you?"
"Oh, yeah, he did. I think he could feel our awkwardness. He tried to cheer us up with a bit of light-hearted chatting. The whole thing was very awkward, I wanted him to go. But he wouldn't. He seemed to stay there on purpose. The next thing we all knew was that Perkins was dead and here we are."
"Thank you, Mr. Boddy. That'll be all for now. Good luck with Jacqueline." Chart finished with a smile.
Pry followed him and closed the door after Boddy had left. "So, Perkins knew someone was after him. Interesting."
"Not to mention the fact he was paying an innocent girl for sexual pleasures."
"I don't understand," Pry whispered, grimacing.
"What, sir?"
"Why was someone after him? And why did he know that someone was after him? And why leave money to Miss Scarlet? Doesn't seem right. It's not all there, Chart. Nowhere near." He sat back down and let out a big sigh.
He licked his lips. "Let's re-cap: what do we know?"
Chart flicked back to the first page of his notes. "Uh...everyone had arrived by 7:45. They had all been asked to stay in the lounge until dinner, which started at 7:55. Here's the seating plan for the dinner table." He handed it to his superior. "Penelope Perkins left the table first, roughly at about 8:10. She went to the kitchen to clear things away - the staff had been dismissed. At 8:15 dinner had finished. Perkins had requested to see Boddy in his study. All the other gentlemen; Black, Mustard and Green had gone to the billiard room. Professor Plum had gone to the kitchen with Miss Perkins. All the ladies; Madame Rose, Peacock, White, Scarlet had gone to do a seance in the library. Miss Peach was headed to the billiard room but got distracted by Monsieur Brunette. The two went in here, the ballroom, got into each other and the two made love upstairs. Perkins had been discussing his proposed payed affairs with Scarlet with Boddy, also saying that he wouldn't be alive much longer. Boddy went to the billiard room for a just a moment before heading to the library, where he pulled Scarlet out of the seance and the two attempted to talk in the conservatory. Doctor Black had left the billiard room and had joined Scarlet and Boddy. By the time the kitchen was cleared, Penelope checked on her father and found him dead."
He breathed. Pry had taken the notepad and was running his eyes up and down the list of names. "Who's this Sergeant Grey?"
"Apparantly, Perkins had hired him to protect his trophy room during the night's festivities."
"Do the two have a previous relationship?"
"Apparantly not. Perkins hired him especially for tonight."
"I think we should talk to him, Chart."
"All right. Shall I go fetch him, sir?"
"Yes. Oh, and get me a drink from the bar if there is any!"
Ballroom
9:35pm
Chart returned shortly after with a glass of whisky in his hand and Sergeant Grey following him. The door to the ballroom opened and they both entered. Chart sat down and gave Pry the drink, which he swung down his throat in a matter of seconds. Grey straightly-faced and unemotional took a seat, frowning at the whole event.
"Grey, Grey," Pry analysed, "Is it Sergeant or Mister?"
"Mister but I prefer Sergeant," he said with a quick, clean nod.
Pry asked, "Why do you call yourself a Sergeant if you aren't one?"
"I consider myself a guard. A form of protection. Besides, faking your name does wonders for business."
"Mr. Perkins hired you to protect his expensive belongings?"
The Sergeant let a wheeze out of his nose. "Not entirely."
The two detectives leaned closer in anticipation.
"Now that he's dead I feel as though I ought to tell the truth. He had hired me to protect him. Not his antiquities."
"He hired you to protect him from what?"
"He didn't say all that much, really. Just that he didn't feel entirely safe with some of the guests here tonight. He just wanted me to look after him. I didn't do a very good job, evidently."
"If you were hired to protect him, then why were you in his bloody trophy room instead of being at his side in the study?"
"I don't know! I didn't really know what to do -- he gave no clear instructions! I just ended up wafting around in there, out of the way."
"Did anyone come into the trophy room?"
Grey considered. "No. At least, no-one actually came in. Someone darted past."
"Did you see who it was?"
"No, not really. Just a shadow."
"Maybe it was Boddy running from the billiard room to the library?" Chart whispered in Pry's ear.
"I'm sorry I can't be more of a help. I can't help but take a lot of the responsibility for what happened to Mr. Perkins."
"Did you stay in the trophy room all night?" asked Pry.
"Yes."
"No further questions."
Grey got up and left.
"Completely useless," Pry muttered, fondling with the empty whisky glass in his hand.
"I find it weird, sir."
"What, Chart?"
"Well, how we spent all that time in the trophy room. Surely he would've gone out at least at some point?"
"Maybe to go out and kill his employer, you mean?"
"He seems pretty motiveless. Well, compared to the likes of Boddy and Scarlet, anyway. Speaking of which, don't you think we should speak to her next?"
"What for?" Pry moaned. "I don't think she could tell us anything new. Her story'll just match up with Boddy's and Black's and I really don't want to hear about her and Perkin's little adventures. We don't really know much that went off in the billiard room or in the library yet, do we?"
"Should we for Mustard or Green, then?"
"Yeah, all right."
"But which one?"
"For crying out loud, Chart, do you need my approval for every decision you make? Just choose one of them!"
Chart, confused about Pry's mixed signals, went for Mustard.
9:40pm
The Colonel was sent for soon enough and he marched into the room with a very domineering presence. He itched at his moustache as he sat down on the cough. "Dreadful business, gentlemen," he said, "terribly awful. Poor Perkins." He nodded to himself.
"Indeed, Colonel," replied Inspector Pry with a similar nod, "we just want to ask you where you were, what you were doing etc.?"
"Of course," he answered, gruffly. "I spent half of the time in the billiard room with Black and Mr. Green."
"Did Boddy come in at some point and leave moments later?" Chart asked.
"As a matter of fact, he did. No idea why. I was just getting to that, you see, because Black followed him - went to see what was wrong. Because of this little fiasco our poker game had gone to zilch and Green and I were left pretty much stranded. We decided, together, that we ought to just go and join in on the cooky Madame's seance. We did. It was frightfully funny. We were all having a good time in there until Penelope's screams were heard." He cleared his throat, uncomfortable.
"You and Green joined in the seance after Black left?" the Inspector just wanted to have this confirmed.
"Yes."
"Did they mind you joining in and everything?"
"Of course they didn't. Besides, Rose loves a crowd. Bigger the better for her." He chuckled.
"Did anyone leave the seance at all? At any point?"
"I honestly couldn't say. You see, the lights were off and it was very much dark. We couldn't see if anyone left or not."
"You've got to be kidding me," Pry murmured before whispering a profanity.
"We would've most likely heard them, though," Mustard hurried to say. "We heard Scarlet leave when Boddy came to get her.
"Well, did you hear anyone else leave, then?" growled Pry, his face growing sour.
"No, I didn't. Sorry."
"How well did you know Mr. Perkins?" Constable Chart piped up to ask.
"Relatively well. We were quite good friends. All of us here are. We're quite a tight social circle, you see."
"How did Perkins seem to you tonight? Did he seem hesitant or anything like that, in your opinion?"
"Not really, no. Then again, I could never tell with him most of the time. Hiding things was his speciality."
"Don't we know that," hissed Pry.
To be continued...
9:25pm
The two detectives eyed Mr. Boddy carefully as he took his seat across from them. He appeared rather white, something that opposed his black, black suit.
"Mr. Boddy," began Pry, "We understand you had a talk with the deceased in his study shortly before his death."
"Yes." The answer came quickly and nothing followed.
"So what were you talking about? What happened? Come on, Mr. Boddy we need details," urged an ever-growing impatient Pry.
"I really don't see what business it has to --"
"Mr. Perkins was murdered in his study shortly after you left. We think it's very much our business."
Boddy sighed and rubbed his forehead. Such a smooth forehead when he first arrived and now it was blanketed in wrinkles, creases and frowns.
"He told me something...Something that very much infuriated me."
"What did he tell you?"
"It's about regards to my lover."
"Miss Scarlet?" asked Chart.
"Apparantly he had been paying her for sex."
The two detectives eyes had now grown, enlarged in a whirlwind of both excitement and confusion.
"What do you mean? Like a prostitute?" Pry asked.
"Don't call her that, you smug bastard!" Boddy reprimanded. "She didn't go with everybody! Just him. He payed her to...do things with him." Boddy looked as though he was about to throw up but was holding it down the best he could.
"Why would he tell you that?" Pry questioned further.
"He was leaving her a sum of money in the new will he'd just done earlier today."
"Mr. Perkins had made a new will?" Chart exclaimed, his hand feeling numb and sleepy from so much quick-paced writing.
"Yeah. He hadn't told anyone else. Only me."
"Why would he do that?"
"It was -- I don't really know. He said he felt scared. That he felt as though he wouldn't be here much longer. Saying all kinds of silly things like that. He said that before he goes he wanted me to know why he'd left Jacqueline some money. And now I do know."
"Hold on a minute!" Pry raised a hand to his head. "Perkins knew he was gonna die?"
"He didn't say that specifically. He talked oh so cryptically about it all. To be honest, I didn't really take it seriously. I mean, would you? Under the circumstances and everything? It sickens me the think that he was actually right. What sickens me more is the fact that if I'd stayed in the study maybe he'd still be alive."
"Or maybe he'd be dead and you'd be dead as well. The killer doesn't seem particularly meticulous." Pry - always a cynic. He pressed on. "I should imagine that if you learn your lover is having it off with another fellow you'd feel pretty angry towards them."
"And indeed I was! That's the reason why I left the study. I went to the billiard room to join the others but I didn't feel right. I went to the library, called out Jacqueline. We both went to the conservatory to talk about it. She professed that she wasn't in love with him and all this tripe. That it was just for the money. I want to believe her." He looked at Pry with teary eyes. "I love her."
Pry looked at Chart with satisfaction. So Perkins wasn't as innocent as he seemed, huh? What other secrets had this man been hiding?
But first he wanted to confirm something. "Did uh...Dr. Black join you?"
"Oh, yeah, he did. I think he could feel our awkwardness. He tried to cheer us up with a bit of light-hearted chatting. The whole thing was very awkward, I wanted him to go. But he wouldn't. He seemed to stay there on purpose. The next thing we all knew was that Perkins was dead and here we are."
"Thank you, Mr. Boddy. That'll be all for now. Good luck with Jacqueline." Chart finished with a smile.
Pry followed him and closed the door after Boddy had left. "So, Perkins knew someone was after him. Interesting."
"Not to mention the fact he was paying an innocent girl for sexual pleasures."
"I don't understand," Pry whispered, grimacing.
"What, sir?"
"Why was someone after him? And why did he know that someone was after him? And why leave money to Miss Scarlet? Doesn't seem right. It's not all there, Chart. Nowhere near." He sat back down and let out a big sigh.
He licked his lips. "Let's re-cap: what do we know?"
Chart flicked back to the first page of his notes. "Uh...everyone had arrived by 7:45. They had all been asked to stay in the lounge until dinner, which started at 7:55. Here's the seating plan for the dinner table." He handed it to his superior. "Penelope Perkins left the table first, roughly at about 8:10. She went to the kitchen to clear things away - the staff had been dismissed. At 8:15 dinner had finished. Perkins had requested to see Boddy in his study. All the other gentlemen; Black, Mustard and Green had gone to the billiard room. Professor Plum had gone to the kitchen with Miss Perkins. All the ladies; Madame Rose, Peacock, White, Scarlet had gone to do a seance in the library. Miss Peach was headed to the billiard room but got distracted by Monsieur Brunette. The two went in here, the ballroom, got into each other and the two made love upstairs. Perkins had been discussing his proposed payed affairs with Scarlet with Boddy, also saying that he wouldn't be alive much longer. Boddy went to the billiard room for a just a moment before heading to the library, where he pulled Scarlet out of the seance and the two attempted to talk in the conservatory. Doctor Black had left the billiard room and had joined Scarlet and Boddy. By the time the kitchen was cleared, Penelope checked on her father and found him dead."
He breathed. Pry had taken the notepad and was running his eyes up and down the list of names. "Who's this Sergeant Grey?"
"Apparantly, Perkins had hired him to protect his trophy room during the night's festivities."
"Do the two have a previous relationship?"
"Apparantly not. Perkins hired him especially for tonight."
"I think we should talk to him, Chart."
"All right. Shall I go fetch him, sir?"
"Yes. Oh, and get me a drink from the bar if there is any!"
Ballroom
9:35pm
Chart returned shortly after with a glass of whisky in his hand and Sergeant Grey following him. The door to the ballroom opened and they both entered. Chart sat down and gave Pry the drink, which he swung down his throat in a matter of seconds. Grey straightly-faced and unemotional took a seat, frowning at the whole event.
"Grey, Grey," Pry analysed, "Is it Sergeant or Mister?"
"Mister but I prefer Sergeant," he said with a quick, clean nod.
Pry asked, "Why do you call yourself a Sergeant if you aren't one?"
"I consider myself a guard. A form of protection. Besides, faking your name does wonders for business."
"Mr. Perkins hired you to protect his expensive belongings?"
The Sergeant let a wheeze out of his nose. "Not entirely."
The two detectives leaned closer in anticipation.
"Now that he's dead I feel as though I ought to tell the truth. He had hired me to protect him. Not his antiquities."
"He hired you to protect him from what?"
"He didn't say all that much, really. Just that he didn't feel entirely safe with some of the guests here tonight. He just wanted me to look after him. I didn't do a very good job, evidently."
"If you were hired to protect him, then why were you in his bloody trophy room instead of being at his side in the study?"
"I don't know! I didn't really know what to do -- he gave no clear instructions! I just ended up wafting around in there, out of the way."
"Did anyone come into the trophy room?"
Grey considered. "No. At least, no-one actually came in. Someone darted past."
"Did you see who it was?"
"No, not really. Just a shadow."
"Maybe it was Boddy running from the billiard room to the library?" Chart whispered in Pry's ear.
"I'm sorry I can't be more of a help. I can't help but take a lot of the responsibility for what happened to Mr. Perkins."
"Did you stay in the trophy room all night?" asked Pry.
"Yes."
"No further questions."
Grey got up and left.
"Completely useless," Pry muttered, fondling with the empty whisky glass in his hand.
"I find it weird, sir."
"What, Chart?"
"Well, how we spent all that time in the trophy room. Surely he would've gone out at least at some point?"
"Maybe to go out and kill his employer, you mean?"
"He seems pretty motiveless. Well, compared to the likes of Boddy and Scarlet, anyway. Speaking of which, don't you think we should speak to her next?"
"What for?" Pry moaned. "I don't think she could tell us anything new. Her story'll just match up with Boddy's and Black's and I really don't want to hear about her and Perkin's little adventures. We don't really know much that went off in the billiard room or in the library yet, do we?"
"Should we for Mustard or Green, then?"
"Yeah, all right."
"But which one?"
"For crying out loud, Chart, do you need my approval for every decision you make? Just choose one of them!"
Chart, confused about Pry's mixed signals, went for Mustard.
9:40pm
The Colonel was sent for soon enough and he marched into the room with a very domineering presence. He itched at his moustache as he sat down on the cough. "Dreadful business, gentlemen," he said, "terribly awful. Poor Perkins." He nodded to himself.
"Indeed, Colonel," replied Inspector Pry with a similar nod, "we just want to ask you where you were, what you were doing etc.?"
"Of course," he answered, gruffly. "I spent half of the time in the billiard room with Black and Mr. Green."
"Did Boddy come in at some point and leave moments later?" Chart asked.
"As a matter of fact, he did. No idea why. I was just getting to that, you see, because Black followed him - went to see what was wrong. Because of this little fiasco our poker game had gone to zilch and Green and I were left pretty much stranded. We decided, together, that we ought to just go and join in on the cooky Madame's seance. We did. It was frightfully funny. We were all having a good time in there until Penelope's screams were heard." He cleared his throat, uncomfortable.
"You and Green joined in the seance after Black left?" the Inspector just wanted to have this confirmed.
"Yes."
"Did they mind you joining in and everything?"
"Of course they didn't. Besides, Rose loves a crowd. Bigger the better for her." He chuckled.
"Did anyone leave the seance at all? At any point?"
"I honestly couldn't say. You see, the lights were off and it was very much dark. We couldn't see if anyone left or not."
"You've got to be kidding me," Pry murmured before whispering a profanity.
"We would've most likely heard them, though," Mustard hurried to say. "We heard Scarlet leave when Boddy came to get her.
"Well, did you hear anyone else leave, then?" growled Pry, his face growing sour.
"No, I didn't. Sorry."
"How well did you know Mr. Perkins?" Constable Chart piped up to ask.
"Relatively well. We were quite good friends. All of us here are. We're quite a tight social circle, you see."
"How did Perkins seem to you tonight? Did he seem hesitant or anything like that, in your opinion?"
"Not really, no. Then again, I could never tell with him most of the time. Hiding things was his speciality."
"Don't we know that," hissed Pry.
To be continued...
