1.09 The Ones Left Remaining
Perkins Manor
Ballroom
10:00pm
Mr. Green was ordered in next. He came in, arms swinging from side to side and slumped himself down, throwing an arm over the back of the sofa, and picking up one of his legs so he could fold it over the other.
"Hello, Mr. Green," the Inspector said politely. "You know, what with all the Doctors, Professor, Colonel's and Sergeant's around this place, it's nice to have a normal mister man for a change." He chuckled, lighting a cigar. He offered the green-suited man one and he obliged with a smile. Chart declined; he didn't smoke.
"So we understand you were in the billiard room for some time in the evening, after dinner?"
"That's correct," he answered, blowing a pillow of grey smoke. "All us men were playing snooker, poker, the likes. It was quite fun until --"
"Until Joseph Boddy came in and left soon after," Pry knew the story well now.
"Exactly. The Doctor followed him out. It didn't look as though he were returning so the Colonel and I dabbled in that seance in the room next door."
"The library," Chart commented.
"We understand the lights were off by the time you entered?"
"Correct again." He chuckled, "You have done your homework."
"Did you see anyone leave the library at all?"
Green gasped, mockingly. "You mean am I going to set anyone up?" He laughed again, his cigar dangling from his fingers. "You reckon someone snuck out, killed Perkins and came back?"
"We're trying to explore all possibilities, yes, Mr. Green."
"No, I didn't see anyone. Or hear anyone - if that was going to be your next question."
"Could you tell us anything about Perkins? So far...we don't know that much." It wasn't a lie. More of a half-lie.
"He seemed very edgy over dinner this evening. It was under my assumption the man had always suffered from nerves but it was full-swing tonight."
"What do you mean?"
Green blew out more smoke, creating quite the cloud above their heads. "It was just...he was shaking while he ate. I hadn't dined with him all that much so I couldn't really tell if he was always like that but I don't think he was. He seemed most upset, also, at the prospect of having Mrs. Peacock sat next to him."
Constable Chart scattered back the pages to look at the seating arrangement for dinner. "Yeah, we heard she had moved places to be next to him."
Green nodded, making noises of assent. "After Penelope had gone -- curious girl -- she took no hesitation in pinching her seat."
"And why would that be, I wonder?"
"You think there was an ulterior motive?" Mr. Green asked. "It's possible, I suppose. I just always thought she was quite the busybody and took the advantage to get up-close and personal with ol' Perkins."
"Well, we think that's everything. Thank you, Mr. Green."
"Thank you, Inspector, Constable," he bowed his head respectively for both of them, "It's been a pleasure to help."
He strode out of the room, quietly closing the door.
"Okay then, let's see Mrs. Peacock," Inspector Pry said.
Ballroom
10:05pm
Mrs. Peacock, her naval blue handbag clutched in her claws tightly, seated herself near the detectives. She carefully put the bag down next to her. She adjusted her greying hair and smiled. "I -- I really don't see what I can do to help with this investigation, Inspectors. I -- I really don't know anything at all. I was in the -- the library all evening. All the women can back me up."
She giggled nervously, fluttering her eyelids manically.
"Mrs. Peacock, we know where you were after dinner. Everyone backs up that you were in the library, taking part in the seance."
"Indeed I was, yes!"
"We'd like to ask you," said Chart, "why you changed seats during dinner?"
She giggled much more now. "Silly of me, really. I'm just big old nosy parker. I thought I'd just sit next to him."
"Because you're nosy?"
"Yes."
"Doesn't seem very convincing, Mrs. Peacock," Pry said with a smirk.
"But that's the only reason --"
"You are aware that Mr. Perkins was drugged before he was killed later? We suspect whatever it was, was administered at some point during dinner," explained Chart.
"Drugged?"
"Heavily, Mrs. Peacock." Pry said this, with iron-faced disapproval.
"Oh dear. That makes matters worse, doesn't it?" she whimpered. "I just thought he was strangled. It was with his own tie, I hear?"
"Yes, that's right."
"How brutish."
Pry agreed. So did Chart.
"If that's all --"
"Yes, for now, thank you, Mrs. Peacock. We're nearly done. If we could ask you just to remain in the lounge for a bit longer where everyone's being searched --"
"Searched?"
"We believe the killer took something after killing Perkins," Chart explained, once again.
"That's not a problem is it?" Pry asked, leaning forward with shimmering eyes.
"No, not at all. I'm just not a fan of being felt-up by energetic young men."
She got up, took her bag, and headed for the door. She stopped near a cheap-looking marble bust of Mozart. "What a beautiful piece," she said, randomly.
Chart and Pry looked at her with apprehensive eyes as she left.
"Are we in agreement that she's complete nut-ball?"
"For once, yes, we are."
Ballroom
10:10pm
Monsieur Brunette was the penultimate interviewee. He came in and modestly took a seat with an air of redemption. He looked as though he'd been quite shaken, disgusted earlier but had since composed himself to an acceptable state to be interviewed.
"Let's cut to the chase, shall we, Monsieur Brunette?" Pry said. "We know about your's and Peach's fun time upstairs."
"She told you?" he asked, in his usual soft voice.
"Blurted it out soon enough. Cried like a baby, infact."
"You better not have traumatized her! She's a very fragile young lady."
"As we're sure you already know. Listen, Brunette, can you clarify that you and her spent all evening up there?"
"Not all evening. I mean, we spent a bit of time in here. Then we went upstairs. What with Miss Perkins' screams, we soon hurried back downstairs the best we could."
"It matches," Chart whispered in Pry's ear.
"Did you see anybody? Anything suspicious?"
"Non. Nobody came upstairs."
"Where can we reach you, if need be?"
"I live in the apartment block near here. Apartment number 8."
"Thank you, Monsieur. That'll be all...for now."
The Frenchman trailed out, leaving Pry and Chart to re-check their notepads.
Ballroom
10:15pm
Mrs. White was the final interviewee and she entered with certain trumpiness. "It's about time," she said as took her seat, "I've been waiting for over an hour. Trust the help to be the last two interviewed. And of course, I, being the woman, as well as help, will be last. How strictly pompous of you both." She folded her thin arms and sat with an attitude for the rest of the examination.
"Mrs. White," smiled Pry, cheekily, "We understand you were in the seance all evening, is that correct?"
"Yes."
"What happened during dinner?" Chart questioned.
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"The food was horrible, the atmosphere awkward, it was all rather tedious, at best. Penny went off before everyone else, Peacock took her place. That was it. That's all that happened. I didn't see anyone drug Perkins' food or drink, either."
"How do you know he was drugged?" the Constable asked.
"Quentin told me."
"You are the Doctor's housekeeper, aren't you?"
"Housekeeper, secretary, valet, maid, butler, butt-wiper, yes. I take care of him and the manor reasonably well, if I do say so myself."
"Did you know Mr. Perkins at all? Did you know of any enemies he may have had?"
"No. But he obviously must've had one..."
"That'll be all. Goodbye and thank you, Mrs. White."
"Hmph!" she got up and stormed out.
Lounge
10:25pm
It was ten minutes later when they were all given the all-clear for then. They prepared themselves for departure with extreme uneasiness and a seeping air of mourning and fear constantly suffocated them all. It was decided that Miss Perkins would be best to spend the night at a hotel over in Estherbridge. They each left, sad, devestated...relieved?
To be continued...
Ballroom
10:00pm
Mr. Green was ordered in next. He came in, arms swinging from side to side and slumped himself down, throwing an arm over the back of the sofa, and picking up one of his legs so he could fold it over the other.
"Hello, Mr. Green," the Inspector said politely. "You know, what with all the Doctors, Professor, Colonel's and Sergeant's around this place, it's nice to have a normal mister man for a change." He chuckled, lighting a cigar. He offered the green-suited man one and he obliged with a smile. Chart declined; he didn't smoke.
"So we understand you were in the billiard room for some time in the evening, after dinner?"
"That's correct," he answered, blowing a pillow of grey smoke. "All us men were playing snooker, poker, the likes. It was quite fun until --"
"Until Joseph Boddy came in and left soon after," Pry knew the story well now.
"Exactly. The Doctor followed him out. It didn't look as though he were returning so the Colonel and I dabbled in that seance in the room next door."
"The library," Chart commented.
"We understand the lights were off by the time you entered?"
"Correct again." He chuckled, "You have done your homework."
"Did you see anyone leave the library at all?"
Green gasped, mockingly. "You mean am I going to set anyone up?" He laughed again, his cigar dangling from his fingers. "You reckon someone snuck out, killed Perkins and came back?"
"We're trying to explore all possibilities, yes, Mr. Green."
"No, I didn't see anyone. Or hear anyone - if that was going to be your next question."
"Could you tell us anything about Perkins? So far...we don't know that much." It wasn't a lie. More of a half-lie.
"He seemed very edgy over dinner this evening. It was under my assumption the man had always suffered from nerves but it was full-swing tonight."
"What do you mean?"
Green blew out more smoke, creating quite the cloud above their heads. "It was just...he was shaking while he ate. I hadn't dined with him all that much so I couldn't really tell if he was always like that but I don't think he was. He seemed most upset, also, at the prospect of having Mrs. Peacock sat next to him."
Constable Chart scattered back the pages to look at the seating arrangement for dinner. "Yeah, we heard she had moved places to be next to him."
Green nodded, making noises of assent. "After Penelope had gone -- curious girl -- she took no hesitation in pinching her seat."
"And why would that be, I wonder?"
"You think there was an ulterior motive?" Mr. Green asked. "It's possible, I suppose. I just always thought she was quite the busybody and took the advantage to get up-close and personal with ol' Perkins."
"Well, we think that's everything. Thank you, Mr. Green."
"Thank you, Inspector, Constable," he bowed his head respectively for both of them, "It's been a pleasure to help."
He strode out of the room, quietly closing the door.
"Okay then, let's see Mrs. Peacock," Inspector Pry said.
Ballroom
10:05pm
Mrs. Peacock, her naval blue handbag clutched in her claws tightly, seated herself near the detectives. She carefully put the bag down next to her. She adjusted her greying hair and smiled. "I -- I really don't see what I can do to help with this investigation, Inspectors. I -- I really don't know anything at all. I was in the -- the library all evening. All the women can back me up."
She giggled nervously, fluttering her eyelids manically.
"Mrs. Peacock, we know where you were after dinner. Everyone backs up that you were in the library, taking part in the seance."
"Indeed I was, yes!"
"We'd like to ask you," said Chart, "why you changed seats during dinner?"
She giggled much more now. "Silly of me, really. I'm just big old nosy parker. I thought I'd just sit next to him."
"Because you're nosy?"
"Yes."
"Doesn't seem very convincing, Mrs. Peacock," Pry said with a smirk.
"But that's the only reason --"
"You are aware that Mr. Perkins was drugged before he was killed later? We suspect whatever it was, was administered at some point during dinner," explained Chart.
"Drugged?"
"Heavily, Mrs. Peacock." Pry said this, with iron-faced disapproval.
"Oh dear. That makes matters worse, doesn't it?" she whimpered. "I just thought he was strangled. It was with his own tie, I hear?"
"Yes, that's right."
"How brutish."
Pry agreed. So did Chart.
"If that's all --"
"Yes, for now, thank you, Mrs. Peacock. We're nearly done. If we could ask you just to remain in the lounge for a bit longer where everyone's being searched --"
"Searched?"
"We believe the killer took something after killing Perkins," Chart explained, once again.
"That's not a problem is it?" Pry asked, leaning forward with shimmering eyes.
"No, not at all. I'm just not a fan of being felt-up by energetic young men."
She got up, took her bag, and headed for the door. She stopped near a cheap-looking marble bust of Mozart. "What a beautiful piece," she said, randomly.
Chart and Pry looked at her with apprehensive eyes as she left.
"Are we in agreement that she's complete nut-ball?"
"For once, yes, we are."
Ballroom
10:10pm
Monsieur Brunette was the penultimate interviewee. He came in and modestly took a seat with an air of redemption. He looked as though he'd been quite shaken, disgusted earlier but had since composed himself to an acceptable state to be interviewed.
"Let's cut to the chase, shall we, Monsieur Brunette?" Pry said. "We know about your's and Peach's fun time upstairs."
"She told you?" he asked, in his usual soft voice.
"Blurted it out soon enough. Cried like a baby, infact."
"You better not have traumatized her! She's a very fragile young lady."
"As we're sure you already know. Listen, Brunette, can you clarify that you and her spent all evening up there?"
"Not all evening. I mean, we spent a bit of time in here. Then we went upstairs. What with Miss Perkins' screams, we soon hurried back downstairs the best we could."
"It matches," Chart whispered in Pry's ear.
"Did you see anybody? Anything suspicious?"
"Non. Nobody came upstairs."
"Where can we reach you, if need be?"
"I live in the apartment block near here. Apartment number 8."
"Thank you, Monsieur. That'll be all...for now."
The Frenchman trailed out, leaving Pry and Chart to re-check their notepads.
Ballroom
10:15pm
Mrs. White was the final interviewee and she entered with certain trumpiness. "It's about time," she said as took her seat, "I've been waiting for over an hour. Trust the help to be the last two interviewed. And of course, I, being the woman, as well as help, will be last. How strictly pompous of you both." She folded her thin arms and sat with an attitude for the rest of the examination.
"Mrs. White," smiled Pry, cheekily, "We understand you were in the seance all evening, is that correct?"
"Yes."
"What happened during dinner?" Chart questioned.
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"The food was horrible, the atmosphere awkward, it was all rather tedious, at best. Penny went off before everyone else, Peacock took her place. That was it. That's all that happened. I didn't see anyone drug Perkins' food or drink, either."
"How do you know he was drugged?" the Constable asked.
"Quentin told me."
"You are the Doctor's housekeeper, aren't you?"
"Housekeeper, secretary, valet, maid, butler, butt-wiper, yes. I take care of him and the manor reasonably well, if I do say so myself."
"Did you know Mr. Perkins at all? Did you know of any enemies he may have had?"
"No. But he obviously must've had one..."
"That'll be all. Goodbye and thank you, Mrs. White."
"Hmph!" she got up and stormed out.
Lounge
10:25pm
It was ten minutes later when they were all given the all-clear for then. They prepared themselves for departure with extreme uneasiness and a seeping air of mourning and fear constantly suffocated them all. It was decided that Miss Perkins would be best to spend the night at a hotel over in Estherbridge. They each left, sad, devestated...relieved?
To be continued...
