Episode 1.01 “Hall Doors Open”
“Out of my way! Out of my way!” Madame Rose shrieks as she charges down the staircase. Her tiny red shoes thump against the Persian rug lining the Hall floor.
“Madame Rose!” Mr. Ash, the butler, stops her by taking her by the shoulders.
“It’s always order and sophistication with you, Mr. Ash.” Madame Rose says with, holding her head with distress, “But I must tell you something. I saw something terrible!”
“Have a seat,” Mr. Ash pulls a hall chair away from the wall for Madame Rose to sit down on, “Tell me what has you bothered in a such a way.”
“The grinning, dark, hooded omen rode by on a white horse. Death, himself! And he rode past the gates of Blackwell Grange.” Madame Rose points towards the double doors leading outside to the Garden. She glances up at the clock on the mantel and quickly stands up, as if running very late.
“Surely you must have had a lot of things on your mind and imagined such an alarming scenario.” Mr. Ash says with reassurance, putting his arm out to prevent the startled woman from dashing off to the front doors.
“I saw Death and he came to claim someone here at the party this weekend.” Madame Rose says, her voice becoming weak and fragile as if she is ready to cry, “The guests are all arriving today to celebrate with my dear, foolish brother.”
“Your brother’s party is a special occasion!” Mr. Ash says, “His friends are just coming back for a reunion and a lovely boating trip.”
“I have to get out of this house before the guests arrive with their bad blood and wrongful upbringings.” Madame Rose pushes Mr. Ash’s arm aside and waddles off to the front doors, her balance is clearly unstable.
“You’ve not even packed any luggage.” Mr. Ash clucks as if he is talking to a small child, “If you are truly this upset, we must at least pack some clothing and set you up at a nearby hotel. Not the Seafront, too expensive. Something nice with room service though.”
“You’ll help me pack?” Madame Rose turns her head to look back towards the swooping marble staircases, which frame the Ballroom entrance with elegance and grace. It is almost inviting to Madame Rose.
“There is absolutely no reason why I would not help you pack. If you are this insistent on leaving Blackwell Grange before the party, I will gladly assist you in your grand escape. I am a butler after all, and I am here to serve and make life easier for the family.” He gives her a warm smile.
Inside the Billiard Room of a Pub along the railroad, south of Hampshire's countryside, Colonel Michael Mustard leans closer to the billiard table and aims his shot.
“You bet a handsome price, old man.” A rich, pompous, young boy boasts as the pivotal point in their game approaches. The young lad is carefree and a bit over-confident in the presence of the Colonel.
“I can make this shot.” Colonel Mustard says narrowing his eyes, determinedly.
“Yes, I have no doubts,” The young lad says walking past Mustard, “However, on the other hand if you end up slipping and that black ball ends up going slightly to the right, I will walk away with what appears to be a great deal of money in your eyes, but looks like mere pennies to someone with my wealth.”
“Why, you unruly little brat,” Colonel Mustard slams his cue onto the table and grabs the young lad but the collar and presses his back against the wall. The young lad's air of pride and self-worth has not vanished by the abrupt altercation.
The young lad instead responds with authority, “Do you know who I am?” the boy spits
“A goddamned seventeen year old who never worked a day in his miserable life.” Colonel Mustard says squinting his left eye tightly around his monocle.
“I saw the invitation in your hand early when you arrived at the train station.” The boy says, “You are going to my uncle’s boating party. I’m John Boddy.”
Colonel Mustard sets the young lad down and dejectedly turns towards the billiard table.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you!” Mr. Boddy orders indignantly, “Did no one teach you how to address a family with noble background.”
“No more noble than the silver spoon placed in your spoiled mouth.” Colonel Mustard barks
“You do not like being the little man, do you Colonel? Worthless...” Mr. Boddy shakes his head and walks casually around the table.
“How much has your uncle told you about me?” asks Colonel Mustard
“You were my uncle’s childhood friend.” Mr. Boddy says, “You used to do everything together. Until your father died however. Sudden, unexpected. Military reasons.”
“I know what happened.” Colonel Mustard says trying not to relive it
“You became so angry,” Mr. Boddy continues the story, much to the colonel’s anger, “You were so bloodthirsty on becoming the best war hero, to avenge your father you gave up friendship, love, and half your life. You just went for the guns and the blood. I bet your father would have been so proud of the war criminal he raised. I hear you were a prisoner of war for a while. You must be pretty messed up from the torture they used on prisoners.”
Colonel Mustard angrily grips the side of the billiard table.
“You gave away your entire life for your father who was already dead, yet you couldn't find my own living and breathing father and mother when there were missing. And all you have to look back on is a bunch of worthless metals, dead friends, and a gambling and alcohol addiction.” Mr. Boddy says trying to hold back any signs of emotion
Colonel Mustard lunges for the young Mr. Boddy, but two other men from the pub step in during the height of the altercation and hold back Colonel Mustard.
“Take your money back Colonel.” Mr. Boddy says, “You’ll need it more than I will. You need to pay for the liquor that courses through your blood.”
“Brat!” Colonel Mustard spits, grabbing a bottle of whiskey from the bar and pouring himself a drink. The bartender crosses his arms.
“Oh and Colonel,” Mr. Boddy turns towards him, “Feel free to share my private train compartment with me on our way to Blackwell Grange. I would love the company. I'm sure you would appreciate saving yourself the embarrassment of having everyone walk by you in the aisles.”
“Loathsome brat!” Colonel Mustard barks as Mr. Boddy exits the Pub to the Train Station across the road.
In the back of the Rolls Royce, speeding along the wooded forest, north of Hampshire, Mrs. Patricia Peacock sips from her glass of water as she observes her step daughter and tennis coach struggling to keep their hands from touching. The tennis coach eagerly feels for the slender thigh in his reach and pinches it teasingly.
“Must you two move around so much?” Mrs. Peacock asks drying a spot of water on her blouse, “You spilled my water.”
“Sorry, stepmother,” Miss Vivienne Scarlet says as she turns back towards the young, blonde-haired man sitting to her side. She smiles and lays her head against the back of the seat, looking up at him flirtatiously.
“Chandler,” Mrs. Peacock turns to the tennis coach, “The only reason I invited you as my guest to this party was for you to offer your tennis services to the party guests or perhaps play something on one of their pianos. I did not invite you along so that you so that you could spend the trip schtuping my step daughter.”
The tennis coach, Mr. Chandler Clay turns red in the face. He turns back to Miss Scarlet with an apologetic smile. His bright eyes and confident smile have Miss Scarlet lost in his charm.
“Mr. Clay and I aren’t doing any of that,” Miss Scarlet flicks him on the nose seductively, “We are just really good friends, that’s all.”
“I assure you, Mrs. Peacock, your stepdaughter and I are no more than really good friends.” Mr. Clay says folding his hands politely on his lap.
“I don’t care what you two do,” Mrs. Peacock says closing her eyes, “I’d just like to not think about it, so do whatever you do out of my sight! Mostly I would like to avoid thinking about it all together.”
“How much longer till we get there?” asks Miss Scarlet rolling her head over in bored frustration
“It should be a little while up the mountains and then just through the gates.” Mrs. Peacock leans forward in her seat as the dark grey bricks come into sight and anxiousness fills her body, “If memory serves me right, it is only a ten minute drive from the base of the hill to Blackwell Grange.”
In the Kitchen of Blackwell Grange, an elderly, short, hunchbacked housekeeper with frizzy red hair comes from the back door carrying a wooden bucket filled with fish. She wears a brown shoe on her right foot and a black shoe on her left foot. Hand-sewn patches cover her white apron.
“Mrs. White!” Mr. Ash gasps in disgust, pinching his nose, “The guests are going to be arriving all throughout this afternoon, what are you thinking stinking up the kitchen like this?”
“You have no need to worry,” Mrs. White smiles in complete, senile obliviousness to the butler’s outrage, “I’ll have ‘em fried up and laid out with some wheat toast and scrambled eggs.”
“Yes, it is breakfast time now, Mrs. White,” Mr. Ash says, “But breakfast food might not be the best idea for those who will be arriving throughout the afternoon and early evening.”
“Then some nice sandwiches.” Mrs. White smiles a happy smile and withdraws a large butcher’s cleaver from the drawer. She begins the removal of each fish head with a loud…
*CHOP*
“Madame Rose won’t be staying this weekend.” Mr. Ash informs her
*CHOP*
“So you won’t need to do her bedroom each morning or prepare a place at the table for her.” Mr. Ash says
*CHOP*
“Mrs. White are you listening to me?” Mr. Ash asks in held back frustration
“Yes, yes of course, Reggie.” Mrs. White says, “You remind me of my dear old Winslow. He was always worrying left and right about this and that. He never made quite that much sense. Now, you leave everything to me. I will take care of our guests needs. You just carry the heavy suitcases.”
“Mrs. White, no fish.” Mr. Ash says
“But Rusty and I caught them this morning.” Mrs. White frowns, “We went out at dawn and sat by the rocks with our fishing poles.”
“No fish.” Mr. Ash says, turning to exit the Kitchen, “And your shoes don’t match!”
“Of course they don’t match.” Mrs. White chuckles, “I’m color-blind.”
Many, many miles south of Blackwell Grange, a pain-filled scream echoes throughout the empty warehouse near the train station and pub. A man is shivering in fear with a cloth sack over his head. He is on his knees, his hands trembling and legs shaking.
“Where is the money?” Mr. Green asks in a thick, Italian-American accent.
“Please, you’ve got the wrong guy.” The shivering man trembles, turning his covered head side to side.
“That isn’t gonna work on me.” Mr. Green says shaking his head and putting his hands behind his neck.
“Please, I know nothing about anything you are talking about. I know nothing about money or any of the people you mentioned.” the man says, sobbing through the cloth.
“You think playing dumb is gonna work on me? You are talking to Lyman Green!” Mr. Green pulls out a Knife with a thin, gleaming blade.
“I have a family. I am not the guy you are looking for.” He begs lowering his head and sitting on the floor, lower and further from the mysterious foreboding man with the knife.
Mr. Green pulls off the cloth sack and stares at the man with hesitation.
“You honestly do not know a single thing I am talking about?” Mr. Green looks down at the knife and picks to pick at his fingernails with it.
“I swear to God, I am innocent. You have the wrong guy.” The man is sweating and breathing heavy, “Please, I need water.”
“I don’t like having to beg for the truth,” Mr. Green says, ignores his request for water and placing the blade to his throat.
“I don’t know anything!” the man closes his eyes in fear
“Okay, thank you.” Mr. Green says calmly. He takes a deep breath and exhales with a sigh. Without a blink, he flicks the blade across the man’s throat. The man opens his mouth in distress but no sound escapes his lips. The shivering, convulsing man hits the floor with a wet thud as blood begins to pool around the floor.
“Sir,” a large henchman comes into the warehouse, “That wasn’t John Boddy.”
“Oh,” Mr. Green chuckles, “That guy was telling the truth afterall. I figured he was telling the truth, but he already saw my face. Where is Boddy?”
“Boarding the train to Blackwell Grange.” The henchman says, “Are you sure we want him dead?”
“Strict orders. But since he is heading to Blackwell Grange, I suppose I could pay old Hugh a surprise visit.” Mr. Green laughs, “I’ll deal with Boddy once I am there at Blackwell Grange and blame it on the maid. Maids are always killing these days. Maids and butlers. Let’s both hope henchmen don’t make it on that list.”
In the Conservatory of Blackwell Grange, Professor Peter Plum examines the brown spots on a lush green leaf underneath a magnifying glass. His hair is combed neatly in effort to cover his badly spot. His glasses are round and thick, creating the illusion that his eyes are huge. His bow-tie is dangling loosely to the left and ink is dripping all over his shirt from the pen in his pocket, but he seems content in his findings.
“Only six hours,” Professor Plum checks his notebook and pocket watch to the time recorded and time previously marked. He glances to the record player across the Conservatory and realizes that it has stopped playing a good while ago. His tea is also cold on the side table. Professor Plum dumps the cold tea into a wooden plant box and proceeds to pace the room aimlessly, as if waiting for someone or something to happen. Presently the door to the Hall flings open and a scantily clad blonde woman, dressed in a French Maid’s outfit enters the room.
“Professor!” the maid exclaims , “Must you do your experimenting in here? I can smell the poison you poured all over that perfect leaf from the Dining Room.”
“I’m testing the time lapse this poisonous affect has on the leaves of this banana plant.” Professor Plum says, “Only six hours and it’s already withered to crisp, dead fibers.”
“Couldn’t you do this out on the terrace?” Yvette asks in her common, thick French accent, with broken English, “Mr. Ash is going on and on about the guests arriving all throughout today and he wouldn’t want anything dangerous lying about. A poisoned plant is not good when there are overnight visitors milling about the house as if it were their own. Do you plan to lock up the Conservatory and keep it to yourself?”
“I did not realize that was an option. Besides, it’s only a drop on a leaf every six hours. ” Professor Plum turns the plant in question around, “Here, I’ll hide the damage leaves so that the guests won’t even see it.”
“You are silly, professor.” Yvette says tickling his nose with her feather duster, “I do not care, I was only acting the part in case anyone was listening. No one appears to be around.” Yvette begins to unbutton the tight buttons on the front of her maid’s uniform.
“Yvette,” Professor Plum chuckles nervously, “Not here, what if Mr. Ash or my brother were to find out.”
“Then I would lose my job.” Yvette jokes, “They will get very jealous, but they will enjoy the show.”
“Here,” he leads her over to the corner of the room where the wallpaper fades to rough brick and the vines that frame the ceiling of the room hang lower, “I found this the other day.”
He moves the vines and presses on the wall revealing a secret passageway.
“A house this old must have dozens of passageways!” Yvette exclaims in delight, leaning forward into the dark, damp narrow space between the walls.
“It leads to the Lounge.” Professor Plum says leading her inside. Yvette begins kissing him as the passage door closes.
In the Study of Blackwell Grange, Dr. Hugh Black stands at the windows with his arms behind his back. He is looking out onto the stately green lawn. An elderly gardener trims the hedges around the garden.
“You promise you are alright?” a middle aged blonde woman asks sipping tea from the armchair in front of the Study desk.
“I am fine, Amelia, my sister is just very superstitious.” Dr. Black says walking from the window to an antique display case, “It is not uncommon for her to chase after her visions and premonitions. She goes on psychic tangents all the time.”
Amelia Dove, Dr. Black’s fiancé, leans forward and stands up from her seat, “Are you sure we can’t back out of the idea of a boating trip?” asks Miss Dove
“Darling, I know you are nervous around the water, but once we are out on the sea, you will feel like you are in a floating palace.” Dr. Black says, walking around the desk and taking her tea cup from her hands. He places it on the desk then stands in front of her. He smiles slowly.
“Couldn’t we just stay here?” Miss Dove says, looking down at the green and yellow threads in the carpet, “The gardens, rooms, people will keep the guests entertained.”
“Amelia,” Dr. Black chuckles shaking his head, “It is not proper for a host to change the party plans on the very day the guests are arriving.”
“The colonel loves to play billiards!” Miss Dove says, wringing her hands with anxiousness, “There is no billiard table in the yacht.”
“Everything will be perfect.” Dr. Black says kissing her on the forehead, “Give it a chance. You’d be surprised at how soothing the water can actually be.”
“You don’t think I can sweet talk my way into impressing your friends into staying on land?” Miss Dove asks, looking up at him with a fake pout
“I’m sure they will all love you.” Dr. Black says ignoring her avid frustration. He chuckles and turns to the liquor cabinet in the corner, “I need to keep this under lock and key.”
“I’m sleeping with a life vest on once we get on that boat.” Miss Dove stands up and follows him over to the liquor cabinet.
“Whatever gets you on that boat with me.” Dr. Black pulls her into his arms with a laugh.
“Oh, Hugh! Are you sure we are ready to do this? I mean a romantic seaside vacation seems like such a big deal to me.” she squeals gleefully as Hugh begins to unbutton her blouse. She swats away his hand in discouragement, “Not here. What if Mr. Ash walks in.”
“At his age, I’m sure it would give him a heart attack.” Dr. Black says with lust in his eyes, “We have waited so long. The guests will not give us a chance to have any alone time.”
“Perhaps we should wait till our wedding night.” Miss Dove says, beginning to button up her blouse and walking back towards the chair, “You never seemed to have a problem with waiting before.”
“Of course not,” Dr. Black lets out a long sigh and turns towards her.
“Ahem,” Mr. Ash clears his throat from the Study doorway.
Miss Dove quickly finishes buttons up her shirt with her back towards Mr. Ash. Dr. Black locks the liquor cabinet and places the key in his pocket.
“I apologize for the intrusion, but Mrs. Peacock and her stepdaughter have just pulled through the gates.” The butler meekly replies
“Thank you, Mr. Ash.” Dr. Black replies.
Outside the front steps of Blackwell Grange, Mrs. Peacock steps out of her car with the assistance of her driver. She looks around the sky as the wind begins to bring the dark storm clouds closer. Miss Scarlet and Mr. Clay step out and look around the circular brick driveway. Miss Scarlet’s red skirt blows in the sudden breeze that picks up.
“I haven’t been here since I was a child.” Miss Scarlet says as she stares up at the intimidating mansion before her.
“It’s huge!” Mr. Clay turns around to look at the vast gardens and endless lawns.
“The Tennis Court is to the right.” Mrs. Peacock motions as they walk up to Mr. Ash, who waits on the front porch with open doors.
“Mr. Ash,” Mrs. Peacock holds out her hand
“It is wonderful to see you again.” Mr. Ash kisses her hand, “Miss Scarlet,” he nods to her.
“And this is our tennis coach.” Mrs. Peacock says, “For the days we are at the mansion before the boating departure, he will be happy to fulfill the tennis needs. I know the professor loves to play tennis.”
“He does indeed,” Mr. Ash smiles as they enter the Hall. Mrs. Peacock’s driver sets down their luggage in the entry way and tips his hat to Mr. Ash.
“Look at the size of that chandelier.” Mr. Clay says as he and Miss Scarlet walk further down the Hall together.
“Do I sense a romance between the two?” asks Mr. Ash
“I hope to god no.” Mrs. Peacock rolls her eyes
“I’m sorry to say Madame Rose will not be here.” Mr. Ash says
“I was hoping to have her help me out with a future problem.” Mrs. Peacock says disappointedly
“She fled to a hotel in town.” Mr. Ash says
“Could I visit her?” asks Mrs. Peacock
“I’m afraid she doesn’t wish to take any visitors.” Mr. Ash frowns
“Patricia!” Dr. Black comes from his Study with open arms to Mrs. Peacock
“Hugh, it’s so good to finally be here.” Mrs. Peacock smiles, “I’ve missed it so much.”
Miss Dove comes from the Study doorway meekly in the background.
“Ah,” Dr. Black takes her hand and leads her to Mrs. Peacock, “This is my darling fiancée, Amelia.”
“I’ve heard so much about you,” Mrs. Peacock says through a tight jaw, “It’s so great to finally meet you.”
“Thank you,” Miss Dove smiles
“You’ll have to tell me all about how terrible Hugh is treating you.” Mrs. Peacock chuckles rudely, “I’m just joking around. He is a great man. He tries his best.”
“Mrs. Peacock,” Miss Dove says seriously, “Hugh and I are perfectly fine together.”
“Of course you are, dear.” Mrs. Peacock says stepping towards the Lounge, “I’m going to help myself to a little morning champagne and fruit. I assume it’s laid out in the Lounge.”
“Right this way,” Mr. Ash leads her
“Vivienne, come.” Mrs. Peacock orders.
Miss Scarlet and Mr. Clay both head into the Lounge followed by Dr. Black. Miss Dove stares daggers at Mrs. Peacock.
In the Kitchen, Mrs. White has finished frying up all the fish and is placing the searing hot fillets on a metal platter.
“Perfect!” Mrs. White smiles as the back door opens and an elderly gardener with greying-red hair enters. He removes his filth cap and wipes his boots on the doormat.
“Morning, Rusty.” Mrs. White smiles as cheerfully as ever
“I see you fried up our lucky catch.” Rusty smiles, “It smells delicious.”
“I made you a plate,” Mrs. White motions to a white dish on the counter across the room, “Fried fish, scrambled eggs, and fried peppers.”
“Thank you, Mrs. White.” Rusty takes the plate and sits down.
“Madame Rose had a little incident last night if you didn’t hear?” Mrs. White begins to gossip
“What happened to the poor dear?” asks Rusty
“She saw a prophecy in her cards.” Mrs. White says, “Death is coming to Blackwell Grange.”
“Murder?” asks Rusty
“You haven’t seen anyone poking around back?” asks Mrs. White pointing a knife at Rusty
“No one at all, Mrs. White.” Rusty says
“Good,” Mrs. White smiles, “Because if someone found Mr. White, there would be a lot of awkward explaining to do.”
Rusty watches as Mrs. White resumes to throwing the fish heads onto the sizzling pan.
“Fish heads?” asks Rusty
“I think they are a wonderful treat.” Mrs. White smiles as she resume back to her cheery normal self.
In his private compartment, Mr. Boddy sits down and takes off his black, leather gloves. He looks out the window at the boring train station. Colonel Mustard moves the curtain and steps inside.
“You decided to join me?” Mr. Boddy chuckles picking up the complimentary magazine from the seat next to him.
“They gave you flowers.” Colonel Mustard nods to a small metal vase with flowers in it, “The damn thing will spill before the train starts.”
“The vase is stationary in this compartment.” Mr. Boddy says, “It is a complimentary custom to leave flowers when you are expecting a person of high standards.”
“I didn’t know who you were in the pub.” Colonel Mustard says, “I didn’t recognize you. You were only a boy last time I saw you. I haven’t seen you since…” Colonel Mustard’s voice trails off
“You could have found them.” Mr. Boddy says with tears welling up in his eyes, “You could have found my parents if you would have tried harder.”
“I did everything I could.” Colonel Mustard says, “Your uncle brought me back after a month in Egypt. I loved your mother.”
“Yes,” Mr. Boddy spits, “You loved my mother, that’s why you let her and my father die out there. You were jealous because you couldn’t have her, so you didn’t even try to look for them.”
“I tried.” Colonel Mustard barks, “Day and night I tried. You were always an ungrateful little bastards. You always had to have everything your way, and when we couldn’t get your parents back you didn’t let us morn. You didn’t have pity. You had anger because you didn’t get your damned way.”
“Get out!” Mr. Boddy screams, “Get out of my compartment.”
Colonel Mustard storms out and Mr. Boddy hunches forward and begins to cry hard. Tears roll down his face and splash into the carpet.
“You okay, kid?” a voice with a thick Italian-American accent asks from beside the curtain.
“Thank you,” Mr. Boddy composes himself, “But I do not need anything right now.”
The curtain opens and Mr. Green steps inside, “Ya mind if I give you a little advice?”
“On what particular topic?” asks Mr. Boddy as he listens
“Well, ya see, I overheard that little story with the colonel.” Mr. Green says with a shrug, “Don’t worry about it. It ain’t a big deal to me.”
“Who are you, and what is it that you want?” asks Mr. Boddy with annoyance
“I’m a friend of your Uncle Hugh’s.” Mr. Green says pulling out a cigar, “Mind if I smoke?”
Mr. Boddy motions for him to smoke.
“Want a cigar?” asks Mr. Green
“I perfect richer cigars.” Mr. Boddy says, “Continue, you know my Uncle.”
“I’m one of his…” Mr. Green pauses and exhales smoke thickly, “… business partners.”
“What business?” asks Mr. Boddy
“None of your business.” Mr. Green jokes and jabs his finger into Mr. Boddy’s side, “I’m just messing with ya, kid.”
“Are you headed to my Uncle’s reunion too?” Mr. Boddy asks
“Reunion?” Mr. Green says, “Hugh’s having a reunion and I wasn’t invited?”
“You weren’t invited yet you are heading there today?” asks Mr. Boddy
“I had a business reason to need to see him as soon as possible,” Mr. Green says, “Strange coincidence.”
“I should enjoy the company.” Mr. Boddy says resting his head wearily against the window.
Mr. Green stares at the boy and feels the knife in his pocket. He slowly begins to reach for it when the curtain opens.
“Colonel!” Mr. Green smiles holding his cigar near his lips
“Good to see you, old chap!” Colonel Mustard grabs his cigar and takes a puff of it
“Ah,” Mr. Green knocks Mr. Boddy’s arm, “You gotta watch out for the colonel. He got my favorite cigar.”
“I came in here to apologize, John.” Colonel Mustard nods to Mr. Boddy
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Mr. Boddy says
“What luck we caught the same train.” Colonel Mustard says puffing away at the expensive cigar
“Well it was more of a chance.” Mr. Green explains, “I’m actually just going to see Hugh on business, I have no idea he was having a little shindig this weekend.”
“What luck!” Colonel Mustard says, “You’ll be sure to be invited. We are going out in his yacht in a few days for a week long boating trip!”
“Well, I’m almost offended I wasn’t invited.” Mr. Green laughs
“We’ll have to get the Professor and Rusty to play poker with us!” Colonel Mustard says, “All four of us haven’t had a good night since Mrs. Peacock married Sir Matthew.”
“Will you two please be quiet?” Mr. Boddy snaps, “This is my private compartment and if you two are going to share it with me, I want complete silence.”
In the Lounge of Blackwell Grange, Mrs. Peacock swallows a grape followed by a mouthful of her mimosa.
“The peaches and cherries are simply perfect for this time of the year.” Dr. Black says, “I got them from fresh from the produce this morning.”
“I’ll have to try them.” Miss Scarlet says as Mr. Clay returns to the sofa with a glass of champagne for her, “Thank you Chandler.”
He sits down next to her as the large painting in the corner of the Lounge rotates. Professor Plum and Yvette exit into the Lounge.
“Oh my word!” Mrs. Peacock puts her hand over her chest.
“Hugh, I didn’t know about that.” Miss Dove says grasping on to Hugh’s arm.
Dr. Black chuckles, “Me and my siblings used to play in the passages all the time. We would play hide and seek, or tag.”
“Are there more?” asks Professor Plum
“One in my Study that leads to the kitchen.” Dr. Black says
“Really?” Miss Scarlet asks, “I find that odd that there would be one to a Kitchen.”
“Apparently my great grandfather, who build this mansion, was having an affair with his housekeeper. He made a way they could both meet up for a little romp in the hay.” Dr. Black says
Professor Plum fixes his bowtie, “We found this one in the Conservatory.”
“I prefer the doors that were meant to be walked through.” Miss Dove chuckles nervously, “I don’t want to step foot in that creepy, cobweb filled dungeon.”
“She doesn’t like the cellar either.” Dr. Black says, “On our third date I brought her back to the mansion, and while I built a fire in the Library I asked her to select any bottle from the wine storage. After ten minutes or so she didn’t come back so I went to find her. She was standing at the top of the staircase still trying to find the light switch. I knew in that moment she was so timid and gentle, that I felt truly, 100% in love with her.”
“That’s so sweet.” Miss Scarlet smiles subtly touching Chandler’s leg with her hand. He notices and smiles.
Mrs. Peacock bites down hard as she swallows the remainder of her drink.
In the Dining Room, Mr. Ash finishes setting out a plate for each chair. Mrs. White rolls a serving cart through the door leading to the Kitchen and begins to set various dishes on the buffet.
“Mrs. White!” Mr. Ash shouts as the smell of fried fish reaches his nose, “I said no fish!”
“Oh, I forgot.” Mrs. White chuckles innocently, “I kept trying to dice peppers and I kept noticing the fish bucket so I figured I was supposed to be frying them. You know, my memory isn’t as good as it once was.”
“Mrs. White,” Mr. Ash sighs, “Why don’t you try to let Yvette help you in the Kitchen more? That’s why she’s here, to learn how to be a good maid.”
“Okay, Reggie,” Mrs. White pats him on the shoulder, “I think breakfast is ready.”
“Give Yvette a chance.” Mr. Ash says.
Mr. Ash goes out into the hall to see Nurse Silver helping a small boy, aged ten, down the staircase.
“Master Dove,” Mr. Ash says
“Is mother at breakfast?” the boy asks
“Let’s have a seat in there,” Nurse Silver says, “The guests will be coming in for breakfast.”
“Breakfast is served!” Mr. Ash announces from the Lounge doorway as Nurse Silver and young Master Dove enter the Dining Room. Dr. Black, Miss Dove, Mrs. Peacock, Miss Scarlet, Professor Plum, and Mr. Clay all exit the Lounge. Yvette steps over to Mr. Ash’s side.
“Go check on Mrs. White.” Mr. Ash says to the girl.
“Everyone this is my soon-to-be step son, Fivel.” Dr. Black introduces the adorable young boy, “And this is his Nanny, Nurse Silver.”
“Constantine.” Nurse Silver introduces herself.
“How do you do.” Mrs. Peacock extends a hand.
“Mrs. White has prepared a lovely fried fish dish.” Mr. Ash says, “Freshly caught fish, too, I might add.”
“It smells delicious.” Mr. Clay says taking a seat
“This is Mr. Clay,” Dr. Black introduces Mr. Clay to Nurse Silver, “He is here to play tennis with the interested guests. I know you were curious about playing tennis, perhaps Mr. Clay could show you a thing or two.”
“I would love to give it a try.” Nurse Silver says
“Is the colonel coming?” asks Mrs. Peacock
“Yes his train should arrive before dinner.” Dr. Black says, “My nephew John is coming also.”
“I haven’t seen John in so long.” Mrs. Peacock says
“John is going to be my cousin as soon as mother and Hugh get married.” Fivel says smiling, “Madame Rose says that John is going to be bringing something incredible to tell us.”
“Fivel,” Miss Dove corrects her son, “I told you not to talk with Madame Rose unless I’m around.”
“She’s our resident psychic.” Dr. Black chuckles, “My dear sister decided to take some vacation time in a nearby hotel and spa. She hasn’t been feeling well and didn’t want to be around too many people.” He lies, “She was sorry that she couldn’t go out onto the water.”
“I wish I could get out of going on the water.” Miss Dove chuckles
“You don’t love the sea?” asks Mrs. Peacock
“I prefer watching it from the land.” Miss Dove says, “I am terrified of boats and drowning. I never learned how to swim.”
“With the size of this swimming pool here, we should teach her.” Professor Plum says to his step-brother, Hugh.
“Yes,” Dr. Black’s mood changes as soon as his step-brother spoke.
“I’ll be fine.” Miss Dove says, “I just need to stop worrying myself.”
“I can swim,” Fivel announces cheerful
“Hush, don’t speak so loudly.” Nurse Silver corrects the boy
“I bet you can swim really fast.” Mr. Clay joins in conversation with the boy
“I love jumping in.” Fivel laughs
“You’ll have to ask your Nanny if you can swim today.” Mr. Clay chuckles
“I heard it is going to storm.” Nurse Silver says shrugging, “Sorry, Fivel, maybe tomorrow you and Mr. Clay can swim.”
“Chandler,” Miss Dove speaks out, “I didn’t realize you were good with children.”
“I have two younger brothers.” Mr. Clay says, “I was always good at entertaining.”
“That will be good to know. I’m sure Nurse Silver would like to spend a couple days off.” Miss Dove says, “If you don’t mind that is.”
“I love kids.” Mr. Clay smiles
Miss Scarlet reaches under the table and happily rubs his leg.
“You’ll have to settle down and find the right girl to raise a family with,” Nurse Silver smiles staring into his eyes.
Miss Scarlet’s hand moves up, startling Chandler.
“Yes,” Chandler smiles
“Has anyone heard of the rare parrot flower?” Professor Plum speaks up
“I doubt the guests wish to hear a scientifically boring explanation.” Dr. Black dismissed him
“I’m very curious about your flower, Professor,” Mrs. Peacock says, “You will have to tell me all about it later.”
“Yes, in the Conservatory.” Professor Plum nods
“Mr. Clay,” Nurse Silver asks from across the table, “How long have you been working as a tennis instructor to Mrs. Peacock and Miss Scarlet?”
“About ten months.” Mr. Clay says
“He was such a prodigy I couldn’t resist sharing him with everyone at the reunion.” Mrs. Peacock says, “Who else is coming?”
“Only Colonel Mustard and my nephew,” Dr. Black smiles, “I tried to get my lawyer and his wife to come but they are in Monte Carlo.”
“I can’t remember the last time I was in Monte Carlo.” Mrs. Peacock says, “Wasn’t it the Christmas we went there and met Earl Gamboge?”
“I believe it was,” Dr. Black says thinking back, “We need to make a trip before winter.”
“I’ve never been,” Miss Dove smiles next to her fiancé.
“It’s truly a wonder to behold.” Mrs. Peacock smiles thinking back on her memories.
Miss Dove stares at Mrs. Peacock with repressed loathing. She takes her eyes off of Mrs. Peacock and onto the large brass candlestick on the table.
“Mrs. Peacock,” Miss Dove recovers, “I was hoping we could talk in the Library for a bit after breakfast. I’d love to get to know you.”
“That would be lovely.” Mrs. Peacock looks at her plate, “I’m nearly done eating. I feel like I’m ready to stretch my legs.”
“I’d love to see the Tennis Courts before it starts raining.”
“We can show you.” Nurse Silver says motioning to herself and Fivel.
“I would love to see them.” Miss Scarlet invites herself along
“I suppose I will check in with the train station and see if my nephew’s train as left yet.” Dr. Black says standing up, “I will be in the study.”
Mrs. Peacock and Miss Dove cross the Hall and enter the Library.
“Ah,” Mrs. Peacock inhales deeply, “I always loved the smell of this room. The paper, the old cigars and the scent of brandy.”
“It’s quite a beautiful room.” Miss Dove says
Mrs. Peacock begins to climb the book ladder, “I always loved this book.” She pulls a romance novel from a high shelf, “I read it every time I come to Blackwell Grange.”
“Feel free to take it to your room.” Miss Dove says
“I remember when Hugh and I bought that rug.” Mrs. Peacock points to the bear skin rug on the ground, “We were vacationing in Canada.”
“Mrs. Peacock,” Miss Dove stands up, trying to gain the courage to speak, “Hugh loves me.”
“Yes is suppose he does,” Mrs. Peacock says plainly
“Whatever history you and Hugh had is over. I am glad you two remained friends, but you cannot keep bringing up memories of when you and Hugh were together.”
“Why not?” Mrs. Peacock says, “Those were the happiest days of his life.”
“He asked me to marry him.” Miss Dove says hold out her hand
“He asked me to marry him, also.” Mrs. Peacock says
“But you didn’t.” Miss Dove says
“No I didn’t,” Mrs. Peacock says, “And I’ll tell you why – Hugh loves to please women. He loves different women. He will enver be satisfied. Hugh can never settle down with one person. Hugh loves the flavors of the world.”
“You are lying.” Miss Dove says
“He’s probably getting someone else on the side right now.” Mrs. Peacock says
“You are trying to ruin my trust in him.” Miss Dove says, “It won’t work. I love him and trust him with all my heart. He would never sleep around.”
“Suit yourself.” Mrs. Peacock says, “It was great to getting to know you, by the way. I feel I must make my way outside. It got a little stuffy in here. And to think, I used to love this room so much.”
To Be Continued…
“Madame Rose!” Mr. Ash, the butler, stops her by taking her by the shoulders.
“It’s always order and sophistication with you, Mr. Ash.” Madame Rose says with, holding her head with distress, “But I must tell you something. I saw something terrible!”
“Have a seat,” Mr. Ash pulls a hall chair away from the wall for Madame Rose to sit down on, “Tell me what has you bothered in a such a way.”
“The grinning, dark, hooded omen rode by on a white horse. Death, himself! And he rode past the gates of Blackwell Grange.” Madame Rose points towards the double doors leading outside to the Garden. She glances up at the clock on the mantel and quickly stands up, as if running very late.
“Surely you must have had a lot of things on your mind and imagined such an alarming scenario.” Mr. Ash says with reassurance, putting his arm out to prevent the startled woman from dashing off to the front doors.
“I saw Death and he came to claim someone here at the party this weekend.” Madame Rose says, her voice becoming weak and fragile as if she is ready to cry, “The guests are all arriving today to celebrate with my dear, foolish brother.”
“Your brother’s party is a special occasion!” Mr. Ash says, “His friends are just coming back for a reunion and a lovely boating trip.”
“I have to get out of this house before the guests arrive with their bad blood and wrongful upbringings.” Madame Rose pushes Mr. Ash’s arm aside and waddles off to the front doors, her balance is clearly unstable.
“You’ve not even packed any luggage.” Mr. Ash clucks as if he is talking to a small child, “If you are truly this upset, we must at least pack some clothing and set you up at a nearby hotel. Not the Seafront, too expensive. Something nice with room service though.”
“You’ll help me pack?” Madame Rose turns her head to look back towards the swooping marble staircases, which frame the Ballroom entrance with elegance and grace. It is almost inviting to Madame Rose.
“There is absolutely no reason why I would not help you pack. If you are this insistent on leaving Blackwell Grange before the party, I will gladly assist you in your grand escape. I am a butler after all, and I am here to serve and make life easier for the family.” He gives her a warm smile.
Inside the Billiard Room of a Pub along the railroad, south of Hampshire's countryside, Colonel Michael Mustard leans closer to the billiard table and aims his shot.
“You bet a handsome price, old man.” A rich, pompous, young boy boasts as the pivotal point in their game approaches. The young lad is carefree and a bit over-confident in the presence of the Colonel.
“I can make this shot.” Colonel Mustard says narrowing his eyes, determinedly.
“Yes, I have no doubts,” The young lad says walking past Mustard, “However, on the other hand if you end up slipping and that black ball ends up going slightly to the right, I will walk away with what appears to be a great deal of money in your eyes, but looks like mere pennies to someone with my wealth.”
“Why, you unruly little brat,” Colonel Mustard slams his cue onto the table and grabs the young lad but the collar and presses his back against the wall. The young lad's air of pride and self-worth has not vanished by the abrupt altercation.
The young lad instead responds with authority, “Do you know who I am?” the boy spits
“A goddamned seventeen year old who never worked a day in his miserable life.” Colonel Mustard says squinting his left eye tightly around his monocle.
“I saw the invitation in your hand early when you arrived at the train station.” The boy says, “You are going to my uncle’s boating party. I’m John Boddy.”
Colonel Mustard sets the young lad down and dejectedly turns towards the billiard table.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you!” Mr. Boddy orders indignantly, “Did no one teach you how to address a family with noble background.”
“No more noble than the silver spoon placed in your spoiled mouth.” Colonel Mustard barks
“You do not like being the little man, do you Colonel? Worthless...” Mr. Boddy shakes his head and walks casually around the table.
“How much has your uncle told you about me?” asks Colonel Mustard
“You were my uncle’s childhood friend.” Mr. Boddy says, “You used to do everything together. Until your father died however. Sudden, unexpected. Military reasons.”
“I know what happened.” Colonel Mustard says trying not to relive it
“You became so angry,” Mr. Boddy continues the story, much to the colonel’s anger, “You were so bloodthirsty on becoming the best war hero, to avenge your father you gave up friendship, love, and half your life. You just went for the guns and the blood. I bet your father would have been so proud of the war criminal he raised. I hear you were a prisoner of war for a while. You must be pretty messed up from the torture they used on prisoners.”
Colonel Mustard angrily grips the side of the billiard table.
“You gave away your entire life for your father who was already dead, yet you couldn't find my own living and breathing father and mother when there were missing. And all you have to look back on is a bunch of worthless metals, dead friends, and a gambling and alcohol addiction.” Mr. Boddy says trying to hold back any signs of emotion
Colonel Mustard lunges for the young Mr. Boddy, but two other men from the pub step in during the height of the altercation and hold back Colonel Mustard.
“Take your money back Colonel.” Mr. Boddy says, “You’ll need it more than I will. You need to pay for the liquor that courses through your blood.”
“Brat!” Colonel Mustard spits, grabbing a bottle of whiskey from the bar and pouring himself a drink. The bartender crosses his arms.
“Oh and Colonel,” Mr. Boddy turns towards him, “Feel free to share my private train compartment with me on our way to Blackwell Grange. I would love the company. I'm sure you would appreciate saving yourself the embarrassment of having everyone walk by you in the aisles.”
“Loathsome brat!” Colonel Mustard barks as Mr. Boddy exits the Pub to the Train Station across the road.
In the back of the Rolls Royce, speeding along the wooded forest, north of Hampshire, Mrs. Patricia Peacock sips from her glass of water as she observes her step daughter and tennis coach struggling to keep their hands from touching. The tennis coach eagerly feels for the slender thigh in his reach and pinches it teasingly.
“Must you two move around so much?” Mrs. Peacock asks drying a spot of water on her blouse, “You spilled my water.”
“Sorry, stepmother,” Miss Vivienne Scarlet says as she turns back towards the young, blonde-haired man sitting to her side. She smiles and lays her head against the back of the seat, looking up at him flirtatiously.
“Chandler,” Mrs. Peacock turns to the tennis coach, “The only reason I invited you as my guest to this party was for you to offer your tennis services to the party guests or perhaps play something on one of their pianos. I did not invite you along so that you so that you could spend the trip schtuping my step daughter.”
The tennis coach, Mr. Chandler Clay turns red in the face. He turns back to Miss Scarlet with an apologetic smile. His bright eyes and confident smile have Miss Scarlet lost in his charm.
“Mr. Clay and I aren’t doing any of that,” Miss Scarlet flicks him on the nose seductively, “We are just really good friends, that’s all.”
“I assure you, Mrs. Peacock, your stepdaughter and I are no more than really good friends.” Mr. Clay says folding his hands politely on his lap.
“I don’t care what you two do,” Mrs. Peacock says closing her eyes, “I’d just like to not think about it, so do whatever you do out of my sight! Mostly I would like to avoid thinking about it all together.”
“How much longer till we get there?” asks Miss Scarlet rolling her head over in bored frustration
“It should be a little while up the mountains and then just through the gates.” Mrs. Peacock leans forward in her seat as the dark grey bricks come into sight and anxiousness fills her body, “If memory serves me right, it is only a ten minute drive from the base of the hill to Blackwell Grange.”
In the Kitchen of Blackwell Grange, an elderly, short, hunchbacked housekeeper with frizzy red hair comes from the back door carrying a wooden bucket filled with fish. She wears a brown shoe on her right foot and a black shoe on her left foot. Hand-sewn patches cover her white apron.
“Mrs. White!” Mr. Ash gasps in disgust, pinching his nose, “The guests are going to be arriving all throughout this afternoon, what are you thinking stinking up the kitchen like this?”
“You have no need to worry,” Mrs. White smiles in complete, senile obliviousness to the butler’s outrage, “I’ll have ‘em fried up and laid out with some wheat toast and scrambled eggs.”
“Yes, it is breakfast time now, Mrs. White,” Mr. Ash says, “But breakfast food might not be the best idea for those who will be arriving throughout the afternoon and early evening.”
“Then some nice sandwiches.” Mrs. White smiles a happy smile and withdraws a large butcher’s cleaver from the drawer. She begins the removal of each fish head with a loud…
*CHOP*
“Madame Rose won’t be staying this weekend.” Mr. Ash informs her
*CHOP*
“So you won’t need to do her bedroom each morning or prepare a place at the table for her.” Mr. Ash says
*CHOP*
“Mrs. White are you listening to me?” Mr. Ash asks in held back frustration
“Yes, yes of course, Reggie.” Mrs. White says, “You remind me of my dear old Winslow. He was always worrying left and right about this and that. He never made quite that much sense. Now, you leave everything to me. I will take care of our guests needs. You just carry the heavy suitcases.”
“Mrs. White, no fish.” Mr. Ash says
“But Rusty and I caught them this morning.” Mrs. White frowns, “We went out at dawn and sat by the rocks with our fishing poles.”
“No fish.” Mr. Ash says, turning to exit the Kitchen, “And your shoes don’t match!”
“Of course they don’t match.” Mrs. White chuckles, “I’m color-blind.”
Many, many miles south of Blackwell Grange, a pain-filled scream echoes throughout the empty warehouse near the train station and pub. A man is shivering in fear with a cloth sack over his head. He is on his knees, his hands trembling and legs shaking.
“Where is the money?” Mr. Green asks in a thick, Italian-American accent.
“Please, you’ve got the wrong guy.” The shivering man trembles, turning his covered head side to side.
“That isn’t gonna work on me.” Mr. Green says shaking his head and putting his hands behind his neck.
“Please, I know nothing about anything you are talking about. I know nothing about money or any of the people you mentioned.” the man says, sobbing through the cloth.
“You think playing dumb is gonna work on me? You are talking to Lyman Green!” Mr. Green pulls out a Knife with a thin, gleaming blade.
“I have a family. I am not the guy you are looking for.” He begs lowering his head and sitting on the floor, lower and further from the mysterious foreboding man with the knife.
Mr. Green pulls off the cloth sack and stares at the man with hesitation.
“You honestly do not know a single thing I am talking about?” Mr. Green looks down at the knife and picks to pick at his fingernails with it.
“I swear to God, I am innocent. You have the wrong guy.” The man is sweating and breathing heavy, “Please, I need water.”
“I don’t like having to beg for the truth,” Mr. Green says, ignores his request for water and placing the blade to his throat.
“I don’t know anything!” the man closes his eyes in fear
“Okay, thank you.” Mr. Green says calmly. He takes a deep breath and exhales with a sigh. Without a blink, he flicks the blade across the man’s throat. The man opens his mouth in distress but no sound escapes his lips. The shivering, convulsing man hits the floor with a wet thud as blood begins to pool around the floor.
“Sir,” a large henchman comes into the warehouse, “That wasn’t John Boddy.”
“Oh,” Mr. Green chuckles, “That guy was telling the truth afterall. I figured he was telling the truth, but he already saw my face. Where is Boddy?”
“Boarding the train to Blackwell Grange.” The henchman says, “Are you sure we want him dead?”
“Strict orders. But since he is heading to Blackwell Grange, I suppose I could pay old Hugh a surprise visit.” Mr. Green laughs, “I’ll deal with Boddy once I am there at Blackwell Grange and blame it on the maid. Maids are always killing these days. Maids and butlers. Let’s both hope henchmen don’t make it on that list.”
In the Conservatory of Blackwell Grange, Professor Peter Plum examines the brown spots on a lush green leaf underneath a magnifying glass. His hair is combed neatly in effort to cover his badly spot. His glasses are round and thick, creating the illusion that his eyes are huge. His bow-tie is dangling loosely to the left and ink is dripping all over his shirt from the pen in his pocket, but he seems content in his findings.
“Only six hours,” Professor Plum checks his notebook and pocket watch to the time recorded and time previously marked. He glances to the record player across the Conservatory and realizes that it has stopped playing a good while ago. His tea is also cold on the side table. Professor Plum dumps the cold tea into a wooden plant box and proceeds to pace the room aimlessly, as if waiting for someone or something to happen. Presently the door to the Hall flings open and a scantily clad blonde woman, dressed in a French Maid’s outfit enters the room.
“Professor!” the maid exclaims , “Must you do your experimenting in here? I can smell the poison you poured all over that perfect leaf from the Dining Room.”
“I’m testing the time lapse this poisonous affect has on the leaves of this banana plant.” Professor Plum says, “Only six hours and it’s already withered to crisp, dead fibers.”
“Couldn’t you do this out on the terrace?” Yvette asks in her common, thick French accent, with broken English, “Mr. Ash is going on and on about the guests arriving all throughout today and he wouldn’t want anything dangerous lying about. A poisoned plant is not good when there are overnight visitors milling about the house as if it were their own. Do you plan to lock up the Conservatory and keep it to yourself?”
“I did not realize that was an option. Besides, it’s only a drop on a leaf every six hours. ” Professor Plum turns the plant in question around, “Here, I’ll hide the damage leaves so that the guests won’t even see it.”
“You are silly, professor.” Yvette says tickling his nose with her feather duster, “I do not care, I was only acting the part in case anyone was listening. No one appears to be around.” Yvette begins to unbutton the tight buttons on the front of her maid’s uniform.
“Yvette,” Professor Plum chuckles nervously, “Not here, what if Mr. Ash or my brother were to find out.”
“Then I would lose my job.” Yvette jokes, “They will get very jealous, but they will enjoy the show.”
“Here,” he leads her over to the corner of the room where the wallpaper fades to rough brick and the vines that frame the ceiling of the room hang lower, “I found this the other day.”
He moves the vines and presses on the wall revealing a secret passageway.
“A house this old must have dozens of passageways!” Yvette exclaims in delight, leaning forward into the dark, damp narrow space between the walls.
“It leads to the Lounge.” Professor Plum says leading her inside. Yvette begins kissing him as the passage door closes.
In the Study of Blackwell Grange, Dr. Hugh Black stands at the windows with his arms behind his back. He is looking out onto the stately green lawn. An elderly gardener trims the hedges around the garden.
“You promise you are alright?” a middle aged blonde woman asks sipping tea from the armchair in front of the Study desk.
“I am fine, Amelia, my sister is just very superstitious.” Dr. Black says walking from the window to an antique display case, “It is not uncommon for her to chase after her visions and premonitions. She goes on psychic tangents all the time.”
Amelia Dove, Dr. Black’s fiancé, leans forward and stands up from her seat, “Are you sure we can’t back out of the idea of a boating trip?” asks Miss Dove
“Darling, I know you are nervous around the water, but once we are out on the sea, you will feel like you are in a floating palace.” Dr. Black says, walking around the desk and taking her tea cup from her hands. He places it on the desk then stands in front of her. He smiles slowly.
“Couldn’t we just stay here?” Miss Dove says, looking down at the green and yellow threads in the carpet, “The gardens, rooms, people will keep the guests entertained.”
“Amelia,” Dr. Black chuckles shaking his head, “It is not proper for a host to change the party plans on the very day the guests are arriving.”
“The colonel loves to play billiards!” Miss Dove says, wringing her hands with anxiousness, “There is no billiard table in the yacht.”
“Everything will be perfect.” Dr. Black says kissing her on the forehead, “Give it a chance. You’d be surprised at how soothing the water can actually be.”
“You don’t think I can sweet talk my way into impressing your friends into staying on land?” Miss Dove asks, looking up at him with a fake pout
“I’m sure they will all love you.” Dr. Black says ignoring her avid frustration. He chuckles and turns to the liquor cabinet in the corner, “I need to keep this under lock and key.”
“I’m sleeping with a life vest on once we get on that boat.” Miss Dove stands up and follows him over to the liquor cabinet.
“Whatever gets you on that boat with me.” Dr. Black pulls her into his arms with a laugh.
“Oh, Hugh! Are you sure we are ready to do this? I mean a romantic seaside vacation seems like such a big deal to me.” she squeals gleefully as Hugh begins to unbutton her blouse. She swats away his hand in discouragement, “Not here. What if Mr. Ash walks in.”
“At his age, I’m sure it would give him a heart attack.” Dr. Black says with lust in his eyes, “We have waited so long. The guests will not give us a chance to have any alone time.”
“Perhaps we should wait till our wedding night.” Miss Dove says, beginning to button up her blouse and walking back towards the chair, “You never seemed to have a problem with waiting before.”
“Of course not,” Dr. Black lets out a long sigh and turns towards her.
“Ahem,” Mr. Ash clears his throat from the Study doorway.
Miss Dove quickly finishes buttons up her shirt with her back towards Mr. Ash. Dr. Black locks the liquor cabinet and places the key in his pocket.
“I apologize for the intrusion, but Mrs. Peacock and her stepdaughter have just pulled through the gates.” The butler meekly replies
“Thank you, Mr. Ash.” Dr. Black replies.
Outside the front steps of Blackwell Grange, Mrs. Peacock steps out of her car with the assistance of her driver. She looks around the sky as the wind begins to bring the dark storm clouds closer. Miss Scarlet and Mr. Clay step out and look around the circular brick driveway. Miss Scarlet’s red skirt blows in the sudden breeze that picks up.
“I haven’t been here since I was a child.” Miss Scarlet says as she stares up at the intimidating mansion before her.
“It’s huge!” Mr. Clay turns around to look at the vast gardens and endless lawns.
“The Tennis Court is to the right.” Mrs. Peacock motions as they walk up to Mr. Ash, who waits on the front porch with open doors.
“Mr. Ash,” Mrs. Peacock holds out her hand
“It is wonderful to see you again.” Mr. Ash kisses her hand, “Miss Scarlet,” he nods to her.
“And this is our tennis coach.” Mrs. Peacock says, “For the days we are at the mansion before the boating departure, he will be happy to fulfill the tennis needs. I know the professor loves to play tennis.”
“He does indeed,” Mr. Ash smiles as they enter the Hall. Mrs. Peacock’s driver sets down their luggage in the entry way and tips his hat to Mr. Ash.
“Look at the size of that chandelier.” Mr. Clay says as he and Miss Scarlet walk further down the Hall together.
“Do I sense a romance between the two?” asks Mr. Ash
“I hope to god no.” Mrs. Peacock rolls her eyes
“I’m sorry to say Madame Rose will not be here.” Mr. Ash says
“I was hoping to have her help me out with a future problem.” Mrs. Peacock says disappointedly
“She fled to a hotel in town.” Mr. Ash says
“Could I visit her?” asks Mrs. Peacock
“I’m afraid she doesn’t wish to take any visitors.” Mr. Ash frowns
“Patricia!” Dr. Black comes from his Study with open arms to Mrs. Peacock
“Hugh, it’s so good to finally be here.” Mrs. Peacock smiles, “I’ve missed it so much.”
Miss Dove comes from the Study doorway meekly in the background.
“Ah,” Dr. Black takes her hand and leads her to Mrs. Peacock, “This is my darling fiancée, Amelia.”
“I’ve heard so much about you,” Mrs. Peacock says through a tight jaw, “It’s so great to finally meet you.”
“Thank you,” Miss Dove smiles
“You’ll have to tell me all about how terrible Hugh is treating you.” Mrs. Peacock chuckles rudely, “I’m just joking around. He is a great man. He tries his best.”
“Mrs. Peacock,” Miss Dove says seriously, “Hugh and I are perfectly fine together.”
“Of course you are, dear.” Mrs. Peacock says stepping towards the Lounge, “I’m going to help myself to a little morning champagne and fruit. I assume it’s laid out in the Lounge.”
“Right this way,” Mr. Ash leads her
“Vivienne, come.” Mrs. Peacock orders.
Miss Scarlet and Mr. Clay both head into the Lounge followed by Dr. Black. Miss Dove stares daggers at Mrs. Peacock.
In the Kitchen, Mrs. White has finished frying up all the fish and is placing the searing hot fillets on a metal platter.
“Perfect!” Mrs. White smiles as the back door opens and an elderly gardener with greying-red hair enters. He removes his filth cap and wipes his boots on the doormat.
“Morning, Rusty.” Mrs. White smiles as cheerfully as ever
“I see you fried up our lucky catch.” Rusty smiles, “It smells delicious.”
“I made you a plate,” Mrs. White motions to a white dish on the counter across the room, “Fried fish, scrambled eggs, and fried peppers.”
“Thank you, Mrs. White.” Rusty takes the plate and sits down.
“Madame Rose had a little incident last night if you didn’t hear?” Mrs. White begins to gossip
“What happened to the poor dear?” asks Rusty
“She saw a prophecy in her cards.” Mrs. White says, “Death is coming to Blackwell Grange.”
“Murder?” asks Rusty
“You haven’t seen anyone poking around back?” asks Mrs. White pointing a knife at Rusty
“No one at all, Mrs. White.” Rusty says
“Good,” Mrs. White smiles, “Because if someone found Mr. White, there would be a lot of awkward explaining to do.”
Rusty watches as Mrs. White resumes to throwing the fish heads onto the sizzling pan.
“Fish heads?” asks Rusty
“I think they are a wonderful treat.” Mrs. White smiles as she resume back to her cheery normal self.
In his private compartment, Mr. Boddy sits down and takes off his black, leather gloves. He looks out the window at the boring train station. Colonel Mustard moves the curtain and steps inside.
“You decided to join me?” Mr. Boddy chuckles picking up the complimentary magazine from the seat next to him.
“They gave you flowers.” Colonel Mustard nods to a small metal vase with flowers in it, “The damn thing will spill before the train starts.”
“The vase is stationary in this compartment.” Mr. Boddy says, “It is a complimentary custom to leave flowers when you are expecting a person of high standards.”
“I didn’t know who you were in the pub.” Colonel Mustard says, “I didn’t recognize you. You were only a boy last time I saw you. I haven’t seen you since…” Colonel Mustard’s voice trails off
“You could have found them.” Mr. Boddy says with tears welling up in his eyes, “You could have found my parents if you would have tried harder.”
“I did everything I could.” Colonel Mustard says, “Your uncle brought me back after a month in Egypt. I loved your mother.”
“Yes,” Mr. Boddy spits, “You loved my mother, that’s why you let her and my father die out there. You were jealous because you couldn’t have her, so you didn’t even try to look for them.”
“I tried.” Colonel Mustard barks, “Day and night I tried. You were always an ungrateful little bastards. You always had to have everything your way, and when we couldn’t get your parents back you didn’t let us morn. You didn’t have pity. You had anger because you didn’t get your damned way.”
“Get out!” Mr. Boddy screams, “Get out of my compartment.”
Colonel Mustard storms out and Mr. Boddy hunches forward and begins to cry hard. Tears roll down his face and splash into the carpet.
“You okay, kid?” a voice with a thick Italian-American accent asks from beside the curtain.
“Thank you,” Mr. Boddy composes himself, “But I do not need anything right now.”
The curtain opens and Mr. Green steps inside, “Ya mind if I give you a little advice?”
“On what particular topic?” asks Mr. Boddy as he listens
“Well, ya see, I overheard that little story with the colonel.” Mr. Green says with a shrug, “Don’t worry about it. It ain’t a big deal to me.”
“Who are you, and what is it that you want?” asks Mr. Boddy with annoyance
“I’m a friend of your Uncle Hugh’s.” Mr. Green says pulling out a cigar, “Mind if I smoke?”
Mr. Boddy motions for him to smoke.
“Want a cigar?” asks Mr. Green
“I perfect richer cigars.” Mr. Boddy says, “Continue, you know my Uncle.”
“I’m one of his…” Mr. Green pauses and exhales smoke thickly, “… business partners.”
“What business?” asks Mr. Boddy
“None of your business.” Mr. Green jokes and jabs his finger into Mr. Boddy’s side, “I’m just messing with ya, kid.”
“Are you headed to my Uncle’s reunion too?” Mr. Boddy asks
“Reunion?” Mr. Green says, “Hugh’s having a reunion and I wasn’t invited?”
“You weren’t invited yet you are heading there today?” asks Mr. Boddy
“I had a business reason to need to see him as soon as possible,” Mr. Green says, “Strange coincidence.”
“I should enjoy the company.” Mr. Boddy says resting his head wearily against the window.
Mr. Green stares at the boy and feels the knife in his pocket. He slowly begins to reach for it when the curtain opens.
“Colonel!” Mr. Green smiles holding his cigar near his lips
“Good to see you, old chap!” Colonel Mustard grabs his cigar and takes a puff of it
“Ah,” Mr. Green knocks Mr. Boddy’s arm, “You gotta watch out for the colonel. He got my favorite cigar.”
“I came in here to apologize, John.” Colonel Mustard nods to Mr. Boddy
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Mr. Boddy says
“What luck we caught the same train.” Colonel Mustard says puffing away at the expensive cigar
“Well it was more of a chance.” Mr. Green explains, “I’m actually just going to see Hugh on business, I have no idea he was having a little shindig this weekend.”
“What luck!” Colonel Mustard says, “You’ll be sure to be invited. We are going out in his yacht in a few days for a week long boating trip!”
“Well, I’m almost offended I wasn’t invited.” Mr. Green laughs
“We’ll have to get the Professor and Rusty to play poker with us!” Colonel Mustard says, “All four of us haven’t had a good night since Mrs. Peacock married Sir Matthew.”
“Will you two please be quiet?” Mr. Boddy snaps, “This is my private compartment and if you two are going to share it with me, I want complete silence.”
In the Lounge of Blackwell Grange, Mrs. Peacock swallows a grape followed by a mouthful of her mimosa.
“The peaches and cherries are simply perfect for this time of the year.” Dr. Black says, “I got them from fresh from the produce this morning.”
“I’ll have to try them.” Miss Scarlet says as Mr. Clay returns to the sofa with a glass of champagne for her, “Thank you Chandler.”
He sits down next to her as the large painting in the corner of the Lounge rotates. Professor Plum and Yvette exit into the Lounge.
“Oh my word!” Mrs. Peacock puts her hand over her chest.
“Hugh, I didn’t know about that.” Miss Dove says grasping on to Hugh’s arm.
Dr. Black chuckles, “Me and my siblings used to play in the passages all the time. We would play hide and seek, or tag.”
“Are there more?” asks Professor Plum
“One in my Study that leads to the kitchen.” Dr. Black says
“Really?” Miss Scarlet asks, “I find that odd that there would be one to a Kitchen.”
“Apparently my great grandfather, who build this mansion, was having an affair with his housekeeper. He made a way they could both meet up for a little romp in the hay.” Dr. Black says
Professor Plum fixes his bowtie, “We found this one in the Conservatory.”
“I prefer the doors that were meant to be walked through.” Miss Dove chuckles nervously, “I don’t want to step foot in that creepy, cobweb filled dungeon.”
“She doesn’t like the cellar either.” Dr. Black says, “On our third date I brought her back to the mansion, and while I built a fire in the Library I asked her to select any bottle from the wine storage. After ten minutes or so she didn’t come back so I went to find her. She was standing at the top of the staircase still trying to find the light switch. I knew in that moment she was so timid and gentle, that I felt truly, 100% in love with her.”
“That’s so sweet.” Miss Scarlet smiles subtly touching Chandler’s leg with her hand. He notices and smiles.
Mrs. Peacock bites down hard as she swallows the remainder of her drink.
In the Dining Room, Mr. Ash finishes setting out a plate for each chair. Mrs. White rolls a serving cart through the door leading to the Kitchen and begins to set various dishes on the buffet.
“Mrs. White!” Mr. Ash shouts as the smell of fried fish reaches his nose, “I said no fish!”
“Oh, I forgot.” Mrs. White chuckles innocently, “I kept trying to dice peppers and I kept noticing the fish bucket so I figured I was supposed to be frying them. You know, my memory isn’t as good as it once was.”
“Mrs. White,” Mr. Ash sighs, “Why don’t you try to let Yvette help you in the Kitchen more? That’s why she’s here, to learn how to be a good maid.”
“Okay, Reggie,” Mrs. White pats him on the shoulder, “I think breakfast is ready.”
“Give Yvette a chance.” Mr. Ash says.
Mr. Ash goes out into the hall to see Nurse Silver helping a small boy, aged ten, down the staircase.
“Master Dove,” Mr. Ash says
“Is mother at breakfast?” the boy asks
“Let’s have a seat in there,” Nurse Silver says, “The guests will be coming in for breakfast.”
“Breakfast is served!” Mr. Ash announces from the Lounge doorway as Nurse Silver and young Master Dove enter the Dining Room. Dr. Black, Miss Dove, Mrs. Peacock, Miss Scarlet, Professor Plum, and Mr. Clay all exit the Lounge. Yvette steps over to Mr. Ash’s side.
“Go check on Mrs. White.” Mr. Ash says to the girl.
“Everyone this is my soon-to-be step son, Fivel.” Dr. Black introduces the adorable young boy, “And this is his Nanny, Nurse Silver.”
“Constantine.” Nurse Silver introduces herself.
“How do you do.” Mrs. Peacock extends a hand.
“Mrs. White has prepared a lovely fried fish dish.” Mr. Ash says, “Freshly caught fish, too, I might add.”
“It smells delicious.” Mr. Clay says taking a seat
“This is Mr. Clay,” Dr. Black introduces Mr. Clay to Nurse Silver, “He is here to play tennis with the interested guests. I know you were curious about playing tennis, perhaps Mr. Clay could show you a thing or two.”
“I would love to give it a try.” Nurse Silver says
“Is the colonel coming?” asks Mrs. Peacock
“Yes his train should arrive before dinner.” Dr. Black says, “My nephew John is coming also.”
“I haven’t seen John in so long.” Mrs. Peacock says
“John is going to be my cousin as soon as mother and Hugh get married.” Fivel says smiling, “Madame Rose says that John is going to be bringing something incredible to tell us.”
“Fivel,” Miss Dove corrects her son, “I told you not to talk with Madame Rose unless I’m around.”
“She’s our resident psychic.” Dr. Black chuckles, “My dear sister decided to take some vacation time in a nearby hotel and spa. She hasn’t been feeling well and didn’t want to be around too many people.” He lies, “She was sorry that she couldn’t go out onto the water.”
“I wish I could get out of going on the water.” Miss Dove chuckles
“You don’t love the sea?” asks Mrs. Peacock
“I prefer watching it from the land.” Miss Dove says, “I am terrified of boats and drowning. I never learned how to swim.”
“With the size of this swimming pool here, we should teach her.” Professor Plum says to his step-brother, Hugh.
“Yes,” Dr. Black’s mood changes as soon as his step-brother spoke.
“I’ll be fine.” Miss Dove says, “I just need to stop worrying myself.”
“I can swim,” Fivel announces cheerful
“Hush, don’t speak so loudly.” Nurse Silver corrects the boy
“I bet you can swim really fast.” Mr. Clay joins in conversation with the boy
“I love jumping in.” Fivel laughs
“You’ll have to ask your Nanny if you can swim today.” Mr. Clay chuckles
“I heard it is going to storm.” Nurse Silver says shrugging, “Sorry, Fivel, maybe tomorrow you and Mr. Clay can swim.”
“Chandler,” Miss Dove speaks out, “I didn’t realize you were good with children.”
“I have two younger brothers.” Mr. Clay says, “I was always good at entertaining.”
“That will be good to know. I’m sure Nurse Silver would like to spend a couple days off.” Miss Dove says, “If you don’t mind that is.”
“I love kids.” Mr. Clay smiles
Miss Scarlet reaches under the table and happily rubs his leg.
“You’ll have to settle down and find the right girl to raise a family with,” Nurse Silver smiles staring into his eyes.
Miss Scarlet’s hand moves up, startling Chandler.
“Yes,” Chandler smiles
“Has anyone heard of the rare parrot flower?” Professor Plum speaks up
“I doubt the guests wish to hear a scientifically boring explanation.” Dr. Black dismissed him
“I’m very curious about your flower, Professor,” Mrs. Peacock says, “You will have to tell me all about it later.”
“Yes, in the Conservatory.” Professor Plum nods
“Mr. Clay,” Nurse Silver asks from across the table, “How long have you been working as a tennis instructor to Mrs. Peacock and Miss Scarlet?”
“About ten months.” Mr. Clay says
“He was such a prodigy I couldn’t resist sharing him with everyone at the reunion.” Mrs. Peacock says, “Who else is coming?”
“Only Colonel Mustard and my nephew,” Dr. Black smiles, “I tried to get my lawyer and his wife to come but they are in Monte Carlo.”
“I can’t remember the last time I was in Monte Carlo.” Mrs. Peacock says, “Wasn’t it the Christmas we went there and met Earl Gamboge?”
“I believe it was,” Dr. Black says thinking back, “We need to make a trip before winter.”
“I’ve never been,” Miss Dove smiles next to her fiancé.
“It’s truly a wonder to behold.” Mrs. Peacock smiles thinking back on her memories.
Miss Dove stares at Mrs. Peacock with repressed loathing. She takes her eyes off of Mrs. Peacock and onto the large brass candlestick on the table.
“Mrs. Peacock,” Miss Dove recovers, “I was hoping we could talk in the Library for a bit after breakfast. I’d love to get to know you.”
“That would be lovely.” Mrs. Peacock looks at her plate, “I’m nearly done eating. I feel like I’m ready to stretch my legs.”
“I’d love to see the Tennis Courts before it starts raining.”
“We can show you.” Nurse Silver says motioning to herself and Fivel.
“I would love to see them.” Miss Scarlet invites herself along
“I suppose I will check in with the train station and see if my nephew’s train as left yet.” Dr. Black says standing up, “I will be in the study.”
Mrs. Peacock and Miss Dove cross the Hall and enter the Library.
“Ah,” Mrs. Peacock inhales deeply, “I always loved the smell of this room. The paper, the old cigars and the scent of brandy.”
“It’s quite a beautiful room.” Miss Dove says
Mrs. Peacock begins to climb the book ladder, “I always loved this book.” She pulls a romance novel from a high shelf, “I read it every time I come to Blackwell Grange.”
“Feel free to take it to your room.” Miss Dove says
“I remember when Hugh and I bought that rug.” Mrs. Peacock points to the bear skin rug on the ground, “We were vacationing in Canada.”
“Mrs. Peacock,” Miss Dove stands up, trying to gain the courage to speak, “Hugh loves me.”
“Yes is suppose he does,” Mrs. Peacock says plainly
“Whatever history you and Hugh had is over. I am glad you two remained friends, but you cannot keep bringing up memories of when you and Hugh were together.”
“Why not?” Mrs. Peacock says, “Those were the happiest days of his life.”
“He asked me to marry him.” Miss Dove says hold out her hand
“He asked me to marry him, also.” Mrs. Peacock says
“But you didn’t.” Miss Dove says
“No I didn’t,” Mrs. Peacock says, “And I’ll tell you why – Hugh loves to please women. He loves different women. He will enver be satisfied. Hugh can never settle down with one person. Hugh loves the flavors of the world.”
“You are lying.” Miss Dove says
“He’s probably getting someone else on the side right now.” Mrs. Peacock says
“You are trying to ruin my trust in him.” Miss Dove says, “It won’t work. I love him and trust him with all my heart. He would never sleep around.”
“Suit yourself.” Mrs. Peacock says, “It was great to getting to know you, by the way. I feel I must make my way outside. It got a little stuffy in here. And to think, I used to love this room so much.”
To Be Continued…