Episode 1.12 “From a Friend”
Nurse Silver looks out the window of the bathroom on the second floor of Blackwell Grange. The sound of water running fills the otherwise silent room. She watches Fivel sitting on the steps of the Gazebo with a toy truck. She sees Miss Dove walk over to her son and sit down next to him. Nurse Silver’s eyes are red and puffy. She grabs her stomach in distress and peels herself out of her nanny uniform. She turns off the bathtub and stares at herself in the mirror. She looks at her body and the scars left from her cesarean procedure. She opens the drawer next to the sink and withdraws a straight razor. She calmly walks over to the bathtub and sinks into the hot water. She places the razor against her wrist and closes her eyes. In the darkness she sees only the face of the baby boy she gave away.
“Why,” Nurse Silver says, “Why did he make me? Why did I listen? I’ll never see that boy grow up. I will spend every day haunted by that baby’s piercing blue eyes. I will never get to hear him laugh. I’ll never…”
Nurse Silver closes her eyes as more tears mix in with the bath water. She looks at the straight razor in her hand and the blade, touching the fragile, fair skin on her wrist. She mentally pulls the blade a thousand times to release herself from the hell that she is being forced into, but physically she cannot bring herself to pull the blade. She throws the straight razor angrily against the wall near the toilet and gets out of the bathtub. She drains the tub and slowly begins to dry off. She walks to the window again to see Fivel alone again with his truck. She puts her nanny uniform back on and quickly leaves the bathroom.
In the Billiard Room, the afternoon sunlight is shining through the windows as Colonel Mustard aims his billiard cue.
“You don’t suppose that everyone here is just used to the rapid rate of deaths?” Mr. Green asks
“I beg your pardon?” asks Colonel Mustard, flubbing his shot
“Sure, everyone is moping around due to Hugh’s death, but no one is phased by the fact that there is an investigative team
trying to find out who killed him.” Mr. Green says
“I think it is because we are all counting on Brunette being arrested for the murder.” Colonel Mustard says
“I bet the killer is counting on that too.” Mr. Green says placing his billiard cue back into the wall mount, “I’m not feeling up for a game right now.”
“Have you any idea where Mrs. White is?” asks Colonel Mustard, “I was hoping to speak with her but she wasn’t in the Kitchen or the Library. You can normally find her in one of those rooms.”
“She’s baking lasagna.” Mr. Green says, “Odds are she set the oven and is napping in the Ballroom on a sofa.”
“Does she nap frequently during cooking?” asks Colonel Mustard
“Let’s just hope she doesn’t burn it this time.” Mr. Green says
“Do you know of Nesting House?” asks Colonel Mustard
“Nesting House,” Mr. Green thinks, “I’m sure I’ve heard of it.”
“While Sir Benedict was interviewing Mrs. White for position as nanny he has her temporarily work as cook and nanny for Nesting House, just to see if she had what it took to be a nanny and cook in a mansion of a great scale.” Colonel Mustard explains
“Didn’t Nesting House burn down?” asks Mr. Green
“The children’s charred bodies were pulled from that rubble and somehow Sir Benedict still found the trust to hire Mrs. White.” Colonel Mustard says
“Was she responsible for the arson?” asks Mr. Green
“That’s a question I’ve always asked myself.” Colonel Mustard says, “But since I am just finding out about her naps during baking, perhaps the fire was a pure accident and she just got out in time.”
“Still,” Mr. Green says, “It makes one wonder how she steps away unscratched yet the children were burned beyond recognition.”
“Billiards and gossip?” Mrs. Peacock startles the two men as she enters the room
“Mrs. Peacock,” Colonel Mustard greets her, “How are you feeling?”
“Terrible.” Mrs. Peacock says, “As expected. I’ve taken so much aspirin today but this damned migraine is still drilling away.”
“There is apparently a séance tonight.” Colonel Mustard scoffs
“Oh how tragic.” Mrs. Peacock sits down on the leather sofa, “Madame Rose has good intentions, but terrible ways of showing it.”
“I’ve never done any of that psychic stuff.” Mr. Green says, “It should be interesting.”
“I’m not going.” Colonel Mustard says
“Oh, but it will be fun.” Mr. Green says
“I don’t believe in that stuff.” Colonel Mustard says
“Well, I think you need to loosen up.” Mr. Green says
“I’m fine just the way I am.” Colonel Mustard flubs another shot
“Well,” Mrs. Peacock says, “I for one will be happy to get out of this place.”
“I thought you loved Blackwell Grange like it was your own home.” Mr. Green says
“I loved the people.” Mrs. Peacock says, “Without Hugh this is just a dusty old mansion.”
“Maybe if Blackwell Grange had an official owner it would be less dull.” Mr. Green says
“Is that all anyone talks about?” Mrs. Peacock asks, “The damn will?”
“I was invited to the will reading.” Mr. Green says
“That’s not something worth bragging about.” Mrs. Peacock says
“I just thought, he most likely left something to you two if he is leaving something to me.” Mr. Green says
“I could care less.” Colonel Mustard says giving up and putting the billiard cue on the wall mount.
“He changed his will recently.” Mr. Green says
Colonel Mustard and Mrs. Peacock both turn their heads to Mr. Green.
“Well I’m sure Miss Dove will be tickled pink to hear about this.” Mrs. Peacock says
“It makes me wonder,” Colonel Mustard says, “Did he update his will every time he thought he was in love.”
“If that’s the case I was probably an heiress for two months.” Mrs. Peacock scoffs
“You’ve always been an heiress.” Mr. Green says
“My previous husbands all looked out for me and provided for me.” Mrs. Peacock says
“Every time one dropped you had enough money for a new car and a new house.” Mr. Green says, “Don’t play coy; you have made a steady income on your husbands.”
“It’s not her fault they all happened to be rich beyond their dreams.” Colonel Mustard says
“Are you two sassing me?” asks Mrs. Peacock
“Just pointing out that Miss Dove may be getting what you got with your three husbands.” Mr. Green says
“Something about glass houses and stones?” Colonel Mustard hints
“Well at least I don’t fake relationships with rich women to cover my homosexuality.” Mrs. Peacock says, tongue-in-cheek
“Colonel?” Mr. Green is taken aback
“All scandals,” Colonel Mustard says, “All lies. Just a bunch of nasty rumors, like the ones of Particia killing off each of her husbands.”
“Maybe rumors are a bad topic to discuss.” Mr. Green says
“Didn’t I walk in on you two discussing Mrs. White burning down a house?” Mrs. Peacock asks
“Does anyone want a drink?” Colonel Mustard changes the subject
In the Ballroom, Professor Plum enters to see Mrs. White asleep on the ottoman.
“Mrs. White,” Professor Plum says, gently waking the elderly housekeeper.
“Only forty winks was all I needed,” Mrs. White groggily harrumphs herself awake
“Dinner smells lovely.” Professor Plum says
“Oh, thank you Professor!” Mrs. White smiles cheerfully, “I figured a nice easy to prepare meal would be sufficient in light of the events.”
“If it tastes half as good as it smells, we will not be disappointed.” Professor Plum walks over to the piano and sits down slowly
“Will you be creating tunes for us to enjoy?” asks Inspector Brown as he enters the Ballroom with Sergeant Gray.
“More or less pondering.” Professor Plum aimlessly hits a couple notes
“I thought you would like to be informed,” Inspector Brown says, “The coroners are narrowing down the cause of death.”
“Oh?” Professor Plum turns eagerly.
“Due to the scratches and bruises we have determined he was dead before thrown down the stairs.” Inspector Brown says,
“Cuts, splinters, and wounds from tumbling down the old staircase and to the concrete floor made it troublesome to discover the leading cause for death.”
Mrs. White lowers her head in sorrow, “I could barely recognize his face.”
“He was attacked from behind, and due to a large wound in his back we have determined he was either stabbed or shot. No bullet has been recovered yet, but we will let you know as soon as possible.” Inspector Brown says
“Have you figured out the murder location?” asks Mrs. White
“Actually yes.” Inspector Brown says, “But we will not be disclosing that information just yet. We would like to confirm our weapon and location then ask some more questions to see who falls short of the truth.”
“Clearly Brunette is the man that is responsible.” Mrs. White says
“I don’t think so.” Sergeant Gray speaks up, “Based on horror stories we’ve been told about this elusive man, it doesn’t seem like his type of killing.”
“That’s what he wants you to think.” Mrs. White says
“I’m sorry,” Inspector Brown says, “Forgive me, but I thought you were accusing Miss Dove.”
“I was.” Mrs. White says, “I am. There are only two clear possibilities.”
“There are, in fact, more than two.” Inspector Brown says, “There are endless possibilities of what happened to Hugh Black. Brunette’s appearance may or may not be tied in with Hugh’s murder. I will not let Brunette become the number one suspect.”
“I understand.” Mrs. White says, “If there is nothing more I can do to assist you, I need to check on supper.”
“Actually I do have one question.” Inspector Brown says
“Yes?” Mrs. White turns to him
“Were all knives present and accounted for?” asks Inspector Brown as he flips open his notebook
“I do believe so.” Mrs. White says, “All but the one you have down at the police station.”
“Just out of personal curiosity,” Sergeant Gray speaks up, “Why did Dr. Black collect memoirs of famous spies? I couldn’t help but notice in the Library.”
“Dr. Black’s tastes were very eclectic.” Mrs. White says, “I remember when Dr. Black was just a boy.”
“You were quite young when you were hired on as a maid and nanny?” asks Inspector Brown
“Yes,” Mrs. White says, “I was only sixteen Sir Benedict saw me taking my younger siblings to the theater. You see, my mother died from a long sickness and my father turned to alcohol.”
“I’m sorry.” Inspector Brown offers sympathy
“If it wasn’t for my care for my siblings, Sir Benedict never would have seen my talents.” Mrs. White says
“So it would be safe to assume you have been working here since the age of sixteen?” Inspector Brown inquires
“I didn’t begin working her until I was nearly twenty-two.” Mrs. White says, “Sir Benedict had me attend to some of his less-rich friends to see if I was suited for such a large house.”
“It seems you were deemed suitable.” Inspector Brown smiles
In the Conservatory, Colonel Mustard enters with a glass of scotch in his hand. Madame Rose sits on the wicker sofa staring out at the lake through the large glass windows.
“Sorry,” Colonel Mustard excuses himself, “I figured you would want to be alone.”
“Have a seat.” Madame Rose invites him in
“We helped ourselves to a drink.” Colonel Mustard raises his glass, “In honor of Hugh’s memory. I hope you don’t mind.”
“It’s not as if I’ll be inheriting.” Madame Rose says, “No one likes the noisy psychic.”
“I was always quite fond of you.” Colonel Mustard nods
“You thought my abilities were ‘horse shit’ as you put it.” Madame Rose points out
“They are horse shit,” Colonel Mustard says, “But that’s the charm about you. You are always so imaginative.”
“I hope you realize how foolish you sound.” Madame Rose sighs, dejectedly
“So,” Colonel Mustard twirls the liquor is his glass, “Do you have any psychic feelings about the murder?”
“Only one,” Madame Rose says, “But this is not my intuition, it’s just common sense.”
“Which is?” asks Colonel Mustard
“The shotgun collected by Sergeant Gray and Inspector Brown,” Madame Rose pauses, watching Colonel Mustard flinch,
“We both know that shotgun belongs to you.”
“Someone found it in my room and rigged it to shoot at Hugh, or whoever was meant to enter the Study.” Colonel Mustard says
“The police have it.” Madame Rose says, “If they dust it for prints, you’ll be sure to be suspected. Plus you’ll be charged with having an unlicensed firearm.”
“I can’t steal it back.” Colonel Mustard says, “That alone would damn me before a jury. I’d hang for a murder I didn’t commit.”
“Oh believe me,” Madame Rose smiles, tongue in cheek, “Someone will hang for this. The English police don’t take well to French murderers.”
“That Brunette fellow is scum.” Colonel Mustard points out, “Did you hear his killed that poor young maid’s mother?”
“It should have been Brunette’s body crumpled at the bottom of those cellar stairs.” Madame Rose says
Mr. Boddy enters the Conservatory with Miss Peach on his arm.
“I’m sorry, mama,” Miss Peach apologizes, “I was just talking with Cousin Johnny about that man, Sergeant Gray.”
“It seems our lovely Melba is smitten.” Colonel Mustard says
“I am not.” Miss Peach blushes
“It’s good for the women in our family to marry young.” Mr. Boddy says, “Keeps the blood lines fresh and keeps the legacy strong.”
Miss Peach sits down in the chair to the right of Colonel Mustard, “I’ve heard this family has been ridiculously rich for generations.”
“Four generations of Benedict’s,” Mr. Boddy brags, “And we had noble standings before that. Earl Maxwell Black was the one who brought honor to our family and our name. We wear it with pride and that is why your great great great grandfather named this mansion after Maxwell Black.”
“Blackwell Grange.” Miss Peach smiles knowingly, “Was the house always this grand?”
“There have been renovations throughout the years.” Madame Rose explains,
“The Ballroom, for example, used to be a magnificent, enclosed loggia.” Mr. Boddy explains, “Then it was refurnished and set to a beautiful Louis XVI styled salon. We still have the original mirrors set in the transoms above the doors.”
“Enough of the history lesson,” Colonel Mustard says, “Don’t bore the poor girl to sleep! Tell us, Melba, you were talking of Sergeant Gray?”
“Well,” Miss Peach smiles, “He just seems really sweet, that’s all.”
“This is just what we need,” Mr. Boddy says, “Some cheering up.”
“I don’t see any harm in it.” Madame Rose shrugs
“Really mama?” Miss Peach beams, “Do you like him?”
“He keeps the town safe.” Madame Rose nods, “He is alright by me.”
“Thank you, mama.” Miss Peach hugs Madame Rose
Madame Rose, taken aback by the sudden display of affection, casually returns it out of sheer politeness.
“I think it’s wonderful to have you around.” Mr. Boddy says, “You should consider moving to Blackwell Grange permanently.”
“That is not for you to determine.” Madame Rose protests
“Uncle Hugh and I always agreed that if he never has any children, he will leave the family legacy to me!” Mr. Boddy says angrily
“You aren’t the master yet.” Colonel Mustard says
“We’ll see about that when Mr. Meadow-Brook reads the will.” Mr. Boddy says smugly, leaving the Conservatory
“Well, that was unfortunate.” Miss Peach says meekly
“Welcome to the family.” Madame Rose says sarcastically
Miss Peach smiles at her mother and then Colonel Mustard, “Things are gonna change for the better once Brunette is stopped.”
“He’ll be the one that hangs for this.” Colonel Mustard says, staring directly at Madame Rose
In the Dining Room, Miss Scarlet helps Yvette set the table.
“I’ve always found table arrangements so fascinating as a child.” Miss Scarlet says holding a dish
“I always love the way they shine in the candle light right before everyone comes in.” Yvette admits with a giggle, “They all reflect light a million different ways.”
Miss Scarlet picks up a Candlestick from the sideboard, “Do we have the other Candlestick for this one?”
“Je n’ai pas. It was taken by the police.” Yvette says softly, “They suspect it is a possible murder weapon.”
“A Candlestick?” Miss Scarlet clutches the twin Candlestick to her chest, “How morbid.”
“They also took a Wrench, a piece of Pipe, of course the Shotgun, Mr. Green’s Revolver, and a few other odds and ends. A length of Rope and a Fireplace Poker I believe.” Yvette explains, “There were more, I do not remember. Ask Mrs. White or Mr. Ash.”
“I heard he was stabbed.” Miss Scarlet says uneasily, “Professor Plum said it looked like stab wounds in his back.”
“Mrs. White says he was too bruised and bleeding to actually tell.” Yvette says
“My mother says he was bludgeoned over the head.” Miss Scarlet says, “I didn’t get a clear look at the body.”
“Miss Scarlet!” Yvette gasps, “Mon dieu! Do not talk so morbidly of Dr. Black.”
“Everyone wants to know.” Miss Scarlet says
“You were not close to him, I take it?” Yvette comments
“My stepmother always went on about him.” Miss Scarlet says, “I saw him quite a bit but never cared for the man.”
“I was not close with Dr. Black either.” Yvette admits, “I feel he only hired me for my body.”
Miss Scarlet looks over Yvette’s tight, revealing French Maid’s outfit.
“Well, the way you dress,” Miss Scarlet comments
“The way I dress?” Yvette says, “I came in here to ask for a job wearing a black buttoned up shirt. Dr. Black came over and started unsnapping each button. He put me in this and makes me dust the bookcases and sweep the hallways. I am no maid. I am his muse; something pretty for him to watch as he drinks and swears love to a gold digging woman and her brat.”
“I’m sorry,” Miss Scarlet says, “I didn’t know.”
“No one ever thinks to ask.” Yvette says resuming to setting the table
“Dr. Black was fond of my body too, for what it’s worth.” Miss Scarlet says, “He offered me jewelry to accept one date with him. We all know he just wanted to try the younger version of my stepmother.”
“It’s a good thing you turned him down.” Yvette says
“Who says I turned him down.” Miss Scarlet smirks
In the Study, Nurse Silver enters to see Miss Dove sitting in the high back chair drinking a glass of wine with a smile on her face.
“What can I do for you, Nurse Silver?” asks Miss Dove as she takes a sip
“I love him.” Nurse Silver says
“You don’t know him.” Miss Dove says, “He needs a real mother. He needs someone who knows how to be a good mother, and protect her son from all the dangers of the world.”
“You aren’t the same person anymore.” Nurse Silver says, tears welling up in her eyes
“Darling,” Miss Dove stands up, setting the wine glass on the desk, “I have always been the same person. I just put on the innocent act to impress the man I loved.”
“You disappeared for a long long time yesterday and when you came back you had a shotgun and then Hugh was found dead!” Nurse Silver lets the tears fall from her face
“Do you want to know if I killed Hugh?” asks Miss Dove placing herself directly in front of Nurse Silver
“I want to hear you admit it.” Nurse Silver says, grinding her teeth
“I wish I could,” Miss Dove says, “I loathed the man.”
“Then why was he marrying you?” asks Nurse Silver
“Hugh Black and I go way back.” Miss Dove says turning from Nurse Silver and picking up her wine glass from the desk. She finishes the rest quickly and goes to pour more.
“You only met Hugh when he ran into you in the park.” Nurse Silver says
“Oh, Constantine,” Miss Dove says pouring two glasses of wine and handing one to Nurse Silver, “Sweet, Constantine, have a seat.”
“What are you saying?” Nurse Silver sits on the edge of the desk
“Before Fivel was born I interviewed to be a maid here.” Miss Dove says, “Mr. Ash has always told me I looked so familiar but I just told him I used to frequent the opera. We both know with my salary that is not true.”
“Dr. Black didn’t remember you?” asks Nurse Silver
“Of course not.” Miss Dove says, “I had no sex appeal and he was hungry for others.”
“Oh, Hugh,” Nurse Silver cringes, gulping the wine down, “He was so blind.”
“No doubt he walked blindly into his own murder’s grasp.” Miss Dove says
“You did kill him.” Nurse Silver says
Miss Dove swallows her wine quickly, trying to choke back her tears, “I didn’t kill him. But I know who did.”
“What?” Nurse Silver asks
“I watched it happen.” Miss Dove says
“Where?” Nurse Silver’s face becomes hot and panicky
“The Library.” Miss Dove says, “With the Fireplace Poker.”
In the Library, Sergeant Gray and Inspector Brown close the doors, sealing off the room from the others. Sergeant Gray turns on a tiffany lamp in the corner, enlightening the somber room.
“Right there on the hearth rug.” Inspector Brown says motioning to the long-hair, fur rug in front of the fireplace
“That’s where he took his last breath.” Sergeant Gray kneels down to look closer at the rug.
“The killer took a pair of scissors or something and chopped off the fur that had blood on it.” Inspector Brown says, “You can tell in some spots.”
“Why throw the body in the cellar?” asks Sergeant Gray, “They knew the body would be found, why not just leave it at the murder scene?”
“To create confusion,” Inspector Brown says, “To toy with alibis, to send the guests minds into disarray.”
“Is it possible the killer was acting under orders?” Sergeant Gray says
“We’ve discussed this already.” Inspector Brown points out
“It seems either too random, or too well planned out.” Sergeant Gray says
“Well put.” Inspector Brown says, “We need to find out who did this.”
“Have you any idea as to who it is?” asks Sergeant Gray
“Oh yes.” Inspector Brown says, “I know exactly who it is. I just need to find a way of proving it.”
“Can you let me know?” Sergeant Gray says
“No,” Inspector Brown says, “I need you to get more in depth questioning done. I can’t tell you who the killer is, because you will be obvious and give away our advance.”
“You are right.” Sergeant Gray says, “Well, do you think the killer is likely to strike again? Or is it safe to assume that Dr. Black was the only target?”
“I am almost 100% certain of two things,” Inspector Brown says, “The first being that the killer is most definitely not Alphonse Brunette, and that the murder of Dr. Black is the only intended murder victim.”
In his bedroom, Colonel Mustard enters the room to find a lamp is already on. On his bed lies the Shotgun, a note attached.
“From a friend.” Colonel Mustard reads out loud, his brow furrowed and his hands shaky.
Several hours later, in the Study, insidious photographs are scattered across the desk. Wind blows in through the shattered window, through the drawn curtains and scatters the pictures slightly. One lands on the carpeted floor and lands in a moist red wine spot. Next to the red wine spot is a glass, next to the glass is the limp hand of a woman. The woman is non-responsive and the Study is dark and silent.
To Be Continued…
“Why,” Nurse Silver says, “Why did he make me? Why did I listen? I’ll never see that boy grow up. I will spend every day haunted by that baby’s piercing blue eyes. I will never get to hear him laugh. I’ll never…”
Nurse Silver closes her eyes as more tears mix in with the bath water. She looks at the straight razor in her hand and the blade, touching the fragile, fair skin on her wrist. She mentally pulls the blade a thousand times to release herself from the hell that she is being forced into, but physically she cannot bring herself to pull the blade. She throws the straight razor angrily against the wall near the toilet and gets out of the bathtub. She drains the tub and slowly begins to dry off. She walks to the window again to see Fivel alone again with his truck. She puts her nanny uniform back on and quickly leaves the bathroom.
In the Billiard Room, the afternoon sunlight is shining through the windows as Colonel Mustard aims his billiard cue.
“You don’t suppose that everyone here is just used to the rapid rate of deaths?” Mr. Green asks
“I beg your pardon?” asks Colonel Mustard, flubbing his shot
“Sure, everyone is moping around due to Hugh’s death, but no one is phased by the fact that there is an investigative team
trying to find out who killed him.” Mr. Green says
“I think it is because we are all counting on Brunette being arrested for the murder.” Colonel Mustard says
“I bet the killer is counting on that too.” Mr. Green says placing his billiard cue back into the wall mount, “I’m not feeling up for a game right now.”
“Have you any idea where Mrs. White is?” asks Colonel Mustard, “I was hoping to speak with her but she wasn’t in the Kitchen or the Library. You can normally find her in one of those rooms.”
“She’s baking lasagna.” Mr. Green says, “Odds are she set the oven and is napping in the Ballroom on a sofa.”
“Does she nap frequently during cooking?” asks Colonel Mustard
“Let’s just hope she doesn’t burn it this time.” Mr. Green says
“Do you know of Nesting House?” asks Colonel Mustard
“Nesting House,” Mr. Green thinks, “I’m sure I’ve heard of it.”
“While Sir Benedict was interviewing Mrs. White for position as nanny he has her temporarily work as cook and nanny for Nesting House, just to see if she had what it took to be a nanny and cook in a mansion of a great scale.” Colonel Mustard explains
“Didn’t Nesting House burn down?” asks Mr. Green
“The children’s charred bodies were pulled from that rubble and somehow Sir Benedict still found the trust to hire Mrs. White.” Colonel Mustard says
“Was she responsible for the arson?” asks Mr. Green
“That’s a question I’ve always asked myself.” Colonel Mustard says, “But since I am just finding out about her naps during baking, perhaps the fire was a pure accident and she just got out in time.”
“Still,” Mr. Green says, “It makes one wonder how she steps away unscratched yet the children were burned beyond recognition.”
“Billiards and gossip?” Mrs. Peacock startles the two men as she enters the room
“Mrs. Peacock,” Colonel Mustard greets her, “How are you feeling?”
“Terrible.” Mrs. Peacock says, “As expected. I’ve taken so much aspirin today but this damned migraine is still drilling away.”
“There is apparently a séance tonight.” Colonel Mustard scoffs
“Oh how tragic.” Mrs. Peacock sits down on the leather sofa, “Madame Rose has good intentions, but terrible ways of showing it.”
“I’ve never done any of that psychic stuff.” Mr. Green says, “It should be interesting.”
“I’m not going.” Colonel Mustard says
“Oh, but it will be fun.” Mr. Green says
“I don’t believe in that stuff.” Colonel Mustard says
“Well, I think you need to loosen up.” Mr. Green says
“I’m fine just the way I am.” Colonel Mustard flubs another shot
“Well,” Mrs. Peacock says, “I for one will be happy to get out of this place.”
“I thought you loved Blackwell Grange like it was your own home.” Mr. Green says
“I loved the people.” Mrs. Peacock says, “Without Hugh this is just a dusty old mansion.”
“Maybe if Blackwell Grange had an official owner it would be less dull.” Mr. Green says
“Is that all anyone talks about?” Mrs. Peacock asks, “The damn will?”
“I was invited to the will reading.” Mr. Green says
“That’s not something worth bragging about.” Mrs. Peacock says
“I just thought, he most likely left something to you two if he is leaving something to me.” Mr. Green says
“I could care less.” Colonel Mustard says giving up and putting the billiard cue on the wall mount.
“He changed his will recently.” Mr. Green says
Colonel Mustard and Mrs. Peacock both turn their heads to Mr. Green.
“Well I’m sure Miss Dove will be tickled pink to hear about this.” Mrs. Peacock says
“It makes me wonder,” Colonel Mustard says, “Did he update his will every time he thought he was in love.”
“If that’s the case I was probably an heiress for two months.” Mrs. Peacock scoffs
“You’ve always been an heiress.” Mr. Green says
“My previous husbands all looked out for me and provided for me.” Mrs. Peacock says
“Every time one dropped you had enough money for a new car and a new house.” Mr. Green says, “Don’t play coy; you have made a steady income on your husbands.”
“It’s not her fault they all happened to be rich beyond their dreams.” Colonel Mustard says
“Are you two sassing me?” asks Mrs. Peacock
“Just pointing out that Miss Dove may be getting what you got with your three husbands.” Mr. Green says
“Something about glass houses and stones?” Colonel Mustard hints
“Well at least I don’t fake relationships with rich women to cover my homosexuality.” Mrs. Peacock says, tongue-in-cheek
“Colonel?” Mr. Green is taken aback
“All scandals,” Colonel Mustard says, “All lies. Just a bunch of nasty rumors, like the ones of Particia killing off each of her husbands.”
“Maybe rumors are a bad topic to discuss.” Mr. Green says
“Didn’t I walk in on you two discussing Mrs. White burning down a house?” Mrs. Peacock asks
“Does anyone want a drink?” Colonel Mustard changes the subject
In the Ballroom, Professor Plum enters to see Mrs. White asleep on the ottoman.
“Mrs. White,” Professor Plum says, gently waking the elderly housekeeper.
“Only forty winks was all I needed,” Mrs. White groggily harrumphs herself awake
“Dinner smells lovely.” Professor Plum says
“Oh, thank you Professor!” Mrs. White smiles cheerfully, “I figured a nice easy to prepare meal would be sufficient in light of the events.”
“If it tastes half as good as it smells, we will not be disappointed.” Professor Plum walks over to the piano and sits down slowly
“Will you be creating tunes for us to enjoy?” asks Inspector Brown as he enters the Ballroom with Sergeant Gray.
“More or less pondering.” Professor Plum aimlessly hits a couple notes
“I thought you would like to be informed,” Inspector Brown says, “The coroners are narrowing down the cause of death.”
“Oh?” Professor Plum turns eagerly.
“Due to the scratches and bruises we have determined he was dead before thrown down the stairs.” Inspector Brown says,
“Cuts, splinters, and wounds from tumbling down the old staircase and to the concrete floor made it troublesome to discover the leading cause for death.”
Mrs. White lowers her head in sorrow, “I could barely recognize his face.”
“He was attacked from behind, and due to a large wound in his back we have determined he was either stabbed or shot. No bullet has been recovered yet, but we will let you know as soon as possible.” Inspector Brown says
“Have you figured out the murder location?” asks Mrs. White
“Actually yes.” Inspector Brown says, “But we will not be disclosing that information just yet. We would like to confirm our weapon and location then ask some more questions to see who falls short of the truth.”
“Clearly Brunette is the man that is responsible.” Mrs. White says
“I don’t think so.” Sergeant Gray speaks up, “Based on horror stories we’ve been told about this elusive man, it doesn’t seem like his type of killing.”
“That’s what he wants you to think.” Mrs. White says
“I’m sorry,” Inspector Brown says, “Forgive me, but I thought you were accusing Miss Dove.”
“I was.” Mrs. White says, “I am. There are only two clear possibilities.”
“There are, in fact, more than two.” Inspector Brown says, “There are endless possibilities of what happened to Hugh Black. Brunette’s appearance may or may not be tied in with Hugh’s murder. I will not let Brunette become the number one suspect.”
“I understand.” Mrs. White says, “If there is nothing more I can do to assist you, I need to check on supper.”
“Actually I do have one question.” Inspector Brown says
“Yes?” Mrs. White turns to him
“Were all knives present and accounted for?” asks Inspector Brown as he flips open his notebook
“I do believe so.” Mrs. White says, “All but the one you have down at the police station.”
“Just out of personal curiosity,” Sergeant Gray speaks up, “Why did Dr. Black collect memoirs of famous spies? I couldn’t help but notice in the Library.”
“Dr. Black’s tastes were very eclectic.” Mrs. White says, “I remember when Dr. Black was just a boy.”
“You were quite young when you were hired on as a maid and nanny?” asks Inspector Brown
“Yes,” Mrs. White says, “I was only sixteen Sir Benedict saw me taking my younger siblings to the theater. You see, my mother died from a long sickness and my father turned to alcohol.”
“I’m sorry.” Inspector Brown offers sympathy
“If it wasn’t for my care for my siblings, Sir Benedict never would have seen my talents.” Mrs. White says
“So it would be safe to assume you have been working here since the age of sixteen?” Inspector Brown inquires
“I didn’t begin working her until I was nearly twenty-two.” Mrs. White says, “Sir Benedict had me attend to some of his less-rich friends to see if I was suited for such a large house.”
“It seems you were deemed suitable.” Inspector Brown smiles
In the Conservatory, Colonel Mustard enters with a glass of scotch in his hand. Madame Rose sits on the wicker sofa staring out at the lake through the large glass windows.
“Sorry,” Colonel Mustard excuses himself, “I figured you would want to be alone.”
“Have a seat.” Madame Rose invites him in
“We helped ourselves to a drink.” Colonel Mustard raises his glass, “In honor of Hugh’s memory. I hope you don’t mind.”
“It’s not as if I’ll be inheriting.” Madame Rose says, “No one likes the noisy psychic.”
“I was always quite fond of you.” Colonel Mustard nods
“You thought my abilities were ‘horse shit’ as you put it.” Madame Rose points out
“They are horse shit,” Colonel Mustard says, “But that’s the charm about you. You are always so imaginative.”
“I hope you realize how foolish you sound.” Madame Rose sighs, dejectedly
“So,” Colonel Mustard twirls the liquor is his glass, “Do you have any psychic feelings about the murder?”
“Only one,” Madame Rose says, “But this is not my intuition, it’s just common sense.”
“Which is?” asks Colonel Mustard
“The shotgun collected by Sergeant Gray and Inspector Brown,” Madame Rose pauses, watching Colonel Mustard flinch,
“We both know that shotgun belongs to you.”
“Someone found it in my room and rigged it to shoot at Hugh, or whoever was meant to enter the Study.” Colonel Mustard says
“The police have it.” Madame Rose says, “If they dust it for prints, you’ll be sure to be suspected. Plus you’ll be charged with having an unlicensed firearm.”
“I can’t steal it back.” Colonel Mustard says, “That alone would damn me before a jury. I’d hang for a murder I didn’t commit.”
“Oh believe me,” Madame Rose smiles, tongue in cheek, “Someone will hang for this. The English police don’t take well to French murderers.”
“That Brunette fellow is scum.” Colonel Mustard points out, “Did you hear his killed that poor young maid’s mother?”
“It should have been Brunette’s body crumpled at the bottom of those cellar stairs.” Madame Rose says
Mr. Boddy enters the Conservatory with Miss Peach on his arm.
“I’m sorry, mama,” Miss Peach apologizes, “I was just talking with Cousin Johnny about that man, Sergeant Gray.”
“It seems our lovely Melba is smitten.” Colonel Mustard says
“I am not.” Miss Peach blushes
“It’s good for the women in our family to marry young.” Mr. Boddy says, “Keeps the blood lines fresh and keeps the legacy strong.”
Miss Peach sits down in the chair to the right of Colonel Mustard, “I’ve heard this family has been ridiculously rich for generations.”
“Four generations of Benedict’s,” Mr. Boddy brags, “And we had noble standings before that. Earl Maxwell Black was the one who brought honor to our family and our name. We wear it with pride and that is why your great great great grandfather named this mansion after Maxwell Black.”
“Blackwell Grange.” Miss Peach smiles knowingly, “Was the house always this grand?”
“There have been renovations throughout the years.” Madame Rose explains,
“The Ballroom, for example, used to be a magnificent, enclosed loggia.” Mr. Boddy explains, “Then it was refurnished and set to a beautiful Louis XVI styled salon. We still have the original mirrors set in the transoms above the doors.”
“Enough of the history lesson,” Colonel Mustard says, “Don’t bore the poor girl to sleep! Tell us, Melba, you were talking of Sergeant Gray?”
“Well,” Miss Peach smiles, “He just seems really sweet, that’s all.”
“This is just what we need,” Mr. Boddy says, “Some cheering up.”
“I don’t see any harm in it.” Madame Rose shrugs
“Really mama?” Miss Peach beams, “Do you like him?”
“He keeps the town safe.” Madame Rose nods, “He is alright by me.”
“Thank you, mama.” Miss Peach hugs Madame Rose
Madame Rose, taken aback by the sudden display of affection, casually returns it out of sheer politeness.
“I think it’s wonderful to have you around.” Mr. Boddy says, “You should consider moving to Blackwell Grange permanently.”
“That is not for you to determine.” Madame Rose protests
“Uncle Hugh and I always agreed that if he never has any children, he will leave the family legacy to me!” Mr. Boddy says angrily
“You aren’t the master yet.” Colonel Mustard says
“We’ll see about that when Mr. Meadow-Brook reads the will.” Mr. Boddy says smugly, leaving the Conservatory
“Well, that was unfortunate.” Miss Peach says meekly
“Welcome to the family.” Madame Rose says sarcastically
Miss Peach smiles at her mother and then Colonel Mustard, “Things are gonna change for the better once Brunette is stopped.”
“He’ll be the one that hangs for this.” Colonel Mustard says, staring directly at Madame Rose
In the Dining Room, Miss Scarlet helps Yvette set the table.
“I’ve always found table arrangements so fascinating as a child.” Miss Scarlet says holding a dish
“I always love the way they shine in the candle light right before everyone comes in.” Yvette admits with a giggle, “They all reflect light a million different ways.”
Miss Scarlet picks up a Candlestick from the sideboard, “Do we have the other Candlestick for this one?”
“Je n’ai pas. It was taken by the police.” Yvette says softly, “They suspect it is a possible murder weapon.”
“A Candlestick?” Miss Scarlet clutches the twin Candlestick to her chest, “How morbid.”
“They also took a Wrench, a piece of Pipe, of course the Shotgun, Mr. Green’s Revolver, and a few other odds and ends. A length of Rope and a Fireplace Poker I believe.” Yvette explains, “There were more, I do not remember. Ask Mrs. White or Mr. Ash.”
“I heard he was stabbed.” Miss Scarlet says uneasily, “Professor Plum said it looked like stab wounds in his back.”
“Mrs. White says he was too bruised and bleeding to actually tell.” Yvette says
“My mother says he was bludgeoned over the head.” Miss Scarlet says, “I didn’t get a clear look at the body.”
“Miss Scarlet!” Yvette gasps, “Mon dieu! Do not talk so morbidly of Dr. Black.”
“Everyone wants to know.” Miss Scarlet says
“You were not close to him, I take it?” Yvette comments
“My stepmother always went on about him.” Miss Scarlet says, “I saw him quite a bit but never cared for the man.”
“I was not close with Dr. Black either.” Yvette admits, “I feel he only hired me for my body.”
Miss Scarlet looks over Yvette’s tight, revealing French Maid’s outfit.
“Well, the way you dress,” Miss Scarlet comments
“The way I dress?” Yvette says, “I came in here to ask for a job wearing a black buttoned up shirt. Dr. Black came over and started unsnapping each button. He put me in this and makes me dust the bookcases and sweep the hallways. I am no maid. I am his muse; something pretty for him to watch as he drinks and swears love to a gold digging woman and her brat.”
“I’m sorry,” Miss Scarlet says, “I didn’t know.”
“No one ever thinks to ask.” Yvette says resuming to setting the table
“Dr. Black was fond of my body too, for what it’s worth.” Miss Scarlet says, “He offered me jewelry to accept one date with him. We all know he just wanted to try the younger version of my stepmother.”
“It’s a good thing you turned him down.” Yvette says
“Who says I turned him down.” Miss Scarlet smirks
In the Study, Nurse Silver enters to see Miss Dove sitting in the high back chair drinking a glass of wine with a smile on her face.
“What can I do for you, Nurse Silver?” asks Miss Dove as she takes a sip
“I love him.” Nurse Silver says
“You don’t know him.” Miss Dove says, “He needs a real mother. He needs someone who knows how to be a good mother, and protect her son from all the dangers of the world.”
“You aren’t the same person anymore.” Nurse Silver says, tears welling up in her eyes
“Darling,” Miss Dove stands up, setting the wine glass on the desk, “I have always been the same person. I just put on the innocent act to impress the man I loved.”
“You disappeared for a long long time yesterday and when you came back you had a shotgun and then Hugh was found dead!” Nurse Silver lets the tears fall from her face
“Do you want to know if I killed Hugh?” asks Miss Dove placing herself directly in front of Nurse Silver
“I want to hear you admit it.” Nurse Silver says, grinding her teeth
“I wish I could,” Miss Dove says, “I loathed the man.”
“Then why was he marrying you?” asks Nurse Silver
“Hugh Black and I go way back.” Miss Dove says turning from Nurse Silver and picking up her wine glass from the desk. She finishes the rest quickly and goes to pour more.
“You only met Hugh when he ran into you in the park.” Nurse Silver says
“Oh, Constantine,” Miss Dove says pouring two glasses of wine and handing one to Nurse Silver, “Sweet, Constantine, have a seat.”
“What are you saying?” Nurse Silver sits on the edge of the desk
“Before Fivel was born I interviewed to be a maid here.” Miss Dove says, “Mr. Ash has always told me I looked so familiar but I just told him I used to frequent the opera. We both know with my salary that is not true.”
“Dr. Black didn’t remember you?” asks Nurse Silver
“Of course not.” Miss Dove says, “I had no sex appeal and he was hungry for others.”
“Oh, Hugh,” Nurse Silver cringes, gulping the wine down, “He was so blind.”
“No doubt he walked blindly into his own murder’s grasp.” Miss Dove says
“You did kill him.” Nurse Silver says
Miss Dove swallows her wine quickly, trying to choke back her tears, “I didn’t kill him. But I know who did.”
“What?” Nurse Silver asks
“I watched it happen.” Miss Dove says
“Where?” Nurse Silver’s face becomes hot and panicky
“The Library.” Miss Dove says, “With the Fireplace Poker.”
In the Library, Sergeant Gray and Inspector Brown close the doors, sealing off the room from the others. Sergeant Gray turns on a tiffany lamp in the corner, enlightening the somber room.
“Right there on the hearth rug.” Inspector Brown says motioning to the long-hair, fur rug in front of the fireplace
“That’s where he took his last breath.” Sergeant Gray kneels down to look closer at the rug.
“The killer took a pair of scissors or something and chopped off the fur that had blood on it.” Inspector Brown says, “You can tell in some spots.”
“Why throw the body in the cellar?” asks Sergeant Gray, “They knew the body would be found, why not just leave it at the murder scene?”
“To create confusion,” Inspector Brown says, “To toy with alibis, to send the guests minds into disarray.”
“Is it possible the killer was acting under orders?” Sergeant Gray says
“We’ve discussed this already.” Inspector Brown points out
“It seems either too random, or too well planned out.” Sergeant Gray says
“Well put.” Inspector Brown says, “We need to find out who did this.”
“Have you any idea as to who it is?” asks Sergeant Gray
“Oh yes.” Inspector Brown says, “I know exactly who it is. I just need to find a way of proving it.”
“Can you let me know?” Sergeant Gray says
“No,” Inspector Brown says, “I need you to get more in depth questioning done. I can’t tell you who the killer is, because you will be obvious and give away our advance.”
“You are right.” Sergeant Gray says, “Well, do you think the killer is likely to strike again? Or is it safe to assume that Dr. Black was the only target?”
“I am almost 100% certain of two things,” Inspector Brown says, “The first being that the killer is most definitely not Alphonse Brunette, and that the murder of Dr. Black is the only intended murder victim.”
In his bedroom, Colonel Mustard enters the room to find a lamp is already on. On his bed lies the Shotgun, a note attached.
“From a friend.” Colonel Mustard reads out loud, his brow furrowed and his hands shaky.
Several hours later, in the Study, insidious photographs are scattered across the desk. Wind blows in through the shattered window, through the drawn curtains and scatters the pictures slightly. One lands on the carpeted floor and lands in a moist red wine spot. Next to the red wine spot is a glass, next to the glass is the limp hand of a woman. The woman is non-responsive and the Study is dark and silent.
To Be Continued…