2020-03-07 - He Always Gets the A

No Sherlock Holmes, but she'd read the book! Inspector Featherbottom ponders the scene, trying to take everything in. Her attache is also with her. A steely eyed look encompasses everyone present as she attempts to formulate a plan on questioning. The cake, of course, might be poisoned, but there was more to take in. Her thoughts a little scrambled, she's not letting on to anyone, but she ponders several moments longer. Paul is given a pointed look since he had decided it was poison. "Doctor Byron, you said it was poison, that was your conclusion. What poison was used?"

"When I retrieved the slice of cake from the table, just before the waiter cleared it away, thankfully, I sniffed it and could definitely smell the aroma of arsenic" Paul replies. "It has dissipated now, being exposed to the air, but it was definitely in the cake. The cake that Samantha baked. My time as regiment doctor in India exposed me to a lot of poisons and venoms."

Taking up the room in his gray suit, Mister Greasebox, the Inspector's attache, menaces the suspects with a dirty look. They're all guilty, says his gaze, throw 'em all in the pokey. But, still, before he has to wrinkle his tweed, best let the inspector handle her business before he gets his hands dirty. "But y'all ate a piece, what. Iffn only 'im's icing is poisoned."

"Exactly!" protests Samantha, "We were all eating it. So it couldn't possibly have been in cake. Aresenic is certainly not in my recipe." She is rather indignant at the very suggestion.

Inspector Featherbottom narrows her gaze on the good doctor. Maybe good, who knows for certain. "That's a convenient accusation to make. Maybe it draws suspicion off of you. Maybe you would do anything for your wife." She lets that hang there a moment, since it's not a question but then her gaze settles on Madeline, the too young French wife of Alexander. "And you. Maybe he found out about your affair and you were afraid he would divorce you, leaving you penniless. How nice it must feel to inherit everything since there's no prenuptial." Again, just outward speculation. "With Alexander dead, Jonathan would hope the money went to him instead, not knowing the young wife is set to inherit. Or maybe Samantha thought her husband would inherit. Samantha, what do you imagine you stand to gain from the death of your brother in law? You baked the cake, acquired the poison possibly from the good doctor." At least she finally tosses a question in there while letting the attache know different thoughts and to watch expressions during her spiel.

"Affair! How dare you!?" Madeline glares at Inspector Featherbottom. "I loved my husband dearly. "Of course the money will come to me. He was my husband."

"That's not exactly true" offers Mary nervously. "Since the will has not been enacted yet, the money would go to Jonathan."

"And he certainly needs it" sniffs the doctor before looking affronted at the accusation of helping Samantha with the murder.

Samantha herself continues to be shocked. "I do not put poison in my cakes. I have a reputation to uphold!"

Pacing the room, Mister Greasebox puts a large paw on Jonathon's shoulder and squeezes. "What'er is I un heard about you importin' fings from Indah? Failed business, eh. Papa hadda pull your bacon outta tha fire before. Could stand for a right bit of cash, eh. What's it you importin' from 'em?" Mr. Greasebox leans down pulling his hand from Jonathon's shoulder until their heads are side-by-side, "Gruesome bit o business, eh. After you kill him, shack up wif hims widow and bleed 'er dry."

Mister Greasebox is NOT the kind of person who should not be allowed to talk to polite society, much less invited into it. Yet, Jonathan will do his best to answer the gorilla's questions, nervously playing with the regiment ring on his finger as he does so. "I import furnishings and trinkets from the sub-continent. It hasn't been going well, I admit. I have also diversified into animal imports. For zoos." His brow furrows as he tries to figure out what Greasebox actually said. "Shack up with...? How dare you?! I love my wife. I have barely met Alexander's wife. We weren't even invited to the wedding."

Getting the others riled is her idea of solving a case. See if someone will squeal on the other. Inspector Featherbottom is satisfied they are arguing. "Mr Jonathan stands to gain a lot from the death of his brother." The words are delivered flatly. "Maybe it's daddy's last bailout. One he's not even aware of making." Leaning in, she murmurs to Madeline. "You should read the small print love. You just lost everything. Including your husband." A sly look towards Samantha, the cook. "And you stand to win a lot. A fortune will buy you a ton of reputation, lady." Her attache is the muscle though and she looks at him for the next question.

And this is why this group don't pay taxes. To pay these savages would be demeaning. Since there are no questions from the Inspector, they stew and simmer at her words. "A reputation based on money?" Samantha looks horrified. "That is no reputation at all."

"Besides" adds Jonathan. "If I was convicted of this heinous crime, which I did not do, I would not get a penny. I have nothing to gain from murdering my brother and being caught."

The Inspector listens, having offended most all of them, she narrows her gaze on the silent one in the bunch. "Mary. It was really clever of you to kill your brother and leave it so your brother and his wife look guilty. It was the only way for you to finally inherit, since you're the bottom of the barrel. How did you get the poison in the cake?"

Mary gasps at the accusation. "I...I didn't poison the cake. We all ate the cake so how could it be poisoned? We don't even have any poison in the house." She looks to her husband for confirmation and he shakes his head in agreement to there being nothing in the house. "Next you'll be accusing me of poisoning the champagne I brought. But we all drank that too. What about the cigar that Madeline gave him?"

Madeline glares at her sister-in-law for a moment before walking over to the corpse, finding the cigar, and relighting it to puff away. "See. Not the cigar." Looking down on her ex-husband again, she decides that she will take his regiment ring at least. That will be worth something.

"Well of course it's not in the house, dear, it's in the cake. The A. He always gets the A. Everyone knows that, especially his wife and his siblings. And the cook. She eyes the ring and the identical one of his brother. "The ring is part of the investigation and I will want to see the identical ones so I can compare them."

The Inspector says. ^

"Yeah, aye. T'would be betah to a've your reputation be based on perp--perpet--, bloody 'ell, flippin' accent. Perpetrator pies and criminal cakes, eh, mum," replies Mister Greasebox to the cook. "But ain't no need to be thinin' that now, from your ill-gotten grains." Mister Greasebox couldn't help himself. He smiles with contentment, ever so slightly, towards the Inspector while she speaks and points the finger at the sister that's been very quiet. Narrowing his eyes for a second, the ape rolls his lower jaw, then points at the widow then faces Jonathan, and crooks a finger at the other man, "C'mon mate. Let's see that ring."

Then, slowly, the thug looks towards the Inspector. Once, the corner of his right eye twitches.

Madeline sighs as she hands over her ex-husband's ring. "If I may go, Inspector, I need to see to the funeral arrangements." And probably loot the house as much as she can.

Jonathan removes his ring and hands it over too with some reticence. It is very important.

The Doctor goes to remove his ring but it is no longer there. "Oh, of course, I took it off to examine Alexander better. It's a large ring and gets in the way." He pats his pockets, looking concerned when he can't find it. "I must have put it down on the table. The staff will be able to find it."

He's had a bee up his bonnet about Jonathon the whole time. So it's with great aplomb, that Mister Greasebox points at the man while booming his voice, "I think YOU killed him!" The sausage finger turns and points at the man's wife. "Your husband is an imbecile and he was destroying your family. You had to do something and do something fast before he bankrupted your whole family!" What happened to his accent?

The Inspector settles her gaze on Mary. "I'd say you're guilty. You have at your disposal all of the poisons of your husband and you knew you'd stand to inherit if your eldest brother was dead and your other brother was framed for it by poisoning the cake your sister-in-law served. The motive is always money and you would have gotten very rich, very quick."

The suspects look at each other as the final accusations are made by the police. Wary and suspicious they glare at each other. Jonathan shakes his head. "I did not kill anyone. And how dare you accuse my wife as well." Mary faints from the shock. Were they right? Who was the killer and how?

Slowly, one of them stands. The doctor! He used a spike on his poison tipped ring and piereced Alexander's flesh when he grabbed his arm earlier. The ring having disappeared as it would have given it away. The only way his mousy wife would inherit, would be to dispose of both Alexander and Jonathan.

Mister Greasebox looks frustrated with his incorrect selection, finally putting his arm down. "Bullocks."

Inspector is disappointed and frowns at the doctor. "You are under arrest." There's not anything else she can say, but she offers no apologies for her accusations.