Ten Little Indians
Cluedo:
You will be surprised by the end!
______________________________________________
Everybody was gathered in the Parlor after supper. Rogers had yet to come out with the tea, but they hardly took notice. They were far too worried to even think about the novel suggestion earlier. The gentlemen were pacing back and forth thinking deep into their own thoughts as the rain poured down the sides of the windows in a drizzle....it made for a quiet, nervous atmosphere. Suddenly into this quietness, Wargrave spoke up...
"I've been thinking," He announced, as he walked into the center of the room, "What was it General last said during breakfast?"
"None of us are going to leave the island," Reminded Blore as he stood by the fireplace, "I remember it quite distinctly; quite the vague old man he was. He sounded almost resigned to his fate."
"Eight little Indians traveling in Devon; One said he'd stay right there, and then there were seven...," Recited Vera Claythorne almost instinctively.
"An interesting point I was getting to," Said Judge Wargrave in reply, "I don't know about the rest of you, but it seems our homicidal "Mr. Owen" who may indeed be in this room, this very moment, is committing his murders in accordance to the nursery rhyme that had been put in our rooms..."
He stopped for a moment and cleared his throat.
"Yes, I was beginning to see that myself," Replied Philip Lombard folding his arms, "Each death so far on this island corresponds with each verse from the rhyme! It couldn't possibly be a coincidence! Anthony Marston chokes on whiskey after dinner, Mrs. Rogers oversleeps herself during the night and dies, and now General MacArthur had made a death-wish to not want to leave the island!"
"But why!?" Cried Vera in confusion.
"My dear, I'm sure you and I can see that our killer is indeed a madman," Explained Lombard a little callously.
"That's not all," Interrupted Dr. Armstrong, "Rogers showed me those Indians on the mantle yesterday after his wife passed away. There were only eight then...and now.."
"There are only seven," Said the Judge, finishing the doctor's sentence.
Miss Brent's face was turning a rather sharp colour.
"I'm ready to go to bed," She announced rising.
"My dear, you shouldn't go alone," Warned the Judge, smiling a little ruefully.
"Of course!" Blurted our Blore suddenly, "Where is Rogers anyway!? That man was supposed to come with the tea half an hour ago! It surely couldn't take a man that long, I tell you."
"Yes," Said Miss Claythorne, shuddering a little, "That man makes me uneasy. It's the way he still continues with his duties even after his wife died."
"Of course! It's Rogers I tell you!" Bellowed Blore, almost jumping, "I wouldn't be a moment surprised if he did his wife in. In fact, I wouldn't be shocked if he was in the Kitchen planning our deaths right now!"
"Oh yes," Agreed Miss Brent, "It's very possible that Rogers is the possessed one out of us. "
"Interesting notion Mr. Blore, but quite unlikely." Disagreed the Judge.
Blore swung around and in his usually bullish-voice,
"Oh yeh? And why not?"
"Because he hasn't got the brains for one thing!" Reminded Lombard, backing up the Judge, "That man is as dull as a rock. Although, I've been thinking, and I'm also quite certain he and his wife did that old lady in as Miss Brent said. I mean you can see it in his face..."
That's when Rogers stumbled into the room, almost falling over. It was now clear as to why he didn't bring the tea in...anybody standing close by could certainly smell the whiskey that lingers in his breath.
"I..is..that what you think of me, then..." Rogers stuttered drunkenly, "Is it...so you all think I'm the murderer eh!? You think..I killed Miss Brady!?"
Lombard attempted to intervene,
"Now Rogers my boy, listen..."
But Rogers angrily spun around.
"I don't need to listen to you, MISTER LOMBARD!"
"Easy now Rogers!" Silenced Wargrave sternly, "Perhaps if you cleared up what was accused against you, it would help the rest of us feel a bit better."
"We...never killed Miss Brady!" Insisted Rogers, sweating profusely, "She was sick I tell ya! We couldn't find a doctor, my wife and I couldn't...and she died!"
"Came into a bit of money did ya?" Jeered Blore, maliciously.
Rogers eyes narrowed.
"Miss Brady left us her gratitude!" He growled back, "She wanted our...devotion. she did! We didn't kill her! No we didn't! And that's what you all think then...that I'm a murderer...then..then...I SHANT SERVE ANY MORE MEALS!"
And with that he staggered off, leaving the remaining six bewildered.
"One by one we make our confessions..." Whispered the Judge to himself thoughtfully. Then aloud to the others he suggested that they ought to go to bed.
Everyone agreed.
Cluedo:
Hardly a word was said as each guest proceeded upstairs to their respectable bedrooms. Self-preservation was on everybody's minds and they nervously proceeded to their rooms and promptly followed by the sound of the shot of the bolt and click of the locks.
"Don't forget to lock your door tonight Miss Brent," Reminded Vera cautiously.
"Oh don't worry," Answered back Emily Brent without a hint of fear in her voice, "I intend to do so right enough."
"You know, Miss Brent it's quite odd," Vera said suddenly, thinking hard.
"Oh...what's odd?" Answered Miss Brent coolly.
"You seem awfully unperturbed by all that has been happening," Observed Vera, "In fact, you appear to be downright calm.."
"My parents raised me in a strict and proper environment," Informed Miss Brent, without a hint of aggressiveness, "I was brought up to never make a fuss, no matter how dire the circumstances are. With God watching over me, I shall have no fear. Hopefully that explains things a bit better, my dear."
"Repressed as a child," Vera thought, "That accounts for a lot."
"But aren't you afraid?" Asked Vera, "Or you just don't mind dying?"
It was though somebody had pricked Emily Brent in the brain...something cracked beneath the surface of her skull.
"Dying?" She thought, "This girl just doesn't understand. The others may die soon enough, but Emily Brent is surely not going to die! None of the other Brents were ever afraid...so I certain shall not as well. I have nothing to be ashamed of....so naturally I shall not die."
"My dear...it's getting late, Now if you excuse me...."
They both went their separate ways....
Vera stood in her bedroom and looked out the window. The rain had died down to a near stop. Now just a mere drizzle...but how the waves still crashed up on shore! Then she realized...somebody was out on the balcony!
Slowly she proceeded to the door, her hand feeling for something...something to strike the figure...until he turned around. It was Philip Lombard!
His calm yet puzzled look eased her to join him out on the balcony.
"What are you doing out here, Philip?" She asked, "It's quite chilly from the storm tonight."
Lombard smiled at her with his pointed wolfish teeth....
"Just getting a bit of air before the rain picks up again." Lombard replied, "I don't think I will be getting much sleep tonight."
"How anybody possibly sleep?" Asked Vera wearily, "When we are all trapped in this horrible dream!"
Lombard made a grim face.
"This whole thing is incredible," He said, "And how I wish that what the Judge said about one of us being the killer wasn't true, but after what happened to the General this afternoon leaves no more doubt...this is definitely murder going on. Now we must keep on our guards."
Vera lowered her voice,
"If...if it is one of them, which one do you think it is?"
"Exempting ourselves you mean?" Lombard replied in a humored manner, "Well I'm alright with that. I know I'm not Mr. Owen and I don't fancy you are the killer either, Vera. You strike me as one of the most sanest and level-headed girls I've seen. I'd stake my reputation on your sanity."
Vera gave a shy smile.
"Thank you," She replied wryly.
"Come now, Miss Claythorne! Aren't you going to return the compliment?"
Vera smiled at him again, and relaxed her hand...almost touching his.
"Well, I don't know...I wish to know if you left those natives to die..."
Lombard smiled again, only this time a little more bolder.
"It's a bit of story, but yes, I left them to die."
"Well then, you admit now that you don't hold human life sacredly.."
She looked at the dashing Lombard opposite of her.
"But I can't say I see you as the man who dictated the accusations....but now I'm wondering who did?"
"If you want my opinion..." Lombard answered, "I'd plump for Wargrave."
Vera looked at him a little shocked.
"The Judge?" She exclaimed, "Why?"
"That old man has played God Almighty in the courts year after year. That kind of power must go to a man's head eventually. It's possible that with all his power of life over death, he may snap and wish to go one step forward and want to become Executioner and Judge Extraordinary."
"That's possible..." Vera answered.
"Why, who do you plump for?"
"Dr. Armstrong." Vera replied without a hint of doubt.
"The Doctor eh?" Lombard replied, "You know, I would have put him on the last of the list..."
"Oh no!" Refuted Vera, "All that work must eventually put a lot of strain on a doctor such as him and cause him to go mad! Also don't forget that he has access to all his drugs and poisons for Tony and Mrs. Rogers."
"But he was with us when the General was supposedly killed!" Lombard reminded.
"He didn't do it then," Vera answered, "He had an opportunity later when he went off to bring him to lunch. He said the body had been dead for an hour, but he's a doctor! Who's going to contradict him!?"
They both looked up to each and stared in each other's eyes. A knowing, trusting smile came across their faces.
"You know, my dear that's a clever idea of yours! I wonder...."
Downstairs, Rogers was frantically washing his hands and face. He was also sweaty as he was sobering down a little....
"Come on man, pull yourself together..." He thought to himself, while shaking, "Oh God...oh God. I hope there are no more little Indian tricks tonight...I see to that! I'll see to that myself!"
The rain was now picking up in full swing again. The seven prisoners pondered in their rooms as the storm raged on....
What storm waits for them tomorrow!?
END OF PART I
Cluedo:
PART II
It was waking up from a dream. The sunbeams glowing from outside on the crisp waves, the breeze wisping off from the high cliffs; Peace itself. One could possibly even forget the ghosts that haunt the night before, and only the dew; a hint of the storm remained. Cheerfully, a song bird would chirp as a graceful an albatross would swoop by. Yes, peace had returned to Indian Island....
Dr. Armstrong was fully dressed as he stepped out from his room and onto the balcony. The breeze blew through his hair as he lifted his head back and inhaled the salty sea air. What a rush it sent through the body!
The railing of the balcony was still damp from the rain the night before. (But Armstrong was certainly ready to forget the night before!) His spirits were rather high however. He walked along a little ways until he reached the end of the balcony where he could go no further. He looked down....and saw a figure walking along the beach. Curious it was.
Just who was this mysterious early-bird stroller?
Cluedo:
Lombard had a habit of waking up early as he did the night before. Already he was sitting in the Parlor all ready and dressed. This time, he was up before Blore which was a little surprising.
"You're up rather late than usual Blore," Commented Lombard, playing with his tie.
Blore yawned.
"Slept the clock round I suppose Mr. Lombard," Answered Blore shrugging his shoulders.
Lombard stood up as Judge Wargrave entered.
"Good morning gentlemen," Wargrave greeted, "I trust you all had a good sleep."
"Quite well if I do say myself," Answered back Lombard, "I don't suppose anybody has the time?"
Wargrave looked at his watch,
"It's about a quarter till ten," He replied.
"Well I'm getting hungry," Announced Blore, "Where's breakfast?"
Suddenly Dr. Armstrong entered the room...
"I wouldn't count on breakfast yet," Reported Dr. Armstrong, "I poked my head in the kitchen. Rogers hasn't even started the coffee yet."
"Perhaps that chap is still asleep?" Suggested Blore.
"I find that difficult to believe Blore," Lombard disagreed, "That man should have been the first one up out of all of us!"
Just then, Vera Claythorne entered the room quietly.
"Miss Brent isn't in her room," She reported softly....
"Well that makes two people strangely absent," Concluded the Judge, scratching his forehead.
"Wait!" Dr. Armstrong burst suddenly, "I almost forgot! I did see some person strolling along the beach! I watched from my balcony...I couldn't see who it..."
Suddenly, they heard the front door open. Into the room came Emily Brent, looking calm, placid and upright.
"Well Good Morning," She announced, "The sea is as high as ever. I shouldn't think a boat would be put out today. "
"Were you wandering alone just now Miss Brent?" Asked Blore nervously, "Don't you realize that's an incredibly foolish thing to do?"
"I assure you Mr. Blore that I kept an extreme lookout," Reassured Emily calmly.
Blore grunted,
"Seen anything of Rogers?"
Miss Brent's face hardened,
"No, I haven't seen that man at all. Why?"
"Oh he's probably still asleep then," Figured Blore, "Perhaps we better go wake him..."
"I'll go too," Volunteered Dr. Armstrong, "Errr...just in case."
The two hurried down the hall and into the corridor that accessed the servants room....
Inside, the body of Mrs. Rogers still laid as she always had been, though the face was now turning a rather sickly white. Roger's bed was vacant however...
"Looks like the man got up alright..." Blore said, "But where the devil is he?"
Dr. Armstrong looked around and picked up a straight razor from the desk.
"His razor is still wet," He reported, " He's obviously gotten up this morning, that's quite clear, but I just don't understand...I really don't..."
Back in the parlor, like a instant reaction, Vera grabbed the Judge with such athletic fingers, it made him wince.
"Look! Judge!..." She pointed at the Indian statuettes on the mantle, "There...are only six!"
Astral Faery:
Oh boy. Things are getting very suspenseful. I'm really enjoying this story so far and can't wait to see what befell Mr. Rogers. I love how they're starting to suspect the others. It will be a real treat to find out what's behind all of this. I'm really happy I haven't heard this story before - because I don't know what's coming next. You have some really beautiful shots in this chapter. I love the scene of Dr. Armstrong on the balcony - a nice view of the stately manor - did you build that yourself? And the shot of Miss Brent on the beach is just gorgeous with the ocean water.
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