Episode 11 - "The Art of Murder" Part 3
Saturday, June 6, 1931
Pratton, Connecticut.
Pratton, Connecticut.
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The Lounge of Blackwell Grange is filled with worried, frightened faces. Sir Benedict Black the Fourth stands in front of the fireplace with his hands centered steadily on the top of his cane. His eyes are squinted so that he can see each face before him more clearly. The 87-year-old man is eerily even more intimidating in his skeletal frame than when he was strong and athletic. He glances at each person with judgment and skepticism. They were, after all, Hugh’s close friends. Mr. Ash enters the Lounge with a crimson-cushioned wheelchair and parks it behind Sir Benedict. The old man does not sit down, but nods to it with a distant smile.
“Ah, Aunt Burgundy’s wheelchair,” Sir Benedict sits down, “I haven’t thought of that old broad in years. She died when I was nineteen. She would creak around the upstairs halls in this thing, whacking on doors with her cane. She hated closed doors. She always said ‘we’re a family, we have nothing to hide.’ Crazy old woman... great at cards, though. I’ve never played a game of bridge as challenging as the ones we’d played together. Then again, I was quite young and inexperienced. It’s funny how hindsight does that to you. And while we’re on the topic of hindsight, I’d love for us to take our minds back to the moment when it was announced that I had died.”
“Ah, Aunt Burgundy’s wheelchair,” Sir Benedict sits down, “I haven’t thought of that old broad in years. She died when I was nineteen. She would creak around the upstairs halls in this thing, whacking on doors with her cane. She hated closed doors. She always said ‘we’re a family, we have nothing to hide.’ Crazy old woman... great at cards, though. I’ve never played a game of bridge as challenging as the ones we’d played together. Then again, I was quite young and inexperienced. It’s funny how hindsight does that to you. And while we’re on the topic of hindsight, I’d love for us to take our minds back to the moment when it was announced that I had died.”
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Miss Scarlet smokes a cigarette beside Mrs. Peacock, unconcerned by the words spilling out of the ancient man’s mouth. Sir Benedict pays no attention to Miss Scarlet, while eyeing her stepmother repeatedly. Her brain flashes with the horror of Edward Clay’s current state.
“Can I?” Mrs. Peacock looks at Miss Scarlet with pity in her eyes, reaching for the silver cigarette box on Miss Scarlet’s lap.
Miss Scarlet nods, opening the box for her stepmother. Mrs. Peacock places the cigarette between her lips and lights it with the large, round, brass lighter on the side table.
The two women sit in the back of the room in the window seat. The sound of rain dulls the tone of Sir Benedict’s voice.
“I can’t believe it,” Mrs. Peacock closes her eyes, taking a long drag off of the cigarette. She watches the smoke curl through the Lounge as she exhales.
“I hope whoever did that to Edward hangs for this...” Miss Scarlet’s shoulders are tense and rigid.
Across the room, near Sir Benedict and Mr. Ash, Nurse Silver and Yvette stand to the left of the fireplace, looking down at the fifteen photographs laid out on the coffee table for everyone to see. The disconcerted photographs give the room an overall feeling of morbidity. The walls, once feminine and delicate -- pink and red, like blooming roses... now appear vicious and carnal -- pink and red, like an open wound. Paired with the dark gray storm clouds outside and the yellow glow of the lamps around the room, a haunting, sullen feeling closes in around the assemble group.
“Can I?” Mrs. Peacock looks at Miss Scarlet with pity in her eyes, reaching for the silver cigarette box on Miss Scarlet’s lap.
Miss Scarlet nods, opening the box for her stepmother. Mrs. Peacock places the cigarette between her lips and lights it with the large, round, brass lighter on the side table.
The two women sit in the back of the room in the window seat. The sound of rain dulls the tone of Sir Benedict’s voice.
“I can’t believe it,” Mrs. Peacock closes her eyes, taking a long drag off of the cigarette. She watches the smoke curl through the Lounge as she exhales.
“I hope whoever did that to Edward hangs for this...” Miss Scarlet’s shoulders are tense and rigid.
Across the room, near Sir Benedict and Mr. Ash, Nurse Silver and Yvette stand to the left of the fireplace, looking down at the fifteen photographs laid out on the coffee table for everyone to see. The disconcerted photographs give the room an overall feeling of morbidity. The walls, once feminine and delicate -- pink and red, like blooming roses... now appear vicious and carnal -- pink and red, like an open wound. Paired with the dark gray storm clouds outside and the yellow glow of the lamps around the room, a haunting, sullen feeling closes in around the assemble group.
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Miss Dove and Mr. Green stand near the piano.
“Thallo, stop sheltering me,” Miss Dove stands behind Mr. Green, who is obviously blocking her from the photographs on the coffee table.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mr. Green says, “I’m just making sure you are safe.”
“I want to see them,” Miss Dove points towards the photographs.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Mr. Green says.
“Fivel’s missing and Hugh is being accused of being a serial killer,” Miss Dove it visibly exhausted and frustrated, “I want to see who I’m dealing with.”
Miss Dove forces her way out of Mr. Green’s grip on her upper arm. Miss Dove’s temples pulse with anger as she approaches the coffee table. She looks down at the photographs and furrows her brow, shaking her head in bewilderment.
“Thallo, stop sheltering me,” Miss Dove stands behind Mr. Green, who is obviously blocking her from the photographs on the coffee table.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mr. Green says, “I’m just making sure you are safe.”
“I want to see them,” Miss Dove points towards the photographs.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Mr. Green says.
“Fivel’s missing and Hugh is being accused of being a serial killer,” Miss Dove it visibly exhausted and frustrated, “I want to see who I’m dealing with.”
Miss Dove forces her way out of Mr. Green’s grip on her upper arm. Miss Dove’s temples pulse with anger as she approaches the coffee table. She looks down at the photographs and furrows her brow, shaking her head in bewilderment.
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“Hugh said it would be best if I hide away,” Sir Benedict explains, “He told me people were after anyone named Benedict Black the Fourth because that’s the name he stupidly chose when he killed all those people in the pictures.”
“Their resemblance was uncanny during Sir Benedict’s prime,” Mr. Ash remarks.
“You martyred yourself for your son’s sins?” Mrs. Peacock clucks in disgust.
“Mind you, he pinned the murders off on someone else. A man named Klaus Gold. He didn’t admit to his involvement until much, much later,” Sir Benedict speaks towards Mrs. Peacock with an uptight smirk.
Mrs. Peacock maintains eye contact for only a moment before looking quickly away and focusing her attention solely on the cigarette that she is smoking.
“We were very handsome men,” Sir Benedict takes a moment to reflect. The moment is tarnished as he glances down at the macabre display on the coffee table, “And that is why women were so eager to follow us off the end of the world. We had money, yes! But we were handsome, with insatiable lusts. I was a playboy and took advantage of dozens of women. For that I am guilty and deserved my time locked away from the world. But I never murdered anyone out of pleasure and enjoyment.”
No one responds. Sir Benedict creakily sits down in the wheelchair with the help of Mr. Ash’s arm.
“Blanche, why don’t you pour some brandies,” Sir Benedict motions to the wet bar.
Mrs. White nods obediently and opens the cupboard to the wet bar. She begins to take out glasses, “How many should I make?”
Mrs. Peacock, Miss Scarlet, Monsieur Brunette, and Colonel Mustard’s hands go up instantly. Sir Benedict nods as well.
Mrs. White pours six glasses of brandy, serving four to the guests who requested drinks, one for Sir Benedict, and taking the sixth for herself. She stands between Colonel Mustard and Mr. Ash, waiting for Sir Benedict to continue speaking.
Sir Benedict does not speak, but instead sniffs his brandy before drinking a generous gulp.
Miss Scarlet and Mrs. Peacock finish their drinks as quickly and discreetly as possible and begin on their second cigarettes. Monsieur Brunette and Ginger sit at the card table quietly listening to everything around them. Ginger spends the majority of the time trying to be as invisible as she can, while focusing on her father and waiting for any indication of what she should do or say. Colonel Mustard pulls away two side chairs to the right of the fireplace near the Lounge door for himself and Mrs. White to sit on. She smiles to Colonel Mustard as they sit. They touch their brandies together with a unison nod and drink till their glasses are dry.
“For years Hugh tries to convince me that he was innocent,” Sir Benedict says, “He told me a man named Klaus Gold was responsible for the mutilation of those women in the family’s Mediterranean Villa. He insisted he was rarely home and anyone could have used it. He even provided hotel receipts from Monte Carlo.”
“When did you first doubt?” Colonel Mustard asks, pouring a glass of brandy at the wet bar behind the sofa.
“When Herr Gold visited me in my attic chamber,” Sir Benedict knocks his cane against the Lounge floor for emphasis. He showed me these very pictures years ago.
“You’ve seen these before?” Nurse Silver points at the photographs scattered around the coffee table.
“Oh yes,” Sir Benedict says, “They were in my possession until just recently. You say you found them one of the passageway cells?”
“Yes,” Yvette nods quietly.
“We also found this,” Nurse Silver takes the Candlestick from the mantelpiece and removes the red candle from it, “There’s blood on the base. And there was blood all over the walls.”
“Dear god,” Mrs. Peacock gasps in horror.
“It said ‘your host is a monster.’” Nurse Silver explains.
“That much has been established,” Mr. Green says.
“What about Fivel,” Miss Dove looks up from the gruesome pictures, “We have to find him.”
“I’m afraid if he’s been missing this long, it’s probably already too late,” Sir Benedict replies with no emotion.
“Don’t say that!” Miss Dove shrieks, “You can’t give up on him. He could be lost, scared. He could end up anywhere in Pratton. We need to go out and get the police and organize a search.”
“That much is right,” Mr. Green says, “We need to get the police.”
“What about the others?” Mrs. White asks, “We still haven’t found Richard.”
“Last time we went out to look for someone we found more than we bargained for,” Mrs. Peacock shrieks, “Richard was with us.”
“What? When?” Mrs. White rushes over to Mrs. Peacock.
“When we found Edward,” Mrs. Peacock says, “I think he’d been drinking.”
“Where did he go?” Mrs. White asks
“He said he wanted to get everyone into the same room,” Mrs. Peacock explains, “Vivienne had fainted in the Billiard Room. Professor Plum ran off to get Nurse Silver’s medical bag. Sgt. Gray ran off to get everyone else. We haven’t seen Professor Plum or Sgt. Gray since.”
“What about Madame Rose?” Mr. Green looks around.
“Fivel, Rose, Peter, and Richard are all still missing,” Mrs. White wrings her hands together, pacing around the Lounge, “Who else? Are we forgetting anyone?”
“Dr. Black,” Nurse Silver says.
“He goes without saying...” Mrs. Peacock retorts.
“Edward, Olga, and that man on the road are dead,” Miss Dove says.
“Let’s get something straight,” Nurse Silver says, “That man on the road was his son.”
Her finger lands on Sir Benedict.
“They kept him alive. I was forced to be a part of it. He was a goddamn maniac.” Nurse Silver shouts.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t see the potential, Amy,” Mrs. White says, “We all know how you prided yourself as the reason for Professor Plum’s focus and success.”
“So all of you knew about this?” Miss Scarlet throws her cigarette on the carpet and stomps it out with her foot, “You people keep people as science projects and serial killers away from the gallows... you all deserve what’s coming once the police get here.”
“I wouldn’t pass judgment,” Nurse Silver narrows her eyes.
“I’ve admitted nothing,” Miss Scarlet says, “My life is an open book, I’ve never done anything wrong.”
“Oh, please!” Nurse Silver laughs, “Dr. Black has something on every single one of you. Yvette and I found it.”
“You found it!” Yvette denies involvement, “I kept watch at the door.”
“I didn’t get much time to sort through all of them,” Nurse Silver says, “But I did stop at yours, Vivienne.”
“What could Dr. Black possibly know?” Miss Scarlet shrugs, “As I said, I’ve never done anything wrong.”
“Men like to brag, Vivienne,” Nurse Silver says, “They always brag about their conquests -- the women they’ve taken. Opera directors and doctors often find themselves at the same parties...”
“That’s enough!” Miss Scarlet shouts in a firm, stern voice.
“It would be alright if you slept with one or two directors to land the role, but every single role you’ve ever played? That’s commitment to your art.” Nurse Silver taunts.
“You bitch!” Miss Scarlet leaps at Nurse Silver. Hair is pulled, fists pound against backs, and arms are bitten.
“Enough, enough!” Colonel Mustard and Mr. Green break up the fight between the two women.
“Jesus!” Miss Dove paces around the piano, “I don’t know what to do. Fivel is out there and no one seems to care. No one is doing anything about it. We are just writing him off for dead.”
“Brenda, we’ll find him,” Mr. Green walks away from Miss Scarlet and Nurse Silver, rejoining Miss Dove by the piano, “I promise you, we will find that boy.”
“You keep saying that, Thallo, but he still hasn’t been found, has he?” Miss Dove turns away from him, facing the window.
“Okay, it’s time to go out into the rain and find that kid,” Mr. Green speaks in a commanding voice, “Mike?”
“I’ll get the flashlights from the Kitchen,” Colonel Mustard taps Mrs. White on the shoulder as they open the Lounge doors. Miss Dove and Mr. Green follow Colonel Mustard and Mrs. White into the Hall.
“I’ll help,” Monsieur Brunette hurries out of the Lounge, “I’d never wish ill on a child. Please, I know how you must think of me, but I will not rest until he’s found.”
“Thank you, Alphonse,” Miss Dove nods, “I won’t forget this.”
Monsieur Brunette pats her on the shoulder as he passes, striding over to the front doors. He opens them, allowing rain to blow inside. Mr. Green joins him at the rainy door frame. Mr. Green pulls out his Pistol from his waistband.
“I’ll keep Fivel safe,” Mr. Green nods to Miss Dove.
Miss Dove pulls out Boddy’s Revolver, “If I see Hugh, I won’t hesitate.”
Mr. Green and Monsieur Brunette close the front doors on their way out into the rain.
“Let’s get those flashlights,” Mrs. White leads Colonel Mustard and Miss Dove down the Hall to the other end, “We have three, but I think only two of them work. I think we have a few oil lanterns in the cupboard in the Conservatory.”
“I’ll get them,” Miss Dove breaks off from Mrs. White and Colonel Mustard as they reach the back Hall.
Meanwhile, in the Lounge, Miss Scarlet, Mrs. Peacock, Nurse Silver, and Sir Benedict have turned their attention to the card table, where Ginger sits, trying to be as quiet and unnoticeable as possible.
“I think it’s time we get some answers,” Mrs. Peacock sits down at the card table directly across from Ginger.
“I’ve told you everything,” Ginger replies timidly, “I pretended to be Emily Peach just like daddy told me...”
“I want to know about your daddy,” Mrs. Peacock says, “We met years ago in Paris. We had a lovely four day affair. He was a tremendous lover - bravo. But there was always a burning question in my mind. Who is Alphonse Brunette?”
“I wish I could help you...” Ginger puts her hands up nervously, “I just don’t think...”
“Tell me the first thing he ever made you do,” Mrs. Peacock interrupts.
“Why?” Ginger asks.
“Because it might help me empathize with you a tiny bit more if I know what kind of man your father is,” Mrs. Peacock slams her palms on the card table, “Now tell me.”
“It was a diamond necklace,” Ginger speaks quickly, “It was really heavy. The lady who owned it kept it up on a mannequins bust on her dressing table.”
“How old were you, Ginger?” asks Mrs. Peacock.
“I don’t know,” Ginger shakes her head.
“How old?” Mrs. Peacock slams her hands down again.
“I can’t remember!” Ginger breaks down, “I’ve been doing it for so long. It’s all I can remember. I don’t know how old I was! What do you want me to say? Three? Four? Probably. I don’t fucking remember... please, just leave me alone. Please?”
“I’ve never told anyone this,” Mrs. Peacock reaches across the table and touches Ginger’s arm, “Not even Vivienne.”
Miss Scarlet’s ears perk up.
“My family had nothing when I was girl,” Mrs. Peacock frowns, “My father was injured from the war. He couldn’t walk more than an hour a day on the best days. My mother worked at the factory. Graphing till her fingers bled. Bringing home enough for two loaves of bread for the week. I lived on bread and what little we could grow in the filth we live in. My father got sick one winter and we watched him as he grew closer and closer to death...”
Mrs. Peacock’s voice breaks off, “I just can’t...”
“Patricia,” Miss Scarlet sits down at the table next to Mrs. Peacock, reaching out and touching her hand.
“After we buried my father,” Mrs. Peacock’s face remains still as tears trickle down her cheeks, “My mother told me she’s been trying to find other ways of making money. She told me men would pay a lot more for someone my age than they would for someone her age. I was only fourteen.”
“Christ,” Sir Benedict looks down at the carpet.
“It was easy,” Mrs. Peacock says, “You just close your eyes and pretend it’s not whoever it is. You just close your eyes...”
Mrs. Peacock stops again, “I’m sorry, I need some fresh air. Wow, it got really warm in here, didn’t it?”
“Are you alright?” Miss Scarlet begins to worry as Mrs. Peacock quickly gets up from her seat and rushes over to the Lounge door.
“I love you, Vivienne,” Mrs. Peacock says, “I did it all for you.”
Mrs. Peacock clings to the Lounge door frame.
“What are you talking about?” Miss Scarlet puts her hand to her chest.
“I ran the brothel I started off in until the Senator found out and had it shut down,” Mrs. Peacock exits the Lounge, slamming the doors behind her.
Miss Scarlet holds her hands to her head and sits down at the card table. Nurse Silver and Ginger both comfort Miss Scarlet as she begins to sob into the card table.
Sir Benedict sits alone watching the three women with sadness.
“Their resemblance was uncanny during Sir Benedict’s prime,” Mr. Ash remarks.
“You martyred yourself for your son’s sins?” Mrs. Peacock clucks in disgust.
“Mind you, he pinned the murders off on someone else. A man named Klaus Gold. He didn’t admit to his involvement until much, much later,” Sir Benedict speaks towards Mrs. Peacock with an uptight smirk.
Mrs. Peacock maintains eye contact for only a moment before looking quickly away and focusing her attention solely on the cigarette that she is smoking.
“We were very handsome men,” Sir Benedict takes a moment to reflect. The moment is tarnished as he glances down at the macabre display on the coffee table, “And that is why women were so eager to follow us off the end of the world. We had money, yes! But we were handsome, with insatiable lusts. I was a playboy and took advantage of dozens of women. For that I am guilty and deserved my time locked away from the world. But I never murdered anyone out of pleasure and enjoyment.”
No one responds. Sir Benedict creakily sits down in the wheelchair with the help of Mr. Ash’s arm.
“Blanche, why don’t you pour some brandies,” Sir Benedict motions to the wet bar.
Mrs. White nods obediently and opens the cupboard to the wet bar. She begins to take out glasses, “How many should I make?”
Mrs. Peacock, Miss Scarlet, Monsieur Brunette, and Colonel Mustard’s hands go up instantly. Sir Benedict nods as well.
Mrs. White pours six glasses of brandy, serving four to the guests who requested drinks, one for Sir Benedict, and taking the sixth for herself. She stands between Colonel Mustard and Mr. Ash, waiting for Sir Benedict to continue speaking.
Sir Benedict does not speak, but instead sniffs his brandy before drinking a generous gulp.
Miss Scarlet and Mrs. Peacock finish their drinks as quickly and discreetly as possible and begin on their second cigarettes. Monsieur Brunette and Ginger sit at the card table quietly listening to everything around them. Ginger spends the majority of the time trying to be as invisible as she can, while focusing on her father and waiting for any indication of what she should do or say. Colonel Mustard pulls away two side chairs to the right of the fireplace near the Lounge door for himself and Mrs. White to sit on. She smiles to Colonel Mustard as they sit. They touch their brandies together with a unison nod and drink till their glasses are dry.
“For years Hugh tries to convince me that he was innocent,” Sir Benedict says, “He told me a man named Klaus Gold was responsible for the mutilation of those women in the family’s Mediterranean Villa. He insisted he was rarely home and anyone could have used it. He even provided hotel receipts from Monte Carlo.”
“When did you first doubt?” Colonel Mustard asks, pouring a glass of brandy at the wet bar behind the sofa.
“When Herr Gold visited me in my attic chamber,” Sir Benedict knocks his cane against the Lounge floor for emphasis. He showed me these very pictures years ago.
“You’ve seen these before?” Nurse Silver points at the photographs scattered around the coffee table.
“Oh yes,” Sir Benedict says, “They were in my possession until just recently. You say you found them one of the passageway cells?”
“Yes,” Yvette nods quietly.
“We also found this,” Nurse Silver takes the Candlestick from the mantelpiece and removes the red candle from it, “There’s blood on the base. And there was blood all over the walls.”
“Dear god,” Mrs. Peacock gasps in horror.
“It said ‘your host is a monster.’” Nurse Silver explains.
“That much has been established,” Mr. Green says.
“What about Fivel,” Miss Dove looks up from the gruesome pictures, “We have to find him.”
“I’m afraid if he’s been missing this long, it’s probably already too late,” Sir Benedict replies with no emotion.
“Don’t say that!” Miss Dove shrieks, “You can’t give up on him. He could be lost, scared. He could end up anywhere in Pratton. We need to go out and get the police and organize a search.”
“That much is right,” Mr. Green says, “We need to get the police.”
“What about the others?” Mrs. White asks, “We still haven’t found Richard.”
“Last time we went out to look for someone we found more than we bargained for,” Mrs. Peacock shrieks, “Richard was with us.”
“What? When?” Mrs. White rushes over to Mrs. Peacock.
“When we found Edward,” Mrs. Peacock says, “I think he’d been drinking.”
“Where did he go?” Mrs. White asks
“He said he wanted to get everyone into the same room,” Mrs. Peacock explains, “Vivienne had fainted in the Billiard Room. Professor Plum ran off to get Nurse Silver’s medical bag. Sgt. Gray ran off to get everyone else. We haven’t seen Professor Plum or Sgt. Gray since.”
“What about Madame Rose?” Mr. Green looks around.
“Fivel, Rose, Peter, and Richard are all still missing,” Mrs. White wrings her hands together, pacing around the Lounge, “Who else? Are we forgetting anyone?”
“Dr. Black,” Nurse Silver says.
“He goes without saying...” Mrs. Peacock retorts.
“Edward, Olga, and that man on the road are dead,” Miss Dove says.
“Let’s get something straight,” Nurse Silver says, “That man on the road was his son.”
Her finger lands on Sir Benedict.
“They kept him alive. I was forced to be a part of it. He was a goddamn maniac.” Nurse Silver shouts.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t see the potential, Amy,” Mrs. White says, “We all know how you prided yourself as the reason for Professor Plum’s focus and success.”
“So all of you knew about this?” Miss Scarlet throws her cigarette on the carpet and stomps it out with her foot, “You people keep people as science projects and serial killers away from the gallows... you all deserve what’s coming once the police get here.”
“I wouldn’t pass judgment,” Nurse Silver narrows her eyes.
“I’ve admitted nothing,” Miss Scarlet says, “My life is an open book, I’ve never done anything wrong.”
“Oh, please!” Nurse Silver laughs, “Dr. Black has something on every single one of you. Yvette and I found it.”
“You found it!” Yvette denies involvement, “I kept watch at the door.”
“I didn’t get much time to sort through all of them,” Nurse Silver says, “But I did stop at yours, Vivienne.”
“What could Dr. Black possibly know?” Miss Scarlet shrugs, “As I said, I’ve never done anything wrong.”
“Men like to brag, Vivienne,” Nurse Silver says, “They always brag about their conquests -- the women they’ve taken. Opera directors and doctors often find themselves at the same parties...”
“That’s enough!” Miss Scarlet shouts in a firm, stern voice.
“It would be alright if you slept with one or two directors to land the role, but every single role you’ve ever played? That’s commitment to your art.” Nurse Silver taunts.
“You bitch!” Miss Scarlet leaps at Nurse Silver. Hair is pulled, fists pound against backs, and arms are bitten.
“Enough, enough!” Colonel Mustard and Mr. Green break up the fight between the two women.
“Jesus!” Miss Dove paces around the piano, “I don’t know what to do. Fivel is out there and no one seems to care. No one is doing anything about it. We are just writing him off for dead.”
“Brenda, we’ll find him,” Mr. Green walks away from Miss Scarlet and Nurse Silver, rejoining Miss Dove by the piano, “I promise you, we will find that boy.”
“You keep saying that, Thallo, but he still hasn’t been found, has he?” Miss Dove turns away from him, facing the window.
“Okay, it’s time to go out into the rain and find that kid,” Mr. Green speaks in a commanding voice, “Mike?”
“I’ll get the flashlights from the Kitchen,” Colonel Mustard taps Mrs. White on the shoulder as they open the Lounge doors. Miss Dove and Mr. Green follow Colonel Mustard and Mrs. White into the Hall.
“I’ll help,” Monsieur Brunette hurries out of the Lounge, “I’d never wish ill on a child. Please, I know how you must think of me, but I will not rest until he’s found.”
“Thank you, Alphonse,” Miss Dove nods, “I won’t forget this.”
Monsieur Brunette pats her on the shoulder as he passes, striding over to the front doors. He opens them, allowing rain to blow inside. Mr. Green joins him at the rainy door frame. Mr. Green pulls out his Pistol from his waistband.
“I’ll keep Fivel safe,” Mr. Green nods to Miss Dove.
Miss Dove pulls out Boddy’s Revolver, “If I see Hugh, I won’t hesitate.”
Mr. Green and Monsieur Brunette close the front doors on their way out into the rain.
“Let’s get those flashlights,” Mrs. White leads Colonel Mustard and Miss Dove down the Hall to the other end, “We have three, but I think only two of them work. I think we have a few oil lanterns in the cupboard in the Conservatory.”
“I’ll get them,” Miss Dove breaks off from Mrs. White and Colonel Mustard as they reach the back Hall.
Meanwhile, in the Lounge, Miss Scarlet, Mrs. Peacock, Nurse Silver, and Sir Benedict have turned their attention to the card table, where Ginger sits, trying to be as quiet and unnoticeable as possible.
“I think it’s time we get some answers,” Mrs. Peacock sits down at the card table directly across from Ginger.
“I’ve told you everything,” Ginger replies timidly, “I pretended to be Emily Peach just like daddy told me...”
“I want to know about your daddy,” Mrs. Peacock says, “We met years ago in Paris. We had a lovely four day affair. He was a tremendous lover - bravo. But there was always a burning question in my mind. Who is Alphonse Brunette?”
“I wish I could help you...” Ginger puts her hands up nervously, “I just don’t think...”
“Tell me the first thing he ever made you do,” Mrs. Peacock interrupts.
“Why?” Ginger asks.
“Because it might help me empathize with you a tiny bit more if I know what kind of man your father is,” Mrs. Peacock slams her palms on the card table, “Now tell me.”
“It was a diamond necklace,” Ginger speaks quickly, “It was really heavy. The lady who owned it kept it up on a mannequins bust on her dressing table.”
“How old were you, Ginger?” asks Mrs. Peacock.
“I don’t know,” Ginger shakes her head.
“How old?” Mrs. Peacock slams her hands down again.
“I can’t remember!” Ginger breaks down, “I’ve been doing it for so long. It’s all I can remember. I don’t know how old I was! What do you want me to say? Three? Four? Probably. I don’t fucking remember... please, just leave me alone. Please?”
“I’ve never told anyone this,” Mrs. Peacock reaches across the table and touches Ginger’s arm, “Not even Vivienne.”
Miss Scarlet’s ears perk up.
“My family had nothing when I was girl,” Mrs. Peacock frowns, “My father was injured from the war. He couldn’t walk more than an hour a day on the best days. My mother worked at the factory. Graphing till her fingers bled. Bringing home enough for two loaves of bread for the week. I lived on bread and what little we could grow in the filth we live in. My father got sick one winter and we watched him as he grew closer and closer to death...”
Mrs. Peacock’s voice breaks off, “I just can’t...”
“Patricia,” Miss Scarlet sits down at the table next to Mrs. Peacock, reaching out and touching her hand.
“After we buried my father,” Mrs. Peacock’s face remains still as tears trickle down her cheeks, “My mother told me she’s been trying to find other ways of making money. She told me men would pay a lot more for someone my age than they would for someone her age. I was only fourteen.”
“Christ,” Sir Benedict looks down at the carpet.
“It was easy,” Mrs. Peacock says, “You just close your eyes and pretend it’s not whoever it is. You just close your eyes...”
Mrs. Peacock stops again, “I’m sorry, I need some fresh air. Wow, it got really warm in here, didn’t it?”
“Are you alright?” Miss Scarlet begins to worry as Mrs. Peacock quickly gets up from her seat and rushes over to the Lounge door.
“I love you, Vivienne,” Mrs. Peacock says, “I did it all for you.”
Mrs. Peacock clings to the Lounge door frame.
“What are you talking about?” Miss Scarlet puts her hand to her chest.
“I ran the brothel I started off in until the Senator found out and had it shut down,” Mrs. Peacock exits the Lounge, slamming the doors behind her.
Miss Scarlet holds her hands to her head and sits down at the card table. Nurse Silver and Ginger both comfort Miss Scarlet as she begins to sob into the card table.
Sir Benedict sits alone watching the three women with sadness.
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In the Hall, Mrs. Peacock rushes up the staircase, bumping into Professor Plum on the way.
“My apologies,” Professor Plum is shaken, “Are you alright, you look as though you’re crying.”
Mrs. Peacock looks up at Professor Plum with her mascara stained cheeks, “Everyone’s in the Lounge.”
Mrs. Peacock rushes past him and into the Second Floor Hall, where she climbs the stairs once more to the Third Floor of Blackwell Grange.
“My apologies,” Professor Plum is shaken, “Are you alright, you look as though you’re crying.”
Mrs. Peacock looks up at Professor Plum with her mascara stained cheeks, “Everyone’s in the Lounge.”
Mrs. Peacock rushes past him and into the Second Floor Hall, where she climbs the stairs once more to the Third Floor of Blackwell Grange.
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Back in the Lounge, Miss Scarlet takes a shot of whiskey.
“There you go,” Nurse Silver says, “We’ve all had a rough day. One shot to calm the nerves. No more than one. We aren’t here to have fun or drown our sorrows. We need to keep clear heads.”
Ginger looks down at her shot of whiskey and takes it slowly.
“Your father and Mr. Green will be back,” Nurse Silver assures her.
“I know,” Ginger says, “I’m just worried about everyone else. We don’t know where Dr. Black is.”
“No, but we know he has no intention of going to jail for this,” Professor Plum announces his arrival at the door.
“Peter,” Nurse Silver hurries from the card table to the Lounge doorway, “These are the pictures from the murders in Monte Carlo.”
“Oh, my word!” Professor Plum gasps in disgust, bending over to get a closer look.
“I’m not really comfortable with the fact that you are so casually referring to those pictures as the ‘murders in Monte Carlo.’” Miss Scarlet throws her hands up in the air.
“This case has been circling around this family for a while,” Professor Plum says, “Every few years an investigator comes by to make sure father is really dead and that Hugh is innocent.”
It is then that Professor Plum notices Sir Benedict in the corner of the Lounge.
“No!” Professor Plum turns and leaves the Lounge.
“Peter, I can explain!” Nurse Silver rushes over to Professor Plum.
“For years I truly believe my father was dead,” Professor Plum shouts stepping into the Hall, “Then when I found out he wasn’t, I didn’t know what to think. Now...”
Professor Plum disappears into the Hall.
“This place is unraveling,” Sir Benedict shakes his head.
“Dead people don’t usually come back,” Ginger shrugs.
“Would you two be dears and fetch me the family Bible,” Sir Benedict speaks to Ginger and Miss Scarlet, “It’s in the Library on the lectern.”
Ginger nods, slowly standing and exiting the room. Miss Scarlet stares at Nurse Silver on her way out with Ginger.
“You,” Sir Benedict motions to Nurse Silver, “Get into the Garage and make your way to the police station.”
“Alone?” Nurse Silver says, “What about the others?”
“You need to be safe,” Sir Benedict says, “You need to stay alive to take care of your son.”
“You know where he is?” Nurse Silver rushes over to Sir Benedict’s side, “You know where my baby ended up?”
“He ended up on the black market,” Sir Benedict says, “He ended up in the hands of horrible, terrible people. And then he was bought as part of a ruse. He was bought in an attempt to pose as the child of someone who needed to have a child.”
Sir Benedict reaches out and plays with a long curl of Nurse Silver’s blonde hair, which has fallen down from underneath her cap.
“No,” Nurse Silver’s face curls up in horror and sadness.
“Would it make it any better to know that Brenda knew the entire time,” Sir Benedict says, “Alphonse made it very clear to her when she sold Fivel to her.”
Nurse Silver stands up in a fit of rage as the room suddenly lights up with lightning. Sir Benedict laughs to himself as Nurse Silver exits the Lounge, slamming the doors behind her.
“There you go,” Nurse Silver says, “We’ve all had a rough day. One shot to calm the nerves. No more than one. We aren’t here to have fun or drown our sorrows. We need to keep clear heads.”
Ginger looks down at her shot of whiskey and takes it slowly.
“Your father and Mr. Green will be back,” Nurse Silver assures her.
“I know,” Ginger says, “I’m just worried about everyone else. We don’t know where Dr. Black is.”
“No, but we know he has no intention of going to jail for this,” Professor Plum announces his arrival at the door.
“Peter,” Nurse Silver hurries from the card table to the Lounge doorway, “These are the pictures from the murders in Monte Carlo.”
“Oh, my word!” Professor Plum gasps in disgust, bending over to get a closer look.
“I’m not really comfortable with the fact that you are so casually referring to those pictures as the ‘murders in Monte Carlo.’” Miss Scarlet throws her hands up in the air.
“This case has been circling around this family for a while,” Professor Plum says, “Every few years an investigator comes by to make sure father is really dead and that Hugh is innocent.”
It is then that Professor Plum notices Sir Benedict in the corner of the Lounge.
“No!” Professor Plum turns and leaves the Lounge.
“Peter, I can explain!” Nurse Silver rushes over to Professor Plum.
“For years I truly believe my father was dead,” Professor Plum shouts stepping into the Hall, “Then when I found out he wasn’t, I didn’t know what to think. Now...”
Professor Plum disappears into the Hall.
“This place is unraveling,” Sir Benedict shakes his head.
“Dead people don’t usually come back,” Ginger shrugs.
“Would you two be dears and fetch me the family Bible,” Sir Benedict speaks to Ginger and Miss Scarlet, “It’s in the Library on the lectern.”
Ginger nods, slowly standing and exiting the room. Miss Scarlet stares at Nurse Silver on her way out with Ginger.
“You,” Sir Benedict motions to Nurse Silver, “Get into the Garage and make your way to the police station.”
“Alone?” Nurse Silver says, “What about the others?”
“You need to be safe,” Sir Benedict says, “You need to stay alive to take care of your son.”
“You know where he is?” Nurse Silver rushes over to Sir Benedict’s side, “You know where my baby ended up?”
“He ended up on the black market,” Sir Benedict says, “He ended up in the hands of horrible, terrible people. And then he was bought as part of a ruse. He was bought in an attempt to pose as the child of someone who needed to have a child.”
Sir Benedict reaches out and plays with a long curl of Nurse Silver’s blonde hair, which has fallen down from underneath her cap.
“No,” Nurse Silver’s face curls up in horror and sadness.
“Would it make it any better to know that Brenda knew the entire time,” Sir Benedict says, “Alphonse made it very clear to her when she sold Fivel to her.”
Nurse Silver stands up in a fit of rage as the room suddenly lights up with lightning. Sir Benedict laughs to himself as Nurse Silver exits the Lounge, slamming the doors behind her.
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In the Hall, Mr. Green and Monsieur Brunette enter the Mansion through the front doors. Both men are sopping wet. Mrs. White is rushing from the Kitchen door.
“I don’t know how much help those flashlights are going to be.” Mr. Green asks, “We only made it around the Courtyard. It’s pour down hard. We could barely see a thing.”
Monsieur Brunette nods, “The wind is sharp and wet. my eyes still sting.”
“Do you need an umbrella?” asks Mrs. White.
Thunder rolls loudly, followed by a very close bolt of lightning which causes Mrs. White to suddenly drop both flashlights on the floor.
“Oh, shoot! I’m all thumbs!” Mrs. White picks them up, checking to make sure they work, “This one is fine. This one always flickers. It’s just dull.”
“I thought you said two of them worked.” Mr. Green sighs, taking the flickering one.
“They both still work! One just a little better than the other,” Mrs. White smiles with a nervous little hum.
“Where are Colonel Mustard and Mr. Ash?” Monsieur Brunette asks.
“I figured at least Colonel Mustard would help out...” Mr. Green peeks back outside.
“They decided to move Olga’s body to the back of the Dining Room.” Mrs. White says, “They thought it would be more tasteful.”
“Then we should probably get that boy off of the tennis net,” Mr. Green says.
“I was thinking the same thing.” Mrs. White says, “Let me just grab my raincoat.”
Mrs. White opens the cloak room door and pulls out a bright, white, rubber raincoat.
The three of them venture out into the well-saturated Courtyard.
“I don’t know how much help those flashlights are going to be.” Mr. Green asks, “We only made it around the Courtyard. It’s pour down hard. We could barely see a thing.”
Monsieur Brunette nods, “The wind is sharp and wet. my eyes still sting.”
“Do you need an umbrella?” asks Mrs. White.
Thunder rolls loudly, followed by a very close bolt of lightning which causes Mrs. White to suddenly drop both flashlights on the floor.
“Oh, shoot! I’m all thumbs!” Mrs. White picks them up, checking to make sure they work, “This one is fine. This one always flickers. It’s just dull.”
“I thought you said two of them worked.” Mr. Green sighs, taking the flickering one.
“They both still work! One just a little better than the other,” Mrs. White smiles with a nervous little hum.
“Where are Colonel Mustard and Mr. Ash?” Monsieur Brunette asks.
“I figured at least Colonel Mustard would help out...” Mr. Green peeks back outside.
“They decided to move Olga’s body to the back of the Dining Room.” Mrs. White says, “They thought it would be more tasteful.”
“Then we should probably get that boy off of the tennis net,” Mr. Green says.
“I was thinking the same thing.” Mrs. White says, “Let me just grab my raincoat.”
Mrs. White opens the cloak room door and pulls out a bright, white, rubber raincoat.
The three of them venture out into the well-saturated Courtyard.
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In the Dining Room, Mr. Ash and Colonel Mustard lay Professor Plum’s suit jacket over Frau Bloom’s corpse once more.
“At least she’s out of sight,” Colonel Mustard says.
“I still doubt anyone will eat in here ever again,” Mr. Ash shrugs at the thought.
“We all have to eat at some point,” Colonel Mustard says, “In fact, I could use a sandwich right now. I’m feeling a bit fatigued.”
“Your eyes don’t look right,” Mr. Ash says with a startled gasp, “Did you hit your head recently?”
Colonel Mustard immediately recounts the two bludgeoning incidents over the past twelve hours, “Nothing really comes to mind.”
“I’ll get you something to eat,” Mr. Ash hurries to the Kitchen, “Sit. Are you dehydrated? Have you had any water? You had a great deal of alcohol.”
“What? I’m fine,” Colonel Mustard pulls out a chair and promptly collapses onto the Dining Room floor.
“Colonel?” Mr. Ash calls out, “Colonel!”
“At least she’s out of sight,” Colonel Mustard says.
“I still doubt anyone will eat in here ever again,” Mr. Ash shrugs at the thought.
“We all have to eat at some point,” Colonel Mustard says, “In fact, I could use a sandwich right now. I’m feeling a bit fatigued.”
“Your eyes don’t look right,” Mr. Ash says with a startled gasp, “Did you hit your head recently?”
Colonel Mustard immediately recounts the two bludgeoning incidents over the past twelve hours, “Nothing really comes to mind.”
“I’ll get you something to eat,” Mr. Ash hurries to the Kitchen, “Sit. Are you dehydrated? Have you had any water? You had a great deal of alcohol.”
“What? I’m fine,” Colonel Mustard pulls out a chair and promptly collapses onto the Dining Room floor.
“Colonel?” Mr. Ash calls out, “Colonel!”
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Vivienne Scarlet and Ginger Brunette open the Library doors cautiously. The room is shadowy and foreboding. They appear to be the only ones in the room.
“There it is,” Ginger points to the Bible on the lectern.
“What on earth are they doing to him?” Miss Scarlet shrieks, running to the Library windows.
Outside, in the rainy Tennis Courts, Miss Scarlet watches in horror as three figures in brightly colored rain coats take Edward Clay’s body from the tennis net.
Miss Scarlet grows nauseous and dizzy as she watches him limply drop face-first onto the wet pavement.
“Vivienne, we should go back to the Lounge.” Ginger puts her hand on Miss Scarlet’s shoulder.
“I don’t understand...” Miss Scarlet covers her face as mascara drips down her cheeks.
“We need to go.” Ginger leads her away from the window.
“There it is,” Ginger points to the Bible on the lectern.
“What on earth are they doing to him?” Miss Scarlet shrieks, running to the Library windows.
Outside, in the rainy Tennis Courts, Miss Scarlet watches in horror as three figures in brightly colored rain coats take Edward Clay’s body from the tennis net.
Miss Scarlet grows nauseous and dizzy as she watches him limply drop face-first onto the wet pavement.
“Vivienne, we should go back to the Lounge.” Ginger puts her hand on Miss Scarlet’s shoulder.
“I don’t understand...” Miss Scarlet covers her face as mascara drips down her cheeks.
“We need to go.” Ginger leads her away from the window.
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In the Conservatory, Yvette paces back and forth while looking out the octagonal windows towards the lake. She is smoking a cigarette, carelessly flicking the ashes all over the stone floor.
Miss Dove enters the room, “I’ve never seen you smoke.”
Yvette coughs as she exhales a small puff of smoke, “It has been a long day.”
“It certainly has,” Miss Dove says, “Why don’t you make your way back to the Lounge.”
Yvette nods, leaving Miss Dove alone in the Conservatory.
“Oh Hugh,” Miss Dove closes her eyes. When she opens them, they land on a pile of Rope, “I can’t do this anymore.”
Miss Dove picks up the Rope from where it is lying in a heap in the corner near the end of the flower box. After unraveling the coil Miss Dove shakily holds up the noose that has already been tied. She walks over to the dark windows, looking out at the rainy window panes. She puts the noose over her head and slowly tightens it to her throat. She feels the pressure of the noose as she swallows. Tears stream down her face as she pushes the knot tightly around her neck. Her head begins to pulse and her face grows purple. Just as Miss Dove’s vision begins to fade she suddenly pulls the rope loosely around her neck, gasping and panting for breath.
Miss Dove enters the room, “I’ve never seen you smoke.”
Yvette coughs as she exhales a small puff of smoke, “It has been a long day.”
“It certainly has,” Miss Dove says, “Why don’t you make your way back to the Lounge.”
Yvette nods, leaving Miss Dove alone in the Conservatory.
“Oh Hugh,” Miss Dove closes her eyes. When she opens them, they land on a pile of Rope, “I can’t do this anymore.”
Miss Dove picks up the Rope from where it is lying in a heap in the corner near the end of the flower box. After unraveling the coil Miss Dove shakily holds up the noose that has already been tied. She walks over to the dark windows, looking out at the rainy window panes. She puts the noose over her head and slowly tightens it to her throat. She feels the pressure of the noose as she swallows. Tears stream down her face as she pushes the knot tightly around her neck. Her head begins to pulse and her face grows purple. Just as Miss Dove’s vision begins to fade she suddenly pulls the rope loosely around her neck, gasping and panting for breath.
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Mr. Ash stands in the center of the Dining Room, calmly... almost trance-like. On the floor near the windows, Frau Bloom’s dead body remains under Professor Plum’s coat. On the floor near the table, Colonel Mustard is lying prone.
“I can’t take much more of this...” Mr. Ash sits down at the table, “I knew it would all fall apart one day... I only hoped it would be after my time. I never wanted to experience so much loss.”
“I can’t take much more of this...” Mr. Ash sits down at the table, “I knew it would all fall apart one day... I only hoped it would be after my time. I never wanted to experience so much loss.”
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Nurse Silver stands in the Study with shaking hands, “You took my virginity and took my baby from my arms.”
Nurse Silver is staring up at an oil painting of Hugh Black.
“You take everything...” Nurse Silver leans onto the desk for support, “You take absolutely everything and leave everyone else for dead.”
Nurse Silver is staring up at an oil painting of Hugh Black.
“You take everything...” Nurse Silver leans onto the desk for support, “You take absolutely everything and leave everyone else for dead.”
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“Come on, Vivienne,” Ginger pulls Miss Scarlet by the arm across the Hall towards the Lounge doors, “We need to go back to the others.”
Miss Scarlet plants her feet firmly on the Hall floor, causing Ginger to slip from the sudden stop.
“Vivienne!” Ginger tries to get Miss Scarlet’s attention but sees that Miss Scarlet is staring at the staircase.
Miss Scarlet points towards the cellar door, which is ajar.
“I bet he’s down there.” Miss Scarlet yanks her arm out of Ginger’s grasp and makes her way towards the cellar stairs.
“Who?” Ginger asks.
“Dr. Black,” Miss Scarlet pushes the door fully open and turns towards the descending stairs.
In a sudden flash, Miss Scarlet realizes that the idea of Hugh Black’s involvement in Frau Bloom and Edward’s murders is both heresy and speculation. She is struck with the epiphany that the murderer is most definitely someone else in the mansion... Someone clearly more sadistic than the previously accused sociopath.
Dr. Hugh Black lies dead at the foot of the cellar stairs. A large area of the left side of his head has been smashed open. There is blood on nearly every step down to the concrete foundation of Blackwell Grange.
Miss Scarlet plants her feet firmly on the Hall floor, causing Ginger to slip from the sudden stop.
“Vivienne!” Ginger tries to get Miss Scarlet’s attention but sees that Miss Scarlet is staring at the staircase.
Miss Scarlet points towards the cellar door, which is ajar.
“I bet he’s down there.” Miss Scarlet yanks her arm out of Ginger’s grasp and makes her way towards the cellar stairs.
“Who?” Ginger asks.
“Dr. Black,” Miss Scarlet pushes the door fully open and turns towards the descending stairs.
In a sudden flash, Miss Scarlet realizes that the idea of Hugh Black’s involvement in Frau Bloom and Edward’s murders is both heresy and speculation. She is struck with the epiphany that the murderer is most definitely someone else in the mansion... Someone clearly more sadistic than the previously accused sociopath.
Dr. Hugh Black lies dead at the foot of the cellar stairs. A large area of the left side of his head has been smashed open. There is blood on nearly every step down to the concrete foundation of Blackwell Grange.
