Head in the Game

Tudor Mansion was everything legend had built it up to be; grand and luxurious but also imposing and even foreboding. Tim Parker stood in the large circular driveway and stared up at the 19th century multi-story edifice.

Christopher came out the front door to greet him.

His partner led him into the grand entrance Hall and through a set of double doors off to the right. Tim would have called this room a Study, due to a large antique desk in the far corner. There was also a pair of love seats and a coffee table set up in front of a marble fireplace.

Tim walked over to the far window by the desk. The body had already been removed, a chalk outline on the hardwood floor now in its place.

"The maid found the victim in here around 11 o'clock this morning. Called 9-1-1 but there was nothing to be done. He was pronounced dead at 11:27, time of death estimated around 9:30am."

"What do we know about him?"

"Leonard Boddy, 48, owner of the estate. Lives here alone, though often has guests and a maid that stay here."

"Cause of death?"

"Blow to the back of the head with a blunt object. Still looking for the murder weapon."

"Suspects?"

"Six. Had five guests for the weekend as well as the maid. They're all currently in the Ball Room waiting for your interrogation."

"Very well. Let me meet them briefly, but I'd like to question them separately in another area."

Christopher again led the way across the Hall and through another set of double doors into the large, high ceiling Ball Room. Five people were seated in chairs and one on a piano bench around the edges of the room. The center, a polished and slightly raised dance floor beneath an extravagant chandelier, was reserved for celebration and therefore vacant.

Tim surveyed the room for a moment then cleared his throat, gaining the group's attention.

"Good afternoon. My name is Inspector Parker, but please call me Tim. I'm sorry for your loss today and regret to keep you waiting. I will need to speak with you all about today's events. With your full cooperation we should be able to have you out of here in reasonable time."

Tim again took note of the room and its inhabitants, reading what little body language there was from the group. None of them spoke, though their silence seemed to have nothing to do with sorrow; they knew the murderer was in that room.

Once more across the Hall and Tim stepped into the Library. Shelves upon shelves of books from floor to ceiling greeted him. He made his way past a wooden and stained-glass globe and took a seat behind another desk, smaller and simpler than the one in the Study. He took out a pad of paper and pen from his pocket and took a deep breath.

"Send in the maid, please,” he instructed his partner.

***

Please state your name for the record.

"Emmeline White," said the maid. She was short, in her mid fifties, and still wearing a white apron over plain clothing.

"Alexis Scarlet," murmured a tall, dark haired bombshell in a red leather coat.

"Colonel John Mustard," answered the figure in a mustard yellow suit.. He certainly gave the appearance and aura of a military figure; broad chested and sandy mustache with a gruff bark and piercing glare.

"Reginald Green," said a middle aged businessman in an olive suit. 

"Jessica Peacock," said an older brown-haired woman, wrapping a blue shawl around herself and folding her hands nervously in her lap.

"Lawrence Plum," replied the last guest, straightening his glasses and buttoning his purple sweater vest.

How long have you known Mr. Boddy?

EW: “I've been working for him for 14 years. We met when he hired me."

AS: “I met Leonard 6 years ago, at a holiday gathering here at the mansion."

CJM: “11 years. One of my fellow officers introduced us at a fundraising dinner."

RG: “He invested in my accounting business about 8 years ago."

JP: “Our families have known each other nearly 20 years. We first met on holiday in England."

LP: “He attended my lecture on environmentalism 12 years ago."

Where were you between 9 and 10 this morning?

EW: “Cleaning up after breakfast in the Dining Room and Kitchen, then watering the plants in the Conservatory."

AS: “I finished my breakfast in the Dining Room then went to my room to freshen up."

CJM: “Doing my morning run around the outside grounds of the mansion."

RG: “In the Lounge, reading the morning paper."

JP: “Reading a book in the Conservatory and assisting Mrs. White with the plants."

LP: “Researching my next paper in the Library."

Can you think of any reason someone would want to harm Mr. Boddy?"

EW: “Money, I'm sure. All of his guests are moderately well off, but the man is a billionaire. Who wouldn't want more?"

AS: “Jealousy. We haven't announced it yet but we were going to be married this summer. Do you think you can arrange an escort for me? I fear someone found out and I'm their next target."

CJM: “Danggummit, no. The man was a fine fellow. Someone must have gone off their rocker for some harebrained reason."

RG: “Money, perhaps, or the estate.  You ought to check his latest will."

JP: “Heavens, no. He was a near perfect host. He would occasionally lock himself in that Study and pour over his finances, but otherwise he devoted himself to his guests. Always bent over backwards for us."

LP: “Other than money, no. But the man was generous enough, that doesn't make much sense."

***

Tim looked over his notes, frowning. No murder weapon, no obvious suspect and a couple of questionable motives.

He paused when he came to one of Mrs. Peacock's comments.

"Christopher, was the door of the Study locked when the police arrived?"

"No, but the maid said she unlocked it when she went to check on him."

Tim got up and they walked across the mansion to the Study entrance. He examined the lock on the door.

"Locks on the inside, but unlockable from either side," he reported. "Does anyone besides Mrs. White have a key?"

***

Mrs. White produced a key from her pocket. 

"Mr. Boddy has the other one. He likely had it on him this morning."

Tim made a quick call and confirmed the maid's statement.

"So Mr. Boddy was killed inside a room that was locked all morning, and you have the only other key to the room," Tim said gravely, looking at Mrs. White.

She turned as white as her name.

"The door isn't the only entrance to the Study," she rasped after a moment. "Please follow me."

She led them back into the Study and pointed to the fireplace.

"Flip that up," she said, indicating a smaller-than-normal switch to the right of the fireplace mantle.

Tim reached out a gloved hand and did as instructed. Slowly the entire fireplace and mantle came to life, moving forward and slowly revolving.

"All of Mr. Body's guests know about it, though he regularly discouraged us from using it."

"Please wait here," Tim instructed as the fireplace came to a stop halfway revolved. He and Christopher ducked into the fireplace and started down a small staircase.

"There's an identical switch on the other end!' called out Mrs. White as the entrance closed behind them.

"Cliche," mused Christopher, as both he and Tim lit flashlights and hit the bottom of the staircase. They walked along the long narrow passageway, shining their lights on the floor and walls as they went.

Tim stopped as his light came across a small white object. 

"It's a biscuit," he said, examining it. "Or at least half of one. It's hard, but not moldy. I don't think it's been here very long. Some critter would have found it after a day or so.

"Christopher, I think our killer definitely entered the Lounge through the secret passageway. Where does it come out?"

They followed the passageway up another staircase, where Tim flipped the switch on the adjacent wall. A door opened and they found themselves in a small, dark cupboard. They easily opened another door and walked into the Kitchen.

"Kitchen," Tim remarked, looking around. "Mrs. White is still our leading suspect, as she's the only one to have stated she was in here."

Christopher pulled a hand-drawn map from his pocket and consulted it.

"The Dining Room and Ball Room are both adjacent to the Kitchen," he reported.

They walked over to the Dining Room and surveyed it. It was nearly spotless, as Mrs. White had cleaned it after breakfast that morning. Tim's eyes were drawn to the center of the main table however, as something seemed amiss.

A large cornucopia was in the exact center, flanked by two brass Candlesticks on one side and three on the other.

"A bit odd, don't you think? Maybe not everyone is obsessive over symmetry, but this one doesn't even have a candle in it."

Tim picked up the middle Candlestick on the right eave of the table and examined it.

"I believe we have our murder weapon," he declared, showing Christopher the dark stain on the bottom. "The murderer was probably planning to get rid of it later."

"But we still need our who, and why," said Christopher, frowning.

Tim took a buzzing phone out of his pocket and read the message on the screen.

"Here's our 'why', he said, showing it to his partner.

"Mr. Boddy's latest will is dated only one week ago. His fortune and estate were to be left with a Miss Maggie Brown, his fiancé."

Tim stood tall and began to stride out of the Dining Room.

"I'm prepared to make an accusation."

***

"Miss Scarlet, in the Study, with the Candlestick!" yelled Tim, pacing his room. He threw a trio of cards and a tiny Candlestick onto a game board.

"Jealousy!” cried Christopher. “You were right, Miss Scarlet, but it was you that was jealous! You couldn't handle it that Mr. Boddy was in love and going to give his heart and fortune to someone else! Take her away, Tim!”

Two people stood outside the room, peering inside the partially open door.

"Seems like only yesterday they were dethroning Queen Frostine," their mother laughed, shaking her head.

“Let’s hold off on Risk,” Mr. Parker whispered, “less they start planning world domination."