Author's Note: Thanks, as always to everyone who reads and those special few who review. I'm discovering I quite enjoy writing to prompts, I may even open up one of these to take suggestions from my lovely readers once we finally catch our Cluedo murderer? I do enjoy a challenge ;) And don't worry, Roseandthistle, I do have a lovely one coming in Let's Misbehave that was too cheerful for Cluedo ;) xx DB
Cluedo Note: Six people (FiBeen, LemmingDancer, PinkFairy23, Ethelfreda, Frienze and I) are playing a fanfic version of MFMM Cluedo. Murdoch Foyle has been murdered in Miss Fisher's House. We must discover the name of the murderer, the weapon and in which room the murder was committed. Every player must 'investigate' by writing a fic (100-1000 words). Each round, more and more clues can be crossed off their list. The first person to solve the mystery will write the story of Foyle's death and earn great praise for their cleverness. If you would like to play your own game please PM GameMaster19 for the rules and instructions.
Dislaimer: SURPRISE! I own neither Miss Fisher nor Cluedo.
It was a perfectly ordinary Thursday evening in the Fisher household.
Phryne was in the parlour reading the evening post while sipping chilled cocktail; Mr Butler was in the kitchen shelling peas for the evening meal; Jane was in the dining room doing her homework for school; Jack was in the entrance hall hanging up his hat for the day; Cec was in the cellar restocking shelves with the delicacies for a week of entertaining and Bert was in the courtyard mending strings of lights for decorating the porch.
The house had that quiet hum of a collection hardworking people individually engrossed in their task at hand.
Until suddenly, from somewhere upstairs, Dot screamed. And kept on screaming as a shot rang out and glass broke.
Jack, being closest to the stairs, raced ahead as the household dropped what they were doing and ran towards the terrifying sound but he paused at the top of the stairs, suddenly irresolute as to direction with so many closed doors before him.
Phryne, with no such confusion, grabbed his elbow and together they raced towards the door at the end of the corridor that belonged to Dot as Jane, Mr Butler, Bert and Cec (huffing and puffing as he brought up the rear) charged along behind them.
Phryne threw open the door, preparing to rush in to rescue Dot from danger and stopped just as suddenly; Jack, Jane, Mr Butler, Bert and Cec cannoning into her in their hurry to render assistance.
There was a moment of pandemonium as the rescue party were forced to disentangle themselves but finally Jack managed to make himself heard over muttered curses (the rescuers) and continued shrieking..
"Miss Williams!"
And just as suddenly as the noise had begun, there was silence.
Six pairs of eyes focused on Dorothy Williams who stood alone in the centre of the bedroom, Miss Fisher's golden revolver clasped in outstretched arms pointing towards the broken window, her eyes screwed tightly shut.
"Has He gone, Miss?" Asked a timid voice as Dot cautiously opened first one eye and then another.
Heaving a silent sigh, Jack thought wistfully of the quiet evening which had seemed to be within his grasp only minutes before, having left the Station at the time listed as the end of his shift for the first time in over a month.
Looking from the broken glass, to the rope knotted to the banister of the balcony, to the smear of something dark red against the light tiles Jack had the feeling it was going to be a very long night indeed.