A/N: I have named the hotel! Now just to name the chapters... I don't own Star Trek or Sherlock Holmes-style (which is way better than Gangnam Style). Go nerds!

I only managed to catch about an hour and a half of sleep right before dawn. While the examination had taken up half of the remaining night, the results kept me pondering for the rest of it. Too soon I was awakened by Spock shaking my shoulder telling me that everyone was meeting in the lobby before breakfast. I groaned and got up. They weren't going to like what I had to say.

Sure enough, everyone was there, milling about quietly. Vincent was pacing near the employee side of the hotel, Bird was watching him, Leslie was in a chair, and the Gordons were whispering in a corner. I frowned as I descended the stairs. Someone was missing. Looking behind me, I saw Spock escorting Brice. There he was.

Everyone quieted and then Spock spoke. "Mrs. Gordon, have you had any success in wireless communications?"

Mrs. Gordon, surprised that she was being addressed, tried to disguise it with a haughty air. "Not with that storm still raging," she snapped.

I glanced out the window. Although raining, it certainly wasn't 'raging'.

Spock merely nodded. "I have also been unable to contact our ship. Mr. Bird, are the lines still down?"

He nodded.

"And it is logical to assume that the road is still flooded," Spock concluded. "Very well. Doctor, what are the results of your examination?"

I took a deep breath. "The knife didn't kill Harrison Landsworth."

There was certainly a reaction. Many people started and then began talking at once. Leslie stood up abruptly and cast a glance at Brice. He just looked like he didn't know what to think.

When things quieted down, Vincent said "well, who did?"

"I don't know," I answered. "There were no fingerprints on the body. I do know what ultimately killed him." Another breath. "He was poisoned."

Mrs. Gordon nearly swooned. "And here you tell us, right before breakfast."

"The poison wasn't ingested, ma'am," I said. "It was delivered through skin-to-skin contact. I found inflamed areas on the hands and face where he made contact with it. After exposure, it worked its way into his immune system, and, simply put, caused it to freak out. His body started attacking his own cells until it killed him. I estimate he died about 20-30 minutes after exposure."

"And the knife wound?" Spock asked.

"Made post-mortem."

"Why would someone want to kill a dead man?" Mrs. Gordon complained. I hid my snicker at her phrasing.

"There are a couple reasons," Spock began. "First, to perhaps ensure that the victim is dead; second, to hide the evidence of the real murder weapon; third, it is a psychopathic characteristic; and fourth, mere spite."

Everyone looked a little green. Even Spock, but, well…

After a long moment Leslie spoke up. Her voice was low and hoarse. "We should have a funeral service."

"Are you sure?" Brice said tentatively. "Shouldn't we wait for the police?"

"Parton," Vincent said. "She just lost her father in a terrible, unexpected way. Now instead of having his body rot while we wait for the storm to clear, she wants a funeral service for him. So we're going to have it." He looked at anyone who would disagree.

"It's not logical," Spock said. "The police will need to examine the body-"

"-and they can do that after the service!" Vincent insisted. "Ever heard of exhuming someone?"

"That will contaminate the-"

"Oh, for the love of-!"

"Hey!" I shouted. Everyone looked at me, but I looked at Leslie. "Miss Landsworth," I said. "We can have a service, but understand that we can't bury the body. Not yet. Besides, wouldn't you rather bury your father on a brighter day than a wet one filled with gloom?"

She looked out the windows. The rain was still coming down in sheets. "It is terrible weather for digging," she said at last. "But where are we going to keep him? Surely, he can't stay in your room, Doctor."

Bird stepped in. "Landsworth can stay in his own room," he said. "For the service we can lay him out on the bed and cover him with a blanket. I can spray some chemicals to keep the smell away."

"Will that be alright?" I asked gently.

After a moment she nodded. "Yes." Leslie drew herself up. "Let's honor my father."

We gathered in Mr. Landsworth's former room after breakfast. Vincent and I had carried the body there. I had looked around the employee rooms and found they were remarkably similar to the guest wing; it was just a shorter hallway.

Landsworth was covered with a sheet and we all had a moment of silence. Then Leslie got up and stood by the foot of the bed.

"Father was always very kind," she began. "And gentle. He could be firm, especially in business, and sternly enforced what rules there were, but he would always listen to you if something was on your mind." She paused. "He may have been a bit rigid in his views on society, but that was part of what made him old-fashioned… and led him to build this hotel." Leslie sighed. "As according to his will, I am taking over management of the hotel Jana."

Someone stiffened. I glanced over and saw Brice looking concerned. Leslie looked at him back, an apology and a longing in her eyes. This was interesting. I filed it away for later.

Bird also got up and spoke. He had worked for Landsworth 38 years, 29 of them in the hotel. Vincent also added some words. I thought we were done when Brice shyly walked up and faced us.

"Landsworth-" his voice was dry and scratchy so he took a moment to clear it. "Mr. Landsworth was a good, hardworking man. We may have… had our differences, yet despite this," he swallowed. "I admired his ethics." Brice came back and stood by Leslie. It didn't escape my attention when their fingers intertwined, once, briefly. As Spock was sure to say; fascinating.

We had another moment of silence, then filed out one by one. I walked with Spock through the lobby and up the stairs into his room. I shut the door and reclined on my heels.

"So how long are you planning to wait before we get the police?"

He looked at me. "It is not a matter of waiting in that respect, Doctor. We cannot call for aid until the storm abates."

I looked out at the lashing rains. "If we were desperate enough someone could go on foot."

"Perhaps, Doctor. We have not yet reached that critical point."

I raised an eyebrow. "Have we? In case you haven't realized, there's a murderer in our midst."

"I am well aware of that. However, until we know who, there is not much we can do."

I shook my head. "Everyone's going to be jumpier than a cat in a room full of rocking chairs."

Spock raised an eyebrow, but did not reply. He'd heard that phrase too much from me.

"So," I said, sitting in a chair. It was hard to find one, he had lab equipment on almost every surface of the room. "Brice and Leslie seem cozy."

Spock looked at me. "What makes you say that, Doctor?"

"I thought you were supposed to know everything," I retorted. He didn't rise to the bait and I sighed. "The way they look at each other. Try to maintain formality but fall back on each other's first names. Plus, they were holding hands at the funeral."

"Indeed…" He considered this. "They were also the two to find Mr. Landsworth's body."

"And Brice said that they had had some 'differences'," I grew more excited, but at the same time knew everything was completely unfounded. Well, maybe not completely. "Spock, if two young lovers wanted to get married, but one's father disapproved, what would you do?"

"Negotiate," Spock said.

I rolled my eyes. "Don't think logically, for once, just once! You and your partner could elope. Or you could go ahead and get married. Or you could get rid of the disapproving party."

Both eyebrows went up. "Are you suggesting that Mr. Parton and Miss Landsworth conspired to murder her father?"

I waved a hand. "Just speculating; commenting on my observations is all. Helps me think."

"That explains much." Spock turned away as I frowned.

"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" I tossed at him. He didn't turn around and just kept fiddling with the equipment- which meant yes.

"You could try talking to yourself every now and then," I said, settling back in my chair. "You'd be surprised at the things you realize." I looked around the room. "For instance, did you notice how fitting this hotel's name is for our current circumstances?"

"Jana?" Spock mused.

"C'mon, man," I said. "I know you're caught up on Earth history. Jana was the Greek goddess of secrets, mysteries, and hidden things."

I'm loving this. And you should see my outline. It's quite intimidating. But that just means there's more to come, so stay tuned! (By the way, the whole 'guess where I got the name Harry Bird from' is still a go. But it's not Harvey Birdman. And it's not really relevant to the story, it's just a fun sort of thing). Please review!