Mrs. White stared at the darkness of the shadows of her white, crumpled skirt. The gathering had started, but no conclusions had been drawn. She did not wish to suffer here, especially under Mrs. Peacock's jeering glances. She wished they would end this, here and now, and she may go back to the quiet mansion. There, for once, she would not slog immediately like she was paid to. She would return to her small room at the servant's corner of the huge house and sleep on the comfortable bed.

"So you mean to say," Mrs. Peacock declared, her eyes furious, "I am the one to kill Master Black and I'm trying to hide it now! Do not be ridiculous!"

"It is the nature of the culprit – in other words, your nature," Mr. Plum replied, "to yell thief. We all know your nature, Mrs. Peacock. You, who took Miss Scarlett's pearl and claim it for your own while organising a wide search in the entire mansion for it, making it a mess everywhere, and a nuisance of poor Mrs. White, who wished dearly to go visit her sickly mother!"

"Your persistence in insisting that I did it is annoying me! If the thief is calling thief, then you should be the one who I the likely culprit!"

"Say a word of fairness, Mrs. White!" Mr. Plum turned to the silent woman. "Now, keep that fearful look away and utter a word of justice! You had been here the longest, being employed by Mister Black for years long enough to form a decade and more – you know her nature best!"

Mrs. White blanched. She? She is to say a word of justice against Mrs. Peacock? There is no way she could do it! She stared at Mr. Plum, her mouth open slightly in an attempt to make some sound.

"Do not be demanding," Miss Scarlett drawled. "Poor Mrs. White. We all know what Peacock did and not did. There is no need for a confirmation with Mrs. White."

"Do not speak of me as if I am not here," Peacock said through her teeth.

"I'll have to disagree with you, Miss Scarlett," Mr. Green interrupted an imminent fight between the two ladies. "I, for one, did not know if Mrs. Peacock did or did not kill Mister Black."

"Nonsense! Me, killing Mister Black! When will you give up that idea? I did not organise this little gathering to discuss my involvement with Mister Black's death! Though I can safely say that I am not the one whim did it. What of my motive? I have none, and so it cannot be me!"

"Everybody knows you have had disagreements with Mister Black." Colonel Mustard muttered.

"Mere disagreements!" Peacock exclaimed," I, Peacock, would never resort to crimes for mere disagreements!"

"Those are your words, but only yours." Scarlett replied. "You may not know a man's heart until you had opened it up with a knife."

"I am certain I do not know any man's heart as well as you," Peacock retorted.

"What are your implications?" Colonel Mustard cried in defence of the lady, "Miss Scarlett would never kill a single man, let alone one such as Mister Black, who had been so kind to all of us."

"Much kinder to Scarlett, I would think," Peacock lifted her head high up, "how would we know if they had some disagreements under the blanket?"

"Madam!"

"There, there," Mr. Green said, interrupting the arguments that flew across the billiard table rapidly. "Do we have enough of that? At this rate, we may never know who killed Mister Black. If we may all listen to me, I have an idea – a suggestion of how Mister Black died."

"Why, he died in front of the staircase!" Peacock said immediately.

"But we would know if he did. Surely, from our positions, we would have heard something. So I dare say the crime was not committed there. The question now is who, where and what."

"You forgot the why," Peacock said absentmindedly.

"The why is not important. If we dwell on it now as we did before, the search may never end."

"Pray! Let it end," Professor Plum said, "I've never been so adverse to sleeping in my own bed before, knowing that somewhere in the same house lurks a murderer.

"If I may be allowed to make my conjecture?" Mr. Green asked.

"Not before we do. You have been living in the mansion for the shortest period of time, Mr Green. The privilege goes to us before you."

"I agree to it," Plum said.

"Your conjecture then, Mrs. Peacock?"

"I say," Mrs. Peacock's eyes turned to the people sitting around the table, landing finally on the one who sat away from her, "Miss Scarlett, you were very suspicious on that day, weren't you?"

"I was away the entire time." Scarlett flicked her fingers as if to toss the accusation away.

"But you were there when Mister Black was dead," Peacock narrowed her eyes.

"I was the one who found out he was dead." Scarlett laughed, "you could ask the driver; he accompanied me on my trip and sent me back in the night. And there Mister Black was lying dead on the red carpet when I was making my way back to my room."

"She tells the truth," Mr. Green said. "I checked with the driver. You all know Jims – he is an honest man; he is as honest a man as you can get. The man does not lie at all."

"She could have cheated Jims – the man was dim-witted; he would never know when he was cheated. She could have returned to the house when he was not aware and killed Master Black, returned to show her face and have Jims drive her back."

"You have no way of proving it," Scarlett said.

"Tell me now, was Jims with you the entire time you were away from home?" Peacock challenged.

"She only needed two hours," Plum noted, "the body was found at 10:15 and the last one to pass the staircase was the Colonel at 7:45."

"Jims drove me out of town. How was I to race home, commit the murder and return to Jims within that time?"

"Quite an impossible feat," Mr. Green agreed.

"Why, Mr. Green, has she got you as well?" Peacock raised her eyebrows.

"You were a dog with a precious bone when it comes to me, weren't you?" Scarlett asked, her tone dripping with dislike.

"I would never treat you like a precious bone, I assure you." Peacock replied. Then, abruptly, she turned to the man besides her rival, "what say you, Colonel?"

"I say the one with the most possibility is Mr. Plum."

"Me!" Plum thumped the glass onto the table angrily, splitting his drink all over. Yet, he did not seem to care, for his attention was turned to the accusing man, whose attention was on his brandy.

"When I last talked to you, you were angry about Mister Black wishing to raise the rent. You thought that he was out to chase you away, and I could swear your eyes were full of hatred."

"Mrs. Peacock was equally angry! Now, if you insist on it, fine! Where could I have done it! How could I have done it? Black towered over me. I may be angry at him, but I would never cross him, much less kill him!"

"The greatest fear can result in the worst deed." Peacock replied to that, looking down her nose on him.

"Where could Mr. Plum have done it?" Green asked.

"I say he did it in the billiard room. The man was hit on the head, weren't he?"

"Impossible!" Plum snorted, and Green smiled.

"I was with Mr. Plum in the billiard room, actually." Green admitted. "That was where we heard Miss Scarlett's scream and rushed to the scene.

"I say you did it!" Plum added, his eyes gleaming.

"Nonsense," Mustard said, sloshing on his brandy.

"It was obvious. Miss Scarlett was away the entire time, until she found Mister Black's body. I was talking to Mr. Green in the billiard room, and everyone else was busy. Where were you, then? I say you are the one!"

"You forgot the 2 hours time frame," Scarlett said helpfully.

"Who do you think did it then?" Colonel asked Scarlett, who replied, "I think Mrs. Peacock did it."

"How many times must I repeat that I would not have organised this-"

"Save the story, Mrs. Peacock. Why don't you just tell us where you were the entire two hours when Mister Black was dead?" Scarlett replied, picking up the bottle of red wine to refill her glass.

"I was in the kitchen, with Mrs. White." Peacock said, venom dripping in every word. She turned to White and said, "you saw me, didn't you? Tell them you saw me when you came into the kitchen in that dreadful apron – you must have came in from the garden; your apron was dirty with soil. We met again later when I came back from the dinning room to get my feather pen. Mrs. White was cleaning my room – I was worried you might have soiled my furniture with that dirty apron of yours. There I stayed until I heard you scream, Scarlett."

"Was she telling the truth?" Plum asked White. All eyes turned to the Mrs. White, who said, "yes, she told the truth. I was just passing by the kitchen then…. And I did see her entering into the room…"

"Only for a while each time!" Plum said with glee. "In other words, you do not have an alibi for the entire 2 hours!"

"How could I have killed Master Black?" Peacock demanded.

"Mister Black gave you a dagger, didn't he?" Plum said with his eyes glinting.

"In that case, I say you were the one who did it – you had a better chance of success with that revolver he gave you as compared to the rusty old knife I had. I did not even like that darned thing."

"You do not have to like it to use it." Scarlett said.

"True," Colonel Mustard nodded.

"Quit thumping your tail to her every sentence!" Peacock snapped at the man before turning to Plum, "I can tell you – the knife is broken into two pieces. There is no way I could have used it to kill. You, on the other hand, could use your gun to kill Master Black."

"If I have used it, everyone in the house would have heard it." Plum said, and Mrs White nodded her head in agreement. The argument was solid – there was no way Plum could have used the revolver.

"I am curious though, why don't you show us your broken dagger?" Mr. Green asked Peacock. "You did request us to bring our gifts from Mister Black."

"Go ahead and examine it for all you wish," Mrs. Peacock dug into her bag and toss the two pieces of a preciously very oriental dagger onto the table, where it landed with solid thuds.

"Here is my revolver. It was still loaded," Plum offered the gun as an afterthought as Mr. Green leaned over to examine the broken dagger.

"You could have gotten bullets and reloaded it." Peacock replied.

"I daresay the dagger got a huge chance," Mr. Green said after a while of silence. He looked up from the table and said to the crowd of gathered people, "when the body was examined, there were knife cuts on the shirt, weren't there? And it cut the skin too. When was the knife broken, Mrs. Peacock?"

"How was I to know? I always leave it in the cabinet after he gave it to me. I discovered it to be broken only when I took it out today."

"The cut could be from another knife," Colonel said suddenly, "that dagger would not have done the job."

Mr. Green shook his head, "I am sure of it. The fact that it was broken and that I had examined some rust on the cut on the shirt was prove to that. It must have came from the dagger as it tore the shirt." That silenced everyone for a moment. "To be sure, let's all produce our gifts," Mr. Green finally said. Obediently, the wrench, the candlestick, the noose and the lead pipe were produced and placed on the table. The weapons were examined.

"The wrench look like it could have killed the man," Colonel Mustard muttered as he picked it up and pulled it down quickly in a pretend-strike. He lifted the weapon and tried it again. "It would kill even that bear of Mister Black," he said, nodding to himself.

"There was a head injury – he was hit with something." Scarlett added.

"May I be allowed to make my conjecture now?" Mr. Green asked after he had examined all the weapons.

"Mrs. White had yet spoken. Do not skip her," Mrs. Peacock replied. "Speak now, Mrs. White, before that man does."

"I … I do not mind."

"Go ahead, Mrs. White. You must not pass your chance. Mr. Green can wait for a minutes more before he speaks again." Colonel Mustard said.

"I…"

"Who do think did the job?" Peacock asked.

"I think…. " White looked around at the table, looking lost, as if she had no idea who to point to. In actual fact, she was lost. She had no idea how she should suggest at all, and she was once again, lost for words.

"Who?" Peacock asked, impatient.

"Mr. Green," White finally said desperately, "you could have hit Mister Black with your lead pipe."

"And where were I to do it?" Mr. Green asked.

"In… in the… ballroom! It was empty at that time. You could have done it there."

"Where were you, Mr. Green, before we met in the billiard room?" Mr. Plum asked.

"I was in my own room, changing my clothes. Mrs. White had accidentally dirtied my clothes when she was hurrying about. She saw me entering my room."

"Did she see you leave?" Peacock asked.

"I was alone until I met Mr. Plum in the billiard room – that was only for a few minutes of time. I could not have done it."

"If he had done it," Mr. Plum said after some consideration, "wouldn't I have heard something?"

"That's my man!" Mr. Green declared. "Now," Mr. Green rubbed his hands together, "for my turn."

"Go ahead," Plum said.

"I think," his eyes looked around the table, considering each and every member of the gathering carefully before he finally turned his eyes back to the one person he had been aiming at, "you are the one who did it."