The Butler Did It Part 3/3
For disclaimers see part 1
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"I," he replied stiffly, "am not inebriated."
"Right," grumbled Leo as he entered the room. "She's not at home."
"Thus logic suggests that she was on her way here" the President began.
"And a horrible accident happened?" Donna squealed with fear.
"And then what, her ghost appeared to Sam for a split second in the cafeteria?" CJ scoffed. "Obviously she was here."
"How can she be here if her car's not? Who the hell checked the parking lot?" Toby said in disgust before fixing his eyes on Josh.
"This is not my fault! It's not like I know Margaret's car-"
"Donna was with you right?" Leo asked pointedly. "Don't you know what kind of car she drives?" he questioned.
"A Toyota. A blue one. I'm not good with cars," Donna shrugged. "And he made me go inside," she accused Josh, giving him a push.
"Did not!"
"Did too- you kept saying how cold-"
"I never said any-"
" -it was and how dark it was-"
"-such thing! How can you-"
"-and how she could be lying unconscious-"
"-accuse me like that! My own-"
"-in a pool of rainwater or something," she glared at him.
"-assistant no less!" he glared at her.
Meanwhile, every one else had been swiveling their heads back and forth watching them argue. Realizing it was pointless to continue in this vein of questioning, Toby called for silence and began pacing the floor again.
"He's very dramatic," the President nudged CJ. "Have you noticed how well he's getting into his role?"
"Writers and amateur sleuths," she smiled back, though keeping a nervous eye on Toby and his path.
"I have a question."
Everyone's eyes turned to Sam. He stood by the couch fidgeting with a napkin.
"Speak, Samuel!" the President ordered. "This is getting to be like a soap opera."
"Are we clear that Margaret is somewhere in the building? I would just like to confirm that I am not crazy and you know, suffering from hallucinations-"
"I think we're all crazy for agreeing to this charade in the first place," muttered Leo.
"What about CJ's theory on writers and amateur sleuths?" the President asked Sam. "Didn't you want to write a mystery television pilot or something?"
"Uhyeah. A historical mystery series in which-"
"Oh God, here we go again," muttered Josh.
"-the Pilgrims of Plymouth Rock would churn butter by day and by night-"
"Solve crimes?" the President burst out laughing. As soon as his raucous laughter subsided, he managed to get out," That's what I love about this job. You know so many interesting people. I'm sorry Sam, but the idea sucks. Really. But how would modern day sleuths who let's say, run a country by day, solve a mystery of a missing person?"
"Uh" Sam was speechless.
"Oh for God's sake! Let's just ask Charlie. He's probably the only sensible one left in the building!" Toby exclaimed, not wanting to have his position as top sleuth taken away by Sam.
"He's gone already. Would've tried that when I made the phone call but he wasn't at his desk," Leo informed him.
"Charlie's missing now too?" Donna wailed.
"He probably went home to avoid the insanity. Can't say I blame him," remarked CJ casually.
"Enough of this. She's probably out in the building somewhere- most likely unharmed. Let's split up and look again," Josh said rising from the couch.
"I am not going along with you this time, bucko. Who knows what part of me will end up with a bruise," Donna announced, still feeling the ache in her shoulder.
"I didn't mean to fall into you- it just hap-"
And then, the lights went out a second time.
Mr. Green, who still had been pacing, ran right into Ms. Scarlet, who was inadvertently standing in his path. Both fell to the floor with a thud. Miss White, whose balance had been upset by Mr. Peacock grabbing her arm as the lights went out, collapsed onto the couch, pulling the aforementioned Mr. Peacock down with her. Professor Plum was silently counting underneath his breath and Colonel Mustard sat in the dark listening to the thuds and whispers while shaking his head and muttering, "I give up." Wadsworth dropped his napkin.
In sixty-seven seconds, the lights came back on.
"They're slipping," remarked the President, glancing up at the lights. Toby and CJ were busy picking each other up off the carpet. Josh and Donna shifted on the sofa, Donna blushing as she lowered the hemline of her skirt which had been pulled up in the scuffle. Josh pretended to look the other way.
Wadsworth belatedly realized that he dropped his napkin. Bending down to pick it up, he saw it again.
"Aha!" he cried, and seized upon the shoe that had the foot in it.
"Sam, get off me," said Margaret, who was on the floor behind the couch picking up papers she had dropped.
"Margaret?" Donna jumped up from the couch and turning to the other side, beheld her friend. "Margaret!" she cried again, happily, and crushed in into a big hug.
"Margaret's here?" Toby asked, a bit dazed.
"Get up off the floor," said Leo, relieved.
"This just gets better and better," commented the President jovially. "Margaret."
"Yes, sir?" she asked, her head popping up from behind the sofa.
"Come here and sit down. Let Sam serve you a drink. I want to hear all about what happened tonight so I can go upstairs and get some rest."
"Okay, I mean, yes, sir." Taking the chair vacated by Toby, who was now too angry to sit still, she began her story.
"I have been planning this murder mystery for weeks. So it just figures that this morning I forgot the profiles that you would each be given."
"Profiles?" asked CJ.
"You know, you're Ms. Scarlet, you have such and such a motive, and have such and such a weapon."
"Like the game," Donna filled in.
"Right. Anyway, so I went home to get the profiles- which were all mixed up 'cause my cat jumped onto the counter during the day and spilled them all onto to the floor and I had to resort them"
"Get on with it!" Leo groused.
"Right. So I went outside to my car and it wouldn't start."
"See? Told you so, told you we didn't see her car," Josh said triumphantly, smirking at Toby.
Toby just glared back.
Margaret, oblivious, kept going. "So after trying to get it to start, I decided I'd take the bus. I didn't have any change or a cell phone with me and if I ran back inside, I'd miss it and the next bus wouldn't come for at least another hour so I just left right then for it and didn't look back. I had to go in through a different entrance when I got here, on the North side, and didn't know how to get back to the West Wing."
"So what happened?" asked the President.
"I found a staircase downstairs which eventually lead to the mess. I was very wet after standing in the rain at the bus stop that I just slipped on the floor in the kitchen"
Sam sighed with relief.
"and then the lights went out and I got even more confused. But I found the right elevator and just went up, found my way in here."
"So, you weren't blugeoned with a rubber ball?" CJ said crestfallen.
"Or stabbed with a salad fork?" cracked Josh before Donna elbowed him in the ribs.
"Nope. Just knocked unconscious by her own slippery feet," said Leo, rising, "I don't want to do this again. Happy Birthday," he said, and left the room.
"Party pooper," the President mocked at his retreating form. "I guess I'd better be leaving too- Abby probably wants company to watch 'Mystery!' "
"Goodnight, sir," said Margaret.
"Goodnight, Mr. President," said CJ, Josh, Sam and Donna. Toby was still too angry to speak.
"I guess this didn't work out, huh?" said Margaret.
"Yeah, you could say that," said CJ.
"So whodunit?" asked Josh.
"What?" asked Margaret, confused.
"You said you had profiles, weapons and stuff. Who would have been the murderer?"
"Oh, that." Shuffling through her papers, she said finally, "Wadsworth-"
"The BUTLER," finished Toby, a positively beatific expression on his face. "I knew it."
"Hey- so did I!" CJ and Josh chimed in.
"I am not a murderer," Sam said with all the dignity he could muster.
Donna looked at the sheet Margaret had pulled from her stack. "Hate to tell you this Sam, but according to this, you are."
Sam swiped the paper from her hands and stared at it in wonder. "How could I be the murderer? How?"
"How many times must we go over this, Sam? The butler always did it," said Toby, smoothing out his mustache and leaving the room, idly humming the theme to Poirot.
THE END!!!!!
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