Disclaimer: Not at all affiliated with Parker Brothers, CBS or Bruckheimer Productions, just borrowing the character names for a bit.
Clue
Chapter One
The Body
The dead body lay on its stomach in front of the fireplace; arms and legs sprawled and angled, looking very much like a generic white chalked outline.
A stunned silence filled the room; all eyes were on the amateur detective who'd flown in from Minnesota, never dreaming he would be pointing the finger to expose a murder for what he was.
"You, Professor Plum, I accuse you of striking Mr. Boddy in the back of the head with the lead pipe, in the conservatory."
A gasp came from the gathered participants, and all eyes in the room traveled from the accuser to the accused, sitting in an overstuffed winged chair with his legs crossed, a smug look of satisfaction on his face.
The Professor held a lit match to his pipe and gave it a two short sucks, enjoying his moment. Behind him, and to the right, a young and beautiful brunette in a strapless red velvet gown, with a thick ostrich feather boa, dyed to match, wrapped around her very tan shoulders, gave a sideways glance to the woman in the maid's outfit standing next to her and rolled her eyes. Mrs. White avoided Miss. Scarlet's glance, and moved her own eyes to the skirt of the uniform she wore, giving the starched black material a tug.
"Of course I did," Plum said and blew out the match. "He was the bastard son of my father." The confessed murderer glanced down his hawkish nose to the collected crowd, locking eyes with each, assuring himself of their rapt attention. "And now that he is dead, I no longer have to share the inheritance." The professor gave a slight shrug of one eyebrow, as if there could be no other possible explanation.
The silence lingered for a moment; the only sounds in the room were the Professor's wet sucks on his pipe. Blue gray smoke drifted up toward the ceiling as the witnesses processed what they had just seen, until someone in the crowd slowly began to clap, the noise bringing the others out of their stupor and seconds later, applause filled the conservatory, drowning out the Professors sucking noise and dispelling the smoke.
After a moment, Professor Plum stood, his pipe still clenched between his teeth, and walked to the center of the room, where he was joined by Miss Scarlet, and Mrs. White, as well as the other members of their troupe.
A roundish sort of a man, with watery gray eyes, built like a former football player who'd long ago given up on working out, stepped up next to Miss Scarlet. A strip of a halo of hair formed around the baldness at the top of his head. He ran a thick palm over his scalp, his hand coming away with sweat dripping from his fingers. He hastily wiped his hand on the trousers of the dark olive colored suit he wore and clasped Scarlets hand, entwining her fingers with his own, his still damp palm staining the red silk of her evening gloves. Scarlet smiled tightly, scanned the applauding crowd before firmly tugging her hand out of his grasp.
On the other side of Scarlet, a tall man sauntered up and held his arms out to the crowd, as if he would like to pull them all into one great hug, showing his gratitude for the continuing applause. His light tan slacks matched his jacket. The breast of the jacket was decorated with gold medals shaped like stars hanging from colorful ribbons and spoke of far away battlefields and hard won wars. A sculpted nose sat in the middle of his face, atop a very bushy handle bar mustache, white with age.
Mrs. Peacock was the next to last to arrive to the line, taking her place between Col. Mustard and Professor Plum. The blue-green plums protruding from her pointed hat jiggled as she nodded enthusiastically to the crowd, tickling Col Mustard's face, making him squint, the creases around his eyes becoming evident. He raised a hand in thanks to the crowd, at the same time brushing away the offending feathers. Mrs. Peacock brought her fingertips to her lips, the astonishment of offending him quickly giving way to amusement and she hid her growing smile behind her sapphire satin-gloved fingers.
A man with bright red hair, dressed in a tuxedo joined the group, standing next to Mrs. White in her maid's uniform, applauded along with the audience, his white gloved hands muffling his applause.
The troupe basked in the ovation for a moment before joining hands, -Scarlet noted with regret that Mr. Greens palm was still moist- and they bowed deeply.
Rising up from the bow, Col Mustard held up a silencing hand and the applause dwindled quietly down, leaving only one set of clapping hands. The clapping man quickly realizing he was the only one still applauding and stopped suddenly, casting an embarrassed glance to his wife, and she swatted his arm with her pocketbook. The Colonel gave the man a sympatric tilt of his head, and then directed his attention back to the general crowd. "Thank you, ladies and gentleman, my fellow players and I thank you from the bottom of our hearts." From the middle of the line, Col Mustard spread out both arms, to include the others to his left and right. "But our hero tonight," he directed his gaze to the armature detective from Minnesota "is you sir. Please, come up here and take your own, well deserved bow."
Slowly, the man emerged from the crowd, staring at Col Mustard reverently. Col Mustard clapped a strong arm around the mans shoulders "Tell us how you solved it my good man!"
"Well…" began the man from Minnesota, his memory suddenly frozen with the fear of being in front of the crowd instead of part of it.
Scarlet slipped away from the line. The heavy velvet fabric of her dress was much to hot for Las Vegas, even with the air conditioning in the rented hotel auditorium blowing full blast, she was still roasting, and intended to get out of that dress soon as possible, preferable, she thought with a sly gin, with someone fun.
With her boa dragging on the floor behind her, Scarlet passed the fireplace; the dead body still sprawled in front of it. With an exaggerated tortured sigh, she strayed from her path and took two steps over to the body on the floor.
She nudged the dead mans back with the toe of her high heeled shoe, "Come on Fred, mystery solved, case closed. We've all taken our bow, you missed it - but I'll let you buy me a drink." Fred didn't move. "Dude, did you fall asleep again?" Scarlet crouched down next to the body and reached out to shake Fred by the shoulder. "Come on man! You get to lie down for half the friggin' night, I wish I got to play the victim!" Scarlet pulled her hand away, the silk of her glove wet, and her first thought was of Mr. Green's sweaty palms, until she looked at her hand, finding not a semi clear stain, but a thick gooey substance covering her fingers. Her brow furrowed in confusion and she glanced back down to Fred.
Then she began to scream.
