4
Inspector Moseby was the first to speak: "This is an absolute OUTRAGE!" He slammed his fist on the table. "What kind of a joke is this?"
"The unfunny kind?" suggested London.
Inspector Moseby slapped one hand to his forehead.
"Whoever made those accusations ought to be hung," said General Macarthur, his fists clenching to the point where they turned white. "How dare Mr. Owen make those kind of accusations about my wife of all people! She was a good lady of virtue and would never—the mere thought that she would is—oh!"
"I know exactly how you feel, General," nodded Maddie. "That child, Cyril Hamilton—I was nursery governess to him. He was always a puny child, one who wouldn't live to grow up, so he was never allowed to swim out far. One day, my attention was distracted by the all-new Zack Car 2000! Coming soon to car stores everywhere!"
"Zack, what did I tell you about exploitation?" demanded Cody.
"Um…Agatha Christie wouldn't have wanted it, something, something," said Zack, pretending to look through his memory.
Cody groaned, "You give your twisted mind a rest; I'll write the rest of this chapter."
"I know exactly how you feel, General," nodded Maddie. "That child, Cyril Hamilton—I was nursery governess to him. He was always a puny child, one who wouldn't live to grow up, so he was never allowed to swim out far. One day, my attention was distracted when a passer-by asked for directions. I didn't notice until…until…oh God, it was awful! And his mother…she was way too kind." She shook her head sadly as she tried to fight back tears.
"Do you have anything to say, Miss Brent?" inquired Zack.
"Only this: I am totally innocent," replied Miss Brent coolly. "Beatrice Taylor was in service with me. Not a nice girl, as I found out too late. You see, she was what they call…in trouble." She turned up her nose. "Naturally, I could not keep her under my roof an hour longer. She was brought up by very strict parents, so I am glad to say they did not condone her behaviour either when I told them."
"Yes, yes, but what happened to the girl?" Zack urged.
A thin line drew across Miss Brent's mouth. "Naturally, the abandoned creature, not content with one sin on her conscience, committed the worst sin of all: She threw herself in the river and drowned."
Horrified, Maddie asked, "How did you feel, when you found out she did that? Weren't you sorry? Didn't you blame yourself?"
Miss Brent shot up and angrily said, "I? I who had nothing with which to condone myself?"
"So you had no regrets at all?" asked a horrified Maddie.
"Well, she used to make nice apple juice; I'm going to miss that," said Miss Brent wistfully, before changing her tone: "Other than that, I have no regrets over her own sin driving her to take her own life."
"Well…she misses the apple juice; that's what matters," shrugged Zack, who had a fondness for apple juice, no matter how much he denied it.
"Hey! You take that back!" said Zack in self-defence as he peeked over Cody's shoulder.
"What? It's not you I'm writing about, it's the character, remember?" pointed out Cody.
"Yeah, but that Lombard guy and I have the same first name," argued Zack. "People will judge guilt by association!"
"That's the price you pay when you play the vanity card," smirked Cody.
"What about yourself, Mr. Lombard?" asked Maddie. "What about those poor natives?"
"What about them?" shrugged Zack. "I was on an expedition in Africa, ran out of food, those natives' food just happened to be nearby—fill in the blanks."
"You mean to say that you took those natives' food and left them to starve?" said the General strictly.
"Yeah, that's basically the gist," shrugged Zack.
"You left them to die?" asked Maddie, horrified.
"Duh," Zack rolled his eyes.
"If I were you, I'd feel a bit guiltier over it," said Inspector Moseby.
"What do you want me to do, burst into tears?" cried Zack. "They were Natives, for crying out loud! And what about yourself, Inspector Moseby? What about that Laundry guy?"
"Landor," corrected Maddie.
"Right, Lindbergh," nodded Zack. "So what about him?"
"Truth be told, there's not much to say about Landor," shrugged Inspector Moseby. "He was robbing a bank and I just happened to be standing there at the time. I gave my testimony in court, and he was sent up for life and just happened to die in prison around a year or so later. Shortly after, I got my promotion. You know what people are like—they get jealous that certain people are superior to them and so they start malicious rumors. Is it my fault this Mr. Owen got hold of these rumors?"
"Technically, yes," said Zack.
Inspector Moseby gave Zack a dirty look before Wargrave spoke: "I sympathize with you, Moseby. It was the same way with me and Edward Seton. He was charged with the murder of some lady whose name and occupation escapes me. He was most certainly guilty, though the other judges, who surely must've received their licenses to judge from a cereal box, were practically ready to acquit him. The other judges got jealous of my genius and, much like yourself Inspector Moseby, spread rumors that I swung the case against Seton simply because I could."
"We live in a very cruel world, judge," nodded Armstrong. "I was operating on Miss Clees and the operation was a failure. In matters like these, the grieving family always blames the doctor so they can sue and collect the money."
Esteban cleared his throat. "My wife and I would like to say something: Those accusations are a terrible lie. We used to work for this Miss Brady. One night, she fell ill, and the wires were down, so we couldn't make a call. I had to set for the doctor on foot. I risked my life to get the doctor, I tell you! I jumped in front of several cars, ran straight across a grizzly bear, jumped off a cliff, rode down vicious rapids, fell down a mighty waterfall—"
Not wanting to be here all night, Muriel cut Esteban off: "Long story short, Esteban got the doctor, but by the time he got to the house, it was too late."
"Way to cut me down in my pride, Muriel," sniffed Esteban.
"That leaves the lovely Miss Marston," said Zack. "London? Is there anything you'd like to say?"
"Yes, actually," said London. "Those kids—Jake and Lilly Nitcomb—those were the hair care products I endorsed a while back! The mere thought that I could kill hair care products is ridiculous, not too mention impractical!"
"Er, the names were John and Lucy Combes," corrected Inspector Moseby.
"Oh, those two?" shrugged London. "They were playing in the middle of the road while I went out driving one day. I was going to drive around them, honest, but then a most tragical thing happened…I broke a nail. I was so devastated, I ran them over."
"You ran them over because you broke a nail?" said a disbelieving Maddie.
"It had polish on it," whimpered London.
"Hold it," said the judge slowly. "While you've all been discussing your accusations, I've been thinking about this UN Owen fellow…or should I say, unknown fellow!"
Everyone gasped in shock. "This unknown man is an absolute maniac!" cried Maddie. "I want to get off the island immediately!"
"Why do you?" asked London. "I think this is the most wondermacle thing that has ever happened to us! I propose a toast to UN Owen! May he give us lots and lots of hugs when we see him!" She took a gulp of her drink.
"Okay, Cody, may I please write this part?" begged Zack. "I promise my hand-writing and grammar has gotten better!"
"You only want to write it so you can make the grossest death scene you can possibly make, don't you," said Cody.
"Pretty much," said Zack.
"Well, I suppose a dramatic death scene would be good for the story and death scenes are your expertise, so here," said Cody as he handed Zack the pencil, with a sinking feeling he was going to regret this…
Suddenly, London's eyes bulged as she began to cough and chok. She coughed up crimsen blod that spilled all over Inspector Mosby's jacket. She kept gasping for air, but it was to no avail, for at that moment, she vomitad blod that splashed all over the floor. Then, in a melodramatic Citizen Kane fashion, she gasped, "Lime stone!" before falling to the floor, colapsing in her own pool of blod.
"Aside from a few spelling mistakes, that's actually pretty good," admitted Cody. "Although…" he gulped back the urge to vomit, "that sure was pretty gruesome." He then took over writing:
Everyone stood there in shock before Armstrong bent down to inspect Miss Marston. He dully said, "This girl is dead. And there is an Indian boy swimming in the pool of blood…"