The stunned silence that fell over the room, following the shrill scream of Genevieve, was absolute. No one spoke, not even in a hushed whisper. It was as though words were another shot, and another would die.
The Doctor took this time, not to be shocked, but to survey. He watched their reactions to the sudden death of their host. He wanted to see something, something out of the ordinary. A facial expression out of the norm, someone under-reacting, or over reacting.
It could be the first clue, someone not surprised, or too surprised. Unfortunately, he garnered nothing. Silas and Varillo's mouths both hung open, while Genevieve, and Barlow both covered theirs. The maid took it one step further, hiding her face in a rattled-looking Winston's jacket. Drucille was already in tears, and Ricard was white as a sheet.
All were appropriate, unfortunately, and gave no clues. Perhaps if any but Sarah Jane knew what was going on in his head, they would think him cruel. However, it was not a lack of empathy that drove him, it was being full of it. Pierce did not deserve to be killed at his own party, and The Doctor would find his killer. He owed that to him. He had saved this man once... he would help him in death again.
"Let me through, I'm a Doctor," he shouted, pushing past the flustered guests. He noted that Sarah Jane hung back. Her eyes were on the guests too; probably doing the same thing he had. She was good that way. So smart, so capable.
He checked Pierce's pulse, even though he did not need to. That hole in his chest did him in; no hope of survival. The way it was scorched, and cauterized... that was a plasma weapon, to be sure. Very expensive, and very deadly, not that money mattered in this room. With a group of super-rich business people, one of which produces weapons, they were practically just laying around.
He took out his sonic screwdriver, and messed with the settings. He wanted to do a full body scan of Pierce, mostly for residual radiation, or other effects. Although he already had an idea who, or rather what, had killed him, the type of radiation could confirm it.
He depressed the button on his tool. Much to his surprise, it did nothing. No warbles, or whines escaped it, nor did any readings come from it. Even the light failed him, it's green tip staying dark.
"Oh, that's a problem," he muttered. His screwdriver almost never failed. Only one specific thing could do that.
"What's wrong?" Sarah asked, finally kneeling down next to him.
"Sonic isn't working... I think this room is deadlocked," he replied, waving his screwdriver back, and forth, then tapping it lightly to no avail, "Maybe even the whole house. That's a problem."
"What is that thing?" Barlow suddenly asked gruffly.
"Sonic screwdriver," The Doctor said absent mindedly. He was only half listening. When they asked something interesting he would pay attention.
"What good is a screwdriver going to do? He's dead!" shouted Ricard. Anger... good emotion when someone was dead. A little too good? Maybe...
"It's not just a screwdriver it's," Sarah started explaining, but the Doctor cut her off with a wave.
"Don't bother, he's too stupid," The Doctor interrupted, "so, which one of you did it?" He finally looked up from Pierce's body, glaring around the room. There was a killer among them, that just hadn't sunk in with everyone yet. Or they weren't letting on what they felt. He didn't care either way.
"You might as well come clean now, because I'm going to figure it out. Why not save yourself the time?"
"How preposterous!" Drucille snarled, crossing her spindle arms, "how are we to know it wasn't you?" He knew that wouldn't work, but he always tried. Maybe some day, someone will actually take him up on it.
"Yeah, no one here even knows who you are," Ricard piled on with a smarmy smirk. He already didn't like him.
"He's The Doctor," Silas butted in, the scarred man sticking up for him, "he wouldn't have done this."
"Besides, we're the only ones here who don't have a motive to kill him," Sarah Jane huffed.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Drucille lowered her eyes, tilting her head menacingly.
"Everyone else here was either wronged by Pierce, or would profit from his death. Us? We haven't seen him in thirty years. There is no reason for us to kill him," The Doctor stated. He was, in reality unconcerned with what they all thought. It did not matter. Everyone here, including Sarah Jane, and he, were in grave danger.
"Well, it couldn't have been me, I was almost right next to him when the power went out, and that shot came from across the room." Varrillo seemed to already be trying to exonerate herself; that was promising.
"There were two shots," Barlow said derisively.
"I saw two shots too," Genevieve agreed. Winston nodded his head silently next to her.
"Maybe there are two killers!" Pierce's maid exclaimed, wild-eyed.
"There aren't two killers, stop being ridiculous," The Doctor grunted, "it was a plasma shot. The killer banked it off the mirror to hit Pierce, and hide his location." The Doctor pointed to the mirror at the front of the room, behind the buffet table. It was clever, clever indeed. He had destroyed an entire group of robots once, in Sherwood, using mirrored plates, and reflecting their shots. Not everyone knew that was possible.
"So, did anyone see where the original shot came from?" Silas asked. No one replied, instead looking at each other. Truthfully, it happened so fast, even The Doctor was unsure. He thought it was somewhere in the middle of the room, but it was hard to tell. Depth in the dark was not always as it seemed, and it happened so fast.
"So then, no one wants to come clean?" The Scotsman asked one more time, "it'll make everything easier. I don't know about all of you, but solving a murder was not on my agenda tonight."
"My phone isn't working!" Genevieve abruptly shouted, holding up her device, "I can't call for help!"
"As I said, this room was deadlocked," The Doctor pulled out his own phone. No service. Something must have triggered the lock, as he had been on the internet a few minutes before arriving in this room.
"Then we need to go, and get help!" Silas shouted. The group started moving out of the room quickly, The Doctor shoving his way to the front. They filed nosily back out into the entry hall.
The front doors were shut tightly. Three deadbolt locks ran down the center seam, key holes facing the inside. Although he did not need to, The Doctor tugged on the handles. It was locked, as he had expected. He pointed his screwdriver at it next, to no avail.
That was what was different, what had triggered the deadlock. The doors being locked completed the circuit. The whole house was deadlocked. State of the art security. The best Pierce's ample funds could buy.
"My screwdriver is useless here, as are most phones, even mine. We're trapped here, isolated," The Doctor said darkly.
"Fine, we'll just break it down!" Barlow shouted. He stalked to the adjoining hall, picking up a chair. He carried it back, and smashed it into the door.
With a surprised yelp, the chair ruptured apart, it's pieces shattering to the floor. Barlow stood gap-mouthed, rubbing his hands painfully.
"The wood is laced with something, probably Azbantium I would think. If this place is supposed to hold us, they would need to do that. Even if it's a softer material, like Diamond, or Forcromium, that door isn't coming down. I would expect the windows are laced the same, " he chattered.
"Why would someone want to hold us here? And kill Pierce?" Sarah Jane asked.
"While I don't know why someone killed Pierce, I do know it was him who has trapped us here," he replied.
"Why would he do that? I don't understand..." Silas trailed. Confusion mixed with hurt was evident on his face.
"Because he knew he was going to die tonight," The Doctor glared around the group, still looking for a wrong reaction, finding nothing. They would mess up soon, and he would see it. They couldn't hold it forever.
"How could you know that?" Ricard questioned, "you barely know him. In fact, I think it's suspicious you seem to have this all figured out already."
"I'm sorry, I'm smarter than you," he shrugged, "it was the things he said to me, how he acted. I think that is why Sarah, and I are here, we're supposed to solve this."
"Quite egotistical, wouldn't you say?" Drucille stabbed.
"This isn't helping. How do we figure this out, and more importantly, how do we get out of here?" Sarah Jane finally asked.
"This is why she gets to travel with me," he pointed with a grin, "that door is locked with, at least, three keys. I'm going to bet their hidden in this house, so we're going to have to find them."
"What is this? Some kind of sick game?" Genevieve yelled.
"It seems that way, yes. It would seem that we're playing Clue," The Doctor smirked, "house rules of course, as the host has given us half of the game. In the ball room, with the plasma gun. Now all we need is who."
"Then the solution is simple; search each guest for the gun. Who ever has the gun, is the killer," Winston reasoned.
"Why won't that work Sarah?" The Doctor again pointed to his companion. She was quiet for a moment.
"You can't find a gun that is built-in," she finally answered.
"Right! Someone here is not who they say they are or who they look like!" The Doctor shouted.
"Are you saying someone here is a robot? That's absolutely absurd!" Drucille argued.
"That's precisely what I'm saying. That weapon indicates that as does the mathematical precision needed for a perfect ricochet heart shot, and the absences of anyone else in the room. We just need to figure out who it is." That wouldn't be easy. Androids these days could easily disguise themselves as people. They ate, breathed, slept, even bled. Their synthetic skin even would sweat. If he had his sonic screwdriver, he could determine it immediately.
"I hear your more machine than man these days, Silas. Did they put a gun in there?" Barlow abruptly accused, pointing his stumpy finger.
"How dare you!" Silas roared in return, "you know what they say about he who casts the first stone! Besides, you make weapons like this for a living."
"I have no reason to want Pierce dead, he's my top investor."
"He was stealing your company right out from under your nose! You have every reason!"
"If it... it's... a robot, the reason isn't going to matter is it?" the maid stammered.
"Oh, on the contrary Ms..." The Doctor part it hang.
"Felicia Valentine."
"The reason could be everything. If this intruder is posing as someone else, it could have taken up their motives, and plans as a form of deep cover. If the person planned to kill Pierce, the imposter would need to do so to be that person." The Doctor could see the rotten knot this was tying itself into. He didn't like it. There was something else, something he was not seeing.
"But the killer, has his own motivation too, right? This could be an assassination for a reason that we won't ever even find out," Sarah compounded on his thoughts. She was right, and he knew it.
"Yes. And I can guarantee, which ever one of you it is, is going to try, and kill the rest of us, aren't you?" The group only stared at him, and each other. He hoped provoking it may help. Obviously it's programming was top notch.
That was another thing that disturbed him. Why all the robotic creatures lately? He, and Sarah had only just run afoul of a Cyberman, and recently a Raston Warrior Robot. A bit before that were Ice Warriors, which were cybernetically modified. There was a connection here, and he wasn't liking it. Mixed with rumors of disturbing dreams everywhere he went, the math was adding up to something dangerous.
"I still say it's you! You come in here, barely anybody knows who the bloody hell you are, and you know everything like some kind of psychic! I say we tie him down, and cut him open, find out if there's a robot in there!" Ricard abruptly hollered.
"Why don't you just shut up you drug addled, alcoholic idiot!" Varrillo came to The Doctor's aid, rather mind bogglingly, "your opinions were always stupid! The only reason your still around is because of how Zera died!"
"Don't you bring my mother into this! You were the one that broke her, and my father up! My uncle had to clean up the pieces after you stole him!" He replied venomously.
"You can't steal something that's already left!" The Ouron shot back. The Doctor had seen enough.
He stuck out both his hands, for everyone to see, and shut his eyes. He felt his body warm as the energy welled up inside of him. He opened his eyes to satisfaction. His hands and fingers glowed a beautiful gold color. The guests were shocked into silence.
"I'm not a robot, I'm a Time Lord. The only Time Lord. I'm two thousand years old, and, if I keep this up I'm going to regenerate, and blow this whole room, maybe the whole house, to pieces. Not a robot, got it?" Almost everyone nodded. And he let the fires die, his skin normalizing. Now that all of that was out of the way...
"Now, I need to try to figure this out, see if I can find a way out of here. Pierce may have missed something, and if he did, I'll find it. But I need time without you blithering imbeciles in my face to do it," he explained. He could barely hear himself think, let alone solve a problem like this. Their stupidity was probably contagious.
"So, what do you expect us to do? Stand around, and wait to get melted?" Barlow asked disingenuously. The Doctor answered in kind.
"Frankly, I don't care what you do. Look for a way out, talk to each other, drink scotch, flush towels down the loo, whatever; just give me an hour to see what I can come up with, then, if I can't find a way out of this, we'll formulate another plan. I doubt your all going to get killed in under an hour." He hoped not anyway.