From jvstin at gmail.com Wed Dec 8 10:22:41 2004 From: jvstin at gmail.com (Jvstin) Date: Wed Dec 8 10:22:44 2004 Subject: [MaC] James Drake, here, testing Message-ID: <36e1ae030412080722181a1b61@mail.gmail.com> Testing the new list (and my Gmail filter) Please ignore. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Mon Dec 20 09:58:39 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Mon Dec 20 10:02:12 2004 Subject: [MaC] And so it begins ... The Fitzroys Message-ID: <004401c4e6a4$63e3e040$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Christmas Eve had dawned bright and cold. Frost rimmed the rubble of the bombed buildings as people hurried to work. The newspaper seller who unintelligibly called his wares outside Mansion House underground station sent spurts of mist into the air as people hurried by on their way to work, bundled up against the cold, relieved that - for once- their sleep had been undisturbed by the drone of bombers overhead - and the detonation of bombs all too close. It was cold, too, as people came home, laden with gifts and last minute purchases for the Christmas holidays. Last year, Britain had been in the phoney war - there had been alarms and worries, of course, and everyone had known the sound of air raid sirens, and had known someone who had gone away to fight. But danger had seemed far off - and very different thing (for those who could remember) from the grim Christmases of the Great War. But 1940 was different. All year long had been a sequence of disasters as one country after another had fallen into Herr Hitler's hands. The German divisions had stormed across Europe - Denmark, Norway, the Netherlands, Luxembourg, Belgium ... and finally France. So, as the summer came to its height, Britain stood alone to face the might of the German Reich, its troops evacuated in the miracle of Dunkirk, but its equipment abandoned on the beaches. All that stood between Britain and defeat by the seemingly German army was the small frail Spitfires and Hurricanes of the RAF. And as the long summer days began to fade, the Germans came again and again to win the air superiority they needed. And again and again they were repulsed. German superiority of the skies by day was thwarted. A slim victory had been grasped ... but in its wake came the Blitz. Now Londoners were becoming used to scrambling over rubble from bombed buildings as they made their way to and from work in darkness. London was a city of night, with no lights allowed that might guide the German bombers. The sharp whistle and shout of the ARP wardens to "Put that light out!" was a constant warning of the rigour with which the blackout was enforced. By night, the only light came from the fires started by the incendiary bombs. But there had been a lull in the raids. No-one was optimistic enough to think that the raids were over for good (indeed, some gloomy souls were predicting that the worse was yet to come), but it did seem that the Germans had slackened their attacks for Christmas. Hard though it seemed to believe, the Germans would be sitting down to their Christmas dinners and celebrating the season of peace and goodwill - before the bombing started again. And in London, there was a feeling of relief that was coming very close to a mood of celebration. For a few, brief, precious nights it seemed they would not have to face crowding down into air raid shelters, or the improvised barracks created in the underground stations. Tentative parties were planned. One such party, rather less tentative than most, was being thrown by the London theatrical agent, Monty Fitzroy, for those - or rather most of those - who lived in the block of luxury service flats known as Mortmain Mansions. Invitations had been sent around to most of the inhabitants - with one exception. Hodges, the maintenance man, had been asked to act as wine waiter - a request that had been accompanied by a generous Christmas tip, and the suggestion that there would be "something in it for him" if he were able to help out. "I don't see," said Esme Fitzroy, Monty's rather pallid wife, "why you couldn't have hired a proper wine waiter." She was changing into a cocktail dress of grey-mauve crepe de chine, distinguished only by the number of wispy bows of grey silk that traced a diagonal line up the skirt and around her narrow hips. The gown hung loosely, as though she had lost a lot of weight since purchasing it, or that it had once been designed for a much larger woman. Monty seemed not to notice this - but then Monty Fitzroy (or so his detractors said) was not a man to notice much at all. And this was even more true where his wife was concerned. Now he was more concerned with adjusting his bow tie around his fat, jowly neck in front of the looking glass in their bedroom. "Wine waiters cost money," he said. "And they whine about getting 'ome. 'Odges just 'as to nip downstairs." Monty, unlike his wife with her genteel vocal over-corrections, made no effort to conceal his East End origins. Born and bred in Stepney, was his boast. Owning his first barrow at the age of fourteen after his old man copped it. Perhaps Monty would have been a successful costermonger all his life if some strange quirk in his nature hadn't driven the boy to haunt music halls. There he had fallen under the aegis of Sid Norton, an old time impresario, who had taught the boy the ropes of the business. Variety was the breath of life to Sid, and the old music hall and variety theatre circuits. But Monty had been a new man for a new age. He'd seen the power of radio, and the need for compelling voices. And he had watched, fascionated, the experiments at Alexandria Palace with the new medium, television. Only serving the Home Counties at its inception in 1936, and now firmly switched off for the duration of the war. But it would be back afterwards, Monty knew - and when it was, Monty Fitzroy was going to have a piece of it. Esme Fitzroy sighed as she pinned a large cameo brooch at the neck of her dress. People who knew the Fitzroys said that she had learned long ago the unwisdom of going against her truculent spouse. Others, who perhaps knew the mouse-like wife better, concluded that perhaps she had her own defence ... her own way of dealing with the life force that was Monty Fitzroy. Now he gave a final scowl at his refelction in the glass and moved toward the door top the corridor and the living room beyond. "'Ave to get a move on," he said. "They'll be 'ere soon. Where's 'Odges, that what I want to know." Left alone, Esme Fitzroy looked for a moment at the closed door that marked her husband's departure. The she rose swiftly and walked to the jewellery case that stood on her dressing table. With a shaking hand she unlocked it, and then manipulated the almost invisible clasp at the back which triggered the hidden drawer. There, stark white against the red velvet, lay an envelope, the name and address printed in bold capitals. Slowly she drew it out, and then opened the flap, sliding out the single sheet of paper it contained. One thing was visible as she did so - the subscription, in the same bold capitals. "A Friend". (OOC - and so it begins ... Feel free to write your characters getting ready for the party, and arriving at the Fitzroys' flat. Other NPC posts will be appearing shortly). From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Mon Dec 20 10:10:40 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Mon Dec 20 10:11:42 2004 Subject: [MaC] Re: And so it begins ... The Fitzroys Message-ID: <004e01c4e6a6$12031cd0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Christmas Eve had dawned bright and cold. Frost rimmed the rubble of the bombed buildings as people hurried to work. The newspaper seller who unintelligibly called his wares outside Mansion House underground station sent spurts of mist into the air as people hurried by on their way to work, bundled up against the cold, relieved that - for once- their sleep had been undisturbed by the drone of bombers overhead - and the detonation of bombs all too close. It was cold, too, as people came home, laden with gifts and last minute purchases for the Christmas holidays. Last year, Britain had been in the phoney war - there had been alarms and worries, of course, and everyone had known the sound of air raid sirens, and had known someone who had gone away to fight. But danger had seemed far off - and very different thing (for those who could remember) from the grim Christmases of the Great War. But 1940 was different. All year long had been a sequence of disasters as one country after another had fallen into Herr Hitler's hands. The German divisions had stormed across Europe - Denmark, Norway, the Netherlands, Luxembourg, Belgium ... and finally France. So, as the summer came to its height, Britain stood alone to face the might of the German Reich, its troops evacuated in the miracle of Dunkirk, but its equipment abandoned on the beaches. All that stood between Britain and defeat by the seemingly German army was the small frail Spitfires and Hurricanes of the RAF. And as the long summer days began to fade, the Germans came again and again to win the air superiority they needed. And again and again they were repulsed. German superiority of the skies by day was thwarted. A slim victory had been grasped ... but in its wake came the Blitz. Now Londoners were becoming used to scrambling over rubble from bombed buildings as they made their way to and from work in darkness. London was a city of night, with no lights allowed that might guide the German bombers. The sharp whistle and shout of the ARP wardens to "Put that light out!" was a constant warning of the rigour with which the blackout was enforced. By night, the only light came from the fires started by the incendiary bombs. But there had been a lull in the raids. No-one was optimistic enough to think that the raids were over for good (indeed, some gloomy souls were predicting that the worse was yet to come), but it did seem that the Germans had slackened their attacks for Christmas. Hard though it seemed to believe, the Germans would be sitting down to their Christmas dinners and celebrating the season of peace and goodwill - before the bombing started again. And in London, there was a feeling of relief that was coming very close to a mood of celebration. For a few, brief, precious nights it seemed they would not have to face crowding down into air raid shelters, or the improvised barracks created in the underground stations. Tentative parties were planned. One such party, rather less tentative than most, was being thrown by the London theatrical agent, Monty Fitzroy, for those - or rather most of those - who lived in the block of luxury service flats known as Mortmain Mansions. Invitations had been sent around to most of the inhabitants - with one exception. Hodges, the maintenance man, had been asked to act as wine waiter - a request that had been accompanied by a generous Christmas tip, and the suggestion that there would be "something in it for him" if he were able to help out. "I don't see," said Esme Fitzroy, Monty's rather pallid wife, "why you couldn't have hired a proper wine waiter." She was changing into a cocktail dress of grey-mauve crepe de chine, distinguished only by the number of wispy bows of grey silk that traced a diagonal line up the skirt and around her narrow hips. The gown hung loosely, as though she had lost a lot of weight since purchasing it, or that it had once been designed for a much larger woman. Monty seemed not to notice this - but then Monty Fitzroy (or so his detractors said) was not a man to notice much at all. And this was even more true where his wife was concerned. Now it seemed he was more concerned with adjusting his bow tie around his fat, jowly neck in front of the looking glass in their bedroom. "Wine waiters cost money," he said. "And they whine about getting 'ome. 'Odges just 'as to nip downstairs." Monty, unlike his wife with her genteel vocal over-corrections, made no effort to conceal his East End origins. Born and bred in Stepney, was his boast. Owning his first barrow at the age of fourteen after his old man copped it. Perhaps Monty would have been a successful costermonger all his life if some strange quirk in his nature hadn't driven the boy to haunt music halls. There he had fallen under the aegis of Sid Norton, an old time impresario, who had taught the boy the ropes of the business. Variety was the breath of life to Sid, and the old music hall and variety theatre circuits. But Monty had been a new man for a new age. He'd seen the power of radio, and the need for compelling voices. And he had watched, fascionated, the experiments at Alexandria Palace with the new medium, television. Only serving the Home Counties at its inception in 1936, and now firmly switched off for the duration of the war. But it would be back afterwards, Monty knew - and when it was, Monty Fitzroy was going to have a piece of it. Esme Fitzroy sighed as she pinned a large cameo brooch at the neck of her dress. People who knew the Fitzroys said that she had learned long ago the unwisdom of going against her truculent spouse. Others, who perhaps knew the mouse-like wife better, concluded that perhaps she had her own defence ... her own way of dealing with the life force that was Monty Fitzroy. Now he gave a final scowl at his refelction in the glass and moved toward the door top the corridor and the living room beyond. "'Ave to get a move on," he said. "They'll be 'ere soon. Where's 'Odges, that what I want to know." Left alone, Esme Fitzroy looked for a moment at the closed door that marked her husband's departure. The she rose swiftly and walked to the jewellery case that stood on her dressing table. With a shaking hand she unlocked it, and then manipulated the almost invisible clasp at the back which triggered the hidden drawer. There, stark white against the red velvet, lay an envelope, the name and address printed in bold capitals. Slowly she drew it out, and then opened the flap, sliding out the single sheet of paper it contained. One thing was visible as she did so - the subscription, in the same bold capitals. "A Friend". (OOC - and so it begins ... Feel free to write your characters getting ready for the party, and arriving at the Fitzroys' flat. Other NPC posts will be appearing shortly). From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Mon Dec 20 10:52:02 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Mon Dec 20 10:52:49 2004 Subject: [MaC] And So it Begins ... Anton Message-ID: <006a01c4e6ab$d955a000$0202a8c0@Behemoth> In Flat No.17 of Mortmain Mansions, Anton Barowenski, the Polish pianist, slipped the gold cufflinks in to the crisp white cuffs of his shirt. Formal dress for this cocktail party of Fitzroy's. The men would be in black tie, he assumed, and the women in cocktail dresses - unless, as people increasingly did, they chose to wear uniform. Barowenski frowned. Earlier in the week, a party of Polish airmen had come to the afternoon concert. Afterwards, they had come backstage to see him, and congratulate him, and they had gone on to the deserted stage together to listen as he had played to them Chopin, and then Polish folksongs. They had sung together, and shared the half bottle of brandy he kept in the dressing room, and before they left, each of them had shaken his hand and thanked him. But he had felt like a traitor, a coward. What was he doing her in England, playing tunes, while Leila and Sara were trapped in the horror of war? What was he doing, while his countrymen were risking their lives in the skies over England, fighting to ensure that some small part of Europe remained free? Afterwards he had gone to Fitzroy and told him that he wanted to break his contract, to join the Air Force. And Fitzroy had said ... Well, no matter now. He would play tonight at this cocktail party, just as he would perform at the Wigmore Hall in two weeks' time - and at the other concerts Fitzroy had arranged. He would play ... and smile and bow ... and his heart would be in Poland, with Leila and Sara. As he turned to move towards the door, he caught a faint, elusive scent, and he smiled, a little sadly. Well, perhaps a little piece of his heart would be in London, too. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Mon Dec 20 11:16:16 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Mon Dec 20 11:17:02 2004 Subject: [MaC] And so it begins ... Nola Message-ID: <007701c4e6af$3bf08420$0202a8c0@Behemoth> In Flat No.10, Miss Nola Diamond (nie Gladys Scroggs) was also putting the finishing touches to her appearance. Too pale ... perhaps a touch of rouge? No, horrible - it made her look like some painted floozy. She rubbed at her cheeks, and the effort of removing the rouge gave her the colour she desired. Why did she have to go to this ghastly cocktail party? Because Monty was giving it, of course, and he would expect her to be there, like some painted trophy he could wear and flaunt. No, no, that was silly. How could he flaunt her when that meek little wife of his would be there? Even Monty would have to show some discretion with Esme present ... She stood up and adjusted her dress. Just slightly off the shoulders would be best, the heavy silk taffeta gleaming in the light. The dark green showed off her dark auburn hair to perfection, he had said. Dark green was her colour ... But she had promised herself that she wouldn't think about him. No, that was over, and her future was her career, and Monty Fitzroy, no matter how crude and grasping he was. Because Monty was going to make her a star, and with stardom came all the money she could possibly want, or need. But perhaps, before she went upstairs to the party, there was time, there was a need for a little something that would pick her up after the long day of rehearsals in the theatre, something that would make the evening flow smoothly and sweetly, with no hic-cups, no attacks of panic if she should see ... Her eyes met her own eyes in the looking glass, and she marvelled that someone could feel such pain inside and yet seem so calm, so serene on the surface. And as she gazed on her own lovely face, it seemed as though her hand crept to the upper drawer of her dressing table of its own volition, slid the drawer open ... and reached out the little washed leather rolled wallet inside ... From dorothea at textartisan.com Mon Dec 20 11:19:18 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Mon Dec 20 11:21:39 2004 Subject: [MaC] And so it begins ... Pamela In-Reply-To: <004401c4e6a4$63e3e040$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <004401c4e6a4$63e3e040$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41C6FB86.40504@textartisan.com> Lady Pamela bent into a jack-knife on her chair to put on her silk stockings, with a care to their expense and fragility. They were a Christmas gift; poor gratitude indeed, to ruin them on their first wearing. Her gown of night-blue velvet-trimmed silk lay on the bed; it was a long-discarded item from her mother's youth, but Pamela had taken it entirely to pieces, laid the frills and furbelows aside, and skillfully made over the gorgeous fabric underneath to the latest style, rather than spend money frivolously on something new. A little fur jacket over the top created the right sort of squarish shoulder, even if it *did* make the whole feel uncomfortably like her WAAF uniform. Stockings in place, Pamela slipped the gown on. Oh, dear; she had tailored it to fit perfectly mere months ago, and here it was getting loose. Mum *would* fuss so if she saw, and there wasn't time to take in the seams. Well, the jacket and the peplum on the back of the skirt would cover, Pamela hoped. Not that anybody but Mum would look twice at her, with The Actresses, Nola and Nicola, at the party. Just as well; Pamela could slip into a corner with Marion and Tabitha and perhaps poor Esme and have a good chat, while those two cats bared their long, sharp claws at each other and the local toms caterwauled and skirmished about them. Jacket, fastenings, gloves, smart buckled shoes... what to do with her hair? Pamela suspected that the loose, pinned-down-on-top styles she preferred would also be The Actresses' choice. Very well, then. Pamela parted her hair quickly -- at least there was a lot of it and it took a curl well, even if it wasn't a fashionable colour -- and set about doing up the front. As ready as she could be, she tidied up her bureau and went to tap at her mother's door. From faespinner at yahoo.com Mon Dec 20 12:33:30 2004 From: faespinner at yahoo.com (Tara Kunkel) Date: Mon Dec 20 12:34:44 2004 Subject: [MaC] And So it Begins ... Braham In-Reply-To: <006a01c4e6ab$d955a000$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <5.1.0.14.0.20041220115120.03146db0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> The tuxedo had almost been left behind. Braham had not really believed it would come into use before the cut had fallen out of style. It had been packed more as a reminder of what had been forsaken then anything else. Looking at it, he remembered brightly lit parties full of laughter and music. There would always be an over abundance of food and drink. The young women would hide their giggles behind glasses of champagne while he and his friends did their best to impress with witty humor. Had he remained at school that was exactly the sort of party he would be attending tonight, loud and exuberant. He would be wearing this exact tuxedo and preparing himself in nearly the same way. Wistfully he stared into the mirror and allowed himself a few moments of mourning. '"All right then," he said to himself when he felt he could bare the sadness no longer. "Enough of that." Forcing a smile, he instantly began to feel a bit better. This Christmas was to be nothing like those of the past. He simply had to accept that and move on. Being here was his choice and his alone. He would go about his studies and find a way to enjoy a bit of Holiday cheer. With a last adjustment to his bow tie, Braham turned from the mirror and prepared to leave the flat. His dark hair was still a bit rumpled but his suit was amazingly tidy. It still fit him well, or rather it fit him well again. The extra pounds he had packed on during the spring semester had melted away over the last few months. Once again he could be considered trim. Despite, or perhaps because of, his inner melancholy, his blue eyes sparkled brightly. Around him the flat was dark and a bit dismal with worn edges and muted colors but he remained handsome and youthful despite his recent trials. Braham picked up a notebook, thought for a moment and set it promptly back down again. No, it was best to not take notes at the party. Some people might find the behavior distinctly odd. He knew he would if he had witnessed someone doing the same just a few years ago. Whatever happened, he would simply have to mark it in his memory and record it later. That would be the easiest way. With that decided he headed for the door without further hesitation. Once free of the confines of his flat, he bounded towards the staircase. He nearly flew up them, taking the steps two at a time. The exertion did not steal his breath but it was still enough to get his blood flowing. Feeling much more like his normally easy going self, he knocked gently on the Fitzroy's door. I am probably first to arrive, he thought to himself. Mother would be horrified. An impish grin met his lips as he awaited an answer. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Mon Dec 20 12:59:09 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Mon Dec 20 13:00:07 2004 Subject: [MaC] And so it begins ... Oswald and Lucinda Skeffington-Nottle Message-ID: <008c01c4e6bd$9af15090$0202a8c0@Behemoth> "Here you are!" said Lucinda Skeffington-Nottle, relieved. "I thought you were never coming!" She bestowed a kiss on Oswald, her husband, and then turned around in her dark rose and cream striped satin dress. "Very nice," said Oswald admiringly. "Is it new?" Lucinda laughed. "In a way," she said. "Mummy made it for me - from the old library curtains. So ... no coupons needed! I brought it up last time I went to see Timmy and Joan." Her face fell briefly. "I know, old bean," said Oswald. It's hard to be away from the kits at Christmas. But all being well, we should be driving down to Hampshire on Boxing Day, and we can have fun and frolics till the New Year then." Lucinda nodded, although her amiable husband noticed that her lower lip still trembled. "Tell you what," he said, "How about opening your Christmas present early? It's under the tree. Go on ... I'll wrap you an egg cup or something for the morning." Lucinda gave a little chuckle. "Oswald," she said, "you are an ass." "That's me," he agreed cheerfully, although he was shrewd to enough to realise that he was being successful in diverting her thoughts from her evacuated children. He watched as she went to the tree - decorated even though the children were absent - and stooped to the unusually small pile of presents beneath. "No, not that one," he added quickly. "The long narrow one beneath." Shop wrapping paper had failed this year, but Oswald and Lucinda had cut up some old pre-war magazines. The black and white illustrations made the wrpping rather more interesting, they agreed, than plain paper would have done, although now Lucinda did not bother to examine the illustrations. The wrapping was removed and folded, even as her eyes were widening at the sight of the jeweller's box. "Oh ... Oswald!" "I hope you like it, old thing," said Oswald, as she oped the lid. The way her eyes lit up told him that she did. "Oh ... Oswald! It's beautiful." Carefully she lifted the delicate silver chain with its setting of small diamonds. "Will you fasten it for me?" He was more than happy to oblige. "Do you think I need to change?" he murmured into the back of her neck as he did up the clasp. She shook her head. "I don't think so. I imagine several people will be in uniform - and you don't really have time to change." "Good," said Oswald, relieved. "One of the advantages of being in khaki is not having to wear a penguin suit for things like this." Ten minutes later the Skeffington Nottles were ready, and leaving their flat. "Let's take the lift, " said Oswald. The lift was a handsome piece of iron engineering - an open cage, with a plain grilled on the inside, and more elaborate mouldings on the outside. (OOC - see images on the wikki at http://www.amberpbem.net/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/~MurderAtChristmas/Main/TheLift). As Lucinda and Oswald waited there, they heard it clank into life, rising from the lower floors. (OOC - anyone else wish to emerge on their floor, or share the lift to the top with them?) From margdean at erols.com Mon Dec 20 13:23:32 2004 From: margdean at erols.com (Margaret Dean) Date: Mon Dec 20 13:25:09 2004 Subject: [MaC] And So it Begins ... Marion References: <5.1.0.14.0.20041220115120.03146db0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <41C718A4.977E07D2@erols.com> The dark red cocktail dress was several years old, but it fit well, and flattered her figure and coloring, and besides, Marion Mauberly was a professional woman, not a fashion plate. And this evening was strictly business, the journalist told herself as she peered into the mirror and carefully applied lipstick. It wasn't as if she liked Marty Fitzroy, or particularly wanted to socialize with him. But he and his clients were News, and it didn't do to alienate them. So she'd go to his Christmas Eve party, and be bright and sociable and chat everyone up while they were well mellowed with Marty's drinks, and gather what she could. But very soon now -- oh, she hoped it would be soon! -- there would be a day of reckoning for Marty Fitzroy and everyone like him. Marion finished her lipstick and studied herself in the mirror, dark eyes looking back at her from under arched brows, well-marked features framed by thick, black hair. She carefully affixed her earrings -- stars, for Christmas -- and then daubed a few careful touches of scent under her ears. Her expression softened just a trifle at the smell of sandalwood. Well, perhaps not =strictly= business... She emerged from her flat a few minutes later, carefully locked her door, then walked toward the lift. She'd promised to stop for Vangie on her way up... --Margaret Dean From Mrfury28 at aol.com Mon Dec 20 14:16:18 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Mon Dec 20 14:17:20 2004 Subject: [MaC] And so it begins ... Hodges Message-ID: Graydon Hodges hastily scrubbed the axle grease off his hands. The lift had been acting up again, but all it had needed was lubrication. Performing his daily chores in addition to the maintenance of the lift had caused the older man to become delayed as he was expected to serve at the Fitzroys. He had served his country years before, and now he was reduced to serving the nouveaux rich. But with the pensioners cut back due to the War, one had to make due. Hodges surveyed his hands, noting the dark under his cuticles. It would have to be good enough. At least he had the time to don clean pants, starched shirt and jacket. He straightened his tie in the oval mirror above the dresser before heading to the Fitzroys. Hearing the groan of the lift, Hodges winced. If guests were arriving already, he was late. An Englishman was nothing if not punctual. The gentleman climbed the stairs. Given the current condition of the lift, no doubt he would reach the Fitzroys apartment first. When he did, he firmly knocked on the door and announced himself. "Its Hodges, sir. Sorry about the time." -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041220/2ef11752/attachment.htm From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Mon Dec 20 14:38:36 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Mon Dec 20 14:39:32 2004 Subject: [MaC] And So it Begins ... Philip In-Reply-To: <41C718A4.977E07D2@erols.com> Message-ID: <007801c4e6cb$82a27150$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Philip swallowed a curse as the buttons of his dress-uniform jacket evaded his clumsy attempt to button them left-handed. He grimaced down at his right hand -- such as it was -- hating it, hating the uselessness of it, the uselessness it made him feel. [It was that or die,] he told himself, for the umpteenth time. [A hell of a choice, but that's war. And considering what's happening on the Continent, you got off lightly...] He let that thought go, as it never made him feel any better, despite the truth of it. Gross movements of his shoulder and elbow maneuvered the burned, clawlike hand into a position where it could clutch weakly at the fabric. Through an effort, he managed to press the cloth between fingers and thumb -- enough to hold it in place while his left hand, still unfamiliar with the motions, made another attempt at the buttons. The effort caused him some pain, but the pain now was mild compared to what it had been, and he had better get used to it; the doctors said it would likely never get any better than it was now. His right hand held grimly onto the jacket's lapel, as though desperate to prove that it could contribute *something* to the task it had once managed effortlessly. He was frustrated enough now to forego the entire party, to sit here in his borrowed room with a bottle of whisky and the book of Saki stories that a squadmate had sent him. But it wasn't as though Great-Aunt Evangeline would let him avoid her social obligations, and the damned cat would doubtless conspire to ruin his evening despite his best efforts to shut it out of his room. Besides, there was someone at the party he simply had to see...if it wasn't already too late. The button sprang loose again, just as he thought he had it fixed in place. He did curse this time, biting off the end of the expletive in hopes that Evangeline wouldn't hear. While grabbing futilely at the cloth with his left hand, he knocked his right away, the fabric sliding smoothly out from between his rigid, scabbed fingers. He willed them to close, to catch on the jacket, but they merely twitched apologetically in the air. From hmace at elfworks.com Mon Dec 20 15:02:34 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Mon Dec 20 15:03:31 2004 Subject: [MaC] And So it Begins ... Majorie Message-ID: <41C72FDA.9050304@elfworks.com> Marjorie hurried into the building and up the first flight of stairs, her uniform and shoes covered with dust. ~What a day!~ she thought wearily. Pauline was out with a twisted ankle, so she had to spot her route as well as her own. And now she had to get ready for the party upstairs, too. She opened up her flat, #3, and hurried in. At least these rooms had a private bath with running water. Much nicer that Scarlet's flat over by the underground entrance. She had to share with everyone on the floor. Rotten, that. Now if she could get some nice shampoo... Marjorie pulled off her helmet and shook out her short brown curls. Bother wearing this hot thing. It did nothing for her hair she fretted as she grabbed her hairbrush and tried to brush some life back into her hair. Bother... Marjorie frowned at the mirror. Nope... no hope for it she thought sadly. She was going to have to go to the party with her hair like this. Unless... She opened her satchel, pulled out a faded cream dress and a few boxes. One of the things about working for the post was sometimes they found flats who's occupants were no longer with them anymore. Most stuff went to the churches and charities. But occasionally the post workers got a few things from such places. Marjorie squelched a bit of guilt. No... she didn't -rob- anyone she told herself. It wasn't like there was next of kin, they checked. It's just.. it was hard to get things in times like these. She lifted one of the small boxes, opened it up, and pulled out a handful of hair pins. Yes! Problem solved. Marjorie quickly washed her hands and face and neck, put on the cream satin dress. A little tight in the front, but that was ok Marjorie thought as she adjusted it. Made her look more like a movie star. She quickly pinned her hair up and back. Much, much better. A little lipstick, a little powder. Why.. she hadn't looked this good since before the war! Marjorie smiled at the mirror. She heard the door above her flat open and close. Oswald and Lucinda must be on their way up to the party already! Get a move on, Marjorie! She pulled her only good pair of stockings on and slipped into her shoes, ignoring the protests of her tired feet. After all, it was a party! Flat key in her pocket. Anything else? Nope. With a bounce in her step she left the flat. Bother... the lift was just going up! She could wait the minutes it would take for it to come back, or... she sighed, looked at the stairs. Right. Marjorie started up the stairs. All the way up to the fifth floor. She paused for a moment at the top landing to give herself a moment to catch her breath, ignoring the twinge in her side. From veazeyae at gmail.com Mon Dec 20 15:11:15 2004 From: veazeyae at gmail.com (Allen Veazey) Date: Mon Dec 20 15:12:11 2004 Subject: [MaC] And so it begins... Warren Message-ID: Warren Worthington Flat #8 Warren slipped on his dress uniform jacket, noting as he started to work the buttons that it had grown tighter over the last few weeks. Small wonder. He hadn't been wearing uniforms at all; mostly pajamas and loose-fitting clothes. Lying around, eating and taking medicine while his knee throbbed. He looked down at his leg. Well, it could be worse. Most of the bandages had come off just today, and the doctor had encouraged him to undertake "light exercise." Right. His uncle's empty flat was a godsend, but he almost needed rope and pitons to make it down to the street. Hodges was a godsend there, too. The man had taken one look at Warren's damaged knee and offered him occasional use of the service lift. A fine fellow, that. Salt of the earth. There. Buttons done, everything on straight... had to check everything twice, he thought, in this haze. That little bottle certainly took the pain away, but thinking was as much a chore as climbing. Almost, he thought about missing the party, but... no. He'd been by himself much too long. Uncle Albert was gone, might be gone until Warren went back on duty. He might never see him. It doesn't matter, Warren thought, grabbing his cane. I'm going back. Can't rest on my laurels, not when our chaps were just barely holding the line. And this new tactic, stepping up the blitz... how monstrous could a people become? He turned. Enough ruminating. For one night, at least, I'll put my own problems out of my head. The last chance for some fun, last chance for quite a while. Maybe if I hurried, I could find Hodges. Warren almost whistled as he opened his door and began his usual limp towards the lifts. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Mon Dec 20 15:14:29 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Mon Dec 20 15:15:23 2004 Subject: [MaC] At the Fitzroys: Hodges and Braham References: Message-ID: <00f401c4e6d0$83365aa0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Hodges surveyed his hands, noting the dark under his cuticles. It would have to be good enough. At least he had the time to don clean pants, starched shirt and jacket. He straightened his tie in the oval mirror above the dresser before heading to the Fitzroys. Hearing the groan of the lift, Hodges winced. If guests were arriving already, he was late. An Englishman was nothing if not punctual. The gentleman climbed the stairs. Given the current condition of the lift, no doubt he would reach the Fitzroys apartment first. When he did, he firmly knocked on the door and announced himself. "Its Hodges, sir Sorry about the time." Marty Fitroy himself came out into the hall and directed a glower at him that put Hodges in mind of a swelling toad. "So, you're 'ere at last, are?" he said. "Well, you'd better 'op to it - the guests will be arriving any minute." As if in confirmation of his words, the doorbell rang. Frowning, he turned to attend to it himself, waving Hodges towards the stairs that led to the upper level of the penthouse, where the lounge was located (OOC - see http://www.amberpbem.net/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/~MurderAtChristmas/Main/PenthouseUpperLevel). There in the larger room, the picture windows hung with heavy blackout curtains, Hodges found a long table set with bottles of gin, tonic, bitters, vermouth, scotch, lime juice and a few liqueurs - as well as Malvern water for the faint of heart. Also present was Esme Fitzroy who looked at Hodges nervously, before standing and walking towards him, hand extended. "So good of you to help out," she said colourlessly. "You can mix cocktails, can't you?" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Braham picked up a notebook, thought for a moment and set it promptly back down again. No, it was best to not take notes at the party. Some people might find the behavior distinctly odd. He knew he would if he had witnessed someone doing the same just a few years ago. Whatever happened, he would simply have to mark it in his memory and record it later. That would be the easiest way. With that decided he headed for the door without further hesitation. Once free of the confines of his flat, he bounded towards the staircase. He nearly flew up them, taking the steps two at a time. The exertion did not steal his breath but it was still enough to get his blood flowing. Feeling much more like his normally easy going self, he knocked gently on the Fitzroy's door. I am probably first to arrive, he thought to himself. Mother would be horrified. An impish grin met his lips as he awaited an answer. The door was opened by the larger than life figure of Marty Fitzroy, resplendent in his black tie. For a fleeting second, Braham had the impression that Fitzroy was disappointed - perhaps because he had been expecting someone else. But then he beamed and took Braham's extended hand in his own meaty clasp, almost jerking the slighter American into the penthouse flat bodily. "Welcome!" he said heartily. "Welcome! Come and have a Christmas drink!" Braham again noticed that Fitzroy looked over his shoulder, as though checking to see if anyone else was coming before he turned and ushered him towards the steps that led to the upper level. "I'll stay here," his host told him. "Let our guests in, you know. Just go up and say your 'ow do's to Esme. Just turn left at the top. It's a bit dark, and when you come to the wall you've gone too far." He laughed, expecting his guest to see the joke. In fact, it proved fairly logical for Braham to find his way to the lounge, and when he arrived, the woman in grey mauve crepe de chine greeted him. "Good evening, Mr ... ?" From jjkatalenic at yahoo.com Mon Dec 20 15:14:27 2004 From: jjkatalenic at yahoo.com (Jonathan Katalenic) Date: Mon Dec 20 15:15:25 2004 Subject: [MaC] And So it Begins ... Nicola Message-ID: <20041220201427.21680.qmail@web20222.mail.yahoo.com> Nicola Douglas was a vision- if she did say so herself. Her elegant black velvet evening gown fit as though it had been tailored exclusively for her and not bought in a last-minute frenzy of shopping earlier that morning. Her mother had always told her that a true lady would never be caught dead wearing the same dress to more than one party; this was advice that Nicola took very seriously. She had been lucky enough to find the dress in one of the few upscale shops left open during the Blitz. She had spent many more coupons than she could afford on it, but it had all been worth it- and besides, it wasn't like she would be in London much longer anyhow. A bolero jacket acquired as a gift from a fashion designer in New York adorned her otherwise bare shoulders and arms. In matching black, it served to allow everyone in the room to know that she was up-to-date with the very latest fashions. Her hair was done up and held in place by several expensive jade combs. The glittering green on her red hair looked most festive, she thought with a grin. Nola would be wearing green, she recalled. Poor, sweet Nola. She was a darling girl, really, but somewhat odd. No, scratch that: very odd, and getting odder by the day... Nicola liked her anyway- had liked her since the mix-up in the mail resulted in their meeting and exchanging letters. Nola Diamond, Nicola Douglas- the names were similar enough to excuse the mistake, but not so similar as to result in it not being irritating. So she was certain, then, to be the loveliest in the room. All the better to engage that handsome Lord Richard in conversation. "Lovely to see you this evening, Lord Richard," she said in a practiced drawl. Good- losing her voice had been a temporary malfunction after hitting middle C near the end of "Stuff Like That There" earlier that day. Thankfully it had been the last number of her set, and a few hours gargling with a salt rinse had brought her voice back to its melodic self. In fact, there were few people Nicola was not looking forward to seeing. She was looking forward to chatting with young Lady Pamela over the latter's WAAF works. She wished for a conversation with Miss Mauberly, the journalist. Really, the only one she wasn't looking forward to seeing was Mrs. Evans, owner of the beast-cat from Hell. The fourth floor had entered an uneasy peace following several confrontations between that... thing... and Nicola's own darling terrier, Mr. Bob. Nicola slipped on a pair of white gloves and checked her makeup one last time before leaving her flat. Tonight was to be a night of fun and revelry, she reminded herself. She had no reason to worry. No reason at all. But still, she planned to keep her eyes open and to remember any suspicious behavior. She didn't know who he was, but he certainly knew who she was, of that much, she was certain. She walked into the hall just in time to hear the creeeeak-rattle-rattle of the lift heading past her floor. "Damn," she whispered to herself. She glanced at the stairs with a scowl and began to walk up them. Even one flight in her highly fashionable and impractical shoes caused her feet to plead for mercy. She emerged onto the fifth floor just in time to see Marjorie Higgins heading down the hall. She must have arrived on the floor just before Nicola herself. Nicola took a moment to adjust her hair and walked over, arms wide. "Marjorie, darling!" she said with a friendly smile. "How lovely to see you. You look absolutely smashing tonight. How are you, darling?" __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! Mail - now with 250MB free storage. Learn more. http://info.mail.yahoo.com/mail_250 From faespinner at yahoo.com Mon Dec 20 15:39:35 2004 From: faespinner at yahoo.com (Tara Kunkel) Date: Mon Dec 20 15:41:02 2004 Subject: [MaC] At the Fitzroys: Hodges and Braham In-Reply-To: <00f401c4e6d0$83365aa0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: Message-ID: <5.1.0.14.0.20041220152544.03176590@pop.mail.yahoo.com> At 03:14 PM 12/20/2004, you wrote: >Hodges surveyed his hands, noting the dark under his cuticles. It would >have to be good enough. At least he had the time to don clean pants, >starched shirt and jacket. He straightened his tie in the oval mirror >above the dresser before heading to the Fitzroys. Hearing the groan of >the lift, Hodges winced. If guests were arriving already, he was >late. An Englishman was nothing if not punctual. > >The gentleman climbed the stairs. Given the current condition of the >lift, no doubt he would reach the Fitzroys apartment first. When he did, >he firmly knocked on the door and announced himself. "Its Hodges, >sir Sorry about the time." > >Marty Fitroy himself came out into the hall and directed a glower at him >that put Hodges in mind of a swelling toad. > >"So, you're 'ere at last, are?" he said. "Well, you'd better 'op to it - >the guests will be arriving any minute." As if in confirmation of his >words, the doorbell rang. Frowning, he turned to attend to it himself, >waving Hodges towards the stairs that led to the upper level of the >penthouse, where the lounge was located (OOC - see >http://www.amberpbem.net/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/~MurderAtChristmas/Main/PenthouseUpperLevel). > >There in the larger room, the picture windows hung with heavy blackout >curtains, Hodges found a long table set with bottles of gin, tonic, >bitters, vermouth, scotch, lime juice and a few liqueurs - as well as >Malvern water for the faint of heart. Also present was Esme Fitzroy who >looked at Hodges nervously, before standing and walking towards him, hand >extended. > >"So good of you to help out," she said colourlessly. "You can mix >cocktails, can't you?" > >~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ > >Braham picked up a notebook, thought for a moment and set it promptly back >down again. No, it was best to not take notes at the party. Some people >might find the behavior distinctly odd. He knew he would if he had >witnessed someone doing the same just a few years ago. Whatever happened, >he would simply have to mark it in his memory and record it later. That >would be the easiest way. With that decided he headed for the door without >further hesitation. > >Once free of the confines of his flat, he bounded towards the staircase. He >nearly flew up them, taking the steps two at a time. The exertion did not >steal his breath but it was still enough to get his blood flowing. Feeling >much more like his normally easy going self, he knocked gently on the >Fitzroy's door. I am probably first to arrive, he thought to himself. >Mother would be horrified. An impish grin met his lips as he awaited an >answer. > > >The door was opened by the larger than life figure of Marty Fitzroy, >resplendent in his black tie. For a fleeting second, Braham had the >impression that Fitzroy was disappointed - perhaps because he had been >expecting someone else. But then he beamed and took Braham's extended >hand in his own meaty clasp, almost jerking the slighter American into the >penthouse flat bodily. > >"Welcome!" he said heartily. "Welcome! Come and have a Christmas drink!" "Thank you," Braham said sincerely, his amusement at his hosts behavior masked in his cheerful expression. >Braham again noticed that Fitzroy looked over his shoulder, as though >checking to see if anyone else was coming before he turned and ushered him >towards the steps that led to the upper level. The amusement rose slightly. Perhaps the man simply did not wish to be alone with me, he thought to himself. Immediately he put the thought to rest. The man more then likely had no clue who he was. If he had, something would have been said. >"I'll stay here," his host told him. "Let our guests in, you know. Just >go up and say your 'ow do's to Esme. Just turn left at the top. It's a >bit dark, and when you come to the wall you've gone too far." > >He laughed, expecting his guest to see the joke. Smartly Braham followed suit with a bit of laughter of his own. "I will remember that," he responded before departing. >In fact, it proved fairly logical for Braham to find his way to the >lounge, and when he arrived, the woman in grey mauve crepe de chine >greeted him. > >"Good evening, Mr ... ?" "Davis. Braham Davis," he said quickly. "And you must be Mrs. Fitzroy." He took her hand gently and gave a slight bow. "Thank you for the invitation. It is a pleasure to finally meet you." From his accent he was most certainly American; a handsome, young, charismatic American. How he had been managing to blend into the shadows was a bit of a mystery. From hmace at elfworks.com Mon Dec 20 16:33:12 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Mon Dec 20 16:34:07 2004 Subject: [MaC] And So it Begins ... Nicola In-Reply-To: <20041220201427.21680.qmail@web20222.mail.yahoo.com> References: <20041220201427.21680.qmail@web20222.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <41C74518.10102@elfworks.com> > > But still, she planned to keep her eyes open and to > remember any suspicious behavior. She didn't know who > he was, but he certainly knew who she was, of that > much, she was certain. She walked into the hall just > in time to hear the creeeeak-rattle-rattle of the lift > heading past her floor. > > "Damn," she whispered to herself. She glanced at the > stairs with a scowl and began to walk up them. Even > one flight in her highly fashionable and impractical > shoes caused her feet to plead for mercy. She emerged > onto the fifth floor just in time to see Marjorie > Higgins heading down the hall. She must have arrived > on the floor just before Nicola herself. Nicola took a > moment to adjust her hair and walked over, arms wide. > > "Marjorie, darling!" she said with a friendly smile. > "How lovely to see you. You look absolutely smashing > tonight. How are you, darling?" Marjorie turned, surprised. "Oh! Nicola! How lovely to see you!" Marjorie returned the embrace with a friendly smile. "I'm... tired," she said with a grin. "I had to do a double route today, and I can't wait to get off my feet," she confided in a loud whisper. "But you look smashing!" Marjorie said enthusiastically. "Like a real celebrity! I bet the men won't be able to take their eyes off you," she said cheerfully. From nowsounds at comcast.net Mon Dec 20 17:21:13 2004 From: nowsounds at comcast.net (Nowsounds) Date: Mon Dec 20 17:23:36 2004 Subject: [MaC] ] And so it begins ... Arabella & Pamela References: <004401c4e6a4$63e3e040$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41C6FB86.40504@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <00a901c4e6e2$6373d730$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> > Jacket, fastenings, gloves, smart buckled shoes... what to do with her > hair? Pamela suspected that the loose, pinned-down-on-top styles she > preferred would also be The Actresses' choice. Very well, then. Pamela > parted her hair quickly -- at least there was a lot of it and it took a > curl well, even if it wasn't a fashionable colour -- and set about doing > up the front. > > As ready as she could be, she tidied up her bureau and went to tap at her > mother's door. "Come in..." Arabella's voice, crisp and clear as always, rang out without being raised in the slightest. As the door opened she looked up from the bedtable, where she kept the few jewels she had brought with her. "Rubies, do you think, dear?" She was wearing a burgundy velvet gown, one of last year's, of course, but she never worried about being fashionable and as a result her clothes were never quite out of date. The dress was simple, with long sleeves and an empire waist that she hoped made her legs look a little longer. Looking taller was, unfortunately, out of the question and not only were high heels decidedly wrong for a woman of her age and status, but she had never quite gotten the hang of them, even as a young woman. Happily, David had never been one for women in high heels... Flash got up from his comfortable pose near his mistress and went over to sniff at Pamela's hem. Something in the greyhound's attitude caused Arabella to smile at her daughter and say, "He approves. And really, dear, you look quite lovely." She meant it. Pamela was not a glittering beauty, but she had a natural dignity and warmth, as well as good bones, and Arabella thought her the equal of any young lady in London. From Mrfury28 at aol.com Mon Dec 20 17:40:08 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Mon Dec 20 17:41:15 2004 Subject: [MaC] At the Fitzroys: Hodges and Braham Message-ID: <62.4ababe49.2ef8aec8@aol.com> There in the larger room, the picture windows hung with heavy blackout curtains, Hodges found a long table set with bottles of gin, tonic, bitters, vermouth, scotch, lime juice and a few liqueurs - as well as Malvern water for the faint of heart. Also present was Esme Fitzroy who looked at Hodges nervously, before standing and walking towards him, hand extended. "So good of you to help out," she said colourlessly. "You can mix cocktails, can't you?" "Of course, Mrs. Fitzroy. I'd be happy to fix you a drink if you wish, settle your stomach before the guests arrive..." Hodges offered cheerfully, taking her hand lightly in his own in greeting. Just then, another gentleman entered the parlor. His thoughts about her bloated toad of a husband he kept to himself. *** "Good evening, Mr ... ?" "Davis. Braham Davis," he said quickly. "And you must be Mrs. Fitzroy." He took her hand gently and gave a slight bow. "Thank you for the invitation. It is a pleasure to finally meet you." From his accent he was most certainly American; a handsome, young, charismatic American. How he had been managing to blend into the shadows was a bit of a mystery. "Mr. Davis, would you care for a cocktail?" Hodges had assumed a position behind the long table as Mr. Davis introduced himself to the hostess. -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041220/03d23258/attachment.htm From dorothea at textartisan.com Mon Dec 20 18:00:18 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Mon Dec 20 18:03:06 2004 Subject: [MaC] ] And so it begins ... Arabella & Pamela In-Reply-To: <00a901c4e6e2$6373d730$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> References: <004401c4e6a4$63e3e040$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41C6FB86.40504@textartisan.com> <00a901c4e6e2$6373d730$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> Message-ID: <41C75982.1010103@textartisan.com> Nowsounds wrote: > "Come in..." Arabella's voice, crisp and clear as always, rang out > without being raised in the slightest. As the door opened she looked up > from the bedtable, where she kept the few jewels she had brought with > her. "Rubies, do you think, dear?" "Did you bring *those*, Mum? Goodness, if they're -- oh, you *didn't* bring the heirloom ones. Good on you; Edmund would fall down in fits if those were lost or stolen. Yes, those will do quite nicely, I should think." > Flash got up from his comfortable pose near his mistress and went over > to sniff at Pamela's hem. Something in the greyhound's attitude caused > Arabella to smile at her daughter and say, "He approves. And really, > dear, you look quite lovely." She meant it. Pamela was not a glittering > beauty, but she had a natural dignity and warmth, as well as good bones, > and Arabella thought her the equal of any young lady in London. "Thank you, Mum, and so do you. Ready to go, then?" Pamela kept up a stream of inoffensive chatter as they left Flash in the kitchen, locked the flat (Alice had been given the night off), and waited for the lift. "I wonder if Mrs. Evans will bring me her sock, so I can set the heel for her. Strange thing to bring to a cocktail party, but I suppose stranger things have happened around Mrs. Evans..." From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Mon Dec 20 18:16:06 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Mon Dec 20 18:18:19 2004 Subject: [MaC] And So it Begins ... Nicola References: <20041220201427.21680.qmail@web20222.mail.yahoo.com> <41C74518.10102@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <014e01c4e6e9$e216a5c0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> But still, she planned to keep her eyes open and to >> remember any suspicious behavior. She didn't know who >> he was, but he certainly knew who she was, of that >> much, she was certain. She walked into the hall just >> in time to hear the creeeeak-rattle-rattle of the lift >> heading past her floor. >> >> "Damn," she whispered to herself. She glanced at the >> stairs with a scowl and began to walk up them. Even >> one flight in her highly fashionable and impractical >> shoes caused her feet to plead for mercy. She emerged >> onto the fifth floor just in time to see Marjorie >> Higgins heading down the hall. She must have arrived >> on the floor just before Nicola herself. Nicola took a >> moment to adjust her hair and walked over, arms wide. >> >> "Marjorie, darling!" she said with a friendly smile. >> "How lovely to see you. You look absolutely smashing >> tonight. How are you, darling?" > > Marjorie turned, surprised. "Oh! Nicola! How lovely > to see you!" Marjorie returned the embrace with a > friendly smile. "I'm... tired," she said with a grin. > "I had to do a double route today, and I can't wait to > get off my feet," she confided in a loud whisper. > > "But you look smashing!" Marjorie said enthusiastically. > "Like a real celebrity! I bet the men won't be able to > take their eyes off you," she said cheerfully. > The sound of their voices seemed to spark off a response. The door opposite opened and Anton Barowenski, the Polish cocnert pianist emerged, impeccably dressed in the white tie and tails of his profession - perhaps a little excessive for a cocktail party. He bowed, with a click of his heels. "Ladies," he said formally. "Good evening ... and Merry Christmas." Just then the door opened, and Marty Fitzroy emerged. His moon face lit up in a smile as he saw Nicola. "My dear Miss Diamond! And Miss ... Miss Higgins. Glad you could make it." He bowed low over Nicola's hand. "You and me should 'ave a little talk," he said. "Later on." He slipped her heand through his arm and turned to lead her to the stairs to the upper dloor, leaving Majorie and Anton to follow. Anton listed his eyebrows briefly and gave a resigned shrug - clearly he was used to this sort of behaviour from his agent. Instead he bowed to Marjorie. "Shall we go up, M'mselle?" From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Mon Dec 20 18:33:32 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Mon Dec 20 18:34:23 2004 Subject: [MaC] At the Fitzroys: Hodges and Braham References: <62.4ababe49.2ef8aec8@aol.com> Message-ID: <017401c4e6ec$51f8d9b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> There in the larger room, the picture windows hung with heavy blackout curtains, Hodges found a long table set with bottles of gin, tonic, bitters, vermouth, scotch, lime juice and a few liqueurs - as well as Malvern water for the faint of heart. Also present was Esme Fitzroy who looked at Hodges nervously, before standing and walking towards him, hand extended. "So good of you to help out," she said colourlessly. "You can mix cocktails, can't you?" "Of course, Mrs. Fitzroy. I'd be happy to fix you a drink if you wish, settle your stomach before the guests arrive..." Hodges offered cheerfully, taking her hand lightly in his own in greeting. Just then, another gentleman entered the parlor. His thoughts about her bloated toad of a husband he kept to himself. "A pink gin," agreed Esme. "That's what I'll have - a pink gin." *** "Good evening, Mr ... ?" "Davis. Braham Davis," he said quickly. "And you must be Mrs. Fitzroy." He took her hand gently and gave a slight bow. "Thank you for the invitation. It is a pleasure to finally meet you." From his accent he was most certainly American; a handsome, young, charismatic American. How he had been managing to blend into the shadows was a bit of a mystery. Esme smailed at him vaguely. "So lovely to see you," she said in a voice devoid of emotion. "Mr. Davis, would you care for a cocktail?" Hodges had assumed a position behind the long table as Mr. Davis introduced himself to the hostess. From faespinner at yahoo.com Mon Dec 20 18:52:58 2004 From: faespinner at yahoo.com (Tara Kunkel) Date: Mon Dec 20 18:54:18 2004 Subject: [MaC] At the Fitzroys: Hodges and Braham In-Reply-To: <017401c4e6ec$51f8d9b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <62.4ababe49.2ef8aec8@aol.com> Message-ID: <5.1.0.14.0.20041220184411.032ba0a8@pop.mail.yahoo.com> >"Of course, Mrs. Fitzroy. I'd be happy to fix you a drink if you wish, >settle your stomach before the guests arrive..." Hodges offered >cheerfully, taking her hand lightly in his own in greeting. Just then, >another gentleman entered the parlor. His thoughts about her bloated toad >of a husband he kept to himself. > >"A pink gin," agreed Esme. "That's what I'll have - a pink gin." > >*** > >"Good evening, Mr ... ?" > >"Davis. Braham Davis," he said quickly. "And you must be Mrs. Fitzroy." He >took her hand gently and gave a slight bow. "Thank you for the invitation. >It is a pleasure to finally meet you." From his accent he was most >certainly American; a handsome, young, charismatic American. How he had >been managing to blend into the shadows was a bit of a mystery. > >Esme smailed at him vaguely. "So lovely to see you," she said in a voice >devoid of emotion. > >"Mr. Davis, would you care for a cocktail?" Hodges had assumed a position >behind the long table as Mr. Davis introduced himself to the hostess. Braham turned his full attention to Hodges, "Ah, yes. That would be wonderful." He ponder the choices for a moment, "Something simple I think. Perhaps a gin and tonic?" A bit of alcohol to take the edge off of any raw emotions would certainly help to make this evening go smoother. He waited patiently for the drinks to be made. Once it was in hand, he resisted to urge to down the entire thing in one gulp. Certainly that would not help him remember the details of the evening later on. As much as he wanted to dull the pain, he needed to stay sharp. So he took a careful sip. "Excellent," he proclaimed for both Hodge's and Esme's sake. "Thank you." From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Mon Dec 20 19:12:17 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Mon Dec 20 19:13:11 2004 Subject: [MaC] At the Fitzroys: More guests arrive References: <62.4ababe49.2ef8aec8@aol.com> <5.1.0.14.0.20041220184411.032ba0a8@pop.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <018401c4e6f1$bb9816b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >>"Davis. Braham Davis," he said quickly. "And you must be Mrs. Fitzroy." He >>took her hand gently and gave a slight bow. "Thank you for the invitation. >>It is a pleasure to finally meet you." From his accent he was most >>certainly American; a handsome, young, charismatic American. How he had >>been managing to blend into the shadows was a bit of a mystery. >> >>Esme smailed at him vaguely. "So lovely to see you," she said in a voice >>devoid of emotion. >> >>"Mr. Davis, would you care for a cocktail?" Hodges had assumed a position >>behind the long table as Mr. Davis introduced himself to the hostess. > > Braham turned his full attention to Hodges, "Ah, yes. That would be > wonderful." He ponder the choices for a moment, "Something simple I > think. Perhaps a gin and tonic?" A bit of alcohol to take the edge off of > any raw emotions would certainly help to make this evening go smoother. > > He waited patiently for the drinks to be made. Once it was in hand, he > resisted to urge to down the entire thing in one gulp. Certainly that > would not help him remember the details of the evening later on. As much > as he wanted to dull the pain, he needed to stay sharp. So he took a > careful sip. "Excellent," he proclaimed for both Hodge's and Esme's sake. > "Thank you." At this point, the host of the party, Marty Fitzroy himself entered, with Nicola Diamond on his arm. They were closely followed by Anton Barowenski with Marjorie Higgins. "More drinks, 'Odges!" ordered Fitzroy. "What will you 'ave, my dear?" he said, turning with an oleaginous smile to Nicola. The sound of the doorbell ringing brought a frown to his face. "You get that, Esme," he ordered abruptly. "Au contraire," said Anton, with a little bow. Mrs. Fitzroy, if you will permit ... and Miss Higgins, if you will excuse me ... " Another bow and he was gone down the stairs. "Well," said Esme faintly, sinking back in her chair. Marty Fitzroy was scowling - clearly his client's intervention had not pleased him. Then he gave a short laugh. "Foreigners!" he said contemptuously, before turning again to Nicola. "Now, Miss Diamond, what 's your poison?" The last was said almost with a leer. From rmpruehs at cac.net Mon Dec 20 20:03:11 2004 From: rmpruehs at cac.net (Ree Moorhead Pruehs) Date: Mon Dec 20 20:04:46 2004 Subject: [MaC] And so it begins....Evangeline In-Reply-To: <5.1.0.14.0.20041220184411.032ba0a8@pop.mail.yahoo.com> References: <62.4ababe49.2ef8aec8@aol.com> <5.1.0.14.0.20041220184411.032ba0a8@pop.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <6.2.0.14.0.20041220192923.03d9b750@mail.cac.net> The Wally dress -- an unashamed copy of the one worn by the Duchess of Windsor at her wedding, only in lavender velvet -- had been Vangie's favorite for some time. The simple floor-length dress and matching jacket were neither plain nor prudish, but they were entirely flattering to an aging figure. Sweetie lay drowsing on the bed as Vangie finished her toilette -- a dash of lipstick, a touch of powder. She smiled fondly at the sight of him, reflected in her mirror. How innocent he looked, that special kitten she'd chosen herself from all the others, Mama's good boy. She reached for her jewelry box. Her fingers -- knuckles grown protrurberant with age, hands showing liver spots, but the nails short and well-kept as ever -- drifted over its contents, lingering here and there. Memories...so many memories...this brooch, that bracelet, this ring or that...the giver, and the circumstances of the giving. Memories. Ghosts, those were. Gone forever. Eventually Vangie selected a plain strand of pearls and matching earrings and donned them before stepping into her plain, low-heeled, sensible dress shoes. It was, she thought, the one good thing about getting old. One need no longer completely enslave oneself to fashion as opposed to allow aging legs and feet the comfort they deserved. She heard Philip thumping around in his bedroom, but did not tap on the door. She had noticed he didn't like being fussed over. And she had never been particularly maternal by nature anyway. "I'll see you upstairs, then," she called loud enough for him to hear. Picking up her clutch purse -- the evening's compromise between her more typical large and overfilled bag and going completely naked -- she stepped out into the hallway. From windeaglebjm at yahoo.com Mon Dec 20 20:16:06 2004 From: windeaglebjm at yahoo.com (Brenda McCartney) Date: Mon Dec 20 20:17:08 2004 Subject: [MaC] And so it begins - Cyril Message-ID: <20041221011606.7535.qmail@web50709.mail.yahoo.com> The door slammed as Cyril bustled into the penthouse flat and hung his hat on the rack near the door. "Is that you, dear," Florence called from the lounge above. "Yes, finally," he called back up the stairs. "I didn't think I was going to make it." Florence met him at the bottom of the stairs, her face white with worry. "Why?" she asked, alarmed. "What happened?" Since the bombing had started months ago, she fretted when he did not come home on time. Cyril smiled at his wife reassuringly. "Nothing, love," he said as he kissed her cheek quickly, then hurried into the bedroom. She followed him, noting that his work clothes were grimier than usual. "We just had a big shipment to get out, and with the lads gone it was up to us old men to load the lorry. We're nowhere near as fast as they are." He stripped off his shoes, jacket and tie, then hustled past Florence into the bathroom to wash up for the party. "Well, at least you still have business," Florence said optimistically, following him back in that direction. "We do," Cyril smiled ruefully, "but it's unfortunate that we have to get so much of it this way." Florence knew what he meant without any further words. The bombings, the destruction. People needed hardware to rebuild, only to be bombed out again. To Cyril, it meant something else as well. There was no profit margin in these kinds of sales. After cleaning up, Cyril rushed back to the bedroom and dug his tuxedo out of the back of the closet. Florence was already dressed in a lovely sky blue gown, Cyril's favorite. The style was a bit dated, but the color brought out the radiant blue of Florence's eyes. Cyril paused in his preparations to look at her and beam. Even after 28 years of marriage and two grown children, sometimes when he looked at her, he felt twenty again. He took his hands in both of his. "It'll be good to gussy up and go out again for a change." Florence giggled at her husband standing in his skivvies. "You'll not be going anywhere until you get dressed, darling. We're late." Even though he was running late, Cyril savored the feeling of dressing formally once again. There was a time when it was commonplace. Back when times were good. The Depression and then the war had made it tough to run a business. Parker & Beaman, Ltd. had managed to hold on so far, but only just. It wasn't just the war that caused the lack of help, though Florence didn't know that. Cyril had had to sack all but a skeleton crew to save money. Nowadays, he was getting his hands dirtier than he had since his Navy days in the Great War. When he was finally ready, Cyril grandly offered his arm to Florence and they breezed off to the Fitzroy party - which was right next door. Florence rang the bell. __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! Mail - Helps protect you from nasty viruses. http://promotions.yahoo.com/new_mail From jvstin at mindspring.com Mon Dec 20 20:18:40 2004 From: jvstin at mindspring.com (Jvstin(Mindspring)) Date: Mon Dec 20 20:19:44 2004 Subject: [MaC] And so it begins...James Drake Message-ID: <41C779F0.4080609@mindspring.com> James Drake looked in the mirror. It was far more natural and comfortable to wear the dark suit than a military uniform. Doubtless, though, that some of the people at the Fitzroy's party would be in military uniform. He straightened out the dark bow tie and looked himself over once more. Immaculate, neat, perfect, from combed hair through black suit and white shirt and bow tie, to dark pants and black shoes. James walked away from the mirror and to the door. Opening it, he looked to each side of the apartment, as was always his wont. Looking in the direction of the lift, he smiled and gave a nod to Oswald and Lucinda as he approached. "Mrs and Mrs Skeffington-Nottle, a pleasure to see you this evening." he said as he reached them. "Shall we, take the lift together?" he offered, his voice just above the clanking of the rising lift. {Tag Oswald and Lucinda} From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Mon Dec 20 20:47:59 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Mon Dec 20 20:50:21 2004 Subject: [MaC] Even more guests arrive References: <20041221011606.7535.qmail@web50709.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <01a001c4e6ff$1c2dd070$0202a8c0@Behemoth> James walked away from the mirror and to the door. Opening it, he looked to each side of the apartment, as was always his wont. Looking in the direction of the lift, he smiled and gave a nod to Oswald and Lucinda as he approached. "Mrs and Mrs Skeffington-Nottle, a pleasure to see you this evening." he said as he reached them. "Shall we, take the lift together?" he offered, his voice just above the clanking of the rising lift. "Let's," agreed Lucinda with her friendly smile. "Isn't it kind of the Fitzroys to ask everyone to a party? Just the thing we need to cheer us up ... it does seem horried to have Christmas in the middle of a war!" "Lou's missing our youngsters," added Oswald. "They're down in Hampshire with her folks." He slid the iron grille door across and pressed the button for the fifth floor. "We should have some decent drink tonight too," he added. "Theatrical types, you know. Although I must say old Fotzroy has never struck me as a particularly sensitive soul. Still, can't be all bad if he's having us all round for drinks." The lift slowly began to ascend ... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ > Even though he was running late, Cyril savored the feeling of dressing > formally once again. There was a time when it was commonplace. Back > when times were good. The Depression and then the war had made it > tough to run a business. Parker & Beaman, Ltd. had managed to hold on > so far, but only just. It wasn't just the war that caused the lack of > help, though Florence didn't know that. Cyril had had to sack all but > a skeleton crew to save money. Nowadays, he was getting his hands > dirtier than he had since his Navy days in the Great War. > > When he was finally ready, Cyril grandly offered his arm to Florence > and they breezed off to the Fitzroy party - which was right next door. > Florence rang the bell. > There was a pause, and then the door was opened by their neighbour, Anton Barowenski. He bowed slightly. "Our host is otherwise engaged," he said with a slight smile. "I am performing the duties of footman. In wartime we must all take what we can get, it seems ... " He paused as the clanking sounds from the lift indicated that it was getting closer. Presently it emerged into view, and even before the iron grille slid open they could all see that it contained James Drake and the Skeffington-Nottles. "Allow me to escort you upstairs," said Anton Barowenski with a little bow, even as the lift began to clank its way down to pick up the next group of guests. "Thanks," said Oswald. "I'm looking forward to this! Will you be playing, Mr Barowenski?" The Polish concert pianist bowed slightly. "I have been requested to," he responded, and there was no mistaking the faint irony in his tone on the word 'request' - the implication being that it had been more of a command than a request. He indicated the stairs to the upper floor. "The party is in the lounge," he said. "I shall await the remaining guests." He smiled faintly. "If one of you gentlemen has a cigarette to spare? I seem to be quite out ... " ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ When this group arrived, they found Hodges, the flats' maintenance man, solemnly mixing drinks for Nicola Diamond and Majorie Higgins, the post woman who lived on the ground floor, while Marty Fitzroy gazed avariciously at Miss Diamond. Also present was the dark young American from Flat 11, Braham Davis and - as usual in the background - Mrs Esme Fitzroy. From kris.kunkel at gmail.com Mon Dec 20 22:11:06 2004 From: kris.kunkel at gmail.com (Knave of Amber) Date: Mon Dec 20 22:12:03 2004 Subject: [MaC] ] And so it begins ... Arabella & Pamela In-Reply-To: <41C75982.1010103@textartisan.com> References: <004401c4e6a4$63e3e040$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41C6FB86.40504@textartisan.com> <00a901c4e6e2$6373d730$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <41C75982.1010103@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <3b089f7c04122019111f79548d@mail.gmail.com> > > "Come in..." Arabella's voice, crisp and clear as always, rang out > > without being raised in the slightest. As the door opened she looked up > > from the bedtable, where she kept the few jewels she had brought with > > her. "Rubies, do you think, dear?" > > "Did you bring *those*, Mum? Goodness, if they're -- oh, you *didn't* > bring the heirloom ones. Good on you; Edmund would fall down in fits if > those were lost or stolen. Yes, those will do quite nicely, I should think." > > > Flash got up from his comfortable pose near his mistress and went over > > to sniff at Pamela's hem. Something in the greyhound's attitude caused > > Arabella to smile at her daughter and say, "He approves. And really, > > dear, you look quite lovely." She meant it. Pamela was not a glittering > > beauty, but she had a natural dignity and warmth, as well as good bones, > > and Arabella thought her the equal of any young lady in London. > > "Thank you, Mum, and so do you. Ready to go, then?" > > Pamela kept up a stream of inoffensive chatter as they left Flash in > the kitchen, locked the flat (Alice had been given the night off), and > waited for the lift. "I wonder if Mrs. Evans will bring me her sock, so > I can set the heel for her. Strange thing to bring to a cocktail party, > but I suppose stranger things have happened around Mrs. Evans..." [...] His uniform was pressed and the creases were as sharp as the edge of a knife. Perhaps he was starting to grey at the temples, but the lines about his eyes were from sun and laughter, not age. Michael adjusted his eyepatch in the small mirror in the hall. He had taken to not wearing it around the apartment, but for the other tenants' sake he donned it as if it were part of his uniform. He made sure his key was in his pocket and made for the door only to stop at the last moment and return to the kitchen. There on the counter was the small box with the horrible bow and the large box with the glorious ribbon. Sure, he could fly planes and take them apart and reassemble them blindfolded, even if it was a smaller blindfold than before, but he couldn't tie a bow to save his live. Not one on a package, at least. The larger one had been done by one of the secretaries at the base. The small box slipped into a pocket and the larger went under his arm. A quick check to ensure that he had turned the radio off in the spare room and he was back in the hall, this time checking his hair before stepping out. He hoped that *she* would be there. In fact she had told him as much, but he still wasn't sure. He opened the door and all concern was hidden as a smile took its place as he noticed the women across the hall at the lift. "Good evening, ladies. Happy Christmas," Michael greeted as he joined them in waiting for the lift. He looked up and said, "Seems some of the others are on their way already." From nowsounds at comcast.net Mon Dec 20 22:16:56 2004 From: nowsounds at comcast.net (Nowsounds) Date: Mon Dec 20 22:18:02 2004 Subject: [MaC] ] And so it begins ... Arabella & Pamela References: <004401c4e6a4$63e3e040$0202a8c0@Behemoth><41C6FB86.40504@textartisan.com><00a901c4e6e2$6373d730$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><41C75982.1010103@textartisan.com> <3b089f7c04122019111f79548d@mail.gmail.com> Message-ID: <015401c4e70b$87956d30$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> >> >> Pamela kept up a stream of inoffensive chatter as they left Flash >> in >> the kitchen, locked the flat (Alice had been given the night off), and >> waited for the lift. "I wonder if Mrs. Evans will bring me her sock, so >> I can set the heel for her. Strange thing to bring to a cocktail party, >> but I suppose stranger things have happened around Mrs. Evans..." "Indeed they have," Arabella said. "She's a good-natured woman, and I can't help liking her, in spite of her being a magnet for odd occurrances. Or perhaps because of it." > His uniform was pressed and the creases were as sharp as the edge of a > knife. Perhaps he was starting to grey at the temples, but the lines > about his eyes were from sun and laughter, not age. Michael adjusted > his eyepatch in the small mirror in the hall. He had taken to not > wearing it around the apartment, but for the other tenants' sake he > donned it as if it were part of his uniform. > > He made sure his key was in his pocket and made for the door only to > stop at the last moment and return to the kitchen. There on the > counter was the small box with the horrible bow and the large box with > the glorious ribbon. Sure, he could fly planes and take them apart and > reassemble them blindfolded, even if it was a smaller blindfold than > before, but he couldn't tie a bow to save his live. Not one on a > package, at least. The larger one had been done by one of the > secretaries at the base. The small box slipped into a pocket and the > larger went under his arm. > > A quick check to ensure that he had turned the radio off in the spare > room and he was back in the hall, this time checking his hair before > stepping out. He hoped that *she* would be there. In fact she had told > him as much, but he still wasn't sure. He opened the door and all > concern was hidden as a smile took its place as he noticed the women > across the hall at the lift. > > "Good evening, ladies. Happy Christmas," Michael greeted as he joined > them in waiting for the lift. He looked up and said, "Seems some of > the others are on their way already." "And a Happy Christmas to you, Group Captain," Arabella said with a smile. "It does look as if there will be a good turnout... As far as that goes, I think this party may be a very good thing. We all know we're at war, but fellowship and celebration are things worth fighting for, don't you think?" From jjkatalenic at yahoo.com Mon Dec 20 22:20:40 2004 From: jjkatalenic at yahoo.com (Jonathan Katalenic) Date: Mon Dec 20 22:21:47 2004 Subject: [MaC] At the Fitzroys: More guests arrive In-Reply-To: <018401c4e6f1$bb9816b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <20041221032040.86905.qmail@web20221.mail.yahoo.com> At this point, the host of the party, Marty Fitzroy himself entered, with Nicola Diamond on his arm. They were closely followed by Anton Barowenski with Marjorie Higgins. "More drinks, 'Odges!" ordered Fitzroy. "What will you 'ave, my dear?" he said, turning with an oleaginous smile to Nicola. The sound of the doorbell ringing brought a frown to his face. "You get that, Esme," he ordered abruptly. "Au contraire," said Anton, with a little bow. Mrs. Fitzroy, if you will permit ... and Miss Higgins, if you will excuse me ... " Another bow and he was gone down the stairs. "Well," said Esme faintly, sinking back in her chair. Marty Fitzroy was scowling - clearly his client's intervention had not pleased him. Then he gave a short laugh. "Foreigners!" he said contemptuously, before turning again to Nicola. "Now, Miss Diamond, what 's your poison?" The last was said almost with a leer. 'It's Douglas, you boorish ass of a man. You'd think you'd remember that Diamond is the one you're carrying on with and Douglas is the one you WISH to carry on with,' Nicola said, but only in her head. Remember, her mother had told her, a lady never corrects her host unless it is a matter of life or death. She bit her tongue and obeyed her mother's sage words. "Oh, I never know what to order," she demurred, batting her heavily-mascared eyelashes. To Hodges, she said politely, "Anything with gin in it will do me just fine, Mr. Hodges." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ When this group arrived, they found Hodges, the flats' maintenance man, solemnly mixing drinks for Nicola Diamond and Majorie Higgins, the post woman who lived on the ground floor, while Marty Fitzroy gazed avariciously at Miss Diamond. Also present was the dark young American from Flat 11, Braham Davis and - as usual in the background - Mrs Esme Fitzroy. Nicola brightened at the sight of new guests and, drink in hand, headed over to greet the new arrivals. 'Thank God. One more minute with that awful Fitzroy and I would have screamed,' she thought. "Mr. and Mrs. Skeffington-Nottle!" she said warmly. "How delightful to see you. Come, have a drink!" [ooc: please correct me if I've done something wrong here- I think it's okay, but I'm not sure if I've made a mistake in answering two different threads at the same time.] __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Meet the all-new My Yahoo! - Try it today! http://my.yahoo.com From margdean at erols.com Mon Dec 20 22:32:18 2004 From: margdean at erols.com (Margaret Dean) Date: Mon Dec 20 22:33:41 2004 Subject: [MaC] And so it begins....Evangeline & Marion References: <62.4ababe49.2ef8aec8@aol.com> <5.1.0.14.0.20041220184411.032ba0a8@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <6.2.0.14.0.20041220192923.03d9b750@mail.cac.net> Message-ID: <41C79942.CDC22434@erols.com> Ree Moorhead Pruehs wrote: > Eventually Vangie selected a plain strand of pearls and matching earrings > and donned them before stepping into her plain, low-heeled, sensible dress > shoes. It was, she thought, the one good thing about getting old. One need > no longer completely enslave oneself to fashion as opposed to allow aging > legs and feet the comfort they deserved. > > She heard Philip thumping around in his bedroom, but did not tap on the > door. She had noticed he didn't like being fussed over. And she had never > been particularly maternal by nature anyway. > > "I'll see you upstairs, then," she called loud enough for him to hear. > Picking up her clutch purse -- the evening's compromise between her more > typical large and overfilled bag and going completely naked -- she stepped > out into the hallway. The clanking of the lift announced its arrival from the floor below. As it halted, Vangie could see that Marion Mauberly was inside. She smiled when she saw Vangie and opened the iron grille for her. "Is Philip coming?" she asked. --Margaret Dean From jvstin at gmail.com Mon Dec 20 22:45:51 2004 From: jvstin at gmail.com (Jvstin) Date: Mon Dec 20 22:46:47 2004 Subject: [MaC] At the Fitzroys: More guests arrive In-Reply-To: <20041221032040.86905.qmail@web20221.mail.yahoo.com> References: <018401c4e6f1$bb9816b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <20041221032040.86905.qmail@web20221.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <36e1ae0304122019453a37716e@mail.gmail.com> On Mon, 20 Dec 2004 19:20:40 -0800 (PST), Jonathan Katalenic wrote: > At this point, the host of the party, Marty Fitzroy > himself entered, with Nicola Diamond on his arm. They > were closely followed by Anton Barowenski with > Marjorie Higgins. > > "More drinks, 'Odges!" ordered Fitzroy. "What will > you 'ave, my dear?" he said, turning with an > oleaginous smile to Nicola. The sound of the > doorbell ringing brought a frown to his face. "You > get that, Esme," he ordered abruptly. > > "Au contraire," said Anton, with a little bow. Mrs. > Fitzroy, if you will permit ... and Miss Higgins, if > you will excuse me ... " > > Another bow and he was gone down the stairs. > > "Well," said Esme faintly, sinking back in her chair. > > Marty Fitzroy was scowling - clearly his client's > intervention had not pleased him. Then he gave a > short laugh. "Foreigners!" he said contemptuously, > before turning again to Nicola. "Now, Miss Diamond, > what 's your poison?" The last was said almost with a > leer. > > 'It's Douglas, you boorish ass of a man. You'd think > you'd remember that Diamond is the one you're carrying > on with and Douglas is the one you WISH to carry on > with,' Nicola said, but only in her head. Remember, > her mother had told her, a lady never corrects her > host unless it is a matter of life or death. She bit > her tongue and obeyed her mother's sage words. > > "Oh, I never know what to order," she demurred, > batting her heavily-mascared eyelashes. To Hodges, she > said politely, "Anything with gin in it will do me > just fine, Mr. Hodges." > > ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ > > When this group arrived, they found Hodges, the flats' > maintenance man, solemnly mixing drinks for Nicola > Diamond and Majorie Higgins, the post woman who lived > on the ground floor, while Marty Fitzroy gazed > avariciously at Miss Diamond. Also present was the > dark young American from Flat 11, Braham Davis and - > as usual in the background - Mrs Esme Fitzroy. > > Nicola brightened at the sight of new guests and, > drink in hand, headed over to greet the new arrivals. > 'Thank God. One more minute with that awful Fitzroy > and I would have screamed,' she thought. > > "Mr. and Mrs. Skeffington-Nottle!" she said warmly. > "How delightful to see you. Come, have a drink!" > James smiled at this point, more to himself than anything else. "Greetings to you, Miss Douglas." James said pleasantly, turning the smile from himself, to her. He stepped away from the Skeffington-Nottles and moved into the room, his hazel eyes looking around at the gathered guests. {Tag anyone who wants to break the ice first} From Mrfury28 at aol.com Mon Dec 20 23:03:39 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Mon Dec 20 23:04:36 2004 Subject: [MaC] At the Fitzroys: More guests arrive Message-ID: <96.1cfa2f7e.2ef8fa9b@aol.com> "Excellent," he proclaimed for both Hodge's and Esme's sake. "Thank you." "You are quite welcome, Mr. Braham." Hodges replied. As more people entered, the older man found himself quite busy preparing drinks. ~Gin seems to be the drink of the evening.~ He noted to himself, mentally checking Fitzroy's inventory to make certain there were several bottles on hand. "Oh, I never know what to order," she demurred, batting her heavily-mascared eyelashes. To Hodges, she said politely, "Anything with gin in it will do me just fine, Mr. Hodges." "Yes, miss." Hodges responded a bit stiffly. "And for you, Miss Higgins?" He turned his attention to the other young woman. -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041220/9f622a0c/attachment.htm From veazeyae at gmail.com Mon Dec 20 23:44:35 2004 From: veazeyae at gmail.com (Allen Veazey) Date: Mon Dec 20 23:45:31 2004 Subject: [MaC] At the Fitzroys: More guests arrive In-Reply-To: <96.1cfa2f7e.2ef8fa9b@aol.com> References: <96.1cfa2f7e.2ef8fa9b@aol.com> Message-ID: > "Excellent," he proclaimed for both Hodge's and Esme's sake. "Thank you." > > "You are quite welcome, Mr. Braham." Hodges replied. As more people > entered, the older man found himself quite busy preparing drinks. ~Gin > seems to be the drink of the evening.~ He noted to himself, mentally > checking Fitzroy's inventory to make certain there were several bottles on > hand. > "Oh, I never know what to order," she demurred, batting her heavily-mascared > eyelashes. To Hodges, she said politely, "Anything with gin in it will do me > just fine, Mr. Hodges." > > "Yes, miss." Hodges responded a bit stiffly. "And for you, Miss Higgins?" > He turned his attention to the other young woman. There was another knock at the door, which turned out to be the Flight Officer, Warren Worthington. A relative newcomer to most, still he had been seen here and there. His face was pale, and he was patting his face and neck with a handkerchief. He gave a weak smile. "Missed the lift," he said. "I knew it would be a while before it came back down, so I tried the service lift. Stuffy in there." He leaned heavily on his cane, added, "Ah... forgive me. Good to see you all." From dorothea at textartisan.com Mon Dec 20 23:44:59 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Mon Dec 20 23:47:46 2004 Subject: [MaC] ] And so it begins ... Arabella & Pamela & Michael In-Reply-To: <015401c4e70b$87956d30$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> References: <004401c4e6a4$63e3e040$0202a8c0@Behemoth><41C6FB86.40504@textartisan.com><00a901c4e6e2$6373d730$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><41C75982.1010103@textartisan.com> <3b089f7c04122019111f79548d@mail.gmail.com> <015401c4e70b$87956d30$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> Message-ID: <41C7AA4B.10102@textartisan.com> >> "Good evening, ladies. Happy Christmas," Michael greeted as he joined >> them in waiting for the lift. He looked up and said, "Seems some of >> the others are on their way already." > > > "And a Happy Christmas to you, Group Captain," Arabella said with a > smile. "It does look as if there will be a good turnout... As far as > that goes, I think this party may be a very good thing. We all know > we're at war, but fellowship and celebration are things worth fighting > for, don't you think?" Pamela repressed a salute, murmuring a polite greeting instead. One would not have thought that a woman taller and more imposing than her mother could so easily disappear into the background behind her. The lift bobbed to a stop and opened; Pamela stepped aside to let her mother go before her, brushing past Coldsmith-Briggs with a murmured apology as she followed. From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Tue Dec 21 00:28:37 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Tue Dec 21 00:29:36 2004 Subject: [MaC] And so it begins....Evangeline In-Reply-To: <6.2.0.14.0.20041220192923.03d9b750@mail.cac.net> Message-ID: <009001c4e71d$ef0ad970$96f1fea9@BriansPC> > She heard Philip thumping around in his bedroom, but did not > tap on the door. She had noticed he didn't like being fussed > over. And she had never been particularly maternal by nature > anyway. > > "I'll see you upstairs, then," she called loud enough for him > to hear. "I'll be right there," he replied, slightly muffled by the door. He did his best to mask the frustration in his voice, but Evangeline had heard it often enough to pick it up. "Just finishing up here. You go ahead and take the lift with Ms. Mauberly; I'll take the stairs and be right along." [Both my feet still work, after all,] he didn't say. *There.* The last recalcitrant button was finally in place. He glanced at the small mirror over the aged bureau that served him as a wardrobe; apart from the slight flush on his face and the bandages on his hand, he looked quite good. Uniforms did that for a man, particularly in the eyes of the ladies. If only one particular lady could see him as she once had... Shaking his head, he brushed a comb through his hair one last time and headed for the door. From hmace at elfworks.com Tue Dec 21 02:35:24 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Tue Dec 21 02:36:35 2004 Subject: [MaC] And So it Begins ... Nicola In-Reply-To: <014e01c4e6e9$e216a5c0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041220201427.21680.qmail@web20222.mail.yahoo.com> <41C74518.10102@elfworks.com> <014e01c4e6e9$e216a5c0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41C7D23C.6020909@elfworks.com> >> >> "But you look smashing!" Marjorie said enthusiastically. >> "Like a real celebrity! I bet the men won't be able to >> take their eyes off you," she said cheerfully. >> > > The sound of their voices seemed to spark off a response. The door > opposite opened and Anton Barowenski, the Polish cocnert pianist > emerged, impeccably dressed in the white tie and tails of his profession > - perhaps a little excessive for a cocktail party. > > He bowed, with a click of his heels. "Ladies," he said formally. "Good > evening ... and Merry Christmas." > > Just then the door opened, and Marty Fitzroy emerged. His moon face lit > up in a smile as he saw Nicola. "My dear Miss Diamond! And Miss ... > Miss Higgins. Glad you could make it." > > He bowed low over Nicola's hand. "You and me should 'ave a little > talk," he said. "Later on." > > He slipped her heand through his arm and turned to lead her to the > stairs to the upper dloor, leaving Majorie and Anton to follow. Anton > listed his eyebrows briefly and gave a resigned shrug - clearly he was > used to this sort of behaviour from his agent. Instead he bowed to > Marjorie. > > "Shall we go up, M'mselle?" Marjorie nodded decisively. "Let's, Mr. Barowenski. And call me Marjorie," she said with a smile as she took Anton's arm and allowed him to show her in to the Fitzroys' flat. From hmace at elfworks.com Tue Dec 21 02:41:53 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Tue Dec 21 02:42:46 2004 Subject: [MaC] At the Fitzroys: More guests arrive In-Reply-To: References: <96.1cfa2f7e.2ef8fa9b@aol.com> Message-ID: <41C7D3C1.3080509@elfworks.com> >>"Oh, I never know what to order," she demurred, batting her heavily-mascared >>eyelashes. To Hodges, she said politely, "Anything with gin in it will do me >>just fine, Mr. Hodges." >> >>"Yes, miss." Hodges responded a bit stiffly. "And for you, Miss Higgins?" >> He turned his attention to the other young woman. "I'd... like.. a gin and tonic if you please, Mr. Hodges," Marjorie answered. "Been a while since I could afford the nice stuff, if you know what I mean," she grinned at the maintenance man. > There was another knock at the door, which turned out to > be the Flight Officer, Warren Worthington. A relative newcomer > to most, still he had been seen here and there. His face was > pale, and he was patting his face and neck with a handkerchief. > He gave a weak smile. > > "Missed the lift," he said. "I knew it would be a while before > it came back down, so I tried the service lift. Stuffy in there." > He leaned heavily on his cane, added, "Ah... forgive me. > Good to see you all." From rmpruehs at cac.net Tue Dec 21 05:32:17 2004 From: rmpruehs at cac.net (Ree Moorhead Pruehs) Date: Tue Dec 21 05:46:03 2004 Subject: [MaC] And so it begins....Evangeline & Marion In-Reply-To: <41C79942.CDC22434@erols.com> References: <62.4ababe49.2ef8aec8@aol.com> <5.1.0.14.0.20041220184411.032ba0a8@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <6.2.0.14.0.20041220192923.03d9b750@mail.cac.net> <41C79942.CDC22434@erols.com> Message-ID: <6.2.0.14.0.20041221052654.03f1b208@mail.cac.net> > > Eventually Vangie selected a plain strand of pearls and matching earrings > > and donned them before stepping into her plain, low-heeled, sensible dress > > shoes. It was, she thought, the one good thing about getting old. One need > > no longer completely enslave oneself to fashion as opposed to allow aging > > legs and feet the comfort they deserved. > > > > She heard Philip thumping around in his bedroom, but did not tap on the > > door. She had noticed he didn't like being fussed over. And she had never > > been particularly maternal by nature anyway. > > > > "I'll see you upstairs, then," she called loud enough for him to hear. > > Picking up her clutch purse -- the evening's compromise between her more > > typical large and overfilled bag and going completely naked -- she stepped > > out into the hallway. > >The clanking of the lift announced its arrival from the floor >below. As it halted, Vangie could see that Marion Mauberly was >inside. She smiled when she saw Vangie and opened the iron >grille for her. > >"Is Philip coming?" she asked. "He'll still be a bit....said he'd take the stairs," Vangie said, stepping in. =Stubborn pride,= she thought, but not unfondly. She smiled at the younger woman. "How lovely you look!" She closed the grille again, and the elevator creaked upward. From jvstin at mindspring.com Tue Dec 21 06:01:33 2004 From: jvstin at mindspring.com (Jvstin(Mindspring)) Date: Tue Dec 21 06:21:32 2004 Subject: [MaC] At the Fitzroys: More guests arrive In-Reply-To: <41C7D3C1.3080509@elfworks.com> References: <96.1cfa2f7e.2ef8fa9b@aol.com> <41C7D3C1.3080509@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <41C8028D.3080606@mindspring.com> on 12/21/2004 1:41 AM Heather Mace said the following: > >>> "Oh, I never know what to order," she demurred, batting her >>> heavily-mascared >>> eyelashes. To Hodges, she said politely, "Anything with gin in it >>> will do me >>> just fine, Mr. Hodges." >>> >>> "Yes, miss." Hodges responded a bit stiffly. "And for you, Miss >>> Higgins?" >>> He turned his attention to the other young woman. > > > "I'd... like.. a gin and tonic if you please, Mr. Hodges," > Marjorie answered. "Been a while since I could afford the > nice stuff, if you know what I mean," she grinned at the > maintenance man. > > >> There was another knock at the door, which turned out to be the Flight >> Officer, Warren Worthington. A relative newcomer >> to most, still he had been seen here and there. His face was >> pale, and he was patting his face and neck with a handkerchief. >> He gave a weak smile. >> "Missed the lift," he said. "I knew it would be a while before >> it came back down, so I tried the service lift. Stuffy in there." >> He leaned heavily on his cane, added, "Ah... forgive me. Good to see >> you all." > James turned from his spot and gave a nod to the Flight Officer. "Good eve, Officer Worthington. The, ah, skies in here are still not overly crowded." he said, with a trace of a smile. From kris.kunkel at gmail.com Tue Dec 21 07:24:44 2004 From: kris.kunkel at gmail.com (Knave of Amber) Date: Tue Dec 21 07:25:42 2004 Subject: [MaC] ] And so it begins ... Arabella & Pamela & Michael In-Reply-To: <41C7AA4B.10102@textartisan.com> References: <004401c4e6a4$63e3e040$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41C6FB86.40504@textartisan.com> <00a901c4e6e2$6373d730$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <41C75982.1010103@textartisan.com> <3b089f7c04122019111f79548d@mail.gmail.com> <015401c4e70b$87956d30$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <41C7AA4B.10102@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <3b089f7c04122104244925cd2c@mail.gmail.com> On Mon, 20 Dec 2004 22:44:59 -0600, Dorothea Salo wrote: > >> "Good evening, ladies. Happy Christmas," Michael greeted as he joined > >> them in waiting for the lift. He looked up and said, "Seems some of > >> the others are on their way already." > > > > > > "And a Happy Christmas to you, Group Captain," Arabella said with a > > smile. "It does look as if there will be a good turnout... As far as > > that goes, I think this party may be a very good thing. We all know > > we're at war, but fellowship and celebration are things worth fighting > > for, don't you think?" > > Pamela repressed a salute, murmuring a polite greeting instead. One > would not have thought that a woman taller and more imposing than her > mother could so easily disappear into the background behind her. > > The lift bobbed to a stop and opened; Pamela stepped aside to let her > mother go before her, brushing past Coldsmith-Briggs with a murmured > apology as she followed. > > [Sorry, missed this... Erm, how would you like to edit?] From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Tue Dec 21 07:52:26 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Tue Dec 21 07:53:11 2004 Subject: [MaC] At the Party: Warren and James (and anyone else who wishes to join in) Message-ID: <00ac01c4e75b$ec7642b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> (OOC - please note the additional information about the lifts in this post) There was another knock at the door, which turned out to be the Flight Officer, Warren Worthington. A relative newcomer to most, still he had been seen here and there. His face was pale, and he was patting his face and neck with a handkerchief. He gave a weak smile. "Missed the lift," he said. "I knew it would be a while before it came back down, so I tried the service lift. Stuffy in there." This, of course, explained the knock on the lounge door, for while the main lift ran up only as far as the lower floor of the penthouse flats, the service lift rose an extra level and gave immediate access to the lounge. Warren leaned heavily on his cane, added, "Ah... forgive me. Good to see you all." James turned from his spot and gave a nod to the Flight Officer. "Good eve, Officer Worthington. The, ah, skies in here are still not overly crowded." he said, with a trace of a smile. From margdean at erols.com Tue Dec 21 08:05:08 2004 From: margdean at erols.com (Margaret Dean) Date: Tue Dec 21 08:06:58 2004 Subject: [MaC] And so it begins....Evangeline & Marion References: <62.4ababe49.2ef8aec8@aol.com> <5.1.0.14.0.20041220184411.032ba0a8@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <6.2.0.14.0.20041220192923.03d9b750@mail.cac.net> <41C79942.CDC22434@erols.com> <6.2.0.14.0.20041221052654.03f1b208@mail.cac.net> Message-ID: <41C81F84.65E10E80@erols.com> Ree Moorhead Pruehs wrote: > > > > Eventually Vangie selected a plain strand of pearls and matching > > > earrings and donned them before stepping into her plain, low-heeled, > > > sensible dress shoes. It was, she thought, the one good thing about > > > getting old. One need no longer completely enslave oneself to fashion > > > as opposed to allow aging legs and feet the comfort they deserved. > > > > > > She heard Philip thumping around in his bedroom, but did not tap on > > > the door. She had noticed he didn't like being fussed over. And she > > > had never been particularly maternal by nature anyway. > > > > > > "I'll see you upstairs, then," she called loud enough for him to hear. > > > Picking up her clutch purse -- the evening's compromise between her > > > more typical large and overfilled bag and going completely naked -- > > > she stepped out into the hallway. > > > >The clanking of the lift announced its arrival from the floor > >below. As it halted, Vangie could see that Marion Mauberly was > >inside. She smiled when she saw Vangie and opened the iron > >grille for her. > > > >"Is Philip coming?" she asked. > > "He'll still be a bit....said he'd take the stairs," Vangie said, stepping > in. =Stubborn pride,= she thought, but not unfondly. She smiled at the > younger woman. "How lovely you look!" > > She closed the grille again, and the elevator creaked upward. "And you look just like the Duchess of Windsor," Marion replied, and added on a teasing note, "Well worth giving up a kingdom for." As the lift slowly ascended to the floor above, she did a quick rummage through her own gold-and-black clutch purse. "Oh, good, I didn't forget my pills. It would be a bore to have to go down and fetch them." Vangie was aware that Marion suffered from occasional migraines, and habitually carried a tube of little blue pills. --Margaret Dean From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Tue Dec 21 08:09:59 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Tue Dec 21 08:11:45 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella & Pamela & Michael References: <004401c4e6a4$63e3e040$0202a8c0@Behemoth><41C6FB86.40504@textartisan.com><00a901c4e6e2$6373d730$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><41C75982.1010103@textartisan.com><3b089f7c04122019111f79548d@mail.gmail.com><015401c4e70b$87956d30$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><41C7AA4B.10102@textartisan.com> <3b089f7c04122104244925cd2c@mail.gmail.com> Message-ID: <00b201c4e75e$603848e0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> >> "Good evening, ladies. Happy Christmas," Michael greeted as he joined >> >> them in waiting for the lift. He looked up and said, "Seems some of >> >> the others are on their way already." >> > >> > >> > "And a Happy Christmas to you, Group Captain," Arabella said with a >> > smile. "It does look as if there will be a good turnout... As far as >> > that goes, I think this party may be a very good thing. We all know >> > we're at war, but fellowship and celebration are things worth fighting >> > for, don't you think?" >> >> Pamela repressed a salute, murmuring a polite greeting instead. >> One >> would not have thought that a woman taller and more imposing than her >> mother could so easily disappear into the background behind her. >> >> The lift bobbed to a stop and opened; Pamela stepped aside to let >> her >> mother go before her, brushing past Coldsmith-Briggs with a murmured >> apology as she followed. >> Michael looked happy and his smile spread in a devil may care manneras he joined the women in the lift. Taking Pamela's hand he lifted it to his lips gently, "That and the favors of a beautiful woman." "You ladies both look smashing this evening," he said with a wink to Pamela as he released her hand and looked back to the Dowager. "If nothing else happens this evening, I'm sure to be complimented for thecompany I arrive with." The lift rose steadily through the block until it reached the fifth floor. There, as they disembarked, they saw that the door of the Fitzroys' flat was open, and Anton Barowenski, a cigarette in one hand, was deep in conversation with Miss Nola Diamond, the film actress and another of Marty Fitzroy's clients. Both fell silent as the other three joined them - a silence broken only by the clank of the lift as it started back down again ... and steps on the stairs. "Everyone is in the lounge," said Barowenski. "Perhaps you would care to join them." He seemed slightly agitated. The RAF officer, Philip Powell, appeared at this point rounded the corner of the stairs, having climbed from his floor. "Excuse me," said Nola. "I look a fright - I'll go and powder my nose." Nothing could, in fact, have been further from the truth - she looked radiant. But she slipped away down the corridor towards the bathroom. Barowenski shrugged. "She is wishing to make an entrance," he said. "She is a star." He indicated the stairs. "We should go up, perhaps. Most are here, I think." From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Tue Dec 21 08:12:18 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Tue Dec 21 08:13:53 2004 Subject: [MaC] A mishap on the way to the party: Evangeline & Marion References: <62.4ababe49.2ef8aec8@aol.com><5.1.0.14.0.20041220184411.032ba0a8@pop.mail.yahoo.com><6.2.0.14.0.20041220192923.03d9b750@mail.cac.net><41C79942.CDC22434@erols.com><6.2.0.14.0.20041221052654.03f1b208@mail.cac.net> <41C81F84.65E10E80@erols.com> Message-ID: <00b601c4e75e$b2e264e0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> >The clanking of the lift announced its arrival from the floor >> >below. As it halted, Vangie could see that Marion Mauberly was >> >inside. She smiled when she saw Vangie and opened the iron >> >grille for her. >> > >> >"Is Philip coming?" she asked. >> >> "He'll still be a bit....said he'd take the stairs," Vangie said, >> stepping >> in. =Stubborn pride,= she thought, but not unfondly. She smiled at the >> younger woman. "How lovely you look!" >> >> She closed the grille again, and the elevator creaked upward. > > "And you look just like the Duchess of Windsor," Marion replied, > and added on a teasing note, "Well worth giving up a kingdom > for." > > As the lift slowly ascended to the floor above, she did a quick > rummage through her own gold-and-black clutch purse. "Oh, good, > I didn't forget my pills. It would be a bore to have to go down > and fetch them." > > Vangie was aware that Marion suffered from occasional migraines, > and habitually carried a tube of little blue pills. > And then the lift stopped. Abruptly. And suspended between two floors. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Tue Dec 21 08:15:40 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Tue Dec 21 08:16:31 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, Pamela, Michael & Philip References: <004401c4e6a4$63e3e040$0202a8c0@Behemoth><41C6FB86.40504@textartisan.com><00a901c4e6e2$6373d730$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><41C75982.1010103@textartisan.com><3b089f7c04122019111f79548d@mail.gmail.com><015401c4e70b$87956d30$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><41C7AA4B.10102@textartisan.com><3b089f7c04122104244925cd2c@mail.gmail.com> <00b201c4e75e$603848e0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <00c201c4e75f$2b90b630$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> >> "Good evening, ladies. Happy Christmas," Michael greeted as he joined >> >> them in waiting for the lift. He looked up and said, "Seems some of >> >> the others are on their way already." >> > >> > >> > "And a Happy Christmas to you, Group Captain," Arabella said with a >> > smile. "It does look as if there will be a good turnout... As far as >> > that goes, I think this party may be a very good thing. We all know >> > we're at war, but fellowship and celebration are things worth fighting >> > for, don't you think?" >> >> Pamela repressed a salute, murmuring a polite greeting instead. >> One >> would not have thought that a woman taller and more imposing than her >> mother could so easily disappear into the background behind her. >> >> The lift bobbed to a stop and opened; Pamela stepped aside to let >> her >> mother go before her, brushing past Coldsmith-Briggs with a murmured >> apology as she followed. >> Michael looked happy and his smile spread in a devil may care manneras he joined the women in the lift. Taking Pamela's hand he lifted it to his lips gently, "That and the favors of a beautiful woman." "You ladies both look smashing this evening," he said with a wink to Pamela as he released her hand and looked back to the Dowager. "If nothing else happens this evening, I'm sure to be complimented for thecompany I arrive with." The lift rose steadily through the block until it reached the fifth floor. There, as they disembarked, they saw that the door of the Fitzroys' flat was open, and Anton Barowenski, a cigarette in one hand, was deep in conversation with Miss Nola Diamond, the film actress and another of Marty Fitzroy's clients. Both fell silent as the other three joined them - a silence broken only by the clank of the lift as it started back down again .. and steps on the stairs. "Everyone is in the lounge," said Barowenski. "Perhaps you would care to join them." He seemed slightly agitated. The RAF officer, Philip Powell, appeared at this point rounded the corner of the stairs, having climbed from his floor. "Excuse me," said Nola. "I look a fright - I'll go and powder my nose." Nothing could, in fact, have been further from the truth - she looked radiant. But she slipped away down the corridor towards the bathroom. Barowenski shrugged. "She is wishing to make an entrance," he said. "She is a star." He indicated the stairs. "We should go up, perhaps. Most are here, I think." From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Tue Dec 21 08:24:54 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Tue Dec 21 08:25:54 2004 Subject: [MaC] Mingling at the Party: General Message-ID: <00ca01c4e760$758391d0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> When this group arrived, they found Hodges, the flats' maintenance man, solemnly mixing drinks for Nicola Douglas and Majorie Higgins, the post woman who lived on the ground floor, while Marty Fitzroy gazed avariciously at Miss Diamond. Also present was the dark young American from Flat 11, Braham Davis and - as usual in the background - Mrs Esme Fitzroy. Nicola brightened at the sight of new guests and, drink in hand, headed over to greet the new arrivals. 'Thank God. One more minute with that awful Fitzroy and I would have screamed,' she thought. "Mr. and Mrs. Skeffington-Nottle!" she said warmly. "How delightful to see you. Come, have a drink!" James smiled at this point, more to himself than anything else. "Greetings to you, Miss Douglas." James said pleasantly, turning the smile from himself, to her. He stepped away from the Skeffington-Nottles and moved into the room, his hazel eyes looking around at the gathered guests. Lucinda moved forward to greet Nicola. "What a lovely dress!" she said warmly. "Did you buy it in New York? You must have done - all our shops are quite bare now ... " Oswald, in a practised manoeuvre, moved towards Marty Fitzroy. "Do tell," he said, "how are you finding the raids are affecting audience figures?" (OOC - feel free to break up into little groups and chat - and to try and buttonhole any characters you feel an urgent need to talk to) From nowsounds at comcast.net Tue Dec 21 08:41:36 2004 From: nowsounds at comcast.net (Nowsounds) Date: Tue Dec 21 08:42:35 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, Pamela, Michael & Philip References: <004401c4e6a4$63e3e040$0202a8c0@Behemoth><41C6FB86.40504@textartisan.com><00a901c4e6e2$6373d730$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><41C75982.1010103@textartisan.com><3b089f7c04122019111f79548d@mail.gmail.com><015401c4e70b$87956d30$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><41C7AA4B.10102@textartisan.com><3b089f7c04122104244925cd2c@mail.gmail.com><00b201c4e75e$603848e0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <00c201c4e75f$2b90b630$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <004801c4e762$ca76c890$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> > > The lift rose steadily through the block until it reached the fifth floor. > There, as they disembarked, they saw that the door of the Fitzroys' flat > was > open, and Anton Barowenski, a cigarette in one hand, was deep in > conversation with Miss Nola Diamond, the film actress and another of Marty > Fitzroy's clients. Both fell silent as the other three joined them - a > silence broken only by the clank of the lift as it started back down again > .. and steps on the stairs. > > "Everyone is in the lounge," said Barowenski. "Perhaps you would care to > join them." He seemed slightly agitated. Arabella admired and liked the young pianist, but did not know him well enough to ask why he seemed distressed. "Yes, of course," she said, with a smile for Barowenski. "I'm afraid we were running just a bit late and it was all my fault. I was seized with a sudden fit of indecisiveness..." > > The RAF officer, Philip Powell, appeared at this point rounded the corner > of > the stairs, having climbed from his floor. > > "Excuse me," said Nola. "I look a fright - I'll go and powder my nose." > > Nothing could, in fact, have been further from the truth - she looked > radiant. But she slipped away down the corridor towards the bathroom. > Barowenski shrugged. > > "She is wishing to make an entrance," he said. "She is a star." > > He indicated the stairs. "We should go up, perhaps. Most are here, I > think." Arabella answered his shrug with one of her own. Nola Diamond was attractive in the modern way, she supposed, but she didn't see anything of the true 'star' about the woman. A bit common, she thought, but did not say. "Absolutely, Mr. Barowenski." She gave a little nod to Pamela and the two officers, and started in. She had never concerned herself about 'making an entrance' and doubted that she ever would... From dorothea at textartisan.com Tue Dec 21 08:58:56 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (dorothea@textartisan.com) Date: Tue Dec 21 08:59:56 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, Pamela, Michael & Philip In-Reply-To: <004801c4e762$ca76c890$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> References: <004401c4e6a4$63e3e040$0202a8c0@Behemoth><41C6FB86.40504@textartisan.com><00a901c4e6e2$6373d730$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><41C75982.1010103@textartisan.com><3b089f7c04122019111f79548d@mail.gmail.com><015401c4e70b$87956d30$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><41C7AA4B.10102@textartisan.com><3b089f7c04122104244925cd2c@mail.gmail.com><00b201c4e75e$603848e0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <00c201c4e75f$2b90b630$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <004801c4e762$ca76c890$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> Message-ID: <1131.144.92.201.87.1103637536.squirrel@144.92.201.87> > Arabella answered his shrug with one of her own. Nola Diamond was > attractive > in the modern way, she supposed, but she didn't see anything of the true > 'star' about the woman. A bit common, she thought, but did not say. > "Absolutely, Mr. Barowenski." She gave a little nod to Pamela and the two > officers, and started in. She had never concerned herself about 'making an > entrance' and doubted that she ever would... "Just a moment, Mum; I'll be right after," Pamela said, turning toward Philip. "Pilot Officer Powell, isn't it? Pamela Hutchinson, occasionally of the Women's Auxiliary. Won't you take me in, sir?" This was a minor solecism, with the pianist standing right there and without an actual introduction, but she committed it with the best of intent; Pamela knew Philip's story, and wanted to honour it in what small way she could. From rpruehs at Itctransco.com Tue Dec 21 09:28:04 2004 From: rpruehs at Itctransco.com (Pruehs, Ree M.) Date: Tue Dec 21 09:49:36 2004 Subject: [MaC] A mishap on the way to the party: Evangeline & Marion Message-ID: > >> >The clanking of the lift announced its arrival from the > floor below. > >> >As it halted, Vangie could see that Marion Mauberly was > inside. She > >> >smiled when she saw Vangie and opened the iron grille for her. > >> > > >> >"Is Philip coming?" she asked. > >> > >> "He'll still be a bit....said he'd take the stairs," Vangie said, > >> stepping > >> in. =Stubborn pride,= she thought, but not unfondly. She > smiled at the > >> younger woman. "How lovely you look!" > >> > >> She closed the grille again, and the elevator creaked upward. > > > > "And you look just like the Duchess of Windsor," Marion > replied, and > > added on a teasing note, "Well worth giving up a kingdom for." Vangie chuckled. "Perhaps half a kingdom..." > > As the lift slowly ascended to the floor above, she did a quick > > rummage through her own gold-and-black clutch purse. "Oh, good, I > > didn't forget my pills. It would be a bore to have to go down and > > fetch them." > > > > Vangie was aware that Marion suffered from occasional > migraines, and > > habitually carried a tube of little blue pills. > > And then the lift stopped. Abruptly. > > And suspended between two floors. "OH!" said Vangie. From margdean at erols.com Tue Dec 21 09:53:33 2004 From: margdean at erols.com (Margaret Dean) Date: Tue Dec 21 09:55:16 2004 Subject: [MaC] A mishap on the way to the party: Evangeline & Marion References: Message-ID: <41C838ED.9EE5978D@erols.com> "Pruehs, Ree M." wrote: > > >> "He'll still be a bit....said he'd take the stairs," Vangie said, > > >> stepping in. =Stubborn pride,= she thought, but not unfondly. She > > >> smiled at the younger woman. "How lovely you look!" > > >> > > >> She closed the grille again, and the elevator creaked upward. > > > > > > "And you look just like the Duchess of Windsor," Marion > > > replied, and added on a teasing note, "Well worth giving up a > > > kingdom for." > > Vangie chuckled. "Perhaps half a kingdom..." > > > > As the lift slowly ascended to the floor above, she did a quick > > > rummage through her own gold-and-black clutch purse. "Oh, good, I > > > didn't forget my pills. It would be a bore to have to go down and > > > fetch them." > > > > > > Vangie was aware that Marion suffered from occasional > > > migraines, and habitually carried a tube of little blue pills. > > > > And then the lift stopped. Abruptly. > > > > And suspended between two floors. > > "OH!" said Vangie. "Drat!" said Marion, a bit more strongly. --Margaret Dean From rpruehs at Itctransco.com Tue Dec 21 09:58:40 2004 From: rpruehs at Itctransco.com (Pruehs, Ree M.) Date: Tue Dec 21 09:59:25 2004 Subject: [MaC] A mishap on the way to the party: Evangeline & Marion Message-ID: > > > >> "He'll still be a bit....said he'd take the stairs," > Vangie said, > > > >> stepping in. =Stubborn pride,= she thought, but not unfondly. > > > >> She smiled at the younger woman. "How lovely you look!" > > > >> > > > >> She closed the grille again, and the elevator creaked upward. > > > > > > > > "And you look just like the Duchess of Windsor," Marion > replied, > > > > and added on a teasing note, "Well worth giving up a > kingdom for." > > > > Vangie chuckled. "Perhaps half a kingdom..." > > > > > > As the lift slowly ascended to the floor above, she did a quick > > > > rummage through her own gold-and-black clutch purse. > "Oh, good, I > > > > didn't forget my pills. It would be a bore to have to > go down and > > > > fetch them." > > > > > > > > Vangie was aware that Marion suffered from occasional > migraines, > > > > and habitually carried a tube of little blue pills. > > > > > > And then the lift stopped. Abruptly. > > > > > > And suspended between two floors. > > > > "OH!" said Vangie. > > "Drat!" said Marion, a bit more strongly. > "I don't suppose anyone will hear us if we call for help with the party going on and all," Vangie said. She reached down and slipped off one of her sensible shoes, hefting it thoughtfully in her hand. She began banging rhythmically on the grille, making as much racket as she could. > From faespinner at yahoo.com Tue Dec 21 11:05:51 2004 From: faespinner at yahoo.com (Tara Kunkel) Date: Tue Dec 21 11:07:23 2004 Subject: [MaC] Mingling at the Party: Braham & Marjorie? In-Reply-To: <00ca01c4e760$758391d0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <5.1.0.14.0.20041221105241.02904fc0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> At 08:24 AM 12/21/2004, you wrote: >When this group arrived, they found Hodges, the flats' maintenance man, >solemnly mixing drinks for Nicola Douglas and Majorie Higgins, the post >woman who lived on the ground floor, while Marty Fitzroy gazed >avariciously at Miss Diamond. Also present was the dark young American >from Flat 11, Braham Davis and - as usual in the background - Mrs Esme Fitzroy. > >Nicola brightened at the sight of new guests and, drink in hand, headed >over to greet the new arrivals. 'Thank God. One more minute with that >awful Fitzroy and I would have screamed,' she thought. > >"Mr. and Mrs. Skeffington-Nottle!" she said warmly. "How delightful to see >you. Come, have a drink!" > >James smiled at this point, more to himself than anything else. > >"Greetings to you, Miss Douglas." James said pleasantly, turning the >smile from himself, to her. He stepped away from the Skeffington-Nottles >and moved into the room, his hazel eyes looking around at the gathered guests. > >Lucinda moved forward to greet Nicola. "What a lovely dress!" she said >warmly. "Did you buy it in New York? You must have done - all our shops >are quite bare now ... " > >Oswald, in a practised manoeuvre, moved towards Marty Fitzroy. > >"Do tell," he said, "how are you finding the raids are affecting audience >figures?" As guests began to separate into groups and begin to mingle, Braham was forced to make a decision. He could take up a position holding up a wall and watch, as he often did these days or he could try to spark a conversation with someone. While observation has served him well up to the this point, it was Christmas. Perhaps it was time to stop studying from afar and actually begin to become part of the world he had entered into. "Miss Higgins, isn't it?" he said to Marjorie as he came up beside her. A comfortable distance remained between them as he continued on. "I'm Braham Davis. I don't believe we have had a chance to meet." His confidence seemed to stop just short of egotistical. From margdean at erols.com Tue Dec 21 11:14:31 2004 From: margdean at erols.com (Margaret Dean) Date: Tue Dec 21 11:16:11 2004 Subject: [MaC] A mishap on the way to the party: Evangeline & Marion References: Message-ID: <41C84BE7.2D0202DD@erols.com> "Pruehs, Ree M." wrote: > > > > > As the lift slowly ascended to the floor above, she did a quick > > > > > rummage through her own gold-and-black clutch purse. "Oh, good, > > > > > I didn't forget my pills. It would be a bore to have to go > > > > > down and > > > > > fetch them." > > > > > > > > > > Vangie was aware that Marion suffered from occasional > > > > > migraines, and habitually carried a tube of little blue > > > > > pills. > > > > > > > > And then the lift stopped. Abruptly. > > > > > > > > And suspended between two floors. > > > > > > "OH!" said Vangie. > > > > "Drat!" said Marion, a bit more strongly. > > > "I don't suppose anyone will hear us if we call for help with the party > going on and all," Vangie said. She reached down and slipped off one of > her sensible shoes, hefting it thoughtfully in her hand. She began > banging rhythmically on the grille, making as much racket as she could. "With everyone going up to the penthouse for the party, someone should notice pretty soon that the lift is out of order," Marion said hopefully. --Margaret Dean From kcunningham40 at comcast.net Tue Dec 21 11:16:40 2004 From: kcunningham40 at comcast.net (Katie Fulton) Date: Tue Dec 21 11:17:41 2004 Subject: [MaC] Richard at the Party Message-ID: <015f01c4e778$766d41a0$2200000a@FrontDesk> Richard, of course, was fashionably late. He was beginning to push the evelope on what was still considered proper, though, on the delicate balance between fashion and tardiness. He was dressed a grey jacket that seemed just a smidge too small. Given the lack of tailors and material at the moment, that could be excused... After all, he had been gone from his appartment for some time, and it was sensible for men to put on a few pounds after their early twenties. Though he had only been back a few weeks, he had quickly installed his face at any social occassion, especially if it involved alcohol. He had even tossed off a few soirees of his own, revealing a healthy store of brandy and wine. He poured himself a drink, and appeared to be surveying the scene before breaking into it... [Was offline all of yesterday, so I'll catch up with him talking to someone, unless someone wants to tag him first] From Mrfury28 at aol.com Tue Dec 21 11:16:48 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Tue Dec 21 11:17:49 2004 Subject: [MaC] At the Fitzroys: More guests arrive Message-ID: "I'd... like.. a gin and tonic if you please, Mr. Hodges," Marjorie answered. "Been a while since I could afford the nice stuff, if you know what I mean," she grinned at the maintenance man. "Certainly, my dear girl." Hodges gave her a smile. "To a happy and healthy holiday." He said as he handed her the drink. -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041221/8deaa959/attachment.htm From rpruehs at Itctransco.com Tue Dec 21 11:19:00 2004 From: rpruehs at Itctransco.com (Pruehs, Ree M.) Date: Tue Dec 21 11:19:40 2004 Subject: [MaC] A mishap on the way to the party: Evangeline & Marion Message-ID: > > > > > > As the lift slowly ascended to the floor above, she did a > > > > > > quick rummage through her own gold-and-black clutch purse. > > > > > > "Oh, good, I didn't forget my pills. It would be a bore to > > > > > > have to go down and fetch them." > > > > > > > > > > > > Vangie was aware that Marion suffered from occasional > > > > > > migraines, and habitually carried a tube of little > blue pills. > > > > > > > > > > And then the lift stopped. Abruptly. > > > > > > > > > > And suspended between two floors. > > > > > > > > "OH!" said Vangie. > > > > > > "Drat!" said Marion, a bit more strongly. > > > > > "I don't suppose anyone will hear us if we call for help with the > > party going on and all," Vangie said. She reached down and > slipped off > > one of her sensible shoes, hefting it thoughtfully in her hand. She > > began banging rhythmically on the grille, making as much > racket as she > > could. > > "With everyone going up to the penthouse for the party, > someone should notice pretty soon that the lift is out of > order," Marion said hopefully. "Always assuming," Vangie replied, "that all the attendees aren't already =attending= the party." Under her breath she cursed the inadequacy of the clutch purse contents as she continued to bang on the grille. > > > > --Margaret Dean > > > _______________________________________________ > murder_at_christmas mailing list > murder_at_christmas@gamera.cc > http://gamera.cc/mailman/listinfo/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc > From Mrfury28 at aol.com Tue Dec 21 11:32:23 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Tue Dec 21 11:33:26 2004 Subject: [MaC] Richard at the Party Message-ID: Richard poured himself a drink, and appeared to be surveying the scene before breaking into it... "Please sir, allow me." Hodges smiled from across the makeshift bar at Richard. "I am the hired help tonight afterall. What can I get you?" -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041221/03b61a35/attachment.htm From kcunningham40 at comcast.net Tue Dec 21 11:49:44 2004 From: kcunningham40 at comcast.net (Katie Fulton) Date: Tue Dec 21 11:50:46 2004 Subject: [MaC] Richard at the Party References: Message-ID: <01cd01c4e77d$14e00350$2200000a@FrontDesk> Richard poured himself a drink, and appeared to be surveying the scene before breaking into it... "Please sir, allow me." Hodges smiled from across the makeshift bar at Richard. "I am the hired help tonight afterall. What can I get you?" "Ah!" Richard's face broke out into a boyish grin that was just beginning to lose its baby fat. "A brandy, thanks! And are there any of those cheese concoctions? They're a miracle, really..." Of course, they were only a small part cheese, and the rest powdered milk and oil, but to a war-embattled tongue it was a bit of artificial heaven. From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Tue Dec 21 11:51:10 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Tue Dec 21 11:52:17 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, Pamela, Michael & Philip In-Reply-To: <004801c4e762$ca76c890$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> Message-ID: <00ab01c4e77d$48e17580$96f1fea9@BriansPC> >> "Excuse me," said Nola. "I look a fright - I'll go and powder my >> nose." >> >> Nothing could, in fact, have been further from the truth - >> she looked radiant. But she slipped away down the corridor >> towards the bathroom. >> >> Barowenski shrugged. >> >> "She is wishing to make an entrance," he said. "She is a star." Philip gazed at the retreating form of Nola Diamond for a moment, then shrugged. "Not too good for the likes of us, one hopes," he said rather flatly. Turning to the others, he smiled and greeted them in turn. "Ladies..." (with a polite half-bow) "Mr. Barowenski..." (the same) "Sir." (This to Group Capt. Coldsmith-Briggs, accompanied by a crisp salute, marred only by the disfigurement of his saluting hand.) >> He indicated the stairs. "We should go up, perhaps. Most >> are here, I think." > > "Absolutely, Mr. Barowenski." > > "Just a moment, Mum; I'll be right after," Pamela said, > turning toward Philip. "Pilot Officer Powell, isn't it? > Pamela Hutchinson, occasionally of the Women's Auxiliary. > Won't you take me in, sir?" "I would be delighted, Miss Hutchinson," Philip said with a wan, but apparently genuine, smile. Then, after a moment, something Great-Aunt Evangeline had said about the flat's residents trickled through the back of his mind, and he gave a small but visible start. "Oh, it's *Lady* Hutchinson, isn't it? I *do* beg your pardon, ma'am. But I would still be honored to see you in, if you'll permit me." From Mrfury28 at aol.com Tue Dec 21 11:59:12 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Tue Dec 21 12:00:09 2004 Subject: [MaC] Richard at the Party Message-ID: <1d8.3306308b.2ef9b060@aol.com> "Ah!" Richard's face broke out into a boyish grin that was just beginning to lose its baby fat. "A brandy, thanks! And are there any of those cheese concoctions? They're a miracle, really..." Of course, they were only a small part cheese, and the rest powdered milk and oil, but to a war-embattled tongue it was a bit of artificial heaven. "I'm not sure about that. You would have to ask Mrs. Fitzroy." ~I hope Fitzroy doesn't expect me to gimp around with an hors d'oerves silver platter!~ Hodges thought as he poured the brandy. "I'm not sure we've met, sir. Graydon Hodges, I'm in charge of maintaining this old building." -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041221/c0d67e9c/attachment.htm From kcunningham40 at comcast.net Tue Dec 21 12:08:48 2004 From: kcunningham40 at comcast.net (Katie Fulton) Date: Tue Dec 21 12:10:17 2004 Subject: [MaC] Richard at the Party References: <1d8.3306308b.2ef9b060@aol.com> Message-ID: <01eb01c4e77f$cfecec10$2200000a@FrontDesk> "I'm not sure about that. You would have to ask Mrs. Fitzroy." ~I hope Fitzroy doesn't expect me to gimp around with an hors d'oerves silver platter!~ Hodges thought as he poured the brandy. "I'm not sure we've met, sir. Graydon Hodges, I'm in charge of maintaining this old building." "Ah!" Richard snapped his fingers. "Father told me that, I think... I'm sorry, I was a little vague while he was telling me about the family flat. Afraid I was trying to guess where he was stowing away all his secret caches. I'm Richard." He stuck out his hand. "Lord Richard Benwick. Flat 5." From Mrfury28 at aol.com Tue Dec 21 12:59:16 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Tue Dec 21 13:06:24 2004 Subject: [MaC] Richard at the Party Message-ID: "Ah!" Richard snapped his fingers. "Father told me that, I think... I'm sorry, I was a little vague while he was telling me about the family flat. Afraid I was trying to guess where he was stowing away all his secret caches. I'm Richard." He stuck out his hand. "Lord Richard Benwick. Flat 5." "My pleasure, sir. Your father was very gracious when he stayed here. I hope that you find the accomodations to your liking? Everything in working order?" Hodges inquired pleasantly. Such a polite young man! -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041221/4ec6fecc/attachment.htm From kcunningham40 at comcast.net Tue Dec 21 13:12:32 2004 From: kcunningham40 at comcast.net (Katie Fulton) Date: Tue Dec 21 13:13:32 2004 Subject: [MaC] Richard at the Party References: Message-ID: <021001c4e788$a488be10$2200000a@FrontDesk> "My pleasure, sir. Your father was very gracious when he stayed here. I hope that you find the accomodations to your liking? Everything in working order?" Hodges inquired pleasantly. Such a polite young man! "Absolutely wonderful." Richard's hand combed through his mess of curls, slightly less kempt due to the shortages. "I think I've sniffed father out of cigars and liquor-- As a matter of fact, isn't it customary to give one's landlord a bit of a gift at the holidays? I have some sherry that looks like it would suit you perfectly." From Mrfury28 at aol.com Tue Dec 21 13:17:11 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Tue Dec 21 13:18:10 2004 Subject: [MaC] Richard at the Party Message-ID: <55.69035b68.2ef9c2a7@aol.com> "Absolutely wonderful." Richard's hand combed through his mess of curls, slightly less kempt due to the shortages. "I think I've sniffed father out of cigars and liquor-- As a matter of fact, isn't it customary to give one's landlord a bit of a gift at the holidays? I have some sherry that looks like it would suit you perfectly." "Ah, well I'm not the landlord you see." Hodges replied with a twinkle in his eye. "Just the repairman. But its rude to refuse such a gift. Happy Christmas, sir." -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041221/528e2599/attachment.htm From dorothea at textartisan.com Tue Dec 21 13:20:43 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Tue Dec 21 13:23:33 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, Pamela, Michael & Philip Message-ID: <41C8697B.20802@textartisan.com> (Trying again... apologies if this double-posts) > "I would be delighted, Miss Hutchinson," Philip said with a wan, but > apparently genuine, smile. Then, after a moment, something Great-Aunt > Evangeline had said about the flat's residents trickled through the back of > his mind, and he gave a small but visible start. "Oh, it's *Lady* > Hutchinson, isn't it? I *do* beg your pardon, ma'am. But I would still be > honored to see you in, if you'll permit me." "Just Lady Pamela, but please don't bother; Pamela will do nicely." She took his injured arm, careful to keep her touch light, but otherwise treating it quite as an ordinary limb. "My friends call me Pam, though generally not at parties." As they mounted the first steps, an unearthly but fortunately rather muffled din echoed from somewhere behind them. "What on earth?" exclaimed Pamela, letting go of Philip's arm and stopping to listen. "It sounds like -- it's coming from the lift, I think; wasn't Hodges working on it earlier? Oh, dear, I hope --" And she hastened toward the lift doors, not heeding whether Philip or anyone else followed. From rpruehs at Itctransco.com Tue Dec 21 13:32:34 2004 From: rpruehs at Itctransco.com (Pruehs, Ree M.) Date: Tue Dec 21 13:33:18 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, Pamela, Michael & Philip & Ladies in Lift Message-ID: > (Trying again... apologies if this double-posts) > > > "I would be delighted, Miss Hutchinson," Philip said with a > wan, but > > apparently genuine, smile. Then, after a moment, something > Great-Aunt > > Evangeline had said about the flat's residents trickled through the > > back of his mind, and he gave a small but visible start. "Oh, it's > > *Lady* Hutchinson, isn't it? I *do* beg your pardon, ma'am. But I > > would still be honored to see you in, if you'll permit me." > > "Just Lady Pamela, but please don't bother; Pamela will > do nicely." She > took his injured arm, careful to keep her touch light, but otherwise > treating it quite as an ordinary limb. "My friends call me > Pam, though > generally not at parties." > > As they mounted the first steps, an unearthly but > fortunately rather > muffled din echoed from somewhere behind them. "What on earth?" > exclaimed Pamela, letting go of Philip's arm and stopping to > listen. "It sounds like -- it's coming from the lift, I > think; wasn't Hodges working on it earlier? Oh, dear, I hope > --" And she hastened toward the lift > doors, not heeding whether Philip or anyone else followed. There was certainly a loud rhythmic banging noise coming from the direction of the lift. > From kcunningham40 at comcast.net Tue Dec 21 13:33:10 2004 From: kcunningham40 at comcast.net (Katie Fulton) Date: Tue Dec 21 13:34:08 2004 Subject: [MaC] Richard at the Party References: <55.69035b68.2ef9c2a7@aol.com> Message-ID: <023401c4e78b$86d98810$2200000a@FrontDesk> "Ah, well I'm not the landlord you see." Hodges replied with a twinkle in his eye. "Just the repairman. But its rude to refuse such a gift. Happy Christmas, sir." "I'd rather have a happy repairman," winked Richard. "After all, I have a lease with the landlord, but not with you. It's important for even a Lord to remember who actually gets things done." He held up his glass. "Happy Christmas to you as well. You should come to one of my shin-digs... where you don't have to serve." From dorothea at textartisan.com Tue Dec 21 13:42:36 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Tue Dec 21 13:45:26 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, Pamela, Michael & Philip & Ladies in Lift In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: <41C86E9C.9030306@textartisan.com> > There was certainly a loud rhythmic banging noise coming from the > direction of the lift. Pamela could not immediately determine how to force the gates open. She knelt, lowering her head nearly to the floor, and shouted "Halloo! Is anyone down there? Anyone hurt?" She felt an immense fool, but if the lift *had* failed badly... >> From rpruehs at Itctransco.com Tue Dec 21 13:48:38 2004 From: rpruehs at Itctransco.com (Pruehs, Ree M.) Date: Tue Dec 21 13:49:22 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, Pamela, Michael & Philip& Ladies in Lift Message-ID: > -----Original Message----- > From: murder_at_christmas-bounces@gamera.cc > [mailto:murder_at_christmas-bounces@gamera.cc] On Behalf Of > Dorothea Salo > Sent: Tuesday, December 21, 2004 1:43 PM > To: murder_at_christmas@gamera.cc > Subject: Re: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, > Pamela, Michael & Philip& Ladies in Lift > > > > There was certainly a loud rhythmic banging noise coming from the > > direction of the lift. > > Pamela could not immediately determine how to force the > gates open. She > knelt, lowering her head nearly to the floor, and shouted "Halloo! Is > anyone down there? Anyone hurt?" She felt an immense fool, but if the > lift *had* failed badly... "Halloo!" came the prompt reply back. "It's Mrs Evans and Miss Mauberly, dear. No one hurt, but we do seem to be stuck between floors." > >> > > _______________________________________________ > murder_at_christmas mailing list > murder_at_christmas@gamera.cc > http://gamera.cc/mailman/listinfo/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc > From dorothea at textartisan.com Tue Dec 21 14:05:24 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Tue Dec 21 14:08:07 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, Pamela, Michael & Philip& Ladies in Lift In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: <41C873F4.6030003@textartisan.com> > "Halloo!" came the prompt reply back. "It's Mrs Evans and Miss Mauberly, > dear. No one hurt, but we do seem to be stuck between floors." "All right -- I'll go for Hodges, then! We'll have you out of there safe and sound, don't worry!" Pamela started toward the stairs, then stopped. Had Hodges gone to the party, or was he moping by himself in Number One flat? She wouldn't put it past Marty Fitzroy not to have invited him. But the delay, the delay if she ran all the way downstairs and Hodges wasn't there... She decided quickly, and hurried back to the penthouse stairs, looking for someone who could carry word to the party while she ran downstairs. From hmace at elfworks.com Tue Dec 21 14:14:00 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Tue Dec 21 14:14:58 2004 Subject: [MaC] Mingling at the Party: Braham & Marjorie? In-Reply-To: <5.1.0.14.0.20041221105241.02904fc0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> References: <5.1.0.14.0.20041221105241.02904fc0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <41C875F8.6030606@elfworks.com> > > As guests began to separate into groups and begin to mingle, Braham was > forced to make a decision. He could take up a position holding up a wall > and watch, as he often did these days or he could try to spark a > conversation with someone. While observation has served him well up to > the this point, it was Christmas. Perhaps it was time to stop studying > from afar and actually begin to become part of the world he had entered > into. > > "Miss Higgins, isn't it?" he said to Marjorie as he came up beside her. > A comfortable distance remained between them as he continued on. "I'm > Braham Davis. I don't believe we have had a chance to meet." His > confidence seemed to stop just short of egotistical. Lucky for Braham Marjorie seemed to possess a resilient sense of self. She smiled at Braham as he introduced himself. "We haven't met, but I know who you are, Mr. Davis. I'm your post woman!" she explained cheerfully. "You live in flat eleven, you're from the States, and you don't get out much. I... get out a lot. Mind if we sit down?" She looked over at a couch. "I'm 'fraid my feet are all worn out tonight." From rpruehs at Itctransco.com Tue Dec 21 14:15:23 2004 From: rpruehs at Itctransco.com (Pruehs, Ree M.) Date: Tue Dec 21 14:16:11 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, Pamela, Michael & Philip & Ladies in Lift Message-ID: > > "Halloo!" came the prompt reply back. "It's Mrs Evans and Miss > > Mauberly, dear. No one hurt, but we do seem to be stuck between > > floors." > > "All right -- I'll go for Hodges, then! We'll have you > out of there > safe and sound, don't worry!" "Thank you...." floated up from the trapped lift. > Pamela started toward the stairs, then stopped. Had > Hodges gone to the > party, or was he moping by himself in Number One flat? She > wouldn't put > it past Marty Fitzroy not to have invited him. But the delay, > the delay > if she ran all the way downstairs and Hodges wasn't there... > > She decided quickly, and hurried back to the penthouse > stairs, looking > for someone who could carry word to the party while she ran > downstairs. > > penthouse, I guess> > From faespinner at yahoo.com Tue Dec 21 14:40:57 2004 From: faespinner at yahoo.com (Tara Kunkel) Date: Tue Dec 21 14:42:19 2004 Subject: [MaC] Mingling at the Party: Braham & Marjorie In-Reply-To: <41C875F8.6030606@elfworks.com> References: <5.1.0.14.0.20041221105241.02904fc0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <5.1.0.14.0.20041221105241.02904fc0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <5.1.0.14.0.20041221143244.028628e0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> >Lucky for Braham Marjorie seemed to possess a resilient sense of >self. She smiled at Braham as he introduced himself. "We haven't >met, but I know who you are, Mr. Davis. I'm your post woman!" she >explained cheerfully. "You live in flat eleven, you're from the >States, and you don't get out much. I... get out a lot. Mind if >we sit down?" She looked over at a couch. "I'm 'fraid my feet >are all worn out tonight." Braham's eyes mirrored her cheerfulness. "By all means," he said gesturing for her to lead the way. "You're wrong you know," he said once they were seated. "I do get out. I just always try to be here whenever you are." His voice said teasingly. There was no hint of maliciousness in Braham. "Or I suppose it could just seem that way. I tend to only head out during the height of the day when I can clearly see where I am going. Not knowing the area very well has put me at a distinct disadvantage. Because of that I am probably tucked away safely in my flat when you leave in the morning and when you arrive home in the evening without any good excuse to stop down for a visit." From nowsounds at comcast.net Tue Dec 21 14:44:28 2004 From: nowsounds at comcast.net (Nowsounds) Date: Tue Dec 21 14:45:33 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, Pamela, Michael & Philip & Ladies in Lift References: Message-ID: <00d001c4e795$7c5c3ea0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> > Pamela started toward the stairs, then stopped. Had > Hodges gone to the > party, or was he moping by himself in Number One flat? She > wouldn't put > it past Marty Fitzroy not to have invited him. But the delay, > the delay > if she ran all the way downstairs and Hodges wasn't there... > > She decided quickly, and hurried back to the penthouse > stairs, looking > for someone who could carry word to the party while she ran > downstairs. Arabella had just arrived on the landing. She was saying something to the intense young pianist - something about a record she had heard the other day, a new recording of Liszt - when she saw her daughter. "Pamela, dear, what is it?" From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Tue Dec 21 14:48:02 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Tue Dec 21 14:49:23 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, Pamela, Michael & Philip In-Reply-To: <41C8697B.20802@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <00ca01c4e796$071a95f0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> > "Just Lady Pamela, but please don't bother; Pamela will > do nicely." She took his injured arm, careful to keep her touch > light, but otherwise treating it quite as an ordinary limb. After only the tiniest of hesitations, Philip extended his arm to let Pamela take it. Her touch seemed to cause him no discomfort, though she could feel the bandages along his wrist through the uniform. > "My friends call me Pam, though generally not at parties." "Then Pamela it shall be for the evening," he said with a smile. With his free hand, Philip gestured towards the stairs. "Shall we?" [Entering a party with a Countess' daughter on my arm...and quite a lovely one at that,] he thought to himself. [What would Mum and Dad make of that?] > As they mounted the first steps, an unearthly but > fortunately rather muffled din echoed from somewhere behind them. > "What on earth?" exclaimed Pamela, letting go of Philip's arm and > stopping to listen. "It sounds like -- it's coming from the lift, > I think; wasn't Hodges working on it earlier? Oh, dear, I hope > --" And she hastened toward the lift doors, not heeding whether > Philip or anyone else followed. Philip did indeed follow, with an expression of concern on his face. > Pamela could not immediately determine how to force the > gates open. She knelt, lowering her head nearly to the floor, and > shouted "Halloo! Is anyone down there? Anyone hurt?" > > "Halloo!" came the prompt reply back. "It's Mrs Evans and Miss > Mauberly, dear. No one hurt, but we do seem to be stuck between > floors." "Bother," Phillip muttered quietly. > "All right -- I'll go for Hodges, then! We'll have you out of there > safe and sound, don't worry!" > > Pamela started toward the stairs, then stopped. Had Hodges gone to > the party, or was he moping by himself in Number One flat? > > She decided quickly, and hurried back to the penthouse stairs, looking > for someone who could carry word to the party while she ran downstairs. Seeing her indecision, Philip spoke up. "I'll run down to Hodges' flat, La-- Pamela. If you'll forgive me for making you go in unescorted, could I suggest going upstairs to see if Hodges is at the party? One of us is bound to find him that way." Barring any immediate objections, Phillip began heading downstairs at a fast, but not reckless, pace. As he did, he called to the ladies in the lift, "Not to worry, ladies; I'm sure Hodges will sort it out in no time. Stay there," he added unnecessarily -- for really, where could they go? From dorothea at textartisan.com Tue Dec 21 14:49:29 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Tue Dec 21 14:52:17 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, Pamela, Michael & Philip & Ladies in Lift In-Reply-To: <00d001c4e795$7c5c3ea0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> References: <00d001c4e795$7c5c3ea0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> Message-ID: <41C87E49.2020206@textartisan.com> > Arabella had just arrived on the landing. She was saying something to > the intense young pianist - something about a record she had heard the > other day, a new recording of Liszt - when she saw her daughter. > "Pamela, dear, what is it?" "Mrs Evans and Miss Mauberly are trapped in the lift! I haven't seen Hodges, I mean to run downstairs to Number One -- but would you carry word to the penthouse, Mum, please? Hodges might be there, or someone else who can help." And with that, Pamela started downstairs. From nowsounds at comcast.net Tue Dec 21 14:55:48 2004 From: nowsounds at comcast.net (Nowsounds) Date: Tue Dec 21 14:56:53 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, Pamela, Michael & Philip& Ladies in Lift References: <00d001c4e795$7c5c3ea0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <41C87E49.2020206@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <00f901c4e797$115d4660$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> >> Arabella had just arrived on the landing. She was saying something to >> the intense young pianist - something about a record she had heard the >> other day, a new recording of Liszt - when she saw her daughter. "Pamela, >> dear, what is it?" > > "Mrs Evans and Miss Mauberly are trapped in the lift! I haven't seen > Hodges, I mean to run downstairs to Number One -- but would you carry word > to the penthouse, Mum, please? Hodges might be there, or someone else who > can help." > > And with that, Pamela started downstairs. "Oh, dear," Arabella said, and walked rather more quickly into the penthouse. Not wanting to alarm anyone, she looked around discreetly for Hodges, spying him serving drinks at the bar. She went over there and said, quietly but briskly, "Mr. Hodges, it seems as if Mrs. Evans and Miss Mauberly are trapped in the lift. I don't think they've been injured, but it is undoubtedly a disconcerting experience. Do you think you could find a way to release them?" From rpruehs at Itctransco.com Tue Dec 21 15:01:09 2004 From: rpruehs at Itctransco.com (Pruehs, Ree M.) Date: Tue Dec 21 15:01:58 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, Pamela, Michael & Philip Message-ID: > -----Original Message----- > From: murder_at_christmas-bounces@gamera.cc > [mailto:murder_at_christmas-bounces@gamera.cc] On Behalf Of > Brian Schoner > Sent: Tuesday, December 21, 2004 2:48 PM > To: murder_at_christmas@gamera.cc > Subject: RE: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, > Pamela, Michael & Philip > > > > "Just Lady Pamela, but please don't bother; Pamela will > > do nicely." She took his injured arm, careful to keep her touch > > light, but otherwise treating it quite as an ordinary limb. > > After only the tiniest of hesitations, Philip extended his > arm to let Pamela take it. Her touch seemed to cause him no > discomfort, though she could feel the bandages along his > wrist through the uniform. > > > "My friends call me Pam, though generally not at parties." > > "Then Pamela it shall be for the evening," he said with a > smile. With his free hand, Philip gestured towards the > stairs. "Shall we?" [Entering a party with a Countess' > daughter on my arm...and quite a lovely one at that,] he > thought to himself. [What would Mum and Dad make of that?] > > > As they mounted the first steps, an unearthly but > > fortunately rather muffled din echoed from somewhere behind them. > > "What on earth?" exclaimed Pamela, letting go of Philip's arm and > > stopping to listen. "It sounds like -- it's coming from the lift, > > I think; wasn't Hodges working on it earlier? Oh, dear, I hope > > --" And she hastened toward the lift doors, not heeding whether > > Philip or anyone else followed. > > Philip did indeed follow, with an expression of concern on his face. > > > Pamela could not immediately determine how to force the > gates open. > > She knelt, lowering her head nearly to the floor, and > shouted "Halloo! > > Is anyone down there? Anyone hurt?" > > > > "Halloo!" came the prompt reply back. "It's Mrs Evans and Miss > > Mauberly, dear. No one hurt, but we do seem to be stuck between > > floors." > > "Bother," Phillip muttered quietly. > > > "All right -- I'll go for Hodges, then! We'll have you out of there > > safe and sound, don't worry!" > > > > Pamela started toward the stairs, then stopped. Had Hodges > gone to the > > party, or was he moping by himself in Number One flat? > > > > She decided quickly, and hurried back to the penthouse > stairs, looking > > for someone who could carry word to the party while she ran > downstairs. > > Seeing her indecision, Philip spoke up. "I'll run down to > Hodges' flat, La-- Pamela. If you'll forgive me for making > you go in unescorted, could I suggest going upstairs to see > if Hodges is at the party? One of us is bound to find him that way." > > Barring any immediate objections, Phillip began heading > downstairs at a fast, but not reckless, pace. As he did, he > called to the ladies in the lift, "Not to worry, ladies; I'm > sure Hodges will sort it out in no time. Stay there," he > added unnecessarily -- for really, where could they go? In the lift, Vangie grumbled to Marion, "'Stay there.'" She sighed. "One for stating the obvious, our Philip..." From dorothea at textartisan.com Tue Dec 21 15:19:25 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Tue Dec 21 15:22:11 2004 Subject: [MaC] Outside Number One Flat: Pamela and Philip In-Reply-To: <00ca01c4e796$071a95f0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> References: <00ca01c4e796$071a95f0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Message-ID: <41C8854D.1000507@textartisan.com> > Barring any immediate objections, Phillip began heading downstairs at a > fast, but not reckless, pace. As he did, he called to the ladies in the > lift, "Not to worry, ladies; I'm sure Hodges will sort it out in no time. > Stay there," he added unnecessarily -- for really, where could they go? Pamela caught up with him just outside Number One flat, out of breath and limping rather. "Mum's gone to the Fitzroys' to look for help. Is he there?" From veazeyae at gmail.com Tue Dec 21 16:00:53 2004 From: veazeyae at gmail.com (Allen Veazey) Date: Tue Dec 21 16:01:54 2004 Subject: [MaC] At the Fitzroys: More guests arrive In-Reply-To: <41C8028D.3080606@mindspring.com> References: <96.1cfa2f7e.2ef8fa9b@aol.com> <41C7D3C1.3080509@elfworks.com> <41C8028D.3080606@mindspring.com> Message-ID: > James turned from his spot and gave a nod to the Flight Officer. "Good > eve, Officer Worthington. The, ah, skies in here are still not overly > crowded." he said, with a trace of a smile. "That's a relief," Warren replied, leaning a little. "I'm always worried about being late, considering." He looked around the room. "I must say, it's good to get out and about with other people. I've spent entirely too much time in my flat, staring at the walls." From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Tue Dec 21 16:01:04 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Tue Dec 21 16:02:14 2004 Subject: [MaC] Outside Number One Flat: Pamela and Philip In-Reply-To: <41C8854D.1000507@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <00d401c4e7a0$325aeda0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> > Pamela caught up with him just outside Number One flat, > out of breath and limping rather. As she approached, she had head Philip's loud knocking, and calls of, "Mr. Hodges, are you in? Mr. Hodges?" > "Mum's gone to the Fitzroys' to look for help. Is he there?" "Doesn't seem so. Let's hope he's at the party, or there's no telling where he might be. I suppose I could have a look at it, but I'd hate to touch the wrong thing at the wrong time..." He let the consequences of that thought go unspoken, turning instead to look at Pamela. "You needn't have come all the way down," he said, with mock disapproval. "A Lady can't make her entrance at a party appearing as though she's just...well...run up and down four flights of stairs." When there was still no answer at Hodges' flat, Philip sighed. "May as well head back up. Hopefully someone can turn up Hodges, or we'll need to move the party downstairs and pass cocktails to the ladies through the bars of the lift." From margdean at erols.com Tue Dec 21 16:21:48 2004 From: margdean at erols.com (Margaret Dean) Date: Tue Dec 21 16:23:28 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, Pamela, Michael & Philip References: Message-ID: <41C893EC.B67044D8@erols.com> "Pruehs, Ree M." wrote: > > > Pamela started toward the stairs, then stopped. Had Hodges > > > gone to the party, or was he moping by himself in Number One > > > flat? > > > > > > She decided quickly, and hurried back to the penthouse > > > stairs, looking for someone who could carry word to the > > > party while she ran downstairs. > > > > Seeing her indecision, Philip spoke up. "I'll run down to > > Hodges' flat, La-- Pamela. If you'll forgive me for making > > you go in unescorted, could I suggest going upstairs to see > > if Hodges is at the party? One of us is bound to find him that > > way." > > > > Barring any immediate objections, Phillip began heading > > downstairs at a fast, but not reckless, pace. As he did, he > > called to the ladies in the lift, "Not to worry, ladies; I'm > > sure Hodges will sort it out in no time. Stay there," he > > added unnecessarily -- for really, where could they go? > > In the lift, Vangie grumbled to Marion, "'Stay there.'" She sighed. "One > for stating the obvious, our Philip..." Marion just rolled her eyes, sufficiently relieved by the fact that =someone= was taking action. --Margaret Dean From dorothea at textartisan.com Tue Dec 21 16:27:54 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Tue Dec 21 16:30:49 2004 Subject: [MaC] Outside Number One Flat: Pamela and Philip In-Reply-To: <00d401c4e7a0$325aeda0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> References: <00d401c4e7a0$325aeda0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Message-ID: <41C8955A.1030202@textartisan.com> > "You needn't have come all the way down," he said, with mock disapproval. "A > Lady can't make her entrance at a party appearing as though she's > just...well...run up and down four flights of stairs." Pamela rolled her eyes. "The Actresses make entrances at parties. I just go to them, myself." > When there was still no answer at Hodges' flat, Philip sighed. "May as well > head back up. Hopefully someone can turn up Hodges, or we'll need to move > the party downstairs and pass cocktails to the ladies through the bars of > the lift." "I rather don't think the grand piano would fit!" Pamela chuckled, turning toward the stairwell. "Heigh-ho, five flights of stairs... and I turned my ankle on the way down, just my luck. I hope you won't mind if I go a bit slowly." From Mrfury28 at aol.com Tue Dec 21 16:45:13 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Tue Dec 21 16:46:15 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, Pamela, Michael & Philip& Ladie... Message-ID: <15.3aa15454.2ef9f369@aol.com> "Mr. Hodges, it seems as if Mrs. Evans and Miss Mauberly are trapped in the lift. I don't think they've been injured, but it is undoubtedly a disconcerting experience. Do you think you could find a way to release them?" "Oh bother! Its this old machinery, and its very difficult nowadays to get proper parts!" Hodges exclaimed at the news. "Excuse me, can someone please tell Mr. Fitzroy I'll have to leave off my serving duties. This matter is rather more important. Excuse me." Hodges made to leave the apartment to head downstairs to his flat, to retrieve his tools. -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041221/6954d20a/attachment.htm From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Tue Dec 21 16:49:53 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Tue Dec 21 16:51:02 2004 Subject: [MaC] Outside Number One Flat: Pamela and Philip In-Reply-To: <41C8955A.1030202@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <00da01c4e7a7$03cd7e10$96f1fea9@BriansPC> > > "You needn't have come all the way down," he said, with mock > > disapproval. "A Lady can't make her entrance at a party > > appearing as though she's just...well...run up and down four > > flights of stairs." > > Pamela rolled her eyes. "The Actresses make entrances > at parties. I just go to them, myself." Sensing, or thinking he sensed, a touch of vitriol in that reply, Philip decided to let it go unanswered. > "Heigh-ho, five flights of stairs... and I turned my ankle on > the way down, just my luck. I hope you won't mind if I go a > bit slowly." "No trouble at all; take take as much time as you need, stop when you like, and let me know if you'd like an arm or shoulder to lean on. It's nothing serious, is it? We can probably get the service lift down, if you feel like risking it." "But no, I'm in no hurry. I'm really just attending this party on Aunt Evangeline's coat-tails, as it were. Though if the other neighbours are even half as charming as yourself, I may wind up enjoying myself after all." He smiled, though it didn't seem quite to reach his eyes, and offered Pamela his arm once more for the trip back upstairs. From kcunningham40 at comcast.net Tue Dec 21 16:54:12 2004 From: kcunningham40 at comcast.net (Katie Fulton) Date: Tue Dec 21 16:55:12 2004 Subject: [MaC] Richard ISO the host References: <15.3aa15454.2ef9f369@aol.com> Message-ID: <02db01c4e7a7$9f4943b0$2200000a@FrontDesk> "Mr. Hodges, it seems as if Mrs. Evans and Miss Mauberly are trapped in the lift. I don't think they've been injured, but it is undoubtedly a disconcerting experience. Do you think you could find a way to release them?" "Oh bother! Its this old machinery, and its very difficult nowadays to get proper parts!" Hodges exclaimed at the news. "Excuse me, can someone please tell Mr. Fitzroy I'll have to leave off my serving duties. This matter is rather more important. Excuse me." Hodges made to leave the apartment to head downstairs to his flat, to retrieve his tools. This left Richard holding his glass, somewhat dumbly. He smiled, but no one was there to be charmed by it. "Right... Suppose that's me, then..." And he wandered off to find his host... [Tag Mr. Fitzroy.] From rmpruehs at cac.net Tue Dec 21 17:00:48 2004 From: rmpruehs at cac.net (Ree Moorhead Pruehs) Date: Tue Dec 21 17:02:03 2004 Subject: [MaC] Outside Number One Flat: Pamela and Philip In-Reply-To: <00da01c4e7a7$03cd7e10$96f1fea9@BriansPC> References: <41C8955A.1030202@textartisan.com> <00da01c4e7a7$03cd7e10$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Message-ID: <6.2.0.14.0.20041221170006.0452ea38@mail.cac.net> At 04:49 PM 12/21/2004, you wrote: > > > "You needn't have come all the way down," he said, with mock > > > disapproval. "A Lady can't make her entrance at a party > > > appearing as though she's just...well...run up and down four > > > flights of stairs." > > > > Pamela rolled her eyes. "The Actresses make entrances > > at parties. I just go to them, myself." > >Sensing, or thinking he sensed, a touch of vitriol in that reply, Philip >decided to let it go unanswered. > > > "Heigh-ho, five flights of stairs... and I turned my ankle on > > the way down, just my luck. I hope you won't mind if I go a > > bit slowly." > >"No trouble at all; take take as much time as you need, stop when you like, >and let me know if you'd like an arm or shoulder to lean on. It's nothing >serious, is it? We can probably get the service lift down, if you feel like >risking it." > >"But no, I'm in no hurry. I'm really just attending this party on Aunt >Evangeline's coat-tails, as it were. Though if the other neighbours are even >half as charming as yourself, I may wind up enjoying myself after all." He >smiled, though it didn't seem quite to reach his eyes, and offered Pamela >his arm once more for the trip back upstairs. > >down> [ooc: Does he call out to them? They're in the lift between floors and can hear but not see. AFAIK.] From rmpruehs at cac.net Tue Dec 21 17:03:47 2004 From: rmpruehs at cac.net (Ree Moorhead Pruehs) Date: Tue Dec 21 17:05:07 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, Pamela, Michael & Philip In-Reply-To: <41C893EC.B67044D8@erols.com> References: <41C893EC.B67044D8@erols.com> Message-ID: <6.2.0.14.0.20041221165813.04514008@mail.cac.net> At 04:21 PM 12/21/2004, you wrote: >"Pruehs, Ree M." wrote: > > > > > Pamela started toward the stairs, then stopped. Had Hodges > > > > gone to the party, or was he moping by himself in Number One > > > > flat? > > > > > > > > She decided quickly, and hurried back to the penthouse > > > > stairs, looking for someone who could carry word to the > > > > party while she ran downstairs. > > > > > > Seeing her indecision, Philip spoke up. "I'll run down to > > > Hodges' flat, La-- Pamela. If you'll forgive me for making > > > you go in unescorted, could I suggest going upstairs to see > > > if Hodges is at the party? One of us is bound to find him that > > > way." > > > > > > Barring any immediate objections, Phillip began heading > > > downstairs at a fast, but not reckless, pace. As he did, he > > > called to the ladies in the lift, "Not to worry, ladies; I'm > > > sure Hodges will sort it out in no time. Stay there," he > > > added unnecessarily -- for really, where could they go? > > > > In the lift, Vangie grumbled to Marion, "'Stay there.'" She sighed. "One > > for stating the obvious, our Philip..." > >Marion just rolled her eyes, sufficiently relieved by the fact >that =someone= was taking action. "Well, at least, my dear, he =is= a man of action," Vangie said with a sigh, and slipped her shoe back on. From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Tue Dec 21 17:04:27 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Tue Dec 21 17:05:35 2004 Subject: [MaC] Outside Number One Flat: Pamela and Philip In-Reply-To: <6.2.0.14.0.20041221170006.0452ea38@mail.cac.net> Message-ID: <00db01c4e7a9$0d25d910$96f1fea9@BriansPC> > [ooc: Does he call out to them? They're in the lift between > floors and can hear but not see. AFAIK.] [OOC: My impression was that they are stuck between floors, but since the lift cages are grill-like and not solid, they could certainly see (and be seen) out. Mel?] From hmace at elfworks.com Tue Dec 21 17:50:16 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Tue Dec 21 17:51:11 2004 Subject: [MaC] Mingling at the Party: Braham & Marjorie In-Reply-To: <5.1.0.14.0.20041221143244.028628e0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> References: <5.1.0.14.0.20041221105241.02904fc0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <5.1.0.14.0.20041221105241.02904fc0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <5.1.0.14.0.20041221143244.028628e0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <41C8A8A8.4010509@elfworks.com> > > Braham's eyes mirrored her cheerfulness. "By all means," he said > gesturing for her to lead the way. > > "You're wrong you know," he said once they were seated. "I do get out. I > just always try to be here whenever you are." His voice said teasingly. > There was no hint of maliciousness in Braham. "Or I suppose it could > just seem that way. I tend to only head out during the height of the day > when I can clearly see where I am going. Not knowing the area very well > has put me at a distinct disadvantage. Because of that I am probably > tucked away safely in my flat when you leave in the morning and when you > arrive home in the evening without any good excuse to stop down for a > visit." "Silly man!" Marjorie exclaimed. "All you had to do was come by and ask if there was mail for you. I'd've talked to you. And if you ever need someone to go out with out you and take you somewhere all you have to do is ask." Marjorie nodded to Braham. "I know this area like the back of my hand, I do. And I can show you the safe ways around, too!" At that point Hodges left the room quickly. Marjorie looked up at that with a bit of surprise. "I hope nothin's wrong," she said with a bit of concern. From dorothea at textartisan.com Tue Dec 21 19:14:48 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Tue Dec 21 19:17:38 2004 Subject: [MaC] Outside Number One Flat: Pamela and Philip In-Reply-To: <00da01c4e7a7$03cd7e10$96f1fea9@BriansPC> References: <00da01c4e7a7$03cd7e10$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Message-ID: <41C8BC78.1020400@textartisan.com> > "No trouble at all; take take as much time as you need, stop when you like, > and let me know if you'd like an arm or shoulder to lean on. It's nothing > serious, is it? We can probably get the service lift down, if you feel like > risking it." "No, no; it's not even swelling up. No dancing for Pamela tonight, but dancing wasn't in the plans so far as I heard." > "But no, I'm in no hurry. I'm really just attending this party on Aunt > Evangeline's coat-tails, as it were. Though if the other neighbours are even > half as charming as yourself, I may wind up enjoying myself after all." He > smiled, though it didn't seem quite to reach his eyes, and offered Pamela > his arm once more for the trip back upstairs. "You're very kind, sir," Pamela said, in a wry voice that took in both the paucity of her native charms and her current slight disarrangement. Warmth suffused her voice again as she went on, "But I do hope you enjoy yourself, in spite of everything. Mum and Mrs Evans are friends, so I know you've been there, and yet I only meet you tonight. It does seem a shame, you being cooped up so." They took the stairs at a deliberate pace, Pamela managing well. She asked to stop briefly on the third landing. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Tue Dec 21 19:28:30 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Tue Dec 21 19:29:14 2004 Subject: [MaC] At the party - Richard, Marty, Nicola, the Skeffington-Nottles References: <15.3aa15454.2ef9f369@aol.com> <02db01c4e7a7$9f4943b0$2200000a@FrontDesk> Message-ID: <00eb01c4e7bd$2998c710$0202a8c0@Behemoth> > "Mr. Hodges, it seems as if Mrs. Evans and Miss Mauberly are trapped in > the > lift. I don't think they've been injured, but it is undoubtedly a > disconcerting > experience. Do you think you could find a way to release them?" > > "Oh bother! Its this old machinery, and its very difficult nowadays to > get > proper parts!" Hodges exclaimed at the news. "Excuse me, can someone > please > tell Mr. Fitzroy I'll have to leave off my serving duties. This matter is > rather more important. Excuse me." > > Hodges made to leave the apartment to head downstairs to his flat, to > retrieve his tools. > > This left Richard holding his glass, somewhat dumbly. He smiled, but no > one > was there to be charmed by it. > > "Right... Suppose that's me, then..." > > And he wandered off to find his host... > Marty Fitzroy was hovering - a difficult thing for a man of his bulk to manage successfully. It was clear that the focus of his attention was Miss Nicola Douglas, who he was watching almost greedily. At Richard's approach he nodded, as though distracted by other things and then - as though struck by a brilliant idea - he said, "Have you met Miss Douglas yet? Miss Nicola Douglas? Would you like me to introduce you?" From kcunningham40 at comcast.net Tue Dec 21 19:32:09 2004 From: kcunningham40 at comcast.net (Katie Fulton) Date: Tue Dec 21 19:33:36 2004 Subject: [MaC] At the party - Richard, Marty, Nicola, the Skeffington-Nottles References: <15.3aa15454.2ef9f369@aol.com><02db01c4e7a7$9f4943b0$2200000a@FrontDesk> <00eb01c4e7bd$2998c710$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <003301c4e7bd$ad752fb0$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> Marty Fitzroy was hovering - a difficult thing for a man of his bulk to manage successfully. It was clear that the focus of his attention was Miss Nicola Douglas, who he was watching almost greedily. At Richard's approach he nodded, as though distracted by other things and then - as though struck by a brilliant idea - he said, "Have you met Miss Douglas yet? Miss Nicola Douglas? Would you like me to introduce you?" "Of course, of course..." He offered his hand, and a slightly crooked smile to Miss Douglas. "Charmed, really. But I'm afraid, old boy, your wine steward is being tugged away for a moment. Something about the elevator shaft, trapped guests, you know how it is. Probably got shook in the last raid." From jjkatalenic at yahoo.com Tue Dec 21 21:24:57 2004 From: jjkatalenic at yahoo.com (Jonathan Katalenic) Date: Tue Dec 21 21:24:59 2004 Subject: [MaC] At the party - Richard, Marty, Nicola, the Skeffington-Nottles In-Reply-To: <003301c4e7bd$ad752fb0$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> Message-ID: <20041222022457.59987.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com> Mr. and Mrs. Skeffington-Nottle!" she said warmly. "How delightful to see you. Come, have a drink!" James smiled at this point, more to himself than anything else. "Greetings to you, Miss Douglas." James said pleasantly, turning the smile from himself, to her. He stepped away from the Skeffington-Nottles and moved into the room, his hazel eyes looking around at the gathered guests. Lucinda moved forward to greet Nicola. "What a lovely dress!" she said warmly. "Did you buy it in New York? You must have done - all our shops are quite bare now ... " "Would you even believe that I found it just this morning?" Nicola asked, pressing a hand to her velvet-draped collarbone. "I was out and about and just happened to duck into this little dressmaker's shop and it was there- of course, as soon as I saw it, I knew it was just perfect for the party. Can you even imagine? Why, it's like it was meant to be!" She took a moment to appraise Lucinda and said, "But darling, you look absolutely radiant this evening and-" she stopped to stare at Lucinda's throat. "Oh, my, I know diamonds and I know I've NEVER seen that on you before! Good heavens, Lucinda, it's glorious!" Oswald, in a practised manoeuvre, moved towards Marty Fitzroy. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Marty Fitzroy was hovering - a difficult thing for a man of his bulk to manage successfully. It was clear that the focus of his attention was Miss Nicola Douglas, who he was watching almost greedily. At Richard's approach he nodded, as though distracted by other things and then - as though struck by a brilliant idea - he said, "Have you met Miss Douglas yet? Miss Nicola Douglas? Would you like me to introduce you?" "Of course, of course..." He offered his hand, and a slightly crooked smile to Miss Douglas. "Charmed, really." "Well, the pleasure is all =mine=, Lord Richard," Nicola said with a sultry smile. "Such a shame that we haven't been properly introduced yet. Richard continued, "But I'm afraid, old boy, your wine steward is being tugged away for a moment. Something about the elevator shaft, trapped guests, you know how it is. Probably got shook in the last raid." "Oh, no, the poor dears," Nicola said, putting on a sympathetic face. "I do hope Hodges can work some magic or else we may have to move the entire party downstairs!" A lady, Nicola had been told, never is the first to rush to the scene of a fire. She therefore would have to be satisfied with silently counting heads. Nobody on the fifth floor would be in the lift, so that meant the Beamans were out of harm's way. She had personally seen Marjorie, Mr. Davis from the third floor, Countess Arabella (which meant Lady Pamela was not in the lift as those two were practically joined at the hip), the Skeffington-Nottles, Officer Worthington and- Suddenly, realization hit. She had seen Mrs. Evans leaving her flat just before she started tredging up the stairs, but the older woman had still not arrived at the party, when it had been at least twenty minutes since Nicola had seen her. It took a very quick and unladylike sip of gin to keep her giant grin hidden from view. __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! Mail - Easier than ever with enhanced search. Learn more. http://info.mail.yahoo.com/mail_250 From windeaglebjm at yahoo.com Tue Dec 21 21:52:52 2004 From: windeaglebjm at yahoo.com (Brenda McCartney) Date: Tue Dec 21 21:52:55 2004 Subject: [MaC] Even more guests arrive In-Reply-To: <01a001c4e6ff$1c2dd070$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <20041222025252.66644.qmail@web50704.mail.yahoo.com> --- Mel Mason wrote: > James walked away from the mirror and to the door. Opening it, he > looked to each side of the apartment, as was always his wont. > Looking > in the direction of the lift, he smiled and gave a nod to Oswald and > Lucinda as he approached. > > "Mrs and Mrs Skeffington-Nottle, a pleasure to see you this evening." > he > said as he reached them. > > "Shall we, take the lift together?" he offered, his voice just above > the > clanking of the rising lift. > > > "Let's," agreed Lucinda with her friendly smile. "Isn't it kind of > the > Fitzroys to ask everyone to a party? Just the thing we need to cheer > us up > ... it does seem horried to have Christmas in the middle of a war!" > > "Lou's missing our youngsters," added Oswald. "They're down in > Hampshire > with her folks." > > He slid the iron grille door across and pressed the button for the > fifth > floor. "We should have some decent drink tonight too," he added. > "Theatrical types, you know. Although I must say old Fotzroy has > never > struck me as a particularly sensitive soul. Still, can't be all bad > if he's > having us all round for drinks." > > The lift slowly began to ascend ... > > > ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ > > > > Even though he was running late, Cyril savored the feeling of > dressing > > formally once again. There was a time when it was commonplace. > Back > > when times were good. The Depression and then the war had made it > > tough to run a business. Parker & Beaman, Ltd. had managed to hold > on > > so far, but only just. It wasn't just the war that caused the lack > of > > help, though Florence didn't know that. Cyril had had to sack all > but > > a skeleton crew to save money. Nowadays, he was getting his hands > > dirtier than he had since his Navy days in the Great War. > > > > When he was finally ready, Cyril grandly offered his arm to > Florence > > and they breezed off to the Fitzroy party - which was right next > door. > > Florence rang the bell. > > > > There was a pause, and then the door was opened by their neighbour, > Anton > Barowenski. He bowed slightly. > > "Our host is otherwise engaged," he said with a slight smile. "I am > performing the duties of footman. In wartime we must all take what > we can > get, it seems ... " "That it does, Anton. That it does," Cyril answers heartily. "Good to see you instead of just hearing you for a change. Florence loves to listen to you rehearse." > > He paused as the clanking sounds from the lift indicated that it was > getting > closer. Presently it emerged into view, and even before the iron > grille > slid open they could all see that it contained James Drake and the > Skeffington-Nottles. > > "Allow me to escort you upstairs," said Anton Barowenski with a > little bow, > even as the lift began to clank its way down to pick up the next > group of > guests. > > "Thanks," said Oswald. "I'm looking forward to this! Will you be > playing, > Mr Barowenski?" > > The Polish concert pianist bowed slightly. "I have been requested > to," he > responded, and there was no mistaking the faint irony in his tone on > the > word 'request' - the implication being that it had been more of a > command > than a request. > > He indicated the stairs to the upper floor. "The party is in the > lounge," > he said. "I shall await the remaining guests." He smiled faintly. > "If one > of you gentlemen has a cigarette to spare? I seem to be quite out > ... " > > > ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ > > When this group arrived, they found Hodges, the flats' maintenance > man, > solemnly mixing drinks for Nicola Diamond and Majorie Higgins, the > post > woman who lived on the ground floor, while Marty Fitzroy gazed > avariciously > at Miss Diamond. Also present was the dark young American from Flat > 11, > Braham Davis and - as usual in the background - Mrs Esme Fitzroy. > > > > > _______________________________________________ > murder_at_christmas mailing list > murder_at_christmas@gamera.cc > http://gamera.cc/mailman/listinfo/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc > __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! Mail - 250MB free storage. Do more. Manage less. http://info.mail.yahoo.com/mail_250 From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Tue Dec 21 22:00:39 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Tue Dec 21 22:00:49 2004 Subject: [MaC] Outside Number One Flat: Pamela and Philip In-Reply-To: <41C8BC78.1020400@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <00e501c4e7d2$6d9c3a40$96f1fea9@BriansPC> > Warmth suffused her voice again as she went on, "But I do > hope you enjoy yourself, in spite of everything. Mum and Mrs > Evans are friends, so I know you've been there, and yet I > only meet you tonight. It does seem a shame, you being > cooped up so." "Ah, it's just as well, really," Philip said, perhaps a bit too casually. "I'm still a bit -- awkward -- about my hand, and most of the time I'm not fit company for man or beast...not even Aunt Evangeline's horrid little feline." He dropped his voice on the last few words, to avoid Evangeline's preternaturally sharp hearing. "Much less a lady," he added in a more normal tone. "But I suppose I just need a bit of time, and I shall be right as rain before long. I do appreciate your concern, though." > They took the stairs at a deliberate pace, Pamela > managing well. She asked to stop briefly on the third landing. Philip waited patiently as Pamela rested her ankle, making small talk about her WAAF duties. As they waited, footsteps began descending from above. After a glance up, Philip said, "Ah! Here's Mr. Hodges now." From windeaglebjm at yahoo.com Tue Dec 21 22:06:46 2004 From: windeaglebjm at yahoo.com (Brenda McCartney) Date: Tue Dec 21 22:06:50 2004 Subject: [MaC] At the Fitzroys: More guests arrive In-Reply-To: <36e1ae0304122019453a37716e@mail.gmail.com> Message-ID: <20041222030646.62107.qmail@web50701.mail.yahoo.com> --- Jvstin wrote: > On Mon, 20 Dec 2004 19:20:40 -0800 (PST), Jonathan Katalenic > wrote: > > At this point, the host of the party, Marty Fitzroy > > himself entered, with Nicola Diamond on his arm. They > > were closely followed by Anton Barowenski with > > Marjorie Higgins. > > > > "More drinks, 'Odges!" ordered Fitzroy. "What will > > you 'ave, my dear?" he said, turning with an > > oleaginous smile to Nicola. The sound of the > > doorbell ringing brought a frown to his face. "You > > get that, Esme," he ordered abruptly. > > > > "Au contraire," said Anton, with a little bow. Mrs. > > Fitzroy, if you will permit ... and Miss Higgins, if > > you will excuse me ... " > > > > Another bow and he was gone down the stairs. > > > > "Well," said Esme faintly, sinking back in her chair. > > > > Marty Fitzroy was scowling - clearly his client's > > intervention had not pleased him. Then he gave a > > short laugh. "Foreigners!" he said contemptuously, > > before turning again to Nicola. "Now, Miss Diamond, > > what 's your poison?" The last was said almost with a > > leer. > > > > 'It's Douglas, you boorish ass of a man. You'd think > > you'd remember that Diamond is the one you're carrying > > on with and Douglas is the one you WISH to carry on > > with,' Nicola said, but only in her head. Remember, > > her mother had told her, a lady never corrects her > > host unless it is a matter of life or death. She bit > > her tongue and obeyed her mother's sage words. > > > > "Oh, I never know what to order," she demurred, > > batting her heavily-mascared eyelashes. To Hodges, she > > said politely, "Anything with gin in it will do me > > just fine, Mr. Hodges." > > > > ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ > > > > When this group arrived, they found Hodges, the flats' > > maintenance man, solemnly mixing drinks for Nicola > > Diamond and Majorie Higgins, the post woman who lived > > on the ground floor, while Marty Fitzroy gazed > > avariciously at Miss Diamond. Also present was the > > dark young American from Flat 11, Braham Davis and - > > as usual in the background - Mrs Esme Fitzroy. > > > > Nicola brightened at the sight of new guests and, > > drink in hand, headed over to greet the new arrivals. > > 'Thank God. One more minute with that awful Fitzroy > > and I would have screamed,' she thought. > > > > "Mr. and Mrs. Skeffington-Nottle!" she said warmly. > > "How delightful to see you. Come, have a drink!" > > > James smiled at this point, more to himself than anything else. > > "Greetings to you, Miss Douglas." James said pleasantly, turning the > smile from himself, to her. He stepped away from the > Skeffington-Nottles and moved into the room, his hazel eyes looking > around at the gathered guests. Cyril nods to James with a smile as he makes a show of escorting Florence to greet Esme Fitzroy. When the two ladies start talking, Cyril excuses himself and heads to the bar. He asks for a scotch for himself and "something light" for the missus, then delivers the drink to her. He makes polite conversation while scanning the room to see who has arrived. __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? The all-new My Yahoo! - What will yours do? http://my.yahoo.com From jvstin at gmail.com Tue Dec 21 22:18:00 2004 From: jvstin at gmail.com (Jvstin) Date: Tue Dec 21 22:18:06 2004 Subject: [MaC] At the Fitzroys: More guests arrive In-Reply-To: <20041222030646.62107.qmail@web50701.mail.yahoo.com> References: <36e1ae0304122019453a37716e@mail.gmail.com> <20041222030646.62107.qmail@web50701.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <36e1ae030412211918362dbb56@mail.gmail.com> On Tue, 21 Dec 2004 19:06:46 -0800 (PST), Brenda McCartney wrote: > > --- Jvstin wrote: > > > On Mon, 20 Dec 2004 19:20:40 -0800 (PST), Jonathan Katalenic > > wrote: > > > At this point, the host of the party, Marty Fitzroy > > > himself entered, with Nicola Diamond on his arm. They > > > were closely followed by Anton Barowenski with > > > Marjorie Higgins. > > > > > > "More drinks, 'Odges!" ordered Fitzroy. "What will > > > you 'ave, my dear?" he said, turning with an > > > oleaginous smile to Nicola. The sound of the > > > doorbell ringing brought a frown to his face. "You > > > get that, Esme," he ordered abruptly. > > > > > > "Au contraire," said Anton, with a little bow. Mrs. > > > Fitzroy, if you will permit ... and Miss Higgins, if > > > you will excuse me ... " > > > > > > Another bow and he was gone down the stairs. > > > > > > "Well," said Esme faintly, sinking back in her chair. > > > > > > Marty Fitzroy was scowling - clearly his client's > > > intervention had not pleased him. Then he gave a > > > short laugh. "Foreigners!" he said contemptuously, > > > before turning again to Nicola. "Now, Miss Diamond, > > > what 's your poison?" The last was said almost with a > > > leer. > > > > > > 'It's Douglas, you boorish ass of a man. You'd think > > > you'd remember that Diamond is the one you're carrying > > > on with and Douglas is the one you WISH to carry on > > > with,' Nicola said, but only in her head. Remember, > > > her mother had told her, a lady never corrects her > > > host unless it is a matter of life or death. She bit > > > her tongue and obeyed her mother's sage words. > > > > > > "Oh, I never know what to order," she demurred, > > > batting her heavily-mascared eyelashes. To Hodges, she > > > said politely, "Anything with gin in it will do me > > > just fine, Mr. Hodges." > > > > > > ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ > > > > > > When this group arrived, they found Hodges, the flats' > > > maintenance man, solemnly mixing drinks for Nicola > > > Diamond and Majorie Higgins, the post woman who lived > > > on the ground floor, while Marty Fitzroy gazed > > > avariciously at Miss Diamond. Also present was the > > > dark young American from Flat 11, Braham Davis and - > > > as usual in the background - Mrs Esme Fitzroy. > > > > > > Nicola brightened at the sight of new guests and, > > > drink in hand, headed over to greet the new arrivals. > > > 'Thank God. One more minute with that awful Fitzroy > > > and I would have screamed,' she thought. > > > > > > "Mr. and Mrs. Skeffington-Nottle!" she said warmly. > > > "How delightful to see you. Come, have a drink!" > > > > > James smiled at this point, more to himself than anything else. > > > > "Greetings to you, Miss Douglas." James said pleasantly, turning the > > smile from himself, to her. He stepped away from the > > Skeffington-Nottles and moved into the room, his hazel eyes looking > > around at the gathered guests. > > Cyril nods to James with a smile as he makes a show of escorting > Florence to greet Esme Fitzroy. James gives a nod in return. "Good to see you here, Cyril." he says, and smiles as he introduces Florence to Esme. When the two ladies start talking, > Cyril excuses himself and heads to the bar. He asks for a scotch for > himself and "something light" for the missus, then delivers the drink > to her. He makes polite conversation while scanning the room to see > who has arrived. From windeaglebjm at yahoo.com Tue Dec 21 22:39:05 2004 From: windeaglebjm at yahoo.com (Brenda McCartney) Date: Tue Dec 21 22:39:12 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, Pamela, Michael & Philip& Ladie... In-Reply-To: <15.3aa15454.2ef9f369@aol.com> Message-ID: <20041222033905.81835.qmail@web50704.mail.yahoo.com> --- Mrfury28@aol.com wrote: > "Mr. Hodges, it seems as if Mrs. Evans and Miss Mauberly are trapped > in the > lift. I don't think they've been injured, but it is undoubtedly a > disconcerting > experience. Do you think you could find a way to release them?" > > "Oh bother! Its this old machinery, and its very difficult nowadays > to get > proper parts!" Hodges exclaimed at the news. "Excuse me, can > someone please > tell Mr. Fitzroy I'll have to leave off my serving duties. This > matter is > rather more important. Excuse me." > > Hodges made to leave the apartment to head downstairs to his flat, to > > retrieve his tools. Cyril excused himself from his wife and walked quickly after Hodges. "Pardon me, Mr. Hodges, would you care for some assistance?" he asked the maintenance man when he caught up. "I do know a bit about hardware." __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around http://mail.yahoo.com From dorothea at textartisan.com Tue Dec 21 22:54:45 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Tue Dec 21 22:56:39 2004 Subject: [MaC] On the stairs: Pamela and Philip, Hodges and Beaman In-Reply-To: <00e501c4e7d2$6d9c3a40$96f1fea9@BriansPC> References: <00e501c4e7d2$6d9c3a40$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Message-ID: <41C8F005.8020706@textartisan.com> > "Ah, it's just as well, really," Philip said, perhaps a bit too casually. > "I'm still a bit -- awkward -- about my hand, and most of the time I'm not > fit company for man or beast...not even Aunt Evangeline's horrid little > feline." He dropped his voice on the last few words, to avoid Evangeline's > preternaturally sharp hearing. Pamela's mouth quirked. "Much less a lady," he added in a more normal > tone. "But I suppose I just need a bit of time, and I shall be right as rain > before long. I do appreciate your concern, though." > > >> They took the stairs at a deliberate pace, Pamela >>managing well. She asked to stop briefly on the third landing. > > > Philip waited patiently as Pamela rested her ankle, making small talk about > her WAAF duties. As they waited, footsteps began descending from above. > After a glance up, Philip said, "Ah! Here's Mr. Hodges now." "Oh, good. And Mr. Beaman. Good luck retrieving our poor strays, gentlemen!" Pamela started up the stairs again, no longer limping, leaving Philip the choice of coming with her or descending with the two rescuers. From nowsounds at comcast.net Tue Dec 21 23:00:49 2004 From: nowsounds at comcast.net (Nowsounds) Date: Tue Dec 21 23:00:55 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, Pamela, Michael & Philip& Ladie... References: <20041222033905.81835.qmail@web50704.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <012101c4e7da$d30407c0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> >> "Oh bother! Its this old machinery, and its very difficult nowadays >> to get >> proper parts!" Hodges exclaimed at the news. "Excuse me, can >> someone please >> tell Mr. Fitzroy I'll have to leave off my serving duties. This >> matter is >> rather more important. Excuse me." >> >> Hodges made to leave the apartment to head downstairs to his flat, to >> >> retrieve his tools. > > Cyril excused himself from his wife and walked quickly after Hodges. > "Pardon me, Mr. Hodges, would you care for some assistance?" he asked > the maintenance man when he caught up. "I do know a bit about > hardware." Arabella moved through the crowd to find her host. When she did she said, "I'm sorry to interrupt, Mr. Fitzroy, but I'm afraid Mr. Hodges had to attend to a problem with the lift - two of your guests are stuck in it. He asked that you be informed..." She hoped he wasn't going to ask her to tend bar in place of Hodges... From Mrfury28 at aol.com Tue Dec 21 23:48:12 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Tue Dec 21 23:48:19 2004 Subject: [MaC] Outside Number One Flat: Pamela and Philip Message-ID: <6d.3b1d706a.2efa568c@aol.com> Philip waited patiently as Pamela rested her ankle, making small talk about her WAAF duties. As they waited, footsteps began descending from above. After a glance up, Philip said, "Ah! Here's Mr. Hodges now." "Hullo." Hodges greeted them as the older man huffued down the stairs. "Everything allright here? I heard that Mrs Evans is stuck in the left. I may need a hand to get it working again." -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041221/a7854b14/attachment.htm From Mrfury28 at aol.com Tue Dec 21 23:49:30 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Tue Dec 21 23:49:40 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, Pamela, Michael & Philip& Ladie... Message-ID: <30.685d3b32.2efa56da@aol.com> Cyril excused himself from his wife and walked quickly after Hodges. "Pardon me, Mr. Hodges, would you care for some assistance?" he asked the maintenance man when he caught up. "I do know a bit about hardware." "Certainly, my dear chap." Hodges accepted the offer graciously. "Another pair of hands might be needed to set things right." "What happens in Bizarro World stays in Bizarro World!" - Captain Hero, Drawn Together -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041221/cd0c1dbb/attachment.htm From dorothea at textartisan.com Tue Dec 21 12:33:32 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Wed Dec 22 03:37:32 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, Pamela, Michael & Philip In-Reply-To: <00ab01c4e77d$48e17580$96f1fea9@BriansPC> References: <00ab01c4e77d$48e17580$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Message-ID: <41C85E6C.80705@textartisan.com> > "I would be delighted, Miss Hutchinson," Philip said with a wan, but > apparently genuine, smile. Then, after a moment, something Great-Aunt > Evangeline had said about the flat's residents trickled through the back of > his mind, and he gave a small but visible start. "Oh, it's *Lady* > Hutchinson, isn't it? I *do* beg your pardon, ma'am. But I would still be > honored to see you in, if you'll permit me." "Just Lady Pamela, but please don't bother; Pamela will do nicely." She took his injured arm, careful to keep her touch light, but otherwise treating it quite as an ordinary limb. "My friends call me Pam, though generally not at parties." As they mounted the first steps, an unearthly but fortunately rather muffled din echoed from somewhere behind them. "What on earth?" exclaimed Pamela, letting go of Philip's arm and stopping to listen. "It sounds like -- it's coming from the lift, I think; wasn't Hodges working on it earlier? Oh, dear, I hope --" And she hastened toward the lift doors, not heeding whether Philip or anyone else followed. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 22 04:58:21 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 22 04:58:20 2004 Subject: [MaC] Even more guests arrive References: <20041222025252.66644.qmail@web50704.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <005101c4e80c$c55d8ab0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> > When he was finally ready, Cyril grandly offered his arm to >> Florence >> > and they breezed off to the Fitzroy party - which was right next >> door. >> > Florence rang the bell. >> > >> >> There was a pause, and then the door was opened by their neighbour, >> Anton >> Barowenski. He bowed slightly. >> >> "Our host is otherwise engaged," he said with a slight smile. "I am >> performing the duties of footman. In wartime we must all take what >> we can >> get, it seems ... " > > "That it does, Anton. That it does," Cyril answers heartily. "Good to > see you instead of just hearing you for a change. Florence loves to > listen to you rehearse." >> "You are too kind," said Anton, with only the faintest note of irony. "I trust Mrs Beaman will enjoy my performance tonight. I shall be giving a ... ah, what do you call it? A command performance." >> He paused as the clanking sounds from the lift indicated that it was >> getting >> closer. Presently it emerged into view, and even before the iron >> grille >> slid open they could all see that it contained James Drake and the >> Skeffington-Nottles. >> (etc) From goldfired at gmail.com Wed Dec 22 05:49:15 2004 From: goldfired at gmail.com (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 22 05:49:19 2004 Subject: [MaC] Outside Number One Flat: Pamela and Philip In-Reply-To: <00db01c4e7a9$0d25d910$96f1fea9@BriansPC> References: <6.2.0.14.0.20041221170006.0452ea38@mail.cac.net> <00db01c4e7a9$0d25d910$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Message-ID: > > [ooc: Does he call out to them? They're in the lift between > > floors and can hear but not see. AFAIK.] > > [OOC: My impression was that they are stuck between floors, but since the > lift cages are grill-like and not solid, they could certainly see (and be > seen) out. Mel?] > As soon as anyone reaches their level, they can talk to them - in fact, unless people choose to speak in low voices, those in the lift will hear conversations outside, and vice versa. From windeaglebjm at yahoo.com Wed Dec 22 06:14:09 2004 From: windeaglebjm at yahoo.com (Brenda McCartney) Date: Wed Dec 22 06:14:14 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, Pamela, Michael & Philip& Ladie... In-Reply-To: <30.685d3b32.2efa56da@aol.com> Message-ID: <20041222111409.87945.qmail@web50703.mail.yahoo.com> --- Mrfury28@aol.com wrote: > Cyril excused himself from his wife and walked quickly after Hodges. > "Pardon me, Mr. Hodges, would you care for some assistance?" he asked > the maintenance man when he caught up. "I do know a bit about > hardware." > > "Certainly, my dear chap." Hodges accepted the offer graciously. > "Another > pair of hands might be needed to set things right." Cyril accompanied Hodges out. __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Take Yahoo! Mail with you! Get it on your mobile phone. http://mobile.yahoo.com/maildemo From windeaglebjm at yahoo.com Wed Dec 22 06:19:07 2004 From: windeaglebjm at yahoo.com (Brenda McCartney) Date: Wed Dec 22 06:19:11 2004 Subject: [MaC] Outside Number One Flat: Pamela and Philip In-Reply-To: <6d.3b1d706a.2efa568c@aol.com> Message-ID: <20041222111907.45788.qmail@web50705.mail.yahoo.com> --- Mrfury28@aol.com wrote: > Philip waited patiently as Pamela rested her ankle, making small talk > about > her WAAF duties. As they waited, footsteps began descending from > above. After a > glance up, Philip said, "Ah! Here's Mr. Hodges now." > > "Hullo." Hodges greeted them as the older man huffued down the > stairs. > "Everything allright here? I heard that Mrs Evans is stuck in the > left. I may > need a hand to get it working again." Mr. Beaman arrived after Hodges. "Ah, Lady Hutchinson. What do we have here?" he said as looked inquiringly toward the elevator. > > > > _______________________________________________ > murder_at_christmas mailing list > murder_at_christmas@gamera.cc > http://gamera.cc/mailman/listinfo/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc > __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Dress up your holiday email, Hollywood style. Learn more. http://celebrity.mail.yahoo.com From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 22 06:35:18 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 22 06:35:15 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, Pamela, Michael & Philip& Ladie... References: <20041222033905.81835.qmail@web50704.mail.yahoo.com> <012101c4e7da$d30407c0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> Message-ID: <007501c4e81a$506b2790$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >>> Hodges made to leave the apartment to head downstairs to his flat, to >>> >>> retrieve his tools. >> >> Cyril excused himself from his wife and walked quickly after Hodges. >> "Pardon me, Mr. Hodges, would you care for some assistance?" he asked >> the maintenance man when he caught up. "I do know a bit about >> hardware." > > Arabella moved through the crowd to find her host. When she did she said, > "I'm sorry to interrupt, Mr. Fitzroy, but I'm afraid Mr. Hodges had to > attend to a problem with the lift - two of your guests are stuck in it. He > asked that you be informed..." She hoped he wasn't going to ask her to > tend bar in place of Hodges... Marty Fitzroy frowned - clearly he was not amused by this interruption to his party. He scanned the room quickly, and seemed to come to a decision. He strode over to where Marjorie Higgins was sitting talking to Braham Davis. "'Ere, Miss 'Iggins," he said. "You won't mind taking over serving the drinks, would you? War time emergency an' all that malarkey. An' they'll be a guinea in it for you too." From kris.kunkel at gmail.com Wed Dec 22 07:47:26 2004 From: kris.kunkel at gmail.com (Knave of Amber) Date: Wed Dec 22 07:47:28 2004 Subject: [MaC] Outside Number One Flat: Pamela and Philip In-Reply-To: <20041222111907.45788.qmail@web50705.mail.yahoo.com> References: <6d.3b1d706a.2efa568c@aol.com> <20041222111907.45788.qmail@web50705.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <3b089f7c041222044743f221de@mail.gmail.com> On Wed, 22 Dec 2004 03:19:07 -0800 (PST), Brenda McCartney wrote: > > --- Mrfury28@aol.com wrote: > > > Philip waited patiently as Pamela rested her ankle, making small talk > > about > > her WAAF duties. As they waited, footsteps began descending from > > above. After a > > glance up, Philip said, "Ah! Here's Mr. Hodges now." > > > > "Hullo." Hodges greeted them as the older man huffued down the > > stairs. > > "Everything allright here? I heard that Mrs Evans is stuck in the > > left. I may > > need a hand to get it working again." > > Mr. Beaman arrived after Hodges. "Ah, Lady Hutchinson. What do we > have here?" he said as looked inquiringly toward the elevator. "Might be a bit of help if I can, old boy," Garreth offered. He had followed Phillip and Pamela down the stairs and was just emerging from flat 4 with two canvas tool bags. "Do we need to go to the roof?" he asked the super. "Perhaps Lady Hutchinson and Pilot Officer Powell would be so kind as to go reassure the ladies that we've the situation well in hand," the senior officer suggested. > > From dorothea at textartisan.com Wed Dec 22 08:47:35 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Wed Dec 22 08:49:29 2004 Subject: [MaC] Outside Number One Flat: Pamela and Philip In-Reply-To: <3b089f7c041222044743f221de@mail.gmail.com> References: <6d.3b1d706a.2efa568c@aol.com> <20041222111907.45788.qmail@web50705.mail.yahoo.com> <3b089f7c041222044743f221de@mail.gmail.com> Message-ID: <41C97AF7.7080006@textartisan.com> > "Perhaps Lady Hutchinson and Pilot Officer Powell would be so kind as > to go reassure the ladies that we've the situation well in hand," the > senior officer suggested. "Why, certainly," Pamela said. "Do send up progress reports when you can." From rpruehs at Itctransco.com Wed Dec 22 08:51:25 2004 From: rpruehs at Itctransco.com (Pruehs, Ree M.) Date: Wed Dec 22 08:51:14 2004 Subject: [MaC] Outside Number One Flat: Pamela and Philip Message-ID: > -----Original Message----- > From: murder_at_christmas-bounces@gamera.cc > [mailto:murder_at_christmas-bounces@gamera.cc] On Behalf Of > Dorothea Salo > Sent: Wednesday, December 22, 2004 8:48 AM > To: Knave of Amber; murder_at_christmas@gamera.cc > Subject: Re: [MaC] Outside Number One Flat: Pamela and Philip > > > > "Perhaps Lady Hutchinson and Pilot Officer Powell would be > so kind as > > to go reassure the ladies that we've the situation well in > hand," the > > senior officer suggested. > > "Why, certainly," Pamela said. "Do send up progress > reports when you can." In the meantime, Vangie was saying to Marion, "I don't suppose we should start up a rousing sing-along." From kris.kunkel at gmail.com Wed Dec 22 08:56:51 2004 From: kris.kunkel at gmail.com (Knave of Amber) Date: Wed Dec 22 08:56:53 2004 Subject: [MaC] Outside Number One Flat: Pamela and Philip In-Reply-To: <3b089f7c041222044743f221de@mail.gmail.com> References: <6d.3b1d706a.2efa568c@aol.com> <20041222111907.45788.qmail@web50705.mail.yahoo.com> <3b089f7c041222044743f221de@mail.gmail.com> Message-ID: <3b089f7c0412220556256a8ac8@mail.gmail.com> On Wed, 22 Dec 2004 07:47:26 -0500, Knave of Amber wrote: > On Wed, 22 Dec 2004 03:19:07 -0800 (PST), Brenda McCartney > wrote: > > > > --- Mrfury28@aol.com wrote: > > > > > Philip waited patiently as Pamela rested her ankle, making small talk > > > about > > > her WAAF duties. As they waited, footsteps began descending from > > > above. After a > > > glance up, Philip said, "Ah! Here's Mr. Hodges now." > > > > > > "Hullo." Hodges greeted them as the older man huffued down the > > > stairs. > > > "Everything allright here? I heard that Mrs Evans is stuck in the > > > left. I may > > > need a hand to get it working again." > > > > Mr. Beaman arrived after Hodges. "Ah, Lady Hutchinson. What do we > > have here?" he said as looked inquiringly toward the elevator. > > "Might be a bit of help if I can, old boy," Garreth offered. He had > followed Phillip and Pamela down the stairs and was just emerging from > flat 4 with two canvas tool bags. "Do we need to go to the roof?" he > asked the super. > > "Perhaps Lady Hutchinson and Pilot Officer Powell would be so kind as > to go reassure the ladies that we've the situation well in hand," the > senior officer suggested. > > > > [Excuse my typo... Garreth was last year's character... this year's pilot is Michael. I knew I shouldn't have made such similar characters. Sorry, Mel.] From faespinner at yahoo.com Wed Dec 22 08:57:57 2004 From: faespinner at yahoo.com (Tara Kunkel) Date: Wed Dec 22 08:58:28 2004 Subject: [MaC] Mingling at the Party: Braham & Marjorie In-Reply-To: <41C8A8A8.4010509@elfworks.com> References: <5.1.0.14.0.20041221143244.028628e0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <5.1.0.14.0.20041221105241.02904fc0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <5.1.0.14.0.20041221105241.02904fc0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <5.1.0.14.0.20041221143244.028628e0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <5.1.0.14.0.20041222085439.02847c48@pop.mail.yahoo.com> > "Silly man!" Marjorie exclaimed. "All you had to do was come by >and ask if there was mail for you. I'd've talked to you. And >if you ever need someone to go out with out you and take you >somewhere all you have to do is ask." Marjorie nodded to Braham. >"I know this area like the back of my hand, I do. And I can show >you the safe ways around, too!" "I may very well take you up on that offer. It's about time I got to know this city better," he replied. >At that point Hodges left the room quickly. Marjorie looked >up at that with a bit of surprise. "I hope nothin's wrong," >she said with a bit of concern. Braham watched him for a moment and then surveyed the room. "My guess is there is a minor emergency. A few people look a bit put out." Before he could say much more, Fitzroy began his approach. [Onto the next thread...] From faespinner at yahoo.com Wed Dec 22 09:01:55 2004 From: faespinner at yahoo.com (Tara Kunkel) Date: Wed Dec 22 09:02:17 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, Pamela, Michael & Philip& Ladie... In-Reply-To: <007501c4e81a$506b2790$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041222033905.81835.qmail@web50704.mail.yahoo.com> <012101c4e7da$d30407c0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> Message-ID: <5.1.0.14.0.20041222085802.027a2dd0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> >Marty Fitzroy frowned - clearly he was not amused by this interruption to >his party. He scanned the room quickly, and seemed to come to a decision. >He strode over to where Marjorie Higgins was sitting talking to Braham Davis. > >"'Ere, Miss 'Iggins," he said. "You won't mind taking over serving the >drinks, would you? War time emergency an' all that malarkey. An' they'll >be a guinea in it for you too." "No need for that," Braham said as he jumped to his feet. "I'll do it. And I won't take a cent for it either. If there is an emergency, I'll be glad to help out." The offer was a mix of chivalry and true concern. Miss Higgins was tired after a long day. There really was no point in making her more so. [Tag: Fitzroy & Marjorie] From kcunningham40 at comcast.net Wed Dec 22 09:09:52 2004 From: kcunningham40 at comcast.net (Katie Fulton) Date: Wed Dec 22 09:09:59 2004 Subject: [MaC] At the party - Richard, Marty, Nicola, the Skeffington-Nottles References: <20041222022457.59987.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <005101c4e82f$eacee0f0$2200000a@FrontDesk> Marty Fitzroy was hovering - a difficult thing for a man of his bulk to manage successfully. It was clear that the focus of his attention was Miss Nicola Douglas, who he was watching almost greedily. At Richard's approach he nodded, as though distracted by other things and then - as though struck by a brilliant idea - he said, "Have you met Miss Douglas yet? Miss Nicola Douglas? Would you like me to introduce you?" "Of course, of course..." He offered his hand, and a slightly crooked smile to Miss Douglas. "Charmed, really." "Well, the pleasure is all =mine=, Lord Richard," Nicola said with a sultry smile. "Such a shame that we haven't been properly introduced yet. Richard continued, "But I'm afraid, old boy, your wine steward is being tugged away for a moment. Something about the elevator shaft, trapped guests, you know how it is. Probably got shook in the last raid." "Oh, no, the poor dears," Nicola said, putting on a sympathetic face. "I do hope Hodges can work some magic or else we may have to move the entire party downstairs!" A lady, Nicola had been told, never is the first to rush to the scene of a fire. She therefore would have to be satisfied with silently counting heads. Nobody on the fifth floor would be in the lift, so that meant the Beamans were out of harm's way. She had personally seen Marjorie, Mr. Davis from the third floor, Countess Arabella (which meant Lady Pamela was not in the lift as those two were practically joined at the hip), the Skeffington-Nottles, Officer Worthington and- Suddenly, realization hit. She had seen Mrs. Evans leaving her flat just before she started tredging up the stairs, but the older woman had still not arrived at the party, when it had been at least twenty minutes since Nicola had seen her. It took a very quick and unladylike sip of gin to keep her giant grin hidden from view. "I'm certain Hodges will make everything right." Richard took a sip of his own drink. "Struck me as a terribly competent fellow, and even if he is pouring, I don't think he's sampling. Nothing worse than a drunk steward, trust me." He laughed to himself. "Reminds me of Christmas three years ago, back home..." From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 22 09:44:36 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 22 09:45:31 2004 Subject: [MaC] Outside Number One Flat: Pamela and Philip References: <6d.3b1d706a.2efa568c@aol.com><20041222111907.45788.qmail@web50705.mail.yahoo.com> <3b089f7c041222044743f221de@mail.gmail.com> Message-ID: <008501c4e834$c2613370$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> > Philip waited patiently as Pamela rested her ankle, making small talk >> > about >> > her WAAF duties. As they waited, footsteps began descending from >> > above. After a >> > glance up, Philip said, "Ah! Here's Mr. Hodges now." >> > >> > "Hullo." Hodges greeted them as the older man huffued down the >> > stairs. >> > "Everything allright here? I heard that Mrs Evans is stuck in the >> > left. I may >> > need a hand to get it working again." >> >> Mr. Beaman arrived after Hodges. "Ah, Lady Hutchinson. What do we >> have here?" he said as looked inquiringly toward the elevator. > > "Might be a bit of help if I can, old boy," Michael offered. He had > followed Phillip and Pamela down the stairs and was just emerging from > flat 4 with two canvas tool bags. "Do we need to go to the roof?" he > asked the super. > > "Perhaps Lady Hutchinson and Pilot Officer Powell would be so kind as > to go reassure the ladies that we've the situation well in hand," the > senior officer suggested. > The situation was now that the two ladies - Mrs Evans and Miss Mauberley - were inside the lift between the fourth and fifth floors but, thanks to the design and structure of the lift, could clearly see and hear all that was happening. Philip and Pamela had come up from the first floor (and more lately the third floor), and so were slightly below the lift, while Michael Coldstream-Briggs had followed them up. Hodges and Beaman were above, and sould see the problem - a chain had come loose on one of the cogs. It needed to be reattached, tightened and oiled. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 22 09:56:47 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 22 09:56:38 2004 Subject: [MaC] Outside Number One Flat: Pamela and Philip References: <6d.3b1d706a.2efa568c@aol.com><20041222111907.45788.qmail@web50705.mail.yahoo.com><3b089f7c041222044743f221de@mail.gmail.com> <008501c4e834$c2613370$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <00a301c4e836$7616f2f0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >>> > Philip waited patiently as Pamela rested her ankle, making small talk >>> > about >>> > her WAAF duties. As they waited, footsteps began descending from >>> > above. After a >>> > glance up, Philip said, "Ah! Here's Mr. Hodges now." >>> > >>> > "Hullo." Hodges greeted them as the older man huffued down the >>> > stairs. >>> > "Everything allright here? I heard that Mrs Evans is stuck in the >>> > left. I may >>> > need a hand to get it working again." >>> >>> Mr. Beaman arrived after Hodges. "Ah, Lady Hutchinson. What do we >>> have here?" he said as looked inquiringly toward the elevator. >> >> "Might be a bit of help if I can, old boy," Michael offered. He had >> followed Phillip and Pamela down the stairs and was just emerging from >> flat 4 with two canvas tool bags. "Do we need to go to the roof?" he >> asked the super. >> >> "Perhaps Lady Hutchinson and Pilot Officer Powell would be so kind as >> to go reassure the ladies that we've the situation well in hand," the >> senior officer suggested. >> > > The situation was now that the two ladies - Mrs Evans and Miss Mauberley - > were inside the lift between the fourth and fifth floors but, thanks to > the design and structure of the lift, could clearly see and hear all that > was happening. Philip and Pamela had come up from the first floor (and > more lately the third floor), and so were slightly below the lift, while > Michael Coldstream-Briggs had followed them up. > > Hodges and Beaman were above, and sould see the problem - a chain had come > loose on one of the cogs. It needed to be reattached, tightened and > oiled. > (OOC - Philip and Pamela can continue to the party if they wish) From dorothea at textartisan.com Wed Dec 22 10:03:11 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Wed Dec 22 10:05:03 2004 Subject: [MaC] Joining the Fun (Pamela, Philip) Message-ID: <41C98CAF.201@textartisan.com> Pamela left the would-be rescuers consulting with each other in low voices and mounted stairs to the penthouse. She stopped just outside it to brush down her dress, straighten her jacket, and twine a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She took Philip's arm again, noticing that he was the epitome of what her mother would call a Fine Young Man. "Oh, dear," she murmured. "I seem to be making an entrance after all." And she opened the door for them both, and preceded Philip through it. From veazeyae at gmail.com Wed Dec 22 10:08:07 2004 From: veazeyae at gmail.com (Allen Veazey) Date: Wed Dec 22 10:08:08 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, Pamela, Michael & Philip& Ladie... In-Reply-To: <5.1.0.14.0.20041222085802.027a2dd0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> References: <20041222033905.81835.qmail@web50704.mail.yahoo.com> <012101c4e7da$d30407c0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <007501c4e81a$506b2790$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <5.1.0.14.0.20041222085802.027a2dd0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: > >Marty Fitzroy frowned - clearly he was not amused by this interruption to > >his party. He scanned the room quickly, and seemed to come to a decision. > >He strode over to where Marjorie Higgins was sitting talking to Braham Davis. > > > >"'Ere, Miss 'Iggins," he said. "You won't mind taking over serving the > >drinks, would you? War time emergency an' all that malarkey. An' they'll > >be a guinea in it for you too." > > "No need for that," Braham said as he jumped to his feet. "I'll do it. And > I won't take a cent for it either. If there is an emergency, I'll be glad > to help out." The offer was a mix of chivalry and true concern. Miss > Higgins was tired after a long day. There really was no point in making her > more so. Nearby, Warren was inching towards the bar, craning his neck hopefully to see if there was something he could mix... From margdean at erols.com Wed Dec 22 10:08:47 2004 From: margdean at erols.com (Margaret Dean) Date: Wed Dec 22 10:10:28 2004 Subject: [MaC] In the Lift - Vangie and Marion References: Message-ID: <41C98DFF.FBD423AF@erols.com> "Pruehs, Ree M." wrote: > In the meantime, Vangie was saying to Marion, "I don't suppose we should > start up a rousing sing-along." "Christmas carols and the like, you mean?" Marion asked, amused. "That should certainly, um, inspire them to get us out of here quickly." Though she loved music, Marion knew quite well that her singing voice left much to be desired. --Margaret Dean From rpruehs at Itctransco.com Wed Dec 22 10:26:58 2004 From: rpruehs at Itctransco.com (Pruehs, Ree M.) Date: Wed Dec 22 10:26:47 2004 Subject: [MaC] In the Lift - Vangie and Marion Message-ID: > > In the meantime, Vangie was saying to Marion, "I don't suppose we > > should start up a rousing sing-along." > > "Christmas carols and the like, you mean?" Marion asked, amused. > "That should certainly, um, inspire them to get us out of > here quickly." Though she loved music, Marion knew quite > well that her singing voice left much to be desired. "Yes, exactly." said Vangie. "However, they will in any case keep up =our= spirits, don't you think?" There was a wicked twinkle in her eyes as she added "One must, after all, uphold the best traditions of the Women's Institute..." In what turned out to be not a terrifically bad (or, it must be confessed, not terrifically good) alto she launched into "Jerusalem." "And did those feet in ancient time / Walk upon England's mountains green? / And was the Holy Lamb of God / On England's pleasant pastures seen...?" > From margdean at erols.com Wed Dec 22 10:40:47 2004 From: margdean at erols.com (Margaret Dean) Date: Wed Dec 22 10:42:28 2004 Subject: [MaC] In the Lift - Vangie and Marion References: Message-ID: <41C9957F.CB212B00@erols.com> "Pruehs, Ree M." wrote: > > > > In the meantime, Vangie was saying to Marion, "I don't suppose we > > > should start up a rousing sing-along." > > > > "Christmas carols and the like, you mean?" Marion asked, amused. > > "That should certainly, um, inspire them to get us out of > > here quickly." Though she loved music, Marion knew quite > > well that her singing voice left much to be desired. > > "Yes, exactly." said Vangie. "However, they will in any case keep up > =our= spirits, don't you think?" There was a wicked twinkle in her eyes > as she added "One must, after all, uphold the best traditions of the > Women's Institute..." > > In what turned out to be not a terrifically bad (or, it must be > confessed, not terrifically good) alto she launched into "Jerusalem." > > "And did those feet in ancient time / Walk upon England's mountains > green? / And was the Holy Lamb of God / On England's pleasant pastures > seen...?" Marion shrugged, and joined in at about the third line. --Margaret Dean From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 22 11:39:18 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 22 11:39:18 2004 Subject: [MaC] At the Party: Marjorie, Braham, Warren and Oswald References: <20041222033905.81835.qmail@web50704.mail.yahoo.com><012101c4e7da$d30407c0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><007501c4e81a$506b2790$0202a8c0@Behemoth><5.1.0.14.0.20041222085802.027a2dd0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <00bb01c4e844$c8615a60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> >Marty Fitzroy frowned - clearly he was not amused by this interruption >> >to >> >his party. He scanned the room quickly, and seemed to come to a >> >decision. >> >He strode over to where Marjorie Higgins was sitting talking to Braham >> >Davis. >> > >> >"'Ere, Miss 'Iggins," he said. "You won't mind taking over serving the >> >drinks, would you? War time emergency an' all that malarkey. An' >> >they'll >> >be a guinea in it for you too." >> >> "No need for that," Braham said as he jumped to his feet. "I'll do it. >> And >> I won't take a cent for it either. If there is an emergency, I'll be glad >> to help out." The offer was a mix of chivalry and true concern. Miss >> Higgins was tired after a long day. There really was no point in making >> her >> more so. > Marty Fitzroy frowned. To ask the postwoman who lived on the first floor to help out was one thing, it seemed. To have a wealthy American guest stepping into the breach was quite another. > Nearby, Warren was inching towards the bar, craning his neck > hopefully to see if there was something he could mix... > There was a large selection arranged on the table. As Warren reached forward, he was aware of another hand reaching out too. "Sorry," said Oswald Skeffington-Nottle. "We seem spoilt for choice, son't we?" He smiled amiably at Warren. From Mrfury28 at aol.com Wed Dec 22 12:14:42 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Wed Dec 22 12:14:56 2004 Subject: [MaC] Outside Number One Flat: Pamela and Philip Message-ID: <128.52aa8087.2efb0582@aol.com> Hodges and Beaman were above, and sould see the problem - a chain had come loose on one of the cogs. It needed to be reattached, tightened and oiled. "I'd best retrieve my tool box, Mr. Beaman." Hodges stated as the two men surveyed the situation. "I'll be back in a moment." Hodges went to his flat to get his tool box and an oil can. "We'll have you out as soon as we can; the problem isn't serious, thank the Lord!" Hodges called down to reassure the women. OOC: Mel Will he need to climb anywhere?; need a stepladder, etc.? -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041222/6eb3377c/attachment.htm From rpruehs at Itctransco.com Wed Dec 22 12:40:19 2004 From: rpruehs at Itctransco.com (Pruehs, Ree M.) Date: Wed Dec 22 12:40:08 2004 Subject: [MaC] The Elevator Message-ID: Hodges and Beaman were above, and sould see the problem - a chain had come loose on one of the cogs. It needed to be reattached, tightened and oiled. "I'd best retrieve my tool box, Mr. Beaman." Hodges stated as the two men surveyed the situation. "I'll be back in a moment." Hodges went to his flat to get his tool box and an oil can. "We'll have you out as soon as we can; the problem isn't serious, thank the Lord!" Hodges called down to reassure the women. " --will not cease I will not cease from mental fight / Nor shall my sword sleep --" reverberated up the shaft of the elevator. There was a pause. Then a female voice called up "Thank you, Mr Hodges." The song resumed: "--in my hand / Till we have built--" OOC: Mel Will he need to climb anywhere?; need a stepladder, etc.? -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041222/5ba00a81/attachment.htm From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 22 12:44:30 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 22 12:44:17 2004 Subject: [MaC] Outside Number One Flat: Pamela and Philip References: <128.52aa8087.2efb0582@aol.com> Message-ID: <00e201c4e84d$e41ae470$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Hodges and Beaman were above, and sould see the problem - a chain had come loose on one of the cogs. It needed to be reattached, tightened and oiled. "I'd best retrieve my tool box, Mr. Beaman." Hodges stated as the two men surveyed the situation. "I'll be back in a moment." Hodges went to his flat to get his tool box and an oil can. "We'll have you out as soon as we can; the problem isn't serious, thank the Lord!" Hodges called down to reassure the women. OOC: Mel Will he need to climb anywhere?; need a stepladder, etc.? OOC - Actually, the roof is level with the fifith floor entance, so getting in should be easy once he's disabled the doors. Then he can fix it, and it should run smoothly. From Mrfury28 at aol.com Wed Dec 22 13:22:55 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Wed Dec 22 13:23:09 2004 Subject: [MaC] Fixing the Lift Message-ID: <143.3b5280ef.2efb157f@aol.com> "Mr. Beaman, can you assist me? We're going to have to disable the doors, then head up to the fifth floor to repair the detached chain there." Hodges pointed out the damage to Cyril. -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041222/d6f3ed07/attachment.htm From rpruehs at Itctransco.com Wed Dec 22 13:27:48 2004 From: rpruehs at Itctransco.com (Pruehs, Ree M.) Date: Wed Dec 22 13:27:36 2004 Subject: [MaC] Fixing the Lift Message-ID: "Mr. Beaman, can you assist me? We're going to have to disable the doors, then head up to the fifth floor to repair the detached chain there." Hodges pointed out the damage to Cyril. Within the lift resonated an eighteenth-century carol: "--heav'n and nature sing, and heav'n and nature sing, And heav'n and heav'n and nature sing!" From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 22 14:02:43 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 22 14:02:33 2004 Subject: [MaC] Joining the Fun (Pamela, Philip) References: <41C98CAF.201@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <013901c4e858$d12c8b60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> > Pamela left the would-be rescuers consulting with each other in low > voices and mounted stairs to the penthouse. She stopped just outside it to > brush down her dress, straighten her jacket, and twine a stray lock of > hair behind her ear. > > She took Philip's arm again, noticing that he was the epitome of what her > mother would call a Fine Young Man. "Oh, dear," she murmured. "I seem to > be making an entrance after all." And she opened the door for them both, > and preceded Philip through it. > Lucinda Skeffington-Nottle turned as they came in. "Oh - is the lift working again now?" she asked. "Who was stuck?" "Not me," drawled a voice from the door. It was Nola Diamond, the movie actress, radiant in dark green velvet. "Nicola," she said, in a tone devoid of expression. "Darling." She advanced into the room, her hands held out towards the American, drawing her close o kiss the air either side of her face. "How lovely to see you. God, I need a drink." She moved towards Braham, Marjorie, Oswald and Warren where they stood by the drinks table. Marty Fitzroy - and everyone else present in the room - she ignored totally. "A martini," she announced. "With just a whisper of vermouth. Dry, darling, dry." To one side, Anoton Barowenski adjusted his white tie nervously. From hmace at elfworks.com Wed Dec 22 14:12:26 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Wed Dec 22 14:12:27 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, Pamela, Michael & Philip& Ladie... In-Reply-To: References: <20041222033905.81835.qmail@web50704.mail.yahoo.com> <012101c4e7da$d30407c0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <007501c4e81a$506b2790$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <5.1.0.14.0.20041222085802.027a2dd0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <41C9C71A.6050309@elfworks.com> >>> >>>"'Ere, Miss 'Iggins," he said. "You won't mind taking over serving the >>>drinks, would you? War time emergency an' all that malarkey. An' they'll >>>be a guinea in it for you too." >> >>"No need for that," Braham said as he jumped to his feet. "I'll do it. And >>I won't take a cent for it either. If there is an emergency, I'll be glad >>to help out." The offer was a mix of chivalry and true concern. Miss >>Higgins was tired after a long day. There really was no point in making her >>more so. > > Nearby, Warren was inching towards the bar, craning his neck > hopefully to see if there was something he could mix... Marjorie expression was a cross of indignation and annoyance. "Oh... it's all right Braham. I'll do it," she said, standing up from the couch. "And for the guinea, too," she added to Fitzroy in an undertone as she walked by him to the bar. "All right, gents, what will it be?" Marjorie announced as she looked over the alcohols at her disposal. From veazeyae at gmail.com Wed Dec 22 13:45:59 2004 From: veazeyae at gmail.com (Allen Veazey) Date: Wed Dec 22 14:13:37 2004 Subject: [MaC] Re: At the Party: Marjorie, Braham, Warren and Oswald In-Reply-To: <00bb01c4e844$c8615a60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041222033905.81835.qmail@web50704.mail.yahoo.com> <012101c4e7da$d30407c0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <007501c4e81a$506b2790$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <5.1.0.14.0.20041222085802.027a2dd0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <00bb01c4e844$c8615a60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: > There was a large selection arranged on the table. As Warren reached > forward, he was aware of another hand reaching out too. > > "Sorry," said Oswald Skeffington-Nottle. "We seem spoilt for choice, son't > we?" > > He smiled amiably at Warren. "Indeed we do," Warren said. "Though it appears patriotism is high- everyone wants the gin." He smiled. "Hope there are some juniper berries left in England after we're done." He looked around. "Did I hear something about the lift not working? Seems climbing up was a lucky thing for me, after all." From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 22 14:15:30 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 22 14:15:23 2004 Subject: [MaC] At the Party: Marjorie, Braham, Warren and Oswald Message-ID: <014d01c4e85a$9a800b80$0202a8c0@Behemoth> > There was a large selection arranged on the table. As Warren reached > forward, he was aware of another hand reaching out too. > > "Sorry," said Oswald Skeffington-Nottle. "We seem spoilt for choice, > son't > we?" > > He smiled amiably at Warren. "Indeed we do," Warren said. "Though it appears patriotism is high- everyone wants the gin." He smiled. "Hope there are some juniper berries left in England after we're done." He looked around. "Did I hear something about the lift not working? Seems climbing up was a lucky thing for me, after all." From hmace at elfworks.com Wed Dec 22 14:20:01 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Wed Dec 22 14:20:03 2004 Subject: [MaC] Joining the Fun (Pamela, Philip) In-Reply-To: <013901c4e858$d12c8b60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <41C98CAF.201@textartisan.com> <013901c4e858$d12c8b60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41C9C8E1.8020100@elfworks.com> > > It was Nola Diamond, the movie actress, radiant in dark green velvet. > > "Nicola," she said, in a tone devoid of expression. "Darling." She > advanced into the room, her hands held out towards the American, drawing > her close o kiss the air either side of her face. "How lovely to see > you. God, I need a drink." > > She moved towards Braham, Marjorie, Oswald and Warren where they stood > by the drinks table. Marty Fitzroy - and everyone else present in the > room - she ignored totally. > > "A martini," she announced. "With just a whisper of vermouth. Dry, > darling, dry." > > To one side, Anoton Barowenski adjusted his white tie nervously. "Right, Miss Diamond!" Marjorie said as she started to mix. "You look wonderful by the way Miss Diamond. Wouldn't think we were in a war or anything the way you dress," she added as she measured the liquids and poured. "Me dad had a pub up north," Marjorie continued. "Big enough that I know my way around a bottle or two." She handed the drink to Nola. "Ere ya go Miss Diamond. Mind you, it's a little strong. No sense in drinkin' them if they're watered down." She turned to Warren with a cheerful smile. "What can I get you, Officer Warren?" she queried, resting on outstretched arms on the bar as she waited for his answer. From faespinner at yahoo.com Wed Dec 22 14:26:04 2004 From: faespinner at yahoo.com (Tara Kunkel) Date: Wed Dec 22 14:26:27 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, Pamela, Michael & Philip& Ladie... In-Reply-To: <41C9C71A.6050309@elfworks.com> References: <20041222033905.81835.qmail@web50704.mail.yahoo.com> <012101c4e7da$d30407c0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <007501c4e81a$506b2790$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <5.1.0.14.0.20041222085802.027a2dd0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <5.1.0.14.0.20041222142119.0278eec0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> At 02:12 PM 12/22/2004, you wrote: >>>>"'Ere, Miss 'Iggins," he said. "You won't mind taking over serving the >>>>drinks, would you? War time emergency an' all that malarkey. An' they'll >>>>be a guinea in it for you too." >>> >>>"No need for that," Braham said as he jumped to his feet. "I'll do it. And >>>I won't take a cent for it either. If there is an emergency, I'll be glad >>>to help out." The offer was a mix of chivalry and true concern. Miss >>>Higgins was tired after a long day. There really was no point in making her >>>more so. >>Nearby, Warren was inching towards the bar, craning his neck >>hopefully to see if there was something he could mix... > >Marjorie expression was a cross of indignation and annoyance. >"Oh... it's all right Braham. I'll do it," she said, standing >up from the couch. He simply shrugged. Sometimes it paid to know when to stay out of a woman's way. >"And for the guinea, too," she added to Fitzroy in an undertone >as she walked by him to the bar. Braham could not suppress an amused chuckle. "Strong woman," he said to Fitzroy jokingly. His eyes never left Marjorie's back as he spoke. After a moment he realized he was staring and turned back to his host. "By the way, what is the emergency? Nothing too serious I hope." From nowsounds at comcast.net Wed Dec 22 14:40:32 2004 From: nowsounds at comcast.net (Nowsounds) Date: Wed Dec 22 14:40:44 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, Pamela, Michael& Philip& Ladie... References: <20041222033905.81835.qmail@web50704.mail.yahoo.com><012101c4e7da$d30407c0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><007501c4e81a$506b2790$0202a8c0@Behemoth><5.1.0.14.0.20041222085802.027a2dd0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <5.1.0.14.0.20041222142119.0278eec0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <010b01c4e85e$1aa7f040$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> >>Marjorie expression was a cross of indignation and annoyance. >>"Oh... it's all right Braham. I'll do it," she said, standing >>up from the couch. > > He simply shrugged. Sometimes it paid to know when to stay out of a > woman's way. > >>"And for the guinea, too," she added to Fitzroy in an undertone >>as she walked by him to the bar. > > Braham could not suppress an amused chuckle. "Strong woman," he said to > Fitzroy jokingly. His eyes never left Marjorie's back as he spoke. After a > moment he realized he was staring and turned back to his host. > > "By the way, what is the emergency? Nothing too serious I hope." "Oh, no..." Arabella assured him. "Mrs. Evans and Mrs. Mauberly got stuck in the lift. I'm told it happens occasionally... They don't seem to be injured at all, but I imagine it's inconvenient and, as I said to Mr. Fitzroy, disconcerting." She saw Pamela enter with Philip and smiled. Her daughter looked completely appropriate for the occasion and the time... unlike one or two of the women there. She saw Mrs. Fitzroy, looking nervous, and it occurred to her that Mrs. Fitzroy invariably looked nervous. "If you gentlemen will excuse me," she said with a smile, and crossed over to their hostess. "How kind of you and your husband to entertain us all. It's a great relief to have such an occasion so close to home." From veazeyae at gmail.com Wed Dec 22 15:04:56 2004 From: veazeyae at gmail.com (Allen Veazey) Date: Wed Dec 22 15:04:58 2004 Subject: [MaC] Joining the Fun (Pamela, Philip) In-Reply-To: <41C9C8E1.8020100@elfworks.com> References: <41C98CAF.201@textartisan.com> <013901c4e858$d12c8b60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41C9C8E1.8020100@elfworks.com> Message-ID: > "Me dad had a pub up north," Marjorie continued. "Big enough that > I know my way around a bottle or two." She handed the drink to > Nola. "Ere ya go Miss Diamond. Mind you, it's a little strong. > No sense in drinkin' them if they're watered down." > > She turned to Warren with a cheerful smile. "What can I get you, > Officer Warren?" she queried, resting on outstretched arms on the > bar as she waited for his answer. Rumor had it that Flight Officer Warren Worthington was quite young, and his sudden flustered expression confirmed that. "Ah..." he said, his eyes moving over the bottles, centering on a bottle of brandy, "perhaps a blue flambe? It would certainly warm me up." From jvstin at gmail.com Wed Dec 22 15:09:15 2004 From: jvstin at gmail.com (Jvstin) Date: Wed Dec 22 15:09:26 2004 Subject: [MaC] At the party - Richard, Marty, Nicola, the Skeffington-Nottles In-Reply-To: <005101c4e82f$eacee0f0$2200000a@FrontDesk> References: <20041222022457.59987.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com> <005101c4e82f$eacee0f0$2200000a@FrontDesk> Message-ID: <36e1ae0304122212094f64586a@mail.gmail.com> On Wed, 22 Dec 2004 09:09:52 -0500, Katie Fulton wrote: > Marty Fitzroy was hovering - a difficult thing for a > man of his bulk to manage successfully. It was clear > that the focus of his attention was Miss Nicola > Douglas, who he was watching almost greedily. At > Richard's approach he nodded, as though distracted by > other things and then - as though struck by a > brilliant idea - he said, "Have you met Miss > Douglas yet? Miss Nicola Douglas? Would you like me > to introduce you?" > > "Of course, of course..." He offered his hand, and a > slightly crooked smile to Miss Douglas. "Charmed, > really." > > "Well, the pleasure is all =mine=, Lord Richard," > Nicola said with a sultry smile. "Such a shame that we > haven't been properly introduced yet. > > Richard continued, "But I'm afraid, old boy, your wine > steward is being tugged away for a moment. Something > about the elevator shaft, trapped guests, you know how > it is. Probably got shook in the last raid." > > "Oh, no, the poor dears," Nicola said, putting on a > sympathetic face. "I do hope Hodges can work some > magic or else we may have to move the entire party > downstairs!" > > A lady, Nicola had been told, never is the first to > rush to the scene of a fire. She therefore would have > to be satisfied with silently counting heads. Nobody > on the fifth floor would be in the lift, so that meant > the Beamans were out of harm's way. She had personally > seen Marjorie, Mr. Davis from the third floor, > Countess Arabella (which meant Lady Pamela was not in > the lift as those two were practically joined at the > hip), the Skeffington-Nottles, Officer Worthington > and- > > Suddenly, realization hit. She had seen Mrs. Evans > leaving her flat just before she started tredging up > the stairs, but the older woman had still not arrived > at the party, when it had been at least twenty minutes > since Nicola had seen her. > > It took a very quick and unladylike sip of gin to keep > her giant grin hidden from view. > > "I'm certain Hodges will make everything right." Richard took a sip of his > own drink. "Struck me as a terribly competent fellow, and even if he is > pouring, I don't think he's sampling. Nothing worse than a drunk steward, > trust me." He laughed to himself. "Reminds me of Christmas three years ago, > back home..." > "How so?" James asked, Richard, as he walked up to the small knot of people. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 22 15:17:29 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 22 15:17:54 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella and Esme References: <20041222033905.81835.qmail@web50704.mail.yahoo.com><012101c4e7da$d30407c0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><007501c4e81a$506b2790$0202a8c0@Behemoth><5.1.0.14.0.20041222085802.027a2dd0@pop.mail.yahoo.com><5.1.0.14.0.20041222142119.0278eec0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <010b01c4e85e$1aa7f040$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> Message-ID: <019501c4e863$434ef1b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> Braham could not suppress an amused chuckle. "Strong woman," he said to >> Fitzroy jokingly. His eyes never left Marjorie's back as he spoke. After >> a moment he realized he was staring and turned back to his host. >> >> "By the way, what is the emergency? Nothing too serious I hope." > > "Oh, no..." Arabella assured him. "Mrs. Evans and Mrs. Mauberly got stuck > in the lift. I'm told it happens occasionally... They don't seem to be > injured at all, but I imagine it's inconvenient and, as I said to Mr. > Fitzroy, disconcerting." She saw Pamela enter with Philip and smiled. Her > daughter looked completely appropriate for the occasion and the time... > unlike one or two of the women there. She saw Mrs. Fitzroy, looking > nervous, and it occurred to her that Mrs. Fitzroy invariably looked > nervous. "If you gentlemen will excuse me," she said with a smile, and > crossed over to their hostess. "How kind of you and your husband to > entertain us all. It's a great relief to have such an occasion so close to > home." Esme started. Sitting in her corner, she had been reading a letter that she had pulled from her handbag, it seemed. When Arabella spoke to her, it fluttered from her fingers to the floor. "Oh ... it's all Marty's doing," she said nervously. "He thought it would be a good opportunity to meet ... to meet ... well, all the people here. War is bringing us closer together, that's what Marty says." Esme didn't looked particularly overwhelemed by the proespect. From nowsounds at comcast.net Wed Dec 22 15:20:49 2004 From: nowsounds at comcast.net (Nowsounds) Date: Wed Dec 22 15:20:58 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella and Esme References: <20041222033905.81835.qmail@web50704.mail.yahoo.com><012101c4e7da$d30407c0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><007501c4e81a$506b2790$0202a8c0@Behemoth><5.1.0.14.0.20041222085802.027a2dd0@pop.mail.yahoo.com><5.1.0.14.0.20041222142119.0278eec0@pop.mail.yahoo.com><010b01c4e85e$1aa7f040$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <019501c4e863$434ef1b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <016701c4e863$ba442150$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> > > Esme started. Sitting in her corner, she had been reading a letter that > she had pulled from her handbag, it seemed. When Arabella spoke to her, > it fluttered from her fingers to the floor. > > "Oh ... it's all Marty's doing," she said nervously. "He thought it would > be a good opportunity to meet ... to meet ... well, all the people here. > War is bringing us closer together, that's what Marty says." > > Esme didn't looked particularly overwhelemed by the proespect. "Really?" Arabella said. It didn't seem like the sort of sentiment that would occur naturally to a man like Fitzroy, but perhaps there was more to him than met the eye. With one graceful movement she reached down and retrieved the fallen letter. "There you are..." She wondered why Esme Fitzroy was reading -- or re-reading -- a letter in the middle of a party... From dorothea at textartisan.com Wed Dec 22 15:48:13 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Wed Dec 22 15:50:07 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella and Esme, Pamela In-Reply-To: <016701c4e863$ba442150$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> References: <20041222033905.81835.qmail@web50704.mail.yahoo.com><012101c4e7da$d30407c0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><007501c4e81a$506b2790$0202a8c0@Behemoth><5.1.0.14.0.20041222085802.027a2dd0@pop.mail.yahoo.com><5.1.0.14.0.20041222142119.0278eec0@pop.mail.yahoo.com><010b01c4e85e$1aa7f040$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <019501c4e863$434ef1b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <016701c4e863$ba442150$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> Message-ID: <41C9DD8D.4020304@textartisan.com> > "Really?" Arabella said. It didn't seem like the sort of sentiment that > would occur naturally to a man like Fitzroy, but perhaps there was more > to him than met the eye. With one graceful movement she reached down and > retrieved the fallen letter. "There you are..." She wondered why Esme > Fitzroy was reading -- or re-reading -- a letter in the middle of a > party... Thoroughly upstaged but none the worse for that, Pamela circled the edge of the room to approach her mother and her hostess. "Mrs Fitzroy, I *am* so terribly sorry to be late," she said. "I heard Mrs Evans and Miss Mauberly in the lift, you see, and I went down for Hodges... but they're all working on it now; I daresay the captives will be released quite shortly." From jadethe2nd at yahoo.com Wed Dec 22 16:44:47 2004 From: jadethe2nd at yahoo.com (Jade) Date: Wed Dec 22 16:44:55 2004 Subject: [MaC] And so it begins ... Tabitha In-Reply-To: <41C6FB86.40504@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <20041222214447.87868.qmail@web60808.mail.yahoo.com> Tabitha hurriedly opened the door to flat #16, looked at the clock and scowled. She was, as she had feared, late for the party. She wasn't even late for a good reason; the elderly gentleman she had been caring for at the hospital had died despite her best efforts, which was what had finally allowed her to make her way home but wasn't really a story she wanted to begin the evening by telling. Sighing and unceremoniously kicking the door closed behind her, Tabitha quickly made her way into the bedroom, where she had earlier had the presence of mind to leave her dark purple cocktail dress ready to be worn. She put the dress and her rather plain but clean shoes on as quickly as possible, then tried to do her hair in a slightly less utilitarian fashion than her usual tight bun. She was not completely successful, but decided that now was really not the time to experiment. She forced her scowl away in order to apply her make-up and tried out a smile in the mirror. This would be her first real party in far too long, and despite the lonesome misery her life seemed to have become, she was determined to enjoy herself. With that in mind, she kissed the photograph of her husband and son and went upstairs to the Fitzroys' as quickly as she could manage while still looking moderately dignified. OOC: I'm so sorry for joining this late! My grandmother's messed-up computer wouldn't let me send e-mails! However, I'm home now with my own, (almost) mess-free computer. Sorry! :( __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around http://mail.yahoo.com From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Wed Dec 22 16:53:49 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Wed Dec 22 16:54:41 2004 Subject: [MaC] Joining the Fun (Pamela, Philip) In-Reply-To: <013901c4e858$d12c8b60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <011d01c4e870$bdeb4470$96f1fea9@BriansPC> > Lucinda Skeffington-Nottle turned as they came in. > > "Oh - is the lift working again now?" she asked. "Who was stuck?" > > "Not me," drawled a voice from the door. > > It was Nola Diamond, the movie actress, radiant in dark green velvet. Philip, still in the process of escorting Pamela through the door, was obviously struck by Ms. Diamond's appearance; he was, after all, a young man, and she a beautiful woman. Still, his steps faltered only slightly before he caught up to Pamela, though his eyes still followed Nola as she crossed the room. > She moved towards Braham, Marjorie, Oswald and Warren where > they stood by the drinks table. Marty Fitzroy - and everyone > else present in the room - she ignored totally. > > "A martini," she announced. "With just a whisper of vermouth. Dry, > darling, dry." "There's a thought," Philip said. "May I get you something from the bar, Pamela?" he asked. From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Wed Dec 22 16:53:49 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Wed Dec 22 16:54:43 2004 Subject: [MaC] Joining the Fun (Pamela, Philip) In-Reply-To: <41C98CAF.201@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <011e01c4e870$c0efaad0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> > Pamela left the would-be rescuers consulting with each > other in low voices and mounted stairs to the penthouse. She > stopped just outside it to brush down her dress, straighten > her jacket, and twine a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "You look splendid," Philip said reassuringly. > She took Philip's arm again, noticing that he was the > epitome of what her mother would call a Fine Young Man. "Oh, > dear," she murmured. "I seem to be making an entrance after > all." And she opened the door for them both, and preceded > Philip through it. "Afraid you'll be mistaken for an Actress?" Philip murmured with a cheeky grin. Then, face abruptly resuming a more socially acceptable friendly smile, he escorted Pamela through the door. From hmace at elfworks.com Wed Dec 22 16:55:42 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Wed Dec 22 16:55:44 2004 Subject: [MaC] Joining the Fun (Pamela, Philip) In-Reply-To: References: <41C98CAF.201@textartisan.com> <013901c4e858$d12c8b60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41C9C8E1.8020100@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <41C9ED5E.8010908@elfworks.com> >> >>She turned to Warren with a cheerful smile. "What can I get you, >>Officer Warren?" she queried, resting on outstretched arms on the >>bar as she waited for his answer. > > > Rumor had it that Flight Officer Warren Worthington was quite > young, and his sudden flustered expression confirmed that. "Ah..." > he said, his eyes moving over the bottles, centering on a > bottle of brandy, "perhaps a blue flambe? It would certainly > warm me up." Marjorie frowned. "Don't know that one I'm afraid," she said with a little frown. "Tell me what's in it and I'll put it together for you," she offered. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 22 17:46:53 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 22 17:46:40 2004 Subject: [MaC] And so it begins ... Tabitha References: <20041222214447.87868.qmail@web60808.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <01cf01c4e878$224bf7a0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> > She forced her scowl away in order to apply her > make-up and tried out a smile in the mirror. > > This would be her first real party in far too long, > and despite the lonesome misery her life seemed to > have become, she was determined to enjoy herself. > > With that in mind, she kissed the photograph of her > husband and son and went upstairs to the Fitzroys' as > quickly as she could manage while still looking > moderately dignified. > But before she could even reach the party, she encountered the chaos on the stairs. The lift had apparently jammed beyween the fourth and fifth floors - with Mrs Evans (who was now loudly singing Christmas songs) and Miss Mauberley inside. Hodges, the maintenance man, was endeavouring to open the doors on the fifth floor so that he could climb onto the roof of the lift and fix things, helped by Ctril Beaman, the businessman from the top floor, and Group Commander Michael Coldsmith-Briggs from the first floor. From dorothea at textartisan.com Wed Dec 22 17:46:55 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Wed Dec 22 17:48:46 2004 Subject: [MaC] Joining the Fun (Pamela, Philip) In-Reply-To: <011d01c4e870$bdeb4470$96f1fea9@BriansPC> References: <011d01c4e870$bdeb4470$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Message-ID: <41C9F95F.9070105@textartisan.com> > "There's a thought," Philip said. "May I get you something from the bar, > Pamela?" he asked. "In just a moment you may, and thank you... but protocol first. Mum, may I present Pilot Officer Philip Powell. Philip, my mother, Dowager Countess of Gower." She paused for all of a half-second. "Now, then, I think I'd like a sherry. How about you, Mum? Mrs Fitzroy?" From nowsounds at comcast.net Wed Dec 22 18:03:31 2004 From: nowsounds at comcast.net (Nowsounds) Date: Wed Dec 22 18:03:37 2004 Subject: [MaC] Joining the Fun (Pamela, Philip) References: <011d01c4e870$bdeb4470$96f1fea9@BriansPC> <41C9F95F.9070105@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <028101c4e87a$75329580$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> >> "There's a thought," Philip said. "May I get you something from the bar, >> Pamela?" he asked. > > "In just a moment you may, and thank you... but protocol first. Mum, may I > present Pilot Officer Philip Powell. Philip, my mother, Dowager Countess > of Gower." She paused for all of a half-second. "Now, then, I think I'd > like a sherry. How about you, Mum? Mrs Fitzroy?" "Yes, dear, a sherry sounds just right... Officer Powell, it is an honor to meet you." Arabella took in the injury that had clearly taken the young man out of the field of battle, but did not draw attention to that notice in any way. "How long have you been at Mortmain Mansions?" From veazeyae at gmail.com Wed Dec 22 18:06:13 2004 From: veazeyae at gmail.com (Allen Veazey) Date: Wed Dec 22 18:06:14 2004 Subject: [MaC] Joining the Fun (Pamela, Philip) In-Reply-To: <41C9ED5E.8010908@elfworks.com> References: <41C98CAF.201@textartisan.com> <013901c4e858$d12c8b60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41C9C8E1.8020100@elfworks.com> <41C9ED5E.8010908@elfworks.com> Message-ID: > Marjorie frowned. "Don't know that one I'm afraid," she said > with a little frown. "Tell me what's in it and I'll put it > together for you," she offered. It was diluted brandy, and a dash of bitters, and..." Warren frowned. "I don't recall the rest. Er... perhaps a gin and tonic would be better." From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Wed Dec 22 18:23:44 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Wed Dec 22 18:23:53 2004 Subject: [MaC] Joining the Fun (Pamela, Philip) In-Reply-To: <028101c4e87a$75329580$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> Message-ID: <012401c4e87d$4a926280$96f1fea9@BriansPC> >>> "There's a thought," Philip said. "May I get you something >>> from the bar, Pamela?" he asked. >> >> "In just a moment you may, and thank you... but protocol >> first. Mum, may I present Pilot Officer Philip Powell. Philip, >> my mother, Dowager Countess of Gower." She paused for all of a >> half-second. "Now, then, I think I'd like a sherry. How about >> you, Mum? Mrs Fitzroy?" > > "Yes, dear, a sherry sounds just right... Officer Powell, it > is an honor to meet you." "The pleasure is mine, Countess." Philip momentarily extended his right hand out of habit, but quickly turned the motion into a half-bow as he took the Countess' hand in his left, giving it a polite kiss. > "How long have you been at Mortmain Mansions?" "About a month now; my Great-Aunt Evangeline in Number Thirteen has been kind enough to put me up as I recuperate. I'm afraid this is my first chance to get to know any of the neighbours, and it's been rather pleasant for me so far. Less so for Great-Aunt Evangeline, I fear, but I believe Mr. Hodges has the situation well in hand, and I'm afraid I wouldn't be too much help with the repair work... "But I'm going on a bit, aren't I? My apologies. Two sherries, then, and...anything for you, Mrs. Fitzroy? Thank you so much for the invitation, by the way." From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 22 18:27:15 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 22 18:27:02 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella and Esme, Pamela References: <20041222033905.81835.qmail@web50704.mail.yahoo.com><012101c4e7da$d30407c0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><007501c4e81a$506b2790$0202a8c0@Behemoth><5.1.0.14.0.20041222085802.027a2dd0@pop.mail.yahoo.com><5.1.0.14.0.20041222142119.0278eec0@pop.mail.yahoo.com><010b01c4e85e$1aa7f040$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <019501c4e863$434ef1b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><016701c4e863$ba442150$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <41C9DD8D.4020304@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <020701c4e87d$c603a460$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> "Really?" Arabella said. It didn't seem like the sort of sentiment that >> would occur naturally to a man like Fitzroy, but perhaps there was more >> to him than met the eye. With one graceful movement she reached down and >> retrieved the fallen letter. "There you are..." She wondered why Esme >> Fitzroy was reading -- or re-reading -- a letter in the middle of a >> party... > As she passed the letter back, Arabella was only able to see one odd word 'rozzers', heavily underlined, before Esme thrust it back into her bag. > Thoroughly upstaged but none the worse for that, Pamela circled the edge > of the room to approach her mother and her hostess. "Mrs Fitzroy, I *am* > so terribly sorry to be late," she said. "I heard Mrs Evans and Miss > Mauberly in the lift, you see, and I went down for Hodges... but they're > all working on it now; I daresay the captives will be released quite > shortly." > "Oh dear," said Esme faintly. "What a thing to happen!" From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 22 18:33:31 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 22 18:33:22 2004 Subject: [MaC] Joining the Fun (Pamela, Philip) References: <41C98CAF.201@textartisan.com><013901c4e858$d12c8b60$0202a8c0@Behemoth><41C9C8E1.8020100@elfworks.com><41C9ED5E.8010908@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <021701c4e87e$a70f2f10$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> Marjorie frowned. "Don't know that one I'm afraid," she said >> with a little frown. "Tell me what's in it and I'll put it >> together for you," she offered. > > It was diluted brandy, and a dash of bitters, and..." Warren > frowned. "I don't recall the rest. Er... perhaps a gin and > tonic would be better." Just then Lucinda moved towards the bar, and the clutch purse she was carrying caught Warren a rather unexpectedly heavy blow on the arm. "Oh, I'm sorry!" she said apologetically. "I've got into the habit of putting my Webley in their when I'm off-duty." She smiled ruefyully. "I feel I should carry it, mad though it seems. Like my gas mask ... " Oswald shrugged. "It's easy enough when you''re in uniform," he agreed, indicating his own lanyard. He glanced around, as thougfh speculating which of the other guests were armed, even at this social occasion. (OOC - could people indicate if they are? The standard side arms for men and women would be Enfields or (more rarely) Webleys) From veazeyae at gmail.com Wed Dec 22 18:53:41 2004 From: veazeyae at gmail.com (Allen Veazey) Date: Wed Dec 22 18:53:43 2004 Subject: [MaC] Joining the Fun (Pamela, Philip) In-Reply-To: <021701c4e87e$a70f2f10$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <41C98CAF.201@textartisan.com> <013901c4e858$d12c8b60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41C9C8E1.8020100@elfworks.com> <41C9ED5E.8010908@elfworks.com> <021701c4e87e$a70f2f10$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: > "Oh, I'm sorry!" she said apologetically. "I've got into the habit of > putting my Webley in their when I'm off-duty." She smiled ruefyully. "I > feel I should carry it, mad though it seems. Like my gas mask ... " > > Oswald shrugged. "It's easy enough when you''re in uniform," he agreed, > indicating his own lanyard. He glanced around, as thougfh speculating which > of the other guests were armed, even at this social occasion. Warren smiled weakly, dabbed at the drink he had spilled. "Left mine in my flat this time," he said. All he was carrying was a heavy wooden cane, and he seemed to have a lot of trouble moving around even with its help. From nowsounds at comcast.net Wed Dec 22 19:01:37 2004 From: nowsounds at comcast.net (Nowsounds) Date: Wed Dec 22 19:01:47 2004 Subject: [MaC] Joining the Fun (Pamela, Philip) References: <41C98CAF.201@textartisan.com><013901c4e858$d12c8b60$0202a8c0@Behemoth><41C9C8E1.8020100@elfworks.com><41C9ED5E.8010908@elfworks.com> <021701c4e87e$a70f2f10$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <029a01c4e882$92ddd2e0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> > > "Oh, I'm sorry!" she said apologetically. "I've got into the habit of > putting my Webley in their when I'm off-duty." She smiled ruefyully. "I > feel I should carry it, mad though it seems. Like my gas mask ... " > > Oswald shrugged. "It's easy enough when you''re in uniform," he agreed, > indicating his own lanyard. He glanced around, as thougfh speculating > which of the other guests were armed, even at this social occasion. > > > (OOC - could people indicate if they are? The standard side arms for men > and women would be Enfields or (more rarely) Webleys) [OOC - I think it's safe to assume that Arabella isn't armed.] From rmpruehs at cac.net Wed Dec 22 19:01:24 2004 From: rmpruehs at cac.net (Ree Moorhead Pruehs) Date: Wed Dec 22 19:02:56 2004 Subject: [MaC] And so it begins ... Tabitha In-Reply-To: <01cf01c4e878$224bf7a0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041222214447.87868.qmail@web60808.mail.yahoo.com> <01cf01c4e878$224bf7a0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <6.2.0.14.0.20041222190026.03e4c828@mail.cac.net> At 05:46 PM 12/22/2004, Mel Mason wrote: >>She forced her scowl away in order to apply her >>make-up and tried out a smile in the mirror. >> >>This would be her first real party in far too long, >>and despite the lonesome misery her life seemed to >>have become, she was determined to enjoy herself. >> >>With that in mind, she kissed the photograph of her >>husband and son and went upstairs to the Fitzroys' as >>quickly as she could manage while still looking >>moderately dignified. > >But before she could even reach the party, she encountered the chaos on >the stairs. > >The lift had apparently jammed beyween the fourth and fifth floors - with >Mrs Evans (who was now loudly singing Christmas songs) and Miss Mauberley >inside. Hodges, the maintenance man, was endeavouring to open the doors >on the fifth floor so that he could climb onto the roof of the lift and >fix things, helped by Ctril Beaman, the businessman from the top floor, >and Group Commander Michael Coldsmith-Briggs from the first floor. "Glo---ooooo--ooo--ooooria...-in excelsis deeeeeeeoooooooo...." resounded the powerful and mostly in tune alto from the lift. From dorothea at textartisan.com Wed Dec 22 19:10:09 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Wed Dec 22 19:12:00 2004 Subject: [MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella and Esme, Pamela In-Reply-To: <020701c4e87d$c603a460$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041222033905.81835.qmail@web50704.mail.yahoo.com><012101c4e7da$d30407c0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><007501c4e81a$506b2790$0202a8c0@Behemoth><5.1.0.14.0.20041222085802.027a2dd0@pop.mail.yahoo.com><5.1.0.14.0.20041222142119.0278eec0@pop.mail.yahoo.com><010b01c4e85e$1aa7f040$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <019501c4e863$434ef1b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><016701c4e863$ba442150$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <41C9DD8D.4020304@textartisan.com> <020701c4e87d$c603a460$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41CA0CE1.5000305@textartisan.com> > "Oh dear," said Esme faintly. "What a thing to happen!" "Last I heard, they were caroling," Pamela said with a reassuring smile. "Quite in the Christmas spirit, I assure you." > "But I'm going on a bit, aren't I? My apologies. Two sherries, then, > and...anything for you, Mrs. Fitzroy? Thank you so much for the invitation, > by the way." Pamela discreetly waved him off, well aware of the difficulty of getting a straight answer from shrinking Esme. Poor lad, he wanted to be off and worship at The Actresses' shrines, and far be it from her to stop him. His going left her with empty hands; she felt odd without her little kit-bag, but God willing, she wouldn't need it here. Then she overheard Lucinda's apology to Warren, and had ado to keep dismay out of her face. Not even here could she escape guns and war, and people ghastly enough to joke about them? [ OOC: Nope. Not armed. ] From nowsounds at comcast.net Wed Dec 22 19:27:38 2004 From: nowsounds at comcast.net (Nowsounds) Date: Wed Dec 22 19:27:43 2004 Subject: [MaC] Joining the Fun (Pamela, Philip) References: <012401c4e87d$4a926280$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Message-ID: <02b401c4e886$350b2100$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> > "How long have you been at Mortmain Mansions?" "About a month now; my Great-Aunt Evangeline in Number Thirteen has been kind enough to put me up as I recuperate. I'm afraid this is my first chance to get to know any of the neighbours, and it's been rather pleasant for me so far. Less so for Great-Aunt Evangeline, I fear, but I believe Mr. Hodges has the situation well in hand, and I'm afraid I wouldn't be too much help with the repair work... "But I'm going on a bit, aren't I? My apologies. Two sherries, then, and...anything for you, Mrs. Fitzroy? Thank you so much for the invitation, by the way." "Oh, I'm quite certain that your aunt is thrilled to have you with her," Arabella said. Not to mention out of harm's way, she thought to herself. This young man had clearly given quite enough to the war effort. She wondered how she would deal with it if such a thing happened to Edmund, then shook off the fear. Not that it would stay away forever, but it didn't help matters to dwell, especially now, with the Fitzroys doing their best to keep their neighbors in something of a festive mood... From hmace at elfworks.com Wed Dec 22 19:31:33 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Wed Dec 22 19:31:32 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the bar In-Reply-To: References: <41C98CAF.201@textartisan.com> <013901c4e858$d12c8b60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41C9C8E1.8020100@elfworks.com> <41C9ED5E.8010908@elfworks.com> <021701c4e87e$a70f2f10$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41CA11E5.1040003@elfworks.com> >> >>Oswald shrugged. "It's easy enough when you''re in uniform," he agreed, >>indicating his own lanyard. He glanced around, as thougfh speculating which >>of the other guests were armed, even at this social occasion. > > > Warren smiled weakly, dabbed at the drink he had spilled. > "Left mine in my flat this time," he said. All he was > carrying was a heavy wooden cane, and he seemed to > have a lot of trouble moving around even with its help. Marjorie in the meantime was mixing something with brandy, some cream, and some dark thick liquor. "Here... this'll warm you up and loosen up those joints of yours." She reached over and took the half empty glass from Warren and put the new one in easy reach. "Right! Now... what will you have Mrs. Skeffington-Nottle?" Marjorie asked. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 22 20:10:28 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 22 20:12:35 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the bar References: <41C98CAF.201@textartisan.com> <013901c4e858$d12c8b60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41C9C8E1.8020100@elfworks.com> <41C9ED5E.8010908@elfworks.com> <021701c4e87e$a70f2f10$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41CA11E5.1040003@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <025d01c4e88c$30d16030$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >>>Oswald shrugged. "It's easy enough when you''re in uniform," he agreed, >>>indicating his own lanyard. He glanced around, as thougfh speculating >>>which >>>of the other guests were armed, even at this social occasion. >> >> >> Warren smiled weakly, dabbed at the drink he had spilled. >> "Left mine in my flat this time," he said. All he was carrying was a >> heavy wooden cane, and he seemed to >> have a lot of trouble moving around even with its help. > > Marjorie in the meantime was mixing something with brandy, > some cream, and some dark thick liquor. "Here... this'll > warm you up and loosen up those joints of yours." She > reached over and took the half empty glass from Warren > and put the new one in easy reach. > > "Right! Now... what will you have Mrs. Skeffington-Nottle?" > Marjorie asked. > "Just a gin and tonic," said Lucinda. "Marjorie, are you sure you're all right doing this? You've been on your feet all day ... " She looked at the other woman with some concern. From hmace at elfworks.com Wed Dec 22 20:24:40 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Wed Dec 22 20:24:41 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the bar In-Reply-To: <025d01c4e88c$30d16030$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <41C98CAF.201@textartisan.com> <013901c4e858$d12c8b60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41C9C8E1.8020100@elfworks.com> <41C9ED5E.8010908@elfworks.com> <021701c4e87e$a70f2f10$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41CA11E5.1040003@elfworks.com> <025d01c4e88c$30d16030$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41CA1E58.2070108@elfworks.com> >> >> Marjorie in the meantime was mixing something with brandy, >> some cream, and some dark thick liquor. "Here... this'll >> warm you up and loosen up those joints of yours." She >> reached over and took the half empty glass from Warren >> and put the new one in easy reach. >> >> "Right! Now... what will you have Mrs. Skeffington-Nottle?" >> Marjorie asked. >> > "Just a gin and tonic," said Lucinda. "Marjorie, are you sure you're > all right doing this? You've been on your feet all day ... " > > She looked at the other woman with some concern. "I'm fine!" Marjorie declared, even as she discretely shifted from one foot to the other. "I've tended bar before... you're always on your feet. Gin... and tonic. There ya are, Mrs. Skeffington-Nottle." Marjorie placed a glass of clear liquid and ice with a lime twist on the edge on the bar. "Though... if one of you gents wants to pass me around one of those stools over there I'd be ever so grateful..." From nowsounds at comcast.net Wed Dec 22 20:51:08 2004 From: nowsounds at comcast.net (Nowsounds) Date: Wed Dec 22 20:51:37 2004 Subject: [MaC] OOC - Where Is Marie-Claire? Message-ID: <038c01c4e891$df819550$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> Due to a sudden change in my family's holiday plans, I'll be traveling tomorrow and gone until some time Sunday. I will check for posts tomorrow morning before I leave and should be able to check in at least once on Friday. My posts may not be perfectly timely, but I'll do my best. M-C -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041222/30b60b43/attachment.htm From windeaglebjm at yahoo.com Wed Dec 22 22:25:19 2004 From: windeaglebjm at yahoo.com (Brenda McCartney) Date: Wed Dec 22 22:25:22 2004 Subject: [MaC] Outside Number One Flat: Pamela and Philip In-Reply-To: Message-ID: <20041223032519.89311.qmail@web50702.mail.yahoo.com> --- "Pruehs, Ree M." wrote: > > > > -----Original Message----- > > From: murder_at_christmas-bounces@gamera.cc > > [mailto:murder_at_christmas-bounces@gamera.cc] On Behalf Of > > Dorothea Salo > > Sent: Wednesday, December 22, 2004 8:48 AM > > To: Knave of Amber; murder_at_christmas@gamera.cc > > Subject: Re: [MaC] Outside Number One Flat: Pamela and Philip > > > > > > > "Perhaps Lady Hutchinson and Pilot Officer Powell would be > > so kind as > > > to go reassure the ladies that we've the situation well in > > hand," the > > > senior officer suggested. > > > > "Why, certainly," Pamela said. "Do send up progress > > reports when you can." > > In the meantime, Vangie was saying to Marion, "I don't suppose we > should > start up a rousing sing-along." On the floor above the ladies, Cyril Beaman had taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. He smiled down at them through the grille. "If you do, ladies, I'd be happy to add my tenor," he joked, keeping the mood light. __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! Mail - Helps protect you from nasty viruses. http://promotions.yahoo.com/new_mail From windeaglebjm at yahoo.com Wed Dec 22 22:28:46 2004 From: windeaglebjm at yahoo.com (Brenda McCartney) Date: Wed Dec 22 22:28:49 2004 Subject: [MaC] In the Lift - Vangie and Marion In-Reply-To: <41C9957F.CB212B00@erols.com> Message-ID: <20041223032846.83212.qmail@web50704.mail.yahoo.com> --- Margaret Dean wrote: > "Pruehs, Ree M." wrote: > > > > > > In the meantime, Vangie was saying to Marion, "I don't suppose > we > > > > should start up a rousing sing-along." > > > > > > "Christmas carols and the like, you mean?" Marion asked, amused. > > > "That should certainly, um, inspire them to get us out of > > > here quickly." Though she loved music, Marion knew quite > > > well that her singing voice left much to be desired. > > > > "Yes, exactly." said Vangie. "However, they will in any case keep > up > > =our= spirits, don't you think?" There was a wicked twinkle in her > eyes > > as she added "One must, after all, uphold the best traditions of > the > > Women's Institute..." > > > > In what turned out to be not a terrifically bad (or, it must be > > confessed, not terrifically good) alto she launched into > "Jerusalem." > > > > "And did those feet in ancient time / Walk upon England's mountains > > green? / And was the Holy Lamb of God / On England's pleasant > pastures > > seen...?" > > Marion shrugged, and joined in at about the third line. Beaman laughed and joined in as well, adding his tenor to the chorus. > __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Jazz up your holiday email with celebrity designs. Learn more. http://celebrity.mail.yahoo.com From windeaglebjm at yahoo.com Wed Dec 22 22:34:42 2004 From: windeaglebjm at yahoo.com (Brenda McCartney) Date: Wed Dec 22 22:34:45 2004 Subject: [MaC] Fixing the Lift In-Reply-To: <143.3b5280ef.2efb157f@aol.com> Message-ID: <20041223033442.78630.qmail@web50707.mail.yahoo.com> --- Mrfury28@aol.com wrote: > "Mr. Beaman, can you assist me? We're going to have to disable the > doors, > then head up to the fifth floor to repair the detached chain there." > Hodges > pointed out the damage to Cyril. Cyril rose from his knees and squinted toward the chain Hodges indicated. "Certainly, sir. You know the lift and I know tools. You just tell me what you need me to do." __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around http://mail.yahoo.com From jjkatalenic at yahoo.com Thu Dec 23 00:56:17 2004 From: jjkatalenic at yahoo.com (Jonathan Katalenic) Date: Thu Dec 23 00:56:19 2004 Subject: [MaC] Joining the Fun (Pamela, Philip) In-Reply-To: <013901c4e858$d12c8b60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <20041223055617.56198.qmail@web20223.mail.yahoo.com> "Oh - is the lift working again now?" she asked. "Who was stuck?" "Not me," drawled a voice from the door. It was Nola Diamond, the movie actress, radiant in dark green velvet. "Nicola," she said, in a tone devoid of expression. "Darling." She advanced into the room, her hands held out towards the American, drawing her close o kiss the air either side of her face. "How lovely to see you." "Nola, darling, you had everybody worried. We were about to send out a search party," Nicola said in her normal tone of voice. As Nola passed to kiss the air on her left cheek, Nicola whispered fiercely, "You are not yourself and I don't know what is going on, but I am going to find out, Nola. You can't hide things from me forever." "God, I need a drink," Nola said without reacting to Nicola's threat. She moved towards Braham, Marjorie, Oswald and Warren where they stood by the drinks table. Marty Fitzroy - and everyone else present in the room - she ignored totally. __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Jazz up your holiday email with celebrity designs. Learn more. http://celebrity.mail.yahoo.com From jjkatalenic at yahoo.com Thu Dec 23 01:03:46 2004 From: jjkatalenic at yahoo.com (Jonathan Katalenic) Date: Thu Dec 23 01:03:48 2004 Subject: [MaC] At the party - Richard, Marty, Nicola, the Skeffington-Nottles In-Reply-To: <36e1ae0304122212094f64586a@mail.gmail.com> Message-ID: <20041223060347.94207.qmail@web20221.mail.yahoo.com> "I'm certain Hodges will make everything right." Richard took a sip of his own drink. "Struck me as a terribly competent fellow, and even if he is pouring, I don't think he's sampling. Nothing worse than a drunk steward, trust me." He laughed to himself. "Reminds me of Christmas three years ago, back home..." "How so?" James asked, Richard, as he walked up to the small knot of people. "Yes, do tell us, darling - I love holiday stories!" Nicola said. Discretely, she kept one eye on Nola while listening to what Lord Richard had to say. __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Send a seasonal email greeting and help others. Do good. http://celebrity.mail.yahoo.com From Mrfury28 at aol.com Thu Dec 23 01:41:10 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Thu Dec 23 01:41:23 2004 Subject: [MaC] Fixing the Lift Message-ID: <13d.92954e3.2efbc286@aol.com> Cyril rose from his knees and squinted toward the chain Hodges indicated. "Certainly, sir. You know the lift and I know tools. You just tell me what you need me to do." "Thank you Mr. Beaman. And I'm certain that the Group Captain can assist us as well." Hodges gave Michael a nod. With that, the elderly repairman went to work, pausing only to ask one man or the other to hand him something from his clanky toolbox. -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041223/c38f9e08/attachment.htm From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Thu Dec 23 04:23:14 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Thu Dec 23 04:24:30 2004 Subject: [MaC] The Lift is Fixed! References: <13d.92954e3.2efbc286@aol.com> Message-ID: <004501c4e8d1$084cdb40$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Cyril rose from his knees and squinted toward the chain Hodges indicated. "Certainly, sir. You know the lift and I know tools. You just tell me what you need me to do." "Thank you Mr. Beaman. And I'm certain that the Group Captain can assist us as well." Hodges gave Michael a nod. With that, the elderly repairman went to work, pausing only to ask one man or the other to hand him something from his clanky toolbox. With the aid of Mr Beaman, who showed a great facility for the skills, and the appearance of some unexpectedly ingenious tools from the Group Captain, Hodges was soon able to fix the lift, so that Hodges scrambled clear, the lift was restarted, and Mrs Evans and Miss Mauberley were triumphantly released. Then, accompanied by Tabitha Rosen who had paused to watch, the whole group were able to make a triumph entrance to the cocktail party, quite eclipsing the arrival of Nola Diamond, who was already on her second martini. From jvstin at mindspring.com Thu Dec 23 06:05:02 2004 From: jvstin at mindspring.com (Jvstin(Mindspring)) Date: Thu Dec 23 06:05:15 2004 Subject: [MaC] At the party - Richard, Marty, Nicola, the Skeffington-Nottles In-Reply-To: <20041223060347.94207.qmail@web20221.mail.yahoo.com> References: <20041223060347.94207.qmail@web20221.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <41CAA65E.3010703@mindspring.com> on 12/23/2004 12:03 AM Jonathan Katalenic said the following: > "I'm certain Hodges will make everything right." > Richard took a sip of his own drink. "Struck me as a > terribly competent fellow, and even if he is pouring, > I don't think he's sampling. Nothing worse than a > drunk steward, trust me." He laughed to himself. > "Reminds me of Christmas three years ago, back > home..." > > "How so?" James asked, Richard, as he walked up to the > small knot of people. > > "Yes, do tell us, darling - I love holiday stories!" > Nicola said. Discretely, she kept one eye on Nola > while listening to what Lord Richard had to say. > James turned to the sound of Nicola's voice. "Miss Douglas." he said with the largest smile he had displayed at the party yet. He gave a nod and then turned his attention back to Richard for his answer. > listening in on the conversation> > From windeaglebjm at yahoo.com Thu Dec 23 06:34:39 2004 From: windeaglebjm at yahoo.com (Brenda McCartney) Date: Thu Dec 23 06:34:43 2004 Subject: [MaC] Fixing the Lift In-Reply-To: <13d.92954e3.2efbc286@aol.com> Message-ID: <20041223113439.67525.qmail@web50701.mail.yahoo.com> --- Mrfury28@aol.com wrote: > > Cyril rose from his knees and squinted toward the chain Hodges > indicated. > "Certainly, sir. You know the lift and I know tools. You just tell > me what you > need me to do." > > "Thank you Mr. Beaman. And I'm certain that the Group Captain can > assist us > as well." Hodges gave Michael a nod. With that, the elderly > repairman went > to work, pausing only to ask one man or the other to hand him > something from > his clanky toolbox. With one ear open for tool requests, Cyril turned to Michael. "Ah, Commander. You made it back from your travels, I see. Not much to come back to lately, I fear." __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Meet the all-new My Yahoo! - Try it today! http://my.yahoo.com From nowsounds at comcast.net Thu Dec 23 08:34:22 2004 From: nowsounds at comcast.net (Nowsounds) Date: Thu Dec 23 08:34:30 2004 Subject: [MaC] The Lift is Fixed! References: <13d.92954e3.2efbc286@aol.com> <004501c4e8d1$084cdb40$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <003101c4e8f4$1d635590$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> > With the aid of Mr Beaman, who showed a great facility for the skills, and > the appearance of some unexpectedly ingenious tools from the Group > Captain, Hodges was soon able to fix the lift, so that Hodges scrambled > clear, the lift was restarted, and Mrs Evans and Miss Mauberley were > triumphantly released. Then, accompanied by Tabitha Rosen who had paused > to watch, the whole group were able to make a triumph entrance to the > cocktail party, quite eclipsing the arrival of Nola Diamond, who was > already on her second martini. At the sight of them, Arabella excused herself from her little group and came to greet them. "My dear," she said to Evangeline Evans. "Was it very disconcerting? I was just talking to your nephew -- what a fine young man." She turned with an equally admiring smile to Marion Mauberley. "Miss Mauberly... I trust we'll see some such incident, properly exaggerated, in a future work?" From rpruehs at Itctransco.com Thu Dec 23 09:23:00 2004 From: rpruehs at Itctransco.com (Pruehs, Ree M.) Date: Thu Dec 23 09:22:48 2004 Subject: [MaC] The Lift is Fixed! Message-ID: > > With the aid of Mr Beaman, who showed a great facility for > the skills, > > and > > the appearance of some unexpectedly ingenious tools from the Group > > Captain, Hodges was soon able to fix the lift, so that > Hodges scrambled > > clear, the lift was restarted, and Mrs Evans and Miss > Mauberley were > > triumphantly released. Then, accompanied by Tabitha Rosen > who had paused > > to watch, the whole group were able to make a triumph > entrance to the > > cocktail party, quite eclipsing the arrival of Nola > Diamond, who was > > already on her second martini. > > At the sight of them, Arabella excused herself from her > little group and > came to greet them. "My dear," she said to Evangeline Evans. > "Was it very > disconcerting? I was just talking to your nephew -- what a > fine young man." Vangie smiled at her. "I could not agree more," she said warmly, then chuckled and added, "And now I want a drink. I think we've earned it!" > She turned with an equally admiring smile to Marion Mauberley. "Miss > Mauberly... I trust we'll see some such incident, properly > exaggerated, in a > future work?" From faespinner at yahoo.com Thu Dec 23 09:49:00 2004 From: faespinner at yahoo.com (Tara Kunkel) Date: Thu Dec 23 09:49:25 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the bar In-Reply-To: <41CA1E58.2070108@elfworks.com> References: <025d01c4e88c$30d16030$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41C98CAF.201@textartisan.com> <013901c4e858$d12c8b60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41C9C8E1.8020100@elfworks.com> <41C9ED5E.8010908@elfworks.com> <021701c4e87e$a70f2f10$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41CA11E5.1040003@elfworks.com> <025d01c4e88c$30d16030$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <5.1.0.14.0.20041223094638.0287d4c8@pop.mail.yahoo.com> >"I'm fine!" Marjorie declared, even as she discretely shifted >from one foot to the other. "I've tended bar before... you're >always on your feet. Gin... and tonic. There ya are, Mrs. >Skeffington-Nottle." Marjorie placed a glass of clear liquid >and ice with a lime twist on the edge on the bar. > >"Though... if one of you gents wants to pass me around one >of those stools over there I'd be ever so grateful..." Braham was moving towards them before she finished the sentence. He hefted it easily as he gently excused his way through the party goers. "There you are," he announced placing it down gently beside her. "Is there anything else I can do for you?" From margdean at erols.com Thu Dec 23 09:57:19 2004 From: margdean at erols.com (Margaret Dean) Date: Thu Dec 23 09:58:21 2004 Subject: [MaC] The Lift is Fixed! References: Message-ID: <41CADCCF.E4B5820E@erols.com> "Pruehs, Ree M." wrote: > > > > With the aid of Mr Beaman, who showed a great facility for > > > the skills, and the appearance of some unexpectedly ingenious > > > tools from the Group Captain, Hodges was soon able to fix the > > > lift, so that Hodges scrambled clear, the lift was restarted, > > > and Mrs Evans and Miss Mauberley were triumphantly released. > > > Then, accompanied by Tabitha Rosen who had paused to watch, > > > the whole group were able to make a triumph entrance to the > > > cocktail party, quite eclipsing the arrival of Nola Diamond, > > > who was already on her second martini. > > > > At the sight of them, Arabella excused herself from her > > little group and came to greet them. "My dear," she said to > > Evangeline Evans. "Was it very disconcerting? I was just > > talking to your nephew -- what a fine young man." > > Vangie smiled at her. "I could not agree more," she said warmly, then > chuckled and added, "And now I want a drink. I think we've earned it!" > > > She turned with an equally admiring smile to Marion Mauberley. > > "Miss Mauberly... I trust we'll see some such incident, properly > > exaggerated, in a future work?" Marion laughed. "And with the names suitably obscured ... possibly. But =with,=" she added wickedly, darting a sidelong grin at Vangie, "every carol in its proper place. And due credit given to =all= our rescuers." She moved over to greet Esme. "Mrs. Fitzroy, I am sorry to be late, but the circumstances were unavoidable." --Margaret Dean From rpruehs at Itctransco.com Thu Dec 23 10:22:21 2004 From: rpruehs at Itctransco.com (Pruehs, Ree M.) Date: Thu Dec 23 10:22:09 2004 Subject: [MaC] The Lift is Fixed! Message-ID: > > > > With the aid of Mr Beaman, who showed a great facility for the > > > > skills, and the appearance of some unexpectedly ingenious tools > > > > from the Group Captain, Hodges was soon able to fix the > lift, so > > > > that Hodges scrambled clear, the lift was restarted, > and Mrs Evans > > > > and Miss Mauberley were triumphantly released. Then, > accompanied > > > > by Tabitha Rosen who had paused to watch, the whole group were > > > > able to make a triumph entrance to the cocktail party, quite > > > > eclipsing the arrival of Nola Diamond, who was already on her > > > > second martini. > > > > > > At the sight of them, Arabella excused herself from her > little group > > > and came to greet them. "My dear," she said to Evangeline Evans. > > > "Was it very disconcerting? I was just talking to your nephew -- > > > what a fine young man." > > > > Vangie smiled at her. "I could not agree more," she said > warmly, then > > chuckled and added, "And now I want a drink. I think we've > earned it!" > > > > > She turned with an equally admiring smile to Marion > Mauberley. "Miss > > > Mauberly... I trust we'll see some such incident, properly > > > exaggerated, in a future work?" > > Marion laughed. "And with the names suitably obscured ... > possibly. But =with,=" she added wickedly, darting a > sidelong grin at Vangie, "every carol in its proper place." Vangie put a hand to her mouth to hide her grin, but her chuckle was audible. > "And due credit given to =all= our rescuers," [Marion continued.] "Amen," said Vangie fervently. > [Marion] moved over to greet Esme. "Mrs. Fitzroy, I am sorry to > be late, but the circumstances were unavoidable." Vangie followed her compatriot-in-the-lift, laughing as she assured their hostess "Truly they were..." It was the first time she had ever come close enough to Esme Fitzroy to get a really good look at her face. She blinked, then quickly recovered and said, "It was quite the little adventure!" > From veazeyae at gmail.com Thu Dec 23 10:25:50 2004 From: veazeyae at gmail.com (Allen Veazey) Date: Thu Dec 23 10:25:56 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the bar In-Reply-To: <5.1.0.14.0.20041223094638.0287d4c8@pop.mail.yahoo.com> References: <41C98CAF.201@textartisan.com> <41C9ED5E.8010908@elfworks.com> <021701c4e87e$a70f2f10$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41CA11E5.1040003@elfworks.com> <025d01c4e88c$30d16030$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41CA1E58.2070108@elfworks.com> <5.1.0.14.0.20041223094638.0287d4c8@pop.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: > Braham was moving towards them before she finished the sentence. He hefted > it easily as he gently excused his way through the party goers. "There you > are," he announced placing it down gently beside her. "Is there anything > else I can do for you?" Warren had been about to move off his own stool, but settled back upon it with a relieved look. "Thank you," he said to Braham. From dorothea at textartisan.com Thu Dec 23 10:29:36 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Thu Dec 23 10:31:32 2004 Subject: [MaC] The Lift is Fixed! In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: <41CAE460.7020506@textartisan.com> >>[Marion] moved over to greet Esme. "Mrs. Fitzroy, I am sorry to >>be late, but the circumstances were unavoidable." > > > Vangie followed her compatriot-in-the-lift, laughing as she assured > their hostess "Truly they were..." It was the first time she had ever > come close enough to Esme Fitzroy to get a really good look at her face. > She blinked, then quickly recovered and said, "It was quite the little > adventure!" Pamela stepped in to say the proper things, to spare Esme. "And it ends in the best possible way, with the princesses living happily ever after," she said. "May we expect your brave rescuers shortly?" From jadethe2nd at yahoo.com Thu Dec 23 10:57:38 2004 From: jadethe2nd at yahoo.com (Jade) Date: Thu Dec 23 10:57:46 2004 Subject: [MaC] The Lift is Fixed! In-Reply-To: <41CAE460.7020506@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <20041223155738.74911.qmail@web60808.mail.yahoo.com> --- Dorothea Salo wrote: > >>[Marion] moved over to greet Esme. "Mrs. Fitzroy, > I am sorry to > >>be late, but the circumstances were unavoidable." > > > > > > Vangie followed her compatriot-in-the-lift, > laughing as she assured > > their hostess "Truly they were..." It was the > first time she had ever > > come close enough to Esme Fitzroy to get a really > good look at her face. > > She blinked, then quickly recovered and said, "It > was quite the little > > adventure!" > > Pamela stepped in to say the proper things, to > spare Esme. "And it ends > in the best possible way, with the princesses living > happily ever > after," she said. "May we expect your brave rescuers > shortly?" > "Please forgive my lateness as well, Mrs. Fitzroy," said Tabitha, studying the hostess' face for slightly longer than necessary. "Things were rather hectic at the hospital, I'm afr..." she trailed off, suddenly realising where she had seen Esme Fitzroy before. She swallowed. "Now, please forgive me, but I haven't had anything to drink since lunch," she said quickly, heading over to where Marion was tending bar and hoping that no one had noticed her shock. __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Read only the mail you want - Yahoo! Mail SpamGuard. http://promotions.yahoo.com/new_mail From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Thu Dec 23 11:11:00 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Thu Dec 23 11:11:08 2004 Subject: [MaC] Joining the Fun (Pamela, Philip) In-Reply-To: <021701c4e87e$a70f2f10$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <014201c4e90a$0153f240$96f1fea9@BriansPC> > (OOC - could people indicate if they are? The standard side > arms for men and women would be Enfields or (more rarely) Webleys) Philip does have a Webley strapped on as part of his uniform, though it's on his right side, where his injury would probably make it difficult to draw and impossible to fire. From kcunningham40 at comcast.net Thu Dec 23 11:18:30 2004 From: kcunningham40 at comcast.net (kcunningham40@comcast.net) Date: Thu Dec 23 11:18:34 2004 Subject: [MaC] Wiki Down Message-ID: <122320041618.22728.41CAEFD600081CBA000058C82200751150CFCB030E0809020702029A0C05@comcast.net> We seem to have a little problem with the Wiki... It'll be down for a bit. I'm contacting other big brains on how to rectify the situation. Files are still intact, though, just unreachable. Katie From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Thu Dec 23 11:29:31 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Thu Dec 23 11:29:38 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the bar In-Reply-To: Message-ID: <014301c4e90c$978b88c0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Philip, the young airman with the wounded arm, slid into the increasing crowd around the bar, winding up next to Nola Diamond. "Good evening," he said to Marjorie. "I'll need two sherries -- I'll pour those, you look to have your hands full -- and an old-fashioned for me, I think." As he began work on the sherries, working slowly but carefully with his left hand, he said, "Good evening, Miss Diamond. How are things for you this fine evening?" From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Thu Dec 23 11:54:52 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Thu Dec 23 11:56:07 2004 Subject: [MaC] Wiki Down References: <122320041618.22728.41CAEFD600081CBA000058C82200751150CFCB030E0809020702029A0C05@comcast.net> Message-ID: <009901c4e910$1f8e8940$0202a8c0@Behemoth> > We seem to have a little problem with the Wiki... It'll be down for a bit. > I'm contacting other big brains on how to rectify the situation. Files are > still intact, though, just unreachable. > As a stopgap, I've put the log files up on Katoe's bulletin board (for those who can use it) at: http://www.amberpbem.net/ipw-web/bulletin/bb/viewtopic.php?p=18427#18427 And I'm about to create the Whodunnit poll on the MaC Chat list ... ;-) Mel From kcunningham40 at comcast.net Thu Dec 23 11:59:46 2004 From: kcunningham40 at comcast.net (Katie Fulton) Date: Thu Dec 23 12:00:06 2004 Subject: [MaC] At the party - Richard, Marty, Nicola, the Skeffington-Nottles References: <20041223060347.94207.qmail@web20221.mail.yahoo.com> <41CAA65E.3010703@mindspring.com> Message-ID: <011b01c4e910$d87aede0$2200000a@FrontDesk> > "I'm certain Hodges will make everything right." > Richard took a sip of his own drink. "Struck me as a > terribly competent fellow, and even if he is pouring, > I don't think he's sampling. Nothing worse than a > drunk steward, trust me." He laughed to himself. > "Reminds me of Christmas three years ago, back > home..." > > "How so?" James asked, Richard, as he walked up to the > small knot of people. > > "Yes, do tell us, darling - I love holiday stories!" > Nicola said. Discretely, she kept one eye on Nola > while listening to what Lord Richard had to say. > James turned to the sound of Nicola's voice. "Miss Douglas." he said with the largest smile he had displayed at the party yet. He gave a nod and then turned his attention back to Richard for his answer. Richard seemed to smile a bit brigher with every new face that joined their cluster. "Oh, really, it's nothing... but if you insist..." He set his drink aside. "I suppose it was three or four years ago-- Yes, when Winston had the flu, and couldn't attend us on Christmas. He sent his son instead, since the rest of the staff was already too harried to worry about our imbibement. "Jack, the boy's name was, and he was just shy of eighteen. Bright eyed chap, but I feared his father bore down on him a bit too much. Every time Mother so much as coughed, he was cringing, and every time he slopped a bit I swore he looked like he had killed someone. So, feeling the generosity of the season, I told him he should crack one of the other years of wine and have a taste, to calm his nerves. We'd be giving it to the servants anyway, so what was the harm? "The boy took a sip, and he did seem a bit calmer, so we carried on. Dinner was running late, so we had more time to drink, and drink we did. I wasn't keeping an eye on our steward, naturally, having an eye on someone my mother had some idea to marry me to..." From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Thu Dec 23 12:05:54 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Thu Dec 23 12:05:38 2004 Subject: [MaC] Wiki Down ... and Poll Up! References: <122320041618.22728.41CAEFD600081CBA000058C82200751150CFCB030E0809020702029A0C05@comcast.net> <009901c4e910$1f8e8940$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <009f01c4e911$a9b87350$0202a8c0@Behemoth> The poll for this year's murderer is now up at: http://games.groups.yahoo.com/group/mac_chat/polls Mel From kcunningham40 at comcast.net Thu Dec 23 12:55:54 2004 From: kcunningham40 at comcast.net (Katie Fulton) Date: Thu Dec 23 12:55:58 2004 Subject: [MaC] Wiki Down References: <122320041618.22728.41CAEFD600081CBA000058C82200751150CFCB030E0809020702029A0C05@comcast.net> <009901c4e910$1f8e8940$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <019c01c4e918$a67244d0$2200000a@FrontDesk> And the Wiki is back up! The gremlins were pushed back! Katie ----- Original Message ----- From: "Mel Mason" To: Sent: Thursday, December 23, 2004 11:54 AM Subject: Re: [MaC] Wiki Down > We seem to have a little problem with the Wiki... It'll be down for a bit. > I'm contacting other big brains on how to rectify the situation. Files are > still intact, though, just unreachable. > As a stopgap, I've put the log files up on Katoe's bulletin board (for those who can use it) at: http://www.amberpbem.net/ipw-web/bulletin/bb/viewtopic.php?p=18427#18427 And I'm about to create the Whodunnit poll on the MaC Chat list ... ;-) Mel _______________________________________________ murder_at_christmas mailing list murder_at_christmas@gamera.cc http://gamera.cc/mailman/listinfo/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Thu Dec 23 13:30:59 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Thu Dec 23 13:31:00 2004 Subject: [MaC] The Lift is Fixed! References: <20041223155738.74911.qmail@web60808.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <00c801c4e91d$8ce68ee0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> > Vangie followed her compatriot-in-the-lift, >> laughing as she assured >> > their hostess "Truly they were..." It was the >> first time she had ever >> > come close enough to Esme Fitzroy to get a really >> good look at her face. >> > She blinked, then quickly recovered and said, "It >> was quite the little >> > adventure!" >> >> Pamela stepped in to say the proper things, to >> spare Esme. "And it ends >> in the best possible way, with the princesses living >> happily ever >> after," she said. "May we expect your brave rescuers >> shortly?" >> The brave rescuers had, in fact, now entered the lounge and were heading tiwards the bar - Michael and Cyril to collect drinks, and Hodges to return to his duties (presumably). > "Please forgive my lateness as well, Mrs. Fitzroy," > said Tabitha, studying the hostess' face for slightly > longer than necessary. "Things were rather hectic at > the hospital, I'm afr..." she trailed off, suddenly > realising where she had seen Esme Fitzroy before. She > swallowed. "Now, please forgive me, but I haven't had > anything to drink since lunch," she said quickly, > heading over to where Marion was tending bar and > hoping that no one had noticed her shock. > Esme seemed to shrink back sligghtly as they addressed her. "Oh ... yes ... no need to apologise," she said hurriedly. She stood up quickly. "If ... you'll just excuse me," she said, and she headed towards the stairs down to the lower level, leaving her handbag behind. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Thu Dec 23 13:34:38 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Thu Dec 23 13:34:35 2004 Subject: [MaC] The Lift is Fixed! References: <41CADCCF.E4B5820E@erols.com> Message-ID: <00d301c4e91e$0f0ff050$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> > She turned with an equally admiring smile to Marion Mauberley. >> > "Miss Mauberly... I trust we'll see some such incident, properly >> > exaggerated, in a future work?" > > Marion laughed. "And with the names suitably obscured ... > possibly. But =with,=" she added wickedly, darting a sidelong > grin at Vangie, "every carol in its proper place. And due credit > given to =all= our rescuers." > > She moved over to greet Esme. "Mrs. Fitzroy, I am sorry to be > late, but the circumstances were unavoidable." > "That's quite all right," said Esme, and then watched with a little apprehension as Mrs Evans and Miss Rosen moved towards her. Anton Barowenski moved towards Marion. "There was an accident?" he asked. "And all three of you were trapped? But you are all right ... uninjured?" There was a sharp edge to his tone. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Thu Dec 23 13:39:35 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Thu Dec 23 13:39:33 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the bar References: <014301c4e90c$978b88c0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Message-ID: <00d401c4e91e$c0712df0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> > Philip, the young airman with the wounded arm, slid into the increasing > crowd around the bar, winding up next to Nola Diamond. "Good evening," he > said to Marjorie. "I'll need two sherries -- I'll pour those, you look to > have your hands full -- and an old-fashioned for me, I think." As he began > work on the sherries, working slowly but carefully with his left hand, he > said, "Good evening, Miss Diamond. How are things for you this fine > evening?" > She turned and looked at him a little blindly, as though she wasn't really seeing him. "Oh, why can't people leave me alone?" she said petulantly, turning away. She thrust her empty Martini glass towards Marjorie (who was still behind the bar). "Here - another one." But Marty Fitzroy seemed to notice this slight altercation and came striding across. "You've had enough," he said curtly. She laughed - that famous peal that had entranced audiences across half the globe. "Enough? I've barely even started!" There was defiance in her face as she confronted him, and his own face reddened with rage, his fists slowlyly clenching. But it was he who looked away first. "Someone take her away and sober her up," he muttered. From veazeyae at gmail.com Thu Dec 23 13:47:30 2004 From: veazeyae at gmail.com (Allen Veazey) Date: Thu Dec 23 13:47:36 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the bar In-Reply-To: <00d401c4e91e$c0712df0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <014301c4e90c$978b88c0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> <00d401c4e91e$c0712df0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: > There was defiance in her face as she confronted him, and his own face > reddened with rage, his fists slowlyly clenching. But it was he who looked > away first. > > "Someone take her away and sober her up," he muttered. Warren's eyes were bird-bright as he took in the scene, but he didn't say anything; instead, he let his attention wander, watching the others arrive from their ordeal at the lift. From margdean at erols.com Thu Dec 23 13:47:11 2004 From: margdean at erols.com (Margaret Dean) Date: Thu Dec 23 13:48:11 2004 Subject: [MaC] The Lift is Fixed! References: <41CADCCF.E4B5820E@erols.com> <00d301c4e91e$0f0ff050$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41CB12AF.FE5D85F6@erols.com> Mel Mason wrote: > > >> > She turned with an equally admiring smile to Marion Mauberley. > >> > "Miss Mauberly... I trust we'll see some such incident, properly > >> > exaggerated, in a future work?" > > > > Marion laughed. "And with the names suitably obscured ... > > possibly. But =with,=" she added wickedly, darting a sidelong > > grin at Vangie, "every carol in its proper place. And due credit > > given to =all= our rescuers." > > > > She moved over to greet Esme. "Mrs. Fitzroy, I am sorry to be > > late, but the circumstances were unavoidable." > > "That's quite all right," said Esme, and then watched with a little > apprehension as Mrs Evans and Miss Rosen moved towards her. > > Anton Barowenski moved towards Marion. > > "There was an accident?" he asked. "And all three of you were trapped? > But you are all right ... uninjured?" There was a sharp edge to his tone. "Just Mrs. Evans and I were in the lift when it stopped," Marion assured him. "And we're quite all right." She smiled at him. "You didn't hear us singing? Just as well, I suppose. =That= would have been painful." --Margaret Dean From hmace at elfworks.com Thu Dec 23 13:51:54 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Thu Dec 23 13:51:56 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the bar In-Reply-To: References: <41C98CAF.201@textartisan.com> <41C9ED5E.8010908@elfworks.com> <021701c4e87e$a70f2f10$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41CA11E5.1040003@elfworks.com> <025d01c4e88c$30d16030$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41CA1E58.2070108@elfworks.com> <5.1.0.14.0.20041223094638.0287d4c8@pop.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <41CB13CA.9080200@elfworks.com> >>Braham was moving towards them before she finished the sentence. He hefted >>it easily as he gently excused his way through the party goers. "There you >>are," he announced placing it down gently beside her. "Is there anything >>else I can do for you?" > > > Warren had been about to move off his own stool, but > settled back upon it with a relieved look. "Thank you," > he said to Braham. "Nah!" Marjorie grinned as she took the stool and sat down on it. "That's ever so much better. My feet... ah, you don't want to hear about my feet. You want another drink! What'll it be, Mr. Davis?" From hmace at elfworks.com Thu Dec 23 13:56:53 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Thu Dec 23 13:56:54 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the bar In-Reply-To: References: <014301c4e90c$978b88c0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> <00d401c4e91e$c0712df0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41CB14F5.2020409@elfworks.com> > "Oh, why can't people leave me alone?" she said petulantly, turning > away. She thrust her empty Martini glass towards Marjorie (who was still > behind the bar). "Here - another one." "... Right. 'Nother one coming up, Miss Diamond," Marjorie said with a touch of surprise. She took the glass and started to mix another one, much weaker this time. > But Marty Fitzroy seemed to notice this slight altercation and came > striding across. > > "You've had enough," he said curtly. > > She laughed - that famous peal that had entranced audiences across half > the globe. > > "Enough? I've barely even started!" > >>There was defiance in her face as she confronted him, and his own face >>reddened with rage, his fists slowlyly clenching. But it was he who looked >>away first. >> >>"Someone take her away and sober her up," he muttered. > > > Warren's eyes were bird-bright as he took in the scene, but > he didn't say anything; instead, he let his attention wander, > watching the others arrive from their ordeal at the lift. Marjorie shook her head indignantly. "He's no right to be talking to you like that," she said to Nola. "You're a movie star! You're someone important! And you're his guest! Pay him no mind, Miss Diamond. Here ya go..." Marjorie put the refill on the counter. "Why don't you stay with us awhile here? I'd love to hear about your next movie!" From Mrfury28 at aol.com Thu Dec 23 14:11:40 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Thu Dec 23 14:11:49 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the Bar Message-ID: <1d8.333058f7.2efc726c@aol.com> Marjorie shook her head indignantly. "He's no right to be talking to you like that," she said to Nola. "You're a movie star! You're someone important! And you're his guest! Pay him no mind, Miss Diamond. Here ya go..." Marjorie put the refill on the counter. "Why don't you stay with us awhile here? I'd love to hear about your next movie!" "Please Miss Higgins..." Hodges interceded, "with the lift fixed, I'm free to return to 'active duty'." He deftly pushed the glass out of Nola's reach and began to move back behind the table to resume his duites as server. -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041223/0d6b6108/attachment.htm From dorothea at textartisan.com Thu Dec 23 14:21:26 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Thu Dec 23 14:23:26 2004 Subject: [MaC] The Lift is Fixed! In-Reply-To: <00c801c4e91d$8ce68ee0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041223155738.74911.qmail@web60808.mail.yahoo.com> <00c801c4e91d$8ce68ee0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41CB1AB6.8060804@textartisan.com> > Esme seemed to shrink back sligghtly as they addressed her. > > "Oh ... yes ... no need to apologise," she said hurriedly. She stood up > quickly. > > "If ... you'll just excuse me," she said, and she headed towards the > stairs down to the lower level, leaving her handbag behind. Pamela's first impulse was to go after her, but Philip had not yet come back with the sherries, and to abandon him would be horribly rude, especially (she now saw) after his ill-treatment at The Actresses' hands. She picked up the handbag instead, holding it between elbow and side as though it were her own kit-bag, and endeavoured to smooth the rough waters. "Poor dear; the war has us all on edge, as usual," she said. "I hope she's not had ill news. I worry so for -- for my brother Edmund that I cringe at every knock on our door." From rpruehs at Itctransco.com Thu Dec 23 14:27:05 2004 From: rpruehs at Itctransco.com (Pruehs, Ree M.) Date: Thu Dec 23 14:27:01 2004 Subject: [MaC] The Lift is Fixed! Message-ID: > > Esme seemed to shrink back sligghtly as they addressed her. > > > > "Oh ... yes ... no need to apologise," she said hurriedly. > She stood > > up > > quickly. > > > > "If ... you'll just excuse me," she said, and she headed towards the > > stairs down to the lower level, leaving her handbag behind. > > Pamela's first impulse was to go after her, but Philip > had not yet come > back with the sherries, and to abandon him would be horribly rude, > especially (she now saw) after his ill-treatment at The > Actresses' hands. > > She picked up the handbag instead, holding it between > elbow and side as > though it were her own kit-bag, and endeavoured to smooth the rough > waters. "Poor dear; the war has us all on edge, as usual," > she said. "I > hope she's not had ill news. I worry so for -- for my brother Edmund > that I cringe at every knock on our door." "Ye-es," said Vangie thoughtfully, watching Esme's retreating back. "It's enough to keep anyone on tenterhooks. I think I'll just go to see if she's all right." And with that she followed their departed hostess. > From hmace at elfworks.com Thu Dec 23 14:30:06 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Thu Dec 23 14:30:11 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the Bar In-Reply-To: <1d8.333058f7.2efc726c@aol.com> References: <1d8.333058f7.2efc726c@aol.com> Message-ID: <41CB1CBE.7080105@elfworks.com> > > "Please Miss Higgins..." Hodges interceded, "with the lift fixed, I'm > free to return to 'active duty'." He deftly pushed the glass out of > Nola's reach and began to move back behind the table to resume his > duites as server. Marjorie's jaw dropped as she watched Mr. Hodges move Nola's glass away from the actress. She stood up and picked up her stool with a huff. "You're not going to get very many tips acting like that," she whispered to the handyman as she moved out from behind the bar. She plunked the stool down next to Warren. "Might as well watch the floor show from here," she said, nodding to Warren and Braham. From dorothea at textartisan.com Thu Dec 23 14:31:06 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Thu Dec 23 14:33:04 2004 Subject: [MaC] The Lift is Fixed! In-Reply-To: References: Message-ID: <41CB1CFA.9070101@textartisan.com> > "Ye-es," said Vangie thoughtfully, watching Esme's retreating back. > "It's enough to keep anyone on tenterhooks. I think I'll just go to see > if she's all right." "Perhaps you'll take this to her, then, if you don't mind," Pamela said, quickly holding out the handbag. "I don't think she meant to leave it." > And with that she followed their departed hostess. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Thu Dec 23 14:34:00 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Thu Dec 23 14:33:56 2004 Subject: [MaC] The Lift is Fixed! References: Message-ID: <012f01c4e926$5a7591a0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> > She picked up the handbag instead, holding it between > elbow and side as > though it were her own kit-bag, and endeavoured to smooth the rough > waters. "Poor dear; the war has us all on edge, as usual," > she said. "I > hope she's not had ill news. I worry so for -- for my brother Edmund > that I cringe at every knock on our door." "Ye-es," said Vangie thoughtfully, watching Esme's retreating back. "It's enough to keep anyone on tenterhooks. I think I'll just go to see if she's all right." And with that she followed their departed hostess. And vanished from view ... From faespinner at yahoo.com Thu Dec 23 14:38:57 2004 From: faespinner at yahoo.com (Tara Kunkel) Date: Thu Dec 23 14:39:32 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the Bar: Marjorie, Warren & Braham In-Reply-To: <41CB1CBE.7080105@elfworks.com> References: <1d8.333058f7.2efc726c@aol.com> <1d8.333058f7.2efc726c@aol.com> Message-ID: <5.1.0.14.0.20041223143412.02761080@pop.mail.yahoo.com> At 02:30 PM 12/23/2004, you wrote: >> >>"Please Miss Higgins..." Hodges interceded, "with the lift fixed, I'm >>free to return to 'active duty'." He deftly pushed the glass out of >>Nola's reach and began to move back behind the table to resume his duites >>as server. > >Marjorie's jaw dropped as she watched Mr. Hodges move Nola's glass >away from the actress. She stood up and picked up her stool with >a huff. "You're not going to get very many tips acting like that," >she whispered to the handyman as she moved out from behind the bar. > >She plunked the stool down next to Warren. "Might as well watch >the floor show from here," she said, nodding to Warren and Braham. "Exactly what I was thinking," Braham replied quietly. "Shows with this much promise are few and far between." The American finished the remnants of his cocktail but refrained from ordering a second for the moment. He looked over at Warren, "I'm Braham by the way," he said offering a hand. "I don't think we've had the chance to be properly introduced." [Tag: Warren & Marjorie] From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Thu Dec 23 14:32:04 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Thu Dec 23 14:39:38 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the Bar References: <1d8.333058f7.2efc726c@aol.com> Message-ID: <012601c4e926$155d4680$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Marjorie shook her head indignantly. "He's no right to be talking to you like that," she said to Nola. "You're a movie star! You're someone important! And you're his guest! Pay him no mind, Miss Diamond. Here ya go..." Marjorie put the refill on the counter. "Why don't you stay with us awhile here? I'd love to hear about your next movie!" "Oh God," sighed Nola. "Why do dreary little people have to keep going on and on about my movies?" She made a grab towards her drink, but someone intervened. "Please Miss Higgins..." Hodges interceded, "with the lift fixed, I'm free to return to 'active duty'." He deftly pushed the glass out of Nola's reach and began to move back behind the table to resume his duites as server. Nola glared at him. "May you rot in hell," she said deliberately, and turned, walking away from him. From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Thu Dec 23 14:41:01 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Thu Dec 23 14:41:08 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the bar In-Reply-To: <41CB14F5.2020409@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <014c01c4e927$58959190$96f1fea9@BriansPC> >> "Oh, why can't people leave me alone?" she said petulantly, >> turning away. She thrust her empty Martini glass towards >> Marjorie (who was still behind the bar). "Here - another >> one." > > "... Right. 'Nother one coming up, Miss Diamond," Marjorie > said with a touch of surprise. She took the glass and > started to mix another one, much weaker this time. Setting the sherry bottle down rather more heavily than was strictly necessary, Philip carefully gathered the stems of the two filled sherry glasses in his left hand. "I'll come back for mine," he said brusquely, and returned to Pamela and the Countess without giving Nola another glance. From Mrfury28 at aol.com Thu Dec 23 14:42:45 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Thu Dec 23 14:42:59 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the Bar Message-ID: She made a grab towards her drink, but someone intervened. "Please Miss Higgins..." Hodges interceded, "with the lift fixed, I'm free to return to 'active duty'." He deftly pushed the glass out of Nola's reach and began to move back behind the table to resume his duites as server. Nola glared at him. "May you rot in hell," she said deliberately, and turned, walking away from him. Apparently unconcerned with Miss Higgins' advice and Nola's insult, Hodges resumed his place behind the bar. -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041223/0a6b56b6/attachment.htm From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Thu Dec 23 14:44:41 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Thu Dec 23 14:44:53 2004 Subject: [MaC] The Lift is Fixed! In-Reply-To: <41CB1AB6.8060804@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <014d01c4e927$dba645c0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Philip returned shortly after Evangeline's departure, bearing two glasses of sherry precariously (but with no sign of spillage) in his left hand. "Countess, Pamela," he said, offering the drinks to each person. "I thought I saw Great-Aunt Evangeline over here...is she feeling quite all right after the Lift Incident?" He spoke absently, as though his mind was still on Nola Diamond's rudeness, and he was apparently making some effort not to look back at the bar area. From hmace at elfworks.com Thu Dec 23 14:45:54 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Thu Dec 23 14:45:59 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the Bar In-Reply-To: <012601c4e926$155d4680$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <1d8.333058f7.2efc726c@aol.com> <012601c4e926$155d4680$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41CB2072.20904@elfworks.com> > > "Oh God," sighed Nola. "Why do dreary little people have to keep going > on and on about my movies?" Marjorie frowned at Nola. "Geeze... I just wanted.." she started when.. > She made a grab towards her drink, but someone intervened. > > "Please Miss Higgins..." Hodges interceded, "with the lift fixed, I'm > free to return to 'active duty'." He deftly pushed the glass out of > Nola's reach and began to move back behind the table to resume his > duites as server. > > Nola glared at him. "May you rot in hell," she said deliberately, and > turned, walking away from him. From jvstin at gmail.com Thu Dec 23 15:00:29 2004 From: jvstin at gmail.com (Jvstin) Date: Thu Dec 23 15:00:32 2004 Subject: [MaC] At the party - Richard, Marty, Nicola, the Skeffington-Nottles In-Reply-To: <011b01c4e910$d87aede0$2200000a@FrontDesk> References: <20041223060347.94207.qmail@web20221.mail.yahoo.com> <41CAA65E.3010703@mindspring.com> <011b01c4e910$d87aede0$2200000a@FrontDesk> Message-ID: <36e1ae03041223120054f9582f@mail.gmail.com> On Thu, 23 Dec 2004 11:59:46 -0500, Katie Fulton wrote: > > "I'm certain Hodges will make everything right." > > Richard took a sip of his own drink. "Struck me as a > > terribly competent fellow, and even if he is pouring, > > I don't think he's sampling. Nothing worse than a > > drunk steward, trust me." He laughed to himself. > > "Reminds me of Christmas three years ago, back > > home..." > > > > "How so?" James asked, Richard, as he walked up to the > > small knot of people. > > > > "Yes, do tell us, darling - I love holiday stories!" > > Nicola said. Discretely, she kept one eye on Nola > > while listening to what Lord Richard had to say. > > > James turned to the sound of Nicola's voice. "Miss Douglas." he said > with the largest smile he had displayed at the party yet. He gave a nod > and then turned his attention back to Richard for his answer. > > Richard seemed to smile a bit brigher with every new face that joined their > cluster. "Oh, really, it's nothing... but if you insist..." He set his drink > aside. > > "I suppose it was three or four years ago-- Yes, when Winston had the flu, > and couldn't attend us on Christmas. He sent his son instead, since the rest > of the staff was already too harried to worry about our imbibement. > > "Jack, the boy's name was, and he was just shy of eighteen. Bright eyed > chap, but I feared his father bore down on him a bit too much. Every time > Mother so much as coughed, he was cringing, and every time he slopped a bit > I swore he looked like he had killed someone. So, feeling the generosity of > the season, I told him he should crack one of the other years of wine and > have a taste, to calm his nerves. We'd be giving it to the servants anyway, > so what was the harm? > > "The boy took a sip, and he did seem a bit calmer, so we carried on. Dinner > was running late, so we had more time to drink, and drink we did. I wasn't > keeping an eye on our steward, naturally, having an eye on someone my mother > had some idea to marry me to..." > James chuckled at this last. "Someone worth keeping an eye on, for a change?" He grinned and gestured for Richard to continue. James surveyed the knot of people listening to the story with him and returned to looking at the story teller. From veazeyae at gmail.com Thu Dec 23 15:03:06 2004 From: veazeyae at gmail.com (Allen Veazey) Date: Thu Dec 23 15:03:07 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the Bar: Marjorie, Warren & Braham In-Reply-To: <5.1.0.14.0.20041223143412.02761080@pop.mail.yahoo.com> References: <1d8.333058f7.2efc726c@aol.com> <41CB1CBE.7080105@elfworks.com> <5.1.0.14.0.20041223143412.02761080@pop.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: > The American finished the remnants of his cocktail but refrained from > ordering a second for the moment. He looked over at Warren, "I'm Braham by > the way," he said offering a hand. "I don't think we've had the chance to > be properly introduced." > "Warren Worthington." Warren shook his hand, returning a rather boyish smile. "Yes... you live just upstairs of me, don't you? Pleased to meet you." He smiled at Marjorie, too, and added, "I'm new, here... just staying in my uncle's flat until I go back on duty. I've met Miss Higgins, of course, but haven't really had the opportunity to get out much." From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Thu Dec 23 15:08:11 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Thu Dec 23 15:07:55 2004 Subject: [MaC] Marty issues orders References: <41CADCCF.E4B5820E@erols.com> <00d301c4e91e$0f0ff050$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41CB12AF.FE5D85F6@erols.com> Message-ID: <016c01c4e92b$20d6cc70$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> >> > She turned with an equally admiring smile to Marion Mauberley. >> >> > "Miss Mauberly... I trust we'll see some such incident, properly >> >> > exaggerated, in a future work?" >> > >> > Marion laughed. "And with the names suitably obscured ... >> > possibly. But =with,=" she added wickedly, darting a sidelong >> > grin at Vangie, "every carol in its proper place. And due credit >> > given to =all= our rescuers." >> > >> > She moved over to greet Esme. "Mrs. Fitzroy, I am sorry to be >> > late, but the circumstances were unavoidable." >> >> "That's quite all right," said Esme, and then watched with a little >> apprehension as Mrs Evans and Miss Rosen moved towards her. >> >> Anton Barowenski moved towards Marion. >> >> "There was an accident?" he asked. "And all three of you were trapped? >> But you are all right ... uninjured?" There was a sharp edge to his >> tone. > > "Just Mrs. Evans and I were in the lift when it stopped," Marion > assured him. "And we're quite all right." She smiled at him. > "You didn't hear us singing? Just as well, I suppose. =That= > would have been painful." > Anton smiled, a little perfunctorily. "Believe me, our hosts idea of music ... " He broke off as Marty Fitzroy came striding across the room. "Oi ... Barowenski! You was goin' to play. What aren't you playin'?" Anton drew himself up to his full height and then bowed, very Polish, with his heels clicking together. "If you command." "Yes," said Marty. "I do. And take the service entrace - that way you can go across the top floor without having to go down and up again. And leave the doors open so we can hear you." Only Marion was close enough to see the muscle jump in Anton's cheek as he listened to these instructions. But various people could see how rigidly he was standing, as though he were barely holding himself in check. "Very well," he said, and turned. "If you will excuse me, Miss Mauberley." From dorothea at textartisan.com Thu Dec 23 15:21:16 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Thu Dec 23 15:23:12 2004 Subject: [MaC] The Lift is Fixed! In-Reply-To: <014d01c4e927$dba645c0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> References: <014d01c4e927$dba645c0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Message-ID: <41CB28BC.8080602@textartisan.com> Brian Schoner wrote: > Philip returned shortly after Evangeline's departure, bearing two glasses of > sherry precariously (but with no sign of spillage) in his left hand. > "Countess, Pamela," he said, offering the drinks to each person. Pamela put the disdained handbag back under her arm, thanked him kindly, and took her glass. "I thought > I saw Great-Aunt Evangeline over here...is she feeling quite all right after > the Lift Incident?" He spoke absently, as though his mind was still on Nola > Diamond's rudeness, and he was apparently making some effort not to look > back at the bar area. "She's fine," Pamela assured him. "She's gone to look after Mrs Fitzroy. She moves very quickly, your aunt; I picked up Mrs. Fitzroy's handbag and was going to give it to her to take with her, but she was gone before I had three words out of my mouth!" From margdean at erols.com Thu Dec 23 15:26:33 2004 From: margdean at erols.com (Margaret Dean) Date: Thu Dec 23 15:27:34 2004 Subject: [MaC] Marty issues orders References: <41CADCCF.E4B5820E@erols.com> <00d301c4e91e$0f0ff050$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41CB12AF.FE5D85F6@erols.com> <016c01c4e92b$20d6cc70$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41CB29F9.4833AC90@erols.com> Mel Mason wrote: > >> Anton Barowenski moved towards Marion. > >> > >> "There was an accident?" he asked. "And all three of you were trapped? > >> But you are all right ... uninjured?" There was a sharp edge to his > >> tone. > > > > "Just Mrs. Evans and I were in the lift when it stopped," Marion > > assured him. "And we're quite all right." She smiled at him. > > "You didn't hear us singing? Just as well, I suppose. =That= > > would have been painful." > > Anton smiled, a little perfunctorily. > > "Believe me, our hosts idea of music ... " > > He broke off as Marty Fitzroy came striding across the room. > > "Oi ... Barowenski! You was goin' to play. What aren't you playin'?" > > Anton drew himself up to his full height and then bowed, very Polish, with > his heels clicking together. > > "If you command." > > "Yes," said Marty. "I do. And take the service entrace - that way you can > go across the top floor without having to go down and up again. And leave > the doors open so we can hear you." > > Only Marion was close enough to see the muscle jump in Anton's cheek as he > listened to these instructions. But various people could see how rigidly he > was standing, as though he were barely holding himself in check. > > "Very well," he said, and turned. "If you will excuse me, Miss Mauberley." Marion regarded him for a moment, then stepped back a little. "Certainly, Mr. Barowenski," she said, while directing a cold look at Marty Fitzroy. When Barowenski had moved off, she said to Fitzroy, "Was that really necessary? Mr. Barowenski is an artist, not a ... a hireling!" --Margaret Dean From faespinner at yahoo.com Thu Dec 23 16:13:41 2004 From: faespinner at yahoo.com (Tara Kunkel) Date: Thu Dec 23 16:14:04 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the Bar: Marjorie, Warren & Braham In-Reply-To: References: <5.1.0.14.0.20041223143412.02761080@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <1d8.333058f7.2efc726c@aol.com> <41CB1CBE.7080105@elfworks.com> <5.1.0.14.0.20041223143412.02761080@pop.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <5.1.0.14.0.20041223160930.00c5c528@pop.mail.yahoo.com> At 03:03 PM 12/23/2004, you wrote: > > The American finished the remnants of his cocktail but refrained from > > ordering a second for the moment. He looked over at Warren, "I'm Braham by > > the way," he said offering a hand. "I don't think we've had the chance to > > be properly introduced." > > > >"Warren Worthington." Warren shook his hand, returning a rather >boyish smile. "Yes... you live just upstairs of me, don't you? Pleased >to meet you." He smiled at Marjorie, too, and added, "I'm >new, here... just staying in my uncle's flat until I go back >on duty. I've met Miss Higgins, of course, but haven't really >had the opportunity to get out much." "Miss Higgins tells me I don't get out much either," Braham says jokingly. "But I'm fairly new here myself, as you can probably tell." He does have a rather think American accent. Those who know the states would probably put him in the Northeastern part of the US, New York perhaps. "Deciding to study abroad during a way might not have been one of my better ideas. Still, I'm glad I came. It's been nothing if not interesting." From jadethe2nd at yahoo.com Thu Dec 23 17:03:17 2004 From: jadethe2nd at yahoo.com (Jade) Date: Thu Dec 23 17:03:22 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the Bar In-Reply-To: <41CB2072.20904@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <20041223220317.43088.qmail@web60805.mail.yahoo.com> --- Heather Mace wrote: > > > > "Oh God," sighed Nola. "Why do dreary little > people have to keep going > > on and on about my movies?" > > Marjorie frowned at Nola. "Geeze... I just > wanted.." she started when.. > > > She made a grab towards her drink, but someone > intervened. > > > > "Please Miss Higgins..." Hodges interceded, "with > the lift fixed, I'm > > free to return to 'active duty'." He deftly > pushed the glass out of > > Nola's reach and began to move back behind the > table to resume his > > duites as server. > > > > Nola glared at him. "May you rot in hell," she > said deliberately, and > > turned, walking away from him. > Tabitha raised her eyebrows as she watched Nola's retreat. Then she turned to Hodges. "Could I get a large brandy?" she asked. She smiled at the other guests in the bar area and was dismayed to find that this required more effort than usual. __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! Mail - Helps protect you from nasty viruses. http://promotions.yahoo.com/new_mail From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Thu Dec 23 17:36:41 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Thu Dec 23 17:36:48 2004 Subject: [MaC] Marty issues orders References: <41CADCCF.E4B5820E@erols.com><00d301c4e91e$0f0ff050$0202a8c0@Behemoth><41CB12AF.FE5D85F6@erols.com> <016c01c4e92b$20d6cc70$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41CB29F9.4833AC90@erols.com> Message-ID: <01a801c4e93f$dff8c310$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> Anton drew himself up to his full height and then bowed, very Polish, >> with >> his heels clicking together. >> >> "If you command." >> >> "Yes," said Marty. "I do. And take the service entrace - that way you >> can >> go across the top floor without having to go down and up again. And >> leave >> the doors open so we can hear you." >> >> Only Marion was close enough to see the muscle jump in Anton's cheek as >> he >> listened to these instructions. But various people could see how rigidly >> he >> was standing, as though he were barely holding himself in check. >> >> "Very well," he said, and turned. "If you will excuse me, Miss >> Mauberley." > > Marion regarded him for a moment, then stepped back a little. > "Certainly, Mr. Barowenski," she said, while directing a cold > look at Marty Fitzroy. > > When Barowenski had moved off, she said to Fitzroy, "Was that > really necessary? Mr. Barowenski is an artist, not a ... a > hireling!" > Marty turned away, scowling, but Nola Diamond said mockingly, "Have you realised yet, darling? We're all just commodities to Mr Fitzroy. He weighs us out and sells us - just like he used to do the fruit and veg down in Stepney." She walked away towards stairs that led to the lower floor. Lucinda moved towards Marty "Is it wide to have the doors open between the two flats?" she asked. "What about the blackout?" Fitzroy had moved away - it didn't seem as though he was listening to her. From hmace at elfworks.com Thu Dec 23 19:33:30 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Thu Dec 23 19:33:32 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the Bar In-Reply-To: <20041223220317.43088.qmail@web60805.mail.yahoo.com> References: <20041223220317.43088.qmail@web60805.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <41CB63DA.8000105@elfworks.com> >>> >>>Nola glared at him. "May you rot in hell," she >> >>said deliberately, and >> >>>turned, walking away from him. >> > > > Tabitha raised her eyebrows as she watched Nola's > retreat. Then she turned to Hodges. "Could I get a > large brandy?" she asked. She smiled at the other > guests in the bar area and was dismayed to find that > this required more effort than usual. > > > [Folding this into the bar conversation...] From hmace at elfworks.com Thu Dec 23 19:37:09 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Thu Dec 23 19:37:14 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the Bar: Marjorie, Warren & Braham In-Reply-To: <5.1.0.14.0.20041223160930.00c5c528@pop.mail.yahoo.com> References: <5.1.0.14.0.20041223143412.02761080@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <1d8.333058f7.2efc726c@aol.com> <41CB1CBE.7080105@elfworks.com> <5.1.0.14.0.20041223143412.02761080@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <5.1.0.14.0.20041223160930.00c5c528@pop.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <41CB64B5.7030809@elfworks.com> > > > "Miss Higgins tells me I don't get out much either," Braham says > jokingly. "But I'm fairly new here myself, as you can probably tell." He > does have a rather think American accent. Those who know the states > would probably put him in the Northeastern part of the US, New York > perhaps. "Deciding to study abroad during a way might not have been one > of my better ideas. Still, I'm glad I came. It's been nothing if not > interesting." > Tabitha raised her eyebrows as she watched Nola's > retreat. Then she turned to Hodges. "Could I get a > large brandy?" she asked. She smiled at the other > guests in the bar area and was dismayed to find that > this required more effort than usual. "Interesting... right," Marjorie said half dismissively. "And here I though we were going to see fancy people with proper manners and all that. Pshaw.." she said as she too watched Nola walk away. Then she looked at Tabitha. "You're Mrs. Rosen, right? The nurse that works over at the Royal Hospital?" From Mrfury28 at aol.com Thu Dec 23 19:40:10 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Thu Dec 23 19:40:14 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the Bar Message-ID: Then she turned to Hodges. "Could I get a large brandy?" she asked. She smiled at the other guests in the bar area and was dismayed to find that this required more effort than usual. "Of course." Unperturbed, Hodges filled a snifter half full. "There you are, miss." -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041223/6643824a/attachment.htm From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Thu Dec 23 19:42:06 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Thu Dec 23 19:42:08 2004 Subject: [MaC] The Lift is Fixed! In-Reply-To: <41CB28BC.8080602@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <015501c4e951$64f35d30$96f1fea9@BriansPC> > "She's fine," Pamela assured him. "She's gone to look after Mrs > Fitzroy. She moves very quickly, your aunt; I picked up Mrs. > Fitzroy's handbag and was going to give it to her to take with her, > but she was gone before I had three words out of my mouth!" "I should say 'decisively,' rather than necessarily 'quickly,' but I know what you mean," Philip agreed. He still seemed somewhat distracted. "Pardon me; I'm headed back to the bar to see whether Mr. Hodges is as handy with an old-fashioned as he is with a lift." From dorothea at textartisan.com Thu Dec 23 20:01:31 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Thu Dec 23 20:03:25 2004 Subject: [MaC] The Lift is Fixed! In-Reply-To: <015501c4e951$64f35d30$96f1fea9@BriansPC> References: <015501c4e951$64f35d30$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Message-ID: <41CB6A6B.4020002@textartisan.com> > "I should say 'decisively,' rather than necessarily 'quickly,' but I know > what you mean," Philip agreed. He still seemed somewhat distracted. "Pardon > me; I'm headed back to the bar to see whether Mr. Hodges is as handy with an > old-fashioned as he is with a lift." "Of course," said Pamela. "Thank you again, sir." Since the circle around her and Arabella had thinned so, Pamela looked around for another to join. A not-entirely-disinterested nudge from her mother sent Pamela into Lord Richard's orbit. When the flow of conversation permitted, Pamela bade Lord Richard good evening, adding the urbane inquiry, "Have you heard from your sister lately?" From margdean at erols.com Thu Dec 23 20:14:54 2004 From: margdean at erols.com (Margaret Dean) Date: Thu Dec 23 20:15:51 2004 Subject: [MaC] Marty issues orders References: <41CADCCF.E4B5820E@erols.com><00d301c4e91e$0f0ff050$0202a8c0@Behemoth><41CB12AF.FE5D85F6@erols.com> <016c01c4e92b$20d6cc70$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41CB29F9.4833AC90@erols.com> <01a801c4e93f$dff8c310$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41CB6D8E.578D762A@erols.com> Mel Mason wrote: > > >> Anton drew himself up to his full height and then bowed, very Polish, > >> with his heels clicking together. > >> > >> "If you command." > >> > >> "Yes," said Marty. "I do. And take the service entrance - that way > >> you can go across the top floor without having to go down and up again. > >> And leave the doors open so we can hear you." > >> > >> Only Marion was close enough to see the muscle jump in Anton's cheek > >> as he listened to these instructions. But various people could see > >> how rigidly he was standing, as though he were barely holding himself > >> in check. > >> > >> "Very well," he said, and turned. "If you will excuse me, Miss > >> Mauberley." > > > > Marion regarded him for a moment, then stepped back a little. > > "Certainly, Mr. Barowenski," she said, while directing a cold > > look at Marty Fitzroy. > > > > When Barowenski had moved off, she said to Fitzroy, "Was that > > really necessary? Mr. Barowenski is an artist, not a ... a > > hireling!" > > Marty turned away, scowling, but Nola Diamond said mockingly, "Have you > realised yet, darling? We're all just commodities to Mr Fitzroy. He > weighs us out and sells us - just like he used to do the fruit and veg > down in Stepney." > > She walked away towards stairs that led to the lower floor. Marion turned abruptly away from Fitzroy and headed for the bar, though not without a glance toward the open door from which Barowenski's music would presumably come. > Lucinda moved towards Marty > > "Is it wise to have the doors open between the two flats?" she asked. "What > about the blackout?" > > Fitzroy had moved away - it didn't seem as though he was listening to her. --Margaret Dean From margdean at erols.com Thu Dec 23 20:17:40 2004 From: margdean at erols.com (Margaret Dean) Date: Thu Dec 23 20:18:35 2004 Subject: [MaC] Joining the Fun (Pamela, Philip) References: <014201c4e90a$0153f240$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Message-ID: <41CB6E34.23D40D4A@erols.com> Brian Schoner wrote: > > > (OOC - could people indicate if they are? The standard side > > arms for men and women would be Enfields or (more rarely) Webleys) > > Philip does have a Webley strapped on as part of his uniform, though it's on > his right side, where his injury would probably make it difficult to draw > and impossible to fire. Marion often carries a derringer but she probably wouldn't have it at the party. --Margaret From windeaglebjm at yahoo.com Thu Dec 23 21:27:54 2004 From: windeaglebjm at yahoo.com (Brenda McCartney) Date: Thu Dec 23 21:27:57 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the Bar In-Reply-To: Message-ID: <20041224022754.36753.qmail@web50704.mail.yahoo.com> --- Mrfury28@aol.com wrote: > She made a grab towards her drink, but someone intervened. > > "Please Miss Higgins..." Hodges interceded, "with the lift fixed, > I'm free > to return to 'active duty'." He deftly pushed the glass out of > Nola's reach > and began to move back behind the table to resume his duites as > server. > > Nola glared at him. "May you rot in hell," she said deliberately, > and > turned, walking away from him. > > Apparently unconcerned with Miss Higgins' advice and Nola's insult, > Hodges > resumed his place behind the bar. Cyril leaned at the end of the bar and watched the exchange and Nola's huffy departure with an amused smirk. "Actresses. They're so touchy. Always on stage, they are," he said to Hodges. "You got a towel back there, Hodges?" Cyril asked, examining the dirt on his hands. __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around http://mail.yahoo.com From windeaglebjm at yahoo.com Thu Dec 23 21:40:44 2004 From: windeaglebjm at yahoo.com (Brenda McCartney) Date: Thu Dec 23 21:40:47 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the Bar In-Reply-To: Message-ID: <20041224024044.39998.qmail@web50704.mail.yahoo.com> --- Mrfury28@aol.com wrote: > Then she turned to Hodges. "Could I get a large brandy?" she asked. > She > smiled at the other guests in the bar area and was dismayed to find > that this > required more effort than usual. > > "Of course." Unperturbed, Hodges filled a snifter half full. "There > you are, > miss." Cyril turned to Tabitha. "Good evening, Mrs. Rosen. How's the lad doing out in Somerset?" he asked in a grandfatherly way. __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around http://mail.yahoo.com From jjkatalenic at yahoo.com Thu Dec 23 22:24:15 2004 From: jjkatalenic at yahoo.com (Jonathan Katalenic) Date: Thu Dec 23 22:24:17 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the Bar In-Reply-To: <012601c4e926$155d4680$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <20041224032415.96527.qmail@web20221.mail.yahoo.com> Marjorie shook her head indignantly. "He's no right to be talking to you like that," she said to Nola. "You're a movie star! You're someone important! And you're his guest! Pay him no mind, Miss Diamond. Here ya go..." Marjorie put the refill on the counter. "Why don't you stay with us awhile here? I'd love to hear about your next movie!" "Oh God," sighed Nola. "Why do dreary little people have to keep going on and on about my movies?" She made a grab towards her drink, but someone intervened. "Please Miss Higgins..." Hodges interceded, "with the lift fixed, I'm free to return to 'active duty'." He deftly pushed the glass out of Nola's reach and began to move back behind the table to resume his duites as server. Nola glared at him. "May you rot in hell," she said deliberately, and turned, walking away from him. Nicola watched this exchange from across the room and couldn't help wincing. 'Oh, Nola, let's not do that, PLEASE. Not tonight,' she thought to herself. She didn't dare approach Nola- with the mood the girl was in, there was sure to be nothing short of a hair-pulling cat fight if she confronted her. She turned her attention back to the group she was in, returning James Drake's smile with a warm one of her own. __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! Mail - You care about security. So do we. http://promotions.yahoo.com/new_mail From jjkatalenic at yahoo.com Thu Dec 23 22:33:57 2004 From: jjkatalenic at yahoo.com (Jonathan Katalenic) Date: Thu Dec 23 22:33:59 2004 Subject: [MaC] Richard, Pamela, Nicola and James socializing In-Reply-To: <41CB6A6B.4020002@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <20041224033357.71144.qmail@web20226.mail.yahoo.com> "I should say 'decisively,' rather than necessarily 'quickly,' but I know what you mean," Philip agreed. He still seemed somewhat distracted. "Pardon me; I'm headed back to the bar to see whether Mr. Hodges is as handy with an old-fashioned as he is with a lift." "Of course," said Pamela. "Thank you again, sir." Since the circle around her and Arabella had thinned so, Pamela looked around for another to join. A not-entirely-disinterested nudge from her mother sent Pamela into Lord Richard's orbit. When the flow of conversation permitted, Pamela bade Lord Richard good evening, adding the urbane inquiry, "Have you heard from your sister lately?" "Pardon me, but Lady Pamela, is it?" Nicola asked, extending a gloved hand. "I'm Nicola Douglas, I don't believe we've met, darling, and I've been so looking forward to the pleasure. I've heard so many complimentary things about you and I dare say if half of them are true, you are more than the kind of person I'd like to meet!" Her smile was infectious and free of malice- nearly a complete opposite of Nola Diamond's bad behaviour earlier. Nicola was unaware of Pamela's preconceived notion of The Actresses, not that it would have made much difference if she had- she was firmly dedicated to making as many people like her as possible. __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Take Yahoo! Mail with you! Get it on your mobile phone. http://mobile.yahoo.com/maildemo From dorothea at textartisan.com Thu Dec 23 22:43:30 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Thu Dec 23 22:45:26 2004 Subject: [MaC] Richard, Pamela, Nicola and James socializing In-Reply-To: <20041224033357.71144.qmail@web20226.mail.yahoo.com> References: <20041224033357.71144.qmail@web20226.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <41CB9062.8060000@textartisan.com> > "Pardon me, but Lady Pamela, is it?" Nicola asked, > extending a gloved hand. "I'm Nicola Douglas, I don't > believe we've met, darling, and I've been so looking > forward to the pleasure. I've heard so many > complimentary things about you and I dare say if half > of them are true, you are more than the kind of person > I'd like to meet!" Her smile was infectious and free > of malice- nearly a complete opposite of Nola > Diamond's bad behaviour earlier. Nicola was unaware of > Pamela's preconceived notion of The Actresses, not > that it would have made much difference if she had- > she was firmly dedicated to making as many people like > her as possible. "Yes, I'm Pamela," said Pamela, taking Nicola's hand politely. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Douglas; I am sorry not to have found the opportunity before." British reserve prevented any more effusive a greeting than that, but Pamela's undeniably plain face was friendly and open. Whatever her prejudices, she seemed willing to give them up. "How lovely you *do* look; I do so admire that colour on you." From Mrfury28 at aol.com Thu Dec 23 23:22:17 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Thu Dec 23 23:22:24 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the Bar Message-ID: <15a.46a3a18e.2efcf379@aol.com> Cyril leaned at the end of the bar and watched the exchange and Nola's huffy departure with an amused smirk. "Actresses. They're so touchy. Always on stage, they are," he said to Hodges. "You got a towel back there, Hodges?" Cyril asked, examining the dirt on his hands. "I'm certain I wouldn't know, sir. Never had much call to such company." Hodges replied, adding, "Here you go, Mr. Beaman." and handing the businessman a white towel. -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041223/cbb31c3e/attachment.htm From jjkatalenic at yahoo.com Thu Dec 23 23:40:34 2004 From: jjkatalenic at yahoo.com (Jonathan Katalenic) Date: Thu Dec 23 23:40:35 2004 Subject: [MaC] Richard, Pamela, Nicola and James socializing In-Reply-To: <41CB9062.8060000@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <20041224044034.69641.qmail@web20223.mail.yahoo.com> > "Pardon me, but Lady Pamela, is it?" Nicola asked, > extending a gloved hand. "I'm Nicola Douglas, I don't > believe we've met, darling, and I've been so > looking forward to the pleasure. I've heard so many > complimentary things about you and I dare say if half > of them are true, you are more than the kind of person > I'd like to meet!" Her smile was infectious and free > of malice- nearly a complete opposite of Nola > Diamond's bad behaviour earlier. Nicola was unaware of > Pamela's preconceived notion of The Actresses, not > that it would have made much difference if she had- > she was firmly dedicated to making as many people like > her as possible. > > "Yes, I'm Pamela," said Pamela, taking Nicola's > hand politely. "A > pleasure to meet you, Miss Douglas; I am sorry not > to have found the > opportunity before." British reserve prevented any > more effusive a > greeting than that, but Pamela's undeniably plain > face was friendly and > open. Whatever her prejudices, she seemed willing to > give them up. "How > lovely you *do* look; I do so admire that colour on > you." "Oh, you're too kind," Nicola effervesed, her smile widening. "And you look lovely as well, darling- that blue complements you *so* well." She took a closer look at Pamela's gown and said, "You know, the more I look at it, the more I see that dress is exquisitely designed. You absolutely must tell me where you got it or I just don't know what I'll do." __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Take Yahoo! Mail with you! Get it on your mobile phone. http://mobile.yahoo.com/maildemo From dorothea at textartisan.com Thu Dec 23 23:50:32 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Thu Dec 23 23:52:25 2004 Subject: [MaC] Richard, Pamela, Nicola and James socializing In-Reply-To: <20041224044034.69641.qmail@web20223.mail.yahoo.com> References: <20041224044034.69641.qmail@web20223.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <41CBA018.9040002@textartisan.com> > "Oh, you're too kind," Nicola effervesed, her smile > widening. "And you look lovely as well, darling- that > blue complements you *so* well." She took a closer > look at Pamela's gown and said, "You know, the more I > look at it, the more I see that dress is exquisitely > designed. You absolutely must tell me where you got it > or I just don't know what I'll do." Pamela laughed aloud: a pleasant enough laugh, though it would not have done on the stage or on film. "You *have* been talking to my mother; I suspected so, and now I know," she said. "I rescued it from her closet last summer, and then I rescued it from the horrid welter of lace and ribbon it was buried in. They made a single dress in Mum's day with enough fabric for three; it was easy enough to put this one together. I've some new pattern books in our flat, if you'd like to look at them sometime." From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Fri Dec 24 04:24:12 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Fri Dec 24 04:25:00 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the Bar References: <15a.46a3a18e.2efcf379@aol.com> Message-ID: <003a01c4e99a$54e22a40$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Cyril leaned at the end of the bar and watched the exchange and Nola's huffy departure with an amused smirk. "Actresses. They're so touchy. Always on stage, they are," he said to Hodges. "You got a towel back there, Hodges?" Cyril asked, examining the dirt on his hands. "I'm certain I wouldn't know, sir. Never had much call to such company." Hodges replied, adding, "Here you go, Mr. Beaman." and handing the businessman a white towel. "Oh, don't dirty that, Cyril," said his wife, who had come to his side. "They'll never be able to get the oil off! Go back to our flat and get some of the old ones that Enid keeps under the kitchen sink for dirty jobs - and then the Wing Commander and Mr Hodges can clean their hands as well." From jadethe2nd at yahoo.com Fri Dec 24 04:54:11 2004 From: jadethe2nd at yahoo.com (Jade) Date: Fri Dec 24 04:54:14 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the Bar: Marjorie, Warren & Braham In-Reply-To: <41CB64B5.7030809@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <20041224095411.87302.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com> --- Heather Mace wrote: > > > > > > "Miss Higgins tells me I don't get out much > either," Braham says > > jokingly. "But I'm fairly new here myself, as you > can probably tell." He > > does have a rather think American accent. Those > who know the states > > would probably put him in the Northeastern part of > the US, New York > > perhaps. "Deciding to study abroad during a way > might not have been one > > of my better ideas. Still, I'm glad I came. It's > been nothing if not > > interesting." > > > > Tabitha raised her eyebrows as she watched Nola's > > retreat. Then she turned to Hodges. "Could I get > a > > large brandy?" she asked. She smiled at the other > > guests in the bar area and was dismayed to find > that > > this required more effort than usual. > > "Interesting... right," Marjorie said half > dismissively. > "And here I though we were going to see fancy people > with > proper manners and all that. Pshaw.." she said as > she > too watched Nola walk away. > > Then she looked at Tabitha. "You're Mrs. Rosen, > right? > The nurse that works over at the Royal Hospital?" > "That's right." Tabitha kept her smile in place as she looked at Marjorie. "And you're Miss Higgins, who delivers all my letters from my son, I believe?" __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! Mail - 250MB free storage. Do more. Manage less. http://info.mail.yahoo.com/mail_250 From hmace at elfworks.com Fri Dec 24 05:04:36 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Fri Dec 24 05:04:38 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the Bar: Marjorie, Warren & Braham In-Reply-To: <20041224095411.87302.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com> References: <20041224095411.87302.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <41CBE9B4.9050708@elfworks.com> >> >>"Interesting... right," Marjorie said half >>dismissively. >>"And here I though we were going to see fancy people >>with >>proper manners and all that. Pshaw.." she said as >>she >>too watched Nola walk away. >> >>Then she looked at Tabitha. "You're Mrs. Rosen, >>right? >>The nurse that works over at the Royal Hospital?" >> > > > "That's right." Tabitha kept her smile in place as she > looked at Marjorie. "And you're Miss Higgins, who > delivers all my letters from my son, I believe?" "That's me," Marjorie affirmed. "Hard hat street brigade. His writing is getting a lot better, you know... Much easier to recognize the address nowadays. How old is he?" the postwoman asked. From jadethe2nd at yahoo.com Fri Dec 24 05:24:58 2004 From: jadethe2nd at yahoo.com (Jade) Date: Fri Dec 24 05:25:01 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the Bar In-Reply-To: <20041224024044.39998.qmail@web50704.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <20041224102458.61600.qmail@web60803.mail.yahoo.com> --- Brenda McCartney wrote: > > --- Mrfury28@aol.com wrote: > > > Then she turned to Hodges. "Could I get a large > brandy?" she asked. > > She > > smiled at the other guests in the bar area and was > dismayed to find > > that this > > required more effort than usual. > > > > "Of course." Unperturbed, Hodges filled a snifter > half full. "There > > you are, > > miss." "Thank you, Mr Hodges." She pulled the drink towards her and gazed down at it thoughtfully. > > Cyril turned to Tabitha. "Good evening, Mrs. Rosen. > How's the lad > doing out in Somerset?" he asked in a grandfatherly > way. > "Good evening!" said Tabitha. "Thank you for asking. He's doing all right, but he does have some problems with the language, especially with the strong accents some of the locals have. I thought about bringing him back for Hanukkah and the New Year, but in the end I decided not to risk it. Knowing the Germans, they'll probably bomb the whole city to the ground on Christmas Day," she continued rather bitterly. __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Meet the all-new My Yahoo! - Try it today! http://my.yahoo.com From jvstin at mindspring.com Fri Dec 24 06:15:26 2004 From: jvstin at mindspring.com (Jvstin(Mindspring)) Date: Fri Dec 24 06:15:38 2004 Subject: [MaC] Richard, Pamela, Nicola and James socializing In-Reply-To: <41CBA018.9040002@textartisan.com> References: <20041224044034.69641.qmail@web20223.mail.yahoo.com> <41CBA018.9040002@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <41CBFA4E.6080906@mindspring.com> on 12/23/2004 10:50 PM Dorothea Salo said the following: >> "Oh, you're too kind," Nicola effervesed, her smile >> widening. "And you look lovely as well, darling- that >> blue complements you *so* well." She took a closer >> look at Pamela's gown and said, "You know, the more I >> look at it, the more I see that dress is exquisitely >> designed. You absolutely must tell me where you got it >> or I just don't know what I'll do." > > > Pamela laughed aloud: a pleasant enough laugh, though it would not > have done on the stage or on film. "You *have* been talking to my > mother; I suspected so, and now I know," she said. "I rescued it from > her closet last summer, and then I rescued it from the horrid welter of > lace and ribbon it was buried in. They made a single dress in Mum's day > with enough fabric for three; it was easy enough to put this one > together. I've some new pattern books in our flat, if you'd like to look > at them sometime." > James listened, with half an ear, and turned to look at Richard. "Not that I like to talk too much business" James said. "But I might as well begin with you, since for the life of me, I can't imagine why you'd stay down here in London. You're from the North, aren't you?" he asked Richard. {Tag Richard, Nicola, Pamela} From windeaglebjm at yahoo.com Fri Dec 24 07:25:43 2004 From: windeaglebjm at yahoo.com (Brenda McCartney) Date: Fri Dec 24 07:25:46 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the Bar In-Reply-To: <20041224102458.61600.qmail@web60803.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <20041224122543.15471.qmail@web50705.mail.yahoo.com> --- Jade wrote: > > --- Brenda McCartney wrote: > > > > > --- Mrfury28@aol.com wrote: > > > > > Then she turned to Hodges. "Could I get a large > > brandy?" she asked. > > > She > > > smiled at the other guests in the bar area and was > > dismayed to find > > > that this > > > required more effort than usual. > > > > > > "Of course." Unperturbed, Hodges filled a snifter > > half full. "There > > > you are, > > > miss." > > "Thank you, Mr Hodges." She pulled the drink towards > her and gazed down at it thoughtfully. > > > > > Cyril turned to Tabitha. "Good evening, Mrs. Rosen. > > How's the lad > > doing out in Somerset?" he asked in a grandfatherly > > way. > > > > "Good evening!" said Tabitha. "Thank you for asking. > He's doing all right, but he does have some problems > with the language, especially with the strong accents > some of the locals have. I thought about bringing him > back for Hanukkah and the New Year, but in the end I > decided not to risk it. Knowing the Germans, they'll > probably bomb the whole city to the ground on > Christmas Day," she continued rather bitterly. "No, that's good thinking," Cyril answered, trying to temper her bitterness. "The lad's much safer where he is. Even without the bombs, he'd be climbing through the rubble and likely to get hurt." He smiled, "I know my lad wouldn't have been able to resist trying to play in all this." Cyril turned as his wife approached. He said to Tabitha, "Now I know you've met my wife. She's how I knew about your son." > > > > __________________________________ > Do you Yahoo!? > Meet the all-new My Yahoo! - Try it today! > http://my.yahoo.com > > > > _______________________________________________ > murder_at_christmas mailing list > murder_at_christmas@gamera.cc > http://gamera.cc/mailman/listinfo/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc > __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! Mail - Easier than ever with enhanced search. Learn more. http://info.mail.yahoo.com/mail_250 From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Fri Dec 24 07:23:55 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Fri Dec 24 07:25:51 2004 Subject: [MaC] An Interruption Message-ID: <007b01c4e9b3$7016d9a0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> The party seemed to have settled down. People were talking quietly now - and the sound of Anton's piano was forming a soothing background to the conversation. He was playing light, popular classics, it appeared, not his usual style at all (as anyone who had attended his concerts would know). And then everything was disrupted by a shrill whistling in the street. "That's the ARP," said Oswald Skeffington-Nottle. "We must be showing a light." Marty Fitzroy swore. "Put the lights out," he ordered Hodges. "Perhaps that'll shut them up." Oswald moved to the window. "I'll see what they say once the lights are out," he said. Soon the room was plunged into darkness - it seemed strange not to be able to see anyone else, and there were several nervous giggles, as though this were a party game. In the next flat, Anton Barowenski could be heard continuing to play. Oswald moved to the window and leaned out. He could be heard shouting an enquiry - and a distant voice resonded. Then he could be heard shuffling back into the room. "Not good news, I'm afraid," he said. "They've found an incendiary - unexploded. They want us to stay put while it's defused. And we were showing a light. The warden's coming up to fix the blackout now." Indeed, in the odd stillness that darkness sometimes gives, the clank of the lift could be heard as it started its descent. Lucinda gave a little chuckle. "You should have told him to take the stairs, Oswald!" From windeaglebjm at yahoo.com Fri Dec 24 07:32:04 2004 From: windeaglebjm at yahoo.com (Brenda McCartney) Date: Fri Dec 24 07:32:08 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the Bar In-Reply-To: <003a01c4e99a$54e22a40$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <20041224123204.71838.qmail@web50702.mail.yahoo.com> --- Mel Mason wrote: > > Cyril leaned at the end of the bar and watched the exchange and > Nola's huffy > departure with an amused smirk. "Actresses. They're so touchy. > Always on > stage, they are," he said to Hodges. "You got a towel back there, > Hodges?" > Cyril asked, examining the dirt on his hands. > > "I'm certain I wouldn't know, sir. Never had much call to such > company." > Hodges replied, adding, "Here you go, Mr. Beaman." and handing the > businessman a white towel. > Cyril turned away from his conversation with Mrs. Rosen to take the towel. > "Oh, don't dirty that, Cyril," said his wife, who had come to his > side. > "They'll never be able to get the oil off! Go back to our flat and > get some > of the old ones that Enid keeps under the kitchen sink for dirty jobs > - and > then the Wing Commander and Mr Hodges can clean their hands as well." Cyril smiled at Florence. "Yes, dear," he answered in mock-servitude. To Tabitha and Hodges he said, "Back in a moment, folks. I have my orders." He made his way down the stairs and back out into the hallway to return to his own penthouse across the hall. __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! Mail - Helps protect you from nasty viruses. http://promotions.yahoo.com/new_mail From dorothea at textartisan.com Fri Dec 24 09:05:51 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Fri Dec 24 09:07:52 2004 Subject: [MaC] An Interruption In-Reply-To: <007b01c4e9b3$7016d9a0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <007b01c4e9b3$7016d9a0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41CC223F.3090509@textartisan.com> > "Not good news, I'm afraid," he said. "They've found an incendiary - > unexploded. They want us to stay put while it's defused. And we were > showing a light. The warden's coming up to fix the blackout now." > > Indeed, in the odd stillness that darkness sometimes gives, the clank of > the lift could be heard as it started its descent. Lucinda gave a > little chuckle. > > "You should have told him to take the stairs, Oswald!" "From ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggedy beasties and things that go bang in the night, good Lord deliver us, *especially* on Christmas Eve," Pamela murmured. From jadethe2nd at yahoo.com Fri Dec 24 09:32:50 2004 From: jadethe2nd at yahoo.com (Jade) Date: Fri Dec 24 09:32:53 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the Bar: Marjorie, Warren & Braham In-Reply-To: <41CBE9B4.9050708@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <20041224143250.4380.qmail@web60806.mail.yahoo.com> --- Heather Mace wrote: > >> > >>"Interesting... right," Marjorie said half > >>dismissively. > >>"And here I though we were going to see fancy > people > >>with > >>proper manners and all that. Pshaw.." she said > as > >>she > >>too watched Nola walk away. > >> > >>Then she looked at Tabitha. "You're Mrs. Rosen, > >>right? > >>The nurse that works over at the Royal Hospital?" > >> > > > > > > "That's right." Tabitha kept her smile in place as > she > > looked at Marjorie. "And you're Miss Higgins, who > > delivers all my letters from my son, I believe?" > > "That's me," Marjorie affirmed. "Hard hat street > brigade. His writing is getting a lot better, > you know... Much easier to recognize the address > nowadays. How old is he?" the postwoman asked. > "He's eight," Tabitha replied, but was unable to continue because of the commotion by the window. __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around http://mail.yahoo.com From Mrfury28 at aol.com Fri Dec 24 09:48:10 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Fri Dec 24 09:48:25 2004 Subject: [MaC] An Interruption Message-ID: <24.6706521b.2efd862a@aol.com> Lucinda gave a little chuckle. "You should have told him to take the stairs, Oswald!" Hodges harumphed, "The lift is fixed, Mrs Skeffington-Nottle. Should be right as rain - or maybe snow on Christmas." He added. -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041224/243e6b4e/attachment.htm From jjkatalenic at yahoo.com Fri Dec 24 10:12:24 2004 From: jjkatalenic at yahoo.com (Jonathan Katalenic) Date: Fri Dec 24 10:12:26 2004 Subject: [MaC] Richard, Pamela, Nicola and James socializing In-Reply-To: <41CBFA4E.6080906@mindspring.com> Message-ID: <20041224151224.6271.qmail@web20222.mail.yahoo.com> Pamela laughed aloud: a pleasant enough laugh, though it would not have done on the stage or on film. "You *have* been talking to my mother; I suspected so, and now I know," she said. "I rescued it from her closet last summer, and then I rescued it from the horrid welter of lace and ribbon it was buried in. They made a single dress in Mum's day with enough fabric for three; it was easy enough to put this one together. I've some new pattern books in our flat, if you'd like to look at them sometime." "Darling, I must protest such an accusation- I have never had the delight of speaking with your mother," Nicola said with a grin. "But yes, darling, I'd love to look at some of your work if it's as lovely as that. You have such talent if you can totally take a dress apart and re-make it like that! This I just must see." James listened, with half an ear, and turned to look at Richard. "Not that I like to talk too much business" James said. "But I might as well begin with you, since for the life of me, I can't imagine why you'd stay down here in London. You're from the North, aren't you?" he asked Richard. {Tag Richard, Nicola, Pamela} __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Read only the mail you want - Yahoo! Mail SpamGuard. http://promotions.yahoo.com/new_mail From jjkatalenic at yahoo.com Fri Dec 24 10:21:13 2004 From: jjkatalenic at yahoo.com (Jonathan Katalenic) Date: Fri Dec 24 10:21:18 2004 Subject: [MaC] An Interruption In-Reply-To: <41CC223F.3090509@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <20041224152113.27680.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com> "From ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggedy beasties and things that go bang in the night, good Lord deliver us, *especially* on Christmas Eve," Pamela murmured. "Indeed, darling," Nicola said through the darkness. Summoning a smile, even though no one could see it, she lifted her glass and said, "Well, I don't know if the three of you will indulge me, but my family always makes a traditional toast on Christmas Eve and there's no reason why a little darkness should keep us from enjoying ourselves." She cleared her throat and recited, "Here's to me and here's to you and here's to love and laughter. I'll be true as long as you, and not a single moment after." She held her glass where she estimated the center of their circle was so that the others might clink glasses with her. __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? All your favorites on one personal page – Try My Yahoo! http://my.yahoo.com From margdean at erols.com Fri Dec 24 10:33:07 2004 From: margdean at erols.com (Margaret Dean) Date: Fri Dec 24 10:34:13 2004 Subject: [MaC] An Interruption References: <007b01c4e9b3$7016d9a0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41CC36B3.2CA88335@erols.com> Mel Mason wrote: > > The party seemed to have settled down. People were talking quietly now - > and the sound of Anton's piano was forming a soothing background to the > conversation. He was playing light, popular classics, it appeared, not his > usual style at all (as anyone who had attended his concerts would know). Soon after the music had started, Marion Mauberly, who had been standing near the bar but not mingling, looked around at the assembled company and said, "I wonder what's become of Vangie? Perhaps I'd better go see." She set down her drink on the bar and headed down the stairs the way her friend had gone. > And then everything was disrupted by a shrill whistling in the street. > > "That's the ARP," said Oswald Skeffington-Nottle. "We must be showing a > light." > > Marty Fitzroy swore. "Put the lights out," he ordered Hodges. "Perhaps > that'll shut them up." > > Oswald moved to the window. "I'll see what they say once the lights are > out," he said. > > Soon the room was plunged into darkness - it seemed strange not to be able > to see anyone else, and there were several nervous giggles, as though this > were a party game. > > In the next flat, Anton Barowenski could be heard continuing to play. > > Oswald moved to the window and leaned out. He could be heard shouting an > enquiry - and a distant voice resonded. Then he could be heard shuffling > back into the room. > > "Not good news, I'm afraid," he said. "They've found an incendiary - > unexploded. They want us to stay put while it's defused. And we were > showing a light. The warden's coming up to fix the blackout now." > > Indeed, in the odd stillness that darkness sometimes gives, the clank of the > lift could be heard as it started its descent. Lucinda gave a little > chuckle. > > "You should have told him to take the stairs, Oswald!" --Margaret Dean, catching up From dorothea at textartisan.com Fri Dec 24 11:05:58 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Fri Dec 24 11:07:57 2004 Subject: [MaC] An Interruption In-Reply-To: <20041224152113.27680.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com> References: <20041224152113.27680.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <41CC3E66.3090006@textartisan.com> > She cleared her throat and > recited, "Here's to me and here's to you and here's to > love and laughter. I'll be true as long as you, and > not a single moment after." She held her glass where > she estimated the center of their circle was so that > the others might clink glasses with her. "Cheers," Pamela answered in a voice gone slightly hoarse, and met Nicola's glass with her own. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Fri Dec 24 11:26:05 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Fri Dec 24 11:26:18 2004 Subject: [MaC] An Interruption References: <20041224152113.27680.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com> <41CC3E66.3090006@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <010e01c4e9d5$44faced0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> She cleared her throat and >> recited, "Here's to me and here's to you and here's to >> love and laughter. I'll be true as long as you, and >> not a single moment after." She held her glass where >> she estimated the center of their circle was so that >> the others might clink glasses with her. > > "Cheers," Pamela answered in a voice gone slightly hoarse, and met > Nicola's glass with her own. > And then there were several other toasts exchanged ... but it was a difficult thing to gauge. People bumped into each other - and other people weren't where they were expected to be. It was hard to determine who was actually present in the darkness, and who was not. The piano continued to play undisturbed. The lift had cranked away into the distance, and was even now doubtless collecting the ARP warden. From Nowsounds at comcast.net Fri Dec 24 11:42:57 2004 From: Nowsounds at comcast.net (Nowsounds@comcast.net) Date: Fri Dec 24 11:43:00 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the bar Message-ID: <122420041642.14144.41CC471000067E360000374022007347489C0B029A019C9901B2@comcast.net> > > There was defiance in her face as she confronted him, and his own face > > reddened with rage, his fists slowlyly clenching. But it was he who looked > > away first. > > > > "Someone take her away and sober her up," he muttered. > > Warren's eyes were bird-bright as he took in the scene, but > he didn't say anything; instead, he let his attention wander, > watching the others arrive from their ordeal at the lift. Arabella noticed the little scene, too, and watched it quietly, with some concern. But she did not know either Nola Diamond nor their host well enough to intervene, or express a vocal opinion. Still... it was troubling in its gaucherie, its implications.. not to mention the fact that it was not Marty Fitzroy she believed to be involved with the young actress.... -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041224/10f8a933/attachment.htm From Nowsounds at comcast.net Fri Dec 24 11:48:18 2004 From: Nowsounds at comcast.net (Nowsounds@comcast.net) Date: Fri Dec 24 11:48:23 2004 Subject: [MaC] The Lift is Fixed! Message-ID: <122420041648.5143.41CC4851000F200A0000141722058863609C0B029A019C9901B2@comcast.net> > > "Please forgive my lateness as well, Mrs. Fitzroy," > said Tabitha, studying the hostess' face for slightly > longer than necessary. "Things were rather hectic at > the hospital, I'm afr..." she trailed off, suddenly > realising where she had seen Esme Fitzroy before. She > swallowed. "Now, please forgive me, but I haven't had > anything to drink since lunch," she said quickly, > heading over to where Marion was tending bar and > hoping that no one had noticed her shock. This was the second guest in a row to give Esme Fitzroy such a look, and Arabella found herself wondering why. Their hostess seemed retiring, and definitely anxious, and Arabella realized that she knew absolutely nothing about her except for the fact that she was Marty Fitzroy's wife... It was not that they were of different classes -- she was friendly with many of her neighbors. Was it that Mrs. Fitzroy did not wish to be known, or was it the wish of her husband? And if so... why? -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041224/fca22136/attachment-0001.htm From jvstin at gmail.com Fri Dec 24 14:27:43 2004 From: jvstin at gmail.com (Jvstin) Date: Fri Dec 24 14:27:44 2004 Subject: [MaC] An Interruption In-Reply-To: <41CC36B3.2CA88335@erols.com> References: <007b01c4e9b3$7016d9a0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41CC36B3.2CA88335@erols.com> Message-ID: <36e1ae0304122411275f7cd83c@mail.gmail.com> On Fri, 24 Dec 2004 10:33:07 -0500, Margaret Dean wrote: > Mel Mason wrote: > > > > The party seemed to have settled down. People were talking quietly now - > > and the sound of Anton's piano was forming a soothing background to the > > conversation. He was playing light, popular classics, it appeared, not his > > usual style at all (as anyone who had attended his concerts would know). > > Soon after the music had started, Marion Mauberly, who had been > standing near the bar but not mingling, looked around at the > assembled company and said, "I wonder what's become of Vangie? > Perhaps I'd better go see." She set down her drink on the bar > and headed down the stairs the way her friend had gone. > > > And then everything was disrupted by a shrill whistling in the street. > > > > "That's the ARP," said Oswald Skeffington-Nottle. "We must be showing a > > light." > > > > Marty Fitzroy swore. "Put the lights out," he ordered Hodges. "Perhaps > > that'll shut them up." > > > > Oswald moved to the window. "I'll see what they say once the lights are > > out," he said. > > > > Soon the room was plunged into darkness - it seemed strange not to be able > > to see anyone else, and there were several nervous giggles, as though this > > were a party game. > > > > In the next flat, Anton Barowenski could be heard continuing to play. > > > > Oswald moved to the window and leaned out. He could be heard shouting an > > enquiry - and a distant voice resonded. Then he could be heard shuffling > > back into the room. > > > > "Not good news, I'm afraid," he said. "They've found an incendiary - > > unexploded. They want us to stay put while it's defused. And we were > > showing a light. The warden's coming up to fix the blackout now." > > > > Indeed, in the odd stillness that darkness sometimes gives, the clank of the > > lift could be heard as it started its descent. Lucinda gave a little > > chuckle. > > > > "You should have told him to take the stairs, Oswald!" > "Seriously, Oswald." James put in. "Having the poor Warden get into that deathtrap is not going to improve his mood." From hmace at elfworks.com Fri Dec 24 14:28:05 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Fri Dec 24 14:28:06 2004 Subject: [MaC] An Interruption In-Reply-To: <010e01c4e9d5$44faced0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041224152113.27680.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com> <41CC3E66.3090006@textartisan.com> <010e01c4e9d5$44faced0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41CC6DC5.6060709@elfworks.com> >> >> "Cheers," Pamela answered in a voice gone slightly hoarse, and met >> Nicola's glass with her own. >> > > And then there were several other toasts exchanged ... but it was a > difficult thing to gauge. People bumped into each other - and other > people weren't where they were expected to be. It was hard to determine > who was actually present in the darkness, and who was not. > > The piano continued to play undisturbed. The lift had cranked away into > the distance, and was even now doubtless collecting the ARP warden. "Maybe someone should go over and tell Mr. Barowenski about the UXB?" Marjorie said from her stool. "He must have a light on over there to be able to play. Besides, we could hear what's happening outside better if he weren't playing." She fumbled in the darkness to put her empty glass on top of the bar. From faespinner at yahoo.com Fri Dec 24 14:49:02 2004 From: faespinner at yahoo.com (Tara Kunkel) Date: Fri Dec 24 14:49:26 2004 Subject: [MaC] An Interruption In-Reply-To: <41CC6DC5.6060709@elfworks.com> References: <010e01c4e9d5$44faced0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <20041224152113.27680.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com> <41CC3E66.3090006@textartisan.com> <010e01c4e9d5$44faced0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <5.1.0.14.0.20041224144603.02e2ec28@pop.mail.yahoo.com> At 02:28 PM 12/24/2004, you wrote: >>>"Cheers," Pamela answered in a voice gone slightly hoarse, and met >>>Nicola's glass with her own. >>And then there were several other toasts exchanged ... but it was a >>difficult thing to gauge. People bumped into each other - and other >>people weren't where they were expected to be. It was hard to determine >>who was actually present in the darkness, and who was not. >>The piano continued to play undisturbed. The lift had cranked away into >>the distance, and was even now doubtless collecting the ARP warden. > >"Maybe someone should go over and tell Mr. Barowenski about the UXB?" >Marjorie said from her stool. "He must have a light on over there >to be able to play. Besides, we could hear what's happening outside >better if he weren't playing." She fumbled in the darkness to put >her empty glass on top of the bar. "Well I suppose I can go," Braham offered as he rose up from his own stool. "I don't mind. And beside that, I'd like to be able to hear any commotion coming from outside as well." Slowly he began to fumble his way across the room, excuse himself every few feet just to let others know he was coming. From kris.kunkel at gmail.com Fri Dec 24 15:01:13 2004 From: kris.kunkel at gmail.com (Knave of Amber) Date: Fri Dec 24 15:01:17 2004 Subject: [MaC] Fixing the Lift In-Reply-To: <20041223113439.67525.qmail@web50701.mail.yahoo.com> References: <13d.92954e3.2efbc286@aol.com> <20041223113439.67525.qmail@web50701.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <3b089f7c0412241201497bb948@mail.gmail.com> On Thu, 23 Dec 2004 03:34:39 -0800 (PST), Brenda McCartney wrote: > > --- Mrfury28@aol.com wrote: > > > > > Cyril rose from his knees and squinted toward the chain Hodges > > indicated. > > "Certainly, sir. You know the lift and I know tools. You just tell > > me what you > > need me to do." > > > > "Thank you Mr. Beaman. And I'm certain that the Group Captain can > > assist us > > as well." Hodges gave Michael a nod. With that, the elderly > > repairman went > > to work, pausing only to ask one man or the other to hand him > > something from > > his clanky toolbox. > > With one ear open for tool requests, Cyril turned to Michael. "Ah, > Commander. You made it back from your travels, I see. Not much to > come back to lately, I fear." "Always a wealth to come back to, Cyril," Mike answers with a chuckle. "It's *home*." [eot?] From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Fri Dec 24 15:04:34 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Fri Dec 24 15:04:45 2004 Subject: [MaC] An Interruption References: <010e01c4e9d5$44faced0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><20041224152113.27680.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com><41CC3E66.3090006@textartisan.com><010e01c4e9d5$44faced0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <5.1.0.14.0.20041224144603.02e2ec28@pop.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <016401c4e9f3$ca6751b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >>>>"Cheers," Pamela answered in a voice gone slightly hoarse, and met >>>>Nicola's glass with her own. >>>And then there were several other toasts exchanged ... but it was a >>>difficult thing to gauge. People bumped into each other - and other >>>people weren't where they were expected to be. It was hard to determine >>>who was actually present in the darkness, and who was not. >>>The piano continued to play undisturbed. The lift had cranked away into >>>the distance, and was even now doubtless collecting the ARP warden. >> >>"Maybe someone should go over and tell Mr. Barowenski about the UXB?" >>Marjorie said from her stool. "He must have a light on over there >>to be able to play. Besides, we could hear what's happening outside >>better if he weren't playing." She fumbled in the darkness to put >>her empty glass on top of the bar. > > "Well I suppose I can go," Braham offered as he rose up from his own > stool. "I don't mind. And beside that, I'd like to be able to hear any > commotion coming from outside as well." > > Slowly he began to fumble his way across the room, excuse himself every > few feet just to let others know he was coming. And almost immediately he stumbled and fell ... and Florence Beaman let out a yelp of pain. The lift was clanking up to the lower floor of the penthouse. "Well," said Lucinda, "someone had better go and meet the man." She began to edge her way towards the stairs down to the lower floor. (OOC - anyone going with her, or helping Mrs Beaman?) From kris.kunkel at gmail.com Fri Dec 24 15:09:36 2004 From: kris.kunkel at gmail.com (Knave of Amber) Date: Fri Dec 24 15:09:41 2004 Subject: [MaC] Joining the Fun (Pamela, Philip) In-Reply-To: <41CB6E34.23D40D4A@erols.com> References: <014201c4e90a$0153f240$96f1fea9@BriansPC> <41CB6E34.23D40D4A@erols.com> Message-ID: <3b089f7c0412241209d504e47@mail.gmail.com> On Thu, 23 Dec 2004 20:17:40 -0500, Margaret Dean wrote: > Brian Schoner wrote: > > > > > (OOC - could people indicate if they are? The standard side > > > arms for men and women would be Enfields or (more rarely) Webleys) > > > > Philip does have a Webley strapped on as part of his uniform, though it's on > > his right side, where his injury would probably make it difficult to draw > > and impossible to fire. > > Marion often carries a derringer but she probably wouldn't have > it at the party. Michael's wearing no weapon. From jadethe2nd at yahoo.com Fri Dec 24 15:18:32 2004 From: jadethe2nd at yahoo.com (Jade) Date: Fri Dec 24 15:18:43 2004 Subject: [MaC] Joining the Fun (Pamela, Philip) In-Reply-To: <3b089f7c0412241209d504e47@mail.gmail.com> Message-ID: <20041224201832.47728.qmail@web60807.mail.yahoo.com> --- Knave of Amber wrote: > On Thu, 23 Dec 2004 20:17:40 -0500, Margaret Dean > wrote: > > Brian Schoner wrote: > > > > > > > (OOC - could people indicate if they are? The > standard side > > > > arms for men and women would be Enfields or > (more rarely) Webleys) > > > > > > Philip does have a Webley strapped on as part of > his uniform, though it's on > > > his right side, where his injury would probably > make it difficult to draw > > > and impossible to fire. > > > > Marion often carries a derringer but she probably > wouldn't have > > it at the party. > > Michael's wearing no weapon. > Neither is Tabitha. __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Send a seasonal email greeting and help others. Do good. http://celebrity.mail.yahoo.com From kris.kunkel at gmail.com Fri Dec 24 15:29:16 2004 From: kris.kunkel at gmail.com (Knave of Amber) Date: Fri Dec 24 15:29:22 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the Bar In-Reply-To: <20041224123204.71838.qmail@web50702.mail.yahoo.com> References: <003a01c4e99a$54e22a40$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <20041224123204.71838.qmail@web50702.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <3b089f7c041224122947a84fd2@mail.gmail.com> On Fri, 24 Dec 2004 04:32:04 -0800 (PST), Brenda McCartney wrote: > > --- Mel Mason wrote: > > > > > Cyril leaned at the end of the bar and watched the exchange and > > Nola's huffy > > departure with an amused smirk. "Actresses. They're so touchy. > > Always on > > stage, they are," he said to Hodges. "You got a towel back there, > > Hodges?" > > Cyril asked, examining the dirt on his hands. > > > > "I'm certain I wouldn't know, sir. Never had much call to such > > company." > > Hodges replied, adding, "Here you go, Mr. Beaman." and handing the > > businessman a white towel. > > > Cyril turned away from his conversation with Mrs. Rosen to take the > towel. > > > "Oh, don't dirty that, Cyril," said his wife, who had come to his > > side. > > "They'll never be able to get the oil off! Go back to our flat and > > get some > > of the old ones that Enid keeps under the kitchen sink for dirty jobs > > - and > > then the Wing Commander and Mr Hodges can clean their hands as well." > > Cyril smiled at Florence. "Yes, dear," he answered in mock-servitude. > To Tabitha and Hodges he said, "Back in a moment, folks. I have my > orders." He made his way down the stairs and back out into the hallway > to return to his own penthouse across the hall. Michael salutes his comrade in oil and offers a smile to his wife. "Mrs. Beaman, that's extremely thoughtful." "I think I'll match the lady if you will, old man," he says to Hodges with a nod to Tabitha's brandy. He sets a package on the bartop, not concerned with the oily fingerprints on it. The box wasn't important, the brandy within was. "A Happy Christmas, Mrs. Franz. You look especially lovely this evening, I must say," he greets her. From kris.kunkel at gmail.com Fri Dec 24 15:34:59 2004 From: kris.kunkel at gmail.com (Knave of Amber) Date: Fri Dec 24 15:35:03 2004 Subject: [MaC] An Interruption In-Reply-To: <016401c4e9f3$ca6751b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041224152113.27680.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com> <41CC3E66.3090006@textartisan.com> <010e01c4e9d5$44faced0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <5.1.0.14.0.20041224144603.02e2ec28@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <016401c4e9f3$ca6751b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <3b089f7c0412241234299954b4@mail.gmail.com> On Fri, 24 Dec 2004 20:04:34 -0000, Mel Mason wrote: > >>>>"Cheers," Pamela answered in a voice gone slightly hoarse, and met > >>>>Nicola's glass with her own. > > >>>And then there were several other toasts exchanged ... but it was a > >>>difficult thing to gauge. People bumped into each other - and other > >>>people weren't where they were expected to be. It was hard to determine > >>>who was actually present in the darkness, and who was not. > >>>The piano continued to play undisturbed. The lift had cranked away into > >>>the distance, and was even now doubtless collecting the ARP warden. > >> > >>"Maybe someone should go over and tell Mr. Barowenski about the UXB?" > >>Marjorie said from her stool. "He must have a light on over there > >>to be able to play. Besides, we could hear what's happening outside > >>better if he weren't playing." She fumbled in the darkness to put > >>her empty glass on top of the bar. > > > > "Well I suppose I can go," Braham offered as he rose up from his own > > stool. "I don't mind. And beside that, I'd like to be able to hear any > > commotion coming from outside as well." > > > > Slowly he began to fumble his way across the room, excuse himself every > > few feet just to let others know he was coming. > > And almost immediately he stumbled and fell ... and Florence Beaman let out > a yelp of pain. > > The lift was clanking up to the lower floor of the penthouse. > > "Well," said Lucinda, "someone had better go and meet the man." > > She began to edge her way towards the stairs down to the lower floor. Michael set a hand on Tabitha's in reassurace. "I'm sure it's nothing." He tossed back his brandy and headed for the door. "Mrs. S-N, it's Commander Coldsmith-Briggs," he called. "No need for you to go, I'll meet them." From jjkatalenic at yahoo.com Fri Dec 24 16:01:13 2004 From: jjkatalenic at yahoo.com (Jonathan Katalenic) Date: Fri Dec 24 16:01:15 2004 Subject: [MaC] An Interruption In-Reply-To: <016401c4e9f3$ca6751b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <20041224210113.29630.qmail@web20224.mail.yahoo.com> Slowly he began to fumble his way across the room, excuse himself every few feet just to let others know he was coming. And almost immediately he stumbled and fell ... and Florence Beaman let out a yelp of pain. "Oh, Mrs. Beaman, darling, do let me help you up," Nicola said, kneeling down to take the woman's hand. "It's so very difficult with the blackout, why, it's a miracle more people haven't collided into each other." The lift was clanking up to the lower floor of the penthouse. "Well," said Lucinda, "someone had better go and meet the man." She began to edge her way towards the stairs down to the lower floor. __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? The all-new My Yahoo! - Get yours free! http://my.yahoo.com From hmace at elfworks.com Fri Dec 24 16:37:40 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Fri Dec 24 16:37:41 2004 Subject: [MaC] An Interruption In-Reply-To: <3b089f7c0412241234299954b4@mail.gmail.com> References: <20041224152113.27680.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com> <41CC3E66.3090006@textartisan.com> <010e01c4e9d5$44faced0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <5.1.0.14.0.20041224144603.02e2ec28@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <016401c4e9f3$ca6751b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <3b089f7c0412241234299954b4@mail.gmail.com> Message-ID: <41CC8C24.6010300@elfworks.com> >>> >>>"Well I suppose I can go," Braham offered as he rose up from his own >>>stool. "I don't mind. And beside that, I'd like to be able to hear any >>>commotion coming from outside as well." >>> >>>Slowly he began to fumble his way across the room, excuse himself every >>>few feet just to let others know he was coming. >> >>And almost immediately he stumbled and fell ... and Florence Beaman let out >>a yelp of pain. >> >>The lift was clanking up to the lower floor of the penthouse. >> >>"Well," said Lucinda, "someone had better go and meet the man." >> >>She began to edge her way towards the stairs down to the lower floor. > > > Michael set a hand on Tabitha's in reassurace. "I'm sure it's > nothing." He tossed back his brandy and headed for the door. > > "Mrs. S-N, it's Commander Coldsmith-Briggs," he called. "No need for > you to go, I'll meet them." "Oh my..." Marjorie exclaimed at the yelps and sounds of falling in the room. "Anyone got a lighter? Or a torch? Or a candle even?" From jadethe2nd at yahoo.com Fri Dec 24 17:03:44 2004 From: jadethe2nd at yahoo.com (Jade) Date: Fri Dec 24 17:03:47 2004 Subject: [MaC] Around the Bar In-Reply-To: <3b089f7c041224122947a84fd2@mail.gmail.com> Message-ID: <20041224220344.41015.qmail@web60810.mail.yahoo.com> > "I think I'll match the lady if you will, old man," > he says to Hodges > with a nod to Tabitha's brandy. He sets a package on > the bartop, not > concerned with the oily fingerprints on it. The box > wasn't important, > the brandy within was. > > "A Happy Christmas, Mrs. Franz. You look especially > lovely this > evening, I must say," he greets her. > "Thank you, Wing Commander. You're looking quite dashing yourself," she replied with a brief smile. __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Meet the all-new My Yahoo! - Try it today! http://my.yahoo.com From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Fri Dec 24 18:11:26 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Fri Dec 24 18:11:37 2004 Subject: [MaC] An Interruption References: <20041224152113.27680.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com><41CC3E66.3090006@textartisan.com><010e01c4e9d5$44faced0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><5.1.0.14.0.20041224144603.02e2ec28@pop.mail.yahoo.com><016401c4e9f3$ca6751b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <3b089f7c0412241234299954b4@mail.gmail.com> Message-ID: <01a601c4ea0d$e5124230$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> And almost immediately he stumbled and fell ... and Florence Beaman let >> out >> a yelp of pain. >> >> The lift was clanking up to the lower floor of the penthouse. >> >> "Well," said Lucinda, "someone had better go and meet the man." >> >> She began to edge her way towards the stairs down to the lower floor. > > Michael set a hand on Tabitha's in reassurace. "I'm sure it's > nothing." He tossed back his brandy and headed for the door. > > "Mrs. S-N, it's Commander Coldsmith-Briggs," he called. "No need for > you to go, I'll meet them." > In fact, Lucia was half way down the stairs when Michael caught up with her ... and together they went out of the flat and on to the landing where the ARP warden was emerging from the lift. (OOC - anyone else joining them?) "You were showing a light," he said curtly. "Top floor - that flat." He pointed to the Fitzroys' flat. "We're very sorry," said Lucinda. "We've put all the lights out now. Will you come and check?" From dorothea at textartisan.com Fri Dec 24 18:14:29 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Fri Dec 24 18:16:25 2004 Subject: [MaC] An Interruption In-Reply-To: <01a601c4ea0d$e5124230$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041224152113.27680.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com><41CC3E66.3090006@textartisan.com><010e01c4e9d5$44faced0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><5.1.0.14.0.20041224144603.02e2ec28@pop.mail.yahoo.com><016401c4e9f3$ca6751b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <3b089f7c0412241234299954b4@mail.gmail.com> <01a601c4ea0d$e5124230$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41CCA2D5.6080808@textartisan.com> > In fact, Lucinda was half way down the stairs when Michael caught up with > her ... and together they went out of the flat and on to the landing > where the ARP warden was emerging from the lift. > > (OOC - anyone else joining them?) Pamela prudently stayed right where she was. No point risking more injuries, not without greater cause than this. She did, however, find herself wishing that the lump under her arm wasn't Esme's handbag. From rmpruehs at cac.net Fri Dec 24 18:46:19 2004 From: rmpruehs at cac.net (Ree Moorhead Pruehs) Date: Fri Dec 24 18:47:08 2004 Subject: [MaC] An Interruption In-Reply-To: <01a601c4ea0d$e5124230$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041224152113.27680.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com> <41CC3E66.3090006@textartisan.com> <010e01c4e9d5$44faced0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <5.1.0.14.0.20041224144603.02e2ec28@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <016401c4e9f3$ca6751b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <3b089f7c0412241234299954b4@mail.gmail.com> <01a601c4ea0d$e5124230$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <6.2.0.14.0.20041224184519.0418ff18@mail.cac.net> At 06:11 PM 12/24/2004, you wrote: >>>And almost immediately he stumbled and fell ... and Florence Beaman let out >>>a yelp of pain. >>> >>>The lift was clanking up to the lower floor of the penthouse. >>> >>>"Well," said Lucinda, "someone had better go and meet the man." >>> >>>She began to edge her way towards the stairs down to the lower floor. >> >>Michael set a hand on Tabitha's in reassurace. "I'm sure it's >>nothing." He tossed back his brandy and headed for the door. >> >>"Mrs. S-N, it's Commander Coldsmith-Briggs," he called. "No need for >>you to go, I'll meet them." > >In fact, Lucia was half way down the stairs when Michael caught up with >her ... and together they went out of the flat and on to the landing where >the ARP warden was emerging from the lift. > >(OOC - anyone else joining them?) > >"You were showing a light," he said curtly. "Top floor - that flat." He >pointed to the Fitzroys' flat. > >"We're very sorry," said Lucinda. "We've put all the lights out >now. Will you come and check?" Before he could enter Vangie joined them on the landing. "I think she has the headache," she said to no one in particular before frowning at the ARP warden. "....what seems to be the matter?" From Mrfury28 at aol.com Fri Dec 24 18:56:07 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Fri Dec 24 18:56:13 2004 Subject: [MaC] An Interruption Message-ID: <102.5709fe49.2efe0697@aol.com> "Well," said Lucinda, "someone had better go and meet the man." She began to edge her way towards the stairs down to the lower floor. "Allow me, madam." Hodges voice could be heard from behind the makeshift bar. "I'm still in Home Guard; I'll see what the trouble is." -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041224/451324bd/attachment.htm From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Fri Dec 24 19:02:12 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Fri Dec 24 19:02:17 2004 Subject: [MaC] An Interruption In-Reply-To: <102.5709fe49.2efe0697@aol.com> Message-ID: <018601c4ea14$ffa8e200$96f1fea9@BriansPC> > "Well," said Lucinda, "someone had better go and meet the man." Philip's voice came from somewhere near the door. "I'll go." > "Allow me, madam." Hodges voice could be heard from behind the > makeshift bar. "I'm still in Home Guard; I'll see what the > trouble is." "As you wish, Mr. Hodges, but I'll come along; no one should be stumbling about alone in this dark." From veazeyae at gmail.com Fri Dec 24 19:15:19 2004 From: veazeyae at gmail.com (Allen Veazey) Date: Fri Dec 24 19:15:21 2004 Subject: [MaC] An Interruption In-Reply-To: <41CCA2D5.6080808@textartisan.com> References: <20041224152113.27680.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com> <41CC3E66.3090006@textartisan.com> <010e01c4e9d5$44faced0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <5.1.0.14.0.20041224144603.02e2ec28@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <016401c4e9f3$ca6751b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <3b089f7c0412241234299954b4@mail.gmail.com> <01a601c4ea0d$e5124230$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41CCA2D5.6080808@textartisan.com> Message-ID: > Pamela prudently stayed right where she was. No point risking more > injuries, not without greater cause than this. She did, however, find > herself wishing that the lump under her arm wasn't Esme's handbag. > "Bother," Warren said, from his seat at the bar. He patted his pockets, wishing for the twentieth time that he had been allowed to smoke in hospital; he had gotten out of the habit of carrying cigarettes and matches, and they were impossible to find once he had gotten settled in here in London. Right now, he'd be more of a hindrance than a help, anyway. He carefully slid his hands across the bar, to where he remembered Hodges had set the gin bottle. From jjkatalenic at yahoo.com Fri Dec 24 19:53:28 2004 From: jjkatalenic at yahoo.com (Jonathan Katalenic) Date: Fri Dec 24 19:53:29 2004 Subject: [MaC] An Interruption In-Reply-To: Message-ID: <20041225005328.39611.qmail@web20227.mail.yahoo.com> "Bother," Warren said, from his seat at the bar. He patted his pockets, wishing for the twentieth time that he had been allowed to smoke in hospital; he had gotten out of the habit of carrying cigarettes and matches, and they were impossible to find once he had gotten settled in here in London. Right now, he'd be more of a hindrance than a help, anyway. He carefully slid his hands across the bar, to where he remembered Hodges had set the gin bottle. Nicola paused in her attempts at assisting Mrs. Beaman and instead fumbled around in her small clutch purse for a book of matches. "Where are you, where are you?" she asked. Finally her gloved hand closed around the small matchbook. She silently cheered, opened the book and attempted to strike the match. After a few failures, one match sprung to life. A small glow emanated from it, illuminating a few feet around it. __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? The all-new My Yahoo! - What will yours do? http://my.yahoo.com From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Fri Dec 24 20:27:39 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Fri Dec 24 20:27:45 2004 Subject: [MaC] The ARP warden arrives - and leaves References: <20041224152113.27680.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com><41CC3E66.3090006@textartisan.com><010e01c4e9d5$44faced0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><5.1.0.14.0.20041224144603.02e2ec28@pop.mail.yahoo.com><016401c4e9f3$ca6751b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><3b089f7c0412241234299954b4@mail.gmail.com><01a601c4ea0d$e5124230$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <6.2.0.14.0.20041224184519.0418ff18@mail.cac.net> Message-ID: <01e701c4ea20$ec453c70$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >>In fact, Lucia was half way down the stairs when Michael caught up with >>her ... and together they went out of the flat and on to the landing where >>the ARP warden was emerging from the lift. >> They were followed by Hodges (in his shirt sleeves) and Philip Powell, still holding his drink. >> >>"You were showing a light," he said curtly. "Top floor - that flat." He >>pointed to the Fitzroys' flat. >> >>"We're very sorry," said Lucinda. "We've put all the lights out now. >>Will you come and check?" > > Before he could enter Vangie joined them on the landing. "I think she has > the headache," she said to no one in particular before frowning at the ARP > warden. "....what seems to be the matter?" "Light showing, Ma'am," said the warden. "Have to check it out." He walked into the Fitzoys' flat and pointed upwards. ""Light coming from that there," he said, taking out a torch. "At least, it was." He started up the stairs. "Wait!" said Lucinda. "My husband said something about a bomb ... an unexploded bomb." He turned, swinging the torch, and it illuminated all the gathered faces. "That's right, Ma'am," he agreed. "We're asking you all to stay in here until it's defused. You'll be safe enough inside - but we can't guarantee anyone wandering about. You will be notified." Then he carried on climbing, emerging soon enough into the darkened lounge. The sound of the piano was starting again - a classical piece this time. Marty Fitzroy's voice rang out. "We've put all the lights out, Warden." "That's all right, Sir," said the warden. "I know which window it was." He moved across to close by the bar and adjusted the curtain back into position. "There's a tear in this," he said. "Best get it stitched up in the morning." Oswald, standing near the light switch, switched on - and the room was flooded with light. Most people seemed to be in the room - apart from Esme, Cyril, Anton and Nola. "Well it wasn't there last night," Marty Fitzroy indignantly. "Could have been caused by someone brushing past with something sharp," said the warden. "Tears easily, this stuff does - if it's taut." And certainly the bar had been the busiest corner. "I'll be off then," said the warden - unless you'd like me to have a look round ... " "That will be all right," said Marty. "Just tell us about this bomb." The warden repeated his earlier warning and then took his leave, Marty Fitzroy escorting him to the lift - as though to make sure he'd really leave. The lift was slowly clanking its way down ... and Marty returned. "Now I need a drink," he announced. "Hodges - a brandy and soda. With not too much soda." His mood seemed to have taken yet another turn for the worse. From veazeyae at gmail.com Fri Dec 24 21:06:54 2004 From: veazeyae at gmail.com (Allen Veazey) Date: Fri Dec 24 21:06:58 2004 Subject: [MaC] The ARP warden arrives - and leaves In-Reply-To: <01e701c4ea20$ec453c70$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041224152113.27680.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com> <41CC3E66.3090006@textartisan.com> <010e01c4e9d5$44faced0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <5.1.0.14.0.20041224144603.02e2ec28@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <016401c4e9f3$ca6751b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <3b089f7c0412241234299954b4@mail.gmail.com> <01a601c4ea0d$e5124230$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <6.2.0.14.0.20041224184519.0418ff18@mail.cac.net> <01e701c4ea20$ec453c70$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: > "I'll be off then," said the warden - unless you'd like me to have a look > round ... " > > "That will be all right," said Marty. "Just tell us about this bomb." > > The warden repeated his earlier warning and then took his leave, Marty > Fitzroy escorting him to the lift - as though to make sure he'd really > leave. > > The lift was slowly clanking its way down ... and Marty returned. > > "Now I need a drink," he announced. "Hodges - a brandy and soda. With not > too much soda." > > His mood seemed to have taken yet another turn for the worse. "And bother again," Warren said. "Frightful things, unexploded bombs. Have a habit of going off an hour or a week later. At the airfield, they've gotten into the habit of getting a sharpshooter and plinking at the thing from a distance... something wrong, Mister Fitzroy?" From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Fri Dec 24 21:07:34 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Fri Dec 24 21:07:34 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music References: <20041224152113.27680.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com><41CC3E66.3090006@textartisan.com><010e01c4e9d5$44faced0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><5.1.0.14.0.20041224144603.02e2ec28@pop.mail.yahoo.com><016401c4e9f3$ca6751b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><3b089f7c0412241234299954b4@mail.gmail.com><01a601c4ea0d$e5124230$0202a8c0@Behemoth><6.2.0.14.0.20041224184519.0418ff18@mail.cac.net> <01e701c4ea20$ec453c70$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <01f501c4ea26$7fb7b820$0202a8c0@Behemoth> The party was continuing after the disruption of the warden's visit ... There was still no sign of Esme (although Cyril might have re-appeared by now). When suddenly the music of the piano in Anton Barowennski's flat broke off abruptly. A pause, and then Anton himself appeared at the service door of the flat. No-one had vever seen him like this - white faced, shakingm his dark eyes wild. "Come," he said. "You must come ..." His eyes moved around the room, as though searching for someone. And then suddenly, shockingly, he sank to the ground, buried his face in his hands, and wept. "Come on," said Oswald briefly. (OOC - who's staying with Barowenski and who's going to his flat?) The service door led to the small bare corridor where only the service lift protruded. It was possible to see the service doors to all four of the penthouses too ... Baropwenski's was open, but all inside was dark. When they first entered, 6the flat was in virtual darkness. There was a faint light from some device - a wireless gramophone, it seemed. But little could be distinguished by that. Oswald walked towards the light switch and snapped it on. And then all those present saw her ... Nola Diamond. She was lying on the settee, and at first glance it seemed as though she had fallen asleep there, her dark red hair falling across her face. But there was something strangely still about her. Oswald, with an exclamation, walked forward and lifted the hair to reveal a little of her neck. And then they all saw the marks left by a ligature that had bitten deeply into the pale flesh. "I'm afraid," said Oswald, "she's dead." From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Fri Dec 24 21:10:20 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Fri Dec 24 21:10:23 2004 Subject: [MaC] The ARP warden arrives - and leaves References: <20041224152113.27680.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com><41CC3E66.3090006@textartisan.com><010e01c4e9d5$44faced0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><5.1.0.14.0.20041224144603.02e2ec28@pop.mail.yahoo.com><016401c4e9f3$ca6751b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><3b089f7c0412241234299954b4@mail.gmail.com><01a601c4ea0d$e5124230$0202a8c0@Behemoth><6.2.0.14.0.20041224184519.0418ff18@mail.cac.net><01e701c4ea20$ec453c70$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <01fb01c4ea26$e2fcc650$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> "I'll be off then," said the warden - unless you'd like me to have a look >> round ... " >> >> "That will be all right," said Marty. "Just tell us about this bomb." >> >> The warden repeated his earlier warning and then took his leave, Marty >> Fitzroy escorting him to the lift - as though to make sure he'd really >> leave. >> >> The lift was slowly clanking its way down ... and Marty returned. >> >> "Now I need a drink," he announced. "Hodges - a brandy and soda. With >> not >> too much soda." >> >> His mood seemed to have taken yet another turn for the worse. > > "And bother again," Warren said. "Frightful things, unexploded bombs. > Have a habit of going off an hour or a week later. At the airfield, > they've gotten into the habit of getting a sharpshooter and > plinking at the thing from a distance... something wrong, Mister > Fitzroy?" > Fitzroy was looking apoplectic. "You're not suggesting we do that 'ere, I 'ope?" he growled at Warren. From dorothea at textartisan.com Fri Dec 24 21:18:45 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Fri Dec 24 21:20:49 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music In-Reply-To: <01f501c4ea26$7fb7b820$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041224152113.27680.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com><41CC3E66.3090006@textartisan.com><010e01c4e9d5$44faced0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><5.1.0.14.0.20041224144603.02e2ec28@pop.mail.yahoo.com><016401c4e9f3$ca6751b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><3b089f7c0412241234299954b4@mail.gmail.com><01a601c4ea0d$e5124230$0202a8c0@Behemoth><6.2.0.14.0.20041224184519.0418ff18@mail.cac.net> <01e701c4ea20$ec453c70$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <01f501c4ea26$7fb7b820$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41CCCE05.6060900@textartisan.com> Mel Mason wrote: > The party was continuing after the disruption of the warden's visit ... > There was still no sign of Esme (although Cyril might have re-appeared > by now). > > When suddenly the music of the piano in Anton Barowennski's flat broke > off abruptly. A pause, and then Anton himself appeared at the service > door of the flat. No-one had vever seen him like this - white faced, > shakingm his dark eyes wild. > > "Come," he said. "You must come ..." His eyes moved around the room, > as though searching for someone. And then suddenly, shockingly, he sank > to the ground, buried his face in his hands, and wept. > > "Come on," said Oswald briefly. "Right behind you," Pamela said, her face set. "Mum, take someone downstairs with you and get my bag, would you please? It's in the front hall." > And then all those present saw her ... Nola Diamond. > > She was lying on the settee, and at first glance it seemed as though she > had fallen asleep there, her dark red hair falling across her face. But > there was something strangely still about her. Oswald, with an > exclamation, walked forward and lifted the hair to reveal a little of > her neck. And then they all saw the marks left by a ligature that had > bitten deeply into the pale flesh. > > "I'm afraid," said Oswald, "she's dead." "Well, best to be sure," Pamela said firmly. "Bear witness, Mr. Skeffington-Nottle, won't you? Just as well I wore gloves this evening." And she bent to touch her first two fingers to the pulse-point in The Actress's lacerated throat. From hmace at elfworks.com Fri Dec 24 21:25:40 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Fri Dec 24 21:25:41 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <01f501c4ea26$7fb7b820$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041224152113.27680.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com><41CC3E66.3090006@textartisan.com><010e01c4e9d5$44faced0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><5.1.0.14.0.20041224144603.02e2ec28@pop.mail.yahoo.com><016401c4e9f3$ca6751b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><3b089f7c0412241234299954b4@mail.gmail.com><01a601c4ea0d$e5124230$0202a8c0@Behemoth><6.2.0.14.0.20041224184519.0418ff18@mail.cac.net> <01e701c4ea20$ec453c70$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <01f501c4ea26$7fb7b820$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41CCCFA4.7010105@elfworks.com> > The party was continuing after the disruption of the warden's visit ... > There was still no sign of Esme (although Cyril might have re-appeared > by now). > > When suddenly the music of the piano in Anton Barowennski's flat broke > off abruptly. A pause, and then Anton himself appeared at the service > door of the flat. No-one had vever seen him like this - white faced, > shakingm his dark eyes wild. > > "Come," he said. "You must come ..." His eyes moved around the room, > as though searching for someone. And then suddenly, shockingly, he sank > to the ground, buried his face in his hands, and wept. > > "Come on," said Oswald briefly. > > (OOC - who's staying with Barowenski and who's going to his flat?) Marjorie hopped off her stool and rushed to Barowenski's side. "Goodness! What's happened?" she asked the pianist, trying to gently get him to sit up by grasping his shoulders. From veazeyae at gmail.com Fri Dec 24 21:30:24 2004 From: veazeyae at gmail.com (Allen Veazey) Date: Fri Dec 24 21:30:34 2004 Subject: [MaC] The ARP warden arrives - and leaves In-Reply-To: <01fb01c4ea26$e2fcc650$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041224152113.27680.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com> <010e01c4e9d5$44faced0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <5.1.0.14.0.20041224144603.02e2ec28@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <016401c4e9f3$ca6751b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <3b089f7c0412241234299954b4@mail.gmail.com> <01a601c4ea0d$e5124230$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <6.2.0.14.0.20041224184519.0418ff18@mail.cac.net> <01e701c4ea20$ec453c70$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <01fb01c4ea26$e2fcc650$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: > > "And bother again," Warren said. "Frightful things, unexploded bombs. > > Have a habit of going off an hour or a week later. At the airfield, > > they've gotten into the habit of getting a sharpshooter and > > plinking at the thing from a distance... something wrong, Mister > > Fitzroy?" > > > > Fitzroy was looking apoplectic. "You're not suggesting we do that 'ere, I > 'ope?" he growled at Warren. It was Worthington's turn to look flustered. "Oh! Oh, goodness, no. Just saying, that's all." He attempted a smile. "We set that off, Father Christmas might give us all a miss this year." From jjkatalenic at yahoo.com Fri Dec 24 21:35:59 2004 From: jjkatalenic at yahoo.com (Jonathan Katalenic) Date: Fri Dec 24 21:36:05 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <41CCCFA4.7010105@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <20041225023559.52194.qmail@web20226.mail.yahoo.com> Marjorie hopped off her stool and rushed to Barowenski's side. "Goodness! What's happened?" she asked the pianist, trying to gently get him to sit up by grasping his shoulders. Nicola also hurried to Barowenski. "Oh, dear me," she said. "Marjorie, darling, let's get him onto the chaise." She hooked her arm under his other shoulder and worked with Marjorie to get him onto the nearby chaise lounge. "Mr. Barowenski, sir, you must stop that," Nicola said. With her free hand, she attempted to hand him what remained of her gin and tonic. "Have a sip of this and try to get a hold of yourself! Now tell us what's happened!" __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? The all-new My Yahoo! - What will yours do? http://my.yahoo.com From veazeyae at gmail.com Fri Dec 24 21:44:58 2004 From: veazeyae at gmail.com (Allen Veazey) Date: Fri Dec 24 21:45:03 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music In-Reply-To: <41CCCE05.6060900@textartisan.com> References: <20041224152113.27680.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com> <010e01c4e9d5$44faced0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <5.1.0.14.0.20041224144603.02e2ec28@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <016401c4e9f3$ca6751b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <3b089f7c0412241234299954b4@mail.gmail.com> <01a601c4ea0d$e5124230$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <6.2.0.14.0.20041224184519.0418ff18@mail.cac.net> <01e701c4ea20$ec453c70$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <01f501c4ea26$7fb7b820$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41CCCE05.6060900@textartisan.com> Message-ID: > > And then all those present saw her ... Nola Diamond. > > > > She was lying on the settee, and at first glance it seemed as though she > > had fallen asleep there, her dark red hair falling across her face. But > > there was something strangely still about her. Oswald, with an > > exclamation, walked forward and lifted the hair to reveal a little of > > her neck. And then they all saw the marks left by a ligature that had > > bitten deeply into the pale flesh. > > > > "I'm afraid," said Oswald, "she's dead." > > "Well, best to be sure," Pamela said firmly. "Bear witness, Mr. > Skeffington-Nottle, won't you? Just as well I wore gloves this evening." > And she bent to touch her first two fingers to the pulse-point in The > Actress's lacerated throat. The sight of Anton's ashen face and Oswald's "Come on!" did what even the blackout couldn't- got Warren off of his stool and through the door. It took him a little time, but he finally arrived at Anton's flat with the others. "But she... she was just... right next to me!" he exclaimed. She was just right there... " and then he swallowed; he appeared to be trying to keep from vomiting. "Sorry," he said, his eyes watering from the effort. "it's one thing to be flying and in combat... it's quite another to see this up close... and a lady..." From rmpruehs at cac.net Fri Dec 24 21:46:29 2004 From: rmpruehs at cac.net (Ree Moorhead Pruehs) Date: Fri Dec 24 21:47:01 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music In-Reply-To: <41CCCE05.6060900@textartisan.com> References: <20041224152113.27680.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com> <41CC3E66.3090006@textartisan.com> <010e01c4e9d5$44faced0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <5.1.0.14.0.20041224144603.02e2ec28@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <016401c4e9f3$ca6751b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <3b089f7c0412241234299954b4@mail.gmail.com> <01a601c4ea0d$e5124230$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <6.2.0.14.0.20041224184519.0418ff18@mail.cac.net> <01e701c4ea20$ec453c70$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <01f501c4ea26$7fb7b820$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41CCCE05.6060900@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <6.2.0.14.0.20041224214609.0434ac08@mail.cac.net> At 09:18 PM 12/24/2004, you wrote: >Mel Mason wrote: >>The party was continuing after the disruption of the warden's visit ... >>There was still no sign of Esme (although Cyril might have re-appeared by now). >>When suddenly the music of the piano in Anton Barowennski's flat broke >>off abruptly. A pause, and then Anton himself appeared at the service >>door of the flat. No-one had vever seen him like this - white faced, >>shakingm his dark eyes wild. >>"Come," he said. "You must come ..." His eyes moved around the room, as >>though searching for someone. And then suddenly, shockingly, he sank to >>the ground, buried his face in his hands, and wept. >>"Come on," said Oswald briefly. > > "Right behind you," Pamela said, her face set. "Mum, take someone > downstairs with you and get my bag, would you please? It's in the front hall." [ooc: What has become of Esme's purse?] From dorothea at textartisan.com Fri Dec 24 21:47:24 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Fri Dec 24 21:49:20 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music In-Reply-To: <6.2.0.14.0.20041224214609.0434ac08@mail.cac.net> References: <20041224152113.27680.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com> <41CC3E66.3090006@textartisan.com> <010e01c4e9d5$44faced0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <5.1.0.14.0.20041224144603.02e2ec28@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <016401c4e9f3$ca6751b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <3b089f7c0412241234299954b4@mail.gmail.com> <01a601c4ea0d$e5124230$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <6.2.0.14.0.20041224184519.0418ff18@mail.cac.net> <01e701c4ea20$ec453c70$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <01f501c4ea26$7fb7b820$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41CCCE05.6060900@textartisan.com> <6.2.0.14.0.20041224214609.0434ac08@mail.cac.net> Message-ID: <41CCD4BC.9050805@textartisan.com> > [ooc: What has become of Esme's purse?] [ Pamela has it at present, I believe. ] From jvstin at mindspring.com Fri Dec 24 22:01:40 2004 From: jvstin at mindspring.com (Jvstin(Mindspring)) Date: Fri Dec 24 22:01:50 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <20041225023559.52194.qmail@web20226.mail.yahoo.com> References: <20041225023559.52194.qmail@web20226.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <41CCD814.3030901@mindspring.com> on 12/24/2004 8:35 PM Jonathan Katalenic said the following: > Marjorie hopped off her stool and rushed to > Barowenski's side. "Goodness! What's happened?" she > asked the pianist, trying to gently get him to sit up > by grasping his shoulders. > > Nicola also hurried to Barowenski. "Oh, dear me," she > said. "Marjorie, darling, let's get him onto the > chaise." She hooked her arm under his other shoulder > and worked with Marjorie to get him onto the nearby > chaise lounge. "Mr. Barowenski, sir, you must stop > that," Nicola said. With her free hand, she attempted > to hand him what remained of her gin and tonic. "Have > a sip of this and try to get a hold of yourself! Now > tell us what's happened!" > James was third to the musician behind the ladies. "Anton." he said, putting a full Polish pronunciation to his name with a practiced ease. "Easy, old boy. Slowly, now." He nodded as Nicola tried to give Anton some of the gin. "Take a sip, compose yourself." From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Fri Dec 24 22:24:21 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Fri Dec 24 22:24:21 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music In-Reply-To: <01f501c4ea26$7fb7b820$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <018901c4ea31$3cd18e40$96f1fea9@BriansPC> > (OOC - who's staying with Barowenski and who's going to his flat?) Philip, a concerned expression on his face, followed immediately. He looked around the flat before leaving, as though to determine if anyone was missing. > And then all those present saw her ... Nola Diamond. > > She was lying on the settee, and at first glance it seemed as > though she had fallen asleep there, her dark red hair falling > across her face. But there was something strangely still about > her. Oswald, with an exclamation, walked forward and lifted the > hair to reveal a little of her neck. And then they all saw the > marks left by a ligature that had bitten deeply into the pale > flesh. > > "I'm afraid," said Oswald, "she's dead." "Good God," Philip said, and closed his eyes momentarily. After a moment, they opened again, and he looked at the injury to her neck. "Murdered, you mean." From margdean at erols.com Fri Dec 24 22:53:50 2004 From: margdean at erols.com (Margaret Dean) Date: Fri Dec 24 22:54:50 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge References: <20041224152113.27680.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com><41CC3E66.3090006@textartisan.com><010e01c4e9d5$44faced0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><5.1.0.14.0.20041224144603.02e2ec28@pop.mail.yahoo.com><016401c4e9f3$ca6751b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><3b089f7c0412241234299954b4@mail.gmail.com><01a601c4ea0d$e5124230$0202a8c0@Behemoth><6.2.0.14.0.20041224184519.0418ff18@mail.cac.net> <01e701c4ea20$ec453c70$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <01f501c4ea26$7fb7b820$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41CCCFA4.7010105@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <41CCE44E.CE8C3AC6@erols.com> Heather Mace wrote: > > > The party was continuing after the disruption of the warden's visit ... > > There was still no sign of Esme (although Cyril might have re-appeared > > by now). > > > > When suddenly the music of the piano in Anton Barowenski's flat broke > > off abruptly. A pause, and then Anton himself appeared at the service > > door of the flat. No-one had ever seen him like this - white faced, > > shaking, his dark eyes wild. > > > > "Come," he said. "You must come ..." His eyes moved around the room, > > as though searching for someone. And then suddenly, shockingly, he sank > > to the ground, buried his face in his hands, and wept. > > > > "Come on," said Oswald briefly. > > > > (OOC - who's staying with Barowenski and who's going to his flat?) > > Marjorie hopped off her stool and rushed to Barowenski's side. > "Goodness! What's happened?" she asked the pianist, trying to > gently get him to sit up by grasping his shoulders. Marion Mauberly, who had been standing near the bar when the pianist emerged into the room, took one step, almost involuntarily, toward the distressed man. As Marjorie and then Nicola and Philip descended on him, however, her reporter's instincts evidently took over. Hurrying past the little group, she followed a little way behind Oswald and Pamela, through the service entrance into Anton's flat. --Margaret Dean From margdean at erols.com Fri Dec 24 22:55:39 2004 From: margdean at erols.com (Margaret Dean) Date: Fri Dec 24 22:56:33 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge References: <20041224152113.27680.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com><41CC3E66.3090006@textartisan.com><010e01c4e9d5$44faced0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><5.1.0.14.0.20041224144603.02e2ec28@pop.mail.yahoo.com><016401c4e9f3$ca6751b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><3b089f7c0412241234299954b4@mail.gmail.com><01a601c4ea0d$e5124230$0202a8c0@Behemoth><6.2.0.14.0.20041224184519.0418ff18@mail.cac.net> <01e701c4ea20$ec453c70$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <01f501c4ea26$7fb7b820$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41CCCFA4.7010105@elfworks.com> <41CCE44E.CE8C3AC6@erols.com> Message-ID: <41CCE4BB.E201601@erols.com> Margaret Dean wrote: > > Heather Mace wrote: > > > > > The party was continuing after the disruption of the warden's visit ... > > > There was still no sign of Esme (although Cyril might have re-appeared > > > by now). > > > > > > When suddenly the music of the piano in Anton Barowenski's flat broke > > > off abruptly. A pause, and then Anton himself appeared at the service > > > door of the flat. No-one had ever seen him like this - white faced, > > > shaking, his dark eyes wild. > > > > > > "Come," he said. "You must come ..." His eyes moved around the room, > > > as though searching for someone. And then suddenly, shockingly, he sank > > > to the ground, buried his face in his hands, and wept. > > > > > > "Come on," said Oswald briefly. > > > > > > (OOC - who's staying with Barowenski and who's going to his flat?) > > > > Marjorie hopped off her stool and rushed to Barowenski's side. > > "Goodness! What's happened?" she asked the pianist, trying to > > gently get him to sit up by grasping his shoulders. > > Marion Mauberly, who had been standing near the bar when the > pianist emerged into the room, took one step, almost > involuntarily, toward the distressed man. As Marjorie and then > Nicola and James [OOC: Sorry, I meant James!] > descended on him, however, her reporter's > instincts evidently took over. Hurrying past the little group, > she followed a little way behind Oswald and Pamela, through the > service entrance into Anton's flat. --Margaret Dean From margdean at erols.com Fri Dec 24 23:04:07 2004 From: margdean at erols.com (Margaret Dean) Date: Fri Dec 24 23:05:02 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music References: <20041224152113.27680.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com> <010e01c4e9d5$44faced0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <5.1.0.14.0.20041224144603.02e2ec28@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <016401c4e9f3$ca6751b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <3b089f7c0412241234299954b4@mail.gmail.com> <01a601c4ea0d$e5124230$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <6.2.0.14.0.20041224184519.0418ff18@mail.cac.net> <01e701c4ea20$ec453c70$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <01f501c4ea26$7fb7b820$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41CCCE05.6060900@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <41CCE6B7.2B7C70A5@erols.com> Allen Veazey wrote: > > > > And then all those present saw her ... Nola Diamond. > > > > > > She was lying on the settee, and at first glance it seemed as though > > > she had fallen asleep there, her dark red hair falling across her > > > face. But there was something strangely still about her. Oswald, > > > with an exclamation, walked forward and lifted the hair to reveal a > > > little of her neck. And then they all saw the marks left by a > > > ligature that had bitten deeply into the pale flesh. > > > > > > "I'm afraid," said Oswald, "she's dead." > > > > "Well, best to be sure," Pamela said firmly. "Bear witness, > > Mr. Skeffington-Nottle, won't you? Just as well I wore gloves this > > evening." And she bent to touch her first two fingers to the pulse- > > point in The Actress's lacerated throat. > > The sight of Anton's ashen face and Oswald's "Come on!" did > what even the blackout couldn't- got Warren off of his stool and > through the door. It took him a little time, but he finally arrived > at Anton's flat with the others. > > "But she... she was just... right next to me!" he exclaimed. > She was just right there... " and then he swallowed; he appeared > to be trying to keep from vomiting. > > "Sorry," he said, his eyes watering from the effort. "it's one > thing to be flying and in combat... it's quite another to see > this up close... and a lady..." Marion had come up next to him and looked almost as white-faced as he did, though this was not the first murder scene she had ever viewed. "But how could he..." she whispered, "...sit here playing ... and not see it, till now?" --Margaret Dean From Mrfury28 at aol.com Fri Dec 24 23:24:01 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Fri Dec 24 23:24:09 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge Message-ID: <88.1cb2429f.2efe4561@aol.com> Marjorie hopped off her stool and rushed to Barowenski's side. "Goodness! What's happened?" she asked the pianist, trying to gently get him to sit up by grasping his shoulders. Hodges saw that the Pole was badly shaken. He returned to the bar, poured a large snifter of brandy, and handed it to the man. "Here you are sir, steady your nerves. Sit down and recover your wits." -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041224/ef441377/attachment.htm From jadethe2nd at yahoo.com Sat Dec 25 04:08:16 2004 From: jadethe2nd at yahoo.com (Jade) Date: Sat Dec 25 04:08:29 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music In-Reply-To: <41CCE6B7.2B7C70A5@erols.com> Message-ID: <20041225090816.45081.qmail@web60807.mail.yahoo.com> --- Margaret Dean wrote: > Allen Veazey wrote: > > > > > > And then all those present saw her ... Nola > Diamond. > > > > > > > > She was lying on the settee, and at first > glance it seemed as though > > > > she had fallen asleep there, her dark red hair > falling across her > > > > face. But there was something strangely still > about her. Oswald, > > > > with an exclamation, walked forward and lifted > the hair to reveal a > > > > little of her neck. And then they all saw the > marks left by a > > > > ligature that had bitten deeply into the pale > flesh. > > > > > > > > "I'm afraid," said Oswald, "she's dead." > > > > > > "Well, best to be sure," Pamela said > firmly. "Bear witness, > > > Mr. Skeffington-Nottle, won't you? Just as well > I wore gloves this > > > evening." And she bent to touch her first two > fingers to the pulse- > > > point in The Actress's lacerated throat. > > > > The sight of Anton's ashen face and Oswald's "Come > on!" did > > what even the blackout couldn't- got Warren off of > his stool and > > through the door. It took him a little time, but > he finally arrived > > at Anton's flat with the others. > > > > "But she... she was just... right next to me!" he > exclaimed. > > She was just right there... " and then he > swallowed; he appeared > > to be trying to keep from vomiting. > > > > "Sorry," he said, his eyes watering from the > effort. "it's one > > thing to be flying and in combat... it's quite > another to see > > this up close... and a lady..." > > Marion had come up next to him and looked almost as > white-faced > as he did, though this was not the first murder > scene she had > ever viewed. > > "But how could he..." she whispered, "...sit here > playing ... and > not see it, till now?" > "In the dark, you mean?" asked Tabitha, appearing in the doorway. "I should imagine it would be more difficult to see it than not. He was probably paying more attention to his music than his surroundings, anyway." She moved towards the settee, where Lady Pamela was attempting to find a pulse, and looked at Nola Diamond with the detached expression of someone who had seen far too many dead bodies in her life. __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around http://mail.yahoo.com From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Sat Dec 25 06:00:46 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Sat Dec 25 06:00:59 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music References: <20041225090816.45081.qmail@web60807.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <004901c4ea70$fcab2d90$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> > > > And then all those present saw her ... Nola >> Diamond. >> > > > >> > > > She was lying on the settee, and at first >> glance it seemed as though >> > > > she had fallen asleep there, her dark red hair >> falling across her >> > > > face. But there was something strangely still >> about her. Oswald, >> > > > with an exclamation, walked forward and lifted >> the hair to reveal a >> > > > little of her neck. And then they all saw the >> marks left by a >> > > > ligature that had bitten deeply into the pale >> flesh. >> > > > >> > > > "I'm afraid," said Oswald, "she's dead." >> > > "Good God," Philip said, and closed his eyes momentarily. After a moment, they opened again, and he looked at the injury to her neck. "Murdered, you mean." >> > > "Well, best to be sure," Pamela said >> firmly. "Bear witness, >> > > Mr. Skeffington-Nottle, won't you? Just as well >> I wore gloves this >> > > evening." And she bent to touch her first two >> fingers to the pulse- >> > > point in The Actress's lacerated throat. There was no response - but she did see how cruelly something had cut into the pale skin - something that had been removed. The signs were that Philip was right - this was no accident or suicide ... >> > >> > The sight of Anton's ashen face and Oswald's "Come >> on!" did >> > what even the blackout couldn't- got Warren off of >> his stool and >> > through the door. It took him a little time, but >> he finally arrived >> > at Anton's flat with the others. >> > >> > "But she... she was just... right next to me!" he >> exclaimed. >> > She was just right there... " and then he >> swallowed; he appeared >> > to be trying to keep from vomiting. >> > >> > "Sorry," he said, his eyes watering from the >> effort. "it's one >> > thing to be flying and in combat... it's quite >> another to see >> > this up close... and a lady..." >> >> Marion had come up next to him and looked almost as >> white-faced >> as he did, though this was not the first murder >> scene she had >> ever viewed. >> >> "But how could he..." she whispered, "...sit here >> playing ... and >> not see it, till now?" >> > > "In the dark, you mean?" asked Tabitha, appearing in > the doorway. "I should imagine it would be more > difficult to see it than not. He was probably paying > more attention to his music than his surroundings, > anyway." She moved towards the settee, where Lady > Pamela was attempting to find a pulse, and looked at > Nola Diamond with the detached expression of someone > who had seen far too many dead bodies in her life. > The hair had fallen back a little from the livid face now. It was ugly to look at - but her appearance also showed the clear signs of strangulation. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Sat Dec 25 06:11:14 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Sat Dec 25 06:11:23 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge References: <88.1cb2429f.2efe4561@aol.com> Message-ID: <005e01c4ea72$72fea980$0202a8c0@Behemoth> > > > When suddenly the music of the piano in Anton Barowenski's flat broke > > > off abruptly. A pause, and then Anton himself appeared at the service > > > door of the flat. No-one had ever seen him like this - white faced, > > > shaking, his dark eyes wild. > > > > > > "Come," he said. "You must come ..." His eyes moved around the room, > > > as though searching for someone. And then suddenly, shockingly, he > > > sank > > > to the ground, buried his face in his hands, and wept. > > > > > > "Come on," said Oswald briefly. > > > Marjorie hopped off her stool and rushed to Barowenski's side. "Goodness! What's happened?" she asked the pianist, trying to gently get him to sit up by grasping his shoulders. Nicola also hurried to Barowenski. "Oh, dear me," she said. "Marjorie, darling, let's get him onto the chaise." She hooked her arm under his other shoulder and worked with Marjorie to get him onto the nearby chaise lounge. "Mr. Barowenski, sir, you must stop that," Nicola said. With her free hand, she attempted to hand him what remained of her gin and tonic. "Have a sip of this and try to get a hold of yourself! Now tell us what's happened!" James was third to the musician behind the ladies. "Anton." he said, putting a full Polish pronunciation to his name with a practiced ease. "Easy, old boy. Slowly, now." He nodded as Nicola tried to give Anton some of the gin. "Take a sip, compose yourself." > > Marion Mauberly, who had been standing near the bar when the > pianist emerged into the room, took one step, almost > involuntarily, toward the distressed man. As Marjorie and then > Nicola and James descended on him, however, her reporter's > instincts evidently took over. Hurrying past the little group, > she followed a little way behind Oswald and Pamela, through the > service entrance into Anton's flat. Hodges saw that the Pole was badly shaken. He returned to the bar, poured a large snifter of brandy, and handed it to the man. "Here you are sir, steady your nerves. Sit down and recover your wits." Anton, by now seated on on of the over-stuffed settees, accepted the brandy, shuddered, and then tossed off a good portion of it in a single gulp. Then he spoke, low and fast - and in Polish. "To byl okropne! Okropny! Gral fortepian. Szukam - i zobacze jej. I ona byl martwa! Martwy!" (OOC - I suspect the translator is weak - anyone in the room who is able to speak Polish (and who I don't know about) should email me for a translation. As far as I know, two characters are Polish speaker ...) From dorothea at textartisan.com Sat Dec 25 08:36:44 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Sat Dec 25 08:38:47 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music In-Reply-To: <004901c4ea70$fcab2d90$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041225090816.45081.qmail@web60807.mail.yahoo.com> <004901c4ea70$fcab2d90$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41CD6CEC.9040400@textartisan.com> > There was no response - but she did see how cruelly something had cut > into the pale skin - something that had been removed. > > The signs were that Philip was right - this was no accident or suicide ... "She is gone," Pamela confirmed quietly, straightening up. >> "In the dark, you mean?" asked Tabitha, appearing in >> the doorway. "I should imagine it would be more >> difficult to see it than not. He was probably paying >> more attention to his music than his surroundings, >> anyway." She moved towards the settee, where Lady >> Pamela was attempting to find a pulse, and looked at >> Nola Diamond with the detached expression of someone >> who had seen far too many dead bodies in her life. >> > > The hair had fallen back a little from the livid face now. It was ugly > to look at - but her appearance also showed the clear signs of > strangulation. "We'll never get a police matron past the UXB cordon," said Pamela. "Tabitha, Mrs. Skeffington-Nottle, perhaps you should examine her? The cause of death is -- obvious -- but you might learn other things. I shall willingly assist if you wish, but this -- practice -- goes a bit beyond my theory." Distress pinched Pamela's features, but she held both voice and hands steady. From jjkatalenic at yahoo.com Sat Dec 25 09:56:03 2004 From: jjkatalenic at yahoo.com (Jonathan Katalenic) Date: Sat Dec 25 09:56:11 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <005e01c4ea72$72fea980$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <20041225145603.3284.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com> Hodges saw that the Pole was badly shaken. He returned to the bar, poured a large snifter of brandy, and handed it to the man. "Here you are sir, steady your nerves. Sit down and recover your wits." Anton, by now seated on on of the over-stuffed settees, accepted the brandy, shuddered, and then tossed off a good portion of it in a single gulp. Then he spoke, low and fast - and in Polish. "To byl okropne! Okropny! Gral fortepian. Szukam - i zobacze jej. I ona byl martwa! Martwy!" "What on earth does that mean?" Nicola asked with a frown. She looked up at James and said, "Mr. Drake, darling, you speak Polish, don't you? What did he just say?" __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Meet the all-new My Yahoo! - Try it today! http://my.yahoo.com From jvstin at mindspring.com Sat Dec 25 10:11:09 2004 From: jvstin at mindspring.com (Jvstin(Mindspring)) Date: Sat Dec 25 10:11:51 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <005e01c4ea72$72fea980$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <88.1cb2429f.2efe4561@aol.com> <005e01c4ea72$72fea980$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41CD830D.5090400@mindspring.com> on 12/25/2004 5:11 AM Mel Mason said the following: >> > > When suddenly the music of the piano in Anton Barowenski's flat broke >> > > off abruptly. A pause, and then Anton himself appeared at the >> service >> > > door of the flat. No-one had ever seen him like this - white faced, >> > > shaking, his dark eyes wild. >> > > >> > > "Come," he said. "You must come ..." His eyes moved around the >> room, >> > > as though searching for someone. And then suddenly, shockingly, >> he > > sank >> > > to the ground, buried his face in his hands, and wept. >> > > >> > > "Come on," said Oswald briefly. >> > > > > Marjorie hopped off her stool and rushed to Barowenski's side. > "Goodness! What's happened?" she asked the pianist, trying to gently get > him to sit up by grasping his shoulders. > > Nicola also hurried to Barowenski. "Oh, dear me," she > said. "Marjorie, darling, let's get him onto the > chaise." She hooked her arm under his other shoulder > and worked with Marjorie to get him onto the nearby > chaise lounge. "Mr. Barowenski, sir, you must stop > that," Nicola said. With her free hand, she attempted > to hand him what remained of her gin and tonic. "Have > a sip of this and try to get a hold of yourself! Now > tell us what's happened!" > > James was third to the musician behind the ladies. > > "Anton." he said, putting a full Polish pronunciation to his name with a > practiced ease. "Easy, old boy. Slowly, now." He nodded as Nicola > tried to give Anton some of the gin. "Take a sip, compose yourself." > >> >> Marion Mauberly, who had been standing near the bar when the >> pianist emerged into the room, took one step, almost >> involuntarily, toward the distressed man. As Marjorie and then >> Nicola and James descended on him, however, her reporter's >> instincts evidently took over. Hurrying past the little group, >> she followed a little way behind Oswald and Pamela, through the >> service entrance into Anton's flat. > > > Hodges saw that the Pole was badly shaken. He returned to the bar, > poured a large snifter of brandy, and handed it to the man. "Here you > are sir, steady your nerves. Sit down and recover your wits." > > Anton, by now seated on on of the over-stuffed settees, accepted the > brandy, shuddered, and then tossed off a good portion of it in a single > gulp. > > Then he spoke, low and fast - and in Polish. "To byl okropne! Okropny! > Gral fortepian. Szukam - i zobacze jej. I ona byl martwa! Martwy!" > James looked alarmed at whatever Anton was saying. He put a hand on the musician's shoulder. "Who is?" he said. "Who?" He turned to look at the other people gathering. His normally composed, serene mien had turned ashen and shocked. "He's saying someone's dead. A woman. On the sofa." The officer from the rationing board turned back to Anton. "It's all right, old boy. It will be all right." "To b?dzie jest dobrze" James added in Polish. "Kto by? to?" > > (OOC - I suspect the translator is weak - anyone in the room who is able > to speak Polish (and who I don't know about) should email me for a > translation. As far as I know, two characters are Polish speaker ...) (OOC: I wish I did speak Polish, even if my character does. I'm going to fake the response.) From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Sat Dec 25 10:44:12 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Sat Dec 25 10:44:22 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge References: <88.1cb2429f.2efe4561@aol.com><005e01c4ea72$72fea980$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41CD830D.5090400@mindspring.com> Message-ID: <008601c4ea98$94fcf1b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> Anton, by now seated on on of the over-stuffed settees, accepted the >> brandy, shuddered, and then tossed off a good portion of it in a single >> gulp. >> >> Then he spoke, low and fast - and in Polish. "To byl okropne! Okropny! >> Gral fortepian. Szukam - i zobacze jej. I ona byl martwa! Martwy!" >> > > James looked alarmed at whatever Anton was saying. He put a hand on the > musician's shoulder. "Who is?" he said. "Who?" He turned to look at > the other people gathering. His normally composed, serene mien had turned > ashen and shocked. "He's saying someone's dead. A woman. On the sofa." > > The officer from the rationing board turned back to Anton. "It's all > right, old boy. It will be all right." > > "To bDdzie jest dobrze" James added in Polish. "Kto byE to?" > Even the non-Polish speakers could understand Anton's next words. He gave a faint shudder and then said, "Nola. Nola Diamond." From windeaglebjm at yahoo.com Sat Dec 25 11:33:30 2004 From: windeaglebjm at yahoo.com (Brenda McCartney) Date: Sat Dec 25 11:33:42 2004 Subject: [MaC] The ARP warden arrives - and leaves In-Reply-To: <01fb01c4ea26$e2fcc650$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <20041225163330.16338.qmail@web50702.mail.yahoo.com> --- Mel Mason wrote: > > >> "I'll be off then," said the warden - unless you'd like me to have > a look > >> round ... " > >> > >> "That will be all right," said Marty. "Just tell us about this > bomb." > >> > >> The warden repeated his earlier warning and then took his leave, > Marty > >> Fitzroy escorting him to the lift - as though to make sure he'd > really > >> leave. Cyril was about to re-enter the Fitzroy flat carrying a fistful of old towels as Marty hustled the warden to the door. He took several steps backward to allow them to exit. "Evening, officer," he greeted the warden as he passed, ignoring the scowl on Marty's face. > >> The lift was slowly clanking its way down ... and Marty returned. > >> > >> "Now I need a drink," he announced. "Hodges - a brandy and soda. > With > >> not > >> too much soda." > >> > >> His mood seemed to have taken yet another turn for the worse. > > > > "And bother again," Warren said. "Frightful things, unexploded > bombs. > > Have a habit of going off an hour or a week later. At the airfield, > > they've gotten into the habit of getting a sharpshooter and > > plinking at the thing from a distance... something wrong, Mister > > Fitzroy?" > > > > Fitzroy was looking apoplectic. "You're not suggesting we do that > 'ere, I > 'ope?" he growled at Warren. > > > > > _______________________________________________ > murder_at_christmas mailing list > murder_at_christmas@gamera.cc > http://gamera.cc/mailman/listinfo/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc > __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? The all-new My Yahoo! - What will yours do? http://my.yahoo.com From dorothea at textartisan.com Sat Dec 25 12:13:15 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Sat Dec 25 12:15:40 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music In-Reply-To: <41CD6CEC.9040400@textartisan.com> References: <20041225090816.45081.qmail@web60807.mail.yahoo.com> <004901c4ea70$fcab2d90$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41CD6CEC.9040400@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <41CD9FAB.6070906@textartisan.com> > "We'll never get a police matron past the UXB cordon," said Pamela. > "Tabitha, Mrs. Skeffington-Nottle, perhaps you should examine her? The > cause of death is -- obvious -- but you might learn other things. I > shall willingly assist if you wish, but this -- practice -- goes a bit > beyond my theory." Distress pinched Pamela's features, but she held both > voice and hands steady. She looked around her at the varying expressions of shock, fixing on Warren Worthington's. "We shall need aprons, I should think, and Mum will be up with my bag. Mr. Worthington, perhaps you would take me back across the hall and help me fetch things." From veazeyae at gmail.com Sat Dec 25 17:19:17 2004 From: veazeyae at gmail.com (Allen Veazey) Date: Sat Dec 25 17:19:27 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music In-Reply-To: <41CD9FAB.6070906@textartisan.com> References: <20041225090816.45081.qmail@web60807.mail.yahoo.com> <004901c4ea70$fcab2d90$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41CD6CEC.9040400@textartisan.com> <41CD9FAB.6070906@textartisan.com> Message-ID: > She looked around her at the varying expressions of shock, fixing on Warren Worthington's. "We shall need aprons, I should think, and Mum will be up with my bag. Mr. Worthington, perhaps you would take me back across the hall and help me fetch things." Warren's attention had drifted; he was frowning, looking around at various things in the room... "Ah? Yes, of course," he said to Pamela. "Er... no one touch the piano, would you? Or the gramophone, either." From dorothea at textartisan.com Sat Dec 25 18:09:22 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Sat Dec 25 18:11:28 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music In-Reply-To: References: <20041225090816.45081.qmail@web60807.mail.yahoo.com> <004901c4ea70$fcab2d90$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41CD6CEC.9040400@textartisan.com> <41CD9FAB.6070906@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <41CDF322.1040007@textartisan.com> > Warren's attention had drifted; he was frowning, looking > around at various things in the room... > > "Ah? Yes, of course," he said to Pamela. "Er... no > one touch the piano, would you? Or the gramophone, > either." "If half what I've heard is true, we may trust the Skeffington-Nottles," Pamela said, taking his arm as though he had actually proffered it to her. "I suppose poor Mr. Barowenski has broken the news," she said as they neared what had been a perfectly ordinary cocktail party. "At least we are spared that. Are you quite all right, Mr. Worthington?" From veazeyae at gmail.com Sat Dec 25 18:46:06 2004 From: veazeyae at gmail.com (Allen Veazey) Date: Sat Dec 25 18:46:08 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music In-Reply-To: <41CDF322.1040007@textartisan.com> References: <20041225090816.45081.qmail@web60807.mail.yahoo.com> <004901c4ea70$fcab2d90$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41CD6CEC.9040400@textartisan.com> <41CD9FAB.6070906@textartisan.com> <41CDF322.1040007@textartisan.com> Message-ID: > "I suppose poor Mr. Barowenski has broken the news," she said as they > neared what had been a perfectly ordinary cocktail party. "At least we > are spared that. Are you quite all right, Mr. Worthington?" > "I'm all right, thank you," Warren said, then added, "Lady Pamela," rather hurriedly; recognizing her title seemed to add to his flustered state. "My reaction was completely unexpected," he continued. "I may be aiming for the wrong career, if this is how I'm going to react at the scene of a crime." From dorothea at textartisan.com Sat Dec 25 19:33:41 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Sat Dec 25 19:35:45 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music In-Reply-To: References: <20041225090816.45081.qmail@web60807.mail.yahoo.com> <004901c4ea70$fcab2d90$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41CD6CEC.9040400@textartisan.com> <41CD9FAB.6070906@textartisan.com> <41CDF322.1040007@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <41CE06E5.7060909@textartisan.com> > "My reaction was completely unexpected," he continued. "I > may be aiming for the wrong career, if this is how I'm going > to react at the scene of a crime." "Police work isn't all murders, Mr. Worthington; for which fact, I am given to understand, no one is more grateful than the police themselves. Now, I do hope Mrs. Fitzroy is back; I shan't have leisure to hold on to her handbag any longer." > From jjkatalenic at yahoo.com Sat Dec 25 20:33:53 2004 From: jjkatalenic at yahoo.com (Jonathan Katalenic) Date: Sat Dec 25 20:33:55 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <008601c4ea98$94fcf1b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <20041226013353.8105.qmail@web20226.mail.yahoo.com> Even the non-Polish speakers could understand Anton's next words. He gave a faint shudder and then said, "Nola. Nola Diamond." "Oh, =no=," Nicola said with a low groan, sitting back against the settee. "Oh, no. Oh, Nola, what have you gotten yourself into now?" she asked nobody. She looked up upon seeing Pamela and Warren entering the room. Shakily, she stood and walked over to them. "Is it true?" she asked in an unsteady voice. "Is she really dead?" __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Jazz up your holiday email with celebrity designs. Learn more. http://celebrity.mail.yahoo.com From jvstin at mindspring.com Sat Dec 25 21:27:33 2004 From: jvstin at mindspring.com (Jvstin(Mindspring)) Date: Sat Dec 25 21:27:42 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <20041226013353.8105.qmail@web20226.mail.yahoo.com> References: <20041226013353.8105.qmail@web20226.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <41CE2195.9090702@mindspring.com> on 12/25/2004 7:33 PM Jonathan Katalenic said the following: > Even the non-Polish speakers could understand Anton's > next words. He gave a faint shudder and then said, > "Nola. Nola Diamond." > > "Oh, =no=," Nicola said with a low groan, sitting back > against the settee. "Oh, no. Oh, Nola, what have you > gotten yourself into now?" she asked nobody. She > looked up upon seeing Pamela and Warren entering the > room. Shakily, she stood and walked over to them. "Is > it true?" she asked in an unsteady voice. "Is she > really dead?" > James remained where he was with the stricken musician, but he turned his head toward the entrance,where Nicola went to greet Pamela and Warren. From dorothea at textartisan.com Sat Dec 25 21:31:51 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Sat Dec 25 21:33:48 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <20041226013353.8105.qmail@web20226.mail.yahoo.com> References: <20041226013353.8105.qmail@web20226.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <41CE2297.7030508@textartisan.com> > "Oh, =no=," Nicola said with a low groan, sitting back > against the settee. "Oh, no. Oh, Nola, what have you > gotten yourself into now?" she asked nobody. She > looked up upon seeing Pamela and Warren entering the > room. Shakily, she stood and walked over to them. "Is > it true?" she asked in an unsteady voice. "Is she > really dead?" "I'm afraid so," Pamela said in a voice that (though appropriately low-pitched and somber) reached the whole room. She dropped Warren's arm to march Nicola right back to the settee. "Now, you aren't to worry, all right? Everything is being taken care of. Here, can you do something for me? This bag -- it's Mrs. Fitzroy's. She left it here earlier. Will you take care of it until she gets back? I'd be grateful." From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Sat Dec 25 22:32:17 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Sat Dec 25 22:32:16 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music In-Reply-To: <004901c4ea70$fcab2d90$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <019101c4eafb$82a94a00$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Phillip, swirling his half-filled glass absently, stared at the body, though he was careful not to touch anything. "It looks--" His voice rasped; he cleared his throat and began again, looking slightly abashed. "It looks as though she was strangled *with* something, not bare-handed. Does anyone see anything here that might have been the, er, murder weapon?" He looked around the room as if uncertain of what he was searching for, then his gaze fell on the piano. "Piano wire, perhaps?" From margdean at erols.com Sat Dec 25 22:47:35 2004 From: margdean at erols.com (Margaret Dean) Date: Sat Dec 25 22:48:38 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music References: <019101c4eafb$82a94a00$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Message-ID: <41CE3457.F1625B8F@erols.com> Brian Schoner wrote: > > Phillip, swirling his half-filled glass absently, stared at the body, though > he was careful not to touch anything. "It looks--" His voice rasped; he > cleared his throat and began again, looking slightly abashed. "It looks as > though she was strangled *with* something, not bare-handed. Does anyone see > anything here that might have been the, er, murder weapon?" He looked around > the room as if uncertain of what he was searching for, then his gaze fell on > the piano. "Piano wire, perhaps?" "It can't have been that," Marion said almost too quickly. "He was playing ... surely he would have noticed sooner if one was missing?" --Margaret Dean From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Sat Dec 25 22:55:35 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Sat Dec 25 22:55:34 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music In-Reply-To: <41CE3457.F1625B8F@erols.com> Message-ID: <019201c4eafe$c444ea20$96f1fea9@BriansPC> >> "Piano wire, perhaps?" > > "It can't have been that," Marion said almost too quickly. > "He was playing ... surely he would have noticed sooner if > one was missing?" "I suppose...unless there were spares kept somewhere? I don't know if that's the sort of thing one keeps..." From jjkatalenic at yahoo.com Sun Dec 26 00:18:46 2004 From: jjkatalenic at yahoo.com (Jonathan Katalenic) Date: Sun Dec 26 00:18:48 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <41CE2297.7030508@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <20041226051846.23699.qmail@web20223.mail.yahoo.com> "I'm afraid so," Pamela said in a voice that (though appropriately low-pitched and somber) reached the whole room. She dropped Warren's arm to march Nicola right back to the settee. "Now, you aren't to worry, all right? Everything is being taken care of. Here, can you do something for me? This bag -- it's Mrs. Fitzroy's. She left it here earlier. Will you take care of it until she gets back? I'd be grateful." "Of course, darling, don't worry," Nicola said, taking the bag and sitting down next to Anton on the settee. "Oh, my, my, my, what a horrible, horrible thing," she said, letting out a sigh. "I know you all must think she was just a wretched girl because of how she acted tonight, but she truly wasn't. I just don't know what made her act like such a hag this evening." She cleared her throat and turned Esme's purse over in her hands. "It's hard to believe not twenty minutes ago we were all laughing and toasting and now..." __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Jazz up your holiday email with celebrity designs. Learn more. http://celebrity.mail.yahoo.com From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Sun Dec 26 05:21:59 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Sun Dec 26 05:22:05 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music References: <20041225090816.45081.qmail@web60807.mail.yahoo.com><004901c4ea70$fcab2d90$0202a8c0@Behemoth><41CD6CEC.9040400@textartisan.com> <41CD9FAB.6070906@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <005f01c4eb34$be3927a0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> She looked around her at the varying expressions of > shock, fixing on Warren Worthington's. "We shall need > aprons, I should think, and Mum will be up with my bag. > Mr. Worthington, perhaps you would take me back > across the hall and help me fetch things." > > Warren's attention had drifted; he was frowning, looking > around at various things in the room... > > "Ah? Yes, of course," he said to Pamela. "Er... no > one touch the piano, would you? Or the gramophone, > either." "Not until we have spoken to Mr Barowenski, at all events," said Oswald. "Can you ask my wife to join us, please, Lady Pamela?" And so Pamela and Warren left the room ... "If half what I've heard is true, we may trust the Skeffington-Nottles," Pamela said, taking his arm as though he had actually proffered it to her. "I suppose poor Mr. Barowenski has broken the news," she said as they neared what had been a perfectly ordinary cocktail party. "At least we are spared that. Are you quite all right, Mr. Worthington?" "I'm all right, thank you," Warren said, then added, "Lady Pamela," rather hurriedly; recognizing her title seemed to add to his flustered state. "My reaction was completely unexpected," he continued. "I may be aiming for the wrong career, if this is how I'm going to react at the scene of a crime." > "My reaction was completely unexpected," he continued. "I > may be aiming for the wrong career, if this is how I'm going > to react at the scene of a crime." "Police work isn't all murders, Mr. Worthington; for which fact, I am given to understand, no one is more grateful than the police themselves. Now, I do hope Mrs. Fitzroy is back; I shan't have leisure to hold on to her handbag any longer." At this point they entered the lounge ... From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Sun Dec 26 05:26:47 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Sun Dec 26 05:26:45 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge References: <20041226013353.8105.qmail@web20226.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <006901c4eb35$67cc68e0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> > Even the non-Polish speakers could understand Anton's > next words. He gave a faint shudder and then said, > "Nola. Nola Diamond." > > "Oh, =no=," Nicola said with a low groan, sitting back > against the settee. "Oh, no. Oh, Nola, what have you > gotten yourself into now?" she asked nobody. She > looked up upon seeing Pamela and Warren entering the > room. Shakily, she stood and walked over to them. "Is > it true?" she asked in an unsteady voice. "Is she > really dead?" > James remained where he was with the stricken musician, but he turned his head toward the entrance,where Nicola went to greet Pamela and Warren. "Her eyes were open," said Anton with a shudder. I saw the ... the stare." "I'm afraid so," Pamela said in a voice that (though appropriately low-pitched and somber) reached the whole room. She dropped Warren's arm to march Nicola right back to the settee. "Now, you aren't to worry, all right? Everything is being taken care of. Here, can you do something for me? This bag -- it's Mrs. Fitzroy's. She left it here earlier. Will you take care of it until she gets back? I'd be grateful." "Of course, darling, don't worry," Nicola said, taking the bag and sitting down next to Anton on the settee. "Oh, my, my, my, what a horrible, horrible thing," she said, letting out a sigh. "I know you all must think she was just a wretched girl because of how she acted tonight, but she truly wasn't. I just don't know what made her act like such a hag this evening." She cleared her throat and turned Esme's purse over in her hands. "It's hard to believe not twenty minutes ago we were all laughing and toasting and now..." "'ow did she die?" demanded Marty. "Drugs, was it? I reckoned she was on drugs, the little tart." From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Sun Dec 26 05:33:05 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Sun Dec 26 05:33:13 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music References: <019101c4eafb$82a94a00$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Message-ID: <007301c4eb36$48c99bb0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> > > Marion had come up next to him and looked almost as > white-faced > as he did, though this was not the first murder > scene she had > ever viewed. > > "But how could he..." she whispered, "...sit here > playing ... and > not see it, till now?" > "In the dark, you mean?" asked Tabitha, appearing in the doorway. "I should imagine it would be more difficult to see it than not. He was probably paying more attention to his music than his surroundings, anyway." She moved towards the settee, where Lady Pamela was attempting to find a pulse, and looked at Nola Diamond with the detached expression of someone who had seen far too many dead bodies in her life. "Yes," said Oswald, "that would work if she was strangled before he came here and started playing. But she wasn't. I remembered her saying something rude about Fitzroy after Barowenski had left the room." Phillip, swirling his half-filled glass absently, stared at the body, though he was careful not to touch anything. "It looks--" His voice rasped; he cleared his throat and began again, looking slightly abashed. "It looks as though she was strangled *with* something, not bare-handed. Does anyone see anything here that might have been the, er, murder weapon?" He looked around the room as if uncertain of what he was searching for, then his gaze fell on the piano. "Piano wire, perhaps?" "It can't have been that," Marion said almost too quickly. "He was playing ... surely he would have noticed sooner if one was missing?" "I suppose...unless there were spares kept somewhere? I don't know if that's the sort of thing one keeps..." "I doubt if the average home player does," said Oswald thoughtfully. "But a professional pianist ... that would be a different matter, I would think. We'll have to ask Barowenski." He frowned. "Someone needs to question him - two people for preference. And someone needs to go down and inform the wardens and the UXB team what has happened here." From hmace at elfworks.com Sun Dec 26 06:19:05 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Sun Dec 26 06:19:07 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <006901c4eb35$67cc68e0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041226013353.8105.qmail@web20226.mail.yahoo.com> <006901c4eb35$67cc68e0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41CE9E29.9040308@elfworks.com> > > James remained where he was with the stricken musician, but he turned > his head toward the entrance,where Nicola went to greet Pamela and Warren. > > "Her eyes were open," said Anton with a shudder. I saw the ... the stare." > > "I'm afraid so," Pamela said in a voice that (though appropriately > low-pitched and somber) reached the whole room. She dropped Warren's arm > to march Nicola right back to the settee. "Now, you aren't to worry, all > right? Everything is being taken care of. Here, can you do something for > me? This bag -- it's Mrs. Fitzroy's. She left it here earlier. Will you > take care of it until she gets back? I'd be grateful." > > "Of course, darling, don't worry," Nicola said, taking > the bag and sitting down next to Anton on the settee. > "Oh, my, my, my, what a horrible, horrible thing," she > said, letting out a sigh. "I know you all must think > she was just a wretched girl because of how she acted > tonight, but she truly wasn't. I just don't know what > made her act like such a hag this evening." She > cleared her throat and turned Esme's purse over in her > hands. "It's hard to believe not twenty minutes ago we > were all laughing and toasting and now..." > > "'ow did she die?" demanded Marty. "Drugs, was it? I reckoned she was > on drugs, the little tart." Marjorie just shook her head in shock. "What a terrible thing to say about the dead!" she said to Fitzroy. "You behave yourself... there's people in shock here and you ain't helping one bit." She sat on the other side on Anton and put an arm around his shoulders. "There there now..." From windeaglebjm at yahoo.com Sun Dec 26 07:36:30 2004 From: windeaglebjm at yahoo.com (Brenda McCartney) Date: Sun Dec 26 07:36:34 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <20041225023559.52194.qmail@web20226.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <20041226123630.94531.qmail@web50707.mail.yahoo.com> --- Jonathan Katalenic wrote: > Marjorie hopped off her stool and rushed to > Barowenski's side. "Goodness! What's happened?" she > asked the pianist, trying to gently get him to sit up > by grasping his shoulders. > > Nicola also hurried to Barowenski. "Oh, dear me," she > said. "Marjorie, darling, let's get him onto the > chaise." She hooked her arm under his other shoulder > and worked with Marjorie to get him onto the nearby > chaise lounge. "Mr. Barowenski, sir, you must stop > that," Nicola said. With her free hand, she attempted > to hand him what remained of her gin and tonic. "Have > a sip of this and try to get a hold of yourself! Now > tell us what's happened!" Cyril arrived back at the bar at the ladies assisting the pianist. Since even more people were headed in his direction, Cyril stepped back out of the way and set the towels down on the end of the bar. He listened to the group while scanning the room for his wife. > > > > __________________________________ > Do you Yahoo!? > The all-new My Yahoo! - What will yours do? > http://my.yahoo.com > > _______________________________________________ > murder_at_christmas mailing list > murder_at_christmas@gamera.cc > http://gamera.cc/mailman/listinfo/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc > __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around http://mail.yahoo.com From windeaglebjm at yahoo.com Sun Dec 26 07:40:09 2004 From: windeaglebjm at yahoo.com (Brenda McCartney) Date: Sun Dec 26 07:40:13 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <41CE9E29.9040308@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <20041226124009.76996.qmail@web50701.mail.yahoo.com> --- Heather Mace wrote: > > > > James remained where he was with the stricken musician, but he > turned > > his head toward the entrance,where Nicola went to greet Pamela and > Warren. > > > > "Her eyes were open," said Anton with a shudder. I saw the ... the > stare." > > > > "I'm afraid so," Pamela said in a voice that (though appropriately > > low-pitched and somber) reached the whole room. She dropped > Warren's arm > > to march Nicola right back to the settee. "Now, you aren't to > worry, all > > right? Everything is being taken care of. Here, can you do > something for > > me? This bag -- it's Mrs. Fitzroy's. She left it here earlier. Will > you > > take care of it until she gets back? I'd be grateful." > > > > "Of course, darling, don't worry," Nicola said, taking > > the bag and sitting down next to Anton on the settee. > > "Oh, my, my, my, what a horrible, horrible thing," she > > said, letting out a sigh. "I know you all must think > > she was just a wretched girl because of how she acted > > tonight, but she truly wasn't. I just don't know what > > made her act like such a hag this evening." She > > cleared her throat and turned Esme's purse over in her > > hands. "It's hard to believe not twenty minutes ago we > > were all laughing and toasting and now..." > > > > "'ow did she die?" demanded Marty. "Drugs, was it? I reckoned she > was > > on drugs, the little tart." > > Marjorie just shook her head in shock. "What a terrible > thing to say about the dead!" she said to Fitzroy. "You > behave yourself... there's people in shock here and you > ain't helping one bit." She sat on the other side on > Anton and put an arm around his shoulders. "There there > now..." Cyril scowled at Fitzroy, but unfortunately, was not surprised by his comment. > > > _______________________________________________ > murder_at_christmas mailing list > murder_at_christmas@gamera.cc > http://gamera.cc/mailman/listinfo/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc > __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Send holiday email and support a worthy cause. Do good. http://celebrity.mail.yahoo.com From rmpruehs at cac.net Sun Dec 26 07:38:13 2004 From: rmpruehs at cac.net (Ree Moorhead Pruehs) Date: Sun Dec 26 07:45:56 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <006901c4eb35$67cc68e0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041226013353.8105.qmail@web20226.mail.yahoo.com> <006901c4eb35$67cc68e0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <6.2.0.14.0.20041226073609.0422d868@mail.cac.net> At 05:26 AM 12/26/2004, you wrote: >>Even the non-Polish speakers could understand Anton's >>next words. He gave a faint shudder and then said, >>"Nola. Nola Diamond." >> >>"Oh, =no=," Nicola said with a low groan, sitting back >>against the settee. "Oh, no. Oh, Nola, what have you >>gotten yourself into now?" she asked nobody. She >>looked up upon seeing Pamela and Warren entering the >>room. Shakily, she stood and walked over to them. "Is >>it true?" she asked in an unsteady voice. "Is she >>really dead?" > >James remained where he was with the stricken musician, but he turned >his head toward the entrance,where Nicola went to greet Pamela and Warren. > >"Her eyes were open," said Anton with a shudder. I saw the ... the stare." > >"I'm afraid so," Pamela said in a voice that (though appropriately >low-pitched and somber) reached the whole room. She dropped Warren's arm >to march Nicola right back to the settee. "Now, you aren't to worry, all >right? Everything is being taken care of. Here, can you do something for >me? This bag -- it's Mrs. Fitzroy's. She left it here earlier. Will you >take care of it until she gets back? I'd be grateful." > >"Of course, darling, don't worry," Nicola said, taking >the bag and sitting down next to Anton on the settee. >"Oh, my, my, my, what a horrible, horrible thing," she >said, letting out a sigh. "I know you all must think >she was just a wretched girl because of how she acted >tonight, but she truly wasn't. I just don't know what >made her act like such a hag this evening." She >cleared her throat and turned Esme's purse over in her >hands. "It's hard to believe not twenty minutes ago we >were all laughing and toasting and now..." > >"'ow did she die?" demanded Marty. "Drugs, was it? I reckoned she was on >drugs, the little tart." Vangie, who had been standing to one side of the room since coming back upstairs, motly unnoticed, said sharply "Don't speak ill of the dead." From jvstin at mindspring.com Sun Dec 26 09:05:09 2004 From: jvstin at mindspring.com (Jvstin(Mindspring)) Date: Sun Dec 26 09:05:18 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <20041226124009.76996.qmail@web50701.mail.yahoo.com> References: <20041226124009.76996.qmail@web50701.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <41CEC515.3090108@mindspring.com> on 12/26/2004 6:40 AM Brenda McCartney said the following: > --- Heather Mace wrote: > > >>>James remained where he was with the stricken musician, but he >> >>turned >> >>>his head toward the entrance,where Nicola went to greet Pamela and >> >>Warren. >> >>>"Her eyes were open," said Anton with a shudder. I saw the ... the >> >>stare." >> >>>"I'm afraid so," Pamela said in a voice that (though appropriately >>>low-pitched and somber) reached the whole room. She dropped >> >>Warren's arm >> >>>to march Nicola right back to the settee. "Now, you aren't to >> >>worry, all >> >>>right? Everything is being taken care of. Here, can you do >> >>something for >> >>>me? This bag -- it's Mrs. Fitzroy's. She left it here earlier. Will >> >>you >> >>>take care of it until she gets back? I'd be grateful." >>> >>>"Of course, darling, don't worry," Nicola said, taking >>>the bag and sitting down next to Anton on the settee. >>>"Oh, my, my, my, what a horrible, horrible thing," she >>>said, letting out a sigh. "I know you all must think >>>she was just a wretched girl because of how she acted >>>tonight, but she truly wasn't. I just don't know what >>>made her act like such a hag this evening." She >>>cleared her throat and turned Esme's purse over in her >>>hands. "It's hard to believe not twenty minutes ago we >>>were all laughing and toasting and now..." >>> >>>"'ow did she die?" demanded Marty. "Drugs, was it? I reckoned she >> >>was >> >>>on drugs, the little tart." >> >>Marjorie just shook her head in shock. "What a terrible >>thing to say about the dead!" she said to Fitzroy. "You >>behave yourself... there's people in shock here and you >>ain't helping one bit." She sat on the other side on >>Anton and put an arm around his shoulders. "There there >>now..." > > > Cyril scowled at Fitzroy, but unfortunately, was not surprised by his > comment. "Don't mind him old boy." James said to Anton, not even deigning to give Fitzroy a look. James sighed, smashed a fist into his palm and mused aloud. "Everyone in the building was invited to the party, weren't they?" he said. "Every last one, social hermit or not." "It's one of us." James deduced, unhappily. From jjkatalenic at yahoo.com Sun Dec 26 09:25:49 2004 From: jjkatalenic at yahoo.com (Jonathan Katalenic) Date: Sun Dec 26 09:25:52 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <41CEC515.3090108@mindspring.com> Message-ID: <20041226142549.16389.qmail@web20224.mail.yahoo.com> >>>"'ow did she die?" demanded Marty. "Drugs, was it? I reckoned she >> >>was >> >>>on drugs, the little tart." >> >>Marjorie just shook her head in shock. "What a terrible >>thing to say about the dead!" she said to Fitzroy. "You >>behave yourself... there's people in shock here and you >>ain't helping one bit." She sat on the other side on >>Anton and put an arm around his shoulders. "There there >>now..." > > > Cyril scowled at Fitzroy, but unfortunately, was not surprised by his > comment. For her part, Nicola shot Marty Fitzroy a glare that could have frozen the South Pacific and was about to fling an acid-tinged retort at the loathsome man when James Drake interceded. > "Don't mind him old boy." James said to Anton, not >even deigning to give Fitzroy a look. James sighed, >smashed a fist into his palm and mused >aloud. "Everyone in the building was invited to the >party, weren't they?" he said. "Every last one, >social hermit or not." > >"It's one of us." James deduced, unhappily. "No! No, it can't be!" Nicola protested. "There had to..." her voice trailed off. "Oh... you're right. Nobody could get into Mortmain Mansions and we were all here at the party." She looked around the room at the few stragglers that had been either too uneasy or too respectful to traipse through and gawk at Nola's body. "But... who?" She shivered in spite of her warm jacket. __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Send holiday email and support a worthy cause. Do good. http://celebrity.mail.yahoo.com From dorothea at textartisan.com Sun Dec 26 09:32:09 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Sun Dec 26 09:34:08 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <41CEC515.3090108@mindspring.com> References: <20041226124009.76996.qmail@web50701.mail.yahoo.com> <41CEC515.3090108@mindspring.com> Message-ID: <41CECB69.2030106@textartisan.com> > "Don't mind him old boy." James said to Anton, not even deigning to > give Fitzroy a look. James sighed, smashed a fist into his palm and > mused aloud. "Everyone in the building was invited to the party, > weren't they?" he said. "Every last one, social hermit or not." > > "It's one of us." James deduced, unhappily. > "No! No, it can't be!" Nicola protested. "There had > to..." her voice trailed off. "Oh... you're right. > Nobody could get into Mortmain Mansions and we were > all here at the party." She looked around the room at > the few stragglers that had been either too uneasy or > too respectful to traipse through and gawk at Nola's > body. "But... who?" She shivered in spite of her warm jacket. Pamela's lips thinned. She had come to the same conclusion, but need Mr. Drake frighten everyone with it? No point suggesting that perhaps someone *had* broken in, given that all the flats were empty tonight; that would not precisely reassure. The thing to do was to remain calm and matter-of-fact. Pamela patted Nicola's hand one more time and turned toward Lucinda. "Mrs. Skeffington-Nottle? Your husband was asking for you; perhaps you would come with me? Oh, and Mr. Hodges, we could do with whatever aprons -- or table-linen, even -- you could find for us. Anything at all; it needn't be new or even clean." Properly she ought to have asked Mr. Fitzroy, as the flat they were in was his, but hundreds of years of breeding firmly informed her that she simply could not speak to that common, vulgar, *nasty* little man. From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Sun Dec 26 09:59:51 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Sun Dec 26 09:59:44 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music In-Reply-To: <007301c4eb36$48c99bb0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <019501c4eb5b$8ce33bb0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> > He frowned. "Someone needs to question him - two people for > preference. And someone needs to go down and inform the wardens > and the UXB team what has happened here." "I'll leave the questioning to those who know what they're doing," Philip said, "but I can go downstairs and inform the authorities, assuming I can find them." With a last look at the crime scene, he went out and began heading downstairs. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Sun Dec 26 10:51:43 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Sun Dec 26 10:50:50 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music References: <019501c4eb5b$8ce33bb0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Message-ID: <009d01c4eb62$cc4ae800$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> He frowned. "Someone needs to question him - two people for >> preference. And someone needs to go down and inform the wardens >> and the UXB team what has happened here." > > "I'll leave the questioning to those who know what they're doing," Philip > said, "but I can go downstairs and inform the authorities, assuming I can > find them." With a last look at the crime scene, he went out and began > heading downstairs. > "Don't go alone!" said Oswald. "Take one of the people from the Fitzroys' with you. No-one should be alone - for their own protection." From windeaglebjm at yahoo.com Sun Dec 26 11:03:05 2004 From: windeaglebjm at yahoo.com (Brenda McCartney) Date: Sun Dec 26 11:03:10 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <41CECB69.2030106@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <20041226160305.58642.qmail@web50703.mail.yahoo.com> --- Dorothea Salo wrote: > > "Don't mind him old boy." James said to Anton, not even deigning > to > > give Fitzroy a look. James sighed, smashed a fist into his palm > and > > mused aloud. "Everyone in the building was invited to the party, > > weren't they?" he said. "Every last one, social hermit or not." > > > > "It's one of us." James deduced, unhappily. > > > "No! No, it can't be!" Nicola protested. "There had > > to..." her voice trailed off. "Oh... you're right. > > Nobody could get into Mortmain Mansions and we were > > all here at the party." She looked around the room at > > the few stragglers that had been either too uneasy or > > too respectful to traipse through and gawk at Nola's > > body. "But... who?" She shivered in spite of her warm jacket. > > Pamela's lips thinned. She had come to the same conclusion, but need > > Mr. Drake frighten everyone with it? No point suggesting that perhaps > > someone *had* broken in, given that all the flats were empty tonight; > > that would not precisely reassure. > > The thing to do was to remain calm and matter-of-fact. Pamela patted > > Nicola's hand one more time and turned toward Lucinda. "Mrs. > Skeffington-Nottle? Your husband was asking for you; perhaps you > would > come with me? Oh, and Mr. Hodges, we could do with whatever aprons -- > or > table-linen, even -- you could find for us. Anything at all; it > needn't > be new or even clean." Properly she ought to have asked Mr. Fitzroy, > as > the flat they were in was his, but hundreds of years of breeding > firmly > informed her that she simply could not speak to that common, vulgar, > *nasty* little man. Cyril was about to offer his assistance since he already had a handful of rags, but then he remembered something that made chills shoot up his spine. "Hodges," he said quietly as he leaned toward the bartender, "you can use these to help Miss Douglas. There's something I need to look into." He pushed the rag pile across the bar, then quickly made his way around the edge of the crowd and back down the stairs into the hallway between the penthouses. In the hallway, Cyril regarded Barowenski's front door from a distance at first, then more closely. He checked the carpet, the door trim and particularly the door knob for any signs of blood, careful not to touch anything. With all the traffic going through the Fitzroy's flat, this front door might actually have been the less traveled one for someone looking for an escape route. __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! Mail - 250MB free storage. Do more. Manage less. http://info.mail.yahoo.com/mail_250 From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Sun Dec 26 12:06:38 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Sun Dec 26 12:06:48 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music In-Reply-To: <009d01c4eb62$cc4ae800$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <019601c4eb6d$46569ae0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> > > "I'll leave the questioning to those who know what they're doing," > > Philip said, "but I can go downstairs and inform the authorities, > > assuming I can find them." With a last look at the crime scene, he > > went out and began heading downstairs. > > "Don't go alone!" said Oswald. "Take one of the people from > the Fitzroys' with you. No-one should be alone - for their own > protection." Philip paused; this was apparently something that had not occurred to him. "Good idea," he said at last, and changed his course for the now-somber party lounge. From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Sun Dec 26 12:12:50 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Sun Dec 26 12:12:47 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <20041226160305.58642.qmail@web50703.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <019701c4eb6e$23eb2740$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Philip entered the lounge through the upstairs hallway just as Cyril was heading downstairs. He moved quietly to the bar, depositing his half-filled glass on the counter, before turning to those who were still present. "I'm going downstairs to inform the authorities," he said. "If anyone would like to come along, they'd be welcome." From Mrfury28 at aol.com Sun Dec 26 12:59:27 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Sun Dec 26 12:59:37 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge Message-ID: <13e.952637e.2f0055ff@aol.com> "Oh, and Mr. Hodges, we could do with whatever aprons -- or table-linen, even -- you could find for us. Anything at all; it needn't be new or even clean." Properly she ought to have asked Mr. Fitzroy, as the flat they were in was his, but hundreds of years of breeding firmly informed her that she simply could not speak to that common, vulgar, *nasty* little man. "I'll see what I can find Lady Pamela." Hodges replied. "I'm leaving the brandy on the table." Hodges left to look in the linen closet for some appropriate attire. "Someone ought to ring the police as well." -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041226/64fa5575/attachment-0001.htm From margdean at erols.com Sun Dec 26 13:43:30 2004 From: margdean at erols.com (Margaret Dean) Date: Sun Dec 26 13:44:27 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music References: <019101c4eafb$82a94a00$96f1fea9@BriansPC> <007301c4eb36$48c99bb0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41CF0652.87FBCE8C@erols.com> Mel Mason wrote: > > > > > Marion had come up next to him and looked almost as > > white-faced > > as he did, though this was not the first murder > > scene she had > > ever viewed. > > > > "But how could he..." she whispered, "...sit here > > playing ... and not see it, till now?" > > > > "In the dark, you mean?" asked Tabitha, appearing in > the doorway. "I should imagine it would be more > difficult to see it than not. He was probably paying > more attention to his music than his surroundings, > anyway." She moved towards the settee, where Lady > Pamela was attempting to find a pulse, and looked at > Nola Diamond with the detached expression of someone > who had seen far too many dead bodies in her life. > > "Yes," said Oswald, "that would work if she was strangled before he came > here and started playing. But she wasn't. I remembered her saying > something rude about Fitzroy after Barowenski had left the room." > > Phillip, swirling his half-filled glass absently, stared at the body, > though he was careful not to touch anything. "It looks--" His voice > rasped; he cleared his throat and began again, looking slightly abashed. > "It looks as though she was strangled *with* something, not bare-handed. > Does anyone see anything here that might have been the, er, murder > weapon?" He looked around the room as if uncertain of what he was > searching for, then his gaze fell on the piano. "Piano wire, perhaps?" > > "It can't have been that," Marion said almost too quickly. "He > was playing ... surely he would have noticed sooner if one was > missing?" > > "I suppose...unless there were spares kept somewhere? I don't know if > that's the sort of thing one keeps..." > > "I doubt if the average home player does," said Oswald thoughtfully. > "But a professional pianist ... that would be a different matter, I > would think. We'll have to ask Barowenski." > > He frowned. "Someone needs to question him - two people for preference. > And someone needs to go down and inform the wardens and the UXB team what > has happened here." "I'll help with the questioning," Marion volunteered. "I have experience with interviewing people, after all." Then she added, grim-faced, "And we might want to check people's hands. If you used a wire like that to strangle someone, it would cut into your hands too -- unless you were wearing heavy gloves." --Margaret Dean From rmpruehs at cac.net Sun Dec 26 15:24:22 2004 From: rmpruehs at cac.net (Ree Moorhead Pruehs) Date: Sun Dec 26 15:24:39 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <41CECB69.2030106@textartisan.com> References: <20041226124009.76996.qmail@web50701.mail.yahoo.com> <41CEC515.3090108@mindspring.com> <41CECB69.2030106@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <6.2.0.14.0.20041226152257.04123990@mail.cac.net> At 09:32 AM 12/26/2004, you wrote: >>"Don't mind him old boy." James said to Anton, not even deigning to give >>Fitzroy a look. James sighed, smashed a fist into his palm and mused >>aloud. "Everyone in the building was invited to the party, weren't >>they?" he said. "Every last one, social hermit or not." >>"It's one of us." James deduced, unhappily. > >>"No! No, it can't be!" Nicola protested. "There had >>to..." her voice trailed off. "Oh... you're right. >>Nobody could get into Mortmain Mansions and we were >>all here at the party." She looked around the room at >>the few stragglers that had been either too uneasy or >>too respectful to traipse through and gawk at Nola's >>body. "But... who?" She shivered in spite of her warm jacket. > > Pamela's lips thinned. She had come to the same conclusion, but > need Mr. Drake frighten everyone with it? No point suggesting that > perhaps someone *had* broken in, given that all the flats were empty > tonight; that would not precisely reassure. > > The thing to do was to remain calm and matter-of-fact. Pamela > patted Nicola's hand one more time and turned toward Lucinda. "Mrs. > Skeffington-Nottle? Your husband was asking for you; perhaps you would > come with me? Oh, and Mr. Hodges, we could do with whatever aprons -- or > table-linen, even -- you could find for us. Anything at all; it needn't > be new or even clean." Properly she ought to have asked Mr. Fitzroy, as > the flat they were in was his, but hundreds of years of breeding firmly > informed her that she simply could not speak to that common, vulgar, > *nasty* little man. Vangie cleared her throat. "I think perhaps our hostess should be told what is happening." Diffidently she added, "...and she was asking for her purse earlier, I can take care of that at the same time." From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Sun Dec 26 15:34:59 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Sun Dec 26 15:34:04 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge References: <019701c4eb6e$23eb2740$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Message-ID: <00d401c4eb8a$5ec80ec0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> "She can't have killed herself!" said Florence Beaman. "Not in the time she was alone. But ... do you think ... do you think she ... killed herself?" > "Don't mind him old boy." James said to Anton, not even deigning to > give Fitzroy a look. James sighed, smashed a fist into his palm and > mused aloud. "Everyone in the building was invited to the party, > weren't they?" he said. "Every last one, social hermit or not." > > "It's one of us." James deduced, unhappily. > "No! No, it can't be!" Nicola protested. "There had > to..." her voice trailed off. "Oh... you're right. > Nobody could get into Mortmain Mansions and we were > all here at the party." She looked around the room at > the few stragglers that had been either too uneasy or > too respectful to traipse through and gawk at Nola's > body. "But... who?" She shivered in spite of her warm jacket. Pamela's lips thinned. She had come to the same conclusion, but need Mr. Drake frighten everyone with it? No point suggesting that perhaps someone *had* broken in, given that all the flats were empty tonight; that would not precisely reassure. The thing to do was to remain calm and matter-of-fact. Pamela patted Nicola's hand one more time and turned toward Lucinda. "Mrs. Skeffington-Nottle? Your husband was asking for you; perhaps you would come with me?" Certainly," said Lucinda. "Lady Pamela - Officer Worthington - do you have any idea how she died? Was it an accident, suicide or ... " (OOC - cos no-one in the lounge actually knows she was murdered, I think. It would be nice if someone told them!) "Oh, and Mr. Hodges, we could do with whatever aprons -- or table-linen, even -- you could find for us. Anything at all; it needn't be new or even clean." Properly she ought to have asked Mr. Fitzroy, as the flat they were in was his, but hundreds of years of breeding firmly informed her that she simply could not speak to that common, vulgar, *nasty* little man. "I'll see what I can find Lady Pamela." Hodges replied. "I'm leaving the brandy on the table." Hodges left to look in the linen closet for some appropriate attire. "Someone ought to ring the police as well." This took him downstairs out of the lounge - in time to see Cyril examining the door of the flat opposite. Esme Fotzroy, doubtless alarmed by all the comings and goes, came out of her bedroom looking more than a little anxious. "Mr Hodges - what is going on?" she asked. > Philip entered the lounge through the upstairs hallway just as Cyril was > heading downstairs. He moved quietly to the bar, depositing his > half-filled > glass on the counter, before turning to those who were still present. "I'm > going downstairs to inform the authorities," he said. "If anyone would > like > to come along, they'd be welcome." > From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Sun Dec 26 15:46:50 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Sun Dec 26 15:45:55 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge References: <20041226124009.76996.qmail@web50701.mail.yahoo.com><41CEC515.3090108@mindspring.com><41CECB69.2030106@textartisan.com> <6.2.0.14.0.20041226152257.04123990@mail.cac.net> Message-ID: <00e601c4eb8c$0632ae30$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >>>"Don't mind him old boy." James said to Anton, not even deigning to give >>>Fitzroy a look. James sighed, smashed a fist into his palm and mused >>>aloud. "Everyone in the building was invited to the party, weren't >>>they?" he said. "Every last one, social hermit or not." >>>"It's one of us." James deduced, unhappily. >> >>>"No! No, it can't be!" Nicola protested. "There had >>>to..." her voice trailed off. "Oh... you're right. >>>Nobody could get into Mortmain Mansions and we were >>>all here at the party." She looked around the room at >>>the few stragglers that had been either too uneasy or >>>too respectful to traipse through and gawk at Nola's >>>body. "But... who?" She shivered in spite of her warm jacket. >> >> Pamela's lips thinned. She had come to the same conclusion, but >> need Mr. Drake frighten everyone with it? No point suggesting that >> perhaps someone *had* broken in, given that all the flats were empty >> tonight; that would not precisely reassure. >> >> The thing to do was to remain calm and matter-of-fact. Pamela >> patted Nicola's hand one more time and turned toward Lucinda. "Mrs. >> Skeffington-Nottle? Your husband was asking for you; perhaps you would >> come with me? Oh, and Mr. Hodges, we could do with whatever aprons -- or >> table-linen, even -- you could find for us. Anything at all; it needn't >> be new or even clean." Properly she ought to have asked Mr. Fitzroy, as >> the flat they were in was his, but hundreds of years of breeding firmly >> informed her that she simply could not speak to that common, vulgar, >> *nasty* little man. > > Vangie cleared her throat. "I think perhaps our hostess should be told > what is happening." Diffidently she added, "...and she was asking for her > purse earlier, I can take care of that at the same time." (OOC - if you want to follow Hodges downstairs, you'll hear and see Esme) From dorothea at textartisan.com Sun Dec 26 15:44:21 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Sun Dec 26 15:46:18 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <00d401c4eb8a$5ec80ec0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <019701c4eb6e$23eb2740$96f1fea9@BriansPC> <00d401c4eb8a$5ec80ec0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41CF22A5.1010301@textartisan.com> > Certainly," said Lucinda. "Lady Pamela - Officer Worthington - do you > have any idea how she died? Was it an accident, suicide or ... " Pamela took a deep breath. "I fear it was indeed foul play," she admitted. "Strangulation. The less said about the details, the better, I think." > (OOC - cos no-one in the lounge actually knows she was murdered, I > think. It would be nice if someone told them!) (OOC - Ick. I think we were all hoping someone else would! I know Pamela was...) From rmpruehs at cac.net Sun Dec 26 16:01:58 2004 From: rmpruehs at cac.net (Ree Moorhead Pruehs) Date: Sun Dec 26 16:04:34 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <00e601c4eb8c$0632ae30$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041226124009.76996.qmail@web50701.mail.yahoo.com> <41CEC515.3090108@mindspring.com> <41CECB69.2030106@textartisan.com> <6.2.0.14.0.20041226152257.04123990@mail.cac.net> <00e601c4eb8c$0632ae30$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <6.2.0.14.0.20041226160109.04122d80@mail.cac.net> At 03:46 PM 12/26/2004, you wrote: >>>>"Don't mind him old boy." James said to Anton, not even deigning to >>>>give Fitzroy a look. James sighed, smashed a fist into his palm and >>>>mused aloud. "Everyone in the building was invited to the party, >>>>weren't they?" he said. "Every last one, social hermit or not." >>>>"It's one of us." James deduced, unhappily. >>> >>>>"No! No, it can't be!" Nicola protested. "There had >>>>to..." her voice trailed off. "Oh... you're right. >>>>Nobody could get into Mortmain Mansions and we were >>>>all here at the party." She looked around the room at >>>>the few stragglers that had been either too uneasy or >>>>too respectful to traipse through and gawk at Nola's >>>>body. "But... who?" She shivered in spite of her warm jacket. >>> >>> Pamela's lips thinned. She had come to the same conclusion, but >>> need Mr. Drake frighten everyone with it? No point suggesting that >>> perhaps someone *had* broken in, given that all the flats were empty >>> tonight; that would not precisely reassure. >>> >>> The thing to do was to remain calm and matter-of-fact. Pamela >>> patted Nicola's hand one more time and turned toward Lucinda. "Mrs. >>> Skeffington-Nottle? Your husband was asking for you; perhaps you would >>> come with me? Oh, and Mr. Hodges, we could do with whatever aprons -- >>> or table-linen, even -- you could find for us. Anything at all; it >>> needn't be new or even clean." Properly she ought to have asked Mr. >>> Fitzroy, as the flat they were in was his, but hundreds of years of >>> breeding firmly informed her that she simply could not speak to that >>> common, vulgar, *nasty* little man. >> >>Vangie cleared her throat. "I think perhaps our hostess should be told >>what is happening." Diffidently she added, "...and she was asking for her >>purse earlier, I can take care of that at the same time." > >(OOC - if you want to follow Hodges downstairs, you'll hear and see Esme) [ooc: Vangie will do just that, but if she takes the purse she can return it to Esme.] From hmace at elfworks.com Sun Dec 26 16:13:22 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Sun Dec 26 16:13:23 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <6.2.0.14.0.20041226160109.04122d80@mail.cac.net> References: <20041226124009.76996.qmail@web50701.mail.yahoo.com> <41CEC515.3090108@mindspring.com> <41CECB69.2030106@textartisan.com> <6.2.0.14.0.20041226152257.04123990@mail.cac.net> <00e601c4eb8c$0632ae30$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <6.2.0.14.0.20041226160109.04122d80@mail.cac.net> Message-ID: <41CF2972.4010709@elfworks.com> >>>> The thing to do was to remain calm and matter-of-fact. >>>> Pamela patted Nicola's hand one more time and turned toward Lucinda. >>>> "Mrs. Skeffington-Nottle? Your husband was asking for you; perhaps >>>> you would come with me? Oh, and Mr. Hodges, we could do with >>>> whatever aprons -- or table-linen, even -- you could find for us. >>>> Anything at all; it needn't be new or even clean." Properly she >>>> ought to have asked Mr. Fitzroy, as the flat they were in was his, >>>> but hundreds of years of breeding firmly informed her that she >>>> simply could not speak to that common, vulgar, *nasty* little man. >>> >>> >>> Vangie cleared her throat. "I think perhaps our hostess should be >>> told what is happening." Diffidently she added, "...and she was >>> asking for her purse earlier, I can take care of that at the same time." >> >> >> (OOC - if you want to follow Hodges downstairs, you'll hear and see Esme) > > > [ooc: Vangie will do just that, but if she takes the purse she can > return it to Esme.] "What's everyone talking about like one of us killed her?" Marjorie demanded. "What's going on? What happened to Miss Diamond?!" she asked the room. From veazeyae at gmail.com Sun Dec 26 17:31:32 2004 From: veazeyae at gmail.com (Allen Veazey) Date: Sun Dec 26 17:31:34 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <41CF2972.4010709@elfworks.com> References: <20041226124009.76996.qmail@web50701.mail.yahoo.com> <41CEC515.3090108@mindspring.com> <41CECB69.2030106@textartisan.com> <6.2.0.14.0.20041226152257.04123990@mail.cac.net> <00e601c4eb8c$0632ae30$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <6.2.0.14.0.20041226160109.04122d80@mail.cac.net> <41CF2972.4010709@elfworks.com> Message-ID: > "What's everyone talking about like one of us killed her?" Marjorie > demanded. "What's going on? What happened to Miss Diamond?!" she > asked the room. > "She's been murdered," I'm afraid," Warren spoke up, his voice a little shaky. "I didn't get a close-up look, but it looked as if she was strangled." From kcunningham40 at comcast.net Sun Dec 26 17:42:21 2004 From: kcunningham40 at comcast.net (Katie Fulton) Date: Sun Dec 26 17:40:35 2004 Subject: [MaC] Richard Returns Message-ID: <000f01c4eb9c$2a076610$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> As the comforting and news spun around the room, leaving tears and shock in its wake, the door opened, and Richard stepped in. There was white gause around his hand, and a spot of blood on his palm. He started a cheery greeting, then stopped. "Eh-- Something's happened?" From jvstin at mindspring.com Sun Dec 26 18:03:31 2004 From: jvstin at mindspring.com (Jvstin(Mindspring)) Date: Sun Dec 26 18:03:40 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: References: <20041226124009.76996.qmail@web50701.mail.yahoo.com> <41CEC515.3090108@mindspring.com> <41CECB69.2030106@textartisan.com> <6.2.0.14.0.20041226152257.04123990@mail.cac.net> <00e601c4eb8c$0632ae30$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <6.2.0.14.0.20041226160109.04122d80@mail.cac.net> <41CF2972.4010709@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <41CF4343.9020406@mindspring.com> on 12/26/2004 4:31 PM Allen Veazey said the following: >>"What's everyone talking about like one of us killed her?" Marjorie >>demanded. "What's going on? What happened to Miss Diamond?!" she >>asked the room. >> > > > "She's been murdered," I'm afraid," Warren spoke up, his voice > a little shaky. "I didn't get a close-up look, but it looked as if > she was strangled." > As the comforting and news spun around the room, leaving tears and shock in its wake, the door opened, and Richard stepped in. There was white gause around his hand, and a spot of blood on his palm. He started a cheery greeting, then stopped. "Eh-- Something's happened?" "Anton found the body of Miss Diamond." James said, turning to look at Marjorie. "By all accounts, it wasn't an accident or suicide, but a murder." He tried not to wince at the word, he had jumped to the conclusion moments before the party that had returned announced it. James hated being right sometimes. From jadethe2nd at yahoo.com Sun Dec 26 18:15:25 2004 From: jadethe2nd at yahoo.com (Jade) Date: Sun Dec 26 18:15:28 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music In-Reply-To: <41CF0652.87FBCE8C@erols.com> Message-ID: <20041226231525.17284.qmail@web60809.mail.yahoo.com> --- Margaret Dean wrote: > Mel Mason wrote: > > > > > > > > Marion had come up next to him and looked almost > as > > > white-faced > > > as he did, though this was not the first murder > > > scene she had > > > ever viewed. > > > > > > "But how could he..." she whispered, "...sit > here > > > playing ... and not see it, till now?" > > > > > > > "In the dark, you mean?" asked Tabitha, appearing > in > > the doorway. "I should imagine it would be more > > difficult to see it than not. He was probably > paying > > more attention to his music than his surroundings, > > anyway." She moved towards the settee, where Lady > > Pamela was attempting to find a pulse, and looked > at > > Nola Diamond with the detached expression of > someone > > who had seen far too many dead bodies in her life. > > > > "Yes," said Oswald, "that would work if she was > strangled before he came > > here and started playing. But she wasn't. I > remembered her saying > > something rude about Fitzroy after Barowenski had > left the room." > > > > Phillip, swirling his half-filled glass absently, > stared at the body, > > though he was careful not to touch anything. "It > looks--" His voice > > rasped; he cleared his throat and began again, > looking slightly abashed. > > "It looks as though she was strangled *with* > something, not bare-handed. > > Does anyone see anything here that might have been > the, er, murder > > weapon?" He looked around the room as if uncertain > of what he was > > searching for, then his gaze fell on the piano. > "Piano wire, perhaps?" > > > > "It can't have been that," Marion said almost too > quickly. "He > > was playing ... surely he would have noticed > sooner if one was > > missing?" > > > > "I suppose...unless there were spares kept > somewhere? I don't know if > > that's the sort of thing one keeps..." > > > > "I doubt if the average home player does," said > Oswald thoughtfully. > > "But a professional pianist ... that would be a > different matter, I > > would think. We'll have to ask Barowenski." > > > > He frowned. "Someone needs to question him - two > people for preference. > > And someone needs to go down and inform the > wardens and the UXB team what > > has happened here." > > "I'll help with the questioning," Marion > volunteered. "I have > experience with interviewing people, after all." > > Then she added, grim-faced, "And we might want to > check people's > hands. If you used a wire like that to strangle > someone, it > would cut into your hands too -- unless you were > wearing heavy > gloves." > "And somebody should make sure that *nobody* leaves the building," said Tabitha, now sweeping the hair off Nola's neck to get a better look. She turned to face the others. "Even if it wasn't one of us -- which is extremely unlikely, I'm afraid -- we can't risk letting anyone get away who might have seen something." __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! Mail - Easier than ever with enhanced search. Learn more. http://info.mail.yahoo.com/mail_250 From nowsounds at comcast.net Sun Dec 26 18:31:04 2004 From: nowsounds at comcast.net (Nowsounds) Date: Sun Dec 26 18:31:13 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge References: <20041226124009.76996.qmail@web50701.mail.yahoo.com> <41CEC515.3090108@mindspring.com><41CECB69.2030106@textartisan.com> <6.2.0.14.0.20041226152257.04123990@mail.cac.net> <00e601c4eb8c$0632ae30$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <6.2.0.14.0.20041226160109.04122d80@mail.cac.net> <41CF2972.4010709@elfworks.com> <41CF4343.9020406@mindspring.com> Message-ID: <020901c4eba2$f7dcf9a0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> >> > As the comforting and news spun around the room, leaving tears and shock > in > its wake, the door opened, and Richard stepped in. There was white gause > around his hand, and a spot of blood on his palm. He started a cheery > greeting, then stopped. > > "Eh-- Something's happened?" > > "Anton found the body of Miss Diamond." James said, turning to look at > Marjorie. "By all accounts, it wasn't an accident or suicide, but a > murder." He tried not to wince at the word, he had jumped to the > conclusion moments before the party that had returned announced it. > > James hated being right sometimes. Only moments after Lord Richard's return, Arabella came in with Pamela's kit bag. She was slightly short of breath as she went to her daughter. "Here you are, dear. Is it really...?" Her voice broke off discreetly, and there was real concern in her eyes. There was also a trace of reddish brown along her left hand... From dorothea at textartisan.com Sun Dec 26 18:35:11 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Sun Dec 26 18:37:21 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <020901c4eba2$f7dcf9a0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> References: <20041226124009.76996.qmail@web50701.mail.yahoo.com> <41CEC515.3090108@mindspring.com><41CECB69.2030106@textartisan.com> <6.2.0.14.0.20041226152257.04123990@mail.cac.net> <00e601c4eb8c$0632ae30$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <6.2.0.14.0.20041226160109.04122d80@mail.cac.net> <41CF2972.4010709@elfworks.com> <41CF4343.9020406@mindspring.com> <020901c4eba2$f7dcf9a0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> Message-ID: <41CF4AAF.30103@textartisan.com> > Only moments after Lord Richard's return, Arabella came in with Pamela's > kit bag. She was slightly short of breath as she went to her daughter. > "Here you are, dear. Is it really...?" Her voice broke off discreetly, > and there was real concern in her eyes. There was also a trace of > reddish brown along her left hand... "Yes," Pamela murmured, taking the bag. "Stay here and be careful." Then, raising her voice to its usual volume, she said, "Thank you, Mum. Mrs. Skeffington-Nottle? Mr. Worthington? Are you coming?" From hmace at elfworks.com Sun Dec 26 18:37:56 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Sun Dec 26 18:37:54 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <020901c4eba2$f7dcf9a0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> References: <20041226124009.76996.qmail@web50701.mail.yahoo.com> <41CEC515.3090108@mindspring.com><41CECB69.2030106@textartisan.com> <6.2.0.14.0.20041226152257.04123990@mail.cac.net> <00e601c4eb8c$0632ae30$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <6.2.0.14.0.20041226160109.04122d80@mail.cac.net> <41CF2972.4010709@elfworks.com> <41CF4343.9020406@mindspring.com> <020901c4eba2$f7dcf9a0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> Message-ID: <41CF4B54.9010709@elfworks.com> >>> >> As the comforting and news spun around the room, leaving tears and >> shock in >> its wake, the door opened, and Richard stepped in. There was white gause >> around his hand, and a spot of blood on his palm. He started a cheery >> greeting, then stopped. >> >> "Eh-- Something's happened?" >> >> "Anton found the body of Miss Diamond." James said, turning to look at >> Marjorie. "By all accounts, it wasn't an accident or suicide, but a >> murder." He tried not to wince at the word, he had jumped to the >> conclusion moments before the party that had returned announced it. >> >> James hated being right sometimes. "Goodness..." Marjorie said, looking stunned. She looked at Richard's hand with a pale expression. "What's that on your hand?" she demanded anxiously. > Only moments after Lord Richard's return, Arabella came in with Pamela's > kit bag. She was slightly short of breath as she went to her daughter. > "Here you are, dear. Is it really...?" Her voice broke off discreetly, > and there was real concern in her eyes. There was also a trace of > reddish brown along her left hand... From veazeyae at gmail.com Sun Dec 26 18:52:19 2004 From: veazeyae at gmail.com (Allen Veazey) Date: Sun Dec 26 18:52:21 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <41CF4B54.9010709@elfworks.com> References: <20041226124009.76996.qmail@web50701.mail.yahoo.com> <41CECB69.2030106@textartisan.com> <6.2.0.14.0.20041226152257.04123990@mail.cac.net> <00e601c4eb8c$0632ae30$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <6.2.0.14.0.20041226160109.04122d80@mail.cac.net> <41CF2972.4010709@elfworks.com> <41CF4343.9020406@mindspring.com> <020901c4eba2$f7dcf9a0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <41CF4B54.9010709@elfworks.com> Message-ID: > "Goodness..." Marjorie said, looking stunned. She looked at Richard's > hand with a pale expression. "What's that on your hand?" she demanded > anxiously. > > > Only moments after Lord Richard's return, Arabella came in with Pamela's > > kit bag. She was slightly short of breath as she went to her daughter. > > "Here you are, dear. Is it really...?" Her voice broke off discreetly, > > and there was real concern in her eyes. There was also a trace of > > reddish brown along her left hand... "Yes, I'm coming," Warren said to Pamela. He slid back off of his bar stool and began to move in the direction of the door, but his attention was on Richards' and Arabella's responses... From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Sun Dec 26 19:14:33 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Sun Dec 26 19:13:53 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge References: <20041226124009.76996.qmail@web50701.mail.yahoo.com> <41CEC515.3090108@mindspring.com><41CECB69.2030106@textartisan.com> <6.2.0.14.0.20041226152257.04123990@mail.cac.net> <00e601c4eb8c$0632ae30$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <6.2.0.14.0.20041226160109.04122d80@mail.cac.net> <41CF2972.4010709@elfworks.com> <41CF4343.9020406@mindspring.com><020901c4eba2$f7dcf9a0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <41CF4AAF.30103@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <014401c4eba9$0b30bb80$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> Only moments after Lord Richard's return, Arabella came in with Pamela's >> kit bag. She was slightly short of breath as she went to her daughter. >> "Here you are, dear. Is it really...?" Her voice broke off discreetly, >> and there was real concern in her eyes. There was also a trace of reddish >> brown along her left hand... > > "Yes," Pamela murmured, taking the bag. "Stay here and be careful." Then, > raising her voice to its usual volume, she said, "Thank you, Mum. Mrs. > Skeffington-Nottle? Mr. Worthington? Are you coming?" > "Certainly," said Lucinda. "Is someone going with Officer Powell?" From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Sun Dec 26 19:18:23 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Sun Dec 26 19:17:57 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music References: <20041226231525.17284.qmail@web60809.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <014a01c4eba9$93d7f2a0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> "I'll help with the questioning," Marion >> volunteered. "I have >> experience with interviewing people, after all." >> >> Then she added, grim-faced, "And we might want to >> check people's >> hands. If you used a wire like that to strangle >> someone, it >> would cut into your hands too -- unless you were >> wearing heavy >> gloves." >> > > "And somebody should make sure that *nobody* leaves > the building," said Tabitha, now sweeping the hair off > Nola's neck to get a better look. She turned to face > the others. "Even if it wasn't one of us -- which is > extremely unlikely, I'm afraid -- we can't risk > letting anyone get away who might have seen something." > "Indeed," agreed Oswald. "When my wife and Lady Pamela come here, Miss Mauberley and I will cross to the Fitzroys'. I'll warn everyone that they're not to leave ... perhaps Hodges will be able to do something to secure the doors - although that might be a little danger if that incendiary goes off." From dorothea at textartisan.com Sun Dec 26 19:26:16 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Sun Dec 26 19:28:14 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music In-Reply-To: <014a01c4eba9$93d7f2a0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041226231525.17284.qmail@web60809.mail.yahoo.com> <014a01c4eba9$93d7f2a0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41CF56A8.9050301@textartisan.com> > "Indeed," agreed Oswald. "When my wife and Lady Pamela come here, Miss > Mauberley and I will cross to the Fitzroys'. I'll warn everyone that > they're not to leave ... perhaps Hodges will be able to do something to > secure the doors - although that might be a little danger if that > incendiary goes off." Nobility occasionally boasts a fine sense of timing; moments after Oswald mentioned her, Pamela appeared, arms full of a leather medical bag and a motley pile of linens. "Tabitha, whatever you can use from my bag is yours," she said. "Your wife and Mr. Worthington are right behind me, Mr. Skeffington-Nottle. Now, what should we do first?" From kcunningham40 at comcast.net Sun Dec 26 20:06:55 2004 From: kcunningham40 at comcast.net (Katie Fulton) Date: Sun Dec 26 20:05:08 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge References: <20041226124009.76996.qmail@web50701.mail.yahoo.com> <41CEC515.3090108@mindspring.com><41CECB69.2030106@textartisan.com> <6.2.0.14.0.20041226152257.04123990@mail.cac.net> <00e601c4eb8c$0632ae30$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <6.2.0.14.0.20041226160109.04122d80@mail.cac.net> <41CF2972.4010709@elfworks.com> <41CF4343.9020406@mindspring.com><020901c4eba2$f7dcf9a0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <41CF4B54.9010709@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <005501c4ebb0$5bc5d600$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> [Re-order to make sense] >> "Anton found the body of Miss Diamond." James said, turning to look at >> Marjorie. "By all accounts, it wasn't an accident or suicide, but a >> murder." He tried not to wince at the word, he had jumped to the >> conclusion moments before the party that had returned announced it. >> >> James hated being right sometimes. > Only moments after Lord Richard's return, Arabella came in with Pamela's > kit bag. She was slightly short of breath as she went to her daughter. > "Here you are, dear. Is it really...?" Her voice broke off discreetly, > and there was real concern in her eyes. There was also a trace of > reddish brown along her left hand... "Goodness..." Marjorie said, looking stunned. She looked at Richard's hand with a pale expression. "What's that on your hand?" she demanded anxiously. Richard held up his hand for her to inspect as his eyes scanned the room in shock. "I-- cut myself. Pen knife, in my pocket. Was rumaging for a lighter and... Dead? Just now? But I just saw her-- I was going to talk to her! I mean-- not that that's a reason not to die, but it's so bloody surreal..." His hand was bandaged with a clean, if somewhat old, gause. The bood didn't seem too bad, just a spot seeping through. From faespinner at yahoo.com Sun Dec 26 20:22:56 2004 From: faespinner at yahoo.com (Tara Kunkel) Date: Sun Dec 26 20:23:21 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <014401c4eba9$0b30bb80$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041226124009.76996.qmail@web50701.mail.yahoo.com> <41CEC515.3090108@mindspring.com> <41CECB69.2030106@textartisan.com> <6.2.0.14.0.20041226152257.04123990@mail.cac.net> <00e601c4eb8c$0632ae30$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <6.2.0.14.0.20041226160109.04122d80@mail.cac.net> <41CF2972.4010709@elfworks.com> <41CF4343.9020406@mindspring.com> <020901c4eba2$f7dcf9a0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <41CF4AAF.30103@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <5.1.0.14.0.20041226201942.027d60a0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> At 07:14 PM 12/26/2004, you wrote: >>>Only moments after Lord Richard's return, Arabella came in with Pamela's >>>kit bag. She was slightly short of breath as she went to her daughter. >>>"Here you are, dear. Is it really...?" Her voice broke off discreetly, >>>and there was real concern in her eyes. There was also a trace of >>>reddish brown along her left hand... >> >>"Yes," Pamela murmured, taking the bag. "Stay here and be careful." Then, >>raising her voice to its usual volume, she said, "Thank you, Mum. Mrs. >>Skeffington-Nottle? Mr. Worthington? Are you coming?" > >"Certainly," said Lucinda. "Is someone going with Officer Powell?" Braham had been caught in a bit of a stupor. Apparently this whole ordeal came as something of a shock to him. For the most part he had been staring in wide eyed silence as information flew about. Finally he realized he must do something however. "I'll go," he said as he moved towards Phillip his voice solemn. From faespinner at yahoo.com Sun Dec 26 20:26:54 2004 From: faespinner at yahoo.com (Tara Kunkel) Date: Sun Dec 26 20:27:18 2004 Subject: [MaC] An Interruption In-Reply-To: <20041224210113.29630.qmail@web20224.mail.yahoo.com> References: <016401c4e9f3$ca6751b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <5.1.0.14.0.20041226202445.027b21b8@pop.mail.yahoo.com> At 04:01 PM 12/24/2004, you wrote: >Slowly he began to fumble his way across the room, >excuse himself every few feet just to let others know >he was coming. > >And almost immediately he stumbled and fell ... and >Florence Beaman let out a yelp of pain. Braham quickly mumbled his apologized as he attempted to aid her back to her feet. The darkness made it nearly impossible for him to do as much though without first getting to his. Of course he did not want to step on her either. The result was a bit of stumbling mixed with several more apologies. >"Oh, Mrs. Beaman, darling, do let me help you up," >Nicola said, kneeling down to take the woman's hand. >"It's so very difficult with the blackout, why, it's a >miracle more people haven't collided into each other." > >The lift was clanking up to the lower floor of the >penthouse. > >"Well," said Lucinda, "someone had better go and meet >the man." > >She began to edge her way towards the stairs down to >the lower floor. > > > > >__________________________________ >Do you Yahoo!? >The all-new My Yahoo! - Get yours free! >http://my.yahoo.com > > > >_______________________________________________ >murder_at_christmas mailing list >murder_at_christmas@gamera.cc >http://gamera.cc/mailman/listinfo/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc From kris.kunkel at gmail.com Sun Dec 26 20:59:39 2004 From: kris.kunkel at gmail.com (Knave of Amber) Date: Sun Dec 26 20:59:43 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <5.1.0.14.0.20041226201942.027d60a0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> References: <20041226124009.76996.qmail@web50701.mail.yahoo.com> <00e601c4eb8c$0632ae30$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <6.2.0.14.0.20041226160109.04122d80@mail.cac.net> <41CF2972.4010709@elfworks.com> <41CF4343.9020406@mindspring.com> <020901c4eba2$f7dcf9a0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <41CF4AAF.30103@textartisan.com> <014401c4eba9$0b30bb80$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <5.1.0.14.0.20041226201942.027d60a0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <3b089f7c041226175952afd3dc@mail.gmail.com> > >>>Only moments after Lord Richard's return, Arabella came in with Pamela's > >>>kit bag. She was slightly short of breath as she went to her daughter. > >>>"Here you are, dear. Is it really...?" Her voice broke off discreetly, > >>>and there was real concern in her eyes. There was also a trace of > >>>reddish brown along her left hand... > >> > >>"Yes," Pamela murmured, taking the bag. "Stay here and be careful." Then, > >>raising her voice to its usual volume, she said, "Thank you, Mum. Mrs. > >>Skeffington-Nottle? Mr. Worthington? Are you coming?" > > > >"Certainly," said Lucinda. "Is someone going with Officer Powell?" > > Braham had been caught in a bit of a stupor. Apparently this whole ordeal > came as something of a shock to him. For the most part he had been staring > in wide eyed silence as information flew about. Finally he realized he must > do something however. > > "I'll go," he said as he moved towards Phillip his voice solemn. "Lucy, this is the last time I holiday with you and Skeffers," Michael says, tossing back the brandy he poured himself after the news. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you two are cursed." He crosses to the dowager and looks at her hand. "Are you alright, Lady Gower?" From jvstin at mindspring.com Sun Dec 26 21:36:07 2004 From: jvstin at mindspring.com (Jvstin(Mindspring)) Date: Sun Dec 26 21:36:21 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <3b089f7c041226175952afd3dc@mail.gmail.com> References: <20041226124009.76996.qmail@web50701.mail.yahoo.com> <00e601c4eb8c$0632ae30$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <6.2.0.14.0.20041226160109.04122d80@mail.cac.net> <41CF2972.4010709@elfworks.com> <41CF4343.9020406@mindspring.com> <020901c4eba2$f7dcf9a0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <41CF4AAF.30103@textartisan.com> <014401c4eba9$0b30bb80$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <5.1.0.14.0.20041226201942.027d60a0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <3b089f7c041226175952afd3dc@mail.gmail.com> Message-ID: <41CF7517.7020104@mindspring.com> on 12/26/2004 7:59 PM Knave of Amber said the following: >>>>>Only moments after Lord Richard's return, Arabella came in with Pamela's >>>>>kit bag. She was slightly short of breath as she went to her daughter. >>>>>"Here you are, dear. Is it really...?" Her voice broke off discreetly, >>>>>and there was real concern in her eyes. There was also a trace of >>>>>reddish brown along her left hand... >>>> >>>>"Yes," Pamela murmured, taking the bag. "Stay here and be careful." Then, >>>>raising her voice to its usual volume, she said, "Thank you, Mum. Mrs. >>>>Skeffington-Nottle? Mr. Worthington? Are you coming?" >>> >>>"Certainly," said Lucinda. "Is someone going with Officer Powell?" >> >>Braham had been caught in a bit of a stupor. Apparently this whole ordeal >>came as something of a shock to him. For the most part he had been staring >>in wide eyed silence as information flew about. Finally he realized he must >>do something however. >> >>"I'll go," he said as he moved towards Phillip his voice solemn. > > > "Lucy, this is the last time I holiday with you and Skeffers," Michael > says, tossing back the brandy he poured himself after the news. "If I > didn't know better, I'd think you two are cursed." "Cursed?" James asked querulously to Michael. > > Michael crosses to the dowager and looks at her hand. "Are you alright, Lady Gower?" > From nowsounds at comcast.net Sun Dec 26 21:50:26 2004 From: nowsounds at comcast.net (Nowsounds) Date: Sun Dec 26 21:50:36 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge References: <20041226124009.76996.qmail@web50701.mail.yahoo.com><00e601c4eb8c$0632ae30$0202a8c0@Behemoth><6.2.0.14.0.20041226160109.04122d80@mail.cac.net><41CF2972.4010709@elfworks.com><41CF4343.9020406@mindspring.com><020901c4eba2$f7dcf9a0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><41CF4AAF.30103@textartisan.com><014401c4eba9$0b30bb80$0202a8c0@Behemoth><5.1.0.14.0.20041226201942.027d60a0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <3b089f7c041226175952afd3dc@mail.gmail.com> Message-ID: <028101c4ebbe$d23eef70$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> > > "Lucy, this is the last time I holiday with you and Skeffers," Michael > says, tossing back the brandy he poured himself after the news. "If I > didn't know better, I'd think you two are cursed." > > He crosses to the dowager and looks at her hand. "Are you alright, Lady > Gower?" Arabella looked down at her hand, a bit puzzled, and then said, "Oh, yes. It's just paint, Captain. I'm afraid I brushed against that daub of mine while getting Pamela's bag... If you have a handkerchief you can spare..." From Mrfury28 at aol.com Sun Dec 26 22:05:52 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Sun Dec 26 22:06:00 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge Message-ID: <12b.532618a4.2f00d610@aol.com> This took him downstairs out of the lounge - in time to see Cyril examining the door of the flat opposite. Esme Fotzroy, doubtless alarmed by all the comings and goes, came out of her bedroom looking more than a little anxious. "Mr Hodges - what is going on?" she asked. "I'm afraid there has been an accident, Mrs. Fitzroy. Miss Diamond ... I believe she is dead." Hodges said stoically. "Mr. Beaman has given me some old towels so that those guests in the medical profession can determine what occurred. I came here to see if you had any old linens. We should cover her; it would only be decent." -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041226/401c884e/attachment.htm From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Sun Dec 26 23:54:29 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Sun Dec 26 23:54:28 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <5.1.0.14.0.20041226201942.027d60a0@pop.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <01a601c4ebd0$294e51a0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> > >"Certainly," said Lucinda. "Is someone going with Officer Powell?" > > Braham had been caught in a bit of a stupor. Apparently this > whole ordeal came as something of a shock to him. For the most > part he had been staring in wide eyed silence as information flew > about. Finally he realized he must do something however. > > "I'll go," he said as he moved towards Phillip his voice solemn. "Thank you, Mister...Davis, is it?" Philip said. "Let's go and get this resolved." With a nod to the others present, he turned and headed for the stairs. "I hope you don't mind the stairs," he said over his shoulder to Braham. "No offense meant to Mr. Hodges, but I'm not inclined to take the lift at the moment." From hmace at elfworks.com Mon Dec 27 04:06:46 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Mon Dec 27 04:07:45 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <01a601c4ebd0$294e51a0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> References: <01a601c4ebd0$294e51a0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Message-ID: <41CFD0A6.6080809@elfworks.com> >> >>Braham had been caught in a bit of a stupor. Apparently this >>whole ordeal came as something of a shock to him. For the most >>part he had been staring in wide eyed silence as information flew >>about. Finally he realized he must do something however. >> >>"I'll go," he said as he moved towards Phillip his voice solemn. > > > "Thank you, Mister...Davis, is it?" Philip said. "Let's go and get this > resolved." With a nod to the others present, he turned and headed for the > stairs. > > "I hope you don't mind the stairs," he said over his shoulder to Braham. "No > offense meant to Mr. Hodges, but I'm not inclined to take the lift at the > moment." "I can't believe she's been killed," Marjorie said almost to herself where she sat next to Anton. She seemed rather pale, almost ill. "I don't suppose I could have something to drink?" she asked. "Oh... I'll get it myself," she said when she realized there was no one behind the bar. She stood up, wobbled slightly, then moved toward the drinks. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Mon Dec 27 06:49:08 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Mon Dec 27 06:49:06 2004 Subject: [MaC] Speculation in the Lounge Message-ID: <006901c4ec0a$139338a0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> "Lucy, this is the last time I holiday with you and Skeffers," Michael said, tossing back the brandy he had poured himself after the news. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you two are cursed." Lucinda shook her head ruefully. "Cursed?" James asked querulously to Michael. "Gar ... Michael has met Oswald and me before," said Lucinda. "In ... rather unfortunate circumstances." Her look at him was suddenly speculative. "And how is Sandra these days?" she asked. (Response?) He crossed to the dowager and looked at her hand. "Are you alright, Lady Gower?" Arabella looked down at her hand, a bit puzzled, and then said, "Oh, yes. It's just paint, Captain. I'm afraid I brushed against that daub of mine while getting Pamela's bag... If you have a handkerchief you can spare..." "I can't believe she's been killed," Marjorie said almost to herself where she sat next to Anton. She seemed rather pale, almost ill. "I don't suppose I could have something to drink?" she asked. "Oh... I'll get it myself," she said when she realized there was no one behind the bar. She stood up, wobbled slightly, then moved toward the drinks. At this point, Hodges returned with Esme and the linens they had collected from downstairs. Pamela took the linens while Esme shot a worried look at her husband, and then at Anton - then back to her husband. "What's happened, Marty?" At this point, Pamela, Lucinda and Warren left to return to the pianist's lounge and the body. Marty tossed off his brandy and slammed the glass down on the bar with a curt nod to Marjorie to refill it. "Nola's managed to get herself murdered, that's what." The effect on Esme was dramatic. A hand went to her neck - she seemed to be clutching at her throat. "No!" she said shrilly. "I didn't do it! It wasn't me!" And she sank to the floor in a dead faint. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Mon Dec 27 07:07:15 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Mon Dec 27 07:07:14 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body References: <006901c4ec0a$139338a0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <007101c4ec0c$9c7e44a0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> "And somebody should make sure that =nobody= leaves the building," said Tabitha, now sweeping the hair off Nola's neck to get a better look. She turned to face the others. "Even if it wasn't one of us -- which is extremely unlikely, I'm afraid -- we can't risk letting anyone get away who might have seen something." "Indeed," agreed Oswald. "When my wife and Lady Pamela come here, Miss Mauberley and I will cross to the Fitzroys'. I'll warn everyone that they're not to leave ... perhaps Hodges will be able to do something to secure the doors - although that might be a little danger if that incendiary goes off." Nobility occasionally boasts a fine sense of timing; moments after Oswald mentioned her, Pamela appeared, arms full of a leather medical bag and a motley pile of linens. "Tabitha, whatever you can use from my bag is yours," she said. "Your wife and Mr. Worthington are right behind me, Mr. Skeffington-Nottle. Now, what should we do first?" It was agreed that Oswald and Marion should withdraw to the lounge to arrange to question Anton, so that Tabitha, Pamela and Lucinda could examine the body. "Although I'll probably be more use examining the room," said Lucinda frankly. "I'm not much of one for examining dead bodies, to be honest." Accordingly, she took a seat to one side while the two trained nurses began their preliminary examination. It appeared to both of them that Nola had been strangled with a ligature of some sort, now removed. She had fought, it seemed, but the gloves she had been wearing had prevented her from - for example - scratching the face of her murderer. One shoe had fallen off - it was possible that she had kicked her murderer. "Not that that would tell us much," said Lucinda ruefully when they told her. "Most of us have bruises all over from taking tumbles in the blackout. I know I do!" From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Mon Dec 27 07:42:47 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Mon Dec 27 07:42:43 2004 Subject: [MaC] Breaking the news References: <006901c4ec0a$139338a0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <008201c4ec11$91c87850$0202a8c0@Behemoth> "Thank you, Mister...Davis, is it?" Philip said. "Let's go and get this resolved." With a nod to the others present, he turned and headed for the stairs. "I hope you don't mind the stairs," he said over his shoulder to Braham. "No offense meant to Mr. Hodges, but I'm not inclined to take the lift at the moment." As they went downstairs to the front foor of the flat and out to where the main stairs were, they saw Cyril Beaman just inside the half-open front door of Anton Barwenski's flat. He was straightening up - as though he had been kneeling, and had just risen to his feet again. (OOC - carrying on, or stopping for a word?) From dorothea at textartisan.com Mon Dec 27 09:01:48 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Mon Dec 27 09:03:55 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body In-Reply-To: <007101c4ec0c$9c7e44a0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <006901c4ec0a$139338a0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <007101c4ec0c$9c7e44a0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41D015CC.2090101@textartisan.com> > "Although I'll probably be more use examining the room," said Lucinda > frankly. "I'm not much of one for examining dead bodies, to be honest." > > Accordingly, she took a seat to one side while the two trained nurses > began their preliminary examination. "Tuning fork," Pamela said at one point, apropos of absolutely nothing. "Mrs. Skeffington-Nottle, have you seen a tuning fork or anything of that ilk lying about in here?" > It appeared to both of them that Nola had been strangled with a ligature > of some sort, now removed. She had fought, it seemed, but the gloves > she had been wearing had prevented her from - for example - scratching > the face of her murderer. One shoe had fallen off - it was possible > that she had kicked her murderer. > > "Not that that would tell us much," said Lucinda ruefully when they told > her. "Most of us have bruises all over from taking tumbles in the > blackout. I know I do!" "Or she might have been trying to run," Pamela suggested. Keeping her voice level had become something of a strain; Pamela wasn't cut out to be a coroner. "Errrr... Tabitha, could you please look at this when you've a moment?" She pointed first to dark circles around Nola's eyes, and then to dark purple splotches on her stomach. "It looks for all the world like blood-poisoning -- a rather advanced case of it, I should say -- and yet I haven't found any sign of an infected wound. I don't know *anything* about poisons, I'm afraid; not something Our Boys tend to run into. Is there one that would do this?" From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Mon Dec 27 10:42:59 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Mon Dec 27 10:43:03 2004 Subject: [MaC] Breaking the news In-Reply-To: <008201c4ec11$91c87850$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <000e01c4ec2a$c13564e0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> > As they went downstairs to the front foor of the flat and out > to where the main stairs were, they saw Cyril Beaman just > inside the half-open front door of Anton Barwenski's flat. > He was straightening up - as though he had been kneeling, and > had just risen to his feet again. "Find anything of interest?" Philip asked. From windeaglebjm at yahoo.com Mon Dec 27 10:58:17 2004 From: windeaglebjm at yahoo.com (Brenda McCartney) Date: Mon Dec 27 10:58:20 2004 Subject: [MaC] Breaking the news In-Reply-To: <000e01c4ec2a$c13564e0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Message-ID: <20041227155817.6120.qmail@web50701.mail.yahoo.com> --- Brian Schoner wrote: > > As they went downstairs to the front foor of the flat and out > > to where the main stairs were, they saw Cyril Beaman just > > inside the half-open front door of Anton Barwenski's flat. > > He was straightening up - as though he had been kneeling, and > > had just risen to his feet again. > > "Find anything of interest?" Philip asked. "No. Nothing," Cyril answered with disappointment. "When I was out here on my way to my own flat earlier, I thought I saw someone go into Anton's flat from this door. I thought perhaps that person might have come out this way as well, but," he shook his head, "I don't see any sign of it." "Where are you lads off to?" Cyril asked the two younger men. __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! Mail - Find what you need with new enhanced search. http://info.mail.yahoo.com/mail_250 From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Mon Dec 27 11:29:33 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Mon Dec 27 11:29:40 2004 Subject: [MaC] Breaking the news In-Reply-To: <20041227155817.6120.qmail@web50701.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <001101c4ec31$446f1620$96f1fea9@BriansPC> > "No. Nothing," Cyril answered with disappointment. "When I > was out here on my way to my own flat earlier, I thought I > saw someone go into Anton's flat from this door. I thought > perhaps that person might have come out this way as well, > but," he shook his head, "I don't see any sign of it." "Not that there would necessarily be much to notice if someone had," Philip noted. [OOC -- Mel, what are the floors like? Carpet, wood, tile? Something that might show signs of passage?] > "Where are you lads off to?" Cyril asked the two younger men. "Off to notify the authorities," Philip replied. "I'm not sure what can be done with the UXB and all, but someone needs to know. Care to join us?" From faespinner at yahoo.com Mon Dec 27 11:39:47 2004 From: faespinner at yahoo.com (Tara Kunkel) Date: Mon Dec 27 11:40:08 2004 Subject: [MaC] Breaking the news In-Reply-To: <008201c4ec11$91c87850$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <006901c4ec0a$139338a0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <5.1.0.14.0.20041227112954.0279c480@pop.mail.yahoo.com> At 07:42 AM 12/27/2004, you wrote: >"Thank you, Mister...Davis, is it?" Philip said. Braham simply nodded. >"Let's go and get this resolved." With a nod to the others present, he >turned and headed for the stairs. Again a nod, "Yes. The sooner the better I believe." His voice lacked its earlier confidence but resolve remained in his composure. >"I hope you don't mind the stairs," he said over his shoulder to Braham. >"No offense meant to Mr. Hodges, but I'm not inclined to take the lift at >the moment." "Not at all. In fact most days I prefer them," he left it at that for the moment. Now was not the time for small talk. >As they went downstairs to the front door of the flat and out to where the >main stairs were, they saw Cyril Beaman just inside the half-open front >door of Anton Barwenski's flat. He was straightening up - as though he >had been kneeling, and had just risen to his feet again. >"Find anything of interest?" Philip asked. > >"No. Nothing," Cyril answered with disappointment. "When I was out >here on my way to my own flat earlier, I thought I saw someone go into >Anton's flat from this door. I thought perhaps that person might have >come out this way as well, but," he shook his head, "I don't see any >sign of it." "I am sure any signs left behind will be unintended," Braham replied clinically. "More then likely we should be looking for things that the perpetrator could not have controlled or would be unaware of. Most criminals think to cover up the obvious but they will often leave small clues behind in their haste. Some say this is because most actually want to be captured on a subconscious level," Braham shrugged and left it at that. He knew he was beginning to ramble. In times of stress his intellect tended to come to the forefront. Right now though he doubted either of his companions really wished to hear a lecture on criminal psychology. >"Where are you lads off to?" Cyril asked the two younger men. >"Off to notify the authorities," Philip replied. "I'm not sure what can be >done with the UXB and all, but someone needs to know. Care to join us?" From jvstin at gmail.com Mon Dec 27 14:36:53 2004 From: jvstin at gmail.com (Jvstin) Date: Mon Dec 27 14:36:57 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <41CFD0A6.6080809@elfworks.com> References: <01a601c4ebd0$294e51a0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> <41CFD0A6.6080809@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <36e1ae03041227113619470ab2@mail.gmail.com> On Mon, 27 Dec 2004 01:06:46 -0800, Heather Mace wrote: > >> > >>Braham had been caught in a bit of a stupor. Apparently this > >>whole ordeal came as something of a shock to him. For the most > >>part he had been staring in wide eyed silence as information flew > >>about. Finally he realized he must do something however. > >> > >>"I'll go," he said as he moved towards Phillip his voice solemn. > > > > > > "Thank you, Mister...Davis, is it?" Philip said. "Let's go and get this > > resolved." With a nod to the others present, he turned and headed for the > > stairs. > > > > "I hope you don't mind the stairs," he said over his shoulder to Braham. "No > > offense meant to Mr. Hodges, but I'm not inclined to take the lift at the > > moment." > > "I can't believe she's been killed," Marjorie said almost to herself > where she sat next to Anton. She seemed rather pale, almost ill. > "I don't suppose I could have something to drink?" she asked. > "Oh... I'll get it myself," she said when she realized there was no > one behind the bar. She stood up, wobbled slightly, then moved toward > the drinks. > "That sounds like a shockingly sensible idea." James commented. He rose, gave one more glance at Anton, and headed after Marjorie toward the bar. From nowsounds at comcast.net Mon Dec 27 14:45:59 2004 From: nowsounds at comcast.net (Nowsounds) Date: Mon Dec 27 14:46:14 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge References: <01a601c4ebd0$294e51a0$96f1fea9@BriansPC><41CFD0A6.6080809@elfworks.com> <36e1ae03041227113619470ab2@mail.gmail.com> Message-ID: <004d01c4ec4c$b308e230$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> >> >> "I can't believe she's been killed," Marjorie said almost to herself >> where she sat next to Anton. She seemed rather pale, almost ill. >> "I don't suppose I could have something to drink?" she asked. >> "Oh... I'll get it myself," she said when she realized there was no >> one behind the bar. She stood up, wobbled slightly, then moved toward >> the drinks. >> > "That sounds like a shockingly sensible idea." James commented. He > rose, gave one more glance at Anton, and headed after Marjorie toward > the bar. "That poor woman," Arabella said quietly. "What a terrible thing..." She was proud of Pamela for keeping her head, and hoped that it would not become too difficult for her daughter. "And poor Mr. Barowenski..." From windeaglebjm at yahoo.com Mon Dec 27 15:04:18 2004 From: windeaglebjm at yahoo.com (Brenda McCartney) Date: Mon Dec 27 15:04:25 2004 Subject: [MaC] Breaking the news In-Reply-To: <5.1.0.14.0.20041227112954.0279c480@pop.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <20041227200418.38046.qmail@web50702.mail.yahoo.com> --- Tara Kunkel wrote: > At 07:42 AM 12/27/2004, you wrote: > >"Thank you, Mister...Davis, is it?" Philip said. > > Braham simply nodded. > > >"Let's go and get this resolved." With a nod to the others present, > he > >turned and headed for the stairs. > > Again a nod, "Yes. The sooner the better I believe." His voice lacked > its > earlier confidence but resolve remained in his composure. > > >"I hope you don't mind the stairs," he said over his shoulder to > Braham. > >"No offense meant to Mr. Hodges, but I'm not inclined to take the > lift at > >the moment." > > "Not at all. In fact most days I prefer them," he left it at that for > the > moment. Now was not the time for small talk. > > >As they went downstairs to the front door of the flat and out to > where the > >main stairs were, they saw Cyril Beaman just inside the half-open > front > >door of Anton Barwenski's flat. He was straightening up - as though > he > >had been kneeling, and had just risen to his feet again. > > >"Find anything of interest?" Philip asked. > > > >"No. Nothing," Cyril answered with disappointment. "When I was out > >here on my way to my own flat earlier, I thought I saw someone go > into > >Anton's flat from this door. I thought perhaps that person might > have > >come out this way as well, but," he shook his head, "I don't see any > >sign of it." > > "I am sure any signs left behind will be unintended," Braham replied > clinically. "More then likely we should be looking for things that > the > perpetrator could not have controlled or would be unaware of. Most > criminals think to cover up the obvious but they will often leave > small > clues behind in their haste. Some say this is because most actually > want to > be captured on a subconscious level," Braham shrugged and left it at > that. > He knew he was beginning to ramble. In times of stress his intellect > tended > to come to the forefront. Right now though he doubted either of his > companions really wished to hear a lecture on criminal psychology. > > >"Where are you lads off to?" Cyril asked the two younger men. > > >"Off to notify the authorities," Philip replied. "I'm not sure what > can be > >done with the UXB and all, but someone needs to know. Care to join > us?" Cyril looked toward the Fitzroy flat with concern, then, deciding that Florence would be all right for the time it took to alert the authorities, nodded and said, "I'm not sure what use I'll be, but yes, I'll come with you." __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? The all-new My Yahoo! - What will yours do? http://my.yahoo.com From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Mon Dec 27 15:12:25 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Mon Dec 27 15:12:22 2004 Subject: [MaC] Breaking the news In-Reply-To: <20041227200418.38046.qmail@web50702.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <001401c4ec50$61e0ae70$96f1fea9@BriansPC> > Cyril looked toward the Fitzroy flat with concern, then, > deciding that Florence would be all right for the time it > took to alert the authorities, nodded and said, "I'm not sure > what use I'll be, but yes, I'll come with you." "Fair enough, then. Let's be off." Philip headed downstairs, with the others (presumably) in tow. [Mel, anyone at or near the front entrance who's obviously with the UXB team or the air wardens?] From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Mon Dec 27 15:26:04 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Mon Dec 27 15:26:08 2004 Subject: [MaC] Breaking the news References: <001101c4ec31$446f1620$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Message-ID: <00dd01c4ec52$4a3c3670$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> "No. Nothing," Cyril answered with disappointment. "When I >> was out here on my way to my own flat earlier, I thought I >> saw someone go into Anton's flat from this door. I thought >> perhaps that person might have come out this way as well, >> but," he shook his head, "I don't see any sign of it." > > "Not that there would necessarily be much to notice if someone had," > Philip > noted. > > [OOC -- Mel, what are the floors like? Carpet, wood, tile? Something that > might show signs of passage?] There was a thick caret in the centre of tha hall, with wooden parqueting flooring either side. If someone was careless (or struggling) going in or out, it was quite possible marks might show on the floor. But there was no sign at all of this, as Cyril had said. > >> "Where are you lads off to?" Cyril asked the two younger men. > > "Off to notify the authorities," Philip replied. "I'm not sure what can be > done with the UXB and all, but someone needs to know. Care to join us?" > > Cyril looked toward the Fitzroy flat with concern, then, > deciding that Florence would be all right for the time it > took to alert the authorities, nodded and said, "I'm not sure > what use I'll be, but yes, I'll come with you." "Fair enough, then. Let's be off." Philip headed downstairs, with the others (presumably) in tow. [Mel, anyone at or near the front entrance who's obviously with the UXB team or the air wardens?] The hall was, as they ight expect, in complete darkness. However, when they opened the door of the flats there was a sudden shout. "Oi! Stay inside! Haven't you lot bin warned, eh?" It was another ARP warden on the nearest corner of the street. From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Mon Dec 27 15:30:14 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Mon Dec 27 15:30:15 2004 Subject: [MaC] Breaking the news In-Reply-To: <00dd01c4ec52$4a3c3670$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <001501c4ec52$e1dac1e0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> > The hall was, as they ight expect, in complete darkness. > However, when they opened the door of the flats there was a > sudden shout. > > "Oi! Stay inside! Haven't you lot bin warned, eh?" > > It was another ARP warden on the nearest corner of the street. "We have, sir, thank you," Philip called back. "But there's been a...mishap in one of the flats. I'd prefer not to shout about it; can you come closer, or perhaps send someone along? I'm afraid we'll need the police." From faespinner at yahoo.com Mon Dec 27 15:30:01 2004 From: faespinner at yahoo.com (Tara Kunkel) Date: Mon Dec 27 15:30:29 2004 Subject: [MaC] Breaking the news In-Reply-To: <00dd01c4ec52$4a3c3670$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <001101c4ec31$446f1620$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Message-ID: <5.1.0.14.0.20041227152829.0275ac50@pop.mail.yahoo.com> >>Cyril looked toward the Fitzroy flat with concern, then, >>deciding that Florence would be all right for the time it >>took to alert the authorities, nodded and said, "I'm not sure >>what use I'll be, but yes, I'll come with you." > >"Fair enough, then. Let's be off." > >Philip headed downstairs, with the others (presumably) in tow. > >The hall was, as they ight expect, in complete darkness. However, when >they opened the door of the flats there was a sudden shout. > >"Oi! Stay inside! Haven't you lot bin warned, eh?" > >It was another ARP warden on the nearest corner of the street. "We have indeed been warned," Braham called out. "But we have a bit of a situation here and we wished to alert the authorities." He hoped that would be enough to bring the man to them. He certainly did not want to call out the details of the situation for all to hear. From kcunningham40 at comcast.net Mon Dec 27 16:08:52 2004 From: kcunningham40 at comcast.net (Katie Fulton) Date: Mon Dec 27 16:07:07 2004 Subject: [MaC] Speculation in the Lounge References: <006901c4ec0a$139338a0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <014c01c4ec58$44a074a0$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> At this point, Hodges returned with Esme and the linens they had collected from downstairs. Pamela took the linens while Esme shot a worried look at her husband, and then at Anton - then back to her husband. "What's happened, Marty?" At this point, Pamela, Lucinda and Warren left to return to the pianist's lounge and the body. Marty tossed off his brandy and slammed the glass down on the bar with a curt nod to Marjorie to refill it. "Nola's managed to get herself murdered, that's what." The effect on Esme was dramatic. A hand went to her neck - she seemed to be clutching at her throat. "No!" she said shrilly. "I didn't do it! It wasn't me!" And she sank to the floor in a dead faint. Richard, not too far away, pulled his hand back from the impromptu examination and moved to where Esme had fallen. He crouched, pulling off his jacket to make a pillow for her head. He looked up at Marty. "Have some salts nearby?" he asked calmly, as if he hadn't heard Esme's cry. From hmace at elfworks.com Mon Dec 27 16:10:22 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Mon Dec 27 16:10:21 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <004d01c4ec4c$b308e230$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> References: <01a601c4ebd0$294e51a0$96f1fea9@BriansPC><41CFD0A6.6080809@elfworks.com> <36e1ae03041227113619470ab2@mail.gmail.com> <004d01c4ec4c$b308e230$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> Message-ID: <41D07A3E.9000108@elfworks.com> >>> >> "That sounds like a shockingly sensible idea." James commented. He >> rose, gave one more glance at Anton, and headed after Marjorie toward >> the bar. > > > "That poor woman," Arabella said quietly. "What a terrible thing..." She > was proud of Pamela for keeping her head, and hoped that it would not > become too difficult for her daughter. "And poor Mr. Barowenski..." Marjorie came around the bar and picked up the gin bottle. "She was just here... I made her a gin and tonic, then another," she said as she started to pour into a glass. "But Mr. Hodges came back from fixing the lift and took away her drink and she stormed off... And then there was the blackout..." She put down the gin bottle and picked up the tonic. From jjkatalenic at yahoo.com Mon Dec 27 16:20:21 2004 From: jjkatalenic at yahoo.com (Jonathan Katalenic) Date: Mon Dec 27 16:20:26 2004 Subject: [MaC] Speculation in the Lounge In-Reply-To: <014c01c4ec58$44a074a0$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> Message-ID: <20041227212021.75999.qmail@web20224.mail.yahoo.com> "No!" she said shrilly. "I didn't do it! It wasn't me!" And she sank to the floor in a dead faint. Richard, not too far away, pulled his hand back from the impromptu examination and moved to where Esme had fallen. He crouched, pulling off his jacket to make a pillow for her head. He looked up at Marty. "Have some salts nearby?" he asked calmly, as if he hadn't heard Esme's cry. "Oh, dear," Nicola said. "I don't have any, but there might be some in her purse." She took Esme's purse, opened it and dumped out the contents onto the settee. [OOC: So, Mel- what's in the bag?] __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Send a seasonal email greeting and help others. Do good. http://celebrity.mail.yahoo.com From rmpruehs at cac.net Mon Dec 27 16:39:10 2004 From: rmpruehs at cac.net (Ree Moorhead Pruehs) Date: Mon Dec 27 16:39:39 2004 Subject: [MaC] Speculation in the Lounge In-Reply-To: <20041227212021.75999.qmail@web20224.mail.yahoo.com> References: <014c01c4ec58$44a074a0$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> <20041227212021.75999.qmail@web20224.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <6.2.0.14.0.20041227162753.042d5e50@mail.cac.net> >"No!" she said shrilly. "I didn't do it! It wasn't >me!" > >And she sank to the floor in a dead faint. > >Richard, not too far away, pulled his hand back from >the impromptu >examination and moved to where Esme had fallen. He >crouched, pulling >off his >jacket to make a pillow for her head. He looked up at >Marty. > >"Have some salts nearby?" he asked calmly, as if he >hadn't heard Esme's cry. > >"Oh, dear," Nicola said. "I don't have any, but there >might be some in her purse." She took Esme's purse, >opened it and dumped out the contents onto the settee. > >[OOC: So, Mel- what's in the bag?] > > Only after Nicola had done so did Vangie open her own clutch purse and produce a small bottle, which she handed to Richard almost absentmindedly. Her sharp gaze was on the contents of the purse dumped out on the settee. From kcunningham40 at comcast.net Mon Dec 27 17:19:04 2004 From: kcunningham40 at comcast.net (Katie Fulton) Date: Mon Dec 27 17:17:19 2004 Subject: [MaC] Speculation in the Lounge References: <014c01c4ec58$44a074a0$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh><20041227212021.75999.qmail@web20224.mail.yahoo.com> <6.2.0.14.0.20041227162753.042d5e50@mail.cac.net> Message-ID: <017001c4ec62$138e0080$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> >"Oh, dear," Nicola said. "I don't have any, but there >might be some in her purse." She took Esme's purse, >opened it and dumped out the contents onto the settee. Only after Nicola had done so did Vangie open her own clutch purse and produce a small bottle, which she handed to Richard almost absentmindedly. Her sharp gaze was on the contents of the purse dumped out on the settee. Richard accepted it, uncapped it, and wafted it under the fallen wife's nose. And while it seemed most of his attention was on her, he did seem to have a spare eye for the bag as well. From veazeyae at gmail.com Mon Dec 27 17:20:19 2004 From: veazeyae at gmail.com (Allen Veazey) Date: Mon Dec 27 17:20:20 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body In-Reply-To: <41D015CC.2090101@textartisan.com> References: <006901c4ec0a$139338a0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <007101c4ec0c$9c7e44a0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D015CC.2090101@textartisan.com> Message-ID: > "Or she might have been trying to run," Pamela suggested. Keeping her > voice level had become something of a strain; Pamela wasn't cut out to > be a coroner. "Errrr... Tabitha, could you please look at this when > you've a moment?" She pointed first to dark circles around Nola's eyes, > and then to dark purple splotches on her stomach. "It looks for all the > world like blood-poisoning -- a rather advanced case of it, I should say > -- and yet I haven't found any sign of an infected wound. I don't know > *anything* about poisons, I'm afraid; not something Our Boys tend to run > into. Is there one that would do this?" Warren had shook his head, indicating he knew little, if anything, about the subject. He had limped to the piano, and was lifting the top of the instrument to look inside. From hmace at elfworks.com Mon Dec 27 17:48:33 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Mon Dec 27 17:48:31 2004 Subject: [MaC] Speculation in the Lounge In-Reply-To: <017001c4ec62$138e0080$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> References: <014c01c4ec58$44a074a0$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh><20041227212021.75999.qmail@web20224.mail.yahoo.com> <6.2.0.14.0.20041227162753.042d5e50@mail.cac.net> <017001c4ec62$138e0080$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> Message-ID: <41D09141.60403@elfworks.com> >>"Oh, dear," Nicola said. "I don't have any, but there >>might be some in her purse." She took Esme's purse, >>opened it and dumped out the contents onto the settee. > > > Only after Nicola had done so did Vangie open her own clutch purse and > produce a small bottle, which she handed to Richard almost absentmindedly. > Her sharp gaze was on the contents of the purse dumped out on the settee. > > Richard accepted it, uncapped it, and wafted it under the fallen wife's > nose. And while it seemed most of his attention was on her, he did seem to > have a spare eye for the bag as well. "Ain't that a sight," Marjorie said from over by the bar, a half drunk glass of gin and tonic in her hand. Fitzroy's empty glass still stood on the top of the bar. "No sooner does the poor woman collapse than the rest of you are going through her bag," she said sarcastically. "Maybe Nola killed herself because someone robbed her." From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Mon Dec 27 18:02:54 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Mon Dec 27 18:02:46 2004 Subject: [MaC] Speculation in the Lounge References: <014c01c4ec58$44a074a0$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh><20041227212021.75999.qmail@web20224.mail.yahoo.com><6.2.0.14.0.20041227162753.042d5e50@mail.cac.net> <017001c4ec62$138e0080$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> Message-ID: <010901c4ec68$32dfd3e0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> > >"Oh, dear," Nicola said. "I don't have any, but there >>might be some in her purse." She took Esme's purse, >>opened it and dumped out the contents onto the settee. > > Only after Nicola had done so did Vangie open her own clutch purse and > produce a small bottle, which she handed to Richard almost absentmindedly. > Her sharp gaze was on the contents of the purse dumped out on the settee. > > Richard accepted it, uncapped it, and wafted it under the fallen wife's > nose. And while it seemed most of his attention was on her, he did seem to > have a spare eye for the bag as well. > The contents of Esme's handbag included a handkerchief, a purse*, a fountain pen, a small leatherbound book, and two letters. One bore a Bethnal Green postmark, and one a rather more exotic postmark - it looked to be in cyrllic script, and the picture showed a rather burly factory worker in the act of stoking a furnace, muscles rippling. As Richard waved the salts under her nose, Esme gave a moan and opened her eyes. "What ... what's happened?" she asked feebly. "Oh... my handbag! Give me my handbag!" She shot an apprehensive look at her husband, who was still waiting for Marjorie to pour him a drink. *In the UK, a purse is a small thing where you keep coins. Women have them - men tend to leave change loose in their pockets. What Americans call a purse, we call a handbag. From jadethe2nd at yahoo.com Mon Dec 27 18:03:00 2004 From: jadethe2nd at yahoo.com (Jade) Date: Mon Dec 27 18:03:02 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body In-Reply-To: Message-ID: <20041227230300.1876.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com> > "Or she might have been trying to run," > Pamela suggested. Keeping her > voice level had become something of a strain; > Pamela wasn't cut out to > be a coroner. "Errrr... Tabitha, could you please > look at this when > you've a moment?" She pointed first to dark > circles around Nola's eyes, > and then to dark purple splotches on her stomach. > "It looks for all the > world like blood-poisoning -- a rather advanced > case of it, I should say > -- and yet I haven't found any sign of an infected > wound. I don't know > *anything* about poisons, I'm afraid; not > something Our Boys tend to run > into. Is there one that would do this?" "I'm not sure... I think it's more likely to be from some kind of drug usage. She is -- was -- an actress, after all. One does hear about things like that on occasion." Tabitha bent down to take a closer look. Warren had shook his head, indicating he knew little, if anything, about the subject. He had limped to the piano, and was lifting the top of the instrument to look inside. __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! Mail - Find what you need with new enhanced search. http://info.mail.yahoo.com/mail_250 From kcunningham40 at comcast.net Mon Dec 27 18:14:00 2004 From: kcunningham40 at comcast.net (Katie Fulton) Date: Mon Dec 27 18:12:17 2004 Subject: [MaC] Speculation in the Lounge References: <014c01c4ec58$44a074a0$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh><20041227212021.75999.qmail@web20224.mail.yahoo.com><6.2.0.14.0.20041227162753.042d5e50@mail.cac.net><017001c4ec62$138e0080$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> <010901c4ec68$32dfd3e0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <019401c4ec69$c0104730$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> > >"Oh, dear," Nicola said. "I don't have any, but there >>might be some in her purse." She took Esme's purse, >>opened it and dumped out the contents onto the settee. > > Only after Nicola had done so did Vangie open her own clutch purse and > produce a small bottle, which she handed to Richard almost absentmindedly. > Her sharp gaze was on the contents of the purse dumped out on the settee. > > Richard accepted it, uncapped it, and wafted it under the fallen wife's > nose. And while it seemed most of his attention was on her, he did seem to > have a spare eye for the bag as well. > The contents of Esme's handbag included a handkerchief, a purse*, a fountain pen, a small leatherbound book, and two letters. One bore a Bethnal Green postmark, and one a rather more exotic postmark - it looked to be in cyrllic script, and the picture showed a rather burly factory worker in the act of stoking a furnace, muscles rippling. As Richard waved the salts under her nose, Esme gave a moan and opened her eyes. "What ... what's happened?" she asked feebly. "Oh... my handbag! Give me my handbag!" She shot an apprehensive look at her husband, who was still waiting for Marjorie to pour him a drink. "You passed out," explained Richard. "We thought you might have some salts, that it might be a... condition with you." He eased her up. "You went a little senseless right before you went limp, actually. Talking nonsense." From dorothea at textartisan.com Mon Dec 27 18:16:56 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Mon Dec 27 18:18:53 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body In-Reply-To: <20041227230300.1876.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com> References: <20041227230300.1876.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <41D097E8.4000301@textartisan.com> > "I'm not sure... I think it's more likely to be from > some kind of drug usage. She is -- was -- an actress, > after all. One does hear about things like that on > occasion." Tabitha bent down to take a closer look. Pamela let go a brief, mirthless laugh. "Aren't I the innocent?" she said. "I daresay you're quite right. Have you turned up anything?" > Warren had shook his head, indicating he knew > little, if anything, > about the subject. He had limped to the piano, and > was lifting > the top of the instrument to look inside. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Mon Dec 27 18:31:46 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Mon Dec 27 18:31:37 2004 Subject: [MaC] Speculation in the Lounge References: <014c01c4ec58$44a074a0$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh><20041227212021.75999.qmail@web20224.mail.yahoo.com> <6.2.0.14.0.20041227162753.042d5e50@mail.cac.net><017001c4ec62$138e0080$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> <41D09141.60403@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <013201c4ec6c$3b031f60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> Only after Nicola had done so did Vangie open her own clutch purse and >> produce a small bottle, which she handed to Richard almost >> absentmindedly. >> Her sharp gaze was on the contents of the purse dumped out on the settee. >> >> Richard accepted it, uncapped it, and wafted it under the fallen wife's >> nose. And while it seemed most of his attention was on her, he did seem >> to >> have a spare eye for the bag as well. > > "Ain't that a sight," Marjorie said from over by the bar, a > half drunk glass of gin and tonic in her hand. Fitzroy's > empty glass still stood on the top of the bar. "No sooner > does the poor woman collapse than the rest of you are going > through her bag," she said sarcastically. "Maybe Nola killed > herself because someone robbed her." Marty Fotzroy swung round at this, looking with slightly bulging eyes at where Esme's possession were scattered on the sette. His rather prominent eyes bulged alarmingly. The contents of Esme's handbag included a handkerchief, a purse*, a fountain pen, a small leatherbound book, and two letters. One bore a Bethnal Green postmark, and one a rather more exotic postmark - it looked to be in cyrllic script, and the picture showed a rather burly factory worker in the act of stoking a furnace, muscles rippling. As Richard waved the salts under her nose, Esme gave a moan and opened her eyes. "What ... what's happened?" she asked feebly. "Oh... my handbag! Give me my handbag!" She shot an apprehensive look at her husband, who was still waiting for Marjorie to pour him a drink. "You passed out," explained Richard. "We thought you might have some salts, that it might be a... condition with you." He eased her up. "You went a little senseless right before you went limp, actually. Talking nonsense." "What ... wha ... " Esme quavered. Then she moved towards the settee and the contents of her bag. Her husband took a step towards her. "Leave that!" he ordered. "Have we missed much?" said a voice from the service door. It was Oswald Skeffington-Nottle, with Marion Mauberley by his side. From melmason at oxmust.co.uk Mon Dec 27 18:37:28 2004 From: melmason at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Mon Dec 27 18:37:23 2004 Subject: [MaC] Murder_at_Christmas Digest, Vol 1, Issue 36 References: <200412272256.BMJ31594@c2bthimr07.btconnect.com> Message-ID: <013a01c4ec6d$06dc2e60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Send murder_at_christmas mailing list submissions to murder_at_christmas@gamera.cc To subscribe or unsubscribe via the World Wide Web, visit http://gamera.cc/mailman/listinfo/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc or, via email, send a message with subject or body 'help' to murder_at_christmas-request@gamera.cc You can reach the person managing the list at murder_at_christmas-owner@gamera.cc When replying, please edit your Subject line so it is more specific than "Re: Contents of murder_at_christmas digest..." Today's Topics: 1. RE: Breaking the news (Brian Schoner) 2. Re: Breaking the news (Tara Kunkel) 3. Re: Speculation in the Lounge (Katie Fulton) 4. Re: A pause in the music - Back in the lounge (Heather Mace) 5. Re: Speculation in the Lounge (Jonathan Katalenic) 6. Re: Speculation in the Lounge (Ree Moorhead Pruehs) 7. Re: Speculation in the Lounge (Katie Fulton) 8. Re: Examining the body (Allen Veazey) 9. Re: Speculation in the Lounge (Heather Mace) 10. Re: Speculation in the Lounge (Mel Mason) 11. Re: Examining the body (Jade) 12. Re: Speculation in the Lounge (Katie Fulton) ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Message: 1 Date: Mon, 27 Dec 2004 15:30:14 -0500 From: "Brian Schoner" Subject: RE: [MaC] Breaking the news > The hall was, as they ight expect, in complete darkness. > However, when they opened the door of the flats there was a > sudden shout. > > "Oi! Stay inside! Haven't you lot bin warned, eh?" > > It was another ARP warden on the nearest corner of the street. "We have, sir, thank you," Philip called back. "But there's been a...mishap in one of the flats. I'd prefer not to shout about it; can you come closer, or perhaps send someone along? I'm afraid we'll need the police." ------------------------------ Message: 2 Date: Mon, 27 Dec 2004 15:30:01 -0500 From: Tara Kunkel Subject: Re: [MaC] Breaking the news >>Cyril looked toward the Fitzroy flat with concern, then, >>deciding that Florence would be all right for the time it >>took to alert the authorities, nodded and said, "I'm not sure >>what use I'll be, but yes, I'll come with you." > >"Fair enough, then. Let's be off." > >Philip headed downstairs, with the others (presumably) in tow. > >The hall was, as they ight expect, in complete darkness. However, when >they opened the door of the flats there was a sudden shout. > >"Oi! Stay inside! Haven't you lot bin warned, eh?" > >It was another ARP warden on the nearest corner of the street. "We have indeed been warned," Braham called out. "But we have a bit of a situation here and we wished to alert the authorities." He hoped that would be enough to bring the man to them. He certainly did not want to call out the details of the situation for all to hear. ------------------------------ Message: 3 Date: Mon, 27 Dec 2004 16:08:52 -0500 From: "Katie Fulton" Subject: Re: [MaC] Speculation in the Lounge At this point, Hodges returned with Esme and the linens they had collected from downstairs. Pamela took the linens while Esme shot a worried look at her husband, and then at Anton - then back to her husband. "What's happened, Marty?" At this point, Pamela, Lucinda and Warren left to return to the pianist's lounge and the body. Marty tossed off his brandy and slammed the glass down on the bar with a curt nod to Marjorie to refill it. "Nola's managed to get herself murdered, that's what." The effect on Esme was dramatic. A hand went to her neck - she seemed to be clutching at her throat. "No!" she said shrilly. "I didn't do it! It wasn't me!" And she sank to the floor in a dead faint. Richard, not too far away, pulled his hand back from the impromptu examination and moved to where Esme had fallen. He crouched, pulling off his jacket to make a pillow for her head. He looked up at Marty. "Have some salts nearby?" he asked calmly, as if he hadn't heard Esme's cry. ------------------------------ Message: 4 Date: Mon, 27 Dec 2004 13:10:22 -0800 From: Heather Mace Subject: Re: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge >>> >> "That sounds like a shockingly sensible idea." James commented. He >> rose, gave one more glance at Anton, and headed after Marjorie toward >> the bar. > > > "That poor woman," Arabella said quietly. "What a terrible thing..." She > was proud of Pamela for keeping her head, and hoped that it would not > become too difficult for her daughter. "And poor Mr. Barowenski..." Marjorie came around the bar and picked up the gin bottle. "She was just here... I made her a gin and tonic, then another," she said as she started to pour into a glass. "But Mr. Hodges came back from fixing the lift and took away her drink and she stormed off... And then there was the blackout..." She put down the gin bottle and picked up the tonic. ------------------------------ Message: 5 Date: Mon, 27 Dec 2004 13:20:21 -0800 (PST) From: Jonathan Katalenic Subject: Re: [MaC] Speculation in the Lounge "No!" she said shrilly. "I didn't do it! It wasn't me!" And she sank to the floor in a dead faint. Richard, not too far away, pulled his hand back from the impromptu examination and moved to where Esme had fallen. He crouched, pulling off his jacket to make a pillow for her head. He looked up at Marty. "Have some salts nearby?" he asked calmly, as if he hadn't heard Esme's cry. "Oh, dear," Nicola said. "I don't have any, but there might be some in her purse." She took Esme's purse, opened it and dumped out the contents onto the settee. [OOC: So, Mel- what's in the bag?] ------------------------------ Message: 6 Date: Mon, 27 Dec 2004 16:39:10 -0500 From: Ree Moorhead Pruehs Subject: Re: [MaC] Speculation in the Lounge >"No!" she said shrilly. "I didn't do it! It wasn't >me!" > >And she sank to the floor in a dead faint. > >Richard, not too far away, pulled his hand back from >the impromptu >examination and moved to where Esme had fallen. He >crouched, pulling >off his >jacket to make a pillow for her head. He looked up at >Marty. > >"Have some salts nearby?" he asked calmly, as if he >hadn't heard Esme's cry. > >"Oh, dear," Nicola said. "I don't have any, but there >might be some in her purse." She took Esme's purse, >opened it and dumped out the contents onto the settee. > >[OOC: So, Mel- what's in the bag?] > > Only after Nicola had done so did Vangie open her own clutch purse and produce a small bottle, which she handed to Richard almost absentmindedly. Her sharp gaze was on the contents of the purse dumped out on the settee. ------------------------------ Message: 7 Date: Mon, 27 Dec 2004 17:19:04 -0500 From: "Katie Fulton" Subject: Re: [MaC] Speculation in the Lounge >"Oh, dear," Nicola said. "I don't have any, but there >might be some in her purse." She took Esme's purse, >opened it and dumped out the contents onto the settee. Only after Nicola had done so did Vangie open her own clutch purse and produce a small bottle, which she handed to Richard almost absentmindedly. Her sharp gaze was on the contents of the purse dumped out on the settee. Richard accepted it, uncapped it, and wafted it under the fallen wife's nose. And while it seemed most of his attention was on her, he did seem to have a spare eye for the bag as well. ------------------------------ Message: 8 Date: Mon, 27 Dec 2004 16:20:19 -0600 From: Allen Veazey Subject: Re: [MaC] Examining the body > "Or she might have been trying to run," Pamela suggested. Keeping > her > voice level had become something of a strain; Pamela wasn't cut out to > be a coroner. "Errrr... Tabitha, could you please look at this when > you've a moment?" She pointed first to dark circles around Nola's eyes, > and then to dark purple splotches on her stomach. "It looks for all the > world like blood-poisoning -- a rather advanced case of it, I should say > -- and yet I haven't found any sign of an infected wound. I don't know > *anything* about poisons, I'm afraid; not something Our Boys tend to run > into. Is there one that would do this?" Warren had shook his head, indicating he knew little, if anything, about the subject. He had limped to the piano, and was lifting the top of the instrument to look inside. ------------------------------ Message: 9 Date: Mon, 27 Dec 2004 14:48:33 -0800 From: Heather Mace Subject: Re: [MaC] Speculation in the Lounge >>"Oh, dear," Nicola said. "I don't have any, but there >>might be some in her purse." She took Esme's purse, >>opened it and dumped out the contents onto the settee. > > > Only after Nicola had done so did Vangie open her own clutch purse and > produce a small bottle, which she handed to Richard almost absentmindedly. > Her sharp gaze was on the contents of the purse dumped out on the settee. > > Richard accepted it, uncapped it, and wafted it under the fallen wife's > nose. And while it seemed most of his attention was on her, he did seem to > have a spare eye for the bag as well. "Ain't that a sight," Marjorie said from over by the bar, a half drunk glass of gin and tonic in her hand. Fitzroy's empty glass still stood on the top of the bar. "No sooner does the poor woman collapse than the rest of you are going through her bag," she said sarcastically. "Maybe Nola killed herself because someone robbed her." ------------------------------ Message: 10 Date: Mon, 27 Dec 2004 23:02:54 -0000 From: "Mel Mason" Subject: Re: [MaC] Speculation in the Lounge > >"Oh, dear," Nicola said. "I don't have any, but there >>might be some in her purse." She took Esme's purse, >>opened it and dumped out the contents onto the settee. > > Only after Nicola had done so did Vangie open her own clutch purse and > produce a small bottle, which she handed to Richard almost absentmindedly. > Her sharp gaze was on the contents of the purse dumped out on the settee. > > Richard accepted it, uncapped it, and wafted it under the fallen wife's > nose. And while it seemed most of his attention was on her, he did seem to > have a spare eye for the bag as well. > The contents of Esme's handbag included a handkerchief, a purse*, a fountain pen, a small leatherbound book, and two letters. One bore a Bethnal Green postmark, and one a rather more exotic postmark - it looked to be in cyrllic script, and the picture showed a rather burly factory worker in the act of stoking a furnace, muscles rippling. As Richard waved the salts under her nose, Esme gave a moan and opened her eyes. "What ... what's happened?" she asked feebly. "Oh... my handbag! Give me my handbag!" She shot an apprehensive look at her husband, who was still waiting for Marjorie to pour him a drink. *In the UK, a purse is a small thing where you keep coins. Women have them - men tend to leave change loose in their pockets. What Americans call a purse, we call a handbag. ------------------------------ Message: 11 Date: Mon, 27 Dec 2004 15:03:00 -0800 (PST) From: Jade Subject: Re: [MaC] Examining the body > "Or she might have been trying to run," > Pamela suggested. Keeping her > voice level had become something of a strain; > Pamela wasn't cut out to > be a coroner. "Errrr... Tabitha, could you please > look at this when > you've a moment?" She pointed first to dark > circles around Nola's eyes, > and then to dark purple splotches on her stomach. > "It looks for all the > world like blood-poisoning -- a rather advanced > case of it, I should say > -- and yet I haven't found any sign of an infected > wound. I don't know > *anything* about poisons, I'm afraid; not > something Our Boys tend to run > into. Is there one that would do this?" "I'm not sure... I think it's more likely to be from some kind of drug usage. She is -- was -- an actress, after all. One does hear about things like that on occasion." Tabitha bent down to take a closer look. Warren had shook his head, indicating he knew little, if anything, about the subject. He had limped to the piano, and was lifting the top of the instrument to look inside. ------------------------------ Message: 12 Date: Mon, 27 Dec 2004 18:14:00 -0500 From: "Katie Fulton" Subject: Re: [MaC] Speculation in the Lounge > >"Oh, dear," Nicola said. "I don't have any, but there >>might be some in her purse." She took Esme's purse, >>opened it and dumped out the contents onto the settee. > > Only after Nicola had done so did Vangie open her own clutch purse and > produce a small bottle, which she handed to Richard almost absentmindedly. > Her sharp gaze was on the contents of the purse dumped out on the settee. > > Richard accepted it, uncapped it, and wafted it under the fallen wife's > nose. And while it seemed most of his attention was on her, he did seem to > have a spare eye for the bag as well. > The contents of Esme's handbag included a handkerchief, a purse*, a fountain pen, a small leatherbound book, and two letters. One bore a Bethnal Green postmark, and one a rather more exotic postmark - it looked to be in cyrllic script, and the picture showed a rather burly factory worker in the act of stoking a furnace, muscles rippling. As Richard waved the salts under her nose, Esme gave a moan and opened her eyes. "What ... what's happened?" she asked feebly. "Oh... my handbag! Give me my handbag!" She shot an apprehensive look at her husband, who was still waiting for Marjorie to pour him a drink. "You passed out," explained Richard. "We thought you might have some salts, that it might be a... condition with you." He eased her up. "You went a little senseless right before you went limp, actually. Talking nonsense." ------------------------------ _______________________________________________ murder_at_christmas mailing list murder_at_christmas@gamera.cc http://gamera.cc/mailman/listinfo/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc End of murder_at_christmas Digest, Vol 1, Issue 36 ************************************************** From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Mon Dec 27 18:43:51 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Mon Dec 27 18:43:49 2004 Subject: [MaC] Breaking the news References: <001101c4ec31$446f1620$96f1fea9@BriansPC> <5.1.0.14.0.20041227152829.0275ac50@pop.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <014f01c4ec6d$eb445190$0202a8c0@Behemoth> ----- Original Message ----- From: "Tara Kunkel" To: Sent: Monday, December 27, 2004 8:30 PM Subject: Re: [MaC] Breaking the news > >>>Cyril looked toward the Fitzroy flat with concern, then, >>>deciding that Florence would be all right for the time it >>>took to alert the authorities, nodded and said, "I'm not sure >>>what use I'll be, but yes, I'll come with you." >> >>"Fair enough, then. Let's be off." >> >>Philip headed downstairs, with the others (presumably) in tow. >> >>The hall was, as they ight expect, in complete darkness. However, when >>they opened the door of the flats there was a sudden shout. >> >>"Oi! Stay inside! Haven't you lot bin warned, eh?" >> >>It was another ARP warden on the nearest corner of the street. "We have, sir, thank you," Philip called back. "But there's been a...mishap in one of the flats. I'd prefer not to shout about it; can you come closer, or perhaps send someone along? I'm afraid we'll need the police." > > "We have indeed been warned," Braham called out. "But we have a bit of a > situation here and we wished to alert the authorities." He hoped that > would be enough to bring the man to them. He certainly did not want to > call out the details of the situation for all to hear. Faced with this double invocation, the Arp crossed the street tiwards them, moving carefully to avoid the rubble in the street. "Well?" he said. "What is it? Don't you realise there's a war on?" It was clear he thought them drunken revellers ripe for mischief. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Mon Dec 27 18:45:44 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Mon Dec 27 18:45:37 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body References: <20041227230300.1876.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com> <41D097E8.4000301@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <015301c4ec6e$2e9c7620$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> "I'm not sure... I think it's more likely to be from >> some kind of drug usage. She is -- was -- an actress, >> after all. One does hear about things like that on >> occasion." Tabitha bent down to take a closer look. > > Pamela let go a brief, mirthless laugh. "Aren't I the innocent?" she said. > "I daresay you're quite right. Have you turned up anything?" > >> Warren had shook his head, indicating he knew >> little, if anything, >> about the subject. He had limped to the piano, and >> was lifting >> the top of the instrument to look inside. > There was the tuning fork, placed to one side. There was also a small coil of piano wire - but the string that was wrapped around it to secure it suggested that it had not been disturbed - at least, not this particular wire. From faespinner at yahoo.com Mon Dec 27 18:51:38 2004 From: faespinner at yahoo.com (Tara Kunkel) Date: Mon Dec 27 18:51:59 2004 Subject: [MaC] Breaking the news In-Reply-To: <014f01c4ec6d$eb445190$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <001101c4ec31$446f1620$96f1fea9@BriansPC> <5.1.0.14.0.20041227152829.0275ac50@pop.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <5.1.0.14.0.20041227184935.02758d68@pop.mail.yahoo.com> > >Faced with this double invocation, the Arp crossed the street tiwards >them, moving carefully to avoid the rubble in the street. > >"Well?" he said. "What is it? Don't you realise there's a war on?" > >It was clear he thought them drunken revellers ripe for mischief. "Forgive us, sir," Braham replied summoning his most serious voice. "But a woman, actress Nola Diamond, has apparently been murdered. Her body was just found." He gave that a moment to sink in. "We thought it best to notify the authorities as soon as possible." From kris.kunkel at gmail.com Mon Dec 27 19:00:05 2004 From: kris.kunkel at gmail.com (Knave of Amber) Date: Mon Dec 27 19:00:07 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <41D07A3E.9000108@elfworks.com> References: <01a601c4ebd0$294e51a0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> <41CFD0A6.6080809@elfworks.com> <36e1ae03041227113619470ab2@mail.gmail.com> <004d01c4ec4c$b308e230$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <41D07A3E.9000108@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <3b089f7c04122716003dbc024a@mail.gmail.com> On Mon, 27 Dec 2004 13:10:22 -0800, Heather Mace wrote: > >>> > >> "That sounds like a shockingly sensible idea." James commented. He > >> rose, gave one more glance at Anton, and headed after Marjorie toward > >> the bar. > > > > > > "That poor woman," Arabella said quietly. "What a terrible thing..." She > > was proud of Pamela for keeping her head, and hoped that it would not > > become too difficult for her daughter. "And poor Mr. Barowenski..." > > Marjorie came around the bar and picked up the gin bottle. "She > was just here... I made her a gin and tonic, then another," she > said as she started to pour into a glass. "But Mr. Hodges came > back from fixing the lift and took away her drink and she stormed > off... And then there was the blackout..." She put down the > gin bottle and picked up the tonic. "Skeffers seems to have a dark cloud followiing him," Michael explains to the others. "He's been asked to investigate murders before. It's what he did before the war, you know." From kris.kunkel at gmail.com Mon Dec 27 19:12:03 2004 From: kris.kunkel at gmail.com (Knave of Amber) Date: Mon Dec 27 19:12:03 2004 Subject: [MaC] Speculation in the Lounge In-Reply-To: <013201c4ec6c$3b031f60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <014c01c4ec58$44a074a0$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> <20041227212021.75999.qmail@web20224.mail.yahoo.com> <6.2.0.14.0.20041227162753.042d5e50@mail.cac.net> <017001c4ec62$138e0080$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> <41D09141.60403@elfworks.com> <013201c4ec6c$3b031f60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <3b089f7c04122716124ee718cc@mail.gmail.com> > Then she moved towards the settee and the contents of her bag. > > Her husband took a step towards her. "Leave that!" he ordered. > > "Have we missed much?" said a voice from the service door. It was Oswald > Skeffington-Nottle, with Marion Mauberley by his side. "Nope, a fainting spell and some fuss over Mrs. Fitzroy's handbag, an innocent enough mistake," Michael offered. "You taking the lead again, old chap?" he asked with a wry smile. "I think Lucy's already pushed my name to the top of some list." Turning back to Mrs. Skeffinton-Nottle, the Group Commander winks. "Sandy was deep in her work last we spoke. Damn near buried." "So, how'd she buy it? Strangulation?" he asks. "Nasty bit of work if you ask me." From jjkatalenic at yahoo.com Mon Dec 27 19:24:20 2004 From: jjkatalenic at yahoo.com (Jonathan Katalenic) Date: Mon Dec 27 19:24:20 2004 Subject: [MaC] Speculation in the Lounge In-Reply-To: <41D09141.60403@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <20041228002420.48470.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com> "Ain't that a sight," Marjorie said from over by the bar, a half drunk glass of gin and tonic in her hand. Fitzroy's empty glass still stood on the top of the bar. "No sooner does the poor woman collapse than the rest of you are going through her bag," she said sarcastically. "Maybe Nola killed herself because someone robbed her." 'Or maybe it was because SOMEBODY can't deliver the damn mail to the right flats,' Nicola retorted in her head. __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Read only the mail you want - Yahoo! Mail SpamGuard. http://promotions.yahoo.com/new_mail From nowsounds at comcast.net Mon Dec 27 19:28:19 2004 From: nowsounds at comcast.net (Nowsounds) Date: Mon Dec 27 19:28:28 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge References: <01a601c4ebd0$294e51a0$96f1fea9@BriansPC><41CFD0A6.6080809@elfworks.com><36e1ae03041227113619470ab2@mail.gmail.com><004d01c4ec4c$b308e230$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><41D07A3E.9000108@elfworks.com> <3b089f7c04122716003dbc024a@mail.gmail.com> Message-ID: <004701c4ec74$224ab7a0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> >> >> Marjorie came around the bar and picked up the gin bottle. "She >> was just here... I made her a gin and tonic, then another," she >> said as she started to pour into a glass. "But Mr. Hodges came >> back from fixing the lift and took away her drink and she stormed >> off... And then there was the blackout..." She put down the >> gin bottle and picked up the tonic. > > "Lucy, this is the last time I holiday with you and Skeffers," Michael > > says, tossing back the brandy he poured himself after the news. "If I > > didn't know better, I'd think you two are cursed." > > > > He crosses to the dowager and looks at her hand. "Are you alright, Lady > > Gower?" > > Arabella looked down at her hand, a bit puzzled, and then said, "Oh, yes. > It's just paint, Captain. I'm afraid I brushed against that daub of mine > while getting Pamela's bag... If you have a handkerchief you can spare..." "Of course, Belle," Michael answers off-handedly. > "Skeffers seems to have a dark cloud followiing him," Michael explains > to the others. "He's been asked to investigate murders before. It's > what he did before the war, you know." "Thank you," Arabella said, a little distractedly, and took the proffered handkerchief, wiping her hand with it in a vigorous motion. "So, we have a... trained detective here? With experience in... murder?" She said the last word almost hesitantly, as if pulling back from its power. From jjkatalenic at yahoo.com Mon Dec 27 19:30:38 2004 From: jjkatalenic at yahoo.com (Jonathan Katalenic) Date: Mon Dec 27 19:30:44 2004 Subject: [MaC] Speculation in the Lounge In-Reply-To: <013201c4ec6c$3b031f60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <20041228003038.90643.qmail@web20227.mail.yahoo.com> As Richard waved the salts under her nose, Esme gave a moan and opened her eyes. "What ... what's happened?" she asked feebly. "Oh... my handbag! Give me my handbag!" She shot an apprehensive look at her husband, who was still waiting for Marjorie to pour him a drink. "You passed out," explained Richard. "We thought you might have some salts, that it might be a... condition with you." He eased her up. "You went a little senseless right before you went limp, actually. Talking nonsense." "What ... wha ... " Esme quavered. Then she moved towards the settee and the contents of her bag. Nicola, who was busy scooping the various and sundry items back into the bag, began apologizing: "I'm terribly sorry, Mrs. Fitzroy, it was my idea. I know it's the height of rudeness to go through someone's bag." Her husband took a step towards her. "Leave that!" he ordered. Nicola turned to look at Marty Fitzroy with a look of utter disdain and contempt. She fastened Esme's handbag and held it out to the woman. "Pay no attention to that wretched man, Mrs. Fitzroy. Here you are, darling, and again, I'm so very sorry." __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! Mail - Helps protect you from nasty viruses. http://promotions.yahoo.com/new_mail From nowsounds at comcast.net Mon Dec 27 19:31:56 2004 From: nowsounds at comcast.net (Nowsounds) Date: Mon Dec 27 19:32:04 2004 Subject: [MaC] Speculation in the Lounge References: <014c01c4ec58$44a074a0$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh><20041227212021.75999.qmail@web20224.mail.yahoo.com> <6.2.0.14.0.20041227162753.042d5e50@mail.cac.net><017001c4ec62$138e0080$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh><41D09141.60403@elfworks.com> <013201c4ec6c$3b031f60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <005c01c4ec74$a32d8f50$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> > "You passed out," explained Richard. "We thought you might have some > salts, > that it might be a... condition with you." He eased her up. "You went a > little senseless right before you went limp, actually. Talking nonsense." > > > "What ... wha ... " Esme quavered. > > Then she moved towards the settee and the contents of her bag. > > Her husband took a step towards her. "Leave that!" he ordered. Arabella stepped towards them. She had had rather enough of Marty Fitzroy bullying people, especially his wife. No wonder the woman was so nervous. "Really, Mr. Fitzroy," she said, in the voice of the Countess she had been for so many years, "that is hardly the tone to use after your wife has just swooned." Turning to Esme, she said, in a softer tone, "My dear, under the circumstances, it's a wonder more people aren't feeling faint." > "Have we missed much?" said a voice from the service door. It was Oswald > Skeffington-Nottle, with Marion Mauberley by his side. > > > > > > _______________________________________________ > murder_at_christmas mailing list > murder_at_christmas@gamera.cc > http://gamera.cc/mailman/listinfo/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Mon Dec 27 19:41:49 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Mon Dec 27 19:41:45 2004 Subject: [MaC] Speculation in the Lounge References: <20041228003038.90643.qmail@web20227.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <017b01c4ec76$04beb680$0202a8c0@Behemoth> > Then she moved towards the settee and the contents of > her bag. > > Nicola, who was busy scooping the various and sundry > items back into the bag, began apologizing: "I'm > terribly sorry, Mrs. Fitzroy, it was my idea. I know > it's the height of rudeness to go through someone's > bag." > > Her husband took a step towards her. "Leave that!" he > ordered. > > Nicola turned to look at Marty Fitzroy with a look of > utter disdain and contempt. She fastened Esme's > handbag and held it out to the woman. "Pay no > attention to that wretched man, Mrs. Fitzroy. Here you > are, darling, and again, I'm so very sorry." > Esme seized the bag and clutched it to her. Arabella stepped towards them. She had had rather enough of Marty Fitzroy bullying people, especially his wife. No wonder the woman was so nervous. "Really, Mr. Fitzroy," she said, in the voice of the Countess she had been for so many years, "that is hardly the tone to use after your wife has just swooned." Turning to Esme, she said, in a softer tone, "My dear, under the circumstances, it's a wonder more people aren't feeling faint." "I'll not be spoken to like that in my own 'ome!" roared Marty Fitzroy, and he took a step tiwards Arabella, her fist clenching. > "Have we missed much?" said a voice from the service door. It was Oswald > Skeffington-Nottle, with Marion Mauberley by his side. > From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Mon Dec 27 19:44:09 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Mon Dec 27 19:44:03 2004 Subject: [MaC] Breaking the news References: <001101c4ec31$446f1620$96f1fea9@BriansPC><5.1.0.14.0.20041227152829.0275ac50@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <5.1.0.14.0.20041227184935.02758d68@pop.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <017f01c4ec76$57dffe50$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >>Faced with this double invocation, the Arp crossed the street tiwards >>them, moving carefully to avoid the rubble in the street. >> >>"Well?" he said. "What is it? Don't you realise there's a war on?" >> >>It was clear he thought them drunken revellers ripe for mischief. > > "Forgive us, sir," Braham replied summoning his most serious voice. "But a > woman, actress Nola Diamond, has apparently been murdered. Her body was > just found." He gave that a moment to sink in. "We thought it best to > notify the authorities as soon as possible." The warden looked appalled. "A murder? But we can't do anything about that tonight! Who killed her? Have you apprehended him?" The warden seemed to assume a murderer must be male. From nowsounds at comcast.net Mon Dec 27 19:47:01 2004 From: nowsounds at comcast.net (Nowsounds) Date: Mon Dec 27 19:47:09 2004 Subject: [MaC] Speculation in the Lounge References: <20041228003038.90643.qmail@web20227.mail.yahoo.com> <017b01c4ec76$04beb680$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <00a001c4ec76$be88d0f0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> her. > > Arabella stepped towards them. She had had rather enough of Marty Fitzroy > bullying people, especially his wife. No wonder the woman was so nervous. > "Really, Mr. Fitzroy," she said, in the voice of the Countess she had been > for so many years, "that is hardly the tone to use after your wife has > just > swooned." Turning to Esme, she said, in a softer tone, "My dear, under the > circumstances, it's a wonder more people aren't feeling faint." > > "I'll not be spoken to like that in my own 'ome!" roared Marty Fitzroy, > and he took a step tiwards Arabella, her fist clenching. > >> "Have we missed much?" said a voice from the service door. It was Oswald >> Skeffington-Nottle, with Marion Mauberley by his side. "Only Mr. Fitzroy behaving boorishly," Arabella said, holding her ground. Although she was quite short, she planted her feet, in their sensible little flats, as if she was not only massive, but capable of taking on all comers. From jvstin at mindspring.com Mon Dec 27 19:47:29 2004 From: jvstin at mindspring.com (Jvstin(Mindspring)) Date: Mon Dec 27 19:47:36 2004 Subject: [MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge In-Reply-To: <004701c4ec74$224ab7a0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> References: <01a601c4ebd0$294e51a0$96f1fea9@BriansPC><41CFD0A6.6080809@elfworks.com><36e1ae03041227113619470ab2@mail.gmail.com><004d01c4ec4c$b308e230$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><41D07A3E.9000108@elfworks.com> <3b089f7c04122716003dbc024a@mail.gmail.com> <004701c4ec74$224ab7a0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> Message-ID: <41D0AD21.7080308@mindspring.com> on 12/27/2004 6:28 PM Nowsounds said the following: >>> >>> Marjorie came around the bar and picked up the gin bottle. "She >>> was just here... I made her a gin and tonic, then another," she >>> said as she started to pour into a glass. "But Mr. Hodges came >>> back from fixing the lift and took away her drink and she stormed >>> off... And then there was the blackout..." She put down the >>> gin bottle and picked up the tonic. >> >> > > "Lucy, this is the last time I holiday with you and Skeffers," Michael > >> > says, tossing back the brandy he poured himself after the news. "If I >> > didn't know better, I'd think you two are cursed." >> > >> > He crosses to the dowager and looks at her hand. "Are you alright, Lady >> > Gower?" >> >> Arabella looked down at her hand, a bit puzzled, and then said, "Oh, yes. >> It's just paint, Captain. I'm afraid I brushed against that daub of mine >> while getting Pamela's bag... If you have a handkerchief you can >> spare..." > > > "Of course, Belle," Michael answers off-handedly. > >> "Skeffers seems to have a dark cloud followiing him," Michael explains >> to the others. "He's been asked to investigate murders before. It's >> what he did before the war, you know." > > > "Thank you," Arabella said, a little distractedly, and took the > proffered handkerchief, wiping her hand with it in a vigorous motion. > "So, we have a... trained detective here? With experience in... murder?" > She said the last word almost hesitantly, as if pulling back from its > power. > James waited patiently for Marjorie to finish preparing her drink before taking up the gin and tonic in turn. He looked to Arabella. "There are those of us here with military experience." James said. "But besides Oswald, does any of us here have constabulary?" he asked, looking about. {Tag the Room} From rmpruehs at cac.net Mon Dec 27 20:03:28 2004 From: rmpruehs at cac.net (Ree Moorhead Pruehs) Date: Mon Dec 27 20:03:53 2004 Subject: [MaC] Speculation in the Lounge In-Reply-To: <017b01c4ec76$04beb680$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041228003038.90643.qmail@web20227.mail.yahoo.com> <017b01c4ec76$04beb680$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <6.2.0.14.0.20041227200011.044b3e48@mail.cac.net> At 07:41 PM 12/27/2004, you wrote: >>Then she moved towards the settee and the contents of >>her bag. >> >>Nicola, who was busy scooping the various and sundry >>items back into the bag, began apologizing: "I'm >>terribly sorry, Mrs. Fitzroy, it was my idea. I know >>it's the height of rudeness to go through someone's >>bag." >> >>Her husband took a step towards her. "Leave that!" he >>ordered. >> >>Nicola turned to look at Marty Fitzroy with a look of >>utter disdain and contempt. She fastened Esme's >>handbag and held it out to the woman. "Pay no >>attention to that wretched man, Mrs. Fitzroy. Here you >>are, darling, and again, I'm so very sorry." > >Esme seized the bag and clutched it to her. > >Arabella stepped towards them. She had had rather enough of Marty Fitzroy >bullying people, especially his wife. No wonder the woman was so nervous. >"Really, Mr. Fitzroy," she said, in the voice of the Countess she had been >for so many years, "that is hardly the tone to use after your wife has just >swooned." Turning to Esme, she said, in a softer tone, "My dear, under the >circumstances, it's a wonder more people aren't feeling faint." >"I'll not be spoken to like that in my own 'ome!" roared Marty Fitzroy, >and he took a step tiwards Arabella, her fist clenching. "Is there somewhere else you'd =prefer= to be spoken to in such a manner?" Vangie inquired, her voice frosty. >>"Have we missed much?" said a voice from the service door. It was Oswald >>Skeffington-Nottle, with Marion Mauberley by his side. From hmace at elfworks.com Mon Dec 27 20:11:01 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Mon Dec 27 20:10:58 2004 Subject: [MaC] Speculation in the Lounge In-Reply-To: <6.2.0.14.0.20041227200011.044b3e48@mail.cac.net> References: <20041228003038.90643.qmail@web20227.mail.yahoo.com> <017b01c4ec76$04beb680$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <6.2.0.14.0.20041227200011.044b3e48@mail.cac.net> Message-ID: <41D0B2A5.20707@elfworks.com> >> >> Esme seized the bag and clutched it to her. >> >> Arabella stepped towards them. She had had rather enough of Marty Fitzroy >> bullying people, especially his wife. No wonder the woman was so nervous. >> "Really, Mr. Fitzroy," she said, in the voice of the Countess she had >> been >> for so many years, "that is hardly the tone to use after your wife has >> just >> swooned." Turning to Esme, she said, in a softer tone, "My dear, under >> the >> circumstances, it's a wonder more people aren't feeling faint." > > >> "I'll not be spoken to like that in my own 'ome!" roared Marty >> Fitzroy, and he took a step tiwards Arabella, her fist clenching. > > > "Is there somewhere else you'd =prefer= to be spoken to in such a > manner?" Vangie inquired, her voice frosty. > >>> "Have we missed much?" said a voice from the service door. It was >>> Oswald >>> Skeffington-Nottle, with Marion Mauberley by his side. Marjorie casually poured a drink for Fitzroy after James was done with the gin bottle. "Oh relax, Mr. Fitzroy... here." She put the drink on the counter. "Then again, the last time I offered someone a drink to cool down they were killed..." She started to giggle at the macabre joke of the situation. From hmace at elfworks.com Mon Dec 27 20:15:28 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Mon Dec 27 20:15:24 2004 Subject: [MaC] Speculation in the Lounge In-Reply-To: <20041228002420.48470.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com> References: <20041228002420.48470.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <41D0B3B0.1070209@elfworks.com> > "Ain't that a sight," Marjorie said from over by the > bar, a half drunk glass of gin and tonic in her hand. > Fitzroy's empty glass still stood on the top of the > bar. "No sooner does the poor woman collapse than the > rest of you are going through her bag," she said > sarcastically. "Maybe Nola killed herself because > someone robbed her." > > 'Or maybe it was because SOMEBODY can't deliver the > damn mail to the right flats,' Nicola retorted in her head. Marjorie snorted. "If you ain't getting your mail right, it ain't my fault," she responded, obviously a little tipsy from her drink. From hmace at elfworks.com Mon Dec 27 20:16:33 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Mon Dec 27 20:16:33 2004 Subject: [MaC] Speculation in the Lounge In-Reply-To: <41D0B3B0.1070209@elfworks.com> References: <20041228002420.48470.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com> <41D0B3B0.1070209@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <41D0B3F1.3010302@elfworks.com> Heather Mace wrote: > >> "Ain't that a sight," Marjorie said from over by the >> bar, a half drunk glass of gin and tonic in her hand. Fitzroy's empty >> glass still stood on the top of the >> bar. "No sooner does the poor woman collapse than the >> rest of you are going through her bag," she said >> sarcastically. "Maybe Nola killed herself because >> someone robbed her." >> >> 'Or maybe it was because SOMEBODY can't deliver the >> damn mail to the right flats,' Nicola retorted in her head. > > > Marjorie snorted. "If you ain't getting your mail right, > it ain't my fault," she responded, obviously a little tipsy > from her drink. > [heh... retract that... didn't realize it was a mental thing with nothing to actually respond to.] From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Mon Dec 27 20:24:33 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Mon Dec 27 20:24:36 2004 Subject: [MaC] Breaking the news In-Reply-To: <017f01c4ec76$57dffe50$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <001901c4ec7b$fce0a5d0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> > The warden looked appalled. > > "A murder? But we can't do anything about that tonight! Who > killed her? Have you apprehended him?" "We don't know, and no, respectively," Philip said, somewhat frostily, as he stepped forward. "I'm sure we'll do our best to sort it out, but we thought it best that someone in authority be informed. If you'll be so kind as to inform the police, we'll do our best to have the culprit in handcuffs by the time they get 'round to us." With that, he turned around to head back into the block of flats...an exit which was somewhat spoiled as he slipped on a chunk of rubble and nearly fell through the door, only catching himself on the doorframe by his wounded hand. He grunted with pain, but pulled himself upright and attempted to regain his dignity. From faespinner at yahoo.com Mon Dec 27 21:04:52 2004 From: faespinner at yahoo.com (Tara Kunkel) Date: Mon Dec 27 21:05:10 2004 Subject: [MaC] Breaking the news In-Reply-To: <001901c4ec7b$fce0a5d0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> References: <017f01c4ec76$57dffe50$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <5.1.0.14.0.20041227205931.030dc478@pop.mail.yahoo.com> At 08:24 PM 12/27/2004, you wrote: > > The warden looked appalled. > > > > "A murder? But we can't do anything about that tonight! Who > > killed her? Have you apprehended him?" > >"We don't know, and no, respectively," Philip said, somewhat frostily, as he >stepped forward. "I'm sure we'll do our best to sort it out, but we thought >it best that someone in authority be informed. If you'll be so kind as to >inform the police, we'll do our best to have the culprit in handcuffs by the >time they get 'round to us." > >With that, he turned around to head back into the block of flats...an exit >which was somewhat spoiled as he slipped on a chunk of rubble and nearly >fell through the door, only catching himself on the doorframe by his wounded >hand. He grunted with pain, but pulled himself upright and attempted to >regain his dignity. Braham watched him retreat then turned back to the warden. "Understand that we have a murderer in that building and no idea who he *or she* is. Tensions are a bit high. This situation could easily get out of hand. I realize the situation on the street is also rather delicate and this may indeed be secondary among your priorities, but if you could please inform the police we would be most grateful." He was doing his best to remain diplomatic. There was no point in allowing tempers to flare. The situation was not the fault of the warden. The man was really only doing his job as best he could. Before turning to accompany the officer back upstairs, Braham offered a slight bow of his head and a soft spoken "thank you". From margdean56 at operamail.com Mon Dec 27 21:47:01 2004 From: margdean56 at operamail.com (Margaret Dean) Date: Mon Dec 27 21:47:03 2004 Subject: [MaC] Speculation in the Lounge Message-ID: <20041228024701.904DB3982EF@ws5-1.us4.outblaze.com> ----- Original Message ----- From: "Heather Mace" To: murder_at_christmas@gamera.cc Subject: Re: [MaC] Speculation in the Lounge Date: Mon, 27 Dec 2004 17:11:01 -0800 > > >> > >> Esme seized the bag and clutched it to her. > >> > >> Arabella stepped towards them. She had had rather enough of Marty Fitzroy > >> bullying people, especially his wife. No wonder the woman was so nervous. > >> "Really, Mr. Fitzroy," she said, in the voice of the Countess she had been > >> for so many years, "that is hardly the tone to use after your wife has just > >> swooned." Turning to Esme, she said, in a softer tone, "My dear, under the > >> circumstances, it's a wonder more people aren't feeling faint." > > > > > >> "I'll not be spoken to like that in my own 'ome!" roared Marty > >> Fitzroy, and he took a step tiwards Arabella, her fist clenching. > > > > > > "Is there somewhere else you'd =prefer= to be spoken to in such a > > manner?" Vangie inquired, her voice frosty. > > > >>> "Have we missed much?" said a voice from the service door. It was Oswald > >>> Skeffington-Nottle, with Marion Mauberley by his side. Marion was still looking pale and tense, but in command of herself. Her glance, however, went immediately to Anton Barowenski. > Marjorie casually poured a drink for Fitzroy after James was done with > the gin bottle. "Oh relax, Mr. Fitzroy... here." She put the drink > on the counter. > > "Then again, the last time I offered someone a drink to cool down > they were killed..." She started to giggle at the macabre joke of > the situation. --Margaret Dean -- _____________________________________________________________ Web-based SMS services available at http://www.operamail.com. From your mailbox to local or overseas cell phones. Powered by Outblaze From Mrfury28 at aol.com Mon Dec 27 21:57:30 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Mon Dec 27 21:57:38 2004 Subject: [MaC] Speculation in the Lounge Message-ID: <14.3b7ec716.2f02259a@aol.com> "I quite agree, Ms Higgins." Hodges stated quietly to the mailwoman. "Bad form." -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041227/71171ebb/attachment.htm From Mrfury28 at aol.com Mon Dec 27 22:05:17 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Mon Dec 27 22:05:22 2004 Subject: [MaC] Speculation in the Lounge Message-ID: <74.49ef951d.2f02276d@aol.com> "I'll not be spoken to like that in my own 'ome!" roared Marty Fitzroy, and he took a step towards Arabella, her fist clenching. "Now Mr. Fitzroy, I'll not have this behavior in this building." Hodges moved to step between the feisty dowager and the boor. The old man was still spry enough to make trouble for a brutsih thug that threatened a lady of quality! -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041227/2bd882ef/attachment.htm From jvstin at mindspring.com Mon Dec 27 22:38:51 2004 From: jvstin at mindspring.com (Jvstin(Mindspring)) Date: Mon Dec 27 22:39:00 2004 Subject: [MaC] Speculation in the Lounge In-Reply-To: <74.49ef951d.2f02276d@aol.com> References: <74.49ef951d.2f02276d@aol.com> Message-ID: <41D0D54B.6020500@mindspring.com> on 12/27/2004 9:05 PM Mrfury28@aol.com said the following: > "I'll not be spoken to like that in my own 'ome!" roared Marty Fitzroy, and > he took a step towards Arabella, her fist clenching. > > "Now Mr. Fitzroy, I'll not have this behavior in this building." Hodges > moved to step between the feisty dowager and the boor. The old man was still spry > enough to make trouble for a brutsih thug that threatened a lady of quality! > James couldn't let the elderly man take the brunt of the brutism of Marty. "Marty." James said. "Hosting the party or not, there is no reason to be rude. Especially to the fairer gender, and especially given what's happened. Sit down." He looked at Marty intently. From windeaglebjm at yahoo.com Mon Dec 27 22:48:37 2004 From: windeaglebjm at yahoo.com (Brenda McCartney) Date: Mon Dec 27 22:48:42 2004 Subject: [MaC] Breaking the news In-Reply-To: <5.1.0.14.0.20041227205931.030dc478@pop.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <20041228034837.28202.qmail@web50706.mail.yahoo.com> --- Tara Kunkel wrote: > At 08:24 PM 12/27/2004, you wrote: > > > The warden looked appalled. > > > > > > "A murder? But we can't do anything about that tonight! Who > > > killed her? Have you apprehended him?" > > > >"We don't know, and no, respectively," Philip said, somewhat > frostily, as he > >stepped forward. "I'm sure we'll do our best to sort it out, but we > thought > >it best that someone in authority be informed. If you'll be so kind > as to > >inform the police, we'll do our best to have the culprit in > handcuffs by the > >time they get 'round to us." > > > >With that, he turned around to head back into the block of > flats...an exit > >which was somewhat spoiled as he slipped on a chunk of rubble and > nearly > >fell through the door, only catching himself on the doorframe by his > wounded > >hand. He grunted with pain, but pulled himself upright and attempted > to > >regain his dignity. Cyril, who had remained in the doorway, reached out reflexively as Phillip stumbled, but withdrew and stepped out of the officer's way as he recovered. He held the door for him and murmurred, "You've done what you can, lad," as Phillip re-entered the building. > > Braham watched him retreat then turned back to the warden. > "Understand that > we have a murderer in that building and no idea who he *or she* is. > Tensions are a bit high. This situation could easily get out of hand. > I > realize the situation on the street is also rather delicate and this > may > indeed be secondary among your priorities, but if you could please > inform > the police we would be most grateful." He was doing his best to > remain > diplomatic. There was no point in allowing tempers to flare. The > situation > was not the fault of the warden. The man was really only doing his > job as > best he could. > > Before turning to accompany the officer back upstairs, Braham offered > a > slight bow of his head and a soft spoken "thank you". Cyril followed the two men back upstairs. __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around http://mail.yahoo.com From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Mon Dec 27 23:52:53 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Mon Dec 27 23:52:52 2004 Subject: [MaC] Breaking the news In-Reply-To: <20041228034837.28202.qmail@web50706.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <002601c4ec99$1740f160$96f1fea9@BriansPC> > Cyril, who had remained in the doorway, reached out > reflexively as Phillip stumbled, but withdrew and stepped out > of the officer's way as he recovered. He held the door for > him and murmurred, "You've done what you can, lad," as > Phillip re-entered the building. > >> Braham watched him retreat then turned back to the warden. >> "Understand that we have a murderer in that building and no >> idea who he *or she* is. Tensions are a bit high. This >> situation could easily get out of hand. I realize the >> situation on the street is also rather delicate and this may >> indeed be secondary among your priorities, but if you could please >> inform the police we would be most grateful." He was doing his >> best to remain diplomatic. There was no point in allowing tempers >> to flare. The situation was not the fault of the warden. The man >> was really only doing his job as best he could. >> >> Before turning to accompany the officer back upstairs, Braham offered >> a slight bow of his head and a soft spoken "thank you". "I'm sorry if I came off rather cross," Philip said, as he inspected his right hand; it looked like some of the old burn scars had broken open from the impact with the doorframe. "It just seemed as though he was implying that the whole mess was not only our responsibility, but our fault. But I suppose we all have to make do as best we can." From windeaglebjm at yahoo.com Tue Dec 28 06:52:43 2004 From: windeaglebjm at yahoo.com (Brenda McCartney) Date: Tue Dec 28 06:52:49 2004 Subject: [MaC] Breaking the news In-Reply-To: <002601c4ec99$1740f160$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Message-ID: <20041228115243.69861.qmail@web50709.mail.yahoo.com> --- Brian Schoner wrote: > > Cyril, who had remained in the doorway, reached out > > reflexively as Phillip stumbled, but withdrew and stepped out > > of the officer's way as he recovered. He held the door for > > him and murmurred, "You've done what you can, lad," as > > Phillip re-entered the building. > > > >> Braham watched him retreat then turned back to the warden. > >> "Understand that we have a murderer in that building and no > >> idea who he *or she* is. Tensions are a bit high. This > >> situation could easily get out of hand. I realize the > >> situation on the street is also rather delicate and this may > >> indeed be secondary among your priorities, but if you could please > >> inform the police we would be most grateful." He was doing his > >> best to remain diplomatic. There was no point in allowing tempers > >> to flare. The situation was not the fault of the warden. The man > >> was really only doing his job as best he could. > >> > >> Before turning to accompany the officer back upstairs, Braham > offered > >> a slight bow of his head and a soft spoken "thank you". > > "I'm sorry if I came off rather cross," Philip said, as he inspected > his > right hand; it looked like some of the old burn scars had broken open > from > the impact with the doorframe. "It just seemed as though he was > implying > that the whole mess was not only our responsibility, but our fault. > But I > suppose we all have to make do as best we can." Cyril noticed the condition of Phillip's hand over his shoulder. "That's a nasty wound. I think we have some gauze in our flat. Do you want to take care of that before we go back to the party?" he offered. > > > > _______________________________________________ > murder_at_christmas mailing list > murder_at_christmas@gamera.cc > http://gamera.cc/mailman/listinfo/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc > __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? All your favorites on one personal page – Try My Yahoo! http://my.yahoo.com From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Tue Dec 28 07:32:16 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Tue Dec 28 07:32:47 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body References: <20041227230300.1876.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com><41D097E8.4000301@textartisan.com> <015301c4ec6e$2e9c7620$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <009a01c4ecd9$44507b40$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >>> "I'm not sure... I think it's more likely to be from >>> some kind of drug usage. She is -- was -- an actress, >>> after all. One does hear about things like that on >>> occasion." Tabitha bent down to take a closer look. >> >> Pamela let go a brief, mirthless laugh. "Aren't I the innocent?" she >> said. "I daresay you're quite right. Have you turned up anything?" >> >>> Warren had shook his head, indicating he knew >>> little, if anything, >>> about the subject. He had limped to the piano, and >>> was lifting >>> the top of the instrument to look inside. >> > > There was the tuning fork, placed to one side. There was also a small > coil of piano wire - but the string that was wrapped around it to secure > it suggested that it had not been disturbed - at least, not this > particular wire. > Lucinda reported the findings. "Are there any needle marks on her arms?" she asked. There were, both Pamela and Tabitha could see - but none showed signs of being infected. "Perhaps we should look in her handbag," suggested Lucinda. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Tue Dec 28 08:03:19 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Tue Dec 28 08:03:32 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge Message-ID: <00a401c4ecdd$9aa57a00$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Nicola, who was busy scooping the various and sundry items back into the bag, began apologizing: "I'm terribly sorry, Mrs. Fitzroy, it was my idea. I know it's the height of rudeness to go through someone's bag." Her husband took a step towards her. "Leave that!" he ordered. Nicola turned to look at Marty Fitzroy with a look of utter disdain and contempt. She fastened Esme's handbag and held it out to the woman. "Pay no attention to that wretched man, Mrs. Fitzroy. Here you are, darling, and again, I'm so very sorry." Esme seized the bag and clutched it to her. Arabella stepped towards them. She had had rather enough of Marty Fitzroy bullying people, especially his wife. No wonder the woman was so nervous. "Really, Mr. Fitzroy," she said, in the voice of the Countess she had been for so many years, "that is hardly the tone to use after your wife has just swooned." Turning to Esme, she said, in a softer tone, "My dear, under the circumstances, it's a wonder more people aren't feeling faint." "I'll not be spoken to like that in my own 'ome!" roared Marty Fitzroy, and he took a step towards Arabella, his fist clenching. "Is there somewhere else you'd =prefer= to be spoken to in such a manner?" Vangie inquired, her voice frosty. "Now Mr. Fitzroy, I'll not have this behaviour in this building." Hodges moved to step between the feisty dowager and the boor. The old man was still spry enough to make trouble for a brutish thug that threatened a lady of quality! James couldn't let the elderly man take the brunt of the brutism of Marty. "Marty." James said. "Hosting the party or not, there is no reason to be rude. Especially to the fairer gender, and especially given what's happened. Sit down." He looked at Marty intently. "Have we missed much?" said a voice from the service door. It was Oswald Skeffington-Nottle, with Marion Mauberley by his side. Marion was still looking pale and tense, but in command of herself. Her glance, however, went immediately to Anton Barowenski. He was still sitting on the sofa, once hand to his head, looking pale and shaken. "Nope, a fainting spell and some fuss over Mrs. Fitzroy's handbag, an innocent enough mistake," Michael offered. "You taking the lead again, old chap?" he asked with a wry smile. "I think Lucy's already pushed my name to the top of some list." Oswald shot him a swift look. "Miss Mauberley is an old friend too," he said. "In somewhat less ... ah ... ambiguous circumstances. How is Sandra these days?" "Only Mr. Fitzroy behaving boorishly," Arabella said, holding her ground. Although she was quite short, she planted her feet, in their sensible little flats, as if she was not only massive, but capable of taking on all comers. Marty glowered at her, but turned back to the bar. "I've 'ad a shock," he muttered. Perhaps he intended that to act as an apology. "I was very fond of Nola, I was." Esme, seated on the sofa, gave a high-pitched giggle and clutched tighter at her bag. "Shock," Oswald mouthed at Marion. Marjorie casually poured a drink for Fitzroy after James was done with the gin bottle. "Oh relax, Mr. Fitzroy... here." She put the drink on the counter. "Then again, the last time I offered someone a drink to cool down they were killed..." She started to giggle at the macabre joke of the situation. "Drink," Oswald mouthed again. Aloud he said, "Now, Miss Mauberley and I were planning on asking Mr Barowenski a few questions. Perhaps ... is there anyone here who speaks Polish? It might assist Mr Barowenski." He glanced around the room. "And perhaps we need to deal with those people who are quite rightly very upset ... Should we adjourn somewhere else? Several somewhere elses, if necessary." From rpruehs at Itctransco.com Tue Dec 28 08:22:45 2004 From: rpruehs at Itctransco.com (Pruehs, Ree M.) Date: Tue Dec 28 08:22:27 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge Message-ID: > Nicola, who was busy scooping the various and sundry items > back into the > bag, began apologizing: "I'm terribly sorry, Mrs. Fitzroy, it > was my idea. I > know it's the height of rudeness to go through someone's bag." > > Her husband took a step towards her. "Leave that!" he ordered. > > Nicola turned to look at Marty Fitzroy with a look of utter > disdain and > contempt. She fastened Esme's handbag and held it out to the > woman. "Pay no > attention to that wretched man, Mrs. Fitzroy. Here you are, > darling, and > again, I'm so very sorry." > > Esme seized the bag and clutched it to her. > > Arabella stepped towards them. She had had rather enough of > Marty Fitzroy > bullying people, especially his wife. No wonder the woman was > so nervous. > "Really, Mr. Fitzroy," she said, in the voice of the Countess > she had been > for so many years, "that is hardly the tone to use after your > wife has just > swooned." Turning to Esme, she said, in a softer tone, "My > dear, under the > circumstances, it's a wonder more people aren't feeling faint." > > "I'll not be spoken to like that in my own 'ome!" roared > Marty Fitzroy, and > he took a step towards Arabella, his fist clenching. > > "Is there somewhere else you'd =prefer= to be spoken to in > such a manner?" > Vangie inquired, her voice frosty. > > "Now Mr. Fitzroy, I'll not have this behaviour in this > building." Hodges > moved to step between the feisty dowager and the boor. The > old man was still > spry enough to make trouble for a brutish thug that > threatened a lady of > quality! > > James couldn't let the elderly man take the brunt of the > brutism of Marty. > > "Marty." James said. "Hosting the party or not, there is no > reason to be > rude. Especially to the fairer gender, and especially given > what's happened. > Sit down." > > He looked at Marty intently. > > "Have we missed much?" said a voice from the service door. It > was Oswald > Skeffington-Nottle, with Marion Mauberley by his side. > > Marion was still looking pale and tense, but in command of > herself. Her > glance, however, went immediately to Anton Barowenski. > > He was still sitting on the sofa, once hand to his head, > looking pale and > shaken. > > "Nope, a fainting spell and some fuss over Mrs. Fitzroy's handbag, an > innocent enough mistake," Michael offered. > > "You taking the lead again, old chap?" he asked with a wry > smile. "I think > Lucy's already pushed my name to the top of some list." > > Oswald shot him a swift look. "Miss Mauberley is an old > friend too," he > said. "In somewhat less ... ah ... ambiguous circumstances. > How is Sandra > these days?" > > "Only Mr. Fitzroy behaving boorishly," Arabella said, holding > her ground. > Although she was quite short, she planted her feet, in their > sensible little > flats, as if she was not only massive, but capable of taking > on all comers. Vangie, though not a large woman by any means, snorted in agreement and took a firmer grasp on her clutch purse. > Marty glowered at her, but turned back to the bar. "I've 'ad > a shock," he > muttered. Perhaps he intended that to act as an apology. "I > was very fond > of Nola, I was." > > Esme, seated on the sofa, gave a high-pitched giggle and > clutched tighter at > her bag. > > "Shock," Oswald mouthed at Marion. > > Marjorie casually poured a drink for Fitzroy after James was > done with the > gin bottle. "Oh relax, Mr. Fitzroy... here." She put the drink on the > counter. > > "Then again, the last time I offered someone a drink to cool > down they were > killed..." She started to giggle at the macabre joke of the situation. > > "Drink," Oswald mouthed again. > > Aloud he said, "Now, Miss Mauberley and I were planning on asking Mr > Barowenski a few questions. Perhaps ... is there anyone here > who speaks > Polish? It might assist Mr Barowenski." > > He glanced around the room. "And perhaps we need to deal > with those people > who are quite rightly very upset ... Should we adjourn > somewhere else? > Several somewhere elses, if necessary." "I think that would be a very good idea," Vangie said. "May I offer my flat as one of those somewhere elses? It's only one floor down." From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Tue Dec 28 08:57:26 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Tue Dec 28 08:57:29 2004 Subject: [MaC] Breaking the news In-Reply-To: <20041228115243.69861.qmail@web50709.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <003001c4ece5$2cc8f590$96f1fea9@BriansPC> > Cyril noticed the condition of Phillip's hand over his shoulder. > "That's a nasty wound. I think we have some gauze in our > flat. Do you want to take care of that before we go back to > the party?" he offered. Philip laughed wryly. "It's not nearly as bad as it has been, I can tell you that. Still, it'd be best not to bleed on anything, particularly given the circumstances. I've some bandages in my room as well; no sense in using up yours due to my own clumsiness. I'll just pop in and take care of it, then meet you back at the Fitroys'. Thanks for the offer, though." From dorothea at textartisan.com Tue Dec 28 09:23:15 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Tue Dec 28 09:25:26 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body In-Reply-To: <009a01c4ecd9$44507b40$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041227230300.1876.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com><41D097E8.4000301@textartisan.com> <015301c4ec6e$2e9c7620$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <009a01c4ecd9$44507b40$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41D16C53.7010405@textartisan.com> > Lucinda reported the findings. "The fork isn't scratched at all, is it?" Pamela asked, looking up from her work. "I was only thinking... the murderer, to keep from tearing up his hands on whatever he used... could have wrapped the ends 'round a tuning fork and turned it... a sort of makeshift garrote, I suppose. But it would take awful presence of mind to do such a thing. I daresay I'm quite wrong." From her tone, she certainly hoped so. > "Are there any needle marks on her arms?" she asked. > > There were, both Pamela and Tabitha could see - but none showed signs of > being infected. > > "Perhaps we should look in her handbag," suggested Lucinda. "Perhaps you'd do that? If you don't mind," said Pamela. "We'd make something of a mess. Now, I wonder... marking her arms, it can't have been good for her career... I heard some wretched stories from one young man..." Carefully, Pamela pulled at the lashes of Nola's left eye, upper and lower, to examine the skin beneath for lesions. From margdean56 at operamail.com Tue Dec 28 10:38:45 2004 From: margdean56 at operamail.com (Margaret Dean) Date: Tue Dec 28 10:38:50 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge Message-ID: <20041228153845.9D6C53982EF@ws5-1.us4.outblaze.com> > > Nicola, who was busy scooping the various and sundry > > items back into the bag, began apologizing: "I'm > > terribly sorry, Mrs. Fitzroy, it was my idea. I know > > it's the height of rudeness to go through someone's > > bag." > > > > Her husband took a step towards her. "Leave that!" he > > ordered. > > > > Nicola turned to look at Marty Fitzroy with a look of > > utter disdain and contempt. She fastened Esme's handbag > > and held it out to the woman. "Pay no attention to that > > wretched man, Mrs. Fitzroy. Here you are, darling, and > > again, I'm so very sorry." > > > > Esme seized the bag and clutched it to her. > > > > Arabella stepped towards them. She had had rather > > enough of Marty Fitzroy bullying people, especially his > > wife. No wonder the woman was so nervous. "Really, Mr. > > Fitzroy," she said, in the voice of the Countess she > > had been for so many years, "that is hardly the tone to > > use after your wife has just swooned." Turning to Esme, > > she said, in a softer tone, "My dear, under the > > circumstances, it's a wonder more people aren't feeling > > faint." > > > > "I'll not be spoken to like that in my own 'ome!" > > roared Marty Fitzroy, and he took a step towards > > Arabella, his fist clenching. > > > > "Is there somewhere else you'd =prefer= to be spoken to > > in such a manner?" Vangie inquired, her voice frosty. > > > > "Now Mr. Fitzroy, I'll not have this behaviour in this > > building." Hodges moved to step between the feisty > > dowager and the boor. The old man was still spry enough > > to make trouble for a brutish thug that threatened a > > lady of quality! > > > > James couldn't let the elderly man take the brunt of > > the brutism of Marty. > > > > "Marty." James said. "Hosting the party or not, there > > is no reason to be rude. Especially to the fairer > > gender, and especially given what's happened. Sit down." > > > > He looked at Marty intently. > > > > "Have we missed much?" said a voice from the service > > door. It was Oswald Skeffington-Nottle, with Marion > > Mauberley by his side. > > > > Marion was still looking pale and tense, but in command > > of herself. Her glance, however, went immediately to > > Anton Barowenski. > > > > He was still sitting on the sofa, one hand to his head, > > looking pale and shaken. > > > > "Nope, a fainting spell and some fuss over Mrs. > > Fitzroy's handbag, an innocent enough mistake," Michael > > offered. > > > > "You taking the lead again, old chap?" he asked with a > > wry smile. "I think Lucy's already pushed my name to > > the top of some list." > > > > Oswald shot him a swift look. "Miss Mauberley is an > > old friend too," he said. "In somewhat less ... ah ... > > ambiguous circumstances. How is Sandra these days?" Marion gave him a curious look. > > "Only Mr. Fitzroy behaving boorishly," Arabella said, > > holding her ground. Although she was quite short, she > > planted her feet, in > > their sensible little flats, as if she was not only massive, but > > capable of taking on all comers. > > Vangie, though not a large woman by any means, snorted in agreement and > took a firmer grasp on her clutch purse. > > > Marty glowered at her, but turned back to the bar. "I've 'ad a > > shock," he muttered. Perhaps he intended that to act as an > > apology. "I was very fond of Nola, I was." > > > > Esme, seated on the sofa, gave a high-pitched giggle and clutched > > tighter at her bag. > > > > "Shock," Oswald mouthed at Marion. Marion raised an eyebrow, but made no other response. > > Marjorie casually poured a drink for Fitzroy after James was done > > with the gin bottle. "Oh relax, Mr. Fitzroy... here." She put the > > drink on the counter. > > > > "Then again, the last time I offered someone a drink to cool down > > they were killed..." She started to giggle at the macabre joke of > > the situation. > > > > "Drink," Oswald mouthed again. > > > > Aloud he said, "Now, Miss Mauberley and I were planning on asking > > Mr Barowenski a few questions. Perhaps ... is there anyone here > > who speaks Polish? It might assist Mr Barowenski." > > > > He glanced around the room. "And perhaps we need to deal with > > those people who are quite rightly very upset ... Should we > > adjourn somewhere else? Several somewhere elses, if necessary." > > "I think that would be a very good idea," Vangie said. "May I offer my > flat as one of those somewhere elses? It's only one floor down." "I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Vangie," said Marion, then added diplomatically, "It might upset Sweetie to have strangers in the flat." --Margaret Dean -- _____________________________________________________________ Web-based SMS services available at http://www.operamail.com. From your mailbox to local or overseas cell phones. Powered by Outblaze From rpruehs at Itctransco.com Tue Dec 28 10:42:01 2004 From: rpruehs at Itctransco.com (Pruehs, Ree M.) Date: Tue Dec 28 10:41:46 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge Message-ID: > > > Nicola, who was busy scooping the various and sundry > > > items back into the bag, began apologizing: "I'm > > > terribly sorry, Mrs. Fitzroy, it was my idea. I know > > > it's the height of rudeness to go through someone's > > > bag." > > > > > > Her husband took a step towards her. "Leave that!" he > > > ordered. > > > > > > Nicola turned to look at Marty Fitzroy with a look of > > > utter disdain and contempt. She fastened Esme's handbag > > > and held it out to the woman. "Pay no attention to that > > > wretched man, Mrs. Fitzroy. Here you are, darling, and > > > again, I'm so very sorry." > > > > > > Esme seized the bag and clutched it to her. > > > > > > Arabella stepped towards them. She had had rather > > > enough of Marty Fitzroy bullying people, especially his > > > wife. No wonder the woman was so nervous. "Really, Mr. > > > Fitzroy," she said, in the voice of the Countess she > > > had been for so many years, "that is hardly the tone to > > > use after your wife has just swooned." Turning to Esme, > > > she said, in a softer tone, "My dear, under the > > > circumstances, it's a wonder more people aren't feeling > > > faint." > > > > > > "I'll not be spoken to like that in my own 'ome!" > > > roared Marty Fitzroy, and he took a step towards > > > Arabella, his fist clenching. > > > > > > "Is there somewhere else you'd =prefer= to be spoken to > > > in such a manner?" Vangie inquired, her voice frosty. > > > > > > "Now Mr. Fitzroy, I'll not have this behaviour in this > > > building." Hodges moved to step between the feisty > > > dowager and the boor. The old man was still spry enough > > > to make trouble for a brutish thug that threatened a > > > lady of quality! > > > > > > James couldn't let the elderly man take the brunt of > > > the brutism of Marty. > > > > > > "Marty." James said. "Hosting the party or not, there > > > is no reason to be rude. Especially to the fairer > > > gender, and especially given what's happened. Sit down." > > > > > > He looked at Marty intently. > > > > > > "Have we missed much?" said a voice from the service > > > door. It was Oswald Skeffington-Nottle, with Marion > > > Mauberley by his side. > > > > > > Marion was still looking pale and tense, but in command > > > of herself. Her glance, however, went immediately to > > > Anton Barowenski. > > > > > > He was still sitting on the sofa, one hand to his head, > > > looking pale and shaken. > > > > > > "Nope, a fainting spell and some fuss over Mrs. > > > Fitzroy's handbag, an innocent enough mistake," Michael > > > offered. > > > > > > "You taking the lead again, old chap?" he asked with a > > > wry smile. "I think Lucy's already pushed my name to > > > the top of some list." > > > > > > Oswald shot him a swift look. "Miss Mauberley is an > > > old friend too," he said. "In somewhat less ... ah ... > > > ambiguous circumstances. How is Sandra these days?" > > Marion gave him a curious look. > > > > "Only Mr. Fitzroy behaving boorishly," Arabella said, > > > holding her ground. Although she was quite short, she > > > planted her feet, in > > > their sensible little flats, as if she was not only massive, but > > > capable of taking on all comers. > > > > Vangie, though not a large woman by any means, snorted in agreement > > and took a firmer grasp on her clutch purse. > > > > > Marty glowered at her, but turned back to the bar. "I've 'ad a > > > shock," he muttered. Perhaps he intended that to act as an > > > apology. "I was very fond of Nola, I was." > > > > > > Esme, seated on the sofa, gave a high-pitched giggle and clutched > > > tighter at her bag. > > > > > > "Shock," Oswald mouthed at Marion. > > Marion raised an eyebrow, but made no other response. > > > > Marjorie casually poured a drink for Fitzroy after James was done > > > with the gin bottle. "Oh relax, Mr. Fitzroy... here." She put the > > > drink on the counter. > > > > > > "Then again, the last time I offered someone a drink to cool down > > > they were killed..." She started to giggle at the macabre joke of > > > the situation. > > > > > > "Drink," Oswald mouthed again. > > > > > > Aloud he said, "Now, Miss Mauberley and I were planning on asking > > > Mr Barowenski a few questions. Perhaps ... is there anyone here > > > who speaks Polish? It might assist Mr Barowenski." > > > > > > He glanced around the room. "And perhaps we need to deal with > > > those people who are quite rightly very upset ... Should we > > > adjourn somewhere else? Several somewhere elses, if necessary." > > > > "I think that would be a very good idea," Vangie said. "May > I offer my > > flat as one of those somewhere elses? It's only one floor down." > > "I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Vangie," said Marion, > then added diplomatically, "It might upset Sweetie to have > strangers in the flat." "Nonsense," Vangie said. "He likes people." From kcunningham40 at comcast.net Tue Dec 28 10:43:29 2004 From: kcunningham40 at comcast.net (Katie Fulton) Date: Tue Dec 28 10:41:49 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge References: <20041228153845.9D6C53982EF@ws5-1.us4.outblaze.com> Message-ID: <008f01c4ecf3$faa2d540$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> > > He glanced around the room. "And perhaps we need to deal with > > those people who are quite rightly very upset ... Should we > > adjourn somewhere else? Several somewhere elses, if necessary." > > "I think that would be a very good idea," Vangie said. "May I offer my > flat as one of those somewhere elses? It's only one floor down." "I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Vangie," said Marion, then added diplomatically, "It might upset Sweetie to have strangers in the flat." "There's my suite," offered Richard. "I have enough room to entertain, and I think there's a cache or two of wine to pull on, for calming nerves." From margdean56 at operamail.com Tue Dec 28 10:55:59 2004 From: margdean56 at operamail.com (Margaret Dean) Date: Tue Dec 28 10:56:04 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge Message-ID: <20041228155559.3EABB23CF6@ws5-3.us4.outblaze.com> ----- Original Message ----- From: "Pruehs, Ree M." To: murder_at_christmas@gamera.cc Subject: RE: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge Date: Tue, 28 Dec 2004 10:42:01 -0500 > > > > > Nicola, who was busy scooping the various and sundry > > > > items back into the bag, began apologizing: "I'm > > terribly > > sorry, Mrs. Fitzroy, it was my idea. I know > > it's the height > > of rudeness to go through someone's > > bag." > > > > > > > > Her husband took a step towards her. "Leave that!" he > > > > ordered. > > > > > > > > Nicola turned to look at Marty Fitzroy with a look of > > > > utter disdain and contempt. She fastened Esme's handbag > > > > and held it out to the woman. "Pay no attention to that > > > > wretched man, Mrs. Fitzroy. Here you are, darling, and > > again, > > I'm so very sorry." > > > > > > > > Esme seized the bag and clutched it to her. > > > > > > > > Arabella stepped towards them. She had had rather > > > > enough of Marty Fitzroy bullying people, especially his > > > > wife. No wonder the woman was so nervous. "Really, Mr. > > > > Fitzroy," she said, in the voice of the Countess she > > had been > > for so many years, "that is hardly the tone to > > use after your > > wife has just swooned." Turning to Esme, > > she said, in a > > softer tone, "My dear, under the > > circumstances, it's a wonder > > more people aren't feeling > > faint." > > > > > > > > "I'll not be spoken to like that in my own 'ome!" > > > > roared Marty Fitzroy, and he took a step towards > > > > Arabella, his fist clenching. > > > > > > > > "Is there somewhere else you'd =prefer= to be spoken to > > > > in such a manner?" Vangie inquired, her voice frosty. > > > > > > > > "Now Mr. Fitzroy, I'll not have this behaviour in this > > > > building." Hodges moved to step between the feisty > > > > dowager and the boor. The old man was still spry enough > > to > > make trouble for a brutish thug that threatened a > > lady of > > quality! > > > > > > > > James couldn't let the elderly man take the brunt of > > > > the brutism of Marty. > > > > > > > > "Marty." James said. "Hosting the party or not, there > > > > is no reason to be rude. Especially to the fairer > > gender, > > and especially given what's happened. Sit down." > > > > > > > > He looked at Marty intently. > > > > > > > > "Have we missed much?" said a voice from the service > > > > door. It was Oswald Skeffington-Nottle, with Marion > > > > Mauberley by his side. > > > > > > > > Marion was still looking pale and tense, but in command > > > > of herself. Her glance, however, went immediately to > > > > Anton Barowenski. > > > > > > > > He was still sitting on the sofa, one hand to his head, > > > > looking pale and shaken. > > > > > > > > "Nope, a fainting spell and some fuss over Mrs. > > > > Fitzroy's handbag, an innocent enough mistake," Michael > > offered. > > > > > > > > "You taking the lead again, old chap?" he asked with a > > > > wry smile. "I think Lucy's already pushed my name to > > the > > top of some list." > > > > > > > > Oswald shot him a swift look. "Miss Mauberley is an > > > > old friend too," he said. "In somewhat less ... ah ... > > > > ambiguous circumstances. How is Sandra these days?" > > > > Marion gave him a curious look. > > > > > > "Only Mr. Fitzroy behaving boorishly," Arabella said, > > > > holding her ground. Although she was quite short, she > > > > planted her feet, in > > > > their sensible little flats, as if she was not only massive, > > but > > capable of taking on all comers. > > > > Vangie, though not a large woman by any means, snorted in > > agreement > and took a firmer grasp on her clutch purse. > > > > > Marty glowered at her, but turned back to the bar. "I've 'ad a > > > > shock," he muttered. Perhaps he intended that to act as an > > > > apology. "I was very fond of Nola, I was." > > > > > > > > Esme, seated on the sofa, gave a high-pitched giggle and clutched > > > > tighter at her bag. > > > > > > > > "Shock," Oswald mouthed at Marion. > > > > Marion raised an eyebrow, but made no other response. > > > > > > Marjorie casually poured a drink for Fitzroy after James was done > > > > with the gin bottle. "Oh relax, Mr. Fitzroy... here." She put > > the > > drink on the counter. > > > > > > > > "Then again, the last time I offered someone a drink to cool down > > > > they were killed..." She started to giggle at the macabre > > joke of > > the situation. > > > > > > > > "Drink," Oswald mouthed again. > > > > > > > > Aloud he said, "Now, Miss Mauberley and I were planning on asking > > > > Mr Barowenski a few questions. Perhaps ... is there anyone > > here > > who speaks Polish? It might assist Mr Barowenski." > > > > > > > > He glanced around the room. "And perhaps we need to deal with > > > > those people who are quite rightly very upset ... Should we > > > > adjourn somewhere else? Several somewhere elses, if necessary." > > > > "I think that would be a very good idea," Vangie said. "May I > > offer my > flat as one of those somewhere elses? It's only one > > floor down." > > > > "I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Vangie," said Marion, then > > added diplomatically, "It might upset Sweetie to have strangers > > in the flat." > > "Nonsense," Vangie said. "He likes people." "He thinks they're delicious," Marion murmured to Oswald, under her breath. --Margaret Dean -- _____________________________________________________________ Web-based SMS services available at http://www.operamail.com. From your mailbox to local or overseas cell phones. Powered by Outblaze From faespinner at yahoo.com Tue Dec 28 10:57:40 2004 From: faespinner at yahoo.com (Tara Kunkel) Date: Tue Dec 28 10:58:00 2004 Subject: [MaC] Breaking the news In-Reply-To: <20041228115243.69861.qmail@web50709.mail.yahoo.com> References: <002601c4ec99$1740f160$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Message-ID: <5.1.0.14.0.20041228105243.027d2308@pop.mail.yahoo.com> At 06:52 AM 12/28/2004, you wrote: >--- Brian Schoner wrote: > > > > Cyril, who had remained in the doorway, reached out > > > reflexively as Phillip stumbled, but withdrew and stepped out > > > of the officer's way as he recovered. He held the door for > > > him and murmurred, "You've done what you can, lad," as > > > Phillip re-entered the building. > > > > > >> Braham watched him retreat then turned back to the warden. > > >> "Understand that we have a murderer in that building and no > > >> idea who he *or she* is. Tensions are a bit high. This > > >> situation could easily get out of hand. I realize the > > >> situation on the street is also rather delicate and this may > > >> indeed be secondary among your priorities, but if you could please > > >> inform the police we would be most grateful." He was doing his > > >> best to remain diplomatic. There was no point in allowing tempers > > >> to flare. The situation was not the fault of the warden. The man > > >> was really only doing his job as best he could. > > >> > > >> Before turning to accompany the officer back upstairs, Braham offered > > >> a slight bow of his head and a soft spoken "thank you". > > > > "I'm sorry if I came off rather cross," Philip said, as he inspected his > > right hand; it looked like some of the old burn scars had broken open from > > the impact with the doorframe. "It just seemed as though he was implying > > that the whole mess was not only our responsibility, but our fault. But I > > suppose we all have to make do as best we can." "No apologies are necessary. You're right, his reaction was a bit frustrating.I only hope he actually passes the information along," Braham replied. >Cyril noticed the condition of Phillip's hand over his shoulder. >"That's a nasty wound. I think we have some gauze in our flat. Do you >want to take care of that before we go back to the party?" he offered. >Philip laughed wryly. "It's not nearly as bad as it has been, I can tell you >that. Still, it'd be best not to bleed on anything, particularly given the >circumstances. I've some bandages in my room as well; no sense in using up >yours due to my own clumsiness. I'll just pop in and take care of it, then >meet you back at the Fitroys'. Thanks for the offer, though." Braham looked down at the injury. "I'm sure you are probably quite skilled at taking care of it yourself but if you would like assistance I really am in no hurry to return to whatever is left of the party." His voice held no pity, only practicality. From hmace at elfworks.com Tue Dec 28 13:19:33 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Tue Dec 28 13:19:33 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge In-Reply-To: <20041228155559.3EABB23CF6@ws5-3.us4.outblaze.com> References: <20041228155559.3EABB23CF6@ws5-3.us4.outblaze.com> Message-ID: <41D1A3B5.1060609@elfworks.com> >>>>Aloud he said, "Now, Miss Mauberley and I were planning on asking >>>>Mr Barowenski a few questions. Perhaps ... is there anyone >>>>here who speaks Polish? It might assist Mr Barowenski." >> >>>>He glanced around the room. "And perhaps we need to deal with >>>those people who are quite rightly very upset ... Should we >>>adjourn somewhere else? Several somewhere elses, if necessary." >>> >>>"I think that would be a very good idea," Vangie said. "May I >>>offer my flat as one of those somewhere elses? It's only one >>>floor down." >>> >>>"I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Vangie," said Marion, then >>>added diplomatically, "It might upset Sweetie to have strangers >>>in the flat." >> >>"Nonsense," Vangie said. "He likes people." > > > "He thinks they're delicious," Marion murmured to Oswald, under her breath. Marjorie shook her head. "Wait... one of us might have killed Miss Diamond? And you want us to go back to our rooms? No way... I'm staying right here with other until this gets figured out." From rpruehs at Itctransco.com Tue Dec 28 13:25:03 2004 From: rpruehs at Itctransco.com (Pruehs, Ree M.) Date: Tue Dec 28 13:24:53 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge Message-ID: > >>>>Aloud he said, "Now, Miss Mauberley and I were planning > on asking Mr > >>>>Barowenski a few questions. Perhaps ... is there anyone here who > >>>>speaks Polish? It might assist Mr Barowenski." > >> > >>>>He glanced around the room. "And perhaps we need to deal with > >>>those people who are quite rightly very upset ... Should we > >>>adjourn somewhere else? Several somewhere elses, if necessary." > >>> > >>>"I think that would be a very good idea," Vangie said. "May I > >>>offer my flat as one of those somewhere elses? It's only one > >>>floor down." > >>> > >>>"I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Vangie," said Marion, then > >>>added diplomatically, "It might upset Sweetie to have strangers > >>>in the flat." > >> > >>"Nonsense," Vangie said. "He likes people." > > > > "He thinks they're delicious," Marion murmured to Oswald, under her > > breath. > > Marjorie shook her head. "Wait... one of us might have > killed Miss Diamond? And you want us to go back to our > rooms? No way... I'm staying right here with other until > this gets figured out." "I was not insinuating," Vangie protested, wounded, "that anyone should go anywhere alone, of course. But three or more together should be quite safe. Besides, are we really quite sure that there might not have been a-a burglar? Who even now might be in another of -our- flats? Waiting to murder someone else?" From nowsounds at comcast.net Tue Dec 28 13:27:57 2004 From: nowsounds at comcast.net (Nowsounds) Date: Tue Dec 28 13:28:09 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge References: Message-ID: <001b01c4ed0a$f506b590$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> > > Marjorie shook her head. "Wait... one of us might have > killed Miss Diamond? And you want us to go back to our > rooms? No way... I'm staying right here with other until > this gets figured out." "I was not insinuating," Vangie protested, wounded, "that anyone should go anywhere alone, of course. But three or more together should be quite safe. Besides, are we really quite sure that there might not have been a-a burglar? Who even now might be in another of -our- flats? Waiting to murder someone else?" "Both excellent points," Arabella said crisply. "I do think separating into small groups has several advantages, one of which is easing the sense of chaos we are all feeling... And if we are in groups of three or four, no one will be in immediate danger at all." She smiled at Marjorie and said, "I have no reason to suspect you of anything, for example, and would feel perfectly comfortable in a group with you and one or two others..." From jvstin at gmail.com Tue Dec 28 14:14:25 2004 From: jvstin at gmail.com (Jvstin) Date: Tue Dec 28 14:14:35 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge In-Reply-To: <001b01c4ed0a$f506b590$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> References: <001b01c4ed0a$f506b590$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> Message-ID: <36e1ae03041228111469487a8f@mail.gmail.com> On Tue, 28 Dec 2004 13:27:57 -0500, Nowsounds wrote: > > > > Marjorie shook her head. "Wait... one of us might have > > killed Miss Diamond? And you want us to go back to our > > rooms? No way... I'm staying right here with other until > > this gets figured out." > > "I was not insinuating," Vangie protested, wounded, "that anyone should > go anywhere alone, of course. But three or more together should be quite > safe. Besides, are we really quite sure that there might not have been > a-a burglar? Who even now might be in another of -our- flats? Waiting to > murder someone else?" > > "Both excellent points," Arabella said crisply. "I do think separating into > small groups has several advantages, one of which is easing the sense of > chaos we are all feeling... And if we are in groups of three or four, no one > will be in immediate danger at all." She smiled at Marjorie and said, "I > have no reason to suspect you of anything, for example, and would feel > perfectly comfortable in a group with you and one or two others..." > "We should keep to mixed groups." James offered, after taking a long sip of his gin and tonic. "There is no sense in putting the ladies under threat." he said. "Not with a miscreant on the loose." "But I will stay with Mr. Barowenski." James announced. "Since I do speak Polish fluently." From Mrfury28 at aol.com Tue Dec 28 14:52:56 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Tue Dec 28 14:53:14 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge Message-ID: "We should keep to mixed groups." James offered, after taking a long sip of his gin and tonic. "There is no sense in putting the ladies under threat." he said. "Not with a miscreant on the loose." "But I will stay with Mr. Barowenski." James announced. "Since I do speak Polish fluently." "If there is reason to suspect someone from outside - a burglar perhaps - killed Miss Diamond, we should split into groups and search all the flats." Hodges agreed. "If someone came in, its likely they are still here, since the troops outside would probably have spotted anyone fleeing Mortmain." -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041228/c68d8b55/attachment.htm From nowsounds at comcast.net Tue Dec 28 14:56:27 2004 From: nowsounds at comcast.net (Nowsounds) Date: Tue Dec 28 14:56:39 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge References: Message-ID: <006501c4ed17$51ca4e20$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> "We should keep to mixed groups." James offered, after taking a long sip of his gin and tonic. "There is no sense in putting the ladies under threat." he said. "Not with a miscreant on the loose." "But I will stay with Mr. Barowenski." James announced. "Since I do speak Polish fluently." "If there is reason to suspect someone from outside - a burglar perhaps - killed Miss Diamond, we should split into groups and search all the flats." Hodges agreed. "If someone came in, its likely they are still here, since the troops outside would probably have spotted anyone fleeing Mortmain" "I doubt any burglar went into our flat," Arabella said, "or Mrs. Evans's for that matter. Any burglar with the least bit of sense would have heard the dogs barking and chosen some other target. But, of course, I am willing to have our home searched, if necessary..." -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041228/84385b6f/attachment-0001.htm From rpruehs at Itctransco.com Tue Dec 28 15:02:52 2004 From: rpruehs at Itctransco.com (Pruehs, Ree M.) Date: Tue Dec 28 15:02:47 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge Message-ID: "We should keep to mixed groups." James offered, after taking a long sip of his gin and tonic. "There is no sense in putting the ladies under threat." he said. "Not with a miscreant on the loose." "But I will stay with Mr. Barowenski." James announced. "Since I do speak Polish fluently." "If there is reason to suspect someone from outside - a burglar perhaps - killed Miss Diamond, we should split into groups and search all the flats." Hodges agreed. "If someone came in, its likely they are still here, since the troops outside would probably have spotted anyone fleeing Mortmain" "I doubt any burglar went into our flat," Arabella said, "or Mrs. Evans's for that matter. Any burglar with the least bit of sense would have heard the dogs barking and chosen some other target. But, of course, I am willing to have our home searched, if necessary..." [ooc: Vangie has a cat, not a dog. An orange marmalade tabby. A moment's reverent silence to pity the poor unsuspecting burglar.] -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041228/d52af453/attachment.htm From hmace at elfworks.com Tue Dec 28 15:04:23 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Tue Dec 28 15:04:22 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge In-Reply-To: <006501c4ed17$51ca4e20$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> References: <006501c4ed17$51ca4e20$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> Message-ID: <41D1BC47.4010500@elfworks.com> > > "But I will stay with Mr. Barowenski." James announced. "Since I do > speak Polish fluently." > > "If there is reason to suspect someone from outside - a burglar perhaps > - killed Miss Diamond, we should split into groups and search all the > flats." Hodges agreed. "If someone came in, its likely they are still > here, since the troops outside would probably have spotted anyone > fleeing Mortmain" > > "I doubt any burglar went into our flat," Arabella said, "or Mrs. > Evans's for that matter. Any burglar with the least bit of sense would > have heard the dogs barking and chosen some other target. But, of > course, I am willing to have our home searched, if necessary..." "When did she... when was Miss Diamond killed?" Marjorie suddenly asked. "Was it during the blackout?" From nowsounds at comcast.net Tue Dec 28 15:06:02 2004 From: nowsounds at comcast.net (Nowsounds) Date: Tue Dec 28 15:06:13 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge - Re-Edit References: Message-ID: <008f01c4ed18$a8380c60$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> Message"I doubt any burglar went into our flat," Arabella said, "or Mrs. Evans's for that matter. Any burglar with the least bit of sense would have heard Flash barking, or Mrs. Evans's cat making those odd noises he makes, and chosen some other target. But, of course, I am willing to have our home searched, if necessary..." ----- Original Message ----- From: Pruehs, Ree M. To: murder_at_christmas@gamera.cc Sent: Tuesday, December 28, 2004 3:02 PM Subject: RE: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge "We should keep to mixed groups." James offered, after taking a long sip of his gin and tonic. "There is no sense in putting the ladies under threat." he said. "Not with a miscreant on the loose." "But I will stay with Mr. Barowenski." James announced. "Since I do speak Polish fluently." "If there is reason to suspect someone from outside - a burglar perhaps - killed Miss Diamond, we should split into groups and search all the flats." Hodges agreed. "If someone came in, its likely they are still here, since the troops outside would probably have spotted anyone fleeing Mortmain" "I doubt any burglar went into our flat," Arabella said, "or Mrs. Evans's for that matter. Any burglar with the least bit of sense would have heard the dogs barking and chosen some other target. But, of course, I am willing to have our home searched, if necessary..." [ooc: Vangie has a cat, not a dog. An orange marmalade tabby. A moment's reverent silence to pity the poor unsuspecting burglar.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ _______________________________________________ murder_at_christmas mailing list murder_at_christmas@gamera.cc http://gamera.cc/mailman/listinfo/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041228/40732673/attachment.htm From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Tue Dec 28 16:54:29 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Tue Dec 28 16:54:25 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge References: Message-ID: <01bb01c4ed27$ce5941c0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message"We should keep to mixed groups." James offered, after taking a long sip of his gin and tonic. "There is no sense in putting the ladies under threat." he said. "Not with a miscreant on the loose." "But I will stay with Mr. Barowenski." James announced. "Since I do speak Polish fluently." "If there is reason to suspect someone from outside - a burglar perhaps - killed Miss Diamond, we should split into groups and search all the flats." Hodges agreed. "If someone came in, its likely they are still here, since the troops outside would probably have spotted anyone fleeing Mortmain" "I doubt any burglar went into our flat," Arabella said, "or Mrs. Evans's for that matter. Any burglar with the least bit of sense would have heard the dogs barking and chosen some other target. But, of course, I am willing to have our home searched, if necessary..." [ooc: Vangie has a cat, not a dog. An orange marmalade tabby. A moment's reverent silence to pity the poor unsuspecting burglar.] [He is played by Torvald. I think that says enough.] From nowsounds at comcast.net Tue Dec 28 17:02:57 2004 From: nowsounds at comcast.net (Nowsounds) Date: Tue Dec 28 17:03:08 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge References: <01bb01c4ed27$ce5941c0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <00be01c4ed28$fd9658a0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> > [ooc: Vangie has a cat, not a dog. An orange marmalade tabby. A moment's > reverent silence to pity the poor unsuspecting burglar.] > > > [He is played by Torvald. I think that says enough.] [I have just caught up on the adventures of Torvald - who bears a slight resemblance to our own Milo - and have to ask, what is it about orange marmalade tabby cats, anyway?] From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Tue Dec 28 17:18:53 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Tue Dec 28 17:19:20 2004 Subject: [MaC] Breaking the news References: <002601c4ec99$1740f160$96f1fea9@BriansPC> <5.1.0.14.0.20041228105243.027d2308@pop.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <01f901c4ed2b$380cdc00$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> > "I'm sorry if I came off rather cross," Philip said, as he inspected >> > his >> > right hand; it looked like some of the old burn scars had broken open >> > from >> > the impact with the doorframe. "It just seemed as though he was >> > implying >> > that the whole mess was not only our responsibility, but our fault. But >> > I >> > suppose we all have to make do as best we can." > > "No apologies are necessary. You're right, his reaction was a bit > frustrating.I only hope he actually passes the information along," Braham > replied. > >>Cyril noticed the condition of Phillip's hand over his shoulder. >>"That's a nasty wound. I think we have some gauze in our flat. Do you >>want to take care of that before we go back to the party?" he offered. > >>Philip laughed wryly. "It's not nearly as bad as it has been, I can tell >>you >>that. Still, it'd be best not to bleed on anything, particularly given the >>circumstances. I've some bandages in my room as well; no sense in using up >>yours due to my own clumsiness. I'll just pop in and take care of it, then >>meet you back at the Fitroys'. Thanks for the offer, though." > > Braham looked down at the injury. "I'm sure you are probably quite skilled > at taking care of it yourself but if you would like assistance I really am > in no hurry to return to whatever is left of the party." His voice held no > pity, only practicality. It was agreed then that the three should call in at Mrs Evans' flat on the way back up to the party. This, of course, meant that they came face to face with Sweetie, who was stretched out on the sofa. He looked up coldly at the unwarranted intrusion. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Tue Dec 28 17:39:31 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Tue Dec 28 17:39:21 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge - Re-Edit References: <008f01c4ed18$a8380c60$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> Message-ID: <020401c4ed2e$18e02dc0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message "We should keep to mixed groups." James offered, after taking a long sip of his gin and tonic. "There is no sense in putting the ladies under threat." he said. "Not with a miscreant on the loose." "But I will stay with Mr. Barowenski." James announced. "Since I do speak Polish fluently." "If there is reason to suspect someone from outside - a burglar perhaps - killed Miss Diamond, we should split into groups and search all the flats." Hodges agreed. "If someone came in, its likely they are still here, since the troops outside would probably have spotted anyone fleeing Mortmain" "I doubt any burglar went into our flat," Arabella said, "or Mrs. Evans's for that matter. Any burglar with the least bit of sense would have heard Flash barking, or Mrs. Evans's cat making those odd noises he makes, and chosen some other target. But, of course, I am willing to have our home searched, if necessary..." "Well, yes," said Oswald hastily, before Vangie could take offence at the reference to 'odd noises'. "I suggest that Hodges, the Wing-Commander and ... " He cast an eye around the room, "Miss Douglas search the flats to make sure there are no suspicious characters hanging about. Hodges, you have your pass key, I presume? "Mrs Evans, you and Lady Gower could certainly go down to your flat, if you wished. And perhaps Mrs Beaman could go with you." "I'm not staying here," said Esme Fitzroy quickly with a glance at her husband. From kcunningham40 at comcast.net Tue Dec 28 17:41:34 2004 From: kcunningham40 at comcast.net (Katie Fulton) Date: Tue Dec 28 17:39:53 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge References: <01bb01c4ed27$ce5941c0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <008601c4ed2e$62ea3050$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> "We should keep to mixed groups." James offered, after taking a long sip of his gin and tonic. "There is no sense in putting the ladies under threat." he said. "Not with a miscreant on the loose." "But I will stay with Mr. Barowenski." James announced. "Since I do speak Polish fluently." "If there is reason to suspect someone from outside - a burglar perhaps - killed Miss Diamond, we should split into groups and search all the flats." Hodges agreed. "If someone came in, its likely they are still here, since the troops outside would probably have spotted anyone fleeing Mortmain" "I doubt any burglar went into our flat," Arabella said, "or Mrs. Evans's for that matter. Any burglar with the least bit of sense would have heard the dogs barking and chosen some other target. But, of course, I am willing to have our home searched, if necessary..." "I can do a search anywhere," offered Richard, rising from Esme's side. "And, of course, anyone can look through my flat. We also might want to check alleyways... Likely exit and entrance." He looked around for candidates to accompany him. From nowsounds at comcast.net Tue Dec 28 17:41:20 2004 From: nowsounds at comcast.net (Nowsounds) Date: Tue Dec 28 17:41:31 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge - Re-Edit References: <008f01c4ed18$a8380c60$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <020401c4ed2e$18e02dc0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <00ea01c4ed2e$5a37a050$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> > > "I doubt any burglar went into our flat," Arabella said, "or Mrs. Evans's > for that matter. Any burglar with the least bit of sense would have heard > Flash barking, or Mrs. Evans's cat making those odd noises he makes, and > chosen some other target. But, of course, I am willing to have our home > searched, if necessary..." > > "Well, yes," said Oswald hastily, before Vangie could take offence at the > reference to 'odd noises'. > > "I suggest that Hodges, the Wing-Commander and ... " He cast an eye > around the room, "Miss Douglas search the flats to make sure there are no > suspicious characters hanging about. Hodges, you have your pass key, I > presume? > > "Mrs Evans, you and Lady Gower could certainly go down to your flat, if > you wished. And perhaps Mrs Beaman could go with you." > > "I'm not staying here," said Esme Fitzroy quickly with a glance at her husband. "You may come with us, Mrs. Fitroy," Arabella said, giving Marty Fitzroy a look that would wither any opposition. From kcunningham40 at comcast.net Tue Dec 28 17:44:41 2004 From: kcunningham40 at comcast.net (Katie Fulton) Date: Tue Dec 28 17:43:00 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge - Re-Edit References: <008f01c4ed18$a8380c60$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <020401c4ed2e$18e02dc0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <008e01c4ed2e$d1f995d0$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> "I doubt any burglar went into our flat," Arabella said, "or Mrs. Evans's for that matter. Any burglar with the least bit of sense would have heard Flash barking, or Mrs. Evans's cat making those odd noises he makes, and chosen some other target. But, of course, I am willing to have our home searched, if necessary..." "Well, yes," said Oswald hastily, before Vangie could take offence at the reference to 'odd noises'. "I suggest that Hodges, the Wing-Commander and ... " He cast an eye around the room, "Miss Douglas search the flats to make sure there are no suspicious characters hanging about. Hodges, you have your pass key, I presume? "Mrs Evans, you and Lady Gower could certainly go down to your flat, if you wished. And perhaps Mrs Beaman could go with you." "I'm not staying here," said Esme Fitzroy quickly with a glance at her husband. "You may come with us, Mrs. Fitroy," Arabella said, giving Marty Fitzroy a look that would wither any opposition. Richard looked back at Esme, then Arabella. He gave them both a smile. "If we're keeping mixed company, why don't I go with you?" From jadethe2nd at yahoo.com Tue Dec 28 17:57:50 2004 From: jadethe2nd at yahoo.com (Jade) Date: Tue Dec 28 17:57:54 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body In-Reply-To: <41D16C53.7010405@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <20041228225750.95030.qmail@web60808.mail.yahoo.com> > > Lucinda reported the findings. > > "The fork isn't scratched at all, is it?" Pamela > asked, looking up from > her work. "I was only thinking... the murderer, to > keep from tearing up > his hands on whatever he used... could have wrapped > the ends 'round a > tuning fork and turned it... a sort of makeshift > garrote, I suppose. But > it would take awful presence of mind to do such a > thing. I daresay I'm > quite wrong." From her tone, she certainly hoped so. > > > "Are there any needle marks on her arms?" she > asked. > > > > There were, both Pamela and Tabitha could see - > but none showed signs of > > being infected. > > > > "Perhaps we should look in her handbag," suggested > Lucinda. > > "Perhaps you'd do that? If you don't mind," said > Pamela. "We'd make > something of a mess. Now, I wonder... marking her > arms, it can't have > been good for her career... I heard some wretched > stories from one young > man..." Carefully, Pamela pulled at the lashes of > Nola's left eye, upper > and lower, to examine the skin beneath for lesions. > Tabitha was running her fingers over Nola's stomach, pressing on the dark splotches here and there. "Oh..." she said quietly, scrutinising the skin closely. She bit her lip. __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! Mail - Helps protect you from nasty viruses. http://promotions.yahoo.com/new_mail From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Tue Dec 28 18:05:31 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Tue Dec 28 18:05:54 2004 Subject: [MaC] Breaking the news In-Reply-To: <01f901c4ed2b$380cdc00$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <002301c4ed31$bdd65fe0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> > It was agreed then that the three should call in at Mrs > Evans' flat on the way back up to the party. > > This, of course, meant that they came face to face with > Sweetie, who was stretched out on the sofa. He looked up > coldly at the unwarranted intrusion. "Right, gents," Philip said, very seriously. "I'm going to try to get back to the bath, which is where I keep the gauze. I'd keep from getting any closer to the cat, and try to avoid any sudden movements. Wish me luck." Suiting deed to word, he began moving, stealthily, towards the bathroom door, his eyes fixed on the cat. From dorothea at textartisan.com Tue Dec 28 18:27:29 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Tue Dec 28 18:29:32 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body In-Reply-To: <20041228225750.95030.qmail@web60808.mail.yahoo.com> References: <20041228225750.95030.qmail@web60808.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <41D1EBE1.3080801@textartisan.com> > Tabitha was running her fingers over Nola's stomach, > pressing on the dark splotches here and there. "Oh..." > she said quietly, scrutinising the skin closely. She > bit her lip. "Yes?" Pamela asked. "What did I miss?" From dorothea at textartisan.com Tue Dec 28 18:33:36 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Tue Dec 28 18:35:43 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body In-Reply-To: <41D1EBE1.3080801@textartisan.com> References: <20041228225750.95030.qmail@web60808.mail.yahoo.com> <41D1EBE1.3080801@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <41D1ED50.4080908@textartisan.com> > "Yes?" Pamela asked. "What did I miss?" A moment later, before Tabitha could answer, she stepped back from the table and stripped off her apron. "Bloody *hell*," she said, rather shockingly. "Subcutaneous bleeding from injections, not septicemia. I -- I can't do this, Tabitha. It's worse than -- I think I had better sit down." From jjkatalenic at yahoo.com Tue Dec 28 18:35:33 2004 From: jjkatalenic at yahoo.com (Jonathan Katalenic) Date: Tue Dec 28 18:35:45 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge - Re-Edit In-Reply-To: <008e01c4ed2e$d1f995d0$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> Message-ID: <20041228233533.38021.qmail@web20222.mail.yahoo.com> "Well, yes," said Oswald hastily, before Vangie could take offence at the reference to 'odd noises'. "I suggest that Hodges, the Wing-Commander and ... " He cast an eye around the room, "Miss Douglas search the flats to make sure there are no suspicious characters hanging about. Hodges, you have your pass key, I presume? "Mrs Evans, you and Lady Gower could certainly go down to your flat, if you wished. And perhaps Mrs Beaman could go with you." "I'm not staying here," said Esme Fitzroy quickly with a glance at her husband. "You may come with us, Mrs. Fitroy," Arabella said, giving Marty Fitzroy a look that would wither any opposition. Richard looked back at Esme, then Arabella. He gave them both a smile. "If we're keeping mixed company, why don't I go with you?" Nicola responded to Oswald's suggestion with a nod and stood, walking over towards the men. She rather liked the Wing Commander, but didn't know what to make of Hodges. The older gentleman seemed to dislike her on sight and Nicola had responded appropriately coolly. Although that was no matter now. They had a search ahead of them and whatever they thought about each other, she and Hodges would have to work together. She spoke to the men: "Well, gentlemen, I hate to be the one to bring up such an uncouth subject, but I do hope at least one of you is armed. After all, we have no idea what we're going to be encountering." __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! Mail - Helps protect you from nasty viruses. http://promotions.yahoo.com/new_mail From Mrfury28 at aol.com Tue Dec 28 18:36:40 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Tue Dec 28 18:36:48 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge - Re-Edit Message-ID: <1ea.32e598fd.2f034808@aol.com> "I suggest that Hodges, the Wing-Commander and ... " He cast an eye around the room, "Miss Douglas search the flats to make sure there are no suspicious characters hanging about. Hodges, you have your pass key, I presume?" "Yes I do." Hodges affirmed. "Very good sir. Might I also suggest someone stay with Miss Diamond's body? It should be covered after the nurses are through examining it; its only decent." He added, shaking his head solemnly. The elder mainteance man then waited for Coldsmith-Briggs and Miss Douglas to assent to the arrangement that the three do a quick search of the flats for any intruders. -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041228/65bb42a9/attachment.htm From hmace at elfworks.com Tue Dec 28 18:37:39 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Tue Dec 28 18:37:37 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge - Re-Edit In-Reply-To: <008e01c4ed2e$d1f995d0$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> References: <008f01c4ed18$a8380c60$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <020401c4ed2e$18e02dc0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <008e01c4ed2e$d1f995d0$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> Message-ID: <41D1EE43.9040202@elfworks.com> >> "I doubt any burglar went into our flat," Arabella said, "or Mrs. Evans's >> for that matter. Any burglar with the least bit of sense would have heard >> Flash barking, or Mrs. Evans's cat making those odd noises he makes, and >> chosen some other target. But, of course, I am willing to have our home >> searched, if necessary..." > >> "Well, yes," said Oswald hastily, before Vangie could take offence at the >> reference to 'odd noises'. > >"When did she... when was Miss Diamond killed?" Marjorie suddenly >asked. "Was it during the blackout?" > > >> "I suggest that Hodges, the Wing-Commander and ... " He cast an eye around >> the room, "Miss Douglas search the flats to make sure there are no >> suspicious characters hanging about. Hodges, you have your pass key, I >> presume? > >> "Mrs Evans, you and Lady Gower could certainly go down to your flat, if you >> wished. And perhaps Mrs Beaman could go with you." > >> "I'm not staying here," said Esme Fitzroy quickly with a glance at her >> husband. > >> "You may come with us, Mrs. Fitroy," Arabella said, giving Marty Fitzroy a >> look that would wither any opposition. > > Richard looked back at Esme, then Arabella. He gave them both a smile. "If > we're keeping mixed company, why don't I go with you?" "HEY!" Marjorie yelled from the bar. She was flushed, half panicked looking. "When did she die!? Was it during the blackout? Cause... how would the killer know there was going to be a blackout!? We oughta figure that out before we scatter like pigeons." From Mrfury28 at aol.com Tue Dec 28 18:41:00 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Tue Dec 28 18:41:09 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge - Re-Edit Message-ID: <8b.1d88a883.2f03490c@aol.com> Nicola responded to Oswald's suggestion with a nod and stood, walking over towards the men. She rather liked the Wing Commander, but didn't know what to make of Hodges. The older gentleman seemed to dislike her on sight and Nicola had responded appropriately coolly. Although that was no matter now. They had a search ahead of them and whatever they thought about each other, she and Hodges would have to work together. She spoke to the men: "Well, gentlemen, I hate to be the one to bring up such an uncouth subject, but I do hope at least one of you is armed. After all, we have no idea what we're going to be encountering." "Not me, miss." Hodges replied politely. "Though I can retrieve my Home Guard service rifle in my flat before we set out. Might as well search my flat first, make sure its still there." He added. OOC: I think I may have mxied Nicola up with Nola in the first few posts; my apologies for Hodges' unwarranted reaction to Miss Douglas. :) -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041228/74c05430/attachment.htm From kcunningham40 at comcast.net Tue Dec 28 18:43:57 2004 From: kcunningham40 at comcast.net (Katie Fulton) Date: Tue Dec 28 18:42:15 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge - Re-Edit References: <20041228233533.38021.qmail@web20222.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <00c101c4ed37$194da680$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> Richard looked back at Esme, then Arabella. He gave them both a smile. "If we're keeping mixed company, why don't I go with you?" Nicola responded to Oswald's suggestion with a nod and stood, walking over towards the men. She rather liked the Wing Commander, but didn't know what to make of Hodges. The older gentleman seemed to dislike her on sight and Nicola had responded appropriately coolly. Although that was no matter now. They had a search ahead of them and whatever they thought about each other, she and Hodges would have to work together. She spoke to the men: "Well, gentlemen, I hate to be the one to bring up such an uncouth subject, but I do hope at least one of you is armed. After all, we have no idea what we're going to be encountering." [new] "Erm..." Richard's lips thinned. "Actually, I'm not sure... I never looked for a pistol..." [inserted] "HEY!" Marjorie yelled from the bar. She was flushed, half panicked looking. "When did she die!? Was it during the blackout? Cause... how would the killer know there was going to be a blackout!? We oughta figure that out before we scatter like pigeons." "That is true," admitted Richard. "It might have been a crime of opportunity, but it might have been planned... But why during a party?" From hmace at elfworks.com Tue Dec 28 19:15:29 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Tue Dec 28 19:15:27 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge In-Reply-To: <00c101c4ed37$194da680$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> References: <20041228233533.38021.qmail@web20222.mail.yahoo.com> <00c101c4ed37$194da680$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> Message-ID: <41D1F721.4020705@elfworks.com> > > Nicola responded to Oswald's suggestion with a nod and > stood, walking over towards the men. She rather liked > the Wing Commander, but didn't know what to make of > Hodges. The older gentleman seemed to dislike her on > sight and Nicola had responded appropriately coolly. > > Although that was no matter now. They had a search > ahead of them and whatever they thought about each > other, she and Hodges would have to work together. She > spoke to the men: "Well, gentlemen, I hate to be the > one to bring up such an uncouth subject, but I do hope > at least one of you is armed. After all, we have no > idea what we're going to be encountering." > > "Erm..." Richard's lips thinned. "Actually, I'm not sure... I never > looked for a pistol..." > > "HEY!" Marjorie yelled from the bar. She was flushed, half panicked > looking. "When did she die!? Was it during the blackout? Cause... > how would the killer know there was going to be a blackout!? We oughta > figure that out before we scatter like pigeons." > > "That is true," admitted Richard. "It might have been a crime of > opportunity, but it might have been planned... But why during a party?" "Cause people are busy talking to people, and drinking." Marjorie held up her glass. "And not paying attention to everyone else." "Maybe.... maybe the killer knew there was a UXB outside!" Marjorie continued. "And called the disposal unit! Maybe that's how the killer could have known there'd be a blackout! We ought to find out how they knew about the bomb!" From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Tue Dec 28 19:39:29 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Tue Dec 28 19:39:29 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge References: <20041228233533.38021.qmail@web20222.mail.yahoo.com><00c101c4ed37$194da680$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> <41D1F721.4020705@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <025801c4ed3e$dbc20f60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> "HEY!" Marjorie yelled from the bar. She was flushed, half panicked >> looking. "When did she die!? Was it during the blackout? Cause... >> how would the killer know there was going to be a blackout!? We oughta >> figure that out before we scatter like pigeons." >> >> "That is true," admitted Richard. "It might have been a crime of >> opportunity, but it might have been planned... But why during a party?" > > "Cause people are busy talking to people, and drinking." > Marjorie held up her glass. "And not paying attention to > everyone else." > > "Maybe.... maybe the killer knew there was a UXB outside!" > Marjorie continued. "And called the disposal unit! Maybe > that's how the killer could have known there'd be a blackout! > We ought to find out how they knew about the bomb!" > (OOC - just for clarity - there was a blackout every night, whether there was a UXB or not - it was to prevent bombers being able to spot targets. What the blackout meant was that every window had to be covered by heavy black curtains - no-one was allowed to show a light (and there were no street lights or anything). But within houses, there were still lights on. What happened here was that the lights had to be put out because the air raid warden alerted them that the blackout wasn't working - they were showing a light. And when he came up to investigate, he found it was because of a tear in the blackout blinds that covered the windows, near the bar) From hmace at elfworks.com Tue Dec 28 19:46:48 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Tue Dec 28 19:46:47 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge In-Reply-To: <41D1F721.4020705@elfworks.com> References: <20041228233533.38021.qmail@web20222.mail.yahoo.com> <00c101c4ed37$194da680$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> <41D1F721.4020705@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <41D1FE78.2090703@elfworks.com> {reedited per Mel's clarification... blackout => lights out] >> >> "Erm..." Richard's lips thinned. "Actually, I'm not sure... I never >> looked for a pistol..." >> >> "HEY!" Marjorie yelled from the bar. She was flushed, half panicked >> looking. "When did she die!? Was it during the lights out? Cause... >> how would the killer know there was going to be a lights out!? We >> oughta figure that out before we scatter like pigeons." >> >> "That is true," admitted Richard. "It might have been a crime of >> opportunity, but it might have been planned... But why during a party?" > > > "Cause people are busy talking to people, and drinking." > Marjorie held up her glass. "And not paying attention to > everyone else." > > "Maybe.... maybe the killer knew there was a UXB outside!" > Marjorie continued. "And called the disposal unit! Maybe > that's how the killer could have known there'd be a lights > out! We ought to find out how they knew about the bomb!" From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Tue Dec 28 19:45:46 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Tue Dec 28 19:47:42 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body References: <20041228225750.95030.qmail@web60808.mail.yahoo.com><41D1EBE1.3080801@textartisan.com> <41D1ED50.4080908@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <026001c4ed3f$bbefe440$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> "Yes?" Pamela asked. "What did I miss?" > > A moment later, before Tabitha could answer, she stepped back from the > table and stripped off her apron. "Bloody *hell*," she said, rather > shockingly. "Subcutaneous bleeding from injections, not septicemia. I -- > I can't do this, Tabitha. It's worse than -- I think I had better sit > down." Lucinda moved to her side. "Are you all right, Lady Pamela?" she asked. "It must be very upsetting ... Would you like me to get you a brandy? Or your mother?" From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Tue Dec 28 19:47:54 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Tue Dec 28 19:47:49 2004 Subject: [MaC] Breaking the news References: <002301c4ed31$bdd65fe0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Message-ID: <026401c4ed40$08c7acd0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> It was agreed then that the three should call in at Mrs >> Evans' flat on the way back up to the party. >> >> This, of course, meant that they came face to face with >> Sweetie, who was stretched out on the sofa. He looked up >> coldly at the unwarranted intrusion. > > "Right, gents," Philip said, very seriously. "I'm going to try to get back > to the bath, which is where I keep the gauze. I'd keep from getting any > closer to the cat, and try to avoid any sudden movements. Wish me luck." > Suiting deed to word, he began moving, stealthily, towards the bathroom > door, his eyes fixed on the cat. > Sweetie watched his endeavours with some contempt. When Philip reached the most vulnerable point of his progress, he yawned widely, and then set to work at cleaning his claws with a series of vicious tugging bites. There was a strange sense that he was preparing his weapons. From jvstin at mindspring.com Tue Dec 28 19:52:45 2004 From: jvstin at mindspring.com (Jvstin(Mindspring)) Date: Tue Dec 28 19:52:54 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge In-Reply-To: <41D1FE78.2090703@elfworks.com> References: <20041228233533.38021.qmail@web20222.mail.yahoo.com> <00c101c4ed37$194da680$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> <41D1F721.4020705@elfworks.com> <41D1FE78.2090703@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <41D1FFDD.3000905@mindspring.com> on 12/28/2004 6:46 PM Heather Mace said the following: > > > {reedited per Mel's clarification... blackout => lights out] > >>> >>> "Erm..." Richard's lips thinned. "Actually, I'm not sure... I never >>> looked for a pistol..." >>> >>> "HEY!" Marjorie yelled from the bar. She was flushed, half panicked >>> looking. "When did she die!? Was it during the lights out? Cause... >>> how would the killer know there was going to be a lights out!? We >>> oughta figure that out before we scatter like pigeons." >>> >>> "That is true," admitted Richard. "It might have been a crime of >>> opportunity, but it might have been planned... But why during a party?" >> >> >> >> "Cause people are busy talking to people, and drinking." >> Marjorie held up her glass. "And not paying attention to >> everyone else." >> >> "Maybe.... maybe the killer knew there was a UXB outside!" >> Marjorie continued. "And called the disposal unit! Maybe >> that's how the killer could have known there'd be a lights out! We >> ought to find out how they knew about the bomb!" > James looked at Marjorie. "Or the killer timed matters to work under cover of darkness. But you are right, with everyone up here for a party, its doubly the perfect opportunity." "Which reinforces the idea that its someone from inside the building." James continued. From rmpruehs at cac.net Tue Dec 28 20:40:43 2004 From: rmpruehs at cac.net (Ree Moorhead Pruehs) Date: Tue Dec 28 20:44:40 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge ooc: In-Reply-To: <00be01c4ed28$fd9658a0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> References: <01bb01c4ed27$ce5941c0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <00be01c4ed28$fd9658a0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> Message-ID: <6.2.0.14.0.20041228204008.03c436f8@mail.cac.net> At 05:02 PM 12/28/2004, you wrote: >>[ooc: Vangie has a cat, not a dog. An orange marmalade tabby. A moment's >>reverent silence to pity the poor unsuspecting burglar.] >> >> >>[He is played by Torvald. I think that says enough.] > >[I have just caught up on the adventures of Torvald - who bears a slight >resemblance to our own Milo - and have to ask, what is it about orange >marmalade tabby cats, anyway?] [ooc: Heh. I rather thought he was going to be more of a Russian Blue until Torvald cast himself.] From rmpruehs at cac.net Tue Dec 28 20:43:57 2004 From: rmpruehs at cac.net (Ree Moorhead Pruehs) Date: Tue Dec 28 20:44:44 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge - Re-Edit In-Reply-To: <00ea01c4ed2e$5a37a050$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> References: <008f01c4ed18$a8380c60$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <020401c4ed2e$18e02dc0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <00ea01c4ed2e$5a37a050$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> Message-ID: <6.2.0.14.0.20041228204204.03c805e8@mail.cac.net> At 05:41 PM 12/28/2004, you wrote: >>"I doubt any burglar went into our flat," Arabella said, "or Mrs. Evans's >>for that matter. Any burglar with the least bit of sense would have heard >>Flash barking, or Mrs. Evans's cat making those odd noises he makes, and >>chosen some other target. But, of course, I am willing to have our home >>searched, if necessary..." >> >>"Well, yes," said Oswald hastily, before Vangie could take offence at the >>reference to 'odd noises'. >> >>"I suggest that Hodges, the Wing-Commander and ... " He cast an eye >>around the room, "Miss Douglas search the flats to make sure there are no >>suspicious characters hanging about. Hodges, you have your pass key, I >>presume? >> >>"Mrs Evans, you and Lady Gower could certainly go down to your flat, if >>you wished. And perhaps Mrs Beaman could go with you." >> >>"I'm not staying here," said Esme Fitzroy quickly with a glance at her >husband. > >"You may come with us, Mrs. Fitroy," Arabella said, giving Marty Fitzroy a >look that would wither any opposition. "Yes, do," said Vangie. "You look like you could do with a nice lie-down." From windeaglebjm at yahoo.com Tue Dec 28 21:05:57 2004 From: windeaglebjm at yahoo.com (Brenda McCartney) Date: Tue Dec 28 21:06:00 2004 Subject: [MaC] Breaking the news In-Reply-To: <026401c4ed40$08c7acd0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <20041229020557.95594.qmail@web50702.mail.yahoo.com> --- Mel Mason wrote: > >> It was agreed then that the three should call in at Mrs > >> Evans' flat on the way back up to the party. > >> > >> This, of course, meant that they came face to face with > >> Sweetie, who was stretched out on the sofa. He looked up > >> coldly at the unwarranted intrusion. > > > > "Right, gents," Philip said, very seriously. "I'm going to try to > get back > > to the bath, which is where I keep the gauze. I'd keep from getting > any > > closer to the cat, and try to avoid any sudden movements. Wish me > luck." > > Suiting deed to word, he began moving, stealthily, towards the > bathroom > > door, his eyes fixed on the cat. > > > > Sweetie watched his endeavours with some contempt. When Philip > reached the > most vulnerable point of his progress, he yawned widely, and then set > to > work at cleaning his claws with a series of vicious tugging bites. > There > was a strange sense that he was preparing his weapons. Cyril leaned over to Braham as he watched Phillip make his way around the cat. "That cat's a bloody menace, he is," Cyril commented softly. "You can hear it yowling all the way upstairs at night. Louder than the air raid sirens sometimes." __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Jazz up your holiday email with celebrity designs. Learn more. http://celebrity.mail.yahoo.com From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Tue Dec 28 21:17:16 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Tue Dec 28 21:17:09 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations References: <008f01c4ed18$a8380c60$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><020401c4ed2e$18e02dc0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><00ea01c4ed2e$5a37a050$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <6.2.0.14.0.20041228204204.03c805e8@mail.cac.net> Message-ID: <02a001c4ed4c$84475020$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >>>"Well, yes," said Oswald hastily, before Vangie could take offence at the >>>reference to 'odd noises'. >>> >>>"I suggest that Hodges, the Wing-Commander and ... " He cast an eye >>>around the room, "Miss Douglas search the flats to make sure there are no >>>suspicious characters hanging about. Hodges, you have your pass key, I >>>presume? >>> >>>"Mrs Evans, you and Lady Gower could certainly go down to your flat, if >>>you wished. And perhaps Mrs Beaman could go with you." >>> >>>"I'm not staying here," said Esme Fitzroy quickly with a glance at her >>husband. >> >>"You may come with us, Mrs. Fitroy," Arabella said, giving Marty Fitzroy a >>look that would wither any opposition. > > "Yes, do," said Vangie. "You look like you could do with a nice lie-down." The party then separated in different directions - Hodges, Michael and Nicola to check all the flats (OOC - starting at the top or the bottom?); Oswald, Marion, James and Anton to go down to the Skeffington-Nottles' flat to question Anton; Richard, Vangie, Esme and Arabella to Vangie's flat (OOC - where they'll encounter the other three, of course), and Marty, Glorence and Marhorie remaining in the flat - close to the investigation that was going on in Anton's flat. (OOC - please rename your threads whjen you start these) From dorothea at textartisan.com Tue Dec 28 21:23:33 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Tue Dec 28 21:25:33 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body In-Reply-To: <026001c4ed3f$bbefe440$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041228225750.95030.qmail@web60808.mail.yahoo.com><41D1EBE1.3080801@textartisan.com> <41D1ED50.4080908@textartisan.com> <026001c4ed3f$bbefe440$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41D21525.1040507@textartisan.com> > Lucinda moved to her side. > > "Are you all right, Lady Pamela?" she asked. "It must be very upsetting > ... Would you like me to get you a brandy? Or your mother?" Pamela found the nearest chair and fell into it, burying her head in her hands such that her careful coiffure suffered alarming disarrangement. "For God's sake, don't tell Mum. She'll fuss endlessly. It's just -- it's one thing to deal with living human bodies, however horrible what's happened to them. This -- it's just indecent!" With her hair coming down and her ordinary placidity cracked clean through, Pamela at that moment looked rather younger than her nineteen years. She pulled herself together as befitted her station and her training, however, sitting up straight and forcing all inconvenient signs of emotion from her face. "I'm sorry, Tabitha, Mrs. Skeffington-Nottle. What a terrible time to behave like a goose. Is there anything else we should do?" From kcunningham40 at comcast.net Tue Dec 28 21:37:13 2004 From: kcunningham40 at comcast.net (Katie Fulton) Date: Tue Dec 28 21:35:32 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: Richard, Vangie, Esme and Arabella References: <008f01c4ed18$a8380c60$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><020401c4ed2e$18e02dc0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><00ea01c4ed2e$5a37a050$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><6.2.0.14.0.20041228204204.03c805e8@mail.cac.net> <02a001c4ed4c$84475020$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <015201c4ed4f$4df35b10$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> Richard helped support Esme, while they made their way to the flat. "Perhaps some tea," he said, looking up at the doawager with a raised eyebrow. "That's good for a lady's nerves, no?" He gave her a crooked smile. "I'm afraid I was always shooed out when my mother took to fainting or such." From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Tue Dec 28 21:39:27 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Tue Dec 28 21:39:20 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body References: <20041228225750.95030.qmail@web60808.mail.yahoo.com><41D1EBE1.3080801@textartisan.com> <41D1ED50.4080908@textartisan.com><026001c4ed3f$bbefe440$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D21525.1040507@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <02ad01c4ed4f$9e0dcb80$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> Lucinda moved to her side. >> >> "Are you all right, Lady Pamela?" she asked. "It must be very upsetting >> ... Would you like me to get you a brandy? Or your mother?" > > Pamela found the nearest chair and fell into it, burying her head in her > hands such that her careful coiffure suffered alarming disarrangement. > "For God's sake, don't tell Mum. She'll fuss endlessly. It's just -- it's > one thing to deal with living human bodies, however horrible what's > happened to them. This -- it's just indecent!" > > With her hair coming down and her ordinary placidity cracked clean > through, Pamela at that moment looked rather younger than her nineteen > years. She pulled herself together as befitted her station and her > training, however, sitting up straight and forcing all inconvenient signs > of emotion from her face. "I'm sorry, Tabitha, Mrs. Skeffington-Nottle. > What a terrible time to behave like a goose. Is there anything else we > should do?" > Lucinda was looking at Tabitha and her movements rather thoughtfully. "I think," she said slowly, "that once Miss Rosen is satisfied, then we should just cover the poor woman decently and lock the room as best we can." She was still looking at Tabitha, and there seemed to be an unspoken question hovering in the air. "Was it ... Was she ... " From nowsounds at comcast.net Tue Dec 28 21:46:20 2004 From: nowsounds at comcast.net (Nowsounds) Date: Tue Dec 28 21:46:26 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: Richard, Vangie, Esme and Arabella References: <008f01c4ed18$a8380c60$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><020401c4ed2e$18e02dc0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><00ea01c4ed2e$5a37a050$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><6.2.0.14.0.20041228204204.03c805e8@mail.cac.net><02a001c4ed4c$84475020$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <015201c4ed4f$4df35b10$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> Message-ID: <001b01c4ed50$946cee70$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> > Richard helped support Esme, while they made their way to the flat. > > "Perhaps some tea," he said, looking up at the doawager with a raised > eyebrow. "That's good for a lady's nerves, no?" He gave her a crooked > smile. > "I'm afraid I was always shooed out when my mother took to fainting or > such." > "Did it happen often?" Arabella asked dryly. "As for tea, I think it a splendid idea. For all of us..." From hmace at elfworks.com Tue Dec 28 21:54:22 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Tue Dec 28 21:54:18 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations - Still in the Lounge In-Reply-To: <02a001c4ed4c$84475020$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <008f01c4ed18$a8380c60$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><020401c4ed2e$18e02dc0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><00ea01c4ed2e$5a37a050$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <6.2.0.14.0.20041228204204.03c805e8@mail.cac.net> <02a001c4ed4c$84475020$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41D21C5E.4030409@elfworks.com> > > The party then separated in different directions - Hodges, Michael and > Nicola to check all the flats (OOC - starting at the top or the > bottom?); Oswald, Marion, James and Anton to go down to the > Skeffington-Nottles' flat to question Anton; Richard, Vangie, Esme and > Arabella to Vangie's flat (OOC - where they'll encounter the other > three, of course), and Marty, Glorence and Marhorie remaining in the > flat - close to the investigation that was going on in Anton's flat. As the others left Marjorie came from around the bar, nearly limping. "My feet are just worn out..." she said as she came around to sit on the couch closest to the bar. "I'm not going anywhere for a while." "Terrible thing about Miss Diamond, though." Marjorie looked up at Fitzroy. "How long you know her for?" she asked the agent. From jjkatalenic at yahoo.com Tue Dec 28 22:24:25 2004 From: jjkatalenic at yahoo.com (Jonathan Katalenic) Date: Tue Dec 28 22:24:36 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: Hodges, Nicola and Michael In-Reply-To: <41D21C5E.4030409@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <20041229032426.61604.qmail@web20225.mail.yahoo.com> Nicola, Michael and Hodges exited Flat No. 20 and watched as the group ahead of them headed down the stairs. Nicola turned to the men and said, "Well, gentlemen, if I may make a suggestion, I'd prefer searching the ground floor first and working our way up from there. That way, if the killer is a burglar, we will be able to bump into him if he attempts to flee downstairs or what have you." She looked over the railing down into the flights below and nodded. "Also, we'll be able to pick up Mr. Hodges's rifle or whatever firearms you might have, Wing Commander. I don't want running in and yelling huzzah to be our only defense against an armed burglar." __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Send a seasonal email greeting and help others. Do good. http://celebrity.mail.yahoo.com From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Tue Dec 28 22:44:43 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Tue Dec 28 22:44:54 2004 Subject: [MaC] Breaking the news In-Reply-To: <026401c4ed40$08c7acd0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <003001c4ed58$bed372d0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> > Sweetie watched his endeavours with some contempt. When > Philip reached the most vulnerable point of his progress, he > yawned widely, and then set to work at cleaning his claws > with a series of vicious tugging bites. There was a strange > sense that he was preparing his weapons. Philip paled slightly at this, picked up his pace, and rapidly reached the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind him. From veazeyae at gmail.com Tue Dec 28 22:56:13 2004 From: veazeyae at gmail.com (Allen Veazey) Date: Tue Dec 28 22:56:15 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body In-Reply-To: <02ad01c4ed4f$9e0dcb80$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041228225750.95030.qmail@web60808.mail.yahoo.com> <41D1EBE1.3080801@textartisan.com> <41D1ED50.4080908@textartisan.com> <026001c4ed3f$bbefe440$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D21525.1040507@textartisan.com> <02ad01c4ed4f$9e0dcb80$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: > Lucinda was looking at Tabitha and her movements rather thoughtfully. > > "I think," she said slowly, "that once Miss Rosen is satisfied, then we > should just cover the poor woman decently and lock the room as best we can." > > She was still looking at Tabitha, and there seemed to be an unspoken > question hovering in the air. "Was it ... Was she ... " Warren puttered over to the gramophone; he examined the record label, frowning a little. "I'm afraid I'm not an expert on music," he said. "Does anyone know the name of that classical piece that was playing after the lights went out?" From Mrfury28 at aol.com Tue Dec 28 23:27:03 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Tue Dec 28 23:27:09 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: Hodges, Nicola and Michael Message-ID: <9.3a536286.2f038c17@aol.com> Nicola looked over the railing down into the flights below and nodded. "Also, we'll be able to pick up Mr. Hodges's rifle or whatever firearms you might have, Wing Commander. I don't want running in and yelling huzzah to be our only defense against an armed burglar." "Miss Douglas is correct, that certainly would not be the best way to catch the culprit should it not prove to be a Mortmain resident." Hodges agreed. He led the way down the stairwell towards Flat No. 1. -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041228/1b1b511b/attachment.htm From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 29 05:26:23 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 29 05:26:30 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body References: <20041227230300.1876.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com><41D097E8.4000301@textartisan.com> <015301c4ec6e$2e9c7620$0202a8c0@Behemoth><009a01c4ecd9$44507b40$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D16C53.7010405@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <003601c4ed90$d9058e30$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Missed this one yesterday ... >> Lucinda reported the findings. > > "The fork isn't scratched at all, is it?" Pamela asked, looking up from > her work. "I was only thinking... the murderer, to keep from tearing up > his hands on whatever he used... could have wrapped the ends 'round a > tuning fork and turned it... a sort of makeshift garrote, I suppose. But > it would take awful presence of mind to do such a thing. I daresay I'm > quite wrong." From her tone, she certainly hoped so. > "No," Lucinda reported, after careful examination. "No marks at all." >> "Are there any needle marks on her arms?" she asked. >> >> There were, both Pamela and Tabitha could see - but none showed signs of >> being infected. >> >> "Perhaps we should look in her handbag," suggested Lucinda. > > "Perhaps you'd do that? If you don't mind," said Pamela. "We'd make > something of a mess. Now, I wonder... marking her arms, it can't have been > good for her career... I heard some wretched stories from one young > man..." Carefully, Pamela pulled at the lashes of Nola's left eye, upper > and lower, to examine the skin beneath for lesions. > There were no signs of lesions. It appeared Nola had not progressed to this stage of abuse yet. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 29 06:04:11 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 29 06:04:12 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge References: <20041228233533.38021.qmail@web20222.mail.yahoo.com> <00c101c4ed37$194da680$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> <41D1F721.4020705@elfworks.com><41D1FE78.2090703@elfworks.com> <41D1FFDD.3000905@mindspring.com> Message-ID: <004101c4ed96$20a3f5b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >>>> "HEY!" Marjorie yelled from the bar. She was flushed, half panicked >>>> looking. "When did she die!? Was it during the lights out? Cause... >>>> how would the killer know there was going to be a lights out!? We >>>> oughta figure that out before we scatter like pigeons." >>>> >>>> "That is true," admitted Richard. "It might have been a crime of >>>> opportunity, but it might have been planned... But why during a party?" >>> >>> "Cause people are busy talking to people, and drinking." >>> Marjorie held up her glass. "And not paying attention to >>> everyone else." >>> >>> "Maybe.... maybe the killer knew there was a UXB outside!" >>> Marjorie continued. "And called the disposal unit! Maybe >>> that's how the killer could have known there'd be a lights out! We >>> ought to find out how they knew about the bomb!" >> > James looked at Marjorie. "Or the killer timed matters to work under > cover of darkness. But you are right, with everyone up here for a party, > its doubly the perfect opportunity." > > "Which reinforces the idea that its someone from inside the building." > James continued. > "I doubt the killer could stage a UXB," said Oswald. "Certainly noty one that would keep us all trapped in this building for so long. But a light showing - one that would alert the ARP patrolling the streets - that would be much easier. "Miss Higgins, you are closest. If you can do so without causing a light to show yet again, can you see what kind of tear it is in the blackout material?" From jvstin at mindspring.com Wed Dec 29 06:04:28 2004 From: jvstin at mindspring.com (Jvstin(Mindspring)) Date: Wed Dec 29 06:04:37 2004 Subject: [MaC] Seperations: Oswald, Marion, James and Anton Message-ID: <41D28F3C.4000805@mindspring.com> (OOC: I haven't seen anyone else do one, so I decided to start it) The party then separated in different directions - Hodges, Michael and Nicola to check all the flats (OOC - starting at the top or the bottom?); Oswald, Marion, James and Anton to go down to the Skeffington-Nottles' flat to question Anton; Richard, Vangie, Esme and Arabella to Vangie's flat (OOC - where they'll encounter the other three, of course), and Marty, Glorence and Marhorie remaining in the flat - close to the investigation that was going on in Anton's flat. James walked over to Anton and put a hand on his shoulder. Quietly, he explained the plan again to Anton in Polish. He then tapped his shoulder to bid Anton to rise, to lead them downstairs to his flat. The officer for the rationing board swiveled his head and his gaze to Oswald and Marion to ensure that they were following the two of them downstairs. {Tag Oswald, Marion, Anton} From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 29 06:31:04 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 29 06:31:04 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat References: <008f01c4ed18$a8380c60$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><020401c4ed2e$18e02dc0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><00ea01c4ed2e$5a37a050$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><6.2.0.14.0.20041228204204.03c805e8@mail.cac.net><02a001c4ed4c$84475020$0202a8c0@Behemoth><015201c4ed4f$4df35b10$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> <001b01c4ed50$946cee70$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> Message-ID: <005701c4ed99$e257ca80$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> Richard helped support Esme, while they made their way to the flat. >> >> "Perhaps some tea," he said, looking up at the doawager with a raised >> eyebrow. "That's good for a lady's nerves, no?" He gave her a crooked >> smile. >> "I'm afraid I was always shooed out when my mother took to fainting or >> such." >> > > "Did it happen often?" Arabella asked dryly. "As for tea, I think it a > splendid idea. For all of us..." As soon as they walked into the flat, they saw Cyril Beaman and Braham Davis standing somewhat nervously near the door of the lounge, eying Sweetie, who was watching them malevolently from the sofa, his striped tail swaying slowly with something of a cobra's menace. Of Philip there was no sign - and then came a clatter from the bathroom that suggested someone's presence there. From windeaglebjm at yahoo.com Wed Dec 29 06:47:45 2004 From: windeaglebjm at yahoo.com (Brenda McCartney) Date: Wed Dec 29 06:47:49 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat In-Reply-To: <005701c4ed99$e257ca80$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <20041229114745.74118.qmail@web50707.mail.yahoo.com> --- Mel Mason wrote: > >> Richard helped support Esme, while they made their way to the > flat. > >> > >> "Perhaps some tea," he said, looking up at the doawager with a > raised > >> eyebrow. "That's good for a lady's nerves, no?" He gave her a > crooked > >> smile. > >> "I'm afraid I was always shooed out when my mother took to > fainting or > >> such." > >> > > > > "Did it happen often?" Arabella asked dryly. "As for tea, I think > it a > > splendid idea. For all of us..." > > As soon as they walked into the flat, they saw Cyril Beaman and > Braham Davis > standing somewhat nervously near the door of the lounge, eying > Sweetie, who > was watching them malevolently from the sofa, his striped tail > swaying > slowly with something of a cobra's menace. Of Philip there was no > sign - > and then came a clatter from the bathroom that suggested someone's > presence > there. "Evening, ladies, sir," Cyril greeted them over his shoulder, his eyes only briefly leaving the cat. "We were just waiting for Phillip to re-bandage his hand. He tore the dressing on the rubble outside. How are things upstairs?" __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around http://mail.yahoo.com From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 29 07:11:06 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 29 07:11:01 2004 Subject: [MaC] Seperations: Oswald, Marion, James and Anton References: <41D28F3C.4000805@mindspring.com> Message-ID: <006d01c4ed9f$79c6c830$0202a8c0@Behemoth> > The party then separated in different directions - Hodges, Michael and > Nicola to check all the flats (OOC - starting at the top or the bottom?); > Oswald, Marion, James and Anton to go down to the Skeffington-Nottles' > flat to question Anton; Richard, Vangie, Esme and Arabella to Vangie's > flat (OOC - where they'll encounter the other three, of course), and > Marty, Glorence and Marhorie remaining in the flat - close to the > investigation that was going on in Anton's flat. > > James walked over to Anton and put a hand on his shoulder. Quietly, he > explained the plan again to Anton in Polish. He then tapped his shoulder > to bid Anton to rise, to lead them downstairs to his flat. > > The officer for the rationing board swiveled his head and his gaze to > Oswald and Marion to ensure that they were following the two of them > downstairs. > Oswald moved forward and indicated the lounge. "Just make yourselves comfortavle," he told them. "Can I get anyone a drink?" "Please," said Anton. He still looked shaken. "A small cognac." From rpruehs at Itctransco.com Wed Dec 29 07:15:39 2004 From: rpruehs at Itctransco.com (Pruehs, Ree M.) Date: Wed Dec 29 07:15:20 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat Message-ID: > >> Richard helped support Esme, while they made their way to the flat. > >> > >> "Perhaps some tea," he said, looking up at the doawager > with a raised > >> eyebrow. "That's good for a lady's nerves, no?" He gave > her a crooked > >> smile. "I'm afraid I was always shooed out when my mother took to > >> fainting or such." > >> > > > > "Did it happen often?" Arabella asked dryly. "As for tea, I > think it a > > splendid idea. For all of us..." "Tea it is," Vangie said firmly. > As soon as they walked into the flat, they saw Cyril Beaman > and Braham Davis > standing somewhat nervously near the door of the lounge, > eying Sweetie, who > was watching them malevolently from the sofa, his striped > tail swaying > slowly with something of a cobra's menace. Of Philip there > was no sign - > and then came a clatter from the bathroom that suggested > someone's presence > there. "What," Vangie demanded, "are you gentlemen doing =here?= ...well, tea for a few more, I always say, is no more trouble than for a few..." She disappeared into the kitchen. From jadethe2nd at yahoo.com Wed Dec 29 07:16:19 2004 From: jadethe2nd at yahoo.com (Jade) Date: Wed Dec 29 07:16:23 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body In-Reply-To: Message-ID: <20041229121619.87918.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com> > > Lucinda was looking at Tabitha and her movements > rather thoughtfully. > > > > "I think," she said slowly, "that once Miss Rosen > is satisfied, then we > > should just cover the poor woman decently and lock > the room as best we can." > > > > She was still looking at Tabitha, and there seemed > to be an unspoken > > question hovering in the air. "Was it ... Was she > ... " "Was." Tabitha took a deep breath and exhaled sharply before continuing. "Definitely... was." She cleared her throat and stood up. "She's had an abortion," she said shortly. "Fairly recently. It went wrong; so wrong it probably would've killed her soon if she didn't have it seen to. I can't find anything else, so if you'll excuse me..." And with that she exited the room rather hurriedly. She leaned against the wall outside and tried to calm herself. __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around http://mail.yahoo.com From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 29 07:18:04 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 29 07:17:56 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body References: <20041228225750.95030.qmail@web60808.mail.yahoo.com><41D1EBE1.3080801@textartisan.com> <41D1ED50.4080908@textartisan.com><026001c4ed3f$bbefe440$0202a8c0@Behemoth><41D21525.1040507@textartisan.com><02ad01c4ed4f$9e0dcb80$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <007101c4eda0$730452f0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> Lucinda was looking at Tabitha and her movements rather thoughtfully. >> >> "I think," she said slowly, "that once Miss Rosen is satisfied, then we >> should just cover the poor woman decently and lock the room as best we >> can." >> >> She was still looking at Tabitha, and there seemed to be an unspoken >> question hovering in the air. "Was it ... Was she ... " > > Warren puttered over to the gramophone; he examined the record > label, frowning a little. > > "I'm afraid I'm not an expert on music," he said. "Does anyone > know the name of that classical piece that was playing after > the lights went out?" > "It was Liszt," said Lucinda. "Liebestraum, I believe." That was the same name as the label on the record on the gramophone. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 29 07:22:43 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 29 07:22:41 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: Hodges, Nicola and Michael References: <9.3a536286.2f038c17@aol.com> Message-ID: <007e01c4eda1$1914d610$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Nicola looked over the railing down into the flights below and nodded. "Also, we'll be able to pick up Mr. Hodges's rifle or whatever firearms you might have, Wing Commander. I don't want running in and yelling huzzah to be our only defense against an armed burglar." "Miss Douglas is correct, that certainly would not be the best way to catch the culprit should it not prove to be a Mortmain resident." Hodges agreed. He led the way down the stairwell towards Flat No. 1. There was no-one in his flat - although Hodges was able to produce his somewhat elderly Home Guard rifle*. The other flats on this floor belonged to the Countess and her daughter, the Wing Commander, and Miss Marjorie Higgins. (OOC - which would you like to look at first? If you give me an order, I'll give you information for each). * The Home Guard didn't have hand guns - and I'm not sure they were allowed to take their rifles home ... but we'll say they did. Does Hodges have any other guns? From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 29 08:33:19 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 29 08:33:10 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations - Still in the Lounge References: <008f01c4ed18$a8380c60$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><020401c4ed2e$18e02dc0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><00ea01c4ed2e$5a37a050$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <6.2.0.14.0.20041228204204.03c805e8@mail.cac.net><02a001c4ed4c$84475020$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D21C5E.4030409@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <009e01c4edaa$f5dc1140$0202a8c0@Behemoth> As the others left Marjorie came from around the bar, nearly limping. "My feet are just worn out..." she said as she came around to sit on the couch closest to the bar. "I'm not going anywhere for a while." "Terrible thing about Miss Diamond, though." Marjorie looked up at Fitzroy. "How long you know her for?" she asked the agent. "Three years she's been my client," said Marty Fitzroy. A noise from beyond the open service door seemed to draw his attention, and he looked up sharply, and then walked to the door. From dorothea at textartisan.com Wed Dec 29 09:03:30 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Wed Dec 29 09:05:32 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body In-Reply-To: <20041229121619.87918.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com> References: <20041229121619.87918.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <41D2B932.5010303@textartisan.com> > "Was." Tabitha took a deep breath and exhaled sharply > before continuing. "Definitely... was." She cleared > her throat and stood up. "She's had an abortion," she > said shortly. "Fairly recently. It went wrong; so > wrong it probably would've killed her soon if she > didn't have it seen to. I can't find anything else, so > if you'll excuse me..." And with that she exited the > room rather hurriedly. > > She leaned against the wall outside and tried to calm herself. Pamela crumpled again, shaking hands doing further damage to her hairdo. "How... utterly *horrid*..." But before anyone could come near to offer comfort, she bounced out of her chair and snatched up her apron and Nola's lovely green dress. "That wretched Fitzroy fellow," she positively snarled, checking that the dress's fastenings were loose preparatory to replacing it on Nola's body. "A murderer if ever there was one, and yet *he'll* not go up before a court." She worked neatly and energetically, defying the body's weight and rigour to tug and work the dress on. After smoothing Nola's hair carefully, she stepped back and shook her head. "Best I can do, and that little enough," she said with regret. "I'll just step into the kitchen and wash up. Could you kindly look after Tabitha, Mrs. Skeffington-Nottle? I daresay she won't want to see *me*." From faespinner at yahoo.com Wed Dec 29 10:26:23 2004 From: faespinner at yahoo.com (Tara Kunkel) Date: Wed Dec 29 10:26:54 2004 Subject: [MaC] Breaking the news In-Reply-To: <20041229020557.95594.qmail@web50702.mail.yahoo.com> References: <026401c4ed40$08c7acd0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <5.1.0.14.0.20041229102147.027d3ea8@pop.mail.yahoo.com> At 09:05 PM 12/28/2004, you wrote: >--- Mel Mason wrote: > > > >> It was agreed then that the three should call in at Mrs > > >> Evans' flat on the way back up to the party. > > >> > > >> This, of course, meant that they came face to face with > > >> Sweetie, who was stretched out on the sofa. He looked up > > >> coldly at the unwarranted intrusion. > > > > > > "Right, gents," Philip said, very seriously. "I'm going to try to get > back > > > to the bath, which is where I keep the gauze. I'd keep from getting any > > > closer to the cat, and try to avoid any sudden movements. Wish me luck." > > > Suiting deed to word, he began moving, stealthily, towards the bathroom > > > door, his eyes fixed on the cat. Normally Braham liked cats. He had even taken to feeding the strays that lived around the University when he was home. Something about this particular cat made him a bit nervous however. The impulse to laugh at the Officer's remark was instantly swallowed up in those cold eyes. Instead he swallowed hard and nodded very slowly. > > Sweetie watched his endeavours with some contempt. When Philip reached > the > > most vulnerable point of his progress, he yawned widely, and then set to > > work at cleaning his claws with a series of vicious tugging bites. There > > was a strange sense that he was preparing his weapons. > >Cyril leaned over to Braham as he watched Phillip make his way around >the cat. "That cat's a bloody menace, he is," Cyril commented softly. >"You can hear it yowling all the way upstairs at night. Louder than >the air raid sirens sometimes." Braham nodded. "I had come to believe this apartment may be haunted," he said. "Now I know for sure it is. Something wicked this way comes..." From faespinner at yahoo.com Wed Dec 29 10:30:18 2004 From: faespinner at yahoo.com (Tara Kunkel) Date: Wed Dec 29 10:30:50 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat In-Reply-To: Message-ID: <5.1.0.14.0.20041229102714.02898da8@pop.mail.yahoo.com> > > As soon as they walked into the flat, they saw Cyril Beaman > > and Braham Davis > > standing somewhat nervously near the door of the lounge, > > eying Sweetie, who > > was watching them malevolently from the sofa, his striped > > tail swaying > > slowly with something of a cobra's menace. Of Philip there > > was no sign - > > and then came a clatter from the bathroom that suggested > > someone's presence > > there. > >"What," Vangie demanded, "are you gentlemen doing =here?= ...well, tea >for a few more, I always say, is no more trouble than for a few..." She >disappeared into the kitchen. >"Evening, ladies, sir," Cyril greeted them over his shoulder, his eyes >only briefly leaving the cat. "We were just waiting for Phillip to >re-bandage his hand. He tore the dressing on the rubble outside. How >are things upstairs?" Braham simply nodded a salutation, his eyes never leave the cat. He did move slightly off to the side, to give the others room to enter. Briefly he wondered who would be the first to brave the feline. Certainly it would not be him. At this moment he would rather take his chances with the murderer. From Mrfury28 at aol.com Wed Dec 29 10:38:55 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Wed Dec 29 10:39:06 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: Hodges, Nicola and Michael Message-ID: <148.3aec1f0b.2f04298f@aol.com> There was no-one in his flat - although Hodges was able to produce his somewhat elderly Home Guard rifle. The other flats on this floor belonged to the Countess and her daughter, the Wing Commander, and Miss Marjorie Higgins. Hodges checked and loaded a shell into the chamber of the old rifle, shouldered it for the march and turned to the others after an inspection of his own flat. "Shall we proceed in order then?" He asked, leading the way to Flat No 2. -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041229/6f68fbd4/attachment-0001.htm From kcunningham40 at comcast.net Wed Dec 29 11:10:03 2004 From: kcunningham40 at comcast.net (Katie Fulton) Date: Wed Dec 29 11:10:17 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat References: Message-ID: <00fb01c4edc0$dc557bb0$2200000a@FrontDesk> > As soon as they walked into the flat, they saw Cyril Beaman > and Braham Davis > standing somewhat nervously near the door of the lounge, > eying Sweetie, who > was watching them malevolently from the sofa, his striped > tail swaying > slowly with something of a cobra's menace. Of Philip there > was no sign - > and then came a clatter from the bathroom that suggested > someone's presence > there. "What," Vangie demanded, "are you gentlemen doing =here?= ...well, tea for a few more, I always say, is no more trouble than for a few..." She disappeared into the kitchen. >"Evening, ladies, sir," Cyril greeted them over his shoulder, his eyes >only briefly leaving the cat. "We were just waiting for Phillip to >re-bandage his hand. He tore the dressing on the rubble outside. How >are things upstairs?" Braham simply nodded a salutation, his eyes never leave the cat. He did move slightly off to the side, to give the others room to enter. Briefly he wondered who would be the first to brave the feline. Certainly it would not be him. At this moment he would rather take his chances with the murderer. "Calming," said Richard as he lead Esme to a settee. "It seems our temper flares have coolled a bit. Everyone is splitting up, searching, theorizing..." He motioned at the kitchen. "Getting tea." It was then he noticed Sweetie, and the two little balls of hate one might call eyes staring him down. He gave the cat a rictus grin. "How are things down here?" From faespinner at yahoo.com Wed Dec 29 12:09:55 2004 From: faespinner at yahoo.com (Tara Kunkel) Date: Wed Dec 29 12:10:20 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat In-Reply-To: <00fb01c4edc0$dc557bb0$2200000a@FrontDesk> References: Message-ID: <5.1.0.14.0.20041229120626.027fcf68@pop.mail.yahoo.com> > >"Evening, ladies, sir," Cyril greeted them over his shoulder, his eyes > >only briefly leaving the cat. "We were just waiting for Phillip to > >re-bandage his hand. He tore the dressing on the rubble outside. How > >are things upstairs?" > >Braham simply nodded a salutation, his eyes never leave the cat. He did >move slightly off to the side, to give the others room to enter. Briefly he >wondered who would be the first to brave the feline. Certainly it would not >be him. At this moment he would rather take his chances with the murderer. > >"Calming," said Richard as he lead Esme to a settee. "It seems our temper >flares have coolled a bit. Everyone is splitting up, searching, >theorizing..." He motioned at the kitchen. "Getting tea." > >It was then he noticed Sweetie, and the two little balls of hate one might >call eyes staring him down. He gave the cat a rictus grin. > >"How are things down here?" Braham held his ground by the door, "Well I'm afraid the Warden was not much help. He sounded as if the whole matter was a nuisance that we should be able to resolve ourselves." He shrugged. "I asked that he notify the police since we are not allowed to leave the building. I suppose we'll just have to bide our time and hope word gets to them in a timely manner. "Beyond that, things are calm enough. Officer Powell just needed fresh dressing on his wound." From margdean56 at operamail.com Wed Dec 29 12:11:13 2004 From: margdean56 at operamail.com (Margaret Dean) Date: Wed Dec 29 12:11:17 2004 Subject: [MaC] Seperations: Oswald, Marion, James and Anton Message-ID: <20041229171114.5492721B32F@ws5-6.us4.outblaze.com> > > > The party then separated in different directions - Hodges, > > Michael and Nicola to check all the flats (OOC - starting at the > > top or the bottom?); Oswald, Marion, James and Anton to go down > > to the Skeffington-Nottles' flat to question Anton; Richard, > > Vangie, Esme and Arabella to Vangie's flat (OOC - where they'll > > encounter the other three, of course), and Marty, Glorence and > > Marhorie remaining in the flat - close to the investigation that > > was going on in Anton's flat. > > > > James walked over to Anton and put a hand on his shoulder. > > Quietly, he explained the plan again to Anton in Polish. He then > > tapped his shoulder to bid Anton to rise, to lead them downstairs > > to his flat. > > > > The officer for the rationing board swiveled his head and his > > gaze to Oswald and Marion to ensure that they were following the > > two of them downstairs. > > > > Oswald moved forward and indicated the lounge. "Just make > yourselves comfortavle," he told them. "Can I get anyone a drink?" > > "Please," said Anton. He still looked shaken. "A small cognac." Marion looked almost longingly at the bottles, but shook her head. "I'd better not. This would not be the time for me to be laid low with a migraine," she explained. --Margaret Dean -- _____________________________________________________________ Web-based SMS services available at http://www.operamail.com. From your mailbox to local or overseas cell phones. Powered by Outblaze From kris.kunkel at gmail.com Wed Dec 29 12:48:07 2004 From: kris.kunkel at gmail.com (Knave of Amber) Date: Wed Dec 29 12:48:10 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: Hodges, Nicola and Michael In-Reply-To: <148.3aec1f0b.2f04298f@aol.com> References: <148.3aec1f0b.2f04298f@aol.com> Message-ID: <3b089f7c041229094858da3397@mail.gmail.com> On Wed, 29 Dec 2004 10:38:55 EST, Mrfury28@aol.com wrote: > There was no-one in his flat - although Hodges was able to produce his > somewhat elderly Home Guard rifle. > > The other flats on this floor belonged to the Countess and her daughter, the > Wing Commander, and Miss Marjorie Higgins. > Hodges checked and loaded a shell into the chamber of the old rifle, > shouldered it for the march and turned to the others after an inspection of > his own flat. "Shall we proceed in order then?" He asked, leading the way > to Flat No 2. "If you don't mind, perhaps my flat next, so I might recover my sidearm," Michael suggests. From veazeyae at gmail.com Wed Dec 29 13:05:00 2004 From: veazeyae at gmail.com (Allen Veazey) Date: Wed Dec 29 13:05:03 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body In-Reply-To: <41D2B932.5010303@textartisan.com> References: <20041229121619.87918.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com> <41D2B932.5010303@textartisan.com> Message-ID: > She worked neatly and energetically, defying the body's weight and > rigour to tug and work the dress on. After smoothing Nola's hair > carefully, she stepped back and shook her head. "Best I can do, and that > little enough," she said with regret. "I'll just step into the kitchen > and wash up. Could you kindly look after Tabitha, Mrs. > Skeffington-Nottle? I daresay she won't want to see *me*." Warren turned away as Nola was being examined and dressed; it was hard to tell if it was courtesy or sqeamishness that caused him to do so. Instead, he had his attention on the floor. He shook his head. "How utterly peculiar," he said. "Miss Diamond... drug use, you say? An abortion? I am very sorry to hear that..." He looked in the direction of the other room. "I wonder what our Mister Barowenski saw." From rpruehs at Itctransco.com Wed Dec 29 14:11:52 2004 From: rpruehs at Itctransco.com (Pruehs, Ree M.) Date: Wed Dec 29 14:11:33 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat Message-ID: > > >"Evening, ladies, sir," Cyril greeted them over his shoulder, his > > >eyes only briefly leaving the cat. "We were just waiting > for Phillip > > >to re-bandage his hand. He tore the dressing on the > rubble outside. > > >How are things upstairs?" > > > >Braham simply nodded a salutation, his eyes never leave the > cat. He did > >move slightly off to the side, to give the others room to enter. > >Briefly he wondered who would be the first to brave the feline. > >Certainly it would not be him. At this moment he would > rather take his > >chances with the murderer. > > > >"Calming," said Richard as he lead Esme to a settee. "It seems our > >temper flares have coolled a bit. Everyone is splitting up, > searching, > >theorizing..." He motioned at the kitchen. "Getting tea." > > > >It was then he noticed Sweetie, and the two little balls of hate one > >might call eyes staring him down. He gave the cat a rictus grin. > > > >"How are things down here?" > > Braham held his ground by the door, "Well I'm afraid the > Warden was not > much help. He sounded as if the whole matter was a nuisance > that we should > be able to resolve ourselves." He shrugged. "I asked that he > notify the > police since we are not allowed to leave the building. I > suppose we'll just > have to bide our time and hope word gets to them in a timely manner. > > "Beyond that, things are calm enough. Officer Powell just > needed fresh > dressing on his wound." Vangie came back into the room carrying a tray with a plate of assorted cookies and a stack of small plates just in time to hear this last. "What wound?" From faespinner at yahoo.com Wed Dec 29 14:30:03 2004 From: faespinner at yahoo.com (Tara Kunkel) Date: Wed Dec 29 14:30:30 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat In-Reply-To: Message-ID: <5.1.0.14.0.20041229142634.0295e208@pop.mail.yahoo.com> > > >"How are things down here?" > > > > Braham held his ground by the door, "Well I'm afraid the > > Warden was not > > much help. He sounded as if the whole matter was a nuisance > > that we should > > be able to resolve ourselves." He shrugged. "I asked that he > > notify the > > police since we are not allowed to leave the building. I > > suppose we'll just > > have to bide our time and hope word gets to them in a timely manner. > > > > "Beyond that, things are calm enough. Officer Powell just > > needed fresh > > dressing on his wound." > >Vangie came back into the room carrying a tray with a plate of assorted >cookies and a stack of small plates just in time to hear this last. >"What wound?" "The old one," Braham replied. Though not feeling a need to go into much detail he added, "He caught his hand on the doorjamb as we re-entered the building. It seems to have aggravated the healing process." Feeling a bit safer with Evangeline in the room, he ventured beyond the doorway towards the sitting area. "Is there something I can be of help with?" he asked sincerely. From rpruehs at Itctransco.com Wed Dec 29 14:38:32 2004 From: rpruehs at Itctransco.com (Pruehs, Ree M.) Date: Wed Dec 29 14:38:17 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) Message-ID: > > > >"How are things down here?" > > > > > > Braham held his ground by the door, "Well I'm afraid the > Warden was > > > not much help. He sounded as if the whole matter was a nuisance > > > that we should > > > be able to resolve ourselves." He shrugged. "I asked that he > > > notify the > > > police since we are not allowed to leave the building. I > > > suppose we'll just > > > have to bide our time and hope word gets to them in a > timely manner. > > > > > > "Beyond that, things are calm enough. Officer Powell just needed > > > fresh dressing on his wound." > > > >Vangie came back into the room carrying a tray with a plate > of assorted > >biscuits, a sliced small cake and a stack of small plates just in time to hear this last. > >"What wound?" > > "The old one," Braham replied. Though not feeling a need to > go into much > detail he added, "He caught his hand on the doorjamb as we > re-entered the > building. It seems to have aggravated the healing process." > > Feeling a bit safer with Evangeline in the room, he ventured > beyond the > doorway towards the sitting area. "Is there something I can > be of help > with?" he asked sincerely. "Have a biscuit," Vangie said cheerfully. "Or a piece of cake. Made it myself this morning, sugarless =and= eggless. I've got the kettle on." [ooc: Please forgive the unintended Americanism. That was me not thinking rather than something intended as a Clue.] She went across to the bathroom door and tapped firmly on it. "Philip! Do you need anything?" From windeaglebjm at yahoo.com Wed Dec 29 15:35:28 2004 From: windeaglebjm at yahoo.com (Brenda McCartney) Date: Wed Dec 29 15:35:32 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) In-Reply-To: Message-ID: <20041229203528.17214.qmail@web50701.mail.yahoo.com> --- "Pruehs, Ree M." wrote: > > > > >"How are things down here?" > > > > > > > > Braham held his ground by the door, "Well I'm afraid the > > Warden was > > > > not much help. He sounded as if the whole matter was a nuisance > > > > that we should > > > > be able to resolve ourselves." He shrugged. "I asked that he > > > > notify the > > > > police since we are not allowed to leave the building. I > > > > suppose we'll just > > > > have to bide our time and hope word gets to them in a > > timely manner. > > > > > > > > "Beyond that, things are calm enough. Officer Powell just > needed > > > > fresh dressing on his wound." > > > > > >Vangie came back into the room carrying a tray with a plate > > of assorted > > >biscuits, a sliced small cake and a stack of small plates just in > time to hear this last. > > >"What wound?" > > > > "The old one," Braham replied. Though not feeling a need to > > go into much > > detail he added, "He caught his hand on the doorjamb as we > > re-entered the > > building. It seems to have aggravated the healing process." > > > > Feeling a bit safer with Evangeline in the room, he ventured > > beyond the > > doorway towards the sitting area. "Is there something I can > > be of help > > with?" he asked sincerely. > > "Have a biscuit," Vangie said cheerfully. "Or a piece of cake. Made > it > myself this morning, sugarless =and= eggless. I've got the kettle > on." > > [ooc: Please forgive the unintended Americanism. That was me not > thinking rather than something intended as a Clue.] > > She went across to the bathroom door and tapped firmly on it. > "Philip! > Do you need anything?" While Evangeline checked on Phillip, Cyril moved to the tea service and offered, "Would any of you care for some tea? I'll pour out." He looked at Richard, Arabella and Braham in turn. However, his glance lingered on Arabella a moment longer than the men. __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Read only the mail you want - Yahoo! Mail SpamGuard. http://promotions.yahoo.com/new_mail From nowsounds at comcast.net Wed Dec 29 15:42:05 2004 From: nowsounds at comcast.net (Nowsounds) Date: Wed Dec 29 15:42:12 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) References: <20041229203528.17214.qmail@web50701.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <001101c4ede6$dbf230c0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> >> >> "Have a biscuit," Vangie said cheerfully. "Or a piece of cake. Made >> it >> myself this morning, sugarless =and= eggless. I've got the kettle >> on." >> She went across to the bathroom door and tapped firmly on it. >> "Philip! >> Do you need anything?" > > While Evangeline checked on Phillip, Cyril moved to the tea service and > offered, "Would any of you care for some tea? I'll pour out." He > looked at Richard, Arabella and Braham in turn. However, his glance > lingered on Arabella a moment longer than the men. "I should like some, Mr.Beaman," the dowager said with a pleasant smile. "Sweet, please." She reached for a biscuit as well, then said to the others, "Mrs. Evans makes a rather good wartime cake. You hardly notice what isn't in it, because the rest comes together so well." From Brian.Schoner at BellSouth.com Wed Dec 29 16:07:53 2004 From: Brian.Schoner at BellSouth.com (Schoner, Brian) Date: Wed Dec 29 16:08:31 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) Message-ID: <272200DA1F3BC5418E2C925D433BAEE30A27B4@01al10015010153.ad.bls.com> > She went across to the bathroom door and tapped firmly on it. > "Philip! Do you need anything?" "No, thank you," came Philip's voice. "Just...about...done!" And indeed, moments later, he stepped out of the bathroom with fresh bandages wrapped more or less neatly around his right hand. Seeing the newcomers to the flat, he smiled somewhat uncertainly. "Quite the gathering we have here! Is everything all right -- I mean, considering the circumstances?" ***** The information transmitted is intended only for the person or entity to which it is addressed and may contain confidential, proprietary, and/or privileged material. Any review, retransmission, dissemination or other use of, or taking of any action in reliance upon this information by persons or entities other than the intended recipient is prohibited. If you received this in error, please contact the sender and delete the material from all computers. 162 From melmason at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 29 16:26:11 2004 From: melmason at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 29 16:26:02 2004 Subject: [MaC] Murder_at_Christmas Digest, Vol 1, Issue 47 References: <200412291945.BPI79333@c2bthimr01.btconnect.com> Message-ID: <01c801c4eded$04ded140$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Send murder_at_christmas mailing list submissions to murder_at_christmas@gamera.cc To subscribe or unsubscribe via the World Wide Web, visit http://gamera.cc/mailman/listinfo/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc or, via email, send a message with subject or body 'help' to murder_at_christmas-request@gamera.cc You can reach the person managing the list at murder_at_christmas-owner@gamera.cc When replying, please edit your Subject line so it is more specific than "Re: Contents of murder_at_christmas digest..." Today's Topics: 1. Re: Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (Katie Fulton) 2. Re: Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (Tara Kunkel) 3. Re: Seperations: Oswald, Marion, James and Anton (Margaret Dean) 4. Re: Separations: Hodges, Nicola and Michael (Knave of Amber) 5. Re: Examining the body (Allen Veazey) 6. RE: Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (Pruehs, Ree M.) 7. RE: Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (Tara Kunkel) 8. RE: Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) (Pruehs, Ree M.) 9. RE: Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) (Brenda McCartney) 10. Re: Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) (Nowsounds) ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Message: 1 Date: Wed, 29 Dec 2004 11:10:03 -0500 From: "Katie Fulton" Subject: Re: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat > As soon as they walked into the flat, they saw Cyril Beaman > and Braham Davis > standing somewhat nervously near the door of the lounge, > eying Sweetie, who > was watching them malevolently from the sofa, his striped > tail swaying > slowly with something of a cobra's menace. Of Philip there > was no sign - > and then came a clatter from the bathroom that suggested > someone's presence > there. "What," Vangie demanded, "are you gentlemen doing =here?= ...well, tea for a few more, I always say, is no more trouble than for a few..." She disappeared into the kitchen. >"Evening, ladies, sir," Cyril greeted them over his shoulder, his eyes >only briefly leaving the cat. "We were just waiting for Phillip to >re-bandage his hand. He tore the dressing on the rubble outside. How >are things upstairs?" Braham simply nodded a salutation, his eyes never leave the cat. He did move slightly off to the side, to give the others room to enter. Briefly he wondered who would be the first to brave the feline. Certainly it would not be him. At this moment he would rather take his chances with the murderer. "Calming," said Richard as he lead Esme to a settee. "It seems our temper flares have coolled a bit. Everyone is splitting up, searching, theorizing..." He motioned at the kitchen. "Getting tea." It was then he noticed Sweetie, and the two little balls of hate one might call eyes staring him down. He gave the cat a rictus grin. "How are things down here?" ------------------------------ Message: 2 Date: Wed, 29 Dec 2004 12:09:55 -0500 From: Tara Kunkel Subject: Re: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat > >"Evening, ladies, sir," Cyril greeted them over his shoulder, his eyes > >only briefly leaving the cat. "We were just waiting for Phillip to > >re-bandage his hand. He tore the dressing on the rubble outside. How > >are things upstairs?" > >Braham simply nodded a salutation, his eyes never leave the cat. He did >move slightly off to the side, to give the others room to enter. Briefly he >wondered who would be the first to brave the feline. Certainly it would not >be him. At this moment he would rather take his chances with the murderer. > >"Calming," said Richard as he lead Esme to a settee. "It seems our temper >flares have coolled a bit. Everyone is splitting up, searching, >theorizing..." He motioned at the kitchen. "Getting tea." > >It was then he noticed Sweetie, and the two little balls of hate one might >call eyes staring him down. He gave the cat a rictus grin. > >"How are things down here?" Braham held his ground by the door, "Well I'm afraid the Warden was not much help. He sounded as if the whole matter was a nuisance that we should be able to resolve ourselves." He shrugged. "I asked that he notify the police since we are not allowed to leave the building. I suppose we'll just have to bide our time and hope word gets to them in a timely manner. "Beyond that, things are calm enough. Officer Powell just needed fresh dressing on his wound." ------------------------------ Message: 3 Date: Wed, 29 Dec 2004 18:11:13 +0100 From: "Margaret Dean" Subject: Re: [MaC] Seperations: Oswald, Marion, James and Anton > > > The party then separated in different directions - Hodges, > > Michael and Nicola to check all the flats (OOC - starting at the > > top or the bottom?); Oswald, Marion, James and Anton to go down > > to the Skeffington-Nottles' flat to question Anton; Richard, > > Vangie, Esme and Arabella to Vangie's flat (OOC - where they'll > > encounter the other three, of course), and Marty, Glorence and > > Marhorie remaining in the flat - close to the investigation that > > was going on in Anton's flat. > > > > James walked over to Anton and put a hand on his shoulder. > > Quietly, he explained the plan again to Anton in Polish. He then > > tapped his shoulder to bid Anton to rise, to lead them downstairs > > to his flat. > > > > The officer for the rationing board swiveled his head and his > > gaze to Oswald and Marion to ensure that they were following the > > two of them downstairs. > > > > Oswald moved forward and indicated the lounge. "Just make > yourselves comfortavle," he told them. "Can I get anyone a drink?" > > "Please," said Anton. He still looked shaken. "A small cognac." Marion looked almost longingly at the bottles, but shook her head. "I'd better not. This would not be the time for me to be laid low with a migraine," she explained. --Margaret Dean ------------------------------ Message: 4 Date: Wed, 29 Dec 2004 09:48:07 -0800 From: Knave of Amber Subject: Re: [MaC] Separations: Hodges, Nicola and Michael > There was no-one in his flat - although Hodges was able to produce his > somewhat elderly Home Guard rifle. > > The other flats on this floor belonged to the Countess and her daughter, > the > Wing Commander, and Miss Marjorie Higgins. > Hodges checked and loaded a shell into the chamber of the old rifle, > shouldered it for the march and turned to the others after an inspection > of > his own flat. "Shall we proceed in order then?" He asked, leading the > way > to Flat No 2. "If you don't mind, perhaps my flat next, so I might recover my sidearm," Michael suggests. ------------------------------ Message: 5 Date: Wed, 29 Dec 2004 12:05:00 -0600 From: Allen Veazey Subject: Re: [MaC] Examining the body > She worked neatly and energetically, defying the body's weight and > rigour to tug and work the dress on. After smoothing Nola's hair > carefully, she stepped back and shook her head. "Best I can do, and that > little enough," she said with regret. "I'll just step into the kitchen > and wash up. Could you kindly look after Tabitha, Mrs. > Skeffington-Nottle? I daresay she won't want to see *me*." Warren turned away as Nola was being examined and dressed; it was hard to tell if it was courtesy or sqeamishness that caused him to do so. Instead, he had his attention on the floor. He shook his head. "How utterly peculiar," he said. "Miss Diamond... drug use, you say? An abortion? I am very sorry to hear that..." He looked in the direction of the other room. "I wonder what our Mister Barowenski saw." ------------------------------ Message: 6 Date: Wed, 29 Dec 2004 14:11:52 -0500 From: "Pruehs, Ree M." Subject: RE: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat > > >"Evening, ladies, sir," Cyril greeted them over his shoulder, his > > >eyes only briefly leaving the cat. "We were just waiting > for Phillip > > >to re-bandage his hand. He tore the dressing on the > rubble outside. > > >How are things upstairs?" > > > >Braham simply nodded a salutation, his eyes never leave the > cat. He did > >move slightly off to the side, to give the others room to enter. > >Briefly he wondered who would be the first to brave the feline. > >Certainly it would not be him. At this moment he would > rather take his > >chances with the murderer. > > > >"Calming," said Richard as he lead Esme to a settee. "It seems our > >temper flares have coolled a bit. Everyone is splitting up, > searching, > >theorizing..." He motioned at the kitchen. "Getting tea." > > > >It was then he noticed Sweetie, and the two little balls of hate one > >might call eyes staring him down. He gave the cat a rictus grin. > > > >"How are things down here?" > > Braham held his ground by the door, "Well I'm afraid the > Warden was not > much help. He sounded as if the whole matter was a nuisance > that we should > be able to resolve ourselves." He shrugged. "I asked that he > notify the > police since we are not allowed to leave the building. I > suppose we'll just > have to bide our time and hope word gets to them in a timely manner. > > "Beyond that, things are calm enough. Officer Powell just > needed fresh > dressing on his wound." Vangie came back into the room carrying a tray with a plate of assorted cookies and a stack of small plates just in time to hear this last. "What wound?" ------------------------------ Message: 7 Date: Wed, 29 Dec 2004 14:30:03 -0500 From: Tara Kunkel Subject: RE: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat > > >"How are things down here?" > > > > Braham held his ground by the door, "Well I'm afraid the > > Warden was not > > much help. He sounded as if the whole matter was a nuisance > > that we should > > be able to resolve ourselves." He shrugged. "I asked that he > > notify the > > police since we are not allowed to leave the building. I > > suppose we'll just > > have to bide our time and hope word gets to them in a timely manner. > > > > "Beyond that, things are calm enough. Officer Powell just > > needed fresh > > dressing on his wound." > >Vangie came back into the room carrying a tray with a plate of assorted >cookies and a stack of small plates just in time to hear this last. >"What wound?" "The old one," Braham replied. Though not feeling a need to go into much detail he added, "He caught his hand on the doorjamb as we re-entered the building. It seems to have aggravated the healing process." Feeling a bit safer with Evangeline in the room, he ventured beyond the doorway towards the sitting area. "Is there something I can be of help with?" he asked sincerely. ------------------------------ Message: 8 Date: Wed, 29 Dec 2004 14:38:32 -0500 From: "Pruehs, Ree M." Subject: RE: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) > > > >"How are things down here?" > > > > > > Braham held his ground by the door, "Well I'm afraid the > Warden was > > > not much help. He sounded as if the whole matter was a nuisance > > > that we should > > > be able to resolve ourselves." He shrugged. "I asked that he > > > notify the > > > police since we are not allowed to leave the building. I > > > suppose we'll just > > > have to bide our time and hope word gets to them in a > timely manner. > > > > > > "Beyond that, things are calm enough. Officer Powell just needed > > > fresh dressing on his wound." > > > >Vangie came back into the room carrying a tray with a plate > of assorted > >biscuits, a sliced small cake and a stack of small plates just in time to hear this last. > >"What wound?" > > "The old one," Braham replied. Though not feeling a need to > go into much > detail he added, "He caught his hand on the doorjamb as we > re-entered the > building. It seems to have aggravated the healing process." > > Feeling a bit safer with Evangeline in the room, he ventured > beyond the > doorway towards the sitting area. "Is there something I can > be of help > with?" he asked sincerely. "Have a biscuit," Vangie said cheerfully. "Or a piece of cake. Made it myself this morning, sugarless =and= eggless. I've got the kettle on." [ooc: Please forgive the unintended Americanism. That was me not thinking rather than something intended as a Clue.] She went across to the bathroom door and tapped firmly on it. "Philip! Do you need anything?" ------------------------------ Message: 9 Date: Wed, 29 Dec 2004 12:35:28 -0800 (PST) From: Brenda McCartney Subject: RE: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) > > > > >"How are things down here?" > > > > > > > > Braham held his ground by the door, "Well I'm afraid the > > Warden was > > > > not much help. He sounded as if the whole matter was a nuisance > > > > that we should > > > > be able to resolve ourselves." He shrugged. "I asked that he > > > > notify the > > > > police since we are not allowed to leave the building. I > > > > suppose we'll just > > > > have to bide our time and hope word gets to them in a > > timely manner. > > > > > > > > "Beyond that, things are calm enough. Officer Powell just > needed > > > > fresh dressing on his wound." > > > > > >Vangie came back into the room carrying a tray with a plate > > of assorted > > >biscuits, a sliced small cake and a stack of small plates just in > time to hear this last. > > >"What wound?" > > > > "The old one," Braham replied. Though not feeling a need to > > go into much > > detail he added, "He caught his hand on the doorjamb as we > > re-entered the > > building. It seems to have aggravated the healing process." > > > > Feeling a bit safer with Evangeline in the room, he ventured > > beyond the > > doorway towards the sitting area. "Is there something I can > > be of help > > with?" he asked sincerely. > > "Have a biscuit," Vangie said cheerfully. "Or a piece of cake. Made > it > myself this morning, sugarless =and= eggless. I've got the kettle > on." > > [ooc: Please forgive the unintended Americanism. That was me not > thinking rather than something intended as a Clue.] > > She went across to the bathroom door and tapped firmly on it. > "Philip! > Do you need anything?" While Evangeline checked on Phillip, Cyril moved to the tea service and offered, "Would any of you care for some tea? I'll pour out." He looked at Richard, Arabella and Braham in turn. However, his glance lingered on Arabella a moment longer than the men. __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Read only the mail you want - Yahoo! Mail SpamGuard. http://promotions.yahoo.com/new_mail ------------------------------ Message: 10 Date: Wed, 29 Dec 2004 15:42:05 -0500 From: "Nowsounds" Subject: Re: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) >> >> "Have a biscuit," Vangie said cheerfully. "Or a piece of cake. Made >> it >> myself this morning, sugarless =and= eggless. I've got the kettle >> on." >> She went across to the bathroom door and tapped firmly on it. >> "Philip! >> Do you need anything?" > > While Evangeline checked on Phillip, Cyril moved to the tea service and > offered, "Would any of you care for some tea? I'll pour out." He > looked at Richard, Arabella and Braham in turn. However, his glance > lingered on Arabella a moment longer than the men. "I should like some, Mr.Beaman," the dowager said with a pleasant smile. "Sweet, please." She reached for a biscuit as well, then said to the others, "Mrs. Evans makes a rather good wartime cake. You hardly notice what isn't in it, because the rest comes together so well." ------------------------------ _______________________________________________ murder_at_christmas mailing list murder_at_christmas@gamera.cc http://gamera.cc/mailman/listinfo/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc End of murder_at_christmas Digest, Vol 1, Issue 47 ************************************************** From windeaglebjm at yahoo.com Wed Dec 29 16:36:38 2004 From: windeaglebjm at yahoo.com (Brenda McCartney) Date: Wed Dec 29 16:37:03 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) In-Reply-To: <001101c4ede6$dbf230c0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> Message-ID: <20041229213638.95440.qmail@web50702.mail.yahoo.com> --- Nowsounds wrote: > > > >> > >> "Have a biscuit," Vangie said cheerfully. "Or a piece of cake. > Made > >> it > >> myself this morning, sugarless =and= eggless. I've got the kettle > >> on." > > >> She went across to the bathroom door and tapped firmly on it. > >> "Philip! > >> Do you need anything?" > > > > While Evangeline checked on Phillip, Cyril moved to the tea service > and > > offered, "Would any of you care for some tea? I'll pour out." He > > looked at Richard, Arabella and Braham in turn. However, his > glance > > lingered on Arabella a moment longer than the men. > > "I should like some, Mr.Beaman," the dowager said with a pleasant > smile. > "Sweet, please." She reached for a biscuit as well, then said to the > others, > "Mrs. Evans makes a rather good wartime cake. You hardly notice what > isn't > in it, because the rest comes together so well." "She does indeed. Florence has asked for her recipes more than once," Cyril said as he prepared the dowager's tea. "Mrs. Evans?" he called as he looked in her direction. "May I pour for you?" __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! Mail - now with 250MB free storage. Learn more. http://info.mail.yahoo.com/mail_250 From hmace at elfworks.com Wed Dec 29 16:59:31 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Wed Dec 29 16:59:31 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations - Still in the Lounge In-Reply-To: <009e01c4edaa$f5dc1140$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <008f01c4ed18$a8380c60$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><020401c4ed2e$18e02dc0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><00ea01c4ed2e$5a37a050$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <6.2.0.14.0.20041228204204.03c805e8@mail.cac.net><02a001c4ed4c$84475020$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D21C5E.4030409@elfworks.com> <009e01c4edaa$f5dc1140$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41D328C3.3000305@elfworks.com> > > "Terrible thing about Miss Diamond, though." Marjorie looked up at > Fitzroy. "How long you know her for?" she asked the agent. > > "Three years she's been my client," said Marty Fitzroy. > > A noise from beyond the open service door seemed to draw his attention, > and he looked up sharply, and then walked to the door. "Who's there?" Marjorie asked Fitzroy from where she was sitting. "Is something happening?" She looked over at Florence to see her reaction. From hmace at elfworks.com Wed Dec 29 17:01:35 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Wed Dec 29 17:01:42 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge In-Reply-To: <004101c4ed96$20a3f5b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041228233533.38021.qmail@web20222.mail.yahoo.com> <00c101c4ed37$194da680$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> <41D1F721.4020705@elfworks.com><41D1FE78.2090703@elfworks.com> <41D1FFDD.3000905@mindspring.com> <004101c4ed96$20a3f5b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41D3293F.9070501@elfworks.com> >> > > "I doubt the killer could stage a UXB," said Oswald. "Certainly noty > one that would keep us all trapped in this building for so long. But a > light showing - one that would alert the ARP patrolling the streets - > that would be much easier. > > "Miss Higgins, you are closest. If you can do so without causing a > light to show yet again, can you see what kind of tear it is in the > blackout material?" Marjorie, looking disappointed her theory about the UXB was shot down so easily, turned around with a pout and looked closely at the curtain. "What am I looking for?" she asked as she peered at the tear. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 29 17:33:41 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 29 17:33:30 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: Hodges, Nicola and Michael References: <148.3aec1f0b.2f04298f@aol.com> <3b089f7c041229094858da3397@mail.gmail.com> Message-ID: <01ee01c4edf6$7312b4c0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> There was no-one in his flat - although Hodges was able to produce his >> somewhat elderly Home Guard rifle. >> >> The other flats on this floor belonged to the Countess and her daughter, >> the >> Wing Commander, and Miss Marjorie Higgins. >> Hodges checked and loaded a shell into the chamber of the old rifle, >> shouldered it for the march and turned to the others after an inspection >> of >> his own flat. "Shall we proceed in order then?" He asked, leading the >> way >> to Flat No 2. > > "If you don't mind, perhaps my flat next, so I might recover my > sidearm," Michael suggests. > They therefore headed first of all for Flat 4 so that Michael could collect his handgun. There wqas no-one in the flat - although there was a woman's scarf cast aside on a sofa. There were also a number of Egyptian artefacts - a statue of Anubis on a side table. There was also a key that looked like the key to one of the flats - only it bore the number 2. There was no-one in Flat 3, either. There were a few recently opened packages on the bed with used things in them - as if Marjorie had found a jumble sale or something. But the items are nicer than you'd expect from a jumble sale, and besides, in war-time people were far less reluctant to give away perfectly good clothes. Marjorie's handbag was here too. It had fallen on its iside, but all that had fallen out were a rather thin purse, and a small piece of card with an address in Betnal Green for a Mrs Miggins. They next went to Flat Number 2. Here again there was no-one - apart from Arabella's rather excited little dog. A canvas stood in the living room, and there was a smell of wet paint, although it did not look particularly smudged. On the other hand, given the style, it could be hard to tell. They checked each room. Pamela's bedroom was neat and tidy - but the corner of something written was protruding from a drawer in her dressing tavble, as though it had been shoved hastily away and the drawer closed. Once could make out the letters, "Darl ... " From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 29 17:36:04 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 29 17:36:08 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge References: <20041228233533.38021.qmail@web20222.mail.yahoo.com> <00c101c4ed37$194da680$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> <41D1F721.4020705@elfworks.com><41D1FE78.2090703@elfworks.com> <41D1FFDD.3000905@mindspring.com><004101c4ed96$20a3f5b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D3293F.9070501@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <01f801c4edf6$c804c4f0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> "I doubt the killer could stage a UXB," said Oswald. "Certainly noty one >> that would keep us all trapped in this building for so long. But a light >> showing - one that would alert the ARP patrolling the streets - that >> would be much easier. >> >> "Miss Higgins, you are closest. If you can do so without causing a light >> to show yet again, can you see what kind of tear it is in the blackout >> material?" > > Marjorie, looking disappointed her theory about the UXB was shot > down so easily, turned around with a pout and looked closely > at the curtain. "What am I looking for?" she asked as she peered > at the tear. > "To see whether you think it looks like an accidental rip," said Oswald, "or if it looks like something made more deliberately - with a knife, for example. That would bear out your theory that the light showing was done deliberately." From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 29 17:43:08 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 29 17:43:05 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body References: <20041229121619.87918.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com><41D2B932.5010303@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <020601c4edf7$c5c6c660$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> She worked neatly and energetically, defying the body's weight and >> rigour to tug and work the dress on. After smoothing Nola's hair >> carefully, she stepped back and shook her head. "Best I can do, and that >> little enough," she said with regret. "I'll just step into the kitchen >> and wash up. Could you kindly look after Tabitha, Mrs. >> Skeffington-Nottle? I daresay she won't want to see *me*." Certainly," agreed Lucinda, and she moved to the door. [Tabitha] leaned against the wall outside and tried to calm herself. "Here," said Lucinda, producing a silver cigarette case. "Do you smoke?" She took out a cigarette and lit it for herself. "Beastly business," she said. "Perhaps that was why she was so on edge. I wonder ... " And then she became aware of Marty Fitzroy standing at the service door of his own flat. For a moment he glowered at them - then he turned and disappeared back into his own flat. "Y'know," said Lucinda quietly, "I'm starting to feel this was news that we shouldn't be keeping to ourselves." > > Warren turned away as Nola was being examined and > dressed; it was hard to tell if it was courtesy or > sqeamishness that caused him to do so. Instead, he > had his attention on the floor. He shook his head. > > "How utterly peculiar," he said. "Miss Diamond... drug use, > you say? An abortion? I am very sorry to hear that..." He > looked in the direction of the other room. "I wonder what > our Mister Barowenski saw." > (OOC - if Pamela wants to return with the clothes, they can cover the body, lock up the flat, and join other people in the flat opposite / downstairs (when they find out that's where they've gone. And Warren may want to ask Barowenski some questions of his own). From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 29 17:49:01 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 29 17:48:58 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations - Still in the Lounge References: <008f01c4ed18$a8380c60$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><020401c4ed2e$18e02dc0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><00ea01c4ed2e$5a37a050$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <6.2.0.14.0.20041228204204.03c805e8@mail.cac.net><02a001c4ed4c$84475020$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D21C5E.4030409@elfworks.com><009e01c4edaa$f5dc1140$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D328C3.3000305@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <020e01c4edf8$975a0cf0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> "Terrible thing about Miss Diamond, though." Marjorie looked up at >> Fitzroy. "How long you know her for?" she asked the agent. >> >> "Three years she's been my client," said Marty Fitzroy. >> >> A noise from beyond the open service door seemed to draw his attention, >> and he looked up sharply, and then walked to the door. > > "Who's there?" Marjorie asked Fitzroy from where she was sitting. > "Is something happening?" > > She looked over at Florence to see her reaction. > Florence seemed as perplexed as Marjorie. Marty was out of the flat for some three minutes. When he returned, his face was the colour of putty - as though he had seen something appalling. He stared at Marjorie and Florence as though he wasn't really seeing them. "I'm going out," he said abruptly, and went to get his coat from its hook near the door. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 29 17:59:48 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 29 17:59:36 2004 Subject: [MaC] Seperations: Oswald, Marion, James and Anton References: <20041229171114.5492721B32F@ws5-6.us4.outblaze.com> Message-ID: <021a01c4edfa$1913ee40$0202a8c0@Behemoth> > > James walked over to Anton and put a hand on his shoulder. > > Quietly, he explained the plan again to Anton in Polish. He then > > tapped his shoulder to bid Anton to rise, to lead them downstairs > > to his flat. > > > > The officer for the rationing board swiveled his head and his > > gaze to Oswald and Marion to ensure that they were following the > > two of them downstairs. > > > > Oswald moved forward and indicated the lounge. "Just make > yourselves comfortavle," he told them. "Can I get anyone a drink?" > > "Please," said Anton. He still looked shaken. "A small cognac." Marion looked almost longingly at the bottles, but shook her head. "I'd better not. This would not be the time for me to be laid low with a migraine," she explained. "Perhaps you should tell us what happened," suggested Oswald, handing the pianist the drink. Barowenski shrugged. "I do not know. When Mr Fitzroy told me to play, I went into the lounge and played - in the darkness, yes. I was concentrating on the piece ... I started a second. Perhaps I was more relaxed. Perhaps my eyes became more accustomed to the dark. I don't know. But ... I became aware that she was lying on the sofa. I started to watch her, and I saw ... one eye, open. Staring. And ... I realised." He took a slug of brandy. Oswald frowned, but said nothing. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 29 18:05:36 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 29 18:05:25 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) References: <20041229213638.95440.qmail@web50702.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <023401c4edfa$e8749d60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> >> "Have a biscuit," Vangie said cheerfully. "Or a piece of cake. >> Made >> >> it >> >> myself this morning, sugarless =and= eggless. I've got the kettle >> >> on." >> >> >> She went across to the bathroom door and tapped firmly on it. >> >> "Philip! >> >> Do you need anything?" >> > >> > While Evangeline checked on Phillip, Cyril moved to the tea service >> and >> > offered, "Would any of you care for some tea? I'll pour out." He >> > looked at Richard, Arabella and Braham in turn. However, his >> glance >> > lingered on Arabella a moment longer than the men. >> >> "I should like some, Mr.Beaman," the dowager said with a pleasant >> smile. >> "Sweet, please." She reached for a biscuit as well, then said to the >> others, >> "Mrs. Evans makes a rather good wartime cake. You hardly notice what >> isn't >> in it, because the rest comes together so well." > > "She does indeed. Florence has asked for her recipes more than once," > Cyril said as he prepared the dowager's tea. "Mrs. Evans?" he called > as he looked in her direction. "May I pour for you?" > "No, thank you," came Philip's voice. "Just...about...done!" And indeed, moments later, he stepped out of the bathroom with fresh bandages wrapped more or less neatly around his right hand. Seeing the newcomers to the flat, he smiled somewhat uncertainly. "Quite the gathering we have here! Is everything all right -- I mean, considering the circumstances?" Esme was sitting huddled in a corner of the sofa, looking dazed. Sweetie cast a disparaging look around the room, stretched on the sofa, rent the material on the arm a little with his claws, then jumped down, sauntered over to Richard, bit him on the leg, and then headed for Vangie and purred as he rubbed around her legs. Clearly he too was a fan of her cooking. From hmace at elfworks.com Wed Dec 29 18:26:00 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Wed Dec 29 18:26:59 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge In-Reply-To: <01f801c4edf6$c804c4f0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041228233533.38021.qmail@web20222.mail.yahoo.com> <00c101c4ed37$194da680$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> <41D1F721.4020705@elfworks.com><41D1FE78.2090703@elfworks.com> <41D1FFDD.3000905@mindspring.com><004101c4ed96$20a3f5b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D3293F.9070501@elfworks.com> <01f801c4edf6$c804c4f0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41D33D08.3050905@elfworks.com> >> >> >> Marjorie, looking disappointed her theory about the UXB was shot >> down so easily, turned around with a pout and looked closely >> at the curtain. "What am I looking for?" she asked as she peered >> at the tear. >> > > "To see whether you think it looks like an accidental rip," said Oswald, > "or if it looks like something made more deliberately - with a knife, > for example. That would bear out your theory that the light showing was > done deliberately." Frowning, Marjorie pulled the fabric out towards her, looking for the hole. Once she found it, she pinched the curtain shut behind it, then pulled apart the fabric to see what kind of edge the hole had. From hmace at elfworks.com Wed Dec 29 18:27:31 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Wed Dec 29 18:27:29 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations - Still in the Lounge In-Reply-To: <020e01c4edf8$975a0cf0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <008f01c4ed18$a8380c60$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><020401c4ed2e$18e02dc0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><00ea01c4ed2e$5a37a050$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <6.2.0.14.0.20041228204204.03c805e8@mail.cac.net><02a001c4ed4c$84475020$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D21C5E.4030409@elfworks.com><009e01c4edaa$f5dc1140$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D328C3.3000305@elfworks.com> <020e01c4edf8$975a0cf0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41D33D63.9040402@elfworks.com> >> >> She looked over at Florence to see her reaction. >> > Florence seemed as perplexed as Marjorie. > > > Marty was out of the flat for some three minutes. When he returned, his > face was the colour of putty - as though he had seen something > appalling. He stared at Marjorie and Florence as though he wasn't really > seeing them. > > "I'm going out," he said abruptly, and went to get his coat from its > hook near the door. "Out where?" Marjorie asked. "There's a UXB outside... you can't leave the building. And besides, if there's really a killer here, do you really want to go off alone? I don't." Marjorie nodded to Florence. "I'm staying right here for now." From dorothea at textartisan.com Wed Dec 29 18:40:52 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Wed Dec 29 18:42:56 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body In-Reply-To: <020601c4edf7$c5c6c660$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041229121619.87918.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com><41D2B932.5010303@textartisan.com> <020601c4edf7$c5c6c660$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41D34084.8090004@textartisan.com> >> Warren turned away as Nola was being examined and >> dressed; it was hard to tell if it was courtesy or >> sqeamishness that caused him to do so. Instead, he >> had his attention on the floor. He shook his head. >> >> "How utterly peculiar," he said. "Miss Diamond... drug use, >> you say? An abortion? I am very sorry to hear that..." He >> looked in the direction of the other room. "I wonder what >> our Mister Barowenski saw." "I daresay they've asked him by now," answered Pamela apologetically, coming back from the kitchen. She had pinned her hair back at her temples and let it fall; not as neat a job as she might have liked, but it would do. "Just a minute and I'll be quite ready to go." Pamela tidied up her kit-bag, spread a sheet over Nola's body, bundled up the apron and rags she and Tabitha had used during the examination in another clean cloth, and picked up the remaining clean material in her other hand. "I think that's all," she sighed. "Shall we go and join the others? What a perfectly dreadful Christmas Eve this is turning out to be." From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 29 19:05:16 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 29 19:05:11 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations - Still in the Lounge References: <008f01c4ed18$a8380c60$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><020401c4ed2e$18e02dc0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><00ea01c4ed2e$5a37a050$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <6.2.0.14.0.20041228204204.03c805e8@mail.cac.net><02a001c4ed4c$84475020$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D21C5E.4030409@elfworks.com><009e01c4edaa$f5dc1140$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D328C3.3000305@elfworks.com><020e01c4edf8$975a0cf0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D33D63.9040402@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <025b01c4ee03$3dede550$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >>> She looked over at Florence to see her reaction. >>> >> Florence seemed as perplexed as Marjorie. >> >> >> Marty was out of the flat for some three minutes. When he returned, his >> face was the colour of putty - as though he had seen something appalling. >> He stared at Marjorie and Florence as though he wasn't really seeing >> them. >> >> "I'm going out," he said abruptly, and went to get his coat from its hook >> near the door. > > "Out where?" Marjorie asked. "There's a UXB outside... you > can't leave the building. And besides, if there's really > a killer here, do you really want to go off alone? I don't." > Marjorie nodded to Florence. "I'm staying right here for now." > Marty Fitzroy ignored her and headed out of the door, pulling his coat on roughly. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 29 19:08:06 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 29 19:08:59 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge References: <20041228233533.38021.qmail@web20222.mail.yahoo.com> <00c101c4ed37$194da680$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> <41D1F721.4020705@elfworks.com><41D1FE78.2090703@elfworks.com> <41D1FFDD.3000905@mindspring.com><004101c4ed96$20a3f5b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D3293F.9070501@elfworks.com><01f801c4edf6$c804c4f0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D33D08.3050905@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <025f01c4ee03$c491f970$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >>> Marjorie, looking disappointed her theory about the UXB was shot >>> down so easily, turned around with a pout and looked closely >>> at the curtain. "What am I looking for?" she asked as she peered >>> at the tear. >>> >> >> "To see whether you think it looks like an accidental rip," said Oswald, >> "or if it looks like something made more deliberately - with a knife, for >> example. That would bear out your theory that the light showing was done >> deliberately." > > Frowning, Marjorie pulled the fabric out towards her, looking > for the hole. Once she found it, she pinched the curtain > shut behind it, then pulled apart the fabric to see what kind > of edge the hole had. > At first it looked like a triangular tear. Then it became clear that it was something more than that - a triangle had been cut from the cloth - jaggedly and hastily. The spare cloth was on the floor where it had dropped. From hmace at elfworks.com Wed Dec 29 19:19:45 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Wed Dec 29 19:19:46 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations - Still in the Lounge In-Reply-To: <025b01c4ee03$3dede550$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <008f01c4ed18$a8380c60$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><020401c4ed2e$18e02dc0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><00ea01c4ed2e$5a37a050$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <6.2.0.14.0.20041228204204.03c805e8@mail.cac.net><02a001c4ed4c$84475020$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D21C5E.4030409@elfworks.com><009e01c4edaa$f5dc1140$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D328C3.3000305@elfworks.com><020e01c4edf8$975a0cf0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D33D63.9040402@elfworks.com> <025b01c4ee03$3dede550$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41D349A1.50906@elfworks.com> >>> >>> "I'm going out," he said abruptly, and went to get his coat from its >>> hook near the door. >> >> >> "Out where?" Marjorie asked. "There's a UXB outside... you >> can't leave the building. And besides, if there's really >> a killer here, do you really want to go off alone? I don't." >> Marjorie nodded to Florence. "I'm staying right here for now." >> > > Marty Fitzroy ignored her and headed out of the door, pulling his coat > on roughly. Marjorie stood up, hesitated for a moment, then moved to the service entrance to see who was there. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 29 19:31:08 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 29 19:30:59 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body - back to the Fitzroys References: <20041229121619.87918.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com><41D2B932.5010303@textartisan.com> <020601c4edf7$c5c6c660$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D34084.8090004@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <026701c4ee06$db3c40b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >>> Warren turned away as Nola was being examined and >>> dressed; it was hard to tell if it was courtesy or >>> sqeamishness that caused him to do so. Instead, he >>> had his attention on the floor. He shook his head. >>> >>> "How utterly peculiar," he said. "Miss Diamond... drug use, >>> you say? An abortion? I am very sorry to hear that..." He >>> looked in the direction of the other room. "I wonder what >>> our Mister Barowenski saw." > > "I daresay they've asked him by now," answered Pamela apologetically, > coming back from the kitchen. She had pinned her hair back at her temples > and let it fall; not as neat a job as she might have liked, but it would > do. "Just a minute and I'll be quite ready to go." > > Pamela tidied up her kit-bag, spread a sheet over Nola's body, bundled up > the apron and rags she and Tabitha had used during the examination in > another clean cloth, and picked up the remaining clean material in her > other hand. "I think that's all," she sighed. "Shall we go and join the > others? What a perfectly dreadful Christmas Eve this is turning out to > be." > "We'd better go back to the Fitzroys," said Lucinda as Warren and Pamela emerged. As she spoke, Marjorie Higgins appeared at the service door of the Fitzroys' flat. From hmace at elfworks.com Wed Dec 29 19:31:20 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Wed Dec 29 19:31:19 2004 Subject: [MaC] More speculation in the lounge In-Reply-To: <025f01c4ee03$c491f970$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041228233533.38021.qmail@web20222.mail.yahoo.com> <00c101c4ed37$194da680$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> <41D1F721.4020705@elfworks.com><41D1FE78.2090703@elfworks.com> <41D1FFDD.3000905@mindspring.com><004101c4ed96$20a3f5b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D3293F.9070501@elfworks.com><01f801c4edf6$c804c4f0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D33D08.3050905@elfworks.com> <025f01c4ee03$c491f970$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41D34C58.20707@elfworks.com> >> >> Frowning, Marjorie pulled the fabric out towards her, looking >> for the hole. Once she found it, she pinched the curtain >> shut behind it, then pulled apart the fabric to see what kind >> of edge the hole had. >> > > At first it looked like a triangular tear. Then it became clear that it > was something more than that - a triangle had been cut from the cloth - > jaggedly and hastily. > > The spare cloth was on the floor where it had dropped. Marjorie disappeared behind the bar for a moment, then stood up, holding up the cut scrap of cloth up for the room to see. "Well, well... looks like someone took something sharp to the fabric and cut a whole in it. And not with a pair of scissors, either..." From rmpruehs at cac.net Wed Dec 29 19:38:45 2004 From: rmpruehs at cac.net (Ree Moorhead Pruehs) Date: Wed Dec 29 19:42:18 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) In-Reply-To: <023401c4edfa$e8749d60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041229213638.95440.qmail@web50702.mail.yahoo.com> <023401c4edfa$e8749d60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <6.2.0.14.0.20041229193720.042736d8@mail.cac.net> >>> >> "Have a biscuit," Vangie said cheerfully. "Or a piece of cake. >>>Made >>> >> it >>> >> myself this morning, sugarless =and= eggless. I've got the kettle >>> >> on." >>> >>> >> She went across to the bathroom door and tapped firmly on it. >>> >> "Philip! >>> >> Do you need anything?" >>> > >>> > While Evangeline checked on Phillip, Cyril moved to the tea service >>>and >>> > offered, "Would any of you care for some tea? I'll pour out." He >>> > looked at Richard, Arabella and Braham in turn. However, his >>>glance >>> > lingered on Arabella a moment longer than the men. >>> >>>"I should like some, Mr.Beaman," the dowager said with a pleasant >>>smile. >>>"Sweet, please." She reached for a biscuit as well, then said to the >>>others, >>>"Mrs. Evans makes a rather good wartime cake. You hardly notice what >>>isn't >>>in it, because the rest comes together so well." >> >>"She does indeed. Florence has asked for her recipes more than once," >>Cyril said as he prepared the dowager's tea. "Mrs. Evans?" he called >>as he looked in her direction. "May I pour for you?" > >"No, thank you," came Philip's voice. "Just...about...done!" And indeed, >moments later, he stepped out of the bathroom with fresh bandages >wrapped more or less neatly around his right hand. > >Seeing the newcomers to the flat, he smiled somewhat uncertainly. "Quite >the gathering we have here! Is everything all right -- I mean, >considering the circumstances?" > >Esme was sitting huddled in a corner of the sofa, looking dazed. > >Sweetie cast a disparaging look around the room, stretched on the sofa, >rent the material on the arm a little with his claws, then jumped down, >sauntered over to Richard, bit him on the leg, and then headed for Vangie >and purred as he rubbed around her legs. Clearly he too was a fan of her >cooking. She reached down, petted him and slipped him a treat. "I know I shouldn't," she said to the room in general, "but he does so like cake. Don't you, Sweetie?" On the last three words her voice took on the rich edge of impending baby-talk. From faespinner at yahoo.com Wed Dec 29 19:49:42 2004 From: faespinner at yahoo.com (Tara Kunkel) Date: Wed Dec 29 19:49:59 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) In-Reply-To: <6.2.0.14.0.20041229193720.042736d8@mail.cac.net> References: <023401c4edfa$e8749d60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <20041229213638.95440.qmail@web50702.mail.yahoo.com> <023401c4edfa$e8749d60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <5.1.0.14.0.20041229194333.027b6e40@pop.mail.yahoo.com> >>Seeing the newcomers to the flat, he smiled somewhat uncertainly. "Quite >>the gathering we have here! Is everything all right -- I mean, >>considering the circumstances?" Braham gave a bit of a shrug. "Yes. Or so it would seem. Care for a spot of tea?" He had not quite gotten into the Brittish habit of tea drinking. It did not serve to calm his nerves. If anything it tended to make him more jumpy. All the same, he did not wish to offend anyone. "I know I'd love a cup." He reached for a piece of cake as well. Might as well keep the hostess happy. >>Esme was sitting huddled in a corner of the sofa, looking dazed. >> >>Sweetie cast a disparaging look around the room, stretched on the sofa, >>rent the material on the arm a little with his claws, then jumped down, >>sauntered over to Richard, bit him on the leg, and then headed for Vangie >>and purred as he rubbed around her legs. Clearly he too was a fan of her >>cooking. > >She reached down, petted him and slipped him a treat. > >"I know I shouldn't," she said to the room in general, "but he does so >like cake. Don't you, Sweetie?" On the last three words her voice took on >the rich edge of impending baby-talk. Braham only just managed to keep from choking on the cake he was nibbling on. "He seems a very intelligent cat. Almost human really." His behavior demonstrated far more thought than Braham would have thought possible in an animal. It was frightening to say the least. Of course it was also immensely interesting. He would love a chance to study Sweetie though he doubted it would ever happen. The endeavor seemed a bit too dangerous or so thought the man who traveled across an ocean to study people in a war ravaged country. From nowsounds at comcast.net Wed Dec 29 19:53:08 2004 From: nowsounds at comcast.net (Nowsounds) Date: Wed Dec 29 19:53:32 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) References: <023401c4edfa$e8749d60$0202a8c0@Behemoth><20041229213638.95440.qmail@web50702.mail.yahoo.com><023401c4edfa$e8749d60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <5.1.0.14.0.20041229194333.027b6e40@pop.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <00c201c4ee09$f0e76770$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> >>>Esme was sitting huddled in a corner of the sofa, looking dazed. >>> >>>Sweetie cast a disparaging look around the room, stretched on the sofa, >>>rent the material on the arm a little with his claws, then jumped down, >>>sauntered over to Richard, bit him on the leg, and then headed for Vangie >>>and purred as he rubbed around her legs. Clearly he too was a fan of her >>>cooking. >> >>She reached down, petted him and slipped him a treat. >> >>"I know I shouldn't," she said to the room in general, "but he does so >>like cake. Don't you, Sweetie?" On the last three words her voice took on >>the rich edge of impending baby-talk. > > Braham only just managed to keep from choking on the cake he was nibbling > on. "He seems a very intelligent cat. Almost human really." His behavior > demonstrated far more thought than Braham would have thought possible in > an animal. It was frightening to say the least. Of course it was also > immensely interesting. He would love a chance to study Sweetie though he > doubted it would ever happen. The endeavor seemed a bit too dangerous or > so thought the man who traveled across an ocean to study people in a war > ravaged country. "He does have a vivid personality," Arabella said. "But he is devoted to Mrs. Evans, as you can see she is to him, and that speaks well of him. Sometimes the difficult are the most rewarding, if you can only find a point of entry..." From hmace at elfworks.com Wed Dec 29 19:58:45 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Wed Dec 29 19:58:43 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body - back to the Fitzroys In-Reply-To: <026701c4ee06$db3c40b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041229121619.87918.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com><41D2B932.5010303@textartisan.com> <020601c4edf7$c5c6c660$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D34084.8090004@textartisan.com> <026701c4ee06$db3c40b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41D352C5.8080404@elfworks.com> >> >> Pamela tidied up her kit-bag, spread a sheet over Nola's body, bundled >> up the apron and rags she and Tabitha had used during the examination >> in another clean cloth, and picked up the remaining clean material in >> her other hand. "I think that's all," she sighed. "Shall we go and >> join the others? What a perfectly dreadful Christmas Eve this is >> turning out to be." >> > > "We'd better go back to the Fitzroys," said Lucinda as Warren and Pamela > emerged. > > As she spoke, Marjorie Higgins appeared at the service door of the > Fitzroys' flat. "What happened?" Marjorie asked, looking worried. "Fitzroy was out here for a few minutes, then he came back in, grabbed his coat, and left!" Marjorie pointed toward the down stairs inside. "I think he means to leave the building!" From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 29 20:26:19 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 29 20:26:07 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) References: <023401c4edfa$e8749d60$0202a8c0@Behemoth><20041229213638.95440.qmail@web50702.mail.yahoo.com><023401c4edfa$e8749d60$0202a8c0@Behemoth><5.1.0.14.0.20041229194333.027b6e40@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <00c201c4ee09$f0e76770$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> Message-ID: <029501c4ee0e$91089c70$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> Braham only just managed to keep from choking on the cake he was nibbling >> on. "He seems a very intelligent cat. Almost human really." His behavior >> demonstrated far more thought than Braham would have thought possible in >> an animal. It was frightening to say the least. Of course it was also >> immensely interesting. He would love a chance to study Sweetie though he >> doubted it would ever happen. The endeavor seemed a bit too dangerous or >> so thought the man who traveled across an ocean to study people in a war >> ravaged country. > > "He does have a vivid personality," Arabella said. "But he is devoted to > Mrs. Evans, as you can see she is to him, and that speaks well of him. > Sometimes the difficult are the most rewarding, if you can only find a > point of entry..." Sweetie cast a look around the room as though contemplating which of those gathered would offer the best point of entry for his fangs. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 29 20:28:44 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 29 20:28:36 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body - back to the Fitzroys References: <20041229121619.87918.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com><41D2B932.5010303@textartisan.com> <020601c4edf7$c5c6c660$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D34084.8090004@textartisan.com><026701c4ee06$db3c40b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D352C5.8080404@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <029b01c4ee0e$e74fb550$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >>> Pamela tidied up her kit-bag, spread a sheet over Nola's body, bundled >>> up the apron and rags she and Tabitha had used during the examination in >>> another clean cloth, and picked up the remaining clean material in her >>> other hand. "I think that's all," she sighed. "Shall we go and join the >>> others? What a perfectly dreadful Christmas Eve this is turning out to >>> be." >>> >> >> "We'd better go back to the Fitzroys," said Lucinda as Warren and Pamela >> emerged. >> >> As she spoke, Marjorie Higgins appeared at the service door of the >> Fitzroys' flat. > > "What happened?" Marjorie asked, looking worried. "Fitzroy was out > here for a few minutes, then he came back in, grabbed his coat, and > left!" Marjorie pointed toward the down stairs inside. "I think > he means to leave the building!" > "We should stop him!" said Lucinda worriedly, with a glance at Tabitha. "He must have heard ... "You see ... we found out that Nola was very ill before she was killed ... " From windeaglebjm at yahoo.com Wed Dec 29 20:35:41 2004 From: windeaglebjm at yahoo.com (Brenda McCartney) Date: Wed Dec 29 20:35:45 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) In-Reply-To: <00c201c4ee09$f0e76770$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> Message-ID: <20041230013541.61251.qmail@web50702.mail.yahoo.com> --- Nowsounds wrote: > >>>Esme was sitting huddled in a corner of the sofa, looking dazed. Cyril had not seen Esme Fitzroy slip in and shrink into the sofa. When he noticed her there, looking overwhelmed, he poured another cup of tea and brought it over to her. He crouched down next to the arm of the sofa, handed her the cup, and placed his other hand gently on her arm. "Esme, have some tea," he said gently to his neighbor. "You can wait it out here. No need to go back there," he comforted her even as he considered going back himself to find Florence. > >>>Sweetie cast a disparaging look around the room, stretched on the > sofa, > >>>rent the material on the arm a little with his claws, then jumped > down, > >>>sauntered over to Richard, bit him on the leg, and then headed for > Vangie > >>>and purred as he rubbed around her legs. Clearly he too was a fan > of her > >>>cooking. > >> > >>She reached down, petted him and slipped him a treat. > >> > >>"I know I shouldn't," she said to the room in general, "but he does > so > >>like cake. Don't you, Sweetie?" On the last three words her voice > took on > >>the rich edge of impending baby-talk. > > > > Braham only just managed to keep from choking on the cake he was > nibbling > > on. "He seems a very intelligent cat. Almost human really." His > behavior > > demonstrated far more thought than Braham would have thought > possible in > > an animal. It was frightening to say the least. Of course it was > also > > immensely interesting. He would love a chance to study Sweetie > though he > > doubted it would ever happen. The endeavor seemed a bit too > dangerous or > > so thought the man who traveled across an ocean to study people in > a war > > ravaged country. > > "He does have a vivid personality," Arabella said. "But he is devoted > to > Mrs. Evans, as you can see she is to him, and that speaks well of > him. > Sometimes the difficult are the most rewarding, if you can only find > a point > of entry..." > > > > _______________________________________________ > murder_at_christmas mailing list > murder_at_christmas@gamera.cc > http://gamera.cc/mailman/listinfo/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc > __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! Mail - You care about security. So do we. http://promotions.yahoo.com/new_mail From hmace at elfworks.com Wed Dec 29 20:39:10 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Wed Dec 29 20:39:09 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body - back to the Fitzroys In-Reply-To: <029b01c4ee0e$e74fb550$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041229121619.87918.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com><41D2B932.5010303@textartisan.com> <020601c4edf7$c5c6c660$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D34084.8090004@textartisan.com><026701c4ee06$db3c40b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D352C5.8080404@elfworks.com> <029b01c4ee0e$e74fb550$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41D35C3E.7000807@elfworks.com> >> >> "What happened?" Marjorie asked, looking worried. "Fitzroy was out >> here for a few minutes, then he came back in, grabbed his coat, and >> left!" Marjorie pointed toward the down stairs inside. "I think >> he means to leave the building!" >> > > "We should stop him!" said Lucinda worriedly, with a glance at Tabitha. > "He must have heard ... > > "You see ... we found out that Nola was very ill before she was killed > ... " "What do you mean, ill?" Marjorie asked, looking pale. "What was wrong with her?" she asked as she stood in the doorway. From dorothea at textartisan.com Wed Dec 29 20:46:44 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Wed Dec 29 20:48:44 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body - back to the Fitzroys In-Reply-To: <41D35C3E.7000807@elfworks.com> References: <20041229121619.87918.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com><41D2B932.5010303@textartisan.com> <020601c4edf7$c5c6c660$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D34084.8090004@textartisan.com><026701c4ee06$db3c40b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D352C5.8080404@elfworks.com> <029b01c4ee0e$e74fb550$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D35C3E.7000807@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <41D35E04.2090404@textartisan.com> > "What do you mean, ill?" Marjorie asked, looking pale. "What was wrong > with her?" she asked as she stood in the doorway. "A... female complaint," Pamela said delicately. "One that Mr. Fitzroy seems likeliest to have caused." From rmpruehs at cac.net Wed Dec 29 20:52:44 2004 From: rmpruehs at cac.net (Ree Moorhead Pruehs) Date: Wed Dec 29 20:53:08 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) In-Reply-To: <029501c4ee0e$91089c70$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <023401c4edfa$e8749d60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <20041229213638.95440.qmail@web50702.mail.yahoo.com> <023401c4edfa$e8749d60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <5.1.0.14.0.20041229194333.027b6e40@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <00c201c4ee09$f0e76770$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <029501c4ee0e$91089c70$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <6.2.0.14.0.20041229205220.04020020@mail.cac.net> At 08:26 PM 12/29/2004, you wrote: >>>Braham only just managed to keep from choking on the cake he was nibbling >>>on. "He seems a very intelligent cat. Almost human really." His behavior >>>demonstrated far more thought than Braham would have thought possible in >>>an animal. It was frightening to say the least. Of course it was also >>>immensely interesting. He would love a chance to study Sweetie though he >>>doubted it would ever happen. The endeavor seemed a bit too dangerous or >>>so thought the man who traveled across an ocean to study people in a war >>>ravaged country. >> >>"He does have a vivid personality," Arabella said. "But he is devoted to >>Mrs. Evans, as you can see she is to him, and that speaks well of him. >>Sometimes the difficult are the most rewarding, if you can only find a >>point of entry..." "I couldn't agree more," said Vangie, and said to the cat "There's my good boy." >Sweetie cast a look around the room as though contemplating which of those >gathered would offer the best point of entry for his fangs. From hmace at elfworks.com Wed Dec 29 20:57:01 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Wed Dec 29 20:56:59 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body - back to the Fitzroys In-Reply-To: <41D35E04.2090404@textartisan.com> References: <20041229121619.87918.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com><41D2B932.5010303@textartisan.com> <020601c4edf7$c5c6c660$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D34084.8090004@textartisan.com><026701c4ee06$db3c40b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D352C5.8080404@elfworks.com> <029b01c4ee0e$e74fb550$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D35C3E.7000807@elfworks.com> <41D35E04.2090404@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <41D3606D.50503@elfworks.com> >> "What do you mean, ill?" Marjorie asked, looking pale. "What was wrong >> with her?" she asked as she stood in the doorway. > > > "A... female complaint," Pamela said delicately. "One that Mr. > Fitzroy seems likeliest to have caused." Marjorie gave Pamela a blank look. "What does that mean? What was wrong with her? Just say it... she's not going to be offended," she pointed out. "She's dead." From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Wed Dec 29 20:59:52 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Wed Dec 29 20:59:43 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body - back to the Fitzroys References: <20041229121619.87918.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com><41D2B932.5010303@textartisan.com> <020601c4edf7$c5c6c660$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D34084.8090004@textartisan.com><026701c4ee06$db3c40b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D352C5.8080404@elfworks.com> <029b01c4ee0e$e74fb550$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D35C3E.7000807@elfworks.com><41D35E04.2090404@textartisan.com> <41D3606D.50503@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <02d101c4ee13$40642230$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >>> "What do you mean, ill?" Marjorie asked, looking pale. "What was wrong >>> with her?" she asked as she stood in the doorway. >> >> >> "A... female complaint," Pamela said delicately. "One that Mr. >> Fitzroy seems likeliest to have caused." > > Marjorie gave Pamela a blank look. "What does that mean? What was > wrong with her? Just say it... she's not going to be offended," > she pointed out. "She's dead." > "I'm afraid it seems she had had a backstreet abortion," says Lucinda gently. "One that went very badly wrong, as these things so often do." From hmace at elfworks.com Wed Dec 29 21:04:27 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Wed Dec 29 21:04:34 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body - back to the Fitzroys In-Reply-To: <02d101c4ee13$40642230$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041229121619.87918.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com><41D2B932.5010303@textartisan.com> <020601c4edf7$c5c6c660$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D34084.8090004@textartisan.com><026701c4ee06$db3c40b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D352C5.8080404@elfworks.com> <029b01c4ee0e$e74fb550$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D35C3E.7000807@elfworks.com><41D35E04.2090404@textartisan.com> <41D3606D.50503@elfworks.com> <02d101c4ee13$40642230$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41D3622B.6080800@elfworks.com> >>> >>> "A... female complaint," Pamela said delicately. "One that Mr. >>> Fitzroy seems likeliest to have caused." >> >> >> Marjorie gave Pamela a blank look. "What does that mean? What was >> wrong with her? Just say it... she's not going to be offended," >> she pointed out. "She's dead." >> > > "I'm afraid it seems she had had a backstreet abortion," says Lucinda > gently. "One that went very badly wrong, as these things so often do." Marjorie looked from Lucinda to Pamela and back, her face suddenly white. "How badly wrong?" she asked in a weak voice. From dorothea at textartisan.com Wed Dec 29 21:03:17 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Wed Dec 29 21:05:20 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body - back to the Fitzroys In-Reply-To: <41D3606D.50503@elfworks.com> References: <20041229121619.87918.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com><41D2B932.5010303@textartisan.com> <020601c4edf7$c5c6c660$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D34084.8090004@textartisan.com><026701c4ee06$db3c40b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D352C5.8080404@elfworks.com> <029b01c4ee0e$e74fb550$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D35C3E.7000807@elfworks.com> <41D35E04.2090404@textartisan.com> <41D3606D.50503@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <41D361E5.4060507@textartisan.com> > Marjorie gave Pamela a blank look. "What does that mean? What was > wrong with her? Just say it... she's not going to be offended," > she pointed out. "She's dead." Poor rattled Pamela took refuge in clinical detachment. "Miss Diamond had a serious infection from a poorly-performed termination of pregnancy," she said stiffly. "It isn't what she died of. But she very likely would have." From hmace at elfworks.com Wed Dec 29 21:10:17 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Wed Dec 29 21:10:15 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body - back to the Fitzroys In-Reply-To: <41D3622B.6080800@elfworks.com> References: <20041229121619.87918.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com><41D2B932.5010303@textartisan.com> <020601c4edf7$c5c6c660$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D34084.8090004@textartisan.com><026701c4ee06$db3c40b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D352C5.8080404@elfworks.com> <029b01c4ee0e$e74fb550$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D35C3E.7000807@elfworks.com><41D35E04.2090404@textartisan.com> <41D3606D.50503@elfworks.com> <02d101c4ee13$40642230$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D3622B.6080800@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <41D36389.4030401@elfworks.com> [smoosh] >>> >>> Marjorie gave Pamela a blank look. "What does that mean? What was >>> wrong with her? Just say it... she's not going to be offended," >>> she pointed out. "She's dead." >>> >> >> "I'm afraid it seems she had had a backstreet abortion," says Lucinda >> gently. "One that went very badly wrong, as these things so often do." > > > Marjorie looked from Lucinda to Pamela and back, her face suddenly > white. "How badly wrong?" she asked in a weak voice. Poor rattled Pamela took refuge in clinical detachment. "Miss Diamond had a serious infection from a poorly-performed termination of pregnancy," she said stiffly. "It isn't what she died of. But she very likely would have." Marjorie stared at Pamela for a moment with an aghast expression. Then she fainted in the doorway, falling backwards into the Fitzroy lounge. From margdean56 at operamail.com Wed Dec 29 21:17:28 2004 From: margdean56 at operamail.com (Margaret Dean) Date: Wed Dec 29 21:17:31 2004 Subject: [MaC] Seperations: Oswald, Marion, James and Anton Message-ID: <20041230021728.85D1E21B32F@ws5-6.us4.outblaze.com> ----- Original Message ----- From: "Mel Mason" To: murder_at_christmas@gamera.cc Subject: Re: [MaC] Seperations: Oswald, Marion, James and Anton Date: Wed, 29 Dec 2004 22:59:48 -0000 > > > > James walked over to Anton and put a hand on his shoulder. > > > Quietly, he explained the plan again to Anton in Polish. He then > > > tapped his shoulder to bid Anton to rise, to lead them downstairs > > > to his flat. > > > > > > The officer for the rationing board swiveled his head and his > > > gaze to Oswald and Marion to ensure that they were following the > > > two of them downstairs. > > > > > > > Oswald moved forward and indicated the lounge. "Just make > > yourselves comfortavle," he told them. "Can I get anyone a drink?" > > > > "Please," said Anton. He still looked shaken. "A small cognac." > > Marion looked almost longingly at the bottles, but shook her head. > "I'd better not. This would not be the time for me to be laid low > with a migraine," she explained. > > "Perhaps you should tell us what happened," suggested Oswald, > handing the pianist the drink. > > Barowenski shrugged. > > "I do not know. When Mr Fitzroy told me to play, I went into the > lounge and played - in the darkness, yes. I was concentrating on > the piece ... I started a second. Perhaps I was more relaxed. > Perhaps my eyes became more accustomed to the dark. I don't know. > But ... I became aware that she was lying on the sofa. I started > to watch her, and I saw ... one eye, open. Staring. And ... I > realised." > > He took a slug of brandy. > > Oswald frowned, but said nothing. "But when you first went back to your flat to begin playing, the lights were still on," Marion pointed out, her voice calm and even, but her gaze on Barowenski intent. "And Miss Diamond was still alive, because I recall her speaking to me at just about that same time." --Margaret Dean -- _____________________________________________________________ Web-based SMS services available at http://www.operamail.com. From your mailbox to local or overseas cell phones. Powered by Outblaze From dorothea at textartisan.com Wed Dec 29 21:18:10 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Wed Dec 29 21:20:11 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body - back to the Fitzroys In-Reply-To: <41D36389.4030401@elfworks.com> References: <20041229121619.87918.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com><41D2B932.5010303@textartisan.com> <020601c4edf7$c5c6c660$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D34084.8090004@textartisan.com><026701c4ee06$db3c40b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D352C5.8080404@elfworks.com> <029b01c4ee0e$e74fb550$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D35C3E.7000807@elfworks.com><41D35E04.2090404@textartisan.com> <41D3606D.50503@elfworks.com> <02d101c4ee13$40642230$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D3622B.6080800@elfworks.com> <41D36389.4030401@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <41D36562.3060203@textartisan.com> [ OOC: Eminently well-smooshed, thank you. ] > Marjorie stared at Pamela for a moment with an aghast expression. > > Then she fainted in the doorway, falling backwards into the Fitzroy > lounge. "Oh!" Pamela dropped everything in her hands, but she could not reach Marjorie in time to stop the fall. Lacking anything to put Marjorie's feet on, she slipped her arm under Marjorie's knees and bent them, to let the blood run back to her head. "Miss Higgins? Can you hear me?" she asked, reaching for something to cover her and warm her with. "Mr. Worthington, would you give me my kit-bag there? I have salts in it, and bandages in case... oh, dear, I hope she hasn't hurt herself!" From jvstin at mindspring.com Wed Dec 29 22:45:34 2004 From: jvstin at mindspring.com (Jvstin(Mindspring)) Date: Wed Dec 29 22:45:44 2004 Subject: [MaC] Seperations: Oswald, Marion, James and Anton In-Reply-To: <20041230021728.85D1E21B32F@ws5-6.us4.outblaze.com> References: <20041230021728.85D1E21B32F@ws5-6.us4.outblaze.com> Message-ID: <41D379DE.6@mindspring.com> on 12/29/2004 8:17 PM Margaret Dean said the following: > ----- Original Message ----- From: "Mel Mason" > To: murder_at_christmas@gamera.cc Subject: > Re: [MaC] Seperations: Oswald, Marion, James and Anton Date: Wed, 29 > Dec 2004 22:59:48 -0000 > > >>>> James walked over to Anton and put a hand on his shoulder. >>>> Quietly, he explained the plan again to Anton in Polish. He >>>> then tapped his shoulder to bid Anton to rise, to lead them >>>> downstairs to his flat. >>>> >>>> The officer for the rationing board swiveled his head and his >>>> gaze to Oswald and Marion to ensure that they were following >>>> the two of them downstairs. >>>> >>> >>> Oswald moved forward and indicated the lounge. "Just make >>> yourselves comfortavle," he told them. "Can I get anyone a >>> drink?" >>> >>> "Please," said Anton. He still looked shaken. "A small cognac." >>> >> >> Marion looked almost longingly at the bottles, but shook her head. >> "I'd better not. This would not be the time for me to be laid low >> with a migraine," she explained. "I will pass, too, perhaps just a glass of water." James said. >> >> "Perhaps you should tell us what happened," suggested Oswald, >> handing the pianist the drink. >> >> Barowenski shrugged. >> >> "I do not know. When Mr Fitzroy told me to play, I went into the >> lounge and played - in the darkness, yes. I was concentrating on >> the piece ... I started a second. Perhaps I was more relaxed. >> Perhaps my eyes became more accustomed to the dark. I don't know. >> But ... I became aware that she was lying on the sofa. I started >> to watch her, and I saw ... one eye, open. Staring. And ... I >> realised." >> >> He took a slug of brandy. >> >> Oswald frowned, but said nothing. > > > "But when you first went back to your flat to begin playing, the > lights were still on," Marion pointed out, her voice calm and even, > but her gaze on Barowenski intent. "And Miss Diamond was still > alive, because I recall her speaking to me at just about that same > time." > James turned to look at Anton. "She's right, the lights had not gone off before you got to your flat." James put in. "Unless you had your lights off, or..." he didn't finish the sentence but looked intently at Anton. From jjkatalenic at yahoo.com Wed Dec 29 22:57:52 2004 From: jjkatalenic at yahoo.com (Jonathan Katalenic) Date: Wed Dec 29 22:58:01 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: Hodges, Nicola and Michael In-Reply-To: <01ee01c4edf6$7312b4c0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <20041230035752.17799.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com> --- Mel Mason wrote: > >> There was no-one in his flat - although Hodges > was able to produce his > >> somewhat elderly Home Guard rifle. > >> > >> The other flats on this floor belonged to the > Countess and her daughter, > >> the > >> Wing Commander, and Miss Marjorie Higgins. > >> Hodges checked and loaded a shell into the > chamber of the old rifle, > >> shouldered it for the march and turned to the > others after an inspection > >> of > >> his own flat. "Shall we proceed in order then?" > He asked, leading the > >> way > >> to Flat No 2. > > > > "If you don't mind, perhaps my flat next, so I > might recover my > > sidearm," Michael suggests. > > > > They therefore headed first of all for Flat 4 so > that Michael could collect > his handgun. There wqas no-one in the flat - > although there was a woman's > scarf cast aside on a sofa. There were also a > number of Egyptian > artefacts - a statue of Anubis on a side table. > There was also a key that > looked like the key to one of the flats - only it > bore the number 2. > > There was no-one in Flat 3, either. There were a few > recently opened > packages on the bed with used things in them - as if > Marjorie had found a > jumble sale or something. But the items are nicer > than you'd expect from a > jumble sale, and besides, in war-time people were > far less reluctant to give > away perfectly good clothes. Marjorie's handbag was > here too. It had > fallen on its iside, but all that had fallen out > were a rather thin purse, > and a small piece of card with an address in Betnal > Green for a Mrs Miggins. > > They next went to Flat Number 2. Here again there > was no-one - apart from > Arabella's rather excited little dog. A canvas > stood in the living room, > and there was a smell of wet paint, although it did > not look particularly > smudged. On the other hand, given the style, it > could be hard to tell. > > They checked each room. Pamela's bedroom was neat > and tidy - but the corner > of something written was protruding from a drawer in > her dressing tavble, as > though it had been shoved hastily away and the > drawer closed. Once could > make out the letters, "Darl ... " Nicola instantly recognized one of the items in one of the flats, but as she neither trusted nor felt a particular need to confide in either Hodges or Michael, she kept her mouth shut. 'Very interesting,' she thought to herself. 'I may just have to ask her about that sometime.' "Right then, gents," she said as they left Flat No. 2. "On to the second floor." As the three climbed the stairs leading to the second floor, Nicola wished, not for the first time, that she had thought to pack the .38 Freddy had given her for protection. Foolishly, she had thought she would be in LESS danger in London than in New York. "And here we are, tracking a murderer," she muttered under her breath. She, Michael and Hodges reached the second floor. [OOC: I'm assuming, unless there's anything in particular Michael or Hodges wish to search first, that they'll search these flats in order- 5, 6, 7 and then 8.] __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Jazz up your holiday email with celebrity designs. Learn more. http://celebrity.mail.yahoo.com From Mrfury28 at aol.com Wed Dec 29 23:19:05 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Wed Dec 29 23:19:15 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: Hodges, Nicola and Michael Message-ID: <9f.555a6018.2f04dbb9@aol.com> There was also a key that looked like the key to one of the flats - only it bore the number 2. "Did you find a loose key, eh Mr. Coldsmith-Briggs?" Hodges asked. "We ought to return it if its a Mortmain key." He bent down for a closer inspection. *** There was no-one in Flat 3, either. There were a few recently opened packages on the bed with used things in them - as if Marjorie had found a jumble sale or something. But the items are nicer than you'd expect from a jumble sale, and besides, in war-time people were far less reluctant to give away perfectly good clothes. Marjorie's handbag was here too. It had fallen on its iside, but all that had fallen out were a rather thin purse, and a small piece of card with an address in Betnal Green for a Mrs Miggins. Somewhat surprised, Hodges murmured, "Whats this? Undelivered parcels?" He kept an eye open for any visible medicine in Miss Higgins flat, in case she should require it. They next went to Flat Number 2. Here again there was no-one - apart from Arabella's rather excited little dog. A canvas stood in the living room, and there was a smell of wet paint, although it did not look particularly smudged. On the other hand, given the style, it could be hard to tell. Hodges didn't go in much for modern art. (OOC: Are there reds in the painting?) They checked each room. Pamela's bedroom was neat and tidy - but the corner of something written was protruding from a drawer in her dressing table, as though it had been shoved hastily away and the drawer closed. Once could make out the letters, "Darl ... " Nicola instantly recognized one of the items in one of the flats, but as she neither trusted nor felt a particular need to confide in either Hodges or Michael, she kept her mouth shut. 'Very interesting,' she thought to herself. 'I may just have to ask her about that sometime.' "Right then, gents," she said as they left Flat No. 2. "On to the second floor." As the three climbed the stairs leading to the second floor, Nicola wished, not for the first time, that she had thought to pack the .38 Freddy had given her for protection. Foolishly, she had thought she would be in LESS danger in London than in New York. "And here we are, tracking a murderer," she muttered under her breath. She, Michael and Hodges reached the second floor. [OOC: I'm assuming, unless there's anything in particular Michael or Hodges wish to search first, that they'll search these flats in order- 5, 6, 7 and then 8.] OOC: No objections here! - Hodges -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041229/d16d72aa/attachment.htm From nowsounds at comcast.net Wed Dec 29 23:23:17 2004 From: nowsounds at comcast.net (Nowsounds) Date: Wed Dec 29 23:23:24 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: Hodges, Nicola and Michael References: <9f.555a6018.2f04dbb9@aol.com> Message-ID: <016501c4ee27$49b265e0$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> >>They next went to Flat Number 2. Here again there was no-one - apart from Arabella's rather excited little dog. A canvas stood in the living room, and there was a >>smell of wet paint, although it did not look particularly smudged. On the other hand, given the style, it >>could be hard to tell. >>Hodges didn't go in much for modern art. (OOC: Are there reds in the painting?) Yes, there are, reds and reddish browns and the like. -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041229/027c4ecd/attachment.htm From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Thu Dec 30 03:58:50 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Thu Dec 30 03:58:54 2004 Subject: [MaC] Seperations: Oswald, Marion, James and Anton References: <20041230021728.85D1E21B32F@ws5-6.us4.outblaze.com> <41D379DE.6@mindspring.com> Message-ID: <003d01c4ee4d$c919f2f0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >>> Barowenski shrugged. >>> >>> "I do not know. When Mr Fitzroy told me to play, I went into the lounge >>> and played - in the darkness, yes. I was concentrating on >>> the piece ... I started a second. Perhaps I was more relaxed. Perhaps >>> my eyes became more accustomed to the dark. I don't know. >>> But ... I became aware that she was lying on the sofa. I started >>> to watch her, and I saw ... one eye, open. Staring. And ... I >>> realised." >>> >>> He took a slug of brandy. >>> >>> Oswald frowned, but said nothing. >> >> >> "But when you first went back to your flat to begin playing, the >> lights were still on," Marion pointed out, her voice calm and even, >> but her gaze on Barowenski intent. "And Miss Diamond was still >> alive, because I recall her speaking to me at just about that same >> time." >> > > James turned to look at Anton. > > "She's right, the lights had not gone off before you got to your flat." > James put in. "Unless you had your lights off, or..." he didn't finish > the sentence but looked intently at Anton. > "I had the lights off," said Barowenski. He was staring down into his whisky. "But ... between my playing ... I went out onto the terrace. To breathe the night air. And for a cifarette, yes. It must have happened then!" "I remember the music stopping when we were all in the darkness with the Warden," said Oswald slowly, "but I would have thought it was for no more than a minute or so. Not enough time to cross to the window, step out onto the terrace without disturbing the blackout, smoke a cigarette and return." From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Thu Dec 30 04:17:59 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Thu Dec 30 04:18:21 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body - back to the Fitzroys References: <20041229121619.87918.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com><41D2B932.5010303@textartisan.com> <020601c4edf7$c5c6c660$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D34084.8090004@textartisan.com><026701c4ee06$db3c40b0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D352C5.8080404@elfworks.com> <029b01c4ee0e$e74fb550$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D35C3E.7000807@elfworks.com><41D35E04.2090404@textartisan.com> <41D3606D.50503@elfworks.com> <02d101c4ee13$40642230$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D3622B.6080800@elfworks.com><41D36389.4030401@elfworks.com> <41D36562.3060203@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <004c01c4ee50$749e1cd0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> Marjorie stared at Pamela for a moment with an aghast expression. >> >> Then she fainted in the doorway, falling backwards into the Fitzroy >> lounge. > > "Oh!" Pamela dropped everything in her hands, but she could not reach > Marjorie in time to stop the fall. Lacking anything to put Marjorie's feet > on, she slipped her arm under Marjorie's knees and bent them, to let the > blood run back to her head. "Miss Higgins? Can you hear me?" she asked, > reaching for something to cover her and warm her with. "Mr. Worthington, > would you give me my kit-bag there? I have salts in it, and bandages in > case... oh, dear, I hope she hasn't hurt herself!" > Lucinda looked at them worriedly, and then said, "I have to stop Mr Fitzroy!" She hurried to the top of the stairs and called down. "Mr Fitzroy! Stop ... stop! It's most important!" She started to follow him down the stairs, just as the lift door could be heard opening on the floor below. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Thu Dec 30 04:20:25 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Thu Dec 30 04:20:45 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) References: <023401c4edfa$e8749d60$0202a8c0@Behemoth><20041229213638.95440.qmail@web50702.mail.yahoo.com><023401c4edfa$e8749d60$0202a8c0@Behemoth><5.1.0.14.0.20041229194333.027b6e40@pop.mail.yahoo.com><00c201c4ee09$f0e76770$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop><029501c4ee0e$91089c70$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <6.2.0.14.0.20041229205220.04020020@mail.cac.net> Message-ID: <005001c4ee50$cc0a7bd0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >>>>Braham only just managed to keep from choking on the cake he was >>>>nibbling >>>>on. "He seems a very intelligent cat. Almost human really." His behavior >>>>demonstrated far more thought than Braham would have thought possible in >>>>an animal. It was frightening to say the least. Of course it was also >>>>immensely interesting. He would love a chance to study Sweetie though he >>>>doubted it would ever happen. The endeavor seemed a bit too dangerous or >>>>so thought the man who traveled across an ocean to study people in a war >>>>ravaged country. >>> >>>"He does have a vivid personality," Arabella said. "But he is devoted to >>>Mrs. Evans, as you can see she is to him, and that speaks well of him. >>>Sometimes the difficult are the most rewarding, if you can only find a >>>point of entry..." > > "I couldn't agree more," said Vangie, and said to the cat "There's my good > boy." > >>Sweetie cast a look around the room as though contemplating which of those >>gathered would offer the best point of entry for his fangs. > At this point, the lift could be heard clanking through the half open door of the flat. Someone had either summoned it, or was using it. At the same time, a woman's voice could be heard calling urgently from the top floor. From jadethe2nd at yahoo.com Thu Dec 30 04:46:54 2004 From: jadethe2nd at yahoo.com (Jade) Date: Thu Dec 30 04:47:12 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body In-Reply-To: <020601c4edf7$c5c6c660$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <20041230094654.53813.qmail@web60810.mail.yahoo.com> --- Mel Mason wrote: > > >> She worked neatly and energetically, defying the > body's weight and > >> rigour to tug and work the dress on. After > smoothing Nola's hair > >> carefully, she stepped back and shook her head. > "Best I can do, and that > >> little enough," she said with regret. "I'll just > step into the kitchen > >> and wash up. Could you kindly look after Tabitha, > Mrs. > >> Skeffington-Nottle? I daresay she won't want to > see *me*." > > Certainly," agreed Lucinda, and she moved to the > door. > > [Tabitha] leaned against the wall outside and tried > to calm herself. > > "Here," said Lucinda, producing a silver cigarette > case. "Do you smoke?" "Oh yes, thank you." Tabitha took one of the proferred cigarettes and shook her head in an attempt to clear it of disturbing thoughts. > > She took out a cigarette and lit it for herself. > > "Beastly business," she said. "Perhaps that was why > she was so on edge. I > wonder ... " > > And then she became aware of Marty Fitzroy standing > at the service door of > his own flat. For a moment he glowered at them - > then he turned and > disappeared back into his own flat. Tabitha sighed. This was *just* what they needed... > "Y'know," said Lucinda quietly, "I'm starting to > feel this was news that we > shouldn't be keeping to ourselves." > > > > Warren turned away as Nola was being examined and > > dressed; it was hard to tell if it was courtesy or > > sqeamishness that caused him to do so. Instead, he > > had his attention on the floor. He shook his head. > > > > "How utterly peculiar," he said. "Miss Diamond... > drug use, > > you say? An abortion? I am very sorry to hear > that..." He > > looked in the direction of the other room. "I > wonder what > > our Mister Barowenski saw." > > __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! Mail - Helps protect you from nasty viruses. http://promotions.yahoo.com/new_mail From rmpruehs at cac.net Thu Dec 30 05:46:31 2004 From: rmpruehs at cac.net (Ree Moorhead Pruehs) Date: Thu Dec 30 05:56:21 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) In-Reply-To: <005001c4ee50$cc0a7bd0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <023401c4edfa$e8749d60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <20041229213638.95440.qmail@web50702.mail.yahoo.com> <023401c4edfa$e8749d60$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <5.1.0.14.0.20041229194333.027b6e40@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <00c201c4ee09$f0e76770$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> <029501c4ee0e$91089c70$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <6.2.0.14.0.20041229205220.04020020@mail.cac.net> <005001c4ee50$cc0a7bd0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <6.2.0.14.0.20041230054615.040368f0@mail.cac.net> At 04:20 AM 12/30/2004, you wrote: >>>>>Braham only just managed to keep from choking on the cake he was nibbling >>>>>on. "He seems a very intelligent cat. Almost human really." His >>>>>behavior demonstrated far more thought than Braham would have thought >>>>>possible in an animal. It was frightening to say the least. Of course >>>>>it was also immensely interesting. He would love a chance to study >>>>>Sweetie though he doubted it would ever happen. The endeavor seemed a >>>>>bit too dangerous or so thought the man who traveled across an ocean >>>>>to study people in a war ravaged country. >>>> >>>>"He does have a vivid personality," Arabella said. "But he is devoted >>>>to Mrs. Evans, as you can see she is to him, and that speaks well of >>>>him. Sometimes the difficult are the most rewarding, if you can only >>>>find a point of entry..." >> >>"I couldn't agree more," said Vangie, and said to the cat "There's my >>good boy." >> >>>Sweetie cast a look around the room as though contemplating which of >>>those gathered would offer the best point of entry for his fangs. > >At this point, the lift could be heard clanking through the half open door >of the flat. Someone had either summoned it, or was using it. At the >same time, a woman's voice could be heard calling urgently from the top floor. Vangie looked up sharply and said "Who's using the lift?" From jvstin at mindspring.com Thu Dec 30 06:10:30 2004 From: jvstin at mindspring.com (Jvstin(Mindspring)) Date: Thu Dec 30 06:11:17 2004 Subject: [MaC] Seperations: Oswald, Marion, James and Anton In-Reply-To: <003d01c4ee4d$c919f2f0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041230021728.85D1E21B32F@ws5-6.us4.outblaze.com> <41D379DE.6@mindspring.com> <003d01c4ee4d$c919f2f0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41D3E226.2070305@mindspring.com> on 12/30/2004 2:58 AM Mel Mason said the following: >>>> Barowenski shrugged. >>>> >>>> "I do not know. When Mr Fitzroy told me to play, I went into the >>>> lounge and played - in the darkness, yes. I was concentrating on >>>> the piece ... I started a second. Perhaps I was more relaxed. >>>> Perhaps my eyes became more accustomed to the dark. I don't know. >>>> But ... I became aware that she was lying on the sofa. I started >>>> to watch her, and I saw ... one eye, open. Staring. And ... I >>>> realised." >>>> >>>> He took a slug of brandy. >>>> >>>> Oswald frowned, but said nothing. >>> >>> >>> >>> "But when you first went back to your flat to begin playing, the >>> lights were still on," Marion pointed out, her voice calm and even, >>> but her gaze on Barowenski intent. "And Miss Diamond was still >>> alive, because I recall her speaking to me at just about that same >>> time." >>> >> >> James turned to look at Anton. >> >> "She's right, the lights had not gone off before you got to your >> flat." James put in. "Unless you had your lights off, or..." he >> didn't finish the sentence but looked intently at Anton. >> > > "I had the lights off," said Barowenski. He was staring down into his > whisky. "But ... between my playing ... I went out onto the terrace. > To breathe the night air. And for a cifarette, yes. It must have > happened then!" > > "I remember the music stopping when we were all in the darkness with the > Warden," said Oswald slowly, "but I would have thought it was for no > more than a minute or so. Not enough time to cross to the window, step > out onto the terrace without disturbing the blackout, smoke a cigarette > and return." > James looked at Oswald and Marion, and then to Anton. "Anton, if you are lying just to protect someone, somewhere else..." His eyes met the musicians. "We can help. Lying about these matters, in the end, helps no one." James looked at Anton intently and then spoke in Polish. "W J?zyku polskim (blask), je?eli wy ?yczycie?" From kris.kunkel at gmail.com Thu Dec 30 07:41:09 2004 From: kris.kunkel at gmail.com (Knave of Amber) Date: Thu Dec 30 07:41:11 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: Hodges, Nicola and Michael In-Reply-To: <20041230035752.17799.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com> References: <01ee01c4edf6$7312b4c0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <20041230035752.17799.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <3b089f7c04123004412b77ae65@mail.gmail.com> > > They therefore headed first of all for Flat 4 so > > that Michael could collect > > his handgun. There wqas no-one in the flat - > > although there was a woman's > > scarf cast aside on a sofa. There were also a > > number of Egyptian > > artefacts - a statue of Anubis on a side table. > > There was also a key that > > looked like the key to one of the flats - only it > > bore the number 2. "Egyptian god of death, you know," Michael offered cheerily. > > There was no-one in Flat 3, either. There were a few > > recently opened > > packages on the bed with used things in them - as if > > Marjorie had found a > > jumble sale or something. But the items are nicer > > than you'd expect from a > > jumble sale, and besides, in war-time people were > > far less reluctant to give > > away perfectly good clothes. Marjorie's handbag was > > here too. It had > > fallen on its iside, but all that had fallen out > > were a rather thin purse, > > and a small piece of card with an address in Betnal > > Green for a Mrs Miggins. > > > > They next went to Flat Number 2. Here again there > > was no-one - apart from > > Arabella's rather excited little dog. A canvas > > stood in the living room, > > and there was a smell of wet paint, although it did > > not look particularly > > smudged. On the other hand, given the style, it > > could be hard to tell. > > > > They checked each room. Pamela's bedroom was neat > > and tidy - but the corner > > of something written was protruding from a drawer in > > her dressing tavble, as > > though it had been shoved hastily away and the > > drawer closed. Once could > > make out the letters, "Darl ... " > > Nicola instantly recognized one of the items in one of > the flats, but as she neither trusted nor felt a > particular need to confide in either Hodges or > Michael, she kept her mouth shut. 'Very interesting,' > she thought to herself. 'I may just have to ask her > about that sometime.' > > "Right then, gents," she said as they left Flat No. 2. > "On to the second floor." As the three climbed the > stairs leading to the second floor, Nicola wished, not > for the first time, that she had thought to pack the > .38 Freddy had given her for protection. Foolishly, > she had thought she would be in LESS danger in London > than in New York. "And here we are, tracking a > murderer," she muttered under her breath. She, Michael > and Hodges reached the second floor. "So, there are a few empty flats currently, aren't there Hodges?" Michael asked. "I suppose someone might've been lurking in one of them for days perhaps looking for a opportunity." "And they really think it was strangulation? No poison?" he thinks out loud. "Last murder I saw that didn't have to do with this damn war was poison. And if someone was disposing of the evidence it explains the hole in the blackout cloth as much as a distraction might." From kris.kunkel at gmail.com Thu Dec 30 07:49:57 2004 From: kris.kunkel at gmail.com (Knave of Amber) Date: Thu Dec 30 07:50:03 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: Hodges, Nicola and Michael In-Reply-To: <9f.555a6018.2f04dbb9@aol.com> References: <9f.555a6018.2f04dbb9@aol.com> Message-ID: <3b089f7c04123004496b6ac8d7@mail.gmail.com> > There was also a key that looked like the key to one of the flats - only it > bore the number 2. > "Did you find a loose key, eh Mr. Coldsmith-Briggs?" Hodges asked. "We > ought to return it if its a Mortmain key." He bent down for a closer > inspection. "It's for the Dowager's," Michael answers. "She asked me to look in on her dog last time she went to the country for the weekend. Lady Gower suggested I keep a hold of it in case she should forget her own and you're busy with something else." He mimics's Arabella's proper tone, "I'm sure that a noble man in uniform can be trusted with such things and the like." His grin is a little lopsided, but genuine. From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Thu Dec 30 08:41:10 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Thu Dec 30 08:41:19 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) In-Reply-To: <6.2.0.14.0.20041230054615.040368f0@mail.cac.net> Message-ID: <007801c4ee75$3b9e4930$96f1fea9@BriansPC> > At this point, the lift could be heard clanking through the > half open door of the flat. Someone had either summoned it, or > was using it. At the same time, a woman's voice could be heard > calling urgently from the top floor. > > Vangie looked up sharply and said "Who's using the lift?" Philip, frowning slightly, went to the flat door, opened it, and looked out and up. "Everything all right up there?" he called. From veazeyae at gmail.com Thu Dec 30 12:15:22 2004 From: veazeyae at gmail.com (Allen Veazey) Date: Thu Dec 30 12:23:38 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body - back to the Fitzroys In-Reply-To: <004c01c4ee50$749e1cd0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <20041229121619.87918.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com> <029b01c4ee0e$e74fb550$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D35C3E.7000807@elfworks.com> <41D35E04.2090404@textartisan.com> <41D3606D.50503@elfworks.com> <02d101c4ee13$40642230$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D3622B.6080800@elfworks.com> <41D36389.4030401@elfworks.com> <41D36562.3060203@textartisan.com> <004c01c4ee50$749e1cd0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: > Lucinda looked at them worriedly, and then said, "I have to stop Mr > Fitzroy!" > > She hurried to the top of the stairs and called down. "Mr Fitzroy! Stop > ... stop! It's most important!" > > She started to follow him down the stairs, just as the lift door could be > heard opening on the floor below. Meanwhile, Warren fetched the kit-bag that Pamela had pointed out; he fumbled with the catches, seeing that she had her hands full... From margdean56 at operamail.com Thu Dec 30 12:54:02 2004 From: margdean56 at operamail.com (Margaret Dean) Date: Thu Dec 30 12:54:06 2004 Subject: [MaC] Seperations: Oswald, Marion, James and Anton Message-ID: <20041230175402.C6DA021B32F@ws5-6.us4.outblaze.com> ----- Original Message ----- From: "Jvstin(Mindspring)" > on 12/30/2004 2:58 AM Mel Mason said the following: > >>>> Barowenski shrugged. > >>>> > >>>> "I do not know. When Mr Fitzroy told me to play, I went into > >>>> the lounge and played - in the darkness, yes. I was > >>>> concentrating on > >>>> the piece ... I started a second. Perhaps I was more > >>>> relaxed. Perhaps my eyes became more accustomed to the dark. > >>>> I don't know. > >>>> But ... I became aware that she was lying on the sofa. I started > >>>> to watch her, and I saw ... one eye, open. Staring. And ... I realised." > >>>> > >>>> He took a slug of brandy. > >>>> > >>>> Oswald frowned, but said nothing. > >>> > >>> > >>> > >>> "But when you first went back to your flat to begin playing, the > >>> lights were still on," Marion pointed out, her voice calm and even, > >>> but her gaze on Barowenski intent. "And Miss Diamond was still > >>> alive, because I recall her speaking to me at just about that same > >>> time." > >>> > >> > >> James turned to look at Anton. > >> > >> "She's right, the lights had not gone off before you got to your > >> flat." James put in. "Unless you had your lights off, or..." he > >> didn't finish the sentence but looked intently at Anton. > >> > > > > "I had the lights off," said Barowenski. He was staring down > > into his whisky. "But ... between my playing ... I went out onto > > the terrace. To breathe the night air. And for a cifarette, > > yes. It must have happened then!" > > > > "I remember the music stopping when we were all in the darkness > > with the Warden," said Oswald slowly, "but I would have thought > > it was for no more than a minute or so. Not enough time to cross > > to the window, step out onto the terrace without disturbing the > > blackout, smoke a cigarette and return." > > > > James looked at Oswald and Marion, and then to Anton. > > "Anton, if you are lying just to protect someone, somewhere > else..." His eyes met the musicians. "We can help. Lying about > these matters, in the end, helps no one." "Whatever it is," Marion seconded Oswald, intently, "it can't be as important as murder." > James looked at Anton intently and then spoke in Polish. > > "W J?zyku polskim (blask), je?eli wy ?yczycie?" --Margaret Dean -- _____________________________________________________________ Web-based SMS services available at http://www.operamail.com. From your mailbox to local or overseas cell phones. Powered by Outblaze From kcunningham40 at comcast.net Thu Dec 30 12:58:17 2004 From: kcunningham40 at comcast.net (Katie Fulton) Date: Thu Dec 30 12:58:40 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) References: <007801c4ee75$3b9e4930$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Message-ID: <017b01c4ee99$31492260$2200000a@FrontDesk> > At this point, the lift could be heard clanking through the > half open door of the flat. Someone had either summoned it, or > was using it. At the same time, a woman's voice could be heard > calling urgently from the top floor. > > Vangie looked up sharply and said "Who's using the lift?" Philip, frowning slightly, went to the flat door, opened it, and looked out and up. "Everything all right up there?" he called. "Bloody..." Richard finished his examination of his trousers, trying not to look too sour at the punctures. He followed Phillip. "Not again... Perhaps one of us should run up the stairs and see if its any easier to get in that way? We'll have to start posting signs or something..." From Mrfury28 at aol.com Thu Dec 30 13:01:47 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Thu Dec 30 13:01:54 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: Hodges, Nicola and Michael Message-ID: <156.476d2a8a.2f059c8b@aol.com> "So, there are a few empty flats currently, aren't there Hodges?" Michael asked. "I suppose someone might've been lurking in one of them for days perhaps looking for a opportunity." "Flats twelve, fifteen and eighteen are unoccupied, sir. And the insurance firm on the first floor is closed for the holiday. Though we can see if there's been any forced entry to their offices." Hiodges suggested. *** "And they really think it was strangulation? No poison?" he thinks out loud. "Last murder I saw that didn't have to do with this damn war was poison. And if someone was disposing of the evidence it explains the hole in the blackout cloth as much as a distraction might." "I'm not one to spread rumors sir." Hodges coughed apogetically. "But could it have been an accident? A drug overdose perhaps?" (OOC: Hodges did not leave the room to see the young actresses' corpse) -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041230/169d251a/attachment.htm From faespinner at yahoo.com Thu Dec 30 13:12:58 2004 From: faespinner at yahoo.com (Tara Kunkel) Date: Thu Dec 30 13:13:32 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) In-Reply-To: <017b01c4ee99$31492260$2200000a@FrontDesk> References: <007801c4ee75$3b9e4930$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Message-ID: <5.1.0.14.0.20041230131053.02881508@pop.mail.yahoo.com> > Philip, frowning slightly, went to the flat door, opened it, and looked out >and up. "Everything all right up there?" he called. > >"Bloody..." Richard finished his examination of his trousers, trying not to >look too sour at the punctures. He followed Phillip. "Not again... Perhaps >one of us should run up the stairs and see if its any easier to get in that >way? We'll have to start posting signs or something..." Braham followed the men to the door. "I can run if you'd like. I run them all the time. But it sounds to me like the elevator is moving. Perhaps it would be wisest to meet it on the ground floor. It is possible the murderer has decided to flee." He kept his tone low as he spoke. There was no point in alarming the ladies after all. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Thu Dec 30 13:28:00 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Thu Dec 30 13:27:49 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: Hodges, Nicola and Michael References: <156.476d2a8a.2f059c8b@aol.com> Message-ID: <007401c4ee9d$4b01c5a0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> > "Right then, gents," [Nicola] said as they left Flat No. 2. > "On to the second floor." As the three climbed the > stairs leading to the second floor, Nicola wished, not > for the first time, that she had thought to pack the > .38 Freddy had given her for protection. Foolishly, > she had thought she would be in LESS danger in London > than in New York. "And here we are, tracking a > murderer," she muttered under her breath. She, Michael > and Hodges reached the second floor. "So, there are a few empty flats currently, aren't there Hodges?" Michael asked. "I suppose someone might've been lurking in one of them for days perhaps looking for a opportunity." "Flats twelve, fifteen and eighteen are unoccupied, sir. And the insurance firm on the first floor is closed for the holiday. Though we can see if there's been any forced entry to their offices." Hodges suggested. "And they really think it was strangulation? No poison?" he thinks out loud. "Last murder I saw that didn't have to do with this damn war was poison. And if someone was disposing of the evidence it explains the hole in the blackout cloth as much as a distraction might." "I'm not one to spread rumors sir." Hodges coughed apogetically. "But could it have been an accident? A drug overdose perhaps?" (OOC: Hodges did not leave the room to see the young actresses' corpse) The flats on the second floor were, if anything, a little dull. Lord Benwick's flat was surprisingly drab for the London pied a terre of a young lordling like himself. The only interesting thing was a manuscript on the open writing desk - which puported to be by someone called Emile Harrington. James Drake's flat meticulously clean, neat and unassuming. There were several novels is Polish - it appeared the Minstry of Food clerk was fluent in the tongue. The writing desk in Warren Worthington's flat (or rather his uncle's flat) was firmly locked.up in a writing desk, or something. Not getting around much with his injured leg, he seemed to be pretty sloppy with everything else; although he did have a small trunk with an investigator's kit, something with fingerprint charcoal and a little microscope and a few chemicals. There was a space cleared out in one of the rooms - rather surprisingly, there was a sword here, resting in a scabbard. Perhaps he exercised with it. In addition, there was a trunk for his uniforms and other clothing, and otherwise his belongings were messy and not picked up. The fourth flat was that of the Skeffington-Nottles. Here they found James Drake and Anton Barowenksi speaking together in Polish, while Marion Mauberley and Oswald Skeffington-Nottle waited for them to switch back into English. Oswald hailed the searchers with something like relief. "Found anything significant?" he asked. From rpruehs at Itctransco.com Thu Dec 30 13:30:28 2004 From: rpruehs at Itctransco.com (Pruehs, Ree M.) Date: Thu Dec 30 13:30:08 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) Message-ID: > -----Original Message----- > From: murder_at_christmas-bounces@gamera.cc > [mailto:murder_at_christmas-bounces@gamera.cc] On Behalf Of > Tara Kunkel > Sent: Thursday, December 30, 2004 1:13 PM > To: murder_at_christmas@gamera.cc > Subject: Re: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) > > > > Philip, frowning slightly, went to the flat door, opened > it, and looked out > >and up. "Everything all right up there?" he called. > > > >"Bloody..." Richard finished his examination of his trousers, trying > >not to look too sour at the punctures. He followed Phillip. "Not > >again... Perhaps one of us should run up the stairs and see > if its any > >easier to get in that way? We'll have to start posting signs or > >something..." > > Braham followed the men to the door. "I can run if you'd > like. I run them > all the time. But it sounds to me like the elevator is > moving. Perhaps it > would be wisest to meet it on the ground floor. It is > possible the murderer > has decided to flee." He kept his tone low as he spoke. There > was no point > in alarming the ladies after all. Behind them Vangie demanded, "=What= is going on out there?" From faespinner at yahoo.com Thu Dec 30 13:39:40 2004 From: faespinner at yahoo.com (Tara Kunkel) Date: Thu Dec 30 13:40:12 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) In-Reply-To: Message-ID: <5.1.0.14.0.20041230133724.027608c8@pop.mail.yahoo.com> > > > Philip, frowning slightly, went to the flat door, opened > > it, and looked out > > >and up. "Everything all right up there?" he called. > > > > > >"Bloody..." Richard finished his examination of his trousers, trying > > >not to look too sour at the punctures. He followed Phillip. "Not > > >again... Perhaps one of us should run up the stairs and see > > if its any > > >easier to get in that way? We'll have to start posting signs or > > >something..." > > > > Braham followed the men to the door. "I can run if you'd > > like. I run them > > all the time. But it sounds to me like the elevator is > > moving. Perhaps it > > would be wisest to meet it on the ground floor. It is > > possible the murderer > > has decided to flee." He kept his tone low as he spoke. There > > was no point > > in alarming the ladies after all. > >Behind them Vangie demanded, "=What= is going on out there?" "We're not sure," Braham replied quietly so that they could hear voices coming from upstairs. "Someone is in the lift, someone else is yelling. You're safe here though. We'll help get it sorted out." With that he stepped into the hallway. "Anyone wish to follow me downstairs?" From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Thu Dec 30 13:42:19 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Thu Dec 30 13:42:06 2004 Subject: [MaC] Seperations: Oswald, Marion, James and Anton References: <20041230175402.C6DA021B32F@ws5-6.us4.outblaze.com> Message-ID: <007c01c4ee9f$4ae88660$0202a8c0@Behemoth> > > "I had the lights off," said Barowenski. He was staring down > > into his whisky. "But ... between my playing ... I went out onto > > the terrace. To breathe the night air. And for a cifarette, > > yes. It must have happened then!" > > > > "I remember the music stopping when we were all in the darkness > > with the Warden," said Oswald slowly, "but I would have thought > > it was for no more than a minute or so. Not enough time to cross > > to the window, step out onto the terrace without disturbing the > > blackout, smoke a cigarette and return." > > > James looked at Oswald and Marion, and then to Anton. > > "Anton, if you are lying just to protect someone, somewhere > else..." His eyes met the musicians. "We can help. Lying about > these matters, in the end, helps no one." "Whatever it is," Marion seconded Oswald, intently, "it can't be as important as murder." He raised his head and looked at her fully. "In life," he said quietly, "there are some things more important that death." > James looked at Anton intently and then spoke in Polish. > > "W JDzyku polskim (blask), jeE <017b01c4ee99$31492260$2200000a@FrontDesk> Message-ID: <008601c4eea0$04b782d0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> At this point, the lift could be heard clanking through the >> half open door of the flat. Someone had either summoned it, or >> was using it. At the same time, a woman's voice could be heard >> calling urgently from the top floor. >> >> Vangie looked up sharply and said "Who's using the lift?" > > Philip, frowning slightly, went to the flat door, opened it, and looked > out > and up. "Everything all right up there?" he called. > > "Bloody..." Richard finished his examination of his trousers, trying not > to > look too sour at the punctures. He followed Phillip. "Not again... Perhaps > one of us should run up the stairs and see if its any easier to get in > that > way? We'll have to start posting signs or something..." > A voice called back - Lucinda Skeefington-Nottle. "It's Mr Fitzroy! He's trying to leave - and really, he shouldn't!" The clunking sounds told that the lift had started its downward descent. >From where the two men stood, it would soon be trundling past. From dorothea at textartisan.com Thu Dec 30 13:49:00 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Thu Dec 30 13:51:03 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body - back to the Fitzroys In-Reply-To: References: <20041229121619.87918.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com> <029b01c4ee0e$e74fb550$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D35C3E.7000807@elfworks.com> <41D35E04.2090404@textartisan.com> <41D3606D.50503@elfworks.com> <02d101c4ee13$40642230$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D3622B.6080800@elfworks.com> <41D36389.4030401@elfworks.com> <41D36562.3060203@textartisan.com> <004c01c4ee50$749e1cd0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <41D44D9C.1070206@textartisan.com> > Meanwhile, Warren fetched the kit-bag that Pamela had > pointed out; he fumbled with the catches, seeing that she > had her hands full... "There's a pocket along the left-hand cover; the salts are in that," Pamela directed him as she searched Marjorie's skull for injuries. "Mind you don't cut yourself, now; I've got sharp scissors and a scalpel or two in there." From jjkatalenic at yahoo.com Thu Dec 30 13:54:56 2004 From: jjkatalenic at yahoo.com (Jonathan Katalenic) Date: Thu Dec 30 13:54:57 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: Hodges, Nicola and Michael In-Reply-To: <007401c4ee9d$4b01c5a0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <20041230185456.81943.qmail@web20223.mail.yahoo.com> The fourth flat was that of the Skeffington-Nottles. Here they found James Drake and Anton Barowenksi speaking together in Polish, while Marion Mauberley and Oswald Skeffington-Nottle waited for them to switch back into English. Oswald hailed the searchers with something like relief. "Found anything significant?" he asked. "No, nothing," Nicola lied. "We've finished the first and second floors and we haven't seen hide nor hare of any burglar." She peeked around him. "Unless you've found somebody in your flat, we were about to make our way up to the third floor." __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Send a seasonal email greeting and help others. Do good. http://celebrity.mail.yahoo.com From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Thu Dec 30 14:46:27 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Thu Dec 30 14:46:31 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) In-Reply-To: <008601c4eea0$04b782d0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <00a601c4eea8$40a29610$96f1fea9@BriansPC> > A voice called back - Lucinda Skeefington-Nottle. "It's Mr > Fitzroy! He's trying to leave - and really, he shouldn't!" > > The clunking sounds told that the lift had started its > downward descent. From where the two men stood, it would soon > be trundling past. Philip shot a look at Richard, then began moving downstairs. "Stay here, Aunt Evangeline; I'm not about to let anyone leave the building right now, particularly that ass." From jvstin at gmail.com Thu Dec 30 14:48:20 2004 From: jvstin at gmail.com (Jvstin) Date: Thu Dec 30 14:48:22 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: Hodges, Nicola and Michael In-Reply-To: <20041230185456.81943.qmail@web20223.mail.yahoo.com> References: <007401c4ee9d$4b01c5a0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <20041230185456.81943.qmail@web20223.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <36e1ae0304123011486ee469cc@mail.gmail.com> On Thu, 30 Dec 2004 10:54:56 -0800 (PST), Jonathan Katalenic wrote: > The fourth flat was that of the Skeffington-Nottles. > Here they found > James > Drake and Anton Barowenksi speaking together in > Polish, while Marion > Mauberley and Oswald Skeffington-Nottle waited for > them to switch back > into > English. > > Oswald hailed the searchers with something like > relief. > > "Found anything significant?" he asked. > > "No, nothing," Nicola lied. "We've finished the first > and second floors and we haven't seen hide nor hare of > any burglar." She peeked around him. "Unless you've > found somebody in your flat, we were about to make our > way up to the third floor." > James shook his head. "No, we've not seen anything here out of order. But one might hope in the end that in your search that you do. I mislike the implications if nothing incriminating is found anywhere." James explained. From hmace at elfworks.com Thu Dec 30 14:52:40 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Thu Dec 30 14:52:45 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body - back to the Fitzroys In-Reply-To: <41D44D9C.1070206@textartisan.com> References: <20041229121619.87918.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com> <029b01c4ee0e$e74fb550$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D35C3E.7000807@elfworks.com> <41D35E04.2090404@textartisan.com> <41D3606D.50503@elfworks.com> <02d101c4ee13$40642230$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D3622B.6080800@elfworks.com> <41D36389.4030401@elfworks.com> <41D36562.3060203@textartisan.com> <004c01c4ee50$749e1cd0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D44D9C.1070206@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <41D45C88.7070404@elfworks.com> >> Meanwhile, Warren fetched the kit-bag that Pamela had >> pointed out; he fumbled with the catches, seeing that she >> had her hands full... > > > "There's a pocket along the left-hand cover; the salts are in that," > Pamela directed him as she searched Marjorie's skull for injuries. "Mind > you don't cut yourself, now; I've got sharp scissors and a scalpel or > two in there." Marjorie moaned incoherently as Pamela probed her head for bumps. Fortunately the young woman didn't seemed to have injured her skull in the fall. From veazeyae at gmail.com Thu Dec 30 15:01:02 2004 From: veazeyae at gmail.com (Allen Veazey) Date: Thu Dec 30 15:01:04 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body - back to the Fitzroys In-Reply-To: <41D45C88.7070404@elfworks.com> References: <20041229121619.87918.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com> <41D3606D.50503@elfworks.com> <02d101c4ee13$40642230$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D3622B.6080800@elfworks.com> <41D36389.4030401@elfworks.com> <41D36562.3060203@textartisan.com> <004c01c4ee50$749e1cd0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <41D44D9C.1070206@textartisan.com> <41D45C88.7070404@elfworks.com> Message-ID: > > "There's a pocket along the left-hand cover; the salts are in that," > > Pamela directed him as she searched Marjorie's skull for injuries. "Mind > > you don't cut yourself, now; I've got sharp scissors and a scalpel or > > two in there." > > Marjorie moaned incoherently as Pamela probed her > head for bumps. Fortunately the young woman didn't > seemed to have injured her skull in the fall. Warren nodded, started moving much more slowly, but finally had a small black-capped bottle and handed it to Pamela. "Nothing serious, I hope?" he asked. "Maybe between the two of us, we can help her to the others... perhaps find a couch for her." From faespinner at yahoo.com Thu Dec 30 15:46:56 2004 From: faespinner at yahoo.com (Tara Kunkel) Date: Thu Dec 30 15:47:23 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) In-Reply-To: <00a601c4eea8$40a29610$96f1fea9@BriansPC> References: <008601c4eea0$04b782d0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <5.1.0.14.0.20041230154544.02740e50@pop.mail.yahoo.com> At 02:46 PM 12/30/2004, you wrote: > > A voice called back - Lucinda Skeefington-Nottle. "It's Mr > > Fitzroy! He's trying to leave - and really, he shouldn't!" > > > > The clunking sounds told that the lift had started its > > downward descent. From where the two men stood, it would soon > > be trundling past. > >Philip shot a look at Richard, then began moving downstairs. "Stay here, >Aunt Evangeline; I'm not about to let anyone leave the building right now, >particularly that ass." Braham was quick on his heels. The American could move very fast. He was certainly not about to let Fitzroy leave the building either. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Thu Dec 30 16:57:47 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Thu Dec 30 16:58:26 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) References: <008601c4eea0$04b782d0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <5.1.0.14.0.20041230154544.02740e50@pop.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <010c01c4eeba$99406b00$0202a8c0@Behemoth> > At this point, the lift could be heard clanking through the > half open door of the flat. Someone had either summoned it, or > was using it. At the same time, a woman's voice could be heard > calling urgently from the top floor. > > Vangie looked up sharply and said "Who's using the lift?" Philip, frowning slightly, went to the flat door, opened it, and looked out and up. "Everything all right up there?" he called. "Bloody..." Richard finished his examination of his trousers, trying not to look too sour at the punctures. He followed Phillip. "Not again... Perhaps one of us should run up the stairs and see if its any easier to get in that way? We'll have to start posting signs or something...">> > A voice called back - Lucinda Skeefington-Nottle. "It's Mr >> > Fitzroy! He's trying to leave - and really, he shouldn't!" >> > >> > The clunking sounds told that the lift had started its >> > downward descent. From where the two men stood, it would soon >> > be trundling past. >> >>Philip shot a look at Richard, then began moving downstairs. "Stay here, >>Aunt Evangeline; I'm not about to let anyone leave the building right now, >>particularly that ass." > > Braham was quick on his heels. The American could move very fast. He was > certainly not about to let Fitzroy leave the building either. In fact, the American was able to overtake Philip, and hurry down faster. Richard, meanwhile, was moving up the stairs, passing the descending lift. Marty stood stolidly in the iron cage, deliberately ignoring those people hurrying up and down. Lucinda came hurrying down, nearly bumping in to Richard. As she addressed him, her voice echoed up and down the lift shaft (and could thus be heard by people who might have come to the door of the flats). "Please ... stop him. I think he overheard ... Miss Diamond was ... was ill." In Vangie's flat, Esme gave a little wail. "She was - I knew it! She was going to have a baby!" (OOC - this will only be audible to people in the flat). The lift seemed to be jerking - travelling more slowly. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Thu Dec 30 17:05:37 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Thu Dec 30 17:05:46 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: Hodges, Nicola and Michael References: <20041230185456.81943.qmail@web20223.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <011401c4eebb$b1ae9440$0202a8c0@Behemoth> > The fourth flat was that of the Skeffington-Nottles. > Here they found > James > Drake and Anton Barowenksi speaking together in > Polish, while Marion > Mauberley and Oswald Skeffington-Nottle waited for > them to switch back > into > English. > > Oswald hailed the searchers with something like > relief. > > "Found anything significant?" he asked. > > "No, nothing," Nicola lied. "We've finished the first > and second floors and we haven't seen hide nor hare of > any burglar." She peeked around him. "Unless you've > found somebody in your flat, we were about to make our > way up to the third floor." > Before anything more could be said, there seemed to be an altercation on the stairs. The lift could be heard moving - and a woman's voice calling out. "That's Lou," said Oswald. "We'd better see what's going on." He headed towards the door - in time to hear Lucinda call out: "Please ... stop him. I think he overheard ... Miss Diamond was ... was ill." Oswald looked over his shoulder. "Hodges," he said, "can you stop the lift as well as start it?" From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Thu Dec 30 17:07:25 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Thu Dec 30 17:07:39 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body - back to the Fitzroys References: <20041229121619.87918.qmail@web60804.mail.yahoo.com><41D3606D.50503@elfworks.com><02d101c4ee13$40642230$0202a8c0@Behemoth><41D3622B.6080800@elfworks.com> <41D36389.4030401@elfworks.com><41D36562.3060203@textartisan.com><004c01c4ee50$749e1cd0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><41D44D9C.1070206@textartisan.com> <41D45C88.7070404@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <011801c4eebb$f1f3d380$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> > "There's a pocket along the left-hand cover; the salts are in >> > that," >> > Pamela directed him as she searched Marjorie's skull for injuries. >> > "Mind >> > you don't cut yourself, now; I've got sharp scissors and a scalpel or >> > two in there." >> >> Marjorie moaned incoherently as Pamela probed her >> head for bumps. Fortunately the young woman didn't >> seemed to have injured her skull in the fall. > > Warren nodded, started moving much more slowly, > but finally had a small black-capped bottle and > handed it to Pamela. > > "Nothing serious, I hope?" he asked. "Maybe between > the two of us, we can help her to the others... perhaps > find a couch for her." > Florence Beaman, who had been left in the Fitzroys' flat, now appeared in the service door. "Hello?" she called out in a voice that quavered a little. "What's happening?" From windeaglebjm at yahoo.com Thu Dec 30 17:10:05 2004 From: windeaglebjm at yahoo.com (Brenda McCartney) Date: Thu Dec 30 17:10:08 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) In-Reply-To: <5.1.0.14.0.20041230133724.027608c8@pop.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <20041230221005.60743.qmail@web50704.mail.yahoo.com> --- Tara Kunkel wrote: > > > > > Philip, frowning slightly, went to the flat door, opened > > > it, and looked out > > > >and up. "Everything all right up there?" he called. > > > > > > > >"Bloody..." Richard finished his examination of his trousers, > trying > > > >not to look too sour at the punctures. He followed Phillip. "Not > > > >again... Perhaps one of us should run up the stairs and see > > > if its any > > > >easier to get in that way? We'll have to start posting signs or > > > >something..." > > > > > > Braham followed the men to the door. "I can run if you'd > > > like. I run them > > > all the time. But it sounds to me like the elevator is > > > moving. Perhaps it > > > would be wisest to meet it on the ground floor. It is > > > possible the murderer > > > has decided to flee." He kept his tone low as he spoke. There > > > was no point > > > in alarming the ladies after all. > > > >Behind them Vangie demanded, "=What= is going on out there?" > > "We're not sure," Braham replied quietly so that they could hear > voices > coming from upstairs. "Someone is in the lift, someone else is > yelling. You're safe here though. We'll help get it sorted out." > With that > he stepped into the hallway. > > "Anyone wish to follow me downstairs?" "My stair-running days are long gone," Cryil said wryly. "I'll stay and make sure the ladies are all right." __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Meet the all-new My Yahoo! - Try it today! http://my.yahoo.com From nowsounds at comcast.net Thu Dec 30 17:08:12 2004 From: nowsounds at comcast.net (Nowsounds) Date: Thu Dec 30 17:10:57 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) References: <008601c4eea0$04b782d0$0202a8c0@Behemoth><5.1.0.14.0.20041230154544.02740e50@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <010c01c4eeba$99406b00$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <00d301c4eebc$6b2ba020$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> > > "Please ... stop him. I think he overheard ... Miss Diamond was ... was > ill." > > In Vangie's flat, Esme gave a little wail. > > "She was - I knew it! She was going to have a baby!" Arabella went to her immediately, sitting next to the distraught woman. "My dear Mrs. Fitzroy, whatever Miss Diamond was or wasn't going to do, it's not going to happen now. The poor young woman is dead and it sounds as if it was not a nice death at all. Now, until we know a great deal more, it is only going to make things more difficult for you if you let your imagination run wild..." She took the cup of tea and held it up to Esme's mouth. "You need to think of yourself. I suspect that you haven't much practice with that." > The lift seemed to be jerking - travelling more slowly. From Mrfury28 at aol.com Thu Dec 30 17:11:00 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Thu Dec 30 17:11:11 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: Hodges, Nicola and Michael Message-ID: <9d.5628977d.2f05d6f4@aol.com> Oswald looked over his shoulder. "Hodges," he said, "can you stop the lift as well as start it?" "I can try, sir. Mister Coldsmith-Briggs, can you assist me again?" Hodges hurried towards the lift to see what could be done to prevent Marty Fitzroy from leaving Mortmain... -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041230/922ca2a5/attachment.htm From windeaglebjm at yahoo.com Thu Dec 30 17:18:12 2004 From: windeaglebjm at yahoo.com (Brenda McCartney) Date: Thu Dec 30 17:18:15 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) In-Reply-To: <00d301c4eebc$6b2ba020$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> Message-ID: <20041230221812.15857.qmail@web50710.mail.yahoo.com> --- Nowsounds wrote: > > > > "Please ... stop him. I think he overheard ... Miss Diamond was > ... was > > ill." > > > > In Vangie's flat, Esme gave a little wail. > > > > "She was - I knew it! She was going to have a baby!" > > Arabella went to her immediately, sitting next to the distraught > woman. "My > dear Mrs. Fitzroy, whatever Miss Diamond was or wasn't going to do, > it's not > going to happen now. The poor young woman is dead and it sounds as if > it was > not a nice death at all. Now, until we know a great deal more, it is > only > going to make things more difficult for you if you let your > imagination run > wild..." She took the cup of tea and held it up to Esme's mouth. "You > need > to think of yourself. I suspect that you haven't much practice with > that." > > > > The lift seemed to be jerking - travelling more slowly. "She's so right, my dear," Cyril comforted Esme by patting her hand. It took a great effort to remain calm as he began to put the pieces together -- why Esme was so upset even before the murder, why Marty was unusually rude this evening, and why Nola had been so testy. At this moment, Cyril would like nothing more than to strangle Marty Fitzroy himself. __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around http://mail.yahoo.com From jjkatalenic at yahoo.com Thu Dec 30 17:27:25 2004 From: jjkatalenic at yahoo.com (Jonathan Katalenic) Date: Thu Dec 30 17:27:31 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: Hodges, Nicola and Michael In-Reply-To: <9d.5628977d.2f05d6f4@aol.com> Message-ID: <20041230222725.19942.qmail@web20223.mail.yahoo.com> Oswald looked over his shoulder. "Hodges," he said, "can you stop the lift as well as start it?" "I can try, sir. Mister Coldsmith-Briggs, can you assist me again?" Hodges hurried towards the lift to see what could be done to prevent Marty Fitzroy from leaving Mortmain... "Well, hang on, now!" Nicola said angrily, hurrying after Hodges and Michael. "You two aren't going anywhere without me. I can at least keep a look out to see if that damn Fitzroy is getting anywere near the ground floor." __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Send a seasonal email greeting and help others. Do good. http://celebrity.mail.yahoo.com From rmpruehs at cac.net Thu Dec 30 17:37:48 2004 From: rmpruehs at cac.net (Ree Moorhead Pruehs) Date: Thu Dec 30 17:38:35 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) In-Reply-To: <00d301c4eebc$6b2ba020$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> References: <008601c4eea0$04b782d0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <5.1.0.14.0.20041230154544.02740e50@pop.mail.yahoo.com> <010c01c4eeba$99406b00$0202a8c0@Behemoth> <00d301c4eebc$6b2ba020$6401a8c0@BarbaraLaptop> Message-ID: <6.2.0.14.0.20041230173505.03d565f0@mail.cac.net> >>"Please ... stop him. I think he overheard ... Miss Diamond was ... was >>ill." >> >>In Vangie's flat, Esme gave a little wail. >> >>"She was - I knew it! She was going to have a baby!" > >Arabella went to her immediately, sitting next to the distraught woman. >"My dear Mrs. Fitzroy, whatever Miss Diamond was or wasn't going to do, >it's not going to happen now. The poor young woman is dead and it sounds >as if it was not a nice death at all. Now, until we know a great deal >more, it is only going to make things more difficult for you if you let >your imagination run wild..." She took the cup of tea and held it up to >Esme's mouth. "You need to think of yourself. I suspect that you haven't >much practice with that." Vangie put a couple of biscuits on a plate and brought it over to them. "Sugar," she observed, "is good for shock." =And I know how you've dealt with women with-child in the past, my dear Mrs. Fitzroy.= Vangie allowed herself a small inward smile. =Perhaps just as well you don't appear to remember me. But I remember you. Oh yes...I remember you.= >>The lift seemed to be jerking - travelling more slowly. From jadethe2nd at yahoo.com Thu Dec 30 18:01:20 2004 From: jadethe2nd at yahoo.com (Jade) Date: Thu Dec 30 18:01:24 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body - back to the Fitzroys In-Reply-To: <011801c4eebb$f1f3d380$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <20041230230120.41297.qmail@web60806.mail.yahoo.com> --- Mel Mason wrote: > > >> > "There's a pocket along the left-hand > cover; the salts are in > >> > that," > >> > Pamela directed him as she searched Marjorie's > skull for injuries. > >> > "Mind > >> > you don't cut yourself, now; I've got sharp > scissors and a scalpel or > >> > two in there." > >> > >> Marjorie moaned incoherently as Pamela probed her > >> head for bumps. Fortunately the young woman > didn't > >> seemed to have injured her skull in the fall. > > > > Warren nodded, started moving much more slowly, > > but finally had a small black-capped bottle and > > handed it to Pamela. > > > > "Nothing serious, I hope?" he asked. "Maybe > between > > the two of us, we can help her to the others... > perhaps > > find a couch for her." "Here, give her some of this first," said Tabitha, who had reclaimed the glass of brandy she had abandoned when she follwed the others into Mr Barowenski's flat. She took a rather large gulp of it herself before holding it out to Warren. > > Florence Beaman, who had been left in the Fitzroys' > flat, now appeared in > the service door. "Hello?" she called out in a > voice that quavered a > little. "What's happening?" > __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Read only the mail you want - Yahoo! Mail SpamGuard. http://promotions.yahoo.com/new_mail From dorothea at textartisan.com Thu Dec 30 18:27:17 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Thu Dec 30 18:29:21 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body - back to the Fitzroys In-Reply-To: <20041230230120.41297.qmail@web60806.mail.yahoo.com> References: <20041230230120.41297.qmail@web60806.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <41D48ED5.6010809@textartisan.com> > Marjorie moaned incoherently as Pamela probed her > head for bumps. Fortunately the young woman didn't > seemed to have injured her skull in the fall. > "Here, give her some of this first," said Tabitha, who had reclaimed > the glass of brandy she had abandoned when she follwed the others > into Mr Barowenski's flat. She took a rather large gulp of it herself > before holding it out to Warren. Not finding any injuries, Pamela took Marjorie's hand in both of her own, not reaching either for the salts or the brandy. She looked back at Tabitha, brown eyes wide, not really wanting to put forth the conclusion she'd just jumped to. "Are you quite sure that -- in her condition -- alcohol is wise?" she asked, not loudly, her voice acquiring a perceptible wobble. From jadethe2nd at yahoo.com Thu Dec 30 18:44:00 2004 From: jadethe2nd at yahoo.com (Jade) Date: Thu Dec 30 18:44:03 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body - back to the Fitzroys In-Reply-To: <41D48ED5.6010809@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <20041230234400.3230.qmail@web60809.mail.yahoo.com> > > Marjorie moaned incoherently as Pamela probed her > > head for bumps. Fortunately the young woman > didn't > > seemed to have injured her skull in the fall. > > > > > "Here, give her some of this first," said Tabitha, > who had reclaimed > > the glass of brandy she had abandoned when she > follwed the others > > into Mr Barowenski's flat. She took a rather large > gulp of it herself > > before holding it out to Warren. > > Not finding any injuries, Pamela took Marjorie's > hand in both of her > own, not reaching either for the salts or the > brandy. She looked back at > Tabitha, brown eyes wide, not really wanting to put > forth the conclusion > she'd just jumped to. "Are you quite sure that -- in > her condition -- > alcohol is wise?" she asked, not loudly, her voice > acquiring a > perceptible wobble. > Tabitha stared at her. "You mean...?" she asked, snatching the glass back. She contemplated it for a moment, then raised it to her lips in her trembling hand and drank the rest of its contents in one go. "Makes sense, I suppose..." she said after a moment, before going to sit down on the nearest chair. __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Dress up your holiday email, Hollywood style. Learn more. http://celebrity.mail.yahoo.com From kris.kunkel at gmail.com Thu Dec 30 19:57:53 2004 From: kris.kunkel at gmail.com (Knave of Amber) Date: Thu Dec 30 19:57:55 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: Hodges, Nicola and Michael In-Reply-To: <20041230222725.19942.qmail@web20223.mail.yahoo.com> References: <9d.5628977d.2f05d6f4@aol.com> <20041230222725.19942.qmail@web20223.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <3b089f7c04123016577b7542c0@mail.gmail.com> On Thu, 30 Dec 2004 14:27:25 -0800 (PST), Jonathan Katalenic wrote: > Oswald looked over his shoulder. "Hodges," he said, > "can you stop the lift as well as start it?" > > "I can try, sir. Mister Coldsmith-Briggs, can you > assist me again?" Hodges hurried towards the lift to > see what could be done to prevent Marty Fitzroy from > leaving Mortmain... "Of course," the Group Commander answered. "Seems like we should've just left it before, eh?" he jokes, trying to bleed off some of the evening's stress. > "Well, hang on, now!" Nicola said angrily, hurrying > after Hodges and Michael. "You two aren't going > anywhere without me. I can at least keep a look out to > see if that damn Fitzroy is getting anywere near the > ground floor." "Wouldn't think of it dear," Michael answers. "Hodges, give her your rifle. She can guard the ground floor." From Mrfury28 at aol.com Thu Dec 30 22:26:49 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Thu Dec 30 22:26:57 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: Hodges, Nicola and Michael Message-ID: <147.3c395fb7.2f0620f9@aol.com> "Wouldn't think of it dear," Michael answers. "Hodges, give her your rifle. She can guard the ground floor." Hodges eyed Nicola doubtfully. "Do you know how to use a firearm, Miss Douglas?" -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041230/bd5e84a9/attachment.htm From jjkatalenic at yahoo.com Thu Dec 30 22:43:20 2004 From: jjkatalenic at yahoo.com (Jonathan Katalenic) Date: Thu Dec 30 22:43:22 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: Hodges, Nicola and Michael In-Reply-To: <147.3c395fb7.2f0620f9@aol.com> Message-ID: <20041231034320.31015.qmail@web20228.mail.yahoo.com> "Wouldn't think of it dear," Michael answers. "Hodges, give her your rifle. She can guard the ground floor." Hodges eyed Nicola doubtfully. "Do you know how to use a firearm, Miss Douglas?" In response, Nicola took the rifle, checked it and brandished it. "I've been hunting game on my family's estate since I was eight years old," she said. "I think I can handle it." __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Send holiday email and support a worthy cause. Do good. http://celebrity.mail.yahoo.com From veazeyae at gmail.com Fri Dec 31 00:01:39 2004 From: veazeyae at gmail.com (Allen Veazey) Date: Fri Dec 31 00:01:41 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body - back to the Fitzroys In-Reply-To: <20041230234400.3230.qmail@web60809.mail.yahoo.com> References: <41D48ED5.6010809@textartisan.com> <20041230234400.3230.qmail@web60809.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: > Tabitha stared at her. "You mean...?" she asked, > snatching the glass back. She contemplated it for a > moment, then raised it to her lips in her trembling > hand and drank the rest of its contents in one go. > "Makes sense, I suppose..." she said after a moment, > before going to sit down on the nearest chair. Warren couldn't help looking back in the room, then in the direction of where the UXB might be... outside. "Congratulations," he said, absently. From hmace at elfworks.com Fri Dec 31 04:00:44 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Fri Dec 31 03:58:31 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body - back to the Fitzroys In-Reply-To: References: <41D48ED5.6010809@textartisan.com> <20041230234400.3230.qmail@web60809.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <41D5153C.3060303@elfworks.com> >>Tabitha stared at her. "You mean...?" she asked, >>snatching the glass back. She contemplated it for a >>moment, then raised it to her lips in her trembling >>hand and drank the rest of its contents in one go. >>"Makes sense, I suppose..." she said after a moment, >>before going to sit down on the nearest chair. > > > Warren couldn't help looking back in the room, then > in the direction of where the UXB might be... outside. > > "Congratulations," he said, absently. Marjorie, her hands in Pamela's, suddenly startled awake. "What?" She looked around, confused. "What happened...?" From jvstin at mindspring.com Fri Dec 31 06:09:56 2004 From: jvstin at mindspring.com (Jvstin(Mindspring)) Date: Fri Dec 31 06:10:08 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: Hodges, Nicola and Michael In-Reply-To: <9d.5628977d.2f05d6f4@aol.com> References: <9d.5628977d.2f05d6f4@aol.com> Message-ID: <41D53384.6090600@mindspring.com> Before anything more could be said, there seemed to be an altercation on the stairs. The lift could be heard moving - and a woman's voice calling out. "That's Lou," said Oswald. "We'd better see what's going on." *James nodded, looking to Anton. "Will you be all right here?" he asked the musician. "Or do you want to come with us?" He headed towards the door - in time to hear Lucinda call out: "Please ... stop him. I think he overheard ... Miss Diamond was ... was ill." *James followed him, a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Oswald looked over his shoulder. "Hodges," he said, "can you stop the lift as well as start it?" > "I can try, sir. Mister Coldsmith-Briggs, can you assist me again?" Hodges > hurried towards the lift to see what could be done to prevent Marty Fitzroy > from leaving Mortmain... > "Of course," the Group Commander answered. "Seems like we should've just left it before, eh?" he jokes, trying to bleed off some of the evening's stress. >> "Well, hang on, now!" Nicola said angrily, hurrying >> after Hodges and Michael. "You two aren't going >> anywhere without me. I can at least keep a look out to >> see if that damn Fitzroy is getting anywere near the >> ground floor." "Wouldn't think of it dear," Michael answers. "Hodges, give her your rifle. She can guard the ground floor." Hodges eyed Nicola doubtfully. "Do you know how to use a firearm, Miss Douglas?" In response, Nicola took the rifle, checked it and brandished it. "I've been hunting game on my family's estate since I was eight years old," she said. "I think I can handle it." "Do you want to guard the ground floor alone?" James asked Nicola. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Fri Dec 31 06:37:35 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Fri Dec 31 06:39:09 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body - back to the Fitzroys References: <41D48ED5.6010809@textartisan.com> <20041230234400.3230.qmail@web60809.mail.yahoo.com> <41D5153C.3060303@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <00d401c4ef2d$1fde84e0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >>>Tabitha stared at her. "You mean...?" she asked, >>>snatching the glass back. She contemplated it for a >>>moment, then raised it to her lips in her trembling >>>hand and drank the rest of its contents in one go. >>>"Makes sense, I suppose..." she said after a moment, >>>before going to sit down on the nearest chair. >> >> >> Warren couldn't help looking back in the room, then >> in the direction of where the UXB might be... outside. >> >> "Congratulations," he said, absently. > > Marjorie, her hands in Pamela's, suddenly startled > awake. "What?" She looked around, confused. "What > happened...?" > "You'd better bring her into our flat," said Florence worriedly. She moved along the corridor till she came to the service door entrance to Number 19, which she opened with a key from her bag. The Beamans' flat was opulently (if a little shabbily) furnished. "Rest on the couch, dear," she instructed Marjorie. "I'll make everyone a nice cup of tea." She disappeared ino the kitchen. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Fri Dec 31 07:17:56 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Fri Dec 31 07:18:01 2004 Subject: [MaC] Back to the Top References: <9d.5628977d.2f05d6f4@aol.com> <41D53384.6090600@mindspring.com> Message-ID: <00e301c4ef32$c2dc5780$0202a8c0@Behemoth> >> "I can try, sir. Mister Coldsmith-Briggs, can you assist me again?" >> Hodges hurried towards the lift to see what could be done to prevent >> Marty Fitzroy from leaving Mortmain... >> > > "Of course," the Group Commander answered. "Seems like we should've > just left it before, eh?" he jokes, trying to bleed off some of the > evening's stress. > > > >> "Well, hang on, now!" Nicola said angrily, hurrying > >> after Hodges and Michael. "You two aren't going > >> anywhere without me. I can at least keep a look out to > >> see if that damn Fitzroy is getting anywere near the > >> ground floor." > > > "Wouldn't think of it dear," Michael answers. "Hodges, give her your > rifle. She can guard the ground floor." > > Hodges eyed Nicola doubtfully. "Do you know how to use a firearm, Miss > Douglas?" > > In response, Nicola took the rifle, checked it and > brandished it. "I've been hunting game on my family's > estate since I was eight years old," she said. "I > think I can handle it." > > "Do you want to guard the ground floor alone?" James asked Nicola. > James and Nicola went together downstairs to the ground floor - catching up with Philip on the way, and eventually meeting Braham who was at the foot of the stairs. Hodges and Michael went up ... to where the controls where mounted on the topmost service floor - passing Lucinda who was hurrying down, and arriving on the top level just in time to see Tabitha, Warren and Pamela guiding a badly shaken Marjorie into the Beamans' flat. Richard started up the stairs, passing the descending Marty, and met with Lucinda, just as Oswald came up to join them - leaving Anton and Marion alone together in the Skeffington-Nottles' flat. "What's going on?" demanded Oswald. "Nola had an abortion," said Lucinda briefly - although she cast a slightly wary look at Richard. "Tabitha spotted it - Pamela and Marjorie were both rather upset. Marty ... he guessed, I think, and dahed out. We need to find out what he knew." Her eyes met her husband's. "And whether he was responsible." A clank and a shout from Hodges told that the lift had been successfully halted. "Can you bring it back up?" called Oswald. Another pause - and then the lift started to ascend. "We'd best get people back up - if they want," said Oswald. "We'll need to ask some more questions ... but then it might be an idea if we tried to get some sleep ... The police will certainly turn up as soon as it gets light." And so Marty Fitzroy was hauled back ignominiously to the top floor, the door opened, and he was escorted into the Beamans lounge. Richard and Oswald took it upon themselves to inform everyone else what had happened - including the four who had reached the bottom of the stairs - although he did not explain to anyone at this stage Nola's condition. (OOC - who's going to the Beamans, and who is staying put? Some people might want to question other people in different flats) Esme flatly refused to move from the sofa in Vangie's flat. From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Fri Dec 31 07:35:57 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Fri Dec 31 07:36:12 2004 Subject: [MaC] Back at the Top References: <9d.5628977d.2f05d6f4@aol.com> <41D53384.6090600@mindspring.com> <00e301c4ef32$c2dc5780$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <00ed01c4ef35$47f5c210$0202a8c0@Behemoth> "Right," said Oswald, who had refused Mrs Beama's offer of tea, but who had taken several nips of scotch from his hip flask. "What happened?" Marty Fitzroy, still in his overcoat and sitting on the sofa, was sullenly silent. "We've diuscovered that Nola had an abortion," said Lucinda quietly. "Mrs Rosen spotted it - Lady Pamela and Miss Higgins were both rather upset. Mr Fitzroy ... he guessed what we had found out, I think, and dashed out." From brianschoner at bellsouth.net Fri Dec 31 07:50:40 2004 From: brianschoner at bellsouth.net (Brian Schoner) Date: Fri Dec 31 07:50:47 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) In-Reply-To: <010c01c4eeba$99406b00$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <00bf01c4ef37$581816f0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> > In fact, the American was able to overtake Philip, and hurry > down faster. > > Lucinda came hurrying down, nearly bumping in to Richard. As > she addressed him, her voice echoed up and down the lift shaft > (and could thus be heard by people who might have come to the > door of the flats). > > "Please ... stop him. I think he overheard ... Miss Diamond > was ... was ill." Philip made his best speed downstairs, and planted himself between the lift door and the apartment block's front door, a grim expression on his face. [OOC: I'm going to be incommunicado for the rest of today and much of tomorrow; sorry! Philip's approach will basically be to hit Fitzroy with an "and just where do you think *you're* going?" as he leaves the lift, and not let him past unless and until he provides a satisfactory answer. Talk to you all next year!] From dorothea at textartisan.com Fri Dec 31 10:18:20 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Fri Dec 31 10:20:24 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body - back to the Fitzroys In-Reply-To: <41D5153C.3060303@elfworks.com> References: <41D48ED5.6010809@textartisan.com> <20041230234400.3230.qmail@web60809.mail.yahoo.com> <41D5153C.3060303@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <41D56DBC.5040705@textartisan.com> > Marjorie, her hands in Pamela's, suddenly startled awake. "What?" > She looked around, confused. "What happened...?" "You passed out," Pamela said, patting her hand. "You're not hurt, and I don't believe you're ill. If you feel all right, you can sit up -- slowly, now. You may feel dizzy, or a bit cold; that's perfectly ordinary." > "You'd better bring her into our flat," said Florence worriedly. She > moved along the corridor till she came to the service door entrance > to Number 19, which she opened with a key from her bag. The Beamans' > flat was opulently (if a little shabbily) furnished. "Thank you, Mrs. Beaman; that's a lovely idea," Pamela said gratefully; certainly it was better than going back into the Fitzroys'! She helped Marjorie to her feet and shadowed her progress down the hall lest she go weak in the knees. > "Rest on the couch, dear," she instructed Marjorie. "I'll make > everyone a nice cup of tea." > > She disappeared ino the kitchen. With a wary glance first toward the door of the flat, then the kitchen door, Pamela leaned close to Marjorie on the couch to murmur, "Is there anything else I can do?" From kris.kunkel at gmail.com Fri Dec 31 14:07:19 2004 From: kris.kunkel at gmail.com (Knave of Amber) Date: Fri Dec 31 14:07:21 2004 Subject: [MaC] Back to the Top In-Reply-To: <00e301c4ef32$c2dc5780$0202a8c0@Behemoth> References: <9d.5628977d.2f05d6f4@aol.com> <41D53384.6090600@mindspring.com> <00e301c4ef32$c2dc5780$0202a8c0@Behemoth> Message-ID: <3b089f7c041231110765daf541@mail.gmail.com> > Richard and Oswald took it upon themselves to inform everyone else what had > happened - including the four who had reached the bottom of the stairs - > although he did not explain to anyone at this stage Nola's condition. "As thrilling as this was, I think we three should continue our sweep of the flats," Michael suggested to Hodges and Nicola. He heads off, determined to continue it without the others if the needs be. From jjkatalenic at yahoo.com Fri Dec 31 14:13:39 2004 From: jjkatalenic at yahoo.com (Jonathan Katalenic) Date: Fri Dec 31 14:13:40 2004 Subject: [MaC] Back to the Top In-Reply-To: <3b089f7c041231110765daf541@mail.gmail.com> Message-ID: <20041231191339.59830.qmail@web20222.mail.yahoo.com> Richard and Oswald took it upon themselves to inform everyone else what had happened - including the four who had reached the bottom of the stairs - although he did not explain to anyone at this stage Nola's condition. "As thrilling as this was, I think we three should continue our sweep of the flats," Michael suggested to Hodges and Nicola. He heads off, determined to continue it without the others if the needs be. "I agree," Nicola said, handing Hodges his rifle back. She followed Michael up the stairs to the third floor. "I think we should do those in order as well," she said as they climbed up the flights of stairs. "You know, darling- nine, ten, eleven, twelve." [OOC: Feel free to squash this if you'd rather have everybody upstairs in flat 20, Mel.] __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! Mail - You care about security. So do we. http://promotions.yahoo.com/new_mail From hmace at elfworks.com Fri Dec 31 14:28:33 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Fri Dec 31 14:26:34 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body - back to the Fitzroys In-Reply-To: <41D56DBC.5040705@textartisan.com> References: <41D48ED5.6010809@textartisan.com> <20041230234400.3230.qmail@web60809.mail.yahoo.com> <41D5153C.3060303@elfworks.com> <41D56DBC.5040705@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <41D5A861.30602@elfworks.com> > > "You passed out," Pamela said, patting her hand. "You're not hurt, > and I don't believe you're ill. If you feel all right, you can sit up -- > slowly, now. You may feel dizzy, or a bit cold; that's perfectly ordinary." "Silly me..." Marjorie sat up and rubbed the back of her head. "I'm just tuckered out, that's all. What a terrible night." >> "You'd better bring her into our flat," said Florence worriedly. She >> moved along the corridor till she came to the service door entrance >> to Number 19, which she opened with a key from her bag. The Beamans' >> flat was opulently (if a little shabbily) furnished. > > > "Thank you, Mrs. Beaman; that's a lovely idea," Pamela said > gratefully; certainly it was better than going back into the Fitzroys'! > She helped Marjorie to her feet and shadowed her progress down the hall > lest she go weak in the knees. > >> "Rest on the couch, dear," she instructed Marjorie. "I'll make >> everyone a nice cup of tea." >> >> She disappeared ino the kitchen. > > > With a wary glance first toward the door of the flat, then the > kitchen door, Pamela leaned close to Marjorie on the couch to murmur, > "Is there anything else I can do?" "Gods... tea?" Marjorie said plaintively. "Get me some of that brandy from the Fitzroy's instead, if you could..." From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Fri Dec 31 14:32:37 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Fri Dec 31 14:32:41 2004 Subject: [MaC] Back to the Top References: <20041231191339.59830.qmail@web20222.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <019101c4ef6f$7c118db0$0202a8c0@Behemoth> ----- Original Message ----- From: "Jonathan Katalenic" To: Sent: Friday, December 31, 2004 7:13 PM Subject: Re: [MaC] Back to the Top > Richard and Oswald took it upon themselves to inform > everyone else what had happened - including the four > who had reached the bottom of the stairs - although he > did not explain to anyone at this stage Nola's > condition. > > "As thrilling as this was, I think we three should > continue our sweep of the flats," Michael suggested to > Hodges and Nicola. He heads off, determined to > continue it without the others if the needs be. > > "I agree," Nicola said, handing Hodges his rifle back. > She followed Michael up the stairs to the third floor. > "I think we should do those in order as well," she > said as they climbed up the flights of stairs. "You > know, darling- nine, ten, eleven, twelve." > > > > [OOC: Feel free to squash this if you'd rather have > everybody upstairs in flat 20, Mel.] > (OOC - Not at all. Go for it! Could Margaret and Tara let me know off list is there is anything of interest to be found in their flats? And, while we are doing this, you too please, Ree/Brian, Josephina and Brenda. All on the same lines as those on the other floors). From faespinner at yahoo.com Fri Dec 31 14:58:13 2004 From: faespinner at yahoo.com (Tara Kunkel) Date: Fri Dec 31 14:58:34 2004 Subject: [MaC] Back to the Top In-Reply-To: <20041231191339.59830.qmail@web20222.mail.yahoo.com> References: <3b089f7c041231110765daf541@mail.gmail.com> Message-ID: <5.1.0.14.0.20041231145529.027da590@pop.mail.yahoo.com> At 02:13 PM 12/31/2004, you wrote: >Richard and Oswald took it upon themselves to inform >everyone else what had happened - including the four >who had reached the bottom of the stairs - although he >did not explain to anyone at this stage Nola's >condition. > >"As thrilling as this was, I think we three should >continue our sweep of the flats," Michael suggested to >Hodges and Nicola. He heads off, determined to >continue it without the others if the needs be. > >"I agree," Nicola said, handing Hodges his rifle back. >She followed Michael up the stairs to the third floor. >"I think we should do those in order as well," she >said as they climbed up the flights of stairs. "You >know, darling- nine, ten, eleven, twelve." Braham watched their retreat. "Someone really should stay down here," he said to no those remaining. "Just in case anyone else decides they are going to sneak out. I can do it, though to be truthful, I am probably better suited to questioning people should the need arise. My degree is in psychology after all. I have lots of experience conducting interviews." From Mrfury28 at aol.com Fri Dec 31 15:11:01 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Fri Dec 31 15:11:08 2004 Subject: [MaC] Back to the Top Message-ID: "I agree," Nicola said, handing Hodges his rifle back. She followed Michael up the stairs to the third floor. "I think we should do those in order as well," she said as they climbed up the flights of stairs. "You know, darling- nine, ten, eleven, twelve." "Hold up!" Hodges called out as he followed the pair upstairs. "Unless you are going to be breaking down doors, you'll need my pass key." He pointed out. "I'm certain the others can handle Fitzroy. But we still need to eliminate the possibility, however farfetched, that Miss Diamond was murdered by someone who is not a resident." "What happens in Bizarro World stays in Bizarro World!" - Captain Hero, Drawn Together -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041231/e62ea322/attachment.htm From dorothea at textartisan.com Fri Dec 31 15:21:23 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Fri Dec 31 15:23:27 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body - back to the Fitzroys In-Reply-To: <41D5A861.30602@elfworks.com> References: <41D48ED5.6010809@textartisan.com> <20041230234400.3230.qmail@web60809.mail.yahoo.com> <41D5153C.3060303@elfworks.com> <41D56DBC.5040705@textartisan.com> <41D5A861.30602@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <41D5B4C3.6040101@textartisan.com> > "Gods... tea?" Marjorie said plaintively. "Get me some of that > brandy from the Fitzroy's instead, if you could..." Pamela obligingly dropped the half-broached subject. "With everything that's happened, we're not to go anywhere alone," she said. "And I'm afraid I'm not terribly keen on anything to do with the Fitzroys just now. I wonder that you can drink at all, though -- if I started, I daresay I'd not have the will to stop!" From kcunningham40 at comcast.net Fri Dec 31 16:52:32 2004 From: kcunningham40 at comcast.net (Katie Fulton) Date: Fri Dec 31 16:54:46 2004 Subject: [MaC] Separations: The Group in Vangie's flat (revised) References: <00bf01c4ef37$581816f0$96f1fea9@BriansPC> Message-ID: <00e001c4ef83$081ed890$6400a8c0@gooberfeesh> > In fact, the American was able to overtake Philip, and hurry > down faster. > > Lucinda came hurrying down, nearly bumping in to Richard. As > she addressed him, her voice echoed up and down the lift shaft > (and could thus be heard by people who might have come to the > door of the flats). > > "Please ... stop him. I think he overheard ... Miss Diamond > was ... was ill." Philip made his best speed downstairs, and planted himself between the lift door and the apartment block's front door, a grim expression on his face. Richard looked back at the flat where the ladies were stored, and then at Lucinda... "Right-- You should go in with them. I don't think any of us should be alone." He then left her, trying to hear where Mr. Fitzroy had gone... From goldfired at oxmust.co.uk Fri Dec 31 18:59:19 2004 From: goldfired at oxmust.co.uk (Mel Mason) Date: Fri Dec 31 18:59:48 2004 Subject: [MaC] Back to the Top References: Message-ID: <028801c4ef94$c33a9090$0202a8c0@Behemoth> "I agree," Nicola said, handing Hodges his rifle back. She followed Michael up the stairs to the third floor. "I think we should do those in order as well," she said as they climbed up the flights of stairs. "You know, darling- nine, ten, eleven, twelve." "Hold up!" Hodges called out as he followed the pair upstairs. "Unless you are going to be breaking down doors, you'll need my pass key" He pointed out. "I'm certain the others can handle Fitzroy. But we still need to eliminate the possibility, however farfetched, that Miss Diamond was murdered by someone who is not a resident." They started with the empty flat - and it was copmpletely empty - the Carter-Rucks, who normally occupied it, had moved all their belongings down to Somerset for the furation of the war. Next they tackled Nola's flat. Here they spent somewhat longer. They discovered hypodermic needles concealed in a drawer of her desk, and some ampoules that declared they contained morphine. At least they had once. On the hearth in her living room, Nicola made a discovery - some burned paper. A red ribbon lay beside them - it seemed as though a bundle of letters had been burned. Only a single sheet of blackened paper remained - and that dissolved at a breath - but not before Nicola was able to make out the words, "Dear ... dearest ... why ... need ... forgive ... " They then moved on to Braham Davies' flat. At first glance it appeared rather spartan but neat, with lots of books and journals. His desk was a mess of papers and notes, some hastily scribbled on scraps of paper. As they looked a little more closely they saw that these notes detailed people's coming's and goings, with Mortmain Manions, their obvious activities and habits. Indeed, every inhabitant, it appeared, ahd their own file. From jadethe2nd at yahoo.com Fri Dec 31 19:01:44 2004 From: jadethe2nd at yahoo.com (Jade) Date: Fri Dec 31 19:01:52 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body - back to the Fitzroys In-Reply-To: <41D5B4C3.6040101@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <20050101000145.61672.qmail@web60805.mail.yahoo.com> > > "Gods... tea?" Marjorie said plaintively. "Get me > some of that > > brandy from the Fitzroy's instead, if you > could..." > > Pamela obligingly dropped the half-broached > subject. "With everything > that's happened, we're not to go anywhere alone," > she said. "And I'm > afraid I'm not terribly keen on anything to do with > the Fitzroys just > now. I wonder that you can drink at all, though -- > if I started, I > daresay I'd not have the will to stop!" > "I have to say I quite agree." Tabitha sat down on the other side of Marjorie from Pamela. "I was finding it quite difficult to restrain myself from just grabbing a bottle and drinking straight from it. But if there's a murderer on the loose I really do think we should try to keep our wits about us. I'm sure a nice cup of tea will calm us down more than enough." __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? The all-new My Yahoo! - What will yours do? http://my.yahoo.com From Mrfury28 at aol.com Fri Dec 31 19:58:57 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Fri Dec 31 19:59:04 2004 Subject: [MaC] Seperated - Nicola, Michael & Hodges Message-ID: <9f.55782b50.2f074fd1@aol.com> Next they tackled Nola's flat. Here they spent somewhat longer. They discovered hypodermic needles concealed in a drawer of her desk, and some ampoules that declared they contained morphine. At least they had once. Hodges sighed. "I saw a rather shady fellow visiting Miss Diamond several times from my flat. He must have been the one providing her with the morphine. I also found a used needle behind the flats... it must have been hers." On the hearth in her living room, Nicola made a discovery - some burned paper. A red ribbon lay beside them - it seemed as though a bundle of letters had been burned. Only a single sheet of blackened paper remained - and that dissolved at a breath - but not before Nicola was able to make out the words, "Dear ... dearest ... why ... need ... forgive ... " They then moved on to Braham Davies' flat. At first glance it appeared rather spartan but neat, with lots of books and journals. His desk was a mess of papers and notes, some hastily scribbled on scraps of paper. As they looked a little more closely they saw that these notes detailed people's coming's and goings, with Mortmain Manions, their obvious activities and habits. Indeed, every inhabitant, it appeared, had their own file. "Now that's curious. Rude, even for an American." Hodges commented. He picked up his own 'file' and opened it. -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041231/1fe31ca7/attachment.htm From hmace at elfworks.com Fri Dec 31 20:21:53 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Fri Dec 31 20:19:39 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body - back to the Fitzroys In-Reply-To: <20050101000145.61672.qmail@web60805.mail.yahoo.com> References: <20050101000145.61672.qmail@web60805.mail.yahoo.com> Message-ID: <41D5FB31.6020506@elfworks.com> >> >> Pamela obligingly dropped the half-broached >>subject. "With everything >>that's happened, we're not to go anywhere alone," >>she said. "And I'm >>afraid I'm not terribly keen on anything to do with >>the Fitzroys just >>now. I wonder that you can drink at all, though -- >>if I started, I >>daresay I'd not have the will to stop!" >> > > > "I have to say I quite agree." Tabitha sat down on the > other side of Marjorie from Pamela. "I was finding it > quite difficult to restrain myself from just grabbing > a bottle and drinking straight from it. But if there's > a murderer on the loose I really do think we should > try to keep our wits about us. I'm sure a nice cup of > tea will calm us down more than enough." "Bother," Marjorie sighed, sinking back into the couch between the two women. "I don't want to really think about anything right now." Then she gave Pamela a curious look. "So... Miss Diamond was going to die anyway? That means... if someone did kill her they probably didn't know that, right?" From jjkatalenic at yahoo.com Fri Dec 31 20:58:02 2004 From: jjkatalenic at yahoo.com (Jonathan Katalenic) Date: Fri Dec 31 20:58:04 2004 Subject: [MaC] Seperated - Nicola, Michael & Hodges In-Reply-To: <9f.55782b50.2f074fd1@aol.com> Message-ID: <20050101015802.10641.qmail@web20222.mail.yahoo.com> Next they tackled Nola's flat. Here they spent somewhat longer. They discovered hypodermic needles concealed in a drawer of her desk, and some ampoules that declared they contained morphine. At least they had once. Hodges sighed. "I saw a rather shady fellow visiting Miss Diamond several times from my flat. He must have been the one providing her with the morphine. I also found a used needle behind the flats... it must have been hers." "I'd suspected as much..." Nicola trailed off. "I spotted a needle in her purse once, but I never asked her about it. I thought she'd be incredibly angry if she did." On the hearth in her living room, Nicola made a discovery - some burned paper. A red ribbon lay beside them - it seemed as though a bundle of letters had been burned. Only a single sheet of blackened paper remained - and that dissolved at a breath - but not before Nicola was able to make out the words, "Dear ... dearest ... why ... need ... forgive ... " "'Forgive'? Forgive what?" Nicola asked herself. She shook her head as the paper crumbled to ashes. "Oh, Nola, what were you doing?" They then moved on to Braham Davies' flat. At first glance it appeared rather spartan but neat, with lots of books and journals. His desk was a mess of papers and notes, some hastily scribbled on scraps of paper. As they looked a little more closely they saw that these notes detailed people's coming's and goings, with Mortmain Manions, their obvious activities and habits. Indeed, every inhabitant, it appeared, had their own file. "Now that's curious. Rude, even for an American." Hodges commented. He picked up his own 'file' and opened it. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Hodges! Rudeness is not a feature of any one nationality- even mine!" Nicola snapped as she reached in and pulled her own pile of papers out. She began to leaf through the papers. __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Dress up your holiday email, Hollywood style. Learn more. http://celebrity.mail.yahoo.com From dorothea at textartisan.com Fri Dec 31 21:02:53 2004 From: dorothea at textartisan.com (Dorothea Salo) Date: Fri Dec 31 21:04:56 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body - back to the Fitzroys In-Reply-To: <41D5FB31.6020506@elfworks.com> References: <20050101000145.61672.qmail@web60805.mail.yahoo.com> <41D5FB31.6020506@elfworks.com> Message-ID: <41D604CD.7040400@textartisan.com> > "Bother," Marjorie sighed, sinking back into the couch > between the two women. "I don't want to really think > about anything right now." > > Then she gave Pamela a curious look. "So... Miss Diamond > was going to die anyway? That means... if someone did > kill her they probably didn't know that, right?" "Maybe not," Pamela sighed. "But maybe -- oh, this is really *too* awful -- maybe she wasn't going to die soon enough for someone." From hmace at elfworks.com Fri Dec 31 22:30:51 2004 From: hmace at elfworks.com (Heather Mace) Date: Fri Dec 31 22:28:36 2004 Subject: [MaC] Examining the body - back to the Fitzroys In-Reply-To: <41D604CD.7040400@textartisan.com> References: <20050101000145.61672.qmail@web60805.mail.yahoo.com> <41D5FB31.6020506@elfworks.com> <41D604CD.7040400@textartisan.com> Message-ID: <41D6196B.6040705@elfworks.com> >> >> Then she gave Pamela a curious look. "So... Miss Diamond >> was going to die anyway? That means... if someone did >> kill her they probably didn't know that, right?" > > > "Maybe not," Pamela sighed. "But maybe -- oh, this is really *too* > awful -- maybe she wasn't going to die soon enough for someone." Marjorie looked disturbed at the thought. "Um... so... she was strangled? That's what killed her?" tag Pamela, Tabitha, Warren> From Mrfury28 at aol.com Fri Dec 31 22:58:55 2004 From: Mrfury28 at aol.com (Mrfury28@aol.com) Date: Fri Dec 31 22:59:04 2004 Subject: [MaC] Seperated - Nicola, Michael & Hodges Message-ID: <1f1.3207f50b.2f0779ff@aol.com> "Now that's curious. Rude, even for an American." Hodges commented. He picked up his own 'file' and opened it. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Hodges! Rudeness is not a feature of any one nationality- even mine!" Nicola snapped as she reached in and pulled her own pile of papers out. She began to leaf through the papers. "I should say, present company excepted, Miss Douglas." Hodges stried to smile apologetically, and coughed obviously embarassed by his faux pas. -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: /pipermail/murder_at_christmas_gamera.cc/attachments/20041231/1f233963/attachment.htm