Hilary’s Who Done It – the answer …

Note the possible murderous characters: those in the post’s story, and at the Cluedo mansion …

This could be a Cluedo mansion

The setting:  the Cluedo mansion, an estate with industrial units and a Gatehouse.

Remember death came via the possibilities within the game of Cluedo.

 

A gatehouse

Nine words needed to be used in the original telling of the story see link to post above …

Who did do it …

Mr Marchant, the old boy from the Gatehouse, seemed to be around rather more than necessary asking the Cluedo mansion residents more questions than they felt were necessary; 

... they noticed that he too was in and out of the industrial units questioning all and sundry about Timothy’s unseemly death.

Natural causes it seemed to them ... but Mr Marchant’s nose was smelling a rat – had the Cluedo players played too much ... had reality set in?

Marchant was an unknown – he’d been to dinner parties at the Mansion, he’d appeared very erudite and interested in their goings on, while the community activities he quietly participated in ... so he knew the inhabitants, but they, so self-absorbed, had asked little about him – knew even less!

What had happened to Timothy?

Was the typography business a goner .. as had been suggested?

Was Jerome covering up for Rena, his sister, while she escaped for some ............ space?

Marchant, his unfaltering features, giving little away ... probed and probed ... the Detective leading the case began to lean on him ... DC Stevens realised lines of enquiry were being followed and Marchant was doing a fine job – leaving him, the DC, to establish other facts – or fiction .. or dare I say it lies.

Colonel Mustard in the Conservatory had the dagger tucked into his belt as always – he stirred his Moutarde de Maeaux to keep the Pommery mustard fresh .. and he was stingy – no-one was allowed to share.  His moustache was twitching just slightly – would anyone notice ... he was a jittery fellow .....

Reverend Green spent most of his time in the Library reading, researching and refuelling his brain – that most were full of envy about  it– it contained so much  ... a wealth of information.  

But the spanner ... why did he bookmark with a spanner – in this day and age? ... to keep it in his possession?  Ah – now that was a question.

Professor Plum, with his bruised and rotting plum coloured florid face, spent a great deal of time in the kitchen twiddling with his bottles and brews of sloes, damsons, plums...

... all well slobbered over - when the alcohol went in ... far too much ... but did he admit that ... no – enjoying the slurps too too much.  He kept spilling the wax from the Candlestick when he sealed the bottles – so that was forever present …

Ah ah .. the ladies – Miss Scarlett .. she would need the revolver ... she was of the ilk that made that instant – pull the trigger decision ... bang bang and you’re dead – but Timothy didn’t die that way.  

Bang bang ... she was in the billiard room – bonging the balls around ... making that dreadful unpredictable noise – buffeted between the ballroom and the hall ... a muffled sound perhaps ...

Mrs White the all pristine ex housekeeper .. who abhorred all dirt, wove her cleanly ways through life – or was she ... the rope she used was always tattered ... she unwove it to tidy away dirty things ...

Not so pristine, but I couldn't resist her

... then rewove the rope after she'd cleared that mess away; she was thrifty – but ... Marchant felt there was a ‘but’ ... she lounged a lot ... in the lounge ...

Mrs Peacock .. now there’s ‘a one’ Marchant thought ... all splutter and not much body .. certainly not a body like Miss Scarlett ... but she was a home-maker ... 

... she was always in the Dining Room setting lunch or dinner ... ready for carving whatever joint might be served .. the dagger at the ready .. ah – what dagger – Colonel Mustard had the dagger .. didn’t he?

Marchant pondered on ... Stevens too – they both checked out the Typographical business ... Rena and Jerome were distraught at their father’s sudden demise – why? ... without warning ... how?  The answers didn’t immediately come …

Joe the typesetter was a sturdy fellow ... sure in his work, Amanda the glyph modifier – now there was something indecipherable about her ... did she know more than she let on about her craft; 

.... while Andrew the art director appeared to be managing the project rather than being artistic and, dare I say it, crafty?

Various items from the Mansion were sent away for analysis ...

Marchant went into the Library with the Reverend Green and they had long and quiet discursive musings ... the Reverend getting up and bringing books to be referred to ... what were they looking into ..

The modern way of instant research via the internet seemed the most satisfactory to the industrial unit and similar inhabitants ... but to the Cluedo residents .. what on earth was going on ... 

... the Mansion did not have WiFi ... so connection could not be made … nor were they interested in all things technical …

Marchant and Stevens conferred at the Gatehouse, WiFi was available ... everyone was held in thrall .. suddenly a meeting was called to the community hall on the estate ... everyone was rounded up to attend ... all were called away – no matter how inconvenient …

How did Timothy die?

The closet was off the Hall in the Cluedo Mansion ... why had Timothy been there at all?

Stevens began by welcoming everyone – to a murder investigation ... seemed strange ... while Marchant kept a wary eye ... the DC taking everyone through the events ...  then at last introducing Marchant ... 

... as Chief Superintendent Marchant of the Metropolitan Police – everyone’s mouths dropped and their eyes widened ... now they knew ... why he knew so much, but they knew so little ..

... Marchant summarised and then quietly looking at Colonel Mustard, the man with the feathering moustache, that occasionally twitched, - could he see the dagger – ah yes! a copy from the theatre props; 

... then Marchant suggested that the lead pipe had had a slice off it ... that slice being left in the mustard over the years ... causing Timothy a slow death ... Colonel Mustard was mean ... his Meaux was not to be shared ... even on Timothy’s sandwiches ... 

... so the generous offering at Christmas was not generous ... it was a poison threat over many years ... Timothy suffered as he regularly added Moutarde de Meaux to his lunchtime sandwiches ... which Colonel Mustard so ‘generously’ offered to refill – ensuring the poisoning went on.

Where was the lead pipe?  Had it ever had a slice removed ... well, we will never know – Joe the typesetter said he’d recently been given the lead pipe by Colonel Mustard to make some replacement typefaces ... 

... and yes it was about the time Timothy kept on being unwell ... the lead pipe had been flattened in the process ...

Colonel Mustard started blustering and blabbering ... but to no avail ... he’d been caught out ... in the end in the Closet with the leadpipe ... 

Tea, drinks shortly .... still playing games

.... off with his head – as the saying goes.

Then they all went home for tea ... or a drink ... 

Hilary Melton-Butcher

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