Murder in the Great Hall

[unaspenser]

I am SHOCKED and insulted that anybody would DARE accuse my dear husband of such a despicable crime! Even though Mr. Panache was terribly miserly and rude to Arlen, he is innocent and I refuse to allow his name to be dragged through the mud!

[Pleater]

I was being serious about davedove - what if this is all a plot to take revenge on everyone who wanted money from Panache?

Any one of us could be accused of murder, or perhaps none of the former partners will even survive this meeting.

We could all be doomed!!

[davedove]

“Pleater, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Medically speaking, the alcohol is fermenting your mind."

"Now, MY primary suspect is Livingston because Mr. Panache found out that Greg and his lowlife assistant lost heavily on some gambling debts—they like the ponies, you know--and their debtors are after him. They need money and lots of it because these debtors are the types that put you in cement shoes if you don’t pay. With Mr. Panache dead, Mr. Livingston would be likely to get control of his money, being a prime candidate as Jamie’s successor."

[Livingston]

Mr. Livingston turns away from Mr. Dove and comments to no one in particular.

“And some people should keep their noses out of things that are not their concern.”

[Clockwork John]

Scribbling in my notebook and talking to myself, “Was out of control gambling the motive for murder? Are criminal elements to blame for the death of a Moderator?”

[Wompet]

Criminals - Gambling - Debts - MURDER - THIS IS ALL TOO MUCH!!

Wompet's voice raised in pitch until it became a waivering howl, punctuated by gasping sobs. Bawling his eyes out, he stumbles blindly over Mr. Tibbles, who was inoffensively chewing on a leg of a corner chair. Wompet snatches up Mr. Tibbles, and hugs him like a snarling, spitting little teddy bear. He then reels from the room, his wailing mixing wth Mr. Tibbles' gnashing to create a ear-splitting cacophony.

[unaspenser]

Spotting Arlen entering the room, she runs to his side and grasps his arm, gazing worriedly into his eyes, tears running down her cheeks

Oh, Arlen, my dear... Jamie is dead! Our dear friend has been murdered!

She sobs hysterically into her hands. Arlen lifts a shaking hand to his brow, then drops his head into his palms and shudders with sobs

Oh my poor sensitive dear. I fear this experience may be too much for someone of your exquisite emotional depth... we must take this opportunity to reach out to our friends in this time of tragedy.

She begins to lead him from person to person, patting him gently on the back and stroking his hair

[Clockwork John]

Scribbling in my notebook and talking to myself, “Starving artist claims to be crushed by death of his benefactor, but is he really?”

[davedove]

GENERAL CHATTER

Offer your sympathy to the poor sensitive poet or quietly debate who the murderer may be.

[vmac3205]

Oh Arlen, I know how devatsated you must be. I can't believe there are people blaming you. What are they thinking? I, for onr, think all that scribbling that John is doing is verrrry suspicious. Hmmmm, thinking up excuses, I say.