Murder in the Great Hall

[Livingston]

Coemgen, settle down. We don't want to be noticed in that way. This announcement of Panche's had better be good. It's about time he sent more funds our way.

That game last night, I can't believe he was sitting there with a full house.

Where's that whisky?!?

[davedove]

END CHATTER

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[davedove]

At the appointed time, one of the men seated at the main table rises and addresses all those in attendance.

“Hello everyone,” the man says, “and welcome to the Inaugural Hogmanay Celebration of X Marks the Scot. My name is Mr. Dove and I am the emcee for this evening’s event. I hope you all had a chance to meet one another. If not, I’m sure you will before the evening is over. But for now, it is time to start the festivities. Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to introduce your host for this evening, Mr. Panache.”

[Panache]

I heard Mr. Dove’s announcement and Mr. Splash inquired “now Sir?”

I shook my head and hummed a little tune to myself.

“One, two, three, four
Let them sweat beyond the door
Five, six, seven, eight
It always pays to make them wait
Nine, ten, eleven…”

It is always best to make a stylish and dramatic entrance.

“…now I should think Mr. Splash”


Mr. Splash pushed my wheelchair through the portal and into the room.

The assembled guests appeared somewhat taken aback at my disabled condition. I offered them a slight wave and opened my lips to speak but was overtaken with a long painful coughing fit.

Oh well, so much for “stylish” I thought.

Now if I had been hoping for looks of sympathy or concern from any of the assembled guests as my whole frail body was racked by the convulsive coughing I would have been sorely disappointed…

…lucky for me I knew them all and had no such hope.

My cough subsided and I wiped away a few tears from my eyes with a silk handkerchief.

“A little something medicinal for my throat if you would Spasm” I croaked to our aged retainer. Spasm, in an almost unprecedented act of competence, immediately offered me an ice cold Gibson on a silver platter.

Taking the cocktail glass I toasted my guests with a cheerful though hoarse voice, “Good evening one and all, as all you all are equally welcomed to the Great Golden Hall of X Marks the Scot this fine evening”. With this I drank a generous measure of the lovely martini which restored some of my good humor, if not my voice before continuing.

“I do beg your pardon. As the more clever of you may have surmised by now, I am not in the best of health. Last night I had an…incident. Lucky for me my dear Mr. Splash chose in this instance to take me to the hospital instead of jumping on me to shield me with his body from an imagined assassin’s bullet as he (and a few other overzealous gentlemen) have been wont to do in the past. Good thing as that would have certainly finished me off.”

I sipped my Gibson and regarded the faces staring at me. The idea of my sudden demise gathered as much concern from my guests as my coughing had.

sigh

“In any case, it was a heart attack as Mr. Splash thought, but a minor one. Unfortunately I suffer from a bad heart and these attacks are not altogether uncommon or unexpected. The doctors wanted to keep me another day for observation but I simply wouldn’t hear of it! I couldn’t miss my own party to celebrate my good fortune since joining the celebrated League of the Moderators. And, of course, the chance to see so many friends and associates in person. You have all been so kind since I settled in here with your myriad of letters, phone calls, and telegrams. Obviously you have kept me in your thoughts. So I do hope this will be a memorable evening "

[Pleater]

Memorable!!

Blast these curtains!!

Somebody should remember that somebody's partners have been waiting for some considerable time for their unfortunate situation to come to somebody's mind.

Maybe acceptance into the League of Moderators causes selective amnesia.

[Panache]

Madam Pleater seemed quite put out and I could well guess what her angry mumblings were about.

I gave a smile and spoke to her, “My dear Anne I am quite sorry if I haven’t been overly receptive to your requests for…funding. The idea of advancing my hard earned gains to you on such … minimal data was a sobering prospect… well for at least one of us.

Madam Pleater regarded me with a steely, though to be frank, somewhat bleary look I had grown accustom to in our previous business ventures together. I was saved the necessity of further response by another overwhelming bad coughing fit. Spasm came to my aid with another refreshing (and of course thoroughly medicinal) gin based restorative.

I continued, “Fear not, regardless of past errors or failings on the part of you and my other friends and associates, which you Anne will undoubtedly be delighted to know includes long periods of inebriated irresponsibility, shall be taken care of!

I am a nothing if not a forgiving person and wish it known that when the tragic day comes that my heart finally does give out and I elegently Strathspey off this mortal coil. I will see that you are taken care off – one way or the other. As to whether or not you find this to your satisfaction or not. I can’t say. But I can promise you and everyone else will all get what you deserve.”

Mr. Spash took this moment to start chuckling.

I turned to face my loyal helper “you had something to add Mr. Splash?”

He looked sheepishly “Err…No Captain…err…I mean Sir”

Sigh

I again faced the generally less-than-adoring faces of my…charming guests.

“Please excuse Mike’s rather odd sense of humor. He is a decent man and has proven beyond a doubt to be trustworthy and loyal beyond all doubt…unlike certain others in this room. I know he would do anything for me if I made the request which is why I trust him completely now in my somewhat incapacitated state. To be frank I would put the keys to my gin cellars in his capable hands.”

There was a gasp from the crowd at this startling revelation.

Trying my best to suppress another cough I continued “It should come to no surprise that Splashie is the sole executor of my will. Though it is a small title and rather meaningless as I fully expect to live to a ripe old age regardless of this bad ticker of mine.”

Mr. Splash gave me a reassuring smile

I continued “Of course all the good will that surrounds me tonight from all you close friends and associates warms and reassures me to no end. I know you all wish me a long, prosperous, and healthy life”.

I looked to Mr. Livingston who was greedily stuffing several shrimp into his mouth at once.

“Don’t you Greg?”

[Livingston]

“But Jamie,” he says, “I can honestly say to you that all of us feel that for you to pass on before your time would be a tragedy beyond belief.”

mumbling where did that trash can go, I need to get rid of these shrimp tails. He's up to something, I just know he is.

[Panache]

I saw Livingston's hands fumbling with a surprisingly large amount of shrimp tails, trying to conceal a number of them in his sporran, waistcoat and jacket pockets. I thought to myself, Good Lord does he think he is part cetacean and needs his daily allotment of krill? I'd best put him in touch with Krillco*!

I replied to him " Ah, that is just what I thought.”



*Krillco: http://www.cal.net/~wilsons/krill/index.html

[unaspenser]

Looking around furtively to make sure all eyes are on Panache, she runs to his side, stumbling and pressing the back of her hand to her forehead, gasping dramatically

"Oh my dear Jamie! I cannot bear to see you in such agony! Please, allow me to use my healing energies to help you!"

She places a hand on Panache's forehead and another on the top of his head and begins chanting and swaying before dramatically dropping to her knees next to his wheelchair...

"My dear Jamie, It pains me to know you and Arlen quarreled so dreadfully. I'm so sorry for all of it. I know it's a large investment, but a new wing for the library would be perfect to showcase my genius husband and his amazing poetry. I hope you know how sorry Arlen is that he lost his temper. That's what's taking him so long to arrive, you know. He's coming to apologize in person, but the only way to express deep feelings, besides dance of course, is through poetry. He's just taking a little more time to make sure it's perfect."

Nodding, Panache waves her away with a muttered thank you and another sip from his glass.

As she returns to her seat, she begins to mutter to herself...

"Maybe that blasted poem will show you my Arlen's poetry really is something special, not that you'd know art if it knocked you over the head... greedy old bugger."

[Panache]

I watched the dancer sashay off back to her seat.

Unaspencia's "laying of hands" on my person may not have done my heart any good but she did accomplish messing up my carefully styled hair.

sigh

I tried the best I could restore my locks with my somewhat limited mobility and sipped my drink.

Which I found to be getting warm.

sigh

As everyone knows I abhor a warm martini. I gestured for Spasm to take my glass re-shake it as I often have done while slowly savoring a cocktail. He took the glass and above the din of the crowd and I heard the delightful tinkling sound of a shaker. Moments later someone placed my glass in my hand and I welcomed the return of my gin and vermouth to their state of icy cold perfection.

I had even been given a couple of fresh pickled onions in it so perhaps the evening was looking up.

Then I saw a familiar figure fast approaching me and that idea went straight out the window.

sigh