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SnowFire
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New York City, NY
Jan 1970
time: 00:36
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Indeed, Mr. Hercules Poirot is correct about the correspondence between almost double the number of the room number, minus one. Tell me Dr. Watson, before you perish, would scissors be consistent with these wounds as our Belgian friend has hypothesized?
The Olympian stature of Mr. Poirot as pointed out before does put himself as a suspect, though. Perhaps that was his code for himself.
Hmm, this is a busy year indeed for me. After my wonderful exploits in "The Entertaining Episode of the Article in Question," "The Fascinating Problem of Uncle Meleager's Will," "The Fantastic Horror of the Cat in the Bag," and "The Learned Adventure of the Dragon's Head," this should provide quite a cap to the year. (Really.
Now where's my tea?
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duke o' york
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Chapter Two – In Denial
All those aboard the Apolyton spent a nervous day and Derrick narrowly avoided a heart attack after Jonny dropped a tray of glasses in Skanky’s bar. Everything seemed to be a threat, and this led to strained relations between many of the guests, who all seemed to be trying to ask one another loaded questions to try to surprise the murderer into giving him/herself away.
Several people aboard found it very hard to believe that such a thing could have happened, and the Earl of Octavian in particular was vocal about the worth of all these detectives if they were unable to spot, and to stop, a murderer in their very midst. This led to some unpleasant scenes on the sundeck as the non-detectives cast doubt on the abilities of their fellow-passengers. The scenes became even more unpleasant after M. Maigret was almost hit by a flying deck quoit when he walked too close to a game between the Duc de Pavelles and gjramsey, taking some time off to enjoy the sunshine.
Inside, things were more peaceful, but unfortunate HongHu was on the receiving end of Charlie Chan’s rambling reminiscences, and was not about to get any help from Inspector Morse, once again making himself familiar with Skanky’s optical arts. Lord Peter Wimsey rolled his eyes, and went to look through the wares offered by the traders who had pulled their boats up to the Apolyton to sell souvenirs. The traders had not been doing particularly well recently, and were again disappointed when Lord Peter was called back into the dining room by Captain Nuclear Master, who had counted the votes cast for the mafia suspect. He cleared his throat to get the attention of all those present and, pleased with the attention, did it again for effect. Nudged by his first mate, he read out the results of the votes.
“It has been a very close thing, and one might suspect tactical voting by certain people eager to deflect attention away from themselves,” at which point several people in the room shifted about nervously, “but the most votes were for DrSpike, and so he shall be removed from the ship. By force.” There was much surprise at this, but Miss Marple reminded everyone that the killer might strike again, so that it was for the best that he be “made safe”. Saying so, she whacked him round the back of the head with her heavy handbag, and knocked him to the floor. Everyone moved in and kicked the prone body, before Zopperoni was ordered to carry the body to the side of the boat and to throw it in the water.
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief that the killer had been caught, and all went into the bar to take advantage of Skanky’s expert service, and Jonny’s less-than-expert service. Zopperoni spent a good hour trying to repair the jukebox, and had eliminated almost all of the potential problems when HongHu walked past and asked why he didn’t just unplug it. That did the trick, and so people were able to once again go about their business without a horribly tinny noise going around their heads. Unfortunately, once again their business seemed to mostly involve re-engaging the challenge thrown down to Skanky’s spirits rack the evening before. The crew members shook their heads as before and proceeded to smoke their hookah. Unbeknown to them, Pimp Daddy had brought along a little something to help everybody relax a bit more, and had carelessly left it in the hookah. The results made Rasputin almost fall over (again) with laughing. And gin.
The party was going on as before when gjramsey ran into the bar and shook the Captain back into consciousness. He led everybody along the rails of the boat where they found another most terrible sight. The body of Hercules Poirot was hanging from the rail by a rope, and trailing over the side of the boat. It took two men to pull up the body of the portly Belgian, and his body was in a particularly bad state. It seemed that the Apolyton had been passing by another boat when he was thrown overboard, and that he had landed on the other boat and died instantly. It was not possible to identify the time that he had been launched overboard, although Sherlock Holmes noted a burn mark around his neck, and some blood was still trickling out of the wound so it couldn’t have been so long ago. Unfortunately no-one had heard the cries of the other boat’s crew as they were all in the bar . Everyone but the mafia.
Leaving the scene, the Earl of Octavian noticed some wisps of a thin brown material in a pile on the deck, but before he could examine them they were blown into the Nile by the wind. He was tempted to do some detective work of his own, but decided to share his knowledge with the others in the hope that they could catch the killer before the killer caught him.
Back in the bar, the captain had recovered enough to suggest that everyone retire to bed, and that they would hold another vote for the mafia in the morning. But for the time being, he was really, really hungry and didn’t understand why.
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Apolyton Time is 00:36. |
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20-05-2004 21:30
Attachment: 
53-27=26.
Gads! And people pay you to solve crimes?
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