The Excelsior

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Lord Caspen
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Re: DAY ONE ... Continued

Post by Lord Caspen » Sat Aug 28, 2010 4:30 am

[OOC: Not sure where PrinceAzure has gone, but the game must go on. When he gets back, if he wants to post June and Lionel's arrival, he can insert something]
CluedoKid wrote: "Practice makes perfect, huh?" Diane chuckled back, "Come to think of it, I think most dentists need a little practice, don't you?"
"Oh, my God!" Bethany said. "That's Clue! Oh, I love that movie, I've seen it a thousand times!"
A minute or so later, Carlos Bello approached the sofa where Cheryl Pryce was sitting at.

"Oh hi Cheryl," He whispered, "If Mr. Pryce was looking for me, you could tell him that I'm ready."
Just then, Stanford Pryce went back for a look in the Great Parlor and found Carlos. Suddenly, his shoulders dropped and his face lit up and he crossed the room with a bright smile.

"Carlos!" he said. "Oh, good heavens, I was beginning to think Caroline had got it wrong and you weren't going to make it! Thank God you're here ... We can begin now, if you're ready?"

How did he get in here past me? he wondered, but let it pass. He counted the persons present: fourteen. Good. Excellent.

"Ladies and gentlemen, and Mark," he said. "Friends, family, business partners, all ... and Mark, of course. It gives me great pleasure to see you all here for this little affair, and this momentous occasion: the Devil of Wall Street is handing off his cape and pitchfork, to become the terror of island girls everywhere! A forty-year career is drawing to an early close, and this old goat will be identifiable still only by his horns."

[Cue interjections, if any]

Stanford paused for effect. No one could say he didn't know how to command an audience.

"But we've also grave matters to discuss. That is why I brought you here, and why I assembled you in this room tonight."

Another pause. He looked into the eyes of several of his guests, and something about that gaze seemed to pin there each person, like butterflies in cases. Then he smiled again.

"But first," he said, "a little music. You may remember my working vacation last year, in Cancun? I met there this extraordinary young man, a remarkable vocal talent who has dominated nightclubs across Central America ... The incomprable Carlos Bello! Get up, Carlo, and give us a song!"

Stanford himself found a seat next to Nan on her sofa.

"Comfy, hey?" he said.

[Cue Carlos]
Last edited by Lord Caspen on Sat Aug 28, 2010 2:14 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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Post by CluedoKid » Sat Aug 28, 2010 4:40 am

PrinceAzure said he was busy with college, but will try and continue effort to post.
PrinceAzure33 wrote:What a weekend! Saturday was my first day of college, and it's just been ridiculously busy ever since. I'm still waiting for my laptop to arrive so whoever's involved in the threads that I'm involved in, bear with me, at least until it arrive. I'll try my best to post on any public computer I come across during my free time.
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Lord Caspen
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Ah yes

Post by Lord Caspen » Sat Aug 28, 2010 2:07 pm

[OOC: Ah, yes. Azure has been in touch. He's asked me to post for him in the meantime, so let us proceed, and I will answer for Caroline, June, and Lionel.]
It's discouraging to think how many people are shocked by honesty and how few by deceit. -- Blithe Spirit, Noel Coward.

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Lord Caspen
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Arrangements

Post by Lord Caspen » Sat Aug 28, 2010 2:21 pm

Seating on the first night:

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Last edited by Lord Caspen on Sat Aug 28, 2010 7:38 pm, edited 3 times in total.
It's discouraging to think how many people are shocked by honesty and how few by deceit. -- Blithe Spirit, Noel Coward.

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Post by PeachFreak » Sat Aug 28, 2010 7:12 pm

"Like a cloud," Nan smiled a polite, if strained, smile at her uncle, while adjusting herself in her seat and straightening her dress.

"Nan, did you see where your cousin Vaughn went?" Cheryl asked, looking around. An empty seat was open by Turnbull. "He came in with us, didn't he?"

"Is Alzheimer's setting in already?He practically dragged us in, remember?" Nan rolled her eyes, reaching down and rifling with her skirt as if it had a pocket. She was looking for cigarettes.

At that moment, the oblivious Mr. Rivera poked his in from the smoking room-cigar hanging from his mouth.

"Hey, did everyone see the swords in here? Wicked stuff....Oh." Everyone was silently staring at him-and he eventually noticed that his entrance had been awkward. "I missed something, didn't I?"

"Come sit down, Vaughn. Carlos was about to sing for us," Cheryl demanded. Vaughn smiled sheepishly and hurried to the empty spot on the adjacent sofa-after disappearing and reappearing without his cigar.

"Swords?" Nan whispered, leaning over her mother with perked ears.

"Seven of them. Civil war stuff, I think....You don't strike me as the history buff type..." Vaughn raised an eyebrow at her.

"No...Just a violence buff type," Nan smirked, but Cheryl promptly pulled her back into a sitting position.

(Cue others)
"Like my daddy always says, give me a good neuromuscular poison any day."

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Post by Adam106 » Sun Aug 29, 2010 11:37 am

Patricia eyed the stick insect that was Mr. Bello with a condescending manner. "You're our entertainer?" She tutted through her white teeth, shuffling in her seat, adjusting her boa. "Very well." And like a queen ordering a jester, she clapped. "Entertain us."

[Cue Carlos or others]

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Lord Caspen
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DAY ONE ... Continued

Post by Lord Caspen » Sun Aug 29, 2010 1:02 pm

Adam106 wrote:Patricia eyed the stick insect that was Mr. Bello with a condescending manner. "You're our entertainer?" She tutted through her white teeth, shuffling in her seat, adjusting her boa. "Very well." And like a queen ordering a jester, she clapped. "Entertain us."
"Shut your hole, Patty," Stanford said softly, "or you can just guess how many of your society friends will continue taking your calls when we leave here. Now, please be nice to our guest."

[Cue Carlos or others]]

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Post by Adam106 » Sun Aug 29, 2010 1:11 pm

Patricia gasped, putting her hand on her heart, dramatically. Claudio rubbed her shoulders sensually to calm her down but she threw him off with a huff. She sulked back into her seat, arms folded, lips pursed, forehead frowning. Spoilt child.

[Cue others]

Colonel Northover was tapping his leather-shoed foot on the ground in impatience. What's the entertainer fellow going to do, anyway? he thought. I do hope they shan't be any singing. He ruffled in his pockets. Blast! He'd forgotten his small set of ear plugs. I knew I should've brought them!

[Cue others]

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Post by CluedoKid » Sun Aug 29, 2010 7:50 pm

" 'scuse me' Mark whispered low to Vienna, "This is my cue."

He got up and lit a cigarette and slumped himself at a grand piano.

Stanford had a real nerve to ask for my entertainment, but hey, at least Vienna's watching.


Amongst the excited chatters and whispers, Carlos strode over to his place in front of the hearth. Stanford passed the mic over to Turnbull who in turn passed it to Carlos.

"Hola everybody," Carlos announced, "It is so exciting to be amongst such beautiful people. Of course, where I come from, everybody is beautiful. See down in Florida is where the party never stops. We have God to thank for the such nice weather we get. Up here in the American mountains, it gets so cold. I think people can become miserable in the cold because they must wear so many jackets. Not in Florida. Down there, it is as they say, life is a beach. Which is why the song I shall sing, is called exactly that.

Life...is a beach, amigos!

Easy one, easy dos
Feelin' the sand between our toes
Evening glows, morning rise
On the beach, there's much surprise
Jesus is the one I want
To praise with on the waterfront
He has died, for all us each
For God has made my life a beach.


[Insert Mark's instrumental]

(Cue guests while Carlos performs)
Last edited by CluedoKid on Sat Mar 19, 2011 4:01 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Post by Adam106 » Sun Aug 29, 2010 8:00 pm

Claudio nodded along, quite enjoying the song.

[Cue Carlos or others]

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Post by PeachFreak » Sun Aug 29, 2010 10:36 pm

Cheryl, grinning and bopping, clapped her hands to the beat in pure enjoyment. Nan looked around, wide-eyed.

Are they serious? It's like...an acid trip or something.

Vaughn meanwhile, sort of just sat there, not really listening.

(Cue others)
"Like my daddy always says, give me a good neuromuscular poison any day."

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Lord Caspen
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DAY ONE ... Continued

Post by Lord Caspen » Mon Aug 30, 2010 1:20 am

Leverage and Bethany exchanged a meaningful look.

"Your dad is flipping crazy," Bethany said. Her voice was flat, and could be heard.

And really, what were they doing here? Stuck on a mountaintop in the middle of Lev's campaign, kids going off to a new school. Her practice. Oh, Jesus, her practice. She bit her lip and shifted in her seat. They were still in the middle of a discussion about her practice. Postponed on the count of being friendly with the other guests. And alcohol. Always postponed.

She glanced down at the gown. This ridiculously expensive gown, and all this glittering company. And Mark Triplett. Shifty, brutal Mark Triplett. I have a life, dammit! she wanted to shout. I matter more than all your stupid little games! I'm a healer! I help people! She sighed, laid an elbow on the back of the sofa and propped her head up. She looked at Carlos carefully, then leaned across Turnbull to say to Vaughn, "Who does Satan think he's kidding with this kid?"

Leverage winced at this nickname for his father, but he said nothing. Instead, he dove his hand into his jacket pocket. There. Right there. But not now. Not just this second. I can wait. I can. Ridiculous. It was just another weird moment, with his overbearing father and his ungrateful wife, and now some guy singing. Nothing very new. Nothing critical. Why would this be a trigger? He scarcely knew, but found gradually that his attention was fixing on his father.

Stanford, for his part, was not hearing anything but the Latin man's voice, seeing nothing but his eyes and the sway of his lithe dark body, his own face split in a broad grin.

Vienna stared daggers at Carlos. At one point, his gaze fell to her, and she mouthed the words, "Kill. You."

[cue the Great Parlor]
Last edited by Lord Caspen on Mon Aug 30, 2010 4:42 am, edited 3 times in total.
It's discouraging to think how many people are shocked by honesty and how few by deceit. -- Blithe Spirit, Noel Coward.

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Lord Caspen
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DAY ONE ... Continued

Post by Lord Caspen » Mon Aug 30, 2010 2:04 am

At last!

Just when he'd heard that ridiculous song bursting from behind the closed door of the Great Parlor, Laurence saw Caroline Sheridan barreling towards him from across the lawn. She stormed up the steps and he raced to meet her at the door.

"Missus Sheridan!" he said.

"Miz Sheridan, if you please, Laurence. The phones in the teahouse have gone and my cell died." Caroline took in the boy's dishevel. "What in heaven is the matter with you?"

"It's the weather!" Laurence blurted. "The security office has been trying to reach you for forty minutes!"

"Okay, okay." Caroline glanced around hurriedly, then pulled him off the main drag of the lobby. Around a corner was an abrupt hallway opening on a line of dark old phonebooths. She pushed him up against the wall and asked him to slow down and give it all to her carefully.

"Warm front," the boy said, "or -- or no -- cold front -- or ... "

"Stop it!" Caroline cried. "I have too many things ... Just ..." She caught her breath. "You silly boy, now you've got me doing it. Everything is all right, we are in control, and I will handle it. Now ... one word ... at ... a time."

"SNOW!" Laurence cried. "I'm ... I'm sorry, Missus -- Miz Caroline, er, Miz Sheridan, but ... it's snow! There's a blizzard, a blizzard that's supposed to hit us tomorrow. They ... they knew there was moisture, then a few hours ago they knew it was going to be snow, and sometime since it's just grown and it's grown and it's huge! And it's a blizzard, and they think ... they think that maybe New Paltz will be completely socked in!"

Caroline had to catch her breath. Blizzard?! Those damn, those goddamn state park people would insist they evacuate. There'd be ten kinds of pandemonium. Caroline looked at the boy and wanted to choke the life out of him on the spot.

"They'll close us," she hissed.

"Yes, ma'am, that's what Bill Wingot in security said."

"You haven't told anyone else? You can keep a secret, I trust?"

Laurence gulped. "Y-yes, Miz Sheridan. I really need this job, Miz Sheridan. You're -- you're not going to--?"

"Oh, look, never mind. Just stop running or I will fire you." She composed herself, and then gave a deep sigh that seemed to drain her whole body. "Lord knows it's not the first blizzard I've ever seen. I only wish ... Look, just go back about your duties. I assume you do have an actual job around here, aside from working me up into an apoplectic fit?"

"Y-yes, Miz Sheridan."

"Fine. Get back to it. You're good at your job, Laurence, I've noticed, just stop running, please."

"Yes, ma'am!"

He drew up a smart salute and nearly broke into a run back to the lobby, then stopped -- drew a breath, and forced himself to walk (albeit quickly).

Caroline Sheridan sighed again, and rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand. On top of everything else. High Tea had been entirely ruined that afternoon. There was supposed to be a wedding tomorrow -- a charming young Oregon couple -- only they wanted ducks loosed after the vows. They always want birds, she thought. The young ones do. They can't think beyond a glorious flight and maybe a few random feathers fluttering here and there. The groundskeepers had been moving the ducks down the teahouse path, they apparently tripped, the crate smashed, and ducks flew straight across the teahouse patio, and inside the teahouse.

Caroline strode back to her office at the end of the lobby, fuming. You would never suspect, never believe that three ducks could make so much of a mess in twenty minutes, but between the screaming guests and the panicking staff, armed with broomsticks and not nearly enough common sense...

She wanted to breeze past her secretary, slam the door to her office, physically cut all her phone lines with her letter opener, and barricade herself inside. There was a heavy old sofa against the north wall, she could probably manage it. She stopped in the doorway to the secretary's office and had to laugh at the image of herself, grappling with gorilla-sized furniture, grunting and sweating and face twisted in animal snarls.

She took a breath. Oh, Caroline.

Instead, she brazened it out. Took messages -- fifteen total -- from the girl, thanked her, told her to put her through right away to the Ranger station in New Paltz, took long easy strides into her office, and closed the door quietly. A tall, healthy glass of ice and Pellegrino, her hand brushing the Stoli bottled in the fridge, and then glass in hand she eased in behind her desk to wrap up the day's business.

It would be hours, of course, but thankfully Tea had been seen to. Fruit baskets and dry cleaning and extra days for the guests affected, all seen to personally by her best concierge staff -- and there were still enough pieces left, though only just, in the china collection. They would have to go back to using the Spring season tablecloths, but there was nothing for that. The ducks were lost, of course, but -- and she felt like giggling -- there wasn't going to be a wedding tomorrow, anyway. But there were still the messages, tonight's closing of the restaurants and the lounge and the lakehouse, and then a quick pass over the accounts.

This is my place, she thought. I belong here. Excelsior.

A red light blinked on her phone, and the com buzzed. "Rangers for you, Miz Sheridan."

"Thank you, Natalie," she replied into the machine. She glared at the red light.

And the Rangers, of course. The snow and those bloody Rangers.


[cue Excelsior]
Last edited by Lord Caspen on Mon Aug 30, 2010 4:33 am, edited 3 times in total.
It's discouraging to think how many people are shocked by honesty and how few by deceit. -- Blithe Spirit, Noel Coward.

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Post by PeachFreak » Mon Aug 30, 2010 2:35 am

Nan looked over at Leverage and Bethany. They were always whispering. Scratch that. She was always whispering. But that's exactly what the wives of politicians do. Nan frowned, unsure why exactly it all suddenly bugged her.

Vaughn chuckled. Loudly.

"Satan. Maybe a tad of an overstatement, no? Ho ho!"

(Cue Bethany and others)
"Like my daddy always says, give me a good neuromuscular poison any day."

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Lord Caspen
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DAY ONE ... Continued

Post by Lord Caspen » Mon Aug 30, 2010 2:36 am

As Carlos Bello belted out his pretty tune -- though not entirely prettily -- June Baxter was trying to catch Stan's eye. What had happened to him? Why was he suddenly retiring? When it had been just the two of him ... He'd been so irredeemably wicked, virile and full of wrath for his unsuspecting enemies. His humor was violent, brutal, and infectious. He was more than ten years her senior, but he'd put her through her paces, in tennis, in partying, and in bed.

She looked at him now, and something had changed. He was still shouting, brazen, and cruel ... But he was bilious more than he was wrathful, as though over-gorged and disoriented. The over-worked boasting of the drunk. He was pale, pasty almost. And he'd lost weight. Nobody else seemed to have noticed it, he still commanded a presence like no one else she knew. Yet he was trying so hard, his age was actually showing through.

It was too much. She couldn't worry about him. She had ... well, she had someone else, now, and anyway Stanford was just no good. For her or for anyone. Certainly not for that sad little dead wife of his ...

She looked at the boy, now. Passable voice, but really, what was Stanford up to?


==================

Lionel Jove was bored out of his gourd.

He smiled at that thought. It was a trite phrase, of course, but he liked the rhythm, the rhyme. Rum-rum-tee-tee-Tum. Such a cynical thought, and such a whimsical idiom.

He glanced around the room, wondering when Stan would finally get on with it. Pretty room, he supposed. All the ... whatsits, and the woodwork. The fixtures. Scones and things. Really pretty rugs. Persian, he supposed. And the people. Stan ... his sister and nieces ... Leverage.

Lionel snorted. Slimy creep. Stan's son, through and through. Just too slick for his own good. That hail-and-well-met attitude. Lionel had seen plenty of that in business, and it usually came just before the fellow slit your throat. Slap on the back, and can-I-get-you-a-drink, and then two days later he's stolen your best client, or your best junior editor.

Bethany, now. H'm. Now there was a character. Really, a sterling character, a strong woman. Independent. How could she stand to chain herself up to ... Well, he was handsome, Lionel supposed, and rich. That was usually enough to turn almost any woman.

Of course, she wasn't entirely spotless, herself, was she? She had her own secrets ... How long can she keep it hidden from them all? he mused.

A crack -- not truly significant but a crack nonetheless -- in the singer's voice brought Lionel back to the present. He sighed and glanced at his watch.

Bored out of my gourd ... bored ... out of my gourd ... Rum ... rum-tee-tee-tum ...
Last edited by Lord Caspen on Mon Aug 30, 2010 4:43 am, edited 2 times in total.
It's discouraging to think how many people are shocked by honesty and how few by deceit. -- Blithe Spirit, Noel Coward.

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Lord Caspen
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DAY ONE ... Continued

Post by Lord Caspen » Mon Aug 30, 2010 4:18 am

PeachFreak wrote: Vaughn chuckled. Loudly.

"Satan. Maybe a tad of an overstatement, no? Ho ho!"
Actually, Beth was sort of proud of the nickname. Not original on the surface, okay, but after all Stanford liked being called the Devil of Wall Street, and people called him Stan all the time ... it really only made sense to slide an extra 'a' in there, like a grade. An "A" for all that effort at being an "asshole." Make that an "A+".

She whispered, "I think it suits him, don't you?"

Across the way, Leverage scowled at Vaughn. "Sh!" he said, and then more softly, "Be polite, cousin."

Bethany looked to her husband, and then to Vaughn, and dismissed Lev with a wave. "Don't worry about him," she whispered. "He's just cranky because he's missing the kids so much."


[cue Vaughn and the Great Parlor]
It's discouraging to think how many people are shocked by honesty and how few by deceit. -- Blithe Spirit, Noel Coward.

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Post by PeachFreak » Mon Aug 30, 2010 2:50 pm

"Smile, cousin. Remember, crankiness doesn't win elections, Lev," Vaughn decided. Loudly. "Daddy syndrome, hm? I'm so glad I don't have to deal with it. Yet....Anyway, what were you saying? Satan? He's red enough sometimes..."

(Cue Bethany and others.)
"Like my daddy always says, give me a good neuromuscular poison any day."

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Post by Adam106 » Mon Aug 30, 2010 6:48 pm

Claudio and Patricia had been whispering amongst themselves. She was fondling with his shirt buttons, running her other hand across his chest. "I'm sorry about my crankiness earlier," she whooed, "I just haven't been feeling at all happy."

"And why's that?" he asked, stroking her hair.

"Well, to be honest, I really do think it's this place. I was outside earlier and the lake...and the mountains...the endless snow. It all seems so creepy, pessimistic, no real feeling of hope. Gives me the willy-nillies, that's for sure."

"I had no idea you felt this way," he said, "and here I've been all day in the games room. Tomorrow, let's spend the whole day together. Would you like that?"

"Oh, Claudio, I'd love that," and she kissed his cheek, leaving him with a ruby red mark.

The two continued to watch Carlos, Patricia resting her head on her beau's shoulder.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Colonel Northover had been trying make sense of this bizarre fellow's rambling. "Life's a beech?" What's this bloody fellow on about, anyway?!

He scratched his balding head, trying to ignore the slightly sanctimonious overtones of this oddball melody. It wasn't anything to do with the religious themes, no, not at all. Infact, the Colonel had always been quite the Christian. It was just the unfortunate event that he had a massive headache and was in no mood for such noisiness. He caught hold of the cushion resting against his ever-aching back, unzipped it quietly, ripped off a bit of the wool and innocently scratched his ears, leaving a small piece of cotton inside each one.

Aaah...

[Cue parlour guests]

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Lord Caspen
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OOC

Post by Lord Caspen » Mon Aug 30, 2010 11:51 pm

[OOC: There is no snow on the ground, yet. It's impending and will start falling no later than tomorrow morning (in-game), but not yet.]
It's discouraging to think how many people are shocked by honesty and how few by deceit. -- Blithe Spirit, Noel Coward.

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Lord Caspen
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DAY ONE ... Continued

Post by Lord Caspen » Tue Aug 31, 2010 12:21 am

"Oh, for Chrissake!" Stanford snarled. He stood up and gestured to cut the music.

"I am very sorry, Carlos," he said. "I cannot tell you how ashamed I am ... of my entire family. Hah. And I should in no way be surprised, except at my own stupidity, to imagine they might have done any differently." Some of the anger dropped from his voice as he added, "Please, Carlos. Sit down."

Then he gave each of his guests hard looks.

"Some family."

Stanford Pryce cleared his throat.

"I had hoped to lead into this more gracefully, but I suppose there's no need for that now. I know how anxious you are, Vee, to catch that bus."

He considered the room carefully for a moment, then nodded to himself.

"You're all pretty rotten, you know. I'm the Devil of Wall Street, but you people have brought devilry into my home, into my family. You actually believed that I was not even cognizant of the date of Helen's death, or that I didn't care. I've seen your looks, I've even heard some of your snide remarks. That was your accusation, your dirty minds. Not mine. Well, now, it's my turn.

"I have long suspected that Helen did not in fact kill herself -- or if she did, somebody deliberately sent her to it. Two years ago, I hired a firm of private detectives, and now I have confirmation. Helen Nora Wallis Pryce, my late wife and mother of my children, was murdered."


[cue the Parlor]
It's discouraging to think how many people are shocked by honesty and how few by deceit. -- Blithe Spirit, Noel Coward.

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