[MaC] A pause in the music - Back in the lounge

[Mel Mason]

"She can't have killed herself!" said Florence Beaman.  "Not in the time she 
was alone.  But ... do you think ... do you think she ... killed herself?"

> "Don't mind him old boy."  James said to Anton, not even deigning to
> give Fitzroy a look.  James sighed, smashed a fist into his palm and
> mused aloud.  "Everyone in the building was invited to the party,
> weren't they?" he said. "Every last one, social hermit or not."
>
> "It's one of us." James deduced, unhappily.

> "No! No, it can't be!" Nicola protested. "There had
> to..." her voice trailed off. "Oh... you're right.
> Nobody could get into Mortmain Mansions and we were
> all here at the party." She looked around the room at
> the few stragglers that had been either too uneasy or
> too respectful to traipse through and gawk at Nola's
> body. "But... who?" She shivered in spite of her warm jacket.

Pamela's lips thinned. She had come to the same conclusion, but need
Mr. Drake frighten everyone with it? No point suggesting that perhaps
someone *had* broken in, given that all the flats were empty tonight;
that would not precisely reassure.

The thing to do was to remain calm and matter-of-fact. Pamela patted
Nicola's hand one more time and turned toward Lucinda. "Mrs.
Skeffington-Nottle? Your husband was asking for you; perhaps you would
come with me?"

Certainly," said Lucinda.  "Lady Pamela - Officer Worthington - do you have 
any idea how she died?  Was it an accident, suicide or ... "

(OOC - cos no-one in the lounge actually knows she was murdered, I think. 
It would be nice if someone told them!)

"Oh, and Mr. Hodges, we could do with whatever aprons -- or table-linen, 
even -- you could find for us. Anything at all; it needn't be new or even 
clean." Properly she ought to have asked Mr. Fitzroy, as the flat they were 
in was his, but hundreds of years of breeding firmly informed her that she 
simply could not speak to that common, vulgar, *nasty* little man.

"I'll see what I can find Lady Pamela."  Hodges replied.  "I'm leaving the 
brandy on the table."  Hodges left to look in the linen closet for some 
appropriate attire.  "Someone ought to ring the police as well."

This took him downstairs out of the lounge - in time to see Cyril examining 
the door of the flat opposite.  Esme Fotzroy, doubtless alarmed by all the 
comings and goes, came out of her bedroom looking more than a little 
anxious.

"Mr Hodges - what is going on?" she asked.

> Philip entered the lounge through the upstairs hallway just as Cyril was
> heading downstairs. He moved quietly to the bar, depositing his 
> half-filled
> glass on the counter, before turning to those who were still present. "I'm
> going downstairs to inform the authorities," he said. "If anyone would 
> like
> to come along, they'd be welcome."
>