[MaC] Speculation in the Lounge

[Mel Mason]

 "Lucy, this is the last time I holiday with you and Skeffers," Michael 
said, tossing back the brandy he had poured himself after the news. "If I 
didn't know better, I'd think you two are cursed."

Lucinda shook her head ruefully.

"Cursed?" James asked querulously to Michael.

"Gar ... Michael has met Oswald and me before," said Lucinda.  "In ... 
rather unfortunate circumstances."

Her look at him was suddenly speculative.

"And how is Sandra these days?" she asked.

(Response?)

He crossed to the dowager and looked at her hand. "Are you alright, Lady 
Gower?"

Arabella looked down at her hand, a bit puzzled, and then said, "Oh, yes. 
It's just paint, Captain. I'm afraid I brushed against that daub of mine 
while getting Pamela's bag... If you have a handkerchief you can spare..."

"I can't believe she's been killed," Marjorie said almost to herself where 
she sat next to Anton. She seemed rather pale, almost ill. "I don't suppose 
I could have something to drink?" she asked. "Oh... I'll get it myself," she 
said when she realized there was no one behind the bar. She stood up, 
wobbled slightly, then moved toward the drinks.

At this point, Hodges returned with Esme and the linens they had collected 
from downstairs.  Pamela took the linens while Esme shot a worried look at 
her husband, and then at Anton - then back to her husband.

"What's happened, Marty?"

At this point, Pamela, Lucinda and Warren left to return to the pianist's 
lounge and the body.

Marty tossed off his brandy and slammed the glass down on the bar with a 
curt nod to Marjorie to refill it.

"Nola's managed to get herself murdered, that's what."

The effect on Esme was dramatic.  A hand went to her neck - she seemed to be 
clutching at her throat.

"No!" she said shrilly.  "I didn't do it!  It wasn't me!"

And she sank to the floor in a dead faint.