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Post by Toz76 on Apr 29, 2024 1:31:58 GMT -5
"Poison? Are you sure?" Farragut asked.
"We'd need an autopsy to be certain, but he was in good health this evening, and his complexion matches other poison victims I've seen. I am unsure what form the poison took, but this was not a natural death."
"My god... he ate the same things we all did... are we going to die too?" Farragut asked.
Gunnarson thought for a brief moment. "I was with him the whole time we were cooking the soup and chicken. Whatever poisoned him, it wasn't in our dinner. I suppose the cake could have been poisoned, though."
"It doesn't make sense. No one but you and him had access to the kitchen tonight, right?" Wolff said.
"As far as I'm aware," Gunnarson said.
"Or maybe you know so much about poison because you did it!" Farragut said. "Got comfortable in that kitchen and decided to take it for yourself?"
"How dare you!" Wolff said. "You're talking to famous Private Investigator Adolf Gunnarson! The man who took down the Blade Syndicate! He wouldn't poison anyone!"
Farragut stuttered. "You're right, of course. I knew that. My apologies, Mister Gunnarson. I just... first Nigel, now this... I don't know how our livelihood can survive this tragedy."
The sounds of ambulance sirens began to fill the air.
"Do you think... could Nigel have done this? Was this poison meant for me?" Farragut asked.
"I can't rule it out, but a man as drunk as that seems unlikely to commit such a premeditated crime as murder via poison."
Gunnarson scanned the kitchen, looking for things out of the ordinary. Pots and pans lay scattered around the dead man, and the dishes from the dinner lay piled in the sink. There was no way to tell whose dish was whose.
Gunnarson did notice one thing- a small table in the back corner of the kitchen, where a slice of cake and a bottle of wine lay, untouched.
"Frederick's slice... at least now we know the cake wasn't poisoned," Gunnarson said.
As the medics rushed in and loaded the body onto a stretcher, Gunnarson took one last look at Frederick's body.
"Farvรคl, my friend," he whispered softly.
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Post by Biblically Accurate Angel on Apr 29, 2024 1:48:56 GMT -5
"Well," he said to Farragut, "the next order of business would be to alert the police."
"Please," said Farragut, "I haven't the heart to talk to anyone else right now. I hate to put you out like this but could you make the phone call?"
"Of course," said Gunnarson. But before he could make the call, two new voices started echoing through the hall.
"...built by Nelson Consley," said the first.
"Magnificent building indeed," said the second. "Would make for a lovely summer home."
Two men entered the kitchen. "And this is where the chef died, yes?" asked one of the men.
"I'm sorry," said Gunnarson, "but who are you?"
The man chuckled but his compatriot held out his hand with a smile. "My name is Tom Douglass, and this here is my partner Evan Radley. We're from the local police precinct. We tagged along with the medics when we heard about Mr. Frederick."
"Died right here, did he?" Evan said rhetorically. "Terrible. More villainy under the Farragut roof."
Gunnarson sized up both men. Radley looked to be in his mid thirties and had short, neatly trimmed dirty blonde hair. His appearance was meticulous in an almost overly perfect manner. Tom Douglass meanwhile was less zealous about his looks. He appeared to be in his late twenties and had ruffled brown hair.
"Why, you must be the famous detective Adolf Gunnarson!" exclaimed Tom. "We've heard so much about your escapades back at the office. I don't know why my mom didn't tell me you were staying here!"
Gunnarson put two and two together. This must be Ms. Douglass's son, the Tom she had mentioned at dinner.
"Pleased to meet you," said Gunnarson, "but I'm afraid I have no heart right now for pleasantries."
"Quite right," said Radley. "Let us get down to business. Tell me what happened here tonight."
Oliver Wolf chuckled. "How far back should we start?"
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Post by Toz76 on Apr 29, 2024 2:02:32 GMT -5
Gunnarson took the lead and filled the officers in on the incident last night, the shouting match earlier, the dispute over dinner, and the discovery just now.
"We'll need to do a sweep of the inn for evidence, of course. And get toxicology involved," Tom said.
"Yes, I believe the three of you should clear out for now," Evan added. "I know it will be difficult to sleep after what you've seen, but the best thing you can do is get some sleep and clear your heads. We'll have this solved soon enough."
Farragut stayed a bit longer to ask a couple questions, while Gunnarson and Wolf left.
"I admit, I was not expecting that," Wolf said. "I don't know of anyone who would have had a motive to kill Frederick."
"You were remarkably calm in there," Gunnarson noted.
"What, did you think I would faint at the sight of a dead body? I was a nurse during the war, Adolf. I watched men bleed out and die from gunshots and shrapnel wounds. I once saw a boy no older than 19 who had half his face blown off by a German land mine. Whatever squeamishness I had left me long ago."
Gunnarson winced. "You're very intent on using my Christian name, Ms. Wolf. I tend to go by my surname around strangers for a reason."
"We're not strangers anymore, Adolf Gunnarson. We just witnessed a murder together, and now we're the only ones in any position to solve it. Those local constables are going to arrest Nigel, naturally, but I believe they've got the wrong man, and once you hear what I have to say, I suspect you'll agree."
Gunnarson nodded his head. "Very well then, Oliver. Let us walk and talk. Tell me what you think about tonight."
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Post by Biblically Accurate Angel on Apr 29, 2024 2:20:41 GMT -5
"Well, first I must tell you about what I heard while I was out today. You see, I ended up having a long talk with the reverend at that wonky old chapel I was talking about during dinner. Upon mentioning where I was staying he gave a sigh and started talking about how much he missed a woman by the name of Rachel."
"Ah, Rachel Codona I presume?" Gunnarson asked.
"Yes," replied Wolf. "I suppose you've heard of her already?"
"Ms. Bailey and Ms. Douglass told me about her and Nelson Consley's unfortunate deaths in the lake."
"Well then," continued Wolf, "I assume you know that some people believe that Rachel, because she was a Traveler, is haunting the hotel and killed Mr. Consley."
"Indeed," nodded Gunnarson.
"Now, the reverend told me that she was one of the nicest members of his Sunday morning services and often helped out in the chapel. But then he mentioned something that really set my attention on high-alert."
"What was that?" asked Gunnarson as his curiosity began to peak.
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Post by Toz76 on Apr 29, 2024 2:39:37 GMT -5
"The day before her death, Rachel was acting very out of sorts. She became extremely emotional during prayer, and after services she asked him a bunch of questions about heaven."
"As if she knew she was going to die."
"Exactly. To the reverend, this was just proof of her piety, but to me, that means she saw something she shouldn't have. And there's more, of course. Do you know that Rachel had three children?"
"I knew she was a mother, but no more than that."
"One child is still living among the Travellers and passes through town sometimes. Another died during the Blitz. But the daughter, Ambrosia, she still lives in town. And in fact, she's quite close to a young man her own age... Nigel Consley."
"Is that so?" Gunnarson said.
"It seems most people don't know that Ambrosia is Rachel's daughter. She's dyed her hair blonde, goes by a different surname, and tries to distance herself from her mother and her ancestry. But yesterday morning, after the altercation, I happened to see Nigel in town, talking to Ambrosia, and I overheard some interesting things. Ambrosia was chastising Nigel for drinking, and said-"
Suddenly, Gunnarson and Wolf stopped in their tracks. On the shore far ahead of them, shrouded in mist, a woman was walking. She was dark-haired, wearing a white dress, covered in jewelry. Suddenly, she disappeared, as if swallowed up by the mist.
"Was that- you don't think-"
"I don't think," Gunnarson said. "There's no such thing as ghosts."
"Obviously," Wolf said, "that was someone dressed as Rachel Codona. And if we hurry, maybe we can find some clue as to who or why!"
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Post by Biblically Accurate Angel on Apr 29, 2024 10:11:00 GMT -5
The pair of sleuths raced through the fog to the edge of the lake where they had seen the figure. When they got there, they saw no trace of the figure, with the exception of a pair of footprints.
"Well that puts paid to it being a ghost," said Wolf.
"Yes," replied Gunnarson. "They are rather slender footprints, likely meaning the figure we saw was a woman. The shoes themselves seem to be flat-bottomed without treads." He turned to Wolf. "Do you think that figure could have been Ambrosia?"
"Well it's hard to say," she pondered. "Like I said, Ambrosia's hair has been dyed blonde, and that figure had pronounceably dark hair."
"Yes, even through the mist you could not mistake that," agreed Gunnarson.
"Of course it's always possible she was wearing a wig. The real question is, where did she go?"
Gunnarson nodded. "I wish I could say. I'm sure a local who knows the inns and outs of this part of the world could know how to exit the scene like that, but it is still a little odd all the same."
"Adolf, look at this." Wolf was pointing at an object sparkling on the ground below.
"A single pearl," said Gunnarson thoughtfully.
"Could have fallen off from the jewelry," Wolf said, and she bent down to pick it up.
"Stop!" said Gunnarson immediately. "Do not touch that yet. Give me one second." He reached into his coat pocket and felt around for a moment, then pulled from it a small bag. "Please, let me take it and store it in this bag so that we might preserve as best we can any fingerprints it might have on it."
"Smart," said Wolf. "Who knows what kinds of secrets that pearl may hold."
After retrieving the pearl the pair looked around for any more clues, but found nothing.
"All right, then," said Gunnarson, "please continue with your story from before."
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