Fic: Suspect, Weapon, Room (14/15)
Title: Suspect, Weapon, Room
Author:a_glass_parade
Beta:idoltina
Artist:gwladus
Word Count: 43,000+
Rating: R - people die, it's a murder mystery!
Characters/Pairings: Blaine Anderson, Brittany Pierce, Finn Hudson, Quinn Fabray, Noah Puckerman, Rachel Berry, Kurt Hummel, Santana Lopez, with cameo appearances galore!
Warnings: People die. Repeat: people DIE. People you like die. This is an AU based off of the murder mystery movie 'Clue'. So...people die. Just...letting you know. Also warning for slapstick humor and terrible jokes.
Summary: Mysterious invitations have been sent to certain notorious citizens of the Chicago area, asking them to gather at creepy Dalton Manor for a dinner party with an unknown host. Blaine Anderson, masquerading as humble butler Wadsworth, must exert all his considerable efforts and charms to keep everything under control and solve a significant problem when guests, servants and unexpected visitors start to turn up dead by various means! A modern riff on the 1985 cult classic film 'Clue' finds our beloved McKinley misfits reluctantly banding together to try and escape dinner with their lives.
Chapter Fourteen - That Could Have Happened, But How About This?
“Turn the damn lights back on, Mighty Mouse,” Ms. Scarlet shrieked in fury, making Finn cover his ears. But the ear-piercing rage did have its intended effect as Wadsworth flipped all the breakers back on and came back out.
“Sorry,” he apologized, looking sheepish as he emerged from the cellar. “Didn't mean to scare you.”
“You're a little late for that,” Finn snapped, turning to Ms. Peacock and grinding his teeth. “Man, I hate it when he does that.”
She didn't answer him, only stood there squeaking and looking somehow - and he wouldn't have thought it possible - crazier than usual. He wondered if he should pat her shoulder again.
But before he could come to a decision, Wadsworth was off and running again, all but bouncing off of the furniture as he continued his explanation. “There were three more murders after that - Officer Figgins, Yvette, and the singing telegram girl,” he recapped, counting them off on his fingers. “As soon as all the lights were out, the murderer ran across the hall into the study and grabbed the rope and pipe. They had to work fast, of course, since we were all going to come find out what was going on.”
“Get on with it,” Ms. Scarlet moaned, flapping her hand in annoyance.
Wadsworth didn't bother acknowledging her. “They went to the billiard room first and got Yvette. Strangulation takes longer than just hitting someone over the head, so they wanted to get that out of the way. From there, it was a short trip to the study and an even quicker job getting rid of Figgins.”
“And April?” asked Professor Plum, still looking pretty down over the singing telegram girl, even if Finn couldn't really figure out why. She must have been pretty good in the sack or something because otherwise no way would he be upset if someone who helped get him blackmailed was dead. Except for Yvette. She'd been awfully nice, and she didn't mean to get him sick, if anything she should be alive and Ms. Scarlet ought to be dead -
Wow, this was getting depressing. Okay, maybe he could see where the Professor was coming from.
“The doorbell rang and Yvette had left the gun right there on the table.” Wadsworth lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “Easy work to just, you know, pick it up and kill the woman. Obviously the killer would have recognized her from her picture in the blackmail envelope. Even if they didn't know her personally, she was still clearly part of the scheme, so they got rid of her.”
“You almost seem like you admire this killer,” Mrs. White sniped, sniffing and sticking her nose in the air.
“Well,” Wadsworth admitted, going all sheepish again, “I do like things that are tidy, and this was handled rather neatly.”
“But you still know who the killer is, right?” Finn asked, feeling anxious. He was so ready to put this behind him.
“I do,” confirmed the butler, nodding.
Mrs. White spun around, pointing her finger, eyes wide in amazement. “Colonel Mustard was in the cellar! It was his idea for everyone to split up! It was him, wasn't it?”
“Hey, wait a second,” Finn protested, panicking as everyone turned to glare at him. “I didn't do anything.”
“That's right. He didn't.” When everyone swung back to face Wadsworth, all of them confused and surprised, he smiled. “You do remember that the whole idea behind the split up and search was that we went in pairs - don't you?”
It took a moment for the realization to hit everyone. “No way,” was Ms. Scarlet's flat denial. “No freakin' way.”
Professor Plum had one hand on his head and the other one up in the air, hanging while he tried to process it. “You cannot be serious.”
Mrs. White was standing stock still, only tiny squeaks coming out of her mouth, and Mr. Green had actually, literally, sat right down on the floor to laugh his ass off.
Only Finn didn't get it. “I don't understand,” he burst out. “I mean, thanks for not thinking it's me but then who - oh.” He looked over where Ms. Peacock had been standing, only to see her slowly backing towards the door, clutching her handbag and staring at all of them with huge, fearful eyes. “Are you kidding me? She's like, five foot nothing!”
“And yet here we are,” Wadsworth replied, spreading his hands out helplessly. “She murdered them all. She's who was missing when the cook and Mr. Boddy were killed, don't you remember? And guess who used to be her cook?”
“Mr. Boddy?” Finn asked, flinching back when they all glared at him. “Oh...that wouldn't make sense, would it.”
“Ms. Peacock made one fatal mistake at dinner,” continued the butler, beginning to pace in a wide circle around the tiny frightened woman. “She told us all at dinner that the main course was her favorite. Fried pork chitlins are quite popular down South, the home of the cook, but less popular here in Chicago, though they have inexplicably found their way into several of the more ironically-leaning hipster restaurants in town.” His nose wrinkled. “I have no idea why.”
“Chitlins?” Mr. Green had struggled up to his feet and was actually looking rather green. “That's what we ate?” He disappeared into the bathroom, retching sounds following close behind him. Finn felt pretty similar, even though he wasn't sure what chitlins were.
He was sure he didn't want to know.
“Say I did do it,” Ms. Peacock spoke up, her voice shaking. “Say that I did. Why murder all of the others?”
“Just in case Mr. Boddy had left your secret in their care,” Wadsworth explained. “By all accounts you are a rather paranoid woman.”
She drew herself up and brushed a stray hair out of her eyes. “You don't have any proof.”
“Piece of cake.” Turning to face everyone, Wadsworth waved a hand at them all. “The gun's still missing. Gentlemen, empty your pockets. Ladies, open your purses. Whoever has the gun is the murderer.”
Finn obediently turned out his pockets, as did Professor Plum and the just-returned Mr. Green. Ms. Scarlet had no purse at hand - though she did smirkingly offer to let Wadsworth inspect her cleavage - and Mrs. White's tiny little bag held only a crumpled tissue and a tube of lipstick.
When they turned to Ms. Peacock, the gun was out, in her hand and pointed at Wadsworth. “Fine. I did it. That's right, I did. It was all me.”
“Trust her to take total credit even when she's going up the river,” Ms. Scarlet muttered.
Ms. Peacock tossed her head. “Now you know. What are you going to do about it?”
“Nothing,” Wadsworth answered, pressing his lips into a grim line.
“Nothing,” she echoed, clearly not believing him.
“Nothing at all,” the butler repeated, shaking his head. “I don't approve of murder, and yet you have done everyone here a favor by ridding the world of a disgusting blackmailer with ego issues and his network of informers. So, um...nothing.”
“Fuck you, she killed my girlfriend,” Ms. Scarlet snarled, lunging forward until Professor Plum, acting on Wadsworth's signal, grabbed her around the waist and restrained her. “Let me go!”
“Don't get yourself in trouble,” Mr. Green advised her, sounding reassuring but being careful to stay well out of reach of her angrily flailing arms. “The police will be here soon anyway, let them take care of her.”
Wadsworth shook his head again. “The police aren't coming. Why would they? No one's called them.”
Mr. Green's mouth fell open. “You mean...”
“Yes. I lied. Sorry.” And he did look apologetic, Finn thought. “My suggestion is this - we all want to keep our parts in this under wraps, don't we? Why don't we just stack all the bodies in the cellar and lock it up? We all leave quietly, one at a time, and pretend tonight never happened.” He glanced around at all of them, his face bright with encouragement. “This house is old, hardly anyone comes up here. It might be years before anything's discovered and by then we can all be in different states, leading different lives.”
The sound of the hammer cocking on the gun caught everyone's attention. “Perfect,” Ms. Peacock agreed sweetly, nodding her head as she backed towards the door. “Alfred Hitchcock couldn't have written a better mystery, Wadsworth. And though I am the leading lady in your feature, I do believe I would be best suited to depart first in this instance rather than last.”
“Be my guest,” Wadsworth advised her. “In fact, why don't we just sing you out as an act of gratitude?”
She considered this and nodded. “As long as you're in tune.”
“I'll start it off myself.” He gathered the group together and raised his hands. “A one...and two...for she's a jolly good fellow...”
At least it was an easy song to follow along, and everyone knew it. Finn joined in, smiling nervously as he watched Ms. Peacock back out the door. Mrs. White even added a special little high part, her clear voice skimming right over top of them all like frosting on a cake. It actually did sound pretty good. Even Ms. Peacock must have thought so. Or at least, she didn't shoot them.
Finally, finally, she opened the door and vanished. Immediately and almost in perfect unison, they all stopped. “I told you I didn't do it,” Mr. Green fired at them, crossing his arms and almost snorting.
“But she's going to get away with it.” Ms. Scarlet was almost in tears, and Mrs. White crossed the room with a sympathetic look on her face to offer her lone crumpled up tissue. “It's not fair.”
Wadsworth came up and patted her on the back as she sniffled. “No, she's not. The FBI will catch up with her.”
Finn knew he was staring, and his mom said staring wasn't polite, but still. “You said you didn't call the police.”
“I didn't. I called the FBI.” Wadsworth beamed. “In fact, they should be here -”
Abruptly, the sounds of a scream and a scuffle came from the front lawn. “-right about now,” the butler concluded.
The front doors burst open and a stream of FBI agents poured through the doors. The freaky blonde woman from earlier was in the middle of the group, and she had Ms. Peacock in hand, ignoring the smaller woman's frantic sobs and excuses. “This her?” she barked, shaking Ms. Peacock's arm. “I could fit her in my pocket.”
“I promise, she did it, Ms. Sylvester.” Turning, Wadsworth pointed at the rest of the dinner party. “The other guests will be happy to give evidence against her.”
Ms. Sylvester leaned down and took a closer look at Ms. Peacock, pressing her thin lips tight together. “Well,” she finally said, inhaling sharply through her nose. “I guess if the package is small enough, you can really concentrate the crazy. All right. Boys!” She raised her head and barked out the command, scaring ten years off of everyone in the room. “Take her away! And you.” She punched Wadsworth in the arm. “Good work. I appreciate your help. Bring all these losers down to the regional office in an hour.” With a sharp nod and sneer, she spun and stalked out the door. The house was empty in less than a minute.
Finn felt like he'd been smacked over the head. “Wow.”
“Wow, for sure.” Clapping his hands, Wadsworth caught their attention. “Before we go downtown, would anyone care for some fruit...or dessert?”
Chapter Fifteen - But Here's What Really Happened!
Author:a_glass_parade
Beta:idoltina
Artist:gwladus
Word Count: 43,000+
Rating: R - people die, it's a murder mystery!
Characters/Pairings: Blaine Anderson, Brittany Pierce, Finn Hudson, Quinn Fabray, Noah Puckerman, Rachel Berry, Kurt Hummel, Santana Lopez, with cameo appearances galore!
Warnings: People die. Repeat: people DIE. People you like die. This is an AU based off of the murder mystery movie 'Clue'. So...people die. Just...letting you know. Also warning for slapstick humor and terrible jokes.
Summary: Mysterious invitations have been sent to certain notorious citizens of the Chicago area, asking them to gather at creepy Dalton Manor for a dinner party with an unknown host. Blaine Anderson, masquerading as humble butler Wadsworth, must exert all his considerable efforts and charms to keep everything under control and solve a significant problem when guests, servants and unexpected visitors start to turn up dead by various means! A modern riff on the 1985 cult classic film 'Clue' finds our beloved McKinley misfits reluctantly banding together to try and escape dinner with their lives.
Chapter Fourteen - That Could Have Happened, But How About This?
“Turn the damn lights back on, Mighty Mouse,” Ms. Scarlet shrieked in fury, making Finn cover his ears. But the ear-piercing rage did have its intended effect as Wadsworth flipped all the breakers back on and came back out.
“Sorry,” he apologized, looking sheepish as he emerged from the cellar. “Didn't mean to scare you.”
“You're a little late for that,” Finn snapped, turning to Ms. Peacock and grinding his teeth. “Man, I hate it when he does that.”
She didn't answer him, only stood there squeaking and looking somehow - and he wouldn't have thought it possible - crazier than usual. He wondered if he should pat her shoulder again.
But before he could come to a decision, Wadsworth was off and running again, all but bouncing off of the furniture as he continued his explanation. “There were three more murders after that - Officer Figgins, Yvette, and the singing telegram girl,” he recapped, counting them off on his fingers. “As soon as all the lights were out, the murderer ran across the hall into the study and grabbed the rope and pipe. They had to work fast, of course, since we were all going to come find out what was going on.”
“Get on with it,” Ms. Scarlet moaned, flapping her hand in annoyance.
Wadsworth didn't bother acknowledging her. “They went to the billiard room first and got Yvette. Strangulation takes longer than just hitting someone over the head, so they wanted to get that out of the way. From there, it was a short trip to the study and an even quicker job getting rid of Figgins.”
“And April?” asked Professor Plum, still looking pretty down over the singing telegram girl, even if Finn couldn't really figure out why. She must have been pretty good in the sack or something because otherwise no way would he be upset if someone who helped get him blackmailed was dead. Except for Yvette. She'd been awfully nice, and she didn't mean to get him sick, if anything she should be alive and Ms. Scarlet ought to be dead -
Wow, this was getting depressing. Okay, maybe he could see where the Professor was coming from.
“The doorbell rang and Yvette had left the gun right there on the table.” Wadsworth lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “Easy work to just, you know, pick it up and kill the woman. Obviously the killer would have recognized her from her picture in the blackmail envelope. Even if they didn't know her personally, she was still clearly part of the scheme, so they got rid of her.”
“You almost seem like you admire this killer,” Mrs. White sniped, sniffing and sticking her nose in the air.
“Well,” Wadsworth admitted, going all sheepish again, “I do like things that are tidy, and this was handled rather neatly.”
“But you still know who the killer is, right?” Finn asked, feeling anxious. He was so ready to put this behind him.
“I do,” confirmed the butler, nodding.
Mrs. White spun around, pointing her finger, eyes wide in amazement. “Colonel Mustard was in the cellar! It was his idea for everyone to split up! It was him, wasn't it?”
“Hey, wait a second,” Finn protested, panicking as everyone turned to glare at him. “I didn't do anything.”
“That's right. He didn't.” When everyone swung back to face Wadsworth, all of them confused and surprised, he smiled. “You do remember that the whole idea behind the split up and search was that we went in pairs - don't you?”
It took a moment for the realization to hit everyone. “No way,” was Ms. Scarlet's flat denial. “No freakin' way.”
Professor Plum had one hand on his head and the other one up in the air, hanging while he tried to process it. “You cannot be serious.”
Mrs. White was standing stock still, only tiny squeaks coming out of her mouth, and Mr. Green had actually, literally, sat right down on the floor to laugh his ass off.
Only Finn didn't get it. “I don't understand,” he burst out. “I mean, thanks for not thinking it's me but then who - oh.” He looked over where Ms. Peacock had been standing, only to see her slowly backing towards the door, clutching her handbag and staring at all of them with huge, fearful eyes. “Are you kidding me? She's like, five foot nothing!”
“And yet here we are,” Wadsworth replied, spreading his hands out helplessly. “She murdered them all. She's who was missing when the cook and Mr. Boddy were killed, don't you remember? And guess who used to be her cook?”
“Mr. Boddy?” Finn asked, flinching back when they all glared at him. “Oh...that wouldn't make sense, would it.”
“Ms. Peacock made one fatal mistake at dinner,” continued the butler, beginning to pace in a wide circle around the tiny frightened woman. “She told us all at dinner that the main course was her favorite. Fried pork chitlins are quite popular down South, the home of the cook, but less popular here in Chicago, though they have inexplicably found their way into several of the more ironically-leaning hipster restaurants in town.” His nose wrinkled. “I have no idea why.”
“Chitlins?” Mr. Green had struggled up to his feet and was actually looking rather green. “That's what we ate?” He disappeared into the bathroom, retching sounds following close behind him. Finn felt pretty similar, even though he wasn't sure what chitlins were.
He was sure he didn't want to know.
“Say I did do it,” Ms. Peacock spoke up, her voice shaking. “Say that I did. Why murder all of the others?”
“Just in case Mr. Boddy had left your secret in their care,” Wadsworth explained. “By all accounts you are a rather paranoid woman.”
She drew herself up and brushed a stray hair out of her eyes. “You don't have any proof.”
“Piece of cake.” Turning to face everyone, Wadsworth waved a hand at them all. “The gun's still missing. Gentlemen, empty your pockets. Ladies, open your purses. Whoever has the gun is the murderer.”
Finn obediently turned out his pockets, as did Professor Plum and the just-returned Mr. Green. Ms. Scarlet had no purse at hand - though she did smirkingly offer to let Wadsworth inspect her cleavage - and Mrs. White's tiny little bag held only a crumpled tissue and a tube of lipstick.
When they turned to Ms. Peacock, the gun was out, in her hand and pointed at Wadsworth. “Fine. I did it. That's right, I did. It was all me.”
“Trust her to take total credit even when she's going up the river,” Ms. Scarlet muttered.
Ms. Peacock tossed her head. “Now you know. What are you going to do about it?”
“Nothing,” Wadsworth answered, pressing his lips into a grim line.
“Nothing,” she echoed, clearly not believing him.
“Nothing at all,” the butler repeated, shaking his head. “I don't approve of murder, and yet you have done everyone here a favor by ridding the world of a disgusting blackmailer with ego issues and his network of informers. So, um...nothing.”
“Fuck you, she killed my girlfriend,” Ms. Scarlet snarled, lunging forward until Professor Plum, acting on Wadsworth's signal, grabbed her around the waist and restrained her. “Let me go!”
“Don't get yourself in trouble,” Mr. Green advised her, sounding reassuring but being careful to stay well out of reach of her angrily flailing arms. “The police will be here soon anyway, let them take care of her.”
Wadsworth shook his head again. “The police aren't coming. Why would they? No one's called them.”
Mr. Green's mouth fell open. “You mean...”
“Yes. I lied. Sorry.” And he did look apologetic, Finn thought. “My suggestion is this - we all want to keep our parts in this under wraps, don't we? Why don't we just stack all the bodies in the cellar and lock it up? We all leave quietly, one at a time, and pretend tonight never happened.” He glanced around at all of them, his face bright with encouragement. “This house is old, hardly anyone comes up here. It might be years before anything's discovered and by then we can all be in different states, leading different lives.”
The sound of the hammer cocking on the gun caught everyone's attention. “Perfect,” Ms. Peacock agreed sweetly, nodding her head as she backed towards the door. “Alfred Hitchcock couldn't have written a better mystery, Wadsworth. And though I am the leading lady in your feature, I do believe I would be best suited to depart first in this instance rather than last.”
“Be my guest,” Wadsworth advised her. “In fact, why don't we just sing you out as an act of gratitude?”
She considered this and nodded. “As long as you're in tune.”
“I'll start it off myself.” He gathered the group together and raised his hands. “A one...and two...for she's a jolly good fellow...”
At least it was an easy song to follow along, and everyone knew it. Finn joined in, smiling nervously as he watched Ms. Peacock back out the door. Mrs. White even added a special little high part, her clear voice skimming right over top of them all like frosting on a cake. It actually did sound pretty good. Even Ms. Peacock must have thought so. Or at least, she didn't shoot them.
Finally, finally, she opened the door and vanished. Immediately and almost in perfect unison, they all stopped. “I told you I didn't do it,” Mr. Green fired at them, crossing his arms and almost snorting.
“But she's going to get away with it.” Ms. Scarlet was almost in tears, and Mrs. White crossed the room with a sympathetic look on her face to offer her lone crumpled up tissue. “It's not fair.”
Wadsworth came up and patted her on the back as she sniffled. “No, she's not. The FBI will catch up with her.”
Finn knew he was staring, and his mom said staring wasn't polite, but still. “You said you didn't call the police.”
“I didn't. I called the FBI.” Wadsworth beamed. “In fact, they should be here -”
Abruptly, the sounds of a scream and a scuffle came from the front lawn. “-right about now,” the butler concluded.
The front doors burst open and a stream of FBI agents poured through the doors. The freaky blonde woman from earlier was in the middle of the group, and she had Ms. Peacock in hand, ignoring the smaller woman's frantic sobs and excuses. “This her?” she barked, shaking Ms. Peacock's arm. “I could fit her in my pocket.”
“I promise, she did it, Ms. Sylvester.” Turning, Wadsworth pointed at the rest of the dinner party. “The other guests will be happy to give evidence against her.”
Ms. Sylvester leaned down and took a closer look at Ms. Peacock, pressing her thin lips tight together. “Well,” she finally said, inhaling sharply through her nose. “I guess if the package is small enough, you can really concentrate the crazy. All right. Boys!” She raised her head and barked out the command, scaring ten years off of everyone in the room. “Take her away! And you.” She punched Wadsworth in the arm. “Good work. I appreciate your help. Bring all these losers down to the regional office in an hour.” With a sharp nod and sneer, she spun and stalked out the door. The house was empty in less than a minute.
Finn felt like he'd been smacked over the head. “Wow.”
“Wow, for sure.” Clapping his hands, Wadsworth caught their attention. “Before we go downtown, would anyone care for some fruit...or dessert?”
Chapter Fifteen - But Here's What Really Happened!