|
|
|
|
 | |  |
| You're probably wondering why I called you here. The murderer of Lord Bunbury is right in this room. Is it his wastrel son, Lord Bunbury, Jr., who needed his inheritance to pay off debts? | |
 | |  |
|
 |
| | |
| Is it his upstairs maid, with whom he shared one night of love thirty years ago that resulted in issue? Is it that issue, who arrived here just last night on a boat from Inja? Is it Lady Marbury? | |
| | |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| | |
| Is it her brother, the Duke of Earl, or one of the rent boys he regularly hires? Is it Rickets, the chauffeur with the shady past? Is it Pierre LeCirque, international art forger and blackmailer? | |
| | |
|
|
| | |
| Or was it, mayhaps, someone else? I think the answer will surprise most of you just as much as it surprised me when I realized it. The murderer of Lord Bunbury is-- GREAT SCOTT! THE LIGHTS! AAHH!! | |
| | |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| | |
| It makes me sick how you highlanders think you can get away with killing good English folk. But we got you dead to rights. The detective spilled your name before he croaked, Scott. | |
| | |
|
 |
|
|
