Murder at Manor Sanders

You don't know much about Mr. Sanders. Millionaire, owner of a company producing sinfully expensive machine parts, no family, known for his huge parties. And, as of today, a dead man. Deering, your assistant, is already on the scene. When you arrive, she playfully salutes you. "Detective", she says "This is going to be a big one. Killed in the middle of a party. The media will go crazy about this." You groan internally. During a party? The amount of people involved will be enourmous. But Deering seems to notice your fear, because she shakes her head. "Don't worry. Sanders died on the second floor and the party was on the first floor - most of the guests are 100% guaranteed to be innocent. We already sent them home. Now all we have are the 6 people who were on the second floor at the time of the crime." "Six?" That does sound better. "Anyone witness the crime? Who called the police?" "Nobody witnessed the crime. As of now, all six of them are suspects", she explains. "One of them is called Fisher, that's the one who called us." "Kind of him, but he's still a suspect." And while 6 is better than 100, 200 or however many people were at that party, it's still too much. It'll be your job to find the guilty one... whoever it may be. Now, how should you begin? [[Question your Assistant]] [[Meet the Suspects]] [[Investigate the Crime Scene]]

"Deering. What else can you tell me about this case?" "The victim was found in his office", she starts, "strangled to death. We don't know what he was strangled with. The office was a mess... so there was likely a struggle." "I see. What about the 6 suspects?" "Five of them are partygoers who were upstairs for various reasons. One of them is a cleaner. Now, one thing I am fairly certain of is that this murder wasn't premeditated." "What makes you think that?" "The fact that there are only six possible suspects... if it had been planned, he'd have been killed downstairs. Then we'd have over a hundred potential killers to deal with. Instead we have an almost 17% chance of catching the right person just by randomly picking one. Nobody's dumb enough to do that on purpose." "...Yes, that is true. Anything else?" "Not right now, no. I'd suggest talking to the suspects first, and then taking a look at the crime scene", she says. You nod. "Alright. Lead the way." [[Meet the suspects->MeettheSuspects2]]

6 suspects in total. Time to meet them and see what you're working with. Deering leads you into the mansion. You only spare a small glance at your surroundings, but it seems to be furnished in light colors, tastefully decorated. A lovely home, though now without an owner. The suspects are gathered in what seems to be a saloon, being watched by two young policemen. They are here not only to watch the suspects, but also to ensure that they do not talk to each other too much, since that could alter their testimony. Given that, you know for a fact that the suspects will at no point be able to talk to each other about anything related to the case. A large, grey couch takes up the entire left side of the room, giving those who might sit on it a perfect view of the enourmous TV hanging on the opposite wall. Right now, however, the people sitting on that couch are not interested in the TV at all. Instead, their eyes lock onto you the second you enter the room. Those must be the suspects. You glance at them, look them over. Most of them are still in formal wear, pulled straight from the party. You do wonder what they were doing up here if the party was downstairs. That's one of the many things you'll have to question them about. [[Start Questioning->QuestionPeriwinkle1]]

Deering leads you up the stairs into a room she tells you was Mr. Sanders' bedroom. The room is enourmous, but there's very little in it. A large bed, of course, a wardrobe, a dressing table and a small couch. Some storage. But one could easily fit twice as much furniture in there without any trouble. Everything is beige, cream-colored or light brown. That, plus the large windows, makes the room extremely bright, which in turn makes it seem even more empty. There is a chalk outline on the carpet, close to a dressing table and covered in blood. Not all that much of it, though. You've definitely seen worse. "How did he die?", you ask and Deering answers: "He was stabbed in the chest. A pretty deep wound." She holds a picture out to you, showing the victim's body. Sanders is lying on his back, arms outstretched, eyes closed. His chest and stomach are coated in blood. While you are still looking at the picture, Deering hands something else over to you. It is a clear plastic bag, containing a knife. The weapon seems to be mostly decorative, with intricate carvings on the wooden hilt and a flower pattern engraved on the blade. But that pattern is covered with dried blood. "The murder weapon, or so we assume", Deering explains. "No fingerprints except for those of the victim and we do not know how old these are. It was found right next to the body. The forensic team is still analyzing the blood. We should get the results later today." "But there are prints on it. So it hasn't been wiped." She nods and you take a closer look at your surroundings. There isn't much decoration or, for that matter, much to suggest that this room gets used. A small computer is placed on the couch table, but it looks dusty and old, not like something that is used at all. An empty glass is placed on the bedside table, the only thing on it. One thing that does catch your attention is the extremely elaborate desk clock on the dressing table - it is made from wood, covered with swirls and decorative carvings, and it appears to be broken - the second hand isn't moving an inch. The wood is also fairly dark, a stark contrast to the bright shades that fill the rest of the room. ...In fact.... both the shade of the wood and the carvings heavily resemble the knife's hilt. You take a closer look at the clock. Sure enough, there is a gap at the side. You carefully slide the knife's blade into the gap and it fits perfectly. The hilt fades into the pattern - if you didn't know that there was a knife hidden here, you'd never notice. "A hidden weapon", Deering states, staring at it. "Do you think this is decorative or meant for self defense?" "Well, Sanders was a very rich man. He would have been a target for burglars", you say, pulling the knife out again. "This is well-hidden, though. I don't think anyone would find it by accident." So already, you have something to work with. Is this really the murder weapon? Who used this knife? Did Sanders use it to defend himself from his attacker? Or did the attacker use it and if so, how did they know it was there? You will have to question the suspects to figure that out. [[Meet the suspects->meet suspects]]

You decide to question the man Corbin pointed you to next. He's elderly and overweight, wearing a dark brown suit. His tie is green and so are his eyes, eyes peeking through small round glasses. Grey, fluffy hair frames his face with a thick beard. He's smiling, but it's clearly forced, a deep sadness evident behind it. His pose suggests the same, curled up and wrapping his arms around himself. He introduces himself before you can say anything: "I am Professor Tröger." You nod. "Professor, please tell me your connection to the victim." "Me and Ben were good friends. He shared my love for rare plants. There is a lovely indoor garden in this house. I know this place like the back of my hand, you know? It is always... was always a pleasure to chat about these beautiful plants with Ben. I have known him for at least 20 years. More... more." He sighs sadly. "You know Madame Corbin as well, correct?" "Yvette? Why yes, she is an old friend as well! Why, just today I had a very pleasant chat with her, the first one in quite a while actually. It was about this new plant I aquired. It is a Monstera Obliqua Peru, And quite cheap, too, with only 450 dollars. Of course, that was only after a fair bit of haggling, but you can not argue with results, right? Althoug there was some damage to one of the leaves, based on how it looks I would say that it got exposed to direct sunlight for too long - those leaves are quite frail, you see - but I am certain that it will survive if given proper care. I have already found the perfect place for it, though I had to move a few..." "Yes, I see", you interrupt, because there's no doubt that this man will keep going for hours if you let him. "So, were you upstairs to visit this indoor garden?" "Hm? Ah right, that. No, I was merely planning to fetch something from my room." Ah. He must have the second guest room, then. "But you did not succeed?" "No. As I already mentioned, I ended up talking to Yvette instead. We spend quite a while on that balcony, I believe." "The balcony. Why there and not inside?" It's not quite winter yet, but almost. Temperatures are dropping quickly. Standing outside in clothes that are not even remotely made for it... it sounds unpleasant. Tröger chuckles. "Ah. Well, Yvette does not do well without her cigarettes." Given the way she smells, that is certainly true. [[Continue Questioning->QuestionFisher1]]

You step towards a slender woman and immediately find yourself surrounded by the thick smell of cigarette smoke, She isn't even actively smoking, but the smell clings to her like a very unusual type of perfume. It clogs your throat, so you step back and observe from a distance. She wears a long, elegant dress and a thick grey feather boa around her narrow shoulders. Her black hair is tied into a high ponytail. Your eyes are drawn towards the gorgeous emerald necklace around her neck. It looks incredibly valuable. "May I have your name?", you ask. She cocks a brow and takes her time before answering. "...Madame Corbin." Her voice is scratchy, likely from smoking. "Madame Corbin. What was your relation to the victim?" Again, she waits before answering. Narrow green eyes stare you down. "Ben was my friend", she finally says. "We met in France. More than 13 years ago. I designed most of his outfits." Right. Benjamin Sanders, that's his full name, though you've never heard anyone call him Ben. "A designer, then? And what were you doing up here?" "I live in France. When I visit, I am given one of the guest rooms. The second one, normally. I was there, fetching one of my necklaces. I have two with me. Both worth more than you." She smiles at you. There isn't an ounce of kindness in it. "After I'd chosen, I was planning to head back down. Alas, once I reached the stairs, I found myself facing my dear friend Richard. We ended up talking on the balcony for a while, since we had not found an opportunity to talk before that - he only arrived today and the parties are always very chaotic, not a good place for a casual chat. He will of course confirm this." She points at one of the other suspects, a man in a brown suit. "A pleasant conversation, although I've already forgotten most of the details. Some might beg to differ, but I personally just don't care that much for plants - not even Monsters Oblique from Peru or whatever that thing was called." She leans back and goes back to staring at you. Seems like she has no intention of saying anything else. [[Continue Questioning->Question Tröger1]]

You turn towards a small blond man with large, blue eyes. He seems quite young, no older than thirty-five. He's meekly hunched over on his corner of the couch, trying to make himself as small as possible. Unfortunally for him, he sticks out like a sore thumb: The other suspects are dressed in dark shades, while he is wearing a completely white suit. He's also wearing a bowtie, while the other three suit-wearing suspects are all wearing normal ties. He'd make a handsome groom, but it's an odd outfit for a simple party. He's playing around with his fingers... fingers that are stuck in light grey gloves. Interesting... You clear your throat and he flinches. "May I have your name?", you ask and he nods quickly. "Periwinkle. Dr. Periwinkle. I'm... I'm a doctor", he mumbles, not looking at you. "Dr. Periwinkle. What is your connection to the victim?" "I was his doctor. I... I'm a concierge doctor, that means that he pays... paid... me a monthly fee and thus I was on call for him at any given time. He... he's been my patient for several years now." He coughs nervously. "Why were you up here? The main event was downstairs, was it not?" He blushes a bit. "I... I don't deal well with crowds. I only took the invitation to be polite and... so many people, I just...", he coughs again. "The second I arrived, I asked if I could go upstairs in case it got too much. And, uh, eventually it did... get too much. I was planning to go back down again soon..." Your first impression of this man is that of somebody who'd crush a bug by accident and mourn it for hours. He might as well have the words //Do No Harm// tattoed across his forehead. But few things on earth are less reliable than a first impression, at least in your line of work. "So you came here to hide. What exactly does that mean and what did you do?" "I went to the library. To... to read", he says. "Reading... that calms me down and Mr. Sanders has a nice collection of books..." He trails off. You turn to Deering. "Where was he when you arrived?" "Dr. Periwinkle was indeed in the library when we arrived. But of course that doesn't mean that he was there when the crime was committed, only that he was there shortly after it." You nod and turn back to Periwinkle. "Did you leave the library at any point?" "No. I never once left it until the police officer came in to inform me of the... the murder." He swallows. "That's not a very good alibi, is it...?" It's really, really not. [[Continue Questioning->QuestionCorbin1]]

You approach a brown-haired man with a thin mustache. He's trying to stay calm, but he's trembling slightly. His suit is dark grey with a light grey tie. A plain, simple outfit, not really made for a party. Though really, the entire man does not seem to be made for a party. He looks stiff and serious in every conceivable way. It's downright impossible to imagine him doing anything other than paperwork or virtual paperwork. His right foot is encased in a thick cast, the leg of his suit rolled up to accommodate it. A metallic crutch is lying on the couch next to him. It looks heavy, but the man is rather buff. "May I ask your name?" "Mr. Fisher", he says, which means that he's the person who found the body and alerted the police. "Mr. Fisher. Why were you up here on the second floor? I imagine that the staircase was rather difficult for somebody with a leg injury." "I am used to it. My apartment is on the second floor, so I know how to climb stairs with my crutch. As for what I was doing, I was working." You raise a brow. "Working? How exactly?" "I was Mr. Sanders accountant. I was in his office taking care of the paperwork." "During a party?" He nods. "I am not a people person. I asked Mr. Sanders to let me do work instead and he agreed." "And you were in there working the entire time?" There is a moment of hesitation. Most people wouldn't notice it at all, but you? This is precisely the thing you're meant to look out for. "I... yes. I was working. The entire time... no, wait. Before I went to the office, I had a... short conversation with Mrs. Hunter-Smith." He clears his troat awkwardly. "I don't really remember what it was about. I'm sorry. But... finding him like that..." Fisher shudders. "Right. You found the body, correct?" "Y-yes. In... in the hallway. Just... just lying there. I thought he'd just passed out, but when I got closer, I realized... realized that he was..." He can't bring himself to finish that sentence and you decide to show mercy for now. [[Continue Questioning->QuestionHunterSmith1]]

You go for the tall, serious-looking woman next. She's looking at her phone, typing swiftly, barely paying attention to you. Her suit is plum-colored with a black tie. Blonde hair, obviously dyed and coated in enoug hair spray to hold an elephant in place, frames a pointy face. A handbag, also black, is slung around her shoulders... actually, no. It's a laptop bag. Behind you, Deering speaks up: "I already asked you to put down your phone." The woman blinks, then looks up. She doesn't put down her phone. "Huh? Oh, right. I am Mrs. Hunter-Smith. Hello." "...What was your relationship with the victim, Mrs. Hunter-Smith...?" Actually... now that you've said the name out loud, it sounds familiar. You've heard it before. But where? "I'm one of... I was one of Sanders' competitors", she informs you, glancing at her phone as she talks. Right. Hunter-Smith, that's another company for expensive machine parts. The relationship between these companies... you don't know the details. "He invited his rival to one of his parties?" She shrugs. "Rivals. Allies. Keeps changing. Right now, we are... //were// getting along well." "I see. And why were you up here when the crime happened?" Another shrug. "Work. Always have work to do. Some of it I can do on the phone. Some of it requires my laptop and a bit of silence. I was doing the second kind." Right. "Is it true that you talked to Mr. Fisher at some point after coming up here?" "...Yes, I do believe I did. I do my own accounting, but I have run into some issues with the taxes this year. Obviously I cannot hire the person who does my competitor's paperwork, but I was hoping he'd be able to recommend someone to help me. We talked, then he left to do paperwork. Always working, that guy. I like him." "And where did you do your work?" She's back to staring at her phone, but raises her arm in a gesture indicating the saloon you're currently in. "Right in here. Didn't leave or anything." Alright. That is going to be... "Oh, if you want, you can check my work. You know, time stamps on mails and documents." ...Huh. You sit down and wait as she takes out her laptop and flips it open. Then, she proceeds to show you her work and your eyes almost pop out. Blueprints, calculations, salary negotiations, charts, mails, letters, presentations... and all of it done in a span of two or three hours. There is never more than two or three minutes between the times indicated by the time spans. This woman is a workaholic beyond compare... but she does have a very good alibi. [[Continue Questioning->QuestionPerks1]]

The last suspect is a pudgy brunette teenager, sitting at the very edge of the couch far away from the others. She isn't dressed as elegantly as the others; her outfit consists of a blue sweater and a pair of worn jeans, plus dark blue sneakers. She also keeps throwing glances at the other guests, especially at Corbin. Perhaps she's not a guest at all? "May I have your name?", you ask and she hesitates. "Uh... Ms. Perks, I guess? Sorry, a bit nervous. I'm, uh, I'm a cleaner. Part-time cleaner.." Another glance at Corbin. She has already answered quite a few questions just with that sentence, but it can't hurt to make sure: "And you were likely up here because of your duties, correct?" "Correct. I was cleaning the master bedroom", she confirms. "Did anybody else see you?" "No. But I did get a call from my brother after I was halfway done. I, uh, shouldn't be on my phone at work", she admits with a crooked smile, "but I guess it works in my favour? He can, uh, confirm that I wasn't doing anything. Not killing anyone, I mean." She hands you her phone and a few taps confirm that there was indeed a rather lenghty call today, overlapping the time of the murder. It is the only call today. She glances at Corbin. Again. Now you're curious. "Do you have an issue with Madame Corbin?" "Huh? Oh no, she's fine. Just, she's a chain smoker and I... well, I've got asthma. Not a good combination." Another smile. "I can't even stand next to her for long without almost dying. That's why I'm all the way over here." She pulls out a small inhaler. Behind you, Deering speaks up: "We've confirmed that she does have asthma." Right. With that, you have sucessfully questioned all of the suspects. You should look at the crime scene next. [[Investigate the Crime Scene->InvestigatetheCrimeScene1]]

Sanders' body has already been taken away, but a chalk outline and a picture provided by Deering show you where it had been. Right there in the hallway, between the door to the library and the door to the entrance area. Thick carpet covers the floor, flattened where Sanders' body pressed down on it. There is a large, white dresser standing right next to him, another one placed further down the hallway. A few pictures are placed on the wall, most of them showing plants. There is no blood anywhere, nor do you see signs of a struggle. You turn to Deering. "Cause of death?", you ask. "Blunt force trauma to the back of the head. No murder weapon was found." Blunt force trauma to the back of the head... so ambushed from behind, perhaps? "Any other injuries?" "None." Thinking back to the blueprints... "Shouldn't somebody have heard him fall?" "No. Mr. Sanders took noise control very seriously from what we've gathered, because these walls are almost completely sound proof. I suppose that's useful for somebody who likes loud parties that last all night." "Fine. Any fingerprints, footprints, lost hairs or anything?" "No, nothing. The only prints we found belong to Mr. Sanders." "Alright." It's not alright, actually. That is precious little to go on. Though... one thing you can say with reasonable certainity is that this was not a premeditated murder. You voice that thought and Deering nods. "I came to the same conclusion. Not only does the placement of the body suggest an unplanned crime, but the fact that there are only six possible suspects... if it had been planned, he'd have been killed downstairs. Then we'd have over a hundred potential killers to deal with. Instead we have an almost 17% chance of catching the right person just by randomly picking one. Nobody's dumb enough to do that on purpose." Precisely. So it was unplanned, a spontaneous decision. Though as of now, you have no idea whose decision it was. [[So that means...->Interlude1]]

Given what you know now, it might be reasonable to visit a few of the other rooms. The Master Bedroom might be of interest. Same goes for the library. The office, perhaps? Or one of the guest rooms? Corbin did claim that she entered hers at some point. Given your current position... it might be wise to start with the library. [[Go to the Library->Library1]]

The door is locked. Fortunally, Madame Corbin has the key on her, though the way she raises her brow at you when you ask her for it is less than polite.. You're not surprised to find the smell of cigarette smoke filling the room, clinging to everything inside it. You are however surprised to find that the room looks nothing like the rest of the mansion. Instead of bright wood and soft greys, this room's furniture is pitch black. There is a huge canopy bed with an elegant metal frame, a very elegant dressing table and a mannequin without a dress, waiting for someone to dress it. On one wall, you can see the largest mirror you've ever seen - it takes up almost the entire wall. Even the carpet doesn't fit what you've seen outside; not grey or white, but jade green. It seems that this is not just a guest room, but a guest room designed specifically for Madame Corbin. You check the wardrobe and find a variety of dresses and shoes. It all seems to be of a very high quality, not that you're an expert on designer clothes. Still, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that a dress with real diamonds for buttons is worth a lot. The dresser is covered in various objects: A comb, a hairbrush, a pair of pliers. Some jewelery like a ring and two bracelets, plus two empty jewelery boxes - they seem to have been made to hold one necklace each. Then a small tube of hand lotion and an even smaller bottle of hand sanitizer. And a box of cigarettes. Naturally. The smell clogs your lungs. There isn't even an ashtray in here! Deering has already left the room... you should probably follow her before you faint. [[Go to the Office->Office1]]

The office is surprisingly chaotic. Not the furniture - that is neat and straight. Two large filing cabinets, a bookcase and a desk, all made from the same greyish wood. The office chair in front of the desk looks extremely comfortable. You're a bit envious - your own chair isn't good at all. There are a laptop and a computer on the desk, both turned on and showing some type of calculations. Probably something related to accounting, considering that Mr. Fisher was working here. Or at least claims to have done so, though the state of the room lends some weight to that argument. Somebody was working here, and it's unlikely to be anyone else. Also on the desk are approximately five billion documents. They're hazardly tossed over the keyboards, a mangled heap of paper and printer ink. It looks as if Fisher just tossed the entire pile onto the desk. One of the documents catches your attention. It's the only one not covered almost exclusively in numbers. A printed letter, it seems. You pick it up and read: //Did you really think I'd just let this happen? I cannot believe you've sunk so low. Rest assured, this will not stay between the two of us. Consider this your last chance to confess.// ...Now //that// is going to be very, very interesting... [[Go to the Bedroom->Bedroom1]]

The bedroom is enourmous, but there's very little in it. A large bed, of course, a wardrobe, a dressing table and a small couch. Some storage. But one could easily fit twice as much furniture in there without any trouble. Everything is clean - Ms. Perks has done her job well. There's a faint smell of smoke in the air, not remotely as strong as in Corbin's room, but still unmistakable. One of the windows is wide open and as you lean outside, you can see the balcony. You check the wardrobe and the dressers while Deering checks the dressing table, but you find nothing of interest inside. A quick glance at the potted succulents on the couch table - they look simple, but they're probably worth a lot. Perhaps Professor Tröger could tell you more about them, but you doubt it'll be important. There appears to be nothing else of interest in this room. So, with that in mind... [[Move on->Moveon1]]

You have several options now. Quite a few things caught your attention as you went through the rooms - now it is time to ask some question. ''In moments like this you must keep in mind that, while some of these options will permit you to come back here and pick another one, not all of them do. Just going through them from the top in order to see them all is not an option. Choose carefully.'' [[Ask Ms. Perks about her asthma->AskaboutAsthma]] [[Ask Dr. Periwinkle what he was reading->AskaboutReading]] [[Ask Mr. Fisher about the letter->AskaboutLetter]] [[Ask Prof. Tröger about plants->Askaboutplants]] [[Ask Madame Corbin about her room->AskaboutRoom]] [[Ask Hunter-Smith about her work->AskaboutWork]]

Welcome to Manor Sanders! A murder has taken place here today - and you, detective, have been brought in to solve it! Click yourself through the story, collect clues, make choices and see if you can find out who the murderer is! With six potential suspects and seven potential endings, there are many ways for this to go... can you find all endings? This game has different routes, different endings and thus different stories. If you have played it once and then replay it and choose different options, the knowledge you've gathered from the first playthrough will no longer be useful and ''cannot'' be reused. (link: "This")[(goto-url: 'https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/967784325653360664/1090751199365570640/Map_Zeichenflache_1.jpg?width=958&height=630')] is the blueprint of the mansion's second floor. You should copy it somehow, either with pen and paper or with electronical means - it'll make this much easier. In general, a lot of things will be easier if you take notes about people's testimonies, the evidence you find and the situation in general. You don't have to do it, of course, but I'd recommend it. Now, are you ready? [[Begin]]

To absolutely nobody's surprise, Dr. Periwinkle is still just as nervous as before. When he realizes that you intend to talk to him, he curls up - it looks like he's trying to melt into the couch pillows. It almost works; the bright shade of the couch matches his white suit. Unfortunally for him, it's not enough to keep you away. "Dr. Periwinke. You claimed to be in the library, correct?" "Yeah", he mumbles, only barely loud enough to hear. "May I ask what you were reading?" "It's called Demon Child. It's... not as scary as it sounds. Mostly, it's about this young wizard who tries to save his kidnapped friend... I'm not sure what to think of it, really. I chose it at random and it's... somewhat strange." "You like fantasy novels?" It's not really a question. After seeing the stack of books in the library, you're pretty sure you know the answer. You get it anyway: "Yes. My favourite genre. Fantasy adventures. And fairy tales..." "And did Sanders own a lot of them?" "Oh yes. Our taste in literature was very similar. Fortunally... I mean, if he'd only liked horror... or //romance//..." He shudders. You're not sure if this will be very useful... [[Maybe you should talk to someone else->Moveon1]]

You take Mr. Fisher out of the room, because the others shouldn't overhear this. Though once you are in the entrance area, you quickly realize that you made a mistake - there's nothing for him to sit on here and standing won't be good for his broken leg. But when Deering offers to fetch him a chair, he declines. "I can stand", he explains. "My injury is not recent. I could walk and stand without the crutch if I had to. I mainly need it for the staircases, and of course if I am to stand for longer periods of time." You nod. "I understand. Now, you were working in the office, correct?" "Correct", he confirms. "At the desk?" It's a silly question and Fisher raises a brow. "...Yes. At the desk." "You left it rather messy", you note, just to see what he'll say. He doesn't hesitate to agree. "I did. I was planning to talk to Mr. Sanders before finishing my work... but ended up finding a body. I was not in the mood to clean up after that." Understandable. "I discovered a letter among the documents", you say slowly and Fisher tenses up. "...Did you now." You step closer to him and he leans away from you. "You know which letter I mean?" No answer. You repeat the question, a bit louder: "Mr. Fisher. //Do you know which letter I mean//?" "...Yes. I saw it", he admits quietly. "It's nothing to be concerned about. It is just... business." "Just business", you repeat incredulously. He nods. "Mr. Fisher, there is NO way to interpret that letter that would make it just business. It is very obviously an accusation. If you know who wrote this letter or who it was adressed to..." "I exercise my right to remain silent", Fisher interrupts. Crap. Deering groans at your side. Questioning him further is not an option anymore. Still, maybe you can find something useful in what little he told you. //Just business//, he said. But what business? Whose business? It might be related to Mr. Sanders' business in particular. In that case, Tröger or Corbin might be able to help. Perhaps it is something related to Mr. Sanders life in general... then maybe Perks knows something. Or it might be related to business in general - accounting, calculations and paperwork. In that case, your best bet is probably Hunter-Smith. [[Ask Perks->AspPerks1]] [[Ask Madame Corbin->AskCorbin1]] [[Ask Mrs. Hunter-Smith->AskHunter-Smith1]] [[Ask Professor Tröger->AskTröger1]]

Professor Tröger smiles at you when you approach him, but it's the same forced smile from before. "What can I help you with?", he asks politely. "I have some questions about Mr. Sanders' plant collection." Tröger's face brightens up immediately. He looks like a little child who's been asked a question about their favourite dinosaur. You get the subtle feeling that you made a very big mistake. "Oh please, ask me anything! I dare say that I know more about that collection than anyone else! Not even Ben himself... ah." The joy doesn't disappear completely. It does fade, though. "Well... ask me anything", he repeats softly, looking down at his feet with much less enthusiasm. Perhaps talking about plants will distract him. "There was a pot of succulents in the bedroom. Are they part of his collection?" "Most definitely! Discocactus subterraneo-proliferans, the rarest succulent in the world! Likely extinct in the wild, unfortunally, but us plant enthusiasts do our best to keep it alive. They are fickle little things, need a lot of direct sunlight, but if you take proper care of them... of course, they're not exactly cheap." You readily believe that, considering that earlier this man mentioned a plant worth over 400 dollars. What was it called again? "That other plant you mentioned earlier..." "The Monstera Obliqua Peru? It is a beautiful one. I am sure you have seen a Monstera before, they're well-known plants, and this particular variant has smaller leaves with large holes and gaps in them that make it quite distinctive. But they are also the rarest of the Monsteras and not easy to get. I am rather proud that I managed to get my hands on one. I had been planning to give a stem cutting to Ben so he could grow one as well, but..." He trails off and the air grows heavy again. "I'm sorry. I just. It is... a lot to take in." "You don't have to apologize, Professor." "Thank you", he sighs. "Is there anything else you need to know?" Probably not. "No. Thank you for your cooperation." "You are welcome." [[Maybe you should talk to someone else->Moveon1]]

Madame Corbin does not look impressed when you return to question her again. If anything, she radiates an aura of dismissal. "What is it now?" "I have a few questions regarding your room", you begin. She sighs as if youre placing the weight of the entire world on her shoulders. "Very well." "I noticed that it is designed very differently from the rest of this mansion. Does anyone other than you ever stay in this room?" "Rarely. Ben does not... did... not... invite people to stay the night very often. Me and Richard are the only ones who get to stay here on a regular basis." "It shows." She raises a brow and leans back, not taking her eyes off you. "I do hope you kept your fingers to yourself. That necklace alone is worth more money than you'll see in a year." Excuse me?! Did she just imply you'd steal from her?! The nerve of this woman! But wait. Hang on a moment. "There was no necklace in that room", you state. Corbin blinks in surprise. "...It was in an open jewelery box on the dressing table. Impossible to miss." "There were two open boxes there, but... they were both empty." Now she sits up straight. The aura of dismissal has faded in a matter of seconds. "That... is not right", she says, hesitating. "I am certain I left it there. I took one, the one I am now wearing... and I left the other one on my dressing table. I am certain of that." "And I am certain that there was nothing there", you repeat. She looks worried now. "That is... odd..." She sounds genuine. Perhaps you ought to check her room again. [[Check Corbin's room->CheckCorbin'sRoom1]]

Since Perk's phone call gives her a fairly reasonable alibi and close proximity to Madame Corbin may be hazardous to her health, she's been allowed to leave the saloon. You find her in the entrance area, typing on her phone. "Sorry", she says, "just a sec. I'm telling my brother that I won't be home on time today. He'll get worried." You let her finish her message before speaking up. "Is this the same brother you called?" "Yeah. Only got the one." You glance over her shoulder at her phone. She's on WhatsApp, messaging somebody called Bro♥. You notice she hasn't written anything else to him today. "So. You have asthma and work in a place that is frequently visited by a chain smoker. That sounds like it might be an issue." She rolls her eyes. "Ugh, don't tell me about it. My brother told me to try applying for a job here back when he still worked for Sanders. I mean, he's... he wasn't a bad boss or anything, but Corbin's a menace to my lungs." She hesitates, then adds: "Though she could be worse. She only smokes on the balcony or in the garden, not in the house. That's kinda considerate of her, I guess. But that cloud of smoke that surrounds her - ew." "She only smokes on the balcony? Are you sure?" She nods. "Yeah. Why?" "I smelled smoke in Mr. Sanders bedroom earlier. Was she in there at any given point?" "Ooh. No, that's fine. I had the window open while I was working and she was smoking on the balcony. The wind blew some of the smoke inside. It wasn't enough to give me an attack or anything." That's likely true; if that small amount of smoke were enough to give her an asthma attack, then standing in the same room as Corbin would probably kill her on the spot. "Mr. Sanders was aware of your condition?" "Yeah, he knew. He always assigned somebody else to clean the guestrooms if Corbin was staying over because he knew I couldn't do it." "And has this condition ever caused any severe issues on the job for you?" "Nah, nothing that couldn't be solved with a few puffs from my inhaler." "Do you have an inhaler with you right now?" She pulls a small cyan inhaler from her pocket and shows it to you. Seems that everything is in order here. You're not really sure if this brought you closer to your goal, though. [[Maybe you should talk to someone else->Moveon1]]

When you approach Hunter-Smith, you find that she has opened her laptop and is writing a mail. She barely acknowledges your presence. "You work a lot", you note and she shrugs, not taking her hands off the keyboard. "I have a lot to work on." "You're a suspect in a murder right now", Deering reminds her. Hunter-Smith just shrugs again. "Doesn't change the fact that I have a lot to work on." "What are you working on right now?", you ask. Sure, she showed you her work earlier, but you were more interested in the time stamps than the content. "New machine part, pretty confidential. Still a prototype, we're trying to figure out why it doesn't work right. Then there's been an accident at one of the factories. Nobody dead, but I'm going to have to fire at least six people for their negligence and then that factory will be seriously short-staffed. Then there's the contract with one of our biggest clients, he's not happy with it right now and if we lose him, we're in trouble. The marketing department is doing a great job, so I'm planning some raises..." "I see", you cut her off. "That does sound like a lot of work." Although Sanders was in the same business and spent a lot of time partying and (apparently) taking care of rare plants, and his company was doing great... She notices your doubts and shakes her head. "Sanders inherited the company from his parents, I build mine myself. Sanders delegated most of his responsibilities, I prefer taking care of things myself. Sanders stuck to tradition, I like trying new things. Different strategies, both effective, but mine takes more work." She sends her mail, closes the program and immediately opens an Excel chart instead. "And did you and Mr. Sanders ever clash because of these different strategies?" "No. Mind you, we clashed several times for several reasons, but never about that." Hm. So they did clash, huh? She IS his competitor and would benefit greatly from destroying his company. His death has removed one of her greatest rivals. But her time stamps give her one hell of an alibi. If she's the killer, then she either planned it way in advance - and you already concluded that this wasn't premeditated - or she can move at the speed of light. Although looking at the speed at which she types, that might actually be the case. "Earlier today, you said you and Sanders were getting along well at the moment." "Yeah." "What precisely does that mean?" "Getting invited to parties, for one", she answers. "We're headed into different directions right now. I said I like trying new things, right now that new thing is lab equipment. Sanders doesn't make parts for that. Neither do I, but that's going to change soon. And that means I'm doing something that doesn't concern him. If it doesn't concern him, it's not a threat to him. If it's not a threat to him, there's no need to be hostile to me." That does make some sense. "And in the past, you... clashed." "Many times." She closes the Excel chart and opens another one. "I took him to court once. Spionage. He tried to deny it, but the brand-new chip he unveiled was an exact copy of the one I'd been working on. He swears that it wasn't him, but one of his managers. Maybe that's true, 'cause he never tried anything like that again. Made plenty of trouble for me, but nothing illegal. At least not as far as I know." There is a motive here, but it's not all that strong and her alibi is airtight. [[Maybe you should talk to someone else->Moveon1]]

Hunter-Smith has both her laptop open and her phone out. She's switching back and forth between them every minute or so, sometimes even using both at the same time. Deering stares at her with an odd mixture of awe and irritation. "Mrs. Hunter-Smith?", you ask and it takes her a solid thirty seconds to react. "...Uh. What? Oh. Yes?" You don't think you have her full attention, but you have some of it. That'll have to be enough. "We discovered a letter in the office. An accusation, though we unfortunally do not know who is being accused and of what. Mr. Fisher claimed that it was business and refused to tell us more about it." "...Just business, huh?", she says and woah, woah. Now you have her full attention... but not in a good way. "Yes, that's what it was //supposed// to be. Mind reading that letter to me?" "//Did you really think I'd just let this happen? I cannot believe you've sunk so low. Rest assured, this will not stay between the two of us. Consider this your last chance to confess//", you read and her expression darkens. "Right. Of course. Well, I'm afraid I cannot help you with that.", she says and turns back to her laptop. You spend a few minutes asking and repeating questions, but she doesn't say a word. Finally, you turn around and leave. However, just before the door closes behind you, you can only barely hear her whispering to herself: "Who ever heard of an accountant with morals?!" ...? What is that supposed to mean? [[Maybe you should take a second look at that letter...->secondlook1]]

Corbin eyes you with suspicion when you approach her again. "What is it now?" You glare at her. "We discovered a letter in the office. An accusation, though we unfortunally do not know who is being accused and of what. Mr. Fisher claimed that it was business and refused to tell us more about it. Are you aware of any misdeeds related to Mr. Sanders business?" Corbin blinks. Then, her green eyes fill with a rage that makes you take a step back. Her posture goes from relaxed to tense and trembling, not with fear but with fury. "//Do not remind me!//", she hisses. The tone she uses is interesting: Most people would reserve it for words like //scum// or //vermin//. "You do know something about it?", Deering asks, her surprise evident. Corbin hisses again. "Do not remind me", she repeats. "I //told// him something was wrong. I told him!" "Told who what?" "Ben!", she hisses. "He'd been complaining. About. About his private data. How they. How other people. Keep getting them. Private things, like... like information about his finances and, and access to his bank account. And I told him, there is something going on. Stuff like this doesn't just magically become public knowledge!" She clenches her fists. "There are so many people involved in this stuff and one of them, I'm telling you now, one of them has been going behind Ben's back. I told him to check them all, figure out who it might be. He just shrugged it off! As if it was a silly idea! I'm asking you now, is that a silly idea?" "It isn't", you agree. "It's perfectly reasonable. How was his relationship to his workers and subordinates? Do you think he had any suspicions?" She rolls her eyes. "He was convinced that they were all good, honest people. Wonderful boss, except I suppose some people take that as an invitation. Probably the reason he didn't want to consider that I might be right - didn't like the idea that one of his precious employees might have betrayed him." She shrugs. "He's too nice for his own good, really. Well... //was// to nice for his own good, I suppose..." She stares down at her feet, sighs and pulls a box of cigarettes from her bag. "Mind if I head to the balcony for a moment?" Well, she did just give you some rather interesting information. "Fine, as long as the two of us can supervise you." "Acceptable, I suppose." She takes you to the balcony, where she digs through her bag for a moment. After a few seconds, she groans. "Do you have a lighter?" Deering pulls one from her pocket and hands it over. Corbin takes it with a barely perceptable nod. "Mine broke this morning", she explains as she hands it back. You barely pay attention. Instead, you look over at Deering and she looks back at you. The letter is tied to the murder and you both know it. But how to prove it? [[Brainstorm with Deering]] [[Take a closer look at the letter]] [[Check the office again]]

Tröger gives you a friendly smile when you approach him again. "Hello. What do you need?" You decide to cut right to the chase. "We discovered a letter in the office. An accusation, though we unfortunally do not know who is being accused and of what. Mr. Fisher claimed that it was business and refused to tell us more about it. Are you aware of any misdeeds related to Mr. Sanders business?" Tröger pauses. Then, he slowly nods. "It has... been an issue for him recently. Competitors, enemies, criminals, people like that getting their hands on things. Things like his bank information or his financial data. Yvette told him to check who had access to these things and could pass them on." Hm... interesting. So somebody with access to his paperwork betrayed his trust, huh? And the letter... was it directed at that person, then? "Do you know if he followed her advice?" He sighs sadly and shakes his head. "I can not say for sure, but I doubt it. He and Yvette had a bit of an... I do not wish to call it an argument. A disagreement, rather. He was upset at the thought that one of his workers might have betrayed him like that. She called him naive for it." Well... that does sound naive, to be blunt. "What do you think? Was she right to suspect his workers?" "...I do not wish to take sides, detective. If you wish to know more, you should probably ask Yvette." [[Ask Corbin->AskCorbin2]]

You let your eyes sweep over the group of people. They're all gathered together - 6 people, but only one of them is responsible for Sander's death. Periwinkle is trying to make himself look as small as possible - he'd be more successful if he weren't trembling. Perks is just as nervous, though trying to mask it with a smile. Tröger and Corbin are talking in a quiet, hushed voice, though they stop when Deering glances at them. Fisher is showing no signs of emotions apart from the way he clutches his crutch a bit too tightly. Finally, there is Hunter-Smith, holding her phone, but not using it. She doesn't look too happy about it and you suspect that Deering ordered her to behave. You clear your throat and everybody's eyes turn towards you. "One of you", you begin, "has killed a man tonight. Given what I have seen and heard here... there can be no doubt. The killer can only be..." [[Dr. Periwinkle!->AccusePeriwinkle1.1]] [[Madame Corbin!->AccuseCorbin1.1]] [[Mrs. Hunter-Smith!->Accuse Hunter-Smith1.1]] [[Professor Tröger!->AccuseTröger1.1]] [[Ms. Perks!->AccusePerks1.1]] [[Mr. Fisher!->AccuseFisher1.1]] [[Somebody else!->AccuseOther1.1]]

Periwinkle's eyes widen in shock. His mouth opens and closes, unable to form words. Then, finally, he manages: "B-but... but I didn't do it! I was reading, I promise! I never even left the library!" Deering slowly shakes her head. "He's not it. Think about it: We know he was in the library shortly before Sanders died, because Madame Corbin went there to borrow his matches. Now consider the fact that Sanders was struck on the back of the head... the library contains no suitable weapon. If he was in there, he'd have no access to a murder weapon." "Perhaps he picked one up beforehand, took it into the library and then waited there to strike." Another headshake. "No. Not premediated, remember? Face it, this doesn't work no matter how you slice it." Darn it. Maybe you really did get it wrong. So... [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation1.1]]

Corbin's face shows surprise... but only for a second. Then she sighs, throws a wistful glance at Perks and smirks at you. "I hate to disappoint you, but the only thing I'll be killing today is your track record. You must have forgotten that I was smoking on the balcony with my dear Richard." "There is no reason to believe that", you insist. Behind you, Deering coughs. "What?", you ask her and she smiles sheepishly. "Nothing. Just... remember the smoke smell in the bedroom? Corbin never entered the bedroom, otherwise Perks would have seen her... and probably had an asthma attack, too. So the smell must have blown in from the balcony. And fairly recently, too, since it would have faded otherwise. The window was open. Plus, Tröger's testimony matches hers perfectly, so..." She doesn't continue and doesn't need to. [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation1.1]]

Hunter-Smith looks up, her brows furrowed. "What? I wasn't paying attention. Did you just accuse me? No, can't be, I was working." Deering glares at you, confused. "You know that's true, you checked her timestamps yourself!" "She might have prepared them in advance", you insist. Deering stares at you in open disbelief. "Are you daft?! We already concluded that this wasn't premeditated!" Oh. Right. You must have gotten something mixed up. [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation1.1]]

Tröger stares at you. Then, a flicker of genuine hurt goes over his face. "Really? You stand here and accuse me of murdering my friend? Have you forgotten that I was peacefully talking to Yvette on the balcony?" "So you claim", you remind him, "but is there any evidence supporting that?" "Uh... actually, I think there is", Deering says awkwardly. "Do you remember your initial questioning of Corbin? She mentioned a plant by name. Sure, she didn't get the name exactly right, but she still knew that name, even though the plant in question is extremely rare and the vast majority of people don't know about it at all. Now, keeping in mind that Professor Tröger also mentioned that plant and that both of them have testified - independently - that they haven't talked in a while before today, not to mention that she'd likely not remember something like a scientific plant name for long even if she'd been told about it earlier... she must have heard of that plant during their chat." You do remember her mangling the name of that plant... and it is true, the chance of her learning about it from anyone else than Professor Tröger is very unlikely. [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation1.1]]

Perks gasps and raises her hands. "Woah, woah! Hang on a moment! I was in the bedroom cleaning! And then I called my brother! It wasn't me!" You already verified that there was a phone call. "You could have arranged for that beforehand", you argue. "For him to call you. Then you simply put the phone down, let the call play out and killed Sanders. That would have given you an alibi." "Yeah. A //prearranged// alibi", Deering snarks. "For a murder that wasn't premeditated. Sure." Oh. Uh, well... [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation1.1]]

Fisher pauses a moment, seemingly waiting for you to take it back. When you don't do so, he sighs. "So. You're going to ignore the fact that I was peacefully working in the office?" "Not at all. That is precisely why I am accusing you." Fisher's eyes widen in shock. You smile. "Earlier today... I found a letter. You refused to give me any information about it, but you didn't have to. That letter was directed at you, Mr. Fisher." "It... it was not!" "It was", you repeat. "Are you aware that Mr. Sanders had been struggling with his private data going missing? Information about his finances and access to his bank accounts, given to strangers." "I heard about that", Hunter-Smith says quietly. "I don't know who's more despicable, the person who gave it away or the pople who took it." "Now, who would know his finances like the back of his hand? Who would be capable of figuring out his bank information with ease?" "...His accountant", Tröger whispers in horror. "Fisher, you didn't." Fisher doesn't answer, so you do it in his stead. "He did. He's been selling Sanders' data." Fisher crosses his arms. "Even if that were true", he hisses with clear disdain, "that would hardly make me a killer!" "True. And I do believe that you had no intention of killing anyone until you read that letter... a letter informing you that you had been caught. Because that is what happened, Fisher. Sanders figured out what you were doing. He realized that the only person who could possibly betray him like this was his accountant." Fisher remains quiet. Corbin, however, gives a stifled gasp. Several people turn to her in surprise. "//I told him//", she whispers. "I... I told him to check... to see who could... and then..." You can't imagine how terrible she must feel, knowing that her well-intentioned words have led to this. "It is not your fault, Madame Corbin", you say softly as Tröger puts an arm around her shoulder. "You could not have known that Fisher would react like this. Sanders did not know it, either. He could have gone to the police straight away, but instead he wrote a letter and left it for Mr. Fisher to find, giving him one last chance to confess his crimes and get a reduced sentence. But instead of taking that chance... you stooped to murder. You left the office in search for Sanders and found him in the hallway... where you killed him." "I can't believe it!", Perks gasps. "That's despicable!" "...What with?", Fisher asks. His voice is shaking. He's trying to act calm, but he isn't succeeding. "You claim that I killed him. If so, what did I kill him with?!" "Yeah, what with? We didn't find a murder weapon", Deering says. "You did, actually. You just didn't realize what it was. In fact, he is holding it right now." And everybody's gaze drops... to the heavy, metallic crutch in Fisher's hands. "For a man as buff as Fisher here, it would be no issue to swing his crutch hard enough to kill." "Fisher, you //enculé//!", Corbin yells and lunges forward. Only Tröger's quick reaction stops her from grabbing him. Periwinkle, meanwhile, is staring at Fisher with sheer horror in his eyes. "With your... your crutch? He //paid// that for you... how could you..." "You're all morons!", Fisher yells, furiously. "I need that crutch to //walk//! If I were to use it to hit someone, I'd //fall//!" "Oh, really?", Deering snaps. "How weird. I could have sworn that, not long ago, you informed us that you could easily walk and stand without your crutch." Fisher's face turn's an interesting shade of red. "You... you..." "I highly advise you to take Mr. Sanders offer and confess now", you state calmly. "You are only making this worse for yourself." Fisher doesn't say another word. He only glares at you. You shrug. "Very well. Have it your way. It'll do you no good in the end." [[And thus...->End1.1]]

"...//Somebody else//?", Deering repeats and stares at you. "There //was// nobody else!" "Well... it might have been... you, Deering!" She does not look amused. "Very funny." You grin at her, but she just rolls her eyes. "Alright, alright. We got the joke. Now do you //actually// know who did it or are you just goofing around?" Ugh, tough crowd. It's almost as if she doesn't want to lighten the mood. But fine. [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation1.1]]

Whelp. That was embarrassing. You clear your throat and try to look like nothing happened. "Ahem. As I was saying, the killer is..." [[Dr. Periwinkle!->AccusePeriwinkle1.1]] [[Madame Corbin!->AccuseCorbin1.1]] [[Mrs. Hunter-Smith!->Accuse Hunter-Smith1.1]] [[Professor Tröger!->AccuseTröger1.1]] [[Ms. Perks!->AccusePerks1.1]] [[Mr. Fisher!->AccuseFisher1.1]] [[Somebody else!->AccuseOther1.1]]

Fisher remained stubborn to the end, but it did him no good. His guilt was proven in court and it seems that he will be spending a very long time in prison. Turned out that this hadn't been the first time he sold his client's information, though it was his first murder. Several of his former clients are now lining up to sue him further... his future does not look good at all. Corbin is struggling. She feels responsible for what happened and you've heard that she is considering therapy to deal with her guilt. Tröger has taken it upon himself to take care of Sanders' plant collection. He is taking that duty very seriously. You actually see Perks quite frequently, because she now works at the cafe right next to the precinct. She has already memorized your coffee order and Deering swears that the room has never looked cleaner. Hunter-Smith has expressed an interest in taking over Sanders' company. As he has no family, it cannot be passed down to his children. It's not guaranteed that she will do it, though, so for now his company is leaderless. Periwinkle was a great help during the court proceedings. With his medical expertice, it could be proven that Fisher was perfectly capable of hitting Sanders without falling. And as for you and Deering? Well, the next case already awaits. Though you do wonder every once in a while... Could things have gone differently? What if... [[Yes, what if?->Begin]]

You never make it to Corbin's room though. As you walk through the hallway, just past the spot where Mr. Sanders died, you notice something glinting underneath the dresser standing there. As you kneel down and reach for it, you see that it is a necklace. Several thin, frail chains of gleaming silver tie a row of gorgeous green emeralds together. They're smooth and flawless and you have no doubt that this necklace is worth more than all your belongings put together. This must be Madame Corbin's necklace. But why is it out here? You get up and look around. Alright... Sanders died right here next to this dresser. And the necklace was underneath that dresser. The question is, are these two events connected or is it just a weird coincidence? For now, you should return the necklace to Corbin... and maybe ask her if she knows what it was doing there. [[Return it to Corbin->ReturntoCorbin]]

Corbin's face lights up when she sees the necklace in your hands. "Ah! So, was it in my room, then?" You shake your head as you hand it over to her, slender fingers closing around it. "No. I found it in the hallway underneath the dresser." She freezes, staring down at the necklace. "That... what? How did it... //what//?" She looks completely lost. You can't blame her. "So based on your reaction, I assume that you don't have any idea how it got there?" "...Somebody must have taken it", she says slowly. "To steal. But then how... how did it end up under the dresser? That makes no sense!" She stares at the necklace with a strenght that would shatter weaker jewelery into pieces. "And my room was locked! I always lock it!" That is true, the room was locked when you investigated it earlier. She was carrying the key on her person, was she not? "You had the key?", you ask and she nods frantically. "Yes! Ben had one made just for me, so I wouldn't have to borrow his every time, and... I had it with me the entire day!" ...Oh dear. It seems that she doesn't realize what that means... You, however, will put this aside for now. You still have some other things to do, after all. [[Ask Fisher about the letter->AskaboutLetter1]]

You take Mr. Fisher out of the room, because the others shouldn't overhear this. Though once you are in the entrance area, you quickly realize that you made a mistake - there's nothing for him to sit on here and standing won't be good for his broken leg. But when Deering offers to fetch him a chair, he declines. "I can stand", he explains. "My injury is not recent. I could walk and stand without the crutch if I had to. I mainly need it for the staircases, and of course if I am to stand for longer periods of time." You nod. "I understand. Now, you were working in the office, correct?" "Correct", he confirms. "At the desk?" It's a silly question and Fisher raises a brow. "...Yes. At the desk." "You left it rather messy", you note, just to see what he'll say. He doesn't hesitate to agree. "I did. I was planning to talk to Mr. Sanders before finishing my work... but ended up finding a body. I was not in the mood to clean up after that." Understandable. "I discovered a letter among the documents", you say slowly and Fisher nods, equally slowly. "Did you now." "So you know which letter I mean?" "I know that, yes. However, it is nothing to be concerned about. It is just... business." "Just business", you repeat incredulously. He nods. "Mr. Fisher, there is NO way to interpret that letter that would make it just business. It is very obviously an accusation. If you know who wrote this letter or who it was adressed to..." "Ask Hunter-Smith", he interrupts and then shuts his mouth. Even as you continue asking and repeating your questions, he refuses to say another word. Well... then perhaps you ought to do as he said. [[Ask Hunter-Smith->AskHunter-SmithLetter1]]

Hunter-Smith has both her laptop open and her phone out. She's switching back and forth between them every minute or so, sometimes even using both at the same time. Deering stares at her with an odd mixture of awe and irritation. "Mrs. Hunter-Smith?", you ask and it takes her a solid thirty seconds to react. "...Uh. What? Oh. Yes?" You don't think you have her full attention, but you have some of it. That'll have to be enough. "We discovered a letter in the office. An accusation, though we unfortunally do not know who is being accused and of what. Mr. Fisher's testimony implied that you might know something about it. He also claimed that it was just business. Do you know anything about this?" "...Just business, huh?", she says and woah, woah. Now you have her full attention... but not in a good way. "Yes, that's what it was //supposed// to be. Mind reading that letter to me?" "//Did you really think I'd just let this happen? I cannot believe you've sunk so low. Rest assured, this will not stay between the two of us. Consider this your last chance to confess//", you read and her expression darkens. "Right. Of course. Well, I'm afraid I cannot help you with that.", she says and turns back to her laptop. You spend a few minutes asking and repeating questions, but she doesn't say a word. Finally, you turn around and leave. However, just before the door closes behind you, you can only barely hear her whispering to herself: "Who ever heard of an accountant with morals?!" ...? What is that supposed to mean? [[Maybe you should take a second look at that letter...->secondlook1.1]]

You take a second look at the letter and then a third. Its contents do not change, nor do they suddenly reveal some previously unknown truth to you. But as you sit there in the office pondering... something else catches your attention. Now. You are not the best at paperwork, especially the kind of paperwork that applies to company owners. The documents and charts strewn all over the desk mean very little to you. But even you know that 3405 + 814 is not 5116. Once you notice that, you see it everywhere. Miscalculations, mislabelled papers, blatant errors everywhere. And you're certain that the parts you don't understand are also riddled with errors. Either Fisher is the worst accountant in history or he purposely created a bunch of fake and severely flawed documents. And in that case, the obvious question is: Why? ... It is unlikely to be directed at Mr. Sanders. No, based on what you've seen so far, it is likely somehow related to Hunter-Smith. Did Fisher write that letter, then? And if so, why would he refuse to testify about it? You're all about homicides and assault cases, not about false paperwork. Luckily you have Deering with you, who's more of an everyday officer. "Could Fisher get into trouble for falsifying these documents?", you ask. Deering ponders it for a minute or two before slowly answering. "Well... knowingly creating distributing a false document could get him in trouble, yes. It would depend on why exactly he did it and who he distributed it to, but in general? Yes. At the very least, if might make his future clients wary of him. Knowing that your accountant can and has forged documents... not a comfortable thought for most people." An accountant with morals, Hunter-Smith said. Now, what non-immoral reason could there be for someone to create a bunch of obviously false documents? And how are they connected to the letter? Are the documents and the accusation both directed at Hunter-Smith... and if so, what did she do to cause this? One thing's for sure, though: Right now, neither Hunter-Smith nor Fisher want to talk to you. Perhaps, then, it is time to talk to somebody else. [[Ask Madame Corbin about her room->AskaboutRoom1.1]]

Corbin's face lights up when she sees the necklace in your hands. "Ah! So, was it in my room, then?" You shake your head as you hand it over to her, slender fingers closing around it. "No. I found it in the hallway underneath the dresser." She freezes, staring down at the necklace. "That... what? How did it... //what//?" She looks completely lost. You can't blame her. "So based on your reaction, I assume that you don't have any idea how it got there?" "...Somebody must have taken it", she says slowly. "To steal. But then how... how did it end up under the dresser? That makes no sense!" She stares at the necklace with a strenght that would shatter weaker jewelery into pieces. "And my room was locked! I always lock it!" That is true, the room was locked when you investigated it earlier. She was carrying the key on her person, was she not? "You had the key?", you ask and she nods frantically. "Yes! Ben had one made just for me, so I wouldn't have to borrow his every time, and... I had it with me the entire day!" ...Oh dear. It seems that she doesn't realize what that means... You, however? You're fairly certain that you know precisely what this means. Now, perhaps one last chat will bring everything to light... [[Try talking to Mr. Fisher->talktoFisher1]]

Fisher barely spares you a glance when you approach him again. He also doesn't say anything. Many people throw away their right to remain silent even after they declared it, saying something without thinking about it and accidentally giving something away. Apparently Fisher is not one of these people. You clear your throat. "Mr. Fisher. I do believe that I know why you wrote that letter. It was..." [[...directed at Mr. Sanders...->directedatSanders]] [[...directed at Mrs. Hunter-Smith...->directedatHS]] [[...directed at yourself...->directedatFisher]]

Fisher just stares at you. His expression - there is no other way to describe it - is that of somebody who is just so //done// with everything. "Uh... really?", Deering asks, confused. "How'd you come up with that?" That is an excellent question. [[Let's try this again->Tryagain1]]

"...directed at Hunter-Smith... because..." [[...she's been trying to make you work for her for free.]] [[...you wanted to ruin her to support Sanders' business]] [[...she asked you to give her access to Sanders' paperwork]] [[...she broke your leg]]

Fisher's crutch slips from his hands onto the floor. He leans over to grab it and when he comes back up, he looks at you as if you'd just ordered him to eat a motorcycle. "...What?!" Deering is looking at you in much the same way. "Why on earth would he... what?!" Okay, maybe this doesn't make as much sense as you thought. [[Let's try this again->Tryagain1]]

Fisher gives a barely audible groan. It's not the sound of somebody who's been caught red-handed. "Why would she do that?", Deering asks. "She does her own accounting, remember? And she likes working." That is true. Maybe you need to think about this once more. [[Let's try this again->Tryagain1]]

Fisher raises a brow. He does not look impressed. Deering leans in. "Uh... actually, he broke his leg in a car accident. Some drunk jerk ran a red light..." Oh. Well, it was worth a guess. [[Let's try this again->Tryagain1]]

"Ahem. What I meant of course is that the letter you wrote was... [[...directed at Mr. Sanders...->directedatSanders]] [[...directed at Mrs. Hunter-Smith...->directedatHS]] [[...directed at yourself...->directedatFisher]]

Fisher... flinches. There it is. "At the end of the day...", you say slowly, "Hunter-Smith and Sanders were rivals. Competitors who have clashed several times in the past and would have clashed again if it hadn't been for Sanders' demise. She'd have good reasons for wanting to get a closer look at some of his paperwork. Knowing his exact finances, maybe even gaining access to his bank accounts... that would benefit her very much." Fisher looks extremely tense. His knuckles are staring to go white from how strongly he's gripping his crutch. "When I first questioned her, she claimed that she'd talked to you before starting her work and that is true. However, she also claimed that she was talking about accounting... and that is not true. She asked you to let her access Sanders' files. And you agreed." His grip gets even tighter. "You then proceeded to create a bunch of false paperwork and a letter informing her that you would not go along with her plan. I'd assume that the intention was to let her into the office so she could go through the documents. During that, she would inevitably realize that the majority of your calculations were wrong, followed by her finding the letter. Is that not correct?" No answer. Deering clears her throat. "Mr. Fisher, if this is indeed the case, then you have not done anything illegal or immoral. I'd even dare say that this display of honesty will have a very positive effect on your career." Fisher raises his head a bit, looks at you. You can see that he's nervous, but Deering's words seem to have had some effect. "R-really?" "You're not in trouble, Mr. Fisher", you confirm. "If anything, this gives you a perfect alibi." He hesitates for a second or so. Then he nods. "You're right", he says quietly. "That is exactly what happened. I'd just gotten done with the false paperwork and was planning to find Hunter-Smith and inform her that she could go to the office now. But I took the long way through the hallway - mostly to stave off my own nervosity - and... stumbled upon the corpse instead..." He shudders slightly. "Hunter-Smith still has an alibi, though", Deering notes. "So she may be a jerk without ethics, but she's not responsible for the murder." No. She isn't. But... process of elimination... You're pretty sure you know who the killer is. But the question is... why? [[Perhaps one final look at the crime scene...->Doublecheck1]]

Fisher just sighs quietly. It isn't the reaction you were hoping for. Deering bites her lip. "How... how would that work? Maybe if it had been a public accusation, but like this...? How would this ruin her?" Well, obviously by... uh... Huh. [[Let's try this again->Tryagain1]]

You return to the hallway and spend at least ten minutes just staring at the chalk outline on the ground. Then you think about the manor's general layout. You think about where each person claimed to have been... and if any of them would have had to walk past this exact spot to get there. One thing you're still missing is the murder weapon. Though as you look down at the outline... A hit to the back of the head. And Sanders was found lying on his back... You glance at outline again. At the doors. The walls. The dresser standing right next to the corpse and the small pictures on the wall above it. Huh. Perhaps you have found the weapon after all. Though that... Well... that almost seems... And just like that, everything slots into place. You've got it. You know exactly who the killer is and why. [[It's time...->It'sTime1.1]]

You take a second look at the letter and then a third. Its contents do not change, nor do they suddenly reveal some previously unknown truth to you. But as you sit there in the office pondering... something else catches your attention. Now. You are not the best at paperwork, especially the kind of paperwork that applies to company owners. The documents and charts strewn all over the desk mean very little to you. But even you know that 3405 + 814 is not 5116. Once you notice that, you see it everywhere. Miscalculations, mislabelled papers, blatant errors everywhere. And you're certain that the parts you don't understand are also riddled with errors. Either Fisher is the worst accountant in history or he purposely created a bunch of fake and severely flawed documents. And in that case, the obvious question is: Why? ... It is unlikely to be directed at Mr. Sanders. No, based on what you've seen so far, it is likely somehow related to Hunter-Smith. Did Fisher write that letter, then? And if so, why would he refuse to talk about it? You're all about homicides and assault cases, not about false paperwork. Luckily you have Deering with you, who's more of an everyday officer. "Could Fisher get into trouble for falsifying these documents?", you ask. Deering ponders it for a minute or two before slowly answering. "Well... knowingly creating distributing a false document could get him in trouble, yes. It would depend on why exactly he did it and who he distributed it to, but in general? Yes. At the very least, if might make his future clients wary of him. Knowing that your accountant can and has forged documents... not a comfortable thought for most people." An accountant with morals, Hunter-Smith said. Now, what non-immoral reason could there be for someone to create a bunch of obviously false documents? And how are they connected to the letter? Are the documents and the accusation both directed at Hunter-Smith... and if so, what did she do to cause this? One thing's for sure, though: Right now, Hunter-Smith does not want to talk to you. Neither does Mr. Fisher, but perhaps this new information will get him to answer. [[Try talking to Mr. Fisher->talktoFisher1.1]]

Fisher barely spares you a glance when you approach him again. He also doesn't say anything. Many people cannot stay quiet for long, eventually feeling the need to say something just to fill the silence. Apparently Fisher is not one of these people. You clear your throat. "Mr. Fisher. I do believe that I know why you wrote that letter. It was..." [[...directed at Mr. Sanders...->directedatSanders1]] [[...directed at Mrs. Hunter-Smith...->directedatHS1]] [[...directed at yourself...->directedatFisher1]]

"...directed at Hunter-Smith... because..." [[...she's been trying to make you work for her for free.->workforfree]] [[...you wanted to ruin her to support Sanders' business->supportbusiness]] [[...she asked you to give her access to Sanders' paperwork->accesspaperwork]] [[...she broke your leg->brokeleg]]

"Ahem. What I meant of course is that the letter you wrote was... [[...directed at Mr. Sanders...->directedatSanders1]] [[...directed at Mrs. Hunter-Smith...->directedatHS1]] [[...directed at yourself...->directedatFisher1]]

You let your eyes sweep over the group of people. They're all gathered together - 6 people, but only one of them is responsible for Sander's death. Periwinkle is trying to make himself look as small as possible - he'd be more successful if he weren't trembling. Perks is just as nervous, though trying to mask it with a smile. Tröger and Corbin are talking in a quiet, hushed voice, though they stop when Deering glances at them. Fisher is hiding his nervosity rather well - at first glance, he looks calm, but the way he keeps looking at Hunter-Smith betrays him. Hunter-Smith herself is holding her phone, but not using it. She's glaring at you instead, and not in a kind way. You clear your throat and everybody's eyes turn towards you. "One of you", you begin, "has killed a man tonight. Given what I have seen and heard here... there can be no doubt. The killer can only be..." [[Dr. Periwinkle!->AccusePeriwinkle1.2]] [[Madame Corbin!->AccuseCorbin1.2]] [[Mrs. Hunter-Smith!->Accuse Hunter-Smith1.2]] [[Professor Tröger!->AccuseTröger1.2]] [[Ms. Perks!->AccusePerks1.2]] [[Mr. Fisher!->AccuseFisher1.2]] [[Somebody else!->AccuseOther1.2]]

Periwinkle's eyes widen in shock. His mouth opens and closes, unable to form words. Then, finally, he manages: "B-but... but I didn't do it! I was reading, I promise! I never even left the library!" You nod. "Correct. You didn't. You killed Sanders before entering the library." Corbin rolls her eyes. "He? Come on, he's like a puppy that studied medicine." "First impressions can be deceiving", you tell her, and with a smirk you add: "And so can second, third and fourth impressions. For example, are you aware that Mr. Sanders attempted to steal your necklace?" Tröger gasps and Corbin's eyes go wide. "That... no. He wouldn't do that!" "I'm afraid he did. After all, he was the only person who had a key to your room. In fact, he was holding the necklace when he died... which is why it was found under the dresser next to his body." She pales. "No. No, he... that can't be..." "One time...", Tröger starts slowly, "...my wallet disappeared while I was staying here. I thought that perhaps one of the workers had taken it..." Perks nods. "I remember that", she mumbles. "The cops investigated us, but they found no evidence. 'Cause none of us had done it." "What does that have to do with anything?", Hunter-Smith interrupts. She looks tense. Chances are she knows she's in trouble no matter the outcome and just wants to get this over with. "Simple. Sanders had just taken the necklace from Madame Corbin's room and was planning to escape with his ill-gotten gains... however, when he left the room and stepped into the hallway, he bumped into Dr. Periwinkle here, who was on his way to the library." "N-no. That isn't what happened!", Periwinkle whimpers. You can see tears in the corners of his eyes. Perhaps it is time to give him some comfort. He looks like he's on the edge of a mental breakdown. "You're not in trouble, Dr. Periwinkle", you say softly and Periwinkle blinks. "W-what?" "What?", echoes Deering, confused. "What do you mean, he's not in trouble? He killed somebody!" You smile. "There is one thing that you didn't find, Deering. A murder weapon. And that is because... there was no weapon. And more importantly... there was no murder." "Excuse me?!", Fisher gasps and Tröger gets up from his seat. "What are you saying?!" "Sanders died because the back of his head hit the dresser", you explain. "He wasn't struck. He //fell//." Periwinkle doesn't say anything, but he's shaking all over. "But here's the thing", you continue. "That was simply bad luck. He could have fallen slightly to the left and would have hit nothing but carpet. He could have fallen slightly to the right and the dresser would have hit his shoulders instead, which wouldn't have been deadly. An odd thing for a murderer to rely on, isn't it? So, Dr. Periwinkle. I have one question for you." You wait until the doctor nods. It isn't the firmest nod, nor does he look eager to answer, but he nods. "What precisely did Mr. Sanders do when you caught him in the act of stealing?" Periwinkle mumbles something. "I didn't catch that. Can you repeat yourself?" "He grabbed me", Periwinkle mumbles. It's still barely audible. "I... I saw the necklace in his hands and asked him what he was doing... so he, he lunged f-forward... and grabbed me... and I, I..." He doesn't continue. He doesn't have to. "You //pushed// him", Perks whispers in awe. "I d-didn't mean to k-kill him!" At last, he loses the fight against those tears and starts sobbing. Tröger hesitates for a moment before gently placing a hand on the doctor's shoulder. "I j-just pushed him away! It was a reflex! But he t-tripped and fell and I... I..." "You panicked", you finish the sentence for him. "That is understandable. You hid in the library and pretended to be reading. But at the end of the day, you did nothing wrong. What you did was nothing but an innocent accident. Pushing him away was justified self defense and his death is nobody's fault... it was just bad luck." [[And thus...->End1.2]]

Corbin's face shows surprise... but only for a second. Then she sighs, throws a wistful glance at Perks and smirks at you. "I hate to disappoint you, but the only thing I'll be killing today is your track record. You must have forgotten that I was smoking on the balcony with my dear Richard." "There is no reason to believe that", you insist. Behind you, Deering coughs. "What?", you ask her and she smiles sheepishly. "Nothing. Just... remember the smoke smell in the bedroom? Corbin never entered the bedroom, otherwise Perks would have seen her... and probably had an asthma attack, too. So the smell must have blown in from the balcony. And fairly recently, too, since it would have faded otherwise. The window was open. Plus, Tröger's testimony matches hers perfectly, so..." She doesn't continue and doesn't need to. [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation1.2]]

Hunter-Smith's glare somehow gets even stronger. "What?! Did you just accuse me? I was working!" Deering glares at you, confused. "You know that's true, you checked her timestamps yourself!" "She might have prepared them in advance", you insist. Deering stares at you in open disbelief. "Are you daft?! We already concluded that this wasn't premeditated! Look, I get that she tried something criminal tonight, but it wasn't this!" Oh. Right. You must have gotten something mixed up. [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation1.2]]

Fisher looks at you with utter confusion, seemingly waiting for you to take it back. When you don't do so, he slowly raises one hand. "So. You're going to ignore the fact that I was... doing... //paperwork//?" "We can't know how long that took", you insist. "You might have left the office at some point." "Uh... there were hundreds of false documents there", Deering reminds you. "And pretty much every single calculation and bit of information had been tampered with. It's true that we don't know exactly how long he took... but it took a while." She pauses, then adds: "Also, what's the point of protecting Sanders' information only to then murder him? That's an interesting type of loyality you've invented there." Ugh, she really could have cut back on the snark there. But she might have a point... [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation1.2]]

Whelp. That was embarrassing. You clear your throat and try to look like nothing happened. "Ahem. As I was saying, the killer is..." [[Dr. Periwinkle!->AccusePeriwinkle1.2]] [[Madame Corbin!->AccuseCorbin1.2]] [[Mrs. Hunter-Smith!->Accuse Hunter-Smith1.2]] [[Professor Tröger!->AccuseTröger1.2]] [[Ms. Perks!->AccusePerks1.2]] [[Mr. Fisher!->AccuseFisher1.2]] [[Somebody else!->AccuseOther1.2]]

Sure enough, Periwinkle's actions were declared to be justified self defense. The case was all over the news, as expected, though the reporters were not happy that if involved an introvert who was less than interested in giving interviews or answering questions. By now, things have calmed down and Periwinkle's life is likely back to normal Corbin returned to France. She didn't bother to go to Sanders' funeral - not after he tried to steal from her. Tröger has also washed his hands of Sanders. He didn't even offer to take his plant collection, instead letting it be sold to other collectors. You don't know the price it fetched, but it's probably more than you'll earn in a year. You actually see Perks quite frequently, because she now works at the cafe right next to the precinct. She has already memorized your coffee order and Deering swears that the room has never looked cleaner. Hunter-Smith is in hot water right now. While her punishment for attempting to steal Sanders' paperwork was fairly benign, her customers are leaving in droves. She's also being investigated further and if it turns out that she's tried this trick with other rivals before, she might very well go to prison. Fisher meanwhile won't have to worry about his career for a while. Just as predicted, the proof of his honesty attracted several new customers. And as for you and Deering? Well, the next case already awaits. Though you do wonder every once in a while... Could things have gone differently? What if... [[Yes, what if?->Begin]]

Your first target is the man closest to you. He's elderly and overweight, wearing a dark brown suit. His tie is green and so are his eyes, eyes peeking through small round glasses. Grey, fluffy hair frames his face with a thick beard. He's smiling, but it's clearly forced, a deep sadness evident behind it. His pose suggests the same, curled up and wrapping his arms around himself. He introduces himself before you can say anything: "I am Professor Tröger." "Professor Tröger. Where were you at the time of the murder?" "In the indoor garden", Tröger says without hesitating. "I am a botanist and a collector of rare plants. Ben shares... shared that hobby." "Ben?" "Benjamin Sanders", he explains and swallows. "The... victim." "Were you close?" Talking to close friends and family... that is always hard. They tend to forget details or get things mixed up... and you can't even blame them. It must be horrible. "Yes. We have been friends for many years", he whispers sadly and closes his eyes. "To think, I was talking to him mere minutes before his demise..." "Were you?", you ask. He nods softly. "He was in the indoor garden with me. We were talking about this beautiful cactus he aquired - Haageocereus Tenuis, incredibly rare - when Mister Fisher came to show him some paperwork." "...And then?", you ask, curious. "A few minutes passed. Then, Fisher returned to the garden to take a phone call. It was rather lenghty, one hour at least. When it was over, he left... he likely returned to the office." A phone call? Interesting. That might give Mr. Fisher an alibi. But wait. "Did you hear anything? A scream, any sound of surprise? The sounds of a fight, maybe?" The office and the garden aren't far apart. But Deering speaks up: "Mr. Sanders took noise control very seriously from what we've gathered, because these walls are almost completely sound proof. I suppose that's useful for somebody who likes loud parties that last all night." Ugh. Fine. "Did you leave the indoor garden at any point?" "No. I remained in there until the police came to get me." Right. Given all that... perhaps you should talk to Fisher next. Whoever that is. [[Continue Questioning->QuestionFisher2]]

You step towards a slender woman and immediately find yourself surrounded by the thick smell of cigarette smoke, She isn't even actively smoking, but the smell clings to her like a very unusual type of perfume. It clogs your throat, so you step back and observe from a distance. She wears a long, elegant dress and a thick grey feather boa around her narrow shoulders. Her black hair is tied into a high ponytail. Your eyes are drawn towards the gorgeous emerald necklace around her neck. It looks incredibly valuable. "May I have your name?", you ask. She cocks a brow and takes her time before answering. "...Madame Corbin." Her voice is scratchy, likely from smoking. "Madame Corbin. What was your relation to the victim?" Again, she waits before answering. Narrow green eyes stare you down. "...Ben was my friend", she finally says. "We have known each other for 13 years." "And what were you doing up here?" "I live in France", she explains. "Thus, I am currently staying in one of the guest rooms. The second one, to be exact. I came up here to change clothes... some prick had spilled wine on my dress. Once I was done with that, I decided to have a smoke." "I see. Is that all, then?" "Yes, precisely." You look her up and down. "You appear to be rather... wealthy." "The people of France apprechiate good design", she says. "They pay well for properly-made clothes." "Ah. You are a designer?" "I am, yes. This", she gestures at her dress, "is one of my creations. Lovely, isn't it?" It is. The jade green silk compliments her hair beautifully and that long feather boa around her shoulders... You have to admit that she knows her job. "Ben made use of my skill quite often. Most of his outfits are my design", she adds, a look of pride on her face. "And Richard there", she points at Professor Tröger, "has a coat made by me. A shame he's not wearing it. That suit is dreadful." But she says it with a smile and a fond undertone. She seems to know Tröger personally. [[Continue Questioning->QuestionHunterSmith2]]

The //girl// as Corbin called her is a pudgy brunette teenager, sitting at the very edge of the couch far away from the others. She isn't dressed as elegantly as the others; her outfit consists of a blue sweater and a pair of worn jeans, plus dark blue sneakers. She also keeps throwing glances at the other guests, especially at Corbin. You remember what Deering said. 5 guests and a domestic worker. This must be the worker. "May I have your name?", you ask and she hesitates. "Uh... Ms. Perks, I guess? Sorry, a bit nervous. I'm, uh, I'm a cleaner. Part-time cleaner.." Another glance at Corbin. She has already answered quite a few questions just with that sentence, but it can't hurt to make sure: "And you were likely up here because of your duties, correct?" "Yeah. I was cleaning the saloon." Right. So she was in here, like Hunter-Smith said. "Did you see Mrs. Hunter-Smith while you were doing so?" "Yeah. She was on her laptop." "And you left the room while she was still working?" "Yes", she confirms. "I finished my work here and went to clean the library next. I found Dr. Periwinkle here." She smiles. It looks a bit forced. Her seeing Hunter-Smith does not prove that Hunter-Smith wasn't the killer. It does, however, mean that Hunter-Smith was indeed in the saloon. Though whether or not she left it at any point... you cannot know that. "Do you know any of the other people here?", you ask. If she worked for Sanders, she might be familiar with the people he keeps around. She shrugs. "Kinda. The one with the leg is his accountant, right? And that one's his doctor. Uh... I do know these two, though." She points at Tröger and Corbin. "They came over a lot. Corbin especially." She grimaces. "You do not seem to like Madame Corbin", you note. She sighs. "Corbin's not a bad person or anything", she explains. "Just, she's a chain smoker and I... well, I've got asthma. Not a good combination." Another smile. "I can't even stand next to her for long without almost dying. That's why I'm all the way over here." She pulls out a small inhaler. Behind you, Deering speaks up: "We've confirmed that she does have asthma." Right. One last person to talk to. [[Continue Questioning->QuestionPeriwinkle2]]

The last suspect is a small blond man with large, blue eyes. He seems quite young, no older than thirty-five. He's meekly hunched over on his corner of the couch, trying to make himself as small as possible. Unfortunally for him, he sticks out like a sore thumb: The other suspects are dressed in dark shades, while he is wearing a completely white suit. He's also wearing a bowtie, while the other three suit-wearing suspects are all wearing normal ties. He'd make a handsome groom, but it's an odd outfit for a simple party. He's playing around with his fingers... fingers that are stuck in light grey gloves. Interesting... You clear your throat and he flinches. "May I have your name?", you ask and he nods quickly. "Periwinkle. Dr. Periwinkle. I'm... I'm a doctor", he mumbles, not looking at you. Yes, Perks did say that. "Mr. Sanders' doctor, I'd assume?" "Yes. I... I'm a concierge doctor, that means that he pays... paid... me a monthly fee and thus I was on call for him at any given time. He... he's been my patient for several years now." He coughs nervously. "Can I ask why you were up here? The party was downstairs." You have a suspicion, and sure enough he confirms it with his next sentence. "I... I don't deal well with crowds. So many people in one spot, I... I asked if I could go upstairs for a moment. To hide in the library..." He blushes. "Reading calms me down", he adds. "Right... did you leave the library at any point?" "No", he says quietly. "But the girl... Perks, I think? She saw me." Right. That matches Perks' testimony. Not an alibi by any means, but still something worth remembering. With a non-premediated murder like this, it's unlikely for any testimony to be prepared in advance. Lies made up on the spot, or the truth... that's it. You'll keep that in mind as you proceed. [[Investigate the crime scene->checkcrimescene2]]

Deering points you towards a brown-haired man with a thin mustache. He's trying to stay calm, but he's trembling slightly. His suit is dark grey with a light grey tie. A plain, simple outfit, not really made for a party. Though really, the entire man does not seem to be made for a party. He looks stiff and serious in every conceivable way. It's downright impossible to imagine him doing anything other than paperwork or virtual paperwork. His right foot is encased in a thick cast, the leg of his suit rolled up to accommodate it. A metallic crutch is lying on the couch next to him. It looks heavy, but the man is rather buff. "You must be Mr. Fisher", you start and he nods. "Correct." "You found the body, correct? Please tell me how that went and what happened leading up to that." He gives a shaky nod. "Y-yes. I... I am... was... Mr. Sanders accountant. I had chosen to forgo the party in favour of working..." You raise a brow. "It seems to me that climbing a staircase with your damaged leg might be an issue." "I am used to it. My apartment is on the second floor, so I know how to climb stairs with my crutch. And I'd rather get work done than stand in a corner downstairs surrounded by drunk strangers." He pulls a face. "That's... not my idea of a good time." You imagine that this man's idea of a good time probably involves manila folders. "So you were working. What happened next?" "I had some slight trouble with some of the data, so I went to ask Mr... Mr. Sanders for clarification. He came to the office with me to look over my work to find the data needed.. However, my phone rang. I did not want to disturb him, so I left and went to the indoor garden instead to talk in peace... Tröger is not usually disturbed by such things. But when the call was over and I came back... all I found was..." He shudders and cuts himself off. "...Right", you say slowly. "Is it true that Professor Tröger was in the indoor garden when you entered?" "He was, yes. Admiring some rather strange-looking cactus." You nod. That matches Tröger's testimony. "May I see your phone?" He shows it to you without hesitation. Sure enough, there's a phone call that lasts almost one hour... right at the time of the murder. It seems that Fisher has a rather solid alibi. [[Continue Questioning->QuestionCorbin2]]

You go for the tall, serious-looking woman next. She's looking at her phone, typing swiftly, barely paying attention to you. Her suit is plum-colored with a black tie. Blonde hair, obviously dyed and coated in enoug hair spray to hold an elephant in place, frames a pointy face. A handbag, also black, is slung around her shoulders... actually, no. It's a laptop bag. Behind you, Deering speaks up: "I already asked you to put down your phone." The woman blinks, then looks up. She doesn't put down her phone. "Huh? Oh, right. I am Mrs. Hunter-Smith. Hello." "Mrs. Hunter-Smith", you repeat slowly. "That name sounds familiar." "I'm one of... I was one of Sanders' competitors", she informs you, glancing at her phone as she talks. Right. Hunter-Smith, that's another company for expensive machine parts. The relationship between these companies... you don't know the details. "He invited his rival to one of his parties?" She shrugs. "Rivals. Allies. Keeps changing. Right now, things are... not really going well, but we're working on it. I think he invited me in the hope that it would help the relationship between our companies if we got closer. He'd been talking of merging our companies. Many meetings between him and me, recently." "And your opinion of that?" She pulls a face. "I'm not a fan. Our way of working is... was very different." "I see. May I ask why you weren't down at the party?" "I'm a workaholic", she explains. "I can't just... not work for long. I get all twitchy and nervous. Work's my life." "I'd trust her on that", Deering whispers to you. "When we first got here, it took us almost ten minutes to get her attention." "So you were working? What on and where?" "Right here." She gestures to indicate the saloon. "I was writing mails." "May I see some proof of that?" "Sure. They're not that important." She shows you a few mails. Three, to be exact. The third one was sent after the murder, so you ignore it, but the other two... you immediately spy a problem: There is more than enough time for her to have killed Sanders: The second mail was send almost fourty minutes after the first one! Of course, it IS a very long mail. There are four attachments and the subject matter seems complicated. You only skim over the text, but it seems to contain several complicated calculations and references to other mails. It might have taken her 40 minutes to write it... but// might have// is not the same as //did//. You inform her that this isn't enough for an alibi and she nods. "The girl saw me in here, too. If that helps", she says, pointing at one of suspects you've yet to talk to. "Though she left the room a while before the murder occurred, so I don't think that's an alibi for me, either." You should talk to that girl anyway, just to make sure. [[Continue Questioning->QuestionPerks2]]

Deering was telling the truth: The office is a mess. The only things not toppled or broken are the large filing cabinets and the bookcase, though that one is missing several books - they are all over the floor. But. The chair's tipped over, the computer monitor has fallen off the desk. Also on the desk are a desk lamp, fallen over and a crumpled table calendar. Something that probably used to be on the desk, but is now shattered on the floor, is a pot with a white orchid in it. The printer's been kicked over and one of the windows is scratched. A black briefcase, next to the desk, has been knocked over. You take a closer look at it - the initials J.F. are engraved into it. It might be Fisher's briefcase. Next to the desk is a faint chalk outline on the floor... the spot where Mr. Sanders body was found. No blood, though that's to be expected with strangulation. "Have you found any fingerprints yet?", you ask. "We've found a lot of fingerprints, actually. The office only gets a proper, in-depth cleaning once a week and the last one was 5 days ago. Most of them belong to Mr. Sanders, of course. Some to Mr. Fisher, that's not unexpected. A few from Corbin and Tröger... also not unexpected, they've both been staying here for a few days already. A few of Hunter-Smith, who already stated that there were many meetings between her and Sanders recently... and some from Perks, who works here." "And Periwinkle wears gloves", you finish with a sigh. Why are there always either too many fingerprints or none? How are you supposed to get anything done like that? You go over the stuff lying around again. The monitor is broken beyond repair, so unfortunally you can't check what Fisher was working on. The briefcase contains complicated-looking files, a bottle of hand sanitizer, a wallet and a small bag of hard candy. A look into the wallet reveals that it is indeed Mr. Fisher's briefcase, and also that he uses the bus a lot. So many old tickets. You take a second to scoop the orchid's soil into a neater heap and put the flower itself upright so it doesn't get crushed further. Maybe Professor Tröger will want it once this whole mess is over, provided that he isn't in prison for murder by then. ...Mr. Sanders was not what you'd call a fit or healthy man. You've never met him in person, but the pictures you've seen in the news... he was rather frail, not very tall. You yourself could overpower him without a struggle. But there WAS a struggle, and a rather messy one at that. [[So, that means...->Interlude2]]

Given what you know now... investigating the crime scene any further won't help you, at least not right now. You could investigate some other rooms at random, but that could easily turn into a waste of time. No. Right now, your number one asset are the suspects. What was it you concluded earlier? Lies made up on the spot, or the truth. And lies made up on the spot won't match the claims of the other five people. So perhaps, if you continue to ask questions, you'll discover a few false answers. Or true ones. That also works. You return to the saloon and look over the various suspects gathered there. Before you start asking questions, you need a second to think. Mr. Fisher, as you've noticed earlier, is very buff. Broad shoulders and a narrow waist. It's interesting; he looks like he could benchpress you with ease, but he also looks like he spends 90% of his time at a desk. He would likely overpower Sanders in a second... or could if it weren't for his injured leg. You're not sure how much of an impact that would have, but fortunally he has a pretty solid alibi anyway. Tröger... Tröger is elderly and rather overweight, but he's taller than Sanders and the weight might actually give him an edge. You're pretty sure that a fight between Tröger and Sanders would end quickly. Too quickly to demolish an entire room. The others... Periwinkle looks like he could be defeated by a stray butterfly. Hunter-Smith is pretty tall, but her high-heeled shoes look like they would slow her down and she doesn't seem muscular at all. Corbin meanwhile isn't old, but not exactly young either and while her glare might be able to crush stone, the same cannot be said about her hands. And Perks... well, Perks is a chubby teenage girl. Those four. Sanders could put up a good struggle against them. [[Time to ask some questions!->Questionagain...]]

Now. Which one should you question now...? ''In moments like this you must keep in mind that, while some of these options will permit you to come back here and pick another one, not all of them do. Just going through them from the top in order to see them all is not an option. Choose carefully.'' [[Question Corbin further->questionCorbinfurther]] [[Question Fisher further->questionFisherfurther]] [[Question Perks further->questionPerksfurther]] [[Question Hunter-Smith further->questionHSfurther]] [[Question Tröger further->questionTrögerfurther]] [[Question Periwinkle further->questionPeriwinklefurther]]

Corbin sits with her legs crossed, her gaze piercing you as you step closer. "What is it now?" "I was hoping you'd be able to tell me a bit more about what you were doing at the time of the crime", you ask. She sighs. "I already told you what I was doing. I was changing my clothes and had a smoke. There is not much I can do to elaborate on that." She seems more agressive than earlier. Perhaps it is the lack of nicotine that is getting to her. "Did you perhaps notice anything odd while you were up here? Did you hear anything, see anyone?", you press further. The look you get in return is nothing short of exasperated. "If I had heard or seen something", she says slowly as if talking to a particularly stupid toddler, "I would have //told// you about it when you first questioned me." "Madame Corbin, we must ask you to please be respectful", Deering states. Corbin glances at her. "I see nothing disrespectful about stating facts", she says coldly. "And fact is that I already answered this particular question. Come back when you have something new to say." With that, she leans back. Seems you won't be getting anything out of her right now. ...But. From the corner of your eye, you notice two interesting things. One: Ms. Perks, who is sitting in the opposite corner of the room, is glaring at Madame Corbin with an expression of genuine anger on her face. Two: Mrs. Hunter-Smith is looking over as well, though she seems to be concentrating on you. Hunter-Smith averts her eyes when she realizes that you have noticed her. Perks either doesn't care or doesn't notice, because she just keeps glaring. Perhaps you ought to have a word with them... [[Question Hunter-Smith next->questionHSnext]] [[Question Perks next->questionPerksnext]]

You step up to Mr. Fisher again. "Mr. Fisher, I have a few more questions to you", you say. He nods. "Which would be?" "What state was the office in when you left it?" He shrugs. "Neat. Clean. The way is is supposed to be, not the mess that it is right now." Right. "And when you returned, what was your first reaction?" "I blacked out", he admits quietly. "Only for a moment. When I came back to my senses, I called the police immediately." "Right. Did you touch anything when that happened?" "No. Only the door." "And do you remember what you touched before you left?" "Before I... I'm sorry, but I was working. I don't normally pay attention to things like that." He stretches and grimaces when his motion puts some strain on his leg. "And nobody else entered the office while you were in it?" "Nobody except Mr. Sanders, no." Right. You're not certain how useful that was, to be honest... [[Maybe you should talk to someone else->Questionagain...]]

Somehow, Perks has managed to increase the distance between herself and Madame Corbin even further. It's quite impressive, really, though you do notice that Corbin is doing her part as well: The two women are essentially standing in the very corners of the room, with as much space between them as is possible. "Are you really that sensitive to cigarette smoke?" "You have no idea", she groans, rolling her eyes. "My throat is still sore from earlier." You raise a brow. "Earlier?" "Yeah, when I was on my way to the library. Entire hallway smelled like smoke, it was just //disgusting//. Just barely managed to reach the library without choking. She must have smoked in her room." She pulls a face. "She doesn't normally do that." "She doesn't normally do that?", you repeat. That is interesting. "Yeah, normally she only smokes on the balcony." ...That IS interesting. If she normally smokes on the balcony, then why did she not do that today? You look over at Corbin again. She is clearly actively trying to stay away from Perks to avoid triggering her asthma, so she is both aware of Perks' issue and respectful of it. Yet if what Perks says is true, then Corbin has put her at risk earlier today. You DID notice that the hallway smelled of smoke when you went to examine the crime scene. So Perks is not lying about that. But is the source of this smell truly Corbin's room? It certainly sounds likely. "Has this ever happened before?", you ask. She shakes her head. "Don't think so." Perhaps you might want to have a look at Madame Corbin's room. Though first, you'll ask Dr. Periwinkle what he thinks about her testimony. A doctor should be able to recognize when someone is struggling to breathe, after all. [[Question Periwinkle further->QuestionPeriwinklefurther2]]

Hunter-Smith has set up her laptop and is doing something involving a blueprint. You have to say her name three times before she notices you. "Sorry. How can I help you?" "Earlier, you told me that Mr. Sanders intended to merge your companies. You were opposed to it. Could you tell me more about that?" "I don't know how he came up with it", she says. "But he's been obsessed with that idea recently. I think it might be because his company is struggling a bit right now. Not much, mind you. But his profits are going down. Mine are going up." "Is that why you were opposed to it? Because your company is doing well on its own?" "Well, yes. That, too. But as I said, our ways of working are very different." "Can you elaborate on that?", you ask. She nods and you realize she's still typing, without looking at the screen. "The main issue is that Sanders was traditional while I always enjoyed trying new things. Furthermore, I'm somebody who takes care of things in person. Sanders delegated a lot. There was really no way for us to lead the merged company as equals without clashing." You nod slowly. "How was Mr. Sanders planning to deal with these issues." She smiles. There is no humor in it. "One idea of his was for him to lead the company and for me to be the second-in-command. Obviously that was not acceptable. Since then, he hasn't given me any proper solution. I have told him multiple times to either present a proper solution that enables us to lead the company as equals or to stop bothering me with this inane plan." "I assume he hasn't done either?", you ask drily. She nods. "Unfortunally. Even today, he's bothered me about it. I think it's the only reason he invited me." She looks completely done with Sanders. "How did you react?" "I shut it down immediately. I have work to do." Sure enough, her fingers have not left the keyboard even once. [[Perhaps some other people know more about this merger...]]

You take Professor Tröger aside for another chat. "So", you begin as you take him aside, "Mr. Sanders was interested in rare plants?" "Very much so", he confirms. "He and I first met when he outbid me over a truly beautiful Adansonii Variegata. I am not poor by any means, but Ben, well, he could afford plants that I do not dare to dream of. He sometimes gifted me cuttings of plants I would never have gotten otherwise..." He smiles sadly. "I never understood a word about his job. All that talk of machinery and technology, he might as well have been talking chinese. But when it came to botany, we were equals." Personally, you can barely tell the difference between tulips and sunflowers. The reverence with which this man pronounces latin names makes no sense to you. But who are you to judge other people's hobbies? "That sounds like his collection is very impressive." "Oh, it is. I do wonder what will happen to them now that... that he is gone." His smile brightens a little, though it is still far from happy, and he adds: "Mind you, I do hope that he left it to me. It is certainly possible and I would love to take care of it for him. He would have done the same for me." For a few seconds, you find yourself seriously considering if wanting to inherit a plant collection is a valid motive for murder. But you discard that thought quickly. Partly because it sounds absurd, partly because Professor Tröger was seen in the indoor garden by Fisher and their testimony matches. So you can probably ditch that idea. [[Maybe you should talk to someone else->Questionagain...]]

Dr. Periwinkle has not calmed down one bit: He looks just as tense and nervous as when you first met him. You give him a smile, but it does nothing to comfort him. "C-can I help you?", he asks. "You stated that Ms. Perks entered the library while you were in there. Can you please describe the scene in more detail?" "Well", he starts slowly, "I was reading a fantasy novel at that time and it was pretty captivating. So... so when the door opened, I didn't really pay attention to it at first." "At first?" He nods. "I did look up once I'd finished the page. Then I did look up and saw Ms. Perks. She was dragging a vacuum cleaner behind herself and carrying a feather duster. She also looked rather out of breath." "...Out of breath", you repeat. "Interesting. Can you tell me more?" "She took a few seconds to catch her breath before noticing me. Then she greeted me and went to work, dusting the shelves. By that point, her breathing had normalized, so I didn't... uh, well, I didn't press the issue any further." "Are you aware of Ms. Perks asthma?" "Yes, of course. She's been working for Mr. Sanders for a while and I have met her multiple times." You raise a brow. "And yet, when you saw an asthmatic out of breath, you just observed and didn't get up to help? Is this your general attitude towards your job?" Behind you, Deering makes an alarmed noise, sucking in air through her teeth. But you cannot focus on that. No, your attention is taken up completely by Dr. Periwinkle. The //second// those words left your mouth, he sat up straight. He looks much taller like this and his expression, which was anxious and sheepish only seconds ago, is now calm and serious. It feels like you are looking at a completely different person. "My medical knowledge", he says sternly, "most likely exceeds yours by quite a bit, wouldn't you agree? Or does becoming a detective require four years of medical school nowadays?" He raises a brow, waiting for an anwer. When he doesn't get one - you aren't sure what to say - he continues: "No? Then surely you will also agree that I am more qualified that you when it comes to judging whether or not a person is having an asthma attack. Ms. Perks was struggling to breathe when she came in, yes. She was handling it well, she did not reach for her inhaler, she did not in any way ask me for help or assistance, she could speak without issues and her breathing normalized quickly. Given all that, I saw no reason to take action. Do you consider this an unreasonable conclusion?" You shake your head and Periwinkle nods, satisfied. Then, with a slight blush, he hunches over again and smiles nervously. "S-sorry", he mumbles. "I, uh, I've been told that I'm less, uh, more serious when I'm in work mode." Right. That's a bit of an understatement. But you will let it be for now. Instead, you ought to ask Perks if what Periwinkle is saying is correct - and if so, why she was out of breath to begin with. [[Question Perks further->QuestionPerksfurther2]]

Somehow, Perks has managed to increase the distance between herself and Madame Corbin even further. It's quite impressive, really, though you do notice that Corbin is doing her part as well: The two women are essentially standing in the very corners of the room, with as much space between them as is possible. "Ms. Perks", you start. "I just talked to Dr. Periwinkle and I was wondering if you could help me out. Did anything of interest happen while you were on your way to the library?" She pulls a face. "Ugh, don't remind me. My throat is still all sore." Oh? "Why is that?" She shrugs. "I blame Corbin. When I left the saloon, the entire hallway smelled like smoke. It was absolutely //disgusting//! I just barely managed to reach the library without choking." She shudders in disgust. "I think she smoked in her room. She doesn't normally do that." "She doesn't normally do that?", you repeat. First of all, her testimony does back up Periwinkle's words... but this right here strikes you as interesting. "Normally she only smokes on the balcony", Perks confirms. ...That IS interesting. If she normally smokes on the balcony, then why did she not do that today? You look over at Corbin again. She is clearly actively trying to stay away from Perks to avoid triggering her asthma, so she is both aware of Perks' issue and respectful of it. Yet if what Perks says is true, then Corbin has put her at risk earlier today. You DID notice that the hallway smelled of smoke when you went to examine the crime scene. So Perks is not lying about that. But is the source of this smell truly Corbin's room? It certainly sounds likely. You will have to take a look at it to be certain. [[Investigate Corbin's room->Corbin'sRoom2]]

Periwinkle looks up at you when you approach him again. You notice that he looks no less tense and nervous than when you first met him. The others have calmed down a bit since then, but he is still trembling. "Dr. Periwinkle", you say. "I was hoping you'd be able to tell me a little more about Ms. Perks. To be more precise, about the moment she entered the library." "Well", he starts slowly, "I... yes, I was concentrating on the book I was reading, so it took me a second to react when I heard the door open." You nod, gesturing for him to go on. "When I did look up, I saw Ms. Perks. She had a vacuum cleaner and... uh, a feather duster, I think? She seemed to be out of breath, too." That was what you were waiting for. "Out of breath. Please tell me more about that." "Uhm... she didn't notice me at first. She was too busy to catch her breath. But when she did notice me, she greeted me and then went to dust the shelves. She was breathing fine by then, so... I didn't press the issue any further." This does match Perks' testimony very well and technically, you ought to end it here. But there is one thing that catches your attention and not in a good way. "Dr. Periwinkle. Are you aware of Ms. Perks asthma? If so, why did you choose not to press the issue any further?" He smiles nervously. "She was handling it well, she did not reach for her inhaler, she did not in any way ask me for help or assistance, she could speak without issues and her breathing normalized quickly. Given all that, I saw no reason to take action." She did say that she 'barely managed to reach the library before choking'. So she didn't actually have an asthma attack, only came close to having one. Given that, his decision not to act was probably a reasonable one. But, his testimony does back up hers. In that case, your next course of action ought to be to find the source of the smoke. [[Investigate Corbin's room->Corbin'sRoom2]]

You open the door to Madame Corbin's room and walk straight into a wall. Or at least that is what it feels like. You had no idea that air could be this solid. But that's the thing, there is no air in this room. You can almost see the tendrils of smoke that fill the entire room. Your lungs surrender immediately. A coughing fit takes you and you double over while Deering, who is more used to cigarette smoke than you are, rushes in to open the windows. There is no doubt: Somebody has smoked in this room. For three entire days. Non-stop. There is more nicotine in here than in five truckloads of tobacco. And now it's in your lungs. Great. When you're eventually capable of breathing again, you take a look around. The room looks nothing like the rest of the mansion. Instead of bright wood and soft greys, this room's furniture is pitch black. There is a huge canopy bed with an elegant metal frame, a very elegant dressing table and a mannequin with an olive green dress - with a large, crimson stain on it. On one wall, you can see the largest mirror you've ever seen - it takes up almost the entire wall. Even the carpet doesn't fit what you've seen outside; not grey or white, but jade green. A large, black wardrobe, no doubt full of expensive clothes, towers over you. There is a handbag hung on the handle. This is clearly not just a guest room, but a guest room designed specifically for Madame Corbin. There are a bunch of things here that might deserve your attention. What should you look at first? [[Investigate the handbag->Handbag]] [[Investigate the dresser->Dresser]] [[Investigate the dress->Dress]] [[Investigate the wardrobe->Wardrobe]] [[Investigate the bed->Bed]]

When you approach Perks, you realize that she has managed to increase the distance between herself and Madame Corbin even further. It's quite impressive, really, though you do notice that Corbin is doing her part as well: The two women are essentially standing in the very corners of the room, with as much space between them as is possible. "Ms. Perks. Are you upset?", you ask, cutting straight to the chase. "Is there a problem regarding Madame Corbin?" Perks blinks and pulls a face. "...Ugh", she mumbles. "Sorry. Didn't think it would be that obvious. Just, she's normally not that inconsiderate." "Could you elaborate on that?", you ask and she sighs. "Earlier today, when I was on my way from the saloon to the library", she explains, "the entire hallway smelled like smoke. Cigarette smoke. And I'm 100% convinced it's her. I barely managed to reach the library without choking!" She looks furious. You cannot blame her. Asthma must be extremely unpleasant. Even you struggle when you're standing next to Madame Corbin and your lungs work just fine. "But she is normally not that inconsiderate", you repeat slowly. "So..." "She usually only smokes on the balcony", Perks confirms. "But this time, she must have done it in her room. The nerve of that woman!" Odd. If she normally smokes on the balcony, then why did she not do that today? You look over at Corbin again. She is clearly actively trying to stay away from Perks to avoid triggering her asthma, so she is both aware of Perks' issue and respectful of it. Yet if what Perks says is true, then Corbin has put her at risk earlier today. You DID notice that the hallway smelled of smoke when you went to examine the crime scene. So Perks is not lying about that. But is the source of this smell truly Corbin's room? It certainly sounds likely. Perhaps you might want to have a look at Madame Corbin's room. Though first, you'll ask Dr. Periwinkle what he thinks about Perks' testimony. He was in the library, and a doctor should be able to recognize when someone is struggling to breathe, after all. [[Question Periwinkle further->QuestionPeriwinklefurther2]]

Hunter-Smith has set up her laptop and is pretending not to notice you, but you know she did. So you keep pushing until she gives in and acknowledges your existence. "...How can I help you?" "I noticed you were glaring at me", you say, cutting right to the chase. "Is there a reason for that?" She shrugs. "I was hoping you would question me next", she explains. "I'd like to be able to focus on my work." ...Yeah, somehow you doubt that that is it. But you'll go with it for now. "Very well. I was in fact hoping to ask you a few things. Earlier, you told me that Mr. Sanders intended to merge your companies. You were opposed to it. Could you tell me more about that?" "I don't know how he came up with it", she says. "But he's been obsessed with that idea recently. I think it might be because his company is struggling a bit right now. Not much, mind you. But his profits are going down. Mine are going up." "Is that why you were opposed to it? Because your company is doing well on its own?" "Well, yes. That, too. But as I said, our ways of working are very different." "Can you elaborate on that?", you ask. She nods and you realize she's still typing, without looking at the screen. "The main issue is that Sanders was traditional while I always enjoyed trying new things. Furthermore, I'm somebody who takes care of things in person. Sanders delegated a lot. There was really no way for us to lead the merged company as equals without clashing." You nod slowly. "How was Mr. Sanders planning to deal with these issues." She smiles. There is no humor in it. "One idea of his was for him to lead the company and for me to be the second-in-command. Obviously that was not acceptable. Since then, he hasn't given me any proper solution. I have told him multiple times to either present a proper solution that enables us to lead the company as equals or to stop bothering me with this inane plan." "I assume he hasn't done either?", you ask drily. She nods. "Unfortunally. Even today, he's bothered me about it. I think it's the only reason he invited me." She looks completely done with Sanders. "How did you react?" "I shut it down immediately. I have work to do." Sure enough, her fingers have not left the keyboard even once." [[Perhaps some other people know more about this merger...]]

The dresser is covered in various objects: A comb, a hairbrush, a pair of pliers. Some jewelery like a ring and two bracelets, plus two jewelery boxes - one empty, one containing a gorgeous emerald necklace. And a box of cigarettes. Naturally. You open the drawers. Some make-up and several bottles of nail polish in varying shades. You also find a few fashion magazines. When you open one up, you find that several pages have been marked with small stripes of colored paper and some pictures are circled. There are also some notes, largely about color and material. One particular dress is crossed out and the notes next to it rant about how tacky the fur trim is. Corbin, it seems, has opinions on the fashion world. You suppose it is a part of her job. [[What else is there...->whatelse]]

You open the wardrobe to find a variety of dresses and shoes. That isn't exactly unexpected, to be honest. It all seems to be of a very high quality, not that you're an expert on designer clothes. Still, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that a dress with real diamonds for buttons is worth a lot. Has Corbin designed these dresses herself? A nice selection of stockings, a few coats, a soft bathrobe. A suit in the back, black and elegant. A long nightgown. Then some plainer clothes: Jeans, shirts and sweaters. You struggle to imagine Corbin wearing these. There is a box stored away in the back. You open it to reveal several pairs of gloves and two thin cloth scarves. Hidden underneath, however, is another, smaller box. You open it. Deering gasps. You, meanwhile, need a second to recognize what you are looking at. Your first thought is that it is some kind of jewelery, a set of gemstones perhaps. It would match the rest of her belongings. But then, it hits you: The small bag full of crystals you are looking at has absolutely nothing to do with fashion. No. What you are looking at here is methamphetamine... also known as crystal meth. It seems that nicotine is not Madame Corbin's only vice. Deering looks at you. You don't say anything, but you don't have to. You both know that this stuff is extremely illegal. Murderer or not - Corbin is in trouble. But you aren't here for a drug raid. You're here to solve a murder. So the question you need to ask is: Is this at all related to Mr. Sanders' death? You could, of course, ask Corbin directly. But an alternative would be to ask Professor Tröger. He is a friend of hers - perhaps he knew about this particular vice. [[Talk to Professor Tröger->talktoTröger2]] [[Talk to Madame Corbin->talktoCorbin2]]

At first glance, the stain on the olive-colored dress appears to be blood. But as you look closer, you realize it is merely wine. The smell of smoke that still fills the room masks the wine's smell completely. This must be the dress Corbin was wearing originally, before somebody spilled wine on it. So that at least was not a lie. The dress itself looks very delicate. It probably needs to be cleaned by a professional, which would explain why she placed it on the mannequin instead of tossing it aside as dirty laundry. You wonder if Corbin designed this dress herself. Upon closer inspection, you realize that it has pockets. They aren't deep, but there is something inside them. One quick look and... ...Ah. Cigarettes. What did you expect? [[What else is there...->whatelse]]

The soft silk sheets and the stiff, unyielding metal frame are an interesting combination. On one hand, the bed looks warm and inviting... but on the other hand, it looks hard and uncomfortable. It is elegant, but also cold. Much like the person who sleeps in it. It is freshly made. You check under the bed and under the pillow, but there is nothing to be found there. There is a book on the bedside table. You check it and find that it is a book about fabric types. A bookmark made from a large feather marks the chapter about the properties of velvet. The bedside table itself contains another, smaller book about color theory, a phone charger and a sketchbook filled with scribbles of dresses and suits. One of the suits is drawn more detailed than the others. The words "For Richard?" are written next to them in elegant cursive. Unfortunally, there's not much you can do with this information, unless you want to tell Tröger about the gift he might soon receive. [[What else is there...->whatelse]]

Her handbag is dark green with a silver clasp shaped like a leaf. You cannot see a brand logo anywhere, but you don't doubt that it was expensive. Inside, you find a wallet, a lighter, tissues, a small bottle of hand sanitizer, a pen, a tube of hand lotion and of course a box of cigarettes. Nothing unexpected and nothing worth bothering with. [[What else is there...->whatelse]]

There are still other things that deserve a closer look. What should you tackle next? [[Investigate the handbag->Handbag]] [[Investigate the dresser->Dresser]] [[Investigate the dress->Dress]] [[Investigate the wardrobe->Wardrobe]] [[Investigate the bed->Bed]]

You take Tröger aside and ask to speak with him in private. He agrees and follows you out into the hallway. Once the door is closed and you, Deering and Tröger are alone, you take the bag of meth out of your pocket. His expression crumbles instantly. There is no surprise or confusion on his face, only sorrow. "Ah", he says, his voice empty. "I see." "You were aware of it, then", you say. It is a stupid question. But Tröger answers it anyway. "Yes. I think me and Ben were the only people who knew", he admits. "I... I have certainly never used anything illegal, but I have had times in my life where I... drank to excess. I had my reasons. I assume that she has her reasons, too. I do not like it, but...", he shrugs, "who am I to judge? I offer support, but I am not going to force her to do anything." "You do not know her reasons? Do you have any suspicions?" He shakes his head. "I asked and she did not tell me. I accepted that. Perhaps it is related to work, perhaps it is a private matter, perhaps it involves her health. I do not know. And I respect her too much to guess." It visibly pains him to talk about it. Knowing that one of your friend is addicted to such a destructive drug... it must be awful. But unfortunally, you need to continue questioning him. "Mr. Sanders knew about it, too. How did he feel about it?" Tröger's expression darkens. "He was... how do I put this? Less understanding than me. I struggled with alcohol once, so I know what it feels like to be held down by an addiction. Ben, he never experienced anything like it. He disapproved heavily. Yvette knew that, too. The topic did not come up often, but when Ben mentioned it... Yvette always got upset. I could talk about it as much as I wanted and she never minded, but the second Ben spoke one word about it..." He cuts himself off and shakes his head. "I personally do not think he meant to hurt her. He just... could not understand. It was the... what is the expression? The elephant in the room. Is that right?" "Yeah", Deering mumbles. Sanders' disapproval is understandable, but it certainly would have strained the friendship between him and Corbin. Strained enough for murder, though? That would be a very weak motive. Perhaps Corbin herself can shed some light on it. [[Talk to Corbin->talktoCorbin2.2]]

You take Corbin aside and ask to speak with her in private. She agrees, though she doesn't seem happy about it. You end up baiting her with a cigarette and take her out to the balcony. The second she takes the first deep breath of nicotine, she visibly relaxes. You decide to wait until she has finished her smoke before you pull out the small bag of meth. Of course, once she sees it, she tenses up instantly. "...Right", she mutters, staring down at your hand and nervously tugging on her feather boa. "Guess I should have expected that." Followed by a dry laugh that contains no humor whatsoever. "Madame Corbin", you say, "do you have anything to say about this?" She scoffs. "What is there to say? //Oh no, detective, that's just candy?// I am neither that desperate nor that foolish." "Was Mr. Sanders aware of this habit of yours?", you ask, ignoring her taunting. She glares at you for a few seconds before answering. "Ben and Richard knew. Richard understood. Ben? Absolutely// didn't.//" That last word is hissed with more fury than it should deserve. "So he did not approve of it?" "...He did not", she confirms, not looking you in the eye. "It was the one topic we always avoided. He got //nasty// about it." Another hiss there. You get the feeling that there is something bigger here. Something more than just a spat between friends. "What exactly do you mean by that?" She groans. "You really are going to make me say this?! He insulted me about it, alright? He hated that I took it! He always said he was doing it for my own good, to help me quit, but", she laughs again, "we both knew that wasn't true! We both knew he didn't want me to quit!" Then her eyes widen. "...You did not hear that!", she quickly adds. But you did hear it and you'd love to hear more. "I'm afraid I did, Madame Corbin." She remains quiet. Then, with clearly fake sigh, she turns around. "Well", she announces to nobody in particular, "this was a lovely chat, but I believe it is over now." You try to press and prod, but she remains silent. Finally, you give up and lead her back into the saloon to the others. Perhaps Tröger will be more cooperative. [[Talk to Tröger->talktoTröger2.2]]

You take Corbin aside and ask to speak with her in private. She agrees, though she doesn't seem happy about it. You end up baiting her with a cigarette and take her out to the balcony. The second she takes the first deep breath of nicotine, she visibly relaxes. You decide to wait until she has finished her smoke before you pull out the small bag of meth. Of course, once she sees it, she tenses up instantly. "...Right", she mutters, staring down at your hand and nervously tugging on her feather boa. "Guess I should have expected that." Followed by a dry laugh that contains no humor whatsoever. "Madame Corbin", you say, "do you have anything to say about this?" She scoffs. "What is there to say? //Oh no, detective, that's just candy?// I am neither that desperate nor that foolish." "Was Mr. Sanders aware of this habit of yours?", you ask, ignoring her taunting. She glares at you for a few seconds before answering. "Ben and Richard knew. Richard understood. Ben? Absolutely// didn't.//" That last word is hissed with more fury than it should deserve. "So he did not approve of it?" "...He did not", she confirms, not looking you in the eye. "It was the one topic we always avoided. He got //nasty// about it." Another hiss there. You get the feeling that there is something bigger here. Something more than just a spat between friends. "What exactly do you mean by that?" She groans. "You really are going to make me say this?! He insulted me about it, alright? He hated that I took it! He always said he was doing it for my own good, to help me quit, but", she laughs again, "we both knew that wasn't true! We both knew he didn't want me to quit!" Then her eyes widen. "...You did not hear that!", she quickly adds. But you did hear it and you'd love to hear more. "I'm afraid I did, Madame Corbin." She remains quiet. Then, with clearly fake sigh, she turns around. "Well", she announces to nobody in particular, "this was a lovely chat, but I believe it is over now." You try to press and prod, but she remains silent. Finally, you give up and lead her back into the saloon to the others. You've questioned and pressed, but no result yet. You have theories, but none of them have enough to support them. For now, it might be a good idea to explore a few more rooms. [[Check the Balcony->checkBalcony]] [[Check Sanders' bedroom->SandersBedroom2]] [[Check Indoor Garden->indoorgarden2]]

Sanders' bedroom is enourmous, but there's very little in it. A large bed, of course, a wardrobe, a dressing table and a small couch. Some storage. But one could easily fit twice as much furniture in there without any trouble. Everything is beige, cream-colored or light brown. That, plus the large windows, makes the room extremely bright, which in turn makes it seem even more empty. There isn't much decoration or, for that matter, much to suggest that this room gets used. A small computer is placed on the couch table, but it looks dusty and old, not like something that is used at all. An empty glass is placed on the bedside table, the only thing on it. One thing that does catch your attention is the extremely elaborate desk clock on the dresser - it is made from wood, covered with swirls and decorative carvings, and it appears to be broken - the second hand isn't moving an inch. The wood is also fairly dark, a stark contrast to the bright shades that fill the rest of the room. As you step closer, you notice that the drawer is slightly open. You slide it open, just to check. There isn't much inside. A box of tissues, a comb, a small bottle of aftershave. And an envelope. You pick up the envelope. It isn't sealed and there is nothing written on it. No stamp, either.At first glance, it looks unused... but there is something inside. [[Check the envelope->checkenvelope]]

The balcony isn't too big and there is no furniture of any kind decorating it. The only thing you see is a fairly large ashtray made from green glass. It has been heavily used and is overflowing with ash and cigarette butts. This must be where Corbin comes to smoke. Usually, that is. Only now do you realize that you never asked her about smoking in her room. In your defense, finding highly illegal drugs in somebody's wardrobe is slightly distracting. Anyway. The balcony offers a good view of the street below. Not that there is much to see on said street. A few cars, a few pedestrians. A woman walking her dog. Not the greatest view, but that is something Sanders had precious little control over. However, it seems that you won't find anything of value here. [[Where else to look...->whereelse]]

You take Tröger aside and ask to speak with him in private. He agrees and follows you out into the hallway. Once the door is closed and you, Deering and Tröger are alone, you take the bag of meth out of your pocket. His expression crumbles instantly. There is no surprise or confusion on his face, only sorrow. Just as expected. After all, Corbin already told you that he knew. "Ah", he says, his voice empty. "I see." "You were aware of it, then", you say. It is a stupid question. But Tröger answers it anyway. "Yes. I think me and Ben were the only people who knew", he admits. "I... I have certainly never used anything illegal, but I have had times in my life where I... drank to excess. I had my reasons. I assume that she has her reasons, too. I do not like it, but...", he shrugs, "who am I to judge? I offer support, but I am not going to force her to do anything." "You do not know her reasons? Do you have any suspicions?" He shakes his head. "I asked and she did not tell me. I accepted that. Perhaps it is related to work, perhaps it is a private matter, perhaps it involves her health. I do not know. And I respect her too much to guess." It visibly pains him to talk about it. Knowing that one of your friend is addicted to such a destructive drug... it must be awful. But unfortunally, you need to continue questioning him. "Mr. Sanders knew about it, too. How did he feel about it?" Tröger's expression darkens. "He was... how do I put this? Less understanding than me. I struggled with alcohol once, so I know what it feels like to be held down by an addiction. Ben, he never experienced anything like it. He disapproved heavily. Yvette knew that, too. The topic did not come up often, but when Ben mentioned it... Yvette always got upset. I could talk about it as much as I wanted and she never minded, but the second Ben spoke one word about it..." He cuts himself off and shakes his head. "I personally do not think he meant to hurt her. He just... could not understand. It was the... what is the expression? The elephant in the room. Is that right?" "Yeah", Deering mumbles. Everything he says matches Corbin's claims. But unfortunally, it still isn't all that useful. Though you have theories, you don't have enough evidence to support them. For now, it might be a good idea to explore a few more rooms. [[Check the Balcony->checkBalcony]] [[Check Sanders' bedroom->SandersBedroom2]] [[Check Indoor Garden->indoorgarden2]]

Where else could you look? [[Check the Balcony->checkBalcony]] [[Check Sanders' bedroom->SandersBedroom2]] [[Check Indoor Garden->indoorgarden2]]

You reach into the envelope. When you withdraw your hand, it is full of bills. Not dollar bills - these are pinkish-purple. Euro bills. Worth 500 Euro each. You count them quickly and find that you are holding 20,000 Euro in your hand. Odd. Why keep such an amount in bills, foreign bills at that? You hold one of the bills up to check if it is real. You're no expert on forged bills, especially not Euro, but they certainly look real. As you lower your hand again, the faint smell of nicotine hits you. You pause, then sniff the money. Yes, they all smell like that. You can think of only one person who fits the, heh, //bill// and that person must have handled them fairly recently if they still smell this strongly even now. In fact, you'd be willing to bet that Mr. Sanders only received this money today. And suddenly, you have an idea. [[Have another look at the crime scene->crimescene2]]

You return to the messy office. But you don't return empty-handed. You bring the small computer monitor you found in Sanders' bedroom. While Deering goes to ask Fisher for the password, you disconnect the broken monitor and connect the new one to the computer. When you power it on, the screen flickers to life! At that point, all you have to do is wait a moment for Deering to return. Sure enough, Fisher knew the password and you can take a look at Mr. Sanders' computer without issues. The desktop is just as tidy as the man's room. You probably don't need to bother with anything business-related, not that you'd understand it anyway. But there are still some things that catch your eye. [[Look at his pictures]] [[Look at his mails]] [[Look at his schedule]]

You open his mail program and take a quick glance at the mails received and sent today. There is one that catches your eye because it looks familiar. ...You groan as you realize it. That mail? It was sent by Hunter-Smith. Closer inspection shows that it was sent after the murder. Right. This must be the third mail she sent. You read through it. It is a fairly dry mail, apparently part of an ongoing conversation about their merger. She has sent him multiple documents about past projects. You could just slap yourself for not realizing this earlier - all you looked at when looking at Hunter-Smith's mails was the time stamp. But in your defense, who sends an e-mail to somebody who is only a few rooms away?! You check the other mails, too, but find nothing of interest. [[Look at his schedule->schedule2]]

There are a lot of pictures, but most of them are either of plants or show mechanical objects and blueprints. There are a few pictures from other parties, a selfie of Sanders, Tröger and Corbin, a picture of a weasel, another selfie of Corbin wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat and a few snapshots of Tröger looking at a large plant with impressive flowers. You go through these pictures, but you cannot find anything of importance. [[Look at his schedule]] [[Look at his mails]]

His schedule is extremely full. You spy a few familiar names. "Meeting with Hunter-Smith re. merger" is penciled in for next tuesday and "Perks Birthday" is apparently on the 26th. Today? There's a note about the party, which isn't unexpected. But there is another note: Corbin Payment. That does support your suspicions... [[Look at his mails->checkmails2]]

You let your eyes sweep over the group of people. They're all gathered together - 6 people, but only one of them is responsible for Sander's death. Corbin is sitting off to the side, glaring at you - she knows she's in trouble, no matter what happens now. Tröger is looking rather sad, staring down at his hands. In the corner, Perks is still looking rather annoyed about Corbin's decision to smoke inside. Hunter-Smith is holding her phone, but not using it. She doesn't look happy about it, but she seems to be resisting the desire to work for now. Periwinkle is curled up, trying to look as harmless and unsuspicious as possible - you almost expect a halo to pop up over his head. Finally, Fisher isn't showing any emotions except for the way he clutches his crutch just a bit too tightly. You clear your throat and everybody's eyes turn towards you. "One of you", you begin, "has killed a man tonight. Given what I have seen and heard here... there can be no doubt. The killer can only be..." [[Dr. Periwinkle!->AccusePeriwinkle2.1]] [[Madame Corbin!->AccuseCorbin2.1]] [[Mrs. Hunter-Smith!->Accuse Hunter-Smith2.1]] [[Professor Tröger!->AccuseTröger2.1]] [[Ms. Perks!->AccusePerks2.1]] [[Mr. Fisher!->AccuseFisher2.1]] [[Somebody else!->AccuseOther2.1]]

Periwinkle's eyes widen in shock. His mouth opens and closes, unable to form words. Then, finally, he manages: "B-but... but I didn't do it! I was reading, I promise! I never even left the library!" "Did you now? Is there anyone who can confirm that?" "Perks can, remember?" That was Deering. "She saw him. And their testimony matches perfectly." "They may have collaborated", you point out. "For a murder that wasn't premeditated? Unlikely. Besides, what would either one of them gain from this?" ...Good question. [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation2.1]]

Corbin's face shows surprise... but only for a second. Then she sighs, throws a wistful glance at Perks and smirks at you. "I hate to disappoint you, but the only thing I'll be killing today is your track record. You must have forgotten that I was in my room, changing my dress." You smirk. "Indeed. And after that, you had a smoke. May I ask, Madame Corbin... why did you chose to smoke in your room, knowing that there was a person with asthma around?" A flicker of shock goes over her face. She didn't even realize. "You must have been very distracted to commit such a blunder", you continue. "After all, you normally take care not to trouble Ms. Perks. But today, you were extremely tense." "Was I? News to me", she says, but she looks nervous. "Oh, you were. Partly because of this." You brandish the small bag of meth. There is a shocked gasp from Periwinkle and a sad sigh from Tröger, who gently puts his hand on Corbin's shoulder. "...Is that what I think it is?", Fisher asks and Corbin glares at him. "And what if it is?!", she spits and turns back to you. "What about it?! So I was tense and I'm a meth addict. That proves that I am a murderer how exactly?" "...She is right", Tröger says, his hand still in place. "That proves nothing." "True", you admit. "That alone isn't proof of anything. But it is part of her motive. Tell me, Madame Corbin... how long has Mr. Sanders been blackmailing you? "He... what?!", asks Perks and Hunter-Smith stares at you. Tröger's eyes widen and he looks at Corbin in shock. "No. No, he did not... Yvette, what is he..." "...Six years", Corbin whispers, barely audible. Her hands are trembling. "Six. Years. Money every three months or he would have told everyone about it." "...And that would have ruined your reputation, not to mention the legal trouble." A clever game, though not a kind one. "20,000 Euro, correct?" "Correct", she confirms, staring at her feet. "That... oh mein Gott, Yvette, I am... I had no idea...", Tröger mumbles. She shakes her head. "Neither your fault nor your problem, Richard", she says sadly. "...What a prick", Hunter-Smith states. "Now I really am glad I didn't agree to work closer with him!" You nod. "Yes, Mr. Sanders actions are hardly condonable. And for you, Madame Corbin, it was a constant source of stress and fear. Earlier today, you paid Sanders off again, as you do every three months. The act of doing so left you angry and upset." Corbin frowns, but says nothing. "You knew that you were stuck, that this blackmailing would continue and that you had no way to get away from Sanders without having him spill your secret. At this point, your emotions took over. You went to search for Mr. Sanders and found him in the office, where you attacked him. There was a brief struggle, but you had taken him by surprise and in the end, you were victorious... a victory that meant death for your opponent.. Once you realized what you had done, you returned to your room and pretended that nothing had happened. To calm yourself down, you lit a cigarette... however, due to your situation, you forgot all about Perks and thus smoked inside of your room instead of using the balcony like you normally do." Perks mumbles something and glances at Corbin. Corbin, meanwhile, is shaking. But she isn't ready to surrender with. "What about the murder weapon?", she argues. "Where is that?! Or are you implying that I choked him with my bare hands?!" "Yeah", Deering asks, "where is the murder weapon?" You smile. "In plain sight. She is wearing it around her neck." Corbin's hand shoots up, her fingers tightening... around her grey feather boa. She says nothing. "Madame Corbin. I highly advise you to confess now", you say. "There is a chance that the judges might deem your motive a reasonable one. You can increase that chance if you continue to act reasonable." Tröger looks at her and sighs. "Yvette... please just tell the truth." Finally, after a few more seconds of silence, Corbin nods. [[And thus...->End2.1]]

Hunter-Smith looks up, her brows furrowed. "What? I wasn't paying attention. Did you just accuse me? No, can't be, I was working." "We've already come to the conclusion that you had time to kill Sanders", you remind her with a triumphant grin. "That alone won't cut it!" "No... that alone won't", Deering says slowly. "But we came to that conclusion pretty early. Since then... do you remember the mail we found on Sanders' computer? She wrote a mail to him after his death. Why write a mail to a dead man?" "Ah, but that was part of her plan!", you explain. "She wrote a mail to him after murdering him so she could make the exact argument you just made!" "Fine. Then how come she didn't make that argument? I made it. You didn't even notice that mail when you first looked at her work and she didn't point it out, either. If she'd really been planning to make this her alibi, wouldn't she have mentioned it?" She pauses a second, then adds: "Besides, I cannot think of a motive." She... does have a point. [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation2.1]]

Tröger stares at you. Then, a flicker of genuine hurt goes over his face. "Really? You stand here and accuse me of murdering my friend? Have you forgotten that I was peacefully admiring the indoor garden?" "So you claim", you remind him, "but is there any evidence supporting that?" "Uh... actually, I think there is", Deering says awkwardly. "Fisher saw him, remember? Their testimony matches up." "They could have collaborated", you insist. Deering rolls her eyes. "Unless you have any evidence to support that, that doesn't hold up", she states and you bite your lip. Do you have anything to support it..? You can't think of anything. Maybe you really are wrong. [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation2.1]]

Perks gasps and raises her hands. "Woah, woah! Hang on a moment! I was in the saloon cleaning! And then I went over to the library! It wasn't me!" "You claim that you went over to the library", you correct her. "But you have nothing to back that up, do you?" "Yeah, except Periwinkle's testimony", Deering snarks. "Which I'm sure just coincidentally matches hers, including stuff like her struggling to breathe that he couldn't possibly have known about without her telling him." "She might have told him in here", you argue and Deering groans before gesturing at the two policemen who have been guarding the suspects. "So these two are just here for decoration? You don't think they would have noticed if two of the suspects were chatting over that?!" The two policemen don't look happy. You smile sheepishly - you almost forgot they were there. Maybe you did mess this up. [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation2.1]]

Fisher pauses a moment, seemingly waiting for you to take it back. When you don't do so, he sighs. "So. You're going to ignore the fact that I was on the phone?" "You checked that phone call", Deering points out. "We already verified that it was real." She raises a brow. "Also, his testimony matches that of Professor Tröger. Have you forgotten that somehow?" She's right. You're not quite sure why you accused the person with the best alibi. [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation2.1]]

Whelp. That was embarrassing. You clear your throat and try to look like nothing happened. "Ahem. As I was saying, the killer is..." [[Dr. Periwinkle!->AccusePeriwinkle2.1]] [[Madame Corbin!->AccuseCorbin2.1]] [[Mrs. Hunter-Smith!->Accuse Hunter-Smith2.1]] [[Professor Tröger!->AccuseTröger2.1]] [[Ms. Perks!->AccusePerks2.1]] [[Mr. Fisher!->AccuseFisher2.1]] [[Somebody else!->AccuseOther2.1]]

Corbin did confess. The verdict has not been decided yet, but it seems that she will get a lighter sentence due to that. Of course, that is only the murder itself - her posession of illegal drugs will be a different issue. That said, she is complying with the judge and the police and that will definitely work in her favour. Tröger seems determined to help her, both in court and in general. He doesn't seem too concerned with Sanders anymore - seems that learning the truth about his friend was far from pleasant. He didn't even take Sanders' plant collection, instead allowing it to be sold to other collectors. You don't know much about Dr. Periwinkle. With somebody as introverted as him, it's not as easy to find out details. But you'd assume that his life didn't change much, apart from losing a client. Hunter-Smith has ironically done what Sanders had wanted... she merged their companies. Or rather, she has taken over. As he had no family, it couldn't be passed down to his children. Now it is hers and she seems eager to make use of it. Fisher now works for Hunter-Smith. He'll be of great use now that she has aquired Sanders' company and they seem to be working well together. You actually see Perks quite frequently, because she now works at the cafe right next to the precinct. She has already memorized your coffee order and Deering swears that the room has never looked cleaner. And as for you and Deering? Well, the next case already awaits. Though you do wonder every once in a while... Could things have gone differently? What if... [[Yes, what if?->Begin]]

There are three people who might know more about Sanders' desire to merge his company with that of Hunter-Smith: Tröger, Corbin and Fisher. Fisher probably knows a fair bit about it, especially if the reason really is related to decreasing profits. But on the other hand, Tröger and Corbin might be privy to more private reasons. [[Ask Corbin->askCorbin2]] [[Ask Fisher->askFisher2]] [[Ask Tröger->askTröger2]]

"I hope you have something important to talk about", Corbin says when you approach her again. She is leaning back, lazily twirling her feather boa around her hand. "Depends. Do you consider Sanders' desire to merge his company with that of Hunter-Smith to be important?" She frowns. "...Not really. But fine. What do you want to know?" "What can you tell us about this merger?", you ask and she shrugs. "Ben desperately wanted it. I don't know much about his work, but I know his profits have been going down. He mentioned something about raising prices, having to spend more to get less. He complained about marketing, too, and how they weren't doing their jobs. To put it bluntly, it wasn't going well." "Hunter-Smith herself had no such issues", you state. Corbin shrugs. "They are very different people. Her idea of how to lead a company and his idea of how to lead a company", she chuckles, "they rarely matched. Sometimes, his idea worked better. Sometimes, hers did. I suppose this time, it was Hunter-Smith who got lucky." So. Sanders' profits were going down for some reason. Hunter-Smith either dealt with the problem better than he did or didn't encounter it. He wanted to merge their companies to protect his investions and likely also to prevent his rival from profiting from his losses. But Hunter-Smith refused the merger. That sounds like a potential murder motive... for Sanders. But Hunter-Smith //profits// from that situation. She has absolutely no reason to kill Sanders. Although... now that you think about it... [[Take another look at the crime scene->crimescene2.2]]

Mr. Fisher is rubbing his cast when you approach him. You wonder if his leg hurts. "Mr. Fisher, I was hoping you could help me out", you state. He nods. "What do you need?" "Is there anything you can tell me about Sanders' desire to merge his company with that of Hunter-Smith?" He nods again, slower this time. "Yes, that was his current project. His finances are rather bad right now. Well... bad for him, that is. His profits have been steadily decreasing for a while and show no sign of increasing again. We had some trouble because the cost of several necessary materials has risen and his budget didn't allow for that. At the same time, people seem to be less interested in his products. He blamed the marketing department, but I don't know if that was actually the issue." Right. "What about Hunter-Smith? The rising costs would have affected her as well." He shrugs. "Her finances are doing great from what I know. Notably, she hasn't had a decrease in customers. That really bothered Mr. Sanders. You need to remember that she has a completely different idea of how to lead a company. And right now, it seems that her idea works better. That can change, and has changed many times in the past. But Sanders was concerned. He didn't like how low his profits were getting and how much she was benefitting from his struggle", he says and adds: "They are rivals, after all. If he sells less, then that is only good for her." Right. In other words, Sanders' profits were going down for some reason. Hunter-Smith either dealt with the problem better than he did or didn't encounter it. He wanted to merge their companies to protect his investions and to prevent his rival from profiting from his losses. But Hunter-Smith refused the merger. That sounds like a potential murder motive... for Sanders. But Hunter-Smith //profits// from that situation. She has absolutely no reason to kill Sanders. Although... now that you think about it... [[Take another look at the crime scene->crimescene2.2]]

Tröger gives you a smile when you approach him again. "Professor Tröger. Do you know anything about Mr. Sanders' desire to merge his company with that of Hunter-Smith?", you ask. He blinks and ponders the question before answering. "Well... I admit, I was not all that familiar with Ben's work. But I do know that he has been struggling a little recently. I believe the prizes for some of the materials he requires have gone up? And fewer people were buying his products. He complained quite a lot about that." "Interesting. Do you know if Hunter-Smith also had these issues?" "I do not know her all that well. But I seem to recall that Ben mentioned that she was doing better than he was, so I do not think she had any trouble. They led their companies in very different ways." ...That means... Sanders' profits were going down for some reason. Hunter-Smith either dealt with the problem better than he did or didn't encounter it. He wanted to merge their companies to protect his investions and likely also to prevent his rival from profiting from his losses. But Hunter-Smith refused the merger. That sounds like a potential murder motive... for Sanders. But Hunter-Smith //profits// from that situation. She has absolutely no reason to kill Sanders. Although... now that you think about it... [[Take another look at the crime scene->crimescene2.2]]

You return to the crime scene, still just as messy as earlier. An idea is starting to form in your head. Slowly, you look around. There are several things that deserve a second glance. If you check them one by one, you should find something of interest. [[Let's start with the filing cabinets]]

You turn your attention towards the large filing cabinets. They have survived the day without any damage. A quick glance inside shows that the files are neatly sorted by type and date. It doesn't take you very long to find something that showcases Sanders' profits. And sure enough, they are decreasing steadily. The graph shows the current year and his profits, although they start out high in January, have gone down steadily month by month. Finding something about the profits of his rivals is a bit more difficult, but you manage it eventually. There are four other companies listed. Two of them have been losing money as well, the other two are doing better than Sanders. One of them is of course the company owned by Hunter-Smith. She was indeed making more profit than he was. Quite a bit more, in fact. Yes, Sanders definitely had reasons to worry. It's no wonder that he's been pushing the merger onto Hunter-Smith so relentlessly - these numbers are pretty clear. [[What about the desk?]]

You have already looked at the desk before. Still, you take the time to have a closer look at every item. There is the computer monitor that has fallen off. It is an expensive model, high-end and probably very good. Now, however, it is nothing but trash. The orchid seems to be doing well enough. You took the time to straighten it out earlier. Only now does it occur to you that this plant might very well be worth a small fortune. Sanders adored rare and expensive plants, after all. His valuable plants... that might have been a way to gain money. But you suppose the merger would have been a long-term solution. There is the small calendar. You note that there isn't anything written in it. Sanders probably kept his schedule on his computer. The calendar seems to be nothing but decoration. You switch the lamp on to see if it still works. Nothing happens and for a moment you think that it is broken. But then you glance at its long cord and realize that it is simply unplugged. When you plug it in, it works just fine. ...Wait. A long cord...? You smirk. Long and tough enough to strangle someone with. Maybe you just discovered the murder weapon. [[On to the bookcase!]]

The bookcase has also survived the day without any trouble. The books inside are all either highly technological or related to running a business, with some financial advise strewn in. There is a large dictionary on the top of the shelf. The shelf isn't dusty, but when you pull out a book, you find that there is some dust underneath it. You check a few other books. More dust. It seems that these books aren't read very often. The shelf is made from dark brown wood. An unusual sight in this building, where beige and light brown seem to be the preferred color. Your theory is growing. But there are some other things you need to figure out before you can come to a conclusion. [[Check another room]]

There are still several rooms that you haven't even looked at yet. But there are three rooms in particular that you'd like to visit. [[Check Corbin's room->corbinsroom2.1]] [[Check the balcony->balcony2.1]] [[Check the indoor garden->garden2.1]]

The balcony isn't too big and there is no furniture of any kind decorating it. The only thing you see is a fairly large ashtray made from green glass. It has been heavily used and is overflowing with ash and cigarette butts. This must be where Corbin comes to smoke. You prod the ashtray. The ash in it appears to be very fresh. Somebody had a smoke here recently. Well, not that recently - the suspects aren't allowed to leave the saloon, and there is nobody else here who smokes. But somebody has used this ashtray shortly before the murder. There's really only one person it could be. Anyway. The balcony offers a good view of the street below. Not that there is much to see on said street. A few cars, a few pedestrians. A woman walking her dog. Not the greatest view, but that is something Sanders had precious little control over. [[Check the indoor garden next->garden2.4]] [[Check Corbin's room next->corbinsroom2.3]]

The balcony isn't too big and there is no furniture of any kind decorating it. The only thing you see is a fairly large ashtray made from green glass. It has been heavily used and is overflowing with ash and cigarette butts. This must be where Corbin comes to smoke. You prod the ashtray. The ash in it appears to be very fresh. Somebody had a smoke here recently. Well, not that recently - the suspects aren't allowed to leave the saloon, and there is nobody else here who smokes. But somebody has used this ashtray shortly before the murder. There's really only one person it could be. Anyway. The balcony offers a good view of the street below. Not that there is much to see on said street. A few cars, a few pedestrians. A woman walking her dog. Not the greatest view, but that is something Sanders had precious little control over. [[One room left...->corbinsroom2.4]]

The balcony isn't too big and there is no furniture of any kind decorating it. The only thing you see is a fairly large ashtray made from green glass. It has been heavily used and is overflowing with ash and cigarette butts. This must be where Corbin comes to smoke. You prod the ashtray. The ash in it appears to be very fresh. Somebody had a smoke here recently. Well, not that recently - the suspects aren't allowed to leave the saloon, and there is nobody else here who smokes. But somebody has used this ashtray shortly before the murder. There's really only one person it could be. Anyway. The balcony offers a good view of the street below. Not that there is much to see on said street. A few cars, a few pedestrians. A woman walking her dog. Not the greatest view, but that is something Sanders had precious little control over. [[One room left...->garden2.5]]

The balcony isn't too big and there is no furniture of any kind decorating it. The only thing you see is a fairly large ashtray made from green glass. It has been heavily used and is overflowing with ash and cigarette butts. This must be where Corbin comes to smoke. You prod the ashtray. The ash in it appears to be very fresh. Somebody had a smoke here recently. Well, not that recently - the suspects aren't allowed to leave the saloon, and there is nobody else here who smokes. But somebody has used this ashtray shortly before the murder. There's really only one person it could be. Anyway. The balcony offers a good view of the street below. Not that there is much to see on said street. A few cars, a few pedestrians. A woman walking her dog. Not the greatest view, but that is something Sanders had precious little control over. ...Yes. You're pretty sure you know what happened. [[It's Time...->It'sTime2.2]]

You let your eyes sweep over the group of people. They're all gathered together - 6 people, but only one of them is responsible for Sander's death. Corbin is sitting off to the side, glaring at you - she looks tense, but that might just be the lack of nicotine.. Tröger is looking rather neutral, staring down at his hands. In the corner, Perks is still trying to stay as far away from Corbin as she can. Hunter-Smith is holding her phone, but not using it. She doesn't look happy about it - in fact, she doesn't look happy in general - but she seems to be resisting the desire to work for now. Periwinkle is curled up, trying to look as harmless and unsuspicious as possible - you almost expect a halo to pop up over his head. Finally, Fisher isn't showing any emotions except for the way he clutches his crutch just a bit too tightly. You clear your throat and everybody's eyes turn towards you. "One of you", you begin, "has killed a man tonight. Given what I have seen and heard here... there can be no doubt. The killer can only be..." [[Dr. Periwinkle!->AccusePeriwinkle2.2]] [[Madame Corbin!->AccuseCorbin2.2]] [[Mrs. Hunter-Smith!->Accuse Hunter-Smith2.2]] [[Professor Tröger!->AccuseTröger2.2]] [[Ms. Perks!->AccusePerks2.2]] [[Mr. Fisher!->AccuseFisher2.2]] [[Somebody else!->AccuseOther2.2]]

Perks gasps and raises her hands. "Woah, woah! Hang on a moment! I was in the saloon cleaning! And then I went over to the library! It wasn't me!" "You claim that you went over to the library", you correct her. "But you have nothing to back that up, do you?" "Yeah, except Periwinkle's testimony", Deering snarks. "Which perfectly matches hers." "She might have talked him into backing her up", you argue and Deering groans before gesturing at the two policemen who have been guarding the suspects. "So these two are just here for decoration? You don't think they would have noticed if two of the suspects were chatting over that?!" The two policemen don't look happy. You smile sheepishly - you almost forgot they were there. Maybe you did mess this up. [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation2.2]]

Hunter-Smith looks up, her brows furrowed. "What? I wasn't paying attention. Did you just accuse me? No, can't be, I was working." "I'm afraid that isn't going to be enough", you say gently. "We have already come to the conclusion that you had enough time to murder Mr. Sanders. And you did. Although... it may not have been your fault." "Not her fault?!", Corbin echoes, a hint of genuine anger in her voice. "What is that supposed to mean?!" "Yes, what is that supposed to mean?" That is Tröger, equally confused. "Simple. Isn't it true that Mr. Sanders had been urging you to merge your company with his? Although you made it very clear to him that you weren't interested, he did not back off. Is that true?" "...Are you implying that I killed him because he was annoying me?", Hunter-Smith asks in sheer disbelief. "What kind of person do you think I am?!" "Please answer the question, Mrs. Hunter-Smith", Deering cuts in and Hunter-Smith glares at her. "Yes, he did bother me with it. And it was annoying." "I refuse to believe that this is it", Fisher says, crossing his arms. You give him a nod. "You are correct. It isn't that easy. As far as Mrs. Hunter-Smith here was concerned, there was no bad outcome. Either Sanders company would have been permanently damaged, which would have benefitted her, or he would have come up with a way to merge that would have benefitted both of them, in which case she would have agreed. There was absolutely no reason for her to harm Sanders." "Precisely. I am glad you agree", Hunter-Smith says. "Then... what are you saying?", Perks asks. "Why are you accusing her if you don't think..." "For Mr. Sanders, her continued refusal to accept his deal was a big issue. His profits were decreasing and he was slowly but surely losing customers. His company was in danger and the one person who could have solved his problems with ease was refusing to do so. For him, the merger would have been nothing but profitable. Not only would it have helped him with his decreasing profits, but it would also have turned one of his greatest rivals into a permanent ally. But Hunter-Smith's refusal was making this impossible." "...That, uh... that sounds more like a motive for Mr. Sanders than a motive for her...", Periwinkle points out. You point at him. "Exactly. Which is why we must ask ourselves: Who attacked who?" Tröger gasps in disbelief and Hunter-Smith grows stiff. "T-that is completely absurd!", she hisses. "Sanders had invited you to this party with the express purpose of once again asking you to merge your companies. You once again refused. And he... once again refused to accept your decision. When Fisher called Sanders into the office, Sanders decided to try yet again. He called you over into the office as well. That was a matter of seconds, since you were working in the saloon, only a few steps away from the office. You followed him and he, once again, attempted to push the merger onto you." She says nothing. "At this point, you were understandably upset about his refusal to accept your decision. An argument began. Now, I do not know how this argument became violent. Perhaps he, desperate to force the merger, threw the first punch. Perhaps you threw the first punch simply because of how annoyed you were. Fact is that a fight broke out. During that fight, a large part of the office was destroyed. Now, Mr. Sanders was a frail man. But you, Mrs. Hunter-Smith, with all due respect, are not very muscular. Chances are that you and he were fairly evenly matched." Still no answer. She isn't looking at you. Her fingers have tightened around her phone. "In the heat of the fight, you grabbed the closest object you could reach... the lamp. You used the cord to strange Mr. Sanders. Considering the situation you were in, that might be considered self defense - that depends mainly on who started the fight. But in the end, your reaction was... disproportionate. Sanders fell and you, realizing what had happened, returned to the saloon and pretended that nothing had happened." You look at her. "Isn't that right, Mrs. Hunter-Smith?" She hesitates. Then, she tosses her phone onto the couch. "He attacked me", she states, glaring at the phone as if it had insulted her entire family. "I admit that I yelled at him, but he attacked me." Perks gasps in shock. "Are you admitting it?!" "Really?!", Fisher asks. "All this because... because of that stupid merger?!" "If he had just accepted my answer, it wouldn't have escalated!", Hunter-Smith yells. "He hit me! Of course I hit back! Was I supposed to just take it?!" "Mrs. Hunter-Smith... I believe that this is a discussion you ought to have with your lawyer", you say. She glares at you. But she doesn't try to argue. [[And thus...->End2.2]]

Periwinkle's eyes widen in shock. His mouth opens and closes, unable to form words. Then, finally, he manages: "B-but... but I didn't do it! I was reading, I promise! I never even left the library!" "Did you now? Is there anyone who can confirm that?" "Perks can, remember?" That was Deering. "She saw him. And their testimony matches." "They may have collaborated", you point out. "For a murder that wasn't premeditated? Unlikely. Besides, what would either one of them gain from this?" ...Good question. [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation2.2]]

Whelp. That was embarrassing. You clear your throat and try to look like nothing happened. "Ahem. As I was saying, the killer is..." [[Dr. Periwinkle!->AccusePeriwinkle2.2]] [[Madame Corbin!->AccuseCorbin2.2]] [[Mrs. Hunter-Smith!->Accuse Hunter-Smith2.2]] [[Professor Tröger!->AccuseTröger2.2]] [[Ms. Perks!->AccusePerks2.2]] [[Mr. Fisher!->AccuseFisher2.2]] [[Somebody else!->AccuseOther2.2]]

One Hunter-Smith admitted her guilt, she was fortunally willing to comply with the police. In court, it was determined that the fact that Sanders had attacked her first wasn't quite enough to get her off the hook - after all, it was her choice to escalate a fairly simple fistfight by choking her opponent. However, it did result in a slightly lighter sentence than she would have gotten. Her husband has taken over her company for now. As of now, it is impossible to say what that will mean for her company and her future. Corbin has returned to France. It is unlikely that she will return here anytime soon, now that Sanders is gone. You do know she is mentioned in his last will, but you don't know what she inherited. Tröger inherited the plant collection, of course. It is a sizable fortune, but you suspect that it isn't their monetary value he cares about. You don't know much about Dr. Periwinkle. With somebody as introverted as him, it's not as easy to find out details. But you'd assume that his life didn't change much, apart from losing a client. Fisher has unfortunally lost one of his biggest clients and since there is nobody who can take over Sanders' company, it seems like Fisher will have to find somebody new. But he is a competent accountant and you don't doubt that he'll find plenty of work. You actually see Perks quite frequently, because she now works at the cafe right next to the precinct. She has already memorized your coffee order and Deering swears that the room has never looked cleaner. And as for you and Deering? Well, the next case already awaits. Though you do wonder every once in a while... Could things have gone differently? What if... [[Yes, what if?->Begin]]

6 suspects in total. Time to meet them and see what you're working with. The suspects are gathered in what seems to be a saloon, being watched by two young policemen. They are here not only to watch the suspects, but also to ensure that they do not talk to each other too much, since that could alter their testimony. Given that, you know for a fact that the suspects will at no point be able to talk to each other about anything related to the case. A large, grey couch takes up the entire left side of the room, giving those who might sit on it a perfect view of the enourmous TV hanging on the opposite wall. Right now, however, the people sitting on that couch are not interested in the TV at all. Instead, their eyes lock onto you the second you enter the room. Those must be the suspects. You glance at them, look them over. Most of them are still in formal wear, pulled straight from the party. You do wonder what they were doing up here if the party was downstairs. That's one of the many things you'll have to question them about. [[Start Questioning->QuestionFisher]]

Deering points you towards a brown-haired man with a thin mustache. He's trying to stay calm, but he's trembling slightly. His suit is dark grey with a light grey tie. A plain, simple outfit, not really made for a party. Though really, the entire man does not seem to be made for a party. He looks stiff and serious in every conceivable way. It's downright impossible to imagine him doing anything other than paperwork or virtual paperwork. His right foot is encased in a thick cast, the leg of his suit rolled up to accommodate it. A metallic crutch is lying on the couch next to him. It looks heavy, but the man is rather buff. "May I have your name, please?", you ask and the man looks at you. "I am Mr. Fisher", he says and ah, so that's why Deering pointed at him. He is the one who found the body. "Right. Mr. Fisher, please tell us who you are and what happened tonight." "I am an accountant", he begins, "and I work... worked... for Mr. Sanders. In fact, I was working in the office at the time of the murder." You raise a brow. "Working? During a party?" He nods. "I am not a people person. I asked Mr. Sanders to let me do work instead and he agreed." You glance down at his leg. "Getting up the stairs must have been difficult for you. Wouldn't it have been easier for you to stay downstairs?" "I am used to it. My apartment is on the second floor, so I know how to climb stairs with my crutch", he explains. "I see. So what were you working on?" "Paperwork regarding his finances. If you were to head to his office and take a look, you will find proof of that. Ah, I also believe that Ms. Perks joined me at some point." If that is true, then it would be a rather solid alibi. "And how did you discover the body?" "I had a question regarding the document I was working on, so I left the office to ask Mr. Sanders about it. B-but... all I found was..." He shudders and cuts himself off as his face turns pale. You cannot blame him. "What did you do next?", you ask softly. Fisher takes a second to breathe before he answers honestly: "I screamed. I... it took me a minute or two before I could really comprehend... and then I c-called the police and an ambulance, but..." He goes silent again and you take pity on him. Once you are done questioning the others, you'll check his alibi, but for now you'll leave him be. [[Continue Questioning->QuestionHunter-Smith3]]

You go for the tall, serious-looking woman next. She's looking at her phone, typing swiftly, barely paying attention to you. Her suit is plum-colored with a black tie. Blonde hair, obviously dyed and coated in enoug hair spray to hold an elephant in place, frames a pointy face. A handbag, also black, is slung around her shoulders... actually, no. It's a laptop bag. Behind you, Deering speaks up: "I already asked you to put down your phone." The woman blinks, then looks up. She doesn't put down her phone. "Huh? Oh, right. I am Mrs. Hunter-Smith. Hello." "Mrs. Hunter-Smith", you repeat slowly. "That name sounds familiar." "It might", she confirms. "I was one of Sanders' competitors." Right, now you remember. She is the owner of another company for expensive machine parts. You're not sure about the relationship between these companies. There ought to be a rivalry there, right? "Why would he invite his competitor to a party?" She shrugs. "He and I have gone from rivals to allies and back several times. Right now, we are... were getting along reasonably well. I assume he wanted to keep it that way." Right, "And at the time of the murder, where were you?" "Right here in the saloon. Sanders was with me for a few minutes, but then he left and I stayed here to work." Another person who prefers work over partying? Sanders had a type. Though considering the fact that she is looking at her phone even now, while a detective is interviewing her... she does seem like the type of person who works a lot. "Do you have any way to confirm that?" She nods. "I have all my work right here on my laptop. You are free to have a look at it." She pauses, then adds: "And I do seem to recall that Madame Corbin saw me. ...Yes, she came in to ask me for cigarettes." She gestures towards a woman in the far corner. Then she pulls out her laptop, flips it open and lets you see her work. You could weep. This is the thing detectives dream of during their happiest nights. There are files upon files, there are mails, letters, presentations, calculations, negotiations, schedules, reports, questions, answers... and all of it with time stamps. You can track her actions perfectly, step by step, never more than two or three minutes between these time stamps. There is no way this woman killed Mr. Sanders unless she can move at the speed of light. Although... the saloon is rather close to the bedroom where Sanders died. Shouldn't she have heard something? You voice that thought, but Deering dashes your hopes: "Mr. Sanders took noise control very seriously from what we've gathered, because these walls are almost completely sound proof. I suppose that's useful for somebody who likes loud parties that last all night." A shame. You'll keep it in mind, though. [[Continue Questioning->QuestionCorbin3]]

Your next target is the person Hunter-Smith indicated... Madame Corbin. As you step towards the slender woman, you immediately find yourself surrounded by the thick smell of cigarette smoke, She isn't even actively smoking, but the smell clings to her like a very unusual type of perfume. It clogs your throat, so you step back and observe from a distance. She wears a long, elegant dress and a thick grey feather boa around her narrow shoulders. Her black hair is tied into a high ponytail. Your eyes are drawn towards the gorgeous emerald necklace around her neck. It looks incredibly valuable. "Madame Corbin, correct?" She takes her time before she answer. "...Correct." "What relationship did you have with the victim?" Again, she makes you wait. "...Ben and I were friends", she finally says. "I have known him for about 13 years and visited quite frequently." Right. Benjamin Sanders, that's his full name, though you've never heard anyone call him Ben. "And what do you do for a living?" "I am a designer", she says curtly and gestures at her dress. "One of my creations. Isn't it gorgeous?" You have to admit that the dress suits her perfectly. Jade green, the perfect color to compliment her hair. "It is lovely", you admit. "May I ask what you were doing up here, seeing how the party was downstairs?" "I am currently staying in one of the guest rooms", she explains, "I had gone there to fetch another box of cigarettes." She pauses, frowns, then continues sounding somewhat put out: "I couldn't find any. I searched every drawer, all of my pockets, all of my bags. I'd been certain that there was at least one box still left, but... I could not find anything. Now, I openly admit that I rarely go long without a smoke." You absolutely believe that. With the way the smell of smoke surrounds her, it seems as if the nicotine has seeped into her pores. "So I asked a few others. I asked... yes, I believe I asked Hunter-Smith first, and then..." "May I ask where Hunter-Smith was when you asked her?", you interrupt. Corbin glares at you, but answers: "In the saloon. I do believe she was working on something." A smirk. "But then again, when is she not." That does fit Hunter-Smith's testimony. "Alright. Continue, please." She nods. "Next, I headed to the library and asked Dr. Periwinkle. Mind you, I did not have high hopes. And he did not have cigarettes, unfortunally." A sigh. "After that, I returned to my room to search it again. I remained there until the police arrived. And unfortunally, I didn't find anything." Hunter-Smith's testimony matches hers, but that alone does not mean anything. After all, she could have easily gone to murder Sanders after asking Hunter-Smith for cigarettes. ...Although... you are fairly sure that their matching claims are true. Because one thing you can say with reasonable certainity is that this was not a premeditated murder. You voice that thought and Deering nods. "I came to the same conclusion. Not only does the placement of the body suggest an unplanned crime, but the fact that there are only six possible suspects... if it had been planned, he'd have been killed downstairs. Then we'd have over a hundred potential killers to deal with. Instead we have an almost 17% chance of catching the right person just by randomly picking one. Nobody's dumb enough to do that on purpose." Precisely. So it was unplanned, a spontaneous decision. Though as of now, you have no idea whose decision it was. But with a non-premediated murder like this, it's unlikely for any testimony to be prepared in advance. Lies made up on the spot, or the truth... that's it. You will have to keep that in mind. [[Continue Questioning->QuestionPeriwinkle3]]

You let Deering point you towards the man Corbin just mentioned - Dr. Periwinkle, a small blond man with large, blue eyes. He seems quite young, no older than thirty-five. He's meekly hunched over on his corner of the couch, trying to make himself as small as possible. Unfortunally for him, he sticks out like a sore thumb: The other suspects are dressed in dark shades, while he is wearing a completely white suit. He's also wearing a bowtie, while the other three suit-wearing suspects are all wearing normal ties. He'd make a handsome groom, but it's an odd outfit for a simple party. He's playing around with his fingers... fingers that are stuck in light grey gloves. Interesting... You clear your throat and he flinches. "Dr. Periwinkle, correct?" "Y-yes. That's me", he confirms. "How, uh, how can I help you?" "First of all, what was your connection to the victim?" "I was his doctor", Periwinkle explains. "I am... a concierge doctor, that means that he pays... paid... me a monthly fee and thus I was on call for him at any given time. He... he's been my patient for several years now." He glances aside and coughs nervously. "Right, I understand. Why were you up here? The main event was downstairs, so why weren't you there?" You already have a hunch. And Periwinkle promptly confirms it: "I... I don't really like crowds. I'm not sure why he even... I accepted the invitation to be polite, but eventually it just... it was too much for me. I asked Mr. Sanders if I could go upstairs to calm down..." "Alright. And he agreed, I'd assume. So what did you do once you were up here?" "I went to the library. Ms. Perks was already there, dusting, but she didn't seem to be bothered by my presence. After a while, Madame Corbin came in for a moment to ask if I had a cigarette for her, but unfortunally I could not help her. She left and so did Ms. Perks. After that, I was alone." He pauses, takes a second to ponder what he said, then nods. "T-that's it, I think..." Which means that he was alone at the time of the murder. First impressions can be deceiving. Still: Your first impression of this man is that he couldn't hurt a fly. Though whether or not that is accurate... [[Continue Questioning->QuestionPerks3]]

The next suspect is a pudgy brunette teenager, sitting at the very edge of the couch far away from the others. She isn't dressed as elegantly as the others; her outfit consists of a blue sweater and a pair of worn jeans, plus dark blue sneakers. She also keeps throwing glances at the other guests, especially at Corbin. Perhaps she's not a guest at all? "May I have your name?", you ask and she hesitates. "Uh... my name is Ms. Perks. I'm a part-time cleaner." Right, you've heard that name before. "You were up here to clean, correct?" "Yeah. I was dusting the library. Eventually, that guy", she points towards Periwinkle, "came in and took some, uh, fantasy novel, I think? Something with a dragon on the cover. He was nice and quiet, so I kept working." She frowns. "I was almost done when that one came in." Another glare at Corbin. It isn't a friendly one. "Do you have an issue with Madame Corbin?" She starts to shake her head. Then, halfway through the motion, she abandons it to shrug instead. "I mean, I don't mind her as a person", she says. "Just, I have asthma and I'm especially sensitive to cigarette smoke." You raise a brow. "Dusting seems like a risky job for somebody with asthma." "I handle dust pretty well", she says. "And since we keep the the mansion nice and clean, there's never all that much dust in one spot, so I don't have to worry. A big dust cloud would be bad, though." "Right... so Corbin came in. What happened then?" "I think she asked Periwinkle for something? I have no clue, I wasn't concentrating. Just standing next to her makes my throat all scratchy! So... I left and went to the balcony for some fresh air." You suppose that's a reasonable course of action. "Oh! While I was out there, my brother called me! I don't know if that's helpful?" "It might be, depending on when it was and how long the call took. If you would show me your phone?" She hands it over without hesitation. There is indeed a phone call there... but it ended before the murder occurred. You hand it back. "What did you do after the call ended?" "I went to the office to clean there. Mr. Fisher was there, working on something", she says. "After a few minutes, he got up and left. Next thing I knew, the cops were here." [[Continue Questioning->QuestionTröger]]

The last suspect is a man, elderly and overweight, wearing a dark brown suit. His tie is green and so are his eyes, eyes peeking through small round glasses. Grey, fluffy hair frames his face with a thick beard. He's smiling, but it's clearly forced, a deep sadness evident behind it. His pose suggests the same, curled up and wrapping his arms around himself. He introduces himself before you can say anything: "I am Professor Richard Tröger." "Professor Tröger. Please tell me about your connection to the victim." He sighs. "Ben and I have been close friends for... it must have been 20 years at least. We ar... were both avid collectors of rare plants." "Rare plants?" An interesting hobby. "Oh yes. Have you seen his indoor garden? It is truly a thing of beauty. I was there when... when it happened." "In the indoor garden? I see. Did anyone see you?" "I am afraid not, no. I left the garden for a moment to talk to Ben... heaven, if I had know it would be the last time I would see him alive..." He shakes his head sadly. "But after that, I returned to the garden." "And you did not leave it again?" "No. I was in my room earlier - I am currently staying in the first guestroom, you see - but that was before I went to the garden. And of course, before talking to Ben." You nod. "You knew the victim well. What about the other people here? Have you encountered any of them before?" "Ah, well... Yvette, of course. Or Corbin, as you likely know her. Ben introduced us a long time ago and I consider her one of my dearest friends. I know she, too, is a suspect, but I do not for a second believe that she is the murderer." He looks over at Corbin and smiles. To your surprise, she actually sincerely smiles back. "Other than that... I have encountered Fisher a few times, but we never talked much. And of course I know the girl, Perks, from that mess with her brother. The other ones... Ben mentioned them occasionally, but I have never really interacted with them." Alright... Now. Before you do anything else, you ought to have a look at Fisher's work. [[Check Fisher's alibi->alibi]]

There are many ways to go from here. You do have some questions that might be worth asking, but before you ask them, you'd like to take a look at a few rooms. Several of them were mentioned. [[Where to go first...->Wherefirst]]

There are quite a few rooms in this mansion, several of which were mentioned during the questioning. Who knows what kind of clue they might hold? ''In moments like this you must keep in mind that, while some of these options will permit you to come back here and pick another one, not all of them do. Just going through them from the top in order to see them all is not an option. Choose carefully.'' [[Search the Saloon->Saloon]] [[Search the Indoor Garden->Garden3]] [[Search the Office->Office3]] [[Search the Library->Library3]] [[Search Tröger's Room->TrögersRoom]]

You ask the two policemen guarding the suspects to bring them all into the hallway for a moment. They comply and you take a closer look at the saloon. The large couch is rather messy, with the pillows all over the place. That's not surprising, since all of the suspects were sitting there. On the table, you find the TV remote and a half-empty glass of water. A phone charger is plugged into a socket near the spot where Hunter-Smith was sitting, most likely hers. The water might also be hers, based on the position of the glass. You cannot find anything else that might be of interest. [[Where else to look...->Wherefirst]]

You enter the library and find yourself dwarfed by enourmous bookshelves. They're tall enough to reach the ceiling and ladders are required to reach the books on the top shelf - two of them are leaned against the shelves, ready to be used. The books themselves are sorted by genre and alphabet. In the corner, near the windows, there is a grey chaise lounge with a round, wooded table in front of it. An equally grey armchair is placed across from it. An open book is placed on the table. You take a closer look at it. Seems to be a fantasy novel. The cover shows a green dragon curled around some kind of ornate staff. There are three other books piled up next to it, also fantasy novels. It seems that Dr. Periwinkle has a favourite genre. You take a closer look at the shelves and marvel at the variety. It really is a library. There is fiction and non-fiction, there are thrillers, romance novels, fantasy novels, sci-fi, there are dictionaries, lexica, cookbooks... and of course many, many books about plants and machines. You pull out a book at random. It's about hydraulics. There isn't a speck of dust on it - Perks did her job well. A glance through the window reveals nothing but the street below and a few cars. Perks and Periwinkle... both of them were alone at the time of the murder and have no alibi. Perks works here, so she might have known about the hidden knife. Periwinkle wears gloves, so he wouldn't leave fingerprints. But Perks would have left fingerprints and Periwinkle probably wouldn't have known about the knife... Or... wait. Does the cleaning staff here have access to disposable gloves? And how well does Dr. Periwinkle know this mansion, anyway? [[Let's ask Dr. Periwinkle]] [[Let's ask Ms. Perks]]

You open the door to the indoor garden... and are blown away. The room is filled to the brim with... plants. Large plants, small plants, tall plants, fat plants, colorful plants, drab plants, smelly plants, ugly plants, pretty plants, simple plants, exotic plants, flowering plants, thorny plants. There are thousands of them and no two are the same. And you? You recognize a grand total of zero of them. That over there might be a fern. No, wait. This one is definitely some kind of bonsai! They are placed on tables, hung from the ceiling, placed on the walls, standing in the corner. You feel like you are standing in a forest. If you were an expert, like Professor Tröger, you'd likely be able to spend weeks marvelling at these plants. You reach out for a small flower that resembles an orchid, but Deering stops you: "I wouldn't do that if I were you. From what I gathered, Sanders took his hobby serious. These are //rare// plants. Some of them are worth a small fortune." You quickly draw your hand back. You are very careful as you move through the room, trying your best not to touch any of the plants - one wrong move would be enough to push one of the smaller ones off the tables and apparently that would have some awful consequences for your bank account. There is one single table without plants on it. That one is instead filled with various gardening tools, such as large gardening shears, curved gardening knifes, small spades and an expensive-looking water gauge. There are also several watering cans and a plant mister. A half-empty bag of soil is stored under the table, a smaller bag of soil meant for orchids is lying next to it. There is a small box filled with various bags of fertilizer. There is a row of hooks on the wall behind the table. On these hooks are several pairs of gardening gloves. One of them is coated in a thin layer of dirt and covered in brownish stains. You take them and take a closer look at them... they are a bit larger than the other pairs. It seems that these are a bigger size. Taking another look around, you realize that there is some dirt on the floor near one of the potted plants in the corner. The rest of the floor is spotless. Strange... you wonder when it was last cleaned... and what happened to make it dirty. [[Ask Professor Tröger]] [[Ask Ms. Perks]]

The room Tröger is staying in looks very different from the rest of the mansion. A shaggy brown carpet covers the floor and the furniture, though still wooden like everywhere else, is much darker than what you'd expect. A large, pale green armchair is placed next to a bookshelf - the books stored inside are all about botany. There is an empty suitcase next to the bed. You're not surprised to see that there are several plants around. You do not recognize them, but they look luscious and healthy. You check the wardrobe to find a vast array of comfortable sweaters and coats. Most of the sweaters are made from wool and are well-worn, though they don't look cheap or trashy. There are also a lot of patterned socks, most of them striped. You also check the drawers of the bedside table and the dressers. Most of them are empty and the ones that do contain something contain nothing of interest. A small watering can, a box of fertilizer sticks, a small spade, another book about plants, one pair of pruning shears. There is also a box of glasses wipes, some hand lotion and a nail clipper. You do not, however, find anything related to the case. [[Where else to look...->Wherefirst]]

Mr. Fisher leads you to the office. The room looks tidy and neat, with large file cabinets and nicely arranged bookshelves towering over you. There is a modern-looking computer on the table, likely very valuable. Fisher types in the password - interesting, so he does know that - and shows you what he was working on. You openly admit that you don't understand the subject matter. It seems to involve the profits Sanders was making, his finances in general and several spreadsheets. It's definitely accountant work. It is also a reminder of how wealthy Mr. Sanders was: Those numbers have a lot of zeros. Many people would have been very, very eager to get a share. Could that be a motive? But you don't need to understand the content. What you need to understand are the time stamps. And these... The last time stamp, part of a lenghty spreadsheet, is shortly before the murder. Unfortunally for Mr. Fisher, that won't cut it. A person could still reach the crime scene in time and murder Mr. Sanders if they started here right after finishing that spreadsheet... they'd just have to hurry a little. This alone is not an alibi. [[So that means...->Interlude3]]

You return to the office again and take a closer look. The books on the bookshelves are all either highly technological or related to running a business, with some financial advise strewn in. There is a large dictionary on the top of the shelf. The shelf isn't dusty, but when you pull out a book, you find that there is some dust underneath it. You check a few other books. More dust. It seems that these books aren't read very often. A quick glance into the filing cabinets shows that the files inside are neatly sorted by type and date. You pull one out at random. It appears to be some kind of contract involving copper. You check the desk drawers, but you find nothing but office supplies. [[Where else to look...->Wherefirst]]

You step up to Professor Tröger again and he gives you another sad smile. "How can I help you this time?", he asks. "I noticed that there was some soil on the floor of the indoor garden", you explain. "The rest of the room was spotless. Do you know what happened?" He blushes a bit. "Oh dear... yes, that was in fact my fault. Do you remember when I mentioned that I left the garden once to talk to poor Ben?" You do indeed remember that. "Well, the reason I went to talk to him was that I had accidentally toppled over one of the plants", he confesses. "And his pine tree bonsai, of all things. Do you have any idea how much that tree is worth?" You shake your head. It's a bonsai, right? Maybe 1000 dollar? "That particular tree is worth almost two hundred thousand dollar! And it is centuries old! I would not have been able to live with myself, had my carelessness destroyed it!" //Two hundred thousand dollar for one plant?!// You can't blame Tröger for looking nervous - the sheer thought of bumping into that makes you sweaty! He seems to notice your disbelief, because he chuckles. "Yes... I was certainly nervous when I went to confess. But Ben was quite understanding of my mistake and told me it would be alright as long as I cleaned it up and made sure the plant was not damaged." You glance down at Tröger's hands. He's rubbing his wrist, a nervous tic maybe? They are larger than those of Mr. Sanders. If he cleaned up that soil and straightened out the plant, those gloves might very well be his. "And if you cleaned up, why was there still soil on the ground?" "I could not find a broom and I did not want to bother Ben again. I figured I would simply ask one of the cleaners if they could give me one later." You nod. "Thank you, Professor Tröger." Two hundred thousand dollars for one plant. You cannot believe it. What a treasure Sanders had sitting in his home! How much might the other plants be worth? "You are more than welcome", he tells you. [[Have another look at that plant]]

You take Ms. Perks aside and politely ask her if she knows when the indoor garden was last cleaned. She grins. "Just this afternoon. I did that myself, right after cleaning the bedroom, so I'm sure about that." "Alright", you say. "Since then, who else entered the garden?" She takes a moment to ponder your question. "As far as I know, only Mr. Sanders and the professor over there", she finally says. "But maybe somebody entered while I couldn't see it." You cannot ask Mr. Sanders anymore, so it seems you will have to ask Professor Tröger. [[Ask Professor Tröger]]

You approach the small bonsai tree with as much caution as you can muster. It looks harmless, but if you drop this... There is a faint crack in the clay pot, likely from when it hit the ground. The plant itself doesn't look damaged as far as you can see - not that you'd be able to recognize it. You do wonder why Mr. Sanders would place something so valuable on the very edge of a table. The only logical reason you can come up with is that all the plants placed in more secure locations are worth even more than this one, which is terrifying to think about. You feel like you're standing in Scrooge McDuck's money bin, if Scrooge McDuck had married a botanist. Turning the plant in your hands, you cannot find anything else worth investigating, so you very carefully set it back down. You wonder just how many people actually know about the fortune kept in this room. Tröger knew, obviously. Fisher might have known, given that he was responsible for Sanders' finances. Corbin, maybe? She doesn't strike you as somebody who is overly fond of gardening, but she //was// Sanders' close friend. [[Talk to Fisher again]] [[Talk to Corbin again]]

Corbin is sitting with her legs crossed and her fingers tapping a nervous rhythm against them. She looks far from relaxed. "Madame Corbin, can I..." "No", she growls, then groans. "...Apologies. The lack of cigarettes is starting to become bothersome. I cannot believe I ran out, that has not happened in years! What do you want?" "I was wondering if you could tell me anything about Mr. Sanders plant collection", you ask and she gives a short, dry laugh. "You are talking to the wrong person. Richard is the one who understands that... I don't. I see plants as pretty accessoires, to be worn in the buttonhole of a suit or woven into hair. Though if I'd tried that with one of their plants, they would probably have killed me." You don't doubt that. "So you knew how much these plants were worth? Was that public knowledge?", you ask and she thinks about it for a moment. "Public knowledge... maybe. The proper names and exact price of these plants, heaven no. I certainly never understood a word of it. But the fact that Ben owned a vast array of plants, with several of them highly valued? That was somewhat well-known, I believe. There were some interviews about it, mentions in magazines and online. I think it would be easy to find out." She grimaces and looks at you with a pleading expression. "You wouldn't happen to have a cigarette on you, would you?" "I do not smoke, Madame", you reply and she gives you a mix between a frustrated groan and a sob. "I'm certain that I still had some somewhere! But I'm not allowed to leave this room!" You pause. "Say... earlier, you said that you asked Dr. Periwinkle and Mrs. Hunter-Smith for cigarettes and then you returned to your room to keep searching. But there were four other people around. Why didn't you ask them?" She sighs. "Well, I knew Ben did not smoke and neither does Richard, so I did not bother either of them. And Perks, of course, neither has cigarettes nor does she like getting close to me." She glances over to Perks, who is still standing in the opposite corner of the room, putting as much distance between herself and Corbin as is possible. "Fisher... I'll be honest: I forgot he was there. He disappeared into the office the second he arrived at the party and never once set a foot outside, so", she shrugs, "it slipped my mind that he was present." Right, that does sound reasonable. You're not quite sure where to go from here. You could have another look at the crime scene, you could try having a look at another room - the library might be somewhat interesting... Corbin makes that strange half-sob-half-groan noise again. Maybe you could spare a minute and see if you can help her? [[Look at the crime scene again->crimescene3.1]] [[Search the Library->Library3.1]] [[Search Corbin's room]]

You return to the crime scene to have another look around. The second you step into the room, Deering's phone rings, so she excuses herself and steps outside, leaving you alone. A deeper search... there is a lot of storage space. A chest of drawers, the dressing table, the bedside table... they all have drawers. Furthermore, you haven't looked inside the wardrobe yet. [[Check the dressing table]] [[Check the bedside table]] [[Check the chest of drawers]] [[Check the wardrobe]]

You enter the library and find yourself dwarfed by enourmous bookshelves. They're tall enough to reach the ceiling and ladders are required to reach the books on the top shelf - two of them are leaned against the shelves, ready to be used. The books themselves are sorted by genre and alphabet. In the corner, near the windows, there is a grey chaise lounge with a round, wooded table in front of it. An equally grey armchair is placed across from it. An open book is placed on the table. You take a closer look at it. Seems to be a fantasy novel. The cover shows a green dragon curled around some kind of ornate staff. There are three other books piled up next to it, also fantasy novels. It seems that Dr. Periwinkle has a favourite genre. You take a closer look at the shelves and marvel at the variety. It really is a library. There is fiction and non-fiction, there are thrillers, romance novels, fantasy novels, sci-fi, there are dictionaries, lexica, cookbooks... and of course many, many books about machines. You pull out a book at random. It's about hydraulics. There isn't a speck of dust on it - Perks did her job well. A glance through the window reveals nothing but the street below and a few cars. Perks and Periwinkle... both of them were alone at the time of the murder and have no alibi. Perks works here, so she might have known about the hidden knife. Periwinkle wears gloves, so he wouldn't leave fingerprints. But Perks would have left fingerprints and Periwinkle probably wouldn't have known about the knife... Or... wait. Does the cleaning staff here have access to disposable gloves? And how well does Dr. Periwinkle know this mansion, anyway? [[Let's ask Dr. Periwinkle->askPeriwinkle3]] [[Let's ask Ms. Perks->askPerks3]]

You're not surprised to find the smell of cigarette smoke filling the room, clinging to everything inside it. You are however surprised to find that the room looks nothing like the rest of the mansion. Instead of bright wood and soft greys, this room's furniture is pitch black. There is a huge canopy bed with an elegant metal frame, a very elegant dressing table and a mannequin without a dress, waiting for someone to dress it. On one wall, you can see the largest mirror you've ever seen - it takes up almost the entire wall. Even the carpet doesn't fit what you've seen outside; not grey or white, but jade green. It seems that this is not just a guest room, but a guest room designed specifically for Madame Corbin. The dresser is covered in various objects: A comb, a hairbrush, a pair of pliers. Some jewelery like a ring and two bracelets, plus two jewelery boxes - one empty, one containing a gorgeous emerald necklace. Then a small tube of hand lotion and an even smaller bottle of hand sanitizer. You open the drawers. Some make-up and several bottles of nail polish in varying shades. You also find a few fashion magazines. When you open one up, you find that several pages have been marked with small stripes of colored paper and some pictures are circled. There are also some notes, largely about color and material. One particular dress is crossed out and the notes next to it rant about how tacky the fur trim is. Corbin, it seems, has opinions on the fashion world. You suppose it is a part of her job. You don't see any cigarettes, though. [[Look at the crime scene again->crimescene3.1]] [[Search the Library->Library3.1]] [[Keep looking]]

There is nothing on the dressing table itself except for the clock that contained the hidden knife and a hairbrush. You open the drawer instead. There isn't much inside. A box of tissues, a comb, a small bottle of aftershave. Other than that, it is completely empty. You take a second look at the clock, starting by pulling and pressing a few other spots to see if there is anything else hidden on it. You do eventually pry open a small lid, but it's just the battery compartment. There are no batteries inside, which explains why the clock doesn't work. Seems like Sanders wasn't using it as a clock, only as decoration... and to hide a weapon. [[Let's try something else]]

The bedside table contains a box of cough drops, a pen and a flyer. You unfold the flyer. It's an ad for gardening supplies. A few things have been circled, like a specific type of soil for orchids and a selection of curved gardening knifes - you're pretty sure those are the knifes you saw in the indoor garden. [[Let's try something else]]

Mr. Sanders' wardrobe is filled with a high variety of clothes. There are a few black suits, simple but well-made, two long coats with fur lining, a bunch of tops and pants in muted colors. A pair of soft grey slippers has been stored at the bottom, right next to a folded stack of plain white shirts. There is also a drawer filled with socks and underwear and a second drawer full of ties and scarves. You run your finger over one of the coats. It feels very warm and cozy. [[Let's try something else]]

There are still some other things to examine. How about... [[Check the dressing table]] [[Check the bedside table]] [[Check the chest of drawers]] [[Check the wardrobe]]

The folder contains a bunch of documents. You find Mr. Sanders birth certificate, several contracts related to his business. a few documents that seem to be college-related, the deed for the mansion... Then you flip a page and there it is: The last will and testament of Benjamin Christopher Sanders. It's a sizable document, But as you read through it, one thing leaps out at you: Every single suspect is mentioned. //To my dear friend Yvette Corbin, I leave my mansion as a whole. Though you live in France, I know that you have planned to find yourself a second home, a place to stay when you grow tired of your surroundings, and I hope that my mansion can be that place for you. I have always valued my home and I know that someone of your taste and talent will take excellent care of it. I also leave you 10% of my fortune. Thank you for letting your walls down for me. To my dear friend Richard Tröger, I leave my precious plant collection. You alone were able to understand my passion for them and it was always a pleasure to spend time with you. I know you will treasue and value these plants just as I did and I am glad to know that they will be given to someone who can appreciate them. To ease your work, you may also take all of my tools and all plant-related literature I own. I also leave you 10% of my fortune. Thank you for every hour you gave me. To my friend and rival Susan Hunter-Smith, I give my company. I can think of no other person I'd trust with my life's work. You and I did not always see eye to eye, but I know that your skill and experience will ensure a future for my name and my workers. You were a fierce competitor, but a good ally as well. Thank you for everything you've done for me. To my accountant and bookkeeper Jonathan Fisher, I give 20% of my fortune - it may as well have been yours all along, seeing how much time you spent taking care of it. Many others would have been led astray by those sums, but you always remained honest. Your hard work made my life so much easier and for that I truly owe you. Thank you for your loyalty. To my doctor Anthony Periwinkle, I give my library. Take the books you wish and do with the rest as you wish - I am sure that many of them will fetch a good price. The lounge in the library is yours as well, I know how much you love it. I also leave you 5% of my fortune. I dare say that your skilled hands have saved my life once or twice. Thank you for taking care of me. To my four domestic workers Alice Edna Carter, Penelope Perks, Robert Jones-Rogers and Enrico Diaz, I give 25% of my fortune to be divided equally among them. All of you were a great help every day and that deserves to be honored. Thank you for all the hard work.// "...Interesting", Deering mumbles. "Do you think any of them knew about this?" "It's possible", you say and pause. "But we already came to the conclusion that this murder was not premeditated." "It might still be a valid motive. Perhaps the killer only found out about this today... or perhaps it was a spur of the moment, but still motivated by greed. I wouldn't dismiss it." No... that is true, dismissing it completely is foolish. [[But what to do with this?]]

An inheritance would make for a potential motive... that is, if the killer knew about this will. Even a small part of Sanders' fortune would be a nice sum. Enough to drive somebody to murder? Now that you have this in hand... perhaps you ought to talk to some other people again. You see no reason to bother with Hunter-Smith, but the others? Now that you know that they all had something to gain from Sanders' demise, another chat might be in order. You'll start with Perks... because there is one thing you faintly recall that bothers you. [[Talk to Perks again]]

"Ms. Perks", you say, "I do have a question for you." She smiles at you. "Sure, no problem. What is it?" "Earlier today, Professor Tröger mentioned your brother. From what he said, it sounded like there was an issue of some kind...?" She frowns. "He had to bring that up, huh?" "So there was an issue?" "Yeah." She sighs. "The reason my brother called me earlier was to ask for money. He used to work here, too... but he only lasted a month before Mr. Sanders kicked him out." You raise a brow. "What happened?" A shrug. "He slacked off is what happened. Didn't feel like doing his job, didn't listen to instructions, didn't show up on time. I think what really did it was when he accidentally doused one of the plants with glass cleaner. We're not supposed to use any chemical cleaners in the indoor garden because they might damage the plants, but he figured nobody would notice. Sanders was //mad//." You grow pale. The sheer thought of damaging one of these plants... "My brother was really upset. I get why, Sanders pays... paid really well and my brother's not good with money." "Is that why he asked you for money?" "Yes. He did eventually find another job, but it doesn't pay much, so he can't always afford rent", she explains. "And every time he's short, he calls me or our mother." She sounds annoyed, but her smile still seems fond. "And do you usually provide that money?" "Duh, he's still my brother. I don't want him to become homeless." The smile fades. "I just wish he'd gotten his act together just this once, you know? Sanders paid well and the job's pretty easy. But no, he had to be an idiot." A sigh. "Still, it kinda sucks. I really don't want him to lose his home. So I guess I'm ponying up the cash... again." You nod slowly. "I see. It must be frustrating." "Yeah... is that what you wanted to know?" "Among other things. Were you aware that you and the other workers will inherit a small part of Mr. Sanders' fortune?" She looks up, surprised. "Huh?! I... seriously?" "Yes. You are mentioned in his will." For a few seconds, she just stares at you. "That... wow. I... no. No, I had no idea!" "Right.... there is one other thing I was wondering: How long have you been working for Mr. Sanders?" She takes a second to think it over. "Uh... about two years, I think? A bit less than that." "Right. So you know the mansion pretty well?" "I'd say so, yes. Why?" "Just a routine question", you say. "Thank you for your cooperation, Ms. Perks." You'll go through the others one by one... [[Talk to Madame Corbin next->Talk to Corbin next]]

Corbin is fiddling with her fingers as you walk up to her. Her whole body is trembling and her forehead is glistening with sweat. "What now!?", she snaps. You immediately raise your hands. "I just wanted to..." "I'm not interested", she hisses. "I didn't do it, I don't know who did it, I told you everything I knew and I need a smoke. Those are the facts and that's all I have to say!" You back off. The woman looks like she's about to murder //you// if you get any closer! "...Right. Sorry for bothering you." The others will be much safer to talk to! You'll just ask Tröger... he might know what Corbin would have answered. [[Talk to Tröger next->talkTröger1]]

"Professor Tröger", you say, nodding to him. "I have just talked to Ms. Perks about her brother's actions." He raises his head. "Oh, that? Yes, it was truly dreadful. That gorgeous pink Philodendron Erubescens doused in agressive chemicals! I shudder to imagine what could have happened, had a more sensitive plant been struck!" He looks genuinely upset at the thought. "Mind you, Ben was very rough with the young man. Not that I have an issue with that! A young man, yes, but certainly old enough to follow simple rules! And really, to be so disrespectful with another man's prized property..." He shakes his head and takes his glasses off to clean them with his shirt, flinching as he does so. "No, he certainly did the right thing by firing that man." "Yes, so I have heard. What about your own collection? Does it compare to that of Mr. Sanders?" "Not even remotely, to be honest", he admits. "I am not poor by any means. In fact, I dare say that I am quite wealthy. But Ben... he could afford plants I could not dare to dream of. Rarities that I could only marvel at. I rarely meet anyone who can match my love for rare plants, so you can imagine how shocked I was when I met someone who surpassed it." Hm... "Professor Tröger... were you aware that Mr. Sanders was intending to leave his collection to you after his death?" "Why, yes. And had I died first, I would have left mine to him. We came to that agreement a long time ago." A sad smile. "Many of our plants are very valuable. So valuable that most people would likely be tempted to sell them. You probably do not understand this, but the thought of somebody plucking my collection apart and selling it to heaven knows who just to satisfy their own greed... that is a nightmare. Ben would have treasured it properly." He sighs, putting his glasses back on and nervously rubbing his wrist. He looks tired. "But I suppose... I will be the one to treasure his now..." You nod slowly. "You said you knew him for 20 years. Did you spend a lot of time here at his mansion?" "Certainly. I live in Germany, you see, but I came to visit frequently and my dear friend always had a place for me to stay. I know this place just as well as my own home." He leans back. "One last question", which technically wasn't meant for him, but oh well, "Madame Corbin is also mentioned in his last will. Do you believe she was aware of it?" He raises a brow at you. "I would be very surprised if she was not. Given that she knew him for almost as long as I have, it never occurred to me that she might not be mentioned." "That's it for now, then. Thank you, Professor." [[Talk to Periwinkle next->talkPeriwinkle1.1]] [[Talk to Fisher next->talkFisher1.1]]

"Dr. Periwinkle. Could I have a second of your time?" "Y-yes, of course", comes the immediate answer. "W-what can I do for you?" "Mr. Sanders' library. Are you familiar with it? Or was today the first time you entered it?" He quickly shakes his head. "Oh, n-no. I've actually spent a lot of time there. This isn't the first time he invited me to a party and... I also sometimes end up there during my free time. Since I am a concierge doctor, I don't need to be at my office all that much - my patients call me when they need me and I come to visit them. So... sometimes, when Mr. Sanders needed me, I'd help him with whatever he'd called me for and then spend some time in the library. He never minded... or if he did, he never said so." Right. "What about the rest of the mansion? Are you familiar with that?" "Uh... not really. I've been to his bedroom a few times, of course, since... w-well, that's where people tend to be when they are sick. But when that happened, my focus was on my patient, not on my surroundings. And other than that... I really only know the library. Sorry." "No, it is alright. Did Sanders call for you often?" "He called when he needed me", Periwinkle says. "Some people, they think that having a doctor on call means they ought to call me for every scratch and bruise, but Sanders only called me when he actually needed me. That said, there was a time where he had... no, that is confidential. There were times when he was seriously ill and required my complete attention. So, uhm, if you're asking if he needed my help more than the average patient... yes." "Confidential?", you echo. "Doctor-patient confidentiality", he confirms. "I can't in good conscience tell you details unless you have a warrant for them. Or can at least prove that it is related to this case." "I see. You take your duty very seriously." "I do." He sounds proud. "It seems that Mr. Sanders thought highly of you as well. Were you aware that you are mentioned in his last will?" His mouth falls open. For a few seconds, he doesn't say a single word. "He... really? He... me? But I'm just..." He cuts himself off, fumbling for words. "That... I can't believe that. H-he actually..." He shakes his head and goes silent. [[Talk to Fisher->talkFisher1.2]]

Mr. Fisher is scratching patterns into the carpet with his crutch when you approach him. "Mr. Fisher", you say. "Could I have your attention for a moment?" "Of course. What is it?" "Regarding your work for Mr. Sanders... did you always work here in his office or did you have an office of your own?" He shakes his head. "I usually worked from home. When Mr. Sanders needed something more complicated, something involving non-digital paperwork, I would come here and work in his office. Sometimes, I would bring my own computer to do so, but I usually used his. He had a second one just in case, but he rarely used it." "I see. So you were here on a regular basis?" "Correct", Fisher confirms. "And when you were here, did you always remain in the office? Or did you ever do work in another part of the mansion?" His forehead creases in confusion. "What? Why would I do that? All the paperwork and equipment I need is stored in the office. What do I care about the rest of the mansion?" "...Right. Were you involved in hiring choices?" He raises his brow at the sudden change in topic. "Hiring choices? No. I did help him budget his worker's wages, but I had no influence on who these workers were." "But you were somewhat involved in the process? Then do you, perhaps, know anything about Ms. Perks' brother?" "...Her brothe... ah. Yes, I do remember. I was not present when it happened, but I did notice that there were suddenly only four people on the payroll instead of five. Mr. Sanders explained the story to me after I asked." "What do you think about it?", you ask and he shrugs. "I think that it was the right decision. Making mistakes is fine, knowingly disregarding simple rules is not. If I had done such a thing, I would have been fired immediately and it would be well deserved." "That's probably true. Given that, do you think Mr. Sanders was happy with your work?" "I'd hope so. I always did my best. And there was never any trouble between me and him - we got along fairly well, I suppose. He was a very rational person and his demands were always reasonable. I do not think he ever complained." You nod. "No, he was indeed very pleased with your work. So pleased, in fact, that he mentioned you in his last will. Were you aware of that, Mr. Fisher?" His eyes widen, surprise glinting in them. "He... no. No, I was not aware of that. He really left me something?" "A quite sizable part of his fortune, I believe", you state. "But... I just did my job." He seems to be at a loss for words. "And Mr. Sanders rewarded you for it", you state, smiling. "That... I don't know what to say..." "You do not have to say anything more, Mr. Fisher. Thank you for answering my questions." [[Now...]]

You've looked around, you've questioned everybody at least twice, you've found several potential motives. There's a theory forming, but you're not 100% certain yet. You find yourself walking down the hallway and pause. Right... the hallway. You haven't had a proper look at that yet... Thick carpet covers the floor. There is a large, white dresser standing right next to the door to the library, another one placed further down the hallway. A few pictures are placed on the wall, most of them showing plants. A quick look into the dressers couldn't hurt. [[Look at the first dresser]] [[Look at the second dresser]]

Deering drops to her knees and reaches out, grabbing something from underneath the dresser. "Knew I saw something!", she says triumphantly and holds the object out to you. It's a knife. An odd type of knife, though. It definitely isn't a kitchen knife. It doesn't really look like a weapon, either. It is curved and the hilt looks sturdy. Survival, maybe? Or a tool? It looks somewhat familiar. The blade is fairly clean, but not sparkling. Less 'carefully cleaned with hot water and dish soap', more 'wiped on a rag'. [[Have it checked for fingerprints]]

Fisher leans onto his crutch when he sees you. "Regarding Mr. Sanders' wealth", you begin, "is it not correct that a large part of his fortune was being stored in a rather... unconventional way?" He looks at you in silence for a moment, pondering your words. Then, a flash of understanding goes over his face. "You mean his plants? Yes, those are worth a lot. But he never considered them to be financial investments. I've worked for him for a while. There were several times when his company was struggling and money got a bit tight, but selling these plants was never an option for him. He didn't care about their monetary worth. Neither does Professor Tröger, I believe. They just... really like plants." He shrugs. "I can't say I understand it. But I respected it and just accepted that these plants were not to be treated as replaceable." "Right... now, I apologize in advance for what I am about to imply, but were you ever tempted? After all, even one of these plants..." "Apology not accepted", he interrupts. "I was his //accountant//. If I'd been willing to steal from him, I could have chosen a more direct way than stealing a plant that is hard to sell and hard to take care of while waiting for it to be sold... not to mention that he'd notice it immediately." "And the value of these plants. Was that something known to the general public?" Fisher opens his mouth to answer... then closes it again. "I... am not certain", he says slowly. "I do think so...?" "You're not certain?", you repeat and he glares at you. "I. Was. His. Accountant", he says very slowly, pronouncing every syllable. "Knowing more about his finances than the general public was //literally// part of my job. Given that simple fact, how am I supposed to know how much the general public knows? Less than me! How much exactly? I don't know!" He... seems slightly agitated. You quickly mumble another apology before stepping away. [[Try Corbin instead->Talk to Corbin again]]

Most of the drawers are completely empty, to the point where you start wondering if they're just for decoration. Eventually, you do find one that has something in it: A box of tacks and some zipties. Another drawer, the one on the far left, holds some batteries and - for whatever reason - a small duck made out of wood. Not exactly what you were hoping for. [[What about the other one?]]

Many drawers are just empty - what is the point of these dressers if there is nothing inside? Are they just here for decoration? There are a few things, such as... a selection of candles in different sizes, including a few that smell of burned almonds for some reason. You find a pack of poker cards, heavily used, and a travel chess set that looks brand new. Another drawer contains a few lightbulbs, still in their original packaging. In other words, nothing of interest. [[What about the other one?->otherone2]]

The second dresser has a bit more stuff in it... but still nothing useful. Small candles, bigger candles, a pack of poker cards, a travel chess set, some lightbulbs. Behind you, Deering has stopped next to the first dresser. "Hang on a second", she says. "I think..." [["Did you find something?"]]

The first dresser is somehow even emptier. You only find two drawers that contain anything at all: One filled with tacks and zipties, the other one full of batteries and - you're not sure why - a small wooden duck. Deering steps a bit closer, then stops right next to you. "Hang on a second", she says. "Oh!" [["Did you find something?"]]

You let your eyes sweep over the group of people. They're all gathered together - 6 people, but only one of them is responsible for Sander's death. Perks is waiting in silence, trying to look calm... and failing, though she likely thinks she's succeeding. Corbin, meanwhile, is... huh. Much calmer, in fact. One of the two police officers that have been guarding the suspects notices your confusion and raises something up... a box of cigarettes. Now where did that come from? Did one of them go and buy them for her? Well, it's probably for the best. At least that way, she'll be able to concentrate. Tröger is staring down at his hands. He's rubbing his wrists, breathing slowly... it's hard to guess what he is thinking. Periwinkle however is pretty obvious, curled up in the corner trying to pretend that he isn't there. Unfortunally for him, you haven't forgotten about him yet. Hunter-Smith has put her phone aside, though her fingers are trembling and she keeps throwing glances at it. Finally, Fisher is waiting calmly, ready to hear what you have to say. You clear your throat and everybody's eyes turn towards you. "One of you", you begin, "has killed a man tonight. Given what I have seen and heard here... there can be no doubt. The killer can only be..." [[Dr. Periwinkle!->AccusePeriwinkle3.1]] [[Madame Corbin!->AccuseCorbin3.1]] [[Mrs. Hunter-Smith!->Accuse Hunter-Smith3.1]] [[Professor Tröger!->AccuseTröger3.1]] [[Ms. Perks!->AccusePerks3.1]] [[Mr. Fisher!->AccuseFisher3.1]] [[Somebody else!->AccuseOther3.1]]

Periwinkle's eyes widen in shock. His mouth opens and closes, unable to form words. Then, finally, he manages: "B-but... but I didn't do it! I was reading, I promise! I never even left the library!" "You say that. But is there anyone who can back up your story?", you ask and he grows pale. Behind you, Deering tilts her head. "I don't know... really? I mean, where would he have gotten the weapon from? What motive would he have? Do you really think he knew about the last will before today?" "He might have!", you argue. She doesn't look convinced. "I don't know. Is there anything to support this?" "He wears gloves. He wouldn't have left fingerprints", you explain, glancing at Periwinkle. "As for the weapon, I am not sure how he got it... and if it's the knife that was hidden in Sanders' clock, he probably didn't know about it... but he got it somehow and he killed Mr. Sanders! He has no alibi!" "...I'm... not sure about it", Deering says. "You've got a more detailed theory than that?" Well... maybe. Now that you're thinking about it... [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation3.1]]

Corbin's face shows surprise... but only for a second. Then she sighs, throws a wistful glance at Perks and smirks at you. "I hate to disappoint you, but the only thing I'll be killing today is your track record. You must have forgotten that I was in my room, searching for cigarettes." "You //claim// that you were in your room searching for cigarettes", you correct her. "But what were you actually doing?" "Uh... I think that IS what she was doing", Deering says softly. "Because based on what we've seen during this investigation, I'd say that her addiction is definitely real. I have a hard time believing that that was just an act... and if it was, she deserves an Oscar." She hesitates, then adds: "Also, why are her fingerprints not on the weapon? On either weapon, I mean?" "Well, she..." Huh. [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation3.1]]

Hunter-Smith looks up, her brows furrowed. "What? I wasn't paying attention. Did you just accuse me? No, can't be, I was working." Deering glares at you, confused. "You know that's true, you checked her timestamps yourself!" "She might have prepared them in advance", you insist. Deering stares at you in open disbelief. "Are you crazy?! We already concluded that this wasn't premeditated! Come on, she's the one person who's basically 100% guaranteed to be innocent!" Oh. Right. That must have slipped your mind. [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation3.1]]

Tröger stares at you. Then, a flicker of genuine hurt goes over his face. "Really? You stand here and accuse me of murdering my friend? Have you forgotten that I was peacefully exploring the indoor garden?" "Yes, you were exploring the indoor garden. But you were far from peaceful", you say with a smirk. "Mr. Sanders' plant collection dwarves yours in both rarity and value and you knew you were set to inherit it after his death." "I would never..." "I do not believe that you came here today with the intention of killing Mr. Sanders", you interrupt him. "Instead, it was a decision made on the spot. I admit, I am not certain what caused it. Perhaps it was simply the fact that being in the garden reminded you of how much you wanted it. Alternatively, it might be related to the plant you accidentally toppled - keeping such a valuable plant on the very edge of a table isn't wise and perhaps you took it as evidence that these plants would be safer in your hands." "How dare you even suggest that!", Corbin hisses at you, eyes filled with fury. "Richard wouldn't dare lay hand on Ben!" "I am very sorry, Madame Corbin. But your friend is not the person you thought he was", you say apologetically. "So what are you saying?! I just decided on a whim to head to the bedroom and stab my friend?" Tröger looks about ready to strangle you by now. "Then why are my fingerprints not on the weapon?!" "Yeah, why aren't they?", Deering asks. You smile at her. "That's a good question, isn't it? But here is an even better one: What weapon exactly was used to kill Mr. Sanders? Was it this knife right here?" You raise the ornate knife found next to the body. "Or... was it perhaps //this// knife?" You pull out the small, curved blade Deering found in the hallway. Tröger grows pale. "T-that is..." "Yes. It took me a moment to recognize it when I first saw it... but this is a gardening knife. There are several others in the indoor garden." "...In the indoor garden, huh...?", Hunter-Smith mumbles to herself, glancing at Tröger. Next to her, Perks nods: "Yes, I recognize that knife, too!" "And? Are my fingerprints on that?!", Tröger demands. "No. But there was something else in the indoor garden... several pairs of gardening gloves. Including one in your size, Professor Tröger, one that had been recently used and was heavily stained. If I were to send these gloves to a laboratory to analyze what they are stained with, what do you believe the answer would be?" "H-how should I know? I only used them to fix the plant I had toppled!", he yells. "But, uh... why are there two knifes?", Periwinkle asks nervously, staring at the weapons in your hand. "If... if the gardening knife was used as the murder weapon, why is the other one coated in blood?" "Yes! That! That is a good question! Answer it!" "Simple. We need to ask: Why did Mr. Sanders have a knife hidden in his bedroom anyway? And the answer is pretty obvious: For self defense. He was a very rich man, an excellent target for burglars and robbers. He wanted to ensure he could defend himself... and he did." There is a gasp from Fisher. "You mean..." "Yes. Sanders was the one who used this quite lovely knife... to defend himself from his attacker! But unfortunally for him, he failed... though not without doing some damage." Tröger is starting to sweat. "That put you in a rather tough spot, Tröger. That knife now had your blood on it, meaning that you would have been discovered immediately. However, you had an admittingly rather smart idea: You took the knife Sanders had used and plunged it into his open chest wound. By doing so, you covered it in his blood, ensuring that yours could no longer be analyzed properly. Then, you simply left it there, thus tricking us into assuming that it was the weapon that had killed Sanders. As for the gardening knife that had actually killed him... you hid it under the dresser in the hallway, hoping that nobody would search such an unassuming place." "T-that... none of that is true!", Tröger gasps, his fingers clutching onto his suit jacket. "No? Then I have good news for you: My conclusion can be disproven very easily. After all, it relies on the assumption that Mr. Sanders managed to cut his attacker", you say with a smile. "The attacker would therefore have an incision somewhere on their body. On an completely unrelated note, you have been rubbing your wrist all day, Professor. Are you alright?" You didn't think Tröger could get even paler, but he does. "I... I..." "Richard. Show them your wrist and end this nonsense", Corbin says. "This is ridiculous!" But Tröger doesn't move and her annoyed expression fades into one of horror. "You... no. No! Tell me this isn't true!" "Professor Tröger, please show us your wrist", Deering commands. Tröger's hands are trembling. He reaches up to his sleeve and stops. "You... I... You know what?! FINE!!" With one swift move, he pushes up his sleeve... ...revealing a deep cut on his wrist. [[And thus...->End3.1]]

Perks gasps and raises her hands. "Woah, woah! Hang on a moment! I was in the office cleaning! It wasn't me!" "It is true that you entered the office eventually to clean... but before that, you killed Mr. Sanders!", you declare. "Wait. But then why aren't her fingerprints on the weapon? She doesn't have gloves", Deering points out. You shrug. "She could have wiped them. And she knows the mansion well enough - she could have known about the knife in Mr. Sanders bedroom!" "...Okay, that last part is true", Deering concedes. "But we already concluded that the knifes weren't wiped... neither one of them." "She might have gotten gloves from somewhere", you argue. "She's a cleaner! They might have disposable gloves!" "//Might have// is not the same thing as// does have//, though. Is there any actual, you know... evidence?" Why does she have to ruin your beautiful theories with her stupid demands? [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation3.1]]

Fisher looks at you with utter confusion, seemingly waiting for you to take it back. When you don't do so, he slowly raises one hand. "So. You're going to ignore the fact that I was working in the office?" "Sorry, Fisher, but that won't cut it", you state. "According to your time stamps, you could have killed Sanders... you could have easily reached the bedroom if you had hurried a little." For a few seconds, nobody speaks. Obviously, they've been silenced by your genius. Then, Deering speaks up: "If he... //hurried//... a little?" "Yeah. Like, from the office to the master bedroom. It's not exactly short and his last time stamp //was// shortly before the time of the murder, but if he rushed..." "If he rushed!? He has a //crutch//!", Deering yells, cutting you off mid-sentence. ... He... does. [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation3.1]]

Whelp. That was embarrassing. You clear your throat and try to look like nothing happened. "Ahem. As I was saying, the killer is..." [[Dr. Periwinkle!->AccusePeriwinkle3.1]] [[Madame Corbin!->AccuseCorbin3.1]] [[Mrs. Hunter-Smith!->Accuse Hunter-Smith3.1]] [[Professor Tröger!->AccuseTröger3.1]] [[Ms. Perks!->AccusePerks3.1]] [[Mr. Fisher!->AccuseFisher3.1]] [[Somebody else!->AccuseOther3.1]]

Unfortunally, the knife comes back clean. No fingerprints on it... not even a hint. But a closer look reveals that the hilt is somewhat dirty... in other words, while the blade was recently wiped, the hilt was not. Furthermore, there are faint traces of blood still on the blade... though unfortunally, there isn't enough to figure out who it belongs to. Even if there was, it would take a lot of time. But two knifes? Which one of them is the murder weapon?! And then, as you look at that knife wondering where exactly you have seen it... The realization sinks in. Yes! And that right there, that was the final piece of the puzzle! You know who killed Mr. Sanders and you'll confront them here and now. [[It's time...->It'sTime3.1]]

After Tröger revealed his injury, he confessed in full. It seems that the plants he desired so much will not be given to him after all - from what you have seen, that likely hurt him worse than having to go to prison. While he is sitting behind bars, botanists and plant lovers all over the world are leaping at this opportunity to get their hands on Sanders' collection. You doubt it'll take long before they are all sold... and Tröger won't be getting a single leaf. Corbin returned to France... quite distraught, from what you have heard. But can you blame her? In one night, she has lost two of her closest friends. She certainly won't lift a finger to help Tröger now that she knows what kind of man he really is. Hunter-Smith has taken over Sanders' company and seems to be doing great so far. There were a bunch of interviews and from what you have gathered, she is looking at a bright future. It must be a lot of work, but you have the sneaking suspicion that she considers that a bonus. You're not really sure about Periwinkle, but it is probably safe to assume that he returned to his normal life and is aiding his other patients. Fisher has returned to his normal life as well. He has lost one of his best clients, but he didn't seem to be worried about that. When you asked, he told you that he's always in high demand and that he might even start working for Hunter-Smith now. You actually see Perks quite frequently, because she now works at the cafe right next to the precinct. She has already memorized your coffee order and Deering swears that the room has never looked cleaner. And as for you and Deering? Well, the next case already awaits. Though you do wonder every once in a while... Could things have gone differently? What if... [[Yes, what if?->Begin]]

"Dr. Periwinkle. Could I have a moment?", you ask. Periwinkle nods. "How can I help you?" "I just had a look at the library. It's quite impressive", you state. Periwinkle's face brightens up. "Oh! Yes, it's great! It always calms me down. So quiet, and the smell of books..." "So you were there frequently?" "Well... yes. I, uh... this isn't the first time he invited me to a party. Also, since I am a concierge doctor, I don't need to be at my office all that much - my patients call me when they need me and I come to visit them. So... sometimes, when Mr. Sanders needed me, I'd help him with whatever he'd called me for and then spend some time in the library. He never minded... or if he did, he never said so." He bites his lip. "He, uh, you don't... do you think he did mind...?" "I am afraid I cannot answer that. What about the rest of the mansion? Are you familiar with that?" "Uh... not really?" "What precisely does that mean?", you press. "Well, I know his bedroom fairly well, of course, since... I mean, that's where people tend to be when they are sick... but other than that, I really only know the library." "I see... was Sanders a complicated patient? Were there ever any issues between you and him?" "He called when he needed me", Periwinkle says. "Some people, they think that having a doctor on call means they ought to call me for every scratch and bruise, but Sanders only called me when he actually needed me. So, uh, that was one point in his favour. "And other than that?", you ask. He raises a brow. "Uh... are you asking me to break doctor-patient confidentiality!?" "No, of course not. I just want to know if there were ever any issues between the two of you", you assure him. He visibly relaxes. "No", he answers. "We got along well. I, uh, I did my job and he never complained." Alright... "Thank you, Dr. Periwinkle..." [[Talk to Ms. Perks]]

"Back already?", Perks asks, one brow raised. "Yes. I do have a few more questions. For starters, what equipment did you have with you while cleaning?" "Uh... I had a hand broom... a feather duster... a few rags... various types of cleaner...", she lists, "uhm... I think that was it. We cleaned the floors earlier, before the party started, so I didn't have anything for that." "Is that really everything?" "The cops took my stuff when they showed up. I don't know where they put it, but I'm sure they'll tell you about it", she says. Deering nods. "Yes, hang on..." She heads over to one of the two police officers who are watching the suspects. She returns a few moments later. "Alright. One hand broom plus shovel, a feather duster, four cleaning rags, a scrubbing brush. Also two kinds of all-purpose cleaner and two types of glass cleaner." "Right, I forgot about the scrubbing brush", Perks confirms, smiling awkwardly. "Why do you need different types of cleaner?", you ask. "Wouldn't one kind of all-purpose cleaner and one kind of glass cleaner be enough?" "No, no, we're not allowed to use any chemical cleaners in the indoor garden!", she says quickly. "That's a firing offense! It's what my brother got fired for." Her brother used to work here, too? "Actually... yes, I believe that Professor Tröger mentioned something about that earlier. What precisely happened?" "He accidentally spilled some glass cleaner", she says. "Guess he figured nobody would notice. Sanders was //mad//." She sighs. "He only worked here for a month. He's got a different job now, but it doesn't pay much, so my brother... he can't always afford rent. And when he's short, he calls me. Or our mother, sometimes." "Is that why he called you today? To ask for money?" "Yep." She sounds annoyed, but her smile still seems fond. "He's getting it, too. he's still my brother. I don't want him to become homeless." The smile fades. "It kinda sucks. I really don't want him to lose his home. So I guess I'm ponying up the cash... again. But I have to admit, ever since Sanders fired him, things have been going sideways for me." Right... Somehow, accidentally spilling cleaner on a plant does not sound like... what did Tröger call it? //That mess//? Though then again, Tröger is extremely fond of plants... he might not be the most objective person here. Still, perhaps you ought to ask him about it... later. First, a chat with Dr. Periwinkle is in order. [[Talk to Dr. Periwinkle]]

Tröger looks up at you and smiles. "Professor Tröger. I just talked to Ms. Perks and... I was wondering if you could help me with something." "But of course. What is it?" "Could you tell me a little more about that... mess with her brother?" His expression darkens instantly. It's almost shocking how quickly he goes from a sad but sincere smile to scowling. "Right. //That//." "So you know what I mean. Please tell me everything." "Well, I spend quite a lot of time here. I know all of the workers. And that man was, apologize my rudeness, a terrible worker in every way. He was lazy, he was stubborn, he never arrived on time and was incapable of following even the most simple instructions. That last part was what got him fired. And well deserved, if I may add!" "I was told he accidentally spilled some glass cleaner", you note and he scoffs. "Accidentally? Tell me, is it an accident when somebody purposely uses an agressive chemical instead of the plant-safe natural cleaner they were clearly told to use? Is it an accident when that someone did so only because they were too lazy to head downstairs and fetch the proper cleaner? Is it an accident when that someone then proceeds to spray the windows, knowing fully well that there is a valuable plant standing right there on the windowsill and not even taking three seconds to move it?! That is not an accident, that is negligence. And Ben had no use for a negligent worker!" It certainly sounded much less severe when Perks told it, but you already expected that. "You seem to be agitated." "Of course I am agitated! The sheer thought of that beautiful pink Philodendron Erubescens covered in dangerous chemicals makes me want to weep!" "A pink... Philodendron Erubescens", you repeat, struggling a bit to pronounce it. "Is that a valuable plant?" "It is not worth that much", Tröger says and you're ready to reply when he adds: "I do believe the one Ben owns is worth... 1600 dollar or so? Certainly not a lot compared to the others." ... O... kay... "How... how much are the others worth?" "Oh, it varies. Some of the Monsteras are worth 20,000 and more, the orchids are rather valuable, too... ah, and of course the bonsais, few things are as valuable as a well-loved bonsai." And Sanders had such a fortune right here, just like that?! It seems that you ought to have a closer look at that indoor garden! [[Explore the Indoor Garden]]

"Back already?", Perks asks, one brow raised. "Yes. I do have a few more questions. For starters, what equipment did you have with you while cleaning?" "Uh... I had a hand broom... a feather duster... a few rags... various types of cleaner...", she lists, "uhm... I think that was it. We cleaned the floors earlier, before the party started, so I didn't have anything for that." "Is that really everything?" "The cops took my stuff when they showed up. I don't know where they put it, but I'm sure they'll tell you about it", she says. Deering nods. "Yes, hang on..." She heads over to one of the two police officers who are watching the suspects. She returns a few moments later. "Alright. One hand broom plus shovel, a feather duster, four cleaning rags, a scrubbing brush. Also two kinds of all-purpose cleaner and two types of glass cleaner." "Right, I forgot about the scrubbing brush", Perks confirms, smiling awkwardly. "Why do you need different types of cleaner?", you ask. "Wouldn't one kind of all-purpose cleaner and one kind of glass cleaner be enough?" "No, no, we're not allowed to use any chemical cleaners in the indoor garden!", she says quickly. "That's a firing offense! It's what my brother got fired for." Her brother used to work here, too? "Actually... yes, I believe that Professor Tröger mentioned something about that earlier. What precisely happened?" "He accidentally spilled some glass cleaner", she says. "Guess he figured nobody would notice. Sanders was //mad//." She sighs. "He only worked here for a month. He's got a different job now, but it doesn't pay much, so my brother... he can't always afford rent. And when he's short, he calls me. Or our mother, sometimes." "Is that why he called you today? To ask for money?" "Yep." She sounds annoyed, but her smile still seems fond. "He's getting it, too. he's still my brother. I don't want him to become homeless." The smile fades. "It kinda sucks. I really don't want him to lose his home. So I guess I'm ponying up the cash... again. But I have to admit, ever since Sanders fired him, things have been going sideways for me." Right. Spilling cleaner doesn't sound all that bad, though. Surely this kind of mistake happens? It certainly doesn't deserve to be called 'that mess' or whatever Tröger called it. Perhaps you ought to ask him? But first, a chat with Dr. Periwinkle is in order. [[Talk to Dr. Periwinkle->askPeriwinkle3.1]]

"Back already?", Perks asks, one brow raised. "Yes. I do have a few more questions. For starters, what equipment did you have with you while cleaning?" "Uh... I had a hand broom... a feather duster... a few rags... various types of cleaner...", she lists, "uhm... I think that was it. We cleaned the floors earlier, before the party started, so I didn't have anything for that." "Is that really everything?" "The cops took my stuff when they showed up. I don't know where they put it, but I'm sure they'll tell you about it", she says. Deering nods. "Yes, hang on..." She heads over to one of the two police officers who are watching the suspects. She returns a few moments later. "Alright. One hand broom plus shovel, a feather duster, four cleaning rags, a scrubbing brush. Also two kinds of all-purpose cleaner and two types of glass cleaner." "Right, I forgot about the scrubbing brush", Perks confirms, smiling awkwardly. "Why do you need different types of cleaner?", you ask. "Wouldn't one kind of all-purpose cleaner and one kind of glass cleaner be enough?" "No, no, we're not allowed to use any chemical cleaners in the indoor garden!", she says quickly. "That's a firing offense! It's what my brother got fired for." Her brother used to work here, too? "Actually... yes, I believe that Professor Tröger mentioned something about that earlier. What precisely happened?" "He accidentally spilled some glass cleaner", she says. "Guess he figured nobody would notice. Sanders was //mad//." She sighs. "He only worked here for a month. He's got a different job now, but it doesn't pay much, so my brother... he can't always afford rent. And when he's short, he calls me. Or our mother, sometimes." "Is that why he called you today? To ask for money?" "Yep." She sounds annoyed, but her smile still seems fond. "He's getting it, too. he's still my brother. I don't want him to become homeless." The smile fades. "It kinda sucks. I really don't want him to lose his home. So I guess I'm ponying up the cash... again. But I have to admit, ever since Sanders fired him, things have been going sideways for me." Right. Spilling cleaner doesn't sound all that bad, though. Surely this kind of mistake happens? It certainly doesn't deserve to be called 'that mess' or whatever Tröger called it. Perhaps you ought to ask him? [[Let's do that, then->askTröger3]]

Tröger looks up at you and smiles. "Professor Tröger. I just talked to Ms. Perks and... I was wondering if you could help me with something." "But of course. What is it?" "Could you tell me a little more about that... mess with her brother?" His expression darkens instantly. It's almost shocking how quickly he goes from a sad but sincere smile to scowling. "Right. //That//." "So you know what I mean. Please tell me everything." "Well, I spend quite a lot of time here. I know all of the workers. And that man was, apologize my rudeness, a terrible worker in every way. He was lazy, he was stubborn, he never arrived on time and was incapable of following even the most simple instructions. That last part was what got him fired. And well deserved, if I may add!" "I was told he accidentally doused a plant with glass cleaner", you note and he scoffs. "Accidentally? Tell me, is it an accident when somebody purposely uses an agressive chemical instead of the plant-safe natural cleaner they were clearly told to use? Is it an accident when that someone did so only because they were too lazy to head downstairs and fetch the proper cleaner? Is it an accident when that someone then proceeds to spray the windows, knowing fully well that there is a valuable plant standing right there on the windowsill and not even taking three seconds to move it?! That is not an accident, that is negligence. And Ben had no use for a negligent worker!" It certainly sounded much less severe when Perks told it, but you already expected that. "You seem to be agitated." "Of course I am agitated! The sheer thought of that beautiful pink Philodendron Erubescens covered in dangerous chemicals makes me want to weep!" "A pink... Philodendron Erubescens", you repeat, struggling a bit to pronounce it. No doubt a valuable plant. "How much is it worth?" "Not that much", Tröger says and you're ready to reply when he adds: "I do believe the one Ben owns is worth... 1600 dollar or so? Certainly not a lot compared to the others." It sounds like a lot to you. But Tröger is the expert here, not you. Perks called it an accident and seemed to be upset about the consequences. Tröger calls it negligence and thinks that the consequences are reasonable. But Perks is biased because the culprit is her brother and Tröger is biased because of his love for plants. It seems that you need a neutral opinion if you want to continue this. Somebody with no personal interest in the issue, but still aware of it. [[Madame Corbin might know something.]] [[Mr. Fisher might know something.]]

You open the door to the indoor garden... and are blown away. The room is filled to the brim with... plants. Large plants, small plants, tall plants, fat plants, colorful plants, drab plants, smelly plants, ugly plants, pretty plants, simple plants, exotic plants, flowering plants, thorny plants. There are thousands of them and no two are the same. And you? You recognize a grand total of zero of them. That over there might be a fern. No, wait. This one is definitely some kind of bonsai! They are placed on tables, hung from the ceiling, placed on the walls, standing in the corner. You feel like you are standing in a forest. If you were an expert, like Professor Tröger, you'd likely be able to spend weeks marvelling at these plants. You reach out for a small flower that resembles an orchid, but then you remember what Tröger said about their value and quickly draw your hand back. You are very careful as you move through the room, trying your best not to touch any of the plants - one wrong move would be enough to push one of the smaller ones off the tables and apparently that would have some awful consequences for your bank account. There is one single table without plants on it. That one is instead filled with various gardening tools, such as large gardening shears, curved gardening knifes, small spades and an expensive-looking water gauge. There are also several watering cans and a plant mister. A half-empty bag of soil is stored under the table, a smaller bag of soil meant for orchids is lying next to it. There is a small box filled with various bags of fertilizer. There is a row of hooks on the wall behind the table. On these hooks are several pairs of gardening gloves. One of them is coated in a thin layer of dirt. You take them and take a closer look at them... they are a bit larger than the other pairs. It seems that these are a bigger size. Taking another look around, you realize that there is some dirt on the floor near one of the potted plants in the corner. The rest of the floor is spotless. Strange... you wonder when it was last cleaned... and what happened to make it dirty. [[Ask Professor Tröger->AskTrögerplant]] [[Ask Ms. Perks->askPerksplant]]

You step up to Professor Tröger again and he gives you another sad smile. "How can I help you this time?", he asks. "I noticed that there was some soil on the floor of the indoor garden", you explain. "The rest of the room was spotless. Do you know what happened?" He blushes a bit. "Oh dear... yes, that was in fact my fault. Do you remember when I mentioned that I left the garden once to talk to poor Ben?" You do indeed remember that. "Well, the reason I went to talk to him was that I had accidentally toppled over one of the plants", he confesses. "And his pine tree bonsai, of all things. Do you have any idea how much that tree is worth?" You shake your head. It's a bonsai, right? He said those were valuable... "That particular tree is worth almost two hundred thousand dollar! And it is centuries old! I would not have been able to live with myself, had my carelessness destroyed it!" //Two hundred thousand dollar for one plant?!// You can't blame Tröger for looking nervous - the sheer thought of bumping into that makes you sweaty! He seems to notice your disbelief, because he chuckles. "Yes... I was certainly nervous when I went to confess. But Ben was quite understanding of my mistake and told me it would be alright as long as I cleaned it up and made sure the plant was not damaged." You glance down at Tröger's hands. He's rubbing his wrist, a nervous tic maybe? They are larger than those of Mr. Sanders. If he cleaned up that soil and straightened out the plant, those gloves might very well be his. "And if you cleaned up, why was there still soil on the ground?" "I could not find a broom and I did not want to bother Ben again. I figured I would simply ask one of the cleaners if they could give me one later." You nod. "Thank you, Professor Tröger." Two hundred thousand dollars for one plant. You cannot believe it. What a treasure Sanders had sitting in his home! How much might the other plants be worth? "You are more than welcome", he tells you. That whole thing with Perks' brother... Perks called it an accident and seemed to be upset about the consequences. Tröger calls it negligence and thinks that the consequences are reasonable. But Perks is biased because the culprit is her brother and Tröger is biased because of his love for plants. It seems that you need a neutral opinion if you want to continue this. Somebody with no personal interest in the issue, but still aware of it. [[Madame Corbin might know something.]] [[Mr. Fisher might know something.]]

The way Corbin looks at you when you approach her is nothing short of terrifying. You're reminded of those cartoons where the starving castaways start seeing each other as steaks and roast turkeys - the look in her eyes suggests that she sees a giganting wandering cigarette. "What?", she snaps. "...I'm afraid I need to ask you for some minor information", you begin. "Namely, about Ms. Perks brother, who was fired for damaging one of the plants. I'm afraid both Professor Tröger nor Ms. Perks are biased." She gives a dry laugh. "Oh, they are. But I'll have to take Richard's side here. That boy had no regard for rules. He was lazy as can be, and wanted shortcuts for everything. Ben was a forgiving man most of the time, but he wasn't stupid, either. Once it became clear that the brat wasn't going to shape up, he had to leave. I would have done the same thing." "So he really did destroy a valuable plant, then? Not by accident, but on purpose?", you confirm and she presses her lip together. "On purpose? No. He didn't walk in there with the intention of pouring cleaner over a plant. But fact is that it happened because he knowingly ignored a very simple rule that he'd been told about multiple times." She crosses her arms. "Is that it now? Right now I'm not interested in anything that doesn't contain at least 15 milligrams of nicotine." "...No, I think that's it. Thank you for your help, Madame Corbin." It seems that Perks' brother was fired for good reason - though you also cannot fault her for being upset about it, given that she's now stuck paying his rent on a regular basis. That might be good to know later... right now, however, you have different things to worry about. Perhaps another look at some of the rooms might be in order? [[Check the bedroom]] [[Check the hallway]] [[Check Corbin's room]] [[Check the office]]

You catch Fisher on his phone, idly scrolling through some text file. When he notices you, he puts it away and turns his attention to you. "Yes?" "...I'm afraid I need to ask you for some minor information", you begin. "Namely, about Ms. Perks brother, who was fired for damaging one of the plants. I'm afraid both Professor Tröger nor Ms. Perks are biased." "Oh, that? Yes, I remember. I only met the boy once before he got fired. Can't say I liked him. He was cleaning the office, but, well, I've seen toddlers do a more diligent job. I do not think it was incompetence, just plain laziness. And from what I heard, he had a tendency to do as little work as possible." "Do you think Mr. Sanders was justified in firing him?" "Oh, absolutely. I worked for Sanders for a long time. I know how he treats his employees and he is //not// harsh. Nobody here gets fired for a minor accident. From what I'd been told, the boy damaged a valuable plant by using the wrong cleaner. I know Sanders instructed him, and even if he hadn't, all domestic helpers here get a small booklet containing the basic rules. 'No agressive chemicals in the indoor garden' is at the very top of that list. No, he refused to follow simple orders and he didn't do his job properly. It was more than justified." He taps his crutch on the floor. "No reason to waste wages on somebody like that. It seems that Perks' brother was fired for good reason - though you also cannot fault her for being upset about it, given that she's now stuck paying his rent on a regular basis. That might be good to know later... right now, however, you have different things to worry about. Perhaps another look at some of the rooms might be in order? [[Check the bedroom]] [[Check the hallway]] [[Check Corbin's room]] [[Check the office]]

Perks is all ears when you approach her. "How can I help?" "We found a letter in Mr. Sanders office", you begin. "An accusation, though we unfortunally do not know who is being accused and of what. Mr. Fisher claimed that it was business and refused to tell us more about it. Are you aware of any misdeeds related to Mr. Sanders business?" She blinks. "I... his business? Sorry, but I'm just a cleaner. I don't know all that much about his job. He seemed somewhat stressed recently, but I don't know if that's related. Maybe you should ask Corbin and Tröger, they'll definitely know if something was going on with Sanders. Or ask Hunter-Smith. If there's one thing that woman knows about, it's business." Right. That didn't help much, but fortunally, there are other options. [[Ask Hunter-Smith->AskHunter-Smith1]] [[Ask Tröger->AskTröger1]] [[Ask Corbin->AskCorbin1]]

Corbin eyes you with suspicion when you approach her again. "What is it now?" "Madame Corbin", you begin, "we've been told that some of Mr. Sanders' private data has gone public recently. What can you tell us about that?" Almost immediately, her expression darkens. "//Do not remind me!//", she hisses. The tone she uses is interesting: Most people would reserve it for words like //scum// or //vermin//. ""He'd been complaining. About. About his private data. How they. How other people. Keep getting them. Private things, like... like information about his finances and, and access to his bank account. And I told him, there is something going on. Stuff like this doesn't just magically become public knowledge!" She clenches her fists. "There are so many people involved in this stuff and one of them, I'm telling you now, one of them has been going behind Ben's back. I told him to check them all, figure out who it might be. He just shrugged it off! As if it was a silly idea! I'm asking you now, is that a silly idea?" "It isn't", you agree. "It's perfectly reasonable. How was his relationship to his workers and subordinates? Do you think he had any suspicions?" She rolls her eyes. "He was convinced that they were all good, honest people. Wonderful boss, except I suppose some people take that as an invitation. Probably the reason he didn't want to consider that I might be right - didn't like the idea that one of his precious employees might have betrayed him." She shrugs. "He's too nice for his own good, really. Well... //was// to nice for his own good, I suppose..." She stares down at her feet, sighs and pulls a box of cigarettes from her bag. "Mind if I head to the balcony for a moment?" Well, she did just give you some rather interesting information. "Fine, as long as the two of us can supervise you." "Acceptable, I suppose." She takes you to the balcony, where she digs through her bag for a moment. After a few seconds, she groans. "Do you have a lighter?" Deering pulls one from her pocket and hands it over. Corbin takes it with a barely perceptable nod. "Mine broke this morning", she explains as she hands it back. You barely pay attention. Instead, you look over at Deering and she looks back at you. The letter is tied to the murder and you both know it. But how to prove it? [[Brainstorm with Deering]] [[Take a closer look at the letter]] [[Check the office again]]

The office certainly seems like the obvious spot to search. After all, that's where you found the letter. By now, you are almost certain that this letter was written by Mr. Sanders and adressed to the data thief... whoever that might be. Fisher seems like the obvious choice, but if the obvious solution were always the correct one, there wouldn't be much use for detectives like you. ...Still, he definitely knows more than he lets on. But even if he is the thief, that hardly makes him a murderer. It just... Ugh. The smoke coming from Corbin makes it near impossible to concentrate. Not only does it make it hard to breathe, but it catches your attention for some reason... something bothers you about it and you don't know what. ...Something else that bothers you is the murder weapon. You still have no clue what that could be. A blunt object of some kind, but what exactly and where is it now? Anyway. The office. But that place is such a mess and you don't even know what you are looking for. You might end up wasting hours searching only to come up empty-handed. Maybe you could take Fisher along. He may be unwilling to talk, but body language is a treacherous thing. [[Visit the office with Mr. Fisher]]

You turn to Deering. Before you open your mouth, you quickly go over the things you're about to say - anything Corbin shouldn't hear? But it all seems pretty simple so far. "I think we can be reasonably certain that this letter was meant for the data thief", you say. "And most likely written by Mr. Sanders." "It does sound like Ben", Corbin says from behind you. "He probably hoped that this could be solved peacefully..." She hisses. It creates a cloud of grey smoke and something about that bothers you... but you can't figure out why. "And to think that he might have been murdered for that!" "Hey, we don't know that", Deering quickly says. "A willingness to steal does not equate a willingness to kill." You nod slowly. Still, you have to admit that this thief, whoever it might be, sounds like the obvious suspect. You just wonder how they did it. "You didn't find a murder weapon, correct?", you ask. Deering nods. "Correct, unfortunally. Our only guess so far is that it must have been a blunt object. A club of some kind, but we haven't found anything that would be suitable for that purpose." ...Part of you wants to visit the office again. But you remember how messy it was. Finding anything of use in there could easily take hours, maybe days - if there is anything useful to find. Although... maybe you could take Fisher along. He may be unwilling to talk, but body language is a treacherous thing. [[Visit the office with Mr. Fisher]]

You pull the letter from your pocket. Behind you, you hear the rustling of fabric as Corbin blatantly peeks over your shoulder. //Did you really think I'd just let this happen? I cannot believe you've sunk so low. Rest assured, this will not stay between the two of us. Consider this your last chance to confess.// Written by Mr. Sanders, directed at the data thief? Most likely. But why not simply call the police? Why not simply talk to them directly? And was Mr. Fisher the intended recipent or did he just stumble upon it? ...His behaviour suggests the former. But that alone does not make him a murderer. Plus, there is the issue of the murder weapon to solve... there has to be some kind of heavy object around that could be used to clobber someone. But Deering said they didn't find anything... A cloud of smoke surrounds you as Corbin sighs quietly. It's enough to take your breath away and you cough helplessly for a few seconds. Something about the smoke bothers you, something other than the obvious fact that it's currently in your lungs. You turn the letter in your hands. It's written in a simple font, plain black ink on white paper. An analysis would show what printer it came from, but you don't think that will be necessary. You don't care where it came from - you care about who it was going to. ...Perhaps another look at the office will help you. Though considering the mess in there... you doubt it. Although... Maybe you could take Fisher along. He may be unwilling to talk, but body language is a treacherous thing. [[Visit the office with Mr. Fisher]]

You wait as Corbin finishes her cigarette. Finally, you turn to escort her back to the saloon and fetch Fisher... but that's when it hits you. The thing that bothered you about her cigarette smoke! "Madame Corbin? Did you say that your lighter broke this morning?" "Hm? Ah. Oui", she says, though you can tell she's barely paying attention to you. A curious statement. And to think, you almost missed it! "Yet you had a smoke on this balcony here at the time of the crime. How did you light that?" She stops moving and stares down at the ashtray as if she'd never seen one before. "...Huh", she says. "That is a very good question. What was it again...?" A few seconds pass. Then she snaps her fingers. "Ah! Yes, of course! Richard did not have one, but I knew that the doctor was reading in the library! I asked him for assistance and he fortunally carried a box of matches!" Dr. Periwinkle? He doesn't seem like a smoker, but perhaps he carries them for some other reason. Stray jack-o'-lanterns or something like that. Anyway! Time to fetch Mr. Fisher! [[Visit the office with Mr. Fisher->Office&Fisher]]

Fisher seems less than happy about following you to the office. He also sticks to his right to remain silent, not saying a word as he trails after you, with Deering in the back to keep an eye on him. Once you reach the office, he wordlessly leans against the wall and watches you silently. His face shows no emotion whatsoever. He'd be a great poker player, but you're not in the mood for games. Right now, you need to figure out a way to make him crack and talk... because there is definitely something to talk about. [[Accuse him of stealing data]] [[Dig through the paperwork]] [[Ponder out loud and watch his body language]] [[Ask him if he knows anything about the data stealing]]

You see no reason to pull your punches. "Mr. Fisher. I have no doubt that you are aware of this, but somebody has been passing Mr. Sanders data to his competitors - data such as financial details and his bank information. Data that would be known only to a select few people. You, Mr. Fisher, are one of those people." He says nothing. "Do you understand what I am insinuating?" Again, no reply. "You are of course aware that such a thing is extremely illegal. If you have any idea who is responsible for this, I'd advise you to tell me now", you say, altering your tactic a little. He raises a brow, but remains silent. "...I see." It's rare to find somebody who understands his right to remain silent as well as Mr. Fisher does. Now, you're normally in favour of laws and rights, but right now, it's rather bothersome. Surely there has to be something you can say to make him talk?! [[Ask about his relationship with Sanders]] [[Ask about Mr. Sanders' business in general]] [[Try changing the topic completely]]

You return to the desk and flip through some of the paperwork, especially the files close to where you found the letter. Deering joins in, opening a folder and reading through it with a cocked brow. She looks genuinely intrigued, so either she has some talent for accounting that you were previously unaware of or she is a better actress than you expected. You give it your best shot as well, trying hard to look like this random contract you're holding contains something of great importance. Fisher looks slightly amused, but that's about it. [[Ponder out loud and watch his body language]] [[Accuse him of stealing data]] [[Ask him if he knows anything about the data stealing]]

"I just wish we knew where the murder weapon is", you tell Deering. To her credit, she immediately understands what you are trying to do and joins in. "That is the big question. But we are bound to find it eventually. The mansion might be large, but it can be searched thoroughly. It's in here somewhere." You glance at Fisher from the corner of your eye. He shifts a little, which gets your hopes up, but you quickly realize that he's only shifting his weight to lean onto his crutch. It seems to be more about comfort than anything, though - not pain or trouble staying upright. Otherwise, you might have offered him the office chair. That's the thing, though. If it is Fisher, wouldn't the crutch get in the way? Or did he put it aside. He can stand without it, so that's an option... But for now, it seems that you will need to be more... direct. [[Ask him if he knows anything about the data stealing]] [[Accuse him of stealing data]]

"Mr. Fisher, you are probably aware of this, but somebody has been passing Mr. Sanders data to his competitors - data such as financial details and his bank information. Can you tell us anything about that?" He pressed his lips together, seems to be gauging your intentions. Then he shrugs, nearly dropping his crutch. "There are a few people who have access to some of his data. The man owned a pretty big company, after all. I may be his primary accountant, but I can't do everything all by myself." Another shrug. "That said, he never implied that he suspected any of us. That woman, Corbin, she pushed him to have a closer look. She's a bit of a... well, I don't want to be rude. I can't say I'm fond of her." "How did Sanders respond to her demands?" He smirks. "He was upset by the insinuations. Although he did end up questioning a few people." Strange... that does not sound like he was one of those people. "Did he not question you?" "No. That was shortly after my accident and he had the good grace not to further stress an injured man." He glares at you. "You could learn a thing or two from him." Right now, you're more interested in learning a thing or two from Fisher. At least you got him to talk... but you doubt he'll be willing to talk about the letter. So what else do you have that might be interesting? [[Ask about his relationship with Sanders]] [[Ask about Mr. Sanders' business in general]] [[Try changing the topic completely]]

"What about your personal relationship with Sanders? Did you get along well?" For a moment, he hesitates. But then he replies: "He was a good boss, if that's what you mean. I wouldn't call him a friend. Our relationship was always strictly about work." "Are you sure about that?", Deering throws in. "He did invite you to a party." "He invites everybody to parties. As far as I am concerned, he was my employer. An eccentric one perhaps, but still no more than that." You wonder if Sanders would have agreed with that assessment. "It must have been a difficult job, doing the accounting for somebody this wealthy. I seem to recall that Sanders was known for being a big spender." He laughs. It's dry and fairly emotionless. "That is true. Between his parties and his plants, he must have spent millions over time. If he'd saved up a little more, he could have died a billionaire. But I suppose I shouldn't complain. A less generous man probably wouldn't have paid for this." He raises his crutch a little. "He paid your medical bills?" "He did", Fisher confirmed. "He was always good for that sort of thing. It's why I don't think any of his employees disliked him. He trusted us, he made sure we were alright and he paid well." It's hard to believe that somebody might choose to betray the trust of such a man. It's even harder to believe that somebody might choose to kill him. But fact is that that has happened... and as you look at Mr. Fisher, something clicks into place. Of course... how did you overlook that?! You know what happened here. It's time to end this. [[It's time...->It'sTime1]]

"...You have worked for Sanders for quite a while now. You must know a lot about his way of doing business." Fisher hesitated. Then he nods. "...I suppose I do, yes." "What was it like? How did he handle his workers, his competitors?" "He was lentient towards us. A person who always gave second chances and never fired anyone without a very good reason. When I broke my leg, he made sure to pay all expenses for me." He looks down at his crutch, turns it a bit to let the metal catch the sunlight. "He paid for this, too. Then again, he was a big spender... which did not make my job any easier. Sometimes, it's a miracle that his business survived this long." "I... see. What about his rivals?" He shrugs. "There are many of them. Hunter-Smith is one of the most dangerous ones. But Sanders, well, he generally treated them politely and got along well with some of them. Again, Hunter-Smith comes to mind. But of course, there are plenty who were less... friendly. Kaiser and Jones, for example, those are fierce... or Leonard Fletcher, that one has been very ambitious recently. I'm sure there are many who'd leap at the chance to get some of his private information, if that's what you mean." You give a vague nod, but your mind is wandering. Piece by piece, facts fall into place. A picture forms, blurry at first, and then you realize it - the last missing piece that has been bothering you is right in front of you. You know what happened here. And it's time to bring the truth to light. [[It's time...->It'sTime1]]

You scramble for something to talk about and find a topic when your eyes find Fisher's bandaged leg: "Could you tell me a little more about your accident?" The sudden change in topic does its job: Fisher doesn't even seem to think before answering. "It was a car accident. Somebody hit me while I was crossing the street. Looking back, I'm lucky I only broke my leg. The guy was drunk and way over the speed limit, but he only grazed me. A direct hit would have killed me." "That's awful", you note and he nods. "It was. But as I said earlier, I'm healing well. I'll be able to ditch this crutch pretty soon." "Good thing, too. It looks heavy", Deering says. "It is, but I can handle it. Besides, it wouldn't do to look a gift horse in the mouth." A gift horse? What is that supposed to mean? "Can you elaborate?" "Mr. Sanders was kind enough to pay my medical bills", he explains. "He had a tendency to do that for his employees. He bought the crutch as well." He pauses for a moment, then adds: "Mind you, I wouldn't have been able to work here without it, so it's not completely selfless. But it was still a kind gesture." It definitely sounds like it. "He sounds like a rather good boss." "Oh, he was. It's hard to imagine that somebody might want to kill him", Fisher agrees. "He was always fair and gave everybody a second chance. He saw the best in everybody. It had a tendency to cost him a lot of money at times, but he didn't care about that." You have to admit that it is hard to imagine. But at the same time, you find it quite easy to imagine... because you finally found the last missing piece. It's been right in front of your eyes... as they tend to be. You are almost 100% certain you know who the real culprit is. And it's time to end this. [[It's time...->It'sTime1]]

You enter the crime scene yet again. This time, you go through a few things - you open the wardrome, investigate black suits, long coats and plenty of socks. You check the dressing table - nothing on top if it but the clock that held the hidden knife and a hairbrush, nothing inside that would be of interest. The chest of drawers contains a few folders, some tools, writing utensils, a large bag of candy and a few magazines about plants. You flip through them, but find nothing that seems important. You'll have to try another room. [[Check the hallway]] [[Check Corbin's room]] [[Check the office]]

Just as you enter the office, Deering's phone rings and she steps back outside, leaving you alone. This time, you'll have to make sure to search every nook and cranny. And there are many nooks and crannies here. The bookshelves, the filing cabinets, the desk... and those are the obvious things! Looking closer, you notice two more objects that might be of interest: A small box placed on top of one of the bookshelves and a black briefcase standing next to the desk. [[What to look at first?->Selection]]

You've walked through these hallways multiple times now, but this time, you stop and take the time to look around. Thick carpet covers the floor. There is a large, white dresser standing right next to the door to the library, another one placed further down the hallway. A few pictures are placed on the wall, most of them showing plants. You check the dressers. Most of the drawers are empty. The few that do contain something don't hold anything of interest - some candles, a pack of cards, batteries and a small wooden duck. The kind of stuff you'd expect to find in a millionaire's dresser, or so you'd assume. You'll have to try another room. [[Check the bedroom]] [[Check Corbin's room]] [[Check the office]]

You're not surprised to find the smell of cigarette smoke filling the room, clinging to everything inside it. You are however surprised to find that the room looks nothing like the rest of the mansion. Instead of bright wood and soft greys, this room's furniture is pitch black. There is a huge canopy bed with an elegant metal frame, a very elegant dressing table and a mannequin without a dress, waiting for someone to dress it. On one wall, you can see the largest mirror you've ever seen - it takes up almost the entire wall. Even the carpet doesn't fit what you've seen outside; not grey or white, but jade green. It seems that this is not just a guest room, but a guest room designed specifically for Madame Corbin. You check the wardrobe and find a variety of dresses and shoes. It all seems to be of a very high quality, not that you're an expert on designer clothes. Still, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that a dress with real diamonds for buttons is worth a lot. The dresser is covered in various objects: A comb, a hairbrush, a pair of pliers. Some jewelery like a ring and two bracelets, plus two jewelery boxes - one empty, one containing a gorgeous emerald necklace. Then a small tube of hand lotion and an even smaller bottle of hand sanitizer. But none of all that seems to be related to this case. You'll have to try another room. [[Check the bedroom]] [[Check the hallway]] [[Check the office]]

Plenty of things to choose from... [[Check the desk]] [[Check the bookshelves]] [[Check the box]] [[Check the briefcase]] [[Check the filing cabinets]]

Technology, economy, finances, a dictionary and an encyclopedia... and all of it seemingly untouched for quite a while. You pick a few at random, pull them out and peek behind. All you find is a wall and a crumpled receipt for a coffee and a pretzel - probably an improvised bookmark that fell out at some point. It's two years old and you highly doubt that it'll be in any way relevant. [[But you're not done yet->Selection]]

You just barely manage to reach high enough to grab the small box. It's wooden, about the size of a brick and very light. Popping it open reveals... oh. You realize very quickly that you have stumbled upon what can only be a gift for Madame Corbin: A gorgeous silver necklace with pearls and several small emeralds, delicately laid out on black silk. Tucked into the back of the box is a small card... a closer look reveals it to be a birthday card. It's sweet. Bittersweet, considering Mr. Sanders' death. But it isn't what you were hoping for. [[But you're not done yet->Selection]]

The computer seems to be the most interesting thing on this desk. There is a calendar with various things penciled in... looks like Sanders won't be making it to that dentist appoinment next Tuesday. There is also a sleek desk lamp and a small orchid in a pot. You're not going to touch that... if it's as valuable as the others, you might just as well set fire to your next paycheck. The office supplies in the drawer are not holding any secrets, either. Pens, pencils, markers, a pencil sharpener, a box cutter, tape, a hole punch, a stapler, several erasers, a pair of scissors... nothing you wouldn't expect. [[But you're not done yet->Selection]]

You've never been a fan of paperwork and this right here is completely incomprehensible to you. Contracts, schedules, charts, forms, various things that you don't understand. It doesn't matter how neatly it is sorted - you're completely lost. You're almost tempted to interrupt Deering's call and ask if she understands anything... but you doubt it. You really hope none of this is important, because you wouldn't notice if it was. [[But you're not done yet->Selection]]

As you reach out to open it, you realize that the initials J.F. are engraved into it. Most certainly not Mr. Sanders' briefcase, then. You also notice that it isn't fully closed - somebody has opened it recently. A look inside reveals several complicated-looking files, a bottle of hand sanitizer, a wallet and a small bag of hard candy. You open the wallet and... ah, of course. That would have been your second guess, too: It's Mr. Fisher's briefcase. The wallet contains only his credit card, his passport and his driver's licence... and approximately five billion old bus tickets. He probably can't drive with his busted leg. There are so many of them, they spill out when you try to close the wallet again. Several of them fall into the briefcase. But as you go to fish them out, your hand finds something else as well... a crumpled-up tissue. Not an unusual find in itself, but this one is a bit more interesting than your average tissue. To be more exact: It's coated in blood. And too much for a mere nosebleed. As you stand there staring at it, the door opens and Deering comes back inside, holding her phone. "Forensics just called", she explains. "They finished analyzing the blood on the knife." "Good timing. I just found some more", you say, holding up the tissue. "What do they say?" "It's definitely Mr. Sanders' blood", she confirms before taking the tissue. "Do you want me to bring this over to them? It would take a while to analyze it, though." Is that even necessary? This is a lot of blood, way too much for a small injury. The entire thing is reddish-brown and soaked, and though it is fairly dry by now, it's still a little wet in the center. You can't think of anything else this could possibly be from. And in that case, Mr. Fisher might have some explaining to do. [[Talk to Fisher]]

You take Mr. Fisher aside. He looks calm when you ask him to step into the hallway with you, but his eyes widen when you show him the briefcase - you just took the whole thing, just in case. Then, you pull out the tissue and he flinches. "T-that... what is that?!" "We found this in your briefcase", you state. "Any idea how it got there?" "I... no! No, I have no idea! I didn't... that isn't mine!" He looks... somewhat less panicky than you'd expect. But on the other hand, it still looks rather sincere... "I have no idea where that came from, really!" "Do you have any tissues on you?", Deering asks and he hesitates before pulling a pack of tissues from his pocket. "W-well, yes. But everybody carries tissues!" Unfortunally true. "Deering, go check the other suspects. Who else has tissues on them right now?" She goes and you eye Fisher. He's heavily leaning onto his crutch, shaking slightly. "...How did you injure your leg, if I may ask?" "Huh?" The sudden change in topic seems to confuse him. "Oh! I was hit by a drunk driver while crossing the street. Looking back, I, uh, I'm probably pretty lucky it only got my leg." "And how are you doing now?" He smiles weakly. "It's... alright. I won't be able to walk without the crutch for a while, though." A pause. "Uh... y-you know, Mr. Sanders paid my medical bills." You blink. "Really?" "Yes. I. I always got along well with him. I didn't kill him, I promise! I don't know how it got into my briefcase, but I've never seen that before!" Before you can answer, Deering steps through the door again. "Alright, so... Periwinkle, Perks and Hunter-Smith all have tissues on them. Tröger has some as well, but they have a flower pattern. I don't know about Corbin, because she growled at me when I tried to ask." "She... growled?", you repeat, dumbfounded, and Deering shrugs. "Seems like she really needs a smoke." It's probably safe to assume that she has some, though. Really, who doesn't? Fisher looks extremely nervous. [[Keep questioning Fisher]] [[Search the briefcase more thoroughly]]

You go through the briefcase yet again. This time, you notice a few things, like the reddish spots on the wallet where the wet tissue touched it. You also find a small compartment in the back that you missed earlier, but it only contains a pen and a small notepad, with nothing written on it. You think back to what you know. Fisher was working at the desk and the briefcase was standing right next to him. It seems unlikely that somebody else could have put something inside without him noticing. If that is what happened, then it must have happened when Fisher wasn't in the room. Was there a moment where that could have happened? If not, that pretty much seals Fisher's fate. [[Too early to draw a conclusion.]]

"Do you always bring your briefcase?", you ask. He answers immediately: "Yes. I keep copies of several files for myself and I need to transport them somehow." Files? "What kind of files?" He shrugs. "Mostly stuff related to Mr. Sanders' finances, naturally", he says. "I work from home a lot, especially now that...", and he trails off, gesturing at his leg and crutch. "I see. But isn't that sort of thing done digitally nowadays?" "...For most things, yes. But with some stuff, it's better to have a physical copy, just in case. There is a lot of money on the line here." That does make sense. "When did you last open your briefcase today?", you ask and he thinks about it for a moment before answering: "That... about twenty minutes before I left the office to talk to Mr. Sanders, I think. It was right next to me the entire time and I know nobody else touched it after that. If... if somebody slipped something in there, it must have happened after I left the room!" Perhaps there are fingerprints on it? But fabric like this doesn't hold prints very well. [[Too early to draw a conclusion.]]

The thing is... the thing is, what was this tissue even used for? Neither the knife's blade nor the hilt was wiped. Did blood get onto something else, which then needed to be wiped clean? You can't think of what that something might be, though. And would a dry tissue even be enough for that? Let's see... what is something the culprit might want to wipe clean? [[The floor]] [[The weapon]] [[Their hands]] [[The wound]]

That seems like such an obvious conclusion. But you know it wasn't true. Still, the thought is impossible to ignore. You find yourself creating random scenarios where the real murder weapon is something else - a gardening knife, a box cutter, a pair of scissors maybe. But that's absurd. It has to be something else. No, the criminal would want to wipe... [[The floor]] [[Their hands]] [[The wound]]

That sounds logical at first thought. Bloody hands are a pretty severe clue. But a dry tissue? You doubt that that would be enough. There would be traces of blood left. At the very least, the tissue would need to be wet, but wet tissues aren't very durable, so two or three would have been necessary for that. As logical as it sounds, it doesn't quite work out. No, the criminal would want to wipe... [[The floor]] [[The weapon]] [[The wound]] [[...Nothing, actually]]

Cleaning the wound...? Or perhaps plugging it, trying to stop the blood flow. For a moment, you entertain a scenario where Mr. Fisher found Sanders still alive and tried to stop the bleeding. But that doesn't match his testimony (and you see no reason why he'd lie about that)), plus the location of the tissue wouldn't make sense if that were the case. No, the criminal would want to wipe... [[The floor]] [[The weapon]] [[Their hands]]

The floor...? Bloody footprints are an option that you haven't considered yet. Or rather, they would be an option if Mr. Sanders had been murdered on a tiled or wooden floor. You've never tried to clean sticky liquid off a carpet with a tissue, but common sense suggests that it probably wouldn't do much. No, the criminal would want to wipe... [[The weapon]] [[Their hands]] [[The wound]]

But... hang on a second. Hands? Maybe that thought wasn't all that wrong after all. Maybe this tissue wasn't used to wipe something, but to... make sure that the something in question didn't //need// to be wiped. And the something in question... oh, it's all coming together now, isn't it? Now all you need to figure out is who used that tissue. Fisher seems likely, considering where it was found... but he's not the only one who comes to mind. In fact... heh. Perhaps you do know what happened after all. As you look down at that tissue, the last puzzle piece to make this picture complete, you know where this is going to end. [[It's time...->It'sTime3.2]]

You let your eyes sweep over the group of people. They're all gathered together - 6 people, but only one of them is responsible for Sander's death. Perks is waiting in silence, trying to look calm... and failing, though she likely thinks she's succeeding. Corbin, meanwhile, is... huh. Much calmer, in fact. One of the two police officers that have been guarding the suspects notices your confusion and raises something up... a box of cigarettes. Now where did that come from? Did one of them go and buy them for her? Well, it's probably for the best. At least that way, she'll be able to concentrate. Tröger is staring down at his hands. He's rubbing his wrists, breathing slowly... it's hard to guess what he is thinking. Periwinkle however is pretty obvious, curled up in the corner trying to pretend that he isn't there. Unfortunally for him, you haven't forgotten about him yet. Hunter-Smith has put her phone aside, though her fingers are trembling and she keeps throwing glances at it. Finally, Fisher looks rather nervous, perhaps not quite, ready to hear what you have to say. You clear your throat and everybody's eyes turn towards you. "One of you", you begin, "has killed a man tonight. Given what I have seen and heard here... there can be no doubt. The killer can only be..." [[Dr. Periwinkle!->AccusePeriwinkle3.2]] [[Madame Corbin!->AccuseCorbin3.2]] [[Mrs. Hunter-Smith!->Accuse Hunter-Smith3.2]] [[Professor Tröger!->AccuseTröger3.2]] [[Ms. Perks!->AccusePerks3.2]] [[Mr. Fisher!->AccuseFisher3.2]] [[Somebody else!->AccuseOther3.2]]

Periwinkle's eyes widen in shock. His mouth opens and closes, unable to form words. Then, finally, he manages: "B-but... but I didn't do it! I was reading, I promise! I never even left the library!" "You say that. But is there anyone who can back up your story?", you ask and he grows pale. Behind you, Deering tilts her head. "I don't know... really? I mean, where would he have gotten the weapon from? What motive would he have? How did the tissue end up in Fisher's briefcase?" "He might have!", you argue. She doesn't look convinced. "I don't know. Is there anything to support this?" "He wears gloves. He wouldn't have left fingerprints", you explain, glancing at Periwinkle. "As for the weapon, I am not sure how he got it... and if it's the knife that was hidden in Sanders' clock, he probably didn't know about it... but he got it somehow and he killed Mr. Sanders! He has no alibi!" "...I'm... not sure about it", Deering says. "You've got a more detailed theory than that?" Well... maybe. Now that you're thinking about it... [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation3.2]]

Corbin's face shows surprise... but only for a second. Then she sighs, throws a wistful glance at Perks and smirks at you. "I hate to disappoint you, but the only thing I'll be killing today is your track record. You must have forgotten that I was in my room, searching for cigarettes." "You //claim// that you were in your room searching for cigarettes", you correct her. "But what were you actually doing?" "Uh... I think that IS what she was doing", Deering says softly. "Because based on what we've seen during this investigation, I'd say that her addiction is definitely real. I have a hard time believing that that was just an act... and if it was, she deserves an Oscar." She hesitates, then adds: "Also, what motive does she have?" "Well, she..." Huh. [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation3.2]]

Hunter-Smith looks up, her brows furrowed. "What? I wasn't paying attention. Did you just accuse me? No, can't be, I was working." Deering glares at you, confused. "You know that's true, you checked her timestamps yourself!" "She might have prepared them in advance", you insist. Deering stares at you in open disbelief. "Are you crazy?! We already concluded that this wasn't premeditated! Come on, she's the one person who's basically 100% guaranteed to be innocent!" Oh. Right. That must have slipped your mind. [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation3.2]]

Tröger stares at you. Then, a flicker of genuine hurt goes over his face. "Really? You stand here and accuse me of murdering my friend? Have you forgotten that I was peacefully exploring the indoor garden?" "No. You say you were peacefully exporing the indoor garden", you correct. "Fact is that you were far from peaceful!" It all makes sense - he'd definitely know where the hidden knife was! "Uh... are you sure?", Deering asks slowly. "Just, that tissue wasn't his remember? And how would it have ended up in Fisher's briefcase?" Oh, that. Well... that's such an insignificant detail! ...But it seems Deering won't let it slide. How rude of her. [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation3.2]]

Perks gasps and raises her hands. "Woah, woah! Hang on a moment! I was in the office cleaning! It wasn't me!" "It is true that you entered the office eventually to clean. But that was after you killed Mr. Sanders", you state. "It really is quite simple. After Madame Corbin entered the library, you fled to the balcony, where you got a phone call. After that call ended, you entered the bedroom, grabbed the knife, stabbed Mr. Sanders... and //then// you went to clean the office." "That's completely absurd", she argues. You shake your head. "Not at all. You have worked here for a while. You clean every room here, including the bedroom. It's not unreasonable to assume that you'd know about the knife hidden in Mr. Sanders' clock." "...Did you?", Corbin asks coldly and Perks glares at her. "Yes. So what? I clean that thing. I'm not the only one who knew... //you// knew about it, too, didn't you?" "Are you accusing Yvette?!", Tröger gasps and gets up, fists raised. "I will not allow you to..." "Professor Tröger, please sit down", you interrupt. "I promise you that Madame Corbin is not a suspect right now." He obeys, but he doesn't look happy. "But... why?", Periwinkle asks. "What would she have to gain from m-murdering her employer?" "Yes, right! What would I have to gain, huh?!" And she puts her hands on her hips, challenging you with a stare. Poor girl. She has no idea how much trouble she's in. "Simple. Revenge", you state and Hunter-Smith blinks in confusion. "...I'm sorry, what?" "Revenge", you repeat. "Some of you already know this, but Ms. Perks has a brother who used to work here as well." There is a vague noise of agreement from Fisher... and an angry growl from Tröger. "Said brother was fired after dousing a plant with cleaner, despite having been told that it was forbidden to use said cleaner in the indoor garden", you explain. "One thing I noticed, Ms. Perks: When I asked you about your brother, you omitted that part. You only told me he spilled cleaner - you failed to mention that, in doing so, he damaged a rare and valuable plant. That caught my attention." "What does it matter what he spilled it on? It was an accident, it happens." "An accident?!" And again, Tröger gets up, but this time Fisher pulls him back down before you can say anything. "He may not have intended to damage the plant, but you have to admit that it wasn't completely accidental either. He purposely broke a very simple rule solely because he did not want to get the correct bottle of cleaner and because of that, he nearly destroyed something that was both very expensive and valued by Mr. Sanders." "...Fine. So what? You think that's a motive for murder?" "...I have to agree", Fisher says. "That by itself seems rather weak." "That's because you do not know that her brother has been relying on her financial aid ever since", you state and Perks clenches her fists. "And you blamed Sanders for that. As far as you were concerned, Sanders was the reason your brother was at risk of losing his home... and you had to spend your hard-earned money to prevent that. When your brother called you yet again to ask for money - yet again - you snapped." "...You", Corbin hisses. "Va te faire foutre! If I'd known, I would have gone out of my way to blow smoke into your useless lungs!" "Do you believe this nonsense?!", she snaps back. "It wasn't me, okay?! If I did it, then why aren't my fingerprints on the weapon!?" "...She's got a point there", Deering says. "Why aren't her fingerprints on the weapon?" You smirk. Slowly, you pull the bloody tissue from your pocket. Perks freezes in shock as she sees it, her eyes go wide. "At first, I thought that maybe the culprit had used this to wipe their hands clean", you explain. "But then it hit me. This tissue? You had it wrapped around the hilt of the knife. That way, you didn't leave any fingerprints. And then..." "W-wait", Fisher cuts you off. He's staring at Perks in disbelief. "That would mean that..." It seems that he has made the connection. "Correct, Mr. Fisher. After the deed was done, Perks came to the office to clean there. And if you remember... shortly after that, you got up and left to ask Mr. Sanders about something. Leaving your briefcase unguarded. And Perks was the only one who would have had the opportunity to put something inside." "You... you tried to frame me?!" He is shaking, clinging onto his crutch like it's a lifeline. Periwinkle carefully leans over and gives him a gentle pat on the shoulder. ...No reply. Perks presses her lips together and crosses her arms. If looks could kill, you would have joined Sanders several minutes ago. But she doesn't need to say anything. [[And thus...->End3.2]]

Fisher looks at you with utter confusion, seemingly waiting for you to take it back. When you don't do so, he slowly raises one hand. "So. You're going to ignore the fact that I was working in the office?" "Sorry, Fisher, but that won't cut it", you state. "The bloody tissue in your briefcase makes it pretty clear that you are the killer. And according to your time stamps, you could have killed Sanders... you could have easily reached the bedroom if you had hurried a little." For a few seconds, nobody speaks. Obviously, they've been silenced by your genius. Then, Deering speaks up: "If he... //hurried//... a little?" "Yeah. Like, from the office to the master bedroom. It's not exactly short and his last time stamp //was// shortly before the time of the murder, but if he rushed..." "If he rushed!? He has a //crutch//!", Deering yells, cutting you off mid-sentence. "Forget the stupid tissue, he is literally //physically incapable// of running!" ... He... is. [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation3.2]]

Whelp. That was embarrassing. You clear your throat and try to look like nothing happened. "Ahem. As I was saying, the killer is..." [[Dr. Periwinkle!->AccusePeriwinkle3.2]] [[Madame Corbin!->AccuseCorbin3.2]] [[Mrs. Hunter-Smith!->Accuse Hunter-Smith3.2]] [[Professor Tröger!->AccuseTröger3.2]] [[Ms. Perks!->AccusePerks3.2]] [[Mr. Fisher!->AccuseFisher3.2]] [[Somebody else!->AccuseOther3.2]]

Perks ended up confessing everything in court. That, plus her youth, worked in her favour and her sentence isn't as bad as it could have been. But she's still going to have to pay for her crime and it seems like she'll be spending a while behind bars. You do not know exactly what happened to her brother, but from what you heard, he has indeed lost his house and had to move in with his mother again. You pity that woman - a lazy son and a criminal daughter. Perhaps there is some hope for the boy... you'll keep an eye on it. Hunter-Smith has taken over Sanders' company and seems to be doing great so far. There were a bunch of interviews and from what you have gathered, she is looking at a bright future. It must be a lot of work, but you have the sneaking suspicion that she considers that a bonus. You're not really sure about Periwinkle, but it is probably safe to assume that he returned to his normal life and is aiding his other patients. Fisher has returned to his normal life as well. He has lost one of his best clients, but he didn't seem to be worried about that. When you asked, he told you that he's always in high demand and that he might even start working for Hunter-Smith now. Tröger inherited Sanders' plant collection. You'd assume that for somebody like him, that's basically like inheriting fifty pounds of gold. Except of course that these plants might very well be worth more than fifty pounds of gold. He took them back to Germany with him and there are apparently several people who desperately want to buy one of those plants from him. You highly doubt he'll agree. Corbin has returned to France for now, but you have heard rumors that she inherited the mansion and will be moving there soon. Those are just rumors, though... you have no idea how true they are. And as for you and Deering? Well, the next case already awaits. Though you do wonder every once in a while... Could things have gone differently? What if... [[Yes, what if?->Begin]]

You open the wardrobe to find a variety of dresses and shoes. That isn't exactly unexpected, to be honest. It all seems to be of a very high quality, not that you're an expert on designer clothes. Still, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that a dress with real diamonds for buttons is worth a lot. Has Corbin designed these dresses herself? A nice selection of stockings, a few coats, a soft bathrobe. A suit in the back, black and elegant. A long nightgown. Then some plainer clothes: Jeans, shirts and sweaters. You struggle to imagine Corbin wearing these, but you check the pockets anyway. They're empty. Where else could you look? The bedside table, maybe? There is a book about fabric types on top of it. The bedside table itself contains another, smaller book about color theory, a phone charger and a sketchbook filled with scribbles of dresses and suits. One of the suits is drawn more detailed than the others. The words "For Richard?" are written next to them in elegant cursive. But no cigarettes. Maybe she really has run out completely. Behind you, Deering is starting to get fidgety. "Is this going to take much longer?", she asks, clearly annoyed. "I don't want to rush you or anything, but we have a job to do." She's right. Maybe it's time you get back to more... reasonable things. [[Look at the crime scene again->crimescene3.1]] [[Search the Library->Library3.1]] [[Keep looking->Keeplooking2]]

Ignoring Deering's complaints, you keep going. You flip the pillow, dig through the dresser again, double-check the wardrobe. Finally, you kneel down and look under the bed... Bingo! Down there, just barely within reach, is a box of cigarettes! There are five left inside, and you doubt those will last Madame Corbin very long, but perhaps they'll get her through the next few hours at least. [[Return them to her]]

...You're do not even manage to get a word out before Corbin snatches the box from your hand and rushes out of the saloon. You follow after her to find that she has stepped out onto the balcony and is clinging onto her cigarette like it's the only thing keeping her alive. You and Deering join her. At first, she doesn't even notice you - eyes closed, breathing slowly, she looks much calmer now. Eventually, she opens her eyes and gives you an actual sincere smile. "Thank you. Where were they?" "Under the bed", you say and she groans. "Really? Ugh, they must have slipped out of my pocket then." She blows a cloud of smoke into the air. "Ah, I can breathe again", she says, which might just be the biggest lie ever told. "I suppose a reward is in order." A... reward? It's surprisingly kind of her, but... "I am sorry, but I'm afraid I cannot accept money or anything similar - it would be considered a bribe." "I'm well aware of that. Words will have to do. I do not know if it will help your investigation, but it might." Oh? "I'm listening?" She hesitates. For a moment, it almost looks like she changed her mind. "...Ben was struggling with something", she says quietly. "I do not know what it was, but something was worrying him. I tried talking to him a few times, but he kept insisting that everything was fine. Perhaps it had something to do with his company, perhaps it was something private, perhaps it wasn't even all that important in the end, but... it seems like something you might want to know about." ... "Thank you, Madame Corbin. Yes, that does sound like it might become useful...", but you will need to learn more about it. If it is related to his business, then Fisher or Hunter-Smith might know something. If it's private, them maybe Tröger, Perks or Periwinkle might be of assistance. [[Ask Fisher about it]] [[Ask Hunter-Smith about it]] [[Ask Tröger about it]] [[Ask Perks about it]] [[Ask Periwinkle about it]]

Fisher has recolated to the very front of the couch so he can place his injured leg on the table. You wonder how he broke it. But right now, there are more important questions to ask. "Mr. Fisher? We've been told that Mr. Sanders had been struggling with something recently. Would you happen to know anything about that?" If this is in any way related to his business, then Fisher should know about it. But he just looks confused. "Struggling with something? That's news to me, his company was doing well. His profits were rising, the employees were doing great, there was even some talk of building a new factory." He pauses, his forehead creases. "Although... now that I mention it, he hadn't mentioned that in a while." "Did you ever notice anything strange about his behaviour?", you press and he takes his time to answer: "Well, I am only his accountant. I never really considered myself a friend or in any way the kind of person he'd confide in. At least not with matters that aren't related to work. But... yes, he has been unusually quiet lately." That's worrying. But if Fisher doesn't know more... does that mean it has nothing to do with Sanders' company at all? It must be a private issue, and in that case... [[Ask Tröger about it]] [[Ask Perks about it]] [[Ask Periwinkle about it]] [[Ask Hunter-Smith about it]]

It seems that Hunter-Smith, now that her alibi has been confirmed and she is basically no longer a suspect, sees no reason to pretend that she is one. She has opened her laptop and seems to be working on some kind of presentation. Preparing for a meeting maybe? Whatever it is, you'll have to interrupt her. It takes a moment to get her attention. When she eventually looks up, she seems almost surprised to see you. Has she somehow forgotten where she is? You know she likes to work, but this is almost concerning. "Mrs. Hunter-Smith? I'm sorry for interrupting you, but I have a question." "Huh? Oh, right. Yes, what is it?" "We have been told that Mr. Sanders had been struggling with something recently. Are you aware of any troubles or issues regarding his company?" She pauses for a moment as she thinks. You notice that she keeps on typing with one hand, not looking at the screen. "...No, nothing comes to mind. His profits have been going up from what I know, and there are no recent scandals or big accidents related to him." Another pause before she adds: "Mind you, I am his rival. There are a lot of things I am not privy to. Perhaps it would be better to ask Fisher over there. He'd definitely know." Fisher would know about any business-related woes... [[Ask Fisher about it]] [[Ask Tröger about it]] [[Ask Perks about it]] [[Ask Periwinkle about it]]

Tröger smiles when you approach him. "I see you brought Yvette some cigarettes", he says. "It was kind of you. She is very fond of her smoke breaks." Understatement of the century, right there. "We noticed that", you agree. "However, she also informed us of something rather interesting. She stated that Mr. Sanders had been struggling with something recently. Do you have any idea what she meant by that?" The smile fades quickly and he sighs sadly. "All too well. Yes, I noticed it, too. He has been... gloomy recently. I do not know what it was, unfortunally, but something was bothering him. And the fact that he refused to share it with me or Yvette... well, I would like to say that this hints at it being related to his business somehow, but normally he still tells us when his company is in trouble." "So you have no idea what it might be?" He shakes his head. "No. My guess is that it is related to work and he did not want to bother us with something we could not influence nor understand properly. But of course, that is only a guess." If his guess is correct, then maybe you should ask Fisher or Hunter-Smith next? [[Ask Fisher about it]] [[Ask Hunter-Smith about it]] [[Ask Perks about it]] [[Ask Periwinkle about it]]

Dr. Periwinkle looks no less nervous than before. He's huddled up on his corner of the couch and looks at you like he's genuinely worried you'll arrest him on the spot. "Dr. Periwinkle? We've been told that Mr. Sanders had been struggling with something recently. Do you have any idea what that something could be?" He flinches. It's small, barely noticable. But he flinches. "I, I don't know...", he begins, but you cut him off: "I believe you do, Dr. Periwinkle." And because there is really only one reason why Periwinkle would know about this, you add: "It was a medical issue, wasn't it?" He presses his lips together and nods. Was Sanders injured? Ill, perhaps? Is that why he wasn't able to fend off his attacker? "What precisely was it?", you ask. Periwinkle shakes his head. "I... I c-can't give you this information", he says and you sigh. "Dr. Periwinkle", you say, "I am only doing my job. There is a crime to solve here and if Mr. Sanders was suffering from a medical condition, that might have had an impact... on..." You cut yourself off. Right before your eyes, a metamorphosis has taken place. Now sitting up straight, he doesn't seem remotely nervous anymore. He looks at you with calm determination in his eyes. "I cannot give you this information", he repeats, louder and more direct. "Mr. Sanders was my patient and doctor-patient confidentality is something I take very serious. His death has not absolved me of my duties, do you understand that?" You'd been wondering how this nervous wreck could ever be a competent doctor. But now you realize that you've been talking to Periwinkle the suspect, not Periwinkle the doctor... and the difference is staggering. He is calm and collected now, his posture straight and his voice clear. "What would absolve you of your duties, then?", asks Deering. Periwinkle turns to her and folds his arms as he answers: "I suppose a warrant would do it. If Mr. Sanders' medical history is indeed as important to this case as you think, you should be able to get a warrant to prove it." ...You could send Deering to get a warrant. But it would take a while and you'd be without her during that time. Is that really worth it? [[No. It's time to move on to other things,]] [[Yes. Send Deering to get a warrant.]]

Perks has made her way all the way over to the other side of the room. When you walk up to her, she sighs and points at Corbin, who looks much more relaxed now. "I guess it's nice that you got Corbin something to smoke", she says. "Anything I can do for you?" "Yes. We've been told that Mr. Sanders has been struggling with something recently. Do you have any idea what it might be?" "Struggling with something? No, sorry. I've been kind of busy recently, didn't really pay attention to anything like that. He didn't treat me any different than he does normally", she says. "You should probably ask somebody closer to him about this. I was his cleaner, not his diary - he didn't tell me much about his private problems." Well, that didn't tell you much. You'll have to ask somebody else. [[Ask Fisher about it]] [[Ask Hunter-Smith about it]] [[Ask Tröger about it]] [[Ask Periwinkle about it]]

You've wasted enough time on this... time to get back to your actual job. With all that distracting you, you almost forgot what you were originally planning to do. Very well, You'll have another look at the crime scene - that's almost never wrong. [[Check the crime scene->crimescene3.2]]

Deering doesn't look all that happy about it, but she complies and you send her off. While she is gone, you should try to get some work done. You vaguely recall that you wanted to take another look at the crime scene. Now seems as good as a time as any to do that. [[Check the crime scene->checkcrimescene100]]

You return to the crime scene to have another look around. The second you step into the room, Deering's phone rings, so she excuses herself and steps outside, leaving you alone. A deeper search... there is a lot of storage space. A chest of drawers, the dressing table, the bedside table... they all have drawers. Furthermore, you haven't looked inside the wardrobe yet. [[Check the dressing table->table2]] [[Check the bedside table->bedside2]] [[Check the chest of drawers->drawers2]] [[Check the wardrobe->wardrobe2]]

The bedside table contains a box of cough drops - perhaps those are related to his medical condition? You also find a pen and a flyer. You unfold the flyer. It's an ad for gardening supplies. A few things have been circled, like a specific type of soil for orchids and a selection of curved gardening knifes - you're pretty sure those are the knifes you saw in the indoor garden. [[Let's try something else->somethingelse2]]

There are still some other things to examine. How about... [[Check the dressing table->table2]] [[Check the bedside table->bedside2]] [[Check the chest of drawers->drawers2]] [[Check the wardrobe->wardrobe2]]

The folder contains a bunch of documents. You find Mr. Sanders birth certificate, several contracts related to his business. a few documents that seem to be college-related, the deed for the mansion... Then you flip a page and there it is: The last will and testament of Benjamin Christopher Sanders. It's a sizable document, But as you read through it, one thing leaps out at you: Every single suspect is mentioned. //To my dear friend Yvette Corbin, I leave my mansion as a whole. Though you live in France, I know that you have planned to find yourself a second home, a place to stay when you grow tired of your surroundings, and I hope that my mansion can be that place for you. I have always valued my home and I know that someone of your taste and talent will take excellent care of it. I also leave you 10% of my fortune. Thank you for letting your walls down for me. To my dear friend Richard Tröger, I leave my precious plant collection. You alone were able to understand my passion for them and it was always a pleasure to spend time with you. I know you will treasue and value these plants just as I did and I am glad to know that they will be given to someone who can appreciate them. To ease your work, you may also take all of my tools and all plant-related literature I own. I also leave you 10% of my fortune. Thank you for every hour you gave me. To my friend and rival Susan Hunter-Smith, I give my company. I can think of no other person I'd trust with my life's work. You and I did not always see eye to eye, but I know that your skill and experience will ensure a future for my name and my workers. You were a fierce competitor, but a good ally as well. Thank you for everything you've done for me. To my accountant and bookkeeper Jonathan Fisher, I give 20% of my fortune - it may as well have been yours all along, seeing how much time you spent taking care of it. Many others would have been led astray by those sums, but you always remained honest. Your hard work made my life so much easier and for that I truly owe you. Thank you for your loyalty. To my doctor Anthony Periwinkle, I give my library. Take the books you wish and do with the rest as you wish - I am sure that many of them will fetch a good price. The lounge in the library is yours as well, I know how much you love it. I also leave you 5% of my fortune. I do not know when you will receive this message, but I do know that my life would have ended much sooner without you. Thank you for taking care of me. To my four domestic workers Alice Edna Carter, Penelope Perks, Robert Jones-Rogers and Enrico Diaz, I give 25% of my fortune to be divided equally among them. All of you were a great help every day and that deserves to be honored. Thank you for all the hard work.// "...Interesting", Deering mumbles. "Do you think any of them knew about this?" "It's possible", you say and pause. "But we already came to the conclusion that this murder was not premeditated." "It might still be a valid motive. Perhaps the killer only found out about this today... or perhaps it was a spur of the moment, but still motivated by greed. I wouldn't dismiss it." No... that is true, dismissing it completely is foolish. [[But what to do with this?->whatnow2]]

"Ms. Perks", you say, "I do have another question for you." She smiles at you. "Sure, no problem. What is it?" "Earlier today, Professor Tröger mentioned your brother. From what he said, it sounded like there was an issue of some kind...?" She frowns. "He had to bring that up, huh?" "So there was an issue?" "Yeah." She sighs. "The reason my brother called me earlier was to ask for money. He used to work here, too... but he only lasted a month before Mr. Sanders kicked him out." You raise a brow. "What happened?" A shrug. "He slacked off is what happened. Didn't feel like doing his job, didn't listen to instructions, didn't show up on time. I think what really did it was when he accidentally doused one of the plants with glass cleaner. We're not supposed to use any chemical cleaners in the indoor garden because they might damage the plants, but he figured nobody would notice. Sanders was //mad//." You grow pale. The sheer thought of damaging one of these plants... "My brother was really upset. I get why, Sanders pays... paid really well and my brother's not good with money." "Is that why he asked you for money?" "Yes. He did eventually find another job, but it doesn't pay much, so he can't always afford rent", she explains. "And every time he's short, he calls me or our mother." She sounds annoyed, but her smile still seems fond. "And do you usually provide that money?" "Duh, he's still my brother. I don't want him to become homeless." The smile fades. "I just wish he'd gotten his act together just this once, you know? Sanders paid well and the job's pretty easy. But no, he had to be an idiot." A sigh. "Still, it kinda sucks. I really don't want him to lose his home. So I guess I'm ponying up the cash... again." You nod slowly. "I see. It must be frustrating." "Yeah... is that what you wanted to know?" "Among other things. Were you aware that you and the other workers will inherit a small part of Mr. Sanders' fortune?" She looks up, surprised. "Huh?! I... seriously?" "Yes. You are mentioned in his will." For a few seconds, she just stares at you. "That... wow. I... no. No, I had no idea!" "Right.... there is one other thing I was wondering: How long have you been working for Mr. Sanders?" She takes a second to think it over. "Uh... about two years, I think? A bit less than that." "Right. So you know the mansion pretty well?" "I'd say so, yes. Why?" "Just a routine question", you say. "Thank you for your cooperation, Ms. Perks." You'll go through the others one by one... [[Talk to Madame Corbin next->Talk to Corbin next2]]

It feels weird to have Corbin smile at you as you step up to her. That cigarette really made her day. "Madame Corbin?", you ask. "Can I ask you a quick question?" "Oui. What is it?" Surely she knows. She was his close friends, wasn't she? "I know you and Mr. Sanders have been friends for a long time. But were you aware that he mentioned you in his last will?" She chuckles. "Of course I was aware of that. You don't think he'd be foolish enough to leave me his home without first making sure that I'd be interested in such a thing, do you?" Interesting. So not only does she know that she is mentioned, she knows exactly what she is going to get. "Did you talk about this often?" "Depends on your interpretation of 'often'. We did not shy away from the topic if that's what you mean. I was well aware of it." You nod slowly. "I see. And... this inheritance, is it something you are looking forward to, or...?" "Watch what you're saying!" Ah, there's the curtness again. "If you're trying to imply that I would murder one of my closest friends for a //building// then I'm afraid that no amount of cigarettes will save you." Should you tell her that threatening the detective isn't really a smart thing to do when you're a suspect in a murder case? No... she'll figure that out on her own soon enough. [[Talk to Tröger next->talkTröger2]]

"Professor Tröger", you say, nodding to him. "I have just talked to Ms. Perks about her brother's actions." He raises his head. "Oh, that? Yes, it was truly dreadful. That gorgeous pink Philodendron Erubescens doused in agressive chemicals! I shudder to imagine what could have happened, had a more sensitive plant been struck!" He looks genuinely upset at the thought. "Mind you, Ben was very rough with the young man. Not that I have an issue with that! A young man, yes, but certainly old enough to follow simple rules! And really, to be so disrespectful with another man's prized property..." He shakes his head and takes his glasses off to clean them with his shirt, flinching as he does so. "No, he certainly did the right thing by firing that man." "Yes, so I have heard. What about your own collection? Does it compare to that of Mr. Sanders?" "Not even remotely, to be honest", he admits. "I am not poor by any means. In fact, I dare say that I am quite wealthy. But Ben... he could afford plants I could not dare to dream of. Rarities that I could only marvel at. I rarely meet anyone who can match my love for rare plants, so you can imagine how shocked I was when I met someone who surpassed it." Hm... "Professor Tröger... were you aware that Mr. Sanders was intending to leave his collection to you after his death?" "Why, yes. And had I died first, I would have left mine to him. We came to that agreement a long time ago." A sad smile. "Many of our plants are very valuable. So valuable that most people would likely be tempted to sell them. You probably do not understand this, but the thought of somebody plucking my collection apart and selling it to heaven knows who just to satisfy their own greed... that is a nightmare. Ben would have treasured it properly." He sighs, putting his glasses back on and nervously rubbing his wrist. He looks tired. "But I suppose... I will be the one to treasure his now..." You nod slowly. "You said you knew him for 20 years. Did you spend a lot of time here at his mansion?" "Certainly. I live in Germany, you see, but I came to visit frequently and my dear friend always had a place for me to stay. I know this place just as well as my own home." "...That's it for now, then. Thank you, Professor." [[Talk to Periwinkle next->talkPeriwinkle2.1]] [[Talk to Fisher next->talkFisher2.1]]

Periwinkle glares at you with slight suspicion when you return to his side. He's still in doctor mode, so to speak, and doesn't seem like he's interested in another chat. "If you are going to...", he starts, but you raise your hands: "It's not related to Mr. Sanders' medical history." "...Alright. What can I do for you?" "Mr. Sanders' library. Are you familiar with it? Or was today the first time you entered it?" He quickly shakes his head. "Oh, no. I've actually spent a lot of time there. This isn't the first time he invited me to a party and I also sometimes end up there during my free time. Since I am a concierge doctor, I don't need to be at my office all that much - my patients call me when they need me and I come to visit them. So sometimes, when Mr. Sanders needed me, I'd help him with whatever he'd called me for and then spend some time in the library. He never minded." Right. "What about the rest of the mansion? Are you familiar with that?" "Not really. I've been to his bedroom a few times, of course, since, well, that's where people tend to be when they are sick. But when that happened, my focus was on my patient, not on my surroundings. I really only know the library.." "No, it is alright. Did Sanders call for you often?" "He called when he needed me", Periwinkle says. "Some people, they think that having a doctor on call means they ought to call me for every scratch and bruise, but Sanders only called me when he actually needed me. But if you are asking if he needed my help more than the average patient... yes." ...That sounds like the kind of thing you'd need a warrant for. "It seems that Mr. Sanders was very grateful for your hard work. Were you aware that you are mentioned in his last will?" His mouth falls open. For a few seconds, he doesn't say a single word. It seems as if this relevation has knocked him right out of doctor mode... and back to nervous and trembling. "He... really? He... me? But I'm just..." He cuts himself off, fumbling for words. "That... I can't believe that. H-he actually..." He shakes his head and goes silent. [[Talk to Fisher->talkFisher2.2]]

You've looked around, you've questioned everybody at least twice, you've found several potential motives and a few mysteries. There's a theory forming, but you're not 100% certain yet. You find yourself walking down the hallway and pause. Right... the hallway. You haven't had a proper look at that yet... Thick carpet covers the floor. There is a large, white dresser standing right next to the door to the library, another one placed further down the hallway. A few pictures are placed on the wall, most of them showing plants. A quick look into the dressers couldn't hurt. [[Look at the first dresser->firstdresser1]] [[Look at the second dresser->seconddresser2]]

You let your eyes sweep over the group of people. They're all gathered together - 6 people, but only one of them is responsible for Sander's death. Perks is waiting in silence, trying to look calm... and failing, though she likely thinks she's succeeding. Corbin, meanwhile, is leaning back, her beloved box of cigarettes clutched tightly in one hand. At least now she'll be able to concentrate. Tröger is staring down at his hands. He's rubbing his wrists, breathing slowly... it's hard to guess what he is thinking. The same goes for Periwinkle, because while he has returned to being curled up in the corner, you can't help but notice that he is looking straight at you. Hunter-Smith has put her phone aside, though her fingers are trembling and she keeps throwing glances at it. Finally, Fisher is waiting calmly, ready to hear what you have to say. You clear your throat and everybody's eyes turn towards you. "One of you", you begin, "has killed a man tonight. Given what I have seen and heard here... there can be no doubt. The killer can only be..." [[Dr. Periwinkle!->AccusePeriwinkle3.3]] [[Madame Corbin!->AccuseCorbin3.3]] [[Mrs. Hunter-Smith!->Accuse Hunter-Smith3.3]] [[Professor Tröger!->AccuseTröger3.3]] [[Ms. Perks!->AccusePerks3.3]] [[Mr. Fisher!->AccuseFisher3.3]] [[Somebody else!->AccuseOther3.3]]

Periwinkle's eyes widen in shock. His mouth opens and closes, unable to form words. Then, finally, he manages: "But I didn't do it! I was reading, I promise! I never even left the library!" "You say that. But is there anyone who can back up your story?", you ask and he grows pale. Behind you, Deering tilts her head. "I don't know... really? I mean, where would he have gotten the weapon from? What motive would he have? Do you really think he knew about the last will before today?" "He might have!", you argue. She doesn't look convinced. In fact she looks downright suspicious. And when she speaks up again, she stays quiet so the suspects can't hear it: "...You're not doing this because you're upset he wouldn't break confidentality, are you? Because if you are..." "What?! No! It, it just makes sense!" As if you'd ever sink that low! "He wears gloves. He wouldn't have left fingerprints. As for the weapon, I am not sure how he got it... and if it's the knife that was hidden in Sanders' clock, he probably didn't know about it... but he got it somehow and he killed Mr. Sanders! He has no alibi!" "...I'm... not sure about it", Deering says. "You've got a more detailed theory than that?" Well... maybe. Now that you're thinking about it... [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation3.3]]

Corbin's face shows surprise... but only for a second. Then she sighs, throws a wistful glance at Perks and smirks at you. "I hate to disappoint you, but the only thing I'll be killing today is your track record. You must have forgotten that I was in my room, searching for cigarettes." "You //claim// that you were in your room searching for cigarettes", you correct her. "But what were you actually doing?" "Uh... I think that IS what she was doing", Deering says softly. "Because based on what we've seen during this investigation, I'd say that her addiction is definitely real. I have a hard time believing that that was just an act... and if it was, she deserves an Oscar." She hesitates, then adds: "Also, why are her fingerprints not on the weapon? On either weapon, I mean?" "Well, she..." Huh. [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation3.3]]

Tröger stares at you. Then, a flicker of genuine hurt goes over his face. "Really? You stand here and accuse me of murdering my friend? Have you forgotten that I was peacefully exploring the indoor garden?" "Yes, you were exploring the indoor garden. But you were far from peaceful", you say with a smirk. "Mr. Sanders' plant collection dwarves yours in both rarity and value and you knew you were set to inherit it after his death." "I would never..." "I do not believe that you came here today with the intention of killing Mr. Sanders", you interrupt him. "Instead, it was a decision made on the spot. I admit, I am not certain what caused it. Perhaps it was simply the fact that being in the garden reminded you of how much you wanted it. Alternatively, it might be related to the plant you accidentally toppled - keeping such a valuable plant on the very edge of a table isn't wise and perhaps you took it as evidence that these plants would be safer in your hands." "How dare you even suggest that!", Corbin hisses at you, eyes filled with fury. "Richard wouldn't dare lay hand on Ben!" "I am very sorry, Madame Corbin. But your friend is not the person you thought he was", you say apologetically. "So what are you saying?! I just decided on a whim to head to the bedroom and stab my friend?" Tröger looks about ready to strangle you by now. "Then why are my fingerprints not on the weapon?!" "Yeah, why aren't they?", Deering asks. You smile at her. "That's a good question, isn't it? But here is an even better one: What weapon exactly was used to kill Mr. Sanders? Was it this knife right here?" You raise the ornate knife found next to the body. "Or... was it perhaps //this// knife?" You pull out the small, curved blade Deering found in the hallway. Tröger grows pale. "T-that is..." "Yes. It took me a moment to recognize it when I first saw it... but this is a gardening knife. There are several others in the indoor garden." "...In the indoor garden, huh...?", Hunter-Smith mumbles to herself, glancing at Tröger. Next to her, Perks nods: "Yes, I recognize that knife, too!" "And? Are my fingerprints on that?!", Tröger demands. "No. But there was something else in the indoor garden... several pairs of gardening gloves. Including one in your size, Professor Tröger, one that had been recently used and was heavily stained. If I were to send these gloves to a laboratory to analyze what they are stained with, what do you believe the answer would be?" "H-how should I know? I only used them to fix the plant I had toppled!", he yells. "But, uh... why are there two knifes?", Periwinkle asks, staring at the weapons in your hand. "If the gardening knife was used as the murder weapon, why is the other one coated in blood?" "Yes! That! That is a good question! Answer it!" "Simple. We need to ask: Why did Mr. Sanders have a knife hidden in his bedroom anyway? And the answer is pretty obvious: For self defense. He was a very rich man, an excellent target for burglars and robbers. He wanted to ensure he could defend himself... and he did." There is a gasp from Fisher. "You mean..." "Yes. Sanders was the one who used this quite lovely knife... to defend himself from his attacker! But unfortunally for him, he failed... though not without doing some damage." Tröger is starting to sweat. "That put you in a rather tough spot, Tröger. That knife now had your blood on it, meaning that you would have been discovered immediately. However, you had an admittingly rather smart idea: You took the knife Sanders had used and plunged it into his open chest wound. By doing so, you covered it in his blood, ensuring that yours could no longer be analyzed properly. Then, you simply left it there, thus tricking us into assuming that it was the weapon that had killed Sanders. As for the gardening knife that had actually killed him... you hid it under the dresser in the hallway, hoping that nobody would search such an unassuming place." "T-that... none of that is true!", Tröger gasps, his fingers clutching onto his suit jacket. "No? Then I have good news for you: My conclusion can be disproven very easily. After all, it relies on the assumption that Mr. Sanders managed to cut his attacker", you say with a smile. "The attacker would therefore have an incision somewhere on their body. On an completely unrelated note, you have been rubbing your wrist all day, Professor. Are you alright?" You didn't think Tröger could get even paler, but he does. "I... I..." "Richard. Show them your wrist and end this nonsense", Corbin says. "This is ridiculous!" But Tröger doesn't move and her annoyed expression fades into one of horror. "You... no. No! Tell me this isn't true!" "Professor Tröger, please show us your wrist", Deering commands. Tröger's hands are trembling. He reaches up to his sleeve and stops. "You... I... You know what?! FINE!!" With one swift move, he pushes up his sleeve... ...revealing a deep cut on his wrist. [[And thus...->End3.3]]

Hunter-Smith looks up, her brows furrowed. "What? I wasn't paying attention. Did you just accuse me? No, can't be, I was working." Deering glares at you, confused. "You know that's true, you checked her timestamps yourself!" "She might have prepared them in advance", you insist. Deering stares at you in open disbelief. "Are you crazy?! We already concluded that this wasn't premeditated! Come on, she's the one person who's basically 100% guaranteed to be innocent!" Oh. Right. That must have slipped your mind. [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation3.3]]

Whelp. That was embarrassing. You clear your throat and try to look like nothing happened. "Ahem. As I was saying, the killer is..." [[Dr. Periwinkle!->AccusePeriwinkle3.3]] [[Madame Corbin!->AccuseCorbin3.3]] [[Mrs. Hunter-Smith!->Accuse Hunter-Smith3.3]] [[Professor Tröger!->AccuseTröger3.3]] [[Ms. Perks!->AccusePerks3.3]] [[Mr. Fisher!->AccuseFisher3.3]] [[Somebody else!->AccuseOther3.3]]

After Tröger revealed his injury, he confessed in full. It seems that the plants he desired so much will not be given to him after all - from what you have seen, that likely hurt him worse than having to go to prison. While he is sitting behind bars, botanists and plant lovers all over the world are leaping at this opportunity to get their hands on Sanders' collection. You doubt it'll take long before they are all sold... and Tröger won't be getting a single leaf. Corbin returned to France... quite distraught, from what you have heard. But can you blame her? In one night, she has lost two of her closest friends. She certainly won't lift a finger to help Tröger now that she knows what kind of man he really is. Hunter-Smith has taken over Sanders' company and seems to be doing great so far. There were a bunch of interviews and from what you have gathered, she is looking at a bright future. It must be a lot of work, but you have the sneaking suspicion that she considers that a bonus. You're not really sure about Periwinkle, but it is probably safe to assume that he returned to his normal life and is aiding his other patients. It's a shame... you never did find out what Mr. Sanders was struggling with. Fisher has returned to his normal life as well. He has lost one of his best clients, but he didn't seem to be worried about that. When you asked, he told you that he's always in high demand and that he might even start working for Hunter-Smith now. You actually see Perks quite frequently, because she now works at the cafe right next to the precinct. She has already memorized your coffee order and Deering swears that the room has never looked cleaner. And as for you and Deering? Well, the next case already awaits. Though you do wonder every once in a while... Could things have gone differently? What if... [[Yes, what if?->Begin]]

You return to the crime scene to have another look around. It feels lonely without Deering trailing after you. A deeper search... there is a lot of storage space. A chest of drawers, the dressing table, the bedside table... they all have drawers. Furthermore, you haven't looked inside the wardrobe yet. [[Check the dressing table->table4]] [[Check the bedside table->bedside4]] [[Check the chest of drawers->drawers4]] [[Check the wardrobe->wardrobe4]]

You open the drawers one by one, looking inside. The first one contains writing utensils: blank paper, several pens and markers, a pair of scissors and some tape. The second one contains a small toolkit: Two screwdrivers, a wrench, a small hammer and a pair of pliers. There is also a spool of wire and some rope. The third one is completely empty except for one single pair of sunglasses. The fourth one contains a large folder. You pick it up. It contains a bunch of documents. You find Mr. Sanders birth certificate, several contracts related to his business. a few documents that seem to be college-related, the deed for the mansion... Then you flip a page and there it is: The last will and testament of Benjamin Christopher Sanders. It's a sizable document, But as you read through it, one thing leaps out at you: Every single suspect is mentioned. //To my dear friend Yvette Corbin, I leave my mansion as a whole. Though you live in France, I know that you have planned to find yourself a second home, a place to stay when you grow tired of your surroundings, and I hope that my mansion can be that place for you. I have always valued my home and I know that someone of your taste and talent will take excellent care of it. I also leave you 10% of my fortune. Thank you for letting your walls down for me. To my dear friend Richard Tröger, I leave my precious plant collection. You alone were able to understand my passion for them and it was always a pleasure to spend time with you. I know you will treasue and value these plants just as I did and I am glad to know that they will be given to someone who can appreciate them. To ease your work, you may also take all of my tools and all plant-related literature I own. I also leave you 10% of my fortune. Thank you for every hour you gave me. To my friend and rival Susan Hunter-Smith, I give my company. I can think of no other person I'd trust with my life's work. You and I did not always see eye to eye, but I know that your skill and experience will ensure a future for my name and my workers. You were a fierce competitor, but a good ally as well. Thank you for everything you've done for me. To my accountant and bookkeeper Jonathan Fisher, I give 20% of my fortune - it may as well have been yours all along, seeing how much time you spent taking care of it. Many others would have been led astray by those sums, but you always remained honest. Your hard work made my life so much easier and for that I truly owe you. Thank you for your loyalty. To my doctor Anthony Periwinkle, I give my library. Take the books you wish and do with the rest as you wish - I am sure that many of them will fetch a good price. The lounge in the library is yours as well, I know how much you love it. I also leave you 10% of my fortune. Please do not blame yourself for this - I know you gave your best and I am grateful for it. Thank you for taking care of me. To my four domestic workers Alice Edna Carter, Penelope Perks, Robert Jones-Rogers and Enrico Diaz, I give 25% of my fortune to be divided equally among them. All of you were a great help every day and that deserves to be honored. Thank you for all the hard work.// ...Now that is interesting. Of course you already came to the conclusion that this murder was not premeditated. But still, an inheritance like that... it would make for a nice motive, wouldn't it? After all, even a small part of Sanders' fortune would make for a nice sum. The big question is: Did the people who are here today know that they were going to inherit something? You will have to ask them, one by one, although you can probably skip Hunter-Smith, considering her alibi. And you'll start with Perks... because there is one thing you faintly recall that bothers you. [[Talk to Perks->talkPerks4]]

There are still some other things to examine. How about... [[Check the dressing table->table4]] [[Check the bedside table->bedside4]] [[Check the chest of drawers->drawers4]] [[Check the wardrobe->wardrobe4]]

"Professor Tröger", you say, nodding to him. "I have just talked to Ms. Perks about her brother's actions." He raises his head. "Oh, that? Yes, it was truly dreadful. That gorgeous pink Philodendron Erubescens doused in agressive chemicals! I shudder to imagine what could have happened, had a more sensitive plant been struck!" He looks genuinely upset at the thought. "Mind you, Ben was very rough with the young man. Not that I have an issue with that! A young man, yes, but certainly old enough to follow simple rules! And really, to be so disrespectful with another man's prized property..." He shakes his head and takes his glasses off to clean them with his shirt, flinching as he does so. "No, he certainly did the right thing by firing that man." "Yes, so I have heard. What about your own collection? Does it compare to that of Mr. Sanders?" "Not even remotely, to be honest", he admits. "I am not poor by any means. In fact, I dare say that I am quite wealthy. But Ben... he could afford plants I could not dare to dream of. Rarities that I could only marvel at. I rarely meet anyone who can match my love for rare plants, so you can imagine how shocked I was when I met someone who surpassed it." Hm... "Professor Tröger... were you aware that Mr. Sanders was intending to leave his collection to you after his death?" "Why, yes. And had I died first, I would have left mine to him. We came to that agreement a long time ago." A sad smile. "Many of our plants are very valuable. So valuable that most people would likely be tempted to sell them. You probably do not understand this, but the thought of somebody plucking my collection apart and selling it to heaven knows who just to satisfy their own greed... that is a nightmare. Ben would have treasured it properly." He sighs, putting his glasses back on and nervously rubbing his wrist. He looks tired. "But I suppose... I will be the one to treasure his now..." You nod slowly. "You said you knew him for 20 years. Did you spend a lot of time here at his mansion?" "Certainly. I live in Germany, you see, but I came to visit frequently and my dear friend always had a place for me to stay. I know this place just as well as my own home." "...That's it for now, then. Thank you, Professor." [[Talk to Fisher next->talkFisher4]]

You purposely saved Dr. Periwinkle for last, hoping that Deering would come back before you get to him. Alas, you aren't that lucky. As a result, he glares at you with slight suspicion when you return to his side. "If you are going to...", he starts, but you raise your hands: "It's not related to Mr. Sanders' medical history." Not yet. "...Alright. What can I do for you?" "Mr. Sanders' library. Are you familiar with it? Or was today the first time you entered it?" He quickly shakes his head. "Oh, no. I've actually spent a lot of time there. This isn't the first time he invited me to a party and I also sometimes end up there during my free time. Since I am a concierge doctor, I don't need to be at my office all that much - my patients call me when they need me and I come to visit them. So sometimes, when Mr. Sanders needed me, I'd help him with whatever he'd called me for and then spend some time in the library. He never minded." Right. "What about the rest of the mansion? Are you familiar with that?" "Not really. I've been to his bedroom a few times, of course, since, well, that's where people tend to be when they are sick. But when that happened, my focus was on my patient, not on my surroundings. I really only know the library.." "No, it is alright. Did Sanders call for you often?" "He called when he needed me", Periwinkle says. "Some people, they think that having a doctor on call means they ought to call me for every scratch and bruise, but Sanders only called me when he actually needed me. But if you are asking if he needed my help more than the average patient... yes." ...That sounds like the kind of thing you'd need a warrant for. "It seems that Mr. Sanders was very grateful for your hard work. Were you aware that you are mentioned in his last will?" His mouth falls open. For a few seconds, he doesn't say a single word. It seems as if this relevation has knocked him right out of doctor mode... and back to nervous and trembling. "He... really? He... me? But I'm just..." He cuts himself off, fumbling for words. "That... I can't believe that. H-he actually..." He shakes his head and goes silent. [[Nothing to do but wait for Deering...]]

A few more minutes pass. You spend most of them sitting around and watching the suspects. Hunter-Smith works, never once looking up from her laptop unless it's to look at her phone instead. Corbin and Tröger are chatting, loud enough for you and the two policemen standing guard to overhear - they're not saying anything of interest. Perks looks like she's on the verge of falling asleep and Fisher taps the floor with his crutch, clearly bored. Periwinkle has been looking at you the entire time. He got over his shock pretty quickly and now you are both waiting for Deering's return. When she finally comes back, you breathe a sigh of relief. She turns to you right away. "First things first", she states. "Forensics finally called. They finished analyzing the blood on the knife." "About time. And?" "It definitely belongs to Mr. Sanders", she says, confirming what you already suspected. "And in other news... tada!" She produces a small envelope. "Got a warrant! It's time to question our darling doctor!" [[Question Dr. Periwinkle]]

You take Periwinkle out into the hallway were the others can't overhear and wait as he reads the warrant. "...Alright, that seems to be in order", he says and hands it back to you. "Then I guess you do get to know. You were correct... Sanders was ill. I don't think he told anyone, not even Tröger and Corbin..." "What was he suffering from?" Periwinkle looks you straight in the eyes. "Cancer." ...Oh. "That, uh...", you weren't expecting that. What do you even say in a situation like this? "How... how bad was it?" "It... wasn't good", Periwinkle says quietly. "It... well, I don't know how much you know about cancer and tumors in general, but there is something called metastatic cancer. Do you know what that means?" You have to shake your head, so he explains: "Cancer cells can travel through the body through the bloodstream or the lymph system. When that happens, they can settle and start to grow - in other words, the cancer spreads. When that happens, it's called metastatic cancer. Mr. Sanders had metastatic liver cancer, meaning that it started with a liver tumor and spread from there." You nod slowly. It's amazing how calm and serious he sounds, now that you're talking about a subject he's familiar with. But what a weight, to be familiar with something like this. You know murders and many of them are awful, but there is something painfully inescapable about illnesses and diseases. A tumor doesn't need a motive or a weapon. It just needs to start existing. "Now, if liver cancer is detected at an early stage, the survival rate usually lies at about 36%." That isn't much, but... you can see from his expression that this will only get worse. "But with Mr. Sanders, it... wasn't detected early. He felt no pain, only fatigue and tiredness, which isn't exactly unusual for the leader of a big company. By the time it finally started hurting and we realized just what was happening, it had already spread through his body. The likeliness of him surviving was at...." He hesitates. Then, he lowers his gaze, stares at the floor and whispers: "...2%." [[That low...]]

You don't know what to say. While Deering escorts Periwinkle back into the saloon, you sit down on the floor and ponder. You take all the facts you know, all the suspicions you have, and mentally lay them out, try to draw connections. ...You can probably remove Periwinkle from the list of suspects. Why kill somebody who is going to die anyway? ... Nobody but Periwinkle knew about this, right? What if they did, though? You think back to the last will you found. Knowing now that Sanders was likely about to die anyway... it makes you wonder how old it is. Did he change anything once he realized that he wasn't going to live much longer? What kind of impact would that have on the case? ...But nothing fits together properly! The motive, the weapon, the testimonies and claims, it all clashes, it's all missing something! You try to finish the puzzle, but you feel like you're trying to cram a square peg into a round hole. The entire thing just feels wrong, no matter how you put it together. You see potential motives, but they don't quite make sense. You see contradictions that have no solution. Deering returns. You take the time to catch her up on the last will and the talks you had with the suspects about it. She sits down next to you and you brainstorm together, but... even with her help, it all remains clumsy and awkward. A pile of unassembled puzzle pieces. ... And then... Then it clicks. [[It's Time...->It'sTime3.4]]

You let your eyes sweep over the group of people. They're all gathered together - 6 people, but only one person is responsible for Sander's death. Perks is waiting in silence, trying to look calm... and failing, though she likely thinks she's succeeding. Corbin, meanwhile, is leaning back, her beloved box of cigarettes clutched tightly in one hand. At least now she'll be able to concentrate. Tröger is staring down at his hands. He's rubbing his wrists, breathing slowly... it's hard to guess what he is thinking. The same goes for Periwinkle, because while he has returned to being curled up in the corner, you can't help but notice that he is looking straight at you. Hunter-Smith has put her phone aside, though her fingers are trembling and she keeps throwing glances at it. Finally, Fisher is waiting calmly, ready to hear what you have to say. You clear your throat and everybody's eyes turn towards you. "Somebody", you begin, "has killed a man tonight. Given what I have seen and heard here... there can be no doubt. The killer can only be..." [[Dr. Periwinkle!->AccusePeriwinkle3.4]] [[Madame Corbin!->AccuseCorbin3.4]] [[Mrs. Hunter-Smith!->Accuse Hunter-Smith3.4]] [[Professor Tröger!->AccuseTröger3.4]] [[Ms. Perks!->AccusePerks3.4]] [[Mr. Fisher!->AccuseFisher3.4]] [[Somebody else!->AccuseOther3.4]]

Corbin's face shows surprise... but only for a second. Then she sighs, throws a wistful glance at Perks and smirks at you. "I hate to disappoint you, but the only thing I'll be killing today is your track record. You must have forgotten that I was in my room, searching for cigarettes." "You //claim// that you were in your room searching for cigarettes", you correct her. "But what were you actually doing?" "Uh... I think that IS what she was doing", Deering says softly. "Because based on what we've seen during this investigation, I'd say that her addiction is definitely real. I have a hard time believing that that was just an act... and if it was, she deserves an Oscar." She hesitates, then adds: "Also, why are her fingerprints not on the weapon?" "Well, she..." Huh. [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation3.4]]

Hunter-Smith looks up, her brows furrowed. "What? I wasn't paying attention. Did you just accuse me? No, can't be, I was working." Deering glares at you, confused. "You know that's true, you checked her timestamps yourself!" "She might have prepared them in advance", you insist. Deering stares at you in open disbelief. "Are you crazy?! We already concluded that this wasn't premeditated! Come on, she's the one person who's basically 100% guaranteed to be innocent!" Oh. Right. That must have slipped your mind. [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation3.4]]

Tröger stares at you. Then, a flicker of genuine hurt goes over his face. "Really? You stand here and accuse me of murdering my friend? Have you forgotten that I was peacefully exploring the indoor garden?" "No. You say you were peacefully exporing the indoor garden", you correct. "Fact is that you were far from peaceful!" It all makes sense - he'd definitely know where the hidden knife was! "Uh... are you sure?", Deering asks slowly. "Just, why weren't his fingerprints on the weapon? And what would his motive be?" Oh, that. Well... that's such an insignificant detail! ...But it seems Deering won't let it slide. How rude of her. [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation3.4]]

Perks gasps and raises her hands. "Woah, woah! Hang on a moment! I was in the office cleaning! It wasn't me!" "It is true that you entered the office eventually to clean... but before that, you killed Mr. Sanders!", you declare. "Wait. But then why aren't her fingerprints on the weapon? She doesn't have gloves", Deering points out. You shrug. "She could have wiped them. And she knows the mansion well enough - she could have known about the knife in Mr. Sanders bedroom!" "...Okay, that last part is true", Deering concedes. "But we already concluded that the knife wasn't wiped." "She might have gotten gloves from somewhere", you argue. "She's a cleaner! They might have disposable gloves!" "//Might have// is not the same thing as// does have//, though. Is there any actual, you know... evidence?" Why does she have to ruin your beautiful theories with her stupid demands? [[Let's try this again->Falseaccusation3.4]]

"...//Somebody else//?", Deering repeats and stares at you. "There //was// nobody else!" You shake your head. "Wrong. There was somebody else. One other person who not only had the means and the time to kill Mr. Sanders, but also a quite noteworthy motive." "Who?", asks Deering, completely confused. "Simple", you say. Everybody's eyes are on you. "...Mr. Sanders himself." It takes a few moments for that to sink in. But then the room fills with noise as the others realize just //what// you are saying. You wait a moment for them to calm down before you continue. "Most of you were not aware of this", you explain, "but not long ago, Mr. Sanders was diagnosed with a liver tumor. His chances of survival were... extremely low." Dr. Periwinkle averts his eyes. The others do the exact opposite, staring at you with expressions of sheer disbelief. "He was... what?", Corbin whispers meekly and grabs Tröger's shoulder, seemingly desperate to cling onto something. "But... he never told us..." Tröger himself has gone pale. "He decided against medical aid, knowing that it would be very unlikely to help. That leads me to believe that he had accepted his fate. He was ready to die." Perks whispers something. You can't understand it, but she looks horrified. You take a deep breath. You've grown used to talking about murder and manslaughter - that is a part of your job, though a gruesome one. But this right here is different and you find yourself struggling with it. "Cancer is... not a pleasant way to die", you say softly. "He had accepted his fate, but he knew he was going to suffer. And knowing that..." "...He killed himself", Tröger finishes, staring into the distance. "Oh my god, Ben..." "I would never have guessed", Fisher states quietly, looking down at his hands. "He... he wasn't showing any signs of... of //that//..." "I doubt that he intended for any of you to be accused of murder", you say. "It might genuinely not have occurred to him that his death might be mistaken for a crime. But fact is that you are innocent. All of you." "Why even... why would he invite us?!" Hunter-Smith isn't sparing her phone a single glance - for the very first time, you have her full attention. "If he was planning to... to do this..." You shrug. "I can only guess, but perhaps this was a farewell party. A way for him to meet everybody he cared about one last time." There is nothing but silence following that statement. Both Periwinkle and Tröger have begun to cry and Corbin looks like she's only seconds away from joining. Nobody says another word. No murderers here, no long-hidden grievances or false friends. Just six innocent bystanders... mourning an equally innocent man. [[And thus...->End3.4]]

Whelp. That was embarrassing. You clear your throat and try to look like nothing happened. "Ahem. As I was saying, the killer is..." [[Dr. Periwinkle!->AccusePeriwinkle3.4]] [[Madame Corbin!->AccuseCorbin3.4]] [[Mrs. Hunter-Smith!->Accuse Hunter-Smith3.4]] [[Professor Tröger!->AccuseTröger3.4]] [[Ms. Perks!->AccusePerks3.4]] [[Mr. Fisher!->AccuseFisher3.4]] [[Somebody else!->AccuseOther3.4]]

"Yes", Periwinkle confirms. "That low." He's still staring at the floor. "I offered him help, of course. Chemotherapy was an option, but he refused it. I offered to connect him to a colleague of mine who specializes in treating cancer, but... he refused that as well." He sighs. "In the end, the only thing I could do was prescribing him some medication against the pain. I... I don't know why that was the only thing he accepted, but..." He shrugs. He looks tired. [[...]]

The story spread like a wildfire. Deering was right: The media goes crazy over it. Newspapers, TV shows, websites, they all go for it and you end up in several interviews. The murder case that turned out not to be one - it's definitely a story worth hearing. But the excitement is dying down and soon something else will take its place. Madame Corbin moved into Sanders' mansion a while ago. You saw her on the title page of some fashion magazine just this morning - she's working on a collection of summer dresses. Every once in a while, you spot her on the street, dressed in fancy outfits and with a cigarette in hand. Professor Tröger inherited all of the plants, much to the disappointment of many other collectors who were hoping to get their hands on them. From what you heard, he's been getting plenty of offers - but you doubt that he'll agree to sell even a single leaf. It's not about the monetary value, it's about the memories they hold... and those can't be exchanged for money. Doctor Periwinkle was subjected to several interviews as well... or at least, people attempted to subject him to interviews. Asking for details about Mr. Sanders diagnosis, his illness, what symptoms he had and what medicine he took, but they won't be getting any answers. At least not from Periwinkle. Mrs. Hunter-Smith is now in charge of Sanders' company and is in the process of merging it with her own. So far, it seems to be going well: Her profits are rising, her stocks are rising and her workload... is rising as well, but somehow you suspect that she doesn't mind all that much. Mr. Fisher has taken some time off work - he can afford that now. It's partly so his leg can heal properly without being strained further, partly so he can come to terms with what he witnessed. He has also expressed interest in working for Hunter-Smith once that break is over, and he'll probably get the job. Ms. Perks has started working at the cafe right next to the precinct. She's used some of the money she inherited to help out her brother and apparently, things are looking good for her. She has already memorized your coffee order and Deering swears that the room has never looked cleaner. And as for you and Deering? Well, the next case already awaits. Though you do wonder every once in a while... Could things have gone differently? What if... [[Yes, what if?->Begin]]