Part 6 and a teaser

"Truly? He is my father?" Tony was stunned. He hadn’t been expecting such a revelation.

Eliana nodded a little sadly. "Yes, but you must tell no one. No one."

"Don’t worry, Eliana," Tony was thinking again, rubbing his hands together and smiling smugly. "I won’t be telling anyone."

A scheme was already brewing in his overly fertile brain to turn this latest piece of information to his advantage. Yet again, a Dimera was going to make Salem pay for life’s injustice.

*******

"Why is my son locked up in a cell downstairs?" Bo’s dark eyes were shining with ill concealed fury and his voice was as tense as a violin wire.

Detective Irving wondered who Shawn had called since most of Salem was beating down his door with protests of their relative’s relative innocence. "Because, Detective Brady," Irving’s voice was nearly as weary as the look in his eyes, "he confessed to the murder of Doctor Colin Murphy."

Bo went as red as the strawberry filling to one of Mrs Horton’s doughnuts. "That’s nonsense! Shawn didn’t kill anyone."

"I know," the younger man’s quiet words made Bo’s jaw drop. "But he confessed and until I can prove that he didn’t do it, he has to stay locked up. It’s for his own sake - your Commander had to release Palmer on the grounds of insufficient evidence when Shawn confessed and now Carson’s out for Brady blood."

Bo wasn’t sure how to answer that. Should he demand Shawn’s release, threatening civil unrest, or condone Irving’s behaviour and call off the intertribal war now brewing at the Brady Pub. "I…" He trailed off. He knew Irving was right. He hated it when Irving was right, and now his gut clenched at the thought of leaving his eldest son to rot in jail while the real killer walked free.

Irving knew he had one the latest battle. Now he just had to find the murderer before Shawn was condemned for a crime he didn’t commit and win the war.

‘Ack!’ Irving thought, disgusted with himself for his own sense of over the top melodrama. ‘Sam Spade or Philip Marlowe would never have thought that!’

Fictional detectives aside, it all left the inevitable question: If Shawn hadn’t killed Colin, who had?

*******

Victor Kiriakis laid down his newspaper in order to bestow one of his infamous icy stares on his lawyer, who failed to quail as Victor had intended.

"My grandson’s in jail? Again?" His ice blue eyes flicked to the doorway as Nicole flounced in, wearing her usual outfit of next to nothing with accessories that were completely see through.

"Who’s in trouble this time?" She lay herself decorously down on her husband’s desk, arranging her body so that she displayed herself to her best, most languorous advantage.

"Shawn-Douglas," the words stuck in Victor’s throat. The boy should have been called something Greek - or at least not so damn Irish. He would have preferred him to be another Victor, a Nico or even a Jason, but no, he had to be a Shawn-Douglas, a name which didn’t even have a Greek equivalent that Victor could think of. "Get him out. I don’t care what you have to do - just get him out of jail and out of trouble."

Gene nodded, never letting his eyes wander over Nicole’s exposed body, his fear of Victor greater even than his lust, and left.

"Pretty low even for you, Vic," Nicole’s eyes were narrowed and cat-like. "Framing your own grandson for a crime you committed and then paying to get him back out of trouble, but letting suspicion linger like a bad smell."

For the first time ever, Nicole saw Victor’s blue eyes soften in surprise but not rage. "Nicki," even his voice sounded more gentle, though considering how he usually sounded that wouldn’t be hard, "I did not have Shawn framed for Colin’s murder and I did not have Colin killed. For a while I even believed you had killed him, but I know now that you didn’t."

"Then why…?" She didn’t quite know how to finish her question, so let it hang in the air between them for him to read into it what he would.

"The shot you fired hit the tree. You don’t imagine there’s a weapon in this place that I don’t know about or a bullet’s target that I can’t pinpoint?" He almost laughed, but Nicole was as stupefied as before.

"But if I didn’t kill him, and you didn’t kill him, and Shawn didn’t, and neither did the D.A.-" She stopped herself too late as his eyes caught fire at her words. He stared at her as she went on to explain: "He was at Club Echelon with a girl-friend of mine."

Victor grinned slightly then. So the Commander had arrested the wrong man? That would be something to remind him of at their next poker game.

"So who did it?" Nicole concluded, still looking more like a schoolgirl than a sex siren.

Struck by sudden tenderness, he drew his bride into his lap and kissed her cheek gently. He didn’t want to die a lonely old man, bitter and cynical. "That, my dear, is something you will have to ask Detective Irving."

*******

She was holding a protest at his arrest outside the jail, but he could hardly be released as he had confessed. That, however, did not stop Belle from protesting or Irving from going out every half an hour to offer her coffee, a chair, a doughnut (though not with chocolate sprinkles), or simply advice. She accepted none of it, considering it to be consorting with the enemy, but he didn’t give in.

When he came outside for the eighth time with a clipboard in his arms, she grinned. "Decided to give in and join me?"

"No," Irving sighed. He would soon be returning to Chicago, and he would miss this insane town where each citizen had their own hotbed of neuroses and no one was ever as sane as they first appeared - a disturbing fact as no one ever at first appeared to be completely sane, or, in many cases, even rational. For now, he had to deal with an upset blonde teenager whose boyfriend was in jail and who was currently staging a protest on the steps of the police station. "I need inspiration."

She wrinkled her nose, "Well, I can try."

He laughed. "Not from you," he had to resist the temptation to ruffle her blonde hair, instead grinning down at her. "Actually I was thinking about a little game of Clue."

Her stare was of such blank bewilderment that he chuckled again.

"I’m going to call together everyone who was at the Kiriakis mansion the night Dr Murphy was killed back to the house, and see if it reveals anything new."

Belle looked sceptical. "Is that going to work?"

"Probably not," Irving’s grin became devilish, "but I can’t wait to see the look on Henderson’s face when I tell him that the same caterers are coming back."

*******

"Are we set?" Hope Brady was checking the freshness her stale doughnut, making sure it was only ‘stun’ and not ‘kill’. There was a shortage of stale doughnuts and had been since Detective Irving had come to town. He was eating so many fresh ones that Mrs Horton could barely keep up with the demand, and Hope had had to hide these in her pantry, little suspecting that she would be forced to use them for such a purpose.

Alice Horton, pushing the lead centre back into her walking stick, nodded her head curtly.

Jack Deveraux stood, camera poised ready to snap a photograph at any give moment, by the bar. His fiancee and ex-wife, Jennifer, was rattling instructions off down her mobile phone at a pace that would have made Ops’s head spin.

"We’re set." Maggie fixed her final hair clip into place, and smiled grimly over at Hope.

"Then let’s go." No one was taking her baby away from her, murder confession or no murder confession. Anyway, everyone in Salem knew that at the best of times a confession was dubious. Evidence always was. Unless fifteen people, a security camera and some one who specialised in CSI work watched you kill the other person, there was always a chance, no matter how convinced you were of your own guilt, that you were innocent.

The stampede out the door was only interrupted by the solitary ringing of Hope’s cellphone. "Yes?" The word came out more brusquely than she had intended, but she wasn’t going to worry about manners now. She had a Brady to save.

"Hope, put down the doughnut. I’ve made a deal with Irving." Not even her husband’s soothing voice could make her want to give up on her crusade however.

"But Bo…" She searched for the words that would convince him that she was right, and found none. He was right, she knew it, and hated the fact.

"I know, I know." She could hear him sighing down at his end. Then his voice became less melancholy and more purposeful. "Fancy-Face, there is something you can do."

Brightening again at the prospect of action, she rallied the troops. One way or another, Shawn wasn’t going to stay in jail. If her husband’s plan failed, then the Brady / Horton / Kiriakis / Deveraux clan storming Salem police station would be the next option. They could wait. If it was one thing a Salemite had, other than the hotbed of neuroses that Irving found so irresistible, it was patience. Or so she thought, anyway.

*******

"So I said to him, ‘Yes, he’s your real father’, and he fell for it!" Eliana was laughing so hard she wobbled on her kitchen chair.

Henderson wiped tears of glee from his eyes and held out the bottle, bumping it against her glass. "Dimeras are so ludicrously stupid!"

Eliana could only nod her head as she laughed herself off her chair and onto the floor.

Helping her back up and placing a gentlemanly kiss on her outstretched hand, Henderson didn’t hear the knock or the opening of the side door of the Kiriakis mansion as the young Detective slid in.

"Dearest Eliana," he was staring deep into her laughter lined eyes, romantic sentimentality tingeing his words with unaccustomed feeling, "will you…"

"Yes?"

Irving couldn’t bring himself to interrupt the delicate moment so waited while Eliana, with trembling lip, gazed up, doe eyed, at the Kiriakis’s butler.

"Would you do me the very great honour of becoming my housekeeper here at the Kiriakis mansion?" Henderson looked apprehensive, scared and happy all at once.

"Oh," the word was turned into a sigh of pure delight as Eliana nodded her acquiescence. "Yes, Hendie, I will."

Seeing that no kiss to seal the bargain was going to be forthcoming, Irving coughed politely.

So enamoured was Henderson that he failed to drop his new housekeeper’s hand, and she, gripping his all the more tightly, flushed happily.

"Sorry to interrupt," Irving’s broad smile and twitching eyebrows showed how amusing he found the situation, but he refused to embarrass Eliana further by noticing that she was still sitting on the floor. "I just wanted to warn you that the caterers from Mr Kiriakis’s last wedding ceremony will be returning tonight for the re-enactment."

Henderson was almost too happy to let this news affect him, but not quite - his slight smile quivered then strengthened again. "Thank you, Detective. That was very kind of you. Was that all?"

"Yes," Irving couldn’t resist a final grin as he walked back out the side door, "and congratulations on your engagement, Eliana. I think you will be very happy."

Eliana’s smile was blindingly lovely. "Yes," she sighed contentedly, "and no more Mathematical ties!"

That made Henderson laugh so hard that he was quick in joining her on the floor.

Shaking his head, Irving left Salem’s most under-appreciated servants to their happiness and went in search of doughnuts… and criminals - but doughnuts first. The doughnuts in Salem always came first.

*******

Shawn was being released, albeit temporarily, into Irving’s custody for the party. The Detective wanted him there for the simple reason that he didn’t believe the true murderer would show up unless the confessed killer was there to gloat over. If there was one thing that Salemites all liked, other than Alice Horton’s doughnuts, it was gloating.

Shawn wouldn’t speak to Belle as he was marched past her on the way to the Kiriakis mansion. He didn’t want her in his life anymore. Or rather, he wanted her to live a life without his malign influence. He had come to the conclusion that he was no good for her, that all he would ever do was hurt her, but he couldn’t help loving the fact that she still loved him, wanted him, even though he had told her that he had his cousin’s blood on his hands.

"Ready?" Detective Irving’s hands were almost gentle as they pulled the handcuffs tight around Shawn’s wrists. He nodded. He didn’t know what purpose this was going to achieve, but right now the only person he felt he could trust was Irving. He was the only one who wouldn’t lie to him either to protect his feelings or to protect their own secrets.

"I’m ready." Shawn’s lips twitched as he noted the Detective’s wicked grin.

"Good," he was almost purring with anticipatory pleasure. Tonight was going to be fun. "Cause we’re about to cause some havoc."

*******

Victor Kiriakis was not happy, and when he wasn’t happy, he liked to spread the misery around so that he knew he was not alone. That was his secret fear, Irving assessed: To end his life alone and lonely. It was not an uncommon fear, but to Victor it must seem an almost shameful one.

Irving couldn’t resist a smile as he noticed the increased warmth between the millionaire tycoon and his very lovely and very young wife. He was glad that something good seemed to be coming from Dr Murphy’s death. Perhaps it really was true that it was an ill wind that blows no one any good.

Then he noted Bo’s expression as Abe explained to him how Larry had been blackmailing the SPD and changed his mind. Some winds were bad from start to finish.

It was odd how that slight breeze came at the very moment he was thinking of ill winds and brought on it the scent of perfume he would always associate with his ex-girlfriend.

"Evening, Detective," Belle Black was looking stunning in a black evening gown and diamonds.

"Evening, Miss Black," Irving was grinning again, one that nearly split his face in two. Absolutely no reason for it either.

She took a sip of a drink that looked like champagne but was actually soda. "So, are you going to tell me why we’re all here or do I need to bribe Henderson?"

"No need." Irving knocked back a soda of his own, without for once wishing it was beer. "You’re here to help me find a murderer."

Her blue eyes were startlingly beautiful, especially when she widened them like that. "Dr Murphy’s killer?"

"Has anyone else been murdered in Salem recently?" Irving knew his levity was out of place but didn’t care. It was as if he was possessed by a demonical energy tonight, and his wicked sense of humour was coming to the fore.

"Detective Irving!" Victor was looking unusually harassed, but seemed to calm as Nicole laid a slender hand on his arm.

"Mr Kiriakis," the Detective seemed to be floating on charm as he turned to face the pair, "Mrs Kiriakis, always a pleasure."

Nicole did not snarl her usual sarcastic response, but smiled gently. Life didn’t seem too bad, except for the fact that her step-grandson was on a murder charge of which she was sure he was innocent. "Detective Irving," her smile had never been so lovely before because she had never been so happy before, "I understand you’re close to announcing Murphy’s killer."

"So you don’t believe it was Shawn?" He said it in such a bland tone that Belle blanched. How could he be so flippant?

Nicole shook her head, her hair tossing over her, for once, well covered shoulders. "No, and I’ve heard that you don’t either."

The abrupt ringing of a cell phone distracted them all momentarily. "Excuse me please." Irving turned away from them all and answered it. "Really? That’s very interesting. Thank you, and please say hello to Martha for me." He turned back again, smile bigger than ever. There was a mysterious element in that smile now, as if Irving was inwardly laughing at them all.

Belle, who had put a hand on Irving’s arm to attract his attention, unconsciously tightened her grip until she cut off his circulation.

"I don’t think anyone here honestly believes Shawn did anything so heinous as kill Colin Murphy," Irving toasted them with his glass, "but someone here did, and I have every intention of exposing them tonight."

"Really? So close?" It would have been cruel to disappoint the hope in the younger blonde’s eyes, and the Detective had no intention of doing so.

"Yes, and now, if you’ll excuse me, I need a word with someone." Smiling still, charm drifting off him like warmth, he made his way through the crowd and settled by the police officer holding Shawn and the band. "Ready?"

"As soon as you are, Detective," Shawn was smiling for the first time in what felt like months.

"Good," the smile became his infamous wicked grin, "let’s get this show on the road!"

He walked in front of the band, who were playing ‘Save Me’, and tapped the singer out of the way. "Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention please. First, I would just like to thank you all for coming." He nodded to one side and Shawn, finally freed of his handcuffs, jumped onto the stage and joined him. "Also to tell you that I’ve found sufficient evidence to clear Mr Brady here."

An audible sigh of relief came up from the assembly. The Brady / Police war was cancelled.

"Who did it then?" Always the reporter, Jack Deveraux was yelling from the back. "Who killed Colin Murphy?"

"Ah," Irving’s smile vanished for a moment. "That’s what we’re all here to find out. Everyone here was present at the Kiriakis wedding, and all evidence points to the murderer being somewhere in this room."

There was the sound of a tray being dropped and clattering to the floor, but Irving ignored it and went on.

"So tonight, ladies and gentlemen, we’re going to play a little game of Clue." He was enjoying himself far too much for this to be like real work. "Number one, the where is an easy question."

"We all know Colin Murphy was shot in the garden," Sami Brady stomped her foot moodily. "Why drag this out?"

"You’re wrong," Irving, like a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat, kept his cool and made a small theatrical gesture. "Colin Murphy was killed right here in this room, only I didn’t realise it until earlier today."

"How is that possible?" Hope Brady was looking utterly confused. "The shooting took place outside."

"That leads us to answer number 2, the murder weapon." Lifting his glass high into the air, the Detective almost declaimed his next words, "This. Such a simple thing. No bullet killed Colin Murphy, though he was shot and shot by Shawn here. No, the truth is Colin Murphy was dying long before he had his fight in the shrubbery. Colin Murphy was poisoned, and poisoned only minutes before he was shot, killed in your very midst."

This time the crowd was silent, too thunderstruck to utter a sound.

"Who?" Irving could hear Bo Brady’s knuckles cracking from across the room. Someone had set his son up. Someone was going to pay. For a brief moment, Irving felt sorry for the killer, and then the feeling passed. He deserved everything that was coming to him.

"Ah, answer number three," he couldn’t look more pleased with himself, "as I’ve said before, the murderer is standing right here in this room with us, and ask you now to all please note that I have taken the precaution of locking the doors and posting guards." Various Salem PD officers were standing, arms crossed, in front of the exits. "No one is leaving until the killer is caught and brought to justice."

Was that a suggestion of a smirk playing around the Detective’s mouth? Belle couldn’t be sure, but if he kept them in suspense for much longer he wouldn’t be smiling for a very long time.

"So who did it?" The words ‘It’s clobbering time’ seemed to hang unspoken in the air as the Salemites grew restless. Someone had set up Shawn Douglas Brady, not only a Salemite of good standing, but carrying in his veins the blood of almost every major Salem family, and if his current relationship with Belle Black was to continue, the future Kiriakis / Brady / Horton half of the ratification of the relationship between those families and the Blacks / Alamains.

"That’s where the game of Clue comes in," definitely too much fun to be work. "I want everyone on the left side of the room." The response was slow in coming so he barked, "Now!"

They moved considerably faster after that, and the power hadn’t even begun to go to his head.

"Good. Now as I call your name, I want you to cross to the right side of the room." He crossed his arms and stared over at them all, as if suspecting each one of nameless terrible crimes. "Jack Deveraux. Jennifer Horton. Victor Kiriakis. John Black. Marlena Evans-Craig-Bradford-Brady-Black. Isabella Black. Samantha Brady. Brandon Walker." The list went on and on until most of the people were standing on the other side of the room. Only six or so were still on the left when the Detective finished. Shawn still stood by his side, almost as menacing a figure as his grandfather. Both were looking decidedly unhappy that someone had dared to set Shawn up and murder Colin on Victor’s wedding night. Victor moved to be near his grandson and together they were a formidable sight.

Belle was grinning almost as much as the Detective had been, incapable of stopping herself when she was so happy. Her entire family and her boyfriend had been cleared of any suspicion. Everyone who stood on the opposite side of the room to her was known, but surprisingly not directly related, to her.

"Right," Irving clapped his hands together, his smile almost as big as the one he had shown after first tasting one of Mrs Horton’s doughnuts. "The ones on the left side of the room are the suspects. Colonel Mustard, Mrs White, Mrs Peacock, Miss Scarlet, Professor Plum, and Reverend Green." There was an audible groan as he pointed to each one in turn - Nico, Nicole Walker-Kiriakis, Kate Roberts, Eliana, Tony Dimera and Abe Carver. Only Eliana smiled as she was chosen for Miss Scarlet. She liked the idea and flashed the Detective what in another woman would have been a seductive wink.

"Now," Irving stopped smiling for a moment, though his tone became no more serious, "one of the six of you killed Dr Colin Murphy." Abe snorted. "Play along, Abe, or shall we start talking about Larry Welch?"

Abe relaxed back, fuming quietly. Irving knew he hadn’t killed Colin, but for the game to work, he needed a sixth player and he enjoyed pissing his superior officers off too much to pass this chance up.

"I would propose that we ask everyone here if any of them could supply an alibi to any of you," Irving’s smile was feral now, "but I wouldn’t put it past anyone in this room to lie for their loved one if they felt it necessary."

There were a few rumblings at that and one ‘damn right’, from a Brady.

"So really I think we should just ask the real murderer to own up." His grin was transfiguringly beautiful and dangerous as that of a tiger’s before it leapt on it’s prey.

There was a stirring as someone raised themselves to their feet and every eye in the room was turned upon them.

Mickey Horton, who seemed to have snuck in at some point, blushed apologetically. "Sorry, just need to use the bathroom."

Henderson bowed politely as he opened the door.

"Go with him," Irving instructed one of the guards. "Make sure he comes back to defend the guilty party."

Shawn turned his face so that no one would be able to read his lips and whispered fiercely to the Detective, "Do you want them to get the death penalty? Uncle Mickey is the worst lawyer in town!"

"I know what I’m doing," he clapped Shawn comfortingly on the shoulder. "No worries."

Shawn muttered something unprintable under his breath and Irving couldn’t help not grinning but smirking. He hadn’t known that Salem boys even knew that kind of language.

"Now, as I was saying, I think it’s time the real murderer owned up, don’t you, Mrs Kiriakis?" Everyone stared at Nicole. She was as cool as James Dean but only half as sexy. "You had motive, means and opportunity, didn’t you?" The words were pounding down, but Nicole was unmoved. "Only you didn’t kill him. You tried, but your shot went into the tree next to Colin’s body. Nico," the henchman turned his head to stare at the Detective, "you are Mr Kiriakis’s - now, how shall I put this? - personal assistant in matters which are very personal. It would have been easy for you to kill Dr Murphy and cover it up, so easy in fact that Mr Kiriakis ordered you to do just that, but it was too late. By the time you came to shoot the good doctor, he was already dead.

"No," Irving’s upper lip curled, "you didn’t kill Dr Murphy. You had the motive and the means, but not the opportunity. Ms. Roberts however," his ice blue eyes rested on Kate piercingly, "had the opportunity and the means. We know she had access to drugs through her hospital connections. We know there was no love lost between her and Dr Murphy, and we know that she is a thoroughly ruthless woman." Irving let his hands fall to his sides. "But Ms Roberts didn’t kill Dr Murphy. At the time, she was with Captain Roman Brady - in circumstances I believe they would both appreciate if I kept secret." There was a coughing sound from the other side of the room and Shawn slapped his uncle firmly on the back. "Eliana - you were insanely jealous of the attention paid by Dr Murphy to Jennifer Horton, attention you felt should have been bestowed on yourself as his partner in the scheme to topple Tony Dimera from his temporary position of chief evil-doer in Salem and reinstate Stefano - who, by the way, isn’t dead - as the Big Bad around here. You were furious that Colin spent so much time seducing the locals and so little time working on reintroducing Satan, oops, I mean Stefano, to Salem." The detective smiled indulgently and Eliana simpered in reply, pleased with her master’s nickname. "Only you didn’t kill Colin. At the time you were monitoring the bugs in the Dimera mansion, where you were listening to the total lack of Tony Dimera and a surprising presence of Stefano."

Tony started and looked shocked. "Father?"

Irving’s grin was like that of a tiger having just eaten the whip cracking ringmaster in a circus. "The one and only. He was talking on the phone at the time, a fact we have carefully recorded, to none other than Abe Carver. No Commander Carver here was arranging a deal, but not a hit on Dr Murphy. No, in fact he was asking Stefano for help in breaking Larry Welch’s stranglehold on the Salem PD and Stefano was, surprisingly enough, very willing to assist. It seems he and Mr Welch had a contract in the past which Larry, if you will pardon the pun, welched on. In the background of the recording you can distinctly hear the sound of a train running past, verified as the train from New York passing through Salem some two minutes before the murder was committed. The train tracks are on the other side of town. There is no way that Commander Carver could have killed in person the man who was blackmailing him with the information about the true identity of Brandon Walker."

Irving settled back to watch the effect of all this information on the crowd.

"That means Tony killed him," the growl of the crowd increased as Tony lifted his hands in a gesture helpless protestation.

"Actually, Tony Dimera didn’t kill Colin either." Irving leaned forwards, the grin gone and the most serious look on his face. "He was testing the efficacy of his hologram equipment built by his adopted son, Rex Dimera, to see if it could fool the Salem PD cameras. It could, but actually at the moment Colin Murphy was killed, Tony was being taught to tie his cravat into a Waterfall, and failing horribly. He is the only Dimera ever to take Madame Monique’s Course in Cravat Etiquette and fail not once, not twice, but six times." Tony hung his head in shame, his face turning purple with embarrassment. "Nor could almost anyone else in this room. Colin was afraid for his life, unwilling to trust anyone, and so he was very careful about what he ate and drank, even employing a taster to check that he wasn’t being poisoned, but unfortunately for the good Doctor, even his knowledge of medicine wouldn’t save him.

"You see only one person had the means, motive and opportunity to kill Colin Murphy, because, ladies and gentlemen, Colin Murphy was not killed by a bullet," the muttering that had stopped during Irving’s reasoning rose again, beating around his ears like the sea around the shore, "no, I can now reveal that Colin Murphy was poisoned, a dead man walking before anyone pulled the trigger on the gun that seemed to kill him," Irving was having so much fun he wasn’t sure he wasn’t breaking the law. This much pleasure had to be illegal, and the thought fuelled his dramatic performance to even greater heights. "No he was in fact killed by a little known European poison administered to him in his champagne and there is only one person who could have done that, only one person who had access to his drink, only one person he would trust when he was handed that drink-" He stepped back to reveal the killer, pointing a single accusatory finger at the only person not to have been suspected.

Gasps of shocked horror filled the room and a scream sounded out as the murderer was finally revealed…

"Henderson!"