Make It Good
by Jon Ingold (2009)
Genres: Mystery

The call comes through. Of all the dicks; you get the call, sitting in the front seat of your car, hands shaking on the steering wheel. An urgent call; but all you were thinking of was the bottle in the liquor store and so that's where you went first. Now you're pulled up outside the house. The rear mirror's showing two steely eyes. You adjust your hat, stiffen up your collar and grab your badge off the dash. Here goes. You've one last chance so...MAKE IT GOOD!

action: %
response: "Word is: if you don't crack this one, you're
out of a job."

at No 15 Brokentop Boulevard. A man lies dead, and unfortunately, they called you. Now either you can get the evidence together to make a conviction - or you'll be out for good.

ever written: Stu Galley's Witness. A tightly-focused game it
was smart enough to use a few characters with interesting lives rather than several characters with nothing at all, and told its story in a series of gripping set-pieces.

merits of text gaming over graphical adventures. Intended as quick demo project in 2000 it took seven years to reach the THE END text, and another year to finish filling the spaces in-between. He hopes you will finish it more easily, and find the inevitable lapses of consistency in the narrative voice are compensated for by the extensive testing the first six moves have received.

Should you find any bugs - and there will be bugs - please send details to the author at jon.ingold@gmail.com.

The call comes through. Of all the dicks; you get the call, sitting in the front seat of your car, hands shaking on the steering wheel. An urgent call; but all you were thinking of was the bottle in the liquor store and so that's where you went first.

Now you're pulled up outside the house. The rear mirror's showing two steely eyes. You adjust your hat, stiffen up your collar and grab your badge off the dash. Here goes. You've one last chance to...

The boulevard through the windscreen is lined with ash trees, thick trunks casting shadows and gnarled roots mangling up the sidewalk. You're sat in your car, parked too high up the kerb; just outside the gate to No. 15. Just an ordinary house. With a body inside.

"Homicide. One Jack Draginam, accountant. Married, no kids.
Stabbed. Yadda yadda, blah blah. We got the call from the maid - geez, who has a maid? Apparently she wanted to stress there's a lot of blood."

"Oh, Inspector. Word is, if you don't crack this one, you're out
of a job."

The glove compartment is closed. Sat on the passenger seat is a whiskey bottle.
action: Open glove
response: (unlocking it first - with the car key)
You pull open the compartment, and it catches after only opening a tiny crack. Stupid thing.
action: Open glove
response: The catch is pretty firmly stuck.
action: You check your inventory
response: In your trenchcoat pockets are your badge and a car key, and in your hands you hold some black leather gloves.

In addition to your trenchcoat, you are wearing your wide-brimmed hat and your scuffed black shoes.
action: You hit the glove
response: Leaning up in the seat, you give the thing a smack with both feet and it clicks shut.
action: Open glove
response: (unlocking it first - with the car key)
You pull open the compartment, and it catches again.
action: You look at the bottle
response: "Uncle Stan's Golden Malt"; yeah, it's bargain bin liquor at 80% proof and 80% off. Your body's crying out for it. To slip back, let the whole goddamn world ride all the way to the glass at the bottom. Oh yeah.
action: You take the bottle
response: Your fingers shiver on the glass as you lift it.
action: You examine gloves
response: You've had them all your years in the force; though you're always forgetting to use them. For example, this morning you left them on the table back home; had to stop off for them just before you took this call, right after you bought the booze. Priorities all straight, oh yeah.
action: You drink the whiskey
response: The bottle's not open. You can suck the cap all you like, it won't do you no good.
action: You wear gloves
response: You pull the gloves onto your hands.
action: You examine the badge
response: Your police badge - oh yeah, this proves you're an upstanding, honest, officer of the goddamn law. It has a small pin on the back.
action: You go outside
response: (opening the black chevy first)
You open the car door.
You clamber out of the driving seat.

Broken Top Boulevard, Outside No. 15
The boulevard is lined with ash trees, thick trunks casting shadows and gnarled roots mangling up the sidewalk. Your car is parked too high up the kerb; just outside the gate to No. 15. Just an ordinary house. With a body inside.

There'd better be some faces too: you need the slam. What did the peep at the station say? Inspector, the only case you cracked open last year was the Michaelmas liquor. He has a point. If you come up
blank (or facedown in a gutter) you'll be off the payroll. And then you'd really have a problem.

Down the street there's a dog, running about.
action: You examine the dog
response: The dog's somewhere else down the road. You can hear its damn yapping.

You hear a loud barking in the distance.
action: You go to 15
response: (opening the front gate first)
The gate swings creakily.

You step into the porch.

A tasteful little porch; white painted wood strapped onto red-brick building. The front door is north, and through a small diamond of frosted glass you can make out nothing of the wood-panelled hallway inside. Your neck is sweating; sunlight hides behind the trees to the south.

A hanging basket with a couple of petunias in is attached just to the left of the door.
action: You look at the basket
response: The basket is small and wicker, and hangs on a rough twine from a screw in the ceiling, just out of the sunlight from the door. It's about as high up as your head. Inside the basket a couple of petunias are growing limp in the shade.
action: Search basket
response: The hanging basket has got some petunias in it.
action: You knock on the door
response: You knock a smart rap on the door.

After a short wait the door opens, Angela's face appears, then the rest of her. She looks just like she should considering, no time to do her face. "Yes, hello? Oh - " and you follow her eyes, which have noticed the whiskey bottle in your grubby paws. "I've no time for drunks now. Goodbye." The door is slammed.
action: You drop the bottle
response: You set the bottle down carefully. Don't want to break it now.
action: You knock on the door
response: You knock a smart rap on the door. Perhaps a face appears behind the red glass, but there's no answer.
action: You knock on the door
response: You knock a smart rap on the door. Perhaps a face appears behind the red glass, but there's no answer. Somehow, it seems like you've managed to screw up the entire investigation before even starting. Impressive.
action: You kick the door
response: The door's such a hard-wood that even trying to kick it down comes out as nothing but a smart little knock. Perhaps a face appears behind the red glass, but there's no answer. Somehow, it seems like you've managed to screw up the entire investigation before even starting. Impressive.
action: You show the badge to the door
response: Inanimate. Give up.
action: You show the badge to the face
response: -- You referred to something that can't be interacted with at present.

-- You referred to something that can't be interacted with at present.
action: You look at the door
response: The front door is closed and locked, green, kind of cheery in a backwater way. Screwed into the front are two brass numbers. They say "15". Set into it is a diamond of red-frosted glass.
action: Talk
response: The call comes through. Of all the dicks; you get the call, sitting in the front seat of your car, hands shaking on the steering wheel. An urgent call; but all you were thinking of was the bottle in the liquor store and so that's where you went first.

Now you're pulled up outside the house. The rear mirror's showing two steely eyes. You adjust your hat, stiffen up your collar and grab your badge off the dash. Here goes. You've one last chance so...

*  *  *  *  *
MAKE IT GOOD

-- 

Broken Top Boulevard, Outside No. 15 (in the black chevy)
The boulevard through the windscreen is lined with ash trees, thick trunks casting shadows and gnarled roots mangling up the sidewalk. You're sat in your car, parked too high up the kerb; just outside the gate to No. 15. Just an ordinary house. With a body inside.

"Homicide. One Jack Draginam, accountant. Married, no kids.
Stabbed. Yadda yadda, blah blah. We got the call from the maid - geez, who has a maid? Apparently she wanted to stress there's a lot of blood."

"Oh, Inspector. Word is, if you don't crack this one, you're out
of a job."

The glove compartment is closed. Sat on the passenger seat is a whiskey bottle.
action: You wear gloves
response: You pull the gloves onto your hands.
action: You knock on door
response: You knock a smart rap on the door.

After a short wait the door opens, Angela's face appears, then the rest of her. She looks just like she should considering, no time to do her face. "Yes? What do you want?" she says uncertainly.
action: You look at Angela
response: Thirty-something, maybe forty on a bad day; Angela is housewife through and through. From her thick black ball of hair down through her one piece long dress, she's sophistication via mail-order. Sure, maybe she could be pretty, if you'd lost all your teeth and were three notches out in the belt, and she wasn't pinched and blotchy, like she is today. Yeah, today is not a day to be sizing her up, that's true enough.

"Can I help you?"
action: You show the badge to Angela
response: "Oh, Inspector! I'm sorry.. do come in, I'm glad you came so quickly." You follow her into the house. It has a smell you recognise, all right.

A wood-panelled hallway, with the front door to the south next to which is a dark polished roll-top desk. Stairs in the northeast corner of the room lead to the upstairs landing where the bedrooms are, and a passage northwest runs through to the kitchen and blue wallpapered living room, which you can't quite see from here.

In the lefthand corner is a hat stand. Hanging off the stand is Jack's hat.

Mrs. Draginam closes the door shut behind you.

"The man on the phone told me to make sure nothing was touched. They told me you were coming, but they said there'd be more of you." She fusses a little. "Shall I take your hat?"
action: Yes
response: You remove your hat, and Angela hangs it on the stand.

"And your coat, Inspector?"
action: You ask Angela about Jack
response: "In the bedroom," she replies. "That's where it happened. I was downstairs and... oh." She raises one hand to her mouth. "Maybe you should just see."
action: You go to the bedroom
response: -- What do you want to go: the Maid's Bedroom, the Guest Bedroom or the Master Bedroom?
action: You go to the master bedroom
response: You make your way upstairs around the curve of the staircase.

Upstairs Hallway, North End
A neat little corridor, running with the stairwell to the east down the length of the house. The carpet is a worn-down brown pattern; the wallpaper a lurid yellow colour, like flowers stuck in another guy's wedding cake. The closed doorway to the bedroom lies north of here, another door is open to the west; by the look of it a guest bedroom.

"Through there, Inspector," Angela says to you, pointing to the north door; hanging back herself though.
action: You look at the north door
response: The master bedroom door is closed.
action: You go to master bedroom
response: (opening the master bedroom door first)
You open the door. And catch a glimpse of the corpse - a crumpled heap of dead human, nothing but the knife wounds in its back between him and you. Stabbed in the back - oh yeah, stabbed in the back.

Angela follows you in, and looks uncertainly at the body, her eyes a little cold. "I'll be in the living room if you want to ask me any questions, Inspector," she say thickly, before stepping out the room and closing the door.

The master bedroom is relatively tasteful, and dominated by the bed sticking out of the east wall. Opposite is a mirrored dresser shoved in the corner at an angle, just by the large windows overlooking the garden. These are shut tight like normal. The closed door is in the southwest - in fact, lying on the bed you could probably see it in the reflection. The carpet's beige-with-dried-bloodstain, and there's more rancid wallpapering. Between the window and the bed is a little yucca tree in a pot.

Sprawled in a messy heap, pining for attention, is Jack's corpse.

On the dresser is a green-shaded table lamp.

"Then you can meet the others," Angela calls. "There's the maid, and William Matheston, outside, in the shed. Good. Well, all right then." You hear Angela's footsteps move off, but they don't go downstairs.
action: You look at the mirror
response: That's one beat-up gentleman, that is.

There is a loud thump, of something falling, from somewhere nearby.
action: Go south
response: (opening the master bedroom door first)
You open the master bedroom door.

Upstairs Hallway, North End
Corridor, south; guest bedroom, west; murder, north. Stairs, down.

You hear a slight click through the door to the west.
action: Go west
response: (opening the guest bedroom door first)
You open the guest bedroom door.

Heh. That you thought this was a guest bedroom says something - from the photo on the nightstand by the bed, this is Angela's bedroom. It's pretty spartan, no dresser or table, just a wicker chair for furniture. The door lies to the east, a little window in the north wall has a view into the garden. The carpet's blue; so's the owner.

There's a flurry of movement as you enter. Angela is sitting on the wicker chair. She looks a little flustered.

On the nightstand is a silver frame framing a photo.

A tall teak wardrobe leans against one wall.
action: You open the wardrobe
response: You open the wardrobe doors, and take a peek inside. Pretty empty, just a few shelves and a clothes rail, with not much on them. On the rail are a few coathangers. The shelves have got Angela's shoes on them.

"I'll be in the living room, Inspector," she says, her voice a little shaky, then goes out the door and downstairs like her tail was on fire.
action: You look at shoes
response: -- What do you want to examine: Angela's shoes or your scuffed black shoes?
action: You go to the master bedroom
response: Upstairs Hallway, North End
Corridor, south; guest bedroom, west; murder, north. Stairs, down.
action: Go north
response: Bed, mirrored dresser, window. Door. Yucca. Dead guy.

On the dresser is a green-shaded table lamp.
action: You examine the corpse
response: The corpse looks peaceful, like he just tripped and stayed there. Except for his face: two gashes, not deep, but running from temples to cheekbones. The stab wounds in his back are deep, as long as the blade used, thin. There are about seven of them. He'd been turning for the door when he was struck. That's how he lies now, reaching out.

It's bled messily over the carpet.

Someone knocks on the front door below.
action: Search corpse
response: You rifle the corpse; find a key in his pocket. A dirty Yale key.

There are footsteps in the hall; and the maid's voice: "Yes? How can I - oh."
action: You take the key
response: -- What do you want to take: the dirty house key or the car key?
action: You take the dirty house key
response: You already have that.

From the hallway: "Is the Inspector here?" There is a pause. "I'll go and find him, then."
action: You look at the dresser
response: The dresser has no drawers, just a surface and a mirror. The reflection is not flattering, it looks both like you need the bottle and you've been at it for too long. It's like the faces you see in the cells in the morning; after the kissers have been through with them.

From the hallway, you hear the front door close.

There are footsteps on the stairs, and a policeman appears huffing like a steam train. He comes in and shuts the door. Only then does his jowly smile drop into a scowl. "Inspector. Sorry you made it. I hoped you wouldn't." He comes closer, then reels, waving one hand in front of his nose. "You've been drinking. Maybe not recently. But generally." A fat fist grabs you by the collar. "I need you to get this one right. I'm not getting stuck on another one of your
blow-out cases. Okay?"
action: Yes
response: The policeman sneers a smile.

"I don't think you can. The Chief doesn't think you can. Don't think he doesn't know all about you. This is your last chance, Inspector. If you muss this one up you're out on your ear and then you're just little people again. You'll find yourself in the drunk block quicker than I can take your badge. Understand?"
action: Yes
response: "You'd better."

The policeman lessens his gaze a bit, drags a hand through short, slicked back black hair. He's a real grease monkey, one of these modern kids. "Okay, Inspector. Get started. Do the body first, then when you're finished with the body, tell me and we'll get it away from here. Though I'll take it myself around four, when the coroner closes up. Otherwise, if you want something analysing at the lab you let me know. And if you want to make an arrest, you tell me. Now get on with it."
action: Analyse door
response: "Stop wasting your time," he replies. "My time."
action: You tell the policeman about the body
response: "There's nothing on him back at the station," Joe informs you. "Accountant, married. Nothing you couldn't detect just looking around at this place. Not much else going on. No obvious reason for someone to do that to him, anyhow." Joe wrinkles his nose. "Are you finished with him yet, Inspector? Shall I take him away?"
action: Search corpse
response: Nothing. Well, nothing of any worth to you. A handkerchief but you don't feel like crying.
action: Inventory
response: In your trenchcoat pockets are your badge and two keys: the dirty house key and the car key, and in your gloved hands you hold nothing.

In addition to your trenchcoat and gloves, you are wearing your scuffed black shoes.
action: You tell the police about the body
response: (the policeman about that)
"What's more to say?" Joe wrinkles his nose. "Are you finished with him yet, Inspector? Shall I take him away?"
action: Yes
response: "Okay," the policeman says to you, and disappears downstairs. A few minutes later the coroner's van pulls up, and you watch dispassionately as Joe, and the coroner, and a long flat guy called Jack wander out to the taxi. There's no fuss or big deal, just a sheet. Angela watches pale-faced from a window or something, who knows.

If we're being honest, no-one seems to miss the guy and he's only two hours gone. Joe returns to the room. "I'll stick around if you need anything analysed, Inspector. I'll go sit and read a paper in the living room or something." You nod and he leaves.
action: You describe your surroundings
response: The master bedroom is relatively tasteful, and dominated by the bed sticking out of the east wall. Opposite is a mirrored dresser shoved in the corner at an angle, just by the large windows overlooking the garden. These are shut tight like normal. The open door is in the southwest - in fact, lying on the bed you could probably see it in the reflection. The carpet's beige-with-dried-bloodstain, and there's more rancid wallpapering. Between the window and the bed is a little yucca tree in a pot.

On the dresser is a green-shaded table lamp.
action: You look under the bed
response: It's too dark to see anything under the bed. Not that there'll be anything there, of course.
action: You pull the bed
response: You are unable to.
action: You search the dresser
response: The dresser has got a green-shaded table lamp on it.
action: You look at the lamp
response: A bent brass spine leads up from the thick discus base to the long thin green shade. Inside is a short neon bulb which is dark. The glass is a little scratched; the brass colouring flecking off the metal in places.
action: You switch on the lamp
response: You turn on the lamp.

The light glints off the surface of the dresser, picking out marks in the varnish. Letters and words etched in.
action: You read the marks
response: You can't make much out, because the light only picks out certain bits; just letters here and there. Certainly not enough to make sense of it; apart from the last two letters: "J.D." Familiar?
action: You examine the window
response: (the large window)
Large windows, with painted green frames, the paint on which looks a little ragged. They're closed.

They offer a good vista of the poky little garden, which is damp from the recent rain. A thick clump of climbing roses comes up the wall to the sill.
action: You open the window
response: (the large window)
You open the window that opens: the others are painted shut and would require a lot of tugging.
action: You look out the window
response: (the large window)
They offer a good vista of the poky little garden, which is damp from the recent rain. A thick clump of climbing roses comes up the wall to the sill.
action: You go outside
response: A webbing of thick thorny branches and a few buds that mangles over the side of the building.

Upstairs Hallway, North End
Corridor, south; guest bedroom, west; murder, north. Stairs, down.
action: You look at the sill
response: The paint is thick, and dark green, perhaps the third layer the frame has seen. Along the hinged seam, the paint has flaked away, revealing a white undercoat colour underneath. A few flecks of green paint are visible on the carpet just below the window.
action: Look around
response: The master bedroom is relatively tasteful, and dominated by the bed sticking out of the east wall. Opposite is a mirrored dresser shoved in the corner at an angle, just by the large windows overlooking the garden. These are wide open, letting in the bite of cold air. The open door is in the southwest - in fact, lying on the bed you could probably see it in the reflection. The carpet's beige-with-dried-bloodstain, and there's more rancid wallpapering. Between the window and the bed is a little yucca tree in a pot.

On the dresser is a green-shaded table lamp with bulb lit.
action: You look at the pot
response: A stubby little tree, leaves green like the beer from that hole on 12th Street, and sprouting thicker than a ex-con's beard, so much so that the rim of the ceramic pot is shrouded from view.
action: You search the plant
response: You spread the leaves back, to reveal a short stake pushed deep into the soil of the plant.
action: You look at the stake
response: It's about two inches of metal, hidden in the leaves, which seems to carry on down into the soil.
action: You take it
response: You draw out the short stake, which becomes the hilt of the carved steel letter opener, its blade sticky with blood.
action: You examine the stake
response: A short stubby handle and a long carved blade. Soil coats the metal; stuck down with some substance you know well. It's blood.
action: Analyse stake
response: After a moment, Joe steps in through the open master bedroom door.

Joe has seen the blood-soaked steel letter opener. "Is that our possible murder weapon?" he asks.

"Anyway, you called for me." He slicks his hair back. "So, what have you got?" You show him the steel letter opener. "It'd be difficult to get that much blood out of a bunch of tax-returns," he remarks. "If there's fingerprints on this, that'd make this the most careless murder ever. But still, it's worth a shot." Wearing gloves he takes the letter opener from you and drops it into a bag.

The policeman leaves through the master bedroom door.
action: You look at carpet
response: A beige, wall-to-wall carpet. In the middle of it is a large bloodstain; and by one window you observe some flecks of green paint. Otherwise it's quite clean, and not very dusty.
action: You examine the bloodstain
response: Quite a wide patch of carpet is soaked in blood, maybe two feet in diameter. The red on cream effect is quite compelling, like a pavlova.
action: You analyse the paint
response: Right now Joe's off analysing the steel letter opener. You'll have to wait for him to come back.
action: You look at the wallpaper
response: It's just wallpaper. It doesn't do anything; except spin on the ceiling every other night of the week.
action: Go southwest
response: Upstairs Hallway, North End
Corridor, south; guest bedroom, west; murder, north. Stairs, down.
action: Go west
response: Bed, nightstand, wicker chair. Door to the corridor.

On the nightstand is a silver frame framing a photo.

A tall teak wardrobe leans against one wall.
action: You look at the photo
response: Sickening picture of happier times; Angela and Jack, arm in arm, outside a registrar office. But even here not everything's good - there's another couple in the background carrying open umbrellas. Angela is arm in arm with Jack who is arm in arm with Angela's sister. Sweet touch. There's a strange, flat bulge under one corner of the photo.

The photo is in a charming silver frame. Could be worth something.
action: You open the frame
response: The clasp needs to be clipped out but like the straps on the girls they pull in from Chinatown. It's far too small for your fat shaky fingers.
action: You open the frame with pin
response: Using the pin on the back you flip open the clasp of the frame. The cover swings open and the photo slides out and wafts to the floor. A flimsy key which was hidden behind it also falls out. You pick it up.
action: You look at the back of the photo
response: -- I only got as far as wanting to examine the silver frame.
action: You examine the frame
response: The frame is all twirly and flowery, you know, flowers like you get near gravestones. It has a little clasp on the side and the silver front hangs open on a hinge from the back.
action: You examine photo
response: Sickening picture of happier times; Angela and Jack, arm in arm, outside a registrar office. But even here not everything's good - there's another couple in the background carrying open umbrellas. Angela is arm in arm with Jack who is arm in arm with Angela's sister. Sweet touch.
action: You examine the flimsy key
response: A small flimsy key, like the key to a diary.
action: You look at the nightstand
response: A little bedside table, pretty empty.
action: You search it
response: The nightstand has got a silver frame on it.
action: You look under the bed
response: Just by the foot of the bed is a small red spot on the carpet.
action: You examine the spot
response: Just a small spot of drying blood.
action: You examine the chair
response: A rickety old chair, made of little bits of wood like the bones of an old guy. It's over by the bed. Just next to the legs, but not quite under, are four circular dents in the carpet.
action: You stand on the chair
response: You get onto the wicker chair.
action: You examine wardrobe
response: A tall wardrobe made of teak, with cocky brass handles on the doors. It's got nasty little carved flourishes between base and carpet, and same up top, so you can't easily see under it or over it.
action: You get off the chair
response: You get off the wicker chair.

Bed, nightstand, wicker chair. Door to the corridor.

On the nightstand is a silver frame.

A tall teak wardrobe leans against one wall.

You can also see a wedding photo here.
action: Up
response: The only door is east. You can't even jump out of the window in this room, as there's nowhere to jump to.
action: You examine the wardrobe
response: A tall wardrobe made of teak, with cocky brass handles on the doors. It's got nasty little carved flourishes between base and carpet, and same up top, so you can't easily see under it.
action: F search wardrobe
response: (--> d search wardrobe)
-- I only got as far as wanting to d.
action: You search the wardrobe
response: Pretty empty, just a few shelves and a clothes rail, with not much on them. On the rail are a few coathangers. The shelves have got Angela's shoes on them.
action: You search top
response: (--> look over wardrobe)
Ah-ha! There's an ugly pink suitcase hidden on top of the wardrobe! You pull it out - it's heavy - and drop it noisily to the floor.

-- You referred to something that can't be interacted with at present.
action: You get off the chair
response: You get off the wicker chair.

Bed, nightstand, wicker chair. Door to the corridor.

On the nightstand is a silver frame.

A tall teak wardrobe leans against one wall.

The wicker chair is over by the wardrobe.

You can also see a closed pink suitcase, its lock clicked down, and a wedding photo here.
action: Unlock suitcase with flimsy
response: You unlock the pink suitcase.
action: You open it
response: You open the pink suitcase, revealing Angela's clothes.
action: Search clothes
response: (Angela's clothes)
You rummage around in the clothing, unearthing a novel, a toiletry bag, passport documents, which you lay out to one side. But even more interesting - a highly valuable black and white photograph is revealed.
action: You examine the photograph
response: -- What do you want to examine: the black and white incriminating photograph, the passport photo or the wedding photo?
action: You look at the novel
response: "The Complete Adventures of Slick Gurner." Pocket sized. Bin sized.

On the back flap, in blue ink, are the numbers 43 and 41.
action: You turn to the page 43
response: (in the trashy novel)
You find the page, and read:

...with another double four. Just how much luck could one man
have?
"You're cheating," Sam exclaimed, standing from the table and
throwing her cards at him. They missed of course, landing short just by Slick's left hand. "You're a dirty pig, and I hate you!"
But that strike was ineffectual - Slick caught her slim wrist
as it flicked across the air to connect with the regal stubble of the Gurner family jaw. "Lady," he replied, purring. "Sit down, and finish the game."
"Best out of four?" Sam replied, ruefully, making no effort to
free her arm.
"Okey," Slick replied, and Sam strutted out, sending the next
girl in. But this girl was different, and Slick knew it by the tingling under his coat; just below his third rib where his heart was. It was Clarissa.
"Clarissa!" he hissed, ever concious of the two thousand-strong audience in hushed silence around him. "What are you doing here?" "Same as you, Slick," she whispered in reply, whilst shaking his
hand formally to convince the onlookers it was just a friendly greeting. "Trying to diffuse the bomb."
Slick nodded grimly. This was his kind of girl. "Maybe," he
said, and then: "I have an idea. If we work together..."
"We can force a draw! Then it won't detonate!" Clarissa
continued, her eyes sparkling as she slid with cat-like grace, learned through years of air-hostessing, into her electronic PlaymoChair. "What's the game?"
Slick looked across at the list, and his face fell. "Some Ruskie invention. A bit like Tic-Tac-Toe."
Clarissa's face lit up in excitement. "Tic Tac Toe? Slick! I
think ... I think we've got a chance!"
action: You turn to page 41
response: (in the trashy novel)
You find the page, and read:

...and would fail. He gazed at her levelly, and adjusted his hat.

"If that's the way you want to play it, lady," Slick purred,
"Then I guess I'll just play along. I'll wrap to your tune."
Krissie smiled back, a plan forming in her mind. Stretching
forward a hand, long thin fingers reached out and grasped. Slick blinked - a hotel. On Mayfair.
"It's at times like this," Krissie purred back, in a similar
tone to that of Slick's, only slightly higher pitched because she was a broad, "I just love to be a woman."
Slick nodded. "I know what you mean," he replied.
action: You turn to the page 42
response: (in the trashy novel)
You find the page, and read:

Just more of the same old pulp.
action: You look at toiletry bag
response: A black plasticky toiletry bag, with a zip along the top, which is closed.
action: You open the bag
response: You pull the zip across.

The toiletry bag has got some assorted toiletries in it.
action: You examine the passport
response: (Angela's passport)
The date of issue is recent - just over a month ago - but the photograph looks a few years old.
action: Analyse spot
response: After a moment, Joe steps in through the open guest bedroom door.

"Well, what did you want doing?" he asks, and you indicate the red spot. He shakes his head. "Well, we can guess who's it is, but it's too small. I mean, I can't get a sample from that to take the lab. Sorry, Inspector. You'll have to wing this one."

The policeman leaves through the guest bedroom door.
action: You go to the master bedroom
response: Upstairs Hallway, North End
Corridor, south; guest bedroom, west; murder, north. Stairs, down.
action: Go north
response: Bed, mirrored dresser, window. Door. Yucca. Blood, lots of it.

On the dresser is a green-shaded table lamp with bulb lit.
action: You analyse the paint
response: After a moment, Joe steps in through the open master bedroom door.

"Well?" You direct his attention to the green paint flecks. "You expect to learn a lot from those, do you?" Joe smarts back. "Some cretin you are."

The policeman leaves through the master bedroom door.
action: Go south
response: Upstairs Hallway, South End
The long hallway ends here with the door to the south into the study; and another bedroom, unfamiliar except for the sofa just visible from here, lies east. The bathroom lies opposite, a sweet porcelain number.

In one corner is a stumpy rubber tree in a brown pot.
action: You examine the rubber tree
response: It's the height of a doubled-up guy on his knees and its leaves flop like his head might.
action: Go east
response: A nice little room - petite, sure, but that probably suits its owner down to the ground. The bed is a single and next to the head is a low chest being used as a bedside table. The centre of the room is taken up by a slightly threadbare sofa. A couple of paintings hang on the wall, nothing famous. There's a tall room lamp by the door, back west, and a thin wardrobe in the corner.

By the crummy-view window is screwed a small silver hook. Hanging from the hook is a silver key.

On the low chest is a jar of face-cream.

Thrown in one corner of the sofa is a pile of men's clothing: someone changing in a hurry and flinging what they had on away.
action: You examine the clothing
response: Definitely men's shirts; they might be the maid's boyfriend's, they might be Jack's waiting to be ironed. Picking one at random, it has the letters ADC stitched into the back of the collar. In the breast-pocket of one you find a scrap of pink paper. Otherwise... Nothing but clothes.
action: Search shirts
response: Nothing but clothes.
action: You examine the pink paper
response: A small square of pink notepaper, folded twice, and scrumpled: it's been through the wash; this is one bit of paper you empathise with. Written on it is:
action: You examine the sofa
response: An old red sofa, the stuffing all beaten out and the armrests covered in tea rings. Presumably the household got it on the cheap to make the maid feel more at home. Maybe they made her get it herself.
action: You look under the sofa
response: You run your hand under the thin crack between sofa and carpet, and unearth a quarter.
action: Examine quarter
response: On closer inspection it's not a quarter, it's not even currency. It's a French franc, dated seven years ago.
action: You take the silver key
response: Taken.
action: You examine the face cream
response: A small jar of stuff with a label in French. The picture shows a tide smoothing down sand.
action: You smell the cream
response: You want to smell the jar of face-cream?
action: Y.
response: Sure.
action: You open the cream
response: The jar's about half-full.
action: You close jar
response: You close the jar of face-cream.
action: You examine gloves
response: You've had them all your years in the force; though you're always forgetting to use them. For example, this morning you left them on the table back home; had to stop off for them just before you took this call, right after you bought the booze. Priorities all straight, oh yeah.
action: You look at your surroundings
response: A nice little room - petite, sure, but that probably suits its owner down to the ground. The bed is a single and next to the head is a low chest being used as a bedside table. The centre of the room is taken up by a slightly threadbare sofa. A couple of paintings hang on the wall, nothing famous. There's a tall room lamp by the door, back west, and a thin wardrobe in the corner.

By the crummy-view window is screwed a small silver hook.

On the low chest is a jar of face-cream.

Thrown in one corner of the sofa is a pile of men's clothing: someone changing in a hurry and flinging what they had on away.
action: Search clothes
response: Nothing but clothes.
action: Open chest
response: The metal chest is locked.
action: You open the wardrobe
response: You open the tall thin wardrobe, revealing some dresses and stuff.
action: You turn on the lamp
response: You flip the switch under the base of the lampshade.
action: You look at the lamp
response: Six foot high lamp, the only lighting in the room if you don't count the windows. Right now it's on.
action: You examine the window
response: Through the window is the brick-side of Number 17 Broken Top Boulevard. It's like the final view of a crash-test dummy.
action: Go outside
response: Upstairs Hallway, South End
Corridor back north. Maid's bedroom to the east. Bathroom opposite, handy. South is the study.

In one corner is a stumpy rubber tree in a brown pot.
action: You go to the guest
response: Bed, nightstand, wicker chair. Door to the corridor.

On the nightstand is a silver frame.

A tall teak wardrobe leans against one wall.

The wicker chair is over by the wardrobe.

You can also see Angela's passport, a toiletry bag, a trashy novel, a wide open pink suitcase and a wedding photo here.
action: You take the passport
response: (Angela's passport)
Taken.
action: You open the wardrobe
response: That's already open.
action: Search shoes
response: -- What do you want to search: Angela's shoes or your scuffed black shoes?
action: You examine the angela's shoes
response: Prussy tight little black numbers, slip on slip off; perfect for a little black dress and a limp. Yeah, they look even more uncomfortable than you feel in this damn coat.
action: You look at your shoes
response: Your shoes. They could do with a polish; the soles could do with a scrape - too many damn dogs in the neighbourhood.
action: You turn to the page 14
response: (in the trashy novel)
You find the page, and read:

The streetlight fell dark, and Slick stepped back into the shadow
like Orson Welles in that great black and white film.
action: You go to study
response: This room is long and thin, like a jailhouse corridor, from the doorway in the northeast corner to the large bay window opposite which stretches the length of the room, overlooking the street outside. The colours are your eyes on a Sunday; red like blood, red like the leather of the over-stuffed chair, which sits a cheap trophy by the main desk. A bookshelf fills the east wall.

On the mahogany desk are a pencil, a wooden block and a telephone.

Leaning against the side of the desk is Jack's briefcase.
action: Search block
response: The wooden block is empty.
action: You examine the telephone
response: (the telephone)
A squat little black telephone, with a receiver and a dial. You should recognise it, you're allowed to use it once every time you're kept in. On the front is a sticker with the number: 3734.
action: You dial 1488
response: (on the telephone)
You lift the receiver and dial. The phone rings seven times - maybe twenty-three - and finally a woman answers: "Hello?"

In the background you hear a man's voice, all growling, whining-like, a puppy nursing his bone: "Who's that, Jenny? Come back here."

"Hello?"
action: Topics
response: (talking to the woman's voice)
-- You could try talking to the woman's voice about: the silver key, the scrap of pink paper, the black and white incriminating photograph, the trashy novel, the steel letter opener or yourself.
action: You ask the woman about the pink paper
response: "I'm sorry, I think you've got a wrong number," she says quickly. The phone clicks dead. You hang up.
action: You open the briefcase
response: You open the briefcase.
action: You look in it
response: The briefcase is empty.
action: You look at your surroundings
response: This room is long and thin, like a jailhouse corridor, from the doorway in the northeast corner to the large bay window opposite which stretches the length of the room, overlooking the street outside. The colours are your eyes on a Sunday; red like blood, red like the leather of the over-stuffed chair, which sits a cheap trophy by the main desk. A bookshelf fills the east wall.

On the mahogany desk are a wooden block and a telephone.

Leaning against the side of the desk is Jack's briefcase.
action: Search desk
response: The mahogany desk has got a wooden block and a telephone on it.
action: You search the bookshelf
response: What, all of them? Are you hoping to get a qualification or something?
action: You examine the chair
response: The damn thing's still warm.
action: You look at window
response: The window has a nice view of the garden path and then out over the street; a picturesque little suburban vista marred only by your car, halfway up the pavement like it had been dropped there. That's okay - someone'll probably clear it up in a bit.
action: You go to the bathroom
response: Upstairs Hallway, South End
Corridor back north. Maid's bedroom to the east. Bathroom opposite, handy. South is the study.

In one corner is a stumpy rubber tree in a brown pot.
action: You go to the bathroom
response: (opening the bathroom door first)
You open the bathroom door.

The usual fittings, in a slightly sullen white. Blue and yellow tiling checkers the wall by the shower head, the rest is cream wallpaper like the faces in the drunk tank on Tuesday morning. The door is east, back to the hallway.

Above the sink is an open cabinet.
action: You look in it
response: The mirrored cabinet has got some assorted toiletries and a medicine tube in it.
action: You examine the medicine
response: A small brown medicine tube. The label reads: "CERESTEX: Mr A Carpenter. Dose - maximum one tablet every four hours. Do not exceed four tablets in 24 hours."
action: You examine the toiletries
response: A whole bunch of ordinary stuff. Toothbrush, toothpaste, that sort of thing. There are two razors here; you notice one has a slight mark of dried blood on the handle.
action: You look at the razor
response: The handles are white with old soap and the blades red with dried blood. It's the same in your place.
action: You analyse the razors
response: After a moment, Joe steps in through the open bathroom door.

"Well?" You direct his attention to the razors. Joe takes one look. "You might want to learn how to use one of those," he remarks acidly.

The policeman leaves through the bathroom door.
action: You look at the sink
response: The washbasin is crisp white. Except for a few dried up flecks of blood at the bottom of the sink.
action: You search the washbasin
response: The washbasin is empty.
action: You look at the blood
response: (the specks of blood)
Just a few spots in a rough line from plug hole to under the hot tap.
action: You analyse the blood
response: (the specks of blood)
After a moment, Joe steps in through the open bathroom door.

"Well?" You direct his attention to the specks of blood. "Some blood? Well - it could be anybody's, couldn't it? But my money's on it belonging to the stiff, okay?" Joe snarls, before producing a swab and a bag and soaking up a little of the blood, which he places in a bag.

The policeman leaves through the bathroom door.
action: Look around
response: The usual fittings, in a slightly sullen white. Blue and yellow tiling checkers the wall by the shower head, the rest is cream wallpaper like the faces in the drunk tank on Tuesday morning. The door is east, back to the hallway.

Above the sink is an open cabinet.
action: You go to the master bedroom
response: Upstairs Hallway, South End
Corridor back north. Maid's bedroom to the east. Bathroom opposite, handy. South is the study.

In one corner is a stumpy rubber tree in a brown pot.
action: Inventory
response: In your trenchcoat pockets are a medicine tube, closed, with eight tablets inside, a pencil, Angela's passport, a trashy novel, a Franc, a black and white incriminating photograph, your badge and four keys: the silver key, the flimsy key, the dirty house key and the car key, and in your gloved hands you hold a scrap of pink paper and a steel letter opener.

In addition to your trenchcoat and gloves, you are wearing your scuffed black shoes.
action: You look at franc
response: On closer inspection it's not a quarter, it's not even currency. It's a French franc, dated seven years ago.
action: Look around
response: The master bedroom is relatively tasteful, and dominated by the bed sticking out of the east wall. Opposite is a mirrored dresser shoved in the corner at an angle, just by the large windows overlooking the garden. These are wide open, letting in the bite of cold air. The open door is in the southwest - in fact, lying on the bed you could probably see it in the reflection. The carpet's beige-with-dried-bloodstain, and there's more rancid wallpapering. Between the window and the bed is a little yucca tree in a pot.

On the dresser is a green-shaded table lamp with bulb lit.
action: You put the scrap on the dresser
response: You put the scrap of pink paper on the marks in the varnish.
action: Go downward
response: You descend the half-circle of the stairs, into the hallway.

Stairs up, passage northwest, front door behind. Desk one side, hat-stand on the other.
action: You look at your surroundings
response: A wood-panelled hallway, with the front door to the south next to which is a dark polished roll-top desk. Stairs in the northeast corner of the room lead to the upstairs landing where the bedrooms are, and a passage northwest runs through to the kitchen and blue wallpapered living room, which you can't quite see from here.

In the lefthand corner is a hat stand. Hanging off the stand are your wide-brimmed hat and Jack's hat.
action: You examine the desk
response: No doubt an antique or something, that'd explain why it's missing a handle on one drawer and the varnish on top is scratched and covered in coffee-rings. Probably worth a few bucks; that would fit with the household just right. The lid is rollback like a bread-bin.

Currently the lid is shut.
action: You open the lid
response: You open the roll-top desk, revealing the closet key and a blank sheet of paper.
action: You take the paper
response: (the blank sheet of paper)
Taken.
action: You take the key
response: (the closet key)
Taken.
action: You look at the jack's hat
response: It's Jack's hat, he only had the one, a light brown number. Kind he'd wear to parties but remember not to leave on.
action: Search hat
response: -- What do you want to search: your wide-brimmed hat or Jack's hat?
action: Go upwards
response: You make your way upstairs around the curve of the staircase.

Upstairs Hallway, North End
Corridor, south; guest bedroom, west; murder, north. Stairs, down.
action: You go to master
response: Bed, mirrored dresser, window. Door. Yucca. Blood, lots of it.

On the dresser is a green-shaded table lamp with bulb lit.
action: You put the blank paper on the dresser
response: You put the blank sheet of paper on the marks in the varnish.
action: You rub the pencil on paper
response: (the scrap of pink paper)
Don't go scribbling over that.
action: You rub the pencil on the blank paper
response: You start rubbing at the surface but can't get any detail - the dresser top is covered with some sticky stuff that makes the surface rough and uneven. You pick the paper back up to see what it is. You pick at it with a fingernail, but you could do with something to help clean it.
action: You go east
response: Upstairs Hallway, North End
Corridor, south; guest bedroom, west; murder, north. Stairs, down.

Upstairs Hallway, South End
Corridor back north. Maid's bedroom to the east. Bathroom opposite, handy. South is the study.

In one corner is a stumpy rubber tree in a brown pot.

Maid's room. Sofa, wardrobe, standing lamp, bed. Door to the corridor.

By the crummy-view window is screwed a small silver hook.

On the low chest is a jar of face-cream.

Thrown in one corner of the sofa is a pile of men's clothing: someone changing in a hurry and flinging what they had on away.
action: Go north
response: Upstairs Hallway, South End
Corridor back north. Maid's bedroom to the east. Bathroom opposite, handy. South is the study.

In one corner is a stumpy rubber tree in a brown pot.

Upstairs Hallway, North End
Corridor, south; guest bedroom, west; murder, north. Stairs, down.

Bed, mirrored dresser, window. Door. Yucca. Blood, lots of it.

On the dresser is a green-shaded table lamp with bulb lit.
action: You open jar
response: The jar's about half-full.
action: You close jar
response: You close the jar of face-cream.
action: Keep going
response: (the black chevy door)

Upstairs Hallway, North End
Corridor, south; guest bedroom, west; murder, north. Stairs, down.

Joe appears from downstairs. "I'm sorry I took so long. But it's not from the dead guy. So I checked the blood type with some people; local doctors, the hospital, that sort of thing. It matches someone in the household, though. One Anthony Carpenter; the maid's boyfriend? And he's still not come back yet?" Joe raises an eyebrow, hands you the blood test report.

The policeman heads off downstairs.
(the black chevy)
You descend the half-circle of the stairs, into the hallway.

Stairs up, passage northwest, front door behind. Desk one side, hat-stand on the other.
(the black chevy)
(drawing back the latch first and opening the door)

Front door, front gate. Small diamond of glass in the door.

A hanging basket with a couple of petunias in is attached just to the left of the door.
(the black chevy)

Broken Top Boulevard, Outside No. 15
Your car. Front gate, leading up to the porch of the house.

A police squad car is parked outside No. 11, a little to the west of here.
action: Enter
response: You step into the porch.

Front door, front gate. Small diamond of glass in the door.

A hanging basket with a couple of petunias in is attached just to the left of the door.
action: Continue
response: (the black chevy)

Broken Top Boulevard, Outside No. 15
Your car. Front gate, leading up to the porch of the house.

A police squad car is parked outside No. 11, a little to the west of here.
(the black chevy)
You slide into the front seat.

Broken Top Boulevard, Outside No. 15 (in the black chevy)
The boulevard through the windscreen is lined with ash trees, thick trunks casting shadows and gnarled roots mangling up the sidewalk. You're sat in your car, parked too high up the kerb; just outside the gate to No. 15. Just an ordinary house.

The glove compartment is closed. Sat on the passenger seat is a whiskey bottle.

A police squad car is parked outside No. 11, a little to the west of here.
action: You take the bottle
response: Your fingers shiver on the glass as you lift it.
action: You open the bottle
response: Shaky fingers unscrew the cap. Oh, yeah.
action: You pry the glove compartment
response: (--> pray glove compartment)
-- I only got as far as wanting to pray.
action: Open glove
response: (unlocking it first - with the car key)
You pull open the compartment, and it catches after only opening a tiny crack. Stupid thing.

Up the road, a dog drifts in and out from between the trees.
action: You hit the glove
response: Leaning up in the seat, you give the thing a smack with both feet and it clicks shut.
action: Unlock glove with car key
response: You unlock the glove compartment.
action: Open glove
response: You pull open the compartment, and it catches again.

Sunlight gleams through the windshield.
action: You pry the compartment with the badge
response: (--> pray compartment with badge)
-- I only got as far as wanting to pray.
action: You put the cream on the compartment
response: The glove compartment isn't exactly wrinkled.

From the high street comes the rumble of cars.
action: You examine crack
response: The glove compartment is built under the dashboard and has a lock on it. It's open a crack, the damn thing's caught again.
action: You put the badge in the crack
response: You drop the badge through the crack into the glove compartment. Nice going.
action: You open the compartment with the opener
response: You flip the catch with the blade and the whole thing flaps open. The glove compartment has got a handwritten note in it.

Some little mutt is yammering away in the distance.
action: You read handwritten
response: The note you received, what, yesterday? Crabby handwriting, like the skink was scared or something. It reads:

Dear "Colin",

Let's get straight to business, shall we? I know who you
are, I know your name, so I'm not going to mess around with
this stupid arrangement of yours any more. I've already paid
you far too much.
Let me dictate terms for once: if we can't finish this for
good then I'm going to tell her. I'm going to tell
her that
you know, and that you've been blackmailing me. I may as
well; I don't have anything to lose. You do, as it's that - or

disappear from my life and Angela never knows.
It's time we spoke face to face and stopped all this silly
business with notes-under-doors. Meet me, here, tomorrow.
Tuesday. I will leave a key to the front door in the petunia
basket.

J. D.
action: You look at Colin
response: (--> x coin)
On closer inspection it's not a quarter, it's not even currency. It's a French franc, dated seven years ago.
action: You read the badge
response: Your police badge - oh yeah, this proves you're an upstanding, honest, officer of the goddamn law. It has a small pin on the back.

Sunlight gleams through the windshield.
action: You go to the master
response: You clamber out of the driving seat.

Broken Top Boulevard, Outside No. 15
The boulevard is lined with ash trees, thick trunks casting shadows and gnarled roots mangling up the sidewalk. Your car is parked too high up the kerb; just outside the gate to No. 15. Just an ordinary house.

A police squad car is parked outside No. 11, a little to the west of here.

You step into the porch.

Front door, front gate. Small diamond of glass in the door.

A hanging basket with a couple of petunias in is attached just to the left of the door.
action: You keep going
response: Stairs up, passage northwest, front door behind. Desk one side, hat-stand on the other.
action: Continue
response: You make your way upstairs around the curve of the staircase.

Upstairs Hallway, North End
Corridor, south; guest bedroom, west; murder, north. Stairs, down.
action: You clean the dresser with the whiskey
response: You carefully splash a drop - just a drop - of the fine, fine whiskey over the top of the dresser. Another splash and the stuff starts to wipe away nicely. You use your sleeve to mop it up.
action: You rub the pencil on the blank paper
response: You shade over the paper with the pencil, and the remains of a note emerge. The fragments of the letter are patchy, some full words, some you can work out without too much staring.

are,     ow your nam
stupid arr   em  t           ny more        already paid
you far       ch.
Le   e d  ta     r s for onc       e can't finish this for
od then I'm going to tell her. I'm goi    o tell her that
you know,           ou've be            ing me. I may as
well; I don't        ything to lose. You do
fi       ment and                            an   ou
p     rom my life.
's time we spoke fa      face an           ll thi
ith notes-under-  ors. M      , h      omor
esd        ll le          to th        do r     he p t  ia
et.

J. D.

No names, which makes it nicely suggestive, right? More useful that way.
action: About yourself
response: As good-looking as ever. Eyes red, chin unshaved, cheek bruised. Your whole body aches like a bombsite. Oh yeah, the finest in the state.

You're wearing your trenchcoat, and your scuffed black shoes.
action: You keep going
response: Upstairs Hallway, North End
Corridor, south; guest bedroom, west; murder, north. Stairs, down.

Upstairs Hallway, South End
Corridor back north. Maid's bedroom to the east. Bathroom opposite, handy. South is the study.

In one corner is a stumpy rubber tree in a brown pot.

Long and thin. Big window, big bookcase, big desk, very big chair. Door to the north.

On the mahogany desk are a wooden block and a telephone.

Leaning against the side of the desk is Jack's briefcase.

Upstairs Hallway, South End
Corridor back north. Maid's bedroom to the east. Bathroom opposite, handy. South is the study.

In one corner is a stumpy rubber tree in a brown pot.
action: Continue
response: Long and thin. Big window, big bookcase, big desk, very big chair. Door to the north.

On the mahogany desk are a wooden block and a telephone.

Leaning against the side of the desk is Jack's briefcase.
action: You dial 1488
response: (on the telephone)
You lift the receiver and dial. The phone rings, and rings, and rings, and eventually the company cuts it off for you. The phone goes dead. You replace the handset.
action: You look at phone
response: (the telephone)
A squat little black telephone, with a receiver and a dial. You should recognise it, you're allowed to use it once every time you're kept in. On the front is a sticker with the number: 3734.
action: You dial 3734
response: (on the telephone)
You lift the receiver and dial. Engaged. You replace the handset.
action: You look at the book
response: "The Complete Adventures of Slick Gurner." Pocket sized. Bin sized.

On the back flap, in blue ink, are the numbers 43 and 41.
action: You dial 4341
response: (on the telephone)
You lift the receiver and dial. There is no answer, unsurprisingly. You replace the handset.
action: You dial 4143
response: (on the telephone)
You lift the receiver and dial. The phone goes dead. You replace the handset.
action: You go to garden
response: This passage runs from the hallway southeast to the kitchen at the far north end of the house. There's not much here but the closed door westwards to the frost-bite blue living room, and a small cupboard set into the east wall. With no real natural light here the ambient dinginess of the house comes through like stain.

The cupboard is closed and locked.
action: You open the cupboard
response: (unlocking it first - with the closet key)
You open the small cupboard, revealing a black box and a shoe rack.
action: You look at the black box
response: A black metal box with a small brass lock; the kind people who can't afford a safe use to store their cheque books. Back home, you use a shoe-box.
action: You open the box
response: It seems to be locked.
action: You look at the shoe rack
response: It's a rack, made from a few bits of wire in a sort of bent mesh, on which you put shoes. As if the corner of the room wasn't good enough.

The shoe rack has got Jack's shoes and Emilia's shoes on it.
action: You examine the emilia's shoes
response: One of many pairs no doubt; these are functional - flat soled, soft white leather. The only decoration are slight frills to the seams, totally pointless, virtually invisible.
action: You look at the jack's shoes
response: These have got to be Jack's shoes - they're spit polished; they look like they haven't seen a days use but for the thin, worn down soles. The laces are an even length out of the eyelets. Got to be.
action: You go to garden
response: A plush little kitchen, with a kitchenette area full of drawers and cookers and a sink, and one long table filling the rest of the room, where they eat. A flapping swing door leads north onto the garden, and lets in a little air. The passage back to the hallway is opposite, above that door is a cheerful round clock. To the east is a pantry.

There's a young dark-haired girl here. She must be the maid who phoned the station.

On the worktop are a closed biscuit barrel and a ceramic water-jug.

The girl looks up and notices you, and leaps to her feet, flustered. She begins speaking hurriedly. "You are from the police? You are a policeman? It is terrible, quite terrible." She has traces of a French accent, a stain like day-old mascara. "We were all here, when it happened, all of us. Like some kind of joke... I have not said who I am. Emilia Jordane. The maid, here." A useless curtsey, then she sits back down at the table and waits to get done.

The maid shrieks! She has seen the knife.

Emilia's eyes are on the whiskey bottle in your hand. "We do not have whiskey in the house, Inspector, not since Anthony started to live here. It is not good for him. He - used to drink a lot, Inspector." Her face darkens a little. "So did Jack."
action: You examine maid
response: French by blood, you can see that around the soft lines of her face and the redness of the lips. She's pretty - sure, she's a real young flower, with long black hair tied back, and a look of quiet respect that takes little getting used to, you'd reckon. She's wearing comfortable casual clothes, so you'd hardly pin her as a maid except for the dishcloth and her hands neatly folded in her lap; and that subservient look that fills her rich brown eyes.

The maid tries not to look at the knife.
action: You ask Maid about Anthony
response: She smiles. "Anthony is my boyfriend. We met last year. He is wonderful, Inspector. He has had some problems in the past, Inspector. He was an alcoholic when I met him, it was terrible. But he is through that now, and I am very proud of him. He is staying here, with me, at the moment - you will meet him when he comes back, I suppose, Inspector. This will all be a great shock to him when he returns.

"I suppose we will be leaving now, we will get a place of our own. It is not so bad, I suppose."
action: You ask Maid about Carpenter
response: "He's a wonderful man. He is very kind to me. I do not think Mrs. Draginam likes to have him stay, but Mr. Draginam allows it. I think they get - got - on well, Anthony and Jack. He has had some problems in the past, Inspector. He was an alcoholic when I met him, it was terrible. But he is through that now, and I am very proud of him. He went out just after lunch, at about half past one. He went swimming. He'll probably be back quite soon."
action: You ask Maid about the cerestex
response: "Those are Anthony's painkillers, Inspector. He has sprained his ankle."

The maid avoids the letter-opener with her eyes.
action: You ask Maid about Jenny
response: Emilia has no idea who you're talking about. "Is there someone at the library like that?" she asks. You shake your head.
action: You ask Maid about Jack
response: "I should tell you what happened, yes? Please, sit down." They don't often ask, so you go ahead.

"It was a little before 2pm. I was here clearing up the things from lunch. Mrs. Draginam was in the living room with her friend Mr. Matheston, I think. Anyway - I was singing to myself and I didn't know anything until there was this most awful scream. I thought Mrs. Draginam, she must have dropped something, so I went upstairs with my dustpan. And the bedroom door, it was open - I could see blood already, from the stairs I could see it. Angela was there also, with her back to me, by the window. She was closing it. She told me to call the police. She didn't turn around - she was shaking. Such a shock.

"So I called the police. You. That is what happened."
action: You ask Maid about Jack
response: "He was a good employer, I suppose, Inspector. He paid my wages on time. They were good wages. And he kept me on - I know Mrs. Draginam did not think I was needed any more. Jack insisted."

The maid's eyes stay fixed on you.
action: You look around
response: Kitchen (on the chair)
A plush little kitchen, with a kitchenette area full of drawers and cookers and a sink, and one long table filling the rest of the room, where they eat. A flapping swing door leads north onto the garden, and lets in a little air. The passage back to the hallway is opposite, above that door is a cheerful round clock. To the east is a pantry.

The maid is sitting at the table, trying to look all mournful and European.

On the worktop are a closed biscuit barrel and a ceramic water-jug.
action: Go north
response: You stand.

A small square garden, borded on three sides by a high privet hedge and on the fourth by the house. The swing door south to the kitchen flaps lazily in the light breeze. The garden is in shade, the afternoon sun not yet pushing over the chimney stack, and it's all lawn, but for the beat-up shed in the northwest corner.

A thick net of dog roses covers the wall of the house.

There's a sweet smell coming from the roses.
action: You look at the roses
response: A thick bush of thorny roses, which grips the wall of the house up towards one of the windows, growing out of a muddy flowerbed.
action: You look at the flowerbed
response: A thick bush of roses grows from the flowerbed up the side of the house.

In the soil there are some footprints, clear as mud.

There's a sweet smell coming from the roses.
action: You erase the footprints
response: You muss all over the footprints already there, pretty much obscuring them.
action: You examine the footprints
response: The footprints are quite clear, and right at the base of the roses.
action: You look at your surroundings
response: A small square garden, borded on three sides by a high privet hedge and on the fourth by the house. The swing door south to the kitchen flaps lazily in the light breeze. The garden is in shade, the afternoon sun not yet pushing over the chimney stack, and it's all lawn, but for the beat-up shed in the northwest corner.

A thick net of dog roses covers the wall of the house.
action: You look at the roses
response: A thick bush of thorny roses, which grips the wall of the house up towards one of the windows, growing out of a muddy flowerbed.
action: You examine the hedge
response: A thick privet hedge, about five foot high, bordering the garden on three sides. On the east side there's a medium size hole, a gap between branches. Large enough for a cat, or a desperate man.

There's a sweet smell coming from the roses.
action: You go east
response: No. 17's Back Garden
Well-mown grass covers the garden of No. 17 which stands to the south. Luckily the place seems pretty empty. The garden is bordered on the east side by a low stone wall, and on the other by a privet hedge.

The coloured back door of the house is closed.
action: You look at the wall
response: A low wall of cement-topped bricks, that you could scramble over. It borders the garden to the east.
action: Go east
response: There's a face in a window - you wait for it to go before crossing the wall.

No. 19's Back Garden

The door to the house is shut.

At the back of the garden is a clapped-out shed.
action: You look at the shed
response: It's a beat-up, join-the-dots shed. It's what husbands buy when they want somewhere cheap to bang the mistress.
action: You open the shed
response: Let them be. You can take up gardens when you lose your badge.
action: You open it
response: The door seems pretty firmly closed.

But all your fiddling has attracted attention - the door opens and a frail old gent appears, giving you an earful, for being scruffy and for being unauthorised in a back garden.

Still, the job's got its perks - one flash of the badge and your treated with the utmost courtesy; offered tea, spoken to demurely, and led carefully - so as not to see anything they didn't want you to, you guess - to the front door; and finally booted out into the street like the stray you are.

Broken Top Boulevard, Outside No. 19
Nice houses. Your car, to the west. Down the street, some yammering dog.

A police squad car is parked outside No. 11, a little to the west of here.
action: You go east
response: You scrape your hand on the top of the wall as you pull yourself up.

No. 21's Back Garden

The bright painted door to the house is closed.

There is a greenhouse is one corner of the garden.
action: Examine greenhouse
response: The greenhouse has a few soggy plants in it, a load of muck on the floor and some broken pots. Yeah, it's a real labour of love.
action: You go to the east
response: You take a running jump, but basically fall over the hedge.

No. 23's Back Garden

On the ground is a stick.

A cat prowls the grass, stalking the world.

The coloured back door of the house is closed.

The cat sniffs the air and pricks its tail.
action: You examine the stick
response: It's a stick.
action: You take the stick
response: Taken.

The cat mews a little and chases a beetle. And catches it, and crushes it.
action: You go east
response: There's a face in a window - you wait for it to go before crossing the wall.

No. 25's Back Garden

The bright painted door to the house is closed.

You can also see a garden here.
action: You go east
response: A branch scratches your face as you scramble across.

No. 27's Back Garden

The door to the south is closed.

There is a greenhouse is one corner of the garden.
action: You examine the garden
response: (the garden)
action: Go east
response: There's a hole in the hedge here, which you squirm through.

No. 29's Back Garden

The door to the house is shut.

Nasty mouldy garden furniture is laid out of the lawn.
action: Go east
response: You hop up onto the wall, and step down into the next garden.

No. 31's Back Garden

The mesh door to the house is shut.

At the back of the garden is a clapped-out shed.
action: Go east
response: You take a running jump, but basically fall over the hedge.

No. 33's Back Garden

The door to the south is closed.

There is a greenhouse is one corner of the garden.
action: You go to the south
response: The door is solidly locked. Luckily the house seems pretty empty - no-one notices your rattling.
action: You go to the west
response: Your coat snags but you make it over.

No. 31's Back Garden

The mesh door to the house is shut.

At the back of the garden is a clapped-out shed.
action: You go to the south
response: The door seems pretty firmly closed.

But all your fiddling has attracted attention - the door opens and a fat sweaty guy appears, giving you an earful, for being scruffy and for being unauthorised in a back garden.

Still, the job's got its perks - one flash of the badge and your treated with the utmost courtesy; offered tea, spoken to demurely, and led carefully - so as not to see anything they didn't want you to, you guess - to the front door; and finally booted out into the street like the stray you are.

Broken Top Boulevard, Outside No. 31
Nice houses. Your car, to the west. Down the street, some yammering dog.

A police squad car is parked outside No. 11, a little to the west of here.
action: You look at the dog
response: The dog's somewhere else down the road. You can hear its damn yapping.

How many bodies have you seen by now? How many empty houses? How many wasted lives? Not enough to save your own, it would seem.
action: You go to the dog
response: The dog's somewhere else to the west along the road. You can hear its damn yapping.
action: You go west
response: Broken Top Boulevard, Outside No. 29
Nice houses. Your car, to the west. Down the street, some yammering dog.

A police squad car is parked outside No. 11, a little to the west of here.
action: You go west
response: Broken Top Boulevard, Outside No. 27
Nice houses. Your car, to the west. Down the street, some yammering dog.

A police squad car is parked outside No. 11, a little to the west of here.
action: Go west
response: Broken Top Boulevard, Outside No. 25
Nice houses. Your car, to the west. Down the street, some yammering dog.

You're standing right by a streetlight, on the edge of the kerb.

A police squad car is parked outside No. 11, a little to the west of here.
action: You go to the west
response: Broken Top Boulevard, Outside No. 23
Nice houses. Your car, to the west. Down the street, some yammering dog.

A police squad car is parked outside No. 11, a little to the west of here.
action: Go west
response: Broken Top Boulevard, Outside No. 21
Nice houses. Your car, to the west. Down the street, some yammering dog.

A police squad car is parked outside No. 11, a little to the west of here.

From the high street comes the distant rumble of cars.
action: Go west
response: Broken Top Boulevard, Outside No. 19
Nice houses. Your car, to the west. Down the street, some yammering dog.

You're standing right by a streetlight, on the edge of the kerb.

A police squad car is parked outside No. 11, a little to the west of here.
action: Go west
response: Broken Top Boulevard, Outside No. 17
Nice houses. Your car, to the west. Down the street, some yammering dog.

A police squad car is parked outside No. 11, a little to the west of here.

A light breeze tickles your face and makes it itch.
action: You go west
response: Broken Top Boulevard, Outside No. 15
Your car. Front gate, leading up to the porch of the house.

A police squad car is parked outside No. 11, a little to the west of here.
action: You go to garden
response: You step into the porch.

Front door, front gate. Small diamond of glass in the door.

A hanging basket with a couple of petunias in is attached just to the left of the door.
action: You go to garden
response: Stairs up, passage northwest, front door behind. Desk one side, hat-stand on the other.
action: You go to garden
response: Southeast to the hallway, north to the kitchen. Closet. Door to the living room.

The cupboard is open.
action: You go to garden
response: Sink, drawers. Cooker. Table, chairs. Swing door to the garden. Clock. Pantry. Passage to the south.

The maid is at the table.

On the worktop are a closed biscuit barrel and a ceramic water-jug.

The maid tries not to look at the knife.
action: You ask Maid about the garden
response: "I love the garden, Inspector! It's only small, but I enjoy tending it. You should see it in summer, not now, when all the flowers have bloomed. Jack - Mr. Draginam - used to watch me pruning the roses from the study window. Said I distracted him."
action: You ask Maid about the shed
response: "Well, we keep gardening tools there," the maid says. "And Mr Matheston, he likes the quiet I suppose."
action: You ask Maid about Matheston
response: "Mr Matheston is a good friend of Mrs Draginam. He's from the church. They often spend time talking together, many hours. He's a very nice man. I'm sure he couldn't be anything to do with... this. I think he was in the living room when it happened. Now he's in the shed. For whatever reason I do not know, but he likes to sit there sometimes."

The maid avoids the letter-opener with her eyes.
action: You ask Maid about the letter opener
response: "Yes, I know the one. Jack - Mr. Daginham - kept it on his desk in the study. It was for his business mail. He got so many letters every day it said it hurt his fingers to tear them all."
action: You ask Maid about the phone
response: -- Be more specific about what you want to ask Emilia the maid about.
action: Topics
response: (talking to Emilia the maid)
-- You could try talking to Emilia the maid about: Jack Draginam, the whiskey bottle, the medicine tube, the silver key, the jar of face-cream or the scrap of pink paper.
action: You ask Maid about silver key
response: "Every woman has her secrets," she blushes.
action: You ask Maid about the face cream
response: "Every woman has her secrets," she blushes.

The maid's eyes stay fixed on you.
action: You go to garden
response: Swing door. Flower-bed. Roses climbing up the house. A shed. A hedge.

A thick net of dog roses covers the wall of the house.
action: You examine the shed
response: Beaten-up. Dilapidated. If this shed were a bum you would have hauled its ass down G-block so many times you'd recognise it by smell.
action: You knock on the shed
response: No answer here.

There's a sweet smell coming from the roses.
action: You enter the shed
response: (opening the beaten-up shed door first)
You open the beaten-up shed door.

The shed smells musty, like long-lost confessions - four rickety pine walls filled with gardening tools, and a lawnmower, but still with plenty of space for the terminally rich to potter around in. One small dirty window has a view over the garden outside and the back of the house.

A chess set has been set up on an upturned wheelbarrow and laid out mid-game.

Angela had mentioned someone called William Matheston who was in the shed: this old guy reclining in the deckchair must be him.

Matheston looks up and makes eye contact.
action: You show the badge to Matheston
response: William Matheston is unimpressed.

"There you are again," Matheston says, rising to his feet to shake your hand, though if you've ever seen his mush before it didn't stick.

"My name is Reverend William Matheston." He must think you're part of his flock. "Have you spoken to Angela already? Tell me, is she holding up?"
action: You ask the rev about himself
response: (--> ask red about himself)
-- You referred to something that can't be interacted with at present.
action: You ask the wm about himself
response: (--> ask am about himself)
-- You referred to something that can't be interacted with at present.
action: Topics
response: (talking to William Matheston)
-- You could try talking to William Matheston about: Jack Draginam, Angela Draginam, the whiskey bottle, the medicine tube, the silver key or the jar of face-cream.
action: You ask William about Jack
response: "I'm sorry, Inspector. I don't believe I can help you there."
action: You ask William about William
response: "I'm a vicar, at the local church. I've known Angela ever since they moved to the area, about three and a half years ago. She was very distraught on account of losing the baby. I helped her through that. Helped her to reconcile it with God. And we became firm friends - all three of us, her, God and myself."
action: You ask William about Angela
response: "She's an excellent woman, Inspector. One of the most devoted members of my congregation. Strong at heart too, though she wouldn't let you see it. We've been firm friends for many years."

"Well," Matheston adds, mostly to himself. "Maybe Angela is only as well as could be expected."
action: You ask William about Angela
response: "She's an excellent woman, Inspector. One of the most devoted members of my congregation. Strong at heart too, though she wouldn't let you see it. We've been firm friends for many years."

Matheston considers the board carefully. "Do you play chess, Inspector?" he asks.
action: You examine the chess
response: (the chess board)
The chess board is kinda thin: white has a few pawns as backup and two rooks roaming free. Black has an assortment: a knight, a queen, a pawn, and one of those guys that looks like an asparagus hiding off in a corner.
action: Yes
response: "I'm glad. Excellent game. Full of subtleties. Things you don't see that tie together into something by the end." He shakes his head. "If life were a little more like chess, I think people would find it easier."
action: You ask William about the chess
response: "It's an interesting position," William says. "Black is on the move. Two rooks can't attack directly but they do create deadly alignments. Traps. As for white, it's spread very thin. The queen is in retreat. That bishop there is watching the long diagonal but doesn't look at all ready to come into play. I think the problem centres on the knight and the pawn. It's white to play, by the way."

William considers the board in front of him carefully.
action: You ask William about the chess
response: "I think it's about pressure, on the knight, to force a sacrifice of the pawn. But that does leave open what part the other pieces play."

"I see you're the kind of man who takes his work very seriously," Matheston observes, quite out of the blue. "I'm the same. It's what I recognise in you, I think, that dedication."
action: You ask William about the chess
response: "I think it's about pressure, on the knight, to force a sacrifice of the pawn. But that does leave open what part the other pieces play."
action: You ask William about the bishop
response: "I suppose you want to hear my version of events? Well - Mrs. Draginam and I were sat in the living room, talking. To my knowledge Emilia the maid was in the kitchen - we couldn't hear her, though, due to our conversation and the television on in the background. However, at some point, around 2pm maybe, perhaps earlier, there was a heavy 'thump' from upstairs - like a large dictionary falling from a shelf.

"Angela stood and went to the doorway, to see if she could see anything. We expected Jack to shout something, you would - but there wasn't anything. So she went upstairs and into the bedroom. A few moments later she gave a terrible shriek - I rose to go and see, and Emilia streaked past me, up the stairs and into the room. I waited at the foot. Then the maid came back and went to call the police. I went to comfort Angela - I found her in her bedroom, sat on the bed. That's about it, I think."

The vicar is deep in thought.

-- I didn't recognise that as a topic of conversation.
action: You ask William about Emilia
response: "The maid, Inspector? That sweet young thing, she couldn't be anything to do with this, I'm sure."
action: You ask William about Anthony
response: "The maid has a young man called Anthony, I think. I'm not sure I've ever spoken to him beyond a simple hello. I know Mrs. Draginam despairs slightly of the kind of man he is, but she can hardly see her way to preventing the maid from having something pleasant around, considering."
action: You ask William about yourself
response: "I'm sorry, Inspector. I don't believe I can help you there."

William is counting through moves on his fingers.
action: You ask William about William
response: "As I said, I'm the vicar here."
action: You ask William about the baby
response: "It was a terrible, terrible loss. I don't think Angela ever quite got over it. And Jack, of course, had no sympathy in him whatsoever."
action: You ask William about the shed
response: "This is my little part of the house," he replies. "It's not much." No buts there.

Matheston looks up from the board to look straight at you.
action: You ask William about the whiskey
response: "I'm sorry, Inspector. I don't believe I can help you there."
action: You read the handwritten note
response: (in the trashy novel)
You can't find that chapter. The chapters are listed in the contents at the front.
action: You read the contents
response: (in the trashy novel)
THE COMPLETE ADVENTURES OF SLICK GURNER
-- as serialised in "Woman's Weekly"

Chapter one .... "Something in the Water? - Slick's First Mission" -- Page  2
Chapter two .... "Essential Fish Oils - Slick Gurner in Love" --
Page  23
Chapter three .. "Carpentry is Easy - Slick Teaches a Lesson" --
Page  64
Chapter four ... "Amethysts Have Feelings Too - Slick Goes Too Far"
-- Page  83
Chapter five ... "Whose Traffic Cone Is That, Comrade? - Gurner in Russia" -- Page  105
Chapter six .... "Try Next Door, Mister - Gurner has Amnesia!" --
Page  123
Chapter seven .. "Every Dog Has His Viola - Gurner's Last Bow" --
Page  144

William moves a pawn one space forwards.
action: You ask William about the chess
response: "I think it's about pressure, on the knight, to force a sacrifice of the pawn. But that does leave open what part the other pieces play."
action: You go to Emilia
response: The kitchen's the place to find her.

Swing door. Flower-bed. Roses climbing up the house. A shed. A hedge.

A thick net of dog roses covers the wall of the house.
action: You go to Emilia
response: The kitchen's the place to find her.

Sink, drawers. Cooker. Table, chairs. Swing door to the garden. Clock. Pantry. Passage to the south.

The maid is at the table.

On the worktop are a closed biscuit barrel and a ceramic water-jug.

The maid tries not to look at the knife.
action: You go to Angela
response: (opening the living room door first)
You open the living room door.

The living room is bright blue, the wallpaper shines out like the flashing siren of an ambulance, and isn't helped by a light green sofa and a wide window, south-facing, overlooking the sun-drenched street. Opposite the open door in the east wall is a small cabinet, and next to that is a television set.

Joe is sat on the sofa, reading a newspaper.

Mrs. Draginam looks up as you enter.

On top of the set is a magazine.

"That'd better be a gift for the bereaved," he snarls, nodding at the whiskey bottle in your hand.

Angela's eyes are fixed on the photograph, though from there she can't see what's on it. But then as soon as she notices that you're looking, she looks away.
action: You ask Angela about the photograph
response: She sighs, and turns to stare out of the window as she speaks.

"I found it, there on the desk. When I came in, the mirror was tilted, I saw it in the reflection. I raced over to the window, and snatched it, I stepped right over his body... and just then Emilia came rushing in. I couldn't... I couldn't... I turned my back, I pretended I was just closing the window, you see. And then when she'd gone I left it in my room. I was going to hide it, but I didn't get a chance - all those policeman - until you arrived, Inspector. There. That's my confession."

Joe looks at her sternly. "So you lied in your statement? That's a serious offence."

"Yes, I know," she replies brusquely. The policeman looks up at you and raises a brow. He takes the photo from you for a closer look then hands it back, Angela watching him do so with disdain.

Angela gasps as she sees the steel letter opener. "That's Jacks? From his study. Was he.. it.. oh, my, that's awful.." With horror, Angela recoils.
action: Topics
response: -- Please be specific who you want to talk to.
action: Topics angela
response: -- You could try talking to Angela Draginam about: Jack Draginam, herself, William Matheston, the whiskey bottle, the medicine tube or the silver key.
action: You ask Angela about the the silver key
response: "I think those are the tablets Emilia's boyfriend has been taking for his sprain."

Angela notices the bottle in your hand. "One of my husband's, I suppose. Nice to see it's not empty."
action: You ask Angela about the silver key
response: Angela takes the key and peers at it. "Front door," she says finally. "Is that the maid's copy? We only have three. Emilia has one, I have one," she pats a pocket, "and Jack had one, of course. Emilia lends hers to her boyfriend when he stays too, I think."
action: You ask Angela about herself
response: "What's there to say Inspector? I'm just another housewife. Jack and I were married for twelve years. We never had any children because of his work, we live here because of his work. I don't see that any of it's interesting to you."
action: You ask Angela about Jack
response: "You've had a good look around up there? Good. Well," she straightens down her skirts with one hand, methodically. "I suppose you want to know what happened?"
action: Yes
response: [Please specifiy whom you want to say that to using PERSON, YES.]
action: Yes
response: "Well. I was sat here, in the living room, talking to William - I suppose you'll have to talk to William too, won't you? He's outside in the garden right now, I think. Anyway, there was this loud thump, from upstairs. I expected - well, you know, to hear Jack call downstairs, or curse or something. When I didn't hear anything, I thought I ought to check. I thought maybe he'd slipped and hit his head. I went upstairs to see... and there he was, lying in a pool of blood." She raises a hand to her mouth. She is staring down at the floor as she speaks. "It was horrible!

"I must have screamed, I don't remember. Anyway, Emilia came running up the stairs to see what the matter was."
action: You ask Angela about the whiskey
response: "Jack liked to drink, a little. We used to both, I suppose. These days we keep the alcohol hidden. Anthony's little problem."
action: You ask Angela about Anthony
response: "The maid's boyfriend? I barely know him. When he stays - well, he keeps himself to himself as much as he can. He works quite a lot too. Used to have a problem with drink but he's much better now. But Emilia seems happy enough. He's out - he left right before it happened. Went swimming. The only sport he can do with that sprain of his."
action: You ask Angela about the cerestex
response: "I think those are the tablets Emilia's boyfriend has been taking for his sprain."
action: You accuse angela
response: "That's not funny, Inspector. We were having problems, sure, but nothing new, nothing major... But if you don't believe me you can ask William. I was with him when it happened. You can ask him."
action: You arrest angela
response: You keep your voice down so that no-one overhears. "Mrs. Draginam? Well, I suppose it's usually the wives in cases like this, and I've no doubt that Mr. Draginam did a hundred things wrong every minute and maybe some of them was real bad too. But we can't arrest a woman on nothing, even if she did close the window in the crime scene. Get a motive sorted, and maybe we can give this a shot."
action: You show the photograph to Joe
response: (the black and white incriminating photograph to the policeman)
He grins. "Good, isn't it?" is his excited reply, and then like a five-star idiot he notices Angela and becomes suddenly very timid. "Do you want that analysing?" Joe asks.
action: Analyse photo
response: (the black and white incriminating photograph)
"Let's see - I'll run an analysis on the blood, but I think we can guess. I'll pass it by the fake-spotters, get blow-ups of the faces - hell, I'll get copies made for Christmas. Good going, Inspector."

The policeman leaves through the living room door.

He's left his newspaper on the sofa.
action: Examine newspaper
response: The main story on the front of the paper is the bank heist down on fourth last night. It seems the robbers managed to escape the cops with $10,000 - a pretty meagre horde, but they'd been stupid enough to strike right after the cash van had come. Oh, and for once the paper can't be blamed though for getting facts wrong; they aren't to know the robbers only have $9,000 of the loot.

Other stories are the old lady who won the lottery, the kids from some school who got hit by a truck, nothing big. There's a crossword on the back page, with some baseball results.

Angela stares with blank eyes at the blank TV.
action: You ask Angela about the novel
response: "So you just want to insult my taste in books? Fine. Yes, I read Slick Gurner books," she snaps irritably. "Those are page numbers on the back flap, by the way," she adds quickly.
action: You look at the crossword
response: +++++++++++
1    |2    |     |     |3    |     |4  E
#####|5    |#####| +++++++++++
#####|     |#####|#####|     |#####|   X
#####|     |#####| +++++++++++
|7    |     |     |     |
|     |     | +++++++++++
#####|     |#####|     |#####|
#####|     |#####| +++++++++++
#####|     |#####|8    |9    |
10   |     |11   | +++++++++++
13   |     |14   |     |     |#####|
#####|     | +++++++++++
#####|     |#####|     |#####|     |#####|     |#####|     | +++++++++++
C
A
16 N

+++++++++++
#####|     |#####|     |#####|     |#####|#####|     |#####| +++++++++++
#####|     |#####|17   |     |     |     |     |     |     | +++++++++++

Angela glares at you like all this was your fault.
action: You look at the clues
response: +++++++++++
1    |2    |     |     |3    |     |4  E
#####|5    |#####| +++++++++++
#####|     |#####|#####|     |#####|   X
#####|     |#####| +++++++++++
|7    |     |     |     |
|     |     | +++++++++++
#####|     |#####|     |#####|
#####|     |#####| +++++++++++
#####|     |#####|8    |9    |
10   |     |11   | +++++++++++
13   |     |14   |     |     |#####|
#####|     | +++++++++++
#####|     |#####|     |#####|     |#####|     |#####|     | +++++++++++
C
A
16 N

+++++++++++
#####|     |#####|     |#####|     |#####|#####|     |#####| +++++++++++
#####|     |#####|17   |     |     |     |     |     |     | +++++++++++
action: Topics
response: (talking to Angela Draginam)
-- You could try talking to Angela Draginam about: Jack Draginam, the whiskey bottle, the medicine tube, the silver key, the jar of face-cream or the scrap of pink paper.
action: You ask Angela about face cream
response: "Her face-cream?" Angela looks surprised. "I've borrowed it once or twice, maybe. It's a good brand."
action: You ask Angela about the passport
response: -- Be more specific about what you want to ask Angela Draginam about.
action: You ask Angela about the suitcase
response: She doesn't even flinch. "It's no crime to have a packed suitcase, is it? I was about to go on holiday."
action: You ask Angela about the holiday
response: "Just a holiday. William was taking me upstate to where his parents live. Jack didn't mind, of course. Church trip. Not something he would have cared for himself."
action: You go to the guest bedroom
response: Southeast to the hallway, north to the kitchen. Closet. Door to the living room.

The cupboard is open.
action: You go to guest bedroom
response: Stairs up, passage northwest, front door behind. Desk one side, hat-stand on the other.
action: You go to the guest bedroom
response: Bed, nightstand, wicker chair. Door to the corridor.

On the nightstand is a silver frame.

A tall teak wardrobe leans against one wall.

The wicker chair is over by the wardrobe.

You can also see a toiletry bag, a wide open pink suitcase and a wedding photo here.
action: You take the passport
response: (Angela's passport)
You already have that.
action: Continue
response: Two armchairs, a door. Small cabinet for drinks, another that's a TV.

Mrs. Draginam glares at you as you approach.

On top of the set is a magazine.

Angela picks up the glossy magazine and flicks it open.
action: You show passport to Angela
response: (Angela's passport to Angela Draginam)
Angela Draginam is unimpressed.
action: You go to the pantry
response: Sink, drawers. Cooker. Table, chairs. Swing door to the garden. Clock. Pantry. Passage to the south.

The maid is at the table.

On the worktop are a closed biscuit barrel and a ceramic water-jug.
action: You go to the pantry
response: The pantry's well-stocked, with cans they bought because they had nothing else to spend the money on. A few bags of potatoes fill one shelf, below that a fruit basket, some hams and bacon. There's a door west when you've finished eyeing up their food.

Sat on a shelf is a dustpan.

You can also see a broken plate here.
action: You look at plate
response: A white dinner plate, with a deep crack running three-quarters of its length.
action: You examine the potato bag
response: (--> x potatoes bag)
What, are you training for your new job in the burger bar?
action: You examine basket
response: What, are you training for your new job in the burger bar?
action: You look at the hams
response: (--> x ham)
What, are you training for your new job in the burger bar?

Joe appears from out again. He returns the photograph to your sweaty little hands. "Well, the blood belongs to you-know-who. Where did you find it? In the room? Anyway. The boys in the lab were happy to give it some close study. It's no fake." Of course it's not a fake. You can't fake high art like this.

The policeman heads off out again.
action: You go to the car
response: (the black chevy)

Sink, drawers. Cooker. Table, chairs. Swing door to the garden. Clock. Pantry. Passage to the south.

The maid is at the table.

On the worktop are a closed biscuit barrel and a ceramic water-jug.
action: You go to the car
response: (the black chevy)

Southeast to the hallway, north to the kitchen. Closet. Door to the living room.

The cupboard is open.
action: You go to car
response: (the black chevy)

Stairs up, passage northwest, front door behind. Desk one side, hat-stand on the other.
action: You go to the car
response: (the black chevy)

Front door, front gate. Small diamond of glass in the door.

A hanging basket with a couple of petunias in is attached just to the left of the door.
action: You go to the car
response: (the black chevy)

Broken Top Boulevard, Outside No. 15
Your car. Front gate, leading up to the porch of the house.

A police squad car is parked outside No. 11, a little to the west of here.
action: You listen
response: Somewhere to the west a dog is yapping.
action: Go west
response: Broken Top Boulevard, Outside No. 13
Nice houses. Your car, to the east. Down the street, some yammering dog.

You're standing right by a streetlight, on the edge of the kerb.

A police squad car is parked outside No. 11, a little to the west of here.
action: You go west
response: Broken Top Boulevard, Outside No. 11
Nice houses. Your car, to the east. Down the street, some yammering dog.

A police squad car is parked here.
action: You listen
response: Somewhere to the west a dog is yapping.

Sunlight trickles through the trees; your neck itches under the heavy coat.
action: You go west
response: Broken Top Boulevard, Outside No. 9
Nice houses. Your car, to the east. Down the street, some yammering dog.

A police squad car is parked outside No. 11, a little to the east of here.
action: Go west
response: Broken Top Boulevard, Outside No. 7
Nice houses. Your car, to the east. Down the street, some yammering dog.

You're standing right by a streetlight, on the edge of the kerb.

A police squad car is parked outside No. 11, a little to the east of here.

A small dog runs up to you from the west.
action: You look at Dog
response: A small, sleek white mutt mongrel thing, with a voice he seems sure proud of. No doubt the pride and joy of some old dear on the street. If you had the energy you'd hit him with your car.

The dog scampers away to the east.
action: Go east
response: Broken Top Boulevard, Outside No. 9
Nice houses. Your car, to the east.

A police squad car is parked outside No. 11, a little to the east of here.

There is a small dog here, running round in circles.

The dog scampers away to the west.
action: You throw the stick
response: Dropped.

Up the road, a dog drifts in and out from between the trees.
action: You take the stick
response: Taken.

A light breeze tickles your face and makes it itch.
action: Go west
response: Broken Top Boulevard, Outside No. 7
Nice houses. Your car, to the east.

You're standing right by a streetlight, on the edge of the kerb.

A police squad car is parked outside No. 11, a little to the east of here.

There is a small dog here, running round in circles.

The dog scampers away to the west.
action: Go west
response: Broken Top Boulevard, Outside No. 5
Nice houses. Your car, to the east.

A police squad car is parked outside No. 11, a little to the east of here.

There is a small dog here, running round in circles.

The dog scampers away to the east.
action: You go east
response: Broken Top Boulevard, Outside No. 7
Nice houses. Your car, to the east.

You're standing right by a streetlight, on the edge of the kerb.

A police squad car is parked outside No. 11, a little to the east of here.

There is a small dog here, running round in circles.
action: You throw the stick
response: You lob the stick down the street. The dog wastes no time in going off in pursuit.
action: You accuse yourself
response: You're guilty of enough - spending a whole month's advance on tequila, beating to death that Indian kid in the cell in January, being a crummy cop and not solving a single case for a good long while. You don't need accusations, you've got a string of them. You need to sort it out.