Bob Kiwi & Company
( Need A ) CLUE
PART THE SECOND
Ferdie: It's not Wadsworth!
Bob: The butler did it!
Everyone one stares at D'gal, who gets an innocent 'Who, me?' expression on his face.
Squeaks: Stand back! Give him air! * kneels next to Drake * Let me see. * checks Drake for signs of life * He's dead. You poor, stupid duck.
Ferdia: Who had the gun?
Squeaks: I did.
Bobetta: Then you shot him!
Squeaks: I didn't!
Bob: A likely story.
Bobetta: Well, you had the gun. If you didn't shoot him, who did?
Drake is turned over.
Squeaks: Nobody! Look, there's no gunshot wound. Wait, then how did he die?
Ferdie: That's a pretty neat trick.
Bobetta: But we clearly heard the gun fire!
Bob is eyeing Squeaks suspiciously.
Squeaks: * protesting * Somebody tried to grab the gun from me in the dark and the gun went off.
Ferdia: Look! The bullet broke that vase on the mantel!
Everyone rushes for the mantel simultaneously, causing confusion.
Iiwi: She's absolutely right. Look, there's a bullet hole here in the wall.
Bob: Well, there goes that theory.
Ferdie grabs Squeaks by the lapels.
Ferdie: How did he die?
Squeaks: I don't know! * shoves him away * I'm not a forensic expert.
Ferdia: Well, one of us must have killed him!
Ferdie: Well, I didn't do it.
Bobetta: Oh, I need to go shopping!
They all stare at her.
Bobetta: For a funeral outfit!
Bob is pacing and sipping cognac, trying to determine who the guilty party is.
Squeaks: * alarmed * Maybe he was poisoned!
Bob drops the glass in revulsion and starts to scream. He won't stop. Ferdie takes him to a sofa, offering words of comfort. He sits, but won't stop screaming.
Bobetta slaps him. Bob is appalled.
Bobetta: Try to show a little dignity, darling.
Squeaks: * to Green * Was the brandy poisoned?
Ferdie: I don't know.
Iiwi: * picks up the glass. All the cognac has spilled out * Looks like we'll never know.
Ferdie: Unless . . . unless he dies, too.
They all rush over to scrutinize Bob. They are interrupted by a scream that erupts from another room. Everyone gasps and rushes into the hall. They discover the sound is coming from the billiard room, but the door is locked.
D'Gal: Open up!
Ferdie: It must be the murderer!
Squeaks: Why would he scream?
Iiwi: He must have a victim in there.
Ferdie: Oh, my God! Yvette!
Ferdia: Out of my way.
She kicks open the door. The others rush in after her.
Ferdie: You're alive!
Gracie: No sanks to you! * points to D'gal*
D'Gal: What do you mean?
Gracie: You lock me up with a murderer, you eediot!
Bob: Psst! Ix-nay on the eediot-bay.
Ferdia: So the murderer is in this room.
Gracie: Mai Oui!
Ferdie: But where?
Gracie: Where? 'Ere!
Bob looks behind the door.
Gracie: We are all looking at eem. Or 'er. Is what Mrs. White said in ze study--one of you is ze killer!
Squeaks: How did you know we said that?
Gracie: I was lisuning!
Ferdia: But why were you screaming in here all by yourself?
Gracie: Because I am frightened. Me too, I also drink ze cognac. * sobbing * Mon diou. I can't stay in here by myself.
Bobetta and Ferdie go to Gracie.
Bobetta: Come back to the study with us.
Gracie: With ze murderer?
Ferdie: There's safety in number, my dear. Trust me, I am well versed in all survival techniques.
Everyone leaves the room. After they are gone, D'gal takes the tape off the spools. The others return to the study to discuss the matter.
Ferdie: Is there no indication of how he died?
D'Gal: This is terrible. This is absolutely terrible!
Everyone gives him a look.
D'Gal: Okay, fine. I'll admit I'm enjoying this, but it's not exactly what I intended for tonight.
Ferdia: Not what YOU intended?
D'Gal: Indeed. It was I who arranged this little soirée.
Bob: Egad! So you're not the butler?
D'Gal: I'm not THE butler, but I am A butler. In fact, I was
* pausing as he forced himself to speak *
his butler. * pointing to Drake *
Squeaks: So if he told you to invite us all to his house, why did he arrive late?
D'Gal: I invited you. In fact, I wrote the letters. It was all my idea.
Ferdia: Wait a minute. I don't understand. Why did you invite us here to meet your
* looking down at Drake *
late employer? Were you assisting him to blackmail us?
D'Gal: Certainly not! I would never do anything to help him.
Ferdia: I think you had better explain.
D'Gal: Please sit down. Everyone.
Everyone sits but Ferdie. He searches for a spot, but no one gives it to him. He ends up leaning against a serving table.
D'Gal: When I said that I was Mr. Boddy's butler; this was both true and misleading. I was once his butler, but it was not his amusing death this evening that brought my employment with him to an end.
Bob: When did it come to an end?
D'Gal: When my wife decided to . . . leave this world. She too was being blackmailed by this odious duck who now lies dead before us. He hated my wife for the same reason that he hated all of you. He believed that you were all thoroughly . . . un-Civilized.
Ferdie's serving table gives way, landing him, and several pieces of crystal, on the floor.
Ferdie: * sheepishly * Sorry.
Bobetta: I protest! I am a pinnacle of sophistication.
D'Gal: Yes well, for some reason, he felt that it was inappropriate for a senator to have a corrupt wife. Or for a doctor to take falsify his background, for a wife to be-head her husband, and so forth. * shrugging * Can't imagine what the problem was.
Ferdie: But this is ridiculous! If he was such a shining example of culture, why didn't he just report us to the authorities?
D'Gal: He decided to put his information to good use and make a little money out of it. He was always kind of thick and never saw the hypocrisy.
Squeaks: And what was your role in all this?
D'Gal: I was . . . a victim, too. At least my wife was. She was a . . . * chest swells with pride * . . . terrorist.
Gasps and muttering from several guests, the most vocal of whom is Mrs. Peacock.
D'Gal: But Mr. Boddy threatened to give my wife's name to the House Un-Civilized Activities Committee unless she gave up her corrupt practices. She refused, and so he blackmailed her. We had no money, and the price of his silence was that we worked for him for nothing. * anger rising * We were slaves! Well, to make a long story short--
Squeaks: Too late.
D'Gal: --After my wife was gone, I resolved to put Mr. Boddy behind bars. It seemed to be the best way to do it, and to free all of you from the same burden of blackmail was to get everyone face to face, confront Mr. Boddy with his crimes, and then . . . turn him over to the police.
Bob: So, everything is explained.
Iiwi: You are so naive. Nothing's explained. We still don't know who killed him!
D'Gal: Does it really matter?
Everyone gave him that look again
D'Gal: Right. Then we've got to find out in the next thirty-nine minutes. Before the police arrive.
Bobetta: My God, we can't have them come here nowThink of the scandal!
Bob: I'm too cute to go to prison!
Ferdie: But . . . how can we possibly find out which of you did it?
Squeaks: What do you mean which of "you" did it?
Ferdie: Well, I didn't do it! I'm a coward, remember?
D'Gal: Well, one of us did. We all had the opportunity, we all had a motive.
Ferdia: You, most of all
Iiwi: Great. We'll all go to the chair.
Squeaks: Maybe it wasn't one of us.
Bob: Well, who else could it have been?
Squeaks: Who else is in the house?
D'Gal and Gracie: Only the (ze) cook.
Everyone: The cook!
The party runs from the study to the kitchen. They all get stuck in the door, except for Ferdie. He steps down into the kitchen and looks around.
Ferdie: Well. She's not here.
The door to the freezer starts to open. Ferdie turns around and Drake, now dressed as the cook, lifelessly tumbles out into Ferdie's arms. He now has the dagger sticking out of his back. Ferdie starts to scream at the top of his lungs and drops the body.
Bob: * horrified * But
wasn't he just
D'Gal: * amused tone * Oh, how dreadful!
They have all stopped paying attention to him by this point. Iiwi starts to reach for the knife.
Ferdia: Don't touch it. That's evidence.
Iiwi: Not for us. We have to find out who did this. We can't take fingerprints, not unless you have a dusting kit in that dress.
Ferdia just snorts in response.
Bob: * to D'gal * I think you'd better explain yourself, Wadsworth.
D'Gal: Me? Why me?
Bob: Duh. We've established you're the butler already.
Ferdie: * still in shock * Who would want to kill the cook?
Iiwi: Dinner wasn't that bad.
Bob: How can you make jokes at a time like this?
Iiwi: It's my defense mechanism.
Bob: Some defense. If I was the killer, I would kill you next.
Everyone stares at him.
Bob: I said "if." "If"! I wouldn't kill anyone. I'm a hero! There is only one admitted killer here, and it is certainly not me, it is him!
He points at D'gal.
D'Gal: * smiling * I've admitted nothing.
Ferdie: Well, you were also being blackmail. Just what kind of terrorist was your wife?
Ferdia: Bro, stop talking. That was a stupid question.
Bob: Well, if it wasn't you, then who was it? Who had the dagger, anyway? It was you, Mrs. Peacock, wasn't it?
Bobetta: How could you accuse me?!?
Bob: Gee, I dunno. Let's ask your husband.
Squeaks: Knock it off. But, you did have the knife.
Bobetta: Yes, but I put it down.
Bobetta: In the study.
Bobetta: I don't know! Before the Colonel fainted, after he fainted, I don't know! But any of you could have picked it up.
Bob: Hey! I did not faint! I just
in a very manly fashion.
D'Gal: Yes, well, I suggest we take the cook's body into the study.
D'Gal: I'm the butler. I like to keep the kitchen tidy.
D'gal, Squeaks, Ferdia and Iiwi are carrying the cook's body into the study, effectively blocking off the rest's view.
Squeaks: * dropping Drake's body and pointing * Look!
Squeaks: The body's gone!
Drake, the cook, is dropped the rest of the way to the floor.
Bobetta: What are you all staring at?
Iiwi: Nothing . . .
Bobetta: Well, who's there?
D'Gal: Nobody. No Boddy, that's what we mean. Mr. Boddy's body. It's gone.
Ferdia: Maybe he wasn't dead.
Squeaks: He was.
Ferdia: We should have made sure!
Iiwi: How? By cutting his head off, I suppose.
Ferdia: That wasn't called for.
Bobetta: Now, now. Let's not be crude.
Iiwi: Where is he?
Squeaks: We better look for him.
They look around.
Ferdie: Well . . . he couldn't have been dead. Unless
* turns pale with terror *
he's a zombie!
Ferdia tries to smack her brother.
Squeaks: * looking at the panicking bluebird * He was dead. At least I thought he was. But . . . what difference does it make now?
Iiwi: It makes quite a difference to him. Maybe there is life after death.
Ferdie: Maybe Mr. Boddy rose up to kill the cook!
D'Gal: * dryly * How?
Ferdie: Well, first he would the amulet of Rahk'amun
Bobetta: Well, if you'll excuse me, I have to, um . . . * to Gracie * Is there a little girls' room?
Gracie: Oui, oui, madame.
Bobetta: Disgusting. I just want to powder my nose, thank you.
Gracie is bewildered. Bobetta steps over Drake's corpse into the hall.
Iiwi is wandering around; then she stops to pick up something.
Iiwi: What's this, Wadsworth?
D'Gal: Those are the negatives to which Colonel Mustard earlier referred.
Bob: * going for them * Oh, my God!
Iiwi: Were you planning to blackmail him, Wadsworth?
D'Gal: Not really. I'd obtained them for the Colonel, and I was going to give them back as soon as Mr. Boddy was unmasked.
Iiwi: Mmmm . . . very pretty.
Squeaks: What sort of pictures are they?
Bob: They are my pictures, and I'd like them back, please.
Iiwi: No, I'm afraid there's something in them that concerns me too.
Squeaks snatches the pictures and holds them up to the light.
Squeaks: Let me see . . . Is he molesting a coffee grinder?
Ferdia: What? Lemme see! * looking* You have got to be kidding me. That's what Mustard is trying to keep secret?
Squeaks: It is a very nice grinder.
Bob: Nice! That is a hand crafted, gold filigree, 16th century, Bavardee coffee press!
They all stare at him. He looks away while blushing.
Bob: Um, never mind.
Out in the hall, Bobetta opens the door to the bathroom. She screams as Drake, once again dressed as Mr. Boddy, falls out and lands in her outstretched arms. He is almost certainly dead now; his head is bloody.
Upon hear her screams, everyone, led by Bob, rushes out to her aid. They stop dead when they see what is happening.
Squeaks: Mr. Boddy!
Ferdie: He's attacking her! Un-hand her, fowl creature of the night!
Bob: I'll save you, my darling!
They pull the corpse off Bobetta.
Ferdia: Well, he's really dead.
D'Gal: * chuckling * Mr. Boddy. Dead. Again.
Bobetta: * fanning herself * Oh, my goodness . . .
D'Gal: She's going to faint.
Squeaks: Somebody catch her!
Bob goes behind Bobetta and encircling her with his arms.
Bob: I'll catch you. Fall into my arms. * she slips right through * Oops. Sorry . . .
Iiwi: * looking at Ferdie * You've got blood on your hands . . .
Ferdie: * panicking * AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Wait, so do you!
Iiwi: My feathers are naturally red, ding-ding.
D'Gal: Oh, calm down. Although, it does look suspicious
Ferdie: I didn't do it!
Ferdia: * probing Drakes head gently with her finger * He's got new injuries.
Squeaks picks up Drake's arm and lets it fall again.
Squeaks: Well, he's certainly dead now. Why would anyone want to kill him twice?
Iiwi: It seems so unnecessary.
Ferdia: That's what I would call "overkill."
Squeaks: It's what we call "psychotic."
D'Gal: Now, why would you call it psychotic to want to kill a person twice? Especially when it comes to that duck.
Bob: Three times, if you count the cook's death.
Ferdie: You can't kill a zombie. All right, who here has been studying necromancy in their spare time?!
Iiwi: Knock it off with the whole undead thing.
Squeaks: We need to be thinking about a living, flesh and blood murderer.
Bobetta: * just starting to wake up * Murder! Oh! * faints again *
Ferdie: We need to find out who killed him, and where, and with what! Never eliminate any possibilities!
Iiwi: There's no need to shout!
Ferdie: * even louder * I'm not shouting!! * pausing * All right, I am. I'm shouting, I'm shouting, I'm shout--
At which point the candlestick, which had been nestled above the bathroom door, falls and hits him on the head. Ferdie hits the floor next to Bobetta.
D'Gal: Right. Shall we put the body back in the bathroom, then?
No one felt the urge to complain. Bob helps Bobetta to the study while other struggle with the dead bodies. Ferdia and Iiwi shove Drake come Mr. Body into the W.C., while D'gal and Squeaks finish moving the cook into the study. Gracie just watches while filing her nails.
Bob is supervising in the study.
Bob: Okay, put the cook on the sofa.
They plop Drake on the sofa. Ferdie enters, holding ice to his head he reluctantly retrieved from the kitchen.
D'Gal: Careful, don't get blood on the sofa.
Gracie: How do we do sis? Ze dagger will go furzer into 'er back.
Iiwi: She says, like she's even helping.
Ferdia: Tip her forward, over the arm.
They do so.
Bob: Now. Who had access to the candlestick?
Ferdia: * gesturing to Iiwi * It was given to you.
Iiwi: Yeah, but I dropped it on the table. Anyone could have picked it up. You . . . him . . .well, maybe not Ferdie.
Ferdie: There are advantages to being a coward.
D'gal starts going around the room, picking up the weapons.
D'Gal: We still have all these weapons. The gun, the rope, the wrench, the lead pipe. Let's put them all in this cupboard and lock it. There's obviously homicidal maniac somewhere in this house, and it would be dangerous to leave these lying about.
Ferdia: Somewhere? Yeah, right.
D'gal locks the weapons in the cupboard. Everyone states their approval.
Ferdie: What are you doing with the key?
D'Gal: Putting it in my pocket.
D'Gal: Well, to keep it safe, obviously.
Squeaks: Yeah, real safe.
Bobetta: That means that you can open it, whenever you want.
D'Gal: But it also means that you can't.
Bobetta: But what if you're the murderer?
D'Gal: * innocently * I'm not.
Ferdia: That's really convincing.
D'Gal: Well, it's got to be put somewhere. If I've got it, I know I'm safe.
Bobetta: We don't know that WE are!
Ferdie: I've an idea. We'll throw it away!
The party agrees. They all rush for the front door, which D'gal unlocks. But when he opens the door and prepares to throw the key out, they find Drake on the other side of the door, who ducks, thinking
D'gal is about to hit him. The butler quickly recovers and pockets the key.
D'Gal: Oh, sorry. * smirking evilly * Can we help?
Drake: Oh, no! Not again!
Squeaks: * rushing up * Huh? He's alive
Drake: That's it! I'm leaving!
D'gal kicks Drake to stop his protesting.
D'Gal: No worries, sir. You haven't disturbed the whole household. No doubt you car broke down and you wish to use the phone. Just one moment, please.
Drake was still hoping around on one foot as D'gal turned to the others to discuss the matter. As they huddle, there are sounds of protests and a few people get bopped on the head; but eventually some sort of agreement is reached. The party turns back around to face Drake, the lost motorist.
D'Gal: Very well, sir. Would you care to come in?
Drake: What? No!
D'Gal: Don't be absurd. It is a horrible night to be standing in the rain. Please come in and use the phone.
D'gal roughly pulls on Drake's arm and shuts the door behind him.
Drake: Well, where is it?
Ferdie: What, the body?
Iiwi elbows him.
Drake: The phone. What body?
Ferdie: Well, there's no body. There's nobody. There's nobody in the study.
D'Gal: But there is phone in the lounge.
Drake: Uh, thanks.
D'gal leads Drake to the lounge and indicates the phone. Drake eyes him and enters the room.
D'Gal: When you've finished your call, perhaps you'd be good enough to wait here.
It is not a question.
Drake: What are you up to, Vycerian.?
Completely ignoring the question, D'gal exits the lounge. He closes the door to the room and locks it.
Squeaks comes up behind him and puts a hand on D'gal's shoulder.
Squeaks: Where's the key?
D'Gal: In my pocket.
Ferdia: Not that key; the key to the cupboard with the weapons!
D'Gal: Do you still wish me to throw it away?
D'gal re-opens the front door and checks to make sure no one is standing there, then takes the key from his pocket and throws it. It lands on the cement and bounces into the foliage. D'gal then closes the door and re-locks it.
Bob: Well. What now?
Bobetta: * holding her hand out * Wadsworth, let me out.
Ferdia: Why not?
D'Gal: We've got to know who did it. We're all in this together, now.
He gives them his trademark grin.
Iiwi: If you leave, I'll say that you killed them both.
There is a general agreement among the guests. Except Bob, who then goes to comfort his beloved, as Bobetta starts to weep again. Ferdia marches up to D'gal.
Ferdia: Wadsworth, I'll make you sorry you ever started this. One day, when we're alone together . . .
D'Gal: Mrs. White, no man in his right mind would be alone together with you. Not without a swat team as backup.
Bob: Well, I could use a coffee!
Everyone agrees with this notion. D'gal goes to the study and looks in.
D'Gal: Just checking.
Squeaks: Everything all right?
D'Gal: Quite. One dead duck. Everything's fine.
Gracie is passing around cups of coffee to the others. Bob takes a deep gulp and sighs with relief. With great dramatics, he then decides someone needs to take charge.
Bob: All right, look. Pay attention, everybody. * to D'gal * Wadsworth, am I right in thinking there is nobody else in this house?
D'Gal: Mmm, no.
Bob: Then there IS someone else in this house?
D'Gal: * smiling * No, sorry. I said "no," meaning "yes."
Bob: "'No,' meaning 'yes'"? Look, I want a straight answer. Is there someone else or isn't there, yes or no?
Bob: "No," there IS, or "no," there ISN'T?
Ferdia breaks her glass against the fireplace.
Ferdia: * exasperated * Don't you think we should get that duck out of the house before he finds out what's been going on here? Or winds up dead?
D'Gal: Why spoil the fun?
She tosses the remains of her glass into the air. It shatters on the hearth.
D'Gal: * pityingly * Besides, how can we throw him outside in this weather?
Iiwi: If we let him stay in the house, he may get suspicious.
Squeaks: If we throw him out, he may get even more suspicious.
Ferdie: If I were him, I'd be suspicious already.
Bobetta: * at wit's end * Oh, who cares?! That guy doesn't matter! Let him stay, locked up for another half an hour! The police will be here by then, and there are two dead bodies in the house!!
Bob: Well, there is still some confusion as to whether or not there's anybody else in this house.
D'Gal: I told you, there isn't.
Bob: There isn't any confusion, or there isn't anybody else.
D'gal * shrugs * Either. Or both.
Bob: Just give me a clear answer!
D'Gal: Certainly! * evil grin * What was the question?
Bob: Is there anybody else in the house?!
Squeaks: That's what he says, but does he know? I suggest we handle this in proper military fashion. We split up, and search the house.
Bobetta: Split up!
Bob: Military? I thought you were a psychiatrist?
Squeaks: Yes, well
Ferdia: Who cares? We have very little time left, so we'll split up into pairs.
Iiwi: Wait a minute. Suppose that one of us IS the murderer? If we split up into pairs, whichever one is left with the killer might get killed.
Ferdia: Then we would have discovered who the murderer is!
Ferdie: You really are morbid.
Bobetta: But the other half of the pair would be dead!
D'Gal: I agree with Mrs. White. This is war, Mrs. Peacock! Casualties are inevitable. You cannot make an omelet without breaking eggs--every cook will tell you that.
Bobetta: But look what happened to the cook!
Bob: Um, are we still pretending?
Ferdie: Sis, are you willing to take the chance that someone else might die?
Ferdia: Do you see any other option?
Ferdie: I suggest fleeing in terror.
Gracie: Bon decor. But it is dark upstairs, and I am frightened of ze dark. Will anyone go wiz me?
Ferdie: I will. You'll be safe with me
Iiwi: * mockingly * You'll be safe with me. Oh, please.
Bob: She's all yours, Green.
D'Gal: I suggest we all draw lots, for partners.
He takes long matchsticks from near the fireplace. They all follow him to the kitchen where he uses a knife to cut the long matchsticks into different lengths. He prepares them in his hand so the matches' lengths can't be seen.
D'Gal: Ready? The two shortest together, the next two shortest together. Agreed? And I suggest the two shortest search the cellar, and so on, up.
The guests approach D'gal.
Bob picks a matchstick. It's relatively short. Bobetta hers. Mustard and Peacock compare. His is longer.
Iiwi picks her matchstick with a jerk. Ferdie reaches over Iiwi's shoulder and gets his matchstick. It is one of the uncut sticks. Bob and Ferdie compare. It's not even close.
Gracie selects her stick. It's another long one.
Bob and Iiwi compare. They match, putting them together on the ground floor. Iiwi looks disgusted. Ferdia selects hers. Squeaks picks his matchstick.
D'gal takes what is left. Ferdia steps up to D'gal and pairs his matchstick. They're going to the second floor.
Squeaks walks by Gracie and a drooling Ferdie, who are going to the attic together.
Squeaks matches cellar matchsticks with Bobetta.
Squeaks: Does anyone want to trade?
The group splits up. D'gal and Ferdia start up the stairs, followed by Ferdie and Gracie. The latter will continue up to the attic.
Meanwhile, Squeaks and Bobetta are uncertain where to go. D'gal pauses on a step and indicated the door under the staircase.
D'Gal: The cellar.
Bob and Iiwi stop in the middle of the Hall.
Bob: Well, we know what's in the study and the bathroom, we've just come from the kitchen, and the stranger's locked up in the lounge--
Iiwi: Let's go look in the billiard room again.
They go to the billiard room.
As they depart, Squeaks is opening the door to the cellar. Bobetta reaches in and turns on the light. They enter cautiously.
Bobetta: Ooh. Do I have to go down there? It looks so
dirty. I might loose an earring.
Squeaks does not hesitate to give her a little shove.
The storm is still around Hill House, visible from a second-story window where D'gal and Ferdia are walking down the hallway as Ferdie and Gracie look for the stairs to the attic.
Ferdie cringes at the lighting flashes and thunderclaps. He grips Gracie's arm. She looks at him quizzically.
Ferdie: Uh, I thought maybe you were scared.
They reach for the door, and Ferdie eases it open. That part is easy, but it will be a lot harder to go up the narrow stairs with his eyes closed.
Gracie flips on the light, startling Ferdie. He jumps a foot and backs up against the wall.
Ferdie: Heh. Do you want to go up in front of me?
Gracie: Absolutely no.
Ferdie: I'm sure there's no one up there.
Gracie: Zen you go een fron.
Ferdie: I would rather go sleep with the cook in the study.
Neither moves. All that can be heard is the rain on the roof
Down below, Bobetta and Squeaks can barely see one another in the dark as the edge down to the cellar.
Bobetta: You go first.
Squeaks: Gee, you're too kind. What ever happened to ladies first?
Bobetta: No, no, no, I insist.
Squeaks: Well, what are you afraid of, a fate worse than death?
Bobetta: No, just death. Isn't that enough?
Up on the second floor, D'gal and Ferdia are at the doors of two adjacent rooms. They are looking at each other suspiciously.
D'Gal: Are you going in there?
Ferdia: Yes, are you?
They look in.
Ferdia: Um, I don't see any light switches in there.
D'Gal: Well, neither do I, but there must be switches somewhere.
Ferdia: Shall I come in with you?
D'Gal: No, thank you.
They start into their rooms and then jump out simultaneously, looking for the other.
Back on the main floor, Bob and Iiwi are in back of the corner bar in the billiard room. They're stooping to look in. They stand and Bob indicates the bar's narrow egress.
Bob: Ladies first.
Iiwi: Go right a head.
Bob: Thanks. * pauses * Hey!
They both head for the exit, and they have to squeeze through-- it's a very tight fit.
Bob walks past Iiwi, who is sure to keep him in sight. He grabs a pool cue from the wall and walks over to the pool table and motions with the stick to look under it.
They do. There's nothing there.
Ferdie and Gracie are still where they were at the bottom of the attic steps. It is still raining outside.
Gracie: Go'n. I be right behind you.
Ferdie: That's why I'm nervous.
Gracie: Zen we go togezer.
The two squeeze up the narrow steps. Ferdie suddenly finds new courage.
Bobetta and Squeaks are still inching down the stairs. She turns on the lights as he slips on a step.
This frightens Bobetta, who runs down the remaining few steps.
Bobetta: Stay there! You brute!
Bob and Iiwi throw open the closet door in the main hall. Nothing there.
Above, D'gal is searching the master bedroom. He is wandering in the dark.
D'Gal: If there's anybody in here, prepare to die!!
Ferdia is searching a different bedroom.
Ferdia: Wherever you are, I'm coming
Back downstairs, Bob and Iiwi are searching the ball room
Bob: What room's this?
Iiwi: Search me.
Bob: Why would I do that?
Iiwi: Don't even start, or so help me
During the search of the cellar, Bobetta discovers a rat. She begins to scream at the top of her lungs. Squeaks clutches his ears in pain, and wishes he could follow the rat in its escape.
Up in the ballroom, Bob finds the light switch and flips it on. Iiwi scans the room.
Iiwi: Nobody here.
Bob: What if he's behind one of those curtains . . . ?
He points to the curtains at the far end of the ball room.
Iiwi: You look. I'll go search the kitchen.
She leaves him alone. Bob sighs.
He starts to walk--slowly--toward the curtains. The curtains almost seem to be moving, but it just could be he imagination. Then--there is definite movement off to the right.
Bob stops in his tracks, trying to scream but unable to.
He continues cautiously.
Bob reaches the curtains, pauses . . . and throws them back, revealing . . . A broken window with wind blowing in.
Outside it is still raining. The motorist's car can be seen on the side of the road. A cop car pulls up to investigate.
Back inside the manor, there is someone in the shadows of the study, looking through the photographs and papers, as well as the tapes of the conversation Yvette was making earlier. A gloved hand picks them up. The hand throws the photos and papers into the fire. Then the tape goes in. It all burns.
The hand now uses a key to unlock the cupboard with the weapons. But wasn't that key thrown away? The weapons are revealed.
There is a cop, in an oversized black slicker, standing outside of the motorist's car, shining a light through the window. He is soaking wet. He stands back up and looks at Hill House.
In the lounge, Drake is making his phone call.
Drake: I'm a little nervous . . .
He glances nervously at the fire billowing across the room.
Drake: I'm at this big house, and first I was the cook, then I was accused of blackmail. No one wants to believe me that
He is listening to the other end of the line, oblivious to a mysterious person entering the room. The wrench is in their hand.
Drake: The funny thing is there's a whole group of primitives here having some sort of party.
And they are all playing along with the savage brute
The wrench descends.
The phone falls to the floor, then Drake follows suit. He is dead. Again.
A gloved hand places the phone back on its cradle.
CONTINUED IN PART THE THIRD