No one had said a word as they entered the dining room. Each guest sat at his place at the table, glumly staring a hole into his empty plate. As each dish was offered, hand after hand waved off the server.
“Well,” Flix observed, “no one has much of an appetite. That is understandable,” he continued, his eyes wandering towards Avery’s empty chair.
“I’m taking the first train out in the morning,” someone at the far end of the table said.
“As am I,” said Mrs. Hood. “My nerves are shot. If I thought they were bad before I entered this place, well, harrumph. Just look” she said, sticking her heavily bejeweled porcelain hand out for all to see. “Shakes like a drunk in a monastery!”
Multiple diamonds on her fingers and wrists sparkled in the light from the chandelier above the dining room table like a mini-fireworks display of dazzling glitter and glitz.
“I’ve called my attorney,” she continued. “He has made arrangements for me to transfer to another, more suitable location. This house of horrors is too much! Too much!”
“But what about the police? Aren’t we bound to stay here until the murderer is caught?” Flix asked.
“I am bound by nothing,” said Mrs. Hood, and rose from the table, promptly leaving the room.
“She’s right,” Wolcott said, softly. “If we stay here, they are liable to carry us all out in pine boxes.”
“Pine, my withered legs! Make mine the finest . . . I say, old man,” George said, turning to Flix, “what materials are used to make the finest caskets, nowadays?”
“I am sure I do not know,” Flix said.
“It’s a cinch this party’s nothing but a flat tire,” George said. “I could use a little hair of the dog. Yes. Perhaps, more than a little.”
“Dr. Quintland has cleaned out the liquor cabinets in all of the public meeting rooms, George. He said he was afraid the stress of the situation will provoke too much imbibing by strained and weakened wills,” someone at the end of the table noted.
“Quintland’s a quack. What about it, sport” George asked Flix, “care to roll down to my room for a snort? If they refuse to allow me my libation downstairs, well, how ‘bout a little bust head in our own dorm room? Are you up for a snort?”
“I think you’ve hit on all sixes, my friend,” Flix said. “After everything that’s gone on, I could use a drink.”
“Great. Let’s go. We can toast Avery.”
“A splendid idea,” Flix said.
“Oh, why not strip naked, howl at the moon, and pour a bottle of brandy in the woods on a charred red oak stump to toast her, George?” said Mr. Birmingham-Hill.
“Ahh, the Sphinx, he speaks,” said George. “Not a bad idea, Hilly, but too many spooks out there. And it’s too damn dark to find the perfectly charred stump, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely repulsive! All of you!” screamed Wolcott.
Dabney was pale with fear.
“Sorry. Sorry,” Wolcott said, clutching a wad of tablecloth like an anchor in a storm.
“Perhaps, it would be better if we left now, George,” Flix said.
“Right-oh. Let’s get rollin’. You push. I’ll steer! I shall be the captain of my ship! O, Captain! Ha! Ha! Ha!”
Flix and George left the others looking painfully uncomfortable.