Boddy
Legacy Name: Boddy

Prologue

The first thing you should know about me is that I was not a good man. I made it to the top by lying, stealing and cheating every chance I got. I mocked the ants trying to climb my hill and take my place before flicking them back to the muddy ground.

I was better than a king. Kings paid me ransom.

The second thing you may find interesting is the fact that I'm standing over my own corpse.

All I remember about my death is one long night of intense pain before my weak human senses surrendered to oblivion. The creature I became can hear the clicking of a spider's legs and count the stallions housed in a stable twelve miles down the road. Aside from the glowing orbs that serve me for eyes, I am no more substantial than the puff of air that tickles the back of your neck as you read this.

I couldn't leave this world with only broken memories. The sharp report of a pistol. The tang of bitter wine. The floral musk of perfume as a soft voice turned harsh with ill-suppressed rage.

I can hear the click of hard-soled shoes on the cobblestones outside. With barely a thought, I am floating above the mansion that was my home.

The young detective is a hesitant boy with a pistol that has never been fired. He stumbles on a loose stone, nearly ending up in the fountain.

I know the local officers of the law had no great love for me, but this is insulting. Unfortunately, a spectral being must make use of the tools at hand.

Merging our minds is easy. We stand together, brushing the leaves from our trousers and smoothing our collar. Fixing our best stern look in place, we raise a hand to knock.

Credits:
Profile by: Ringo

Story by Pureflower

Story characters and setting inspired by the board game Clue.

Lounge

Mrs. White stared at the intruder through narrowed eyes, making it clear by the position of her body that he was not welcome to enter. "We've had enough of your kind trampling the grounds and asking all manner of questions." She scowled when his strong hand stopped the door. He certainly didn't look capable of holding his own with those stick arms.

"Those were the coroner's people, ma'am. My name is Detective Quincy Clue, stationed in Third District. I'm here to interview Mr. Boddy's guests. Surely they told you as much when they came for the body?"

She stepped aside with a shrug. "Talk the lot to death, if you like. I'll not tolerate another call for passionfruit juice or grass-fed beef. Any master will be an improvement on that corpse worm they're holding in the meat locker. They're gathered in the Lounge."

"You will, of course, be joining us."

Mrs. White gave him a look that would make gargoyles quake with fear. "I am not your servant, Detective."

"You are a suspect until I am able to establish your innocence, Mrs. White. There are two gentlemen at the end of the drive who will be happy to provide an escort if you would rather have this discussion down at the station."

She stalked into the lounge without another word.

Clue surveyed the five other occupants of the Lounge, ignoring Mrs. White's poisonous looks. Col. Mustard stood by the fireplace, chuckling as he recounted for Mr. Green some old campaign. Miss Scarlet admired her reflection in a silver hand mirror, correcting her bright red lipstick with a fingertip. Prof. Plum's nose was actually touching the page he was reading, so absorbed was he in his book. Mrs. Teal stared moodily into the fire, her lacy veil trembling at the slightest movement.

"You are all here at my request to help determine the cause of your benefactor's death. I do not wish to put any of you to shame, so this is what I will do. You are all free to wander away and enjoy your usual evening pursuits. I'll be visiting each of you individually sometime in the night. I implore the guilty party not to make matters worse with a lie. You are dismissed."

Not one of the six hesitated to leave. Boddy had expected no different. He floated free of his host, allowing Clue to slump back on the sofa. Boddy took care to put the boy's pipe and pouch in easy reach before ghosting into the cavernous hall for his first visit of the night.

Ballroom

Scarlet lounged on a crushed red velvet sofa, cigarette holder in one hand and swan feather pen in the other. The blotches of ink on her half-written letter bore witness to her impatience.

"Dear sister, how I envy you. You've no idea how fortunate you are to be a plain child." She took a long drag, releasing the smoke in a narrow stream. "I can't even enjoy a relaxing moment without worrying that my nasty habit will stain these lily hands."

Her eyes wandered the room, coming to rest on the place where she'd discovered Boddy. "I shouldn't have been in here, you would say. A silly, practical girl like you would scoff at the notion that a lady would spend her nights anywhere but in bed. Night is the only time I can be myself, dear sister. Machines are fascinating, much more so than people."

"I know what you would reply, my dove. That is no hobby for a woman. You weren't there that night of Boddy's party. Your ears didn't ache as Mustard banged away on the keys. The only reason I stumbled over my would-be lover was the wrench. I left it under the piano after putting it to admirable use. That blasted detective may have noticed blood on the edge when he took it for evidence but he will never connect it to me. A delicate blossom such as myself couldn't lift such a heavy club."

She chuckled and crumpled the letter into a ball, crossing the room to look out the tall arched windows as Boddy departed.

Billiard Room

The white ball flew across the green to smack Number Nine into the right rear pocket.

"Choice shot, old man. You really do have a knack for this game."

Mustard acknowledged Green's compliment with a nod as he positioned himself to make his next move. "It really is a terrible business."

Green grunted. "I would think a man in your line of work would grow accustomed to death."

"That's just the point, Mr. Green. I've seen enough of death to last me a lifetime." Mustard closed his eyes and gave his head a shake.

"I'm not so unaccustomed to death, you know. The world knows me as a man who struck oil. Very few remember the boy who used to wrestle rats for a stale crust of bread. The secret to killing a rat is to take up a good length of steel and strike in just the right place."

Mustard shuddered. "Please, sir. You'll ruin my appetite."

"My good Colonel, I do believe that's quite impossible."

They shared a laugh as Mustard took his shot. The ball came to rest tantalizingly close to the cup but did not go in.

"Perhaps you're right. There are so many less barbaric ways to kill. I've found poisoned honey in my factories to be a much better lure for rats than my clumsy arm."

Mustard picked up his glass, swirling his brandy and taking a drink. "You don't think Boddy could have been poisoned, do you?"

"Why go to the bother to stab and shoot the man, if that were the case?"

Mustard sighed and patted his jacket pocket. "I feel quite naked without my piece. They say they have evidence that it was my gun that went off but I'll be hanged if they can place my finger on the trigger."

"A poor choice of words, my friend." Green shot with care, knocking the last four balls in for the win. "My dear Colonel, it would appear you've once again been disarmed."

Kitchen

White's knife tore through the tender skin of a red onion, reducing reeking rinds to square bits that would cook up nicely in a stew. The fire in her eyes left no room for tears.

"Make them feel welcome, White. Never mind that I've treated my hounds better these thirty long years you've been in my service. Ha! Those beasts had proper beds while my joints were screaming but what was that to him?

She had to slow her pace for the winter carrots which proved more resistant. "Mrs. Teal will only eat what's on the menu in Paris. Miss Scarlet must watch her figure. We wouldn't want Master's little lovebird getting fat, now would we?"

The first round of veggies went into the pot and she was on to the chunk of mutton.

"The jolly Colonel will eat anything that isn't moving and he eats enough for three to boot. Mr. Green simply cannot tolerate too much salt. The Professor is the worst of the lot. Forgets to even come to dinner half the time and makes me trudge the length of this forsaken house, then dares to ask why his soup is cold! Bah! A turnip for the lot of them!" She reduced a turnip to mush for emphasis.

She froze at the soft displacement of air as Boddy shifted position, brandishing the knife. ""Who is it? The Colonel? Didn't have your fill after what you saw that night, eh? Wouldn't you make a fine pudding to feed them all with, you great tub of lard." She stabbed the knife into the cutting board, turning her attention to the spice rack. "Now let's see if we can find a flavor to make them all gag."

Library

Plum's assortment of brass candlesticks turned night to day as he pondered the volume in his hand.

"Surely I can locate a more intellectual selection than this drivel. There was that novel by Dr. Chrysal on the migration patterns of the Danaus plexxipus, or I could revisit the works of Aeschylus. At least his tragedies have some substance."

He almost managed to convince himself to follow his own advice. Boddy knew the book without viewing the title as it was one of the few he'd owned that he'd ever bothered to read.

It was a book of the greatest crimes of the nineteenth century, one which left no details of the grisly and bizarre actions of monsters to the imagination of the reader. Plum clucked his tongue.

"This really isn't fit to print, you know."

The comment was aimed at no one in particular and did not dissuade him from turning the page. A cold draft on the back of his neck made him shudder and start. There were no shadows to hide fearful things in his little square of light and he was much too old to take fright at ghost stories. Chuckling weakly, he bent his head and returned to his reading.

Conservatory

Teal had the miniature of Boddy painted without his knowledge. She'd memorized every contour of his face and even tried to write a few verses in his honor. They were all awful but that didn't stop her from trying.

It didn't matter how many creams and lotions she lathered on her face. She could make herself look younger but she couldn't subtract years from her age. She'd failed to capture Boddy's affection at a young age and now he looked on her with disgust.

Had looked on her. He wasn't looking at anything now. Tears fell from her eyes as she closed her fingertips around a dead leaf.

The Conservatory had become her sanctuary since Scarlet made her claim on the Ballroom. Teal had given such grand parties there in the days when all the local ladies sighed over the finesse of her style.

She cradled the dead leaf in her hands.

"I am so very sorry, dear one. You no longer have any beauty to offer and so your withered shape must be swept from view. You cannot hate the broom, though. Enjoy every caress until it sweeps you out the door, into the cold."

She released the leaf, watching its progress as it fluttered to the floor. When it came to rest, she buried her face in her hands and began to sob.

Epilogue

The six are gathered in the lounge as dawn breaks, taking the exact positions they claimed the night before. My host is no worse for wear, having enjoyed that pipe and enough sleeping powder to down an elephant.

Let the fun begin.

"You all think you have me fooled. You each looked in on me when you thought I was deep in sleep. It was what each of you said when you thought nobody was listening that has helped me piece together the events of Boddy's death."

"You all accepted Boddy's dinner invitation readily enough, though one of you was convinced he would never leave the table. Wipe that smug look from your face, Mr. Green. It does not befit a gentleman."

Mr. Green huffs and sputters for a moment. "I beg your pardon!"

"You are quite right, sir. You are hardly worthy of the title of "gentleman". A true gentleman has the common decency to purchase a poison that acts quickly. A few lead shavings were enough to make Mr. Boddy quite ill but you did not account for their bitter taste. You were able to destroy the glass he drank from but the shaved pipe in the umbrella stand has told quite a story of its own."

Mr. Green sneers. "A few flakes of metal will hardly convict me with all the wounds on Boddy."

"It is true your efforts were unsuccessful though you forced Mr. Boddy to bed early with a fierce headache. Sleep may have done him good if not for the report of the revolver in Mrs. Teal's hand. She was well aware the Colonel removes his jacket when he retires to the study to smoke his pipe. Perhaps she did still hold some love for Boddy or perhaps she's a terrible shot. She only managed to wing his temple."

Mrs. Teal shakes her head, breathing in gasps. "I saw him rise from the bed. Dead man don't walk. I could not have killed him!"

"You are quite right, ma'am. The shot was not fatal but it brought Boddy to his feet. He stumbled downstairs and made for the kitchen, desiring a cool cloth for his head. He must have been quite a sight, lurching around without even a candle to identify him. It's no wonder Mrs. White stabbed him with one of her kitchen knives when he lumbered into her domain."

White refuses to be drawn into my game, staring at me in stony silence.

"Realizing her error, she called in the Colonel from the dining room where he'd been enjoying a late night pudding. She did not hesitate to threaten him, for she is well acquainted with stories told by his half-brother who would delight in smearing Mustard's name if not for the price he is paid to keep silent. Mrs. White threatened to let the world know about certain irrefutable acts of cowardice that would ruin Mustard's reputation if he would not agree to relocate Boddy to the Ballroom."

Mustard shudders and promptly turns his attention to his booted feet.

"Our brilliant Professor returned to the Ballroom to seek a book he had left there earlier in the evening. He stumbled over the figure lying just inside the door. His failure to complete medical school was the greatest of his life and he could not cope with the fact that Boddy's injuries were beyond his knowledge so he convinced himself the man was simply beyond help and abandoned him."

Plum closes his eyes and begins to tremble.

"Finally, we have Miss Scarlet. She was the one who found Boddy in his final moments. He could no doubt smell her sweet perfume as she knelt beside him, clutching the wrench she had left accidentally in her haste to avoid discovery by Boddy's fellow guests of her secret hobby. She asked so sweetly for the combination to the vault and when he said the money was gone, she struck the final blow."

Scarlet stares at her pale hands as if she can still see my blood.

"Now you are all aware of how Boddy died and so is the station in District Three. My report went out while you all slept, confident in the knowledge that a bumbling detective such as myself would leave with more questions than answers. Officers have the house surrounded and are approaching as I speak to take you all into custody."

I stay with Clue until the house is entirely emptied, using his hand to write the combination to the vault. Let the young detective use my money to take up hero work or to take up drinking. I care not.

My ghost is free from the burdensome task that keeps me tied to this world. For one brief moment, I float in the endless sky, surrounded by the stars of the cosmos.

Another place beckons; a place that will blot out the light of the stars for centuries, if not for eternity.

Did I mention that in life, I was not a good man?