Day Two.

Dawn broke over Malowen Hall. But it brought neither joy nor hope to the inhabitants of the estate. A foul smell of burning permeated one of the corridors on one of the floors. “Fire, fire! We’re on fire!” – the half-dressed servants scurried through the house. The most astute rushed to the source of the smell – smoke was seeping from behind a slightly ajar door of Ple-Sen’s room. Throwing the door open, those who entered saw a terrible sight: Ple-Sen lay across the room, one arm outstretched. Judging by the position of his fingers, he had been clutching something, but now there was nothing there. The unfortunate man’s head rested in a pool of blood, flowing from a wound on his neck. Someone had sent him to the next world with a single, precise blow, giving him no chance to defend himself. The source of the burning smell was a pile of papers thrown into the fireplace. Ple-Sen, apparently, hadn’t been using it the night before, and the chimney was closed, so the smoke filled the room. Unfortunately, the fire had managed to destroy the papers almost completely, so it was impossible to make out a single word. Clouds of smoke, which, as the killer must have guessed, would inevitably attract people here very soon, forced him to flee the scene in a hurry – a cloak with a hood made of coarse fabric lay on the back of one of the chairs, which he had apparently used when visiting Ple-Sen.

The police spread out through the house, trying to find the killer by following the fresh, literal, trail. One of them, passing by Neyra Drake’s room, heard muffled banging on the door from inside. Someone was knocking and desperately turning the handle, trying to get out. The policeman turned the key, which was in the door on the outside, and let out a panting and angry Neyra. “What kind of stupid joke is this! Who would do such a thing?” she exclaimed. However, she didn’t have a chance to vent her anger: a burst of indignant and frightened voices from one of the rooms forced both her and the policeman to rush there.

Several people gathered at the door of WhiteLizard’s room. The owner of the room himself, hunched over, lay on a blood-soaked carpet. However, in this disfigured lump of flesh, it was difficult to recognize a person. There was blood not only on the floor but also on the walls and furniture: obviously, the killer had pursued his victim throughout the room, inflicting random, frenzied blows with a knife, while WhiteLizard scurried around in an attempt to avoid them. The killer had squeezed everything out of him, to the last drop of blood. Not far from the body lay a bunch of keys, presumably dropped in the heat of the struggle.

The somber inspector gathered all the inhabitants of the house for questioning. However, he was told little of interest. Ta Kotoraya... grumbled that someone had trampled in the corridor between her room and Nebo’s room. Nebo himself glared sullenly towards the dining room and kept asking when breakfast would be served. Finally, Gil4 couldn’t stand it anymore and sarcastically asked him, “Why are you so hungry?” “And you, I suppose, are like a camel, storing food in your hump!” he snapped back. The tension was broken by the unexpected, belated appearance of Registr. He looked disheveled and puffy from sleep, and his reddened eyes were watering. He had slept so soundly that he couldn’t shed any light on the events of the night; he thought he had heard someone knocking on his door in his sleep.

One of the policemen approached the inspector: “Sir, look what we found in the trash can!” With these words, he handed over several crumpled notes. The inspector unfolded them and began to read aloud:

-“Visited Aru, status bad. Your Arthur Hastings.”

- “Nebo, don’t blab!
Arandor.
Or blab, but not with us!
Hostor.
Be a cheerful kitty.
Flandre.
And it’s better to think things through.
Gil.”

- “Last night I was at Arandor’s, here is his letter: ‘Heal your soul with sensations, and let your soul heal the sensations, most esteemed.’ Today I’m going to Hostor’s. Your postman.”

-“Visited TaKo. The food is disgusting! Hungry and cold.”

-“Announcement: An investigation has shown that Arandor is a bad person. Zedzi was a doctor, and additional evidence of his murder is ‘Schwarzwald.’ Today I’m checking Registr. Signed: Detective.”

“What nonsense!” the inspector exclaimed in annoyance and sent the notes back to the trash can…

Living players:

1. Registr
2. Hermit
3. Gur
4. Flandre
5. Ta Kotoraya...
7. Leang
9. Nebo
10. Pandora
13. Xostor
14. Arandor
15. Gil4
16. Neyra Drake

Killed:

6. Zedzi
11. Vegtam
12. WhiteLizard
8. Ple-Sen

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