Chapter 5:
The End
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It clicked. It all made sense.
Bosney's mind raced as all the pieces fell in to place. All the clues, all the testimonies, everything. It all made sense now!
“You!” He rounded on Dervy, finger pointing like the end of a sword. “It was you!”
“Me?!” squeaked Dervy, the anxiety apparent on his face. “How the hell was it me?!”
“You arrived at the door late tonight, but you were here on time! There's a door in the kitchen that goes outside, you snuck in to poison a dinner here tonight! You filched the bottle of wine while the butler wasn't looking and just couldn't resist a drink! When he went to go replace it, you poisoned a meal that you thought was going to be Scrimshaw's! You knew that you couldn't get away with killing Treylbach, but if the support that he needed was killed, he wouldn't be able to move against you! And what better way to do it than to pin it on the butler? Come on, it's
always the butler! But that's where it went wrong, isn't it? The meal you thought was for Scrimshaw was served to Treylbach instead, and the night went out of control there. That's when Giselle started having second thoughts about helping you, and you had to give her the shove, literally, to keep her from talking. You never went to the bathroom! You don't even take Laudanum! I looked it up, you'd be dead if you took the amounts you said you do! And as for Isabelle, I can only assume I was right about her working for you. But then you had to tie up that loose end too, didn't you? Or was I your target in the library eh? Maybe that's why you had to hire her, since you're so terrible at doing your own dirty work. Right! You're going to get it now Dervy!”
Dervy screamed, turning and fleeing out of the library and in to the hall. Igglethorpe chased after him, waving his cudgel as he gave chase.
“Stop right there criminal scum!”
Dervy ran for his life, heading back towards the front entrance. He was exposed now, but if he could make it back home, grab as much cash as he could, he could survive on the run. He could make do. It didn't have to come to this.
The doors were close now. He pushed himself on, hands stretched out, ready to catch the latch on the doors and push, he-
He crumpled as the momentum that he thought would push the door open caused him to crash in to the heavy slabs of wood. In his dazed state, Agatha Scrimshaw's words came back to him about Alabaster preferring to lock the doors. Now Bosney was closing in on him, and there was nothing he could do.
“Right you. I meant what I said. You killed three people tonight. Now I'm going to...”
Bosney trailed off, stopping halfway through the act of raising his cudgel. Dervy was laying huddled on the floor now, sobbing in a ball of self pity as he waited for the end to come. With a sigh, Igglethorpe let himself slump.
“Put you under arrest. Where you belong. Come on, get up.”
Igglethorpe reeled as Dervy rose, uppercutting him in the jaw before he rocketed back the way he had came. He was about to clear the doorway from the entrance to the dining hall before the visage of Alabaster manifested itself in the doorway. With a movement hardly believable for his age, the butler struck Dervy across the face with a knockout punch, putting him out cold.
“I'm sorry, but there is to be no running in the manor. Now, if you will excuse me.”
Bosney stared at Alabaster, watching as the man turned and strode back towards the library. Quiet descended upon the room. Now, it was just Igglethorpe and Dervy.
Just the two of them alone.
With no witnesses.