What Ho!
You see Burton-on-Trent head into the study. A few stealthy minutes later, you spring in, to confront him in the act of polishing his rifle while nibbling on a croissant.
Assessing his assorted weaponry, you go for the soft line.
"Oh, hello, fancy seeing you here."
Sir Bob grunts at you "Eh? Why do you say that? You watched me go into this room, then hung about like an anemic sloth for five minutes before entering."
He has you there. He swallows another hunk of croissant and stares at you. "So, what do you want?"
"Um, that is, would you be so awfully good as to relate exactly where you were on the night of the alleged begonia theft?" Ah, that's the tone you're looking for.
"What do you mean by 'alleged'? The b------ things are gone. They didn't just amble off by themselves."
Another good point. "Quite. Well, that's just a manner of speaking, what ho. So, now that we've dispensed with the pleasantries, again, I ask what were you doing that fateful night?"
"If you must know, I was watching you sneak in and out of the greenhouse."
This interview is really not going as well as you had hoped.
"Ah, quite. Well done! Anyway, I suppose that's all I need to know right now."
Sir Robert leans towards you, and whispers through clenched teeth "Except, perhaps, what exactly I am going to do to this begonia burglar when we find the evidence."
You bolt out of your chair, knocking over a sidetable. It hits a ceramic vase from some dynasty or another which teeters frantically before surrendering to the inevitable and shattering itself upon the ground.
Noticing that Sir Bob is on the floor, having made a bold, but ineffectual dive for the suicidal vase, you reflect that a prudent fellow might just see this as a good opportunity for a quick exit.
Let no one say that Posteltwaites do not seize the opportunities presented to them. An exit is made, and quickly.
Off to question
Assessing his assorted weaponry, you go for the soft line.
"Oh, hello, fancy seeing you here."
Sir Bob grunts at you "Eh? Why do you say that? You watched me go into this room, then hung about like an anemic sloth for five minutes before entering."
He has you there. He swallows another hunk of croissant and stares at you. "So, what do you want?"
"Um, that is, would you be so awfully good as to relate exactly where you were on the night of the alleged begonia theft?" Ah, that's the tone you're looking for.
"What do you mean by 'alleged'? The b------ things are gone. They didn't just amble off by themselves."
Another good point. "Quite. Well, that's just a manner of speaking, what ho. So, now that we've dispensed with the pleasantries, again, I ask what were you doing that fateful night?"
"If you must know, I was watching you sneak in and out of the greenhouse."
This interview is really not going as well as you had hoped.
"Ah, quite. Well done! Anyway, I suppose that's all I need to know right now."
Sir Robert leans towards you, and whispers through clenched teeth "Except, perhaps, what exactly I am going to do to this begonia burglar when we find the evidence."
You bolt out of your chair, knocking over a sidetable. It hits a ceramic vase from some dynasty or another which teeters frantically before surrendering to the inevitable and shattering itself upon the ground.
Noticing that Sir Bob is on the floor, having made a bold, but ineffectual dive for the suicidal vase, you reflect that a prudent fellow might just see this as a good opportunity for a quick exit.
Let no one say that Posteltwaites do not seize the opportunities presented to them. An exit is made, and quickly.
Off to question