The suspects have gathered in the dining room. This is where Michael McKean reveals that they ALL did it, right?
“Can I ask where these came from?” Donald demands.
Um … is that a booger?
Carl says he found them. “On Alan’s body. On his NECK, to be precise.”
Sandy wants a closer look. “Mr. Steele? With your permission?”
“I have a theory!” Carl proclaims, getting up to expound.
Sandy’s not buyin’ it.
Carl continues his dissertation. “Those are threads. Pieces of fabric.
Fabric that must have unraveled, been strained.”
“Now, we know Alan’s neck was broken. I think whoever broke it used a rope, or a sash, or something made with those fibers to do it.”
Gosh. If his jacket were just a little more rumpled, he’d be this guy!
Now Laura’s killer instincts come into play. “So you’re suggesting we look for whatever these threads came from?”
“Rip the place apart if we have to,” Carl demands. “But if you find the source of those threads, you’ve found your killer.”
Don ain’t buyin’ it.
“Right, Carl, we’ll rip the house apart.”
“And give YOU time to hide the gun.”
I thought we’d pretty well established that the gun is ALREADY hidden.
“Of course! You got here, you realized you couldn’t shoot him without everyone hearing it, so you broke his neck, then you HID the gun.”
Oh, dear. Can’t we all just get along?
“Any thoughts about lunch?”
There goes Laura, assaulting the man again. Good thing her fingernails are short and blunt!
“A little levity,” Steele explains.
See? Laura thinks it’s very funny.
“Gun or no gun,” Steele continues, “it seems clear to me that Carl might be onto something.”
Just one question:
“Does this mean we all have to run up the stairs again?”
Not a fan of exercise, Mr. Steele? I’m reminded of a comment Pierce Brosnan made about his dread of having to get in shape for another Bond performance: “I’m going to have to do all that running again. And the gym is such a bore.” I agree, Mr. B!
Laura takes pity.
“Might I make a suggestion, sir?”
Why don’t we all take a break? Murphy needs to fingerprint everyone so he can have something to compare with the prints he took off the elevator.”
Looks like the rest of the group is ALL on board with that suggestion.
Those of you who wish to look for the source of the fibers, can.”
She returns to Steele.
“And those who wish to have a little chat can.”
Steele grabs the lifeline. “Splendid suggestion, Miss Holt.”
“We’ll all- regroup in an hour,” he concludes, striking a muscle man pose to emphasize his authority.
And off they go. To chat.