h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Don't post yet - this is a thread in waiting

Ahem. Here it is, at long last: The UG Birthday Penny Dreadful Project.

To repeat the rules:

Follow the writer's bible at http://www.bbc.co.uk/dna/h2g2/brunel/A40283976.

Take turns.

No spitting - and no smileys.

Next thread starts the tale. (I will stay out of it after this.)

It was a dark and stormy night. Arthur Cleghorne shifted uneasily on the rich Corinthian leather sofa in the library of the Springer mansion, listening to the beating of the rain on the leaded casement windows. He turned the piece of thick embossed paper over in his hand:

Dear Friend:

I will never forget our first meeting. Will you?
Please join me at the manse on 13th September, inst., where you will learn something to our mutual advantage.

Yours sincerely,
Rupert Springer


He wondered what his companions thought of it all. He wondered also if he dared to get up and pour himself a drink - or if that woman's Yorkie would snap at him. He was afraid of dogs.

Already standing at the drinks cabinet, Simon Fairweather sniffed at the dog. He hated animals that pretended to be something they weren't. Terrier? More like a rat with attitude.

But he could look past the scruffy little beast as it's owner was very easy on the eye. As Simon sipped Scotch, his mind, and his own eyes, wandered over the lady seated gracefully near him.

Olga sat on a chintz-covered chair, showing as much of her long bronzed legs as possible. She was bored. When she had received her invitation from Rupert Springer she had imagined there might be a party, with important people from the fashion industry. As it was, there was a grey-haired man who looked as if he'd never ventured out of the Home Counties and a younger man who seemed to be simply here for the drinks.

She scratched absentmindely at a spot just behind Cuddles' ears, but this little to stop his incessant yapping. The young man raised his eyebrows as the dogs barking seemed to rise an octave, then lowered his eyes back down to her legs. Cheeky, but he did seem to have nicely toned calves. She smiled to herself then, perhaps he was a millionaire in need of some arm candy. Lord knows she'd filled those shoes before, until the old man had kicked the bucket. She managed to catch his eye as he sipped from his glass and raised a fine eyebrow of her own in his direction.

It was at this point that the butler opened the door to the library and stood in the doorway with the air of someone with an important announcement to make.

"Excuse me, Madam, gentlemen. I regret to inform you that Mr Springer is dead. He appears to have been shot."

Three pairs of eyes stared at the butler in stunned silence.

With a little yelp Cuddles leapt off Olga's lap and made for the open door.

There was a pause. Only an ear attuned by custom to the distant burble of a summer stream might have discerned a noise at that instant and no such ear was to be found in the room. Their eyes were working perfectly and all eyes were fixed on Cuddles. Olga finally broke the silence.

"Cuddles! I really don't know what's gotten into him, er...?"

"Jeeves, madam."

"I really don't know what's gotten into him, Jeeves, he was just out..." She thought for a moment. "Really? Jeeves?"

The butler sighed. "Yes madam."

"Extraordinary. Well." She regained her train of thought, decided to disembark from it, remembered the butler's original message, shuddered, recomposed herself, resumed. "Have you summoned the police?"

"No madam. Having discovered the body, I came here at once. Should I ring the police now?"

"Most certainly! Then you can change your trousers."

"Shot! Shot by what? What do you mean 'appears' ... either he's shot, or he's not. Where? And when exactly?"

Jeeves paused on his way to the phone, looking over at the glaring Arthur.

"I'm not an expert in firearms, sir," said Jeeves, with as much dignity as he could muster, in view of the damp patch on his trousers. "But I found Mr Springer at his desk in his study, with a hole in the back of his neck."

Simon sighed and sipped his scotch. Perhaps this little gathering would prove to be more interesting than he had expected. On the other hand, this could mean several boring hours of police questioning, and he had hoped to get out of here before midnight. He had an appointment to keep. 'In either case,' he reflected, 'I'm going to need more scotch.'

While Simon poured himself another Scotch, Arthur sighed. He couldn't reveal his background in MI5 but he felt obliged to do something.

"I know a thing or two about firearms. I could take a look at the deceased."

"You can look, but you can't touch..." Simon drawled, lifting his eyes from where they'd slipped back down to Olga's legs.

Pre-empting another volley from Arthur, he continued quickly, "I mean no messing around with evidence and all that. Actually, we should all go, if anyone goes, no?"

"Safety in numbers?" Olga asked, gazing at Simon, "Standard procedure? We all see the unfinished, scrawled note on the desk at the same time?"

She turned to Jeeves, as he put the phone down. "What did they say, Jeeves?"

"Nothing, madam. That is to say I obtained no answer, the line is dead madam."

The guests stared at the butler as they absorbed this disturbing news. The ferocity of the rain, hammering on the windows seemed to increase in the shocked silence. Arthur opened his mouth to speak but before he could utter a syllable, they were suddenly plunged into darkness. Olga gasped and the little dog snarled.

Gathering his thoughts once more, Arthur asked, "Jeeves, where is the fuse box?"

A flash of lightening illuminated the ghastly tableau.

"Interesting weather," said Jeeves, trying to give the impression that this sort of thing happened frequently in well-to-do houses. "There's a torch in the bookcase next to you, sir. And, as it seems likely that there's a murderer in the house, may I suggest we all go together."

Jeeves led the way followed by Olga. Cuddles was tucked under her arm twisting around to snarl first at Jeeves in front, then at the two men behind. Arthur took the rearguard, shining the torch ahead. As he cleared the doorway the heavy iron and oak door crashed shut behind them and a roll of thunder shook the house from its Neo Gothic turrets to its medieval foundations. Cuddles leapt from Olga's arms and fled into the pitch black.

"Cuddles!" Olga screamed and dived after.

"Wait! Keep together" shouted Arthur, pointing the torch after them. There was no sign of either Olga or dog. The torch flickered, dimmed and went out.

"I do believe I may have used the last of the fuse wire on Friday, Sir" Jeeves said, stopping in his tracks.

Simon drew a sharp breath and immediately wished he hadn't.
"Tell me, Jeeves, are your quarters far from here? And do you have some spare batteries somewhere?", he asked.

"There are batteries in the kitchen, Sir. That's this way."

As he opened another heavy door, a terrible scream rent the air.

"My God! What now?" Simon groaned. "It must be our missing lady. But where is the sound coming from? This place echoes like the tomb."

Jeeves answered but his words were drowned out by the roar of the wind and the branches of a tree thrashing against a window at the end of the corridor. Another flash revealed the direction of his gaze and the horrified expression on his face. Arthur and Simon turned to discover the cause of the butler's distress. A split second before pitch darkness snapped down once more, they saw a shadow disappearing through a door.

Arthur gripped the butler's arm. "Jeeves! Who was that? Hurry up man! Speak! Ms Lupinova is in trouble. Who else is in this house?"