240 lines
9.8 KiB
Plaintext
240 lines
9.8 KiB
Plaintext
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Somewhere near Los Angeles. A cold Friday evening in February 1938.
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In this climate, cold is anywhere below about fifty degrees. Storm
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clouds are swimming across the sky, their bottoms glowing faintly from
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the city lights in the distance. A search light pans slowly under the
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clouds, heralding another film premiere. The air seems expectant, waiting
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for the rain to begin, like a cat waiting for the ineffable moment
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to ambush.
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The taxi has just dropped you off at the entrance to the Linders' driveway.
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The driver didn't seem to like venturing into this maze of twisty streets
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any more than you did. But the house windows are full of light, and
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radio music drifts toward you. Your favorite pistol, a snub-nosed Colt
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.32, is snug in its holster. You just picked up a match book off the
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curb. It might come in handy. Good thing you looked up the police file
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on Mrs. Linder's death. Her suicide note and the newspaper story told
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you all you know about the family. The long week is finished, except
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for this appointment. But why does an ominous feeling grip you?
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The WITNESS: An INTERLOGIC Mystery@*
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Copyright (c) 1983 Infocom, Inc. All rights reserved.@*
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WITNESS and INTERLOGIC are trademarks of Infocom, Inc.@*
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Revision number 15 / Serial number 830621
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You are now in the driveway entrance.@*
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You are standing at the foot of the driveway, the entrance to the Linder
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property. The entire lot is screened from the street and the neighbors
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by a wooden fence, except on the east side, which fronts on dense bamboo
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woods. The house looks like a mixture of a California bungalow and
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East Asian influences. From here you can see the driveway leading north
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and, beyond that, the front door.
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What should you, the detective, do now?
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NORTH
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You are now on the driveway.@*
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The driveway, paved with peastone, runs from the entrance at the south
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end in a curve to a two-car garage at the east end. North of you is
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the front porch, the entrance to the house.
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What next?
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NORTH
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You are now on the front porch.@*
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The front porch is in an alcove, sheltered from the weather by the
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walls and overhanging roof. A yellowish electric light hangs near the
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closed front door to the east, giving you a dim view of the driveway
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to the south and the front yard behind a gate to the north.
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The gate is closed. A door bell glows at you, almost daring you to
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ring it.
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What next?
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RING IT
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Someone turns off the radio. You hear footsteps inside the house. Then
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the door swings open.
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"Good evening," says a smiling face, "I am Phong. Please come in."
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He leads you into the house and closes the door behind you.
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You are now in the entry.@*
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Here in the entry is a small Shinto shrine, with a hanging scroll and
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an arrangement of flowers, as well as a coat closet and a platform
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for storing shoes. You can see a hallway to the east. The front door,
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on the west wall, is closed.
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Phong's straight black hair and folded eyelids make him obviously Asian,
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but no definite nationality. His open, almost gentle face holds a quick
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smile and eyes that seem to miss nothing. He carries his stout body
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lightly, but you can see great strength under his light shirt and dark
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trousers. You guess his age at about fifty, but who knows how many
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lifetimes of experience he carries?
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What next?
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READ SCROLL
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The scroll is written with a fine brush. Freely translated, it reads:
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@begin(verbatim)
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The WITNESS: An INTERLOGIC Mystery
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from Infocom, Inc.
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by Stu Galley
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based on an idea by
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Marc Blank and Dave Lebling
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Copyright (c) 1983 Infocom, Inc.
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All rights reserved.
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WITNESS and INTERLOGIC
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are trademarks of Infocom, Inc.
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@end(verbatim)
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Phong says, "I believe the Linders are in the living room. Please follow
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me." He leads you into a hallway and turns left. This hallway seems
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to run the length of the house, from the garage at the south end to
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the living room at the north. There is enough warm yellow light flooding
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from the living room for you to see a few doors on each side of the
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hall. As you get near the living room, you hear voices talking, half-loud
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and fast.
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You are now in the living room.@*
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A huge fieldstone fireplace on the south wall holds a blazing fire,
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filling the living room with warmth and light. Grouped in front of
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the fire are a glass-topped coffee table and a rattan davenport and
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club chair, with cushions covered in a print showing bamboo plants
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in the style of Japanese brush-painting. A lamp with a printed shade
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and a telephone sit on the table.
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On the north wall are a console radio and a liquor cabinet made of
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light-colored wood. A single door in the east wall is closed, and at
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the west end of the room is a double door.
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"Excuse me, sir," says Phong, "but the detective has arrived."
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Monica stops talking and looks at you sharply. She is a woman in her
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mid-twenties. Her grey eyes flash, emphasizing her dark waved hair
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and light but effective make-up. She wears a navy Rayon blouse, tan
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slacks, and tan pumps with Cuban heels. She acts as though you were
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a masher who just gave her a whistle.
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Linder stands at least six foot, with a powerful frame but quick actions,
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like a cat. His eyeglasses sit on top of his head, where thin strands
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of long black hair go here and there, mostly combed backward. His wide-set
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hazel eyes size you up quickly from within their pouches in his ruddy
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face. He wears a silk peach-colored Mandarin shirt and chocolate trousers,
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impeccably tailored and laundered, but sweat gleams on his high forehead,
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and he looks as though he hasn't slept much lately.
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Linder turns to you and says, "Detective, am I glad to see you! This
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is my daughter, Monica, and of course you've met Phong already." He
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looks at a wrist watch with a gleaming silver bracelet. "I see you're
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right on time. I'll be with you as soon as I finish my drink."
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Mr. Phong heads off to the south.
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(Mr. Linder is listening.)@*
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What next?
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MONICA, TELL ME ABOUT VIRGINIA
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Monica looks briefly toward Mr. Linder and then speaks in a whisper.
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"She was the most noble woman I've ever known. Did her best to be a
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'good wife' even though she was alone so much. No one understood her
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as I did, certainly not Father. Sometimes I feel I could just ..."
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She slams a clenched fist into her palm. She seems to remember who
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you are, then clams up.
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(Monica is listening.)@*
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What next?
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WAIT 60
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Time passes...
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Suddenly, a clap of thunder rolls across the hills outside.
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Without warning, lightning flashes outside, and a few seconds later
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thunder rattles the house.
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Rain begins to fall outside in a sprinkle.
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Linder gulps down the rest of his drink. "Well, Detective," he says,
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"I'm anxious to get on with our business. Let's you and I go to my
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office so we can talk undisturbed." He takes you by the arm and leads
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you through the hallway. Just south of the entry, he opens a door to
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the east and leads you through it.
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(office)@*
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This is obviously the office of Mr. Linder's company, Pacific Trade
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Associates. At the west end of the office, a massive desk of teak and
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mahogany faces toward the window. It has no drawers, but the top is
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covered with piles of letters, some newspapers, a telephone, and various
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souvenirs from the Far East.
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Behind it is a large ornately-carved chair, like a cruiser escorting
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a battle ship. A simple wooden chair, polished smooth by visitors,
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flanks the desk on the other side. On the north wall is a lounge, upholstered
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in green velvet and a bit lumpy, with a framed wood-block picture hanging
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over it. On the outside wall, next to a door and window, stands a grandfather
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clock, ticking relentlessly. A file cabinet stands in the corner.
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The door to the interior hallway is open.
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A cat is sleeping in the corner.
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Linder sits down in the carved chair.
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It's now 8:13 p.m.
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SIT ON WOODEN CHAIR
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You are now sitting on the wooden chair.@*
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Linder begins his story. "My late wife, may she rest in peace, got
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involved with a young man named Stiles. Naturally I tried to stop this
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affair, but without much success. Since my wife passed away, this Stiles
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fellow has gone off the deep end, I'm afraid, and blamed me for her
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death. I tried my best to ignore him, but he seems to have lost his
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senses. This morning I received this note and decided to ask your help."
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He hands the note to you.@*
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The rain outside is falling heavily now.
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WAIT FOR MONICA
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Time passes...
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The rain outside begins to taper off.
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The rain storm outside has passed now.
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The clock chimes once to mark the half hour.
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Monica bursts into the office, wearing a felt hat and wool coat, and
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struggling to get her driving gloves on. She glances icily in your
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direction and then back to her father. "I'm off to the pictures with
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Terry, Dad. Good-bye." She hugs him briefly but firmly, burying her
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head in his shoulder. He pushes her away and says, "You're leaving
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now?! I thought you'd be talking to the detective here. What about
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the threat on my life?" He has the hurt look of an orphan pup. She
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answers, "You don't need me here. I need to get away now and then.
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I'm not like Mother, you know." Tears well up in her eyes but she brushes
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them away before they drop. She turns to leave.@*
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Monica, for whom you are waiting, has arrived.@*
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It's now 8:36 p.m.
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WAIT FOR PHONG
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Time passes...
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Monica heads off to the west.@*
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Do you want to keep waiting? (Answer YES or NO.) >YES
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Outside somewhere, a car roars to life and speeds away.
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The clock chimes 9 times to mark the hour.
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You hear the door bell ring.
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Linder looks toward the window and says, "I don't think Phong has answered
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the door bell yet." He reaches toward the butler's button and at the
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same instant shouts "Stiles!" You turn around and dimly see a figure
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outside. Suddenly there is a flash of light and an explosion, and the
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window falls into dozens of shiny shards. The cat bolts and disappears
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somewhere. The figure outside turns and runs before you can see the
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face. When you turn back around, you see Linder slumping down in his
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chair, with a bloody stain spreading across his silk shirt. He teeters
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on the edge of the seat, then falls onto the floor, quite dead.
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It's now 9:03 p.m.
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