RING THE DOORBELL| | Someone turns off the radio. You hear footsteps inside the house. Then the door swings open. \"Good evening,\" says a smiling face, \"I am Phong. Please come in.\" He leads you into the house and closes the door behind you.| | You are now in the entry.| Here in the entry is a small Shinto shrine, with a hanging scroll and an arrangement of flowers, as well as a coat closet and a platform for storing shoes. You can see a hallway to the east.| Phong's straight black hair and folded eyelids make him obviously Asian, but no definite nationality. His open, almost gentle face holds a quick smile and eyes that seem to miss nothing. He carries his stout body lightly, but you can see great strength under his light shirt and dark trousers. You guess his age at about fifty, but who knows how many lifetimes of experience he carries?| | Phong says, \"I believe the Linders are in the living room. Please follow me.\" He leads you into a hallway and turns left. This hallway seems to run the length of the house, from the garage at the south end to the living room at the north. There is enough warm yellow light flooding from the living room for you to see a few doors on each side of the hall. As you get near the living room, you hear voices talking, half-loud and fast.| | You are now in the living room.| A huge fieldstone fireplace on the south wall holds a blazing fire, filling the living room with warmth and light. Grouped in front of the fire are a glass-topped coffee table and a rattan davenport and club chair, with cushions covered in a print showing bamboo plants in the style of Japanese brush-painting. A lamp with a printed shade and a telephone sit on the table. On the north wall are a console radio and a liquor cabinet made of light-colored wood.| | \"Excuse me, sir,\" says Phong, \"but the detective has arrived.\"| | Monica stops talking and looks at you sharply. She is a woman in her mid-twenties. Her grey eyes flash, emphasizing her dark waved hair and light but effective make-up. She wears a navy Rayon blouse, tan slacks, and tan pumps with Cuban heels. She acts as though you were a masher who just gave her a whistle.| Linder stands at least six foot, with a powerful frame but quick actions, like a cat. His eyeglasses sit on top of his head, where thin strands of long black hair go here and there, mostly combed backward. His wide-set hazel eyes size you up quickly from within their pouches in his ruddy face. He wears a silk peach-colored Mandarin shirt and chocolate trousers, impeccably tailored and laundered, but sweat gleams on his high forehead, and he looks as though he hasn't slept much lately.| | Linder turns to you and says, \"Detective, am I glad to see you! This is my daughter, Monica, and of course you've met Phong already.\" He looks at a wrist watch with a gleaming silver bracelet. \"I see you're right on time. I'll be with you as soon as I finish my drink.\" Mr. Phong heads off to the south.| | What next?| | >WAIT| | Time passes...| | Suddenly, a clap of thunder rolls across the hills outside.| | Without warning, lightning flashes outside, and a few seconds later thunder rattles the house.| | Rain begins to fall outside in a sprinkle.| | Linder gulps down the rest of his drink. \"Well, Detective,\" he says, \"I'm anxious to get on with our business. Let's you and I go to my office so we can talk undisturbed.\" He takes you by the arm and leads you through the hallway. Just south of the entry, he opens a door to the east and leads you through it.| | (office)| This is obviously the office of Mr. Linder's company, Pacific Trade Associates. At the west end of the office, a massive desk of teak and mahogany faces toward the window. It has no drawers, but the top is covered with piles of letters, some newspapers, a telephone, and various souvenirs from the Far East.| Behind it is a large ornately-carved chair, like a cruiser escorting a battle ship. A simple wooden chair, polished smooth by visitors, flanks the desk on the other side. On the north wall is a lounge, upholstered in green velvet and a bit lumpy, with a framed wood-block picture hanging over it. On the outside wall, next to a door and window, stands a grandfather clock, ticking relentlessly. A file cabinet stands in the corner.| A cat is sleeping in the corner.| Linder sits down in the carved chair.| It's now 8:13 p.m.| | >SIT ON WOODEN CHAIR| | You are now sitting on the wooden chair.| Linder begins his story. \"My late wife, may she rest in peace, got involved with a young man named Stiles. Naturally I tried to stop this affair, but without much success. Since my wife passed away, this Stiles fellow has gone off the deep end, I'm afraid, and blamed me for her death. I tried my best to ignore him, but he seems to have lost his senses. This morning I received this note and decided to ask your help.\" He hands the note to you.| The rain outside is falling heavily now.| | >WAIT| | Time passes...| | The rain outside begins to taper off.| | The rain storm outside has passed now.| | The clock chimes once to mark the half hour.| | Monica bursts into the office, wearing a felt hat and wool coat, and struggling to get her driving gloves on. She glances icily in your direction and then back to her father. \"I'm off to the pictures with Terry, Dad. Good-bye.\" She hugs him briefly but firmly, burying her head in his shoulder.| He pushes her away and says, \"You're leaving now?! I thought you'd be talking to the detective here. What about the threat on my life?\" He has the hurt look of an orphan pup.| She answers, \"You don't need me here. I need to get away now and then. I'm not like Mother, you know.\" Tears well up in her eyes but she brushes them away before they drop. She turns to leave.| Monica, for whom you are waiting, has arrived.| It's now 8:36 p.m.| | >WAIT| | Time passes...| | Monica heads off to the west.| | Outside somewhere, a car roars to life and speeds away.| | The clock chimes 9 times to mark the hour.| | You hear the door bell ring.| | Linder looks toward the window and says, \"I don't think Phong has answered the door bell yet.\" He reaches toward the butler's button and at the same instant shouts \"Stiles!\" You turn around and dimly see a figure outside. Suddenly there is a flash of light and an explosion, and the window falls into dozens of shiny shards. The cat bolts and disappears somewhere. The figure outside turns and runs before you can see the face. When you turn back around, you see Linder slumping down in his chair, with a bloody stain spreading across his silk shirt. He teeters on the edge of the seat, then falls onto the floor, quite dead.| It's now 9:03 p.m.">>