Fifteen Characters Meme: Results

[john_amend_all]

A couple of days ago, I picked up the fifteen characters meme from lost_spook. Since the deluge of replies has now ceased, here are the characters, and the answers (mostly in the form of drabbles or double-drabbles).

The fifteen characters are:

1. Rodger Baskerville aka John Stapleton [The Hound of the Baskervilles by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle]
2. Lavender Briggs [Blandings novels by P. G. Wodehouse]
3. George Smiley [Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy by John le Carre]
4. The Minister of Chance [Doctor Who: Death Comes To Time]
5. Lydia Gwilt [Armadale by Wilkie Collins]
6. Telzey Amberdon [Telzey Amberdon by James H. Schmitz]
7. Francois the Ogron [This Time Round fanfics by BKWillis and others]
8. Lord Fear [Knightmare]
9. Mycroft Holmes [Sherlock Holmes stories]
10. The Doctor (Joanna Lumley) [Doctor Who: The Curse of Fatal Death by Steven Moffat]
11. Slippery Jim DiGriz [The Stainless Steel Rat by Harry Harrison]
12. Count Fosco [The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins]
13. Deanna Troi [Star Trek TNG]
14. Lady Sybil Crawley [Downton Abbey]
15. Hercule Poirot [Poirot stories by Agatha Christie]

primsong came up with these questions:

1. Six [Telzey] and Eleven [Slippery Jim] unexpectedly run into one another in a crowded locale, making a scene, much to their embarrassment. What is so dubious about this event?

I spotted Telzey the moment she walked into the bar. That was all I needed. The mind shield I was wearing was fine for blocking casual contact— any businessman here, honest or crooked, would use something similar— but a high level psi like her wouldn't take long to get through it.

She didn't show any sign of recognising me, even when I slid up to her and bought her a drink. The last time we'd met, I'd been the other Jim DiGriz, a respectable, if overweight, dealer in vehicles, looking about ten years older than I really was. All I had to do was get rid of her before she got any ideas about prying around behind my shield, and then the operation could go ahead as planned.

"Tell you what, kid," I said, letting a healthy dose of lechery creep into my voice. "I've got a little proposition for you."

She didn't even let me get to the end of the proposition before telling the whole bar what she thought of creeps like me, throwing her drink over me, and storming out. So far, so good, I decided. Just as long as my wife never found out about it.

2. Will One [Stapleton] unleash a secret weapon against Ten [the Doctor]? Why and what happens?

The last obstacle to John Stapleton's plans was gone. Nothing now stood between him and his claim on—

"Morning," the Doctor said, strolling into the room as if she owned it.

Stapleton nearly choked on his toast, but managed to recover his composure. "You... slept well?"

"Like a top. Oh," she added, in tones suggesting she'd just remembered something utterly trivial. "You ought to be more careful with your specimens." She produced a jar from her pocket and set it on the table. "A Brazilian wandering spider. Quite deadly. Would you believe it was in my bed, of all places?"

3. Five [Lydia Gwilt] turns up in newspaper headlines because of their interactions with Two [Lavender Briggs] and Seven [Francois]. What is the headline?

SHE SENT APEMAN TO KILL ME

Today in the High Court former secretary Lavender Briggs claimed that former boss Lydia Gwilt tried to have her killed— by an APEMAN.

"He arrived at my house claiming to be a rag and bone man," she said. "I sent him about his business. Then he told me that Miss Gwilt had sent him to kill me. I was obliged to climb out of the kitchen window."

Under cross examination she admitted that the creature had not named Miss Gwilt, speaking only of a "Redhead chick with big rack."

Francois the Ogron is 47.

lost_spook asked:

3 [Smiley], 6 [Telzey] and 13 [Troi] are going on holiday. Who gets lost, who loses their luggage and who gets sunburnt?

"Young lady," George Smiley said, leaning back in his deckchair and pulling his hat over his face, "I suggest that you—"

"—Don't spend all day in the sun, because I'll get burnt," Telzey said. "You sound just like my aunt." She shifted position, trying to ignore the fact that her shoulders were already red and itchy. "Anyway, the suncream was in your luggage."

"And is therefore now on its way to Berne— and hopefully, those two agents you spotted are following it, not us. Have you managed to establish contact with the Counsellor yet?"

"She's still miles away." Telzey didn't sound as if she had a high opinion of the Counsellor's abilities. "How did she manage to get on the wrong train?"

"She's a stranger here, just as much as you are. And unlike you, she cannot extract the relevant details from the nearest available brain. She has to ask for directions, just as the rest of us mere mortals do."

"She's a much weaker psi than me. Why is she even—" Telzey's eyes widened, as she read the answer in the retired spymaster's thoughts. "Bait? That's very ruthless of you."

Smiley shrugged. "In this profession, I'm afraid that's inevitable."

9 [Mycroft] has been murdered; 4 [the Minister], 8 [Lord Fear] and 10 [the Doctor] are rival detectives. Who solves the mystery first, and how -- and which of the remaining 15 is the murderer?

This one was so appealing that I had to do it at full length, 1000 or so words.

"Well, now," the Doctor said, looking down at the body of Mycroft Holmes. "I suppose we'd better investigate this."

"If only to clear our own names," the Minister added.

The third person present seemed unconvinced. "Clear our names? I am Lord Fear! What concern is it to me whether people think I have killed this man? Many have fallen to my mighty power — what difference is one more?"

"Oh, so you're saying you aren't bright enough to work out who did it?" the Doctor said, winking at the Minister.

"Quite right," the Minister said, returning the wink. "Best leave it to the experts."

"Do not presume to mock me," Lord Fear snarled. "I, and I alone, shall discover the truth of this matter." He strode from the room, calling "Lissard! Attend me!" as he went.

"I hope you're happy," the Minister said. "Who knows what he'll do now?"

The Doctor grimaced. "Probably send a squad of goblins to beat random people up until someone confesses."

"Then the sooner we solve this case, the better." He gave her a sideways glance. "Which do you prefer — investigation in double harness, or separately?"

"Oh, on our own. You'd only slow me down."

The Minister bowed gravely, as the Doctor swept from the room.

*

"Ladies and gentlemen," the Doctor began. "We have asked you to gather here, to discuss the murder of Mycroft Holmes. We have agreed that each of us should present our own solutions to the mystery. As you have no doubt guessed, everybody in this room is a suspect, and a plausible case could be made against any of us."

"Do get a move on," Lord Fear muttered.

"Very well. Perhaps your lordship would like to tell us your solution?"

"With pleasure." The technomage strode into the centre of the room. "It was... him!"

He whirled around, pointing an accusing finger at the Ogron.

"And here is a signed confession," he added triumphantly, brandishing a parchment.

"May I see that?" The Doctor took the confession. "'Francois bash fat man with club on or about evening of July 30^th. X. Francois, his mark.' A convincing case, my lord, but unfortunately Mycroft Holmes wasn't bashed. He was poisoned. Better luck next time."

As the fuming mage resumed his seat, Deanna Troi nudged the teenager sitting beside her.

"I sense hostility," she whispered.

Telzey Amberdon made no verbal answer, but her expression suggested that it wouldn't surprise her if Counsellor Troi's next pronouncement was on the Pope's religion or the toilet habits of bears.

The Doctor, after exchanging a glance with the Minister, now took centre stage.

"You know," she said. "The funny thing about this case is that there are so many suspects. It could have been Mr. Smiley here; both are high officials in the British Government, involved in intelligence work. Perhaps Mr. Holmes had discovered some forgotten act of treachery or neglect." She turned slowly. "Maybe M. Poirot here took steps to make sure he was, without question, the greatest living detective. And as for Lady Sybil, she has no possible motive, no previous criminal record, and a cast-iron alibi. That makes her the most unlikely person, and therefore the prime suspect."

"So, what you're actually saying is, you don't know?" Jim DiGriz asked, leaning back in his chair and letting the ash from his cigar spill over the expensive carpet.

"Oh, I think it's pretty obvious. There's only one man here with motive, means and opportunity. Motive: Seeking to revenge himself on Sherlock Holmes, he resolved to murder his brother. Means: The chemicals he has at his disposal could kill a human as easily as a butterfly. Opportunity: he was seen in the area at the time of the death. Ladies and gentlemen, the murderer is Rodger Baskerville, better known to us as John Stapleton."

The Minister groaned. "Oh, dear."

To the wail of klaxons, the lights in the room dimmed and flashed alternately white and red. Simultaneously, the portraits hanging on the walls became black rectangles, bearing the neatly-printed words STAPLETON: TO GET REVENGE ON SHERLOCK HOLMES.

"That would be far too obvious," he said, as the sirens died away and the room returned to normal. "What were you doing, trying to bluff him into a confession?"

"I was trying to bluff the real murderer into a confession," the Doctor replied. "Now look what you've done!"

"It wouldn't have worked. The real murderer is far too cool a hand for that." The Minister rose to his feet. "Allow me to present him to you all. He has an unrivalled knowledge of poisons, one of the most devious minds the human race has produced, and a strength of will that few can match. Take a bow, Count Fosco."

The Count looked up calmly. "You have proof of this accusation?"

"I'm afraid so. You left a fingerprint on the decanter. Now, I believe you to be a sensible man, who knows when he has been beaten. Do you surrender?"

"You leave me no alternative." The Count also stood, and bowed politely to his accuser.

*

"Admit it," the Doctor said, once she and the Minister were alone together.

The Minister adopted a look of injured innocence. "Admit what?"

"You cheated, didn't you? You went back in a TARDIS and watched him do the murder. Or maybe you used a time-space visualiser. You probably faked the fingerprint, too."

"I certainly did not fake the fingerprint."

"And the rest?"

"You call it cheating," the Minister said haughtily. "I call it making use of all the facilities available to me."

The Doctor shook her head. "It'll get you into trouble one of these days."

"Considering how badly you manage to keep out of trouble, I'll take that as a compliment." The Minister turned to the sideboard, and picked up a bottle. "Fancy a drink?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

The Minister turned back, with two brimming glasses in his hands, and gave one to her. "And so ends another case," he said, clinking his own glass against hers. "Soupy twist."