The scent of the feast rising up with the echoes from the banquet hall below. The sound of a grand piano rendering an exquisite recital of "Clair De Lune". The touch of the cold morning wind as one steps out onto the balcony. The sight of a mysterious, zeppelin-ish aerocraft dancing a waltz before the curtains of the falling night. An otherwise picturesque scene, if not for the taste of death in the air.
Could someone so young and puritan be capable of such a heinous crime as murder? The answer is likely to be yes, unfortunately. In today's world where children walk the streets with their pants hanging an inch below their waistline and women are afforded the right to drink carbonated beverages on the public transportation vehicle, not even the once noble Bostonian youth can be trusted. He's also wearing a girl's costume, so there's that.
[Victim] Saxton Hale? He's lookin' a little Saxton Pale these days, if you know what I mean. Heh. What? You expect me to kiss his ass even when I got nothin' to gain from it? Let's be realistic here, buddy.
[Suspect] When them lights on that boat went out, the last thing I heard was a gunshot. Now unless I'm mistaken, our ol' pal Engie is the only fella who was packin' heat for the cruise over. Which, if you ask me, makes no frickin' sense what-so-ever. Why would he kill him? No Saxton Hale means no new guns and no new guns means no job. The only way I see these dots connecting is if one of us is on some other guy's payroll.
[Candlestick] Yeah... So I found this candlestick on the boat, right? Then I thought, "Hey, this is kinda like a bat. What a good time to practice my swing using these IV bags filled with some dude's blood that just happened to be in this cooler I accidentally opened!" What could go wrong, you ask? Quite a lot, it turns out. You'd be surprised.
[Balcony] Soon as that ship sank, I came to the obvious conclusion that I'd had enough of this crap. So me an' the... "other" Medic here got the hell outta dodge. Can you really blame us either? Two people got offed right in front of my eyes and the killer's still out there somewhere. I figure this gotta be the safest place to wait out until we get rescued.
An inappropriately handsome man with a moustache for the ages. Staring at his perfectly chiseled face is like looking into a mirror... to another world. That is to say, his beauty is otherworldy.
[Victim] ... (No response.)
[Identity] ... (No response.)
[Der Braunstein] ... (No response.)
[Balcony] ... (No response.)
From up here, the world seems so small.
At the end of any adventure, one would usually count himself lucky to find a treasure chest. This chest, however, holds something far more valuable to those who would wish to survive this night; it contains a clue.
This must be the prodding device that vampire was rambling on about earlier; one of a handful of potential murder weapons strewn about the island. Determining how it got to be all the way up here may be crucial to solving this mystery.
A beerstein of the brown variety. One whiff of the substance held within provides an aroma of waning familiarity as if it were plucked from a recent dream; a memory almost unremembered.