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Sleuth Olympics Third Week's Activities
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Pinball Amateur

Aug-16-2016 23:07

There will be 4 activities this week. All events start on Thursday, August 18, at 12:00 AM, SST. Three of the four events are continued from last week. Good luck. ;-)

1. Treasure Hunts - Week 2
This event lasts two weeks. You were given the instructions for this last week, so if you need to review them, please read the Second Week's Activities' thread. The scoring system HAS BEEN REVAMPED. All hunts are now worth 10 points, not 100. Teams receive 3 participation points for the FIRST six hunts they open and do one favor for in the correct categories. Once you have completed six hunts in the same categories as before, YOU ARE DONE. This activity ends on Wednesday, August 24th.

2. Scavenger Hunt - Week 2
This is the SECOND part of this event. You have one week to complete this activity. Please send a screenshot of your locker to Riza Hawkeye for verification purposes by Thursday, August 18, 12:00 AM, SST. All items on List #1 are INVALID after Wednesday, August 17, 11:59 PM, SST. You will be given a second list on the Sleuth Talk board. All items MUST BE COLLECTED IN ORDER, and screenshots must be sent to Riza as you collect each item. You have until Wednesday, August 24, 11:59 PM, SST, to complete this list.

3. Role Playing Essay Contest - Week 2
This event lasts two weeks. You were given the instructions for this last week, so if you need to review them, please read the Second Week's Activities' thread. Essays are due Wednesday, August 24, 11:59 PM, SST.

4. Twist/Closer Contest
This is a *TEAM* writing contest. One writer for your team is already assuming most of the responsibility for the Role Playing Essay, so DO NOT BUG THEM about this. The other 3 members of the team will submit ONE entry. Together, you will submit the idea and writing for ONE complete twist (and accompanying closer). Ideas and writing must be as fully detailed as possible. You must include descriptions of the twist's effects if necessary (gain faction standing, trigger Larry the Toe, etc).


Super Steeper

Aug-24-2016 21:21

Paris, 1924, Newspaper Headline: Drama at the Olympics
My head snapped up when I heard yells in the lobby of the Majestic.
Two men were fighting in front of a lady who was calmly, too calmly, drinking tea. It was none other than the Golden Dragon of the Tea Steepers herself. I strolled up to her table as the men continued to punch each other.
“This your doing?” I asked, jutting my chin out at the men fighting.
“But of course, detective,” she answered. Her golden robe was still present beneath her kimono, but only the most trained eye would see. She asked me if I was involved in the horse murder. “No,” I said. I was on vacation and ill-prepared to solve a mystery.
She motioned for me to sit. Quickly her hand was in the air and tea appeared in front of me faster than my detective abilities could fathom. I looked down and noticed the tea was how I liked it: cream and sugar. I took one sip and waited for her amusement with the fighting men to end.
I never got the chance.
Some time later I woke in the storage shed for the yachting team. My head was pounding; I had obviously been drugged. But as I reached for my wallet, a key fell out of my shirt pocket. It was a strange key with a floatation device attached to it. Turning it over I saw the number 4.
My drugged mind cleared quickly. This was the key to the locker of the yacht team member who had died in the lobby of the Majestic. With a click the key turned in the lock and I held my breath as I opened it. Dozens of newspaper clippings from the City News fell to my feet. On them were scribbles detailing the crimes and how the Eastern Tea Steepers were behind it. Last, but not least, was the clipping from the horse murder.
I had been drawn into their confidence and it was more important than ever that I carefully tread the waters that the Golden Dragon had invited me to. I stepped out from the shed onto the lake as the gun went off for the 1924 Olympic games, holding my breath that I wouldn’t be one of their future news clippings.

Pinball Amateur

Aug-24-2016 21:35

Very nice, CodeRed!! ;-D Way to go! !


Super Steeper

Aug-24-2016 21:50

Posting for Ms Helen & Team
I decided it was time to return to the office and run through what I had learned so far. The sky was turning dark, threatening rain, so I picked up the pace and ducked down the alley at the side of [the bar]. Ahead of me I could hear a muffled commotion. As I drew nearer I saw a door open, and a burly man deposit a rather sorry looking patron against the wall opposite. [He] looked rather the worse for wear, and carried on arguing even after the burly man had disappeared behind the closed door. I contemplated whether to turn back, when the inebriate stood, shakily, and turned to face me. It was my client, [Benjamin Ringold].


“Had a bit too much to drink have we?” I asked.

[He] made [his] way towards me, one hand on the wall beside [him], the other on [his] stomach. “I thin… I thi… I think I’ve had too much t-to drink”

“You don’t say?” I took a step back and covered by mouth. I wasn’t sure what [he]’d been drinking, but it was certainly potent.

[He] took another step and stumbled. It was clear from [his] lack of reactions that [he] was going to hit the deck, and hard, so I took pity and caught [him]. I dragged [him] back to the wall and propped [him] up. “I sh…should never have come to you,” [he] spluttered.

“Why not?” I asked.

“[Sunny Giron] was… was a… a… an awful person. I’m glad [she]’s d-dead.” And with that, [he] passed out.

I called for a cab to take [Benjamin] home, and thought about what [he] said on the walk back to the office. Could this mean [he] didn’t do it? It’s normally the way of the drunkard to spill truths they would never utter sober, and it certainly was a surprise to hear [he] hated [Sunny] so much. Or, could it be a ruse, to throw me off the scent?

Super Steeper

Aug-24-2016 21:50

On quitting the case:

I decided not to pursue the murder of [Sunny Giron] any further. Hearing the comments from the client, [Benjamin Ringold] in the alley that evening made me question [his] motives for hiring me in the first place, which was enough to make me walk away. Trust is a fickle enough thing in this line of work. It isn’t worth getting tangled up in the misdirected anger of a client who can’t be upfront and at least admit they didn’t like the victim.

If client is guilty:

I heard down the line that it was in fact [Benjamin] who killed [Sunny]. Maybe [he] was just trying to play me after all.

If client is not guilty:

I heard down the line that it was [John Russell] who killed [Sunny]. Perhaps [Benjamin] knew that all along, and regretted hiring me for that reason.

On completing the case, client guilty:

I was more than a little surprised to see that [Benjamin] was the murderer. I almost fell for the drunken act that night, but in the end, that was all it was, an act. And sometimes, it seems the most desperate people will do whatever it takes to try cover their tracks.

On completing the case, client not guilty:

I wasn’t surprised to find that [Benjamin] wasn’t the murderer after all. I never asked [him] about that night afterwards, but I get the feeling that [he] was more honest there than [he]’d been any other time I’d dealt with [him].

The Twist picture can be found on our website.

Tag brackets have been placed around the things that would need to be tagged.


Aug-24-2016 21:53

The Twist

It had been a long night. All I wanted to do was to sit back by the fire, have a drink of something on the rocks and go over the files. Eventually, I hoped I’d even go to bed.

I was dragging my feet up the stairs towards my apartment, cursing the lack of lights once more. Damn janitor promised to change those a week ago. I fumbled with the keys to get them into the lock, muttering under my breath. The second I realized the door was already open, I silently pulled out my gun from its holster, bursting into the room aiming for the intruder.

Sitting in my chair, with a distraught look on his face, was Larry the Toe. The man who’s never to be found when you needed him was actually sitting in my living room. Well if that ain’t something!

“Detective, I need your help,” Larry pleaded as I lowered my gun. “I’ll cut the story short. I’m in a relationship with Big Lucy, have been for a long time. A couple of weeks ago, we got into a fight. I went out to the bar, got drunk and made a pass on this slip of a girl working there. Nothing special happened, with the exception of some flirting. She wasn’t even my type and I really do love Lucy. But now her father is blackmailing me, threatening to tell her everything.”

“I’m already on a case, Larry. How is it that you think I can help you?”

“That’s just it. Solve the case, detective. Her father is your client!”


Aug-24-2016 21:54

The closers

Continue case

They arrested Johnny Mondo that morning, with evidence proving there was no way anyone else could have done it. Later that night, there was a knock on my door. As I opened it, there stood Larry, with a big smile on his face. The door wasn’t even open yet, as he barged into the room and hugged me tightly. Stranger things have happened, but this was definitely in my top three.

“Thank you, detective. I told Lucy myself about what happened and we’re good. I have no guarantees Mark Bluesmith won’t try this again. I didn’t know how to repay you, but Lucy suggested we offer you a discount in her shop. So if you’re ever in New York, you know where to look for us. Good bye.”

With that, Larry was gone and I was baffled. People actually bought Lucy’s stuff?!

- 50% off for a purchase

Quit case

I decided there was too much pressure on me from all sides. The police ended up doing an arrest of their own, putting Johnny Mondo in prison a week later.

But Larry showed up at my door again, a dejected look on his face. “I believed you could pull this off, Detective. I believed in you. Now my relationship with Lucy is on the rocks. Next time you’re going to be looking for her, make sure your pockets are full.”

Larry stormed back down the stairs, leaving me worried about what was to come.

- The price to find Lucy’s location upon the next visit doubles.


Aug-24-2016 21:58

These are our entries, which we hope you'll like. We pulled the tags we used for the names and added actual names , but they're easy to customize for the actual boards, we think. We tried keeping things short .

Con Artist

Aug-24-2016 22:31

Walking down the crowded sidewalk back to my office after a long day, my mind was distracted and I was getting tired of talking to people. Rather, I was getting tired of NOT talking to people. Either they weren't feeling talkative, or they weren't home, or they dropped dead, or they talked, but gave me nothing useful. I spent 20 minutes listening to Loretta Cane discuss her canaries' defecation schedule. Twenty minutes! Oh well, at least it's billable time.

A shout interrupted my musings about clammy people and messy birds. It wasn't clear enough to make out the words but the tone was crystal. Someone needed help. I began running towards the noise and noticed someone dart out of an alley on the other side of the street. Figuring they were also running towards the noise, I ignored them.

Then I heard what no one ever wants to hear - the "ping!" of a ricochet. I instinctively ducked behind the closest barrier, which happened to be an over-flowing trash bin that smelled as if it hadn't been emptied since Teddy Roosevelt called 1600 Pennsylvania home.

Luckily, behind the Trash Bin of Lucifer was a warren of alleys in which I was able to lose my would-be assassin. As little progress as I was making, it was apparently too much for someone. Maybe the reward, no matter how badly I needed it, simply wasn't worth the risk.

When I got back to my office there was a piece of paper stuck under my door. Being a bit wary after nearly being filled with daylight, I wasn't sure I should open it. But one thing all sleuths have in common is curiosity.

When I unfolded the paper, I was unsurprised to find a note, obviously written quickly, that said "Talk to Hortense Menkveld. You may find it enlightening."

And a new suspect is revealed.

Quit Case

Continue Investigation

Con Artist

Aug-24-2016 22:32


A few days after wrapping up the case, I was approached by a small, frail man who appeared to be in his 70s. He said, "My name is Harold Kumar and I was a good friend of Edmund Bowen. Edmund once told me he was afraid of Hortense. I didn't know if it would do any good, but I felt you should know about it." Tears glistened in his faded green eyes.

"I came to your office, but you were out. I was afraid that if I waited I would lose my courage, or it would be too late, so I left the note."

{Here, depending on whether the Revealed Suspect was guilty, it would end one of these two ways:}

"I know she didn't turn out to be the killer, but thank you for looking into her."

I said "Of course. That's my job. And I'm sorry for your loss." He thanked me again and shuffled away, a sense of heartache radiating from his frail body.


"Thank you for looking into Hortense Menkveld. Maybe now I can move on, knowing she will face justice."

I said "Of course. That's my job. And I'm sorry for your loss." He thanked me again and shuffled away, a sense of heartache radiating from his frail body.

Sleuth Sindy
Sleuth Sindy
Pinball Wizard

Aug-24-2016 23:14


What I hadn’t told my client was that I had seen the victim, William Buchanan, at the Tricky Mister the evening he was killed. He had been standing at the bar discussing the finer points of mixology with the bartender, Cyrus Tibby. William had caught my attention because of the aura of destiny that hovered over him. He had that inner something--charisma--that makes your gaze pause and then linger on someone as you enter a room. As I watched William debating with Cyrus the best way to assemble a Manhattan, he had suddenly turned and looked straight at me, and I noticed that the azure buttons of his shirt matched the color of his eyes perfectly. Then Cyrus had leaned jealously in and touched William’s shirt sleeve to claim his attention once more.

After leaving the crime scene (having seen those azure eyes dimmed to cold, sightless marbles) I headed home. In my bedroom I dropped my clothes on the floor, crawled into bed and pulled the covers up over my head, feeling bleak and detached from the world around me. Sooner than I had thought possible, I drifted off to sleep and found myself dreaming that I was following William home from the Tricky Mister to his apartment. In my dream, I waited outside his building until the lights were turned out, then made my way stealthily up the stairs and picked the lock to his apartment door. With growing apprehension, I looked down and saw my feet moving toward the bedroom door where I knew William lay sleeping. As my mind screamed in silent horror, I saw my arm extend and open that door, then my hands reach out and tighten around his throat.

As I stood over the bed siphoning the life from the hapless victim, a movement at the periphery of my vision made me glance up, and I saw a mirror at the head of William’s bed. The face reflected back at me was unrecognizable--suffused with a malevolent sneer that made my stomach lurch. I was desperately trying to wake myself from this nightmare when suddenly the

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