Brenna swallowed hard as she took in the scene in front of her. She had never seen so much blood in her lfe, and she had never smelled something as bad either. She debated tying her hankerchief around her mouth but dismissed it when she remembered she had once agian forgotten to bring one. Instead she tried to consintrate on what the butler was saying without yarking up her lunch. Who could have done this horrible thing? Well she intended to find out! The man responsible needed to be brought to justice and she was going to let the people of the world now about the man that had done this she dug out her tape recorder and began her ususal mumblings and musings.
Watching Reardon walk past him and up to the top of the stairs while holding some strange item in his hand, Grut simply shook his head. After hearing out the man, he realised that he had made a wrong assumption by saying that the murder had been at night. With all the eeriness of the mansion and known murder, nighttime had automatically jumped into his mind—or else it had just seemed right when someone mentioned it earlier. Regardless, Grut decided that he should find out when it really was when the right time arose to ask. "Let us," he responded grimly to Brenna's asking that they should move on. With a wave of the pipe he held in his hand, he rejected the offered arm that she held out. He didn't want any help—or a lady that close. Focusing on the task at hand, he made it to the second level of the mansion with a final push against his cane to help him up—and to physically push away the feelings that Brenna had just brought to the surface. Following after the group and Harold, Grut slipped past the man with an arm patch on his uniform. "Us, humans, don't usually think about extra-terrestrials when sanely looking at murder cases," he said wryly with a wink as he went on by. He wasn't the first to get a look at the bathroom which had been the host of a murder not so long ago. Some people backed away from the sight or seemed to take the scene very hard—but Grut simply added a touch of smoke to the bloody smell with a puff on his pipe. These things happen, he thought without mercy. One young lad didn't appear to be affected either, and asked a question straight away. When a notepad and pencil appeared in the man's hands, Grut remembered exactly who he was. Seeing Brenna with a tape recorder, he waited until after Quincy spoke up before turning calmly back to Harold. "So... who gets to own all of Jimmy's things now that he's gone?" Grut's pipe moved around in his mouth as he spoke. "Or more specifically, this mansion and wealth," he amended.
Brenna scowled at Mr. Grut's question, it just seemed so..so callous. Than she shook her head, of course...he was looking for a motive. Well she at least hoped he was looking for a motive, she glanced uneasily his way trying to figure him out.
Brenna raised her hand and called out "was there a wife or mistress of any sort?" it may sound anti femenist but it was normally one of those two that had committed similiar crimes.
Grut just stared back at the smile offered to him by the Butler. The man had readily answered his question, with what would appear to most as a very noble course of action. But Grut couldn't help but wonder if Harold was in fact wrong with his statement that no one else was left in Jimmy's bloodline. Someone may turn up on the unsuspecting Butler with a claim to the mansion. Although that would be mighty suspicious, he realised. But if the Butler was right, it did answer Brenna's question. Grut had noticed that Harold had not directly answered the lady, but realised that it had been on purpose. And he hadn't noticed the look she had given him as he asked his question. As Harold turned around and headed back down the stairs, Grut nodded at Brenna before quickly limping after him—quickly for an old man with a cane, that is. "Master Butler," he said to Harold as he came alongside him on the staircase, purposely giving him the wrong title. "I'm afraid you didn't quite fully answer that young detective lad's question. What time in the day did you find your Jimmy fellow dead?" Grut took his pipe out of his mouth before continuing. "One more thing. Have the police determined how the killer entered the mansion?"
Brenna kept quiet, preffering to let the others ask the questions as she mumbled into her recorder. This was interesting..most interesting. She walked forward a bit to get a better look at the bathtub, and slipped on the tile almost plunging into the bloody bathtub. Shaken she stepped out of the room and leaned against the wall to catch her breath.
Stepping carefully, Grut continued on down the stairs as Harold answered his questions. He had also heard the excited Reardon try to pin the poor Butler into being involved with the case as he waved an item around dangerously. A mention of star jumps and a disgruntled look caused Grut to wonder who, exactly, the clean-cut man was talking to as he continued to mumble some things. And then suddenly, he vanished. "I didn't know he was a magician," Grut murmured without stopping. The way the man had disappeared was quite spectacular. "You must have some good holographic projectors installed in this mansion, Harold," he commented with raised eyebrows to the Butler as he went down the staircase. Finding the last step, Grut wondered briefly where the young lady—Brenna, that was it—had ventured off to. He remembered leaving her at the bathroom, but so far she hadn't made her way back down the stairs. Young people just love snooping off without asking.... "So what now, Harold?" Grut turned back to the Butler as he spoke. "Do you have further information to tell us, or can we have a look around?" he asked politely.
Brenna walked briskly downstairs wanting to get as far from the grisly scene as possible.Her mind was whirling with questions and possible scenerios. She looked around for Grut and when she spotted him fairly trotted to his side. Panting a little she let out a long breath " So did you solve the mystery yet? You remind me of the kind of guy that would have it all figured out in about 10 minutes, kinda like Matlock." She looked around, something or someone was missing "did we lose somebody?"
"Sorry to disappoint you madam, but there are many possibilities in this mystery. Unless something obvious happens, it will be hard to pinpoint the murder so quickly," Grut responded sharply to Brenna as she walked up to him. When she asked if someone was missing, he lightened up. "You could say that." He winked. "But I'm sure that the magician is hiding behind the staircase as we speak." Grut looked around as he spoke, seeing that the group had somewhat diminished. Glancing back at the Butler, he stepped forward and offered Brenna his arm. He was tired. "Shall we investigate the nature of the drinks in the lounge area, Ms McKnight?" Grut didn't even crack a smile.
