The extraordinary events of the last day of Professor Mangleworth
"Taleslinger"
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Suicide In this Holmesian short story, you play as Professor Mangleworth, despondent about the death of your daughter, your little dragonfly. You plan to kill yourself, but your death must not appear as a suicide, or you will bring great shame to your family.
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a retelling of those events based on the finding of Mr. Sherlock Holmes of 221b Baker Street

You are in the western part of your study. Before the library, which has been started by your grandfather Jeremiah, this houses the display case with your findings from your last expedition to the Americas.
You examine the display case
Furnished from dark oak and lined with red velvet, this houses the polished piece of labradorite which you brought back in 1875 and which one and for all disproved Jemmings theory of geoloic expansion.
Long gone are the days when you would take it out and muse at it's significance. After what happened Maura, it all became shallow.
You check what you're carrying
You are carrying:
a bowtie (being worn)
a top hat (being worn)
You remove the bowtie
You take off the bowtie.
You wear the bowtie
You put on the bowtie.
You examine bowtie
It's quite dapper.
You describe your surroundings
You are in the western part of your study. Before the library, which has been started by your grandfather Jeremiah, this houses the display case with your findings from your last expedition to the Americas.
Open case
The key is carried by one of the valets.
Go east
An ornate lead glass window is open to the garden. Through it you can see the cage which houses the thylacine. Beside the window stands another display case. Further to the east is your desk.
You examine the window
Right outside the window is a huge heap of kindling wood, part of your plan.
You look at the thylacine
This one you brought back from Tasmania, after it had howled for hours in one of your traps and you went out to shoot it. It has the body of a wolf and tiger stripes on its haunches.
It looks as unhappy as it did the day you caught it, pacing back and forth powerlessly as if even that activity has become meaningless.
You examine the cage
It's a functional metal cage, its floor covered with hay. A single bar is all that keeps the thylacaine from escaping.
You look at display case
This velvet houses a bismuth crystal. It was given to you by the grandson of Claude François Geoffroy, in recognition of your travels to Antarctica in the early 1860s.
It was in early 1863,  6 months after you left, that Maura was  born. You only received the news on your return to Spitzbergen in 1865. And when you finally returned home, she was already toddling around the living room.
Go east
This mahagoni desk was given to you by your parents on the day you received your doctorate. Many hours were spent here, hours probably better spent elsewhere. It has a single drawer.

On the desk is a jar of silica.

Mounted on the wall above the desk are the bow and arrow, given to you by the people of Melanesia.

A small table stands to one side. On it is a flower pot and a squirt gun.
You look at the squirt gun
It's a small brass squirt gun. Once it was one of Mauras toys, now you use it to SPRAY the flower occasionally.
It has gotten a more sinister use today. You've filled it with the poison of the Pseudonaja, one of Australias deadliest snakes. Once you sprayed yourself with it, you'll be dead within a hearbeat.
You take the gun
Taken.
You examine the silica
It is only half full.
You were frantically working on your categorization of minerals at the time, to be ready for the composium the following month. Your wife had tried time and time again to raise your mind towards the state of Maura's health. You only visited her once in all those weeks, when she was already riddled beyond all earthly hope with that terrible disease. That was the last time you called her your dragonfly. A mildly mocking nickname from her unsteady childhood days. Dragonflies were a bad omen among your ancestors; Surely little Maura was for the valets and maids and the kitchenware. You dropped that jar when your butler informed you of her death, and when it rolled away across the carpet you began to realize how much had been rolling away from you fast, messily spilling its contents, all your days.
You look at the flower
A small flower, added by your wife to make this room less gloomy. You never paid it much mind.
You open the drawer
You open the drawer, revealing a hand guard.
You examine the guard
It's a leather hand guard for archery.
You look at the bow
You never used yourself, but you've seen the chief SHOOT a turtle with this very bow.
Look around
This mahagoni desk was given to you by your parents on the day you received your doctorate. Many hours were spent here, hours probably better spent elsewhere. It has a single drawer.

A small table stands to one side. On it is nothing.
You take the drawer
That seems to be a part of the desk.
You check what you're carrying
You are carrying:
Bow and arrow
a hand guard
a flower pot
a jar of silica
a squirt gun
a bowtie (being worn)
a top hat (being worn)
You spray the flower
You can only do that to something animate.
You wear the guard
You put on the hand guard.
Shoot bar
Taking careful aim, you fire the arrow across the garden and hit the bar dead-on. The arrow shatters into unrecognizable pieces of wood, as you predicted, The door swings open with a slight creak. The thylacine is confused at first - it sniffs the morning air, then takes one tentative step outside. There is shouting from the house. The tasmanian wolf take this as its cuse and dashes across the lawn and into the wood. You break the bow across and stuff it into a heap of kindling below the window.
You examine the cage
It's a functional metal cage, its floor covered with hay.
You check your inventory
You are carrying:
a hand guard (being worn)
a flower pot
a jar of silica
a squirt gun
a bowtie (being worn)
a top hat (being worn)
You examine the case
This velvet houses a bismuth crystal. It was given to you by the grandson of Claude François Geoffroy, in recognition of your travels to Antarctica in the early 1860s.
It was in early 1863,  6 months after you left, that Maura was  born. You only received the news on your return to Spitzbergen in 1865. And when you finally returned home, she was already toddling around the living room.
You remove the hat
You take off the top hat.
You examine the pot
A small flower, added by your wife to make this room less gloomy. You never paid it much mind.
You spray self
You shoot a good dose of the poison straight into your mouth. You'll be dead within seconds now.
Wait
Time passes.

The poison works as quickly as expected. There is little pain.
You have freed the thylacine from a prison far different and yet similar to your own, but this clearly looks like suicide. The shame on your family will be great.
Look around
An ornate lead glass window is open to the garden. Through it you can see the cage which houses the thylacine. Beside the window stands another display case. Further to the east is your desk.
Go east
This mahagoni desk was given to you by your parents on the day you received your doctorate. Many hours were spent here, hours probably better spent elsewhere. It has a single drawer.

A small table stands to one side. On it is nothing.
You open the drawer
That's already open.
You eat the silica
That's plainly inedible.
You check what you're carrying
You are carrying:
a hand guard (being worn)
a flower pot
a jar of silica
a squirt gun
a bowtie (being worn)
a top hat
You remove the guard
You take off the hand guard.
You examine the guard
It's a leather hand guard for archery.
You put the flower on the table
You put the flower pot on small table.
You put the gun on the table
You put the squirt gun on small table.

The poison works as quickly as expected. There is little pain.

"But what made you realize that this was not a heart attack from seeing his famed animal escape, my dear Holmes?"
"I am not yet ready to believe, Watson, that there are people in this world who are more hurt by the escape of a, however, prestigious, animal, then the death of their own daughter. This made me think that mayhaps we gave the Professor too little credit for human emotion in our investigations. The piece of string you idly observe the house cat play with on that heap of kindling was another hint that something was not quite right here; And finally, the sorry stage of this begonia made me investigate the squirt gun and solve this mystery. However, I propose, assuming your complicity, we let this matter rest and not get our good friend Lestrade involved in this. This family has quite suffered enough."
"Will this be a warning to you, my dear friend, to the effect of not letting yourself get too caught up in matters far removed from the world?"
"Some day, dear friend, some day. But first, I have this interesting matter of the giant rat of Sumatra to consider."