text: [Themes: Mystery, sea, mystery]
  
  > go downward
  You stand on the deck of the boat, just to port of the aft
  stateroom. Its roof curves across the boat, and a ladder leads to the roof and then to the flying bridge. Beside the ladder, windows open into the stateroom. To starboard is the rail, standing sentinel between you and the cerulean water. The boat runs beneath your feet from the north to the southeast.
  Ashleigh is briskly walking through here.
  
  Carl arrives from the north.
  
  Ashleigh leaves to the southeast.
  
  > go south
  You can't go that way.
  
  Carl leaves to the southeast.
  
  > go to the south-east
  boat. A large access panel in the deck allows for any necessary engine maintenance. On the stern, a flagstaff juts skyward, the stern light perched atop it like a squat bird. The door leading down into the aft stateroom yawns widely. Small windows flank the door. Tied to a cleat on the port side is a line. To the northeast and northwest is the remainder of the boat.
  Lying on the deck is Thom's body.
  Bill slumps here quietly.
  Ashleigh stands almost motionless, constantly glancing at Thom's
  body.
  Carl stands here, hands in his pockets.
  
  Carl glances at poor Thom and shakes his head. "Poor bastard," he whispers.
  
  Bill glances nervously at everyone. "Uh, what now?"
  
  Ashleigh laughs sourly. "We sail back into port."
  
  You nod in agreement, then say, "Who'll pilot the boat?"
  
  After a few seconds of silence, Carl speaks up. "That would be me. I'll run back to the flying bridge."
  
  > search the body
  As disgusting as it is, you riffle through Thom's pockets. Nothing.
  
  Carl leaves to the northwest.
  
  Ashleigh shakes her head. "Nothing to do but go back to the fo'cle and wait."
  
  > look at the body
  No matter how often you hated Thom for one thing or another, you certainly didn't want to see him dead like this. His face is a strange purple color. Along one side of his head, just under his wet hair, is a nasty bruise, slowly darkening. One of his hands is clenched tight, tight enough to drive his fingernails into his palm. Looped complexly around his leg is a length of line.
  
  Bill leaves to the northwest.
  
  Ashleigh leaves to the northwest.
  
  > Go northwest
  You stand on the deck of the boat, just to port of the aft
  stateroom. Its roof curves across the boat, and a ladder leads to the roof and then to the flying bridge. Beside the ladder, windows open into the stateroom. To starboard is the rail, standing sentinel between you and the cerulean water. The boat runs beneath your feet from the north to the southeast.
  Bill stands here, slouching his way from one part of the boat to another.
  Ashleigh is briskly walking through here.
  
  Bill leaves to the north.
  
  Ashleigh leaves to the north.
  
  > go north
  The flying bridge rises above you, its canopy rippling slightly in
  the wind. To the east, an open door flanked by windows leads into the forecastle. To the northeast you can see the foredeck; to the south are the aft sections of the boat.
  Bill stands here, slouching his way from one part of the boat to another.
  Ashleigh is briskly walking through here.
  
  Bill leaves to the east.
  
  Ashleigh leaves to the east.
  
  > Go east
  The forecastle of the boat is surprisingly comfortable despite its small size. The helm controls, including the wheel, are mounted on the fore wall, next to a chest-of-drawers which sports a lamp. Across from the chest and beside the west entrance is the galley; between the galley and the helm is a companionway to the fore stateroom. Also on the port wall, aft of the entrance, is a small bar. Across from it is a dinette bench. Windows are at each of the cardinal directions. The west entranceway is open, as is the companionway to the north.
  You see a purse here. Sitting on the small bar is a drink tray.
  Bill slumps here quietly.
  Ashleigh is here, standing casually.
  
  Bill collapses onto the dinette bench.
  
  Ashleigh paces back and forth worriedly, then stops self-consciously. She grimaces to herself.
  
  > look in the purse
  It's closed.
  
  Ashleigh climbs down the ladder and is gone.
  
  > Open purse
  You open the bag, revealing the usual assortment of purse accoutrements...and a gun.
  
  Bill suddenly notices Ash's purse. "Oh," he says, "Ashleigh's purse." He picks it up, sits back down, changes his mind, starts down the ladder to the fore stateroom, changes his mind again, and collapses on the dinette bench once more.
  
  > examine Bill
  Bill Leveritt has been Thom's partner in their architectural firm for as long as you've known Thom. Bill's thatch of thinning gray hair and round glasses make him look older than his forty-two years. He tries to dress flamboyantly but often fails, as demonstrated today by his long-sleeved blue oxford shirt. He's extremely good at what he does, but he is very unassuming; Thom is the talker of the firm. In one hand he is holding one of his ubiquitous glasses of whiskey.
  
  > wait
  Time passes...
  
  Ashleigh arrives, climbing up the ladder.
  
  > wait a while
  Time passes...
  
  Bill hands Ash's purse to her. "Here," he says, "you dropped this."
  
  Ashleigh turns an odd shade of red: you can't tell if she's embarassed, mad, or worried. "Thanks," she finally says.
  
  > ask Ashleigh about the purse
  Ashleigh says, "I don't know much about that."
  
  Carl arrives from the west.
  
  > Wait
  Time passes...
  
  Ashleigh looks up at Carl, sensing that something's wrong. "What's up?" she asks Carl.
  
  He runs his hands distractedly through his curly hair. "Ok," he finally says. "Here's what we've got going on. Someone's sabotaged the engines, and I don't think I can fix them. I'll get on the radio and get someone here to help us. Until that happens, though, we're stuck."
  
  "Great!" Bill says. "Just great! We're stuck on Thom's rotten boat with Thom's rotten body and one of us killed him!" He downs his whiskey in one gulp as he jumps to his feet.
  
  > Wait
  Time passes...
  
  With a disgusted shake of his head, Carl moves to the radio and begins calling for help.
  
  Ashleigh, on the other hand, watches Bill for a few seconds before moving to him and slapping him for all she's worth. Bill stops completely: he has no idea how to react.
  
  "Listen here, you pompous ass," Ash hisses at him, "none of us are particularly happy right now. But you're not helping. Stop it."
  
  After a long few seconds of staring, Bill turns and pours himself another whiskey.
  
  > Wait
  Time passes...
  
  Bill leaves to the west.
  
  Carl turns from the radio. "Way to tell him," he says softly to Ashleigh, glancing at you as if to see if you agree. Ashleigh, however, grimaces.
  
  "I didn't mean to yell at him like that. It's just...I mean..." Her sentence trails off.
  
  Carl looks at her for almost half a minute, doubt showing on his face. Finally, "I think I'll go check the engines. Gives me something to do, anyway."
  
  > wait
  Time passes...
  
  Carl leaves to the west.
  
  > Go southeast
  boat. A large access panel in the deck has been opened for access to the engines. On the stern, a flagstaff juts skyward, the stern light perched atop it like a squat bird. The door leading down into the aft stateroom yawns widely. Small windows flank the door. Tied to a cleat on the port side is a line. To the northeast and northwest is the remainder of the boat.
  Lying on the deck is Thom's body. Discarded on the deck, against
  one edge of the boat, is a bent screwdriver.
  Carl is peering in the engines, pondering possibilities.
  
  > get the screwdriver
  Taken.
  
  Bill arrives, climbing up the ladder.
  
  > look
  boat. A large access panel in the deck has been opened for access to the engines. On the stern, a flagstaff juts skyward, the stern light perched atop it like a squat bird. The door leading down into the aft stateroom yawns widely. Small windows flank the door. Tied to a cleat on the port side is a line. To the northeast and northwest is the remainder of the boat.
  Lying on the deck is Thom's body.
  Carl is peering in the engines, pondering possibilities.
  Bill slumps here quietly.
  
  Bill leaves to the northeast. As Bill walks away, Carl mutters to you, "What a prick."