<div class="floatleft">(https://i.etsystatic.com/8043691/r/il/31a485/467916384/il_570xN.467916384_4yb5.jpg)</div>After making themselves suitable for the present company, the party met in an adjoining parlor and wiled away the hours playing whist and mahjong.  Small, pleasant conversation was the order of the day, and sometime near noon, a delectable but admittedly heavy lunch consisting of steak and kidney pudding was delivered by a servant in clean livery.  A red wine accompanied the meal, a Barbeito from Portugal, and the party ate and drank their fill for what seemed less than an hour.<br/><br/>Then, a most interesting thing happened.<br/><br/>The hotelier, also dressed in livery, entered the room.  He bowed courteously, and then said, in a stiff English accent:<br/><br/>“I beg your pardon, ladies and gentlemen, but all guests are required to remain in their rooms for the time being by order of Scotland Yard.”<br/><br/>He had barely finished that sentence when nearly a dozen armed policemen entered the parlor and quickly searched the party’s rooms.<br/><br/>“Nothing amiss, chief inspector,” reported one of the policemen as he exited the men’s rooms, and then, an “all clear” came from the women’s rooms.  The policemen then quickly exited the rooms, moved down the hallway to another set of rooms, and escaped your notice.<br/><br/>“Right,” the chief inspector said as he reviewed the guestbook, found the set of rooms, and then jotted something down with his ink pen.<br/><br/>“Is there anyone in the present company who was at this hotel last night?” the inspector asked.