Eric handed his passport over the counter and grimaced at John and Graham stood behind him as the check-in girl scanned it and took his only suitcase and rammed it down the conveyor belt. Why did they have to be so rough? He took back his ticket and passport and stepped aside so John and Graham could get checked in. Why Terry had decided to send all three of them to Vegas was beyond him. Surely it would be better for everyone if only one or two went to Vegas on the off chance that that was where Annabel and Palin had gone, and leave everyone else back in Hollywood to man the city?

He shook his head. Terry was the decision maker of the group, and more often than not John argued with him over his decisions, but he had agreed with this one, and Eric had a funny feeling that not everything was being divulged as it should in these situations. The police had been less than helpful but he had seen them talking more and more frequently with Terry than anyone else in the last few days, and it wouldn’t surprise Eric to find that Terry knew more than he was letting on. And he probably shared it with John because, as his deputy “stressed and bossy git” he’d need all the relevant information. Eric hated that about the group. The fact that information was always kept back from one another and sprung as a surprise right at the last minute. The fact that he was always the last one to know, because he wrote with no one, because he existed as an entity outside of the pairings of Python.

“Eric?” John asked and prodded his scowling companion.

Eric jumped slightly and followed John and Graham over to the waiting area, glancing around the airport, keeping an eye out for the bar.

“Terry’s got the hotel bookings sorted out.” Graham said flicking through a wad of papers he’d removed from his jacket. He glanced at Eric and smiled gently as he handed the papers over for his friend to peruse.

“The Silver Hotel?” Eric asked and laughed at the ridiculousness of Las Vegas, where a gray building could be termed “silver”. “Terry seems to have sorted out quite a lot recently.” Eric said disparagingly and John scoffed.

“Oh Eric, you know how it is with him.”

Eric nodded. “I know how it’s always been John, and I trust the feelings I have, especially when they’re suspicious ones.”

Graham chuckled slightly. “I wonder what the Great Idle has to be suspicious of.”

Eric poked his tongue out and scowled at the papers. “You bunch of bastards, that’s what.”

John laughed heartily at his friend and clapped him on the back. “There’s nothing to worry about Eric. I promise you. You always were more suspicious than trusting, and maybe that’s your downfall? Who knows?”

Graham stood up and disappeared, leaving the two remaining Pythons in silence, and Eric leant back in his chair.

“What’s going on John? Why did Terry send all three of us to Vegas?”

John, who had rested his hands behind his head and shut his eyes, opened one periodically and gave Eric a wary glance.

“There’s some new information that’s come to light on the case, and Terry thought it would be most appropriate to send us. After all, Gilliam is tied to Hollywood right now, and Alison can’t really be moved, or else we’d all be going.”

“What new information?” Eric asked, lowering his voice and staring pointedly at his friend.

John sighed. “I’m not going to be left alone until you know, am I?”

Eric shook his head with a small smile and remained silent, waiting for his friend to confess.

“On an off chance the police looked through the recent registered marriages, you know, after what happened the night he disappeared, with him proposing and everything.” John folded his arms on his stomach. “Anyway, they checked the register and who should be there but Mr and Mrs Michael Palin. They got married alright.”

Eric’s mouth dropped open. “He would never have gotten married to Annabel.”

John nodded. “Well you know that, I know that, everyone who knows Michael knows that. Everyone that counts anyway. But the Police were a lot less worried about his disappearance when they discovered that he’d been married.”

Eric shook his head. “No wonder they don’t seem to be bothered about it. I can’t believe they’d just leave it though, especially with what happened to Alison. They must realise that Annabel is dangerous.”

“Well they seem to have become more lenient since that discovery.” John said, shifting his weight from one leg to the other.

“Which is why Terry sent as many of us as he could out to Vegas,” Eric said, sudden realisation hitting him.

John nodded. “If the Police aren’t going to try to find him, then we must.”

Graham returned at that moment with three glasses and John eyed him suspiciously. “What’s this Gray?”

Graham smiled. “Beers for you two, water for me.”

Eric took the clear glass from the tray and sipped it. It was water all right.

“I can’t believe you don’t trust me.” Graham said with mock disdain.

John scoffed. “With your track record Graham?” He took his drink from the tray and handed the other to Eric, who accepted it readily.

“So what’s the plan of attack when we arrive then?” Eric asked as he sipped the alcohol, letting it flow over his tongue and down his throat in a relaxed and comfortingly familiar way.

John shrugged. “We have the addresses of several hotels in the area that they could be staying at, but we have to check into ours first.” He took a gulp of his pint and sighed. “I suppose the best thing to do would be to check in, drop the bags and then get on with it.”

Graham chuckled gently. “That’s if we don’t drop dead from exhaustion in the mean time,” he said, and the trio smiled at each other, before they heard a tannoy announcement, and, leaving their drinks, headed towards their boarding gate.

**********************************************************************************************************

The police had the building surrounded, the gun team’s ready, and the dogs straining at the leashes. The road was pretty quiet due to blockades that some of the local policemen had put into place, and the only real sounds in the neighbourhood were ones of screaming sirens in the distance, along with engines from the blocks in the near vicinity.

FBI Agent Sam Nelson pressed the gun against the palm of her hand and shifted quietly in her bullet proof vest. She felt a kind of excited nervousness whenever she had to break into somewhere, risking the life of herself and the officers under her command. She didn’t know how this one would turn out however, and after the phone call they had received, and with Michael Palin being such a huge celebrity at the moment, they couldn’t afford to take any chances with this woman, Annabel Price.

Sam had had all of the current police files on this woman and the case sent straight over to FBI head quarters, and when she had read all of the evidence and statements in her car on the way over to this very hotel, she had been overwhelmed by this love/hate story. This woman seemed demented in her obsession for Michael Palin, and, from what Sam had seen of his picture in the file, she wasn’t surprised.

Michael Palin was certainly attractive, and, from some of the statements made about him, she had every reason to expect him to be a wonderful and loving man.

There was only one thing nagging Sam Nelson as she pulled on her bullet proof vest and that was that there had been no sign of Miss Chelsea Marsh, an integral part of the love triangle. Sam felt unease at the prospect of trying to find Miss Marsh, for the simple fact that it was very possible that Chelsea was now dead, particularly as Annabel seemed completely set on Michael never seeing anyone of his friends again. And as no one had had any contact with Miss Marsh since the last night of the performance at the Hollywood Bowl, the same night that Annabel had knocked Alison Jones unconscious and locked her beneath the stage, it was highly likely that Chelsea had come to the same fate.

She pushed these unhappy thoughts from her mind as she fixed her earpiece and pulled the mouthpiece towards her mouth with a steady hand.

“All units in position?” she whispered and received the various replies she was waiting for.

“Good. On my count, move in.”

She counted down from 5 and with each number counted she spotted her colleagues moving towards the building, some heading around the back of the hotel, some down into the sublevel parking lot, some pointing their weapons from buildings opposite, some from roofs, and some heading towards the main entrance as she was right at that moment.

“On one, move into the building.” Sam said, and motioned for her partner, Kevin Donahue, to keep close beside her.

“One.” She said and the teams moved in, slowly but steadily trickling into the building.

But Sam knew something was wrong as she approached the huge glass revolving doors at the front of the building, and saw that no one was manning the front station.

She slowed as she walked towards the reception desk, and knew in her heart that they were all too late.

Kevin looked at her as the other officers carried out a sweep of the downstairs rooms, and carried on upstairs, and dropped his gun.

“They’re not here are they?” he asked his partner and watched as she shook her head.

“She’s long gone.”

Kevin swiped his gun down in an angry gesticulation. “Dammit!”

“Wait a minute…” Sam said and walked towards the desk, and when she had gotten close enough she felt her blood run cold.

“Kev,” she said and he looked over at her, and saw her pulling on her latex gloves.

“What is it?” he asked as he approached the desk, but didn’t need to ask more. “Who is it?”

Sam looked over the body and saw the phone still in his hand, his balding head flat against the log in book and a newspaper at his feet. She knew that this man was the hotel owner, Ray Silver, and knew that he had been the one who had made the connection between his occupant and the missing man in the paper at his feet.

She pressed her mouth piece to her ear and called for one of her officers to collect Gregory Martin, the Medical Examiner. “Tell him it’s Raymond Silver, the hotel owner, with stab wounds to the neck, back and stomach.” She said and the officer signed off.

Kevin rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand and rested his hands on his hips as three officers relayed their information to him and another Medical Examiner was called.

Sam looked over the mess on the front desk and sighed.

“They’ve found more bodies upstairs.” Kevin said and Sam’s eyes widened a little.

“More?” she almost exclaimed.

“Apparently Annabel couldn’t stop at just the hotel owner. Seems she went a little berserk. They’ve all received similar sort of treatment as Silver here. All stabbed, with wounds in their necks, stomachs and backs. All telephones in the hotel have been wrecked, the bedrooms trashed and there is absolutely no sign of our Mr and Mrs Palin.”

Sam grimaced. “Well I don’t think she started with him then,” she said, motioning to the knife stuck in Silver’s neck.

Kevin nodded agreement. “Do we know it was just Annabel though? Could it have been a joint venture, you know, with Michael as a part of it too?”

Sam slowly shook her head. “I don’t see it’s possible. Nothing about his personality would suggest it, and there’s no evidence in any of the files that he actually wanted to be with this woman. I honestly don’t believe Michael Palin capable.”

Kevin shrugged and watched as the Medical Examiners began arriving. “Well it wouldn’t be the first time a nice, homely sort of man went completely nuts and went on a killing spree with his devoted wife at his side.”

“I know,” Sam said and walked towards the front of the hotel. “But why would Michael wish to leave the success of Monty Python? From what I’ve heard his not wanting to leave Monty Python has cost him relationships and friends, as well as the one woman who really loved him.”

Kevin glanced at his partner and smiled gently. “Hey Nelson, you’re not going soft on me are you?”

She smiled at him and laughed a little. “It just doesn’t make any sense,” she said. “There’s evidence to suggest he never wanted to go with this woman, and that she was becoming somewhat obsessed with him. Just look at what she did to Alison Jones.”

Kevin nodded. “I think I agree with you,” he said, “This certainly looks like the handy work of someone who is extremely unhinged, particularly considering that she felt the need to kill everyone in the hotel in order to escape.”

An officer approached them from the open glass doors. “Sir, Ma’am…we’ve got something in the parking lot for you to look at.”

Kevin and Sam followed the officer into the sublevel parking lot and glanced around as the forensics began spraying and dusting and gathering evidence.

The officer motioned towards a white suited figure and Kevin hollered a greeting.

Georgina Donahue turned around and smiled at her husband and his partner.

“Hi Sam,” she said as they approached and she stood up to full height.

“Hi Georgie, having fun?” Kevin asked and smiled as his Wife poked her tongue out.

“As much fun as you I’m sure,” she said and continued marking out white lines on the concrete floor of the parking lot.

“So what have you got for us Georgie?” Sam asked and crouched down beside her.

Georgina swept the white powdered chalk away and pointed to four dark tyre marks on the road.

“Well someone has left here in quite a hurry.” She said. “I’d say a four-wheel drive, and judging from the distance of the tyre marks from each other, we’re looking at some sort of wagon.”

Kevin rolled his eyes. “Not exactly helpful.” He said and Georgina looked up at him and grimaced.

“Would it be more helpful if I told you we’re looking for a red one with a broken left tail light and left indicator light, with possibly a long scratch along the side, owned by the late Raymond Silver?”

Sam smirked as Kevin was silenced and she clapped him on the back. “I can see why you married him Georgina. He has such faith in you.” She said and laughed.

Georgina rolled her eyes. “Tell me about it.”

“You got anything else down here?” Sam asked.

Georgina motioned towards the elevator in the wall opposite. “There are trail marks throughout the hotel, mainly from one of the rooms down to here. Because the elevator is situated nearer the back entrance of the hotel, no one would have seen anything if someone was dragging something heavy along the corridor.”

“Something heavy?” Kevin asked, “Can you be more specific?”

“Male probably from the size and weight patterns, about 5ft 6 or 5ft 7 from the length of the grooves on the carpets where he’s been stopped, probably for rest, and I could probably get you the weight of him as well, but we’d need to try that out back at the labs with different bundles and similar carpet pile.”

“So we can be pretty certain that it was Michael that was being carried.” Kevin said and Sam nodded.

“Where the trail marks begin, we can be pretty certain that it was him,” Georgina said. “There’s evidence of activity around the bed, but only evidence that one person was mobile. There are considerable prints throughout the blood in the lobby around Silver that we’re taking pictures of, and we’re hoping to match them to the prints in the bathroom of the same hotel room. We’re also taking the bed sheets for analysis and we’ve found some syringes in the trash out the back that we’re taking back too.”

“Do you think she drugged him then?” Sam asked.

“It’s a possibility.” Georgina replied. “It would explain why she would have had to drag him, and it would also explain why she felt the need to kill everyone in the hotel before she took him to the car, and that in turn would explain why she traipsed blood into the bathroom.”

“She didn’t want anyone seeing him.” Kevin said and shook his head. “But I suppose we can’t rule out the possibility of his being dead, which would also explain the drag trails.”

Georgina shook her head. “I don’t believe he’s dead,” she said, “If he was dead then there’d be more evidence of it in the hotel room. There’d be stains and marks on the bed. He’s been missing a good few weeks now, and even if she’d only killed him last night, or this morning, there would be more evidence to suggest it.”

Sam nodded. “I agree. I don’t believe Michael is dead either. She’s too obsessed with being his wife to kill him. To kill him would be of no use to her.”

Kevin folded his arms. “Well that’s it then isn’t it? We have to look for a maniac woman driving a smashed up red wagon belonging to Ray Silver with a stoned or seemingly dead passenger.”

“Excuse me Ma’am,” an officer touched Sam’s arm. “We’ve found something of interest in the lobby.” He looked down at Georgina. “They’re calling for you too Ma’am.”

The quartet made their way back up into the lobby where two forensic analysts were gazing into the pool of blood surrounding Ray Silver.

“What’s up guys?” Sam asked as they approached.

Georgina glanced around and spoke quickly to the two forensics analysts, and Sam followed where they pointed.

“It seems there are two different prints here.” Georgina said and motioned for the partners to come closer.

“Here…that’s the print that we found in the bathroom.” She then turned and pointed to another single print in the blood that varied quite significantly to the others. “That print is alien. There’s no other print like it in any of the other areas we’ve been.”

Sam frowned. “What does that mean?”

Kevin sighed. “An accomplice perhaps?”

Georgina shook her head. “I don’t believe that either. If she had had an accomplice then there would never have been trail marks from her dragging the body to the car. They would have been able to carry him easily between them.”

“What would you suggest then?” Sam asked.

Georgina glanced around. “I don’t know, but until we dust for prints, examine the bodies and go over all the areas in the hotel, I can’t really say anything for certain.”

Sam rolled her eyes and rubbed her head with a forefinger.

“If it’s any use to you I’d say that it was more of a bystander than an accomplice.” Georgina said. “From where the print is, the raised heel print and the position of it in relation to the body, I’d say that the owner of it was looking at the victim, perhaps even checking for life.”

Sam nodded. “So we have a possible witness then?”

Georgina nodded agreement. “That is highly possible.”

Kevin sighed. “Great, just what we needed.” He pushed himself off from the counter and folded his arms. “Another witness that she could have gone off and killed.”

“It’s another lead Kev, we might be able to get some information from this person that could help us track down Annabel and Michael.”

Kevin scowled and shrugged.

Suddenly there was a fracas at the hotel entrance, and an assuming and tall gentleman with dark hair and dark eyes, a scowl on his brow and his fists clenched, pushed past the police officers stationed at the door, and made his way towards the two agents.

“Can I ask what the bloody hell is going on here?” he demanded, as two other gentlemen approached them, tugging off officers from their elbows and bags.

The one on the right of the dark haired one was also tall, blonde haired, and a pipe protruded from his mouth, which was soft and friendly, and Sam noticed the eyes that studied her with interest as he glanced from the dark haired gentleman back to her.

She couldn’t see the gentleman on the left of him for the dark, tall figure now standing in front of her, but she knew he couldn’t be taller than the other two, and saw only wavy blonde brown hair before she was face to face with the intruder.

“Can I ask who you are sir?” she asked and stared directly at the man in front of her. “And why you think it’s suitable for you to enter a crime scene, ignoring all of the officers’ commands and then disturbing possible evidence?”

The dark haired man’s face went red and he clenched and unclenched his fists. “My name, madam, is John Cleese and we,” he motioned to his companions, “have a booking in this hotel.”

Sam leant back on the counter and smiled wryly. “You won’t be staying here sir, this is a murder scene.”

John threw up his hands and moved away from her and the other two gentlemen came into view. As Sam caught sight of the smaller man she felt her heart leap into her throat and her stomach twist, and couldn’t explain such a reaction.

He held out his hand to her and smiled gently. “My name’s Eric Idle. And this is Graham Chapman. We’re terribly sorry for John.” His green eyes were steady on her face and she felt goose bumps run over her skin and a shiver shot down her spine as their hands met.

“I’m Agent Sam Nelson and this is my partner Agent Kevin Donahue.” She said, her voice trembling a little, and Kevin glanced at her warily before turning his attention to the men in front of him.

“You’re members of Monty Python aren’t you?” he asked seriously.

Eric nodded. “Yes. How did you know?”

“We had your files sent over from Hollywood this morning when we got the tip off.” Sam said, and, realising Eric hadn’t let go of her hand, quickly removed it and pushed back a strand of blonde hair from her eyes and into her pony tail.

“Tip off?” Graham asked, startling the two Agents as he had yet to say anything.

“The hotel owner spotted Annabel here earlier today and recognised her from the pictures that have been run in the papers. He phoned us, but we got here too late.”

John made a noise behind them and turned quickly walked towards the glass doors of the hotel lobby.

Sam nodded behind the desk. “The hotel owner.” She said and couldn’t help smiling as Graham craned his neck to see.

“So where are they now then?” Eric asked.

Kevin shrugged. “We’re making enquiries and we have some leads. But one thing’s for sure, you really shouldn’t be here.” He said and motioned for them to head towards the glass doors.

“Can I have your number?” Eric said, and watched as Sam’s face went slightly red.

“I’m sorry?” she asked.

“I mean, so we can get in contact with you and find out what’s going on.”

She felt herself redden even more, as the thought of his asking her out had run clearly across her head before she had even thought about that possibility.

“Of course. Certainly.” She produced her card and handed it to him. “We don’t know if Annabel or Michael have left the area yet, and it would be prudent to keep an eye out for her, particularly if she finds out you’re in the area too.”

“Do you think she might come after us?” Graham asked seriously.

“Who knows?” Sam said. “But it’s better to be safe than sorry. She’s already done enough damage here.”

They nodded and headed towards the glass door with the three men, and it was John who was the last to speak as they were chaperoned into the car that had been called for them.

“I hope Michael is alright.” He said, and Eric patted his shoulder, before they were whisked off to an unknown destination.