|The following is based on Fallout Shelter and some details might contradict canon.|
Ask reginald (the first man you meet) what he was doing the night of murder.
Ask red dress lady what she was doing the night of the murder (second woman you meet part of the third group.)
Ask the woman with the ghoul, the third lady you meet what she was doing at the time of the murder.
Proceed to ask the third group of people you meet after Reginald, the woman with the man next to her in a lab coat: “Turkish blade? You knew Peabody was stabbed to death”?!
Ask Peabody “you’re the only heir?”
Tell Reginald “it was his son, you didn’t need me for that." - You get caps.
Tell Reginald "The Commodore is the murderer." -You get a military circuit board.
Tell Reginald " It was Rod Murphy, the industrialist." You get an assault rifle.
- "Strange, it was sunny before we walked in...
...and now it's dark outside, with rolling thunder in the distance.
- "This “manor” has seen better times..."
- "You just can't get good help these days."
|Opening message||Dweller response||Character response|
|I say, we were beginning to worry! I'm Reginald, the head butler.|
It happened right after the host and guests had retired for the night.
|The game is afoot! Let's proceed!||Okay, but just so you know, we tend to use metric around here.|
|Not so fast. Where were *you* on the night of the murder?||Eating Cram in the boudoir. I still have the tins if you want to see them.|
|Reginald, Reginald... Dutch, is it?||No sir, I don't think so.|
|You can't keep us cooped up in here, you know? We have rights!|
I'm Rod Murphy, rich but vulgar industrialist, and this is my trophy wife Priscilla.
|An industrialist? In this day and age?||We mostly just collect old junk and resell it... but we're very industrious about it!|
|What were you doing when Mr. Peabody was murdered?||Coincidentally enough, trying to find clever ways to murder Mr. Peabody.|
|I had a cat named Priscilla, once.||Don't get any funny ideas! It's bad enough Peabody tried to seduce my wife...|
|Hello! This is Lady Elizabeth Worthington, and I'm her attendant Agatha.|
Alas, the Lady can't hear too well, so you'll have to direct your questions to me.
|How did he ruin her family?||Got her son addicted to Rock-papers-scissors, then sucked him dry by always picking Rock.|
|Was that before or after she was Ghoulified?||Oh, she's not a Ghoul, she's just very, very old.|
|What were you doing at the time of the murder?||Resuscitating Lady Worthington after she tried to nibble on a blueberry scone.|
|Ah, the detective! I am Commodore Tramiel, and this is my niece Vicky.|
So someone finally did old Peabody in, huh? Well, can't say I'm surprised.
|Are you saying you wanted him dead?||I guess it would depend on how much suffering he'd go through first.|
|Turkish blade, huh? Did you know Peabody was stabbed to death?||Sixty-four times, if I recall correctly.|
|What about you, Vicky? Did you see anything?||I'm sorry, my niece has a poor memory. I'm sure she can't recall what happened last night.|
|Hello! I'm Alvin Peabody, sole heir to my father's baseball card fortune.|
I'm afraid I won't be of much help, I have no memory of last night.
|Do you often suffer such memory losses?||Only when I go on a violent rampage, so...every other week, maybe?|
|Did you get along well with your father?||Oh sure! He'd disown me, I'd thrust sharp objects at him... The usual.|
|You're the only heir?||All my siblings met grisly fates, usually when playing by the cliffside.|
|I must say I appreciate your candor.||I'll remember that next time I go on a violent, murderous rampage.|
|So, did you find out who did it?|
Was it the jealous industrialist, or the ruined matriarch?
|It was Rod Murphy, the industrialist.||Not surprised, you can never trust the “nouveau riche.”|
|Lady Worthington's attendant Agatha did it.||Huh. Who knew such a monster hid behind those thick nerdy glasses?|
|The Commodore is the murderer.||I guess it all adds up. Here, Mr. Peabody would have wanted you to have this.|
|It's obviously his son. You didn't need me for that.||Strangely enough, he's the one who sent for you. Guess he didn't think this through.|