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Sir Lawrence looked around in shock at the whole situation. It was all very strange... so this must be the reason why they were all brought to this remote island... He then stared at Armstrong in shock, "So you think this is a joke, do you?... It sure didn't sound like one..."

Marston couldn't have cared less about the morbid little nursery rhyme or the tacky statues, but when the voice came on, revealing the secret Marston had held for years, he almost panicked completely.

"What the hell is going on here?" he demanded. "Who thinks they have the right to do this to me?"

Armstrong looked around again. All the guests were reacting very seriously to the message, so it was likely that the contents of the recording were all true - as he knew they were about him, at least.
Despite the shock, one odd fact remained unexplained, and did not escape his sharp mind. By the end of the message, every single person present in the room was mentioned, even the housekeepers Mr. and Mrs. Rogers, with but one exception. The man who had introduced himself earlier as Mr. Davis. Armstrong firmly walked up to him and asked in a serious tone: "What do you make of all this... Davis?"

(I know, oops... sorry! I am so out of it right now...)
He then stared at Mr. Davis, who had his own way of dealing with the accusation... "Mr Davis... I am quite curious to a certain subject that has just come to me... on the intercom, they spoke of a man named William Blore, who I know to be a very famous cop and detective... but no one here goes by the name of William Blore... and the recording said nothing about a Mr. Davis... is there a reason for this?"

Suddenly there is a loud scream heard from the kitchen and then a loud noise. Mrs. Rogers has fainted and is out quite cold.

Vera's pleading caught Dr. Armstrong's attention. Although still uneasy, he understood that it was his duty as the medical professional among the group, and so he quickly made his way to the kitchen, briefcase at hand, in order to assist Mrs. Rogers.

Lombard listened to the disembodied voice that came over the speaker at first with confusion, and then with wonder as it listed murders committed by each person in the house. His jaw clenched as his own name was read. In that situation, there wasn't anything else he could have done. Looking back on it, it did seem an awfully cowardly deed, to leave so many people to their fate in order to save his own life, but he couldn't change that now. He watched the others react, noting that he could now put names to the faces of all those around him based on when they reacted. He held his own drink a bit tighter when Miss Claythorne dropped hers, as if that might change the fact that there was now wine staining her dress and the carpet.

Lombard didn't understand, however, why some were acting afraid of everyone else. They were still on the same footing as before; it was just that now, they all knew a little bit more about each other than anyone had wanted to share. Lombard glanced at Miss Claythorne and saw that she was shivering. Immediately, he removed his coat and was about to drape it over her shoulders when a scream and a crash were heard in the kitchen. He, Miss Claythorne, and two others whom he could now identify as Wargrave and Dr. Armsrtong quickly made their way into the kitchen to see what could be done for Mrs. Rogers.

Dr. Armstrong approached and kneeled beside Mrs. Rogers. He instinctively felt her pulse, and she was quite cold. He quickly pulled from the interior of his medical case a small flask containing a yellow-coloured liquid, presumably ammonia. He placed it under Mrs. Rogers' nose, and as she took another deep breath, her consciousness returned. She slowly opened her eyes.

Mrs. Rogers' eyes opened wide as she smelled the strong scent of ammonia. She saw Sir Lawrence, Lombard, Vera, Davis, and Armstrong. She sighed to herself, they all knew that she had fainted... She looked up quite innocently at them all, not knowing what to say or do at this moment.