I think I have found all the clues I need, and it would be nice if we could stop thinking of murder and start thinking of having a romantic picnic by the lake. My dear Mr. Green, with your lovely Mrs. White behind bars it would free us up to explore our, shall we say, options?
I know for a fact that it was Mrs. White who killed Mr. Black. The Yin and the Yang. The ultimate battle between good and evil and all those cliches. I know her weapon of choice was the rope and how fitting, you fraud. Only a rope would be quiet, inconspicuous and hard to trace. Mrs. White is nothing if not smart. Not smarter than me, however.
I know that on the morning of the murder, Mr. Black was taking a quiet respite in the conservatory, admiring his prize orchids. I imagine Mrs. White sauntered in, smelling of cheap perfume and Aquanet and engaged him conversation. Then she quietly took out her rope and did the deed to the poor unsuspecting man. . . after doing the deed, I think she hung him.
I accuse you, Mrs. White, you tramp. You should be ashamed for carrying on the charade with all of us. I am not only hurt, but also a bit arouse...I mean hurt, of course. . . ahrem.
On the other hand, peacocks are known to be stupid birds.