Oliver bobbed in place contemplatively. He scrunched up his face as he thought about someone in particular. "Someone has, yeah." he said, as though whoever it was had offended him personally. "Don't think he's the murderer, though. Something is up with the masseuse though, I think. You know, the French girl? I'll keep an eye on things tonight, though. Maybe do a walkaround after everyone's supposed to be in bed, and see who isn't."