an early twist in the aforestated unpredictable plot- Part 3

The hallway was wide and expansive. Lined with the portraits of past masters, the hallway was the epitome of understated affluence. There was a sweeping staircase ascending into the higher levels of the house, and underneath this staircase, another less impressive set, led down to the source of the only noise in the house.
Mr Beedle heard the recognisable chinks and thunks of the snooker game and crept that way.
As a child Mr Beedle was described as "a highly systematic monomaniac" in one satirical school report written by a harassed teacher who had fast hardened into scholastic cynicism, and who was forced to euphemise the misdemeanours of the extremely..."active" set of children he was forced into looking after. the linguistic beauty of the report could be derived from its multi-layered sentences, often sounding verbose to the unenlightened parent, yet making total sense to the nervous Mr Beedle, aware of the certain unfortunate events being glossed over, and who hoped not to be questioned further on this strange verbosity by the parent.
This monomania was making a guest appearance at an inopportune moment, by gliding into the hallway alongside Mr Beedle, who had been single-mindedly approaching every task as the first and last, such as climbing over the wall, check, breaking and entering, check, taking off shoes, check. But now as he approached what he was really there for, the enormity of his actions started sinking in, and Mr Beedle was not one taken kindly to sudden epiphanies. He started sweating all over, his round glasses steamed up, which he then polished with shaking hands, and he even took this key moment to correct his rather confused theological standings, by turning to all the different Gods he could think of one ofter the other, God, Jehovah, Allah Vishnu... all the time his eyes focused on the downward staircase, as if expecting at any moment to see Mr Fry come up.