Day 13, 15:23

“Hey Pinkie,” Vinyl whispered as the pair caught up with the others in the entrance hall. “When we head down, can you get the Mastermind talking? I just need a little time to check that room before the trial starts.”

“Of course,” Pinkie assured her.

No sooner had she said so than the familiar rumbling began as the stairs began shifting down, coughing up their usual cloud of dust. Wordlessly, Trixie led the way downstairs, followed closely by Fleur, Redheart and Soarin, who still carried Cloudchaser on his back. Pinkie and Vinyl descended together, both their eyes navigating the bare stretch of wall between the foot of the stairs and the door to the courtroom.

“Don’t take too long,” Pinkie said hurriedly, “we don’t want the Mastermind knowing what you’re up to.”

Vinyl nodded just before Pinkie trotted ahead, entering the courtroom where the others were already taking their places, Soarin helping Cloudchaser into an armchair that had been delivered as promised. Looking to the screens Pinkie saw that Braeburn and Gizmo had both now joined the ranks of grey faces with bloody X’s drawn across them.

“Are we all ready to begin?” the Mastermind asked when Cloudchaser was seated and Soarin moved to his own position.

“Not quite,” Pinkie announced, drawing surprised looks. “I don’t know about everypony else here, but I’m not about to start investigating a murder which you helped to rig.”

“You think I partook in this one?” the Mastermind asked, sounding insulted… or at least trying to sound insulted.

“I just want your assurance you haven’t been playing dirty,” Pinkie replied.

“I assure you,” the Mastermind began, “I played no role in this case, after all what fun would there be in that?”

Well at least I had the right idea.

“Because I’m sure Coco’s murder was so dull for you,” Pinkie continued in a bitter tone as Vinyl scurried back into the room.

“You’re right, I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t a particularly fun case,” the Mastermind admitted. “Now if your friend is done snooping around, maybe we can begin this trial.”

Pinkie froze, her eyes briefly flickering across to Vinyl, who was biting her lip in frustration.

I guess it was too much to expect that to go unnoticed. Hopefully she found something out at least.

Without another word, Pinkie marched forward, taking her position, the runes at her hooves glowing, locking her in.

“Good,” the Mastermind declared, sounding content. “Now, I call this trial to order.”

Trial 4: Braeburn & Gizmo

“My, my,” the Mastermind began slowly. “You have been a busy bunch, not just one but two bodies. I must say, your capacity to kill your fellow ponies is outstanding.”

“Said the pot to the kettle,” Cloudchaser muttered.

“Ignore him,” Trixie stated. “Let’s just solve this… er, these murders and get out of here.”

Trixie referred to the Mastermind as a male again, does she still think it’s Orchid?

“Well I still think we should humour the idea that this is nothing more than a stupid accident,” Vinyl offered. “Gizmo killed Braeburn, that we can agree on. But then somepony accidently killed him by lighting up those fires.”

“But Vinyl,” Pinkie began, “don’t you remember what Soarin told us? If Braeburn had the matches when he went to the kitchen, then somepony involved in his murder had to have taken them. I doubt Gizmo would light those fires himself.”

“Maybe he felt guilty,” Vinyl suggested, “or he knew he was going to get caught after basically giving himself away to Cloudchaser, and didn’t want to let the Mastermind kill him in some sick way.”

“That…” Redheart began, “actually sounds quite plausible.”

“See, I’m much more than just a pretty face,” Vinyl said grinning.

“But remember,” Pinkie cut in, “Braeburn was on the table at the time. He wasn’t restrained, so somepony else had to have been involved.”

“Actually, I think I’ve got that one figured out,” Vinyl countered, sounding pleased with herself. “Gizmo knocked Braeburn unconscious before releasing the chandelier. His body was crushed, so we couldn’t examine it, but it would explain how Gizmo got him to stay on the table while he dropped the chandelier.”

Damn, Vinyl’s put a lot of thought into this, and it does sound pretty plausible.

“That’s something that’s been bugging me,” Fleur said thoughtfully. “How did Gizmo release the chandelier at all?”

“Obviously he used the tool box,” Trixie answered.

“No, what I mean is how did he get up that high to unscrew it?” Fleur asked. “You did say it had been unscrewed didn’t you?”

“That’s right,” Trixie confirmed.

“That is a good point,” Soarin chipped in, “I mean he couldn’t have flown or used magic.”

But maybe the other killer could…

“Why don’t we come back to that one,” Pinkie suggested.

“What I want to know is how he got the toolbox to begin with?” Redheart pointed out. “Wasn’t Braeburn keeping it in his room?”

The missing room key, of course!

“That’s right!” Pinkie confirmed, “But yesterday, Soarin and I were passing through the second floor and Braeburn was looking for his lost key. He said he had dropped it, but when I found it lying on the ground, he had said he walked to and from the other direction. Gizmo must have stolen it at some point, retrieved the tool box in preparation, and discarded the key in the hall to make it look like it had just been dropped.”

“Ah, well that’s fairly conclusive,” Redheart said, sounding surprised at receiving a complete answer.

“Well what about the fireplaces,” Fleur pointed out, “it’s oddly convenient there was a passage between those to specifically.”

“Not really,” Cloudchaser said with a shrug, “all the fire places are connected to at least one other, and those rooms are adjoining.”

“What about Gizmo’s hoof computer?” Trixie asked, “Did you find anything useful on it?”

“Uh, nothing relevant in the messages,” Vinyl said hesitantly, not technically lying.

“Ugh,” Soarin groaned, “we’re going around in circles!”

“Let’s take it back to the beginning,” Pinkie suggested, “see if we can piece together what we know so far. So Gizmo had to have stolen Braeburn’s room key at some point, it must have been earlier yesterday, as he would definitely have had it when he came down to breakfast. Using the key he stole the tool box. The next day, Soarin and Braeburn spend time bringing wood in and preparing the fires in the games room and the parlour, after which, Braeburn goes to the dining room and kitchen to clear up after breakfast.

“Whilst there, something occurs, leading to Braeburn lying on the table under the chandelier,” Pinkie continued, “during this, Gizmo drops the chandelier using the tools he stole, killing Braeburn. Gizmo flees from the dining room, instead hiding in the kitchen for whatever reason, until Cloudchaser stumbles upon him. Panicked he attacks her with a carving knife and continues fleeing outside.”

“That reminds me,” Fleur interjected, looking to Soarin, “did you really not find anything outside?”

“No,” he admitted dismayed, “that blood trail didn’t lead any further than the door, there was no way of telling which way he went.”

Pinkie’s ear pricked up at that, a familiar sense of something important bugging her, something she couldn’t place.

“Surely he had to have gone to one of the other two doors,” Trixie stated, “as he most likely went straight to the fire place to dispose of the evidence.”

So when exactly were the fires lit? They were alight when Fleur and Redheart took Cloudchaser to the parlour, which means somepony must have left while we were tending to Cloudchaser to light them.

“I’ve got it!” Soarin declared, wrenching Pinkie from her thoughts. “I think I know how Gizmo brought the chandelier down!”

“Well don’t keep us in suspense,” Redheart said, gesturing for him to carry on.

“Obviously the chandelier was too high in the dining room for an earth pony to unscrew it unaided,” Soarin explained, “but what if he didn’t unscrew it from dining room.”

“What do you…” Vinyl began confused, before being interrupted by Trixie.

“Of course,” she said, sounding annoyed with herself. “He unscrewed it from the floor above.”

“What room’s above the dining room?” Cloudchaser asked.

“Hang on, I’ll check,” Pinkie offered, bringing the map up on her hoof computer.

After a little fiddling about, she was able to jump freely between the first and second floors while remaining in the same geographical area. On the first floor was the dining room, and on the second floor directly above that was a bedroom.

“It’s one of the bedrooms,” Pinkie informed them.

“Gizmo’s no doubt,” Fleur stated.

“Actually it’s not,” Pinkie jumped in. “Vinyl and I went to Gizmo’s room earlier during our search, while there I looked at my map to see if it showed him inside. That was a bust, but I do remember that Gizmo’s room had two other rooms on either side of it. This room above the dining room is at the end of the house, and thus only has one.”

“Then whose room is it?” Redheart asked, “And how did Gizmo get inside?”

“Trixie believes this attests to the possibility of Gizmo working with a partner,” Trixie declared, “one who gave him access to their own room due to its convenient position, and who was able to inform him that Braeburn was in position, as from the floor above, he would have no way of knowing.”

“It could belong to one of the deceased,” Fleur proposed, “whatever happened to their room keys?”

The room fell silent as Fleur’s question registered with them. They had no idea what became of the keys, or even more importantly, the bodies.

“Don’t worry,” the Mastermind interjected, “your friends are quite safe. In fact, once this trial is over I’ll let you visit them.”

Why does that prospect not fill me with joy?

“Um, that aside,” Soarin began awkwardly, “how did this partner even signal Gizmo? We already established there were no messages, maybe there’s something else in his computer we haven’t see…”

“Alright!” Vinyl shouted, throwing her hooves in the air, “I admit it, he was getting off to pictures of Cloudchaser, Fleur and me! Now you know, are you happy?! I swear to Celestia if admitting that doesn’t hold the key to this mystery I’m going to throw myself off the roof!”

The entire courtroom fell deathly silent, everypony looking at Vinyl with wide, shocked stares.

“I… don’t see what difference that makes,” Redheart whispered, a light blush appearing on her cheeks.

“Yeah, me neither,” Soarin mumbled, “probably should have kept that to yourself.”

Pinkie could almost see Vinyl’s eye twitching behind her glasses.

“Hey now,” Pinkie jumped in, sounding falsely cheery, hoping to put a positive spin on this before Vinyl had an aneurysm. “We don’t know that this isn’t important. For all we know... somepony found about this. Yeah! Then they used it as lev…”

Pinkie stopped talking, the single word ‘leverage’ poised on her tongue.

Leverage! Somepony found out about Gizmo’s habit and used it to pull him along on strings.

“I think… Gizmo was being manipulated,” Pinkie announced at last. “Somepony used this as a way of controlling him. They probably masterminded the whole thing, no pun intended, with the intention of killing off Gizmo and making us believe it was a simple accident.”

“Not that we believed that for very long,” Soarin pointed out.

“And let’s not forget the one who started this trial by harping on that it was an accident,” Cloudchaser said narrowing her eyes, looking to her immediate left. “Vinyl!”

“Seriously?” Vinyl said in disbelief, “why the heck would I tell everypony about what Gizmo got up to if I was the killer? And one of the victims no less.”

“It can’t be Vinyl,” Pinkie cut in before Cloudchaser could argue any further. “She, Trixie and I were all together when the murder occurred.”

“Which means the rest of you are unaccounted for,” Trixie pointed out, looking across the assembled ponies.

“Well I saw Redheart shortly before the announcement was made,” Cloudchaser reminded them.

“Yeah and I was talking to Fleur not long before I heard the crash and came running,” Soarin explained.

“But then everypony is accounted for right before the murder,” Fleur said disappointed.

No, not everypony. Redheart and Cloudchaser saw one another before the announcement, but not before the murder which took place a few minutes earlier.

“Well Vinyl,” Soarin said, sounding slightly more upbeat, “I guess that revelation wasn’t for nothing after all. It’s a good thing the computer hadn’t been damaged by smoke or blood.”

“Actually it was just soot,” Vinyl corrected him; “there was no blood on it.”

Actually it was just soot; there was no blood on it.

There was no blood on it.

No blood.

That’s it! That’s what’s been bugging me.

“Redheart,” Pinkie began slowly, Redheart looked up politely. “You said when you arrived on the scene, that you had been passing by the parlour before you heard the announcement. Did you happen to notice if the fire was lit then?”

“Huh? Oh, well I’m not sure,” Redheart admitted, pondering for a moment before brightening up. “Oh yes, they definitely were because I remember seeing them and wondering if we’d be having any more hot chocolate tonight. Why?”

“Because I now know who the murderer is,” Pinkie answered, causing everypony to focus their undivided attention on her. “Because their story doesn’t add up, isn’t that right…

“Cloudchaser!”

“Wait, what?!” Cloudchaser exclaimed from her seat. “Me?!”

“Yeah Pinkie, are you sure?” Soarin asked doubtfully. “She’s the one Gizmo attacked.”

“No, he didn’t,” Pinkie replied sadly, “because Redheart just told us, the fires were already lit before she arrived on the scene. Gizmo was already dead, before Cloudchaser claimed to have been attacked by him.”

“But… Gizmo attacked me!” Cloudchaser insisted, “Are you suggesting that I did this to myself? That I crippled myself?!”

“Yes,” Pinkie answered, swallowing the lump in her throat. “And I know you had the strength to go through with it.”

Cloudchaser just stared at Pinkie, blinking rapidly, trying to suppress the wetness appearing in them.

“The way you spoke yesterday about your sister,” Pinkie continued, “I knew you’d do anything to see her again, it didn’t matter what it cost you or anyone else here. It’s not because you’re a bad pony, you just cared too much about her.”

“I… I didn’t,” Cloudchaser murmured weakly, “you can’t prove I did.”

“The trail of blood in the kitchen led only to you,” Pinkie pointed out, “that amount of blood in the time it took us to run to the kitchen, Gizmo would have to have been covered in it, but he didn’t have a speck on him.”

Cloudchaser didn’t answer, didn’t argue, didn’t defend herself, just stared back at Pinkie as tears welled up in her eyes. Pinkie had no need to continue, her guilt was assured, but she needed to clarify everything.

“It’s your room above the dining room isn’t it?” Pinkie asked. Cloudchaser gave a nod so small it could have been imagined. “And the message you sent Gizmo about ‘hitting the games room’ right before the murder was the signal for him to drop the chandelier. Naturally you had Braeburn on the table, probably offered him a massage since he'd been feeling stressed out."

At least I sincerely hope that was the reason.

Pinkie’s voice was becoming hoarse, she didn’t want to continue, she just wanted this to be over.

“You stole Braeburn’s room key when you hugged him at breakfast yesterday,” Pinkie continued weakly, “you had your hooves inside his jacket. He doesn’t wear saddlebags so that was no doubt where he kept it. You were also the one who asked Soarin and Braeburn to prepare those two fires specifically.”

Pinkie stopped talking, looking briefly at the others. Vinyl’s glasses did a good job of hiding her emotions, but her sagging body gave them away. Soarin and Fleur looked thoroughly downtrodden, while Redheart clutched her head in her hooves, her shoulders occasionally trembling. Only Trixie maintained a perfect expression of apathy, looking pointedly between Pinkie and Cloudchaser.

“Yeah,” Cloudchaser said quietly after a long period of silence. “I guess you got me.”

“Why didn’t you wait?” Vinyl asked, her voice sounding heavy. “We would have got you out of here.”

“I wanted to believe that,” Cloudchaser whispered. “But so many had died already, and it felt like we were getting nowhere. But now it doesn’t matter, you caught me out, and now I never will see Flitter again.”

Tears were now streaming down Cloudchaser’s face. Pinkie clenched her eyes shut, trying desperately not to join in.

I can’t do this! This isn’t right!

“No!” Redheart screamed, looking up, revealing her own tear soaked face. “I won’t vote to have anypony else killed.”

“You have to!” Cloudchaser shouted back. “If you don’t, he’ll just kill you too. Don’t make the same mistake I did, don’t give up! You can still get out of here alive.”

Redheart pounded the bench in front of her in fury, Pinkie felt close to doing the same.

“Just promise me one thing,” Cloudchaser added, sounding hopeless. “If… no, when you get back to Ponyville, please, look after Flitter.”

Redheart nodded, swallowing hard.

“How touching,” the Mastermind said, sounding euphoric at all the misery in the room. “Shame it can’t last forever. I think by now you all know what it’s time for.”

Pinkie saw the dial in front of her begin to glow as she stared down at the bench. Reaching out with a limp hoof, Pinkie turned the dial at an agonisingly slow pace to Cloudchaser. Cloudchaser’s face began to appear on each screen, in some cases following a painfully long wait. Eventually all screens not baring a face of one of the deceased ponies showed Cloudchaser.

Once again the screens went blank and the ‘GUILTY’ screen appeared opposite Pinkie, beginning its rotation around the room. Nopony bothered to pay attention as it began slowing down, stopping behind Cloudchaser to nopony’s surprise, playing its loud celebratory fanfare, even though nopony felt like celebrating this victory.

“Yes, Cloudchaser is indeed the culprit,” the Mastermind announced once the din had did down. “I guess this leaves just one thing to be said. Cloudchaser, you have been found guilty of the murders of Braeburn and Gizmo. You’re going down!”

Pinkie glanced up, just to see the chair and floor vanish beneath Cloudchaser, leaving her to plunge down into the old mine bellow.

After a few torturous minutes, Pinkie heard the screens flick back on, and looked up, dreading what she was about to see.

Every screen around the room displayed the same image, one of Cloudchaser strapped to a similar table as Blueblood. The main difference being that Cloudchaser’s hind legs were spread apart, her tail pinned down, giving a clear view of her genitals. Pinkie cringed, a dark thought as to what was about to happen creeping into her mind.

This was immediately confirmed when the image moved to show a long, nauseatingly sharp and serrated spike positioned with the tip pointing inwards. This was all Pinkie needed to see, so that when the spike, drill thing began moving in, alternating between spinning and sawing, she looking down at her hooves trembling as the buzzing noise persisted. It wasn’t until the screams began that she really became focused on not looking up, barely aware of the tears rolling down her cheeks.

No more… No more!

Author's Notes:

Are you familiar with Occam's Razor?
Yes, sometimes the simplest solution is in fact the correct one.
Now congratulations are in order. Firstly, Smoker correctly guessed the culprit, realising Cloudchaser's wound must have been self inflicted. Next, Chloewhatwatt and Procrastinating Sidewalk also correctly guessed the culprit. Finally ClickClackTheBrony also guessed the culprit, as well as figuring out most of the method used.
Also I'd like to give a special shout out to Doppler Effect, despite not being correct in their final accusation, I was incredibly impressed by their own theory behind this murder, I'm almost envious I hadn't thought of it first.
I was very disappointed with how short the last two parts have been (for goodness sake these AN are almost as long), but I just couldn't flesh this chapter out much without over-padding it with obvious filler. However I can promise you all that the next (and final) chapter will not suffer from this problem.