Day 3, 12:18

The group was silent as they descended the marble steps, some anxious as to what awaited them beyond the pearly white door at the bottom, others lost in their own thoughts regarding the circumstances that led them here, Pinkie Pie most of all.

Twilight was killed by one of these ponies. I don’t know which… not yet at least. And when I do find out, I’ll… I’ll…

Pinkie stopped dead in her tracks as that thought dawned on her. What would she do when she discovered the identity of Twilight’s killer? She hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“Pinkie?” Pinkie looked up to see Vinyl waiting for her, the rest of the group already moving into the room beyond the door. “Are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine, let’s just get this over with,” Pinkie assured her, walking ahead before adding in a whisper, “we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Passing through the archway, Pinkie and Vinyl were forced to shield their eyes from the surprisingly intense blast of light. Peeking from behind her hooves, Pinkie began to make out the room they were standing in. They seemed to be in a wide, circular room. The word ‘rotunda’ floated to her mind from somewhere deep in her memories.

What really drew Pinkie’s eyes however, and those of every other pony gathered, was the construct stretching from the centre of the room, near to the edges, giving them all very little room to stand about. It appeared to be a chest high barrier, formed from a rather basic wooden banister. Around this barrier at regular intervals were semi-circular alcoves, directed inwards to the centre of the room that was inaccessible due to the barrier itself. Within each alcove was a small bench, upon which rested a dial of some sort.

Next was the section of floor within each of the alcoves, where a circular glyph carved, emanating an ominous white glow. The final aspect of the room that warranted the gathered ponies attention, were the screens mounted along the wall, one directly behind each alcove. They would have been identical to the one in the dining room, but for one major difference. Rather than displaying a blank or pixilated screen, each screen showed the faces of one of the ponies in the room. Pinkie saw her own smiling face staring back at her from the screen above the door, to the left of that Vinyl’s face was displayed, and to her right was a picture of Twilight, marred by a red X drawn across her face.

“Welcome to the court room,” the Mastermind’s voice greeted, the screen directly opposite Pinkie’s own, coming to life to display the familiar ocean of grayscale noise. “If you would all like to take your designated positions, we can begin.”

“What are these drawings on the ground?” Lightning Dust asked, crouching down beside one and tentatively poking it with an outstretched hoof.

“Those are binding runes,” the Mastermind explained, “Once you step inside it, you will be locked inside until the end of the trial.”

“And if we refuse?” Lightning challenged, standing up and facing the Mastermind’s screen defiantly.

“Then I’ll kill you myself and we can move on without you,” the Mastermind replied casually. Their words achieved the desired effect as the ponies began stepping into the alcoves in front of their own screens in a disgruntled but obedient fashion. “It’s so nice when ponies make things easy for themselves.”

Stepping into her own alcove, Pinkie decided to test what the Mastermind had just said by reaching out with a hoof, only to have it repelled like she was trying to force two positive ends of a magnet together. Once they were all standing ready in their positions, the screens displaying their faces flickered off, leaving only Twilight’s and the Mastermind’s on.

“It would be a shame to leave Twilight out of this just because one of you chose to end her life,” the Mastermind said, in a mock pitying tone. Pinkie gritted her teeth but remained silent. “Now, as you will have no doubt noticed, before each of you is a dial. At any point when you feel enough evidence has been presented, you may turn the dial to whom you believe is the culprit. May I ask Fleur to give us a quick demonstration?”

Fleur looked up, clearly surprised at having been picked out, but obeyed none the less, reaching forward with a hoof and turning the dial in front of her to a random point. As she did the screen behind her flicked to an image of Blueblood. Blueblood himself glaring daggers at Fleur for having made an example of him.

“Thank you,” the Mastermind said, Fleur’s screen returning to blank. “When everypony has voted, or refused to vote as the case may be, the guilty pony will be revealed. If the majority of ponies has voted against them, then justice will be served. If the majority do not vote against them however… Then everypony but the culprit will be executed, and the killer will walk free.”

This sudden revelation sparked a wave of shouts of outrage from many of the ponies gathered.

“You didn’t tell us we were all on the line!” Soarin shouted.

“Would you have come along so willingly otherwise?” the Mastermind asked condescendingly. “This will ensure none of you try to defy me by intentionally voting against somepony other than the culprit.”

“What exactly will happen to the culprit if they’re found guilty?” Pinkie asked, time to cross that bridge.

“They will be punished,” the Mastermind answered simply. “Are there any other questions before we begin?”

“Yeah, I’ve got one,” everypony looked over to Vinyl who was staring up at the Mastermind’s screen. “This room, I noticed something weird about it, I noticed the same thing about the dining room. There are places for sixteen ponies, but there were only ever fifteen of us.”

Indeed now that she had mentioned it, Pinkie hadn’t even realised there were an even number of alcoves and screens, the sixteenth of which was directly opposite her and displayed the Mastermind.

“How astute,” the Mastermind complimented, “however you needn’t worry about it. The answer, I’m sure you’ll find disappointingly simple… I’m a stickler for even numbers. That is all.”

“OCD much?” Vinyl whispered so only Pinkie to her immediate left could hear her. The pair shared a hushed giggle before the Mastermind spoke again.

“If that is all,” they said loudly, as if trying to silence the pair, “then let the first trial begin.”

Trial 1: Twilight Sparkle

“Well,” Trenderhoof said, nervously looking about to see if anybody else was going to start. “I guess we should state the obvious. Twilight Sparkle was killed in her room; she was obviously stabbed to death.”

That I know is wrong. Let’s start from there and see where we can get to.

“Actually that’s not right at all!” Pinkie interrupted, causing Trenderhoof to flinch in surprise.

“How could it not be the case?” he demanded, “she had the knife in her!”

“It does look that way I know,” Pinkie agreed, “but from her symptoms, we figured she must have been poisoned. Nurse Redheart examined the body; she can back me up on this.”

“As an Alicorn, it would have taken more than a mere knife to kill Twilight Sparkle,” Redheart concurred.

“I fail to shee what difference it makesh how she died,” Gizmo chipped in, rolling his eyes, “we all know who killed her, talking about it ish jusht washting time.”

“You have a suspect?” Fleur asked, surprised at Gizmo’s outburst.

“Of coursh I do, it’sh sho obvioush,” he replied, indeed making it sound like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “The one who killed Twilight Shparkle was Prince Blueblood!”

Everyone followed Gizmo’s accusing hoof to see Blueblood rolling his eyes.

“Trust a mindless commoner to reach such a ridiculous conclusion,” he spat, ignoring Gizmo’s shout of annoyance.

“You’ve been getting up in everyponies flanksh shince we got here,” Gizmo continued, “Twilight eshpecially. Hash everypony forgotten what happened yesterday at dinner?”

“He has a good point,” Doughnut Joe agreed, “What were you talking to Twilight about yesterday? I could hear her shouting from the kitchens.”

“That is no one’s business but my own,” Blueblood stated flatly, turning his nose up.

“Give it a rest buddy,” Vinyl said, planting her forehooves on the bench in front of her. “Right now you’re our number one suspect, so unless you’re gonna come out and admit to it, you’d better start giving us some solid proof it wasn’t you.”

“If you must know,” Blueblood said with an aggravated sigh, “yesterday I had asked Twilight to marry me.”

Ha! We got hi… Wait, WHAT?!

“The truth is I have been taken with her for some time,” Blueblood continued, ignoring the wide eyed stares of everypony around him. “But it was only yesterday I found the courage to…”

“Oh give it a rest,” Fleur interrupted, causing Blueblood to shoot her a venomous glare. “The simple truth is, after I reminded you of your actual position in the royal court, you thought you’d be crafty and marry into royalty, thus giving you the authority you craved. You didn’t care about Princess Twilight; she was merely a means to an end.”

“Yeah, then she bitch slapped you like a boss,” Cloudchaser exclaimed, proceeding to laugh her ass off. Blueblood was now seething with anger once more.

“Thish jusht shupportsh my argument,” Gizmo cut in, “he had more motive than any of ush to hate Twilight.”

“Not that I’m arguing with you there,” Braeburn said awkwardly, “but don’t we all have a motive to kill? ‘Cause of this game and all?”

“That’sh why I shaid more motive,” Gizmor repeated, rolling his eyes.

“You seem pretty sure about your assumptions Gizmo,” Fleur commented, “why don’t you walk us through what you think happened.”

“Gladly,” Gizmo said, his voice brimming with confidence. “The way I shee it, Blueblood waited until Twilight was ashleep, forced hish way into her room, and shtabbed her while she shlept.”

That assessment has more holes than a hunk of cheese!

“That couldn’t have happened,” Pinkie cut in, causing Gizmo to frown in confusion.

“Uh, how couldn’t it?” He asked, scratching his head.

“Remember what Trixie told us yesterday, forcing our way through doors will result in punishment,” Pinkie stated, “And she wasn’t asleep when she was attacked as she was lying on top of the covers.”

“Alright then,” Gizmo began disgruntled, “how do you think it happened?”

“Well I believe Twilight invited the killer inside,” Pinkie explained, “I know this because Twilight’s key was in the lock, when normally she leaves it on her dresser. If we assume this is the case, then Twilight could have let the killer in and walked back to her bed and stood at the bottom end. It’s at that point the killer struck.”

“That’s oddly specific,” Soarin commented, “How could you possibly know any of that?”

“The stab wounds were in her back, but also her right side,” Pinkie elaborated, “if she did fall forward onto the bed after being attacked, the killer would needed to have approached from that direction.”

“Is she good or what”? Vinyl said laughing.

“So what you’re sayin’ is Twilight let the killer in,” Braeburn repeated, “heck, I don’t see how it could be Blueblood in that case.”

“It does make it less likely,” Fleur agreed, “but it doesn’t rule any of us out entirely, not yet at least.”

“If we’re just throwin’ out accusations,” Lightning Dust interrupted, “then I think it was Trixie.”

“Me?!” Trixie exclaimed, a snarl forming on her face.

“I heard about your little rivalry with Twilight Sparkle,” Lightning continued, “this would be the perfect opportunity to bump off the competition.”

“You might see life that way, but Trixie does not stoop to such dirty methods,” she countered.

“For what it’s worth,” Coco chipped in quietly, “Trixie and I were there when we discovered the body. From the look on her face when she saw… I don’t believe she had anything to do with it.”

“Oh, we’re basing guilt on looks now? Real professional!” Lightning snapped at Coco, causing her to whimper and sink low to the ground.

“Hey! Lay off her!” Vinyl shouted back.

“Ladies please,” Fleur interrupted before things could escalate, “We need to focus on facts, and stop making baseless accusations. Why don’t we look back at the poison?”

“What makes you so sure poison was used at all?” Doughnut Joe asked, looking to Pinkie, “isn’t it possible she was just suffering from regular blood poisoning, it might not have been part of the murder at all.”

He’s got a point. I have nothing to prove definitively that poison was the method employed.

“Actually,” a voice cut through Pinkie’s thought process, “Trixie believes she has the proof you need.”

Pinkie snapped her head up to see Trixie levitating a sheet a paper in front of everypony, upon it was written what looked like a series of instructions with diagrams alongside them.

“What is that?” Redheart asked, cocking her head to the side.

“Trixie found this blocking Twilight’s toilet,” she began to explain, “it is a recipe page, detailing the process to crafting the very poison Trixie believes was used to coat the blade that killed Twilight Sparkle.”

“Wait, is that why you seemed so interested in the blocked toilet?” Braeburn asked, sounding slightly embarrassed.

“Indeed, Trixie couldn’t rule it out as being unrelated to the case,” Trixie replied triumphantly.

“Doeshn’t thish prove Blueblood ish reshponshible?” Gizmo asked, “shurely with hish fancy upbringing, he’d have learnt to mix potions.”

“Actually it proves the exact opposite,” Fleur said, sounding genuinely disappointed, “as much as I hate to admit it, this piece of evidence proves Blueblood could not have killed Twilight.”

“Really? How?” Trenderhoof asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“It proves nothing!” Blueblood snapped quickly.

“Really Blueblood,” Fleur said shaking her head, “Are you really so proud that you would continue to lie even when it would guarantee your innocence?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Blueblood insisted, fooling no-one.

“Would somepony please explain what’s going on,” Soarin begged.

“The truth is,” Fleur began; clearly relishing the look of fury Blueblood was aiming her way. “Prince Blueblood… is illiterate.”

“You don’t seriously mean…” Redheart began, sounding disbelieving.

“He can’t read?!” Cloudchaser exclaimed, before collapsing in another wave of raucous laughter.

“Indeed,” Fleur confirmed, ignoring the now swearing profusely Blueblood. “I found this out at last year’s Grand Galloping Gala. It makes sense after all, an individual as pompous as Blueblood, why would he ever need to learn something so common when he had dozens of servants at hoof to do it for him?”

“I guess that really does prove it,” Pinkie announced, “Blueblood couldn’t have mixed the poison, and Twilight would never have let him into her room, he couldn’t have killed her.”

“Hey Trixie,” Vinyl began in a pondering tone, “does the recipe for that poison include something called ‘Tartrazine’?”

“Huh?” Trixie replied, thrown off guard for a second before scanning the page. “Why yes, but how did you know that?”

“Well after Nurse Redheart figured out Twilight was poisoned, I headed up to the alchemy lab,” Vinyl explained, fishing the broken remains of the bottle she had found from her saddlebags. “While I was there I found this broken on the floor.”

So that’s what Vinyl was about to show me before we got called to the entrance hall.

“Pass it here,” Trixie requested, Vinyl obliged by levitating it out towards Trixie who accepted it and began examining it.

“Hey Trixie, can I see that after you?” Pinkie asked, receiving a nod of acknowledgement.

“I think it’s safe to assume the poison really was used,” Fleur said, “but that doesn’t bring us any closer to figuring out who mixed it.”

“What about the murder weapon?” Lightning asked, sounding bored, “where did it come from?”

“Oh yeah,” Braeburn exclaimed, suddenly remembering. Rummaging in his saddle bags he pulled out the knife.

“Did you manage to source that as Trixie asked you to?” Trixie asked calmly.

“Well about that,” Braeburn began nervously, “I actually have no clue where this thing came from.”

Trixie slammed her face into the bench in front of her, letting out a small moan that could have been from pain or frustration.

Wait a second, I know that knife…

“Braeburn,” Pinkie began, “could I see that knife?”

“Uh sure,” Braeburn said, relieved to have somepony take the burden from him. “Um, how do I…”

But before he could finish, the knife was wrapped in a pale pink aura and levitated over to Pinkie along with the bottle Trixie had been examining. Pinkie put the bottle to the side for the time being; instead she focused all her attention on the knife.

“This is one of the knives from the kitchen,” she stated matter-of-factly.

“How can you tell?” Redheart asked.

“Vinyl and I were in the kitchens last night, getting a snack,” Pinkie explained, “all the knives have these black handles. But more than that, this is a wavy edge kitchen knife; it’s specifically used for cutting things like tomatoes as teeth allow greater pressure to be exerted on the food, so it’s perfect for cutting through things with tough skin.”

“Now how in the hay do you know all that?” Lightning demanded.

“I work in a bakery,” Pinkie explained, giving a little shrug, “We don’t use vegetables, but you still learn these things.”

“So what’s to say you or Vinyl didn’t take that knife while you were in the kitchen last night?” Doughnut Joe asked.

“Seriously?” Vinyl asked disbelievingly, “you’re gonna accuse Twilight’s closest friend of murdering her?”

“What’s to say neither of us took it is the fact that we were having sandwiches last night, within which there were tomatoes,” Pinkie said, as if this somehow explained everything. When she was instead met with a series of blank stares she chose to elaborate. “We looked for this knife specifically, and couldn’t find it. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but now it’s obvious it had to have been stolen before that.”

“So what exactly are you suggesting?” Cloudchaser asked.

I think I’m starting to get a good idea of who’s responsible for this… but just to be sure, I need to know one last thing.

“Trixie,” Pinkie said, placing her hooves on the bench before her. “That recipe for the poison, did you figure out where it came from?”

“Yes I did,” Trixie answered, “I searched right up until the trial was called to order, and at last I found that it had been torn from a book called ‘The Venomous Enchiridion’”

“What section of the library did you find that book?” Pinkie asked, if she was right, this would be the last bit of evidence required.

“If I recall correctly, it was the Maple section.”

Bingo!

“Thank you Trixie,” Pinkie said quietly, “I think I know who was responsible for this now.”

Everypony in the room stared at her in shock, some gasping, others murmuring, one panicking.

“I guess it makes a kind of sense that a mage, whose special talent revolved around plants, would name the sections in his library after types of trees,” Pinkie began, “However the book you just mentioned wasn’t the only one to come from that section. A book called ‘1001 Popular Zebra Recipes’, a book picked out by the killer…

“Doughnut Joe!”

“What?!” Doughnut Joe exclaimed, his eyes stretching wide in horror.

“Seriously Pinkie, that guy?” Vinyl asked doubtfully.

“Yeah, I didn’t kill anyone, how could you even think that?” Doughnut Joe demanded.

“Care to explain your reasoning Pinkie,” Fleur requested.

“For starters, the murder weapon.” Pinkie held up the kitchen knife before everypony. “This knife clearly came from the kitchen, where Doughnut Joe has been working exclusively.”

“But I was in the kitchen as well,” Coco pointed out.

“That’s right, but you were the one delivering the food to the dining room,” Pinkie reminded her, “So Joe had plenty of time where he was alone in the kitchen to have hidden the knife. On top of that he was searching through the same section of the library where that recipe page was taken from, which he proved by taking a book from that very section.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Joe exclaimed, “Anypony could have taken that knife and page!”

“True, but I don’t think many of us could have made heads or tails of that recipe,” Pinkie proposed. “For anypony who’s never had experience mixing potions and stuff, it would be downright gibberish.”

“Well I’ve never mixed potions before!” Joe argued.

“No, but you are a baker, just like me,” Pinkie pointed out, “I could probably take a good stab at mixing that up, it would just be like following any other recipe, so I know you could too.”

“You’re just assuming!” Joe shouted.

“Next,” Pinkie continued, ignoring Joe’s shouts, “Twilight let the killer in, that means she must have known them, trusted them, and who would she have trusted more than the friendly baker she knew since she was a filly?”

“Exactly, I knew Twilight since she was just a kid, why would I kill her?” He demanded.

“You were desperate,” Pinkie said sadly, “We all are, and desperation can make ponies do crazy things.”

“And don’t forget about the hoof print,” Vinyl chipped in.

“What hoof print?” Trixie asked.

“There was a large plant pot up the hall from Twilight’s room,” Pinkie explained, “it had been knocked over and a hoof print had been made in the soil. It was still standing last night when Vinyl and I went to the kitchen, so whoever knocked it down did so after that and were in too much of a hurry to put it back up.”

“The hoof print itself was too big to big to belong to most ponies in this room,” Vinyl continued, “I’d say the only ponies big enough would be Blueblood, Braeburn and Joe.”

“None of this proves anything!” Joe shouted, slamming his hooves onto the bench, “I didn’t steal that knife, I wasn’t anywhere near Twilight’s room, and I didn’t mix that poison!”

“Yes you did,” Pinkie challenged triumphantly, “and I can prove it!”

The room fell silent, all eyes darted between Pinkie and Doughnut Joe, waiting with baited breath for what Pinkie was about to pull out of her sleeve.

“You’re not wearing your shirt today,” Pinkie said, rather anticlimactically.

“Yeah, so?”

“What if I told you that Coco found a shirt with a bright yellow stain today in the laundry room,” Pinkie continued, “a stain which, try as she might, she could not wash off.”

“Oh yeah,” Coco exclaimed giving a little gasp. “You don’t mean…”

Pinkie lifted the broken bottle so everyone could see it, particularly the remains of its content, coating the inside and staining it yellow.

“You broke the Tartrazine when you were mixing the poison,” Pinkie said, staring Doughnut Joe directly in the eyes, “it spilled on your shirt, so you dumped it in the laundry room before going to make your kill.”

Doughnut Joe was utterly silent, his mouth hung open, his whole body was paralysed.

“Do you deny it?” Pinkie asked.

“I… I…” Joe stammered. It was no good however, the stallion collapsed to his knees, shaking uncontrollably. “I’m so sorry; I just wanted to go home so badly.”

“We all want to go home,” Fleur reminded him, “and Princess Twilight was probably our best asset at achieving that.”

“Dude, how could you do that?!” Soarin demanded, “She trusted you man, and you stabbed her in the back!”

“I KNOW! DON’T YOU THINK I KNOW?!” Joe screamed, tears now streaming down his face. “I kept telling myself, it was for the best, if one of us could get out, if I could get out, I could get help, I could save the others. I didn’t know everypony would have to die for me to go free!”

Vinyl looked over at Pinkie; Pinkie saw the confusion etched in Vinyl’s face. She understood, she didn’t know how she felt either.

“Well, well, well,” The Mastermind’s voice echoed, some ponies jumped, having forgetting their screen had been on the entire time. “It looks like you’ve solved the mystery, about time too. I was about to declare it time to vote before you figured it all out. Oh well, no time like the present eh?”

Pinkie looked down to see the dial in front of her was now glowing.

“It’s voting time!” The Mastermind said gleefully.

“I can’t,” Coco said. Everypony looked to her. “I know what he did was wrong, but I can’t bring myself to sentence him to… whatever you have in store.”

“If you don’t,” Fleur began quietly, “we all pay the price.”

“Listen to your friend,” the Mastermind agreed, “lest you be the one to face execution.”

Pinkie looked down at her dial, then back up to Doughnut Joe where he lay, still sobbing and muttering apologies. She gave one small sigh.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, before turning her dial to Doughnut Joe.

When Doughnut Joe’s face appeared on the screen behind Pinkie, it wasn’t long before others began to follow suit. Soon all but three screens bore his face, one being his own, the second being the one that still showed Twilight’s face, and the final being the Mastermind’s screen.

“Alright, the votes are in,” the mastermind declared. Instantly all the screens blanked, instead only the Mastermind’s screen displaying large cartoonish letters reading ‘GUILTY’. This screen blanked and the ‘GUILTY’ letters moved across to Blueblood’s screen to the immediate right. It continued to travel across the screens, getting faster and faster until the screens resembled a roulette wheel. At last after several agonising seconds of clicking, the ‘GUILTY’ letters began slowing down, getting slower, and slower, before finally stopping completely on the screen behind Doughnut Joe.

A loud fanfare began to play, as mini fireworks and confetti danced across all the screens, however nopony felt like celebrating.

“Well done,” the Mastermind congratulated, “You correctly identified Twilight Sparkle’s killer. And you know what that means. Time for justice… to be served!”

“Wait!” Pinkie called out. She didn’t know what she wanted, but it wasn’t this, it wasn’t to see Twilight’s killer executed at the will of this psychopath.

But it was too late, even as the word left Pinkie’s mouth, the floor beneath Doughnut Joe disappeared, and he plunged into the abyss.

What… What happened to him?

Pinkie was spared wondering, when all at once, all sixteen screens flickered to show the same image. Doughnut Joe lay in a crumpled heap on what looked like a giant duvet. It wasn't until he started moving and Pinkie saw whatever it was sticking to him, that she realised it was dough. Doughnut Joe had been dropped into a giant vat of dough.

Pinkie only had a few seconds to ponder this before she saw something that made her heart stop dead in her chest. Dozens of long mechanical arms began reaching into the vat, each one moving in a rhythmic motion. As soon as they reached into the dough Pinkie realised with new-found horror what they were doing, they were kneading the dough… with Doughnut Joe in it!

Some ponies forced themselves to look away from the screens, but Pinkie was transfixed by it. Even when the arms’ tempo increased and Doughnut Joe was lost amidst the sea of dough, only his muffled, agonising screams to be heard, Pinkie still couldn’t tear her gaze from the screens. Soon the once uniform dough was streaked with red and pink, large chunks of 'Pinkie didn’t want to imagine what' scattered throughout it.

After what felt like an eternity, the arms retracted, and the vat began to tip. The screens zoomed out to show the contents of the vat being poured into a baking tray with little rings indented across it. When the tray was full of the sickening mixture it was then lifted by more arms into what looked like a giant furnace.

Time ticked by slowly, and for a while nothing happened. But eventually the screens flickered off, and the centre of the room opened up, something rising up from the depths. It was a platform, upon which rested a bowl, and inside the bowl were over a dozen surprisingly normal looking doughnuts.

“Doughnuts anypony?” the Mastermind asked before bursting into loud maniacal laughter. Pinkie stared at the bowl, her stomach churning, her head feeling faint.

I didn’t want this…

Author's Notes:

But he seemed so nice... Ah well, just goes to show you, appearances can be deceiving.
Well that's it for chapter 1. If you haven't already figured, each chapter will consist of the lead up, the investigation, and the trial.
I've already encouraged anybody to comment their suspicions, but why don't we make a game of it? If you comment or PM me the correct culprit in the following chapters, I'll give you a shout out in the Author's Notes of the trial part of the chapter.