Day 7, 13:40

Pinkie and Coco trotted down the stair case in the entrance hall, joining the group of ponies already gathered at the bottom.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Vinyl asked, hobbling over, Pinkie noticed the bandage around her right forehoof.

“I did,” Pinkie replied briefly.

“Are you going to fill me in?” Vinyl asked, sounding almost annoyed.

“Of course,” Pinkie assured her, “When everypony else is moving into the courtroom we’ll lag behind and we can fill each other in.”

No sooner had the words left Pinkie’s mouth than the familiar rumbling sound drew their attention to the sight of the staircase collapsing into the ground, paving the way to the courtroom.

“About time,” Blueblood grumbled, leading the way down the stairs. “Now we can condemn that Pegasus and get on with our pointless day to day routine.”

As the rest followed him, muttering various insults behind his back, Pinkie stayed true to her word and drifted behind with Vinyl. Once they were out of earshot of the others, Pinkie revealed the bottle of Ketamine she had taken from the shelf to use as a visual aid.

“If I’m right,” Pinkie began, “then Soarin is not the killer.”

Day 7, 13:46

Entering the courtroom, Pinkie found it exactly as it had been the first time they had entered. Only now along with Twilight’s screen, Doughnut Joe and Trenderhoof’s screens had their colour stripped from them, a bloody X marring their faces. Some ponies were already standing in their designated alcoves, clearly anxious to get the trial over with. As Vinyl moved off to her position, somepony approached Pinkie from the side. Seeing the flash of blue in her peripherals she turned to see Soarin standing beside her.

“Pinkie, you don’t really believe I killed him do you?” he asked, his eyes pleading. Pinkie hesitated before answering.

“I don’t know what to believe,” she lied.

“I could never kill another pony,” Soarin insisted, looking utterly hopeless.

“A week ago, I didn’t think anypony could take a life,” Pinkie replied, not meeting Soarin’s eye.

Soarin nodded sadly, and walked away from Pinkie towards his own alcove. As Pinkie did likewise, moving over beside Vinyl, the Mastermind’s screen flickered to life.

“I’m glad you have decided to avoid dragging this out with unnecessary questions,” the Mastermind spoke, “it means we can jump straight into the accusations.” Everypony was now in position, looking up at the Mastermind’s screen with utter contempt. “If we are all ready, then I call this trial to order.”

Trial 2: Trenderhoof

“Let’s not waste any more time,” Blueblood began smugly, “the culprit is obviously Soarin.”

“For the last time,” Soarin growled, looking much healthier but still leaning on his bench for support, “I didn’t kill anyone!”

I think he’s telling the truth, and I can prove it. But I’ll wait a moment and see how this plays out.

“For the record's sake,” Fleur began, although she sounded like she was already regretting what she was about to suggest. “Why don’t you walk us through what you think happened?”

“Gladly, if it will put this null argument to rest,” Blueblood replied, clearing his throat. “Soarin and Trenderhoof met up for their morning session of swimming as per usual; however while swimming, Soarin assaulted Trenderhoof, who managed to escape. He chased the victim down the hall to the parlour where he killed him by striking him a blow to the head with the fire poker.”

“That’s already all wrong!” Pinkie interrupted. Blueblood rolled his eyes at this.

“Very well, entertain us by attempting to show us what I said wrong,” he invited confidently.

“Gladly,” Pinkie replied, mocking Blueblood by using his own choice of words. “Your entire tale, fanciful as it may be, does not account for how the room was sealed from the inside.”

“Actually, I’ve thought of a logical reason for that,” Blueblood argued.

“Oh, this should be fun,” Vinyl retorted, Blueblood shot her a glare before continuing.

“Soarin chased him into the room and attacked him,” Blueblood repeated, “he then left the nearly dead Trenderhoof who used his telekinesis to block the door in fear of him returning.”

“Impossible,” Redheart argued.

“How is that impossible?!” Blueblood snapped.

“As a unicorn, you should know full well,” she retorted, “a strike to the skull like that would have disabled Trenderhoof’s magic.” Blueblood grimaced, clearly having overlooked this fact. “That aside, Trenderhoof had been struck a number of times… he was easily dead by the time the last blow was dealt.”

“Well,” Braeburn said, “I guess that’s that theory out the window.”

“Well we examined that door for ages,” Blueblood fumed, “there was no way he could have gotten through it after it had been sealed from the inside!”

“You keep assuming it’s Soarin,” Lightning Dust pointed out, “it could just have easily been a unicorn who could have teleported in. And I think we all know a unicorn who has been very eager to draw attention away from himself.”

“Trixie hates to poke a hole in any theory that suggests Blueblood is the guilty one,” Trixie interrupted, “but if you recall, we can’t teleport here, you saw what happened to… Twilight when she tried it on the first day.”

“I still think it’s Blueblood,” Cloudchaser insisted, “Lightning’s right, he’s been very insistent that it’s Soarin, he must be drawing attention away from himself.”

“No, I believe he’s just stupid,” Fleur argued, ignoring Blueblood’s outraged exclamation. “He couldn’t have been responsible as I was with him at the time the murder must have occurred.”

“So if teleportation is out,” Coco began, “how did the culprit get in?”

“Well Trixie pointed out something earlier,” Fleur indicated, Trixie nodded, taking over what Fleur had begun.

“Trixie discovered the curtains outside the crime scene were very wet,” Trixie informed the ponies gathered. “She proposes, the murderer dried themselves off to avoid leaving any further trail, and left to infiltrate the room from somewhere else.”

“What’s to say the killer was ever wet?” Braeburn asked, “That trail could have been made by Trend alone.”

“Well, there was a lot of water splashed around the edge of the pool,” Pinkie pointed out, “I reckon it could only have been made if two ponies were struggling in the pool itself, specifically while trying to get out of the pool.”

“Oh, sorry, just ignore me,” Braeburn said self-consciously.

“It’s fine Braeburn,” Fleur assured him, “these are the kind of questions we need to be asking.”

“Sho where did the killer enter from if not the door?” Gizmo asked trying to steer the conversation back.

“Trixie could not find any way into the parlour via the adjoining rooms,” Trixie admitted before looking to Fleur. “Did you have any better luck upstairs?”

“Well I couldn’t find a method of entry to the parlour below,” Fleur began, “but I did notice something interesting in the wash room. One of the shower cubicles was covered in black grime.”

Wait, did she just say…

“Fleur, did you say the shower cubicle was covered in ‘black grime’?” Pinkie asked curiously.

“Yes, why? Does that mean something to you?” she asked, confused.

“It does, and it should mean something to you too,” Fleur just stared back at Pinkie blankly. “On our second day here you and I explored the house for secrets we might have missed during our initial search. After what we found I had to get cleaned up, and when I did I left the shower covered in that same black filth.”

“Of course!” Fleur exclaimed, as the truth dawned on her.

“Care to fill us in?” Lightning requested looking confused by Pinkie’s revelation.

“Pinkie had to get washed because she was covered in soot,” Fleur explained, “which she got from climbing through…”

“The secret tunnels connecting the fireplaces!” Pinkie finished.

“This explains so much,” Fleur said excited, “Trenderhoof sealed himself inside the parlour, and the killer dried themselves off and went to one of the other sitting rooms, they then travelled through the chimney to sneak into the parlour where Trenderhoof was waiting.”

“And that explains why all the blows were to the back of his head,” Vinyl added, “Trenderhoof was probably watching the door, figuring the killer would try to come in through there. So when the killer came out the fireplace, he hadn’t seen them. The culprit then took the fire poker as they came out before sneaking up behind Trenderhoof and attacking him.”

“Well that’s all well and good,” Blueblood interrupted, “but none of that proves who the killer was… or that Soarin was not the killer.”

Alright, I think it’s time to play my ace in the hole.

“You’re right, that doesn’t prove his innocence,” Pinkie began, before slamming the medical encyclopaedia, the bottle of water and the bottle of Ketamine onto the bench in front of her for everypony to see. “But these do.”

“Uh, what ish all that?” Gizmo asked, scratching his head, trying to figure it out.

“And how does any of that prove he isn’t undeniably guilty?” Blueblood demanded.

“Allow me to explain,” Pinkie began, noticing the spark of hope in Soarin’s eyes. “Soarin claims that he fell asleep in the changing room beside the pool. Sorry, what he actually said was ‘he must have dozed off’. The simple fact is he doesn’t remember, because that’s one of the effects of Ketamine.”

“Ketamine?” Redheart repeated, surprised.

“What the heck is Ketamine?” Braeburn asked cocking his head.

“It’s a…” Redheart began hesitantly, “well, it’s a date rape drug.”

“Drug?!” Soarin exclaimed, “somepony drugged me!”

“Indeed,” Pinkie confirmed, “and I probably wouldn’t have figured it out, but for the other symptoms associated with ketamine. Impaired motor function, problems breathing, convulsions, vomiting, numbness and loss of coordination. Can anyone deny Soarin has been displaying each of those symptoms since he arrived on the crime scene?”

“How do you know all those symptoms?” Redheart asked curiously, a hint of suspicion in her voice.

“While walking outside, Vinyl and I came across some broken glass;” Pinkie began to explain, “one of the second floor windows had been smashed out.”

“Second floor,” Cloudchaser repeated, “so it was somepony’s bedroom?”

“It could have been the wash room,” Lightning pointed out.

“Actually Cloudchaser is right,” Pinkie cut in, “Vinyl levitated me up to the window and I went inside, it was definitely one of the bedrooms.”

“Who’s was it?” Soarin asked.

“I don’t know… yet,” Pinkie admitted, “there was nothing inside that could identify it. The only thing I found was this medical encyclopaedia hidden in the pillow.” Pinkie held up the book for them all to see. “One page was marked out specifically, and if I flip to that page, you can all see the passage detailing the effects of Ketamine has been circled.”

“I’m sure this all coincidence,” Blueblood insisted, “that could very well have been Soarin’s room and he planted that book there to throw us off the trail and to support his act of ‘falling asleep’.”

“Well actually,” Pinkie began, “just to be on the safe side, I went to the lab and searched for where they keep the Ketamine. The drawer they are stored in is missing a few bottles, however all but one empty slots were covered in dust. I removed one bottle just for comparison, and the slots were identically bare of dust and dirt, so one bottle was definitely taken from the lab recently.”

“Sho how did Shoarin end up shpiked with it?” Gizmo asked.

“It was in his water bottle,” Pinkie said, picking up both bottles in either hoof to show everypony. “Ketamine is colourless and odourless, so Soarin wouldn’t have noticed anything off until he took a drink, but because it’s so fast acting he wouldn’t have been able to do anything. Chances are he passed out beside the pool itself and the killer dragged him into the changing room so Trenderhoof wouldn’t see him.”

“You mean, if he was in the changing room at all,” Braeburn corrected.

“Well I found this water bottle in there,” Pinkie pointed out, “it was still cold at the time so it couldn’t have been in there much more than a few hours.”

“This all seems solid,” Trixie said nodding, only to be interrupted by Blueblood scoffing.

“I still believe he took that bottle from the lab himself,” Blueblood said, causing several ponies to groan in frustration, “This is all part of his plan to throw us off the scent.”

“Look buddy,” Soarin snapped, looking sick to death of Blueblood’s accusations. “Maybe I should be flattered you think I’m some criminal genius, but I’ll be honest, I’m not that smart! I dropped out of school for Celestia’s sake! Flying is all I’m good at! Even if I wanted to kill one of you, I wouldn’t know the first thing about how to go about it. Not that I would, the Wonderbolts are more than just a team of performers and athletes, we’re also one of Equestria’s most elite tactical units, our creed is the protection of all Celestia’s citizens. I joined them because I believe in that creed, so you can accuse me all you want but the simple truth is I would rather die than kill another pony!”

The room was silent, everypony staring at Soarin with a mixture of shock and awe at his sudden outburst. Everypony except Blueblood.

“Inspiring speeches may deceive these lesser ponies,” he said turning his nose up at Soarin, “but unless you actually show me proof that somepony else was the culprit, I will not be swayed.”

That elicited an outburst of shouting from all around the room, almost all directed at Blueblood. Pinkie just tried to block out the noise, desperately trying to think.

It’s not Soarin, I’m sure of that…

“Excuse me…” Coco said quietly, her timid voice drowned out by all the ponies arguing.

But I still can’t figure out who the real culprit is…

“Please, I think I might know…” Coco tried again over the shouting.

Vinyl said Trenderhoof had no other injuries, so that blood had to have come from the culprit…

“Seriously now, I would appreciate it if you would all listen…” Coco said, her voice raising now.

But we can’t conduct full body examinations on everypony here, and even if we could Vinyl’s injury could implicate her. There has to be a way to narrow it down…

“EVERYPONY SHUT THE BUCK UP!” Coco screamed over the noise, silencing everyone instantly and pulling Pinkie out of her own thoughts. “I am trying to present some evidence if you would all shut up and listen to me for five seconds!”

An uncomfortable silence descended over the courtroom, even Blueblood looked shocked at the tiny pony’s outburst and dared not speak up. At last it was Trixie who found the confidence to.

“Our apologies,” she said, sounding serious, “would you like to tell us your opinion?”

“Thank you,” Coco said with a frustrated breath. “I was just trying to say, that while in the lab with Pinkie, I noticed something on the shelf where the Ketamine was stored.”

Everypony remained silence as Coco held out her hoof, as if to show them something.

“I’m not sure how to tell you this kid,” Vinyl began awkwardly, “But you aren’t holding anything.”

“Look closer,” Coco said rolling her eyes. Everypony obeyed, stretching forward as far as the binding runes at their hooves would allow. Straining her eyes, Pinkie could just about make out a few golden strands resting on Coco’s hoof.

“Are those…” Cloudchaser began, receiving a nod from Coco.

“These strands of hair were caught on a loose nail just above the drawer where the Ketamine was kept,” she explained. “I figure the pony who took the bottle got their hair caught.”

That hair… there’s only one pony here with hair that shade of yellow…

“I see,” Pinkie said quietly, leaning back. Everypony looked over to her, the expression on her face giving away the fact she’d reached some conclusion.

“What are you thinking Pinkie?” Fleur asked slowly.

“There’s only one pony in this room in this room who has a mane of that colour,” Pinkie began, “they’re the same pony who lied in the parlour about their alibi, the same pony who killed Trenderhoof…

“Lightning Dust!”

“H..hey!” Lightning stammered. “What the hay Pinkie?! I didn’t do it, how could you even say that?!”

“There are only two ponies here with a blonde mane,” Pinkie began, “And between you and Blueblood, it doesn’t take a genius to tell which of you that hair came from.”

“So my hair was in the lab,” Lightning admitted, trying to brush it aside like it was no big deal. “But what did you mean when you said I lied about my alibi? I was doing cardio in my room like I have for the past few mornings; ask anyone that’s what I do. I never left my room until after I was done at which point I met up with Cloudchaser.”

“True, you didn’t leave your room… through the door,” Pinkie pointed out. “But as a Pegasus you would have no trouble flying outside once you broke your window.”

“Oh, so you’re assuming that room is mine,” Lightning scoffed, “even if it was, then what? I just ran to the pool and attacked Trenderhoof?”

“No,” Pinkie started slowly, “first you had to deal with Soarin, but you had already obtained the necessary tools to do that. So once you arrived at the pool through the door to the grounds and found him unconscious, you dragged him into the changing room before Trenderhoof arrived.”

“Okay, now I know you’re taking the piss!” Lightning exclaimed with a bark of laughter, “If any of that was true, I would have just killed Soarin while he was out of it, no offence dude. I mean, why the heck would I attack Trenderhoof if Soarin was completely defenceless.”

“Because then you wouldn’t have your perfect scapegoat,” Pinkie stated, “leaving Soarin alive gave you the perfect patsy, especially since him being drugged meant that his alibi sounded totally unbelievable later, especially next to yours which you had spent days reinforcing in everypony’s minds so that we wouldn’t question it when you brought it up.”

“I didn’t kill anyone and you’re an idiot for even suggesting it!” Lightning shouted back. “Idiot! Idiot! Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!”

“Uh, is she having a stroke or something?” Vinyl asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

“I was never anywhere near that pool and you can’t prove otherwise!” Lightning exclaimed, slamming her hoof down on the bench, her face contorted with rage and…

Pain? That’s it!

“Actually,” Pinkie responded calmly, “I can.”

Lightning backed up slightly, her eye twitching, now struggling to hide her panic.

“You see, at the pool we found a lot of water splashed up over the edge,” Pinkie explained, “but the water was an odd shade of pink, you know why? Because blood had been mixed in it.”

“So?” Lightning spat back, “it was probably Trenderhoofs.”

“It couldn’t have been,” Redheart chipped in. “He didn’t have a single wound on him beyond the one that killed him.”

“So the blood must have come from the murderer,” Vinyl finished.

“Well there you have it,” Lightning said triumphantly. “Look all you want, you won’t find a cut on me.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Pinkie agreed, getting a few surprised looks from the other ponies in the room. “Because that blood didn’t come from a cut… it came from your nose.”

Lightning’s eye twitched again, more noticeably this time, panic and fear clear on her face.

“You tried to drown Trenderhoof I assume,” Pinkie continued. “But he reacted the same way one would if they were attacked by a shark… he kicked you in the nose, breaking it before fleeing.”

“How… how could you possibly…” Lightning tried to say, but her voice was now hoarse and barely audible.

“When we opened the door to the parlour,” Pinkie explained, “we smelt the body. You had a particularly extreme reaction when you sniffed. At first I assumed it was out of revulsion, which surprised me because the smell wasn’t that bad at that stage, now I know, it was due to the pain in your muzzle. You just had the same pained reaction when you twisted your face at me.”

“I…” Lightning began, her voice trailing off.

“Once you washed the blood away,” Pinkie finished, “nopony would have known as any bruising would have been hidden by your coat.”

Everypony stared at Lightning, whose mouth opened and closed several more times, before at last her body sagged and she hung her head.

“I did it.”

“Lightning...” Cloudchaser began, shaking her head as if trying to deny it.

“Why?” Braeburn whispered, a confused look plastered over his face.

“I guess… I never did believe in that creed,” she said after a long pause, looking up at Soarin. “But then that’s why I got kicked out of the academy, I only ever looked out for myself, even when it meant sacrificing ponies I’d come to like.” She briefly glanced at Braeburn before looking away in shame once more. “Go ahead and vote,” Lightning said, sounding utterly defeated. “Whatever that psycho’s got in store… I deserve it.”

“Thanks for the perfect transition Dusty,” the Mastermind said, sounding gleeful at the prospect of another impending execution. “Any last words?”

“Yeah actually,” Lightning replied, sounding slightly more determined. She stood up straight, looking Pinkie dead in the eye. “You’re pretty clever Pinkie; I know if anypony can beat this creep and get everypony out of here, it’s you.”

Pinkie nodded stoically.

She’s not a bad pony… just desperate… just like the rest of us.

“How touching,” the Mastermind said in a mock choked up voice, adding a little sniff for dramatic effect, all before switching right back to sadistically excited. “Oh well, can’t mourn forever. Let’s just move straight on to the main event, everypony place your votes!”

There was less hesitation this time around, most ponies turning their dials and bringing Lightning’s face up on the screen behind them without a second thought. Some took a few more seconds, like Pinkie who took one last breath before reluctantly turning her dial. Soon every screen besides the deceased and the Mastermind’s displayed Lightning’s face, even the one directly behind Lightning. No sooner had all the votes been cast than the screens reverted to black, the ‘GUILTY’ screen appearing directly opposite Pinkie, beginning its initial slow cycle around the room, gathering speed as it went until the letters were no more than a blur.

In the end it came as a surprise to nopony when the letters finally slowed before finally coming to a stop right behind Lightning Dust, instigating the same celebratory noises that accompanied Doughnut Joe’s conviction.

“Was there ever any doubt?” the Mastermind said. “Lightning Dust murdered Trenderhoof, and now it is time for her… to face her shocking fate!”

Pinkie looked away as the floor disappeared beneath Lightning’s hooves and she was dropped into oblivion. But Pinkie couldn’t escape the noises of all the screens coming to life. Obeying a sick sense of curiosity, Pinkie allowed herself to look up at the screen opposite her.

Lightning Dust had clearly tried to slow her descent using her wings, but whether it was due to the shock of the fall or the acceptance of her fate, she hadn’t done a very good job of it, and now lay upon a white floor, her limbs twisted out beneath her. As she shifted around in obvious agony, Pinkie saw that the surface she was lying on was some kind of white powder; it looked almost like very pale sand.

They all stared in confusion at the screen, wondering what sick punishment the Mastermind had devised, when the screens began zooming out until something was visible over Lightning’s head. It was a thick sheet, of rumbling black clouds.

A beep signalled Pinkie to look down at her hoof computer which was now displaying a screen.

Vetrification: the process in nature where glass structures known as Fulgurite are formed when lightning strikes quartz sand, or silica.

Pinkie took all this in, the gears in her mind working double time trying to figure out what it meant, only to have her attention dragged back to the screen when a clap of thunder sounded out followed by screams.

Lightning Dust lay writhing in the silica, screaming in agony, but the most horrifying part was her right forehoof, the leg of which was blackened and charred, but the hoof was encased in some bizarre branching root like structure in varying degrees of transparency and shades of dark colours.

Some of the ponies in the room gasped, some like Cloudchaser, looking away from the screens altogether. But Pinkie found she couldn’t tear her gaze away, it was as if her eyes were glued to the screen in front of her. However Lightning didn’t lie there for much longer, as all at once bolt after bolt of lightning came careening down, striking her body and the sand all around her, which shot up all over her, petrifying in a split second.

Before long the screams ceased, and shortly after that the thunder also silenced. Lightning’s body was completely obscured smoke and sand swirling around, disturbed by the storm. Then the screens all switched off, and the floor in the centre of the room opened up once more.

Pinkie recoiled, terrified of what was going to ascend this time. The platform rose up, but there was no platter of disturbing delectables this time, instead what looked like a sculpture dominated the centre of the room.

The feature looked crystalline, countless shards branching off in all directions. Some sections were a cloudy green or black colour, but most of it was clear as a window pane, and inside for all to see, was the charred corpse of Lightning Dust, her body twisted in agony, her mouth stretched wide in a permanent scream.

“I don’t think the looks on your faces will ever get old,” the Mastermind said before breaking out into mad laughter again. Pinkie turned her eyes away from the glass prison.

If anyone can beat this creep… it’s not me… We’ll do it together.

Author's Notes:

Congratulations to ClickClackTheBrony for correctly guessing the culprit as well as pretty much the entire murder method (even pointing out a few clever points that I hadn't thought of) and Chloewhatwatt for correctly guessing the culprit. Some other readers were correct in their comments about Soarin being drugged but I would only have given a shoutout for that alone if nobody had got the identity of the killer.
Thanks to everyone who read and/or participated, I hope the next chapter will keep you all intrigued.