Pinkie Pie walked through Ponyville, something was definitely off, but she couldn’t quite put her hoof on it. Maybe it was the fact that the ground, sky and buildings were all grey and pixilated… No they had always been like that. So what was different about today?

“Good morning Pinkie Pie,” Twilight Sparkle said, walking past Pinkie, her nose buried in a book. “Lovely day we’re having.”

“Sure are,” Pinkie agreed happily before remembering her confusion. “But Twilight, does something seem different today?”

“Different?” Twilight repeated, “I’m not sure what you mean Pinkie. Now come on, we don’t want to be late for the picnic.”

The picnic! Of course, Pinkie had almost forgotten as she obsessed over some imagined difference. Not wanting to waste any more time she began galloping out of town towards the outskirt, where she knew her other friends were waiting for them. As she ran, Twilight rushed past her, her wings outstretched. Pinkie picked up the pace, not wanting to be left behind. As they ran, Ponyville dissolved around them to be replaced by a grey hill with a single grey tree atop it, and there sat her friends.

“Good morning everypony,” Twilight greeted, sitting down on the blanket.

“Morning,” Pinkie chipped in, plopping down beside Twilight.

“Ah Pinkie,” Trenderhoof said in his usual upper class façade. “I’ve been meaning to speak to you. I have a new line ready and I would love you to model some of my dresses for me.”

“Sure Trendy, I’d love to,” Pinkie answered happily.

“Care for an apple Pinkie,” Doughnut Joe asked, offering her a basket full of ripe grey apples. “Ah’ve just picked ‘em this mornin’.”

“Yes please,” Pinkie said, laughing at Doughnut Joe’s usual thick country accent before reaching in and taking out an apple.

“Oh Pinkie, you should have been here earlier,” Lightning Dust jumped in. “I was doin’ some flying tricks that would have blown your mind.”

“Aw, that’s sounds awesome,” Pinkie replied. “Will you do them again?”

“I think we should wait,” Twilight suggested. “We’re still waiting on one of our friends remember… Oh, there she is.”

Pinkie looked down the hill at her approaching friend, wrapped in an inferno of writhing flames. Bright orange piercing through the grey.

“Sorry I’m late,” Coco said, smiling despite the flames enveloping her. “It wasn’t the fastest way to go.”

Day 10, 08:15

Pinkie’s eyes snapped open, her whole body springing bolt upright.

“Coco!” she called out, the memories of the previous night flooding back. The message. The Fire. The body. Coco’s body!

Pinkie could smell the faint stench of smoke nearby. Turning her head slowly, dreading what she was about to see, she looked at what appeared to be a burning mound last night. It was now nothing more than a blackened, charred corpse. It was so small, but then Coco never was the biggest of ponies. Pinkie stumbled to her hooves, her breathing becoming rapid, and stumbled over to the body only to collapse down beside it.

“No… No…” she whispered, reaching out to the body with a trembling hoof.

Pinkie’s ears pricked up at the sound of fast approaching hooves on the gravel path. Looking over her shoulder she saw Trixie, Vinyl and Fleur running towards her. Pinkie stood as they began to get near.

“Pinkie, there you are,” Vinyl said as the trio slowed to a walk. “You didn’t show up to breakfast…

“Along with pretty much everypony else,” Trixie chipped in.

“And when we were walking by the main doors we saw the smoke and came to see what was…” Vinyl’s voice died in her mouth as they all got close enough to see what was behind Pinkie.

“Is that…” Trixie began, her eyes widening in shock.

“Oh no,” Fleur said, covering her mouth with a hoof. “Who is it Pinkie?”

“It’s Coco,” Pinkie answered miserably.

“Aw man,” Vinyl muttered, hanging her head.

“I suppose you came to investigate the smoke too,” Fleur said, walking up beside Pinkie and putting a hoof on her shoulder.

“No, I was here when it happened,” Pinkie said without thinking, Fleur’s hoof jumping away instantly. All three mares stared at Pinkie in stunned silence.

“You were here?” Vinyl asked, her sunglasses levitating up to reveal the surprise in her eyes.

“Then what happened?!” Trixie demanded, “Who did this?!”

“I… I don’t know,” Pinkie stammered, suddenly feeling very small under their gazes. “I woke up at like… four in the morning because a message was sent to my hoof computer saying ‘fire’. I looked out my window and saw the flames. So I ran out here, but as soon as I reached the body I was knocked out.”

“Dammit,” Vinyl said, kicking the ground. “It’s never easy.”

“What do you mean you got a message?” Fleur asked, her eyes narrowing for some reason Pinkie didn’t know.

“On my hoof computer,” Pinkie repeated holding out her hoof. “It just said ‘fire’, like it was warning me.”

Fleur glanced at the other two; Trixie was sharing her expression, while Vinyl looked unsure.

“Could you show us this message?” Fleur asked in a cool voice.

“I don’t know how, but why…” Pinkie began, before joining the pieces. “Wait, you think I did this?!”

“We didn’t say that,” Trixie assured her.

“But you do think that don’t you?!” Pinkie accused, backing up slightly.

They suspect me! After everything, they don’t trust me!

“It’s just a precaution,” Fleur tried to assure her, some warmth returning to her voice. “As soon as we see the message we can rule you out and start investigating.”

“But I don’t know how to show you it,” Pinkie repeated, panicking.

“Here, hold out your hoof,” Vinyl said, walking forward. “I know how to drag up old messages.”

Good, Vinyl will find the message and they’ll see I’m telling the truth.

Pinkie held out her hoof, smiling as her friend took it in her own and began fiddling with the computer on Pinkie’s hoof.

“Anything?” Trixie asked after a couple of silent minutes. Vinyl bit her lip.

“There’s nothing here,” she replied simply, backing away from Pinkie, not meeting her eye.

“What?!” Pinkie exclaimed.

But it was there! How could Vinyl not have found it?

“I… don’t know what to tell you,” Vinyl said, still looking at the ground. “But there aren’t any recent messages on that thing, especially none that mention a fire.”

“I see,” Fleur said, her voice becoming icy once more.

“But it’s the truth!” Pinkie insisted, nearly in tears. Then she looked beyond the three mares, and saw the rest of the ponies approaching them.

“It would seem the Mastermind alerted the rest,” Trixie announced, following Pinkie’s gaze.

“Vinyl…” Pinkie said, trying to get her friend to look at her. Instead it only succeeded at making Vinyl more interested in her hooves.

“What’s happened?” Cloudchaser asked as the rest arrived on the scene.

“The Mastermind said there was another body,” Redheart informed them. “If you’re all here, then that must mean…”

“I’m afraid so,” Fleur confirmed. “The victim is Coco Pommel.”

“What?!” Cloudchaser yelled, causing Soarin, Braeburn and Blueblood all to scream out in pain, clutching their skulls.

“Please, not so loud,” Braeburn begged miserably.

“Oh shut up!” Redheart snapped at him. “A pony has just died and all you three care about is your stupid hangovers!”

“Is that true?” Soarin asked, massaging his forehead. “Is Coco dead?”

“I’m afraid so,” Fleur stated, before directing her attention to Redheart. “But she didn’t just die. It happened very early this morning. Pinkie confirmed that for us.”

“What’sh that shupposhed to mean?” Gizmo asked, eyeing Pinkie curiously.

“Pinkie here claims to have been here when the murder took place,” Trixie replied. “She claims she received a message warning her of the fire, a message that has disappeared from her hoof computer.”

“I did!” Pinkie exclaimed, desperation making way for anger now. “I got the message, saw the fire, ran outside through the kitchen door and came straight here, but I got knocked out!”

“The kitchen door?” Redheart queried.

“Uh, yes,” Pinkie confirmed.

“The grounds door in the kitchen area is locked,” Redheart explained, “Cloudchaser, Gizmo and I tried it when we received the announcement.”

“Locked you say?” Trixie repeated. “And there’s only one key that can lock that door.”

“But…” Pinkie began, only to be cut off by Fleur.

“Do you have the master key on you right now?” she asked, all eyes turning to Pinkie.

The key had been in Pinkie’s saddle bags, and Pinkie had brought her saddle bags with her as she left her room.

“It should be in my saddle bag,” Pinkie admitted. “But the one who knocked me out probably took it!”

“Then empty your bags,” Gizmo stated, “simple.”

“Fine,” Pinkie said, trying to hide the fear in her voice. Pulling her saddle bags off her back she set them on the ground, before tipping its contents onto the ground.

From the bag spilled a number of random items that Pinkie had taken to carrying around with her. A Daring Do book for when she had free time, a few packets of crisps in case she got snacky and wasn’t near the kitchen, a scarf she got from Rarity on her last birthday, and…

“Hey!” Braeburn exclaimed, “Those matches.”

Indeed, lying beneath the scarf was the very box of matches Braeburn had found in the shed.

“I don’t know how they got in there!” Pinkie said honestly, but too quickly for anypony to believe her.

“Braeburn,” Fleur began, “weren’t you keeping a hold of these matches?”

“Yeah, but I couldn’t find them this morning,” he explained, picking them up. “I thought I’d lost them.”

“And look,” Trixie pointed out, levitating up the little gold key.

This is bad! This is very bad!

“Please listen to me,” Pinkie begged, “I have no idea how those matches got in my bag.”

“This is looking very bad for you Pinkie,” Fleur stated.

“I know, but I’m telling the truth, doesn’t anypony believe me?” Pinkie looked around the faces. Fleur and Trixie were standing resolutely, Vinyl still refusing to meet her gaze. Redheart and Braeburn were looking unsure, but Gizmo looked fairly convinced.

“I believe her,” two voices said simultaneously. Everypony looked over at Soarin and Blueblood, who were also looking at each other.

“You do?” Fleur asked, before looking specifically to Blueblood. “You both do?”

“You’re right, it looks pretty bad for Pinkie,” Soarin answered, looking back at them all. “But it also looked pretty bad for me when Trenderhoof died. Pinkie didn’t judge me right off the bat; she gave me the chance I needed, so I’ll do the same for her.”

Redheart nodded approvingly and everypony looked to Blueblood, who just shrugged.

“She’s no killer, let’s be honest,” he said simply, “she wouldn’t have the stomach for it.”

The others looked away, not that surprised by Blueblood’s response in the end, but in doing so they didn’t see the small smile he flashed Pinkie. Strained, but genuine.

Always there for you… Wouldn’t turn his back when things got hard…

“Soarin makes a valid point,” Fleur admitted, sounding slightly ashamed of herself. “We shouldn’t pass judgement until we have all the facts.”

“Which means we must begin investigating,” Trixie stated.

“Well we shouldn’t let her walk about on her own,” Gizmo insisted, thrusting a hoof at Pinkie.

“I’m not going to tamper with anything,” Pinkie replied, outraged at the notion.

“If it will make everypony feel better,” Redheart began, “Soarin, could you stay with her? You did vouch for her after all.”

“I can indeed,” Soarin said proudly.

“Alright then, we should get to work,” Fleur announced, “who knows when the Mastermind will choose to call the trial.”

Day 10, 09:00

“Thanks for sticking up for me back there,” Pinkie said to Soarin as the pair walked up the drive to the manor doors.

“It wasn’t fair of them to do that,” he replied sternly, “especially after the other day when they all said you were trustworthy enough to hold onto the master key.”

“Yeah,” Pinkie said forlornly, before remembering something. “How are you doing by the way? About Coco I mean, I know you liked her.”

“Wha… How did you know that?” Soarin asked surprised.

“Last night while you guys were drinking,” Pinkie explained, “you got a little loose lipped.”

“Ah,” Soarin stated simply, sounding embarrassed. “Well I’m not okay about it, Coco was a really good pony, she didn’t deserve that. But don’t worry about me; it was just a little crush so I’m not heartbroken or anything.”

“How’s the head?” Pinkie asked suddenly, remembering their initial state before hearing about Coco.

“Still killing me,” Soarin admitted grinning, “But I can ignore it, we’ve got more important things to deal with right now. Speaking of which, you’re the expert detective, where should we start?”

“Well ordinarily the body would be a good starting point,” Pinkie began, “but the others have that covered. Let’s check out the two doors, I want to confirm they really are locked before Fleur and Trixie come by with the master key and unlock them again.”

“Alright, we’d better run then,” Soarin suggested. Pinkie nodded and entered into a trot, heading around the left of the manor house to the pool door.

Day 10, 09:24

“Looks like they beat us to the punch,” Soarin said disgruntled seeing the ponies standing around the kitchen door.

“I think Fleur held onto the key,” Pinkie pointed out, “we might not be too late.”

Running forward they reached the door where Vinyl, Braeburn and Cloudchaser were all standing outside of.

“It’s locked, don’t worry,” Cloudchaser said as she saw them coming, pulling the handle to demonstrate.

“That means both doors were definitely locked,” Soarin stated.

“So what does that indicate?” Braeburn asked. Pinkie sighed.

Have to stay objective about this.

“Well this door was defiantly open at the time the murder took place,” Pinkie explained, “only the master key can lock these doors, and since the main doors were closed at the time of the murder, and didn’t open until seven, that means either the killer locked both doors from the inside, before waiting until the main doors opened before delivering the key outside again, or they locked them from the outside and stayed outside until the main doors opened.”

“Or, just to cover all bases,” Cloudchaser said hesitantly, “they locked the two doors and never went inside.”

“Yes,” Pinkie replied bitterly, “I suppose that is equally plausible.”

“Gizmo, Redheart and I were at breakfast when the announcement was made,” Cloudchaser reminded them.

“After Redheart found us last night and gave us all a brow beating,” Soarin began, “We all crashed in Braeburn’s room. All three of us were there when the announcement was made.”

“And Fleur, Trixie and me were together as you know,” Vinyl stated neutrally.

“So the only one of us who could have been outside, and could have been guilty in that case,” Pinkie summarized, “was me.”

“Hey, we’ve only started investigating,” Soarin reminded them. “Well we can’t get inside through here, but instead of traipsing back to the main doors how about we check the shed?”

“What for?” Cloudchaser asked.

“Clues,” Soarin replied simply.

“Fine, I guess it’s a start,” Cloudchaser said uninterested, leading the way towards the shed.

The group walked in silence, Pinkie occasionally looking over at Vinyl only to see her pointedly looking the other way. Once outside the shed they found the doors closed, the chain lying discarded nearby, just as they’d left it. Without waiting for an invite, Braeburn slid the doors wide open, allowing light to spill into the otherwise pitch black shed. Vinyl led the way inside, her horn lighting up as an added measure.

“I don’t know about you guys,” Cloudchaser began, looking around the overflowing shed. “but I don’t think we’ll find anything here, this place looked like it had been ransacked before we even opened it. Trying to find something that stands out here will be like looking for a piece of hay in a stack full of needles.”

“Well then,” Soarin replied, reaching down for something the rest couldn’t see. “I guess you could say this is a piece of hay.”

Soarin turned around, smiling triumphantly, holding a shovel for the rest to see.

“A shovel,” Cloudchaser deadpanned, looking around the shed, at least a dozen other shovels visible to them. “What a rare find in a shed filled with shovels.”

“Yes, rare to find a shovel that’s been recently used in a shed full completely clean tools,” Soarin said, still grinning.

Curiosity rising, Pinkie walked over to where Soarin stood holding the shovel. Indeed every other tool in the shed that was old, but spotless regardless, but this shovel was caked in dry mud, a tell-tale sign of having recently been used.

“So what do you think?” Soarin asked, still sounding pleased with himself. “Do you think somepony fancied doing a bit of gardening work?”

“Alright, I get it,” Cloudchaser said disgruntled, “you can quit rubbing it in now.”

“You should hold onto this,” Pinkie suggested, not sure what part it could have played in this mystery, but far from willing to rule it out. Soarin nodded and carried it outside where Braeburn was still waiting.

Pinkie continued searching around. They’d got lucky with the shovel, but her hopes weren’t high for stumbling across anything else out of place. As she searched, she found herself navigating back to a familiar corner of the shed. She wasn’t even aware of why it struck her as familiar until she saw the broken lawnmower in front of her.

Remembering the broken blades sticking out every direction, making the lawnmower resemble some medieval torture device than a gardening tool, Pinkie shuddered as she looking over at the table Fleur had laid them out on.

Something was wrong, and Pinkie knew instantly what it was. The other day when Fleur had placed the blades out of harm’s way, she had laid them out in a very orderly fashion, but now they lay in a mismatched heap. Edging closer, a worrying feeling building up in her gut, Pinkie began pushing through the blades, moving very carefully so as not to cut herself on the razor sharp edges. When all the blades were once more spread out on the table, Pinkie saw it, buried beneath all the others. A single blade, covered in blood.

“I thought she died by fire,” Vinyl whispered behind Pinkie. Pinkie managed to prevent herself from jumping in surprise. Instead reaching out and picking up the blade.

It was a slow and delicate task picking it up in her hooves, a single wrong movement resulting in her losing a leg. She turned around so both her and Vinyl could see it clearly in the light of Vinyl’s horn. There was a lot of blood, mostly congealed but here and there Pinkie saw spots where the light was reflected showing the bits that had yet to dry.

“I can hold onto that,” Vinyl offered, picking the blade up in her magic. Pinkie didn’t argue, instead she just turned and left the shed.

Outside Braeburn, Soarin and Cloudchaser were all standing next to the wood pile, apparently deep in discussion. Soarin was the first to see her, and waved her over.

“Pinkie, Braeburn thinks some of the kindling wood is missing,” he explained.

“I don’t think, I know this bag was still full yesterday,” Braeburn corrected him.

“The killer probably took it to use as fuel for the fire,” Pinkie pointed out.

“Exactly,” Soarin agreed, “so they definitely came by this way, which means it’s possible they were the one who used this shovel.”

“Let’s head back to the body,” Pinkie suggested. “Maybe the others have found out something.”

Day 10, 10:06

“Any news?” Trixie asked as the group approached.

“Both doors were locked as assumed,” Pinkie replied calmly, Trixie just nodded.

“We also found a muddy shovel in the shed,” Braeburn pointed out. “And some of the kindling wood was missing.”

“We assumed as much,” Trixie replied, “there is evidence some wood fuel was used, but what of this shovel?”

“It looks like it was used recently,” Soarin explained, “I’m gonna look around this area and see if there was any digging going on recently.”

“You do that,” Trixie replied dismissively. As Soarin left she turned to Pinkie and the others. “You should come and see the body.”

Trixie turned and led the way over to the body where Fleur and Blueblood were still shadowing Redheart as she examined the blackened body.

“She looks so… peaceful,” Braeburn pointed out, gesturing at Coco’s body which was lying flat as opposed to twisted in agony.

“That’s because she was killed before she was set on fire,” Redheart explained pointing at Coco’s neck which had a massive gash running across it.

“That makes sense,” Vinyl said, bringing out the bloody blade Pinkie had found. “This was also in the shed.”

“Well, I guess it’s safe to say that’s our murder weapon,” Fleur said, her eyes briefly flickering over to Pinkie.

“Where’s Gizmo?” Cloudchaser asked suddenly, Pinkie looked around at this, realising he wasn’t there.

“I think he went to search the house,” Fleur replied. “Speaking of which, I’d better go open the doors in case we need to get through them.”

With that Fleur left, Trixie following close behind. Pinkie looked back to Redheart who had stood up from the body.

“Is there anything else?” she asked.

“No,” Redheart replied, “as far as I can tell, the killer cut Coco’s throat, most likely using that blade you found, before laying her out and lighting her up. There doesn’t seem to be anything more to it than that.”

“We should go look inside the house now,” Cloudchaser stated. “It doesn’t look like there’s anything left to be discovered out here.”

Braeburn nodded and he and Redheart began following Cloudchaser along the path back to the house.

“I’m going to go see if Soarin found anything,” Pinkie called after them. Redheart looked over her shoulder and nodded before carrying on. Pinkie turned around, this time fully aware Blueblood was standing there watching her. “You really believe I didn’t do it?”

“Of course I believe you,” Blueblood stated as if it were obvious. “I wasn’t lying when I said you didn’t have it in you to kill anyone… but, I also know you never would.”

Pinkie turned her head away so Blueblood wouldn’t see her blush. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Blueblood said, his momentary softness disappearing. “We still have to figure out who is responsible.”

He’s right, but despite what we’ve found I can’t think of anypony who could be responsible.

“Do you have any thoughts?” Pinkie asked beginning to walk in the direction she saw Soarin head off in.

“Nothing substantial,” he admitted, following after her.

"It probably doesn't help you drank your body weight in wine last night," Pinkie pointed out laughing.

"I suppose so, I can't remember a thing that happened last night," he replied with an amused smirk before his face turned grim, “but I have been a bit curious as to why your friends were so eager to pin the blame on you.”

“You mean Vinyl, Trixie and Fleur?” Pinkie asked, Blueblood nodded. “It does seem unlike them, but I don’t see any of them being murderers.”

“Did you see that doughnut maker or that Pegasus as murderers before you found out they were?” he asked rhetorically.

“Their names are Doughnut Joe and Lightning Dust,” Pinkie corrected him slightly irritably before sighing, “but no, I didn’t.”

Blueblood looked like he was about to say something, but then the both of them froze as they heard fast approaching hoofsteps. Looking to her right, Pinkie saw Soarin burst through a shrubbery, looking ecstatic about something.

“Pinkie, come quick!” he said breathlessly.

“What? What is it?” Pinkie asked, stunned by Soarin’s insistence.

“Just come on!” he shouted over his shoulder, taking off the direction he came.

Pinkie and Blueblood glanced at each other for a second before hurrying after him. They didn’t have to run far, which was good because Blueblood was proving to be vastly slower than Pinkie. They turned a corner to find Soarin standing, gasping for breath over a hole in the ground, the shovel planted firmly into the soil next to it.

“Soarin, is this…” Pinkie began, approaching the hole.

“Yeah,” he replied happily. “I wandered through here and found this patch of upturned dirt, dug around a bit and found this.”

Pinkie looked down into the small hole and gasped at what lay inside. A key with a large fob she recognised as one the bedroom keys, and a dirt encrusted hoof computer.

“Coco’s?” Pinkie asked, looking back up at Soarin.

“I think so,” he replied eagerly.

“Oh, um,” Blueblood said hesitantly, wracking his brain for something appropriate to say. “Well done?”

“Good guess,” Pinkie said quietly, smirking at Blueblood.

“We should go search Coco’s room,” Soarin suggested, “We might find something explaining why she was out here at all.”

“I hadn’t even thought about that,” Pinkie admitted, realising how odd it was for Coco to have been outside at four in the morning to begin with. “Sure, let’s check it out.”

Day 10, 10:43

Pinkie and Soarin stood outside the bedroom door, Blueblood having left them to see if the others had discovered anything new.

“Are you sure this is right?” Soarin asked.

“Let’s find out,” Pinkie said, putting the filthy key into the lock.

Despite the thin layer of grime covering it, it unlocked the door with relative ease. The door swung open revealing another generic bedroom, bed with its covers meticulously flattened out, door to bathroom, dresser and bedside table.

“Don’t suppose the guys’ rooms are any different?” Pinkie asked as the pair walked inside.

“Doesn’t look like it,” Soarin replied casually opening the dresser drawers.

Pinkie strode over to the bedside table, sliding the small drawer open and staring at its contents.

Bingo.

Pinkie picked up the folded sheet of paper, leaving the drawer completely bare.

“Soarin, I found something,” Pinkie announced, inviting Soarin to come and stand beside her as she flipped it open.

Dear Coco…

“Good start,” Pinkie said flatly.

“God that writing is messy,” Soarin gave off. “You’d think the pony that wrote this was drunk or something.”

I love you…

Pinkie and Soarin looked at each other, their eyebrows raised.

Like seriously, you are so hot, I just want to grab your plot and…

“Whoa!” Pinkie exclaimed, looking up from the paper, her face burning with embarrassment. “That’s graphic.”

“Let’s just skip that part,” Soarin suggested sounding a little disgusted himself.

If any of that sounds good to you, then meet me outside on the main drive right now!

Eagerly waiting…

“Soarin!” Pinkie and Soarin read at the same time.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Soarin began stammering, pulling the letter from Pinkie’s grip. “This can’t be right; I’d never say anything as vulgar as this.”

Pinkie was left a bit speechless, mouthing like a fish out of water.

“For me to write something as insane as this I’d have to be piss drun…” Soarin trailed off, his eyes wide in horror.

“Oh,” Pinkie said.

“Ah,” Soarin said. “But even if I did write this, how did it end up here? We went straight from the dining room to Braeburn’s room; I could never have delivered this.”

“What if somepony found it after you left the dining room,” Pinkie suggested, “they could have slid it under Coco’s door and used it to bait her outside.”

“By that logic it’s my fault she’s…”

“No! Don’t ever think that!” Pinkie scolded him. “You made a drunken mistake, but you didn’t kill her, so it is not your fault.”

“Still, I can’t believe this worked!” Soarin said in disbelief. “I always imagined Coco was the kind of mare who’d read something like this and hide under her bedcovers crying.”

“I guess we didn’t know her as well as we thought we did,” Pinkie suggested, a bit disturbed by the notion as well.

“So who could have found that letter?” Soarin muttered. “We have no way of knowing who went to the dining room after we left.”

“We should go down there now,” Pinkie stated. “We might find something.”

“God I hope so,” Soarin stressed, “because now this is looking bad for you and me both.”

Day 10, 11:03

“Vinyl!” Pinkie called seeing the DJ walk out of the dining room. Vinyl looked over hearing her name, but flinched when she saw it was Pinkie.

Just forget it, if she suspects you it’s her own problem. Just be professional.

“Yeah?” Vinyl said coolly.

“Soarin dug up Coco’s hoof computer outside,” Pinkie said, holding said item out to Vinyl. “Can you take a look at it and see if you can find anything on it?”

“Sure,” Vinyl said, telekinetically grabbing the computer off Pinkie.

Pinkie opened her mouth to continue talking, but Vinyl had already started walking away, leaving Pinkie to sigh to herself before her and Soarin entered the dining room. The room was scarcely occupied, only Gizmo sitting on a seat and Redheart circling the table.

“Oh, hey there,” Redheart greeted, seeing them enter. “How’s it going?”

“Okay, um,” Soarin began, “Redheart, you wouldn’t know if anypony else came in here after you sent us to bed last night do you?”

“No, I went to bed shortly after myself,” Redheart admitted. “Why?”

“Oh, uh, no reason,” Soarin said hurriedly making Redheart raise an eyebrow out of curiosity.

“Soarin may have written a letter in his drunken state which was used to lure Coco outside,” Pinkie explained, despite Soarin’s miniature panic attack. “We think somepony took it after you all left, but we don’t know who else was in here.”

“Well I never saw any letters,” Redheart answered apologetically.

“I never came in here,” Gizmo jumped in. “I wash in my room.”

“You’ve been in your room an awful lot these last couple days,” Soarin pointed out, his tone turning suspicious. “What exactly have you been doing?”

“Nothing!” Gizmo snapped far too quickly. Pinkie and Soarin looked at one another briefly.

He’s hiding something, I wonder what…

“Gizmo…” Pinkie began, but she didn’t get much further than that.

“Alright everypony,” the Mastermind announced. “The time for investigation is over; please make your way to the entrance hall so the trial may begin.”

“Ah, gotta go!” Gizmo exclaimed, rushing out of the room to avoid any further questions.

“See if you can’t get anything out of him,” Pinkie said to Soarin, “I’m going to have a quick look over at where you guys were sitting before catching up.”

Soarin nodded, striding from the room, followed by closely by Redheart. Pinkie hurried over to the end of the table the three stallions had been drinking at the night before. She’d have to be quick about this; she didn’t want to give the Mastermind an excuse to punish her. Reaching the end of the table she began scanning it for anything out of the ordinary. Somepony must have cleared away the glasses and bottles, probably this morning while they were having breakfast. However they might have missed somewhere.

Pinking crouched down and held up the table cloth, her eyes widening as she noticed a large patch of something dried into the carpet.

Blood?!

Author's Notes:

Pinkie is the murderer... What's that? You think she's innocent? Well then who do you think is the real culprit?
The time for accusations is now, for all shall be revealed in the next part of the chapter, which should be released on Monday (although it will probably be delayed).