The silence permeated through the crowd as hundreds of eyes stared at Conan. His own eyes were staring down at the body, a chill going down his spine as he realized the attention was all on him. Not a single pony moved from their spot, and Conan grew angry. He was about to yell at the crowd, and ask them what they were waiting for. However he realized the lack of technology in this world, probably because most ponies were not even a fan of clothes with pockets. No one could call the police because there were no cell phones. Conan pointed to Rarity and the mare jumped slightly at being suddenly accused by a foal who was childish at first, but suddenly serious. “Rarity, go get the police.” He told her, as his ocean blue eyes stared ahead at the two mares who had tear marks on their cheeks. Both of them were crying, and terrified of this event. Rarity nodded her head and trotted out the door, explaining her reasons for leaving to the body guard before she headed off.
A sigh moved past Conan's lips, as he realized that another crime scene was enacted in front of him. Whether he was dreaming or not, apparently he couldn't live a day of his life without witnessing a crime. He scanned the party and noticed a significant amount of fillies and foals were attending the party along with the adults. What a shame that this had to be seen, considering he was not going to tolerate any crime before him. Some would say that it made him a hero for his intolerance. Others would consider it a flaw. Conan would consider it a curse. Some colts from the back of the party crowd started to grow agitated, and they moved to the front of the line. “You don't tell us what to do,” one of the colts started, “You are just a foal! We can leave the party whenever we want.”
One of the colts started to move towards the door, and Conan peripheral vision alerted him that the DJ stand was empty. The white mare was standing at the door now, a smirk remaining to be the only visible thing on her face. The agitated colt raised an eyebrow as he stopped in front of the mare. “What are you doing? Get outta my way, I need to get home.”
“You seem to be very anxious to leave the party. Why would that be?” The mare asked. “Those who commit the crime are usually the ones who want to leave it.”
The light green colt bit his lip before he took a step back from the DJ. She looked over to Conan, and then her lips showed a more serious expression. “What do you think, Detective?” She asked.
Conan's eyes widened as the crowd focused their eyes on him once more. Should he even be showing off his detective prowess in this room? Was there such thing as a gang organization that wanted him dead in this country? He had to think quickly because the longer his response was, the less people would believe him. “I'm not a detective. That is just what I was taught in school! To tell everyone to stop in their position.” He said.
The previously annoyed colt turned back to the DJ. “Okay, he doesn't have anything to tell us, let's leave.” He said. “Come on Mare, move.”
Right when the DJ was going to respond, the doors opened and two dark blue colts walked into the room. The crowd seemed to settle down, and some of them shifted in nervousness, mostly the two mares who used to dance with the corpse. Conan noticed these actions and his mind started to work, now that everyone wasn't staring at him. He looked down at the chandelier, and the blood lines on the party floor. Each line was around 3 inches away from each other and diagonally spread a foot into the floor. This was not an accident, this was a planned murder.
“Alright everyone. I am Behind Bars and this is my partner, Fair Trial.” The first cop said. He was wearing a police uniform that reminded Conan of the ones back in Japan, although the hat was missing. The officer's outfit was wrinkled a large amount and there were dark circles under his eyes. His short mane and tail were unkempt. However he immediately looked towards the body, and walked over to it. The second cop remained near the door, which alleviated the DJ from her duties. Conan started to walk around the room, and the DJ walked over to him and tapped his shoulder. “Hey, Foal.” She said.
Conan turned towards the DJ and smiled. “Thanks for helping me out.” He said, before he looked back to a particular light switch. “Do you have a handkerchief?” He asked, while he looked back to the detached chandelier.
“Nice to meet you too.” The DJ responded with a slight tone of annoyance. She walked over to the table and took a napkin, followed by levitating it over to Conan. He didn't notice the magic that was used to give him the napkin, he just assumed that it was thrown to him from a short distance. His attention remained on the fixture as he realized the switch was of a revolving nature. Whether it was turned left or right, the lights would dim or brighten. He placed the napkin on his back as he walked back over to the corpse. Behind Bars looked towards Conan and then chuckled. “This isn't something that you need to see, little foal.” He said.
Conan pointed up at the chains that used to hold the murder weapon, and he adopted that curious tone he used whenever he would ask the detectives back in Japan a question. “Say, wouldn't it be better to check the chains for fingerprints?” He asked.
Some of the members of the crowd started to laugh, while others were flat out confused. Behind Bars was one of the confused ones. “Finger what? What are you talking about?” He replied.
Conan paused and looked down at the limbs that kept him up. One of the major methods that Japan used in order to solve a case was completely absent. Ponies didn't have fingers, they only had hooves. This realization made him more uncomfortable than the hundreds of cases that he endured, and ended up solving. For the first time since he started detective work, an unknown value was being brought before him. Fingerprints could not be used as evidence. Because of this, the one thing Conan planned to use to solve the case was gone. He was back to square one. “Never mind.” He said with an innocent tone while he walked back to the corner of the room he used during the murder.
He was lost. He knew the two suspects. The murder weapon was here. The motive wasn't. There were too many variables for him to be comfortable with a hypothesis. As much as he hated having to wait, he was going to have the police officers help answer some of his internal questions.
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“Alright alright, settle down,” the blue officer said as he looked back towards the crowd. He pointed at the two mares in front of him with his hoof. The right mare jumped slightly, while the left mare sighed. “The two of you were nearby the victim during the dance. You both saw the chandelier fall onto him, and you were closest to him when he died. You two are the primary suspects.”
Both mares looked down at the ground, and a particular set of lips curved into a smirk. Conan stared at the owner of the lips. His eyes narrowed before he moved out of the corner and walked over to the party table. Pinkie Pie was eating a cupcake, and Conan pulled Pinkie underneath the table, before he motioned for her mouth to stay shut. Pinkie nodded her head, even though she looked slightly sad that she couldn't talk. “Pinkie Pie,” he paused for a moment, as he realized how girly that name sounded, “I need you to do me a favor.”
Pinkie blinked a few times as Conan whispered into her ear, and she nodded her head. “Okay I think I can do that.”
Conan sighed in relief before he moved from underneath the table. “Now I just need the proof.”
The first mare had a light yellow coat, and currently had a set of pegasus wings folded nearby her sides. She was wearing a dress that showed a significant amount of skin, but remained safe just in case children were to attend the party. Conan could tell that the woman was not as interested in this party as the others, and her yellow eyes refused to look in the officer's eyes. They preferred to look at the ground. The second mare had a lighter blue coat, and deep blue eyes which matched Conan's. She was wearing clothes that modeled the DJ back on the stage, and she looked to be very sad. The second mare was a unicorn. Behind Bars looked to the two mares. “Please give me your names.”
“One Trick.” The pegasus responded.
“Bloo Berry.” The unicorn responded, her face flushing over with red color from the mention of her name.
The officer took out a notepad and started to write. “From the looks of this, I would say that the chandelier fell off of the chains because it was starting to rust. The chains are broken on the chandelier, and that was probably because the rust eventually broke the chains.” He said, while writing a condensed version on the pad.
Conan looked towards the chandelier, and then over to both mares. He smiled as Pinkie walked over to the two suspects and she blinked a few times before sneezing. Confetti shot out from her mouth, and Bloo Berry quickly formed a shield in front of her that the confetti stuck to. A frown formed on her face. “What are you doing, sneezing in my face?” The mare asked.
Pinkie giggled before she rubbed her nose. “Sorry.” She responded, before she walked back over to the party table. Bloo Berry watched Pinkie before looking back to the officer, as he explained his own theory of the accident. Pinkie looked to Conan as the foal took a bite out of a muffin, and then she threw a muffin at One Trick. The pegasus turned around and caught the muffin between her hooves before taking a bite. She smirked and thanked Pinkie, while the pink mare turned to the foal. “What did that prove you silly?” She whispered.
Conan finished off his muffin and looked up to the chandelier. “This world is weird, but that doesn't mean I can't solve cases.”
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Behind Bars sighed as he turned over to the door to the party. “I think that we can safely assume that this is an accident. The chandelier chains are rusted, and no one was capable of undoing the chandelier.” He said.
“That is where you are wrong.” A high voice responded. The crowd turned to Pinkie and gasped. She was wearing a hat that was unfamiliar to anyone else but her and Conan. He found that hat hilarious, and suitable for what he told her. It was her turn to be Sherlock Holmes. “This is a murder. And I know who did it.”
Behind Bars raised an eyebrow, obviously unconvinced. “I doubt that the one who planned this party would be capable of figuring out who did it. Leave this to the professionals.” He replied.
Pinkie giggled a small amount. “Oh well if you say so. If you want a murderer to get away, then fine by me.” She said, as she bounced over to both of the mares. She looked down at the confetti on the ground, and then up at the chandelier. This was all Conan's guess, but it was better safe than sorry. “One of these two is the murderer. The trick was rather simple, considering the room was fairly dark when the murder occurred. The chandelier is capable of being pulled off of it's hinges by a pegasus who is very agile and strong,” One Trick turned red, as the crowd turned to stare at her.
“It wasn't me! I swear it wasn't! I didn't even know this was going to happen!” She said.
Pinkie's smile remained as she started to hop around the two suspects, looking them over while she spoke. “I didn't finish. The chandelier is also able to be taken off by magic. However a glowing horn in the middle of the dance floor would be odd, don't you think? It would be easily seen.”
Bloo Berry grinned as she felt the attention being taken off of her. “Yeah, of course it wasn't me.” She responded. “I'm related to Scarcity. I would never hurt him.”
“Unless, you hid your horn.”
Bloo Berry's eyes widened and she stared ahead at Pinkie, who stopped delivered her own glare. “It is possible to undo the screws on the plate that holds the chandelier chains, and wait for time to take its effect. However, this is risky, considering the chandelier could end up falling at an inopportune time. Along with that, the screws were not the thing that caused the accident. The broken chain did. If Bloo Berry wanted to use the chandelier as a weapon, she would have to figure out a way to hide her horn.”
“Lies!” Bloo Berry said, as she took a step back. Pinkie took a step forward.
“You hid your horn underneath Scarcity's clothes. You were attempting to be risque around him, to show up One Trick. It was all an act however, since you had a perfect line of sight to undo the chains on the chandelier. You used a spell to rust the chains and cause the death of this man.”
Bloo Berry bit her lip, before she found her voice again. “Do you have any proof that I did this?”
Pinkie looked up at the chandelier, then the body. “When a spell is used, magical dust fragments remain on the horn of the one who used the spell and the object that was used.”
Bloo Berry looked up at the chandelier, before she pulled out the card that she didn't think she would have to play. The truth, that could end up making her innocent. “But... but Pinkie! You saw me put that chandelier up!” She said. “I helped you put this party together!”
Pinkie placed her hoof underneath her chin and she turned over to Conan. “Hey Conan, she does have a point!” She said. The whole crowd turned to stare at the foal. Conan cursed silently to himself, as Behind Bars began to grow impatient.
“Get to the point! Pinkie, Foal, stop wasting time!” Behind Bars responded.
Conan looked over to the body, then at the chandelier. He stared ahead with wide eyes, as the answer came to him. “Check Scarcity's coat.” He said.
Bloo Berry laughed nervously. “That isn't going to show anything.”
“Oh on the contrary. Magical dust rubs off on anything that interacts with it. So if you hid your horn... than the evidence should show.”
Bloo Berry stamped her hoof on the ground, but didn't say anything. Her gaze once again diverted to the ground.
Conan smiled, as he walked over to the mare. “I'll give you one last chance to confess.”
“Fine I did it! I killed Scarcity!” Bloo Berry yelled, as she took a step towards the foal and growled. She raised her hoof to strike Conan, who stepped backwards while Behind Bars moved over to Bloo Berry. The culprit looked left and right before dropping to the floor. She placed her forehooves over her eyes as tears started to leak down her cheeks. “He was a cheater! He had no shame! That bastard hired this... tramp to attend the party with him. He told me that he wanted to apologize for cheating on me, and he would get back together with me at the party if I showed him a good time.” She sobbed.
Conan's eyes narrowed as he took a step forward towards Bloo Berry. The mare continued to cry as Behind Bars formed a pair of handcuffs around her hooves. “When I saw him dancing with her... I knew that he was only trying to hurt me again. I knew that I had to make him unhappy, and the only way was to kill him.”
Conan turned his back to the crowd, his voice being replaced with vitriol and anger. “No one deserves to die. No wonder your case was so easy to find out, you weren't thinking when you did it. Everyone deserves to live out their life to the fullest extent of the law, and no one deserves to have their life taken away because someone else wishes it.”
Conan walked out of the building and leaned against the wall nearby the entrance. He pressed a hoof against his head to try and quell the migraine that was forming. Rarity followed Conan, looking down at him as she struggled to find the right words to say. Ponies rushed in and out of the building, carrying the body and bringing the convict to justice. Both blue eyed ponies stared up at Luna's moon, and Conan blinked a few times. Rarity smiled and she placed her hoof on Conan's shoulder. “You are a very talented foal.” She told him.
Conan felt a buzzing feeling on his thighs and he looked behind him. A magnifying glass slowly formed on his thighs, until it was completely visible on the outer sides of his flanks. “What is... this?” He asked.
Rarity blinked a few times. “I think you haven't been taught this in school yet. It is a cutie mark. It shows what your special talent is.”
“That's... nice.” Conan responded, as he blinked a few more times.
He collapsed on his face, and Rarity gasped before placing her fore hooves on his back. “Conan are you okay? Conan? Conan!”
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The beeping of a hospital device and the soft crying of a girl were the only things that invaded the silence of the room. Ran Mouri remained in one of the chairs nearby the hospital bed, her hands over her eyes as the sixteenth hour passed without a response. Conan laid inside of the hospital bed, a large amount of gauze wrapped around the back of his head. His glasses were on the nearby end table, and his arm was in a cast. Apparently he fell on something hard if his arm needed to be fixed due to a simple collapse. Despite the teenager's crying, he did not wake up. His heart rate remained normal, but his brain activity was a completely different story. Ran stared ahead at the clipboard that was clipped to the edge of the bed. The main word that created her depressed response, was the only word that she was scared of seeing when she reached the hospital. “Conan Edogawa, current status: Coma.”