Trigger Happy Equines

“I AGREE WITH THAT!”

White Powder <> made an explosive

< Argument Break >

“As fantastical as it sounds, I actually think Button is right. From the evidence we have, Yoko must have been hit with a blast from an explosive.”

“I’m right again!?” Button was beaming. He pumped a hoof elatedly and muttered something to himself. “I knew I had this detective thing in the bag!”

“Now wait a second!” Sanscript broke in with. “Do you seriously mean to say the killer used explosives!?” Sanscript shook his head.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Dish Panner remarked. “From the way the room looked, that was my first guess.”

“It does make sense,” Copper cut in with. “It was a loud bang that woke me up, and Reph reported the same thing.”

“But still!” Sanscript fumed. “How is that even possible!? We don’t have gunpowder or plastic explosives of any kind, at least not that I’ve seen. What could’ve possibly been the cause?”

“Traces of a white powder,” I said, “were left on the remains of the table. Most of it must have ignited when the explosion occurred, but some must have been left behind.”

“So, what was it?” Inky asked.

I frowned. “I’m not entirely sure.”

Dish Panner cleared her throat. “It was likely one of two things – flour or milk powder. Both are highly explosive, more so than most creatures believe. If you tossed a bag of flour around in the presence of a pan fire, you could decimate an entire kitchen. Bring pieces of sharp metal into the mix and the force would be like a shotgun blast.”

“Hang on,” Elsie said, rubbing her temple. “Are you saying that if you took a naked flame to a bag of flour, it was just… explode? That seems rather far-fetched.”

“No, that’s not how it works,” Dish Panner replied. “For it to combust, there still needs to be enough available oxygen. Lighting a match on a bag of flour might ignite it a little, but would likely just scorch the surface powder. However, it’s a completely different story if the air is filled with floating powder particles. Holding a lit flame in that scenario would definitely set off an explosion.”

“So that’s it then?” Inky said. “The killer tossed some powder around, turned up the heat and then boom!”

Dish Panner bit her lip. “I don’t think it’s that simple. Were there traces of powder all over the room?”

I shook my head. “Not from what I saw.”

“Me neither,” Inky confirmed. “Why? What does it matter?”

“I think I know,” I said. “If the whole room was filled with powder then we should’ve seen patches of it on the carpet. Even if done with care, throwing powder around would’ve meant some of it falling in messy clumps and clinging to the carpet and fabric of the sofas. Aside from that, there’s the location of the shrapnel to think about. If it was left in a big pile, the explosion would’ve probably knocked them in the same direction, but the pieces were scattered all over.” I exhaled through my nose. What had seemed like an obvious answer required a bit more thought than I had prepared before the trial. But I can figure it out. I just need to think!

“It’s so very tragic,” Maribelle said dejectedly, hanging her head. “We checked for things like knives, but we never thought to check the nails and screws. The killer outwitted us all.”

Sanscript frowned somberly. “It was an elaborate murder, that’s for certain. I feel as if the killer did so in order to confuse us as much as possible.” He paused, looking around the room. “I… feel uncomfortable even considering an accusation. I don’t want to believe that one of you was capable of such a travesty.”

“I was gonna say,” Button began, “little Miss food critic seems pretty suspicious right now. Why do you know so much about explosives when all you’re famous for is whining about roast carrots?”

“Knowledge doesn’t equal guilt,” Dish Panner retorted calmly, running a hoof through her bobbed mane. “Besides, if I were truly guilty, why would I provide useful information?”

“Button,” Maribelle said in a cautionary tone. “I have told you this already. You cannot just accuse someone of murder without good reason.”

“I know!” Button sulked, rolling his eyes. “Just let me solve this thing in my own way, alright?”

“I’ve got it!” I exclaimed, beaming from ear to ear. I turned to Dish Panner. “You said there could only be an explosion if there was flour, milk powder, whatever floating about in the air, right? So there was enough oxygen to allow combustion?”

Dish Panner nodded. “That’s how it works.”

“Then it’s simple!” I continued. “The killer created a nail bomb and used a snow globe effect to trigger the explosion!”

“Snow globe?” Inky said confusedly. “What do you mean by that?”

I chuckled to myself. I couldn’t help but be proud of my revelation. It truly made life worth living! “Like a big glass container. You fill it with flour and shrapnel, shake it up like a snow globe, and that creates an explosive atmosphere within the container. Strike a match inside, force it shut with a stopper of some kind and boom! Provided you got the density of powder just right, it’d explode. That explains the glass as well!”

“But how big a glass container are we talking?” Dish Panner asked. “You surely couldn’t do something like that with a wine bottle, right?”

“I can think of one,” Inky said, beaming. “There’s these great big bottles of cider, like massive urns! I think they can hold a gallon, at least. I hear they’re real popular down south, and for once, that wasn’t a euphemism.”

“Exactly,” I said. “That’s what the killer used. They filled it with all the right ingredients and made their very own nail bomb!”

“Is that really the case?” Mesmer cut in with, his voice like ice. “If there truly was an explosion like you’re describing, it seems surprising that something would be present on the scene. The fire.”

“What about it?”

“It was burning when we investigated the rec room, correct? Do you suppose that was the case when the explosion you speak of was set off?”

“Well yeah,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “I assume that’s where the killer got the flame to set off the explosion in the first place.”

Mesmer sighed heavily. “I warned you, Greyscale. You’re being a bad detective again, making all these little assumptions without actually figuring things out logically. Perhaps you simply lack the relevant knowledge to understand why what you’re proposing is difficult to believe. Not that your reliance on the expertise of Miss Panner leads me to believe otherwise, of course.”

“What have I said wrong now?” I asked in a hushed tone. I had expected Mesmer to remain as he always had, but all the same it was a shock to hear him oppose me on something that seemed so cut and dry.

“An explosion,” Mesmer began, “would have some kind of effect, wouldn’t it? Given the state of the room we would have to assume it was quite the blast, enough to rip through Yoko’s flesh. Therefore, we can also assume it was enough to disturb the air to a considerable degree. Tell me, what might be the result of this? Have a think.”

I ground my teeth at Mesmer’s condescending tone. “What are you trying to get at?”

“Mesmer, please,” Lancet said. “If you have something to say, tell us. How can we further this trial if you withhold information?”

“What do you think?” Mesmer said, keeping his eyes on me. “Should I just come out and say it?”

“Mesmer!” Copper blasted. “This isn’t a game!”

“Well… technically it is,” Monobunny interjected. “This is a killing game, after all, and Mesmer isn’t breaking any rules.”

“Just shut up!” Copper yelled. “Grey, just ignore him. If he’s not going to actually help us out, the rest of us can solve it ourselves.”

“No.”

Copper furrowed her brow. “What?”

“No,” I repeated. I was seething, that same sensation from the first trial back with a vengeance. I wanted – needed – to prove myself. “I can figure this out. Mesmer obviously thinks we’re missing something, and maybe it’s more important than we give him credit for.” I eyed Mesmer ferociously, sweat dripping down my forehead. “Okay. If we assume there was an explosion, it means something about the crime scene doesn’t make sense, correct?”

“Perhaps,” Mesmer replied, revealing the faintest hint of a smile. “Was there anything that seemed out of place?”

I pondered for a moment, but once again came up blank. If an explosion wasn’t involved, I couldn’t see another possible method. Unless the killer tried to make it look like an explosion to cover something up, but that didn’t seem right either. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I finally said, already anticipating a rebuke. “The rec room was the perfect place to use a nail bomb. It wouldn’t be suspicious for anyone to light the log fire, and once that was done the killer would have more than enough resources to set off the explosives, saving them the hassle of fiddling about with a match.”

Mesmer’s eyes lit up. “You mentioned the fire. When we arrived on the scene, what did it look like?”

“Like a fire,” I retorted. “What was it supposed to look like?”

“Let’s be more specific. The arrangement of the logs and kindling looked rather normal, don’t you think? Like something out of a family winter scene. I’m sure everyone can agree on this. Now, why would that be odd?”

The answer fell into place like a lead weight. “Because… there’d just been an explosion.”

“Precisely,” Mesmer said. “Everything else in the room was in pieces, and if the nail bomb was set off at the end of the table nearest the door as you so claim, that puts it just a few feet away from the fireplace. If you ask me, that doesn’t add up.”

“So I’m an idiot? Is that it!?” I rasped. “Just because one small thing doesn’t fit while literally everything else does!?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Mesmer said calmly. “Why leave one stone unturned when our lives are on the line?”

“Greyscale, he’s right,” Dopple said in an apologetic tone. “We can’t drop this.”

I clenched my eyelids but the image of Mesmer’s smug expression remained, filling me with rage.

“You heard her,” Mesmer said mockingly. “Let’s discuss this, shall we?”

The stage began to spin.

Truth Bullets

Broken Window

Fireplace Guard

Monobunny File #2

Reph’s Account

Piece of Rope

Crowbars

Mesmer: It seems strange to me that the fire would be in such an ordinary state upon our arrival, don’t you agree?

Elsie: So the explosion never happened!?

Copper: I just don’t see how that makes sense.

Mesmer: At the very least such a blast would have knocked the logs over, given the short distancebetween the fire and suspected explosion placement.

Sanscript: That’s right! If you think about it, the fire would definitely have been hit by the blast. Nothing could have stopped it!

Dish Panner: That’s not all. If powder floated into the fire it could very well have set off another explosion.

Button: I get it! The explosion would’ve snuffed out the fire, right?

Mesmer: That’s not certain, but a very real possibility.

Lancet: Can we even be sure the killer didn’t start the fire after the explosion?

Reph: What would be the point in that?

Lancet: Maybe they thought it’d throw us off their scent.

Elsie: Could someone really have rearranged the fireplacejust for such a thing? Would the killer have had time? Surely they’d want to make a quick getaway.

Reph: How can we have hit a dead end s-so early on?

There is no dead end. The answer is right here! But if it’s what I think it is, that means…