West Walnut

Dupon tried the back door of the hotel and found it locked.

“Well, that part of Gadget’s story is confirmed, it seems,” he said.

“Indeed,” Turing replied.

The two trotted their way around the hotel. They moved around to the front entrance, passing the stone walkway leading to the front door where there was a blood-stained chalk outline of the spot where Beacon Bomber had been found (and another unsavory spot where Gadget had been sick).

An officer stood at the front entrance and saluted the Inspector as he entered. “Inspector! Minister Turing!” he called out. “Do you require assistance?”

“I don’t believe so, Constable, but just to confirm, nothing in the hotel has been touched since the investigation has begun? That is, the condition of the kitchen, the rooms, the halls, etc., are all as they were left earlier?”

“Yes, Inspector! Though the service personnel are growing a bit restless, I’m afraid. Chef White Heat was quite vocal about being confined to the ballroom.”

“Please offer him our apologies and thank him and the others for our patience, but we still need them to stay put for the time being.”

The constable nodded and Dupon gestured for Turing to follow him.

“Will we now interrogate another potential suspect?” she asked. “If so, might I suggest West Walnut?”

“My thoughts exactly, Turing,” Dupon said, looking back at her with a smile. “He was unaccounted for during the murder and he has, compared to most others, the greatest motive for the crime. Let’s see what he has to say…”

“Mr. Walnut has nothing to say.”

The security guard stated this flatly and slammed the door in Dupon and Turing’s faces.

“It seems that he also wishes to invoke his right to an attorney,” Turing said, her voice just a bit louder than normal. She held a hoof up to her vocalizer amplifying her voice further: “Perhaps Mr. Vanderbull or another guest could recommend a proficient one, given the strong evidence against him.”

At that, there was commotion in the room and West Walnut’s angry voice shouting over his guards.

“...I see you learn quickly, Turing,” Dupon whispered. “Let’s see if he takes the bait…”

The door opened and the same guard stood there, his brow noticeably sweatier and his expression sour.

“Mr. Walnut will speak with you,” he said. “However, please do not upset him. Mr. Walnut is feeling ill and—”

“Come off it, Kato, let them in!”

The guard bowed and opened the door wide, gesturing for Dupon and Turing to enter.

West Walnut sat in his room’s office chair. Upon seeing the two of them enter, however, he stood and offered his hoof. “Well now, Inspector Dupon, Minister Turing, I hear that you are both investigating this awful business about that poor pony murdered right on the hotel’s doorstep. I will of course offer any help that I can to your investigation.”

“We are very glad to hear that,” Turing Test said. “Perhaps you will be able to clarify some things that we have heard.”

“Why, Minister, it would be my pleasure!” he said. “I would hate to be seen as unfriendly under these circumstances!”

“Sir,” said his other security guard, a mare in a form-fitting suit, “I really think you should rest instead.”

“Oh, come off it, May Day, I can answer a few simple questions!” he snapped. He then took a few steps back and sat heavily in his office chair again.

Despite his nonchalance, both Dupon and Turing could see that he looked ill. When searching up possible ways to describe him, Turing considered that Applejack would have said he looked like “a bushel o’ rotten apples warmed over and fed through the hogs.”

He was sweating enough to soak through his shirt. His elegantly-styled mane was mussed, and his mustache frayed. His eyes were marked with dark circles.

“Forgive us, Mr. Walnut,” Dupon said, “but your guards say that you are not well, and I am inclined to agree with them.”

“Oh, just something I ate that disagreed with me,” West Walnut said. “No idea what it was, though that salad tasted a bit off. I heard a lot of wonderful things about this White Heat’s cooking, but I am not impressed. I’m a simple pony at heart, you know, and I’d take a nice bit of biscuits and chocolate gravy over that fancy stuff anyday!”

Dupon raised an eyebrow and Turing was very suddenly grateful to not have taste buds.

“Mr. Walnut,” Dupon began, “perhaps it would be best if you started by briefly describing yourself. Your purpose in coming here, for starters.”

“I’d be delighted!” he said. “As the Minister can tell you, my company has put a lot of time and money into developing a new checkout counter and register that makes use of a fancy new invention called ‘bar codes.’”

Dupon looked over at Turing, who nodded.

“The invention was developed using modern runic coding techniques,” she explained. “By labeling products with a pattern of black and white lines, an optical scanner can determine a product’s identity and price and add it to a running total. West Walnut and his stores are among the first to adopt such technology for consumer goods. It has been shown to greatly expedite the process of tabulating a customer’s total bill.”

“And within a year, every Walnut-Mart across Equestria will have them!” West Walnut exclaimed. “No more manual tabulating or correcting errors! Even the most inexperienced and untrained cashier would be able to ring up a customer in no time at all!”

“I can see the appeal of such an invention,” Dupon said. “And this machine is what you brought to demonstrate for the symposium?”

“That,” he said, his grin widening, “and a bit more.”

Turing tilted her head to the side. “More? West Walnut, were you untruthful in your application to the symposium?”

“Oh, perish the thought, Minister!” West Walnut said, hoof to his chest as if wounded. “I merely brought the newest iteration of the device.”

“Please clarify,” Turing said, leaning in eagerly.

“The version I brought in is a working prototype for a checkout counter that can operate without a cashier.” He grinned. “The whole process is done by the customers themselves!”

Turing and Dupon exchanged a look.

“My apologies, Mr. Walnut,” Dupon said, “but I don’t quite see the point.”

“Oh, neither did the investors, at first,” West Walnut laughed, before immediately devolving into a coughing fit. “Ahem… my apologies. Where was I?”

“Automated checkout counters,” Turing reminded him.

“Oh yes yes, thank you, Minister,” he said. “You see, I was visiting a Walnut-Mart location just outside Tall Tale, seeing our barcode machines working perfectly, when I noticed something: the cashiers only had to swipe the goods across the scanner, announce the total, and take the bits. But why couldn’t the customers scan the goods themselves? Read the total bill themselves? And, just for good measure, put in the money themselves? If we could automate those parts of the process, why, it would be a vast improvement!”

“Really?” Dupon asked, stroking his chin. “It seems to me that the customer would have to do more work just to make their purchases.”

“Oh, just a bit, sir, just a bit,” West Walnut said, waving a hoof dismissively. “But think of the cost that could be saved!”

Turing did think about it. And then she said, “By ‘cost,’ you refer to the cost of your employees.”

“Well… yes!” West Walnut laughed. “No need to pay 20 different ponies to run 20 different cash registers when we could have one pony monitor 20 different automated ones, just to make sure ponies are paying for their goods and operating the machines properly! And machines don’t need breaks, they don’t need vacations, they don’t get sick or need benefits. Just think of all the money that could be saved across nearly every industry! Why, this is the glorious future that you’ve been promising us, Minister Turing!”

Turing raised her head. “The future that I promised?” she asked.

“Certainly!” he laughed. “Being a machine, you can see the advantage, can’t you? We normal ponies can make mistakes, and we are so flawed, but this new age of technology is helping us cut out all the unnecessary waste! And my stores will be on the cutting edge of it all, sweeping away everypony still stuck in the past and galloping toward a brighter future!”

Turing stared back at him in silence for a moment. “...And what will happen to the cashiers this technology will replace?” she asked quietly.

West Walnut gave a simple shrug. “Well, it’s an unskilled labor position to begin with. I suppose all those cashiers will just have to learn how to code, eh?” At that, he erupted into another round of hearty laughter before it brought on another coughing fit. “Oh ho ho, I… pardon me, I…” The color began to drain from his face. “I… urp… excuse me…!”

He got up suddenly and rushed for the bathroom.

“Excuse me as well,” Turing Test said, stepping out of the room.

“Er… yes, let’s give Mr. Walnut a few minutes to compose himself,” Dupon said, hurriedly following her out.

He found her standing in the hall by herself, staring into space.

“Turing Test? Are you quite all right?”

“I am responsible for this,” she said softly.

“I beg your pardon?” he asked.

“I advocated for the use of barcodes in retail services,” she said, turning to face him. “It seemed like a perfect example of using technology to increase efficiency for both buyers and sellers. I believed it would lower the requirements to become a cashier, and I was glad to have Mr. Walnut present this invention to the symposium. I… did not think he would utilize the technology in this way.”

“You mean to put ponies out of a job,” Dupon surmised.

Turing nodded. “According to Sea Dweller, he is using his vast resources to push out local business owners, and now is taking measures that will mean employing fewer members of the local populace. As Minister of Technology, I have prioritized advancing technology that would improve the lives of ponies in Equestria. Princess Celestia’s former stance against technology was based on her fear of machines replacing ponies in society. This led to a long period of stagnation, but I have always believed that steps could be taken to minimize such displacement. I only wished to make citizens’ lives better, but now… now my actions have harmed them. I should have anticipated this.”

Dupon frowned.

“I am… a failure as a Minister,” she said, lowering her head, her ears drooping with an almost melancholic squeak.

“Oh, nonsense!” Dupon scoffed. “That stallion in there is the one who is putting profit before ponies, not you. And since it is just a prototype, there is no reason for you to stand by and let him do as he pleases! I cannot say what the right course of action will be, but I have spent enough time with you to see that you care for the citizens of Equestria, and you have done a marvelous job of doing so!”

Turing stared back at him for a moment. “You are very kind, Dupon,” she said quietly. “But are you certain you wish to say that? After all, our collaboration tonight is based on me attempting to prove that a machine could do the job of a detective. Is this not the same concept: replacing a pony with a machine?”

Dupon chuckled. “Well, that all depends,” he said with a smile. “After all, you haven’t cracked this case just yet, and I’m still betting that I solve it before you. If you manage to beat me to the punch, then we can talk all you like about you stealing my job.” At that, he gave her a wink.

She raised her head, her ears squeaking back into place. “I see your point, Dupon. Thank you for your reassurances. After our investigation, I will consider the matter of West Walnut’s plans and decide the best course of action. Assuming I am still employed as Minister of Technology and not taking your position at Trotland Yard.”

He smirked.

After a beat, she added, “That was a joke. Ha ha. Fat chance.”

Dupon laughed. “Yes, I gathered that,” he said. “Now then, if you would be so kind and use those ears of yours to let me know when Mr. Walnut’s done dry-heaving, we can return to our investigation.”

“Understood,” she said, raising her head, her ears twitching again.

After a few moments of silence, Dupon said, “Er… Turing Test?”

“I will let you know,” she reassured him. “Oh dear… Dupon, is it possible for a pony to turn himself inside out?”

After a few more minutes, West Walnut returned from the restroom, his mane now slick with sweat and his eyes bloodshot, and slumped back into his office chair as Turing and Dupon resumed their investigation.

“Seems I’m still not over whatever’s taken hold of me,” West Walnut said, mopping his brow.

Kato brought him a glass of water and he took a few small sips.

“That scanner of yours,” Dupon said, “does it run on its own internal power?”

“Well, I suppose it could be made to, but no, it—”

“Sir,” May Day hissed.

“Hmm?” West Walnut asked, looking around in confusion. But then he narrowed his eyes. “Oh. You’re asking if it was plugged into the hotel’s power. Because you think I set it to overload the systems, am I right?”

“We are attempting to explore different possibilities, Mr. Walnut,” Turing said. “And your scanner was plugged in the last time I observed it backstage.”

“It requires very little power compared to some of the other things at this symposium,” West Walnut scoffed. “Especially compared to that monstrosity built by your current suspect. That young lady of Vanderbull’s?”

“Gadget,” Turing said flatly.

“Whatever her name is, she’s the one with the real knowhow and the power-hungry machine at this symposium,” he said. “And besides, I came to this symposium to tout our new barcode system and possibly make a few business deals with the other ponies in attendance. Why would I sabotage this evening by blowing out the power?”

“Well, Mr. Walnut, it has come to our attention that you had a rather contentious relationship with the deceased, Mr. Beacon Bomber,” Dupon said.

“Is that so? I barely knew him,” West Walnut said, giving a shrug. “I only remembered his name once I heard he’d been killed.”

Turing narrowed her eyes. “Mr. Walnut, that is a lie,” she said.

“I beg your pardon?!”

“You had a confrontation with Sea Dweller earlier before the symposium began. She splashed water in your face, and you explained the situation like this…”

Here she vocalized his exact words in his exact voice:

“‘She was not happy to see me here, and remarked that I should be glad Beacon Bomber wasn’t here. I let her know my exact thoughts on what I thought of that rabble rouser and, as you can see, she didn’t take it very well.’”

She continued in her own voice: “In short, you did actually know his name and identified him as a ‘rabble rouser.’ Furthermore, you appeared to be displeased when I informed you that he might be arriving after all. You expressed surprise that he would be flying in, calling him a ‘washout.’”

“Ah, w-well, yes, I…” He swallowed. “I apologize, Minister, I suppose I’m not thinking clearly with this illness I’ve got going on.” He gave a sheepish grin and a look that would look more at home on a naughty puppy than an aging business tycoon. “But yes, I recall him now. He organized a lot of resistance to a proposed store near his hometown of Filly Hawk. I believed it would have been a boon to the town, but he took every effort to paint me as some money-hungry devil bent on ruining his little town.”

“His friend Sea Dweller indicated a similar sentiment.”

He scowled. “Oh, I’m certain she did,” he said. “But I’m a busy stallion, Minister, and a minor setback didn’t affect me too much. I didn’t hold any kind of personal grudge against him for it.”

Turing took a step closer to him, peering down at him with her violet eyes.

“You are lying again, Mr. Walnut,” she said.

“I beg your pardon?!” he gasped.

“You stated that you had no personal grudge against Beacon Bomber. But I believe that you are lying.”

“What, because Sea Dweller thinks so?!”

“That, and I happen to be fairly good at reading ponies.”

Dupon smirked. “She really is,” he said. “I would suggest being truthful, Mr. Walnut.”

West Walnut seemed to scrunch himself inward as Turing leaned in closer.

“Minister,” Kato said, placing a hoof on her shoulder, “would you please step back from my employer? Mr. Walnut needs some space.”

“Of course,” Turing Test said, stepping back but keeping her gaze squarely on West Walnut.

“...Fine,” he grumbled. “All right, yes: that hot-headed little townie cost me a prime location at a key tourist spot, and he made me look like a fool to boot. And I did have a plan to get back at him, if you must know, but it isn’t what you think. You see, I plan to build a store in another town just up the road. A little place called Nag’s Head.” He grinned. “And once that store goes up, it’ll siphon off business from Filly Hawk and turn that little backwater haven into a ghost town!”

The two of them stared at him. He had swiftly gone from puppy dog eyes to a grin that would look at home on a crocodile, and there was a hardness in his eyes that completely overshadowed the cordial gentlecolt he’d depicted himself to be.

“You intended to get to him by harming the thing he cared about most,” Dupon surmised. “His hometown.”

“And that was your plan before he died?” Turing asked.

“Before?” He gave a short laugh. “It’s my plan now!”

Turing tilted her head to the side. “I do not understand. He is already dead. There is no longer any target for your revenge.”

“Well, after what that town put me through, I don’t much feel like forgiving or forgetting,” West Walnut said with a shrug. “Besides, Minister,” he chuckled, “it’s just business. You understand.”

Turing’s violet eyes narrowed and she glowered down at him. She raised her hoof, about to say something, when Dupon held his foreleg out in front of her.

“That will be enough for now, Turing Test,” he said. To West Walnut, he said, “Let us put that aside and return to the events of this evening. More to the point, how do we know you didn’t decide to kill Beacon Bomber when you learned you might have the chance to do so?”

“Because even if I had wanted to - and that’s not an admission, by the way - I couldn’t!” he snapped.

“You left the ballroom shortly before the power outage and were unaccounted for during the time of the murder, Mr. Walnut.”

“Yes, but I left at the time because I was sick to my stomach! I ran straight to the bathroom and was there during the entire blackout!”

“That’s true,” said Kato. “May Day and I stood guard outside the restroom while Mr. Walnut, ah… relieved himself.”

“Exactly!” May Day added. “Though when we arrived there, that pegasus mare was just outside the restroom. She was checking to see if Mr. Walnut was all right, but we told her that we’d take it from there, and then she flew off.”

“By ‘that pegasus mare,’ you mean Rio Grand?”

“We didn’t know her name,” Kato said with a shrug.

“You mean you weren’t acquainted?” Dupon asked.

West Walnut shook his head. “Seemed a nice young lady, since she was checking on me and asking if I was all right, not that I could hear her that well outside while I was doubled over the commode. But no, I’ve never seen her before tonight.”

“Actually,” May Day said, “didn’t she fly away from the ballroom? It seems to me she might have had the opportunity to do something to Mr. Bomber.”

“We do intend to question her about her whereabouts,” Dupon said.

“Regardless of all that,” West Walnut said, “the fact remains that I was stuck in the restroom, too sick to do much of anything, let alone murder somepony!”

Dupon stroked his mustache. “Perhaps,” he said. “Though you also have some very loyal security guards. And you are a rich stallion, sir. It’s not out of the question that you could have had somepony else do the dirty work for you.”

West Walnut scowled. Then he turned to Turing Test.

“Minister, you say you are good at reading ponies, hm?” he asked. “Then why don’t you just ask me right out and just see if I’m lying.”

Turing Test paused, then gave a quizzical look at Dupon. He nodded to her.

“As you wish, sir,” Turing said. “West Walnut, did you kill Beacon Bomber?”

He smiled. “No.”

She regarded him carefully for a moment. “Did you hire or otherwise enlist someone else to kill him instead?”

He shook his head. “No, Minister, I did not,” he said.

“Your bodyguards did not act on your behalf?”

“No, ma’am.”

Kato and May Day likewise shook their heads. “No,” they said in unison.

Turing stared back at him once more.

“I see. Thank you, West Walnut,” she said, and turned to go, surprising the lot of them, Dupon included.

“Wait, what? Aren’t you going to tell the police that I’m not lying?! Because I’m not!” West Walnut shouted.

“I would prefer not to discuss my insights at this moment, West Walnut,” she said, refusing to face him as she walked out the door. “Have a pleasant evening, sir.”

Dupon shrugged and followed Turing Test out as well while West Walnut sputtered behind him.

“Now you see here, Dupon! I won’t have anypony casting aspersions on my good name, you hear?! If you falsely accuse me, I’ll have your whole department shuttered! I’ll—”

Dupon slammed the door behind him as he caught up to Turing Test.

“He’s telling the truth, isn’t he?” he whispered to her.

“...Affirmative,” she said. “Despite the image he has of himself, he is not a particularly good liar. Unless he is such a good liar that he was able to feign truthfulness in this particular case, but such an event is highly improbable and—”

“Turing,” Dupon said, putting a hoof on her shoulder. “A simple ‘yes’ - or ‘affirmative’ in your case - will suffice.”

She shook her head. “I wish I could trust my senses in this case with perfect accuracy. However, the very fact that I so greatly misjudged West Walnut’s character indicates that my perception of others is more fallible than I comprehended. In his correspondence with me and the way he portrayed himself through his stores’ media, he gave the appearance of kindness and friendliness. I had believed that he was a businesspony of character, and therefore readily accepted his application to attend the symposium. But that perception was fraudulent. He is… not a good person.”

Dupon clicked his tongue. “No,” he said. “He’s quite an unpleasant one. I’d also read articles that painted him as a humble, down-to-earth businesspony. ‘Big time store, small town values,’ that sort of thing. But it seems that beneath that genteel exterior, he’s quite ruthless.”

“Regardless of his suboptimal levels of ruth,” Turing said, “I see no reason to believe that he killed Beacon Bomber.”

“Perhaps not.” Then he chuckled. “Still… that was rather devious of you, leaving him in suspense as to whether you believed him or not.”

“Ordinarily, I do not wish to unnecessarily distress ponies by misleading them,” Turing said. Then she gave an electronic wink of her LED eye. “But in West Walnut’s case, he can bite my shiny metal flank.”

Dupon burst into laughter. “Bravo, Turing!” he exclaimed. “Ah, but still, we have more ponies to investigate. I propose that we—”

“Inspector! Minister!”

They both raised their heads as one of the police officers came running over.

“Yes, Constable?” Dupon asked. “What seems to be the trouble?”

“It’s Chef White Heat, sir!” the constable managed to say as he caught his breath. “He’s run out of patience and is demanding to speak with you both immediately! Says it’s a matter of grave injustice, and he won’t let it stand any longer!”

Dupon raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?” he asked slowly.

“Yes, Inspector. Chief Inspector Neightstrad went to calm him down, but that just riled him up even more!”

Dupon chuckled, giving a sideways glance at Turing Test. “Well, we can’t have that, can we, Minister?” he asked.

“It would seem that we cannot,” she replied. “Shall we interview him next?”

“Well, right after a short stop along the way,” Dupon said, gesturing for her to follow.

Back in the ballroom, the kitchen and various hotel staff members were seated where the symposium attendees had all been a few hours ago as a few officers, Neighstrad included, stood by.

White Heat, a gray unicorn stallion with a messy black mane and tail wearing a pristine white double-breasted chef’s jacket, stormed over to Dupon and Turing Test as they entered.

“Right, I see you’ve finally decided to grace us with your fcking presence,” he said, and though his voice was calm, it somehow had the effect of sounding like a shout.

“Our apologies, Chef White Heat,” Turing Test said, raising a hoof. “Inspector Dupon and I have something to investigate first.”

He paused and gave them both a very hard stare and clicked his tongue as though he were a disapproving parent addressing a naughty foal. “Well, it seems you’ll just keep us waiting while you both fck about, then. I expected better. Of you both.”

To Turing’s surprise, she actually heard Dupon’s heart rate increase dramatically and he increased his pace, tipping his hat quickly to the chef as they made their way up the stairs to the backstage area.

The darkened room was still filled with all the different inventions that the symposium members had brought. They were scattered about the room, but a few of them were plugged into the outlets at the back wall, including Gadget’s Piezoforte and, as Turing pointed out, West Walnut’s barcode scanning checkout counter.

The counter had a conveyor belt that would lead groceries over to a panel made of glass through which they both spied the inner workings of some device. Presumably, this is where the scanner would read the barcode of various items. Behind the counter were several different goods with barcodes applied, presumably for the purpose of demonstrating the checkout counter’s abilities.

“So this is the device that West Walnut was raving about?” Dupon asked. “I must say, I was expecting something a bit more flashy.”

“Actually, were I to ignore the potential impact on his employees,” Turing said, “the design is quite elegant in its efficiency. There is no cash register, but this counter here would tabulate the total for a potential customer and prompt them to insert the correct number of bits. It could even offer change for payment in excess of the total. I believe that most customers would quickly learn how to use this device. It is admittedly impressive.”

Dupon nodded. “I suppose it is,” he said. “Still, the question remains: could this device have been used to cause the power surge?”

“One moment,” Turing said.

She went around to the back of the machine and opened the access panel, peering inside at the machinery.

“Examining wattage… wiring is above standard requirements… no internal power source detected…”

She shook her head and stood up.

“Dupon, I do not believe that this device could have caused the power surge. It appears that West Walnut was truthful in his assertion.”

“I see,” Dupon sighed. “Well, no matter.”

He turned to walk away when he froze as a thought struck him.

“Turing… this device is plugged in, correct?”

Turing nodded.

“Then could you activate it? Just to check its functionality?”

“I believe so,” she said. She located the power switch and flipped it to the “ON” position…

And the machine was still.

“Curious… it does not appear to be activated,” she said. “I detect no signal from the scanning device and the conveyor belt remains nonfunctional. This scanner is malfunctioning.”

Dupon frowned. “Then it was also damaged by the power surge?” he asked.

Turing tapped her chin. “Most likely,” she replied. “The power surge was of sufficient strength to damage the lighting system in the ballroom, and various other lights throughout the hotel seem affected as well.”

“What about the other devices around us?” Dupon asked.

“Just a moment,” Turing said, and went to each of the devices that were plugged into the outlet. Each one, she realized, was also broken, including Gadget’s.

“And of all these devices, which might be capable of causing the power surge?” Dupon asked.

“I am uncertain,” she replied. “I was given the technical specifications for several of these devices before the symposium, but not all of them. Shall I inspect each one?”

“I believe we must,” he said.

Turing obliged and checked the machinery of each one. And when they at last came to Gadget’s musical invention, she lingered for much longer than she had for the others.

“Turing?” Dupon asked. And when he got no response, he asked, “Minister?”

Turing raised her head.

“Dupon… Gadget is a very enthusiastic young mare…”

“Turing?” Dupon asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Such that her zeal for design often blinds her to matters of practicality. In such a situation, it is reasonable that she would—”

“Turing Test,” Dupon said quietly, but with a firmness that gave her pause. “What did you find?”

“...Gadget’s invention is very innovative,” she began. “However, its wattage is inefficient and the wiring is unnecessarily convoluted. Under the right circumstances - or more accurately, the wrong circumstances - her invention…”

Dupon narrowed his eyes.

“...is indeed capable of producing a power surge,” she finished quietly. “It would not be easy to do so purposefully, given its setup, but Gadget’s knowledge of the electrical system for the hotel it is still possible that she could have done so.”

Dupon sighed. “And that would make her invention the only device capable of doing so, correct?”

Turing said nothing but nodded once, briefly.

“That is unfortunate,” Dupon said.

“However!” Turing said, raising her head suddenly. “We are assuming that the power outage was caused deliberately for the purpose of committing Beacon Bomber’s murder! It is possible that Gadget may have inadvertently caused the power outage, and the murder was merely incidental!”

Dupon continued to stare at her. “That is indeed one possibility,” he said.

“Dupon… I…”

“I said it is a possibility, and I meant that,” Dupon said, holding up a hoof. “But remember what I asked of you earlier: regardless of how unpleasant you find it, you must abide by the truth we discover in our investigation. This may harm Gadget’s case, but it is the truth, and we cannot ignore it.”

Turing bowed her head. “Affirmative,” she said.

“Then let us simply take this for what it is,” Dupon said.

The two of them were about to leave the backstage area when Dupon paused for a moment.

“While we are here, and before we endure whatever it is that Chef White Heat has to say,” he said, “perhaps you could point out the inventions of our other potential suspects?”

Turing nodded. “Certainly,” she said.

She pointed to the insectoid probe built by Sea Dweller, which was resting in the dry, sandy bottom of a large aquarium tank. At the other end of the tank was a small metal boat with a hole in it.

“So she intended to fill it with water and demonstrate how the probe could recover items for salvage?”

“That is what her application and technical specification indicated,” Turing replied. “It is also consistent with what she told us during our interrogation.”

“It would seem so,” he said, peering at the small robotic device. “And this is not connected to the power grid? And was not connected to it before the outage?”

Turing shook her head. “I observed her disconnecting it from the power after charging it,” she said. “It could not have caused the power surge.”

“And what of Rio Grand’s?” he asked. “Could you point that out?”

Turing obliged and led him to a table which contained a topographic map of an area in Neigh Mexicolt. A model dam stood out prominently from the map, and a large tank of water was suspended above the left corner. Turing turned a switch and water began to trickle from the container, filling the artificial river that ran down the center of the map. The water flowed through the model dam, turning the miniature turbines inside and causing the lights in the model towns nearby to all light up.

“Well, it’s… functional, I suppose,” Dupon said. “Not very impressive, though.”

“Agreed,” Turing said. “As Minister of Technology, I have attended a significant number of school science fairs, and I have seen several displays by school children that were more technically impressive than this.”

She briefly reflected on the plethora of baking soda volcanos and potato batteries she’d seen.

“Perhaps Ms. Grand was counting on her speech to carry most of the weight of her argument,” Dupon said. “She seems to have been quite the hometown hero with no shortage of influence, not unlike the late Beacon Bomber, so perhaps she had a charismatic speech prepared to extoll the virtues of a hydroelectric dam.”

“Perhaps,” Turing agreed. “However, this device required no connection to the electrical systems of the hotel. Therefore, it also could not have caused the power surge. It does not even produce the necessary voltage to do so.”

“I see,” Dupon said, furrowing his brow.

“Is there anything further that we should investigate here, Inspector Dupon?” Turing asked.

Dupon shook his head. “No, I believe that will suffice for now,” he said. Then he took a deep breath, drawing himself up. “Well then, Turing, shall we go see what White Heat has to say?”

“Affirmative,” Turing said. “Though I suspect he will begin by accusing us of wasting his fking time…”

To be continued…

Author's Note

Illustration of West Walnut by Colby “Greenfinger” Green.