The lone resident, the solitary watcher, that shifter sifter of truth, had left his post. Temporarily. Taken up a winter residence. In a cocoon of blankets in the corner. A good working environment was...you see, vigilance wasn’t the only...and...there’s advantages to...
“What’s the use?” Summer groused into his steaming, fifth cup of coffee. “Nobody can hear me. Winter’s coming on fast. I’m not made of love. And I won’t get any more hanging around here. It’s unfair. You can’t expect gold from straw. Krrkkk, straw would be an improvement. A case without evidence? No better than a gut feeling. It’s a waste of my time. It’s a waste of my energy. And nobody cares.”
The feed’d been quiet. Bursts of activity here and there, but quieter than before. Even sharing their findings, the guests knew. In a day - maybe less - they’d come together for a decision. Maybe their last. Find the killer, or be trapped forever. He wondered, would there be a feed tomorrow? Swirling shadows, where once he’d seen a manor and a few frightened ponies?
Or would they leave nothing behind?
“Fine.” Summer stood on shivering legs and trudged to his chair, blankets wrapped tight around him. “But don’t expect miracles.”
(Investigator’s Note: “If you want to spare both of us the trouble: This wasn’t an exorcism or a charm spell. The house itself killed the Host. The book somehow broke the deal between the Host and the entity in this place. Though I don’t have any hard evidence, based on what suspects have said in the investigation, their character, and their relationships, I suspect Hex.)
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“First; how’d the Host die? You don’t have a cause of death, you don’t have a case. What do we have? No signs of external injury, traces of magic on the body. And contrary to popular belief,” he scowled into his mug. “No, it wasn’t an exorcism, and no, it wasn’t a charm spell. Rules are clear; guests can only use telekinesis, teleportation, and charms. Magical exorcisms not allowed.”
Could you exorcise the cold? Is that a spell that exists? Worth looking into later.
“As for the charm, we know what a charm looks like. We know what all types of magic look like, and this? This isn’t any magic a guest can use. But it’s magic we’ve seen before and I’m too tired to set this up properly it’s the house. It’s the house’s magic. The same shadows that execute the convicted are on the Host’s body, coming from that mark. Same mark that’s on the book. So no, it’s not an exorcism book. What is it?”
Summer threw his hooves up.
“Don’t ask me, I don’t have it in front of me. Best guess? Whatever’s in that book violates the deal between the Host and this place. A guest reads it in front of the Host, the house renders the deal null and void, the house renders the Host null and void. Which is why nobody’s seen the Host’s ghost floating around the place.”
“That’s how the victim died. But somebody had to set it all off. Who had the opportunity?” He spent a few moments searching for his props. He realized that fetching his props would probably require leaving his nest of blankets. He decided to forgo the props. “I can tell you one thing; the killer has a terrible alibi. Easy math. The murderer has to be one of the guests. All the guests have terrible alibis. Therefore, the murderer has a terrible alibi.”
“...seriously, what are they teaching you all in schools nowadays?” He sighed deeply. “Every single one of them had a window of time where you were unaccompanied and/or unaccounted for. And with a body that’s been ‘dead’ for some time, you need an airtight cover story that lasts at least several hours! At least!”
“Oh, and the best part? The best part?” He slammed his mug down on the table. “Everybody has a motive. The Host trapped them all here and had a hand in the death of their friends, what do you expect? That they’d want him over for tea?!”
Summer glared daggers into the feed, panting for breath. Well. If they couldn’t hear him over there, maybe somebody would’ve heard all that shouting. He lifted his mug to his lips. Paused. Upturned it. Gave it a shake.
Bone dry.
“And that’s that.” He slumped back in his chair. “There’s really not much hard evidence to go off of. We’ve got a mess of personal histories, shaky alibis, and motives under every rock. I can’t point to a single thing that could cleanly wrap up this case. Not enough to stake lives on.”
“But…”
He gave a wan smile.
“...I have some suspicions.”
And found a little strength in his spine.
“It’s most likely the book was found in the Library. Only Hex and Summer frequented the Library. If it was found there, it was one of them. If it was used, it was one of them, or a trusted friend. Of the remaining guests, Hex was good friends with Peach, and Summer was close to Angel. Reese and Ariace are the odd men out, socially. We can discount them.”
“That leaves us with Hex, Summer, Peach, or Angel.” In a warmer climate, he’d have stopped and triple-checked his guesses. In this cold, he couldn’t afford to. He paused, all the same. “...of the four of them, I think Hex is the most likely suspect.”
“My strongest reason is the investigation itself. Hex was quick to call the magic a charm spell, when it was anything but. He claimed the book allowed anyone to cast said charm, which kept the suspect list broad. He was quick to push the magical exorcism theory, when magical exorcisms were impossible. None of these look innocent to me.”
“There’s a number of weaker threads that support the theory. The position of the body suggests the Host fell over dead from a standing position. No struggle. The position of the book has the reader - our killer - across the table from him. It suggests the Host was speaking with his killer when the moment came. Hex has the spite for that.”
“Hex is also careful and methodical. He wouldn’t have killed anyone without an alibi to cover himself, and he wouldn’t have left more evidence than necessary. Peach would’ve been willing to vouch for his friend if it meant getting a wish for the dead. By the time Angel arrived in the ballroom, the deed would’ve already been done. The lack of evidence, again, fits his style.”
“That’s Hex. And the others?” Summer suppressed a shiver. Just a little longer. Just a little longer. “Peach, I don’t think he’s physically or emotionally up to this. Corroborating an alibi is about the most he could do. Summer discovered the body, but she discovered it as part of her routine. From past cases, we know she visits the library in the evenings for fresh books. And if she could set up such a clue-less case, why’d she forget to give herself a good alibi? And if Summer’s not involved, Angel’s not involved.”
“So...that’s it. Process of elimination, a slightly fishy investigation, and a gut read on a pony’s character. That’s all I’ve got.” He half rose, half fell out of his chair. Shook himself awake. Stiffly nodded. “It’s up to you now. Best of luck.” Slowly, painfully, one frozen leg after the other, he made for the door.
And stopped.
“If I was feeling bold…” He continued, face to the cold dark. “I’d say that the killer made a deal for the book. Everybody’s talking, so there weren’t any deals struck for lethal items. Books aren’t designed to kill, counts as non-lethal item, killer’s still able to talk. It’d explain why there’s no telekinesis on the book; the Host can’t use any magic with that broken horn. It’d explain how a guest stumbled on such a dangerous tome; if the Host brought the book from elsewhere, the killer could’ve arranged the shelves to appear as though they’d found it in Library. It’d explain the scene as we found it. The Host collected the book, stood calmly across the table from their killer, passed it over where they could read it, then fell over dead. What’s left unanswered in the crime scene, the theory explains it. Rather neatly."
"...I’m not feeling bold nor my hooves, so I won’t say it. But if I did? Then I’d also say there’s few suspects who’ve displayed that level of forethought and cunning. And the spite necessary to make someone fetch their own noose."
