Detective Death

4: Murder Mystery Party

CWs/TWs: mentioned/referenced suicide, murder attempt, ableism

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"What do you mean?" Pearl muttered, in shock. She didn't believe it at all.

"He killed himself," Maymerry repeated, sniffling, her cheeks all red and her eyes puffy, "because he couldn't live with himself." She lowered and shook her head. "Not after the terrible thing he did..."

Pearl furrowed her eyebrows, her curiousity piqued. She leaned forward and rested her weight on the table. "What did he do exactly?" she asked, but Ms. Maymerry didn't answer. "Ms. Maymerry, look at me."

Maymerry sobbed and looked up at Pearl.

"What did Mr. Thompson do that made him kill himself?"

She kept quiet.

Pearl narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Did Conner Thompson kill the Estels?"

"Oh, heavens, no!" Maymerry exclaimed, shaking her head. Pearl had barely gotten the question out before Maymerry had responded. "My dear Conner would never hurt a fly!" She paused and glanced away, taking a shaky breath. "But he... he did have something to do with it..." Pearl expected her to go on, but she closed her mouth and lowered her head again.

Pearl sighed. "Ms. Maymerry," she said, "this is not the time to create suspense. This is a serious case, and I need you to tell me what Mr. Thompson had to do with the murders."

Ms. Maymerry mumbled something that Pearl couldn't hear, then cleared her throat and repeated it louder.

Pearl's eyes widened as the information processed in her mind. She was dumbfounded.

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Grian yawned as he walked out of the elevator into the hallway on the ground floor, stretching out his wing as far as he could without breaking a light. He was exhausted from sleeping all day, not to mention starving, and he felt a lot better physically so he went to the dining hall to grab something to eat.

"Hey, look, it's G," Impulse said, pointing to the small avian man, and Scar and Mumbo both turned to smile at him. The three of them were standing around a table covered in open case files with notes written in all of their handwritings.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," Mumbo said, Grian smiling awkwardly in return. "Are you feeling better?"

Grian nodded as he approached the table. "Yeah, but I'm still sleepy..."

Scar blinked when he caught movement out of his peripheral vision, and he looked above Grian to see a chandelier swinging. It dropped a bit and Scar gasped. "Grian, watch out!" he shouted, then came barrelling toward the smaller man, tackling him to the ground and mostly out of the way of the falling chandelier, all just in the nick of time. "Are you-" He winced when Grian began to punch him. "Wha-"

"Off, off!" Grian squealed, pushing Scar away.

Scar nodded and clambered off of the other detective, just noticing how Grian had landed on his bent-backward wing. He grimaced at the thought of how much it probably hurt. "Sorry," he apologised, "I just didn't want you to be crushed by that ch- chan... chande- chande-liar?"

Impulse snorted. "Chandelier," he corrected Scar.

"Whatever!"

Grian glanced at the chandelier, which had still landed on his foot even after Scar shoved him out of the way, shards of glass stuck in his ankle. He made a pained face. "Ouch."