LUMM 1: Die a Horrid Death, Arlo Crowhaven

10 | crowns & clues

"Carriages and smudges, indeed," I muttered with a smile. Let Ethan think this was mere child's play. A more serious one with lives at stake, maybe, but still was. I faced Ethan again, giving him the attention he craved from me. "Let's start from the infirmary, shall we? Mrs. Lemorpha revealed the stock for sleeping draught has been mismatched since the murders started, and it isn't a far leap to realize where and how they are being used. The culprit couldn't have been a grown man, or he wouldn't resort to knocking out his victims before delivering the final blow. He also couldn't leave signs of resistance because he had a specific goal in mind—to frame the inventor of the Idea Vial as a criminal peddling murderous substances. They all need to look like suicides, brought about by the frenzy of the potion."

I paused, regaining my breath. It was like giving a lecture to a person who mastered the topic at hand. Ethan edged farther from the bell, but made no move to approach me. Wary. We were both wary of each other. "You are a direct Instrumentation Credence student—that's how you're able to complete the list of scholarship students in the program even with a short deadline. And if you're as determined as me, you studied how to bypass school systems, including the one in the infirmary..." I narrowed my eyes. "And the decorative knives in the Theater Annex's gallery."

Because that night in the dressing room, he couldn't cut off the stage lights' ropes with his weapon of choice hidden in the basement, and he couldn't use magic since every spell could be tracked by investigators.

"For a successful murder and blame-dusting, you need something that will hide you from the public eye as well as make you appear unsuspecting to your victims," I continued. "So, you dressed up as a girl from our university, sneaking into the dressing rooms while the girls were rehearsing. They go home past curfew too, and the university turns a blind eye. That's how you're able to move freely in the grounds, and how you know the quickest way from the SPA Cluster and the HC."

Ethan was yet to make a rebuttal, but seeing him as mum as a foal, I was on the right track. I squinted at his frame and confirmed my reasoning. His head was smaller than Horace's, and with him standing a head shorter, he was maybe as tall as Alyson and some of the girls in the Theater Annex. "And when you went to splatter blood on the carriage you knew I used, I suppose you got a little carried away," I said. "You splattered blood from your unfortunate victim all over the windows and aimed for the top to...say, give it a spilling effect. You forgot to remove the coat, and the pin's felt tip brushed some of the blood off."

The memory of that morning flashed in my mind. Smudge on the lower right, right by the dead lamp. It was also possible for him to have grabbed the sconces to haul himself up, resulting in that specific swathe. "Of course, you never return what you stole from the dressing room, creating a problem for our dear Alyson who had to scrub your mess from the start."

"Then comes Horace Prescott's murder." I glanced through the window, distracted by a flock of migratory birds zipping across the blue and cloudless sky. The morning sun shone brightly across the spire, throwing my shadow pointing towards Ethan's. "You aimed to bring home the point—that Ranacrys and I are one person, so you clocked Horace somewhere in the halls, I assume as he relieved himself, and dragged him to his death. After you pushed him off the stage lights, perhaps some of the girls came back from rehearsals, causing you to hurriedly tear off your disguise and scamper off. Uncharacteristic to its kind, the pin popped off, and the rest is history."

I crossed my arms and shifted my weight from one foot to another. My legs were still sore from the climb up, while Ethan looked unfazed by the height at all. As if he was too exhilarated to mind it. Why? "Yesterday, when I caught you threatening Alyson into staying quiet, I only needed the last confirmation."

Ethan clapped his hands together, catching up to my logic. "That's why you asked me for a compilation of the scholarship students," he said. "You need to look at my handwriting without alerting me."