The Inquest

It was probably to the surprise of everyone, including the detective himself, that Onew was rather early for the inquest the following morning. After upending his wardrobe, and discovering in the process, eight pieces of mouldy toast, a dagger from Persia, a frilly evening gown from a memorable adventure where they’d all been forced to dress as women, and a strange contraption he’d built that did nothing except make chicken blue, he’d found his alarm clock.

It would be an interesting morning.

As the sun rose slowly over the city, he pulled his covers carefully over his head. There was the thud of Eugene opening the bedroom door. Water sloshed in the metal bucket in her hands. Onew lay perfectly still, keeping his breathing even. Closer…closer… His housekeeper loomed threateningly over him, cold shower waiting. The bucket tipped…

Onew leapt. The bucket and its contents fell onto Eugene’s head, drenching her. She screamed bloody murder. Onew raced out of the room, cackling like a maniac. Behind him he saw his housekeeper, sopping wet, dark hair plastered to her face, and a face that suggested that not even God himself could stop her from wringing his neck.

“Mr Onew! I’ll have your head for this!”

Oh yes, it would be an interesting morning.

Baekhyun had the most startled expression on his face as he held the door open to the beaming man, as Onew cheerfully remarked that punctuality was rather something that was falling out of fashion nowadays, and it was good that he held himself to such a high standards and was constantly prompt, wouldn’t you say?

Baekhyun did not have time to contradict this blatant lie because Onew had graciously let himself in, hung his hat and coat on the rack, and said to the sputtering butler, “I rather think I’d like to walk about the estate and rooms.”

“But sir, it is most –”

“Excellent! I knew we would see eye-to-eye!”

And then he went on his merry way, leaving Baekhyun with the expression that they were about to be robbed of house and home.

Not, Onew reflected, whistling to himself as he passed down the hallways, that he could fit the house into his coat pocket regardless. What an odd little saying. As he passed by an open doorway, he caught the sharp, scowling face of Oh Sehun. He waved, his smile sharp as a razor blade, and continued on. There were many little ideas that he had, but for the moment, they would need time. Still, he did not have a clear picture. And in his experience, the best things you learnt were by showing unannounced. Odd Eye had not technically been invited to the inquest, but Onew had made it clear to his colleagues that they were going regardless.

As he meandered through the large, sweeping mansion, he decided to pop into the kitchens. This was obviously because Do Kyungsoo had established himself as suspicious. Not to mention there could be cakes, pastries and meat in dire need of investigation.

There, he found Kim Jongin trying to plead food out of an obstinate Kyungsoo. The boy was using a cane to walk, he noted. “I’m really hungry. Doctor Zhang said it’s good for me to eat a lot to recover!” Jongin insisted, fingers inching towards a chicken prepared for lunch.

Kyungsoo swatted them away, not even looking up from his work. He shook his head. “No, he didn’t.”

It was such a break from his flat, mechanical speech the day before that Onew started. “You don’t know that…”

The cook waved a hand at him as he expertly diced vegetables. “Doctor Zhang gave specific lists of food for you.”

Jongin pouted. “Think of it as…a friendly suggestion!”

 “No.”

The pout deepened. Kyungsoo gave a long sigh, grabbing a knife and slicing off a thin section. Jongin pounced on it immediately, as Kyungsoo watched with a mixture of amusement and disgust. “Any more and you’ll ruin your appetite.”

“Thank you, mother,” Jongin joked. Kyungsoo rolled his eyes and whacked him lightly on the forehead with a spatula.

“Mean it – no more.”

Sensing that he was intruding on a friendship he was not invited to, Onew retreated quietly, filing the moment away for further inspection. Carrying on, he stopped, ducking into a small alcove with a window to the garden. Several meters from him, Baekhyun was dusting some of the photographs displayed on a table in the corridor. Minseok was with him, arms folded and chipmunk cheeks puffed up. “So you’ll be leaving once all has been settled?” Baekhyun was saying.

Onew pressed his back against the wall, straining to hear. “Yes. Mr Kim is a fair boss but – I’ve had quite enough. Secretarial work no longer interests me.”

“Unlucky that you always end up leaving when a scandal erupts.” Baekhyun’s tone was goading.

Minseok was decidedly unimpressed with the man's attempts to pry. “There was hardly a scandal. That dreadful Chaerin woman found out that gaudy necklace of hers was paste. Threw a fit, insisting it had been stolen. Knowing that kind of woman, she was probably duped to buy a paste one and didn’t want to admit the truth.”

Onew pressed his fingers to his lips. Yes, he recalled reading of what had occurred at MADE Industries several years ago. Coincidental, certainly, that Minseok had been present at the time. “True enough. You’ll miss us when you’re gone, Minseok.”

“I doubt it.”

“You wound me.”

“Onew, what are you doing here?”

Onew’s head whacked into the wall. Whimpering, he looked up to see Jonghyun standing in front of him, head tilted in confusion. Baekhyun and Minseok’s voice had disappeared, and he cursed under his breath. Jonghyun noticed his harsh gaze, and raised his eyebrows, glancing around wildly. “Ah…research!” Onew said hastily, composing himself. “Has everyone arrived?”

Jonghyun nodded, giving him a searching look. “I just need to get Oh Sehun’s fingerprints, and then everyone present that night will have been sampled. I’ve gotten the fingerprints off the pistol, and I’ll be comparing them to everyone’s in the household.”

He held up a photograph of the pistol’s grip, with the fingerprints clearly visible, smiling proudly. Onew frowned suddenly, tilting his head. There was something niggling him here, and then it twigged.

“Do you have Yifan’s fingerprints?” he asked abruptly, making Jonghyun blink.

“Well no – we’ve ruled out suicide, haven’t we?”

“Jonghyun, you are better versed in firearms than I am, but would you say the grip – it is natural?”

Jonghyun frowned, his eyes widening as he considered this angle. “Perhaps if you were a novice – but even then… Unless, the murderer wrapped Yifan’s fingers around the gun after his death!”

“That was I am thinking,” Onew agreed, as Jonghyun slapped his palm onto his face, turning on his heel towards the studio.

“They’ll be some prints left on his paintbrushes…” he muttered, as Onew trailed after him. “I knew it was too easy! Kibum wins this round.”

“It would never be so easy,” Onew murmured, half to himself, “No, they were not stupid, whoever they were.”

Odd Eye regrouped in front of Junmyeon’s office, where the official sent to conduct the inquest was residing. Minho reached for the doorknob, but Onew caught his hand, raising a finger to his lips. Jonghyun, who was sulking furiously as Key dismissed the importance of physical clues, fell silent.

Two voices could be heard from within the room. The first was immediately obvious as that of Kim Junmyeon. The second – Odd Eye, aside from Taemin, who appeared clueless, as always, exchanged surprised glances. Immediately, the group clustered around the keyhole to listen, shoving each other until they were as comfortable as one could possibly be with Minho’s elbow in his gut and Key’s hand on his face.

Shim Changmin was a renowned lawyer who they had tangled with on multiple occasions, well regarded for his ability t