Karaoke Turnabout

(OOC: Because it's a cooler name than AWANP and more relevant. Also, credit to Gosho Aoyama.)

Franziska and Lang followed the detective back to a private room that was set up for karaoke when another cop stopped them. “Hold it. Past here is a crime scene.”

Franziska already had her pocketbook out and was flashing her prosecutor’s badge and ID. “I am Franziska von Karma, prosecutor. This is my assisting investigator, Shi-Long Lang. You will let us through.”

Gumshoe turned at the sound of her voice. “Hey, Ms. von Karma! Wow, I guess things’ll really get solved with you here!”

“You should be able to solve cases without me, detective,” she said icily, breezing into the room. Though thank God he couldn't. Franziska hadn't done real work in ages.

Lang followed after Franziska, chuckling at her audacity. An officer stepped up to him as well, though this one looked a bit more hesitant. "Sir... The two of you have been drinking... We really shouldn't..."

But Lang bulldozed over him. "If it'll make you feel better, you can dispose of what's left of my drink," he dismissed the officer, handing him the drink and leaving him baffled. "So what do we got here?" he asked the detective.

Gumshoe’s face twisted as he recalled the details. “This was an after party for the band ‘Lex’. They’re on tour right now, and had a pretty good show tonight. It was the guitarist, Bella Shelton; drummer, Keith Yanni; vocalist, Taylor Kennedy; and their manager, Mary Thomas. Taylor Kennedy is the victim. His band mates have already stated that he was drinking heavily and being belligerent all evening. Apparently, he requested a karaoke song for each of them to make fun of them. Lex's song "Goodbye" for Shelton, the woman scorned. The theme to a kids’ cartoon for Yanni, always second best. And "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer" for Thomas.

“Kennedy’s signature song came on, so he got up to sing it. Afterwards, he sat down to eat a rice ball, and suddenly coughed up blood and collapsed. Forensics has already found that the cause of death was poisoning by potassium cyanide. Traces were found on his right hand and the left elbow of his sleeve. Right now, the three other band members, as well as the club manager, George Sumii, are being treated as suspects.”

Franziska nodded, mentally organizing all the information. “Anything else we should know about the victim or suspects?”

“Well,” Gumshoe shrugged, “I guess that the victim was planning on going solo after this tour ended.”

Franziska glanced around the room. Matching band jackets for all the members, a stage with microphone and screen for karaoke and a band jacket tossed to the side, three sofas arranged in a partial square around a low table laden with food - pizza, sandwiches, vegetable trays, the offending rice balls - an ashtray with a few cigarette butts, and a pack of cigarettes. “Who smokes?” she asked.

Gumshoe answered, “The victim did.”

Lang listened closely, also looking around the room. "It could be argued that they all have motive, and even a method for the club manager," he said to Franziska. "It'd be faster to arrest them all now and sort it out in court."

"Would it?" Franziska asked, raising an eyebrow. "One night of investigation compared to four trials, three of them of innocent suspects? And the investigation would have to happen anyway to collect the necessary evidence."

"Grr...! Fine..." Lang scowled. He looked over to the suspects and selected one. "Ms. Bella Shelton! Why don't you tell us tonight's timeline?"

(OOC: So much exposition!)

Bella Shelton was a thin girl with dark short-cropped hair and long bleached bangs. She was trembling but composed as she approached them and nodded. "Y-yes, sir. The party started off well enough, we were all really pumped because we had such a good show earlier. We all took a few rounds selecting karaoke songs for ourselves, and things were fun. But Taylor had been drinking and became really mean. He started calling the band crap, saying he was going to be so much more successful once he went solo.

“Then he requested the kids’ show theme for Keith, said that just like the sidekick in the show, Keith couldn’t do anything without Taylor. While he was singing, the manager came in with the food. Then Mary’s song came on. Taylor was being mean about it, but we’re not sure how “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer” was supposed to be insulting, and for a moment while she was singing, Taylor looked really sad. Then he requested “Goodbye” for me because he knows I’ve been the most upset about him leaving, and I couldn’t help but cry during it. I don't think I even need to say that he insulted me for that.

“After that, it was time for us to leave, but Taylor’s hit song “Bloody Venus” came on. Mary made a stink about having to dig her address book out of her coat and go call the studio that we’d be late. Taylor sang his song just like he always does, and after, he asked Keith to pass him a rice ball, and as he was eating it was when he…!” Shelton choked up and her hand flew to her mouth.

“If it was the rice ball that killed him,” Gumshoe exclaimed angrily, pointing to his suspect, “then the murderer must be you, the club manager who brought the food! And I heard you used to be band mates with the victim so I bet you were jealous of him and poisoned his food.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, detective,” Franziska dismissed, picking up a rice ball and taking a bite out of it herself. “The food is set out to be eaten communally, and Kennedy was the only one killed.”

(OOC: Well, then, allow me to take some of that off your shoulders!)

“But Yanni handed the victim his last rice ball, didn't he?” Lang suggested.

“I did,” Yanni admitted. The drummer was a broad man with long hair, a bandanna, and sunglasses. The only thing odd about him was that he wore sunglasses indoors at night.

Gumshoe pounced. “Then you poisoned it as you passed it to him, pal!”

“But Taylor asked me to pass it!” Yanni protested. “How could I have known he would do that?!”

“This is getting us nowhere,” Lang growled, pulling Gumshoe back by the collar of his coat. “We know that the poison is fairly fast acting and that the victim had been eating all night. So we can safely assume that the poison was introduced to him at some point between when he got up to sing and his death. Now, George Sumii was in the kitchen at the time, and Mary Thomas was out in the hall making a call, so they have alibis. That just leaves Bella Shelton and Keith Yanni as suspects.”

“But I didn’t poison his food!” Yanni insisted.

A forensics worker appeared and whispered something to Lang, then went back to work.

“You didn’t have to poison the food,” Lang smirked. “And it looks like you're off the hook. Poison was found on the microphone. The only way the microphone could be poisoned without anyone else dying is if the mic was poisoned just before Kennedy sang. And the only person who could’ve done that is Shelton who sang just before the victim! You were crying during that song, weren't you? Maybe you took it personally because you felt he was saying goodbye to you specifically. Maybe the two of you were more than just band mates but he had dumped you? Maybe you were crying at the knowledge that you were about to take a human life!”

“Agent…!” Thomas cried, embracing Shelton defensively. “How could you be so disrespectful?!”

Shelton was thoroughly mortified, but she still defended herself. “He didn’t dump me! I… I approached Taylor myself, but he turned me down… He said he was already in love. She had gone away, but he was waiting for her, and would wait his entire life…”

“But he did turn you down,” Lang pressed, “which has been motive enough for murder for plenty of others.”

Thomas spoke up again. “But Taylor requested Bella’s song. She couldn’t have known that she would sing just before him.”

“But who requested Kennedy’s song?” Franziska posed. “No one’s said, just that his song came on and he insisted on singing it.”

Yanni shrugged. “He might have put it in himself and forgotten. He was really drunk.”

Things as they were now weren’t adding up. There had to be more pieces to the puzzle. Just then, a police officer burst in, holding an evidence bag containing what appeared to be a jar of lotion. “Detective! We found the victim’s car outside, and this was in it!”

“Hunh? Lotion?” Gumshoe was thoroughly confused, so Franziska relieved him of the evidence.

Gingerly, she unscrewed the lid with a handkerchief from her pocketbook and sniffed the cream. Almonds. “Smell that?” she asked, holding the jar out to Lang.

Lang bent down to take a sniff. "Yep," he agreed. "Potassium cyanide. But it was in the victim's car?"

"That suggests suicide," Franziska thought aloud. "And it is much easier to poison oneself inconspicuously than to poison someone else..."

"You three!" Lang barked to a group of police officers. "Go search the victim's apartment and office for anything indicating suicide!" If it was, then it was planned, and there would be evidence of that, maybe even a note.

Franziska continued to think aloud. “But the victim was preparing for a promising solo career and planning for the future, which is very unusual for a suicide. And why in front of everyone? And why put the poison on his hand instead of ingesting it directly? Something’s still missing from the scene, as well, though perhaps the sad expression the others said he wore during Thomas’s song was the face of a man resolved to kill himself…”

“What on Earth…?” Lang growled. A few officers had turned on a television set up against the far wall in the corner. The news was already running a story on Kennedy’s death. A bit of concert footage was playing, and at the intro of a song, Kennedy removed his jacket, tossing it behind him - just like the jacket on the karaoke stage - then crossed his arms. "Watching the news in the middle of an investigation...?"

“What song is that?” Franziska asked Thomas who was also watching.

“That’s “Bloody Venus”,” she explained.

“And did Kennedy do the same dance every time he sang the song?”

“Of course, it’s his signature.”

Franziska watched a moment longer as she put two and two together. A smile tugged at her lips. Things were falling into place. “Detective, where was poison found?”

“Uhm,” his face scrunched in thought again. “On the microphone, the victim’s right hand, and his left elbow.”

“Was there any on his jacket?”

“No, sir.”

Lang bent to speak into Franziska's ear. "I know that smile. You have this case figured out, sis?"

"It's murder," Franziska told Lang with certainty. "And one of the band mates is the culprit. They're all suspects again."

"Think we should question them individually?" Lang glanced over at them. They were talking amongst themselves, but they all looked more stunned than scheming. Still, the more time they had before they were questioned separately, the more their stories would deviate from what actually happened.

Franziska nodded. "I was just about to suggest that exactly." They would question the suspects on the others. They'd lie about themselves, intentionally or not, but would be less likely to lie about the others. She raised her voice. "Ms. Thomas, a word?"

"Yes?" Mary Thomas asked tentatively, coming over. The woman was, in a word, beautiful.

"I wonder if you could tell us about the relationship between Taylor Kennedy and Keith Yanni. Kennedy requested a rather insulting song for Yanni. Did they hate each other?"

"Not at all," Thomas smiled fondly. "They usually go along like brothers. Taylor always said Keith's drumming was the best. It's odd that Taylor made fun on him, but with his solo debut coming up, maybe Taylor was growing a little arrogant."

"Thank you," Franziska nodded. She shot a look to Lang. Bella Shelton was next. She'd be able to shed more light on the character of the manager.

Truth be told, Lang had missed working with Franziska. He got a rush from watching the von Karma at work, and he couldn't contain a smile when she sent him the silent message and he understood.

"Bella Shelton," he said, waving the guitarist over as Thomas walked away. "You said before that Kennedy and Thomas had been fighting this evening. Did they always fight?"

Shelton was glum. "Yeah, they fought at every opportunity. It was always Taylor who'd start it. This time, he harassed Mary by making her sing "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer." But, you know, she's not as bad as Taylor said. She's smart, hard working, and good at her job. Not only that, but she's thoughtful and kind, too. She's so beautiful, but you never hear any bad rumors about her. But... maybe Taylor was fed up with those very qualities."

"Do you think she's the woman Kennedy loved?" Lang asked. "The one he mentioned when he turned you down?"

"It's not her," Shelton answered confidently. "When he turned me down, Taylor told me. He said that the woman he loved had gone away somewhere so he was waiting for her return. At the time, she was already Lex's manager. Taylor saw her all the time, so she can't be the woman."

Lang folded his hands in thought, looking as though he was praying. "Then who is it? Who did Kennedy love...?" I can't shake the feeling that she has something to do with the case..."

Franziska crossed her arms and scowled. "And did Mr. Kennedy really turn Ms. Shelton down? What's to keep her from lying? What if they were actually dating and Mr. Kennedy dumped her?" There was still one person to talk to who would know. "Mr. Yanni," she called, approaching the drummer. "Please tell us about Mr. Kennedy and Ms. Shelton's relationship."

Yanni was taken aback. "Huh? Bella and Taylor? Don't you remember? Bella said he turned her down, and that was all."

"But is there a chance they were going out and then he dumped her?" Franziska pressed. "He did, after all, request "Goodbye" for her to sing."

Yanni shook his head. "Well, it didn't look like that to me. I was vaguely aware there was a woman he liked, but..."

"Do you know who she is?" Lang asked.

"No, I didn't really talk to him about women..."

"You have no hunch at all?"

That was wen the team sent to investigate Kennedy's apartment returned. "Ms. von Karma! Agent Lang! Detective Gumshoe! We found a possible suicide note in Taylor Kennedy's locker in his office! It's just one printed sheet that says "Tired..." We also found some sheet music and old photos."

"So it is suicide!" Gumshoe declared, pumped that the case was close to resolution.

Franziska ignored the scruffy detective and looked through the photos that had been dumped on to a table. Picking one up, she called over the club manager. "Mr. Sumii, this is a picture of the band you and Mr. Kennedy were in, correct?"

"Yes," Sumii smiled. He pointed to the photo as he described it to Franziska. "That's me on the drums three years ago. There's Taylor in the front. Everyone looks so young, that was my happiest time... Of this group, on two people stayed active in the music world - Taylor and her."

"It wasn't only Kennedy who left the band?" Lang inquired.

"Nooo, Taylor refused. He said he didn't want to sign without her. See? She's right over there."

Lang was disbelieving. "What??? But I don't see her in this photo!"

"She's this girl here," Sumii said, pointing again. "Course, she looks different now."

"Of course," Franziska gasped. "The song Mr. Kennedy requested for her referred to the secret in this old photo. If he had been constantly needling her about it, that would be enough motive for murder! Now I'm certain who poisoned Mr. Kennedy."