The commotion piqued our interest, prompting us to find out what was really happening.
"Where is Alwen!?" Mlle. Voyles gritted her teeth, looking around in confusion about the Ferris wheel.
Meanwhile, I had counted M. Marsh 6 times he flipped his phone back and forth against his right ear.
We were all worried and confused. While Feline stealthily moved away from the crowd, the three of us followed suit.
"Attention, attention! Visitors are requested to disperse from this area and are prohibited from taking photos of any objects! Attention, attention!" someone with a sturdy and tall physique among the staff announced through a megaphone.
Four other staff members ran and pushed the crowd back, forcing visitors to disperse.
The tall staff member with the megaphone then turned towards the Ferris wheel, instructing his colleague in control of the machine to rotate the gondola at twelve o'clock downwards.
Feline chatted with the staff member holding the megaphone, and we arrived a few seconds later.
"Uh... Miss, do you know these two?" said the staff.
"Y-yes, sir. Our two friends haven't come down since earlier!" replied Mr. Marsh earlier.
"Well, um... you better talk to those two later about not sleeping on the ride, sir," The man turned around, pointing to the gondola that was previously at 12 o'clock, now rotating slowly towards 2 o'clock and continuously rotating.
What does sleeping on the ride mean? Is there someone doing that? Are people raised and lowered from a height of 13 meters, experiencing jolts that might tickle their waists, causing them to fall asleep?
We all focusing our gaze on the two people in the gondola, following the direction indicated by the tall staff that bring megaphone.
Although it appeared somewhat blurry, we at least realized that those two were indeed inside the gondola. They leaned against each other romantically.
"These two, ugh! Can't they see the situation and conditions?" M. Marsh finally growled. But I could sense the relief on their faces, both Mr. Marsh and Mlle. Voyles.
"Well, could they really sleep, Mr. Cake? I don't understand how that could happen?" Feline placed her hands on her hips, shaking her head.
Of course, it's difficult and would never happen. I wanted to answer that immediately, but I wanted to know Feline's opinion. What does she think about this?
"Impossible, Feline?"
"Hm? Yeah, well..." Feline glanced at me for a moment before looking back at the gondola. "It's hard to imagine that someone with motion sickness can sleep on a ride, right? If that happened to me, I would never be able to fall asleep without motion sickness medicine. Perhaps... Miss Howell is the same?"
"But why would M. Gill be like that too?"
"Maybe... um... he's following Miss Howell's lead?" she suggested. Then Feline, Mlle. Voyles, and M. Marsh approached the gondola after reaching the bottom. I was right behind the three of them.
What I just noticed now is that the two people are not holding their slushies. Is there a trash bin inside the gondola? No, there isn't. Because there isn't one in our location.
When the gondola was opened, we were all shocked by what we just saw. Slushies belonging to Mlle. Howell, a milk and strawberry variant with marshmallow toppings, chocolate bars, candy, cotton candy, cream, and cocoa sprinkles, had fallen with the lid open, making a mess. The same happened to M. Gill's large bitter coffee. It seemed like the tail of the problem led to the core.
Even though the gondola was opened, despite the ringing sound of Mlle. Howell's phone being answered by M. Marsh, they remained motionless.
The two of them, Mademoiselle Howell and Monsieur Gill, leaned their heads against each other, closed their eyes peacefully, and their bodies seemed powerless. Their hands were clasped, but I didn't feel any further interaction, except for their possibly stiff pose since a few minutes ago.
M. Marsh entered the gondola. Lightly tapping their cheeks, calling out, still got no response.
On the last attempt, I instructed him to check their pulses. Even M. Marsh, who did not respond to me, looked more worried.
"Mademoiselle Voyles, may I borrow the compact mirror?"
I knew Mlle. Voyles, who was now overwhelmed with worry, had no choice but to comply with me. She slid the zipper of her white crossbody bag and pulled something out. She handed me a blue compact mirror with silver edges.
First, I opened their eyes and shone the light. Both were the same. There was no reaction in their pupils.
Then, using the blue compact mirror given by Mlle. Voyles, I placed it under their noses.
The results were the same. There was no dew on the mirror.
I quickly turned around and faced the sturdy staff member with the megaphone. From his nametag, his name was Idle Knapp.
"Monsieur Knapp, call the police and an ambulance immediately!"
***
A few things I remembered before the police arrived were the last positions of Mlle. Howell and M. Gill, the coffee and strawberry milk slushie marshmallow, choco bar, candy, cotton candy, cream, and cocoa sprinkles, complex toppings, falling and spreading in the gondola, and the meaning of Mlle. Howell's expression when I lectured Feline.
Assumptions being wrong had become natural for people like me. But need to be underlined, what is wrong with that? Not exactly. Rather, why did I assume that?
The four of us have now been bundled towards the Norfolk Constabulary of Great Yarmouth, then sitting warmly in an interrogation room simultaneously. They didn't allow me to investigate because Inspector Remy Sharp, with his deep voice and stern attitude, ordered us to follow the procedure. The man has a butt chin and intimidating eyes, so I was somewhat reluctant to protest. His subordinates called it an authoritative aura.
Well, if he meets someone stubborn, the worst one, that's me. I could use my connections by calling Countess Hestia Madelaine from Scotland Yard to provide me with a recommendation. But I thought it was unnecessary. Besides, nothing is left at the crime scene. Except... the forensic results.
"Well, Eira and I were friends with the victim. Actually, we were standing in line without a break behind. Um- Mr. Keymark and Miss Feline are... just acquaintances we happened to meet when Nick bought tea for Alwen because she felt unwell. That's where Alwen coincidentally met Mr. Keymark and... um - they talked. Then we came," M. Marsh, although a smart and neat manager, eventually became nervous too. Not only was this his first time being interrogated for a case, but the face of this butt-chinned man was quite disturbing.
Like his name 'Remy Sharp,' who turned out to have a sharp and intimidating gaze. His name truly reflected himself.
"Well, um... so, we found something in Miss Voyles's bag, if I may." Monsieur Sharp handed over a drug labeled Fomepizole. It was just a small bottle. When opened, it contained a clear liquid.
"Can you explain this, Miss Voyles?"
It startled us. I don’t understand why, during a vacation, that item had to be in Mlle. Voyles' white crossbody bag.
Upon reflection, if Mlle. Voyles had simply claimed it to be cosmetics, the matter would have ended.
"I work at Ghostic Pest Control and often come home late. I work as part of the research & development team in pesticide development. And this white bag is always with me when I work. And that item—perhaps it got carried in the bag?" Mlle. Voyles confidently explained.
Without blinking for a few seconds, this butt-chinned man glanced downward, nodding. The problem was that the nod seemed not to indicate agreement.
"And why would it end up in the bag at all? What necessity led to this item being in the bag? Sorry to say this, but I'm just trying to fully trust you," Mr. Sharp's eyes sharpened again towards Mlle. Voyles.
He said it with a deep and neat tone. But I felt a contradiction in his words.
Mlle. Voyles, still confident, explained that the item was her suggestion to the management for the safety of the R&D team. Perhaps they were planning to create a pesticide with a new formulation. Certainly, the medicine would be useful to counteract poisoning, both for the R&D team and the field operation team.
Then someone wearing rubber gloves, a mask, and a lab coat came without knocking, as if delivering urgent news. I was sure he was part of the forensic team.
He didn't beat around the bush. After handing over an examination result document, he left.
Now, M. Sharp looked at Mlle. Voyles again after briefly glancing at the data.
"Miss... I believe today is not your lucky day."
"Why is that!?" Mlle. Voyles furrowed her brow.
"One of the victim's bodies was found with Ethylene Glycol."
"So?"
"Look, I have encountered several cases. Especially poisoning cases. Usually, people use cyanide, strychnine, arsenic, almonds, and the like. Nevertheless, I always find it difficult to identify the perpetrator. Even though the poison is too common in the criminal world. However... Ethylene Glycol... yes, yes, yes...." Mr. Sharp nodded a little, and once again, it always referred to something else.
"What do you mean, sir?"
"Do you know... um - why there should be 'Ethylene Glycol' and 'Fomepizole' together here?"
I didn't expect M. Sharp to notice that. Especially with his practical demeanor and deep voice. I have to admit he is quite knowledgeable.
The four of us just stayed silent, especially now I could see Mlle. Voyles sweating a bit.
"Why, sir?" Feline represented Mlle. Voyles, who seemed unable to continue.
"Because they are both a Poison and its Antidote. A rather unfortunate coincidence, wouldn't you say?"
Indeed, it was truly an unjustifiable coincidence. Nevertheless, I still found it strange.
If that was the case, the perpetrator should not have hidden it in such a conspicuous bag. If that was the case, the perpetrator must be someone inattentive and careless.
In such a case, killing with a powerful poison in a single gulp would be much simpler. Let's say like arsenic, cyanide, or as Mr. Remy Sharp explained.
The problem is why Ethylene Glycol was found with its antidote, Fomepizole? I mean, that's not a universal antidote.
In fact, it is specifically an antidote for Ethylene Glycol. Created specifically for Ethylene Glycol.
So, what was the perpetrator trying to do?
ns 15.158.61.6da2
