A crowd of cosplayers had formed at one of the airplane gates. As the plane loaded, I called "Have fun at AniCon!" The costumed travelers waves and growled as appropriate to their characters. Before they could finish boarding, an alarm sounded. The whole airport went into lock down. I asked the attendant what was going on, and reluctantly, she admitted that a body had been found in the cargo. Pinned to the corpse was a note claiming that one of the cosplayers was the murderer, and another was the next target. It did not give any hints as to who.
Well, since I could not do anything else with the building locked up, I took a peek inside the airplane. Rather than having bolted down seats within a narrow fuselage, it looked like a ballroom. Rows of folding chairs, some occupied by would-be-passengers, faced a small stage near the cockpit. Clearly, the discussion panels for the anime convention were going to start in flight.
The mood of the passengers had undergone a peculiar transformation. Most had grown hushed and tense. Perhaps a quarter grinned and speculated as though this were an elaborate LARP event. Then, there were those that turned detective. I fell into this last group. Since I was not on that flight, I figured I was not the intended victim and unlikely to be suspected as the murderer. This put me in a good position to investigate.
About half an hour into my inquiries, a scream issued from the ballroom/airplane. A heavy woman dressed as a fairy dragon shrieked as an armchair inflated and remolded itself around her, threatening to swallow the lady whole.
"You'll be okay. Just breathe," I assured her before calling out the hall, "I need all the makeup and nail polish remover you have, and straws to buy us time!"
Someone had an enormous bottle of acetone with him, and I ordered him to pour it over the swelling chair. It hissed as it dissolved. As other passengers cleaned off and consoled the woman, I took a seat outside to collect my thoughts. A man in impeccable steampunk attire slumped down beside me.
"What do you make of this latest lead then, 'Miss Marple'?"
"Heh, I wish I were half as clever as her. I get the feeling though that the murderer didn't choose his victim for personal reasons. It's a game to him...or her, so the victim was chosen either because she'll be fun to kill or at random to make it a game of chance. I don't know though." I fiddled with my watch to give my hands something to do.
"Analog," the steampunker commented, "You don't see those so often now."
"I suppose not, but I prefer them. Come to think of it, I quite like clocks. Not the quartz ones but the proper mechanical ones."
"Then feast your eyes!" He drew a fob watch the size of his whole palm from his pocket, unclipping the chain from his vest. The gold gilded beauty dangled in front of me before he laid it in my hand. "Go ahead, open it. Play around if you like. I've got to talk to someone."
He slid to his feet and sauntered off, all fox-like grace. However, I only had eyes for the watch. With the back opened, I could see each gorgeous gear working. I was just as entranced as if someone had swung it before me while whispering "you're getting sleepy."
Was the murderer caught? Did he kill his target? I do not know. I do not even know, if I were to catch sight of the steampunk man again, if I would run towards him or away.
