Red and blue police lights flashed outside the Magic House. It was a little jarring to those who were situated outside (animals and the occasional barf fairy, for example). But inside the House, there was something much more shocking to its inhabitants.
"So I just got up to go to the bathroom," Bill told the officers in front of him, "and when I come back – blam! Headless statue on the floor!"
Pacifica had knelt down beside the ruined wax statue, and was now crying out, "My expert handiwork...defaced! Defaced, I say!" She covered her face with her hands, either from stress or emotion, while Gideon bent down as well to comfort her. "Who'd do such a thing?" he asked even though no one answered him.
"What do you think, Sheriff Powers?" Deputy Trigger asked his colleague. Sheriff Powers looked the magician straight in the eye, and said, "Sir, I'd like to help you as much as I can, but all the facts say one thing: it'd be next to impossible to solve this case."
"IMPOSSIBLE?!" Bill, Gideon, and Pacifica shouted in unison, making Powers cough up the coffee he was drinking. "You take that back, you!" Bill added.
"Look'it all the evidence!" Gideon continued. "There must be some clues, anythin' to catch the culprit!"
"Yeah!" Pacifica said. "You can even let Gideon help! He's really smart, you know! Once, he solved the case of who was pooping all over the gift shop!" Gideon nodded. "All signs pointed t'the rabbit."
"Yeah, yeah, the kid can help!" Bill finished. "He's got a brain for his big head. Knows how to use it, too!"
"Well, how about that," Sheriff Powers raised an eyebrow. "You think this adorable little city boy can lead the investigation?" he asked, grinning jokingly. "Who could say no to that cute little nose and touchscreen phone?" Trigger added, starting to laugh before Powers joined him as well.
At their teasing, Gideon scowled, and felt himself turning as red as a tomato. Sure, he might have been "cute" – who knew how many times a distant family relative had called him that back home – but to say that as if he couldn't think straight?!
"We don't really need your help right now," Powers concluded, patting Gideon's head and infuriating the nine-year old even more. "So just leave the investigating to the professionals."
Almost as if demonstrating hypocrisy, the radio dispatcher began to transmit the message: "Attention, all units: Scott is going to eat a hundred pizza slices in one minute. Repeat; a hundred pizza slices."
"It's a 24-17!" Trigger said excitedly. "Well, what're we waiting for?" Powers asked, and they ran off for the door, positively giggling. The Northwests watched them leave, and then Gideon stomped his foot down.
"Alright, fine!" he said determinedly. " 'Cifica, you an' I're gonna find the guy who vandalized your statue, and get back that head. Then we'll see who's 'adorable'."
With that, Gideon turned on his heel to exit the living room. And then he tripped over the carpet and fell on his face, making a noise very akin to that of a pig. It took one glare from Pacifica to get Bill to stop laughing after that.
By the time morning came, Gideon and Pacifica had already claimed the living room as their "crime scene". Pacifica was busy taking pictures while Gideon was looking over the notes he had made. He looked over the board showing pictures of the visitors from the day before, then turned to his friend.
"There were a lot of unhappy people at the unveilin' yesterday," he mused aloud. "Anybody could've taken that head."
"Yeah," Pacifica nodded. "I mean, even those weird supernatural thingies!"
"In this town, anythin's possible," Gideon agreed. "When 'ya put it that way, it could take a while to find our first clue..." He ran a hand over the pictures of the various suspects.
"Hey, look! A clue!"
Gideon turned around to look at where Pacifica was pointing. There were faint footprints in the carpet, though they were deep enough to indicate a hole in one of the shoes. The twelve-year old took pictures of the trail of footprints while her friend followed them to behind the armchair, where something glinted in the light of camera flashes. He peered behind the armchair, and there sat a knife.
"The weapon!" Gideon stage-whispered excitedly, looking up at Pacifica. She looked at him with the same expression on her face.
A whistle sounded from down the hallway, and the two kids turned to said hallway, where Robbie was sweeping the floor like he had done the other day. "Robbie!" Pacifica called, and the handyman looked to them. "Oh, hey!" he answered. "How's the investigation going?"
"We found this," Gideon said, putting on a glove and picking up the knife from behind the chair with that hand. "Whaddya think?" He handed it to Robbie, who took the knife with a handkerchief-clad hand.*
"I think..." he narrowed his eyes, "...this is a knife."
"No, I mean; who do you think owns it?" Gideon asked. Robbie turned it over, and hummed to himself before getting an idea. "It seems like one of those knives that the bikers in Gravity Falls use. I'm not really sure, but I think that should be your first bet."
"A biker! Of course!" Pacifica said. "There was one at the unveiling yesterday, I think! He was furious when he didn't get any cake!" She put her finger to her chin. "I don't think I know who he is, though."
"Oh, you mean Manly Tyler? Yeah, he hangs out a lot at the Cranial Injury joint downtown." Robbie said. "Then that's where we're going," Pacifica said determinedly.
"Wait; isn't that a place where adults go?" Gideon asked. "And therefore, aren't 'Cifica 'n I not allowed t'go there, since we're underage?"
"Well, if I can get hired as a handyman at the age of ten, then you can get into that place somehow..." he chuckled. "...At least I think that's how it works."
With a rushed thank-you, Gideon and Pacifica grabbed the things they needed (Gideon took the knife, his notepad, and his pen; while Pacifica grabbed her art materials) and went out the door of the House.
They hadn't gotten very far when another voice called out for them. "Hey, Pacifica!" Bill said, getting her attention. He was holding up a few packs of candles. "D'you think these'll be enough candles to recreate the wax head?" He shrugged. "I mean, no rush and all, but I'll have to remake that wax statue one way or another if I want to make money off it."
"That seems like enough, if you melt them," Pacifica said. She then continued, "I'd love to stay and help, Uncle Bill, but Gid and I have got a big break in the case!"
"We found the murder weapon," Gideon added, brandishing the knife, "and we're goin' downtown to interrogate the suspect."
Bill looked down at them, putting the packs of candles down. "Huh," he said. "That sounds like something neither of your parents would want you to do." After a pause, he said, "Good thing I'm just an uncle!" He chuckled. "And I'm not even related to one of you!"
With that, he raised his fist and screamed to the sky. "AVENGE ME, KIDS! AVENGE ME!"
After a considerable amount of time, Gideon and Pacifica had finally found their way to the building with the sign "Cranial Injury" glowing next to the door. Gideon peeked at it from behind the wall they were hiding behind for two seconds, and finding a bouncer in front of a door, he quickly turned back to safety.
"This is the place," he confirmed, looking to his friend. "Got the fake IDs?" Pacifica nodded, and grabbed two cardboard pieces that she had been busy on the whole trip downtown. Gideon looked at them, and sighed. "Here goes nuthin'," he said to himself.
The two of them walked up to the bouncer as a rejected miner walked away from the joint. "Good morning, sir," Pacifica began, holding up her fake ID, and Gideon followed suit with his own. "We're here to investigate the murderer of Wax Bill."
The bouncer took one look at their IDs, with the note beside "Age" that said "Old enough to get in", and said, "I don't see why not." He pushed open the door, and Gideon followed Pacifica in, wondering how exactly that worked.
He didn't have much time to wonder, though, because as soon as they walked into the joint they were met with the image of people in the middle of a brawl, hitting people and flinging chairs around. Not to mention the heavy smell of tobacco and alcohol. Gideon took a few steps around the place, and made a mental note to never mention to his parents that he had set foot in such a place.
"I'll go find our suspect," the nine-year old told Pacifica. "You stay here and try to blend in, alright?" "You got it!" she said cheerfully, and seated herself at the bar, in front of the rough looking bartender.
"She'll be fine," Gideon told himself as he walked up to the biker who had been at the unveiling. He gulped nervously, seeing the man trying to beat a game of whack-a-mole in the corner. As intensely as possible.
"Manly Tyler," the nine-year old began. "I wanna talk t'you about something." Seeing as the man was paying attention to him, he decided to continue, "Where were you last night?"
"Punching the clock," Manly Tyler answered simply, turning back to the game and whacking the mechanical moles as hard as he could.
"Y'were at work?" Gideon asked, hating how intimidated he sounded.
"No, I mean punching that clock." The biker pointed at a clock outside the window, with a bent pole to show for it. Gideon looked at the time on the broken clock, which indicated the time when it had been broken.
"Nine o'clock," Gideon thought to himself. "The time when the crime was committed."
"Well, sir, I s'pose you haven't seen this knife anywhere?" he asked, pulling out the knife and showing it to Manly Tyler. The biker took one look at it, and began, "Listen here, little lady!"
"Uh, I'm not a–" Gideon tried to say, but was cut off by Tyler continuing, "I wouldn't touch that knife, even if my life depended on it! That's a left-handed knife! I only use my right hand...THE MANLY HAND!" With that declaration, he ripped the mallet off of the machine with said "manly hand", and beat the game within an inch of its life with his bare hands. Gideon slowly backed away while a large redheaded man cheered the biker on, screaming, "GET 'EM! GET 'EM!"
Gideon walked back to the bar, where Pacifica was painting the face of the bartender. "Done!" he heard Pacifica say, and the bartender responded with, "Thank you! This is all I've ever wanted!"
"Pacifica!" the nine-year old called out. "Our first lead was a miss. But we got 'nuther one! Come on!" And so she followed him out the door, where Gideon found he had never been so thankful to be able to breathe in fresh air again.
As they left the Cranial Injury joint, Gideon finalized the checklist he had made in his notepad. He showed it to Pacifica, saying, "I found out that our knife is left-handed. This here's a list of the people who're at the unveilin' yesterday.
"Manly Tyler might've been right-handed, but we've got all these other suspects to find. If we use trial an' error, maybe we could find our left-handed killer!"
Pacifica nodded, holding out her hand for a high-five. "Come on! Let's find that murderer!" Gideon grinned as widely as her, and high-fived her.
That evening, Gideon found himself and Pacifica sitting in the back of a police car. He was looking over the checklist that they had completed while going around the town and conducting various tests to see if any of the suspects were left-handed. Of course, most of the suspects were right-handed, looking at the way they wrote or waved or caught wayward baseballs. However, there was one last person that had come up as left-handed...and probably had just enough motive.
"You two had better be right about this," Sheriff Powers said from the driver's seat. "We can only handle so much false alarms." "Don't worry, sir," Pacifica said proudly. "The evidence is, like, irrefutable."
"Well, let's just get this over with so we can get donuts," Deputy Trigger said, and Powers nodded. "We're here," he said, and pulled over in front of the building where their suspect worked. "Get ready."
The group got out of the car, and readied themselves in front of the door. "On three," Gideon instructed. "One, two.."
Trigger kicked open the door, and Powers shined his flashlight around the office. "Nobody move! This is a raid!"
"A raid?!" the editor of Gravity Falls Gossiper asked as she shielded her eyes from the lights. "What's going on here?" She got to her feet. "I demand to know!"
"Miss Shandra Jimenez, you are under arrest 'fer murdering an' stealin the head of Wax Bill!" Gideon said. Pacifica added proudly, "You have the right to remain silent as you contemplate how awesome our detective skills are!"
"Explain all this to me," Shandra said, "because I don't understand a word of what you're saying."
"Then I will explain," Gideon began. "It seems 'ya were hoping that Mr. Northwest's attraction would be the story to save 'yer newspaper. But when the show became a big flop, you went and made yourself your own bombshell story. You weren't careful, though, and so all the clues pointed to a shabby-shoed reporter–" he pointed at her shoe, which had a hole in its sole, "–who was left-handed too, t'boot."**
"Well, what do you have to say to that?" Pacifica finished, looking the reporter in the eye.
"...I still have no idea what you're talking about, kids," Shandra responded, crossing her arms. "I had nothing to do with that crime you say I committed. Nothing at all!"
"What, really?" Gideon asked.
"Nothing?" Pacifica also questioned.
Powers raised an eyebrow. "Then where were you last night at nine o'clock?"
The reporter looked a little surprised, but then sighed in defeat. "Here," she said, walking over to a TV set. "I've got security tapes to prove my innocence."
With a few careful rewinds, soon they had the recording of what happened in the office the other night at 9:00. They watched as in the video, Shandra looked around, then opened the closet in the corner to pull out a life-sized cut-out of a person.
"Finally, I've got you now," she said to the cut-out, "Toby Deternined of Gravity Falls News Network!" She then pulled out a fork from her pocket and began stabbing the cardboard's face with it, screaming maniacally as she went.
Deputy Trigger looked at Shandra with a curious look on his face, while Gideon felt the need to maintain his five-foot distance from her. "Sorry," she frowned, looking away from the TV. "People have already told me I have issues."
"The time span confirms it," Sheriff Powers concluded, looking to the reporter. "You're off the hook."
"But...what about the murder weapon?" Gideon asked disbelievingly. He gave the knife to the policemen. "Check for fingerprints!"
Sheriff Powers took it, then carefully dusted the handle while Deputy Trigger held a blacklight above it. "Sorry, kid, but there aren't any prints on it." He said, handing it back to the nine-year old, who was already beginning to wonder, how could a murder weapon have no fingerprints?!
"Well, I've got a headline for you," Trigger joked, a smile forming on his face. " 'City Kids Go On A Wild Goose Chase'!" The adults laughed at that, while Gideon and Pacifica felt themselves blush in humiliation.
Well, the adults were right. No fingerprints, no suspects left, no wax head to even show for their work.
(A/N: * - This was a thing that bothered me a lot. How could a lot of humans without gloves handle a single object and not get any prints on it at all? Might have been a mistake on the GF Team's part. Just imagine anyone who handles the knife here in this chapter is wearing a glove or using a handkerchief, like police in real life do...I think.
** - Rev!Shandra is slightly ambidextrous. Her dominant hand is her left one, though she uses her right hand quite often as well.
Hopefully the next update will come within this month...or not.)
