The countries stood uneasily outside of the interrogating room. After Monaco had announced to the countries that she knew who the murderer was, she had gone into this room to explain to France. The countries gave each other incredulous looks. Was it them? Was it him? Was it her? Who was it?
The door slowly opened. A triumphant looking France and Monaco stepped out to face the crowd of impatient, yet-to-be-proven guilty, suspects.
"We know who has murdered Dominic and Colette," Monaco said to the crowd. "But, in order to first understand, we've got to explain some things."
"First of all, who was Dominic? Well, a waiter, who, ahem, took the short way out. That was true. For the most part though, he was a playboy, who... mistreated several young ladies."
Belarus took Hungary in her arms, Taiwan looked down, and Ukraine's tears began to swell in her eyes.
"He was also Russia's son!"
Several gasps followed. Russia blushed.
"Now we go on to another question: Who was Colette? Another maid from Russia's house, who knew of Russia and Dominic's relationship. A great motive for killing Colette, no? But then, why would he kill his son? As we all know, the person who killed Colette, killed Dominic."
"Yeah, but," interrupted South Korea, "we heard from Colette herself that Russia killed her!"
"We shall come to that point later. As we all know, Dominic died by a stabbing. But, in reality, he was killed in a variety of techniques. He was hit on the head with a pan by Hungary, knifed by Taiwan, and poisoned by Iceland; proved by the fact of Romania's 'accident'." But did he die by that? No. Now let us turn our attention to Colette's murder. Strangled and with her blood, a painting of a Jewish symbol, and pinned to that, a note left by the murderer. Let's focus on the Star. To me, it meant that one: religion of a country was a hint, or it's flag, and the possibility of difference, non-acceptance. So, I interrogated the countries with stars on their flags, or weren't recognized as countries; but to no avail. So now, let us turn our attention to the note."
"This note was written differently than the invitations the murderer had obviously written. Compared to Russia's invitation, it was sloppy and hurriedly written. Also, the style was written differently. The note sounded as if it had come from a kid. Russia's, from an old lady, France's from an educated gentleman. Now, that leads us to the announcement we had earlier, from the murderer. Who, when they heard his voice, thought it was going to be a little kid's?"
No one rose their hands.
"And this was based on your invitations, right?"
All nodded.
"Because of this, I didn't think it was Russia. Or Hungary, or Taiwan, or Iceland."
Monaco looked over to Estonia. "Estonia, where are your mochis right now?"
"Well, they should be home, asleep."
"Really, is that so? Will you please call your house then?"
"But that will wake them up!"
"Exactly, and they'll answer."
Estonia pulled out his cell phone, grumbling. After a few seconds, he paled.
"There's no answer..."
"Hmm. I wonder why? Maybe, because they're here!"
Monaco marched over to a side room a pulled the door open. In it, were several mochis.
"Wha-? But how?" stammered Estonia.
"Easy. Because they're the murderers."
Everyone gasped.
"It explains the difference in writing and style in the invitations. It also explains the apparent killing of Colette by Russia."
"But how?" yelled Switzerland.
Monaco turned to the mochis. "Mochis, show me Mr. Russia."
The mochis started to squish themselves next to each other, slowly changing shape, size, color, and form, transforming into a mirror image of Russia.
"While strangling Colette, I figure she scratched them, getting that white putty-like mark on her neck."
"What I don't get is why they did it," Lithuania spoke quietly.
"Easy," explained Monaco. "Each mochi is, in a sense 'bound' to their own country. As their country's built up hate for Dominic, they decided to kill him and solve their master's problems. They killed Colette to put blame on Russia."
"Well, looks like the case is closed, mates," Australia said, sighing with relief.
"Not really," Monaco said.
Everybody looked at her in a confused way.
"We still have to have a final dance! Mochi, hit it!"
As the music began, Monaco grabbed France's arm and ran to the middle of the dance floor. She smiled up at him.
"I still owe you that dance."
France nodded. "C'est true..."
