MuSR / Who is the most likely murderer?

When renowned dancer Nathaniel is found dead, struck by a blowgun dart in his own studio, it's up to Detective Winston to interrogate the only two suspects: Homer the janitor and Clara, Nathaniel’s star pupil.

Detective Winston sat in the dimly lit room, staring at the glossy square pictures that showed a kaleidoscope of blood and betrayal. Among the pictures that were scattered in front of him, one was of particular interest. It showed a clear fingerprint, a crucial piece of evidence that was found at the dance studio. This single piece of evidence linked all the mysteries together and led him straight to one person: Homer.

The body of Nathaniel, a dancer in a quiet town, found at his dance studio had set in motion a chain of events that Winston would not ignore. Nathaniel had discovered Homer's shady financial dealings. Nathaniel had not just shared his dance routine schedule with Homer, but also the explicit bookings of his dance studio times because of their regular appointments. With his strong suspicion, Nathaniel decided to confront Homer about his doubts and had even started to send anonymous letters demanding money as a warning for his misdeeds.

Winston stood up, glanced one more time at the grim photos arrayed on the table, then walked out, his mind set on the person he needed to talk with next: Homer, who had no alibi during the time of the murder and whose fingerprints were on the scene.

Homer was a veteran when it came to numbers. He was both a friend and foe to figures, a financial advisor by trade. Today, he stood in his richly appointed home office filled with trophies, symbols of his past service in the special forces where he was specifically trained in the use of a blowgun. Highlight among these were carefully arranged and meticulously cleaned blowguns-- a recreational activity he enjoyed in his spare time. All signs pointed to Homer acquiring another blowgun recently, adding to his peculiar collection, which he kept in clear view.

Their conversation started with Winston delivering the hard facts-- the studio bookings that Homer possessed, the anonymous letters traced back to Nathaniel, and the lack of Homer's alibi. Then transitioning into the more circumstantial-- the suspicious activities at strange hours and Homer's history in the special forces, and finally, the gruesome reveal of Nathaniel's murder.

"You haven't been having an easy time, have you?" He pointed to the letters, then asked, "Those threats...those payments? They're from Nathaniel, aren't they?”

Building up the pressure further, Winston bluntly asked, "I suppose you were practicing with your newly purchased blowgun during the time of Nathaniel's murder?"

"Well yes, Detective, I was. Just a few days ago," Homer confessed, beginning to look nervous.

The story ended with Winston stepping out into the bright afternoon, his mind full of vital clues and connected dots, leaving Homer amidst the shadows of his room.

Winston slumped in the chair of the dance studio's private box, glancing down at the floor below. Nathaniel's body was still outlined in chalk, a grim reminder of the night's gruesome proceedings. He'd been conducting a standard interview with Clara, the unfortunate woman who'd discovered the body and was last seen near the dance studio shortly before Nathaniel's body was discovered. A tear trailed her cheek as Winston gently asked her the last time she'd seen Nathaniel alive.

"Shortly before I...found him," Clara managed through her poorly disguised sobs. "Right here in the studio. He was my cousin, you know?"

"I know," Winston replied softly, nursing his cooling coffee. "And you're a dancer too, aren't you, Clara?"

She wiped the trail of the tear from her face, nodding uneasily. "Yes, I love dancing. Is it relevant, detective?"

"Everything's relevant at this stage," he assured her. Clara sighed, delicate fingers playing with the collar of her blouse in a gesture of anxiety. Winston noted the trouble she had staying still, and how she avoided eye contact. 

"And you spend most of your time alone at home, don't you?" Winston added, following a thought. 

Clara seemed taken aback at the sudden shift in topic, then nodded slowly. "Yes I do, between dance practices, I prefer the solace of my room. I seldom go out with friends. It's just not my thing."

"Now, I understand there's been some trouble at home," Winston ventured, setting his coffee down. "Your pearl necklace went missing, didn't it?"

Clara's eyes instantly sharpened, her gaze turning ice cold at the mention of the pearls. "Yes. I am sure Nathaniel...he stole it." 

"That's quite the confirmation, Clara. I remember your reaction when you reported it missing. You were quite distraught, weren't you?" Winston asked, recalling her visibly upset expression. 

Clara's eyes reluctantly met his, a flash of anger more evident on her face than tears. "I confronted him about it the other day! And caught him red-handed wearing my necklace. Just before...just before he was..." Her voice trailed off as she fought back another wave of tears.

"Is that why you have a high-security lock on your room, Clara?" Winston prodded, watching her reaction carefully.

She disillusionedly nodded, a crimson blush staining her cheeks. "No one else in our family does, but I felt it was necessary, what with Nathaniel's... tendencies."

Winston listed through the facts in his head. "I know that might've been painful to bring up, Clara, thank you," he said. "Now, forgive me for the personal question, but I noticed you don't interact a lot with your friends, is that right?”

"I... I suppose so," she admitted with a sniffle, "Most of my time is spent in the studio. Dancing helps me cope."

And there was where Nathaniel's body was found, Winston noted. This wasn't going to be an easy case. Not by a long shot. As he was wrapping up, Clara hesitantly murmured something about a charity she had heavily invested in turning out to be a fraud.

"Was Nathaniel involved in this as well?" Winston asked. Clara nodded, clutching a document proving Nathaniel's involvement in the scam, then said, "We found this evidence of his involvement, yes."

"Let's call it a night, Clara," Winston said. As Winston was leaving the studio, he couldn't shake off the niggling feeling he got from the conversation with Clara. But shaking off feelings was part of the job, so he focused on the facts at hand, leaving the dance studio to the night and the lingering specter of death.