Case Closed Fan Fiction / Fan Fiction ❯ The Mezumi Detectives ❯ Trashin' Fashion ( Chapter 4 )
[ P - Pre-Teen ]
By: Kuramas_kitsune99 
When Diane's mom returns for a fashion show, things go horribly wrong...
Anime/Manga: Case Closed Fan Fiction / Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure / Mystery / Comedy | Type: Self Insertion | Uploaded On: 10.10.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.7K | Visits: 207 | Status: Completed
When Diane's mom returns for a fashion show, things go horribly wrong...
Anime/Manga: Case Closed Fan Fiction / Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure / Mystery / Comedy | Type: Self Insertion | Uploaded On: 10.10.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.7K | Visits: 207 | Status: Completed
Disclaimer: I don't own Jimmy Kudo, I just own my own OCs. I've decided to put these fics in Diane's POV for now.
I was watching the clock ticking, the seconds moving slowly as I waited. My mom, Nancy Mezumi, was finally coming home from another of her trips to gain "inspiration" for her fashion line. She was well-known and is often away for months at a time. I personally thought a scientist and a fashion designer made a strange couple, but she would just say she loved smart men. I kept in touch with her via e-mail or telephone when it's availiable to her. She always wants to know if I'm eating right and doing well in school. It's like the house might explode if she leaves for long the way she goes on about everything. I sat there on the old couch wondering if she brought me a souvenir. The doorbell finally rang and I ran eagerly to answer it. My mom stood there and hugged me tenderly.
"Diane, your hair is a mess. Here, let me fix it for you." Most of the time, my hair is her number one obsession. She always combs it like this and acessorizes it like that. She wants me to have whatever's "in style". I never followed fashion and I was partially annoyed that she would rather be my hairdresser than my mother at a time like this. At least Riku gets off easy, mom just tells him to get his hair out of his eyes (which he prefers not to) and he's done. Why did I have to be the girl?
"Mom, my hair's fine."
"Nonsense! If you're going to be a good detective you might as well look nice for the press."
"Mom, the only press I know is the one that put my picture in the school newspaper."
"Well there you go! First the school newspaper and then who knows?" I didn't bother to argue with her. We got back inside and she told me all of the details of her trip. She handed me some souvenirs she bought for us and then went to get the clothes she designed. Mom was getting ready for the upcoming fashion show in a couple of days and she wanted to keep her reputation up and her clothing line flying off the shelves. I decided to relax on the couch and watch TV.
The day before the show, they held a gathering at the building where it would take place. This gave everyone who was participating a chance to prepare. I came along mostly because I was forced to. They did serve food and refreshments, but for the meanwhile, it was pretty boring. At least Riku and the others were there to keep me company. My watch read 4:45 p.m. as my mother went to check on her outfits before we decided to leave. I was starting to head out the door when I heard a terrible scream coming from the storage room. I ran over there and saw my mom in tears. The clothes were torn and slashed; apparently, someone wants to hog the spotlight. This looked like a case for me. Fortunatly my mother had made extra clothes, but she had hoped she wouldn't need to use them. This was personal.
I went outside to get the others. I checked to find that, luckily, nobody had left the building yet. The only ones there were her three competitors, the owner of the building, and the two maintenance men. I went to inspect the damage. The clothes were slashed from top left to lower right. I may not know (or care) much about fashion, but I do know to ruin my mother's hard work is asking for trouble. I needed some answers, so I went to gather people for questioning. My three biggest suspects were, of course, her competitors: Jacob Harlem, Alice Naomi, and David Quint. Each of them has had more years of experience than my mother, but the fact that trends in the fashion world have become more "noticeable" to my mother, seemed to give her the advantage. Any one of them might be jealous enough to do this.
I had an idea. Janet wanted to take some pictures at the party so she "borrowed" my digital camera. I had to go find her. It didn't take long, seeing that she was in the restroom. She handed me the camera and (as I hoped) she had photos of those fashion gurus.
"You find something you needed Diane?"
"As a matter of fact I did." From what I found, I began the investigation. I went around the building searching for evidence. First I found a cloth monogrammed with "DQ". I had seen David with this cloth. Then, not far from the storage room, I found a blade which had a thread clinging to it. This was definitely the tool used to make those slashes. It looked like something you might find in someone's tool belt. Just as I was thinking so, one of the workers walked by.
"Where did I put that blade? I just had it before that nap... strange that I would be tired at a time like this." I kept quiet making sure he wouldn't notice me. Would he have a motive? It was possible, but it's innocent till proven guilty until this case is over. I walked quietly out of the storage room when something caught my eye. Some kind of bottle was in the trash bin. I picked it up and examined the label. This originally contained sleep aids for Jacob. I reviewed the facts: I had the cloth, pictures, blade, and pill bottle as evidence; but what does it lead to? I knew who the cloth and the bottle belonged to... does this case point to them? Feeling dehydrated, I went to a fountain to get a drink. Suddenly, I heard echoes of a conversation coming from the men's room.
"Do you think they're on to us?"
"I doubt it. We got rid of the evidence."
"But kids these days, they get into everything. They don't know when to mind their own business."
"Trust me, they wouldn't know who did it even if the person slapped an 'It was me!' sign on their backs."
"That's a good one." How rude. I'd give them a piece of my mind later. I just happened to run into Serenity as I left for the stage.
"Did you figure out who did it yet? I'm missing my favorite show..."
"That's what re-runs are for Serenity. I think I did figure it out, but I need to think of a plan to expose them."
"I'll help. The faster we catch them, the faster I can go back to watch TV!" Sometimes it embarasses me to know her. My plan was set up in the staging area. I had everyone gather in the same room. It's a familiar detective tactic, but it seems to work most of the time. There was no need to get the police involved, but the humiliation of being caught sabotaging the show must be punishment enough. I got up on the stage; fighting some stagefright while doing so.
"Alright, I knew (know) who did it."
"Who? I want to go home and get this over with." You'd think for a fashion designer, Alice could be more polite. I saw Jacob and David exchnge glances. No doubt they were worried.
"First of all, the way these clothes were torn with this knife, shows Alice is not a suspect."
"What does that prove?"
"It proves, Mr. Harlem, that our suspect is right handed. Whoever did this wanted to get it over with quickly and so a left-handed person couldn't have made these slashes without difficulty."
"How do (you) even know I'm left-handed?"
"These pictures. This is Alice signing a sheet to follow all regulations and guidelines. She signs with her left hand. Jacob eats with his right hand, thus proving the fact. When David crosses his arms, his right hand is comfortably on top, being the dominant hand."
"Well this still doesn't tell us who did it."
"Oh doesn't it Mr. Quint? I should think one could keep quiet if they knew their monogrammed cloth was evidence." David reached in his pocket with a look of shock on his face.
"It's gone..."
"Yes, the same cloth you used to clean your glasses was left at the scene of the crime."
"Are you saying I did it?"
"Not just you, Jacob too."
"Me? What did I have to do with this?"
"From the evidence I've gathered, Jacob used his sleeping pills to drug one of the janitors. David then took the blade and the keys to the storage room to finish the rest of the job."
"You can't prove that!"
"Jacob, what other reason would you have to bring this bottle? Couldn't find a trashcan at home?"
"Well, I was... in a hurry to..."
"And David, would you two really stoop so low as to cheating?"
"Maybe we did, we made an alliance to take down a common competitor is all." The manager of the whole thing had heard enough.
"That's it. Jacob Harlem and David Quinn are out of the fashion show."
"You can't be serious! You can't do this!"
"As a matter of fact I can. I shall see to it that you two aren't allowed in this year's fashion shows." That's another case solved for me. The fashion show ended up being cut short the next day, because of the lack of designer clothes to model, but it all turned out well in the end. My mother was going to leave again next month, so I had some quality time with her. My job was done, for now at least.
Wow, that was a long chapter... School is not helping update any faster T_T R&R, tell me! Is it good? bad? so-so?
I was watching the clock ticking, the seconds moving slowly as I waited. My mom, Nancy Mezumi, was finally coming home from another of her trips to gain "inspiration" for her fashion line. She was well-known and is often away for months at a time. I personally thought a scientist and a fashion designer made a strange couple, but she would just say she loved smart men. I kept in touch with her via e-mail or telephone when it's availiable to her. She always wants to know if I'm eating right and doing well in school. It's like the house might explode if she leaves for long the way she goes on about everything. I sat there on the old couch wondering if she brought me a souvenir. The doorbell finally rang and I ran eagerly to answer it. My mom stood there and hugged me tenderly.
"Diane, your hair is a mess. Here, let me fix it for you." Most of the time, my hair is her number one obsession. She always combs it like this and acessorizes it like that. She wants me to have whatever's "in style". I never followed fashion and I was partially annoyed that she would rather be my hairdresser than my mother at a time like this. At least Riku gets off easy, mom just tells him to get his hair out of his eyes (which he prefers not to) and he's done. Why did I have to be the girl?
"Mom, my hair's fine."
"Nonsense! If you're going to be a good detective you might as well look nice for the press."
"Mom, the only press I know is the one that put my picture in the school newspaper."
"Well there you go! First the school newspaper and then who knows?" I didn't bother to argue with her. We got back inside and she told me all of the details of her trip. She handed me some souvenirs she bought for us and then went to get the clothes she designed. Mom was getting ready for the upcoming fashion show in a couple of days and she wanted to keep her reputation up and her clothing line flying off the shelves. I decided to relax on the couch and watch TV.
The day before the show, they held a gathering at the building where it would take place. This gave everyone who was participating a chance to prepare. I came along mostly because I was forced to. They did serve food and refreshments, but for the meanwhile, it was pretty boring. At least Riku and the others were there to keep me company. My watch read 4:45 p.m. as my mother went to check on her outfits before we decided to leave. I was starting to head out the door when I heard a terrible scream coming from the storage room. I ran over there and saw my mom in tears. The clothes were torn and slashed; apparently, someone wants to hog the spotlight. This looked like a case for me. Fortunatly my mother had made extra clothes, but she had hoped she wouldn't need to use them. This was personal.
I went outside to get the others. I checked to find that, luckily, nobody had left the building yet. The only ones there were her three competitors, the owner of the building, and the two maintenance men. I went to inspect the damage. The clothes were slashed from top left to lower right. I may not know (or care) much about fashion, but I do know to ruin my mother's hard work is asking for trouble. I needed some answers, so I went to gather people for questioning. My three biggest suspects were, of course, her competitors: Jacob Harlem, Alice Naomi, and David Quint. Each of them has had more years of experience than my mother, but the fact that trends in the fashion world have become more "noticeable" to my mother, seemed to give her the advantage. Any one of them might be jealous enough to do this.
I had an idea. Janet wanted to take some pictures at the party so she "borrowed" my digital camera. I had to go find her. It didn't take long, seeing that she was in the restroom. She handed me the camera and (as I hoped) she had photos of those fashion gurus.
"You find something you needed Diane?"
"As a matter of fact I did." From what I found, I began the investigation. I went around the building searching for evidence. First I found a cloth monogrammed with "DQ". I had seen David with this cloth. Then, not far from the storage room, I found a blade which had a thread clinging to it. This was definitely the tool used to make those slashes. It looked like something you might find in someone's tool belt. Just as I was thinking so, one of the workers walked by.
"Where did I put that blade? I just had it before that nap... strange that I would be tired at a time like this." I kept quiet making sure he wouldn't notice me. Would he have a motive? It was possible, but it's innocent till proven guilty until this case is over. I walked quietly out of the storage room when something caught my eye. Some kind of bottle was in the trash bin. I picked it up and examined the label. This originally contained sleep aids for Jacob. I reviewed the facts: I had the cloth, pictures, blade, and pill bottle as evidence; but what does it lead to? I knew who the cloth and the bottle belonged to... does this case point to them? Feeling dehydrated, I went to a fountain to get a drink. Suddenly, I heard echoes of a conversation coming from the men's room.
"Do you think they're on to us?"
"I doubt it. We got rid of the evidence."
"But kids these days, they get into everything. They don't know when to mind their own business."
"Trust me, they wouldn't know who did it even if the person slapped an 'It was me!' sign on their backs."
"That's a good one." How rude. I'd give them a piece of my mind later. I just happened to run into Serenity as I left for the stage.
"Did you figure out who did it yet? I'm missing my favorite show..."
"That's what re-runs are for Serenity. I think I did figure it out, but I need to think of a plan to expose them."
"I'll help. The faster we catch them, the faster I can go back to watch TV!" Sometimes it embarasses me to know her. My plan was set up in the staging area. I had everyone gather in the same room. It's a familiar detective tactic, but it seems to work most of the time. There was no need to get the police involved, but the humiliation of being caught sabotaging the show must be punishment enough. I got up on the stage; fighting some stagefright while doing so.
"Alright, I knew (know) who did it."
"Who? I want to go home and get this over with." You'd think for a fashion designer, Alice could be more polite. I saw Jacob and David exchnge glances. No doubt they were worried.
"First of all, the way these clothes were torn with this knife, shows Alice is not a suspect."
"What does that prove?"
"It proves, Mr. Harlem, that our suspect is right handed. Whoever did this wanted to get it over with quickly and so a left-handed person couldn't have made these slashes without difficulty."
"How do (you) even know I'm left-handed?"
"These pictures. This is Alice signing a sheet to follow all regulations and guidelines. She signs with her left hand. Jacob eats with his right hand, thus proving the fact. When David crosses his arms, his right hand is comfortably on top, being the dominant hand."
"Well this still doesn't tell us who did it."
"Oh doesn't it Mr. Quint? I should think one could keep quiet if they knew their monogrammed cloth was evidence." David reached in his pocket with a look of shock on his face.
"It's gone..."
"Yes, the same cloth you used to clean your glasses was left at the scene of the crime."
"Are you saying I did it?"
"Not just you, Jacob too."
"Me? What did I have to do with this?"
"From the evidence I've gathered, Jacob used his sleeping pills to drug one of the janitors. David then took the blade and the keys to the storage room to finish the rest of the job."
"You can't prove that!"
"Jacob, what other reason would you have to bring this bottle? Couldn't find a trashcan at home?"
"Well, I was... in a hurry to..."
"And David, would you two really stoop so low as to cheating?"
"Maybe we did, we made an alliance to take down a common competitor is all." The manager of the whole thing had heard enough.
"That's it. Jacob Harlem and David Quinn are out of the fashion show."
"You can't be serious! You can't do this!"
"As a matter of fact I can. I shall see to it that you two aren't allowed in this year's fashion shows." That's another case solved for me. The fashion show ended up being cut short the next day, because of the lack of designer clothes to model, but it all turned out well in the end. My mother was going to leave again next month, so I had some quality time with her. My job was done, for now at least.
Wow, that was a long chapter... School is not helping update any faster T_T R&R, tell me! Is it good? bad? so-so?