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The crime scene was compromised at approximately 3:47 PM.
Charmy had been keeping a meticulous log of notes in his Detective’s Journal (Which actually happened to be a spiral notebook with flowers crudely drawn on the cover, but that didn’t make it any less official!) The boy was in the middle of his own case. Case #623: The Mystery of the Missing Cookie Caper! He had been recreating the suspect’s movements across the office.
Charmy muttered to himself, buzzing a few inches off of the ground as he inspected the fibers of the dirty ol’ rug. “Hmm… the perpetrator would’ve approached from THIS angle, using the recliner to avoid any sort of detection from the hallway…”
He buzzed backwards, his eyes gazing through his Super Awesome Junior Detective Magnifying Glass. He studied a single crumb he’d discovered near the coffee table. This evidence was crucial to the case. It could possibly crack the case wiiiiiiide open. Espio said he hadn’t taken the last cookie from the cookie jar, but the crumb pattern suggested-
CRASH!!!
Charmy’s wings stopped mid-flight.
He dropped onto the floor, time seemingly slowing down as he hesitated to turn his head. Hesitating to face the facts. That absolutely hideous and abhorrent lamp that Miss Vanilla gifted to Vector last Christmas? Y’know- the one with the yucky colors and the odd patterns? Yeah, that one.
Shattered into a bazillion different tiny little pieces.
Charmy had bumped into the side table the lamp called home as he was inspecting.
“Uh-oh.”
Charmy shook his head as his detective training kicked in immediately, he began to catalog the scene with the same amount of precision used for actual high-stakes investigations. A ceramic lamp scattered within a 3.2 foot radius, largest piece approximately five inches in diameter, impact pattern consistent with a fall from three feet, no witnesses present, time of incident 3:50 PM, suspect-
Wait.
He WAS the suspect.
This was bad, really, really, REALLY bad.
Vector loved that lamp! Well, not because it was beautiful (to be frank, it was aggressively, and almost offensively ugly), but because it was a gift from Miss Vanilla. Vector had told Charmy at least a dozen times to be careful when buzzing around the lamp. Of course Charmy promised, he’d promised a million times! He promised that he’d always watch where he was going.
Charmy’s first instinct was to preserve the evidence and report the incident immediately to the proper authorities (AKA Vector.) But his second, much louder instinct was screaming at him to HIDE IT, HIDE IT, HIDE IT!!!!
Charmy’s little hands trembled as he attempted to pick up the mess as quick as he could, trying his best to not cut himself on the sharp edges. He looked around the room frantically, panic really setting in. Where could he put it all? Behind the couch? Nah, too easy. In the kitchen cabinet? Somebody would find it immediately. In Vector’s desk? Why is that even an option?!
AHA! Under the rug!
It was so cliché, nobody would even think to check! Nice goin’ Charmy!
He kneeled down by the rug, lifting a corner and carefully placing the broken lamp pieces underneath. He made sure to spread everything out as to not create a visible lump. He smoothed the rug back down, getting up to stomp on it a few times to make sure it would lie flat. He stepped back and examined his work. Nobody would suspect a thing.
Okay…the evidence was concealed. Now Charmy just needed to construct some sort of plausible narrative for the inevitable moment Vector realized the lamp was missing.
He pulled out his Detective’s Journal and flipped to a fresh page. At the top, he wrote: “ALIBI IDEAS” and underlined it twice for emphasis.
Idea #1: The Chao knocked it over.
Wait, they didn’t have a Chao. He crossed that idea out.
Idea #1: A Chao broke in through the window and knocked over the lamp.
Better! Unfortunately, Charmy’s trained detective mind immediately began poking holes in his own story. If a Chao broke in, where would it have entered? The windows were busted and couldn’t be opened. Secondly, there were no Chao prints anywhere , and no shattered lamp in sight. Also, why would a Chao break into the agency just to knock over a lamp? What could possibly be the motive? Chao didn’t just commit crimes on a whim.
He crossed out idea #1 again, this time with even more vigor.
Idea #2: There was an earthquake and the lamp fell.
Charmy scowled at his new idea. Vector would’ve felt an earthquake. And if there was one, other stuff would’ve fallen too, right? His eyes darted across the room. Everything else was perfectly in its place. His detective training had taught him that a good investigator always checked for corroborating evidence. That’s a big word the boss taught him. A big word that didn’t fit the situation.
Also, he didn’t even know if this part of the world could GET earthquakes.
He crossed out idea #2
Idea #3: Eggman broke in and stole the lamp, but he dropped it on the way out.
Charmy’s antennae perked up in the air. Now THAT was a good story! Eggman is always getting into places he shouldn’t be. It was plausible, dramatic, and explained everything.
Well, except… why would he break in for a stupid ol’ lamp? Besides, there were no signs of forced entry, no fingerprints, no nothin’.
And why would Eggman steal the lamp and then drop it in the same room? Why not just hold it tighter? What kind of incompetent-
Charmy groaned as he stuffed his face in his hands. His detective brain was ruining everything!
He tried to think like a regular six-year-old instead of a detective. What would a normal kid say? Maybe he could say he didn’t know what happened? Maybe he could say that he found things like this?
But it was still too suspicious. Charmy had been in here all afternoon, and Vector knew it. He waved the kid bye before running some errands. If he claimed he didn’t know what happened to the lamp, Vector would just ask when the kid saw it last, then he’d have to narrow down the timeline, and then Vector would ask what he was doing during that time, and then-
“Ughh, this is IMPOSSIBLE!” Charmy muttered, closing his Detective’s Journal with a defeated thud. “How do criminals do this?”
He began to circle the rug, his wings buzzing anxiously as he attempted to rehearse a believable story. Each version of his story fell apart the moment he calculated things.
His antennae drooped as he realized he was utterly trapped. There was no good lie, and no easy escape. Vector would eventually find out, and when he did-
The front door swung open.
Vector stepped inside, eyes immediately focusing on the scene in front of him. Charmy hovering in the middle of the office, looking painfully guilty. His wings fluttered erratically. The rug beneath him looked slightly off.
“Charmy,” Vector said slowly, his voice taking on that authoritative tone he used when he suspected something was wrong. “Whaddaya doin’?”
Charmy’s poor little heart nearly stopped. He was caught. Caught hovering directly over the evidence. He looked exactly like what he was: A criminal caught red-handed at the scene of the crime.
“Uhhh…I was just..um..” Charmy’s voice came out higher than usual. He could feel the uncomfortable tremble of his anxious wings. His antennae twitched with regret. It felt like all the eyes in the world were staring at him.
Vector’s eyes shifted between his kid and his rug, his expression shifting from curiosity to concern.
“Charmy, what’s goin’ on?”
Vector looked up from the scene, his attention being hooked by the empty space where a lamp should’ve been. “Where’s Miss Vanilla’s lamp?” Vector’s voice lowered as he squinted his eyes.
Charmy’s antennae went uncontrollably rigid. His wings stopped buzzing for a fraction of a second before he caught himself and resumed his hovering. Shoot…that was a sign. That was definitely a sign. Charmy knew that suspects often displayed signs of guilt when confronted with evidence of their crimes.
“Heheh…The lamp?”
“Yes, Charmy. The lamp.”
Okay, okay… This was it. Time to deploy Alibi Idea #4. Charmy had no choice but to choose this one. No choice but to just wing it.
“Ohh!” Charmy attempted to sound surprised. “Yeah, uh, about that. So there was this…person… who came to the door.”
Vector raised a brow. “Someone was at the door?”
“Yup! A stranger! A suspicious stranger.” Charmy began to nervously hover in a circle. “He said he was, um… delivering lamps.”
Shoot! Why would anybody delivering lamps want to take a lamp? That made no sense!
Vector looked unamused. “And he was deliverin’ lamps, you say?”
“NO!! I mean- Yes! …But-“ Charmy’s mind raced. “He was delivering lamps, but he wanted to see your lamp first. To, uh…Compare them! For quality verification purposes.”
Quality verification purposes?? His detective brain screamed at him. What kind of delivery person does quality verification on existing lamps? That’s not a real business model! Think, Charmy. Think!!
Charmy continued, even as every single instinct in his little body told him to stop. “So I let him in, and he went to grab the lamp, and then-“
“You welcomed a complete stranger into the agency?!” Vector’s voice was adorned with a concerned edge. “He ain’t a client, what if he wanted to hurt ya?!
“N-n-n-no, I didn’t open the door!” Charmy blurted out. “I mean- I did, but…wait, no the door was already open. You musta left it open when you.. when you went to… to…”
Charmy trailed off. Vector looked at him with that kind of expression he had when he knew something was wrong but was waiting for an explanation. Charmy used that expression himself during actual interrogations. The expression he’d use to get the suspect to keep talking and incriminate themselves further.
Unfortunately, Charmy was only incriminating himself.
“Charmy, the door was closed when I got here, I definitely didn’t leave it open.” Vector was soft with his response.
“Right,” Charmy’s voice only got smaller. “Of course not. The stranger must have… picked the lock? Because he was actually a burglar who was disguised as a lamp delivery person.”
Uh-huh. A burglar disguised as a lamp delivery person…Charmy’s internal monologue mocked him. A burglar who picks a lock in broad daylight, walks into the right into the office, and steals a lamp while leaving behind Gaia knows what. What’s the motive? The reason? This doesn’t even match any criminal profile Charmy knew!
“A burglar,” Vector repeated painfully slow.
“Yes! And he, uh, took the lamp! He stole it. That’s why it’s gone.” Charmy started rambling faster, his words tumbling over one another. “I tried to stop ‘im, but he was too fast, and he ran out the door, and-“
Wait, if he ran, why didn’t Charmy just run after him? He’s equipped with a stinger, he can fully handle himself. Why would he come back home empty handed? Charmy isn’t one to give up a fight.
Vector was silent, his face read as unamused. Charmy couldn’t bear to look at him, he opted to stare at his own hands instead, noticing that they were trembling uncontrollably. Trembling hands indicated elevated stress levels and potential deception. He’d previously documented this in Case #31: The Mystery of Who Ate All The Halloween Candy.
It was Espio, by the way. It was always Espio when there were sweets involved.
Charmy was silent, he attempted to open his mouth once more when-
“Charmy.” Vector ran a hand down his snout. “Is that really what happened?”
“Yes.” Charmy’s response was automatic. “Well, I mean, probably. Mostly. Some of it.”
Some of it? What kind of confession was that?! Either something happened or it didn’t. Pull yourself together, Charmy!
“Your left antenna twitched three times durin’ that statement, kiddo.” Vector crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “You always do that when you’re fibbin’.”
Charmy’s heart sank. Of COURSE he had to notice that.
“Tell me the truth, boy.” Vector’s voice was expectantly intimidating.
Charmy fiddled with his fingers. He could feel his lies shattering around him like the pieces of the lamp currently hidden under the rug. Every word to have come out of his mouth was wrong. Every detail had contradicted something. He’d created a suspect with no clear motive, a crime with no logical reason, a timeline that would never match the evidence.
He was the worst liar in the whole wide world.
“The part where the…the lamp is missing.” Charmy quietly admitted. “That part is true.”
“And where is it?” Vector asked with a gentle, yet stern tone.
Charmy pointed to the part of the rug that concealed the remnants of the lamp.
His whole entire body felt heavy. He didn’t realize how exhausting lying actually was. It was more exhausting than flying for hours, or even solving three cases in one day.
“It’s under the rug.” Charmy finally swallowed his fears. “I broke it.”
The boy’s eyes were big and misty. Vector knew kids lied, he was just waiting for the day he’d catch Charmy in the act.
Charmy sniffled. “And I’m really, REALLY sorry….I know it was a gift. I know I promised to be careful. I didn’t mean to break it…promise! It was an accident. But, then I tried to lie, and I made it worse ‘cuz I’m a detective and detectives aren’t s’pposed to lie. And- and-“
To his surprise, Vector began to chuckle. The chuckle then turned into a laugh, one of those Vector laughs that are loud and a little obnoxious.
“Get over ‘ere, kiddo.” Vector opened his arms wide, he was back to his warm, not stern, not intimidating, usual self.
Charmy hesitantly floated into Vector’s embrace. But as soon as his as he felt his love, he buried his face into his crocodile guardian. Tears were prickling at Charmy’s eyes. It was a little embarrassing. Detectives aren’t supposed to cry. Six-year-old detectives, maybe. Six-year-olds are allowed to cry. But detectives are brave and strong.
“I’m sorry.” Charmy mumbled again. “I’m sorry for breakin’ it, then lying to your face.”
“I know you’re sorry, kiddo. I didn’t even like that lamp, anyways.” A large hand rubbed Charmy’s back with comfort. “It takes guts to tell the truth. But, I don’t want ya lyin’ to me again, okay? I’m just glad y’ended up tellin’ me.”
“Though, maybe next time, skip the part about the burglar disguised as a lamp delivery person. That was a bit much.”
“Wait, next time?”
“Don’t worry about it, kiddo.”
Well, alls well that ends well, right? …. Wait what do you mean he never liked the lamp?!