DETECTIVE GARP: CASE CLOSED

The moment Remi’s words hung in the air, chaos erupted. Suppressed giggles turned into stifled snorts, and some outright guffaws broke through. Meanwhile, a girl with bright, fiery hair stepped forward, waving her hands dramatically. Her name was Reddish.

“This is why we need to stop objectifying women!” she declared, her voice echoing over the sound of laughter. “If someone had stolen a guy’s boxers, you wouldn’t all be laughing, would you?”

Everyone fell awkwardly silent, except for another girl, who muttered, “I mean, we might…” under her breath.

“Thank you!” Remi snapped, but Reddish’s expression of smug satisfaction didn’t last long. She realized she’d drawn even more attention to Remi’s plight, and now everyone was staring harder than before.

Ms. Lorn clapped her hands, slicing through the tension. “Enough. I’ll have none of this foolishness. This isn’t a debate club.” She turned to Remi. “We’ll find your… missing item. I trust this will be handled discreetly.”

That’s when they showed up.

Two students emerged from the crowd like actors entering a poorly rehearsed play. One wore a trench coat far too large for him those that we used to see only in some old 21st century movies, flapping dramatically in the sea breeze. His round glasses glinted, though they were clearly for show since one lens was cracked. His slicked-back hair was trying its best to defy gravity but failing miserably.

The other had a holo-notebook with him and a magnifying glass dangling from a chain around his neck. He walked with an exaggerated swagger, his Hawaiian shirt and flip-flops completely clashing with the supposed seriousness of his demeanor.

“Never fear!” Trench Coat declared, pointing a finger skyward. “The Detective Club is on the case!”

The crowd murmured.

“Does our school even have a detective club?” someone whispered.

“Apparently,” another muttered, rolling her eyes.

Trench Coat cleared his throat. “I am Liton Lumley, the brains behind this operation!”

“And I’m Cyril Castor, the, uh… other brain,” the Hawaiian-shirted sidekick added.

“Wait, there are two brains?” Reddish asked with mock confusion.

Liton ignored her. “Miss Remi, we’ll solve this heinous crime. But first—” He flipped out a holo-notebook and leaned dramatically close to her. “Are you sure you didn’t misplace it?”

Remi turned bright red. “Do I look like someone who would misplace her panty?”

Liton opened his mouth, but Cyril quickly elbowed him, whispering, “Don’t.”

The pair set to work. They analyzed the surveillance drone footage which the authorities begrudgingly shared. Thanks to my tall height, I was able to see the footage for a moment. The thermal feed showed a figure lingering suspiciously near Remi’s towel around the time of the alleged theft. Their heat signature was partially obscured by a cloak, making identification impossible, but one detail stood out: the glint of something metallic in their hand.

Liton and Cyril observed it like some seasoned detectives, that is if seasoned detectives narrated every single thing they observed.

“Notice the metallic glint,” Liton said, rewinding the footage. “Could it be… a weapon?”

“Or tweezers,” Cyril said flatly. “Let’s not get carried away.”

They then turned to the beach. “Observe the tide patterns!” Liton announced, as if the ocean’s waves were his personal discovery. “This thief knew exactly when to strike, avoiding both the waves and detection.”

“This isn’t just random,” Liton muttered, pacing in circles around Remi. “They planned this.”

“Planned? It’s a panty!” Cyril shot back. “You’re acting like we’re solving a murder.”

“And yet, here we are,” Liton replied, not missing a beat.

The students watched, half-amused and half-confused by their antics. Some even started clapping when Lionel and Cyril presented their findings. “The thief must be an expert in timing, stealth, and perhaps… cloak technology!” Liton concluded, bowing dramatically.

I couldn’t take it anymore. “Ppt…haha..Idiots” I muttered under my breath, walking away from the crowd.

I had seen my mom solve mysteries that would leave those two scratching their heads for years. In fact, she was so good at it that even drones couldn’t keep up with her investigation skills. Apart from her torturing techniques, that was why she was very highly valued in the police. So, over the years I had picked up some useful observational skills from her. Watching Liton and Cyril was just too cringe for me. While they did figure out what was happening in the footage, they failed to analyze the most basic thing which was the body language of the thief.

The footage showed a figure cloaked and holding something metallic, but they weren’t acting like a person stealing for kicks. The figure’s movements were too mechanical. Another strange thing which I observed in the footage was the fact that something or some parts of the panty were a little too shiny. Perhaps, they wanted to steal that instead of the panty itself. According to Remi, she was swimming earlier wearing those. And there was only one material which could glow like that. I already knew what it was.

I reached the crime scene and noticed faint trail of disturbances in the sand. I followed them from the marks which seemed to be too precise to be human footprints. They led toward a rocky outcrop at the far edge of the beach.

When I crossed over the last small boulder, I saw it.

The culprit was a spider-like robot with a glowing core. It scuttled around a secluded cave, adding lumorite crystals to an enormous pile that sparkled like a miniature galaxy. And there, right on the ground, was the missing panty, carelessly discarded like an afterthought. As I suspected, he wanted to steal the lumorite crystal that was somehow inside that panty.

The robot noticed me and froze. Its single camera lens focused on me, and then, to my shock, it waved.

“Uh… hi?” I said, stepping closer cautiously.

The robot tilted its body in what I could only describe as excitement. “Do you think they are pretty?” it beeped in a cheerful, robotic voice, pointing one if it’s eight robotic arms towards the direction of those lumorite crystals.

“They are. Is that why you have got a lot of them. People might think you are a smuggler.” I chuckled leaning back on a small rock.

“You sound like a nice person. Do you want to hear my story?” It asked with anticipation.

“What story?”

“A long one”

“Fine. Go on.”

CHAPTER 16 END