The Third Letter: The Missing Plaster Statue
The art club president gave me a puzzled look at my words.
"...The windowsill? Sure, there's a slight ledge, but it's barely the length of a fingernail. Putting a huge plaster bust in such a narrow spot..."
"It's not big," Elaine cut in, answering the president.
Aurora chimed in right after, continuing the explanation. "It would only be about two or three finger joints in size."
The art club president looked incredulous at their words. "No way. Even so, how could you mistake a large bust sculpture for something as tiny as two or three finger joints..."
"That's the optical illusion," Elaine interrupted again, pressing on with the explanation. "Perspective is a principle where the human eye perceives distant objects as smaller and nearby ones as larger. If a small plaster model placed on the windowsill lines up exactly with the gaze toward the deep interior of the warehouse—right where the original statue had been—it would look far away when viewed from outside through the window. That alone would be enough to trick the eye into seeing it much larger than it really is. Add in the distortion from the glass pane and the obstructed view of the dark warehouse interior, and mistaking a tiny model for the full-sized statue becomes all too easy."
Aurora added her piece. "The art club warehouse appears completely sealed from the outside, with no way to see inside—except for that one small window at the entrance. When the only vantage point is limited to that single spot, creating an artificial illusion isn't hard at all. There's no other reference point to correct it. And with the door closed, even if someone sensed something off, they couldn't just go in to check."
Having the words stolen right out from under me by Elaine and Aurora, I awkwardly glanced around at the students before clearing my throat and picking up where they left off. "So, the plaster statue Lily made wasn't a full-sized replica at all. It was a miniature version, just about one finger joint tall. That size is why Lily could finish it before the end of the school day without being late."
I turned to Dollorens. Our eyes met, and she flinched in surprise. "On Tuesday, you said Lily forgot to clean up supplies, so you didn't need to open the warehouse at the start of after-school activities, right? That wasn't a mistake. Because if anyone actually opened the door and went inside, Lily's miniature statue trick would be completely exposed. So she deliberately pulled out all the supplies needed for the next day ahead of time, moving them from the warehouse to the art room."
The puzzle pieces were falling into place one by one, the story's outline coming into focus. "...Though she managed to prevent the door from opening that next morning, she couldn't stop it from being opened after school."
Then Dollorens shouted as if remembering something. "Ah, come to think of it, the thud I heard must have been when I grabbed the door to open it!"
"The vibration from gripping the handle probably knocked over the little statue on the windowsill," I said. With that, I stepped through the students and grabbed the warehouse door. "The plaster dust still here on the floor? That's from the miniature statue scraping against the sill as it fell."
The art club president asked, "So where did that miniature plaster statue disappear to?"
At his question, I smiled and flung the warehouse door wide open. It swung fully back against the opposite wall, sweeping up the dust and small debris in front of it—and vanishing them into the space behind the door.
"...Like this, the shattered pieces of the miniature statue that fell to the floor were simply swept behind the door when it opened. The warehouse was dark, the pieces were hidden behind the door, and everyone's attention was fixed on the spot where the statue had vanished. So Lily must have snuck back later to clean up the fragments. All except this one piece."
I held up the fragment I'd found as I spoke. It was a shard from a statue carved to a size smaller than a fingernail.
Lily's face drained of all color at the sight, and she collapsed limply to the ground. Tears streaming down her cheeks unchecked, she sobbed repeatedly through her apologies. "I-I'm sorry... I'm really, truly sorry..."
And with that, she confessed everything.
She was a poor commoner scholarship student, admitted purely on talent without any noble background or connections. The moment she broke the statue, she thought a commoner like her would be slapped with a compensation fee she'd spend her life paying off. So she quickly hid the shattered pieces and tried to cover it up with a miniature plaster stand-in.
She figured if she could secretly restore the broken statue perfectly and put it back before her miniature trick was discovered, everything would be fine.
But contrary to her plans, her trick unraveled far too easily the very next day. Her shift partner that day happened to be the prickly third-year senior, Dollorens—a senior she could never easily approach even on normal days. Lily tried to offer to take Dollorens's warehouse duty instead, but Dollorens snapped at her and refused. Unable to argue back, Lily could only fidget anxiously and watch helplessly as the missing statue was discovered.
For Lily, it felt like the world was crumbling.
But luckily, a student who had seen the camouflage plaster model she made on Monday—Muchi Leoporte—backed up her alibi. Thanks to her same-year classmate vouching for her innocence, that held up. But this time, it backfired: rumors of a plaster statue ghost story started spreading, and Lily missed her chance to confess, left agonizing in worry.
Her only remaining hope was to restore the statue as quickly as possible and sneak it back to its original spot for the perfect crime.
But even that dream ended when the Paranormal Investigation Club came knocking at the art club.
Dollorens, dumbfounded by Lily's tearful confession, asked, "W-what? M-me, scary? Why would I be!?"
The art club president burst out laughing at that. "Puhaha! That's why I told you to smile more! You go around frowning all the time, scaring the underclassmen!"
Dollorens's face flushed red as she snapped back at the president. "No! I'm not mad or anything—I'm just naturally low-pressure!"
The art club students were more baffled or relieved than angry at the full story. The mood wasn't as grave as expected.
"...Huh? You're not mad?" Lily even asked in surprise.
But Dollorens just smiled. "Nah. Breaking senior alumni works happens a few times a year like clockwork. I'd bet half the members in this club have accidentally wrecked something stored in the warehouse."
The president, who had been laughing uproariously at Dollorens, cleared his throat and tried to sound dignified as a senior. "Besides, if it were truly valuable, it wouldn't be shoved in a corner of this warehouse. The seniors who made the statue you broke probably smashed even older ones themselves—so don't sweat it."
Suddenly, Dollorens grinned mischievously as if struck by a thought. "Hey, the statue you dropped—didn't it break into exactly three pieces, right along the pectoralis major?"
"...Huh? How did you know that, Senior Dollorens...?"
Lily's eyes went wide. Now it was Dollorens's turn to burst into laughter, while the president made a sour face.
"Ahaha!! Of course I know! That statue? This president here already dropped and shattered it back when he was a first-year!"
"H-hey! Why tell a first-year that?!" The president yelled, lunging to cover Dollorens's mouth.
And with that, the "Art Club's Missing Plaster Statue" incident was resolved.
.
. . .
Having solved the mystery, we left the Central Club Building amid the art club's warm send-off. Laughter from the still-giggling students echoed from afar.
Lily's expression looked much lighter now, whether from unburdening her secret or receiving forgiveness.
"Looks like this wraps up the contents of the third letter too."
"Good thing it wasn't a real ghost story!" Rone said with a bright smile, clearly relieved it wasn't tied to any supernatural incident.
"Still, it didn't turn out too seriously. If we'd caused someone major trouble, I wouldn't have felt right. But..."
Elaine let out a quiet sigh.
"We couldn't solve it faster than Teacher again this time," Aurora murmured regretfully.
Elaine and Aurora looked at me like they'd lost once more.
"What're you getting all worked up about? You figured out the answer in the end anyway."
"But that was only thanks to your hints, Teacher."
"You practically spoon-fed us, and now you want praise too?" Aurora shot back without yielding.
They'd seemed deflated after the second letter, so I'd given them a little nudge...
"You two are so picky," I said, but compared to the first or second letters, they seemed in better spirits now that they'd nailed the solution.
In that atmosphere, Rone jumped in energetically. "Then let's quickly read the fourth letter! Who knows—maybe it's just another ordinary one!"
She hadn't shone in solving it, but her cheer was infectious. Figuring things out wasn't her role anyway.
"Sure, sure." I nodded casually and unfolded the final letter in high spirits.
And...
All our faces stiffened.