It did not take long to get everything set up. The room in which Lens had been hiding in when Question had entered the security room, was perfect for an interrogation space. Small, dark, confined, it put pressure on the subject and forced them into a sense of hopelessness. To many it might sound cold, even cruel, but Question had seen the worst of ponykind before, he knew such things were a necessary evil.
Force the subject to sit furthest from the door, then sit on the other side, essentially trapping them in. The walls were a singular dark shade, making the room seem even smaller than it already was, a dull grey also made them boring and lifeless. One would find it difficult to distract themselves by staring off to the side. You would always be forced to return to the pony in front of you. If he didn't know any better, Question would've thought this room was made for this.
“Are you ready?” Lens asked, stepping inside.
“In a moment, just collecting my thoughts,” Question replied. He had remained in the space for about five minutes, blankly glaring at the table. Despite his knowledge of interrogation, he always hated this part.
“Want them to sweat it out?”
“You remember the Freaky Fuzzy Ursa Arcade?” He asked.
“Ugh, yeah. Course I do.”
“Reminds me of that case. Was done and dusted quickly, but I always liked to take my time with these things. Feels weird to already be doing interviews like this. Also now I’m thinking about those animatronics again,” he shuddered at the memory. It was a gruesome experience he did not want to repeat.
“Yeah, they were the worst.”
“It’s all gone strangely smoothly. Been a while since I’ve done a case like this, most of the ones I take nowadays involve missing pets and petty work for rich ponies. Thought I’d have more work rust I suppose.”
“You think somethings gonna go wrong?” Lens had a knowing smile.
“Maybe. More it’s this missing piece.”
“Piece?”
“You know I’ve figured this out right? Well most of it anyway.”
“I can’t say I’m surprised.”
“The issue isn’t the case itself, it's the one factor that ties all this together. There’s an element in this concoction that’s remained entirely hidden. The second I see it, I’ve got this. I’m just concerned I might miss it.”
“Don’t think that way. You’re good at your job, great even. It’s what you were put on this earth to do. You’ll smash this case wide open, I know you can.” Question Mark grew very quiet. It was so sudden that Lens Turner didn’t quite notice it at first, but the room grew deathly still. He returned to staring down at the table, his expression unreadable. Then he looked back up to Lens Turner in a way that made her jump. “What?”
“Just thinking about other cases is all. You remember Saddle Arabia?”
“Pardon?”
“The one with that flying elephant and ninja penguins?”
“Oh, oh YEAH! That one was crazy.”
“What about that time a bunch a pegasi airlifted an entire vault into Cloudsdale?”
“Yeah, I mean, how in tartarus did they think they could get away with that?”
And then Question Mark grew quiet again. The smirk vanished from his face and his eyes morphed into a cold stare that cut a hole straight through Lens Turner’s soul. She felt something stir within her. A feeling she had felt very rarely in her life. And as he prolonged his distrustful glare, that stirring sensation grew ever stronger, until she felt it might crawl out from her stomach. And then he smiled a toothy grin.
“Send in Spitfire would you?”
“... Yeah, sure.” Lens turned away as fast as she could and left the room. A few moments later she returned with the wonderbolt, and a new found sense of composure.
“Here we are then,” Spitfire began. “Been a while since I was on the receiving end of one of these.”
"You've been interrogated before?" Question inquired.
“Its disciplinaries for us,” she answered confidently, unfazed by her situation. "Don't tell anypony, but I was on the receiving end of quite a few when I was a rookie. I have the distinction for the most marks against my record to still make it as a Bolt. Nopony back then could dream I was gonna' graduate, let alone make Captain."
"That's because you're determined, aren't you?" He cut in before she could ramble further. "You're the kind of mare that doesn't let anything or anypony get in their way."
"You can tell?"
"I've known a few ponies such as yourself."
"Like Dashie, right?"
Question paused at her sudden remark. It was a strange comparison, although not an untrue one. He was more concerned as to why Spitfire would bring her up, while addressing her in such a casual manner.
"I know you're sweet on her, at least you better, cause damn, she's fallen for you hard!" She snorted and let out a cackle. This Spitfire was far more relaxed than the one he'd briefly met in the gallery. Spitfire was right, she was very similar to Rainbow. "She kept making eyes at you the entire time we were in the gallery. She's got an awful poker face."
"Dashie?" He murmured, still perplexed. He knew what Spitfire was doing, trying to control the room and lead the conversation her way, but he had to bite on that line. "Very casual of you, no?"
"The rookie is gonna be a Bolt, no doubt about that. The only living being to pull off a sonic rainboom, like that's not an immediate entry anywhere else. Honestly, I can't wait for the day I can drop rank with her and take her out for a drink. But she's a rookie, gotta establish respect first. It's all about respect."
"I concur," Question cut in fast. "Respect is the lifeblood of your industry. If you're not respected by your peers and superiors, do they listen to you? I imagine you deal with any signs of disrespect quite harshly."
"… You could say that." Spitfire said quietly, her bluster vanishing in an instant.
"Do you often deal with disrespect?"
"Depends."
"Depends?"
"Depends on what you qualify as disrespect. Talking back or disobeying orders, that's what I qualify as such."
"Would you consider failure as well?" Her eyes narrowed at him ever so slightly. "As in somepony setting you and your troop up to lose?"
Wordlessly, Lens Turner moved from blocking the doorway, to joining Question at his side of the table. Ordinarily he would have told her to keep guard of the exit, but against a pony like Spitfire? It wouldn't be much of a fight at all. The room grew a bit colder as the silence dragged on, the Captain worked her jaw as she searched for the right words to say.
"As I said before, I will not deny that I felt I was set up to fail all those weeks ago. I will also not deny that I have remained angry about the decision since then. You know the press didn't even focus on the fact the Princesses canceled the shows? Just on my failure to keep 'em running. I have been bombarded by article after article all proclaiming the end of my run, that my resignation is imminent, when I'm still in the midst of my prime. I even had recruits start looking at me funny, like I'm an old mare meant to be put to pasture. That stuff beats you down like nothing else."
"If you let it get to you, their prophecy will be fulfilled," Question added gently.
"Don't I know it, that's why I refuse to let it beat me. And the last thing I would do is all of this. To paint a giant target right on my flank for petty revenge. It would be the end of me, and an eternal black mark on the Bolts."
"I believe you," Question exclaimed.
"You do?" Spitfire and Lens asked in surprise.
"Truth be told, I never thought it was you. You had far too much to lose if it all went wrong. The only points working against you are your natural abilities, and the fact you have a known associate in Soarin, but none of it adds up to anything substantial. You have the least to gain out of everypony here, and arguably the most to lose."
"So what now?"
"Now you may go. This was for formality really. I'll have you stay till the culprit is revealed to clear the air. Trust me, it won't take long."
Question turned away to look at the notes before him. Spitfire nodded gently, thankful that the experience was over and went to hop off her seat, when Lens Turner caught her attention.
"A quick word, Captain?"
"Yes?"
"I don't mean to pry, it's kind of my job, but I've done quite a few articles on Princess Luna, I’ve interviewed her several times in fact. You should know she meant no malicious intent towards you."
Spitfire found herself lost for words at Lens' statement. The comment piqued Question’s interest as well as he pulled away from his notepad and glared at her strangely.
"She's flawed, like anypony. I obviously don't know for sure, but I imagine she was trying to teach a lesson, like her sister. But this is all new to her. She comes from a starkly different time than ours. How things are governed and even basic social etiquette has been flipped on its head. My best guess, she thought giving you time to reflect would help grow you as a leader by putting you in an unbeatable challenge. She suspended the Shadowbolts as well, did she not? Her own guard."
"Yes, she did. I wont deny that. But the idea that my squad were just a trial run at her attempts at ruling doesn't sit much better for me."
"Then maybe the best thing to do is hash it out. They run the night courts you know? Doesn't take much to just walk up to her door. She's a much better listener and far more understanding than many presume. She might surprise you."
"Yeah, maybe," the Captain sighed, looking noticeably deflated.
"Better than sulking and growing bitter about it, I suppose," Question added.
Spitfire said nothing else as she nodded at both of them, then walked out the door. Neither could be sure Lens' words had any real effect on her, but it at least seemed to give her something to ponder over.
"That was surprisingly mature of you," Question spoke up after a brief interlude of silence.
"I have my moments," she beamed back at him. The look he gave her was a strange one, as if he was looking right through her again. Then he cleared his throat and returned to his notepad.
"Could you fetch Miss Nothings, please?"
On the other side of the museum, a grand experiment was about to begin. In most situations, Daedalus would have kept following his dear friend, but he had grown restless and interrogations often bored him, so instead he had decided to break off and follow along with the other half of Question’s plan.
He was starting to wish he hadn’t. After their stern march to the underground labs of the museum, the only thing of note to transpire was Gumshoe sending off a hastily written note. Since then they had been taking part in the King’s least favourite activity; the waiting game. It was now him, Gumshoe, Rainbow, Scootaloo and a few guards waiting around for something to happen. The rest of the suspects were still kept at bay by the rest of forces, Gulliver now among them. Theoretically, Daedalus could leave at any moment, but the monarch found himself getting caught up in a sunk cost fallacy. The longer he waited, the more certain he was that his patience would be rewarded.
The room itself was your typical setup. There were microscopes, scanners and intense lighting all about him. It did not take long for him to realise that this was likely a dedicated area for examining the artwork in the museum, and any and all paintings that passed through. There was likely an entire team on hoof whose job was to confirm the authenticity of each and every portrait. One thing did stick out to him though that was rather odd, and the King wasn’t the only one to notice.
“Wow, this room sure is dusty,” Scootaloo nervously chuckled. The entire aesthetic rang eerie for her. “Like it's kinda abandoned.”
“Place just opened back up, Squirt,” Dash spoke up. “Probably just hasn’t been used for a while.”
“Bit weird that,” Gumshoe muttered. He had been pacing up and down the entire time, his eyes scanning over every detail. “This place should have been active. They’d need to look over all the portraits as they entered the exhibit. The curators should have been working overtime.”
“... So what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I understand why Question was so insistent on grabbing somepony from outside of Trottingham.”
Just as he spoke, the curious group heard heavy breaths reach down to them from the top of the stairs. A disheveled mare bounded her way along the steps and nearly plowed through Gumshoe. She pulled the brakes just in time to prevent a disastrous collison. A few seconds later and she would have impaled him with her horn. She stood there for a few moments, utterly out of breath and staring in bewilderment at the stallion before her. Eventually she reached out her hoof.
“Artistic Touch. Pleasure.” She spoke through her gasps of air.
“Detective Gumshoe,” He replied, bumping her hoof.
“Sorry I’m late,” she bowed her head. She was a lanky, frail thing. Her lime green coat matched her chocolate brown mane, purely off colour scheme alone, she resembled a sweet more than an art connoisseur.
“Don’t worry, love, I understand this was all last minute. You’re here earlier than I expected.”
“I understand you requested aid from outside Trottingham. I was visiting family when I got the call to come down. This is supposed to be urgent apparently?”
“That it is, we need-”
“Who the heck is this?” Rainbow questioned in her typical brash manner. “Is this who we’ve been waiting for this whole time?”
“Miss Touch here is…. Well I don’t know what you’d call it, but she looks over paintings and the like.”
“Archivist, I’m an archivist. My duties require me to maintain and watch over the various artworks and collections that come through our galleries. This includes portraits, documents, sculptures, pretty much anything really,” her exhausted state was quickly replaced with a bright smile and whimsical lift in her tone. She was a mare who loved to talk about her job.
“Uh huh,” Rainbow responded, barely registering what she had just said. “And you’re here cause…?”
Rainbow never quite got an answer to her question, as Artistic - Art to her friends - noticed the state of the room they all occupied. Her mouth was left agape as she found herself overcome in a mix of shock and horror.
“What’s the meaning of this?” She yelled loudly. “When was the last time this room was cleaned? Let alone occupied?”
“Trust me, you’re asking a question that’s been on all our minds,” Gumshoe nodded towards her. “If you need something cleaned, let us know, but right now I need you to focus on this.”
Gently he led her across the room to where a certain portrait was now resting on the centre most table. Art let out a horrified screech as she looked down upon the remains of what was one of the most coveted works of art in the history of Equestria. Gumshoe maintained his grip on her shoulders in fear she might collapse at any moment. Rainbow could only give a roll of her eyes while Scootaloo joined in alongside her.
“WHO DID THIS?” Her horror quickly switched to rage.
“We don't know,” Gumshoe answered. “That’s what we're trying to work out now. We need you to-”
Gumshoe didn’t get the chance to say anything further as Art went straight to work. Understandably she focused on the black markings left upon Luna’s visage. The old detective took a few steps back before letting out a sigh of relief. A deathly silence built up around them as the Archivist simmered in her anger. Finding it hard to bear, Scootaloo spoke up first.
“So what now?”
“We wait,” was all Gumshoe said.
“Seriously?” Dash said with a sigh.
“‘Fraid so. Not much else we can do now but give it time, and hope Question’s gamble pays off.”
“If it does?” Dash pressed.
“Then all this falls into place, and more than one arrest will be made tonight.”
“... And if it doesn’t?” Scootaloo asked quietly, fearful of the answer.
“Then I might be kissing my career goodbye.”
Sweet sauntered in with a swagger that was all her own. Even in such a claustrophobic space she found a way to effortlessly control the room. It was as natural as breathing for her, an art she’d perfected after decades of practice. Question kept a careful eye on Sweet the entire way as she met his glare with a lustful gaze of her own. Even now he felt something tug at his heartstrings, something primal he wrongly thought he was above. She was truly a dangerous mare indeed.
“Take a seat,” he ordered, maintaining his flimsy composure.
She said nothing at first as she sauntered over to him. There was a noticeable discomfort emanating from Lens Turner. She had no clue how best to react to what was happening, but instead of joining him at the table, this time she chose to remain at the door. Silver sat down slowly, drawing out the moment as she finally addressed him.
“Nice place you have here. It’s very cozy.”
“We won't be here long,” Question replied, not allowing her to derail the point of this interrogation.
“That’s fine by me. A lot can happen between two ponies in a cramp room. No matter how much time you have.”
Lens Turner coughed uncomfortably behind them. She reached for the door handle behind her.
“Hey, I think you got this one,” she murmured. “I’ll just be outside.”
Question Mark could only sigh in exasperation as Lens bowed off the stage. There were now two players in this game, and Sweet clearly had the advantage.
“You see? Two ponies in a cozy little space. All on our lonesome.”
“I’m not your usual mark, y’know?”
“And what do you mean by that?”
“I think you and I both know the little games you play. First thing I do once the initial investigation gets on the way, I try and establish an M.O. for every pony involved. Yours I think is quite simple, as you haven’t been exactly subtle about it. You ‘entertain’ richer stallions, con them or blackmail them for every bit they're worth, then move on to the next sap. Am I right so far?”
“Heh, you got me,” she answered with a smug grin. “It's not glamorous work… well actually, it kind of is. The gowns and makeup pretty much pay for themselves these days.”
“And clearly you’ve got something hanging over Counter’s head like it's a noose. He’s a married stallion, is he not?”
“Not happily.”
“I figured as much,” Question grimaced. It reminded him of some of his dirtier work, finding proof of affairs. He hated it. Even when he did a job well done, nopony ever left happy over it. And the rare few who did seemed to have been driven mad long ago. It always descended into a game of ‘how many bits can I get out of the cheating bastard.’ “Outside of your little spat at Rainbow Dash in the gallery, you’ve seemingly been unfazed by all of this. Not bored are you?”
“No, not at all. I have to say, this has been a very fun evening for me. I love a good challenge.”
“Then let's cut to the chase here and establish something, I know you didn’t do it.”
“Oh?” Sweet found herself taken aback by Question’s sudden admission.
“None of it would make sense if you did. Your presence alone seems to give the Baron a heart attack. You’ve still got whatever material you have on him regardless, so why put yourself in the firing line like this? It’s utterly pointless, and you’re clearly not a fool, Miss Nothings. You’ve played your games long enough to avoid the wrong kind of trouble.”
“Charmer,” she breathed out, winking at the Detective.
“So now I come to two separate points; the first, you may have something of use for me.”
“Might I now?” Sweet stroked her front hoof against his, trailing it up his hindleg. The act was so subtle, so gentle, that Question almost failed to notice. Yet the tantalising mark she left lingered against his body. It took all his willpower to ignore her.
“Second, I know why you’re trying very hard to get ‘cozy’ with me.” He looked forward, unfazed by her advances.
“I told you, I like a challenge.”
“Bullshit,” Question fired back. “You don’t do anything without a reason, am I right? At best I’m a fun distraction, but that’s not enough to continue flirting with danger. You’re after something from me.”
Question Mark pulled away and leant back in his chair, shooting his target a stern glare. For the briefest moment, Sweet’s playful and flirtatious aura snapped into a vindictive one. Her brow furrowed and her jaw clenched, but then she softened again just quick enough that most anypony would have assumed it was their eyes playing tricks on them. But the Detective was not so easily led astray. Silver cleared her throat and spoke again.
“And pray tell what could you offer me?” She giggled. “I mean no offence, Sweetie, but you’re clearly not from money. I doubt you have much to your name at all. So what could I want from you?”
“Oh it's not bits you're after, not mine anyway.” Question leant forward again, purposely getting in the face of Sweet Nothings. Once more he unbalanced her, just long enough to see her mask drop. “You want my silence instead.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Let’s go back to point one, how can you help me? Well you see, I suspect you know Counter Fiet quite well indeed. In fact I’m pretty sure you know dirty secrets about him that he doesn’t know that you know.”
“You have proof of this?”
“No, just a little hunch.”
“Seems unwise of you, Detective,” she spoke a little harsher than before.
“Maybe, but I don’t get hunches very often, and when I do, they're usually good. So if we go off the logic that I’m right, then it makes even more sense as to why you're so insistent on keeping my eyes off the prize.” He didn’t wait for her to answer, he sat back in his chair and gave her a smug smile. “You don’t want to lose your meal ticket.”
“Oh please,” Sweet scoffed, not missing a beat. “Like I don’t have several other stallions lined up back home to take the place of one.”
“I don't doubt that to be true, but even if they can get you the money you want, they can't give you what you really crave.”
“And what would that be?”
“Power.” They entered a brief staring match, neither breaking their gaze from the other. “Counter Fiet is the top dog of the pack, the biggest name in this whole city. If he wanted too, I bet you he would have wiped you off the face of the earth by now. Yet he hasn’t, which implies two things; you’re useful, and you’ve got dirt on him that would not only result in the end of his marriage, but the end of his entire world. Am I still off?”
“These are a lot of assumptions you’ve been making, and you know what they say about assuming?” Sweet flicked her hair, gearing herself up for one more go. She poked up her shoulders and fluttered her eyelashes, her words turned into hot spoken breath as she gave Question the full might of her sultry stare. “We both know this doesn’t end well for you.”
“Oh?”
“If he is as powerful as you assume, then what makes you think you’ll beat him? Counter has always gotten flustered the second things don't go his way, he’s a stallion of habit you could say. Yet he always walks away with his head held high. He’s too rich, too well connected for anything to rattle him for too long. You might have a bullet to bring him down with, but all it will do is bounce off like it was nothing more than scrunched up paper.”
“What if it was a silver bullet? A silver bullet that knows every single one of his little plans? That could point and lead specialist teams to exactly what they need in order to bring very important ponies back down to earth?”
“Well I’m sorry to say, that silver bullet has no chamber to fit in. It won't be fired unless it wants to, and I promise you, she doesn’t.”
“Are you both still talking about the case, or…?” Both Sweet and Question craned their necks around to find Lens had walked back in. She looked as uncomfortable as before, and quickly turned back out the door. “I’ll come back later.” She murmured as the door closed behind her.
“No, I don’t imagine you would, not without a very good reason,” Question surmised, looking almost crestfallen.
“Then at least let's not waste the night,” Sweet kicked her advances back in, gently taking the Detective’s hoof into hers. “Sure, your case went bust, but I can make it up to you. All you have to do is go back to your friend and tell him to walk away. Everypony will be much happier then. You, especially.”
He fixed her hoof with a curious stare. It was as primed and refined as she, but there was a small mark of dirt hidden beneath her coat. He grimaced and then quite suddenly smiled again. His grin quickly unnerved Sweet, who retracted her hoof as she realised something was wrong.
“Oh Miss Nothings, you stuck your hoof in the cookie jar one to many times, haven’t you?”
“I’m sorry?”
“You know what’s happening right now? I have requested the help of the Fillydelphia art association to send a member to examine these fine paintings. I think you and I both know what they’re going to find.”
“I don’t have a clue what you mean.”
“Oh, you do. Can’t go back to playing innocent now. But there’s the problem, you’re right, without all the right bits of ammo, I’m not taking Counter down. However, his associates wont be so fortunate. There will still be evidence of fraud, and the ponies involved won't stay hidden for long. Every single one of them is looking to be taken out in the crossfire, unless one key associate provides me with just the right material to deal the killing blow. Then I’ll happily arrange for her to receive her own bulletproof vest.”
“Even I’m unsure if we're still talking about this case now,” Sweet admitted, letting out a nervous chuckle. Her smile was faltering, the Detective noticed her breathing was becoming more shallow. She was nervous. She no longer had control of the room.
“Let me make this very clear to you; I do not have evidence that you are connected to his dirty dealings. I promise you though, I will find it. So now you’ve got to start asking yourself something? Cause since we started this you’ve mentioned more than once I’m a good detective. How good do you really think I am? How badly do you want to bet that I wont find a direct link to you? Enough to stake your freedom? Is the pathetic power you laud over a stallion of high stature truly worth the end of this life of yours?”
Sweet Nothings wasn’t smiling, nor was she putting on another seductive form. She was scared. Very rarely in her life did she truly feel like she had lost control. Everything from top to bottom had to be in perfect working order, just the way she liked it. One slip up wouldn’t bring her down, but this was a catastrophe. She had covered herself so well over the years, by all logical reasoning she should have full plausible deniability. Yet the doubt remained. It would take one error, one miscalculation and all would tumble down upon her.
“And that will be all,” Question finished. He turned back to his notepad and shooed her away. “Off with you now.”
“Wait, that's it?”
“I have nothing more to say, the rest is up to you. When the time comes, and you’ll know when, you either get to put yourself in harms way, or live another day. I reckon we both know exactly what you’re going to do.”
He refused to meet her stare as she looked at him oddly. In her physical appearance, she tried to emit a flippant and confident aura, but in the depths of her mind she knew the game was over. She knew he was serious with his threat, that no matter what, somepony was gonna pay for all of this. It was now up to her to decide if she believed him when he said she could still walk free.
“This is taking forever,” Rainbow groaned loudly, unashamed at who might hear her.
“Patience,” Daedalus replied softly, knowing she would not hear him. He did not care though, as much like Artistic, he was studying every detail of Luna’s portrait.
“Here, got you one too,” Gumshoe returned, having disappeared upstairs moments ago. He handed her a coffee which she gladly took.
“Thanks, thought I was gonna drop off there.”
“These things always take time. You gotta cover all your bases before you go mouthing off with any accusations.”
“So the complete opposite of what Quest did today?”
“Heh, crazy bastard has always been like that. He’ll preach the slow and steady approach like the flaming gospel, but when he gets fired up he’ll get ahead of himself. Used to be really bad back in the day, nearly cost himself a few cases cause he was prone to pointing hooves before he had all the cards in his deck.”
“You’ve known him for ages then?”
“I was ten years on the job when we first bumped into one another. He was a real shy asshole.” He chuckled loudly, taking another sip.
“In what way?”
“One minute he’s quiet, self-conscious, acts like a pubescent about to ask a girl out for a dance.”
“I know what you mean,” Dash smiled knowingly to herself.
“Then the next, boom, he does one eighty the minute he’s on the clock. I was convinced at one point he was a bloody schizo with the way he jumped back and forth. But that’s just how he is.”
“Guess I’m learning a lot about him today,” she sighed, looking into her mug.
“You’re sweet on him, aren’t you?” He asked quietly. Rainbow looked around in a panic, noting Scootaloo had joined Artistic Touch and was out of earshot. “Relax, had a feeling you two weren’t public yet.”
“How’d you know?”
“Quest. I mean really?” Rainbow blushed. “Also, he doesn’t have a lot of mates. Let alone taking anypony with him on a trip. I figured something had to be going on between you two. He keeps himself to himself.”
“Yeah, I guess it’s still early days.”
“This your first time seeing him work?”
“Yeah, and I see what you mean now. I’ve never seen him like this before. Like he was always a dork, but a nice dork. He always made an effort to connect to me with what I was doing or interested in, but looking at him now he’s like a completely different pony.”
“Take it from somepony old enough to know, it's better you find out now than later down the road. Now you gotta ask yourself what comes next.”
“What do ya mean?”
“A lot of young couples don't deal with the problems in front of them. They let it build up inside them until it explodes in the worst possible way. First, you need to come to grips with something; this is a part of the fella you like. Then you gotta decide if you can accept that, and if you’re willing to talk to him about it. Communication is key in any relationship. If you can't be honest with your partner, you might as well walk away there and then.”
“Why are you telling me all this?” She asked, bewildered by the sudden shift in conversation. “Are you my therapist now?”
“I’m on my third marriage, kiddo, and Question, I’m one of the closest things he’s got to a real pal. I want him to be happy. So if this is a waste of time for both of you, it’s best you come to terms with that now.”
Dash took a long pause as she let his words settle in. She liked Question, but did she like this side of Question? They were the same pony after all, as easy as it would be to disassociate the two, that wouldn’t do either of them any favors. She worried she was being overly emotional, that she took his cold treatment of her too hard when he had treated most everypony today the same way. Yet not Lens, nor Gumshoe, he trusted them in a heartbeat. He didn’t trust her.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Gumshoe spoke up.
“He doesn’t trust me, does he?”
“He doesn’t trust easy. In this line of work you rarely do. He has to consider all angles, no matter how absurd they are.”
“Do you think he really thought I did this?”
“I wasn’t here at the start, but from what I know, you were one of the few in the room at the time the lights went out. He has to treat every single one of you the same. Any bias, good or bad, threatens any investigation.”
“But Lens Turner was in the… room…” Rainbow scrunched up her face and went very still. She felt something click in her brain and she struggled to process it.
“Something the matter?”
“He didn’t suspect Lens Turner. Yet she was in the room with us… but she wasn’t. I saw her in the corner of my eye near the entrance, then the lights went out and she was gone.” Rainbow’s stomach twisted into knots as she felt like something was very wrong.
“You alright, Rainbow?” Gumshoe nudged the mare.
“... Look after the Squirt for me.” She didn’t say another word as she retreated back upstairs and out of sight. Gumshoe considered chasing after her, but knew he had to keep an eye on the scene here.
The aforementioned Squirt had been marveling at Artistic’s work for sometime now. She watched closely as the elder mare shifted from inch to inch across the surface of the painting, studying every meticulous detail. What had started as the very slow and delicate process of removing the graffiti had morphed into anything but. She looked noticeably distressed as she smacked her hoof against a strange apparatus.
“What are you doing?” She asked
“Having a crisis.” She replied.
“Eh?”
“You’ll see,” she cleared her throat. “Mr. Gumshoe?”
“Aye, everything alright here?”
“I require a working UV light. The one in this facility is seemingly broken.”
“Huh, that’s strange, take it that's important for a place like this?”
“It most certainly is.”
“Even stranger considering the whole place just got refurbished.”
“You're catching on quick, for all our sakes, stop there for now. Fetch me a new one, please.”
He tipped his hat to her and rushed towards one of the guards. While Scootaloo was at a loss as to what was actually happening, she could sense it wasn’t anything good. Daedalus who had been hovering over them grew very aware of everything and everypony around them. This was a big city, a city in a lot of debt to a certain family, and that family would have loyalists and sympathisers everywhere. While the king had faith in his loyal subject, he would have been lying if he said he did not favor Question’s chances.