Rain. Heavy rain, this time: not just light drizzle. Private Eye looked over the chalk outline, the white particles beginning to flow into the gutter. The yellow tape around the street had been broken: some punks who thought they were clever getting into a crime scene, no doubt.
If it was up to him, he'd round up every offender and put them away. Unfortunately with Celestia's policy of forgiveness and tolerance, he was prohibited from doing that. Stuck scrambling to catch criminals and letting them go afterwards. What a waste of time. Private Eye had seen enough crime to know that most of them never changed. They'd be back doing their thing in no time.
At least even Celestia couldn't justify this. Whoever the killer was, they were getting put away for good. No escape from justice this time.
The silhouette seemed to be staring at him. Private Eye turned away. There was something about standing on the scene where somepony had died, something he couldn't explain. Something dark, something evil that ate away at his soul. He grimaced and left. A guardpony wasn't far away.
“We going to do anything about the scene, sir?” he asked. Private Eye shook his head.
“No. Let it get washed away into the gutters. We have pictures if ever.” he replied. “Shining got that Femme into interrogation?” he asked. The guard nodded.
“From what I know, yes sir.”
“Good. I'll be heading with the rest of the team to sweep Schwartz's place. Dismissed.”
_
Vinyl was still in shock. Octavia had never seen the pony like this before: she had always come off as tough, rugged, exactly the type of pony you'd expect being a DJ. This scared, almost tearful mare was something she had never thought of seeing. She held the cup of tea gingerly in her hoof and presented it to her.
“Here. Drink this, it'll make you feel better.” she said. Vinyl looked at the drink, confused.
“What is this?” she asked.
“Tea. It's from Trottingham.” she replied. She watched Vinyl sip from it: to her dismay, it didn't seem to do the trick. A shame, it often did with her. Perhaps tea wasn't for everypony.
“Uh, thank's, Tavi'.” she said, smiling gently. She then stared straight ahead. “You think they'll send to to jail for this?” she asked. Octavia winced.
“Not if I have anything to say about it, Vinyl.” she replied. Vinyl smiled half heartedly.
“Huh. If I knew getting arrested would get you to notice me, I'd have done it earlier.” she joked. Octavia didn't smile.
“I was a stupid pony. I... I was stupid.” she said, looking down. Vinyl shrugged.
“It's okay, 'Tavi. I don't care-” She replied, but was quickly interrupted.
“You should. I've been nothing but mean to you... treating you like trash. What on earth could you see in somepony like me?” she asked.
Vinyl paused, collecting her thoughts.
“You heard me, huh?” she asked. Octavia nodded.
“Yes. I don't understand, Vinyl.”
Vinyl shrugged. The DJ had to admit she hadn't thought about it too much. Eventually she gave her answer.
“I guess, when you played your cello, y'know, on the radio and for the albums, you looked like you enjoyed your music as much as me. That's all that really mattered. You could act like a bitch all you wanted, but I knew that deep down, you cared about something more than yourself.”
Octavia didn't reply. Vinyl tried getting a better viewpoint on her face. She didn't look happy. Not in an angry way, but in the kind of way that meant she was sorry. Regretful. Vinyl put her tea aside. She didn't particularly like it anyway, and put her hoof around Octavia.
“'Tavi, I don't care what you did, 'kay? You're a good pony, and that's all that matters to me.”
Octavia remained silent, but leaned into Vinyl a bit. The DJ took her weight gratefully. They remained that way for quite some time.
_
The Captain stormed into the room, his eyes filled with fire. Most ponies avoided him. One pony couldn't. He was like a heat-seeker missile when angry.
The guard knew he had been made. He held his head low when his boss arrived in front of him, bowing low before the storm.
“You're the one that let that whorse get into the interrogation room?” he asked. The guard nodded.
“Y-yes sir. She took me by surprise and-”
“You get to work filing. For the next three months.”
The guard swallowed.
“Y-yes sir.”
“Be glad I don't fire you.”
“I am, sir.”
“Good.”
The Captain left, stomping back to his office. The guard sighed.
At least he still had a job.
_
Dear Cadence,
I got punched today. By a suspect. She took our interrogation of her friend the wrong way. I guess, writing it down, it sounds understandable, but it was routine work. It's normal to lay onto a suspect if we think we can get them to confess, so we gave her a warning.
I guess that sounds wrong. Maybe we're wrong... I don't know. I'll always do my best, you know that, but sometimes, the way we do things... it's too dark for me. As if it's a cloak of black we have to wear to stop ponies wearing the same thing. I don't know. It's a stupid metaphor.
Can't you come back soon? I'm going crazy without you. I need to talk about this to somepony. Letters don't cut it and I don't think Private will understand.
I love you.
Shining Armour
_
Femme was sitting awkwardly in her chair. Shining strode inside, smug confidence evident everywhere upon him: his walk, his face, his voice.
“Hello there. Feeling comfortable?” he asked. Femme Fatale didn't respond. Shining sat down opposite her.
“You going to talk someday? Or am I going to be wasting my time and eventually have to send you to jail anyway?
“The fear trip won't work on me, officer.” Femme snapped.
“Ah, good. You're finally with us.” Shining declared, beaming broadly. Femme turned away. “You know you're going to get asked about the salt, right?”
Femme was silent. Shining sighed.
“If you don't talk, you'll have to deal with the captain.”
“I want my lawyer.” Femme responded. Shining remained emotionless.
“The Captain doesn't care about lawyers. You have heard about him, right?” he asked. Femme made no sound, but Shining knew he had her attention. “Come on, am I sending you to jail or not? I can lessen your sentence if you cooperate.”
“I never partook in any salt trade, okay?” she replied, a little on edge, which was understandable. Shining smiled.
“Good. Can you tell me anything about it?”
“No. I never paid attention to that stuff.” she replied.
A glance to the left, a furtive pursing of the lips. Shining frowned.
“No lies, please.”
Femme sighed.
“Okay, okay. I don't know who he was trading with, but it was on Cancer street. He always had to go there. I never took any of the salt, either. I didn't care for all that.”
“Yeah. You were just in it for the bucking, weren't you?”
Femme made no sound. Shining shrugged.
“I'm not judging. You're going to have to remain here for a bit until we get more evidence. Be a good girl.”
_
Private Eye didn't care much about the rain. He felt it reflected what he saw in ponykind. The stuff he'd seen had been just one long tale of tragedy. Although he had to admit that water was uncomfortable.
He spotted Shining quickly. He waved. It was best to get this thing under way. When they were close enough to speak, he did so.
“Got a lead from the marefriend?”
“Yeah. Salt trade is on Cancer street. It's unclear, but Doc Black mentioned Cancer street, right?”
Private Eye nodded.
“Yeah. You know, it'd be nice for this to be a murder for money, not just an angry husband or coltfriend.”
“Or marefriend.”
“Yeah.”
They both stopped talking and continued on their way. Cancer street wasn't too far, but under the rain they were making slow progress, their steps becoming wider to avoid their wet fur clogging up in their joints. Their limbs became heavier.
“You got a letter back from your princess?” Private asked. Shining nodded.
“Yeah. Read it before I wrote this next one.”
A small moment of quiet.
“She doin' okay?” Private asked.
“Yup. She's curious about the case. I think. You know how letters are, it's sometimes difficult to tell genuine talk from small talk.”
“I done a long distance relationship before, Shiny. It doesn't always work.” Private said, his voice dark. It was true: he had, and they hadn't.
Shining snorted.
“Neither do short distance ones. We seen enough of those to last a lifetime.”
“I'll give you that, Shiny. I'll give you that.”
They arrived on Cancer street: an entire district dedicated to the constellation of the crab. There were stores named for crabs, puns about crabs, and Cancer street this, and Cancer street that. As if ponies had forgotten it was also a disease. Shining would normally ignore the shops, the ponies, but today, he was looking for something. For anything.
“Know anypony in the salt trade who might be connected to this?” Shining asks. Private shrugs.
“A few. If I see any of them, I'll point them out.” he says. They keep on patrolling the street.
No sign of anything. Private is getting restless.
“This sucks. This would have been easier if we just bagged the DJ and got on with it.”
“If we're going to press charges, I want more than a letter and a bit of conjecture. You know as well as I do that we need more than that to condemn.”
“It wouldn't stop the Captain.”
“Well, the Captain can lock up whoever he wants, but unless I get enough evidence, I'm not going to.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'm just cranky because I'm bored.”
Shining let the subject drop. He continued scanning the streets.
A flash of fear from one of the ponies. He scanned him quickly: unicorn. Carrying a small bag. Could be salt.
“Got a possible suspect. Tag him, let's see where he goes.” Shining said. Private Eye looked over at the unicorn with the bag, he whistled quietly.
“Nicely spotted. Missed him completely. He's Junks. A known offender.”
Shining nodded, apprehensive.
“I think we have our guy then.” he muttered as they both moved to opposite sides of the street, following Junks, keeping an eye on him from afar. He looked scared. Probably his first time as a courier since Schwartz got killed.
Private Eye hit a large portion of crowd. He angrily pushed through them. Shining cursed.
The disruption was enough. Junks took one look at Private Eye, alerted by the scuffle, and bolted.
“Horsefeathers! After him!” bellowed Shining Armour. He pushed a few ponies aside, almost making them fall wildly to the wet ground, as he sprinted after Junks. “Canterlot Guard! Get out of the way!”
“Buck off, everypony!” screamed Private Eye, livid that he had been spotted.
Junks banked left into an alley, hoping to lose them there. Shining wasn't going to let him. He was fast: faster than Private Eye was. He was hot on the pony's heels as he followed him into the labyrinth of streets beyond.
It was strange how, only a few feet away from the main streets of Canterlot, you descended into a slummy maze of dirt and corruption. Shining shoved through a bunch of punks, who were probably already on salt, and tried to get a line of sight on Junks again.
He was climbing over a rotting wooden fence. It seemed to buckle under his weight as he threw himself to the other side. Shining growled.
His horn flickered to life. A purple bolt of energy shot from it and struck the fence dead centre. It shattered apart, and Shining cannoned through.
One bolt down, five left.
He stopped. He had lost sight of his quarry: he scanned his surroundings briefly, doing his best to see the elusive criminal, without success.
"Go left, dammit!" came Private's voice from above: the earth pony had clambered onto the top of one of the buildings during the chase and had a clear line of sight on Junks. Shining bolted once again. Junks had been hiding behind a pile of trash cans, hoping to go unnoticed. When he saw Shining approach, he shot out of hiding again.
Despite the head start, Junks was far closer, and desperately tried clambering up a drainpipe to escape. Shining knew that if he tried following, he'd just be kicked in the face, so instead he wrenched at the pipe, pulling it from the wall. Junks screamed as he fell a good few yards next to Shining, groaning as he rolled around in a puddle next to him. Shining picked up the bag, and opened it. It was overflowing with salt.
“You've been a naughty pony, haven't you?” Shining asked, panting. Private Eye caught up with him eventually. He growled as he saw Junks lying prone before him.
“Got hampered by civvies. Dumb ponies should move aside, police or no.” he said. Shining knew he was just complaining at this point. Private Eye would do that.
Shining tossed him the salt. Private took one look and smiled.
“Good, so I didn't just waste my breath. Do you want to start breaking his ribs, or shall I?” he asked. Shining saw the look of panic on Junks's face.
“You know we don't do that.” he replied tersely.
“I'm in a bad mood, and if it'll get me to somepony to accuse faster, I'm all for stomping on him until the cows come home.” Private responded, lifting his hoof over their prisoner.
Shining looked over at Junks. He then looked away.
“I won't stop you.” he eventually said. Private Eye grinned as he approached the pony.
“W-wait! It's the Griffon Cartel! I work for the Griffon Cartel!”
Shining nodded in approval.
“That was fast.” he commented. Private shrugged.
“I'm guessing he remembers me from that last time I caught him. Ain't that right?”
“Broke my bleedin' leg, that bastard...” Junks whimpered to Shining, whom he had recognized as the least violent of the two.
“Good for memory, that.” Private explained. Shining looked at him, disapproving.
“That's going too far.” he said, darkly. Private snorted.
“This guy's scum. His entire family's scum. He roughs up kids on their way back from school, you bet your arse I'm going to hurt him. You have a problem with that, take it up with the Captain. As far as I could tell, he condoned it.”
Shining dropped the issue. Sometimes there was no reasoning with Private Eye. He turned back to Junks.
“Who's in charge of the Cartel? Who do you take orders from?”
“... He calls himself Sodium. He's a griffon... real nasty...” Junks stammered. Shining Armour tried recalling the name, but without any success. Must be a new player. He looked over at Private.
“Don't know him.” he said, as if reading his thoughts. Shining grabbed Junks by the scruff of his neck.
“You're coming to HQ. Hope you enjoy sleeping in a cell.” he declared, cuffing the lowlife.
_
The Captain was not happy.
News of a new Cartel boss had arisen, and a scum-bag salt dealer locked in a cell, but very little to go on. No information, no location, and no certain link to the Schwartz murder.
“I don't care about some dumb salt traders! I care about killers! If I wanted you on a Vice case, I'd have stuck you in Vice! Now go and find the killer!” he had yelled.
Private Eye and Shining had been thus far unable to squeeze any other names or places out of Junks: he had dealt with a third party middle pony from home. As for a description, well, that hadn't gotten far. A mare, wore a heavy coat, face barely visible. So not much to go on.
And then there was the lawyer.
He had hit them with so many loopholes they would probably end up being bogged down, and unable to so much as bring Femme Fatale in for another week.
All in all, catching Junks had not made Shining's day much better. He sat at his desk, staring gloomily at his numerous papers and documents, absent mindedly pushing the button on the end of his pen, listening to the clicking sound it made.
Clickity.
He stared at a blank sheet of paper. He had already posted his last letter to Cadence, but something about this dissatisfying afternoon made him crave contact with her even more.
Clickity.
He took the paper and began writing.
_
Dear Cadence,
I guess I must be feeling pretty down these days. I don't think I've written this many letters since you first left. I hope your eyes don't get too tired.
I'm not operating on much sleep. A lot of things have happened. I suppose I'm just tired or something.
I don't even know what to write any more. I just know I want to. Does that make sense? Am I just being annoying, or do you feel this too? My postal bills must be through the roof. I don't think I care.
Private Eye's getting more restless too. Most ponies can't tell, but he's being more aggressive... more gloomy. We need to solve this case soon, or we're going to go mad.
I wish you were with me,
Shining Armour
_
Octavia looked out of the window, deep in thought. It was getting dark. It was always getting dark these days, she thought. There was something wrong with her life, and all she could see was a curtain of blackness.
She looked over towards Vinyl. She paused her train of thought momentarily. The white coat and bright, electric blue shocked her into sudden blindness.
Things... weren't all black, she reflected. Vinyl caught her looking at her and smiled, amused.
“What?” she asked. Octavia grinned and looked away.
“Ahem... nothing, Vinyl.” she replied. Vinyl tilted her head to the side. She wasn't wearing her glasses, Octavia noticed. She had almost never seen her without her glasses, even when they were strapped to her forehead, under her horn.
“Y'know, you've been here like... all day.” she commented. Octavia coughed, trying her best to figure out her response.
“Well, I, ahem. I wanted to make sure you were all right, after that awful treatment...” she said. She suddenly noticed Vinyl was much closer. Far too close.
“Well... I am all right. I think I've been all right all afternoon.” she said, her voice lowered. Octavia lowered her eyelids a little as she moved her muzzle closer to the pristine, perfect unicorn.
“I'm glad.” she responded, a little embarrassed she hadn't thought of anything better to say. She felt Vinyl's hoof run through her mane slowly.
Nothing but big, red eyes. Such a welcome change from the darkness of the night outside.
They didn't mind the small and cramped apartment any more, or the grim circumstances of their condition. They only cared about each other for that next minute, and didn't stop until they pulled away, back to reality.