To say the night turned awkward was an understatement. Soprano knew this well, hence her early retirement from the evening after her announcement. Though she used a quick trip to the little filly’s room as an excuse to find privacy, she knew she would be bombarded with countless questions concerning what she expected to be a controversial moment. Even so, it had to be done. Whether it led to her desired outcome was completely up to fate.
She had a slight headache. Perhaps it was from her first glass of wine from earlier in the evening, a traditional rite of passage among nobility upon reaching eighteen. More likely though, it was just subconscious stress from the gala party kicking in, not to mention the unrestful nap. Over the past hour, the party had died down and most everypony had gone home for the night. Pretty soon, her fiance and family would be turning in as well.
She decided to switch out of her evening dress and into something more casual. By now, few of the guests would still be around, but some of her friends would be lingering. Not many ponies, but just enough needed. After she was finished and walked back downstairs, she received a tap on the shoulder, followed by a familiar male voice. “Darling? Do you have a moment? I need to talk to you.”
("Right on cue,") Soprano sighed and followed her father into the dining hall. “Yes daddy, what do you need?” she replied, even though she already knew the answer.
Falsetto walked her to her seat across from Sleuth and his family. Father Slewfoot had a concerned expression as he always did when he sensed one of his kin was troubled. His wife shared an equally concerned expression, but the son, Soprano’s beloved fiance, had what appeared to be a restrained looked about him. It was like he had something on his mind, but was holding back.
“Dear?” Falsetto said as he sat down at the table between her and his wife. “I wanted to talk about earlier this evening. I’m--”
“I know, you’re unnerved by what I said and why I did it.”
“Well… Yes. Both myself, your mother, and the Slewfoots are concerned as well, especially Sleuth.”
“Why wouldn’t we all?” Soprano said a flat casual tone. “I just dared the city’s most famous criminal to steal our family heirloom. It’s not really something that occurs often.”
“Yes but why did you do it?”
Soprano looked at the stallion across from her. Sleuth remained relatively calm compared to the others in the room. There was a silent nod between them, after which Soprano cleared her throat, a nervous one that she could not mask very well, despite being a high grade actress. This was a different situation than what she was used to.
The unicorn cop sat up in his chair and assumed a serious posture for the discussion. “Listen, we need to talk about tonight.”
“Yes, indeed we do,” Soprano crossed her hooves. “I suppose you want to know about it? I’ll tell you why.” She stood up and leaned toward him, jabbing her hoof in his chest when she got too close as she could. It was an absurd thought, but as he was now he almost seemed intimidated by the mare nearly ten years younger than him. At least, it looked that way. “I’m disappointed in you, Sleuth Slewfoot.”
The eyes of all around them widened greatly with that blunt statement. She was showing a side of herself the public usually did not see.
“I… I beg your pardon?”
“You call yourself an officer of the law. You have sworn yourself to serving and protecting, yet you can’t even defend a little amulet.”
“That’s what this is about?!” Sleuth shouted incredulously, stomping his hooves on the table. “Look, I know I didn’t succeed this time, but this is the first case I worked here in Las Pegasus! You can’t expect--”
“I’m not talking about that. This isn’t about your failure over the case.” Soprano got right into Sleuth’s face, a small challenge given the noticeable height difference between them. “I’m sick of your whining! Ever since that night, you just couldn’t stop complaining about it! The guy made a fool of you, you’re angry, I get it. Well you know what? I decided to set up a rematch between you and Facade. If you don’t stop bitching it, you might as well give him your ring!”
“Ring?” Sleuth paused for a second to let it sink in exactly what Soprano was implying. “Are you… Are you actually threatening to call off the marriage?! Over this?!”
“Dearest Soprano?” Falsetto stumbled, trying to defuse the situation. “Don’t you think you’re being unfair to Sleuth? He moved all the way out here just to be with you and us, surely you can’t kick him out? That’s simply preposter--”
Falsetto faltered as Soprano shot an uncharacteristic glare at him.
“That all depends on Inspector Slewfoot. I don’t know about you, but I can’t help but feel a little unsafe marrying a police officer who can’t even defend a little coin-shaped treasure. Surely you both can understand where I’m getting at?”
She made a valid point. Assuming she was even considering the family’s reputation, Falsetto could not argue the logic, despite how low it made him feel for questioning the family friends. Sleuth himself didn’t even respond with any counter argument.
“Consider this a test,” Soprano declared as she started walking away from the table. “If you can succeed in protecting my heart before the premier of my performance, then the wedding will proceed as planned. If Facade manages to steal my heart, then I am ending this engagement. Now if you excuse me, I’m going to take a bubble bath before going to bed. I’m not in the mood for dinner anymore.”
As Soprano passed right by Sleuth on the way to the door, she locked eyes with him and her annoyed look changed to a smile and wink, which the detective returned without hesitation. The moment lasted no longer than a split-second, unnoticed by everypony else before they resumed their previous expressions.
Sleuth only gave a worried glare at his half empty plate before he too excused himself from the room. The look painted on his face gave of a mixture of rage over his fiancee’s bratty behavior and guilt over driving her to this in the first place. “I’m not particularly hungry anymore either. Mr. Falsetto, I’m going to retire for the night. I have some… things to think about.”
“Y-yes, I understand dear boy.”
Upstairs, Soprano practically slammed the door to her bedroom. It was probably a tad overkill, but then she was always one for going that extra mile to sell a performance. After spending roughly twenty minutes in the tub of her personal bathroom, she drained the water and dried herself off before brushing her teeth. Taking a brush with her, she walked back out to her bedroom wearing her bathrobe and noticed the lights had been turned off. Another thing caught her attention though: the wind blowing in from the open window. “I don’t remember that being open…”
She placed the brush down on her vanity and went to close the window, lest the wind mess with her mane. When she shut it though, a rectangular shadow contrasted against the moonlight, a rose taped to it. Even before she removed it, it was obvious what it was. With the rose, she had a good guess who left it.
And she was right.
Dear Lady Serenity
Perhaps this is earlier than you expect, but you are an intriguing young mare. Your public challenge interests me, therefore I shall accept it. How could I ever resist such a pretty face? It’s a shame you are engaged; I would have thought I would be the one to capture your heart.
Who knows? I just might in coming days. For now though, I do hope you had a happy birthday despite your pre marital problems. Please accept this rose as message of good fortune. Ciao.
~Facade
The birthday girl blushed furiously as she put the letter and rose down on her nightstand, smiling a goofy smile just like a school filly thinking about her crush. She chose to ignore the implication that the thief was nearby possibly spying on her earlier argument; she was too tired anyway.
“It really is a shame, isn’t it?...”
Casings. Secondary explosives. Primary explosives. Those and countless other components had been carefully laid out on the table of Cherub’s hotel room.
On their own, the parts weren’t terribly hard to acquire, especially not for somepony like the Jade King. He had even been quite generous, providing several different varieties of each depending on which would be needed.
But while the Jade Kings provided the resources, Cherub provided the skill. With the proper construction, one could get a much more effective detonation with the same parts. It had been a while since he had done this, but time had not dulled Cherub’s skill. His hooves worked meticulously, assembling bomb after bomb. It wasn’t particularly exciting work, but he had little else to do.
To be more accurate, he could not do anything else. The King, as well as the guard waiting outside the door, had made it clear that Cherub was not to leave the hotel room until he had two things: Lots of bombs, and a plan to kill Facade that included those bombs. The former would simply be a matter of time, but the latter was proving to be much more difficult. While Soprano Serenity’s challenge was the talk of the town, it was still unclear when and if Facade would accept it. Cherub had been listening to the news intently ever since the story broke the previous day, but no response had been heard from the Jack of Clubs.
Cherub was already mulling over what words he’d use to ask the Jade King for more time, but his luck suddenly took an upswing when a reporter he liked appeared on the screen before him.
“Good evening, Las Pegasus! This is Meryl O’knette with an LP Local News special report. The response you’ve no doubt been waiting for has finally been delivered! The phantom thief, Facade, has officially accepted Soprano Serenity’s challenge!”
Cherub’s head immediately shot upwards from his quickly-forgotten work, giving undivided attention to the report.
“But that’s not all, folks. It seems the police are taking no chances with defending the Heart of Stained Glass. They’ve set up an arena specifically to challenge Facade on their own terms. And the arena they’ve chosen… is none other than our fair LP Local News radio station! In a few short hours, the police will be turning our center for all things news into a veritable fortress! State-of-the-art alarm systems, guards at every corner, helicopter surveillance, and the heart of LP’s sweetheart nestled at the center of it all! No expense has been spared! The Jack of Clubs will be hard-pressed to breach barricades like these. Has he finally met his match? We’ll be reporting live throughout the entire gripping experience, so you’re guaranteed to see the outcome of this exciting clash as it happens. Don’t forget to tune in!”
As the reporter continued on to other topics, a grin of pure relief began to creep onto Cherub’s face. Getting up from the couch, he went to inform the guard of two things: He had a plan, and he would need more wired blasting caps to pull it off.
Careful preparation is key to a plan’s success. There wasn’t a single cop in the building that didn’t share this viewpoint, not with how many times the department had been burned now. Two days after the challenge was announced, the headquarters of LP Local News was vacated of all employees and replaced with an army of officers, backed by a well-devised security system. Outside, two police helicopters flanked the building with spotlights illuminating everything. Higher above them was a helicopter from the very building they were covering, Meryl O’knette anticipating the impending zero hour.
However, sometimes even the most sophisticated plans have holes in them.
Two uniformed officers approached the building and displayed their badges at the checkpoint. Officer Noncom patted them down before letting them in. This was a common cycle in this assignment, a monotonous but necessary one. And it went on many times as the night drew near for the hour of action.
The only thing to keep him from dying of boredom was the sounds of the vultures, that is to say the various crews of photographers and filmers, be they professional or paparazzi, lining up to get a shot of the Jack himself.
("Always amuses me how the press can respond quicker than the authorities sometimes,") Noncom thought as he glanced at the clock. ("It’s getting close to that time, probably should secure the area.")
Noncom waited for his replacements to occupy the area before heading towards the lobby to prep for the big event. There, other officers stood straight, awaiting orders from their superior. As he entered the building, he collided with an older stallion, a technician if the uniform was any indication.
“Woah, s-sorry officer,” the stallion nervously stammered.
“No biggie, sir. I take it the new system is set up?”
“It’s ready and already live.”
“Good. I recommend vacating the area, this place is going to get pretty hectic in a little while.”
“Will do, sir. Good luck!”
The officer stepped aside to let the older pony through before entering the building himself. SWAT officers scattered to their positions as he stood beside the other cops.
“Alright, listen up!” Sleuth said in a firm gruff voice. “I don’t want any screw-ups tonight. You all know the plan and ran through it several times before. I want you to know that this operation is going to rely heavily on team effort and coordination. Those of you at the zero point, I want half of you to keep your eyes trained on the Heart, and I want the other half to be ready to spring the trap. The rest of you, report any and all suspicious activity. Update frequently. Am I understood?”
“Yes sir!”
“Dismissed!”
At this command, the officers dispersed earnestly. In particular were Sleuth, who headed to the west, and Noncom himself who took hold of a rifle in his left hoof and made an advance to the east where the stairs were.
The roof was calling him.
“Zero hour, approaching in thirty-five seconds.”
The thief muttered to himself as he waited patiently inside a custodian closet, claiming it as his makeshift safe room, free from the helicopter lights or any patrol that may stumble upon him prematurely. He knew for a fact that none would find him up there, least of all the officer that was supposed to be stationed up on the roof.
“Three…. Two…. One…. Go time.”
He cracked the closet door open and peered out with a small mirror attached to his monocle, scanning the hall cautiously. Once all was clear, he casually yet calmly flung the door open before softly shutting it behind him as he walked out, adjusting his tie afterwards. The building was new territory for him. There was previously no reason to break into it. But like a professional, he had done his research and crept his way left before crouching at the set of stairs. After peering down to double check that nopony was climbing up, Facade dropped a small satchel next to the door to the roof just next to him and walked down.
“Floor fourteen. Case should be…. Two floors down,” Facade quietly stated to himself.
Like any pro, he had his route mapped out. He was careful to choose the most direct route allowable without giving himself away too soon. Just as planned, there were no officers on this floor and that gave him the leeway to the next floor down.
However, sometimes even the most sophisticated plans have holes in them.
The phantom stopped himself just in time before walking directly into the line of sight of a familiar policemare. ("What? Mounty? Isn’t she supposed to be in the broadcast room?") Facade thought, suppressing a sweat bead. There was no time to think, only time to shift into the next room across the hall while Mounty’s eyes weren’t pointed in his direction. With only a second or two to stop, he hid himself behind a desk as Bobby’s flashlight illuminated the room from the other doorway. Carefully stalking the unicorn officer, he tucked himself behind a corner for long enough to sneak past and down to the next floor.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Facade took a moment to review his position. This floor had two possible routes to his goal. The direct route to the left would have him traverse past a plethora of SWAT ready to take him down on sight. While possible in theory, the risk was far too high.
That just left the balcony to his right. It may not have been ideal considering the helicopters, but he really didn’t have many other options.
“Luna and ministers of night defend us,” he declared to himself as he exited onto the outside balcony. Thankfully, the architecture allowed him to escape the light of the choppers, if only by a sliver. He resorted to crawling in order to avoid detection, despite his white attire standing out against the teal floor.
Finally, his destination. Carefully cracking the door, he quickly scanned his blind spots with his monocle again before stealthily entering and closing the door behind. He found himself directly behind a sentry officer with the door to the broadcast room at his immediate right. With careful steps and a little sleight of hoof, the last door proved to be no match for him.
The Broadcast room. The place where anchors like Meryl O’knette work their magic, where news of the Jack’s past heists were told on citywide TV. And tonight, the ground zero for his prize. It was a simple walk from the door to the case, yet he knew better than to do so. With a suspicious lack of officers, there was no way it was going to be this easy. The suave stallion made glances around the display case in the center, just in front of the circular anchor’s desk, then to the the sides of the room. At the control panel for the lights, an external switch was present. Facade smiled and made a move for the panel.
His hoof stopped just short of the switch, thanks to a gun to the back of his head.
“I honestly, truly didn’t think you’d fall for that.”
That voice. He knew that voice. It was the voice of a burned cop who just gained the upper hoof. And thanks to him, he was now trapped.
“Inspector Slewfoot, what a surprise. To what do we owe the unexpected pleasure?”
“I gotta hand it to my dear fiancée, she sure made a convincing act back at the party, eh?”
Facade could barely see it through the mirror in his monocle, but he caught a glimpse of the inspector’s smile. No, his grin. The grin of somepony who just pulled a fast one.
And unfortunately for the thief, sometimes even the most sophisticated plans have holes in them.
“That lovely lady came up with this? I must say, I’m impressed,” he said smugly, attempting to retain his namesake. “Perhaps I should pay my respects later at your wedding.”
“You can do that once you’re behind bars. Facade, you’re under arrest.” With his gun still trained on the thief, Sleuth reached for his radio. “All units, I have a positive ID on the suspect. Eleven ninety-eight, zero point. Respond.”
~“Ten-four inspector, units are on their way. Stand by until arrival.”~
As the inspector spoke on his radio, Facade found himself sweating slightly. There was no denying his original plan was not going to slide anymore. Still, he was but a reach away from the control console. And he still had an ace literally up his sleeve.
("Only got one shot at this… Better make it count.")
At the very last second before Sleuth finished relaying his message, Facade clenched his eyes shut and threw down a small flash bomb from his sleeve, blinding and dazing the inspector with a sudden burst of light. That done, Facade wasted no time in hitting the switch and hopping over the panels to make a rush for the Heart, security systems no longer being a concern. In his blinded state, Sleuth himself simultaneously reached for the remote in his pocket. A remote that would activate the alarms.
However instead of alarms going off, the display case in the middle of the room erupted in a massive explosion, surprising the thief and knocking him down.
“Woah, okay, that’s new!” said the thief as he ducked to avoid shrapnel. The force of the sudden detonation knocked the officer off his footing, thankfully shielded by the panel from the sharp glass and other debris. His vision came back just in time to see the thief stand up again.
“What did you--”
His query was swiftly interrupted by another series of explosions within the building, accompanied by several audible screams and yells from both inside and outside. He glanced at Facade, who was equally confused and worried about the unfolding events. Their eye contact lasted for less than a second before the thief decided to cut his losses in favor of evacuating, the inspector following soon after.
As the string of explosions continued, it became clear the officers stationed within the building had the same idea to clear the premises. There was no sense putting their lives in danger at this point. Sleuth knew this too, yet he had eyes on the possible culprit and he had to stop him at all costs. Relentlessly, he pursued him all throughout the upper floors until they came to the roof.
“Facade!” Sleuth exclaimed angrily. “Don’t you think this is a bit much?”
“Oh? What kind of cop uses bombs to catch a thief?”
“I might ask what kind of gentlecolt thief uses bombs to cover their escape!”
“Believe me, inspector. They ain’t in my arsenal.”
“Nor mine, Facade!” It took a moment before the implication set in, but Sleuth’s look of anger softened towards confusion. “Wait… If neither of us did this… Who did?”
Facade used a moment to catch his breath. “Good question. To which there is only one answer: Who knows?”
Sleuth’s annoyance returned with a vengeance as he pulled his gun out once more. “Well, I'm sure we'll be able to discuss the matter more thoroughly down at the station. You're still under arrest, Facade. That hasn't changed.”
A grin slithered onto the phantom’s face as he threw his hooves up in obvious mocking fashion. “Oh am I now? If you recall, I don’t have the heart with me.”
“That doesn’t matter. You’re still under--”
Another round of explosions gave the building a lurch, this time compromising the roof’s structural integrity. Facade, being towards the side railing, was in a stable enough spot to avoid the steep sloping of the roof. The inspector, however, was not as fortunate. With nothing holding his footing, Sleuth found himself sliding towards the edge, railing now practically nonexistent. He could hear a round of frightened screaming as he grabbed onto what was left of the rail.
With his hooves just barely managing to stay hooked over the edge, he could feel the spotlights from below focus on him, his imminent demise being caught on live LP television.
“Oh crap! Hold on a sec, stay right there!”
Had he not been hanging on for dear life, Sleuth most definitely would have rolled his eye at Facade’s borderline smartass statement. Not a second sooner however, a rope dangled just next to him, the other side tied to a stable rail and held by his very target.
“Climb up, quick! You’ll be alright!”
"What are you doing?!"
"Saving your life, inspector! Don't be an idiot!"
Shelving his pride in favor of self-preservation, Sleuth used his magic to tie the end of the rope around his hoof, allowing leverage to start a climb up. Yet despite the generous act, he couldn’t help but be incredulous over the position he was in.
“Why the hay are you doing this? You know I’m just going to arrest you when I get up there!”
“You’re a hair’s touch away from death, climb up the damn rope!”
His climb to the top took only a few seconds, yet most of the way it felt as if his heart stopped, with much of the roof giving way to the flames of the floor below. Once at the other end of the rope, his adversary offered his left hoof and pulled him up to his level. Given the dire situation, Sleuth opted not to arrest his rescuer.
“We’ve got to get out of here, pronto! This building is going to come down any minute!”
“Over there!” the thief shouted as he pointed to the railing. “I set up a rappel line earlier in the night, it should get you down to the sixth floor fire exit!”
“Sheesh, you thought of everything…”
“That’s me alright.” With a grin, Facade helped Sleuth hook himself up to the line. With that done, he stood on the edge and extended his wings. “Hey, for what it’s worth, you’re leagues more challenging than the old bird ever was. I think I’m going to enjoy dueling against you in the future.”
“Just get out of here. I’ve got more important things to worry about right now.”
As if on cue, another piece of the roof collapsed, prompting Facade to survey the damage for a moment. “Duly noted. Just make sure everypony is safe once you get down there. Ciao!”
After making it down to ground level, Sleuth made his way to the area where the rest of the officers had assembled. He was relieved to see that none of them had been killed, and there were no injuries of life-threatening severity. Even Noncom had made it out with only a few bumps and bruises, seeing as he had been stationed at the most dangerous area, the roof. After hearing Noncom’s full report of the situation up to the moment, Sleuth made sure that the officers were properly coordinated to check for possible civilian casualties and to receive incoming emergency personnel. Once he was satisfied that everything was under control, Sleuth handed command of the situation to a lieutenant and made his way back home. He was positive that Soprano must have been out of her mind with worry, and this assumption was vindicated as soon as he opened the door.
The second he was inside, his fiancee tackled him into a tight embrace. “Sleuthy! Oh thank Celestia you’re alive! I was so scared…”
Sleuth gently patted her head and wiped away her tears. “It’s okay, I’m still in one piece. The rest of the force is too, somehow. Considering the turn that tonight took, we were really lucky.”
Soprano managed to stem her tears and bring herself under control. She then gave Sleuth a resolute look.
“Don’t worry, Sleuthy, I believe in you. There’s no way you had any part in this.”
The pit of Sleuth’s stomach dropped ever so slightly as dread began to take hold. “Soprano… what are you talking about?”
Soprano simply pointed a hoof at the TV, which was on and showing live coverage of the destroyed radio station. Meryl O’knette was reporting as usual, though she seemed much more haggard than usual.
“-Although they’ve denied any involvement in this incident, none can deny that the evidence against them is overwhelming. Inspector Slewfoot himself had placed extremely tight restrictions on the personnel allowed into the building, making it highly unlikely that somepony other than the police could have set the bombs. I personally can’t help but wonder what gave the inspector the idea that bombing a news station to the ground would be an acceptable method to catch a single thief; A thief who is still unaccounted for, I might add. Whether he’s dead or managed to evade capture is still unclear-”
Sleuth was absolutely livid. In terms of PR, this was the absolute worst possible situation imaginable. He sat down on the couch and massaged his temples, attempting to calm down and stave off an oncoming headache. Anger and pain would not help him think logically, which was exactly what he needed to do at a time like this.
“Lies, all of it. It sure as hay wasn’t the police. It wasn’t Facade either.”
Soprano’s eyes alit with curiosity. “How do you-?”
“I spoke with him.” Sleuth explained, pre-empting Soprano’s question “I was that close to catching him, but then bombs started going off out of nowhere. He actually saved me up on the roof. I figure that if he was the bomber, the only reason he’d do it would be to eliminate the key officers assigned to his case while they were all gathered together. If that were his motive, why would he save me? It doesn’t make sense. Facade didn’t do it.”
Soprano’s brow furrowed. “Okay, but then who did do it?”
“That’s what I want to know.” Sleuth sighed, “But I doubt I’ll be getting answers anytime soon. Tonight has been a complete disaster, and tomorrow we’ll likely need to hold a press conference to dismiss these ridiculous conspiracy theories.”
“In that case, get yourself cleaned up and come to bed” Soprano suggested, “You’ll need all the rest you can get tonight.”
It was a good idea, and Sleuth followed suit. He made his way to the bathroom, shed his uniform and started the shower, sighing with relaxation as the hot water ran down his coat. As he cleaned himself, he went over the night’s events in his mind. Starting with the scheduled time of the heist and ending with coming home after hearing Noncom’s report. While the night had been chaos, there had to be some detail that hadn’t occurred to him. Something out of place. Something that would get him closer to finding his quarry, whether that was Facade or the unknown bomber.
As he thought it over for the fifth time, his eyes shot open. There it was. It had been staring him right in the face, as he expected. It seemed minor in the scope of the evening’s events, but it was definitely something to go on.
After Soprano had fallen asleep later that evening, Sleuth quietly crept out of bed. The sooner he tested his hypothesis, the better. Opting to first stop at the police station, Sleuth later found himself at the doorstep of the place where his theory would be put to the test: The Lucky Lag Casino Resort.