“Desultory readers are seldom remarkable for the exactness of their learning.”
― Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, A Study in Scarlet
They were greeted by Lieutenant, or rather the new Captain, Aryanne.
The somber nature with which she greeted the investigators was so momentous and so unexpected, that Chatterbox, Time Turner, and Sheerluck were fairly dumbfounded for the majority of their time at the crime scene. Time Turner stared in silence at Sheerluck Hooves, whose lips were compressed and his brows drawn down over his eyes.
“The Captain as well?” Sheerluck Hooves muttered, “the plot thickens!”
The former Captain’s office was covered in blood as well. ‘RACHE’ was more clearly visible over his desk, below the words was where his bloated body lay. Time Turner felt fairly sick, having but days ago joked with the captain at a scene quite like this one. About a scene quite like this one.
“Not a mere murderer… A serial killer.”
Sheerluck was studying the corpse, which was propped up in a chair instead of lying on the ground. He lifted up the head of the dead Captain, sniffing the inside of his open mouth. Time Turner gagged and looked away.
“A tourist claims to have seen the murderer. Even managed to get us a sketch artist to get a nice little drawing of him. We’re making wanted posters now.”
“Tell me how the tourist saw the killer.” Sheerluck ordered. Aryanne immediately rattled off the fine details.
"The murderer was seen by Miss Cheerilee, passing on her way to the hotel, happened to walk down the lane which leads from the mews at the back of the Royal Guard Headquarters. She noticed that a ladder was raised against this very window,” she nodded at the open window, “which was wide open. After passing, she looked back and saw a stallion descend the ladder. He came down so quietly and openly that Cheerilee imagined him to be some carpenter or joiner at work in this room. She took no particular notice of him, beyond thinking in her own mind that it was early for him to be at work. She has an impression that the stallion was tall, had a reddish face, and was dressed in a long, brownish cloak. He must have stayed in the room some little time after the murder, for we found blood-stained water in the basin, where he had washed his hands, and marks on the sheets where he had deliberately wiped his knife."
Time Turner glanced at Hooves upon hearing the description of the murderer, which tallied so close to his own. There was, however, no trace of exultation or satisfaction upon Sheerluck’s face.
“So where did the blood come from?”
“It… It came from the Captain this time, sir.”
Sheerluck’s eyes bugged and he immediately looked back at the dead stallion. Lifting up his head, he and Time Turner both saw that this time there was a deep cut in the stallion’s neck. This time the victim had been murdered directly. Not poisoned. Now Sheerluck looked a tad bit annoyed.
"Did you find nothing in this room that could furnish a clue to the murderer?" he asked.
"Nothing.”
“There was nothing else?" Sheerluck asked.
"Nothing of any importance. The Captain’s novel, with which he had read himself to sleep was lying upon the desk. There was a glass of water on the table, and on the window-sill a small chip ointment box containing a couple of pills."
Sheerluck Hooves sprang up with an exclamation of delight.
"The last link," he cried, exultantly. "My case is complete." Everypony in the room oogled at him in disbelief and surprise.
"I have now right here," Sheerluck announced, confidently, "all the threads which have formed such a tangle. There are, of course, details to be filled in, but I am as certain of all the main facts. I will give you a proof of my knowledge. Could you lay your hoof upon those pills?"
"Right over there," said Aryanne, pointing a hoof to a small white box. Sheerluck levitated the pillcase over to himself and popped it open. For several moments he looked over its contents before he started to merrily hum ‘Winter Wrap-Up’ to himself. Time Turner was not an expert on crime scene investigation, but he believed that humming in front of a corpse was somewhat disrespectful. But, of course, he did not pursue the matter, as Sheerluck had gotten to the front of the room and made an announcement.
“Exactly what I thought. These are not pills, but cleverly disguised Changeling venom. Rarely, a Changeling is born with the ability to produce poison, which can be used to kill ponies. But the poison here wasn’t working fast enough for the murderer, so he simply cut the Captain’s throat!” Sheerluck exclaimed merrily, “And I know who the murderer is! Or rather, who hired the murderer.”
Everypony in the room was hushed as they waited in bated breath for Sheerluck to reveal the murderer.
“The murderer was none other than Queen Chrysalis, the local Changeling Queen. She has one of her agents currently in the form of…” He pointed a dramatic hoof at Chatterbox, “you.”
“M-Me?”
“Oh don’t play innocent. You’re nowhere near as talkative as you should be. You are obviously a Changeling. You murdered the real Chatterbox after she spoke with us, and took her form in order to deliver your lie of a message. Now, you were ordered by your Queen to lead us here, back to the scene of the murder YOU committed.”
Chatterbox’s expression turned from that of a horrified gape into a mischievous leer.
“Well first of all, I wasn’t ordered by the Queen.”
A green flame erupted around not-Chatterbox. Sheerluck, Time Turner, and Captain Aryanne looked away from the bright fire as the tall looming figure revealed itself. A slender mare-like creature with long veiny wings and an equally long horn with a crown-like growth behind it.
Chrysalis.
“I was ordered by my client. As you are ordered by yours, Sheerluck Hooves.”
Sheerluck sneered at the Changeling Queen as she started to hover in the air. Time Turner and Aryanne were clutching each other like baby foals, gazing up in sheer terror at the monster flying before them.
“You were hired by Mortuary, weren’t you!” Sheerluck snarled. It was the most violent that Time Turner had ever seen Sheerluck.
“Maybe!” Chrysalis giggled. She began to skip in mid air towards the still-open window. She waved a hoof at Sheerluck. They were powerless against her. There was nothing they could do to stop her escape.
“Ta ta!” And with a green flash of light, she was gone.
Sheerluck was depressed.
Time Turner could sense that as they rode together in the cab back to Ponyville. Time Turner wanted to say something. Anything. To make his new friend feel better.
“Well… you cracked the case.”
“Oh, this is one of many, my dear Doctor. One of many to come. I should have known coming here would have attracted the attention of Mortuary.” Sheerluck mumbled glumly as he stared out the window into the dark night sky.
“Who is this Mortuary you speak of?”
“He is my rival. My enemy. A criminal mastermind. My intellectual equal. And he is here in Equestria, when I thought I had escaped his rule in Great Bridleton.”
“Tell me more about him.”
“His parents owned a morgue. Expected him to inherit it. Instead, Mortuary grew to be a successful business-stallion and a professor for the Trottingham University. He then used his newfound talents for crime.”
“Is… that it?”
“Unfortunately, yes. For now. Until he makes another move. He’s shown he already has control over the Changelings. Now we just wait for him to make himself known further.”
“What does that mean, Sheerluck?”
“We wait until the next misadventure, Doctor. Simple as that.”
The cab came to a halt before the Hooves’ household. Sheerluck tossed the cabbie a sack full of golden bits and together the stallions went up and stood by the doorstep. As Time Turner opened the door, they both saw Derpy and DInky noisily eating dinner in the kitchen. Time Turner went ahead and trotted in. He turned around to see Sheerluck still standing there. The Doctor shook his head and closed the door, leaving himself outside. Time Turner shrugged and went to enjoy dinner with his family.
Sheerluck Hooves stayed by the door for a full minute, listening to the merry sounds of the happy family. He then stepped down to the street. He took a deep breath of the cool night air. Then he kicked into a trot and vanished into the darkness.
He had work to do.
TO BE CONTINUED IN ‘PART TWO: THE SIGN OF THE FOUR’