memoirs of a private detective: volume 1

by Inkwell_the_writer_horse

Chapter 4: "a flank to kill for"

It was the first snowfall of winter. It was almost beautiful, the filthy city being covered in a thick blanket of white snow, the gunshots and yells of the past, a lullaby rocking the city to sleep. I tried to fool myself into thinking that this would be the final winter, the oncoming blizzards woud last forever, leaving the city in a catatonic state.

I watched from my second storey office as people made their way home, ill prepared for the sudden snow fall, I almost thought of joining them before the door opened. She stepped through the door frame, her powder blue coat dotted with small clots of snow, her pink mane protected by a black beanie, and sat in the chair opposite me without speaking a word. I took a swig from my flask before asking.

"Anything I could help you with?"

She wore an expression of exasperation, she leaned in close and spoke quietly.

"I need your help, my husband was in debt to a casino in las pegasus, and about a month ago we started getting threatening letters and now he's gone missing."

I thought it over, most of the casinos in las pegasus were owned by the Equestrian mafia, if this stallion had gone missing he was probably already dead, wearing a pair of concrete horse shoes at the bottom of the ocean, but I didn't have the heart to tell her. She handed me a piece of paper, their were names, a suprising amount of information on the casino, and the threatening letters themselves, frankenstein letters, cobbled together from newspapers and magazines. I looked them over before telling her.

"I'll do what I can, check back in a week and I'll fill you in on the case's progress. If any vital evidence shows up, I'll be sure to inform you myself."

She let out a sigh of relief and pulled out her bit purse, I could tell she was going to ask for my fee. Before she could open her mouth I answered.

"You don't pay a bit until I get results."

She gave me a look of thanks.

"Thank you so much."

We shared a look into each others eyes. The warmth of her big, beautiful blue eyes contrasted with my blood shot squint of pain, and yet, she never looked away, until my old and tired lungs spoiled the moment with a violent cough. I apologised and she made her way to the door, leaning from behind it while saying her goodbye.

She never gave her name, only her husbands, Black Jack. I put on my fedora and trench coat, I was a walking cliché, but
it didn't matter, I'd earned my reputation as someone you didn't want to mess with, breaking the law, more than upholding it. If I walked into the right place, I could get anyhing I wanted, it wasn't respect I garnered out of ponies, it was fear, and fear was more powerful than respect.

As I made my way to Baltimares seedy underbelly I thought to myself, why the girl would come to me instead of the police, I came up with an answer, one that should have been obvious from the begining, this was a dirty job and no one would care, or even notice if a washed up private detective got caught in the crossfire. I wondered if that should hurt me, but even if it should have, it wouldn't matter, she had a flank to die for, a flank to kill for.