It had been quite the spectacle getting Jeweler Joe to come to the police station. Accompanied by Rarity, a group of police officers headed by none other than Captain Star barged into his store and openly sought him out. Either out of pure fright or stupidity, Rarity couldn’t tell which, Joe Diamond had attempted a speedy getaway. However, with his gluttonous form preventing him from navigating the sharp confines of his shop, and his only exit blocked by his pursuers, his getaway was anything but speedy. As they dragged him out to the paddy wagon and eventually set him on his way downtown he loudly begged and cajoled to be set free whilst foolishly professing his innocence for various crimes. Numerous times did they tell him the reasoning behind his summons and state that he wasn’t under formal arrest, but he had been in such a state that it all just went into one ear only to go right out of the other.
As one or two officers transported him to the police headquarters, Rarity, Star, and some more officers stayed behind to clear the shop out and establish it as an informal crime scene. After the employees were told to take the rest of the day off and the very few customers were ushered out, the remaining officers gathered in a semi-circle around Rarity.
“There is a little operation going on upstairs,” she told them, “Do what you have to do, but if you find anything, and I mean anything at all that you think could be of use to my investigation into the death of Lyra Heartstrings, notify me or your captain immediately.” She looked them over sternly.
“Yes ma’am!” they shouted in unison and then quickly moved into the doorway at the rear of the sales floor. They entered into it and bounded up the stairs en route to the casino above. Meanwhile, Rarity and Captain Star began a thorough search of the store in which they stood. They started in the least obvious place, the sales floor, and checked the insides and undersides of the display cases, the checkout registers, and even the interior damages such as the opened ceiling tiles and exposed flooring beneath the carpet.
“Jeez,” Star commented as he jumped down off a chair after having peered up inside of the ceiling, “Why is somepony like Lyra shopping at a place like this?” He coughed as he shook some dust off of himself. “I thought you said she was rich. If that’s the case, why isn’t she shopping at some place in Neighborly Hills?”
“Hm,” Rarity hummed as she turned around to get one more look at the place around her, “My thoughts exactly.” In the end, she supposed it didn’t really matter. Nothing really ever mattered when you were dead.
“Well, either way, come along. His office is this way,” she led him into the backroom. Above them, they could hear the loud sounds of the casino being broken up and its patrons being laid out on the floor. Rarity approached the closed door to his office while Star turned around and observed the old punch clock. He pulled one of the yellowed cards out and saw that the last time anyone had punched a time had been back in 1929.
“Locked,” Rarity commented quietly, “How original.”
“Oh!” Star said as he placed the old card back into the slot he drew it from, “Allow me.” He brushed past Rarity and approached the door. In one swift movement he jumped, turned in midair, and bucked the wooden door nearly off of its hinges.
“Ahem,” Rarity cleared her throat and shot him a rather peeved look.
“What?”
“AHEM!” she pointed at her horn, still with that same look upon her face. “I could have picked that lock, you know?”
“My way was quicker. After you,” he motioned inside of the office and gave her a cocky smile. Rarity rolled her eyes and then entered into the room for the second time around. It was exactly as she remembered it, and that was good because it meant that the search should be fairly quick and simple, and there was no need to worry about having to turn over any unnecessary stones. Even though she could probably recall every single word that Joe had spoken to her during the interview with him the first time around, she could also recall every tiny detail about the room. Multitasking could be a detective’s best friend.
The two wasted no time in beginning their search. There were some documents on the desktop, though nothing of importance, and the same applied to the contents of the grand wooden desk. Rarity even inspected that same desk for hidden compartments, but she came up empty hooved. Still, her intuition told her that she was missing something; that there was more to this office than met the eye. She had felt it the first time around as well. She sighed and looked around the room, and it was at that point that her keen eyes noticed the off-center picture frame that hung from the wall on the opposite end of the room. She couldn’t quite place her hoof on what it was, but something was just off about it.
“How curious,” Rarity commented mostly to herself as she approached the generic painting of a bushel of bananas and stopped in front of it. For what it was worth in regards to the rest of the building, Joe Diamond’s office was very neat, professional-looking, and organized. Yet this painting appeared to be out of place, and sat somewhat off-center. Curious indeed.
“Is now really the time to be thinking about interior decorating?” Star asked as he came up beside her. He reached out to straighten the frame.
“Oh do shut up,” Rarity rolled her eyes once again and swatted his hoof down. She then used her magic to grasp hold of the painting and lift it off of its mount. When she placed it down on the ground and looked back at the wall she was both surprised and delighted to see a pretty sizeable wall safe.
Star hummed, “Neat.”
“Best let me handle this one darling. You might hurt yourself if you try to kick this one down.” Star was the one who rolled his eyes this time around as he watched Rarity work her literal magic. She placed her ear against the cold metal surface and listened intently as she rotated the combination wheel. Within a few seconds she heard the first lock cylinder click and then shortly after that she heard the second cylinder do the same. At that point, she ran into an obstacle, but she knew that it was not an insurmountable one. She was familiar with this particular brand of safe and knew that there was a fairly thick lining of metallic material surrounding the third lock cylinder, so as to prevent even a trained naked ear from hearing it unlock; even with a stethoscope one would have to have a highly sensitive ear to distinguish the tick.
“It’s magic proof,” she pointed at a bright yellow etching on the bottom right corner of the door, near the manufacturer’s seal. Any attempt to cast a safecracking spell at it would be nothing more than a futile effort that would reset the two unlocked cylinders, or, in the case of magically enhanced safes, scramble the combination entirely.
She summoned a makeup bag from within her coat and summoned an even smaller kit from within it. Inside of that kit were otherwise trivial items such as a mirror, a hoof file, and, most importantly, an assortment of bobby pins. What other ponies might see as mere tools to upkeep one’s appearance on the fly, Rarity saw tools that could potentially get her out of a sticky situation, or, as experience proved, even save her life. Luckily for her, she knew that this safe had two major flaws: It had a keyhole on the front in case one might forget their combination, and that third and final lock cylinder happened to be accessible via that keyhole because of its positioning.
Without the slightest hesitation, she bent the bobby pin at a precise upwards angle and inserted it into the keyhole. She jimmied it around a little, muttered a few curses under her breath, and within thirty seconds managed to pop the door open.
“Well, well, well. When did you become such an expert bank robber?” Star asked, impressed at her skill.
“Not an expert bank robber,” she smiled at him as she placed the bobby pin back inside of the kit and then dropped it back into her makeup bag, “I just paid attention in the academy.” She winked at him and then put the bag back into her coat.
“Oh yeah… ‘Bank Robberies 101’. I remember that,” he chuckled.
Rarity pulled the door aside and the two were allowed to behold the unsettling contents inside. If none of the evidence that she’d uncovered up until that point had been incriminating, this was all certainly enough to make up for it. True, most of it was only circumstantial evidence, but it was exceptionally damning circumstantial evidence; enough that Rarity felt she could use to squeeze a confession out of Joe.
“We need to log this in as evidence,” Rarity commented as she summoned more plastic evidence baggies from within her saddlebags. Star watched her with a quiet sense of admiration and interest as she used her magic to quickly, yet methodically, organize all of the documented evidence, bag it, and label it, all without taking a single step away from the wall safe.
“And that should be it,” she said once she finished tucking the last of three evidence bags neatly into her saddlebags.
“Good, good. You should go back to HQ now though. I’ll wrap up things here and catch up in a bit,” he took a few paces towards the door and turned back to her, “Don’t want to keep our colt waiting now, do we?”
“That we do not,” Rarity agreed, “I’ll see you shortly.”
“See you soon,” Star nodded to her and exited the office. He rounded the doorway to the left and started up the stairs, on his way to assist the officers upstairs and look for any evidence that they might have missed.
Meanwhile, Rarity started on her way back to the police station. For the duration of her walk she wanted so badly to take the newly discovered evidence out and pour over it; With her evidence she was like Twilight Sparkle after having left a book store with an exceptionally “exciting” haul. However, for the sake of simple professionalism and preservation she fought back the temptation and kept it safely concealed. She found new excitement with the evidence because it told her that she had in fact chosen the right suspect and would now be able to close the case, get one more killer off of the streets, and, most importantly, rein in justice for Lyra.
She was so excited, in fact, that she didn’t notice she had practically trotted the entire way at a quickened pace. As could be expected, the paddy wagon had beaten her there and Joe had probably already been locked down and placed inside of an interview room. She wanted to wait on Star to return until she began the interrogation, but in the meantime, his opting to stay behind actually proved to be a bit of a boon. Not only would it allow her the time to finally actually get a good, hard look at the evidence that she had confiscated, it would also afford her the time to confer with Spike and get a much-needed cup of coffee. On top of that, she knew that it would place pressure on Joe and it would be easier to make him crack. There was just something about those interview rooms that made one break out into a cold sweat and feel one’s heartbeat (to those that weren’t accustomed to them anyway). Perhaps it was the isolation or maybe the way the walls seemed to close in on one after some time. Either way, that was what she wanted.
Rarity walked up to the breakroom and poured her a cup of coffee so full that it nearly sloshed out of the cup with every step she took. Afterwards, she went back downstairs to where she had left her dragon assistant so that she could talk with him and share with him the evidence that she had uncovered. Very rarely did she take Spike out to make arrests or detainments because of the inherent danger involved in executing them, but she was always sure to fill him in on the details when she returned and share with him the evidence that she had uncovered. Now was one of those times and as she descended the stairs back to the basement she thought of how it would be a good learning experience for him.
“Hello Spikey,” she greeted him affectionately and took a sip of her coffee after she cleared the bottom step. The dragon looked up from the comic book that he had been reading.
“Rarity!” he greeted her back, “How was it? Did you have to fight him?”
She giggled and then replied, “Hardly, my dear. Though, he did try to try to run. Didn’t really work out for him though.” She took another sip of her coffee. She knew that she would have to be fast with it. How she missed the days when she actually had the time to drink coffee and wasn’t often forced to just chug it down and hope it didn’t scald her throat too badly.
“Whoa, so you had to chase him?”
“Now Spike, you’re reading far too many comic books,” she cuddled him in conclusion and prompted him to blush. Once again, she took a sip of her coffee and the duo sat quietly for a few moments.
“Yeah, well, I haven’t been messing around the entire time. You know that box of papers that we took from that one lady’s house? Her ‘special somepony’, or whatever?”
“Yes?”
“OK, so do you also remember all of those mean letters that jewelry store owner guy wrote to them?”
“Mhm,” Rarity nodded and took yet another sip. Nearly halfway done.
“Well, I knew that you were going to get him, and I don’t know if it’ll help you or not, but I went and collected and arranged them all for you. Here.” He then passed her a manila folder that had been sitting on the opposite end of himself.
“Aww,” Rarity said as she took it with her magical aura, “That is so sweet of you. Thank you darling! And of course it will help me! Now whenever I go to ask him about these letters I have some physical evidence and not just the threat of summoning it in case he ‘forgets’ or denies their existence.” She sighed, “Sometimes I just don’t know what I’d do without you, Spike. You’re such a clever little dear.” She smiled at him.
“Sometimes?” he cocked his eyebrow.
“Fine,” she rolled her eyes playfully. “All of the time,” she gave him a peck on the cheek.
Afterwards, she summoned the bagged evidence from within her saddlebags and sat it all down on the table. With her coffee almost sipped all the way down she could now at least pull the evidence out and get her first good look at.
“Whoa,” Spike said as he craned over and looked at it all laid out before him, “You found all of that there?”
“Indeed,” Rarity said as she stared at the unsettling material. It made her stomach turn both with disgust and excitement, so much in fact that she was not able to pull her eyes off of it until she was interrupted by the sound of the watch commander as he trotted down the steps.
“Hello detective,” he greeted her and poked his head around the corner, “You said to let you know when Captain Star returned?”
“Yes, thank you. Come along Spike,” she said and then took one final swig of her coffee to down what little bit of the liquid remained in the cup. She scooped up the evidence and placed it carefully back inside of her saddlebags and then, with Spike in tail, started up the steps and, as it happened, nearly walked right into Star when she reached the top.
“Hey,” he greeted as he dodged out of the way to allow herself and Spike enter into the hallway. “You ready to do this?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she responded.
“Great,” he started to move in the direction of the interrogation room, “Now as you can probably guess, he’s a little uppity so I’ll go in first.” Star led the two of them down to the end of the hallway where they rounded the corner, crossed the front doors of the police station, and proceeded to the interrogation room at the end of that hallway. Once they arrived, Star opened the door and, before he entered, stopped Rarity and Spike so that they stood off to the side. Sometimes Rarity thought that he liked to make a more dramatic entrance than her. Oh well, at least it was a functional dramatic entrance. He entered into the room where he then locked eyes with a standing Joe.
“Sit,” he commanded him and, without hesitation, walked over to assist him down into the tiny wooden chair that faced the doorway. Whilst Star continued to loom menacingly over him, Joe began to blubber out various statements in regards to his innocence, but his statements fell on deaf ears. Eyes still locked on Joe, Star stepped off to the side and did not break his unimpressed stare until Rarity entered into the room.
“Well, well, well,” Rarity said as she entered into the room and tossed a pack of cigarettes and matches down onto the table, “We meet again Mister Joe. Remember me?” Spike entered in behind her and stepped off to the side to join Star. Rarity sat down and pulled her notebook and pencil out, and by the time she had flipped to the blank page that she needed Joe had already lit one of the cigarettes and taken a long draw off of it.
“Just what is all of this about?!” he hastily asked her after he completed his draw.
“I’ll be the one asking the questions here!” she shot back at him and then used her magic to shut the door behind her with a deafening slam. “Oh you’re very good at pulling the wool down over your customer’s eyes,” she resumed with a normal tone that ended with a chuckle, “but that isn’t the case with me!” She slammed her hoof down and leaned across the table to look him in the eyes. “You know perfectly well why you’re here, and I know you lied about your little friend, ‘Vittore’, and I want to know why.”
“I didn’t lie to you! I swear on it!”
“Oh, I had a feeling you might say that,” she smiled mockingly, “so it might interest you to know that I personally visited Clover’s and nopony there ever heard of any Vittore. It might further interest you to know that we turned over leads all across this city and still nopony has ever heard of this phantom of yours. Nice effort though.”
“Just what exactly would I have to gain from lying to you?” he drew on his cigarette so deeply that choked for a moment or two.
“Oh, I dunno,” she twiddled her hooves in a mockingly innocent way, “How about casting suspicion off of yourself regarding the death of Lyra Heartstrings? That’s why we’re here. I know you killed her.”
Joe’s demeanor changed from harried to frustrated as he took yet another deep draw from his cigarette.
“I told you before! I didn’t kill her! I wanted what was owed to me, yes, and perhaps I could be a little hasty at times, but I would never wish death upon anypony. Especially not Lyra.”
“But you would have them hunted and harmed in a way that could potentially lead to death? Is that right?”
Joe said nothing but his eyes darted to the ground and his body language spoke of his guilt in volumes. Still, she wanted to hear him say it. She wanted him to hear himself say it. To boot, words were admissible in court, body language was not. She opened her mouth to further attempt to push him into confessing to her prior statement, but Star beat her to the draw.
“Hey, the lady asked you a question,” he said. His voice was calm and quiet, but the way he stepped closer to Joe told him that it would be wise if he answered this “clueless detective’s” question.
“Y-Yes,” he mumbled, still unable to make eye contact with either. He took yet another long draw off of his cigarette.
Rarity took care to record his statement, and she glanced over at Star and Spike, both of whom nodded to her. They had heard his statement and she knew that they could be counted on to testify if the need arose; She knew that while information was a valuable asset, perhaps even the most important, bodies in an interview room was the next best thing.
“So tell me Mister Diamond, if you didn’t kill her, who did?” She closely monitored his body language in the few moments that she allowed him to think it over. His eyes darted about even more erratically and sweat started to form on his brow; she knew that he was attempting to conjure up a lie. Still, it was necessary to press him further.
“It’s all right here Mister Diamond. The motive, the evidence, why, we even have the murder weapon,” she reached across the table and gently lifted his hoof up, “It’s all right here.” Still, Joe remained speechless and allowed Rarity to drop his hoof like a limp rag.
“To top it all off, we even have your inspiration…” From within her saddlebags, Rarity summoned the baggies that contained the evidence she had confiscated from his office. She opened them and freely placed it all down in front of him and asked, “Any of these look familiar? They should. We found them in your office.”
Inside of the bags, a series of grisly documents and photos divided the detective from the suspect. Rarity watched him intently, an increasing sense of confidence and satisfaction growing inside of her as he was forced to look at his own secrets laid out before him. There were many grim newspaper clippings and photos, dated January of the current year, 1947, all of which focused on the widely covered Black Zinnia and her killer. Leaked photos of her corpse accompanied sickening and macabre newspaper clippings that described, in unnecessarily great detail, the manner in which the poor mare was assaulted and ultimately brutalized. It all matched the manner in which Lyra was killed exactly, down to be completely divided at the midsection. The only difference is that Lyra’s body had not been posthumously tampered with and arranged in a sickening macabre display. Equally as unsettling, if not more, were the personal documents and materials of Joe’s that revolved around a sick obsession with some female customers, though namely Lyra. There were affectionate writings and poems, and explicit fantasies spelled out in great detail on what appeared to be crumpled pieces of notebook paper, and he had even gone so far as to save the sales receipts of his “favorite customers.” To top it all off there were photos, all of Lyra, that appeared to have either been cut from orchestral playbooks or newspaper articles which featured stories of her orchestra, or taken by a sinisterly competent photographer; perhaps a rouge reporter for hire, perhaps even Joe himself.
Rarity bit the tip of her eraser for a moment and leaned back in her chair, though she kept her eyes glued on him. “You strike me as one of two things Mister Diamond,” she said after a few moments of silent thought, “A crafty though lonely pony who likes his true-to-life crime thrillers, or a sick and dangerous obsessive.”
Joe extinguished his cigarette only to light up another one directly after. He stared dangerously at Rarity, and in his eyes she could see a mixture of emotions, chief of which was a passionate hatred for her. After some time though, he eventually broke the stare and the silence.
“So I like to read the newspaper and… keep the articles that I find interesting. Is that a crime?” He flicked some of the ashes off the end of his cigarette.
Rarity thought it an interesting and bold move that he was going on the offensive. Could he really be foolish enough to think that she, or a jury, would believe that that’s all this was? He was no genius, and that was obvious. Then again, she supposed that if he was then he wouldn’t have gotten caught. Still, she decided to humor him, though not before she dodged his question and asked another of her own.
“What of these pictures?” she picked one up to show it to him, “These little fantasies of yours? For goodness sakes you kept receipts! You cannot honestly sit there and expect me to believe that that’s you having an ‘interest’ in journalism and otherwise.”
Joe sighed and he struggled to keep his eyes off of the material and the detective in front of him. His secret shame had been discovered, and though he truly didn’t see any wrong in what he had done, he just wanted the questioning to stop. Though, on the same token he didn’t wish to tell her anymore for he despised her with a fiery passion. In his eyes she was simply there to ruin his life.
He sighed, “OK, OK…” he closed his eyes for a few moments, pondered his decision, and looked back at her, “You caught me there. I… had a thing for Lyra.”
“Just for Lyra?” she casually shuffled the photos and receipts of one or two other mares.
“Fine, mostly Lyra. She was just so… so beautiful. So genuine. Like a diamond that I could never hope to have,” he sighed, “Oh what I wouldn’t have done to please her.” Rarity couldn’t help but hear a sinister underlying tone in his previous statement, but for the moment she opted to take it at face value. “You’re right,” he took a heavy draw off of his cigarette and continued quietly, “I’m lonely. I’m lonely and I had certain… fantasies in my head. But is that really a crime?”
“No it is not. However, it is a crime to murder somepony in cold blood,” Rarity struck at him with a calm ferocity.
“I told you I didn’t kill her!” he shot back with such passion that he actually raised a few inches out of his seat. Star stepped forward a few paces, his hoof close to his baton, and that convinced him that it would be wisest to go no higher.
“Why’d you lie to me then?” she asked calmly.
Joe shook his head. He couldn’t believe he was even answering her questions. Didn’t he need a lawyer present or something? Still, though he was foolish and could get a bit ahead of himself, he wasn’t downright stupid. “I… I lied because I was scared.”
“Scared of what?”
“What do you think?! Prison! Jail! Losing my business! Losing my reputation! What isn’t there to be scared of?!” He continued to shake his head after his secondary outburst. “I mean, how am I supposed to feel when this ‘detective’ and her little dragon thing show up out of nowhere and say that I’m the number one suspect in a murder?”
“Hm…” Rarity tapped her chin with her pencil, “Mister Diamond, I can assure you that I never recall stating that you were my number one suspect. However, if you can’t start answering my questions fully and truthfully I can positively assure you that you will see more than the cold iron bars of this state’s penitentiaries… you will see the gas chamber.”
“This is an outrage!” he bellowed out and stood bolt upright. Star swiftly threw him back down into it and pulled his baton afterwards.
“Stay down!” he cautioned.
All the while, Rarity stayed quiet and calm throughout the whole spectacle. She was deep in thought. She knew that he was guilty, for not only did her instincts and gut point to it, but all of the evidence was there. Still, this Joe Diamond, this “Jeweler Joe”, fought with the ferocity of a truly innocent pony. It certainly was odd. Unfazed by his acting skills though, she remained steadfast and hell-bent on squeezing a confession out of him. She didn’t care if it she had to be there until the sun came up the next morning, but by Celestia she would hear this stallion say, “I did it. I killed Lyra Heartstrings.”
“Let’s back up a little bit,” she continued, “Tell me, where were you on the night of March 12th between the hours of, let’s say, 7 o’ clock and 10 o’ clock.” After what had seemed like an eternity, Twilight Sparkle eventually was able to put together a detailed portfolio that described how and when Lyra died, and that was the crucial timeframe that she had provided.
Again, Joe stared deeply into her eyes with a dangerous and passionate hate. Eventually though he replied, “I was at work. I closed up the store and went to bed upstairs.”
“Do you have anypony that can testify to that?”
“No,” he replied smugly, “I don’t. All of my employees go home at six.”
“Mhm,” Rarity mumbled, “Of course they do.”
Joe quickly took offense to her comment. “Oh, so do you propose I keep them there all day and all night, like slaves?”
“Oh of course not,” she replied calmly though confidently, “though I do find it funny that you allow your employees to clear out nearly three hours before your store closes. Awfully strange business strategy, isn’t it?” She leaned across the table and looked him in the eyes, “Budget cuts?” She had a keen eye, an extremely keen eye, and it was with that keen eye that she had taken notice of the simple sign that was labeled “business hours” and stuck to the front door of his store. It was a trivial object, and it was something that no one, even a seasoned detective would look at unless they had to. Still, these small and trivial objects and pieces of information could sometimes turn out to be the things that can make or break an interview or even an entire investigation.
“I… I think I let them go home early that day,” his eyes darted away from her and he extinguished his half-smoked cigarette.
“Why are you lying to me?” she asked confidently. She could see that Joe was desperately scrambling to come up with a response. “Whatever the reason, you’ll have to do better than that. I say so because we’ve already interviewed some of your employees. They were very cooperative, and they told us that you never allowed them to leave early. Not even on the holidays?” she flipped back to the statement that one of his employees had made, “Tsk tsk. Now, what was so special about that particular day that you would have let them leave early?”
Still, Joe sat in silence and tried not to make eye contact with her. He wanted desperately to say something, anything at all, but it was too late. He had already backed himself into a corner with his overly-defensive lies. A few moments would pass and he would open his mouth to try to say something, but no words would come out.
“So did you let them leave early,” Rarity asked, still confident and calm; she knew that she had him. “Or were you the one that left early? It’s funny because your employees tell us that you took an awfully long lunch, and a late one at that. Care to elaborate?”
“I went to my usual spot. Stayed a little longer so I could have a couple of drinks and smoke a little bit.”
“What’s your usual spot? What time did you go?” she glanced down at some information that was previously written in her notebook.
“I don’t see what that has to do with any of this,” he sighed and started to toy with the packet of cigarettes in front of him, “but if you must know… it’s the Garden of Celestia, and I left the store around half past seven.”
“Mhm,” Rarity looked at him when she knew that she had caught him in yet another lie, “That’s a little too fancy for your tastes and budget, isn’t it?”
“What are you saying?” he shot her a dirty look.
“I’m saying that I’m getting tired of you lying to me. Again, you’ll have to do better than that and you’ll also do well to remember that I’ve already interviewed your employees. Though I will say that you almost gave me the right answer. Almost. I have the right puzzle piece, as it were, but you just put it down in the wrong spot.”
“What are you going on about?” he asked her with growing irritation in his voice.
“I know that your ‘usual spot’ is Clover’s,” she flipped back to the blank page in her notebook, “and I also know that you really need to learn how to be a better liar. You’re not helping yourself and you’re only digging yourself deeper and deeper into a hole. Do yourself a favor and tell me where you were at during the time in question, and I want the truth this time,” she stared him down and concluded, “And believe me when I say that this is your last chance.”
Joe gulped and he started to dart his eyes all about the room. It was hotter in there, hotter than he remembered, and it made him break into a sweat. He was nervous, angry, and frightened all at the same time. The words that she spoke to him rocked him at his foundation and he was left at a loss for words. What could he say to her that would convince her? He tried to fumble for another cigarette, but he dropped the packet and it landed on the floor with a sound that echoed out like a boom to him. He was too nervous and exhausted to reach down and retrieve the pack, so he sat there in a stunned silence as his mind continued to scramble for something, anything that he could say. The tension in the tiny interview room was so thick that one could cut it with a knife, and as brave a soul she was, Rarity took it upon herself to be the one to cut that tension.
“Not going to give me an answer? Alright, so then just tell me what happened that day. Give me your side of the story. You’ve seen all of the evidence that I have, and I know that you’re smart enough to know that it doesn’t look good.” Still, Joe sat in silence but managed to glance up at her; he could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. “Why did you lie to me? What’s the true meaning of all of this material we took from your office? Did you kill Lyra? Why? Just tell me your side,” she bombarded him with question after question. With each new question that rolled off of her tongue the louder and louder her voice echoed in his mind. All at once, everything going on within his mind intensified; the detective’s voice got louder, his heart beat pounded like a hammer, and his sweat seemed to drench him as the heat of the room suffocated him; at some point in the end Rarity’s voice turned into a shrill ringing in his ears. Despite all of this though, all of these occurrences that told him to scream out and say something, anything, he remained at a loss for words.
“You know what I think happened?” she concluded, ready to paint the picture of truth, “I think you killed her. I think you were tired of not getting your money up front, and perhaps even worse I think you were angered by the fact that Lyra didn’t return your affections… your desires,” she tapped her pencil on the table, “Does that sound right?” she then asked him mockingly. She had no desire to hear his answer for she already knew what it was.
“She came into your store that day to buy a very pricey set of earrings, and then when her personal check bounced for the amount, something about that pushed you over the edge. Maybe it was because it was her most expensive purchase from you or maybe you realized that it was going to be an endless cycle of not getting your money and getting rejected, so out of pure anger you snuck out into the night, followed her home after her invitation-only recital, and murdered her. You beat her to a pulp with your bare hooves, cut her up like a piece of meat, and then further butchered her body in an attempt to mimic the killing of the Black Zinnia.” She stared at him so intensely that he had stopped darting his eyes about the room and couldn’t stop himself when he stared back at her with an empty and expressionless look upon his face. “Paying homage, perhaps?” she asked, “Or were you hoping to throw us off?” she stated what she believed his true intent was with a quiet chuckle at the end.
Something in that final question finally pushed Joe over the edge. To say that she had psychologically damaged and subdued him would be an understatement. Every sound inside and outside of his body echoed out so loudly that he felt like his eardrums were readying to burst, and his mind raced with a million vivid memories of Lyra, sweet Lyra, and the awful things that he had done to her. Along with that, the insinuations and statements that Rarity threw at him pounded on his psyche like artillery shells as they battered the beaches in Normaredy. He felt like he could feel himself dying because of all of this, and he just wanted it to stop! Finally, for the first time in what had seemed like an eternity, he broke the silence with a scream.
“OK!” he shouted afterwards so loudly that it stopped Rarity in her tracks and made Star tense up dangerously, “I did it! I killed her! I don’t know why I did, but I did it!” Guilt welled inside of him, and anger and shame overcame him. He snatched up the cigarette packet from the floor and struck another one to life. He struggled to keep from suffocating as he freely cried and lamented over what he had done. “I knew Lyra, and I loved her, but now she’s dead because of me!”
Rarity smiled subtly to herself as she watched the scene before her unfold. She had done it. She had cracked him and gotten her confession. She didn’t even allow him the time to finish smoking his cigarette before she replied, “I know you did, Mr. Joe. That’s all I needed to hear. However, I do have two more questions.” He said nothing and he didn’t even look at her or acknowledge her, but she knew that he could hear her and that he would likely tell her what she wanted to know; she had broken him. Though she had gotten the confession that she desired, this interview wasn’t over. “Was it a knife that you used? What did you do, and what did you do with the earrings?”
He was quiet for a moment but after he took a puff of his cigarette, in his blind state, he simply told her, “Yes. I threw it in the ocean. Off of the Santa Maneica Pier.” He didn’t really understand why he told her. He simply did.
“The earrings?”
“I don’t remember.”
Rarity judged him silently for a few moments before she snapped her notebook shut. It really didn’t matter. She had gotten the information that she wanted and needed; a confirmed motive, a weapon involved in the murder and a location on it, and most importantly, a confession. The hopefully still-bloodstained earrings would have been a nice addition to show to the jury, but she knew that it wasn’t necessary and that it was perhaps her keen eye for detail or her attention to the tiny things that stoked the hope she would have been able to find them. Of course, it may have been her morality as well. In any event, she knew that Coroner Sparkle’s testimony would be enough for a jury in that regard.
“Very well,” she cleared her throat and stood up; Star moved behind Joe and stood him up, “Joe Diamond, I’m charging you with the murder of Lyra Heartstrings and placing you under arrest for the same charge,” she continued while she watched Star stand a limp Joe up and place cuffs on his hind and front legs.
“You will remain here until your day in court of which the date will be determined by due process. If you cannot afford an attorney or do not wish to appoint one, one will be appointed for you.” She was then quiet for a moment while she watched Star finish the job and move to escort him out of the room en route to a dirty, dark, and cramped jail cell. As the shell of a pony passed by her, like a dog being steered by its master, she concluded, “Good luck to you sir, and may there be mercy on your soul.”