Later that evening Rarity and Spike returned home and she continued with her usual routine; cleaning her already neat and organized office space, washing the dishes, and balancing her finances; all of them luxuries to her before she moved on to examine another file in an ever-growing stack of manila folders and cluttered notebooks. Another case was closed and the job was done. Now it was time to move on to something else. Though it was certain to be nothing as exciting or inspiring as a murder, it was work that needed to be done nonetheless. A mare or colt suspicious of their significant other perhaps? A string of crafty robberies at the same store maybe? A missing somepony with dreams of stardom, lost in the big bad city of Las Pegasus possibly? It was all part of her after-investigation routine and it would have continued on that way had she not been interrupted by a knock at the door. She expected it to be another client, but when she opened the door she was graced with the most pleasant surprise that she had had in as long as she could remember.
Captain Shining Star’s eyes met hers and whether it be out of reflex or bashfulness, he looked away from them for a split second. He looked awfully handsome with his mane combed back and tucked neatly beside his ears, and he wore a black suit with a white dress shirt and red tie. Rarity wasn’t sure, but she couldn’t help but think that it was his old getup that he wore back when he worked with her all those years ago.
“Hello Rarity,” he greeted and looked back at her, “I’m sorry I dropped by on such short notice, but I was wondering if I could take you to dinner? I was thinking we could celebrate, and it’s the least I could do for you taking this case off my hooves and mopping the floor with it like you usually do.” He smiled thoughtfully at her and then cleared his throat. “My own personal thank you, of course… I trust that the good city of Las Pegasus already thanked you with a fairly hefty check?”
“Mhm,” she smiled cockily back at him and teased, “You never did have a thing for notices darling, so who am I to expect them now?” She sighed playfully, “But yes, I’d love to. Please, do come in.” She stepped aside and allowed him into her home and headquarters; his old home and headquarters. It was exactly as he remembered it, right down to the flooring, and it even smelled the same; that old yet satisfying musty smell that one might encounter inside of a library or bookstore. The little dragon assistant, Spike, now he was new, but otherwise everything else was exactly the same. It was a good and nostalgic sensation, and though he didn’t show it, it made him sad to remember his decision to leave Rarity and the agency. Still, in his heart he felt like he had made the right decision.
When she closed the door behind him she caught sight of something out of the corner of her eye that was in Star’s left hoof and hidden out of her sight beneath him.
“What’s that you’re holding darling?” she asked him casually.
“Oh!” Star looked at her and down at the items he held several times after she reminded him of them. “Sorry! I got these for you.” He pulled them out from beneath him and revealed to her a beautiful bouquet of roses and daisies.
“How thoughtful!” she was genuinely surprised when she took them, “They’re beautiful!” She sniffed them briefly and then smiled at him while she looked into his eyes for what seemed like the longest time. For a time that felt equally as long, the two of them looked at each other in silence and then, for the first time in a very long time, Rarity found herself struggling for words and stuttering over them to boot.
“W-well,” she cleared her throat and pulled her eyes away from him with a deep blush on her face, “I suppose I should put these in a vase and get ready. Do make yourself comfortable.” She turned and went to walk away from him, still rather swooning, and banged her leg on the table. Too embarrassed to even look back at him she pressed on and rounded the corner out of his sight.
Meanwhile, Captain Star did as Rarity had invited and made himself comfortable. He sat down on the old sofa in front of the coffee table that Rarity had banged her knee on and continued to look around the place that he remembered. Even the old sofa brought him a sense of nostalgia as he remembered the many sleepless nights that he had spent upon it looking over pages upon pages of evidence and some nights getting nowhere and other nights cracking the case wide open. Outcome aside, like his old partner, on that old sofa he would sit and in the very least wait, wonder, and know that he would eventually get his suspect and close his case.
In what seemed like only a few minutes Star had spent so much time reminiscing that he found himself surprised when Rarity traipsed around the corner wearing a magnificent dress, likely of her own design, that only magnified the intensity of her beauty. It was royal blue and glistened, somehow, like it’s wearer in even the dimmest of light. In her left hoof she held a crystal vase filled with water and the gorgeous assortment of flowers that he had gifted her, with the exception of a single rose that she had plucked from its stem and fixed carefully into her mane. The dumbstruck stallion couldn’t help but stare at her.
“Everything alright?” she asked and snapped him out of it as she crossed through the living room and entered into her office so that she could place the vase on her desk. Her voice sounded genuine and she didn’t stop walking, and he was thankful for that because it meant that she didn’t realize he had essentially ogled her. But then again, she was the famous Detective Rarity and she could see more than anypony else could.
“Yes, yes, everything is all good. Just… thinking about the old place.” He turned and looked about one more time as Rarity crossed back into the living room to join him. “Well,” he clapped his hooves on the floor and smiled at her, “Are you ready to go?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she smiled and followed him to the door but stopped him when he opened it. “Oh yes, one more thing. Do you mind if Spike tags along? I know the poor dear must be starving.”
“That sounds good to me. I haven’t had the opportunity to really met him anyway.”
“Spike!” she called his name, “Spike!” she called again and finally summoned the dragon from his lair in the corner of the next room over.
“Yeah?” he poked his head around the corner.
“Myself and the Captain here are going to dinner. You want to come along?”
Spike eyed them suspiciously for a few moments before he eventually replied with, “Are you two going to kiss? Bleh,” he made a disgusted face, “Count me out! But thanks anyway.”
When he said that, Star made a noise that was part suppressed laugh and part shocked cough, and he pulled his tie away from his neck and cleared his throat afterwards, and Rarity simply turned a deep and embarrassed red. She wanted to say something in retort, and she sensed that Star wanted to as well, but neither of them, despite their bravery, really wanted to say anything.
“Very well then,” Rarity said as she tried to retain her composure, “I’ll just bring you something home then.”
“That works for me,” Spike winked at her and disappeared around the corner with his comic book. All of Rarity’s intuition told her that Spike had probably made that little comment on purpose. Still red as the coastal sunset, she bit her lip and looked up at Star in an almost apologetic way and the way in which he smiled back at her only made her smile as well, and finally, the two quietly laughed.
“Well… shall we?” he indicated the door.
“After you,” she replied cheerfully and then followed him out into the hallway and down the stairs into the lobby. She didn’t know where he would take her and she really didn’t care. Not only was she out with her old friend, but it was nice to think that now, at the end of a day when she had done some real good in the world, she had the time to go out to a nice dinner. They talked of trivial things on the walk, but each of them, in the equally passionate professions that they pursued, were eager to talk of the elephant in the room; the case that she had solved. Alas though, as was silent custom, that would wait until they were properly situated into their seats and well into their meals and drinks until the details of the newly solved case would be discussed.
It, the case that is, had excited a great many officers in the Las Pegasus Police Department, and a few key members of the press as well. Not only was the renowned Detective Rarity on the case, there was evidence that suggested either the elusive Black Zinnia Killer was back or a copycat killer was on the prowl, and it was only natural that everyone wanted to know what would happen. Was there a need to be afraid? A need to constantly look over one’s shoulder? No one would know until the case was solved, and that’s how it had always been for those types of cases and how it always would be. To some, the unknown was frightening, but to others, like Rarity, the unknown provided a rush and a euphoria, but most importantly, it provided a purpose. True, she was rather peeved that it had not been the Zinnia and that she had not been assigned to, in the very least, assist with the investigation into what already seemed like a decades old case; “The case to close all cases” they had called it in the papers and behind the big oak doors inside of the LPPD that were labeled Detective Bureau: Homicide. All the same though, she retained a sense of relief that it had not been what she had expected it to be.
- - - - -
“My only regret is…” she began to conclude, only to stop and drum her hooves on the table for a few moments as if she were deep in thought or perhaps hesitant to say what it was that was on her mind.
“Is what?” Star asked with genuine curiosity as he took a sip of his wine.
“My only regret is that I had all but forgotten the Zinnia. ‘The case to close all cases’,” she recalled again, “shoved to the bottom of my mind beneath a couple missing or dead pets and a lot of scorned lovers.” She sighed.
“Poor choice of words dear. I don’t think you forgot it.” Star retained his wineglass but swirled it around in a way that struck Rarity as being absentminded.
“Well, I didn’t forget it forget it, but…” she stopped herself, “Whatever do you mean?”
“You’re, well, you. You don’t just forget. You never have. I think you just found yourself caught up in the more mundane side of that little agency of yours and simply lost sight of the bigger picture. Didn’t forget, just…”
“Lost sight…” she finished for him and then stared into her own half-empty crystal wineglass.
“Precisely,” he concluded and took a bite of what little bit of food remained on his plate. Rarity hadn’t heard him use the “P word” in a long time, at least not since he had abandoned the PI life; Cops said “Exactly” and Detectives said “Precisely”. It flooded her with joy to know that her old partner might have changed, but he hadn’t lost himself in a profession that so rarely sent ponies home the same as they had come in. Aside from that joy though, she was still burdened by a kind of guilt that rested on her shoulders. Someone who never wore the badge, or who never worked a case could never even hope to understand it, but Star understood it, as he saw it in her eyes, and Rarity understood it too.
“Then of course, you can chalk even more of that up to our handiwork at the department. It was in the papers and on radios everywhere, and as a matter of fact a lot of it still is. I mean…” he quieted his voice when a waiter walked by, “Severed in half? The body played with and all arranged like it’s some sort of joke? Who does that?” Rarity could hear the disgust in his voice, and it matched the disgust that she held within herself.
“A monster. A pure, cold monster,” she replied and then took a particularly stiff swig of her own wine. She had seen those pictures, the ones of Lily DeShort, now dubbed by the papers as “The Black Zinnia”. She had hoped she would never have to see anything as vile as that for the remained of her life, and yet here she sat at the conclusion of a murder that was like that down to nearly every detail.
“A monster like Joe Diamond?” he asked, largely out of impulse. Rarity said nothing in response. She didn’t need to.
Star sighed and continued, “But anyway, you remember how it was. I didn’t bring you out to dinner just so that you could lose it all over again. Ponies had never seen anything like it, and it scared them. Scared a lot of us too.”
“Did it scare you?” Rarity asked. It was her turn to ask more out of impulse rather than genuine curiosity.
Star remained silent for a few moments before he answered her. He pondered if it would be easier on himself to simply lie to her, but in the end he accepted that she would just see right through it. She always had.
“Yes,” he eventually answered, “of course it did. It still does. I’ll never be able to forget that sight so long as I live.” It was his turn to take an especially stiff drink of his wine. “Speaking of regrets, my only regret is that I beat the homicide detectives there. I like to tell myself that if I hadn’t I might not have had to look at her, but I know that probably isn’t the case. About eight of us secured the scene, not counting the detectives, and only about half of us came back into work the next day. The rest all turned in their badges.”
Rarity wanted to say something to him, but she knew that there was nothing that she could. Every detective, every cop will see at least one thing in their career that will go to the grave with them, and Sargent Shining Star had seen his on the morning of January the 15th, 1947.
“I understand,” was all she managed to quietly say. She reached across the table and gently placed her hoof atop his. They smiled at each other and then Star withdrew his hoof and cleared his throat, indicating to her that he was OK.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you everything when you first came onto the case,” he switched the subject, “but I knew how bad you wanted on the Zinnia case… how bad you wanted to at least have a small part in it, and I was afraid that you would have gone looking in the wrong direction. You got your suspect, and he was a copycat. That satisfies the department and the papers, it certainly satisfies me, and I hope it does the same for you as well.”
Rarity pondered everything for a moment before she disregarded everything and asked, with some resent and anger in her voice, “Why didn’t you want me on the Black Zinnia’s case? Why didn’t you vouch for me?” She had tried numerous times via letters and calls to the department to get assigned to the murder, if not as the investigating detective then an assistant detective, but each and every time she did either her request was denied or her phone calls and letters went unreturned. She had solved murders for the police department before, some even in the incredible and record-breaking course of twenty-four hours, and they knew of her capabilities and renowned her for them, so why was it that she could not be asked to solve what was arguably their most difficult case to date? She knew, knew, that if her inside connection, Shining Star, had put in a good word for her that she might have been called in and assigned without a second thought in the world. As a matter of fact, Star, like he had done a few weeks before, probably didn’t even need to get authority from anypony to bring her on board.
“I didn’t want you to get hurt,” he replied without hesitation and interrupted her resentful thought process. He leaned forward, looked into her eyes and continued, “You’re the best this city has Rarity. Sure, we haul in the drunks and the crooks and generally just keep the trash off of the streets, but who does everypony call when a dead body turns up and they actually want the case to be solved? A bunch of suit-wearing hacks who sit around working traffic cases and eating scones all day? No, they call you. They call you because they need you, and you’re the best they can hope for.”
Perhaps it was just the dim candlelit atmosphere of the restaurant, but it looked to him as if Rarity had tears welling in her eyes. Still, whether she did or not, she still wasn’t able to fathom while she, the “best” as he had put it, hadn’t been allowed to solve the one case that needed solving. The average murder didn’t leave ponies locking their doors and looking over their backs everywhere they went, but this one did, and it needed to be solved… and yet here she sat.
“What does that have to do with me not even being considered to work the case?” she asked. That same passion and fire that burned so brightly in her and that Star admired so much still burned brightly.
“It wasn’t, isn’t, rather, a question of your skills or the knowledge of the fact that you aren’t with the department anymore. I just didn’t want you to get hurt, and… I didn’t want to lose you, so I refused to put in a good word for you, and every time they talked of putting you on the case I advised against it, and… I might have thrown away some of your letters to make sure nopony else saw them. But I know how bad you want it though, trust me, I do.”
“You know I can handle myself,” she huffed and fought just as fiercely as she had all those months ago.
“For Celestia’s sake Rarity!” Star had to keep himself from shouting at her determination. It was one of the many things that he loved about her, but it got on his nerves more than was healthy for a stallion his age, he was sure. “I know you can handle yourself. Like I said, I never doubted that and the detective bureau never doubted it either, but… but this colt isn’t your run of the mill scorned lover or cheated wisecracker. He’s smart, and he hates mares to boot.” He was quiet for a few moments before he concluded, “You can’t seriously look me in the eyes and say that a pony that can do that to another pony, a mare, doesn’t hate them... and I’m just trying to protect you from that hate. Along with that, how many sleepless nights do you think you would go through? You’re one pony, a smart one, but just one. We have the resources and the bodies to find him.”
“So you wouldn’t let me on because I’m a female?”
“In regards to this one? ‘Target’ is a better word.”
Rarity wanted nothing more than to shoot another argument his way, see if she could get more information out of him, but she was wise enough to know when enough was enough. Still, risks and challenges aside, she knew that she could brave whatever the murderer might have tried to throw at her and bring him to justice. She knew that he was right to say that it would be her most insurmountable challenge yet, and she knew that she could do it, but she resented the knowledge that she would never get to unless there was some kind of miracle. What a shame that there was no room in a detective’s life for miracles.
She was hurt that he had lied to her, of course, and had tried to hide what she felt could have been crucial details of the case at hand from her, but now at least she understood, clearly, his motive. Still, she hated the fact that it had to be that way. She would have to continue on as she had and hope that, as time went on and the cases on her desk multiplied, she would forget or “lose sight of” the minute details of the case as she had already done, or, if she was lucky, forget about the case in its entirety. Fat chance she thought to herself and then, with a mental sigh, but no use crying over spilled milk I suppose.
“Thank you,” she eventually said. It was all she could think of to say. She could not bring herself to make peace with it, and she didn’t want to fight it anymore. She was tired of fighting.
“You’re welcome,” he smiled back, “We couldn’t do it all without you Rarity.” Afterwards, the two silently sat for a few moments and would occasionally glance into each other’s eyes, each pondering what was going through the other’s head. It was just something cops and detectives did, especially those of the opposite sex, but nevertheless it was something that had to be done when motives and inner thoughts were exchanged. Eventually though, Star cleared his throat once again, adjusted his tie, and asked her, “So… what’s next as far as Diamond?”
“Well, I was planning on visiting the jail in the morning and seeing if I could get him to tell me what he did with the earrings.” She began to nibble on the piece of bread that she had levitated up from her plate.
“Why?”
“They’ll be good for evidence. Also, I’d like to buy them properly, clean them up if need be, and give them to Lyra’s spouse. Perhaps they’ll give her closure in some way. I don’t know. Otherwise, if she doesn’t want them, I’ll keep them.” Getting emotionally attached to a victim or a case could be a very dangerous thing for a detective, and Rarity knew this, but she felt that the various little tokens and trinkets she had collected over her years of real investigative work reminded her that she was doing the right thing.
Star nodded and then asked, “So then what’s next for you?”
Rarity thought it an odd question, for though he hadn’t been in close, constant contact with her since he asked if she would take the Lyra Heartstrings case, he knew all too well what she did at the agency. Still, she was enjoying the dinner and her time out so she decided to humor him. She sighed, “I suppose I’ll be going back to the same old, same old.”
“Tell me, is that something you really enjoy?”
She took a sip of her wine before she answered him. “I wouldn’t say I particularly enjoy it, the cases themselves I mean, but if I have nothing else I have the agency and what it stands for. It’s perhaps not the most exciting thing in the world, but I’m good at it, I do something more adventurous than push a pencil all day, and it keeps food on the table.”
“Oh, well, I think I understand.” Star cleared his throat and reached into his coat pocket, “But I was thinking… there are a lot of cold cases down at the department, all kinds, and, well, if you wanted to, we would surely appreciate the help.” He finally pulled a sealed white envelope from within the confines of his coat and slid it across the table to her. “It’s just a statement from the board saying that we’d like to deputize you,” he explained as she opened it and read the official contents within. “You’ll be paid, of course, not by the hour or on a salary, but for each case closed. Also, you’ll be able to do it on your own time,” he smiled at her and concluded, “I had to fight them for this one, but I knew that we could never get you to leave that agency.”
Rarity finished reading the letter and looked up at him. A few times in the distant past he had tried some recruitment tactics to get her to come back to the police department, mostly when he started to achieve titles of rank, but once as a simple patrol officer, and while for a time he would deliver them face to face, up until this night that had all but ceased. In any event, it didn’t matter, he was right to say that she would never leave the PI agency. It was hers, and likewise, she belonged to it. So what if the cases got a little silly or monotonous at times? If that’s what this was, some sort of recruitment tactic, she had to admit that it was certainly a good one. She skimmed the letter over one more time and then looked back up at him with an impressed smile upon her face. As impressed as she was though, there was one thing that she needed to know and she had a sinking feeling that she already knew what the answer was.
“And the Zinnia case? I can work it?”
Star closed his eyes and shook his head. He chuckled under his breath, “How did I know that was coming? I’m sorry. It’s out of the question. Like I said, that’s an LPPD case.”
“Then I’m afraid it’s out of the question,” she replied steadily and then placed the letter back inside of the envelope and slid the package back across the table to him. No hard feelings. Just another failed recruitment tactic in Rarity’s book.
“Hm,” Star smiled as he took the envelope and placed it back inside of his coat, “I’d like to say I’m surprised, but…” He pondered for a few moments afterwards and then took a bite of his food. “I could use a smoke. Do you mind?”
“Not at all.”
He pulled a cigar out of his coat and promptly lit it. He took a couple silent draws of it and looked off into the distance, at nothing in particular.
“So… think you’ll be able to get him to cough up the earrings?” he eventually asked.
“I’m hopeful, yes. You know how twenty-four hours behind bars goes. Either he’ll have cooled his hooves or he’ll be even more difficult than when he first went in.”
“Right…” he nodded in agreement. He took a few more draws from his cigar and then noticed that most of the food had been cleared from their plates and most of the wine had been drained from their glasses. “Well, would you like anything for dessert?”
“No, I’m fine. Thank you.”
“Of course,” he nodded, “Well, I’m ready when you are.” He signaled to a nearby waiter that he was ready for the check. As they waited, he quickly finished his smoke and extinguished it in the ashtray that sat in the center of the table. The two looked at each other after that, silently pondering each other once again, though in a slightly different sense, but Star eventually broke the cycle.
“I have a question I’ve been meaning to ask you for a long time. See how you and your infinite wisdom might interpret it.”
“Oh? Now just what might that be?”
“Why do you suppose we do what we do? As detectives or cops or what have you, I mean?”
“Hm,” Rarity replied as she pondered on it for a moment. She had often asked herself the very same question, as many law enforcement officers and PIs would during their lives and careers. In the end, she supposed that no one answer could be correct and that every individual asked would have an individual answer, and so she gave hers.
“Because it’s the right thing to do and somepony has to do it.”
“I suppose, but do they really?” Star glanced absentmindedly off to the side, “Wouldn’t things be simpler if we simply didn’t know. Like…” he struggled to find the correct words that would make her understand.
But she understood perfectly, “Ignorant bliss?” she concluded for him and he simply nodded. Like before, she took a few moments to ponder this possibility but eventually shook her head lightly and offered a simple, “No. I don’t think things would be better.” Or would they be worse?
However, whether because she didn’t know or perhaps because the waiter came and dropped the check at the table, she didn’t get to explain herself. Then again, neither of them really needed an explanation. It was just one of those things.
After the check was paid, Rarity and Star walked out into the warm, pleasant night. The streets were still abuzz with activity, but none of that activity seemed to touch either of them as they stood in front of the restaurant. It always irked Star when he tried to recruit Rarity and she declined, but this time it really bothered him, and he just wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was because he felt guilty at the fact that he knew Rarity could and would solve the case and he had been the only thing standing between her and doing so, or perhaps it was a fear of making her upset at him in way that would bar her from him; he drove his friend away when he left her agency, but he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her entirely. He cleared his throat and kicked a stray pebble from the sidewalk as the two set off towards Rarity’s home.
“You know…” he began and then stopped as if he was making a mistake in saying something, but he continued on the basis of knowing that just by saying those two words to her he had already said too much, “I guess through this whole affair that what I’ve been trying to say is… I’m glad this case wasn’t the Zinnia, but at the same time I was hoping that it might’ve been because I know that if anypony could solve it, it would be you. Does that make sense?”
“Yes, I think so.” In all honesty, she wasn’t sure if it did make sense or not, but she decided to simply not ruin the moment and appease him. It was all very strange and confusing, but then again, what part of the detective’s life was not?
“Good, good,” he finally looked at her and smiled, rather weakly, “and even though you didn’t take the department up on its offer, you’ll still do cases for us, right?”
“But of course darling,” she couldn’t help but chuckle, “I do enjoy a little bit of adventure and dirty work every now and again,” she referred specifically to homicides and narcotics, “but I’m just not ready to make it an everyday thing. Not right now anyway. I need to be able to solve my own cases and use my own methods to do so.”
“I see,” he stopped and turned to face her, “And… while you’re objected to the idea of working with us on a regular basis, I hope you aren’t objected to the idea of me walking you home?”
“I’d never even dream of it.”
- - - - - -
The two had taken their time in reaching the building in which Rarity resided, but even when they arrived they did not immediately depart each other. Rather, they concluded the conversation, one of many, that they had been having on their journey across the expansive metropolis that surrounded them. Afterwards, a few moments of silence followed until it was Star who broke the silence with an obviously fake cough. He smiled at her.
“Well, I had a good time. I hope you feel the same?”
“Trust me when I say it’s the most fun I’ve had in a very long time…” she chuckled, “Unless of course you count chasing adulterers, petty thieves and bloodthirsty murders ‘fun’.”
The two laughed at her comment and then proceeded to look silently into each other’s eyes for a time afterwards. Eventually though, Star looked away, towards the ground, and said, “That’s good. I’m glad you had fun,” he smiled, “We should do this again sometime.”
“Indeed,” Rarity replied with a smile and then, without warning, closed in on him and seized his tie. She thought she saw tough-stuff-no-nonsense Captain Star of the Las Pegaus Police Department actually blush, but she wasn’t paying much attention when she softly commanded him, “Hold still.” She adjusted his tie, tightened it up a little and then finally squared the shoulders of his suit coat off; that had bothered her all night, but she truly had been having too much fun to say anything.
“There we are,” she muttered quietly. Even after she had ample time to admire her own handiwork she did not back off of him; remained stationery with her eyes locked on his and one hoof atop his shoulder.
Eyes not moving away from hers, Star said, “Thank you, Rarity. For everything.”
In response, she kissed him on the cheek and finally backed a few paces away from him.
“It’s getting late. I should go check on Spike,” she turned to enter into the building but stopped and looked back at him with a gentle smile on her face.
“Right,” Star said and returned her smile. “Have a good night Rarity. I’ll see you in the morning?”
“Most definitely,” she pushed the door open, “Good night.”