//------------------------------// // Revenge of the Sphinx - Chapter II // Story: Sherlock Hooves - The Lost Cases // by Scribble Script //------------------------------// 2nd – Take away the Superstition “I can tell this much”, I said after my improvised but nevertheless careful examinations of the body. “Rigor mortis is fully formed, so Doctor Stone is dead for at least six hours.” Midnight Star unhappily glanced between myself and Inspector Lestride; to look at the coffin she avoided at all cost, understandably. The Palace Court Inspector had with unusual empathy offered to accompany her outside, but she had been adamant to attend the examination. And as much as I wanted to, to nurse her wouldn’t benefit for the cause. Yet I tried to deliver the information as sober as possible. “Cause of death was strangulation, at least that’s what the evidences suggest: Strangulation marks on his throat, discolouration of the facial skin beneath his fur, swelling of the tongue. He has almost bitten it off in his mortal agony. That’s where the blood comes from… Chrm, chrm…” I had to clear my throat, even after my years in the army, it still is never easy for me to stay calm at death’s door… “So, Doctor Trotson.” I was fairly surprised that it was Midnight Star who spoke up now. “The main question preying on all our minds: What about the bandages?” I’ll admit that I enjoyed being the centre of attention for once, despite the situation. And unlike my genius friend, I was happy to share my knowledge. I casted my magic to carefully levitate said yellowed, linen bandages in front of our eyes. “These were wrapped around his throat. Even without a proper assay I can tell they’re very old; and that’s the essential point here.” My magic tore at both ends of the bandages. Under the shocked looking eyes of Inspector Lestride they ripped up right in half. “Time has made them bitty. This bandage would’ve never stood the force necessary to strangle somepony.” I nodded at the coffin. “Not that her majesty would have needed a weapon to kill her victim in the first place. Not with this paws…” “So it wasn’t the murder weapon?” the Inspector broached the subject again. The emotions playing on his face ranged between bewilderment and actual relief. “Adder Stone’s voicebox has been downright mashed”, I explained. “And see those characteristic marks on his throat? They suggest that a strong rope was used to kill him. As far as I can tell, those bandages serve no other purpose than to distract from the true murder weapon.” As shocking and unfortunate Doctor Stone's violent demise had been, the insight from my examination was certainly a step into the right direction. He hadn’t been strangled by mummy bandages and neither by lion’s paws. Unless the sphinx queen in the coffin had a shady fable for mooring ropes, we had to look for a culprit otherwise… Adder Stone’s death of course meant I now had lost my main suspect as well, not that I would have had much evidence against him, that is. But my thoughts circled around my previous reflection about who had the motive and the opportunity to kill both Apocrypha and Scriptoria. To this list I now had to add another murder. So we were looking for a pony with foremost a motive to kill this illustrious trio of archaeologists. Does that ring a bell? Well, it didn’t with me at that moment, but I told Lestride the theory we had worked out after our conversation with Mister Silver Blaze – redacted regarding my main suspect, of course. “So you assume a member of the expedition is the culprit, yes?” Lestride scratched his chin. “Wouldn’t lack a certain logic. I will have a constable compare the labels on the exhibits with the inventory list later. But first…” He built up himself in front of Midnight Star. “I still have some questions to ask, Miss Star!” “Inspector!”, I tried to intervene, but the young lady just rose her hoof and silenced me. She shook her head. “It’s alright, Doctor.” She was looking faint, but determined. “I understand that you have to ask these questions, Inspector Lestride. I have nothing to hide, so right beforehoof: No, Inspector, I have no alibi. I was at home last night, but since I live alone and am neither married nor liaised I fear nopony can bear testimony. Although I belief somepony would have noticed if I had left my apartment. The stairs creak terribly…” “With all due respect to your zeal, Inspector, but Miss Star couldn't possibly have killed Scriptoria and Apocrypha! She wasn’t even part of the expedition, am I right?” That interjection of mine was actually a shot in the dark, but to my relief, she nodded. “Draw it mild”, complained Inspector Lestride. “I won’t harm a hair on her. You seem to take me for a bigger mare-hater than even Mister Hooves, Doctor! I don't supect her any more than any other pony in any way related to the victims; but it is a fact that Palace Court knows next to nothing aboot Doctor Adder Stone, and the most obvious thing to do is ask somepony who knew the victim. Why not start with the mare who prides herself in being his assistant?” “I will help if I can”, Miss Star confirmed. She was visibly struggling to retain her composure. Considering the situation, and though her unsteady eyes revealed her agitation, she did great so far. As physician, however, I could by no means support her to undergo Lestride’s interrogation. A glass of cognac and some hours of rest is what I had rather prescribed instead. Well, I do admit in hindisght (Sherlock would hold that against me forever, if I didn’t) my sympathy for Miss Star might have clouded my objectivity a little at that point and I was willing to let slip a possibly important testimony, just to spare her from an inconvenience; but be it as it may, I nevertheless voiced my advice. “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary”, Miss Star modestly objected. “Miss Star, as a physician I must insist…” I tried my luck again, but the lady cut me short: “Doctor Trotson, I appreciate your concern about me”, she clamoured. “But I’m no weak little doll who needs protection. I may be in shock - no, I most definitely am in shock and I have no doubt his face…” She tilted her head towards the coffin. “Will haunt me in my nightmares the very moment I close my eyes tonight. But now I’m wide awake and … I’m alright… Even if it’s only for now…” Her cracking voice revealed how at the breaking point her nerves actually were, but during her last words she somehow gained back her composure. “If I had taken the matter in my own hooves earlier, Doctor Stone might have been still alive. I could never forgive myself if I now wouldn’t do anything in my might to help to bring the killer to justice.” “Then please tell us about the members of the expedition”, Inspector Lestride said. “That’ll do for the moment.” “They were good ponies”, Midnight Star replied. “And good scholars. Their loss is the biggest tragedy that has ever struck the Royal University. When I heard about Professor Apocrypha’s death in Saddle Arabia, it at once occurred to me this expedition was ill-starred… So, what can I tell you about the members of the expedition? Oh, yes: Apocrypha was a real do-it-yourself-stallion. He had lead several expeditions to the farthest parts of the continent and had made some sensational discoveries. And once he was back from an expedition he was busily planning the next one… This had been the second time he was working together with my doctoral adviser. Adder Stone is… Oh, I mean he was more a theorist. He spent more time in lecture halls and libraries than actually on-site. But maybe that’s why he and the professor had been working together so well. They kind of completed each other. The expert treasure hunter and the master of extinct languages, that’s what all used to call them. They were very popular and many of their prime students had been keen to accompany them on this field trip…” “You too?” Inspector Lestride asked and narrowed his eyes. So much for he didn't suspect Miss Star... “I know what you mean,” she declared with shining eyes, apparently completely unaware that Lestride was trying to set a trap for her. “What an opportunity, wasn’t it? But sadly there was no way for me to participate in the expedition. As irksome as it was, it simply was impossible to abandon my studies at the university. We’ve finally been sent the fragments of the hieroglyph slabs from the Monolith of Abydos-Olim, the paperwork has costed me almost a year! If I can decipher these missing hieroglyphs it might revolutionise our understanding of the Coltyptian geomantism!” Excitement made her voice speed up and her eyes shine as she spoke about her work at the university. Needless to say neither Lestride nor I knew what she was so excited about. The Inspector took a wary try to bring her back on track again: “Miss Star, if you would…?” The unicorn blinked in confusion. “Excuse me…?” she wondered, but then apparently recalled what Lestride meant. “Oh, oh yes… So, the point is, because of this very expedition the whole Coltyptian Department was in turmoil. There was bad blood on all sides because they all wanted to go to Saddle Arabia.” “Sounds like half the faculty would want to kill the professor”, I interjected, and my comment earned a bitter laughter from Inspector Lestride. That would make how many suspects? Fifty? “Oh no, Doctor Trotson. Doctor Stone and Professor Apocrypha didn’t take the easy way out in choosing the last member for their expedition”, Miss Star objected to my words. “It was near and dear to them to have everypony know that when they eventually choose Scriptoria for the lucky one… Oh, excuse me… Come to think of it, he hasn’t been lucky after all, has he?” “Considering he’s dead: Not at all, no”, Lestride bone-dryly commented. And there his newfound sense of tact was lost again… He vainly tried to cross-check the hopeless bits of paper that was his notes before he eventually addressed Miss Star again: “I fear this one’s a dead end. Or should I say there’d be too many turnings on this street? Do you recall anything in particular? Did somepony stay in your mind for… uh, I don’t know… Being especially livid or so?” “No, I don’t think so… Or, maybe…” Miss Star’s chewed on her lip as she thought back. “Wait, I actually do recall one incident, Inspector. I don’t know if it has anything to do with the murders, though.” The scene Miss Midnight Star described to us had taken place the day before Professor Apocrypha and Doctor Adder Stone had left for Saddle Arabia. Miss Star, who was on her way to the library to look something up (She didn’t elaborate that point in particular but I divine it had something to do with this monolith she had mentioned earlier). In any case she happened to overhear part of a conversation, or rather an argument Doctor Stone had had with another stallion in his office. The other pony, as far as Miss Star could gauge it, proffered his muddled theories about how the sphinxes had discovered the secret of immortality and about ever-living wards that guarded the royal Coltyptian tombs. Yet of course he remained short on giving a proof for his half-baked thesis, and ostensibly Doctor Stone told that to his face. These kinds of controversial discussions are daily fare in the archaeological faculty, so Miss Star thought nothing more of it. She hadn’t paid any closer attention to the argument and hadn’t recognized the other stallion either. But since all Canterlot seemed to have to deal with a murderous mummy now, she wondered, if it hadn’t been an ordinary scientific debate at all. “Sounds like somepony was trying to sow superstition even before the first murder had happened”, Lestride snorted. “What a shame we don’t know who that makebate was. I’d like to have a few words with him! Blasted, my first day back on duty, the whole city’s full to the brim with superstition, we have a murder case at hoof and Mister Hooves will certainly give me a piece of his mind for not preventing this from happening!” “Inspector, you can’t have shot your bolt yet!” I scolded. I wasn’t at all liking the way this situation seemed to be headed. A self-pitying Inspector Lestride was serving none of us! So I thought about a telling-off to bring him back on the track again: “You stand for law and order in Canterlot! It can’t always be Sherlock Hooves who does what actual is YOUR duty to do!” Inspector Lestride looked like an éclair was stuck cross in his throat. Quite understandably, usually it was Sherlock who gave him this kind of scolding, and now, even as the detective wasn’t around, he still was getting his comeuppance; from old me, Doctor Trotson! But in matter of stubbornness the Inspector was very well neck and neck with Sherlock; now this stubbornness would hopefully rekindle Lestride’s ingenuity, a gift that was -according to Sherlock- all too rarely used! His actual reaction, however, came a bit unexpected: He started to laugh. “I never cut a fine figure in your stories, Doctor, do you really expect me, the unimaginative, stubborn and always wrong Inspector to save the day? But when you’re right, you’re right... Until now, I had no time to thoroughly investigate this case and that’s exactly what I’m going to do! Take away all that superstition and you’re left with some plain old murders, although they’re probably connected to each other. So motive and opportunity, it all comes down to these two questions, doesn’t it?” “So we figured, yes.” “Then that’s exactly what we need to discover. And as for the second question: Would you care to find out aboot who had an opportunity to kill at least Professor Apocrypha and Mister Scriptoria? Then I know exactly, where we need to go.” -<0>- The offices of Seven Seas Shipping are located at the docks on the navigable part of the Brightwater River, just below the waterfall. Among a dozen other ships, the ill-fated ship of our case, the Celestial Star is part of this company’s fleet. For this afternoon, Inspector Lestride had arranged with the manager of the shipping company to meet the Star’s current first mate, an earth pony stallion with a broad Green-Isle-accent and even broader blue sideburns who quite tellingly was called Briny O’Blue. He told us that he had been the unlucky pony to discover the body of Scriptoria in the hold. When Lestride opened up his inquiry, O’Blue rose his hooves in a baffled way and uneasily fidgeted around in his chair. “Grim, dis journey, sir, very grim! Rough sea an' storm for de whole passage, de whole cargo dat had ter be secured over an' over again, a sour crew an' a bunch of weord passengers who alwus girn an' argue wi' each other. Oi tell yer, dis murder, an' even if a four-thousand-years-auld mummy 'as done it, wus only de last link in a whole chain of misfortune.” It was written all over Lestride’s face that he had to struggle to keep calm when O’Blue started to ramble on like this. Such talkative witnesses are said to the curse of an Inspector’s profession, especially when they just won’t and won’t come to the point of their story. And as much as I can tell for myself, I believe Lestride was exactly as keen to get to the case’s bottom on his own and before Sherlock changed his mind and upstaged him. “Leftenant O’Blue”, the Inspector gritted. “Would you kindly tell us aboot what you saw when you found Mister Scriptoria.” “Ah, of course, I’m sorry”, the officer apologized. He collected his thoughts and continued: “Let me see… Aye, it 'ad been windless for once, an' de captain sent me ter de forehold ter yet again check de load. oi 'eaded ter de Coltyptian artworks at once cos Doctor Stone seemed ter be especially worried aboyt dem. Oi foun' scriptoria next ter de coffin’s box, wi' pieces of de mummy-wraps roun 'is throat. De box 'ad been opened an' de casket lid wus seated on all askew. Scriptoria wus lyin' dead, next ter sum kind of chest. Oh wait, dat’s strange: Cum ter tink of it, oi 'enny seen dis chest later. Don't nu wat 'appened ter it... However, Oi reported ter de captain immediately an' he tasked me wi' de investigashun.” “So, there was a something taken away from the crime scene, hmm? And your Investigation? What did you find out?” “Nothin' much, I’m afraid, sir. Yer nu, it wus aboyt 8 glasen, that’s 8 o’clock for yer, on de turd day on 'igh sea. A storm 'ad been blowin' al' noight long, that’s why de crew 'ad continued on their post. So they al' 'ad an alibi. De passengers, Scriptoria too, 'ad all stayed on their cabins, at laest as far as Oi cud ascertain… So nopony 'ad seen or learned anythin'.” “You didn’t come upon anything suspicious or uncommon?” “Just a minute, oi didn’t say dat. It started wi' de crew. Sailors are superstitious from de first an' our crew wus it al' de more. De noshun ter 'av an auld mummy on board 'ad shuk dem al' stiff. An' dis journalist, dis Dusty Trail, also didn’t exactly chucker us a favour wi' al' 'is chatter aboyt ghosts an' immortal being. He an' Doctor Stone were arguin' aboyt dat topic al' along, an' de crew got wind of it. We almost got involved wi' a blasted mutiny, for cryin' oyt loud! Oh, excuse me, sir…” Briny O’Blue interrupted himself, because we all got up to our hooves, all together like on a concreted sign. Maybe he thought we had upset us because he had drifted into his rambling again. Yes, indeed, we were in a hurry to take our leave, but for a different reason than Leftenant O’Blue might have figured: Unknowingly the officer had unveiled to us a delicate little detail, one to. I had looked over Sherlock’s shoulder long enough to take notice of it, and luckily Miss Star (and also Inspector Lestride) were quick-witted enough to perceive it, too. The true events behind these three murders I had meanwhile given the working title Revenge of the Sphinx, this morning they had been shrouded by superstition and a stour of lacking facts and possibilities, but now the truth seemed a lot more within reach. We so bid goodbye to Leftenant Briny O’Blue, not without evincing him our gratitude and headed out for our next target, and if luck was on our side, it would be the last place we’d need to visit. Today and for this whole case. -<0>-