//------------------------------// // Case One, Chapter Three: The Exchange Principle // Story: Ponyville Noire: Tails of Two Private Eyes // by PonyJosiah13 //------------------------------// The Ponyville Police Station was a simple building, a square five-story edifice of red brick and glass that towered over the surrounding offices, sitting on the southern edge of the central city plaza. Rusted letters spelling out “PONYVILLE POLICE DEPARTMENT” stood over the revolving doors in the front. A steady stream of citizens and police officers flowed through the doors. A fleet of cruisers and other carriages stood ready in the parking bay next to the building. Daring and Phillip landed in front of the police station, drawing a few stares from passerby. Dusting himself off, Phillip gave Daring a dirty look. “I know how to walk, you know.” Daring smirked and spread her wings. “I find this to be faster.” Choosing not to answer, Phillip proceeded forward towards the police station. Daring fell into step behind him, staring up at the brick building as it loomed over them. The rows of windows seemed to her like dozens of eyes, glaring down at her. With a shaky breath, she followed Phillip through the revolving doors. The lobby of the police station was wide, with an arched ceiling and a black and white tiled floor. A creaking, slowly turning fan was set in the center of the ceiling, providing no relief whatsoever from the stuffy atmosphere. A few old benches formed a waiting area off to one side: a pair of young burros sat on one bench. An elderly pegasus mare that was rocking back and forth, hugging her knees, was sitting on the opposite bench. An old water cooler stood in a corner; a gurgling coffee machine and a stack of paper cups sat atop a table next to it. A dark green unicorn was sitting behind the counter at the head of the room, taking a long draught from a silver flask; the elevated chair he was sitting in gave him the ability to look down in judgment upon anypony who dared approach him. A series of doors on the far wall led to the offices within the building. As the pair entered the lobby, a pair of cops shoved past them and approached the desk, holding a shackled pony between them. The pale blue pegasus could barely be twenty years old, with a shock of light brown hair; his head lolled as he stumbled and struggled to keep his balance. Blood dripped from his bruised face, leaving a trail of dark spots towards the desk. “Poor wanker must’ve tripped and fallen down the stairs,” Phillip muttered dryly, turning his head away as the arresting officers presented the beaten pony to the desk sergeant like a pair of fishers boasting of their prize catch. Daring glanced up. Another surveillance crystal was mounted on the wall over the doors. The sapphire lens was focused on her; she knew that somewhere in this building, an officer was watching her every move, her image transmitted via magic and projected onto an enchanted screen. Gritting her teeth, she lowered her head and walked forward as quickly as she could, shivers running up and down her spine. Ignoring the desk sergeant completely, Phillip pushed through one of the doors and entered the inner depths of the police station. They walked down a stark white hallway, with officers flowing in and out of offices on either side. A few of them stopped to stare at Phillip as he passed, but none of them challenged him. “Hey, look, the hero’s back,” a tall earth pony sneered to his partner as they passed by. Ignoring them, Phillip pushed open a door and descended down a flight of stairs, Daring following close behind him. They walked down a close, concrete hallway, then through a stark metal door. They found themselves inside a basement laboratory. The stark white windowless walls reminded Daring very strongly of the cells and hallways in Frostback: close and bare, a constant reminder that you had been shoved aside and left to be forgotten. Long tables loaded with a wide variety of chemical equipment were set up in rows, the paraphernalia neatly arranged atop them. The constant buzz from the lights set up in the ceiling was mostly drowned out by a radio in the corner, which was tuned to a classical music channel. There were only two other occupants in the laboratory as they entered, both of them wearing white lab coats. One was a chubby zebra with a long, frizzy mane that spilled down to his shoulders and dark blue eyes like the dusk sky. His cutie mark was a black cauldron, from which blossomed a plume of smoke that shaped itself into a coiled serpent. He wore a single silver ring in his left ear. His partner was a young mulberry unicorn mare with violet eyes. Her dark sapphire mane and tail had rose and purple stripes running through it, and her cutie mark was a light pink six-pointed star with five smaller white stars surrounding it. The mare was bending over a microscope, while the zebra was watching in silence. As Daring and Phillip approached, the unicorn suddenly gave a loud squeal of excitement. “It works, it works, it works, it works!” she sang, bouncing around in a circle with a giddy smile on her face. “A chemical test that will positively identify blood traces, every time! No more false positives! No more missing crucial evidence! No more—” She stopped mid-bounce and stared at the zebra, who was looking at her with a completely unamused expression. She chuckled nervously, a blush spreading across her cheeks. “Your enthusiasm is appreciated, Twilight Sparkle,” the zebra said in a deep, sonorous voice, turning to a set of notebooks on the table. “But perhaps you could hold off on the celebration. There is still much work to do.” Phillip coughed to announce their presence. The zebra turned towards them, momentary surprise flickering across his face before his expression settled into a neutral position. “Good afternoon, Phillip Finder.” “G’day, Doctor Suunkii. Twilight,” Phillip nodded to the pair. “Hello, Phillip,” the mare greeted him with a polite nod. “Who’s your friend?” “Daring Do,” Phillip replied. “Daring, this is Doctor Suunkii and Twilight Sparkle.” “Hey,” Daring replied, raising a hoof. “Hello!” Twilight said with a smile, walking up and shaking Daring’s hoof, much to Daring’s surprise. “Nice to meet you.” “Greetings, Daring Do,” Suunkii replied, his expression showing no sign of any emotion. “I need information,” Phillip reported. “There were three suicides yesterday. I need to know everything you have on them.” Twilight raised an eyebrow at him. Phillip gave a long sigh and rolled his eyes. “May I please have the files on the suicides?” he grumbled. “All right,” Dr. Suunkii nodded. “Come with me.” He exited the room out of a different door, with Phillip following, leaving Daring and Twilight alone in the lab. An awkward silence quickly descended over the two mares. “So,” Twilight said slowly with a rather awkward attempt at a smile. “Congratulations on being released.” Daring scowled at her. Twilight winced, flattening her ears against her head. “I’m sorry, I-I didn't mean to…” Daring closed her eyes and took in a slow breath through her nostrils, held it in her gut for a moment, then released it through her mouth. “It’s fine,” she grunted, ignoring the still lingering flickers of pain running up her right foreleg. They stood in awkward silence for a few moments before Twilight cleared her throat and started again. “How did you meet Phillip?” she asked. “Just today,” Daring replied. “I was recommended to find him for a job. He took me on.” “Ah,” Twilight nodded, pursing her lips. “He just accepted you like that?” “I guess so,” Daring shrugged. “How do you know him?” “Doctor Suunkii knew him when he was a detective here,” Twilight replied, bending back over the microscope and taking up a pen in her magic. “He comes here if he needs information on a case he’s working on, and he helps with our research sometimes.” “And you allow this?” Daring asked slowly. Twilight hesitated for a moment before answering. “I’d prefer to trust the police to investigate crime,” she said. “But, well…” “You can’t trust the police here,” Daring snorted. Twilight nodded. “Unfortunately, no. Phillip’s methods may not always be...agreeable, but he believes in justice. I’d trust him over most of the officers here to solve an important case.” Daring nodded. There was silence between them for a few moments longer, penetrated by the music from the radio and the scratching of Twilight’s pen against the paper as she took notes on her new discovery. “So how did you find your way down here?” Daring asked. “Your accent’s definitely not from Ponyville. Canterlot, I’d guess.” Twilight looked up with a smile. “Very good,” she nodded. “I was born and raised in Canterlot, yes. I’m a graduate student from the Royal Academy of Magic.” Daring’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “You must be pretty good at magic, then.” Twilight rubbed the back of her mane, her blush and embarrassed smile returning. “Well, I suppose I am pretty talented. Princess Celestia and Luna must've thought so, or they wouldn't have accepted me.” She looked back through the microscope. “I’m here working on my doctorate in magic. I’m doing research into the forensic applications of magic.” “You could’ve done that anywhere else,” Daring said. “Why here in Pony-shitville?” “Because I wanted to be where I could do the most good,” Twilight responded. “And I decided that that place was Ponyville.” Daring snorted. “You sound like a politician.” Twilight gave her a look over the microscope. “The only way that anything was ever improved or changed for the better was because somepony believed in what they knew was right and was willing to fight for it. You and I both know, there is something seriously wrong with this city, and it doesn’t have to be this way. Ponies here shouldn’t have to be afraid, and one day, they won’t have to be.” “You’re just one pony,” Daring replied. “Sometimes, one pony is all the world needs,” Twilight replied. Daring just shrugged. At that moment, the door opened again and Phillip and Suunkii reentered, carrying a collection of three folders. Phillip dropped the folders onto the table and began to sort through the papers. Twilight let out a cry of protest. “You’re messing them up!” Ignoring her, Phillip drew his hoof across the case reports, his eyes constantly sliding back and forth as he absorbed the information contained therein. “Scribbled Note. Aesthetic Tone. Gentle Brush. And Pristine Touch,” he reported. “All dead, COD strangulation from being hanged. No sign of forced entry.” He glanced down at the bottom of the autopsy reports. “Hmm. Doctor Mortis signed off on these.” “Then you can be assured that they were thoroughly checked for any sign of irregularity, which would have been noted,” Suunkii stated. “Fair dinkum,” Phillip nodded in agreement. He started studying the information on the victims. “Hmm. They all worked for Silvertongue.” Daring’s eyebrows shot up again. “Really?” “Yup,” Phillip stated. “Scribbled, Tone, Brush, and Pristine all worked in his gallery.” “Silvertongue?” Twilight asked. “As in Charlie August Silvertongue, the art historian?” Daring snorted. “You haven’t been here long, have you?” “I’ve lived here for almost a year now,” Twilight huffed in reply. “Daring,” Phillip cut her off firmly before turning to Twilight. “Charlie Silvertongue is the richest pony in this city. Art historian, gallery owner, philanthropist. He’s also the biggest criminal in this region.” “A statement that has, unfortunately, never been proven in the court of law,” Suunkii grumbled. Phillip spread out crime scene photographs across the table (Twilight cringed, her hoof involuntarily twitching as she struggled to suppress the urge to put them back in the proper order) and started studying them carefully. “I’m gonna need copies of these,” he said. Twilight and Suunkii both raised an eyebrow at him, prompting a sigh. “Please,” he grumbled. “Of course you will,” Suunkii sighed with a roll of his eyes. Phillip traced a hoof over the photographs that showed the victims’ bodies. Their pale faces stared back at him from the film: they seemed horribly, nauseatingly fake in the pictures, like mannequins, with no life in them whatsoever. Daring glanced down at the image of a bespectacled unicorn stallion hanging from a ceiling rafter, his once-yellow face marred with pale blue and white splotches. She shuddered and looked away. “What’s wrong?” Twilight asked. “Nothing,” Daring grunted. “We’re going to need to take a closer look at these crime scenes,” Phillip said, taking the files over to a photocopier in the corner. He swept the photographs over the crystal screen. The machine hummed and began to spit out copies of the pictures onto the tray. He gathered them up and tucked them into his vest. “I’ll let you know if I need anything else,” Phillip said to Twilight and Suunkii. “I hope you find something helpful,” Twilight said, offering her hoof to shake. He shook it firmly, then Dr. Suunkii’s. Twilight offered her right hoof to Daring, who hesitated for a moment, then raised her left hoof in reply, preferring to hide the brand. Twilight deftly switched hooves and shook hers. “Good luck,” Twilight smiled. “Thanks,” Daring said slowly. “C’mon,” Phillip called to Daring from the door. Daring turned and followed him out, closing the door behind them. “They are just perfect for each other, are they not?” Suunkii muttered, turning back to the notebook. Twilight gathered up the scattered case notes and photographs in her magic and began to neatly sort them back into their proper folders. “Yes, I think they are,” she said with a small, completely unironic smile. Their first stop was Pristine Touch’s apartment. Thirty-Seven Deco Way was a five-story glass and steel structure, roughly shaped like a crescent moon from above, located in one of the more modern districts of Ponyville. A red and white canopy stretched over the glass door. Several of the upper windows had balconies attached to them to allow the occupants access to the outside air. Phillip approached the door and tried the handle, but it refused to budge. “Locked,” he grunted. Daring spotted a panel next to the door. Several buttons were placed on the panel, each with a name written next to it; she noticed one that was labeled “Pristine Touch.” A speaker was set at the top of the panel, next to a crystal lens. “Here,” she called to Phillip. Phillip pressed the button for the first name, and a buzzing noise came from the speaker. Daring stepped back a little. A moment later, the crystal lens began to glow. “Who are you?” a gruff voice came from the speaker. “I’m a private detective,” Phillip replied, looking into the lens. “I need you to let me in.” The voice scoffed. “Look, bud, I don’t know you from Apples. These are private properties. Either show me a badge or scram.” And with a click, the resident signed off. Scowling, Phillip reached for the next button, but Daring reached out and stopped him. “That’s not going to get us anywhere,” she said. “Let me handle this.” His eyebrows knitted in a display of offense, but he stepped aside. Daring studied the written labels on the panel, quickly identifying one that was fresher than all the others: Sundrop Dew. New tenants, she thought. She glanced up at a strand of her mane that was dangling in front of her face, realizing that the distinctive coloring would likely give her identity away. “I need to borrow that,” she said to Phillip, snatching his hat off his head. “Oi!” he protested, but she was already slipping the hat onto her head. Her ears fit through the holes in the brim easily. She tucked the brim down over her face, then pushed it back: appearing too shady would probably make her would-be accomplice suspicious. She took a deep breath to center herself, then pressed the button for Sundrop Dew. The speaker buzzed, then the crystal began to glow again. “Hello?” a mare’s voice asked. “Oh, hi!” Daring said with a smile, affecting a nervous demeanor. “Thank the Mother, I thought I was gonna be stuck out here. I, uh, I live in the apartment below you. I don’t think we’ve met yet.” “No, well, I just recently moved in,” Sundrop replied. Daring fought back a self-satisfied grin. “Actually, I, er,” she stammered, carefully simulating an embarrassed cringe. “I just locked my keys in my apartment, so...you think you could let me in?” “Oh, sure, no problem,” Sundrop replied. There was a click and the door unlocked. “Thanks!” Daring said with a relieved smile as the crystal lens faded out. She pushed the door open and smirked at Phillip, giving him an “after you” gesture. “Show-off,” he grumbled, snatching his hat back as he passed her. They ascended three flights of stairs and started down the hallway, their hoofsteps thudding against the wooden floor with its thin red carpeting. All of the apartment doors were on their left. They paused in front of the door labeled 3C. “It’ll be locked,” Daring said, scanning the door. She noted a small padlock emblem on the door lock. “Hmm. Basic pickproof enchantment on the locks. Let me take care of this.” She reached into an inner pocket and pulled out a wallet and a small blue gem attached to a silver bracelet chain. She affixed the gem to the lock: it stuck to the lock like a magnet and began to glow faintly. “That’ll temporarily suspend the enchantment on the lock,” she stated to Phillip, opening up the wallet and pulling aside a small false layer. Concealed within the hidden pocket was a set of small picks and tension wrenches. “Where’d you get that gem?” Phillip asked. Daring’s eyes involuntarily slid down to her right hoof, towards the brand. “Same place I learned how to lie through my teeth to sneak into an apartment building,” she said, selecting a pick and tension wrench and inserting them into the lock. She gently turned the wrench as she began to feel around with the pick, testing for the pins. “Besides, what were you going to do when you found out that this was locked?” she asked him. “Just kick the door in?” “...that’s what I usually do,” Phillip muttered. She paused in her work to give him a smirk. “You’re not very subtle, are you?” He shrugged, but his forehead creased and a small scowl crossed his face. “Don't usually need to be,” he grunted. Chuckling to herself, Daring continued picking the lock. There were five pins, and she defeated all of them in just under nineteen seconds. I’m out of practice, she thought. She pushed the door open and the two entered, closing the door behind them. The apartment was spacious, the walls painted in subdued blues and browns. A short hallway led to a large sitting room, decorated with low, squashy chairs and a clear plastic coffee table. Framed abstract art decorated the walls. A sliding glass door led to a balcony; another hallway led to a kitchen and dining room that seemed to be barely used. Phillip pulled the copied photographs of the crime scene out of his vest and spread them out on the table. “Right. Pristine Touch was found hanging from a pipe running through the ceiling.” He nodded at a ceiling tile that had been moved aside, exposing a thick black rust-spotted iron pipe running across the ceiling. “If we’re operating under the assumption that somepony came in and killed him, first we need to answer the obvious question: how did they get in, and how did they get out?” Daring slowly turned in a circle, taking in the entire room, then scanned the crime scene photographs, being careful to avoid the sight of the hanging corpse. Her trained instincts kicked in, identifying potential places of entry and exit, noting blind spots and places to hide or take cover. “Front door?” Phillip asked, thinking out loud. “No,” Daring replied. “Chained from the inside. The cops had to cut it open to get in. And I saw some of the reports. The neighbors were both awake around the time of death and they didn’t hear anyone pass by all evening.” “Balcony?” Phillip wondered. “Magic-tempered burglar-proof glass,” Daring reported, glancing up. “It can only be opened from the inside. Same for the windows. The killer didn’t get in through there.” “Teleportation?” Phillip queried. Daring scoffed. “A modern building like this will have anti-teleportation wards in the walls.” “Then how?” Phillip muttered, looking around. “There’s no other way.” Daring’s eyes panned across the room. A faint breeze crossed her face and she looked up. An air vent was set in the wall above them. “Up there,” she said, pointing. Phillip looked up and studied the vent. “Look at the dust around it. It’s been disturbed. That vent cover’s been removed.” Daring flapped up with her wings and leveled with the vent, plucking a folding pocketknife from her a pocket and flicking open the screwdriver. She unscrewed the vent cover and removed it, handing it down to Phillip, who set it gently on the floor. Daring took a small penlight out of her pocket and swept the vent with it. “What do you see?” Phillip asked. “Lot of dust,” Daring answered. “Wait, there’s something here.” “Use these,” Phillip said, taking two items out of his vest: a set of tweezers and a small plastic bag. She took them and used the tweezers to gently extract the item that had caught her attention, placing it into the bag. She floated down and showed the clue to Phillip. Inside the bag was a small teardrop-shaped flower petal, barely amounting to a sliver. It was a vibrant purple color with a small accent of blue at the tip. “That doesn’t belong in there,” Phillip muttered. “I recognize that petal,” Daring said. “It’s a shrinking violet. If you breathe in the pollen, you temporarily shrink. Small enough to fit inside that vent.” “Our killer used it to enter and exit via the vent,” Phillip stated. “And since they had to remove the vent and replace it later, we’re most likely dealing with a unicorn. They used their magic for that.” He tucked the bag into his vest and started to look around. “Now, how did he kill Pristine Touch?” “He strangled him and hung him, right?” Daring said. Phillip shook his head. “Not strangled. Hanged. There are differences between the two.” He thought for a moment, then walked off. “What was he doing before he died?” He looked into the kitchen, studying the plates and cutlery sitting in the sink. “Dinner plates. He’d already eaten.” He moved past the kitchen, with Daring following. Pausing at a partially open door, Phillip looked inside. Behind the door was a lush bedroom, with a double bed covered in pale blue and purple sheets, all of which were tangled at the bottom of the mattress. A large set of windows was set over the bed, the light blocked out by a set of curtains. A well-stocked bookshelf stood against the far wall; a desk sat next to it, the cushioned chair facing the wall. Phillip glanced down and noticed the open paperback novel laying on the floor next to the chair, which was pulled out a short distance from the desk. “This was where he was ambushed,” he said. “No sign of struggle. He was reading when the killer came in.” “And that’s where the sheet came from,” Daring nodded towards the bed. Phillip scanned the room from the doorway, his eyes taking in every inch of the bedroom before entering. He walked over to the desk and paused in front of the desk, crouching down to study it. “Dust here,” he muttered. “And that’s unusual?” Daring asked from the doorway. “When it’s the only dust on the table, yes,” Phillip replied. He took out a small paper bag and brush and swept the faint yellow-white dust into the bag. “Should have Twilight and Suunkii take a look at this, and we need to visit the other crime scenes, too.” “You’re the detective,” Daring shrugged. “Given time, you will be, too,” Phillip replied, taking another slow sweep around the room. Daring raised an eyebrow at him. “You sure about that?” He paused in his search to look back at her. “Yes, I am.” He looked back down and continued his search, and thus missed the small touch of red that briefly crossed Daring’s face. “Nothing else here,” Phillip grunted, pushing past Daring to exit. He walked over to the table and scooped up the crime scene photographs. “Let’s go to the other scenes and see if the cops missed anything.” Daring grinned. Phillip saw the motion out of the corner of his eye. “Daring, no—” It was too late. Daring pushed open the balcony door and in one smooth motion, seized Phillip underneath his forelegs and flew out the door. His shout of protest mixed with her laughter as they flew off to the next scene.