Date: 26th of Harvest, Year 30 LRC
Location: Baltimare City Docks, The Celestial Empire
Time: 08:00
A light rain fell gently upon the city of Baltimare; the remnants of a passing storm which had shrouded the city for the last day or so. Though far lighter than the downpour which had preceded it, a continuous veil of water still partially obscured the massive salvage barge drifting just offshore. A small army of ponies struggled atop the ship; the majority slipping and colliding with one another as they slid across the rain-slicked deck. A fuming mass of sailors and soldiers, they worked their way slowly through a towering pile of wreckage; their dark coats and constant motion giving the appearance of an angry anthill.
From where he stood at the edge of the docks, a grey-colored pony watched the activity on the water silently; his silver eyes unblinking against the rain and wind which whipped about his form. The stallion's black and white mane was cut close to his head, barely swaying despite the heavy breeze. A khaki-colored coat hung across his back, carefully positioned to hide the majority of his body from view.
Nearby, a small group of ponies stood anxiously next to one another; whispering quietly amongst themselves as they threw the stallion suspicious glances. In contrast to the object of their attention, the four chatting ponies wore dark-blue colored rain cloaks, with matching peaked caps pressed tight upon their heads.
"Farda? Hey! Farda! Is that really you?"
The group of ponies jumped at the sudden shout from behind them; one stallion losing his cap to a particularly strong gust of wind. Ignoring their comrade as he chased after his rolling head-cover, the other three ponies snapped to attention as the source of the sudden greeting approached them.
Without the slightest sign of surprise, the grey stallion turned calmly to face the new arrival. Though his eyes narrowed suspiciously, the corners of his lips curled into the smallest semblance of a smile as he turned to wave at the rapidly approaching orange unicorn.
The bright pony in question stood a head taller than any of those who saluted him as he passed; and it was clear even beneath his cloak that his larger size was not limited only to height. He wore the same style of clothing as the group who now stared uncomprehendingly over his shoulder, but unlike them, the cap which held back his dark-red mane was decorated with the golden image of a rising sun across its brim.
"I'll be damned! It is you! How the hell are you doing, you son-of-a bitch?"
"CD." the stallion named Farda greeted, extending a hoof to accept the one offered by the orange pony. "It's been a while."
"I'll say! I thought you had retired."
"No." the other pony responded, giving a brisk shake of his head. "It was a leave of absence, nothing more. I had some... things... I needed to work out."
"I heard about what happened to Colo...” the red-maned stallion replied, his smile softening as he placed a hoof on the other pony’s shoulder. “If I’m being honest, I’m more than a little shocked to see you back.”
“The commissioner personally requested me for this. Otherwise, you better believe I wouldn’t be here.”
“Are you sure you’re ok?”
“It was never about whether I was ok or not.” Farda grunted, brushing passed the other stallion as he made his way along the dock.
The unicorn stood silently, a momentary look of shock on his face; but he quickly shook his head in resignation before moving to keep pace with his grey companion. A quick motion from him was all it took for the small band of other ponies to fall in line behind them.
“I just wanted to remember her in my own way, Crackdown.” the other stallion continued, his eyes fixed on the path before him. “And I couldn’t do that in the department.”
“I see…” the larger stallion responded, his voice lowering in tone so as not to be overheard.
As the pair made their way along the harbor’s edge, they passed the remnants of several destroyed warehouses; skeletons of charred and shattered stone serving as the only hints to what they had been before. Just as was the case with the barge, groups of soldiers made their way through the rubble; segments of golden armor visible beneath the dark cloaks worn to keep away the rain. Further along, a large tent came into view, it’s thick white canvas stretching from the very edge of the docks to the buildings sitting across the stone-lined street.
“You know…” Crackdown continued, his eyes narrowing as he watched ponies quickly make their way into and out of the tent. “We found the perp.
“It was barely a week after you left. The bastard was found hanging from the side of a fucking building. We probably would have called it a suicide, were it not for the fact that half of his damn body was missing.”
The unicorn studied his companion closely as he spoke, though his words did not seem to have even the slightest impact on the grey stallion. The pony’s silver eyes continued to stare unblinking into the falling rain, the curl of his lips not flickering for even a moment, despite the graphic detail.
“Battery was one of the first on the scene.” The unicorn resumed, nodding over his shoulder towards one of the figures following them: a purple-coated mare, struggling to keep her cap on over the tip of her unicorn horn. “She’d been sent to follow up on a lead.
“Not the prettiest way to start off your first day on the force. She said the room was like a damn butcher shop. By the time I got there, the poor rookie looked about ready to faint. Can’t really say that I blame her.”
“We live in a bloody world, CD.” Farda responded indifferently, not even turning to look as his companion raised a suspicious eyebrow. “Newbie or not, it’s better she recognizes that fact now, before it’s too late.”
“Maybe so. But fuck! I know what the bastard did to Colo. Even so… This? This was something else entirely.”
“Blood and death, Crackdown. That’s the world we live in. Don’t waste your time trying to make sense of it.”
“I think we both know that’s not what I’m doing, Farda.” the unicorn growled, the smallest hint of anger creeping into his voice. “I’m just marveling at the coincidence. We barely had a chance to clean out your office before this fucker turned up again. Hell! If you hadn’t left the department, we probably would have caught the son-of-a-bitch BEFORE he was killed.”
“Now isn’t that a depressing thought.”
“By Celestia!” Crackdown snapped, quickly lowering his voice as he glanced over his shoulder towards the ponies following behind them. “I know that he was a monster! But that doesn’t mean we can overlook something even more horrific! That’s not how the world fucking works!”
“Yes…” Farda responded. The grey stallion’s face was devoid of any and all emotion as he spoke. Were it not for the slight movement of his close-cropped mane, one might have been easily mistaken him for a statue. “… that is exactly how this world works.
“Here, ponies with even the smallest ounce of kindness are nothing more than prey. Monsters like him will devour them without even a second thought, and soon those monsters are killed in turn. There is only one constant in this world Crackdown. In the end, everything dies!”
“What the hell happened to you, Farda?” the unicorn muttered in disbelief. “You can’t really believe what happened is right, can you?”
“What I believe doesn’t matter. This is reality. And no amount of belief is able to change it. So as I told you before, don’t waste time trying to make sense of this.”
“I’m not wasting my time.”
“Did you find even a single clue at this ‘butcher shop’ you mentioned?” Farda asked, his icy tone an easy match for the heat of the unicorn’s angry gaze.
“We both know the answer to that.”
“In that case…” the grey stallion chuckled, his tone flat and lacking any real humor. “I won’t bother giving my advice a third time.”
Without another word, Farda turned and quickly covered the remainder of the distance to the tent. Crackdown followed close behind, leaving their conversation to die as they approached the gold-armored soldier standing at the entrance of the white tarp.
“Halt!” the armored pony called out as the pair drew near, lowering his lance towards them. “This area is restricted!”
“Detective Farda.” the grey stallion responded, raising his coat flap to reveal a shimmering gold badge to the soldier. “BCPD. And this is captain Crackdown.”
He motioned nonchalantly to the orange unicorn beside him, seeming to pay no attention to the spear tip held just in front of his snout.
“We’re here on department business.”
“This is a military matter.” The soldier stated aggressively, shooting Crackdown an angry glare as the unicorn snorted insultingly.
“Come on,” the police captain sneered as he pointed back towards the destroyed buildings in the distance. “Don’t give me that bullshit!
“Those warehouses which you boys let burn down? Now, that’s a military matter. The assassination on your base two days ago? That one is all yours my friend. But these docks? They’re public property, and they fall under OUR jurisdiction. In other words, THIS is a POLICE matter. And that means YOU can kindly fuck off!”
The soldier’s face contorted into a furious snarl, but he froze at the sudden sound of a voice coming from inside the tent.
“Let them through, private. Now!”
Trembling with rage, the soldier stepped to the side, glaring daggers at the pair of ponies as they passed beneath the white tarp and into the tent beyond.
A barrier had been set up around the perimeter of the tent, which meant that the stone street it covered was bone-dry, despite the rain continuing to fall outside. The tent itself was larger than it appeared from the direction they had come, covering at least three-hundred square meters of roadway and several branching alleys. The interior of the tarp was a chaotic scene, with soldiers making up most of the ponies present; easily discernable by their golden armor and general lack of any knowledge on how to maintain a clean crime-scene.
Asides from the armored majority, a few other ponies could be seen making their way through the bustling crowds. These wore uniforms of pure white, the only other color coming from the badges on their chests: the image of a golden sun, flanked on the right by a glistening silver sickle, and on the left by the image of an emerald flask.
The unmistakable emblem of the Celestial Inquisitors.
These white-coated figures were given a wide berth by the soldiers who worked around them; some ponies going so far as to walk around the entire perimeter of the tent rather than take a path that might risk them passing in front of one of the inquisitors. The result was a sea of shifting golden bodies, parting into small pockets of calm surrounding any pony dressed in white.
“Well shit…” Farda heard Crackdown mutter under his breath. “I knew the military was sticking its nose in here. But I didn’t think we’d be seeing Ghosts show up. What in Celestia’s name is going on?”
“Careful…” the grey stallion warned, indicating with his head as he spotted an earth pony motioning to them from the side of the tent. “Don’t let them hear you using HER name like that. These ghosts will do far more than just frighten your kids, Crackdown.”
As the two stallions made their way across the interior of the tent, Farda’s cool gaze focused on the three ponies who seemed to be waiting for them. The first, the stallion who had signaled to them, Farda knew very well indeed.
A large earth pony standing even taller than Crackdown, Ivory Law had been the commissioner of the Baltimare Police Department for the last twenty years. An older stallion, his formerly yellow mane had now greyed to the point where it nearly matched his snow-white coat. However, his age was belied somewhat by the massive muscles which rippled with every movement he made. The seafoam colored eyes which studied the new arrivals were stern, and he held himself with a bearing of confidence one could only gain through decades of putting their life on the line almost daily.
The other two were inquisitors; easily identified by their spotless white uniforms, golden emblems, and a general air of obnoxious superiority.
The commissioner was one thing. He might be a hard son-of-a-bitch, but his confidence had been well earned. As far as the other two ponies were concerned, before he even reached the small group, Farda had already come to the conclusion that he hated them.
“Hello captain.” Commissioner Law greeted as the new arrivals drew close. “I see you’ve met up with Farda already.”
“We passed each other on the way here. I hope you don’t mind my tagging along.”
“No, I wanted to discuss this case with you anyways. And you detective…” Ivory Law continued, extending a hoof to Farda. “I want to thank you again for agreeing to come."
"Of course, commissioner." the grey stallion responded, accepting the greeting with a smile. However, the grin evaporated as he eyed the other ponies in their company suspiciously. “Though you failed to mention that this would be a joint investigation.”
"Ah, yes." the white pony grunted as he followed the other stallion's gaze. “New developments have caused the situation to change.
"Allow me to introduce colonel Castor." the commissioner announced, indicating the first of the two stallions; a yellow unicorn possessing a mane of black and orange hair. "Of her majesty's Imperial Inquisition Forces."
"Detective," the yellow unicorn greeted coldly. Though he smiled at both Farda and Crackdown as he spoke, the gleam in his crimson eyes betrayed any illusion of genuine congeniality.
"The commissioner has told us about your exemplary record. I look forward to judging for myself whether he was exaggerating or not."
Unlike Ivory Law, the soldier did not move to extend a hoof; preferring instead to simply nod. The lack of courtesy, both in gesture and in word, was not lost on Farda. But rather than take offense, he instead chose to use the opportunity to study the inquisitor. He watched as the other pony readjusted his cap slightly, shifting a lock of black hair away from his face. The movement helped to draw attention to the fact that the colonel's horn, extending like a miniature spear from beneath the brim of his white cap, appeared both longer and sharper than was normal for a unicorn. For his part, the detective had a hard time figuring out if that particular characteristic was intimidating, or just plain weird.
Allowing his investigation to progress onward, Farda was quick to note that the colonel’s uniform was clean. Almost painfully so. It wasn’t that the jacket he wore was lacking any-and-all color. On the contrary, his chest was adorned with fifteen different medals, the significance of many which the detective could only begin to guess at. And of course, like the other inquisitors who floated through the tent like restless spirits, the colonel wore the golden insignia of their organization. But it was the sight of filth, or specifically the lack thereof, that truly drew the grey-stallion’s attention. Despite the clouds of dust and dried mud kicked-up within the confined space of the tent, not the smallest speck of grime had seen-fit to land upon the unicorn’s ivory-colored cloth.
Not even dirt was willing to touch the soldier? Now, there was a good sign.
Horns and dirt aside; perhaps the most damning detail, at least where Farda was concerned, was the attitude with which the inquisitor held himself. The colonel stood shorter than the commissioner, Crackdown, or even Farda. Yet somehow, despite this fact, the uniformed stallion still managed to look down his nose at all three of them. It was a rather impressive feat, and the detective was grateful for having an easy target to despise. It was not as though he needed yet another excuse to dislike the colonel; but when searching for reasons to hate a pony on a truly personal level, Farda did at least appreciate having options.
“And this,” the commissioner continued, interrupting the detective’s thoughts as he drew attention to the second inquisitor. “Is major Brazen Bull.”
Farda had spent most of his working life putting criminals behind bars. As a member of the Baltimare Police department, he had seen his fair share of kidnappers, rapists, and murderers. Some were worse than others, but there were always those who made any other criminals look like foals playing guards and thieves. Those serial offenders who’s only goal was to hurt, to kill, to prove to themselves that they were superior to anypony else. To confirm for their benefit alone, that they held the power of life and death over anypony whom they wished. Such monsters were, thankfully, few and far between; but they were the stories used to scare greenhorns during their first few days on the force. The true monsters who kept veterans awake at night, wondering how in the hell anypony could turn out so wrong.
A simple glance was all it took for Farda to be convinced that, as of this moment, most of the nightmares he had carried until now had just been replaced.
This was what a REAL monster looked like.
The major was a large earth pony. While not quite as tall as Crackdown or the commissioner, he was still bigger than either his companion or Farda. His coat was dark tan in color, with a plain brown mane and hazel colored eyes. Aside from his above average size, for most ponies, the major would likely not appear to be anything outside of the ordinary. But up close, small hints were enough for Farda to paint a picture that sent shivers down his spine.
It was the soldier’s expression, more than anything else, that betrayed his inner workings. His mouth was set in a thin line that could only ever be considered a smile if one were being VERY generous. A slight crinkle at the corner of his eyes, mixed with a stare which held nothing but disgust for whatever pony he was looking at, gave the clear picture of a stallion who was absolute in his feelings of superiority. It was not the first time Farda had met such a gaze; had seen those eyes in ponies who just KNEW that everypony else were nothing more than tools meant for their amusement. In other words, maniacs.
However, while such feelings were bad enough when found in your average serial killer… if there ever was such a thing… THIS one had been given a uniform. A crazy-pony given a position of power, and carte blanche to do whatever he wanted so long as it could be argued as being ‘in the service of the empire.’
‘Monster,’ did not come even close to describing such a creature.
Forcing the shiver from his spine, it took every last ounce of willpower for Farda to smile as he looked from one inquisitor to the next.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you gentlemen.”
“Colonel Castor has taken command of all investigations concerning the attack from two days ago.” Commissioner law explained. The stallion’s voice was easy; but the slight tic at the corner of his mouth, combined with a twitch of his ears, told Farda that the old pony was anything but calm.
Not that he could really be blamed. It had been barely a minute since he arrived, and already Farda wanted to buck the inquisitors right in their self-assured grins.
“With that being said,” Ivory Law continued. “They have requested our assistance in this matter. And I have of course assured them that they will have the full cooperation of our department."
“Fuck me…” Farda heard Crackdown mutter, the stallion’s words causing the commissioner’s ears to shift yet again. Whether it was out of annoyance or fear, the detective had a hard time deciphering.
“Full cooperation, captain!” the older pony repeated, his tail twitching as he glared at the orange unicorn. “That’s an order!”
Fear it was, then.
“As always, we’ll be honored to serve the empire.” Farda confirmed, working carefully to draw the attention of the inquisitors away from the other two ponies. “With that being the case, can I ask what we know about what happened here? And why the IIF feels the need to cooperate with us? I know there was an explosion two nights ago, but the papers have been strangely silent; especially considering the fact that everypony in Baltimare likely heard the blast.”
“Of course, detective.” The colonel responded, his crimson eyes glinting as he displayed another fake smile. “Unfortunately, this blast was a clear act of espionage. One likely meant to disrupt our supplies.
“As for our wish to cooperate with the BCPD, the answer for that is simple as well. You know these streets far better than we do. It all comes down to experience, and knowing the limits of what we can, and cannot, do by ourselves.”
“So you’re saying this wasn’t an accident?” Crackdown grunted, an eyebrow rising in genuine surprise.
“No. This was no accident.” The colonel explained, motioning for them to follow as he moved towards the very edge of the tent.
“We have reliable information that this was, in all likelihood, an act of aggression; perpetrated by republic spies. Whether these were enemy combatants, or some of our own citizens turned traitor, we cannot say for sure.”
Farda followed close behind the inquisitor, his stomach sinking with every word the soldier uttered.
The white-uniformed stallion was lying. That much was obvious to anypony with half a brain. But it was not the colonel’s words which made the detective so uneasy. Rather, it was how he said them.
Farda prided himself on being able to read other ponies. It was a skill he had developed as a foal; and one he had spent decades refining during his time on the BCPD. It had allowed him to find leads where most ponies couldn’t. It let him know the right buttons to press during interrogations to get a confession, intended or otherwise. And perhaps most importantly of all, it had always allowed him to know when he was being lied to.
The problem was, as far as the colonel appeared to be concerned, Farda’s skills seemed to amount to nothing. The unicorn was lying to them. Blatantly! Not even trying to come up with a believable excuse for why he wanted to bring the police into the investigation. And yet, no matter how egregious the lie, Farda could not find a deviation in how the inquisitor moved or spoke. For all the detective could be sure, colonel Castor might as well have been saying that he thought the sky was blue.
Immediately Farda began to recalculate his initial assessment of the soldier. The stallion was most certainly an asshole worthy of his disdain. Of that, the detective had no doubt. But while the major had the hallmarks of a violent maniac; this colonel was a monster the likes of which Farda had never faced before.
And THAT was terrifying in its own right.
"Now detective," the colonel announced as the group of four ponies reached the edge of the tent. "... and captain. I give you the remains of our sole witness of this unfortunate event."
The detective forced himself to momentarily put aside his contempt for the inquisitor, focusing instead on the scene that lay before them.
A ramp leading into the bay had been roped off, apparently to keep the scene as untouched as possible. About half-way down the sloping stone, a dark brown stain spread out over the grey surface; running down the length of the incline to where it met the water of the bay.
Without even asking for permission, Farda quickly ducked under the rope barrier as he began to study the scene.
“Your men already removed the body?” Crackdown asked incredulously, staring at the dark stain as the detective moved carefully around the edge of the ramp.
“No captain.” The colonel responded, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he considered the larger unicorn. “By the time we got here, there WAS no body.”
“Whatever pony was here,” Farda interrupted, making sure he had regained the colonel’s attention before continuing on. “They lost a lot of blood. And that’s not counting how much they must have bled before making their way out of the water?”
“You’re sure they were coming OUT, detective?”
“The drag marks are wrong for any other scenario. So yes, I’m sure SHE was.”
“She?” the colonel inquired, an eyebrow flickering briefly in what might have been his first and only genuine demonstration of any type of emotion since Farda had arrived.
“She!” the detective confirmed, slowly moving around the dried blood stain. “This hoofprint is most likely female. I can confirm if you want, but that will require me messing with the scene a bit.”
“I see,” the colonel replied, his face returning to its classic neutral expression. However, there was a strange glint in his eyes as he considered the detective; one which made the other stallion’s mane stand on end. “We will likely take you up on your offer. But first, I would like for you to tell us what you can see with the crime scene as it is now.”
“Can do.” Farda agreed, not bothering to look at the inquisitor as he spoke. “Though, I’m guessing your men have been over this a hundred times already. I’m not sure there’s much I can add you won’t have picked up.”
“We’ve looked it over.” The colonel confirmed, a small note of amusement in his voice causing the detective’s stomach to clench. “But that does not mean we aren’t open to second opinions.
“Besides, the commissioner has assured us that we have never worked with a pony of your particular talents before.”
“I appreciate the compliment. I just hope I can live up to your expectations.”
“As do I, detective.”
Backing away from the rust-colored stain, Farda made his way around the edge of the ramp a second time. The stallion’s silver eyes danced over the scene, their movement saccadic as his gaze shifted from one piece of stone pavement to the next. Several times he stopped his pacing, kneeling down on his fore-limbs to get a closer look at the ground.
“Like I said,” the pony mused aloud, his eyes continuing to glance over the scene as he spoke. “The victim was very likely female; and judging from the width of drag marks, I’d wager she was either an earth pony or unicorn.
“A few pieces of hair I can spot suggest that her mane was probably pink. Though it might be a very light red. Hard to say for sure without a scope.”
“We already know that.” The major snorted, shaking his head impatiently as he glanced over at the colonel. “We’re wasting time here, sir.”
“So, I take it you already know about her broken legs as well?”
The brown earth pony snapped to face the detective, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. For his part, Farda kept his back to the soldier so as not to let his grin be too obvious.
“How can you possibly know she has that type of injury?”
“I can’t.” the detective admitted, walking over once again to the dried pool of blood. “All I’m doing is making educated guesses.”
The major looked as though he were about to say something. Or maybe kill him. Farda couldn’t quite tell which. Fortunately, the colonel seemed to have different plans. The yellow unicorn crossed under the rope barrier, and quickly made his way towards the detective.
“You have my attention.” The soldier stated simply, his lips curling into a snake-like grin. “Please, do go on.”
“If you look here,” Farda explained, pointing to a slight indentation in the caked blood. “The distribution of the weight implies that she was only using her forelimbs to climb up the ramp. Meanwhile here, you can see the drag marks of hindlimbs. But there are no scrapes of hoof marks towards the back. That means she did not bother trying to stand on her back hooves. Or more likely, she couldn’t.”
“Would exhaustion not give a similar result?”
“Possible, but unlikely. I’ve met very few ponies who would tell you that it’s easier to crawl on just two limbs, regardless of how tired they are. Besides, if you look here…”
The detective pointed to a streak of dried blood. Initially, it appeared to be a drag mark of no clear significance. At least, until the detective knelt down beside it and extended his hind-limb. As he did, it soon became clear that the mark was, in-fact, an outline; formed by blood which had pooled beneath an unmoving leg.
“This is from her hock.” the detective continued, painting with his hoof along the edge of the mark. “And here you can see that the tibia is clearly snapped. The leg looks like it’s almost at a twenty… maybe thirty-degree angle. So, I’m confident enough to confirm that she has at the very least one, but more likely, two broken hindlimbs. And then of course there’s the crystal pony helping her to…”
“What?” the colonel snapped, the sudden outburst causing Farda to raise a surprised eyebrow.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did your men miss that too?”
The colonel glared at the detective, his eyes narrowing dangerously. Almost immediately the grey pony felt his blood run cold.
That last jab had probably been one too many.
“I already said you have my attention, detective.” the yellow officer warned, his voice low and threatening. “I believe it would be in your best interest that you not allow it to become the wrong type. After all, your family tree is not exactly what I would describe as pure. Is it?”
Farda was not used to interacting with a pony who could make him feel equal parts disgust, anger, and fear. Almost on instinct, the detective pulled one of his coat sleeves down to better hide the dark colored stripes climbing the length of his forelimb.
“Point made, colonel.” The detective murmured, gritting his teeth in an attempt to distract himself from the overwhelming urge to buck the inquisitor. “But I’ll have you know my family has had nothing to do with me for a very long time.”
“I am well aware.” The colonel continued, a harsh grin slowly forming at the corners of his mouth. “But I don't really care about their relationship with you, detective. Our nation has just suffered an act of espionage, and anyone who is not a natural-born citizen will of course be under increased suspicion. Therefore, I simply want to warn you before your family members finds themselves caught up in one of our investigations.”
“I do believe we were scheduled to pick up a zebra later today.” Brazen Bull spoke up, smiling wickedly as he stared from the other side of the rope. “We heard some rumors of a little-old mare harboring a group of dissidents we’ve been tracking for some time. If I’m not mistaken, she lives on the other side of Foal’s Point. You wouldn’t know anything about that now, would you, half-breed?”
“Hey!” Crackdown shouted, but stopped immediately as the commissioner shoved him hard in the gut.
“No need to be rude, major.” Colonel Castor laughed, though it was devoid of any true emotion. “After all, the detective is a faithful citizen of our dear empire. So long as he continues to serve to the best of his abilities, I see no reason why we can’t extend common courtesy to him… and his family.”
Farda glanced over at Ivory Law, his stomach dropping as he watched the earth pony refuse to meet his gaze.
So, it had been a set-up from the very beginning. And whatever it was the inquisitors were looking for, somehow they had dragged the commissioner into it.
“Now that we understand each other.” the colonel continued, his red eyes seeming to glow with an inner hellish light. “Please, continue detective. I believe you had mentioned something about a crystal pony?”