//------------------------------// // Case Four, Chapter Four: The Flames Grow Cooler // Story: Ponyville Noire: Tails of Two Private Eyes // by PonyJosiah13 //------------------------------// The cruiser stopped at the back of the precinct. From above, Phillip and Daring observed as Coal Dust was extracted from the backseat of the cruiser and marched by the two officers through a set of doors which led into the booking room where new arrestees were taken. “Go in through front,” Phillip instructed. “We can talk to Trace if he's here.” Daring nodded and landed in front of the revolving doors at the front of the precinct. The letters that spelled out “PONYVILLE POLICE DEPARTMENT” over the door were still as rusted and faded as they ever were, and the door squeaked as they pushed through it. The front lobby inside was still stuffy, the black and white tile floor unmopped and the fan in the ceiling still creaking slowly. A few ponies sat on the uncomfortable benches, waiting to be seen by somepony. The desk sergeant sat on the elevated chair behind the desk in the back, flipping through a gun magazine. Ignoring the desk sergeant, Phillip and Daring proceeded through the door in the back to the offices. They started down a hallway that was much cleaner and brighter than the room behind it, walking past several closed office doors. But as they passed one door, it opened and an orange pegasus with lightning blue hair stepped out, wiping his mane. Flash looked up and spotted the two detectives, his eyes widening when he saw Phillip. “What happened to you?” he asked. “Had a disagreement with some security guards,” Phillip said, hissing in a breath and reaching a hoof up towards his ribs. “I’m fine.” “You need to see Twilight,” Flash said, instinctively moving to Phillip’s side to support him and helping him walk down towards the end of the hallway. “We were going to, and I can walk,” Phillip grumbled, allowing Flash to take some of his weight nonetheless. Daring rolled her eyes and followed. They reached the door at the end of the hallway, which Flash pushed open with a shoulder. The trio descended down a flight of stairs, following the lure of classical music playing in the distance. After a few more feet, they reached the forensic laboratory. Doctor Suunkii was standing at a microscope, peering at a slide of trace evidence; Twilight Sparkle was walking towards him, carrying a tray of test tubes filled with liquid in her magic. When she saw Phillip, she gasped in shock and nearly dropped the tray. “What happened?!” she demanded, immediately walking over to Phillip and lighting up her horn, casting a medical diagnosis spell over him to scan for injuries. Doctor Suunkii took one look at Phillip’s face, then walked over to another table and pulled out a collection of potion-making equipment, mixing several liquids together into a single bowl. Daring and Phillip told their audience the story of the fires as Twilight cast a healing spell over Phillip, repairing his broken ribs and nose and healing his split lip. “Those...those jerks! Those meanies!” Twilight spat when their story was complete, her horn sparking in anger. Daring Do raised an eyebrow at her. “‘Meanies?’” Twilight squeaked and raised her hooves to her mouth. “I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to curse!” "You okay now?" Flash asked Phillip. "Yeah," Phillip nodded. "Thank you." "You're really good at magic, Twilight," Flash commented. "And, uh...you look nice today," he blurted out. Twilight froze for a moment, her cheeks coloring. "Huh? Oh. Uh. Thank you." She turned back to some paperwork on one of the tables. Flash cringed a little, his posture deflating slightly. Daring caught Phillip's eye and smirked. Suunkii carried over a bowl with a light green salve in it and began to gently dab it on Phillip’s face. “This will help remove the pepper spray without activating the oleoresin capsaicin,” he explained as he did so. Phillip let out a relieved sigh. “That feels much better. Thank you, Suun.” “What can we do?” Flash asked, returning himself to seriousness. “Start with this,” Phillip said, nodding to Daring. Daring extracted the burnt wood and ashes from her shirt and handed them to Suunkii. “We got those from the site of the last fire at the housing project,” Daring explained as the zebra examined them. “Night Waltz said that it took the firefighters five hours to fight that fire down.” “Five hours is an unusually long time, and it is even more unusual for a simple two-story house under construction to burn that long,” Suunkii commented, frowning at the burnt wood fragment. “Unfortunately, arson is not a point of study that has been given sufficient attention, so there is little that we know for certain. However, I can state that these burn patterns are not like any I have ever seen.” “We should just start with some preliminary observations and tests,” Twilight stated, scooping some of the ashes into a small plastic dish. “We’ll also have to compare it to evidence from the fire at the Duskwind’s house. We might have some results for you later.” “Thanks,” Phillip nodded. He and Daring turned to go. “Wait!” Flash called after them. “What can I do to help?” Phillip paused and looked back at him, his lips thinning in thought. “I want to help!” Flash protested, looking rather like a young colt trying to impress a parent. “I can—” “Sentry, there you are,” a voice called from behind them. The group looked up to see Sergeant Prowl striding down the stairs, shaking her white-blonde mane out of her eyes. “Ma’am,” Sentry said, snapping to attention. Prowl afforded Phillip and Daring a respectful nod, which both of them returned. “What were you doing down here?” Prowl asked. “I, uh…” Flash muttered, his ears folding back slightly as he glanced back towards the door to the crime lab. “I was...bringing some documents down for Miss Sparkle!” He chuckled nervously. “I hope he never plays poker,” Daring whispered into Phillip’s ear. Phillip’s lips twitched upwards momentarily. Prowl’s frown deepened slightly. “You can pursue your romantic endeavors when you’re off the clock, Sentry,” she lectured him. Flash managed to simultaneously blush and look relieved. “We’re needed. Somepony left a suspicious bag at the train station; the bomb squad’s been called in, and we need to help keep the crowd back. Bumblebee’s already there.” “Ma’am, it’s probably just a bag of clothes that somepony forgot,” Flash protested. “We—” “Sentry. That’s an order,” Prowl cut him off. Her tone did not change in the slightest, but her yellow eyes narrowed and she seemed to grow three inches in height, towering over the smaller pegasus. Flash sighed and slumped. “Yes, ma’am.” “Detectives,” Prowl dismissed herself and her junior partner with a final nod, then walked back up the stairs with Flash in tow. “Let’s check with Roger Breaker,” Phillip suggested to Daring. “Want to check the surveillance crystal footage for the fire.” “Good idea,” Daring nodded. The two started to walk up the stairs, heading towards the dispatch room. “The kid didn’t seem happy to have to leave with Prowl,” Daring commented as they started back up the hallway. Phillip nodded. “Doesn’t trust his partners. Might be right to.” “What do you think is his deal with us?” Daring asked. “He seems to go out of his way to try to hang out with us.” “Young, naive, doesn’t know who to trust or look up to,” Phillip said. “Might be looking for a hero.” Daring scoffed. “Then he’s looking in the wrong place.” She paused, then added in a quieter tone, “You sure he’s not the mole?” Phillip was silent for a few seconds, then muttered quietly, “I’ve been wrong before.” Daring did not press the issue. They reached the dispatch room and stepped inside. They were greeted once again by the barrage of noise and lights of the dispatchers. The row of telephones and radio sets was manned by a group of workers, all of them speaking over one another. The front wall was occupied by a map of Ponyville, marked with several blinking colored dots: red for surveillance crystals, blue for cruisers, and yellow for unmarked vehicles. Roger Breaker was standing at the raised dais at the back of the room, speaking to Trace Evidence. Trace scowled and said something in an undertone to Breaker, who shook his head, scratching at his messy beard. Hearing the door open, Trace looked up to see Phil and Daring and waved them over. “I’m guessing you want to see the footage from the fire at Apple Tree Way last night,” he said. “That, and the fire at the Phoenix housing project,” Phillip said. Roger Breaker frowned and adjusted his glasses. “Unfortunately, there aren’t any surveillance crystals in the housing project yet,” he explained. “The city’s paying for installment, but that’s not going to be for a while. As for the fire on Apple Way, we don’t have any views of the fire itself, but I can give you some shots of the surrounding area.” He turned to the crystals that were embedded in the wall surrounding him and started tapping them in a sequence. The crystals projected a series of moving images in front of the group, which Daring and Phillip both recognized as surrounding views of twenty-seven Apple Tree Way. Roger Breaker tapped more crystals and the images began to rapidly rewind. Shadows lengthened, then the night fell in minutes. Fire trucks drove backward up the road, then a few seconds later, sped backward the other way, their lights spinning. Roger Breaker carefully turned the crystals and the images began to play again. One of the projections, which showed the entrance to the boulevard, displayed a set of maple trees shivering in the wind; smoke from the fire slithered in between the branches. The only other views displayed the currently-empty streets on either side of the boulevard entrance. “Like I said,” Roger Breaker shrugged. “Not much help.” “Wait,” Phillip said. “Back it up a bit.” Roger obliged, reversing the image. The smoke retreated through the branches, then a scratched silver pickup truck drove backward out of the boulevard. “Stop,” Phillip instructed. Roger stopped the image, giving the ponies a good view of the pickup truck. “Truck was at the scene of the fire earlier,” Phillip said, squinting at the license plate and writing it down in his notebook. “Yeah, it was,” Daring nodded, remembering the truck that they’d stepped around. “Can’t see the driver or passenger,” Phillip muttered. “Can you get it closer?” Roger fiddled with the crystal controls and the picture zoomed in on the windshield of the truck. Unfortunately, the windows were too dark for the ponies to see anything except the vague silhouettes of the driver and passenger. “Sorry, I can’t get any better than that,” Roger shrugged. “Least we know when the fire started. Can still run the license plate,” Phillip grunted. “Yes, we’ll add that to the ever-growing list of things to do,” Trace commented dryly. He gestured with his head, asking for Phillip and Daring to join him outside. The trio stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind them. “I’m sure you know that a couple officers picked up a suspect for the fires,” Trace said. “Yeah, that’s why we’re here,” Daring confirmed. “Pony by the name of Coal Dust,” Trace commented. “He’s been picked up for a few misdemeanor charges, and we’ve always known that he’s a bit of a firebug, but he’s never caused any serious trouble: certainly nothing like this.” “So why was he brought in?” Daring asked. “And why was he roughed up so much?” Trace sighed. “Chief Tumbler called down a squad car to pick him up,” he explained. “Some ponies called in and said that he’d been seen watching that house fire while the firefighters were fighting it. He wants this wrapped up quickly; these fires in the Everfree District are not good for our image.” “I’m sure that’s what he’s worried about,” Daring scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Want to talk to him,” Phillip said. “Get to him before anypony else can.” Trace nodded. “I’ll see if I can get you in to talk to him,” he said. “What are you two thinking?” “The fires at the housing project,” Phillip said. “We think they might be connected to the fires in the Everfree District, and to a murder.” “Gold Dust, you mean. I’ve already picked it up,” Trace frowned. “The last I heard, all the house fires were supposed to be accidents: gas leaks, ponies leaving a cigarette burning, things like that.” “That might have changed,” Phillip stated. “You know anything about the fires at the housing project?” “Not much,” Trace grumbled. “Night Waltz never has been very forthcoming on details on his cases. He did mention that he suspects it’s the work of a detractor trying to sabotage the project. I also heard him saying that he couldn’t figure out how the fires started. Then again, I’m surprised he can find his way to the precinct in the morning, so that isn't too odd.” “We tried to take a look around there, but the security guards chased us off,” Phillip said. “They almost killed him!” Daring cried. Trace scowled. “Cerberus Security,” he said. “A third of their members are ex-military with dishonorable discharges. Most of the rest know how to throw a sucker punch and wear a uniform. I heard Monopoly hired them after some tools started disappearing from the site.” “If we can get some info out of Coal Dust, we might get somewhere on this,” Phillip stated. “He’s probably through booking by now,” Trace said. “Come on.” He led them through the hallways towards the back of the precinct, into the holding cells. They entered a large room with several small cells with barred doors on the walls. A desk was set up against one wall, behind which sat two police officers who were sorting through paperwork. “Where’s Coal Dust?” Trace asked. “Cell five,” one of the officers grunted without looking up. Phillip and Daring turned and spotted Coal Dust sitting by himself on a bunk in the cell behind them. He was rubbing his shoulder, staring down at the cell floor. “Open that cell door,” Trace ordered the officers. Both cops stared at him for a moment, then the one who had spoken grunted and tossed Trace a set of keys. Trace unlocked the cell door and opened it wide with a squeak, gesturing for Phillip and Daring to enter. Both ponies entered slowly. Coal Dust did not look up. “Mister Dust,” Phillip stated. “I’m Phillip Finder. This is my partner, Daring Do. We’re private detectives.” Coal Dust glanced up at them briefly, then turned away and stared at the wall. “Are you okay?” Daring asked. “We saw them taking you in.” “And didn’t help,” Coal Dust grumbled. “Look, we…” Daring winced, then sighed. “I’m sorry.” “Yeah, you’re sorry,” Coal Dust grumbled. “You’re sorry I’m in here, I’m sorry I’m still stuck in that dead-end job at the post office, the neighborhood’s sorry about that family that died. Everypony’s fucking sorry for something.” Phillip and Daring looked at one another, then Phillip turned back to Coal Dust. “You were spotted at the scene of the fire at Duskwind’s house last night.” Coal Dust shrugged. “I heard the fire engines and went over to see. I like fire.” “You weren’t there when the fire started?” Phillip asked. “No,” Coal Dust replied. “I worked my shift at the post office, then I had dinner at Sweetcream Scoop’s shop and took a trolley back to the district. I was walking home when I heard the sirens.” “That late at night?” Daring asked skeptically. “Sweetcream’s a twenty-four seven establishment, and I work the night shift,” Coal Dust explained, still not looking at them. “We’ll check on that alibi for you,” Phillip said. “If it turns out that you’re telling the truth, you have nothing to worry about.” Coal Dust grunted. “Yeah. Sure.” Phillip and Daring glanced at each other, then exited the cell. Trace closed the door behind him. The phone behind the officer’s desk rang. One of the cops picked it up and held it to his ear, then held it out to Trace. “It’s Red,” he declared. Trace grabbed the phone and held it up to his ear. He listened for a few moments, then nodded. “Yeah, we’ll be there.” He hung up, then turned to Phillip and Daring. “Red wants us to meet him at the Everfree fire station,” he said. “Burning Embers found something that he wants us to see.” “Ripper,” Phillip nodded. “Let’s go.” They started to walk back up the hallway when a side door opened and Vitae Mortis bounced through. “Oh, hey, Phillip!” she called. “I had a look at our friend earlier. You were right on the money: struck from behind by a brick and repeatedly bludgeoned. I also took a look at his briefcase. The locks on it were designed to be tamper-proof; if somepony tried a lockpicking spell on them, they’d seal shut. And guess what?” She grinned at them, expecting a reply. “You saved a bunch of money on your car insurance by switching to Eico?” Daring commented dryly. Mortis giggled and booped Daring on the nose. “No, silly. The locks’ seals had been activated! A unicorn tried to open the briefcase, and when that didn’t work, they resorted to breaking it open with brute force!” “Good to know,” Phillip nodded. “Thanks, doc.” Vitae Mortis nodded and retreated back to the morgue. The trio continued down the hallway and exited the precinct, heading into the parking lot. The sun was already dipping towards the western horizons as they crossed over to Trace’s Hayson Commander and piled in. Trace turned the ignition, and the engine responded immediately with a loud grumble. He shifted into gear and the car pulled out of the lot and started down the street towards the northeast. The Everfree precinct of the Ponyville Fire Department was a brick building that sat in between an apartment building and a factory, the two-story garage looking slightly squashed in between the larger buildings. The garage doors were open, revealing a pair of bright red fire tankers and an ambulance. The trio walked through the garage doors. “These are so cool,” Daring said admiringly, staring up at the tanker as she walked past. “They are,” Trace admitted. “I wanted to be a firefighter when I was a foal, just so I could ride around in the truck.” “Who didn’t?” Daring asked, walking past the rows of open lockers where the firefighters stored their turnout gear. Glancing down at a set of boots with a set of rolled-down pants tucked inside them, she plucked out a helmet and turned, placing it on Trace’s head. “There,” she said with a smile. “Now you can be the first firefighter detective.” Trace smiled at her and put the helmet back in the locker with his magic. “Detectives, there you are,” Burning Embers said, rounding the corner of the lockers. “Come over here, there’s something I want to show you.” He led them over to a table next to the fire pole. Upon the table, he had set up a length of gas piping that ran down the length of the table, attached via a tube to a propane tank sitting on the floor. In the center of the piping was the regulator valve that Daring had found at Apple Tree Way. To its left, connecting it to the gas piping, was an unlit Bunsen burner. To the right was a valve that was topped with a bright yellow balloon. Red Herring was waiting next to the table, tossing a cigarette lighter to himself. “I was looking at the regulator valve you found, and I discovered something,” Embers explained, picking up the regulator valve with his magic and holding it up. “You said there was a hole in it,” Daring commented. “There is,” Embers replied, pointing at the small hole drilled into the side of the valve. “But it’s not just a hole. It’s attached to a screw in the diaphragm of the valve. If it’s turned this way, the valve works normally. But if you insert a screwdriver into the hole and twist the screw…” He pulled out a small, thin screwdriver and inserted it into the hole, then with a grunt of effort, twisted it. “Watch what happens,” Embers said, inserting the valve back into position. He twisted a handle, and the gas turned on with a hiss. “Red?” Embers asked, stepping back. Red Herring stepped forward, flicking the lighter open and igniting the flame. He held it up to the Bunsen burner, which ignited with a puff. The yellow balloon began to slowly fill up. “That Bunsen burner is a gas heater, and the balloon represents gas from a heater filling up a room,” Embers explained. “Ordinarily, the regulator valve should be preventing that gas from escaping. But that screw is reversing the diaphragms inside the valve; that allows the gas to escape. All it would take is an open spark…” Red demonstrated by holding out his still-lit lighter to the balloon. As soon as the balloon touched the flame, it exploded with a loud bang, causing everypony to flinch. “So the valve was tampered with,” Phillip concluded. “That something that anypony could do?” “No,” Embers replied, shaking his head. “The only way that you could pull this off is if you knew intricately how these valves worked.” “And the fact that the service log was missing probably means that a worker was the one who did this,” Red replied. “By the way, you were right. I checked the scenes of the other fires. Some of them had a Phosphero brand heater in their house, and they all had the service log missing. I had to do some digging, but I did find the regulator valves in a couple places. They’d been tampered with, too.” “You speak to Phosphero?” Trace asked. “They stonewalled me,” Red scowled. “Told me to fuck off and come back with a subpoena. Unfortunately, Judge Gavel’s on his weekly vacation and won’t be back until tomorrow morning.” “We’ll need to speak to the surviving families, see if they had their heaters serviced before the fires,” Trace said. “And we also need to check on Coal Dust’s alibi.” “All things that we can do ourselves,” Red Herring said to Phillip and Daring. “Let the real detectives do some work, right?” “Yeah, save us a bit on the consultant fee,” Trace commented with a half-smile. Phillip actually cracked a small smile himself and raised a hoof. Trace bumped his hoof against Phillip’s. “Right. See you tossers later,” Phillip said, touching the brim of his trilby in salute. Daring mimicked the gesture and the two of them exited the station. Once they stepped outside, Phillip paused and looked at Daring. “What?” she asked, cocking her head to the side. “You’re going to do it. Just get it over with,” Phillip sighed, widening his forelegs slightly. Daring blinked at him for a few moments, then smirked. “What, you think I’m just gonna snatch you up and fly off again? Nah. You’ve had enough.” Phillip blinked. “Really?” “Really,” Daring nodded. “Aces,” Phillip said, walking forward. “See if we can get a cab—” “Psych!” Daring shouted, dashing forward and grabbing him as she swooped up into the air, laughing.