//------------------------------// // New Horseleans - II // Story: Strider // by Olakaan Peliik //------------------------------// Finding somepony who finds things is harder than it sounds. I’d dropped Jett off at Sunday School early that morning. It's better than it sounds. They hold games for the more active foals and open the library for the less active ones. Jett liked to float between the two. Since then, I’d been searching for Phillip Finder, with no luck. I asked around the station; the other Guards gave me the names of a few hotels where Phillip might be staying. I checked them all, but nopony under that name or description was staying in those places. I was heading back to the station now; it was getting close to mid-day and I was irritated. I finally got to the part of those files where my fellow investigators should have done “leg-work;” asking around, collecting statements, interrogating suspects. Finding, well, anything that could be considered actual evidence! Instead, everything was labeled ‘Autopsy Complete. Kin notified. Suicide’ or some other half-cocked excuse to call it a day and go home. No one cared about these ponies. Nopony but me. I entered SI and started to make my way down to my office. Some fellow Sergeants were standing around drinking coffee. They were all overweight and their manes were much longer than regulation. “Hey look, it's the Big Shot!” one called. “Hey, Mr. Big Shot. You gonna figure out those cold cases for us?” another joked. I smirked. “If I wanna get an arrest record even close to how many doughnuts you all eat in a day? Then yes.” I passed them and headed down the stairs. They were all silent so I guess they couldn't think of a comeback. I got to the labs and walked past the morgue. Unable to resist, I glanced inside and lo and behold, Phillip Finder was inside, standing with the mortician looking over a dead body. “You gotta be kidding me. I look all over the city for this pony and he’s right here?” I sighed. I stepped into the morgue and caught the last words of the mortician. “...weirdest things I’ve seen,” he was saying, shaking his head. “What's weird?” I asked. They both turned to look at me. The mortician looked surprised. Finder stared emotionlessly; he looked like he was studying me. “You're the new Sergeant? The one who just pulled off that huge crime takedown in Baltimare right?” the mortician asked. The mortician was a heavy set unicorn. His coat was an off-white. His mane appeared to have once been blue but had faded greatly with age. “Flame Strider. You two are?” I pretended to be ignorant. “I'm Dr. Humorous,” the mortician said. So many sarcastic jokes! “And this is—” Finder held out a hoof. “Phillip Finder. G’day.” He had a slow, slightly growly voice marked with a strange accent. I shook his hoof. “Who's your friend?” I nodded toward the body on the table. “Actually…” Dr. Humorous got a file off the table behind him. “...he’s your newest case. They brought the body in last night, didn't bother to tell anypony but me.” I growled to myself. Don’t the Guards here know anything about their jobs? “But as I was just about to tell Finder here…” the doc continued. “This definitely ranks as one of the strangest things I've seen working here.” Phillip didn’t say anything but nodded for Humorous to explain. Dr. Humorous sighed. “Cause of death, drowning.” I made a face and looked at the file again. “How’s that possible? Says here he was found on his balcony on the third floor. Not a drop of water in sight.” Dr. Humorous shrugged. “Well it was swamp water I found in his lungs. So unless he has a swamp in his condo, I have no answers for you.” “Thanks,” Finder grunted and turned to go. “Hold up there, Phillip Finder.” I turned to him. He stopped and turned to look at me. “You were outside Swampfire’s office yesterday,” he said. “You have a bit of a reputation around here,” I told him. “Now if half of what the other guards say is true, you are gonna work this case whether I like it or not. It just so happens, I think you know more about this case than I do right now. I'll freely admit it; I need your help, I'd rather not do this solo, and I can give you full access to the facility where Commander Swampfire can't say otherwise.” I held out a hoof. I swear the corner of his mouth twitched at the thought of annoying the Commander. “Ripper,” he nodded and shook my hoof. “Will do what I can to help.” I looked at the file, noting the address. “Four-eight-six-three-two, Dinkleberg Lane. Let's get moving.” Four-eight-six-three-two Dinkleberg Lane was a condominium, about five stories tall. There was a Guard wagon outside, and a few Guards stationed from patrols to make sure nopony tampered with it. I lead the way up to the crime scene via elevator with Phillip beside me. He wasn’t talkative. Not that I blamed him. He was just focused, and I can respect that. Also, elevators make me nervous. Being trapped metal box suspended by a few cables above certain death, nope. Stepping out of the elevator, Phillip and I made our way over to the crime scene. Two guards stood by the doors; they looked exhausted from standing there all night and all morning. They didn’t snap to attention when I approached. I decided to be insulting and snarky at the same time. “I got this,” I said to Phillip and stepped up to the two Guards. “You two are lucky it was me who arrived first,” I barked. They snapped to attention when they saw my rank. “If the Commander had come by, you two would be scrubbing the latrines for a month with your own toothbrushes.” “Apologies Sergeant,” one of them piped up. “It’s been a long night.” “I understand. Now we need to get into the crime scene. I’m the lead on the case.” Believe me, I was being polite. “Of course Sergeant, but he cannot accompany you,” the second spoke, nodding towards Phillip. “Commander’s orders.” I changed my tone from friendly to hostile. “I understand, but that isn't up to him, even if he is the Commander of SI. Regulation states that all possible assets and resources are to be used to the discretion of the investigating Sergeant. That’s me. Now unless you want your toothbrush to be used to clean the toilets. Step. Aside,” I ordered, glaring at them. They hesitated, but ultimately moved out of the way, opened the door for us, and lifted the yellow tape. “Good choice,” I said going into the condo with Phillip. I immediately started looking around the condo. Absolutely nothing was wrong here save for the chalk outline of a pony on the balcony. But something else had to be here right? Ponies don’t just drown in the middle of a condo. Phillip had moved out to the balcony and crouched over the chalk outline that crossed over a yoga mat as well, looking closely, he studied it. I proceeded to look around the condo first stop was the washroom. No water in the shower, or sink so they hadn't been used recently. The bedroom was spotless. This guy kept the place clean, almost spotless. I walked out to the kitchen, no cooked food, pots and pans in their places. This almost looked like he was almost never here. I had a look at the file again. Our victim, Rish Pinsin. Found dead on his balcony on a yoga mat. A local stockbroker working for a wealthy pony in Canterlot. He probably did a lot of traveling. Might’ve had a maid clean the place just before he came home each time. “Look here, mate,” I heard Phillip call. I went out to the balcony but stopped at the door: not a whole lot of room out there for two fully grown ponies and a chalk outline. Phillip was putting a cotton swab that he’d loaded with a green organic substance into a test tube that he’d plucked out of his vest. “Criss-cross Moss. Found its way under the yoga mat. Grows in swamps. He was drowned with swamp water,” he rattled off. I looked at the position of the chalk outline. “It looks as if he was able to move and started to crawl toward the door. So he wasn’t being held down.” “Ruling out that he was moved here. This being where he died.” Phillip agreed. “Question is; how? No signs of a break in.” I paused, looking around again, and I noticed a part of the wallpaper was slightly off like it had been repainted to look like the surrounding. “What’s this? A repair? One of the only things the Commander did was request a service record for this apartment and no wall repairs were recorded.” I paused. “You got a knife in that vest?” Phillip got out a little pocket knife and hoofed it to me. I needed to get my own. I started by poking the anomaly in the wall to find that it was soft. I found its edges and carved it out, revealing that it was just putty painted over. Inside was a little leather sack tied shut with twine, and a black brand of a symbol on it. “This probably wasn't in the blueprints for the building,” I said getting it out. I studied the symbol. It looked like the kind of ancient Equestrian symbols you see in history books. “This looks like magic. Do you agree?” I asked. “Open her up. Carefully,” Phillip suggested. I moved to set the bag on the dining table and pulled on the twine. It fell open revealing some interesting items. “Let’s see what our prize is,” I commented. “A vial of slimy green water, I’m gonna guess taken from a swamp. Two different kinds of small bones, one looks charred, one looks to be from an animal. Some blackthorn, and other herbs I don't recognize.” I frowned and looked at Phillip, who was impassive as ever. “Anything about this giving you the creeps?” “This is dark stuff.” Phillip picked up the charred bone. “This looks like a pony’s tailbone. Much smaller.” “Like a foal’s?” I said, hoping I was wrong. “Possibly.” “Damn.” I didn't like this already. It stinks. Literally; rotting corpses were becoming a smell I was very familiar with. “We should check the other crime scenes. See if something like this was there, too,” Philip suggested. “Also see if any shops sell this stuff,” I added. Phillip started to move toward the door. “I’ll check the crime scenes. You go ask some shops.” “Good idea. We’ll get it done faster. Meet back at the lab!” I called as he left. I stayed a moment longer and gathered up the little creepy magic bag and put it into several evidence bags, trying to touch the things as little as I could, before heading out. I was on my third shop by one in the afternoon. “So you don't sell this stuff?” I asked. The shopkeep was a zebra. “No, now go away. We do not practice that craft here. You need to leave,” he almost shouted. He looked scared. “Alright, alright. Sorry for the trouble.” I left the shop feeling a little defeated. I had one shop left to check in the area. ‘The Leaky Cauldron; Potions, Herbs, and Oils,’ said the hanging sign over the door. As the name suggests, it's a potion shop, but apparently, they also hold lessons on basic potion making according to a flyer I found in another shop. It was larger than most the other locations, set inside a single-story building on a cobblestone road. Stepping inside I got the scent of lavender. Some calming atmospheric music played that could be heard throughout the shop. The shopkeeper, a zebra mare with big golden earrings, metal bands around her neck, a smile on her face. “Welcome to da’ Leaky Cauldron. How may I help you today?” she asked in an accent I hadn't heard before. “Um, yes mam. I'm with the Guard,” I started to say. The mare frowned slightly. “All our permits are paid up. But perhaps this is not what perplexes you?” “I found some herbs and some other items and I was looking for a place that possibly sold them. All the other shops I've been to have thrown me out, and I really need your help.” I pulled out the evidence bags to show her. She glared at them, looking horrified and angry, but she didn't yell at me so that's progress. “It's a hex. Evil, and dark. I teach others to protect life. This is meant to take it, I certainly don't teach this to my students.” she said. “We do sell the herbs here, but not the bones, or the hydra stomach.” “Hydra stomach?” I asked, feeling my own stomach twisting inside me. I’d been carrying around a hydra stomach?! “A hydra is a very powerful creature. Using its stomach tissue to contain this a spell such as this one was an inspired idea. But not without its own dangers. Harvesting it for one,” she explained poking at the evidence bags. “Well, anyway if you sell the herbs do you think you could provide some names of who bought them?” I asked, trying not to stare at the bag with the hydra stomach. “I'm sure you have regulars.” “Indeed we do. But that will not help you,” the mare said. “What do you mean?” I asked. “These are all wild herbs. We grow the ones here in the shop ourselves. I can, however, give you the locations of where these all grow in the in the bayou.” She turned and disappeared behind a bead curtain. I waited patiently. I looked around a little. I saw the phrase, ‘Love Elixir’ on a bottle and instantly thought of Snow. For a moment, I thought about purchasing it, but decided against it; as hurt as I am, I'm not that desperate for her affection. Although she definitely left a hole in my life. The shopkeeper returned. “These are some maps of where you can find the herbs,” she said and slid a bunch of maps with highlighted areas on them across the countertop. “Thank you.” I gathered my evidence, being sure to pick up the hydra stomach bag with only the very tip of my hoof. She nodded. “Anytime, Detective.” I made my way down to the basement offices of SI. I hadn't looked at the maps as of yet, I wanted to get Phillip's take on them. On my arrival, however, I found that Phillip hadn't returned as of yet. “Strider!” Swampfire’s voice bellowed from across the office as soon as I entered. “My office, now!” Uh-oh. I walked across the offices, ignoring the comments from the other Guards. “Oooh, the hotshot’s in trouble!” one of them jeered. Ignoring them, I walked into the office to find Swampfire sitting behind his desk, doing a very good impression of a volcano about to explode. I stood at attention saluting him. "Commander? What can I assist you with?” I asked, trying to sound innocent. "Would you mind telling me why Finder was there at the crime scene this morning?” Swampfire asked with a growl. The fact that he didn't let me stand at ease, was a good indicator that I was in trouble. I started my explanation. "Phillip Finder is an asset I can use in my investigation. Regulation states that—” "By Celestia, Sergeant!” Swampfire burst out. He took a breath before continuing. "That pony is nothing but trouble. He is one step away from being a vigilante! I want him off the case.” I stood firm. "His PI License is paid and up to date. He is working fully within Equestrian Law.” “His license can be revoked by the Guard if we feel he is obstructing justice,” the Commander argued. I rose my voice not to show hostility but to make my point. "A decision... that is not up to you at the moment Commander,” I said flatly. Swampfire got in my face and glared. "l can have you removed from the case, Sergeant.” I tried not to smirk. Lucky all those study sessions with Snow had resulted in my memorizing the Royal Guard manual. "Actually, sir, you can't. Regulation seven-three-seven; the investigating officer cannot be removed from the case unless they have done something to jeopardize an arrest.” I stared right back at him. "I have not jeopardized the investigation in any way, and neither has Finder.” “You are just determined to be a pain in my side, aren't you Sergeant?” Swampfire growled. He stood up and stepped around me. "I hope you didn’t unpack, Sergeant. 'Cause you are not gonna be here long if you don't fall in line.” He grunted and jerked his head, indicating for me to get out his office. I left and he slammed the door shut behind us. "Yeah, I’ve never been good at ‘falling in line,’'’ I mumbled to myself as I walked back to my office. Finder returned before long, a serious expression on his features. “I found a few more of those bags at the scenes. Did you find out what they were?” He set the new evidence bags on my desk each labeled where they were found. “They’re hex bags. Made to kill.” I slid over a map for him to have a look. "Each of these maps highlight areas in the in the bayou where these herbs can be found. I was going to see if somepony in the lab could narrow down the search area with what you and I have found so far. Did your search turn up anything new?” I started to gather the maps. “Yes. Talked with a few of the family members, and apparently the deceased became overnight successes three years ago, along with many others in this town, all of whom had a string of good luck around this time three years ago.” Phillip said. “That raises some red flags,” I commented moving to the Lab. Finder nodded and followed as he continued. “Made the newspapers.” I stopped outside the Lab. “Anypony in those articles still alive?” “A few,” he confirmed. “We should pay them a visit then, after this. I think somepony’s out for payback.” I pushed open the door to the Laboratory. There were four ponies in here, three unicorns and a pegasus. The pegasus’ workstation was covered in maps: maps of the city, maps of the swamp, and maps from all around the world. I didn't recognize a good third of them. “Hello?” I called walking into their station. The pegasus mare in the workstation looked up. She had a coat that resembled old parchment, and her mane was a grey with small strands of grey running through it, done up in a bun, but the big round glasses she wore made her look super nerdy. “Oh, hey you must be the new Sergeant. Sup Phillip?” She waved at Finder, who nodded back, before turning her attention back to me. “Where are you from? Don't tell me!” she blurted and started examining me. “Growth pattern of the hooves consistent with high-quality cobblestone, wings look like they are from a long bloodline of Pegasi Warriors, but judging by your leg length, and the size of your ears, you have both Earth Pony and Unicorn genes. How did I do?” I was impressed. “Hit the nail on the head. My name is Strider. What's yours?” “Octa. Its short for Octant, that is an old tool sailors would use to measure latitude. Not very accurate, they got lost a LOT. Anyway, what can I help you with?” she smiled and fluttered her eyelids at us. “We have some herbs, and maps to where these herbs can be found in the swamp. We were hoping for you could narrow down our search area.” I held up the evidence bag. Don’t think about the hydra stomach, Strider. Octa made a dismissive sound and rolled her eyes. “Is that all? I'll have it done by morning. If you have any other things to do, go to them.” She started to get to work, muttering to herself and tapping the map. I was about to say something but Finder stopped me. “Best let her work, mate,” he said. We left the labs and stood in the hallway momentarily. “So where are we going first?” I asked. “The first one runs a bar off of eighteenth street, goes by the name of Blu. Mostly patrons to musicians who want to be left alone. Care to let me do the talking this time. I might be able to get more info than you. No offense,” he added after a moment. “Hey none taken, I knew what I signed up for when I enlisted. Anyway, lead the way.” I was out of uniform, leaving it in my office at Finder's request. I saw the wisdom in not going dressed as a Guard. I had Dino hidden in my feathers though. He was good at retrieving things that aren't supposed to be retrieved, so I brought him along more often than not. We arrived outside the bar on eighteenth. Blu’s Blues. Interesting name for a bar. “You know we would have gotten here faster if I carri—” I started to say. “No,” Finder said firmly. “Okay. Just stating the obvious here,” I shrugged. “We are going to be observing first. Once I get a sense for the guy, I'll ask the questions,” Phillip said. “I call dibs on next time,” I joked. Finder just grunted as we entered the bar. The place was built with brick walls and wood floors; there was lavender seating, and a stage with blue curtains, upon which a zebra band was playing a blues set. The bar was blue-stained pine. Phillip and I sat at the bar and listened to the ponies performing for a short while. I ordered a plate of fries to munch on while I waited. Finder largely kept his attention on the bartender. He was a blue stallion, and I mean blue. He was the same color as the bar all over. I’m assuming this is Blu. Dropping his hat on the bar, Phillip watched him as he spoke kindly to a forlorn-looking pony at the bar, patting him on the shoulder and smiling. I was trying to keep my attention on everything I could all while looking for something out of place. Like the painted over wall back in that apartment. “Say, barkeep!” Finder finally called out. I jumped slightly at his voice; he’d changed his speech to mimic a local accent, hiding his own accent. Blu came over. “Can I help ya?” he asked. “This is a nice bar,” Phillip said, looking around the place. “I’ve been all over Equestria, and this is easily one of the best. You must be real lucky.” “Well, thank you,” Blu said. “We’re looking for a soothsayer, or medicine mare, sompony good with hexes. Know any?” Finder asked. “I know of one,” Blu shrugged, speaking slowly. Finder pressed the issue, leaning forward. “I hear that you became an overnight success, and you know how ponies talk,” he whispered. “See, my friend and I, we...we’ve run into a spot of bad luck recently. We both lost our jobs, we’re running out of money, we had to sell our homes…” He affected a rather pleading expression. “We’re gonna be eating out of garbage dumpsters in a week. Please. We need somepony to turn our luck around, and fast.” It was about now that I noticed that Dino had slithered off. I tried to not looked panicked as I looked for him in this dimly lit place without moving from my seat. Blu glanced around to make sure nopony was listening, then whispered to Phillip, “I met him once, gave me a luck charm. Earned all this soon afterward. He moves around the city. Last rumor I heard is that he’s been seen around the Wonderbolt racetrack. That’s as much as I know.” Phillip smiled broadly in relief and grasped Blu’s hoof. “Thank you. Thank you so much,” he breathed. “No problem.” Blu walked off to handle another customer. Phillip turned back to me, dropping his desperate look. “There is a Wonderbolt race tomorrow morning,” I said, having overheard. “I was just gonna see if my daughter wanted to go but it seems we’ll have to go another time.” “We can go check it out tomorrow, and see if we can find anything that can narrow the locations down for Octa.” Phillip stood up and scooped his hat off the bar. “ I’ll see you at the station tomorrow,” he said, exiting. “Yeah.” I nodded as I sat there, munching my fries waiting for Dino to return. After a while, Dino slithered back into my wing with a hex bag in his mouth. “Nice work buddy,” I whispered, feeding him a fry. “You’re going to a Wonderbolt race!?” Jett whined, obviously jealous. I stopped making dinner for a moment. “To look for a killer, I won’t be watching.” Much, I added in thought. “I wanna go, please Dad?” Jett pleaded and gave me the sad eyes. I had to resist. “Sorry, sweetie. I can’t this time. I promise once we can, we will go to a race.” She pouted. “Okay.” I hugged her. “You excited for school tomorrow?” She groaned. I chuckled “Yeah I didn't think so. Just try and make some friends.” “Dad, when can we go home?” she asked me. “What do you mean?” I asked. Jett frowned. “I mean that this place just feels… wrong. I want to go home, where our family is. Where Snow is.” She hugged me tighter. I felt a twinge of pain in my chest at the mention of her name. “Maybe in time but for now we have to stay here. I don’t think we’ll be here for very long anyway.” “Why?” “Ehh… My boss isn’t my biggest fan.” I shrugged. Jett laughed. “Let me finish dinner okay?” “Okay.” Jett smiled.