So here I was. A small white room, with nothing but a table between myself, and the Equestrian Special Task Force. The lights were almost blinding. I had to squint my eyes just to see the pony sitting across from me clearly.
"So Mr..." He glanced down at his notepad "Foris is it? Can you talk me through the events of yesterday for me, I'm having a hard time believing your story."
For the tenth or so time, I went through my story. Beginning in the Coffee house, on to the alleyway where I had fallen victim to the cruel humour of fate. I described the feeling of death, and being brought back to life.
"Are you sure that is all Mr Foris? I feel like you're not telling me everything here." He glanced at me over his sunglasses, evaluating every movement of my face.
"That's all sir, she eluded me when I attempted to talk to her." I stared at the table. They had kept me here overnight, I hadn't slept. Hadn't ate. They just kept asking me the same questions over and over like each time they were getting a different answer. Every time they didn't hear what they wanted to, they repeated the same phrase.
Please Mr Foris, we need to know everything. She is a dangerous criminal and any information leading to her capture would be greatly rewarded.
She didn't seem dangerous to me. Far the opposite. She saved my life. Maybe that's why I kept quiet, perhaps I felt I owed her that.
After a few more exasperating attempts at getting me to talk, the ESTF eventually accepted defeat, and I was free to go. The heavy doors to their building slammed shut behind me, and I took a deep breath and sighed. No doubt the ponies I was supposed to garden for would be mad that I hadn't shown, however that was a problem for tomorrow. I was hungry, exhausted and just wanted a few hours of peace.
The walk home passed in a daze. I couldn't stop thinking about her. Who was she? What was her story? Why did she choose to save me? I was just any other random pony in the grand scheme of things, and accidents happen like that all the time around the city and she doesn't save them. Perhaps it was just right time, right place.
I placed my keys in their usual bowl by the front door and slumped down on my sofa. My apartment wasn't much, but it was home, and here I could unwind. A few hours passed while I mulled over the same questions, bemusedly making my meagre houseplant grow and shrink at will. The funny thing is, I had been given this power, and all I could think of to do with it was advance my career and play with my plants. She seemed to have a purpose at least, but me? I was just wasting away in my daily life.
With rest eluding me I decided I need answers, although I am no detective. I had heard rumours while catering to the elite of Manehattan that there was a pony you could pay to find answers. They used her all the time when finding out about each others affairs and drama. I needed to find her, and I needed to find my answers.
I knocked on the ornate door belonging to Hoity Toity, an upper class fashion executive for some brand that all the fillies and mares seemed to care about. Before long, a sharply dressed butler answered the door.
"Hello, my name is Foris, I'm looking for Mr Toity. Is he available?" The pony looked me up and down, and I realised I must not look my best. My mane was matted from the lack of sleep, and I must of looked tired and dirty. He stepped away from the door, clearing my way to enter and I stepped into the large entrance hall.
"Mr Toity will be with you in just a moment... sir." He turned up his nose, and trotted off into another room. I stood awkwardly for a few moments, the ticking of the clock hanging upon the wall was the only noise to break the silence. Before long the door where the butler had disappeared opened once more and the elegant Hoity Toity stepped out.
"Hello Foris!" He exclaimed in his usual over the top mannerism "How may I help you today? Did my butler not pay you? He has a habit of pocketing money for himself, so that would NOT surprise me in the slightest."
"Actually Mr Toity, I am here on a personal errand," I shuffled my hoofs awkwardly, trying to find the right words "I need some information, and I couldn't help but overhear you talking about a private investigator before, and was wondering if I could maybe get her details?"
"Please young man, call me Hoity! You are more than just the "help" you know." He winked at me, and continued, "Now I'm sure I can help you with this, although I didn't think you for the nosy type, however you may fit in with high society better than I thought." He chuckled away to himself, as if the thought of somepony like me joining his social circle was amusing. He shuffled through some papers in a cabinet, searching long and hard for something.
"AHA! Here it is!" He turned to face me with a small, torn piece of parchment with an address hastily scribbled on the back.
"Thank you Hoity, if there is anything I can do for you, please just let me know!" I turned away, saying a quick farewell as I trotted through his garden and onto the street.
Apartment 10A, Hooften Avenue
I admit, when I arrived at the address I expected an office building, not a run down apartment complex in the bad side of town. Windows were boarded up, and the lights were flickering on the inside. Nervously, I entered and began my ascent up the stained staircases. Eventually I found my way to the right floor, and at the far end of the corridor I could see a door with the number I was looking for. Looking down that hallway, my gut was telling me to turn, run, get the hay out of there, but curiosity was overpowering me now.
I approached the door, the glass panel was all smashed out and boarded up from the inside. Letters were etched on the few remaining shards that clung to the frame.
J..... ones
Pri.......tor
Well, now or never I suppose. I gently knocked on the wood of the door, and immediately heard commotion as if someone was scrambling to hide something. After a couple of moments, the door flew open, caught by a small chain to the pony could look out at me.
"Yes?!" She said in a very blunt manner.
"H..Hi, I'm looking for a private investigator, am I at the right place?" I tried to smile, but the smell of the corridor, and the stale whiskey wafting from her apartment were difficult to ignore. With a sigh, she undid the chain and allowed me to enter. The room inside was barely furnished. A large desk was placed in the middle, with two chairs in front, and one large comfier looking chair placed behind. A half empty bottle of whiskey was on the table, beside an overflowing ashtray.
I cautiously follow the pony over to her desk, and watched as she sat down and unscrewed the lid on the bottle, taking a large gulp, ignoring the glass beside her. Her black mane was matted and obscured her face slightly, but behind I could see she looked like she hadn't slept in weeks. Her eyes were slightly sunken, bags gave the impression that she had been in a rather nasty fight, or maybe she had been?
"So, whadda you want?" She asked, putting the whiskey down and lighting a cigarette.
"I'm... I'm looking for information on someone. A unicorn with a fiery mane and tail, coat as white as snow, bright scarlet eyes and goes by the name of Ember." She looked me up and down as I was talking, giving me a weird look.
"You're not some kinda stalker are you pal? 'Cos I don't deal with that kinda crap ya'know." Her husky voice set in a much more aggravated tone now.
"No! I'm not a stalker! Celestia no!" I caught myself about to explain everything to her, but quickly stopped, "Can you tell me, is everything I say here confidential?"
"Yeah? Your business is none of my business pal." She took a long drag of her cigarette, making me cough slightly.
"Well you've probably heard that some ponies have been given certain powers in accordance to their eye colours. Well, I have one of those powers, and so does she. She managed to bring me back from the dead after a freak accident a couple of days ago, and... oh god I sound crazy don't I?" It did seem a little far fetched now that I was saying at aloud to another pony.
"Not the craziest I've heard believe me. Look, if you got bits I'll take the case, I'm happy to take your money even if you are crazy." She stubbed her cigarette into the ashtray causing a cascade of ask and old butts to fall onto the desk. I could hear her drinking the whiskey again as I rummaged through my saddlebag for the bits I had brought.
"How much are your services may I ask?" I looked up at her from my bags.
"One thousand bits" She said, very casually.
"Jeez, that's a lot! Well I have five hundred here, would you take the other half after delivery?" I placed the bag of coins on her desk, and she quickly stuffed them into a drawer. There goes some of my savings I guess.
"Sure, I'll get on your case as soon as possible. Not like I have much goin' on anyhow." She rose from her desk, gesturing to the door.
"Thank you, when should I come back to catch up Miss....?"
"Jones," She replied in a deadpan manner, "And don't come back, I'll come to you."
"But you don't know where I..." The door slammed shut in my face, "live...."