“Let me go back to that night,” Cold Case said, sitting across from Phillip in the interrogation room. A large folder stuffed with papers, labeled “Lucky Dice” in permanent marker, sat on the table between them. “Twentieth of the Moon of Snow, 1948. Lucky Dice had just gotten off at the trial and headed home. You had gone to the Midnight Oil, presumably to try to forget the rest of the world.”
She paused a beat, fixing Phillip with her trademark icy stare. Phillip looked up at her, his head still lowered slightly.
“The next afternoon, an officer responded to a call from Lucky’s apartment building, reporting that Lucky Dice had not been seen all day,” Cold Case continued, pulling some photographs from the folder and laying them on the table. They were pictures of an apartment’s living room. The carpet had been ripped up, leaving a large patch of bare floor. “When he entered Dice’s apartment, he found that there was no sign of Lucky Dice. Furthermore, there were some signs of a struggle, several valuables and bags and suitcases were missing, there were traces of blood in the bathroom sink and on the floor, and a large section of the carpet was, as you can see, missing. Also missing was the recording geode for the apartment building’s surveillance crystals.”
Cold Case fixed Phillip with an even icier stare, like a sharp winter wind directed right into his face. “What happened that night, Phillip?”
Phillip was silent, staring at the pictures in contemplation. Beneath the table, his hooves clutched each other, both trembling. His eyes panned back and forth over the images; in his mind, he could recall the scene with perfect clarity, the scent of blood, the warm liquid on his hooves, the still body in front of him, cast in half-shadow and half-light by the broken lamp on the floor.
Cold leaned in closer a bit. “We also have a witness who will put you at that building that night. A witness who heard you talking to Dice. And a former security guard who says that you bribed him for the geode,” she said. She stared for a beat to let that sink in. “You’re not getting out of this one, Finder,” she declared.
Still Phillip did not answer, nor look up. The thudding of his heart, the constant stream of memories that made his stomach churn was like a battering ram against the stone mask that he wore over his face, cracking it, threatening to break the dams over his mind at any moment.
“Finder, you—”
The door suddenly banged open. “Mister Finder, don’t say another word,” a stallion’s voice said.
Cold and Phillip both looked up to examine the stranger. The stallion before them was a short clover green unicorn with green eyes and brown hair that was turning gray at the temples. He wore a light brown suit with a red tie and a thick watch. A suitcase was floating next to his head, held in a blue aura. His cutie mark was a pair of red dice, showing a five and a two.
“Who the hell are you?” Cold Case scowled.
“Vinny Gamble,” the unicorn said, fishing a business card out of his suit with his magic and levitating it over to Cold. There was a trace of a Manehattan accent in his voice. “I’m his attorney. Anything my client has said prior to this is inadmissible in court, as he did not have proper legal representation at the time.”
Cold glared at him. “Finder didn’t ask for a lawyer.”
“A friend did,” Vinny said, looking over at Phil. “Mister Finder, do you accept my legal assistance?”
Phillip looked him up and down, his expression giving away nothing. He stared at Vinny for a few beats, then nodded once.
“Well, that settles it,” Vinny grinned at Cold and walked around to sit next to Phillip, opening up his briefcase to reveal several folders “I’m going to need some time to confab with my client, so why don’t you take a smoke break or something?”
Cold Case glared at Vinny like she wanted to have him raked over hot coals, but turned and exited, slamming the door behind her.
“Okay,” Vinny said, sighing. He turned to Phillip with a grin. “Okay, let’s go over the case here. You—”
“Cut the bulldust,” Phillip interrupted. “That suit you’re wearing is a rental, and it’s a size too big. You grabbed it this morning in a rush; the tie’s yours, though, it’s got your cutie mark monogrammed on it. You have suits, but you wanted a fancier one to make a good impression. Your breakfast was on the run: crumbs and cinnamon on your lips, coffee stains on your sleeve. Trolley map in your breast pocket: if that highlighted route is any indication, you live in the southeastern part of the Everfree District. Cigarette ashes in your suitcase, but you don’t smoke. You had the briefcase open in your lap on the trolley, the pony next to you was smoking. Pipe smoker, Bugbear brand, I’d guess. And most of those are notes on courtroom procedures and legal rights.” He fixed Vinny with an even gaze. “You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”
Vinny stared at Phillip for a few beats, then gave a small smile and shrugged. “Well, you got me,” he laughed wryly. “I am a lawyer, but...I’m actually a personal injury lawyer. It’s been...heh...quite a while since I set hoof in a courtroom or an interrogation room, I, er...needed to brush up on some things.”
“Who sent you?” Phillip asked.
“Flash Sentry,” Vinny said. “When his mom, Pastor Sound, was in that car accident that made her blind, I took her case on. We’ve been close ever since. He called me last night, said a buddy of his needed some help, and I said, ‘Say no more, Vinny’s on the case!’” He looked down and let out another wry laugh. “Should’ve looked before I leaped. I mean, I’m sure that a hotshot PI like you can afford a better lawyer…”
“I’ll take you,” Phillip said. “You come with good recommendations.”
Vinny stared for a beat, then grinned. “Well, if you’re sure. We’d better get started then!”
Cold Case glared through the one-way mirror at Phillip and his new attorney in stony silence, then grunted and walked down the hallway. Her mind buzzed, thoughts thrumming through it with the beat of her heart.
She needed to calm down. Needed to focus. Needed to deal with the burning, incessant itch in her nostrils. Up in her office, there was a fresh supply—
She turned the corner and found herself face to face with the last pony in the world she wanted to deal with. “We need to talk,” Daring Do said.
“About what?” Cold Case snarled back, pushing past her. “You and Phillip—”
“I know what Silvertongue has on you,” Daring interrupted, her voice calm.
Cold Case stopped as suddenly as though she’d run into a brick wall. She looked back at Daring over her shoulder. Daring looked back at her calmly, but there were cracks in her mask: the thick bags under her eyes, the flaring of her nostrils as she breathed.
Cold grunted and jerked her head to indicate Daring to follow her. The two proceeded into an elevator, the detectives inside quickly clearing out when they saw their Chief approaching. Cold walked into the elevator and stabbed the button for the top floor almost before Daring entered. The doors closed and they rode up to the top in silence. When they reached their destination, Cold led the way into her office. She slammed the door shut behind them and quickly cast a soundproofing spell on the door, covering it in a pale blue aura.
“What do you want?” she hissed to Daring, walking around behind her desk and sitting down in the large chair.
Daring sat down in one of the other chairs in front of the desk, her eyes still on Cold. She took a deep breath, swallowed as though she’d rather vomit than speak, then said, “To help you.”
Cold blinked, momentarily taken aback.
“I did take a look at this case file already,” Daring began. “Those two witnesses you’re leaning on: you interviewed them already and they didn’t know anything. The neighbor was out at the time, and that guard admitted that he was sleeping the entire shift. You’re gonna tell me that almost two years later, they suddenly have a change of heart and tell the truth?” She fixed Cold with a gaze that was just below a glare. “They’re lying, and you know it.”
Cold didn’t answer verbally, but her eyes flickered to the side as if trying to dart around the question.
“It’s Silvertongue,” Daring continued. “He’s pressing you to move on this, and he’s pressing them to lie.”
Again Cold didn’t answer verbally, but her eyes momentarily lowered to signal assent.
“So you’re caught between a rock and hard place,” Daring said. “Either you get this conviction, which you know is dirty, or he exposes you.”
“Get to the point, Do,” Cold snapped.
Daring started to growl at her, but stopped and took a breath. “I’m getting to it,” she said. “You tell yourself that it’s just this once, that you’ll put a killer in jail and you can always get to Silvertongue later. But that’s now how it works. You give an inch to somepony like this, and the next thing you know, they’re taking a mile out of you.” She held up her right hoof. “Believe me, I know a thing or two about things like that.”
Cold’s eyes fixed themselves upon the brand on Daring’s hoof, a red mark like a ring of keys forever burned into her skin.
“You know that I’m right,” Daring pressed, watching as the unicorn mare’s posture slowly began to slump. “And even if you get some satisfaction out of this, what then? If Silvertongue decides he doesn’t want you in this office anymore, he can turn around and prove that you were part of a miscarriage of justice. The red poppydust might cost you your job, but that’ll put you in prison. For a really long time.”
Cold winced for half a second, her shoulders stiffening as the truth hit her. The mask had fully slipped off, revealing the exhaustion and fear behind her icy eyes.
“Cold, listen,” Daring said, lowering her hoof. “You give into him now, and he wins. No matter what you do after this, he knows he can get you under his hoof. But if you push back now, you can win. Why do you think he’s pressing for this now? He knows we’re closing in on him and he’s scared. He’s vulnerable, and he knows it.”
She paused for a beat, watching Cold. Cold Case did not look up at her. “We can beat him,” she said. “We can stop him forever. We can get rid of that blackmail. You know we can.”
Cold turned and looked back up at Daring, regaining some of her icy demeanor. “And how do you expect me to trust you?” she asked.
Daring sighed. “I expect you to trust your former partner,” she said. “And I hope that you can trust that Phil made a mistake, and he’s carrying that around with him every day, and he’s trying to do the right thing now.” She held up her right hoof, showing off the brand once more. “Believe me, I know a thing or two about that.”
Cold Case stared at the brand for a moment, then spun the chair around so that her back was to Daring. She sat in silence, staring vacantly out the windows behind her. On the other side of the glass, snow fell lightly, individual flakes joining hundreds of thousands that covered the city in a white blanket, as if to hide the ugliness underneath.
“Cold,” Daring said softly, allowing a soft note of pleading to enter her voice.
Cold Case didn’t respond for several more minutes of a silence so cold and harsh that the air felt like it had solidified into ice. Finally, she slowly turned back around to face Daring, her face once more a mask of control. She stared at Daring, then nodded once.
“So I think our best bet for an opening strategy is to attack their um, uh...corpus...corpus delictus,” Vinny said, stroking his chin with a hoof as he thought.
“Corpus delicti,” Phillip corrected him patiently.
“Yeah, that,” Vinny nodded. “See, if they can’t prove that something actually happened to Lucky, they can’t charge you with anything. They—”
The door to the interrogation room opened and Cold Case reentered. “Mister Finder will not be needing your services, Mister Gamble,” she declared.
Vinny stood up. “Excuse you, miss, but my client has a right to have an attorney present—”
“He won’t be needing your services because he is free to go,” Cold interrupted.
Vinny froze for a moment, his mouth open and his hoof raised. “Oh,” he said slowly, lowering his hoof. He began to sheepishly repack his suitcase.
Cold gave Finder a curt nod. He stood up slowly and walked out of the room, with Vinny in tow. Daring was waiting for him in the hallway outside, looking immensely relieved.
“Thanks,” Phil said, shaking hooves with Vinny.
“No prob, anything for a buddy,” Vinny grinned, flashing him his card. “You need a bit of legal assistance, Vinny’s your guy!” He gave Daring a wink and walked off.
Cold watched this exchange in silence, then turned to Phillip and Daring when Vinny was gone. “This is just a truce,” she explained in a hard tone. “If and when Silvertongue is taken care of, you will be brought back in for questioning.”
“Why the change of mind?” Phillip asked Cold. Cold just glared at him and turned away.
Phil turned to Daring, who leaned in and whispered into his ear. Phil’s eyes widened, and he turned back to Cold. As if sensing his gaze, she paused, half-looking back over her shoulder at him.
“I should’ve guessed,” Phil said softly. “That day in your office, when you called us in after Tumbler was killed: you were withdrawing. I should’ve noticed the symptoms.”
Cold didn’t say anything, but she didn’t move either.
Phil hesitated for just a moment, then stepped forward, reaching into his vest. He pulled out a small purple coin with a 10 embossed on it and held it out to Cold.
“Look up Applejack and Coloratura at the Apple Pie,” he said. “They sponsored me, they can help you. And when you’ve earned it, you can give it back.”
Cold stared at the coin, and once again, the icy mask melted away, revealing defeat in her slumped shoulders, confusion in her eyes, and a tinge of sadness in her mouth.
“You might not ever see it again,” she said bitterly, enveloping the coin in an aura of her magic and slowly taking it from his hoof.
“I’ll see it again in ten moons,” Phillip said. “I know my old partner.” He gave her a small smile, then turned and followed Daring down the hallway. As he turned the corner, he looked back at Cold. She was still standing in the hallway, staring at the coin. It might have been a trick of the light, but he thought he saw tears forming in her eyes.
They turned the corner and entered an empty hallway. “Right,” Phillip said, shrugging. “We need to get back to—”
He was cut off by Daring grabbing him and seizing him in a tight embrace, forcefully pressing her lips against his. He started in shock, letting out a brief, muffled protest before he began to kiss her back.
“I was worried,” she breathed, nuzzling his neck.
“I’m okay, Daring,” Phillip reassured her, halfheartedly trying to escape her embrace. “We don’t have to worry about that now.”
“We will later,” Daring said.
Phil gently pushed her off him, careful to keep his face expressionless. “Let’s worry about Meadow Dance and Silvertongue first. But right now, I need to get my stuff out of booking, and there are some ponies I need to make things right with.”
Doctor Suunkii, Twilight, Flash, Red Herring, and Trace Evidence stood gathered in the laboratory, talking in low, serious tones.
“What it boils down to is this,” Trace said, rubbing his temples with his forehooves. “If we can find Meadow Dance and keep her safe, her husband, Rusty Key, might flip on Silvertongue for us. But,” he gestured at the table in front of them, which was covered in photographs, files, and bags containing evidence. “We have next to nothing to go on.”
“No thanks to some of our colleagues,” Red Herring growled. “The chief must’ve missed a few spots when she cleaned the department up.”
“At least she got rid of Night Waltz,” Trace grumbled. “Okay, let’s go over what we’ve got here one more ti—” He paused, looking up at the pony entering the room.
Phillip walked into the laboratory, wearing his trademark vest and trilby. He paused, looking around at everypony.
“What happened?” Flash asked.
“Cold decided to hold off on the charges,” Phillip said. He sighed. “Look, I...listen. I need to say something.” He took a breath.
“The things I’ve done, the way I do things...you’re all right. It’s not right. And I should face up to that. Whatever you all think of me now...I am sorry for what I’ve done. And I am going to try to change. But…” He sighed and wiped his face with a hoof. “Why do words have to be so hard?” he muttered. “Look, I—”
“Phillip,” Twilight interrupted. She approached him and placed a hoof on his shoulder. “It’s okay,” she smiled. “We trust you.”
"You're the most annoying little prick I've ever met, besides your partner," Red said without hesitation. "But you're on our side. I know that now."
"I agree," Flash piped up.
Trace just nodded. Phillip turned to Suunkii, who had remained silent. Slowly, Suunkii reached for a small box on the counter and opened it up. Inside was the little harmonica. He stared at it for a few moments, then looked up at Phillip. Slowly, a smile spread across his face and he nodded at him.
Phillip smiled back and nodded. “Aces,” he said, putting his hat back on. “Right, I need to get to work on finding Silvertongue. How are you doing on Meadow Dance?”
“We’re fucking nowhere,” Red said, gesturing at the table in front of them. “Any and all of the evidence that was collected from the scene is useless, and there are no real suspects.” He grunted. “We could use your help.”
“Silvertongue will be moving fast: I’m needed elsewhere. You can handle this,” Phillip said. “I know you can.”
“But—” Flash started to protest.
“Think like me,” Phillip said. “It’ll come to you.” He gave everypony a nod, placed his hat on his head, and walked out of the lab. Rejoining Daring, he turned and walked out of sight.
“Think like he does, huh?” Red scoffed. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“I think,” Flash said slowly, staring at the evidence. “I think we need to do what he would do if he had been hired for this. What we need to do is...look at it fresh.”
“He’s right,” Trace said. He lit up his horn and shoved all of the files and evidence aside.
Twilight squawked in protest. “I had those organized!”
“Sorry,” Trace said. “But we need to start all over. No theories, no preconceived notions. Look at this as clearly as we can. If we’re gonna save Meadow Dance, we need to find something, and quick.”
Silvertongue stared in disbelief at the image before him. Phillip Finder and Daring Do were exiting the precinct, Daring grinning and grabbing Phillip beneath the forelegs before taking off into the air.
“No,” he whispered, lowering his face into his hooves. “No. No. No, no, no.” He took several deep breaths, then looked up towards the door of the black room. A servant stood there, hovering nervously at the threshold.
“Tell me that they came,” he said. “Tell me that they work.”
“Yes, sir,” the servant nodded. “We just set them up. One in every room.”
“Let me see them,” Silvertongue said, standing up. He followed the servant to the purple room. Every item in that room, every painting, every sculpture, every statue, was themed in shades of purple and violet: every item but one. Standing in one corner of the room was a suit of armor, black and red, designed to cover the wearer’s entire body. The heavy helm was decorated with a mask like a demon, featuring glaring yellow eyes and a wide grinning mouth filled with sharp teeth. Large spikes were embedded in the helmet’s crest and the shoulder plates.
“One in each of the rooms, like you asked, sir,” the servant said, standing back nervously as Silvertongue approached the suit of armor, stroking the demonically decorated cheek.
“And you are certain that they will recognize me as their master?” Silvertongue asked, shaking the silver bracelet on his wrist.
“If...if the enchantments work, sir,” the servant stammered. “I mean, we did the best we could, but none of us are Zugzwang—”
“Don’t say his name!” Silvertongue snapped, whirling on the smaller unicorn, who flinched and stepped back. Silvertongue took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I apologize, Goblet."
"It's all right, sir," the servant nodded quickly.
“And the other features that I ordered?” Silvertongue asked, turning back to the suit of armor.
“Already installed, sir."
“Good,” Silvertongue nodded, lifting up his foreleg and looking at the bracelet. It was about a half inch thick, adorned with runes that glowed faintly beneath the light. “If Phillip Finder and Daring Do come around here, we’ll be ready for them.”
Daring landed in front of the Sunrise Hotel, dropping Phillip off in front of the carpeting. “Really missed doing this,” she grinned at Phil.
“I didn’t,” Phil said.
“Liar,” Daring said, gently smacking his flank with her tail. Phillip couldn’t help but smile.
They entered the Hotel and walked through the lobby to the stairs. Ascending to the second floor, they proceeded to room 203 and knocked. The door opened a crack and Arc Light peeked out.
“Phil!” he said, looking delighted. He quickly scanned both ponies and hurriedly let them into the room, smiling widely. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” Phillip said.
Celestia, still in her Sunny Skies disguise, was sitting on the bed, eyes closed as though in meditation. She looked up when the two ponies entered, and smiled. “Detective Finder, Detective Do. Good to see you again.”
“Yeah, looks like Mythic missed us, too,” Daring commented, glancing over at Mythic, who had been polishing her pistol at the table when they entered. Mythic glared at Daring but said nothing.
“How did you convince Chief Case to release you?” Celestia asked.
“We’ve reached a truce,” Phillip explained. “Once we’ve dealt with Silvertongue, we’ll deal with this.”
Celestia frowned. “I see,” she nodded. “If you need assistance with—”
“Thank you, but we’ll worry about Silvertongue first,” Phillip said, raising a hoof. “Where are we with that?”
“There is a problem,” Celestia said gravely. “I have spoken to both Chief Case and the local judges, including a Judge Gavel. All of them agree that a search warrant against Silvertongue is not likely to go through.” She shook her head. “It seems that, unfortunately, he still holds great power over many ponies of influence.”
“And even if we did get a warrant, the likelihood is that Silvertongue would know about it,” Daring commented. "And he'd just move that notebook someplace else."
“And to make matters worse, I have received words from my spies,” Celestia said. “I have learned that there are rumors among foreign powers that a pony is offering a treaty between Equestria and the Zebra tribes for sale to the highest bidder. If that treaty gets into the wrong hooves, it could put us at a severe disadvantage.”
“We have to get that notebook,” Daring said.
“How?” Mythic asked. “I suppose you were planning on stealing it?”
Daring looked at Mythic and grinned, tilting her pith helmet over her eyes. “That’s not a bad idea.”
Mythic's eyes widened. "Are you serious?"
"Very," Daring said.
"Daring, we can't," Phillip said. "I promised that—"
"You don't have to go," Daring cut in, her grin vanishing to be replaced with a severe expression. "But you know as well as I do: we're running out of options. We can't just bargain for it, we can't get it legally. As long as Silvertongue has that journal, as long as he's in control, ponies are going to suffer. It has to stop." She looked around the room. "I'll do it by myself if I have to. You know I will."
Phillip looked at Daring for several long seconds of silence, then sighed quietly and stood up to stand next to her, nodding. The two looked at Celestia, Arc, and Mythic. Celestia had her head lowered in thought, frowning pensively.
"You can't be considering this," Mythic protested.
"Mythic, sometimes you have to do something ugly to get the best results," Arc said flatly. "But it's her decision." He looked at Celestia. "Your Highness?"
Celestia was silent for several long seconds, then looked up. "Can you both promise to show restraint?" she asked. "To only harm as a last resort, and to kill no one?"
"Yes," Phillip and Daring said as one.
Celestia closed her eyes for a moment, then let out a breath through her nostrils. "Then, as far as I am concerned, Charles August Silvertongue is a threat to the safety of Equestria, and because of the extraordinary circumstances, extraordinary measures are necessary." She gave everypony in the room a severe look. "Let us begin."