Canterlot's police force had a strict rule about sexual and romantic relationships between officers. Simply put, the rule was don't. Not that it ever stopped anypony. Twilight knew for a fact that at least half of the cops at the station in Canterlot were fooling around with each other. They called it harmless fun, the higher-ups would have called it a flagrant disregard for a clearly-established rule. Not Twilight doubted the higher-ups actually cared. The rule itself was mostly for show, just a bunch of words to create the illusion of professional conduct.
But the things that went on between those walls was hardly professional, at least not by the lofty standards of Canterlot society. Twilight had never been directly entangled in any of that, but only because she avoided personal relationships of any kind. If anypony at the station was interested in her either romantically or sexually, she didn't want to hear about it and they were fully aware. But Twilight doubted she'd ever caught anypony's eye. When she was at the station, she was all about work and that was about it. There was nothing alluring about her bent over her desk at two in the morning puzzling over a brutal double-murder. Twilight preferred it that way. She wasn't on the force to become the object of somepony's affection. She was there to cleanse Canterlot as best she could without ending up in a body bag. No room for casual sex, romance, or even friendship.
Twilight knocked on the closed door for the third time. She normally wouldn't be bothering anypony at this time of night—Celestia knows she understood what it was like to be jolted out of a sound sleep—but it wasn't like she had a choice. This was the do or die moment she'd been dreading since she started this case. Well, maybe not the Do or Die moment. She was probably going to have at least five more of them over the course of the investigation. But this was her chance to prove—more to herself than to anypony else—that she was willing to go the extra mile for justice.
She raised a hoof to knock again, but she paused. The windows were still dark. Was Fluttershy even home? Probably, given that it was nearing two in the morning. Not exactly a good time for a stroll around the Everfree Forest. At least the stillness gave Twilight time to think about what she was doing. Mainly she was putting somepony else in danger by dragging them into this mess of a case. But on the other hoof, wasn't that what Fluttershy had signed up for? Sure, she wasn't an officer, but she must have had some idea of what she was getting herself into.
A muffled voice at the back of Twilight's head corrected her. “No she didn't. None of them did.”
Twilight's hoof shook slightly. She hadn't actually considered the well-being of her fellow officers. They were officers. She'd been in Canterlot so long that everything seemed like a foregone conclusion. Risking one's life for the cause was in the job description.
But as Twilight reminded herself for the hundredth time since stepping hoof in this town, this wasn't Canterlot and nothing she did was going to make it Canterlot. These weren't experienced cops used to dealing with the grit and grime of a sinful city. They were still in diapers, still stuffing mushed up vegetables into their faces and drooling all over themselves. Never before had Twilight appreciated how much she'd been playing Mommy since she rolled into town. This was the pivotal moment, the point in the story where they took out their pacifiers and started walking on four hooves like all the big kids. But Twilight saw no sign of that happening.
Twilight was no parent. She didn't know what to do if a foal wasn't talking by a certain age or if a teenager came to her with some complicated popularity problem. She didn't understand how some ponies could be so perfectly nurturing, so accepting and patient. Fluttershy could do it, even Spike could do it. But Twilight just couldn't.
If there was one thing the masked pony wouldn't expect, it was Twilight seeking sanctuary with one of her friends. Mainly because she didn't have any friends. She hadn't grown close to any of her fellow officers, let alone the receptionist. Just by sheer luck of her nature, Twilight had created a flawless cover for herself, a perfect hiding place that she could use at any time. Not that she felt entirely safe. Twilight knew the masked pony would eventually catch up with her, maybe sometime in the next few hours. But as long as she stayed out of sight at Fluttershy's cottage, she had time.
Fluttershy finally answered the door, groggy and wary.
“Twilight?” she said.
The surprise in her voice cemented Twilight's decision. There was no way any rational pony would look for her here, at least not right away. Deviating from her own pre-established patterns was going to be Twilight's new strategy. This masked pony had flipped her open like a cheap paperback and read her from cover to cover. She was just words and actions to them at this point. She was predictable, or at least she had been until she showed up at Fluttershy's door. Now she was a wild card. If Twilight wasn't going to play by her own rules, the game was suddenly a lot more complicated.
“Official police business,” said Twilight. “May I come in?”
The grogginess instantly clearing from her face, Fluttershy stepped aside to let Twilight in. Maybe Twilight should have been less transparent, but she didn't want Fluttershy to think this was a courtesy call or anything like that. Technically this was official police business, right? She was the police and she had business at Fluttershy's cottage.
If Fluttershy saw Twilight's packed saddlebags, she didn't say anything about them. Twilight hadn't had much time to pack—she'd been desperate to get out of that house—but she'd rounded up the essentials. Some stuff from her lab, her phone and Spike's, some of her books. No food though. There was no way Twilight was risking it. For all she knew, everything in the house had been poisoned and she'd keel over as soon as she took a bite. That seemed like something the masked pony would do, or at the very least something they'd want Twilight to think they'd done. Either way, Twilight wasn't bringing possibly tainted food into Fluttershy's cottage.
“What happened?” said Fluttershy. “Is it Spike? Did something happen to Spike?”
Her voice rose in concern as she said his name. Twilight managed not to be too offended that Fluttershy clearly cared more about Spike than her. Twilight wasn't an easy pony to care about. With the distance she kept, sometimes she wondered if the others even saw her as a pony. Maybe she was just a machine to them, spitting out commands and charts at regular intervals. A broken A.I. that wasn't programmed for emotional responses or independent thought.
“I believe he's been kidnapped,” said Twilight.
She plopped down her saddlebags in the middle of the living room floor, seemingly oblivious to the fallout from that unexpected bombshell. But there was no use beating around the bush. Anypony who could take down and cage a dragon wasn't just a threat. They were possibly the most dangerous adversary Twilight would ever face. If they'd muzzled Spike, they were capable of anything if Twilight stepped too far out of line.
Fluttershy raised a hoof to her mouth and gasped in shock.
“Is there anything I can do?” she said. “Do I need to call somepony?”
Twilight allowed herself the faintest smile, subtle enough that Fluttershy couldn't see it. She was almost charmed by Fluttershy's willingness to help. Yet again, she realized that Fluttershy would have made a great cop if she hadn't been so timid. But maybe even Fluttershy's timid nature wasn't really an obstacle. When stuff got bad and it was time to start really caring, Fluttershy became a lot braver. It was admirable, although training in Canterlot would have been a nightmare for her. But why would Twilight even bother thinking in Canterlot terms? From a Ponyville perspective, Fluttershy was law enforcement material. She was exactly the kind of cop the force needed.
“You could call the lab in Canterlot and ask them if they've identified the body yet,” said Twilight.
She knew the time frame was too slim for the answer to be “yes”, but she had her hooves crossed. They really needed an identity. If she could find out who this victim was, that would be the most substantial lead Twilight had gotten in a very long time. Even if it turned out to be some no-name drifter, she could work off of it. She could build something. But first, Twilight needed a name.
Fluttershy trotted into the other room to place the call. It was late, but the lab in Canterlot was usually so swamped that it was never empty.
Twilight emptied the contents of her saddlebags onto the couch. She wasn't planning to sleep, so no need to worry about taking up bed space. She had bigger and better things to do than get some well-earned shut-eye. Truth be told, she was still a little angry at Spike for lying to her. Maybe it was petty and unnecessary at this stage, but she'd never taken Spike for a liar. He'd always been an honest dragon, at least with her. Why had he trampled her trust like that? Why couldn't he just get some sleep like she wanted? Twilight knew she wasn't his keeper, but up until then she thought he understood the blow she'd taken for his sake. It wasn't like she'd wanted to dismiss him. Getting those words out had been a struggle, a struggle Spike couldn't have been unaware of.
She picked up Spike's phone. She didn't like snooping, but this wasn't a normal situation. If Spike really was in trouble, he would forgive her for invading his privacy. If he wasn't, he'd still be understanding. Twilight had to get a sense of what Spike had been doing for those hours he'd been gone.
Twilight checked Spike's call log, a record of every call he'd made and received in the past twenty-four hours. She was taken aback by the amount of contacts he had on his phone. Pinkie Pie, Rarity, Rainbow Dash, even Granny Smith. Was there anypony in town whose number he didn't have? Twilight couldn't help thinking about her own contact list. Just Spike and her parents. Very few others were interested in calling her. At one time, Shining Armor had been her go-to emergency contact and she'd even had some of his friends saved on her phone. Not anymore. Shining Armor's friends had pretty much backpedaled as soon as their only bridge to Twilight collapsed.
The last call Spike had made had been roughly three hours before Twilight came home. This revelation almost made Twilight wish she'd taken invasive measures with Spike. A simple recording device on his phone so she could listen in to his calls later. It was a ridiculous and untrustworthy measure, but desperate times produced equally desperate thoughts. Twilight just wished she'd done more to ensure Spike's safety. She wished she'd seen him as he was: someone close to her, someone who could be taken and manipulated, possibly even tortured for information. Had Spike been a pipeline this entire time, unwillingly funneling information to this masked pony? Was that the missing link in this case that had slipped under Twilight's muzzle?
Rarity. Spike had called Rarity about three hours before Twilight came home. It could have been nothing. It was Rarity after all. The whole town knew about Spike's hopeless crush. But at the same time, Twilight had to admit that it was a lead. Spike wasn't the kind of dragon to just call Rarity out of the blue for a flirting session. There had to be something important about that call, something he'd mentioned or something he'd done. He would have confided in Rarity. Although they were on less than romantic terms, they had built some sort of friendship that Spike seemed to deeply appreciate. If he couldn't tell Twilight, he would have confessed anything to Rarity in a heartbeat.
Checking the rest of Spike's call log, Twilight frowned. That was weird. Spike seemed to have made several calls to an unknown number in the past twenty-four hours. They were spread out evenly throughout the day, starting soon after he left the station for his supposed rest and relaxation. Whoever this pony was, they weren't on his contact list, but they'd clearly been somepony of importance. A shopkeeper? A family member? Did Spike even have family members? Twilight got the sense dragons weren't very family-centric. She found it hard to believe that Spike had suddenly decided to give his parents a call after years of no-contact.
Twilight dialed the number and pressed the phone to her ear. Her heart pounded. She didn't know what she expected to hear. A gruff voice telling her that Spike was tied up and gagged at a warehouse? A recorded message informing her that she was out of time?
But neither of those things happened. Twilight called the number several times, but to no avail. Nopony answered. It just rang for what seemed like hours, the sound growing more and more grating until she finally just had to stop. Of course it couldn't be that simple. If she was going to get anywhere, she'd have to trace the number. She doubted she'd get an exact address, but at least she could zero in on the approximate location. It wasn't the number itself that stirred distrust in her stomach. It was the sheer volume of calls. Over ten in a single day. Sometimes one after the other, as if Spike had hung up to check something and then hastily called again to continue the conversation. That seemed to suggest something one-sided, as if it was always Spike who initiated these conversations. This comfortably ruled out the idea of harassment or anything like that. This was a voluntary arrangement Spike had created, but why had Twilight been left out of the loop? Was this even something to do with the case or had Spike gotten himself entangled in something shady?
Fluttershy returned to the living room. She had a tray of tea and scones. Twilight would have said she shouldn't have, but she was so hungry that she didn't bother. Tea and scones seemed like the perfect post-midnight snack. Coffee would have been better, but Twilight was in no position to be picky. Her stomach was already riled up by the sight of the food.
“What did the lab say?” said Twilight.
Fluttershy repeated exactly what the pony who answered the phone had told her.
“Male, probably never did hard labor in his life, the body of an actor,” said Fluttershy. “Judging by his build, he seems to be from Manehattan.”
Twilight considered this new information. An actor from Manehattan? That wasn't very specific or helpful. A lot of ponies were from Manehattan and over half of them were actors, singers, etc. The city was known for its thriving theater community. It was the place ambitious young ponies went to try their luck at the stage, although most of them ended up with bit parts in mediocre films or plays. It was hardly the hive of artistry some ponies made it out to be.
“Did they have a name?” she said. “An occupation? A place of residence?”
Fluttershy blushed.
“I'm sorry,” she said. “I probably should have told you that the lab was contacted by the family of the deceased. Well, actually the police force in Canterlot were alerted of a missing pony case and the family was called to identify the body.”
Twilight's eyes lit up. After days trapped at the bottom of a well, was Fate finally throwing her a ladder?
“And who is this mysterious pony somepony decided to use as a greeting card?” she said.
Fluttershy spoke triumphantly, like she was delivering the best news Twilight could ask for.
“His name is Bronze Hoof,” she said. “Apparently he was engaged to marry somepony named Holly, but he vanished before the ceremony. His family assumed he'd gotten cold hooves, so they took their time filing a missing pony report. His family lives in Canterlot, so the police force over there got a copy of the report.”
Twilight stared at Fluttershy. It wasn't fair. What gave this case the right to keep throwing curve balls at her? Everything seemed so isolated, so wrapped up in itself. No matter how far she strayed, it always came back to something she'd heard or seen before. Holly. Twilight recognized the name instantly, her mind calling up the memory almost independent of her will.
Raven's sister. So this was the mysterious stallion who'd supposedly bailed on the wedding in Manehattan. Although Twilight was beginning to wonder just how much of Bronze Hoof's disappearance had been intentional on his part. Had this poor stallion been taken, snatched from his home with the knowledge that his apparently bad reputation and the circumstances of his engagement would provide a flawless cover-up?
Twilight felt sorry for the poor guy. He hadn't asked to be killed and then strung up like some tasteless decoration. He hadn't asked to be a spectacle, displayed like an art piece in front of a bunch of strangers in some town he'd probably never visited. It was just bad luck. Maybe it wouldn't have happened if he wasn't known as the type of pony who would leave his bride at the altar, but he still didn't deserve such a fate. However, Twilight quickly shook away the pointless sentimentality. Deserving or not, a stallion was dead and now he had a name.
“Could you give Raven a call?” said Twilight. “I need to ask her some more questions about that wedding.”
Fluttershy looked at the clock.
“Um, it's almost three in the morning,” she said.
Twilight waved her hoof dismissively. There was no time to worry about sparing feelings or being polite. Spike was missing and Twilight finally had something. She might have evaded the masked pony for now, but she felt like they were standing right behind her. She could almost feel their breath on her neck.
“Tell her it's important police business,” said Twilight. “If she refuses, tell her I can send a few officers to her home and have her detained for obstructing justice.”
With a nod, Fluttershy scurried off to make the call.
Twilight eyed the tray of uneaten scones and tea that had gotten cold a while ago. Sweet Celestia. She was really hungry. She was surprised her stomach hadn't sprouted hooves and leaped out of her body. Now that she had given Fluttershy something important to do, Twilight was ready to take a break and get some food in her belly. Twilight was feeling more like a guest than an invader.
She picked up one of the scones and lifted it to her mouth. Her mouth almost watered at the smell. Even though they were no longer steaming hot from the oven, they still looked and smelled like the best thing Twilight would ever taste. Was that a hint of cinnamon? Fluttershy was spoiling her. Well, Twilight more than deserved to be pampered a little after the horror she'd endured not very long ago.
Fluttershy re-entered the room, an apologetic look on her face.
“Um, Raven didn't answer her phone, so...,” she started.
Twilight jumped off the couch, her sudden movement startling Fluttershy. Screw it. She wasn't going to hide in Fluttershy's cottage like there was death lurking behind every corner. That had never been her style and she saw no reason to adopt it. She was Twilight Sparkle, for Celestia's sake. She'd tackled murderers, braved the horrors of booby-trapped warehouses, looked dangerous felons right in the eye as they were dragged off for sentencing. Sure, she'd flinched when a knife narrowly missed her ear and felt the terror rise in her throat when some fiend got a cord around her neck. But she'd always been focused on her pursuit of justice, even as stars burst in her eyes or a droplet of blood ran down her cheek. It was the felons who should have been running for their lives, not Twilight Sparkle.
Nevertheless, she felt the need to shout over her shoulder as she left Fluttershy's cottage.
“I'll call you in about an hour,” said Twilight. “If I don't, assume the worst. Have all available officers dispatched to the library as soon as possible.”
Twilight was used to having some kind of back-up. She hadn't realized how much she missed it. It was nice having someone she could rely on. Twilight's stomach clenched as she realized how much she'd taken Spike's help for granted. Had he ever resented her? If he had, he'd never said it out loud. But that wasn't really the kind of thing Spike would have said, even if it was how he truly felt. And Twilight had never asked, too secure in what their relationship seemed to be.
Twilight clenched her teeth. She was going to find Spike. Dead or alive. The two seemed rather interchangeable at this point. She certainly would have preferred finding him alive and at least relatively unharmed, but Twilight would have taken either. Both were better than not knowing.
After the academy, Twilight had to get used to the badge. It wasn't the responsibility that gave her pause. It was how ponies treated her once they found out that the shut-in bookworm was now a cop. The difference in behavior was mostly subtle, but Twilight was observant enough to pick it up. The wary glances, the conspiratorial whispers, the anxiety present in the eyes of nearly every shopkeeper. They all knew who she was and what she was capable of now that she had the law to back her up. She was no longer just Twilight Sparkle, the pony who always knew when somepony's marriage was about to go down in flames due to an affair. She was Detective Twilight Sparkle, the pony whose uncanny ability to read someone's thoughts was likely to result in an arrest. In many ways, it was an improvement. Twilight didn't need to be invisible in order to achieve that isolation and peace she craved. All she had to do was flash the badge once and nopony wanted to mess with her.
But she did sometimes wonder if Shining Armor had been right. He'd often told her that police work wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Although he'd been fortunate to find love in the form of Twilight's former babysitter, he'd often complained about how grueling and lonely the work actually was.
“When you're out there patrolling, you feel like you don't have a friend in the world,” he'd said. “Everypony thinks you're going to bust them for something. Even if they haven't done anything wrong, they're afraid of you.”
It had driven him to drink and—in a move that Twilight had never expected from her outgoing brother—somewhat withdraw into himself. Meeting Cadence had saved him from becoming, well, like a more miserable version of Twilight. Cadence was the light in his life, his one reprise from the hordes of ponies who were wary of his presence. Sure, Shining Armor had his sister, his parents, and maybe one or two fellow officers who understood his struggles. But it was Cadence who gave him the hope he needed to go on. She gave him everything he'd ever wanted and he in return opened up in a way that he'd never done before. They were partners, friends, and lovers.
Twilight pounded her hoof on the library door, resisting the urge to shout out that cliché line. Should she have been a little more discreet given the nature of her business and the time? Yes. Did she give a flying feather anymore? No. It was time to get down to business. In fact, it had been that time since she'd first stepped hoof into her own home. But she'd been completely unaware of it, her senses dulled by the utter insanity of this case. Twilight should have realized that something was wrong within seconds, should have leaped into action the moment that fateful dread prickled her fur. It was like falling into a coffin.
Her heart clenched at the thought. Coffin. Yes, he'd have to be buried. Unlike most dragons, he'd actually get a real funeral. Flowers, bereaved loved ones, a fireproof coffin studded with the finest gemstones, a wonderful service and reception attended by all of his friends. Maybe Twilight would be asked to make a speech. She'd do it without a second thought, a stirring few paragraphs about how Spike had been the best friend a pony could ever ask for and how his struggles had made him stronger. But although Twilight could outline the actual details in her head, she wasn't sure about his parents. Was he on good or bad terms with his family? Would any of them be willing to attend a lavish service arranged by a pony they probably didn't even know about?
I never asked, Twilight realized.
She told herself that it was because Spike always liked to do the talking or because it had never been relevant to their relationship. But that wasn't it. It was simply that Twilight had never thought to ask Spike about his family. She'd certainly given him enough information about her own family and history, yet never thought to ask about his.
Twilight hammered her hoof against the door again, trying to drown out her own thoughts. But the repetitive banging wasn't enough. Twilight was still imagining finding Spike's mutilated corpse in a ditch somewhere. No, not a ditch. That was too crude for the masked pony. They'd try to make a spectacle out of Spike's death, turn him into some macabre display. They'd turn him into a taunt.
A groggy-looking Raven finally answered the door. She was rubbing her eyes and squinting at whatever lunatic was trying to break down her door this late at night.
“Twilight?” she said. “What in the name of Celestia?”
Having no time for explanations, Twilight pushed past Raven and trotted into the library. The rudeness was unintended, but she was eager to get indoors again. She'd started to feel as if somepony was watching her. Her fur had begun to prickle in a way that seemed horribly familiar. Normally she would have taken this in stride—it was part of the job—but she'd been extra-jumpy that night. Every sound sent a jolt of fear through her body.
“I'm afraid I have some bad news about the body,” said Twilight.
Raven took a minute to remember what Twilight was talking about—she was still partially in dreamland—but eventually her face filled with comprehension. She still wasn't too happy about Twilight getting her out of bed before Celestia raised the sun, but she was intrigued.
Twilight told her everything, although she left out the part about staying at Fluttershy's cottage. The fewer ponies who knew, the better. Ponies in this town loved to talk, especially about stuff that wasn't their business. Telling one pony was like alerting the entire town of her whereabouts.
Raven pressed a hoof to her mouth. She wasn't crying, but then again Twilight had gotten the impression that Raven didn't really like her future brother-in-law. The look on her face when she'd mentioned him probably running off with one of the bridesmares had said it all. But if there'd been a mutual dislike between them, what in the name of Celestia had he been doing in Ponyville? If the postmortem was to be believed, it seemed he'd come there of his own free will, partaken in some poisoned food by somepony he trusted, and been turned into a macabre art piece. Contrary to the norm, the more Twilight learned about the victim the less she understood the course of events.
Could it have been Raven? The pieces of the puzzle fit together with such ease that Twilight had trouble doubting it. Maybe Raven had invited Bronze Hoof to Ponyville, claiming she intended to make amends with him. Of course he would trust his future sister-in-law and want to make peace for the sake of his wife-to-be. Raven could have poisoned him and then strung him up like a decoration. It was a crime Twilight had seen hundreds of times before. Jealous sibling, daring plot to get the unworthy spouse out of the way. It was like something from a true crime novel.
The problem was that it made no sense in the grand scheme of things. As an isolated case, Twilight had no doubt. It wasn't as if Raven was a professional or anything. This clumsy plan was right in line with her character. But as a tiny spot of paint on a huge canvas? There was no way Twilight could believe it all led back to a small town librarian's quest for revenge. This wasn't even a small crime inside a big crime. This was a minuscule crime inside of an enormous one. It was too perfect. It didn't take a lot of sniffing for Twilight to smell a set-up. The air around her reeked of it. Believable crime, believable culprit, perfect circumstances. Even some of those pesky inconsistencies could be explained away.
But if it wasn't Raven, who? Was the murder random or was there something more to it? Was this murder even connected to everything else, or had the masked pony capitalized on it somehow? Had Raven poisoned Bronze Hoof and the masked pony had done the rest? Did that mean the masked pony and Raven knew each other?
“When was the last time you saw Bronze Hoof?” said Twilight.
Raven lowered her hoof. Her shock looked pretty genuine, although there was no remorse in her eyes. But if the alternative was jail time, any pony could mask their emotions like they'd done it a thousand times before. Twilight had encountered dozens of killers who were capable of playing innocent until Twilight's iron grip on the truth squeezed a confession out of them.
“Um, a few months ago,” Raven said. “I went up to Manehattan to have dinner with him and my sister. That was the first time I actually met him. I didn't like him at all the first time I saw him. He kept staring at the waitress, although I don't think Holly noticed. He was disgusting.”
Even though she knew he was dead, Raven did nothing to hide the disdain in her voice. So she definitely hadn't been a fan. She'd probably made that clear to Holly at every turn, but her sister had ignored the warnings. Pretty good motive—relatively speaking—for murder. If Holly wasn't going to accept that she was marrying a scumbag, it didn't seem far-fetched that Raven would have taken things into her own hooves. Twilight knew what it was like to feel like the only option was the most extreme one when it came to siblings. But had Raven actually done it? If so, why wasn't she at least pretending that her and Bronze Hoof had been friends? Why wasn't she faking remorse? That just didn't add up and Twilight wasn't sure what to make of it. Was Raven being clever or did she have nothing to hide?
“So you didn't see him the day of the wedding?” said Twilight.
She was trying to zero in on the time frame. Had Bronze Hoof even been in Manehattan while the wedding was going on?
“Nopony saw him,” said Raven. “We all assumed he was in the changing tent or something. No matter where he'd run off to, we all thought he'd be there for the ceremony. We never thought he'd be so cowardly.”
Twilight closed her eyes and thought. This could mean a lot of things. Maybe he'd been in Manehattan, maybe he hadn't. If he hadn't, had he been in Ponyville? If so, why? How had he ended up in a situation that led to his death? Given what she knew about his character, it could have been any number of things. But if Twilight had to narrow it down, she would have guessed it was a mare. He would be the type of stallion to trust immediately if a pretty face was involved. The rest would have come naturally. The problem was that this didn't help Twilight revise her list of possible culprits. Ponyville wasn't exactly teeming with seductresses.
“Did Bronze Hoof have any female friends?” said Twilight.
Raven let out a bitter laugh.
“No, but I'm sure he was seeing somepony on the side,” she said.
Twilight reached into her saddlebag and pulled out a notebook. She tore a page from the notebook and slid it across the table to Raven.
“I'll need the names of everypony who was at that wedding,” she said.
She didn't expect Raven to remember them all. Even Twilight would have struggled with putting names to faces and vice versa if there'd been a huge turn-out. But from their very first meeting, Raven had struck Twilight as observant. Perhaps she noticed things, likely without really being aware that she had. Anypony Raven wrote on that list must have been important, must have stood out to her in some way. It wasn't perfect, but it was a good start. When she got back to Fluttershy's cottage, the real research could begin. By the end of the day, Twilight was going to know everything there was to know about Bronze Hoof. His parents, his siblings, his close relatives, the name of his first pet, what he'd eaten for breakfast two days before he died. No stone left unturned, no archive left unexplored, no small detail left undisturbed. Twilight really hoped Bronze Hoof didn't have any particularly gross deep dark secrets. She was about to crawl inside his head and dig out every embarrassing memory from high school, every awkward first date, and every guilty binge he had to his name.
However, Twilight's mood suddenly plunged. This was nice and all. In fact, it was fantastic and it made Twilight feel like dancing. She wasn't naive enough to think she was several steps ahead of the masked pony, but she was confident enough to believe she had a chance. But none of it was going to matter if she didn't find Spike.
Raven slid the torn notebook page back over to Twilight, an apologetic smile on her face.
“Sorry, I never saw the guest list,” she said. “I know there were some ponies who didn't show up, but I added them anyway. Is that okay?”
Maintaining her composure, Twilight nodded.
The list was pretty impressive for a rush job. The hoofwriting was neat, each name perfectly legible and occupying its own line. There were stars drawn next to certain names. Those must have been the ponies who didn't show up. Efficient and easy to read. Raven could have snagged a desk job at the station if she'd wanted to. She might not have had the skills to be a cop, but that didn't seem to have stopped over half of Ponyville's police force. She seemed to be well-read—a rarity for Ponyville citizens—and Twilight suspected she had a good memory. Those things alone qualified her to be running the station, based on the unfortunate standards set by the local police force. But Twilight was also kind of glad that Raven wasn't a cop. She seemed just a little too frail, but without the initiative Fluttershy displayed that would have made up for it.
While Raven made them some cocoa, Twilight went over the list. She couldn't tell much by names alone—even though ponies tended to have pretty specific names—but she could speculate. Silver Hoof—he was at the top of the list—was probably Bronze Hoof's older brother. Maybe that was why Bronze Hoof had been seeking validation through copious amounts of coitus. “Silver Hoof” seemed like a hard act to follow. Their parents should have given a little more thought to those names.
Sparrow. Probably Raven and Holly's mother. Twilight wondered what Sparrow had thought of Bronze Hoof. Had she liked him, disliked him, both? Had she attended the wedding because she supported her daughter's decision or out of obligation? None of this stuff seemed to matter, but Twilight needed to see this case from every angle. If the murder really was unrelated to everything else, Twilight needed to treat it like it was a separate case altogether.
The rest was just as standard. Relatives, friends, relatives of friends. None of the names leaped out at Twilight, but why would they? She hadn't even known about the wedding until she started this case. But at the same time, she was fishing for a connection. Something that tied all of this to her or Shining Armor. However, she wasn't getting it from this list. It was just a guest list for a wedding and nothing more. Even the ponies who'd apparently chosen not to attend weren't very interesting. Judging by the names alone, Twilight suspected they were just some disgruntled aunts or uncles who'd backed out at the last minute. Nothing extraordinary there.
Raven placed a cup of steaming cocoa in front of Twilight.
“Work hard, drink more,” she said.
Her eyes still on the list, Twilight raised the cup and took a swig from it. She paused, the cup hovering inches from her mouth. Holy Celestia, that was some good cocoa. She'd had a lot of cocoa in her life, but this was something altogether unique. The rich chocolate taste was undercut with something delightfully bittersweet. Twilight found herself taking another swig from it without even thinking, her entire body rapidly warming up and her tiredness melting away.
By the time she finished the cup, she felt rejuvenated. Suddenly she believed she could do almost anything. Find Spike, catch a murderer, wrap up this case by the end of the week. What had she been so worried about this entire time? Twilight had been running from shadows. The darkness couldn't hurt her, provided she remembered to light up her horn. This was the high Twilight had been looking for this whole time. The bravery, the determination, the bliss. Twilight couldn't believe she'd been slacking off like that, forgetting what was truly important and why she'd become a cop in the first place.
“What was in that cocoa?” said Twilight.
Raven winked.
“Secret family recipe,” she said.
Twilight guessed that meant alcohol. Strong stuff. She'd never felt this good after a drink, alcoholic or otherwise. Even the coffee hadn't done this much for her mood or her energy levels. This explained how Raven was able to get used to Ponyville after living in Canterlot for so long. The answer had always been a stiff drink. Maybe the entire population was drunk 24/7. That would explain everything.
“I'd better get back to work,” said Twilight.
As much as she wanted to, she couldn't spend the next few hours boozing with Raven. There was work to be done. She had names. Good. The next step was to turn each of those names into detailed profiles. Twilight needed to create her first real map of suspects.
She took the list with her. She was going to have to cross-check it with an official guest list, but it was pretty good for a start.
Canterlot citizens assumed that Twilight knew everything about everypony. Well, they were right. With the information pools Twilight had access to, she had knowledge of every single Canterlot citizen at the tip of her hooves. If Lucky Lace or Fancy Pants ever so much as shoplifted a stick of gum, Twilight Sparkle knew about it. It wasn't just criminal records. She had all kinds of dirt on all kinds of ponies. But contrary to typical city paranoia, most of it was irrelevant to her. Why should she give a flying feather if some heiress cheated on her spouse or some rich guy got his mistress pregnant? It might have been incredibly scummy and shady, but to Twilight it was just drama. Her lust for information was strictly academic. She wasn't in the habit of spreading rumors.
It was Spike who always kept his ears open to the latest gossip. He actually cared about who was having an affair and who was secretly pregnant. He never spread rumors, but he did always have something new and interesting to tell Twilight every single day.
Twilight actually missed Spike passing on juicy bits of gossip. Sure, she didn't care about any of that stuff. But it did give her days some semblance of flavor. When all she had to focus on was a double equicide, sometimes she welcomed some mindless second-hoof drama. It was inane, but it made the days a little bit easier. Twilight could remind herself that not everything going on in the city was grisly violence and thievery. Sometimes it was a pair of young lovers eloping against the wishes of their feuding families.
Twilight knocked twice on the door of Fluttershy's cottage. She would have just gone in, but the door was locked. That was another reason she'd chosen Fluttershy. Out of all the ponies in this town, Fluttershy was the only one who actually locked her door. Hardly necessary in a place like Ponyville, or at least Twilight would have been amused by this set-up less than a week ago. Now that Twilight knew what was hiding in the shadows, she fully endorsed Fluttershy's caution. Not that she thought locked doors and windows were enough to stop the masked pony. But it did make Twilight feel just a little bit safer.
The door opened a crack. Fluttershy's eye appeared in the minuscule opening.
“Twilight, is that you?” she said.
Twilight suppressed a groan. Of course Fluttershy was actually exercising extreme caution. She couldn't fault her for that, right? Fluttershy was actually following standard safety protocol for this type of situation. Unfortunately, this also made her an unexpected pain in Twilight's flank.
“Yes, it's me,” she said. “Could you please let me in?”
They really should have worked out some kind of password or hoof signal. Maybe a series of gestures. If their positions had been reversed, Twilight would have been just as wary. In fact, she probably would have been even more cautious. Twilight was actually relieved that she hadn't told Fluttershy the full story. She could hardly imagine how terrified Fluttershy would have been if she knew the lengths this masked pony had gone to for a good scare.
Fluttershy eventually opened the door, but only after a whole two minutes of hesitation. She must have decided that it probably wasn't the masked pony doing an admirable Twilight impression. Nopony could fake that trademark impatience. Granted, it was still a gamble on Fluttershy's part. It could have been a changeling or some kind of illusion spell. But what were the chances? Actually pretty high, but Fluttershy had already let Twilight inside, so there wasn't much she could do about it.
“I need all the information about Bronze Hoof you can find,” said Twilight. “Also see if you can find the guest list for Holly's wedding.”
Fluttershy blushed, nervously playing with her mane. She looked like a schoolfilly who wasn't sure if she was in trouble or not. Twilight knew from experience that a lot of stallions and some mares found this endearing. She kind of understood why. That unabashed vulnerability definitely had its appeal.
Twilight herself wasn't into it, but she could see how that doe-eyed look might be considered attractive. Fluttershy just looked like the kind of pony who could tell no lies. Twilight had met a lot of ponies like this and usually their timid nature was just a performance, an act she never fell for. But she could tell that Fluttershy wasn't playing a part. She was every bit as timid as she looked. Twilight had to admire that. The city ended up breaking everypony sooner or later. But in an innocent town like Ponyville, there was no need to break anypony. Some ponies—like Twilight—were just broken when they arrived. Some ponies—like Fluttershy—managed to keep themselves whole.
“I, um, kind of did all that already,” said Fluttershy. “I thought you might need the information and you weren't here to ask and...”
She swallowed hard, her cheeks turning an even darker shade of red.
“I'm not fired, am I?” she said.
Twilight considered all the reasons she could fire almost any of her fellow officers. Incompetence was a big one. Being the cause of every angry outburst she'd ever had in the past few years was pretty high on the list. Leaving confetti bombs in her desk drawers was also up there, but that was strictly a Pinkie Pie offense. Technically Twilight shouldn't have had the authority to hand out pink slips. But by some stroke of misfortune, she was the most senior member of the local force. If she'd wanted to, she could have fired all of them. But as much as she disliked working with most of them, she doubted the next batch would be any better. Maybe she could get some ponies from Canterlot or Manehattan, but that would take a lot of time and effort. Nopony who'd made their mark in the city wanted to downgrade to a place like Ponyville.
“No,” said Twilight.
As if she would have considered it. Even if Fluttershy had set off a paint grenade in her office, she still would have been one of the most competent members of the force.
“Criminal record?” said Twilight.
Fluttershy shuffled some papers on the coffee table. She smiled to herself. By some stroke of luck, she was actually good at this. Maybe she was trying to show off because this was the first murder investigation she'd been involved in. Maybe something about Twilight's presence inspired her. Whatever the reason, Fluttershy had recently learned that she knew all the archives like the back of her hoof. She hadn't exactly memorized all of them, but she did seem to know where to look.
“A single breaking and entering charge,” said Fluttershy. “He did a little time for it, but that was about it.”
Her brain going into overdrive, Twilight started pacing. Yes, there was a chance she'd handled some mundane breaking and entering case back in Canterlot. So what? Cases like that were minuscule compared to the messed up stuff she'd had to deal with every week. Breaking and entering was hardly a blip on the radar.
“What about his associates?” said Twilight. “Anything there? Some criminal connection?”
Fluttershy brandished a folder triumphantly. Getting her hooves on that hadn't been easy. The actual file was probably buried somewhere in the Canterlot archives. She'd had to put her own together using whatever bits and pieces had slipped through the cracks. In the end, Fluttershy had created a pretty thorough file of her own in a remarkably short amount of time. She wondered if receptionists could be promoted.
“He had a fling with some model in Canterlot,” said Fluttershy. “Cherry Blush. She spent some time in jail for....”
Twilight stopped pacing. Cherry Blush? Sweet Celestia. She hadn't heard that name in years. They were all just names at the end of the day. Not even faces and words anymore, just names to fill out a seemingly never-ending list of Canterlot's sinners.
Sometimes a case made such an impression that it evolved into a creature of its own. It became bigger than the facts, bigger than the trial, bigger than the evidence, bigger than how it had set the media circuit ablaze. Those were the cases Twilight was never going to forget. The Cherry Blush case had been so small at first, so straightforward. But over time, it had turned into something that had forever twisted and warped Twilight's opinion of herself. She'd gotten back on track at some point, but she'd never fully recovered from the aftermath.
“Attempted theft,” said Twilight. “She broke into Canterlot University's museum and tried to steal some valuable artifacts, but she was apprehended by the security team.”
The confession had sealed it, but Twilight hadn't really needed one to build her case. She had piles of evidence to work with: witness testimonies, fur samples, financial records. As if all of that wasn't enough, Cherry Blush had an extensive criminal record that she'd dropped thousands of bits to cover up. She'd managed to wriggle out of the charges every time, evading a well-earned stint in jail at every turn. But this time she'd been caught red-hoofed. Bits of her fur at the scene, at least three witnesses claiming they'd seen her enter the museum after hours, and financial records that indicated she was struggling. Even those closest to her believed she was desperate enough to have orchestrated a clumsy failed robbery.
In the end, Cherry Blush's already weak defense had nowhere to go. She was completely sandbagged. After weeks of claiming it was a misunderstanding, Cherry Blush finally confessed, complete with full details of how she'd been planning to carry out the robbery.
“She was sentenced to five years, but she only lasted two months,” said Twilight. “She escaped one night and disappeared. We found blood-stained scraps of her uniform and bits of her mane about a mile from the prison. Since we never found the body, her death was never officially confirmed, but the public record considers her deceased.”
Fluttershy nodded, a solemn expression on her face.
“It's really sad,” she said.
Twilight held back a bitter laugh. Sad? That was an understatement, although Fluttershy couldn't have known. Even though those vultures in the media had been all over the case, most of the public had never found out the truth. Why would anypony bother? The case was done and dead. As far as the public was concerned, any important piece of information had died with Cherry Blush. Her story was tragic, but it was just another case of a fallen star burning out before she hit the ground. Nopony had time to stop and ask questions after the fact. Except Twilight. Twilight always made time for more questions.
What convinced her to take another look at the Cherry Blush case? She'd asked herself that question over and over again, but the answer was never satisfying. Maybe it was a hunch, some idea buried in the heart of an unanswered question. Loose ends were Twilight's weakness. If everything wasn't tied up neatly in the end, she'd play with the bow until the whole thing unraveled. In this case, Twilight saw a minuscule crack in the foundation and immediately tried to force her hoof through it. By the time she'd widened it enough to see inside, it was clear that Twilight had made a mistake. But it was too late for her to make amends, too late for her to apologize to the pony she'd wronged. Cherry Blush was already gone, either dead or somewhere so far away that Twilight's guilt would never reach her.
But the case had seemed so airtight. There had never been a doubt in Twilight's mind that Cherry Blush was guilty. But then again, wasn't everything airtight until someone poked a hole in it?
“Anything else?” said Twilight.
She asked anyway, even though she already knew there wouldn't be anything else. Fluttershy had found the heart of this murder. Just like everything else in this case, it all came back to Twilight. Also just like everything else in this case, it didn't tell Twilight what she actually needed to know. It was like she was trotting in a circle, always returning to that one point no matter how far out she went. There was definitely a starting point, but it kept moving.
To her surprise, Fluttershy had one more thing to show her.
“It doesn't have anything to do with Bronze Hoof or Cherry Blush,” she said. “But I think it might be related to Spike.”
Twilight's ears perked up. Now that was something to lift her spirits. She wasn't sure about getting to the meat of this case and uncovering the masked pony's identity, but finding Spike was something she could do. Her track record for finding missing ponies—and also missing zebras, dragons, etc.--was pretty impressive. It usually came down to bypassing nearly everything she'd been told at the academy and using her own tried-and-true methods.
“Spike's phone buzzed while you were away,” said Fluttershy. “I didn't think anything of it at first, but then I remembered that he was missing.”
Before Fluttershy had even finished her sentence, Twilight was already lunging across the room and grabbing Spike's phone. She'd almost forgotten that she had it. It seemed like years ago that she'd been combing it for clues. No wonder she hardly remembered taking it. Why had she just left it at Fluttershy's cottage? It was her only physical connection to Spike. Twilight could feel his little dragon heart pumping through it. It was the strength of this imagined heartbeat that convinced her he was still alive.
Her hooves shaking, Twilight went through Spike's missed calls. There was a single entry at the top. A single missed call within the past hour. To her surprise, it wasn't the unknown number she'd seen before. This was somepony else. Somepony who might know something.
Twilight dialed the number, then raised the phone to her ear. This was it. The moment of truth, as ponies liked to say. But which truth was Twilight hoping for? Obviously she wanted Spike to be alive and well, maybe slightly injured or dazed but ultimately unharmed. It was the best she could hope for. But at the same time, she had a sick feeling in her stomach. Why would any sane pony worry about Spike? His scales could withstand an explosion, for Celestia's sake. But maybe that was why Twilight worried about him. Spike never looked at himself from the outside. He didn't see his vulnerabilities.
After a few tense seconds, somepony finally picked up. When Twilight heard that tell-tale click, followed by a slight intake of breath, it was like she'd found salvation after centuries of sin. Ponies from a bygone era had called this “following Celestia's light”. Twilight finally knew what it felt like to be swept up in the warmth of Celestia's sun.
“Hello?” said a voice.
The normality of the voice caught Twilight off guard. She'd expected something surreal or frightening, like a raspy growl from her nightmares. She'd expected the voice to drag her into a world of torment unlike any she'd ever faced. But whoever was on the other end, it wasn't an otherworldly abomination.
“This is Detective Twilight Sparkle,” she said. “Who is this?”
She kept her voice steady, adopting an authoritative tone to hide her nervousness. Despite the confidence in her voice, she mentally kicked herself. Why in Tartarus had she just announced her name and title like that? Twilight could have said anything, but she'd opted for the most conspicuous. In her experience, wrong-doers tended to bolt when they caught a whiff of a badge. Fuck. It only took one slip-up to ruin a dragon's life.
“Twilight?” said the voice.
Twilight froze. No, it hadn't been the normality of the voice that caught her off guard. She'd told herself that in the moment, but it had been something else. It had been the familiarity of the voice that briefly stumped her. She'd ignored it because it aligned so poorly with what she believed to do be true. But now Twilight realized that she'd been wrong. Maybe she'd been wrong since the very beginning. Maybe she'd been wrong since the moment she stepped hoof in Ponyville.
“Spike?” she whispered.
There was a very brief pause.
“Yes, it's me,” he said. “Are you okay? Where are you? Are you at the station?”
Twilight wanted to answer all of Spike's questions. She wanted to break down crying like a newborn. She wanted to throw the phone across the room. She wanted to reach through the phone and throttle Spike for worrying her half to death. Twilight wanted to do and say a thousand different things all at once. But her world was spinning so fast that she was afraid she might vomit. She could feel everything she'd eaten that day—maybe everything she'd ever eaten—heaving around her stomach like it was trying to escape. Twilight felt like she was going to bend over and empty her guts all over Fluttershy's clean floor. But instead she spoke a single sentence, the only words that could escape from the mess inside her brain.
“I'm sorry about the food,” said Twilight.
She let out what she meant to be a laugh, but it sounded more like a sob. Maybe Ponyville had broken her, but it had taken years for her to realize it.