//------------------------------//
// The One Who Eats the Tail Pt 3 
// Story: These City Walls 
// by KitsuneRisu 
//------------------------------//


These City Walls Chapter 2: The One Who Eats the Tail, Part 3




In the depths of the night stalked a creature beyond recognition. A manner of beast so foul as to cause children to shudder in their horseshoes and elderly women to run screaming for their lives at an incredibly slow pace. This beast had a name.

It also had a silly helmet.

Because, honestly, if something red and shiny came right at you in the middle of the night, you’re going to be a little shocked, at least until you realise it’s just a police officer with some irregular headgear. Most ponies didn’t bother to stick around enough to find out, especially not the ponies who lived at the rather upper-class Spiffington Estates, a gated community founded on one of the upper tiers of Canterlot. Everything was ‘up’ about this place, from the noses in the air to the general brow level of its citizens.

They were all, understandably, a bit on edge at the moment as well. News travelled fast in closed-off societies, and with the addition of the latest news reports, the two murders weren’t making anypony feel safe or secure.

It was three in the morning, that Wednesday, when Berry finally made it to the estates after taking care of other business. Quick Silver, the precinct’s do-everything pony, trotted behind. Both of them were carrying bags stuffed with supplies; the guards at the front gates did not allow Silver’s Cart to be flown in.

It would mess up the lawns, they said.

Berry thought they had far more worrisome things to be caring about, but order and ruling was a way for ponies to keep hold of the last remaining bits of comfort they had left, Canary taught her once, and she had to excuse them for having waylaid priorities.

Berry found it easy to excuse others. Silver, on the other hoof, was quietly grumbling to herself as she hoisted her heavy load.

Together they walked down the narrow, winding cobblestone street that snaked its way through lavish and trim yards. Smaller, flat stones set into the ground flew off the body of the main path, connecting the walkway to front doors. Berry felt like the whole estate was somepony’s pet garden project, and they went a little bit too far.

But what Silver said back at the station was right. It was pretty obvious which house had been the victim’s. Even in the blanket of night that fell over the houses, the heavy reds that painted the side of the wall of the 7th house on the left made it quite clear where most of the action took place, as Berry and Silver made their way towards it.

“Ok, Silver… ah…” Berry turned off her helmet as they reached the front of the house. She was not at all comfortable at the current moment. Usually, Canary would be around to give instructions or allow her to give instructions. Now, she was all alone, and she was taking point over a pony who was her superior by a few ranks.

“Um…”

“Yeah boss?” asked Silver, grinning.

“Uh… guess you could…”

“What am I ta’ do, boss?”

“Uh…”

“Hey, tell ya what, Rebs. I’m gonna go set up some bound’ry lines, put up th’ lights, all that stuff, an’ you go do your stuff, we both do our stuff, baddabing, baddaboom. S’good?”

“Yeah, yeah. That sounds good.” Berry nodded, looking guilty for her hesitation.

“Hey, Rebs. Relax, buddy. We all gotcha back, y’know that, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, Silver. Thanks,” she returned a weak smile, letting her haunches drop. She was glad that it was Silver who was working with her; at least they had a level of familiarity, even though most of it was Silver taking delight in her awkwardness.

But here she was, at the scene of a particularly horrific crime, and she was all alone. She closed her eyes, a cold chill trembling through her, as she started to recall all her training in the frosty night air.

First. Canvassing.

Canvassing was simple enough – a quick cursory glance at the surroundings before delving into the thick of it; like tasting the garnish before attacking the delicious centrepiece of your dinner plate. Take note of your environment. Sometimes, the environment can tell you more about the scene than the actual scene does.

Well, everything was pretty standard, for one of these sorts of communities. The houses were fairly close together, only allowing space for more garden, and there weren’t even any fences separating them apart. Curtains were drawn shut, and all lights were off, normal for this time of night.

But you could tell, from the sway of the curtains and the way things felt, that behind those closed doors, someone was watching. Ponies always watched ponies in these kind of places, and there was not a single shred of doubt that she was being watched right now.

Everything else outside of the crime scene was just a mirror of the house opposite, right down to the individual blades of grass. Nothing was out of place, nothing special about the house, nothing at all that would draw unneeded attention.

Canary always said that location was everything when choosing a crime scene. While it was a fact that a criminal chooses a location specifically for his or her crime, so too can that location tell you about the criminal.

So, Berry, what have you got? You have a wide open space, easily accessible, in plain view. You also know that the crime occurred sometime the night before, in the evening or the late evening. There was nothing special about the place, which meant one of two things – either the target was extremely specific, or extremely random.

But out here, where everypony could see you… it didn’t seem like the smartest choice for a random killing. It must have been deliberate, right? That would seem to suggest that this crime was in fact linked with the one that happened earlier, something that, really, was a giveaway by this point. But Berry was happy to have deduced something all by herself, no matter how obvious it might be.

But still, something was rather off about the whole deal. Something that Berry herself couldn't quite narrow down. But perhaps it was enough of this for the time being - there were more dire things to take care of.

The next part was the hardest part in a long line of parts. She had to approach the actual scene itself. But that, in on itself, wasn’t the difficult bit. The difficult bit was the same reason why the lights were still on in this house. The difficult bit was walking up the pathway and talking to the family that just lost a member.

Maybe that’s why she spent this long on the first bit, because she hated this one. Normally Canary would handle it, under usual circumstances – she always had a way of knowing what to say even if she didn’t necessarily believe it – but this time old Berry was by her lonesome. She swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and walked towards the door, hoping desperately that by the time she reached it, she’d have thought of something to say.


,---(*<   ~---,
'---------------'
 

None of the three of them could get any sleep. They tried, yes, huddled up in the dark under some nice warm blankets and on comforters that actually did what they said, but burning curiosity in the minds of all three of them decided to take over and force one of them to speak.

“So…” said Night Flare, generally.

“Yeah…” replied Blitz.

Duriandal kept quiet, her own way of joining in on the conversation.

“This is weird,” said Night Flare.

“Quite,” said Blitz.

“…” said Duriandal.

“So… uh… what are you in for?” asked Night Flare.

“Murder. You?” asked Blitz.

“Same.”

Another few seconds of uneasiness passed by unhindered.

“Uh… what about you, Duriandal?” asked Night Flare.

“Wait, you know her?” Blitz cut in, sitting up.

“Yeah I just met her last night. What, you know her too?”

“In a manner of speaking… I also just met her two nights ago.”

"Two nights ago?"

"Yeah, what about?"

There began a soft tapping in the corner of the cell.

“Well, I snuck a look at yesterday’s newspaper that somepony left on the desk where I was at just now…”

“So you sort of know the details. then?”

“Yeah.”

The tapping grew louder as the pace kicked up slightly.

“Don’t you find it weird that somepony got murdered at the same time that you and I both met her?”

Blitz turned her head, looking at the silhouette of the little pony, the lumps in the blanket shaking as she rapped sharply on the floor.

“I think you’re upsetting her, Flare.”

“Yeah but look, really! It’s just odd.  I mean, we know each other, right? But we both only just met this Duriandal here, if that’s even her real name, and suddenly we’re all mixed up in this whole mess.”

“It’s just a coincidence, that’s all.”

“It’s a pretty big coincidence!”

“Look, she’s got nothing to do with it. Honestly. She’s just the owner of the perfume store where the first murder occurred, ok?”

“Whoa whoa, what?” exclaimed Flare. “You mean to tell me that she’s the one you make those cloud thingies for?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Do you know what they found at the scene of the second murder?”

“Yes, I know. Believe me, I know. I was questioned about it at length.”

“And you still think it’s a big coincidence?”

“Yes! How would she have even got to the park, anyway? I was with her all the while, except one short period when I had to go back to Cloudsdale. I left her at some weird night club and picked her up from there when I got back. I highly doubt she’d have the time to go to the park to commit murder, wash herself off, and then return.”

The tapping reached a fever pitch now, although a few moments later and it abruptly stopped. She’d reached the final bottle, thought Breeze.

“Wait, wait, a night club? You mean Le Pouze?”

“I think that was the name, yeah.”

“That’s where I met her!” said Flare, frantically, with an edge of alarm on her voice, as if she came to some sort of astounding conclusion. “Don’t you see what that means?”

“No, I don’t, Flare. What does it mean?”

“I dunno either! But it means something!”

“Ok, now you’re just being stupid,” said Breeze, not holding back any words. “And you’re really upsetting her, so just drop it, ok?”

“Ok, ok, jeez, but you gotta admit it’s really suspic…”

“I DID NOT DO IT!” screamed Duriandal suddenly, the first thing she said all night and giving both Breeze and Flare a bit of a shock.

The stunned hush between them was only broken by the night-shift guard poking his head in to check if everything was ok or not. It was also kind of pointless to wait the few moments for him to be out of earshot before continuing the conversation, but they did so anyway out of natural habit.

“Um… yeah, alright,” said Flare, finally conceding the point.

"Look, I know it's stressful, ok? It's hard for all of us, But really, just take it easy. There's nothing to be gained by throwing around blame like that. And besides, Duri's... sensitive."

"Boy, I'd say," muttered Flare, to herself.

"What was that?" asked Breeze.

"Nothin'. I mean, honestly, it's actually kinda lucky that she ran into me back at the club," Flare sniffed, indignantly. "Wasn't really nice what you did to her, you know?"

"What are you talking about now?" the irritation in Blitz's voice came through. She did not like how defensive Flare was being, and it seemed like she was now targeting Breeze, herself, as a dumping ground for her stress.

"I mean, leaving her in a place like that? What were you thinking?"

"It was the only place open that time of night! And we didn't really know the area well. It was fine for a little while."

"Yeah, well, it still didn't change the fact that she got drunk and could have been taken advantage of, right?"

"Didn't you say she met you in the club?"

"Yeah, so?"

"So wasn't it you who got her drunk!?"

Duriandal sneezed. It was cold in those cells. She was still huddled under the blanket, but was shivering for a number of reasons, temperature only being one of them.

"I just offered to buy her a couple of drinks, that's all! How was I supposed to know that she was such a lightweight?"

"Well next time find out before you start throwing drinks around!"

"Oh, what am I supposed to do then? Just go around asking everypony I meet, 'hey, if I bought you a drink, would you be able to handle the pressure?'"

Blitz rubbed her temples in the gloom of the cell. Beside her, Duriandal lay, face toward the wall, shivering ever so slightly and giving off the odd sneeze once in a while. On the opposite end lay Night Flare, who melded nicely into the dark. She was collapsed down on her back, eyes closed, face to the ceiling.

Blitz exhaled, surrendering to the hours.

"Ok, look. None of us wants to be here, alright? And we're all a little on edge. I don't know about you, but I'm going to go get some sleep, and maybe you should too," Blitz declared, falling back and getting into resting position as well.

And just like that, the room was plunged into the mired quiet of a concrete cavern. The last remaining sound came from Duriandal, who still sneezed from the chill every so often.

It was five minutes later when an extra blanket was dumped unceremoniously over Duriandal's shuddering torso, which welcomed the extra warmth immensely. As she snuggled down, finding the cold air losing the battle, she gave a little muffled thanks, too tired to lift her head from the padded ground.

"Thank you, Blitz..." she said, as slumber caught up.

"Hmph," muttered Flare to herself, as she returned to her corner, wrapped herself up with a wing and struggled, blanket-less, to put herself to sleep as well.


,---(*<   ~---,
'---------------'
 

Berry hit the doorbell with a little bit of hesitation, the bright chimes disguising the overtones of the general mood that hung in the air. She puckered her lips, listening carefully to the thumping and scrambling noises of the ponies behind the door. They were probably getting 'prepared' for the meeting, always fearing the worst, but not really knowing that statistically, the likelihood of the actual murderer coming back to knock on their front door was practically zero.

She rung the doorbell again, clearing her throat and identifying herself. This was another thing that she didn't really get; why people in distress are so quick to simply just believe in a word, which could very easily have been a lie. Just saying 'police' made all that much of a difference. But it was required, Canary told her. It was required just to make things a tiny bit better.

And every little bit did help. This part of the process was like a mine-field, with Berry on one side and precious information on the other. Every new pony brought a new configuration of mines, and one wrong step meant that you'd never get the information that you really needed. It was a very sensitive, tricky situation, and one that Berry had no prior experience in.

The door did open, as expected, shortly after. There was a chain attached, of course, preventing the whole thing from swinging completely open, and Berry could see the faint outline of some sort of blunt instrument hovering behind the distraught Unicorn who greeted her at the narrow crack of an opening.

"Constable Berry, CPD, sir. May we have a few words?" she said, slowly.

"Oh... yes, of course. Pardon me, officer," said the pony, as the door shut and chains were moved around.
I'm not really an officer, thought Berry, looking back at Silver. She really wondered why Canary had suddenly thrown her into the deep end like this. Was it the best of decisions? The door clicked as it opened again, this time fully, revealing the household of the Blush family.

For a house in these parts, it was everything that Berry had expected, although nothing she had ever seen. She, herself, lived in a very small place with her family, and truth be told, it suited her just fine. This house was clearly extravagant.

The living room was painted with portraits and fancy mirrors and other such things. There was a plush woven carpet over the floor, and those large wooden chairs that you could get curled up in comfortably. A fireplace roared over on the far wall, and a miniature chandelier addressed the exact centre of the room.

"Please, come in," said the same stallion, with a shaky voice. He was trying very hard to show a brave face; his wife was not so together, though, as she stared blankly at the coffee table in front of her, from her position on the couch.

"Thank you Mister...?"

"Summer. Summer Blush, and this is my wife Winter." he said. "You... you sure came fast."

"Mister Blush. We arrived as fast as we could."

Of course, in a world with limited communication, fast meant anytime within an hour, and even more impressive was the fact that they hadn't sent out a message to the police at all.

"Have you found our daughter?" was the first, most deadly question.

"I'm afraid I have bad news."

The words ran themselves off a cliff. Although for some reason, they didn't seem to be more affected by the news.

"I'm... very sorry for your loss, Mister and Missus Blush."

"It's fine," was the only reply. Granted, it was said in a voice that sounded gravelly and quiet, but Berry had to admit that she found this sort of ability to hold together quite rare in her line of work. 

"You don't seem to be too surprised by the news," Berry commented, more out of curiosity than anything else.

"We aren't. We're practical ponies, officer. We've already come to terms that it was a very real possibility, and well... you know how you're always hearing stories about how children get kidnapped and the parents always just seem to know that their child is alive, even after years have gone by, and it turns out to be true?"

Berry nodded.

"Well, the reverse is true as well, officer," the father sniffed, lifelessly. "It's not that we don't care, or we don't have any hope. It's just that..."

"You're practical," reaffirmed Berry, trying to at least show that she understood where they were coming from, and their peculiar method of rationalization. "I understand."

"Can... can we get you anything, officer?" muttered the other woman in the room. Her eyes were shot red from crying, her hair was in a veritable mess and she didn't seem to look at Berry when she spoke. "Tea, maybe?"

"Please, some tea would be lovely," said Berry. They are prone to offer assistance, out of guilt, said Canary once, and so was the case here. They would feel that they were useless for the inability to stop what had happened, and will try their best to show that they have some purpose. Do not ever deny them this opportunity.

Berry still felt off every single time she had to be waited on by the bereaved, though. The lady shuffled, quite literally, into what she assumed was their kitchen, while the one named Summer stood there and offered his assistance.

"Um... Mister Blush? The police are doing everything they can to find out who did this..."

"Okay..." was the reply. There was still no life in it at all. And Berry just found it hard to continue along any sort of path of inquisition with it this way. She'd seen Canary do this a hundred times before, but when it came down to it, she was at a loss for words, caught between all of Canary's advice and police protocol.

"And we want to assure you that we'll do what's necessary to apprehend whoever did this to your daughter."

"Alright. Is that all you came here for?"

"Um... you have our sympathies..."

"Well, that's just not good enough, is it?" replied Summer, irritated. "You come in here with your words of pity and what good is it?"

"We..."

"Look, if you have nothing to help with, just leave us, ok?"

A tight squeezing started to occur in the depths of Berry's chest somewhere. She had started to panic, which is something that was entirely unnecessary at the point, but she couldn't get out of the fact that she might have just messed things up entirely.

Alright, Berry. Slow down. Calm down. Just think.

Thoughts move a million miles a second, and in the three seconds that passed, she had already thought of everything that Canary had said, what Canary would do, and what Canary had taught her.

But she wasn't Canary, was she? As much as she adored and wanted to be like Canary, she wasn't Canary. She was Berry. And Berry was here, now, in this room, not Canary, and Berry should be the one to speak.

It was all rather confusing. But Berry gathered up every single bit of strength she had left and invested it in a leap of personal faith.

"We can't help," said Berry, suddenly, eyes locking with the angry Unicorn across from her. That was the first step.

"What?"

"Sir, I'll be honest with you. All those things I just said... we're taught to say them. I think you know, too. And you're right about it. They're meaningless. It really doesn't matter. You're right that we can't help either."

"So... leave!" he yelled, indignant.

"No, sir. I can't. I won't lie and say I understand what you and your family are going through right now, but I can't leave. Not yet. Sir? What has happened is an atrocity. It is... something that no pony should ever have to go through, but for some reason it did. And that's the part we can't help with.

"But what I want to do... me, not the police, not anypony else, but what I want to do is find the pony who did this to you and make sure he can never do it again. And I don't know what you're going through right now, and I don't know how you feel, but I just have to ask you if you can just... help me. No matter how hard, I really, really need your help."

She was practically begging.

"You need my help?"

"Yes, sir."

The stallion looked like he couldn't rather understand what had just been said to him. There were far too many things on his mind, and he struggled to disregard most of it. But there was just one burning question he really needed to know.

"You... actually care?"

"Yes, sir. That's why I joined the police. When I was young, someone once showed me what it really meant to help others, and I guess I just want to help ponies as much as I can now. I'm not really supposed to say that, but I guess it doesn't matter."

"Al...alright. Thanks for... being honest, I guess, officer," he softened.

"Look, let's just drop all the 'officer' stuff, alright? I'm Berry," she smiled.

"So, what... what do you need, Berry?"

"Well, could you tell me about... her?"

She didn't have to specify. It was obvious whom she was speaking of, and she really hated to say the word 'deceased'.

The wife returned, floating a tray of teacups and a steaming hot teapot.

"Sugar?" she asked, rattling the tray as it hit the tabletop.

"Oh, no, thank you," Berry politely declined, as they all took a moment to themselves.

After a while, and three half-emptied cups later, Summer began to speak again.

"We... we met, Winter Blush and I, a long time ago. Back then she was just 'Winter', but she decided to take half my name just because it seemed to match. Our two daughters we named Autumn and Spring. Spring's up in her room now... she locked herself in ever since this started and won't come out."

"Understandable," said Berry. "It must be hard on her."

"She's only three, Berry," Summer pleaded. "Why did this have to happen?"

"I genuinely wish I could tell you," said Berry.

Summer sniffed, catching a few breaths. "Well, Autumn... Autumn was always a good kid, you know? She was just out of school, and she had a job babysitting kids in the park."

"Wait, which park?"

"The one down Maplethorn. Why?"

"That's... where we found her, Mister Summer."

"I see," he sighed. "Do you... know how she went?"

"Yes. It seemed that someone had attacked her with something very sharp."

"Well, that makes sense."

"What does, Mister Summer?"

"I assume you'll be wanting to investigate the place where it happened, right? You'll see."

"Alright," Berry nodded, not wanting to push the subject. "Do you know if Autumn had any enemies?"

"Enemies? Definitely not. Everypony loved her. She was a real good kid. Got along with everypony. Always came home on time, respected her elders. Good, good kid."

"Was anything at all out of the ordinary last night?"

"Well, I don't think so, no. It was just like every other day, she'd finished with the kids at the park and come home. Actually, she came back a little late, and she must have been tired because she went straight to her room. We both saw her."

"About what time was this?"

"Around 10:30 to 11."

"And you're sure it was her?"

"Well, yeah," he nodded to his wife, who nodded in return. "We caught her from behind, but you can't mistake her colours."

"And then what happened?"

"Well, it was about ten minutes later and then we heard the sound of her window breaking, and we all rushed to the room, all of us, and when we got there... well, you'll see."

"You didn't touch anything since then?"

"Not a hair. We didn't even enter the room. Not that we wanted to. But she was gone. Disappeared. We searched the entire house after that, and outside. Bolted ourselves in. And then you showed up."

"Don't suppose you can think of anything else that was out of the ordinary, can you?"

"No, Berry. It's the same thing that happens every day, you understand. We didn't pay any specific attention to anything."

"Alright, thank you. If you didn't mind, I'd like to see her room now, please."

"Of course. Just down the hallway to your left. It's the first door. It has her name on it."

"And for what it's worth," Berry said, as she swung around to move to the crime scene, "I am sorry for what happened."

"Us too, Berry. Us too."

---

The hallway was narrow, unbecoming. Framed pictures of the family hung on the walls, and there was an end-table with a flowerpot on it right at the corner. Two rooms here, side by side, one labelled 'Autumn' and one labelled 'Spring'.

The door to Spring's room was tightly shut, and no noise came from within. Autumn's door, however, was ajar, and Berry poked her head in hesitantly.

It was a girl's room. Basically that. Posters of the latest bands wallpapered the space, and there was the usual stuff that every rich girl had - a mirrored table with beauty products littering the drawers, and a phonograph machine with her favourite records.

A large bed also displayed itself proudly on one side of the room, happy to be free of the blood that pooled around the window just beside it.

Berry now understood what Mister Summer had meant; the window was broken, and one of the large shards that lay on the ground was covered with crimson. No doubt, this was what was used to attack the poor girl, and cause that laceration in the back of her neck.

However, it wasn't just one of the large shards, it was the only shard. In fact, there was surprisingly little blood around the window and shard itself, and all the other fragmented pieces of glass were entirely absent. It seemed way too clean to be a murder scene, and Berry found herself with some hard thinking in her hooves.

And there was just one other thing she really needed to find out before she left. Just one. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for signs of a sign. They came to rest on a dollhouse that was turned, facing the wall. She nodded, and walked up to it, knowing exactly what she'd find.


,---(*<   ~---,
'---------------'
 

"Wakey, wakey, Princesses," said Canary, the morning sun now streaming through the window. She managed to have a good few hours sleep, and so did her guests by the look of things. They all rubbed out the daze from their eyes and got up slowly, blinking and gathering their thoughts.

The one named Night Flare seemed a bit more dour than the other three; she had about her a face of irritability, which might have been caused by the fact that she did not have a blanket. She was clearly trying to control the fact that she was freezing, a brave air in a cold cell.

Duriandal remained a lump under her double insulation, not willing to stand up, while Blitz's gaze travelled from her to the shivering Flare, who was trying to look unperturbed by the situation.

For just that moment, their gazes locked.

"She stole my blanket last night," Flare said, huffily, casting away all suspicion.

Blitz just didn't say anything in return.

"Alright, good news and bad news," said Canary to them, through the bars. "Bad news is that you lot aren't going anywhere for a while. We kindly ask for your patience and all that nonsense while we find out if you did it, and we'll not really be able to find out until our friend gets here, who actually works normal hours."

"Good news is you get breakfast on us. Just tell my friend here what you want and he'll get it for you, alright?" Canary ushered in the other pony who had a hoof in 'prepping' Flare the night before, whose tone nearly turned from black to grey.

He smiled at them openly.

Canary returned to the main floor, where Berry had returned from her 'visit' and was eager to get something inside of her as well.

To her delight, Canary had pulled out some leftover lentil stew from the fridge and warmed it up, where it sat ready to be digested by the ravenous Berry.

"You're a lifesaver, Sarge," she said as the bowl was passed along to her.

"Don't mention it. How'd it go?"

"Yeah, it went great, Sarge!"

"I know, otherwise I wouldn't have let you do it by yourself."

"Then why ask, Sarge?" Berry stuffed her mouth with a huge heaping spoonful of delicious warm vegetable gravy and legumes.

"Yeah, good point. Remind me not to, next time. Anyway, what did you get from it?"

"Wrff, srgh," she swallowed. "Um... we found the sign. It's connected. It was on a dollhouse that was in her room? Somepony had just stepped on it upside down and then set it back up again, but facing the wall. I think it was deliberate, 'cuz it had... man, Sarge, this is good."

"Family recipe, Berry."

"Really, Sarge?"

"Cafe down the street, Berry. You were saying?"

"Mmph, yeff," she took another mouthful. "It was placed in a way that was like, hidden, so we were supposed to find it, I think. Under the hoof mark, somepony had written 'two have been freed'."

"So, it's the same bunch of ponies."

"Yeah, seems like."

"Although miss Blitz contends that they only saw one. The one that they saw at the shop and the one that Duriandal saw outside that silly club. Anyway, go on?"

"It seems that a piece of glass was what did her in, Sarge. From a broken window in her room. Looks like she was attacked inside her room, and then carried out. I know this because the window was locked, but the glass was broken. And get this, Sarge, the glass was broken from the inside."

"Shards of glass on the outside of the window?"

"Yeah, except one, which was really bloody, I think it was the murder weapon itself."

"I see," Canary said, trying to piece the scene in her head.

"Right, so the one thing that I didn't get was this... it was like, really really open. The whole scene was set up perfectly, it was like it was rehearsed, Sarge."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's an open area, and you really can't make noise without anypony knowing. Neighbours would be able to hear, the family was at home when it happened... and I was asking myself what felt wrong, and what felt wrong was that everypony knows when you're baking cookies."

"Yes, yes they do."

"No matter what you do to hide, somehow, everypony knows that you're baking cookies, and they come running, right, Sarge? Because everypony loves a cookie. So I was thinking, what is the only time when you don't come running when you notice cookies?"

"Haven't the faintest, Berry."

"When you already know that cookies are being made, Sarge."

"So... you're saying the family was in on it?"

"No, no, of course not, Sarge. What I'm saying is that... when I was talking to them, they said that they saw their daughter come home late, right? But I went to talk to the neighbour, who was awake because I noticed him peeking at me through his curtains, and he told me that he saw her coming back early."

"And this has to do with cookies how?"

"Well, what if the cookies that were being made were not cookies, but something else that looked like cookies? You still wouldn't come running, if you knew."

"Berry, I really think the analogy here is a bit stretched..."

"Makes perfect sense, Sarge!"

"Ok, let's try this in plain language. You have two conflicting stories about when the victim returned home. What does that mean?"

"Means that... either the victim came home, left again and then went home again, or only went home once, Sarge."

"You're saying that you think the perp just walked right in, said hello to mommy and daddy and proceeded to do horrible things to the victim?"

"Yeah, Sarge, it makes sense. No struggle, the blood was all contained to the wall area, the parents didn't get a good look at her, only from behind, and they said she just went straight to her room without saying hi."

"Ok, so no hello to mommy and daddy."

"No, Sarge, but I also think we're dealing with a single perp, too."

"So let me get this straight. At some time during the night, the actual daughter comes home. The parents don't notice her then, but then somepony who looked a lot like her walks in. Then... how long until...?"

"They said ten minutes until they heard glass breaking, Sarge."

"No screams? Nothing else to alert anypony?"

"Apparently not, Sarge."

"So, the daughter doesn't scream, doesn't shout, gets stabbed in the neck, and has the whole scene set up and nopony notices?"

"Yeah Sarge."

"That's impossible."

"Yeah, it is, Sarge."

"Then why did you..."

"Just what I think, Sarge. It's the only way, right?"

"We're missing something here."

"We are, Sarge, but still, it's pretty similar to the first scene, right?"

"How so, Berry?"

"In both cases no one noticed. Miss Duriandal woke up and found all the blood everywhere. She didn't hear a thing, right? So this pony is really silent, or something."

"This thing is just going all over the place, Berry. Three ponies, two ponies, one pony... which one is it? Earth? Unicorn? Pegasus? And now we're saying he might be some sort of crazy silent master of disguise?"

"Maybe he's just really really good, Sarge."

"And just like the first scene," Canary added, "The bodies were moved. Seems to be part of the MO, but the question is, why?"

"Well, In the second case, Sarge, it was dropped right on that Pegasus we have locked up in there, right?"

"Right."

"And in the first case, the body was dumped at the docks, right?"

"Right."

"Which means..."

"What have you got, Berry?"

"... I dunno, Sarge."

"... Berry."

"No, really, Sarge, I dunno!"

"Why the hay did you even..."

"Well usually when I do that you suddenly think of something yourself, Sarge, and then finish it for me, and... I was just hopin'..."

Canary immediately discarded it. She would have loved to give all sorts of varied facial expressions that mirrored what she currently thought of that sort of thinking, but there just wasn't the time, damnit.

"And another thing that bothers me is that message, two are freed, or something. How many more are we supposed to expect?" asked Canary.

"I dunno, Sarge. Wicked Stable? Three more?"

"Well, everything's misty except for that one thing, isn't it?" Canary furrowed her brow. "We still got the books on us?"

"Sure, Sarge. They're over there."

"Go get them. It think it's time to see if we can really find out what this murderer has invested in this old legend. Maybe if we find that out, we can prevent further problems from happening."

"Sure, Sarge. I'll get started, alright?" Berry said, pushing her empty bowl away and heading back to her desk, where the books were kept.

"Hey, Berry, good job out there," said Canary.

"Thanks, Sarge!" Berry nodded.

Canary put her hoof to her face, just for a moment, trying to understand what this all was about. She didn't distrust Berry's assessment; no matter how whacky and unbelievable it might be, Canary still believed it to be accurate to the minute detail.

But if that were the case... what could this all be about? Everything they'd thought of, everything they'd summarily determined, was all being denied and counter-argued by every new piece of evidence that came in. They were back at square one again, with no leads except for a few ancient tomes and this Stable thing. Nothing seemed to connect except for that one point.

Something that Canary always had said was that there was nothing that they knew was definite. There wasn't going to be a truer case than this.

She looked up at a pony walking into the station. It wasn't too hard to notice at this time, when there were very few ponies up and about. It was just a tad bit too early for the regular crowd to come shuffling in, but she knew Lumi had always been early for everything. She was just that kind of pony.

The violet-coated pony came trotting in with a large yellow trenchcoat and a red wide-brimmed hat, and only she could make it look so elegant in the way that she did. She had that air about her, one of whom puts on the face of elitism, but deep on the inside is a very down-to-earth sort of pony who doesn't mind mucking about with the rest of the lads.

That was probably why she never minded walking into police stations all over Equestria to offer her unique skills.

"Well, it's about time, Lumi," said Canary. "Took your time getting here, didn't you?"

"Well of course, dear," replied the Unicorn. "One has to be... fashionably late, don't you know?"

"Right, right. Anyway, thanks for coming. Easy job for you today, no field work necessary. Just wait up in the interrogation room, would you?"

"Of course, dear."

Alright, thought Canary to herself, as she walked to the holding cells. Time to see if those three really are singing the truth.

"Ok, three of you. Follow me," she said to the trio of jailbirds, as the cell door slid open with a loud clang.

"What?! I haven't finished my breakfast yet!" complained Night Flare, a big huge pile of scrambled eggs, fried baby tomatoes and potato hash in front of her.

Canary noticed that on the other side, Blitz was having a humble salad, and two slices of plain toast seemed to be sticking out of Duriandal's chewing mouth.

"Well, pardon me for disrupting your free meal, but we have important things to do. So either come with me or I'll have to drag you."

Duriandal and Blitz didn't put up a fight. Quietly, Blitz put her food aside and walked out the door, and Duriandal followed suit, bread still in her mouth. At least her food was more mobile, and Canary didn't really care.

With much grumbling, Flare was the last one out of the cage, and the four of them finally made haste to the interrogation room.

"Alright, ladies," briefed Canary. "One by one you lot are going to step into the room with me. It will be dark, so watch your step. We'll check something, and then afterward, we'll bring you back to your precious meals. The faster this is over, the faster... this is over, really. Let's just get it over with, yes?"

"And just exactly what are you going to do with us in there?" asked Flare.

"Flare, please," said Blitz quietly.

"No! I know my rights! I have the right not to be dragged into a dark room and molested by an angry cop!"

"Don't be stupid, they're not going to do anything like that. Just listen to the officer and behave."

"Oh, listen and behave, is it? Then why is it that she," Flare poked an accusing hoof at Duriandal, "gets to bring her breakfast with her when the nice officer asked us to leave it behind?"

Duriandal, at that, suddenly stopped chewing, and spit the half-eaten slices of bread into an up-turned hoof.

"Duri, it's ok. Just keep eating, ok?" Blitz said to her, turning around.

"See that, that's called favouritism, it is. There's no rules here! There's no rules in a... police station!"

"Ladies," Canary said, sternly. "Am I missing something here?"

"No, officer. Look, I'll go first, alright?" said Blitz.

"Like flank you will," said Flare, stepping in front of Blitz. "And get molested? No, I'mma go first. Don't wanna see you cry, after all."

"I don't really care who goes in first, but somepony better get moving soon," said Canary.

Duriandal slowly moved the bread back to her mouth, keeping a very sharp eye on the other three.

The door flew open and Flare stepped in, with an ambivalent Canary stepping close behind. Lumi was already inside, waiting and prepared.

The door shut and the lights were turned off by Canary, who used the familiarity of the room to make her way to Flare's side. Even in pitch blackness, she had no trouble traversing the empty space.

"Uh, alright, officers. What now?" asked Flare, nervously. All trace of her past brashness disappeared now that she was alone, and she did not at all enjoy the lack of sight that the room provided.

"It's very simple. Did you know that blood takes a very long time to disappear?"

"Uh... well yeah, I guess. Bloodstains can't get out of clothing easy."

"Not just that, Miss Flare. I mean even if you wash it, some trace still remains. Like for example, if you had just killed somepony, and there was blood on you, and if you washed it off later, we'd still be able to see it."

"But... but you already know that there's blood on me! I was there at the park! That stupid body landed right next to me!"

"We're just being sure, Miss Flare. Don't worry, it doesn't hurt, alright?"

Before Flare could answer, a spark lit up the room, bathing it in an eerie violet. The spark came from the tip of Lumi's horn, which now glowed with that strange not-light, faintly casting form to the common area where three ponies stood.

Everything, that is, except for any trace of blood, which shone brightly, like fireflies, under that special light.

"Oh... oh my Colt! Ahhhh! AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!" screamed Flare.

Outside of the room, Duriandal and Blitz jumped a bit at the sudden screaming. Blitz almost entertained the thought that they were doing something particularly nasty to Flare on the inside, but quickly squelched that thought. Nopony else in the station seemed to react to the sudden screaming, almost as if they had all heard it many times before.

"What is that what is that what is that?!" Flare kept yelling, backing up to a wall and throwing her back against it, pointing at Canary.

More accurately, she was pointing at the multiple splotches of bright blue that coated nearly all of Canary's legs and ran up her chest. The room itself, too, had large pools of the glowing light in random places, especially around the table, which was nearly completely covered in that magical azure.

"That is blood, Miss Flare."

"Why in the living hay is it all over the place? Why is it all over you!?"

"Police work is messy business, Miss Flare. You accidentally touch things, you step in things... it's unavoidable. And this room has a lot of... history, as well."

"THAT IS HORRIBLE," she shouted.

"Yeah, don't look down, then."

"Wha..."

Flare started to turn in a circle, like a dog chasing its tail.

"Ok, stand still, Flare, and really, don't worry. It's not like there's blood just streaming down where it lights up. It's really just trace. There's barely anything left, but we're lucky to know someone who can bring that out."

"Towel... I need a towel..."

"Won't really help, Miss Flare. Anyway, stand still."

She did as she was told, pressing her eyes together as tightly as she could and raising her head to the heavens. All down her side were speckles of blue, with a particularly large splotch along her midsection. But there wasn't anything anywhere else.

Well, this checked out, thought Canary. If Flare, on the off chance that this unlikely girl were part of it, had killed somepony, there'd be more evidence than merely the splash from the second body.

"Alright, Lumi, thanks," Canary said, flicking the light switch back on, and bringing the room back to the normal colours it was meant to be in.

The door was opened, and a particularly icky-feeling Flare was led out, stepping with way too much caution, as if the ground would eat her. Without a word of acknowledgement to anypony else, she made her unsteady way back to the cell.

"Uh... get her a shower," whispered Canary to Silver, who happened to be in the nearby vicinity.

"Alright, that... went well," said Canary, as she returned to the two remaining ponies.

"Is there anything we should be concerned about?" asked Blitz, concerned over the noises that they were exposed to.

"Well, for you, maybe," said Canary.

"Why is that, officer?"

"Because you're next."