//------------------------------//
// Chapter 5 - A Midsummer Police Dream 
// Story: Reflections in Black and Pink 
// by Krixwell 
//------------------------------//

Before Frons even realized he was gaping at the empty cell, his mind was racing through possibilities and solutions. The fact that Clypeus had once again vanished was just another problem on the pile, and if there was one thing he knew how to handle, it was problems.

"I think the police officers just got back to the station," Gena said, ears leaned back so she could listen towards the ceiling. Sure enough, he could hear the sounds of hoofsteps on the floor above them. Many hoofsteps – by the sound of it, there were at least a dozen police officers up there. Another problem, but perhaps also a solution.

"First priority is not getting caught," Frons ordered, frowning at the relief in Gena's expression. "But we have to try to find out where Clypeus went. Split up, blend in, see what you can learn in a few minutes, then meet me in the office we came in through."

His squad mates nodded in acknowledgement, Gena a half second later than Labrum.

As they reached the hallway intersection above the stairs to the "dungeons" (a laughable description compared to the real dungeons back home), they each went their own way. Frons went left, towards the reception area.

The reception area was a large room, large enough that Frons would call it a lobby if it were a little more ostentatious in design. By the wall to Frons' right sat a long desk with a simple, unoccupied chair behind it, covered in files. Much of the rest of the room was empty space, though.

Empty except for the ten or so uniformed police officers who were talking to each other. A quick scan told Frons that the one he was impersonating wasn't in the crowd.

"Wind Chaser!" greeted an orange earth stallion with white coat patterns as he spotted Frons. "I thought you went home. Stomach feeling better?"

The real Wind Chaser had gone home? It seemed luck was at least somewhat on his side today, despite all that had happened. But it did mean Frons had to explain why he was here. He opted to gamble on a joke. "I am home!"

The stallion gave him an odd look, but chuckled. "Good old Chaser. Seriously, though, I saw the kick that pegasus filly gave you up there. Looked like it hurt like hay."

Pegasus filly? …of course.

"Yeah, it did," Frons agreed, "but I'll just rest up here at the station a little while. I'll be fine." Frons hoped that was true for the real Wind Chaser. Gena had a mean pair of hindhooves, even in her preferred filly forms. He usually dreaded sparring with her.

"Suit yourself," the stallion simply said.

"Hey, I was just down by the cells to check on Golden Carrot," Frons began. At a confused look from the stallion, he elaborated, "you know, the jewelry burglar? But the cell was empty, and there was no sign of him having broken out. Do you know anything about that?"

The stallion thought for a second. "I don't. I just got back, so if either of us two should know, it's not me. But go ask Public Notice if you haven't already. She was on reception duty, after all."

"Right, thank you." Frons put on a slightly woozy look before he turned around, to give the stallion the impression that the kick had left him not thinking clearly. It might help dissuade any suspicions.

Now he just had to figure out which officer in the room was Public Notice without letting on that he didn't know. Fortunately, there were only three mares among them. One was a dark blue pegasus. Frons recognized her as the mare Gena was impersonating, so if Public Notice had been on reception duty during the chase, she wouldn't be that one. That left a green unicorn who was chatting with two of the stallions, and a bored-looking gray earth pony who was looking at some files near, but not behind, the desk.

The latter had a sign and a brush for a cutie mark. In Frons' experience, pony names often had something to do with their cutie marks, even as the ponies claimed they were unrelated. He was willing to bet that the gray mare was Public Notice.

"Hey, Notice," he said, approaching her. A second passed. Had he been wrong? But no, Public Notice finally looked up from the files.

"What do you want?" she asked. The sheer apathy in her voice washed over Frons like a tide that didn't care what the ponies on the beach thought of it.

Frons shook it off. "I just wanted to know if you know where Golden Carrot went."

"Who."

"The jewelry burglar." Hadn't anypony in this station bothered to learn the stallion's name?

"Oh. Yeah, he left about five minutes ago," she said as though it were the most natural thing in the world. "An annoying pink mare bailed him out. Kept bouncing, going on about clippers or something. I don't know what that was all about, but she paid up, so I let him go."

Mandible! Frons fought the urge to facehoof – valiantly, if he could say so himself. Later. He could facehoof later.

"A pink mare?" a short, blue earth stallion who had been within earshot interjected sternly. A pair of gold bars on his uniform matched the star on his flank. Frons thought it marked him as a captain. The stallion continued. "She wouldn't happen to have a deeper pink, bubbly mane, and maybe a long coat and a purple hat that seemed stuck on her head?"

"Yes, that sounds like her," Public Notice said simply.

The short chief has a similarly short fuse. "Notice, you blind fool!" he shouted. "That's the mare we've all been out looking for!" He turned around and began barking orders. "Breaktime's over, everypony! The suspect has to be near the station! Notice, you're still on reception duty, and don't buck it up this time if the suspect comes back! Chaser, go inform the others in the back, then get some rest for that belly of yours. The rest of you, come with me! We'll catch those changelings yet!"

And so he led seven police officers out through the double front doors of the station, leaving Frons behind with Notice.

This was bad. The agreed meeting spot was close to the station, making it likely that the police officers would find Mandible, Proboscis and Clypeus and chase them away. If they were even together – Mandible wouldn't have let Proboscis go into the station if he had anything to say about it.

"I… should go do as he said," Frons told Notice, who had positioned herself back behind the desk.

"You should," was all she replied.

Frons, of course, had no intention of doing so. When he left the reception, he headed straight for the stairs up to the second floor. On the way to the office, he encountered a unicorn mare who looked perpetually dumbfounded. He told her the captain wanted her to go and polish the brooms in the first floor closet, and smiled in satisfaction as she ran off. The fewer ponies the captain had by his side, the better.

The office was, thank the Queen, empty aside from Gena and Labrum. Gena stood by the window, while Labrum, in his yellow, white-maned pegasus form, was looking through the files on one of the desks.

"Good news and bad news," Frons said before they could even acknowledge his presence, continuing as he walked into the middle of the room. "Good news is Clypeus is out there with Proboscis and hopefully Mandible. Bad news is Proboscis talked to the receptionist and now almost everypony is going back out to look for her near the station. We have to go, now!"

Gena facehoofed. Frons could relate, but there was no time for that.

Gena opened the window wider. "Let's go then," she said. "Before they get caught or we do."

Labrum gave both of them an odd look, then said, cautiously, "What are you two talking about?"

Frons whirled around at a sound behind him. In the doorway, a yellow, white-maned pegasus stallion stood, laughing.

Frons facehoofed.