“Spring is in the air,” as they say, but you wouldn’t be able to actually tell down by the Chibronco Port docks. Mostly because the local colts in blue weren’t letting any rubberneckers stick around to enjoy the atmosphere. The reason for this of course being the recent death of a dock worker just found this morning. It was the third death this month, and the police where being extremely closed lip about the details. While violent crime is nothing new to the docks since the time of Al Capony, the bodies of the victims are usually left in Lake Michigait with cement horseshoes, not behind a dumpster with large chunks bitten off. The pony who found the body in the morning was an old friend of mine from back when I did an article about a shipping company trying to work around the local dock workers union, and he called me shortly after the police, piquing my interest. Which is why, despite how quiet they intended to keep it or how hard they were keeping others away, I had shown up at the crime scene, flashing my INS press badge to get a closer look and some comments.
“What do you mean ‘No comment,’ officer?” The earth pony with the straw pork pie hat and baby blue seer sucker suit coat was practically chasing after the police pony, who was doing their best to ignore him.
“I mean, no comment, Coltchak. There’s nothing to say about this now, we just got here as well.”
“But look at that body! It looks like a dog’s chew toy! Are you seriously going to tell me you have nothing to say about it?”
“No, I don’t, and neither should you, Coltchak. I’ve read your articles and I know the kind of things you make up with stuff that looks like this. You’ll cause a panic if you post something in the morning editions, and I can promise you even if it doesn’t, the chief of police won’t give a damn and still haul you in for irresponsible journalism.”
“You can’t just hide the truth though, what about the public? What about the other dock workers? They have a right to know what’s going on!”
“No one knows what’s going on!” After the outburst, the police pony covers his face with a hoof and lets out a deep sigh. Handling Coltchak was not how he wanted to start his day. “Look, the chief is holding a conference about this death and the other two later this afternoon-”
“So it is related to the other deaths along the docks-”
“-AND you can ask him yourself about this case and what we know. Alright? Right now, you are not getting anything more from us, and if you publish anything before it lets out, I can assure you, you won’t be at the conference.”
“You can’t keep me out! That’s just-”
“You won’t be there because you’ll be in JAIL, Coltchak. There’s a gag order in effect, got it? So nothing, not one word, until after the conference. Now let me do my job!” And with that final shout, the police officer pushes Coltchak back under the yellow police tape, heading towards the others to continue on with the investigation. Meanwhile, Coltchak decides to see someone else who might know more about the previous two deaths and heads to the central morgue.
An old friend at the morgue, Gordy “The Ghoul” Spurgler has always been a helpful source of information. If at times expensive. He was called “The Ghoul” because of a little side business he started based off his work. A lottery using the birth years of the stiffs brought into the morgue, and with crime rate what it was these days, there were plenty of chances to try one’s luck.
“Oh hey, Coltchak, gotta say you came close again last week,” the small unicorn in a labcoat said in greeting as Coltchak approached his desk.
Coltchak was fishing around his side bag, looking for some bills before even speaking. “Yeah, yeah, save it, Gordy. I need to know about some bodies from the docks that came through here,” he gets out the money and sets it down on Gordy’s desk. “Give me two, one for each of them.”
“Want me to pick for you again?”
“Sure, but instead of a near miss, why not give me a hit this time?”
“Now, now, Coltchak, that’s not how a lottery works at all!” Gordy acted surprised as he said this, getting two slips of paper with the lottery numbers Coltchak just bought and levitating them over to him.
Coltchak snatched them from the air and mumbled as he put them away, “Of course not. Now about those other two bodies? From the docks?”
“Oh right. Gee, I don’t know, Coltchak, the police really want any details kept quiet until the conference this afternoon. Even before that they didn’t want much known about the condition of the bodies to get out.”
“A ha! So something was really wrong with them, then?! Look Gordy, I’m one of your best lottery customers, right? Doesn’t that count for anything? You can tell me, they were chewed up, weren’t they? Like chunks bitten out of them?”
Gordy’s eyes widen slightly at that, “Now how’d you know that, Coltchak? Have you been sneaking in here behind my back?”
“No, no, there was a third body found today, looked like it was chewed up and spat out. So give me the details here, what did it? What kind of animal are we dealing with?”
“Hrm... I really shouldn’t but if you’ve seen the one, and it’s related to the others, than I suppose some solid facts wouldn’t be too bad. After all, you’re a good friend,” Gordy moved from the desk over to a cabinet and pulled out a drawer. After a quick check inside, he levitated two files out and brought them to the desk. “Just don’t let anyone know where you got this info from, alright?”
Coltchak took a look over the autopsy reports, moving back and forth between the two files. If it wasn’t for the differing colors of the ponies manes and coats, he might as well as been looking at the same file twice. And he saw it in person this morning. “I’m seeing a lot of info, all the same, and it sure looks like what I saw this morning, but I don’t see what attacked them, what made these marks?”
Gordy merely gave a shrug as he watched Coltchak pouring over the files, “To be honest, no one’s sure. We took photos of the bite marks and measurements to send to experts, but I’ve never seen anything like them since I’ve been working here. I was guessing the conference was going to let people know what the experts found out. But there’s more to it than just some animal taking bites out of random dock ponies.”
Coltchak looked up from the files, “Yeah, what’s that?” But Gordy merely gave Coltchak a smirk and held out his hoof. “Fine, fine, you’re bleeding me dry.” Coltchak pulled out a few more bills and gave them to Gordy, who tucked them away in his labcoat. “Now what else is there?”
“No defense wounds.”
“Defense wounds? What are those?”
“You know, defense wounds, from when someone tries to protect themselves from an attack. No bruising, or no excessive tearing on the bites on the arms, things like that. What ever did this to those colts, they didn’t struggle against it.”
“What?! But look at them! I’d be flailing all over the place if someone was trying to eat me!”
“Exactly, but these guys, they just laid back and took it. Looking over the muscle tissue seems to suggest all the bites were made long before rigor mortis or the time of death occurred. So they were alive while it was happening, well, until they bled out.”
“How? Were they drugged?”
“Maybe, but there were no marks other than the bites, so it’s the going theory that the animal’s bite is what administered it. Both of them had their blood sent for toxicology tests, to see if they can find out what it was that kept them still. Makes sense though, why no one heard or saw anything, don’t you think? Just drug out the victim and drag it to a secluded spot to eat at their leisure. My guess is it’s some kind of simple hallucinogen.”
“A hallucinogen? Why?”
“Look at their faces. They’re smiling like a cat that ate the canary!”
Indeed, thinking back on it, Coltchak could’ve sworn the victim this morning he saw had an exceptionally serene looking expression for one who was missing chunks from the rest of their body. There was nothing else to do now, but see what the police and the experts they asked had to say.