//------------------------------// // Chapter 5: The Best Little Whorehouse in Equestria // Story: Starlight Over Detrot: A Noir Tale // by Chessie //------------------------------// Chapter 5 : The Best Little Whorehouse in Equestria Some species and cultures look at Equestria’s semi-legalized prostitution industry and ask why it was allowed to exist. That particular query is often preceded by another, usually along the lines of “By Tartarus’ gaping maw, what is that mare doing with that papaya?!” Curiously, one of the major sources of the cross-species disparity in attitudes towards sex is medical; A comparison with the known biological histories of the buffalo and cows shows that ponykind never had as many genuinely dangerous sexually transmitted diseases interrupting their evolutionary development as some other species, and so never came to associate sexual conduct with being struck down by unseen, malevolent entities. Equestria has not had terribly many groups willing to decry sexual liberation as a horrifying scourge, and so have never outlawed the practice of exchanging bits for certain favors. Despite this, sex is not a topic of polite conversation, because it is a fundamentally ‘icky’ process. Many ponies are uncomfortable around sex, and it is kept well out of the eyes of foals. It is considered rude, over dinner with the family, to bring up that a favorite uncle likes a good romp with a toaster oven and a roll of cellophane, and for similar reasons, the Equestrian prostitution industry did not enjoy a sterling reputation. It did not help said reputation that a notion once existed amongst the constabulary that ponies who entered into sex work did so only to support a habit, vice, or dependency. Although upper-class ponykind tended to turn up noses at the practice, prostitution saw a sizeable resurgence among high society after changeling-related incidents and scandals; the logic being that when dealing with a prostitute, there’s little need to worry about whether or not your partner is a changeling. In an exchange with a prostitute there is rarely love, and so few changelings turn to it as a means of sustenance. It’s one of the many reasons that wealthier ponies simultaneously cast a disdainful eye on the practice and engage therein behind closed doors with what other species would think of as shocking regularity. --The Scholar The ride to the Bay on the far side of the city wasn’t the most pleasant journey on record. Thankfully, the weather let off mid-way through our journey, its fury expended as it settled back into its usual sullen overcast; what wasn’t so placid was Swift, who lay beside me on the back seat of the cab, her forelegs drawn up and her rear legs held tight against her stomach, shaking like a leaf in a high wind. Every inch of fur on her body was drenched. “Kid, I know this is becoming a habit, but I’ve got to ask. What were you thinking?” She looked up at me with her big blue eyes, then drooped as she replied, “I didn’t want the evidence washed away before the forensics ponies could get to it. I couldn’t find an umbrella so I used my wings.” Her feathers were in complete disarray and her uniform stuck to her like a second skin, dripping on the carpet. It was a genuinely pathetic sight; pathetic enough that I slid out of my coat, picked up the collar in my teeth and threw it over the sodden pegasus. It was almost a blanket for a pony her size. She sank into it, holding it tightly around her neck as she tried to control the shivers. The taxi’s heater was on full blast, but she’d been out there for almost fifteen minutes. “I’m going to say this once and I want you to take it to heart. Dedication to the job does not mean standing in the rain. You’re no good to anypony if you’re half dead of hypothermia.” Swift nodded a little weakly then slid out of sight under my coat, burying her face against the thick padded lining. I heard a very soft, “Yes, sir.” Then she slipped back into what I imagined as a self-punitive silence. I sighed quietly, and let my mind slide back to the scene of the crime we’d just left, setting about organizing the details. “So, our Jane Pony. We’re thinking she’s a prostitute? Yes?” I asked nopony in particular. “She went to the hotel. She’d been there before, probably turning a trick. The roof was familiar. She met somepony there and they spent time in the suite. Her horn was probably removed then. Somehow she escapes, runs up the stairs, and is chased through the garden until she misjudges the jump and throws herself off the building.” Putting a hoof behind my head, I lay on my back, looking at the cab’s fabric ceiling. Taxi teased a piece of incense from one of the innumerable packages in the glovebox. Pressing it against a red jewel on the dash, she waited until it began to smolder, then stuck it into a holder on the dashboard and asked, “You think it might have been some sex play gone bad? The perp pays her beforehoof to buy the room then meets her there, they get into it, and something goes wrong then she runs from him?” I considered this. “It could have been. Did you see any ligature marks or marring on her fur that said anything besides ‘Fell off a building?’ Sex acts involving heavy restraint tend to leave something like that.” “No, I didn’t. Stitch can probably tell us more, but she looked like she was going out for a formal dinner, not a bondage session. The dress was sexy, but a bit understated.” She answered, frowning.  “The lack of identification bothers me.” I mused, retracing the various acts of the players in my head. “She showed up with cash, bought the room, gave a fake name, and there was no purse. The perp might have taken it, but he had to know we’ll eventually I.D. the body.” “Somepony who can restrain a unicorn and saw off her horn is one salty diamond dog. I can only think of two good ways to do that: Magic and drugs. Leaving her body beside a dumpster just screams ‘contempt’ to me. They had time to move the body, and if they had, nopony would probably have been the wiser.” Taxi said with certainty, swirling a hoof in the smoke to disperse it through the car. “Alright. I’ll see Stitch tomorrow. Let’s hope we can get something from the Vivarium; I’d like to get this over with quickly if possible. Going to a sex club on duty is not my idea of a good time.” My driver nickered her amusement. “Only you would see spending time with pretty mares as a downside, Hardy. Or are you switch hitting for both teams? I've never gotten a straight answer out of you.” I gave the back of her seat a good firm kick, which got a hearty chuckle out of her.   From the confines of my coat, Swift spoke, “Sir... d-do...” Her voice was quaking. She took a moment and forced herself calm. “Do you mind if I stay in the car?” “Why?” I asked, reaching over to retrieve the depleted bag of congealed jelly beans from one of my pockets and popping one into my muzzle. “I need you on this, Swift. Introduce us to your friend. Might give us an in with this ‘Stella’ pony.” My partner started to say something, but thought better of it and let her head drop. Something was definitely bothering her about this little side-trip. On top of the rest of her morning, I was half inclined to let her have this one, but the job had to come first. She’d had one of the most uniformly awful first days on the job that I think it’s possible for a pony to have without getting shot. I was actually feeling sympathy for her, but I couldn’t think of any words that would make her day easier, so I fell back on that oldest of strategies that every cop and soldier learns when confronted with a situation where they don’t know what to say: I said nothing. **** The buildings were getting shorter and farther apart as we drove towards the more suburbanized parts of the city. The towers that sprang out of the ground uptown, like trees in an old-growth forest, slipped away as we headed into the residential housing sectors; lane upon lane of colorfully dull architecture.   It was a more utilitarian strip than the self-amusing hotel district. It was where the ponies who lived and worked during the late part of the boom years moved when they could afford a little knee and elbow room. A few of the buildings were that sillier, old-city style with too much gold paint, but mostly, it felt like a swatch of tiny, rural houses from many different villages had been crammed up against one another with no regard for whether they fit alongside their neighbors. The town-homes were frequently painted in a weird approximation of what a color-blind exterior decorator might call ‘Farm-chic.’ Carriage, car, and wagon garages were made up to look like barns, and somepony had figured a way to make proper shingles look like they were made of thatch. The families that bought those homes when the money was good held as tightly to them as a nobleman does to his great grandfather’s coats, because they were part of that rarest of commodities in Detrot; their communities. They shielded their own and kept out the sicknesses of the inner city, but sometimes within those homes, another kind of illness grew. I’d seen it firsthoof in a way only a cop can. Alongside the boredom of semi-affluence and directionless living came all the usual sinister cruelties in fresh forms. I couldn’t count the number of times some fool had snapped and blown away half his immediate blood relatives out of nothing more than boredom and emptiness. Domestic disturbances accounted for a third of police activity in this part of the city. That said, some communities were gentler than others, and a few could even be called nice. We were headed for the largest of these, which was a group of maybe twenty moderately upscale neighborhoods collectively known as ‘The Heights.’ The Heights sat just outside the Bay like an oasis of gentility in the otherwise tumultuous moods of the cityscape. Many would have attributed it’s calmer presence to a quirk of nature making the ponies living there of a less criminal mindset, but the mafiosos were always looking for a way into the most peaceful of these suburbs. They suspected untapped markets to peddle their wares. There were reasons those markets had never been tapped. I might not have been with the Organized Crime Unit, but I’d heard the stories. The mob tried again and again to make a foothold in The Heights, and always failed. Their foot-soldiers turned themselves over to the cops. They found religion. They were discovered in humiliating positions in public places. Some simply left town. Above all, they refused to set hoof in those neighborhoods again. None could say for certain why. Lacking a better explanation, the DPD brushed it off as a statistical anomaly, but nopony believed for a second that it was just a stubborn bunch of community leaders or hardened criminals turning weak-spined. **** Our destination was tucked into one of the islands of commercialism that seem to spring out of the ground in suburbs to suit those who can’t be bothered to drive to the big markets and venues in the city proper. This particular strip mall was dominated almost entirely by iniquitous business. A series of sex emporiums, liquor stores, and head shops surrounded the understated little warehouse which constituted the front door of the Vivarium. They were of a better class than most of what one would consider ‘red light district’ fare, but still had that slightly greasy feel of being places ponies go when they’re horny. The rest of Detrot might have been in a crushing recession, but in this one tiny corner I was slightly cheered to see business taking place, regardless of my own little hangups about things like the ‘Inflatable Love-Sheep - With Real Baa-ing Action!’ being advertised in one of the storefronts. Briefly, I found myself wondering how Detrot’s ovine citizens would feel about its existence. Behind the line of establishments, I could see the Bay of Unity itself across a short, sandy beach on which a few foals played and frolicked in the wet sand. The dark stretch of water swelled and breached far into the distance. In its center, on a small island, stood Unity’s Promise; A proudly looming statue of Princess Luna and Princess Celestia rendered in black and white marble, respectively. It’d been a gift from the zebras many years ago to seal a trading deal they’d needed particularly badly. The two figures were rearing up in opposite directions with their flanks together as though warding off unseen dangers from the shores of the homeland. Their wings swept out protectively, forming a canopy under which the ships coming and going in the bay would have to pass on their way out into the open ocean. Every time I saw it I felt a little hint of long buried pride in my country. Today was no exception.  **** The Vivarium itself looked like a storage building that’d been altered to fit the local scenery. A huge neon sign with the name of the club and a surrealist’s interpretation of a mare with her tail in the air hung above a velvet roped door with cherubic paintings in the Pegasopolis style, depicting different species and genders in somewhat ambigious embrace. Only a few ponies were out front in line. Taxi found us a spot reasonably close to the nightclub’s front door in a small two story parking garage and, after batting her eyelashes shamelessly at the valet, managed to get him to give her a discount. As we parked, Swift wiggled out from under my coat and hoofed it back to me. “Thank you, sir.” “Don’t mention it. You warm enough to have a quick buzz around the sky to dry yourself off while Taxi and I walk?” She gave her wings an experimental flap then beat them fiercely, lifting herself into the air and slinging water all over me. “I think so. Back in a flash!” Performing a very impressive high-G roll, she seemed to pause in mid-air before zipping off at breakneck speed. Taxi got out and we headed down the street towards the Vivarium. It wasn’t a bad place to be in the grand scheme of things. Posters for concerts that’d happened months ago were plastered all over the walls; what graffitti there was looked more like art than gang symbols. A few dreadlocked ponies in rainbow caps sat on a streetcorner banging on bongos. Taxi stopped just long enough to drop a few bits into their upturned and open drum-cases. We passed a pair of foals, a pegasus and a unicorn, splashing in a puddle left by the recent rain shower. As the little unicorn magicked up a ball of water and tossed it at her friend, he hopped into the air to dodge it, then they fell into a giggling heap against each other, just enjoying their day together. Just watching them my heart felt a little lighter. We moved on. **** What I’d first taken for a really life-like statue of a bull standing on its rear legs beside the club’s velvet rope turned out to be the door-beast. The minotaur stood at least three times my height and looked like he spent his spare time wrestling grizzly bears; a slab of surly, hulking beef with a mug about as welcoming as a hug from a porcupine. Dark blue fur crawled up his face in thick swatches, curling around his ears and a pair of extremely impressive horns. Whoever decided to fit him into a sharp black tuxedo would have needed to create a smaller tuxedo for his face to improve his appearance any. It was about three miles of carefully cut material and still managed to bulge in places over his expansive muscles. I started past him into the club, following the last group of neatly dressed ponies, and he put out one shovel-sized hand in front of my face. He shook his head and said curtly, “Ve haf a dress code. Joo look like somezing I shat.” His voice sounded like he gargled rocks every morning before breakfast. Taxi stepped around me and gave him one of her coy ‘come hither’ smiles. I swear his entire body turned a shade pinker as he stared at my driver, his eyes darting up and down her body. She lifted up onto her rear toes, which did interesting things with the muscles in her thighs and flanks. “Now then, sir... what was it?” She said sweetly. He replied without thinking, “Minox.” “Mr. Minox... could you see your way to letting us in? We need to speak to the proprietor.” That got his attention. His neck tightened and he stepped back into his position beside the door. “Vy joo need to see Miss Stella?” I shifted my coat so it fell open, exposing my badge dangling from its chain around my neck. Behind it, my gun strapped to my thigh. “Detrot Police Department. There’s been an incident uptown.” His bovine mouth curled in distaste. “Joo haf a varrant?” I stopped trying to meet his eyes because it was hurting my neck, and instead looked past him at the tinted glass door. “Look, Mr. Minox. We only want to ask Stella some questions. I can go get a warrant, but I’ll be coming back with a couple of squad cars if you make me.” Minox raised one eyebrow, then held out his iron girder-like forearm and pointed away from the club. “Joo go do dat. I vait.” He didn’t sound impressed. I had no desire to tussle with a monster his size, and short of pulling my gun on him, I doubted he’d be moving. There’s a certain mindset to good bodyguards that means they don’t crumble just because you flash a little metal and authority. A faint breeze on my backside announced Swift’s return. She dropped onto the pavement with a click of hooves meeting asphalt, then, with great reluctance in her step, slid around my side and into view - which caused Minox’s whole face to light up, and not just because of diffuse reflection off her day-glow hide. “Svift?! Svift Cuddles! Joo been gone so long!” He bellowed then charged forward and swept the tiny pegasus up off the ground, holding her at arm's length. I almost kicked my trigger up into my lips, but as she dangled there, kicking her hooves and beating her wings, she was... laughing. “Yes, Mr. Minox! Yes, it’s me! Put me down!” He gave her a back-breaking hug, then set her down in front of him. She was still grinning as she caught her breath, but I detected a bit of worry too. Minox seemed oblivious to it as he examined her. “Oh Svift! Ve haf not zeen you in too long! Vy you stay avay?” He peeked at the badge on a string around her throat. “Vat you doing dressed up like law?” I nudged Swift and asked, “Is this beefcake idiot the ‘friend’ you mentioned?” Minox’s blew a breath out of his nostrils at me, filling my own nose with the stench of cheap cigarettes. “At leazt I don’t look like I stuck my head in tumble drier.” Before things could escalate further, Swift took a quick step forward. “This is my new partner, Detective Hard Boiled. I’m an officer now.” I tipped my hat cordially and he afforded me an only slightly less offensive appraisal before Swift continued with only a slight quiver in her tone. “We found one of Miss Stella’s pins on a pony who was killed. I promise we’re not here to make trouble. Can we come in?” The big bull hesitated then pulled a face. “Any ozer pony I zay no.” He reached into the front pocket of his tux and produced a fine toothed comb. “Brush his mane, zen you can go in. If he make any trouble in ze club, I squish him.” Taxi grabbed the comb and threw herself onto my back, forcing me to the ground. I flailed for a bit, but when I started to actually get free, Minox helpfully put one of his rear hooves on my side to keep me still. I tried to keep the howls of discomfort to a minimum as she attacked the tangles in my black ratsnest with a vengeance. Swift had just watched, mouth open, as my yellow friend and the creature assaulted my mane. A moment or two after it was probably necessary, Taxi got off me and Minox let me up. The beast gave me one more glance then grasped my tie, quickly doing it up tight against my throat. “There ve go. Much better. Now joo only look like ragamuffin rather zen my shit. Joo go in, talk to Miss Stella.” He undid the velvet rope then turned and scruffled Swift’s mane. “And joo little one! Joo come back and see old Minox sooner!” As we moved through, Taxi casually flipped her tail and let it drag across the front of Minox’s tuxedo pants. She murmured just loud enough for him to hear, “Oh, I’ll make sure she visits soon!” I wasn’t willing to look closely, but I’m pretty sure his suit got a lot tighter on him. I had to stop and breathe deeply as we passed into the Vivarium’s upper hall. I’d developed a sort of all pervading dampness from traveling from place to place all day in the semi-drizzle and the harsh, driving rains, and the rush of warm, slightly humid air blowing from a pair of industrial fans felt amazing. They’d left the feel of a plain warehouse, with bare fixtures and pipes jutting out of the ground on all sides. I suspected a few of them had been added for ‘effect.’ A freight elevator stood in the middle of the large, empty room, jutting out of the floor with a smiling white unicorn attending it. She wore a sheet wrapped around her that I think was meant to look like a toga. She might have been cute, but everything about her stance radiated ‘Just part of the scenery. Move along.’ As we got into the lift, I turned to Swift and asked, “You wanna tell me what that was all about?” “Sir?” I scowled. I wasn’t really in the mood to put up with more evasion. “You’ve been twitching every time this place is mentioned. Why? What exactly is it that has you so freaked out? How did you know about that pin? How did that lummox know you? What is it you’re hiding?” I backed her up against the rear wall of the elevator and her wings flew out from her sides. She looked everywhere but at me. “Si-sir... I-I...” Taxi grabbed me by the tail and yanked me backwards, then turned me to face her, putting her hooves on my chest. “Hardy, she’s not a suspect. Take a breath.” Swift scooted away from me, not even trying to hide the relief that washed over her face. I felt a pang of irritating guilt. She had things I needed to know, damnit, but Taxi was right. Rather than grilling the rookie right there on her strange associations, I inhaled long and slow then let it out. Peaceful thoughts. The elevator operator was, by this point, repeatedly smacking the bright gold button beside the sliding doors that was the only spot of color in the little box, clearly wanting to get us out of her domain. Her fake smile never budged, but I saw the telltale shine of magic surrounding her horn and a gleam reflecting off something sharp inside her sash. These were not conducive to peaceful thoughts. The descent was slow at first, then picked up speed. I thought we were dropping into a sub-basement by that point, but it just went on and on. I could have sworn we were further from the surface than the top floor of the High Step Hotel when it finally rattled to a stop, and lovely harp music and a low throbbing beat filled the lift. Wherever we were, the air had gone from cold and wet to very warm and sweaty. The smell of many dozens of furry, feathered, or striped bodies in close proximity started to suffuse everything along with another more intense scent: sex. I covered my nose with the sleeve of my coat. The door opened onto a dimly lit scene of moving bodies. Before I could get a better estimation of what all was going on, a maroon demon seemed to fly out of the darkness and take Swift off of her hooves with a foreleg hoofball tackle, knocking her onto her back and placing her in a second dangerously enthusiastic hug for the day. “Oh Swift, Swift, Swift! It’s so good to see you! What’s been going on? How are you? What’ve you been up to? Nice uniform! A little passe, but who am I to judge? Can I see your badge? Minox said you were coming and you’re a cop now! Ooh, can we play with your hoofcuffs?” Again briefly fearing an assault on an officer, I paused halfway to bucking the hyperactive source of the word-torrent into the wall. I’d thought the ‘attacker’ was a large mare; He had far too many well-shaped curves and his hooves were painted silver. But, no, the newcomer was an earth pony stallion the deep red of autumn leaves, with a mane like golden flax. Taxi’s eyes almost popped right out as she stared at him like somepony lost in the desert who’d come across a big glass of chardonnay. Even I could appreciate that this one had left ‘handsome’ behind somewhere weeping with envy; He looked like somepony with a delicate chisel had carved his face from red marble. Swift gave him a none-too-gentle push off of her chest and rolled over. “Ugh... Scarlet, I was hoping we could skip this. We’re not foals anymore!” The pony named Scarlet tapped a hoof against his chin, rolling his eyes in theatric contemplation, before abruptly shouting “Nope!” This drew a few eyes from the crowd of ponies, then a few cheers as he leapt on her and gave her a passionate, tongue-loaded kiss. As Scarlet finally broke the liplock, mostly because I think they were both out of breath, I gestured at Swift’s acquaintance. “I take it this is your friend? Is ‘friend’ what they call that these days?” Swift let out a very Minox-like snort. “Sir, this is Scarlet Petals... and yes, he’s just my friend. Scarlet, this is my partner. Detective Hard Boiled.” She said that last with a little hint of the pride she’d started the day with. I lifted my hoof and he practically leapt on it, giving me a hearty legshake that jiggled my dental fillings. “Oh, Swift makes it sound like such a foalish thing. I’ll leave that little piece of history for her to tell. It’s a pleasure to meet one of our fine city protectors! Minox said you’re here to meet Miss Stella. Can I show you around? We’re happy to have new guests! My, you are a strapping fellow, aren’t you?” I took a bit to work through that, trying to keep up with Scarlet’s verbal barrage. “You mind if I ask how you know Officer Swift?” Swift’s shoulders fell and she looked forlorn. Scarlet picked up on it, and his look of amusement grew. “You haven’t told your partner? Oh, you bad girl! I take it this isn’t a social call if you wanted to avoid that coming out, huh? Not ashamed of your family now, are you?” The pegasus shot into the air and yelled, “Never!” Our elevator operator was starting to look antsy. Before she decided to just toss the lot of us out with magic, I grabbed Swift by the tail, holding her like a kite as I pulled everypony out of the freight lift. ---- It turned out we were in some kind of foyer with a short hallway to the club proper, in which a few dozen ponies were having quiet conversations and sipping drinks. Reclining couches lined the walls. The music afforded a modicum of privacy, so long as you were prepared to keep your voice down. The red carpet led to a pair of swinging doors, and was lined by a row of statues in slightly luminescent plastic or stone. Each one depicted between one and three small ponies in some genuinely creative entanglements. Some were familiar, some were hilarious, and one or two looked downright sinister. Scarlet slid past me, dragging a more shapely hip than I was comfortable with against my side. “Now then, welcome to the Vivarium! I take it everypony besides Swift is on their first visit?” Taxi nodded eagerly, still watching the stallion’s butt as he trotted on ahead. “Excellent! Well, well, well! We’re always glad to get a little new blood around here. If you get the urge to put in a job application I’m sure we can find several interesting positions for a mare as lovely as you, miss...?” “Taxi.” She replied. She had the good grace to blush, then caught herself when she realized what exactly she’d just been offered. Recovering quickly, she inquired: “What’s your position here, Mr. Petals?” “Oh, honey, you can call me Scarlet. I’m Miss Stella’s secretary. When somepony needs something, I get it, or I know somepony who can. I’m also available on the Red Light Menu for private encounters. I’m expensive, but I promise I’m worth it. Come along then; It’ll be a little while before the Mistress is ready to see you, but I can at least show you around a bit! If you have any questions, feel free to ask.” Scarlet pushed open the swinging doors to the club itself, and my first impression was of a wall of solid noise hitting me in the chest. If the bass had been impressive outside, in the central chamber it was deafening. My eardrums immediately started to ache, and my bones felt like they were being shaken by the world itself. I realized then why the club was underground; Their sound-system must have violated the same laws as private ownership of lightning cannons. The operator of this quasilegal sound system was on an upraised music station behind a sheet of clear perspex; a neon pink unicorn draped in about a thousand glowsticks spinning and dancing between a set of six turntables. He had a pair of bright red goggles strapped around his head; a sort of badge of office that DJ’s had taken on in the last thirty years, for some reason. The rest of the club was even darker in here than out in the foyer. Flashing lights and twisting lasers made the room seem alien and unusual. Most of the details were lost in the constant motion of the special effects, but I could make out the broad outlines. The Vivarium’s heart was a grand amphitheater. Ponies, zebras, griffins, and even a few of the less common species lay between tables on cushions or sprawled in curtained booths. The same shocking statuary was everywhere, forced into a dramatic glow by ultraviolet lighting. At the center of the amphitheatre, instead of a stage, was a pool into which you could have fit my entire apartment block. A few ponies splashed and played, engaged in mostly harmless-seeming fun. In the flourescent darkness, I couldn’t actually see any of the various creatures in the enormous chamber in active copulation. It wouldn’t have surprised me, but I then, I didn’t frequent these kinds of places on principle. **** Scarlet led us towards one of the booths and invited us all to sit. I had no idea how we were going to have a conversation in the deafening din, until he reached up and brushed a blue gem on a panel just inside the little alcove. The noise level dropped to a pleasant murmur. “What sort of magic is that?” My driver asked breathlessly, reaching over and lightly stroking the talisman; by some unseen mechanism, the bass returned to full, wince-inducing blast. She hastily teased it in the other direction, and we were again in the cell of peaceful silence. “It’s a feature of the security system, deary. Ask the Mistress about it if you really want to know more, but don’t hold your breath for too many answers. We take our security and privacy very seriously. Here, let me get some refreshments. On the house, of course, and only the best for our fine officers!” He made a kissy face at Swift and she ducked her head, adjusting her badge and heavily wrinkled uniform self consciously. “I’d rather just see Stella so we can get out of your mane.” Scarlet tapped a diamond on the table and the word ‘Waiter’ lit up on the wall in big white letters. Swift moved closer and leaned up to speak into my ear. “Sir, we’re being watched.” She gestured with her short-cut tail to the upper corner of the ceiling. A tiny security camera’s glittering lens followed us intently. “Is there a reason you feel the need to spy on us?” I asked Scarlet. pointing at the eye watching over my shoulder. Scarlet bounced delightedly on his hooftips. “Oh, yes! Mistress Stella has been taking an interest since you came down the elevator. I was sent to greet you. You shouldn’t be surprised. This is a sanctuary. Crimes ponies commit outside don’t matter to us, but if you’re making the customers nervous we’re going to take certain precautions. We’d ask if you’re here to arrest anypony, that you do it outside. We are also aware of some members of the police force who have less than honorable connections with some of the organized crime factions in the city who would love to see the Vivarium closed or brought to heel.” I felt a swirl of anger; I don’t like head games, and something about this situation felt distinctly like a setup to something. Forcibly calming myself, I tugged up the corners of my mouth in what I hoped was a genuine enough smile to fool the camera. “Alright. No problem then. We’re not here to arrest anypony.” “I’m afraid Miss Stella and the Vivarium haven’t survived on words and promises. Do you know of the plant called ‘Truth Bloom?’” He asked, running his tongue over his full lips. “Oh Scarlet, no... that’s not necessary!” Swift protested, her tail lashing back and forth. Scarlet closed his eyes. “You know Mistress Stella won’t see them without it. Once the mistress’ mind is made up, it’s made up.” Taxi spent a moment mentally consulting her extensive knowledge of pharmacology, and when it clicked her eyes went wide. “Doesn’t that come from the Seeds of Truth? Those are poisonous!” Scarlet inclined his head. “The seeds are, yes. The plant’s flower isn’t, though if you tell a lie it will instantly rot in your belly and make you sick. The Mistress insists, as a show of trust between us, that certain precautions are taken.” I didn’t care to hide my displeasure. “I thought there wasn’t a solid magical method for getting truth from somepony?” Stella’s secretary chewed at his lower lip. “There isn’t. The plant works largely on whether or not you think you’re telling the truth. A pony who has had extensive preparation might control themselves, but they’d be very uncomfortable and Miss Stella is very perceptive.” Taxi growled, “Your ‘mistress’ wants to dope us? You can go straight to the moon!” Scarlet frowned and trotted around the table to her side, gently resting his head on her shoulder. “I’m sorry you feel that way. I’m enjoying your company, though, and if you want to spend the evening once my duties are finished, my time is my own.” Taxi turned such a fiery shade of pink I thought her face would explode. Swift tugged on my coat insistently until I lowered my head to her mouth level again. “Sir, if Miss Stella trusts you then everypony here will give you all the help you could ever want. If you don’t do this, we won’t get anything at all, even with me here.”          There’s a certain paranoia that pervades the grey-areas of underground markets, both those that operate within the law and those which skirt it. Participation in tests of this sort, while not uncommon, was frowned upon by the police establishment. We’re meant to use our badges and warrants to get information, and one never knows what one will give up while under the influence. But I felt no particular malice or threat from these ponies, and it wasn’t like we had much to give up.          “Alright, kid. I’m trusting you. I’m going to want some answers later on.” She bobbed her head affirmatively. “Yes, sir. I promise, I’ll tell you everything you want to know.” I was about to respond when a real stunner of a unicorn swept into our booth like a diva taking the stage. She was so white she glowed under the ultraviolet lighting. A set of menus hung in the air beside her head, floating in a pearly levitation field. She wore several horn rings on that glowing spire; Not a common piece of jewelry, but they were coming back into style. She looked a little out of breath, like she’d just come from a brisk run. “Svelte! I didn’t know you were working tonight.” Scarlet exclaimed. The waitress scuffed a tastefully painted hoof bashfully on the carpet. “Well, I need the hours. You don’t think Miss Stella will mind?” “I doubt it. Could you get us two of Miss Stella’s Truth Bloom Specials for my friends here, a banana cream for me, and a-” He paused, then made a kissy face at Swift who ducked her head self-consciously. “- A cherry chocolate shake for this fine officer.” Svelte didn’t write down the order, but her lips were moving the entire time as though performing mental calculations. Something about her was vaguely unsettling, in a way I couldn’t quite pin down. It might have been that her eyes were a little sharp for a waitress, but what did that prove? Swift was a little small to be a cop. I dismissed the funny feeling as a case of too much intrigue in one day. “Coming right up!” She answered cheerfully, and then she was gone. The menus followed her out. I dropped my rump onto the big, soft sitting pillow and put one hoof on the table. “My driver is conspiring against me with regard to anything pertinent about this ‘Stella’ person, and if I ruin her fun she’ll ruin my spine. It’s a sick revenge for me being an ass this morning.” Taxi quirked her lip, clearly pleased with her little game. “Do you mind if I ask a few questions about some other things?” Scarlet sat forward. “Oh, please do! That’s what I’m here for after all.” Poking my mouth into my coat, I extracted a small notepad and a pencil, pushing them over to Swift. She picked up the pencil dutifully and flipped to a fresh page. “Have any of your ponies gone missing lately?” He tucked his tail around his side, tilting his head as though listening to something. I noticed a tiny black rock stuck in his ear, which was most likely some type of short wave radio or speaker. After several seconds he replied, “I’m afraid that’s one question the mistress wants to answer. Anything else is fine though.” I shrugged and moved on. “Alright, no problem. The Stilettos. What can you tell me about them?” Scarlet considered this, and his speaker-laden ear twitched. “That I can answer. What do you know about the founding of our fine city?” I shook my head. “What I learned in school, same as everypony. Detrot started off as a bump-on-the-map trading post and a retreat for the Princesses. A hundred and some odd years ago, they found gems. After that, there was a boom and the city grew until about thirty back when it all dried up. What does that have to do with the Stilettos? I thought they were just inhouse guards.” Sliding into that same pose Swift used for recitation, Scarlet beamed at the chance to show his knowledge. “Half right. Back in the early days when mares had a foal out of wedlock or when a stallion got injured and couldn’t work the mines, they were just an extra mouth to feed in a place where everything was scarce. They’d get thrown out of town, or a lot of them were forced into prostitution. It was a pretty rough time, but they found an old mine-shaft to the cave where the club is now; they moved in and made it a brothel. The Vivarium grew with Detrot, servicing all the beings that came through.” “What does that have to do with the Stilettos?” I asked impatiently. He let his withers settle on the floor as he continued. “I’m getting there! The Stilettos began as the foals of the first generation protecting their mothers and fathers from marauding animals, bandits, and unruly townsfolk. After a few years some zebras and griffins joined us, bringing their own martial arts.” “So how does Stella play into that?” Scarlet put his hoof over his lips. “Sorry, not my place to say. The Mistress likes to make introductions personally.” He then peered at Swift, who’d just finished writing down every word of that considerable monologue. “Swift, love, why are you taking this down? You know all that.” He inquired. Her ears colored and she spoke around her pencil. “Ish not for me!” Just then, our waitress returned with the drinks carefully balanced on a floating tray. In front of Swift, she set down an enormous glass full of chocolate ice-cream and bits of diced cherry, which the pegasus immediately dug into. Scarlet took a few bites off the whole banana sticking out of his, then waited whilst Svelte set two fluted wine-glasses in front of Taxi and me. As she was leaving, I locked eyes with the tall unicorn for an instant; My cutie-mark trembled. Then she was off again. I looked to the glasses. The liquid therein was the shade of brown I usually associate with an open septic tank. It smelled like a mixture of cheese doodles, sour cream, and garlic. “So, if I drink this, how long does it take effect for? I don’t need to be puking for a week straight if I’m trying to interview suspects and need to tell little white lies.” Scarlet pushed the truth serum a little closer to me. “A half-hour at most. Don’t worry, you only need a sip-” Before he could finish that sentence, I’d already picked up the drink, tilted my head back, and tossed the entire thing down. To my surprise it was kind of sweet; a bit reminiscent of cucumbers covered in whipped cream. Swift let out a ragged wheeze and her muzzle fell open. The lump of cherry she’d been chewing her way through fell onto the table. Scarlet’s whole face went slack and he simply stared like I’d just grown a second head. When she finally found words, my partner stuttered, “S-sir! Y-you’re... only supposed to have a sip!” I lowered the empty glass, turning it over and setting it lightly on the table in front of me. “So I’d really best not tell any lies then. This is me trusting you, kid. If you’ve just killed me you’d best remember that for your next partner.” Swift looked stricken. Taxi took a quick pull from hers, made a face, swallowed it, then pushed her glass away. Scarlet looked badly flustered. The sense of control he’d been carefully building throughout this little meeting was gone. His magnificently shaped nose was out of joint and a little tremor shot up his legs. I admit it was a little satisfying to know something could shake him. Before he could recover completely, I lifted my face and addressed the person watching through the camera. “You want to know if I’m clean, I’m clean. I’m a cop and I’m here to ask some questions. I don’t know what kind of trouble you’re having with the mob, but I suspect it might have something to do with why I’m here, so let’s get down to brass tacks.” A soft hum filled the booth, then Scarlet inhaled sharply. “Alright. The Mistress wants me to ask you just one question then.” I stomped a hoof. “Get on with it.” Scarlet steadied himself, pulling all of his considerable charm into a devil-may-care smirk. “I... I’ve just... never seen anypony drink the whole thing before. Anyway, the mistress wants to know: are you now, or have you ever been, in possession of a Crusader-class weapon?” I swung my coat back off of the dark steel of my father’s revolver. Its pleasant weight had always given me a sense of safety in even the most dire times, and sitting there in the Vivarium with a magical truth drug working its way through me had a way of making things feel pretty dire. Still, I wanted this stupid test over with. “I’ve got no idea what a Crusader-class weapon is. We’re just here to talk.” I opened the breach and bent my knee so the cartridge popped out, then removed its twin from the autoloader. Setting them both on the booth, I shoved the ammunition across the seat towards Scarlet. He gathered it up and dropped it into the bottom of his half-finished milk-shake.          Taxi held her hooves up placatingly, also speaking to the camera. “I don’t like weapons.” Scarlet touched his earpiece and his smile became a little more genuine. “The Mistress will see you now.” **** Moving between tables and swerving to avoid rushing waiters, I felt the back of my neck itching; somepony was still observing me with more than casual interest. I did look a bit out of place, but no moreso than my partner or Taxi, neither of whom seemed to be drawing undue attention. Actually, my driver was picking up more than a few gawking eyes from the gathered crowd, strutting along with that high tailed swagger one tends to see in alleycats on the prowl. Swift was trotting alongside Scarlet. I sped up and pushed between them, putting my mouth close to the other stallions ear. He casually pressed himself against my side and wiggled his tail end. I did my best to ignore it. “Are you one of the Stilettos?” I asked as quietly as was feasible. The DJ was off into his evening routine and the noise was only building. Scarlet giggled like a filly. “Me? Heavens no. Do I look like some kind of knife-play expert?” He jerked his chin at a stout pegasus leaning on one of the support pillars. She was dressed in the same white toga as the unicorn in the elevator. Like most skilled bodyguards, she didn’t stare at me directly, but I was pretty sure she was at least aware of my every move. “The visible guards wear the white toga, which means they’re not available for engagements. The ones who are working on the other side of things wear whatever they want to.” As we passed the pegasus, I caught sight of several tiny blades tucked between her folded wing-feathers. A sudden, unsettling thought occurred to me. “You mind if I ask what would have happened if I had actually tried to get in here with a warrant?” He gave me a seductive wink. “You’d have gotten to take a longer tour and talk to me for a few more hours, then you’d have walked away with nothing. I wouldn’t have minded the company though.” Much to my chagrin, he leaned over and affectionately rubbed his head up against my neck. I stumbled away from him, almost stepping on a couple of unicorns who were engaged in a make-out session on the carpet; Swift gave him a quick smack on the back of the head with one wing and hissed, “Scarlet! Stop hitting on everypony! You’re embarrassing me!” The escort stuck out his lower lip and pouted. I don’t know what I expected from a part time personal assistant and sex worker, but I had to strenuously fight the urge to kick him, if only because doing so would have put another damper on Swift’s terrible first day. Somepony making a pass at me on the job to throw me off my game wasn’t unusual, but it was a new thing to have a frighteningly pretty colt doing it. I quickly dropped back beside Taxi, who was off in her own thoughts, her eyes firmly planted on Scarlet’s rear. Scarlet directed us to a small passage discretely hidden behind a red felt curtain on a wall near the bar. There were two toga-wrapped Stilettos, a powerfully built zebra mare and a baby-faced earth pony stallion who might have been Swift’s age, standing on either side at what they seemed to think was a sexy variation of military attention. They dipped their heads respectfully at the secretary as we passed. Once out of the central chamber, the passage’s walls became more like what they were originally; a dynamite-blasted mine. The raw stone glittered with an internal light that was just enough to see by. We descended further, and the music dropped until the only sound coming back to us was the echoing of our own hooves on rock. Just as I was about to ask Scarlet where in Celestia’s name we were going, the cave widened and spread out, disappearing into the distance. The air was, if anything, hotter than in the club itself and sweat instantly formed and trickled down my neck. An aroma of expensive perfume rolled over us, but there was still nothing to see in the thick darkness. Our guide touched a ruby the size of my head on the floor and light burst from every side. I staggered, covering my poor abused eyes with my fedora. Once I could see again, it became apparent that we were in a cavern that rivaled the central chamber of the Vivarium in size, but which was much better lit. Every inch of the domed ceiling was awash in gemstones of every shape and color, providing a warm ambient glow that felt almost like sunlight. The jewels seemed to form a mosaic of abstract pictures of cavorting animals of every species I knew, and a few that weren’t familiar. A reflecting pool so still it might have been a perfect mirror owned the far end of the room. It was altogether breathtaking. Scarlet trotted over to the pool and turned, sliding onto his foreknees and putting his head on the floor in a deeply submissive bow. “May I present, Mistress Stella.” He announced. Nothing happened for several seconds. All I could hear was my own breathing. For a moment, I thought it was almost my imagination, but then there was a sound very like a flushing urinal; a very, very large urinal coming closer at a terrifying speed. It built and built, and just as I was getting the notion that maybe I should step back, the pool seemed to explode, throwing up a wave of water that flew straight to the ceiling. For two seconds, it was raining inside. I tumbled onto my bottom, scrambling backwards from the blast and covering my head with my legs. Silence fell again, and I dared to peer out. I found myself looking into a slitted yellow eyeball as large my head. Stella is a dragon. My legs gave out and I collapsed onto my belly. The thought kept playing in my head like a broken record. Stella is a dragon. There’s nothing in the world that really prepares you for meeting a fully-grown dragon. Most ponies outside the P.A.C.T. might see them at a distance once or twice in their lives, and even then nothing conveys just how bloody terrifying they are up close. The mind is not prepared to discuss a creature of that size in any rational way. Stella’s head easily filled my vision. It was purple. A rich, royal purple. The scales on the great serpent’s face looked soft and well polished. With a sort of detachment, I noticed its lips were painted a vivid red the same shade as Scarlet’s pelt, and it wore a big feather duster-sized pair of fake eyelashes. The body was a sweeping series of economy-sized muscular tubes, all wrapped one over top of the other like a snake. Its face seemed vaguely like a dog’s, with a long and rounded snout, though with much larger teeth that jutted above its upper and lower lip, and sweeping flukes back on it’s forehead and neck. There was a very irritating screaming noise coming from somewhere, and I realized with some embarrassment that it was me. I quickly shut my mouth and tried to recompose myself, dignity gone. For what felt like a long time, we simply watched one another. Slowly, Stella slid closer, the room filling with the soft hiss of shifting scales. I shored up my resolve and held still, although I couldn’t stop the quaking in my thighs. The very animal parts of my brain all wanted to flee.   An extremely slick forked tongue eased out and gave me a solid lick from groin to forehead that sent me rolling over onto my back, scrabbling for my bit trigger. I realized my gun wasn’t loaded just as I yanked on it and the hammer came down on an empty chamber, clicking in a way that sounded almost apologetic. The dragon laughed, deep and loud, unperturbed by my attempt to put a bullet into his hide. It was a very male laugh, despite the eyelashes. After it’d gone on for several seconds I registered Taxi behind me, also giggling like a maniac, and started to feel a bit self-conscious. “What?! I passed your little test! Was that really necessary?!” I snapped, which only made them both laugh louder. Finally, when they’d both wrung themselves out, the dragon wound down to a polite cough and replied in a rich baritone that put me in mind of an opera singer, though with an extremely feminine cadence. “Oh, my dear darling little stallion! I couldn’t resist. You looked so serious!” My blood boiled; I was about to say something nasty which would probably have risked getting me eaten when Swift took a little hopping jump with her wings and landed beside me. “Hello Auntie Stella!” Stella let out a dramatic gasp, putting one thin forearm on his lips. “Oh deary me, is that our sweet little bird come back to the nest?” His smile of pleasure was frightening to behold, largely because I could have used his teeth for the doorposts of my apartment. My partner lifted off and flew over, giving Stella a tiny kiss on a cheek the size of a barn door, then setting down on one of his coils and tucking her legs under her. “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry I’ve been away so long. This is my new partner. I finally... I finished my training. I joined the Detrot Police Department.” She couldn’t keep a quaver out of her voice. Stella picked up on her disappointment almost instantly. “You don’t sound very happy about it, darling. If I remember correctly, weren’t you meant to be joining that ghastly group of monster hunters in the PACT? I thought you might bring a touch of class to that ridiculous operation.” Swift’s blue eyes slid down and she stared at a spot on the serpent’s violet underbelly. “I... didn’t make it into the PACT. Oh, auntie, I failed! Celestia, I failed so bad... I can’t fire any of the large weapons. I’m too small!” I thought she might weep just then, but Stella swept her up gently, cradling her against his powerful breast. “There, there, little bird. You’ve made your way and will still defend ponies. That was always your dream, yes? If those fools in the PACT shan’t have you, then those that will had best appreciate you.” There was something distinctly motherly in the way the beast held her, lightly stroking her stubbly red mane back. My partner drew herself in and stood, walking up onto Stella’s shoulder and turning to face me. My brain was finally starting to get into gear again after having had most of the higher gears torn out and lightly stomped by the grand presence of the sea serpent. Taxi was still laying on her back, letting out occasional weak giggles. I tromped over and pulled her up. “I bet you think that was funny, don’t you?” I said crossley. “It was so worth it!” “I’m going to put pepper spray in your socks one of these days.” “Still worth it.” She replied, her smile unmoved. Stella watched us with amusement, idly grooming Swift’s tail with one claw-tip. “Now then, Detective, I’d love to meet the very pretty mare you’ve brought into my boudoir. ” Formalities aside, I decided to take the polite tack. It wasn’t just that there was a dragon in the room, though that can quickly improve anypony’s manners. I pulled my badge from around my neck and set it on the ground in front of me. “Detective Hard Boiled. This is my driver, Taxi. We’re here on official business.” Lifting Swift off of his shoulder, he set her down beside me and then sprawled on his side, reclining in the pool with his chin on one palm. “I know who you are, Detective.” I gave him a skeptical look and he amended, “I’ve seen some of your previous work and quite admired your ‘tactful’ way of dealing with the press. Oh, and lovely to meet you, Missus Taxi. I say, you have the most curious coloration, even for you ponies! Is that dye of some kind? It’s very pretty.”   Taxi twirled her checkered braid around one hoof, enjoying the flattery. “It’s ‘miss’. I’m not married... and thank you! It’s hereditary. My family suspects there might have been a bit of zebra somewhere in our history, though I’m the first with black and white.” The dragon shifted his enormous weight. My driver stood her ground as he came close, gently lifting one of her hooves and touching the tip of it with his tongue. It was a very silly, cordial, and courtly gesture, but Taxi flushed with pleasure anyway. “Wonderful to make your acquaintance.” “Oooh, a gentlebeing... unlike some ponies I could name.” Taxi gave me a momentary, pointed glare. “What? You could have told me we’d be interviewing a sea serpent, but no, you had to have your little game. I almost pissed myself!” I snarled, poking her in the side. “I know! It was great!” She replied, swatting away my leg. Letting Taxi see she’d riled me would only make the teasing worse later. I raised my chin, trying not to squint against the glow coming from the ceiling, and let the tension in my neck relax. Stella didn’t seem a hostile sort, and so I went into that comforting place in the mind, inside the cloak of professionalism. It’s a place without fear; if I were to die, I’d have died doing the job. “Niceties aside, I’m wondering if you might be of assistance. We’re here about a mare.” I said, pulling my hat off and setting it to one side. Stella studied his beautifully manicured claws. “There are many mares here if one has caught your interest...” “Specifically, a corpse.” “Well, if you have a shovel, I’m sure we might direct you to a nearby cemetery. Who am I to stop you beating off on a dead horse?”          My brain stalled completely. Twice in as many minutes the wily dragon had managed to throw me for a loop. I closed my eyes and tried one of Taxi’s little breathing exercises. When I opened them again, Stella was covering his mouth with one claw and his muscular shoulders were shaking. I realized he was, again, laughing at me. Swift had lowered herself to the ground and looked content to let the grownups talk, although I was feeling less and less like an adult the longer this conversation went on. “Look, damnit, this is an official police interview! I need information!” I grouched, but it was like complaining to a mountain. “I’m so sorry, darling, but you remind me so much of him...” “Who do you mean?” I asked, trying to even out my breathing. Anger isn’t useful in a police investigation and I was desperately clinging to the idea that that’s what this was. Too many oddities in too short a period does tend to unhinge a pony.         “Why, your father, of course. You’re almost as sexy as he was.” I gaped at him, my tail flopping between my rear legs as I tried not to think about that sentence. “My... father...” “Yes, the Hard Boiled Senior? You are his son?” Stella took my stunned-fish expression as a signal to continue. “He used to frequent my establishment in pursuit of his professional entrapments. You’ve got his eyes. I never did manage to get him to partake of any of the pleasures I have on offer. Who would have thought the old war-horse would have gone and got himself a wife and child?” “...He never mentioned you.” I muttered. After a brief consideration, it occurred to me: why would he have? How would it have gone? ‘Hi, son, I’m back from work, and I just met a draconic transvestite in charge of a whorehouse!’ 'That’s just swell, dad.’ “I’m not surprised.” Stella boomed. “Never to speak ill of the dead, but he was a terrible stick in the mud. I do remember him very fondly though. I’m glad to see his son took up the call, though I’m staggered you haven’t been down for a little tete-a-tete before now. My Stilettos must be doing their jobs quite well.” He hooked my badge on a claw and picked it up, studying it closely In any interrogation situation it’s best to keep your questions short and to the point. It leaves less room for obfuscation. Unfortunately, looking back at the entirety of my knowledge of police procedure, I couldn’t find a single manual I’d ever read that dealt with interviewing a dragon. I decided to improvise. “I work equicide. The Heights aren’t exactly a hotbed of violence. Do you mind if I ask how you are associated with the Vivarium?” Swift piped up. “Auntie Stella gave his hoard to the construction. The original cavern was his home; he found the outcasts of old Detrot trying to build shelters on the shore of the bay.” “That seems terribly generous for a dragon.” I commented. Stella turned in a circle, sweeping his arms at the gem studded ceiling art and the complex surrounding us. “Do I look like a case for the poor house? I have always believed in ‘investing’ and you ponies have never been a bad one. Endlessly innovative, forever growing, forever building... I simply saw the writing on the wall. Your P.A.C.T. continues to make life interesting for my brethren, but I am at peace.” Shucking my coat, I pawed through it until I found the plastic baggie with the snake ring in it. Passing it to Swift I waited as she took off and dropped it on Stella’s outstretched palm. “Less peaceful than you think. I need information. This was found on a dead filly, a unicorn, in an alleyway at the High Step Hotel this morning. She’d been chased off the roof-top and took a diving leap. Grey body, grey mane, strange cutie-mark that looked like a red moon with cherry stems. She had some expensive custom jewelry on.” Stella turned the ring over and brought one eye close, which narrowed. “Mmm, yes... this is one of mine. I’m afraid I haven’t had a mare in my employ who was grey on grey for nearly fifty years, though, and that cutie-mark doesn’t sound familiar. I do know some of my girls have lately taken to dying themselves interesting shades at customer request. Is there anything else you might reveal?” I thought back then nodded. “She took the penthouse and signed her name ‘Princess Luna’ in the guest book. Paid cash.” The dragon contemplated this, smoothing down his belly scales before he said bluntly, “There’s something you’re not telling me, deary. If you want my help, it’s best to trust. Do I seem the type who’d dash off to the newspaper foals with a hot tidbit of gossip for the presses?” It’s not operational policy to reveal everything in any given case, but then, I was way off operational standards. The Chief employs me because I get results, not because I follow the book. “They removed her horn. It looks like she was alive when they did it.” Stella’s eyes seemed to light with inner fire and a curl of smoke rose from his nose. “They did what?! Are you certain? It wasn’t damaged in the fall?” He boomed, shaking my teeth in my head. Even Swift cowered from the dragon’s furor. Suddenly, Stella was inches from me. I could smell his last meal, which was something spicy and charred to a crisp. I managed to overpower the desire to run for the passageway; I was deep within the professional cloak, where death is not an option without answers. I pushed at his chin ineffectually with my forelegs and he backed off, anger still sending little gouts of super-heated air out of his nostrils. “They cut her horn off. I need any information you might have on employees who’ve gone missing lately. Anything at all will help. Scarlet said you’d had some issues at some point with one of the crime families in the area?” Stella forced his rage down with a visible effort, and brought his tail around, teasing out the fins and stroking them. “Thank you for bringing this to me. My Stilettos will handle it from here. Good day, darling stallion. I do hope we meet again.” He began to sink back into his pool and Scarlet, who’d been kneeling the entire time with his cheek on the ground, lifted himself back to his hooves. I rushed forward until my legs hit the water, splashing in several steps until it came up around my knees, “Wait! We’re not done here!” The dragon stopped his slow descent and flipped his tail, sending a wave across the pool that soaked my stomach fur. “Yes, we are. Give me a day and I’ll see what I can come up with, then I will get in touch with you. Until then, good day.” He turned his golden snake’s eyes on Swift who sat a little straighter. “Go see your grandmare, little bird. She misses you.” Then he was gone, disappearing into the depths. I’d been dismissed. He dismissed me... and short of getting a PACT team and the world’s biggest pair of hoofcuffs I couldn’t think of a thing I could do about it. Damn. For a few moments, I stood there half in the water, fuming pointlessly... and then something Stella had said finally and unpleasantly sunk in. “Wait, what did he say? Your grandmare works in a whorehouse?!” Swift covered her entire body with her wings, hiding. So much for not making her day any worse.