Blueberry Crush had been avoiding Question’s gaze for as long as possible. Everytime he turned his attention to her she did everything she could to avoid any direct conversation, and if she couldn’t, she had kept it as short and unhelpful as possible. There was no dodging him now though. The moment she walked through the door he could see the resigned look upon her face. His eyes drifted back down to the logo on her hoodie, and then back to her youthful form. This was a filly in way over her head, he would have to be delicate here.
“Miss Crush, take a seat please.” He greeted her with a simple nod. She gave him no proper response except a tiny grunt. “Before we begin, I have to ask you one simple question; do you know why you are here today?”
“Cause of your ego?”
“Ah, there she is,” he thought dryly. “Besides that.”
“Cause somepony drew something on the traitor.”
“There we are,” Question muttered, jotting a quick note down with his wing. “Now, where should we begin with you? How about-”
“Wait a sec!” Rainbow burst through the door, nearly sending Lens Turner muzzle first into a wall. Her eyes darted around to everypony, but she gave Lens a much longer, harsher stare.
“Rainbow, are you alright?” Question asked. Rainbow remembered that tone fondly. She looked at him and finally recognised the stallion staring back at her. His hardened edge smoothed away, he regarded her like he did before, filled with love, compassion and wonder. Yet she could also see the genuine concern on his face. He was worried about her. It made Rainbow’s heart skip a beat and she found herself unable to speak.
“Yeah, course, is Rainbow alright...” Lens angrily muttered as she picked herself off the floor.
“Sorry”, Rainbow said weakly, flattening her ears against her head. “Nothings wrong, just wanted to see if you guys were alright is all.”
“Were fine, nothing to worry about. Just in the middle of interviews right now.” A steely gaze returned to his iris as he motioned for her to leave. Yet Rainbow remained firm.
“I wanna stay. Help out here if I can,” she stated. A curious tension filled the room, not one of the four of them were certain exactly what was going on, but as Question continued to look at his marefriend, her feelings of worry and suspicion started to overwhelm him. “Quest, please.” The moment the words left her lips, her coltfirend made a most unexpected move.
“Actually, that’s not a bad idea. Lens, why don't you have a wander around the museum for me, see if you can find me any last minute clues? You’ve always had a knack for these things. Can’t hurt to do one more sweep of the area?”
“I suppose I can do that. Need anything else?” She gritted her teeth, clearly annoyed at her sudden dismissal. Yet she did not argue the point further.
“Don’t think so. I’m sure Miss Dash would be more than happy to take over your role. Right, Rainbow?”
“Yes, sir!” She gave him a salute and stepped aside to let Lens leave. The journalist did so, but not quite willingly. She gave them each a strange look before trotting away. Rainbow closed the door behind her, and without missing a beat, Question picked back up from where he left off.
“Now, why don’t we start with your affiliates?”
“My what?” Blueberry asked. He thought she was playing with him again, until he realised she genuinely didn’t know what he meant.
“The group you belong to; the cult solar.”
“It’s not a cult.”
“Oh? What would you call it then?”
“My friends.”
“Do these friends make you wear the symbol? Donate money to the cause? Tow the line with their rules and beliefs?”
“... yes.”
“Right, so what happens when you don’t do any of the above?” She didn’t answer, but she didn’t have to. Her silence was answer enough. “Cause if it was anything like ‘you’re out.’ Then they’re not your friends.”
“You don’t understand,” she grunted at him.
“I do understand,” he responded calmly, not breaking eye contact with her.
“No, you don’t. You think you do cause you read things about them or ponies like them, but you’ll never get it.”
“I don’t have to, because I’ve been in your horseshoes. I know exactly what it's like to be part of a cult.”
“You do?” Both Rainbow and Crush said simultaneously. Blueberry’s words filled with doubt, but Dash’s laced with surprise. He turned to face his marefriend, his expression quickly morphing into a tired one. He now looked like a stallion ten years his senior.
Daedalus stepped into the room. He had noticed the disappearance of Rainbow quite quickly and trailed her footsteps to the small back room. He could not have picked a better time to join them. He clutched his claws tightly as he sensed the apprehension in the small space. He looked upon Question and saw a familiar weary expression. The Detective looked back at Blueberry and gave her a gente nod.
“You were broken, left wandering the world with no hope in sight. That’s who they look for, the broken, the vulnerable, the ones looking for a purpose in the world. The thing is you don't have to believe a thing they say, you can go through the whole pomp and circumstance but you don't need to care about that. All you need is the feeling of being needed, wanted, that your part of something bigger than yourself. That you have a purpose. I know exactly how that feels, Blueberry. I know that whatever role you think you’re playing, you’re nothing but a pawn to them.”
The room went quiet. Daedalus could feel his friend begin to break. Memories better left dead and buried clawed their way to the surface, but Question held himself together. Rainbow wanted to say something, anything to her coltfriend. However, she didn’t have a clue what or even if she should. Yet she also couldn’t bare the silence that trapped them all within this place. Blueberry’s face was unreadable, but her eyes betrayed her. Both of them knew he had her nailed to the letter.
“So let me assure you, Miss Crush. I’ve been there, I got out, barely alive but I did it. Paid my fair share of dues along the way. If there's any pony in this whole world that can relate to what’s going inside your head, it’s me. Let me help you and stop fighting me.”
“Atta boy,” The king’s heart swelled with pride. He smiled a big goofy grin and resisted the urge to hug an image he knew he could not hold. “Look how you’ve grown.”
“Quest,” Rainbow whispered so quietly not a soul could hear her, except the monarch standing by her side. He saw a tear well up in her eye as she turned away from the scene, unable to keep her eyes on them. She worried she might break as these foreign sensations overwhelmed her.
Daedalus could sense her sympathy, her hurt at seeing one she cared for so dearly on the verge of despair. Yet he could also feel the resentment in her, the little demon on her shoulder stocking the flames of her fear that she didn’t know him at all. Question had lived a lifetime already, and it was clear she had barely scratched the surface of his story. She hated that she felt this way.
“That’s still a lot of assuming you’re doing,” Blueberry finally replied, not betraying a hint of softness in her voice.
“I’ve been making a lot of assumptions today, going with my gut mostly, and trust me, I hate it. This is the detective's version of Prussian roulette. Yet sometimes you just gotta roll the dice and hope for the best. I note that you didn’t say I was wrong…”
“Just ask your stupid questions,” she relented, resting her head on the table.
“Right well let's continue with that line of thought; give me some background, how did the cult solar recruit you?”
“That really important?”
“I don’t know yet, guess we'll find out won't we.”
“I was fourteen, got out of juvie, I met a pony there who was part of their junior division. I just sort of fit right in. Been part of it for four years now.”
“So to clarify, you are a recognised member of the cult solar?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Now that is very interesting, as it makes your presence here tonight just that bit more confusing for me.” He leant back in his seat and looked up at the ceiling. “Why are there no other members of the cult here?”
“Don’t need them. I can go on my own.”
“No you can’t,” Question fired back.
“Why can’t I?” Blueberry quickly became defensive again.
“Yeah, why can’t she?” Rainbow asked, genuinely confused.
“Cult Solar members can’t operate alone,” Daedalus answered.
“The cult solar never go on solo operations. They always move in groups, making the guard have to scramble to get all of them, so more likely at least one escapes.” Question answered as well.
“Yeah, that,” Daedalus affirmed with a chuckle.
“So to clarify once more, you came here all alone tonight?”
“Yeah,” she sighed.
“And you know what? I believe you. I have not seen one sign of any direct solar activity, cause if you were working in official capacity, that means they would’ve tried something by now to bust you out. Unless they developed another brain cell they don’t have to share amongst the several hundred of them.”
“Harsh, but fair, “ Daedalus added.
“So that means you came here for your own reasons, very curious indeed.”
“I mean I can just not like Luna. Snobby uptight bitch, gets off the moon and given everything she can want in a cushy castle room. I had to fight for everything I had and I still get barely enough to get by.”
“That’s possibly the most you’ve said to me in one go, I see I’ve touched a sore spot.” He mused, with a smug smile. Blueberry could only respond with a roll of her eyes. “So let's discuss that then, is it less about the monarchy for you, and more about classism?”
Blueberry suddenly lost her voice again as she looked away from him. He knew he was on the right track for sure.
“If we are to break down what we know about you now, it paints a curious picture. You’re a pony born into poverty, you joined this cult to have some food and support, and yet you chose to abandon that backup when approaching one of the most revered portraits in the land. Why? Because this is not a cult solar operation, you truly are on your lonesome. So now I ask a simple question; did you deface the painting?”
“No!” She snapped quickly.
“So why did you come here then? To enjoy the art? How did you even get in? I doubt you were on the guest list.”
“It was easy to get in. There’s a back entrance for staff, just waited for a pony to open the door, then I threw a card in the way so it couldn’t close properly.”
“Classic!” Daedalus and Question boomed simultaneously. “Stopped the door from locking itself then waltz right in. Amazing how often that trick works.”
“So you break in often then?” Rainbow asked accusedly.
“What’s it to you?”
“I don’t care about that,” Question deftly cut in, raising a hoof in the air to silence Rainbow. “I care about the why. Why did you break into this museum?” His question was met with silence. “A robbery perhaps? Were you looking for something to steal?”
“No,” was all she said, not elaborating further.
“Perhaps you’re a greater lover of art than I took you for?”
“Definitely no.”
“Then maybe you did do it!” Question raised his voice just loud enough to send a spark of shock through every pony in the room. “Maybe you're the guilty party I’ve been looking for this entire time.”
“I said I didn’t do it.”
“Yet you refuse to tell me why you were here?” Now why is that? What is so much worse than all the other motives I’ve presented to you?”
Again, he was met with silence. Question sighed in frustration and closed his eyes. He ran back the evening through his head, every interaction he had with Blueberry up to this point, and then looked at how she had reacted to everypony else. There was one moment that stuck out to him, the only notable time the young mare had even looked at another soul in that room. He sighed again and opened his eyes, his plan of attack now clear.
“Let’s change the angle. Rainbow, how else could we look at this?”
“... Whu-” Dash blinked, unprepared for the sudden question.
“Think of it this way. We assume Blueberry came for a thing, what if she came for somepony instead?” For a second, her eyes opened wider, and it did not escape Question’s notice.
“Who the heck would she come here to see? She said she came alone. What would she even want from them?”
“All excellent questions, Rainbow. Well, Blueberry? Care to enlighten us? Or perhaps I should try my little assumption game again?”
“I hate him.” She muttered quietly, a dark look crossing her eyes.
“Speak up, I can’t hear you.”
“I hate him!” She shouted back.
“Who? Who do you hate?”
“You know who,” she growled as she struck the Detective with a dirty glare. “He gets to prance around like he’s done nothing wrong, like he’s perfect and everypony loves him. He’s a bastard though. I hate him so much.”
“What did Counter Fiet do to you then?” Question asked slowly, sensing the tension in the room steadily rising.
“Nothing. He’s done nothing to, or for me. That’s the problem.”
“Oh dear,” Daedalus spoke aloud. When you live as long as a being like Daedalus has, certain events seemingly repeat over and over again. This was a story that never seemed to go out of fashion.
It took Question longer to figure out exactly what she had meant. The scenario was there in the back of his head, but it was always a long shot. Yet when he factored in what he knew of Counter Fiet, he was clearly a stallion who played fast and loose with his mares. He was on the older side, and he had been in the public eye for a very long time. There was bound to be consequences for his actions.
“Right, I think I see,” Question muttered. “So, you’re mother?”
“Died when I was born. Bet he was overjoyed,” She spoke much softer than before, tears welling in her eyes.
“And that’s why you’re abandoned to the world. Nopony wanted to claim you,” Question sighed out, this was a story he also knew very well. “He’s aware, isn’t he?”
“I look just like mum. At least that’s what I’ve been told. He knows, he definitely knows.”
“I saw how he looked at you, you’re right. Here’s a query, is that the first time he’s seen you?”
“Dunno, I’ve tried meeting him before. But maybe, closest I’ve gotten at least.”
“And now I have to ask, exactly what did you intend to do if you got him alone?”
The look that crossed Blueberry’s eyes was one far too grim for her age. Murderous intent would be an understatement, more like a raging holocaust would be a better fit. Whatever dark thoughts crossed her mind were not ones for conversation, even one such as this. She needn’t say anything at all, Question only needed to look at her to get the answer he was searching for.
“So you still could’ve done it?” Rainbow spoke up. “Couldn’t get him alone so mess with something of his!”
“I didn’t touch that stupid painting! I don’t care about anything there, just him. Only him.”
“And if you got your way, did you have any plans after that? Or was all of this truly heat of the moment?” She remained quiet, but Question pressed on. “Say you did your dirty deed, did you even have an exit strategy?”
“Don’t need one. Got nothing to run back too.”
“Don’t say that,” Daedalus whispered out softly. “You always have something to fight for.”
Question slumped in his seat as he felt the energy drain from him. He had been in this room far too long already. Even if everything was as it should be in his theory, he could not fully rule out the idea that Blueberry potentially could have done it. She was one the three most likely to have defaced the portrait from her motive alone. Her background did her no favors either. Yet his gut was telling him that she wasn’t lying. While she had never outright said it, her intentions towards Counter were clear, and you wouldn’t admit that sort of thing unless you were trying to misdirect somepony, or you simply didn’t care what became of you anymore.
“Miss Crush, in a moment I will let you go. You will walk back to the hall and wait for my return. You and I both know there’s no escape tonight. I can not say for certain what will become of you, much of it depends on how the rest of this night plays out, but let me say just one thing; you can start again.”
“No I can’t,” she fired back quickly. “Don’t say that to me. I don’t believe in any of that crap.”
“But I believe it, Blueberry. I have to believe it because it's sometimes the only thing that keeps me going. This is what you need to do: Leave the cult solar, get out of this city, start again in a new place where nopony knows you and carve out a new life for yourself. Doesn’t matter if it's going back to school, getting an apprenticeship, just anything to break free for this cycle. You’re all you’ve got, so stop letting yourself down.”
“... Is that all?” She asked quietly, feeling herself on the verge of breaking.
“That is all. You are free to leave.”
Without a word, Blueberry picked herself off from her seat and walked towards the door. Rainbow held it open for her and watched the young mare trot slowly down the hallway. Rainbow only closed the door once she was out of eyeline, and turned to face her coltfriend who stared blankly at her. He looked defeated.
“Do you think she’ll be okay?” Rainbow asked, almost fearful of his answer.
“I would be lying if I said yes.”
“Oh,” was all she could say, her ears flattening against her head.
“It is all dependent on if she takes any of what I said to heart, but to be honest, I think she’s long since given up entirely. You won’t fix anything if you don’t try.”
Question returned to his notebook. Their conversation morphing into an uncomfortable silence. She knew what she wanted to say, needed to say, but she was never good at this part. A lot of her coltfriend’s past had slipped out in that moment, things he had never told her. While she was unsure what it had all meant, the implications unnerved her.
“Hey…” She began, already losing her train of thought. He looked up at her, his gaze barely holding its nerve as well. She was never good at reading anyone, but she could tell he was nervous as well. “... Did you want me to get the next pony?”
“Yes please, thank you. Time to chat with the Baron.”
“Coward,” she scolded herself, walking out the door.
“This is all wrong!”
Artistic Touch bellowed as she lost control of all her senses. Scootaloo leapt under the table as she feared the volley of another flying cup of coffee. Gumshoe looked on in exasperation, unsure if he should get between her rampage or save himself. After the sixth shattered mug, he knew he could remain silent no longer.
“Alright, I think I know where this is going. Enlighten me.”
“I told you! All of it's wrong!” Artistic screeched hysterically.
“Be more specific,” Gumshoe pressed on.
“The brushstrokes, look at the brushstrokes on this piece!” She waved her hooves all over Luna’s portrait. Scootaloo returned from her hiding spot and looked on in confusion. “Much of it doesn’t match the original work.”
“Um, I can’t really tell, sorry,” the filly admitted sheepishly.
“You’re not the only one, kiddo, “ Gumshoe confessed. “Look, I need something more immediate than that. Anything else that gives me what I need.”
Without a word, Artistic reached for the lightswitch and blacked out the room. She switched on the UV light hanging above the painting, giving it a blue glow. While the image had a few bright specks on it, not much else stood it. It appeared almost dull under the special lighting.
“What am I supposed to be looking at here?” Gumshoe pressed.
“For a painting over a Millennium, this should be covered with fluorophores.”
“Fluro- What now?” Scootaloo felt her brain ache at the mere mention of a word that long and complicated.
“As portraits age, they develop a fluorescent chemical compound due to the use of different paints and varnishes. It’s completely harmless, just a natural byproduct of their existence. Under a UVA light, they are visible as bright blue splotches.”
“So… old paintings are meant to be super bright?” Scootaloo clarified slowly.
“That is correct.”
“And this one isn’t, because…?”
“It’s not the original,” Gumshoe answered. “This is a fake.”
“And a very good one, even with the brushstrokes, if I had just been a casual observer at the museum I would have simply brushed it off,” Artistic clarified, finally settling down. “But under any critical observation, even by a novice, it’s faults are immediately apparent. I dread to consider how long this has been in place of the original.”
“And that bares the question, where the hell is the original?” Gumshoe trailed off as he stared into the distance. He knew he was stepping into very dangerous territory now, even for his position, one wrong move could lead to severe consequences. “I need to know how damning this is?”
“Considering this was displayed as the original in a public space, I would say very. But you're the inspector, surely you would know better?”
“You would think, huh?” Gumshoe grumbled. He looked towards the doorway, the guard had retreated upstairs for a coffee, meaning they were all alone. “This stays between us for now. I have to make some inquiries.”
He hurried out of the room and out of sight. Artistic let out a shallow breath and felt herself shudder against the crushing realisation of what she had stepped right into. Scootaloo for her part could feel the heavy atmosphere, but the notions of politics and status enraptured in a case such as this was lost upon her.
“Hey, no need to worry,” she said suddenly, unsure what else she could say.
“Oh yeah? How so?” Artistic inquired, finding a strange mirth from the filly’s outburst.
“We’ve got the wonderbolts, and Rainbow Dash, and even a super famous detective on our side. Nopony will stand in their way.”
“Super famous?”
“Yeah, just like Rainbow Dash. Maybe they're not known by everypony, but they will be one day. Cause they go around being awesome and taking out bad guys. Everything is gonna be just fine.”
“You do realise that you won’t be able to just walk away from this,” the Baron as he strolled into the room. “There are going to be severe consequences.”
“A good evening to you too,” Question glibly replied, not even looking up at the stallion. “I see your mood hasn’t improved.”
“Oh, it has actually,” Fiet quickly fired back, an unnatural grin plastered on his face. “I’ll confess, you rattled me earlier. But none of this matters, none of it.”
He roughly brushed past Rainbow, shooting her a dirty look as he took his seat. Rainbow had to muster all of her willpower to resist the temptation of bucking the stallion in the back of his head. The two minutes she had to endure his rantings down the hallway made her wonder how anypony - let alone even the most desperate mare - could tolerate him.
“And what makes you say that?” Question inquired, giving him a quick glance.
“You’re nothing.” He breathed out, taking great satisfaction with his chosen words. “You’re no one. Nothing you can do or say will even touch me. You see, when we were in that hall, I could only wonder who was the kind of stallion that would dare treat me the way you have. The second I locked eyes on you I hated you, I didn’t know why yet, but I have a knack for picking out pests before they become an infestation. I should’ve had you escorted out there and then-”
“Assuming I believe you actually possess the foresight for that sort of thing, which I confess is possible considering what I now suspect of you, you couldn’t do that as you’d be making a show in your gallery over a non-issue. You were in a room full of known enemies, which I’m sure you were aware of. Ponies talk.”
“And that’s the thing, this whole time I’ve been wondering just who you are. I know everypony that’s anypony in Trottingham. I’ve met foreign dignitaries from across the globe and I have never heard of you. I kept thinking you must be important, that you must have some connection to royalty or a house of your own, but now I see the truth. You are nothing. Nothing but a two-bit private eye with an arsenal of false accusations.”
“Well we’re not here to talk about me, are we? We’re here to talk about you.” Question dodged his attack and dragged the conversation back on track. “I’m going to be upfront with you, this won't take long, because I have a pretty clear picture of what has happened this evening.”
“Oh, the arrogance!” Counter laughed to himself. He rolled his head back and cackled loudly. Rainbow stared at him like he had a screw loose. “This will be good. Go on then!”
“You run a counterfeiting scheme. You forge extremely accurate copies of existing artworks and sell them off to private collectors and you purposely underfund or specifically choose your curating staff depending on who will remain loyal to you. Luna’s portrait is a forgery. You likely sold the real painting during the period of time it left Trottingham palace and arrived at the museum. The reason you have been so panicked about anypony looking at the thing is because your web of lies will easily fall apart the moment this point is revealed. I’m willing to bet this is the biggest painting you’ve ever sold, especially since it's considered a national treasure. ‘Everything must be perfect tonight,’ wasn’t that what you told me?”
“Cute, very cute,” he mocked. “Very entertaining, have you ever considered writing stories? You might be able to write enough to pay off the lawsuit coming your way.”
“I’m sure that’s your tactic for most anypony that gets even a whiff of your sordid industry. Bury them in so much litigation they can’t even breathe. Don’t think I haven’t considered that.”
“You can buy nearly anything these days, even an innocent verdict,” Daedalus grumbled.
“Then have you realised the fact that none of what you said even makes sense?”
“The buck are you talking about?” Rainbow barked, letting loose her ferocious side. “Did you not hear a single thing Quest just said to you?”
“‘Quest’ has failed to take into account that I’m rich, very rich. I’m the richest pony in this city. So why in all of tartarus would I be selling off paintings under the table. I own more businesses than the pair of you have even heard of, I’m sitting on a fortune that can sustain my family for several centuries. So why would I bother dabbling in black market dealings?”
“I had considered that actually.”
In one fell swoop, Question knocked the overly smug grin off Counter’s face. In an instant, the Baron’s mind went straight to denial. He was bluffing, had to be. This was the trump card that always worked for him. Flash a little bit of money, and if that failed, flash a little bit more. It was an argument of sound logic, one most stumbled upon for they lacked any strong evidence. Yet Question remained unfazed.
“The trick is you have to look back further, much further. To the start of your family fortune. Nopony knows where it all exactly started for your clan, one day you all seemed inexplicably wealthy. Yet there has been very long standing rumors that the origin of those bits were dirty money.” He looked over to his marefriend. “Rainbow, a question for you? What happens when you commit a crime with an accomplice?”
“Ugh, well… um…” Rainbow felt like this was a trick question somehow. “You pull it off?”
“Rather what’s the fallout? You both know what the other did. You become one another's insurance policy. One goes down, they may well take the others with them.”
“What are you getting at?” Counter pressed
“I propose the following theory; your family legacy was born from black market dealings. It's an industry that is practically laced within your bloodline. So much so that you simply can not walk away from it. The criminal underworld is very familiar with your name, and has a rap sheet a mile long with your family's crimes. Now of course if one or two small times crooks speak up, who cares? Right? After all, as you so glibly put it, they’re nothing. Who would listen to them? But you don’t deal with small time crooks, do you? No, we’re talking mafia bosses, foreign sheiks, the top of the scum pile. And if they breath out even a few whispered words, your house of cards come crumbling down.”
Something grew foul in the air. They could all feel it. Question Mark had a feeling that despite all of the things Counter Fiet had done, direct murder wasn’t one of them. Yet with the way he was looking at him now, the Detective very well could be his first victim. Rainbow inched away from the door and closer towards the Baron, ready to pounce if he tried anything. Even Daedalus felt himself instinctively square up, before lowering his guard, chiding himself.
“I’ve been in the hive mind too long,” he grumbled, rubbing his eyes.
When everypony thought something might snap, they found instead a different tension emerge. Counter Fiet began to laugh. It started slow, almost like a creeping sensation trailing up the spine before it exploded into a deranged chortle. His gleeful cries filled the room. He showed no signs of stopping as everypony else just stared on. Question met his hysteria with a blank glare, Rainbow opted for a wide-eyed stare that suggested ‘get me away from this lunatic.’ Even Daedalus, who had seen more than his fair share of insanity through his lifetime, wanted to be anywhere else right now.
“I own this city!” Counter roared. He pushed himself forwards until he was practically snout to snout with Question, inadvertently spitting in his face. “There is no court in Trottingham that would dare prosecute me, and certainly not off hearsay alone.”
“I wish you’d stop doing that,” Question sighed, wiping his face.
“You don’t have a thing!”
“I have the forged painting, you and I both know that’s enough to start a formal investigation.”
“But the minute it comes to investigating me in any official capacity, then that’s where it will end, no questions asked.”
“True, in Trottingham anyway…”
Counter had wound himself up for another verbal volley, but held back his attack. He sat back up and straight in his chair, a look of befuddlement washing over him.
“What are you getting at?”
“That you’ve enlightened me on one key point, if I want to best you, I must seek out a higher authority.” Question said no more, except to give Counter a wave of his hoof as he finished with, “You may go now.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean we’re done, and you will be too. You’ve lived too long in an undeserved high and mighty state, so enjoy your last fleeting moments as the king of your castle, they’re about to be your last.”
Counter wanted to say more, he wanted to be the pony who got the last word. Yet he had nothing to say. His dread had dried up his well of arguments and petty words. He stood up and walked to the door, feeling as if he was headed to the gallows. Rainbow opened the door, giving him a harsh glare the entire way. As Counter stepped through, Question called out to his marefriend.
“Rainbow, make sure you walk Baron Fiet back to the holding area. And when you return, bring Noctis and Gulliver with you.”
“You want to interrogate Gulliver now too?”
“Not exactly, you’ll see.”
Rainbow nodded and walked through the door, letting it close behind her. Question waited but a few moments before he let out a long breath and collapsed on the table. He held his hoof’s together in what appeared to be a prayer. Daedalus felt his heart sink into his chest as he watched him, realising just how much his friend's air of confidence had been a show. He could hear him mutter, and unable to stop himself, the king listened closer.
“Please let me be right. Please.” He repeated over and over.
Artistic finished the touches of her report. She dragged out the last words, her anxiety boiling over with each pen stroke, but she forced herself forward regardless. With her final signature it was done. She might as well have signed her own death warrant. This was her job, this is what she was born to do. She loved it more than she could describe, but at this very moment, she would’ve traded it for just about anything else.
“That’s it, huh?” Scootaloo asked innocently.
“Sort of, but it's the last thing I can do tonight anyway,” she tried to explain, purposefully vague on the potential fallout.
“So what now?”
“Now we wait. With the report, that’s my official evaluation of the portrait. Later I will likely be called into further questioning, possibly to clarify all this in a trial as well. Presuming I still have a job by then.”
“Why would you lose your job?”
“Don’t worry your little filly head about it. You’re likely the one of the only ponies who can walk away from this unscathed.”
None of that helped clear up anything up for Scootaloo, but she didn’t need to think much more on it as the approaching march of hooves drew her attention. Gumshoe entered the room, flanked by two guard ponies as he made a beeline for Artistic.
“Is your report ready?”
“Yes, it’s all here.”
Gumshoe snatched it away before Artistic had the chance to give it to him. He stared at it as if it would suddenly come to life and lash out at him. He read each word carefully, trying his best to make an exact copy of it in his mind. When he was finished, he passed it off to the guard on his right.
“Take this directly to the Trottingham Gazette first! Then once they have their copy, file it in as evidence.” The guard nodded, then Gumshoe switched to the other. “Watch his back. You two will have eyes on you.” They saluted him and marched away, noticeably faster than they had entered.
“Is this your insurance policy?” Artistic asked, somewhat exasperated at the implication.
“More like covering our flanks.”
“Is this standard protocol?”
“Not at all, but it’s not the first time I’ve played this card. Get the story out first to try and get public perception on our side.”
“Why the Gazette?”
“It's the one paper he doesn’t own. He’s supposedly very unpopular there too, apparently he’s tried to beat ‘em down with so many frivolous lawsuits they dont give a damn if they piss him off for real.”
“So my name is going to be on full display as well?” Artistic pressed, bringing the mood down further.
“It was always going to be,” Gumshoe tried to explain. “Either he smears you to destroy your credibility, or you at the very least get the first shot on him.”
“Damn it,” she muttered in frustration. “I would have appreciated a heads up at least.”
“I’m running on finite time here, love. The minute the interrogations are over, everything has gotta line up in place. I’m sorry, but I didn’t have time to ask permission here.”
“Typical bullheaded response,” she muttered louder, making sure he heard. Yet he remained unfazed by her frustrated jab. “I take it I may leave, yes? There’s nothing else you require of me?”
“We’ll be in touch as things inevitably go to trial, but for now, yes. Go home and get a good night's rest. You’ve earned it.”
Artistic said nothing as she walked around the room, collecting her stuff. She avoided the eyes of Gumshoe and Scootaloo as she did so. Lastly putting on her coat, she made her way out of the room, stopping just before the staircase. She did not turn to look at them, but she did speak once more to the Investigator.
“Gumshoe.” He said nothing in response, waiting instead to see what she would say. “I really hope this Detective of yours is as good as that filly thinks he is. For all of our sakes.”
As she departed, Scootaloo switched her focus to Gumshoe. His expression was unreadable, but she could see his hindlegs shake ever so slightly. She had noticed this reaction before; her Aunt Holiday was the same. Whenever something was bothering her, parts of her body would start to shake. So she did what always helped her, she hugged the offending limb into submission.
“Whoa,” he responded in surprise, having failed to notice what the filly was doing. “You alright there? Not afraid are ya?”
“Nah, you just looked like you needed that.” She let go of him, beaming widely.
Gumshoe felt his pounding heart simmer down. He smiled back at her, allowing himself the tiny moment of calm before the storm. Before he could respond, a guard pony barreled down the stairs, nearly tripping over his hooves as he stepped inside. He corrected himself and saluted.
“Sir, thought it best you know, Question Mark has begun interrogating the last of the suspects. He’ll be ready soon.”
Gumshoe gave a mock salute back and breathed a heavy sigh. At the very least, it would be over soon.
“Miss Moon,” Question greeted the fine mare, having regained his composure moments before Rainbow returned. “Pleasure to see you again.”
“The pleasure is thine, Detective,” giving him a nod. She did not smile, nor frown in his presence. She seemed almost entirely unfazed with the circumstances she now found herself in, which to Question Mark rang a very strange warning bell.
“What am I? Yesterday’s leftovers?” Gulliver squawked up as he followed behind her. Despite his comment, he cackled in glee. “Never been interrogated before. You’re gonna have to guide me through this one, Mark.”
“... Mark?” The Detective puzzled over. That was a new one.
“Anyway, this whole thing gonna take long? I’m not a spring chicken y’know? I feel like I’m going to drop dead any second.”
“Only time will tell, unfortunately,” Question explained, motioning towards the chair opposite him.
Gulliver bowed and offered the stool to Noctis, who gestured back and took his offer. Gulliver stood off to the side instead. Ordinarily this would be improper, and also be flagged as a risk for somepony bolting part way through. Yet Question wasn’t concerned. At his age, any attempt by Gulliver to flee would not get him far, and besides which, he didn’t see the old griffon as the type. Rainbow remained on guard all the same.
“I recognise this is a bit unusual, but I thought Guliver might be able to lend me his expertise tonight. What I’m looking for from you, Miss Moon, is a timeline of sorts.”
“Timeline?”
“Specifically what led you here this evening. I understand you are somewhat a recluse?”
“Ah, yes, I suppose one could say that,” she stared off into the far wall, as if she was looking further back than one her age should. “I said this before I believe, but it has beenmany moons since I was last in Trottingham. My family has a history dating to before this city was even built. Arguably, you could say that we are- oh what is the term? New money?”
“Nouveau riche is the posh term.”
“Yes, but this is not so. Again, my family we’re here long before Trottingham. I suppose one could say I reclaimed an inheritance long thought abandoned.”
“That’s quite interesting actually, where is it you reside?”
“Westmarester Palace.”
“Really? Correct me if I’m wrong, but was that not at one point the summer abode of the Princess of Love herself?”
“I believe so, yes. I never knew her very well, but I have heard her husband and herself are searching for a more permanent residence. Somewhere to carve out a place of their own.”
“And so I don’t think I’m stretching when I suggest that to garner such an estate you must have been in contact with royalty? No?”
“You are not wrong, no,” she answered, unwavering. “I owe much to Princess Celestia and Luna. They have helped me tremendously.”
“Now that is very interesting indeed,” Question spoke as he leaned back in his chair. “So to clarify, when exactly did you return to this city.”
“Two years to the day.”
“About the same time Princess Luna did, no?” His snout twitched, the anticipation of her falling for his trap driving him to the edge. “You must have come to know Luna quite quickly then.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Gulliver make a very curious gesture. His feathers ruffled along his wings. Ordinarily, it was an indication of anxiety for his people. It often made them terrible poker players. Why was he so nervous? What did he have to lose here? Yet Noctis remained exactly as she had. Regal and imposing in every way it mattered. She did not waver at his question, but she did pause longer than was natural.
“I was in fact one of the first ponies to visit the night court. I had learned of my inheritance not long ago, I was penniless with little family left, so I took a gamble, scrounged up what bits I could and travelled down to Canterlot. By the time we arrived it was getting late and Celestia’s court was retiring. Even if I had come in time, it was often so busy you would have to make a reservation a few days in advance. However, I was filled with much anticipation, and as I was on the carriage I overheard mumblings of other ponies discussing the opening of the returning Majesty’s court. I took a gamble and approached it as soon as I arrived, and luck would have it, I was able to head straight on through.”
“You said ‘we’ earlier. You travelled with the rest of your family?”
“My Mother and sister, yes.”
“Go on,” Question pressed her, hanging on every word.
“Princess Luna was a most agreeable mare. Nothing like the stories made her out to be. She allowed me to tell her my entire story, and immediately she put all her power into verifying my claim and seeing my inheritance was given. The truth is my family has a very strong connection to her. They were loyalists when she was Nightmare Moon, and they were denied their estate after the war. She wanted to correct that and sure enough, they were able to prove I was a direct descendant of that family.”
“What happened next?”
“I was asked to come back the next day, and I met Princess Celestia. They had deliberated in the morning, and I discovered that while the estate had been destroyed, all the money from my family still existed in the canterlot vaults. It had simply never been utilised.”
“Not in a thousand years?”
“Celest- I mean her Majesty, explained that she often considered it ‘dirty bits.’ She never took pleasure in the punishments she served after the war, but had to make examples of the loyalists. It had all but been forgotten, and the treasury from my understanding has always been at max capacity.”
“And so they gave you formally a title, all your family's money, and gifted you Cadence's old estate?”
“Even for the Princesses, that’s considerably generous,” Daedalus murmured to himself. “And it took a single day to verify her bloodline? Even by pony standards, it surely would’ve taken somewhat longer. The amount of paperwork and legalities involved alone would take several days, even with the Princesses fast tracking it all.”
Unbeknownst to the monarch, Question was thinking the same thing. However, he chose to keep his cards close to his chest. He thought over her story, the conviction of her words, and while there were doubts on the validity of it all, he could deny what his senses were telling him: for the most part, she was indeed telling the truth. The silence between them had been dragged out just long enough to make most ponies feel uncomfortable, before Question turned to Gulliver.
“What do you think of that story?”
“Come again?” Gulliver blinked as if he had just been snapped back to reality.
“Do you think that story is believable?”
“Well of course it is. Never met ‘em myself, but the Princesses are fine mare’s. They allow an old coot like me to settle a new life here. Why wouldn’t they give this lass her due?”
“Liar,” Question thought.
Gulliver was not a complicated griffon. He was the suspicious sort, it was his words that tipped Question off to the painting in the first place. He was knowledgeable, he’d been around the block more than once, and even though Question had known him for a short period of time, there was no way in traturas he’d believe that Gulliver would just buy a story like that. Still, he needed not to call him out on it. Just let the game play out a little longer.
“So, Miss Moon, if you are considered nouveau riche, why did Counter seem so excited at your presence this evening?”
“I’ve been a recluse since I regained my family’s name. I have been extensively learning the ropes as it were. Managing the estate, setting up my assets and investments, I have put off meeting any of my fellow nobility. My mother is also ill, has been for some time. She is my priority when I am not working. I suspected this would not endear the nobles to me, but the reverse has occurred.”
“In what way?”
“It seems they think of me as some sort of maverick. It’s made me mysterious, or so I’ve been told by the staff.”
“The nobility do so love the loners,” Daedalus chuckled. “They can never quite fathom that someling might just not like them. So they of course must be so important that they're even above them.”
Question found his jaw lock up. He looked down at his notes as he contemplated his next move. Every so often, Gulliver looked at Noctis in a way that didn’t quite make sense. There was concern in his eyes, hesitation as his claws pawed at the ground, trepidation as his beak kept opening and closing as he desperately wanted to cut in. Why was he so concerned for her? There was no denying it, these two were in some way connected, and that missing piece Question had been searching for was starting to become clear.
“Why’d you come then?” Rainbow’s brash tone boomed out across the small room.
Question visibly jumped as his train of thought came to a sudden collision. Noctis and Gulliver fared no better, visibly shaken by her sudden inquiry.
“I already said to the Detective here, I have a connection to these paintings.” Noctis tried to explain away, but Rainbow jumped right back onto the attack.
“Yeah, I remember. But how? What connection?”
Question felt himself tense up. This wasn’t the plan. However, his marefirend had inadvertently presented a unique advantage for him. She had actually managed to unsettle Noctis. She was now notably flustered as instead of answering her question, she spluttered and stammered as she thought of what to say. Instead of stopping Rainbow, he allowed the scene to play out further.
“I-I-I have difficulty explaining,” she evaded again.
“We can wait,” Rainbow countered.
“Oi, are you doing interrogation here?” Gulliver stepped up. “This isn’t a good cop, bad cop routine.”
“She’s my partner,” Question bellowed. Rainbow instantly went red faced and turned away, embarrassed at the connotation. She could not keep the happy smile off her face though. “Finest one I’ve ever had. And she presents a very good point. I need an answer, Noctis.”
“My family…” She trailed off, staring into space. The cogs in her head were still turning, the gears nearly grinding to a halt. Before a lightbulb went off she came back to earth. “It is believed that one of my ancestors painted Luna’s portrait. The artist has remained unknown, but it's a strong theory, considering many of descendants were artists and they were close to her at the time. Of course I have been studying the paintings ever since.”
“Gulliver, can you confirm?”
“What?” He asked, notably shaken. A bead of sweat travelled down his mesh of feathers. “How would I know?”
“I thought you were practically an expert? Surely with all the time you’ve spent in here, and even your suggestions of the painting's authenticity, you would have some idea where it originated from.”
“Well… ugh…” He hesitated, he would either go all in or throw Noctis under the station wagon. “The fine mare speaks the truth. Honestly I’m surprised you don’t know, the origins of the painting have been debat-”
Before he could finish, Question held up a pamphlet within his right wing. If one could see past Gulliver’s feathers, his skin would have turned white as a ghost. Noctis looked between Gulliver and the pamphlet and joined him in his look of panic. They watched as Question opened it to a specific page and began to read aloud.
“The portrait of her royal Majesty, Princess Luna, is believed to be the last known depiction of her Majesty before her banishment a year later. The haunting expression upon her face, masked within the dark colours has left this to be one of the most prolific profiles of its age, and has transcended throughout the millennium. Another interesting note is that the portrait has no identifiable author. While many theories of its origins have been presented throughout the years, none have ever had any solid weight to their claim. It is believed that the artist will remain lost to time.”
Both Gulliver and Noctis were left speechless. Any argument they might have mustered died before it could even become an idea.They were unable to hide the look they shared with one another. Sheer panic. Rainbow fist pumped the air before turning away again.
“Noctis, remember what I told you?” She didn’t answer. “I asked you if you were hiding anything from me, and you said no. It is clearer now more than ever that was a lie.”
“I can explain-” she began, but Question swiftly cut her off.
“There is nothing to explain. I have all I need from the pair of you.”
Nopony (or griffon) in the room missed the key word; pair. They had been had. Gulliver grimaced and ruffled his feathers, while Noctis stared back off into space. Question allowed the silence to linger before carrying on.
“While I do not know everything that happened tonight, I know exactly who defaced the portrait now. The fallout from this will be heavy, and if this does play out the way I hope it will, I can not guarantee your safety. I will ask you both now to return to the gallery. I will be joining the pair of you in a moment.”
Noctis remained stiff at first, as if she couldn’t move at all. Eventually she lifted herself off her seat and headed back from whence she came. Gulliver joined her, and Rainbow was about to as well, before Question wordlessly motioned for her to stay.
“It’s time, Rainbow.”
“Time?”
“It’s time to put a neat little bow on this mystery. Let’s end this.”