Starlight Over Detrot Chapter 6 : Happiness Is A Warm Gun
Friendship works for criminals almost as well as it does for other ponies. While there are numerous and occasionally fatal issues of trust between such outlaws, it remains just as true that the things that can be achieved in groups greatly outstrips what any one criminal can do alone. This can be empirically observed in the coalescence and rise of Detrot’s two largest criminal organizations - the Jewelers and the Cyclone Crew.
The Jewelers got their start when the leadership of a Detrot gem miners’ union began smuggling gems to dragons for profit, but gradually, as the gems began to run dry, they realized that their smuggling routes, techniques, and contacts could be used to smuggle other things. Drugs. Weaponry. Illegal zebra artifacts. Additionally, their pinstripe-suited muscle could be used not only to protect their routes, but could generate a revenue stream when applied sarcastically against the owners of small businesses, pointedly indicating the depth of the shame that would result if anything were to happen thereto.
The Cyclone Crew were a more modern phenomenon; a street gang initially comprised of disaffected, poverty-stricken youth who felt that their futures and livelihoods had been torn asunder by the shortsightedness of the previous generation, and banded together for protection, status, and criminal profit. The Cyclone Crew was unique among such gangs not only in its size, but in that it professed an anarchistic philosophy they call “Ever Free,” containing a strong pony supremacist theme. Their recruits ate rainbows during the initiation ceremonies, symbolizing their belief that only ponies come in enough colors to properly seize the future.
Their leadership remained well-shrouded, but a number of their members have passed into urban legend. The Jewelers had Gazpacho the Tanner, a psychopath who earned his nickname during the reign of terror he once held over the bovine community. Spark Flare the Arsonist’s love of wanton destruction seemed to epitomize the Cyclones, who seemed undeterred when she met her end crashing headlong into a public fountain whilst trying to put herself out. They tended to respond by mouthing some old adage about ‘the flame that burns brightest.’
The turf wars between the two, at their height, were legendary - resulting in the release of Class 2 and 3 Hostile Arcane Entities, spontaneous pony combustion, and at one point, the replacement of city hall with a creme brulee five stories high. The resulting police crackdown forced the two groups to resort to more traditional, quieter acts of sabotage and murder, which eventually settled into something of an uneasy truce - at least, for a time.
--The Scholar
The meeting with Stella did not go to plan. That’s not to say I’d gone into the audience with a particular machination in mind, but that sun-blasted serpent had me by the vas deferens from the instant I set hoof in the lift.
I’d spent a few moments making a foal of myself, cursing and screaming at the empty puddle. I was certain the lipsticked lizard could still somehow see me through whatever surveillance system he used to keep tabs on the establishment.
When I finally wore down enough to realize I was wet right up to my croup, Scarlet led us back down the passageway. Swift was trailing behind me, her head hung low; Taxi was bringing up the rear, still sniggering like a psychopathic hyena. I’d have to think of a proper revenge. A resentful little voice shrieked that she might have jeopardized the case with her messing about, but if I’m honest, I didn’t do my research and couldn’t have been more off balance if I’d tried.
A cross dressing sea serpent with a private army of ninja-ponies. One might think that would be the sort of thing everypony would have known about. Maybe in places like Trottingham or Hoofington, that would be the case, but this is Detrot. The city played host to some of the strangest events of the Cutie Mark Crusades. My grandstallion, the original Hard Boiled, fought alongside the royal guard and the first proto-PACT teams. I’d never met him, but some of the stories my father told me of melees with apple pies and warzones reduced to declarations of temporary cease fire so everypony could satisfy a magically induced craving for spinach were part of what inspired me to eventually take up public service. ‘Strange’ is just part of the job.
Scarlet stopped and gave a quick kiss on the cheek to the zebra Stiletto guarding the curtain. She stiffened, but couldn’t keep a tiny smile off her stripy face. The small buck guarding the other side of the door beside her didn’t so much as blink until we’d moved on, but I glanced back to see him ribbing his companion mercilessly.
The strange atmosphere of the Vivarium was a mixture of bizarre affection, commerce, and security. The Stilettos were a scary bunch, to be sure, but the implication was simple: Follow the rules and we’ll protect you. It was the ideal police officers had tried and failed for years to cultivate.
The DJ had switched to lighter, softer tunes for the dinner hour and the lighting had come up a few notches, leaving the club feeling more like a Los Pegasus casino lounge than a steamy, high end brothel.
Scarlet greeted a few ponies as we passed the swimming pool, then took us towards another curtained off area tucked away in a corner. The Stiletto on guard was a very pretty pegasus wearing so much metal in her ears, one could make a tidy profit selling her for scrap. She dipped her chin, held open the curtain for us, then went back to staring woodenly at her own nose.
****
The hallway behind the curtain was a long row of doors, each one with a number and a bright red restaurant-style menu nailed to it. The flowery reek of potpourri barely managed to cover up the less savory odors. If the bar was the Vivarium’s beating heart, then this was its throbbing erection.
I’d only been in a few brothels in my life, and never as a customer, but in my limited experience, this one was less seedy than most representatives of the breed. The chandeliers hanging overhead and the gold-thread-woven carpet were clean and pristine, but I still felt just a little dirty for simply being there. All in all, it felt like the High Step if it was being slightly more honest with itself.
A door halfway down the hall opened, and a radiantly pink unicorn pony wearing enough black buckles and straps to secure steel girders to her torso stuck her nose out and greeted our guide. “Hey! Scarlet baby, could ya go grab us some fresh rubber sheets?”
“What do I look like, your servant?” He groused.
A thin plastic rod levitated out of the room and snapped against his cutie-mark, leaving a dark stripe. “Damn right, pretty boy! Now mush!”
He squealed and bolted down the hallway, calling back, “Yes ma’am! Back in a jiffy!” The crop followed him, taking the occasional swing in his general direction before dropping to the ground as he rounded the corner.
I cautiously approached the... whatever she was... who trotted out of the room to retrieve her toy. The black strips of slick cloth covered every inch of her body, including her tail. If not for her voice it would have been difficult to tell she was a mare, an ambiguity that seemed to be a theme around this place.
She smiled graciously at me, “Heh, gotta show these club ponies who’s boss now and then. Ya comin’ to me? I only do one at a time. Ya want groups, room six is Tossed Salad. He’s the best multi-tasker I’ve ever met if ya don’t mind males.”
Professional detachment is a ward against more than just fear of death. I pulled out my badge, holding it between me and the brain-scouring mental images with which I was being assailed. “Sorry, we’re here to see...” I swiveled my head and addressed my partner. “Hey, what’s your grandmare’s name?”
The fetish pony seemed uninterested in my shield. “Grandmare? Ooh, that’s kinky!”
While professional detachment was faltering, Swift eased around me, and what I could see of the other pony’s face seemed to expand into a massive grin that threatened to pull her head in half. “Oh Swifty, babydoll! It’s good to see ya! I’m sorry ya caught me working, honey. Can’t foalsit ya right now.”
My partner gave her a quick, familial hug. “I’m a little old for foalsitting, Daisy. Is gran around?”
Daisy tugged at the zipper on her neck nervously. “She’s... yeah, honey... she’s in her office working the books.” The dominatrix gulped and flicked her eyes towards the end of the hall, lowering her voice as though predators lurked nearby. “Ya know what she gets like around tax time. Last time I tried to help, she almost took my head off!” The unicorn lowered an ear, showing off a notch where the flesh had been neatly clipped out and healed over.
“Thanks, Daisy.” Swift gave her another snug and motioned for us to follow. As Daisy was closing her door, I craned my neck to get an eyeful of what was going on inside as investigative instinct conquered my better judgement.
“Isn’t that councilpony Pro Bono?” I asked.
Taxi’s cheeks puffed out and she put a hoof over her lips, forcing her gorge back down after the sight of the grotesque visage before her. “Oog... I did not need to see a public official having intercourse with a blender full of custard.”
****
I’d lost total track of the twists and turns we’d gone through, but Swift seemed to know her way by heart. The noises of the club were long gone. We passed only a few customers in the near-empty back corridors, most memorably a well built bull with a mare on a leash attached to a nasty looking bridle.
The sheer size of this underworld village was staggering. Most of the corridors followed the same layout with the menus and numbered doors, but a few were more specialized. We passed a sign which said ‘No customers beyond this point,’ which my partner informed us was the creche with full foalsitting services and a living space for the employees who hadn’t got a place of their own.
I was elated when they replaced the toilets in the Castle with ones that didn’t scream when you flushed them. Benefits indeed.
Swift brought us to a stop outside a tiny maintenance closet tucked away in the farthest corner of the complex. It didn’t have a number or service listing, but a tiny stenciled sign which said ‘Security Office’ hung cockeyed from a knife stuck in the wood.
“Sir... um... I... I feel like I should... warn you...” She started apprehensively, checking her armored vest like she might be making use of it soon.
I touched her shoulder and she jumped. “About what, kid? Come on, I’m pretty far down the rabbit hole with you here, so it might be time to just spill it. Your ancestors are brothel folk. I get it. But you’re a cop to me; everything else is moot.”
Taxi joined me with a comforting smile and said, “If you ever get me drunk and maudlin, I’ll tell you some real family horror stories.”
“It’s not that. Um... did you... er...” The pegasus seemed to be having trouble finding the right words, but eventually settled on: “Did you ever have a grandmother who was a sweet old lady who made you cookies and taught you to play games and things like that?”
I nodded with a nostalgic grin. Grammy Boiled had been a real bundle of joy in her day.
“My grandmare isn’t like that.”
“How do you mean?” I asked.
“Please, don’t make any sudden moves until she knows who it is. She’s a little forgetful these days.”
With that, Swift pushed open the door to the security room and immediately ducked. A throwing hatchet the size of my foreleg whistled out and almost knocked my hat clean off my head before burying itself in the opposite door, wobbling back and forth. In an instant, I’d plastered myself against the wall outside the doorframe, with Taxi attached to the other side, anticipating further projectiles.
“There ya are ye consarned varmit! Where’dja hide mah damn cigars?!” A scratchy, low pitched voice screeched from inside the small office.
“Hello, Granny Glow... It’s me, Swift. Where are your glasses?” My partner trotted in, murmuring like one would to a small, frightened animal.
“Little bird!” The voice said with a gleeful laugh. “Where’d ya come from? Ye should have called ahead. And Ah can see ye just fine! Just need may spectacles for snipin’. Thought you was that red brigand what stole my box of Croupan cigars.”
“Scarlet didn’t steal your cigars, gran. They’re in here somewhere, probably along with your glasses.”
”Oh, Don’t talk to me like a foal. girl! Ah ain’t lost all’a mah marbles. Now come here and lemme see ya. Sakes alive girl, what’re ya wearin’? Looks mighty sharp on ya!”
“It’s my uniform, gran. I graduated and I’m on the job. What’d I tell you about throwing sharp things at ponies?” Swift scolded.
“Horseshit! If Ah was throwin’ em at ponies Ah’da hit ’em. Now tell yer cute friend in the coat and that heap’a yellow fur with the funny mane to stop skulkin’ around or ah really will staple ’em to something!” The voice moved around the office; the door glowed green, then banged open the rest of the way.
Taxi lowered her nose, indicating that I should go first. I didn’t mind; I was so punch drunk on the sheer absurdity of my surroundings, I figured the worst Swift’s grandmare could do was end my day in a hospital bed with a big bowl of jello and no more unpleasantly sexual images of sweet confections and kitchen appliances dancing behind my eyelids.
Strolling in with as much nonchalance as I could muster, I dutifully removed my fedora and coat, tossing them over one foreleg. “Evening ma’am. Detective Hard Boiled, at your service. This is my driver.” I stood aside and Taxi squeezed in beside me, performing her version of a curtsy, which was mostly bending her front knees.
The room was as small from the inside as it looked on the outside. Every inch of the ceiling, floor, and walls was coated in a thick a mixture of receipts, paper garbage, semi-pornographic pictures, and untold hundreds of lines of carefully corroborated notation, all being held in place with a soft shine of magic. It was quite an impressive display.
The unicorn whose horn was holding the mass of papers stood behind the only furniture in the room, a low desk with an adding machine and a tower of ledgers. If Stella was a frightening sight up close, then Granny Glow was Nightmare Moon in heat. She had a face like a piece of dried fruit the color of split pea soup. Maybe once she’d been a beauty, but those days were long gone. Her cheeks were a mass of valleys, laugh lines, crow’s feet, and an additional menagerie of wrinkles that would put any dermatologist in an early grave. She might have been sixty, or she might have been a hundred. It was tough to tell.
In spite of her age, her eyes were as sharp as the butterfly knife hanging in mid-air behind her, click-clacking open and shut like a metronome. She was chewing on the butt of a cigar that stank of rotting skunk; a thin haze of blue smoke rolled around the ceiling.
Shoving the desk and its attendant piles of figures aside with another powerful blast of levitation that made my fur stand on end, she strode forward, grabbed my hoof, and shook it so hard I was afraid it would come off at the shoulder.
“Aye there, proper strong boy yah found yourself, eh, little bird? Or is yers the filly what done painted her head?”
Taxi toyed with her layered braid, deciding the better part of valor was keeping quiet and hoping the old lady didn’t decide she needed a mane cut.
Swift picked a stack of paper and plunked herself down on it, seeming more at ease in the company of the elderly unicorn than I’d seen her anywhere all day long. “Sir, this is... Granny After Glow. She’s head of security here at the Vivarium. Granny, this is my partner in the police department.”
“Ye can call me Glow. Call me ‘Granny’ and I’ll skin ye. That’s fer family only.”
“It’s a real pleasure, ma’am.”
I returned the hoof-shake firmly, then hung my coat on the rack just inside the door. Granny Glow creaked her way back over then yanked her desk back into place.
With a tiny swing of her shining horn, every piece of paper in the room swirled down into neat stacks. The almost casual way she used magic to wrench her environment around was a bit unsettling in somepony her age. I got a glance at some of the papers; A thousand-bit expense account for lubricant.
Don’t want to know, don’t want to know, don’t want to know...
Formalities done, she turned to her granddaughter. The slight stoop to her shoulders only emphasized the fact that Granny Glow must have been a real amazon in her youth, and she was still half a head taller than Swift.
“So tell me, little bird... yer daddy don’t want ye comin’ down to see me. What was it he said last Hearth’s Warming Eve when he thought ah couldn’t hear? Ah’m a baaad influence?” Her lips quirked.
Swift squared her legs and put on a big defiant smile. “I’m... I’m an adult, gran. I can see who I want to! Daddy will just have to put up with it.”
Taxi bit her lip and stifled a giggle for safety’s sake.
“Miss Glow, you’re head of security here?” I asked, trying not to lay on the ‘cop’ too thick. Something told me that wouldn’t get me anywhere with the old mare any more than it had with the dragon, and the two had some real similarities. “Stella didn’t seem much inclined to talk to me. Maybe you can answer a few questions?”
She absent mindedly grabbed a rolled cigar from a wooden box which had been buried under paper, lit it with a flash of magic, then jammed it into her muzzle. “Heh, stumped ya did he? Sticky bugger sure likes his games. Probably was a right bitch about it too. He sent ye down to see me then?”
My jaw tightened involuntarily. After Glow caught the look and blew a smoke-ring at me. “Knew it. Well, t’aint without a good reason. Even lettin’ ye in to see his scaly rump is an uncommon thing, but if my little bird says yer alright, yer alright. She got her momma’s brains, thank goodness.”
My cutie mark twinged and I took a step closer. “What ‘good reason’? We’re here about an investigation. We think it’s possible one of Stella’s employees was killed this morning.”
Glow squinted until her eyes almost disappeared inside her wrinkled green face. “Killed... yah mean died in an accident or somepony did’em in purposeful-like? Ye get a name? Speak up sonny, or badge or not, I’ll have your male-bits for tea cozies!” The knife swinging in the air behind her clicked a bit faster; my dusky tail involuntarily swept down between my legs. The part of me that was aware that using male-bits for tea cozies made no sense was not certain whether she knew that, and did not wish to aggravate her further by pointing that out.
Swift snatched the weapon out of the air with one wing, folded it shut with her mouth, then set it carefully on her grandmare’s desk. “Gran, we’re here to help.”
Just as I thought the ancient unicorn was about to snap her knife up again and make a go for my masculinity, Taxi finally broke her silence. “Hardy, you noticed when you mentioned there was a death, Stella didn’t seem all that upset, but when you said the Jane Pony’s horn was removed, he got angry.”
I nodded. I had noticed that. Anything that gets a dragon’s fuming nostrils two inches from your face tends to stick in your awareness. But as Taxi forced me to relive the experience, the old unicorn’s yellowed teeth clenched and sank right through the end of her cigar, which fell onto her desk and quickly went out. Her eyes were on me, boring into my face with an intensity that had been refined over decades of emptying the bladders of uncouth johns.
“Deary, ah think ye better lay it all out for me right quick here. Iffen her horn was ‘removed’ then there’s a good chance we got more problems than ah thought.”
This being the third time I’d described the situation, I was starting to hit my stride. I briefly ran down the circumstances of the body, then produced Stella’s lapel pin. In spite of department policies on information sharing, laying a situation out loud to somepony often helps me organize my thoughts. True, there’s always a chance when you’re telling ponies about the case that you might end up revealing yourself to a killer, but I’d never had that happen and doubted sincerely it was Swift’s grandmare I was hunting.
When I was finished, Glow just stood there mutely contemplating the plastic bag as it hung in a shimmering light in front of her face. Collecting her thoughts she said with resignation, “That ain’t a way ah’d hoped this day would go, but if Miss Stella thinks ye can help, ah don’t figure to defy the beasty. In a century and pocket change, he ain’t steered us wrong.”
“Fine by me. Swift, take notes.”
The pegasus retrieved the notepad from my coat and sat, pencil in mouth, poised for action.
After Glow’s horn flashed and slammed the door shut, almost clipping my tail. “We can talk freely here. Mine’s the only room in the whole building what don’t got the security system tapped into it.”
“Why should that matter, gran? Stella is the only one who can listen to us. I thought the magical frequency was locked?” Swift asked, shifting the pencil to one side of her muzzle and looking concerned.
“And that’s what we thought too... til a few weeks ago we was doing maintenance and tapped into somepony’s transmission. They was piggy backin’ our own damn equipment!” Glow slapped a hoof down on her desk and the whole thing jumped.
“This security system... what exactly is it meant to do? I can’t picture anypony breaking into a brothel or a night club.” I asked, quizzically.
The unicorn hesitated, bunching up her face as she considered whether or not to answer my question. “Well... if I’mma tell ye, I got to swear ye.” Glow stood up and pointed at me and Taxi with her horn. “Put yer hoof in the air.”
Taxi tentatively lifted her leg. I remained where I was. “Haven’t we passed enough tests today? I drank the truth bloom. Isn’t that enough?”
The security office door swung open again. “Ye can swear or ye can get out, boy! Ah ain’t that lizard and ah don’t trust in potions. Yer word is all ye got that’s worth somethin’ to me.”
I smiled broadly and raised my hoof. If there’s something in this mad world I can appreciate, it’s the solidity of giving your word. In a land of magic, there are still some things more powerful than incantations and flashy horn work.
Glow floated her cigar out and stabbed it in the air at me. “Now this here is a special vow... if either of ye break it ah ain’t responsible for the consequences. Say it with me. Cross yer heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in yer eye.” She did a little fluttering wave with her hoof then covered her eye with it.
“Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.” I mimed the motion. It didn’t feel as silly as it should have; some ponies take such things very seriously.
But as I finished, a shiver shot up my spine. It felt like somepony, somewhere, knew I’d taken that vow. The oath I’d made when joining the police force felt insubstantial by comparison.
Taxi’s face scrunched up like she’d swallowed something sour. “Yech, was that some kind of spell?” She asked.
“Nope. A solid, old-fashioned kinda promise. Now then... this ain’t a thing we just tell the public so yer keepin’ it under that there hat, yahear?” Glow replied, crossing her hooves one over the other.
I nodded and she went on. “Our security system is supposed to keep ponies from hurtin’ each other or takin’ pictures. We got clientele in every walk of life. One of the only rules in Detrot ye could always rely on is ‘Yer safe if yer in the Vivarium.’ Safe!” She punctuated the word by snapping up her balisong, opening it, and driving it into the desk.
She then turned to look at a few of the pictures which were stuck to the walls with various sharp implements. I wasn’t in any hurry to check out her cutie-mark, but thankfully her flanks weren’t in near the poor condition her face was. It was a thin, lady’s knife buried in a target. No surprise there.
When I said nothing, she continued her explanation. “Nopony wants what they do behind our doors out in public, no way, no how. We do our damnedest to make sure that’s how it is. These ponies what broke into our system are clever. We keep our monitoring frequency on a rotation, but iffen they found it once, it’s only a matter of time ‘afore they find it again, and who knows what they already got. They’ve turned the protection spells into cameras in damn near every room!”
Swift was carefully noting everything she said. The kid was studious, I’d give her that.
I collated this fresh information with what I already knew, then pounded my hoof against my forehead as realization sunk in. I’ve never liked being manipulated, and since coming into the Vivarium I’d been stacked against a much more canny opponent in a dizzyingly unfamiliar environment. I began to understand why those dragons smart enough to enter political circles wind up so feared in them.
“That Luna-damned water snake.” I cursed. “That’s why Stella wouldn’t talk to me. His little audience hall is bugged too. He cut everything short when I brought up the mob and left me curious. He read me like a royal banner!”
Glow bobbed her head, puffing her cigar furiously. “You ain’t kidding. Trust me, work for Stella long enough and ye get used to it. Still piss ya off though. He’s why them pin-striped sons’o’bitches been tryin’ to get in here for years and ain’t done it yet.”
Taxi sat forward and I could almost watch as her interest in the case spiked. She’d always loved working mob cases back in Narcotics, because there’s little ambiguity when you’re dealing with the mafia. They’re as close to a genuine evil as one can get without adding a heaping helping of mysticism.
“Was it the Jewelers?” She asked. “Why would they be interested in a nightclub? This strikes me as an awfully hard place to extort.”
“It ain’t just a nightclub." Tugging the knife out of the table, Glow set it spinning again, taking slow pulls from the foul cigar. My lungs were starting to ache just being in the room. "Ye ever wonder why the Heights don’t have so many murderers and thieves when it seems like damn near everyplace else in the city done turned ugly the last thirty years?”
"If I’m honest, I haven't thought about it." I admitted. "It's a statistical anomaly. The department only worries about those when they're negative. We don't have enough officers to chase down the reasons hoods don't go somewhere."
“Well, Ah’m gonna let ye in on a secret, and it’s one them mob fellers might just kill for. It’s us. The Stilettos. We keep the Heights safe.” She said it with a finality that bordered on religious fervor, then her face fell. “Leastways, that’s how it used to be...”
Swift was still scribbling away but paused long enough to ask what was on everypony’s mind: “Wait... it’s the Stilettos? I thought they were just guarding the Vivarium. How do you do that for the whole of the Heights?”
Glow snorted derisively. “If ye’d ever joined Ah’d have told ya, little bird! Ain’t you supposed to be hunting monsters or somesuch, by the way?”
The pegasus dropped the pencil from her mouth and covered her head with her wings. She said in a very small voice, “...I couldn’t make it into PACT. I’m too small.”
Her grandmare flipped her cigar into an ashtray then eased over and put her thin forelegs around Swift. It was kind of an awkward motion, but it had heart. “Awww, little bird... Ah’m sorry. Ah know yer heart was set on PACT. Still, them stupid cowponies can go get themselves set on fire by dragons. Ye’ll be a great copper. After all, yer Grandma Glow taught ya how ta shoot right, and ain’t nopony else can blow the eyelashes off a fly at fifty paces.”
Taxi and I politely turned our backs while the little exchange took place. Her first day on the job had been impressively unpleasant; neither of us could spite her out of a moment of self-pity. It brought back a few memories of my own first day, and Juniper Shore’s patient laugh when I’d almost drawn my gun on a herd of cows out for a late night.
Celestia damn it, I miss him.
I quickly shut the door on those thoughts. It was a different time, and if Jane Pony was going to have any peace, I needed to focus on the now.
Glow’s horn hummed softly. Swift blew her nose on something, then slowly extricated herself from the embrace. “I’m fine, Gran. Thanks. It’s just been a... it’s been a tough day. Tomorrow will be better. You were telling us about how you keep the Heights safe?”
After Glow crossed her rear legs, her creaky knees popping and snapping like fresh-lit kindling. With a tiny flip of her mane she tucked the tenderness away and was, again, the chief enforcer of the Stilettos. “We got a couple of ways and ain’t none of them the kind of thing ah’m gonna say in front of a law pony, sworn or not, till ah know his real colors.” I opened my muzzle to say something about ‘testing’ which was getting old, but she kept going before I could. ”Ah will say this. We ain’t responsible for any of yer dead. Stella’s rule. No bodies.”
“The Jewelers don’t usually go outside of their drug rackets and extortion. The Cyclones usually do theft and vandalism.” I pointed out. “What makes you think it’s the mob?”
“Heh, if it ain’t the mob, it’s somepony with some big’ol guts and a tiny little brain. We had a couple’a these big, burly bastards in here a few months back. It was two buffalo and an earth pony what looked like he was in charge. They come down here and start shovin’ customers, demanding money and we did ‘the usual’; froo-frooed them up in a couple’a plus sized frocks, garters, and makeup then left ‘em hangin’ outside the college covered in blue paint.” A fond smile crooked her jagged lips. I must say I’d been tempted to do similar things myself with one or two of the scumbags I’ve picked up in the course of my work.
“Scouts then. Alright, what happened after that?” I asked.
Glow picked up the stub end of her smoke and relit it. “Nothin’. We was expectin’ something. We’ve had the mob in here before, but not for plenty of years. They learned ye don’t mess about with our employees. Hoods can handle gittin’ their tails kicked. Don’t handle gittin’ their tails trimmed and dyed so good... among other things.”
“Hmmm... then nothing until you picked up this transmission? Is it an inside job? Somepony working here or a customer?” I inquired.
“Inside fer sure. We ain’t figured out who and it seems like they got our movements wrapped up tight. Miss Stella’s been monitorin’ ’em but they’re so damn careful. Every time it seems like we’ve got ’em they ain’t there. I’mma bet that’s why the dragon wants outsiders takin’ a look.” Glow spat contemptuously into a tin can on the end of her desk.
“So what exactly does this have to do with our murdered filly? It doesn’t sound like anything but a blackmail scheme.”
“Ye said her horn were gone, right? Well, we just might know somepony whose got it in for us and don’t much care for unicorns neither. See, we think there’s two of ’em. One spy on the inside, one on the out who is running all around. Onea them transmissions mentioned they was lookin’ for somepony in particular. Coulda been yer Jane Pony.”
I leaned forward, staring avidly. “You think there’s somepony pulling their strings?”
Granny Glow fiddled with her knife, dragging the edge down one side of her desk and carving a deep groove. If she were ‘getting on in years’ and slowing down she must have been a real hellion in her youth. Her magical control was flawless.
She raised an inquiring eyebrow. “Ye ever heard of a ‘King Cosmo’?”
Taxi let out a noise somewhere between a cough and a yelp. “You can’t be serious...”
I gave my driver an appraising glance. “You know this pony?”
She nodded, chewing on her lip. “He’s head of a local criminal family attached to the Jewelers. Lo Zoccolo Rosso. The Red Hoof. He’s a brutal son of the Nightmare. Organized Crime and Narcotics have been trying to hit him for years on drugs charges but he always wiggles free. Last time the only witness got cold hooves right before trial.”
“He intimidated a witness?” I growled.
Taxi’s chin sank to her chest and she exhaled. “They found the witness with all four legs frozen in a block of ice. He probably found that intimidating.”
“Right... charming fellow. He doesn’t like magic users?” I asked, moving to a position behind Swift’s left shoulder where I could read her notes. She’d just finished dotting that last question mark. Her mouth-script was as good as a unicorn’s hornwriting.
“Ye ain’t kidding. He don’t hire ‘spikes’ ‘less he has to.” replied Glow. The derogatory term for unicorns made Swift wince, but her grandmother said it casually, like it was something she was used to. “He done some ugly things to unicorns what won’t give him what he wants.” Glow drew a hoof menacingly across the base of the spiraling jut of magical bone on her forehead.
Taxi’s breath caught in her throat. “He...cuts off horns?!”
“Eeyup. Yer a bright ’un, ain’tcha?”
“Gran, be nice...” Swift chastised gently.
Glow grimaced at her. “Ah am bein’ nice! Ye ain’t seein’ me with nopony’s head jammed in nothin’.”
“So your money is on Cosmo?” I mused. “The horn thing does recommend him as a suspect.”
The elderly pony took a deep breath, choked, and quickly spat again in her spittoon. “It’s funny though. The Stilettos know he ain’t safe. The employees have standing orders not to take any jobs from him or his bunch. Don’t know why yer girl woulda gone out of house or taken work from the pikey sleaze. It ain’t strictly forbidden or nothin’, but it ain’t safe as havin’ a john come here. Yer filly had to know that.”
A knock at the office door brought us all back from our thoughts. Scarlet nosed it open, limping in on three hooves with a scroll clutched in the crook of his knee. Both of his cutie-marks had a nice blue bruise right across the wine-bottle on his luminous apple-red flanks and he was smiling like a fox that’d just caught a rabbit. “Swift? Mistress Daisy said you’d be here.”
“Whadya want, Scarlet?” After Glow growled at him.
Scarlet set the scroll down in front of my partner. Pulling the wax seal off the rolled paper he gave it a kick. It unrolled and flapped against the pegasi’s forehooves. “Mistress Stella sent this down. I’m supposed to act disappointed when I leave, then spread around the club that you refused a bribe and left.”
Swift scanned the yellowed parchment, then read it again. Her rear end hit the ground and she squeaked, “Sir, I think you’d best take a look at this...”
I turned it around and read the note,
My Dear Swift, little bird,
I’m sorry to put you in this position, darling, but your family needs you. Your mother might not have stayed, but I know you’d never abandon us in our time of desperation. By now I’m sure that feisty stallion (such lovely flanks!) has asked Miss Glow a few pertinent questions and your grandmare has told you both about our recent problems. If she hasn’t, ask her about ‘Cosmo.’
I don’t know for certain that Cosmo is the one who killed that filly, but I think I know where our spy’s little friend on the outside is going to be tomorrow. They aren’t the only ones who can tap into a communication system. Too bad we can’t transmit on their line or this would be wrapped up quickly, but they’re filtering us somehow. We can only listen.
Whoever this pony is, they’ve spotted you, the lovely Taxi, and the detective. Having police interest here is making them nervous, and they’re pulling out. It sounds like they found the pony they were looking for. They passed an address and a time through the transmission. You can get it from your grandmother and the time was just after noon tomorrow.
Based on my records, the address is the home of one of our new fillies, an ‘Azure Rose.’ Miss Rose has only been here a few months. I don’t have her cutie-mark in our records and the pictures I have don’t match the description Detective Boiled mentioned, but she might have dyed her coat.
There’s something else and herein I need your help. This spy has apparently got a lot of material from the tap into the protection network. I’m afraid they’re using some sort of voice masking so we weren’t able to get so much as a gender, but if explicit photos from the Vivarium make it into the public eye we will, at the very least, lose our customer base. It’s my hope that if we can catch them we can prevent that eventuality. If not, we’ll swim that canal when we come to it.
You best lean on the detective. I trust him. His father was a solid pony and if he’s anything like his stud, he’s going to be infuriating but also the most loyal friend you could ask for.
Love,
Mistress Stella
P.S. Scarlet is going to pinch your rear end when you’re done reading this, Mister Detective. He has my permission, so don’t kick him or I’ll eat you.
I moved a second too late just as the devious colt nipped me right on the ass. Instead of bucking him stupid, I dropped my rump, pinning his muzzle to the floor. He struggled, but his angle was all wrong and even pushing with all four hooves, he quickly wore himself out. Having his nose and mouth trapped didn’t help. When he finally collapsed, I spoke as calmly as I could with a stinging buttock: “Just because the serpent gives you permission to do something doesn’t make it smart.”
I stood, finally; he took a deep breath, then fell back on his heels. His cheeks were a very vivid burgundy and he was practically panting for breath. He backed slowly out of the room with his rear legs clamped tightly together.
“Sweet Celestia, strike me down before anything else makes this day interesting.” I said, bucking the door shut in his face.
Taxi’s expression promised much mockery and Swift looked like she’d just walked into the wrong locker-room.
“Heeheehee... don’t know as Ah’ve ever seen Scarlet so smitten.” Glow drawled, blowing blue smoke out of her nose.
“I don’t need a male escort with a crush on me.” I seethed.
“Don’t know as ya got a choice on that, cutie. Anyway, ain’t none of mah business what colts ye cuddle. Mah business is the Vivarium’s safety and the safety of the Heights. What’s that note got for ye?”
I passed the scroll to her and she floated a pair of fine silver spectacles out of her desk, settling them on the bridge of her nose. She gave it a quick once-over, then sniffed irritably and tossed it into the garbage can beside her desk.
“That scaly old queen is gonna outsmart hisself onea these days, and Ah hope Ah ain’t around to see it.” She groused.
Swift squared up and put on a serious face. “Sir, permission to pursue this line of inquiry?” Her voice cracked slightly. “Please?”
I settled my hat back on my head. “Let’s keep it simple but... yes. This sounds promising enough, although I don’t know how I feel about this scheme with the mole. Sounds like one for Organized Crime, or at least some back-up.”
After Glow’s eyes hardened. “Are ye daft, drunk, or just stupid? Ye think they ain’t got cops in their pocket who’ll let ’em in our every move? How’dya think yer department is gonna react when they find out little bird’s got family workin’ here? She’ll be out on her ear!”
Swift drew her wings around herself protectively as I worked my lower jaw, trying to think of a response. Even if there weren’t crooked cops in the department, which I wasn’t sure about, she was 100% right about Swift. Eventually I settled on “...horse-apples.”
I fumed, studying my own hooves. The old lady was right. Oh, well, it wouldn’t be my first time going under the radar, though Chief Jade had an unfortunate sixth sense for when an officer had done something that would get their name in the news along with words like ‘sham’ and ‘debacle.’
And then I realized just how grandly this could turn out to be one.
“I’ve just thought of something.” I said, “You’re not going to like it.”
“What?” asked Taxi.
“Remember how we saw that councilpony-”
“Ugh. Yes, and I don’t need reminding. I didn’t know you could get fat there.” she said, sticking out her tongue.
“Glow, without naming names,” I asked, “how many elected officials and royal bigwigs frequent this place?”
“Likely more’n a few. We ain’t exactly small potatoes, or any other kinda root vegetable.” said Glow.
"Then if they’ve got pictures of important enough ponies... If what I saw was an example, then this is the sort of shit that topples local governments.”
Taxi bit her lip - and then put her ‘thinking face’ on, which was never a good thing. She looked like she was about to drop a bombshell into the crater full of self-pity in which I was laying. When she finally spoke, it was barely above a whisper. “Hardy, I’ve... had a thought. You’re not going to like it.”
“Lay it on me. It can’t make this any worse.”
I knew it was stupid as soon as I’d said it, because her eyes said I was wrong.
“You know how the Cyclones and the Jewelers have a semi-stable divvying up of Detrot’s inner city territory, right?”
I nodded. “Yes, so?”
She turned to After Glow. “Do you mind if I ask how you go about keeping the Heights from getting pulled under? I mean, economically?”
“Ya mean keepin’ all the local businesses in our hooves?” The unicorn asked, teething her cigar thoughfully. “Well... awww shoot. It ain’t like ye won’t figure it yerself. Miss Stella owns most of the homeowners associations. He’s got talons in a lot of pies. If a business looks like it’s gonna fail, he lends them money at low interest. Everypony owes him something and he makes fer damn sure they remember, both that they got a debt and that he ain’t cruel enough to call them in all at once. We keep a stable economy and try to stay self sufficient.”
Taxi bit her braid, turning her thoughts over. “You have some ‘method’ for handling the mobsters that doesn’t involve killing or torturing them. It keeps them scared.”
Glow sucked her stogie for a moment before she replied. “Ah ain’t gonna give no specifics... but yeah, we might just have somethin’ like that.”
“So what happens to all those businesses if say, Miss Stella were to die? From a legal standpoint I mean?” I wasn’t certain where Taxi was going with this but decided to let her play it out.
“Err...Ah suppose the ownership would revert to the Vivarium...” Glow answered nervously.
“And if the Vivarium were to shut down?”
My ears lay flat against my head as realization set in.
Swift’s eyes flicked back and forth between all of us and she asked, “What? What is it? What happens?”
After Glow took her cigar and put it in the ash-tray. “The control of the properties goes back to the city. We ain’t never had to think of a situation where Miss Stella could die though. What makes ye think that’d be a possibility?”
“If they’ve got blackmail material on half the cities elite then it becomes real easy to have a PACT team come clear out a dragon’s lair.” I replied, my breath catching in the back of my throat. “The newspapers will back them up on it. A dragon that maybe ‘went suddenly rabid’ or ‘reverted to baser instincts’.”
Taxi was gnawing her mane-tips so fiercely a bit came free and she spit it out. “It’s... I think it’s worse. If the Stilettos aren’t keeping the Jewelers or the Cyclone crew out anymore, they’ll both be drawing lines in the dirt. Probably in different places. King Cosmo is a Jeweler. With pornography of the movers and shakers in his pocket he’ll just... own... the Heights, but the Cyclones won’t take that lying down.”
My partner’s mouth dropped open and she stammered, “Y-you... mean...”
“Block war in the Heights.” I added, facehoofing.
Our driver nodded. “Goddess, Hardy, what have you dropped us into?!”
My heart did a few calisthenics against my ribcage. My stomach was doing it’s best to crawl out of my throat and escape. Neither of those feelings adequately conveyed the fear which had clamped down on my brain like a thousand ton vise.
If that blackmail shit got out, it’d be disastrous. While having Mayor Snifter’s fat flank taking a spanking all over the evening newspapers did have a certain appeal, he or somepony like him would no doubt send the PACT straight to the Vivarium and they’d have Stella’s head, fake eyelashes and all, on a pike outside City Hall by sundown.
Then, after dark, the mobs would descend on the unsuspecting residents of one of the last decent places in Detrot. And they weren’t going to share nicely.
A simple murder case had just turned into a potential gang-war.
Blood would run in the streets.
Death would stalk the shadows.
I’d have to do a lot of paperwork.
****
We sat for several minutes, absorbing the problem facing us. After Glow stepped out and returned with a cup of tea, sipping it whilst waiting for me to get a grip on myself long enough to make a decision; I knew it would be my decision, in the end. It might have been Swift that Stella asked for help, but the snake was as much a creature of subtlety as was possible for a ten-ton transvestite.
I started taking deep breaths, hoping to develop a spontaneous and fatal edema in my lung from Glow’s cigar smoke, thus making all of this a non-issue. To spite me, my breathing continued unimpeded, though a floating feeling of imminent collapse was making my eyelids feel like they had lead weights attached to them. A new partner and a murder investigation was quite enough excitement for one day and my haunches were dragging, whether from fatigue or a sense of helpless indignation at what I’d been suddenly drawn into.
Part of being a cop in Detrot is thinking on your hooves. There’s no particularly good way of blending together disparate pony policing styles other than to treat most officers as free-agents and pray they don’t get killed. That can occasionally mean giving one of your officers enough rope to hang himself with. Iris Jade understood that, and hence had lasted longer than the five previous Police Chiefs combined. It didn’t make for a sense of absolute safety in the field, though.
Taxi had slipped into that meditative, unreadable place she always went to when waiting for me to do something crazy, stupid, or brilliant. It’s her way of being supportive without committing to whatever insane course of action I might send us barreling after. Swift seemed to be wavering between outright panic and keeping up a determined front, mouthing the names of obscure hero-figures right back into ancient times at a mile a minute. Keeping an eye on her would be a full time affair if she decided to lose it. Granted, a full psychotic break the first day of work was hardly unheard-of, but it would be another inconvenience in a day full of them.
It was Granny Glow who brought us all back from these thoughts to the crashing shores of cruel reality.
“Little bird, sweetie... what is that thing on your leg?” She asked, her horn flickering as she tugged Swift closer. Pulling off her spectacles, she cleaned them on a stray piece of paper then set them back in place.
Swift followed her grandmare’s eyes down to the miniature police issue firearm strapped above her knee. It was a depressing looking thing. The barrel might have made a good toothpick if somepony were so inclined and would probably have been about as dangerous.
“It’s... my gun, gran.” She tried to say it matter-of-factly but couldn’t hide her disappointment.
“That ain’t a gun! That’s a party popper!” After Glow tore the straps off of my partner’s leg with a flash of pea-green energy and wrenched the tiny weapon into the air. Swift didn’t try to stop her. It hung there in front of us like an accusation. The ammunition cartridge popped out and Glow peered at the bullets, adjusting her spectacles on her heavily lined face; They were an unimpressive sight and might have deterred a small rabbit if one were to shoot him in the scrotum.
“What joker gave mah granddaughter this toy?” She demanded, rounding on me and Taxi as she ratcheted the last slug from the chamber. “Ah’ll have his guts for garters!”
“Gran, it’s standard issue...” Swift consoled, reaching up to retrieve the weapon.
Glow swung it out of reach. I felt a fierce tug on my own gun. The hoary mare dragged me up onto my toes by one leg, my entire joint caught in a levitation field. “This here hoof-cannon ain’t ‘standard issue!’” She growled, giving me a shake for emphasis, then let my knee drop as she tossed the object of her contempt into the trash basket along with all of its cartridges. “No grandchild of mine is gonna walk these streets with a piddlin’ piece of filly fluff for protection. Particularly not with them mob fellers out there beatin’ on the door.”
Pulling open the bottom drawer of her desk, she floated out an incredibly ornate box made of shiny black gunmetal. She ushered Swift closer as she set it on the table.
“This here Ah took of a stallion a few years ago what had great taste in hardware but poor life choices. He mighta been compensatin’ for somethin’. Dunno where he got it but... well, you know I ain’t got much use fer guns, and it deserves somepony to love it.” She pushed the top off the case then stepped away.
Taxi wheezed as she saw the box’s contents and my tail snapped out straight like a point-dog who’d caught a scent.
My gun is no great beauty, but it fires every time the trigger is pulled and has a sweet, reliable soul to it that I would never exchange for any other weapon. Even so, for an instant, I felt a twinge of envy. There was only one word for the equalizer laying in its nest of silk in that box: art. I’d seen museum pieces less lovely.
It was a long barrel target pistol in the .45 caliber range. The straps looked like extremely rare and expensive hydra leather, supple and guaranteed never to break. Its sights were diamond shards implanted along the barrel, aligned for perfect accuracy. Carved into the side of it with infinite precision was a Neighponese horn sword with four characters in their funny script on the blade. The entire thing gleamed like polished silver.
Swift realized she hadn’t taken a breath in some time and gasped. “Oh gran... I couldn’t...”
After Glow swatted in her direction with her tail. “Ye can and ye will, or so help me Ah’ll turn an officer of the law over mah lap and tan her hide fer bein’ stupid.” Raising the magnificent weapon out of it’s case, she slid it around Swift’s upper leg and began the laborious process of attaching it to the complex gun-harness. The pegasus just stood there with a big, stupid grin on her face as her grandmare dressed her, adjusting her uniform where necessary.
When Glow was done there was no disguising the presence of the pistol. It stuck out three inches from the end of Swift’s knee. It looked like it should have been heavy and awkward, but didn’t seem to impede her in the slightest as she took a few experimental flaps of her wings, lifting off and hanging there, pointing the gun at various objects in the room, before swooping down and hugging After Glow tight as she could. “Oh, it’s amazing!”
Her grandmother held her a moment longer then stood back. “Now, ye take good care of it. Needs yer love and it’ll keep ye safe.” She then magicked open one of her desk drawers, out of which floated a spare magazine and a box of hollow-points. She slipped these into Swift’s vest pockets with the same sort of matronly doting with which any other grandmare might have given out butterscotch candies.
Swift peered at the characters on the etched blade. “Mmm... I took a year of Neighponese in school, but I only really remember the phonetic characters...”
Taxi twisted her head to where she could read it right side up. “It says ‘Masamane.’”
My partner’s grinned so hard her cheeks almost climbed onto her forehead. “Masamane?! As in The Blade that Cuts the Heavens?!”
“Yep. Whoever customized that gun knew their Neighponese history.” said Taxi, while Swift all but cuddled the weapon, visions of herself as a fearless samareai warrior doubtless swirling about in her head.
Glow shrugged and began flipping through her desk drawer again until she found a manilla folder with the name ‘Azure Rose’ on the tab. “Like ah said. Former owner had good sense in shooters but overcompensated for other deficiencies.”
I knew it was a bad idea to ask, but again, curiosity is the great vice of anypony who goes into police work. “You mind if I ask what kind of ‘overcompensation’ you mean?”
Glow cackled and her knife spun so fast it let off a buzzing sound. “He took a swing at me when ah cut ’im off at the bar. T’wern’t the smartest thing a colt ever done.”
“What did you do?” I asked.
The balisong swung down and buried itself in the carpet between my forelegs. “After he woke up ah gave ’em a choice. He could gimme his rod or... heh... his rod.”
I clamped my tail over my butt, stepped over the quivering blade, and flipped Azure Rose’s personnel file open. All that was in it was a sheet with an address, a few physical statistics that seemed reasonably close to our Jane Pony, and a list with two columns headed ‘Does’ and ‘Does Not.’ For a hooker, the ‘Does Not’ list seemed inordinately long.
“Is our girl popular?” I asked, running a toe down the fetishes, a third of which I'd never even heard of.
“She’s a right lovely little thing but she mostly tends bar. Don’t pay as good as the back rooms, but then Ah never got the feelin’ she was stayin’ long. Ah know she’d take a john home now and then, but Ah think she were mostly just lonely. Always talkin’ about leavin’ town when she had enough money.”
I pondered that, then filed it away along with the growing stack of other little mysteries. A lonely isolationist without much interest in work as a prostitute and a need to acquire a large sum of money. She was young, not closely connected to her peers, and intent on getting out of the city. It wasn’t a lot, but it was more than I’d started the morning with. At the very least, we had a name and a suspect. I could only wrap my brain around so many problems simultaneously.
I grabbed my coat and slid it on over my forelegs. “I’ll check the files and see what we’ve got on your filly. If you find her alive somewhere, be sure to get in touch with Detective Swift.”
Granny Glow swung the door open but as I got up to leave she gave me a tiny tug on the tail. “Little bird and miss Taxi... ye mind waitin’ outside fer a moment?”
Taxi winked at me then stepped into the hall. Swift’s wing-feathers stood on end. “Gran, please don’t...”
I gave the pegasus a little push with my hip. “It’s fine. Go wait in the bar. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” For an instant I thought she might stand her ground and make a fuss, but she relented and let herself be herded out into the hall.
The door slid closed and I was suddenly alone with Granny Glow. She shifted from one hoof to the other, her knees letting out a crackle that sounded like gunshots in the tiny space. Swinging her cigar to the other side of her mouth, she studied me with an ageless self-certainty.
I let the silence linger but she wasn’t interested in playing games of intimidation. She spoke firmly. “Ah ain’t gonna bother with a threat, Detective. Ye don’t strike me as the type that’s too scared of dyin’ yerself.”
I acknowledged that with a flick of one ear.
Glow waved her stogie at the office door and the ponies outside. “Ye mighta seen mah granddaughter is a smart’un but she don’t have too good a grasp on reality. Whatever she might say, she still thinks of the whole damn world like one’a them Daring Do rags Ah was always sneaking to her.”
I raised my shoulders and let them drop. “I noticed.”
She set her cigar and spectacles aside. “Iffen ah mark ye rightly yer not a stupid pony. That dunder-headed accountant mah daughter fell for might be a fine enough father, but he don’t know up from down on the mean streets. Ah did what Ah could. Ah taught her to shoot and think on her hooves. Yer gonna have to teach her the things what matter.”
“Ma’am, I’m not-” I began but she clamped my jaw shut with a spark from the end of her horn. I snorted angrily but she was having none of it.
“Ah ain’t finished.” She snapped then shut her eyes and said in a more measured tone, “Yer her partner. She’ll do somethin’ stupid at some point. Iffen’ ye don’t help her with this hood what threatens her family she’ll go off and try to handle it herself. Ye don’t let her get herself killed.” The hold on my nose became a little tighter and I couldn’t hold back a pained groan; having my teeth ground together by invisible hooves was a new and altogether disagreeable sensation.
She let it relax as she went on. “Ah won’t kill ye. Ah ain’t that kind. Yer gonna live iffen she don’t and you know what? Ye’ll be the one what buries her. She dies, ah’ll stand there and hold a shovel and ye’ll be there beside me. Don’t ye ever forget it, Mr.Detective. If ah read ye right, ye’ve buried somepony else.”
My chest clenched tight as a few nasty memories crowded into the front of my brain, but she was still holding my mouth shut so I couldn’t say a word. She saw the reaction though. “Ahhh... Ah was right. Good.”
After Glow released her painful grip on my face and I stumbled over my own hooves backing away, grunting as my tail hit the carpet. She stood over me, staring down with a really alarming glower, then lifted me onto all fours and began smoothing out my coat and hat. I couldn’t think of anything to say that would convince her I could be trusted with her granddaughter's life. Damn, I couldn’t think of anything to say to convince me of that, but considering Glow could probably have crushed my head like an egg, I decided expressing this would be unhealthy.
Twisting the doorhandle, she pointed me outside. “Ah don’t care one lick iffen ye wanna die, but I know she cares, so yer gonna find this spy and keep yer city safe. Find out who murdered that poor filly and took her horn.” She growled menacingly. “Iffen it was one’a these scum-suckers what thinks they can own Detrot, ye bring ’em to old Granny Glow...” Her knife tore itself out of the carpeting and set to spinning again beside her head. “Ah’ll teach ’em to fear a filly’s cut. Now git!” I barely kept my legs under me as she scooped me up and practically flung me out of the room.
The door banged shut and I realized, unhappily, that my partner and Taxi were gone and I had no idea how to get back to the bar.