//------------------------------// // Case Twenty One, Chapter Three: Appleloosan Intrigue // Story: Ponyville Noire: Rising Nightmares // by PonyJosiah13 //------------------------------// “It’s like I told Deputy Braeburn, sir,” First Gear said, the oil-black earth pony stallion rubbing the back of his scruffy red mane. His brown eyes shone out from his pimple-dotted face as he nervously licked his lips. “When I got back to the general store, I parked the truck and pulled out my bag of tips. I tripped coming out of the truck and dropped the bag on the ground. When I looked into the bag, I saw the fake coin had broken open like an egg.”  Phillip glanced down at the small fake coin in the plastic bag. The bit was a high-quality forgery; he himself probably would’ve fallen for it. The markings claimed that it was forged in Fillydelphia in 1942, and it was well-scuffed from usage. There was a tiny hole, just large enough for a paperclip to be inserted, beneath Princess Faust's eye; he supposed that that was the intended method of opening the coin. “You sure that only four ponies tipped you?” he asked the delivery pony.  First Gear sucked on his lower lip as he thought. “Quite certain, sir. Open Casket, Della Delivery, Coal Tender, and Golden Crust. I didn’t have as many deliveries as I’d thought, so I remember them all...”  Behind Phil, Daring Do turned away from their conversation to look over the rest of the Appleloosa General Store. The building was nearly as old as the town itself, the floor nothing more than bare wood. Shelves were stuffed with items ranging from envelopes and paper to kitchen utensils and cutlery to books to knives, bows and arrows, guns, and ammunition. Open barrels were stuffed with apples, oranges, beans, and other staples; the scent of fresh oatmeal cookies displayed on a nearby table tempted her. Chalked up on the wall was a list of weekly specials: today was olive and tomato pasta salad, currently set out in paper cups with plastic covers, each cup labeled with the store’s logo: an apple tree and a horseshoe. Yesterday’s special was coleslaw with vinegar dressing, and for Hearth’s Warming Eve, it was a takeout cup of Grand Apple Pie’s Curried Carrot and Apple Soup.  She turned to the counter, where Braeburn was speaking to the proprietor, a golden green-eyed earth pony stallion named Penny Pie; the owner’s bronze mustache bristled every time he spoke.  “Well, I do remember that unicorn mare,” Penny said, brushing off his green, stain-covered apron. “Don’t really get a lot of unicorns ‘round here, 'specially not ones as pretty as her, and I remember her because she wanted to get a good bolt of fabric for a kite. Stood out to me.”  “Do you remember who else was here in the store?” Braeburn pressed.  Penny thought for a moment. “Hmm...well, Hearth’s Warming Eve is always a bit busy, what with last-minute shoppers,” he said.  “Were Open Casket, Della Delivery, Coal Tender, or Golden Crust here?” Phillip asked, approaching with his list of names and addresses.  Penny scratched his balding head. “Hmm...I can’t say for sure. The days have a tendency to blur together when they’re that busy.”  Phillip frowned and glared at his list. “Right. Have to ask them ourselves, then.”  “How are we gonna narrow it down?” Rainbow Dash asked. “Pretty sure that they’re not gonna have a sign that says ‘I’m a spy.’”  “It’s a start, kid,” Daring said. “We’ll ask them about being in the store on Hearth’s Warming Eve, and if they’ve ever been to the Crystal Empire.”  “We’ll split up,” Phillip said. “Daring, you and RD take two suspects. Deputy and I will take the other two.”  “Got it,” Daring nodded as they exited.  Rainbow chuckled as she flew off after Daring. "This sure as hell beats that fundraising party that the weather team would be holding today," she commented to her mentor. "Bunch of old rich ponies going on and on about how weather is so important and getting the right equipment, blah blah blah." Daring gave her protege a small smile. "Agreed," she nodded. Daring looked at the small file as she and Rainbow approached the old, rickety-looking house that stood on its own, pushed away from the surrounding buildings like a leper shunned by its neighbors. The sign hanging over the door creaked as it swung in the light wind, lit by the reddening sun creeping ever closer to the horizon.  “‘Open Casket, Undertaker,’” Rainbow read the sign out loud. “‘Embalming, Coffins, Headstones, and More: Affordable and Sensitive Care.’” She snorted as she looked over the house, which was leaning to one side as if using the crumbling stone chimney for support. Many of the windows were yellowed with dust and most of the few shutters that were still attached to the window were only hanging on by a single rusted hinge. “Yeah. That’s definitely the house of a sensitive pony.”  “Don’t underestimate this pony, Dash,” Daring said, showing Rainbow the file from the sheriff’s office that they’d picked up. “This guy served a one-year sentence in Fillydelphia in ‘43 for smuggling drugs over the Crystal Empire border in his coffins. He moved down here after.”  “Maybe they were smuggling secrets, too,” Rainbow suggested.  “Maybe,” Daring said. “Let me do the talking, all right? Keep your eyes peeled for anything out of place.”  She pushed open the door; the jingling of the bell over the door was nearly drowned out by the creaking of hinges that apparently hadn’t been oiled since the town was founded.  The door opened to a crowded display room. One wall had several laminated photographs of different styles of headstones. Vases of fake flowers gathered dust in every corner, and a clothes rack held a plethora of formal suits and dresses for the deceased to wear. An ornate grandfather clock stood next to the door; the slow, heavy ticking of its brass pendulum clashed with the quiet organ music playing from a nearby victrola.  And everywhere the two mares turned, there were coffins. Every shape, every size, every color, and every type of wood, ranging from simple pine boxes to ornate oak coffins with intricately carved reliefs.  “Hello?” Daring called out, the floorboards groaning beneath her weight.  “Maybe he’s not here,” Rainbow commented, knocking on the top of a maple coffin.  The coffin sprang open with a creak and the pale stallion in an immaculate suit inside sat up, turning to look at Rainbow with wide green eyes. “Yes?” he croaked.  “BWAAUGH!” Rainbow cried, leaping away from the other pony and into Daring Do’s arms; Daring grunted in shock as Rainbow’s forelimbs encircled her neck.  The pony in the coffin blinked owlishly at them. Daring glared at Rainbow, who let out a sheepish chuckle and climbed off her.  “Open Casket?” Daring asked, brushing off her shirt as the stallion climbed out of the coffin.  The pale yellow stallion had only a few strands of his chestnut brown mane left, and his green eyes were magnified by his thick glasses. His old-fashioned suit was immaculately cleaned and pressed, though his hooves were hardened and callused from the labor of crafting coffins, and she detected a faint chemical odor emanating from him. His cutie mark was an open coffin with flowers surrounding it.  “Yes,” Open Casket replied, his voice as slow and deliberate as his movements. “How can I help you?”  “Daring Do and Rainbow Dash,” Daring introduced herself and her partner.  “Ah, the famous detective,” Open Casket said, studying her through his thick lenses. “Have you need of my services?”  “No,” Daring said, noting with some discomfort that the undertaker was examining both mares like he was sizing them up for a casket. “We’re here about the coin.”  Open Casket tilted his head to one side with a scowl. “As I told Deputy Braeburn before, that coin is not mine. I have never seen anything like it before and I do not know who would have one.”  “Where were you on Hearth’s Warming Eve?” Daring asked.  “Here,” the mortician replied, keeping his keen eyes on Rainbow as the younger pegasus examined the victrola. “There is not often business during the holidays, so I take the time to finish work on some of my coffins. I was putting the finishing touches on this one.” He gestured to a red cherry coffin with flowers etched onto the sides.  “Lot of work for a coffin,” Rainbow commented.  “I take pride in my work,” Open Casket answered. “And I believe that a coffin need not be merely a box. Why should a pony not put their loved one to rest in lavish comfort? That’s why I test each coffin myself to ensure that it is spacious enough. This one is bound for Ponyville for a special order.”   Daring bit back a comment about how she wasn’t sure how much a dead pony could appreciate their accommodations. “Did you go into the general store on Hearth’s Warming Eve?” she asked.  “No,” the mortician answered. “I have not been in the general store since I placed my orders for supplies on Monday.”  “What supplies?” Rainbow asked.  “Woodcrafting tools and materials that they were out of when I went there Monday. Is this really pertinent?” Open Casket asked.  “It is.” Daring thought for a few moments. “Have you ever been to the Crystal Empire?” she asked.  Open Casket frowned. “Yes,” he admitted. “I met with a few of my customers during my brief...side career. Gangsters and mobsters in both Equestria and the outskirts of the Empire, looking for an easy way to cart drugs.” He closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath. “It was solely for money, understand,” he said to Daring. “A few extra bits in my pocket. It was a foolish mistake that I would take back in a heartbeat if I could. Then I wouldn’t be eking out this humble living here.”  “It was just drugs?” Daring asked. “You were never asked about smuggling...other items?”  “Only drugs,” the stallion confirmed. “I never asked about other materials and never wanted to get involved in that.”  “So you speak Crystalline?”  “Un po. Non mi alleno da anni,” Open shrugged.  “And do you have a radio?” Daring asked.  “Only the old victrola over there,” he nodded to the old record player still crooning out hymns.  Daring frowned and took one last look around the store. She glanced at the victrola, which Rainbow had completed studying.  “One last thing. Have you seen any unusual unicorns in town?” Daring asked.  Open Casket shook his head. “No. Not that I have seen.”  Daring glanced over at Rainbow, receiving a shrug in response.  “We’ll be in touch if we need anything else,” Daring said.  Open Casket nodded slowly, his expression inscrutable. “Perhaps I’ll be seeing you later,” he said as the two mares exited, the door groaning behind them.  Rainbow shuddered as they stepped out into the darkening Appleloosa streets. “Creep,” she muttered.  “Agreed,” Daring nodded.  “You think he’s the spy?” Rainbow asked. “He could be using that victrola as a radio, and he does speak the language.”  “Can’t be sure, kid,” Daring replied. “We’ve still got to check the other SNAKE!” she screamed, leaping into Rainbow’s arms to escape the vivid green snake that was slithering across the boardwalk in front of them. The serpent barely acknowledged either of them as it made its way beneath the boardwalk through a crack.  Rainbow smirked and raised an eyebrow at Daring Do. The great adventurer coughed and climbed off Rainbow, her cheeks coloring as she dusted herself off.  “Right. Let’s go,” she said, taking to the air. Rainbow followed, sniggering all the way.  “On Hearth’s Warming Eve?” Della Delivery asked, pushing a lock of her reddish mane back behind her ear. The portly green earth pony with the cutie mark of a stamped package frowned in thought, shifting on the sofa of her condo and playing with her charm necklace with one hoof. “Nope, I didn’t go to the store that day. I was busy at work most of the day with the deliveries, getting them shipped out onto the trains.”  Phillip glanced at his notebook, then around the room. Della’s living room would’ve been a humble space, with comfortable but cheap sofas, a simple coffee table with some hoofmade coasters decorated with artwork of settler times, and an old radio nearly the size of an icebox.  But everywhere one looked, there were scrapbooking pages displayed on the walls, framed for display. The wall to Phillip’s right included a page dedicated to Della’s vacation to Baltimare; right across from him was a large display of her coworkers at the post office, including the delivery workers at the train depot. In fact, she had clearly been in the middle of her latest project when Phillip and Braeburn interrupted her, for the table was occupied with glue, scissors, paper, and photographs that seemed to depict sunsets over the Appleloosan desert.  “You haven’t seen any unusual ponies around town?” he asked. “Any strange unicorns?”  Della raised an eyebrow. “I haven’t lived in Appleloosa for very long, but even I know that a unicorn around here would raise a few eyebrows,” she said, raising a hoof to play with the little charm necklace around her neck. “Mostly earth ponies like me ‘round these parts.”  “Where’d you live before Appleloosa?” Phillip asked.  “Manehattan,” Della said. “Born and raised there, but after it got taken over by the Crystal Army during the war, I decided to head down here for someplace a little safer and quieter. Pay’s not quite as good, but it’s peaceful and easier and I have a lot more time for my projects.” She smiled and gestured around the room at the fruits of her labors. “I’ve been thinking about branching out, making it a business or something.”  “Hmm,” Phillip muttered, taking another look around the room. His eyes ran over a set of brown mushroom leather boots set next to the door before moving on. “You ever been to the Crystal Empire?”  Della scowled. “After those stone bastards tried to wipe us all out? Why would I ever even want to go there? I don’t even speak the language. What’s this got to do with that weird coin?”  “Just trying to figure out who it’s from.,” Phillip said.  Della frowned. “I told you last time, Braeburn,” she said, turning to Braeburn. “I ain’t seen that coin before. You don’t think I’m mixed up in this, do you?”  “I’m just doing my job, Della,” Braeburn replied soothingly. “If there’s somepony up to mischief ‘round here, I gotta root ‘em out.”  “If you have nothing to hide, you needn’t worry,” Phillip said, rising and beckoning for Braeburn to follow. “We might be in touch later.”  “I hope you find what you’re looking for,” Della waved them out.  “Good evening, Della,” Braeburn said with a tipped hat as he and Phillip exited.  As the two stallions left, the deputy turned to Phillip, who was watching Della’s neighbor, a rail-thin blonde-coated stallion with thin glasses, dragging his trash can down to the end of the drive. The neighbor gave them a brief nod as he turned and headed back up the drive to the door.  “You think that she’s the spy?” Braeburn whispered to Phillip as he headed to the street.  “Not sure,” Phillip replied. “Need more evidence.”  Braeburn sighed. “I know all of these ponies, Phil,” he protested to the detective. “They’re neighbors, good ponies. It’s hard for me to think that one of ‘em might be a traitor.”  “If they were good at their job, you’d never know they were a spy,” Phillip said. “Only reason we know is ‘cause they buggered up and gave First Gear their fake coin.”  “You’re right,” Braeburn nodded, rubbing the back of his mane. “I just hope we can find ‘em before somepony gets hurt.”  They proceeded in silence until they reached their next stop: Golden Crust’s bakery, the last shop on the right on a long stretch of shops. The sign over the doors displayed an array of breads, cakes, pies, and cookies, with the windows showing carefully arranged displays of the real items.  But as Phillip approached the door, he spotted a sign hanging in the window of the door. “‘On vacation in the Fillypines,’” he read out loud. “‘Will be back next week.’” He gritted his teeth and glared at the locked door. “Damn.”  “Hmm. He must’ve left this morning,” Braeburn commented. “Maybe Coal Tender is still around.”  “Nope,” the coal-black stallion replied, putting on his blue jacket. “I wasn’t in the general store on Hearth’s Warming Eve. I was resting up for the long rides that night, with ponies heading all over Equestria to get to their homes. And like I told the Deputy before, I never saw a coin like that before.”  His sky blue eyes glanced at the two mares in the mirror as he brushed his cloud-white mane out of his face. “Why do you ask?”  “Just following up on some details,” Daring replied evenly, glancing around the engineer’s apartment. The small space was clearly not used often; the kitchen featured a small icebox that, based on a brief glance she’d gotten earlier when Coal Tender retrieved his lunchbox, contained little more than frozen meals and cider. There was a single recliner with a few magazines stacked next to it, a small radio, a bathroom, and a bedroom with a cheap mattress.  “Details like what?” Coal Tender replied evenly, keeping his eyes on Daring and Rainbow even as he finished tending to his mane.  “Like whose coin that is,” Daring replied, watching Rainbow shuffling her hooves in boredom as her eyes panned around the room.  Coal Tender frowned at her over his shoulder. “Is this about the parasprites?” he asked.   Daring Do blinked. “Excuse me?”  “The parasprites,” Coal Tender repeated in a conspiratorial whisper, turning around. “You see them everywhere too, right? You’re trying to track down who’s infected?” He cocked his head. “You can check my ears for the scat if you want.”  “Uhhh…” Daring stammered, taking a small step back.  “Hey, Daring,” Rainbow called, hoofing through a pile of magazines in a box near the door. Glancing over, Daring saw that they all had titles like Core Magazine, Powershovel Press, and The Truth. One cover proudly displayed a crudely shopped image of a lizard-thing putting on a Princess Celestia mask; the title proudly announced that within the pages were fifteen ways to protect yourself from being tracked by the fluoride in toothpaste.  “Interesting reading material you’ve got here,” Daring commented.  “These are the only magazines that tell the truth about how the world works,” Coal Tender replied. “They put memetic spells in the paper for major newspapers to make it easier to control you.”  “Right,” Daring said slowly. “You ever been to the Crystal Empire?”  “The Crystal Empire isn’t real,” Coal Tender whispered. “It’s all illusions and mind control spells to hide the experiments that the Princesses are doing.”  Daring and Rainbow both glanced at each other. “Whatever you say,” Rainbow said. “We’re gonna go now.” “Right; I gotta get to work anyway,” Coal Tender replied, grabbing his lunch pail. He led his two guests out and locked the door behind them.  “Watch your backs,” he whispered to them as he headed down the stairs to the front door, looking both ways before leaving. “You never know who to trust in this town.” With a final nod, he started heading towards the train despot, leaving the two pegasi on the front step of the apartment.  Daring and Rainbow stared at each other for a long moment of silence. “Well,” Rainbow finally said. “That happened.”  “Yup,” Daring nodded.  “He could be faking it,” Rainbow suggested. “Making it look like he’s crazy so no one suspects him.”  “Maybe,” Daring shrugged. “Or maybe we’re barking up the wrong tree.” She sighed and glanced up at the evening sky, the purples and dark blues of the western sky slowly retreating against the onslaught of star-spangled black. “Let’s head back to the sheriff’s department and meet up with the others. Maybe they had more luck than us.”  The two pegasi took flight and headed south, quickly reaching the Sheriff’s department. The squat, single-story brick edifice sat near the end of Main Street; a great silver star of wood still stood proudly over the door as it had since the founding of the town, despite the faded paint and battered construction. A placard next to the front door told a brief history of the Department, featuring a black and white photograph of the original shack that the sheriff had been housed in.  Braeburn and Phillip were just reaching the door when the pegasi descended from the sky. “You find any likely suspects?” Daring asks.  “Only got to speak to Della,” Phillip said. “Crust is out on vacation.”  “That’s convenient,” Daring frowned.  “How’d you make out?” Braeburn asked.  “Well, Casket is a creep, but he does speak the language and had some contacts with the Crystal Empire’s mob,” Daring said. “He denied being a spy, of course, and he said he wasn’t at the general store on Wednesday.”  “Same with Della,” Braeburn admitted.  “And Coal Tender,” Rainbow said. “Who’s a complete lunatic, by the way.”  “Oh, you found his...collection, right?” Braeburn said with an embarrassed chuckle. “Yeah, we all know he’s a bit of a nut, but he’s pretty harmless and he does his job well. Lived here almost all his life, after all.”  “If by ‘nut,’ you mean ‘an entire fruitcake…’” Rainbow muttered, prompting Daring to let out a brief snort.  “I can’t figure out why King Sombra would’ve wanted a spy in Appleloosa,” Braeburn commented. “We’re a small town with no military bases anywhere nearby.”  “Could be a sleeper agent,” Phillip said. “Hiding down here to escape or waiting until they’re needed again. Casket and Della both lived elsewhere before coming to Appleloosa, and Coal moves all around Equestria regularly; could use that as a cover for passing messages.”  “Needed again?” Braeburn whispered, his eyes widening. “You don’t think...he’s back, do you?”  “Well, someone’s giving the Plague Doctor their orders,” Daring said.  Braeburn shuddered. “And you’re sure that one of those ponies works for him?” he asked.  “Looks that way,” Phillip nodded grimly. “But we need more evidence to figure out who.”  Braeburn sighed and glanced up at the darkening sky. “Well, we might be in for a long haul, ponies,” he said. “You’d best find a hotel to spend the night. There’s a good place near the train station, the Watering Hole. I’ll have some deputies check on the buffalo village tonight to make sure that there’s nopony suspicious nearby.” He yawned. “We’ll pick this back up in the morning. See you then.” With a final nod, he turned and headed into the department.   Phillip rolled his shoulders with a quiet groan. “I’m buggered. Let’s get a hotel room and find something to eat.”  Daring frowned but nodded reluctantly. “I hate that we just have to wait for them to do something,” she grumbled as they headed back up the street, passing a few late-night passersby.  “Not much more we can do,” Phillip said. “Sleep on it, might come up with something.”  Daring tilted her head back to look up at the sky. A multitude of stars twinkled down at them, spread across the sky in a beatific array.  “Wow,” Rainbow Dash breathed, looking up alongside Daring. “I’m never gonna get tired of seeing that.” She squinted around at the constellations. “There’s Polaris,” she said, pointing at the North Star. “And that’s...Sirius?”  “No, that’s Betelgeuse,” Daring corrected her. “It’s part of Orion; see his belt beneath the star?”  “Oh, right,” Rainbow nodded.  “Canis Major hasn’t risen yet,” Daring said, turning towards the horizon and making a brief calculation in her head. “It’ll be coming up from the sky over...there.”  “How do they even decide what to name stars?” Rainbow wondered out loud. “Like, I just see a bunch of dots. I only know how to find the North Star because I can use that to navigate.”  “There’s more to it than just dots in the sky,” Daring said. “When ponies saw shapes in the sky, they’d make up stories about them, to try to make sense of the world around them. Take Orion,” she continued, gesturing up at the hunter over their head, weapon ever raised. “The Neighgyptians thought that he was a god named Sah; because he rose before Canis Minor, he was thought to be the husband and protector of the goddess Sopdet, who brought the new year. Ancient pegasi thought that he was a hunter that was punished for deciding that he wanted to kill all the animals on Earth, so the ancestors had him killed by a scorpion; that’s why Orion and Scorpion are never in the sky at the same time. And some buffalo tribes call Orion Kabibona'kan, the Winter Maker, because it’s a winter constellation.”  “Huh,” Rainbow said, studying Orion with fresh eyes. “Maybe I should read up on stuff like this.”  “I know it’s hard to believe, but there are more books out there outside of Hayana Pones and Compass Rose,” Daring smirked at her.  “Yeah, but nothing’s as good as Compass Rose,” Rainbow declared. “Why would I want to read anything else?”  “Flattery won’t get you anywhere with me, kid,” Daring chuckled, tussling Rainbow’s mane as they reached the Watering Hole, a three-story hotel within walking distance of the train station. The sign over the door declared that there was vacancy available and that there was an open bar and a grill within for the weary traveler. “Let’s get some food.”  Appleloosa became still and silent as the sun set. The only sound left was the whisper of the wind passing through the narrow streets.  The quiet was quickly broken by a gentle rapping at a chamber door. The spy checked out the window to meet the coal-black eyes of a raven with a red marking on its breast. The bird cocked her head, then flapped off into the distance. The spy took in a slow breath and pulled their coat to their body, stepping out into the night. They kept their movements slow and casual, just another citizen out for a late-night walk. Indeed, they saw a few other pedestrians out amidst the Appleloosan roads and greeted each with a brief nod and a smile. But all the time, they kept their eyes on the black shadow flying overhead, guiding them on. They doubled-back, circled blocks, and checked their reflection in store mirrors, watchful of any sign of pursuit. But no one seemed to be following them. The spy left the main center of Appleloosa and made their way to the western outskirts of the town. Here, the buildings were further spread out, like islands of an archipelago in a sea of dark sand. The raven perched on an abandoned building, a former barn. The spy glanced around to make sure that nopony was paying attention to them, then walked around to the side of the building, out of sight of the streets. A side door lay before them. With a swallow, the spy stepped forward and knocked quietly. The door opened and the spy froze for a moment at the sight of the stallion on the other side. The red eyes stared at him coldly from the shadows of his jacket’s hood, the rest of his face covered by a scarf. The Plague Doctor glared at the spy, then looked up. The raven fluttered down to their shoulder and let out a soft coo. The Doctor nodded and stepped aside to allow the spy to enter. The spy shivered as they passed by the pegasus into the darkness. The shutting of the wooden door behind them felt like a great tomb door crashing closed. A flashlight clicked on to banish some of the shadows. In the thin light, the spy briefly noted rotting timbers holding up the ceiling and rusted tools spread across the dirt floor before turning to face the cold red eyes. “I scouted out the camp earlier, sir,” the spy said, pulling out a notebook and a small penlight from their pocket. They flipped the book open, snapping on the ultraviolet light to reveal sketches and maps drawn upon the pages. “Looks like the two traitors sleep in this tent here.” They pointed to a circled tent in the midst of the camp. “But there’s a lot of buffalo sleeping throughout the camp, and some of them are armed.”  The Plague Doctor continued to stare at the maps and notes, though the raven cocked its head to stare at the spy, the coal-black eyes burning into their soul.  The spy gulped and shifted in place. “But...they’re going to be on guard now, sir,” they said in a quieter tone. “The detectives...I don’t know how they know, but they’re here.”  The Plague Doctor looked up at their comrade, his eyes burning from the shadows of his disguise. After a moment, the scarlet irides glittered.  The spy realized that he was smiling.