//------------------------------// // The Preposterous Proposition // Story: Pandoramonium: A Detective Rarity Mystery // by RB_ //------------------------------// The note Fancy received is reproduced here exactly as written, as a courtesy to the reader: To the passengers of this most magnificent airship; I hope you are enjoying your trip so far.  My name is unimportant. What is important is what I’m about to say, so read carefully. Your fates may be decided by what happens in the next few days. Underneath your chairs, some of you will find a box. You may be tempted to open yours now, but I suggest that you wait until you are alone. For you see, inside each of these boxes is a secret. Each of you has something to hide. Something, I suspect, you’d like to stay hidden. For some of you, it may merely be a stain upon your honor. For others, it may be something far more serious. And for some of you, it may be a matter of life and death. The contents of each of your boxes represent that which you so desperately want to keep hidden. You can take it as proof that I’m not lying about any of this. I suspect the mood in the room is a somber one. Do not worry. I am very good at keeping secrets… but first, you’ll have to do me a little favor. If you do not want the secret inside your box to stop being a secret, then all you must do is leave a sum total of one-hundred thousand bits at one or several of the six locations listed below within a week from the reading of this note. If any one of you leaves the Anesidora before touching down in Vanhoover, then the contents of your boxes will be in the papers for everyone to read by the next morning. If any one of you contacts the police, then the very same will happen. I trust you all are smarter than that.  Have a wonderful trip. “I have no idea how they got there. I don’t know anything.” The chef was a middle-aged stallion, with a hairline that was receding from his horn. His apron was covered in malign stains, and he had the saggy skin of someone who might have been muscular once but certainly wasn’t now. “I’ve got nothing to do with this, swear on Celestia.” He was also a very bad liar. “Clearly you must, sir,” Rarity said, taking a step towards him. “You were, after all, the one who delivered the envelope.” “I don’t know where that came from. I found it here while I was making lunch.” Rarity raised an eyebrow. “Where?” The chef bit his lip. “Erm… on the counter.” “On a plate?” “Yes.” “And you didn’t report it immediately because?” “W-why would I? It was just an envelope. I figured it could wait until Mr. Pants got to the dining room.” Rarity took another step forward; the chef took a half-step back. “And you found it while you were making lunch?” “I’d just put the souffles in the oven.” He looked relieved. “Then…” Rarity smiled. “You must have seen who put it there, correct?” The chef blanched. “Eh?” “If it was just sitting on the counter out in the open, when you arrived, you would have noticed it immediately.” She gestured around the kitchen. “After all, the room isn’t exactly spacious. Such a thing would have been quite conspicuous.” She took another step forward. This time, when the chef attempted to take a step back, his rear butted up against the counter. “So,” she continued. “If it wasn’t there when you arrived, then it must have been placed there while you were working. Which of course means that someone must have placed it; and, again, in a room as cozy as this one, it’s somewhat unbelievable that you wouldn’t have caught them in the act. On top of that, the workstation faces the door; if you were indeed preparing lunch, anyone entering would have had to cross your line of sight. Right?” “U-um—” “Then,” Rarity said, “if someone came into the kitchen and placed the letter for you to find, then you must have seen who it was. Which, of course, means you would know the identity of the blackmailer.” She turned to Rainbow. “It appears this case was easier than I expected!” “Yeah,” Rainbow said, also smiling. “Good thing we have our prime witness!” “So,” Rarity said, turning back to the chef. Her smile shifted from one of mirth to something far more predatory. “Who was it?” “I-it… uh…” The chef swallowed. “It was…” “Speak up, darling,” Rarity said, her expression unwavering. “You seem to be having some trouble. Cat got your tongue? Or did you just conveniently forget?” “I— L-look, it wasn’t me who set all this up!” the chef said, looking like doing his absolute best to phase into the counter behind him. “I’m innocent in this! I don’t know anything.” Rarity sighed. “Alright. Rainbow? Diplomacy has failed. I yield to your expertise.” Rainbow raised an eyebrow. “That’s what you call diplomacy, huh.” “Close enough. Would you kindly?” Rainbow nodded. “Alright, buddy,” she said, taking a step forward, her wings fluttering. She grabbed the chef by his collar. He let out an ‘eep’. “You’re gonna tell us what you know,” she said. “And you’re gonna do it now, before we get impatient.” “I don’t—” “You don’t want to make me impatient,” Rainbow said. “When I get impatient, I like to go flying. I’m a pegasus like that. And buddy, it’s a looooong way to the ground…” “Alright! Alright!” He threw up his hooves. “I lied, alright! I was the one who set up the boxes. I brought them on board! But I didn’t know what was inside. Some guy gave them to me, and the envelope, and told me what to do with them!” “When?” “Yesterday!” Rarity raised an eyebrow. “And you just went along with it?” The chef’s eyes wandered to the left. “He paid me.” “How much?” “Enough to get off this tin can and start a real restaurant.” He looked to the side. “I mean I like Mr. Pants and all, but not enough to refuse a good counter-offer.” “And you didn’t think that was suspicious?” Rainbow said. “Like you didn’t think that maybe you were agreeing to smuggle a bomb on board, or something?” “…No?” Rainbow’s hoof connected with her face. “This pony,” Rarity said. “What did they look like?” “He was a unicorn,” the chef said. “Kinda tall. He was wearing a coat, I couldn’t see his cutie mark.” “Anything else?” Rarity asked. “I dunno, he was kind of plain-looking?” “Doesn’t sound like anyone on board,” she murmured, then, to the chef: “It wasn’t any of the guests, I assume?” “No,” he said. “I’d never seen him before, and I haven’t seen him since.” Rarity sighed. “Ah, well, it wouldn’t be that easy, would it. You can put him down now, Rainbow; I believe we’re done here for the moment.” Almost reluctantly, Rainbow released her hold on the chef’s collar. He leaned up against the counter, rubbing his neck with a hoof. “You two are scary, you know that?” “We will choose to take that as a compliment!” Rarity declared, turning about with a swish of her tail and a flick of her mane. “Come along, Rainbow.” “Not very helpful,” Rainbow remarked as they exited the dining room. “Oh, I think there were a few important points in all that,” Rarity said. “For example, we now know that there’s no point wasting time trying to trace the path of the boxes onto the ship; we also now know that the blackmailer has at least one accomplice, and that they have at least a moderate amount of funds to spare.” “You don’t think that guy the chef talked to was the blackmailer?” Rainbow asked. Rarity shook her head. “No, I don’t believe so. Or if it was, then they were well-disguised. Otherwise, the chef would have recognized them at lunch.” “What?” Rainbow stopped. “You think the blackmailer is on board?” Rarity took a few more steps before she realized she was no longer being followed; she turned around, not an easy thing to do in the tight corridor, and tilted her head. “Hadn’t you concluded the same, darling?” “Obviously not!” Rainbow said. “Well,” Rarity said, smiling. “Allow me to explain my reasoning.” “The blackmailer threatened to release our secrets if we crossed them; specifically, if any of us left the ship before we arrived at our destination in Vanhoover,” she said. “Such a rule would require enforcement; they couldn’t know if, say, you were to go for a flight unless they were directly observing us.” “This presents us with three possibilities. One: the culprit, or someone working with the culprit, is on board with us. Two: The culprit, or someone working with the culprit, is watching the ship from the ground. Three: The culprit, or someone working with the culprit, is following us by air.  “Well, we can immediately eliminate two and three; given the speed this craft is traveling, it would be quite difficult for someone on the ground or in the air to keep up with us. It is unlikely they are following us by train, either, given the route we are taking. And any other airship that were following us would be spotted immediately. The only way I could see this working is if the culprits had an entire network of ponies on the ground stationed at intervals along our exact route, and frankly the logistics of such a thing would be both preposterous and frightening.” “Therefore,” Rarity concluded, “it is much more likely that they are observing us from aboard the ship itself.” “Huh,” Rainbow said. “Makes sense.” “Furthermore,” Rarity said, “It’s probably one of the other passengers.” Rainbow nodded. “Because if it wasn’t one of us, they wouldn’t have needed to use the chef.” “Precisely, darling!” “So,” Rainbow said, gears turning in her skull. “That means we have a list of suspects!” Rarity beamed. “Indeed! Really, it’s quite lucky for us that our blackmailer laid out his rules as he did; if he hadn’t, I wouldn’t know where to even begin. Now, we have a chance.” “Alright!” Rainbow pumped a foreleg. “Now we’ve just got to find them.” “And so we shall!” Rarity declared. “We must simply investigate the details of this case. Because the devil is in the details, darling, and in the details, we’ll find our de—.” She blinked. A hoof went to her mouth.  “Oh dear. I suppose I really do say that every time.” “Told you.” The rest of the afternoon was spent amongst the crew; Rarity wanted to know if anyone else on board had come in contact with their mysterious accomplice. Unfortunately, no one they asked had—or, at the very least, they weren’t telling. And so it was that it came time for dinner. They were the last two to arrive, it seemed, as they entered the dining room. They took their seats without remark, neither from them nor from those who were already assembled at the table. Plates of food had been put out, appetizers, but no one was availing themselves. A cloud hung over the table, and its name was silence. Fortunately, cloudbusting was Rainbow’s specialty. “So,” she said. “What was in you guys’ boxes?” Tact, on the other hoof, was not. The other guests bristled. “Perhaps, darling,” Rarity said after an awkward moment, “it would be best to leave that information private, for the time being.” She stood. “That being said, I have an announcement to make.” Banner Byline also stood up. “Actually, I also have s-something I’d like to s-say,” he stammered. “Do you mind going s-second, Miss Rarity?” “Oh, no,” Rarity said, sitting back down. “Please, go right ahead.” He nodded, then turned to face the rest of the table. “I have a p-p-proposal,” he said. “Let’s hear it,” Fancy replied. We all received a box—or, w-well, most of us did,” Banner began, casting a quick side glance at Rainbow Dash before resuming. “Myself included. It contained something incredibly private, and I imagine it’s the same for all of you, as well.” Several of the guests nodded. “However,” he continued, “what is inside my box—while quite serious—is not world-ending. I would survive its release, and though it would be difficult… I have a wife and child to support. I cannot afford to give up such a large percentage of my life’s savings.” He paused. “What I am trying to say,” he continued, following that moment of silence, “is that whatever is in our boxes cannot be worth having some… s-some madpony holding them over our heads.” “What are you suggesting, exactly?” Ruby Gleam asked, though the look in her eye suggested that she knew exactly where he was going with this, and that she did not like it. “I’m saying that we should all come clean,” Banner said. He was met with silence. “You think whoever is behind this w-will be satisfied with just one-hundred t-thousand bits?” he said. “And w-what will you do next month, when you receive another note in the mail asking for another hundred thousand? Or the month after that? There is no reason to assume that they are going to keep their w-word. They are a criminal!” He swallowed, under the heavy gazes of the other passengers. “But if we all come forward with our secrets—” “Oh yeah?” Mr. Morass said, standing up himself, his chair screeching across the floor. “Well, your secret may not be so bad, but mine certainly is!” “Nancy!” his wife hissed, though somewhat half-heartedly. She was ignored. “You want us to come clean? You don’t know the first thing about us!” he said. “Don’t forget, if any one of us comes forward, the rest of our secrets will be exposed, too! You can’t just drag us all down with you!” “T-that’s why it’s so important that we all come forward together,” Banner said. “If we do, we can save face and get ahead of the news, giving us the advantage!” “And who exactly do you suppose we’d be coming clean to?” Ruby Gleam asked. “The press? The police?” “Of course the police!” Banner said. “That way, they can help us catch whoever it is that’s trying to blackmail us! They’ll have no leverage if we all agree to do this together. They’ll be on the defensive! Don’t you agree?” It did not seem like Ruby Gleam agreed. Nor did it seem anyone else did, but she, most of all, had a foul look upon her face. Banner Byline looked from pony to pony, looking for anyone who might agree with him, desperate at this point. It was at this point that Fancy Pants stood up. “Ladies and gentlecolts,” Fancy said. “I may have another solution.” The atmosphere cooled immediately. Banner Byline sat back down, his time apparently up. “Let’s hear it, Fancy,” said Capital Idea. “It’s a simple proposal,” Fancy said. “It requires no form of payment to our would-be blackmailer. Nor does it require any of us to come forward with anything unsavory. All we have to do is one thing.” He looked at each guest’s face in turn. “If we can uncover the identity of our blackmailer,” Fancy said, “then there will be no need to pay, and no need to disclose our secrets to anyone. They can be dealt with—within the bounds of the law, of course—and none of us will ever have to think about this again. A most satisfactory turn of events for everyone, no?” “Sure,” Ruby Gleam said, with characteristic annoyance. “And how do you propose we do that, exactly?” The other guests seemed to fall in line behind her, nodding—she had that effect on people. Fortunately, so did Fancy. “It seems fate is smiling upon us,” Fancy said, “because the solution is aboard our ship, and in fact they are sitting right over there.” And with that, he gestured towards Rarity, who smiled. “Miss Rarity and Miss Rainbow Dash are detectives of some renown,” Fancy said. “You may have heard of some of their exploits.” “Mostly Rarity’s exploits,” Rainbow admitted. “I’m usually just along for the ride.” “Nonsense, darling,” Rarity objected. “You provide much-needed moral support! And also a much-needed extra set of hooves.” Recognition flashed in Ruby Gleam’s eyes. “You’re the ones the Duchess Clearglass was talking about!” Rarity nodded. “That would be us, yes.” “Oh,” Capital Idea said. “That explains the trenchcoat.” “I have personally taken the liberty of asking Miss Rarity to look into this matter,” Fancy said. “And as I have… first-hoof experience with her abilities, I have every confidence that she can deliver.” Murmurs, around the table. “How do we know she isn’t the blackmailer?”  The murmurs fell silent. “If she’s as good a detective as you say,” Banner Byline said, quietly, “then it would explain how the blackmailer was able to dig up all this information on all of us.” “A good question,” Fancy said. “I believe I can vouch for Miss Rarity’s character. Do you have anything to say for yourself, my dear?” “I’m afraid I cannot prove that I am not the blackmailer,” Rarity admitted. “But, as I see it—I’m the only hope you’ve got. And it’s not as though it would change anything, regardless. If I am the blackmailer, then I’ll do nothing to jeopardize my payout. You’ll still be getting off this ship two days from now, and you’ll still have this hanging over your heads. The outcome does not change.” “If I’m not, however,” Rarity continued with a smile, “then you have nothing to lose and everything to gain.” “She’s got you there, Banner,” Capital said. “Okay. I’m in favor. It beats going to the police.” “Hold on,” Mr. Morass said, sitting up in his seat with a scowl. “If you’re going to go poking about everywhere… what’s to stop you from sneaking a poke into one of our boxes, eh?” “I swear that, no matter what may happen, I will not look inside your boxes,” Rarity said. “I’ll stake my hat on it.” “I think we’re going to need a bit more than your hat,” Mr. Morass spat. “Well, if it would help you trust me,” she suggested, “I’m more than willing to show you the contents of my box.” That shut him up. Rarity set the thing down on the table with a wooden clunk. She lit her horn; the lid cracked open. They all craned their necks to look. Inside was what looked initially to be a bundle of fabric; as Rarity pulled it from its container, it became apparent that it was actually a scarf, a deep red in shade, which unwound across the table. Rainbow looked puzzled. So did everyone else. “When I was first beginning to expand my business outside of Ponyville,” Rarity explained, “I set my sights on getting one of my designs into the… into a notable fashion show that was to be held in Manehattan. “It was a very prestigious, and very strict, affair. You couldn’t apply for it; you had to be invited. Well, I’ve never been one to back away from a challenge, and so I set about creating a new line. My intent was to bring it to a certain… influential voice in the fashion scene. If I could sway him with my designs, getting into the show would be easy. I worked on them for weeks.” She held up the scarf. “This was part of my piece de resistance.” “Well, I got him to look at my designs. He quite liked them, actually. Said I had a lot of potential.” “But…?” “But he didn’t want to invite me to participate in the show. Not purely on the merits of my work, anyway.” She scoffed. “I mean, some country bumpkin nopony? Entered into the most prestigious fashion show this side of Canterlot? His credibility would be put on the line just by inviting me.” “But I was determined, and he was a capitalist. And so we… struck a deal. He’d get a cut of the money I made off the line, and I’d get into the show.” “You b-bribed your way into a fashion show,” Banner Byline said.  “I’d hate to put it that way, but yes. I’m not proud of it, but this sort of thing is unfortunately quite common in my industry, and indeed necessary if one is to succeed in it. Still, I’d hardly want it getting out; it could put a sizable dent in my career.” Rarity sat back into her seat. “There. Now you all know my secret. That puts me at a disadvantage. If I pry too far into any of your personal affairs, then all you have to do is leak it to the press. Of course, some amount of prying will be necessary—one of you is the blackmailer, after all.” “One of us!?” Fancy nodded. “I came to the same conclusion myself.” Rarity explained her reasoning, just as she had to Rainbow earlier. The guests looked none too pleased, but none could shoot a hole through her logic. “So it’s one of you,” Mr. Morass said at last, casting suspicious looks one way and the next. The only one he didn’t look to, in fact, was his wife, who looked similarly suspicious but was trying harder to hide it. “I should think you would be relieved at the news,” Rarity said. “And why is that?” Rarity smiled one of her special little smiles. “Because it means they can be caught.” “It also gives us a time limit,” she said. “Once this craft has touched down in Vanhoover and its passengers—we—have disembarked, our opportunity will have slipped away from us. However, it is getting late—I propose to continue the investigation tomorrow. We have plenty of time, after all, and there is nowhere for them to run.” “And to that end,” Fancy cut in, “I believe our dinner is here. Let us eat and be merry, everyone. We are in good hooves.” “Well, I’ll just, uh… be going, I guess. To my own cabin. Alone.” Rainbow bit her lip. They were in the hallway, just outside of Rarity’s cabin. Dinner had gone about as well as one could have expected it to have gone, and everyone was retiring to their own cabins for the night. Rarity smiled. “You know, it may be a bit silly of me, but I don’t much feel safe sleeping by myself tonight. And seeing as I have an extra bed, would there be any chance you would be willing to—” “Yes!” Rainbow blurted, before quickly recomposing herself. “I mean… yeah, sure, if you want.” The night passed peacefully enough for the two, and soon enough the porter was knocking on their door to announce breakfast. Rarity yawned. “Oh dear, I barely got a wink of sleep last night. What about you, Rainbow?” “Slept like a foal,” she replied. Whatever had been ailing her the night before, she seemed to have recovered somewhat. “I can’t have been the only one,” Rarity said. “I heard hoofsteps in the night. Quite late, too. The walls are dreadfully thin.” “Maybe you should tell that to Fancy. It’s his ship.” “Perhaps.” Rarity spent some time putting her makeup together, and then they made their way to the dining area. “Good morning, everyone,” Rarity said, as they entered. She was met with much of the same, albeit with much less enthusiasm. Croissants had been laid out on the table, among other such breakfast delights. Really, if the circumstances had been better, she could imagine them all having a very nice time on this airship. “Good morning, Miss Rarity,” Fancy Pants said, the only one in seemingly higher spirits. “Sleep well?” “Well enough,” Rarity replied. “Is everyone else here? I should like to get started on interviews shortly after breakfast.” At a quick headcount, she saw that they were not the last to arrive; someone else was missing. “No,” Fancy confirmed, “We’re missing Banner.” “He was in the cabin next to yours, wasn’t he?” Rarity asked. “Have you not seen him this morning?” “No, I can’t say that I have,” Fancy replied, frowning. “You don’t think something may have happened to him, do you?” “Perhaps it would be best to check in on him,” Rarity said. “I’ll come along, too. Rainbow?” She turned to her friend, who had two croissants stuffed into her mouth and a third in her hooves. “Hmph?” Rarity rolled her eyes. “We really must do something about your metabolism, darling. Come along.” The door to Banner’s room was shut when they arrived. “Banner?” Fancy called out, rapping on his nameplate. Then a little louder: “Banner?” No response. Frowning, Fancy tried the handle; the door slid smoothly open, like a curtain before a play, and upon that vile stage stood— Rarity’s heart sank. She sighed. “And there’s the murder.”  Banner Byline—what remained of Banner Byline—lay slumped over, back against the far wall of the cabin. His expression was one of surprise and panic, frozen onto his features. Blood stained the carpet beneath him, and splattered the wall behind him. A piece of paper sat atop his corpse. “Celestia…” Fancy breathed. Rarity stepped forward, over the bloodstains, and put her hoof to his neck. “He’s dead,” she said, after a moment. “And by the looks of things, he didn’t go of his own accord.” She turned to the Fancy Pants. “Someone on this ship has a secret worth killing for,” she said. “And I am going to find out who.”