//------------------------------// // Chapter 16: Dismissals // Story: Sherclop Pones and the Adventure of Pinkie's Cupcakes // by A Sherlockian Brony //------------------------------// Sherclop Pones paused as he wiped his brow, while I stared at him with amazement. But I had remembered something— “But, it’s all too convincing! I myself had even succumbed to this pack of lies!” said I. “How could how could you possibly see through such a deception?” “I had already begun from the start to question whether or not the events that depicted in the narrative to ever have occurred due to one simple factor—the lack of fuss. Fuss in which is sure to be made, that is, if Rainbow Dash had ever disappeared. “Consider the fact, Watcolt, that such an important societal figure such as Rainbow Dash, who had gained some fame partly from her contributions to the Monarchy and representing the Element of Loyalty, would go missing; be reported to the police; and yet no a single fuss resonates from it? “Where are the big headlines in the paper? They are sure to be made for just as soon Cloudsdale Yard is involved in the matter, gossip would soon come out, which would consequently lead that gossip to reach the printing press’ ears. Thus, major headlines depicting the disappearance. And yet, as you may remember, nothing of the sort happened. Instead, what had been shown was the announcement of the royal wedding of Captain Shining Armor. “Then there was too the absence of raging advertisements in the agony column—they are too sure to be made, for Ms. Dash’s friends, according to the 'narrative', have already been inquiring for her whereabouts—creating posters and consulting the police. If they have already done this, they are bound to advertise in the agony column, in which, as I have remarked, not a single advertisement that depicts a disappearance had been made. Instead, the entire section consisted of bridesmaids asking for advice.” My mind had casted back to the bundles of newspapers in which Pones had wished me to direct my attention to just the previous day back in Baker Street—where I read the headlines and advertisements. “Oh, that was it, was it?” said I. “What did you infer from this, then?” “That the case presented to us, and everything in it, however suggestive and convincing, is nothing but a mere fabrication. And addition to this, when Ms. Hooves had presented to us the so-called advertisement of Rainbow Dash—instead of eliminating any doubt the case’s authenticity, it had further increased it. The poster, as you may remember my examining it, was forged!” He then produced from his saddlebag a paper-like object and presented it to me. “Note that the picture is merely pasted onto the paper and not printed on it; the material to serve as the printing medium is not of the typical medium in which advertisements are manufactured in—this all spoke of forgery. She wished to convince me that the case was authentic by presenting an advertisement. Which, consequently, further supports my inclination that the case is false—” “As well as the fact that Ms. Hooves had to recite her so-called ‘experience’ from a piece of foolscap for it never happened!” Pones smiled. “But this just a suspicion.” said he. “Therefore, in order to confirm my surmises whether to deem it correct or otherwise, I must set an inquiry at the Ponyville branch of Cloudsdale Yard.” I had suddenly recalled something. “What a blind bat I have been!” I cried, staring at Pones. “The telegram you had sent to Trotkins—that was its object?” “Indeed; and do you remember the reply? No? Well, allow me to recite it to you—” Pones then shoved a hoof into his pocket and produced a crumbled piece of paper. “‘No, sir, I have not,’” said he, reading from it. “‘nor has anyone station in this particular branch in that matter. On the contrary, not a single constable or inspector had been conscious of any form of criminal activity for the entire month!’ “This, then, Watcolt, completely dismisses any remaining doubt that the case is authentic for this—a solid and absolute fact, further supported by my surmises, greatly contradicts everything stated in Ms. Hooves’ narrative, where we only have her word for it ever happening. It contradicts her statement that the police have been consulted upon a disappearance (Rainbow Dash’s) while my factful inquiry proves otherwise. Therefore, the case and everything in it—the disappearance, the potential murder is nothing but a great fabrication.” “A lie!” I cried with vehemence. “It is all a great big, thumping, obtrusive, uncompromising lie—from the start to finish! She never said a single ounce of truth to her story!” "Which, as you may remember noting, is further supported by the fact of the overall peacefulness in Ponyville once we had alighted the train, for if Ms. Dash were indeed be missing, the citizens would buzz about like an overturned beehive: setting out inquiries upon those that merely cross their paths—and yet, they do not.” “Excellent!” said I. “But, even with this knowledge, why did you still agree to take it?” “For I wanted to know the object of this elaborate deceit—why had she done this? Why the lie? Is it a practical joke, for, as you know, there are some ponies out there who have nothing better do in their lives but to joke around with the law—or individuals such as I who represent it—with their cases. That, was at the least of my worries, for amidst of this farce, there is sometimes an element of the criminal hidden within it. I feared, Watcolt, that there was something criminal about this lie, that may be more than just a joke. Though, it could still be one, I had no way to ascertain it but agree to take upon the case and learn for myself.” “But why hadn’t you simply said that you knew the client was lying? That surely is much simpler task and less—exhausting…” “For if I were to do as I say—in the occasion that there is indeed something criminal, Ms. Hooves would snap shut like an oyster and never reveal her devious secrets. Therefore, I had no choice but to agree to take it, and gather the facts myself to form an opinion upon the matter.”