//------------------------------// // Acquittal // Story: For Crimes Not Committed // by Scyphi //------------------------------// The ride was a quiet and sullen one, but also lengthy. There were no windows inside of the carriage this time, so there was no way to tell where they were heading. All Goldengrape and Greta could do was sit there and wait it out. A part of Goldengrape was grateful for the delay, as it gave time for the stunning spell to wear off, feeling gradually returning to his limbs again. Despite this, Greta kept him close, holding him almost protectively. He could quite easily sense her fear for their situation, naturally not helping with his own, but he understood why. Something about this felt very different from their arrest this morning, filling the carriage with this sense of deep dread. The officer riding with them didn’t even seem immune to it. He bore this dark attitude of resentment towards them, giving the impression he blamed them both for the situation, but at the same time seemed like he didn’t completely care for this turn of events either. This mixed with Shoofly’s hesitant attitude while confronting them at Greg’s office, like he’d been forced into it, gave the sense neither of them had chosen to do this but rather were ordered to. Which raised a question Goldengrape really wanted answered now—who had given those orders? Because he suspected that, whoever it was, they did not have their best interests in mind. He wished he could discuss it with Greta, since she seemed to be good at puzzling out things like this, but not only was the lingering effects of the stunning spell leaving his annunciation skills spotty, they couldn’t exactly discuss anything while an officer of the law sat right there in front of them. Finally, as the beginnings of twilight started to play with the horizon, the carriage came to a halt. “Right, we’re here,” the second officer announced, standing up. “Keep your limbs where I can see them.” Greta and Goldengrape begrudgingly obeyed. A moment later Shoofly arrived to open the carriage doors, letting them out. As Goldengrape was still a little unsteady on his hooves, Greta helped prop him up by letting him lean on her body as they exited the carriage. Outside, he expected to find some kind of detention center or police-related building, but instead they stepped out into the gravel drive for an inactive industrial factory located somewhere just outside of Canterlot. Both he and Greta stared at it in stunned confusion. “What are we doing here?” Greta demanded of the officers again keeping them at hornpoint. “Just…shut up and start walking,” the second officer replied. Both he and Shoofly looked like they wanted to be done with this already. Giving each other a worried look, Greta and Goldengrape reluctantly moved towards the factory. Inside it was filled with the expected machines though none were currently active. In fact, no workers appeared to be here at all. Instead, there was a small group of creatures standing near an open vat. A couple of them were ponies but the group mostly consisted of just griffons, all in civilian dress and not particularly of high class. They bore such a rough appearance in fact that Goldengrape wondered why the police were associating with them at all. When Greta and Goldengrape drew close, the group surrounded them, forced them to stand back-to-back, and then tied them together with rope. But Goldengrape was swiftly distracted from that when the group parted, revealing two more creatures who were dressed differently from he and Greta…but were otherwise their exact duplicates. They stared at the doubles to the concealed amusement of those around them. Greta’s beak even dropped. “…what,” she stated flatly. “Pretty good likenesses, aren’t they?” a new voice suddenly spoke up. They turned their heads in time to see a new creature approach. He was a middle-aged coppery red griffon, strutting up to them in a smugly confident manner that Goldengrape didn’t like. He also carried an aura like he was the one in charge. “Worked like a treat for our purposes. Nobody at all thought these two weren’t actually you.” Greta scowled at the griffon as he approached. “And who are you?” she demanded. “Do we know you?” “Never met in person, but I’m sure you’ve probably heard of me,” the griffon replied, more amused than anything by the questioning. He leaned closer to Greta. “Does the name…Rubedo…ring a bell?” The name meant nothing to Goldengrape, and he actually spent more time being amazed at the griffon not having a name starting with ‘G.’ Greta did, however, and physically pulled back in shock. “Rubedo?!” She exclaimed, “As in the Griffonstone mobster?!” Goldengrape gasped, whipping his head around at this news. They’d somehow gotten tangled up with a griffon MOB? The griffon, Rubedo, laughed at their reactions. “My reputation precedes me as usual,” he remarked as he started to pace in a circle around them. “Though honestly, I’m surprised that after all the running around you’ve put us through, you two hadn’t already figured that out yourselves.” “Still got farther than the police did,” Greta grumbled pointedly. “Yes, but we did have some help with that,” Rubedo said before glancing at the two police ponies awkwardly standing to one side. “Isn’t that right, officers?” Goldengrape twisted around to look at the officers sharply as he understood. “You’re working for him?” he asked them. Even though they hadn’t exactly been their allies already, it still felt like a betrayal. Both officers didn’t seem particularly eager about it either, averting their gazes from the two they’d effectively turned over to gangsters, but they didn’t deny it or back away either. “More like we just…struck a deal,” Rubedo explained as he walked between the two officers and wrapped his forehooves around their shoulders like they were old chums. “They help keep the Equestrian police off our tails, they get a cut of the profits we make in our sales.” “Sales?” Goldengrape repeated before again understanding in horror. “The shifting potions!” “You’re the one Greg bought his stock from in the first place!” Greta likewise deduced at the same time. Rubedo shot her a sly finger gun signifying she’d nailed it. “Speaking of shifting potions,” he said, turning his attention back to the officers. “I do believe you two have something else for me, correct?” Shoofly sheepishly took the case of sample potions from Greg’s office and handed it over to Rubedo. “As you requested, sir,” he murmured as he did so. Rubedo popped open the case long enough to confirm its contents. He raised an eyebrow at the two empty slots. “There’s a set of vials missing,” he noted aloud in a disapproving tone. “If I knew they were just going to end up in your grubby talons, I would’ve made sure they all went missing!” Greta shouted at him suddenly. Rubedo smiled again, understanding. “Ah, well, that explains that,” he said as he passed off the case to one of his minions, who exchanged it for a sack of bits that Rubedo then handed over to Shoofly. “And there you go, boys, your cut as promised plus a little extra to compensate for these…unusual circumstances.” He then waved them off. “Now go on and get back to whatever else you two do. We’ll take care of Miss Greta and Mister Goldengrape from here.” As they scurried off, tails tucked low from guilt, Rubedo turned and gave his two prisoners a look Goldengrape reflexively gulped at. “Now then,” Rubedo said once the officers were gone, walking back to the tied up prisoners. “I think we’ve kept you two waiting in suspense long enough, hmm?” He nodded to his lackeys who started to move them closer to the open vat nearby. “Now hold on here!” Greta objected as this happened. “If Greg was working for you on your little scheme, then why did you kill him?” “Greg wasn’t holding up his end of the deal,” Rubedo replied in a sweetly dark tone, walking alongside them as they were moved. “He promised we’d both gain a lot more profit and customers working through him and his particular methodology, but after several months and him only owing us more and more of the promised money he wasn’t making, well…” he clapped his paws together decisively. “…it was past time to let him go. Business, you understand?” “And you got your crooked cop friends to frame us for the so-called “pink slip” you gave him,” Greta grumbled as they neared the side of the vat. Goldengrape noted there was an ominous bubbling sound coming from within. “It was convenient,” Rubedo admitted. “As I’m sure you’ve already guessed, we knew you and Greg had something of a…falling out, Miss Greta, so you gave us excellent circumstances to exploit.” He motioned to Goldengrape. “The fact your stallion friend happened to be there with you when we moved to drug you was really just…an added bonus.” He nodded his head at their two duplicates snidely watching. “Then once you two were out for the rest of the night and set up in the hotel room, we had these two take your forms and do the actual dirty work of making it look like you’d murdered Greg as part of a drunken rage.” He then addressed said duplicates. “Speaking of, once we’re done there won’t be any need for those disguises anymore, so you might as well shift back now.” The two duplicates responded by pulling out vials of counterpotion and downing them. Less than a minute later, their forms had shifted back into male griffon and pony gangsters respectively. Goldengrape saw Greta scowl at the impersonators, but he kept his attention on their captor. “So what are you going to do with us?” he asked, fearing the answer. “Well, the plan was to just get you two locked up, taking the punishment for us,” Rubedo responded as he reached into a cooler left next to the vat, pulling out a sizeable fish. “But then you two had to make yourselves too much trouble for even that. So I think it’ll be better now if you just…disappeared.” Goldengrape felt his heart leap up his throat while Greta started struggling in the rope tying them together. “You won’t get away with this!” she hissed at their captors as they hauled them up onto a nearby scissor lift. “Oh, I think we will, Miss Greta, because do you know what this vat contains?” Rubedo rapped his talons against its metallic side. Now that they were on the scissor lift, Goldengrape could see over its edge. It was filled with a roiling and sizzling liquid that didn’t appear at all safe to be around. “It’s a very potent acidic byproduct from the manufacturing that happens here. They store it here until it can be reprocessed for safe disposal, but until then the chemicals in here are strong enough to…well, how about I just show you?” Rubedo reached over the side of the vat wall to stick the fish in his talons partway into the acid. There was a violent poof of steam accompanied by a loud hissing sound before Rubedo removed it and held it up by the tail for his prisoners to see. It had only been in it for scarcely more than a few seconds, but even in that short space of time the acid had cleanly stripped the exposed part of the fish on down to the bone, and there were even signs the bones were starting to be eaten away too. “Of course,” Rubedo conceded as he chucked the half-dissolved fish away, “you two will find this out for yourselves in just a moment.” Goldengrape and Greta stared at him in horror before being jolted out of their shock as one of the gangsters, operating the scissor lift controls, started to raise it up towards the factory ceiling overhanging the vat. Looking upwards, Goldengrape saw a motorized hook and pulley dangling there and understood what they planned to do—use the hook to lower them both into the vat of acid where they would be… Goldengrape stared down in chilled horror at the disturbing fate awaiting them. As the scissor lift halted at its maximum height and the gangsters riding up with them proceeded to attach their bindings to the big metal hook, he looked to Greta in hopes she would once again have an idea to get them out of this. But this time Greta looked down at the vat in fear, starting to tear up. “I’m sorry, Grapes,” she murmured sadly. “You were right. We should’ve just stayed in that stupid carriage. But I just couldn’t accept that and now I’ve doomed us both.” Goldengrape gaped at her, not sure what sacred him more, their impending bath in caustic chemicals or Greta breaking down like this. “Greta, you couldn’t have known,” he said. “And I went along with it, so it’s not like I didn’t play a role too. Besides, if we were always going to go out then I’d rather go out fighting than to have never fought at all.” “I was trying to make sure we got out of this alive though!” Greta insisted. “That you got out of this alive! Sweet Grover, Grapes, you deserve this even less than I do! You shouldn’t have even been involved.” “Maybe,” Goldengrape looked down at the vat they would soon be heading towards, then back at Greta, looking her in the eye. “But then I wouldn’t have met you.” Upon seeing Greta’s surprise at that confession, he pressed on. “And even though it’s not ending how we hoped…for me…I’m still glad we got that chance.” Greta continued to stare at him for a moment before making a thankful grin. “Me too, Grapes,” she admitted, “Me too.” “Oh, just kiss already and get it over with,” one of the gangsters grumbled at that point. Goldengrape twisted around so to give the culprit a glare then turned back in time for Greta to lean down and nuzzle his cheek lovingly with her beak. Touched and closing his eyes, he leaned into the nuzzling before planting a small kiss on the keratin beak—if this was really the end for them both, then he might as well go for broke. They barely had the chance to savor the moment before the gangsters startled them by giving them, now secured to the hook, a shove off the side of the scissor lift. They were briefly left dangling there high above everything else while the scissor lift went back down to the floor without them. Then without warning, Rubedo, standing at the controls for the pulley motor, threw a lever and slowly they started lowering down towards the roiling acid below. Well, this is it, Goldengrape thought, trying to brace himself while watching the acid steadily grow closer and closer, I guess this is the end. He thought to himself he’d better make what peace he could before the time he had left ran out, but the only thing he could think of at that moment was to pray neither of them screamed when entering the acid. Partly because going out screaming in agony didn’t seem very flattering to him, but also partly because, even if it’d be brief, he didn’t think he could stand to hear Greta similarly screaming. But then, while still only halfway down towards the vat, all Tartarus broke loose. It seemed all of the entrances to the factory burst open simultaneously and a flood of new creatures stormed in, loudly ordering for everybody to stop what they were doing and to get down on the ground. Instead of obeying, Rubedo and his followers all about faced and proceeded to retaliate with whatever weapons they had within reach. A firefight swiftly ensued in which weapons and magic spells were thrown chaotically every which way and the entire factory was filled with so much noise, it was hard to tell what was going on for a moment. But, caught off guard as they were, the gangsters were being subdued quickly by the more numerous intruders, the tide turning against them. It was then Greta realized who had come to crash the party. “It’s the police!” she exclaimed, voice rapidly filling with hope. “Real police!” And since they were clearly not on the same side as Rubedo’s group, they both started shouting as loud and urgently as they could for help and for somebody to stop their continuing descent towards the acid-filled vat. Unfortunately, Rubedo himself was guarding the needed controls and he wasn’t giving them up without a fight. As Goldengrape and Greta passed ten feet away from the acid and continued getting closer, enough that Goldengrape started to fear once again it was too late and their end near, Rubedo finally took a stunning spell to the face and dropped to the ground. At only five feet away, one of the police officers raced for the controls Rubedo had vacated. At that point, Goldengrape couldn’t bear to watch, the acid so close now he could feel against him the little puffs of steam the burbling fluid was constantly releasing. He instead closed his eyes and curled up against himself, trying to buy himself as much time before coming in contact with it. He felt Greta do the same, her tail brushing against him as she tried to keep it up and away from the now dangerously close acid. A shrill noise was filling his ears and he realized it was coming from the both of them, their urgent shouts for help having devolved into just a panicked screaming. But then at what must have been only a couple of feet remaining before they were forced into the acid, the hook lowering them jerked to a halt. Goldengrape’s breath hitched for a prolonged moment as he waited to know whether they would live or suffer a horrific death. Then, with relief flooding his body, the hook started to rise back up and away from the acid. Clear of the vat again, Goldengrape surveyed the now quieting factory and saw Rubedo and all of his lackeys had been subdued and now in the process of being arrested by police ponies while the remainder worked to rescue them. He went limp against Greta behind him as the tension drained out of him. “That was entirely too close,” he admitted. “For a second there I really thought we were done for.” “So did I,” Greta agreed, her breathing heavy as she worked to calm herself. She took in a deep breath. “Speaking of…Grapes, about earlier on the scissor lift…” “…it was simply a spur of the moment attempt for a hasty closure at what were thought to be our final moments,” Goldengrape finished for her. He turned his head enough to give her a grin. “We don’t need to read into it any more than that.” “Good,” Greta said with a nod, glad they’d settled that. They were quiet for a second while riding the hook back up towards the factory ceiling. “The kiss was a nice touch though,” Greta then commented abruptly. “Really? I thought it might’ve been cliché.” “Eh, cliché is cliché for a reason—it’s still effective in the right moments.” “Though Rubedo’s creatures did see us do it, so it probably started some rumors.” Now Greta was grinning. “Eh, let them rumor.” Once the police eventually got them off the hook, out of their bindings, and safely back on solid ground away from the vat of acid, they were met with Detective Swift Case, who proceeded to explain to them the reason for this abrupt but timely rescue. “We caught up with Officer Shoofly and Officer Blue Bull not long after they left the factory,” he explained while the rest of the police finished arresting and escorting out Rubedo and company. “See, we were already suspecting we might have some crooked cops in our ranks with the trail pointing towards those two, so we were trying to keep a close eye on them to be sure. Once we had them though, they quickly surrendered and confessed so we then came straight here.” “And not a moment too soon, detective,” Goldengrape agreed, his heart still thumping hard within his chest after the close brush with death. “So we don’t still need to convince you we’re innocent then,” Greta recapped, getting right to the point. Swift Case shook his head. “Truthfully, I was suspicious of the charges against you two from the start,” he confessed. Greta huffed at that. “Well, you could’ve fooled me! You seemed to be completely convinced we were guilty.” “Apologies, but I was trying to not let on that anyone suspected something was amiss, so we could try and uncover our real culprits,” Swift Case explained. “And you didn’t tell us any of this, because…?” Goldengrape asked. “Plausible deniability, mostly,” Swift Case replied. “Though had you arrived at the prison, I probably would’ve taken the time to fill you both in on the basics then. But instead, you both made a break for it.” “Well, one of you left the carriage doors unlocked,” Greta pointed out. “So it was kind of all too easy to do so.” “Of course,” Swift Case agreed and smirked. “Who do you think left them unlocked?” They gaped at him. “Were you hoping we’d try to escape?” Goldengrape asked. “I figured that if you did, you’d probably do so to try and prove your own innocence,” Swift Case said. “And in so doing, ultimately lead us right to the real culprits, since they probably weren’t going to just stand to one side and let you get away like that when you were meant to take the fall.” Greta’s face then suddenly screwed up with suspicion. “Wait…are you saying that we nearly died just now because you were using us as bait?” Swift Case’s face suddenly became one of a pony who only just now realized what that sounded like. “…maybe?” Goldengrape was glad griffons had long tails, because it proved to be a great thing to grab ahold of when keeping Greta from charging at the detective. “It’s not worth it, Greta!” “It’d make me FEEL better though!” Overlooking Greta’s failed attempt to assault a police detective, they were exonerated of all charges in the end. At one point they were nearly had to pay for the lost cuffs and prison outfits they had gotten rid of while on the run, but thankfully more forgiving minds prevailed. They were even able to return the duffle coats they had “borrowed” from the ranger station. But by the time it was all over, it was getting late and Goldengrape and Greta were hungry, tired, and ready to call it a day. Once allowed to leave the police’s custody at last, they stopped at a carrot dog cart for a quick meal before bidding each other a melancholy farewell at the carriage bus stop and parted ways, Goldengrape returning to his apartment and Greta back to her hotel room. Greta was supposed to leave with the rest of her group that evening, and since she was running late, she had to try and catch up with them or be forced to stay another night at her own cost. So she apologetically confessed that, as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t stay and chat for longer. Goldengrape, however, had nowhere else to be, so once back at his humble apartment, thankfully still as he’d left it before this all happened, he took a shower to wash off the accumulated filth of the adventure before crawling into bed. The next day he returned to the diner to see whether or not he still had a job, or if he’d been fired for missing his whole shift yesterday without warning or explanation. However, it turned out his boss had not only heard about the police arresting him through Canterlot’s grapevines, he’d also been informed Goldengrape had been framed. So not only did his boss very kindly allow him a pass, given circumstances frankly beyond their control, he also told Goldengrape he was free to take another day off so to recover from any lingering trauma. But Goldengrape honestly just wanted to get back to his usual routine and resumed work that same day anyway. About a week then passed with nothing out of the ordinary happening and his life going back to normal. He didn’t see Greta again during the whole of that week. Which he supposed wasn’t so surprising, considering she clearly had her own affairs to get back to as well as her not being a local. He simply assumed she went back to her own life in Griffonstone and…that was that. There wasn’t anything wrong with that, or any reason he knew of to expect her to do anything different. Yet he still found himself missing her teasing and snide wit, and it made Goldegrape realize that, outside of coworkers and the occasional visiting friend or family, he hadn’t really been associating much with anyone since moving to Canterlot until this misadventure with Greta. Now he was realizing that perhaps he needed that more in his life than he’d been appreciating. So by the end of that week, he resolved to start looking into changing that the next chance he could. But not for the first time, it ended up Greta was one step ahead of him. He hadn’t heard her come into the diner at all, having been busy making smoothies for other customers most of that particular evening. Which of course she exploited to her advantage, apparently sneaking up and taking a seat at the sit-down counter near where he worked while his back was turned. Then she just sat there, head leaning on one paw and quietly waiting for him to turn around and notice her. “Any chance you can send one of those smoothies my way, Grapes?” she asked casually when he finally did notice her there. “Greta!” Goldengrapes declared with a small but not unwelcome jump while taking her in. She looked the same as when he’d last seen her, only now she was again wearing a scarf like the one she wore the night they met. He then grinned. “Well then, one smoothie coming up for you too then.” He busied himself with making it then lingered nearby after delivering it to her. “So when did you get back into town?” “You assume I ever left,” Greta replied, looking up with her smoothie with a smirk. She paused to take a long slurp before continuing. Goldengrape suspected she was deliberately trying to leave him in suspense. “With Greg gone, management of his investing business has fallen to one of his coworkers, and the poor mare is swamped untangling that Gordian knot. Doesn’t help that she now has to rework all of Greg’s various deals to fall under her name now, and many of Greg’s clientele are using the chance to…renegotiate…terms, particularly now that word’s getting out about Greg’s ties with Rubedo.” She stopped to take another slurp from her smoothie. “Anyway, that includes the business the Griffonstone boffyball team was doing through Greg, and since I’m the team accountant, I’ve had to stick around town a little longer so to make sure that gets all sorted out as we want it.” “And it’s taken more than a week to do it?” Goldengrape remarked in surprise. Greta made a curt laugh at that. “When I likened it to untangling a Gordian knot, I wasn’t exaggerating, Grapes,” she assured. “It’s honestly looking like it could take another week on top of that before it’s all squared away. But I’m honestly okay with it, because it’s sort of like a prolonged business trip for me. Whenever I’m not working on that, I’ve been mostly free to use my time as I like here in Canterlot.” “Been seeing the sights, then?” Goldengrape asked as he decided to be productive while talking with her and proceeded to polish glasses waiting for their next use for smoothies. “Basically,” Greta relented. “But, you know, the rest of the team went back to Griffonstone days ago, so I haven’t really had anyone to hang with. Since I knew you worked here though, I figured I’d swing by, see how you were doing.” “I’m doing good,” Goldengrape replied with a grin, heartened by her asking. “It’s honestly been business as usual since we were exonerated, so it’s been a bit nice to get back to the routine again.” He then snorted to himself and lowered his gaze a little. “But I was actually thinking that maybe I should still shake it up now and then, so…your timing’s pretty good.” Greta grinned at that. “You know, I was actually hoping you’d say something like that,” she said. She again paused to slurp from her smoothie, having mostly drained it by now. “Is it quitting time for you yet?” “It will be fairly soon,” Goldengrape asked, glancing at the clock, “About another twenty or so minutes.” He shrugged to himself. “Not that I’m in a hurry. I don’t really have anything else planned for tonight.” Greta nodded sagely to herself and went silent for a moment while finishing her smoothie. Once she had, she pushed the cup aside and leaned closer. “You wanna go see a movie?” Goldengrape glanced at her questioningly. Greta raised her eyebrows knowingly at him, signaling she understood full well the significance of what she was asking. So he opted to skip over acknowledging it. “Did you have one in mind?” “There’s one showing at the local theater that’s kinda caught my eye. It’s about two ponies who have to go on the run while hoofcuffed together.” She shrugged to herself. “Thought it might be fun to see if it’s at all accurate to the real thing.” Goldengrape only needed a moment to consider it. “Sounds like a hoot. Let’s do it.”