“Steel!” Citrine jumped to her hooves and lifted a limb to flag me down. I dodged ponies and desks as I made my way through the barely controlled chaos of the squad room. “How’s Miss Chapeau?” Her hoof pawed nervously at the floor.
I held up a leg. “She’s fine. Don’t worry. They gave her a complete physical. Other than being a little dehydrated, she’s uninjured.” She blew out a breath, looking very relieved. I snickered and Citrine’s brow furrowed. “Oh, sorry, I was just thinking about being at the hospital. We were stuck there for three hours, as they put it, ‘for observation’.” I shook my head. “The first hour was kind of rough. She was very quiet, and repeatedly got off the bed to look at her missing mane in a small mirror. She was still in shock.” Citrine gestured at the chair in front of her desk and we both sat down. “But then she started to get better. By the second hour, she was complaining to anypony who would listen about how long it had been.” I grinned. “As hour three drew near, she informed the doctor that she was leaving, and if they had any paperwork, they had best get it to her before she got to the front door.” I snorted once. “We were out of there within ten minutes. I then escorted her home.”
Citrine smiled. “I can just imagine her saying that.” Her smile faded. “Were the guards in place?”
I nodded. “Yes, two officers, outside her home. I don’t believe she considers them necessary, but she thanked them as we passed by. Do you really think there’s any risk?”
She shook her head. “No, but until this case is completely resolved, it’s standard procedure. Plus, given what she’s been through, it’s justified. If only to give her some peace of mind.”
“Yeah, that’s a good point..” I leaned back in the chair to get more comfortable. It had been a long day. “Once we got inside her place, Miss Chapeau’s housekeeper took one look at her and ran off to draw a bath. A hot soak and a good night’s sleep will help a lot.” I paused for a moment. “So, where do things stand here?”
Citrine shuffled some papers on her desk. “The unicorn foalnapper isn’t saying a word. On the other hand, his earth pony accomplice won’t shut up. He’s scared to death of spending the rest of his life in prison and is giving us information about crimes and activities we didn’t even ask about.” Her eyes scanned a list from one of the pages.
“Well that sounds great, but what about the Chapeau case?”
She flipped open a file. “Lots of info about the planning and the timeline. You can look it over later. The big item is that he told us who they were working for: Mr Twillery.”
I tilted my head and blinked a couple times. “But that’s…”
“Yup,” she nodded. “That’s the plant manager for Miss Chapeau’s textile factory.”
I sat up straight. “Have you arrested him yet?”
From behind me I heard Nightly’s voice, “Arrested, processed, and interrogated. But much like the unicorn, he ain’t talkin’”. He stepped around the chair and stood beside me.
“Hey, Nightly.” I raised a hoof.
“Steel.” He bumped it. “So it’s looking like we may have this case wrapped up, even if we can’t get an actual confession out of him.”
My eyes glazed over as I looked down at Citrine’s desk. She leaned forward. “Steel, what is it?”
My eyes popped up and I focused on her. “I’m not so sure we’re done.”
Nightly moved to his adjacent desk and sat down. “Did we miss something?”
“When I was reviewing the personnel files, I read about Twillery. These were Miss Chapeau’s personal notes. She said he was adequate to run the factory because he was an implementer. Tell him to have a thousand bolts of denim produced by a given date, and he’d get it done. But ask him where the mill should be in five or ten years, and he would have no idea. He’s very capable at taking someone else’s plan and galloping with it, but he’s not a visionary or a planner himself.”
Citrine tapped her chin with a hoof. “So, you think he was implementing someone else’s plan? Meaning he’s not the ringleader of this little herd?”
I nodded, “It would make sense. I think there’s at least one more pony higher up the chain.”
Nightly snorted softly. “Okay then, we keep looking.” He glanced at me. “So… what’s next??”
I shook my head. “I’m not sure…” I paused. “But I may have an idea.”
The door was open, so I knocked twice on the doorframe and walked into Miss Jade’s third-floor office. Citrine and Nightly hung back. Miss Jade jumped to her hooves with a slight stumble. “How did the exchange go? Is Miss Chapeau okay?”
I raised a calming hoof. “She’s fine. The ransom exchange went off without a hitch, and she’s safely at home after a quick check at the hospital.”
She sat down and she blew out a breath. “Oh, that’s a relief. I was so worried.”
I remained standing, despite an available chair. “And you will be relieved to know we’ve recovered the entire ransom.”
Her eyes got a little wider. “Oh… you did? That’s good to hear.”
I pointed back at the detectives. “It’s safe at the precinct. I’m told they’ll make arrangements in the next day or two to return it to the issuing bank, so it can all be deposited back into Miss Chapeau’s accounts.”
She looked down at a calendar on her desk. “Yes, good… I’ll need to be there to make sure everything is in order.”
“And more good news: we captured the foalnappers, too.”
Her head snapped up to look at me. “That’s fantastic.” And after a brief pause, “So I guess the case is solved?”
I casually rested a hoof on the back of the chair before me. “You might think so, but no, not yet. Turns out the threat of a long prison sentence has made them very talkative. It didn’t take them too long to give us the name of their boss.”
“Really?” Her head tilted. “And who was it?”
“This may be a bit of a shock,” I locked eyes with her, “but it turned out to be Mr Twillery.”
A hoof shot to her mouth. “No, It couldn’t be. He’s been the plant manager since Miss Chapeau’s dad owned it.” She looked down at her desk shaking her head. “I can’t believe it. Why would he do such a thing?”
“I can assure you, it’s true.” I casually picked up a copy of the Canterlot paper setting on the near edge of her desk. “It’s curious though…” I idly perused the headline for a moment. “The detectives found a good stack of past newspapers in his house, going back well before the last two threatening notes that were sent to Miss Chapeau. But they didn’t find any issues with the letters cut out to make the notes.”
“Well, he'd have to be pretty dense to keep those issues for somepony to find.”
“True, true.” I set the paper down again. “But there weren’t any issues missing. It would be strange to buy two copies of a given day’s paper, just so there’d be no gap in the recycle pile. Why not just get rid of all of them?”
She reached across the desk, picked up the newspaper, folded it in half, and dropped it in a trash can. “Perhaps he created the notes someplace else, where he was careful about getting rid of any evidence.”
I put a hoof on my chin and pursed my lips thoughtfully. “Yeah, you’re probably right. That makes sense.” I paused for a moment then added, “Did you know he has a record from back in his days at college?”
She gasped softly. “No. Really?”
“Nothing major. He stole some stuff from a shop where he worked part time. Like this abduction, it was an inside job. The cops knew he had two partners, but he refused to name names and they were never caught. Since the items and bits were recovered, he was released on probation with the condition he finish college.”
She nodded. “That seems fair, almost lenient.”
“I guess they figured getting him educated so he could get a good job was better than punishment. And it seemed to work, based on his position at the textile mill. I wonder what, or who, could have convinced him to give all that up for something so risky…”
She slowly shook her head. “Who can say what might turn a stallion back to his old ways.”
I nodded. “It’s one more item on the list of unanswered questions…”
Her face brightened. “Then it sounds like the case is solved? Good work Mr Steel.” She looked past me towards the door. “And you too, detectives.” They both nodded in response. The silence hung in the office like a heavy mist in a bog. “Was there… something else, Mr Steel?”
“No, I suppose that’s it.” I turned to my left and began a slow circumnavigation of the room. Directly in front of me was a bookcase with glass doors. A key was inserted in the lock between the doors. The shelves were filled with ledgers, each with a year printed on the spine. “Although…” I paused as I scanned the years. “There’s something that bothers me...”
“Yes…?” Her voice was strained. She was irritated.
My slow pace took me past a display case filled with fancy hats, each of which had one or more ribbons from some fashion competition. Most of the ribbons were blue. “It’s just that… I wonder how Mr Twillery knew how much ransom to ask for. We know he didn’t have access to any of the business accounts. And the account ledgers are stored here.” I gestured back to the bookcase. “Yet he asked for exactly what you were able to pull together by draining all the accounts you could withdraw from.”
“Well… he and Miss Chapeau had regular meetings. Perhaps it came up in a discussion about the funds available to purchase supplies. There are a number of significant contracts coming up that need to be prepared for.”
I walked past Citrine and Nightly as I moved to the other side of the room where another bookcase stood loaded with a variety of pictures, nick-nacks, and other dust collectors. “Yes. You’re right. I’m sure it was something like that.” My eyes lingered on one particular photo as my slow pace brought me back to her desk. I lifted my head and our eyes met. “Just one more thing.”
She let out a small sigh. “Yes, what is it now?”
“Well… ponies with something to hide are often tripped up by the silliest little thing. Something everypony else misses because it doesn’t seem noteworthy. A little crumb of a clue easily swept away during the chaos of an investigation. It takes years of experience to recognize that crumb for the clue that it is.”
She stood up. “I’m sure this is all very interesting to you, but I’m afraid I have actual work to get done in Miss Chapeau’s absence.” She walked around the side of her desk. “So, if you would excuse me…”
I continued as if I hadn’t even heard her. “A clue like that can break a case. Take that photo on the bookshelf back there. Three smiling ponies posing in front of what looks like a college dorm. That’s you in the center. You really haven’t changed much over the years.” She had frozen mid-step with a front leg held up just a bit. “To your right is Mr Twillery, looking a good bit younger.” Her hoof slowly lowered back to the floor. “And to your left, well… that’s the unicorn from the pair that abducted Miss Chapeau.” Her pupils dilated. “So you’ve known them both since college. He had two partners. His partners then, and now, are in that photo, right?” She stood motionless, staring at me. “It might be more correct to say that, as the leader of the gang, they are your lackeys?”
There was a brief moment of silence, and then she bolted for the side door to her office. I guess that’s a yes. Her magic flung it open, only to almost collide with Nightly standing in the way. I hadn’t even noticed he’d left the room. She backpedaled until her rump smacked into her desk. The impact knocked a few items over. Eyes wide, she glanced at me, back to Nightly, and then looked at the open window behind her desk.
I took a step forward. “I wouldn’t suggest that. We’re three stories up. If the fall doesn’t outright kill you, you’ll break most of your legs. You’ll spend the next few months in traction, at least for those legs you don’t lose because of the injuries. And you still won’t escape.”
She continued to look at the window for a few moments, and then in rapid succession dropped her ears, head, and rump. She had given up. It was for the best. Nightly pulled out a set of hoofcuffs and walked forwards.
I turned and headed for the door. As I passed by Citrine I asked, “Why do they always try to run?”