Patches watched Bill fumble around the forest, searching for the baseball. It wasn't very interesting, but still the only thing worth watching.
Bill was circling around Patches, his path spiraling outward from where his stationary partner stood.
"Found anything yet, Bill?", Patches asked when Bill had cleared a radius of about twenty feet.
"Nothing yet, sir."
Bill didn't usually call him "sir".
"How about now?"
"Not a thing, sir."
"How about now?"
Bill shouted, "We ain't found shit!", as though he were impersonating a sassy black man.
"And what movie are you quoting this time, Bill?"
"Spaceballs"
"So many nutcases with guns in Texas, and you never got shot for saying something weird."
"Patches! I found the ball! I found the ball!"
Bill arose from the shrubs, triumphantly holding the baseball above his head.
"Pass it here, Bill."
Bill tossed it to Patches with an underhand throw. It fell short, and Patches had to move to it and pick it up off the ground. This he did while showing contempt for his partner's poor throwing ability.
Patches closely examined it, and was crestfallen to see Bobby Orr's signature smudged. It was blurred by a black blot that emitted a foul odour.
Patches' eyes widened. He held his hand up to signal Bill.
"Bill, don't move!", he ordered.
"Okay"
Patches quickly moved to where Bill was, and started to tear at the undergrowth to get a clear look at the forest floor. It was well hidden, but at last he saw it: A brownish, conical object poking out of the dirt, at first glance it might have looked like the canine of some vicious animal.
Patches moved away the loosely packed dirt, exposing the object to be a cone about four inches long. It had a strap attached to the base.
Bill dug at another patch of loose dirt right next to the cone, and uncovered a small brown bag made out of burlap or gunny or hemp or something similar. It too had a strap. It wasn't empty.
They lifted their respective finds, and discovered the two objects to be connected by a tube.
"Bill, give me that bag"
Patches took the bag under his left arm, and with his right hand pointed the cone at a sapling. He squeezed the bag, and a grey liquid came oozing out of the tip of the cone. The sapling was covered in the stuff, and it quickly wilted away as the chemical smouldered and turned black.
Patches was very upset. This was maybe the fifth time the baseball trick had led them to an important clue. He couldn't explain it, and it didn't help his self-confidence to know he'd solved the mystery by random chance. He quickly scoured the ground near where they'd found the device, and found the unmistakeable mark of a horseshoe on the ground. He reached up, grabbed Bill by the shirt, and shoved his face to the prints.
"Bill, if anyone asks, we followed these footprints to the murder weapon."
The two men stood up.
"Who's going to ask?"
They were interrupted by a loud bang and a purple flash.
Twilight Sparkle found Patches and Bill locked in a tight embrace, utter shock on both of their faces. They released each other upon recognizing her.
"Gentlemen, I am sorry for losing my temper with you. I want you to know that I am willing to assist in the investigation in any way possible."
Both men looked at her angrily.
"First way to help us it to not give us heart attacks. Don't ever do that again"
Already Twilight began to feel her new cause was lost. Nevertheless, she soldiered on.
"Any progress?"
"As a matter of fact, yes. We found the murder weapon."
Patches stooped to pick up the device he'd dropped, and showed it to Twilight.
"Now can you tell me what it is?"
Twilight examined the bag and cone. She used her magic to levitate them closer to her. Patches and Bill were both mesmerized by the aura around Twilight's horn as she did this.
The cone in particular looked familiar. It was sharp and had grooves that looked like it had been feathered. She couldn't quite place it.
Patches glanced from Twilight's horn to the cone, and made the connection.
"Wait, I figured it out. It's one of these."
Patches touched his finger to the tip of Twilight's horn.
Twilight too made the connection, and almost panicked at the realization. But she gave the cone another look, and saw that the horn was not smooth or organic. It was fake.
Twilight and Patches had drawn the same conclusion about the device, but Patches beat her to articulating it.
"This is intended to be worn by a pony. The bag was meant to be strapped to the pony's chest like so..."
Patches threw the bag under Twilight, grabbed the straps, and secured it around her midsection so quickly she didn't have time to protest.
"I believe it was attached to the underside, so it wouldn't be so conspicuous. A cape would easily conceal it. Such a disguise would not be unusual at a party, am I right?"
"Don't ever do that again!"
"Do what?"
"Put something on me without asking!"
"Okay, I get it. No promises. So. The killer wore the horn as a disguise, approached the victim, and stabbed her neck with a relatively simple nodding motion. This horn doesn't fit a pony that already has one. I noticed some ponies here do not have horns. The killer doesn't have a horn, modus ponens. We now have a vague description of the culprit and what they were wearing. Excellent. I've practically earned my gold already, and Bill has practically earned his night at the movies, on which I'll take him once I get my gold. Let us return to the barn!"
As the barn came into sight, the trio caught a glimpse of an orange pony walking into it.
"HEY!" Patches screamed.
"HEY!" Bill echoed.
"Who is that? They can't go in there! That's a crime scene! They'll contaminate it!"
"They'll contaminate it!" Bill agreed.
"Bill, go get that pony out of the barn"
"Bill, g-OKAY"
Bill dashed off toward the barn.
Applejack stood in the entrance to her own barn. She'd been in here nearly every day since she'd been old enough to work on the farm. But since yesterday, it had become the most dreaded place in all of Equestria for her.
Applejack gathered her courage. She wasn't going to be licked by some irrational fear.
The stillness of the barn was stifling, the silence all-encompassing. The corpse that lay in the straw was facing her. As her eyes adjusted, Amethyst's eyes became visible. The thought of the dead pony watching her made Applejack's skin crawl. Even worse was thought that somepony she'd let onto her own property had done this. Somepony she'd trusted had done such a horrible thing. Was that pony so trusted that he or she might still be allowed on the farm? Was the killer behind her right now?
Applejack didn't look back. Instead, she took a deep breath, lifted her hoof, and took a single step further into the barn. The straw crunched under her hoof. She waited for nothing to happen.
"HEY!"
Applejack let out a cry and looked back to see a tall, gangly, two-legged Monster standing in the barn door. It was a foot away from her hind legs.
"Get out" it ordered.
Patches saw Bill enter the barn, and what couldn't have been a second later, he came flying out of the barn with astounding velocity.
He tumbled across the hard dirt ground for easily twenty feet before being stopped by an apple tree. The thud of the impact could clearly be heard from where Twilight and Patches stood. Patches thought it had looked like Bill had fallen off a motorcycle.
Patches darted off to where Bill lay limp. Twilight followed. The orange pony emerged from the barn and ran to them.
Patches got to Bill, and checked his body for injuries.
"Bill, speak to me"
Bill moaned weakly.
"Bill, tell me you're all right!" Patches picked up Bill's head and cradled it.
Applejack ran up beside Twilight, who stood by watching Patches and Bill.
"I'm so sorry! I didn't know it was one of your specialists! I didn't mean to buck him so hard! I shouldn't have... I shouldn't have panicked. I was scared. I'm sorry"
Twilight was fascinated by the display of affection from Patches. She had been certain neither man had any concern for the others' well-being.
"Bill..."
Bill managed to look at Patches.
"What's the capital of Denmark?"
"C-C-Copenhagen" Bill said weakly.
"Thank God you're okay" Patches released Bill's head, which collided with the base of the tree.
Twilight sighed.
Patches stood up, and approached Applejack.
"I'm really sorry, mister. I didn't mean to kick him so hard."
"What's your name?"
"Applejack."
"Well, Applejack, I think you've messed Bill up worse than the time he got run over by a Zamboni. Have a cigar. You've earned it."
Patches produced a stogie from his trenchcoat. He offered it to Applejack.
"No thanks"
"Ah, you chew. Suit yourself" said Patches, and lit it up for himself.
"Are you sure he's okay? He looks really hurt." Twilight said aloud. She walked up to Bill and looked into his void face. Bill started coughing. Blood sprayed onto Twilight's face.
"Oh dear" she sputtered while moving herself away from Bill.
"Bill, stop pretending you're hurt. If you can blink, you can walk."
Despite everything, Bill managed to use the tree to stand himself back up. His face was starting to swell.
"Twilight. Where can we get some ice cream?"
"What? Why?"
"Bill's going to need it for his mouth, and you aren't going to be able to eat again for a while after the autopsy."