I have to call it in, of course. The guards aren’t gentle when they take Rarity and escort her to the station. She doesn’t resist. Her eyes and mouth are wide, bewildered, horrified. I follow the lot of them back to the station. They’re subtle, sticking to back streets so that none have to see a Bearer being treated like the worst kind of criminal imaginable. We slip away into the fog like thieves in the night.
When we arrive at the station, silence falls like a lead curtain. None say a word when she’s brought in. Not the guards. Not the officers. Not a word.
And I’ve never felt more disgusted with myself in my life. Something hisses in the back of my brain and I have to tell it to shut up.
There’s no ceremony. She’s brought to the cells for a bit while the higher-ups are informed. Then it’s off to interrogation, locked up behind glass and steel. I watch her from behind the one-way mirror that parts our worlds. A lady, through and through. She keeps her head high and her eyes dry. The Chief stops me from trying to slip away with the excuse that I need to catalogue the new evidence. He sends a rookie instead.
One of the top dog guard ponies comes in. He tells me he’s taking over the interrogation. I toss him my notes and tell him to knock himself out. I don’t get any amusement from his look of disappointment that he didn’t get a fight out of me. Nor from the Chief who’s looking at me like I went and grew a second head.
My guts twist as I watch him enter and spread my notes across the table.
“What the heck’s gotten into you, Sideways?” whispers the Chief into my ear. “Since when do you bend over for royal guards?”
I don’t answer. I see the guard’s lips move silently, the conversation going back and forth. My heart’s racing in my chest. Why is it so loud? Why can’t I shake this damn feeling?
“Sideways?” Hoof on my shoulder. Turn. Chief looks at me. Worried. “You alright, son?”
“Fine,” I say.
Liar. Not fine. You’re not fine and you know it. Guard inside looks down at his notes. Sort. Shuffle. Question. Rarity answers. Shuffle. I look at her eyes and I know she isn’t lying but it isn’t what the guard wants to hear.
Ringing in my ears. Hard to breathe. Coat’s feeling hot like coals and I’m sweating. Am I sweating? Cold in the back of the neck.
“Holy hell, Sideways, what’s the matter with–”
“I need air,” I gasp. I shove past him. He yells something. I don’t hear it. Keep moving, head down, ears still ringing. Outside, dear Luna, get outside. Need to breathe, walls are closing in.
Panic attack. I haven’t had a panic attack since... Since...
I burst out the doors of the station. Heart’s pounding, blood’s racing. It’s all catching up to me.
The rain comes down in a light drizzle, like the feathers of angels fluttering against my cheeks. Suddenly it’s like I’m drowning and my hooves fall out from beneath me. Someone shouts my name.
The thing in the back of my head screams.
What’s more terrifying? That I’m right? Or that I’m wrong?
Someone shouts my name. The fog vanishes and I hear it.
“Sideways! Get a hold of yourself! Where’s Doc?” Chief’s got me on his shoulder, trying to shake me. It all comes into focus.
He flinches when I grab at his neck.
“I’m okay.”
“Like hell you are, you just keeled over! Someone go get–”
“I’m fine,” I spit. My grip tightens. “Just drop it, Chief, for pony’s sake.”
He licks his lips nervously and looks back and forth between me and the cops coming to see what’s gone wrong. Keep face, damn you. I’m fine. You can’t let them think anything’s wrong.
“Right, nothing to see here, folks,” finally says Chief. “Ol’ Sideways here’s not used to the cigarettes anymore. Just had a bit of a coughing fit.” He says it so professionally that I almost believe him.
I manage to stand and look like I’m alright. Heart’s still racing. When they’re gone, I fumble for a cigarette, breathing the soothing smoke deeply. It helps.
“What the hell is the matter with you, Sideways?” the Chief barks when I try to move past him.
“Nothing,” I say. I try to keep my voice from trembling. I fail.
“Bullshit. This isn’t like you. I know we aren’t exactly pals, but for the love of Celestia, you’ve got to give me something here. One second you’re fine, and then next you look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s biting you?”
“Nothing. Just a bit of a fainting spell.”
“A fainting spell? Sideways, the hardass from Phillydelphia needs his smelling salts like a rich old mare? That’s not the pony I know.”
“Then maybe you don’t know me at all, Chief,” I shoot back, ripping the cigarette out of my mouth. “Not like that’s exactly news to you.”
“Well maybe if you spoke to me once in awhile we wouldn’t be having this problem. You can’t keep playing this game, Sideways.” He jabs me in the chest. I stagger. He’s stronger than I realize. “This is your can of worms. You’re the face of the PPD whether you like it or not. This isn’t just about you, no matter how much you think it is. There’s way too much on the line for you to run off like a prima donna scaring the daylights out of everypony. So you will get your ass back in there and–”
“It wasn’t her,” I finally say. It comes out as a shout, and what few pedestrians there are in the rain give me a strange look.
“Come again?” asks the Chief.
“I said it wasn’t her. Rarity isn’t the murderer.”
“What are you on about?” he cries, throwing up a hoof in frustration. “You found the murder weapon in her damn kitchen. She can’t explain how it got there, and with what happened–”
“It’s just too easy, Chief,” I say, shaking my head. “It doesn’t add up. None of it does.”
“What does add up is that we have a suspect with a motivation and a murder weapon. That’s reason enough.”
“But it wasn’t her. I know she isn’t lying.”
He cuts me off with his hoof. “Hold it. Is this about your whole ‘reading ponies’ thing again?”
My silence answers as a ‘yes’.
“For crying out loud, Sideways, use your damn head. This is police work! I respect your intuition, but that’s not going to stand up in court. You know that!”
“If you respected my intuition, then we wouldn’t be having this argument,” I answer dryly, letting my cigarette fall and grinding it into the dirt.
“You have got to be...” he presses a hoof into his brow. The veins on his temples bulge like ugly scars. “Sideways, you’re lucky Doc isn’t here. Because if he was, he’d agree with me and you’d be clinically diagnosed with a case of being out of your fucking–”
“Excuse me?”
“What?!” the Chief screams, turning on his heel. He bites his tongue after finding himself face to face with the guard who took my notes.
“Am I interrupting something?” he asks cautiously.
“No, no,” apologizes the Chief, straightening his uniform. “The detective and I were just having a little bit of... a debate. That’s all. Is uh... something the matter?”
I know what the guard’s going to say before he even says it. I mouth out the words like they’re the lyrics to my favorite song.
Not enough evidence against her. Can’t link the murder weapon. Suspicious but not enough. No strong motivation. Not enough information. Alibi checks out.
The Chief nods through the whole speech, and nods politely when the guard hands him my notes.
I keep my head down and walk past him, trying to grab my notes. He doesn’t let go.
“Sideways,” he says slowly and quietly.
“Chief?”
“Tell me honest, son. Do you have another lead?”
The words hurt my throat. It’s like coughing up pine needles. Or maybe a kitchen knife.
“No. I don’t.”
He nods slowly, eyes vacant. He doesn’t get angry. There’s only disappointment, and that hurts even more.
“Go home, Sideways,” he murmurs sadly.
“Chief–”
“I said go home. I’ll have Miss Rarity taken care of. I’m going to need to file a report on this anyways. Just... get some sleep, son. Take tomorrow off.”
I should defend myself, tell him he’s wrong, tell him to shut up and that he doesn’t know any better. Take a drag, shrug him off. Instead I’m numb.
Night falls. The rain swallows me whole and I feel myself disappear into the cold fog.