//------------------------------// // The Suspects // Story: My Little Noir // by Colt in the Moon //------------------------------// If you’re reading this story, I strongly advise against it. Unless you’re one of those sickos who enjoys a tale of murder, crime, and mystery, you should steer clear. For the rest of you, let’s get this over with. My name is Tracer Bullet, and I’m a private eye. Recently I solved a murder case. Normally I wouldn’t bore you with that kind of story, but I’ve got time to kill and half a bottle of Applejack Daniels to finish, so we might as well get started. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ It was another dreary day for me, but to make it worse, it was a slow day. I hate slow days. There’s nothing worse than getting out of bed only to sit in an office room all day. I wished I remembered to bring my ball again. I usually bring a ball to bounce off the wall when I’m bored. But I guess it isn’t all bad, I mean, I do have some entertainment: a bottle of whiskey and a gun. So as you can see, I’m never bored. Still, sometimes I wish I did more than get drunk and shoot stuff, like read something, or take a walk. Actually, nah getting drunk is better. Only eggheads read. Just before quitting time though, it happened. My boss Fire Trail had just walked through my door. “Thanks for knocking”, I say without looking up. “Listen Bullet,” she says in her usual no-nonsense voice, “I’ve noticed that you’re sittin’ around here on your lazy flank, so I got a job for you.” I raised my eyebrow, “Oh yeah, whaddya got for me?” “It’s pretty simple, a murder,” And with that, she slammed a file on my desk. I was surprised to see that the file was medium thick. Usually with murder, the victim’s file is paper thin, and sometimes it will literally have just one paper in it. But this one seemed juicy. The answer came when I opened the file and saw the name. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ “Minty Fresh,” I shook my head when I saw the white outline of the unicorn’s body. Once I read her name on the file, I hurried over to her apartment. Her wife Gumbelle was in hysterics. I don’t blame her. Not only was her special somepony dead, but her apartment was in shambles. It would take days to clean it up. Meanwhile, Gumbelle was crying like mad. “I-Is there anything *sniff* I can do, detective?” “Right now the best thing you can do is give us any information that is important. Let’s start with the most important one; did she have any enemies that would want her dead?” Asking this was pretty much the same as asking what sound a cat makes. Minty may not have been the most famous name in the underworld, but she was certainly no angel. And I could tell by the way her spouse’s eyes darted back and forth, Gumbelle was thinking the same thing. “Well, I mean she, I guess that…*Sigh* Yes, yes she did. Five come to mind.” I quickly got out my notepad and got ready to write. “First there’s our neighbor Tootie Fruity. Next I would say the club singer Moonstone, then Addams Apple, Bunnie and Clyde, Ms. Dawn, and that criminal Fyre.” Crap. Those are the most notorious criminals in town. Well except for Dawn and Tootie Fruity. One’s a librarian and the other is a soldier who went crazy. Then again, any pony would after they have bomb blow up right in their face. I decided to look around for clues. One of the first things I noticed was a pink strand of hair on the carpet. This lowered the suspect list a little; it was now in-between Dawn, Tootie Fruity, and Bunnie. I obviously suspected Bunnie first. You would too if you had to choose between a librarian, a veteran, and a big time mobster. I quickly put that away in evidence. I also took note of how the killer broke in by just using a bobby pin, but the inside was so torn up. Like this was done by more than one pony, or dragon. This place reeked of that little punk’s cologne. Fyre always thought of himself as the biggest gangster in town, but he would never say it to Bunnie or Clyde. To be fair though, he did run a very successful gang, and the police just couldn’t seem to catch him. I myself have tried to bust some of his cases. I was almost hoping he was guilty, just so I could book ‘im. “Ooh, watch the glass!” I looked down and saw bits of broken glass. “What happened here?” Gumbelle looked a little nervous. “Well, *sigh* it was that dragon Fyre.” “I knew it! So he’s the one who did it right?” I got a hopeful smile on my face. “Well, no actually. Fyre came by last night. But that was just to deliver a message. He said that *choke* that Minty had one more day to get back his money. He knocked over the vase as a warning. But I suppose it’s entirely possible he could’ve,” her pupils shrunk, “killed her.” Dang that meant he still possibly couldn’t have done it, or maybe he could have hired somepony to do it for him. Somepony named Addams Apple, a hitpony who enjoys breaking the hooves of late payments. I quickly spun around and faced Gumbelle. “You did mention one of the suspects was Addams Apple, right?” “Yes, she was hired by Bunnie and Clyde.” “But why would Bunnie hire her to-“ “I DON’T KNOW, OKAY?! YOU’RE THE DETECTIVE, YOU FIGURE IT OUT”! Gumbelle immediately placed her hooves over her mouth, which bared a shocked expression. I didn’t blame her for snapping; after all she had a point. It was my job as the detective to fill in the answers. “I am so sorry about that, I-“ “Don’t be,” I replied, “It’s not your fault your wife is dead. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ I looked through the files of the suspects; each one was complimented with a file photo. The only ties I knew Minty had with one of these scum bags was Fyre, since Gumbelle told me Minty owed him money. The one who was puzzling me most was Moonstone, the club singer, but perhaps I’m making her sound too innocent. Moonstone is a singer, but she’s also a dangerous criminal. Her specialty is diamonds. She loves the little crystals, and she’s been known to be a great cat burglar when it comes to them, and while she’s dabbled in murder here and there, it’s always been for a reason (A sick, twisted reason). I was about to go interrogate her, when I saw Tootie Fruity’s file. I dreaded seeing her the most. Her insanity made sure she rarely made sense; and when she did make sense, it’s wasn’t very smart. But then I saw her address, and I shouted out, “I HAVE TO GO BACK TO THE APARTMENT BUILDING?! I WAS JUST THERE”!