Chapter 10: Silent Film
I had just been promoted to Detective, myself. He’d been slated for the same post for a few years. We weren’t new to being cops, mind you. We were originally Fillydelphia officers. But we’d been in Detrot for a year and had decided to treat ourselves to something nice for surviving five years in a city that our old C.O. had told us we wouldn’t last a week in.
“So what are you in the mood for? Wings? Veggies? Something on a stick? Maybe something exotic?” he’d asked me, as we were dressing down in the locker room. He was referring to mares, actually. I know, it sounds like a dinner question. But he always talked like that. What kind of girl would I like? Pegasus, Earth pony, unicorn, Zebra, bat pony? He had a weird way of talking, sometimes. He called cruising for chicks “eating out”, for obvious reasons. Not exactly a model for appropriate behavior, when he was off the clock. He’d come close to a lawsuit once, as I recall. But that’s another much less important story.
Either way, we were just heading out of the precinct. “I’m thinking maybe a nice Pegasus girl. You know, something light,” I said.
He gave me a playful nudge. “Feeling like letting her be on top, or somethin’?”
I laughed, and shoved him back. “Don’t be crude, the boss is still only a hundred yards away. Now come on, let’s hit a bar before they either all close or do something stupid. I don’t wanna walk in on another murder case like Heart’s and Hooves Day.”
He nodded, shuddering. “Remind me to empty a room of glass bottles before I dump a mare in public.”
I twitched. “Remind me not to dump a mare in public.”
“You mean you don’twant witnesses?” he asked.
I thought about it. “Fair point. So, where are we going, anyway? Has anything new opened up to replace that old Shirish bar we used to hit?”
He shook his head. “Nah. There’s a Scoltish place nearby, if you want. Might be a little ruff and tumble for us, though. I certainly don’t feel like another fight tonight.”
I laughed and nodded my agreement. We’d had a hit and run earlier today that had ditched his wheels and bailed down an alleyway. We’d had to chase him down and corner him, but since he wasn’t armed we couldn’t exactly pull our guns out and drop him. So we’d had to go hoof-to-hoof. Escalation of force and all that jazz. I was still nursing a bad ankle and my partner’s ear was bent at an odd angle, wrapped up in some bandages.
We’d ended up going to a small hole in the wall for warmup drinks and something to eat, thinking we’d do a bar crawl. One drink one bar and all that, and see if we met anypony on the way. We had our wingpony system, just like other guys. Of course, we didn’t get to that.
While we were sitting around in that little hole of a bar, some guy was going off at the end of the room about this great new nightclub that had just opened a few weeks ago, and was raking in money and stuff. The place was supposed to be all lit up right, with gorgeous girls working tables and poles, and all that jazz. Basically what every club tells its potential clientele it has. We figured most of it was bunk, but having hit every other watering hole on the strip at least once, and our only other plan being to do it again all in one night, we thought that maybe just sitting in one place all night would be good for us.
So we paid for our drinks and walked off, finding the new establishment without much issue. They had those big searchlights in front of the entrance, shining into the clouds in big white circles. The whole Grand Opening shtick. There was a decent line, which was to be expected, so we stood in the back and shot the shit while it slowly moved forward. They’d let a few ponies in every couple of minutes, but we were still waiting for the better part of an hour, if not the whole thing. I remember he was talking up this pretty little thing maybe five years younger than him and dressed like she required a life support system made of glowsticks. I’d let them alone while they talked, nudging him every once in a while when the line was moving.
I’d thought we’d have to wait when we got in, once we got to the door, but apparently the bouncer recognized us. He brought up some case or something where we’d found the guy who’d robbed his apartment or business or whatever. Something we did every day, but it meant a lot to this guy. So he let us in, and my partner made a point of getting the girl he was chatting up in with him. The bouncer said alright, and we all walked in and got ourselves a table.
I remember the joint pretty well, since I’ve actually been back there once or twice since then, but for different reasons. Lights everywhere, poles and tables and runways and dancing cages. About what you’d expect from a club owner with a lot of cash. We both figured it was probably owned by somepony who really shouldn’t have all that money, but does anyway. SO we sat down for a little, ordered some drinks, and once we’d had our required dose of liquid courage, got ourselves out on the dance floor. Those two were going at it out there, dancing like the devil was in ‘em and grinding on each other like they were gonna fuck right there. Then again, so was most everypony else.
I remember it started right when I’d found somepony to dance with. I don’t remember what she looked like, let alone her name or her voice. But I do remember asking her.
“What’s your name?” I’d shouted over the crowd.
“What?!” she’d shouted back. I couldn’t hear her but I could read her lips just well enough.
“What’s your-” and I got cut off.
A bunch of glass hitting the floor was the first thing I noticed. At first I thought somepony had busted a window or a light had blown out. Turns out I was right on the first count. I looked up, and saw window after window getting broken in, as a bunch of PACT guys dropped through the ceiling, black suits and ziplines and all that. Now, my first thought was what the hell were they doing here? They hunted monsters and stuff. Fond out later that the establishment was run by a Manticore with a bit more intelligence than the average bear, and a side drug trade dealing out diluted and treated manticore venom as a hallucinogen.
So they brought in these guys, not bothering to tell the DPD about it, of course, or we might not have been there. I’m still not a big fan of PACT, even if I do like some of their toys. They announced that it was a raid, and officers came in from the entrances and exits, surrounding the building and all that.
At some point, somepony lobbed a flashbang in front of me. I didn’t even think. I just kicked it away from me as hard as I could. I didn’t pay attention to where it landed, just made sure to shield myself from when it went off. Then I looked around for my partner. Found him, amidst all the commotion. He’d been trampled slightly, enough to break both his legs. I drug him away from the crowds and gave him a once-over.
I started to put together what happened when I noticed the phosphorous burns on his face. I got witness statements later telling me what I already knew: I’d kicked the flashbang right into his face. It had gone off right in front of him. His eyes were destroyed, his face burned, and the concussive force knocked him back into a table and knocked him out. From there, he’d gotten trampled on, and that’s when I’d found him.
He hasn’t woken up since. And I haven’t forgiven myself since.
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“I’ve had partners since then, of course,” Longarm explained. “None of them lasted long, at first. They asked for transfers or new partners or just up and left without explaining why. I don’t blame them. I’ve been a right ass for a year. Lucky I haven’t been fired or transferred since.
“Nopony blames me for what happened, except me. They say I was just following my training. We’re taught to throw away grenades that land to close to us, not dive on them. Most ponies I know blame PACT for not discussing the raid with other agencies. Of course, there’s been some debate that DPD did know, but didn’t tell its lower officers because it was ‘need to know’ information.” The cop’s tone whenever he brought up PACT was tense and hollow. Like discussing a relative you would rather just pretend was dead.
I didn’t really know what to say to any of it. “So... where is he now? Somewhere in this hospital, I imagine.”
Longarm nodded. “Yeah, not far from here, a few wings down. I visit him now and then, when it’s getting bad. I’ve seen him a few times since we started our investigation. I keep hoping he’ll wake up and go out and find this guy for us so I can get back to chasing villains I understand.”
My head bobbed up and down in slow agreement as I tried to think of something more creative to say. He filled the silence for me, though. “I guess that’s a little bit of why I’m saddled with you. No offense. I think Jade wants me around someone that I can’t be totally careless with. I think she’s one of the only ponies that holds me accountable for that night. So my thinking is that she dropped somepony on me who I have to be wary of, and can’t assume they know what to do at any given moment. Up to now it’s all been investigations and analyzing crime scenes. We haven’t even really had suspects to question outside of the staff at the murder scenes. I keep waiting for that day when he shows himself and the bullets start flying. I have no idea what to expect of you if that were to happen, you know.”
I shrugged weakly. Expressing emotion right now felt like exercise. “Honestly, neither do I. I’ve been shot at before. When guys didn’t want me snooping and stuff. But then I could just run away. I don’t know if I can do that with this guy. I can’t even imagine what would happen if I met him-” I stopped myself as a nurse approached.
“The doctor says you can come in. She’s still sleeping, but he’d like a few words with you.”
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Longarm let himself out of the hospital room while the doctor explained possible options, the likelihood of recovery, and a bunch of other numbers that he was basically spouting off in an optimistic voice to give Eye Spy some hope. He’d heard much the same rigamarole when his partner had been admitted. He looked off in the general direction that he knew his partner was resting in, and tried not to dwell on it. This wasn’t about him or his shortcomings right now. This was about the two ponies in the room behind him that would have to fight to have a normal conversation for a while, and even longer to have a normal life, whatever that was for them.
Leaning against the wall just to the side of the door frame, he could hear basic mumblings of what was going on inside. Spy’s voice would raise now and again, but settle down after some (assumed) placating words from the doctor, and they would go back to talking. The basic gist of what Longarm caught was that the damage that had been done originally to her ear had been rather bad, but she’d been left unattended so long that the blood had clotted and caused further complications. With the surgeries they’d had to perform to clear out the damaged tissue and clots, there wasn’t enough material to work with for implants and the like.
Longarm pushed the door in a little bit to let some sound into the hall, mildly curious. He hadn’t left the room because they’d asked him too, after all. “There may be some magical alternatives,” the doctor explained, “and she’s certainly still capable of speaking or writing, but ponies who suddenly become deaf face a great deal of problems that those born deaf do not. The scenarios are similar, but the adjustment period is really the hardest part. The bottom line of what I’m telling you is that there may be an answer out there somewhere, but you’re not going to find it in this hospital.”
Spy didn’t respond to that right away. In fact, he didn’t at all, as the doctor took the prolonged silence as an opportunity to leave. Whether he recognized that Spy understood the scenario, or that he just wasn’t going to listen anymore, Longarm couldn’t be sure of. Either way, the doctor only gave him a courtesy nod as he walked out and off to treat somepony who hopefully had better chances of normalcy than the unicorn in the room behind him.
Longarm waited a few moments before walking back in, only to see Spy leaning over a still-sleeping Paperweight. Spy shook quietly at his post, a motion Longarm could easily identify as quiet sobs. Not wanting to interrupt the detective’s chance to let out what little emotion of his hadn’t exploded all over the room yet, the cop settled for taking a seat in the corner and waiting.
The room was silent for a while, before Spy spoke up. At first, the Earth pony officer thought he was being talked to, but when he looked up he saw Spy gently brushing a lock of mane out of Paperweight’s face, and talking quietly to her sleeping form. “You know, there’s a whole bunch of things I wanted to do for you when we were done with this case. Our first big real case, and I can’t even protect you. I was going to take you to the theatre. To the movies. Even try and scrounge up enough to visit Canterlot and the Royal Public Library. They say it’s even bigger than what the Archivists here have. I’m not sure about that, but I think you’d love it. In fact, I think I’ll take you there anyway. You don’t need to... listen... to a book. Yeah. What do you think? When this is done, we go to Canterlot? Take all that money from the job, and just pick up and leave? Maybe I can even find work over there for us, and we can get away from this hellhole of a city.”
Spy kept rambling, saying whatever he could think of, filling the silence with promises to a deaf pony and wishful thinking. Longarm recognized it, of course: what Spy was going through. He’d seen it a million times and experienced a variety of it himself. That kind of remorse you get when you feel like everything’s your fault, and all you want to do is fix it. When you can’t think of anything to say but what you think they’d want to hear if they could hear you.
After a while, some time after the pegasus had stopped talking, Longarm walked up and put a hoof on his shoulder. “Listen, Spy, there’s nothing we can do right now except let her sleep. We have a lot of work to do and for now we’re a mare down.”
“No, I gotta stay here. I have to be here when she wakes up,” Spy said quietly.
The Earth pony wasn’t having any of his stubbornness. “Hey, I understand how you feel, but we have to get going. There’s still a lot of work to do-”
“NO!” Spy shouted, swinging an arm wildly. The untrained attack caught Longarm off guard, knocking him back on the floor. Spy looked over his shoulder, bearing an expression that was nothing short of an artist’s portrayal of sorrow and rage. “I can’t leave her! Not now! I wasn’t there when she needed me! I was off... hell, I wasn’t even doing anything! I was just... talking! No, I gotta stay here.”
Longarm recognized it more, now. What Spy was feeling. Why he was so intense. Not just the typical “survivor’s guilt”, but something else. He’d also seen it a million times before, on a million different faces. “Spy... are you...”
“What?” the detective snapped, turning and dropping to all four hooves to face the cop. “Am I what?!”
“You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”
Spy stopped for a moment, his face a mixture of disbelief and hurt. After a few moments, he yelled out, “Yes! Yes, I am, ok! Is that what you wanted to hear?! You wanted to hear me say it, or something?! Yeah, I’m in love with her! So excuse me if I want to spend all of my waking time with her, or something!”
Longarm picked himself up from the floor, not bothering to tend to the welt slowly developing on the side of his face. “Look, it’s not going to do a whole lot of good, right now. We can come back and try to find a way to communicate with her later. I’ll bring a big pad of paper and a marker, or something, ok?”
Something in the statement must have hit home, as Spy wheeled around and pinned Longarm to a wall. The cop let him, having seen the movement coming a mile away. Spy didn’t hit him, just held him up. “No! It’s not going to be ok, officer! I’m in love with her, and now I can never say it to her face! Do you get it?! She’ll never hear me say ‘I love you’!”