//------------------------------//
// Chapter 2: Office Caper 
// Story: Detective Hooves: Burning Apples and Avarice 
// by shooterboss 
//------------------------------//

	Detective Hooves never felt an inclination to wake up early in the morning; neither did he find purpose in eating a decent breakfast. Nonetheless, his legs led him to Manehattan's local coffee shop in the morning. The best coffee in Equestria, in his opinion, was made in Canterlot, where the earth ponies made coffee by hoof directly from the ground to the cup.
It never occurred to him that his schedule was completely obscured from the weekend's procrastination. In fact, any sane gambler would bet he wouldn't be able to finish all his required work by the end of the year. Still, the calm pony sipped his mug peacefully.
Hard to believe a fire happened four nights ago in this very town. The day was simply too peaceful for such disasters. The fillies were playing tag at the park outside the shop. A husband kissed his sweetheart on the cheek. And outside, a group of tourists from Canterlot made their debut.
But for the first time, Walter's mind was not concentrated on the clouds in the sky or the birds and squirrels flying and running past. Instead, he was thinking of what to do with his workload. Two (it was two, wasn't it?) more cases would finish the year's queue and get him ready for the annual employee inspection, which he would just barely pass, if at all.
Jill's probably done twenty by now. The steam from his coffee rose into his eyes, and Walter whiffed it with his left hoof. The refinery fire case absolutely sounded interesting, but the procrastinating pony chickened out of accepting it. Sounds like a really serious one. I'd better leave it to someone more experienced anyway. The last sip of the coffee was finished, and it was resolved that he check on the file at the lobby of his office building. If it wasn't there, oh well. If it was, he would give it a shot.
Walter dropped a tip of two bits onto the table, or what seemed like two bits; he didn't bother to count. The refinery case's file was still sitting in the queue box in the lobby when Hooves had arrived there. Just my luck, he thought, but he kept his promise, signed his name at the bottom of the folder, and clocked in twenty minutes late (that's pretty impressive for him).
The clicks, mumbles, and rings of fax machines and telephones supplemented his hoof-steps up all those flights of creaky stairs. Maybe I should've taken the elevator. he realized about half way up.
His office was still in the same condition as he had left it the night before, except that there was somepony standing at the center of the paper pile on the floor. By the look of his cutie mark, he must have been part of the apple family.
"Um... hello," Walter said awkwardly.
The stranger turned around in surprise. "Oh... sorry. I was a lookin' for somethin'."
"Do I know you? I haven't seen you around this building before." In fact, no member of the apple family worked at the company.
The stranger ran to him and shook the detective's hoof like a maraca. "Name's Strudel, mister. Haven't seen you around these parks neither."
Walter was skeptical. "Can you not find the stapler? I don't have it."
Strudel ignored and walked past him in haste. "Nice meeting ya, stranger." Within a few seconds, he disappeared down the stairwell.
Walter Hooves could do nothing but stand there in confused hesitation. Uh... okay. The first thing he noticed after turning around to face his desk was that all the cabinets he had organized the night before had been vandalized. Most were scratched; others were torn out of their shelves and spilled across the floor. And to top it all off, his bookshelf had tipped over (he thought to himself: How did I not notice that?). At least it had fallen backward so that the books didn't spill across the floor.
He wasn't even surprised, for the only thought that registered in his head was Well, drat. The detective thought about turning around and chasing down Strudel, in case he was responsible, but several minutes of hesitation had already passed. The stranger might as well have been to Andromeda by then.
It looked like he would be pushed back quite a few hours today. Might as well start with the bookshelf.
In the process of lifting up the shelf without spilling any more books, Walter heard hoof-steps coming up the stairs again. There's the pony of the hour. Hopefully he'll apologize for the little incident and help me clean up. But it wasn't Strudel's hoof-steps.
Jill stood in the doorway gazing in awe. "My gosh, detective. If you wanted the stapler so badly, you could've just asked. I only borrowed it for a few minutes."
"Oh, this? It wasn't me. Some stranger from the apple family broke into my office this morning and tipped over the bookshelf and damaged the cabinets. He told me his name was Strudel, and ran down the steps faster than a cheetah."
Jill was a little bit skeptical about his explanation. "Okay... so you need help with this then?"
"It's fine. I'll take care of it."
After the entire morning and a few hours after lunch break, everything was finally reorganized into a neat (ahem, more neat than before) state. The work made Detective Hooves wish he had drunk more coffee that morning, but at least he was free to do some real work. I guess I should get to that case work now.
The case folder was still sitting on the desk where he left it that morning. It had his signature in bright red felt marker, yet the seal had not been opened. Inside, he saw, was a multitude of documents, pictures, and sources: a newspaper clipping of the same article he found at Carousel Boutique, several pictures of the refinery's ruins after the fire, a log of Applewood's affairs prior to the incident, and blank pages for notes along with other things that Walter didn't bother to read over.
The newspaper appealed to him the most, as it had, on the back, a crossword puzzle. The rest of the day was spent smoking his pipe at his desk trying to fill in rows and columns of words. I've done enough work for today, he thought to himself. Of course I deserve a break.
Once the clock struck six, the fax machines and phones stopped buzzing and ringing, while the elevator descended with several workers and businessponies. Everypony clocked out with the exception of Walter, who had just finished the last row of the puzzle.
Great Celestia above, these puzzles are getting harder every week. As he prepared to leave, Walter turned the page around to the article, and out of pure chance, began to read.


September 17 - Manehattan Times Newslog


Manehattan's new local applesauce refinery, the Applewood, has experienced a recent destructive fire just yesterday. Officials report that all ponies were evacuated successfully, with the exception of one, who is yet to be found.


"I can only feel glad that most of us are safe. It didn't seem like anypony could survive what we had just witnessed here tonight," says Newton, the official manager of Applewood Refinery.


Policemen on scene have discovered that no part of the house had any flames running prior to the incident and are now considering that it may have been an arson.


As far as evidence goes, a torch was found outside the building on Saturday evening, but not traces of hoof-prints were found. Stay tuned for more.


At the bottom of the paper was the address of Applewood Refinery, or what's left of it. Walter decided he would search the area and interview the victims in the morning. Every journey started with one step.
One his way out, he knocked his foot against the bookshelf, which fell over again with a huge crash.