Despite every story to the contrary, most criminal investigations were relatively boring office jobs. Even Priority One investigations.
Paper was crunched. Information was worked. Evidence was run down. DCS Runny Banks went through several bags of popcorn.
But, a week after the attack, they got a lead. DCS Munch and DS Finn were at the open-air market where the cart was stolen, and they ran into one May Fields, an Earth Pony that sold fresh clover honey to restaurants, hotels, and...enthusiasts.
“Yes,” she said, looking at one of the photos. “Cute little unicorn, that one. She came by here every day for about two weeks, was looking for something for her and her girlfriend. Always wore a vest, but I did get a look at her Cutie Mark.”
“Oh?” DCS Munch asked, “could you describe it to a sketch artist?”
“Don’t need to,” May Fields replied with a smile. She rummaged around under her cart and found a sketch pad. “This is it,” and she flipped to a page where she had drawn a good likeness of a female unicorn, and a Cutie Mark of three intertwined salmon.
“May we have it?” DS Finn said, around a cracker that he had put some her sampler honey on.
“Sure,” May Fields smiled. “Oh, and she had teal fur and a short, coral mane. Always thought she should grow it out, but she said her job was easier when she had it short. Never did say what her name was.”
“Thank you,” DCS Munch said, and put the picture away with his notes in the notebag. And, struck by a sudden impulse, he pulled out his purse and bought two jars of honey. “And, thank you.”
“It’s on the house, dear,” she said, hoofing DCS Munch his money back. DCS Munch looked at the money and put it in the tip jar.
“It’s a great tip,” DCS Munch smiled, and the two investigators left.
“The description is one that matches up with a Fluke Scale, seventeen, female unicorn that has form,” DS Drops said, taking a file out from under his wing. “Previous arrests, but no convictions, for traffic in illicit spell materials and prohibited potions.”
“Why hasn’t she been busted yet?” DS Finn asked, sitting back in his chair.
“Cases were dropped due to ‘lack of evidence,’” DS Drops said, looking through the file. “Always caught around, but never holding and she never gave anypony else up.”
“So, what would a small-time mule be doing around in a high-end joint like where the cart was stolen,” DCS Banks asked. “When is the last report on her?”
“Six months ago, when she was thought to be working with a gang that was moving manticore spleens,” DCS Munch said. “Once again, no convictions or charges, but we do have a recent address.”
“Well, I think we need to ask Fluke Scale why she was honey shopping,” DCS Banks said, and pushed himself away from the desk.
The address they had for Fluke Scale was for a large, somewhat rundown apartment building in a poor but somewhat bohemian area of Manehattan. DCS Banks and DS Drops went up to the twentieth floor, and knocked on her door. No answer. “I’ll make sure to leave her notice,” DS Drops said, pulling out a notification pad as they heard the elevator open up, and a pony trot around the corner with a bag of groceries in her saddle bags.
Teal fur, coral mane…, DCS Banks observed, and said, “Fluke Scale, I’m DCS Banks and…,” with a start, Fluke Scale shed her saddlebags and was running for the stairs.
“Ooops!” DCS Banks said, starting to chase after her as DS Drops found the nearest window and flew down to the street entrance.
Fluke Scale came bursting out of the emergency exit, panting. DS Drops saw her around the corner and took off with a powerful burst of his wings. He tackled her to the ground, managing to keep himself out of sight and off her hooves until DCS Banks came down and managed to secure her hooves and put an anti-magic collar on her horn. “Fluke Scale, in the name of the Crowns and Court, I am placing you under arrest,” DCS Banks said, dragging her up to her hobbled hooves. “You have the right to remain silent and full legal council. Do you understand your rights as I’ve said them?”
“Flank off!” Fluke Scale hissed.
“I’ll take that for a yes,” DCS Banks said, dragging her off to their cart.
Once the official notices had been read, DCS Banks looked at Fluke Scale in Interview #1 and asked, “So, what have you been up to lately, Fluke Scale?”
“Flank off, flathead,” Fluke Scale sneered. “I want my lawyer.”
“Your Legal Aid attorney will be here soon, but don’t you want to know why you’re here?” DS Drops asked.
“Doesn’t matter,” Fluke Scale snorted. “You keep busting my chops and get nothing for it.”
“This isn’t your usual run of moving dodgy stuff, you might have just become a conspirator in a Class 3 Unauthorized Reality Excursion,” DCS Brooks said. “Which means you were involved in a murder, dearie. That’s hard time, probably Isle of Hoofington, for at least fifteen years. And, if the Court thinks you were actually an active participant…”
“Hey, I wasn’t doing any summonings!” Fluke Scale yelled, angry and scared. “Flank you, you’re trying to pin something on me!”
DS Drops started to lay the photos out. “This is the unicorn they tortured to get the summoning to work. That’s at least fifteen to twenty. Add the summoning, attempted murder charges…,” he ticked off items that happened.
“WHAT?!? What murder charges?” Fluke Scale screamed.
“Attempted murder,” DCS Brooks corrected. “Nopony got killed, but it was a near-run thing.”
The door to Interview #1 opened and a female unicorn in a Legal Aid vest came in. “Are you badgering my client?” the unicorn lawyer said. “Trying to get her to say something without proper legal counsel?”
“Just trying to let her know what sort of trouble she’s in,” DCS Brooks smiled. “Didn’t harass her in the least.”
“Now, may I speak with my client?” The unicorn lawyer shooed the two detectives off, and they went into the observation room, where Crown Prosecutor Kiwi Pips waited.
“Pushing her a bit hard?” Pips asked, flexing her wings as they watched the Legal Aid lawyer and Fluke Scale talk with each other in low whispers.
“I don’t think she did it, or at least she wasn’t one of the summoners,” DS Drops replied. “I think she was involved...but, sort of on the side.”
“I agree with Drops,” DCS Banks said. “I’m just not sure how she fits in…”
The Legal Aid lawyer nodded, and knocked on the window with the one way glass. DCS Banks, DS Drops, and CP Pips came in, the lawyer looking ready for a fight and Fluke Scale looking a bit frazzled.
“I’m willing to have her talk, but I want immunity from prosecution for my client. At most, she’s accessory to a Class E felony,” the Legal Aid pony replied.
“If we like what we hear,” CP Pips said, “she has it. Let’s hear it.”
The Legal Aid pony nodded at Fluke Scale and she took a deep breath. “Look, I’ve been clean and out for six months. Found a girl, she loves me, and I’ve been trying to turn my life around, okay? Problem is, money has been tight lately, and one of my old buddies came up and asked me to do a favor for him.”
“Who’s the buddy?” DCS Banks asked.
“Earth pony by the name of Sip Can,” Fluke Scale said. She looked around, depressed and nervous. “He was the guy that ran me when I was into, well, stuff. Still in the business of moving stuff, and he runs an off-the-books club down near the Waterfront, place called ‘Chinos’. He met up with me after work a few weeks ago, and he told me that all I had to do was find a new, enclosed cart that could be towed by six ponies and was near the South Gate. So, I told him of this place that I saw that had a cart on my way to work, and next day he hands me a bag of about a thousand bits-says it’s ‘my share’ of a ‘good thing’ he’s got going.”
“Did he say why he needed the cart?” DS Drops asked.
“No, and I didn’t ask,” Fluke Scale said. “He told me that he might need another cart soon, and to keep an eye out.”
“Well, what do you think?” the Legal Aid pon asked.
“If we can confirm the information and she’s willing to testify under a truth spell about this-and only this-we’ve got a deal,” CP Pips said.
“So, let’s go and find Sip Can,” DCS Banks said.
“You got nothing,” Sip Can said, sitting down in Interrogation #2. “What you busting my mane for?”
Sip Can was a wiry Earth pony, dark brown fur with a slightly darker mane. The dripping can for a Cutie Mark was...unique, to say the least.
“Well, we can start with your club,” DCS Munch said. “Off books, so you probably don’t have any licenses, which is a problem.”
“Hey, have you tried to get a liquor or music license lately? Flanking backorder of six months and I can serve during the application process,” Sip Can grunted. “And, all my paper is in order, and I run a clean shop.”
“Not according to Vice,” DS Finn retorted. “You seem to have an awful lot of working mares in your place every night, and it seems like you get a lot of action.”
“This isn’t a Vice bust,” Sip Can sat back and smiled. “You want something. What is it?”
“Who did you get the cart for, the new six pony one a few weeks ago,” DCS Munch asked.
“Don’t know,” Sip Can replied. “Colt came in, said he knew I used to move product. He gave me two plat that night, told me that if I could find a new, six pony enclosed cart near the South Gate, I’d get two more.”
“And?” DS Finn asked in the silence.
“Found him a nice, eight year old cart, sweet thing, and got it to him outside the South Gate. Paid me two plat right there,” Sip Can smiled.
“Describe him,” DCS Munch said. “Who pays a colt four thousand bits for a cart?”
“Unicorn, tall as I am, long-ass horn, blue eyes. Black fur and mane, but I could tell they were dyed. Never saw his Cutie Mark, always wore a cloak,” Sip Can said. “So, you going to bust my flank over this or am I now a Material Witness?”
“How did he get in touch with you after you found the cart?” DS Finn asked.
“Came in every third night, bought drinks, asked, left. Night I got the cart, he shows up with five other unicorns. Cloaks with hoods up, paid me and took the cart,” Sip Can said.
“Still not much use, and I wonder how many of the mares that wander in and out of your place are legal,” DCS Munch said. “I suppose we’ll have to go there tonight and check every single pony there for outstanding warrants.”
“Lots of squad carts, lots of Guards going in and out,” DS Finn said, with a smile that suggested that he’d like to indulge in a little Guard brutality with Sip Can.
“Yea, I caught a look at one of the female unicorn’s flanks. Had a Cutie Mark of three small blue elephants, two on top and one on the bottom,” Sip Can said. “You want to keep busting my flank?”
“Only if your information is bad,” DCS Munch said, and the two of them left as the sputtering Sip Can tried to retort.
“...and, that’s about all we have right now, your Highness,” DCS Banks said, looking at his notes. “We’re running down the leads we have right now, and if we can identify even one of the unicorns involved, it’s a start.”
DCS Banks remembered from the days when he was a mere Detective, learning under the tutelage of the famous and brawling DCS Green Hunt. This was back in the “good old days” of police work-when colts were colts, mares were mares, and lesbian sheep were nervous. DCS Hunt had a lot of great expressions for this, and one of his favorite was “managing the managers.”
“You want to figure out how to tell your bosses,” he said over donuts and booze one night, “that you’re getting everything done, you’ve got scalds of witnesses you just need to interview, flank-loads of physical evidence, and everything else. Even when all you have are two busted-ass donkeys and half a biscuit to your case, and you really want to get back out on the street and start running down where the biscuit came from rather than answering silly questions to a DI that hasn’t worked a case in ten years.”
DCS Banks realized that “managing” Princess Celestia was simple-the truth, and as much as he could give. So, he gave it to her in full.
“Do you have the identity of the sacrifice victim,” Princess Celestia asked, looking grim at the thought.
“Not at this time, your Highness,” DS Drops said, “Considering his condition, he was probably a transient or homeless, and the summoners just grabbed the first unicorn they could find.”
“Thank you,” Princess Celestia said, and sighed. “Do you need any more resources? Ponies?”
“Not at this time, your Highness,” DCS Banks said. “Cases like this are like a whole mixed up pile of jigsaw puzzles. Nothing really happens until you can figure out how to put enough pieces together to start getting a coherent image. A bit of forest, the borders of the puzzle, it takes time and work, but right now we have all the eyeballs that we can make use of on the case.”
Princess Celestia nodded. “I will not keep you from your work, then. Once again, thank you.”
As DCS Banks and DS Drops turned to leave, there was the sound of an explosion from within the Royal compound. Not a large one, but easily audible in the audience chamber. And, DCS Banks noticed, Princess Celestia didn’t flinch when it happened.
“Your Highness?” DCS Banks asked, curiously, “What was that explosion?”
Princess Celestia looked out the window and sighed.
“That, DCS Banks, is what happens when you are silly enough to allow foals to play with steam,” Princess Celestia said with a sigh. “We’ll have to rebuild the workshop. Again.”
“Got an ID for you,” Firemare 3 Ashes said without preamble, coming into the squad room. “Cafe owner near the arson said a male and female unicorn were at his cafe near both times, and he recognized the female unicorn’s Cutie Mark. Never got her name, but she was there then.”
“What about the male?” DS Drops asked.
“Wore saddlebags, can’t recall what much more about him,” Firemare 3 Ashes replied, looking at her notes. “But, he matches the general description we got-tall male with a long horn.”
“So, we just need to find…,” DCS Banks said, as CSI Griffin came in.
“Got some good news for you, we were able to find one of the summoners in our database,” he said, laying out a file. “Female unicorn by the name of Grey Parade,” revealing the photo of a pony with a three elephant Cutie Mark. “She’s got form-got a six month stint in Black Marla for love poisons and some other nasty stuff. And, I can tie her to the summoning. The other five signatures, not in the database.”
“How did you figure that out?” DS Drops asked.
“You can thank Princess Twilight Sparkle, got her scroll when I came in today. We did a quantum magic resonance test, and we picked up Grey Parade’s signature,” CSI Griffin replied.
“Well, DCS Banks said, “we should talk with her and ask why her signature’s on a summoning grid.”
Grey Parade slouched in the chair, looking insolently at the two detectives. Her last photo had her looking a bit gaunt-but, now she looked relatively well fed. She wasn’t cuffed, but she did have an anti-magic ring on her horn.
“So, what have you been up to, Grey?” DCS Banks asked, looking at her.
“I want my lawyer,” Grey Parade said, simply.
“Absolutely. Legal Aid is on it’s way, and while we’re waiting, you might want to know that we have your signature on a Class 3 summoning grid. And, there was a live sacrifice on it. So, the sooner you talk to us, the sooner we can get the Crown Prosecutor in and cut you a deal,” DS Drops said.
“Filly flanker,” Grey Parade snorted. “If you had that, I’d be in chains right now.”
“Yea, but like my partner said, we want all your merry crew and the guy in charge-the tall one that dyes his mane and tail black,” DCS Banks smiled. “So, I think my boss and the Crown Prosecutor are willing to cut you a deal in exchange for him.”
Grey Parade looked at the both of them. “I’m not talking,” she said.
“Well, we might as well wait for your Legal Aid lawyer,” DS Drops noted. “Be back in a bit.”
The two of them went into the observation room, where DI Cracken and CP Pips were watching. “Something wrong here,” DI Cracken said. “She’s too...controlled?”
“I read her arrest report from six years ago-she should be cursing up a storm,” CP Pips said, looking at the detectives. “When her Legal Aid pony gets here, I’m going to request a geas check and...oh, flank me…,” as her voice trailed off.
All of them looked inside and saw that Grey Parade was shaking, as if she was having a seizure, and her horn was glowing. “Get the EMT!” DCS Banks said, as he and DS Drops charged in, dragging Grey Parade off from the chair and onto the floor. “You’re trying to cast a spell!” DCS Banks said, “You’ve got to stop before you hurt yourself!”
Grey Parade gargled something that DCS Banks could barely make out, then she hissed, “For the coming of the eternal night!”
And, DCS Banks knew exactly what she was trying to do. Which was why literally tackled DS Drops to the other side of Interview #1 and used his telekinesis to flip the heavy wooden table so that they could be shielded behind it.
The entire world vanished for DCS Banks in a roar of sound and fury, as Grey Parade exploded from a magical backfire.
“Well, with the exception of me,” DS Drops said, waving his bandaged wings, “and you here for a few days for burns and cracked ribs, the only casualty was Grey Parade. How did you know she was going to try and do a magical backfire like that?”
DCS Banks was in a hospital bed, several wires stuck in him, and bandaged pretty much from the shoulders down. “Saw it a couple of times when I was in the Service,” DCS Banks shrugged carefully, trying not to wince. “Unicorn with a damaged horn trying to do serious magic, and when they do, boom.”
“If I haven’t said it before, thank you,” DS Drops said. “Wings are bruised, not broken, so I’m clear to go. Doctors said they want to hold you for a day or two, just to be safe.”
“Yea, and I’m gonna let them,” DCS Banks replied. “Getting blown up is a young pony’s game,” he grinned. “Besides, it’s now a four day weekend for me.”
“You’re a lazy old flank,” DS Drops chuckled. They both knew that the doctors wanted to hold DCS Banks for a week, and four days was the only compromise they had all been able to accept. “Try not to starve on hospital food, okay?”
“Will do,” DCS Banks smiled, and DS Drops left. After the door closed, DCS Banks let his smile drop, and looked up at the ceiling. “Six years, six flanking years…,” he muttered.
From Elsewhere, DCS Banks pulled out a small clear pentagonal gem at the end of a gold chain. He picked up the phone handset with his telekinesis and wrapped the chain around the handset. Then, he dialed a number on the phone. After he dialed, the gem started to blink a soft yellow, then it became a solid green.
There was a hissing on the line for a second, a chirp, then, “Secure connection” from a flat, tinny, androgynous voice.
Had anypony tried to tap that line, they would have heard...nothing. As far as the Royal Phone Exchanges were concerned, there wasn’t a call being made, the line wasn’t connected to anything, and nopony was connecting to anypony else.
“This is SI Runny Banks,” he said. “Authentication is Victor-Echo-Three-Eight-Nine-One. Confirm, please.”
An androgynous voice replied on the other end. “Authenticate Hotel-Golf-One-Zero-Seven-Two. Welcome to the net. Query?”
“I’m currently on sabbatical, working for the Canterlot Royal Investigations Division. Case file is Eight-Three-Two-Six-Six-Two-Zero-One-Four. During the interrogation of Grey Parade, she said something that I can’t put in the official record because I’m the only pony that made it out clearly.”
“Understood,” the voice said. “What was it that she said?”
“She said, and I quote, ‘You’re too late, we’re almost there.’ Considering that Grey Parade may have been a member of the Order of Eternal Night, she might have known something that made her commit suicide and avoid interrogation,” DCS Banks said.
A short pause, then. “Information noted. It’ll be passed up the chain, Special Investigator.” Another pause. “Your file has a flag, a request for information. Query-’Are you still on sabbatical?’”
DCS Banks sat and thought about that for a second. “I am, for now,” he replied. “If case circumstances change, I’ll request reinstatement.”
“Understood,” the voice said. “Any other queries?”
“None, thank you.”
“Thank you, SI Banks. Disconnecting,” and the line went dead.
DCS Banks hung the phone up, unwrapped the chain, placed it back in Elsewhere, and looked out the hospital window. “Well, that put the griffin among the chickens,” he sighed.