"Explain what? That you're stalking my filly-friend like the creep you are! You'll wish you'd never crawled out of your cave before I'm finished with you!" This was Dusty screaming at me, pressing her beige snout into mine. This was all rather awkward, considering that I was still upside-down, and that my sunglasses had nearly fallen off. Suddenly, I was glad this house was so big - nopony would hear her screaming. However, that did give rise to the small problem that nopony would hear me screaming either...
"I know her, Dusty - let her get up."
"You know this creep?"
Perfect had the grace to pull Dusty away from me, letting me roll over so that the word was right way up again. Stumbling off the desk clumsily, I wondered when all of the blood would leave my head and let me think straight.
"Sorry - about that - there's a butterfly on your roof -" I started, rubbing a hoof over the back of my mane nervously.
"Just because I don't want you beaten up doesn't mean I'm not angry!" Perfect interrupted, stepping up to me, eyes ablaze, "I understand that you're investigating - but spying on ponies? I thought you were at least the most competent!"
"I wasn't there to spy on you!" I insisted, wondering how that statement would ever be believed. I was only sat on your roof, listening to you talking - but it wasn't you I wanted, honest! I could hardly believe it myself. "I saw that pony fly into the window and thought it might be a clue!"
"Wait - is this one of the investigators?" Dusty asked, but was ignored by the rest of us.
"Well, clearly it isn't!" Perfect shouted back, "Nocturne, meet Dust Trail - my filly-friend! The only pony in Equestria who seems to believe I'm not guilty!" Her hoof prodded my chest as she advanced on me, "Maybe you'd like to tell my mother, hmm? Or document it in this stupid case - like-like it's something important?"
"Honestly?" I smiled in an attempt to disarm the situation, holding up a hoof in surrender, "I thought that your friend Dust Trail was the murderer come back to gloat - so in everypony's best interest I thought I should follow her."
"You thought I was the murderer?" Dust exclaimed.
"You did just say you wanted to kill Bold Enterprise."
"Oh, yeah - wait - you heard that?"
"Enough!" Perfect rested her head on a hoof, as if nursing a particularly persistent headache. Sheets of hair concealed her face briefly. "Clearly you've found out that Dusty isn't the murderer, Miss Nocturne - so why don't you leave us alone and go pester somepony else?"
"But I have so many more questions to ask you now," I replied, settling onto my backside on the floor, not intending to leave until I was finished, "like where you were going to go, how and when the two of you met, and why do you -" I glanced meaningfully at Dust Trail "- have a grudge against Bold Enterprise?"
"I though everypony had a grudge against him," the pegasus answered, raising her eyebrows innocently as her mouth curved confidently, "but if you want details it's because he's a stuck up, arrogant mule who just asked my Petal to marry him." I noted that Perfect's cheeks glowed with a slight blush at the nickname.
"Anything else?"
"He was an awful boss with no morals."
"You worked for the company?"
"How else do you think I met Petal?" She had a slightly sarcastic streak, which leant her towards being rather unpleasant - but perhaps Perfect enjoyed the lack of niceties. "I found the rarest of art and shipped it over. Should have been paid more - the work was dangerous enough."
"You quit?"
"Couple of years ago," she said after a moment's deliberation, "I started making a fuss over the business so he fired me."
I smiled, finally thinking I was getting somewhere, "So the business practises weren't exactly legitimate?"
"You can say that again." Her eyes narrowed conspiratorially. "I don't care much for you detectives trying to frame Petal, but if you could get Enterprise's name muddied up a bit I'd be grateful. When I complained about the Exclusive Collection nopony paid me a hint of notice - 'cause I was just some low-class dirt on a fine business pony's suit. But maybe they'd listen to some fancy investigator."
"So what's wrong with it?" I would never let bias get in the way of the facts, but I had to admit - Bold Enterprise was the only pony I really wanted to accuse of anything - even if it was just littering.
"The art I shipped over was usually stolen from ancient tombs - and I know he had some ponies nicking things from foreign museums - that's why most of the company's foreign workers are ponies like me who know their way around a jungle or two."
"This is all very Daring Do," I mused, but I could believe it - I'd done some travelling myself, and the illegal art trade, while still maintaining a low profile in Equestria, was a booming business, "Dust Trail must have told you this, Perfect - but you told me yesterday that you still thought of Enterprise as an older brother - surely this should have shaken your faith in him?"
"I... this is a bit of what you might call a touchy subject between us," Perfect said slowly, eyeing her mare-friend, "I could hardly disgrace the practice when I knew my father was running it too, but that doesn't mean I agree with it. I wasn't about to start publicly speaking out against my family - I can disagree with them in private, but I'm not pulling them apart over their little art trade."
"Is that why you didn't want them to know about Dust Trail - because it might disgrace them among the bourgeois?"
She had the grace to wince as I said this, but nodded slightly in reply. Dust grimaced beside her, but didn't argue with it. They had probably had this discussion before.
"So, my final question - where were you thinking of running off to?"
Perfect snickered at this, "We've been planning it for about a year now - and Dusty says that the season is coming up soon."
The pegasus grinned and spread her wings slightly, "I've got a fair bit of experience in tracking wild creatures, and Petal here's well versed in more languages than I knew existed -"
"-so we wanted to track the dragons." Perfect finished, grinning with a sense of pride. For the first time, I glanced at her cutie mark - a speech bubble with a paw print in it - and smiled.
"Sounds fun - dragons are great," I added. Bat ponies and dragons had a long history of loyalties, considering that we had shared caves together for generations; so where most ponies knew practically nothing about dragons, we bat ponies considered them to be great room mates. So long as no one set the cave on fire - there were always conflicts over the fire-breathing thing.
"I'm not trying to run away," Perfect explained, "I want to clear my name - but nopony seems to believe me."
"I do, Petal."
"And I think I do too," I said slowly - call it what you will - but I didn't think she was guilty. It had happened on a couple of cases before - though never anything as serious as murder - where I had known that it wasn't somepony. Maybe it only happened when my special talent decided to show up and help me, because what use was a special talent in observation, perception, and intuition when it didn't help you observe the most important clues? It was due to my vague cutie mark that I joined the Night Guard - I thought it might give me time to figure out what I could use it for.
"You... you're agreeing with me?" Perfect stuttered, disbelief etching her features.
"Don't sound so surprised that I'd believe the truth - unless you're lying; then I might have to stop believing you." I smiled at her relief, but felt my stomach sinking in dread. "But that does leave me with the problem of having to find the real murderer." In two days, I thought to myself. With Perfect ruled out for now, I wasn't sure which lead would even bring me to a murderer. There was still the possibility that the murderer hadn't been invited to the party.
Nevertheless - there was that one pony...
"I might speak to you later," I said, moving backwards towards the window - I had no desire to squeeze out of there again, but somepony might be a little surprised if they saw me wandering around the house without being invited in first, "don't worry - I won't tell them that you're here." Dusty gave a lopsided grin in response as Perfect nodded appreciatively. With that, I hopped onto the desk and dropped out of the window.
The butterfly was thankfully nowhere to be seen, so I soared over the house to the street below. As usual, Conundrum was already there, tapping a hoof impatiently.
I managed to make a slightly more graceful landing than yesterday, putting a few yards between myself and the chubby stallion. I couldn't hold back the wince as I felt my rib grind painfully on touch-down.
"Can't you arrive anywhere on time, young Nocturne?" Conundrum complained. "It's highly unprofessional."
"I - um - actually got here early," I stated carefully, deciding if I should tell him what I'd found out, "I just got preoccupied. We mustn't tell the family - but Perfect Eloquence seems to have a rather energetic mare-friend."
"A mare-friend?" Conundrum rolled the word around his mouth as if he'd never needed to say it before. "So they were in on it together; the father catches them together - Miss Eloquence screams - her mare-friend acts on impulse - suddenly there's a bleeding stallion who won't dare to name his daughter as the murderer!"
"Well - he wouldn't name his daughter as the murderer if it was her partner who stabbed him." I frowned, rethinking my answer. "Actually, he'd never have called her a murderer - not being dead at the time."
"But you understand how it could happen?" Conundrum urged, his eyes glittering. "After being proposed to, Miss Eloquence contacts her mare-friend and tells her what happened. At that moment Gently Articulate comes into the room to check on his daughter after their argument - sees them together. It is entirely possible!"
"Except that he was stabbed in his study," I dead-panned, "so unless they agreed to meet there, while he was already in the room, they could never have been walked in on by accident." Shaking my head, I sighed weakly; things were going downhill when I started trying to reason with Conundrum's maddening speculations.
"You can't rule anything out, young Nocturne," Conny chided me, "speaking of which, I believe it's time we interviewed the maid - she might know something valuable."
"I did that yesterday," I confessed, "after you left. And she did tell me something useful - Good Conduct went inside soon before Gently Articulate was stabbed, she says that he helped her clean up something she'd dropped." I smiled slyly. "Which is funny, because he claimed he never went inside."
"So we interview Good Conduct?"
"I was wondering if I might go alone..." I felt Conundrum beginning to glare at me disapprovingly. "I also found out this morning that the Exclusive Collection isn't entirely legal, and if you could find the key into that draw... because, you know - it might have some incriminating things inside." I looked up, not realising that I had been staring at my hooves like a naughty school-filly, "... it was just a suggestion..."
Conny observed me in that reproachful, distant manner, wrinkling his nose while his eyebrows narrowed inwards. "Why are you in such a rush, Nocturne? ... We could easily do both things today..."
"I - er -" My hooves shuffled nervously. Should he know the truth? Would it make him work faster? The last time we mentioned the problem of money he stopped talking to me... "I only have until tomorrow evening to pay my rent..." I admitted, "and if I don't pay it I'm out on the street. No more chances."
"... Stupid mare."
"Sorry, sir."
He put a hoof to his chin, thinking carefully - or trying to teach me the meaning of patience, I could never be sure. "I have an idea; you will interview Good Conduct, I will search for that key and interview the maid - again - to see if she has anything else to say, and we will meet back at the office at twelve. Agreed?"
I nodded gratefully, "Sure thing, sir."
With that, Conny straightened his scarf, rearranged the saddlebags and trotted smartly up to the gate. I flexed my wings and took to the air again - wanting to make it to No. 3 Horseshoe Street before Good Conduct could have the chance to get drunk. I also had no intention of going through the front door again, especially if that would mean talking to Pink Diamond for the next two hours of my life. I didn't have enough time to waste on pointless activities.
It wasn't long before I was coming over the street, but instead of lowering myself to ground level, I located the office window I had seen on my previous visit. Sure enough, there was a blue unicorn sat there, his blonde mane even more dishevelled than the day before. His back was to me, so I soon changed that by tapping on the window with a hoof, waiting as he turned at the obtrusive noise.
All colour drained from his face, leaving him like a ghost. His mouth stuttered weakly as he toppled off his chair. A foreleg reached out, trembling as he pointed at me.
Clearly he was already drunk. Or he hadn't sobered up yet. For all I knew, inebriated could have been his natural state.
Well, I had possibly been a bit too optimistic about that.
I tapped on the glass again, indicating to the latch in the hope that he might drag himself over to open it. I grinned, too, though it probably had the undesired effect of making me look more demonic than friendly.
"Could you let me in, please?" I mouthed, trying to balance on the window ledge. He didn't move an inch, but wavering magic flared from his horn and the latch moved so that the window could swing open. I alighted from my precarious ledge and entered the room. Immediately, I was hit by the alcoholic fumes.
Bloodshot eyes stared at me, like prey watching the predator.
"It's alright, you know," I sat down next to him, "we met yesterday - I'm Nocturne - the private detective. We shared a nice whiskey together." I didn't mention how much it annoyed my mother.
"Excuse me," he muttered, staggering to his hooves, "I don't usually get visitors at the window." His breath didn't smell particularly alcoholic, but with the entire room doused in the smell, it was difficult to be sure. Nevertheless, upon closer inspection, the red-rimmed pupils seemed to be due to a lack of sleep and a cruel hangover rather than an early morning drink.
"Sorry - I seem to be making a habit of it today," I moved around the desk so that I was facing him properly. He hauled himself back into his own chair with a relieved sigh. I remembered what I knew about the stallion; he had debts, he didn't like his wife, he relied on the Exclusive Collection for money, he had a colt... and he was foalhood friends with Featherlight. Nothing stood out as a motive, unless he knew that Bold Enterprise was planning to take his place as number one son.
"Nocturne, did you say?" His accent was more refined without the tipsy slur, and could even have been considered charming if you couldn't see the state he was in while he spoke. "What do you want to know?"
"Yesterday, you told me that you never left the garden during the party. Except," I added, "when your father came out. You claim to have tried to find bandages and things to stop the bleeding."
"I did." He cradled his head in his fetlocks, groaning painfully.
"I don't think you told me everything."
He didn't answer for several seconds, leaving me to think he hadn't heard me. Eventually he did speak up, saying, "You already know what it is."
"I want to hear you tell me," I insisted, not wanting to lead the witness.
"... I was inside with Featherlight, in the kitchen..." He took a breath, not meeting my gaze. "She - dropped something - Mother sent me to see what it was..." He shook his head guiltily, "... I don't know what happened..." His voice broke, but no tears formed, "I never even saw him through the door..."
"Because it was shut..." I finished, shaking my own head in frustration - his story matched Featherlight's. I could hardly blame him for leaving it out yesterday when he was drunk. I glanced up at him. He was blinking blankly, but appeared to be completely genuine. Why did nopony see anything? If everything ponies had told us was true, then Gently Articulate would never have been murdered in the first place. I jumped to a conclusion; suicide!
...Or, you know, somepony was lying...
That was a lot more likely...
Everypony that was outside would have perfect alibis, Good Conduct and Featherlight had each other to vouch for their activities, which left only Perfect Eloquence... So unless the whole garden party was in on an intricate plot to murder him, and frame Perfect for their actions, or Good Conduct was covering for Featherlight, or Perfect was just lying and didn't plan her murder properly, then it must have been an outsider.
Good Conduct, whom I may have forgotten about for a few minutes, had a face that had become several shades of oblivious. His eyebrows didn't seem to want to stay in place, constantly rearranging themselves while his mouth stayed open, ignored for the time being while his brain considered more important matters.
"Do you know anypony who would want to kill your father?" I asked, knowing that if I were a better detective I'd never need to ask witnesses a basic question like this, and would instead have documents to prove he had a long-standing grudge against his second cousin, twice removed, due to the inheritance of an unknown, rich great-uncle.
"No... nopony would want to kill him..."
I sighed and stood up, "I'll be leaving now - but if anything comes to mind, I'd appreciate the help."
He nodded back, his flop of blonde hair bobbing up and down. Through force of habit, and the fear of meeting his wife, I alighted out of the window, soaring into the mid-morning sky.
It was too early to meet Conundrum back at the office, and I wanted to keep an eye on him, in case he glossed over an important detail. With that in mind, I made my way back to the manor house.
What we had forgotten to count on today, was the fact that the police investigators would also be there. So as I landed at the front door, I came face to face with the same investigator who had arrested me. His ginger moustache wriggled disapprovingly on his upper lip as his eyes narrowed; they fixed on me like an over-eager searchlight.
"What are you doing here?" He sniffed and looked me up and down, his icy assistant loitering at his side.
"Proving my innocence?" I smiled, in what I hoped was an endearing gesture, and slid around the side of them, "I'll just leave you to your important work, and-"
"I've just found this pony snooping through the crime scene." A voice behind me drawled, and I bumped into something soft and squidgy. Looking around, I saw Conny dangling in the telekinetic grip of a burly police pony.
"Ah - Conny, so good to see you again," Classic Corduroy sneered, "is your little detective agency trying to solve this crime too?"
"I'll have you know, Corduroy, that we have been employed by the lady of the house to do a better job than you." Conundrum boasted, puffing out his chubby chest. I inwardly shook my head - this could never go well.
"So what have you found out? That it was definitely Gently Articulate that was murdered?"
"Why - do you need some clarification?" I snapped back, drawing his attention. "And for your information, we believe that it may have been suicide - we have evidence to back it up." Conny glanced at me, so I flashed back a 'trust-me' grin and turned to the berry-splodge of an inspector.
"Well, we think that it was all part of a complicated pyramid scheme," the frost coated assistant shot back, "and are nearly ready to name the culprit!"
"Culprit? You mean culprits, right? We've already established that several ponies would have been involved."
"I thought you said it was suicide?"
"It's not just the action of one pony which leads to suicide."
"Don't even try to pretend," she smirked, "you've no experience to deal with a crime of this scale. I bet you don't even know what the murder weapon was."
I didn't say anything immediately, and instead took my time to ease a confident smile across my muzzle.
"Neither do you."
It was her turn to stay silent this time, simmering with quiet rage after being beaten by the better pony.
"Face it, Conny," said Corduroy, "we will solve this before you - a few more facts and we have our murderer. I'm surprised that even you haven't figured out who it is yet." With a nod of his magnolia head, Conny was dropped on the floor. "Now get out of my crime scene before I have to make you to leave."
"We'd know who it was before you could even realise that the sky's blue!" Conny called over his shoulder as we were forcefully pushed towards the gate. I dug my hooves into the ground and spread out my wings, trying to make the stallion's job as hard as possible. Conny had employed a similar tactic and had successfully tangled his police pony up in his scarf. As his tripped over, and I pushed mine off with a painful buck, we left the manor with grace and dignity.