Pinkie pointed the syringe at… the bloody bed?
Everypony in the room looked at her and rolled their eyes. “Um, hey, Miss Detective?” Slate asked, but Pinkie stared at the body. “Hello? Crazy pink pony? HEY!” Pinkie ignored him, and grimly strode forward.
“I've never hung out with such a big group of lying liars in all my life! My friend Applejack would have to take a shower after being NEAR you ponies. How can you be happy if you keep lying to everypony you meet?” Pinkie tilted her head with a frown, glancing at every other pony in the room in turn.
“Huh? What are you talking about? I’m perfectly happy, and I’m not lying,” Ignis shot back.
“Puh-lease, you’re more scared than a blank-flank at a cuteciñera. You’re scared that your company is going to go under. You’re scared you and your family will end up in the poor house. You’re scared I’m going to pin the murders on you, and you’re even scared Hot Shot won’t be able to protect you! Now that Felix is dead, you’re scared you won’t be able to get any dirt on him.” Pinkie listed off Ignis’ fears, each one making her shake more and more. Wide-eyed, she hid behind Hot Shot. “I've got good news for you, though. You don’t have to act like a couple anymore. I've got this mystery solved.”
“Oh, thank the goddess,” Hot Shot sighed. “I couldn't keep that up for much longer. How did you know we weren't engaged?” he asked. “I thought we had everypony fooled.”
Pinkie blew a raspberry. “That was easy; when I checked your bunk, it wasn't sweaty. If you were doing the horizontal tango as much as you acted like you were, there would have been some sweat, and neither of you are tired. Plus, I found the pictures you were taking of Felix under your mattress. You've been following him for some time. So, you must be a private detective, right, Mr. Hot Shot?”
“Guilty as charged, honey. I've gotta say, I’m impressed with your detective skills. Mind if I take notes?” He put on a fedora and pulled out a pencil and notebook.
“Sure thing,” Pinkie replied. “Quick question: what’s your special talent?”
“Arson investigation. Why?”
“I was just curious what got you into the Private Eye business. I do it to track down dessert thieves, but I guess arson investigation is important, too.” Pinkie nodded and blew a bubble on her pipe. Hot Shot just looked at her and slowly shook his head.
“I’m not lying, what do I have to lie about?” Ol’ Bitty asked.
“You? I understand you lost your house, but that’s no excuse for you to lie about needing a cane. You've been carrying around that useless thing this whole trip. Why? I guess it makes ponies pity you, but is that really the reason?” Pinkie asked.
Ol’ Bitty looked surprised for a moment, her mouth open, but she quickly recovered and shook her head. Sweat beaded on her forehead when she replied, “I guess there’s no denying it. I did it for the insurance money.”
“Health insurance fraud? Why? To pay off your house?”
“No! To keep my house! I thought that I could use the cash to pay off Felix’s company and stay in my home. Please don’t tell anypony! I need the money just to eat!” Ol’ Bitty put on a show of looking old and feeble.
Pinkie smiled wide. “Don’t worry so much about it. After today, I think you’ll have a chance to get your house back. Felix can help you, I bet.”
Several ponies looked at Pinkie like she had grown a second head. Slate was the first to say, “Hey sweetcheeks, I don’t think HE can help anypony.” Slate pointed at the bloody remains in the bed.
Pinkie looked at Quiet Quill. “You’re right, he can’t help Quiet Quill. Or whichever pony I’m talking to.” Pinkie approached Quill the way you would approach a live bomb. “Are you Quiet Quill?” Pinkie asked. Quill nodded in reply. “Oh, that’s good. Don’t you worry, I’ve got a friend who would just love to study you. I bet she’ll help you, too. I Pinkie Pie Promise I’ll get you some help.”
Tiny scoffed and said, “What in Equestria are you talking about? She’s just quiet.”
Pinkie shook her head. She pulled out the diary one more time and flipped it open to the most recent entries. “See here? And here? And here? The mouth writing changes, and so does the tone. That’s almost impossible for a single pony to do, and there’s no reason to do it in a diary. Of course that,” Pinkie said, pointing to Quiet Quill, “isn't one pony, that’s two ponies. You see, she’s got multiple personalities.” Pinkie turned to face Quill directly. “The other one is the writer, by the way. You don’t have writer’s block, you’re just… not you.” She sighed at Quill, who sat on her rump, stunned. She just blinked several times, looking at her own forehooves. “Thanks for writing everything down! It helped me fill in a few blanks.” Pinkie gently patted Quill’s shoulder. “What you don’t know is somepony stole your medication and used it on Whistle Stop. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get a refill in a jiffy.”
Slate blinked at Quiet Quill as if looking at her for the first time. “Wow, yous is one messed up pony.”
“Which leaves you, ya little liar!” Pinkie whirled, shouting at Tiny. Tossing the diary over her shoulder, it landed in front of Quill without ceremony. Pinkie advanced on Tiny, the syringe pointed down at the little unicorn. “Did you think you could get away with it?”
“G-get away with what?” Tiny took a step back.
“Well, poisoning Whistle Stop with Quill’s medication wasn't very nice. He’s a nice pony, really. He’s the only one here who is what he seems to be. Do you have his medication on you?” Pinkie asked. She didn't seem angry at Tiny Tinsel, but Tiny looked at Pinkie with a mixture of awe and terror.
“Yes,” she replied in a tiny voice. “I guess there’s no way to fool you. You know everything, don’t you?”
“Yepperooni, I've got it all figured out!” Pinkie said with a huge smile. “I don’t even need the luminol, that was just to prove it to the rest of you. I do have a really important question, though.”
“Yeah?”
“Will you help me?” Pinkie asked. Tiny swallowed hard, and nodded.
“Whoa-whoa-whoa! You just said she poisoned Whistle Stop! Whaddya think yer doin’ there, doll?” Slate said good-naturedly. “Why don’t yous let me have a nice chat with our little friend there so I can find the bond? Then everypony can just go home and fuhget about dis.”
“Really? Why do you need to interrogate her? I know where the bond is,” Pinkie said calmly.
“You DO?!” Slate’s eyes went wide. “Well, why didn't ya say so?” He grinned. “Who has it?”
“Felix.”
Slate blinked several times. “Uh, what?” I don’t think I heard that right. Who has the bond?”
Pinkie glanced at Hot Shot. “You protect Ignis, okay?” He nodded back.
“HEY! I’m talkin’ to you! Does she have the bond?” Slate growled.
“No, I just told you, Felix has the bond,” Pinkie replied, turning back to face Slate.
“So the killer didn't take the bond?” Slate asked.
Pinkie shook her head. “That question isn't even wrong,” she said, as she puffed bubbles on her pipe again. “I guess you’re not so wise, are ya, wiseguy?” Pinkie’s baby-blue eyes locked onto Slate.
“I don’t like yer tone, dollface. Tell me where the scratch is. Now.” Slate’s stance got lower, and his voice dropped another octave. His muscles rippled under his coat like a spring, coiled and ready to strike.
“Like I said, Felix has it. By the way, he’s behind you, in the engine compartment,” Pinkie said conversationally, like she was reporting the weather.
Slate whirled and howled a war cry. “YOU’RE DEAD, YOU HEAR ME? YOU’RE DEAD!” He bucked the door open, the metal squealing in protest. In a single strike, the door cracked open, swinging on its now-bent hinges. Slate charged into the engine compartment.
Inside, he found the engineer, holding his hooves in front of him like a shield. “Don’t kill me!” he begged in Felix’s voice. Another pony stood flat-hooved just beside him. He wore a similar outfit, but his was scuffed with coal dust smudges everywhere. Slate charged by him, clipping him as he went. This other pony spun and slammed his head into the wall, collapsing into a heap, unmoving.
“Burn, you bucking traitor!” Slate put both forehooves on Felix’s lapel and pushed him towards the furnace. Felix’s hooves ground sparks into the metal floor as he tried to resist, but Slate’s monstrous strength could not be denied.
Thunk thud crack!
Slate grunted and let go of Felix. Three chunks of coal bounced off the ground. Slate whirled around and found Tiny Tinsel, with more hunks of coal floating near her head in her aura. He smirked and said, “Bring it on, short stack.”
Tiny ground her teeth and flung the rest of the coal right at Slate’s head. With a lazy flick of his hoof, Slate knocked them out of the air. They turned to powder before they hit the ground. “Crushing rocks is my special talent, shorty. Breaking you will be easy.” He advanced on Tiny, whose eyes went wide.
She flung coal at him as fast as she could; it was the only thing readily available in the engine compartment. With each stride, he intercepted more coal out of the air with thoughtless ease. Tiny grit her teeth harder and harder as he got closer, firing off more and more coal. By the time Slate towered over her, coal dust was everywhere on the floor. Looking up at this monster of muscle, Tiny squeaked, “Help!”
“Perfect position!” Pinkie’s voice came out of the pile of coal.
“How did you get in there?” Slate growled as he stuck a hoof into the pile of coal. After a second of searching, he pulled up Pinkie by a tuft of her mane. He grinned wide, a toothy smile designed to show teeth, not joy. “Any last words, gumshoe?”
“Party cannon,” Pinkie replied, without pause. It was quite a good retort, however, because the second she said it, her party cannon fired directly out from under the pile of coal and into Slate’s chin. He flew into the opposite wall with enough force to dent it. He bounced off of it with a metallic clang and fell forward onto his face.
Tiny, sweating and breathing hard, fell to her rump. “Thanks.”
“No problem. Wow, he’s got a hard head. I’m a little surprised that didn't kill him. Those weren't streamers in there, it was filled with coal this time.” Pinkie shook off the coal she was half-buried in to reveal the party cannon she sat on. She hopped off and bounced to Felix. He cowered at the foot of the furnace. “C'mon, scaredy cat. He’s out cold. We’ll tie him up if it’ll make you feel better.”
“Y-you got him!” Felix cried, a wild grin breaking out on his face. “You got him! Please, PLEASE don’t tell anypony I’m alive. I’m begging you!” Felix pleaded, with his forehooves together, like he was praying.
“Sorry, Felix. I've already let the cat out of the bag. I think we can work something out, so long as you help a few ponies. Deal?”
Felix looked like he would weep. “Another deal... Okay, not like I have much of a choice.”
Pinkie, followed by Tiny and a soot-stained Felix in an engineer’s outfit, trotted back to the rest of the group. Hot Shot whistled, then smiled. “Damn fine work! So… uh…”
“Wanna know what’s going on?” Pinkie asked with a smirk.
“YES!” Everypony exclaimed.
Pinkie giggled and pulled out her pipe, hat, and mustache. She blew a few bubbles and began: “It all started way back on the train platform. Felix here didn't look so hot after coming out of the restroom. It’s okay, Felix. You don’t have to hide the injuries anymore.”
Felix visibly relaxed and peeled off the overalls. Several ponies winced. He was covered in hoof-shaped bruises, all of them about the size of Slate’s hoof. “Please don’t touch me, even fabric hurts,” he said with a creaky voice.
Pinkie nodded. “You see, Slate works for Moonlight Mortar. Whenever a building made by Moonlight is torn down, there’s a tendency for pony skeletons to be found inside the walls. Of course, the police have never been able to pin the blame on anypony at the company, but I suspect they’re a front for a not-so-nice group of ponies. The Nostro Cavallo, right?” Pinkie asked, as she turned to Felix. He nodded in response. “Thought so. Anyway, Felix here is a super-lucky real estate broker. Whatever he buys turns out to be a good deal. Land he buys always seems to have gems or gold in it. Cheap houses he purchases always end up being in areas that shortly have a population explosion. Correct me at any time if I get something wrong, Felix,” Pinkie said as she blew another bubble.
“Nope,” he chuckled. “You’re right on the money so far.”
“At some point, those ponies noticed your talent, and asked or forced you to work for them. Probably forced. They were already in the construction business, and they've got lots of dirty money they need to launder. What better way to do that, than to buy some real estate and flip it for a profit? I’ll bet it went great for a little while, but then they wanted more. They didn't care how you got the property, or where. And you wanted out, because maybe you saw or heard something you shouldn't have?” Pinkie tilted her head at Felix.
Felix gulped, and said in a low voice. “I know where the body of Jimmy Hoofa is.”
Every other pony’s mouth dropped open, even Pinkie’s. Her pipe hit the floor. “Okay, wow. I guess that’s a good reason to send Slate with you.” Pinkie picked up the pipe again. “Slate wasn't here to be Felix’s bodyguard. His job was to watch him, and bump him off if he tried to cross his employers.” Pinkie nodded to Ol’ Bitty and Ignis. “You two already know Felix, but I’ll bet you didn't know he was being forced to cheat you. You can help these ponies, right?” Pinkie asked, as she turned to Felix again.
Felix cleared his throat. “Uh, I think so. I can free up the lawsuit with Ignis.” Ignis smiled and nodded at him. “Um, who are you?” Felix asked, looking at Ol’ Bitty.
She glared at him. “You cheated me out of my home! Don’t you remember?”
“Oh, the reverse mortgage scam. We took hundreds of homes with that one. I’m sorry if I don’t remember you in particular, but yeah, I can help you. You’ll help me, right, Miss Detective?” Felix looked at Pinkie with the best pair of puppy-dog eyes he could muster.
“Of course I will! I've got friends in high places. Trust me, I’ll get you taken care of. It’s a Pinkie Promise. Anyway, once we got on the train, I noticed the way you were acting, especially around Tiny. I had to put it all together with the clues I found on the train. You faked your death to get away from Slate.” Pinkie blew another bubble and smiled.
“That’s right!” Felix exclaimed.
“How did you know?” Tiny asked.
“You gave it away,” Pinkie said to Tiny. “I asked myself: how could the murderer kill Felix, drag his body all the way to this car, and get back in the time it took for the lights to come back on? All without anypony noticing? Yeah, I didn't buy that. So I started to work with other theories. Like, maybe Felix wasn't dead, he was just hurt, and the blood we were following was being left by him. But that wasn't quite right either, and I put it all together when I found that,” Pinkie said, as she pointed to the grisly bed.
“Wh-who is that?” Ol’ Bitty asked with a quaver.
“Nopony,” Pinkie replied. “It’s a fake. See?” she squirted the luminol onto the bed and flicked the lights off. Nothing happened, and Pinkie turned the lights back on after only a moment. “It’s red hoof polish. It has an aroma if you get close to it. It isn’t so easy to smell once it’s dry, but with this much, you can still smell it if you get close. And who has hoof polish?” Pinkie asked with a flourish.
“Tiny Tinsel,” Hot Shot said, scribbling another note into his notebook.
“Bingo! You win a prize!” Pinkie said, as she stuffed a kazoo in his mouth. “Don’t blow on that unless you like wubs.” Pinkie cleared her throat and continued, “If you all remember, Tiny is a traveling salesmare. She’s got lots of makeup and mane spray and hoof polish. What you might not know is that she used to work in cinema, as a makeup artist. Making a fake body would be easy. All you needed was a few pillows, sheets, and some makeup, and there you go! A fake murder scene! Just so long as Slate didn't touch it.”
“How did you know she used to be a makeup artist?” Hot Shot asked.
Tiny blushed. “I've been brushing up my resume; it’s in my bunk.”
Pinkie nodded with her tongue sticking out the side of her mouth. “Yeah, your boss isn't too happy with you. Sales are down, and you might get fired. Of course, an extra half a million bits would help. Or were you not planning to split it fifty-fifty with the real engineer?”
“Sixty-forty, actually. I’m doing most of the work,” Tiny replied with a smile.
“Oh,” Pinkie said, as her hair deflated. “I’m really sorry, but that bond is evidence. I don’t think you’ll be able to keep it.”
Tiny’s ears flattened. “Oh, yeah, I guess you’re right,” she said with a deflated voice.
“You know, Felix is going to need a disguise to keep him safe while the court case goes on against Slate. And he’s going to need a new identity once it’s over. Think you can help him with that?” Pinkie asked.
Tiny’s eyes shone with tears. “Of course I can. Do you think there’s some honest bits to be made there?”
Pinkie puffed on her pipe. “I don’t see why not. Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah! Tiny slipped past Whistle Stop with a few supplies and made the fake body here. The engineer must have come in at some point to smoke, and saw what was going on. I’m sure it led to a few questions you couldn't answer, but then you had an idea. Felix needed a place to hide, and the engineer was the right size. Plus, he has a perfect excuse to hide in the engine compartment until the next stop. Then, he just sneaks off, switches his clothes, and Slate is none the wiser. Slate would continue on the train, and you would have a chance to really disappear. Or at least, that was the plan. Sorry,” Pinkie said, shrugging.
Felix shook his head with a smile. “It’s okay. Things seem to be going my way. They always do, eventually,” he said, with a backwards glance to his cutie mark.
“So, Tiny promised to split the bond with the engineer if he agreed to help hide Felix. And it worked pretty well, too. How did you manage to have two meetings with Slate hovering around?” Pinkie asked.
Felix grinned sheepishly. “Actually, that wasn't too hard. Slate didn't stick to me too closely once we got on the train and we were moving. What was I going to do? Jump off a speeding train? All we had to do was meet up in the luggage car and act like we were going through our luggage. Quiet Quill came through once, but other than that, we managed to have a couple of conversations easily enough.”
“You’re a great actress to keep this up the whole time. So, calling you short doesn't even make you angry?” Pinkie asked Tiny.
“HEY!” She shouted back.
“Oops. Okay, sorry. Anyway, the two of you executed the plan once the lights went out during dinner. Felix made the sound effects, and Tiny left the trail of ‘bloody hoof prints.’ You went into the engine compartment, said hello to the engineer, put on a spare set of his clothes, and took his place. He hid under the pile of coal when we came in the first time. Was that part of the plan, too?” Pinkie asked.
Felix smiled sheepishly. “No, that was sheer panic.”
Pinkie giggled. “Welp, I think that about covers it. The rest you know, cause you were there.” Pinkie sighed and blew a bubble on her pipe, staring out the window.
“Something wrong, Miss Detective?” Hot Shot asked.
“Nothing, I just…” she sighed again. “Nothing.”
It wasn't long before they stopped, safely, with the real engineer at the helm. The police were quickly summoned, and Slate was hog-tied, cuffed, shackled, and magically restrained for good measure. He woke up after Felix and Tiny were taken away by the royal guards. They were interested in a number of things Felix had to tell them. Slate blinked a bleary set of eyes and saw the world without his freedom. He could hardly move. With the assistance of two police officers, he stood. “No…” he said miserably.
Pinkie babbled to a detective, while the rest of the group sat nearby on benches, drinking hot chocolate, wrapped in blankets. Slate could hear her, that happy-hyper voice of the pink detective. “I still don’t know where the feldspar went. It’s driving me crazy!”
“YOU—” Slate hollered. “I’ll get you, you dumb mare! Just you wait, I’ll get out of prison and you’ll pay for what you've done!”
Pinkie turned and bounced to him, a smile stretched across her face. It made him furious. “I've just got one question for you… Do you have any feldspar?”
“AHHH— IT’S JUST A COMMON ROCK!” Slate screamed, his mouth frothing with rage. Rocks were his specialty; he came from a family of rock farmers. This mare said she was also a rock farmer, but he didn't believe it. It must have been a trick. She possessed some kind of genius, she had to in order to—
“I found it!” Pinkie triumphantly picked a chunk of feldspar out of Slate’s luggage. “I knew the guilty party had it! Mystery solved!”
~~~~~
“And that’s how I solved the mystery of the missing feldspar. Aren't you proud of me, Daddy?” Pinkie sat at the old oak dining table, surrounded by her family. They looked on during her story with what could best be described as mild interest. Of course, with the Pie family, one could never truly tell.
Igneous Rock scratched his beard and replied, “Thank you, Pinkie. I've always enjoyed your silly stories. I could never make up something like that myself.” The rest of the Pie family nodded and ‘smiled.’ The smiles were only detectable with precision microscopes, but Pinkie noticed.
Pinkie wasn’t smiling. “But it’s all true! And I finished the rock collection! Aren't you proud of me?”
Her father replied, “Of course I’m proud of you. I’m glad you remembered your fillyhood instruction. Feldspar is a common rock that can be found lying on the ground almost anywhere. I just like the way you talk about it, like it’s really special to you. It makes me happy.”
Pinkie’s eyes shifted left and right. “Heh, common rock, found on the ground. Of course…”