Rainbow Dash: Private Detective by the Cutie Mark Crusaders

by Shakibone

Tricky

“Yes, it was... my way.”

Sweetie Belle gently lifted the tone-arm off the record as the song she’d put on came to its soft conclusion.

“Well?” She asked Applebloom and Scootaloo “What do you think?”

The Cutie Mark Crusaders had gathered in the tree house to squeal excitedly about Chapter Two getting published in FillyFiction and start writing Chapter Four. But before they’d even put some paper in the typewriter, Sweetie Belle had insisted they listen to an old record she’d found in the attic yesterday while searching her house for anything from “Gangster Times”. She’d played it on the gramophone in her room and immediately fell in love with the scintillating singing that emanated. She knew then that she just had to find a way to fit those songs into “Rainbow Dash: Private Detective”.

“I liked it!” Scootaloo said after a moment “It was cool, but...” she struggled to find a word.

“Classy?” Sweetie Belle suggested.

“Yeah, that’s it!”

“It was alright.” Applebloom said indifferently “So you think we should mention it in the story?”

Sweetie Belle nodded “I think it’ll add tone.”

Whenever there was a question about content to be included in their story, the CMC usually relied on Sweetie Belle’s expertise in the genre, but this time Applebloom remained unconvinced.

“Are you sure it won’t just be distracting?” she asked “And what if the readers haven’t heard these songs?”

“We’ll only mention them casually!” Sweetie Belle begged “Pleeeeaaaseeee? They’re really cool!”

“Besides,” Scootaloo added “most of the story has been based around just cool stuff and how cool that stuff is.”

“Alright,” Applebloom said good-naturedly as she inserted some paper in the typewriter “if you’re absolutely positive it’s cool.”

“Rise and shine, Rainbow!”

Applejack prodded me into semi-consciousness, and I managed to roll out of her bed and onto the floor.

“Still not an early bird, huh?” Applejack had always woken up at the crack of dawn, while I would need plenty of java just to get up before midday.

“Whu’ tim s’it?” I managed to mumble as AJ picked me up off the floor.

“It’s ten in the morning.” She replied “I was gonna wake you up at nine, but you just looked so comfortable I couldn’t bring myself to disturb you.”

I mumbled a cutting remark about the type of pony who wakes up before eleven and in response Applejack dragged me into the shower and turned on the cold water. We had a minor scuffle where I managed to tear the shower curtain in half (just like old times) and then we headed across the street to Greasy Spoon’s diner for some breakfast and my much needed coffee.

Once I had some Joe pumping through my veins I was ready to face the day.

“So what’s the plan?” Applejack asked.

“Well...” I said after swallowing a mouthful of deep fried hay “Basically, we walk right into City Hall and demand to speak with the Mayor.” I took a gulp of coffee.

Applejack stared at me in silence.

“Alright, let’s do it.” She said evenly.

We stared upwards at City Hall, which loomed menacingly above us and all the buildings around it. The Mayor had insisted on renovations as soon as she got into office four years ago, so the once humble hall was now a towering symbol of corruption. I remember thinking at the time what an awful mess it would make if somepony were to fall off.

We entered the gilded halls of City Hall, which were filled with ponies hurrying around with serious expressions. We decided to approach the only pony with a smile on her face: She was the colour of cotton candy and her mane had frizzyness to match. But the thing that caught my attention most was her uniform, judging by which I’d say she was a Private in the Equestrian Military.

“Scuse me, Private,” Said Applejack as she flashed her badge “I’m Detective Applejack, this is my partner Detective Rainbow Dash, we’re here to speak to-”

But the uniformed pony interrupted her:

“Oh, I’m not really a Private! I’m Pinkie Pie!” She exclaimed happily “If I was a Private I’d be Private Pinkie Pie, but I’m just wearing this for the Charity Benefit being held tonight for our courageous colts on the front! I’m the Official Event Organiser, which basically means I’m the head Party Planner! So if I was in the army as well as being Chief Event Organiser I’d be Party Planner Private Pinkie Pie! And If I was organising a private party, I’d be Private Party Planner Private Pinkie Pie! Care to make a donation?”

Applejack and I were stupefied by that excited monologue, and before we realised it we’d already put ten Bits each into the donation tray Pinkie had proffered at us.

“Thanks! Your Bits build barracks and buy bales for our brave boys going to battle!” She giggled “Isn’t alliteration fun?”

We could only stare in stunned silence as the stream of ecstatic words washed over us:

“The charity benefit is going to be so much fun tonight! There’ll be balloons, and streamers, and cake, and punch, and showmares, and Blue Eyes is going to be singing, and the Mayor will give a speech, and it will simply be the best night ever! I’m so excited! Aren’t you excited?”

“Uh... I don’t reckon we’ll be attending...” Applejack said once she realised Pinkie was awaiting an answer “But we were actually hoping to speak with-”

“Blue Eyes!?” I interrupted “Omygoshomygoshomygosh!” Normally I’d try to keep a professional appearance during a case, but Blue Eyes was the exception. I don’t mind admitting to being a fan of his, and his crooning has often provided a soundtrack to my life. “Come fly with me” is always good, “The world we knew” was played nonstop on my gramophone when AJ and I went our separate ways, and “My Way” saw me through the shame of giving up my badge. I was ready to ask Pinkie for more information on the Benefit but Applejack returned to the task at hoof.

“We’re here to speak with the Mayor!” She said resolutely.

I tried to argue, but she simply gave me an annoyed glance.

“Ooh! Is it about the Benefit?” Pinkie asked.

“Actually,” Applejack replied “it’s about a theft. We were hoping she could help us with our enquiries.”

Pinkie Pie looked doubtful.

“Well... She is really busy preparing the Benefit... It is an election year after all...”

“Well this is important.” I said.

“Okay then!” Pinkie replied “She’s probably practicing her speech in her office. I’ll show you the way!”

And with that, Pinkie Pie was hopping along the corridors and up the many flights of steps to the Mayor’s Office at the top of the building, while Applejack and I tried to keep a low profile while also keeping up.

We’d been climbing the apparently endless flights of stairs and twisting corridors for what felt like an eternity when, finally, Pinkie stopped in front of a highly decorated door.

“Chimicherry, cherrychanga, chimicherry, cherrychanga- Oh, we’re here!” She said.

“Thank Celestia.” Applejack muttered to me while Pinkie knocked on the door “I thought she’d never shut up.”

A voice called from within the room:

“Who is it?”

“It’s me, Miss Mayor!” Pinkie Pie called back.

“Ah, Pinkie Pie, enter!”

We entered the office, and were hit by the full force of the Mayor’s ego: Paintings, busts, pictures, and even a life size statue of her decorated the room. Some Beethoofen was playing on a gramophone in the corner and our Great and Powerful Mayor was sitting at her desk, wearing a purple suit that looked like it cost twice as much as all my belongings, and reading through some documents.

“Pinkie, the Great and Powerful Trixie needs you to make sure Blue Eyes has a room at the most prestigious hotel you can find- No, make that the second most prestigious, it’s not like he’s that great a singer.” I immediately decided I didn’t like her. She looked up from the papers levitating in front of her and saw AJ and I “Who the Discord are they?”

“These are Detectives Rainbow Dash and Applejack!” Pinkie replied.

“We’re here to ask you some questions about a robbery.” I said.

Mayor Trixie stared at us for a moment before turning back to Pinkie Pie.

“What did Trixie tell you about bringing ponies to the Trixie’s office?”

“But they said this was important!”

Trixie brought a hoof up to her face.

“Just go get Blue Eyes a hotel.”

“Okie dokie lokie!” And with that, Pinkie Pie bounced out the room.

Trixie looked at us, and you could practically hear the flick of a switch as she turned her charm on.

“Now Detectives, please, have a seat.” She said while moving towards the drinks cabinet “Can Trixie offer you some refreshments?”

“Cider, neat.” I said as I sat down, never one to turn down a free drink.

“Nothing for me,” Said Applejack, who chose to remain standing “thanks all the same.”

Trixie levitated my drink over and I took a sip.

“Good stuff.” I lied. She’d given me the cheapest cider she had, no doubt thinking I wouldn’t notice, which meant she underestimated me, which is always good to know. Or maybe she just had terrible taste in cider, one or the other. But I returned to the business at hoof “We’re investigating a burglary that happened yesterday, Mayor Trixie.”

“Please, ‘Mayor Trixie’ is so formal,” She replied “Great and Powerful Trixie will do.”

“We’ll stick with ‘Mayor Trixie’, if you don’t mind.” Applejack said as she examined the room. Trixie glared at Applejack for a fraction of a second, before her friendly tone came back into play.

“As you wish,” She said “could you hurry this up? The Great and Powerful Trixie is very busy.”

“Yeah, we heard,” I said while taking a sip from my cider and barely avoiding making a face “election season, right?”

“Is there a point to this meeting?” She asked, a sharp edge entering her voice.

“The point, Mayor Trixie,” I replied “is that a member of your cabinet is behind the theft of the Maltese Phoenix. Could cause quite a scandal, this being election season and all.”

No reaction. Very suspicious.

“You can believe whatever you like, filly.” She said levelly “You’re missing the vital ingredient called proof.”

Applejack pulled the letter we’d gotten from Fluttershy out of her coat and held it for Trixie to see. Beethoofen’s 5th Symphony started on the gramophone. It was very dramatic.

“I think you’ll find this letter, ordering the theft of the Maltese Phoenix,” Applejack picked up one of the documents from Trixie’s desk and held it up for comparison “was written on your typewriter.”
The papers matched, especially the skewed ‘P’s. Trixie was very still for a moment, and met our gazes evenly.

“That evidence is flimsy at best.” She said quietly, and perhaps, menacingly “There must be a million typewriters like the one used in my office.”

“And the skewed ‘P’s?” I asked “That’s an awfully specific typeface error. Got an explanation for that?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” She replied, all pretence of friendliness gone “I think that two meddling little foals who don’t know just whom they are dealing with decided to stir up some nonsense. I think that these two meddling foals skewed some ‘P’s on a typewriter in an attempt to smear my good name. And I think every judge in Manehattan will agree with me.”

She stood up, and paced towards us as Beethoofen’s 5th continued to rise to a dramatic crescendo.

“You think you can bring me down? Well you’ve got another thing coming. The Great and Powerful Trixie does not leave until the Great and Powerful Trixie chooses to. You’d to well do get out of my office before I lose my Celestia Banished temper.”

“This isn’t over, Trixie.” I said as I stood up “You cider tastes like tinkle, anyway.”

Before she slammed the door behind us, she decided to get the last word in:

“You’re right about one thing, Detective. This isn’t over. The Great and Powerful Trixie recommends you watch your backs.”

“Well I don’t know about you, but I think she did it.” I said once we were outside.

“Well ain’t that just typical?” Was Applejack’s response “You start investigating a simple robbery, and suddenly it’s turned into a huge conspiracy.”

“That’s Tricky Trixie for you.” I replied “But what I still don’t get is why? If she wants revenge on Rarity or Fancy Pants, there’s got to be a more straight forward way to do it.”

“Trixie’s never been one for subtlety.” Applejack agreed.

“And any money she needs she can just take from the City funds.”

“Besides which, she could never sell the Phoenix in the first place.”

We walked on in silence.

“We’re missing something.” I muttered after a while “Something about the Phoenix just doesn’t add up.”

“I think I can help you with that.” Said a voice coming from a carriage that had pulled up besides us “Or at least, my employer can.”

Applejack and I stopped dead, and stared at the carriage. It was gray and nondescript, with blacked out windows. The door swung open.

“Get in.” The voice said.

“Now see hear, buster,” Said Applejack angrily “we don’t take orders from nopony we can’t see.”

A jet of green flame shot out the carriage door, missing us by inches.

“Yeah... I really gotta insist.” The voice replied “Besides, I’m not nopony.”

A shadow moved from within the carriage, and out stepped a purple and green baby dragon, wearing a white suit, a smooth hat, and a smug expression.

“The name’s Spike,” He said “I’m Number One Assistant to the future Mayor of Manhattan. And she’d like a word with you.”

*****
“See?” Sweetie Belle said as she hovered the last page onto the pile “The songs didn’t get in the way.”

“I guess not,” Applebloom replied “but I don’t think ‘The world we knew’ was very appropriate for Applejack and Rainbow Dash splitting up...”

“Trust me,” Said Sweetie Belle, once again with that knowing grin on her face “it’s very appropriate.”

The Cutie Mark Crusaders cleared up the tree house and started getting ready to go back to their respective homes, but it was as Scootaloo attached the wagon to the scooter that Applebloom realised the Pegasus hadn’t said a word since they’d finished writing.

“Something wrong, Scootaloo?” She asked, worriedly.

Scootaloo came out of her reverie with a start and smiled sheepishly “What? Oh, not really, it’s just that... I don’t get the Maltese Phoenix.”

“What do you mean?” Sweetie Belle asked while she wedged herself in the wagon next to the gramophone “It’s a statue. Ponies want it. What’s not to get?”

“That’s just it,” Scootaloo replied “why would anypony want it? It can’t be sold, we haven’t said it’s very pretty or anything, and I can’t think of any huge conspiracy where the Mayor is involved just to get a worthless priceless statue.”

“It’s just there to drive the story...” Sweetie Belle explained uncertainly “It doesn’t have to actually affect the story... I think...”

“Well what if,” Scootaloo smiled broadly “it did affect the story? Hugely and awesomely!”

The three fillies were silent for a moment.

“What have you got in mind?” Applebloom asked.