//------------------------------// // Moriarty // Story: Adventures in Homeownership with Sunny Skies and Dusky Sparks // by Honey Mead //------------------------------// Adventures in Homeownership with Sunny Skies and Dusky Sparks: Moriarty Dusky stared up at the three-story, multi-windowed, tile-roofed gothic mansion, and all she could think was that ‘it fit’. It exuded the sort of menace she’d expect from a comic book villain, somepony who wanted everyone to know they were evil. The flash of lightning in the background didn’t help. He was in there, waiting for her. Near the entire Manehatten police force was with her, surrounding the building and all possible escape routes. The Commissioner stood at her side, a thick, pungent cigar gripped between his teeth. He chewed the end, puffing fitfully as they watched for any signs of life. “Ya sure about this, Dusky?” the Commissioner asked, rolling the cigar to the other side of his mouth. “No.” He nodded but said no more as Dusky started toward the front door. She could feel the weight of every officer’s gaze, watching her cross the lawn. This was it, the culmination of months of investigations. The greatest criminal Manehatten had ever known was in that house, and Consulting Detective Dusky Sparks was going to be the one to bring him in. The moment she climbed the first step to the front door it creaked open. She hesitated, but only for a second, quick to brush off her nervousness and adding purpose to her stride. Once inside, it was obvious where he awaited her, an orange glow flooding into the hallway from the last room on the left. The hardwood clicked loudly beneath her hooves, echoing through the empty house. When she reached the doorway she was greeted by a sight that, once again, was so cliched it set her back teeth on edge. It was all too perfect. The twin wing-back chairs. The small side table set between them. The lamp, its shade low enough to ensure that light would never reach above a pony’s shoulder. The crackling fire giving everything an orangish tint. Only the cup of tea seemed out of place—a glass of brandy or scotch would have fit better. “Good evening, Detective Sparks,” came the aged, raspy voice from the left chair. “Professor Moriarty,” she replied, her voice as neutral as she could make it. “Please, sit. Would you like a cup of tea?” “No.” Sparks made no move to enter the room further. “It’s over, Professor. You’ve lost and the best thing you can do is give up.” “Of course, my dear. Do you think I would be here if I did not heartily agree? You have won, a feat you should be most proud of indeed.” The professor’s golden aura lifted the small porcelain cup, sipping loudly once before returning it to the saucer. “Never have I found so worthy an opponent as the one I found in you. Please, sit, there is no reason that we can not speak civilly, and you must have questions.” Sparks stepped around the chairs but did not sit, getting her first look at the professor, for all that she could see of him. He was a unicorn, white coated wearing a sharp tweed jacket. Of his cutie mark, she knew it to be a representation of the ‘golden ratio’. None of his head was visible, not that she needed to see him. She knew his look, had studied his picture for far too many hours not to fill in what the shadows hid. “You are right. I do have one question.” “Oh? Only one? I am uncertain how to feel about that. Is it because you have figured everything else out or are you in fact far duller than I’d thought?” Sparks ignored the jab. “Who are you?” Moriarty hesitated, it was almost imperceptible, but she’d been looking for it. “What an odd—” “Don’t bother trying to deny it. You did a wonderful job, creating this persona. For a time, I even believed it, but there is no Professor Moriarty, there never was. So I ask again, who are you?” The pony who would be Moriarty… grinned? “Bravo, Detective. Most impressive.” “You don’t deny it?” “Why should I? It won’t make any difference. But that still leaves the question of just who I am beneath this facade. I’ve read all about your exploits, and I am keen to witness your fabled reasoning in action. So tell me, Detective, who am I?” “No. Either you answer now, or the police will drag it out of you.” “Hardly. I could leave anytime I wished. You think this is a trap? No, Detective, this is a negotiation. You give me what I want, and I give you what you want. Now, tell me who I am.” Sparks was not foolish enough to take his threats lightly. She’d seen the evidence of his abilities, both magical and cognitive. “The obvious answer is a changeling.” Moriarty started to interrupt, but Sparks didn’t let up. “That is obviously not the case. Even ignoring your magic aura, you have no close associate nor have you garnered any love by your deeds. “Discord would not play a single part for so long, nor would his schemes be so methodical. I briefly considered an alchemist, but we found none of the necessary components in any of your hideouts.” “Ah, but you have yet to search this one.” Sparks nodded. “True, but the amounts required… no, it’s simply not feasible. You must be a unicorn, and a talented one at that.” “Why thank you.” “Well connected too,” she continued, ignoring his comment, “to craft so flawless a persona. A magically adept noble with far too much time on their hooves. There are only so many ponies who could fit.” “Are you stalling?” Dusky ignored him again, her mind already sorting through the list of possibilities. It was a simple matter of elimination, and one she’d done more than a few times before. And once more, she came up empty. There was no pony who could have done everything Moriarty had… except, perhaps herself… Dusky’s jaw dropped. “Tia?” Moriarty smiled, a real smile, one filled with warmth and pride. Sliding from the chair, Celestia stepped forward and drew Twilight into an embrace. “I knew you would figure it out. I am so proud of you!” “But… but… No!” Twilight pushed her away, retreating back so she could look Celestia in the eye. “No! Celestia would never do all those things! She—” “What things?” Celestia asked, her voice light with that ‘I know something I’m not saying’ tone that drove Twilight wild. “The robberies. The extortion. The fraud and, and all the other laws you— he broke!” “Oh, that was half the challenge. Manehatten is full of such wonderful actors, and the police department was ever so helpful.” “Are you saying it was all fake? That I spent the last six months chasing a phantom? But there were crime scenes!” “All expertly staged by the best Manehatten has to offer… with some of Applewood’s movie crews flown in for support.” Celestia’s voice shifted, becoming serious. “More importantly, you were not chasing a phantom. You were chasing me. And you were the first to find me. I could not be more thrilled to have lost.” Pacing, Twilight struggled to take all of that in. It was insane, completely and utterly insane. The amount of work required, the number of ponies involved, the histories and paper trails. It… “The first? You mean you’ve done this before?” “Well, not this specifically. Luna’s was a cult back in the five hundreds. I had to cut hers short when she started to take things a little too seriously. For Cadance I set up a wonderful conspiracy full of spies and politics. She came so close to figuring everything out too, but decided that it was all in her head after the third month, quite disappointing actually.” Twilight stared at her for a moment, completely dumbfounded. “I remember that. Mom and Dad had to hire a new foalsitter because Cadance and Shining were never available. She was horrible.” Celestia’s head drooped. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” She was quiet for a few seconds, then peeked up. “You aren’t mad, are you?” “I…” Twilight started, prepared to be furious, but found something far worse. “The last few months have been wonderful. I felt useful again. Now you tell me that I’ve been wasting time… playing a game?” Celestia recoiled. “What? No, my love. You have not been wasting your time. You solved half the real cases the M.P.D. had. I made sure that ‘Moriarty’ didn’t keep you from doing real work.” “But why do it at all?” “Because you were bored.” “I… I was?” Twilight asked, not even sure if it was supposed to be a question. “You were. You were so good that no real case could hold your attention, and I hated to see you like that. I thought you would enjoy the challenge.” Twilight was fell quiet, her head dropping to stare at the floor while she thought. She thought about her first two months working with the police, the cases they sent her way and how quickly she’d solved them. She thought about the months that followed, where she dispensed those cases even faster so she could focus on the ones where she suspected something more sinister, eventually evolving into Moriarty. “I did. It was fun, exciting even. It’s just kind of depressing to find out that it was all staged. And now that it’s over…” Twilight sighed. “Over? It’s not over yet.” Twilight’s head snapped up. “Wh—what?” Sunny Skies put on a coy grin and held up her hooves. “I’ve been a very naughty pony, haven’t I? I need to be punished…”