//------------------------------// // Impossible Crime is the Best Kind // Story: Wonderful Mechanical: Keen Eye and the Wonderbolt Saboteur. // by Monocrome_Monogatari //------------------------------// “I didn’t know you could get that kind of reaction out of Rivet…” Shine Struck left. “Good luck, you’ll need it” Swift Justice left. “Give him hell, Rivet!” Playblitz left. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret…” Calm Wind left. Like a funeral procession, they one by one laid their parting words, and left. All that was left in this overstuffed casket was me and rivet. Alone. And with that, all the tension I had been carrying, the tension I held for so long I forgot it was there, melted off my shoulders. No more compulsive need to feel like the smartest pony in the room. No more habit of trying to dictate the flow of conversation. No more feeling like every eye was a spotlight trained to me. “Phew…” “….” “Thanks for getting everyone off my back Rivet. Jeez, this place is crazy.” “…” “Still, this is really impressive! I always knew you were meant for big things. Most-likely-to-succeed Rivet… I don’t think a single nickname I’ve given you has been wrong.” “…” “… Rivet, why aren’t you talking?” “I’m waiting.” He said, his words coiled in barely restrained anger. “…For?” “An apology!” “Oh..I thought this sort of thing happened to you regularly?” I couldn’t even look him in the eye as I scratched the back of my head, handing out my weak justification. “I call for you in my time of need, and you immediately embarrass me, give me and my friends the runaround, ditch me, and mess with my stuff!” He yelled at me “To be fair! I didn’t get a chance to mess with your stuff yet, and your friends kind of pulled the runaround on me too…” “hhrrgg…” “Besides, you know I can’t help it…” It’s true. I really can’t help it. One-on-one conversation is one thing, but in a group I can’t help but feel like I’m on the defensive. Part of my word games is wanting to dig deep and know ponies' true faces but, part of it is just me acting like a cat, arching myself to look big and flashing claws. It’s not my fault, I’m the victim more than anyone el— “As if that’s any excuse!” As if reading my mind, Rivet broke me out of my embarrassing self-justification. “I thought you said you were getting better about this!” he continued. “No, I said I was getting better AT it.” “AUGH!” No, I shouldn’t make excuses, even if they’re true. If I’m going to do wrong, I should relish it unashamedly. Besides, even if it’s born from a flaw, there’s a unique thrill in being hated. “Maybe calling you here was a mistake…” Rivet mumbled. I sighed “You’re right, you’re right…” “About?” He asked, voice equal parts accusative and skeptical. “Well, first off, you’re right about it being a mistake to call me here. It’s a mistake to call me to most places. Even if I’m retired, the detective is cursed to have misfortune and turmoil follow him through each installment of his story.” “You say that like you don’t cause it half the time.” He deadpanned. “Secondly, you’re right about deserving an apology. Sorry that I’ve been messing with you… however, I offer no apologies for anyone else I’ve messed with here. Why should I have to apologize to ponies I barely know?” I played indignant. He groaned. “Close enough… still, you’re right about this being an impressive place to work.” He took a fond look over his creations. “I’m really hoping I’ll be here for a while…” “I’m really jealous. Of course, I’ve been jealous of you since the day I met you.” “You always used that excuse when making fun of me.” “And I meant it every time.” I pat his back. “It looks like you’ve found a pretty good menagerie of bullies to replace me with. Your cute looks sure attract dangerous types.” “Yet another thing you’re jealous about.” “Yeah…do you think you could ask them to pick on me more?” “…No. That’s weird.” We both couldn’t help but laugh, both at the cheap jokes, and at the complete joke that was our friendship. C’est La Vie. “So now that we finally have some alone time…” “This better not be a setup for a dirty joke.” “I was GOING to say that we should finally catch up. I didn’t worm my way into a NDA with Spitfire for no reason.” “Could have fooled me.” “Of course if you WANT to just exchange dirty jokes…” His response was to throw a paper ball at me. “Point taken.” I said. And so two foul-wheather friends sat down and shared stories. Stories of meeting heroic Wonderbolts and making new friends, of rising in the ranks, of working overtime on putting together the tests for new recruits, from elaborate obstacle courses to simulated dragon attacks to even a surreal mystery house. “Ohhhh, I wanna try that one.” “No, you really don’t…” He trailed off awkwardly. “You don’t think I could handle it?” I asked. “It’s not that…it’s just it’s not a very standard mystery…” “That makes me want to try it more. The work of amateurs can sometimes create new conventions no one had thought of before! Of course it can also be a mess.” “It’s your funeral...” He rolled his eyes. We shared stories of struggling to establish a painting reputation, and being stuck selling works on street corners, stories of being dragged into incidents like an impossible moving closed room murder in a manehattan hotel elevator, or a disappearing act at an illusionist’s conference where a trick had been sabotaged to remove the re-appearance step. “Wow…you never really retired, did you?” Rivet asked, wide eyed. “I’m here aren’t I?” I grimaced. Eventually we ran out of stories of any importance, and resorted to telling petty stories of our day to day lives. “And then Silver yells, ‘ARE YOU STUNT FLYING OR DOING BALLET?!” “Hahaha… Shame that it wasn’t ballet though. Doubt any of your elites are tough enough to keep up with The Nutcracker” “What? But Silver does that every day!” I was shocked that Rivet would make that kind of joke. “…Wow, you’ve sharpened up last time I saw you!” He blushed at the praise. “It’s hard not to when you’re surrounded by sharp ponies.” “Huh? And you never inherited any sharpness from me? Am I not sharp? I’m offended Rivet!” “Oh, uh, um…I mean…” I broke out laughing. “Sharper, but not sharp enough~” I teased. And soon we even ran out of stories, and had no choice but to talk about the job I was here for. “Well, we’ve got most of our exposition out of the way, and are finally on the same page, let’s get to the meat of the story.” Let’s start talking mystery. “To be honest, I’m kind of disappointed.” I began. “I mean, It’s right there in Dine’s 7th. ‘There must be a corpse, and the deader the better. No lesser crime than murder will suffice.’” He facehoofed. “One, I know that you’ve tackled lesser things than murder. Two..." His eyes took a bit of a manic sheen for a moment. "my work is more important than my life. Each machine might as well be a corpse.” “That sentence would sound depressing coming from anyone other than you.” I joked. “No need to be so dramatic over a small probation! Back when I was official I got suspended plenty of times!” “So you know about what’s happening?” he asked, before my words caught up with him, and his brows furrowed “And it isn’t just a probation! First, Its a permanent mark saying that I endangered ponies! That will follow me! Second, and much more importantly, whoever is doing the sabotage is still out there! There might be another accident!” “Alright alright.” I waved my hooves complacently. “Anyway, I got the gist from Ratchet. You passed her trio on your way in. You probably want to tell your version though.” “No, I trust that her word’s good enough.” “Huh?” I gaped. “Rivet are you feeling alright?” “What are you looking at me like that for? I work with her regularly. She’s smart and dependable.” He spoke of her like a pony would speak about a favored employee at a shop, with the limited fondness such meetings would allow. Does Rivet not care that she hates his guts? Does Rivet even know that she hates his guts? Something tells me I shouldn’t rock this boat… “Well, she had to leave before I could learn everything from her, so I still have plenty of questions.” “Fire away.” I threw the paper ball back at him. “Very funny….” Rivet groused. "So, to make a long story short, three training machines malfunctioned while recruits were using them, and you’re the one they’re holding responsible. You, however, claim that someone tampered with them after they were set up. Correct so far?” “Right.” He nodded. “It’s why I had to call you. Since no one sees this as a crime, I can’t get an official investigation.” “So I’m the last resort. Wow. I’m flattered.” I said, ears and eyebrows flattening. “Whatever…so what’s the window of time the saboteur would have to work?” “Unless we’re pressed for time, like when we’re recruiting new members, we set up the courses at night. We finish at around 10:00 p.m., so they have from then until the 6 a.m. wake-up call.” “Do you have anything that might be proof of tampering? Aside from the malfunctions themselves of course.” “Just one thing. On the outer paneling, the metal is very slightly discolored around the screw holes. I don’t know what it means though.” “Can I see them?” I asked. “The machines?” He looked down and sighed. “No, I’m afraid not. Since we’re so pressed for time and resources, most of the parts have already been reused in other things. I still have the panels though” he pointed to several sheets of metal laying along the wall. The first thing I noticed was how surprisingly thin they were. You would think that, with all the high speed flying exercises they do there, they would want something a bit more resistant… “They’re tougher than they look.” Rivet said, reading the incredulity on my face. “I could go for something thicker, but that would increase the weight and cost too much. Besides, it’s not the panels but the frame itself is taking the impact. That’s the important part.” I nodded at this, and turned my attention to the screw holes. True to rivet’s word, the metal around each one was slightly darkened. It was too consistent to be a coincidence, but not large enough to be a sign of anything conclusive. “When did you notice these?” “It was after the dizzy-tron incident” His face tightened up at that. “I thought it was just mistakes until then. Stupid stupid stupid…” He had real pain in his voice. “Don’t beat yourself up too much about it. Some, but not too much” I said. “After all. Once is an event, two’s a coincidence, three’s a pattern.” I put down the panels, not seeing anything else of note with them. “What’s the security here like?” He took a moment to answer. “Depends on where you are.” He said “Spitfire has been trying to loosen up the atmosphere here, even turning a blind eye to office prank wars. Having guards around every corner would be counterproductive to that. The security outside, building to building, is good, but inside it’s easy to sneak around.” “Have the malfunctions been all indoors?” “Now that you mention it…yes. Normally the dizzy-tron would be used outside, but it was easier to set up the safety nets for the test indoors, so we moved it to the auxiliary gym.” I rolled the implications of this info around in my head. “So either the culprit has been sneaking their way through the biggest layer of security, or the culprit is in the compound…” “What? No, it can’t be the last one…” he said. “Why would anyone here do this? It doesn’t make sense.” I laughed and shook my head. “Rivet, Rivet, Rivet… I’ll let you in on a little secret. Something doesn’t have to make sense for it to happen. Really, the types who want everything to fall into their narrow preview of ‘sense’ are really the worst.” I spat at the ground. “Don’t do that! What’s wrong with you?!” He rushed for a canister of disinfectant wipes on his desk, only to find the contents empty “Augh!” He turned to see I had used the moment to steal his much comfier seat. “AUGH!” “So.” I continued, ignoring his outburst. “It’s only been recruits that have been affected by these malfunctions, right? No sign of anything happening to the elites?” He took a few deep to calm himself before answering. “…None.” “It seems that the only recruit squads that were hit were squad foxtrot and squad charlie. Do you know anything about them that might connect them to this?” “Do you think they’re being targeted?” His voice took a much more worried tone. “I’m thinking a lot of things.” “I…really don’t know.” From the sound of it, old insecurities about not being sociable were coming up. “Foxtrot is new, I don’t think anyone would have a grudge with them. As for Charlie…Charlie is kind of a loner squad. They keep to themselves.” “Ratchet’s words made it sound like only you could have been the last one to touch the machines. What makes her think that?” “It has to do with those cases.” Rivet pointed to the glass case full of screwdrivers. “I was wondering what that was. Why do you keep screwdrivers under lock and key?” “It’s an anti-tampering security system I implemented. It’s supposed to keep this very thing from happening” He stomped. “So whoever is doing this is using your security system against you? How does it even work?” He flew over to a small container of screws, and threw one to me. “Notice anything about these screws?” It took me a moment to get it. The head was wider than normal, almost a bit wide. Enscribed on the top was not a plus or a minus but… “Is this an M?” He facehoofed again. “It’s supposed to be a W…you know… for ‘Wonderbolt’.” “I knew that. I was just testing you.” “Right… anyways, these screws are what we use to affix the paneling to our larger machines. They can only be opened by these screwdrivers.” Now that I look closer at them, they looked like flathead screwdrivers, if the heads had been bent to resemble a crinkle cut. “We got an exclusivity deal with a manufacturer, Kinetics Industries. They only send these screws and screwdrivers to us. It has it’s downsides though. Work almost ground to a halt when the last shipment was a week late.” “Can’t they be removed using magic?” “Unicorn telekinesis is tricky, or so I’ve heard. The smaller an object is, the easier it is to move, but the harder it is to deftly manipulate. No one here has the finesse to carefully undo one of these with just their horns, trust me I’ve seen them try, and if they tried to rip them out then the metal would be visibly bent. No one here knows enough magic to teleport them out of the holes either.” “So the punch-card reader is to make sure no one but the engineering staff can access the screws?” “Correct. Each engineer is given a unique card, and at the end of the day the cases print out who opened the cases, when, and how many screwdrivers they took or returned.” “How does the machine know the amount of screwdrivers taken?” Rivet pointed to the hooks in the case. “The hooks they’re resting on are weight sensitive. If it has no weight on it, or if the item is 0.1 grams too light or too heavy, the machine marks the screwdriver as missing.” “Oh…” I began to closely examine the case, looking for cracks, visible screws, gaps in the glass, anything that could be used as an opening. I couldn’t see a thing. It was even bolted to the wall. “Let me guess, on the days the machines failed, the records showed you were the last one to access the screwdrivers?” “Right.” “So, if there’s a saboteur, they not only have to get around the security between buildings, but the security layer of the screws, the security layer of the punch card reader and the glass case, and the security layer of the weight sensitive hooks” In other words, an impossible crime. “Haaah… What a pain…” I said that, but my grin betrayed my words. I was getting excited. “You do know that my hooves are pretty tied, right? I don’t have any official authority and, according to the Wonderbolts, a crime hasn’t officially happened. I’m only here as a guest for a few days. I can’t exactly maneuver much.” “That’s strange… the old Keen Eye would have taken that as a challenge.” He goaded me on. I wanted to say that I wasn’t the old Keen Eye, that the old Keen Eye had faded away and I was just a poor replacement. I wanted to say that, but I got caught up in the excitement. I could only laugh. “Alright. Alright. Get your friends back in here and tell them to find a copy of today’s training schedule.” “Why do you need that?” “Knock’s 1st: The criminal must be someone mentioned in the early part of the story. I’ve yet to meet everyone involved, and what better way to meet the recruits than to see them in action?”