//------------------------------// // 4. Sugarcube Corner // Story: Case 109 // by Platinum Noir //------------------------------// Sleep was alluding; it seemed like every hour I was up pacing and trying to find a more comfortable position in my bed. Eventually there was no use by early morning. At least I had killed time figuring out how much time I had actually slept; which was somewhere between forty-six minutes and one-hour and eleven minutes. While there were a cocktail of energy supplements in the medicine cabinet, I didn’t feel like I needed them. There really was no sufficient use for such supplements at this point. Food wasn’t that important either, and neither were the books scattered on the floor, or even the bottles that were still skewed on the floor from last night. At least I could convince myself to brush the barbwire that was my mane this morning; which for the record felt good. After all, the morning routine was no longer routine, it mostly involved pacing, thinking, putting on my saddlebags, forgetting something, thinking, remembering my badge, pacing, forgetting something, and so forth for around twenty minutes. I once again stared at the wardrobe filled with vests and shirts and other work related clothes. To this day, I still remember the chief’s face when he realized I was a mare. A mare got promoted to a special agent? It was a classic case of a stallion dominated workforce having a mare outlier. But the chief’s disgust was quickly morphed into a borderline sickening obsession for me. That was a topic that was not mentioned much, even in a joking tone; much less thought about. Most of the stallions wore mostly black suit vests underneath white buttoned shirts; the classic agent attire complimented by their big ‘ERPD Special Agent’ badge hanging down from their neck. I stared at my own copy of the badge; ‘ERPD Special Agent’ with an etching of the ERPD seal underneath, and at the bottom ‘Twilight Sparkle.’ I managed to slip into the same attire out of a need for pure and basic acceptance by my stallion peers. I had omitted wearing a hat however, simply to make it seem like I wasn’t copying the stallions. And the weapon holster for that matter. It never occurred to me how much the agents loved the gun holster until I reached the special agent tier. Being a unicorn I never needed to learn how to use a gun, or a holster for that matter; or at least was required to. It was seemingly a fashion statement among the whole division; a form of individuality almost. You use a chest or shoulder holster? Do you prefer the mouth trigger or the hoof trigger? It was an enigma almost, a real head scratcher to me at first. Thankfully I didn’t really work alongside or even hang around the other agents too much at this point in my career. I knew them for certain, but we kept our distance and kept the communication to basic chit-chat. Finding my way to a window, I stared outside; I’d expected somepony by now like Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, or really anypony in Ponyville to come blasting my door down expecting answers, security, and/or a reason for the murder. I was to assume it was out of the mayor telling them not too or out of the simple fear that I’d become upset with them. After years of ‘harmless’ ribbing like ‘Oh Twilight’s gonna be at the party tonight, better not have too many kegs’ or ‘don’t set those fireworks off; they’re not legal in these parts’ I’d grown immune and rather coarse to it. It was the life of any cop and his or her friends to embrace the teasing; but to me it felt much more personally hurtful. That aurora could also be a reason for the ponies leaving me alone. The phone rang again with the same call light beckoning to me. One simple magic burst answered the line and placed the phone on speaker. “Ye-es, this is Twilight Sparkle.” I claimed, voice breaking due to the first time speaking today. “Morning Twilight; I expect you’re taking tomorrow off for bereavement purposes?” Iron Mustang asked. His military-esque monotone could startle anypony into submission without knowing the stallion. A weathered veteran of the Royal Guard, and once an officer until a nasty corruption sweep took many ponies like him out. I wasn’t quite sure what exactly the bust caught Mustang doing; I was to assume either drugs or human trafficking. Two scandals the Royal Guard couldn’t quite shake after the media blew the top off it. Mustang got off easy compared to most of his comrades whom were sitting in cells right now; most likely cursing at the stallion in some way. He landed the desk job in exchange for ‘cooperation;’ it was as textbook as a snitch gets. “Yes; that’s correct.” I stated. “Thank you for letting me know.” He sniffed with a hint of what was left of his humor. “The chief advises you head to the crime scene today as the team is wrapping up today.” He continued. “Sure thing; just tell him if he’d like to lead this investigation, he’s welcome too.” I scoffed. “Alright; I’ll tell ‘em you said a hearty ‘thank you.’” He said with a click. “Oh piss off.” I yelped at the now idle phone. Spike was waiting outside my door with a rare cigarette in his mouth, burning away. He held a box of St. Germane’s Full Flavor Blends; ‘domestic and foreign blend tobacco’ the label read. “Is Iron Mustang working his regular shift?” Spike asked with a huff. “Mmhmm.” I hummed, staring at the cigarette with a burning glare. Spike eventually got the message as he glanced back over to me. “Hey! We both smoke occasionally so don’t try and pin the ‘I have a drug problem too’ nonsense on me!” He exclaimed defensively. “Alright mister; but I’ll remember this moment…” I said mysteriously. Spike was going to retaliate, but decided to let it go as he sensed my somewhat content mood. The walk to Sugarcube Corner was slow; ponies who noticed Spike and I gave us stiff glares and worried demeanors as they went about their business. I resumed to a brisk pace when I was done absorbing the monumental glares. “We’ll go the back way, next time.” Spike noted. The rest of the walk felt like hours creeping by until I finally saw the building coming up on us. I attempted to control my stomach from churning as I saw the police tape once again. Heat Lightning and a different officer from before were standing around the tape once more, discussing politics or something of the sort. Heat noticed me and moved the tape out of my way with his magic. “Lazy ass.” His partner muttered. “Oh you’re just angry because you were born a hornless and wingless Earth pony!” He announced as he wiggled his horned head in front of his partner. I kept moving away briskly towards the entrance as I heard a large thump in the background and the sound of somepony falling to the ground. “Oh don’t cry because you were born a weakling, spineless unicorn!” His partner screamed as he laughed hysterically. Beat Watch whom was stationed on the other side of the bakery shook his head in disbelief and disappointment. I hadn’t even realized I had opened the door and was now standing in the threshold of the bakery. My heart quickly entered my stomach as I realized the seriousness of the situation again. You’re not here to buy cakes or see your friend Twilight…a valiant voice shook my head. But it was ‘oh so true,’ you’re here to solve a murder. Spike eventually ushered me inside with a supportive glare. “Ms. Sparkle!” A sky blue unicorn greeted me. “Hello Icy Ashes.” I stuttered awkwardly. He gave me an odd look “Full name? Ouch, what did I do wrong special agent?” He coaxed, with a half-serious tone; accompanied by a sad, tired face. His comrades laughed and cooed quietly. The field agent wore an ERPD-Ballistics hat atop his messy looking mane. His deep hazel eyes could burn a hole straight into any mare’s heart if it weren’t for his wrinkled nose and his over-confident personality. Two features he claimed he couldn’t do much about. He was most-likely the most tenured pony here though, and probably the most skilled as well. “Sorry-sorry Ash.” I recalled. “It’s just-sorry.” His fiery colored mane, which was now standing up by itself recoiled a little bit. “Okay then.” He said plainly. Ash stiffly glanced around the bakery, I followed his eyes go over the mostly empty shelves and tables in the back of the building. But, cakes and other pastries filled the glass paned shelves by the counter and entrance where we were standing. The pastries were apparently untouched by the evil that struck the building days ago. “Right so, reconstruction was our main objective.” He noted, breaking my strangely poetic thoughts. “Let’s get right too it; I know that’s your style Twilight.” “Mm, yes.” I said awkwardly, now realizing that Ash didn’t know the context. “Medical report showed that the body must’ve been moved.” Spike cited. Damn, I didn’t know that, I missed that. Well, I actually didn’t really read much of it. “Righto, which is why we deduced that the victim was kicked, riiiiiight here.” He backpedaled and pointed to the floor. A sickening pain took my body; I suppressed it as best as I could and continued on. Ash was pointing to the threshold between the bakery’s kitchen and a side cabinet which contained numerous party supplies. “She was then dragged through here…” He motioned through the other threshold, which lead from the kitchen to the back room which stored more baking supplies and ingredients “…and was dropped here.” He once more pointed to the threshold that lead out of the room and to a small loading dock outside, and eventually into an alley. “There’s no rhyme or reason; there is no why.” He probed. “Why drag a body from here, to the exit?” Spike repeated. Say something Twilight…Dammit no. “So passerby’s wouldn’t see it?” Spike questioned. “The body was already away from the windows…in fact, there was better chance of someone finding it after they moved her.” Ash’s shrill voice countered. Say something! Spike stared at the blood streak from Pinkie’s original position and followed the blood trail until it ended in a pool by a white rope that was set up to depict her body's final resting place. The blood itself was already soaking into the wood and getting very sticky. “Perhaps the murderer wanted someone to find it…” Spike continued. “But-“ Ash began. “They were going to drag her out into that dumpster.” I spoke quietly, pointing at a large green dumpster; the height of at least three ponies. Ash immediately turned to me to rebound. “No pony could hoist a body into that tall dumpster; not even a pegasus…” He claimed. “That’s why I said ‘they.’” I repeated. “Alright then; please tell me how in the hay you concluded that there were two ponies dragging this body.” Ash challenged. “It’s rather simple really.” I announced. Ash recoiled a bit as his confidence drained from the ‘friendly’ competition. “Look at the blood trail; it’d be smeared if she was dragged. But this trail is a constant, straight stream of blood with just a few drops outside of the stream. So unless somepony hoisted Pinkie over their shoulder like in a fire pony carry; two ponies carried her to the door.” I claimed as Ash quickly stared at the blood trying to ready a counter-attack. “That’s just simple ballistics.” I ended my tirade with a slight tap on Ash’s hat that read ‘ERPD Ballistics.’ Most of the ponies in the bakery were either wearing ‘ERPD Ballistics’ or ‘ERPD Forensics’ with a couple more that wore other specialties. There were about a half-dozen of them lingering around the bakery, but by now they’d all gathered to watch Ash’s ‘demise’. “Well…the blow was to her head, so the blood could’ve been dripping off her…” He failed to end the sentence as he stalked back to the blood trail; keeping me in the corner of his eye. Spike had his eyes trained on the trail as well; confirming my theory. Two ponies, never before have I wanted to be so wrong… “I think you’re right Twilight, the blow was so hard; blood was pouring out at such a rate that’s consistent with the trail’s dimensions.” A bay colored unicorn stated; wearing his white lab coat as he surveyed the blood much closer. I wondered around back towards the front door to look out the window as the rest of team discussed quietly and went back to their stations. I looked around at separate groups of ponies I could see from my vantage point until I eventually found myself staring out the window at the Sheriff, tending to Heat and his partner. Their minor fiasco had apparently bothered him to an angering extent. Spike eventually appeared beside me fiddling with his tail. He followed my eyes out to the sheriff. “Heh, leave it to Ponyville to elect an Apploosian sheriff…” He quietly mused. I continued to stare at the sheriff, but didn’t really pay any mind to what he was actually doing; nor what Spike was saying. Seeing that his new strategy wasn’t working Spike tried to speak again but was interrupted by a chocolate colored unicorn. “Hey forensics, we gotta feather over here!” He exclaimed. All the ponies stopped and gathered around in curiosity. They began shouting and asking questions as the unicorn attempted to control the crowd. Spike quickly turned and joined the fray, joining those who attempted to calm down the team whom were now shouting. “Aight, aight calm down; shesh.” The original unicorn exclaimed in his usual Manehatten accent; named Flash Scope. The team had since turned to me, expecting me to move from my original position by the window across the room. “Can we, get back to it, please?” I replied in a hoarse voice, motioning them to move. “Flash and I will discuss it and whatnot. I’ll let forensics know what to do.” I continued, in an uneven voice. They eventually parted to make room for me to walk up to Flash. However, they really didn’t quite get back to work either. “Soarry, Twi. Probably shouldna yelled it like that.” He apologized, rubbing his neck. Sensing my discomfort, he backed to the door. “The feather is right here, I haven’t moved it yet. I found it under this here box. When yer ready to see it; come on ova.” He said quietly, Spike now joining him to talk. A feather; it was the holy grail of evidence when it came to crime. The murderer might as well have spit on the victim and rubbed his hoofprints all over the scene. It also meant ‘pegasus,’ which narrowed it down to two possibilities considering there were no other suspects than the four we had. One look at the feather, and the colour would be revealed; yellow or blue. It could be some other color, blowing this case wide open. An improbable but hopeful thought; another colour would be my only hope at somehow saving Rainbow Dash or Fluttershy. There could also be an explanation for the feather, after all we always liked to visit Sugarcube Corner, and it could be plausible for a feather to be shed the day before the murder while Rainbow Dash or Fluttershy were helping in the back. It’d never hold up in court though; too improbable. The internal battle brewing inside me was beginning to show on the outside as tears began to well in my eyes and hooves began to shake. I had to do this, just look at the feather for Pinkie Pie. At that point, I had some sort of epiphany. I had never thought of it; or anything involved in this case like that. To do any of this for Pinkie Pie; it was a sick reality really. It was a sick and twisted fate, where avenging your best friend means charging another one of your best friends with her murder. But it had to be done; and not for my sake. The team still hadn’t quite gone back to doing their work; they more so were pretending to work near the feather location, giving long and intuitive glances at me often. The feather was apparently next to the exit door, under a box like Flash Scope had said. A box that was stationed right next to Pinkie's death location. He had since moved the box back to its original position for the CSP to photograph it quickly. This also unfortunately created an unintentional climatic reveal that was sure to come. I began to walk towards the unicorn, taking careful, but full steps. I nodded slightly, and he began to move the box manually with his hind legs. I thought about closing my eyes, but instead stared at the box and silently mused about all the possibilities. Blue, Yellow, another colour, a fake, a griffon feather, a figment of Flash’s imagination; all had some sort of statistical probability. A long, blue feather was revealed in the matter of moments as the box finished its journey sliding across the floor. There was a long deep silence, as I heaved a very slight sigh as Spike gave a nod. Flash was seemingly looking at me for direction, what to do next. Standard procedure was to seal it up, and send it to Regional HQ for testing. All sorts of things could be found out during that process like if the colour was dyed, how old the feather was, when it left the pegasi’s body, and most importantly; DNA. “Seems to me, somepony wanted to hide it. A feather doesn’t just crawl underneath a box.” Spike assured, as I silently thanked him for not saying Rainbow Dash. “It would seem that way…” Flash agreed, adjusting his ‘ERPD Forensics’ hat. “What’re we doing here Twi?” Flash asked, dropping his voice dramatically; eyes darting around quickly. Pretending to not know what he meant wasn’t going to get me very far, and it’d just be stalling. I could brush it off or take it as a serious question either way. He wanted to know if we were about to commit felony spoliation of evidence. I doubted he knew Rainbow Dash, but I assumed he wanted to help me. “Well you’ve already announced it to the entire team so I suppose, do the normal procedure. Let’s see what we got.” I said, trying to instill some humor in my voice. “Make sure to dust that box for hoofprints too.” I queried, with a defeated tone. Flash chuckled nervously for some time, “Certainly.” He answered, as he reached for tweezers and an evidence bag. I turned to survey what was left of the bakery. The team had turned everything over at least twice in search of anything useful; as they always did. Under very normal circumstances, I’d be on the front lines along with them, chasing leads and finding evidence with them; drawing conclusions along the way. Instead, I’d distanced myself from this place for very, very good reasons. There was a part of me that needed to avenge Pinkie Pie and do my job to punish whom was responsible. But there was also another part that claimed that this investigation was wrong in so many ways and I shouldn’t be involved. I had since decided both statements are very correct and would have to guide me through this case. My thoughts once again drowned out as I trudged on; there’d be time for thinking. Ash was seemingly waiting for me to be done with my inner ‘struggle’ by the corridor that led to a medium-sized room near the kitchen. He leaned against the threshold with an inviting pose, motioning me near. “Team leader Icy Ashes reporting, Special Agent Twilight.” He announced, giving a sarcastic salute. “Bite me. I said your full name once, shesh.” I countered. He chuckled lightly as he guided me to a table in the middle of the room, five chairs set around it. “I’m going to assume you’d like to know why we have the suspects that we do right now?” He questioned, his tone rising to peak confidence-level. “That’d be helpful, yes.” I replied sarcastically; which unfortunately only fueled his ego some more. “This paper right here; it’s a list of…ideas I guess. Twilight, they were planning a surprise party for you that night. All five of them signed off on it.” He explained, handing the paper to me. So I suppose he did know the context, he was just being insensitive as always. Levitating it, I read the writing filled paper. ‘Twilight’s Super Special Anniversary Party since Moving to Ponyville (Super DUPER Special).’ Sure enough, all five of them wrote their names with certain ideas they had written under them. It didn’t take an expert; a simple handwriting comparison test could see it was my friends who had written this. It contained Applejack’s stencil, Rarity’s cursive, Fluttershy’s small but neat text, Rainbow Dash’s large and messy writing, and finally Pinkie Pie’s fun and wiggly slanted type. “While we don’t know exactly when the ‘meeting’ dismissed, we can assume it was near the victim’s time of death.” He said, nodding his head. How does a meeting about a surprise party among friends become murder? This case was wrapping up right in front of me so quickly and we had absolutely no motive. Everypony on this team was just treating this as a cold-blooded murder with no consequences. Some anger began to boil over inside me. “Look at this, Ash. These were my friends, planning a party for me.” I spat, shoving the paper near his face. His face dropped a little, clearly getting my message quickly. “Ye-es it is.” He said after a long pause. “Look Twi, you know I’m a conformed bachelor pony. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-“ “That’s the problem; you didn’t mean to do anything about giving me a reason to why my friends killed one of my other best friends! Do you know how many pony’s lives you’re affecting with this case; mine included!?” I screamed, ranting off on a tangent. “Perhaps, if you were here assisting us…you could’ve helped us with the ‘motive’ portion.” Ash asserted, gaining some confidence back. I suddenly paused, he was obviously right in every way; I just couldn’t let him know that. I suppose that he meant well but his insensitivity bothered me to the core. “Look, my job is to help you solve a case, that’s it; and you know I’m one of the best damn ponies in that business around here.” He declared, whipping his hooves around. “Oh so now you’re trying to concoct this into ‘you’re the victim?’” I countered. “I’m trying to say I’m doing my freaking job. Alright?” He lashed, clearly trying to end the conversation. I was silent, staring at him as a foal would stare at its parents after a similarly angering conversation; typically late at night. But I decided to let it go after a full minute of inner feuding. Icy Ashes was certainly a coarse and callous pony, one whose work outweighed his personal and social life. It was a classic story of ‘all work no play,’ which led to an over-confident, zealous, and infuriating Field Agent Ash. ‘There isn’t any fun or love in this profession, so why try and instill some in it?’ was Ash’s favorite quote around a crime scene. To which the other ponies would appropriately reply with something of the likes of ‘I guess that’s why you’re so good at your job’ or something of that level of sarcasm. “Let’s just go, what else?” I eventually decided to say, my eyes narrowing. I was letting him off the hook; temporarily. Ash seemingly was caught off-guard by my suddenly normal tone, but moved on. He flipped through his notes after rebounding them from the floor. “It was seemingly just another day, Pinkie clearly made some stuff, sold some stuff, and just went about her day.” He said as trotted out of the room and looked out to the kitchen. “There are no other real oddities in or around the bakery.” He explained. I noticed Spike had made his way outside to talk with Heat and his partner. "This wasn't a robbery-murder?" I questioned. "Register has exactly 46 bits in it. Tip jar is full too." He said. “What about where the body was found; when Big Mac found her?” I asked. “Yes well, you’ve been…out of the loop I assume. Did you even look at the case files? Notes yet?” He asked tenderly. “I’m not saying-“ “No, its fine, I understand. And no; not really.” I stuttered. “Right. Big MacIntosh apparently found her early in the morning, delivering exactly two sacks of assorted apples via cart.” Ash started, now reading off a paper he motioned a pale yellow earth pony to retrieve. “He noticed Pinkie was laying the threshold, ran up to her, and tapped her leg. He then noticed the blood and the bruising and ran to an officer in town.” He recited. “Beat Watch made the first contact; correct?” I asked. “Yes, I guess he pulled his gun and stalked around the bakery for a couple minutes and called it in after not finding anypony.” Ash pondered. “I questioned both of them, and that adds up.” I replied dryly. Ash looked at me calmly, looking for the next question about whatever I can conjure up. “What about that night’s weather?” I asked. “Clear, calm, and a cool 46 degrees Celsius. If you want more specifics, I can get Droplet to give you the exact wind speed and whatnot.” Ash answered, pointing to a sky blue pegasus after a slight pause. “Just as long as I get the specific reports later.” I answered, with an unintentional bored tone. Ash’s other job was to collect each of the separate reports from each specialty as needed. It mostly consisted of medical, ballistics, forensics, and other reports, and then discuss them in a think-tank setting. It was a job I was not looking forward to in the least. There was a stiff silence in the room, complemented by the slight bustling of the team back inside the kitchen and wherever else they might be. “Look, to be honest we haven’t really done too much to investigate any variables. We’ve been under direct orders to drive the investigation to one of these four suspects.” Ash admitted, head dropping. “Dammit what?!” I replied, suddenly feeling a re-kindling of anger. “By whom?! I am you superior, you take orders from me!” “I wasn’t going to tell you, but then I was going to tell you when you were angry with me back there, but then you kind of…well you looked like you wanted rip my testicles off and feed them to me…” He said, as he stumbled over every other word. “Explain. Now.” I growled. “Look; Regional HQ is under a lot of pressure from the Feds and even the Royal Guard themselves. As I’m sure you’ve heard. They wanna hang whoever did this yesterday. I mean, I know you and Celestia aren’t as close as you were...” He said, voice trailing off into silence as he looked away. “But they’re all worried about the repercussions of an Element of Harmony dying. And believe me; we all got an education on these elements last night.” He continued, voice trying to level. “That’s why Brasshoof is heading me on this investigation I guess.” I spoke dryly. “It’s simple; he tells them I’ve got my best mare on this case and shows you off to them. That keeps the Feds from barging in on this scene and huffing that this case is under Federal control. And I assume your brother is keeping the Royal Guard on a tight leash about this.” He said, giving me look of question. “The Royal Guard can’t even handle a murder case.” I thought aloud. “No, but RGCIC can.” He replied. “The Royal Guard Criminal Investigation Command? They have no jurisdiction!” I said, dismissing the thought. “They’ll make a case, appellate jurisdiction and all that nonsense.” He replied, sounding defeated. “That’s why this case is being done by the book.” I declared, as Ash turned to me finally. I had come to realize we made our way outside and were leaning on the loading dock rail. “Don’t we always?” He probed, a smile appearing on his face. “Mmm, and to answer your previous question, No; I haven’t heard about this witch hunt by Regional.” I said, thinking back to Ash’s previous rant. “It’s rather hush I hear. Especially when you’re around I suppose.” He claimed, rubbing his hairy chin. “I guess I figured you knew this…sorry.” He mused. “Then again, I was instructed not to tell you anything; but what the hay?” He said. I guess it was only fair to half-forgive him for his callous handling of the team's work. But it was no real excuse. Thinking back on the conversation some more I thought about Brasshoof. “So I guess he isn’t as slimy as pony as I thought. He’s not an insane dickhead who wanted me to investigate my own friend’s murder on the spot.” I said impartially. “Well he is; just not in this context.” Ash said with a quick laugh. There was a quick silence, after Ash gave a quick smiling glance at me before turning back to the alley. “So that’s it?” I asked. His face turned back to a neutral, content smile. “Basically, like I said, we’ve only been chasing suspect related leads; we haven’t really dug into her finances, social life, business, traveling, or family related crap.” He admitted. “But you lead the investigation so…and now you’re here…” He suggested. “Give me some more time around here.” I coaxed. “Hey, listen lovebirds. It’s Spike here.” Spike suddenly announced behind us, snapping his claws as he walked towards us. Ash awkwardly moved away half seriously and half-jokingly as Spike moved next to me. “You two looked like old high school crushes re-uniting.” He bellowed inconsiderately. Spike enjoyed poking fun at Ash’s usually unintentional ‘advances’ at the crime scene. However, Ash normally didn’t have the mutual feeling of poking fun. “We had to discuss important evidence and workplace bureaucracy.” Ash announced. “Yeah, yeah, sure ya did Oxymoron; now I think it’s my turn to discuss; whatever it is Twilight here and you were talking about.” He dictated smoothly. Ash’s face soured rather quickly after he heard Spike’s favorite nickname for the unfortunately named pony. Spike quickly shooed him away after another scowl from Ash. I motioned him to go, at least for now. “Twilight, a minor situation for you to handle.” He offered. “The Pie family just arrived out front.”