Starlight Over Detrot: The Detection Chronicles

by Daemon McRae

Outside Looking Away

Chapter 12: Outside Looking Away

Longarm had taken himself into another room while he made a couple of calls about our going to the Vivarium. I assumed one was to his lawyer about a Will and Testament. Or maybe he just knows two guys named Will and Testament who are lawyers.

Which makes more sense than it should.

Either way, I was left to my own devices while he made all the right calls to all the right ponies so that all the wrong ponies didn’t snap our spines like twigs for going where we were going. Not that that included anypony... or thing, we were going to run into upon our arrival, but I like to think he was doing his part to help us get there with enough life left in us for them to have something to threaten if things went wrong.

It had been a while since I’d done anything similar to what a normal job entailed, such as interviews, snooping about, and generally making an ass of myself, so I was excited to have some sense of normalcy about things, for once.

Of course, given that I was about to go snooping about and making an ass of myself in the Vivarium, normal wasn’t exactly on the menu, but I could see it from here. I dug under my sofa for a wide, sorta-flat lockbox, something akin to a travel trunk cut in half, and dragged it into the middle of the room. I punched it open with an abusive swing, and watched it bounce a little as the lid popped. Longarm poked his head out of a doorway to investigate the noise. “...right, Telly. Thanks. And take care of yourself. Remember what I said. Yes he’s here. He says hi. Hi. Ok, bye.”

“She hung up after ‘Take care of yourself,’ didn’t she?”

He sighed and dropped the phone back in it’s cradle. “Yeah. So... what the hell is all that?” he asked, waving a hoof at the now-open footlocker.

I gave him a small smile, as some of the joy in my work surfaced a little. It was nice to have something familiar to fall back on considering everything else seemed bound and determined to fuck that up sideways. “This...” I said, pausing dramatically, and burying my muzzle in the box. I tossed a few things on the ground behind me, “...is my kit!” I finished. I resurfaced with a burlap bag in my mouth, and spat it out.

“Your... kit?” Longarm eyed me warily.

I nodded. “Yeah, you know, like you have your badge and gun and vest and stuff? I have all this. Well, not all at once. It’s more like a kit for making kits. A kit-kit.”

“...Paperweight really has her hooves full with you, doesn’t she?” he sighed, his expression deadpan and not very amused at all.

“...Yes. Yes she does. Anyway. I’ve got my hoodies,” I picked out a brass-tinted brown zip-up from the pile and tossed the rest back in. My mom always told me I had the coloration of a nightstand, and the only thing that’d look good with it was something the same shade as a drawer handle. I threw it on, checked the pockets for strays, and started loading it up. “My camera,” I got ready to put that one into my pocket, then thought better of it. Not something I’d want to have on me when I get frisked. “Some spare cash, a toolkit, a light, a lighter, a knife, deck of cards, a bag, and a couple of radios.”

Longarm peeked into the box, mildly curious. “Do you have any rope in there?”

I rummaged through, and found a length of the stuff, throwing it over my shoulder. A small “oomph” behind me told me I’d hit the other detective with it. “Yes. Yes I do. If you’d like to take it with you feel free, but I’m not carrying it around myself.”

I looked around in time to see him pull it off his face and drop it to the floor. “Why’s that?” he asked, looking at it, and back to me, or more specifically, the hoodie I was currently loading with small items. I’d decided to take everything I’d listed except the radios, setting those aside.

“Well, mostly, because I don’t want to walk around with a really big bag, nor do I think I could hide it anywhere it won’t get found when I’m searched. All the stuff I’m taking, even if they do find it, they can’t really complain, or at least, it won’t get us kicked out,” I explained.

“Even the knife?”

“Especially the knife. The Vivarium is a safe haven of sorts for certain ponies, protected by a bunch of knife-wielding maniacs. The surrounding part of town, however, will just as soon kill you as look at you. So walking around or into the Vivarium ready to protect yourself won’t get you anything more than a raised eyebrow. And carrying anything less than a machete, they’d just as soon laugh at you before they considered you a threat. It’s when you start carrying stuff as big as or more so than said machete that they start raising eyebrows. Recording equipment is also a no-no.” I stuffed the rest of my materials back in the box and shoved it in its hiding place as I talked. As a last measure, I rooted through the cupboard and brought out a stash of jerky, sliding that in an inside pocket.

“The hell is that for?” Longarm asked, taking a step back.

I smiled at him, revealing the sharpened teeth. “If I get peckish. It’s also easier to intimidate people with the fact that you eat meat than you think. One of the reasons nopony particularly likes griffin bodyguards.”

He stuck a tongue out, making a face. “Blech. Whatever, just... don’t chew on it while we’re getting there.”

“Pffft, baby.”

-----------------

Of course, getting to the Vivarium isn’t exactly the easiest thin. I mean yes, it’s not hard to stroll right up to the line to get in and wait like a good little pony, but the parts of town you need to work through to get there, unless you have somepony crazy enough to drive you straight through some of the more unsavory forms of traffic, both pedestrian and not, is something akin to weedwhacking with a pocket knife. It’s arduous, not a lot of fun, and takes a level of caution most people in my line of work either have in spades or not at all.

I like to think I’m somewhere in between. So do most ponies in the “not at all” category.

While the outlying area of the “red light district” the Vivarium warehouse found itself in was indeed a suburb, albeit a rather disconcerting one, the district itself was several blocks of things you’d rather not think about selling things you really shouldn’t need. And that’s just what they advertised in the storefronts. I caught a glimpse of an inflatable sheep and pointedly stared somewhere the hell else.

One of the two major saving graces in this journey was the fact that one of us was carrying a badge. And not a cheap plastic one. Most ponies will walk around a cop, or cross the street. You might not get lot of answers just waving a badge around callously, but you’re at least more likely than not granted some room to walk.

The other grace, the phone call Longarm made to Telly, wasn’t as obvious. But we could see signs of ponies and other folk making room where normally we’d have to talk our way through or go around. There are a lot of undercover cops in this area, not a lot of whom are that far separated from the rolls they play. But a good phone call at the right time from the right pony, and they can at least make a hole for you without blowing your cover. Something as simple as a “gangster” mentioning to his friends that they have someplace else to be, or that they’re hungry, can make the difference between a creepy back ally and a creepy back alley with a mugger.

And Telly knows literally everyone within reach of her radios.

Of course, that’s not to say the trip was without incident. Not even halfway between my apartment and the nightclub we were en route to, a rather large pony, neon red with a dyed silver mane, stepped out of an unlit doorway to stand in front of us. I saw Longarm reach for his gun, and held a hoof out to stop him. “So what business do a cop and a cuddlebuddy have in a place like this?” His voice was deep and accented, very obviously from further south. While the area wasn’t necessarily prone to outbursts of crime and random acts of violence, it was the kind of place somepony could find all the less favorable kinds of sex, if they knew who to ask. And a place like that needs ponies more than willing to do less than favorable things.

Longarm spoke before I could. “Why is it any of your business? And what makes you think stopping a cop in the middle of the street is such a great idea?”

He smiled at us, that big, creepy smile somepony who thinks they’re invincible always gives you right before the guy behind you pulls out the knife. “Well, it just so happens, I’m in the market for a cop right now. You see, I’m about a hundred percent sure there’s a UC somewhere in my merry gang of cohorts, and I think you’re going to help us fish him out.”

I looked at Longarm, who was snarling something under his breath at our... roadblock, and had to facehoof. I slid my hoof down my muzzle and gave an exasperated sigh as I looked back at the wall of meat. “You really are an idiot, aren’t you?”

The neon stallion growled at me. “What’d you say?” Longarm just looked at me like I’d gone crazy.

“I said you’re an idiot. You stopped us because you think he, or we, are handlers, right? Come on. Do you really think a handler would go around flashing gold in the middle of the street? Since when do Equicide detectives handle UC’s anyway? Informants, maybe. But they’re sure as shit not about to walk into enemy turf and ask for the guy by name in full armor.”

He raised an eyebrow at me, and studied Longarm. “You’re Equicide?” the detective nodded. “The hell are you doing out here? I ain’t seen any crime scenes around.”

It was Longarm’s turn to talk. “We’re on our way to the Vivarium.”

Biggie raised his eyebrows. “Hey, far be it from me to get in the way of a couple of... ‘gentlecolts’ looking for entertainment. I don’t have any beef with cops that chase killers. I ain’t got any bodies lying around.” He waved us off and we walked past, sparing him a look over our shoulder every couple of steps.

We made our way a few blocks down before Longarm looked to me. “How’d you know he wouldn’t bother an Equicide detective?”

“I’ve walked around here before, doing some less than savory jobs. Been mistaken for an undercover handler a bunch of times. Unless they think they can get something out of you, most criminals won’t actually bother a cop too hard. There’s only two reasons to harass PD out in the open: undercover cops, and organized crime. And he looked a little less than organized,” I added, sparing a glance over my shoulder just in case I was wrong. “On top of that, somepony that eager to see an Equicide detective walk the other way usually has a corpse or two lying around. They’d only report a body to the cops to get in somepony else’s way.”

He gave me a sideways glance, just as the Vivarium was coming into view. It bothered me just a little that I was within walking distance of that kind of establishment. I really ought to move upmarket. “Something tells me you know a little more about being a criminal than a cop, Spy.”

“No more than I think I need to.” Thankfully, he didn’t ask me what that meant before we got to the club.

-----------------

The warehouse that comprised the front door of the Vivarium was easily recognizable and almost counted as a landmark to some ponies. It was surrounded on all sides by purveyors of all things bad for you, and stood as a proud monument of not giving any fucks.

The door itself, while sporting a long line, was guarded by a large brutish minotaur. The kind of wall of muscle that made our previous conversational acquaintance look like an emaciated Chihuahua. I stayed a step behind Longarm as we approached, and he whipped out his badge. “Sir, I need to ask you to step out of the way. We need to talk to one of the employees here.”

“That’s not going to work...” I muttered under my breath. I threw my hood over my face before the big guy, who I knew personally as Minox, AKA “Oh god get him off me”, could take a good long look.

Longarm ignored me, as did the minotaur. Instead Minox asked gruffly, “Joo haf warrant?”

Longarm looked to me. I shrugged. “No,” he said. “We’re just in the middle of an investigation, and somepony here has turned up as a person of interest.”

“Investigate? Vat joo investigate here?” his eyes narrowed, and I could already feel my spine trying to run away, well ahead of the rest of me.

Unfortunately, my spine did, in fact, remain perfectly in place, as I apparently found enough of it to interrupt. I held up a hoof to cut off Longarm again, a habit I could tell was starting to get on his nerves. The minotaur looked to me, and his eyes grew wide and angry when I dropped the hood. “JOO. Vat joo doing here?! Ve said leaf!” He reached a log-sized arm for my throat.

I half curled up in a ball, and all but screamed out, “We’re trying to save After Glow’s life!” My eyes were screwed shut, so I couldn’t see his reaction, but I wasn’t dead or dying at the moment, so I figured I’d gotten his attention. I risked a glance in his direction, and saw him stopped, mid- reach, with a confused expression on his face. “Joo... vy joo know Avter Glow? She not talk to ozer ponies, ekzept Svift. And ozer law pony. And Stilletos.”

Seeing as how he wasn’t going to kill me right away, probably more out of confusion than anything else, I explained as quickly as I could our serial killer problem. “And if she thinks the security here can protect her, which under any other circumstances I wouldn’t doubt, there’s one victim on the list that should have been just as well-protected.”

Minox crossed his arms as I talked and gave me a disbelieving huff. “And who is dis dat is so vell protected?”

I stared him in the eye with what little confidence I had, born mainly out of knowing I was right: “Absolutia is dead.”

His expression was a mixture of hard to read emotions. “Ze bank pony? Iz dead?”

Longarm, cuing himself in on the conversation, stepped forward. “Yes. And we have reason to think that After Glow and a bunch of other really important ponies are next on the list. Or are already dead. Somepony’s trying to take down the city around our ears. And even if After Glow stays standing, the Vivarium won’t have a city to thrive in if it all comes crashing down.”

He glared hard at both of us, and gave a big angry sigh I could feel from the floor. “Vine. Joo go see Avter Glow. But joo go through zecurity virst.” He explained, grinning wickedly at both of us. Or me. Probably just me.

Comments

[BlueNinja]

getting to the Vivarium isn’t exactly the easiest thin.

Is it the easiest fat?

I caught a glimpse of an inflatable sheep

Heh, a friend of mine got one of those for his 21st birthday (and no, I didn't buy it for him).

[Khym Chanur]

I wonder if the line in Barrel's notebook about Afterglow was a forgery by the killer to distract the police.