My Little Investigations: The Silent Dirge

by Metool Bard

Confrontation: Mike Check

April 10, 11:30 AM
Lincolt Center
The Whinnyton Maresalis Theater
***

"Ma'am, I must ask you to leave."

"Not until you give me a damn good explanation of what happened last night!"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out!"

"M-maybe we shouldn't be doing this..."

"Shut up, Concerto!"

When we got to the theater, I suppressed the urge to groan. Once again, I was walking in on an argument. This time around, it was between Symphony and Mike Check. This was not going to be pleasant.

"Um, excuse me..." I said, making my way into the conversation.

Symphony turned to me, and quickly hid her face. "Y-you again?! Is there something about me being shamed and humiliated that you get off on, Octavia?!"

"Sumthin' tells me Ah don't wanna know," said Fiddlesticks.

"Right," I said, clearing my throat. "I'm actually here to see Mr. Check about something."

"Yeah, well, you caught me at a bad time, Melody," said Mike. "This pony here thinks that I have something to do with what happened last night."

"It's your job to make sure things like that don't happen!" Symphony screamed. "Intentional or no, it's your fault!"

"You think I'm happy about this?" Mike snarled. "I've been busting my flank trying to make sure everything runs smoothly!"

"Well, you're not doing a very good job," Symphony spat.

"Ponies, please," I said. "Let's take a moment to calm down before things get out of hoof."

"I-I'd listen to her," said Concerto meekly.

Symphony snorted, but said nothing else.

"Good," I said. "Now then, Mr. Check. I'm sorry to say this, but my colleague has a point. The main events at this year's festival thus far have been nothing short of disastrous. Either this is due to incompetence on your part, or you are the mastermind behind everything that has transpired."

"Well, news flash, Melody: Both of those are wrong," said Mike firmly. "I'm one of the best roadies in Equestria, and I've got nothing against anypony here."

"If that's true, perhaps you can share with us what you've managed to discover about last night's incident," I said. "If you're not guilty, then you should have nothing to hide."

Mike narrowed his eyes. "Y'know, this is usually the part where I say it's none of your business, but your nosiness has been a great boon to the investigation. So, I'll play ball with ya. But I'm warning you right now, Melody: No funny stuff. I don't want to hear anything irrelevant outta you, got it?"

"I wouldn't even dream of it, Mr. Check," I said.

"Are ya sure he's hidin' sumthin'?" Fiddlesticks whispered to me.

"I don't know," I confessed. "But considering that it's his job to make sure things run smoothly, there has to be some explanation as to why that hasn't been the case."

"It's more complicated than you think, Melody," said Mike, tapping his headset.

***
Testimony: Mike's Take Part I
***

"I honestly have no idea what's going on here," said Mike. "Right now, I'm trying to dissect the transmitter found in Scratch's equipment yesterday, and trust me, that's easier said than done. But I'm actually more confused about last night's incident. I double and triple checked everything on and around the stage. Everything was copacetic, from the catwalk to the trapdoors. What happened last night should not have happened on my watch."

And yet it did. I hate to say it, but Mike isn't making a good case for himself by just throwing up his hooves and saying he doesn't know. That wasn't going to fly with Symphony, and it certainly wasn't going to fly with me.

"There's a blatant contradiction in your testimony, Mr. Check," I said.

"Yeah, I'm well aware," said Mike with a snort. "But it's the honest truth. Nothing was wrong when I checked the stage."

"Oh yeah? What about the sandbag?" said Symphony, folding her forelegs. "I was almost killed by that thing!"

"I swear, that rope was strong and secure when I checked it," said Mike. "Something must've happened to it when I wasn't looking."

"Well, gee. That's convenient," said Symphony, rolling her eyes. "Where exactly were you during my performance, hmm?"

"Below the stage, checking the trapdoors," said Mike. "During a performance, the roadies work best in the shadows."

"And what of the rest of your crew?" I inquired. "Did they witness anything?"

Mike sighed. "They all said they got distracted by that violin string breaking. Nopony knows what happened to the sandbag."

Wait, the violin string. That was important.

"Symphony, remind me again," I said. "Did anypony handle your violin before you went on?"

"W-well, no," said Symphony.

"Then I can hardly say that Mr. Check is to blame for that."

Symphony's eyes went wide. "Wh-what?! Why are you taking his side all of a sudden?!"

"I'm not," I said. "The violin string was not Mr. Check's doing, but the sandbag could've been."

"H-hey! It wasn't!" exclaimed Mike. "I told you before, I've got nothing against you guys! Besides, Slick would fire me if he found out I was responsible for the sabotage!"

"Sabotage, you say?" I said, adjusting my bow-tie. "So, last night wasn't an accident in your opinion."

"Yeah, I think it was sabotage," said Mike with a shrug. "What's it to ya?"

"You told me before that you weren't sure whether or not the death threats were real," I said. "It seems that now, you believe that they are."

Sweat trickled down Mike's face. "W-well, sure. I believe it now that there's evidence for it."

"The transmitter wasn't evidence enough?"

"Um, I... I... Ay yi yi!"

Mike didn't have a retort for that. Symphony saw this as an opportunity to strike.

"It seems you have something to hide, roadie," she said menacingly. "Just admit it! You're the one who sent me that death threat and tried to kill me!"

"I-isn't it a bit early to be thinking that?!" Mike yelled. "I-I'm not perfect, y'know! Maybe the transmitter was just a misplaced piece of equipment!"

"That's, quite doubtful," I said. "However, I don't think you're the mastermind, either."

"Octavia, will you stop taking his side?!" Symphony shrieked.

"There's something that prevents him from being a suspect," I said. "Yesterday, when the transmitter was found, he activated it by accident. He wouldn't have done so if he was the killer, because the killer should know how the device works."

"M-maybe he was trying to eliminate any witnesses! Ever consider that?!" said Symphony. "His ears would've been protected by his headset while the rest of you were rendered deaf!"

"And yet, I'm still here," I said plainly. "So is Vinyl and the rest of Mr. Check's crew. If he was so keen on getting rid of us, he would've manipulated the device in a way that would permit him to do so."

"I don't believe that for a second!" Symphony exclaimed.

"Of course you don't," I said bluntly. "Because you don't like to be wrong."

Symphony couldn't respond to that. She sputtered incoherently before letting out a frustrated groan.

"W-well, he's still not off the hook!" she snapped as soon as she recovered. "Something happened last night, and he should've prevented it!"

"I would've if I could've," sighed Mike. "But like I said, I don't know what happened."

"Well, y'all gotta know sumthin'," said Fiddlesticks. "Ya said that there was evidence to support the whole death threat theory that wasn't the transmitter Tavia mentioned. Mind elaboratin'?"

"Not at all," said Mike, regaining his composure. "Just, promise to keep it on the down-low, alright?"

"Mum's the word," I said solemnly.

"Mah lips are sealed," said Fiddlesticks.

"I'll, think about it," said Symphony.

"Um, Symphony? I don't think it's in our best interest to be difficult," said Concerto.

"Shut up, Concerto," Symphony growled.

Well, I can say this much about Concerto; at least he's persistent. A lesser pony would've given up on reasoning with Symphony long ago.

"I guess that's the best answer I can get out of her," said Mike, glancing at Symphony before clearing his throat. "Anyway, here's what I know..."

***
Testimony: Mike's Take Part II
***

"The transmitter isn't enough to go on because I don't know how the damn thing works," said Mike. "However, there's something from last night pointing to sabotage. While investigating the catwalk, I discovered that the rope holding the sandbag had been cut. It was a pretty clean cut, too; no loose strands or anything. I don't know what did it, but that has sabotage written all over it."

The first part was, rather flimsy. Just because he's not sure how the transmitter works doesn't mean it's not a vital piece of evidence. However, the rest of his testimony was what got my attention. I had to get some more information.

"Now, you said before that you were underneath the stage when the accident happened, correct?" I inquired.

"Yep," said Mike. "I also had my crew checking the catwalk, but they were all distracted by what happened to Symphony, so none of them saw the rope being cut."

"And, you trust them?"

Mike smirked. "Believe me, Melody. If I found out one of my boys was trying to pull a fast one on me, I'd make 'em sorry long before the cops showed up. They know better than to go against my word."

"Unless you ordered them to cut the rope and kill me," Symphony spat.

"We already established that ain't possible," said Fiddlesticks. "C'mon, try an' keep up."

Symphony scowled. "Why you impudent—!"

"Fiddlesticks is right, Symphony. Let it go," I said firmly.

Symphony reluctantly complied, muttering under her breath as she did so.

"Anyway, do you have any idea what could've made a cut like that, Mr. Check?" I asked.

"The only things that come to mind are magic and a buzzsaw," said Mike, furrowing his brow. "Both of those would've made too much noise, and no one heard anything until the rope was actually cut."

That wasn't strictly true. Pitch Perfect heard something, thanks to her special talent. And I think I know what she heard.

"Mr. Check, I'd like you to look at something," I said, reaching into my cello case and pulling out the tuning fork.

Mike raised an eyebrow. "What the hay is that?"

"I was wondering if you knew," I said with a shrug. "I found this while investigating the performance studios."

Mike grasped the odd implement with his magic and looked it over.

"Sorry, Melody. I've got no idea what this thing is," he said. He then tapped it on the ground, causing it to make that off-tuning fork noise. As it vibrated, a barely-visible wave of sound launched from the tip and buzzed Fiddlesticks.

"Hey, watch it!" she barked. "Ah ain't yer guinea— Whoa nelly!"

I turned to see what had Fiddlesticks so excited, and I gasped. A clump of hair from her tail had been seared off. It didn't take me long to make the connection.

"I, do believe we found the weapon used last night," I said, slowly recovering from the shock. "The killer used this twice: Once to cause Symphony's violin string to snap, and another time to release the sandbag."

"B-but it still doesn't explain who's behind this!" cried Symphony. "This roadie could still be the culprit!"

"One, he has an alibi," I said. "He was beneath the stage, so it would be impossible for him to aim that thing. Secondly, if he was the killer, he wouldn't have missed."

"If ya call that missin'," said Fiddlesticks, brushing her tail. "That was still a pretty close shave, pardon the pun."

"It wasn't intentional, ma'am. I assure you," said Mike. "If it was, I would be threatening you all right now with this thing. As it stands, I don't even know what it is. I'll look into this and let Slick know about this right away."

He then gave me a smirk. "It seems that you've been quite helpful once again, Melody. Tell me, are you always this nosy?"

"This is a special circumstance, Mr. Check," I said. "I have my reasons."

"Right," said Mike. "Well, seeya 'round, I guess. I'll keep ya posted."

With that, he walked off. Symphony pursed her lips and shot me a glare.

"Was last night not enough for you, Octavia? Did you have to humiliate me more?" she huffed.

"You would've been more humiliated if your deductions turned out to be wrong, Symphony," I said. "I just did you a favor."

Symphony mulled it over for a moment before conceding begrudgingly. "Okay, I'll give you that," she grumbled. "Th-thank you."

"Anytime," I said with a smile.

Symphony sighed and walked away, muttering to herself all the while.

"She's been in a poor mood ever since last night," said Concerto. "I don't think she'll snap out of it until this is all resolved. Please forgive her."

"Of course," I said. "Trust me, Concerto. I know Symphony well enough to understand that she's not used to having her pride wounded so deeply."

Concerto bowed and took off after his partner.

"Well, Ah'd love to stick around and help out more, but Ah've gotta practice fer tonight," said Fiddlesticks with a chuckle. "Even if it is a lost cause."

"That's probably for the best," I said. "We can't let this madman win. As for me, I'm getting a bit peckish. I'll be heading over to the Bent Trumpet to get something to eat. I'll let you know if anything comes up."

"Likewise," said Fiddlesticks with a tip of her hat. "Take care of yerself, Tavia."

As we went our separate ways, I began to wonder where this was all going. Unlike yesterday, I was getting at least a few concrete answers. However, the questions were still building up one after the other. After all, there was still no culprit.

And then there was the matter with Lyra and Pan. If the killer and the kidnapper are not the same person, then what was Lyra's kidnapping all about, and how did Pan rescue her? They had to be connected in some way, I'm sure. Lyra vaguely mentioned it in that ransom note. I also wonder if that drunkard Silenus knows more than he lets on. So while I'm making progress today, the answers are still not within reach. I have to wonder if I am going to figure this out before Fiddlesticks and her band perform tonight. Maybe I should investigate a bit...

...

Okay, this isn't working. I can't think on an empty stomach, and I recently chased a drunken donkey all over the whole bloody building. I think I need a break. Just a short one, though.

Comments

[PageTurner]

3451424

Always here to lend a hoof.

[theNDinspector]

M-maybe he was trying to eliminate any witnesses! Every consider that?!

And now there's a "y" that shouldn't be there. Sorry if I come off as some "spell-check Nazi." It's just a small mistake that I know won't be caught by any electronic spell-checker--and possibly not a grammar-checker either.

I really am enjoying this story, although it seems that Mare-Do-Well is pretty lacking here. Yeah, there's still more chapters to go, and the "Wonderbolts Under Fire" story already dealt with her origin, but I want more of her.

[Metool Bard]

5005351 Whoops! Thanks again. Oy, I need a better fine-tooth comb.

As for Mare-Do-Well herself, well, keep in mind that the circumstances are different this time around. It'll be fully explained later, but it was already revealed in a previous chapter that she isn't looking for Octavia's help.