For the Sake of Progress

by Lucaro

Chapter 6: The Secluded Estate

The sun was setting on the horizon, painting the sky a bright pink and orange. Fluttershy would have loved to watch the sun set and see the world plunged into darkness, but there was no time. Lives were at stake here.

Applejack had four jars of Zap Apple jam inside her bags to give to Mr. Rich. The stallion had lost his colt, hopefully the treat would loosen his tongue and make him more cooperative.

They ran along the dirt path, the crickets beginning to chirp as the sky continued to darken. In about an hour, they arrived at the estate shrouded by trees. It was a large, two story Victorian style home. All the lights were on inside, so someone was definitely home.

Their path illuminated by moonlight, they trotted across Rich’s luxurious driveway and climbed up a few set of steps and arrived at two very large mahogany doors. Twilight urged Applejack to knock on the door, and she did. Thud. Thud. Thud. Her hoof striking the wood made a thudding sound that echoed inside.

The door cracked open, and they saw the tear streaked face of a beige mare with a scarlet mane. Applejack stepped forward. “Mrs. Rich, I have come to offer my condolences for your son.”

The mare slowly opened the door, her eyes downcast. “Oh, thank you. Please,” she urged. “Come on in.”

Applejack stepped onto the polished marble floor, the smooth ground cool and pleasant underneath her hooves. They walked into a large reception area with oak staircases leading up to the second floor and different wings of the house. Brilliant artwork hung from the walls with spotlights trained on them, glass sculptures stood on pedestals, and Applejack could hear the trickling sound of an indoor water fountain somewhere.

Mrs. Rich sniffed, blowing her nose in a handkerchief. “Oh, excuse me.” She turned and faced them. “I’m such a mess…” she sobbed, her eyes filling up with tears again. “I’m a terrible mother. It was my negligence that made Firespark brain dead.”

Twilight frowned, putting a hoof on her shoulder. “That’s what we came here to talk about. We have some news….”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. Mrs. Rich turned away, the Zap Apple jam at hand. “Please leave me be, I’m a terrible person.”

“It’s not your fault,” Applejack said consolingly.

“How do you know it’s not my fault!?” Mrs. Rich screamed. “I had four miscarriages before I was finally blessed with Firespark!”

“That’s not your fault either…” Fluttershy murmured.

“It is!” Mrs. Rich put her hoof on her head. “I’m a murderer! Everything I love shrivels and dies!”

Twilight sighed. “Mrs. Rich, we need to talk to your husband. It’s very important. There’s a lot of sick foals, and Mr. Rich can possibly save them.”

Mrs. Rich wiped her tears, sniffing. “Mr. Rich is unavailable. He has requested to be left alone ever since he returned from his oil-drilling campaign.” She turned away, trotting up the staircase.

Applejack chased her up the steps, and blocked her path. “My little sister is sick! And Mr. Rich is the only one who knows what’s wrong with her! You take us to him right now!”

Mrs. Rich sobbed again, collapsing on the steps. “Mr. Rich was already so distressed when he returned home from the Badlands, but then he barricaded himself inside his room when he found out that his son was…” she swallowed, “brain dead.” She began nodding vigorously. “I need him so badly, I need him more than ever…but I guess everypony has their own way of dealing with grief. My husband loved and nurtured Firespark more than I ever could.”

Twilight kneeled down so she was face to face with Mrs. Rich. “Please, help us. The same thing that happened to Firespark is happening to a dozen other foals and counting. We need his help to stop this.”

Mrs. Rich stared into Twilight’s eyes. “Second floor, west wing, the very last door at the end of the hallway.” Mrs. Rich retreated from them, and slunk down the steps, her ears drooped. “I hope you have more luck getting to him than I did.”

Mrs. Rich disappeared into one of the lower hallways, and her lonely sobs echoed in the cavernous mansion. Twilight nodded and they all trotted up the carpeted steps. It took them a little while, but they finally reached the west wing of the house. An eerie hush had fallen over this part of the house, and they all stood at in the hallway. They stared at the door to Mr. Rich’s bedroom. There was something haunting about it. They wanted to proceed, but something akin to fear kept their hooves rooted to the ground.

There was the sound of something crashing and they all jumped. They rushed forward, and there was the sound of glass shattering from within the bedroom. Applejack bucked the door hard, and the door shook to no avail. Mr. Rich was screaming from inside. “No! No! NO!”

The screams were cut off suddenly and Twilight blasted the door with magic, sending it flying off its hinges. They charged in and Applejack stopped suddenly. The other two mares bumped into her, and Twilight was about to protest until she saw what Applejack was staring at. In the center of the room, tied to the fan, Filthy Rich hung from a noose.

They all stared at the suspended body, the rope still swinging back and forth from where it had broken his neck. They were awoken from their stupor when there was the sound of glass breaking from the master bathroom. They kicked open the door and rushed up to the broken window. Somepony had jumped through, and they could see the pony’s dark shadow fleeing into the dense forest far below.

Applejack gasped. “What in tarnation? Who was that?”

Twilight shook her head. “I have no idea, but….”

They all turned around, and they could still see Mr. Rich hanging from the roof from where they were standing. Applejack stepped forward, trotting into the room. A wardrobe had been turned over, and there were shards of broken glass everywhere. “How could Mr. Rich commit suicide?” Fluttershy asked, tears in her eyes.

“Maybe he had a guilty secret,” Applejack hissed.

“No,” Twilight said. “Suicidal ponies don’t yell ‘No, no, no’ when they are about to kill themselves.” Twilight gestured to the state of the room. “This was no suicide. There was obviously a struggle here.”

“So you’re saying,” Fluttershy swallowed. “That this was a murder?”

“Yes, that’s what the evidence suggests.” Twilight pointed at the broken window in the bathroom. “Somepony was here with him, and then fled the scene when we came in.”

Applejack shuddered. “Twilight, I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all. It’s like somepony wanted to make this seem like a suicide, an anguished father killing himself in the wake of his son’s brain death. But we showed up, and the murderer had to flee and had no time to clean up the signs of Mr. Rich’s struggle.”

Twilight nodded. “What have we gotten ourselves into?” She turned to Fluttershy. “Call the police. Tell them that Mr. Rich has been murdered.”