Agent Con Mane in Doctor Ironhoof (Under Revision)

by Fairytail

Chapter 5: Good Ol' Strange Ways

As Joe pulled the carriage up to the front of the large, white building, a Royal Guard in full golden armor slowly marched down the steps leading to the entrance way and politely unfastened Joe’s harness.

“Welcome to Equestria House, Janeighca.” said the soldier politely, “Looks like your passenger fell asleep on you.”

Joe looked into the comfortable compartment of the white carriage. Sitting in the seat was a yellow Earth Pony with his eyes closed and limping to the side with his mouth hanging open.

“Actually,” Joe explained, “he’s my driver and an assassin. I’m Con Mane of Mane6 Intelligence.”

Suddenly realizing he was in the presence of a superior officer, the Royal Guard saluted and stood at attention. Joe didn't bother to return the formality.

“Sergeant,” Joe continued, “make sure he doesn't get away, will you?”

Joe trotted up the pristine white stairs to the entrance of Janeighca’s capitol building. He noted the two marble statues on either side of the door depicting the royal sisters. He was impressed by the craftsmanship. Once Joe was through the door, the soldier relieved himself and turned his attention towards the sleeping Earth Pony.

“Alright, you.” he barked, “Wake up! You’d better come with-”

As the guard touched the pony’s shoulder his body fell lifelessly to the side which his hat to fall unceremoniously to the floor.

“Welcome to Janeighca, Mr. Mane!”

An old purple coated Earth Stallion rose up from behind his desk and greeted Joe with a hoofshake. The stallion squinted at Joe through a pair of impressively thick lenses. His mane line had completely receded leaving nothing behind but pathetic wisps of white hair. He wore pants that didn't match his coat and Joe assumed his tail was tucked inside them as to avoid possible embarrassment.

“You must be Governor Claymold.” Joe returned the greeting.

“Ah, yes. Let me introduce you to Desire, my secretariat.”

Claymold waved his hoof to the corner of the room where a young mare stood smiling politely. She was a unicorn with a very pale, canary yellow coat. She wore her mane long and straight and it was a charming robin egg blue with a single hot pink streak. He noticed she probably wore extension on her tail and her cutie mark was an envelope adorned with a heart. She bowed towards Joe and he returned the greeting with a quick nod of the head.

“Desire, “ ordered Claymold, “some muffins for our guest.”

“No, thank you,” Joe interjected quickly, “I think I've decided to quit muffins for a while.”

“Very well, just for me then.”

Desire raised a dainty hoof in curtsy and calmly trotted towards the back door of the office. Joe watched as the extensions in her tail danced with her strut like a worm on a hook. Claymold returned to his desk and lit a pipe not too dissimilar to MARE’s. Whatever it was that the governor had chosen to smoke was sweet like a perfume. The presence of the fumes was a welcome addition to the rather drab and under-decorated office and provided it with much needed atmosphere. The only decor adorning the walls was a rather blurry portrait of Princess Celestia- most likely a print or duplicate- and a wall mounted map of Janeighca and some of the surrounding islands. With Desire having left the room, there was nothing left to stimulate Joe visually and so he focused on the soothing pipe smoke. The strawberry scent, coupled with the now obviously present grandfather clock ticking away, lulled Joe into a heavy relaxation. He jerked back into an upright position at the sound of the office door executing the silence.

“Governor,” said the Pegasus who walked in, “it turns out that carriage was definitely stolen.”

The Pegasus was another member of the Royal Guard as could be seen by his pure white coat and electric blue mane which were magically augmented by his golden armor which was more decorated than most soldiers’.

“Commander Mane, this is our Chief of Security.”

“Good day, Commander.” The Security Chief saluted. Joe decided not to return the honor. He hated pulling his rank and on top of that it always amused him to see how long these military drones could hold out standing on only three hooves.

“Have you learned anything about the driver, Chief?” Joe asked.

“Sir! We haven’t been able to identify the driver yet. We ran his Cutie Mark through our database but nothing came up. Whoever he was, he wasn't from Janeighca.” The Chief continued to hold the salute.

“Well whoever he was, he knew where to find me and who I was. Somepony talked.”

“Well it was certainly none of our ponies.” the governor said quite defensively.

“Nah,” Joe said to put Claymold at ease, “I got the impression that somepony was selling tickets.” Joe turned towards the Security Chief. His knees were starting to wobble and he even spread his wings just slightly to maintain his balance. “As I understand it, you were one of the last ponies to see Strange Ways?”

“Yes, unfortunately,” said the uncomfortable soldier, “The governor and I along with Grey Granite, the rock farmer. The four of us played bridge every week. It was right after our last game that he disappeared. You want me to bring him in?”

“Nah, I like meeting ponies more socially. I’m a social kind of stallion.”

“I’ll introduce you later.” Claymold said.

“And what of his secretariat?” Joe then noticed that the Chief’s lips were trembling, “Would you knock that off already?”

With a sigh of relief, the Security Chief placed all four hooves flat on the ground.

“None of us ever got a chance to meet her, “ he continued his report, “She was just recently assigned. The Royal Guard has searched Strange Ways’ house. We found traces of blood but no sign of her. A window was broken and the radio transmitter left on.”

“I’d like to take a look at the house too if you don’t mind.”

“I can take you right away, Commander.”

“And don't call me ‘Commander.’”

“Yes, Com- um, sir.”

Desire returned to the room with a plate full of freshly baked muffins that trumped the sweet scent of the pipe. Claymold greedily took one of them as soon as the plate was set down. He was about to take a large bite when he recollected his manners.

“Be sure to let us know if there is anything we can do to assist you.” he said before diving into his treat.

Desire held out a muffin towards Joe and pleaded at him with large rose-red eyes.. As tantalizing as the image was, Joe merely smiled at the mare and went on his way with the Security Chief following close behind.

Strange Ways’ house was very large as Janeighca hideaways came. The walls on both the interior and exterior of the estate were painted in a beach sand beige, giving the place an old, yet stately look. A tall rod iron gate separated the outer lawn from the city street. The grass, which was considered a luxury in Janeighca, was kept watered by a magically powered fountain. Judging by the way the water fell onto the lawn, Joe wagered a guess that it was powered by Pegasopolan Raindrops. Strange Ways obviously had money to spare. As the sun raged over the island city, Joe came to regret his decision to wear his suit and tie to his meeting with Claymold. Sweat had already made a mess of his mane; his horn was once again hidden within the confines of his uncontrollable bangs. Joe undid his bow tie and unbuttoned his collar in order to allow himself to breathe. He couldn't wait to get inside the building.

The interior of the house was sparsely decorated aside from the bare minimum of comfortable chairs and desks. Joe thought at first that the place had been ransacked but there were no signs of petty theft outside the forced entry. Joe wondered if this humble interior decorating was a part of Janeighcan culture.

The Chief of security led Joe to the study. “Well, this is it; Strange Ways’ estate. You can see the broken window there- it was smashed from the outside. As well as the blood stain on the carpet. Analysis indicated that the blood belonged to an Earth Pony and matched the secretariat’s blood type. Over here is the radio transmitter behind a false shelf in the bookcase. It was on when the Royal Guard investigated. I tried transmitting but I got no response.”

“And you never will,” Joe explained, “Canterlot changes all internal frequencies as soon as security’s broken. Did the Royal Guard find anything?”
Joe investigated around Strange Ways’ desk. It looked messy and disorganized which was normal for him even back when Joe worked with him. He couldn't tell at a glance whether or not the desk was gone through by the intruders.

“Nothing of note, sir. No hoofprints aside from Strange Ways’ and the secretariat’s. No magical trace residue either so we’re pretty sure no magic was used.”

“Professional job. Whoever did this knew what they were doing.”

Joe looked through the drawers of the desk. They were filled with manila folders and black files that signified they were ‘top secret’ files that were magically locked to those without access. Some of the slots were empty, but that didn't necessarily indicate theft. Joe became discouraged. Were the intruders only after Strange Ways and the secretariat? If they did steal something, Joe couldn't tell what. As Joe scoured through the clutter of the desktop, he saw something sticking out from the bottom of the typewriter. Strange Ways’ bizarre habits returned to Joe’s memory. He remembered that anything super important, Strange Ways would hide under the typewriter. Joe moved the outdated machine and found a single small strip of paper.

“What’s this here?” he said mostly to himself, “a receipt?”

“Yes, we found that earlier. We didn't think it important so we put it back where we found it. The receipt is from Grey Granite. He’s good friends with Strange Ways. It seems that Strange Ways had recently started dabbling in amateur geology.”

Joe folded up the receipt and tucked it away into the pocket of his dinner jacket. “I’d like to talk to him at some point.”

“Governor Claymold and I can introduce you at the gentlecolts’ club, sir.”

“Works for me. Wait a minute… That picture.”

a small photograph in a wooden frame caught Joe’s eye. The picture was of Strange Ways posing happily with a Zebra in front of a small red and white motorboat on the Ponibean. Seeing Strange Ways smile like that with his hoof around another pony made Joe strangely melancholic.

“Good old Strange Ways…” Joe sighed, “I walk away from the service and he gets himself a promotion. Just goes to show you what kind of pony he truly is.”

“Yes, that sounds like him.” the Chief chuckled.
Joe examined the smiling Zebra in the photo. “Who’s this Zebra standing next to him?” He was large for a Zebra- comparable to an Earth Pony- and he wore his mane in long braided dreadlocks.

“He’s a native Zebra named Anavua. Strange Ways hired his boat a few times for fishing trips.”

“He tailed me at the airdock.” Joe could clearly recalled the Zebra with his bulging eyes and manic charge towards Joe’s carriage like a pony possessed all the while a dark grey Pegasus with a fiery mane calmly steered the cab.

“Sounds like he’s worth looking into,” the chief said, “He’s normally docked at the south wharf.

“Thanks, Chief. I think that’ll be all. You will let me know if anything comes up.”

“Yes, sir. For now I’ll return you to Governor Claymold. Together we can meet Professor Granite at the gentlecolt’s club.”

During the ride back to Equestria House, Joe took off his dinner jacket to relieve himself of an annoying burn that itched his skin. Deep down inside, Joe knew it wasn't the scorching sun that had him hot under the collar.

Traditional Zebra calypso echoed through the dimly lit lounge of the club. Beautiful Zebra mares in exotic dresses and adorned with gold jewelry delivered strong drinks to the wealthy stallions that laughed loudly while lost in their vices. All around Joe he saw members of all three of the major equine tribes divulging in games, drink and the… local color. Ever since Janeighca became an Equestrian colony, it has become a haven for those ponies who were too rich to give any sort of damn about the political tribulations that faced their country. It was a Garden of Faust- a paradise that surrounded those that lived there with a bubble of blissful ignorance. Still, what Joe saw around him wasn't an escape. It was merely a fleeting dream. A dream from which these stallions, with their cider and their mares, will soon awaken only to find themselves drowned in a greater nightmare. The colonists knew that their money and resources would eventually run out and they will no longer be able to sustain their paradise. The genlecolt’s club, this safe haven from the troubles of the outside world, was beginning to look suspiciously like the back of a donut shop to Joe’s eyes.

A rather demure Zebra, a mix breed if Joe had to guess, brought freshly squeezed cider to the three ponies that accompanied Joe at his table. Joe opted to order a delicious slice of coconut cream pie. The Chief of Security had removed his helmet and happily drank the foamy beverage. Governor Claymold was content in letting his mug sit for several minutes. By the time he did attend to it, the foam had subsided and he barely took a sip. The pony Joe was truly interested in was the elderly Earth Pony with the sickly green coat. His skin was leathery and wrinkled. It even sagged in some places. His mane was a peppery grey and white. It was wiry and slithered out in all directions as if it hadn't been washed in years. It looked as though an old dirty mop had somehow became fused with his head. Joe could barely see the stallion’s tired old eyes through his cobweb of bangs. When Joe and the others arrived at the club, this pony was already at the table awaiting them… with two empty glasses already in front of him.

“May I introduce you to Professor Grey Granite, the local rock farmer.” Claymold said politely, “Professor Granite, this is Con Man from Canterlot. He is a detective looking into the disappearance of Strange Ways.”

It was a decent enough cover, Joe thought to himself, and not too far from the truth. “Hey there, Professor.” Joe shook the Professor’s hoof. It felt as tough and dry as a rock. “So I hear you were one of the last ponies to see Strange Ways?”

“Yes.” Grey Granite’s voice was just as old and weathered as the rest of him. A dry desert wind blew from his mouth as he spoke, “Curious, isn't it? Strange Ways disappearing like that? Or is it?” Granite laughed; or at least Joe assumed it was a laugh judging from the crooked smile. It just as easily could have been an ax grinding on a whetstone. “That secretariat of his was rather nice. It really doesn't surprise me in the least, those two galloping off together.”

Granite took a large swig of cider and then wiped his mouth with his hoof. His leathery lips hung in place to the side of his muzzle before slowly slithering back into place. Joe had long ago stopped eating his pie.

“Did you know her?” Claymold asked.

“Well, I've seen her around the island. You know...” Granite was more interested in finishing his cider than his sentence. Joe’s ears were hurting from Granite’s grinding sandpaper of a voice and the indulgent laughter of the club was more than he could bare.

“I suppose none of you can shed any light on what the heck happened to him?”

The security chief finished his mug and chuckled unprofessionally. “The only things he ever talked about were big game fishing and bridge.”

“Fishing was the latest crazed,” Claymold went on as he successfully nursed the first half of his drink, “He caught the bug around three weeks ago and went out practically every day since.”

“It’s rather funny you know…” Granite said with a relaxed smile, “Those blasted Zebra charge a hoof and a tail to charter. And that “avenue” is the most expensive of them all.”

“You mean Anavua?” Joe asked.

“Sure, why not?” said Granite whose head was starting to wobble under the influence of the cider.

“I think it’s about time I oughta talk to this Anavua… I think I’ll take a trip to the wharf.”

Using this objective as the perfect excuse to get the hell out of the sickening hive of leisure, Joe got out of his seat and left the gentlecolt’s club. The Chief of Security ordered another cider and he and Claymold played a game of cards. Meanwhile Professor Granite tried to impress the Zebra waitress with his ability to stand on his hind hooves, only to end up falling down and spending the night on the floor.

Comments

[Brandon Sky]

Suddenly I have an urge to sing "Underneath the mango tree, my honey and me~"