Ponyville Noire

by FacadeArt

Chapter 1: New town, old moves.

Chapter 1
New town, old moves.

Crime. Crime is like a plague, it fills the streets and rots the city. Fighting crime is like playing a game of poker against someone who can always see your cards. All you can do is run after it, even when you know that you'll never catch it. So I did, I ran, until I could not run anymore. I had enough, I left it all behind, I left behind the dusty streets of Manehattan. But as everypony knows, you can always leave the old life, but the old life won’t leave you.

So here I was again. Sitting in my office of a private eye. New town, old moves. But who could blame me? They called me Hawkshaw, the stallion cursed with the special talent of solving crimes. That talent would forever tie me to the underbelly of society.

I moved here, in Ponyville, to try a different life. It didn’t work out. I was like a murderer who tried to act as a saint. The old life was a part of me. I hated it but damn...I loved it just as much.

So I dug up my old fedora and my trusty raincoat. Back in uniform I took my seat in the office, once again sipping that black liquid of life. It was a lost cause, like trying to clean an entire city with one broom while somepony always kept pouring more smug on the streets at the same time. But as it turned out, I wasn’t much of a quitter. All I could do was change the scenery.

Ponyville was a quiet town. The kind of place where the rich would travel, so they could pretend to be normal ponies instead of being spoiled brats who hadn’t seen a day of honest work.

It was no wonder then that the office was quiet. For a moment I hoped that it would stay that way. That I had finally found the one place in the world that was free of crime. All those hopes were shattered however, when she knocked on my door.

“Detective Hawkshaw?I have been informed that you solve crimes?”

This white coated dame walked into my office. She had that high class pony look on her. A perfect, pearl white, coat and a curly purple mane. The kind of pony all the stallions would drool after, like a bunch of rabid diamond dogs. A normal guy could take a look at her and think she was just another innocent mare. But I had seen enough gals like her in my time to tell that under all that makeup and fake eyelashes was usually a pony of lie and deceit.

“You came to the right place doll. Im Hawkshaw. Just take a seat and pour your problems on me.”

“Doll? Uh...excuse me?”

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Well why didn’t you say so in the first place?”

She walked over to my coffee stained table and took a seat, about to share yet another injustice of this world. Like I expected I could see the beauty in her eyes. The look that would make a lesser stallion give his heart away if she asked for it. But that look was treacherous, and I knew that if you fell for it. She could crush your heart and leave it to the floor right in front of you.

“What seems to be the problem miss...?”

“Rarity. I am the owner of carousel boutique. Best fashion designer in all of Ponyville and someday all of Equestria.”

What a load of information. I had met ponies like her before. Only the most self-centered of ponies would give such a detailed account when asked for their names. It was like asking a police officer for his name only for him to show his badges and stripes to you.

“Miss Rarity. How can I help you?”

“Something horrible has happened! It is the WORST POSSIBLE THING!”

Such an outburst from an elegant mare could mean only one thing: She had lost something. Crime had taken something precious from this mare and left her as an empty husk looking for answers. I was determined to give her those answers.

“Sounds bad. What happened?”

“Well I must say that your attire is simply dreadful! That dusty old fedora needs to be replaced immediately! And why on earth would you wear a raincoat indoors?”

Or maybe she was just an overacting drama-queen.

“Well the case has been solved! I happen to like this hat and i intend to keep it. Now if all you wanted to do was insult my sense of style. I think we are done here.” I said and turned back to my cup of coffee.

To let go of my fedora was as to part from an old friend. An old friend who had always been there sitting silently. The places that hat and I had gone to...I could never let it go. In a way it was a symbol of my curse. I knew that as long as that hat was there, I could never leave this old life behind.

“Oh no, do not get me wrong. I would be delighted to design you some proper clothing, free of charge of course! I have this great idea for a moody detective look.”

I had expected her to be the snobby type that made clothing only for the rich and spoiled kids of the upper class. Now she had just met me and was already offering her services. There were only two kinds of ponies in this world though: Those who gave nice things for money and those who gave nice things when they wanted something.

“Im sorry miss, but I take bits only.”

“Why, whatever do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. But I’m telling you that I work only for cold hard cash.”

“But of course! The new attire would simply be a gift for the new pony in Ponyville!”

A gift? Cut me a break. Ponies like her would never go around sharing gifts. Next she would be telling me that she was the Element of Generosity itself. I didn’t know what this mare wanted to accomplish by attempting to bribe me with fashion, but I decided to play along for now.

“Let’s cut to the chase then. I assume you have a real reason you came to find me in your hooves?”

“Oh yes! I almost forgot there has been a MURDER!”

Murder. The oldest of crimes. Even this small town could not escape the sinful act of taking another’s life. It seemed that yet another body was about to be lain in front of me. Another husk of secrets that I would have to solve.

“I’m sorry for your loss miss. Who is the victim?”

“Somepony has killed my old friend Barthélemy! Oh and he was so young!”

Barthélemy? Sounded like a fancy name. He was no doubt one of the snobby ponies in this white mares circle of friends. He seemed to be important to the dame, they were friends and who knows, maybe even lovers. The pain of losing a loved one...I could relate.

“Do you have any idea how he was killed?”

“Oh I most certainly do! it was SABOTAGE!”

Sabotage? It wasn’t one of the usual ways to take a life. Whatever did she mean by that? Maybe he had been working on something dangerous that had been sabotaged. The equipment probably went haywire and caused his death.

“I should begin investigations immediately. Where can I find this poor fellows body?”

“Body? What body?” She asked in surprise.

What a stupid question. First she had told me about a murder and now she was telling me there was no body? I might have judged her too fast though. Maybe she meant that the accident was so bad, there was nothing left of the guy.

“You know, the body of this Barthélemy pony you were just telling me about?”

“Oh! Barthélemy isnt a pony!”

“Not a pony? So is he a griffon or...?”

“No, no, no he is my favorite sewing machine of course!”

I fell off my chair. I should have seen this coming, she was a drama queen after all. I didn’t know if I should be mad that she had mislead me like this, or glad that nopony had actually died. So I climbed back up and took a sip of my coffee instead.

“...So, you want me to solve who made a number on your sewing machine?”

“Exactly! But I do hope it was an accident.”

I sighed. It wasn’t the most intriguing of cases but my office wasn’t exactly flooded with customers either. I decided to find this poor soul who had the guts to touch this gorgeous mares Barthélemy. “Gorgeous mare”? I had to be careful not to fall for this gal. I pulled out my dusty old notebook and pen from the drawer.

“Ok honey. Spill me the details.”

She took a deep breath. Ready to let go of her problems and make them my problems instead.

“It was a night like any other. I had invited my friends over for a party to celebrate the completion of my new fashion line. Everything went smoothly and I had a long discussion about fashion with my friend Fluttershy. You know, she knows more about fashion that she’s letting on. Did you know that...”

I raised my hoof as a sign that she was getting off track. She understood the gesture and continued.

“Anyway, like I previously stated, we had a good time and I went to sleep after a few too many glasses of punch. The next morning however...”

She jumped off the chair suddenly and landed on a couch that slided into my office from nowhere. I had to admit that she did her role as a drama-queen with style.

“The horror! THE HORROR! Barthélemy had been murdered!”

“You mean... he was destroyed?”

She smiled sheepishly and returned to the seat.

“Why yes, that is what I meant.”

So it was a simple case of destruction of property. One of her friends was responsible but whoever that was, hadn't come clean with it. I would have to go talk to these, no doubt, snobby friends of hers and squeeze the truth out like a poison is sucked out from a wound.

I wasn’t surprised that it was one of her friends. Friends could not be trusted. At one moment they pat you on the back claiming to be your best buddies. A moment later you notice they start playing for the other team. Friends could always be bought. Wave a couple of hundred bits in front of they’re faces and suddenly friendship meant nothing anymore.

“Let’s not waste anytime. I’d prefer to take a look at the scene of the crime.”

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Arriving at the carousel boutique I could see from the distance that it was the kind of fancy building meant to attract the hordes of shopping ponies. The building’s design was outrageous it was shaped like an actual carousel. I was starting to kind of miss the old streets of Manehattan when I stepped inside and noticed all the vibrant colors. In my old home everything seemed so...black and white.

“Welcome to the Carousel Boutique Mr.Hawkshaw. I know I should have tidied up a little bit before letting guests in, but this is an emergency.”

Tidied up? I had never seen such a well kept place in my life! It was far from the dusty bars of Manehattan that watered the scum sitting there with an endless supply of illegal apple cider.

“Thank you miss Rarity. You seem to be doing well for yourself.” I said.

She gestured me to follow her upstairs. Who knew how many unfortunate young stallions had walked these same steps only to have their hearts crushed by this femme fatale? Luckily I wasn’t about to join these broken souls so I made my way to the scene of the crime.

The machine was there, a sad looking sight of broken metal and gears, not to mention the fabric laying around the wreck.

“Just look at him! Poor Barthélemy...” Rarity sighed at the sight of the mess.

“Yep I can safely say his sewing days are over.”

So I used that cursed special talent of mine and scanned the area. Something under the fabric caught my eye. I proceeded to reveal this mystery item to the world by lifting the curtain of secrecy covering it. In other words, I lifted the fabric to see what was under it.

“Well would you look at this Miss Rarity, it’s a book titled “Fix it all” I assume it’s yours?”

Rarity shook her head in denial.

“No...I have never seen that book before. How on earth did it end up here?” She asked.

The book wasn’t a part of the decoration then.

“I think the culprit attempted to fix the machine with magic. Was any of your friends an unicorn?” I reasoned.

“Now that you mention it, one of my friends is indeed an unicorn!” Rarity gasped

“Could it be...could it be, that Twilight is behind all this?” she said in disbelief.

A magic book at the crime scene. Only one unicorn awake in the house when the crime took place. Unless Rarity was lying it seemed like a closed case, but with my luck, things were never that simple. Regardless, I had a lead.

“I should question this “Twilight” pony and get her to spill the beans about this book. Can you get me her address?”

She told me that Twilight Sparkle was the local librarian. Librarian? I was told that there had been no librarian in Ponyville for years. What a coincidence that this “Twilight Sparkle” was kind enough to take this place, located conveniently in the middle of the town. It smelled like an obvious scam to me. Maybe it was a cover for some money laundering operations?

Now i was really interested in this Twilight. Who knows what rotten secrets would await me in this so called “Library”. I said my good byes to Rarity and began to make my way there.

“Oh do be easy on her! Frankly I do not think she could have done this. Twilight is the most responsible pony I know.” She shouted after me.

It was cute. To have such trust for your friends. I had seen enough lies and deceit myself to know better...I had no right to crush this fantasy she was living in though.

“In my experience Miss Rarity. Looks can be deceiving.”

Comments

[Aegis Shield]

Midnight in a town that knows how to keep its secrets,
I know this city like a beautiful mare.
I'm Pony Niore, Private Eye!

*smooth jazz*

(Marked to read later, love the idea)

[Solid 6GEAR]

markin' to read later, as this is certainly an intriguing and curious idea. I'm gonna likely love readin' this, since old detective novels were a fave of mine.

[Tricondon]

OK, I am loving this so far.

Couple issues, though. You missed capitalizing 'I' nearly half the time, and a number of sentences don't really flow all that well. They're awkward, stilted. Sentence fragments, if you were to plug them into Microsoft Word.

Still, nice blend of film noir and comedy; I'm loving how jaded Hawkshaw is, and Rarity's still a drama queen. Just needs a bit of touching up so far as overall sentence structure and grammar is concerned.

-Tricondon

[The Writer of Fate]

Oh this looks interesting...and hilarious.

[FacadeArt]

803588

Thanks