Ponyville Noire: Tails of Two Private Eyes

by PonyJosiah13

Case Three, Chapter Two: The Suspects

The clouds had lifted by the next evening, and a cold river breeze was floating over the city, dancing through the streets and sending most ponies retreating into the cover of their homes. Luna was beginning to paint the darkening sky with faintly twinkling stars in the eastern skies when Trace Evidence walked up the steps to the doorway of 221 Honeybee Bakery.

“Phil? Daring?” he called, knocking at the door.

There was no immediate reply. Pressing his ear to the door, Trace listened intently for any sign of life from within.

There came such a sign to his ears: two voices, one female and one male, both of them grunting loudly and occasionally letting out a shout, accompanied by various thumping noises. Raising an eyebrow, Trace telekinetically tested the doorknob and found that the front door was unlocked. Pushing the door open, he proceeded into the front hallway and looked around for the two detectives.

He proceeded forward towards the sitting room; the grunting noises got louder and faster as he walked. He eventually deduced that they were coming from behind a door in the hallway. Opening the door, he found himself facing a set of stairs leading down, lit by a bare bulb set in the ceiling.

He descended down the stairs, each of which creaked loudly as he put his weight upon them, and entered the basement, which had been converted into a gymnasium. Cheap but thick dark green matting covered most of the floor. A stack of free weights was stacked neatly against one wall, next to a bench press set. An exposed length of black piping in the ceiling bore friction marks from having been used as a pull-up bar; a treadmill stood in the opposite corner, with a grappling dummy sitting against the wall next to it.

Phillip and Daring were currently attacking a heavy bag that was hanging from the ceiling. Both of them weaved and dodged around the swinging black bag, grunting and shouting as they punched, kicked, elbowed, kneed and headbutted the canvas. Both of them were nude, their manes were in complete disarray, and their bodies glistened with sweat. Trace's eyes scanned the scars that dotted their forms, red and dark brown marks of every description that spoke of lives of violence: jagged marks from a broken bottle on the back of Phillip's shoulder, red dots on Daring's side where she'd taken a glancing round of buckshot.

Feeling relieved for some strange reason, Trace paused at the threshold of the stairs and waited for them to acknowledge his presence. After almost another minute of exercise, Daring and Phillip backed away from the bag, panting heavily. Phillip turned and nodded to Trace as he walked over to the side of the room.

“G’day,” he greeted Trace, snatching up a waiting water bottle. He unscrewed the top and took a long drink before continuing. “What news?”

“We checked with the bank, and you were right. There was a repairpony called to fix the surveillance crystal in the vault room five days ago,” Trace said, pulling a photograph out of his trenchcoat and showing it to Phillip. The black and white image depicted a lightly colored unicorn with a conservative blonde mane and mustache, thick round glasses and a toothpick clenched in his teeth. “We got an image of them off of the surveillance records, but we checked with the company they called, Enchanted Security, and they didn’t recognize him; as a matter of fact, they had no record of ever getting a call from the bank.”

“Somepony must’ve tampered with the crystal and given them a phony number to set up the ‘repair,’” Daring commented, mopping off her sweat-covered brow. “These guys are good; it’s what I would’ve done.”

“We’ve got an APB out on him,” Trace said.

“You won’t find him,” Daring stated. “He’ll have completely changed his appearance and gone into hiding by now.”

Trace shrugged. “Can’t hurt to try. Also, we’ve got a list of bank employees that we thought you might want to talk to. I’ve had my team hold off on questioning them for you.” He handed Phillip a manila folder of names, photographs, and notes. Phillip flipped through the folder, sucking on his lower lip in thought.

“I want you to know that I’m taking a big risk with this,” Trace stated. “Your name’s mud with Chief Tumbler and most of the higher-ups in the department these days. He seems to think that you’re making us look bad, encouraging vigilante action.”

“Is that so?” Phillip replied flatly, not looking up from the folder.

“You don’t give a shit, do you?” Trace asked in a slightly weary tone.

“He can’t fire me again,” Phillip stated.

“Wait, you were fired from the department?” Daring cut in.

Phillip looked at her, a small frown crossing his features. “It’s not something I like talking about.”

“Seems that you have a lot of those,” Daring commented, her eyebrows knitting.

Phillip turned back to Trace instead of replying to her. “Appreciate your help on this, mate,” he said to the trenchcoat-wearing stallion, holding out his hoof.

“Appreciate you trying to help,” Trace replied, grasping Phil’s hoof and shaking it. “And even though most of them will never say it, a lot of the others appreciate it, too.”

“I know,” Phillip replied. “You pay me.”

Daring laughed loudly. “See? I knew you had a sense of humor somewhere in there,” she said.

Trace’s mouth twitched upwards, then he glanced at his watch. “I’d better go. Captain Cold Case wants me to report back in; we’re looking into a multiple murder at a drug house.”

“You do that,” Daring said, flicking her tail and smirking at Phillip. “We were about to spar; Phil was looking forward to pinning me to the ground and holding me down.”

Phillip turned and stared at her, his ears burning crimson.

“Okay,” Trace said, backing up. “You two have fun.” And with that, he turned and retreated back up the stairs.

“Think you can handle me, big boy?” Daring purred as the sound of his hoofsteps, faster and louder than when he first entered, vanished upstairs.

“I cannot believe you sometimes,” Phillip grumbled, his ears still bright red.

Daring laughed again, a bright, throaty sound that filled the room. “Ah, you make it too easy,” she sighed, tossing her mane back. And without further ado, she dashed forward with a flap of her wings and tackled Phillip to the floor.

---

The Dockside District was home to a number of restaurants and taverns, all of them offering meals of varying qualities at a variety of prices. One such restaurant was the Falling Leaves, a wide, single-story establishment, painted in shades of gold and red, located only a few blocks from the Central Bank.

Currently, three employees wearing simple but pristinely creased suits were gathered around a round table in the corner, awaiting their orders. “I still can’t believe that our bank was robbed,” said a light tan donkey female said, twirling her dyed blonde mane with her hoof.

“I’m just thankful that none of us were there when they got in,” an aqua green unicorn with gray hair shuddered, pushing his thick glasses back up his nose and adjusting his silk tie. “Imagine if they had tried to hurt us.”

“You guys are too down in the dumps,” a young green earth pony with a purple mane and mustache said, munching on a roll. He loosened his tie and settled back in his mane. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“Like your new Cougar?” the jenny said with a roll of her eyes. “It’s very impressive, Wax Seal, we get it.”

“I got it brand new!” Wax Seal boasted with a broad grin. “Still can’t believe that I actually got it, I’ve been saving up for months!”

The jenny and the unicorn both sighed and engaged in conversation with one another, tuning out their colleague.

Across from them at the bar, Phillip and Daring watched their targets in the reflection of Phillip’s hoof mirror, which he had concealed in his hoof.

“Willow, Signature Line, and Wax Seal,” Phillip stated. “Our three suspects. Willow’s had difficulties with drugs in the past, Signature’s heavily in debt, and Wax Seal came into money recently.”

“Any one of them might be the informant,” Daring said. “So how do we find out which one was it?”

“First, we learn as much as we can about them,” Phillip stated, closing the mirror and taking a bite of his salad wrap. “Then, we question them one at a time.”

Daring nodded her understanding. Wax Seal stood up and excused himself to head to the little stallion’s room. He walked past the two detectives on his way to the restroom; neither of them looked up at him as he passed.

“Hmm,” Phillip muttered. “Willow’s using.”

“What? How can you tell?” Daring asked, slightly alarmed.

“Look at her purse,” Phillip said, tilting the mirror so that Daring could see the black bag that the jenny had set on the table. Daring squinted at the bag and noticed a bracelet of some sort poking out an exterior pocket, decorated with black and red beads. Attached to the cord was a blue coin with a hole pierced through it. The coin was embossed with a number 9 in a triangle.

“That’s a sobriety coin,” Daring observed.

Phillip nodded. “Now look at her wrist.”

Daring squinted at the hoof that was still twirling the dyed mane. There was a faint white line around the wrist. “She normally wears that bracelet all the time,” she stated.

“Right. So why is she not wearing it?” Phillip stated. “Also note the bags under her eyes, the slight tremor to her hooves, the way she keeps licking her lips. All signs of withdrawal from a dose of red poppydust.”

Daring nodded. “Okay, what about Signature?”

Phillip studied his reflection over a few more bites of his salad wrap. “Gambler,” he concluded. “The lines and marks on the sleeves of his suit from where he rests his forelegs on the table, the late bill in the pocket of his suit, newspaper in his suit with Wonderbolt race results circled, the fact that he ordered two of the cheapest items on the menu, unhealthy appearance due to stress.” He thought for a moment. “I want you to check his car, see if there’s anything inside worth noting. You know which one it is?”

“The blue NeighSoho two-door,” Daring replied. “I can see the key hanging out of his inner pocket.”

“Ripper,” Phillip nodded. “Wait for you here.”

Daring smirked at him and flicked her tail at him, drawing it across his back as she exited. He didn’t turn to look at her, but his ears twitched backward as she exited the restaurant.

Wax Seal returned from the restroom and started to walk back to his table. Phillip turned to face him as he came close, an easy smile on his face.

“Hey, mate,” he called to Wax. “I hear you got a new Cougar.”

“Sure did!” Wax Seal replied, grinning. “Brand new and everything.”

Phillip gestured into the seat next to him and signaled the barkeeper for a cider. “I appreciate a stallion who knows his cars. Why don’t you tell me about it?”

Eager to brag to a pony willing to listen, Wax Seal jumped up onto the seat and grabbed up the offered cider. He began to boast of the Cougar’s stats, its engine power, multiple luxuries such as heated leather seats and a high-end radio, and terrible fuel economy. Phillip listened patiently, occasionally making a comment or question.

“I really think the Z8 series is superior,” Wax said, slurping up his drink. “But when you—” He paused, turning towards Phillip and fixing him with a look as though he’d just noticed that he was there. “Why do you want to know?”

Phillip placed his forelegs on the table, his expression molding into serious. “I’m with the police,” he stated. “I’m looking into the robbery.”

Wax Seal stared at Phillip for a few seconds while the gears turned in his head, then his eyes widened. “And you think I—”

“Doesn’t matter what I think,” Phillip said, raising a hoof. “What matters is what the police think. A new pony flashing about a new car and pulling in a new mare with a long, black mane and a misaligned top bicuspid?”

Wax Seal shifted in discomfort and adjusted the collar of his suit to cover the hickey on his neck and flicked off the long hair that was clinging to his sleeve. “Look, you gotta believe me,” he whispered quickly, his eyes focused on Phillip. “I got the car completely legit! I’ve been saving up for it for over a year! And the mare…” He cringed a bit. “I went to a bar three nights ago, I was flashing some drinks, and she came up...it was just sex, man! You gotta believe me!”

Phillip studied Seal’s face for a few seconds, his claim of innocence echoing faintly in the back of his mind like a recording. His intuition, refined through years of practice, analyzed the words, the tone, pitch, volume, and rate, and found them all satisfactory.

“I do,” Phillip nodded. “But I do need to check; somepony had to have helped the thieves. Do you have any idea who?”

Wax Seal shook his head. “No. But the only way they could’ve gotten their hooves on the keys to the vault is from the tellers; they’re the ones with the enchanted keys, and we’re supposed to keep them on us at all times.” He opened up an inner pocket in his suit and extracted a small golden key on a chain.

“And you’ve had it with you all the time?” Phillip asked.

“It never gets out of reach of me,” Wax Seal stated.

“Even when you were with the mare?” Phillip asked.

Wax Seal’s eyes widened slowly. “Describe her,” Phillip stated.

“Uh…unicorn. Black hair, but you knew that,” Wax said, scratching his head. “Red highlights. Pink coat. Cutie mark was uh...uh, a letter and a quill.”

Phillip made a mental note of the description, then stood and walked away from the bar, leaving Wax Seal alone with his thoughts. He walked over to the table where Signature and Willow still sat. Willow was feasting on a daisy salad with a side of nuts and yogurt, while Signature was miserably finishing up a hay bacon, lettuce and tomato wrap. The elder stallion finished off his meal, brushed off his suit, and walked off to the restroom.

Phillip started to walk past Willow, but then paused and looked back as if just registering something. “Oh, excuse me,” he said to Willow. “I couldn’t help but notice your sobriety coin.”

“Huh?” Willow looked around, startled. “Oh, yes, yes, that.”

“Nine months?” Phillip asked, reading off the number embossed on the coin. “That’s impressive. You should be proud of yourself.”

“Thank you,” Willow said slowly, her posture relaxing in response to the complement.

Phillip paused for a moment, then took in a breath. “So why aren’t you wearing it?” he asked.

Willow’s eyes darted back and forth as if looking for an escape. “I, er...they don’t let us wear jewelry on the job.”

“And wedding rings are an exception?” Phillip asked, glancing at the golden ring attached to the silver chain that the jenny wore around her neck.

Willow looked up, her eyes widening, then lowered her gaze.

“I understand,” Phillip stated. “Red poppydust is not an easy thing to deal with.”

“It was just a couple of times,” Willow whimpered. “I was tired...I needed a fix.”

“You don’t have to justify yourself to me,” Phillip replied. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a purple coin with a 10 embossed on it. “We all mess up from time to time.”

Willow blinked at the coin in amazement. “Poppydust?” she asked.

Phillip nodded. “I want you to understand, Willow,” he stated. “This is a serious position that you’re in. You could lose your job.”

“Oh, please don’t tell!” Willow cried.

“I won’t,” Phillip stated in a reassuring tone. “But you’re a suspect for being an inside pony for the thieves. The cops are already looking hard at you.”

“It wasn’t me!” Willow protested. “I don’t know anything about it! I—”

Her pleas to be believed were cut off by Phillip laying a hoof on her shoulder. He squeezed her shoulder reassuringly and gave her a small smile.

“Get some help,” he advised her in a quiet tone. “Talk to your sponsor. You can beat this.”

Willow smiled at him in relief and squeezed his hoof. Phillip looked up and spotted Signature Line leaving the restroom. “Good luck to you,” he said to Willow, standing up and following Signature out. It wasn’t until the door closed behind him that Willow realized that he’d left a small stack of coins next to her plate.

Signature Line walked into the chilly afternoon, trotting through the misty air towards his car. Phillip followed behind, staying in the stallion’s blind spot. As they approached a blue NeighSoho, they both saw a golden pegasus mare with a greyscale mane leaning against the driver’s side door, smoking a fag.

“Heya, Line,” Daring greeted Signature with a grin, huffing smoke out of her nostrils.

Signature Line paused a few feet from her. “Do I...know you?” he asked slowly.

“Saw you at the Smokey Rose,” Daring replied, flicking the cigarette away. “We’ve been keeping an eye on you.”

Signature Line’s eyes widened in shock, but Phillip, even from this far away, could see the matchbox sitting in the passenger seat of the NeighSoho. The white cardboard box was decorated with a pale pink rose, embossed on a background of swirling smoke. He almost smiled. Attagirl, Daring.

“I don’t know what you—” Signature Line started to protest.

“Coin Toss wants his money,” Daring cut in.

Signature’s face blanched white and both Daring and Phillip knew that she’d struck gold. It was no secret that the Smokey Rose was owned by Coin Toss, the local boss of the Mareish Mob.

“He’ll...I...you don’t…” he protested, staggering back from Daring. She advanced on him, taking three steps for his every two, still smirking. Phillip positioned himself behind Signature, causing the unicorn to bump into him. He whirled around to face Phillip, his face adorned with a look that made it very clear that he knew that he was trapped.

“You know what the Mareish Mob does to ponies to teach them a lesson?” Daring pressed. “We kneecap them. We take a drill and punch it through the sap’s kneecaps.” She sucked in a breath through her teeth. “I’ve seen it done. Nasty. You wanna find out what it’s like firsthoof?”

Signature Line’s mouth opened and closed several times, but he was unable to articulate a sentence. Daring and Phil both looked at each other, then turned to go. “Have fun learning how to walk again,” Daring called over her shoulder.

“Wait!” Signature Line called. Daring and Phillip paused, turning back.

“I...I can get the money for him within a week,” Signature Line stammered out. “I’ll have it soon.”

Daring turned around fully, looking interested. “So how’d you get your hooves on that?”

Signature Line’s mouth began to convulse again as he tried to form the words. “Uh...I...won the lottery?” he said in a tone that begged to be taken seriously.

Daring snorted and shook her head. “Nice try.” She studied him for a moment, then asked, “You were in on the bank robbery, weren’t you?”

Signature looked like he was going to protest, but then sighed and mopped his brow with a hoof. “Yes,” he admitted. “I gave them information on how to get inside the bank, told them about the security...I even had photographs taken for them.”

“How’d they get in touch with you?” Phillip asked.

“They...they approached me after work,” Signature Line stammered. “They said they could get me out of trouble if I helped them rob the bank.”

“Did you meet any of them?” Phillip asked.

“Once,” Signature Line said. “They brought me down to a house in the Industrial Section to discuss their plans. There were two of them there; a golden earth pony stallion with a purple mane and a dark red unicorn mare with a green mane.”

“That’s the best you can do?” Daring asked.

“I was nervous!” Signature Line said. “The room was dark, and they never told me their real names! I swear, that’s all I know!”

“What’s the address?’ Phillip asked.

“Twenty-seven Hermit Thrush Street,” Signature recited.

Daring looked at Phillip. He was silent for a moment, then nodded. She turned back to Signature Line and walked up to him. He retreated away from her, but was trapped against his car and left with no escape route.

“Go straight home,” Daring ordered, her smirk replaced by a severe expression. “Get what you need, and run. Never stop running.”

Signature Line stared at her for a moment, then rapidly nodded. He turned, fumbling his keys out of his pocket and trying to insert them into the door.

Daring and Phillip both turned and walked away. “Twenty-seven Hermit Thrush,” Daring repeated. “Shall we go for a stroll?”

“Not yet,” Phillip replied. “First we get the cops.”

Daring looked around at him, her eyebrows shooting up into her mane. “You sure?”

“I can’t do this job without their help,” Phillip said flatly. “And I’m in enough shit with them already.”

Daring sighed and rolled her eyes. “Like I said. Being the good guy sucks. Least when I was with the Family, I didn’t have to give a fuck what other ponies thought about me.”

“Daring…” Phillip started to say in a warning tone, but his voice trailed off. He was silent for a couple seconds, then exhaled through his nostrils.

Daring extracted a cigarette from her vest and inserted it into her mouth, biting down on the end. “Eh,” she muttered. “Fuck ‘em anyway.”

“Too right,” Phillip agreed as they exited the parking lot and turned up the sidewalk, heading towards a nearby trolley stop.

Author's Note:

A short chapter here, just to set up what happens next. I promise the next chapter will be more exciting!

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Comments

[The Bricklayer]

So, we've got our three suspects. Only question is now, who did or didn't do it?

Also, think I've found the perfect theme for Phil to compliment Daring's theme of "Bad Reputation" I posed on Discord.

[AlsoSprachOdin]

Luna was beginning to paint the darkening sky

More confusing lore. Is Luna a princess? Is she myth? Was she never Nightmare. Questions just never stop coming in this verse.