Ponyville Noire: Tails of Two Private Eyes

by PonyJosiah13

Case Four, Chapter Eight: Can't Take the Heat

The rain continued throughout the night and into the next morning. By the time that the clocks were striking nine, raindrops were still pattering against the windows of 221 Honeybee Bakery.

Phillip was sitting at his experiment table, bending over a microscope and scratching notes into a notebook next to him; he was wearing rubber gloves and a facial mask over his mouth and nose. Daring was laying on her side on the couch, reading a Jules Vanner novel.

“Whatcha doing?” she asked without looking up from the page.

“Experiment on identifying traces of poisons,” Phillip stated, turning back to a collection of small jars laid in a row in front of him, each of them carrying labels such as ‘Cyanide,’ ‘Antimony,’ ‘Thallium,’ and ‘Arsenic.’ He unscrewed the jar labeled ‘Strychnine’ and used a scoop to extract some of the pale brown dust.

Daring blinked up at him. “Uh...you’re being careful, right?” she asked.

“Yes,” Phillip replied, filling an eyedropper with clear liquid from another jar and dropping a couple drops on the strychnine sample. The liquid fizzed and bubbled slightly for a moment.

Daring watched for a moment, then shrugged. “Well, if you topple over and start foaming at the mouth, at least you’ll have someone to do mouth to mouth on your stupid ass.”

Phillip let out a snort. “Doing mouth to mouth on my ass wouldn’t help much.”

“Maybe you’d enjoy it,” Daring smirked, flicking her tail.

“Think I’d be a bit more worried about the fact that I was foaming at the mouth,” Phillip answered. She could hear the smile in his voice.

Both of them chuckled quietly for a moment before lapsing back into silence. A rumble of thunder rolled across the sky over their heads.

“Did you call Lily?” Daring asked.

“Yes,” Phillip answered, jotting down some notes. “Told her who killed Gold Dust.” He paused. “Told her that Gold was a brave pony.”

Daring was silent for a moment of contemplation, then tossed the book aside. “He was,” she declared, getting up off the couch. “He died because a bunch of greedy assholes wanted to take advantage of poor ponies dying and losing their homes. He deserves better than for us to be sitting here on our asses and letting the cops try to find the killer.”

Phillip turned around to face her. “Cold Case, Trace, and Red are more than good enough to find Charcoal.”

“So you’re just gonna sit here because Captain Bitch told you to?” Daring snapped at him. “Didn’t take you for a coward.”

Phillip’s eyes flashed and for a moment he looked like he was going to argue, but he stopped himself. He turned back towards the table for a moment, then grunted and used a scoop to dump the strychnine into a bucket on the floor next to him.

“You’re right,” he said, taking off his gloves and mask and tossing them into the bucket, which he then sealed. “Let’s check with Flash, see what he found.”

He walked over to the phone and picked it up, dialing in the number for the PPD. “This is Finder. Need to speak to Officer Sentry.” There was a silence, then Phillip frowned. “Didn’t check in? Odd. Any idea where he is?” Another silence, then, “No? Bugger.” He hung up, frowning.

“Not like him,” he muttered. “Sentry’s reliable. Wouldn’t just decide not to show up.”

“You think something happened?” Daring asked, feeling a knot starting to form in her stomach.

Before Phillip could answer, the phone rang, causing both ponies to jump slightly. Phillip answered it. “G’day, Finder and Do.”

“Phil, it’s Twilight,” the young mare’s voice replied. “You need to come down to my house as soon as you can. I think I figured out something that can defend against the Spark!”

“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Phillip replied and hung up. “Daring, need to get to Twilight’s house.”

“Okay, to Twilight’s house it is,” Daring said, affecting a lower Manehattanite accent. “Hurry up and get your stuff, my meter’s running.”

Shaking his head, Phillip swung his vest onto his shoulders and pulled on his hat as Daring grabbed her neck warmer and helmet. Both of them exited onto the rainy streets, and Daring took Phillip beneath the forelegs and swooped up into the air, streaking through the rain and wind to the north.

---

They arrived on the front porch of Twilight’s house within five minutes. The papier-mache skeleton was still digging its way out of the ground. Strangely, the rain didn’t seem to be affecting it in the slightest: Twilight must’ve put some spell on it to make it waterproof.

Phillip rapped at the door, which opened wide to bid them entry. They stepped into the hallway, both of them quickly shaking rainwater off themselves.

“Hello!” Twilight chirped, striding forward. Both Phillip and Daring noticed that she looked rather ragged: there were dark lines beneath her eyes, her mane was in disarray, and there were bread crumbs around her lips. A jet of warm air blew from out of nowhere, drying both ponies off in mere seconds. Unfortunately, this had the side effect of causing both of their coats to fluff up, giving them the appearance of giant hairballs.

“Oops!” Twilight cried, looking both aghast and amused.

Daring burst out laughing. “If you could see yourself!” she hooted, pointing at Phillip. Phillip just glared at her.

“Come in, I’ve got something you’ll want to see,” Twilight said eagerly, leading them down the hallway and back into the sitting room. Spike was sitting on the couch, swinging his legs back and forth happily. He waved as they entered.

“Nice to see you didn’t burn the place down,” Daring remarked as they filed inside.

Twilight gave her a dry look. "Have either of you seen Flash today?" she asked. "He didn't show up to work today." She paused for a beat, then added quickly, "That's not to say I was looking for him...I just...noticed, and..."

Daring snickered. "You're even worse at bluffing than Flash."

"You said you had something?" Phillip interrupted.

Twilight cleared her throat, glaring at Daring. “I was trying to think of a way that we could use to counter the Dragon’s Spark, and since I realized that you couldn’t count on a powerful enough unicorn being at the scene at the time, our best bet would be using a ward.” She pulled out a sheet of paper and dramatically unrolled it to reveal a geometric symbol that looked like an eight-pointed star, a decagon, and a teardrop all embossed onto one another. The entire drawing was surrounded by minutely detailed runes.

“That’s a ward?” Daring asked, tilting her head as she studied the drawing.

“A ward is a geometric construction that is designed to hold a spell or spells and apply them to an object, like clothing or a wall,” Twilight explained, setting the drawing down on the table. “Think of the symbol as a container for magic that keeps it from spoiling: the better the ward is, the stronger the spell it can contain, and the longer it will last.”

“And this is supposed to protect against the Dragon’s Spark?” Phillip asked.

Twilight nodded enthusiastically, a wide smile crossing her features. “Spike put me on the right path with suggesting that I keep it from using magic as a fuel, but I obviously can’t just use magic to repel magic. But once I figured out how to adapt Polaris’ Reverse Attraction Principle, the problem then became figuring out how to pair it with a Fireproofing charm, which—” Twilight’s speech was cut off by Daring placing a hoof over her mouth.

“Does it work, or doesn’t it?” Daring asked bluntly in response to Twilight’s glare.

Twilight spat out Daring’s hoof. “Yes, it does. Allow me to demonstrate.” She held up the paper in her magic in front of Spike. “Go ahead, Spike.”

Spike took in a deep breath and blew out a small jet of emerald flames at the paper. Impossibly, the flames struck the paper, then bent around like water flowing around a rock, licking at the paper, caressing it, but never setting it aflame.

“Crikey,” Phillip breathed in amazement. Daring’s wide-eyed stare demonstrated her silent agreement.

At a nod from Twilight, Spike turned off the flame. “This was just a small ward for a demonstration,” Twilight stated. “I can apply a larger, stronger ward to both of your vests right now! And because I added a more direct fireproofing charm, it’ll work against normal fire, too!”

“Uh, Twilight?” Spike cut in. “Are you sure you’re able to do that?”

“What’re you talking about, Spike?” Twilight asked, smiling woozily at him in a way that emphasized the bags under her eyes. A strand of her mane fell down over her eyes and she blew it aside with a puff. “I’ve only been awake for twenty-nine hours straight! And I got three hours of sleep before that!”

Phillip and Daring exchanged glances. “Maybe we should—” Daring started to say.

“No, no, don’t worry, it’s not an issue!” Twilight interrupted, her grin becoming rather manic. “I once did a full transfiguration study after staying awake for thirty-five hours straight studying!”

“And then you fell asleep before they could give you your score, and didn’t wake up for a full day and night,” Spike pointed out, but Twilight didn’t seem to hear him.

“Well, if you’re sure,” Phillip said, doffing his vest and holding it out to Twilight. Daring took off her shirt as well and held it out. Twilight took them both and placed them on the table. Shaking her head to refocus herself, she closed her eyes in concentration and lit up her horn. With a faint sizzling sound, glowing purple lines began to appear on the interior of the vestments, as if drawn by invisible hooves. The lines began to mark out the symbol that Twilight had shown them. The air became charged with static electricity, causing everypony’s hair to stand on end.

After a couple of minutes, the task was complete. The wards were etched into the clothing, still faintly glowing with the lavender magic. Twilight opened her eyes and let out a heavy breath of exhaustion, her posture slumping.

“You okay?” Phillip asked, instinctively moving to support her.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Twilight nodded rather breathlessly. “Just a bit tired.”

“Here,” Spike said, reappearing with a cup of coffee in his claw. “This’ll help.”

“Thanks, Spike,” Twilight said gratefully, chugging down the entire contents of the mug in one go.

“Yeah, helping her stay awake,” Daring snarked. “That’s gonna—”

Spike just gave her a quick wink and a grin.

“So, I did some more research into the Dragon’s Spark,” Twilight was saying, blinking heavily. “It’s last known location was in the possession of a noble descendant, a Duke...no, I think it was a Baron...in Fillyhoover, no, wait, Vanphia…and you can put it out with water, you just need a lot of it...” Her voice slurred into incomprehensible mutterings and she slumped over, her eyes crossing and a drowsy smile crossing her face.

Phillip stepped in and caught her right as she started to fall, allowing her to lay on his back. “Okay, Twilight, time for bed,” Spike declared, walking up the stairway.

“Yeah...bed good…” Twilight murmured. “Feelin’ real sleepy all of a sudden…”

Spike led Phillip and Daring up the stairs to Twilight’s bedroom. Her room featured an old, faded dusk purple throw rug with stars that lay beneath the legs of a single-size bed with blue sheets, also decorated with stars. The bedside table had several books contained in its shelves; atop it was an alarm clock, a daily calendar, and a glass vase that contained the bouquet of lavenders.

“Tell me a story, Spike,” Twilight slurred as the little dragon pulled back the sheets. “Like I used to when you were a baby.”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Once upon a time, there was a silly filly who stayed up too late. So she went to bed, got at least nine hours of sleep, and when she woke up, she and everypony else was much happier. The end.”

Phillip unceremoniously dumped Twilight onto the mattress, where she landed with a soft “Oomph” and a little bounce. “That was a terrible story!” Twilight whined. “Tell me a better one!”

“No. Go to sleep, Twilight,” Spike said, pulling the covers back over her. Twilight made a little grumbling noise that quickly turned into snoring. Spike smiled wearily and shook his head as the group exited.

“You put sleeping pills in her coffee?” Daring asked.

“It was the only way she was going to get any sleep,” Spike replied.

Daring smirked. “I’m starting to really like you,” she said.

“I heard about that Scorcher the police are looking for,” Spike said as they returned to the living room. “You’re gonna find him, right?”

“Bloody straight we will,” Phillip nodded.

At that moment, there was a knocking at the door. Spike looked up in alarm, then quickly bolted back up the stairs to hide. Phillip and Daring both walked up to the door and opened it. On the other side were Bumblebee and Prowl, both of them wearing police-issue raincoats that seemed to have done very little to protect them from the rain.

“What’re you two doing here?” Bumblebee asked. “Where’s Twilight?”

“She was helping us with a case,” Phillip answered. “She’s sleeping now. What’d you need?”

“We were hoping that Flash might be here,” Bumblebee answered. “You know, since he and Twilight…” He trailed off, frowning as he tried to think of the correct way to put it.

“Flash has been missing since last night,” Prowl reported. “He left straight at the end of his shift without telling us where he was going and did not report in today. He’s not at home, his equipment is still in his locker, and he’s not at any of his other usual hangouts.” She blinked at them and frowned suspiciously. “Do either of you know where he might be?” she asked.

Phillip and Daring looked at each other, the same question in each other’s eyes: Can we trust them?

“Guys, please,” Bumblebee pleaded. “Flash might be in trouble. We’re his partners, dammit, we gotta do something about that.”

Prowl nodded firmly; her face was expressionless, but the small twitching of her low-drawn lips gave away her concern.

Phillip frowned for a moment, then swallowed. “Might know where he is,” he stated. “Phoenix Housing.”

“What’s he doing there?” Prowl asked, eyebrows raising in surprise.

“Investigating the projects for us,” Phillip explained.

“For you?” Prowl asked, a cold edge added to her voice.

Phillip had to stop himself from taking a step back. “He volunteered to help us with the investigation into the Everfree fires,” he stated. “Asked him to keep an eye on Phoenix Housing.”

“So you sent him on an unauthorized investigation, on his own, without any backup, and expected that to go well?” Prowl growled. Daring’s eyes went to the thestral mare’s fangs and she felt herself tensing up.

“...might not have been a good idea,” Phillip muttered.

“You’re damn right it wasn’t a good idea!” Prowl shouted. “Now come on! We’re going to Phoenix Housing!”

She turned and headed back towards the cruiser that was parked out front, with Bumblebee right behind her. Phillip and Daring followed her, sliding into the backseat. Daring barely had time to close the doors before the car pulled away with a growl of an engine and the hissing of tires rushing through puddles.

“If we find out that Sentry got himself killed because of this,” Prowl said, speaking to them through the bars that separated the backseat from the front seats, “I will make both of your lives hell.”

Daring shifted slightly. “Well, I’m convinced that we can trust them,” she muttered to Phillip as they sped to the east.

---

The cruiser pulled up to the end of the drive leading into the housing project with a screech and a splash of mud. The ponies inside exited as one, turning to face the houses that stood in defiance of the wind and rain. There were no construction workers on the site today due to the weather, but the security guards were still standing post.

Five guards halted the group as they approached. The large unicorn who had sprayed Phillip stepped forward, scowling. “We don’t need cops around here,” he growled.

“Stand aside,” Prowl ordered.

“You’re intruding,” the unicorn replied. “Step off.” He and the other guards stood straighter, their shoulders hunching and heads lowering slightly as they glared, preparing for a fight. Phillip’s hoof went to the pocket that contained his baton, while Daring prepared to draw her kusarifundo.

Prowl glared back at the guards, one hoof going towards her holster. “We have probable cause to search this area,” she announced. “As long as you stand in our way, you are interfering with police officers performing their lawful duties. I will ask you one more time: Stand. Aside.”

The guards glared back at the officers for a brief moment, then the unicorn snarled, “Get ‘em, boys!” As one, the guards surged forward as their leader lit up his horn.

But Daring was not about to let him take the advantage again. With a flick of the wrist, she snapped her kusarifundo out, entangling the unicorn’s left foreleg, and yanked back hard, dropping her hips as she pulled. The larger unicorn stumbled right towards her, and she unleashed a powerful twisting elbow strike to his jaw, dazing him.

"Here's mud in your eye!" Daring taunted as she compressed the unicorn's foreleg in a lock, driving him facedown into the ground. Spluttering on the muck, the guard looked up just in time to receive a powerful kick to the jaw, knocking him out.

Dodging a wild swing from a tall red attacker, Phillip struck the other pale yellow guard in the knee with his baton, momentarily halting his advance, then seized the red pony’s foreleg in a lock and pummeled him over the head with his baton, bringing him to the ground. The yellow guard bellowed and charged at him from behind, but Phillip halted him with a mule kick to the gut and finished him off with a baton strike to the temple.

Prowl easily defeated the heavyset blue pegasus that charged her with a simple hoof strike to the chest, outer reap takedown and kick to the jaw, while Bumblebee took on the last guard by immediately tackling him to the ground and punching him in the face until he stopped moving. The four allies were left breathing quickly from the exertion, but unhurt.

Retrieving some more hoofcuffs from the cruiser, Bumblebee and Prowl cuffed each of the unconscious guards, leaving them laying in the mud. “Bee, Daring, you two watch them,” Prowl instructed. “Phillip, we need to start searching this place.”

“Okay, boss,” Bumblebee nodded, glaring at their captives. Daring remained behind with Bumblebee while Phillip followed Prowl down the drive towards the houses of the project.

“Start with that one,” Phillip said, pointing at a mostly-completed home closest to them. Prowl nodded and the two detoured towards it.

Pushing open the door, Phillip entered the hallway of the house and walked into what would become the living room. The first thing that he saw was a small gas heater on the floor, with an empty ravioli can next to it. “Somepony’s been staying here,” he muttered, his eyes going towards a deflated air mattress in the corner. Sitting atop the mattress was a long strand of red hair.

Prowl opened her mouth and seemed to exhale sharply, though Phillip did not hear anything. Her ears wiggled. “There’s somepony downstairs,” she declared, already turning towards the stairway.

They descended the stairs into the basement, both of them pulling out flashlights and turning them on. The beams of light revealed the undecorated stone walls and floors of the basement. Walls that outlined the rooms were in place, turning the basement into a small maze. The clicking of their hooves on the cold stone seemed disproportionately loud.

“This way,” Prowl said, leading Phil down a hall. They walked down the hall, turned the corner, and paused, staring in shock. Their flashlights illuminated Flash: he was standing on his hind legs, held up only by his front hooves, which were secured to an overhead pipe with coils of rope: more rope bound his wings to his sides. A strip of duct tape sealed his mouth shut: his face and body were bloodied and bruised and he was standing in a puddle of his own urine.

“Flash,” Prowl breathed in horror as she and Phillip rushed over. Phillip gently wrapped his hooves around Flash’s torso and peeled the tape off his mouth while Prowl pulled out a pocketknife and started cutting the rope binding him to the pipe. Flash stirred with a moan and his eyes flickered open, fear flickering behind the dull pain and exhaustion.

“Sarge? Phil?” he whimpered.

“Shh, shh, it’s us,” Phillip whispered. “It’s us, mate. You’re safe now.”

Prowl cut through the rope and Flash collapsed fully into Phillip’s grasp. Phillip and Prowl both looped one of Flash’s forelegs over themselves. “You’re gonna be okay,” Prowl said as they started to half-carry, half-drag him back down the hallway. “We’ll get you out of—”

She abruptly stopped in place, looking up. Phillip looked up and felt his heart skip a beat. Standing at the mouth of the hallway was Charcoal, adorned in turnout jacket, gas mask, boots, and flamethrower. His face hidden behind the tinted lenses, he raised the hoof with the gauntlet and aimed it at them.

“Shit!” Phillip shouted, grasping Flash with both forelegs and diving to his right, through an open doorway. Prowl started to draw her gun but had to dive after them, narrowly avoiding a jet of flames that roared through the air towards her. Scrambling back to his hooves, Phillip tossed Flash over his shoulders and ran down the hallway. Prowl rushed after them, dropping her revolver with a clatter.

Mere feet ahead was an open doorway to the left. Phillip rushed forward, pushing himself towards his goal as hard and fast as he could, Prowl right on his tail. But just as he was within reach of the doorway, another jet of flames roared past his shoulder and struck the wall. Burning napalm dripped down the wall and onto the floor, blocking off the doorway with a seemingly solid wall of fire. Flash screamed as Phillip came to an abrupt halt, flinching away from the scalding heat. Prowl nearly crashed right into them.

Panting, Phillip and Prowl searched for another exit, but there was none: the walls to their right and their front were solid concrete, as was the low ceiling. Charcoal approached them, moving at a calm, languid pace, no hurry at all as he prepared to roast them alive. Illuminated by the half-light of the flames, his form became monstrous and terrifying: the lenses of his gas mask seemed to glow as they reflected the fire, the mask itself distorting his head and face into an inequine shape.

“Oh, shit,” Prowl breathed, her yellow eyes wide with terror and her shoulders heaving with every curse. “Oh, shit, oh, shit, oh, shit, oh, shit.”

Phillip looked past Charcoal and spotted Prowl’s revolver lying on the floor, only a couple feet behind Charcoal. He looked down at his vest, recalling the ward Twilight had applied. He looked up at Charcoal, who had paused, head tilted to the side as he considered his prey before him.

This better work, Twilight, he thought with a swallow. He lowered his rear to the ground, allowing Flash to gently slide off his back and onto the floor. Both officers looked up at him in confusion as he stepped forward, unzipping his vest.

Spurred to action, Charcoal raised his foreleg and aimed it at Phillip. As if the motion was a starting gun in a race, Phillip raced forward, fully undoing his vest and draping it over his head and shoulders like a shield. A jet of flame roared out of Charcoal’s gauntlet.

The flames struck the vest and washed around it, flowing to encircle his body. The heat transferred through the enchanted cloth: Phillip felt the burns forming on his forelegs and had to clench his teeth against the pain. He choked on a breath that scalded his throat and lungs and closed his mouth; the flames assaulted his eyes with a hot, stinging volley and he fought to keep them open. Against every instinct, he continued to run forward, towards the Scorcher, the heat and the pain intensifying with every step.

He bowled into Charcoal, knocking them both to the floor with grunts. Quickly rolling off of his enemy, Phillip spotted the revolver and dived for it: the metal barrel blistered his hoof as he spun it towards him and slid his hoof through the strap, rolling onto his back. Charcoal had tossed his vest aside and was struggling to get to his hooves, weighed down by his fuel tank.

Phillip squeezed the trigger. The revolver barked loudly and a .38 slug flew from its barrel, striking true into Charcoal’s skull. The pony’s head snapped backward and he collapsed to the ground. Blood leaked from the hole in his head, reddish-orange in the glow of the flames.

Panting, Phillip got back to his hooves, regathered his vest and ran back to Prowl and Flash. He tossed his vest over Flash’s head, giving him some protection against the flames.

“What the hell was that?” Prowl asked in disbelief as she and Phillip hoisted Flash back up.

“Twilight’s work,” Phillip answered. He and Prowl began to carry Flash back down the hallway, stepping over Charcoal’s body. Rushing back up the stairs, they hurried through the living room, coughing and choking on the thick smoke that was wafting through the building, and pushed through the front door. The rain greeted them like an old friend, the cold, wet air soothing their throats and their stinging eyes. Phillip hissed as the water assaulted the burns on his skin, but ignored the pain as he and Prowl carried Flash over to a nearby concrete mixer that was covered by a tarp.

Bumblebee and Daring rushed over. “Flash!” Bumblebee cried as soon as he got close. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“‘M okay…” Flash muttered, coughing. "She...didn't hurt me...too bad..."

Prowl tore the tarp off the mixer and laid it on the ground. Phillip gently set Flash down onto the tarp, wrapping his vest around his torso to keep him warm. Flash shivered in the cold and let out a soft whimper of mingled pain and fear, but nodded and gave Phillip a weak but genuine smile. “Thank you,” he croaked. Phillip smiled back and gently patted him on the shoulder.

Daring grasped Phillip’s shoulders and spun him around, her wide eyes scanning the burns on his forelegs and face. “Shit,” she breathed through clenched teeth.

“I’m fine,” Phillip reassured her, laying a hoof on her shoulder.

“What happened?” Daring asked, refusing to let go of his shoulders.

“Charcoal,” Phillip stated. “He’s dead.”

Daring relaxed her grip slightly, turning to look back at the house. Thick plumes of black smoke were now pouring out of the building.

“It’s not over, is it?” she asked as Bumblebee sprinted back to the cruiser to radio for an ambulance and a paddywagon.

“No,” Phillip replied, remembering the red hair on the mattress. “The other one’s still out there. The one with the Spark.”

Daring let out a noise that was a half-sigh, half-growl. “Fucking great.”

Author's Note:

Flash was almost a flash in the pan!

I'll see myself out...

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Comments

[The Bricklayer]

...Stay out of the burning house. Sorry, had to continue that.

So, Charcoal's dead, but the loon who has the Spark is still out there... Probably used the confusion to escape, if he was ever there at all.

[Micro-song]

This is the only story I've read that made me care about Flash. Amazing!

[PonyJosiah13]

8700563
I must've done something right, then!

[Edukas]

Echolocation? Cool.

I wonder if that'd be canon, it'd be pretty amazing skill. And you're actually the only one I've seen to explain a little more in detail how they do it. I'm impressed

[PonyJosiah13]

8701595
It makes sense to me, seeing as they're technically part bat.

I also headcanon that thestrals eat bugs, much to the disgust of most other ponies.

[Titan Commander Sebaste]

Talk about things heating up!

I'll let myself out....

[AlsoSprachOdin]

The rain continued throughout the night and into the next morning

Well damn, I guess that's it for Flash if he didn't get a chase scene.

Daring was laying on her side on the couch, reading a Jules Vanner novel.

Again, I'm unsure about the Joules Verse thing.

Their flashlights illuminated Flash:

Huh. And here I thought he' be well done.