Case Twelve, Chapter Four: Regroup and Reexamine
“The situation is grave indeed,” Luna agreed moments later at the precinct, pacing at the head of the commandeered meeting room that they’d acquired.
Phillip looked around at the gathered ponies. Rainbow Dash was standing nearby with Daring Do. Cold Case stood on his opposite side, chewing on her unlit pipe: Twilight stood next to the chief, holding the battered tome before her. Princess Celestia had indeed arrived in a chopper, along with several more Royal Guards and a squadron of Wonderbolts in lightly armored flight suits: she was currently sitting next to Luna, adorned in her own gold cuirass with her halberd by her side, the four Royal Guards standing at attention close to their charges. The walls were currently faintly glowing with a yellow aura, a symptom of Celestia’s protective charms that prevented any magical eavesdropping.
“Our priority must be to find the Innsbeak Statues and destroy them and, if possible, destroy the necklace that Zugzwang bears,” Luna declared, her eyes blazing with passion. “This pony who took them, who is he?”
“We believe his name is Red Clover,” Cold Case stated, holding up a mugshot of a red unicorn, his face sullen beneath his mussy green and brown mane. A snapshot of his cutie mark revealed it to be a green circle with the shape of a four-leaved clover cut out of the center. “A former member of the Mareish Mob until he and some friends of his split away from Coin Toss and started smuggling and selling drugs on their own a couple months ago. We’re checking on his known hideouts, but I doubt we’ll find anything there.”
“So use the diamond that Phil found and track the statues,” Daring stated.
“Would that it were so simple, Daring Do,” Celestia shook her head. “Unfortunately, the Statues are clouded by dark magic: the one gem is not enough to find them. We will likely need the other three that this thief possesses. And before you ask, we cannot track the other diamonds for the same reason.”
“I can figure out where he is,” Phillip stated. “He’s in the Under.”
“What’s the Under?” Twilight asked as Cold Case bit down harder on the pipe stem with a loud crunch.
Daring glanced at Twilight in confusion. “Right, I keep forgetting you’re not a native,” she muttered. “The Under is what we call a network of underground ruins of Ponyville. Buried houses and tunnels, most of it blocked off from the upper city: criminals have been using sections of those tunnels for hideouts and smuggling for years. The Family used to use parts of it for temporary hideouts and shortcuts, but we never went down there deep: there are some things down there that are best left alone.”
“How do you bury a city?” Rainbow Dash asked.
“Fires, earthquakes, floods, tornadoes, the odd monster attack or bombing, and just the flow of progress,” Daring explained. “Parts of the city crumble and fall, and they decide to rebuild on top of the ruins.”
“If he’s underground, that would explain why my tracking spell didn’t work,” Twilight mused. “The ground would be blocking my magic.”
“We have maps of the Under; they're not complete by a long shot, but they'll help,” Cold Case announced. “But we still need more information.”
“I have other clues,” Phillip stated. “We’ll need time, but we can run him to ground.”
“Where do we begin?” Cold asked.
“Our mate’s name is Clover, Mareish,” Phillip said. “The dead pony, he was somepony that Clover knew. And we need to track Clover’s movements after he got onshore. Any clue we can find is helpful.”
“I will subpoena Night Waltz’s phone records, and have Detectives Herring and Evidence scouring for any clues on the dockside,” Cold Case stated, already heading for the door.
“Chief Case,” Luna called after her. “I strongly suggest that you advise everypony here to keep as many doors open as possible. It is unlikely that Zugzwang used the key on any doors here, but we do not want to take risks.”
“Good idea,” Cold nodded, then turned to the gray-maned donkey that was running his hoof up and down his rosary necklace. "Captain Oak, I need you to hold down operations here. If anything happens to--"
"Nothing will happen to you, chief," Hewn Oak cut her off. "You have the holy might of two alicorns with us. We cannot fail."
"Wish we all had your faith," Cold replied softly as she exited.
“I’ll try to do more research on the statues and the Key of Shadow Walker,” Twilight stated, opening the book. “There might be some weaknesses we can exploit, maybe a way to find him.”
“I can summon any books from the Royal Archives that will help you,” Luna stated.
“Commander Spitfire, you have the list of ponies that might be used as leverage. The Wonderbolts are to bring them here to the precinct,” Princess Luna commanded. “Once curfew is announced, you will patrol the cities to help the police maintain the peace.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” the yellow pegasus mare saluted. A quick wave signaled the other Wonderbolts to exit in a rush of blue.
A thought crossed Phillip’s mind. “Princesses, something you might want to know,” he stated. “Based on reading from the Kyaltratek, we think that Zugzwang might be...or be connected with something called a Ngluwi.”
Both Luna and Celestia froze, snapping their narrowed gazes towards him. “What makes you say that?” she asked.
“Black eyes,” Phillip said. “Cold as death. And the markings on his skin, I’ve seen them. I’ve seen…” He paused, swallowing and glancing to one side, and Daring suppressed a flinch as the memories flooded her mind as well, the still images from the security crystals.
“I’ve seen what he is now,” Phillip stated quietly.
Celestia and Luna both glared at each other. “‘Tis good that we both came, then,” Luna said grimly.
At that moment, the door opened and a blue unicorn sprinted in, panting and mopping sweat from his blonde mane. “Sergeant Arc Light, reporting for duty!” he cried, snapping a salute at the broad-shouldered brown earth pony Guard.
Captain Eagle saluted Arc back briefly with a wry smile. “Nice of you to join us, Arc,” he deadpanned. “Sorry to take you away from your coltfriend, but we kind of need you more at the moment.”
“Yes, sir,” Arc nodded, catching his breath. He touched the green gem that hung from around his neck: in a flash of light, his armor and gear were summoned to him, fitted perfectly to his form. He strapped the helmet in tight and checked his N4 submachine gun.
“Let’s get to work,” Phillip said. “Start with Doctor Mortis.”
“I’ll go with,” Daring added. “No way you’re leaving my sight now.”
“I’ll come too!” Rainbow Dash offered.
“No way in hell,” Daring snapped. “It’s bad enough that Phil brought you into this already—”
“Daring,” Phillip interrupted. “We might as well let her help. If we can keep her with us, we can keep an eye on her. You know she’ll just wander off on her own if we leave her.”
Rainbow nodded in confirmation. Daring fumed for a few seconds, then sighed and gave a brief nod of defeated assent. Rainbow beamed with pride.
As the trio descended the stairs, Phillip glanced over Daring’s shoulder. “You find anything at Scarlet’s?”
“I did,” Daring confirmed. “She had a mirror there, too. Just like at the hideout, and what I saw at Spark’s first base. I’m thinking we can track that...but later. The zombie apocalypse kind of takes priority, after all.”
“Good,” Phillip nodded. He was silent as they rounded a landing, then sighed. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”
“Well, I wasn’t chasing yowies, was I?” Daring smirked a bit. Phillip paused and shot her a shadowed look over his shoulder. “Sorry,” Daring apologized, her smirk deflating. “But you were kinda right. I’m lucky it wasn’t a complete waste of time, and you needed to get to Waltz. If you’d arrived later, we might have lost this completely.”
Phillip nodded. They reached the bottom step and pushed through the doorway, following the sound of classical music down the hall.
Inside the laboratory, Doctor Suunkii was bending over a table, his eye pressed to a microscope lens. Doctor Mortis was standing on the opposite side of the table, speaking quietly to him.
“Aren’t you in the wrong room, doc?” Daring asked Mortis.
“I, uh, didn’t want to be in the morgue alone with our new friend,” Mortis admitted sheepishly. “You sure he’s not gonna get up and bite me?”
“One, this isn’t a zombie infection, doctor,” Phillip stated. “Not transferred by bites. Second, he has a hole in his brain. Not worried about that.” Noting Mortis’ continued reluctance, he sighed. “I’ll go with you and make sure he doesn’t wake up.”
“Yay!” Mortis chirped, bouncing towards the morgue. Phillip and Daring exchanged eye rolls as he followed her.
“What have we got here?” Daring asked, approaching Suunkii.
“Despite Doctor Vitae Mortis’ reluctance to be alone with the body, she and I were able to collect evidence from his clothing,” Suunkii reported, nodding to a faded dark hooded sweatshirt on the table. “I am currently examining dirt trace from the clothing. I believe you may be able to glean some information from the contents of his pockets.”
He pointed to a small packet on the other table. Daring carefully opened it and shook the contents out onto the table to study.
“A generic matchbook, a stub from a taxi, some loose cigarettes, safe deposit key, loose change, phone number written on napkin with logo on it,” Daring recounted.
“Maybe the phone number is a clue!” Rainbow said, snatching at the napkin. It was imprinted with a triskelion in green and orange; the phone number was written in blue ink, with a part of it rewritten in black ink where it had been smudged by a light stain.
Daring caught Rainbow’s hoof. “One thing at a time, kid,” she said. She studied the taxi receipt. “Thirty-eight bits, Windfall Cab...timestamp at 11:18. That’s...about the same time he would’ve arrived at Night Waltz’s place. Twenty-eight bits, so that’s…”
“A journey of approximately eighteen miles,” Suunkii reported, not looking up from the microscope.
“I’d have figured it out eventually,” Daring grumbled.
“I thought it would be prudent to save as many minutes as possible,” Suunkii replied with a small smirk, still not looking up. Daring stuck her tongue out at him as she pulled out a map of Ponyville. Locating the Apex Building, she used a compass to draw a circle around the building that encompassed several blocks. “Okay, so he took the taxi to Waltz's place from somewhere in here.”
“That’s still a big search area,” Rainbow mused. “There’s gotta be some way to narrow it down…”
At that moment, they all heard it from outside: the growing wail of klaxons, howling from the speakers placed every few blocks. At the same time, the classical music from the radio was interrupted by a blare of static, then the buzzing tones of the emergency broadcast alert. They froze, looking up at the ceiling. Though the basement laboratory had no windows, Daring could imagine the civilians outside freezing at the sound, looking around and clutching loved ones close, some perhaps instinctively gazing up at the skies in search of the Griffonese or Crystal Air Force bombers that were rushing in from the east.
“ATTENTION, CITIZENS,” a magnified voice boomed from the loudspeakers, audible across the entire city: a quieter echo sounded from the radio. “BY ORDER OF THE CITY OF PONYVILLE, AN EMERGENCY CURFEW IS IN EFFECT. ALL CITIZENS ARE TO RETURN INDOORS IMMEDIATELY. PLEASE REMAIN CALM: THE SITUATION IS BEING HANDLED. YOU ARE NOT IN IMMINENT DANGER. REPEAT: AN EMERGENCY CURFEW IS IN EFFECT…”
At that same moment, there came a great crackling noise of electricity, and the air suddenly became heavier. “What’s that noise?” Rainbow asked.
“That is the emergency barricade activating over the precinct,” Suunkii reported; he had looked up from his microscope and was now staring at the ceiling as though he could see through it. “As of now, no one can come in or go out without our knowledge and permission.”
Even without seeing it with her own eyes, Daring could picture it clearly: the flickering, semi-transparent dome of purple energy, powered by several emergency magic generators buried around the perimeter of the building, having sprung up to encompass the precinct like a giant snow globe. Similar ones would no doubt be springing up around City Hall, Ponyville General Hospital, the major fire stations, and other important structures. None of these had gone up since the last bombing raids of the Crystal War in 1944. A sick feeling settled into her stomach, and her shoulders were suddenly bowed beneath the weight of the city’s growing confusion and terror.
Daring sighed. “We’re in it now, ponies.” She turned back to the scant clues before them. “I hope Phil can find something…”
Mortis waited for the sound of the klaxons to fade before leaning back to the microphone on the desk next to the examination table.
“The subject has already been identified by cutie mark and tattoo records as Black Dust, a member of the Mareish Mob,” she stated, the spinning reels of the tape recorder marking down her words for posterity. “The first thing to note on the exterior examination is the bullet hole in the subject’s forehead: this was from Detective Phillip Finder during his initial, ah, confrontation with the subject.”
Adjusting her glasses and facemask, Mortis started to slowly scan down the body of the gray earth pony from the head. “I think I found the…” She paused to think. “First fatal wound. A stab wound in the victim’s left side, just over the kidney. Death would’ve been from exsanguination, within thirty seconds.”
Phillip studied the wound with a magnifying glass. “Downward angle and longer length of the stab wound. Likely caused by a taller pony, walking past Dust,” he deduced, his own voice slightly muffled by his own facemask.
“That, for the record, is Detective Finder himself,” Mortis said aloud, examining the wound herself. “And I tend to agree. The victim would’ve bled out within seconds, and then, uh…” She paused. “Would’ve been resurrected.”
“Doctor, I need to learn more about where he was before he died,” Phillip said.
“Right,” Mortis said, continuing her examination. She scraped off soil samples from the stallion’s hooves into plastic dishes for later examination, snipped off some hairs from his mane and tail, then gently pulled his jaw open with her magic and started to examine his mouth with a flashlight.
“Huh. Recent food bits in his teeth,” she stated. “The subject was probably eating right before he met with ‘Clover.’” She paused the recorder and pulled out a scalpel. “Let’s see what was for lunch!” she declared with a little too much eagerness.
Phillip’s stomach abruptly growled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Oh, well. I’m about to lose my appetite anyway.
He watched as Mortis efficiently sliced a Y-shaped incision into the body’s torso, then started to peel away the skin. The sound of a buzzing hoofsaw sounded as Phillip studied the soil samples in the dishes beneath a nearby microscope.
“Concrete,” he mused. He sniffed the sample, then quickly drew away with a grimace. “Beer, cigarettes, and hydraulic fluid.”
“There we go,” Mortis announced, removing the carefully cut ribcage to access Dust’s internal organs. “We’ll start with the stomach.”
The sound of torn flesh and pouring liquid released a horrid scent that did indeed banish Phillip’s appetite. “Let’s see…” Mortis said, poking through the half-digested mess in the dish. “The stomach is mostly full, and there’s some chyme in the duodenum, but the jejunum is empty. I believe that the victim had eaten approximately one to two hours before death.” She turned over the chunks of food. “Looks like...potatoes, eggs...peppers, onions, cabbage, kale...smells like oregano and black pepper...some kind of meat…”
“Corned beef,” Phillip said, sniffing briefly at the pinkish wedges. “Colcannon and corned beef hash.”
“Mareish down to the bone; or stomach, in this case,” Mortis nodded.
“Hey, Phil?” a voice called from the door. Phillip looked up to see Flash and Trace standing at the doorway. Flash kept glancing sideways at the dissected corpse on the table, shifting in place as he fought the urge to retreat.
“Go on, I’ve got it from here,” Mortis said. “If he hasn’t woken up by now, he’s not going to...hopefully.”
Phillip gratefully exited the morgue and stepped into the hallway, making sure to keep the door open behind him. He tried not to think about the security images from that night.
Flash spoke first. “I was thinking about ways to track the guy after he got onshore, and I had an idea,” he said. “I started looking for reported car thefts from the Dockside from around that time, and I think I found something.” He passed over a folder. Phillip scanned over the report within: a night shift worker at a local factory had left work at 6:30 AM to find that his car, a dark blue Chevroneigh Luxury, was missing from the parking lot; the only sign that the car had ever been there were some broken glass shards in the parking space and some drops of blood leading up to the now-empty space.
“The car was found in an alleyway in the northern part of the Industrial District, near Wintersteel road,” Flash said, turning the page to reveal photographs of the car in a dead-end alleyway, the driver’s side window broken and the steering column busted open to reveal the hotwired interior. Spots of blood bedecked the driver’s seat. “I checked security crystals for the street, and found this.”
A set of stills revealed a tall red unicorn stallion, his green and brown mane in a sweaty mess, clutching his gray trench coat around him, exiting the alleyway at 4:58 AM. Red Clover.
“There's an entrance to the Under near that alley,” Flash nodded.
“Good work, jackaroo,” Phillip nodded approvingly. Flash had to suppress a glow of pride.
“Also, the subpoena came back,” Trace said, handing over some papers. “That call that Clover made to Night Waltz before he died was from a phone booth on Seventeenth and Cooper.”
“Hmm,” Phillip mused, turning over the facts in his head. “Let’s see where Suunkii and the others are.”
As they proceeded to the laboratory, Phillip glanced over at Flash. “Your mom here?” he asked.
“Yeah, and Spike, Suunkii’s family, Red’s ex-wife and son, your parents, and the band,” Flash confirmed. He tried to keep his tone flat, but the worry leaked into his syllables. It echoed in Phillip’s own heart.
“They’ll be safe here,” Phillip said, not sure who he was trying to reassure. Flash nodded and tried to smile, but looked like he was trying not to be sick.
“Boys, think of it this way,” Trace said. “The faster we find that creep, the faster they’ll all be safe.”
“Right,” Phillip nodded, entering the lab.
“You got anything to narrow this down?” Daring asked as he approached, displaying the map with its circled search area.
"Clover entered the Under here," Phillip stated, drawing a dot on the alleyway where he'd been spotted, just outside the circle. "Called Night Waltz here," he added, placing another dot at the phone booth.
"Stands to reason that wherever he's hiding is somewhere near there," Daring nodded, drawing a smaller circle that enclosed those two dots.
Phillip looked at the napkin with the phone number written upon it. “That triskelion...that’s a Mareish symbol, isn’t it? That stain’s fresh, and he was eating Mareish food before he died.”
“There is a Mareish restaurant right...here,” Daring said, placing a dot on Fifteenth Street.
Phillip thought for a moment, his mind going back to the concrete that reeked of oil and hydraulic fluid. “There any construction sites near there?”
“Yeah, here,” Rainbow reported, adding another dot further down the street from the restaurant. “I think it’s an old parking garage that’s getting torn down and turned into apartments.”
“Seems Dust walked past it from there,” Phillip said, tracing a line between the two dots, a line which was heading parallel to Seventeeth. “Clover must've met him somewhere along his route...but where?”
Suunkii was still bent over the microscope, frowning in thought. “That is fascinating,” he mused.
“Whatcha got?” Phillip asked.
“This is trace from the back of Black Dust’s sweatshirt,” Suunkii said. “There appear to be some chips from some kind of...fresco in there. They are almost microscopic in size. Come and look at this.”
Phillip pressed his eyes to the scope and was greeted with the incredibly tiny but impossibly detailed painted face of a hooded pony sitting amidst what looked like brick dust and tiny splinters. More tiny fragments of the painting, each on a thin piece of plaster—the largest of which was, by a quick mental calculation, no more than half a centimeter wide—were scattered along the slide.
“What’s the rest of it?” Phillip asked, looking up.
“Brick dust and walnut wood,” Suunkii reported, turning to a line of test tubes that were set up in a rack on the desk. His gaze swept over the tubes, studying the colors of each reagent, and he frowned. “Odd. These chemical tests indicate that the bricks are using a composite of materials that have not been used in...hundreds of years.”
Daring pressed her eyes to the scope as well, humming in thought as she studied the fresco pieces. “You said that this is from the back of the hoodie?”
“Correct,” Suunkii nodded.
“Then this might’ve been transferred from Clover when he patted Dust on the back,” Daring mused, staring at the map. She tapped her head in thought, then her face suddenly brightened with an idea. “I think I know where he’s hiding!”
“What? Where?” Phillip asked.
“The Church of Sainted Skies,” Daring said. “I remember reading about it in a book on the history of Ponyville. It was located right...here,” she said, pointing to a spot in the Industrial District within the smaller circle. “It had a huge frescoed ceiling that it was famous for, but it was partially destroyed and buried in the Tatzlwurm Quakes of 1764 and never excavated. That whole neighborhood eventually got paved over. And if I recall, there’s an entrance to the Under right near...there,” she pointed to a single spot right near the construction site that Dust had passed.
“It makes sense,” Suunkii mused. “That would explain this brick dust and the paint chips.”
“We’ll have to go down there after him,” Phillip said grimly. “Flash, get Cold Case and the Princesses.”
“Right!” Flash saluted and ran off.
“I’m going to go down there and scout out the entrance, make sure it’s open,” Daring said. “I’m going to need you two with me.”
“Cool! We’re going to the Under!” Rainbow whooped, headed out the door.
“Ripper,” Phillip muttered, but his eyes drifted up towards the ceiling.
“I will check on your parents,” Suunkii reassured Phillip, patting his friend on the shoulder.
“Thanks, Suun,” Phillip said, managing a small smile. He exited and followed Rainbow and Daring up the stairs and into the lobby. Several citizens were now packed into the small room, pedestrians and passerby who had rushed into the police department at the first sign of trouble. The din was practically a living thing on its own, dozens of worried parents and family trying to soothe frightened and crying children, demanding answers, seeking solace in each others hollow words. Outside, the purple dome of energy that encircled the building buzzed and crackled, letting out a low, constant hum like a pitch pipe.
As Daring, Phillip, and Rainbow watched, a trio of officers approached the barrier to let in a pony that was frantically pounding against the wall. Sergeant Macwillard passed a glowing purple wand over the wall, opening up a hole just large enough for the pony to enter, then limped back as the hole closed, covering the quivering civilian with his shotgun. One of the other officers, trying to keep his sidearm from shaking, stepped forward and grasped the visitor’s foreleg, feeling a pulse. He sighed in relief a moment later and proceeded to quickly pat the pony down before allowing them entry.
“Hey, it’s Phillip Finder and Daring Do!” one of the citizens cried. Instantly, there was a mob around them, begging for answers, begging for relief, aid, comfort. The sound threatened to drown them.
“We don’t have the answers yet,” Phillip said through gritted teeth, trying to push through the crowd. “We’re working on it. Let us work…”
“OUT OF THE FUCKING WAY! WE’VE GOT BAD GUYS TO FIND!” Rainbow Dash bellowed, flaring her wings, flesh and metal, in a display of aggression. The crowd parted before them, allowing a clear path to the door.
“Thanks, kid,” Daring nodded as they proceeded through the revolving doors.
Captain Hewn Oak was standing at the door, clearly preparing to address the frightened civilians. He gave each of them a grave look as they passed. "Smoke the heretics out of their hiding places and let them burn," he growled to them.
"Will do," Phillip said, feeling like a rock had settled into his gut.
MacWillard and the other two nonplussed officers watched as they approached. “You got a plan, detectives?” the griffon asked.
“We do,” Daring nodded, trying to sound more confident than she felt.
MacWillard nodded and waved the wand again, allowing a hole to open in the barrier. “Good luck!” he called as Daring scooped Phillip up and flew out, Rainbow Dash right at her tail.
Daring wasn’t a firm believer in luck. But as they flew southwest, and the sharp snapping and crackling sound of the barrier closing resounded in her hollow gut like the great iron doors of Tartarus slamming shut behind them, she thought that now might be a good time to start having faith.
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"Darkness falls across the land
The midnight hour is close at hand
Creatures crawl in search of blood
To terrorize y'all's neighborhood
And whosoever shall be found
Without the soul for getting down
Must stand and face the hounds of hell
And rot inside a corpse's shell
The foulest stench is in the air
The funk of 40 thousand years
And grisly ghouls from every tomb
Are closing in to seal your doom
And though you fight to stay alive
Your body starts to shiver
For no mere mortal can resist
The evil of the thriller!"
...sorry, I couldn't resist. Thought it fitting.
Three Bits that Phillip's family somehow becomes hostages in this entire fiasco
10098300
5 bits
6 bits that Phillip's family gets taken hostage.
Might be a mistake I think Finders Mom is a (Not sure what Aborigine magicians are called).
This Under thing sounds like Rogueport from Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door.