The Shroud of Manehattan

by Violet Mist

Chapter 1 - The Case

It all started with a novice rushing into my office.

“Detective!...” the young stallion panted as the door swung open, prompting me to drop some papers I was sorting. The papers fell onto the carpeted floor below, and I flashed an angry glance at the new pony as all my work became undone. However, unlike most newbies of the office that shrink in my gaze of wraith, this stallion didn’t flinch.

“You’ve been assigned a new case! Chief Kingsbury wants you at this address as soon as possible!” The newbie quickly floated a small note with writing on it with his magic, and I quickly snatched it up in my hooves. The paper was a bit crumbled, but I was still able to understand it without question.

1833 S Hayford Street. Be there and be prepared.

-Bill

I sighed and leaned back in my chair, gazing up at the pale ceiling. I had just finished a grueling case about a distressed mare who thought his husband was cheating on her, only to find out that it was actually the mare who cheated on HIM. It was incredibly dumb and incredibly long. As in, as a result of that, I lost a few brain cells. If anything was true, however, it was that I was in no ideal mood to be taking up a case. The fact that Kingsbury assigned it to me meant it was serious.

As I put on my brown jacket and shoo away the newbie that delivered the message, I suppose now would be a great time to introduce myself.

My name is Dennis Parker, but most in the business call me Detective Parker or Mr. Parker. Everyone else calls my Dennis. I was born on November 23, 1923. I have an interesting job solving cases in Manehattan through the Island Investigation Agency (IIA), which is a branch of the MPD (Manehattan Police Department). Actually, ‘interesting’ isn’t quite the right word to describe it; more like DOWNRIGHT BIZARRE. But it’s not like I’m not used to crazy Manehattan ponies.

I leave the three-story building in which we work and head down the block in the direction of 1833 S Hayford Street.

You see, my “ancestors” first arrived at the island many, many years before I was born; in fact, they were among the first actual citizens of Equestria’s largest city. On December 2, 1845, the original settlement that stood on this island was established as Equestria experienced a massive boom in urban development. Several generations have come and gone before we got to my generation of Manehattaners. And by Celestia, this has been one hell of a generation. That’s not particularly a good thing, either.

Finally, I arrived at the destination. In the lobby of the residential building, ponies gathered in confusion. It was definitely looking like a crime scene now. I took the stairs up, as I had an unspeakable fear of entering an elevator… especially after my uncle died from an incident involving the machine. I haven’t been in one since.

I soon realized that walking 18 stories up was not a great idea. I panted heavily as I climbed up the last step, sweat drops abundant on my forehead. The bland walls and dim lighting of the stairway didn’t aid my thoughts any more; I needed to get out of that condensed area, so I quickly navigated to the door to the floor and swung it open.

The floor was swarming with curious citizens, photographers, reporters, and officials alike, but it wasn’t crowded to a point where it was impossible to get through. I put my head down and turned on my Manehattan instincts—I managed to weave through the corridor of ponies with relative ease, occasionally slightly bumping into a pony or two but not paying them any mind. In Manehattan I had plenty of experience with this, especially on weekends, where younger foals would take to the streets of the city with their families and wind down the day.

Soon, the numbers on the surrounding apartments counting down to 1833 grew smaller and smaller. I was only a few apartments away when I was able to hear music among the voices. Then, a strong stench of some illegal drug and alcohol filled my nostrils, forcing me to gag a little. I rolled my eyes.

What was so important about an underage drinking case?

I assumed it would be nothing new and something I dealt with almost daily, but as the faces I passed to reach the door of the apartment were mostly those of sadness and a disturbed nature, I started to wonder. I finally got to the doorway, and I gasped.

First, I saw the blood. There was a pool of it sitting right next to the door, and many police photographer ponies were taking photos of it. Next, I saw the body. It was a young stallion, probably early 20’s, with several gunshot wounds in his back. I slipped through the doorway, totally in shock. Never had I ever investigated nor been at the scene of a murder. Right after I recounted my thoughts, I saw two more bodies, each of them stallions with similar gunshot wounds.

Scratch that; MULTIPLE homicides.

The rest of the time was a blur, as I quickly found myself taking out my quill and notepad, ready to take notes on the scene.

---

“I’m looking for…”

I forgot the name, so I took a look at my notes again. There it was, written at the top right, with a big circle around it.

Charlene Smart.

“...a Miss Charlene Smart?”

I gazed down the hallway. There were still several ponies muttering to themselves and others, but at that second, it seemed dead silent. Finally, a pale white hoof shot up from the crowd, followed by a feminine voice.

“That’s me! Excuse me!” The mare answered. After a few seconds of moving ponies in order to make way for the mare, she was finally in front of me.

This was the first time I had ever seen the earth pony Charlene Smart, and she was a gorgeous mare. Her white fur seemed to reflect in the hallway as she was perfectly cleaned and polished, and her curly yet tidy burgundy hair shined and glistened like a well-kept diamond. Her deep purple eyes burned into mine as I stared down at her, unable to deny the fact that this was probably the cleanest mare I had ever seen up to this point.

“Is… there anything you need, Detective?” She said uncomfortably in her slight Manehattan accent, as I basically stared right into her soul. Suddenly, I snapped out of it and chuckled nervously, shoving the notepad in the pocket of my trench coat.

“I was wondering if my boss and I could use your apartment to discuss this case? It needs to be done privately and it doesn’t seem like the other neighbor of these once fine gentlecolts seems to be home,” I asked as polite as I could. Charlene blinked through her thick eyelashes, simply staring at me as if I was crazy, or unaware of something I should’ve been. Nevertheless, she shook her head and chuckled, pushing aside that strange exchange.

“Well, sir, you should know that that apartment next door to theirs has been vacant for quite some time. However, I doubt that information will benefit your case… and of course you can use my apartment,” Charlene answered, smiling. “It’s only fair of me to assist you two gentlecolts whenever needed, so just let me know.”

I nodded in return and she led me to her apartment next door, telling me that she would get my boss as I waited. Only a couple minutes passed until the door opened to the dimly lit space, revealing him.

Chief Bill Kingsbury was somepony I had known for nearly a decade, when I was studying at law school here in Manehattan. Back then, he was a less-aged normal detective but held the same sleazy, blunt, sleepy personality he had presently. As far as I was aware, he was spouse-less. If he wasn’t, I had never met his wife. However, with rumors hinting at his approaching retirement, you couldn’t help but focus on the small details. Still, I had massive respect for the stallion, even after the rare moments where we disagreed on something.

As he walked into the apartment, I couldn’t help but notice that his colors seemed even more dull on this day; his light red-orange fur was reduced to a grayish-orange, and there seemed to be more graying in his slicked back black hair than usual. His eyelids, often drooping, were left even lower over his piercing sky blue eyes. He sighed as he shut the door, taking out some files as he walked towards me.

“Y’know, you didn’t have to kick that nice mare out of her apartment just because of this talk…” Bill said, placing the files on the coffee table and taking a seat in a nice recliner. I preferred to stand, but I too sat down to look over the files. He took out a cigar and instinctively, I grabbed my lighter and lit it for him.

“Well, Miss Smart didn’t seem to have a problem with it, so I don’t see the issue either,” I answered, flipping through the files. Bill grumbled something I couldn’t hear, and we spent about a minute in complete silence. By the time I was done reading through the files, I closed them and looked at my boss. “A few Manehattan City College kids, huh?”

Bill nodded and sighed, folding his legs in the chair. I shook my head.

“Why me? You know I don’t do these.”

“Well, this is your first and I expect you to devote your time into justifying these murders.”

“Has there ever been a time where I’ve NOT put all my effort in a case?”

“That’s not what I meant, Dennis.”

“Then what did you mean?” I clapped back. He was silent, gathering his thoughts as he stared at a painting on the wall.

“Never mind. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Apparently, I don’t understand anything.”

Bill sighed again, shaking his head and taking the cigar out of his mouth. I smelled the stench of his smoking habits on a daily basis, but I was used to it because I, too, was a smoker. And even though I regretted it, it was addicting and helped ease the stress I felt daily. At least by a little bit.

“Got anything else to say?” I said after a few moments of silence, already picking myself off the chair. My boss remained silent, but just as I peeled myself off the chair, it seemed that a spark went off in his head.

“What if I told you…” he said with a smirk. “...that you could bring a partner along with you?”

“Sweet Celestia. I knew you were going to say that.” I groaned and walked over to the window of the apartment, gazing down at the gray city below. The weather remained overcast, and it was getting late. Ponies, bundled in their lavish jackets, trotted through the streets, hopeful to get home before the weather potentially turned wet. I heard Bill slowly pick himself off the chair and grab the file.

“That’s because I know it’s the only way I’m going to get you to do this case, Mr. Parker.” He replied. I turned to face him again, biting my lower lip as I thought to myself.

Up until that moment, I never had the possibility of bringing a partner along to do a case. As I’ve repeated time and time again, I only handled the small, usual cases. This was by far the biggest I had ever been tasked with completing, so it only made sense that I could bring along my best friend, Philip Schafer, who was basically in the same position I was in.

“So… are you in?”

I smiled.

“Mr. Kingsbury… let me handle this.”

Author's Note:

Apologies for any historical inaccuracies. I did the best research I could do, but I hope you enjoy!

Comments

[guradmn]

So far.I love it.

[Moon_Dew]

I'm guess this isn't a crossover with Fallout's Silver Shroud, is it?

[Violet Mist]

9674282
You are correct!