Deadwood's Detective Agency

by TheFullCrumb

Case File 1 - Anon-a-Missed the Mark

Winter was always a bad time of year. People were always looking for information, looking around for the next big piece of gossip, and paranoid of their neighbours, in case any of them knew something that they did not.

A shaggy head stared at the young woman in front of his desk, his grizzled face twisted in a grimace as he regarded her appearance. Disheveled hair, bruises up and down her nose, she was the picture of a typical scenario where someone had decided they had been through enough, and decided that attempt manslaughter was the best way to solve things.

“So, let me get this straight. Starting with everything… Your name is Sunset Shimmer, you’re involved in a bit of a mess regarding social media, and someone is assuming your previous modum operandi in order to… destroy any possible cohesion that your high school previously had. You will have to give me a minute, because this sounds more like the fairy tale of an overactive imagination.”

“But-” The man held up a hand, sighing. Standing up, he looked out the front window of his establishment, his detective agency. People were always willing to pay a lot of money on what usually amounted to trust issues and paranoia, but it put bread on his table and food in his cat’s belly. Lifting a tan long-coat off of a nearby coat rack, sliding it on effortlessly. Taking a scarf, he motioned towards the doorway, sighing again.

“Let’s go for a walk. You like hot chocolate?” Sunset silently nodded, her blackened eye barely open as she followed the man out of his agency. The night was certainly darker than normal, and most people would have abandoned the streets for their warm homes, but not the man. Turning his key in the lock, he walked closely beside Sunset Shimmer, keeping his hands in his pockets as he stared at the ground.

“Mr. Deadwood, I-”

“Hot chocolate first. You look like you’re freezing, and chocolate seems to help calm the nerves.”

The walk down the street was quiet, almost peaceful, as Deadwood and Sunset Shimmer kept pace beside each other, walking silently. Neither was willing to speak as the snow buffeted against them, the wind starting to pick up as his expression perked up. Ahead of him stood a coffee shop, a tiny establishment that was often open late into the night, if only because the owner was an old friend of Deadwood’s, and the detective had assisted him in discovering who was attempting to shut him down using fraudulent land claims. Big Joe’s Snack Shack was a personal favourite, as the big guy himself was one of the better doughnut artisans in the city.

Crossing the empty street between his block and Joe’s, Deadwood waited for Sunset to catch up, holding the door open for her before following in behind her. Joe looked up from his newspaper, his eyes beaming for a second before he saw the state Sunset Shimmer was currently in.

“Don’t know how you find ‘em, Deadwood, but that one’s got a lot riding on her.”

“I know, Joe. Two double-chocolate stacks, with hot mochas on the side, please.” Joe smiled at Deadwood’s request, nodding and moving behind the long counter as Deadwood and Sunset Shimmer sat opposite each other at one of the few tables inside the small establishment. Watching Sunset shiver as she did reminded him of a lot of the people he had helped or helped get the help they needed over the years, each one a near mess that needed someone to pick them up and put them back together. Sometimes it was him, sometimes it was the police. Sometimes, in the rarest of cases, it was Big Joe keeping them up in his loft as Deadwood tried to find a good, safe place for them to stay while he worked.

“Mr. Deadwood… why are you doing this?” Deadwood stared her dead in the eye, raising an eyebrow before Joe wordlessly walked up, placing two mugs between the two of them. Two double-chocolate donuts sat steaming on plates beside the warm beverages, freshly baked and ready to eat. Without a word, Deadwood lifted his mug, and took a large sip, smiling as the delicious liquid rushed down his throat and warmed his core.

“Ms. Shimmer, your own investigation has thus far been fruitless, and you could not find any evidence to point to who this ‘Anon-a-miss’ was, although you know for a fact it was not you. I will admit, this is like a lot of cases I take on. Cases where the evidence is circumspect unless someone with a trained eye looks at it. I want you to start from the beginning, and don’t leave any details out, please.” Deadwood took out a recorder, placing it between them. “I am going to sit here and listen, because I need to hear your words over something someone else made an assumption for.”

Over the next hour and a half, Deadwood sat still, sipping his hot mocha as Sunset Shimmer cried, sobbed and sputtered each part of her situation to him. From the assumption of her ‘friends’ that she was the guilty party, to the after-school beatdown, the meeting with the ‘Sirens’ - he would have to talk to those three later as a corroboration of Sunset’s story – and even to the fateful meeting in Sugarcube Corner, a sweet shop not ten blocks down from where he sat. Each gruesome detail made his eyes go wider, even if his mouth did not move once during the entire event. His focus was on her eyes, on her body language, the tells if someone is hiding the truth, or falsifying information. Each time she spoke of her ‘friends,’ he watched her get angry. Whenever she spoke of two young men, Snips and Snails – he was going to need to talk to them later; they seemed like the real friends of the young woman in front of him – she would visibly relax, right before tightening up and explaining each bruise, each scar. An entire routine played itself out across her face, an entire song-and-dance that he had not seen in a while. Her words told him that she was convinced she was innocent and being set up, but her body language confirmed it.

Holding up a hand, he tapped a button on the recording device, stopping its intake of information. He pushed his doughnut towards her, as she had devoured hers within the first ten minutes of their talk. Watching her tear into the second doughnut with ravenous hunger convinced him of her fears – she was right to be scared. He had been around the block enough to know how and when to fight, but she was never given that option, and given the circumstances, she was lucky.

“I’m doing this pro-bono, Ms. Shimmer. That means ‘for free.’ I’ve watched a lot of good kids get seriously injured or killed because of incidents like this, and people seem to think that if someone does not show it, they’re not really hurting inside.” He stood up, putting his large hands on both of her shoulders. With a quick motion, he pulled her in close, embracing her in a tight hug. “I know that pain far too well.”

Letting go of her, he stood up, walking over to Joe who shook his head as Deadwood pulled out his wallet.

“This one’s on the house, Detective. Make sure you help her good, right? She seems like a good kid.” Deadwood turned back to the girl who still shivered and shook, but her face was no longer a mask of terror and fear.

“Yeah, Joe. I’m getting that feeling too.”

“Canterlot High School. I always hated this place.” Deadwood walked into the school, being let in by the security guards after he had flashed his Private Investigator identification. Reaching into his pocket, he removed a small Bluetooth earpiece, hooking it over his ear as he pulled a flashlight from his other coat pocket.

High schools were always unnerving at night, the lights out and no one around. It was as if the ghosts of the past really did want to jump out and drag you to hell, sometimes. Shaking his head, he pushed away those thoughts, he walked over to the door marked ‘Library,’ and pushed it open. Another security guard stood at the ready beside a bank of computers, waving them over. Deadwood watched as the guard tapped several keys, logging in the computer to a student account, and one that had been left logged in to a site he never frequented called ‘MyStable.’ Social media was a detective’s best friend in some cases, and in his case, it was a God-send. Often those social media accounts would have an email address associated with them, and if it was being used on a school computer, it would have to be a student email address. Pulling out his phone, he dialed a number, letting it ring for a few seconds before a voice clicked on and answered.

“Detective? Are you at the school already?”

“Yes, Ms. Shimmer, I am. I trust Joe is treating you all right?” A giggle from the other end made Deadwood smile. Apparently, Joe had introduced Sunset Shimmer to his adorable niece, Minty. The bouncing in the background meant that they were in the spare bedroom in the area above Joe’s Snack Shack, the area Deadwood had dubbed the ‘loft.’ In essence, it was a small, three-bedroom apartment that had been paid for due to the money awarded Joe in his last legal battle against the corrupt businessman who had attempted to pilfer Joe’s livelihood in a fraudulent case. Deadwood loved putting Filthy Rich in his place at that time – the rich landowner had been beside himself in anger when he had found out.

“Y-Yeah. His niece is really nice. She wanted to show me her doll collection-”

“Auntie Shimmer, Auntie Shimmer! Look at Mr. Fluffybunny!” She was definitely getting on well with the four-year-old.

Returning his attention to the computer, he looked down, scrolling several times as he read each entry, frowning until he found the ‘About’ button. As he read the description, his expression grew ever more sour as he read the address. He was unfortunately familiar with the family in question, and while he had helped them in the past, this particular girl had caused enough damage to seriously impact both her and Sunset Shimmer’s future school lives.

“I’ve got an email address. Seriously, if you’re going to attempt to hide your identity behind something as stupid as ‘Anon-a-miss’ as a pseudonym, might as well state your name out loud for the world to hear.” Tapping a few things into his phone, he sent a single text to Sunset, the email address eliciting a gasp out of her as she looked at her phone.

“No… no it couldn’t be… why would they do this?”

“I honestly would really like to know. I know the family too, and I know this one in particular. Always seemed like a good kid. This, though? This crosses a line.”

The following morning, several students were gathered in the main office of Canterlot High School, three looking very guilty at five very stern-faced older girls. Deadwood stood off to the side, his grizzled face a mask of calm, though inside he was raging. The three younger girls he had gotten the staff at the school to confront had confessed to the entirety of the creation of the social media account, without much prodding on his part.

Of course, the main problem was that the damage had already been done. Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy had cut off their friendship with Sunset Shimmer, who was more than happy to leave them behind. After all, she had angrily stated at them, you know who your friends are when the going gets tough, and none of you were willing to listen.

Deadwood stepped into the rant that Rainbow Dash had decided to give the one named Scootaloo, pulling her back.

“That’s enough. You’re as much to blame as they are.” Before she could open her mouth, Deadwood tossed several pictures out onto Principal Celestia’s desk, the half-dead Sunset roped to a pole like some kind of wild animal. “Guess who took these pictures. Go on, guess.”

Rainbow Dash stared, wide-eyed, as the colour drained from her face. Her expression told him all he needed to know as he gently pushed her back in her chair. Dragging another chair towards the group, he faced them all, sitting backwards on the chair as he ruffled his hair in thought.

“It’s not just Applebloom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle that are at fault here, ladies. You instantly jumped to the conclusion it was Sunset Shimmer without evidence, only with the experience of her problems over three years. Someone who has actively attempted to cultivate a positive relationship and help people… you immediately cast her aside like flotsam off a sinking ship. The Police Commissioner is coming in soon. He’s currently talking with Gilda and the others that participated in the attempted murder. You’ll find he’s not a patient, nor friendly man when it comes to these things.” The tears began to flow from the eyes of all eight girls present as he turned and walked away without a word. Opening the door, he looked down the hallway, seeing Sunset Shimmer covered in soaked paper towel as she sat crying in a chair further down the hallway. Silently cursing himself, he made his way over to her, sitting down next to her and sighing.

“They’re not my friends. Not after what they did, what she did.”

Deadwood said nothing, only pulling a pack of gum from his pocket and silently handing her a piece. As they silently chewed in peace and quiet, two young men, one short and stout, and one rather tall and skinny, stopped in front of him and Sunset, silently looking at them.

“Sunset, you can always count on us. If you need anything...” Sunset looked up, her eyes red from crying as she stared at them both. The relief in her eyes was almost tangible as the two young men - Snips and Snails, if Deadwood remembered correctly – returned to their current class.

“You’re a good kid, Sunset. It’s the shit like this that ruins the good parts, but it’s like that for a lot of us.” He looked back down at her, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve got a proposition for you, and you’re free to say no. It’ll keep you out of a lot of danger, and might actually help you… well, if you could heal from something like this, I wouldn’t be here, now would I?”

“W-What are you suggesting?”

“I’ve got a spot open for an assistant. Pays good, decent benefits. My friends are your friends, that sort of thing. Joe’s always got his spare room at the Snack Shack, and his niece has really taken a shine to you.” Standing up, he started walking towards the door. Feeling a sudden tug on his coat, he turned around, raising an eyebrow at the fiery-haired girl.

“W-Will I have to stay at CHS? I-I don’t think I can be here anymore.” Deadwood shook his head, kneeling down and putting his hand on her shoulder. Kneeling in front of her, he was reminded of how tall he was.

“I’ve got a few favours with a certain Crystal Prep Principal. I’m certain if I can call them in, she’ll be more than willing to help with a transfer.” He stood up, holding out his hand in a gesture of agreement. “What do you say?”

Sunset stared at his hand, and then at his face, looking that grizzled man directly in his eyes. A day before, she had stumbled upon his agency almost by chance, as if Fate itself had guided her to it, and he had taken her case quickly enough that it got dealt with faster than she had anticipated.

Taking his hand, she smiled widely and warmly, the first in a while since the whole ‘Anon-a-Miss’ problem had started.

“Y-You’ve got a deal, Mr. Deadwood.”

Comments

[Mystic Sunrise]

There's a reason this keeps popping up. People keep trying to fix the steaming pile of horse shit that was the comic. And failing miserably in the process.

[FoundFamily]

9699884
...well most of the time...
Some of them are good reads.

[TheFullCrumb]

9699884
Yeah. This was more based around Diann's fic on the matter, at least, the one chapter of this was. I'm honestly gonna say I'm not that great at Detective stories... and I also wrote this at 2 in the morning.

Of course, this was an experiment in a different writing style. It's more that I did... okay at writing this than fully succeeded.

[Shooter5000]

I like it so far, keep it up. :)

[Dr Mysterious Shade]

Honestly it wasn't bad. Not great but enjoyable.

[diablo4000]

Will we see what goes on with the Rainbooms and CMC and such at times?

[CSC]

9699884
Absolutely true.

[TheFullCrumb]

9700345
Maybe. This isn't a story with an ending yet, so I may bring up interactions between the Rainbooms, the CMC, and Deadwood. I don't write detective stories often, so there is that.

[TheFullCrumb]

9700389
True enough. A large majority of the stories seem to focus on creating a 'spectacle' rather than trying to present a story that would logically fix the comic.

I HAVE read a few of them. Some are... painful to sit through, but others are decently written.

You can always tell what an author has the most passion for if you pay attention to their writing. I find it difficult to write genres like detective, or really dramatic pieces, since I myself am not actually a dramatic person.

I do like honest criticism, and I appreciate all the comments so far.

[Skeletron6969]

Hey I think this was really done well!! Please keep it up when you get a chance cause this is awesome!

[TheFullCrumb]

9706757
Thanks. I'm not normally a detective-story writer, which I did believe came across in how I wrote. I do recommend taking a read of my other stories, as most of my work is a labour of love, especially my sci-fi stuff.

[Edguy0009]

This shows promise.

[Edguy0009]

9707429
This is actually pretty good.

[TheFullCrumb]

9723108
Thanks, mate.

[Edguy0009]

9724811
Your welcome it's probably better than I can write as I'm not a writer the best I can do is give ideas for stories.

[Leo Luce]

Are you by chance, a sherlock holmes fan?

[TheFullCrumb]

11171357
A little bit, why do you ask?