Violet Edge: Ace Prosecutor: Turnabout Buttons

by Magic Step

United by the Truth

“...and he has a cutie mark of a simplified family tree.” Lyra swished her tail hopefully.

The pony behind the general store counter shrugged lazily, going back to filling out his accounting book. “Never out of my store. No teasipper’s stopped here in years.”

At least he didn’t seem hostile to even being talked to like the others they’d asked so far. “Thanks anyway…” Lyra gave Gumshoe a mournful look over her shoulder.

Gumshoe pushed forward. “You haven’t heard anything at all?”

The brown stallion looked up in tired annoyance. “I haven’t got a baldy.”

Lyra turned to study the shelves to try and stop the tears from showing. There was more empty space than product, and nothing seemed very well sorted. Dusty apples were tucked in random corners; a few sacks of feed slumped on the floor. A couple rusty farm tools were scattered along one back wall. Nothing had a price tag and the pony behind the desk didn’t have a cash register.

Then Lyra spotted something familiar.

“Is… is that St. Megan’s knot?” Lyra pointed at a ribbon tied around a nail in a window frame; from it dangled a length of yellow braided flax.

The brown stallion looked up in surprise. “You’re familiar with the legends?”

“Oh, my, yes.” Lyra felt almost giddy. “All of us attended church every Sunday. St. Megan is my hero!”

“Never thought I’d meet a teasipper of the faith.” The stallion whistled. “Your brother was one also?”

Lyra nodded.

“Ah… then maybe you’d best try the chapel up the street; turn left at the Ponder Pine and past the blacksmith’s. Perhaps he met with Pastor Quiet.”

“Thank you!” Lyra beamed.

***

“Bright Innovation! He was here just the other day. You didn’t hear anything about an outsider visiting?”

The two teenage mares shook their head and went back to scrubbing clothes. But something about they way they tittered made it obvious to Violet Edge they were snubbing him.

Violet Edge stomped his hoof in frustration. “Why is no one taking this seriously!? I don’t care if you hate Canterlot; a pony nearly died! Why do none of you care?”

One of the mares just rolled her eyes. “Sounds like your problem. Bite the backs of our haunches, you old teasipper.”

“I’m in my twenties! My mane’s just grey naturally!”

That set the two into hysterics.

“Forget it…” Adorabelle muttered to him. “Like, surely somepony will, like, I dunno… hey, a gesturing pony!” The periwinkle unicorn gave a whiny of excitement as she galloped across the street to a small shack.

“What- where?” Violet Edge cantered after her.

The shack looked like someone had borrowed pieces of wall from other houses and leaned them against each other. If not for the very elaborate, but rather wild, patches of flowers around the shack but nowhere else, Violet Edge might think it was a shed for farm tools. But something about the violets and morning glories spoke of a certain kind of overzealous, untidy care.

“Don’t just be gawking; you wanted information right?”

Violet Edge tore his attention away from the flowers to see a middle-aged mare in the doorway. Her coat and mane were pale grey and her cutie mark was an outline of some daisies-

No. This wasn’t natural color. This pony was desaturated.

Violet Edge swallowed. “Are… are you…?”

“You’ll pardon my appearance.” The mare waved vaguely at the flowers in the yard. “So many little things to take care of…”

Violet Edge now regarded the abundance of blooms with some dismay. He’d never seen an earth pony overextend their magic in pony before.

“Canterlot finally sent someone after the Dorsets?” the mare snapped.

Violet Edge’s eyebrow cocked. “Why would you assume that?”

“You’ve met the new boss? Same as the old boss. ‘Cept she lives next to us and can see us suffer and still a heart of iron.” The mare seized Violet Edge’s cravat in her teeth and dragged him inside.

Violet Edge stifled a complaint about the expensive silk his cravat was made from. This was the first pony who’d really talked to him so far and it wouldn’t pay to interrupt her.

The shack was one room with a fireplace in one corner and a nearly empty barrel of oats in another. The mare’s earthly possessions seemed to consist of a kettle, two bowls, two bedrolls, and a small locked chest. Herbs were drying on the ceiling.

“Eyes and ears all over,” the mare whispered. “That gang of thugs Madame sends around act rowdy in the open but they know how to be sneaky, oh yes.”

Violet Edge wondered at the mare’s sanity. “Is your husband coming home soon?”

The mare shook her head. “Gone to a better home long ago. His pine has many rings.”

Violet Edge folded back his ears. He was familiar with earth pony burial rites, and how they would choose a tree or bush to be planted on top of their grave.

His own father had chosen dogwood.

“I’m… sorry for your loss.”

“No one has anything to be sorry for there. Not like with my son.” The mare’s tone turned bitter.

Violet Edge pricked his ears forward. “Your son?”

“Oh, like, that’s why everything comes in twos but half of everything is dusty?” Adorabelle waved her hoof around the cabin.

“...Congrats, Sure Lock,” Violet Edge said.

“Aw, thank you!” Adorabelle beamed, either not noticing the sarcasm or choosing to ignore it.

“Hyote was all I had left in this world,” the Lucktown mare continued. “And those conniving Dorsets want me to believe he went off and joined a gang of blackguards? Oh, no! My son loved his trick-acting, but he wasn’t a bad egg by no means; he always took care of his ma and saw we were well fed.”

“Maybe slow down and tell us what happened?” Violet Edge asked.

“We never even asked your name…” Adorabelle muttered.

The mare closed her eyes. “Ah… beg your pardon. It’s just been a long time since… anypony listened…”

A shiver went through her body and she sat down.

“It’s okay; I can tell this is very hard for you.” Violet Edge sat down across from her. “Take as long as you need.”

“Thank you.” The mare heaved a long sigh. “I’m called Flower Seed. My son Hyote is just about her age.” She gestured to Adorabelle, who sat next to Violet Edge.

Adorabelle and Violet Edge were the same age but at least she hadn’t missguessed Violet Edge’s age out loud.

“The Dorsets’ youngest member is one of Lucktown’s corner boys, Russel Dorset.”

“What’s a corner boy?” Adorabelle swished her tail.

“Young dossers.” Flower Seed cocked her head; when Adorabelle continued to wear a blank expression, she tried again. “Useless layabouts?”

“Oh, those words I know!” Adorabelle nodded.

Violet Edge was glad one of them was willing to look stupid.

“Russel and Hyote both had eyes for the same bird, Rain Dance.”

“They were fighting over a… pet?” Violet Edge asked.

“Is that what you call them in Canterlot?” Flower Seed shrugged.

Violet Edge ground his teeth in frustration. “Call what?”

“Pretty young lass.”

“LOL! No!” Adorabelle giggled. “Oh wow, you didn’t mean an actual bird? That’s so funny!”

Flower Seed gave Adorabelle a polite smile.

“Knock it off!” Violet Edge shouted at her. He turned back to Flower Seed. “Please keep going, and… to try and prevent interruptions, try your hardest to use plain language, please?”

Flower Seed huffed a little at the request. “Rain Dance wouldn’t make up her mind and kept going back and forth between Russel and Hyote until… one day Hyote was there. The next he wasn’t. Every other Lucktowner shrugged it off; said he’d probably wandered off and he’d be back later. Said I was uselessly hysterical. Well now it’s been weeks and still no one does a thing, because they’d have to admit the pony who’s responsible is that young member of the family whose hooves everyone kisses!” Flower Seed stomped her hoof at the end.

“That’s horrible!” Adorabelle flung her hooves around Flower Seed’s neck.

Violet Edge tried to keep his expression neutral because it wouldn’t be polite to critique this mare’s story if it was true. But he had to stay impartial, and right now he had no evidence that any foul play had happened but a grieving mother’s assurances.

Also, while a story of a young stallion disappearing matched with Lyra’s suspicions, it had nothing to do with the crime Violet Edge was investigating. As satisfying as it would be to stop any crime he happened across, Bright Innovation and his partners deserved answers.

“Aside from motive, do you have a reason to suspect the Dorsets?” Violet Edge asked.

“What are you on about?” Flower Seed snarled.

Maybe he should switch to a more neutral tack. “I mean… can you describe how your son’s disappearance came about?”

“There’s nothing. To. Say.” Flower Seed’s face contorted in pain. “One day he was out and about town like normal. Then he didn’t come home for supper. Didn’t sleep in his bed. Didn’t greet me in the morning.”

“So… no one saw or heard anything of him at all after that?” Violet Edge cocked his head.

“You don’t believe me either.”

“I didn’t-”

Flower Seed rammed into Violet Edge’s shoulder. “Get out, you useless gemhead!”

“No!” Adorabelle wailed. “Please don’t be mad at him because he’s clueless!”

“What?” Violet Edge shouted.

But Flower Seed backed off, still glaring at Violet Edge. “What’s a sweet girl like you see in him?” she asked Adorabelle.

“Eheheh.” Adorabelle shrugged. “I couldn’t leave him by himself, could I?”

“Hey!” Violet Edge said.

“Ha, no lass, guess not.” Flower Seed smirked wryly.

Adorabelle giggled nervously. “But like… I think what Edgy meant to say is, have the Dorsets done any other bad stuff?”

“Oh, my son isn’t the first disappearance they’ve had a hoof in,” Flower Seed scoffed. “Sure as nopony’s sad that gang of brigands aren’t around anymore, and pleased enough the Dorsets were to take credit for that. But if you’d been to the chapel and asked pointedly enough, Pastor Quiet would have a story for you…”

***

Like the Dorset’s manor, Lucktown’s chapel showed signs of being cared for despite the villagers’ meager resources. The brass cross on the roof was polished until it gleamed, and the windows were real stained glass pictures. Half were of St. Megan’s adventures, but a few dared to depict the god St. Megan had taught her little ponies to follow, the half-human half-god Jesus. They were much more generic than St. Megan’s windows and mostly just showed a human with brown hair with a halo around his head, or praying, or on a cross.

“Jesus is the god they worshipped in the kingdom of Texas, where St. Megan came from,” Lyra explained as she and Gumshoe approached the building. “I don’t know if you had followers of St. Megan in Manehattan…”

“Adorabelle explained it to me after we met,” Gumshoe said.

“Right… it’s weird to think of you and my classmate working together, since this is the first time I met you.” Lyra paused to study a picture of St. Megan holding up the rainbow of light. “Looks like they haven’t gotten a new picture of her most recent visit…”

“Apparently Violet Edge’s father was a follower of St. Megan too,” Gumshoe said.

“Really? I’ve never seen Violet Edge in church though…” Lyra glanced over her shoulder. “Do you… know why?”

Gumshoe shrugged. “His guardian is a very devout Karmite, but I don’t think Violet Edge is one of those, either…”

Lyra looked thoughtful. “Maybe… I’ll ask Adorabelle later…” The mint mare shook her head and pushed open the chapel door.

The chapel’s wooden floor was well worn by many hooves; the pews were simple wooden, but solid construction. In fact a lot of them didn’t exactly match in style or apparent age; perhaps the parishioners constantly replaced them in lieu of money to give. The scent of incense was so heavy in the air that it made Lyra cough.

Gumshoe sneezed. “Smells like Perfect Karma’s clothes.”

Lyra grinned sheepishly. “Yeah… early Christian ponies integrated elements of their native Karmite religion. Incense is one of those traditions. Not that my church uses it but I don’t think it’s a salvation-threatening manner.”

A thump came from the front of the church. “I’ll be right out!” somepony called.

The front had a simple wooden pulpit with a giant bark-bound Bible on top, its cover embossed with gemstones.

“Those gems are probably enchanted with preservation spells,” Lyra said, nodding at the gems. “Before the printing press Bibles were reproduced very ceremonially; a pegasus had to provide the quills, an earth pony the bark, and a unicorn the enchanted gems, because no one race was better than the others in the eyes of God or St. Megan. This was revolutionary at the time since early G1 religions…” she noticed Gumshoe’s eyes glazing over. “Err… am I going too fast?”

“N-no, I’m just…. That’s all way over my head, pal.” Gumshoe gave Lyra a puppy dog look. “I’m sorry…”

“You… aren’t from Lucktown.”

Lyra and Gumshoe turned to see a stallion in black and white robes had joined them. He was slate blue and a small pair of glasses perched on his nose. All his accoutrements made him look old, but judging from his face he couldn’t have been over thirty.

“N-no; my name is Lyra Heartstrings.” Lyra held out her hoof. “I’m looking for my brother… Tree Trace.”

Pastor Quiet squeaked in surprise. “Oh. F-fancy that. Why are you… why are you looking for a unicorn in an earth pony town?”

Lyra narrowed her eyes. “Why did you assume he was a unicorn?”

“I mean you’re one!” Pastor Quiet slid back. “Look, I wish you good luck, but I have studies to get back to…”

“You get back here pal!” Gumshoe barked.

Pastor Quiet turned tail to run, but Gumshoe bounded over the pony’s head in a feat of athletics that left Lyra stunned. Gumshoe growled at the pastor, who jumped back.

“Please don’t hurt me!” Pastor Quiet dropped to the floor and put his hooves over his head and lay there, shaking. “Make the monster go away!”

Gumshoe stopped growling and looked hurt.

Lyra ignored this and pressed on. “You’re hiding something! Spit it out!”

“I can’t tell you anything!” the pastor protested.

“Well then, maybe I can.”

Gumshoe and Lyra looked to the front of the church and saw Violet Edge and Adorabelle walking up the aisle.

***

“Oooh, that entrance was so dramatic!” Adorabelle squealed in Violet Edge’s ear.

“Shush.” Violet Edge made it to the front of the church. Addressing the cowering pastor, he said, “We’ve just come from visiting Flower Seed. She told us that there used to be a mortician that worked here, in the cemetery attached to your church.”

Pastor Quiet stopped shaking, but didn’t stand up. He looked miserable.

“But one day, the mortician admitted to… disrespecting the dead.” Violet Edge actually hadn’t been able to get Flower Seed to spit out what exactly had been happening except in manners laden with local euphemisms. All he’d been able to determine was that it wasn’t necrophilia. “The next day, he was nowhere to be found. Some think he just snuck away in shame, but Flower Seed thinks you know more than you’ve let the public know…”

“That’s not true!” Pastor Quiet whimpered. “Switchblade didn’t work for me anyway-”

“Your mortician was named Switchblade?” Lyra looked alarmed. "What was wrong with his parents!?"

Pastor Quiet winced. “S-sorry, it’s a nickname that just… slipped out.”

That didn't seem to reassure Lyra at all.

Violet Edge glared down at the cowering stallion, not bothering to hide his disdain.

“Is my brother… did the same thing happen to him as your mortician?” Lyra leaned closer. “Please… my brother didn’t do anything wrong! He… he just wanted to surprise me and he…” Tears welled up in her eyes. “I don’t even know if he’s alive or…. Or…”

Pain flashed across Pastor Quiet’s face as he watched Lyra cry. Slowly he stood up.

“I… I’ve been a weak stallion…” he muttered.

Violet Edge bit back a comment.

Pastor Quiet’s breathing was quicker. “I’m an outsider in this town myself, you have to understand- the elderly pastor everyone in town respected sent to a mission school asking for a replacement and I was looking for a flock to lead, and I thought everything was fine, but before long…” He shook his head. “I have sinned… and feared the opinion of ponies rather than God…”

“Can’t you help us?” Lyra put a hoof on his shoulder.

Pastor Quiet shook his head. “I really have nothing. Only suspicions. The Dorsets always told me I shouldn’t search too hard for Sw- for Earth Turner. Said I might only find trouble. And when… when that nice Canterlot unicorn never attended service like he told me he planned to..”

“You saw my brother?” Lyra leaned closer, her eyes wide. “He was here?”

Pastor Quiet hesitated, then nodded. “He s-said he was here because of suspicions that his family might date back to this village, in a way… that he was going to ask questions around town. But I never saw him after we first met, and when I asked… nopony cared. Said he probably brought trouble on himself by being nosy…” He shuddered.

“No!” Lyra shook her head. “Oh no, please no, please…!”

Adorabelle pulled Lyra into a hug. Violet Edge took a step closer to the pastor.

“And that’s honestly, truly all you know?” Violet Edge pressed.

Pastor Quiet bit his lip. “There’s one thing… I don’t know if it’s related…”

“Any bit helps,” Violet Edge reassured him. Anything about this town at all, really.

“The Dorsets are well-respected for using their manor to house the various orphans and abandoned children of Lucktown, but it’s… common knowledge that no one talks about that, ah… it’s not exactly pure altruism.” Pastor Quiet coughed. “That is, the Dorsets are, of course, respected button makers, but there’s only four adults in that house, and one is always in bed… they’re far more productive than you’d normally expect, so, um…”

“Child labor.” Violet Edge seethed internally. “Everypony knows and nopony has done a thing to stop it?”

“Well no one knows how much!” Pastor Quiet protested, waving a hoof. “After all, all children used to work on their parents’ farms- nothing wrong about that!”

Violet Edge felt his face harden and turned away to show he wasn’t mad at Pastor Quiet. This town was backwards culturally from the rest of Equestria; it wouldn’t be fair to be mad at any one pony. But this appalled him.

“Oh, yeah, I almost forgot,” Gumshoe said. “Do you make voodoo dolls here?”

“No!” shouted everypony in the room.

“That’s a zebra practice!” Violet Edge snapped. “Why can’t you go five minutes without embarrassing yourself, detective?”

Gumshoe looked hurt.

“You’re looking for zebra heathens?” Pastor Quiet’s ears pricked up.

Violet Edge frowned. “That’s a very strong phrase.”

“But we have a colony living on the outskirts of town!” Pastor Quiet looked excited. “If you think they’re the troublemakers after all…!”

Violet Edge didn’t appreciate the pastor’s excited expression, partly because he wasn’t sure if it was born of pure racism, or if the pastor was just relieved the Dorsets might not be involved and he might not have done anything wrong by ignoring the obviously evil ponies running Lucktown. But he was desperate for leads. “What is a zebra herd doing in the middle of Equestria?”

“The gypsies were a wandering tribe; they landed here after everypony kicked them out.” Pastor Quiet shuffled his hooves awkwardly. “They brought demonic healing magic with them, and I did my best to admonish them to stay on the path St. Megan laid out for us and trust in God… but… well, Canterlot did stop providing healthcare for them…”

“Understood.” Violet Edge could care less about ponies failing to uphold someone else’s scruples, and he could barely keep the disdain out of his voice. “Where is this colony then?”

Pastor Quiet grabbed a piece of paper from the lectern and started making a crude map on the back of it.

Violet Edge glanced at Lyra. “You ready to keep investigating?”

Lyra shook her head. “I can’t… I… I’m scared…”

Violet Edge placed a hoof on Lyra’s shoulder. “I think you’ll find… the best thing will be to know the truth. Wherever it takes us.”