Ponyville Noire: Misty Streets of Equestria

by PonyJosiah13

Case Fifteen, Chapter Two: Dance of the Dead

Daring’s heart leaped into her throat, but she forced it back down with a swallow, taking in a slow, controlled breath. The memory retreated back into her subconscious and reality bled back in.

It was not the Ngluwi...Zugzwang...emerging through the door from the red-skied forest. It was a unicorn wearing a long dark blue trenchcoat and a ski mask that covered his entire body. His cold green eyes glared hatefully at them over the sights of the .38 Steel and Eastson revolver, his hoof inserted into the large trigger guard and lightly pressing against the hair-trigger. A bag stuffed with notes and other materials was strapped to his back.

“Where’s Gold Signature?” the intruder snarled, aiming his weapon at Autumn.

“Who?” Autumn asked, raising her hooves in surrender. “I have no idea who you’re talking about! I’ve never heard of Gold Signature!”

“Where is he?” the intruder snapped again, thrusting the weapon at the kirin, who yelped and backed up.

Now!

The kusarifundo snapped out of her pocket and came down like a hammer, the weight snapping bone with a crack. The intruder howled and dropped the gun with a clatter.

“Ha!” Daring barked with a grin, drawing back for another strike, but a brick wall composed of blue energy slammed into her. She crashed into the wall with a grunt, but landed on her hooves, growling at her attacker.

The intruder pulled the gun back into his hooves with a blue aura as he pulled a small crystal from his pocket and flung it into the air. The teleportation crystal hovered in midair over his head, glowing bright blue, flashing out cyan lightning with a great crackling that made Daring and Autumn’s hair stand on end.

“No, you don’t!” Daring snarled, diving forward, but a bolt of lightning struck her on the wing and she fell with a grunt. A moment later, there was a flash of blinding azure light. When it cleared, the intruder was gone.

“Damn!” Daring snarled, forcing herself back up. She winced and checked her wing, flexing it out slowly to test the muscles. They responded sluggishly, every nerve protesting having to move, but there was no visible damage.

“Are you okay?” Autumn asked, recovering slowly.

“I’m okay. You?”

Autumn nodded, then started sorting through her notes with gritted teeth. After a few moments, she grunted and slammed her hoof against the mattress in frustration. “He took them!” she snapped. “He took all of my research on Eagle Trust! My notes, the photographs, the interview tapes, everything!”

Daring growled, glaring at the area where the intruder had jumped through the portal. “It’s fine,” she tried to reassure Autumn, holstering her weapon. “We can start again.”

“This is how Eagle Trust works!” Autumn shouted, pacing in a small circle, her eyes starting to glow again. “They find and eliminate anything and anyone who can work against them! If we don’t stop them now, they’ll just keep going and going, taking and taking, ruining more lives--!”

Her hooves started to glow, crackling with magic fire; the acrid scent of burnt carpet wafted up into Daring’s nostrils. “Hey, Autumn?” she called. “Take a few deep breaths before you burn the place down.”

Autumn paused, then turned away, breathing deeply. The glow slowly faded from her eyes and hooves.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“It’s fine,” Daring said, patting the kirin on the shoulder. “We’re both okay, and we’ll both find the bastard.”

There was the sound of tires crunching outside. Daring tensed up, one hoof going up to her shoulder holster as she peeked through the peephole set in the door. It was only when she spotted “Police CSU” painted on the side of the truck and the stallion in the gray trilby jumping out of the cab that she relaxed.

“In here, Phil,” she called, opening the door and exiting with Autumn.

“You okay?” Phillip asked, noting the tension in their bodies, the remnants of shock in Autumn’s eyes.

“We’re both fine,” Daring said. “But we just met a friend from Eagle Trust.”

She gave them both a quick explanation of what had happened. Twilight gasped at all the right parts, her eyes widening, while Phillip scowled.

“Did you get any details?” Phillip asked.

“Green eyes, about three foot five, left hooved,” Daring reported. “He had a Steel and Eastson Model 10 with a blue finish.”

“Twi?” Phillip asked.

“Right,” Twilight said, entering the room and scanning everything with her magic aura. The lock on the door sparkled and she leaned in closer.

“Looks like the intruder used a spell to unlock the door from outside,” she commented, scanning the ground. A line of glowing hoofprints--Skytrotter brand, size thirteen--appeared on the ground up to the threshold but vanished when it reached the carpet.

“Darn. The carpet makes it too hard to pick up traces,” Twilight frowned.

The trail itself led around to the back of the motel and through the copse of trees behind the Barn to a street, where it disappeared amidst a cluster of tire tracks.

“Sorry, guys,” Twilight said, shaking her head.

“It’s fine, Twilight,” Phillip nodded. “But we do know one important thing.”

“What’s that?” Autumn asked.

“They asked you where Gold is,” Daring said. “Which means…”

“They don’t know where he is!” Twilight cried. “We still have a chance to find him!”

Autumn let out a cheered laugh. “So what do we do now?” she asked, hopping around excitedly.

“We should go to the Heavenly Bawdy, ask about Quick,” Phil said. “One of them will know something.”

“Oooh, can I go?” Autumn asked.

“No,” Daring said. “You’re going with Twilight to the police station to give a statement.”

“I have so many questions!” Twilight cried, immediately beckoning Autumn over to the truck. “I’ve read about kirin in books, but I never thought I’d meet one in real life!”

Autumn’s look of mingled disappointment and surprise turned into a broad grin as she climbed into the truck. “Well, today’s your lucky day, then!”

“To the Bawdy?” Daring asked, scooping up Phillip beneath his forelegs.

He sighed in resignation at her touch. “Let’s go.”

With a whoosh of wings, Daring shot into the air and headed west.

---

Right on the western edges of Ponyville, just barely within the city limits, past the tall buildings and ornate mansions of the Financial District, an airship gondola sat within its own little block, as if it had fallen out of the sky and miraculously landed in one piece. The entire edifice was painted in sensuous reds and whites, and a flickering neon sign over the door featured an image of an airship set before a golden-orange sun. Even this early in the day, there were quite a few cars parked in the lot.

Above the neon sign was a poster featuring a familiar cyan unicorn mare posing against a pole, smiling coquettishly at the visitors through her golden bangs, her flank tilted to accentuate the lightning bolt and two hoofprints on her flank. Phillip frowned at the poster, the specter of the dead mare’s pale, purple-specked, bloodstained face dancing over the picture. He shook his head to refocus, trying to ignore the ice that was settling in his stomach.

As Phillip and Daring approached the door, they spotted a sign nailed next to the door declaring that all entrants would be charged a ten-bit cover fee, with another sign beneath it reading “Rules of Conduct.” At the top was a bolded warning:

Feel free to look, but DO NOT TOUCH THE GIRLS. Harassment will not be tolerated!

On the other side of the door was a large sign declaring that the Bawdy was holding auditions and performances for new dancers over the week, with young mares of all species being invited to join.

Phillip opened the door and they entered into the welcoming embrace of cool darkness. A small dark hallway with red carpeting opened up before them, leading to a pair of double doors. Music and the sound of voices thumped from behind the doors, inviting them closer.

“Welcome to the Heavenly Bawdy!” an attendant in a suit and tie declared through a screen that led into what had been the ticket office.

“Detectives Finder and Do,” Phillip said, holding out his PI license. “We’re here to ask about the murder of Quick Step.”

The doorpony’s face fell. “Yes, yes,” he nodded. “Petina is doing a show right now. She’ll speak to you.”

They proceeded through the double doors into a large, dark room that smelled of grilled food and expensive alcohol, with a teasing aroma of flowery perfumes behind it. The wide-open sitting room had several round tables beneath dim lights. A long bar took up most of the back wall, the drinks displayed with the aid of cool blue and orange lighting; the scent of food wafted out from the double doors next to the bar. As the detectives entered, a waitress in a tight, backless blue dress exited the doors, balancing a steaming tray of pasta on her back. A trio of lean bouncers, two unicorns and a griffon, sat in the corners of the room, all of them wearing suits that were clearly tailored to hide body armor. What was not hidden, however, were the stun batons and pepper spray canisters on their belts.

But the main attraction in the Bawdy was the dancing stage. The curtained stage took up the entirety of the far wall and featured three gleaming silver poles; an extension of the stage extended out like an inlet to a smaller, circular stage, the entire construct lit with golden lights. Three mares, all of them clad in stockings and saddles, danced upon the stage to “Geraldine’s Routine,” tossing their manes and shaking their flanks as they twirled and spun around the poles.

Phillip and Daring approached the bartender. “Detectives Do and Finder,” Daring introduced themselves, laying some bits on the bar. “We’re looking for Petina and a Manticore Rare on the rocks.”

“You’re here about Quick, aren’t you?” the griffon in the bowtie and suit asked, already pouring her a glass of bourbon. His voice carried a tinge of a Griffonese accent. “The police were already here, talked to us briefly. Petina broke the news to the rest of the crew already. Damn shame. That’s her up on stage, the white unicorn.”

Daring and Phil turned to face the pony in question. The pure white unicorn clad in red that accentuated all of her athletic curves had a large, poofy mane and tail and a cutie mark of a bit sign. Her green eyes twinkled as she spun around the pole in the center, flanked by a hippogriff and a pegasus, and she winked at some of the cheering patrons watching hungrily from the edge of the stage.

But Daring and Phil had seen enough wooden smiles to recognize one when they saw it.

Petina spun around the pole, hooking her hind legs around it to hang upside down. As she completed her twirl, she spotted Phil and Daring at the bar and frowned for a half-second, clearly recognizing who they were. She climbed off the pole, recollecting herself and replacing the mask as the song began to swing into its final verse.

“What’s your name, mate?” Phillip asked.

“Dricka,” the griffon replied, refilling the beer glass being held by a slouching pegasus with scruffy blue hair. “I’ve been working here for some thirteen-odd years now.”

“Did you know Quick Step?” Phillip asked.

“Ja,” Dricka nodded. “She started working for us a couple of years ago. Sweet girl, one of our best dancers. In fact, she was going to be our headliner: you probably saw the poster out front.”

Phillip nodded thoughtfully. “You know if there’s anypony here who might be jealous of her?” he asked quietly. “Anypony who might be angry about her being the headliner?”

Dricka glanced up at Petina as the song ended. The trio of dancers all took a pose as the crowd applauded and whistled. The bartender leaned in closer.

“The pegasus on the left, Honey Melody,” he muttered, nodding to the golden pegasus who was smiling coquettishly at her admirers, winking through her brown and green bangs and wiggling her rump to display her stocking-accentuated flanks, each adorned with a honey jar with a musical note printed on the label.

“She was Quick’s neighbor, lived in the same apartment building,” Dricka said. “And she really wanted that headliner position. Put on a brave face when Petina announced that Quick won, but she was really pissed after, unburdening herself to me like I’m her therapist and priest.” He frowned and wiped down the bar. “They were friends, but competition can change ponies.”

Petina hopped off the stage and trotted over to the bar, her tail swishing behind her. “Well, well,” she said in a purring tone, a trace of a Neigh Orleans accent around the edges of her syllables. “The most famous detectives in Ponyville. Welcome to the Heavenly Bawdy.”

“Thanks,” Daring nodded, extending her hoof. “Sorry we have to meet under these circumstances.”

“I’m sure,” Petina said, looking the couple up and down with a strange glimmer in her eyes. “Shall we discuss this in private?”

She led them through a set of double doors labeled “Employees Only” to the backstage area. A set of curtains hid the staging area from the main stage. Another bouncer was leaning against the wall, tossing his stun baton to himself. A hallway led down to a large green room; a cluster of dancers was chatting around a row of brightly lit vanity tables, adjusting their costumes and applying last-minute touches to their makeup. A line of lockers stood in the back of the green room: as Daring and Phil passed, Honey Melody unlocked her locker with a small blue key on a ring and pulled out a bar of nicotine gum.

Petina continued to a door marked “Office” and opened it, beckoning the detectives inside. They entered what looked more like a living room than an office: the desk with its papers neatly stacked upon it had a chaise lounge instead of a chair, and a low sofa with several cushions was set up for visitors. A minibar held a collection of expensive wines and liquors, and the walls were lined with art of a decidedly sensuous nature. Photographs of Petina with what appeared to be staff members of the Heavenly Bawdy decorated the desk, and Phillip and Daring both quirked their eyebrows when they saw a plushie of Princess Celestia the size of a small mare sitting behind the chaise lounge. The place smelled of lavender and roses.

“Make yourselves comfortable,” Petina said as she took off her costume and hung it up on a ponyquin in the corner. “Much as I’d love to invite you to stay longer, business before pleasure.” She sat down on the chaise lounge, gesturing for her guests to sit down on the sofa.

“I already spoke to the police a few hours ago when they came to tell me that they found her: I don’t know what else I can tell you,” Petina sighed. “But I’ll answer any questions you have.”

Phillip nodded. “When did you last see Quick Step?”

“Last night when she was leaving around nine PM,” Petina replied. “She’d just finished her shift and was headed home.”

“Did you notice anything unusual that night?” Phillip asked.

Petina frowned. “She’d seemed a bit preoccupied with her coltfriend recently, and she said that she wanted to get home quick to talk to him. He’s some kind of banker. I asked her what was wrong, but she didn’t want to talk about it.” She scowled bitterly. “No doubt had something to do with the fucking mob.”

“You think the mob had something to do with this?” Phillip asked, tilting his head to the side.

Petina made a noise like an angry cat and began speaking, her Neigh Orleans accent slipping deeper and deeper into her words with every sentence. “I’ve run the Bawdy for years, and practically on day one, that bastard Monopoly and his shit-faced thugs were knocking on my door. Every month, I had to pay up or risk getting my dancers or customers hurt. I remember how Mother-damned hopeless and frustrating it was, knowing that these bastards were running things and there was fuckshit nothing I could do about it...and then you two came along.” She gave the detectives a hard look.

“There was a time when young, sweet, innocent girls with stars in their eyes like Quick Step wound up dead on a regular basis. But that was before you two. Before you took out Monopoly and Silvertongue. Before you killed Whitestone and Zugzwang.”

Black eyes flashed before Phillip’s eyes. A gurgling, inequine voice laughed in his ear and cold slime ran down his face. His chest tightened and his breath began to stab at his lungs; it took a moment for him to push the panic down, and he almost missed Petina’s next words.

“Detectives, are you okay? What’s wrong?” Petina asked, her face creased with concern.

“It’s...it’s fine,” Phillip said and cleared his throat, ordering the memories to get back into the dark where they belonged.

Petina looked down at one of the many pictures on her desk, a framed photograph of herself and Quick Step, both of them posing on stage and grinning at the camera. “This was from her first day here,” she mumbled, mostly to herself, then shook her head and looked up. “This shit isn’t supposed to happen. Not anymore,” Petina was growling, anger and grief sparkling in her emerald irides. “Find them, detectives. Find the bastards who killed Quick.”

“We will,” Daring said reassuringly, raising her left hoof in a conciliatory gesture even as she tucked her right hoof closer to her side, hiding a wince. “Anything you know might help.”

“Have you ever met Quick’s coltfriend, Gold Signature?” Phillip asked.

“A few times,” Petina nodded. “She brought him backstage a few times to chat and meet the other girls. He was nice enough, but I didn’t know him that well. You’d have to talk to Honey Melody about him: Honey was her neighbor, lived in the same building as her.”

Daring and Phil glanced at each other. “Speaking of Honey,” Daring said. “Would you know if any of the other dancers had reason to be angry at Quick?”

Petina’s eyes widened in shock. “What?! You think one of them killed her?!” she cried, her accent biting furiously into her words.

“We have to consider every possibility,” Phillip said calmly. “Did she ever fight with the other dancers?”

Petina glared at him. “I know that show business can be cutthroat--Faust knows, I’ve been stabbed in the back by ponies I thought were friends more than once. And yes, sometimes the girls argue or fight amongst each other, and I know a few of them were upset that I chose Quick to be the new headliner instead of them, but none of them would kill her.”

Phillip decided to say nothing. “We’ll still need to talk to the dancers and employees here.”

Petina glared at him for a moment longer, then composed herself and nodded. “Of course you do,” she grumbled through her teeth. “I’ll call you if I think of anything else, but right now, I’ve got some work to do.”

Phillip and Daring stood up and headed for the door, but as they crossed the threshold, Petina called, “Detectives, if you’re going to accuse one of my girls, you’d better damn well have some good fucking proof.”

With that thought, the two closed the door behind them. As soon as they were alone, the panic came back in, waves of crushing pressure rushing over them as his name echoed in their ears, his face danced before their eyes. A passing dancer looked them over in concern, her offers of assistance washed away by his bubbling laughter.

“I need some air,” Phillip said, shaking his head and heading for a backstage door.

“Me too,” Daring said, following him.

They pushed their way up the hall to a backstage door, pushing it open to head outside. The warm sunlight on their faces brought them back to reality, the crisp air that they breathed in deep slowed their heartbeats.

“Is this ever gonna get better?” Daring asked, shaking her head and mopping her face.

“I hope,” Phillip nodded.

“You two all right?” a voice asked. They turned to see Honey Melody herself leaning against the wall of the Bawdy, still chewing on her nicotine gum and doing some light stretches to ease the kinks out of her joints.

“We’re fine,” Phillip said, his heartbeat returning to normal. “You’re Honey Melody?”

“I am,” Honey said, wiping some of her mane out of her face. Up close, the detectives could see beneath the mask of makeup that she wore. Her golden eyes were moist and streaked with red, and every trace of the smile she wore earlier was gone, replaced by an aura of grief.

“I know who you two are,” she said. “Detectives Finder and Do. You’re here about Quick.” She sniffled and wiped at her eye. “Sorry, I...I’ve been crying on and off since Petina told us this morning.”

“You sure you’re okay to perform?” Daring asked.

“Petina already asked if I wanted to go home,” Honey replied. “I gotta dance, otherwise I’m just going to be crying all day. She was my friend, and now she’s just…” A strangled sob escaped her and she buried her face into her hoof for a moment, her body quivering as she fought for control. It only took a moment for her to force the tears down and look up again.

“Is it okay if we ask you some questions?” Daring asked.

“Okay,” Honey nodded.

“When did you last see Quick Step?” Phillip asked.

“Last night, when I got home,” Honey said, her voice shaky. “I...congratulated her on getting the headliner spot. She said I should’ve won…” A shadow of bitterness danced across her countenance for a moment, but then was gone. “But she won fair and square and I told her so. We chatted for a bit and then said good night.”

“And this morning?” Phillip asked.

“I was out the door just before ten, took the bus in,” Honey replied. “Quick usually takes the bus with me, I was wondering where she was. I’d just gotten myself ready when Petina came in and…” She sniffled again and swallowed.

Phillip paused for a moment. “Did you know her coltfriend, Gold Signature?”

“Fairly well,” Honey nodded. “I know he works at some kinda shady bank, but he seemed nice enough, and Quick liked him. That was good enough for me.” She chuckled once. “Can’t hold his liquor worth shit, though. Is he okay?”

“We’re still looking for him,” Phillip said. He paused for a beat, then added, “Honey, I’m sorry to ask you this, but was there anypony who had reason to be angry at Quick?”

Honey shook her head and sniffled. “No, no, everypony liked her,” she said, her voice quivering. “Everypony here loved her. She knew how to make everypony here smile even if they were having a shit day, she helped teach the newer dancers, she always…”

Her voice cracked and she buried her face in her hoof, her entire body shaking as a fresh wave of tears racked it. “I’m sorry, I need to be alone,” she croaked out. She stumbled over to the door and pulled out the same blue key that she’d used to open her locker. After a few blind attempts, she managed to insert the key into the doorknob and turned it. The pickproof charm on the doorknob flashed briefly and she opened up the door, heading inside with a last choked sob.

Phil and Daring glanced at each other. “What do you think?” Phil asked.

“She managed to put on a smile on stage; she’s definitely a good actor,” Daring commented. “But she’s just one dancer here. Any one of them could’ve had a reason to not like her. And then there’s still that angle with Eagle Trust.”

Phillip sighed and mopped his face. “I hope the others are having better luck than us. Let’s see what else we can find out here and then head to the precinct.”

Author's Note:

Petina belongs to Baron-Engel, used with his knowledge and permission. If you're not already watching him on DeviantArt, go do it!

I'm particularly proud of this chapter; I think it really brings back the noire-esque themes that were missing in some of the last parts of V2. If you liked it, be sure to leave a like and a comment!