Taking the Case in Hand

by IGIBAB

Chapter 4 - Unforeseen News

"The analysis takes long?"

"It's practically immediate."

The unicorn in charge of the police's analysis department levitates a bag containing the candy I found, gets the potential clue out, putting it in a strange device he then activates with his magic.

It's too late to launch ourselves into a chase after our only lead. The last train departed at least two hours ago, the only thing to do is to send a wanted notice, and agents to Manehattan tomorrow.

So, in the meantime, Lyra and I are in the police station's lab – a big white room with a lot of scientific apparatus – to know if the only abnormal element on the scene of the crime has any sort of relevance or not.

Concretely, to me, it matters. Even if that device doesn't reveal any imprint, I'll stay convinced that its presence at this location isn't a mere coincidence. This candy has something to do with this case.

"We modernised a bit," explains Lyra while glancing at me out of the corner of her eye, attempting a smile.

"Hm?" I say doubtfully as I turn my head in her direction.

"The device," she answers, pointing at it with a small muzzle gesture. "On top of hooves imprints, now we can also trace back the different types of magic which held the object. And it's not as easily erased as an imprint can be. If a unicorn made it levitate, we'll found her trace, even if Bright Bulb used his magic on it afterwards."

"Bright Bulb?"

"It's me," answers the lab pony with an awkward half-smile.

"Oh, nice to meet you, I'm..."

"I know who you are," he gently cuts. "There's not a lot of detective pony in Ponyville. Everypony knows you in the police station, especially with Lyra always talking about you."

Two strange facts here. First: He's talking with a lot of respect, which no one ever manifested towards me. Second, that detail about Lyra's words, to who I slowly turn my eyes towards, as hers go away, her cheeks slightly pink.

"And what does she says about me?"

"A lot of things," cheerfully says Bright, "for example..."

A series of beeps suddenly cuts him, probably announcing that the analysis is done. A strip of paper comes out of the machine, that he quickly pulls off, looking like he instantly forgot the discussion.

"So..." he says, reading the results, "for hoof imprint, there's Mr. Cake and Miss Cake, that's all. And for magical residues, nothing aside from mine and Lyra's."

"So, absolutely nothing," Lyra concludes at the same time I do too in my head.

"How can you know right away who the imprints belong to?"

"We have a database, with practically all of Ponyville," explains Bright. "And same for magic."

I frown, suspicious.

"When did you put such a system in place?"

"A modernisation wished by the captain after Discord was reformed. He wanted a database sufficiently filled to quickly identify any misdeed. Everything was done rapidly thanks to princess Twlight's help."

"The fact remains that this candy must have ended up here by inattention," adds Lyra, getting back to the original topic, "It's likely that Mr Cake dropped it by accident."

She looks at me, like she's asking what I think about it. I slowly rub my chin with a hoof. Weird, I thought...

"Yes, undoubtedly. Which only leaves us with one lead, and not one we can exploit until tomorrow. But keep it, just in case."

"It's late, do you think it's worth interrogating the second intern now?" she asks.

"Go take some rest," advises Bright. "He's not going anywhere. It's a very serious case, better dive in it with a clear head."

"It's probably the best thing to do, indeed," I say, as I suddenly feel tired, and hungry too. "Thanks for doing the analysis so late."

"No problem," he smiles, "I very much appreciate that I have my part to play in solving this case."

"Have a nice evening, and see you tomorrow," adds Lyra.

I'm already turning around to go away as he happily answers:

"Have a nice evening, you two."

I quickly go through the corridors of the police station, almost out before Lyra hurries and catches up on me.

"Bonbon!"

I stop outside, under the light of the entrance, keeping the door open with my hind leg to let her pass. Once next to me, she turns to me, a little embarrassed, and looks at me straight in the eyes, asking:

"You didn't eat yet, right?"

What...? The suddenness of that question throws me off.

"No, why?" I answer.

Don't tell me she's going to...

"Do you want to eat together...?" she shyly says.

She does. She dares. She has the audacity to! What does she thinks!? That spending a couple of minutes together is going to erase the past!? I tell her with a cold voice:

"No, I have someone waiting for me at home. A way better company than yours."

I leave her on the spot, heading to my house.

"W-Who?" she says, surprised, visibly hesitant about following me.

Good, it intrigues her. She's jealous from the simple fact that I could be with someone else. She knows how it feels like, now... What I felt.

"My loneliness."

She abandons the idea to catch up with me, evidently. Yet, I want her to try, to give me a good reason to yell at her, instead of simply throwing one hurtful comment. I want to be able to unleash all that anger that accumulated in me for the past three years.

But it's in the utter most silence of the night that I return to my house, slamming the door with a hoof-kick.

Straight to my bedroom, my bed, I don't want to take the time to dine. A little liquorice from my night table to calm myself a bit, stave off my hunger and find sleep. Nothing more.

Then, quietness. My thoughts are becoming less cluttered, now that she's not there. Her presence always confuses me! Why does she seems like she wants to go along with me in that investigation, despite the fact that she disturbs me!? It's a murder case, for goodness' sake, let me think in peace!

And I feel like it's going to bother me the whole night...

---

I hate it when I'm right... That kind of night spend rolling around in my bedsheets, it has become a common thing in the last few years... Last three years, in fact. Since that fateful day.

Oh come on! You're not going to think about that again, Bonbon! Think of a way to brush that damn mane instead! That's a real preoccupation!

A breakfast quickly swallowed, only accompanied by the sound of my clock, a mane hastily put in place, and I found myself on my doorstep.

I open, and who do I find right in front of it, with a hoof raised, ready to knock? Her, of course.

"I was afraid I might wake you," she says once she recovers from her surprise. "Well, I thought that it was better to interrogate the second intern as soon as possible and that it would be faster to come and get you... In addition, you don't know who it is.

"No, but you're going to tell me."

She still has that semi-pleading tone. Like if she was trying to apologize with every sentence without having the actual courage to say it clearly. But what does she wants in the end...?

"Open Skies. From the weather team..."

Oh, no need to specify. Just with that name alone, the hairs on my back stand on end. The colt with whom she had a little affair, right after she left me! I'm not going to forget his name!

"He dumped you six month ago, didn't he?" I say nonetheless. "Are you sure you're going to be okay interrogating him?"

"H-He didn't really dumped me," she timidly stutters, "It was from a mutual accord... And this has nothing to do with our relation."

I gauge her at a glance. From what I know, her break up hasn't been easy, but she's trying to hide it. Better avoid her another hardship.

"I'll do the interrogation if it's too hard for you. Let's go."

Without knowing where that surge of compassion for her came from, I get going, realising on the way I suddenly changed in my actions towards her. I hated her five minutes ago, and she even brought up the name of the stallion that made me the most angry in the past couple of years, and yet... I only want to comfort her.

It's been years since that happened... Where is that anger I had? No, it's still there, I feel it, this bitterness encrusted in me. It's only momentary, a weakness, a leftover from what I once felt for her. It's not going to last. As soon as we arrive at the house, it's already gone. The place is empty, which surprises me a bit.

"You didn't put any guard?"

"I thought we did," answers Lyra, frowning, surprised. "Whooves may have called back the guard when I said I was going to get you..."

Getting to the door, I mutter a "Leaving the last person to have seen the victim alive alone..." before knocking.

Or rather than knocking, I mainly notice that the door opens on its own under my hoof. In fact, it's not closed.

An exchange of suspicious gaze with Lyra. I go in.

"Open Skies?"

No answer. We walk into the hall, quietly. No sound, no sign of any presence of any kind.

I look at the door on the right, opening onto the kitchen. Nopony, some kitchen utensils laying on the worktop, as if someone was about to use them, and nothing else. Lyra gives a small tap on my should and I look at her. Her eyes are staring at the thing she's pointing at, on the left, by the other door leading to the living room.

Amongst the sofa, the coffee table, the bookshelves, plants and posters in this living room, a shape is swinging slowly. At the end of a rope.

Author's Note:

Just like ink, the most sympathetic ones are first to disappear

Think I'm going to look into getting a beta-reader in the end...

Comments

[MatTheBook]

Amongst the sofa, the coffee table, the bookshelves, plants and posters in this living room, a shape is swinging slowly. At the end of a rope.

oh dear......

[MatTheBook]

Big empact on Lyra?

[IGIBAB]

11551871
See next week ;)

[MatTheBook]

11551880

Big impact on Lyra? She blames herself for the death. And Bon Bon will have to comfort her.