Mule PI: The Watchstallion

by Oat Cakes

2 Train

10 Aqu 999

Vehicular Vanishing Act
Canterlot Express 948435 Missing

The Neighagra Falls rail administration office reported the all clear when the massive 40 car freight train #948435 left its yard on the 5^th of Aquamarine. The three day journey to Manehatten has developed into a full search and rescue effort. See the ongoing story on page 2. To join the search effort see page 5.

New Methods in Rock Farming Geolomancy and aquamancy researchers Wild Fissure and Jelly Squeeze from PCSGU are baffling alchemists by turning coal into diamonds. Their secret ingredient? Just add water! Interviews and a citation for their work are on page 3.

Weather Shortage This years slow winter wrap-up continues to cause issues in the weather sector. Bucket Blast, weather coordinator for Las Pegasus, states, “We make weather from water. You can get water lots of places--rivers, lakes--lots of places. You can’t get weather water out of the ground though. A late winter wrap-up means a lot of snow melted in places we can’t reclaim. About 10% of the spring weather water is stuck in the ground. It doesn’t sound like a lot, but remember this is the rainy season--it adds up fast.” Full interview page 4.

Bang bang bang bang. Dust ejected from the ceiling of the file room, drifting expertly as they maneuvered into Quick Sort’s morning tea. “I’m up!” he shouted so loudly that the ceiling shook again and the dust seasoned his buttered toast.

“Not up enough,” called a muffled Mule, “I want to see the new cases.”

With a huff that blew a cloud of dust, Quick gathered a thick pile of case folders that were set on the cabinet nearest the door while levitating the remains of his breakfast to a waste bin. While climbing the stairs he made an effort to be loud enough for the old mule to hear him approaching. When Quick swung the door open he found Mule sitting on his cushion and looking out the window.

“How many were there?” Mule inquired.

“There’s eight of them,” Quick answered as he pulled them from his saddle bag and placed them onto the empty desk.

“Read them out, my eyes are old,” said Mule, not looking away from the window.

Quick shuffled the folders so that their tabs were visible and their names were legible. “Clock bells were stolen in Van Hoover--”

“Hmp,” Mule interrupted, “too far.”

“Okay, a grave robbing at River Horn manor.”

“Hmp.”

“... School supplies missing from--”

“Too cheap.”

“What? Why?” Quick responded with both intrigue and annoyance.

“School wont pay what I’m worth, next.”

Quick frowned, not wanting to neglect a school in need. He finally complied, schools can wait; he came here for bits. Quick returned his attention to the case files, “Officer poisoned in Baltimare.” He paused in brief anticipation.

“Tell me more,” Mule requested.

The case folder was the thickest out of all eight and contained two dense sets of papers bound by paperclips and a single loose sheet that levitated to Quick. From this sheet he read, “To Mule P.I. my daughter has been murdered and the guard refuses to investigate further,” Mule turned his ears as he looked out the window, “They have found nothing, no suspect, no motive. I tried to pull some strings, but there’s only so much I can do in retirement. Sharp Eyes was to inherit the estate, but with her passing I am lost. In this post I have included reports from the investigation. Please, ease my heart and find justice for Sharp. EUP LTJG Half Helmet.”

Mule took a long look out the window before turning to face Quick Sort. While taking and reading through the letter for himself Mule asked, “How long was the investigation?”

Quick looked over the cover pages of the two stacks of reports in confusion, there were clearly two separate investigations. After a moment comparing the dates of the reports Quick replied, “Five days for the first, two days for the second.”

The letter was forgotten as Mule gave Quick his full attention, much to his surprise as this was the first time Mule appeared to give anything his full attention. “In the top left corner of the second investigation reports,” Mule directed, “does it say RBIA?”

A quick check revealed, “Yes.” The word struck like a a needle and Mule deflated in his seat. For nearly a full minute he stared vacantly at the wall behind Quick, who had begun to fidget. He was relieved when Mule finally turned and looked out the window. Quick couldn’t hold his curiosity any longer and asked, “What is RBIA?”

“They were...” Mule took a long, tortuous, moment of contemplation, “... they’re better detectives than I was--than I am.” Mule grunted, as if to interrupt himself and stated, “There were eight.”

Quick paused in confusion, “Oh, right.” After levitating the reports and letter back to their case folder, he read the next, “Body guard for the Feather Bangers: murder or accident, from Skysafe.”

“I don’t work for insurance... Whats the pay?” Mule stated.

The first page of the request listed the pay as, “Fifteen thousand bits.”

“I sometimes work for insurance,” Mule corrected. “Who are the Feather Bangers?”

“They’re a music group from the east coast, Manehatten I think.”

“You didn’t read that,” Mule noticed. “They’re popular. Or are you just a fan?”

Quick insisted, “No no no, not a fan--”

“How popular? I don’t see them in the papers.”

“They’re,” Quick took a moment to consider his phrasing, ”more popular in magazines for young mares.”

“Hmp, not touching that.”

“But, the bits--”

“Aren’t worth the publicity. We’re going to River Horn.” Mule rose from his seat, stretching for a moment before addressing Quick, “Pack the case file, plenty of paper, and”--He looked at the stained saddle bag--”no ink.”

While Quick packed his bag he turned to Mule, who was exiting his office, and asked, “What about filing those cases, and any new cases?”

Mule raised an eyebrow but kept walking as he said, “And leave you alone in my home? Hmp.”

---

“So, give me the details,” Mule said, then took a bight of his salad before returning to look out the dining car window.

Quick set down his hay-fries and washed down his oatburger with lemonade. “We’re half way there, you haven’t looked?” he asked.

“That’s your job.” Mule stated, but Quick suspected Mule’s new attention for the case had more to do with gaining a window seat over lunch than with Quick’s job.

The case file levitated from the overhead compartment down, ”Lets see,” said Quick as he skimmed the remarkably short letter. “There’s not a lot of details. One week ago the Horn Manor graveyard was broken into overnight. It was discovered the next day when a section--”

“Was there a watchstallion?” Mule interjected.

The levitating page flipped as Quick scanned both sides, “It doesn’t say.”

“Hmp.”

After a taking a second to regain his place in the text, Quick continued, “The next day a section of fence was discovered to have been cut. Several valuable heirlooms from the mausoleum were stolen.” He paused to take a drink of lemonade--skimming ahead as he did so--”It says to visit the manor for more details on the heirlooms, if you accept the job. The pay is--”

Mule gave a dismissive grunt.

“Whats that mean?”

“Means the pay doesn't matter,” Mule said as he turned back to his meal.

Like an itch at the back of Quick’s spine, annoyance crawled its way up his back and exited his mouth, “The pay matters when its for helping a school but not some noble’s private graveyard?”

Mule snorted and appeared to almost be smiling as he chewed.

“You didn’t even look at three of the cases! What are you even doing?” Quick asked, running out of steam as he noted the mule’s amusement. “What?”

“You done?” Mule asked, receiving an annoyed huff in return. “I do care about the pay.”

Quick did not look convinced as he took a bite of his oatburger.

“Hmp. Fine,” Mule began to explain, “this client is a noble, Lord Horn--a noble who was just disrespected. He’s going to pay however much I tell him I’m worth.” Mule smiled as he continued, ”There’s no Lord in Equestria who can hear my offer and think, ‘that mule is worth more than my pride,’ none of them.”

Quick’s unamused look remained as he asked, “You want to haggle them for more than a hundred thousand bits?”

“A HUNDRED THOUSAND BITS! Why didn’t you say?”

Quick sighed into his cold oatburger.

Mule chuckled, “Heh, Lord Horn will pay a hundred twenty, at least, if I’m not too rusty.”

An awkward, oat filled, acknowledgement was returned as Quick imagined. Watching the passing trees turn to fields, he imagined what a hundred thousand bits would do for him. He could certainly earn his stars, it would hardly scratch such a fortune. Quick dreamed as fields turned to river and back to fields. Maybe traveling would do him some good, to cross the sea--not as a bosun but as a privileged passenger. The sky was a soft orange when he considered the expectations of his defunct House of Keys. A noble, wealthy, and gifted unicorn should pursue the pinnacle of knowledge--found a university, invent a school of magic, anything to put your name on--all that or politics.

A sharp Skreeee pierced the dinning car as Quick was recalled to reality. While waiting for the train to stop, he took stock of his surroundings. It was nearly time for sunset and the dinning car housed only Quick and his meager luggage. Said luggage lurched in its compartment as the train stopped at the platform.

“End of the line! Please alight for the evening! This station is River Horn!” called a surprisingly familiar voice. Electing not to find the mule and to instead sate his curiosity, Quick peered down the well lit platform towards the conductor. She was a mare, which Quick confirmed by the sound of her shouting as she continued to call down the platform--and most definitely did not confirm by watching her tail, which was long and tied off with a green ribbon. Straining his eyes, he could tell that her coat was very light, and that she had a short brown mane, covered mostly by a red and gold conductors hat.

“You can chase tail later,” Mule said as he prodded Quick from behind.

Quick sputtered something between a cough and a curse, then turned--red in the face--and growled, “Don’t sneak up on me.”

“Hmp. Use your ears.” Mule pointed across the station to the town, then to the right where a stone tower could be seen well above the tree line in the distance and said, “Lets get there before dark.”

Author's Note:

I’m so sorry for the pun.
Also, wow this feels so slow but there's so much to set up.

Comments

[Alaric]

I look forward to more.