Murder at Maresfield Manor

by Flutterguy89

Chapter Four: Rarity's Lament

Chapter Four: Rarity's Lament

The night had been productive and a new theory of the crime was shaping up. Twilight and I sat at the large preparatory table in the kitchen work-shopping the hypothesis.

“So, do you think Derpy might have known you’re little silver trick?” I said, absentmindedly scratching my ear as I spoke.

“I don’t know, I mean it’s not hard to find out about, but it doesn’t matter, really. She would have handled the silverware every day. Perhaps even if she didn’t know how to identify counterfeit silver, she might have noticed something was off.” Twilight said stifling a yawn.

“Meaning perhaps the murder was committed to silence the housekeeper...” I turned the idea over in my head. “But then why stick around? And why kill her when everyone was in the room, insuring that killer would be a suspect? Granted few killers really manage to plan that far ahead…”

I massaged my brow with my hoof; I really hated having my hooves idle while I thought. “Oh well, I think we can call it a night. I suppose even I need a bit of sleep now and then, and we wouldn’t want the others to get too suspicious about me drawing you into my confidence.”

Twilight gave a tired chuckle that quickly devolved into another yawn. “You, make it sound like I’m a spy.”

I grinned, “Yeah, I guess I do. Well on that note, you might want to head out a little before me. Don’t want anyone hearing us walk down the hall together.”

“Nighty night then, inspector,” She said as she rose from the table and headed back down through then house toward the guest rooms. I waited alone in the kitchen, watching the shadows cast by my candle flicker and dance. After several minutes, I got up and traced back the route to my room.

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On my way back to my quarters I was reminded of one last piece of evidence I needed to examine. I crept slowly into Blueblood’s old study, the dusty room appearing even more frightfully antiquated by candlelight. I stole over to the desk and removed the intricately decorated diary with simple application of my magic. With the book floating along behind me I made my way back to my room.

I shut the door and turned the lock before I dare crack open the diary’s dusty pages.

Property of Rarity, the new Countess of Maresfield.

The hand writing was intricate and loopy. Rarity, it seems, was schooled in calligraphy. I flipped through the tome. The entries seemed mostly mundane. What she had had for breakfast, what life was like living in such a large house, etc., etc.

However, as I read on the tone began to shift. The writing, once beautiful, had devolved into a hasty scrawl, as if the Countess had taken to keeping this journal a secret. Then the stories started. The Count seemed to have taken to getting drunk, and was beginning to get violent. She had been trapped by the Count’s reputation, to go to the police would have been fruitless, or so Blueblood had told her. He had said the entire force was in his saddle pocket. Rarity had felt trapped, afraid of losing the station she had long coveted. Tears soon began to stain the pages, and a final entry told of attack so… grotesque… I felt my own eyes beginning to mist over. Blueblood had committed the ultimate act of violation. A final few words indicated the Countess no longer feared for her virtue, as it had been stripped so violently from her, now she feared for her life.

I exhaled slowly, and tried to will my emotions to regress, but the heinous nature of the late Count’s actions left me a hollow shell, filled only with rage and sorrow.

One thing was certain though; a new spin had certainly been put on Blueblood’s death.

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I had only managed to put away a couple hours of fitful sleep after the discoveries of the previous night. As sunlight poured through the windows of the room, I groaned and with some effort lifted myself off the bed.

I stared at the journal, which had come to rest on a side table. It simply sat there, the ugly truths held within disguised by its covers.

It was no good; I needed to see the Countess. She had told me that it had been Derpy who had discovered the body of her husband, if she had had a hoof in his death perhaps the housekeeper had said something. Perhaps that’s why she was kept around, kept close to ensure silence... and killed when the mare could no longer live with the guilt. Rarity may have killed once to preserve her life once, but could she have killed to preserve her secrets?

But why then would she weep over Derpy’s death? That fact didn’t add up.

I needed to confront her. Maybe I could even get her to tell the truth if I could get her on her own. I left my room and started toward the direction Twilight and I had heard Rarity go after her time in the kitchen. Before long I was able to locate what appeared to be a bedroom door, though only by knocking was this suspicion concerned.

The Countess Rarity opened the door a crack, just enough for her bloodshot eye to identify me as her visitor.

“What do want inspector? It is quite rude to call upon the lady of the house so early, even more so to do so at the door to my personal chambers.” Her voice was slightly hoarse, but she had attempted to fill it with the same haughty tone she had used so fluidly the night before.

“I need to talk to you,” I levitated the journal into her line of sight, “privately.”

What could be seen of the Countess’s face recoiled in shock. “Where did you… he took it to his study… of course…” She shook her head wearily and opened the door, “Fine, come in…let’s get this over with…”

The once immaculate Lady Rarity looked but a shadow of her former self. Her eyes were as red as my namesake and her mascara had run down her cheeks, leaving grey trails of sorrow in her once immaculate snowy coat. Her once painstakingly styled mane hung about her head in frizzy tangle, with her tail in a similar state. She motioned me over towards a small desk with a pair of chairs in front of it. “Please sit. I figured that it would come to this…”

The Countess hung her head in shame and seated herself opposite me.

“This is very important; I need you to tell me the whole truth. I can tell when anypony holds even the slightest thing back, and the only way I can trust you is if you give the Celestia’s honest truth.” I spoke evenly, but I could not keep a sense of urgency from my voice.

The Countess studied my face, her eyes boring into my own. Without warning she reached a hoof out to my cheek and felt a patch of fur under my eye, still rough with the dried tears shed for Rarity’s plight.

“You cried,” She stated plainly, her voice breaking slightly.

“Yes,” I replied trying to tear my gaze from her eyes, which now glistened with new tears.

She removed her hoof and took a moment to regain her composure. “Not all unicorns would. My story may seem tragic to some, but much of aristocracy didn’t bat an eye at the obvious clues of what that monster did to me. My own parents seemed to believe that it was just the price of marrying well. ‘I’m sure it will get better, darling,’ they told me, ‘He’ll calm down and settle into his life with you.’ Yet they still wonder why I haven’t spoken to them since his funeral.” She let out a bitter chuckle.

“Yes. I killed him. If what you say is true I can’t hid that anymore. He came to me at night while I sat sketching designs on the parlor. His rage had been magnified by drink. He said he had found my diary, and accused me of attempting to compile lies with which to blackmail him. Lies? Really? Every bucking word was true. He stuck me, once, and then again and again. He was wild eyed and I could tell he wouldn’t stop. I levitated a curtain cord around his neck and tied it into a noose, squeezing off his air until his face turned as blue as his Luna-damned name.” The Countess’s voice was filled with a cold fury but soon this too broke.

“And then…Derpy walked in… She stood open mouthed at me, I expected her to scream, to run for the others. But no, she just looked at me and asked in the most pitiful voice I had ever heard: ‘is it over?’ Tears rimmed the poor girl’s eyes. She revealed to me that I hadn’t been the only one that monstrosity that called itself a pony had hurt. She told me that she had reported him to the senior staff but they didn’t care… Oh Celestia… poor innocent Derpy… She offered to help me… Together we hung the bastard from the rafters. After the investigation I fired the rest of his staff. Derpy was all I had left… sisters in a terrible shame… Now… She’s gone…” Rarity buried her face in her hooves.

I extended a comforting hoof to her shoulder. She had been telling the truth. Every word.

“Wh- what now?” Rarity whispered to me. “You… you have to arrest me right?”

I considered her words. It was my duty wasn’t it? To ensure justice, uphold the law, no statute of limitations on murder, and all that.

“I’m here to solve only one murder,” I said flatly, making the decision that I knew full well could haunt me, “and that is the death of Derpy Hooves.”

Author's Note:

It may have taken a couple weeks, but here it is. This chapter once again reminds me why I added the 'Dark' tag. So this is sort of the beginning of the end, as far as the story is concerned. We have two suspects down, four to go. Maybe two more chapters and an epilogue, I think. We shall see how it goes.

Now go read something happy!

Comments

[Nolongerposting]

Dun Dun Dunn. Love the continuation and can't wait to find out which one of these 'innocent' mares did it. Or if there was some outside party that did it.

[Seether00]

Butler did it!

[Fiddlebottoms]

2463846
"But the butler was the victim."

"A suicide, perfect! No arrest needed."

[not the real VAV]

I have made my accusation! It was Colonel Mustard in the Dining Room with a Dumbbell! - wait...this isn't Clue? Huh...well I mean...Hasbro did make a remake of the board game so...