> The Painless Murders
>  by bkc56
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Prologue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Raven Silverwood was excited. In fact, one might say she was giddy, although she would deny it. Her position at the Canterlot Bureau of New Product Registration often allowed her to see the best, and sometimes the worst, that ponykind had to offer. Some might say it was a boring job, but she found comfort in the predictability. Though the submission dropped off today was anything but typical. The description said it allowed magical transmission of messages over large distances without the aid of a dragon. Momentarily distracted, she sat, chin in hooves. “Just think,” she said to herself, “instantly sending a message from Canterlot to Manehattan.”

She didn’t mind working late to do some initial research on prior art. After all, every submission had to be verified as unique. Several books of previous registrations lay open on the table. Unfortunately, her earlier excitement had been overshadowed. She had discovered an almost identical submission made about six months earlier. The new submission had lab notes with dates going back years. Unfortunately, the previous submission did not include any such notes. That meant there was no history to prove when it was created prior to the submission date. “I’d hate to see this end up in court to determine which claim was actually developed first,” she said to herself. 

Her ears swiveled towards the back room. The other clerk, Mr Outflank, had left an hour before closing, so she should be alone. She turned to locate the source of the noise. Suddenly, she was enveloped in a cloud of blue powder. She coughed. Her throat felt numb. In moments she lost feeling in her body. She stumbled and then collapsed to the floor. With vision blurred and head spinning, she fell over on her side. She looked up to see the smooth underside of the wooden table.
> Chapter 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Do you know what today is?” She smiled innocently at me.

“Tuesday?” I offered, hoping against hope.

“No silly. What’s today to us?”

Do you know what today is? A simple question, but one that drives fear into the hearts of stallions everywhere. I’ve seen a hardened E.U.P. veteran reduced to a simpering foal under the assault of that question. My mind raced hoping to shake loose some answer, any answer that might save me. I had only seconds. If today was to be my end, I would meet it with bravery, and with grace.

“Sorry, Citrine, I don’t know.” My ears fell as I awaited my doom.

Citrine’s sister was across the room, her head buried in a filing cabinet. Without looking up, she declared, “After you’re dead, I get your stuff.”

“Not helping, Opal,” I shot back.

She replied with a dismissive flap of her wings.

Citrine rolled her eyes, then with a big grin she said, “It’s our anniversary.”

I tilted my head and cocked an eyebrow. “What? No. That I do know. Our anniversary isn’t for several months yet.” There was still hope. It wasn’t our anniversary. It wasn’t her birthday. That meant it was a trap, one I might be forgiven for falling into.

“No, no. Not that anniversary. Today marks one year since our first real date.”

I sat up straight, my ears up and alert. “Ahh… And just which first real date would you be referring to?”

“Oh, you and your attention to details. I’m talking about just after the changeling invasion of Canterlot and that missing pony case. You took me to dinner and dancing. It was different. You were different. That was the first time I felt like you were looking for something more than just a fun evening.”

I nodded. “You’re right. I had… changed.” I never see happy couples in this job. But that one case, for Quicksilver and Misty, was different. I saw something in that couple, a closeness that I wanted for myself.

“Well, I noticed the change.” She gave me a soft smile. “And I was thrilled when it looked like you were willing to give us a chance. And look where it led.”

I smirked. “I think it led to a strange land where I get asked if I know what day it is.”

She laughed, and the light seemed to dance in her eyes. “Anyway, happy anniversary. And tonight you’ll take me out somewhere nice, right?”

“Absolutely I will. And I suppose dancing too?” She nodded enthusiastically.

Opal added, “So does that mean I don’t get your stuff?” Citrine and I glanced at each other and snickered.

As Citrine returned to her desk, I surveyed the office. Discrete Discovery Private Investigators had come a long way since I worked solo from that old office-slash-apartment I used. These days the paint was fresh, the building clean, and there was no family of mice subletting behind the bookcase.

Perhaps the biggest change was that the plural ‘Investigators’ was no longer a lie. After her twenty years, Citrine retired from the police force and became my business partner. Not long after, we hired her younger sister, Opal, to manage the office.

I smiled to myself. Perhaps the universe had decided to finally give me a break. Then again...

There was a thump at the door. We all looked up as the door opened, revealing a light blue pegasus. I recognized her immediately. “Misty?”

She was panting. Her ears were down, and her face was stained with tears. Her usually beautiful mane was disheveled and dirty, and her wings hung low at her sides. She fell against the doorframe and slid down to her knees.

I sprang from behind my desk and knelt down in front of her. “Misty, what’s wrong? What happened?” My mind was already grasping at possibilities, none of them good.

Her voice was tight and hesitant. “Please... I need your help.” She closed her eyes and sobbed.

I glanced towards Citrine and tilted my head towards Misty. Citrine moved next to her, sat down, and gently stroked her mane. Opal took a few steps closer, her brow wrinkled with worry.

Misty looked at me. I felt my body tense as I saw the fear and pain reflecting in her eyes. “Please, Mr Steel.” Another sob racked her body. “Quicksilver has been arrested. They say he… They claim he murdered somepony.” Her head dropped as the sobbing overwhelmed her.

My heart stopped. None of the possibilities I’d imagined had been that bad. “He what?” I glanced at Citrine, who returned my wide-eyed gaze, shaking her head ever so slightly. “I don’t believe it.” I gently lifted her chin to look at me. “We’ll figure this out. First, you need to tell me everything you know.” I paused for a moment. “No, wait, I need to do something first.” As I stood up, I touched Citrine on the shoulder. “Take care of her.”

I stepped around them and bolted towards the office at the end of the hall. The sign on the door read Legal Eagle, Attorney at Law. I burst in, relieved to see the gray unicorn sitting at his desk.

Startled by my abrupt entrance, he looked up. “Steel. In a bit of a rush there… Uhh, is something wrong?”

I slid to a stop in front of his desk. “I need your help with a client. Right now. This is really important. Can you come?” I took a tentative step backwards inviting him to follow.

He stood up and gathered a legal pad and pencil in his magic. “You’ve always been there when I needed help with a case. What’s the problem?”

I turned part way around. “It’s a former client of mine. His wife just showed up saying her husband had been arrested for murder. I don’t know anything about the case, but I wanted you there to hear her explanation from the beginning.”

“Absolutely. Let’s go.” He stepped around his desk, and we left the office. As he closed the door he asked, “Am I working for you, or for her.”

We started trotting down the hall. “I don’t know. But I will personally guarantee your fees for now, at least until we get some kind of a handle on this.” He nodded in reply.

We entered my office to find that Misty had been moved to a chair by my desk. She still looked a mess, but she was calmer and sipping from a glass of water. She looked up as Mr Eagle and I entered the room.

“Misty, this is Legal Eagle. He’s an attorney I’ve worked with before. Given the situation, I thought it prudent to get legal help immediately. So, please, start from the beginning and tell us absolutely everything you know. You never know what might be important.” I sat down at my desk. Legal sat in the other chair next to Misty.

“Oh, Mr Eagle. I’m sorry. I must look a fright.” She nervously pawed at her mane.

“Misty, is it?” She nodded. “Please, don’t give it a thought. Right now, all we care about is helping you and your husband. So let’s start with his name and just what happened.”

“My husband’s name is Quicksilver. He’s an alchemist with a degree from the Canterlot School of Gifted Unicorns. One of the projects he’s been working on for the last few years is a mixture to send messages great distances. Steel has seen it.”

She glanced at me, so I added, “I used it in a case for Misty and Quicksilver about a year ago. Absolutely brilliant work.”

The barest hint of a smile momentarily crossed her lips. She returned her focus to the attorney. “He’d finally got it to the point where it was ready to be used commercially in controlled situations. Perhaps ambassadors sending messages to the princesses, or something similar. So yesterday afternoon, he took the completed paperwork, copies of his notes, and a sample of the mixture to the Bureau of New Product Registration. His appointment was for 4:30, and he got home about an hour later. We went out to dinner to celebrate after that.”

She paused to take another sip of water, then closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Letting it out slowly, she continued, “He said the appointment went smoothly. Everything was turned in and recorded. The clerk said she would do a quick check for prior art that evening and start the official filing process in the morning.

“This morning around nine, the Canterlot police showed up at our house. They knocked once and entered before we could even answer the door. We were in the front room, reading, and they arrested Quicksilver right there. They said it was for murder, but they didn’t say who. I heard one of them say it was an open-and-shut case.”

Tears started to well up in her eyes, and once again her voice got tight. “They dragged him out of the house. I didn’t get to speak with him. I didn’t even say goodbye.” She sobbed a couple times, then looked me in the eyes. “I didn’t know what to do, or who to turn to. Then I remembered you and how you helped us before. I got here as fast as I could.”

Eagle finished taking notes on his pad and looked at her. “Misty, I promise we will figure this all out. Trust me when I say we will do everything we can to help your husband.”

She mouthed, “Thank you,” but little more than a squeak came out.

He continued, “Do you have someplace you can go where you won’t be alone?”

She nodded. “I could go home as Tinker would be around. But I’d rather go to my parents’ house.”

I then asked, “So I gather that your handypony Tinker Cob still works for you guys?” She nodded again. “Okay, Opal here will accompany you.” I waved her over. “You go home, pack some things, and have Tinker watch the house. Then you go to your parents’ place and wait there until we contact you.”

Eagle added, “Do not talk to any reporters under any circumstances. If the police want to talk to you, do not say a word until I’m there with you. They can’t force you to talk without your lawyer, so just keep asking for me until I get there.”

Misty nodded her acknowledgment.

I glanced at Opal. “After you get Misty to her parents, come back here. All current cases are on-hold. If any new clients come in, collect their information and tell them we’re booked for at least a week. You hold down the fort, okay?”

Opal moved next to Misty. “No problem. You all do what you need to do. I’ve got this.” She reached out and laid a hoof on Misty’s shoulder. “If you’re feeling up to it, we should head to your parents.”

“Yes, of course,” Misty replied. She then glanced between me and Eagle. “Thank you. Thank you both. I don’t know what I’d do without...”

I grasped her hoof. “You’re welcome, Misty. You go on with Opal now. And try not to worry too much. We’ll know a lot more in a few hours.”

Opal helped Misty stand up, and they slowly walked out of the office and closed the door behind them. The three of us sat quietly for a few moments.

Legal broke the silence. “So, do you think he did it? Could Quicksilver actually have killed somepony? It will make a big difference in how I approach this case.”

“Absolutely not,” I replied, slamming a hoof on the desk. “I know them.” I glanced at Citrine. “We both know them. We’ve gone out together several times. They attended our wedding. I will not believe Quicksilver could hurt, let alone kill anypony.” And I meant every word. Yes, ponies can surprise you with what they're capable of. But not this pony. Not Quicksilver.

“Okay. Then we approach this as a false arrest. Rather than working to build a defense, we’re working to prove his innocence. I also need to try and get him released on bail.”

“So what’s first?” Citrine asked, sitting down in the chair Misty had vacated.

Legal was prompt and direct with his answer. “As his attorney, the law provides for my access to arrest reports and other case information. That extends to my staff, which in this case we’ll specify as you two.” He stood up. “We need to get to the police station immediately.”
> Chapter 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once at the station, we were directed to one of the interrogation rooms. It was a stark, gray room. The way voices echoed on the smooth surfaces was oppressive. That was by design. A heavy metal table was bolted to the floor in the middle of the room. Three uncomfortable chairs sat around it. These were also by design. This was no spa. Any interrogated suspect needed to feel uneasy and on edge. The lights were on in the observation room, defeating the one-way window, so we could be assured of our privacy.

An officer entered the room and set three files down on the table. “The reports are all preliminary. It could be several days before they are finalized.” She then left.

I spun the files around to read the titles. “Citrine, you take the initial crime report.” I slid it over to her. “Legal, you take Quicksilver’s history. I’ll take the crime scene report.” I passed one file to him and opened the third one myself. We sat in silence for a while as we reviewed the files.

Legal started, “Quicksilver doesn’t have much history, which is good. There’s an entry here for an event back when he and Misty were in school.”

“Citrine and I are aware of that one. Remind me. Who was the pony arrested in that case?”

He skimmed the form. “Cloud Walker, aka, Cloudy.”

“We should probably check on him,” I said, glancing at Citrine.

“No need,” Citrine responded. “Looks like the ponies here are doing their job today. A couple detectives were already sent to Cloudsdale to talk to him. Cloudy was in charge of a weather team putting together a storm for the farms around Ponyville last night. Multiple witnesses. He’s in the clear.”

“Hmm…” Something didn’t feel right about this. I wasn’t sure what, but my inner voice was grumbling at me.

She looked up from the file. “What is it?”

“I’m not sure we should dismiss Cloudy so fast.” I brought a hoof up to my chin. “We’ve heard that story from Quicksilver and Misty. There was some pretty bad blood leading up to the lab explosion Cloudy caused. It seemed they resolved their differences later, but what if they didn’t? What if there’s still something there?”

“So you think I should talk to him anyway?” Citrine asked.

I nodded. “Yes, please. He might just let something slip to a cute mare. Something he wouldn’t say to a couple gruff detectives trying to put him on the spot.”

“Gotcha,” she said with a wink. 

I looked back to Legal. “Anything else?”

“Yes, they reported a burglary at their home around seven months ago. The only thing they discovered missing was a bag of bits from the bedroom. The case is unsolved, with no leads.”

“Okay. That doesn’t seem relevant at this point. Citrine, what do you have?”

Citrine had decades of experience reading case files and incident reports. It was second nature. She had no problem sifting through the chaff to expose the wheat and share just the important details.

“The body was discovered at approximately 7:30 in the morning when two employees, a supervisor, Mr Head Honcho, and a clerk, Miss Ivy Dawn, arrived to prepare to open the office at 8:00. Mr Honcho flagged down a passing beat cop for help. He explained the circumstances, and the cop entered the office to assess the situation.

“The victim's neck and back had traces of a blue powder. The first officer on scene touched it, and their hoof immediately went numb.”

Shaking my head, I added, “They’re lucky they didn’t become a second victim.” How could a trained cop be so oblivious to a potential danger like that? Simple self-preservation should have stopped him from touching something he couldn’t identify. “I wonder what this blue stuff is on a dead mare? I think I’ll touch it.” Such a foal.

Citrine looked up. “Yeah, I know. Not everypony gets adequate crime scene training. It was a problem the whole time I was on the force. But to be fair, he was checking to see if the clerk was still alive.” She returned to the notes.

“That cop left the scene to summon additional help. The supervisor sat in the waiting area until they arrived. The clerk was confused and in shock and wandered around the office, cleaning up.”

“Oh, great,” I moaned, raising a hoof to my forehead. “So the crime scene was not secured and was contaminated.” I sighed. “Go on.”

“They found a vial near the body with remnants of the blue powder in it. It was tagged with a reference number that led to a previous submission.” She paused as she read.

“Oh, this is bad. The mixture is named Painless. It’s a topical anesthetic, created by Quicksilver and submitted about a year ago. An overdose causes numbness and paralysis in affected muscles, depressed respiration and cardiac function, confusion, loss of consciousness, and finally death.”

I was feeling a weight settling down on me. “So the murder weapon was created by Quicksilver.”

“Yes. And more problems. Quicksilver’s name was in both the appointment book and on the check-in log. But there is no record or physical evidence that he turned anything in yesterday.”

Legal rubbed the back of his neck as he talked, “So there is sufficient evidence to say he was there, but nothing to prove why he was there. In addition, as the creator of the murder weapon, he would have access and know how to use it.”

I growled to myself, which caused both Citrine and Legal to glance at me. I flipped through the initial crime scene report. “This is a pile of road apples. I need to see the actual scene. I can’t do anything with this garbage.” I threw the report on the table where it slid to the far side. It would have fallen to the floor had Citrine not stopped it. I shrugged. “Sorry, I’m frustrated, and a little worried.”

“You’re justified,” Legal added. “You need to find something that does not point at Quicksilver as the prime suspect. And sooner is better.”

“Okay, it’s time to talk to Quicksilver himself. Citrine, would you please let them know we’re ready for him? Then I want you in the observation room, that way you can--”

She raised a leg. “I know the drill. Observe from a distance without being engaged in the conversation. Watch body language. Watch the overall dynamic of the interrogation. I’ve done this a few times before.”

Touching my hoof to my chest, I replied softly, “I know, I know. I’m sorry.”

She smiled at me. “It’s okay, really. You’re getting into your investigator groove. Just remember, I’m here to help. I’ve got your back.” She stood up and left the room.

I turned towards Legal. “Thoughts?”

He had taken the arrest report and was reading it. Without looking up, he replied, “Just what I said before. It’s time for you to start doing what you do so well. Find me something I can use. You are invested in this case, so work your magic.”

Work my magic. I thought back to the previous case I’d done for Quicksilver and Misty. That was an impossible task. It took ten days of hard work. But in the end, magic happened. I only hope I hadn’t used it all up.

I noticed the light go out in the observation room, turning the window into a mirror. Citrine was in place.

The door opened, and two officers escorted Quicksilver in. He’s only been here a couple hours, but he looked haggard and tired. His head and ears were down, a faraway look in his eyes. But he perked up when he saw me.

“Mr Steel. They said my attorney was here, but I only use him for help with licensing arrangements. I figured Misty had found someone else?” He glanced at Legal.

“Quicksilver, this is Legal Eagle. He’s a colleague of mine. We’ve worked together before. Unless you have somepony else, he’s going to handle all the legal issues as we try to figure this out.”

Legal stood up and shook hooves with Quicksilver. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I just wish it wasn’t in such a stressful situation.”

“Thank you, Mr Eagle. I’m totally out of my element here. I have no idea what to do.”

Legal sat down again, gesturing to a chair for Quicksilver. “You don’t need to know what to do. That’s what Steel and I are for. But we do have some questions...”

“First,” Quicksilver looked at me, “how’s Misty?”

I briefly debated just how specific I should be so as to not overly worry him. “She’s shaken up, as you would expect. But she had the presence of mind to seek help. We sent her to stay with her parents, so she isn’t alone. You don’t need to worry about her.” 

“Okay, thank you. I was so worried about her. They dragged me from the house so fast. The look in her eyes...” He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “So, what do you need?”

Legal took out his pad of paper and prepared to take notes. “First, please tell us everything that happened from the time you left your house until you returned yesterday afternoon.”

Quicksilver raised a hoof to his chin and rubbed it. “Let’s see. I left around four in the afternoon to walk to the Bureau of New Product Registration to submit my Dragon’s Fire mixture. I had the completed paperwork, copies of my lab notes, release notes, and the required mixture sample. I got there a little before my 4:30 appointment and signed in. There was no one else there, so the clerk, who the police said was Raven Silverwood, helped me immediately. She checked to make sure my paperwork was correct, and that everything else was in order. She said she would do a check for any prior art that evening, and start the submission in the morning. I was out of there just before closing at 5:00, and home around 5:30. Misty and I went out to dinner soon after.”

As I listened, I noted that with a few additions, it was almost identical to the sequence Misty had told us. Was that consistent, or convenient? Was the story rehearsed? It wouldn’t be the first time a pair of ponies had done that. On the other hoof, it was mostly just the sequence of events. I’d expect two highly detailed science ponies to be consistent.

“What’s the difference between lab notes and release notes?” Legal asked.

Quicksilver leaned forward and started talking faster. “Lab notes are the complete development history from when I first got the idea. They aren’t required, but I submit them as proof of my process and as an archive. The release notes are what’s needed to produce the mixture. In this case, it’s the formula, how to mix it, how to make the receiving artifacts, and other such details.”

Legal made some notes on his pad. “So the release notes are what the licensee receives? Nothing else?”

“Exactly,” he said with a grin. “Once they’ve worked out the production details, they can take it to market.”

“Did you get a receipt or any other form of confirmation of the materials you submitted?” Legal asked.

Quicksilver blinked a couple times. “Oh. You’re right. I was supposed to. She was filling it out. It’s just that she was so excited about the submission and kept asking questions. I ended up opening the lab notes to show her details. They got spread all over the counter and must have covered the receipt pad. I guess we just both forgot about it. Does it matter?”

I nodded. “Yes, because there’s no sign of your submission in the office. No record at all of why you were there or that you turned anything in.”

Quicksilver fidgeted in his chair. “What happened to it? I turned everything in. It was all sitting on the counter when I left.”

I shook my head. “That’s one of a number of questions we need to answer.”

“Questions? What other questions are there?”

“There’s the way the clerk died. It was from an overdose of your Painless mixture. The sample vial from your submission was found by the body. It had a reference number on it, which is how they figured out what it was. That’s one more thing that ties this case to you.”

Quicksilver sat forward in his chair. “How much of the mixture was on the clerk?”

Legal answered as he scanned the scene report, “Her neck and back had traces of the powder.”

Quicksilver shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense. The vial only has a sample. In actual use, it would only be enough for a wound about the length of a hoof.” He held up his hoof mindlessly looking at it. “There’s not enough of the mixture for that level of exposure. And the vial only has perhaps five percent of what would be a lethal dose. Not even enough to hurt a foal.”

“So someone brought more with them. The vial was basically a planted clue.” I turned to Quicksilver. “How much do you have at home?”

“I have a sample about twice that size at home. In addition, we have three medical-grade doses in our first aid kit, but they don’t contain much more than what’s in the sample vial.”

“How easy is it to get?” Legal asked.

“It’s prescription only, or limited to hospital and military use. So nopony could easily get a lethal dose.”

“Hmmm...” If it’s hard to get, then it would have to be made. “I assume you can mix as much as you want?” I asked.

“Yes, but it’s a slow process and takes several days to prepare, concentrate, filter, grind into a fine powder, and package. And of course it’s not safe to make large quantities as a spill can be fatal. I’ve never mixed more than small amounts.”

“So they had to prepare or purchase it well in advance. That means planning, premeditation. Who produces it for medical use?”

“It’s licensed to Fancy Pants for manufacturing and distribution.”

“Okay. I’m going to get Citrine,” I nodded at the one-way mirror, “and head to the crime scene.”

Legal added, “I’m going to stay here a while longer. I have some additional things to go over with Quicksilver.”

I stood up and looked at Quicksilver. “Try to relax. There’s something going on here, and we’ll figure it out.” I started to head out the door when I was stopped.

“Steel?” Quicksilver said. I looked over my shoulder at him. “Thank you.” I nodded and left the room, closing the door behind me. Two simple words. Thank you. But they mean something more when said by a pony that you know really means it. A pony I will not let down.
> Chapter 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

A police detective met us as we entered the Bureau of New Product Registration. “Hi, Citrine. How’s retired life?”

“Hey, Shadow. Oh, you know. Lots of sitting on the front porch eating bonbons.” She tossed an invisible snack into her mouth followed by a few fake chews and a swallow.

The stallion snorted. “I can see you doing a lot of things. That’s not one of them.”

“You might be surprised to see how well she’s taken to being retired,” I said with a smile.

The detective glanced at me. “If by taken you mean found something else to do… When I heard she was retiring, I thought no way. Then I heard she was joining a detective agency and it all made sense. You must be the husband?” He reached out his hoof.

I did the same, and we shook. “Yes, Dark Steel. Good to meet you.”

“Same.”

Citrine stepped up next to me. “Steel, this is Shadow Hunter. I worked with him for several years. We were even partners for a while.” She leaned against me for a second. Without words, she confirmed where her feelings lie. Not that I had any doubt, but I appreciated the gesture. A quick flick of his eyes told me the detective noticed too.

“The captain said you are working for the defense attorney and would be dropping by.” His smile faded. “I assume you’ve both read the preliminary reports?”

“Yes,” I answered. “But I can’t get what I need from a written report. I need to actually see the scene.” I tilted my head towards a pony seated in one of the chairs. “Is that the supervisor mentioned in the report, Mr Head Honcho?”

He nodded. “Yes. We sent the clerk home. She was in shock and a total mess.”

The waiting area was too small for him to not hear everything we said, and he stood up as I approached him. “Hi. I know it’s been an awful day for you. Do you think you can stand to answer just a few more questions?”

He raised his head almost as if standing at attention. “Absolutely. What happened here was horrible, and I want to see Raven’s killer, that unicorn, brought to justice.”

“Raven was a clerk here, correct?”

“More than just a clerk. Raven Silverwood was a skilled researcher and probably our best employee. She had years of submissions in her head and could remember details that everypony else had to look up. She was friendly, even with problem customers. She had a wonderful sense of humor, and she always…” His voice cracked as he closed his eyes and lowered his head for a moment. He took a deep breath and looked at me again. “I’m sorry. It’s just that…”

I took a step closer and lowered my voice. “You liked her?”

“Yes, but not like that. My wife and I had her over once or twice a month for dinner. We have no foals of our own, and she has no relatives in Canterlot. It just seemed natural. She’d also spend most holidays with us.” After a pause, he added, “My wife is going to be devastated. But Raven loved this job. I believe she felt more at home here at work than she did when she was at home. She’s going to be missed around here.” He closed his eyes for a moment and took a stuttering breath in.

“I’m sure she will be. And I’m sorry to make you go through this again. But I believe the unicorn the police arrested is not the killer, which means the real killer is still out there.”

His eyes went wide. “But they said it was clear he did it. They said there was proof.”

Sometimes when a suspect is offered up on a silver platter, the police don’t dig deep enough. But this silver has started to tarnish. “There are some… inconsistencies. One is the fact that Quicksilver, that’s the unicorn’s name, said that Raven had filled out a receipt for his submission, but he didn’t get it. Where would I find that receipt pad?”

Mr Hancho walked around behind the counter that bisected the room, as I followed. “There’s not one single receipt pad. We keep a number of them around, and you just grab the closest one if somepony is dropping something off.” He checked the length of the counter. “Well, there should be some around. Perhaps Ivy put them away.”

“You mean the other clerk, Ivy Dawn?” He nodded. “Where would that be?”

He pointed. “In the top drawer at the far end of the counter.”

I walked to the drawer and opened it. Inside were a number of different pads of pre-printed forms, and I noted that a couple were titled ‘Submission Receipt’. I removed the top few pads, setting them on the counter. Then I saw it: a pad with the top sheet filled out. I checked the submitter’s name. Quicksilver. I looked at Hunter who paced around the waiting area. “Detective?” I took out the pad and flipped it around so he could read it from his side of the counter.

“There’s your proof that Quicksilver made a submission last night. The completed form, with Raven’s signature at the bottom. And since you found no such submission, that means somepony removed it from the office. This shows Quicksilver has been telling the truth, and also that someone else was here during or after his visit.”

After he finished reading the receipt, he pulled out an evidence bag and slipped it in. “As soon as we’re done here, I’m going to get this to the precinct.” 

I turned to study the space behind the counter. At the far end were three desks. There was a table with several stools around it at this end where we stood now. The back wall was covered in pony-height bookshelves filled with books and binders with date ranges printed on the spines.

Seeing me take it all in, Mr Hancho offered an explanation. “That wall has submission records for the last couple decades. Older records and all physical submissions are stored in the back room." He pointed to the open door. "It's even larger than this room. We also have an off-site warehouse."

I whistled. "That's a lot of new products."

He snickered. "Despite the name, we record more than just products. Anything a pony wants to officially record comes to this office. Products of course, but also books, music, artwork, and lots of other things. We receive submissions from other offices too. For example, if you submit a new business application, we get a copy to verify that the business name is not already registered for exclusive use by somepony else."

I turned to face him. "What was Raven working on last night?"

"Based on the appointment, she probably would have been looking at prior art for the submission. She really enjoyed doing research in the evening when it was quiet. But since we didn't find a submission anywhere, I don't know."

“At that table?” I gestured towards it.

“Probably.” He stared blankly under the table.

I looked down at the floor. Some chalk markings on the wood provided a rough outline of where Miss Silverwood’s body was discovered. The outline extended under the table.

Few would ever consider lying down where a pony had died. Personally, I didn’t believe in such superstitions. Although, if there was any connection to the deceased there on the floor, I hoped she would share something with me that only she would know. If you have any clues to share, Raven, please, now is the time.

I lay down on the floor, moved myself part way under the table, and then rolled on my side just as she had been. Nothing. Then I looked up.

“Detective? There’s something here.”

He trotted around the counter. “What do you see?”

“It’s a set of numbers, magically burned on the underside of the table. And they look fresh. Write this down. One. Three. Seven. Four. And… I can’t make out the last two digits. I think these were placed here the last seconds before she lost consciousness, and she wasn’t able to get the last two digits inscribed clearly.”

Thank you, Raven. I slid out from under the table and stood up.

“That’s a submission reference number,” the supervisor said. “Based on the first four digits, I’d say it’s from a few months ago. But you’re looking at a hundred possible submissions over probably several months.”

“Please get me those records.” I stepped to the counter. “The second to last digit had a pretty clear vertical line. So I’d say it was one, four, seven, or nine. That could drop us from a hundred to just forty submissions to check.”

The supervisor selected several books off the shelves and set them on the counter. I grabbed the first and hungrily began to check the ten entries starting with 13741. Nothing. I moved on to 13744. Ten more submissions, and nothing. 13747. No, no, no… “Bingo! 137476. A submission for Message Fire, a mixture for sending paper messages long distance.” I looked up at the detective. “That’s exactly what Dragon’s Fire is.”

I flipped the book around so Detective Hunter could read it. “See?” I tapped the form. “Submitted six months ago.”

As he read the form, he noted the submitter’s name. “Kaafe Mane. What is that, Saddle Arabian?”

“It does sound like it, but...” I looked down at the form even though it was upside down now. “It could also be a fake name.”

He tilted his head. “Why would this pony use a fake name?”

“What if this earlier submission isn’t legitimate? I know Quicksilver has been working on his version for several years. What if--”

From across the room Citrine cut me off. “Quicksilver, the report! The burglary at their house seven months ago.”

I stared at her as my mind raced. A burglary to steal one or more profitable mixtures. Stolen bits to hide the true theft. A copied mixture fraudulently submitted a few weeks later.

I pointed at Citrine as I spoke to detective Hunter, “That’s why. This submission may have been stolen from Quicksilver’s house. If you were going to submit a fraudulent claim with an official branch of the Equestrian government…” I paused for him to consider that. “Would you use your real name?”

“I see your point. Still, when I get to the precinct, I’m going to get some resources trying to find this pony, or if that’s not possible, try and confirm the name doesn’t exist.”

I nodded. “Good plan. Please let us know what you discover.”

“Will do.”

I suddenly had another thought. “Hunter, what items does it say were submitted with that registration?”

He studied the form for a bit. “Ahh, here it is. The submission included release notes and a sample.”

So, the minimum needed for a submission, meaning the least he would need to steal and still have enough to submit. But no lab notes means no proof of when the development took place. Quicksilver’s included lab notes, which could potentially prove he had the idea first.

I paused. “And who processed that submission?”

He reviewed the form again. “Here it is. It was Outflank.”

I turned to the supervisor to ask, “That’s the pony who was here with Miss Silverwood last evening?”

“Yes, but the log showed him clocking out at 4:00.” He glanced in the direction of the logbook on the shelf.

I kept my focus on the supervisor. “What can you tell me about him?”

“As much as Raven was one of the best, Outflank is one of the worst. He has multiple infractions for preferential treatment and other offenses. We suspect him of taking bribes, but we haven’t been able to prove it. He’s also having problems at home. I believe I heard his wife was divorcing him.”

Half speaking to myself, I summarized, “So he was here yesterday. He would have known Quicksilver was coming in from the appointment book. Perhaps he didn’t leave when he clocked out. Or perhaps he contacted this Kaafe Mane.”

I turned towards Detective Hunter. “We need to find Outflank, now.”

“We’ve already tried. I sent a couple officers to his house as soon as we discovered he was here yesterday afternoon. So far we can’t find him, and no one has any idea where he might be.”

I snorted in frustration. We have a potential witness, or even an accomplice, and no one can find him. I grabbed the record book from the detective. “I see this Message Fire mixture is also licensed to Fancy Pants.” I looked at the supervisor and tapped at the form. “What’s this bank information here?”

“That’s the account to deposit any royalties or licensing fees submitted through this office. Some ponies like all the funds to go through this office for official record keeping. Some deal with the licensors directly.”

“Can you tell which he used?”

He shook his head. “Sorry, no, I can’t. That’s all handled through a different office. Is it important?”

“Probably not. I think I have what I need for now. Thank you very much.” I started to leave and then changed my mind. Instead I stepped closer to him and lowered my voice. “Raven Silverwood was a special mare. In her final moments, she provided a clue that may well solve her own murder. She was an ingenious and quick-thinking pony.” It was little comfort, but his sad smile told me he still appreciated it.

I walked around the counter towards the door. “Citrine, time to go. We have work to do.”
> Chapter 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I was badly out of my element. I’d been hired a few times by Fancy Pants for some very discreet and private work. He’d always been satisfied, at least based on the bonuses I’d received, but I’d never met the pony, and I’d certainly never been to any of his buildings. Now I was standing outside his Canterlot private office with several ponies looking down their muzzles at me.

When I’d arrived, the receptionist told me that without an appointment I could not see Mr Pants. I repeatedly explained how important it was. Her imitation of a brick wall was as impressive as it was infuriating. Still, if I kept beating on it, eventually one of us would break. Finally, she relented and said I could wait. Once all the other appointments were completed, perhaps Mr Pants would be willing to talk to me. It had been hours.

Finally, a meticulously dressed unicorn mare opened the double doors. “Mr Steel? Mr Pants will see you now.” She stepped aside as I entered, and closed the doors behind me. Then she moved to a small desk against the wall and picked up a pad to take notes.

It was a nice office. I’d seen some nice offices that reeked of a pony too full of himself. This was different. This was a functional office of a pony with wealth and influence, but also with responsibilities. Fancy Pants sat behind a desk probably four times the size of the one I had. As I entered, he jumped to his hooves and moved to meet me in the large open area mid-room. He extended his hoof, and we shook.

“Steel. It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person.” He finally released my leg. “I apologize for never having done so before, but the nature of our previous business just didn’t permit it.”

I waved my hoof back and forth. “Please, no apology necessary. I was just thankful for the opportunities to work for you.”

He furrowed his brow. “I’m sorry for the long delay, but my calendar was full today.”

“And I’m sorry to barge in without an appointment.” I respectfully bowed my head. “Thank you for seeing me.”

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit today?” He turned to head back to his desk.

“I’m hoping you can help me with some information relevant to a case I’m working on right now.” I followed and sat in one of the available chairs.

Once behind the desk, he also sat down. “Ahh, the Quicksilver murder case.”

I froze for a second. “How do you know about that? He was only arrested this morning. It won’t make the papers until tomorrow.” I fidgeted in the chair.

He gave me a broad grin. “In my business, knowledge is more important than even the products I sell. Being the sole supplier of a product nopony wants is pointless. Being one of a dozen suppliers of a product everypony wants is better, but nothing special. Knowing when everypony will want that product so you can be the only supplier able to fill the need without it going out of stock? That’s where bits are made.” He winked at me.

“So yes, it’s in my best interest to keep aware of what’s going on in Equestria. I do have a company and a lot of employees depending on me.” His smile faded. “This situation with Quicksilver is most distressing. I license a couple of his mixtures. A scandal tied to him could impact the products he created. That would be bad for business.” His eyes drifted up. “Plus, I like Quicksilver and Misty. I’ve met them both before to discuss licensing. They are wonderful as a couple, so clearly in love. And as scientists... Well, I wish I could get them on the payroll.” His focus snapped back to me. “If I can help you prove he is not connected to this nasty affair, I’d like to help.”

I blew out a little breath. “That’s reassuring to hear.” I bowed my head slightly. “Thank you. I’m actually here about two products you license. One is the Painless mixture. The other is called Message Fire.”

He turned towards his assistant. “Would you get me those files?”

“Yes, sir.” She trotted out of the room.

“This will just take a moment. Can I offer you something to drink?”

I glanced at a row of bottles on a shelf behind his desk. “Thank you, but no. I need to stay focused on this case.”

He slowly nodded. “You see, that’s why I like you. You retain your focus and priorities.”

The mare trotted back into the office, holding the files in her magic. “Here you are, sir.” She rotated and sat them down directly in front of him, then returned to her post.

He opened the first file. “Painless. Ahh, yes, I remember. It’s not a particularly groundbreaking mixture. But Quicksilver’s version was unique for its fast action and safety. Most medical facilities in Equestria have standardized on it. In addition, the E.U.P. include a couple vials in their personal medkits.” He flipped through a couple more pages. “It’s a reasonably profitable product for us.”

He closed that file and moved on to the other one. “Message Fire. This is not one of Quicksilver’s mixtures. What’s your interest in it?”

I wasn’t comfortable telling him too much about the case just yet. I decided to evade his question. “It may have some connection to the case. I’d rather not say any more as there are still too many unanswered questions.”

“I understand. Still, If we can get it to market, this one product could break all profit records for this company. The potential is nothing short of stunning. We’re deep into research and development on the mixture as the release notes specify. We also have started negotiations with both the Equestrian government as well as some foreign interests.” He looked at me. “This will totally change how important and time-sensitive messages get sent.”

I thought about that for a second and realized it just didn’t make sense. “You say you’re doing research. If the mixture is fully developed, what more do you need to do?”

“Ahh, there’s a difference between a working concept and a commercial product. Yes, Message Fire works, but there’s still a lot to do before it’s ready to sell. We need to be able to create the receiving artifacts, and tune the mixture to match it with a specific receiver. And we need to do it all in such a way that we are the sole provider of the mixture when customers need more.”

I flashed him a grin. “So, a third scenario where you need to be the sole provider of a product everypony wants.”

He smiled. “I see you were paying careful attention earlier, Steel.”

My smile faded. “What can you tell me about the license holder?”

He looked down at the file. “Let’s see. It’s a unicorn by the name of Kaafe Mane. All his paperwork was in order and confirmed by the Bureau of New Product Registration. We’ve made a number of initial payments to an account he specified. The most recent one was just a few days ago.” He pointed at a line in the file which of course I couldn’t see from across the desk. He glanced back up. “It’s a little unusual for payments to not go through the bureau, but that decision is up to the license holder.”

And, I thought, there’s less of a paper trail that way. I leaned forward a bit. “Can you describe him?”

His eyes drifted towards the ceiling. “I only met him once when we negotiated the license. He’s violet in color with an orange mane. He was wearing a coat, so I didn’t see his tail or cutie mark.”

I stood up. “Thank you so much for your time. I apologize for being abrupt, but you have given me some critical information, and I need to get going.”

He also rose, and we shook hooves over the desk. “Think nothing of it. I understand the true value of time. If I can be of any further help, please contact my office again. I will let them know to interrupt me if you say it’s important.”

I nodded to him and turned to exit the office. The assistant was already at the double doors and opened one for me. We exchanged a smile as I walked past.

So, we definitely have another pony at play. A unicorn, probably with some alchemy skills. That’s how he would have been able to mix the Message Fire sample to include with his submission. He also would be able to prepare the lethal dose of the Painless mixture. He probably could produce multiple lethal doses. In fact, he may have already done so.

I broke into a gallop. The value of time he’d said. I hope I have enough of it left.
> Chapter 5
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I’d needed to cover the distance back to the office quickly, so I was rather winded by the time I arrived. I was relieved to see the gang all present and seated around Citrine’s desk. As I walked in, I blew out a breath and wiped my brow. There was an empty chair waiting for me which I fell into with a sigh. “Hi all. My apologies for being blunt, but I need to get caught up, fast. First, Opal, is Misty okay?”

“Yes. I got her to her parents. I stayed with her about an hour before heading back here.”

“And I can update that,” Mr Eagle added. “When Detective Hunter returned from the crime scene, he had additional evidence. There was the receipt for Quicksilver's submission, as well as documentation of the earlier Message Fire submission. He was willing to admit the facts didn’t add up. I applied some pressure, and he agreed to release Quicksilver, with a strong warning not to leave Canterlot. He’s home with Misty.”

“Really? That’s fantastic.” I signed in relief. “Good work, and thank you.” Legal smiled with a single nod.

I turned to face Citrine. “So, what do you have for me? Please have something I can use.”

“As we’d talked about, my first stop was the bank listed on the Message Fire paperwork. The manager wouldn’t provide details. But he did confirm that the account was opened by a violet unicorn. Also, several deposits were made which he would withdraw within a few days. The police had also been by, and the account was frozen with some recently deposited funds still in it.”

Probably the most recent payment Mr Pants had mentioned. If the unicorn discovers the account is frozen, he might figure out we’re on to him. Somehow, I have to get ahead of him. I need to stop trailing along behind him trying to catch up.

She then smiled. “I also spotted a couple plain-clothes cops loitering at the bank. Looks like they have it staked out in case anypony drops by to access that account.”

“Good.” I nodded. “But somehow I doubt it’s going to be that easy.”

Citrine continued, “I also had a quick visit with Outflank’s wife. She’s a nice pony, but is really stressed. It seems her husband has a gambling problem. It devastated their finances and basically destroyed the marriage. That’s why she’s divorcing him. He owes a lot of bits to some bookie. He promises it’ll all be fixed soon, but you know what that means...”

“Yeah, it means it might get better before it gets worse than it’s ever been before. And that assumes he’s not flat-out lying to her.” I paused for a moment. “I hope she can get out before he drags her down any further. Although, I wonder what he means by getting it fixed? Typically that means he’s getting, or thinks he’s getting a bunch of bits somewhere. But where?” I rubbed the back of my neck.

Citrine shook her head. “I have no idea. Other than his job at the bureau, his wife didn’t indicate any other sources of income.” She paused. “You know, she still loves him, her husband. She was crying as she said she just can’t be with him with all this going on. I really felt sorry for her.”

I shook my head. “I can’t imagine what she’s going through. Still, that’s all good info. Anything else?”

“Yeah, I was also able to talk to Cloudy.” She tilted her head. “I’m surprised I still got back before you.”

I sighed. “Getting in to see Fancy Pants, without an appointment, proved to be slow and painful.”

“A busy pony?” she said with a grin.

“And how.” I shifted in my chair. “So, what did you find?”

“You were right. He was a bit more talkative with me. It turns out he had help preparing that lab accident from a classmate of Quicksilver’s, a pony by the name of Astral Rune. He didn’t mention it at the time because he didn’t want to get Astral in trouble. Cloudy only wanted to scare Quicksilver. It was supposed to destroy the experiment, a small explosion that would be fully contained in the fume hood. Cloudy figured he did something wrong, causing it to destroy the lab and almost kill Quicksilver.

“Astral was easy to track down, as he lives here in Canterlot. He said it was just a prank, like a firecracker pop that wouldn't have even broken the beaker Quicksilver was mixing in. He figured Cloudy messed it up. He didn’t come forward because he was afraid he’d get kicked out of school.”

My inner voice nagged me about the discrepancy. “From a firecracker pop, to a small explosion, to destroying the lab. That’s a pretty big inconsistency between what they each said they expected, and what actually happened.”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Someone had to mess up pretty badly to be that far off. Anyway, just to cover the bases, I asked him where he was the night of the murder. He was at a social gathering on the other side of Canterlot. Scores of ponies saw him there.”

I slowly nodded. “So some new information on an old case, but nothing that seems to apply here. You still believe that Cloudy wasn’t involved?”

“Correct.” Citrine shook her head. “I don’t see a motive at this point. He genuinely sounded concerned. And he couldn’t have gotten here from Ponyville anyway.”

“By the way,” I added. “What color is Astral?”

“He’s light blue with a yellow mane and tail. Is it important?”

I shook my head. “No, I don’t think so. I was just checking.”

I sat in silence. My inner voice was mumbling at me again. There was something. I just couldn’t…

“Steel, is something wrong?” Citrine asked.

“What, oh, no, never mind.” I shook my head to refocus. “Anyway, thanks for checking on all that. It was a lot of good work in a short period of time.” I looked at the others. “So, anything else?” 

“Uh, Steel?” I looked over at Opal. “I was typing up the case notes from earlier today, and I think I noticed something.”

“I thought you usually waited before typing that stuff up.”

“I do. But this is an important case, so I thought I should get started. And I had some downtime.” She fidgeted in her chair.

I gestured with my leg. “Go on. What did you see?”

She glanced down at the notes she held. “This pony’s name, Kaafe Mane? I think it’s a fake name.”

I nodded. “I think so too. If there’s submission fraud going on here, it would be pretty stupid to use his real name.”

“No, I mean literally. A. Fake. Name.” She raised her head. “It’s an anagram.”

I stared at her for a moment. “Huh! Well, I don’t think the cops are gonna be finding that pony anywhere. So, you secretly enrolled in a detective correspondence school?”

She giggled. “No, no. I could never do what you guys do. I know my special talent.” She gazed around the office. “I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

“Still, that was a good catch. Thank you.” The barest hint of a blush colored her cheeks. 

I looked around the group. “Okay, it’s late. We’re done for today. Everypony, go home. Citrine, I have one more thing I wanna check. I’ll be home in an hour or two.”
> Chapter 6
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sign declared: Chao Stir-Fry. It was a legitimate restaurant in Canterlot, but it also concealed a secret. That’s who I was here to see. I walked through the dining area and down a narrow hallway towards a back room. Two earth ponies loitered outside the door. They turned to face me as I approached.

I stopped a couple paces away. They were clearly guards, and I didn’t want to put them on edge. “Dark Steel. I’m here to see Mr Long Shot.”

One of the ponies pushed the door ajar and stuck his head in. After some mumbling I couldn’t make out, he opened the door wide and gestured in, indicating I should enter. Going in, I saw the rather overweight earth pony sitting behind a desk. I walked up to it, ignoring the two available chairs.

“Ahh, Mr Steel. I remember you from your years with the Canterlot police. I know a few ponies rotting in prison due to your... interference.” He was frowning, his hooves concealed under the desk.

I knew the two guards were at my five and seven o’clock. And there was a unicorn to my left, watching me with his head slightly lowered. If he decided to cast some offensive spell, I was too far away to do anything about it. A chill ran down my spine as I realized I’d blindly walked into at best an awkward situation, at worst a trap.

Long Shot locked eyes with me for a few more moments before breaking into a big grin. “They were competitors.” He laughed, waving off the guards who left the room.

I blew out a breath. “Cute. You enjoyed that, didn’t you?”

“Immensely. Still, I know you aren’t here for my amusement. Why are you here?”

“It has come to my attention that a pony named Outflank may have a fondness for... certain types of recreation, and may owe a fair pile of bits to a provider of such recreation. I was hoping you might be able to shed some light on this pony.”

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his forelegs over his chest. “I see. Well, of course I run a legitimate business here. Now that your wife is off the force, you two should stop by some time for dinner, on the house of course. And while I won’t admit to knowing this particular pony, I do sometimes hear things, in confidence.”

I lifted a hoof. “And anything I just happen to hear in confidence will remain that same way.”

He nodded. “Then I think we have an understanding. We may have heard that this pony is in pretty deep.”

“Would such a debt cause him to, shall we say, become an example?”

He tilted his head. “Let me answer that with another question. How many bits can one collect from a dead pony?”

I nodded my head.

Long Shot continued, “What’s interesting is that he claims to be working on a deal that will clear his debt and even put him ahead. He’s always got one scheme or another, but this sounds different. Rumor is he has a deal going with some unicorn. I hear Outflank’s made a couple token payments, but he says the real bits will be coming in during the next few months.”

I considered this for a moment. “Do you have any idea where he is now?”

“No. We… I mean, I hear no one has been able to locate him.”

“Yes, he seems to have gone to ground. You...r associates aren’t the only ones unable to find him. The police have also been unsuccessful. I thank you for your time, but I need to get going. I have someone waiting for me.”

“I assume it’s unlikely that his scheme is actually going to pan out?”

“Let’s just say that if he’s found, he may get the opportunity to meet some of your past competition.”

“Very well. If you would ask the guards to step in here on your way out. And don’t forget about that free dinner. It never hurts to keep the lines of communication open, you understand.” He winked at me.

Lines of communication. He’s looking for someone new he can get in his pocket. Of course I’m always looking for new contacts or informants. The type of ponies the police could never connect with. Perhaps there’s a middle ground where we can meet. I might just take him up on that dinner some day.

I tipped my hat and turned to leave. I’d feel a lot better once I got outside, and even more so once I was home with Citrine.
> Chapter 7
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The previous day had been long and stressful. So it was no surprise that Citrine and I arrived at the office building a bit late the next morning. We weren’t alone, as Opal was also just getting there.

“Slackin’ a bit there, aren’t you, Opal?” I teased.

“Not as long as I’m here before the boss.” She smirked as she trotted past us and led the way into the building. “So, what’s the plan for today?” she asked over her shoulder.

“We have two priorities to complete,” I replied. “First, we need to find Outflank. If the police can’t do it, then we need to.” I glanced at Citrine. “They may not be totally incompetent, but they aren’t you.” She smiled back.

Opal cleared her throat as she started up the stairs. “None of that now, you two, we’re on the clock.”

I rolled my eyes. “Office manager my rump, she’s the office tyrant.”

“And who signs your paycheck each month?” Opal shot back.

I’m stallion enough to admit when I’ve been bested. “Yes, Miss Tyrant.”

Citrine cleared her throat. “And second?”

“And second, we need to figure out who this mysterious unicorn is. He’s the key to this whole thing.” I wondered if Outflank was hiding from the bookie, the police, or this unicorn. Or worse, if he’s already dead.

We exited the stairwell on our floor, and I noticed a familiar brown and white skewbald earth pony pacing in front of the office. “Tinker? Is that you?”

He spun around as we walked up. “Oh, Mr Steel. I’m so glad I found you...” His tail swished nervously as his eyes darted between the three of us.

I placed a hoof on his shoulder. “Tinker, why are you here? Is something wrong?”

“I didn’t know what to do.” He shook his head. “They came this morning. They came and arrested Quicksilver again. And Misty too.”

Citrine gasped. I tried to speak, but no words came out. Opal broke the silence. “We should get in the office.” She walked past Tinker, opened the door, and we all went in.

As Opal arranged some chairs for us to sit on, I recovered my voice, “Okay, Tinker, start at the beginning and tell us what happened.”

He took a seat and looked at me. “I don’t usually get to their place so early in the morning, but they’d had a bad day yesterday. So I showed up early to make breakfast and take care of some things. I didn’t want them to have to concern themselves with, well, anything.

“I was in the kitchen cleaning up when I heard somepony at the door. It was the Canterlot police. I couldn’t hear everything, but I heard them say they’d found another clerk from that registration place, murdered the same way as the first one.”

He paused and looked at each of us. “Mr Steel, I was scared. I hid in the kitchen. I was afraid they’d arrest me too.” He looked down at the floor. “I failed them. I’ve defended them before. I should have... I just hid.” He dropped his head and stared at the floor.

Citrine laid a hoof on his shoulder, and I leaned forward to get his attention. “Tinker, you have nothing to feel bad about. Starting a fight would not have helped. You’ve done more to protect them by coming here than you could have by getting arrested for attacking an officer.” I softly poked him in the chest, causing him to look up. “Now, keep protecting them. Tell us what else you heard.”

Tinker took a deep breath and smiled ever so slightly. “I couldn’t hear well. But I heard Quicksilver say, ‘I don’t believe that’. And Misty asked, ‘Why would he do that?’ Then the officer declared that they both were going with him right now. Once they left the house, I moved to the front room so I could peek out the window. They loaded Quicksilver and Misty into an enclosed wagon and took them away. I knew Misty had come here yesterday for help, so…” He exhaled and slumped in his chair.

I was mad. No, I was furious. I flew out of my chair, knocking it back several feet. As I stomped around the office, I muttered to myself. “This makes no sense. Misty isn’t involved in this. And there’s no reason for Quicksilver to kill Outflank. It gains him nothing. I mean, how would he even find him? The police don’t know where he is. Long Shot doesn’t know where he is. I don’t know where he is. The only possible pony who might know…” I stopped mid-stride.

I spun around to face the three ponies. “Tinker, you still have your apartment, right?” He nodded. “Good, go there and wait. You did good. Opal, as soon as Legal gets in, tell him what happened. He’ll need to go down to the precinct.” I looked at my wife. “Citrine, you’re with me.”

“Where are we going?” she asked as she stood up.

“I’m going to go buck some sense into that detective Hunter and find out what the hay is going on here. You’re there to make sure I don’t actually buck him through a window.”
> Chapter 8
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I blasted through the double doors to the squad room and made a direct line for Detective Shadow Hunter. Citrine trailed behind at a trot, trying to keep up. Shadow happened to glance up and saw me coming. It dawned on him that I was not a happy pony. He pushed his chair back and stood up as I got to his desk. I slammed a hoof down, causing him to take a step backward.

“What the buck are you doing re-arresting Quicksilver? And Misty too?”

He lifted a leg. “Listen, Steel. We found Outflank dead in a seedy downtown hotel. He was covered in the Painless mixture. We figured that--”

I leaned forward over the desk. “Figured what? Quicksilver had no reason to kill Raven Silverwood, the first clerk. So you figured he must have killed Outflank, the second clerk?”

He shook his head. “No, that’s not what I’m saying--”

I slammed my hoof down on the desk again. A picture frame fell over. “Quicksilver didn’t do this. Did you consider finding and arresting the actual murderer? I realize that would take actual police work. You know, like an actual detective is actually supposed to do?

The detective raised both legs. “Steel, if you’d just listen--”

I was yelling now. “Listen to some lame excuse for arresting the wrong pony, again? And his wife too?” 

“Mr Steel!” I turned to see the captain standing in his office doorway, listening. “Would you please come in here for a moment? Detective...”

I looked at the detective and snorted. As I entered the office, the captain was already seated behind his desk. “Steel, Citrine, please take a chair. Detective, close the door.” After shutting the door, Hunter moved to the side of the captain’s desk.

I realized I was so infuriated that I was shaking. I took a couple slow, deep breaths and sat down next to Citrine. The captain and the detective were staring at me. Something was wrong. Had I missed something? What’s going on?

“Mr Steel. You have a solid reputation as a detective, both from your time on the force as well as privately with your agency. It is therefore surprising that you are acting like a complete buffoon.” He paused to allow the impact of his words to sink in.

My head was spinning. I glanced at Citrine and back to the captain. “I… I don’t understand. I have a witness that said Hunter arrested Quicksilver and Misty from their home this morning.”

The captain nodded. “Picked up, yes. Arrested, no.”

“Not arrested? But then why did you pick them up? If Outflank was murdered, and you didn’t arrest Quicksilver, then you don’t think he did it. But then why… Unless… Wait. You already know Quicksilver didn’t kill Outflank. That’s not the issue. You think that Quicksilver might be next!”

The captain smiled. “Ahh, yes, there’s the detective I was expecting. Hunter here came to that conclusion almost as soon as we found Outflank dead. He decided that Quicksilver was at risk. So he suggested we get him and Misty somewhere safe until we figure this out.”

I glanced at Hunter who gave me a single nod of confirmation. I buried my face in my hooves. “Oh, scat. Hunter, I’m so sorry.” I looked up. “I was told you’d arrested them. I was so enraged that I didn’t think it through. And the way I yelled out there…”

You idiot. You made one of the biggest mistakes you can make, you let your personal feelings for a client cloud your judgment. Fortunately, the only damage is to my pride and perhaps the cost of an apology lunch with the detective.

The detective raised a hoof. “It’s okay. I know how invested you are in these two ponies. And for just a moment that overly influenced your thinking. But you’re back now, right?”

I sat up straight in my chair. “Absolutely.” I looked at the captain. “Where are they now?”

“We delivered Misty to her parents’ house, cautioning her to remain there. We took Quicksilver to a more secure location.”

“Why didn't you keep them together?”

“Partially protocol, as Quicksilver is the one at risk. But also because it’s just a bunch of stallions sitting around in what is clearly not the best Canterlot has to offer. She'll be more comfortable with her parents.”

“Honestly, she’d be more comfortable with her husband. They are not pampered ponies. They are well accustomed to less than ideal accommodations. They should be together. Perhaps you could pick someplace a bit nicer.”

He raised a hoof to his chin. “I see. I’ll consider that.”

“So what’s next?” I asked.

Leaning forward, he rested his legs on the desk. “We have a killer to find. You wouldn’t happen to know who it is, or where to find them, would you?”

Do I know? I’ve been juggling clues for over a day now. Dismissing some, hanging on tightly to others. My inner voice has alternated between total silence and screaming at me. The puzzle pieces have started to fit together, and I could almost make out the picture.

“You know…” I said with a grin. “I have a theory about who, and I’m pretty sure I know where they’ll be tonight. If you’re interested…”
> Chapter 9
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was dark in the front room of Quicksilver and Misty's house. I’d rearranged the furniture to give me a tactical advantage and sat in a chair opposite the front door. Years of conditioning from stakeouts meant I could sit here all night without falling asleep. I realized it wouldn't be that long when I heard a soft creak from the front porch. The hair on my neck rose as a faint magic glow silently opened the front door. I could feel the pony step into the room. Their hooves made a soft tapping sound as they walked forward, closing the door behind them. The hooves went silent, meaning they were on the throw rug I’d placed a short distance from the door. I knew exactly where they were standing.

I flicked on the light next to me. The shade was set to keep me in shadow but shine in the intruder’s eyes. The stallion startled and took a step backward.

With a hoof raised to shade his eyes, he asked, “Who are you?”

“Steel… Dark Steel.”

“You!” he growled. “You’re that private investigator one of the papers mentioned.”

I dipped my head in acknowledgment. “Glad to have been of service. Based on your color, I assume you are Kaafe Mane?”

He grinned smugly. “Yes, I am.”

“And I assume under that fake color and anagram you are actually Astral Rune.” His smile fell away. “It wasn’t hard. Our office… secretary figured out the name. Pretty weak for an alias. There were inconsistencies in the story about the school explosion. And the effort to frame Quicksilver meant it was personal.” I shifted in my chair and tipped my hat back just a touch.

“While easier than a full color change, that red-shift spell must be kind of tiring. If that’s causing you any strain, please, feel free to drop it now.”

He lowered his hoof being accustomed to the light and dropped the color spell. As the red hue faded, the violet and orange of Kaafe reverted to the light blue and yellow of Astral.

“And my final proof was you answering to the name and your original colors.” I let out a single snort. I felt like I was confronting a school foal. He wasn’t very good at this. “So, what have you got against Quicksilver?” I kept my tone low and even.

“That fraud? We were the only two alchemy majors in school. He thought he was so smart. But he was just lucky. The few times I’d get a better grade on something, he’d always come up with his ingratiating grin and congratulated me. But I knew what he really thought.”

“Then he graduates and starts coming up with ideas before I have time to. Still trying to beat me. And have you seen his wife? How does a self-absorbed lab-nerd get a filly like that? He always got the lucky breaks instead of me.”

“Perhaps he just worked harder,” I offered. It was like he didn’t even hear me.

“So I broke into this house and stole his Dragon’s Fire formula. It would've been mine anyway, if I just had a little more time. Quicksilver always obsessed about everything being just right, so I figured I had at least a year till he got off his flank and submitted it. A few months of sales would have given me plenty of bits to start over someplace new. Someplace free from Quicksilver’s shadow. But no. After only six months, before it even started selling, he decides to submit his formula and ruin the plan. Again, always trying to one-up me.” 

“So you decided to do something about it?” I leaned forward in the chair.

“Of course I did. I almost solved the problem back in school. That air-head pegasus even got the mixture correct. But Quicksilver’s luck saved him again. And now? I couldn’t have him stealing my formula.” He took a couple steps back towards the door.

I stood up and moved forward. “Do you expect me to let you just walk out of here?”

“No, Mr Steel, I expect you to die.”

There was a flash of magic over me and a small explosion. I was surrounded by a cloud that settled on me. “The Painless mixture!” I gasped. My rear legs folded, dropping my rump to the floor. My front legs followed, putting me all the way down with my legs under me. I looked up at the unicorn. “All this over a little foalish jealousy? What is killing me going to accomplish?

“I’m cleaning up,” he said with a malicious grin. “You won’t be telling anypony what you know about me.”

After a pause, he continued, “That clerk, Outflank, alerted me that Quicksilver was coming in to submit his Dragon’s Fire mixture. He stayed in the office after signing out and let me in before he left work. I was there to watch everything.”

My head sagged towards the floor.

“I had the perfect plan. I killed the clerk with Quicksilver's own Painless mixture, removed any trace of his Dragon’s Fire submission, and pinned the whole thing on him. It was foolproof. The cops were clueless… And then, suddenly, he was released. No doubt due to your interference.” He glared at me for several seconds.

“Then Outflank started talking about needing more money. Some gambling debt. He hinted that the cops might be interested in an anonymous tip. So he was next.”

My eyelids drooped, and I could no longer see his face.

“Today’s paper said Quicksilver had been arrested and then released. If the cops weren’t going to deal with him, I’d have to. But no, his stupid luck struck again. You...” He took a deep breath and calmed himself. “It’s actually okay. You’re the reason my plan failed. You’re the cause of this whole mess. I’ll enjoy watching you die.”

“Then... then what will you... do?” I struggled to get out.

“I’ve got enough bits hidden away to go somewhere, open a little alchemy shop, and start over. I won’t be rich, but I can spend the rest of my days in comfort. And away from Quicksilver and his luck. I understand Saddle Arabia is a nice place to disappear.”

I raised my head and looked at him. His eyes went wide. “You just made one mistake tonight.” With my legs folded under me, I sprang to my hooves.

His mouth dropped open as he sputtered out, “How…”

I smiled. “You monologued.” I pitched forward on my front legs and spun around. I then let fly a two-hoofed buck that would do any earth pony proud. I heard several ribs crack as I hit him square in the chest. He flew back against the wall. One of his hooves hit the adjacent window, breaking it. I winced as the glass tinkled to the floor. That’s coming out of my fee for the case. He landed in a heap on the floor.

I walked over. He wasn’t moving. I wondered if I’d bucked him too hard, until I heard him drag in a shallow breath and then another. I briefly considered if I hadn’t bucked him hard enough. Things might have been simpler if…

The front door flew open as Citrine and two police ponies burst in.

“Steel…” she gasped. “You’re covered in… we need to get you to the hospital, right now.”

I raised a hoof. “It’s okay. I’m protected from it. You don’t need to worry.” I turned towards the darkened kitchen as the captain stepped out. “Did you get all that?”

“Every word. He confessed to two murders, one attempted murder, and one conspiracy to commit murder. Plus two instances of theft, and a number of other charges that apply. He talked about going away to spend the rest of his days? I don’t know how comfortable he’ll be, but we’ll sure take care of the rest of his days.” He addressed the two officers, “Restrain him, get the cart, and get him into a cell at the precinct.

“So, tell me, Steel, did you really know he was going to be here tonight?”

“I’d say a solid ninety percent. I believe he was getting his information from the paper. Today’s paper told of Quicksilver’s arrest and release yesterday. If the papers found out about you picking up the couple this morning, it wouldn't show up until tomorrow. If Astral wanted revenge before leaving town, tonight was the night.”

Citrine stomped a hoof. “Steel. How are you okay?” She took a couple steps towards me.

I stepped back. “You should probably keep your distance. You don’t want to get any of this powder on you. A little bit wouldn’t be lethal, but you’d go pretty numb.”

I sat down and gestured for her to do the same. “Given what I suspected, I went to see Fancy Pants again today. He introduced me to one of his lead scientists. The scientist had two ways to give me some protection from the Painless mixture.

“First was like an antidote to block the effects of the stuff. He used a bunch more big sciency words to describe how it worked. What I got was: eat pills, don’t die.

“Second, he told me that anything that prevented or limited contact with the skin would help. That could be dirt, mud, grease, oil, even enough water. So I picked up a couple containers of mane and tail hot oil conditioner to coat my entire body. For the next week or so, my hair is going to look… fabulous.” I flicked my head, throwing my mane out to the side where it gracefully spread out before falling to my neck.

The two officers failed miserably at trying to stifle a snicker. Citrine lowered her head and glared at me with a clear ‘are you serious’ expression. My lips twitched involuntarily as I tried to suppress a grin.

The captain addressed one of the additional officers who had entered the house. “Sergeant, arrange covered transportation to get Steel to the hospital. Oh, and dispatch someone to let them know what’s coming so they can prepare.”
> Chapter 10
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

They told me it was morning, but I couldn’t be sure. It took way too long to get the wagon to haul me to the hospital. They then spent at least half an hour washing me down. A bit overly aggressive with the curry comb though. "Gotta get down to the skin," they said. Felt more like down to the muscle. It was a couple more hours before they finally declared that I was out of danger. I knew that when we got there, all I needed was a quick shower.

Then we moved to the precinct. The rest of the night was spent recounting the evening’s events and doing paperwork. To say I was beat was to call the Neighagra River a cute stream. Coffee helped. Or at least I pretended it did. 

Detective Hunter trudged up to the desk I was stuck at, and plopped down. "Wow, Hunter, you look like I feel." I wiped across my eyes with a leg.

After an extended blink, he replied, "I could say the same about you. It’s been a really long twenty-four hours."

I leaned forward and crossed my legs on the desk. "And a long day yesterday too. Once I get home, I may just sleep straight through until tomorrow. So, all done with Astral?"

He gave a tired nod. "Yup. We needed to get everything documented and a signed confession before he had a chance to start changing his story. They can weave big lies if given some time to think. A couple things came up that I thought you might be interested in."

"Do tell." I rested my head on my crossed legs.

"First, the break-in at Quicksilver's house some months ago? Turns out they were on one of their extended research trips. As long as Astral avoided Tinker Cob's daily visits to tend to the greenhouse, he had multiple days to go through all of Quicksilver's files. He picked out a couple formulas that looked particularly profitable and copied everything he needed. He then went through the rest of the house, messing things up so it would look like a simple break-in. The stolen bits were part of that."

"Why did he come back last night? Why didn’t he just skip town?"

"He was planning to leave, but first wanted to steal a few more formulas for mixtures he'd be able to sell wherever he ended up. He was also hoping to find Quicksilver there."

"To kill him?"

He nodded. "Yes. To complete his plan for revenge."

"I hate to think what would have happened if Misty had also been there."

He looked down. "He'd thought of that too. He was planning a staged murder-slash-suicide. One final way to discredit Quicksilver."

I gasped. "Really? Wow. From his jealous rant last night, I knew he was one pony short of a full stable. But this..." I stared out a window at the little slice of Canterlot I could see. All those happy ponies living their innocent lives, oblivious to the darkness that sometimes walks among them.

"Hey, Steel?"

I was still lost in my thoughts. "Hmm?"

"Steel!"

I turned to look at him. "Yeah? What?"

"I wanted to thank you. You were at the crime scene less than an hour and basically broke the case. And all the other clues you'd figured out by yesterday morning in the captain's office..." He paused. "I believe we'd have figured out Quicksilver's innocence... eventually. But by the time we did, Kaafe would have been long gone, fled the city. And I don't know if we'd have ever made the connection to Astral. Anyway, thank you."

"You're welcome. I’d promised myself I would not let those two ponies down. I did what I had to so I could keep that promise.”

The detective smiled. “I’m not sure how you did it so fast. But you kept that promise.”

I sat up straight. “I still owe you an apology lunch at some point."

"Perhaps…” He paused. “Maybe... we could just make it a regular lunch, between friends?"

"Ya know, I'd like that." I extended a hoof, which he bumped. “Still my treat though.”

I noticed Citrine enter the room with Misty on her heels. They made a beeline over to me.

“Here she is, as the captain requested,” Citrine said as they trotted up.

“Steel, what’s going on? Citrine told me they’d arrested somepony and that it was over. Can I have my husband back?” She was frazzled and unable to stand still. I doubt she’d slept much either.

I laid a hoof on her shoulder. “Yes, Misty, it’s over. They brought Quicksilver back a couple hours ago to go over some things. Mr Eagle was notified, and he’s been with Quicksilver the whole time. Please be patient just a bit more. The captain had you fetched because they should be done any minute now.”

As if by command, a door opened and Legal stepped through, followed by a very tired-looking Quicksilver. 

“Quicksilver!” Misty yelled and blew past me. His head snapped up, and all the fatigue seemed to melt away. They slammed together in an embrace. I’ve never seen two ponies cling to each other with such ferocity. Misty’s shoulders shook as she softly sobbed. Quicksilver had his eyes closed, his face buried in her mane. And there they stood, with no signs that they would ever let go. I couldn’t blame them.

Like me, Citrine has seen things during her twenty years on the force. You had to be a bit detached, even cold, in order to survive the job. It was a defense mechanism. But a glance at my wife caught her wiping a tear from her eye. 

She looked over at me. “You know, you did this.”

I shook my head. “Not by myself. I had a whole team working with me.”

“We just took care of details, freeing you up to focus on the problem. You are the one who solved this. You are the one that brought those two back together.”

I put a leg around her and drew her close to me. I did feel pretty good about what we’d accomplished together, and in such a short time.

Quicksilver and Misty finally released their desperate hug. They stood staring into each other's eyes for a few moments, then turned and walked over to us.

“Mr Stee…” Quicksilver’s voice cracked, and he closed his eyes briefly. After he cleared his throat, he tried again, “Steel. Thank you. I don’t know how to express--”

I help up a hoof. “I understand. That hug we just witnessed fully expressed anything you might try to say. You’re welcome.” He smiled and nodded.

With a voice still soft with emotions, Misty asked, “So, what now?”

Legal responded, “You two are free to go. The police may have some follow-up questions in a few days, but basically, this case is closed.” He consulted some papers he held. “I understand that the unicorn has signed a written confession to go with the verbal confession last night at the house. As such, there’s no need for a trial, the case will go directly to sentencing. So you won’t be needed as a witness.”

“So it’s really over?” Quicksilver asked, pulling Misty closer to him.

“Yes, Quicksilver,” I said, “it’s really over.”

As we all walked out of the precinct together, I idly mentioned, “One thing I still haven’t figured out. How did Astral get from his party to the office without being missed? The time at the office plus the travel time both ways would have been too much to go unnoticed.”

Quicksilver looked at me. “Not all unicorns can teleport, and of those that can, very few can do long distances. Astral was in the long-distance teleport class in school with me. I was okay at it. He was amazing. The professor said Astral was the best at non-line-of-sight teleportation he’d ever seen.”
> Epilogue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day found Citrine and I back at Fancy Pants’ office. She remained by the door as I crossed the room. Mr Pants jumped from his chair as I walked over to his desk.

“My dear Mr Steel.” He shook my hoof vigorously for several seconds. “Congratulations on solving the case. I hear the perpetrator is in custody and Quicksilver has been released.”

I nodded. “Yes, all true. And thank you.”

“I read the article in this morning’s paper. I have to say I was a little disappointed that the police took all the credit for solving the case. Their only mention of you was that they received some investigative assistance from Discrete Discovery Private Investigators. They didn’t even mention your name. I don’t think that’s appropriate.”

“I requested it.”

His head jerked back. “What? Why?”

“Well, in my line of work, it’s actually better to not have everypony recognize you.” I reached up and tilted my fedora forward just a bit to obscure part of my face as I smiled.

“Ah, I see. That makes sense. Still, being named as the pony who solved such a case would also have been great advertising for your business.”

“It’s okay. Just having the business name mentioned gave us visibility. It’s generated a lot more inquiries than we are able to take on as new clients.”

“As long as business is growing. So, to what do I owe the honor of your visit today?”

I tapped the floor with a hoof. “First, I wanted to thank you again for your help yesterday. That quite literally saved my life.”

He waved a hoof. “Pssh, think nothing of it. It was a tiny investment towards solving the case and restoring Quicksilver’s credibility.”

I tapped the floor again. “Second, the other day you talked about how important knowledge is to you. I may have some knowledge you have yet to acquire by your own methods.”

His eyebrows went up. “I am intrigued. Please, go on.”

“Well, you know the guilty pony was caught, and that his name is Astral Rune.” He nodded. “There’s some additional information that hasn’t been released yet. Something that affects you. You see, Astral had a pseudonym he used for some of his illegal activity… Kaafe Mane.”

His eyes went wide as he whispered, “Message Fire.”

I nodded. “Yes. I’m afraid that mixture was fraudulently filed. You will be visited later today or tomorrow and given an injunction to cease all development and sales of the Message Fire mixture as the license is invalid.”

He slumped into his chair as small beads of sweat started to form on his forehead. “Oh, this is bad. We have wagons of bits invested in development. And the contract negotiations…” I could hear the grinding of the gears in his head as he calculated the losses piling up.

“I may have a solution to your problem… if you’re interested.”

His head snapped up. “Interested? Are you kidding? I’ll take anything I can get.”

“It just so happens that I know the inventor of the original mixture: Dragon’s Fire. I also know he has yet to make any licensing deals on what is clearly an extremely valuable mixture. I suspect that if somepony were to move fast enough, with a sufficiently generous offer, they just might be able to secure exclusive rights.”

I turned and nodded to Citrine who opened the door. Quicksilver and Misty confidently entered the office and walked forward. Fancy immediately put on his best salesman smile and stepped over to greet the couple. “Quicksilver, Misty, so wonderful to see you both again.”

I walked around them and headed for the door. As I went past, I caught Quicksilver’s eye, and we both nodded once. Yes, he’s going to be just fine.

Citrine and I left the office and strolled down the hallway.

“That was a nice thing you did for Quicksilver and Misty back there.”

“He’s too invested to lose that license. He’ll do right by them.”

After a few moments, she looked at me with a sly grin. “By the way, your mane today looks totally... fabulous. What’s your secret?”