Colt P.I.
By Ashwolfe and Danthefish
Chapter 1 - One long day
The sun rose early in the morning and bathed Manehatten in a glow that banished the darkness of the previous night, and cast long shadows of Manehatten's many skyscrapers along the street. The early risers were heading to work although the bulk of the city would be quiet until later in the morning. For the police, that was a godsend, as the real criminals never tried anything at this hour due to the brightness and that everypony was at home. This meant that most officers could rest, normally. However, this day was proving not to be a normal day at all.
In the bright light of the early morning, the police presence on Manehatten Main Street outside the Glass Bangle was immediately obvious. Several officers milled around, drinking coffee and generally being useless. It was important to keep the crime scene clear of civilians, but to Officer Sierra Corda, a Unicorn in the Manehatten Police Department (almost always referred to as the MCPD by officers and civvies alike), a single pony could have done the job of deterring the few early morning risers who stumbled onto the crime scene. To be honest, she thought, the yellow crime scene tape alone would deter all but the most determined of Manehatten’s civilians, out of simple recognisability. Everypony in Manehatten knew of the crime wave that had begun plaguing their fine city only a few short months ago; robbery mostly, but with one or two assaults, which was nothing new in Manehatten. However, it wasn’t the crimes themselves that were getting to the population, rather the nature in which they had been conducted. Everypony had become convinced that a certain string of robberies were linked. Why they thought this was a mystery to her, as she chose to ignore the rumours that buzzed around the police station, but she knew it was something to do with how informed the criminals were. She shook her head and expelled the thoughts from her mind. Contemplating the deeper meanings of crime in Equestria wouldn’t get her inside the station with a hot cup of strong coffee laden with sugar, and she had a civilian approaching to shoo off.
Without even turning around, she launched into her rehearsed, protocol speech used to get rid of the curious members of the population, in a voice that didn’t leave her feelings about the necessity of her presence at the scene particularly well hidden.
“This is an MCPD crime scene, I’m goin’ to have to ask you to leave and continue on your way.”
She knew she was being rude, but being dragged out of bed at 5 AM, just to be pushed to some routine break in had put her in a bad mood.
“Ain’t that a shame honey, because I was hoping we could have a chat, maybe share some details.”
Corda almost spat out her coffee. It wasn’t the words that surprised her. Being a young, white coated unicorn in a uniform with a sleek black mane that effortlessly looped around her neck seemed to magnetise her to all males, whether in the MCPD or just a passing civilian. She generally enjoyed the tête-à-tête with random people, but she smiled happily for an entirely different reason as she turned around. She instantly recognised the pony as she turned around from his voice alone. She looked up at a tall, sleek stallion ,who was obviously young, though his height added a couple of years to his age appearance. A mane and tail that looked deliberately scruffy had been set in an old school fashion sense native to Manehatten’s unique scene of upscale ponies. The dark brown hair that made up his mane was slightly matted with sweat, beneath a black suede fedora with a black cotton band around it. Sweat also dampened his tan coat that, despite the obvious excursion of his journey here, was still combed neatly. A black cotton saddlebag that matched his fedora was fastened tightly around his back with a small brass buckle. His striking yet soft aqua blue eyes seemed to radiate happiness upon the world. Even if his mouth was turned downwards in a frown, his eyes would betray him and send all but the most miserable ponies into a happy grin. Of course, he was rarely seen without his trademark smile; head cocked to the side, hat at a wonky angle and ears pointing upwards. He was facing her at a slight angle, allowing her to glance at the cutie mark on his flank that had near enough secured him a job in the force; a magnifying glass. It was well deserved, and he was the best damn detective in the whole city (not that there was a whole lot of competition), but she was still admittedly jealous that he had barely served a month on the streets before being promoted to detective, and she was still stuck with the dead-end patrol job.
“Spyglass. Been a while since a while since I seen you around here.” She said, sarcastically.
“Been keeping busy with my new promotion.” He said, obviously taking a cheeky jab at her envy.
She half-smiled,
“You haven’t changed a bit, you know that?” He waved his hoof dismissively, knowing the importance of the case even if he was enjoying the conversation.
“Do you know what the situation in there?” He asked seriously, his face dropping into a straight, calm look that made him appear to be what he was: a professional.
“Aw, somebody in a no fun mood today? Alright, follow me, we’ll walk and talk.” She said as set off walking, gesturing for him to follow followed.
“What was the point of entry?” Spyglass asked. The only response he got for a second was a nod towards the large, shattered window.
“You’d need some real force to buck through that window. I’m guessing it’s at least an inch thick. Good glass too. Real strong.” Corda observerd. Spyglass nodded, keeping his thoughts to himself as they continued. Opening the door and stepping inside, feeling slightly stupid that despite the huge opening in the shop’s front, he was using the door. He turned to face Corda.
“Thanks. You stay out there, and help the boys keep the civvies off my back.” As Corda turned to leave, he added “Oh and Sierra, good to see you again.”
She turned and smiled, pleased that he had remembered her name.
“Thanks Spy. You too, and good luck.” With that she trotted off back the tape, where she had deposited her coffee on the sidewalk.
Spyglass took a glance around the room, taking in the sight. It was certainly unusual. Besides the glass scattered across the floor, and a decimated cabinet against the back wall, the shop was surprisingly unscathed. The interior itself was decorated with old fashioned furniture. Several large wooden tables with elaborate carvings on the legs were host to the wares the shop offered. Spy tried not to look, but the dazzling array of jewellery distracted even him, much of it worth more than his monthly salary if the price tags were anything to go by. A disgruntled throat clearing cough from behind a small decorative table that had been repurposed as a counter brought his attention back to the case.
Walking purposefully over to the counter and putting on his best reassuring smile, he launched into a conversation he had already run through his head several times over. Before he had the chance to begin his questioning, the shopkeeper began speaking.
“About time, you got here. I dare say I have been waiting all day.” said the shopkeeper in a cultured accent, his croaking voice giving away his old age. Glancing down at the little pony, Spyglass immediately summed him up. The pony had a clean emerald green coat, expertly combed backwards, and wore his sapphire blue mane in a split, elegant style. Spyglass was almost surprised to see that the pony, who obviously considered himself some sort of old fashioned gentlecolt, was not wearing a monocle.
“Don’t thank me for trying all at once.” Spyglass muttered under his breath, before moving back to his serious tone. “So what happened here?”
“I thought YOU were supposed to be the investigator here, sir.” Said the elderly colt, emphasising the ‘sir’ to show that he considered the MCPD to be primitive idiots who couldn’t do their job.
“Well, I’m investigating starting with you, sir.” Spyglass said, also emphasising the sir to show that he considered the old colt a snob, and he couldn’t care less about his opinions.
If the old colt picked up on the subtle insult, he showed no sign of it, and proceeded to answer the original question that Spyglass had asked him.
“Well, as you can see somebody broke in, and didn’t touch anything except for this old lockbox. Not the cash register, not any of my finest pieces. Not even the cheap things I keep in the window. Of course, the 'cheap things' were still very expensive.”
Spyglass was clearly confused by the antics of the criminal, and he had to admit, it certainly was starting to sound like the few other cases he had worked on; with nothing touched bar one item.
“What was in the lockbox?” He asked, guessing it was something very valuable.
“My most precious possession: a fire ruby that has been in my family for generations.”
“Did you lock the box?” Spyglass asked, obviously offending the intelligence of the old colt.
“Of course I locked it! It had the strongest damn lock money can buy!” He said, angrily. “It didn’t even matter. They destroyed the box as though it was paper. It was 2 inches thick. 2 inches!”
“So this character was very strong then? Could anypony know about it?” Spyglass asked, changing the subject quickly before the old colt could continue his rant.
“As a matter of fact, a gentlecolt the other day was asking about it. A unicorn he was, yellow if I remember correctly, with an aqua mane. Like your eyes, I dare say. Awfully mismatched, the poor fellow.”
“And did he look particularly strong?”
“Actually no, and while it’s not my place to talk about others, he looked rather… well, weak.”
“Did you catch a name? Maybe any interesting features?”
“No, not my place to ask. Blast it, I can’t even remember what he looked like besides his colour and his physique. The only reason I remember him is because he asked for something expensive, so I told him about the ruby, but he turned his nose up at it! The fool had no taste, if you ask me.”
“Is that all you have for me?”
“I’m afraid so officer. I do hope you recover my precious gem, although I understand that the force has run into, ah, difficulties lately.” The colt was clearly referring to the crime wave, and while the words stung Spyglass, professionalism led him to ignore it. He left the shop wordlessly, and caught the attention of Corda, who trotted over to him.
“What happened in there?” Corda asked.
“Nothing unexpected.”
“It’s the end of my shift, shall we walk back to the station?”
“Sure. I’ll tell you about my meeting on the way back.” With that they turned towards the station and began trotting back.
Arriving in front of the grand central Manehatten Police station, they walked up some steps into the large arched entrance. Turing to face the door to the squad room, Corda explained that she was off duty and was going home, and bid Spyglass goodbye. Walking past a large reception desk, and stepping into an elevator, he hit the button for floor 4, the top floor of the building, which was unusually short by Manehatten standards. The doors opened at floor 2 to admit a young uniformed officer who was carrying a box of files on his back. Stepping aside to allow the officer access, Spyglass couldn’t help but notice that the officer was brand new, which was unsurprising considering the recent recruitment rates following the rise in crime in the city. Offering him a friendly nod, which was returned, Spyglass removed his hat and wiped his brow. The officer was being unnervingly quiet, though considering Spyglass’ rank and the apparent newness of the officer, that wasn’t too surprising. Trying to break the awkwardness of the situation, Spyglass decided to initiate conversation with the officer.
“So, this your first day kid?” Spyglass asked, to which the young officer smiled and nodded, although he didn’t even open his mouth. Slightly irritated, Spyglass cleared his throat in an attempt to get the officer to speak. The officer ignored him again, staring straight at the elevator doors. Persistent as ever, Spyglass jabbed a hoof into the young officer’s side, making him jump, and almost spill his files onto the floor.
“No, Detective, I’ve been here a week.” He said in a respectful but seething voice, before the elevator doors opened at floor 4 and they both stepped out. Walking in the opposite direction to the new officer, Spyglass overheard him muttering under his breath. He chuckled to himself, although he knew he could probably do with making more friends, and fewer enemies. Trotting over to his desk, he couldn’t help but notice he was getting a bunch of stares from around the room. He wasn’t quite sure why, unless they had overheard his scene with the young officer, which he highly doubted. Trying to ignore them, he arrived at his desk inside a small cardboard cubicle, pulled out his wooden chair and sat, removing his saddle bag and placing it on the floor. Not sure what to do, he decided to look busy and pulled some papers out of his bag, arranging them in no particular order onto his desk. Once well-polished and shiny, the desk was scratched, dull and rough, but still served its purpose admirably. Reading through the notes –a couple of witness statements, case notes and an incident report- he was interrupted by a ringing from the phone on his desk. Picking it up between his hooves, he greeted the caller cautiously.
“Hello, MCPD Detective Spyglass.”
“Spyglass, it’s me. Get into my office, pronto.” Answered the gruff voice of the Detective’s sergeant, a tough colt from downtown Bucklyn named Donut Sprinkles.
Groaning about the disturbance of his routine, Spyglass stood up, and walked over to Donut’s office. Knocking on the sergeant’s door, he got a gruff ‘come in’, and pushed it open with his right fore hoof. Stepping into the simply furnished office, with its wooden walls and floor, Spyglass felt slightly anxious, and removed his fedora. The room almost seemed to judge him, although he ignored his apprehension and walked over to Donut’s desk. Leaning on the back of one of the two simple chairs on his side of the desk, Spyglass waited for Donut to look up from his notes. Glancing briefly upwards, Donut gestured for Spyglass to sit down. Doing so, Spyglass looked up at Donut, while placing his hat on the desk in front of him. A dull, tired yellow in colour, with a greying orange mane that was thinning quickly, the Sergeant had blue eyes that had once been energetic and enthusiastic, but were now tired and longing for retirement. Sat at an angle that showed his cutie mark to Spyglass, Spyglass could see that he had a half-eaten donut and a mug of coffee on his flank. Despite his gruff demeanour, the sergeant was in truth a respectable and hard-working member of the force, who had spent 30 years working his way up through the ranks until he became a detective sergeant. He somewhat represented the dying caste of the older detectives, who were gradually being replaced by younger recruits. Despite his apparent fierceness towards the dramatic changes to the force, he had a strong respect for the younger officers, particularly Spyglass, due to the speed at which Spyglass had risen up through the force. After sitting in silence for a minute, Donut finally looked up from his papers at Spyglass.
“Do you why I called you in here?” Donut asked.
“To give me my inevitable promotion?” Spyglass smiled cockily, before straightening his face. “Although I assume it is to do with my case. Listen, I’ve been making good progress and I got 5 ponies I can link with the crime scenes…”
Donut raised a hoof to quieten him, and they sat in silence for a moment, with Donut seeming to avoid eye contact with Spyglass.
“Listen, son, this case you’re working on? The guys at the top think it’s a little above your pay grade. Your putting all your work into this, and there’s more stuff your attention to detail for would be better spent on.”
“You’re kicking me off the case?” Spyglass said, devastated, as the spree of robberies was his first case. Donut winced slightly before he spoke again, as though he was reluctant.
“Actually, you’re being demoted. We’re having you assigned to be assistant detective to ‘Old Glasses’. You’ll be bumped straight back up as soon as he retires, and that ol’ bag of bones’ll be out of the station door in a couple months anyway.” Donut admitted.
Spyglass felt like he had been kicked in the gut. He had been making so much progress and besides, he worked better alone. Couple that with the lower pay of an assistant detective and that, with said lower pay, he wouldn’t be able to afford to live as he currently did, it was obvious that the movement was going to have drastic consequences for Spyglass, regardless of the short-termed nature of the situation. Before he could even open his mouth in protest, though, Donut had started speaking again.
“Don’t try and argue, Spyglass, the boys at the top have made up their mind. Nothing either of us do will change that. You know I wouldn’t want to do this to you, but the orders came through as clear as day. The force is facing enough punishment from the press as it is; and the robberies you were working on has got the press real exited. That means that the chief and his cronies doesn’t want those damn reporters, with their over-excitable imaginations, finding we’ve got a new guy working on the biggest case to hit the city in 10 years.”
Regardless to the Sergeant's assurances, Spyglass began to protest.
“You have to be kidding! You’re kidding right?” He asked, stammering over his words in shock. Donut gave Spyglass a stern, yet almost apologetic look.
“Look, one minor setback ain’t gonna affect your career a little bit.” Donut assured Spyglass.
“Are you kidding? I can barely afford my house as it is! What do those idiots want from me?” Spyglass shouted angrily. Donut gave him another apologetic look, and then put on his usual stern face.
“I’m sorry kid. This is the way it has to be. Listen, you’re freaking out. How about you go meet Old Glasses and spend the rest of the day off?” Donut offered.
All out of protests, Spyglass resigned from further debate, retrieved his hat, walked to the door and stepped out, closing the door behind him. Placing his hat back on his head, he noticed that a lot of ponies were staring at him, much to his annoyance. Ignoring them, he cantered slowly over to his desk and swept a hoof across the top, shoving all of the papers into his bag – he would dispose of them later.
Spyglass was about to take a seat, but then remembered about his partnership with ‘Old glasses’. Vaguely familiar with the detective, who was something of a legend within the department, more due to his extreme age than anything else, he spotted him sat at his desk on the other side of the room. Turning to face Old Glasses, Spyglass began to walk towards him. Despite the commotion in the room mostly consisting of hushed rumours about what happened to Spyglass in Donut’s office, Old Glasses was focussed completely on his work, not even looking up from his papers. Stopping halfway there, Spyglass frowned and looked around the room. Sure enough, several sets of eyes disappeared behind cubicle walls from where they had been watching him while discussing rumours of the events in Donut’s office.
“Alright, everypony.” Spyglass addressed the room. “You can stop talking about me. I got demoted, and have to work with the fine gentleman over there.” He said, gesturing at Old Glasses, who was still engrossed in his work. “OK?” He demanded, although he received no answer as everyone ducked down and acted as though they didn’t know what he was talking about. Arriving at Old Glasses’ desk, he smiled, offered his hoof to the old detective, and introduced himself.
“The names Spyglass, are you Old Glasses? The boss’s got us working together.”
The only response he got was a grunt, and his hoof was ignored. Still smiling awkwardly, he decided to make a joke.
“So, Old Glasses? That your real name?” He asked, although this time he was ignored outright. Looking down at the veteran detective, he wondered if he was being ignored, or if the old pony genuinely hadn’t heard him. On the wrong side of 70, the earth pony was grey with an old fashioned, neatly cut black mane. His face was an ocean of wrinkles, although a large black moustache still made him look somewhat intimating. He had a pair of glasses on his flank, completely reminiscent of the thick rimmed pair he wore on his head, which blocked the view of his uninterested, milky blue eyes. Still annoyed with the lack of response from the ancient pony, Spyglass cleared his throat to get his attention. Once again he was ignored, so he tried again, but louder, this time drawing the attention of the ponies in the area immediately surrounding Old Glasses’ cubicle. Nevertheless, Old Glasses still hadn’t stirred. Narrowing his eyes, certain that the rude old pony had heard him this time, Spyglass decided he had done being nice.
“Listen, I’m sure you don’t want to work with me, but we don’t have much of a choice on the matter, so I think we should get to know one another.” He said, firmly but still respectful.
“Uh huh.” Old Glasses muttered, deeply irritating Spyglass, who slammed his right hoof down on Old Glasses’ desk with enough force to make everypony in the room jump in surprise, and scatter papers around Old Glasses’ cubicle.
“Listen old man, I just got put with you and I ain’t happy about it, but there’s nothing we can do so how about you listen to me and we get along fine until you retire?” He asked, half shouting now. Moving surprisingly fast for such an old colt, Old Glasses jumped out of his chair and twisted Spyglasses’ hoof, which was still on the desk, behind his back, much to the displeasure of Spyglass, who gasped in shock and pain. Any attempt to resist or move resulted in Old Glasses pushing even harder on his arm, which was getting increasingly painful. Standing on three hooves when your other hoof was being bent the wrong way was difficult, so Spyglass put his left fore hoof on Old Glasses’ desk to support himself. Old Glasses held him in the humiliating position for a few seconds, fully aware that the attention of the room was focussed on the two of them. Then he spoke in a cold, menacing voice that, despite the tough words, still betrayed the age of the speaker.
“If you ever try and get tough with me again, I’ll buck you halfway into next week. Got it?” He growled, his eyes narrowed behind his thick-rimmed glasses.
“Yes! Yes, I understand!” Spyglass just about managed to squeak, to which Old Glasses freed his hoof. Old Glasses then sat down and continued with his work as though nothing had happened, leaving Spyglass to walk out of the cubicle, nursing his painful right shoulder. Stumbling over to his desk, he decided to take Donut up on his offer to take the rest of the day off. Not that it made much of a difference; he would be going in half an hour anyway. Still, he was eager to leave this day behind and get away from the gawking stares of his co-workers. They were an alright bunch of ponies, although he couldn’t say he knew many particularly well. They were all very stressed out recently, too, so he didn’t blame them for being so interested in the break in the monotony that was his conflict with Old Glasses. He would only call one of his colleges his friend and the pony in question intercepted Spyglass as he was walking out, having pulled on his saddle bag and hat.
“Hey, Spy! How you doin’?” A white pony with a black mane and tail, streaked with white strips, inquired from his right. Turning to face the question, Spyglass began to answer.
“Fine.” He sighed heavily, obviously not meaning it. “How about you, Tic Tac?”
“You sure ‘bout that? You look like Hearts Warming got cancelled.” Tic Tac pointed out, cheerily, ignoring Spyglass’ question.
“Oh trust me. I feel terrific right now.” Spyglass lied, fooling nobody.
“If you say so. Gotta be honest with you Spy, I didn’t know legs could be bent that far over a back.” Tic Tac said, grinning mischievously, although an angry frown from Spyglass straightened his face.
“Yeah, would you like to find out yourself?” Spyglass said, although he was half-smiling now. Backing off and holding up a hoof innocently, Tic Tac changed the subject.
“So what are you gonna do about Old Glasses then?” He asked seriously, a rare sight from his light hearted friend.
“I can’t work with that old sour-apple. Not after today.” Spyglass growled. “I’d rather be caught working with a mule.”
“I guess you’ll have to quit, then.” Tic Tac joked, smiling again. Pulling on a saddle bag, he didn’t notice the thoughtful look in Spyglass’ aqua eyes. “Come on, let’s go. So long, everypony! Be back tomorrow!” He announced, getting a couple of grins from around the room as they stepped in the elevator. He was definitely charismatic, to say in the least. They stood in silence –a difficult feat for Tic Tac- on the journey down the elevator, through the lobby and on to the street, but as they stepped out, Tic Tac began speaking again.
“Doing anything interesting tonight?” He asked, genuinely interested.
“Probably just crack open a cider and forget all of problems – one in particular.”
“Mind if I ask which one?”
“The one where I’m going to be evicted, because I can’t afford the rent.”
“I’m sure the force would offer you financial support.”
“If I needed it, which I don’t. I just can’t stand the thought of living any life other than my current exuberant lifestyle.” Spyglass grinned.
“You’re a funny guy Spyglass, but this is my turnoff. See you tomorrow.” Tic Tac said, turning down a narrow street.
“Sure, see you later, Tic.” Spy said, giving him a half-hearted mock salute.
Spyglass walked alone for a while until he arrived at his house, a neat and well-built, if admittedly small building in a row of recently built houses for the fairly rich-but-not-that-rich population of the city. Built out of bricks, it was a bungalow with a steep conical roof and a large wooden door, through which he stepped into the house. Throwing his hat straight from his head straight onto a coat hook, a skill he was immensely proud of, he flicked a light switch and illuminated the room. Standing inside of his lounge, Spyglass looked at the simple, stylish furnishings he had around the place: a small cotton couch, a wooden-framed, glass-topped coffee table and a potted flower in the corner, which he had watered in the morning.
Walking through his lounge into a kitchen/dining room area, he flicked another switch and revealed equally simple décor. Working his way around a small table, he moved through the open plan space into a kitchen consisting of a stove, fridge/freezer and small worktop with a cupboard underneath. Opening up the fridge, he browsed through its contents, mostly consisting of boil-in-the-bag ready meals and alcoholic beverages. He selected a particular favourite cider brand of his, and dragged it out of the fridge in his mouth. While by no means an alcoholic, he did enjoy a good drink at the end of a day, and therefore was well prepared for his sudden spout of bad luck and subsequent depression. Grabbing a box of chocolates from his counter, and balancing it on his back, he walked back to his lounge and tipped the box onto his couch, and put the cider bottle on the floor. Unscrewing the lid of the cider bottle between his hooves, he picked it up in his mouth and took a large swig. Placing it back on the floor, he diverted his attention towards the chocolates, and lifted them up. Reading a small gift tag that read, “Dear Spyglass, I owe U one box of chocolates. Love, Spyglass.” he thought briefly how irrationally amusing he had found his little joke when he had done it, before tipping a few into his mouth. After several minutes of eating chocolates and drinking, he felt a sudden urge to act. Rising and tottering drunkenly into his bedroom, he slumped at his desk and began to write with a stubby pencil on a clean piece of paper. Not even glancing up at a Spitfire poster, and another of the whole team of Wonderbolts, of whom he was a large fan, he wrote for several hours until he finally picked himself up and collapsed onto his bed, falling asleep immediately. Tomorrow would change his entire life, after all.
