The Murder of Cheerilee

        Noteworthy felt the stagecoach come to an abrupt stop, jerking him forward slightly before he snapped his back against the cushions of the black leather seat. He cursed under his breath and rubbed his eyes, yawning as he tried his best to stretch in the confines of the cramped stagecoach. He grunted and cleared his throat, moving the curtain aside to take a peek at the old town.

        Ponyville had always maintained a calming atmosphere during the winter seasons, however, tonight was more than a tense night for the town. It was late enough into the day that ponies would normally have their lights out and everyone would be fast asleep, dreaming their worries away and blissfully restoring energy for the next day. But when Noteworthy looked at the town, every window glistened softly, casting a warm golden light stopping short down the road. Had Noteworthy not been there, he felt the town would be lit up that way under the circumstance of it being the night before Hearth’s Warming.

  The layers of snow thickened with each flake that landed on the ground, each one drifting slow and steadily like autumn leaves. When Noteworthy opened the stagecoach doors, he was greeted by a gentle wind that stung his face and his first steps onto the snow chilled him deep into the bone. Noteworthy tried to stop his convulsions and spasms from the frozen winds of the night, but the most he could do was grit his teeth in a fruitless attempt to feign resistance to the frost. Despite the trench coat he donned, it didn’t do much to save him from the rapidly spreading numbness.

Breaths came out, materializing in front of Noteworthy in the form of thick clouds. Winter shouldn’t be this cold.

Noteworthy banged on the side of his ride and the pony pulling it looked back at him, nodding his head and beginning to trot off down the snow covered road. The sturdy vehicle lurched with each uneven mound of snow, squeaking and clamoring louder than a Manehattan hooker. Noteworthy envied that stallion’s preparedness of the elements as well as his resilience.

“Detective.” A voice alarmed Noteworthy. It was the infamous Lyra Heartstrings, clad in a thick dark blue jacket, the letters P.P.D. in bold white letters on her left and right sides. Watching the cyan unicorn approach him from the schoolhouse made a chill run through Noteworthy. It was her vibrance that chilled him the most, making him wonder just how she was able to withstand the full brunt of winter in nothing more than that jacket. Her warm gold eyes were a mildly comforting sight, almost foreign though at this point, granted Noteworthy’s time away from home.

Lyra’s demeanor was a far cry from the excited and energized mare Noteworthy grew up with. There was confidence in her steps and less of a bounce. She did not crane her neck when walking forward anymore, instead holding herself higher than she would have done years ago. She held a stern expression, eyes fixated on Noteworthy and not jumping around at every little thing that moved in between. The other cops paid Lyra no mind, as if her new pragmatic attitude were normal.

“It’s been a while,” Lyra spoke, her voice maintaining a hard-nosed tone. “Personally, I’m glad they sent someone different this time. Other Canterlot detectives get under my skin, always so damn snobbish and expectin’ to get whatever they want because they’re ‘highborn’.”

“Yeah,” Noteworthy said, extending a hoof. “Nice to see you again too.”

“Sorry,” Lyra apologized. She gave a firm hoof-shake, a little tighter than Noteworthy was used to, but the warmth resonating from her was very welcome. “I wish we could have met again under different circumstances. I assume, they told you what you were walking into?”

“Yeah. Murder in the schoolhouse, the sick bastard.” Noteworthy dipped his head, shivering. There was a sense of dread in the air. The police around the crime scene silently patrolled, others standing guard around the yellow tape, each solemnly shivering in the freezing cold. There was fear in their eyes mixed with intensity. “Are you okay? I know you two had some—”

“Don’t worry about it.” Lyra barked. Noteworthy nodded his head and swallowed. “Let’s just get you in here and we’ll figure things out from there.”

Shouldn’t have said anything. Noteworthy thought solemnly. He followed Lyra across the road and onto the cleared path leading to the schoolhouse steps. The schoolhouse itself loomed over the ponies surrounding it, everyone stuck under its shadow and under the cold, steely gaze of the bell on the top of the building. The red paint and ornate gold designs gave the illusion of peace and innocence, especially with the snow dripping off the walls. Noteworthy took note of a darker shade of red dripping from the wetness of the snow, two ponies standing in front of it, shaking their heads.

Noteworthy’s heart was pounding, and it was not the freezing cold that caused it. He’d known Cheerilee since their highschool days and had even developed a little crush on her during those times. He may have told himself that he was over it, but in truth, that secret affection was still there, even when he moved to Canterlot and joined the local detective agency with Sparkler and Cinnamon, who was part of the widely known Apple Family.

“How’d you guys catch wind of this?” Noteworthy inquired.

“Got two ponies back at the station being interviewed as we speak. I’ll take you to them when we’re done here.” Lyra stopped at the doors of the school, one of which was knocked off the hinges. Noteworthy had only a small peek inside, though from his angle, all he saw were textbooks on the floor and papers, some graded in red ink and others not, just tossed around, like somebody made the mess on purpose.

“Listen,” Lyra spoke gently. “I don’t know what you saw in Canterlot, but it’s kinda bad in there.”

“Don’t worry.” Noteworthy’s voice became hoarse and rough from the cold, burning his throat each time he tried to speak.. I’ve seen my fair share of murders, though mostly petty stab victims and victims of magic ‘gone wrong’. “You see plenty of things in Canterlot. Anyway, she’s inside?”

“Yeah, but…” Lyra paused, resting her hoof on the door handle. “Well, yeah.”

“Okay,” Noteworthy waited for Lyra to open the door. “What’s the issue exactly?”

“She’s...Well, she—” Lyra stopped and pushed the door open slightly. “Just see for yourself.”

Upon opening the door, Noteworthy entered the building, following behind Lyra. His stomach twisted into a knot at the rank scent of blood and rotting flesh. There was a heavy metallic aura floating around in the room, so powerful, Noteworthy could taste the iron. There were no other ponies inside, only the equipment remained. Blinding lights covered the center of the classroom, desks having been cleared out, save for one. There was a lump sprawled on that lone desk, but Noteworthy diverted his attention elsewhere. His heart thumped harder inside his chest.

Noteworthy glanced down at the papers on the floor, quickly realizing that it was not red ink on the papers after all. The As were written in blood. Neatly crafted and circled. On the desk beside a history textbook was a fountain pen, the black ink mixed with a minor tint of crimson.

“Worthy,” Lyra called. Noteworthy wished he better prepared himself to face her.

Cheerilee was...Well, Noteworthy was thankful that her head was mostly intact, even if it was mostly covered in her own blood. If the head was torn and mangled like the rest of her body, it would have been impossible to tell if the pony sprawled out on the front middle student desk was really the elementary teacher of the town. As Noteworthy stepped closer, eyes stinging from the pungent odor, he saw that her cutie marks had been torn off. It was not cut with precision, rather someone made two straight cuts before deciding it would be easier to just tear it off instead of keeping some uniform incisions. The process had been performed on both of her flanks, exposing muscle tissue, and caking her normally soft fur with dried blood.

“Feel terrible for the poor sap that has to take her back to the morgue.” Lyra commented. “Feel terrible in general.”

Noteworthy stepped closer, the knot in his stomach tightening as the odor grew stronger. Cheerilee always did have a pretty face, and Noteworthy was sad to see it go to waste in this way. She could have had all stallions of Ponyville following her, waiting for the opportunity to associate themselves with her in more than just a friendly way. That was, if she had the time to socialize and make friends. Now, she sported two cuts on her forehead; one cut sliced down from her forehead to the top of her brow, and the other was a small gash under her right eye. Both of her eyes were wide open, though her right eye suffered from extensive swelling, almost shutting the eye completely. From what Noteworthy could tell, they were frozen in a state of utter terror.

The torso was another story entirely. From the base of the neck all the way down to the middle of her chest, the skin was peeled back and held there with thumbtacks. The sight took the air from Noteworthy’s lungs. He hoped that Cheerilee had already been dead by the time the murderer had done that damage, but he doubted it. If anything, she died by bleeding out from the flaying of her chest. The edges of the flaps of skin were not cut with the precision of a knife or scalpel, unlike the first two slices in her flanks. The flesh here was made with something more rough.

The bones in her left hind-hoof had been snapped in several places, except for the joints. On both hind-hooves, there were marks, where fur bent in odd directions, creating an imprint.

She must have been tied down. Noteworthy thought. “Did you find any rope in the area? Chains?”

“Nothing.” Lyra’s voice cracked. She cleared her throat. “Yeah, it’s just her in here. Her, and the papers graded by the desk.”

Damn. “A weapon anywhere?”

“Like I said: Nothing. Whoever did this took everything with them.”

Noteworthy did not want to be around the corpse anymore. He was used to single wounds and blunt force trauma. But this...This was barbaric. Canterlot was the capital city, there was no police force. The closest thing to one was the Royal Guard and unless somebody had a death wish, crimes were rarely committed in the city. When detective help was required, it was typically outside of the city and in some of the small towns surrounding. At least that had been the case with Noteworthy. Most of the cases he has been involved with had him leave Canterlot and head to places like Wolfpine and Manewick. Ponyville was generally a good town with virtually no crime. The fact that one was committed now gave Noteworthy chills.

Given the fashion of the murder, it was easy to say that this was not just a result of blind rage or the result of an accident (obviously).

“I’m gonna look around.” Noteworthy turned away from the body, allowing a sigh of relief to escape his lips. The night was young and he suspected he would be staying in the town for a while before the case was solved, a few days at best. If I’m lucky.

Noteworthy found himself staring out of the broken window, watching the snow start to pick up. The glass was shattered, coming inward, sparkling on the floor and decorating the desks. Noteworthy felt himself move toward the chilling breeze entering from the shattered glass, avoiding where the shards were the most dense.

“Culprit came in through there we think,” Lyra said. “The glass shattered—”

“—inwards.” Noteworthy finished. “Yeah, I could tell.”

There was something on the ground. It fluttered slightly in the wind, but was pinned down by a leg of a desk.

“Feather.”

“Pardon?”

It was a feather. It blended in with the wood floors, a hazel hue hardly noticeable, even when examined up close, disregarding the glass surrounding it. Noteworthy picked it up and placed it on the table that once pinned it down, gently holding it down with a hoof.

“There’s a feather.” Noteworthy repeated.

Lyra’s eyes widened. “Pegasus or…”

“Unsure at this point, though I’m leaning towards it being a Griffin.” Noteworthy admitted. He knew what she was asking and at the same time, he hated her for asking. Then again, anybody else would have done the same. It was hard trying to differentiate the feathers of a pegasus and the feathers of a griffon. Feathers were feathers, and both had very similar. The brown color just made things harder. Any other color and Noteworthy may have been able to narrow it down to a pegasus. “Bag this one up.”

The feather levitated, surrounded by Lyra’s golden aura. She stuffed it into a zip bag sloppily labelled ‘Evidence’ with a near-dead black marker. Noteworthy continued to search for any sign of who they were dealing with. No blood on the floor near the shattered window, nor was there any fur besides Cheerilee’s.

“You got anything else?” Lyra asked. Noteworthy could hear the impatience in her voice. “I’m sorry, I just want to get the hell out of here.”

“I’d like to speak with the two you got at the station.” Noteworthy turned his gaze towards the glow of the town from the destroyed window.

“Hey.” Lyra’s voice took on a more gentle tone, hushed. “You really think a griffin did this?”

“It’s hard to say. Some of the cuts on the body look precise like someone took a knife, but others are sloppy.” Noteworthy turned to face Lyra, occasionally shooting a glance at Cheerilee. “Whatever the case, we’re gonna catch this asshole, whoever it is.”

“Right” Lyra turned around and headed for the door. “C’mon, I’ll take you to the station.”