The Misdemeanor Private Detective Agency

Chapters

Because It Couldn't Get Any Worse
So... Something About An Investigation...
Families - You Can't Choose Them
Friends - You Should Choose Better
How To Displease Ponies
Confessions of an Over-Enthusiastic Detective
Beyond The Crime Scene
Would Somepony Please Confess Already...
Epilogue: Ready For A Stiff Drink
How Educated Must The Guess Be?
A Slightly Less Hopeful Start

Because It Couldn't Get Any Worse

Ow.

Oh, that was unfair. Attacking a defenceless mare while she's trying to keep a dying stallion alive; that just isn't the done thing! Or at least, I didn't think it was the done thing. Clearly, whoever it was that knocked me out thought it was a good idea.

Well, they would pay for it later - I knew where they lived.

Tentatively, I opened an eye, expecting to see the rising Moon and a rather lush green lawn. Unless it was an unusually grey night, with a worryingly bright Moon, I wasn't in the garden any more. Stretching out my muscles (they still burned like the Sun's fiery heart) I rolled on to my side, trying to understand my surroundings.

They were grey.

Hmm, come on brain, you can do better than that.

I was raised slightly off the floor on a bed, looking on to the floor, empty except for a single pot in the corner. What I initially mistook for a blank wall actually had the large rectangular outline of a door. At about eye-height there was a metal grille, staring out onto a more brightly lit corridor.

Something seemed vaguely familiar.

It wasn't a hospital, which I found rather insulting - I'd just been knocked out! It couldn't have been that private manor; nopony in their right mind would have a room like this in their house.

I rolled off the bed onto the floor. Ouch! Who had metal floors? Perhaps I had been attacked by the pony trying to kill that stallion - and I had been locked in here until they came to subject me to various hideous tortures, like eating celery and listening to DJ P0n-3 for more than five seconds at a time...

My heart stopped for a second while I considered the possibilities.

It was starting to get cold on the floor, so I stood up, waiting for the blood to reach my head after being laid down for so long. Blood... hmm, I smelt of blood... I, oh, ugh - even the memory of it disgusts me!

I spent the next five minutes running in a small circle, trying to get rid of the cloying stickiness matting my fur. I may also have screamed vivid profanities at the same time - I'm not entirely sure - I was a little preoccupied. My front hooves had been dyed scarlet by the stallion's blood, which had probably dried over an hour ago. Oh, I need another bath, pronto!

Equestrians have the common misconception that bat ponies enjoy the blood of their fellow ponies. When faced with this uneducated assumption, I always had the urge to deny it completely. This, however, would have been a lie. Bat ponies have a complex system of traditional beliefs - some of which have by now been proved wrong. Unhelpfully, the practice of drinking the blood of non-magical creatures has continued unchallenged, and is perfectly acceptable in the colonies. Telling Equestrians that only the blood of magical creatures is forbidden doesn't fill them with trust or confidence.

"Hey, is anypony there?" I called up the the grille, still squirming at the feeling, "Hey! Is anypony listening to me?"

My voice echoed unnoticed down the hall. What is a mare supposed to do to get some attention around here? Here... oh, I was a stupid pony. I glanced back at my cell, then again at the corridor, which was lined by several identical metal doors until a line of steel bars blocked the only exit. It was a prison! This lack of perception may be excused in any normal pony, especially if they had just been knocked out, but I couldn't help but feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment as my cutie mark itched uncomfortably. What use was a special talent in perception if you couldn't recognize a prison?

Wait... why would I be in prison?

Unfortunately, the only way to find out would be to ask somepony. With no one at hoof, I decided to persuade an officer to come over. There would be somepony supervising; they must have heard me. All it would take was a little play acting and a stupid guard.

I screamed loudly and made a loud thumping noise with my wings, "Don't hit me!" I cried out, making another thudding noise, "No, don't hit me again!" - thud - "please officer! Don't-" - thud - "Somepony help!" - thud -

"What's going on in there?" I finally heard a guard shout. Keys rattled in the door, letting it swing open on me; sat patiently on the floor, hooves folded neatly, and a bored expression plastered to my face.

"You know, if that's really how long it takes you to notice, I'd have been beaten to a pulp by now."

"I - what the - you-" the guard collected himself, brushing a hoof through his uniformly blue mane, "What are you doing?" He eventually demanded coherently.

"I was pretending to beat myself up."

"Why?" He seemed rather angry about all of this. Terrible. Talk about the professionalism of our police officers. He should have been delighted to help.

"Because I want to ask you a question." I got to my hooves to address him properly. He was a rather tall colt, probably quite handsome by pony standards, though had an incredibly annoying habit of stomping his hooves - either out of anger or because he was nervous about being alone with such a devastatingly dangerous mare. "Actually, there might be two questions. One - why am I in prison? Two - could you bring me some hot water, and preferably a sponge as well?"

It took him a while to consider my demands, during which time I added his mental vacancy to my list of annoyances.

"You are convicted for the murder of Sir Gently Articulate-"

"I swear he was alive the last time I saw him!"

"-and no, you may not have some water and a sponge."

"But just look at my hooves!" I held one up to his face. In my defence, I may have over-shot this display due to my boundless enthusiasm, and I might have accidentally bumped his nose slightly... The impact was a little bit heavier than I had initially intended - not that I had intended it at all - but I wasn't the kind of pony to ignore a brilliant opportunity when it arose.

Gracefully, I hopped over his prone form - which was moaning uselessly on the floor, clutching a bleeding snout - and trotted out into the corridor. Of course, I am a great believer in upholding the law, and breaking out of prison was a deep insult to the professionals who were holding me here. But seeing as I knew I wasn't guilty, I felt it was my civilian duty to politely inform them that they had arrested the wrong mare.

They didn't quite see eye-to-eye with me...

I managed to get out of the cell, snag the keys from the incapacitated guard, and get past the barred barrier and out into the main station. It was there I came into a waiting room. They probably let visitors come in here to see the prisoners, and it had a falsely pleasant atmosphere with comfy chairs, a potted plant, and a knackered-looking water cooler. No windows could tell me what time of night it was, but I could guess that visiting hours were over.

Nevertheless, the room did have some ponies in it.

Luckily, they were too busy arguing to notice me slipping over to the water cooler where I proceeded to wash off my hooves.

"Now miss - there's no reason to be so angry-"

"No reason? No reason? I have been worried for hours! Hours!"

"Now little filly, you mustn't worry -"

"I'm not worried; Mummy was, though-"

"-nopony thought to tell me where my little darling was-"

"-obviously we were dealing with a serious situation-"

"Of course you were! My filly was left on her own!"

It was then that the door burst open and the stallion I'd accidentally punched came tumbling into the room, his snout swelling painfully. He, understandably, looked panicked, but he appeared to be handling the situation incredibly well - after letting a prisoner escape he could lose his job! I knew I wouldn't be too quick to admit to that.

"She's escaped!" He shouted over the roar, though his commanding tone was ruined by the nasal whine that actually came out. "You must have seen her!"

"What are you talking about, Officer Spell?" A tall thin stallion stood out from the general fray - which, now I looked, actually only contained four ponies - and adjusted his hat. "Who has escaped?"

"The bat pony! The murderer! She knocked me out and stole my keys!"

"Then how did you get in here without your keys?"

"She left the gate open!" Oh, I was a stupid pony. I could have locked him in the cell! It must have been karma - if you're stupid enough not to think of the most basic plans, you will get caught out.

"If she's that brainless, she'll probably be trying to fly out of a locked window right now." This time it was a skinny mare who was insulting me. With a hair style that looked like it cut to precise measurements using a ruler and a spirit level, and a pair of librarian's glasses balanced on the end of her snout, I decided that she wasn't in a position to criticize me. "Don't worry your pretty little head about it, Spell."

"It's not exactly a 'pretty' head, though, is it?" I said before my brain could catch up, "The swelling's really an improvement."

Several pair of eyes turned to me, along with their respective heads. Nopony was laughing at my joke. Only one of them was remotely happy.

"Auntie Turny!" Lullaby squealed, "They said you were busy!"

"I was busy being locked up, Lulu," I explained, and looked back to all of the staring faces. Now, that comeback, if it had been funny, would have been worth being discovered for. But... seeing as nopony was laughing, I decided that it hadn't been worth it at all. Tonight wasn't the best for bright ideas, is it?

The whole situation was becoming rather awkward; the guard didn't seem to want to approach me to rearrest me, the tall thin stallion was waiting for the guard to do his job, and my sister was doing her best to ignore everypony else - including Lullaby, who was asking why I had been locked in a cupboard.

Luckily (or unluckily), that was when two more ponies entered the room, and everything became a little too cosy. One was a short, stocky stallion, with a puffed out chest and flaring wing tips. He was so short his orange ears only reached as high as my chin, in an attempt to look older that ten, he maintained a stiff forest of grey stubble on his jutting chin. The other was my employer.

"Nocturne, I have to congratulate you," Conundrum announced before anypony else could complain, with no trace of sarcasm at all, "if you committed this murder, I fully understand if it was done to finally get us some decent work - and I applaud your enthusiasm - just try not to get caught before we've solved it, alright? That was a very basic error."

"I... I didn't do it, sir..." I mumbled, wondering why he had these crazy theories, and whether he would be disappointed by the truth.

"Complex Conundrum? Is that you?" The tall stallion squinted at Conundrum, his green eyes narrowing so that crow's feet spread out across his face. At first I though that they might have once been friends, until the stallion smirked cruelly and sauntered over, his body moving like one dark, giant, berry splodge.

"Classic Corduroy - still wearing that ridiculous hat?" Conundrum stood slightly straighter, doing little to make up for the height difference.

"That's Detective Inspector Corduroy to you, Conny." The inspector snorted derisively, and brushed a hoof to his top lip. It was there I noticed the scrubbing-brush moustache, which wriggled and writhed as if it had been unwillingly glued to his face - though only after being forcefully dyed that hideous shade of dark ginger. Once I'd noticed it, it was impossible to look away. "I'd say it was a pleasure to meet you again," the moustache squirmed, "but I'd be lying."

"And I would congratulate you on the promotion - but we both know you didn't earn it."

"Oh, and how's that little agency of yours? Have you resorted to committing the murders now?"

"Even if we had, you wouldn't be able to solve them."

"Really? Then why do I have your new little assistant in prison?"

"Technically, I'm not in prison..." I murmured, only to be ignored as the two stallions shot insults at each other. Clearly they had an awful lot of catching up to do, and their bitter resentments should be respected.

Unfortunately, when the argument was about to come to blows after they had insulted each other's mothers, the offensively orange stallion stepped in like the saddle-sore pony that he was.

"ENOUGH!" He screamed, deafening all of the innocent bystanders, including myself. "I have enough to do without you fighting over nothing -" he jabbed a hoof at Corduroy, "- you distracting investigators -" he waved a wing at Conundrum, "- and you snivelling in the corner!"

"S-sorry, s-sir..." the young guard whimpered. The nose bleed wasn't stopping and the poor little colt was looking tired and peaky. The weak little thing looked like he needed his mother to kiss it better... Bless.

For the love of the immortal Moon Goddess - police officers these days are pathetic!

"Has the prisoner woken up yet?" He demanded, stalking up to the guard. Clearly he didn't notice Conundrum congratulating me when they came in - not that I was about to admit to it. This was when he started to cry (the guard, not the bossy pegasus), which made Lullaby ask if she could hug him - so obviously I had to intervene as Fantasia was still trying to act above the whole situation.

"No, you can't hug him, Lulu - he needs to learn how to be a tough stallion and own up to his failings." I decided then and there that I needed to learn to keep my big mouth shut.

"And who would you be?" the pegasus rounded on me, trying to puff himself out to appear bigger. By his stance I could guess that he had once been part of the Royal Guard - the essentially useless bodyguards of princesses and anypony else who happens to be no hoof at the time - and had transferred to the police once his soldiering days were over. I could imagine him as a rather terrifying drill sergeant.

"The name's Nocturne - I've just come through; you see, I think you put me in the wrong room earlier?"

"The wrong room?" Oh, perfect, he was slow as well - the exact criteria for becoming a drill sergeant.

I smiled back at him reassuringly and nodded slowly, "Yeah, there was a metal floor and the door was locked - but that's all been sorted out now, so... I will, um, be leaving now?" It was a long shot and I knew it wouldn't work. Even as I was tacked to the floor by a deceptively heavy pegasus, I considered the futility of my plans. Unless this stallion was prone to spontaneous flying tackle-hugs, I was going to end up back in the cell.

"Hey! Don't stand on my wing!"

"Why in the name of Princess Celestia's Sun-kissed behind is this prisoner not in her cell?" He may have included a few other profanities, but I couldn't be bothered to list them here - there were too many repetitions. Anyway, every so often Lullaby repeated them, having not realised hoe incredibly rude they were. Talk about the irresponsibility of ponies these days...

"She escaped, sir!"

"And why did she escape?"

"Oh, um - well..."

I rolled over, staring at the empty metal room from my lumpy mattress. Sensation had finally returned to my wing, after Sergeant Cross Winds - a name I soon learned - had stood on it for what felt like hours. Sighing, I turned over again to stare at the wall. I had been here for at least half the night, and was starting to run out of things to consider.

Sweet stars, was I bored...

Luckily, the door soon swung open and my features lit up. They were quickly subdued by the tired scowl of my boss. I couldn't tell whether it was my fault or not; he existed in a state of permanent grumpiness.

"Are you going to get up, or are you too preoccupied?"

"That depends - where are we going?" I stretched nonchalantly, trying to hide my eagerness to leave this cramped cell. Even if he said I was being taken for questioning which may or may not involve a ravenous manticore if I didn't confess, I would still have followed him out.

"I will go back to my house, and I expect you will disappear into whatever place it is you call 'home'." I shot a look over at him, trying to see if he was lying to me. Nope... he looked as if he was telling the truth. Though there was a strange glint to his eyes - it wasn't a nervous look, or a natural air of enthusiasm or optimism. No - he was excited.

I tumbled off the bed and trotted over, deliberately stepping over the threshold to freedom, just in case it suddenly slammed shut on me. "Why are they letting me go?"

"Once I discovered that you had been arrested while you were unconscious-" he raised an eyebrow at this, "- I told them that they were acting against Equestrian law. Did you know that it was illegal to arrest a pony without their knowledge?"

"I do now!" I broke into a smile, though it soon collapsed as we passed through the gate and into the waiting room, "Wait - doesn't that mean they could just arrest me as soon as I get out to the street?"

"Not unless they find a bit more evidence," Conundrum glanced at me, his face alight with an emotion I had only seen on a couple of occasions, "which is exactly what we are going to do!" Eager delight gave his features life as he trotted down the steps leading down from the station's door. "I think, young Nocturne, that we finally have some work worthy of our talents."

It turned out that while I had been in prison, Conundrum had been contacted by the widow to be signed up as a private investigator. He wouldn't tell me why she had wanted us on the case along with the police - but I knew she wouldn't once she realised that I would be one of the detectives. Nevertheless, I wasn't going to turn down the prospect of work; especially from what I could only presume to be a rich widow.

After Conundrum had received this offer, and had a few minutes to wonder why I wasn't at the office, the guards showed up to inform him that his young assistant had been arrested, and that he needed to come along to answer some questions. I had an awful feeling that he was still half-expecting to announce me as the murderer, but that was a problem I could address later.

Lullaby and Fantasia left several hours earlier - Fantasia was eager to leave (as well as it being several hours after Lulu's bedtime). So I was free to go home and sleep. Conundrum had decided that now we had a case, we ought to be operating during the day at more sociable hours - so I would be meeting him at the office at nine. Somewhere along the way I had lost my sunglasses; knowing I didn't have any spare pairs, working so early in the morning was going to be ordeal - but orders were orders, and I refuse to be beaten by the Sun.

Exhausted from doing nothing, stiff from the prison bed, and still aching from the evening before, I couldn't be bothered to fly up to my apartment. Grudgingly, I opened the door and hobbled up the stairs slowly. I could hear a party going on in a room on the third floor, sounding like all of the alcohol had by now been consumed - leaving anypony still conscious raucously drunk.

Just as I turned to go up the next flight of stairs, a hoof rested threateningly on my shoulder. I was about to buck the owner of said hoof, until I heard the voice, "I haven't seen you for a while, Nocturne."

"Oh, yeah... I've been busy..." I turned slowly to see my landlord and one of his burly thugs. They must have been checking up on the party to make sure it wasn't destroying too much of his apartment.

It was the thug who had been resting his meaty white hoof on my shoulder, and now stood dutifully beside his master - only at a tipsy angle, either from the late hour, or any booze he might have snagged from the party. My landlord, on the other hoof, was entirely sober, and neither was he large and muscular. Nevertheless, he was the one I was afraid of.

"Busy earning rent money, I hope?" he asked, in that voice that sounded as if it was leering at you constantly. I could feel my skin crawling every time he spoke. To be honest, even his appearance was a little creepy, not being helped by his oily slick-backed mane and smarmy purple eyes that squinted at anything gold and shiny.

"Of course."

"So - where is the money, Nocturne? You know it was due yesterday." He smiled in an attempt to look friendly, instead appearing ready to murder and skin several puppies.

"What was due yesterday?" I rubbed the back of my head and laughed nervously. "You know - my rent... well - it might be a little, teeny bit late... I've got some work, and I know I'll have the money in about -" I mumbled weakly, pawing at the ground like a painfully uncomfortable puppy.

"What was that, Nocturne? You don't have your rent?" He squinted at me, considering whether if he squeezed me hard enough the money might just come out. "I'm not surprised, in all honesty - I never wanted to rent to your type - you're too unreliable."

"I am actually incredibly reliable!" I protested, "I am reliably late with my rent - I just don't pay it when you want it." I felt my knees buckle slightly as the hoof of the thug returned heavily to my shoulder.

"Unfortunately for you, Nocturne, I am the one you are supposed to be pleasing." He took a step towards me, closing the gap between us. This close, I could smell the stench of hair grease and the broken dreams of thousands of puppies. Don't ask me what broken puppies' dreams smell like - all I could say is that it isn't pleasant. "I'm going to be generous, Nocturne," he hissed, "because my wife has insisted that I don't throw you onto the street."

"Your wife must be the barer of the Element of Generosity if she willingly married you-"

"You have three days to pay up in full, or you're out. After that, whatever my wife says, you will be thrown out of here by your wing tips!" He leaned back and smiled, satisfied after a hard day's work crushing innocent puppies. "I do hope you understand, Nocturne."

I didn't reply. I was too busy praying to the Moon Goddess that I wouldn't be added to a puppy stew.

He accepted my silence by way of agreement, and slithered back down the hall to where ever it was that he lived with his 'wife'.

Now, you might be wondering why I don't refer to him by name; the truth is - it's because I never knew his name...

Before you start calling me rude, allow me to explain. I organised living here while I was leaving the guard, and was quite busy at the time - so when his name was mentioned on the letters I received, I successfully ignored it. That's also the reason I thought I was getting a rather good deal for a large apartment in Canterlot. As it turned out, when not in a letter, houses become less appealing, landlords become less friendly, and rents suddenly seem a lot more expensive. So I ended up here, desperately trying to find another job to pay a rent that was strictly enforced, with absolutely no time, nor the inclination, to learn the name of my landlord.

I also lived on the top floor and had little acquaintance with my neighbours, so had never been able to ask when I moved in, and knew it would be too awkward to ask now, especially after living here for several years. Leaving me with absolutely no idea who my landlord was.

Not that knowing would help to pay the rent, so I continued trudging upstairs, hoping that the rich widow would pay some money upfront with the promise of more once we solved the case.

As if that would happen - life has never been so kind to me.

So... Something About An Investigation...

Stumbling down the street, I raised an aching hoof to shield aching eyes. The whole world seemed to be glowing majestic gold, reflecting from the while-washed walls and the ornate gates that loomed over me, judging every step I made. My wings were heavy on my back, sweat festering beneath the folds as they were baked by the Sun. All I wanted to do was crawl quietly into a refrigerator and shut the door.

"I'm blind!" I wailed to the stallion beside me. He didn't share my pain, and he wasn't being very sympathetic about the situation. A permanent frown had plastered itself to his face as soon as he'd seen me, and he continually glared down his snout at me - as if I were to blame!

"Stop being so melodramatic, Nocturne, and stand up properly." He snapped, pressing the buzzer on one of the fancy golden gates. "We have an investigation to conduct and you are refusing to be professional about it."

"But it's so hot, and I can barely see a thing!" I did stand up a bit straighter, though, as a maid came out to open the gates for us. I had told myself last night that I was not going to be beaten by the Sun. I also needed to make a good second impression after what had happened; I had been fully prepared to forgive whoever it was that had knocked me out, so long as they let us take on the work. Otherwise, well - let's just say that they might have experienced an unfortunate haunting until they hired us...

"Are you the private investigators?" the maid squeaked, her buttercup yellow muzzle pointed decisively at the ground with only her watery eyes raised slightly in our direction.

"Yes; I would be Complex Conundrum, and this is my apprentice Nocturne."

"Oh!" She finally lifted her gaze enough to notice me, only to regret the decision. "Oh, um, okay, if-if you would just follow me, please..." she turned away and trotted off primly, not even worrying to check if we had closed the gate behind us. She was a pretty young mare; her mane and tail both tied back neatly into buns and her uniform pristine and shining in the morning light. Her face was probably also quiet pretty, but I doubted that anypony had ever seen all of it. A pair of wings were also tucked at her sides, however they looked like they were rarely used for flight - where the plumage would usually be thinned out a bit during use, hers was still thick and soft like that of a young fledgling yet to leave the nest. I didn't think I had seen her yesterday, but in the panic I could have easily missed her.

"It isn't a bad looking house, is it?" Conundrum commented, observing the two marble pillars that stood sentry before the grand oak front door. Above them they supported a modest balcony, and where flanked by the two wings of the house. It was a completely symmetrical affair, with glistening white walls, large windows, and every so often an opulent embellishment; such as the family's coat of arms pinned proudly to the door.

So yes - not a bad looking house. I gritted my teeth and pretended not to notice, unable to ignore the impending doom hanging over my own home.

We were led inside - where the air was pleasantly cooler, but the furnishings no less exquisite - and on into a modest reception room that was probably as big as my entire apartment.

"Madam, the private inspectors are here." The maid gave a polite curtsy to the ageing mare sat in the corner of the room. I recognized the mare from the night before - her lavender coat matched the streaks in her mane, which were separated by snow white lines (whether from age or an original feature, I couldn't tell), and a pair of silver eyes that sparkled in their grief. Considering that she had been widowed yesterday, her hair was well styled, her fur groomed, and her demeanour was every bit the lady.

"Thank you, Featherlight, that will be all," her refined voice was quiet, while making a clear impression of wealth and status. Years of privilege had led it to command a certain presence and expectation of obedience. I imagined that voice shrieking and knew immediately who had knocked me out - though how she'd had the strength to do it, I couldn't imagine; she was a rather plump mare well into her fifties.

"Lady Grace," Conundrum gave a slight bow and offered out a business card I'd forgotten we'd made, "I assure you we will do our very best to discover what happened last night."

"Thank you, Mr Conundrum; I have complete faith in your abilities." She set the card down on the side table without glancing at it.

"If I may be so bold to ask," I took a careful step forward, eliciting a nervous crease to appear just above her eyebrows; the only indication that she had recognized me, "why is it that you have employed us? Surely a case of this nature would normally be dealt with by the Equestrian Police Force?" Conundrum was casting me an odd look, but I continued to face the mare, hoping that I had used language posh enough for her to understand.

She observed me carefully, taking her time to reply. While this may seem oddly suspicious, I dismissed it. From the concentration her face was exhibiting, she was probably planning out her sentence so that she didn't have to stop halfway and go 'er...' like the rest of us common folk were prone to do.

"I dislike the police - they lack the delicacy and care that is required for such a task. When summoned last night..." She took a light breath to compose herself, "...they were rough and brutish, and arrested the first pony they encountered without any indication that they were the... culprit." Lady Grace dabbed at the corner of her eyes with a silk handkerchief before meeting my gaze again. "The pony they arrested had a remarkable resemblance to yourself - a relation of yours perhaps?" She was unprepared to admit to punching them... me - the culprit?

"Well..."

"I don't believe there was any relation, madam," Conundrum quickly intervened, "it is often the case with bat ponies that they appear very similar to each other." I glared at Conundrum as elegantly as I could in front of the lady. How he dared to suggest something so rude, I don't know. Admittedly, I did look very similar to myself, or at least I would hope so - so maybe his comment wasn't entirely wrong. "Even though, this is a terrible business if they have arrested a random pony with no connection to the crime - we will do our best to clear her name, I assure you."

"Ah, naturally." Lady Grace crossed her hooves before looking back to us, expecting us to continue the conversation. My employer looked back at her hopefully, no doubt waiting for her to lead the way.

I stepped in before things became too awkward.

"Would it be possible for us to view the scene of the crime?" I asked directly, causing her to flinch slightly but maintaining her regal demeanour, "It would be easiest to do it now - before the police arrive, and we promise not to disturb any of the evidence."

"Certainly." She raised a silver bell on the table and rang it softly, "I believe they will be coming at ten o'clock, if that gives you enough time?"

"Plenty, ma'am." We both bowed graciously and turned to leave the mare. Behind us the maid, Featherlight, had appeared silently, and was holding a hoof out to direct us further down the halls. She hadn't been there when I'd asked to see the crime scene, but somehow she took us to a private study near the back of the house, still in the centre portion of the building. The room was to the right, just beyond a length of police tape that ran directly across the hall, preventing any ponies who were inclined to pay attention to pieces of plastic declaring a 'POLICE CRIME SCENE: DO NOT ENTER'.

So, naturally, we ducked under it.

"Oh, excuse me?" I turned quickly back to the maid as Conundrum wandered into the study, "Would you be able to get me a list of all of the ponies who were here last night? Servants and guests alike."

"Yes, miss." She squeaked and disappeared down the hall, moving quickly on almost silent hooves.

So, this crime scene... I turned back, noticing the smears of blood that appeared in the wooden flooring down the hall, continuing until the large glass door that led out to the garden. There was so much blood, I wasn't sure that I wanted to see the study at all. Steeling myself, I stepped over the threshold.

The room had only one window, leaving it pleasantly dark. The decor also left the atmosphere feeling rather luxurious yet imposing at the same time. A large maple desk faced the door, with a black faux leather chair looming behind it. Floor length crimson curtains framed the solitary window to the left of the desk, which had a latch at the top, allowing only a small portion at the top to open - nowhere near large enough for a pony to fit through. The blood smears continued in from the hall onto the thick cream carpet that filled the study, where they faded slightly into the plush material. It ended with a particularly large splodge near the middle of the room.

I consoled myself with the fact that it wouldn't be me paying to replace the carpet.

Conundrum passed me a couple of hair nets and four plastic hoof covers. It wouldn't help if we left traces of ourselves all over the crime scene, now would it?

"Preliminary thoughts?" Conundrum asked, his own hooves and hair contained in identical blue plastic.

"His widow seems rather distant, but that could be the grief. She was strong enough to knock me out last night, but I'm finding it difficult to imagine her as a murderer." I replied, flying over to the desk to avoid the blood spots. There were a few papers - all of them letters between Gently Articulate and Bold Enterprise - a gilded letter opener with a nasty looking edge, and a photograph of the victim with a younger version of his wife, and two foals (a colt and a filly) posing in their garden on a sunny day.

"I'm thinking that she killed him after discovering a secret love affair with his secretary, and is hiring us to appear the loving and devoted wife while she makes off with his life insurance money." I raised an eyebrow at Conny, knowing that the theories were only going to get wilder as the case went on.

"That doesn't work on so many levels."

"Oh?" He huffed, picking up the letter opener I had been looking at, "because here is the murder weapon she madly slashed at him with as the truth was uncovered."

"Then why isn't it covered in blood?" I sighed, "That letter opener would never have made such a severe wound - and we don't even know if the victim had a secretary, let alone if he was having an affair with her." I wanted to add that she seemed too calm to act spontaneously, but, after last night, I couldn't allow myself to underestimate her anger.

"I was merely making suggestions..." he grumbled, setting the letter opener back down. I moved over to the edge of the blood splodge, body facing towards the door as the victim would presumably have been.

"What was his name?"

"Gently Articulate," Conundrum announced, rooting through the papers on the desk. "His family were historically part of Princess Celestia's government, but I hear he made his name through business."

"What kind of business?" I questioned suspiciously; a venture gone wrong could easily have gotten him killed.

"Rare art trade from overseas - I believe they called it The Exclusive Collection."

The room was completely bare of any artwork, except for a marble plinth holding up a vase of flowers. I supposed that to trade art didn't require you to like it.

Closing my eyes, I tried to imagine it - an ageing, wealthy business pony, trading rare and undoubtedly valuable pieces of art, with a good family name to uphold and a son and a daughter to pass it down to. I was stood in front of my desk and was stabbed, but didn't attempt to struggle. The wound, while being fatal, wasn't done to immediately kill me (so probably wasn't some trained killer from the shores of the Griffon Empire) - and while I took the time to find help, I don't name my attacker. Either I didn't see them - and that's why there was no struggle - or I didn't want them to be found out.

Only one wound... I opened my eyes again and looked at the smears leading out of the room. Unless they had been trampled on during the panic, they would never be so... long - or drawn out... unless he dragged himself to the garden on the front of his chest (which would be incredibly difficult to do) these patterns would never have been there. Blood in that quantity would drip substantially, of course, but like that? I guessed the attacker could have pulled him out... but why?

"These letters could be quite important," Conundrum snapped me out of my trance, forcing me to look where he was pointing. "Much of it looks like dull business, and that's the agreement to visit for the Summer Sun Celebration... this looks quite promising..."

The letter was written in the curling writing that can only be achieved by a unicorn horn, and was dated to a mere week ago. It went as such;

My old friend, Gently,

The proposal you suggested in your last letter intrigues me. I sympathize with your concerns, and while I do not have your experience as a father, I feel that I can fully support you in your decision. You have a respectable name to uphold and a large fortune that must be protected; leaving you no other option.

Your concern over Perfect's response is understandable, although this should not stay your hoof on the subject. You would be acting in her best interests. Foals often do not agree with what their parents dictate for them; it does not mean that the action should not be taken. In time she will understand what you have done, and I assure you - she will appreciate it. She is an intelligent mare and will soon see sense.

My own part in this scheme will be taken willingly and as a thanks to you, my old friend - for I too suffer the fears of what will happen to my own fortune when I pass on. It will also secure the future of The Exclusive Collection; a subject on which there has been a great deal of debate recently, as you will know.

I hope that we are both aware that it could not fall into the hooves of another business pony - our good family names must be protected at all costs.

I look forward to my visit, and hope to arrive on the eve of the Celebration in time for the festivities

Your loyal friend,

Bold Enterprise

"It begs the question - what was this proposal?" Conundrum stroked his chin in an attempt to look thoughtful. I placed the letter back where we had found it and glanced about the room again.

"I'm just going to take a look down the hall." I flapped out of the study and back onto the smooth wooden floor of the hall, taking care over where I set my feet. Slowly following the trail, I went all the way down the hall to the glass door before flying back over it. The blood appeared to get heavier the nearer to the garden you were - as would be expected; the wound would bleed more as Gently Articulate exerted himself. But the splodges stopped being smears about halfway down.

The attacker could have dragged him out of the study, made it part way down, and then... I dropped to the place the pattern changed. There were a few slight scuff marks on the wood, which in such a pristine house must have suggested something important. This section of the hall was also the next to have a door beside it after the study. The attacker could have hidden in here to escape, or maybe they heard voices and fled back towards the front of the house... but why drag him this far in the first place?

The possibilities were endless.

I wandered into the room beside me. The door opened into a spotless kitchen, filled with marble worktops, black and white checked tiling, and walls painted in deep crimson - the kind of colour psychologists claim will make you feel hungrier. In terms of an escape route for an attacker, it would have been fairly useless. There was a wall to my left which was made up entirely of large square windows, nevertheless they looked out onto the back garden where the party had been taking place - so leaving through them would have revealed you to the various guests. I guessed you could have waited in a kitchen cupboard until there was another chance to escape...

So I started opening all of the cupboards to see if you could fit a pony in them.

It turned out that only one under the breakfast bar would do, and even then it would be a tight squeeze for a small mare.

During the few seconds while I had my head in said cupboard (checking for any stains or fur traces, you understand), the maid must have come back to find me, and was now calling out my name frantically.

"Miss Nocturne? Miss Nocturne!"

"What? Oh - ow -" I bashed my head against the top of the counter, before stumbling back painfully, "I'm in here! Ow..." I hurried out of the kitchen before any of the other appliances could attack me, and fluttered over to Featherlight.

"I... I didn't realize the kitchen was part of the crime scene, miss..." she hissed frantically, her voice unable to rise above a soft whisper.

"Oh, it probably isn't..." I rubbed the back of my head tentatively, "I just thought I ought to take a look..." This seemed to calm her down slightly, which I couldn't help but notice. "It must be difficult if the kitchen's been roped off by the police," I said conversationally, trying to encourage her to open up a bit.

"Oh, yes, but there is a smaller one in the east wing of the house..." She reached into the pocket of her uniform and pulled out a scrap of note paper before offering it to me, "The list of ponies present; as you asked for."

"Thanks," I glanced down it quickly, frowning, "surely there should be more servants? A Summer Sun Celebration party and only you on duty with what... seven ponies to serve?"

"Mr Articulate always dismissed the other staff for public holidays."

"But not you?"

"I stay here as a live-in maid - I am always with the family."

"That's very devoted." I scanned the mare quickly - she was young - too young to have already given up her life to look after one family. Though there are some ponies for whom their job is their life; maybe it was just me who struggled with committing to one occupation. That was one benefit of being a private investigator - the work keeps changing (when you get any). "How many of these ponies would normally be here?" I knew that Bold Enterprise didn't, and that presumably Gently Articulate and Lady Grace both lived here, but the other four?

"Gently Articulate, Lady Grace and their daughter, Perfect Eloquence, are all in residence." She blinked slightly and corrected herself, "At least, they were all in residence..."

"What about the others?" I pressed on, relieved at how willing she was to say something.

"Good Conduct - the late master's son - lives with Pink Diamond and their son Quartz Crystal in a fine town house near the centre of Canterlot." Her eye twitched slightly then - I could have been wrong, or it might just have been her blinking - if it meant something, I couldn't be sure what. "Bold Enterprise co-runs the business, though he lives out at Baltimare to supervise the shipping."

"Okay... thanks for that," I quickly grabbed a pencil from Conundrum as he came out of the study, using it to quickly jot some notes on the paper.

"Will that be all?" Featherlight asked, looking eager to get away.

"For now - we'll have to have a bit of a chat later about what happened last night, though," I smiled reassuringly at the young mare - as a maid she could have seen or overheard something vital while delivering drinks, so we needed her on our side. She gave a quick curtsy and hurried off into a separate wing of the house.

We ducked back under the police tape, taking off the ridiculous plastic covers.

"Did you find anything interesting?" Conundrum asked, pocketing the portable camera he brought to every case.

"I noticed that the blood stains seem to change when they get to the kitchen, like the victim had been dragged up to there, but then left to stumble out to the garden himself." I shrugged my wings, "It could mean a lot; it could mean nothing." I held out the scrap of paper to him, written in neat hoof-writing (apart from my own messy scrawl) with two neat columns - one of the party guests, the other of the solitary maid. "I also got a list of the ponies present. Our murderer could be one of them."

Conundrum took it from me and added it to his saddle bags - a set of dark blue canvas sacks with magnifying glass tabs, in which all of our investigative equipment was kept. He'd had them before I'd joined, but the cutie mark on them was the same as the mare in his photograph, rather than his own crossword cutie mark. They had seen much better days, and had worn rather thin at the bottom where various other fabrics had to be stitched on to try and prevent holes.

"Young Nocturne, I thinks it's time we started interviewing some ponies..."

Obviously, we started with the widow - she was the only one we could find.

"So, Lady Grace, about the events of yesterday evening..." Conundrum sat opposite the mare on a vintage velvet armchair, his note book and pencil hovering beside him in a twinkling aura. I had been relegated to a couch at the side of the room, where I could observe the mare fully.

"Where should I begin?" She quavered, holding a silk handkerchief to the corner of her eye.

"How about at the beginning of the party? I take it that you, your husband and your daughter were already present?"

"Yes, we were out in the garden - myself and my daughter, Perfect, that is - Gently had been in the study where..." She breathed in slowly, closing her eyes for a second.

"We saw, madam - please, continue."

"Bold Enterprise - a good friend of my husband's - was the first to arrive. I heard him come in, but he didn't come out the the garden for a while. I think he must have been visiting Gently first." Lady Grace composed herself carefully, and smiled sadly, "When he came out he said that Gently was just finishing off some work."

"Did you see your husband again that night?"

"Oh, yes, of course!" She frowned delicately. "You aren't suggesting that Enterprise did it, are you? They have been friends and business partners for the better part of twenty years!"

"We have to be careful, madam," Conundrum explained calmly, with a tone far removed from his usual grouchy self. "So what happened after Bold Enterprise joined the party?"

"The rest of the family arrived - my dear son, his wife and my grandcolt. I think they must have come straight through to the garden, because Pink Diamond asked me where Gently was." She brushed a strand of lilac hair from her face and continued. "We were out for some time, after which I believe I went inside to entreat Gently to come out. I think I went just after Perfect and Enterprise had gone for a walk around the gardens."

"About what time was that?"

"Oh, not late - maybe about five or six o'clock..." She raised a hoof delicately to her cheek, but otherwise remained very still. "Gently would not come out, and said that there would be plenty of time to see his family later."

"Would he often stay in his study working for so long?"

"Yes, he had so much work - I hardly ever saw him some days." She raised her handkerchief again, "I... I wish now that I had made - made more of an effort to see him..." Hiding behind the silk, she sniffed in the most lady-like manner I had ever heard. Not much use to me, though - I was trying to watch her reaction.

Conundrum waited for a few seconds, but soon lost patience and continued. "Where did he keep this work? We were unable to find anything in the study."

Lady Grace raised herself slightly and considered for a second, "There was a locked cabinet in the desk - but he never told me where he kept the keys to it. I must say; I never asked - Gently's business was his own, and I had no right to interfere."

He considered this for a second, a hoof stroking his chin thoughtfully while the pencil made a desperate scramble across the paper. Eventually he returned to the timeline, "Did you leave soon after?"

"Yes, I left when Perfect came in - she was in a terrible state and wanted to talk to her father. I thought I ought to leave them in privacy, and return to my family." She shook her head sadly, "They had such an awful row - and, while all families do occasionally argue, Perfect was acting quite rudely to him. I dare say she is regretting it now..."

"Did you see your husband again?"

"I... no - no, not until h-he came out, well..." Lady Grace covered her face yet again as dried her eyes. I felt like telling her that she didn't have to - I'd seen ponies in far worse states over much smaller matters; like Fantasia weeping hysterically on my doorstep when her favourite hair dye was going out of production. "I-I didn't see Perfect again either - she only came back when she heard what had happened..."

Conundrum glanced at me while the lady dabbed at her face. That easily provided a motive and the opportunity to carry out the act - not that I wanted to be jumping to conclusions, but it could fit.

"How long was it, if I might ask, between the two instances?"

"Around an hour?" she sniffed again, but folded her hooves over in resolution, "I was outside talking with Pink Diamond for the whole time, I believe."

"Thank you, madam," Conundrum closed his notebook, which was by now crammed full of notes, "I think that's all we need to ask you. If you would be able to direct us to your daughter, that would be a great help."

"Certainly." She rang the silver bell again. Featherlight appeared and was just leading us away when I remembered something.

"One last thing," I turned to face the widow again, smiling apologetically, "where you were sat outside, was it in view of the kitchen? Sorry, I know it's an odd question."

"Oh... no - no we were sat a little way off. Beneath the willow tree - it has a better prospect of the evening Sun." She frowned, the lines on her face seeming so much deeper. "Why do you want to know?"

"Just helps me build a bit more of a picture, that's all. Thank you." I remembered to bow slightly, and then hurried off after Conny.

We were taken up to the 'east wing' of the house where the splendour relaxed into a more minimalist style, focusing on illuminating the rooms with large windows, rather than the previous fine rugs or colourful wallpapers. The floors were polished wood, the walls an almost iridescent white, and all of the light was reflected back to the unfortunate occupants.

I complained about it the whole way - and it was a long way.

The daughter, Perfect Eloquence, had locked herself in her room as soon as the police left the night before, and was refusing to open the door (with the exception of allowing food in). According to Featherlight this would often happen, and that she would probably 'snap' at us. The way she said it suggested that snapping would probably involve screeching and swearing galore.

"Do you think she was hiding where the key was?" Conundrum asked, trying to get me to stop moaning.

"The key? Oh - you mean for the desk - um, maybe?" I squinted down the hall as I tried to engage my brain, "She could easily not want us to see it, but she might just not know. A rich lady like her probably wouldn't be too concerned with her husband's boring import business. She'd be too busy keeping up with the high-class Canterlot gossip."

"I say they were in it together," Conundrum mused, "and hidden in those art imports they actually shipped over specially trained baby dragons, which were sold out to ponies who needed certain 'jobs' doing. Articulate suddenly had a moral epiphany and refused to continue the trade, but his wife needed the money to fuel her doughnut addiction - so stabbed him in a sugar-high rage."

"No." I shook my head and repeated the word again. Whether it was for his benefit or mine, I couldn't be sure. Ahead of us Featherlight had stopped at the final door along the corridor and was waiting patiently for us to catch up. "Just make sure when we get in there, you don't let your insanity show - it's hanging out a little there." I pointed a hoof at Conundrum's face. I believed there was definitely a deep rooted madness in him, only noticeable during cases. The problem was that I couldn't decide whether I preferred the insane suggestions or the general grouchiness.

"It is vital to make speculations on a line of inquiry, young Nocturne - you never know which will lead you to the right answer."

"But we can at least stick to the facts we know." I mumbled, but signed in acceptance - these wild theories at least livened up the work, "I suppose we'd better get this over with."

Featherlight tapped on the wood gently, raised and ear to it, and called quietly, "Miss Eloquence? There are two inspectors here to talk to you. Please open the door. Miss Eloquence?" There was nothing but silence. A second later we heard the click of a key turning in the lock, and the door fell open soundlessly.

The maid stepped aside to allow us in, shutting the door behind us and returning to her unnoticeable existence.

The bedroom was large and light, something I hadn't expected given the moody nature of the occupant. The walls had been decorated with a pearly light blue paint which complemented the mare's own dark blue mane well. In fact, the whole room had a blue, calming colour scheme. A blue quilted blanket on the bed, a blue woven rug, a three-piece set of two blue armchairs and a blue chaise lounge, and finally a pair of dark blue curtains. Everything that wasn't blue was painted white wood, like a fancy doll house.

The mare herself was sat at a desk, which had been placed at an unusual angle surrounded by the box window, with several crumpled pieces of paper littering the floor. This was to the left of where we stood; the four-poster bed was to our right, and the armchairs were directly ahead in the light of a second window. The wall space between these pieces of furniture were lined by an extensive collection of bookcases - full of books, that is - it would have been weird if she just collected the shelves.

Looking at her, fully in the light, she was a striking mare. Not pretty - not your typically beautiful rich mare - but dramatic and angular, with a presence that couldn't be ignored. Where her mother had been plump and slight, she was tall and slender, with few curves to her silver-grey body. Rather than exquisitely styled, her mane fell in straight sheets, like a waterfall cascading to the floor. A set of icy eyes turned to us with a plain scowl.

"Inspectors? You're not part of the police." She got up and strode over to us, her eyebrows raised mockingly. "You're the mare from last night, the one that tried to help." She snorted. "Fat lot of good that did!"

"I can see where they got your name from; Perfect Eloquence - the finest orator of ponykind." I snapped back, but regretted it immediately as Conundrum glared at me and I covered my mouth with a wing. "Sorry - that was rude, I -"

"Don't bother." She smiled slightly, only using one side of her face, leaving the other side to sag slightly. "It is a ridiculous name - I make fun of it myself." She turned away and took her place on one of the armchairs. "You have some questions to ask me?"

I followed her over, glancing back at Conundrum to see him taking out the notepad. He nodded slightly at me - this was my interview now. Having that power led me to conclude that it was my duty to sit in the other armchair, leaving the chaise lounge for Conny. There was something delightfully amusing about watching an awkward, middle-aged stallion perching uncomfortably on the end of a chaise lounge.

"So, Perfect - can I call you that? - last night, what happened? Could you start from the arrival of Bold Enterprise?"

"Him." She snorted, wrinkling her snout as if she needed to sneeze. "We were all in the garden - well, father wasn't, but he was busy, wasn't he? Featherlight had served us refreshments, and I had Pink Diamond - my sister-in-law - going on at me about the latest fashion of earrings. So you'll understand my enthusiasm when he suggests I show him the new pond we just had put in."

"I've had many encounters with my sister I'd rather have avoided." I empathized, making a mental note that the colt she was referring to must be Bold Enterprise.

"Well, we'd been good friends, you understand, for several years - he was practically my older brother." She laughed, but looked away for a second, out of the window and down to the garden. "So imagine my surprise when he proposed to me!"

"He proposed - what, literally? Down on his knees and asking you to marry him?" I raised an eyebrow, remembering the 'proposal' suggested in the letter.

"Yes." She laughed again. Not from amusement - she wasn't the type to laugh at silly little fancies - but the type of laughter reserved for the nervous and uncomfortable subjects that are easier to laugh at than face properly. "I thought he was joking - he does that sometimes - but as soon as I heard he was serious... I admit, I pushed him into the pond." She grimaced. "Then I went to see my father."

"To refuse him?"

"Enterprise had mentioned that it had been Father's idea - so obviously I wanted a word with him."

"From what we've heard from your mother," I said slowly, "it was quite a loud word."

"I was angry." She stated, looking directly towards me with those icy blue eyes. "You can't blame a mare for shouting."

"But we can accuse her of murder," Conundrum tactlessly pointed out. He readjusted his spectacles and glanced at his notes, "because after this argument you were not seen again until after your father had been attacked. We have a motive, an opportunity, and no alibi for you."

"That's ridiculous." She flashed back to me before facing Conny again. "You cannot be accusing me of murdering my own father!" She waited for confirmation, but when neither of us spoke she sprang to her hooves and began pacing the room. "Not wanting to marry somepony is not grounds for murder!"

I sighed, glared at my employer, and twisted in my seat to face the mare, "Obviously, we have more interviews and research to conduct, but... you have to see this from our point of view - you aren't seen by anyone, you've just had a terrible row, and you're clearly angry - even if you didn't mean to, you might have just... lashed out."

"If you would get your facts straight," she spat, "you would see that between the attack and our argument there was a full hour! During which I was here, in my room, working off my anger." She stomped her hoof down to emphasize the point. "I didn't come down until I heard the screams."

I took a deep breath on behalf of the whole room, hoping to diffuse the situation. "Just understand that while we are going to carefully discover the truth, the Equestrian Police Force and their eager inspectors will also be going over this case. And they jump to conclusions naturally, without having such a believable set of circumstances. I mean - they arrested me on a vague suspicion without any evidence at all."

She nodded, but continued to pace restlessly. Conundrum had packed away his notes, and was taking out his pocket watch. I got up to look, knowing it would be time to leave.

"Speaking of the police..." I trotted over to Perfect Eloquence, "it seems we will have to be leaving now. If you remember anything that might help your defence, please try and contact us." Conny joined me, fully equipped with our investigation bags and his tattered green scarf back in their rightful places. "Would you be able to tell us where we could find your brother or Bold Enterprise?"

"Enterprise is staying here in the west wing," she replied, moving slowly back to her desk, "but my brother should be at his house in town - it's number three on Horseshoe street, right near the centre of Canterlot."

"Thank you for your time, Miss Eloquence." Conundrum said before ushering me to the door. Once out, with the closed door and several meters between us, he looked at me and hissed, "Do you believe her?"

"She never stated that she didn't do it..." I whispered back, "but I'm not sure."

Conundrum allowed a hint of euphoria to cross his face, making him almost manic in the bright sunlight. "You know, we might already have our murderer."

Author's Note

Just a quick word from me; I'm pleasantly surprised with the views of this story - considering it's my first and no doubt has a large area for improvement - so thanks to anyone reading this.

Oh - you might also have noticed that the spellings have changed from the American spellings to the English ones. Google Chrome has finally realised that I'm in fact English, and has changed its spell checker accordingly. I unapologetically refuse to use the American spellings - if this annoys you then, well... tough! I could feel myself dying a little inside every time I had to spell the word 'colour' without the 'u'...

Families - You Can't Choose Them

It was only mid-morning when we arrived at the aptly named Horseshoe Street. It was - as you might have guessed - in the shape of a horseshoe, with one long U-shaped street that left you back where you started if you bothered to walk the whole way round.

We didn't need to walk the whole way round; a certain Good Conduct only lived in the third house along the street.

All of the houses were a uniform dark stone; each with a completely flat face and a door located in the centre of a symmetrical face. They were tall - four storeys high - with a floor below street level you could see behind the railings, with a cramped courtyard reached via some very narrow steps. Above this the first and second floors, with four lofty windows between them. Finally the top floor loomed as two windows peeked out beneath grey slate tiles, arched eyebrows framing them angrily.

The only difference between each was the coat of arms that hung from the doors.

As to be expected, our house carried the same coat of arms as seen at the manor - an unfurled scroll overlaid by two flaring trumpets. Conundrum alighted the stairs first and went up to the door, banging the brass knocker loudly so that it echoed disruptively through the empty street.

It took a long time before anypony came to answer the door.

"Hello there," Conundrum greeted the stallion that had opened the door. He wore a black jacket across his back and had a silver bell for a cutie mark, so I assumed he was the servant. "We're investigating the death of Gently Articulate, and would like to speak to Good Conduct and Pink Diamond. Are they in?"

"Yes." The stallion moved aside to let us in. "If you would wait in there, please." He directed us to a room off to the left of the main hall, closing the door behind us. Leaving the modest reception room, he went off in search of his masters.

"Must be weird having servants..." I muttered, looking around the pleasantly attired room.

"I don't know," Conundrum was over by the fireplace, lifting up random ornaments and sniffing them, "you're a young mare, Nocturne - your parents were probably your own personal servants." He sneezed loudly and put the candle sticks back down.

"Not my mother," I snorted, wandering around the sofas before a painting caught my eye, "we were always her servants - you know, when we first came to Canterlot -"

"The investigators, madam." The stallion opened the door on us, leaving the entrance open for a rather plump, incredibly pink mare. Not bright, girly pinks - rather the deep pinks of rose petals and red wine. Her face was heavily made-up, with crimson lipstick and curling dark lashes, perhaps in an attempt to hide the red rimmed eyes and tremor as she smiled slightly. I remembered that she fainted yesterday.

"Ah, Complex Conundrum, I believe? Lady Grace informed me that she had hired you." She trotted into the room like the thorough-bred that she was, expecting to make a good impression, but failing as she had to keep blinking to clear her eyes. Settling down on one of the sofas like a pregnant dove, she met my gaze and squealed.

"Sorry to startle you, ma'am," I lied. Startling her was the most fun I'd had all day, and it wasn't as if I could help it if I looked slightly demonic. Squawking even louder this time, I flattened down my ears and scowled - she could have at least respected my insincerity by keeping quiet.

"Don't worry yourself about her, Mrs Diamond," Conundrum said, sitting opposite the fragile mare, "she's just an apprentice - you won't notice her at all." He glared back at me, indicating to the ground beside him for me to sit on like an undisciplined puppy. Glancing wistfully back at the other empty spaces, I took my place dutifully like the idiot I was.

"It's not like I did anything wrong!" I hissed under my breath so that only Conundrum would hear.

He ignored me and took out the notepad for the third time today, "So, Mrs Diamond, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you about what happened last night."

"Oh, really? I thought they had already arrested somepony?" She held a manicured hoof up to her mouth daintily, no doubt trying to hide her uncouth habit of biting her lower lip.

"No solid evidence has been found yet," he explained slowly, "and we believe that the wrong pony was arrested - so it's in our best interests to continue the investigation." He waited, realising only after about a minute that he would have to lead the questioning. "So, what happened to you last night?"

"So while my husband was talking to Enterprise, I was talking to my dear mother-in-law about the price of pearls..." I stifled a yawn as Pink Diamond continued to talk. She was probably giving the most detailed account that any witness had ever given in the history of Equestria; the only problem was that none of it was relevant.

"Where is your husband?" I interrupted her - it was a rude gesture, I know, but she had been talking for too long, and with so many short breaks for sobbing, that I was past caring.

"I... oh - well, he's busy working in his office - he's always been busy, but now that he's taken over the business..." She went off on a tangent about the business, and how they'd managed to snag a good deal on a small statue of Celestia, apparently given to a zebra tribespony five hundred years ago. What I needed to do was find Good Conduct.

"Could you tell me where your toilet is?" I burst out again. Conny stared daggers into me, and started to apologise profusely to the dull mare. Thankfully, all of his simpering did the trick, and she tersely instructed me it was the second door along the hall.

Obviously, the first thing I did once I got into the hall was find the stallion who had let us in.

He was in the lounge across from our room, hanging black mourning drapes from the curtain poles. Dust coated his black jacket, but it wasn't just from the heavy lace of the curtains. The whole house was filled with a layer of the stuff.

"Can you tell me where I could find Good Conduct?" I asked, diving into the room when the stallion dropped a curtain pole in surprise. Hovering a few meters in the air while holding up the end of a curtain pole wasn't something I usually had to do during an investigation.

"Oh, thank you, miss." He readjusted his grip, helping me secure the pole back to the wall. It was then I noticed that he was an earth pony.

"Is there nopony else to help you?" I stayed beside him in case the cumbersome drape tried to make another escape from the wall.

"No, I am the only servant employed here." He finished his work before backing down the step ladder he was perched on. Beside it was a pile of black lace, no doubt intended for every room in the house. "You wanted me to direct you to the master of the house?"

"You can just give me directions," I suggested, gesturing to the mound of material, "I can see you're busy here."

"He is upstairs, through the opposite door on the left." He grabbed my hoof as I started to leave. "I should ask you to be careful, miss; he hasn't been himself since the incident."

I thanked the stallion and trotted up the stairs at the end of the hall. The house was disturbingly empty, and seemed to be suffering several years of neglect. Nothing on the outside of the house had suggested this abandonment, but clearly there was something wrong. The way Pink Diamond had gone on about the social circles she liked to move in, it would have taken a lot of money to keep up appearances - but this house didn't seem to be trying to impress anypony.

The second floor was just as empty, with the stairs facing towards the front of the house again after experiencing a twist on the way up. I sidled up to the door I had been instructed to, knocked three times and waited.

No answer came.

Carefully, I hoofed open the door, peering around the opening.

It wasn't a lavish study. None of the opulent reds of his father's adorned Good Conduct's office. There was a desk; the occupant facing the window with his back to the door. Two dark armchairs flanked the desk, sitting behind so that nothing blocked the view to the window. They looked hard-worn, with the threading beginning to wear thin and the stuffing started to show. An ocean of stained wood served as the floor, which had several crumpled sheets on it. The most notable object was the filing cabinet overflowing with documents. I would have to be closer to take a proper look at them.

"Good Conduct?" I took a couple of tentative steps into the office, as if entering a dragon's lair. Actually, that would have been easier - dragons are a seriously misunderstood species.

"Mm? Who's there? Issat you, Hob?" A pair of bloodshot lilac eyes gazed vaguely at me. Yes, this stallion was definitely working hard. Working hard to get drunk.

"No," I came closer, realising that trying to interview a drunk stallion wasn't going to work, "my name is Nocturne, I'm a private investigator. I'm trying to find out what happened last night."

"Nothing I want to know," he muttered, his blond mane falling limply over his eyes as he took another swig from his glass. By the looks of it, whiskey - and not the cheap kind the Night Guard always got their hooves on.

"You don't want to know who killed your father?"

"No," he grumbled, "they can go rot in Tatarus f' all I care." I shrugged an put it down to the drink. The bottle was open on his desk, the seal broken and still lying there, though over half of the bottle was gone.

"So... if I asked you to tell me what happened last night?"

"Nothing happened," he slurred, wiping his eyes with a grubby blue hoof. "It was jus' a silly party, with silly ponies, for a silly event."

"I have to agree with you there," I sighed and glanced at the filing cabinet, which was a lot closer now. I blinked a few times before realising exactly what they were. Bank statements - several in red. So much to be the heir to a successful business, working hard to support his elegant wife and son. "Do you mind if I -?" I pointed at the bottle of whiskey, taking a spare glass I had noticed on the desk.

"Sure..." We raised glasses and I took a swig. It was strong stuff, but I swallowed with a relieved sigh, feeling the liquid burning down my throat. Don't judge me; I'd had a very tiring day - even if it wasn't technically lunchtime yet.

"So, last night - you arrived with your family and sat out in the garden?"

"Yeah," he moaned slightly, but looked up at me and grinned blearily, "least it let me see other ponies than Pinks." I smiled with him, trying to get him to open up a bit more. "But it was dull - everypony wandered off at some point. I got stuck with her."

"She is a bit boring," I empathised, hoping it was his wife we were talking about.

"You should try living with her." He laughed, obnoxiously loud in the way only a drunk stallion can. I took another sip of my drink and tried to remember the timeline we had established.

"So you never left the garden?"

His eyes met mine darkly, sagging under heavy lids. I doubted that he'd slept since. "I went in when he came out - needed to get something - y' know - f' the... stuff - the blood." He buried his muzzle in the depths of the glass, breathing into it like an oxygen mask.

I drained my own drink, knowing I wouldn't get any more from the stallion. Conny was probably wondering where I had gotten to.

"I'll talk to you later," I stood up, checked that my head was clear enough to walk straight, and left, stopping to bump the drunk unicorn on the shoulder in camaraderie. He grunted a goodbye, head resting heavily on the desk. Shutting the door softly, I slowed for a second. Inside I heard the thump of a hoof and the shattering of two glass tumblers. Peering back inside, I saw that he had resorted to drinking straight from the bottle.

Rather than going back Conundrum, I found the servant - Hob - and warned him about the broken glass. He merely exhaled slowly through his nose before nodding.

"Has his happened before?" I asked, praying that the stallion's liver was at least used to coping with so much alcohol. Otherwise there might not be much for me to interview again.

"Mr Conduct has always been a... keen drinker," he phrased it politely, "though he would usually do it socially with his friends over a card game."

"Did he lose much money?" I enquired directly, not being one for euphemisms.

Hob frowned, unused to my coarse language, "I believe that he often lost more than was compatible with his income."

"Debts?"

"I do not believe that is for me to divulge," the earth pony turned his nose up at me slightly, "if you would excuse me, I have some cleaning to do." He turned swiftly from me and hurried up the stairs. So that would be a 'yes'.

"Ah, Nocturne, there you are," Conundrum was just coming out with Pink Diamond, his notepad tucked away and his eyes sagging with the weight of boredom. "I believe, Mrs Diamond, that will be all for now. We may return to speak to your husband when he's free."

"You are welcome to return at any time, Mr Conundrum," she replied sweetly, though her face darkened significantly when she saw me. I could guess that the invitation didn't extend to me. Not that I cared - I didn't think that she was the pony I needed to be questioning.

We let ourselves out, with the servant occupied, and both of us having at least half a brain to work out where the door was. Back on the streets the atmosphere was just as empty, with the whole of Horseshoe Street seeming more like a deserted back alley rather than a street of expensive properties and intriguing inhabitants.

"Did you get anything from her?" I asked dutifully, worrying that Conundrum would fall asleep if I didn't say anything soon.

"Nothing useful," he breathed out slowly like an emptying set of billows, slowing his pace slightly as we trotted, "I take it you weren't surveying their bathroom facilities - and it had better be good; you shouldn't be insulting fine ladies like that."

"She's a suspect, nothing else," I tried to explain, but thought better of it - the unicorn was giving me an evil look, "I found her husband working hard to lose consciousness in a fine bottle of whiskey." I raised an eyebrow and grinned. "So you can probably guess that I didn't get anything. Said he was outside the whole time, anyway."

"Bother," Conny cursed in his bumbling way, kicking a pebble down the street. It span ahead, before getting trapped beneath the wheel of a cart that was trundling by. The cart rocked, though continued on its course - the pebble was not so lucky, and was launched to the side, striking a tough looking stallion in the skull. He turned on his mates and started to make threatening gestures, not realising where the blow had come from. One of the mates pointed over at the pebble, and started searching for where it had come from. I tried to size them up from across the street. I could possibly take two or three of them before they knocked Conundrum unconscious...

"Let's go this way," I said, hastily ushering Conny down a side alley, "it's too bright down there."

After returning to the office to scrounge some food from the kitchen (and plot out a timeline and list of suspects on our investigation board), Conundrum let me have the rest of the afternoon off. Not out of kindness, because it was, in fact, a national holiday - instead he let me go when we ran out of work, telling me to meet him again once the police would have finished for the day so we could return and interview Bold Enterprise.

Obviously, my first course of action was to buy a new pair of sunglasses.

With that matter complete, I decided that this scorching afternoon needed to be avoided with a particularly long nap. As I was trying to avoid my landlord, the best option was to settle on one of the clouds occupying the skies of Canterlot. Unfortunately, there were none out today, and they had a habit of floating off. Canterlot lacked pegasi, leaving the weather teams short of enough pairs of wings to effectively control the weather. Years ago I'd snoozed off only to wake up over what was once the sleepy little hamlet of Ponyville, being jolted awake by the thunderstorm they'd been forecast. The flight back had taken forever, especially while drenched. How pegasi manage to fly while wet was beyond me - I had waterproof wings, but their's would be like feathery sponges.

So I was left to sneak back into my apartment through the kitchen window.

I managed to land while keeping a little more of my dignity, though in no less pain. I'd had aches before, but these just weren't going away. Considering to see somepony about it, I resolved to go once I was no longer under the threat of homelessness. Having cracked ribs before and done nothing about them, I wasn't in a desperate hurry.

Just as I was leaving the kitchen I noticed something out of place. A knife left out on the counter, smeared with peanut butter... I picked it up and dropped it into the sink. Immediately my brain was rushing through the possibilities; who did I know who was mad enough to like peanut butter? I only kept the jar for Lullaby. In addition to this, I only kept my knives at the top cupboard so that Lulu couldn't find them. Fantasia, in one of her few moments of wisdom, like me, despised the stuff. Only she stopped Lulu from eating it at all... So who else could be here?

While I stared blankly at my kitchen, I noted the crumb-strewn plate as further evidence, and - to top it all off - a little velvet bag, perched on my fridge, with a gold bass clef pin glittering on it mockingly.

I needed to fit a lock on that window.

"I wish you wouldn't just come in here!" I shouted, storming out to the lounge. Here, a small, skinny bat pony was reclining on my sofa, her sickly pink eyes sparkling.

"You always treated my house like your own."

"Yes - because I lived there at the time!" I knew I wasn't going to win the argument, no matter how much logic I employed. So I slumped down in the seat beside the mare, huffing loudly. "Why are you here?"

"Why shouldn't I visit my little pup?" She snorted down that pointy snout of hers and flicked her mane from her eyes, "And that's hardly the tone to address your mother with." She scolded, making me feel about five years old again.

"Sorry, ma." I grumbled, crossing my hooves on my chest, staring determinedly at the wall. "But you must have a reason for coming - you never turn up for a sociable chat."

"I heard that you had been arrested." Her tone was conversational, despite drawing her lips so that they turned agonisingly pale. I ignored the warning signs and grunted.

"Oh, that." I shrugged. "Did Fantasia tell you?"

"That's all you have to say?" The pleasant tone disappeared as she turned on me, bringing with her the full righteous power of motherhood, "'Oh, that'? You were arrested for murder, young lady! It isn't even just a little murder - it's all over the papers; 'Gently Articulate, notable business-colt, murdered'!"

"I don't think there is such this as a 'little murder'..." I mumbled, rubbing my hooves together uncomfortably. She was a terrifying mare when she chose to be; which was frequently. She worked as a conductor for the Royal Canterlot Sinfonia, and I had seen grown stallions run out of her rehearsals crying. After you saw them run out, an unmistakeable furry blue blur would chase them out of the theatre until they were on the streets, and then proceeded to throw their instrument at them. Nopony to date has dared sue her for breaking priceless instruments.

"And then I find that your apartment is an absolute tip, with foals' toys everywhere, and a bathroom that probably hasn't been cleaned for several months..." She ploughed on, barely pausing for breath. I sat dutifully until the cascade had abated, tuning out the noises while I considered more productive uses for my time - like napping.

"So what do you have to say for yourself, young pup?"

That phrase snapped me out of my daydream, and I murmured the required offering; "Sorry..."

"Now kiss your mother and tell me what happened." I leaned over and pecked her cheek, feeling her stiffen beside me. "Now, Nocturne..."

"Yes, mother?" I asked innocently, feeling the danger levels rising. She never called me Nocturne; it sounded weird coming from her.

"I thought you'd kicked that habit..." she continued, forming each word very deliberately.

"What ha-"

"The DRINKING!" she screeched, her wings flaring, "The only good thing to come of you leaving the Guards! Now what will I do? An unemployed, alcoholic daughter on charges for murder!" She wailed, putting any tantrum of my sister's to shame. What can I say - I come from a dramatic family.

I tried to calm her. "Look - I have never had a drinking habit, I merely enjoy moderate amounts from time to time." Though, in comparison to what my mother drinks, one sip once a week of watered-down cider would seem excessive. "And I am not unemployed! I'm currently working on the Gently Articulate murder case - I'll clear my name, the agency will get some more work, and I'll clean the bathroom - all right?"

"And the drinking?" She sniffed, looking at me with bright pink eyes a-glimmer.

"Today was a one off, okay?" I sighed, "I needed to encourage a witness to open up. Anyway..." I rounded on her, "why aren't you having this conversation with Fantasia? She drinks far more than I do, and she's got more responsibilities."

"But, on the other hoof, your sister hasn't been accused of murder, has she?" The mare across from me raised an eyebrow mockingly.

"Oh... yeah, I suppose not."

Author's Note

So - I'm afraid this is probably the last regular update to the story. It will continue (I hope), but just not so often. It's school exam season coming up, and I can already feel the nervous tremors and sleepless nights approaching, which means less time writing silly pony fics and more time crying over a textbook - or what I pretend to call 'revision'

Feel free to write/complain/generally waffle in the comments section - it's looking about as empty as my revision notes right now.

Friends - You Should Choose Better

It took far too long to persuade my mother to leave, meaning that, by the time I had finally drifted off into the realm of puffy clouds and manic dreams, my alarm was ringing to get up again. Stupid alarms - I personally thought that Equestria would be a far more peaceful nation if we didn't have them. Ponies should be allowed to sleep for as long as their bodies demand; not when society demands.

Unfortunately, nopony was listening to me in regards to the nature of our social structures, so I had to roll out of bed with a miserable grunt.

I flew across Canterlot in the late afternoon sunshine, my new sunglasses perched resplendently across my snout. I was heading across to the manor house again, knowing that the Equestrian Police Force would have suspended their investigations for the day, allowing us to have a quick chat with Bold Enterprise.

Running late, due to the reluctance to leave the sanctuary of my bed, I was having to fly to make up for lost time. The stiffness in my joints was just starting to recede, luckily for me, especially as I was supposed to be meeting Orion again tonight. It wouldn't have looked good to go along with a pathetic limp, complaining about how sore I was. Unfairly, I knew that he was going to be perfectly fine...

From my aerial position, I could just about spy the little splodge of colour beside the manor's gates which could only have been Conundrum. I could even make out his little scowl - though that could have been my imagination...

I made a steep dive, feeling the breeze rushing against my sides. Squinting against the force, I tried to gauge where I would need to pull up. A sudden gust of wind caught my mane, leaving me blinded temporarily. Shaking myself out so that I could see again, I re-evaluated where I was.

Oh...

A second later, I was spreading out my wings, desperately trying to slow my fall.

It didn't work.

I came to a jarring halt as I hit the merciless ground, feeling as if all the bones in my body had moved an inch upwards from the impact. Remembering my training, I rolled with the crash. Only I didn't get as far as I wanted to, and hit into the soft midriff of a chubby, middle-aged stallion - leaving us both to tumble across the pavement like clumsy puppies.

"Argh! Nocturne, watch where you're flying!" Conny exclaimed as I untangled myself from his scarf - which no sensible pony should ever have been wearing in the summer.

"Sorry, sir - I lost vision for a second up there!" I blinked, wondering why I had flipped back to my Night Guard jargon while experiencing horrible flashbacks to when I had previously said that. Maybe I hit my head back there...

"Anyway, to business!" Conundrum brushed the dust from his coat and pretended that nothing had happened. "I've seen the other investigators leave," he explained, giving the 'other investigators' a slight snarl, "so it should be fine to go in and see Bold Enterprise."

"Hopefully it'll go better than those we did this morning," I sighed, and followed after Conny to the front gate, "I'm not waiting for this stallion to spill out all of his opinions on Canterlot fashions and types of suitable drapery. Even more so if he's complaining about being rejected. I can't deal with whining stallions."

We were led down the 'west wing' of the house, which bathed in the evening sunlight like a beached whale. Unlike the east wing, it was filled with dark, sumptuous rooms; with heavy curtains, Gothic décor, and exquisite redwood furniture. Although I wasn't sure how it could feel so much darker - when from the outside there appeared to be the same amount of windows. Maybe they were fake windows, whose only purpose was as an affluent display of wealth. Rich ponies do that, right?

Bold Enterprise was staying in one of the guest rooms (of which there were many), and had apparently asked to be placed as far away from Perfect Eloquence as possible. It certainly says something about the strength of arranged marriages - or perhaps the stubbornness and pride of certain mares and stallions.

Featherlight knocked for us, opening the door at a barked command.

"The private detectives are here to see you, Mr Enterprise." said the pegasus, giving a little curtsey. Her tail, which was naturally long enough to drag on the floor, was looking rather frazzled by now, having shown ponies about the house all day. When in the presence of Bold Enterprise, it curled nervously around a back hoof, frizzy hair meeting frizzy fetlocks.

"Surely we are done with interviews for today?" The voice boomed back. "Clearly, there is no rest for the wicked!" He laughed at his own joke and trotted over to us. Almost silently, Featherlight retreated back into the hallway, closing the door behind us with a soft click.

"Not until we find out what you've done that was so wicked." I replied, as he gave my hoof a firm shake. Unlike Perfect Eloquence, he had been aptly named - with striking manners, a quaffed mane of scarlet hair, and a coat so white it practically shone - he was the epitome of the fine stallion about town. He must have been a couple of decades younger than his late business partner, so went into the trade fairly young, as I estimated his age to be around the late thirties to early forties.

"Oh - the usual things - stealing an extra biscuit during afternoon tea, drawing moustaches on ponies in photographs, and forgetting to floss." He confessed, flashing a brilliant smile that looked like he never forgot to floss - clearly he was a liar, though that could have been a requirement for any successful business-colt. "So who would you be?" he inquired, refusing to drop my hoof.

"This is my assistant, Nocturne," Conundrum quickly interrupted, taking Bold Enterprise's hoof away from me so that he could shake it himself, "and I would be Complex Conundrum - we already know that you are Bold Enterprise."

"From your unopposed detecting skills, or did you just ask Feather-fright?" He laughed again, while Conundrum and I stood by with faces as bare as a blank-flank. "But, please - just Enterprise will be fine."

"So, Enterprise," I asked as we sat down in the plush velvet chairs, "you arrived first last night, is that correct?"

"Yes," he shrugged, "I wanted to go over some business dealings with Gently before the party started - my train also arrived a little early."

"Where was it that you've come from?"

"Baltimare; it helps to have somepony living out there to supervise the shipping of rare art," he smiled slyly at me, making my skin crawl, "you can't always trust the workforce." He admitted as if letting in on a deep personal secret.

"In your business plans, your betrothal to Perfect Eloquence must have arisen?" Conundrum asked, his quill and notepad already out and filled with scrawled notes.

"Well, yes, it did." Enterprise snorted as his horn lit a bright turquoise and he levitated over a small felt box, "I brought this to Gently, who seemed to think it would at least impress the ungrateful mare, but clearly he was wrong on that count."

"You thought you had a chance?" I asked. Having met Perfect Eloquence, I was surprised that he even believed she would give him a second glance.

"Of course!" He grunted, his pride clearly hurt, "I would never have tried, otherwise." His telekinesis released the little box, letting it fly across the room to disappear behind a cupboard. "I made her an offer that any other mare would have begged for! A fine house, status, and a profitable business that would become mine on her father's death!"

"So you killed him to control the business?" Conny suddenly exclaimed, slamming a hoof onto the arm of his chair - which had far less impact when the chair was covered in velvet.

"Why would I? She didn't accept the proposal, but I still only own half!" Enterprise shouted back, folding his hooves across his stomach, "Gently was a traditional kind of pony - he wanted to pass his half onto his son, so that's what's in his will. I'd only get all of it as a son-in-law!"

"Getting back to the timeline," I insisted, shooting looks at the glowering stallions, "after you saw Gently, what happened?"

He breathed deeply a few times before continuing, his nostrils continuing to flare angrily. "I went out into the garden, and was talking with Lady and Perfect. Good Conduct turned up a bit later with his family."

"Did Good Conduct know that you were planning to take over the whole business?"

"No, not unless Gently told him - Conduct never wanted to run the business anyway, he just relied on the money it supplied to his allowance." He flicked a hoof casually and settled back into his flamboyant demeanour.

"You left the main party soon after, I take it?"

"I was eager to get it done, and I could see Perfect was in need of rescuing from her sister-in-law." He frowned slightly, buffeting his crimson mane with a hoof, "Did you know the useless mule pushed me into the pond?"

"She may have mentioned it," I replied coldly, finding myself also wanting to push him into a pond. To be honest, I was surprised that it had taken until now for somepony to do it. There was something about his nonchalant arrogance that rubbed me up the wrong way.

"Once I'd dried out I went back to the party - Lady kept asking me why Perfect was so upset, but I refused to say - didn't want everypony knowing about it." The unicorn ran a hoof through his mane again, making sure that it continued to fall behind his head like a crashing wave. "So I started discussing business with Conduct, seeing as I'd be sharing the business with him - though I had hoped that there would at least be a few more years before that happened."

"Nothing else happened afterwards?" Conundrum inquired, no doubt having come to the end of his current timeline.

"Yes," he replied, nevertheless he held up a hoof a second later, "no - Conduct did go inside about a quarter of an hour before Gently came out. You understand that we heard a crash from inside - little Feather-fright had dropped something large, expensive, and made of glass - so Conduct went to deal with it."

"In the kitchen?" I hurriedly said, realising that they may have seen the attacker or Gently during the incident.

"Yes, I believe so." Enterprise shrugged again and sighed impatiently, "Have you finished questioning me now? I was doing some rather important business when you came in."

Glancing at Conundrum, I nodded briefly, knowing when we weren't wanted. Conny tucked the notepad back into his bags and thanked Enterprise, telling him that we'd be in touch later if we needed anything else.

Once into the hallway, Conundrum sighed like a satisfied pony at the end of a long day's work. Something I was certain he had never done in his life. "I believe that's us done for today, Nocturne. I think we've made good progress for now - we can start again at the same time tomorrow."

"There's just one thing I want to check first, sir," I muttered, "you can go home - it won't need the both of us. It's just something that Enterprise said... I think it might be useful - you know what I mean?"

"Not at all, young Nocturne," Conny shook his head sadly, "once you've learnt more you will understand how you must structure an investigation of this complexity - but, until then, I suppose I can allow you to chase this random hunch. As long as I can finally put my hooves up." With that he trotted for the exit, while I turned further into the house to try and find the pony I wanted.

I found her chopping vegetables for the evening's meal; some kind of extravagant salad. Her curling mint mane hand been tied back from her face, leaving her mouth exposed as she held the knife between her teeth. Stood at the doorway, I could just make out the slight trembling in her jaw.

"Featherlight?"

"Who's there?" she squealed, dropping the knife which fell clattering to the floor. "Oh, Miss Nocturne - do you need something?"

I trotted into the kitchen (not the one I had seen this morning - it looked more like a place for the servants to have their lunches, now having to become the new base for culinary activity), scooping up the knife she had dropped, I hoofed it back to her. "I'd like to talk to you, Featherlight. I wondered if you might confirm something for me."

"Oh, okay." She sat down as well, knowing that she wouldn't be able to talk to me with a knife in her mouth.

"I think that we've managed to establish a reasonably accurate timeline - there's just one little contradiction." I looked at her, but her eyes had naturally travelled towards the ground. "Did Good Conduct ever leave the garden?"

"I - er - I think he... yes - yes, he came inside," she rubbed her hooves together nervously, as if trying to light a fire, "I dropped the bowl of punch in the kitchen - it made a terrible noise. I think Madam Grace was afraid I'd dropped her bone china plates, and wanted Master Conduct to make sure I hadn't."

I nodded and smiled sympathetically, "It must have been a lot to clean up."

"Oh, yes, it was quite - though Good Conduct was very kind to - um - help me," she returned her own shaky smile, hiding behind the strands of mane that had fallen from the ponytail, "unicorn magic can be incredibly useful at times."

"I can only imagine," I confessed, flapping my own leathery appendages. I must admit - while being a bat pony had its own benefits, being a unicorn looked like great fun. Perhaps, just for a day or two, I could make a pact with a powerful archmage to let me swap for a bit - I could always have traded my soul in, it wasn't like I was really using it at the time.

"Have you spoken to Good Conduct about it yet?" The nervous pegasus inquired.

"I have - but he said he'd been outside the whole time." Her face turned a paler shade as I said that, so I quickly added, "He was drunk at the time - I don't think he quite knew what was happening." I glanced at the mare again, wondering why she would want to know. Something, I couldn't say what, seemed a little out of place. She didn't seem the type to go out of her way to ask a question; especially when the matter was so trivial, so conversational.

"I was afraid that might happen..." her head drooped further as her wings shuffled uncomfortably at her sides, "He never really... knew how to control it..."

"Do you know him well?"

"Well... I suppose we practically grew up together - my mother was the maid back then, and I'd help her out. We were quite close as foals." A hoof drifted to a little silver pendant that lay against her chest, which she slid backwards and forwards on the slim chain it hung on. Peering surreptitiously, I noticed that there was a small inscription on the silver, but couldn't quite make out the lettering. What I could tell was that it was too expensive to buy on any maid's allowance.

"Who bought you that - I take it it was a present?"

"Oh, um, yes - it was a present - from my mother," she quickly explained, as if often having to answer that question. She stopped playing with the necklace and stood up abruptly, "I'm sorry - but - is that all? I'm afraid I do really have to finish making dinner."

"Nearly - I was just hoping that maybe you'd seen or heard something," I rubbed a hoof against my temples before continuing, "seeing as you were both in the kitchen - Gently Articulate would have had to go past it in order to get out to the garden."

"... No, I'm sorry, Miss Nocturne," she shook her head slowly, not quite meeting my gaze (not that she had done so at any other point in the interview), "... I think the door was shut, and we had been talking - I really don't know... I'm sorry..."

"No problem - we'll solve it some other way," I got up as well and shook her hoof, feeling how cold she was, "I guessed that if you had seen something you would already have told me." With that I turned away from the maid, with the knowledge of what I had seen carefully branded into my brain; it was the inscription on the pendant, which somehow seemed important:

My sweetest dove - fly free from me

By now, the Sun had made her grand procession across the sky, and had retired below the horizon, her radiant tendrils no longer reaching out to blind me. In her stead, sister Moon had taken her place; pale light flowing forth like liquid silver. Stars had also come out of hiding, and were making the night sky their palace, and the grounds beneath were their entertainment.

Specifically, I was their entertainment, as I had just entered the outdoor training grounds of the Royal Guard.

"You're late." The voice mocked, as a tall stallion sauntered up to me, his yellow eyes practically glowing in the dark.

"Better late than never." I grumbled, knowing that I wouldn't be able to focus on our training with the facts of the case rolling around my brain.

"Did it take you a while to escape from prison?" Orion smirked, obviously having heard through the grapevine that I had been arrested.

"Oh - I escaped within an hour of consciousness," I boasted, "the only problem is that I now have to solve the damn thing myself."

"But what about your experienced commander? And the Equestrian Police Force?" Orion feigned surprise by gasping dramatically and raising a hoof to his fanged mouth delicately.

"Amateurs."

We trotted over the the equipment stand slowly, having decided that hoof-to-hoof combat was too much effort. Unfortunately, though expectedly, Orion was showing no sings of pain after our last training session - which seemed to prove one thing to me. I was losing my touch. Clearly, spending most evenings pouring over news stories and waiting for Conundrum to ask me to make another coffee was doing nothing for my physique.

In front of us spread a variety of lethal looking objects - several containing spikes, chains, the occasional sharpened blade, and a jar of bottled manticore urine - because that stuff could be deadly to remove from white fabrics.

"It's been a while since we used the maces..."

"There's a good reason for that."

Orion stepped forward and picked up a selection of instruments, weighing each in his hoof. A group of pups had come out into the grounds, led by their own commander. A couple of them pointed over at me and Orion - possibly recognising us from a couple of nights ago.

"It would help if you said why you want to keep doing these sessions - you never explained when you left."

"You sound like you want to stop them."

"No - but why do you do it, Nocturne? Are you trying to stay fit? Convince yourself that you could still be a guard if you wanted to?"

I snorted, "Definitely not that last one!" I hit him in the shoulder playfully, getting an equal blow to the ribs. I gasped painfully, but covered it with a laugh - the longer I left it, the more I thought I'd cracked the rib.

"Excuse me," a low voice hissed, maintaining a dull monotone. I spun around, feeling as if I were being talked to by a snake, only to come face to face with a tall, bony stallion, with a long straight mane that fell like a funeral shroud. His armour suggested that he was the officer in charge of the young soldiers. "My charges seem to think that the pair of you performed a 'death roll' two days ago. I want you to assure them that these rumours are false."

"But they're true," Orion spoke up, "we did."

"Officer Orion," the stallion spoke slowly, drawing out each syllable as he took a step towards Orion, "might I inform you, that due to your duties and responsibilities as a superior officer, you must not play foalish tricks on new guards, and must maintain an outstanding record by not encouraging young mares and stallions to behave dangerously."

I snickered at Orion's supposed authority - having left the guard just before his promotion, I found the rank unsuitable. I remembered the crazy antics we used to get up to - his fellow officers remembered his mature and responsible streak.

Nudging him in the ribs, I murmured, "If he doesn't want them in dangerous situations, maybe they should have signed up for the Day Guard." He didn't turn to face me, but I saw the corner of his mouth twitch in response. No doubt he was recalling the time we trussed the Day Guard soldiers up in bubble wrap and threatened to throw them off the astronomy tower. Princess Luna had refused to punish us until she stopped laughing; she never got back to us with a charge...

"And might I remind you," Orion countered, his lips curling into his signature smile - baring as many fangs as possible, "that as a superior officer, I am fully able to carry out such a manoeuvre. And it wasn't like we were encouraging the pups to do it too!"

The slimy stallion sniffed in that disapproving way, proceeding to glare down his nose at me, "While you may be able to, Officer Orion, I sincerely doubt your companion is qualified. I was never informed that we were giving lessons to the public."

"Ah..." Orion's smile didn't fade as he gestured between the other pony and myself, "this companion would be Nocturne - Nocturne, this is Officer Cadaver. I think you must have withdrawn from the guard a few months before he joined."

I gave a brief nod to the stallion, the grin on my lips curling at the edges into a snarl. With a name like Cadaver, I already knew what his previous employment had been. Unlike Equestrians, we bat ponies are named after the professions of our parents - this way, when living in colonies, you would easily find the pony you needed. Such as in my family, we've been musicians for generations - so my mother Sonata named her two daughters after musical forms; Fantasia and Nocturne. There was no need for a family name, because in a colony you knew everypony already. Whereas Equestria is filled with family names - like the Apples, or the Cakes - with most ponies having two names, instead of the one we're given.

So with a name like Cadaver, I could guess easily what his family had done. After Princess Luna's banishment, most bat ponies returned to their colonies - though some families remained to be employed in certain enterprises, particularly the funeral industry - owing to the Equestrian aversion to death. So Cadaver's family probably lived in Canterlot, for a thousand years or more, running a funeral parlour.

Unfortunately, as you may have guessed, this naming system had fallen down in recent years, as many ponies chose not to follow their parents. If this happens, you're expected to change the names of your next generation to your new profession. So, theoretically, if I ever had foals, they should be named after detective-related themes. Of course, this might lead to a bat pony being called Clue working as a personal assistant to the executive of a toiletries empire - but tradition wasn't about to change any time soon.

"Just because she was once a guard," the kill-joy insisted, "does not mean that she is able to perform such a dangerous stunt; by leaving the Guard, she has retired her skills and training."

"Except that I have continued training," I said indignantly, "and with it I can still do what ever I choose to." I took a step closer, "I'm sorry if our session has overrun a little into normal guard activities - but I've been working all day, and I just want to hit something!" I pressed my snout into his face, smelling the foul odours of sweat and peanut butter - the true signs of an evil pony, "If you want, I could arrange for that 'something' to be you!"

Orion's hoof rested on my shoulder as if to drag me away, but Cadaver butted my head back so that our foreheads were buffeting each other.

"You think you're as good as an actual guard?" he hissed, his voice remaining in a dull monotone, though dripping with enticement.

"I could take you at anything," I hissed back, "except maybe the greasy hair thing - you really take the biscuit at that." I could hear him growl slightly at that comment.

Leaning back suddenly, I ended our initial strutting, leaving him to fall forwards onto his pointy snout; the pups laughed mutinously behind their officer. Dusting himself off angrily, he stomped over to the weapons rack, undoubtedly looking for the most difficult objects.

Orion glanced at me and raised an eyebrow questioningly. I shrugged back, having absolutely no idea how good this stallion was - he could win, I wasn't about to deny it - but I wasn't going to lose without making him regret his words.

I nonchalantly peered at what he had selected, feeling my stomach suddenly plummet to the earth and splatter messily in the dirt.

What he had selected was definitely a difficult weapon, which only the best flyers are even able to consider. Obviously, this might put him at a disadvantage too... but... well, I haven't touched a pair of those since I was in the guard - with both Orion and myself avoiding them on principle. The outcomes had the tendency to become quite grisly.

Holding out a hoof, he offered the object to me with a triumphant grin that could turn corpses in their graves; wing blades.

Trying not to show my fear, I took them - each length of glittering metal - and began to strap them to my wings, fastening the clasps to the spine and leaving the blade to extend from my wing tips. I flexed them carefully, trying to get used to the weight and the altered shape.

The last time these had to be used was in a skirmish we had after the gates of Tatarus were left unlocked - apparently some unicorn forgot to bolt the gate properly after returning Cerberus... So, obviously, the whole of the guard had to go and deal with the problem, only the Day Guard didn't wear the wing blades - apparently they didn't work with their physiology or something. We all declared that they were too much of a big filly's blouse to try.

Not that we had been particularly happy about it either. Each of us had our preferred weapon, with only a select few choosing wing blades. My old friend, Ghoul, had been one of them. I, on the other hoof, never chose them - I was always forced into it. Mainly because I was the best of what was left, and couldn't use anything else very well either.

Looking up, I saw that Cadaver had donned the weapons and was stretching out his wings experimentally - he wasn't used to them either. Curiously, I reached a hoof out to feel the blade - blunt - thankfully, though still painful if you took a hit across the jaw. As well as this, there was the minor problem of staying in the air while your wings are occupied with fighting.

I looked hopefully at Orion, in case he had suddenly thought of a way to get me out of this. A blank shrug and an encouraging hoof-bump later, and I was ready (or at least consigned) to face my beating.

"First to hit the ground?"

"Sure." I spread my leathery appendages fully and took to the air, feeling unbalanced already. They had been designed to be lightweight, and the first designs had been much heavier - nevertheless, they remained feeling unnatural as I hovered, watching my opponent pull himself up to my level. Every ache and pain I had been pretending to ignore suddenly came into full focus.

This could never end well.

Author's Note

Ooo - so what will happen next week? I know, which spoils the fun for me a bit, but that shouldn't stop you from wondering. Will Nocturne make it out unscathed (unlikely), will Conundrum learn how to conduct an investigation (baring in mind that old habits die hard), and will they discover that the murder was in fact a suicide (because why does it always have to be murder)?

Anyway... feel free to leave any constructive criticism, or something!

How To Displease Ponies

The cheers and calls from the pups below seemed distant as we circled each other in the air. Eventually, one of us was going to have to make the first move, but until somepony worked up the courage we were going to stay like this.

We'd been circling for nearly five minutes. I was starting to get dizzy.

Not one to be out of the action, I finally decided that I would make the first move. It was at that very moment that Cadaver lunged, leaving me no option other than to flip backwards and begin my retreat. Not that it was a retreat - more like an advance to future victory. Possibly.

I misjudged a turn, spinning around too fast, catching my opponent's blade with a loud clash. For a second I thought this was a good accident - then I was caught by his second blade as he twirled. Lashing out, I disentangled us. Leaping, I tried to gain height, needing the room to manoeuvre. Looking back, I saw that he had recovered faster.

It would be mere heartbeats before he caught up to me.

Deciding there was enough room, I wrapped my wings around me. Instantaneously, I was plummeting downwards with only the blades extruding from my body. Clearly Cadaver wasn't one for quick movements, as I crashed into him face first. Abandoning the ball, I struck against him with hooves and buffeting wings, preventing him from using his own.

Realising that the sounds beneath us were getting a lot louder, I kicked against his chest - launching myself into the air. There, I tried to pour as much speed into my wings. Being larger and a stallion and a full-time guard, Cadaver was inevitably be faster than me - but that didn't mean he was as agile.

Feeling my rib cage protest, I twisted into various aerial tricks I had been learning since I was a foal. Obviously, with the blades these stunts didn't quite go to plan; but who needed plans?

I closed my eyes and tried to let my other senses take control. Back when I had been fighting as a member of the Guard, I had always found it easier to ignore my eyes when it came to working out where the enemy was - most bat ponies did. So in this state of literal blindness, I carefully listened for where Cadaver was (as well as the ground, the other ponies, and the edges of the training ground).

He was behind me, starting to lag a little. Waiting a few more seconds and his wing beats had altered so that he was merely hovering - no doubt realising that it would be quicker to wait for me rather than play cat-and-mouse. In one quick loop I could collide with him.

So clearly this was the only viable course of action.

Angling correctly, I flipped over on an up-draft, coming at him from above. Here, I opened my eyes, allowing myself to block the swipes of his blades. Like this, we struck and parried blows, each trying desperately to remain in the air. This time, it was he that misjudged a wing thrust, causing him to curve wide. Rather than blocking my own wing (which struck at thin air), the cold metal caught me across the face.

Stunned, I fell back, feeling my eye swelling up already. Disorientated beyond sense, all I could do was plummet as the air rushed past me. First things first - which way was up?

I opened the eye that hadn't been hit and was greeted with a whirl of colours. I timed my actions, extending my wings just at the right second. With that I swooped over the large mass of earth a few yards beneath my hooves.

Having expected me to land, Cadaver was hovering several meters up, watching the spectacle. Upon seeing him, I beat my wings in his direction. The sudden change of course, aided by my prior fall left me hurtling towards him. The impact was too sudden, too heavy, and too chaotic to avoid.

Soon we were both streaking towards the earth, entangled so that neither could free themselves and fly.

I braced myself for the painful collision with the earth. Again.

...

I peaked open an eye, seeing the ground below me, noting that it wasn't getting closer. It also had a strange sparkly blue hue to it now. I felt myself move sideways, released from the confines of Cadaver's hooves and wings. The ground still wasn't any closer.

"I believe that an explanation would be fitting," a voice in front of us calmly stated. Raising my gaze I looked at the speaker; I lowered it again immediately. I was starting to get a strange feeling of deja vu. No - not deja vu - I had actually been in an almost identical situation before. Lucky me.

"P-Princess Luna... I... um..." My face flushed with blood as I hung suspended in the Moon Goddess' aura, wondering how angry she was, and whether she remembered that she still hadn't punished me for the bubble wrap incident. "... I can explain...?" I mumbled weakly.

"Can you?" Her majestic eyebrow raised lightly above her regal eye-shadow, "For I was informed that I may observe the training of the next generation of my Royal Guard, however, I find myself instead watching the crash landing of a senior guard and a pony that does not even serve me."

"Every bat pony serves you, Princess Luna, Protector and Bringer of the Glorious Night - we need not be confined to the Royal Guard." I grovelled pitifully - sometimes it paid off to be a hopeless suck-up.

Silence proceeded my statement, with the Ruler of the Infinite Night Sky giving a refined sniff.

"One prefers if you do not simper quite so pathetically."

"Sorry, Princess..." I hung my head and waited for the inevitable.

"I can explain, O Merciful One!" Cadaver implored, not taking the hint about not fawning over the princess. Seriously - just because they're royalty doesn't mean you have to trip over your pride to kiss their hooves! "For this civilian has insulted the good name of the Night Guard - thus leaving me no other choice than to admonish her for her crimes!"

"I did not 'insult the good name of the Night Guard'!" I protested, glaring at the pony suspended beside me, "He's lying, Princess Luna! I was merely defending my own personal ability-"

"She was bragging shamelessly-"

"-with the same grace and honour as I had when I was a gua-"

"-clearly she just can't accept that she's no longer good enough to be a guard-"

"-but he wouldn't listen-"

"-and-"

We exchanged a mutually murderous glance and declared simultaneously, "They started it!"

"ENOUGH!" The Royal Canterlot Voice boomed. We fell completely silent, like a guilty grasshopper, with only our hearts beating furiously from the flying and the heated debate. I prayed to the stars quickly, hoping that Princess Luna would take my side of the argument.

Behind us, a pup tried to stifle their giggles. At least somepony enjoyed this.

"I do not expect this behaviour from foals, let alone two fully-grown ponies who have both been members of my Royal Guard!" She stared at us with narrowed eyes, as if deeply disappointed with us. "Your actions were incredibly dangerous, and you could have been seriously hurt if I had not been here. I do not want to see you doing such things again."

"No, Princess Luna..."

"Sorry, Princess."

"Good." Her gaze softened as her cheeks swelled with a slight smile, "Now, may I thank you for such an entertaining display." A trace of foalish glee graced her immortal features, "I have not witnessed such recklessness and vigour since the days of old, and I am delighted to see it still exists!" She leaned down to our level above the ground, whispering loudly, "Just do not inform my sister of these activities - we all know what the Day Guard are, do we not?"

"A bunch of fearful, cotton-wool coated butterflies, who fear the very shadows beneath their hooves!" The pups chorused back dutifully, relishing the exclamation. Rumour has it, this chant was created when the Royal Guard were first been established - courtesy of our own imaginative Moon Goddess.

"And the Night Guard?"

"A colony of devoted, steel-hearted bats, who fear nought but the harsh embrace of the Sun!" They replied again, their eyes narrowing as they attempted to appear more fearless and muscular. Some of them managed to appear to be suffering from severe stomach cramps - the rest were not worth mentioning.

"So... you're not mad with us?" I ventured.

"You won't banish us to the Sun?" Cadaver whined pitifully.

"No - I am not," she raised herself back to her full, magnificent height, though tapped a hoof on her muzzle; slowly and deliberately, "however, as a Princess, I feel that it is my responsibility to punish you. Officer Cadaver, you are to spend the rest of my night cleaning these weapons with an amusingly shaped squeaky cat toy - stars forbid that we hear you make a sound."

"Of course, your Highness..." He murmured, uselessly trying to suppress a sigh. The aura around him broke, leaving him to hit the ground like a beached whale floundering on the sand. Cumbersomely, he pulled himself up to find a newly materialised cat toy in the shape of a spider dangling before him. He took it grudgingly and stomped over to the weapons rack.

"As for you," the Princess turned to me, an intrigued spark dancing in her eyes, "are you the pony who was arrested for the murder of Gently Articulate?"

I frowned, wondering why, in the name of the sparkling tails of comets, the Princess would know that. "I was the pony who was wrongly arrested for the murder of Gently Articulate. How do you...?"

"How have I come by this information?" she smiled enigmatically, "I may have seen the dreams of a particular pony working in the Equestrian Police Force - I believe he may have worked as a prison warden."

Oh - that poor colt I punched. I shrugged it off - at least he would remember me, perhaps not for the right reasons...

Actually, that gave me an idea.

"Princess, if you can see into pony's dreams - could you look-"

"Into the dreams of the suspects?" She guessed immediately - clearly she had been asked to do this before. Instead of answering, she just shook her head, "What I see remains between myself and the pony - and do not believe that what I see is reliable. You would not accuse somepony on the basis of a wandering mind."

"Of course not, Princess..." I groaned inwardly - it had been such a good plan, as well! "I suppose we'll just have to solve it properly..."

"If that is what you are occupied with, I believe that your punishment may be deferred," Princess Luna placed me back on the floor gracefully, as well as removing the wing blades from me with a simple flick of magic and tossing them over to Cadaver. "Dealing with the Equestrian Police Force alone deserves a reward - let alone solving a murder case."

"Thank you, O Princess of the Eternal -" She held up a regal hoof to silence me, so I closed my mouth promptly.

"Now, Officer Orion," she turned to Orion, who had been stood so silently I had forgotten he was there. Stirred by the sound of his own name, he looked up blearily and grunted, clearly having nodded off for the proceedings. "One believe that we were going to be able to observe the training of these young Guards?"

"Certainly, your Highness!" He made a quick salute, and led the Princess over to the pups. "I'll see you in two nights?" he mouthed to me, receiving a quick nod and a tired grin.

This had definitely been one of the weirder training sessions we'd had.

Sleep, that night, came accompanied by his rival Restlessness; leaving me stuck in the middle of their dispute, trying desperately to support Sleep, while finding myself drawn towards Restlessness' point of view. Across my mind, fragments of the case danced merrily, trying to invite me to join their party, which was of course being hosted by Restlessness.

Eventually, after telling everypony to shut up and get out of my bedroom, I was able to sink into the embrace of my bed, and other real objects - rather than the metaphors that were trying to explain my mental state. Predictably, this didn't last for long.

With the glare of dawn, I found myself lying awake - exhausted but unable to surrender to the sleep I wanted. Accepting defeat by my own body clock, I tumbled out of bed and lay on the floor, moaning about the pain in my ribs. The night's exertion certainly hadn't improved the pain. I considered seeing my doctor.

Making the excuse that I was too busy to go this morning, I dragged myself into the kitchen, hoping that the milk hadn't gone off yet. It had - typical.

After emptying the rancid milk away and chucking the carton into the bin, I made some toast and coffee. Having worked for Conundrum for so long, I'd adjusted to drinking my coffee without milk. The risk of poisoning from the milk he kept was too great to leave it to chance. I didn't enjoy my coffee as much, and sometimes the bitterness made me sneeze, but I hadn't ended up in hospital with food poisoning, either.

Even after pottering about the kitchen, I was still half an hour early to even consider leaving the apartment. Desperate to not spend any longer in here than strictly necessary (every second passed increased the chance of my landlord or one of my family members turning up), I decided to make it down before Conundrum - there was always the possibility that I might make more progress alone.

I left via the kitchen window, realising with creeping dread that I only had today and tomorrow to earn the rent money. Would the case be solved before then? I couldn't be sure, and it would be cheeky to ask Lady Grace to pay us already, especially when we barely understood what had happened.

As I flew, I considered our options. Neither Lady Grace or Pink Diamond seemed to be of note in terms of actually murdering him - they were both out in the garden, and several ponies had seen them. Bold Enterprise, unfortunately, had an alibi - and his motive would have been flawed anyway, seeing as Perfect Eloquence had refused him.

So who was left? Good Conduct, Perfect Eloquence and... oh - Featherlight. Good Conduct's story didn't quite match, so he needed to be confronted, preferably while sober (him and me both). Featherlight wouldn't hurt a fly (to coin the phrase), and the pair of them both had alibis for each other. Not that everypony had to be telling the truth. Blaming the discrepancy in Conduct's story entirely on drink wouldn't be wise.

The obvious route would be to accuse Perfect Eloquence - the angry daughter - but it seemed too obvious. To commit a crime like that, it would need to be on the spur of the moment; so with almost an hour between her being seen with her father and him being killed - it just didn't make sense, unless we were only seeing half of the picture. Having never named the attacker, Gently Articulate must have been devoted to them if he never tried to name them - or he didn't know them.

Oh - I don't know!

"Hey! Watch where you're flying!" A voice behind me screamed, pulling me back to reality. Their wing clipped mine and I was sent spiralling. Luckily the trajectory wasn't too wide, so I managed to right myself quickly. I cursed the stars for my recent luck in the skies.

"Watch out yourself!" I called out, but the retreating figure either didn't hear me or was ignoring me. Apparently, they hadn't suffered the impact of the collision, and were flying through the upper floor window of a house close beneath me.

I blinked and looked again. In my state of mental distraction, I hadn't realised that I was already in the right district of Canterlot to find the house. By the star-sprinkled night - that pegasus had just flown into the exact house I was going to!

A wild assumption blossomed into my brain. I put on a burst of speed and tore after the pegasus. Because - well - that could be our outside source, the missing piece to the puzzle; possibly even the murderer, returned to gloat. Why else would they enter surreptitiously through a window?

I landed on the roof, praying to that nopony would notice me lurking there. It would have been the perfect excuse for the Equestrian Police Force to lock me up again. Hopping lightly, I landed on the top of a box window, peering over into the room my assailant had entered.

That wasn't what I was expecting.

The room, which I had seen before, looked almost exactly the same - the blue furniture, the blue walls, the blue carpet - but there was something there that wasn't blue. A small, tired looking pegasus was now standing on the desk, which had been pushed into the alcove of the box window. Her light brown coat and sandy yellow mane made her look like a camel, if you pretended a camel had wings instead of humps, with a close-cut mane and tail, short and disarrayed.

All of these details, however, were a second thought. The glaringly obvious change was that she was kissing Perfect Eloquence.

I pulled my head back up, feeling myself redden guiltily, even though it was unlikely I'd been seen. So there was her reason for refusing Bold Enterprise. The nature of this pegasus' arrival certainly suggested that her family were unaware - unless lovers usually sneak into the house, even when invited.

Lowering myself on the box window, I placed my ear close to it, wanting to hear but not be seen.

"-must have flown half the night, Dusty!" That was Perfect Eloquence's voice, clear and earnest.

"I came as soon as I got your letter - I wasn't leaving you here like this, Petal." This 'Dusty' had slightly higher voice, though it managed to sound harsher and naturally hoarse.

"I just - didn't know who to talk to," Perfect said by way of apology, "without Father, and with my mother playing the distraught widow - the only other pony would be Featherlight, because there's no way on this side of Tartarus I'd go to Enterprise!"

"You should have told him you already had a filly-friend," I could practically feel the cheeky grin emanating from Dusty, "I'd have flown the length of Equestria to see his face!"

They shared a heart-felt laugh. Perfect spoke quietly then, leaving me unable to hear. I think there must have been a moment of silence before I heard the next voice.

"Nopony saw you come in?"

"Doubt it - I travel too fast to be seen." A pause was followed this. "I bumped into somepony on the way - but they'd have to be in the Wonderbolts to come out of that spin and see me." I smiled, feeling my ego swell - perhaps not the Wonderbolts, but pretty close.

Hooves clomped on wood before being followed by a thunk - I assumed this was Dusty jumping off the desk. There was a flutter of feathers and then the voice asked, "So what now?"

"I don't know!" Perfect replied, snapping slightly though sighing afterwards, "They all think I did it."

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!" Dusty must have stomped her hoof down, followed by the regular beats of pacing. "You'd have more reason to kill Enterprise than him!" The pacing stopped, with the pegasus adding, "Though maybe its just me who wants to kill Enterprise..."

"Dusty, don't joke about this! They'll arrest me - they've got enough evidence."

"Okay, all right - I'm sorry," feathers fluttered in what I could only guess was a hug, "so what will we do?" Silence proceeded the statement, punctuated only by a bird coming to rest on the window beside me. I glared at it, as if it had invaded my territory, but it just blinked back and began preening under its wing. I blew at the bird, as if it was a flame I could extinguish. All it did was chirp back gaily and hop a little closer. Stupid bird.

"We could always go now..." Dusty suggested.

"What - today? I want them to find the real murderer, not make myself look even guiltier!"

"If they'll arrest you anyway, it doesn't seem like you've got much of a choice."

"I can at least hope they'd be a little bit competent - rather than give up entirely!"

"You want to go, don't you?"

"Of course I do! Just not like this."

I shifted my weight slightly, trying to get more comfortable on the downwards slant of the roof. The bird seemed eager to keep me company, and was practically ready to jump onto my hoof, myself having given up on trying to get rid of it.

Pressing my ear back to the tiling, I tried to work out where it was they were going. Unfortunately, lovers' tiffs rarely make sense to outsiders, and I wasn't following. It could have been something as simple as leaving to where ever Dusty lived, or as extreme as travelling the globe. Obviously, I didn't want it to come to her leaving - there were still questions to ask, and the police would definitely jump at the chance to accuse her of murder.

It was then that I noticed something on the corner of my vision. It shone malevolently in the morning sunshine, each colour of its wing blinking vindictively as it flapped its wings. Every movement it made seemed carefully planned and deliberate. Our eyes locked and I could feel the cold sweat creeping across my skin. Panicking, I attempted to slow my breathing. In through the nose - one, two - out through the mouth - one, two, three - wait and repeat. My plan failed when the garish creature took to the air, careering towards me.

Hysteria took me, insisting that I shuffled backwards. I had to get away. It would be on my face in seconds.

I squealed as quietly as possible. I couldn't disturb the rowing couple - not like this.

A hoof slipped from under me, missing the roof and going over the edge. The other three hooves insisted that we continued to go backwards. Flapping my wings desperately, I tumbled over the edge of the roof.

A split second later and I was wrapping my tail around the drainpipe. My back hit the window with a dull thunk, but I managed to stay upside-down above the ground. Above me, the drainpipe groaned in protest.

For what felt like an eternity, I waited as the butterfly flew over me, showing off its gaudy colours. With almost mocking actions, it twirled around in a victory dance before fluttering down towards the garden.

Immediately after it left - damage done - the window burst open behind me and I was dragged bodily into the room. Wings scraped across the window frame, my rib cage twinged with pain, and I was left flat on my back on the top of the desk. My head lolled over the edge, allowing me to observe the upside-down faces of two very surprised, very angry mares.

Grinning weakly, I offered, "I can explain?"

Confessions of an Over-Enthusiastic Detective

"Explain what? That you're stalking my filly-friend like the creep you are! You'll wish you'd never crawled out of your cave before I'm finished with you!" This was Dusty screaming at me, pressing her beige snout into mine. This was all rather awkward, considering that I was still upside-down, and that my sunglasses had nearly fallen off. Suddenly, I was glad this house was so big - nopony would hear her screaming. However, that did give rise to the small problem that nopony would hear me screaming either...

"I know her, Dusty - let her get up."

"You know this creep?"

Perfect had the grace to pull Dusty away from me, letting me roll over so that the word was right way up again. Stumbling off the desk clumsily, I wondered when all of the blood would leave my head and let me think straight.

"Sorry - about that - there's a butterfly on your roof -" I started, rubbing a hoof over the back of my mane nervously.

"Just because I don't want you beaten up doesn't mean I'm not angry!" Perfect interrupted, stepping up to me, eyes ablaze, "I understand that you're investigating - but spying on ponies? I thought you were at least the most competent!"

"I wasn't there to spy on you!" I insisted, wondering how that statement would ever be believed. I was only sat on your roof, listening to you talking - but it wasn't you I wanted, honest! I could hardly believe it myself. "I saw that pony fly into the window and thought it might be a clue!"

"Wait - is this one of the investigators?" Dusty asked, but was ignored by the rest of us.

"Well, clearly it isn't!" Perfect shouted back, "Nocturne, meet Dust Trail - my filly-friend! The only pony in Equestria who seems to believe I'm not guilty!" Her hoof prodded my chest as she advanced on me, "Maybe you'd like to tell my mother, hmm? Or document it in this stupid case - like-like it's something important?"

"Honestly?" I smiled in an attempt to disarm the situation, holding up a hoof in surrender, "I thought that your friend Dust Trail was the murderer come back to gloat - so in everypony's best interest I thought I should follow her."

"You thought I was the murderer?" Dust exclaimed.

"You did just say you wanted to kill Bold Enterprise."

"Oh, yeah - wait - you heard that?"

"Enough!" Perfect rested her head on a hoof, as if nursing a particularly persistent headache. Sheets of hair concealed her face briefly. "Clearly you've found out that Dusty isn't the murderer, Miss Nocturne - so why don't you leave us alone and go pester somepony else?"

"But I have so many more questions to ask you now," I replied, settling onto my backside on the floor, not intending to leave until I was finished, "like where you were going to go, how and when the two of you met, and why do you -" I glanced meaningfully at Dust Trail "- have a grudge against Bold Enterprise?"

"I though everypony had a grudge against him," the pegasus answered, raising her eyebrows innocently as her mouth curved confidently, "but if you want details it's because he's a stuck up, arrogant mule who just asked my Petal to marry him." I noted that Perfect's cheeks glowed with a slight blush at the nickname.

"Anything else?"

"He was an awful boss with no morals."

"You worked for the company?"

"How else do you think I met Petal?" She had a slightly sarcastic streak, which leant her towards being rather unpleasant - but perhaps Perfect enjoyed the lack of niceties. "I found the rarest of art and shipped it over. Should have been paid more - the work was dangerous enough."

"You quit?"

"Couple of years ago," she said after a moment's deliberation, "I started making a fuss over the business so he fired me."

I smiled, finally thinking I was getting somewhere, "So the business practises weren't exactly legitimate?"

"You can say that again." Her eyes narrowed conspiratorially. "I don't care much for you detectives trying to frame Petal, but if you could get Enterprise's name muddied up a bit I'd be grateful. When I complained about the Exclusive Collection nopony paid me a hint of notice - 'cause I was just some low-class dirt on a fine business pony's suit. But maybe they'd listen to some fancy investigator."

"So what's wrong with it?" I would never let bias get in the way of the facts, but I had to admit - Bold Enterprise was the only pony I really wanted to accuse of anything - even if it was just littering.

"The art I shipped over was usually stolen from ancient tombs - and I know he had some ponies nicking things from foreign museums - that's why most of the company's foreign workers are ponies like me who know their way around a jungle or two."

"This is all very Daring Do," I mused, but I could believe it - I'd done some travelling myself, and the illegal art trade, while still maintaining a low profile in Equestria, was a booming business, "Dust Trail must have told you this, Perfect - but you told me yesterday that you still thought of Enterprise as an older brother - surely this should have shaken your faith in him?"

"I... this is a bit of what you might call a touchy subject between us," Perfect said slowly, eyeing her mare-friend, "I could hardly disgrace the practice when I knew my father was running it too, but that doesn't mean I agree with it. I wasn't about to start publicly speaking out against my family - I can disagree with them in private, but I'm not pulling them apart over their little art trade."

"Is that why you didn't want them to know about Dust Trail - because it might disgrace them among the bourgeois?"

She had the grace to wince as I said this, but nodded slightly in reply. Dust grimaced beside her, but didn't argue with it. They had probably had this discussion before.

"So, my final question - where were you thinking of running off to?"

Perfect snickered at this, "We've been planning it for about a year now - and Dusty says that the season is coming up soon."

The pegasus grinned and spread her wings slightly, "I've got a fair bit of experience in tracking wild creatures, and Petal here's well versed in more languages than I knew existed -"

"-so we wanted to track the dragons." Perfect finished, grinning with a sense of pride. For the first time, I glanced at her cutie mark - a speech bubble with a paw print in it - and smiled.

"Sounds fun - dragons are great," I added. Bat ponies and dragons had a long history of loyalties, considering that we had shared caves together for generations; so where most ponies knew practically nothing about dragons, we bat ponies considered them to be great room mates. So long as no one set the cave on fire - there were always conflicts over the fire-breathing thing.

"I'm not trying to run away," Perfect explained, "I want to clear my name - but nopony seems to believe me."

"I do, Petal."

"And I think I do too," I said slowly - call it what you will - but I didn't think she was guilty. It had happened on a couple of cases before - though never anything as serious as murder - where I had known that it wasn't somepony. Maybe it only happened when my special talent decided to show up and help me, because what use was a special talent in observation, perception, and intuition when it didn't help you observe the most important clues? It was due to my vague cutie mark that I joined the Night Guard - I thought it might give me time to figure out what I could use it for.

"You... you're agreeing with me?" Perfect stuttered, disbelief etching her features.

"Don't sound so surprised that I'd believe the truth - unless you're lying; then I might have to stop believing you." I smiled at her relief, but felt my stomach sinking in dread. "But that does leave me with the problem of having to find the real murderer." In two days, I thought to myself. With Perfect ruled out for now, I wasn't sure which lead would even bring me to a murderer. There was still the possibility that the murderer hadn't been invited to the party.

Nevertheless - there was that one pony...

"I might speak to you later," I said, moving backwards towards the window - I had no desire to squeeze out of there again, but somepony might be a little surprised if they saw me wandering around the house without being invited in first, "don't worry - I won't tell them that you're here." Dusty gave a lopsided grin in response as Perfect nodded appreciatively. With that, I hopped onto the desk and dropped out of the window.

The butterfly was thankfully nowhere to be seen, so I soared over the house to the street below. As usual, Conundrum was already there, tapping a hoof impatiently.

I managed to make a slightly more graceful landing than yesterday, putting a few yards between myself and the chubby stallion. I couldn't hold back the wince as I felt my rib grind painfully on touch-down.

"Can't you arrive anywhere on time, young Nocturne?" Conundrum complained. "It's highly unprofessional."

"I - um - actually got here early," I stated carefully, deciding if I should tell him what I'd found out, "I just got preoccupied. We mustn't tell the family - but Perfect Eloquence seems to have a rather energetic mare-friend."

"A mare-friend?" Conundrum rolled the word around his mouth as if he'd never needed to say it before. "So they were in on it together; the father catches them together - Miss Eloquence screams - her mare-friend acts on impulse - suddenly there's a bleeding stallion who won't dare to name his daughter as the murderer!"

"Well - he wouldn't name his daughter as the murderer if it was her partner who stabbed him." I frowned, rethinking my answer. "Actually, he'd never have called her a murderer - not being dead at the time."

"But you understand how it could happen?" Conundrum urged, his eyes glittering. "After being proposed to, Miss Eloquence contacts her mare-friend and tells her what happened. At that moment Gently Articulate comes into the room to check on his daughter after their argument - sees them together. It is entirely possible!"

"Except that he was stabbed in his study," I dead-panned, "so unless they agreed to meet there, while he was already in the room, they could never have been walked in on by accident." Shaking my head, I sighed weakly; things were going downhill when I started trying to reason with Conundrum's maddening speculations.

"You can't rule anything out, young Nocturne," Conny chided me, "speaking of which, I believe it's time we interviewed the maid - she might know something valuable."

"I did that yesterday," I confessed, "after you left. And she did tell me something useful - Good Conduct went inside soon before Gently Articulate was stabbed, she says that he helped her clean up something she'd dropped." I smiled slyly. "Which is funny, because he claimed he never went inside."

"So we interview Good Conduct?"

"I was wondering if I might go alone..." I felt Conundrum beginning to glare at me disapprovingly. "I also found out this morning that the Exclusive Collection isn't entirely legal, and if you could find the key into that draw... because, you know - it might have some incriminating things inside." I looked up, not realising that I had been staring at my hooves like a naughty school-filly, "... it was just a suggestion..."

Conny observed me in that reproachful, distant manner, wrinkling his nose while his eyebrows narrowed inwards. "Why are you in such a rush, Nocturne? ... We could easily do both things today..."

"I - er -" My hooves shuffled nervously. Should he know the truth? Would it make him work faster? The last time we mentioned the problem of money he stopped talking to me... "I only have until tomorrow evening to pay my rent..." I admitted, "and if I don't pay it I'm out on the street. No more chances."

"... Stupid mare."

"Sorry, sir."

He put a hoof to his chin, thinking carefully - or trying to teach me the meaning of patience, I could never be sure. "I have an idea; you will interview Good Conduct, I will search for that key and interview the maid - again - to see if she has anything else to say, and we will meet back at the office at twelve. Agreed?"

I nodded gratefully, "Sure thing, sir."

With that, Conny straightened his scarf, rearranged the saddlebags and trotted smartly up to the gate. I flexed my wings and took to the air again - wanting to make it to No. 3 Horseshoe Street before Good Conduct could have the chance to get drunk. I also had no intention of going through the front door again, especially if that would mean talking to Pink Diamond for the next two hours of my life. I didn't have enough time to waste on pointless activities.

It wasn't long before I was coming over the street, but instead of lowering myself to ground level, I located the office window I had seen on my previous visit. Sure enough, there was a blue unicorn sat there, his blonde mane even more dishevelled than the day before. His back was to me, so I soon changed that by tapping on the window with a hoof, waiting as he turned at the obtrusive noise.

All colour drained from his face, leaving him like a ghost. His mouth stuttered weakly as he toppled off his chair. A foreleg reached out, trembling as he pointed at me.

Clearly he was already drunk. Or he hadn't sobered up yet. For all I knew, inebriated could have been his natural state.

Well, I had possibly been a bit too optimistic about that.

I tapped on the glass again, indicating to the latch in the hope that he might drag himself over to open it. I grinned, too, though it probably had the undesired effect of making me look more demonic than friendly.

"Could you let me in, please?" I mouthed, trying to balance on the window ledge. He didn't move an inch, but wavering magic flared from his horn and the latch moved so that the window could swing open. I alighted from my precarious ledge and entered the room. Immediately, I was hit by the alcoholic fumes.

Bloodshot eyes stared at me, like prey watching the predator.

"It's alright, you know," I sat down next to him, "we met yesterday - I'm Nocturne - the private detective. We shared a nice whiskey together." I didn't mention how much it annoyed my mother.

"Excuse me," he muttered, staggering to his hooves, "I don't usually get visitors at the window." His breath didn't smell particularly alcoholic, but with the entire room doused in the smell, it was difficult to be sure. Nevertheless, upon closer inspection, the red-rimmed pupils seemed to be due to a lack of sleep and a cruel hangover rather than an early morning drink.

"Sorry - I seem to be making a habit of it today," I moved around the desk so that I was facing him properly. He hauled himself back into his own chair with a relieved sigh. I remembered what I knew about the stallion; he had debts, he didn't like his wife, he relied on the Exclusive Collection for money, he had a colt... and he was foalhood friends with Featherlight. Nothing stood out as a motive, unless he knew that Bold Enterprise was planning to take his place as number one son.

"Nocturne, did you say?" His accent was more refined without the tipsy slur, and could even have been considered charming if you couldn't see the state he was in while he spoke. "What do you want to know?"

"Yesterday, you told me that you never left the garden during the party. Except," I added, "when your father came out. You claim to have tried to find bandages and things to stop the bleeding."

"I did." He cradled his head in his fetlocks, groaning painfully.

"I don't think you told me everything."

He didn't answer for several seconds, leaving me to think he hadn't heard me. Eventually he did speak up, saying, "You already know what it is."

"I want to hear you tell me," I insisted, not wanting to lead the witness.

"... I was inside with Featherlight, in the kitchen..." He took a breath, not meeting my gaze. "She - dropped something - Mother sent me to see what it was..." He shook his head guiltily, "... I don't know what happened..." His voice broke, but no tears formed, "I never even saw him through the door..."

"Because it was shut..." I finished, shaking my own head in frustration - his story matched Featherlight's. I could hardly blame him for leaving it out yesterday when he was drunk. I glanced up at him. He was blinking blankly, but appeared to be completely genuine. Why did nopony see anything? If everything ponies had told us was true, then Gently Articulate would never have been murdered in the first place. I jumped to a conclusion; suicide!

...Or, you know, somepony was lying...

That was a lot more likely...

Everypony that was outside would have perfect alibis, Good Conduct and Featherlight had each other to vouch for their activities, which left only Perfect Eloquence... So unless the whole garden party was in on an intricate plot to murder him, and frame Perfect for their actions, or Good Conduct was covering for Featherlight, or Perfect was just lying and didn't plan her murder properly, then it must have been an outsider.

Good Conduct, whom I may have forgotten about for a few minutes, had a face that had become several shades of oblivious. His eyebrows didn't seem to want to stay in place, constantly rearranging themselves while his mouth stayed open, ignored for the time being while his brain considered more important matters.

"Do you know anypony who would want to kill your father?" I asked, knowing that if I were a better detective I'd never need to ask witnesses a basic question like this, and would instead have documents to prove he had a long-standing grudge against his second cousin, twice removed, due to the inheritance of an unknown, rich great-uncle.

"No... nopony would want to kill him..."

I sighed and stood up, "I'll be leaving now - but if anything comes to mind, I'd appreciate the help."

He nodded back, his flop of blonde hair bobbing up and down. Through force of habit, and the fear of meeting his wife, I alighted out of the window, soaring into the mid-morning sky.

It was too early to meet Conundrum back at the office, and I wanted to keep an eye on him, in case he glossed over an important detail. With that in mind, I made my way back to the manor house.

What we had forgotten to count on today, was the fact that the police investigators would also be there. So as I landed at the front door, I came face to face with the same investigator who had arrested me. His ginger moustache wriggled disapprovingly on his upper lip as his eyes narrowed; they fixed on me like an over-eager searchlight.

"What are you doing here?" He sniffed and looked me up and down, his icy assistant loitering at his side.

"Proving my innocence?" I smiled, in what I hoped was an endearing gesture, and slid around the side of them, "I'll just leave you to your important work, and-"

"I've just found this pony snooping through the crime scene." A voice behind me drawled, and I bumped into something soft and squidgy. Looking around, I saw Conny dangling in the telekinetic grip of a burly police pony.

"Ah - Conny, so good to see you again," Classic Corduroy sneered, "is your little detective agency trying to solve this crime too?"

"I'll have you know, Corduroy, that we have been employed by the lady of the house to do a better job than you." Conundrum boasted, puffing out his chubby chest. I inwardly shook my head - this could never go well.

"So what have you found out? That it was definitely Gently Articulate that was murdered?"

"Why - do you need some clarification?" I snapped back, drawing his attention. "And for your information, we believe that it may have been suicide - we have evidence to back it up." Conny glanced at me, so I flashed back a 'trust-me' grin and turned to the berry-splodge of an inspector.

"Well, we think that it was all part of a complicated pyramid scheme," the frost coated assistant shot back, "and are nearly ready to name the culprit!"

"Culprit? You mean culprits, right? We've already established that several ponies would have been involved."

"I thought you said it was suicide?"

"It's not just the action of one pony which leads to suicide."

"Don't even try to pretend," she smirked, "you've no experience to deal with a crime of this scale. I bet you don't even know what the murder weapon was."

I didn't say anything immediately, and instead took my time to ease a confident smile across my muzzle.

"Neither do you."

It was her turn to stay silent this time, simmering with quiet rage after being beaten by the better pony.

"Face it, Conny," said Corduroy, "we will solve this before you - a few more facts and we have our murderer. I'm surprised that even you haven't figured out who it is yet." With a nod of his magnolia head, Conny was dropped on the floor. "Now get out of my crime scene before I have to make you to leave."

"We'd know who it was before you could even realise that the sky's blue!" Conny called over his shoulder as we were forcefully pushed towards the gate. I dug my hooves into the ground and spread out my wings, trying to make the stallion's job as hard as possible. Conny had employed a similar tactic and had successfully tangled his police pony up in his scarf. As his tripped over, and I pushed mine off with a painful buck, we left the manor with grace and dignity.

Author's Note

Just a quick word from me - I hope I haven't made this all too straight forward, or that murder isn't making sense - so I apologise if it is any of those things or something in between. It is my first murder mystery, so I'm not too sure how to structure it - but I should improve over time, so as long as you don't mind being a bit patient, this should all work well.
Feel free to give me any points for improvement.

Beyond The Crime Scene

Inevitably, we retreated back to the office to compare notes.

In the harsh light of day, the house looked even more run-down. The rays of the Sun glared into the cracks and chips of paint, illuminating every flaw and imperfection. At least at night you could pretend it was haunted by the ghosts of neglect. Now it just looked sad and diminished, like a forgotten pot of stew, left to boil dry.

Once inside, I removed my sunglasses - it was easily dark enough not to need them - and even if it had been a bit bright, I really didn't want to see the full extent of the mess. Rubbish and other unidentifiable objects were crumpled beneath my hooves as I shuffled towards the coffee and mugs.

The kitchen was in an equally atrocious mess, and had become too unhygienic even for the cockroaches. With that in mind, I boiled the water thoroughly before tipping the scalding liquid onto the instant coffee granules. A teaspoon of sugar for Conundrum, and a plain black coffee for me.

Taking the mugs in the hooked thumbs of my wings, I waded back through to the office. My boss had managed to pull out our pin board into the middle of the room, and was adding what precious little information we knew. Leaving the coffees on a desk, I came over to observe the display.

Having never investigated a murder before (though maybe Conny had, and chose not to tell me), I had very little idea of how to go about this. String had been pinned between the suspects, each of which had been constructed from a cartoon drawing coloured in with crayons, with the relationships between the ponies tied to each section of string. A timeline had been also jotted out and stuck up. Photographs of the crime scene gathered in one corner of the board, taken on our first day of investigating. Possibly, if we had known it, the murder weapon would have been pinned up too. As an awkward compromise, the unusual blood trail had been photographed and joined its fellow images.

"So, young Nocturne, what did you find out?" Conundrum asked, as he levitated out another piece of string.

"Not much - just that both Good Conduct and Featherlight were in the kitchen when Gently Articulate was stabbed." I sighed and took a swig of liquid fire. "Both their stories are the same."

"Yes... she told me that..." He took out a quill and noted it onto our timeline. "Would you draw out Perfect Eloquence's mare-friend?" Dutifully, I snatched a crumpled sheet of paper, gripped a pen in my mouth, and drew out the vague outline of a pegasus. With this complete, I rooted around for the crayons - which had been scattered around the room - and filled in the outline with yellow and brown. Conundrum took this and placed it beside the sketch of Perfect, connecting them via string.

Moving up to the board, I made a length of string link Dust Trail and Bold Enterprise, labelling it with ex-employee and ex-employer. Noticing my hoof-work, the unicorn settled onto his haunches to view the whole picture.

"I also found something else," he explained slowly, levitating over his own mug, but not taking a sip, "I went back to Articulate's office and tried to open that draw - the one with all of his work in - and managed to unlock it." We both smiled gleefully at this; Conundrum due to professional pride; myself delighted to hear that the old stallion still knew a few tricks of the trade. "And while I have no idea where this key is, I did find several documents concerning the illegitimacy of The Exclusive Collection."

"How bad?"

"Several thousand bits in stolen art," his smile turned sly as he looked at me, "I managed to stuff them back in before the other detectives saw me."

"I bet the widow didn't want us to find them," I mused, "when she said she didn't know where the key was - she was hiding the evidence."

"Now you cannot blame a fine mare for wanting to prevent her late husband's name being tarnished." Conny returned his gaze to the board.

"We can accuse her of withholding vital information..." I suggested, raising an eyebrow to my employer. He skilfully ignored me and drank his coffee. "You know, sir - this could be the clue we need..."

He took a second before replying, "I say that they shipped over a cursed artefact, which Lady Grace took interest in and had installed in the house. Because of the nature of the curse, it doomed the perpetrator of the crime to a randomly occurring, bloody death, which fell to Articulate. On the night of the party, it decided to take effect, killing the stallion, and leaving his widow suffering from crippling guilt. Leading her to shamefully hide his business practices, and destroy the artefact."

"... Actually, that might work..."

"Really?"

"No," I laughed, adding, "but if it weren't for the fact that curses aren't real, then maybe you'd be right. Without the curse though, the whole plan falls down a bit."

"It would explain why no murderer was named, and why nopony can find the murder weapon."

"It would explain nothing else." I shook my head. "I don't think we should get hung up on the murder weapon problem - why would the murderer leave it at the scene of the crime? If it had been planned by an employee of The Exclusive Collection, they could easily have found the window to his office, levitated the weapon through the open latch, and disappeared before anypony could know they were there." I blinked for a second, feeling the cogs turn into place in my brain. "... That might be it."

"Articulate would have noticed a floating, glowing knife in his study," Conundrum said slowly, as if explaining the problem to a foal, "don't be so ridiculous, Nocturne - nopony would wait to be stabbed."

"But he wouldn't have seen it!" I insisted, closing my eyes and recalling the scene when I had been there, "Standing in front of the desk, facing towards the blood spot, you'd have had your tail to the window!"

"So it could have been somepony else entirely..." Conny tapped a hoof against his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. After the amount of time he deemed appropriate, he nodded sagely.

"The only problem is, who else?" I got up from the floor and began to pace, keeping my eyes fixed on the board. "A worker for The Exclusive Collection, a foreign priest on a quest for vengeance, a competing business pony? There's such huge possibility."

Conundrum had started twisting his scarf around his hoof, but other than that, showed no other signs of concern. "We could easily narrow it down - there will be a record of workers, and possibly even a list of all registered art traders."

"And Dust Trail might know some thing - though she did leave a couple of years ago..."

A wicked glint entered Conundrum's eyes as he shot me a look. We were finally getting into the real investigation.

By lunchtime we had managed to discover that The Exclusive Company records were kept at their headquarters at Baltimare, and while there wasn't a complete list of art traders (illegal or otherwise), Conundrum had managed to photograph most of the documents he'd found - even those he hadn't had the chance to read through.

With that in mind, it was agreed that one of us would need to go through the documents, and the other would need to travel to Baltimare. Somepony also needed to try and see Dust Trail again.

Seeing as I had already met Dust Trail, it would probably be best for me to see her first. Conundrum, being the boss of this agency, decided that he should get to travel to Baltimare to make sure the documents were searched properly (I suspected that he wanted a bit of a holiday as well), I also didn't have the money to afford a train ticket, and still needed to piece together my rent money by tomorrow evening. Conundrum had refused to let me travel to a different city to avoid this. Even if I did leave, it would probably just mean that all my stuff would have been thrown into the street to collect on my return - minus whatever furniture passers-by had taken a fancy to.

With this deadline over my head, and Conny making his own merry way to the train station, I hurried off in search of Dust Trail. If we found anything of use, we'd have to send letters to each other. Slow, but with no other option, it was how we were going to have to work. In reality, I knew it was unlikely that I'd ever get the money together in time - I just hadn't had time to start thinking about that possibility.

With the police continuing to occupy the manor, I had to let myself in through a window (specifically the one I had been through this morning) to find Perfect Eloquence. Stepping onto the wooden desk, I looked around the room, wondering if I'd missed the mare between the blue camouflage of carpet, chairs and bed. Nope; no Perfect Eloquence. Funny - she hadn't left the room since the murder, so what had caused this sudden venture?

Clearly, this called for a stealth mission.

Crouching down on my hooves, I pretended to be a little filly again. A leap from the desk, a barrel roll to the door, a quick wing flick in the latch, and I was out into the hall. Here, I sidled up to the wall and snook through the house. Obviously, in the midday sunshine with a midnight blue coat, I was probably the most noticeable thing in the whole manor - but that wasn't the point! The trick is to act as if you know exactly what you're doing, and then nopony can question why you're playing ninja. Or at least, that was the theory behind it...

Theories never work in practice.

Just as I was cartwheeling down a corridor, my hoof struck around a corner, impacting with something soft and surprised. Unable to stop my trajectory, I rolled into what I could only assume was a pony. Ignoring the squeals and protests, I let myself go with the momentum. Sadly, the fun was stopped by a dull, sturdy wall.

Opening my eyes (with had been closed to avoid flailing limbs), I could observe the ceiling, a pair of hind-legs, and a short white mane. Beneath me, a mare was lying dazed.

Taking advantage of this, I rolled over and pinned the mare's shoulders to the floor. Not that I really needed to - it wasn't like she'd even started trying to get up. I bent down close to her face, noticing for the first time who it was - Corduroy's icy assistant.

"What's your name?" I hissed, keeping my voice low. Luckily her eyes were still, or else she'd have instantly recognised my slitted pupils.

"F-frost Spark!" She squeaked back, scrunching her eyes up tighter. "Please don't kill me!"

"What are you doing here?"

"I-investig-gating the m-murder!" Frost Spark whimpered. "Just don't kill me - please - I'll do anything!"

"And why would I kill you?" I drew out the sentence, keeping my voice in the realms of gender-ambiguity.

"Y-you're the m-murderer, aren't you? You k-killed Gently Art-ticulate!" She turned her teal head to the side, resting a cheek against the wooden floor. "I st-tumbled into you, and n-now you've got to k-kill me!"

I took a second to consider where I was going with this. To be honest, I hadn't really had a plan until now, but for some reason it seemed important that I think of one. It was only a matter of time before she bothered to open her eyes.

"I'll be a g-good mare from now on!" the officer wailed, taking advantage of my silence, "I'll be n-nice to Quick Spell - and I'll give t-to charity - and I'll stop stealing c-cookies from my n-nephew!"

"Why in Equestria do you think a murderer would want you to be a nicer pony and live a better life?" I asked before I could think about what I was saying. "And you're an evil pony if you steal cookies from foals."

Her skinny frame shifted underneath my hooves. "I know! I'm such a horrible mare!" Her fore-hooves covered her eyes as she wailed hysterically. "I only took this job to laugh at other ponies' misfortune!"

"Okay..." I had dropped the threatening voice - it didn't seem worth it. "I'll just be leaving you now... good luck with the whole being evil problem..."

With that I released her faster than an apple farmer drop-kicking a pear, and bounded down the rest of the corridor. Opening my wings, I glided around the corner and froze. Freeing is never a good idea when you're several feet off the ground, and I was left to fall those few feet and skid across the floor.

To be more specific, it was my wings that were frozen. Literally. Looking over my shoulder, I saw the pair of leathery wings encased in ice blocks. Frost Spark, the unicorn, clearly needed to think of some more imaginative types of magic.

Suddenly, realising that there was an actual problem now, I jumped to my feet and ran down the hall. Where to hide, where to hide? Annoyingly, this entire hall had either statues on one side, or full windows on the other. No doors, no cupboards, no closets - but there were curtains.

A split-second to go, and I threw my self behind a navy curtain. I couldn't move my icy wings, and instead had to hope that they weren't on display. Or, if they were, that they were the same colour as the curtains. Heart pounding in excitement, I blocked it out in favour for the sound of galloping hooves.

"Oh, come on!" I heard her exclaim. "Damn spell must have missed!" Smiling to myself, the sound of her hooves retreating filled the corridor. She hadn't seen me.

Nevertheless, my smile soon faded when I remembered that my wings were encased in ice. Looking back, a few solitary water droplets ran down their surface, but otherwise no serious thawing was taking place. That was going to make leaving this place a bit harder than I had hoped.

The ice nearest my body was starting to disintegrate, so I was able to move the bulk of the wing. However, with the weight of the ice, I couldn't hold them up any more - so I left them to drag on the floor. Unlike pegasi wings, bat ponies tend to have a larger wingspan, and a harder time folding their wings up neatly - so wings would often drag on the floor. In a cave, this was far less problematic; you would either be hanging from the ceiling with them wrapped around you, or you'd be flying. In rare circumstances, when ponies become too old to do these things, wings double up as an extra set of legs to help you walk.

Incidentally, I could do none of these thing, so left them to make scratches in the fine parquet flooring as they dragged behind me.

Trotting along like this, I decided to ignore the problem for the time being - at least until I'd found Perfect Eloquence. Maybe she knew a good thawing spell - or where I could find a fire. Fires were usually in short supply in the middle of Summer; normally, ice was too.

A staircase later (one in the opposite direction to the way Frost Spark went) and I was wandering around the ground floor, trying to avoid more of the police. I had the vague idea that Perfect would be down here, or somepony who knew where she was. By this time, I'd nearly forgotten why I'd wanted her in the first place.

It was then that I heard her voice, snapping angrily at somepony. The noise came from the reception room we'd first met Lady Grace in. The entrance was incredibly exposed, so I was left to jump between curtains when I thought the coast was clear. Once I was close enough to hear the entirety of the conversation, I held my position, tucking my wings in as close as I could bear.

"We ask that you come quietly, Miss Eloquence."

"There is no reason for me to - I'm not guilty - there's nothing else you can ask me!"

The sound of stomping hooves filled the room, but the voice of Classic Corduroy cut through the bustle, "Officer Glass, please escort Miss Eloquence to the cart." More thunking followed this statement, instead being broken by the wailing of a certain mare.

"I've been attacked!"

"What do you mean, Offi-"

"I was going up to Eloquence's room and was attacked! I think it was the murderer!" Voices suddenly blossomed through the room, sparking and igniting. She must have forgotten that Eloquence was their murderer. Orders were given, and several ponies ran out of the room, ready to search the house. At the end of the streaming hooves, I could just make out the slam of the door and a click of a lock.

Certain that everypony had left, I exited my curtain and stole across to the door. Testing it, I found it locked. Without the hooked thumb of my wing, I wasn't able to unlock it. Placing my lips to the keyhole, I hissed, "Perfect Eloquence - are you in there?"

"Who's there?" Her voice replied boldly with nopony to supervise her. "Is that you, Dusty?" She asked again, her voice dropping as she came closer to the keyhole.

"No - it's Nocturne. I was hoping you might know where I could find Dust Trail."

"Oh," her excitement faded, not even trying to disguise her disappointment, "I think she's staying at a hotel for now. Are you going to help me out?"

"Er - no - they locked the door, and my wings have been turned into ice-cubes."

"Oh... wait - ice-cubes?"

"I'll tell you the story later." I glanced around before pressing my muzzle to the keyhole again. "Which hotel is she in - I need to ask her some questions."

"I think it's called The Salt Block - she said it was cheap and run-down and served good hay fries. She doesn't really want visitors."

"Thanks! I'm sure she'll love to see me again." I hissed sarcastically and dashed off, already hearing hooves coming down the hall. Confidently, I opened the front door, walking straight out into the sunshine. Finally there was a small congregation of clouds in the sky, along with the multi-coloured blurs of pegasi. If we were lucky, we could be in for a spot of rain.

Two police-colts stood on either side of the door, different stallions to the ones who had thrown us out earlier today. I could feel their eyes on me, but neither said a word and merely watched me stalk down the front path to the gate. Under the Sun, the ice was already starting to become less solid - not that this stopped my wings from scattering the gravel path.

Once out of the gate, I set off for the opposite side of Canterlot. From what I could remember from my time in the Guard, The Salt Block was a seedy little pub with a few rickety rooms above the bar. It had cheap prices, but you could never be entirely sure about what was in your drink. We only went there when we were extremely broke. So - you know - most of the time.

It was a long walk between the two, but I figured it would give my wings time to thaw out. If they didn't, and I ended up being attacked in that run-down place, I could always resort to clubbing somepony with them.

The façade of The Salt Block was no better than it had been when I used to frequent it; with over half of the letters missing, a board over several smashed panes of glass, and the sign of a hoof holding a mug of cider had been turned upside-down. Now it looked like the drink was being poured out rather than being drunk - probably the safer option.

I pushed open the door with a wing, trying to re-establish feeling with its icy prison having surrendered to the Sun. Both wings were unsurprisingly numb, wet, and stiff.

The door creaked; one of the hinges had rusted and broken. Only a select few were sat inside at this time of day, accompanied by the barmare - an ageing, grey-maned matriarch who used to be stunning (about fifty years ago). She pursed her lips at me, looking like she'd sooner tell me that I had forgotten to wipe my hooves on the non-existent mat, rather than serve me a drink. A rustle of murmurs ran through the pub as I walked in.

"Is there somepony called Dust Trail staying here?" I asked once I got up to the counter, not dwelling on the dirty looks the patrons were giving me.

"Might be," the barmare croaked, "why d'you want to know?"

"Is she here or not?" I insisted, leaning a hoof on her counter top, "All you have to say is yes or no."

"And all you have to do is tell me why you want her."

We glared at each other. I was waiting for her to blink so that I could win the staring contest, but she was probably waiting for me to grace her with an answer. She could never have won the staring contest - I was still wearing sunglasses, so she could never know that I was taking extra sneaky blinks.

She would also never get a reply; I had already guessed that Dust Trail was here - why be so reluctant to tell me, otherwise?

A stool scraped behind me as a pony got up. Their hooves came over to the bar, slowly and deliberately. Then a hoof rested on my shoulder. Clearly our contest would have to be postponed.

"And what makes you think you can go around demanding to see ponies?" A small smile teased my lips - a Canterlot thug. With refined accents, a high class of victim, and a habit of apologising after robbing you; the Canterlot thugs were a force to be reckoned with. If you were a frightened puppy, that is. Well, no - you'd be fine if you were a puppy - then you would be cute enough to be adopted into their ranks to grow into an adorable attack dog.

"I need to talk to her." I turned around to face the stallion. He was, as is required, large, with a square jaw and a well groomed forest of stubble, in an attractive shade of magnolia. "I know she's here."

"Well, maybe she doesn't want to talk to you."

"I like to think she doesn't have much of a choice."

Now it was time to have a staring contest with this stallion, whose eyes bulged like over-ripe peaches. His mouth curled into a crescent, making him look more disappointed than threatening.

"You're her fancy lover, aren't you? She said she didn't want to see you if you came."

"What? No!" I shook my head, trying to enforce the point, "I'm investigating a murder."

"Oh - pardon me!" He removed his hoof, dusting off my shoulder where it had rested, "Sure - go and investigate your murder." I smiled in thanks and wandered over to the stairs. "She's in room 3!" He called after me, "It's just on your left - can't miss it!"

"Thanks!" I called back - it always served to be polite to your local thugs. If I'd had the money, I might even have bought him a drink - possibly - buying somepony a drink from here could be seen as an insult rather than a kindness.

Nevertheless, I had more important matters to attend to...

Would Somepony Please Confess Already...

"So is there any paper in this dream world, or do I have to imagine it?" I sat up, feeling cushions beneath my hooves instead of grass. Blinking in the morning sunlight, I realised that my dream might have continued for far longer than I had intended. Rolling over, I found myself on the floor of my lounge, having spent the night on the sofa. Looking over at the clock, I found that it was already nine o'clock, and I had far too much to do today to sleep in.

Grabbing a piece of pink paper (I only kept paper for Lullaby to draw on - not to write out important documents) and an orange crayon, I began my letter:

Conundrum,

I think I've found the murderer - don't have time for you to get back. Will investigate alone & tell you if I'm right.

Wish me luck,

Nocturne

I rolled it up messily and tied it with some twine, labelling it with Conny's current address in Baltimare. With this complete, I grabbed my sunglasses and saddlebags, left Fantasia's clothes on the floor, and hurried down the stairs of the apartment building. Once at ground level, I just managed to catch the morning post mare, handing her the rather informal letter and bounded out onto the street.

I had a full twenty-four hours from the Equestrian Police Force taking Perfect in for questioning before they would declare whether Perfect was actually being arrested for the murder, or was just a witness. If I was betting, I would put my money on the former. That would give me until this afternoon to address the manor with my own proposal - too late and Lady Grace might take us off the case, which would defeat the point of finishing the case to earn my rent money.

Ignoring the twinging pain in my ribs, I took to the air. However, I was not flying towards the manor house - there was nothing of use to me there. I was instead looking for the third house on a horseshoe-shaped street. I knew it had a fine exterior, but an interior which was crumbling under high society pressure.

Even though it was a Tuesday, I figured that after the murder, family members would be excused from various duties - such as attending school.

For there was one witness we had never questioned. In fact, he had gone almost undetected, even though his information could turn out to be crucial.

I found the street, but didn't land. Neither did I do what I had last time - perching on an upper floor window waiting to be let in by a hung-over, debt-ridden stallion. This time, I circled the house, carefully viewing each window as discretely possible and thanking the Lunar Protector that this street was so silent and empty or else somepony might have reported me.

Proving my assumptions correct, I spotted the colt whom I guessed to be Quartz Crystal. He was sat on the floor of a foals' nursery, three floors up, rolling a wooden cart back and forth. He must have spent a lot of time alone, because the room was filled with toys - no doubt donated by the colt's doting grandparents.

I slowed my wings and settled precariously on the window ledge, teetering dangerously (well - as dangerous as it could be when falling was easily resolved by flight).

Smiling as openly as possible, without flashing my fangs, I knocked on the glass.

He looked up slowly, as if he was used to hearing noises, but never expecting them to be anything interesting. Pale pink eyes blinked back at me, astounded in a way only foals can be. Unlike his father, Quartz Crystal took my sudden appearance well - smiling gleefully and bounding up to open the window.

Jumping off the ledge and squeezing through the gap took some effort, but I eventually tumbled into the nursery.

"Wow! Are you a Royal Guard?" The foal squealed, his white mane bobbing as he jumped around me. To my delight, he managed to levitate over two wooden figurines in a wobbly aura - one a white unicorn in golden armour, and the other a grey bat pony in purple plating. "Did the Princess send you?"

"Yes - yes, she did!" I returned, letting him squeal again."But we have to be quiet," I held a hoof to my mouth, "because I'm on a secret mission."

"Okay!" Quartz hissed back, holding up a chubby blue hoof to his own lips.

I felt cruel asking him, but it was vital that I did - so I sat down in front of him and asked him softly, "Can you tell me about your Summer Sun Celebration?"

"Oh..." His ears pressed flat against his skull and his eyes shifted away.

"Here," I offered, grabbing a few other of his figures, and spreading them out in front of him, making sure that there were enough for everypony present, "we can act it out."

He looked hesitant, but started shifting the pieces. I let him do all of this, wanting to see which toy he allocated to everypony. Finally, I was looking at the closest re-enactment of the murder yet created, using wooden dolls and tiny farmyard fences to show the walls of the house.

"Uncle Enterprise said that Auntie Perfect was sulking," the colt explained, poking the Daring Do figurine over onto her face. I wondered if he had also spotted Perfect with Dust Trail, seeing as Daring Do certainly fitted Dusty well.

He sat a chewed Shining Armour on his own thrown, away from all the other dolls, "I didn't see Grandpa - he never comes out. I always have to be quiet for him." I nodded and observed the rest of the scene. It seemed that foals' toys consisted of ponies who had been responsible in past Equestrian disasters or comic books, seeing as Bold Enterprise had become a beanbag Discord, and Featherlight was now Princess Cadence. I could only assume that the Changeling was Good Conduct, seeing that he was the only pony with Featherlight. I couldn't distinguish between Lady Grace and Pink Diamond, seeing as the last two female dolls were two Power Ponies (Radiance and that other one - Mistress Matter-Horn... or was it The Masked Mare?). Finally, Quartz had made himself the only Power Pony I could consistently remember - Humdrum (he was my favourite) - sat slightly away from the group of three.

"I was being good," the foal explained, trotting Humdrum around the bottom of the 'garden', "but Uncle Enterprise was being really grumpy - he wouldn't play with me."

"Wouldn't your ma play with you?"

"Mommy never plays with me," Quartz explained, as if it was a trivial fact of life, "but Grandma gave me this -" he pointed to a small train set which occupied his shelf. "She always brings me new things," He bragged, but moved the Radiance figure towards Discord sadly, "but she was having a grown up talk."

"Why did your daddy go inside?"

He lifted the Changeling in his inexperienced aura and moved him back out to the garden. "There was a big noise. Grandma wanted Daddy to see what it was. She was busy talking about grown up stuff." He jumped the Changeling and Radiance up and down to mimic their conversation, turning Radiance defiantly away when she had finished talking. The Changeling was replaced in the kitchen beside Princess Cadence.

"Was your ma having a grown up chat?"

"No," Quartz moved the second Power Pony so that she faced off into the distance, "Mommy isn't part of the grown up chats - she was reading one of the shiny papers." I nodded, noting that while everypony else in the garden had claimed to be talking to Pink Diamond, neither of them had been. I hadn't bothered to check with Pink Diamond - it would have taken hours of useless gossip.

"Do they often have grown up chats?"

"Loads - I'm never allowed to listen..." he smiled gleefully at me, "sometimes I do. But I don't understand it." He ignored the garden this time, moving towards the kitchen instead as he bobbed Princess Cadence and the Changeling up and down in conversation. "Daddy always has grown up chats with Feathery. But she brings me cupcakes and plays with me when she comes."

"When she comes?" I felt a spark register between my ears. "Feathery comes here - to your house?" It was always best to use a foal's language when trying to interview them. No - I wasn't suddenly struck dumb.

"Yeah - on her days off, when Mommy's out." The colt picked up Princess Cadence guiltily. "I like it more when Feathery's here - Daddy's nicer too."

"Does your mommy like Feathery?"

"Um... no?" He picked up both dolls, concentrating on the pair of them. "They don't see each other - I have to be quiet about when Feathery comes. Feathery coming is our secret - Mommy isn't allowed to know." The Power Pony was discarded on the carpet roughly. "Oh - you have to keep it secret! Daddy said I mustn't tell nopony!"

"Don't worry," I cooed, trying to keep the colt calm and forgiving his use of the double negative, "I'm good at keeping secrets." At least, if I admitted to knowing it, I'd pretend I heard it from somepony else.

"So what happened after that?"

"Grandpa came out..." the foal reluctantly took Shining Armour from his throne and laid him on his side in the makeshift garden. "I wanted to go inside. Daddy told me to stay in the garden. He didn't want me to see." He crowded the three other ponies around Shining Armour, with the Changeling hovering on the fence. Actually, it looked more like he was guarding the fence - or what was behind it...

"Where was your auntie Perfect?"

"I saw her at the window," the foal took notice of the Daring Do figure for the first time, moving her to be looking down at the carnage, "she wanted to know what was going on. I think she came down after that. I don't know - nopony would talk to me." The small colt frowned slightly and corrected himself. "Lulu talked to me - when you got there." The Night Guard doll and a large stuffed rabbit entered the scene, with the rabbit easily large enough for Quartz to settle Humdrum on top of its back. The Guard's limbs were made so that they could move, so he positioned the toy's front hoof to be thrust out authoritatively.

"You recognise me?"

He nodded quickly in reply, smiling smugly, though added shyly, "I just remembered - your eye's all black where Grandma hit you."

I raised a hoof to check my eye. I must have taken off the sunglasses when I came in, not thinking the foal would remember me - I could hardly remember what had happened myself. Clearly, I hadn't been paying proper attention; when I arrived at the scene, and every time after it when I looked in a mirror.

For the record, it did still hurt when I poked it.

"That mare has a powerful right hook..." I admitted, speaking to myself more than the colt. At his age he shouldn't know what a right hook was. Getting back to the investigation at hoof, I looked back down at the recreation (ignoring the large fluffy bunny). "Did your daddy or Feathery come out of the house?"

"Um... yeah - but only when the police ponies got there. They were finding things for Grandpa."

I nodded, storing the information in my memory (which I was hoping would suffice - taking notes always seemed rude in front of foals). "Have you heard anything since the accident?"

"I know Grandpa's with Princess Celestia now," Quartz's pink eyes swelled with unknown sadness, "Mommy told me that. But she's lying - if Princess Celestia had him, she'd give him back."

"Very true," I agreed sagely, stunned slightly by the maturity of a colt who could be no older than Lullaby. At his age, I didn't even think it was possible for my parents to lie. I was about to say good bye to the colt when a voice sounded from outside the door.

"Are you talking to somepony, Quartz?" I froze where I was, looking for an escape. It would take too long to wriggle through the window again.

"No, Daddy!" Quartz shouted back, trying to hide his fear that I might be found. Sometimes, the strongest loyalty can be found in foals.

The door handle turned and I moved instinctively.

"I heard talking..." Good Conduct muttered. By the sounds of it, he wasn't drunk any more, but still sounded rough. I could imagine the red-rimmed eyes and possibly even the stubble of an unshaven beard.

"I was just playing," Quartz explained innocently, trying not to glance at me balanced on the cupboard behind the door. After hiding the visits of the family maid for several years, this colt was growing into a competent liar. This could have made it a little harder to believe what he'd already told me, considering the fact that somepony could already have asked him to lie to me. I left it to deal with later.

Presently, I realised that Good Conduct might recognise the scene, so felt it was my duty to prevent this happening.

I jumped over the door so that I landed with a graceful thunk behind the stallion, facing him as he span around in surprise.

"I have been looking for you, Good Conduct." I smiled, noting the panic that rose in his eyes.

"Where did you come from?"

"Your butler just let me in," I lied, brushing off the comment. Before I could walk out of here, however, I would need a reason for trying to find him... "I want to gather everypony that was at the Summer Sun Celebration party at the manor this afternoon. I believe I am about to make a break-through, and want everypony to be present."

"Oh..." He glanced at his son before facing me again, knowing that not coming would definitely prove suspicious. It also meant that I would need to reveal the murderer in front of a crowd, because I really needed the extra pressure...

"If you could be there at exactly one o'clock with your family, I would be most grateful." I explained with a smile that suggested he had little choice in the matter.

"Certainly." He replied stiffly; rather unlike the previous conversations we'd had. Maybe the presence of his son made him feel less comfortable.

With a blunt nod, I turned to trot back down stairs, giving a sly wink to Quartz as I left. Inevitably, I ran into Hob, their servant, on my way out. With ease and confidence, and perhaps a mildly flirtatious pout, I told him that he had let me in earlier, and was letting me out again now.

So I left knowing that a certain butler hated my common guts, but was too polite to say so.

Armed with my new information, I did go to the manor. The police would be there, nevertheless, I was long past caring - I could talk to ponies without them noticing if I needed to.

By the time I got there it was nearly eleven o'clock, and the sky had finally turned grey for the first time in over a week. The first delicious droplets of rain had started to drift down. I removed my sunglasses to savour the moment, bracing myself for the ponies I would have to face inside.

I entered through an unlocked window, wondering why there weren't more thieves in Equestria - it would certainly have been a lucrative job for a light-hoofed unicorn or pegasus. Don't ask about earth ponies - I could barely understand how they opened doors, let alone picking a locked one. Another good reason to have more thieves would have been to provide myself with more reasonable work - avoiding solving complicated murders.

I supposed these were the problems you had to get over when you agreed to live in a peace-loving, morally-guided country. If I had wanted crime, I should have moved to the Griffon Empire. At least they had good whiskey there...

Not entirely knowing where to find them, I wandered into the halls of the west wing, recalling the turns that Featherlight had led me and Conundrum down. The luxurious décor didn't have quite the same imposing power it had on me the first time I'd seen it. Now the sinful reds and endless blacks looked like an exuberant front, trying to hide the stains and scars beneath. It was not as open and beautiful as the east wing, where, while being blindingly bright, it at least looked natural and unforced. The door I stopped beside hid perhaps the biggest fraud.

I knocked and waited for the commanding, "Enter!"

"Bold Enterprise." I greeted him without my previous smile.

"Nocturne, is it? I had been expecting Feather-fright with elevenses, but this is a pleasant surprise!" He flashed that practised grin, expecting me to play along. I had better things to be doing.

Trotting into the room, I took the chair opposite him before he could stand up and offer it. Removing the pencil and paper from my bags at my own pace, I commanded the situation with my own authority. Before me, our previous notes rested accusingly.

"I have enough evidence to pin you with a motive for killing Gently Articulate." I stated boldly, looking directly at the stallion, daring him to contradict me. "So you had better explain what you were discussing with Lady Grace on the night of the party, or I might just have to arrest you first and ask questions later."

"Why, she asked me why I was in such a foul mood - which, might I say, I was fully in my own right to be i-"

"Don't lie to me," I interrupted, not looking away, "I think that she knew all about your attempted proposal already, and you were discussing what to do next."

"I don't see why you are asking me this - haven't you heard that Perfect Eloquence has already been arrested?" He was becoming defensive and crossed his hooves across his chest.

"Oh, please, you don't believe that Perfect killed her father, and your business partner - you just want this case closing before anything can be exposed. And so does Lady Grace."

"I don't know what you're insinuating -"

"Yes, you do," I argued, feeling the buzz of adrenaline boosting my confidence, "and Lady Grace knows far more than she's letting on as well." He didn't reply, keeping his teeth firmly clenched together. I had never expected him to admit to anything - he was a smart stallion, and there was no reason for him to tell me. So I was left with Conundrum's favourite pastime - wild speculation - which, in all honesty, had been the only thing fuelling this interview in the first place.

"Lady Grace will obviously have different motivations for trying to marry off her daughter," I mused, "but I dare say that Gently Articulate planned it with both of you, and that you were both fully aware of what was going to happen. Maybe the dear Lady didn't trust her only son with the business she had helped to build, or she wanted her own status to rise by having a well-married daughter along with the possibility of more grandfoals - which, might I add, is incredibly unlikely now. Perhaps she was even allowed her own portion of the business if she gave Perfect some mother-to-daughter advice to persuade her to take you."

As I spoke, I watched Enterprise carefully, wondering if my guesses might at least cause him to get a little bit annoyed. He was the kind of stallion I wanted to annoy.

"So when she refuses to take you, you go to the mother to see if she could talk some sense into her." I casually waved a hoof and curled a lip skywards. "We all know that would never have worked. So what was the back up plan...? Make Good Conduct give up his share of his own freewill? Unlikely considering how much he relies on the money, as you well know. How about finding a loophole in the will - although, with this much money, I dare say that Gently had plenty to make sure his will was done properly. Or how about..." I tapped a hoof on my chin. Suddenly a rather horrifying possibility jumped into my head. It was wrong - like any of Conny's suggestions - but it would certainly anger Enterprise and his pride.

"Or..." I drew out the conclusion luxuriously. "You were going to plan a little murder and reap the rewards. How about killing Good Conduct (he wasn't helping anypony anyway), taking his share, and then... well, Lady Grace would still have her part of the business (which I know she has), so how to take that? Easy - you kill Gently Articulate and marry his widow. Quite simple really."

"How dare you suggest that?" He roared, not the only pony here with a short fuse. "He was my partner and friend - I would never have killed him!"

"Not intentionally..."

"Never! Impossible!" He stood up to confront me, glaring down with those commanding eyes. I could bet that those eyes had caused a few ponies to give him what he wanted - and not all of it legal. "Perfect Eloquence killed him in her rage - she always had a temper! Couldn't be trusted!"

"Talking about ponies losing their tempers..." I goaded, adding quickly, "And if Perfect would kill her father for trying to marry her off, she should also have killed you, and her mother."

"She had no idea that Lady was involved!"

I smiled, building up my arsenal of information. "I dare say that's why Lady Grace left the study quickly when her daughter arrived - not to give her privacy with her father, but to avoid the realisation that she was also involved. If Perfect knew, then there'd be no way for Lady Grace to reconcile the two of you - her daughter would never trust her!" An angry grunt confirmed my speculations. I decided that maybe Conny was right to throw around impossible scenarios - sometimes, they led you to the right answer. In addition to this, you also needed an actual witness to shout them at, and a reasonable degree of plausibility.

"You can't prove any of that." He declared, taking a step back, though not sitting down.

"Well - say somepony else killed Gently Articulate - that would still leave the possibility of you marrying the widow and removing the son from the business." I stood up, my own business settled here. "Quite convenient really."

"You still cannot prove it!" He shouted after me as I moved towards the door.

"Doesn't matter if I could - it isn't illegal to marry widows." Though the business you inherited would be, I thought silently. I wasn't ready for Enterprise to know what I had discovered about The Exclusive Collection, so it was safer for me to keep quiet and leave. "I am arranging a meeting at one o'clock with all of the witnesses in the garden. I expect to see you there." With that the door slammed shut behind me. Once outside of the room, I allowed myself a celebratory somersault. Enterprise had told me far more than he had intended and I ever expected.

Before Enterprise could say anything, I went to find the poor grieving widow.

Lady Grace was not in the main reception room. Having no idea where else she could be, I flagged down Featherlight before the police guards could notice me stalking around the house.

"Featherlight, I need to know where Lady Grace is."

"Oh! Hello Miss Nocturne!" She squeaked in surprise - I had just found her peering beyond the police barrier. She turned to face me nervously, pretending to have never been looking past the tape.

"Do you know where Lady Grace is?"

"I just took her tea - she's in her room." The pegasus kicked a hoof uncomfortably. "Have you heard, Miss Nocturne? They have... well, arrested Perfect Eloquence!"

"So ponies keep telling me."

"I could swear she never did it!" Featherlight exclaimed forcefully. I have to say, it startled me slightly. "She would never, ever do anything like that!"

"I know."

"You know? Oh, well, that's good..." she smiled slightly before lowering her head to the floor, "I just want all of this to be over, that's all - so things can go back to normal."

I couldn't answer her request, so asked her to show me to Lady Grace's room instead. On the way, I couldn't help wondering aloud. "What were you looking at in the crime scene? The police might get suspicious if you keep hanging around it." I made sure to say this in a friendly manner, but Featherlight jumped at the question.

"Oh, um, I was just, well - those stains have been there for so long - and it will be me that has to get them out."

"If I were you, I'd just replace the carpet." I confided, watching the mare trot ahead of me quickly.

"Yes, well - I might." She still didn't seem settled with that reply, causing her tail to swish frantically. "My best knife is in that kitchen, and I'd quite like it back - I, uh, it was my mother's."

I nodded before actually voicing my agreement, realising that she wouldn't have seen my nod. It seemed that she had a lot of things that were her mother's. Not that I knew anything about the mare - so I couldn't exactly speculate. Nopony around here ever seemed to mention Featherlight, let alone her previous generations.

"Here we are," she offered with a relieved sigh, "I'm afraid I have work to do downstairs." She turned tail and trotted off, not even bothering to knock and open the door, as she had done every time before now. I hadn't even had a chance to ask her to join the meeting in the garden this afternoon.

Nevertheless, I wasn't above knocking on a door for myself, so raised a hoof and thumped the wood.

"Enter," a refined voice called, and continued to say, "you need not be here, Featherlight, I have not finished yet and the tea is fine."

"It's not Featherlight," I replied, shutting the door behind me, "it's Nocturne - one of the detectives you employed."

"Oh." I had caught her unaware, and she was without the handkerchief she had previously covered her face with. A small table had been pulled up beside her armchair, holding a small china tea pot and cup, and a platter of ginger biscuits (by the smell of them). "Is your supervisor accompanying you today?"

"No, he has business elsewhere," I confessed dryly, sitting on the floor in front of her, "but he's not required to be here at present. I just need to ask you a few final questions." I took out my note pad and held it in a wing, not wanting her to see what was written. "Actually, I have something to tell you first."

"I am already aware that my daughter has been arrested." She didn't appear too distressed at this revelation, but she had always been reserved. "Should the case be solved by the Equestria Police Force before you have come to a conclusion, I shall be terminating your contract."

"Ah - our contract. I'll address that problem later." I smiled, trying to remain in control. It was a lot harder to manipulate a mare who was used to everything being how she wanted it. "As for the police, I shouldn't worry - they're barking up the wrong tree." Lady Grace refused to react, undoubtedly questioning my abilities. I remained calm - I knew what I had to do, I didn't need an ageing mare to tell me what would happen if I didn't.

"So what is it that you need to tell me?"

"I know that you lied to me, on the day we started investigating. I know that you were in fact in discussion with Bold Enterprise rather than Pink Diamond."

"May I ask how that should be significant?" Her eyes narrowed, causing lines to blossom from her eyes. "Can I not talk to an old friend without undue speculation?"

"It depends what you were talking about," I shrugged, "the weather and latest fashions are perfectly acceptable topics. However," I looked directly at those watery grey eyes, "it has been confirmed by Enterprise that you were part of the discussion to marry your daughter off to this 'old friend'. It has also been revealed that the two of you were conspiring to remove your son from the business. Furthermore," I insisted before she could interrupt, "after the death of your husband, you have been hatching a plan to marry Enterprise so that you might share the business. Oh, yes, I do know that you own a fair share of The Exclusive Collection. You can't claim that you didn't interfere in the company - I bet you helped set it up." I stole a glance around the bedroom. Unlike the private study, it was filled with fine art; paintings, sculptures, and a very nice woven rug. She was probably the one to suggest starting an art trading company.

"None of this can be proved."

"Funny - that's what Enterprise said." The mare glared at me. She had probably never faced such a rude, impertinent guest in her entire life. Even if she had, she could at least throw out the other guests. I, on the other hoof, was going nowhere. "Obviously, if this is true, it wouldn't be a crime (depending on how you remove your son) - though it does question your credibility as a witness."

"At the time, I was in shock after the death of my husband," the lady hid behind her protection as a widow, "so you cannot blame me for my information."

"I suppose that now, a few days later, you might be able to recall the scene a little better?" It was a cruel dig - this mare had lost her husband. Nevertheless, without Conundrum hovering over my shoulder, I was finding it a lot easier to be rude to witnesses. "You sent your son inside to deal with the maid's clumsiness, so that you could discuss your plan to remove him from the company in private - oh, and probably work out how to gently encourage Perfect to accept Enterprise - but that could wait. I dare say Good Conduct had been scrounging off of your hard-earned business for years..."

"Perhaps when you have foals," Lady Grace replied tautly, "you will understand the disappointment I feel towards my son. He was given a fine - and expensive - education. He had been promised a place in the business as soon as he was born. Despite this, he has neglected his duties, he gambles away the money he is given, and yet my husband refused to cut him out of the business. I knew that the colt had had a few too many chances, and needed to learn how to behave."

"A little late now - he must be nearly thirty. Most foals have these lessons when they're ten." I smiled with superiority. I didn't have (or want) foals - instead, I had a particularly wonderful niece.

Lady Grace pursed her lips. "I accept that maybe both of my foals were spoilt, and are far too ungrateful towards my efforts to raise them well."

"I suppose it doesn't surprise you then that one of them is going to prison?"

"Perfect always had such a temper - I knew it would never serve her well. But I did not expect it to come to this." Despite this admission, she seemed pretty settled about it.

I had found out all I wanted to know, and was starting to feel hungry. Time to wrap this up, get lunch, and reveal a murderer.

"Thank you, Lady Grace, for your time." I stood up, trying not to stretch too vigorously. "I shall unveil my findings at one o'clock in the garden today. I ask that you be present." I would be expecting her to pay me my fee then. Not that I knew how much the fee would be.

I had just over an hour before the show would get under way, and had just remembered that I still needed to see another pony. Deliberately walking in the open, it didn't take long for a police guard to notice that I shouldn't be in the manor. It took even less time for them to deposit me unceremoniously in front of Detective Inspector Classic Corduroy.

"Hello, again!" I greeted warmly. He did not return my smile.

"Miss Nocturne. Very suspicious to find you sneaking around here - especially considering that you are still a suspect."

"Actually, in case you have forgotten - The Misdemeanour Private Detective Agency was employed by Lady Grace to solve this crime. I am merely working." I waved a hoof nonchalantly. "You, however, should surely be at the station, interviewing Perfect Eloquence?"

The detective laughed slightly. "Now, little mare - Nocturne, was it? From one investigator to another, I'll have you know that this crime has already been solved. It will be officially announced this afternoon. Sorry about your dreams of being a proper investigator, but being lumbered down with dear Conny would ruin the dreams of anypony."

"And I'll have you know that I am making my own announcements at one o'clock this afternoon. I believe you should be present to witness it. Oh - and bring Perfect Eloquence."

"You don't seriously think your word against ours will have any weight?"

"Ah, maybe - but unlike you, I shall get a confession." The look on his face suggested that Perfect had not been forthcoming with her confession. Rightly so, seeing as she didn't do it. "I shall also be revealing some more information that you will have to follow up, I've done all of the research for you, but you'll have to put in the effort of the actual arrests. I tend not to carry hoofcuffs on me." I could tell he was simmering with rage at my arrogance. Contrary to this, he would definitely turn up - the possibility of me being hideously proved wrong was too much temptation for Inspector Corduroy.

With that, I turned from where we were stood (which happened to be the garden), and took to the air. The air was feeling very close and muggy, the atmosphere stifling with the anticipation of rain. Maybe planning the meeting to be outside wasn't such a good idea... nevermind - I would enjoy a cool downpour, even if the witnesses didn't.

I interrupted my flight across the city to grab a blueberry muffin, which was consumed on the journey back to the office. It had occurred to me that the police might not make the arrests I wanted if I didn't actually have the evidence with me. I figured the photographs and the knowledge of where to find the actual documents would be enough proof. But first I needed to collect them.

Thankfully, they were exactly where I had left them on my desk, so stuffed them into my saddle bags quickly, along with a few other bits and pieces that I thought would come in useful. Finally, taking one of my few precautions, I jotted out the timeline I thought was correct - with a few revised sections to take into accounts the lies we had been fed. Now was no time to be acting on false information.

All I had to do was fly back...

By ten to one the garden was already filling with ponies. Far more than I had been expecting, actually. The butterflies in my stomach started turning somersaults.

I set down my saddle bags on the path that ran beside the house. Thinking about it, I hadn't really been in the garden since the incident. They had cleaned the blood off the grass very well - you would never know that somepony had died out here.

Taking the chance to look around (having been rather busy on my previous visit), I surveyed the surroundings. Behind me, the kitchen was to my right, with wide windows looking out onto the patio. I decided that if I ever had a garden, a patio would be nice - theirs was several meters wide in the shape of a benevolent sun, but I was sure a smaller one with moon tiling would be just as effective. Possibly - I was no gardener, but this one seemed pretty.

To my left spread the lawn. This was where the party had been commencing on the eve of the Summer Sun Celebration. They must have had blankets and cushions spread out on the day, all of which had been cleared away. Beyond the patio and the lawn, boarders and bushes sprang up. These angled to either side of the path, funnelling any walkers down it into the flower garden. Further down must have been the pond that Perfect Eloquence pushed Enterprise into.

However, the garden was nowhere near as idyllic as I was describing it. Ponies thronged around in all directions - enough to make my wings start to sweat. Lady Grace and Enterprise were talking together, possibly planning what to do about my discoveries. I shared a secret smile with myself - I still had a lot more to reveal. Good Conduct and his family had arrived. He shifted nervously on his feet, still looking rough from the days of alcohol abuse. Quartz Crystal was trying to catch my eye without it looking too obvious. I winked back before he could make a fool of himself.

Then there were the ponies I had never seen in my entire life. All with cameras around their necks, notebooks floating at their sides, sporting the inflated egos of ponies about to make it big. Journalists. Of course - they had probably come for the police statement, but had been offered the treat of tearing apart a relatively amateur detective. My stomach and its resident butterflies fell through my tummy and splattered messily on the floor. Gritting my eyes tightly shut, I hoped they would go away if I prayed for long enough.

Peering open an eye as much as I dared, I discovered that they had not disappeared.

"Miss Nocturne?" A stallion's voice greeted me. I opened my eyes fully and turned to my right. Beside me was a unicorn of average height with a portly figure. I guessed he must have been nearing retirement age.

"Yes, that's me," I replied in a small voice. I had just identified the uniform he wore.

"I'm the Chief of the Equestrian Police Forces, Keen Justice." He shook my hoof firmly. "I have been following this case with great interest - it is so rare for a crime of this significance to ever occur on our peaceful shores. So when my inspector informed me that you were going to reveal your own findings, I just had to come along and listen. It is fascinating to see how other ponies come to their conclusions!" I smiled politely, while feeling like some foul creature floating in a specimen jar, just discovered on the back shelf of a forgotten cupboard - unusual and unique, but inevitably going to end up in a bin when the cleaners came around.

"Thank you, sir. I hope I won't disappoint." He grinned encouragingly and trotted back to his own entourage. Classic Corduroy and several other officers were with him. Placed slightly aside from them was Perfect Eloquence in a pair of hoofcuffs and a horn ring (to prevent the use of magic).

I turned back to the house, spotting the one pony left inside. Featherlight.

I waved her over, waiting for her to come down. It took some time - she couldn't use the normal back door, and had been one floor up. Slightly impatient, I wished she would just spread her wings and fly down. Maybe other ponies didn't like doing that in polite company... Eventually, she snook out into the garden, coming up to me uncomfortably.

"Why are there so many ponies?" She asked, hiding behind her mane. Nopony was actually looking at us, but the act seemed to make her a little happier.

"We're bringing the case to a close," I said with a satisfied sigh, "I'd appreciate it if you could attend now - I'm sure you can be excused from your work for now."

"Oh, okay, Miss Nocturne," she nodded slowly, "it would be nice to finish this..." She walked away from me, but stood away from the crowds. With everypony present, there was no reason to postpone any longer. Well, except for my churning stomach and sweaty sides. I scrunched up my eyes and breathed deeply. I had faced worse, I told myself - I just couldn't remember exactly what they were at the time.

"Attention, please!" I shouted, opening my eyes, "Could I have your attention, please?" A few ponies turned around, but the majority were still absorbed in their own conversations. I held a hoof up to my lips and whistled shrilly. "ATTENTION!"

That got them to turn around.

"Could I please have the witnesses sat at the front," I called, indicating directly in front of me, "then the police, and finally the journalists and sight-seers at the back. Nopony invited you, and I want to pretend that you aren't actually here!"

Slowly lines began to form. Perfect was pushed forwards so that she was between the lines of police and other witnesses. Lady Grace sat beside her 'old friend' modestly. Featherlight made sure to sit as far away from Good Conduct as possible at the end of a row.

"Now, before I reveal the murderer, I would like to announce another revelation that myself and my colleague discovered during this investigation." I paused, quickly saying, "I should apologise for my associate, Complex Conundrum, not being present today - he has important business to attend to." I wondered if he had even received my letter. The rate the Equestrian Postal Service ran at, he would probably hear about this in the newspapers before he even got my letter.

"We initially considered that there was a discrepancy when we were first employed - for we were fully aware that the Equestrian Police Force was already investigating. So why should Lady Grace, widow to the late Gently Articulate, wish to employ The Misdemeanour Private Detective Agency?" I made sure to mention the entire mouthful - if this went well, the publicity might just get us some more work. If not... well, it wasn't like we had been getting much work anyway. "It was not until yesterday that we discovered the truth. For Lady Grace did not want the police investigation, because they might have stumbled upon the fact that The Exclusive Collection isn't entirely legal! But if you had private investigators, one might just be able to bribe them into keeping quiet."

I waited for the gasps to subside, studying the widow intensely. Her firm gaze met mine. She didn't confirm it, but she wasn't trying to deny it either. She was trapped, and hadn't been prepared. I allowed myself the tiniest of smiles.

"Obviously, she tried to minimise the risk of discovery, and hid the key to her late husband's private documents, which were secreted in his study." I reached into my saddle bags and removed the photographs. "Here, I have evidence of those documents, which detail the process by which operatives of The Exclusive Collection were told to steal art from ancient cultures. As well as this, there is proof of art being smuggled in to avoid taxes, and an estimated sum of stolen art which totals several thousand bits!"

More gasps rose up from the journalists, but I was focusing on the family. Obviously, Lady Grace and Enterprise looked angry for being discovered, though Good Conduct managed a slightly surprised frown. It was possible that he didn't know - I didn't think that his mother would have allowed him close enough to the business to find out. Pink Diamond's face was the most entertaining. I hadn't realised before then that pony eyebrows could reach so high - it was like they were trying to escape from her forehead.

"In response to this, I believe the owners of the company should be tried in court, and that the company should be disbanded or shared between existing, legal art traders." I replaced the photographs in my bags, noticing that the Detective Inspector was having some hurried discussions with his minions.

"This leads me to the actual reason why we are here - to solve a murder." I looked across at the ponies assembled slowly. "With no intended disrespect to the Equestrian Police Force," I saved a special grin for Classic Corduroy, suggesting that I meant every disrespect imaginable, "I feel that I must declare that they were wrong to arrest Perfect Eloquence - for she did not murder her father! With a full hour between the her leaving the study and the attack, there is no reason for it to be fuelled by the anger of an arranged marriage. She was also seen by Quartz Crystal at her bedroom window when Gently Articulate left the building, after being stabbed. Providing her with an alibi."

"She could have ran back up after the attack!" One of the police officers had called this out.

"Have you tried running that distance?" I countered, exhilarated by the challenge. This was my show - a little police officer wasn't going to fault my evidence. "The time for a bleeding stallion to walk down a hall is much shorter than it would take to run back upstairs and remove the blood stains. It would be impossible unless the unicorn knew how to teleport. Unlikely, considering that Perfect Eloquence specialises in speaking and learning the languages of different animal species." I took the time to look at Perfect. She was currently glaring at the police behind her, but I was sure that I would get a grateful smile later.

"So who did it?" I began to pace in front of my audience, starting to relax into the show. "Perhaps it would be better to ask where was the crime committed. Because it certainly wasn't in Gently Articulate's study." I pulled out a different photograph - the one with the blood stain trail. "I saw this - the trail of blood - and found it rather unusual. From the study to the kitchen, there were smears; drawn out and pulled across the floor. After that, until the trail reached outside, the patches were more like splodges - as if the blood had dripped in significant quantity. The reason for this - the trail from the study to the kitchen was put there by somepony else!"

Sound erupted from the crowd. Blocking it out, I stared at one poor mare, so pale I couldn't have told you that her coat was originally yellow. She wasn't looking back at me, but she knew it was her I was focussing on.

Somepony silenced the crowd so that I could continue speaking again.

My gaze softened - I didn't want to say this.

"And I'm sorry, Featherlight," several faces turned on the mare, "because you didn't kill Gently Articulate, but you did have to cover it up. That's a prison sentence for tampering with evidence and misleading investigators." She broke down - unused to the pressure, and, as I suspected, genuinely sorry. "To have mopped the blood from the kitchen floor, and to have re-painted it in a false trail while hiding your actions from a panicking household takes a lot. And I dare say that you would never have done it, except for him."

There were only murmurs this time, but there was clear unrest amongst the crowd. Coincidentally, I just heard Pink Diamond ask her husband, "Who is this - nopony told me that Featherlight had a coltfriend!"

"Please, m-miss," Featherlight whimpered, "I d-don't want to hear this..."

I ignored her, knowing my resolve would break if I let myself listen. He was a murderer and he had to be punished by law.

"Because after being friends from foalhood, you became lovers, which must have been difficult after his arranged marriage." I shifted my gaze from Featherlight and settled on Good Conduct. "It is rather an unfortunate name; Good Conduct. Considering your long-term affair, your gambling debts, your alcoholism, and the murder of your father." The stallion just hung his head, oblivious to his wife's shrieks, and his mother's professed grief, and his lover's eyes trying to catch his own.

"You see," I continued, waiting for the noise to subside, "at this party, Featherlight intentionally dropped something - giving her lover an excuse to come inside and see her. This also gave Lady Grace and Bold Enterprise the opportunity to discuss cutting Good Conduct out of the business. As you must understand, after years of siphoning off the company funds, Good Conduct's family were tired of financing his bills, and wanted him out. While leaving the garden and entering the hall, Good Conduct overhears these plans. Infuriated, he tells his lover." I paused to take a breath or two. "Gently Articulate, just down the hall, hears the ensuing discussion in the kitchen - possibly even catching his only son in a compromising position with his maid. This angers the stallion - he had given his son several chances to change, but this ends his previously forgiving nature. For Gently Articulate had also been hoping to remove his son from the business. While he had previously hoped for a dignified and considered transferral of the business to his partner Bold Enterprise, this caused him to lose his temper.

"Now, I am unaware of the specifics of the ensuing argument." I looked softly between the two lovers, though neither met my gaze. "I can only assume that it involved Gently Articulate threatening to end Good Conduct's allowance - leaving him to deal with his own substantial debts alone. Possibly worse - alerting his wife to his unfaithfulness, removing him from the will -"

"Disowning me." A voice croaked. I saw Good Conduct staring at me levelly. Red-rimmed eyes now looked exhausted, any anger having been lost.

"Disowning him..." I repeated. I stopped my pacing and considered the situation. "So out of anger of discovery, and fear of being left without income along with the crippling debts, you lashed out. A kitchen has plenty of knives. It's too easy to just pick one up and lash out." I didn't say it, despite knowing that the murder weapon was Featherlight's best knife. Why else would she have been so worried about it? Maybe there were still some stains on it.

"Do you confess to this?" I think it was the Chief of Police that asked that. Good Conduct didn't even bother to turn around to face him.

"Yes."

A stunned silence filled the garden. It was then that the first spots of rain began to fall. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"That's all I have to say." I announced, taking a step back. It was then that chaos ensued. Police ponies jumped up, clasping hoofcuffs on half of the family - Good Conduct and Featherlight (neither of which struggled at all) - as well as Bold Enterprise and Lady Grace for their illegal business (both of whom tried to fight back - one poor officer had to suffer from the old mare's powerful buck. Ouch!) The family that weren't being arrested protested loudly; Perfect wanted to be let out of her hoofcuffs, Pink Diamond was demanding to know how long the affair had lasted, and finally Quartz Crystal was asking what in Equestria was going on, and why had they arrested his daddy.

I felt sorry for the foal - he had seemed happier with his father's lover than his actual mother. It would be difficult to have to only live with her for now on.

Journalists were flocking the scene. Any second now, one of them would corner me for an interview. Exhausted after the presentation, I slipped on my saddle bags and approached Classic Corduroy, who was trying to restrain Lady Grace.

"I want paying." I stated bluntly. I was too tired for niceties.

"Why should I pay you?" The Detective's moustache wriggled disapprovingly.

"Because I just solved your case for you, and told you about illegal business practices. I should at least get a shiny penny and a pat on the head."

"You are just some silly filly pretending to -"

"Obviously, your fee will be dealt with in due course." The friendly voice of the Chief announced, appearing at my side. I didn't catch the look he gave Corduroy.

"What about our agency's fees?" I turned to the shackled mare, feeling rather superior, "We solved your murder like you asked, and that doesn't come free."

"I ought to have -"

"What?" I interrupted, "Bribed us at the start so none of this would have happened? Sorry, Lady, but that was never going to happen."

She looked like she wasn't even going to reply to me, but eventually she spat out, "I wrote two cheques earlier. They're in my room."

I smiled back gratefully, and, upon seeing the advancing wall of journalists, kicked up into the air, ready to let myself in through a nearby window and collect my rent money.

Perhaps, I considered, I ought to start using doors properly...

Author's Note

Finished! Though I think there will be a short epilogue...
Sorry it's a bit late - I've been so busy today (so I should have started writing sooner in the week...)

Hope you enjoyed it!

(I'll put some more of my thoughts on the story into the notes in the epilogue - whether you want them or not)

Epilogue: Ready For A Stiff Drink

"So it was the son?"

"Yeah..."

"And the whole company was breaking the law?"

"Hmm."

"... Not bad for three days work." Orion raised an eyebrow to me. We weren't trying to do any training tonight. I was too tired - and I had finally been to the doctors. I did crack a rib. Technically, one sparkly unicorn spell later and it was fixed - no need to rest for several weeks - so if we had wanted to train we could have done. To be honest, I think Orion was feeling a little bit guilty for cracking it in the first place. Not that he had tried to apologise or anything...

"I can't decide if I prefer three days of panic, or a full week of sentry duty..." I took a sip from the bottle we were sharing. It was only a cheap bottle of cider, seeing as my friend was on sentry duty tonight. No self-respecting Night Guard would ever turn up to work drunk. Some disrespectful ones have, though... I have a vague memory of being one of them, once... "Actually, no - I'd rather let a manticore chew my face off than do sentry duty."

Orion took the bottle from me and took a swig. "I seem to remember that actually happened... you know when we were a-"

"I remember." I replied curtly. It had taken ages for the bite marks to fade. There was still a small group of uneven lumps on my cheek where it had caught me - not that you could see them under the navy fur. Or my mane. I subconsciously rubbed a hoof to them.

Beside me, the tall bat pony stretched. He had only just woken up, greeted by the setting Sun and a very exhausted mare carrying a celebratory bottle of cider. The Sun was taking its merry time tonight, and had only just ducked the horizon. We were bathing ourselves in the first rays of moonlight, sat on the roof of the Royal Guard's barracks. Luckily for us, it had stopped raining by now. That didn't stop the roof tiles from being wet, but I was too tired to worry about a soggy rump.

"You were always a good guard," he reminisced, "nopony could beat you in aerial combat - except Ghoul, of course."

"I bet they could now." I leaned so that I was lying on by back, gazing up at the darkening skies. Every ache and pain from the last few days had decided to keep me company that night. "You did - you cracked my rib. And that officer the other night; he might not have beaten me, but I certainly didn't win."

"Officer Cadaver..." Orion smirked, "you know, we all think he's the worst officer - too fond of the rules. You should have beaten him easily."

"Yeah, well - maybe..." I looked away from him. "I had other things on my mind." I studied a hoof intently, trying to disguise my hurt pride. "Anyway, I left before I ever reached promotion. I'm just one of the standard soldiers - no reason to be better than an officer."

"No, Nocturne, you're a highly successful private detective who just solved a murder case without help."

"The only true things in that sentence are that I'm a private detective, and that I accidentally uncovered a murderer."

"Well, it's what the papers are saying..." Orion teased. I heard the rustle of paper, and was unable to resit taking a look. In his hooves was a newspaper with a large picture of me on the front, looking very focused and - though I do say so myself - intelligently attractive. The headline was: Private Detective Successfully Surpasses Police.

"Where did you get that?"

"Ghoul brought it in. He showed it straight to Cadaver and asked, 'is this the mare that beat you up?'" We laughed. I had known Ghoul since we joined the Guard, resulting in various hilarious situations - none of which our superiors had approved of. I hadn't spoken to him for ages...

"How is Ghoul?" I asked once we were in control of our laughter again.

"Doing well - he's just got engaged to one of Princess Luna's personal assistants. Apparently, she's a nice unicorn with a good sense of humour."

"She'll need it," I quipped back. The idea of my old friends starting to marry and settle down made me feel a little weird. Surely it was still too soon for that? I mean, we were all young and reckless and irresponsible, weren't we? A sensible portion of my brain reminded me that several years had passed since we were juvenile recruits. The aches in my body told me that I wasn't as fit as I used to be.

I told them all to shut up and go away.

My friend folded up the paper and laid it back down, though couldn't resist one small dig. "You had better be careful - all of this publicity might get ponies thinking that you are good detectives. Somepony might try and hire more than once in a blue moon."

"I'll brace myself for the imminent work load..." I replied sarcastically. Nevertheless, I snatched up the newspaper to see what they had written about me. Further down the page they did actually mention The Misdemeanour Private Detective Agency. "Conny probably doesn't know that I've already solved the case."

Orion nodded back, adding slowly, "You know the money the widow paid you...?"

"Yes..." I waited for him to continue reluctantly. I didn't like it when he used that tone of voice - it always made me feel nervous.

"Have you used it pay the rent yet?"

"No - I thought I'd use it to buy a life-sized replica of the Moon..." I hit him playfully. "Of course I paid it!" Snorting, I was glad that was all he was hinting at. "It was the first thing I did." It was about the only thing I could do with it - Lady Grace certainly hadn't put much in those cheques. I needed to have a chat with Conundrum about our fees, hinting to the fact that rich clients could be charged more than our usual fee - three bits an a nice bottle of red was only suitable payment for rescuing a cat from a particularly nasty tree.

Looking down to the training fields, I noticed some soldiers were already filing out. "You'll be on duty soon."

"Hmm," he ran a hoof through his mane and looked over in the direction of the Castle, "I think I'd rather face a manticore tonight, too. Sentry duty is so dull. I was promised that I'd be spared from it - as an officer."

"Obviously all of the regulars don't have the patience to complete the task. They need somepony with experience."

"I have too much experience..." Orion took a second to gaze at me contemplatively, "Actually, I'm going back on what I said earlier. You were an awful guard. You couldn't follow drills, you fell asleep on duty, and you questioned every decision. It's a miracle they didn't throw you out." His golden eyes sparked in the fading light. "You were a good fighter and you had a knack for surviving stupid tricks, that was about it."

"... Thanks?" I frowned. "Somehow, I think you still insulted me there."

"You're better off as a hopeless detective who doesn't get paid enough to buy decent cider."

I hit Orion for that. He hit me back. I threw what was left of the cider over him. He grabbed the bottle and threw it back at me. I knew who was worse off.

"Oi!" A voice called below us. Looking down the building, we spotted one of the Day Guard poking his head out of an upper-floor window. We shuffled back quickly before he could see us properly. "Some of us are trying to sleep - but you two keep thunking around like a pair of buffalo!"

"I think he just called us fat."

"And he's blaspheming against Princess Luna - how dare he sleep through this glorious night?"

"We should punish him..." I declared, just loud enough for the unicorn to hear.

"Upside down from the guard tower by his pyjamas?" Orion suggested the old trick.

"Good enough for me."

"Hey!" The colt cried out again, straining to get a better look at us. "Are you going to listen to me? I am a Junior Captain! You have to - oof! - hey! Put me down! Where are you taking me? Do you know who I am?"

"Don't worry, sunshine," Orion drawled slowly, carrying the junior captain's fore-hooves, "we'll put you back in a minute..."

"Anyway - we're taking you somewhere nice..." I reassured him, readjusting my hold over his hind-legs. He was ]suspended upside down between us, rocking angrily.

"I'll report you to the Captain!" He cried.

"Will you now?" My accomplice's smile glinted in the moonlight. "Funny that - I'm quite good friends with the Captain... Shadow's a pretty good stallion..."

"Captain Shadow? I mean... oh..." The colt managed to move his neck to get a proper look at us. The fear in his eyes was priceless.

"How are you with heights?" I asked, making sure that, even in the silver light, he could see the glint in my eyes and the fangs in my smile.

Author's Note

Thanks for following the story all the way to the end! I understand that my writing is far from brilliant, so I appreciate it if you've stuck with TMPDA until now.

Now I'm at the end, I've wondered if this should have the slice-of-life tag, seeing as it follows a lot of Nocturne's family issues, money troubles, and daily routine of working as a detective... (and I have to admit that the comedy tag I've given it could be debated) Oh well - it's written now. I should also probably apologise for the discount Fluttershy (known as Featherlight) I created. There's just something about shy pegasi that I can relate to... (so, as a bonus, I'm hoping to put actual Fluttershy into the next story...)

As I've said, I hope to write a sequel to this - but will do more planning next time. Unlike most stories I think of, this one was relatively unplanned and has a few discrepancies - which makes a change to what I might usually do, but I'm not claiming that's better... especially for murder mysteries and detective novels.

So good bye from me - for now...!

How Educated Must The Guess Be?

As a salute to the dereliction downstairs, the floorboards upstairs creaked every time I moved a hoof and spiders' webs decorated the lamps and candles that stood unlit. A small spider did show its face, peering around an empty vase, with various limps twitching in the anticipation of danger. I chirped back a high, reassuring note, and continued down towards my left.

Room three was identical on the outside to all the other rooms, but, unlike them, when I knocked the voice of a very grumpy pegasus greeted me. I didn't know what would have happen if I'd chosen to knock on a different door, but it pleased me to imagine it that would contain fewer bloody curses. I also shouldn't use the word 'greeted' - it was more of an angry brawl - but who cares about details like that?

Ignoring the final few insults, I opened the door and poked my head in.

I ducked quickly as a bedside lamp shattered above my head.

Shaking the pottery out of my mane, I said, "If that had hit me, it would've been assault."

"Oh, I thought you were somepony else." Dust Trail said by way of apology. She was lying on her back, on a rickety little bed; all four hooves dangling in the air.

"Most ponies would just lock the door."

"It's broke." I looked at the door to find an already mangled lock - not that I was surprised. The mare was lucky for the door to have all of its hinges.

Daring to slink further into the room, I crouched in readiness for any more projectiles. Normally, if a witness was like this, I would have taken things a little slower. Nevertheless, with a deadline hanging over my head like a dark cloud, pregnant with rain, I felt it necessary to move things along a little faster.

"I'm not in the mood to talk about Perfect." Dust Trail stated, calling the suspected murderer by her actual name for the first time.

"That's good - neither am I." I replied, settling my bottom onto the floor and leaving my still-numb wings to lie there as well. "I wanted to know about your time in The Exclusive Collection."

"That was ages ago."

"I know, but... we think there might be the possibility that the murderer was a worker there. Did you maybe stay in touch with anypony? Hear any gossip?"

"You mean - do I know somepony with a motive?" She interrupted.

"...Yeah..."

"If I did, I would have told you."

"You might have thought of something between this morning and now."

"Well, I haven't." She rolled over onto her side, making sure she was facing away from me. "Anypony that works in my old part of the business has a great reason to try and knock off Enterprise - he works on salaries and pony management, y'see - but Articulate was just some unseen, head business colt. You'd be lucky if you even knew what he looked like."

"So nopony that you knew?" I didn't hear an answer, but her silence spoke for her. I tried to rally myself - it could just meant it wasn't one of the art runners, leaving a huge range of ponies it could still be. But finding them would have taken an incredible amount of time - time I didn't have.

"I should have made a career selling fashionable horseshoe warmers!" I cried out, letting my head fall to my hooves. I wasn't a pony who liked to give up quickly - but everypony needs to release some stress once in a while. "Murders are far too complicated!"

Dust Trail glanced over her shoulder, a bemused look toying with her face. She was probably glad to see somepony else in trouble.

"You investigated many before this one?"

I grinned sheepishly, making a non-committal noise. "You know - about - er - the normal number of murders?" I would have found it easier to admit the number of previous coltfriends I'd had.

The pegasus laughed at me, rolling over so that she faced me fully. "You've never investigated one before, have you?"

"...No..." I felt my skin flushing beneath my navy fur. The kinds of cases I was used to solving were tracing lost items and spying on spouses to see if they had any clandestine affairs - nothing as damning as murder. I mean - fiery burning moon rocks - I had hardly even investigated petty crimes, let alone something as big as this. It was enough to make my wings sweat.

"I was told you had a supervisor of sorts," Dust continued, grinning mischievously, "is he just as clueless?"

"I have no idea - he hasn't said anything," I snorted, adding, "well, he's said a lot of things, but nothing useful."

"Seems the police will beat you to it."

"Certainly feels like it."

"And they'll arrest Perfect."

"Probably - no, wait - they already have."

My mustard-coloured companion frowned slightly, not sure how to take the news. Thankfully she didn't seem angry with me for breaking it so bluntly, but she might have been postponing the abuse. An already chewed lip re-established itself between the mare's teeth as she thought. Almost unconsciously, she twitched a wing at her side. While determined to sulk out the argument she'd presumably had with Perfect, it was clear that she was a pony of action. Everything other than her common sense was telling her to go and solve the problem. Only, whatever problem she'd had was now locked in a cell or being questioned.

"Are you giving up?" she asked, her tone carrying a sharp edge of derision and scorn, attempting to cover her concern over the outcome of my decision.

"No," I sighed, "I'll probably keep hitting my head against this metaphorical wall until it breaks, or better yet, tells me the answer out of sheer irritation."

"How are you going to do it, then?"

I held up a wing in front of me, each spiny finger of bone snaking through the leathery covering. "First, go to the office and look through some letters we found." I dropped one of the fingers. "Secondly, find a list of competing art traders." I dropped the next finger. "Thirdly, see what I found out in the previous steps and improvise from there." I scrunched my entire wing up into a ball. "My improvisation may or may not involve several strong drinks."

Apparently losing faith in me, Dust Trail's head hit the pillow in anguish. "Maybe the cops are right," she said in an uncharacteristically small voice, "maybe it was Perfect..." She snorted. "They always say that murders are usually done by the family."

"You don't believe her?"

"...I don't know - I did!" Dust ran her fore-hooves through her messy mane. "She would never do anything like that! But... I've heard the facts. And I'm not an idiot." She insisted, turning over to face me properly, "Everything points to her, doesn't it? Even if she never confesses, they could still lock her up."

"Almost definitely." I shut my eyes, ready to hit my head against the floor very hard, and very quickly. If the police solved this, it would be unlikely that the widow would pay us for our efforts. So I would lose the apartment anyway, because, by tomorrow, Perfect Eloquence will be confirmed as the murderer.

Curiously, when I opened my eyes, I was faced with a determinedly grinning face, so desperate it was nearly a grimace.

"You said 'almost'." The mare stared at me as if I were a retreating life-line. "So there's a chance."

"Only if I find solid proof, a completely infallible set of events, and probably a full confession from somepony else. And all of that must come before my contract terminates because the police have already solved it."

"It's not impossible."

"It's not likely." I snorted, laughing on the verge on hysterics. I only just managed to catch myself when I saw the pegasus' pleading face, knowing that I was the only one here trying to save her lover. "But I'll do my best." I stood up. "Just tell me one thing - why aren't you speaking?"

"Too many reasons." A teasing smirk curled the edge of her lip. "Not wanting to leave before, not telling her parents about me, not wanting to leave now, not believing that the truth isn't always enough. I'd forgive her for everything - I could get over it - if only she'd listen sometimes." She glared at me. "Don't you dare tell her that."

"My lips are sealed," I winked, "as well as any other semi-aquatic, fat, adorable mammals that can turn into verbs."

"...Sure."

Before any more of my madness could start showing, I left quickly for the office. Fearing for my sanity, I decided to blame Conundrum - without him around I was having to come up with manic ramblings just to fill in the gap. Next thing you know, I'll start wearing scarves in the summer and grumbling at young ponies.

Shivering at the thought, I leant against the peeling door and waded through the hallway. Conny, as promised, had left the camera and photographs that had been developed on my desk. Taking off my sunglasses and taking up the magnifying glass (which happened to be made in the shape of a trident, with the middle prong replaced with a disk of glass. I had Orion to thank for that - he bought it for my last birthday after solving a case where an actor had lost his trident before the premier of The Lost Fisherponies. Which was nowhere near as interesting as it sounded - it turned out that he had left it at his parents' house after a family meal.) I peered down to decipher what was in each of the letters.

Three hours later, and I had found out that none of the managers in the Exclusive Collection seemed angry with Gently Articulate - all of them earning a desirable salary from the illegal trade, and while there were some power struggles between a couple of the stallions, nopony seemed to be challenging the leadership of Gently Articulate or Bold Enterprise.

There were several letters concerning where art had been obtained from, and nervously admitted that some of the tribal ponies in that area were angry; nevertheless, nothing seemed to imply that they knew who had stolen from their sacred temple, let alone had the resources to travel across the globe to complain to the head stallion.

I kept these incriminating photographs to one side, intending to use them in case I needed to blackmail Lady Grace, add them to our own case, or sell them to the police to earn an extra few bits. My professional pride was preventing me from choosing the latter option.

The others I dumped in a pile and ignored, too bored to continue mulling over them. Telling myself that Conny would have had a rest on the train, I decided to stalk back to my apartment for an hour before thinking of what to do next.

Sadly, my brain wasn't ready to relax and continued to run through events, trying to make up its mind on the best course of action. This left me pacing up and down my bedroom, unable to nap, but not wanting to do any actual work. After half an hour of this, I came to the conclusion that I would have to look into the world of other rare art traders.

Not wanting to ask Lady Grace about it (knowing that she might realise that I knew the company was operating illegally), I had to face up the the alternative - talk to some other art traders.

The best place to do this would be at one of the several auction houses, where various companies would be represented. Unfortunately, to get into these auctions you needed to look at least slightly wealthy - otherwise ponies assumed you were there to make trouble rather than bid for extortionate artworks (which would have been the correct assumption).

I, being a poor single pony with no reasons to dress up at all, would be immediately thrown out; especially as being a bat pony wouldn't exactly recommend me to the patrons. So I needed somepony that could disguise me as an aspiring socialite with cash to spend.

My stomach began worming its way towards my hooves in reluctance - this would require a visit to my sister.

Her house was rented, though from a kind landlady who had managed to keep the dated house in relatively good condition. Close to this area, the town was filled with bars and music halls - so possibly not the best place to raise a foal. Although, I often commented that it wasn't Fantasia raising Lullaby at all - it usually seemed to be me or our mother, Sonata. The poor foal had three mothers who were all too busy for her, too often. It was a good thing she had inherited a forgiving nature (probably from her father - none of us had one).

Considering the time, I would have to attend an evening auction - one that was invariably fuelled by alcohol, and where the ponies talk easily. It was my best shot.

Before any of that could happen, however, I needed to knock on the door in front of me.

The paint wasn't peeling, but neither was it fresh. From memory, I knew the door handle on the inside had a habit of jamming, and there was a welcome mat that also caused the door to get stuck. On purpose, I knew my sister had chosen the mat to keep me away - it was embellished with the two-dimensional bodies of pink and purple butterflies.

Remembering that it was a Monday afternoon, I consoled myself with the fact that Lullaby would be home from school and may even enjoy helping me root through her mother's clothes. In the worst case scenario, she could have smuggled me down some clothes to wear without permission. Actually - I kind of hoped that would happen. I always liked going against what Fantasia wanted.

Without further ado, I hammered on the door loudly.

After several knocks, I listened carefully; there was movement from inside the house and a slightly grumbling voice, but nopony seemed to be getting up to open the door.

"Fantasia!" I hollered, pounding my hoof on the door. "Oh, Fantasia!" I listened again - maybe there was a little more action, but I deemed it unacceptable. "FANTASIA!" I cried, startling the neighbours. "I know you're there!" Hooves could now be heard stomping down the hall.

The door was wrenched open, displacing the mat behind it.

A very angry mare with a violet mane and flushing red cheeks glared at me.

I smiled back innocently. "Hey, sissy!"

"Oh, you." She refused to move out of the way to let me in, instead choosing to stare at her favourite little sibling with uncontrolled loathing.

"You're not busy, are you?" I continued to grin manically. "I just wanted to borrow some of your clothes."

"Why does this mare want to borrow your clothes, Fantasia?" A tall, handsome stallion asked from deeper within the house. I peered around Fantasia to get a better look at him as he trotted down the hall towards us. He was a unicorn, with his horn framed by a mane of emerald ringlets, each as tightly twisted as a corkscrew, yet springy like damp moss. An equally well-groomed coat shone gold in the dingy hall, sparkling like a dragon's hoard. A pair of apple green eyes widened as they settled on me.

"Hello!" I greeted brightly. "You must be Fantasia's new coltfriend!" I grinned widely, showing off my fangs and trying to make him feel more uncomfortable. I felt it was my duty to remove this stallion as quickly as possible to save Fantasia from losing him herself - it was my belief that she would never be able to keep hold of a colt as refined as this.

"I... I wouldn't wish to... to presume..." He glanced nervously at Fantasia, adding under his breath, "Who is this?"

"I'm Fantasia's sister, Nocturne." I held out a hoof for him to shake. "And you would be?"

"...Sun Dial..." He said slowly, holding out his own hoof like a true gentlecolt. "You didn't tell me you had a sister," He said to Fantasia, observing her carefully, "or that there were bat ponies in your family."

"We don't really talk about Nocturne..." My sister shifted awkwardly while shooting daggers at me, blaming me for a ruined opportunity, "She's... uh - adopted." The look on her face begged me not to correct her, so I obviously did the exact opposite.

"Really, Fantasia?" I shook my head disappointedly, "You shouldn't lie to nice stallions - I thought we'd got over saying the other was adopted about ten years ago." I couldn't hide my gleeful smile as Sun Dial looked between us, trying to work out who he should trust. "Actually, Fantasia," I continued, ignoring the murderous snarl she was giving me, "I need some of your clothes so that I can pretend to not be a bat pony like you do - I need to sneak into an art auction."

She didn't reply as she hovered between two possibilities - be the bigger pony and ask me to leave politely, or scream at me for ruining her chances with Sun Dial and throwing us both out of the house.

With little chance of ever getting inside, I resorted to dirty tactics. "Is Lulu in?"

"Who's Lulu?" The stallion's eyebrows raised worryingly as he stepped across the threshold and into the street, wondering how much he didn't know.

"Her foal." I hissed back in a false whisper, making sure Fantasia knew exactly what I'd told him.

"No - she's at a friend's sleepover tonight." My sister raised her snout into the air huffily, pretending not to have heard us. "And you can do what you like, Nocturne - it's not like you could ruin anything else!" With that she span around; blanking me, ignoring Sun Dial, and storming upstairs wailing.

We both heard the bedroom door slam shut from street-level.

The silence between us was starting to grow awkward, so I smiled apologetically at the stallion and started to move past him into the house.

"Sorry about that," I admitted, "she can get a little sensitive sometimes."

"It's not me you should be apologising to!" I turned back to see Sun Dial's astonished look. "You have just deeply embarrassed and insulted your own sister!"

"She deserved it!" I shot back, not sure why I was arguing with this complete stranger in the first place. "She lied to you - she lies to everypony!"

"I am certain she would have revealed it all to me in time when she felt confident enough!" He glared down his snout at me as if I were a festering puddle he'd accidentally trodden in. "Can't you see that your sister is a shy, sensitive soul?"

"No," I snorted, "she's a manipulating horse who can't hold down a steady relationship because nopony trusts her." I turned my back on him and stalked into the house, calling back, "And you should thank me for saving you a lot of time and energy!"

With that I flicked the door shut with my tail before he could reply.

Once I had taken a second or two to contemplate how odd the colt was, I hurried up the stairs silently; I really didn't want to interrupt Fantasia's tantrum. As I remembered, there was a cupboard on the landing filled with clothes Fantasia didn't have room for in her own wardrobe. They were also the clothes she wore less frequently, and in my opinion were a lot nicer than most of her other outfits.

Taking a moment to get my bearings, I started to search through the mounds. Eventually, I had pulled out a black beret, a blue silk cravat, and a pinstriped blazer. Adorned with these, I checked my look out in the mirror beside me, adjusting my sunglasses slightly.

Who said I couldn't look fabulous when I want to?

The auction was only just getting under way as I arrived, with several ponies still browsing the available artwork.

The hall the auction was taking place in had once been the ballroom of some noble pony's home, now converted into a museum and weekly auction house. The walls were lined with exotic statues, each varying from its competitors. Paintings were hung or stacked in rows, some watercolours, several portraits, and even a few abstract works. Nothing in the room was less than one hundred years old (except the rich ponies gathering around, and I might even have assumed some of their ages were over a century).

The art did seem to be grouped by which company had provided it, but no notices over whose it was hung anywhere - as if it was presumed that you should already know. Being an ignorant commoner, I was going to have to improvise.

Being careful to appear to be browsing the artwork, I eavesdropped on the conversations around me until one caught my attention.

"-terrible business with The Exclusive Collection, don't you think?" A bejewelled mare exclaimed, fanning herself elegantly.

"Isn't it just!" Another mare echoed. "I had been hoping to see dear Gently here this evening, however it seems that we will never be graced with his presence again!" This statement received several confirming hums and ahs.

"I tried to visit Lady Grace today - to bring her some flowers, you understand - but the whole place is overrun with police and detectives and all sorts of ponies you would never want in your home!"

"That's awful, Chrysanthemum! How the poor mare is coping, I shall never know!"

"I dare say she has a rather nice box of savings to console her." A cynical voice interrupted the polite gossip. I peered down the side of my glasses to see that the voice belonged to a tall stallion with a rather narrow snout. "As do her children."

"Oh Mr Affluence, how could you say something like that!"

"Very easily, Mrs Rose; for it is true!" This was followed by various refined gasps from the ladies. "I do not know a pony who would refuse such a substantial inheritance. Even to inherit the business with none of the previous profits would be a sizeable advantage."

"He is right, ladies," another stallion added, "my company would do anything to know how it makes such good profits."

"Everypony knows that," Mr Affluence replied haughtily, "except for maybe you and your company."

"Now I must disagree there," the second stallion conjectured, "The Exclusive Collection is so secretive it's impossible to even buy a share in the company, let alone ask for business tactics or try to make a bid for it."

"That's because to make a bid for it would have taken more gold than currently resides in the Equestrian reserves!"

"If the ladies and gentlecolts would like to take their seats now!" The auctioneer called from his podium, waving the small hammer in his telekinesis. With that call, I was forced to sit down and face the next couple of hours waiting for wealthy ponies to spend their money frivolously.

Once it was over, several ponies hung behind, including the auctioneer. Realising that I would need to start asking questions rather than sitting around listening for gossip, I stood up and stretched my legs, sauntering over to where the auctioneer was packing away his little hammer into a felt lined box.

"Excuse me, sir, would I be able to ask you a few questions?" I queried in my most refined accent.

"Oh, hello there, young mare," He faced me properly, revealing that while not stood on his podium he was an exceptionally short stallion, "I'm afraid the auction's over now."

"What I'm asking has nothing to do with this auction." I waited a moment to let my statement to sink in before continuing. "I am investigating the death of Gently Articulate, and would like to know a little more on how the business operates."

"Well, I'd be happy to help, of course - Gently Articulate was a well respected stallion among us, and if there was anything I could do to help...?"

"I take it that the art they sold wasn't solely distributed from this auction house?"

"Oh, no, definitely not." He regarded me distastefully as some kind of amateur. "The Exclusive Collection had many links with several different establishments, including the possibility for private buyers to directly contact the company."

"Similarly to other companies?"

"Yes, that's how they all operate." He frowned at my ignorance, which I dismissed - I was here to solve a murder, not to be patronised by some short colt with a greying mane and a little hammer.

"And yet The Exclusive Collection managed to make a substantially larger profit than the other companies?" I raised an eyebrow, but the auctioneer didn't reply; clearly they did. "That must have caused some tensions between the other companies."

"Perhaps it did," he ducked my question, shrugging nonchalantly, "nevertheless, I merely sell the artwork for what ponies want to pay for it, so I could never be sure-"

"Oh, please," I snapped, removing my glasses in one fluid motion, glaring directly at the stallion, "I don't have time for your act." I took a step closer, knowing that in this corner nopony would notice. "You see the art, the providers, and the buyers; there is no possible reason for you to be unaware of what's going on - except for your professional pride getting in the way!"

"Our clients greatly respect us for our discretion, miss," he replied tersely, though I could see he was sweating, "and I don't like to break trust like that."

"And I don't like to have a murder investigation hindered by reluctant auctioneers!" I hissed, jabbing a hoof at his chest. "So you will tell me - now - whether there are any rivalries between the other art traders and the Exclusive Collection!"

The stallion paled slightly, his face starting to grey like his mane. "Well, clearly they are all competing with each other, so there will always be rivalries between them... but... um - nopony ever really liked The Exclusive Collection's success, but I don't know a single pony who didn't respect Gently Articulate!"

"So most of the envy was aimed at Bold Enterprise?"

"Yes!" He squealed as I prodded his shoulder. I did it because he hadn't answered - but I would have done it again just to get him to make that noise again.

"There weren't any other companies plotting to take over The Exclusive Collection?"

"Not that I know of!" The stallion backed up against his podium. "It would have been impossible anyway - The Exclusive Collection is a secretive company that was made to stay in the family! Gently Articulate always claimed that he would never even give the business to Bold Enterprise when he retired - kept insisting that he wanted it to go to his son!"

"I know." I replied darkly, taking a step back from the now trembling auctioneer. "Thank you for your time and willingness to contribute, I hope it will be of use to the investigation." With that I stalked out of the auction house, not bothering to replace my glasses as ponies watched my retreat.

By the time I made it home it was starting to get dark. Too tired to enjoy the moonrise, I sank down onto my sofa, gazing weakly around my apartment.

It wasn't going to be my apartment for much longer, I thought; not at this rate. I would need to start thinking about where I'd be sleeping tomorrow night. I couldn't really ask Fantasia for any more favours, and my mother would never let me crash with her if she found out I didn't even have money to pay the rent. Knowing her, she'd pay it for me, and then expect me to retake my place in the Night Guard to pay her back.

Maybe Conundrum wouldn't mind if I slept in the office - it wasn't like he was there to complain. He also already knew that I didn't have the money.

I threw off the clothes I'd borrowed onto the floor, promising to myself to return them in the morning.

Not feeling very hungry, and so exhausted that dragging myself over to my bed seemed an impossible task, I rolled over onto my back and stared up at the ceiling. Nevertheless, I was reluctant to give in - foolishly so. I had no company that seemed specifically out to get Gently Articulate, and if there was somepony, it seemed more likely that they'd go for Bold Enterprise than the actual murder victim.

If Enterprise and Articulate hadn't been planning a way to keep the business between themselves, I would have claimed Enterprise as the murderer - and while he had been rejected and his hopes of having the business to himself were lost, he did have a completely solid alibi supported by two other ponies.

Maybe it was Perfect... it would at least be a nice, straightforward motive, committed by a mare who I'd seen to be hot-tempered, with no alibi to cover her, in the correct time frame.

So very simple...

I was watching her do it now; a knife in her telekinetic grip, a snarl on her face, and suddenly blood was everywhere. But the stallion didn't move towards the door of his study - he lurched towards me, gurgling and floundering. I pushed him away, blood soaking into my coat, drenching my mane. He removed the knife and came at me with it, grinning maniacally.

It was then that the knife plunged into me - only it didn't - there was an apple in front of me, blocking the blade. Of course there was an apple - it was a fruit knife. The slices were taken away by Featherlight, her tail dragging in the blood - no - dragging in the apple juice. She dropped the pieces into a stew pot, which also contained about five or six puppies. Then I felt myself move weightlessly over to the pot, hanging above the puppies which seemed content to swim around in the broth. A large wooden spoon knocked me out of the air, and I splashed into the stew - bobbing in the liquid as my landlord stirred the concoction with the giant spoon.

Suddenly I didn't want to be in a bubbling stew pot. I started to thrash about, but the heavy weight of a hammer was forcing me deeper and deeper into the stifling heat.

I gasped as I was released, sliding across the floor on the remnants of an apple and puppy stew. Behind me the pot had been knocked over, and my landlord and Featherlight and Perfect Eloquence and the body had all disappeared with a satisfying pop.

A navy blue hoof reached down to help me up, covered by a paler blue slipper.

"Princess Luna?" I asked as I stumbled to my hooves. Looking around, I noticed that we were somehow surrounded by the Royal Guard's training field.

"Yes, Nocturne," my Princess replied, raising an eyebrow slightly, "and might we just say, that while we usually visit the dreams of foals - which tend to be the most unlikely and creative of all dreams - your dream tonight was certainly the most unique we have experienced for a long time."

"...Thank you?"

"We assume that the investigation is not exactly on course?"

"No, Princess." I stared at my hooves, scuffing them on the grass. Blinking, I stared at the grass, realising that it wasn't moving beneath my hoof. "Am I still dreaming?"

"Would it help if you were to explain the situation to me?" The Most Merciful of Princesses asked, ignoring my question.

"Maybe..." I didn't want to disappoint her, so I admitted what I knew. "But, it seems impossible," I admitted once I had finished, "I don't think it was anypony in the company, and there are so many rival companies that would want to take over The Exclusive Collection..."

"Do you truly believe that it was the actions of a rival company which killed Gently Articulate?" The Commander of the Moon raised both eyebrows, making her look a little bit like my mother. Though, unlike my mother, she did seem interested in the work. She probably got bored doing official government stuff and attending ceremonies - maybe a murder spiced things up a bit.

I thought for a while, considering what I knew, who I had talked to, and what I had heard. "No... no - I really think it was somepony at the party." I remembered what Dust Trail had said. "Murders are usually committed by those closest to the victim."

"Families have the longest borne grudges," Princess Luna admitted, her teal eyes casting down towards the ground.

"But Perfect Eloquence didn't have a long borne grudge," I said downheartedly, "she only seemed to find out that day - and she would have to have kept that pent up anger for about an hour before lashing out at him."

"So it was not Perfect Eloquence." The Princess stated simply. "So who else could it have been?"

"Everypony else has alibis," I shrugged. A glare from the Ruler of the Night made me rethink my answer. "Well - unless Lady Grace and Pink Diamond were both covering for Bold Enterprise, then there would only be..." A supernova burst between my eyes. "Oh."

My revelation was rewarded by a cunning smile from the Princess. "I believe that you have come to a conclusion?"

"Well, I'd need to check with them, and speak with somepony else - oh, and write a letter to Conundrum - but, apart from that..." I looked straight into the Moon Goddess' eyes. "I think I have it."

Author's Note

Woo! I finally managed to write another chapter!
Only one more to go now, I think - unless I get the sudden urge to do an unnecessary epilogue - which is unlikely. However, there is the possibility of doing a sequel (heck - I could probably turn this into a series of stories if I was good enough), which I have big hopes of doing!

Hope you've enjoyed everything so far, and thanks for sticking with me this long!
See you next week! (As long as I don't get distracted by YouTube...)

A Slightly Less Hopeful Start

With a cry, I span, lashing out viciously with a wing. A satisfying grunt accompanied the feeling of impact. The victory was short-lived, however, as I soon found myself being tackled to the floor, leathery appendages pinned uselessly beneath me.

Rolling with the tackle, I threw his weight over mine. Dragging me with him, we tumbled across the ground, battering each other at every given opportunity. His own wing caught across my brow, causing my eye to water painfully.

Not wanting this to become a match of strength - he was bigger, fitter, and more muscular than I - my wings spread and I sprang into the air.

Rushing wind whistled past my ears, flattening them to my scalp. Tucking my legs in, I angled steeply, spinning wildly as he pursued me. Every second counted.

Coming out of the roll, I swept upwards, trying to regain balance and open my aching eye. Wait; this looks more like the ground...

Before I became a nasty mess to be cleaned up, my wings extended - wide - slowing the descent. A thrust later and I was soaring skywards. Beneath me the air shifted as my assailant overshot. I didn't try to suppress my fanged grin.

Listening carefully, I filtered out my heavy breathing and pounding heart. The quietness of the evening, the lazy summer breeze, the clinking of the armor as the guards changed. Everything as always; uniform down to the last hoof step. Except that - the wing beats - coming up behind me. Coming up fast.

Instinctively, I twisted, taking a clip to the wing, but otherwise unscathed. Unfortunately, he recovered before I did, and circled around to meet me again.

As I was tackled heavily, I tried to remember how this fight had started...

Obviously, I wasn't going to waste a second trying to escape. I might not know exactly why we were pursuing each other across the training field - but I knew I didn't want to be caught. Immediately I was squirming and thrashing, forcing his grip to loosen. Nevertheless, he didn't drop me, so I had to try a different tactic.

Freeing my wings took a bit of effort. Forcing them to flying against his weight was harder. Trying not to scream as I began our plummet towards the hard earth - that took a lot of effort.

It was a cruel tactic. Speeding into the ground, you give your attacker two options; crash with you, or let go and save themselves. You have to hope they choose the second option before you do actually land - it makes a nasty mess otherwise.

He, annoyingly, chose a third option.

A shift and his own wings were assisting our descent. Neither letting up on speed, nor backing off - one last chance. I grabbed and shoved, spinning us in a dangerous dance. If we were going to hit the floor, I wanted him underneath.

Inevitably, my partner knew what I was doing, and began to spin me too. Spiralling at this pace, with both of us disorientated, it was impossible to know who would land first. I tucked myself into a ball as he did the same, wrapped into one furry bundle together.

Still spinning, it was all a matter of chance.

In training, we were taught this in very controlled and carefully organised program. Nicknamed the 'death roll' by some of the trainees, the danger was explicit. Experienced as I was, I knew the fall wouldn't kill either of us - not if you landed properly. You might not even break anything, if luck's on your side. But it will wind you, you will be aching into next year, and your superiors will be on your case for doing something so dangerously stupid.

Luckily, I didn't have superiors any more.

Unluckily, I impacted first.

A blurry mixture of colours swirled above me, swooping reds and twirling yellows poured themselves around the sky in one big multicoloured mess. Deep dark blues like the bottom of the ocean spilled over the evening's rainbow, smothering the warm colors with the night's own calm concoction. The Moon was just starting to break the horizon, magically dragged skywards, making my body tingle in anticipation.

Actually - that might just have been my lungs waking up again.

Taking a shaky, shuddering breath, I refilled my chest with air; having been brutally knocked out by the stallion now looming over me.

He leaned closer, his bright yellow eyes almost glowing in the twilight. A triumphant smile twisted his lips as he slowly and deliberately licked my face - right from the bottom of my muzzle to the top of my fluffy ear. Oh - I remembered our bet.

"Ugh! Orion!" I squirmed at the warm, moist touch, batting away his face with a hoof.

"I told you I'd win."

"No you didn't - I said I'd never willingly let a stallion lick my face!" I struggled to my hooves, letting Orion help me up. He seemed no worse off for the fall. I, on the other hoof, was beginning to feel my left shoulder regain feeling - it wasn't a pleasant one.

"But your sister would." He smirked, showing off his gleaming fangs. To anypony else, seeing Orion would be the stuff of nightmares. He towered over most ponies, had a habit of grinning in a way that only showed off his fangs, and his eyes had a worrying glint to them that always made him look like he knew more than he was letting on. Oh, and of course, he was a bat pony - a perfectly sound reason to find him terrifying. Because we bat ponies are the terrors of Canterlot.

"Are you alright?" He brushed his mane out of his eyes, as if to show that he was absolutely fine. His mane was also fine - it was the type that looked best while windswept and untamed. I tried to suppress my jealousy.

I failed miserably.

"Been worse," I stretched out, feeling several muscles protesting at their rough treatment, "I'll be in agony by the morning, though."

"I'm sure you'll manage - you aren't on guard duty all night." He helped me over to the edge of the training field, where several young regulars had gathered, waiting for the night's activities.

"No, instead, I have to sit around in a musty old office and hope Conny's actually accepted some work for us," I sighed, ignoring the looks I got from the pups. Newly sworn-in guards are always so over-excitable - you fall from the sky and suddenly they think you must be one of Princess Luna's descendants. "If he doesn't take any work soon I'll lose the apartment."

"You're still welcome to rejoin the g-"

"No."

"Nocturne, be reasonable - you get paid hardly anything, doing work nopony else will touch - when you could just come back with no questions asked!"

"The answer's still no," I jabbed a hoof at his chest, "I didn't go through all of that trouble to leave just to give up and come crawling back. Do you know how much paperwork I had to fill out?"

"We could always just burn it and pretend you never left."

But I didn't get to enforce my point any further, as a nervous looking pup with eyes as round as the Moon shuffled over.

"Um, excuse me, miss - but didn't you just crash?"

"No, the sky dropped me - it happens sometimes when you're not concentrating." I hissed back, sending the soft little creature scurrying back to his friends. "I'd better be off; see you tomorrow."

"Try not to scare too many ponies while you're out." Orion thumped me across my aching shoulder as I passed him. I replied with a well-aimed kick in the flank. We shared such a caring friendship. "Oh, Turny!" He called after me, "Not tomorrow - it's the Summer Sun Celebration - I'll be busy all night!"

"Sure thing!" I hurried off; Conundrum didn't like it when I was late.

The sign hung limply above the street, its paint peeling away from the wood and spiders making their homes in the fittings. Once, it would have been a striking deep purple, the rich colour of summer flowers, with glossy black writing carefully painted over. The writing was now an uninspiring grey, and looked frail rather than eccentrically embellished. It declared, with a rather apologetic tone:

The Misdemeanor Private Detective Agency

I hoofed open the door, kicking away the newspapers that littered the hall. To the left was our office and consulting room. Further down the hall was the kitchen, a sitting room filled with dusty old books, and a spiral staircase leading upstairs. I had never been up there. Forcing open the office door, I stumbled into a room heavy with the smell of dust, apple cider, and a faint lingering scent of cinnamon.

Two plush sofas faced each other in the middle of the room, floating on a sea of discarded papers and forgotten apple cores. Two desks and a pin board also occupied the room, pushed out of the way against the walls. Peeling green wallpaper relaxed against the walls, as if it had given up on hanging properly. A few candles lit the scene, flickering wildly as I let a draught in.

We worked at night, unless there was a pressing case. When I joined I had been given the choice, Conundrum being flexible for once, and preferred to stick with my old routine of living in the darkness. Seeing as we rarely had cases, this worked well for me - giving me the daylight hours to do my own private work without Conny getting involved. It was, however, rather jarring when we had to meet a new client at nine in the morning.

"Good evening, Sir," I looked over to Conundrum's desk - he sat there, staring at the letter in his flickering blue aura. His horn-rimmed spectacles balanced precariously on his snout, wobbling slightly as he wrinkled his nose. "Sir? I said - hello, sir!" Never mind - he only ever notices me if I'm late, but never when I actually arrive on time. Instead, I gave a mock salute to the mare on his desk. She sat resplendent in a small gold frame, bright eyes sharp and intelligent, though not without a slight hint of flirtation. A hoof had been raised coyly to her cheek, buffeting her sunset orange hair.

Taking my place at the desk, I picked up the newspaper and stared searching.

"Why is my coffee cold?"

"I made it over an hour ago, sir." I sighed and rested my head down, letting my excessive fringe fall into my eyes. No work - why was there never any work?

"Well, why didn't you tell me?"

"I did."

He huffed grouchily and pushed his glasses back up his snout. Shuffling the papers, he sighed again, and muttered slightly. Oh - he was going to start complaining again. I took a swig of coffee (it was my second mug), and settled down for a session of griping.

"Do you know what I cannot believe?" There we go.

A pause. Oh - he wanted a reply. "... hmm? What, sir?"

"We never get any really good work. Look here;" he levitated over a scrap of paper, "a request to track down a lost ring. Or this:" a second scrap floated up towards me, "'I think my wife is cheating on me with the gardener' - this isn't the work of successful detectives!"

"We aren't successful detectives." I murmured so he wouldn't hear, though added slightly louder, "Maybe if we took the work we would put our name out a bit, you know - attract some better work."

"Never!" He wrinkled his nose in disgust, "I am not putting my considerable skills to such menial tasks!"

"I, on the other hoof, have no such qualms." I closed my eyes - he would be tolerable if he wasn't such a snob, or even if his boasting was actually true.

"Now, young Nocturne - this is what I am trying to teach you," his tone turned to lecturing as he took a sip of cold coffee, "when this agency began, we aspired to great tasks. And as I still do, I will not have my apprentice taking on any jobs below a certain standard. We have a good reputation to maintain."

"And I have a rent to pay." I glanced up at him. His pale green coat, his greying blue mane, his moth-eaten woollen scarf - he must have been well into middle age, possibly older. I knew he lived in this house alone - no wife, no marefriend, no foals - not even a young colt lover with a thing for older curmudgeonly stallions. The mare in the photograph must have been a lover - it had been signed 'Dearest Conny, you're the final piece to my puzzle xxx' - but I didn't know what had happened to her, or even what her name was. Clearly he still loved her - why else keep the picture on his desk? So they must have parted on good terms. But whatever had happened - she wasn't there now.

So here was a lonely, ageing stallion, who'd taken on a hopeful bat pony apprentice nearly two years ago. He earned enough money to feed himself, but not well, and owned a rather neglected house in the rough area of Canterlot (though even that's quite pleasant).

"Something will have to show up eventually." He snapped, returning to his own work and blocking me out again.

He's been saying that for the last six months. I had to start taking on my own cases to try and piece together a few more bits. Terrible work - I'd spent a full week trying to find somepony's lost earrings, only to finally discover they'd left them in the fridge - or another time, when I had to track down a family's missing pet rabbit. I could never tell Conundrum; he'd have a fit - so had to act as an independent investigator that nopony trusted.

By now, even the awful work was running out.

Finally, the Sun was beginning to rise. I'd managed to find a job advertised in the papers, tracing back somepony's family tree. It didn't sound so bad - and they might pay well if I came across something good. I decided to visit in the afternoon.

Conundrum didn't look up as I left. He hadn't talked to me since I'd mentioned the money. Rejoining the Night Guard was beginning to look appealing - the captains were just as bad, but at least I would have Orion to complain to.

Where did I go wrong to start considering this? I might not have given much consideration to planning out my future career, nevertheless, I had hoped to be a little better off than this.

Out on the streets, Canterlot was barely waking up. A few ponies had begun to stir, trotting out on to the roads in their multicoloured throngs. They started to stare as well. I let them stare - no point trying not to. When I first came to the city I was terrified - not only were the colours blinding after what I had experienced in our colony's cave, but the ponies were all so different. Despite this, I'm quite comfortable now - quite a few of us bat ponies live freely in Canterlot. Some pretend not to be bat ponies, and cover their wings and put on brightly coloured contacts - like my sister.

Nopony takes her seriously.

With a grunt I spread my wings and took to the air - movement was becoming more painful by the second, but I was desperate to get home as soon as possible. A hot bath and then bed; what more could a mare want? Oh - and to avoid my landlord. The rent was due today, and I didn't quite have enough. One more week and it would be there - hopefully - though that's the fifth month in a row when it's been late.

Carefully, I eased open the window. It was four floors up, on a traditional spire-like building - there was even the pointed purple and gold roof a few meters above me. Catching my wing on the frame, I fell onto the floor, limps splayed out beneath me in an ungainly fashion.

Eventually I managed to drag myself to my hooves, made a sandwich, and eased myself into the bath. Eating while surrounded by lavender scented bubbles, I sighed happily. Sometimes, I loved living alone - no one could tell you what you can't do. A previous coltfriend of mine had held some rather ridiculous ideas about how our house should have been run. He didn't last long.

I might have fallen asleep there, if it wasn't for the hammering at the door. I prayed to the stars that it wasn't my landlord.

Rapping a towel around my dripping mane, I trudged slowly to the door, shaking drops of water out onto the wooden floor. The banging was just as insistent, even though I'd taken a good ten minutes to come and answer it.

"I'm not home." I called out hopefully, leaning against the door in case they tried to force it open.

"Of course you are!" a high, refined voice wailed, "You can't lie to me, Turny - now open this door."

I gave up and unlocked it, letting in the young mare. Her mane had been carefully styled into luscious curls, letting the light fall pleasantly on the deep pink and violet hair - a shade I knew was dyed. Her velvet jacket fitted her curved figure well, and covered over the wings tucked in at her sides. She glanced over at me, pink eyes wide and innocent, as they always were when she wanted something.

"Auntie Turny!" A small filly squealed at me, throwing herself against my leg.

"Lulu!" I gasped, returning the hug, but wincing as she squeezed the bruising flesh. She was a pretty foal - a coat as white as the Moon, and her mane naturally curly as it fell from the ponytail it had been tied into. Her pastel blue eyes stared up at me hopefully.

"I was hoping that you might look after Lullaby for the day," my sister announced, fiddling with the bangles around her foreleg.

"Why - are you busy?" I snapped back, more harshly than I had intended - though not without good reason.

"Whatever do you mean?" she cried, her pride wounded, "I have many responsibilities, which often keep me too preoccupied to provide full time care for my daughter. I have a very difficult life as a single mother!"

"You can drop the act with me, Fantasia," I hissed. Softening my tone, I turned to my niece and said, more kindly, "why don't you go get a snack from the kitchen, Lulu?" The filly scampered off before she could hear the ensuing argument. "So, new stallion or is it still that fat one - Pecan Pie - wasn't it?"

"His name was Soufflé, for your information. But no - he didn't get along with Lullaby-"

"-you mean he didn't want to date a mare with a foal-?"

"-so I finished the relationship." She ignored me and brushed some imaginary dust from her shoulder.

"You can hardly call it a relationship - it must have been more of a passing acquaintance if you've already broken up."

"I met this stallion last night after my gig," she continued, "Dreadfully handsome; he thought I sang quite beautifully. Incredibly proper - suggested we go out for lunch today rather than coming back to his house for the night."

"Better be careful - you might come across too strong for him," I smirked, letting her see it. Her tail flicked like it did when she was angry, but she held her tongue like the lady she wasn't. This was a mare who after a hard night out on the town had stumbled up to a guard outside the castle and told him that her name was 'Easily Pleased'. Heck - this was the mare who told me she likes it when stallions lick her face!

"So you'll look after Lullaby?"

"What do you think?" I might not have gotten along with my sister, but I had a soft spot for my niece. Everypony did - except the filly's mother.

"I'll pick her up this evening, if that's alright?" She flicked her mane back and trotted back to the door, "Thanks, Sissy!" The door slammed behind her as I cringed - I hated it when she called me that.

Stifling a yawn, I trudged into the kitchen, finding Lullaby perched on the counter, nibbling on the last cookie in the tin. Her albino wings were unfolded and relaxing in the morning sunshine, causing the pink veins beneath the skin to show. If it wasn't for these wings, it was almost impossible to guess her heritage. A pretty blue and pink striped mane, the white fur, the pastel blue eyes - not a trace of dark fur or sinister eyes.

"What time is it, Lulu?" I asked, rubbing my eyes and pouring a glass of milk for the filly.

"Quarter to eight," she announced proudly; they had been learning how to tell the time in school. Wait - why wasn't she going to school?

"Don't you have school today?" I glanced over to see her giggling behind a hoof, as if it were an inside joke I wouldn't understand. "What's so funny?"

"It's Saturday today." She took the glass, but I reclaimed it before it could spill. She would not stop laughing.

"I knew that," I insisted, "I was just testing you." The look in her eyes told me she knew I was lying. I put the milk back in the fridge and pulled Lulu off the counter, resting her on the safety on the floor along with her milk and remaining cookie. "Anyway - I'm off to bed. Wake me up if you have any problems. I left your paints in the cupboard, your toys are in the box by the sofa, and your books are on the shelf - keep your hooves off of mine." I had caught her looking at one of my terrible romance novels a few weeks ago - we'll just say that the content isn't appropriate for impressionable foals. Actually, the content isn't appropriate for anypony, and I don't mean because it contains 'adult content' - it was just an awful book. We'll just say that 'Twilight' - the epic romance of a simple unicorn and her bat pony lover - was less interesting than the contents of my bins.

"Don't let the bed bugs bite!"

"I'll just bite them right back!" I laughed as I scooped Lulu up, ruffling her mane and blowing a raspberry on her exposed tummy. She squealed gleefully and squirmed back to the floor. "I'll take you out for lunch this afternoon," I promised, leaving her to entertain herself. If I'd had it my way, she wouldn't have to spend so much time alone, but Fantasia didn't earn enough to send her to a daycare, so when she was busy Lullaby got left with either me or our mother. Neither of us had time to look after her either - we just made more of an effort.

I settled into bed thinking about little Lulu - she was a bright pup and incredibly enthusiastic. From what I had heard, she was also quite popular at school, though she kept to her own small group of friends. We had all worried about the teasing - with her being a bat pony, and having a useless mother who couldn't remember who her father was - but foals don't worry about that sort of thing at their age. Once they'd gotten over the wings, I think they forgot that there was anything different about Lullaby.

Tired, cosy and sore, I overslept. It was nearly three o'clock when Lullaby finally jumped on me, complaining that she was hungry. Every muscle was now painfully stiff, but the rumbling of our stomachs forced us out of the apartment (we left via the window again - I noticed my landlord loitering in the hall).

Having been short of money for the last few years, I'd found several cafes around Canterlot that weren't extortionately priced. The one I led Lullaby to was a small affair that you could only reach through a tight alleyway cramped between two competing clothes stores, up a flight of stairs, along a balcony, and down into a dark courtyard. Just how I liked it - one problem as a bat pony was that we were all half-blind during the day. A pair of dark sunglasses made the light manageable, and some did chose to live during the day; I, on the other hoof, still preferred to avoid the Sun's glare.

We sat outside at Lullaby's request - even in the shade, the Sun was scorching the very air we breathed. Well - I might have been exaggerating - but compared to the cool nights I was used to, I might as well have been sitting in an oven. Lullaby didn't mind it and was practically bouncing off the walls as we ordered.

While she had left to go to the toilet (sometimes I forget how small foals' bladders are), a waiter came over with our food. He was new, and looked like he'd only just left school. He sauntered over with confidence, our plates suspended in his purple aura.

"Your food, ma'am," He said with a strong Trottingham accent, laying down the food with a flourish. His mane was messily swept upwards, in a way that tried to look like it required no effort, but had probably taken up a good hour of his day trying to perfect. A pair of sea green eyes met mine as he smiled. "I thought you only came out at night."

"I like to see the Sun every so often to remind myself why I avoid it."

He appraised me slightly, lowering his gaze slightly. "It'd be nice to see you one night - I've got a bit of a thing for bats."

"Are you asking me out?" I replied bluntly. I had to admire his forwardness, but I could tell he was far too young for me, and I never dated stallions that took longer than me to get ready. Which gives them about ten minutes tops. Nevertheless, I humoured him slightly; leaning forwards and letting my eyes soften innocently - it's not just my sister who could play at this game. The difference is that I have standards and limits.

"Maybe I am - why? Would you be willing?" He didn't get a reply, because little Lulu had just returned in the nick of time. Exclaiming brightly that her hay fries had arrived, she jumped up to the table and began to eat heartily. Of course, like the responsible adult that I am, I had made sure that she had some salad too. Whether she ate it or not was a different matter.

"Oh, you have a foal?" he seemed slightly put off, but recovered quickly by saying, "You know, I really admire mares that manage to raise a foal on their own - takes a lot of control and self-sacrifice."

"And if you don't mind - we were spending the day together - so if you'll just run along...?" He took the hint.

The food was, as always, perfect, and we had soon finished. Leaving before the waiter could come back (I left him a tip in apology), we strolled out onto the streets, enjoying the pleasant afternoon.

All through Canterlot, preparations for the Summer Sun Celebration were under way. It was going to be big this year - the celebrations being held in Canterlot with three princesses attending; it should be a good show. Though, after the fiasco a few years ago with the princesses being captured by evil plants, security was tighter than ever. I seem to remember that was the reason I chose to leave the guard - the final straw on the donkey's back, so to say. Not that I was allowed to resign for another few years.

It was nice to enjoy the festivities without having to be on duty - bright banners hanging across the streets, and ponies beginning to gather for the all-night parties set to take place. I laughed at them in their excitement - you'd think the night only happened once a year before the celebration.

In the hustle and bustle, nopony noticed us weaving through the crowds, giggling to ourselves. Call me irresponsible, but I was telling Lulu ridiculous stories about the ponies of Canterlot. As soon as I had come to Canterlot, I discovered that foals were often told folk tales and other such nonsense about the scary creatures that roam Equestria. You soon realize that a lot of them involve bat ponies stealing foals in the night, or gobbling them up if they don't eat all of their vegetables. Somewhere along the line, somepony got the idea that we were immortal, blood thirsty monsters that lured away young mares. The wild imaginations some ponies possessed amazed me.

So in return I told Lullaby that they left offerings of cupcakes outside of caves to appease the dark spirits they believed lived there. Why dark spirits would want cupcakes, I didn't know - but it was worryingly believable. Don't get me wrong - I didn't think we should hold silly prejudices - I just found it too difficult not to make fun of them.

"Auntie Turny?"

"Hmm? What is it, Lulu?" We were just coming out of the most congested areas, and I had started to turn our route towards home.

"Will you take me over the pretty houses?"

Now these 'pretty houses' weren't just any random places in Canterlot. It was a few months ago when I was flying Lulu over Canterlot - to try and teach her a bit about flying, you understand - and I'd taken her over the posh bit (if you can even single out anywhere in Canterlot that's posher than the rest) with all of the private villas and homes of the insanely rich. You would get some funny stares if you just went walking through the streets, but soaring over it was a privilege I was willing to exploit.

Well, I'd be willing any other day, if my entire body hadn't been in agony.

"I had a nasty fall yesterday, Lulu - I don't think I can carry you that far today."

"But... but I bet you've done worse..." she glanced at me, her dark pupils stretching to breaking point. She could kill somepony with that stare. "...when you were a guard, I bet you wouldn't let a little fall stop you..." My career in the guards had ended after Lullaby had been born, so she'd been brought up being told exaggerated stories about her brave aunt who fought off manticores single-hoofedly and was on first name terms with the Moon Princess herself. Neither of those things were true, but she was too young to hear about what we actually got up to. It involved a liver-cripplingly large amount of hard apple cider and some potent Griffon whiskey we'd nicked.

But none of that compared to the look Lullaby was giving me now. It was as if my internal organs were shriveling into raisins while my heart swelled up against my rib cage, breaking bones mercilessly while I fought for breath. I think a vein burst in my eye as well.

"Okay... but just a short flight." She squealed and jumped onto my back, practically strangling me and she wrapped her hooves around my neck.

"Thank you!" I sighed - if I was the brave, experienced soldier, well trained and deadly, Lullaby must be the lethal assassin; you don't see her until its too late and you're already lying on the ground convulsing with sheer adorableness.

Gasping slightly, I shot us into the sky, muscles protesting but soon falling back into the rhythm of flight. It was turning into a beautiful evening; the sky streaking pink and blue and gold. I hadn't realised it was so late. This had better be a quick flight - Fantasia would be coming to pick Lullaby up soon.

I glanced down - we were just getting over the houses and their extensive grounds. Half of the reason they cost so much was because they took up so much ground space; when you live on the side of a mountain, all space must be conserved. That's why half of Canterlot is made of towers and swirling columns.

They were quiet beautiful really - some a bit ostentatious - but otherwise they practically shone in the fading light. I adjusted my sunglasses slightly. Several parties had started, though with a polite elegance with all of the guests in their fine frocks and fancy suits, with canapes and fluted glasses being given out by smartly dressed waiters. A funny thought entered my head as I wondered if Conundrum was going to do anything special this year; he forgot last time. Perhaps I could hang a festive little paper sun in the office.

We had nearly finished our flight, with Lullaby still ooing and aahing as we passed some of the finest houses. I could change direction and start to head back; the flight had taken us completely the wrong way to get home.

It was then that I heard the scream.

Instinctively, I scanned the ground, trying to distinguish where the sound had come from. There were several more cries as I searched. Then I found the source.

Angling down, I felt Lullaby tighten her grip as we plummeted to the earth, landing heavily in the resplendent garden of a private manor.

"Stay there and don't move!" I helped Lullaby off and galloped towards the group of ponies. One of them, a chubby pink mare, had fainted slightly away from the group.

"Gently! Gently, speak to me!" I pushed aside a couple of ponies and dropped down beside a lilac mare. She was trying to hold up a large stallion whose coat was stained crimson.

"Excuse me, ma'am - I have medical training!" I tried to get a better look at the stallion - the wound wasn't large, but it looked deep, and sunk down into his chest. It has probably punctured a lung at the very best. I rapidly covered it with my hooves and turned to a blue unicorn just coming out to the garden

"Fetch some thing to stop the blood!" He froze, obviously shaken, but nodded and backed into house. "Make it something large - some towel or a pillow or something!" I glanced down at the patient. In combat, I would have carried something to help with the pain, or something to knock a fully grown stallion out. On lucky occasions there would even be a handy unicorn with a stasis spell. As it was, all I could do was sit there trying to check his shallow breathing and think straight.

"Who do you think you are, and what are you doing!" A haughty voice boomed. A hoof reached over me, dragging me back from my work.

"I'm trying to help!" I screamed back, "Go call for a doctor - anything - just-"

"You could be killing him for all we know!" The alabaster stallion before me shoved me back, and looked to the bleeding wreck. I did too. It looked bad.

"Let her help, Enterprise! She'll be more use than you!" a new mare was knelt down, blood staining her grey coat.

"It will start drinking his blood if we let it!"

"Will somepony just call a doctor?" I shouted again, briefly wondering why nopony had brought something to stop the blood. Automatically, I pressed back down on the stab wound, finding myself uninterrupted this time. "Seriously, why is nopony helping!" I stared around me, desperately needing to know why the world had gone so red.

"Leave him be!" I heard a mare cry hysterically. The next thing I knew, I was lying unconscious on the floor.