A Study in Mint

I woke up the next morning from somepony vigorously knocking on the entrance door to our apartment. Although knocking didn't fully describe it, to be plain. The roaring blows of hoof against wood sounded more like whoever wanted to visit us was also eager to kick down the entire door. I doubted that was possible for one pony alone, but judging from the sounds, he or she did her very best to try.

Getting up as early didn't leave me as tired or exhausted this time around. Supposedly, the previous day's amount of sleep still took its toll, today. In a good way, to say the least. I still did start the day with a certain weariness, however. It's never a very pleasant experience, getting knocked out of bed like this. I hoped, for that pony's own sake, he better have a good reason for disturbing my peace like that.

Both eyes bloodshot, and my mane completely disheveled, I jumped up from under my sheets and made for the living room. Once peeking in, I realized Lyra had already outdone me in speed. She was halfway to the door already, currently stepping past our dining table with a light frown. She already did look fully awake, and probably had been that way for a few hours or so. At least, her features were hardly as hideous the way I guessed my own to be. Through it all, my flatmate didn't seen very eager to answer, only approaching the entrance in a light trot.

As soon as a golden aura of her magic wrapped the door and unlocked it, our apartment entrance flung wide open. It almost crashed into the adjacent wall, giving way to an evidently disturbed and sleep-deprived Time Turner. His eyes, wide in haste, had darkened rings of his otherwise light-brown coat surrounding them. I presumed he had hardly gotten as much rest as the two of us had. Realizing that Lyra and me had just gotten up to start our day, he blinked in a brief phase of confusion.

"I'm not...bothering in any way, am I?"

Lyra didn't mind him. Not that she ever did. Instead, she invited him in with a faint, sideways nod of her head, before trotting back to her seat at the fireplace. "News on the case, I take it?" she asked halfway there, not going for any sort of formal greeting.

In all honesty, I would have handled his request a little different; that included telling him to leave us for our morning routine, then return in no less than an hour. But since my companion didn't have any issues with his presence, and he came here mainly because of her in the first place, I decided not to cause any trouble. After all, I still hadn't exactly figured out my own part in all of this. Assuming Lyra had somehow introduced me to that game of hers, which I knew nothing about.

Leaving me still standing in my own door frame, as I looked onto the scene with a sense of bewilderment, Lyra placed herself down in her armchair. Everything seemed as usual. By now, even her sitting position didn't even irritate me any longer.

Time Turner glanced at me one or two times, while he walked past Lyra towards the opposite chair. He didn't say a word all the way, but I still didn't feel very comfortable, given the currently unfortunate state of my exterior. Sitting down opposite from the unicorn mare, he let out a deep breath. I presumed that, for whatever reason, he hadn't been able to stretch out his hoofs like that for most of that morning. Or most of the night, for that matter.

Assuming that cooking breakfast would fall back to me this time around, I started to walk over to the kitchen counter. There was hardly any reason for me to get any more cleaned up, by now. All the potential damage from this situation had already been done. I had almost crossed the room, my back mostly turned towards the two, as Lyra raised her voice to speak.

"Well then. What is it?"

Turner coughed twice, trying to dampen the sound with a forehoof. Part of me wanted to offer the poor stallion a glass of water, but I didn't want to risk any unnecessary discussion on the subject with Lyra. Or rather, I didn't feel like arguing at this time of the day. A good five minutes after waking up, I can't imagine anypony would. Besides, he managed to regain his composure well enough without my help.

"We have another one dead," he stated, short and simple, without any emphasis on his words. And yet, all what was left of the pleasant morning atmosphere vanished in an instant. Facing the counter, I couldn't make out neither Lyra's expression, nor the one of our visitor. Nevertheless, everyone in the room appeared somewhat tense. I myself did, at least. The short silence that followed spoke more than a thousand words.

"I suppose, you already know my next question, and I assume it's why you came here in the first place," Lyra began, as I started cracking a few eggs into a wooden bowl. "I need the name, place, and any details you can give me."

For myself, I tried to ignore the startling conversation behind me at my best, which - needless to say - didn't turn out very successful. There was a minor conflict going on in my head, and I couldn't yet tell, which faction up there would win. On one hoof, I did admittedly feel somewhat curious about what had happened, and wanted to take another look into the case. On the other, I really didn't need to face another dead body already. Especially while preparing food, only thinking about it felt like the least appropriate thing.

I figured I'd try to just let Lyra do her job so I could do mine. And currently, that job was cooking some breakfast. While I provided myself some distraction beating the eggs' insides with a whisk, the words from the other two ponies still kept flowing through, however. There weren't any other sounds to distract myself with, of course. For a minute or so, I pondered on the idea of one day placing something like a phonograph in the kitchen for these kinds of occasions.

"He was a restaurant owner," Turner stated. "Not far from here. Just down the street, actually. His wife found him lying in their bathroom this morning. His time of death must be a few days back, though. About the same time as the last corpse we found. His wife only found out about him now because she hasn't been around for a while...the poor mare had been out visiting her family for a few days...so there's that."

My ears perked up at his last sentence. Was he talking about that restaurant? I probably shouldn't have felt as emotionally attached to somepony I had never met, I told myself. Still, the idea of actually knowing about him before his death, as well as having waited in front of a deserted house with an undiscovered, dead body inside...the very idea sent a noticeable chill down my spine.

Naturally, it wouldn't take Lyra excessively long to confirm my fears.

"Strange," I heard her answer, as Time Turner informed her about the exact address. "Bon Bon and I were standing outside that house just last night, wondering why it would be closed at a time like that. I guess this explains it. However..." She paused, before clearing her throat, and - I suspected - for a somewhat dramatic effect. "There must have been more to all of this, otherwise you wouldn't have come here today. If I understood correctly, you're suspecting a connection to our other murder from yesterday?"

Still unable to see them, I suspected Turner to nod at Lyra's request. I also realized that I had beaten the eggs far beyond their point of exhaustion, since my attendance had shifted to the other two ponies' conversation, after all. Their formerly heterogeneous parts had well faded into a dark-yellowish blur. With a low sigh, inaudible for the two others, I produced a frying pan from one of the shelves. Gripping it between my teeth, I set the heavy steel object down on our gas stove as quickly as my tired jaws would allow me.

"Here's where the tricky part begins," Turner resumed. "The scenery appears quite a lot like the previous, including that gruesome writing on the wall. Written in the same substance, somepony's blood, even though there's none on the victim. We did find a few droplets around the house, this time. But there's no stab wounds or anything of the like."

"Oh," Lyra said, some surprise swinging in her voice. "The same word, I take it?"

"Quite so. And while I left Miss Hooves to initiate some throughout investigations of its meaning, she didn't come to any conclusion so far. Neither one of our victims seems to have any connection neither to the fashion brand in Manehattan, nor anypony who actually speaks Fancy as their first language. Adding to the difficulty, Fillydelphia hasn't replied to our letters yet, so we don't actually know anything about the mare's identity. Speaking of which," he added. "Both our victims rest in the exact same position. They're both lying on their sides, wide eyes, mouth shut. No wounds, or any other marks of outside violence. As if they hadn't been murdered at all."

He drew in another breath, before concluding, "I hope you're on the right track with that poison theory. And I can't say it more than enough: Derpy Hooves and me both are risking a lot by letting you do our job. Still, I hate to admit it, but we need your help more than ever."

Another silence fell on the room, which I happily accepted to keep up my cooking. This morning had been disturbing enough, as it was. I didn't think I could handle any more information inexplicably well. Especially concerning these details about the dead bodies, which I tried excessively hard to push out of my mind as it was.

After another five minutes or so, I finished up my bowl of scrambled eggs, which I had calculated to last for only two ponies. After all, chances were Turner wouldn't stay longer than for a few minutes of briefing. I already hated the possibility of asking him to leave because I didn't prepare any food for him. Which wouldn't exactly mark one of my most proficient times of social interaction.

Neither he nor Lyra had spoke a word during the entire time. As long as I was occupied with preparing our meal, I didn't actually mind. Only now did the awkwardness of the situation come flooding back to me. Looking back to the two of them, I spotted an increasingly tense Time Turner, which I could well understand after the past few minutes. As much as myself, he waited for Lyra to say something, and done so for a while now. Meanwhile, she had obviously sunken back in her usual trance, for whatever reason.

Sometimes, I did feel like punching my flatmate for her behavior.

Just as I carefully put down the filled bowl on our dining table however, she suddenly jumped up. Her eyes were directed at Turner, who started awkwardly fidgeting his front hoofs.

"All things considered, I think we should go, take a look at the scene right away," Lyra explained, to his obvious relief. With a look towards me, she added, "Care to come along? This ought to be interesting."

I admit, I looked up not without a decent portion of surprise plastered to my face. Had she completely forgotten about what I just did? She probably didn't even notice. Exchanging a glance with Turner, I could easily deduct the same confused reaction coming from him.

"But...but I was just finishing up our meal..." I stuttered. Lyra mostly ignored my perplexed tone.

"That's fine, really," she replied. "And thank you for it. But we might as well get back to it when we come back."

"It'll be cold by then."

"And it is not the top of my priorities, now. I'm asking again: Are you coming along, or not?"

"But...I..." Accidentally dumping a spoon inside the meal I had prepared, I bowed my head, and sighed in frustration. "Never mind. I'll be there."

A good ten minutes more, and we found ourselves stepping out of a cab, facing the building Turner directed us to. The deep annoyance of having my morning's work gone to waste was only matched by Lyra's newly found enthusiasm about what was to happen next. She was literally beaming with energy, as if there was some hearth's warming eve's gift waiting for her inside, instead of a dead pony. The very possibility of her placing the same value on both things made me feel utterly uncomfortable.

Interestingly enough, our carriage's driver was the same as last time. Again, Crossroads would be casually addressed by name from my companion, otherwise I would hardly remember his name at all. Which didn't do any good to distract my thoughts at the moment. In all honesty, I was too preoccupied wondering why in Equestria I even bothered coming along in the first place. When a pony actually does start to question her own sanity, minor details like this seem to fade into an utmost irrelevance.

In a sense of sorrow, I thought back to the good old times, when all I was looking forward to was producing some candy for kids. Not running around town, chasing after serial killers, while constantly worrying about my impending bankruptcy. Hadn't that only been three days ago? Oh well.

While we rushed past a number of more streets and intersections, an idea suddenly came to me. I could always document our strange murder case, then have it published in the Ponyville Express or elsewhere, as soon as we'd finish it off. It probably wouldn't be able to support myself in the long run, but it was still worth a try. I made another mental note to discuss it with Lyra in due time.

Arriving at the restaurant, we stepped in through the front door, entering the business's public area. Being the only official of the three of us, Time Turner went in first, as usual. Lyra followed his lead close behind, shivering with anticipation, as she let me take of the rear.

Of course, the restaurant remained closed at a time like this, so the many tables scattered all across lay mostly deserted. Three or four stools rested on each, placed on top of them upside down, in an effort to ease the cleaning staff's job. The entire scenery made an impression like the restaurant had just been closed for the night, giving it a particularly morbid touch.

Right in front of us, at a table close to the staff's counter, two ponies sat across from each other, expecting our arrival. One of them, I immediately identified as Time Turner's colleague, Derpy Hooves. She greeted each of us with a simple nod, being the mare of little words, whom I assumed she was. Opposite from her sat a middle-aged earth pony mare. Maybe I simply imagined it at the moment, but I meant to see her crimson mane starting to fade into a light-silvery gray at several spots.

She was visibly shaken from the unexpected turn of events, her face being more pale than what would have seemed healthy, despite the color of her coat being a very light shade of beige, already. Dried streaks of liquid on her cheeks indicated she had been crying quite a lot this morning. Given the circumstances, I could hardly hold it against her.

I frowned; considering the two ponies accompanying us came here only on official duty, and Lyra being...well, Lyra, I was the only one in the room for the poor mare to receive some genuine empathy from. And I didn't even know who she was, or what kind of reasoning brought myself here.

"Anything new?" Turner asked his partner in a very businesslike approach. Miss Hooves then shook her head in a similar manner.

"Nothing so far...I've basically been waiting for you to come back." Looking at Lyra, she added, "The body is still upstairs, if you're looking for that."

Lyra nodded, after taking a few minutes for her eyes to thoroughly scan the room for clues. Or so, I presumed. "That would be off to a good start. Come along, then."

I obeyed, for now. The expectation of another pony lying dead to my hooves in the course of twenty-four hours wasn't exactly something to look forward to. Of course, neither was staying in a room with two unnerved officials of the law, who had every right to question my mere presence at this place.

I forced myself to hold back a groan while following my companion up the staircase. She went ahead with a level of determination that I hadn't thought possible of most ponies I knew. Then again, Lyra was hardly most ponies.

Reaching the top floor, she took a short leap ahead, just before stopping dead in her tracks. "Well, well," I heard her call out as I made for the last few steps myself. "Would you look at that."

I stepped right beside her, already expecting what I'd see. And, to my own disturbance, I felt considerably less repelled by the sight than I had last time. Apart from that, it was all the same imagery. There was a dark gray unicorn stallion lying dead in front of us, his face telling a tale of the horror he must have gone through in his last moments. His body had distinctly dropped against the back bathroom wall, a few feet of from the sink. On the wall directly above him, somepony had left a fairly familiar writing. The word POMME was - once again - looking back at us, smeared on the white, ceramic tiles. And again, it was evidently written in blood, even though there were no marks of any harm on the corpse.

Lyra swiftly bent down, sniffing the stallion's lips, before the faintest notion of a smirk came over her face.

"Poison," she proclaimed. "Looks like we've got ourselves a serial killer."

"You do seem excited about that, if I may say so?" I raised an eyebrow at her last comment.

"Are you kidding me?" Lyra asked, grinning widely. "This is the best thing that could happen. There's so few things going on in this town, I thought I'd die of boredom, sooner or later." Concluding, she bent back down, examining the body. "This should only take a few minutes...I guess Time Turner is already waiting for me reporting anything I've found."

And with that, she dived back down into her observations. All the while, I remained at the room's entrance, opposite of her. Sitting back on my haunches, I let my gaze wander around the room, trying to ignore that my companion and I were inside an abandoned building, looking at the corpse of a violently murdered stallion, whom - apparently - she had known somewhat well. The lack of emotion that remained with Lyra Heartstrings throughout the entire day startled me more than ever.

Believe it or not, I actually grew bored during the few minutes she spent rushing about the evidence, trying to squeeze every last bit of information out of it. Only figurative squeezing, of course. Since there was nothing else to do, I began lightly tapping one of my fore hoofs on the ground halfway through Lyra's examination, making her stop within an instant.

"Shut up," she casually noted in my direction. I raised an eyebrow at her.

"I didn't say anything."

"Yes, you did. Enough to distract from the evidence, anyway. Don't speak, alright. Don't move, either. I'm almost done here."

Almost in a sense of ironic amusement, I ceased every last motion of my own, sitting perfectly still for another two minutes or so. Lyra crouched down next to the stallion's neck, watching it in suspicion for quite another while, before jumping back up on all fours, and directing her attention back to me.

"Perfect. Let's go," she said, cracking her neck a few times. Before I knew it, the mint green unicorn started rushing back to the staircase, leaving me behind in utter bewilderment. Only snapping out of that did I turn and follow her.