A Murder On Lilac Lane

Several days after Moneybags’s will hearing found Loose Leaf and Constable Reginald Haye tooling south on the M22 from Bridleborough, toward the little hamlet of Maresfield, near Sussex. The reason they were going there was some very interesting things Pandora Blackhoof had told them, things which opened up new leads in their investigations and had led them to at least one new suspect in what they now knew was the murder of Moneybags and Goldbit.

That suspect, who they hoped would be willing to talk to them, was one Pinchpence, who lived on Underhill Road in Maresfield.

According to Pandora, by way of what Goldbit had told her during the course of their relationship, Pinchpence and Moneybags had been great friends from their days in college, until some twenty years later. Moneybags, having grown greedier and more avaricious in his pursuit of wealth, had swindled Pinchpence out of almost all of his money in what bordered on a fraudulent land deal. Pinchpence was left virtually penniless and destitute.

Quite surprised, Haye and Leaf had quickly concluded that Pinchpence could very well have been the one who murdered Moneybags. He certainly had ample motive. A primary question that remained to be answered was whether or not that motive was sufficient to drive Pinchpence to commit the crime. Excited by this new possibility Constable Haye had decided to use some of his accumulated holiday entitlement in order to free him from his normal duties, that he and Leaf could pursue this new lead.

Leaf, for her part, had closed her tea shop claiming family troubles, which seemed a reasonable thing to do since she wanted more than anything to be part of whatever Reg had in mind and to be there with him in order to render all assistance.

As for Pandora, well, they’d insisted that it would be better if she were to let them conduct this not-quite-proper police interview without her presence, as it would complicate things. Pandora had balked at this, insisting that she could and most likely would be most helpful in this matter. Still, Haye was quite insistent, and so Pandora very reluctantly agreed to try to stay out of it.

“Now, do you remember everything I coached you on about professional investigative conduct?” asked Haye as he drove, being mindful to keep his eyes sharp upon the road.

“Of course, Reg! You coached me what seems like at least a hundred times on it. You can be sure I’m quite certain of what’s required of me,” Leaf said with some annoyance and a roll of her eyes. Haye had gone to the point of drilling her as if she were one of the Royal Elite Guard preparing for a special operations mission!

“I just want to make sure. After all, what we’re doing isn’t exactly proper police procedure.”

“I can appreciate that, but if you ever do something like that again and you show up wearing an officer’s uniform and carrying a riding crop, I’ll be most cross with you!” Leaf teased, relaxing and smiling.

Haye chuckled at that, glad that Leaf’s sense of humor was fully intact on what was, for them, a tense and questionable mission.

“So you’re absolutely certain your superiors have no idea what we’re doing?” asked Leaf with a frown.

“As far as they know, I’m off for a fortnight with you on a seaside holiday.” He smirked at the cleverness of the scheme, winking at her.

“Oh, but wouldn’t that be lovely?” Leaf said, her eyes sparkling at the thought.

Haye, grinning and raising an eyebrow, glanced at her. “You didn’t impress me as being the romantic type.”

“Well, you’ve been so focused on this murder case, I’m not surprised you didn’t notice,” she replied, grinning and patting his foreleg, causing him to chuckle.

Suddenly, the inside of the steamer was filled by a blinding flash, accompanied by a sound like a party cracker. Momentarily blinded, Haye threw the wheel of his vehicle. The steamer swerved violently, almost colliding with another that was passing on their right. Leaf screamed, covering her head and face with her fore hooves. She instinctively hunkered down in her seat, fearing a bomb had gone off in the back of the steamer.

“Bloody hell!” Haye shouted as he slammed the brakes, almost causing a rear-end collision with a steamer behind them. This was followed by a screech of brakes, the loud honking of a horn, and furiously shouted obscenities from the other driver as he passed by them. Regaining control of the vehicle, Haye quickly pulled it over to the shoulder, coming to a full stop.

Shocked and gasping, Leaf and Haye were greatly relieved that they weren’t blown to pieces. Looking toward the source of the flash in the back seat, they were startled to find Pandora sitting there, coolly toying with her hooves.

“Pandora?!” exclaimed Leaf in alarm. “What is this? How…? What…?”

“Pandora!” Haye shouted angrily, still gasping. “What are you doing back there, and how did you do that?”

“I simply couldn’t stay out of this,” she said flatly, face expressionless as she fluffed her hair with a flip of her head. “I just had to be with you to see Pinchpence.”

“We told you to stay out of this!” shouted Haye. Leaf said nothing, but she did level a glare on Pandora.

“Oh, I simply couldn’t!” Leaning forward, Pandora placed her fore hooves on the seat backs. “I mean, I was back home doing nothing more than pacing the floor and driving myself mad!”

“How did you do that just now?” growled Haye.

“Oh, teleportation,” she said with a dismissive wave of a hoof. “All changelings and alicorns can do it with training, even some unicorns. It’s very handy—saves a fortune on transportation costs.”

Calming themselves, Haye and Leaf both heaved great sighs. Then they frowned, annoyed at Pandora’s sudden presence. How now were they to deal with this new development? After all of their practice and run-throughs for their planned interview of Pinchpence, Pandora being with them was a real wrench in the gears. An especially inconvenient wrench. Although having the best of intentions, Pandora had already shown  herself to be rather unpredictable and even flighty. She’d demonstrated this when the possibility of Pinchpence being a suspect had come up. She’d gotten quite excited and had wanted to run right off to interview the old stallion. It took some considerable effort on the part of Leaf and Haye to calm her down enough that she wouldn’t simply race off and do it on her own.

“Whatever are we waiting for?” asked Pandora with excited expectation. “We won’t get there sitting here!”

Leaf, scowling now, crossed her forelegs across her chest, but said nothing. Haye, having reached his limit, slapped the steering wheel hard and turned back to glower at Pandora.

“I thought we’d agreed that you wouldn’t come with us,” he snapped, “and now this? Please do keep up this sort of thing—I’ll have absolutely no reason to trust you anymore if you can’t keep your agreements! Off with you! I don’t care how you do it!”

Pandora’s eyes fell and her face grew long. “I just want to help,” she pouted. “I have more of a stake in this than you do. Someone killed my love, and I want them! Now!” She turned away and closed her eyes, tears welling in the corners.

“She does have a point,” said Leaf, softening.

“It’s too risky!” groused Haye. “She could destroy everything we’re working toward, not to mention put us up to our necks in hot water with Shetland Yard. Do you have any idea what they could do to me—or you, for that matter—if our plans are discovered?”

Pandora sniffled, wiped her eyes, then leaned toward Haye. “Please try to understand my feelings on this,” she said quietly, her voice quivering. “Goldbit was my love. More than that, he deserves justice for what was done to him. At least give me another chance to help you find it for him.”

By this time, a much calmer Leaf was quite sympathetic toward Pandora and, although she said nothing, she looked at Haye with an expression that clearly said she was in total agreement with the changeling. Reg’s brow furrowed, and he grit his teeth. He definitely did not like this new development one bit.

“Right,” he growled as he turned and took the wheel. “I guess I’ve been outvoted again. But don’t do anything like this again, Pandora! I mean it!”

Leaf smiled appreciatively at Haye as Pandora clapped her hooves and squealed with delight. As he carefully pulled his steamer back onto the M22, Haye began to seriously wonder just what he’d gotten himself into.

It wasn’t long before they came to a roundabout, which gave them two choices as to which way to go.

“There,” said Leaf. “Straight Half Mile, that’s the way. It should take us right into Maresfield. Then we’ll come to Nursery Lane, and on to Pinchpence’s residence.”

Haye continued onward until he came to a narrow, ill-paved, pothole-pocked road. Its shoulders were dotted with large wisteria bushes and various shrubbery interspersed with poorly kept hedgerows. Haye turned onto the road and headed on, finding he had to go slowly and carefully. Before much longer, they came to a row of older cottages. Slowing to a crawl, Haye and Leaf peered at the house numbers until they found Number 23.

“That’s it, there!” said Leaf, pointing.

Haye frowned. The lane was far too narrow to simply park his steamer on the shoulder. Shrugging, he pulled the vehicle into the short driveway that led up to the cottage’s garage. A moment later, Pandora having taken the form of a rather serious-looking and matronly middle-aged mare, the three exited the vehicle and walked to the front door of the cottage. Knocking, they waited.

“You won’t find him home at this hour!” came the voice of an older, rather frumpy but kindly-looking mare from across one of the hedgerows that served as dividing fences between the cottages. Leaf, Haye, and Pandora turned to see the mare approaching them from round the hedgerow toward Pinchpence’s. “Is this about the property dispute he’s been having with his neighbor on the other side, there?” she asked.

“Good morning,” said Haye, smiling, “and no, we’re not here about that. Would you know where he’d be, perhaps?”

“Odd, you don’t look like bill collectors,” said the older mare as she came up the walk. “Wouldn’t matter if you were since the poor, old fool has nothing to give you.”

“Pardon, but, again, might you know of his whereabouts? I assure you, we’re not here from any collection agency, and we do need to speak with him,” said Haye politely.

The older mare eyed them more intently now, scrutinizing them. She looked askance at Pandora. “You look like police to me. Is he in any trouble?”

Just then, Pandora stepped up to the older mare. “Please, ma’am, he’s not in any trouble, but this matter is rather urgent,” she said as she looked into the mare’s eyes. Pandora’s own eyes flashed for the briefest instant.

The older mare blinked, her face taking on a blank expression. But her smile returned a second later. “He goes fishing every morning from nine until around noon. He comes home and lunches, then returns to the lake until tea time,” the mare said, sounding just the slightest bit dazed. Then she turned and headed back down the walkway toward her own cottage.

Haye and Leaf stared at a now grinning Pandora. “What did you do just now?” asked Haye.

“Just some good, old-fashioned changeling mind-control.” Pandora smirked, her face taking on a mildly haughty expression. “See? We could have been here half the day trying to get an answer out of that nosey, old biddy. I saved us some time! I told you I’d come in handy!” Winking, she turned and strutted back toward Haye’s steamer, an arrogantly proud expression on her face.

Leaf and Haye stared at each other for a moment. “Seems she’ll come in handy after all,” echoed Leaf, grinning as she and Haye followed Pandora back to the steamer.

It took them the better part of fifteen minutes to navigate their way back to the roundabout, then down Nursery Lane to the rather stagnant and muddy Mareshead Lake. Parking the steamer on a grassy patch, they stepped out and looked around. Before long, they found an old stallion dressed in fishing hat, vest, and waders and bearing a fly fishing rod peacefully casting his fly into the water.

“Mister Pinchpence?” called Haye.

Pinchpence paused, turned and eyed them, a look of suspicion on his face. “Who wants to know?” asked Pinchpence as the three stepped up to him.

“I’m Constable Reginald Haye.” He smiled reassuringly, producing and showing Pinchpence his police badge. “If we may, might we have a word with you?”

“If this is about Moneybags’s death, don’t bother! I didn’t kill him!” growled Pinchpence sourly, laying his fishing rod aside. Leaf, Haye, and even Pandora stared at him.

“I beg your pardon?” blinked Haye.

“Oh, please!” grunted Pinchpence with a dismissive wave of his fore hoof. “He had many enemies, I among them. I’m not surprised somepony finally bumped the greedy, old bastard off!” Just then, Pinchpence noticed Pandora for the first time. His mouth fell open as his eyes widened. He stared, but said nothing. This did not pass the notice of Haye and Leaf.

“Odd that you should think it murder, Mister Pinchpence, since it was announced in the news-parchments that his death was of natural causes,” said Haye, eyeing the old stallion suspiciously.

“With as many as hated him, I’m surprised he lived as long as he did. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get back to my fishing.”

“I could arrest you as the prime suspect,” said Haye with firm authority.

Pinchpence halted and turned to Haye. His brow furrowed, eyes narrowing. “And that would get you absolutely nowhere, Constable, since I have an air-tight alibi as to my whereabouts on the day of that old bugger’s death!” Pinchpence growled angrily.

Just then Pandora stepped up to Pinchpence timidly. “Please, sir, this is important,” said Pandora, her voice pleading. “Whoever killed Moneybags also murdered my love, my life-mate. I want very much to see the killer caught and punished for what they’ve done, for what they’ve taken from me. Please?”

Pinchpence’s normally hard expression softened as he studied Pandora’s face for a moment. “Very well,” he sighed with an air of resignation, “but I’ll not speak with these two! Just with you.” He eyed Haye and Leaf, expression hardening again.

“Please?” asked Pandora, turning to them.

Leaf and Haye looked at each other for a moment, then turned and headed back toward Haye’s steamer.

“What do you suppose that’s all about?” asked Leaf when she and Haye were again seated in the steamer, waiting.

“I have my suspicions, but we’ll just have to wait and see what Pandora tells us when she gets back,” said Haye.

“Wait! You don’t suppose…?” asked Leaf, brow knitting.

“There’s no telling at this point.” Haye shrugged, glancing out the window toward Pandora and Pinchpence, who was now talking animatedly, his fore hooves gesturing and waving about expressively. Pandora listened intently.

“He’s a changeling like me,” said Pandora as she settled into the back of the steamer. “That’s why he insisted on talking to me and not to you.”

Turning, Haye and Leaf stared at Pandora. Yes, Haye had felt his suspicions, and Pandora’s statement now confirmed that. “How did you and Pinchpence know each other as changelings?” Haye asked.

“Changelings have the ability to sense each other,” said Pandora. “It’s how we identify each other when we’re impersonating ponies.”

“So what did he tell you?” asked Leaf.

“Something that I found most interesting. It seems old Moneybags had an illegitimate son, the result of an affair he had in his college days and—get this!—the mother was a changeling.”

Haye and Leaf now openly and unabashedly stared at her. Then Leaf dropped her chin onto her fore hoof, expression deeply pensive. “That’s it!” she blurted out a moment later. “We find this son, we find the killer!”

Haye looked at her for a moment. “How do you figure that?”

“Moneybags’s and Goldbit’s deaths, the unknown heir, and poor Pandora here getting nothing at the will reading—it all fits, Reg! This unknown son has everything to gain and nothing to lose unless we find him!”

Without warning, Haye leaned over the seat and, taking Leaf’s face in his fore hooves, kissed her on the lips, leaving her blinking and breathless, but smiling. “You are absolutely brilliant!” He then turned and sheepishly faced Pandora, who was blushing and giggling in the back. “And we couldn’t have done this without you,” he said to her. “I’m sorry I doubted you. Please forgive me.”

“Thank you for that, Constable,” said Pandora, beaming. “I’m glad I could help. Apology accepted.”

* * *

Days passed into a week, but, try as they might, the three could find no trace of who the unknown heir could be. Every lead they followed led them to nothing but dead ends. There seemed to be no trace whatsoever of the mysterious son—no birth records, nothing! Granted, Moneybags certainly had the kind of power and resources that he could, with some effort and more than a bit of bribing, have such things expunged from the permanent public record, but, as they searched and studied, something became subtly obvious. Even with all of Moneybags’s wealth and power, he couldn’t possibly have had every trace of the son’s existence erased. No, there should have been at least some trace, some sign. However, much to their frustration and dismay, there simply wasn’t any.

Back at Leaf’s still-closed tea shop, the three sat at a table near the back and pondered how they could possibly solve this baffling mystery. Pandora and Leaf looked at Haye sympathetically as he paced the floor, running a fore hoof through his mane.

“It just doesn’t add up,” muttered Haye in frustration. “There’s a missing piece here, and I haven’t the slightest idea of where we’d begin to find it.”

“What about that strange filly we saw, the one with the red ball?” asked Leaf.

“Did you say ‘red ball’?” gasped Pandora, staring.

“Yes, why?”

“It could just be a coincidence, and I couldn’t understand this, but the investigators found a red ball near the pool on the day Goldbit was…” Pandora hesitated, swallowing and pushing back tears. Seeing this, Leaf reached across the table and put a reassuring fore hoof on Pandora’s. Pandora smiled, comforted, and patted Leaf’s hoof.

“I’ll be damned!” exclaimed Haye. “I don’t understand how, but now I’m certain there has to be a connection between that odd filly and these murders!”

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. They all turned to see a postmare standing on the other side of it. Rising, Leaf answered it, took the envelope, thanked the postmare, closed the door, and looked at the envelope. It was addressed to “Pandora Blackhoof, care of Loose Leaf’s Tea Shop, 106 Lilac Lane, Bridleborough, SW”. Leaf blinked, then looked at Pandora. “It’s for you,” she said, stepping over and handing it to Pandora, who took it, opened it, and, removing the contained letter, began to read:

Dearest Miss Blackhoof,

Since our little discussion, I’ve been pondering what we talked about and, just the other day, I recalled something. Moneybags did once mention the name of his illegitimate son…

Pandora’s jaw dropped, and her fore hooves began to shake. When she looked up, she found Leaf and Haye staring at her in expectant excitement. “Come on!” she shouted. “We have to go! Now!” She hastily stuffed the letter into a pocket as Haye and Leaf leapt to their hooves.

“What is it?” asked Haye.

“That letter, it was from Pinchpence! He remembered the name of Moneybags’s illegitimate son!”

* * *

Forty minutes later found Leaf, Haye, and Pandora, accompanied by Police Commissioner Saddleford, striding with determination down a corridor in Shetland Yard toward the office of one Chief Inspector James Paddock. The chief inspector leapt to his hooves when he saw them coming.

“You’ve got some explaining to do, Paddock!” roared Saddleford angrily as he burst into the office, Leaf, Haye, and Pandora right behind him.

Suddenly, Pandora pushed violently past the commissioner. “It’s him! He’s the changeling!” Before anyone could stop her, Pandora, shrieking, leaped over Paddock’s desk, her face black with rage. She fell upon him and began beating him furiously. “You killed my Goldbit, you bastard!” she screamed as Paddock shouted, struggling to get free even as he tried to block her blows.

“Pandora, no!” cried Leaf as she, the Saddleford, and Haye raced forward.

A deafening shot rang out in the office. Pandora sat bolt upright for a second, her face blank, her head bleeding profusely. Then her eyes closed and she fell limply to the floor.

“Pandora!” screamed Leaf, horrified. She hastened toward the fallen changeling, but, before she could reach her, Paddock rose on his hind legs and grabbed Leaf, pulling her tightly to him. Leaf struggled to fight him off, but Paddock was too strong. Desperate, Leaf cried, “Help me, Reg!”

“Don’t do this, Paddock! Let her go!” growled Haye as he took a step toward them. Beside him, Saddleford reached for his own revolver. “If you hurt her, I will rip your head from your shoulders with my bare hooves!”

“Don’t!” barked Paddock, pressing the barrel of the police special to Leaf’s temple. “She’ll be dead before you get your shot out!”

“Paddock, what is all this?” demanded Commissioner Saddleford. “Explain yourself!”

“Very well. But first, everypony back off! Get out of my way!”

Fearing for Leaf’s life, Haye and Saddleford quickly complied. Edging out from behind the desk, Paddock carefully stepped over the crumpled body of Pandora and made his way to the front of his desk. There, he paused, glaring.

As Haye and the commissioner watched, Paddock’s form shifted and he reverted to his changeling form. What stood in that office now was a patchwork monstrosity—half-changeling, half-pony. His mane and tail were ragged and scraggly and his body alternated between grotesque, charcoal-gray skin and a motley, black coat, but it was his face that was the most horrifying. His muzzle was deformed, twisted up into a permanent, wicked sneer, and his left eye drooped within loose, sagging flesh as if part of his face had melted.

“My life was perfectly hidden away behind my disguise for years,” Paddock hissed. “How did you find out?”

“It was me!” answered Haye. “You got sloppy. It was your report proclaiming Moneybags’s death by natural causes that made me wonder. The rest was just a matter of investigation and some lucky breaks.”

“Clever colt,” sneered Paddock, as he began inching toward the door, hauling a trembling Leaf with him.

“So how did you do it?” snarled Haye.

“You mean kill my father, Moneybags? That was the easiest thing in the world! It was simply a matter of finding and casing out the perfect location to commit the murder, which happened to be your pretty little mare’s tea shop. And as for my half-brother, Goldbit, it was just a matter of holding him under the water until he stopped fighting.”

“Wait…” Haye’s eyes widened. “You were the little filly with the red ball?”

“Of course, you idiot!” shouted Paddock. “How else could I have cased them both without being noticed? I’m sure you would have found it very odd if Chief Inspector James Paddock came poking about without good reason, now wouldn’t you?”

“And the bee stinger?”

“Oh, you are quite the clever colt, aren’t you? Fine! I used a circus bee trained specifically to go after my father. The stinger was dipped in untraceable poisons. Now, get out of my way!”

Haye and Saddleford stepped further away from the door. Paddock warily crept closer to it. Holding tightly to Leaf, the barrel of his weapon still leveled against her temple, Paddock quickly slipped through the door and down the hallway.

A moment later found Haye and Saddleford, accompanied by a dozen armed officers, racing down the stairs to the main entrance of Shetland Yard. They paused only long enough to see where Paddock had gone—there! Moving quickly with Leaf across the parking lot to his steamer. Already, a score of armored and well-armed police ponies had taken up positions around the vehicle, their weapons raised and ready to fire.

“Hold your fire! You might hit the hostage!” shouted Saddleford to the armed ponies. They lowered their weapons, casting quick glances toward him for further orders.

Haye saw Paddock reach a steamer sedan. He struck Leaf upon the head with the butt of his revolver, knocking her unconscious. Opening the back door of the steamer, he threw her unceremoniously into the back seat and slammed the door shut. Paddock then leapt into the driver’s seat and, stomping on the accelerator, tore out of the parking lot onto Victoria Street with tires squealing.

“You’re just letting him go?” Haye fumed at Saddleford. He didn’t wait for an answer, galloping off across the parking lot to his own steamer. Saddleford hastened close behind.

“What do you think you’re doing? You’re not going after that madpony yourself, are you?” huffed Saddleford as Haye reached his steamer.

Haye paused and glared at Saddleford, resolute. “With all due respect, sir, I have to do this. Don’t try to stop me.”

Saddleford stared at him for a moment, and then asked, “That mare… She means a lot to you, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, sir, she does. More than you know.”

Saddleford saw there was no arguing with Haye about this—he would go whether he was ordered to or not. “Do you have your weapon?” he asked.

The Commissioner eyed Haye for a moment, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Very well," he said, "but you be careful and don't get yourself hurt or worse!"

“Thank you, sir,” said Haye gratefully. He shut the door and threw the steamer into reverse. Tires screaming, he tore out of his parking space, spun the vehicle, and then, throwing it into forward, roared out of the lot. Leaning on his horn and calling on all of his driving skills, Haye pushed his steamer to the limit in hot pursuit of Paddock. Not long after, he was followed by police cruisers with lights flashing and sirens screaming.

Paddock blinked, wiping the sweat from his eyes as he sped on. He swerved around other steamers and drove up on sidewalks when the way was blocked, barely missing screaming pedestrians as they leap out of his way. He felt himself growing weaker. He knew he would have to make a quick escape. He would have to feed soon or risk passing out from starvation. Paddock eyed his prisoner, still lying unconscious on the back seat, and smirked. At least he had a little snack to keep him going until he could feed properly again.

Making a hard, screeching left turn, Paddock whipped his vehicle off Victoria Street and down a road he knew would take him toward the docks on the Thames. He barely made the turn, hitting several dustbins along the way, more screaming pedestrians leaping out of the way to avoid him.

Haye, still close behind, threw the wheel sharply to the left. His vehicle turned and slid into a drift. It rolled up onto a sidewalk, the rear corner hitting and shattering a large plate-glass shop window. Regaining control, Haye slammed the accelerator and sped on. Paddock poured on the power and started pulling away from Haye.

Just then, a large high-bed lorry pulled out of an alleyway in front of him. Without hesitation, Paddock ducked down on his seat. A moment later, the steamer struck the underside of the lorry’s trailer, tearing the top completely off. It barely slowed Paddock, however, as he continued onward.

“Bloody hell!” shouted Haye through gritted teeth as he also ducked, his eyes shut tight. A second later, his own vehicle struck the underside of the trailer and shot through underneath. The top of his own steamer tore away in a screech of metal and the clash of shattering glass. The brakes of the police cruisers close behind screeched as they tried to stop before colliding with the trailer.

Paddock whipped his vehicle into a hard right onto Main Street, toward the harbor. It was then that Haye realized where Paddock was going. He had to stop Paddock before he got there, or else Haye stood the good chance of losing him among the boathouses. Haye stomped the accelerator, trying to get that last bit of power out of the engine.

Swerving around other vehicles, only just missing some and scraping others, Paddock and Haye screamed down the road. Paddock wheeled sharply onto the Broad Way, the steamer turning so violently that it tilted precariously up on two wheels as it rounded the corner, and went up onto another sidewalk. More pedestrians, screaming, lurched out of the steamer’s way; Paddock nearly struck a mare pushing a pram. Then he was back on the road, tires scorching black streaks on the pavement behind him.

By now, more police cruisers had rejoined the chase and were close behind Haye as he and Paddock tore down the narrow road toward the docks. One last, dangerously hard left—and Paddock roared onto Canary Wharf Road. He brought his steamer to a screeching halt in front of a large boat storage building. Leaping from the steamer, Paddock ripped open the back door and grabbed a now conscious and screaming Leaf. He pressed the barrel of his revolver against her temple as he began quickly dragging her toward the open doors of the building.

Just then, Haye’s steamer jolted to a halt about fifty feet away. Several dozen police cruisers slowed to a stop behind him, their lights still flashing. Furious, Haye leapt from his vehicle, weapon drawn and ready.

“It’s over, Paddock! There’s nowhere you can run! Let Leaf go!”

“Fool! Amateur! Do you really think you can capture me?” Paddock sneered, pulling the hammer back on his revolver.

Haye, his weapon held high, took aim at Paddock, just waiting for a chance to get off a clean shot. Paddock quickly dragged Leaf through the open doors and into the boathouse, disappearing into the gloom within. Not a moment later, several large police vans pulled onto the wharf and came to a stop. Dozens of armored and helmeted police ponies carrying high-powered assault weapons poured out of them and began taking up strategic positions around the building.

The megaphone-amplified voice of Commissioner Saddleford rang out behind Haye, who glanced back to see the commissioner standing behind a police cruiser with several armed constables on either side of him. “Give it up, Paddock! You have no chance!” Saddleford called. “Let your hostage go, lay down your weapon, and come out peacefully! You won’t be harmed!”

Insane laughter resounded from the boathouse, followed by Paddock’s exclamations that there was nothing they could do—he’d escape, and that was that!

Moving out of Paddock’s line of sight, Haye cautiously trotted up beside the large, double doors, pressed his back against the wall, and peeked inside. Seeing no signs of Paddock, he quickly and carefully stepped in, followed by several armored ponies, who took up strategic positions inside. It was then that Haye first noticed the large, open double doors that led to the launch bay at the back of the boathouse. Waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, Haye kept a keen ear out for even the slightest sounds that would indicate where Paddock was hiding. Slowly, he moved deeper into the boathouse and slipped into the space between two small launches. When his eyes had adjusted, he scanned the area near the rear doors. There! To the left—a movement? Maybe, or maybe it could be a trick of the light. Moving quietly to the back of the launches, Haye left them to instead begin creeping closer to the back of the building.

“I see you, Haye!” came Paddock’s maniacal shout. “Don’t think you can sneak up on me so easily. I can almost hear your heartbeat!”

Haye froze in place, pressing himself flush against the boats. “You can’t get away, Paddock!” he returned. “This building is completely surrounded. There’s no way you can get out!”

“Idiot! There’s always a way out of these things. Don’t forget, I was the Chief Inspector at your precious Shetland Yard for years. I know how this works!”

Damn! Paddock had a point. He’d know all of the SWAT containment and capture procedures, all the loopholes and ways to get through them. Still, how could he do that from within a building that was completely surrounded and covered by sharpshooters? Might he have some power or ability he hadn’t demonstrated up to this point? It was possible, as he’d already shown himself to be able to do things beyond the capacity of normal changelings, at least according to Pandora. No, Haye would not underestimate him.

It was then that Haye had a realization. While catching glimpses of Paddock, Haye saw that Paddock was sweating profusely and appeared to be tottering, as if, perhaps, he was growing weak. If this was the case, he could use it to his advantage. Peeking past his launch hiding place, Haye studied Paddock more carefully for a moment. Yes, Paddock did seem weaker. Then Haye noticed something else. Paddock was, indeed, nervously rubbernecking, watching all directions—except up, where the boats and launches were neatly stacked above his head. He was thinking two-dimensionally!

Momentarily holstering his revolver, Haye began to quietly, carefully climb up into a launch above his head, until he crouched on the foredeck of the uppermost craft. One by one, Haye stepped from one boat to the next, closing the distance between himself and Paddock. A few minutes later, he was on a boat directly above Paddock, and he got a very clear look at him. Yes, he’d been right! Paddock was weaving unsteadily now, his face drawn, and he looked as though he might pass out at any moment.

This would be Haye’s only chance to stop Paddock and save Loose Leaf. He was about to leap onto Paddock when the changeling began moving out and away from the shelter of the boats, toward the broad, open area just in front of the launch dock doors.

“Haye, where are you? Help me! Please help me!” begged Leaf, struggling weakly to break Paddock’s grip on her.

“Come on out, Constable,” taunted Paddock. “I want you to have a nice, clear view as I suck the life out of this mare!”

It was a huge risk, but it would be his only chance. Haye hunkered down in preparation. If he could make the leap, hopefully he could knock Paddock off his hooves just long enough to get Leaf to safety.

“I’m waiting, Haye…” growled Paddock. His voice now clearly trembled, as if even speaking were becoming an effort for him.

“Where are you, Reg?” shouted Leaf as panic grew in her.

“I knew you were a coward, Haye! I knew you didn’t have it in you to face me!” screamed Paddock suddenly. “Very well. Your time’s up! This mare dies now!” Twisting his lips in a grimace, a manic look on his face, Paddock bared his fangs and sunk them deep into Leaf’s neck. Leaf writhed, screaming.

In that instant, a blinding light flashed behind Paddock. Shocked and stunned, he loosed his grip on Leaf and spun to find a furious, blood-splattered Pandora standing directly behind him.

“You killed my Goldbit,” Pandora hissed. “Now you shall pay for it!”

Haye leaped from his perch, landing a couple of feet from Leaf. Lunging, he grabbed her and, holding her tightly, pulled her swiftly to safety.

Eyes blazing, Pandora grabbed Paddock by the head and rammed her horn through his skull. Six inches of her horn protruded through the back of Paddock’s scalp, dripping blood. Paddock, screaming in pain and horror, convulsed violently. He slumped, then fell to the floor, dead, as Pandora released him. She stared down at the lifeless body, her expression as terrifyingly cold as a moonless, arctic night.

* * *

After it was all over and ambulances had been called, Pandora was quickly hustled off to the hospital for emergency treatment. Attendants of another ambulance were carefully loading the gurney on which Leaf lay into the back, Haye right beside her holding her hoof.

“Thank you,” she said weakly, but gratefully.

“You’re very welcome,” Haye replied, equally grateful that she was alive, if not entirely well after her ordeal with Paddock.

Then Leaf reached up and, taking gentle hold of Haye’s face, pulled him toward her, bringing his face close to hers. Lifting herself a little, she pressed her lips to his and kissed him passionately. He did not resist, but simply melted into it.

“Okay, you two! Enough of that!” chuckled an attendant as he finished loading Leaf into the back.

“Reg?” she called out from inside.

“Yes?”

“I love you!” Loose Leaf smiled, her eyes bright and twinkling.

“I love you, too!” returned Haye without the slightest hesitation or doubt as he climbed into the back of the ambulance to accompany Leaf to the hospital.

***

It was a week after the events that closed the Moneybags and Goldbit cases for good, a week that the true criminal—half-changeling and former Chief Inspector James Paddock—had been ousted as the killer and summarily brought down. Having nothing better to do while recuperating from their various injuries in the hospital, Leaf and Haye visited with one another or read the various news-parchments.

There were such stacks by their beds at that very moment, hailing things like, “Changelings Revealed in Great Bretton: What Do They Have To Gain?” or “Why Changelings Could Be Good for Great Bretton” in the more reputable news-parchments. In the latest tabloid, the headline screamed, “Changelings In Great Bretton: An Invasion Is Imminent!” with a picture below showing a poorly made rendition of the attack on Canterlot in Equestria. Most of the headings, though, hailed Leaf, Haye, and, most importantly, Pandora as heroes who had brought a corrupt pony to justice. At least, that was how the articles were spinning it. Best to keep the more gruesome details out of the public’s knowledge.

Pandora stopped by as often as she could, but she always seemed to be in a rush or busy with something. There was always a gleam in her eye and a lightness to her step, though she would not say why, no matter how much Leaf and Haye asked. All she would tell them was, “Later!” and her eyes would twinkle.

Finally, when the two were well enough to be discharged, Pandora was there once more to bring them home. But before they could depart, Commissioner Saddleford appeared.

“Haye, I’ll need you to come with me,” he called.

Leaf and Haye turned to face him, then each other. Her troubled gaze met his own, but Haye mustered a brave smile. “Don’t worry, dear, I’m sure it’s just some formality.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” she replied, trying to reassure herself as much as him. She hesitated, then pressed her lips to his for but a moment. She pulled away, her cheeks flushed, as were his.

“Well… my goodness,” Haye stammered, clearly pleased. Before he could say anything more, Saddleford called for him again. Leaf smiled and playfully shooed him away. He sighed and trotted over to meet his fate. Saddleford said nothing, merely walked Haye to his police steamer. Haye climbed into the passenger seat, Saddleford behind the steering wheel, and they took off. When ten minutes had passed in silence, Haye spoke up.

“Sir?” he said, but he received no reply. “Sir, I can expla—”

“Not here, Haye,” Saddleford told him.

“… Yes, sir.”

The last few minutes were excruciating. The steamer pulled into Shetland Yard’s parking lot, and Haye’s heart dropped into the pit of his stomach.

“My office,” Saddleford said, and a gloomy Haye could do nothing but nod and comply, though he dragged his hooves all the while. It was too soon when they arrived. Saddleford stepped in and held the door open for his colleague. Haye trudged in, and he was sure that the click of the closing door was sealing his fate. “You tampered with investigations, Haye,” said Saddleford.

Haye was sweating, his heart pounding. “Aye, sir, but I’m afraid it was necessary. There were too many unanswered questions.”

“Was it also necessary to bring in civilians, endangering them in the process?”

Haye hung his head. “No, sir.”

Saddleford studied Haye. “I’ll be submitting a disciplinary report on the matter, Haye.”

Haye merely nodded, then spoke in a heavy tone. “I suppose I’ll go collect my things, then.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” Saddleford asked when Haye put a hoof to the doorknob. Haye stopped and turned back to his superior, surprise clear on his face. Saddleford smirked. “It’s merely a formality, something I have to do as a matter of protocol. I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”

Haye blinked. “Sir? What are you saying?”

Saddleford picked something up off his desk. Then he stepped forward and pinned something to Haye’s vest. Looking down, Haye saw a freshly polished badge bearing his name. “Reginald Haye,” came Saddleford’s booming voice, “for the exemplary work that you have performed in the pursuit of justice, I promote you to Chief Inspector of Investigations.” Saddleford stood at attention. “You are also being recommended for citations for valor and performance beyond the call of duty. Congratulations.”

Haye gaped, his eyes wide. “I… Well… Thank you, sir! It is an honor!” Haye also stood at attention. “But I really couldn’t have done this alone, you know.”

“Yes, that marefriend of yours, Loose Leaf.” Saddleford winked. “I’d hang onto her if I were you. She’s a real keeper.”

Haye’s cheeks flamed. He stood, flabbergasted as to what else to say. Finally, he stammered, “But there was Pandora as well…”

“Yes, I made sure to mention the both of them in my concluding report,” Saddleford told him, handing it over for Haye’s perusal. “But as you’re the only one of them on the force, you’re the only one who gets a promotion. Damn shame,” Saddleford said as he lit a cigarette. He inhaled, then let out the smoke with a long breath. “Those two would make fine detectives. Ah, well. Dismissed!”

Haye saluted, and then opened the door. Just before he could leave, a veritable herd of detectives rushed in through the door. “Sir, sir!” They panted and wheezed. “There’s something we have to tell you!”

Saddleford coolly looked over the group—an assembly of mares and stallions alike. “Yes, what is it?”

Without further ado, they all dropped their disguises, revealing their true changeling forms. Saddleford’s jaw dropped, his cigarette falling to the floor.

“Sorry to surprise you like this, sir,” one of the mares told him, “but we just couldn’t go on any longer without you knowing.”

When Saddleford made no moves or sounds, Haye nudged over and stamped out the cigarette. No sense in them all going up in flames, though he was just as surprised as his superior.

Eventually, Saddleford stammered out, “Well… this is unexpected.” The changelings cowered, waiting for his judgment. Saddleford grinned. “And it also answers a lot of questions. You’ve all done so well over the years, often solving cases that baffled so many others.” The changelings lifted their heads, gazing at him, relief plain on their faces. Saddleford looked them over once again. “Well, what are you still doing here? Get back to it.”

“Aye, sir!” they all told him as one, taking their usual forms once more.

* * *

Over time, the ponies of Great Bretton became accustomed to having changelings in their midst. Emboldened by their comrades, more and more had come out to their friends, families, and the public at large, for better or worse. While many ponies commended them for their honesty, plenty others hated them, called them “freaks” and more. That did not stop them, however, from letting their true selves be known.

Leaf was witnessing just such a reveal in her shop when the bell above her door tinkled. She brightened when she saw her friend enter. “Pandora! Lovely to see you,” she said. “Come in, take a seat. Let me get you some tea.”

“As much as I would love to, Leaf, I’m afraid I can only stop for a moment. But I have some wonderful news, and I couldn’t wait a moment longer to tell you!”

“Oh?” Leaf’s ears perked up.

Pandora grinned. “Do you remember the news I received while you and Reg were recuperating?”

Leaf chuckled. “Of course I do. You were beginning to drive us mad with all your baiting.”

“Well, I had to be sure. I could not say anything before I was sure, but now I am.”

Leaf blinked. “Pandora, you’re talking in circles here. What are you saying?”

Pandora’s eyes sparkled as she lifted a document with her magic. Although she did not give it to her, Leaf could tell that it was important. “I just came from a meeting with Moneybags’s solicitor. There was a clause in Goldbit’s will that stated, in the matter of his passing with no remaining heirs, I would receive everything he owned. And Moneybags had passed everything along to Goldbit.” Leaf’s hooves flew over her mouth, holding in an excited squeal. Pandora’s eyes glistened. “I can live the life I wanted again, Leaf. I have more than enough to live comfortably, and now I can lower the rents for everypony on Lilac Lane.”

“Pandora, that’s wonderful!” Leaf cried, embracing her friend. “We should celebrate!”

Pandora smiled wistfully as she returned the embrace. “Say, Leaf?” Leaf pulled back to look at her. “Did you ever wonder what it was Goldbit wanted to know?”

Leaf tilted her head as she thought back to her first—and only—meeting with the stallion. He’d seemed so desperate to know Moneybags’s last words, though it had slipped her mind until now. “Well…” She repeated her thoughts to Pandora, though she finished with, “But, yes, I was curious.”

The changeling’s smile hollowed, and she whispered, “He just wanted to know if his father ever loved him.”

“Oh…” Leaf replied, not sure of what else to say. But then she put a hoof over Pandora’s and told her, “Well, I don’t know about that, but at least you were there to love him.”

Pandora nodded, and then turned for the door. “I suppose so.” She sighed. “Anyway, do give my congratulations to Haye, and let him know the wonderful news. I fully expect him to take part in these celebrations.”

Leaf grinned at the thought. “I’m sure he wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Pandora gave a small grin. “I’m sure as well. Good day, Leaf.” With that, she left the shop.

* * *

A comfortable silence reigned over Leaf and Haye, broken only by the sounds of utensils quietly clinking and scraping against dinner plates. As the last bit of food disappeared from his plate, Haye cleared his throat. “You know, dear, I’ve been thinking of something lately.”

“Oh? And what would that be, Reg?” Leaf asked as she collected the dishes.

Before she could leave the table, Haye gently gripped her fore hoof. His gaze met her own. “I was thinking… perhaps it’s time for us to take our relationship one step further…?”

At this, Leaf’s whole face turned scarlet. She pulled her hoof back from Haye. “Reg! I mean, well, not that I haven’t thought of it, but this is surprising coming from you.”

“Wait, what—oh, no! No, no, goodness, no! That’s not what I meant!” He gave a mischievous grin. “Not this time anyway.” Then he raised a fore hoof and laughed as Leaf gave him a playful smack to the chest. “No, I was thinking of a different matter entirely.”

Smiling, Leaf told him, “Do go on.”

“Well, think of it,” he told her, taking her hooves in his own. “You’re a kind, beautiful, and intelligent mare. We complement each other so well, and we are perfectly matched as partners. I think it would be most beneficial if we—mmmph!”

Leaf pulled back from the kiss she had just given him, eyes watering as she beamed. “Yes, Reg. Yes, I absolutely agree.”

* * *

Although the two had originally wanted a simple church wedding, nopony could hold Pandora back once the announcement had been made. “Oh, it will be so much fun for me!” she had told the happy couple. “And of course, I’m paying for all of it.”

“Pandora, that’s too much,” Leaf had protested.

“Now, now, I absolutely insist!” she’d said, and that was that.

And while the cathedral in which they found themselves was larger than what they had originally imagined, it was quite lovely and set in a brilliant patch of the countryside. Yes, Pandora had chosen a perfect spot indeed.

Just before the ceremony was to begin, the door opened once more. The couple turned to glance at the newcomers, and Leaf was amazed when she saw who had arrived. “Mother…? Father?”

“I thought you said they wouldn’t come,” Haye whispered to her as quietly as he could.

“I was so sure that they wouldn’t…” Leaf replied as the stern-looking couple approached. Finally, they stood before their daughter and the groom-to-be. Leaf hugged them both. “I didn’t think you would be here,” she told them. “I thought you would be disappointed…”

They hugged her close. “Leaf, dear,” her mother told her, “why would we be disappointed?” She tilted her daughter’s chin up so that their gazes met. “He’s a Chief Inspector, and a hero to boot! Plus, he’s not all that bad looking, either.”

“Mother!”

Her mother chuckled behind a hoof. Leaf’s father, however, approached Haye. Haye shifted from hoof to hoof, not sure what to say or do. He knew he should try to break the ice, but how? What could he possibly say?

Finally, her father smiled, and held out a hoof for Haye to shake. Tentatively, Haye took it, and her father gruffly stated, “My little girl certainly could have done worse.”

And so it was that the two were joined in blissful matrimony, Brindletop wrote, brought together by fate and bound together by love. He paused, tapping the quill against his chin. But this was not the last case that they would solve together. No, their lives had just begun, and there were many more mysteries to come. Smiling to himself, Brindletop sprinkled sand across the page to dry the ink, gently shook the excess sand off, and then closed the cover.