A Murder On Lilac Lane

by Pumpkinonimous

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure
Length: 19783

A wealthy landowner ends up dead in front of Loose Leaf's tea shop, but was he murdered?

When a wealthy landowner dies at Loose Leaf's tea shop, it appears to be a simple case of death by natural causes. But Leaf and her friend, Constable Reginald Haye, discover clues that point to murder!

This story is a collaboration between myself and the wonderfully talented The Wandering Bard. Editing by the fabulously multi-talented Emylia Hawke.
Cover art by yours truly: Pononimous

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2015-08-31 20:10:07 UTC

Chapter One

Sunlight from a nearby window illuminated the grizzled, old stallion’s desk. He sat, tapping his cheek with the nib of his quill, and rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling. Hmm… Let’s see… How to start? Brindletop contemplated. Then his eyes wrinkled with a satisfied smile. He dipped the nib of his quill into an inkwell and began to scratch upon a sheet of parchment.

Lilac Lane was a pleasantly sunlit  cul-de-sac close enough to the shopping district to keep business brisk during the day, but quiet enough to be peaceful at night, Brindletop wrote. The lane was named for the many lush and well-tended old lilac trees that adorned its sidewalks and bloomed in the spring. These were accented by majestic horse chestnut trees and shop windows adorned with flower boxes hosting a variety of blooms. In the spring and throughout the summer, the lane was a happy riot of color.

Nestled cozily between a bakery and a bookseller was Loose Leaf’s Tea Shop. “A Purveyor of Fine, Rare, and Exotic Teas,” read the gold-leafed, embossed letters on the black, lacquered sign that hung above the door. Across the way stood a chemist’s apothecary, a greengrocer, a card shop, the newsagent, a pet emporium, a tobacconist, and a lovely, little toy shop. Like most of the shopkeepers on the lane, Loose Leaf lived in a roomy and comfortable flat above her shop. Many of the merchants had families, so to see foals and young fillies and colts happily running about playing games in the street was a familiar and well-accustomed sight.

If there was a dark tint to this otherwise charming scene, it was that the buildings were all owned by one Mister Moneybags, a portly and irascible old gentlecolt. He loved nothing more than wealth and, when it suited him, he had no qualms with raising the rent as much as the law would allow.

Brindletop paused, read through what he’d written, and smiled. Yes, this will do very nicely! he thought, wetting his quill anew and continuing.

Loose Leaf came down the stairs early one morning, rounded the corner from her flat, and stepped to the door of her shop, key in hoof. It was then that a sound caught her ear. Turning, she saw a filly playing with a bright, red ball. This was nothing unusual, as many foals, excited and full of energy, would come out early in the morning to play in the lane. If there was anything peculiar about this filly, it was that she played alone, repeatedly bouncing her ball across the lane and behind the hedgerow that stood in front of the apothecary, just across from the tea shop.

Smiling, Leaf waved to the filly, who stared back for a moment before raising a wary hoof and running off down the lane. As Leaf retrieved her mail from the postbox and unlocked the door to her shop, she wondered at the filly’s odd behavior. It wasn’t terribly unusual to see fillies and colts playing by themselves, as there were those who, being shy, often preferred their own company. Still, there was something about that little filly that set Leaf’s teeth on edge.

“Good morning!” came a cheerful voice from behind her. Leaf turned to see Constable Reginald Haye, the patrolpony assigned to Lilac Lane, casually making his morning rounds.

Constable Haye had worked hard during his time at the academy, graduating among the top fifty in his class. Although this might not seem like a notable accomplishment, for Haye it was a point of honor. Born of a good, stout working class family, he’d been the first among them to go to college and attend the police academy, making him the pride of his herd.

He’d been assigned to Lilac Lane barely a year before, and he found the warm and friendly residents much to his liking. Haye had made a few friends among them and had even considered taking a flat near the lane.

However, he was shy by nature and, although he thought of Loose Leaf as particularly charming and attractive, he could never bring himself to do more than nod, smile pleasantly, and say good morning when he strolled past her shop. If he could, Haye would sweep her into his arms, off her hooves, and into an idyllic… Well, that is if he could ever bring himself to do more than smile and say good morning.

An equal impediment to his desires was his awareness of their class differences. Leaf’s charm, grace, and obvious education showed her to be from an upper-middle class background, a gulf of social standing which, in Haye’s mind, might as well be as wide as the sea itself. After all, a working class lad with such a fine lady? No, it would never do, and such a thing would certainly never be accepted by her family. Did Leaf even take notice of him beyond their casual halloos? Still, to see her smiling face every morning as she opened shop and Haye walked his beat was enough for the time being.

“Good morning!” Loose Leaf returned with a smile as Constable Haye strolled past and on down the lane. Then, with her morning mail in hoof, she stepped into her shop, went to her counter, and began perusing the envelopes. The majority were bills, an advertisement, and… a notice from the Rents Board? Opening this last, Leaf read its contents and scowled sourly. Her rents were to be raised again, starting on the first of next month. It was the fifth time that year that greedy, old Moneybags had raised her rents! If he kept it up, Leaf would soon find herself without a shop!

She slipped the notice back into its envelope, tossed it on the counter, disgusted, and began sorting through the rest of the mail. Then, coming upon a singular envelope with the Equestrian postmark, Leaf smiled. Ah, how lovely! A letter from her dear friend Lyric! It was just the thing Leaf needed to cheer her up. Dropping the rest of the mail on the counter, she excitedly opened the envelope.

Her smile broadened as she read about her friend’s accounts of various adventures. The discovery of a herd of friendly changelings? Interesting! Leaf’s heart warmed as she read Lyric’s account of traveling to a carnival. Yes, it was always a joy to get letters from Lyric. They always added a wonderful touch of spice to Loose Leaf’s life and brightened her day. Grabbing a quill and sheaf of parchment from beneath the counter, Leaf began composing a return letter to thank Lyric for sharing her tales and to give account of what was happening in her own life at the moment.

With her good humor restored, Leaf hummed a merry tune as she brewed the teas and set up shop for her customers. As the morning lazily drifted toward noon, the lane was filled by prospective patrons, casual strollers out for their morning walks, gawking tourists, and the usual assortment of happily playing local colts and fillies.

The clock in Loose Leaf’s shop chimed ten. As if on cue, old Moneybags waddled through the door and up to the counter for his Wednesday morning cup of tea. Although not particularly welcome, Moneybags always came to the shop on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, as had become his habit since Leaf first opened some years before.

“The usual, Mister Moneybags?” asked Leaf, forcing a professional smile as he leaned, winded, against the counter. It bent ever so slightly under the portly stallion’s massive weight.

“Yes, yes, of course,” Moneybags gasped, paying her little mind. Arrogant twit!

“Here you are, sir,” said Leaf, finding it difficult to stop herself from launching into a scathing verbal assault about how offended she was that he dared to raise her rents to such a ridiculous degree. However, it was then that she had a mischievous idea. “That’ll be fifty bits, please,” Leaf chimed pleasantly, suppressing a smirk.

“What! Fifty bits!” he spluttered. “Why, that’s robbery!”

“Cost increases and all that,” said Leaf calmly, throwing back in his face the very same excuses he’d put forth in the Rents Board’s notice.

“Well, I never!” Moneybags scowled as Leaf stared at him with all the intensity of one who would brook no argument. Undesirous of making an embarrassing scene, he dug about in his coat pocket, produced two gold crowns, and then slapped them on the counter.

Leaf took the coins and returned his change. “Thank you. Have a lovely day, and do come again.”

Harrumphing, Moneybags waddled out the door and took a seat at a café table. The chair all but disappeared beneath his bulk. He sipped his tea as daintily as a stallion of his size could. A moment later, Moneybags scowled as he felt a sting and slapped the side of his neck. He examined his hoof, but found nothing, and so resumed drinking his tea.

As soon as Moneybags was out of earshot, Leaf raced to the back room of her shop. No longer able to contain herself, she quickly shut the door and let forth with a raucous guffaw. After a minute or two of this, she composed herself, clearing her throat, and returned to the front counter with only an amused smile remaining on her face. In no time at all, Leaf’s morning resumed its usual schedule, and she busily served lines of patrons, who soon filled the tables within and outside of her tea shop.

Without warning, shouts and screams sounded from the lane. Startled, Leaf dashed outside and cried out at the sight of a motionless, limp Moneybags slumped over his table. His fat face lay in a puddle of tea upon his saucer, the teacup shattered. More tea had sloshed off the table, dribbling onto the sidewalk.

Constable Haye had just been completing another round of the neighborhood and was just down the street from the tea shop when he heard the commotion. Alarmed, he ran toward them. A moment later, he found a crowd gathered outside the tea shop and a distraught and weeping Loose Leaf standing beside Moneybags.

“What’s all this, then?” Haye asked.

“I… I don’t know!” blurted Leaf through her tears. “He came into the shop, ordered his tea as usual, came out here, and it wasn’t five minutes later that I heard screams. I ran out here to find this!”

By this time, the curious crowd had grown larger. They pressed in, trying to get a better look. Haye, taking command of the situation, raised a fore hoof to address the crowd. “Nothing to see here, just somepony taken ill. Please move along!” he instructed, an authority in his voice that would not be denied. After taking one last peek at the scene, the crowd finally thinned and everypony wandered off.

Leaning over Moneybags, Haye put a hoof to the jugular vein in Moneybags’s neck, but there was no pulse. He was dead. Shifting his inspection to the rest of the body, Haye found a large, porcelain shard buried deep in a laceration on Moneybags’s face—doubtless from when he had fallen forward and smashed the tea cup. There was no blood from the wound; he was dead when he collapsed. Haye dipped a fore hoof in the puddle of tea, raised it, and sniffed it. Peppermint and the scent of almonds.

“Arsenic?” he muttered to himself. Then, raising his voice, Haye asked Leaf, “Did you spice this tea?”

“Yes… Yes, I spice all my teas. It makes them unique,” she said, voice quivering. “But I didn’t poison Moneybags, if that’s what you’re thinking!”

Haye glanced at Leaf, and then straightened and stepped over to her. He placed a reassuring hoof on her shoulder and smiled gently. “Perhaps it would be best if you went back inside while I investigate.”

“Yes, of course,” replied Leaf. She was still shaking, but she tried to smile through her distress.

The curious crowds were gathering again. This time, as Constable Haye dispersed them, he made it firmly clear that they were to either leave or go home. Seeing his serious expression, they quickly left, leaving only one straggler in the center of the lane. It was the little filly with the red ball that Leaf had seen earlier that morning. Oddly, she didn’t appear confused, nor upset. Rather, she was staring intently at Moneybags, as if to be sure he was indeed dead. After a time, the filly, seemingly satisfied, turned and ran off.

Filing the filly’s strange behavior away for later deliberation, Constable Haye touched his radio and called in the location and the crime. Shortly, several steam police cars with their lights flashing, a steam ambulance, and a steam police investigations lorry stood in the lane outside of Leaf’s shop. The area between the bakery and the booksellers was cordoned off with yellow tape. Other constables worked to clear everypony out of the area for a block in all directions.

Finally, a plain black police steamer pulled up to the scene. A tall, middle-aged stallion with a stern demeanor and a short, cropped mane stepped out of the vehicle. It was Chief Inspector James Paddock. He immediately crossed the tape and began questioning forensics investigators already on the scene. A few minutes later, he entered the tea shop.

Constable Haye rose to his hooves, saluted, and then stood at ease when Paddock approached the table where Haye and Leaf sat.

“I presume you were first on the scene?” Paddock asked Haye.

“Yes, sir,” answered Haye.

“If you don’t mind, Constable, I’d like to ask Miss Leaf some questions. If you’ll excuse us?”

“Yes, sir,” Haye repeated, and then took his leave, though he remained just outside the tea shop.

Paddock took a seat across from Leaf. “I’m Chief Inspector Paddock. Do you feel up to answering some questions?” He eyed her closely, carefully, studying her expressions and demeanor.

“No… That’s fine,” Leaf replied, her voice still shaky. She really didn’t feel up to answering questions, but her desire to get it over and done with was stronger than her unsteadiness at the moment.

“Very good,” said Paddock, taking a small notepad and pen from the pocket of his mack. “First, and please forgive what seems to be an obvious question, are you the owner of this shop?”

“Yes,” Leaf muttered, just barely loud enough for Paddock to hear.

“And were you acquainted with the deceased?”

“Yes,” she answered, staring down at the table.

“And what was your relationship to the deceased?” Paddock asked, his face a blank mask of professional inquisition.

“He… he was my landlord. He owns… owned this building.”

“And how would you describe your relationship with him?”

“It was a professional one. We dealt with each other from time to time, but only when it was required.”

“Would you say yours wasn’t a friendly relationship, then?” Paddock asked, arching an eyebrow.

Loose Leaf lifted her eyes. “Ours was a professional relationship, nothing more.”

“He raised your rent five times in one year. How did you feel about that? Did it upset you?”

“I wasn’t happy about it. Who would be?” Bristling, Leaf met Paddock’s cold gaze without hesitation. “What are you implying, Inspector?”

“I’m not implying anything,” he said flatly. “I’m simply trying to gather the particulars and get to the bottom of all this.”

Leaf watched Paddock curiously and considered his line of questioning. Could Moneybags have been murdered? Was Paddock thinking of her as some kind of suspect? Considering what Haye had muttered earlier, it was certainly a possibility. “Shall we get straight to the point, Inspector? Granted, I may have borne some ill will toward Moneybags, but I did not kill him!”

Paddock’s eyebrows climbed a little higher at that, and he scribbled more notes in his pad. “Odd,” he said. “No one said anything about murder. Funny that you should.”

“I didn’t kill him!” Leaf insisted, flicking her ears back. “Are we done here?” she asked with some annoyance, strongly suggesting to the Chief Inspector that she no longer had any desire to speak with him.

“Yes, of course,” Paddock said brusquely as he tucked his pen and pad into the pocket of his mack. Rising to his hooves, he produced a business card and set it on the table in front of Leaf. “Do call me if you think of anything,” he said, starting for the door. Then he paused, turned back toward her, and eyed her for a moment. “Oh, and don’t leave town, Miss Leaf. I may need to question you further.” Finally, Paddock left.

Releasing a deep sigh, Leaf laid her face on her fore hooves and tried not to think about the day’s horrors. The clopping of hooves approached, and some took the seat opposite her. She looked up to find it was Constable Haye. His countenance had shifted from one of the objective investigator to that of honest concern.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“As well as can be expected,” Leaf sighed.

“Is there anyone you’d like to call and talk to?”

Leaf smiled and patted his hoof. Yes, this Haye was a sweet and reassuring fellow, something she found she very much needed at that moment. “No, thank you,” she said. “Unfortunately, I have no one I could call about this, though I very much wish I did.”

“If you’ll pardon my saying so,” Haye began, rather hesitantly, “I’m guessing your family wouldn’t understand this… situation you’re in.” When Leaf only stared at him, Haye quickly threw up his fore hooves in apology. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to offend or pry!”

Leaf smiled, giving him a knowing look. “You’re good. I suppose most who don’t know me wouldn’t have guessed that, but you’re right. They wouldn’t understand, especially my father.” Haye visibly relaxed.

It was then that something occurred to Leaf, something that she’d just noticed from her very brief meetings with Haye in the past, when he’d walk by her shop in the morning and greet her. In that moment of realization, she smiled and decided he was worth trusting.

“Oh, my father would be absolutely livid,” said Leaf, rolling her eyes. “I can picture it now! ‘How could you do such a thing that risks sullying our family’s good reputation?’” she joked, impersonating a male voice. Then she giggled. “I can imagine him saying it as he paced the floor, wearing a hole in the carpet!”

Haye chuckled. Perhaps he had been wrong. Perhaps Loose Leaf was not what he had assumed her to be. Hope lit within him.

And so they sat and chatted. Haye was careful to steer the conversation away from the events of the day, to keep Leaf from dwelling overmuch on what had been, for her, an absolutely overwhelming shock. Still, in spite of Haye’s efforts, Leaf continuously returned to the murder. He supposed it was only natural, considering the enormity of the thing. How could anyone not think of it? After all, such things didn’t happen every day and would be, for most, devastating to say the least.

Then, drawing upon his careful, mental notes on certain traits about Leaf, Haye attempted another tactic. “What do you think happened to Moneybags?” Perhaps focusing on the case itself, as opposed to the horror of the scene, would help ease her mind.

Leaf stared at him for a moment, mildly surprised at both the question and Haye’s perception. Had he really picked up on her innate curiosity so quickly? She couldn’t help but find herself charmed by that. Turning her eyes up in thought, she scratched her chin. “It’s too soon to say,” Leaf replied, warming to the subject. “I don’t see enough evidence to draw any indications from.”

“Good point,” Haye said, smiling. After a pause, he went on, “Still, ‘when you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.’”

Leaf brightened, exclaiming, “Sir Arthur Cannon Doilies! Shearlock Holms!”

“You’re familiar with his stories?”

“What amateur detective isn’t?” she replied with a wink, a sly expression on her face. That expression became thoughtful as she remembered something. “I did notice something odd this morning as I was opening.”

“Oh?”

“There was this strange, little filly playing in the road with a red ball. Nothing out of the ordinary for Lilac Lane, but—”

“A little filly?” interrupted Haye. “About ten years old or so? Did she just stare at you with a blank expression?”

“Yes!” gasped Leaf. “How did you know that?”

“If it’s the same one you saw, I saw her standing and staring at Moneybags, and then at me, just after Moneybags died!”

Leaf blinked, her brow creasing in puzzlement. “Do you suppose she had something to do with all of this?”

“I don’t see how,” said Haye. “I can’t imagine anypony that age being part of…” He trailed off, not wanting to even consider such a possibility.

“Maybe it’s just an odd coincidence in a day full of odd things.”

Haye shrugged. “You’re probably right. Still, it is rather unusual, don’t you think?”

Leaf could only nod in agreement.

More than an hour had passed since Constable Haye and Leaf had started chatting. The forensics team and inspectors, having concluded their investigation, had packed the body off along with their equipment, had taken down the barrier tape, and had since returned to Shetland Yard. This hadn’t passed Haye’s, nor Leaf’s notice, and Leaf was glad the police were gone. She could now resume her business day. Customers began to drift into the tea shop, curious to know what had transpired.

Seeing this, Haye decided it was time to leave. “Well, Miss Leaf, I’m sorry for all that’s happened here today. I do hope I’ve been of some small help and comfort to you.” Haye smiled, rising from his seat and extending a hoof to her.

“More than you know,” she said gratefully. Loose Leaf glanced down at his extended hoof, smiled, and then, stepping up to him, gently kissed Haye on the cheek. “Thank you.”

Haye blushed, a bit flustered by her unexpected response. “Well, then!” he chuckled shyly, struggling to compose himself. “I suppose I should check in before my superiors think I’ve gone AWOL.”

“Again, thank you,” Leaf repeated, returning to her place behind the counter. She smiled to herself as she began tending to her customers, pleased that Haye had finally opened up and reached out to her, something she found herself wishing had happened much sooner.

Stepping back onto the street, Constable Haye paused, touched his cheek where Leaf had kissed it, and grinned. Although the morning had been most harrowing for poor Miss Leaf, at least it did seem to have one small bright spot in it. He had gotten a chance to finally get to know, and possibly become close to, this lovely tea shop owner.

Little did Haye realize that the day’s events, and even his association with Leaf, would end up leading them both into something they might find beyond their abilities to handle. But that would be for another day.

Chapter Two

Leaf was lost in a fog as she made her way downstairs. Although horrible things had happened at her shop, she needed to go on. Ponies would be counting on her for a calming cup of tea, for companionship at her shop. Or so she hoped. Breathing deep and puffing out her chest, she made her way downstairs. First task—set the water for tea on the boil, then unbox a case of scones, set them on a rack, and place them neatly in the glass front pastry case.

Once these were done, Leaf grinned at the normalcy of the routine as she made her way to the front door. Eight o’clock on the dot, and the doors opened wide. Some ponies trickled in, though not as many as usual. Leaf’s shoulders slumped, and she sighed as she adjusted the spectacles on the bridge of her nose.

Shrugging, Leaf made her way behind the counter. One by one, ponies queued up and placed their orders. Leaf then trotted about, getting them their choices of tea and scones, and bringing it to them at the counter if the orders were to go, or bringing out plates and small single-serving teapots for those who chose to stay. Of course, much of the gossip was about yesterday’s incident.

Through it all, Leaf failed to see the one pony she would have loved to be there most of all—Constable Reginald Haye. An hour passed, and the clock chimed nine. Odd. Haye was usually there by half-past eight. She wondered if something had happened to him. She did not have long to dwell on this as more customers poured in. First it was tea and scones, and then it was tea and triangle sandwiches when late morning rolled around, with Leaf bustling about all the while. It was entirely possible that ponies, seeing things carrying on as usual, were reassured enough to partake of her fine wares. Or, perhaps, they were here because of yesterday’s sordid events…

She took notice when the clock chimed once more, letting her know that it was noon. It was just after the clock quieted that the bell above her shop door tinkled. Putting on a smile to welcome a new customer, that smile grew when she saw who had entered her shop.

“Reg! It’s so good to see you.”

His strained eyes brightened, and he nodded to Leaf in greeting. “Leaf, my apologies for being late. I was held up by a court hearing this morning.” He sat himself at a table by the door, and Leaf joined him, carrying a pot of his favorite tea.

“Yes, of course. I understand.” She set the pot down and put her hoof over his. “Have they made a ruling?”

“Now, that is the strange part.” Haye’s gaze roamed the shop, his ears flicking all around. Turning back to her, he leaned in; Leaf followed suit. “When I was at the courthouse, I picked up Paddock’s report on Moneybags’s case. He’s already ruled the old stallion’s death as being from natural causes, but I don’t buy it.”

Leaf’s curiosity was piqued. “Well, why ever not?” she queried. “It looked like he’d had a heart attack.”

“That it did,” Haye replied. “But here’s the thing. The coroner’s report had no listing of a heart attack, aneurysm, stroke, or any other such condition that would lead to a sudden and natural death.”

“Yes, but sometimes these things do happen…”

He shook his head. “Not like this. There was no sign of natural death. None at all. The coroner would have seen something if this were the case. Instead, the ruling was listed as ‘unknown’.”

“Unknown? What could that possibly mean?” When Haye smirked, Leaf quickly added, “Oh, be quiet. I know what the word means.”

It was then that the door swung open, so suddenly that it whacked Leaf’s hat clean off her head. Leaf turned to pick up her hat when a slender stallion with a well-coiffed mane and polished hooves lifted it off the ground. By his side was a mare with a long, flowing, raven mane and tail, a shiny, cream coat that appeared to be made of silk, and bright, sky-blue eyes.

“I beg your pardon, Miss Leaf,” the stallion said as he removed his hat. “It is Miss Leaf, is it not?”

“Yes… How may I help you?”

“My name is Goldbit. Moneybags is… was my father.”

“Oh.” Leaf did not know whether to give him her condolences or to ask if he was there for her money.

“Please, if you have a moment, would you mind if we spoke in private? I have some questions.”

At this, the mare beside him spoke. “Goldbit, I don’t think this is a good—”

“Please, Pandora, don’t worry. Everything will be fine.” At this, he turned to Leaf. “Ah, yes, you wouldn’t know this stunning beauty, would you?”

“Considering I just met you a moment ago?” Leaf drolled. “Not really.”

“Well, then, allow me to introduce you. This is Pandora Blackhoof, my marefriend.”

“Charmed,” Leaf told her.

Pandora bowed her head. “The pleasure is all mine.”

Strangely to Leaf, something in Pandora’s tone told Leaf that she meant what she said. She shook her head and asked Goldbit, “You wanted to talk?”

“Yes. In private, if you don’t mind.”

It took every ounce of Leaf’s will to suppress a groan and an eye-roll. Instead, she stood, telling him, “Right. This way, please.” To Haye, she said, “I’ll be right back,” and then led the way to a table in the corner. Goldbit eagerly followed. When they were each seated once more, Leaf began, “Look, if this is about money—”

“Actually, it’s not, Miss Leaf. I’m here on a more personal matter.”

Her ears pricked forward. “Do go on.”

“I don’t mean to be so blunt about it, but I simply see no other way to get around the matter. Since my father died here, it’s reasonable to assume that you are the last pony he spoke to.”

“It’s possible, unless he had a discussion with another pony on the street.”

“Yes, well, I wanted to ask you this. Is there anything of interest that he may have said to you before he… perished?”

Leaf put a hoof to her chin, rubbing it, as she recalled their last conversation. “No, nothing that I can think of. He came in, ordered his usual, we bantered about his raise in my rent, and then he took a seat outside.”

“And that was it?” Goldbit pressed.

“That was it.”

The stallion’s ears drooped and his mouth sagged. “Oh.”

Leaf sighed. If the stallion was searching for answers, she could at least set his mind at ease. She met his gaze. “Mister Goldbit, I am terribly sorry for your loss, but my relationship with your father was strictly a professional one. Nothing he said to me yesterday was out of the ordinary for him.”

“I understand.” Goldbit fell silent, except for the occasional inaudible mumbling. Leaf was about to ask if he was alright when he muttered, “Perhaps Pinchpence would know…”

“Excuse me?”

“Hmm? Oh, nothing, nothing!” Goldbit flashed her a smile and stood. “Thank you for your time, Miss Leaf, and I am sorry to have wasted it. Pandora and I shall be off.” Goldbit trotted over to his marefriend’s side. She offered an elbow, which he took. With that, the two strolled out the door.

Shaking her head, Leaf rejoined Haye. “Well, that was bizarre.”

“Really? How so?” Haye took a sip from his freshly poured tea, and he passed Leaf a cup. She nodded in thanks and dribbled in some honey.

“He wanted to know about his father’s last words.” She stopped, drank her tea, and set the cup down. “Now, why do you think he would want to know about that?”

“I have no idea, but that is strange.”

“Indeed,” she replied. “Something very odd is happening. First, the case file, then the coroner’s report, and now Goldbit…”

“Yes,” Haye mused, “his visit does raise some questions. What else did he say?”

“He mentioned somepony named Pinchpence.”

“Pinchpence… Pinchpence…” His face scrunched up in thought.

“It seems as if we are trying to solve a puzzle with too many missing pieces.”

At that, Haye laid his fore hoof on hers. He thought for a moment, then looked to Leaf in wonder. “Yes, yes, you’re right. And Shetland Yard has gone through everything with a fine-toothed comb. But here’s the kicker. Sometimes a puzzle piece falls face-down or blends in, and it’s incredibly hard to see.” He grinned from ear to ear. “So what if the missing piece were still here?”

Leaf simply blinked. “Haye, what—”

“Come with me!” Haye dashed outside.

“Haye, where are you going?” Leaf cried, galloping after him. “The tea’s going to get cold!”

Haye was now examining the table and surrounding area where Moneybags had died the day before. Leaf cocked her head, her ears pricked. She would be lying to herself if she said her curiosity hadn’t been piqued. Without further thought, she searched with him.

He grinned. “Glad to have you on board.”

She smiled. “And I am glad to be aboard, though I still don’t know the destination. What are we looking for?”

“I have no idea! But do be careful. We don’t want to destroy any potential evidence by being clumsy, so tread lightly, and if you see anything out of the ordinary, speak up.”

“Right,” Leaf replied.

The two scanned the area for what seemed like hours with no success. Surely the ponies inside thought them mad. All seemed hopeless until Haye muttered, “Interesting. Come look at this.” Leaf spun and trotted over to his side. “Do you see it? Right there. But be careful not to touch. We don’t know what it contains.”

Leaf leaned in, squinting through her spectacles. “Why, it’s a dart! No larger than a bee’s stinger! At least, that’s what it appears to be. It’s no wonder the constabulary missed this.”

Pulling forensics gloves out of his pocket, Haye slipped them onto his hooves. The tea shop owner turned detective raised an eyebrow. “Do you always carry those around with you?”

“I do, actually. You never know when they will be needed, as evidenced by yesterday’s events. Ha! Evidenced. Get it?” Leaf arched an eyebrow again. Haye cleared his throat. “Yes, right. Well, I shall need to catalogue this and bring it back to Shetland Yard. It could be important. Back in a tick.”

With that, Haye galloped off. Leaf did not have long to wait, though, before his return. In his muzzle, he carried what appeared to be a suitcase. Setting it down before Leaf, he unlatched the front and opened the lid. In it were various brushes, powders, vials, bags, and other tools. Haye lifted out a pair of forceps and, with the utmost care, plucked the dart from the chair. He dropped it into a vial, stoppered it, marked a label, and stuck the label to the vial.

Leaf was quiet as she watched Haye work. “Fascinating…” she said. “But, Reg, are you allowed to have this? You are a part of the constabulary, but you’re not a detective.”

Haye almost dropped the vial. He gripped it close and fidgeted with it in his hooves. “Well, no,” he admitted with a sheepish grin. “But,” he said, the grin turning sly, “it does come in handy!” He winked.

Leaf smiled. “It would appear so.” It was then that the sound of a brass bell caught her ear. Looking up, she saw a pony exiting the chemist’s apothecary across the lane. As the pony passed by the hedgerow in front of the windows, Leaf’s brow furrowed. She trotted over and poked her head into the landscaping.

“Leaf?” Haye called as he soon joined her, carrying the case. “What are you up to?”

“I’m searching.”

“Yes, I can see that, but for what?”

She looked right, then left, and then down below. She let out a small gasp as her eyes landed on a brown, glass container lying on the ground. “This, apparently! Reg, come have a look.” Stepping behind the hedge, Haye soon found what it was that Leaf was calling him to. “It looks like a medicine bottle, but it’s rather odd. I don’t recall ever seeing one quite like this before.”

Haye squatted down next to the bit of glass. Peering at it carefully, he pulled out the forceps once more and lifted it to his muzzle. “That’s because it’s not for medicine. No medicine bottle would ever look like this. No, this is a trained insect vial!”

“A… what?” queried Leaf.

“They’re normally used by circus performers who have trained insect acts. Things like crickets walking tightropes, riding tiny bicycles, or such.”

“Yes, of course! I used to see those as a little foal. But what’s it doing there?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Haye told her, “but I doubt that it’s anything good.” He slid the bottle into an evidence bag, sealed the bag, and labelled it. “It’s only a hunch at this stage, but I believe we have just discovered the weapon used to kill Moneybags.”

Leaf gasped. “Killed?!”

“Yes, I’m afraid so. It appears that Moneybags didn’t die of natural causes after all.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Leaf’s eyes were bright. “Let’s go! Let’s go give this evidence to Paddock!” Leaf dove out of the hedge.

“Whoa, wait a moment! It’s not as simple as that,” Haye told her.

Leaf paused and turned back to him. “Whatever do you mean? I’m sure once he sees this, he’ll—”

“He’ll have a lot of questions, specifically about how we came to have this evidence.” Haye held up a hoof to stave off any protestations. “I’m sure he’ll want to see this, but I need to figure out how to go about this. I could be accused of tampering with the case, and my job—or worse—could be in jeopardy.”

“But—”

“No, I’m sorry, Leaf, but we’re going to have to wait on this one.”

Leaf hung her head. “I disagree, Reg. If I’m right, you could get in just as much trouble for withholding this.”

“Good point, but I do plan on submitting it. I just need to figure out how without getting my arse in a sling.” He put his hoof under Leaf’s chin and lifted her head. “So no word of this to anypony until then, alright?”

Her shoulders slumped. “No, it’s not alright. I do understand, but I don’t like it.”

“Trust me, this is for the best. Right now, we’re the only two who know something is wrong. If I’m locked up, you’d be the only one left. And Paddock would never believe that a tea shop owner found evidence while his team did not.”

“Sadly, I think you’re right. But I still don’t like it.”

Haye put a hoof on her shoulder. “Neither do I, Leaf, but it’s our only option.” He pulled away. “Now, I should take this home, get it somewhere safe. You take care of yourself. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She gave a small smile. “I’ll hold you to that since you missed this morning.”

He laughed. “Fair enough. Good day, Leaf.”

“Good day, Reg.” Haye tipped his hat and galloped away. Leaf trotted back into her shop and, moments later, watched as he drove by on his vehicle. He honked, and she waved. The day’s events had her head spinning, and she could not wait until the next to see Haye again. She had a strong feeling that, between the two of them, they would crack this case wide open. Moneybags may have been a curmudgeonly old tyrant, but he at least deserved that.

* * *

It was three days later when they saw the news-parchments. “Heir to Moneybags Fortune Found Dead in Swimming Pool at Family Estate,” the headline declared.

“Oh, no…” Leaf said as she read through the article. “Is it true?”

Dark circles hung under Haye’s eyes. He nodded as he added five sugar cubes, much more than his usual, into his cup of Earl Grey. “I’m afraid so,” he said, stirring the tea to dissolve the sugar.

Leaf peered at the script through her lenses. “It says here that Paddock led the investigation—”

“Of course he did.”

“—and that he deemed it an accident. But,” Leaf asked as she folded the parchment in half, “what say you?”

Haye took his cup into his hooves and downed the concoction all in one swig. He shuddered. “Ugh, I needed that…” Setting the cup down and rubbing his eyes, Haye replied, “I say it’s suspicious. First, we find clues that indicate that Moneybags was murdered. And now his son dies just a few days later? I don’t buy that it’s an accident.”

Leaf’s hoof tapped at the chair below her. “Then I’m glad we are in agreement. This is too convenient.” She sat up straight in her chair. “Now the question is, what do we do about it?”

“Nothing we can do, I’m afraid. The entire scene has been cleaned up. Nothing suspicious was found.”

“But what about photographs?”

Haye shook his head. “Securely tucked away and locked up in the evidence locker.”

“The coroner’s report?”

“I… haven’t checked yet.” Haye abruptly took Leaf’s hooves in his own, and she blushed. “Leaf, that could be our answer! Come on!”

As he dragged her away, Leaf cried out, “My shop!”

“Sorry, dear, but we have to look into this before the report is sealed away as well.”

“But I doubt they’ll even let me in. Look, let me close up, and I’ll meet you at the Yard.”

Haye ground to a halt and let her go. “Yes, that would be a much better idea. It would look less suspicious as well. After all, I’m an everyday face. But you, the pony at whose tea shop our first victim perished? That would raise some suspicions.”

“But if I came to you bringing lunch, that would look normal enough. And if anypony asks, I can say it’s thanks for the other day.”

“Brilliant!” he declared, pulling her into his arms. “The more time I spend with you, the more I see we make great partners.”

Leaf laughed and stepped back out of his grasp, cheeks reddening. “And when was this decided?”

“When you found that bottle in the hedgerow.” Haye grinned. “And you can’t back out now.”

“We’ll see,” Leaf told him, returning the grin. “Now, you go, and I’ll meet you soon.”

“Aye, aye! See you there!”

As Leaf galloped to her shop, Haye made his way to Shetland Yard. It was a grand building, appearing much as one of the fancier brick mansions located in the city. However, the imposing wrought iron fence and towering gates gave its true purpose away, as did the ponies in uniform streaming in and out. Haye ascended the steps, pushed open the wooden doors, and made his way inside. Despite all of the excitement in the past few days, the place wasn’t as busy as he thought it would be.

Shrugging, Haye made his way to the coroner’s office. The name on the glass read, Woodruff. As he knocked on the door, Woodruff called, “Come in.” Haye entered the office. “Ah, Constable Haye.” Although Woodruff, an earthen brown unicorn, was only sitting at his desk, he still wore his medical coat. A pair of rounded spectacles framed his eyes. “To what do I owe this visit?”

“Afternoon, Woodruff,” Haye replied. “I came by for your report on Mister Goldbit. Paddock wants me to bring it up to his office.”

“You?” Woodruff blinked. “That’s unusual. He usually comes by to get it himself.”

“Yes, well, he’s quite busy today, what with these two recent, high-profile deaths and all.” He cleared his throat.

After a moment, Woodruff shrugged and held out the folder. “Guess it makes no difference to me.” Haye snatched the folder. Woodruff arched an eyebrow. “Let him know that I’ll be up to discuss the results shortly.”

“Of course. Well, see you around.” Haye tucked the folder under his arm and closed the door. Once he was far enough away, but still a good distance from his destination, he opened the cover and peeked at the report. He scoured its contents, searching for answers, eyes widening shortly after. Then he flipped it closed and headed towards Paddock’s office. Seeing the door closed and the lights off, Haye visibly relaxed. Good. Better that he wasn’t asking Haye what he was up to. He slipped the report under the door hoping Paddock would assume that Woodruff had brought it by—even better. Once the deed was done, Haye made his way outside. There, just past the gate, was Leaf, holding a brown bag and waving eagerly. He smiled and trotted over.

“Reg, there you are! I was beginning to wonder where you’d gotten off to. Oh, and your soup is getting cold.”

“You brought me soup?”

Leaf grinned. “I had a bit of vegetable soup left over from last night’s supper.” She puffed her chest out with pride. “I made it myself.”

“Then I’ll be delighted to taste it. But not here. I have something to tell you.”

“I figured you would,” she told him. “Let’s find a spot in the park, shall we?”

“That sounds wonderful. And we can talk along the way.” Leaf’s grin turned into a full smile, and the two walked side by side along the sunny lane. Despite the reason they had come together on this day, their stroll was a pleasant one—until they rounded the corner. Haye glanced around them, and then whispered to Leaf, “The report checked out.”

“Drat. And here I was hoping for another lead.”

“So was I,” said Haye, “but it’s confirmed. Death by drowning. No alcohol, medicines, nor toxins in his system.”

“It’s still suspicious, though,” Leaf told him. The way she rubbed her chin made it obvious that she was merely speaking her thoughts.

“Of course it is, which is why we need to get to the bottom of this. If only we hadn’t reached a dead end…”

It was then that Leaf’s ears pricked up. “Maybe we haven’t? That article I read mentioned that the reading of Moneybags’s will is taking place in two weeks. We should go.”

“What for? He wouldn’t have left anything to you, and he barely knew me.”

“But it could give us a new lead.”

Haye grinned as his mind caught up with Leaf’s. “Because, depending on who will be there, we could find a new suspect.”

“Exactly!” Leaf beamed, as did Haye.

“Leaf, have I ever told you how brilliant you are?”

“No, but you can go ahead and tell me all you like.”

That got a laugh from Haye, and he told her, “Alright, then, you’re brilliant!”

“Why, thank you.”

And so, confident in their plan, the two found a bench in the park and settled in to have a pleasant lunch. Little did they know that things were about to take a turn once again.

* * *

“Well, well, look who’s here,” Leaf whispered to Haye as they arrived. “Miss Pandora Blackhoof.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” Haye whispered back. The two took seats in the back and listened as Moneybags’s will was read. Almost everything would have been left to Goldbit, but, with Goldbit’s passing, everything went instead to an unnamed party. Leaf and Haye were shocked. “Pandora receives nothing?” Haye murmured. “You saw the way Goldbit looked at her. He was absolutely smitten.”

“Maybe it was a new relationship,” Leaf returned, just as quietly. “Or maybe Moneybags didn’t approve.”

“Maybe,” he conceded. “But then, why is she the only one here?”

“Well, it’s possible that she thought they would read Goldbit’s will as well, if he had one. I’m sure she would have benefitted greatly from his death.”

“Good point.” Haye nodded. “But, for the moment, let’s ask about this unnamed party. Excuse me!” he called out to the executor. She looked down her nose at him as he approached. “Sorry to bother you, ma’am, I’m Constable Reginald Haye. If you don’t mind, I’m hoping you could give us any more information? Such as who will be inheriting Moneybags’s estate, how much it’s worth, things like that?”

The mare gave him a stern gaze. “I’m sorry, sir, but the will is sealed. Only the remaining heir can be given that information, and they wished to be anonymous.”

“There’s nothing more you can tell us?” Leaf chimed in.

“No, nothing. Now, if you will excuse me, I must return to my office.” She put the will into a briefcase, locked it, and trotted away. The room was empty except for Leaf, Haye, and Pandora, the last of whom stood and made her way to the exit, dragging her hooves.

Seizing an opportunity, Leaf called out, “Miss Blackhoof? May we have a word?”

Pandora stopped and turned to look at them. Her eyes were puffy and rimmed with red. Her coat was dull. She held her head down low and sniffled once in a while. Seeing Haye’s badge, she said, “I’ve already talked to the constabulary and I’ve been cleared of all charges—wait, I remember you,” she added as she spotted the mare standing next to Haye. “You’re the one Goldbit wanted to speak with.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Leaf replied, sorry she had ever suspected Blackhoof when she saw how distraught Goldbit’s marefriend was. “Then perhaps you can help me.”

“With what?” Pandora eyed Haye suspiciously.

“It’s alright,” Leaf told her as she followed Pandora’s gaze. “Reg here is a good friend, and we’re both working to get to the bottom of these mysterious circumstances.”

Pandora gave a sigh of relief. “Then I am not alone?” she said cryptically as she trotted over to the door and shut it. She put her ear to the door, listening for hoofsteps and, hearing none, turned back to the pair. “I don’t think Goldbit drowned.”

“Well, that’s putting it bluntly,” Haye told her. “What makes you say that?”

“It’s true that Goldbit would always take a swim in the morning, just before dawn. He absolutely insisted! Said it kept him vigorous, not that he was old to begin with…” Her voice shook and her chin trembled. Closing her eyes, Pandora continued, “I was used to awakening to the sound of his splashing about, but, on the morning he died, I heard something unusual. At the time, I thought it was a dream, and so I rolled over and went back to sleep. If only I had known, perhaps I could have made some difference, and he would still be alive.” Tears fell from her eyes. “It was when I awoke later in the day and went to make him breakfast that I found him dead in the pool.”

Leaf and Haye shared a look. Turning back to Pandora, Leaf asked, “And what makes you think that you were dreaming?”

“I heard a lot more splashing about than usual, and shouting, like there was some sort of scuffle going on. And I thought I heard another voice other than his, but here’s the strange thing.” She looked straight into Leaf’s eyes. “The other voice sounded like a filly’s.”

Haye and Leaf stared at each other for a moment, astonished, before turning back to Pandora.

“What? What did I say?” When Pandora received no answer, grief turned to rage. “If there is something that you know, I demand to be told!” She stomped a hoof on the floor.

Leaf put a hoof on her shoulder. “Pandora, I’m sorry to say this, but we think that Goldbit was murdered.”

“And that it’s somehow connected to Moneybags,” Haye concluded.

“You… what? But why? Who would want to hurt Goldbit? He was harmless!”

Haye nodded. “We know, but—”

Pandora’s rage deepened. “He… he never harmed anyone,” she growled, her eyes narrowing. “All he ever did was love me, take care of me when no one else would. I loved him with all my heart. I’d suspected something was amiss that morning, but it was merely suspicion. Now you have confirmed my worst fears.” At that point Pandora’s rage was uncontrollable, and she couldn’t stop what happened next.

Haye got no further as a strange, buzzing noise came from Pandora. Her eyes glowed, and she was poised as if she were ready to pounce. Her teeth were bared, and the two incisors grew into fangs. Suddenly, her whole appearance shifted. Her mane and tail turned scraggly and scarlet, her eyes a shade of teal. Her skin, once a soft tan, turned a ghastly shade of deep, charcoal gray. The buzzing noise came from a pair of translucent, insectoid wings sprouting from her back.

Leaf’s and Haye’s jaws dropped as they warily stepped back, frightened. Their knees shook. Screwing up her courage, Leaf spoke. “Pandora… what… what are you?”

This caught the changeling’s attention. She glanced down and, seeing herself exposed, pulled the shades down with her magic. “Please, don’t tell anypony!” she begged, hooves pressed together in front of her.

“You’re a changeling!” Leaf blurted out. Haye continued to stare in baffled shock.

“I thought you were all supposed to be in Equestria,” Leaf continued. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

“How… how do you know about changelings?” asked Pandora, confused.

“I have a friend who lives in Equestria,” said Leaf, calming, “and is familiar with your kind. She’s told me all about changelings.”

Pandora hung her head. “I was from Equestria, from Queen Chrysalis’s hive, in fact. But the truth is, not all of us changelings believed in her and her ideals. Life under her was brutal. Only she was allowed to go out and find love, and she would only feed those who were in her favor the most. The rest of us had to survive on scraps. And the only way to win her favor was to fight each other, fight our way through the ranks.” She lifted her gaze. “I didn’t want that. I slipped away during the invasion at Canterlot and traveled as far as I could. Eventually, I came to Great Bretton because it was as far away as I could get. I doubt very much that she’ll be able to find me here, if she’s even still alive.”

Seeing a bewildered Leaf and a skeptical Haye, Pandora’s ears fell. “You don’t believe me.” She stamped a hoof again, her voice rising. “Please, you have to believe me! I didn’t come here to harm anypony—I never wanted to harm anypony. I only wanted to escape and make some kind of decent, normal life. That’s it, I swear!” Their gazes softened. Pandora’s voice did as well. “Is that really so much to ask?”

Haye sighed. “No, I suppose not. But that still doesn’t explain what happened with Goldbit.”

“You can’t possibly think I had something to do with that?”

Leaf shook her head. “No, not after that display of yours a moment earlier. But look at it this way. You didn’t see anything actually happen, and, as far as anypony else is concerned, you were the only other one in the home at the time of his death.”

“And,” Haye interjected, “it’s likely that you have the most to gain from this.”

Leaf pointed a fore hoof at Pandora, eyeing her purposefully. “Right now, you are the most likely suspect.”

“W-what?! You can’t be serious! I didn’t kill him. I would never have harmed him! I loved him!” gasped Pandora, tears streamed from her eyes.

Leaf and Haye felt a pang in their hearts as Pandora sank to her haunches, her head hanging. Moved, Leaf embraced the broken-hearted changeling. Pandora screwed her eyes shut as sobs wracked her body. She wiped at her nose, sniffling, and she said, “I wasn’t always in love with him, you know.” Leaf and Haye stepped back. “At first, I was only interested in feeding off him, and in his money. I know how that sounds, but I swear that harming him never even crossed my mind.”

“Then why did you do it?” Haye asked.

“If I went around in my true form, I would have terrified everyone as you just were. I would have been hated and feared. I had to live in the guise of a normal pony and that meant finding necessities, such as money and a living space.” Pandora floated a hoofkerchief to herself and dabbed at her eyes. “When I saw Goldbit, I knew right away that I could easily acquire both with him. He was clearly wealthy. You could see it in the way he dressed, and the way that he flirted with any pretty mare he saw… Well, you can see how easy it was for me to change my form to suit his needs.” She gave a sad chuckle. “He fell for me right away.”

Leaf tilted her head. “Then what changed?”

Pandora lifted her head. “He changed me. At first, I thought he was being silly, but he would always hold the door open for me, always pull out my chair, always buy me the finest jewelry and clothes. But, more than that, he would always put my needs above his. And, once he was with me, his attentions never wavered. Not once.” She paused. “He treated me like a princess. He made me feel loved and appreciated, and, through him, I came to know what real love was. And the fact that somepony murdered him in cold blood…” Her eyes flashed dangerously once more. “I want to help you.”

“What?” Leaf and Haye both replied.

“You heard me.” Pandora’s voice was completely level. “I want to find my lover’s killer.”

“I’m sorry,” Haye told her, “but you’ve been going around masquerading as somepony you’re not. How can we trust you after that?”

“I did it because I had no choice!” Pandora shouted. “If you had been in my place, what would you have done?”

“Well…”

“And besides, I could be quite useful to you.” The two gazed at her, confused. “My abilities, remember?” Pandora turned back into the form they had first met her in, then that of the will executor, Leaf, Haye, some of Haye’s colleagues, then somepony that neither had ever seen before, all within mere seconds of each other. It was dizzying to the investigators. Pandora finally changed back to her first form. “I could go into places you could never dream of going without being caught. As long as I see a pony meant to be there, I can turn into them.”

“That would be useful,” Leaf mused.

Pandora nodded. “And, on top of it all, I do have magic.”

“That could also be of use,” Haye conceded. “But let me ask you this.” His eyes narrowed. “I don’t know anything about changelings,” Haye said, “so if you would be so kind to tell me… can changelings appear as a different gender?”

“Yes,” said Pandora plainly. “If I see somepony I wish to impersonate, I can change my form to match theirs, regardless of their gender.”

Haye pondered his next question for a moment. “Can you transform into a child?” he asked pointedly.

“What? No!”

“But you did just say that if you see somepony, you could turn into them.”

“Yes, I did. But here’s the thing,” said Pandora, and she held up a hoof to about filly height. “When changelings are small, we’re still learning how to control our abilities. It’s only when we’re older that we try to transform ourselves, and then we can only take the form of somepony around our stature.” She set her hoof over her heart. “I do not know of any changeling who has the ability to transform into someone larger or smaller than they. It’s just unheard of.”

Leaf and Haye glanced at one another. “But it makes no sense,” Leaf said. “How could a mere filly take on somepony like Goldbit and kill him?”

“I don’t know,” Haye said. “Unless…”

His eyes widened at the same time as Leaf’s. They spoke together. “Unless there’s another changeling involved!”

“Weren’t you listening?” Pandora told them. “I just said that no adult changeling that I know of has the ability to take on the form of a child!”

“Yes, none that you know of,” said Haye.

“But what if there’s one that you don’t know about?” Leaf continued. She turned to face Pandora. “Do you think there could be more than one changeling in Great Bretton?”

Pandora said nothing more, but her eyes darted about nervously.

Haye stepped close to Pandora, eyeing her carefully. “Come on, then! Out with it! You’re hiding something!” he growled intimidatingly.

“Yes! Alright, yes!” Pandora blurted, “There are other changelings in Great Bretton, but they’re like me! They’ve escaped from their hives. They just want to make normal lives for themselves, nothing more.”

“Well, that certainly answers that question,” said Haye as Leaf stared, astounded by this revelation. With that, Haye turned to go, bidding Pandora good day before he did so.

“Hey, what about me?” Pandora cried, running after the two as they stepped out of the room.

“Sorry, but I’m not sure it’s best that you join us,” Haye told her. He held up a hoof to forestall her protestations. “I do agree that you have abilities that could help us, but I’m just not sure it’s a good idea.”

“Why not? She could help us,” insisted Leaf.

“And she could get herself or us both hurt or worse,” Haye told her. “She doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

“Neither do I,” Leaf replied, “not like you do. But you’re teaching me as we go. Who says you can’t teach her?” Haye glanced between them. “Besides,” Leaf continued, “she could be a huge asset.”

“And if you don’t allow me to join you,” Pandora said, “I’ll go looking for answers on my own.”

Haye bridled at the threat. As much as he still distrusted Pandora and didn’t like the idea of her participation, he disliked her implication even more. At that, Haye sighed. “And I don’t doubt it.” He glanced between Pandora and Leaf. “I guess I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“No,” came Pandora’s flat reply.

“Not really,” Leaf told him. “Besides, I suspect she’s being sincere. The least we could do is give her the benefit of the doubt.”

Haye sighed. Although Leaf was inclined to give Pandora the benefit of the doubt, his years of training cautioned him to be wary of the changeling. There was always the very distinct possibility she was lying to protect herself. That would be reasonable, since it appeared Pandora had motive, opportunity, and she was at the crime scene at the time of Goldbit’s death—prime considerations, to be sure, and ones which put her at the top of the suspect list. Then there was Leaf’s insistence that she felt Pandora was being sincere and, as Haye thought about it, he saw that her impassioned pleas did seem to ring with truth, although this could be yet another well-crafted and skillful trick perpetrated by a species he knew nothing about.

“What is it, Reg?” asked Leaf. He turned to look at her, saw that her eyes were pleading rather than curious, as if Leaf already had an idea of what he was thinking but framed it in the form of a question, that she might approach him with it. Pandora was also watching Haye, and both mares clearly understood the expression on his face.

“I didn’t kill Goldbit!” pressed Pandora again. “If I had, would I be talking to you now? Were I guilty, I could easily have slipped out, changed my form, and slipped away never to be found again!”

“She has a good point, Reg,” said Leaf. “She could have, but here she is, and she wants to help us. I think that says quite a lot right there.”

Haye’s ears twitched and fell a little, as was his habit when thinking deeply about something. He closed his eyes and scratched his chin with the tip of his hoof, debating the various points in his mind.

Just then, Pandora impatiently reached out and, accompanied by Leaf’s startled gasp, grabbed an equally startled Haye by the head, forcing him to look at her.

“Stop it! What are you doing?” cried Leaf as she attempted to pull Pandora away from the constable.

“It’s all right,” Pandora assured her. “I’m showing him what he needs to see. I’ll show you as well, if you wish.”

Relaxing, Leaf let go of Pandora.

As Haye watched, Pandora’s eyes began to glow, and he felt a sense of something reaching into him, penetrating his consciousness. A moment later, his mind was filled with memories not his own, as if he were remembering something through someone else’s eyes. It was disconcerting, to say the least, even quite disturbing, but, as the images unfolded behind his eyelids, Haye realized that what he was seeing were Pandora’s memories from the morning of Goldbit’s death. The images were sharp, clear, and they were accompanied by Pandora’s feelings of confusion, fear, shock, and ultimately horror and pain, but no trace of anything which could remotely be called duplicitous or indicate guilt of any kind.

After a moment, Haye violently pulled himself away from Pandora’s grasp and shook his head. “Well, that was certainly different!” he muttered. “But I do believe you’ve proved yourself to my satisfaction, unless that’s some kind of changeling trick.”

Pandora glared at him darkly, a snarl on her lips. “If you won’t believe me after that, then what’s the point?” She barked that last.

“What did she do, Reg?” asked Leaf.

“She just showed me her memories of the morning of Goldbit’s death,” he said quietly, still trying to take it all in.

Leaf stared at Haye for a moment, and then turned to Pandora. “Can you show me as well?”

Pandora nodded, a trace of a smile touching her lips. Reaching out, she took Leaf’s face in her hooves, as she’d done with Haye, and passed her memories to Leaf.

Blinking and shaking her head a few seconds later, Leaf turned to Haye, her expression resolute. “That’s it, Reg! I think she’s well proved herself to us,” said Leaf with absolute certainty. “We’re going to let her help us, and that’s that.”

“Looks like I’m outvoted,” Haye at last relented, shrugging. He turned and looked at Pandora, smiling. “Welcome aboard,” he said, before turning to go. The two mares, now satisfied,  followed him out of the building.

Although, Haye still held some infinitesimally small doubt in his mind about Pandora’s participation in their investigation, what he’d just witnessed was sufficient to give him reason to be cautiously optimistic about her help. After all, it might not be some elaborate ruse and Pandora might be most sincere in helping find Goldbit’s killer, and she could do things they couldn’t, which he agreed would be quite invaluable. Finally, with a shrug, Haye reluctantly accepted Pandora’s help, put it in the back of his mind as they headed back toward Leaf’s shop considering what they would do next.

Chapter Three

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.

Read This First!

It has been my great joy and pleasure for these last few weeks to work with The Wandering Bard in producing this story. She is a very bright, marvelously talented young lady who, because of her bubbly energy and great enthusiasm, is a joy to work with. Beyond our collaborative work we have become good friends, she also becoming good friends with both my wife and daughter and she has become very dear to us. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that she has become a like a member of our family!

Also, during the course of this collaboration, I have also had the great, good pleasure of meeting and becoming acquainted with the marvelous Emylia Hawke. Kind and generous with both her time and her creative talents and skills, she has contributed much through her wonderful and expert editing talents to the creation of this story.

Finally, I give my most heartfelt thanks to my wife who you know as Ammie Kind heart. Without her constant, endless love and encouragement, her sweet and joyous enthusiasm, I never could have come this far.