The Paradoxical Purple Pony
I never considered my trot back home of any importance. I had taken this route before, many times since I started my job. It was as if my hooves knew where to go, and I was riding along, left to my own ponderings on what my life is and where it might be going. So, naturally, I don't particularly notice when there is a pony stopped right in the middle of the sidewalk.
"Oh my, I am deeply sorry," I heard myself say to the mare I nearly trampled along my way.
"It is quite alright," she replied, "I, myself, must also take some of the blame, as my mind was elsewhere." Then she looked at me. Not a glance a pony would give to an apologetic stranger on the road, not at all. She peered at every inch of me, immediately making me conscious of any hygienic missteps that might have come about this morning. I opened my mouth to protest-
"You don't have to think your cutie mark so literal, if it's not something you enjoy doing you shouldn't waste your time doing it," came a sudden and almost prophetic comment.
"Umm... excuse me?" I asked in bewilderment, and a slight bit of annoyance. I had never meant this pony before, the hat she was wearing would be hard to forget, and even if the hat was new, I felt that I would recognize how her eyes appeared to see more than could really exist.
"You are a locksmith, correct?" She asked, although it came with an almost matter-of-fact tone that showed how much confidence she had in the answer.
"I am, as you could probably tell by my cutie ma-" I suddenly realized the raincoat I was wearing today was completely covering my cutie mark, there was no way she could have seen it. "H-how did you-"
"How did I know? It is simplicity itself." She began. "At the neck of your raincoat I could just get a glimpse of the heat resistant rubber of the smock you are wearing, which, as a fashion choice, would make very little sense unless you worked as some kind of smith. The only place like that around here that closes around this time would be the locksmith's shop over on Hoofington Drive, or the armor smith's shop on the avenue across from it. Of course, working with small long objects like keys or parts to a padlock would leave small indentions at the base of the hoof much like the ones you appear to have, even though it seems you try to keep it under control with many manicures throughout the week."
The way she said it made it seem so simple. I almost felt stupid for not realizing it myself. "But...what you said about my cutie mark-"
"Again to the smock you are wearing. Although it is the uniform of your trade it appears to be under slight disrepair, and not in a way that comes about from a sudden tear or an unforeseen fall, no no no, around the neckline of your smock the rubber is coming undone from the hem, and it has slowly been doing so for a while as can be plainly seen by how it is much dirtier on the right side of the hole, and gradually gets cleaner farther to the left. this must mean the hole must have been there for a while, but the hem is slowly coming undone at the left end, uncovering more of the fabric that has yet to be toiled with grime. I would have just narrowed this down to a lack of hygiene on your part; however, as the previous statement of your many manicures will justify, you care deeply about how you look. This can be plainly seen in the time you've taken to style your mane, and the careful scrutiny you use to rid yourself of the dirt and sweat of a hard day at work. Now, with you caring so much about your appearance but making no effort to fix your uniform when in disrepair leads me to believe that you are very apathetic to the job you currently have. This left me with another question, however. Why keep a job you don't care about?"
This pony couldn't be real. She must have met me somewhere, at a party perhaps. I must have told her my life story...and simply forgot ever doing such a thing... this pony couldn't possibly be so cunning... could she? "Well how do you know I didn't just take the job because I needed money? You've never even seen my cutie mark so you couldn't know-"
"That, of course, was my first hypothesis, but considering your raincoat is a genuine Colt-de-Couture and is over four years old, which, had you been working that long in a smith's shop, you would have quite a lot of callouses on your hooves which you simply don't. So at the time of you getting this job, you must have had at least a fair income, which lead me to my next theory. You got your cutie mark. What is it? A key? A lock?"
"Umm... both... actually..."
"And you supposed this meant you had to be a smith. You had to work your frail hooves at the forges and you didn't much care for that did you?"
"Well, it was my destiny! What is a pony to do? Fight who she is?" I asserted. I wasn't quite sure why I was getting defensive. Perhaps I felt I finally discovered what I was supposed to do, and was having a hard time realizing I didn't have to be somepony I didn't enjoy being.
"Well, no... but you should perhaps learn not to let your cutie mark define what you mean, but to let yourself decide what it means."
"Thank you," I said with more than a hint of malice, "I'll certainly keep that in mind miss...?"
"Shadow Spade, and you might be?"
"I would've thought you would be able to figure that out on your own," I replied snarkily.
"Names are a difficult thing to deduce. They're abstract. I cannot look at your hooves and find your name, no more than I could look at the walls of the building and tell you the names of each brick."
"Well, my name is Silver Locks. And that," I added, pointing to a brick in a near wall, "is Carl." She giggled at my little joke. Somehow it seemed like she wasn't used to laughing, as she seemed almost ashamed of doing it. "Well, since I told you everything about me...or rather... you told me everything about me, why don't I learn a little bit about you?"
"If you observed me rather than just looked, you could probably learn more than I could tell you." I read the challenge in her voice and I prepared myself for it. I looked her up and down for something to deduce...anything... and after a while of staring at her wide-rimmed, ribbony hat, I decided to take a shot.
"Well...umm... you have a magnifying glass tucked into the ribbons of your hat so... you... read a lot..." The smile on her face grew a little bit. This was exceedingly comical to her. "And you don't look chubby so maybe you walk around a lot..." She was doing a terrible job at concealing her giggles. "So you must be a mail carrier, right?" At this point she broke out into a roaring laugh that seemed to be the first in a long time.
"I'm afraid not," she said, greatly wounding my ego, "I'm a detective working with the Baltimare Police Department. Or against the Baltimare Police Department. Depends on how cooperative they're being." She gave me a smile. "You know, a pony with an extensive knowledge of locks (and possibly how to bypass them) would be a very useful resource to have. Perhaps if you realize just how much you hate your job, you could come see me for one. Just visit me any time at 112 Confectioner's Drive."
"A job? You've barely even met me!" I asserted.
"Maybe, but I like you. And that's more than I can say about most ponies I meet."
With those words she left, my concerns about the matter becoming more incoherent as she trotted away. 112 Confectioner's Drive, I thought, Maybe if I'm not busy smithing tomorrow I'll pay her a visit.
Early next morning I handed my boss my resignation.
Author's Note
My first real attempt at a fanfiction. Kind of got inspired after seeing Rarity talk so lovingly about Shadow Spade in one of the newer episodes, and having read Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, I felt obligated to write this. Review and critique would be much appreciated. I plan on editing chapter one to include Spade's and Silver's first adventure together, but for now, this was just something I whipped up in a night. So don't get used to these relatively short chapters.
A Seizing of Sentimentality
I nervously headed to the address I couldn't get out of my head. 112 Confectioner's Drive, I repeated to myself. The street was a small, residential one with no places of business in sight. It was filled with a crowd of ponies headed to their jobs, something that, as of this moment, I didn't have. I really began to doubt myself.
All these ponies out on the street, I pondered, and she just chooses me to be an associate in whatever detective division she runs? Surely there is somepony more qualified. Surely she wouldn't just pick somepony of the street to work for her. Yet here I was, now standing in front of large wooden door of a building labeled 112. Perhaps it is not too late to beg for my old job back.
I raised my hoof to knock on the door when it suddenly burst open, revealing a stallion whose temper had grown to be as fiery as his red and orange mane. He was very aggressively mumbling to himself and didn't give me much warning as he shoved his way past me. In a final fit of anger he looked back at me and, through gritted teeth, said, "If you're looking for help, you better find somepony else." He then stomped off, the ponies on the street giving him a rather wide clearance.
With my confidence of the situation taking a further blow, I ultimately decided I had gotten too far to turn back. I shuffled quietly into the open door and found nopony in the front room. After steeling my nerves a bit, I called out, "Miss Shadow Spade?"
"Oh," came a reply from the back room, "Silver Locks! I was hoping you'd show." Out from a back room cantered the sharply dressed, purple coated pony, seemingly oblivious to the fuming unicorn that had quite recently burst from her doorway.
"So..." I started awkwardly, "was that the usual satisfied customer?"
"Oh, him. He got a little grouchy because I didn't want to work on his case. Someone had made off with his carriage and he wanted my help. Just a ordinary theft case. Even the Baltimare Police Department could handle it without scuffing up too much."
"If you say so...but it seemed really important-"
"Oh, what's important? He'll get his carriage back, the police aren't completely incompetent."
"I mean, he was looking for your help."
As Miss Spade opened her mouth for a retort, another pony stuck her head through the door, this one elderly and very frail-looking.
"Excuse me if I'm interrupting," she said. "I've had something important of mine stolen, and I would certainly love your help."
"Well I'd love hear your case," replied Miss Spade, a little to my surprise.
"Thank you dear. Well, my late husband, bless his heart, just about the only thing he could leave me when he passed was his old army knife. He had it his entire thirty-four years as a castle guard. The sweetheart would bring me a new carving everytime he returned home, so as you can imagine, the knife got quite worn quite quickly. After it had become unusable, he still carried it around for good luck. And, once he finally passed, he left it for me."
"Interesting...please continue," Said Miss Spade while withdrawing a note pad and a quill from her saddle bag to write down details. To say I was baffled would be an understatement. A stolen carriage was too small to engage her curiosity but an old knife catches her ear?
"Of course, I've always carried it around everywhere I went, most nights I don't even have the heart to set it aside while I sleep. So, you can see why I am devastated by the loss."
"This knife, would it be considered valuable? Or did it at least look valuable?" The way she talked so fluently with a quill in her mouth was very amusing.
"Not at all. It was old and rusty and I'd imagine anypony else trying to grab it would have a great fear of contracting tetanus."
"Good to know. Please tell me of when it was stolen."
"Well, I stayed late at my job at the boutique, it was a little past midnight. There weren't any other ponies out on the streets. Well...save one."
"Where exactly? In what street? Where on the street? I need as much detail as you can give."
"It was down near the corner of 2nd Street and Arlington Drive. I noticed another pony on the street a good bit behind me. Made me really nervous, so to try and take my mind off of it, I took the old knife out of my purse just to look at it in the streetlights. I heard his hoofsteps speed up a bit, and got scared, and, as it turns out, I was right to be. Once he had gotten close to where I was standing, he had telekinetically grabbed the knife and ran. He started running north, up the street, and turned left into an alleyway. I was running after him the entire time, with a lot less concern for my safety than was probably healthy. But I turned into the alleyway he turned into, and he was just gone. Nopony there. I even searched the alleyway for some kind hiding place he could've gone. Nothing. There was a door into one of the buildings, but it was padlocked."
"That knife doesn't sound very lucky to me," Miss Spades breathed in a very whispered tone, one that seemed to be meant only for herself. However,based on her suddenly agitated expression, the elderly pony had certainly heard it.
"Could you please show a bit more respect, that knife is the most important thing to me at this time."
"Oh, my apologies. Sometimes i think of something and it just goes right to my mouth without time for me to process it." I could have sworn I saw a hint of a smile cross her lips as she said that. "Do you mind if I ask a few more questions?"
"If it'll get the knife back to me, of course," she said, although it was clear she was more than a little miffed.
"It was a quiet night, correct?"
"Yes."
"Did you hear anything that might give a clue as to how he escaped?"
"No, nothing."
"What of his appearance, can you give me any details on that?"
"He was a stallion by the looks of his build, a unicorn of course, he had a black coat, a blue mane, his cutie mark was hard to make out in the night, but it appeared blue.
"You have a very interesting case, Mrs..."
"Tenderhoof."
"Yes, Mrs. Tenderhoof, I would be happy to take your case."
With those words, all of Mrs. Tenderhoof's annoyance seemed to melt away into a great smile. "Thank you very much Miss Spade!" she announced joyfully.
"Check back in from time to time and I'll let you know how your case is going."
"Again thank you, I think I must be going now, I'm sure you have better things to be doing with your time. Goodbye!" Before Miss Spade could return her goodbye, the elderly unicorn excitedly teleported away with a loud pop.
After some time had passed, my curiosity had peaked, and I couldn't help but ask, "What was so different about this case than the carriage one?"
"There is a lot more to this case than meets the eye, I believe. Anyways, if you wouldn't mind I would like your help with something."
"Of course, what do you need?"
"Wait here for a bit," she said before disappearing off into a back room. It was quite a little while before she came back. "Apologies for the wait, had a little trouble finding this," she said, motioning toward the safe she was carrying. Odd...she didn't seem like the kind of pony who loses things easily. "I've lost my key to this safe, and I would really like for you to open it for me."
"Oh, well do you need anything else from me? Any help for the case, perhaps?"
"No no, that would be all, thank you. Take it with you on your way out."
"Oh...yes ma'am..." I said, quite forlorn. I grabbed the safe and placed it in my saddlebag, and began my long journey home. It certainly gave me a while to rethink quitting my job. Am I actually meant to help her on her cases? Or did she just need a work pony? Depressing thoughts followed me all the way to the front door of my apartment.
Now I had the whole day to myself and nothing to occupy my time. Well, I had the safe to open, but that shouldn't take too long - I knew locks inside and out. I eventually just decided to read a book. The safe could be unlocked later.
After a few hours of being lost in an old Feather Quill story I'd read many times before, I decided to turn my attention to the safe. It was old and quite unremarkable. I gathered a few of the pins I used for lockpicking, and levitated them into the lock. I felt the resistance of the tumblers as I prodded at them with the pins. I felt the very satisfying sensation of feeling one of the tumblers clicking into place. The others came eventually, and at the final one, I heard the lock click.
Well, the safe was unlocked...but I didn't think she would like me opening it. That would certainly be an invasion of her privacy. I turned away to make dinner. I needed something to get my mind off of the terrible turn my life might have just went because of this pony. Some hayburgers would suffice. I was pounding the hay into patties quite violently. Out of nowhere she questions my career, I thought with a rather gratifying smack to the hay. She offers me a job having just met me. Smack! She tells me to lose my job as a locksmith- Smack! -so I can open her locked safe. Smack! Who does that pony think she is? I took a look at the pulverized patty. It was a lot flatter than I normally make them for some reason.
It didn't take long to convince myself that if she can just stick her hooves into my life like this, seeing what she was hiding in a safe wouldn't be that bad. I left my burgers on the counter and trotted back to the living room where the safe was. I pulled it open, and what was absolutely shocked as to what was inside.
Just one folded piece of paper, nothing else. Written on the top in a hurried calligraphy, was "Silver Locks." I took it in my hoof to get a better look at it, and with a confident nervousness I unfolded the paper.
Dear Silver Locks,
It's good to know your curiosity will allow you to look into other ponies private things. Don't worry though, as a detective, that isn't a bad quality to have. My apologies for putting a lock right back in your hand after you just kicked the stuff. I just had to be sure that even though you had plenty of experience with locks, that you could also unlock one without a key. I'm not usually allowed into places I need to be, and aside from being a partner in which to confide, you could also be extremely helpful with this problem. Speaking of places I need to be, do you remember Mrs. Tenderhoof mentioning the alleyway just north of the corner of 2nd and Arlington? Meet me there tonight at midnight. I'd like to take a look inside this door she mentioned. Come armed.
Shadow Spade
I never thought my anger towards anypony could dissipate so fast. Suddenly everything was exciting. I was going to be helping in actual crime cases! I didn't think anything could possibly upset me...at least...until the full force of that last sentence hit me. Come armed. I did have an old pistol I kept, just for when I happened to be walking down one of the worse parts of Baltimare, but I never expected to use it, and I certainly never expected to have a job that required it. But...I was needed. And, even if it wasn't the most pristine job, it was certainly better than my last one.
After a deep breath I floated my saddle bag over to me. I listed off everything I thought I would need. First, to get it out of the way, was the old revolver. Next, my lock picking pins, and...well, I guess I was expecting a longer list. I went to the bathroom to get my mane in order. The almost metallic silver was in an a bit of disarray. I brushed it into a smoother state...then realized that I was going out in the middle of the night, and the condition of my mane was probably unimportant.
I looked at the time. Six twenty-three. I still had about 6 hours to get there. With a drawn-out sigh I returned to my book.
Author's Note
Although this was a slightly longer chapter than the last, I think I might start having an entire case in each chapter. It will, of course, take a longer time for me to update the story, but I think it would seem more coherent and organized. However, doing the shorter chapters like this also has it's benefits. I can get them out more quickly first of all, it gives me time to think of more cases, and I believe it might enable me to better think-out Shadow Spades deductions, because those require a lot of brain-power to think up. I already have most of her deductions for this case thought out, you kind of have to so you can incorporate the clues into the story. Fun fact, I have already put in most clues Shadow Spade is going to use to come to a conclusion on this case, of course, you guys wouldn't be able to figure out the name of the pony who stole the knife, as names are abstract and hard to derive from facts...even though the pony with the silver mane is named Silver Locks... Anyways, hope you enjoyed!
