Manehattan Homicide : The Red Laborer

The mare sat there at her desk, twiddling her hooves. Her pristine navy mane was bundled up with fashion because of the harsh weather outside, and the light shone off of her silver necklace, the blue gem inside sparkling. Her personality was anything but sparkling, however. Apparently, an agent was here to see her. She'd had one of her butlers take care of him, delivering him some pleasantries while she got ready. The only problem was that she was ready, she was just trying to prolong the inevitable. She felt a presence over her shoulder, and jumped when she turned to see a white unicorn, who looked like an undertaker.

She nearly fell out of her chair, ready to scream out security! What stopped her was the visible reproach of the stallion, his horn glowing as he pulled out a wallet. He flopped it open to let her examine a shining, gold badge with Federal Bureau of Investigation stamped on it.

"How in the bollocks did you-?"

"The door was left ajar, and I thought I'd let myself in. I see that you have some... Shall we say, interesting deals going on." He barely had let it show, but a tiny smirk flashed across his face for a millisecond. She felt the rage burning her veins when she got up, touching her hair back up. She quickly stuffed the papers into an empty drawer and stood there in front of it. The audacity of this pony was absolutely astounding.

"But the door wasn't-"

"So, Miss Lapiz," he interrupted again, closing the door behind him -- she swore that she could hear the click of a lock -- slowly, "I came here on the kidnapping at your estate. I was hoping you'd shed some light on this issue." This time he let a smile out, but it was a charismatic one. This was an outrage. She was about to yell out for security, hoping it would make this bastard scurry, until the stallion gave her a warning look. "I believe you and I both know of your estate, and how you have a muffling spell cast on your office."

"How do you know this?!" Her cheeks reddened. She was the only one to know this!

"It was obvious. I heard much bustling behind that door," he nodded his head behind him, "but now it seems to have ceased." He invited himself onto the cushioned couch in front of the desk. A moment of tension, so sharp that it could slice somepony's throat, stood in the room. This long stage of silence gave her an opportunity to seep in the other pony's details. He was completely white, and his eyes were like cold, hard ice. He wore a custom-made black suit, with a white shirt under it. His cutie mark was some sort of symbol, but she could be bothered less to care of this intruder's cutiemark. All cops had just about the same cutiemark, but this one was a bit different. She looked at his flank more closely, moving her head over the desk, but then she caught this fellow's eyes.

"If you can, Miss Lapiz, I'd prefer to keep this meeting professional." Now he was antagonizing her! "Now, I'd like to get all the minor details first." A small notepad appeared from his suit, along with a golden pen. "Can you give me the times of all the events planned for this party? And the list of party goers, of course."

She grumbled a response as she opened another drawer and pulled out a long list, pushing it across to his side of the desk. He levitated it over to himself and stuffed it inside his suit. He gave her an inquiring look, asking her to respond to the former.

"It was just a small party with some food, a celebration for my daughter's recent success. No other planned events. It was supposed to last five hours, starting at six o'clock, until this mess and the publicity that came with it."

"Can you recall when everypony screamed and ran out?" he asked, jotting some things down.

"It was at about eight." This was followed with more sounds of a pen scratching against paper.

"Okay, now, do you know anypony named Mildew? She's homeless."

She scoffed. "Why in the devil would I associate me with such scum like them? It's bad enough that I must be among middle-class families."

"Do you know anypony who might be against you or the people that stand with you?"

She was about to reply with you, but thought better of it. "Nopony but the retched homeless."

"Do you know the names of the murdered colt and the kidnapped?"

"No, I do not. I'm sure you'll find them on you're list."

The stallion had stopped listening, gazing past her. She followed his stare and saw the beautiful original of a painting, a vast blue sea with the sun shining over it, islands in the distance. A true piece of art, and it had cost a heavy price. Or at least, it would've if not for it being a fake.

"It's a beautiful piece of art. Mind if I inspect it?" Without waiting for an answer, he got up and trotted over to it, inspecting it. The top shades of the painting were crimson, slowly turning to an orange, then with a blue ocean underneath.

"It's an original by the master himself," she lied, grinning.

"It's very interesting." Before she could react, he quickly yanked it off the wall and threw it across the room with telekinesis. His actions revealed a safe stamped into the wall. Despite the raging fire in her core, it was dominated by worry, for the safe contained information on the past of her family. "Indeed it is, since it's obviously fake. I know what's in there, and I just need access to it. Would you be so kind as to hand it over?"

"You... You bastard! I'll have you're head for that!" She tried to be angry, but her face was drained of color.

"You'll have my head for tossing an illegally made painting, hm?" His piercing eyes met hers, and she was startled by their intensity.

"Th- You- You just vandalized my property!"

"Let's get back to the matter at hand, Miss Lapiz."

"I refuse to tell you anything!" A long moment of stasis ran between them again, until the white unicorn spoke up again.

"What do you think of the public?" The randomness of the question startled her for a moment.

"Uh, I don't know."

"What if they knew of you're past? Of how you were unsuccessful, and how all of your family fortune came from illegal deals and murders. I doubt that there couldn't be information on some family feuds in that vault." He drawled out his words, making them excruciatingly slow in his honeyed accent.

"You wouldn't dare!" She tried to give a dangerous glare, but his eyes were like daggers, countering her's.

"Oh, I'd dare."

"Hmph, it wouldn't matter anyway," she said, brushing it off nonchalantly, "since it's all in the past. My dear Octavia is the one bringing in money for the family now."

"Octavia?"

"Yes, she is my daughter, my project, and I've put nearly eighteen years of money and effort into her." She smiled proudly, but it was only met with a strange glance.

"Funny that you describe her like that."

"Like what?"

"You say nothing of you're love for her, nothing of how proud you are of her, only of how proud you are of yourself for feeding her to be what she is now. And you see her as a project? What would Octavia do if she heard about this?" Before he had finished his sentence, Lapiz immediately knew she had lost. It was unimaginable, losing all of her riches, and having her daughter run off with that horrible mare and her horrible, scratchy music. The visitor had read her mind and continued.

"You don't care that she'll dislike her own mother, only that you'll lose you're fame. A sad tale, especially if I told it to Octavia."

Lapiz slumped in defeat. "Please, don't tell her." She got up and trotted over to the safe, tapping in a code and opening it, tossing the papers at the unicorn. "You'd better not tell anypony of this. I know some ponies in high places."

"Threatening an agent won't get you anywhere." He snatched all the papers, stuffed them into his suit, and made for the door, unlocking it. So he did lock the door. She stared at the pony making his way towards the door, and it was only when it softly shut that she realized she didn't even get the pony's name. She stuffed her face into her hooves.

***   ***   ***

D'Agosta stood at the bar, sipping his cider. Pendergast was supposed to be here half an hour ago, but he couldn't be angry. He was sure he'd come back with results. Apple Jack stood in front of her, also drinking some cider. The bar was more empty than before, which was surprising when you thought of how many alcoholics came here under the cover of the night. He'd gotten a call earlier, but he just let it ring. He didn't really want to be bothered now, especially since he and Pendergast were swapping information.

"Ya' 'v been her' for a while," the orange earth pony said, trying to come up with small talk since they'd been alone for the past ten minutes, running out of conversation topics. She dug her hooves into the counter top, bored. She raised her eyes and they widened. D'Agosta turned his head and saw a white unicorn in an open black suit.

"Pendergast, you're here!" he said, happy to see his friend again.

"Hello, my dear Vincent. I hope we can help each other with this, since my past case will require some knowledge from this one. It never closed, as I requested from my superiors." He stopped for a moment, glancing at the bartender. "You must be Apple Back?"

"Applejack, but ya got it close 'nuff," she said, slapping her hoof on the counter for the gentleman, a grin on her face. Pendergast took it and shook, sitting down on one of the stools. As he started pulling out documents and papers, D'Agosta sent a stare at Applejack that said you should probably leave now. She got the message and smiled, going into the door leading to Pinkie's stage. The door bounced shut, Pendergast waiting for complete silence before he spoke. Once D'Agosta had gotten his notes out, they began to converse.

"So, uh, what did you get?" the lieutenant asked.

"We have some papers of Octavia's mother, Lapiz, and her past. Quite gruesome, with lots of crimes, and I believe we can find some families that might've wanted to get revenge. There is, however, the possibility that the poor just wanted to get revenge. I find this hypothesis troublesome because of the fact that the party was strictly for the highest class of ponies in Manehattan. That leaves us with three options." He stopped, giving a look to D'Agosta that told him to finish his sentence.

"Okay, so either a high class pony wanted revenge for her past crimes, or a poor or homeless pony snuck in. I don't see any third option, though."

"Perhaps a poor pony who stole a high class pony's outfit could've gotten in." Pendergast gave a sly smile, levitating some papers over. D'Agosta thought of this for a moment. It definitely was possible. "So, what did you find?"

"Well," the stallion started with a sigh, "definitely not as much as you did. I do know a profile of somepony of interest. Apparently, she's pretty rowdy. Her name is Mildew, a unicorn, with a yellow mane and a green coat, as well as a swirled tail. Nopony I asked knew about her cutiemark, though. She usually hangs out by Rarity's boutique, and she was at the entrance of the party when it was happening." Before he could continue, his phone buzzed. He was going to ignore it, but it kept on, even after the buzzing died out. Damn, what the hell is it with this pony? He pulled it out, and was barraged by screams.

"I've. Called. You. TWICE!" a furious mare's voice screeched. D'Agosta quickly got up, realizing who it was, and started to walk towards a corner, listening to more bombardments. Pendergast didn't even look, staring into space.

"Where were you?!"

"What were you doing?!"

"What in the hell!"

"Look," D'Agosta started, "I was busy." He left it at that, and immediately winced at his decision to do so.

"Do you know how long it was since the first time I called you?"

"Um..."

"Two hours!" the voice screeched. He heard a loud crash from the other end, and guessed that the commissioner had thrown her phone. A long pause followed until her loud voice returned.

"Good Celestia, just come to my office now and I'll discuss the problem."

"Uh," D'Agosta started stuttering, trying to come up with a lie, "I, um, I was, er, I'm in bed right now." A long, angry sigh was the result of this.

"Fine. But you best come to my office the moment you wake up. If not, I'll have your ass on a silver platter." A sharp beep came once she hung up. D'Agosta put the phone away and sighed. Tomorrow was going to be a long day. Especially if she is the angry one.

"Uh, hey Pendergast," he paused when he turned around to see Pendergast and his documents gone. Damn you.

Applejack poked her head out the door and looked at him. "Something go wrong?"

"Hell, everything is wrong." Apple Jack trotted up to him behind the bar and started filling a mug with hard cider.

"Need some?" she asked, waving it in front of his face.

"Some? Hell, I'll need all of it for the day I'm having tomorrow."

Pendergast flipped open his phone and made a call as he walked towards the more dangerous and rundown part of Manehatten, where his grand home was.

The otherwise dark room was glowing from the light that flowed from the monitors. A small chair sat in front of all of them, and the rapid sounds of a hoof hitting a key could be heard from across the small house. The occupant of the chair nearly had a heart attack when his personal phone rang. Only three people knew his phone number. Grunting, a striped leg reached out for the phone. He guessed it was Charles again. He flipped it open and raised it to his ear. The caller was the first to speak.

"Mime? I'm to call in a favor."

The figure on the chair bounced up with glee, recognizing the voice.

"Hypocrite lecture, you've finally called again. I was worried you had vanished." The chair swung around and an old zebra stepped off of it.

"No," the caller said, "but I do need some information that might've vanished. Two pieces, actually."

"Name them," Mime said without interest, trotting back to his cushioned chair. He swiveled it back towards the glowing monitors.

"I'd like you to dig up everything you can about Octavia's mother's past. Before that, I need you to track down somepony in Manehatten. Her name is Mildew, she's a unicorn, and she has a yellow mane and a green coat, cutiemark unknown. Apparently the most noticeable feature of her is her swirled tail."

Mime snorted. "Please, I can have that done by tomorrow. The Octavia business, however, might take a little bit longer."

"That's exactly why I'm asking somezebra of your skill." The call ended briefly. Mime rarely liked conversing with anypony, but that was different with Pendergast. He immediately started tapping.