C.R. Detective Agency: Case File, Corrupted Roots

C.R.’s Detective Agency: Case File, Corruptions Roots. By: Snoopy8009

Chapter 4: Square One

By the time C.R. got back to the building with his office it was well into the night, from ground level he could see a couple of lamps turned on inside his office, ‘Cherryl must still be in’ he though. Opting to use the elevator this time he mashes the button, a chime rang out in the empty foyer of the building. The ride up was a slow one, it was a poorly maintained elevator and he hoped it wouldn’t go out in-between floors, once it had gotten stuck in-between the seventieth and eighteenth floor and word has it the occupant who was stuck didn’t do close spaces well and had tried to get out onto the eighteenth floor, unfortunately for him the elevator started going down while he was half way out and proceeded to cut him in half. It was a bad day to be the janitor; they say you can still see the stain in the floor on eighteen.

Thankfully the elevator chimed at C.R.’s floor and the doors slid open. Going to his office door and opening it he limped in. C.R. was met with Cherryl cheerful face followed by her giggling. “What did you lose everything in a poker game again?” she said with a smile, until she had seen the bloody rag and trickle of fresh blood down his back leg. “Geez Rocky, what happened, are you alright?” she said the smile left her face and was replaced with concern as she sprang up to help him.

“What this? It’s nothing, just some young fiery red headed mare stole my clothes and her father stabbed me in the flank as I jumped out the window.” C.R. said with a smirk.

“Oh har, har, go sit down so we can take care of that before it gets infected, you can’t afford an amputation and I won’t do it for free.” She replied, moving off to get the medical kit after she sat him down in the chair outside his door she asked him from the small side room, “So what happened? Did ya find anything out?”

Adjusting himself for a better seating position he replied “Yes and no,” taking a moment to think about the afternoon he continued. “I went to the Pin and met Slips out side; she gave me some information and keys to the back door and safe inside for my coat. After I infiltrated the joint I got into Hogs office and found some hot information about what he was up to.” Taking a moment to breathe and to allow this information to be soaked up, Cherryl trotted back in with a large medical box, it was canary yellow and had a pink cross, and somepony thought it would be funny to put three butterfly stickers on the old medical box. Spitting out the box handle and flipping it open Cherryl pulls various supplies that would be of no help in this case.

“Well at least you had gotten out of there mostly intact.” She responded “Now hold still while I clean this.” as she took a clean but old rag from the box, opened a bottle of alcohol and soaking the rag. After doing this she started to clean away the dirt, and only stopping to remove the pieces of table that had not been removed when C.R. pulled the larger piece out and with each dab from the rag C.R. winced from the stinging, burning sensation accompanied by the cooling sensation as the alcohol whisked away, leaving behind a strong smell and a germ free wound.

“Yeah but unfortunately I lost the ledger, and I didn’t get a good look at it, so may as well have been for nothing, how’s Miss Eyes doing? You get her set up someplace?” C.R. grunted out. Cherryl finished cleaning out the wound to the best of her abilities; she grabbed a wing-full of gauze and started dressing the wound.

“She’s doin’ fine for now, I put her up in a nice motel a few blocks from here. So what are you gonna do now Rocky?” Cherryl asked, the look of concern not leaving her face. C.R. scrunched up his face in deep thought. After a few moments and a heavy sigh he responds.

“Well I can’t poke around the Pig Pin for awhile now, plus I don’t have the keys anymore so I’ll have to go ask around about the missing kid at the Docking District, hopefully somepony there will be able to help me.” As she finished her work C.R. said “But first I need sleep and whiskey, thanks for patching me up Cherryl.”

“No problem Rocky, you’re lucky that it don’t need stitches. I aint much of a seamstress.” Her facial features relaxed a bit and a small smirk appeared as she continued. “But really I’m glad you aren’t hurt bad, and sleep sounds like a good idea, I might have to skip on the whiskey part though, I’m more of a scotch mare myself.” She said as she neatly stuffed the supplies back into medical box and put it back into the side room. After which she moved to grab her things and after she turned off her lamp and the main lights in the waiting room she started to head out the door. “I’ll see yah in the mornin’ Rocky, unless you need me to stay for awhile.”

With a wave of his hoof he replies “No, no you go on, you’ve stayed long enough today I live here, you gotta walk across town and it’s already late, I should be asking if you want me to walk you home.”

“Not with that leg of yours mister, I don’t want to have to patch you up a second time today!” she says with a grin. “But thanks for the offer Rocky. Good night Rock.” With a squeak the door opens and softly clicks into place, followed by the sound of the deadbolt as she locked it. With a groan C.R. moves to the side room where Cherryl got the medical kit and inside it was big enough for a hammock the rest of the room was filled with filing cabinets, and file folders.

Most of the folders were neatly tucked inside the cabinets but they had started to create mountains of folders all were from past cases, slowly limping to the cabinet closest to the hammock C.R. pulled out the bottom drawer, inside was a big bottle of the good whiskey and a small glass. The worn out label had said something like, ‘Sweet Apple Jack Whiskey’ it was before Applejack had been given duties to manage the food production in Equestria. Now she wouldn’t even have time to make this special whiskey. It takes almost a lifetime to make this stuff, and it’ll make even the most stout drinkers tattered in no time. Pouring himself a glass worth about two shots, he gingerly sipped the drink, relishing the taste and the burning as it went down smooth, real smooth. He finished the last bit in his glass and corked the bottle putting it away, with a heavy sigh he climbs into the hammock and drifts slowly to sleep.