My splitting headache is what stirred me from my sleep. Not the ambulance siren when it came and went, not Qwick's persistence in his attempts to wake me. But the headache from my previous night's drinking. I manage to open my eyes and sit up. Looking around, I notice I'm still in the hotel. And further observation of my surroundings reveal a grey stallion asleep next to me. I can't help but smile.

Until I look to the analog clock on the nightstand and my eyes widen at the time. 10:37.

"Fuck!" I shout, hopping out of bed quickly. Too quickly. A dizzy spell hits me and I fall to the floor. Followed by laughing.

"Careful there! Don't want to faint again," Qwick snickers. He turns on the lamp on his nightstand while I clamber to my hooves. I look to him then to the chair behind him.

"Got any Asprin?" I ask, quickly trotting over to my stuff on the chair. I hear him stifle a chuckle.

"I put it into one of your coat pockets," He tells me. I thank him as I throw on my holster then coat, my head throbbing. "You leaving?"

"Yeah, I was supposed to be back at the lab at seven. It's almost eleven," I explain, trotting to the door.

"Alright! I'm gonna head over to Silver's room and see if I can find any reason why he was so volatile."

"Where did he go?" I ask Qwick, turning back around.

"I called the cops not too long ago. Ambulance and two officers showed up and sent him to the hospital. I asked them to hoof cuff him to the bed but not do anything until I get some time to look into it. It took some time to convince them, but once I did, they were pretty unhappy."

An hour and two Aspirin later, I'm standing in examination scrubs in the morgue. Tango stands next to me, both of us quiet in respect of the gruesome sight in front of us.

Laying on the aluminum necropsy table in front of me is the remains of the little filly that was killed, presumably from SFS. But now something else has appeared. Evidence that the filly was tied up when placed into the chest.

"She had to of been in there a long time." Tango says, breaking the silence. "The lack of the Adipocere and insects supports that claim. And the fact that the rope is almost rotten gone."

Silence.

"It's a Zebra."

"What?" I ask, looking over to him.

"These are the remains of a Zebra," He restates, motioning over the remains.

"I haven't worked with many Zebra skeletons, so how can you tell?" I request, getting closer to the bones.

"Well, Zebra skeletons are very similar to that of a Pony, except this," He lifts up the skull, tilting it side to side. "What do you see?"

I watch as he moves it around. The Infraorbital Forman looks right, mandible is the right size. Then something catches my eye.

"The Zygomatic arch is bigger!" I shout, a little to loud.

The Zygomatic arch is the bone just behind, and almost above, the eye. it's what helps support the cheek muscle.

"Precisely." Tango nods, replacing the skull.

"So, to recap, this is a zebra infant, about two to three years old going by size and bone development. She was presumably killed from symptoms of Shaken Foal Syndrome, tied up and left to rot for, oh, what do you think?"

"Well, I'd say about a year at least. Because lack of Adipocere means that they were left in a dry area, not underwater where they were found. But impossible to tell any further due to the water damage to the bones." Tango says.

"Y'know," A voice chimes, walking into the morgue. "Some old Zebra culture required the body to be bound for burial because they thought that it would discourage the demons from possessing the corpse."

I look up to see who said that. Tango was quicker.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Qwick. And you are?" Qwick demands, squinting threateningly at Tango.

"Name's Tango. I'm a Forensic Hippologist working out of RCIS's Canterlot division."

"Ok, good. I'm an RCIS agent. Working under Chief Note." Qwick explains.

"Stallions!" I shout, gathering both of their attention. "Please, lets get to work. Qwick, why are you here?"

"I'm here to ask you to help with Silver's room."

"Later! Explain how you know that about Zebra culture."

"Took Zebra culture at the academy." He tells me.

"Ok! Well, then let me tell you what we know."

Qwick nods as I finish explaining everything Tango and I found out.

"I have no answer on why they would have shaken the child. But, in some ancient Zebra cultures, they wouldn't bury their dead. They would make platforms with long legs, 20-25 hooves tall, and place their dead up high in a box or chest.
Such as this," He waves a good towards the rotten out chest.

"Is that still practiced today?" I ask him, getting a shake of the head no.

"The Zebra tribes that practiced that died out at least a couple hundred years ago."

"Wait... Tango?" I ask, turning to him. He raises an eyebrow quizzically. "Since you're a unicorn, can you cast an age approximation spell of these?"

"Yeah. It will take some time but I can do it."

"How long?"

"Couple hours at least. That kind of magic is complicated." Tango explains. I thank him then turn back to Qwick while Tango gets to work.

"You said you needed help with something?" I ask.

"Yep! We found a few things in Silver's apartment we need you to see."

"We?"

"Me and Chief Note."

Qwick leads as we walk into the apartment next to mine. Standing aside the bed and facing the door is a pure black stallion whom I know as Chief Note. He's wearing a two piece suit with a bag slung over his flank.

"Ah! Andreah perfect." He smiles, waving me over with a gloved hoof. "I need you to explain a few things to me."

"Fire away." I say nervously, unsure of what he needs.

"Might as well start small, do you know why Silver had this in his coat?" Chief asks me, holding up a polaroid of a chestnut brown mare looking at something out of frame. It's the picture of me that Film took.

"I used to be his marefriend. Why would that be odd for him to have a photo of me?"

"Just answer the question."

"I don't know how he got it. Last I checked I had that. The Forensic Photographer who was working the chest scene took that without my permission. I sc-"

"I don't care how it came to be, I just wanted to know how he got it." Chief cuts me off, placing the photo onto the bed then walking over to the bag at the hoof of the bed. Pulling out an orange bottle with a white lid and tossing it to me. I catch it with a wing. "Read it."

I turn it over to read the label but the big black letters catch my eye.

Take one capsule one hour before sleeping

Secobarbital

"Secobarbital," I whisper to myself.

"What?" Qwick.

"Secobarbital," I say louder. "It's a barbiturate. This one in particular used to treat Insomnia. Side effects can be things like irritability or excitability."

"Traits he's been exhibiting since the start of this case..." Qwick sighs, I nod.

"That's not all." Chief chimes in, raising a clear bottle from the bag. He shakes it, causing the liquid inside slosh around. "You know what this is?"

I sigh deeply then nod solemnly. "It's morphine."

"Shit." Quick voices.

"Is there evidence of it being used?" I ask the Chief. He hums a yes.

"Fresh needle in the box in the bathroom."

I look down to the Secobarbital in my wing and look at the prescription date.

"What's today?" I ask.

"The Fifth."

This was refilled two weeks ago.

"Can you grab me a containment bag?" I ask Chief and he grabs one out of his bag and follows me over to the vanity mirror's counter in the back of the room. He placed it onto the counter and I dump the pills onto it. I count them.

"These were prescribed two weeks ago and he's supposed to take one very night. He's given thirty. How many do you see right here?"

I let them count.

"Twenty," They say in unison. Then Qwick says, "Shit."

"Yes. Shit. He should have sixteen left. Not Twenty. And according to the bottle he's already gotten his two other refills. Meaning he just abruptly ended taking them." Then an epiphany.

"He's going into withdrawal." I say.

"What do you mean?" Qwick asks, turning to face me.

"I mean he's going into withdrawal. The irritability we've been seeing isn't from taking this. It's from not! Then last night, after you two burst into my room and he ran his hoof through my mane. He was trembling. But he's been too high on Dilaudid to recognize the symptoms! Shit, we need to notify the doctors!" I shout, spinning around.

"For what? They'll recognize the signs." Chief protests.

"Not in time! With his body in a weak state from the withdrawals, they'll only see that. They wont know that the dilaudid is in his system until it's too late. Secobarbital is a respiratory suppressant. So is Dilaudid. With both stacked, he won't get enough oxygen and he'll die!" I start to run but Chief gets ahead of me and stops my sprint.

"They've got a police phone on the street corner. i'll get the cops closest to the hospital to notify them," Chief says before running out.

My adrenaline dies down watching Note run out the door. I fall to my flanks dizzily and Qwick catches me.

"Thanks," I say to him. His response is a small nibble on my ear.

Author's Note

OK! I just made up the Zygomatic arch difference because i needed plot! In reality, the zygomatic arch is the same on both a horse and zebra.

Remember, 1 hoof = 1/2 foot

OKAY! So i had to do a LOT of research on barbituates and hydromorphone. It's not my field of expertise so if i got something wrong, please say so!

With both Respiratory Depressants, Silver would either Hypoventilate (Hypo lack of) and Hypoxia would occur and he would die within minutes. Or his lungs would seize and he would die in minutes because of Hypoxia.