Inspector Flash Sentry: The Shadows of London

by ValiantKnight

Rating: mature
Tags: Adventure, Equestria Girls, Sex, Flash Sentry, Profanity, Violence, Death, Alternate Universe, Human, Main 6, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Mystery, Spike, Romance
Length: 7401

It is the Winter of 1870 in London the jewel of the British Empire under Queen Celestia's rule. 15 years after the Crimean War a murder in Southwark calls Inspector Flash Sentry to his greatest case yet.

It is the Winter of 1870 London, and there has just been a murder. Factory Manager Timber Spruce was found dead outside the Tirek Firearms Facotry. What looks to the police commissioner as a simple suicide makes Police Sargent and Crimean War veteran Shining Armor see it for what it is, murder. For whatever reason both the commissioner and mayor want the matter buried and gone. For the sake of his sister and sense of justice Shining Armor calls on an old friend. Inspector Flash Sentry a fellow veteran of the Crimean War answers his old comrades call to solve this mystery with his partner Big Macintosh another fellow ex-soldier from the war.

The Country is in midst of what people are calling a second industrial revolution as machines unlike no other wonder the world. The British Empire expands ever further and under all of this the emerging middle class carve out their own place in society. In a world of change, political intrigue and, deceit what is the murder of one man in a sea of other tragedies. Follow Flash Sentry and Big Macintosh delve into the dark truth about the city of marvels.

By the way just to make things clear, I do not hate Timber Spruce. His murder was just the only person I could think off to make sense for this story. So I hope no one comes here expecting a character bash lol. I hope you enjoy my first delve into a mystery story. I shall endeavor to give you all the necessary clues, and remember the devil is in the details.

Published 2018-07-10 21:30:07 UTC
Last updated 2018-07-12 19:28:15 UTC

Prologue: A Murder in London

England 1870, Southwark London

The night air of London was cold and cut through a man like a knife through hot butter. Timber Spruce shivered and pulled his frock coat close around his frame. The cobblestoned streets of Southwark were covered by light snow while gas lamps kept the darkness at bay. Grunting a curse at the cold, the young factory manager stepped aside to let the last of his employees out of the factory. A strapping young lad, Bulk Biceps strong as an ox if somewhat dim witted in Timber’s opinion smiled at him.

“Till tomorrow Sir,” Bulk donned a flat cap and tipped it in a goodbye. Timber donned his own top hat and tipped in return. Bulk huddled into his sack coat and walked away, Timber turned to lock the door to the factory. Reaching for his keys, a loud bang resonated from inside. The sound made Timber jump and take a step back from the door. Frowning, the young man opened the door and stepped inside into the darkened factory. The light of the moonlight filtered through the ceiling windows. The machinery inside the factory casted long ominous shadows, they now lay dormant after a full day of work. Timber sighed and pressed his hands against the adjacent cold wall to his right. He felt for the large lever that turned on the factory lights. His hands found the wooden grip and he flipped the switch down. A loud clank echoed inside, followed by a low buzzing sound that faded as light flooded the factory floor.

Outside about two blocks away Bulk shivered as a particularly harsh wind knocked his cap off his head. He turned to pick it up when he noticed the factory lights were on. Bulk picked his cap off the floor and wiped the snow away, all the while staring at the factory. In the darkness of the night with only the moon and street lamps illuminating the world. It looked like beacon beckoning him back. He knew the lights shouldn’t be on, he had worked there long enough to now the factory should be well and closed. With a curious hum, he walked back to his place of work.

Timber Spruce gasped, inside the storage house behind the factory the lights were on. The huge sliding doors leading inside were opened slightly. He wondered closer to gaze through the space between the doors. His eyes widen five figures between two racks of crates, Timber noted they wore cloaks that obscured them utterly from his vision. As well they had their backs to him, though he could make out towards the left of them an open crate. While at the center there was a fifth collapsed figure. The collapsed person reached out with a white gloved hand now coated red. One of the cloaked figures produced a revolver and aimed down at the collapsed figure.

“Madness” the figure groaned out loud enough for Timber to hear.

“Roma Invicta.” The armed assailant pulled back on the guns hammer with his thumb and fired. Timber gasped and fell back on his behind. His keys clattering from his coat pocket onto the floor. The young manager flinched and looked back to the figures. They had all turned to stare at the opening. Two black gloved hands grabbed the left door. The railings the door was built in screeched horribly, like a wailing animal in Timbers ears. A seventh man apparently unseen before stepped before Timber through wide open door. He wore all black with just the white of his shirt to contrast his clothing. Timber recognized him, he knew this man.

“Silence him,” the man with the gun calmly began walking towards Timber. Timber scrambled to his feet while the man in black reached into his frock coat. Timber ran opposite of the storehouse and turned left behind a machine. His top hat bobbed off his head, but he paid it no heed and climbed the first flight of stairs before him. The stairs stopped at platform before another set to the left of them to keep ascending up. Timber turned in time to see the man in black turned the corner and run after him. Quickly Timber climbed the steps two at a time and ran up the hanging walkway. Timber knew his pursuer the man’s name escaped him while he was riddled with fear, but he knew his name. Timber just had to get away get outside and call for help!

He turned left on the walkway to the offices. He headed inside and turned right where another walkway awaited him and led to the front factory door. He ran partly through the walkway when he saw two of the mysterious men were there to head him off. He back paddled quickly and ran back into the office. just ahead was another walkway that led to the factory balcony. The man in black entered where Timber originally came through, he raised his arm pointed at Timber. The young manager ducked knowing without a doubt he would be shot. He ran through the door frame onto the walkway. His footfalls clanged against the metal much like his heart beat against his ribcage. He burst through the door into the cold chilling his slightly sweaty forehead. Timber skidded to a stop and leaned on the railing. He was trapped, he shivered feeling his heart drop to his stomach in sheer terror.

Timber moved to the far right of the balcony and looked down below. The fall might not kill him, but his legs would surely break, he was two stories high and no a soul was outside. the young manager gasped for air and turned back, the man in black was standing just beyond the door. His framed heaved as he caught his breath much like Timber himself. Timber leaned back bracing against the railing, the metal old and, rusted groaned in protest. His pursuer walked closer and Timber felt tears prickle at his eyes. He reached to his inner frock coat pocket, the man in black froze and did the same. He kept his hand inside his coat when Timber produced a locket instead of a weapon. The young man opened the locket to a picture of a young woman. Timber kissed the pictured and closed the locket grasping it tightly with both hands. He looked towards the man in black and took a deep breath. Timber nodded once, the man in black retrieved his hand from his coat and stood before Timber. Taking a step back the man lifted his foot and delivered a kick right on Timbers chest. He flew back the railing snapping from the force sending him down towards the floor. No scream escaped him the kick having taken air out of his lungs. Timber hit the floor back of his head first with a loud thud. The man in black looked over the broken railing and quickly turned away, his job was done.

When Bulk was halfway through the factory the lights just turned off. He lifted his cap and scratched his short-cropped hair. He figured Mister Spruce might still be there, so curious to find out why he was still there, Bulk walked towards the factory. When he arrived, he tried the front door and it was closed. He moved around the left of the building to the yard next to it. Bulk walked through to find a collapsed figure. The light from the street lamps barely illuminated the area. Bulk squinted through the poor lighting and stepped near the body. He heard a splash, like he had stepped in water. Crouching down Bulk peered closer at the ground, his eyes widen and he felt his heart skip a beat. He stood up quickly staggering back and falling on his behind. He quickly rubbed his foot against the cobblestone floor trying to wipe it clean. He stepped on blood, Bulk put a hand to his chest to calm his frenzied heart. Taking deep breaths, he stood again and looked at the fallen man. Bulk covered his mouth, with eyes wide and unblinking, Mister Spruce lay dead staring at the moonlit night.

“The bobbies, I- police!” Bulk stood and ran out into the streets, he shouted at the top of his lungs running down the streets.

“Police! Police!” Bulk ran as far as his previous location, in his luck a cart pulled up with two bobbies on it. “Murder! Sirs murder at the factory!” Bulk ran to the bobbies, they halted their cart and tried calming down the frightened man.

“Sirs Murder, Mister Spruce has been murdered!” The night was cold on November 22, 1870 in Southwark London the murder of Timber Spruce had just occurred.

Author's Note

hello my fellow pony fans! I decided to write a story set in Victorian London. Or I guess Celestian London, lol. Seeing as the era was named after Queen Victoria in real life. But I have quickly fallen in love with this time period and started thinking of an idea. So this story began taking shape, so I hope you can follow me through this journey of mystery and romance, to uncover the murder of Timber Spruce!

Chapter 1: Inspector Flash Sentry

England 1870, Whitechapel London

The first rays of morning broke through the clouds above the capital of the British Empire. Yet even before that, Inspector Flash Sentry was up before the sun began to rise. In the hours before the twilight of morning, Flash prepared for the day ahead. He entered his personal lavatory flicked on the lights and did his morning routine. After a good ten minutes Flash exited refreshed and prepared for the day ahead. Flash was a tall man of six and one, he had striking blue hair which he generally swept back with a comb. His face was clean shaven, opting to forego the mustache and mutton chop look that was craze these days. His eyes were a sharp striking blue and he had a lithe frame, but beneath his layers was still the body of a soldier. As per usual, he donned his light blue knickers and comfortable flat shoes. He strode outside into the streets of Whitechapel borough. The gas lamps had just started to dim as he took a deep breath and began a light jog through the streets.

Flash controlled his breathing each step deliberate and calculated, while in his mind rang a song to keep in step. A fond memory of his time in training at Salisbury Plane, well perhaps not as fond, he did remember the flogging of the ruffians and the weak who only joined the army to not starve in the streets. Flash turned a corner nimbly dodging the people exiting to earn their bread as it were. When he reached the far end of the street he turned again and entered the poorer end of Whitechapel. Quite used to it, the smell no longer made him cough up a storm. Still he jogged, ignoring the beggars who were waking and asking for a shilling. He picked up his pace, truth be told this was the part of his morning routine he hated most. Going through the poorer end of Whitechapel brought him unsavory memories. His drunk mother and the men, so many of the bloody men with the stench of whisky on them. He reached the halfway point, at the street intersection. He slowed down to a stop jogging in place as a cart with two bobbies patrolling trotted past him. The horse’s hooves against the cobblestone path made him twitch a little.

Other memories began unearthing themselves, ones he thought buried deep, the yells of valor came first. Then the screech of artillery, the crack of explosions and the screams of animal and men filled his world. The smell, it slithered into his lungs, atop his horse he looked on the carnage as a feast for crows was laid before him.

“Sir?” a child’s voice dissolved the image before his minds eye. Flash was standing still his jog forgotten. Blinking away the last of the images, he looked down to a dirtied child. A small girl with bare feet and a brush on her shoulder.

“Pardon, I was” Flash rubbed his eyes and let out a sigh, “having a nightmare.”

“Oi, wo’r you sleepin standin up?” she cracked a toothy grin. “You’s a strange one Sir.” She shifted the brushes to her other shoulder. “I asked you if you need yor’ chimney clean.’ Courtesy o’ the Whitechapel cleanin’ company.”

“No, I don’t require your services, thank you. More so I never heard of this, Whitechapel Cleaning Company.”

“Ah is a new one, see Scootalo said if we go to business fo’ ourselves we’s can pocket all the money for ourselves!” the girl puffed her chest out proudly as if she thought of the idea herself. Flash raised a brow a smile tugging at his mouth. He knew Scootalo a bit of a character and in his experience too good a pickpocket. She was known for coming up with ideas to help the kids in the borough. Most usually required some, as she put it “bendin’ the rules a little.”

“Where did you get the brushes?” Flash raised a blue brow at the young girl.

The girl took a step back and glared at him suspiciously. “You’ ain’t no bobbie are ya?”

“No,” He technically wasn’t, he was an inspector to be precise. The girl eyed Flash suspiciously for a moment before she motioned for Flash to get closer. Crouching to her level he let her whisper in his ear.

“Scootalo saw a cart yea’ had some brushes, the blokes drivin’ the cart went with some four by fours behind the alley. So Scootalo got’s to thinkin’ they got the shillings to spend on Tomies, they won’t miss a few brushes.” The girl snickered stepping back. Flash shook his head and chuckled, one of this days she was going to get caught by an actual officer. Flash bid his goodbye to the girl and cut his run short deciding to return home. He cut down the street and made a left to his street. He passed more of the folks making their way to the train station. So many of them moving down to Southwark and, Lambeth. Flash reached his home and entered locking the door behind him. Inside was his partner and old friend Big Macintosh. His friend had cooked them breakfast, the smell of eggs filling the room and giving it a homier feeling.

“Morning Mac, thanks for the breakfast.” Flash nodded and walked his way up to his rooms to change.

Big Mac scanned the stories about Parliament and the coming election for Prime Minister. Among the prominent candidates the Liberals were championing Mister Sunburst. While the conservatives with royal backing from Prince Blueblood no less, were championing Duke Tirek. All and all, the race was to be… interesting to say the least. Mac sighed and closed the paper, the whistle of the kettle calling for his attention. He prepared the china, really their most valuable possession on a wooden trey. He set the sugar, cups and spoons and moved back to the dining table. He poured hot water in two cups and mixed the tea. A local brew, one that Flash called horse piss compared to the brew a client once gave them along with payment for a case. Sadly, the brew was long gone and now they drank from the local shop. Sitting down at the table Mac poured himself some tea and sipped at it while he picked up the newspaper again. He scanned the abroad section. The empire was ever expanding, while the East India Trading Company was on the decline.

“What news in merry ol’ London today my friend?” Flash returned down stairs. He looked towards Mac, his friend had blond hair neatly combed back. A strong physic built from his time as a farms hand and a soldier. Mac wore a white shirt with dark brown waistcoat and dark brown trousers Mac forwent the Cravat this morning. Setting the paper down, Mac set his emerald gaze at the tea. “Aye, I’ll drink and yes I know it’s gone from hot to warm. But you know my sensibilities after drinking the good stuff.” Flash grinned, he donned a new white shirt, black striped trousers and a red double-breasted waistcoat with a silver chain, he donned a similarly red cravat.

“elections, expansion and, business.” Mac folded the paper and tossed it dismissively on the table. Flash chuckled and ate his breakfast in silence while enjoying his tea. Or at least drank it without making a face of disgust. With breakfast finished Flash rolled up his sleeves and cleaned the dishes while Mac went to the living room to their bookshelf scanning for something to read.

A knock on the door made them pause in their task. Mac moved to the door and opened it, outside a familiar face removed their helmet politely. “Evening Mister Macintosh, if you’re here, I’m assuming Inspector Sentry is here as well.” Officer Silver Star with his proud handlebar moustache smiled at Mac. He wore his police garbs in blue a cloak over coat and trousers with black polished shoes.

“Ayep,” Mac moved aside and invited the officer inside. The officer entered and placed his helmet on the hat rack with Big Mac’s flat cap and Flash’s top hat. Flash himself wiped his hands as was proper and greeted the officer with a firm handshake.

“Mister Star, I don’t suppose this is a social call is it?” Flash gestured to a couch in the living room.

Silver raised a hand and politely declined the offer, “afraid not, there has been a.” Silver star paused, his hands groped the air as if trying to find the words floating before him. “Bloody hell, Sergeant Shining Armor, despite the powers that be, insist there’s been a murder.” Silver scratched his head and sighed wearily.

“Where?” Flash’s eyes narrowed in thought, Shining Armor wouldn’t call him if it wasn’t serious. His old friend took pride in the police handling investigations and crime themselves. To call in an outsider was certainly a special case.

“Southwark, last night we have a witness a factory worker who said he found the victim already dead.” Silver jabbed his thumb behind him to gesture south of Whitechapel and The City of London proper.

“Sounds curious, what powers that be would want this case closed?” Flash moved towards small fire place gazing at portrait of Big Ben he had commissioned as payment for a case.

“Lord Mayor Gladmane and Police Commissioner Caesar.” Silver turned to face Flash’s back hands clasped before him.

Flash turned on a dime his brows raised, “that high up? Why are the commissioner and Lord Mayor interested if this isn’t a murder?” Flash stroked his chin, “better yet why are they so intent on not calling it a murder. What’s the verdict wished to be handed to the press?”

“Suicide Inspector,” Silver nodded.

“I say, that is mighty suspicious indeed, what say you, old friend have we found ourselves a new case?” Flash smiled at his partner.

“Ayep,” Mac was already opening the coat closet near the door retrieving their coats.

“I was told you would accept, Sergeant Shining Armor instructed me to take you to the scene myself.” Silver moved towards the door retrieving his helmet along the way.

“Well, if policing doesn’t work out as an occupation for you Mister Silver, try and become a peddler. You talked up this case marvelously.” Flash smirked, Mac opened Flash’s favorite black frock coat and helped him into it while Mac wore his favorite red sack coat. With his coat set Flash moved to a drawer near the bookshelf and retrieved a silver pocket watch with a fine chain attached to it. The watch was memento from a Russian officer that had no need for it after Balaclava. He wined up the watch and made sure the time was properly set and pocketed the watch inside his coat, he then attached the chain to the pocket sleeve.

“Very well gentlemen, let us not waste more time.” Flash walked out first and grabbed his top hat from the rack and the rest followed. They mounted the police cart though as the front only sat two Mac offered to ride in the back. Snapping the reins, Silver Star made for Southwark and took care to be diligent. Flash crossed his arms and took the scenery passing him by. The closer one got to the City of London proper the better the building quality got. The borough gave way to the empires heart of commerce, and sub sequentially the world’s. The empires expansion with naval superiority had made London the busiest city in the world Ships docked day in and out. Flash’s thought of commerce was broken when the Mansion House, where the Lord Mayor lived passed them by. A place Flash noted to visit after inspecting the crime scene.

They crossed one of London’s many bridges with traffic already starting to pile in. cabs and, buses delivering fairs and cargos to their destinations. Once off the bridge they made a right to a series of factories manufacturing everything from pots to clothes. The smell of ash faintly filled the air as machines breathed life into the industry of the empire. Just off Thames River, several ships docked near the factories delivering raw goods from all corners of the empire. Ahead of them from all the smoking stacks from the factories a lone building emitted no such smoke. Outside several police carts and officers kept a crowd of people at bay, protesting the police blockade. Silver drove them just off to the right sidewalk where the officers spotted him and let his cart through parting the people aside. Flash and Silver quickly stepped down, and Silver excused himself to release Mac from behind.

Flash scanned the area; the crowd was parted some twenty feet from the factory. Several of the police carts formed a perimeter with officers in between keeping the shouting people from crossing. Flash turned to the factory when Mac and Silver walked up to him. “This way to the sergeant sirs,” Silver motioned towards the yard where most of the officers were concentrated. Flash instantly picked out Shining Armor among the officers. He was just a year older than himself and Mac. He wore his dark blue hair combed and cut above his shoulders beneath a bowler hat. He wore a black frock coat with dark grey trousers and a grey double-breasted waistcoat. Shining armor had soft yet peerless blue eyes that could stare into a man’s very soul.

“sergeant, Inspector Flash Sentry and Mister Big Macintosh.” Silver stopped by Shining and waved at Flash and Mac.

“Thank you, officer Silver.” Shining Armor gave his subordinate a firm nod.

“Will there be anything else sir?” Silver stood at attention.

“Yes, go and help the men keep order, tell the people we will let them come to work as soon as we can.” Shining patted Silver and the officer scurried off to do as he was told.

“Inspector, Mister Macintosh thank you for coming.” Shining greeted them with a handshake each.

“Anything for you, old friend, now let us get down to the matter at hand. Murder or suicide.” Flash moved to the body with Mac and Shining right behind him.

“Murder, I can guarantee you that much.” Shining crossed his arms and let Flash and Macintosh do their thing.

“What was the fellows name?” Mac stared at the pale corpse, he had dark green hair damp at the ends from the blood he laid on.

“Timber Spruce,” Shining Armor sighed “I knew him he was courting my sister.”

“Oh?” Flash knelt by the corpse inspecting it top to bottom. The man was younger than himself if he were to guess by three years or so. He wasn’t young enough to look childish but still not enough to look a man completely grown. Timber wore dark maroon trousers with black shoes a tanned frock coat, a similarly tanned waistcoat and white shirt. Flash stood and looked to the bodies position.

“At what time did the witness find the body?” Flash began slowly circling the Timber, Mac on the other hand searched the surrounding area.

“The worker who found him, goes by Bulk Biceps he said he was gone perhaps ten minutes when he noticed the lights of the factory were on when they weren’t supposed to be. So, he walked back and on arrival he found Timber already laying dead on the floor.” Shining pocketed his hands and took a step back. Flash nodded and looked towards the blood there was bloody shoe print with what looked like skids just left of the dry blood pool. Shining seemed to notice his gaze, “that was done by mister Biceps, it was too dark to see the blood when he was inspecting the body and he stepped on it.”

“I’ll speak with him if you still have him in custody later.” Flash muttered while looking closely how the body was position. One hand was neatly beside him the other was forming a fist above his stomach. Flash cocked his head to the side looked around, Mac was by the wall crouched down moving snow aside. “Where is his hat?” Flash shrugged.

“His hat?” Shining raised a brow at him.

“You knew Mister Spruce well?” Flash gestured to the body.

“Somewhat, he spent most of his time at the manor with Twilight.” Flash shrugged.

“I assume Mister Spruce was a gentleman, if his clothes are anything to go by he would not be caught outside without a proper hat. Do you have it?” Flash looked to Shining.

“No, its not in the surrounding area either I would think the wind took it to the Themes.” Shining turned to the river a good seven meters from the factory. Connected to the factory was another large building, it stretched far out to a dock nearby. “I highly doubt the hat was blown clean off and, in the meantime, when Mister Biceps found an officer that the hat would have gone that far.” Flash held his chin and looked to the body stepping to the right. Flash knelt and reached into his coat. He produced a pair of black leather gloves and donned them. He opened Timbers coat and reached into the right pocket, coming up empty he searched the left to the same effect. Then he checked his trouser pockets empty as well.

“What was Mister Spruce position in the factory?” Flash assumed it high to wear clothes this fine and not be covered in soot.

“Factory manager he was in charge of closing.” Shining knelt on the other side careful to avoid the blood.

“A manager with no key, have you searched inside?”

“Yes, though we haven’t found anything. Lots of places to look really, but we haven’t found anything out of the ordinary.” Shining reached into his pocket and produced a key. “A man working for Duke Tirek arrived about an hour ago with this key and is inside.”

“Hmm, I’ll take a look inside next.” Flash looked to the fist on Timbers body. With some effort Flash was able to unclench the hand to have something drop from it. A gold locket with exquisite carvings of vines on it, even a factory manager would be hard press to buy this. Flash opened the locket to the picture of a beautiful lady inside. His eyes focused on her beautiful smile straight hair kept down despite current hair fashion. Bangs above her forehead framed her face with a disarming kind look in her eyes.

“My sister gave that to him, for his birthday last year I believe.” Shining closed his eyes sighing and reached into his coat to produce a similar silver locket. “She knows I’m not fond of gold, so she got me a silver one.”

“She might want this back I suppose,” Flash handed the locket to Shining, he stored it with his own in his coat. Flash stood back up and dusted himself off. “Mac find anything?” Flash turned to locate his partner.

“Ayep,” Mac knelt by a pile of snow and picked out a metal rod. He walked back to them looking over the rod.

“That must be the broken railing.” Shining pointed up at the balcony above them, Flash looked up and noticed a missing bar in the far north rail. “Maybe not suicide but an accident.” Flash thought out loud.

“Mister Biceps was clear that Timber was ready to lock up when he left, why was he inside again?” Shining countered while he took the rod from Mac. Flash looked the rod over with a squinted gaze at one end.

“Rust,” Flash signaled for the rod and Shining obliged him. “The other end two it’s rusted.” Flash looked back up at the balcony, it was clear he would need to head inside to investigate further.

“We need to head inside, good find Mac.” Flash tipped his hat at his partner and moved to the factory’s front door.

“Ayep,” Mac shrugged and followed Flash and Shining. Once inside the factory was huge, with the machinery at either side of the left and right walls. The machines formed path to the storehouse at the far side of the factory. In the middle of that path was a gentleman Flash had never met speaking with some officers. He had black slicked back hair, blue eyes and wore the expression of a man of status. He wore a dark grey double-breasted waistcoat with a gold chain, a black frock coat and dark grey trousers. The man as well wore white silk gloves, and a black top hat with a red band around it.

“Inspector Flash, Mister Macintosh this is Mister Filthy Rich, he works for Duke Tirek as a division head for Tirek Firearms.” Shining stood next to Filthy Rich gesturing to him.

“Mister Rich will do just fine,” the man reached out his hand and Flash shook it as did Mac. Though Flash had to hold back a grin as Mac’s stronger grip made the man flinch slightly.

“Mister Rich this is Inspector Flash, he’s the expert I said I would call in.” Shining looked towards Flash with a glint in his eye.

“Yes, I was expecting someone from your department Sergeant.” Rich looked pointedly at Shining. That looked given to Shining made something dawn on Flash. If the expert called in was from the police department that meant they could coax him to call this a suicide and close the book on the case.

“Well Mister Filthy Rich I assure you despite being an outsider I am an accomplished inspector.” Flash gestured towards Mac. “My partner here as well has helped me solve more cases than I dare to count.”

“Yes, please Mister Rich will do, now I hope you looked over the scene quickly and we can put this behind us. I am here on behalf of Duke Tirek to get this factory back into production.” Rich waved at the dormant machinery. “I do not wish to keep the fine workers outside waiting any longer.”

“Of course, Mister Filthy Rich I just need to do a final inspection of the inside and make sure everything is in order.” Flash bowed and tipped his hat at Rich.

“Please Inspector Mister Rich will suffice, I shall leave you to your investigation and hope it is concluded in a timely fashion.” Rich inclined his head to the three men, “I will be in the second-floor office if you require anything else, now if you excuse me gentlemen.” Rich side stepped the three men and left them to their devices.

“You might have wounded his pride there.” Shining grinned at Flash.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Flash chuckled and moved to begin his inspection. Mac decidedly went to the second floor office and look through there. Shining and Flash both searched the first floor all the way to the storehouse at the back. Flash looked around the area between the storehouse and the factory. Two huge doors on rails were open connecting the two buildings. Flash turned and walked back looking left right between the machinery. He saw a set of stairs leading to a hanging walkway. Walking to the stairs he climbed two steps before stopping. Curious he looked over the left rail and found nothing, then over the right to find something hidden in the shadows of a machine. Kneeling Flash reached between the bars and clutched something soft but firm. He pulled back a top hat and Flash smiled, things were getting interesting. He walked up the stairs down the hanging walkway. He made a left turn to the offices, Mac and Rich were there with some officers. Flash lifted the top hat for everyone to see.

“Where was it?” Mac walked up to flash taking the hat from his hand.

“By the stairs near the storehouse.” Flash walked pass Mac, while Mac turned the hat over and felt inside in the hems near the stitching seeing if something was tucked inside. Flash on the other hand went past a flabbergasted Rich to the left doorway. Walking onto the hanging walkway Flash pondered why the hat was were it was. Making it to the balcony Flash inspected the railings. They were old and if he leaned on them they groaned he went so far as to kick them but not one of them budge. He moved to the broken railing where Timber had fallen. Flash knelt and inspected the points of contact where the bar had been snapped off. The area was jagged where it was once welded. Flash stood and took a few steps back, with a jump with all his weight he delivered a swift kick at the railing next to the broken one. The metal groaned in protest, but it did not snap. Flash fell flat on his back his top hat rolling away from him and dropping down below.

“Inspector are you alright?” an officer shouted from below. Flash stood dusting himself off and and assured the onlookers he was fine. He was more than fine really, he was excited he might have cracked the cause of death. Quickly he returned to the walkway, ahead just by the office doorway Rich and Mac were looking in his direction. Flash figure they had heard him fall flat on his back. The way from the office and the balcony wasn’t a terribly long distance really.

“you okay?” Mac raised a curious brow.

“Oh, better than okay my friend, go find Shining if you please. Meet me outside by Timbers body, you might want to join me as well Mister Filthy Rich I believe this was no mere accident nor was it suicide.” Flash walked passed Rich who quickly paled visibly at his words. Flash went outside and after a few moments Rich, Mac and, Shining all gathered by Timbers body.

“Gentlemen, this was no accident or suicide for that matter. We have a murder in our hands and a murderer running loose in London.” Flash knelt by the body and moved timbers hand from his chest. Flash instnatly noticed something he missed before. A semi ring of dirt above the waistcoat on Timbers white shirt. “Timber was murdered, in fact with the witness statement it makes sense if you think about it.” Flash put his hand out. “Big Mac let me borrow your foot, will you?”

“Okay,” Mac shrugged and lifted his foot hovering over Timbers chest. Slowly Flash moved the foot over the chest and lined up as best he could where the tip of Macs shoe was just over Timbers Waistcoat.

“A shoe print.” Shining’s eyes widen, and his mouth formed an ‘o.’

“You can’t possibly be saying what I think your saying Inspector.” Rich put a hand to his chest taking a step back.

“If you gentlemen heard from the office a loud clank, that was me. I took a few steps back and kicked the railing next to this one with all my might. I barely shook the dirt off it, the railing next to it was not anymore or any less exposed to the elements. So, it could not possibly be any less rusted then our broken railing. No Mister Spruce could not have fallen or even snapped the railing with his weight. A man of considerable strength kicked him and broke the railing with sheer force.” Standing up Flash stood between the body and the balcony above.

“In fact, the impact was so great, the fall is at least a foot away from the balcony, had he fallen he would have been just beneath it.” The officers gathered around began whispering while another handed Flash his top hat.

“The lights at night.” Mac smiled at Flash.

“Yes, someone was inside the factory that wasn’t meant to be, Mister Spruce surely entered because our intruder must have made a sound. Then there’s the hat.” Flash held his chin in thought. “The intruder had great strength and he might have been armed…or maybe not even been alone. Mister Spruce ran and turned left.” Flash motioned with arm to his left. “The machinery is placed in a way to allow ample space to walk to and from the storehouse. Yet Mister Spruce turned left.” Flash snapped his fingers his face lighting up with a broad grin. “A gun, Mister Spruce went left to evade his attackers line of fire. Running up the stairs he lost his hat.” Flash paused, his mind going over the scenario there is a set of stairs to the left of the factory entrance it was connected to the office above. A short distance on a hanging walkway and Timber could have made it down.

“Shining do you know how long Mister Spruce worked in the factory?” Flash pointed at his friend.

Shining frowned scratching his chin. “I would say about a year or two. Though this is from my sister not that he ever told me directly.” Shining gave a one arm shrug.

“Two years or one is still enough for him to know this place like his own home. Mister Spruce ran right then to the office. Why would he run to the balcony?” Flash closed his eyes imagining himself running through the factory a pursuer at his back. In his mind’s eye he entered the officer and made a b line straight for the right hanging walkway leading to the exit. He snapped his eyes open and slowly turned to the three men before him. “He wasn’t alone.” Flash muttered

“We already established that Inspector.” Rich arched a brow at Flash.

“No, the attacker was not alone, he chased Mister Spruce down, but when Mister Spruce made it to the office he tried to go right but someone headed him off. Not wanting to be trapped between two attackers he made left to the balcony.” Flash looked down to the body and felt his shoulder slack and his chest tighten.

“He moved to the far end of the balcony, his attackers cornered him there.” Flash remembered the locket in his grip.

“But they didn’t kill him right away, they didn’t shoot him to give away their crime.” Flash imagined two attackers arguing about how to deal with him. In that moment he thought up of bring out the locket in his coat pocket.

“They let him get his locket?” Mac looked up at the balcony.

“I assumed the attackers were arguing among themselves, and in the that time Mister Spruce grabbed the locket.” Flash began to pace in place, he thought how the attackers in the heat of the moment would have shot or attack Mister Spruce. Flash looked to the body the clothes did not look ruffled, no signs of him having to struggle against someone. “Only one of the attackers was there, more than that this attacker was calm. He knew what he was doing this wasn’t some petty scared thief.” Flash walked off slightly back to the street. The others joined to stand by him, while Flash contemplated the evidence.

“You said Mister Rich let you in didn’t you Shining?” Flash looked towards his friend.

“Yes, he gave me the spare key to use why?” Shining lifted a curious brow.

“You couldn’t find the keys, and the keys weren’t on Mister Spruce. Who locked the doors afterward? Better yet I assume the lights were turned off, again weren’t they?” Flash looked to Shining.

“Yes, Mister Biceps said as much” Shining nodded.

“Well I believe I have a composite set of events, Mister Spruce was locking up for the end of the day.” Flash began walking back towards the factory. The three other men followed him quietly listening. “Mister Spruce came inside the factory turned the lights on and searched for the disturbance.” Flash entered the factory with the three men in tow and he briskly walked towards the storehouse. “Here, right here is where the chase began Mister Spruce spotted his would-be attackers in the storehouse. They spotted him and gave chase. One headed him off on the stairs near the entrance. The other gave chase and it culminated at the balcony.” Flash traced what he believed to be Timbers footsteps up the stairs behind the first machine to the left. Down the walkway into the office, a turn to the right then back left. Finally, he made it to the balcony standing near the broken rail. “Yes, Mister Spruce was murdered in this spot after a man of immense strength kicked him through the railing.” Flash felt a surge of pride fill his chest. He figured out the cause of death, now came the hard parts. Motives and perpetrator, a length investigation would have to take place.

“Is the storehouse manifesto in the factory?” Mac turned to Mister Rich.

“Yes, I believe so.” Mister Rich looked on dejected probably thinking what Duke Tirek would say.

“Good call Mac, well gentlemen I believe we have kept the factory from its purpose long enough. Shining I would ask you to have the body examined before its burial. Mac I would like you to look at the manifesto.” Flash removed his gloves storing them inside his coat.

“What about you?” Shining turned to flash.

“I need to ask questions, investigate Mister Spruce’s relations so I will head to your home and speak with your sister. What is her name if I may ask?” Flash checked his pocket watch calculating the time it would take to talk to Shining’s sister and perhaps any leads he might gain from her.

“Twilight Sparkle, she should be home right now. I have already had her informed of the situation. Please be gentle with her friend, I have no doubt she is very upset.” Shining placed a hand over his heart where he kept his sister’s locket.

“I will, now then we all have tasks to preform gentlemen.” Flash straighten his coat stepping up to Shining. “Can I borrow Officer Silver Star from you again Shining?” Flash gestures below to the officer in question.

“I can have him take you to my home, but I need him back for patrol, you’ll need to get your own ride from there.” Shining stepped aside to let Flash through.

“Thank you, my friend, now then, miss Sparkle awaits.” On November 23, 1870 Inspector Flash Sentry took the case of a life time.

Author's Note

Woo hoo! First chapter officially starting the story! next we get to meet Twilight. Her character is something I have been thinking off. She can be very confident yet dorky, and is more than capable of speaking her mind. In a victorian setting with Queen Celestia heading a whole empire I believe I can see twilight as a very intelligent and independent woman. I can’t wait to write her!

Anyway just wrote this note to take the time to thank you all who have shown support in this little endeavor and I hope I can entertain you further still. More characters will make apperances and I hope you like their Victorian interpretations!