Cristal Blanc: Murder in Manehattan

Chapters

I: Coffee at Café D'amour
II: Parler at the Police Station
III: And La Preuve Points To...

I: Coffee at Café D'amour

It was six o'clock in the morning in the city of Manehattan. It's said that this city never sleeps, and I'm beginning to think that it's true. The sun was barely rising, but the traffic in the streets was already crazy.

I was sitting in a booth in Café D'amour, the only artisanal Prench coffeehouse in Manehattan, staring out the window and in the café. As a private detective, it's a habit for me to observe everything; even the smallest detail can turn the tables in a case.

The café was nearly empty, although it wouldn't be for long. The morning rush would be coming in about a half-hour. Currently, there was three customers in the café, excluding myself, and a pony working at the counter.

Two ponies sat together at a table across the café, obviously in love. One was a navy stallion with a dark orange mane. He wore a trench coat and fedora, which obscured most of his features, including his cutie mark. He was a pony that didn't want to be identified. His friend, however, didn't share that feeling. She was a bright pink Pegasus with a rainbow sherbet-colored mane. Around her neck hung a blue opal necklace, and her cutie mark was a basket full of gems. She was a rich pony, probably spoiled. The stallion was most likely deeply in love, and the feeling was reciprocated by the mare, but the mare's family probably disapproved of him, causing them to have to date in secret.

The third pony was a Unicorn. He was old and had a grey coat, although he had nearly no hair. He wore a tweed jacket and read the Manehattan Monologue, the city's newspaper, through thick black glasses. His cutie mark was obscured by the numerous chairs between my eyes and his flank. However, I could tell that he was a pleasant man, with more than a few cats at home.

The pony at the counter was a teenage mare with a green coat and black hair. She wore her eyeliner thick and had several piercings. This was a part-time job for her, and she hated every second of it.

I took a sip of my coffee. It was bitter, but with sweet notes, and very creamy. The steam condensed on my muzzle as I sipped it, making it cold, despite the heat coming off the beverage.

The door to the café swung open, the bell above it jingling like mad. A cyan Earthpony walked in. She wore a pine-colored windbreaker jacket and held her lavender hair back with a yellow headband. She looked around the café, her face brightening up when she spotted me. I brushed the loose hairs from my mane out of my face as she approached.

She took a seat in the booth seat across from me. She seemed like a pony that didn't waste time, always doing something. She only supported that theory when she began talking to me. Her words poured out of her mouth almost faster than I could comprehend them.

"Hey! I'm Bubble Runner. I heard you were a good private detective, and I've got something for you to investigate. You dig?"

I thought for a minute, taking in the mare in front of me. "What kind of case?"

"Somepony I know's been murdered, even though the police say it was a suicide. I don't believe 'em, since I've known Sunny Side since high school, and she never once acted depressed in the ten years since then. I'm gonna hire you, and you're going to prove 'em wrong. Deal?"

Despite myself, I felt a sense of intrigue. I had never solved a murder in Prance, and it had always been one of my dreams to do so. That's how I found myself saying, "When do you want me to start?"

The apartment in which Bubble Runner said Sunny Side lived in was an old brick building. Police tape surrounded the entrance. Cop cars were parked at various angles in the street, and police personnel scurried about. Showing an officer my badge, I ducked below the police tape and entered the building.

The halls were narrow. The floorboards creaked with every step I took, and the greasy wallpaper peeled away in the corners. Dust danced in the air, backlit by the solitary window at the end of the hall. Sunny Side's apartment, room 312, was at the end of the hall. Officers stood by the door, guarding the room. I entered, immediately moving towards the head detective.

"Bonjour," I said, showing him my badge. "Cristal Blanc, Private Detective. Might I ask your name?"

"Detective Carl Lass. I don't remember hiring a private detective, so why are you here?"

I already disliked the detective, and I had just met him.

"A friend of the victim is convinced that this was more than a suicide. Do you mind if I look at the body?"

"Yes, in fact, I do." The detective made the mistake of turning around and ignoring me. I crept over to the body of Sunny Side, beginning my detective work.

The Earthpony laid on the floor on her back. One arm was laid on her stomach, and the other stretched right past her head. Her yellow coat was stained red on her neck and the top of her chest, and a puddle of blood had formed on the floor between her head and shoulder. A generic kitchen knife was stuck at an awkward angle in her jugular vein. A trail of blood ran down the side of her face, beginning at the corner of her mouth closest to the floor. Her eyes were wide open, and she was staring directly at the window, which was open.

"What did I tell you about checking out the body?" Detective Lass said, coming up behind me. I couldn't help but smile at his feeble attempt to stop me.

"This was not a suicide, Detective," I said definitively.

"And just how do you know this?" the detective said, impatiently tapping his left forehoof.

"Look at the angle the knife is at. That is a very hard angle to stab yourself with. Unless she was double jointed. Was she?" I began, spinning towards the detective.

I managed to catch him off guard. "Uh... no. She wasn't."

"Well then! Notice how her eyes happen to be staring at the open window. It's said that the brain stays alive for a few seconds once you've been killed. What if our dear Sunny Side was giving us a clue as to how our murderer escaped?"

"You don't have any scientific proof to that claim."

"I'm simply using all of my resources." I walked toward the window. "Have you dusted this for hoofprints?"

"Not yet, no."

"Well, don't bother. You won't find any. Our murderer wore gloves, as to conceal their escape. However, they are obviously a hefty horse, as you can see by the stress on the window ledge."

"This complex is old. Anybody could put stress on the pane."

"Well, they'd have to be large to leave this behind!"

I pulled a pair of tweezers out of my front coat pocket, followed by a little plastic bag. With practiced caution, I pulled the single hair that had been caught on the window's handle and placed it in the bag. It was thin, long, and yellow.

"You can't take that! That's withholding evidence from the authorities!" Detective Lass shouted, walking over to snatch my hair. I skillfully kept it out of his reach; Unicorn magic is helpful that way.

"How about a truce?" I said. "I get any and all of the information you have and find, and I help you prove that this was not a suicide."

Detective Lass looked torn. "Lemme guess, if I don't say yes, you're going to keep that hair from me, huh?"

"Mm-hm."

"I could arrest you for that, you know."

"Oh, I've only been in Equestria for a few weeks. I still haven't had time to check out the laws here." I made a mockingly innocent face.

The detective sighed. "Fine. Give me the hair, and I'll get it analyzed at the lab. Come by tomorrow for the results and the rest of the information on this case."

"Thank you." I said, walking up and giving him the hair. I then left the apartment, heading outside.

Once I exited the building, I looked straight in the direction of the window that I found the hair on. There was no evidence that any rope had been tied there. So, either I was dealing with a crazy Earthpony that jumped from fourth story windows, or, more likely, a Pegasus, or even a Unicorn. Noting everything I'd seen, I began walking toward my own apartment, getting ready to think up some hypotheses.

II: Parler at the Police Station

The police station was only three blocks away from Café D'amour, but in the crazy city of Manehattan, walking there was not an option. It would take as much time to walk that distance as it would to walk three miles. I hailed a taxi and prepared myself for the meeting with the detective ahead of me.

The police station was fairly new, and I expected as much. I did a little research about the station and its ponies, as all good detectives should do, and learned that the it had been a victim of arson a few years ago. It was rebuilt bigger and better, standing as the station I looked upon then.

I pushed the large metal doors open, entering a beige-brick hall that led to a larger room, where the personnel's desks were. It didn't take me long to find Detective Lass; I simply had to follow the sound of shouting.

The steely grey-coated detective stood on a crate, as to be taller than the officers he was addressing. He was yelling orders, pointing to various ponies as he gave them. Before long, he told everyone to move out, and jumped off the crate to join them. I stepped in front of him, causing Detective Lass to roll his eyes and scowl.

"Well, if it isn't Miss Murder." His voice dripped with a faint venom.

"No, my name is Cristal Blanc." This got me another look, more dangerous than the first, but I felt proud of hitting one of his nerves. I didn't like the detective very much. "You told me to come here for the information on my case."

"Right." Detective Lass pointed to a hall behind him. "Go talk to our lab guy. I've got a copy of all the papers you'll need on my desk. Don't touch anything else."

He walked around me, making an effort to bump into my shoulder as he did it. I walked over to the detective's desk, seeing a frighteningly short stack of documents. It contained Sunny Side's police file, her medical records, and the report and pictures on the crime scene. I was almost positive that the detective wasn't giving me everything they had, but I was a stubborn mare, and a dedicated detective. Lack of information wouldn't shake me.

I slipped the documents into the special pocket on the inside of my jacket dedicated for evidence. After taking note of the cat picture peeking out from under a separate pile of papers on the desk, I began my little walk to the crime lab.

The lab was rather small, but they made the most of the limited space. Tables were covered with beakers and chemicals, lab reports and computers, evidence bags and rubber gloves. I carefully crept through the chaos, looking for a pony anywhere in the room.

The door to the lab swung open. I turned around quickly, wanting to see if it was the analysist. I was taken aback when I didn't see anypony come through the door.

I cautiously walked up to the door, readying myself for whatever might happen by taking out the pepper spray that I keep in my coat. Holding the can at eye level, I peeked around the final table--

"Why, hello there, ma'am! What can I help you with?"

I yelped and accidentally pressed down on the pepper spray. A cloud came forth from the can. I regained my composure and stopped spraying, but I still didn't see anypony. "Bonjour?"

"Oh, I took Prench in high school! Um... let's see... je suis ici!"

I looked down to see a little green Pegasus stallion smiling and waving at me. His white and yellow mane was crazed, as if he had been struck by lightning. His cutie mark was concealed by his long lab coat, which had various notes and used gloves sticking out from its many pockets.

"En quoi puis-je vous aider?" The stallion asked politely. He didn't seem the least bit fazed that I spoke Prench, or that there was a random pony walking around in his lab.

"Don't worry, I can speak Equestrian just fine," I said, smiling when the analysist wiped a hoof across his forehead. "My name is Cristal Blanc--"

"Oh, I know you! Well, not really, but Detective Lass came in here with the hair and began ranting all about you! I didn't know he could talk that much until he went off on you!" The stallion laughed at the memory.

I couldn't hide the amusement that bubbled up inside me. I playfully raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

"Oh yeah!" The analysist threw his hooves in the air as he continued. "He was all like, 'She's so egotistical' and 'She thinks she's so smart' and 'Thinks she's above the law just 'cause she's new'! I secretly think he likes you, since he never talks that much about anypony. Not even himself."

"Well, I wish I could say I was flattered, but I rather dislike the detective." I looked around the disorganized lab again. "Do you have the results on the hair, Monsieur?"

"Of course I do!" As the Pegasus flew around the lab, he added, "My name is Dr. Bang, but you can call me Bang. Or The Bang, if you really want."

I smothered a giggle as the analysist came back to me with the report document. "I don't wanna burst your bubble, but there was no follicle on the hair, so I can't tell who's it was."

I mentally scolded myself. A detective forgetting to look for a follicle on a hair is like a chef not caring whether they use salt or sugar in a recipe. It doesn't happen often, and when it does, it's a complete embarrassment. "Was there anything to find out about the hair?" I asked.

"Why, yes there was!" Bang said. "The hair was not naturally yellow! It had been dyed!"

"What was the original color?"

"Purple!" he cried, shoving an evidence bag in my face. Sure enough, the hair inside was a light shade of purple, not the screaming yellow it had been yesterday.

"Thank you," I said, carefully pushing the bag from my face. "Was there anything else?"

"Um, yes, one more thing," Bang said, skimming over the report. "The pony who had this hair had a common gene that causes hair to grow thin."

"Common gene..." I pondered aloud. I had been hoping for something that would narrow my suspect list down a little more, but this would have to do. "Once again, thank you for your help, Bang."

"No prob, Miss Blanc!" He said happily, handing me a copy of the hair's report. "J'espère vous revoir bientôt!"

"Moi aussi!" I said. Just before I left the lab, I turned around. "You can call me Cristal."

Author's Note

Translation Notes

Café D'amour (Paragraph 1)- Love Coffee
Bonjour (Paragraph 14)- Hello [or Good Morning, but Hello was used in the story]
Je suis ici! (Paragraph 15)- I'm down here!
En quoi puis-je vous aider? (Paragraph 17)- What can I help you with?
Monsieur (Paragraph 22)- Mister [Mr.]
J'espère vous revoir bientôt! (Paragraph 32)- I hope I see you again soon!
Moi aussi! (Paragraph 33)- Me too!

III: And La Preuve Points To...

I sat in my favorite chair, behind my only desk, in my Manehattan apartment. Midnight was approaching. I looked through the large stack of police papers that served to provide evidence for my suspects (which I was only able to acquire after pestering Detective Lass for twenty minutes). Every pony with purple hair that lived in Manehattan had a paper in this stack, and I was having un foin2 of a time going through them.

I eventually came across a familiar name: Bubble Runner. The mare who hired me for this case. As I skimmed through the paper, thinking that she, most likely, wasn't the culprit, something in the "Major Medical Ailments" section caught my eye:

Multiple personality disorder.

My brain began to think before I even really comprehended the information.

Multiple personality disorder causes the pony that has it to have two or more distinguished personalities inside of them, each their own separate pony. Not only that, but Bubble Runner's mane is purple...

What if Bubble Runner was the culprit?

While the personality that had hired me seemed to like Sunny Side, what if she had another personality that absolutely loathed her? Hated Sunny enough to kill her?

But that couldn't be it! When Bubble Runner came in to hire me, her mane was purple! Not the bright yellow found at the crime scene!

However, Manehattan was a city of many wonders, and I wouldn't be surprised if she could have gotten her dye stripped...

But she's also and Earthpony! What Earthpony escapes from a murder by jumping down from the fourth floor?

This could be solved with the multiple personalities. If she had a murderous mind in her head, why not a daredevil as well?

Everything fit together in my head:

Bubble Runner's murderer inside of her had had enough of Sunny Side. After dyeing her mane to protect her identity from the police, she went to Sunny's apartment, pretending to be the friendly personality. Bubble stabbed Sunny when she first got the chance. Looking for an escape, she jumped to the windowsill, only to be overcome by another personality. Thankfully for Bubble Runner, that was the adventurous, unafraid personality, and after seeing the challenge before her, she happily jumped off the ledge and onto the street below. Only suffering from minor injuries, she limped home and went to bed. Upon waking up, she was once again the friendly Bubble. Once she saw her mane, she hated it, and called a friend in a salon to help her. While she was getting the dye stripped, the police called to say that Sunny was dead, and feeling extreme grief and anger at the police for thinking it was a suicide, came to hire me.

I trusted this theory enough to call Detective Lass immediately.

I rang his police phone, which he actually picked up. At this hour, I thought it would be the night guard.

"Detective Lass, who is this?"

"Detective Blanc. I think I have the culprit to our little murder case."

"Sorry, Miss Murder, but I'm busy. We just got a call about an actual murder a few minutes ago. So, if you'll excuse me--"

"Who's the victim? These cases could be related."

"Please. Manehattan's a big city. There's almost no chance of the cases--"

"Would you just tell me who the victim is?"

Silence. Then, "Fine. A mare named Bubble Runner. Now, can I--"

"I'll be right there." I stated before hanging up on the detective.

"Oh mon3," I said, gazing at the scene in front of me.

Bubble Runner also lived in an apartment, like Sunny, but it was a very new and expensive one. It was built of white bricks and had seven stories. The windows were huge. One window, on the seventh floor, was open, with translucent curtains blowing into the night. I figured that was Bubble Runner's apartment, so I made my way up there as fast as I could.

The door to the apartment was open wide, and I walked into a chic room with many stylish furnishings and plants. I scanned the room, looking for a body, but I didn't see one.

I saw the detective at the other end of the apartment and ran to him. "Where's the body?"

"In the kitchen, over there," he said, pointing to an adjoining room. I galloped in, not wasting a second.

Upon entering, I immediately saw a dead Bubble Runner lying on the tile. Beginning my work, I examined the body.

Bubble was on her stomach, her legs flailed out around her. In the middle of her back was a long metal pole, which I realized was the curtain rod after looking at the kitchen window, with its curtains on the floor below it. The police had already traced the body, so after I put on some gloves, I didn't hesitate to flip it over. The pole stuck out a little through her stomach, and a puddle of blood remained where it had previously been lying. I noticed some mild bruising on her chin and underside, suggesting she had been forcefully pushed to the tile before being impaled by the rod.

"Bon sang4," I muttered. "This just keeps getting better and better..."

Author's Note

Translation Notes
(I decided to begin adding superscripts by the Prench/French to help you all with translating.)

La Preuve (Chapter title)- The Evidence
un foin (Paragraph 1)- one hay
Oh mon (Paragraph 24)- Oh my
Bon sang (Paragraph 31)- *explicit language*