Silent Graves

Pry rang the doorbell and stepped back. He and his guard escort had come to the manor of Rotten Tomato to see if there was any chance they could pick up the trail. It was cold at this point, but perhaps they could find something, anything, to lead them in the right direction.

"What is it?"

Pry leaned down to the intercom. "I'm a private investigator, and I've been hired to find the killer of Ms. Gleaming Star. I'd like to ask a few questions."

There was a pause on the other end. "The boss says you need a warrant, or you need to come back with the guard. You're not allowed in."

"I am with a guard," argued Pry.

"Badge number two two eight seven," confirmed the guard. "I've been assigned to help with his investigation in the interest of public safety."

There was another pause. "I'm sending up my aide, he will escort you around the grounds and house. If you step out of line, he will not hesitate to throw you out."

A moment later, a bulky-looking security guard walked up and opened the gate. "I'm being told to make this quick," he said, ushering them inside. "Let me make this perfectly clear; nopony within these walls wants to dig up this horrible tragedy. You will keep your questions short and to the point, and any questions they don't want to answer, they don't have to."

"As you wish," conceded Pry. "Lead us to our nearest staff member. You want this quick, so let's spend as little commute time as possible."

They made their way around the inside of the manor, talking to all of the staff members in turn. The maids, the kitchen staff, and the butlers all seemed to be in agreement. She was alive when they left for the night, and she was dead when they came back. The head butler had the additional information that he had packed her bags just before he left, and he was the last one to see her alive. With everypony in the house now fully questioned, it was time to talk to the gardener, who was conveniently out by the shed where the body was discovered.

On approaching, the three of them heard shouting coming from within the shed. The security guard rushed forward and threw open the doors to see Rotten and the gardener about to come to blows. The presence of an audience, especially one so armed as a city guard and a security guard, caused them to step away from each other.

"Officer," growled Rotten, pointing at his gardener. "I present to you the pony responsible for killing my wife, rest her soul. I demand you take him into custody at once!"

With a nod, the guard stepped forward and took the gardener by the shoulder, leading him out of the shed. As he walked by Pry, he tripped on a clay pot. As Pry helped him back up, the gardener whispered in his ear, "Top drawer, under the wrenches."

With no visible change in perspective, Pry watched as the guard and security guard escorted the gardener outside. When they were clear, he turned to Rotten. "I would guess that your argument was concerning the fact that you found out about his killing your beloved?"

"That's right. When I found out, I came out to confront him about it. I'm lucky you were here, or he might have killed me, too."

"How did you find out, and why didn't you call the guard?"

"One of my staff told me he was bragging about it, just a few minutes ago."

"And what is the name of this staff member? We'd like to ask them for more details."

"Oh, that won't be necessary," chuckled Rotten nervously. "They're trustworthy, I know for certain."

Pry looked around. "This was the scene of the murder, correct?"

"It is. We were leaving for the night to have the exterminator deal with the bug problem. She must have come out here to check on her peonies, and that's when he killed her. I left earlier."

"Do you mind if I look around?"

"For what? I just told you how it happened."

"I want to know if he stashed the murder weapon nearby."

"He choked her with her scarf and then blew up her stomach with this air compressor." Rotten indicated a portable air compressor in the corner.

"Are you certain?" Pry walked over to the toolbox and opened one of the drawers. "Granted, that would line up, but then why didn't he try to move the body?"

"He had to hurry out. The exterminator was coming."

"Right. And did the exterminator come that night?"

"No, he was out of town. I had to reschedule. He came by two days ago. My late wife's peonies are just fine, thanks to him."

Pry pulled open the top drawer and shifted the wrenches aside. There was a photograph underneath it depicting Rotten dragging his wife's unexploded body out to the shed, and three more depicting him exploding the body with the compressor. He turned them around. "I think I've seen all I need to."

"You can't take those!" shouted Rotten, moving between Pry and the door. "That's my private property!"

"Pretty sure it was your gardener's, and he just decided to hand it in to the city guard." Pry stuffed them into one of his many pockets.

Rotten picked up a pipe from the irrigation system. "You're going to hand those over, and you're going to forget you ever saw them," he growled. "Put them down, or you don't leave here alive."

"Sir, please, be reasonable," pleaded Pry, taking a step back. "I can't cover up a crime, I'm a detective. We do the exact opposite of that."

Without another word, Rotten began swinging the pipe wildly. Pry was able to duck out of the first two swings, but the third broke his left front leg. As he saw the blunt instrument ready to swing again, he closed his eyes, unable to back up any further, and unable to pick up a weapon of any kind to defend himself.

"Rotten Tomato, you're under arrest for the assault and battery of Prying Eyes."

Pry opened his eyes and saw the guard that was escorting him holding back Rotten's wrist, applying hoof cuffs. "And also for the murder of Gleaming Star," he added, standing up. "I have the evidence with me."