Capriccio - A Detective Story

Chapters

Poof Matcher's Tale
Vinyl Scratch's Tale
Roof Thatcher's Tale
Pizza Margherita's Tale
Noble Declaration's Tale
Tomato and Mint's Tales
Archduke and Archduchess' Tales
Branded's Tale
Octavia Melody's Tale
The Invitation

Poof Matcher's Tale

Poof Matcher sighed and took a sip from his teacup. He had no idea why he was at this party. He was called from his studies to be here, and for what? To meet his parents' friends? Those idiots barely care anyways. Poof was lounging on a couch in the middle of the living room, around him were those 'friends' fraternizing with each other, each holding a secret agenda, some hidden reason as to why they actually accepted the invitation. Poof couldn't care less.

Perhaps the only thing that was worth his attention this night was the musician his father hired. She was quite the refined mare, a light gray earth pony who played the cello standing up on her hindlegs. The skill she possessed casted her into a certain light in Poof's eyes. He admired her, there, he said it. The way she danced her hooves on the instrument and the way she moved in and out with the cello looked like it was more of a dance number than a performer playing for an obnoxious crowd.

While Poof was mesmerized by this beauty of a mare, lightning crackled in the distance and before anypony could gasp, the lights turned off. There was a panicked shriek and the music stopped, but for the most part, it was just surprised gasps. He sipped his tea, it was chamomile, his favorite. There were some questions as to what was going on, but before a full blow panic could ensue, Poof's father spoke.

"Everypony, please calm down! This is completely normal. Whenever lightning strikes nearby the lights turn off. It will come back on soon enough." True to his word, the lights flickered on after a few seconds of silence. There was a sigh of relief.

One of his father's friends stood up with a peculiar expression. He rubbed a hoof around his chin and asked with a certain tone to it. Poof sipped some more tea, he was almost out. "So, you're saying that when lightning strikes nearby, the lights will always go out?"

"Yes, that's correct." His father replied before turning back to his mother, no doubt talking about expansion of the empire or whatever nonsense they called it these days. The music mare started playing again. Poof finished the last of his tea and proceeded to get up and trotted to the kitchen. Once there, he ignored a mare who seemed lost and poured himself another cup. The smell tickled his nostrils and Poof couldn't help but smile.

He made his way back to the couch, dodging a skinny stallion, and sat down. He watched the mysterious earth pony work her magic with an almost fervent zeal. He almost didn't notice the lightning strike, casting the house in pitch black once again. This time, the ponies were warned and didn't panic as much. Poof attempted to take another sip before a shadowy figure stepped in front of him. He opened his mouth to protest, but then felt something wet.

Author's Note

I adore the name Poof Matcher, it makes no sense at all, nor is it plot relevant. It's just a funny name. What more do I need?

Vinyl Scratch's Tale

Vinyl Scratch, private investigator and Equestria's most famous DJ. Tonight, she was heading home from a successful bang at the club. She was a bit tipsy from hitting the bar a few too many times, but the white unicorn knows how to handle her liquor. It didn't take long before she stumbled into the doorway of the Investigative Bureau of Equestrian Crime, it's a work in progress, and collapsed on the well used couch. She was out before her head could find a comfortable position.

***

"Vinyl."

A hoof poked up from the couch and made a shooing motion.

"You're not a teenager anymore, Vinyl."

The hoof made an angry gesture.

"Yes, I understand that, Vinyl, but you're needed."

The hoof flipped to the side.

"Yes, Vinyl." There was a sigh.

The unicorn popped off the couch with a large grin, somehow her glasses fell off during the night. Another case, about time too. In the corner was Princess Celestia with an amused smile with a hint of impatience. No matter, Vinyl used her magic to grab a slice of pizza from the fridge and stuck it in her mouth and stood to attention.

"Masterfully done." Her boss said dryly. The relationship between the two has always been weird, maybe even sacrilegious from an outside viewer, but it works.

Vinyl chewed thoughtfully as she inspected the Princess's expression and tone. Sometimes she would play this little game, trying to figure out what the diarch would say before she would say it. After a split moment, she gave up and instead did a questioning shrug.

"It appears there was a murder at Thatcher Manor, miss Melody was playing there when it happened. She has called fro your assistance." Celestia said with all the practice of living a thousand years, but Vinyl could see the lips twitching upwards.

She decided to play along and raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, Vinyl. I know how it looks." There! Vinyl's ear twitched at a sudden but restrained noise in the back of Celestia's throat. She couldn't help but grin at that. "Oh, stop that Vinyl."

The unicorn in question just grinned even more and wiggled her eyebrows. The Princess just sighed before releasing an unrestrained giggle. Then before they knew it, the two were in hysterics. Vinyl was laughing so hard that her pizza slice flew to the other side of the room, nearly landing in the trash can.

"V...Vinyl, please..." Celestia wheezed out, her pristine white coat reddened. "Please, no more!"

There was a note of pleading and Vinyl decided that enough grief was caused towards Octavia Melody, Vinyl's partner in crime and crime busting. She calmed down enough and waited for her boss to recover, which she did remarkably fast.

"Right, miss Melody requires your presence and assistance. Whenever you need me, just write a letter. I'll help anyway I can, now if you'll excuse me." Vinyl nodded and stepped to the side, allowing for the diarch to get back to her duties.

Vinyl sighed silently and looked around for her slice. She gasped inaudibly to find it sticking to a wall and fell to her knees and cried out with genuine grief. The pizza slice never deserved this fate! Why, cruel world, must you ruin such a delicious slice.

***

Vinyl Scratch got off the train, a large grin on her face, her mane restyled, her glasses freshly reacquired, and her headphones placed squarely on her ears. Octavia Melody, her partner and equal, stood at the station wearing an unamused expression. Vinyl spread open her forelegs wide with a slight deviation to her smile.

"Yes Vinyl, it's good to see you to. Now come on, we've got work to do." The gray mare turned around on a dime and started trotting. Fast. The unicorn had to canter a little to catch up. The two walked together for a while before she started waving her left hoof in a complicated manner.

"Right, so I was playing music when lightning struck nearby, causing the lights to go out. When the lights came back on, there was poor Poof, dead on the carpet with a knife in his chest. Truly, he did not deserve such a death." Octavia finished her not so long tale with a sad shake of her head. Vinyl filed some of the clues away and then pointed out the obvious.

"Yes, his name is Poof. Poof Matcher in full." Octavia paused and saw the detective on the ground. "Oh, grow up Vinyl. He just died! Show some respect."

Vinyl heard some tension in her voice so with some incredible restraint, she wiped away the tears of mirth and forced her smile into more of a muted grimace. The unicorn nodded her head in an apologetic manner and motioned with her hoof for Octavia to continue.

"Thank you. I was playing there because Roof Thatcher and Pizza Margherita were hosting a party with their closest friends, and some friends they are, and they wanted a professional." The earth pony coughed when she said that and glanced at Vinyl. The unicorn in turn rolled her eyes, but her glasses hid that. "It was after dinner, when everypony was gossiping about the latest trends and whether or not Shining Armor was worthy to be a prince. Bullocks if you ask me." Octavia straightened her tie with a certain scowl she reserves for snobby socialites. "When lightning hit the first time and the lights went off, Thatcher calmed down everypony saying that this was normal. The lights will return after a few moments, and what he said was so. Lord Branded, I think that's his name, clarified in a curious tone that when lightning strikes, the lights turned off. Thatcher confirmed, and he hummed thoughtfully."

Vinyl shrugged and did a wiggle.

"Yes, he would be the most obvious suspect, wouldn't he? Anyway, after the second flash revealing dead Poof, Branded announced that it was the Butler. Thatcher and Margherita started yelling, other ponies started screaming and yelling. That was when I did my special note." Vinyl winced, knowing exactly how effective that was. Never mess around when Octavia has her cello nearby. "When everypony calmed down, I took charge. Called the royal guard and put them all on house arrest. Then I called Princess Celestia to fetch you."

Vinyl smirked slightly and told a story with her hooves. Then she broke down laughing in silence. The longer it went, the more flustered Octavia got.

"YES, I KNOW! The irony is not lost on me!" The gray mare huffed and stomped up the hill towards the house. Vinyl tried to keep up but couldn't because of how hard she was laughing.

***

"Alright, this is Detective Vinyl Scratch and I'm Detective Octavia Melody, we're here to solve the murder of your son, Poof Matcher." Through the help of the royal guards, they were able to round up everypony in a single room. This was where Vinyl was finally able to see what she was working with.

The ones Octavia called Thatcher and Margherita were an odd couple. Roof Thatcher looked like your average Pony Joe on his way to work. He had a boring brown coat, a simple darker brown mane and tail, and his cutie mark was thatching tools. Nothing about him screamed 'RICH' or 'SPECIAL.' It made Vinyl wonder how he got his fortune.

Pizza Margherita, the wife. Compared to her husband, Margherita was downright exotic. She was taller, had narrow and stern green eyes, a warm yellow coat complimented with a vibrant red mane and tail. Her cutie mark was a cheesy pizza slice adorned with a tomato slice. She kept her mane in a tight bun and spoke with an Itailanese accent.

Despite what the stories would lead you to believe about rich couples, these two seem as thick as thieves. Another curious story Vinyl couldn't help but wonder about. That as well as the fact that they don't seem all that sad about their son's untimely passing. Vinyl tapped a hoof on her chin.

"Yes yes, we know who you two are. Legendary musicians of Canterlot. But what I'm curious about, very curious, is that you claim to be detectives." A stallion in the back said haughtily. Vinyl immediately disliked him, he was everything Vinyl hated about the Canterlot elites. According to Octavia and some angry mumbles from Celestia, he was the crippled Duke Embezzle. The long lost son of Archduke Archduke and Archduchess Archduchess. Those three are scum of Equestria, playing on poor ponies and pulled no punches when they they catch a scent of money.

"Believe it or not, Embezzle."

"That's Duke to you."

Octavia sniffed. "Duke...Embezzle, and the rest of you, the two of us have been chosen by Princess Celestia herself. Would you think it wise to question that? I have a direct connection to her in case of emergencies, perhaps I should use it."

"Oh no no, let's not be hasty." Lord Branded. The more sensible of the bunch, although, not by much. He was also a nuisance to the diarchs, as he Co-owned the terrible but unfortunately, legitimate, CrystalInc.. The company collects crystals and sells them, Celestia thinks said 'crystals' are fakes, but she has no evidence to back it up. It also doesn't help that the other owner is none other than Duke Embezzle.

"Then let us do our jobs and investigate the murder of Poof Matcher." Octavia's left eyebrow was twitching. Vinyl took a step back, just in case.

"Alright, if that's what it takes for you to get off our backs. But I'm telling you! It was the butler! I saw him do it!" The poor stallion looked desperate, not quite enough for Vinyl to sympathize.

"We'll decide that, not you." Octavia snapped, already at her wits end. Vinyl grinned, she supposed spending the weekend with these bratty socialites would do that to you.

The unicorn made her hooves do some complex patterns, making sure that the heated earth pony saw. After some gestures, the mare calmed down.

"Right...Vinyl is right. If you could please come into the dining hall one by one, that way we can interrogate and question about the murder effectively." Octavia turned around and stalked off, leaving a grinning white mare. Vinyl surveyed the rest of the gathered ponies, taking in which hoof they favor, how tall they are, how their breathing sounds, their expressions, their overall stance. It's been a while since Vinyl has done a whodunnit and she was excited.

Author's Note

We've got a mystery on our hooves!

Roof Thatcher's Tale

Roof Thatcher trotted into the dining hall first. It was only proper if the host did his job and represented this household. This entire weekend has been one disaster after the other, first the dead body, and then his son...wait. Thatcher paused in the doorway and scratched his chin. The body was his son... He shrugged, probably isn't important.

"Mr. Thatcher, if you please." Detective Melody gestured to a trio of seats the two had somehow set up within that limited time frame. The stallion in question nodded and trotted over and sat down. He did all of this with an air of importance, after all, he was Roof Thatcher, legendary salespony.

The baffling unicorn, Detective Scratch, started waving her hooves around like a demented hare. That and the fact that she was wearing purple shades and headphones. Of all the things, it's those two! Thatcher wasn't sure if he was insulted or confused. He decided to feel impressed instead. Anymare with the gall to trapeze in his house without any thought to her appearance was alright in his book.

"Vinyl asks for you to recap your entire day, if you please." Ah, so that incessant waving must be some secret way of communicating. How odd. He smiled to himself, perhaps he'll play their game. He doesn't gain anything from hiding anything.

"But of course. Now..."

ooOOoo

Roof Thatcher awoke that day feeling refreshed and jubilant. His wife was still asleep, snoring like usual, so he left the bed with the utmost care. He tiptoed to the door and slipped away. He made excellent care that his hoofsteps made no sound as he descended the stairs.

Once on the first floor, he made his way to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. When he arrived, Noble Declaration, the resident newspaper writer, was working on a new article. They shared pleasantries while Thatcher made some hay toast. He made some extra for his wife as well, you can never be too certain.

ooOOoo

Detective Scratch nodded knowingly with a solemn grimace. Detective Melody swatted her. Thatcher paid no mind, he wasn't like those other nobles who put gay couples to shame. 'Love doesn't discriminate' he sometimes likes to say.

ooOOoo

Thatcher then read the newspaper while munching on his toast. It was nearly half an hour later when his wife came down the steps. She mumbled something, prepared herself some coffee, and took half the toast. Thatcher nodded to her and she ignored him, that was okay. She wasn't a morning pony.

After breakfast, he went to the village. A quaint little place. He always prided himself on his ability to not be snobby, so he was proud to say that the locals did not hate him. Merely disliked him. It's drastically different in other towns. Now, his reason for visiting the peasantry was that he needed supplies for his upcoming party. He had invited several of his good friends and it simply would not do for him to not have the freshest of the fresh.

He made his rounds, visiting several farmers, collecting fresh produce of various kinds. He also visited the recreational center and acquired several games like pong ping and booling. Not quite sure what they are but the store owner said it is quite splendid.

Thatcher returned around two hours later, told his wife to prepare some refreshments for the guests while he set up the entertainment. He did not do that great of a job, but that was okay. He appreciates mistakes, it allows him to grow. When he came out, several guests had arrived.

The retired Major Tomato, although he likes to be called Tom, and his cheery wife, Mint. The two are just adorable. Standing to the side was Thatcher's son, Poof Matcher. Must have come with good ol' Tom. He did say he was staying over at their place, can't remember why.

"My dear Tom, how goes your day?" Thatcher said after greeting the two.

"It goes quite alright, my good fellow. Why, we just saw one of those rare Scissor-tails. It sure made our day just a little bit brighter." He chuckled along with his wife's giggling.

"Indeed!"

Thatcher and Tom would then move too his office. Poured themselves brandy, Thatcher does love a good brandy. Mint would go help his wife in the kitchen. Those two are just darlings in the kitchen, great with their flavors too.

ooOOoo

Detective Scratch then crossed her hooves, it was pretty obvious that meant he should stop. So he stopped. She then gestured about something heavy falling, thumped her chest, pantomimed spear thrusting, fell to the floor, and then to finish her bizarre spectacle, she shrugged.

"Vinyl is wondering what your relationship with the Major is. How did you come to meet him and everything."

"Well, it's a long story." Thatcher swallowed and prepared himself for quite the long tale. "It all started when I enlisted. I wanted to be guard to impress my father, a lot of good that did. Anyhoo, this young colt was sitting next to me while waiting to sign up. He introduced himself as Tomato. Little would we know that he would rise up to be Major whereas I would I leave and seek my fortune elsewhere." He coughed, rubbed his throat and looked at his audience of two.

"That...didn't seem all that long. Whatever, it doesn't matter. Continue your story, if you please."

ooOOoo

They ran out of the personal supply of brandy in his office so Tom and Thatcher went outside. They barely took a step towards the cellar when Thatcher saw a carriage pull up in the driveway. Who other than the Archduke family. The great stallion of Archduke, it was most amusing to Thatcher when he got news that his dear old friend rose to the rank of Archuduke. AND that he found a filly named Archduchess. Such a shame they named their only son, Embezzle.

Being the good host he was, Thatcher was compelled to trot on over and greet the trio. It didn't take long before their drinking duo became a drinking quadruple. Like he always says, 'the more the merrier!'

While they were exploring the fine options in the cellar, Duke Embezzle let it slip that he knew nothing of brandy. Thatcher took that as an offense to the natural order of fine dining and dragged the colt to one of his game rooms. There, the four of them got...a bit carried away.

***

When Thatcher came to, he was alone in the room. Even the unopened bottles of brandy were gone. Were it any other day, he would've screamed and cried, but not today. No, today was special. He picked himself off the hard floor and cleaned himself up as best as he could and trotted out. He was surprised to see everypony already in the living room, chattering away like chipmunks. The entertainment was also already here, a miss Octavia Melody, hired because his wife wanted some refinement. How could he say no?

He trotted over to where Noble was relaxing with a drink in hoof. It looked sparkling, perhaps champagne. While on the way, he picked out some hors d'oeuvres and sat next to the writer. The two struck up a conversation about local news and Canterlot news. Apparently Princess Mi Amore Cadenza married a noble. He was now to be referred to as Prince Shining Armor. Thatcher didn't know what to make of that.

Then without warning, lightning struck, casting the house in darkness. Thatcher sighed, he was really hoping that the weather ponies wouldn't go forth with their plans. Perhaps he should've bribed them, postponed it for another day. Oh well, not much he could do now. Oh wait, the guests were panicking.

Thatcher got up and announced that everything would be alright. That the house being cast in darkness is perfectly normal. And sure enough, true to his word, the lights came back on. He had several magic technicians try to figure out why this was, but nopony seemed to know why.

Archduke Archduke asked in his curious way whether or not that happened every time. With the patience of a practiced gentlestallion, Thatcher repeated his sentence and smiled hopefully reassuringly.

Lightning struck a second time, blanketing the room. There were some noise and when the light came back on, there was Poof. The silly colt had a knife stuck in his chest and had his blood spilling all over the blood carpet! Doesn't the colt know how much that carpet cost? It was imported from Saddle Arabia! Thatcher made a move to move his idiot son but promptly collapsed and was knocked out.

***

When he came to the second time that evening, he was met by nothingness. Or more accurately, the pitch blackness of midnight and an empty house. Thatcher groaned and got up, his hoof clutching his head.

With an exhausted roll, he flopped out of the couch he was on and crashed onto the floor. Thatcher groaned, couldn't this night have gotten any worse! Finally deciding that moping was worthless, especially one of his stature. Thatcher got up and straightened out his mane and coat.

He trotted over to the cabinet and pulled out a glass and brandy bottle. He poured himself a cup and then trotted over to the fire. He stared into those flickering flames. He started to swirl his cup, not caring if the liquid spilled over.

The door opened and Thatcher didn't even blink.

"Margherita, what are you doing at this hour?" He asked, taking a single glance at his wife. The damned mare had her prized ferret on her shoulder, that never spelled good news for him. After he spoke, he realized that he had an unlit cigar in his mouth. He hadn't even realized that he had placed it there.

"I'm here because I have to talk to you. It's about our son. He's dead." His wife glanced at him sparingly before reaching with her magic and pulled out said corpse. It was quite morbid if he thought about it, which of course, he didn't. "Thatcher, we need to burn the body before the Royal Guards arrive, including this." She pulled out the booling ball Thatcher had bought earlier. He wasn't entirely sure why it had to go, but if your wife demands something, you don't question it.

The two of them, in the dead of night, one carrying his brandy and cigar, and the other carrying her live ferret and booling ball. Together, they carried their only son to the fireplace and dropped it unceremoniously. He never stopped swirling his brandy. She never stopped petting her ferret. They watched as the fire consumed and devoured. It would be nothing but ash in the morning.

ooOOoo

"I can go now? That was it. I fell asleep on the couch after that and then awoke to Royal Guards keeping me on house arrest." Thatcher asked. He was feeling strangely good.

Detective Scratch nodded.

He stood up, nodded to the two mares and trotted away. He found himself smiling. What could they do? They were just silly mares who were in over their heads, and silly mares don't hold power. He did.

Author's Note

postpone...post pone...Derpy?

You might have spotted some inaccuracies in this chapter considering the other chapters. This is correct, unless you're talking about grammar mistakes, then its probably not correct.

Pizza Margherita's Tale

Pizza Margherita watched her husband slink away from the dining hall with a self-satisfied expression on his face. She sniffed, her useless husband must've spilled everything. Well, not everything. She was quite certain he had no idea what he did when he was drunk on his beloved brandy. Really, the amount he consumes in inponane. He should've been named Brandy or something of the sort.

"Margherita, dear. The Detectives require your presence." There was a hidden scoff behind that 'Detectives'. It appears her husband thinks them useless, no doubt because they are mares of peasantry backgrounds. Margherita narrowed her eyes. The fool's view on mares will be his downfall.

Without answering, she trotted towards the dining room, an air of disinterest wafting around her. She was quite experienced in the art of misdirection, a tool most useful when dealing with the utter buffoons her husband calls friends. Despite his poor taste in friends, she must say Noble Declaration is quite the darling.

"Mrs. Margherita." That Melody mare said simply. There was nothing behind that expression. The other mare on the other hoof, she was an enigma. Her shades and headphones gave her the appearance of a night life delinquent, but she felt those piercing eyes.

"If you think I'll spill as much as my husband, than you are sorely mistaken."

Vinyl Scratch nodded slightly, one hoof twitching as well. Octavia Melody seemed to take notice in this and nodded.

"We understand your want in secrets, however it is crucial that you tell us everything in order to solve your son's murder." There was a slight hitch in that last word. Margherita wouldn't have noticed it if she weren't so good at hearing slight sounds. One needs to know how a pizza sounds when ready, even over a crackling oven.

"And why would I do that? There are no benefits for me or my husband or any of these ponies, really." She tilted her head.

Octavia Melody gaped open like a fish waiting to be fed. It looked utterly ridiculous. Vinyl Scratch however, seemed to have expected that. Betting on it even. Margherita decided she needed to be careful in her wording from here on. That mare gave her a slight chill. The unicorn never seemed to break eye contact while she maneuvered her hooves in a quite peculiar way.

"Right. So, you do not care for your son?"

"Never have, never will. His death means nothing to me."

Margherita took a shaky breath in. That last sentence did her in. She had felt a slight pressure on her chest and suddenly she wanted to do this. Margherita didn't have time for thoughts and questions when she was forcibly placed on a chair. She looked up to see the abhorrent excuse of a unicorn looking back at her, her horn aglow.

"My! I would..." A white hoof was placed on her lips, cutting off whatever she was going to say. She was beyond furious now.

"Like I said, it would be wise." The pressure on her chest seemed to increase and soon she couldn't hold it in.

ooOOoo

The day began like any other. Pizza Margherita rolled out of bed, the other side already empty, and hit the shower. Despite their fancy house and their posh demeanors, their shower is actually pretty basic. Margherita let the water run down her face and enjoyed the coolness of its touch. Today was going to be interesting.

After getting out, drying herself, and making herself presentable, Margherita made her way downstairs. From the stairs, she could see that mildly interesting resident newspaper writer and her useless husband were sitting at the table. Bless her husband's heart, he made her toast. Toast. All he ever makes is toast.

Margherita mumbled about how useless her husband is and snagged the toast up and broke it in two, pretending it was her husband's head. After that cathartic release, she made coffee for herself. Black with nothing else, the taste made her content.

After that halfhearted preparation, Margherita made her way to the living room and sat down on one of the luxurious couches. She should've felt like in heaven, everything she ever wanted was right there, within the frogs of her hooves. But knowing that somehow made it worse. She sighed.

She had no idea how long she sat there. The world kind of just...faded away. She still ate and drank her breakfast, but only because of habit. Margherita let her mind wander, thoughts of murder, of suicide, of running away, of sleeping, of hiding.

She didn't blink when the butler, Van Dime, took her plate away. The sweet old stallion had served the Thatchers for centuries, for better or worse. Margherita immediately liked him because of the way he held himself, like he owned his existential inexistence. He reminded her of herself. Itailian families are known for many foals, Margherita was no different. Sporting five siblings, competition was encouraged and necessary. Those certainly were the days.

ooOOoo

That ruffian rolled her forehooves in a questioning matter. Her partner, the near useless earth pony, translated and said that they would like to know the description of Van Dime.

Margherita sighed dramatically, as if she was annoyed that her story was interrupted. The two just stared at her. It infuriated her. She wanted to stand up, set these mares in their places, but thought better of it.

"Van Dime is an old stallion. Patchy gray coat, ragged mop of a mane, piercing blue eyes, cutie mark was a tie atop a serving dish."

"Thank you. You may continue."

ooOOoo

A full hour had passed and her husband came back. The fool was chattering away like a starling, a quick glance told her that ex-Major Tomato and his wife, Mint, had arrived. The colt had a goofy grin, it would have been adorable were it not for the fact that he was staying the night. Margherita's husband made a shooing gesture and Mint trotted over wearing a well practiced 'patience' look. She knew that one well.

There was no need for anymore words to be said, Margherita knew exactly what her husband wanted and what he wanted out of Mint too.

"Come along, dearie." She guided the timid mare away from those boisterous stallions and into the kitchen. The dining table was empty and clean, Noble was gone.

With practiced ease, the two mares danced around each other and the kitchen itself as they prepared the food. Their movements spoke of repetition times of a hundred and even then some. It wasn't hard to choose which dish to cook, they've done this enough times to know exactly what to make and how to make it.

Barely an hour had passed when they finished with the last dish. The counter was laden with various foods, thankfully the kitchen was large. While they completed the finishing touches, not that their husbands would appreciate, the door opened up letting in yet another abandoned wife.

"Archduchess Archduchess, a pleasure." Margherita smiled softly before bowing slightly. Mint followed her lead. Smart filly.

"Pizza Margherita, it's been too long! How's your son? I know that you aren't exactly on speaking terms..." The mare laughed haughtily.

"He's doing alright as far as I know. Who knows what might happen though. It's not like we live forever." She and the Archduchess shared a laugh. Behind her, Mint shrunk away and busied herself with the food despite there being nothing to be done. "Say, how goes it with your son? Returned after so long?"

"Yes." Now it was her turn to narrow her eyes. "To be honest, he doesn't act like my dear Embezzle. There's something off about the colt, and ever since he got access to the bank notes...I don't know." The Archduchess took a seat at the dining table, her purse resting on the table.

"Indeed." The three mares fell quiet. There was no sounds to be heard excepting the sounds of the servants, they were just moving furniture.

Then, without warning, the doors burst open and four drunk stallions collapsed on the carpet. Margherita's husband, Mint's husband, Archduchess's husband and colt. They were singing some song of some kind, the horrid and brash kind, the kind that would earn a mouthful of soap.

Margherita sighed heavily. Mint groaned. Archduchess audibly rolled her eyes. The three mares helped them to their hooves but before they could do or say anything, the fool of a husband, Margherita's husband took off announcing there were games to be played.

The other three cheered and trampled after him, nearly crashing into Van Dime.

"Alright, dearies. I say we have some fun, what say you? If I know my husband, and I'm pretty sure I do, then they'll drinking his favourite brandy. The four of them won't be able to remember anything." The other wives started to smile which turned into a feral grin.

Yelling like banshees, the three mares took off after their stallions, each desiring a different need or want. It wasn't long before they found them in the game room, babbling like the colts they really are. Tomato had somehow been hanging from the rafters, shouting weee. Archduke and her husband were doing a tango. Embezzle was actually nowhere to be found, but nomare seemed to care about that at the moment.

"Let's get them!"

When your husband is wasted and you wish them dead, why, lead him to the forest to die.

On the way back, Margherita felt lighter. She felt happier. There was even a skip in her step. That all came to a screeching halt when she rounded the corner to the entrance to the house. Poof Matcher, her son, stood at the front door, holding a bouquet of flowers in his magic. She trotted up to him.

"Son."

"Mother." He didn't even act surprised. He simply just turned around and presented the flowers.

"Thank you. I'm sure your father would love this." She placed the flowers on her back and opened the door, allowing him to step inside first. "What brings you here?"

"Father."

"He invited you, did he?" Margherita trotted up to a vase already filled with flowers. She opened a window and chucked them out. She then placed her son's bouquet in the vase. It seemed appropriate that those flowers came from her husband.

"He did indeed. Where is father? I have a need to speak with him."

"He is not here, he is...occupied." It wasn't a lie.

"Occupied."

"Yes, occupied."

"I see." There was a hint of knowing in those eyes of his. Her son disappeared around a corner.

Right after her son's tail vanished, there was a knock at the door. Margherita trotted over and opened the door with a frown.

ooOOoo

"And this is where you entered."

"Indeed."

"Then perhaps you should continue the tale."

The unicorn shook her head.

"Vinyl wants to hear your perspective on everything."

"I see."

ooOOoo

There was Octavia Melody, the musician she hired for tonight's festivities. Recommended to her by Fleur de Lis, she was a breath of fresh air from all these stuffy nobles. She carried herself with importance but there was no smugness behind it. She carried herself with the knowledge of actual skill. It was awe inspiring, but nopony would catch her dead saying that.

"Miss Pizza Margherita I presume?" The cellist gave a little bow.

"You presume correctly. The main festivities will be in the living room, so if you could set up there..."

"And the living room is where?" She asked pointedly, no fear.

"Down the hall to the right."

"Of course." She said before taking off, the heavy cello case slung on her back.

Margherita followed her, even if it was just to watch a master work her craft. She wasn't sure how long she stood there enraptured by the realness of it all.

A knock at the door broke her out of her musings. More guests.

Lord Branded trotted in with a self satisfied smile.

Then it was Mint, back from her trip and was wearing a goofy smile.

Fish Fillet came in after her, there was something about his expression that caught her off guard, but he's always been like that. She had no idea what her husband saw in that pony.

The Archduchess and the Archduke were last. Archduke looked chastised whilst his wife looked the utter opposite. A beacon of light that mare.

It didn't take long for the festivities to start. Octavia, bless her, played her cello with such passion. At some point, Noble Declaration and her son arrived, both with drinks in hoof. The two were chattering like they were old friends and it warmed her old heart.

"Ah, Margherita."

"Branded. Are you enjoying yourself so far?" The two were near the back with a view of the cellist and her son.

"I am, thank you for asking."

"What do you want?"

"Cutting straight to the chase, I see. Well, what I want, as you so crudely put it, is your hoof in marriage."

Champagne shot out of Margherita's nose as she guffawed. It ended up in disaster as she ended up on the floor hacking and coughing and fizzy drink everywhere. She could feel eyes on her pelt but she didn't care. This day has been truly horrid, nothing like public humiliation to add to the list.

"My dear stallion," she said after recovering somewhat. "You...are quite delusional." She giggled, booped his nose, and trotted to the kitchen to clean off her coat and perhaps get some towels.

When she got back, she found her son sitting in front of Octavia with an awestruck expression. Lightning struck, leaving the house in darkness. One of the blasted 'quirks' of the house was the lighting inconsistencies within the spell matrix.

Margherita was feeling a bit...hot headed. Today was not the day. Her vision started going all blurry, whether or not it was from the champagne, she would never know.

"So, you're saying that when lightning strikes nearby, the lights will always go out?" A pony asked.

"Yes." Her husband replied.

The world was cast in darkness yet again. Margherita found a chair in the madness and sat herself down. She let her head drop down in agony but before she could hit the solid and comforting wood of the table, she instead hit a hard circular object. Her cry was drowned out when the lights flickered back on revealing her son's dead body.

She watched with numbness as her husband trotted over hesitantly before collapsing as well. He seemed to be suffering from shock or brandy withdrawal. The silence was soon filled with laughter and sobbing. She realized after a while that it was her who was doing both. Blood was oozing down her son's barrel.

Today was not her day. She collapsed as well.

***

Margherita awoke with a splitting headache. Memories arose to the surface and comforted her as she retched all over. The darkness made it impossible to tell where she was nor where her puke was landing, but like she said earlier, she was at the lowest point.

Getting up, slipping once or twice, Margherita somehow made her way to the doorway. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the gloom, revealing her location. Somehow, somepony dragged her back to her bedroom. She thanked whoever did that and clambered down the stairs.

Her eyes had adjusted enough that she could see some sort of tape around the windows and presumably the doors. They were quarantined. Margherita was in a whodunnit. What has her life become?

Evidence.

They'll be looking for evidence. Need to get rid of it.

The rest of the night became a haze of pain and confusion. When she finally resurfaced, she found herself carrying her son's body and a bowling ball. There was liquid dripping down the ball. How to get rid of this?

Cremation.

She made for the secondary living room. The fire is usually kept up, even at this hour. It's also private. Before she could open the door, there was a heavy thud and a familiar groan. Great. Just what she needed.

She pushed open the door and was greeted by her husband.

"Margherita, what are you doing at this hour?"

"I'm here because I have to talk to you. It's about our son. He's dead." She dragged out the body. She didn't look at her son. She looked at her husband. He looked wasted. "Thatcher, we need to burn the body before the Royal Guards arrive, including this." She pulled out the bowling ball. In the firelight, the liquid was confirmed as blood.

ooOOoo

"You may go now." Octavia said after the unicorn made some gestures.

"If I was innocent, I would say good luck. If I was guilty, I wouldn't even be here."

"We'll keep that in mind." Octavia tried to smile. It didn't convince her. She instead looked to the unicorn.

Detective Vinyl still had her amiable expression. Nothing was behind those glasses and there wasn't an indication she was listening behind those headphones.

"Well, good day then."

"Good day."

Noble Declaration's Tale

Noble Declaration watched Lady Margherita trot out of the room with a confused expression while simultaneously wore a relieved face. Dots were starting to connect in Noble's head. The group around him shifted and murmured, wondering who was next. Much to everypony's surprise, Miss Melody called out his name.

Noble got up from the sofa with a heavy sigh and trotted forwards. Behind him, many of the guests questioned about him. He couldn't help but hide a smile. He was a newspaper writer and researcher, he hunted down stories and gathered them from other sources. He did all of this from behind the scenes, the only outward appearance he shows off is his name in every article he has ever written. Thus the confusion of the guests. They don't know him and he's okay with that.

Noble trotted into the dining room casually. Behind him the door closed. He paid no attention.

"Noble Declaration. Both Thatcher and Margherita have claimed your part in the tale. Whether or not you can confirm is yet to be seen." Miss Melody started off, her posture and speech posh and careful. Beside her, Noble noticed Miss Scratch made a subtle movement with her head. Rolling her eyes behind the glasses no doubt.

"You want to hear my story? Not whether or not I'm guilty or whether I know who the killer is?" Noble was quite confused. That's not how the books went or the articles, which came from Detective Vinyl herself!

The unicorn shrugged and put on a cocky grin. For added effect, she wiggled her forelegs in a smooth pattern.

"What Vinyl is trying to say, excluding unnecessary commentary, is that she would like the full picture. The most obvious suspect might be innocent and the least likely clue might be the biggest."

Vinyl nodded and flashed her smile. Noble might be young, but he wasn't a fool.

"I see. I assume you have Truth Incense? Odorless, featureless, and noiseless. Perfect tools for getting a suspect to confess." He was quite sure they were burning incense because of the look Margherita was wearing earlier. It looked like the pictures he gets sent to put in the articles.

Vinyl nodded with a toothy grin.

"I see. My full story then."

Vinyl nodded again.

"Alright."

ooOOoo

Noble Declaration, a stallion with an early schedule, woke up before the sun had fully risen. He made his way down the hall and into the kitchen. The Thatcher's had generously given him the guest bedroom to stay in while he did his work. He honestly can't remember why he was allowed to stay here, but here he was.

In the kitchen, he made himself some toast and tea. He found a comfortable position by the table and got to work. This week's newspaper was about the Royal Wedding. Reactions from the nobles, interviews with the Elements of Harmony, conspiracy theories, the weather. After a while, you get a bit bored with all the news. But Noble kept trudging on, bringing news to the masses.

While he was working, Roof Thatcher, patron of the household, made his way down the stairs. He nodded sleepily to Noble's direction and made himself a hay sandwich, complete with extra daisies, just the way he likes them. The funny part was that he never remembers what's on his sandwiches.

He then made his way to the couch with last week's newspaper. That edition had a very detailed description of the Royal Wedding from some witnesses. Noble's personal favorite was from a mailmare. Many ponies claimed her fighting prowess was unmatched. Her and a certain cello player, the exact same that Margherita invited. Noble chuckled, sometimes the high and mighty truly are blind.

He was in the middle of writing down a headline for page three when she arrived on scene. Speak of Discord and he shall arrive, he supposed. Noble watched as the mare trotted down the stairs with a certain assuredness that spoke of being spoiled and entitled. Honestly, he would've disappeared a long time ago were it not for financial issues.

He nodded to her when she passed to be polite. She ignored him, that was okay. She then proceeded to destroy the poor toast her husband left her, that was okay too. He certainly wasn't going to say anything, he wanted to keep his head. Noble just hummed and continued working, getting in the zone.

Halfway through, he lifted his head and noticed that Thatcher had disappeared. Margherita was still sitting on the couch looking like a lost filly. He ignored her and decided that it was time for him to move. If Thatcher left, that meant he was going to come back with ponies and supplies and Margherita was bound to get angry at something.

Noble quickly picked up his newspapering supplies and booked it, heading towards the many offices. He dumped his stuff down and leaned back on the chair Thatcher had put out for him a week prior. The space was simple enough, plenty of room for his various news sources, interviews, pictures, stories, etc. There was even a mirror in one corner and a couch at the other.

Noble got up and trotted towards the mirror because why not. He looked at himself. Despite living here for a few weeks now, it was surprising how much fatter he's gotten. Granted, he wasn't fat, but the weight he's gained is a bit concerning.

Besides the added weight gain, Noble Declaration looked normal. A beige stallion with a yellow orange striped mane and tail. His eyes were a 'cute' blue, or so he's been told. Trotting around in a circle, he was able to glance at his cutie mark, a newspaper printing press, surprise surprise.

He sighed and continued to work. He kept at it until he heard a door slam open with loud voices. He mused that perhaps some of the guests had arrived. He got up and stealthily peered through a window that overlooked the front door and his suspicions were confirmed. Two stallions, both unknown, and a mare. The mare he knew to be Mint. She came to him one day to speak of a supposed urgent business containing a ferret and scotch. It was most perplexing. If Mint was there, then one of those stallions must be her husband. He ignored them and went back to work.

ooOOoo

Vinyl looked like she had a question so Noble stopped talking. Being a reporter and newspaper writer, one needs to recognize signs. The mare in question did a number with her hooves. Miss Melody glanced at her, nodded once, and then looked back at him.

"Mister Declaration, it seems you know a lot about these ponies. It would be very helpful if you could narrate their relationships along with your retelling, if you can, that is."

"Of course, and please, call me Noble. I have nothing to declare after all."

"If you wish."

ooOOoo

Major Tomato, preferably known as Major Tom, was a Major in the war against the Abyssinians many years ago. Roof Thatcher, just a colt, was also in that war. Over time, the two formed a pseudo father-son relationship. Thatcher made sure after he got wealthy that Major Tom was well looked after.

As for Mint, she's just a farm filly Major Tom spotted one day and proposed to her on the spot. Her family being poor, her kind heart forced her into accepting. Almost all of her bits she gets from the Major goes to her family, keeping the rest for small acts of kindness around the village the two live in. Noble snorted. It's a miracle he hasn't ditched her yet.

As for the relationships with Margherita, it's quite simple. She hates Major Tom but adores Mint. She often says how similar their situations are.

Noble had nearly finished the first draft before noises of a carriage rolling up the driveway. More guests, he thought to himself. What a joy. Peeking through a small window, he saw the Archduke family clamber out of the rickety old thing.

Archduke Archduke, one of the most absurd names Noble had ever stumbled across and he's known many. The pitiful stallion loved gambling and drinking. A terrible and totally cliche character if you ask Noble. His ties to Thatcher lie in just being old friends. Apparently they went to school together.

Archduchess Archduchess came next with an extravagant frown and a worrinnoyed expression on her face. It was heartening to see as Noble never really cared for that pesky mare. Her ties to the family merely lie in Archduke himself. According to Noble, they've only had one child of whom they had to bury not long after birth. A sad day for all. Then that one child returned. Duke Embezzle. Noble never trusted that pony. Something in his eyes seemed...wrong.

As he watched, the mare was sent inside while Archduke and Embezzle stayed behind with Major Tom and Thatcher. He immediately lost interest when they went to get more scotch. Seriously, Thatcher had a terrible scotch problem. Instead he went back to work, the draft was nearly done after all. He was currently on the page that spoke of the insane success of Ditzy Doo's Mail Delivery.

An unknown amount of time passed before he finished. He sighed and stretched, cracking his back. He got up and packed away his draft into his saddlebags and made his way into the livingroom. Before he could step hoof into the room, he heard a commotion down the other hallway. Curious, Noble trotted out to the noise.

He was surprised to see the four stallions wasted and doing complete nonsense. Archduke Archduke was babbling about how the world was ending and how Coltfornia was sinking. Roof Thatcher was standing on a couch screaming to Major Tom who was writhing in agony on the floor. The pile of blankets that Noble had assumed was Lord Embezzle was actually just a pile of blankets, which meant Embezzle wasn't even in the room, unless he was a really good hider.

Deciding that he didn't want to be a part of...whatever this was, Noble backed out immediately and trotted towards the kitchen to grab some food. He almost made it there too before a door burst open and Noble slammed into it. He collapsed clutching his bloody noise and whined. Over the pain he heard four very drunk stallions.

Shifting to the side of the door, he saw the same exact stallions who were in the game room including Lord Embezzle! Noble decided to ignore everything and go upstairs to his room, which should be much quieter. He stopped to talk to Van Dime before making his way up the stairs and asked for food to be brought to his room. The butler nodded and bowed.

ooOOoo

Vinyl stopped the story by waving her forelegs widely. She made some gestures that looked like a question. He was pleased to see he was right when Miss Melody translated.

"She's wondering about Van Dime. What does he look like? What's his relationship with everypony?"

"Huh. I've never thought about that. He's always in the background, helping out everypony. He also seems to have this casual thin smile everytime I see him...hmmm..." Noble drifted into thought. He was snapped out of it by a heavy thud, and Vinyl looked annoyed.

"What does he look like?"

"Small gray stallion, dirty white mane, darker gray fetlocks and larger than normal. His cutie mark is uhh...I've never seen his cutie mark. He's always wearing this butler uniform that covers his flanks."

"Thank you, you may continue." Miss Melody said after Vinyl nodded with satisfaction.

ooOOoo

Noble waited upstairs, entertaining himself with an interesting novel. It was about how to spend your time effectively. After making it halfway through the book did he realize that the butler never came in. He went downstairs to go check if something had happened.

He saw Margherita on the couch sighing contentedly and staring at the ceiling, besides her nothing was out of the ordinary, unless a missing butler counted. Noble stood there, thinking for a moment then decided to claim his snack. Rummaging through the fridge rewarded him with a block of cheese. Cutting himself several slices and returned the rest, he trotted away in search of the butler.

While he was passing a doorway, he heard a heavy thud and then a screech of despair. It was answered by a shaky voice unintelligible. Decided that something was off there, Noble pushed his way into a scene of...something.

ooOOoo

"Thinking back, none of it makes sense."

ooOOoo

Major Tom was standing looking frustrated mixed in with confusion and despair, next to him was the stallion Noble saw earlier with Tom and Mint. The mysterious stallion had a bushy mustache and a green beanie hat. He also had a flashlight gripped in his magic and he looked ready to strike. On the floor lay the bodies of the butler and Lord Branded.

"Wha...?" Was all he got out before getting whacked over the head.

***

Noble Declaration awoke lying on a couch, wrapped up in blankets. He stumbled out, groggy and disoriented. Nothing felt right, especially his head. He tried touching his head with a hoof but being on three hooves seemed too much and promptly collapsed on the quilted floor. He let loose a groan.

He had no idea how long it took for him to fully recover but when he did, he was capable of standing and trotting without tilting to one side. He took that as a win. He stumbled out of the room he somehow was in and nearly crashed into Poof Matcher.

"My good fellow, you need to consume less firewater next time." Poof smiled good heartedly.

"I'll ta...take that in mind." Noble clutched onto his new savior, determined to not let go. "Could you, mayhaps, keep me upright?"

"Sure...?"

"Noble Declaration."

"Poof Matcher."

He nodded and together they walked into the living room. Right after entering, they both grabbed a drink from Van Dine who didn't look less for wear. Poof guided Noble to a very comfortable looking couch.

"So, any reason you were in that room?" Poof asked after settling down.

"I have no idea why I was in there. Why?"

"Oh, that's just my father's personal study room."

"Ah, my deepest apologies then."

"Eh, it's fine."

After that, they started chattering over mundane things. And sooner or later, Thatcher arrived on scene looking just as disoriented as Noble was earlier. He beelined straight for Noble and sat down next to him, not even glancing to his son. Noble casted an apologetic look towards Poof but he was already gone, disappeared amongst the ponies.

Thatcher then struck up a conversation about the Royal Wedding and Noble was forced to listen. While he was 'listening', he did notice that Thatcher was sweating and that his eyes were shifting all over the place. It was quite curious.

Then lightning struck, and the world went dark.

"Everypony, please calm down! This is completely normal. Whenever lightning strikes nearby the lights turn off. It will come back on soon enough." Went Thatcher, his voice calm and assured.

"So, you're saying that when lightning strikes nearby, the lights will always go out?" Asked by a noble, Noble was pretty sure it was Lord Branded although he isn't a hundred percent sure. The lights flickered on soon after that.

Lightning struck again and the house went black. There was a scuffle and a metallic ring and then slow dripping as well as a gasp. Several shadows were in the distance but before he could make out any details, the light flickered on and the dead body of Poof Matcher was revealed. Near him was Van Dime, Lord Branded, and Lord Embezzle. Noble also took note on how unsurprised Margherita was.

Before anypony could say anything, Lord Branded pointed a hoof towards Van Dime and yelled. "It was the butler!"

Thatcher collapsed and Margherita followed quite soon after. It would've been hilarious were it not for the fact that Noble's newest acquaintance had just been killed.

"I'll...I'll take him to the undertaker." Noble offered since nopony was doing anything.

"No. Everypony will stay here, the body goes outside the back door and we can contact to anypony in a few minutes though. Soon a detective will arrive and an investigation will be done. Before that, I'm putting this building on quarantine." Miss Melody stood with a curious intensity.

Thatcher was the first to fall unconscious, Margherita was soon after and before she hit the ground, the screaming started.

ooOOoo

"That's all I've got for now. I'll tell you if I have more."

Vinyl nodded slowly with a curious look. Octavia just looked confused.

"Good luck with finding the killer." Noble left.

Author's Note

ooooo

Tomato and Mint's Tales

Major Tomato, veteran and socialite, sat on a couch nursing a terrible wound on his head.

Mint, wife and caretaker, sat next to her husband holding the ice pack against his head.

Both watched Roof Thatcher enter and then leave. Pizza Margherita was called in and left as well. That newspaper lackey entered as well and left unharmed. The three of them wore a grin, a frown, and a thought provoking expression respectively. By now, Major Tom was sure of his safety. As for Mint, she wasn't sure what was going to happen at all and was dreading their names. As if by fate, Detective Octavia Melody called out their names. Together.

With nothing else to do, the two rose together and marched to the dining hall. He entered with calm confidence whilst she entered with slight hesitation.

"Major Tom. Mint. You may relax, all we want from you are your stories. Is that okay?" Detective Melody sat to the left of the table with a serious expression. At the head of the table was Detective Scratch, her expression unreadable beneath those purple shades and headphones.

"Is she listening?" Mint just had to ask. All she got in return was a pointed look in her direction by the detective in question.

"Our stories? Why, that's easy! I'm..." Tom stopped from an impatient waving motion from Detective Scratch. He looked on, confused.

"She wants you to start at the moment you arrived at the Thatcher's residence. And she always wants to hear from both of you." The gray mare gazed at Mint as she shrunk against her husband.

"Alright..."

ooOOoo

Major Tom and Mint and Fill arrived...

ooOOoo

He had to stop again by some more frantic waving.

"Yes?" He was getting impatient.

"Vinyl wants to know who Fill is. Nopony has mentioned him." Detective Melody translated.

"Oh, well, Fish Fillet, although everypony calls him Fill for short. He's this short stallion, his most discernible feature, I suppose, is his bushy brown mustache. That and his Caneighdian accent."

"He has a green coat and a brown mane and tail. I've never seen his cutie mark, so I dunno." Mint added.

"Alright. Continue."

ooOOoo

So, Tom, Mint, and Fill arrived at the house. They opened the door without any trouble and was greeted by Thatcher. He pulled Tom aside and claimed that they needed to go get brandy. He also told Mint to go help out with Margherita. Fill was completely ignored but he wore an easy smile and trotted out of the room.

Tom and Thatcher drank the night away, and everything became a blur. He has a terrible tolerance and memory becomes an issue after several drinks and he had many.

As for Mint, she trotted over to where Margherita was struggling in the kitchen. She flashed a tired smile to Mint as she took her place beside the other mare. Together they started cooking dishes together like they've done it so many times and they have done it so many times. Everything was second nature, they were even passing ingredients and supplies to each other without talking. That's how long they've been cooking together.

"Mint dear, everything alright in that household of yours?"

"Yep! Tom is such a sweetheart and I have good friends who keep me company when I need some time by myself." She grinned a bit too widely.

"I see."

They kept at it and before long, Archduke's family arrived. The stallions went along with Tom and Thatcher while Archduchess came over to the other mares to help with cooking. The three of them exchanged pleasantries and finished up the small touches to the dishes Mint and Margherita had whipped up.

He remembered that he was on fire and sinking in lava while Thatcher screamed his name and said something about avenging him. Then after several minutes of that, the four of them had a brilliant idea, although, he couldn't remember what the idea was. Before he knew it, he had crashed through the doors with the other stallions.

The three mares in the kitchen looked up and saw their stallions on their backs and babbling. Then they started singing, some shanty about a mare pirate captain who ripped out ponies innards and hung them up as decoration for her boat. The four disappeared off into another hallway.

"Alright, dearies. I say we have some fun, what say you? If I know my husband, and I pretty sure I do, then he'll be having them drinking his favourite brandy. The four of them won't be able to remember anything." Margherita said with a glint in her eye. The thought had Mint excited.

The three chased after their stallions with deeds planned.

Mint chased Tom down the hallway with a feral grin. So many thoughts were running through her head. When the couple rounded a corner, Mint pushed harder and crash on top of Tom, sending them both to the ground.

"Honeeeeey!" She cackled gleefully. She got up and heaved with all her might and dragged the poor stallion out the back door and into the wilderness. She...

ooOOoo

"Do I have to say what I did?" Mint was blushing furiously. "I really don't want to say what I did."

Detective Melody looked at the white unicorn who shrugged with a nod and a wave. Somehow that made sense to the gray mare as she turned back and said, "if you didn't meet anypony or hear anything suspicious, then no. You don't have to describe what you did."

"Oh, thank Faust. No, I didn't hear or see anything suspicious."

ooOOoo

She trotted back to the house with a silly grin, leaving her husband behind. When she knocked, Margherita opened the door looking confused and all she got in answer was a giggle. She trotted ahead, got herself a drink, and started chatting with Poof. Charming colt.

As for Tom, he found his way to the backyard of the house. He was sober, somehow. The hungover was terrible though, at least that was the same. He made his way to the backdoor relatively unharmed and stumbled inside. When he popped back up, he stumbled into Lord Branded.

Thoughts ran through his head at a thousand miles an hour and before he realized what he was doing, he had an unconscious Lord Branded by his hooves.

"Oh shoot!" He glanced around, wondering if anypony saw him. After checking for the third time, he decided to dispose the body outside. With the strength he found himself with, he managed to drag the poor stallion out into the grass outside and tried for the final push when suddenly...

"Oh, hey there Tom!" The stallion in question uncharacteristically shrieked and warbled a bit, found a tarp off to the side and draped it over the body.

"Oh, hey Fiiill!" Tom tried his best at acting casual.

"Oh, you saw that sushi tower Margherita whipped up?"

"Oh yeah, it was crazy."

"All those raw foods, you gotta be careful. You might get sick."

"Yeah yeah, not good for the health..."

"You know, I couldn't help but notice that you've got a stallion knocked unconscious there Tom."

The two ponies stared at each other.

"You saw that, huh."

"Oh yeah, sure did. Uh huh."

"Well, there's a perfectly good reasonable explanation for that."

"Oh, is it because you're holding him for ransom to help make payments on the deluxe carriage you bought earlier last month, Tom?" Fill smiled enthusiastically.

"...yes, that's exactly it. That's surprisingly specific." Tom's hangover was gone now, this...crazh stallion, woke him up.

"Well, I saw the carriage parked up there and I know what you do for a job (lack of one)," Fill coughed the last three words out without breaking stride, "and I put the two and two together." He chuckled with a bit of strain. "Alright, let's see what we've got here." Tom barely had anytime to protest before Fill whipped the tarp off revealing the still unconscious Branded.

"Oh woow, you've conked him good here, Tom. Yeaah. Oh? Is that Lord Branded from CrystalInc.?"

"Yeah, yeah it is." Tom was not feeling good.

"His partner is not gonna like this, don'tcha know." He laughed again.

"So yeah, what do we do now?" Tom rubbed his hooves together like a foal who got caught trying to take cookies.

"Well, I suppose I should call Thatcher."

"No! No no no, don't do that! Let's talk about this. What if I were to cut you in?" Tom made some gestures as if that would help.

"Ah, gee, that's awfully generous of you, Tom, but I don't know..." Branded lifted his head slightly and mumbled incoherently. Fill yelled like a banshee and kicked the poor stallion over the head. The Lord fell back down unconscious.

"Fill, what'd you do that for!"

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! He just scared the living heckfire out of me!"

Tom crouched over to look at the point of contact. "Ooh, you got him good."

"Oh no, did I? Ah gee, well I'm so sorry."

"Well, don't apologise to me!"

"You know, ah, I'm just gonna go call Thatcher. You can't be doing stuff like this, Tom." Fill backed off slightly, wagging a hoof at him.

"Now hang on! you're the one who hit him over the head with your hoof."

"Well yeah, but I didn't..." Fill was cut off again by Branded moaning and lifting his head. He again kicked him on the head, forcing the stallion down under again.

"Why do you keep doing that!!!" Tom asked with a high pitched voice, utterly baffled by what was happening.

"I'm sooorry! I was just afraid that if he saw my face that he might think I was an accessory or something."

"Well, you kind of are now!" Tom started prancing in place, panic blossoming over his face. "Ohhh, I should have never have done this! Just help me get him to a toilet before he gets hurt anymore."

"Yeah yeah, okay okay." The two stallions were poised to heave the Lord onto their backs when suddenly.

"Major Tom, your wife is wondering where you are." Van Dime trotted up with an air of professionalism while Tom badly covered up the body behind him. Fill crouched and launched upwards and kicked the poor butler on the head, leaving the poor colt on the ground unconscious as well.

"FIIIILL, WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?"

"He saw too much! He was going to rat on us!"

"Rat on who!? Who are you!?" Tom waved his hooves around utter despair on his face.

"Well, who is he!"

"He's the butler of the Thatcher's, I thought you knew this!"

"Ahhh, okay. Well, I should get going. I just, uhm..." The door opened again and this time it was the newspaper writer looking confused.

"Wha...?"

Fill wasted no time and threw a rock straight at the stallion's head. He dropped, unconscious before he even hit the ground.

"WHYYYYYY!?"

"He was asking too many questions!"

"Are you insane!? He's just a newspaper writer!"

"Aw, shoot, darn it all! You know, we could maybe get some gauze and clean this and..." The door opened up again revealing Tom's wife.

"Oh Tom, there you are."

Fill grabbed a piece of firewood and chucked it straight at Mint. She fell unconscious too.

"FILL!" He ran over to check on his wife, she seemed alright. "These ponies can't take anymore head trauma!"

"I'M SORRY! It just comes over me! And why do you have the busiest backyard in the history of kidnapping?"

"Ah, just go!" Tom cried out, anguished.

"Okay. Night, Tom!"

"Good night!"

Tom watched as the stallion ambled away before turning around a sighing, wondering what he should do now. He attempted to pick up his wife when suddenly.

"You know, I just have to take care of one more thing." Fill's voice filled the air before something heavy slammed into Tom's head. Dirt and shards collapsed around the stallion.

"OOOOOOW! WHY COULDN'T YOU HAVE USED YOUR HOOF!"

"GEE! You got quite the skull there, Tom." He chuckled. "Yeah, you know we should just..."

Another flowerpot slammed into Tom's head and before he knew it, he was out.

***

The two awoke nearly at the same time. They both ignored the butler who was still on the ground and made their way to the living room, stumbling and keeping each other upright. It took a while, but they made it. They bypassed some of the other nobles and collapsed onto a couch, grabbing some hors d'oeuvres and relaxing.

"Honey."

"Yes, Mint?"

"What was that."

"I honestly have no idea."

Then lightning cracked overhead and the world went dark.

Thatcher calmed the crowd down saying it was perfectly normal. Branded asked whether or not it happened every time lightning struck. Thatcher confirmed it was indeed so.

Another hors d'oeuvre later, lighting struck again. When the light turned on, Poof was laying on the ground with a knife in his chest. Blood started seeping around him. Mint started screaming. Tom felt faint. Thatcher actually fainted. Then so did Margherita. Detective Melody set up a quarantine.

ooOOoo

"That's it?" Detective Melody asked after Tom and Mint stopped talking. They pondered for a bit before nodding. She looked at Detective Scratch who shrugged in return. "Okay, you may go."

"Thank you." Mint was the first one up and was quickly followed by Tom. The two left together, leaning on each other. A heavy sigh behind them as well as a heavy thud.

Archduke and Archduchess' Tales

Archduke Archduke, first of his name and his wife, Archduchess Archduchess, first of her name. The two watched the proceedings with an air of superiority. They need it more than ever since that dreadful night. And to make matters worse, Princess Celestia's chosen Detectives are on site and investigating the so called murder. Archduke couldn't be more ashamed of the kingdom. As for Archduchess, she's made that she had to cancel her spa appointment because of this horrendous quarantine.

Major Tomato and his pitiful excuse of a wife exited the dining room wearing relieved faces. That was good, Archduke supposed. A foe who is comfortable and off guard can be hunted with ease.

That Melody mare poked her head out and called out for one "Fish Fillet."

Nopony stood up. Archduke scoffed, whoever this Fillet pony is, must be a coward. Won't even stand up at the call of their name. How shameful. He watched as the detective murmured something behind her and turned back to them and called out his and his wife's names.

"Come honey, those useless ponies playing dress up want to talk to us." He said in a teasing manner but at the same time, very seriously. His wife sighed and heaved herself upwards and together, they trotted to the dining hall with their heads held up high.

"Good good, please take a seat and we'll ask you some questions and then you may leave. That sounds good?" The Melody mare asked.

"That is sufficient." Archduke replied.

"Indeed, but please do hurry. I wish to leave." Archduchess bemoaned.

"It all depends on how fast you tell your story."

"Our story. What do you take us for? A court jester?" Archduke guffawed at that. His wife tittered behind a raised hoof. The Melody Mare rolled her eyes while behind her, the Scratch mare held her composure with such rigidity, Archduke just had to wonder if she was comfortable.

"Yes, your story. From when you arrived at the Thatcher's residence."

"I suppose we could do that. Would you like to go first, dear?"

"Oh no, you can go. I insist."

ooOOoo

The family of three arrived precisely on time. They are never late nor are they early, it would simply not do. Their son, their sweet sweet son, Embezzle. Bless his heart, looked utterly bored.

"Do cheer up, sugar." Archduchess said before putting on a huge smile and opened the door that led out of the carriage.

They were immediately greeted by Thatcher and Major Tomato. The two were grinning like buffoons. The host trotted up to them like a proper host should and greeted them appropriately. It was most pleasing to the Archduke. It was most unproper, however, when he realized that he was drunk and giggling like a maniac.

"Would you like some brandy, perhaps?" Thatcher asked with little to no slur.

"Brandy sounds delightful. May my son partake as well?"

"Of course!" The party of four now went on to find more brandy and to have a guys night.

As for Archduchess, she was left alone, so she entered and was hoping to find somepony to help her out. She immediately spotted Margherita and Mint cooking in the kitchen so delicately and timely that it made Archduchess envious. She quickly bit back those feelings before they could overwhelm her. Emotions are dangerous.

She quickly found her place among the mares and got to work. While it seemed like not much work had been left for her, there was still plenty for her to do. It was at the end of that work when the doors burst open spilling four stallions out onto the floor.

A few moments before that, Archduke was having the time of his life before he started seeing visions of the world ending. The flood was on fire! It was literally raining cats and dogs! Spike covered Volkswagens (whatever those are) fell from the sky too. Coltfornia broke off form Equestria and was now sinking! It seemed that there was no end to the disasters when a clap from Thatcher ended it all.

"Let us..." He drifted off, his gaze somewhere else. Embezzle, Archduke, and Tomato all cheered like it was the most amazing speech ever. "Let us....go!"

"HURRAH!" The four marched out and into the living room, colliding with each other, sending them sprawling. They swiftly got up and made their way to the game room Thatcher spoke of.

"I say we have some fun, what say you?" Margherita asked innocently. Archduchess readily agreed to this mischievousness. Her stallions shouldn't have left her all alone like that, they deserve to be punished.

She quietly stalked her stallions while Mint and Margherita dragged away their husbands. Archduke was regaling their son about his adventurous exploits in Kirea where he once fought a tiger. They rounded a corner and Archduchess quickly followed. She was then super confused when she found out that only Archduke was there and not her son.

He had slipped out a window after excusing himself. Archduke didn't seem to have a problem with that. Archduchess did.

"Dear."

"Wha...?" The stallion in question whipped around and the momentum caught him off balance and had him crashing to the ground in a heap.

"Come on, we need to find our son!" She heaved him up to his hooves and with support, they were able to exit the building and go searching for their son.

***

Nearly an hour had passed and he was nowhere to be found. They searched the house, the garden, the surrounding forest, even their carriage, but nothing. She called in the towel and dragged her drunk husband back. Perhaps he was at the party, although she wasn't all that optimistic.

"Honey." She asked.

"Yeshhhh........dear?"

"Our son is lost. Again. And it's all my fault." Archduchess couldn't help herself and started sobbing right in front of the door. Even while drunk, Archduke was a gentlestallion. He lifted his coat off his shoulders and placed it on hers.

"It'sh alright, it'sh alright. We'll find him again. Ish what we do." He nodded, confident in his words. "If not, that'sh okay. He'sh hish own shtallion now."

The two stood there, comforting each other for a while before Archduchess brightened up.

"Oh well. We'll just have to worry about that later. Let's go party!" The mare dragged her husband through the doorway, the door nearly slamming into Margherita. The two scampered past and into the living room. Many ponies had already arrived and were socializing. "Come on, honey! Let's have some fun!"

Archduke watched as his wife trapezed around the room with elegant maneuvers. She flitted from pony to pony with no agenda, just for the enjoyment of talking. All he could think about in that moment was that she was beautiful. Then lightning struck, sending everything dark. For a moment, Archduke thought he had one drink too many and the effects were finally catching up. His second thought after Thatcher started talking was that he had been blindfolded, by his wife perhaps. Then the lights turned on and everything was back to normal.

Archduchess was very concerned when it happened. She even let out a frightened scream when it happened and nearly jumped into Poof's lap, the poor stallion wouldn't be able to handle her...yet. She calmed down though when Tatcher explained the situation. It was reasonable and believable, so she believed him. She had a bright grin plastered on her face when the lights flickered back on.

Being an Archduchess isn't all that riveting, so to spend her time, she would paint and draw. Cultivating that hobby had led her to have very perceptive eyes, capable of finding details in the smallest things. So it was most curious to find Van Dime in the room with a bandage on his head. Then after some thought, the Archduchess thought nothing of it. Van Dime was the butler, he's probably just serving somepony.

Lord Branded asked his stupid question and Thatcher then replied with calm patience. That Thatcher was an enigma in Archduke's eyes. He never seemed to get drunk nor did he ever seem to be tired or sane. Curious thoughts like that flickered through his head. When the second lightning hit, Archduke was wondering whether or not it should be a potato man. His musings were cut short when the light flickered back on revealing the dead Poof.

ooOOoo

"Wait, that it?" The Melody Mare asked, disbelief dripping on her face.

"Quite so, it was very eventful." Archduke nodded sadly. His wife murmured some nonsense and he took that as encouragement.

"Huh, I see. Well, thank you for your time. You may leave now."

"My thanks." Archduke bowed slightly while making rude gestures in his head and trotted away, Archduchess wasn't too far behind. They made their way back to the couch and plopped down satisfied.

"We did good, honey."

Branded's Tale

Lord Branded gained his lordship a few years ago as a favor from Princess Celestia herself. He parades that fact quite proudly and everypony he's ever met has heard his story at least three times. When at the party a mare he'd never seen before playing the cello, he was excited to talk to her, but before she could get off break, that stupid murder happened ruining his chances. Then he found out that she was a detective and called in her partner to talk with the suspects. He was ecstatic, two mares to share exploits with!

As he waited impatiently, he watched as the uptight Archduke and Archduchess made their way out of the dining room. He waited with bated breath, hoping for his name to be called out. To his ultimate disappointment, Duke Embezzle's name was called out. Then after a quiet silence, he didn't stand up. In fact, the stallion looked like he was in one of his states. Apparently he was born with a disease that causes him to go in a state of unresponsiveness. He would stare off into the distance with a blank expression. Archduchess is very protective of him when he goes into one of his states. She went up to that cute gray detective and explained what was happening to her son. She frowned and then called out his name. HIS name!

It took all of Branded's willpower to not jump up and shout. He calmly got up and trotted with his head up high. He was ecstatic to find the other detective was waiting as well. She had these adorable purple shades that made Branded want to squeal.

"Lord Branded."

"Oh, you don't need to call me Lord, Branded is fine." He grinned. They weren't amused. That was fine by him.

"Lord Branded, we just want to hear your story. Start from when you entered this house." The gray mare said seriously. "After that, you may leave."

"Before we do all of that, I would like to know your names." He smiled, relying on his charms.

The gray mare looked at the white one who shrugged in return. "Detective Octavia Melody and this is Detective Vinyl Scratch. Now, please tell your story."

"But of course."

ooOOoo

Branded, a mere stallion, was walking through the gardens of Canterlot on his way to work. His work was working at a law firm...

ooOOoo

"Excuse me, but what does this have to do with the murder?" Octavia looked annoyed. Vinyl looked impassive. He smiled, tough crowd.

"Everything, my dear, everything."

ooOOoo

The law firm was boring but stable. It was on this walk to his job that he stumbled upon a guard looking frantic.

"My good sir, what has gotten you in such a tizzy?"

"CAKE!" Was the only word that came out. The guard attempted to bypass Branded but smacked into a tree and collapsed. Now, being the smart stallion he was, he put the two and two together. Princess Celestia must be wanting cake again and sent her guards.

Thinking it was a better task than going to work, he made his way to the local bakery and picked out several cakes. He sneakily put it on his boss's tab with a sly grin and cantered out of the shop with cakes in tow. He marched up to the front gates and into Sol Court. Princess Celestia was sitting passively on her throne while other nobles were arguing amongst themselves.

Branded held his head up high and trotted to the Princess. She looked down on him curiously but he didn't allow himself to be intimidated. He marched right up next to her and ignored all the confused and seething looks the other nobles were giving him.

"Princess. Your cakes."

Silence.

Then uproarious laughter from the nobles. Were it not for the kind gaze of the princess, Branded would have lowered his head in shame.

"Thank you, my little pony. Tell me, what could I offer you in return?"

"Your thanks is kind enough." Branded said modestly.

"Nonsense! Perhaps a lordship. Would that suit you?"

"Oh, thank you, thank you!" Branded fell to the floor and kissed the floor upon which Princess Celestia rested her hooves.

ooOOoo

"And that's how I become a Lord." Branded said smugly.

There was a heavy sigh from Octavia as she dragged a hoof across her face. "I said the story from when you entered this house."

Lord Branded could've sworn she muttered something like 'cretin' under her breath, but a mare as fine as her wouldn't say foul language! He grinned in response.

"Forgive me, it's just that I'm very proud of my lordship. Now, for my story..."

ooOOoo

Lord Branded smiled as he trotted up to the front door. He knocked and waited patiently. He grinned charismatically when Margherita opened the door with a heavy scowl.

"Margheritaaa! It's been a while!"

"Could have been longer."

"We should catch up later!" He said after trotting past her to enter the festivities. Ponies mingled with each other in the living room, all with various snacks and drinks.

Branded decided it was appropriate to get himself a drink as well, so he headed for the kitchen. To his delightful surprise, he found Mint there pouring herself a drink.

"My dear Mint!"

"Branded." She sighed heavily and tried to slip past him. He didn't let her.

"Tsk, it's Lord Branded."

"If you say so, Branded."

"Leave the poor filly alone, Branded." Thatcher appeared behind him, swirling a glass of brandy.

"My sincerest apologies, Thatcher." Branded stepped aside reluctantly and let Mint slip past him.

"Branded." Thatcher faced him.

"Thatcher." He faced Thatcher.

"It'll be a night to remember."

"It sure will be." He had a feeling both of them had different ideas on what was going to happen. His idea relied solely on Margherita. "Well, old stallion, thank you for inviting me."

"Anytime."

Branded slipped past and headed towards Margherita who was standing by herself.

"Ah, Margherita."

"Branded. Are you enjoying yourself so far?" She was facing her son. He was facing her.

"I am, thank you for asking." He smiled.

"What do you want?"

"Cutting straight to the chase, I see. Well, what I want, as you so crudely put it, is your hoof in marriage." His smile widened.

Her reaction wasn't what he expected. Champagne shot form her beautifully crafted lips as she laughed like a maniac. He stared in shock at this horrid display of disrespect.

"My dear stallion," she said after a while of shame burning under his pelt.. "You...are quite delusional." She giggled and touched his nose almost tenderly. She trotted away and he couldn't do anything but stare after that swishing tail. He stared absently for a while before he could snap himself out of it.

He sighed, his heart feeling heavy. Then his eyes wandered to the cellist playing at the front of the room and his heart took flight. He grinned and came up with a plan. He would wait for her shift to end and he would ask her out. It would end with the two of them married and her, appreciative and caring wife.

He waited patiently and gazed at the mare before him. The way she moved her hips and the way her bow seemed to dance upon the strings of her cello. It was mesmerizing. He did not care for music but this particular piece seemed to soar into his heart and settle there.

Then a flash of lightning destroyed it. He growled angrily at the sudden disruption and didn't seem to notice that the light was gone. He only took notice when Thatcher announced that everything was perfectly normal. That made him pause.

"So, you're saying that when lightning strikes nearby, the lights will always go out?" He asked with a smile. Perhaps he and that mysterious mare could have a romantic moment underneath the thundering stars.

"Yes." Thatcher replied.

"Mmm." He hummed appreciatively

The lights flickered on and business went on as usual. It didn't take long before the next lightning strike happened and the world was cast into darkness again. Branded's thoughts immediately went to snuggling up with that mysterious cellist and whispering sweet nothings into her ear.

The lights flickered on and business did not go on as usual. Poof Matcher lay on the carpet with a knife stuck in his chest. Blood pooled around and Branded felt some bile coming up his throat. He immediately eyed the knife and noticed a curious thing, it was a kitchen knife only used by staff and servants. He should know, he worked as on before he got his law firm job. He quickly glanced around and saw that the only staff member that was here was Van Dime.

"It was the butler!" He exclaimed. The cellist seemed to look at him and his heart fluttered slightly which was quickly replaced by bile. He quickly excused himself and released the horrid taste from his mouth.

When he came back he found out that the cellist had quarantined the house and was now writing a letter to Princess Celestia. He didn't feel more attracted to her than now.

ooOOoo

"Alright, that's enough. Thank you. you may leave now." Octavia said sharply, a bit of red touching her cheeks. Branded grinned.

"As you wish."

Octavia Melody's Tale

Octavia Melody got a letter a week prior to the murder mystery. It said:

Dear Octavia Melody,

My name is Pizza Margherita and I have need of your cellist talents. I'm willing to pay a handsome amount of bits if required. If you consider declining, take some serious thought into it before deciding. I am confident you will accept though.

The address is redacted.

Margherita

Behind the card was the invitation. Octavia knew of the name Margherita although not intimately. She galloped straight to the Office of Investigative Mares, the name is a work in progress, and rummaged through some files. In the back of the office lay several file cabinets with various names and cases. Luckily Vinyl wasn't in so Octavia had the whole space for herself. She quickly found what she was looking for and took it to a table and started reading.

Pizza Margherita.

Ex-leader of the Itailian mafia, retired when she met and married Roof Thatcher. They have a single child, Poof Matcher. There are some unfounded rumors that Poof is not Thatcher's child. Since she has settled down, there hasn't been anything illegal tied back to her.

Octavia leaned back in her chair and pondered for a moment. Perhaps she will go.

***

She arrived at the doorstep at the depicted time. She had her beloved cello on her back, tucked within a sturdy ash wood case. She also had her pink bowtie, never leaving home without it. Octavia took a deep breath and knocked. She barely had to wait a minute before the door opened to reveal the Itailian mare.

"Miss Pizza Margherita I presume?" The cellist bowed.

"You presume correctly. The main festivities will be in the living room, so if you could set up there..." Margherita replied with a somewhat weary tone to her voice.

"And the living room is where?" She didn't let any trace of emotion betray her.

"Down the hall to the right."

"Of course." Octavia took her leave and trotted to find the elusive living room.

When she arrived, several ponies were already there, munching away and drinking alcohol. She would like to have a glass of champagne herself, but technically she was at work. Drinking prohibited. She quickly set up at the front of the living room where a painting of a beautiful foggy mountainscape. She wouldn't mind having that on her wall, or perhaps even in the Office.

She pulled out her cello and bow, placed it on the ground carefully and with practiced ease, Octavia swung up on her backhooves and placed the bow on the strings. She took several more calming breaths and started to play. She closed her eyes and let the music drift her away into another place. She only opened them again once she was coming to the end of the piece and saw that there were even more ponies. One in particular was looking at her with almost foalish awe. It would've embarrassed her, but as said before, she was working.

From her massive mental storage she picked another piece and when the last note played, she counted a total of four seconds before starting the new one. She was a professional, much better at this than that detective nonsense. She left all of that to Vinyl.

Then without warning, lightning struck. The room flickered into darkness. Octavia stopped playing and looked up confused. Around her, guests were clamoring, demanding answers. A stallion answered them in a calm and orderly manner.

"Everypony, please calm down! This is completely normal. Whenever lightning strikes nearby the lights turn off. It will come back on soon enough." His confidence in his words seemed to calm everypony down, Octavia included.

"So, you're saying that when lightning strikes nearby, the lights will always go out?" Said another stallion. There was something in his voice that made Octavia look at him more clearly. He was looking at her in a most undisguised lustful way. It was incredibly disturbing.

"Yes, that's correct." Said the first stallion. She mused that this truly must be normal, since a few moments later, the light crystals came back on. She didn't waste time and went back to playing.

She was slowly getting back into the rhythm when that dreadful storm decided to strike once again casting the house in darkness, once again. She kept on playing, now knowing that this happened all the time. Then surprise and horror filled her when the lights flickered on. There laying on the floor, desecrated with a knife, was the stallion from earlier who had watched her with awe. Something inside her snapped as did her cello.

Octavia lay her darling in a safe place and pulled out yellow tape that she had kept on her at all times since that horrible fiasco at the market. After striping off all the obvious exits, she went back to the living room. Several ponies had seemed to have passed out but most of them were in shock. That was good news.

"Ponies! I am Detective Octavia Melody and in the name of Princess Celestia and the crown, I am quarantining this house until the murderer is found. Anypony who tries to leave will have to suffer the consequence when either Princess Celestia or Princess Luna finds you. You have been warned. Now, rest up. The interviews will begin tomorrow morning."

The guests all muttered between themselves and dragged themselves to guest rooms. One stallion even dragged the unconscious ponies. That was kind of him. Now, the living room was dead quiet, apt, considering the company she was keeping.

First things first, write a letter to Princess Celestia. She'll be able to get Vinyl her flank down here. She then did that. The letter she wrote was on enchanted paper, touched up with dragon fire. When the letter is done, set it alight and the enchanted dragon fire will trigger and send the parchment to Princess Celestia. Luckily there was a fireplace in the living rom that was still lit and roaring.

Octavia bypassed the body and dumped the letter and watched as the remnants flew out a window, despite it being closed. Then he turned her attention to the poor stallion who lay dead.

"So...who are you?"

She made careful note of the position of the body and which way the knife was facing. From deduction, it seemed that the victim was standing close to where she was performing and the killer came up from behind him. They would then stab inwards, striking the poor colt in his belly and then falling to his left. That was all that Octavia got, she was still working on her deduction skills. She was a musician, not a detective! Why was it always her that got roped into these, why couldn't it have been Vinyl?

She grumbled as she packed away her cello and found a place to lie. Her overactive brain kept her up for another hour before finally allowing her to sleep.

***

Octavia awoke groggily and stumbled off her couch and makeshift bed. She rubbed away the sleep and made her way to the living room and to her utter horror, found that it was empty. There were bloodstains on the ground that led into another room, but there was no body and no knife. She groaned and wiped a hoof across her face.

She decided to follow the bloodstains and wasn't all that surprised that the doorway led into a second living room. The blood stains seemed to have pooled around the dead fireplace. Octavia groaned once she noticed a particular large lump of ash in the fireplace.

"Stupid nobles."

There was a ding from the clock. Then a sparkle and a letter dropped in front of her. Octavia quickly skimmed through it and glanced back up at the clock. Shoot. She needed to hustle.

Octavia broke through her yellow tape and hoped to Faust that nopony took that as an invitation to leave. She galloped up the path to the train station and was heaving by the time the train pulled up. The doors opened up and Vinyl stepped down, wearing her iconic grin, headphones, and purple shades. She opened her forelegs like asking for a hug.

"Yes Vinyl, it's good to see you to. Now come on, we've got work to do." She was not going to play. Not today. She quickly turned around and started trotting. Fast. Vinyl kept up and asked a question.

"Right, so I was playing music when lightning struck nearby, causing the lights to go out. When the lights came back on, there was poor Poof, dead on the carpet with a knife in his chest. Truly, he did not deserve such a death." She shook her head, still disappointed in the nobles' lack of ability of common sense.

Vinly raised her eyebrow.

"Yes, his name is Poof. Poof Matcher in full." Octavia paused and saw the detective on the ground, giggling like a foal on candy. "Oh, grow up Vinyl. He just died! Show some respect."

To her credit, she sobered up quite fast and wiped away tears. She put her serious detective face on and kept on trotting. She nodded her apology. Octavia acknowledged it and brought her up to speed.

Vinyl asked another question, this one directed towards Branded.

"Yes, he would be the most obvious suspect, wouldn't he?"

Vinyl did a dance number with her hooves and then broke out laughing. Octavia went beet red and frowned heavily at her. Why does it have to be her. It's always her! It's never Vinyl! Why can't ponies do their crimes somewhere else! Preferably when Octavia wasn't nearby.

"YES, I KNOW! The irony is not lost on me!" The gray mare sped up, huffing and grumbling about annoying unicorns.

***

When she returned, she was overjoyed to find that nopony actually tried to escape. The two of them waited another hour for the other guests to prepare themselves for a day of questions and answers. Then once they were all gathered in the living room, did Octavia speak out.

"Alright, this is Detective Vinyl Scratch and I'm Detective Octavia Melody, we're here to solve the murder of your son, Poof Matcher."

"Yes yes, we know who you two are. Legendary musicians of Canterlot. But what I'm curious about, very curious, is that you claim to be detectives." Duke Embezzle, crippled in his mind, but still sharp as ever. Octavia had the pleasure of meeting him once before when he was running errands for his parents in Canterlot. He actually had a file at the Office.

"Believe it or not, Embezzle."

"That's Duke to you." He huffed, clearly offended.

"Duke...Embezzle, and the rest of you, the two of us have been chosen by Princess Celestia herself. Would you think it wise to question that? I have a direct connection to her in case of emergencies, perhaps I should use it."

"Oh no no, let's not be hasty." Lord Branded said with a desperate look on his face. He seemed to be staring at her specifically. It uneased her.

"Then let us do our jobs and investigate the murder of Poof Matcher." Octavia was getting twitchy. Vinyl took a step back, smart mare.

"Alright, if that's what it takes for you to get off our backs. But I'm telling you! It was the butler! I saw him do it!" Branded exclaimed loudly. The other nobles sighed and muttered, not looking outright hostile nor obedient. This was going to be tricky.

"We'll decide that, not you."

Vinyl made some more gestures, detailing her idea on leading one pony after the other into the dining hall so interrogations could be private.

"Right...Vinyl is right. If you could please come into the dining hall one by one, that way we can interrogate and question about the murder effectively." She then turned around and marched to the dining room, Vinyl in tow.

The two entered the room and sighed. They better get the place ready for all of the guests. Vinyl started placing various objects around the room, the most notable was of a potted plant. This plant was not your ordinary houseplant, this was a plant that could emit spores that would compel you to tell the truth. It was very effective in interviews like this.

While Vinyl was doing that, Octavia set up chairs and tables in a way so that they and the suspect could have an eye to eye, heartfelt, and most importantly private, conversation. Without all of that, the plant might not work.

7 minutes later, they were ready. Octavia glanced at Vinyl to see if she had any preferences, luckily she did. She made a hammer swinging motion as well as a climbing one. Roof Thatcher. Octavia took his name and spoke it out the doors. He trotted all nonchalant.

***

"Vinyl asks for you to recap your entire day, if you please."

"But of course."

An hour later, he finished recapping. The entire time, Octavia listened with a grimace while Vinyl looked like an impassive statue of Celestia. She envied her. When he told the tale of him and his wife disposing of the body, Octavia wanted to scream. She contained herself, there was time for screaming later.

"I can go now? That was it. I fell asleep on the couch after that and then awoke to Royal Guards keeping me on house arrest." Thatcher asked. He was smirking. Good for him.

Vinyl nodded and he stood up. He strolled out of there like he did justice. He did not. It took one look from Octavia for Vinyl to cast a sound insulation spell around the room. Octavia let loose a scream.

"That felt good."

Vinyl nodded like she sympathized.

"So what now?"

She motioned with a hoof. Continue with the next pony.

"Who?"

She lifted a hoof and chomped on it. Pizza Margherita.

Octavia sighed, opened the door once again and called in the mare.

***

"We understand your want in secrets, however it is crucial that you tell us everything in order to solve your son's murder." Octavia said.

"And why would I do that? There are no benefits for me or my husband or any of these ponies, really." Margherita tilted her head in an unconscious manner. Octavia had no other reaction other than dropping her mouth. Seriously, the gall of these ponies!

"Right. So, you do not care for your son?" The gray mare recovered slightly and glared at the high and mighty noble.

"Never have, never will. His death means nothing to me."

"Yet it did, since you and your husband dragged Poof Matcher's body to the fireplace and cremated him. Are those the actions of a pony who claims that her son means nothing to her? I think it would be wise to spare no details." Octavia watched closely to see her reaction. All she did was suck in air more forcefully. Did that mean anything?

"My! I would..." Vinyl's hoof shot out and shushed the mare. Her eyes widened in indignation. Neither detective cared.

"Like I said, it would be wise."

Through the entire story, Octavia felt a searing hatred for the mare. Never had she despised a mare quite like this one here. She was a high born through and through and then took that and brought it to a new level. She felt wrong just standing in the same room as her. It was long and painful but she was finally done with her story.

"You may go now."

"If I was innocent, I would say good luck. If I was guilty, I wouldn't even be here."

"We'll keep that in mind." Octavia tried a smile. It did not work from the looks of it.

"Well, good day then."

"Good day."

The two of them waited for her to exit and then Octavia screamed in frustration again.

"I can't do this, Vinyl! These ponies are insufferable!"

Vinyl held up a hoof and smiled slightly. Everything is under control.

"Yeah right! Maybe let's charge all of them with murder, it would not surprise me if it were actually true. And did you hear what she said? She said the bowling ball had blood on it. She must be the killer."

Vinyl shook her head slowly.

"Oh come on!"

She motioned with a hoof again. This time as if she were important and speaking. Noble Declaration.

"Fiiiiine. I want a raise though."

***

"You want to hear my story? Not whether or not I'm guilty or whether I know who the killer is?" He sounded confused. Hmm, perhaps he wasn't like all those other ponies.

Vinyl shrugged and smiled then moved her legs in many patterns and symbols. Many of which were quite inappropriate. Octavia took the time to glare at her partner before translating.

"What Vinyl is trying to say, excluding unnecessary commentary, is that she would like the full picture. The most obvious suspect might be innocent and the least likely clue might be the biggest."

Vinyl nodded.

"I see. And I assume you have Truth Incense? Odorless, featureless, and noiseless. Perfect tools for getting a suspect to confess."

Vinyl nodded.

"I see. My full story then."

Vinyl nodded.

"Alright."

This story was her favorite out of the three. He was refreshingly honest about everything as well as more analytical than the others. More clues were located to further the case. Octavia even found herself smiling during some parts of the story. Then he finished with a flourish.

"That's all I've got for now. I'll tell you if I have more."

The sincerity behind that sentence confused Octavia somewhat. What was a stallion like him doing with these stuffy highborns?

"Good luck with finding the killer." He got up and left.

"Well, that was surprisingly very helpful. Do we have enough evidence now?" Octavia asked.

Vinyl shook her head and put on a determined expression. She needed more. Something more concrete.

"Alright, who do you want next?"

Vinyl made a circular shape with her hoof and then an oval. Tomato and Mint.

"Alright. Two ponies coming right up."

***

"Our stories? Why, that's easy! I'm..." Tomato started with an excited expression. Octavia cut him off before he could get far into it.

"She wants you to start at the moment you arrived at the Thatcher's residence. And she always wants to hear from both of you."

"Alright..."

The two pony narrative was kind of confusing, but Octavia and Vinyl got the gist of it. This story was much better than that Margherita mare, but it still had an elitist sort of view.

"That's it?" The cellist asked after the two of them stopped talking. It was quite short but they did reveal lots of information. Maybe Margherita should be taking notes.

The two of them nodded. Vinyl approved for the exit.

"Okay, you may go."

"Thank you."

Once again, they waited for the couple to leave before starting a conversation.

"So, what do you think of this Fill character?"

Vinyl raised a hoof to the light and swayed the other hoof underneath the first one. Shady.

"Yeah, thought so too. I don't think he's our killer though..." She paused. "We still probably need to arrest him though, he seems like the pony to commit several crimes."

Vinyl nodded. She made a circle gesture. Bring him in.

"Okay." She trotted over and called out his name. Nopony stepped forward. "Vinyl, he isn't here."

The unicorn in question slammed a hoof down and frowned. Then made a crown with her hooves at her head and then lowered it to her chest. She did it again. Archduke and Archduchess.

***

"Our story. What do you take us for? A court jester?"

"Yes, your story. From when you arrived at the Thatcher's residence."

"I suppose we could do that. Would you like to go first, dear?"

"Oh no, you can go. I insist."

Another nonsensical story later, Octavia wanted to rip out her mane. How does Vinyl do it, sitting there calmly and attentively. The two had delusions of grandeur that baffled the gray mare. How does anypony live like that?

"Wait, that it?" She asked after the two looked at her expectantly. There wasn't that much information in that one, or perhaps there was and she wasn't paying attention over her rage. Both options are quite valid.

"Quite so, it was very eventful." Archduke nodded sadly which baffled Octavia even more.

"Huh, I see. Well, thank you for your time. You may leave now."

"My thanks." The two left with grace befitting their titles and closed the door behind them.

"How are you doing this, Vinyl? How?"

Vinyl shrugged. Practice.

"Oh, screw that!"

Vinyl shrugged again. What do you want me to do?

Octavia sighed and dragged a hoof across her face. "Anything helpful with those two?"

Vinyl poked her cheek. Potentially.

"Alright. Who's next?"

Vinyl made the crown again but this time lowered it even more. Their son.

Octavia called out for Lord Embezzle, and was instead met with Archduchess.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm so sorry. My son has this disease that sometimes leaves him in a catatonic state for a certain amount of time, I don't think he'll be able to answer for a while. Maybe he could be excluded from the questions?"

The cellist looked back at the DJ. She shrugged.

"Alright. Thank you for telling me. So who's next?" The last part was directed at Vinyl.

Vinyl poked her foreleg and smushed her hoof against it hard. Branded.

***

"Lord Branded, we just want to hear your story. Start from when you entered this house. After that, you may leave."

"Before we do all of that, I would like to know your names." He smiled as if that would work.

Octavia glanced at Vinyl again, she was the mare with the final say considering she's the actual detective. The unicorn shrugged.

"Detective Octavia Melody and this is Detective Vinyl Scratch. Now, please tell your story."

"But of course."

Through the story, Octavia's feelings of suspicion quickly turned into disgust and revolt. This stallion was unbefitting of Princess Celestia's kindness! How he claimed the title, she would never know and the more she thought about it, the more she didn't want to know.

"Alright, that's enough. Thank you. you may leave now." She said sharply after he finished his story. She wanted him gone and soon.

"As you wish." He grinned and trotted out of there. The doors closed and Octavia screamed again.

"I'm done. I'm done! No more interviews! I deny it! That stallion was beyond revolting." She shuddered.

Vinyl nodded and created a circle then a triangle then what looked to be a tree. She had enough evidence.

"Oh, thank Faust!"

***

"Everypony! Vinyl has figured out the killer, please be quiet as she reveals who it is. From here on out, everything she says will be translated through me."

"Well this has been quite the evening. Full of twists and turns, lies and deceptions, but I've finally examined all the evidence and have discovered some terrible things. Somepony here has been keeping a secret."

"What?" Archduke said.

"And I know exactly who it is." While Octavia was translating, Vinyl was looking directly at Lord Branded.

Nopony expected for Duke Embezzle to laugh and start stomping his hooves.

"Very good inspector, very good indeed. So you've uncovered the fact that I've been embezzling millions of bits from my business partner, Lord Branded." Embezzle grinned slyly and pointed a hoof at Branded.

The whole room gasped in shock.

"What what?" Branded asked in shock. "How could you do this to me?"

"Haha, the poor fool had no idea until this night. I must confess though that I've been discovered, it brings me no small amount of joy that he now knows that it was me, all along." Embezzle now had a pipe in his hooves and lit a match and attempted to light it.

"Uhm, I didn't know any of that." Vinyl insisted on the 'uhm' part.

"You didn't?" Embezzle looked up as he extinguished the match.

"No, I wasn't going to say that at all."

"Ah. Well......dangit."

"So what were you going to say, inspector?" Archduchess asked, her calm demeanour still calm.

"Well, I have irrefutable evidence that somepony here is not who they say they are." Vinyl trotted over to the Archduke and stared at him long and hard.

He got up, clearly angry and spoke out. "How dare you!"

Vinyl's response was drowned out by Embezzle's laughter and hoof stomping.

"Ha, very good inspector. So we arrive here at last. I knew you were onto me, but I must confess I didn't think you would figure it out. I have been posing for years as the long lost son of the Archduke." Cue gasps and cue smug smile from Embezzle.

"What? You mean you are not my son?" Archduke leaned forwards, confused and hurt.

"No. No, I simply wanted your inheritance."

Archduke gasped and looked up. "I knew it! I knew it, because we have different color...eyes." Octavia looked and confirmed it. Embezzle had green eyes while Archduke had blue.

"Bravo inspector, very...impressive." Embezzle lit another match and prepared to light his pipe.

"Yeah, I didn't know that either."

"Seriously?"

"No. Though to be fair, I probably would have figured that out on me own. Different colored eyes is a dead give away." Archduke gave Vinyl a knowing look.

"Well it seems like I gave myself away there. Again." Embezzle looked downtrodden as his match unlit itself. "Carry on inspector, please don't let me interrupt you."

"Well, it appears that somepony here has blood on their hooves." Octavia rolled her eyes at this, of course somepony had blood on their hooves! Embezzle started laughing and stomping again.

"Aaaah, this time we're on the same page inspector!" Embezzle looked too happy to have been caught. "It was I who murdered the maid, yes." He smiled and pulled out a bloody bowling ball. The others gasped for the fourth time that night. "Irrefutable evidence. Speaking of which, she had irrefutable evidence that I was not the Archduke's son, so naturally she had to be taken care of. 'Course, I didn't realize that I would be revealing that secret myself just a few hours later, but at the time, it seemed very important to keep her quiet." Embezzle was reaching for another match. "Bravo inspector. However, did you trace it back to me?"

"I didn't."

"What."

"Yeah, there's no way I would have figured that one out." Not to mention, nopony's ever mentioned a dead maid.

"Inspector, I'm beginning to wonder if you know how to do your job." Embezzle asked, looking straight up at Vinyl.

"Well, I dunno. So far you've confessed to three crimes." Vinyl said, glancing knowingly at the stallion.

"Touche."

"Inspector, pleaase, tell us what the actual secret is!" Major Tom spoke out.

"Very well. I have discovered..."

"that I have been bribing the prime minister!" Embezzle lit a match with a grin.

"NO!"

"That I impersonated a priest!"

"Noooo."

"That I am not disabled!" Embezzle shook off his dizzied look and stood up with yet another lit match and his pipe.

"Oh myyy." Tom drawled.

Vinyl just shook her head.

Embezzle threw the match to the ground and stomped on it. "Dangit, dangit, dangit!"

"But I have found out that you were responsible for the murder of Poof Matcher!" Vinyl looked very confident in her answer.

"...I had nothing to do with that."

"Really?"

"No, in fact I was out of the country when that happened!" Everypony gave him a confused look. "Committing a totally different crime."

"Oh, well I must've missed something then."

"Ha, indeed!" Embezzle took up his victory smile and reached to light another match. "Looks like the game's to me, inspector."

"Well, I'm still arresting you for those other things." Vinyl took out hoofcuffs and started tying them around Embezzle's hooves.

"But...oh, right" Embezzle hoofed over his pipe to Van Dime.

The two mares walked out of the house pushing Embezzle in front of them and exited the house, heading in the direction of the train station. But before they rounded the corner, they quickly ducked into the bushes much to Embezzle's confusion.

"What's happening?"

"Shush." Octavia's throat was aching from all the rapid fire translating she had to do. This part of the plan Vinyl had enacted was the trickiest part. This was where the culprits revealed themselves, and sure enough, he did.

"I'll hold onto this." It was an unknown voice, one that could only mean two things. Either Fish Fillet or Van Dime. And since Fill had disappeared and since the voice did not have a Caneighdian accent, that only left one pony. "Because I was the one that murdered Poof Matcher! HAHAHAHA!" There were gasps from the others, Thatcher and Margherita being the louder ones. This was Octavia's cue.

She whipped out hoofcuffs and stormed into the house and hoofcuffed the butler before anypony could blink.

"AHA! I WAS RIGHT, it was the butler!" Lord Branded laughed and pointed. Octavia ignored him and pushed the sputtering butler out of the house and followed Vinyl and Embezzle to the train station.

"Another case closed." She smiled to herself and boarded the train with prisoners in tow, ignoring looks from the passengers. It was finally over.

Author's Note

It's finally over. Man, I have never hustled as much as I have done here. Not even school made me hustle this much. You better appreciate this, whodunnit contest!