Rio Grand

When Dupon knocked on the door, it was immediately answered with a casual holler, “Door’s unlocked, come on in!”

Turing and Dupon walked and saw Rio Grand reclining easily on her room’s bed. She was sitting up slightly, propping herself up on a pillow, her hat pulled down so the brim covered her eyes. Her forelegs were folded behind her head, her hind legs crossed one over the other.

“Good evening, Rio Grand,” Turing said. “If it is all right, Inspector Dupon and I have inquiries for you.”

“I’d be glad to.” She didn’t raise her head as she spoke. “I figured you’d show up to talk to me eventually.”

“Really?” Dupon asked. “And why is that?”

Rio smirked. She raised her head this time, letting a blue eye peek out from beneath the brim of her hat.

“Because Vanderbull’s night is ruined, his Girl Friday’s neck is on the line, and it just so happens that the last pony he wanted to see here tonight is available to point his big, meaty fingers at.” She chuckled. “I’m more surprised it took you this long to get here with all the nonsense he probably told you about me. I figured you’d come talk to me first!”

She turned, propping her head up with one foreleg as she lay sprawled on her side. She lazily draped her other foreleg on her body, her hoof on her thigh. She wore a confident smirk as she sized the pair of them up.

Turing detected Dupon’s pulse as it momentarily sped up, and she could guess why. She had little knowledge of aesthetic beauty, but she could recognize that Rio Grand was attractive. Indeed, were she in a noir detective story like the ones Rarity had recommended, she might have made a remark along the lines of, ‘Rio Grand had the kind of body that made stallions crane their necks and other mares mentally ill. If it really is true that hips don’t lie, Rio Grand’s hips could be in the running for the next Element of Honesty.’

But she reminded herself that she was not a character in that type of story, as evidenced by the complete lack of sultry saxophone music playing in the background (not that she couldn’t have imitated it).

“Well, you two lovelies can go ahead and ask me anything you like,” she said, idly scratching her neck. “I know I could ask for a fancy lawyer or something, but I’ve got nothing to hide.” She licked her lips idly. “Nothing at all.”

“Yes, well,” Dupon began, clearing his throat, “as you’ve guessed, Mr. Vanderbull already gave us his estimation of you and your character. However, perhaps you could give us your own account to set the record straight?”

“I’d be delighted!” Rio said with a broad smile. “How’d you like me to start?”

“A simple explanation of who you are would be sufficient,” Turing said.

“Well, that might be tricky,” she said with a smirk. “There’s nothing ‘simple’ about me, Minister. But I’ll oblige as best I can…”

She sat up and ran her tongue around her cheek as she considered her answer.

“I was born and raised in Neigh Mexicolt,” she said. “The city of Al-buck-querque, to be exact. My parents always encouraged me to do whatever caught my interest, so I did a bit of everything: studied math and science, became a chess champion, black belt in judo, gymnastics, learned agriculture, biology, botany, horticulture, architecture, hippology, and so on. But my real passion was dance.”

At that, she suddenly rolled forward off the bed before springing to a position of standing on her hind legs, her wings spread and her hat still miraculously still on her head.

“I grew up knowing the Neigh Mexicolt hat dance,” she began, tossing her hat down and doing a series of circular steps around it, “the flamenco,” here she did a flourishing dance, sweeping her foreleg around and then bringing it up to clap her hooves to mimic the sound of castanets, “as well as the traditional square dance… the Buffalo stomp… ballroom… jazz step… tap dance… oh, and a decade of ballet.”

She demonstrated each of these in turn. Near the end, her spread wings lifted her into the air, and she did several twirls, spinning as effortlessly as a feather on the wind as she danced for them before finally setting back down with a flourish.

She flashed a smile as she looked up at the two of them.

“My my! Quite impressive, wouldn’t you say, Minister?”

“Affirmative. And somewhat surprising, as I only knew of you from your application regarding the hydroelectric dam you wished to demonstrate.”

“Glad to get to know you,” Rio said, offering her hoof to Turing. “And even if you weren’t a fan of mine, Minister Turing, I sure am one of yours!”

“Is that so?” Turing asked as she accepted Rio’s hoof and shook it. “For what reason?”

“Well, let me take the long way around to answer that. See if there’s one thing you need to know about me more than anything else, it’s this: I love my home. Most Equestrians think we’re just some dusty region filled with tumbleweeds and ranches and such. They don’t appreciate the beauty of the desert, the wildlife, and the ponies who live all along the Great River. Life is calm and peaceful out there, but it can get tough during the lean times. I got famous for winning dance championships and making a name for myself, but the more famous I became, the more ponies I met. And the more I learned about how they lived, the more I wanted to make things easier for them all. Ease their burdens, lighten their load, that sort of thing.

“Technology can do that for them,” she said, locking eyes with Turing. “And I knew when you became the Minister of Technology that you could help lead the way toward new innovations. All those scientists and inventors with new funds were crawling out from the rocks they’d been living under to start building fancy new machines… and that’s when I heard about some fella called Elephant Butte… yeah, go ahead, make all the jokes you want.”

Turing tilted her head. “Apologies, but I do not know any elephant jokes,” she said.

Rio laughed. “Minister, you’re all right!” she said, still chuckling. “Hooboy… anyway, he made some proposal to the city council in Al-buck-querque about a new hydroelectric dam. It didn’t get a lot of attention at first, but when I caught wind of it, I decided to help him out and get some traction going. It really looked like we were getting the support we needed and even found just the right spot for it! Our coalition was ready to make a deal with the Canter Fe Railroad Line for the land, and we figured we were on our way to electrifying the whole valley!”

Her expression darkened.

“And that’s when that oversized bovine Vanderbull showed up and bought the Canter Fe line. Those snakes who ran it knew we needed the land, but they just ignored all that when Vanderbull plopped a big enough bag of bits on their desks. And all just so he could have his trains running to yet another corner of Equestria.” She sighed. “But unlike the Canter Fe folks, he wasn’t willing to sell or even lease the land to build the dam. After all we put into the project, to see it wither away like that… well, let’s just say it didn’t sit right with me, and I decided that I wasn’t going to take it lying down.”

“Is that why you chose to harass Mr. Vanderbull?” Turing asked.

“‘Harass?’ Last I checked, peaceful protest was still legal,” she said airily. “We petitioned him, let him know about the benefits for everyone living there, and he ignored us. So, since being nice about things wasn’t working, I didn’t see anything wrong with putting a little… pressure on him, letting him know that his actions had consequences.”

“And did that include filling his room with cacti?” Dupon asked.

“Oh, he mentioned that?” She grinned. “Guess it really stuck in his craw, huh? Well, I won’t lie: it was my idea, and I thought it was a real hoot. Heard he started raging, started knocking them around and chucking them out of his room like crazy!” She laughed. “I wish I’d been there to see it!”

“Mr. Vanderbull discovered that he was allergic to some of those plants,” Turing said. “Were you aware that they were toxic?”

“I wasn’t trying to give that fella a rash, if that’s what you’re asking,” she replied with a shrug. She reached under her bandana, adjusting it. “But, to be totally honest… yeah, I knew a few of them were. Like I said, I studied botany, and I know more about the plants in Neigh Mexicolt than most. But I didn’t think he’d go and touch them himself! I mean, that’s on him, not me. After all, they’re cactuses! They’re simple plants that just want to grow and do their own thing… unless you try to mess with them. If you do, well…”

She narrowed her eyes, her expression hardening.

“...Just like any living creature, you mess with ‘em, they’ll defend themselves.”

Dupon raised an eyebrow. “Duly noted, Miss Rio,” he said. “Then perhaps Turing and I should be equally candid: you clearly have a grudge against Mr. Vanderbull. We are curious if that grudge extended to disrupting the event he sponsored.”

If the intimation that she was a murder suspect disturbed Rio Grand, it wasn’t evident from her reaction. She just chuckled and shook her head.

“You think I’d kill somepony just to make things awkward for Vanderbull?” she asked. “Don’t be silly. I would never have hurt poor Beacon.”

Turing raised her head. “‘Poor Beacon?’ Your manner of speaking suggests that you were familiar with him,” she stated.

“Oh, I knew him, all right,” Rio said. She bit her lip and suppressed a chuckle. “In the classical sense of the word.”

Dupon’s eyes widened slightly.

Turing looked back and forth between them for a moment. Then it dawned on her, and her LED eyes became lightbulb shaped.

“Ah!” she declared, raising a hoof. “You are implying that you had intercour—”

“Yes, Minister, I believe that is her meaning,” Dupon said, massaging his temples.

Rio Grand laughed heartily. “Aw, Minister Turing, you’re adorable!” she managed to say between laughs. “But yeah… I knew him. I met him in a bar one night in Coltsbad. Poor fella was down on his luck, and I thought he needed a friend - and it didn’t hurt that he was good looking to boot - and we struck up a conversation. He was some big hero back in his hometown, not unlike yours truly, but he had to quit his search and rescue job when his ticker started having issues. I guess he was on a journey to do a little soul searching and see what else there was to see around Equestria outside of his hometown.”

She smiled at the memory. “He was a fun guy. Nice, funny, told great stories… I’m not some floozy, but I admit, he got to me. Only problem was, uh… well, we were in the middle of, uh… it, and he had to stop because his heart was going a bit too fast.”

“Were you upset?” Turing asked.

“Just disappointed,” Rio sighed. “And if you’re implying I put a knife in the guy’s chest because he couldn’t perform, Minister, then forget it. If I was prone to that sort of thing, I would have filled a whole graveyard around my university before my college graduation.”

Dupon coughed. “So, that was the last time you saw Beacon Bomber?” he asked. “Before his death, I mean.”

“Actually, I did see him one more time,” she said. “He had some fancy new heart surgery and was training his strength back up. He said he wanted to fly along part of the Great River and asked me to be his guide. I agreed, and so we flew together for a while. I said he seemed plenty healthy to me, he said he’d be glad to show me just how healthy and, well…”

“Ah. Intercourse,” Turing said. Then she paused and looked to Dupon. “Correct?”

“Yes, Minister,” he groaned.

“Intercourse!” Turing declared proudly.

“Yep. And I can attest, his heart was working just fine,” she smirked.

“In short,” Dupon said quickly, “you would say that you had a favorable relationship with Beacon Bomber.”

She nodded, her expression turning somber. “Yeah. He was a nice boy, and he didn’t deserve to die. But why don’t you just ask me your real question straight out?” she asked. Her gaze slid over toward Turing. “Go ahead, Minister.”

“Very well,” Turing said. “Rio Grand, did you murder Beacon Bomber?”

Rio smiled. “No,” she said flatly. “I didn’t kill him.”

Turing watched her closely. Then she turned to Dupon and gave a short shrug.

But Dupon frowned. “And you had no wish to disrupt the symposium?” he asked.

“Not by murdering somepony!” she snapped.

“That’s not actually what I asked,” Dupon said, narrowing his eyes.

Rio rolled her eyes. “For pity’s sake… no, Inspector, I didn’t want to disrupt the symposium. I wanted to show everypony here my model for the hydroelectric dam. And at the end of my presentation, after extolling its virtues, I intended to explain to everypony present that it was Vanderbull who was preventing it from becoming a reality.” She sighed. “Guess I won’t get that chance now.”

“Then you are saying that you have done nothing wrong?” Turing asked.

Rio crossed her forelegs. “Haven’t I already answered that?”

Turing nodded, but Dupon placed a hoof on her shoulder.

“Actually,” he said, “you have not. Would you mind answering the question, just for the record?”

Rio blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Have you done anything wrong tonight?”

She chuckled. “I already told you both: I didn’t kill Beacon!”

But then Turing raised her head.

“Thank you for your answer, Rio Grand,” she said. “We will be going now. Inspector Dupon, may I speak to you outside?”

“Certainly,” Dupon replied.

“Well, glad to have you visit!” Rio said, waving a hoof casually as she reclined on her bed once more. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you!”

They shut the door behind them and went up the hallway.

“She does not appear to be lying about Beacon Bomber,” Turing said. “Once more, it is possible that she is a very accomplished liar, but she was forthcoming in her information about her hostility toward Mr. Vanderbull and her intentions for this evening. However…”

“...She is definitely hiding something,” Dupon said.

Turing froze. Then she nodded. “Correct,” she replied. “I am not certain how you knew, but when you pressed her about doing something wrong, her pulse quickened and her gaze became notably less focused. And she never directly answered the question.”

“That last part is actually what tipped me off,” he said. “Minister, she seems to be a bit more familiar with who you are and your capabilities compared to either Sea Dweller or West Walnut. I suspect she knows about your ability to read ponies and thus framed her answers to avoid lying directly.”

“Then you believe her when she says that she is not the murderer?” Turing asked.

“It’s difficult to say; I believe she did not deliver the killing blow,” he said, “but that does not mean that she isn’t involved.”

Turing considered this. “Unfortunately, we have not yet determined who perpetrated the crime, Dupon,” she said. “And we have exhausted our list of primary suspects. If we are unable to solve the case soon…”

“There is no need to despair for your friend just yet. This just means that we have more work to do. Therefore, I propose we quit wasting time on speculation and find a bit more evidence. Follow me, Turing; let’s see if we can tease out the whole truth…”

To be continued…

Author's Note

Illustration of Rio Grand by Colby “Greenfinger” Green.

Hey folks, as the story rolls on, just a reminder that if you’re enjoying the tale and the mystery, feel free to leave a comment. It’s really encouraging and it means a lot to your friendly fellow fanfic fabricators to know our work is appreciated!

And if you have more guesses about “whodunnit,” remember to use those spoiler tags!

Thanks everyone for your support so far!

Oh, and one quick, obvious reference drop for our sultry pegasus’s namesake: