The Iron Horse: Murderous Machinations

The grandfather clock out in the hall chimed 7 o'clock, the attendees all took their seats, and the servers swiftly presented the first course of the evening’s dinner. A projector displayed the event’s title on a screen at the back of the stage. It would also be used by the presenters who’d brought slides (and the one oddball who insisted he be allowed to use shadow puppets).

As they did, Turing and Gadget took their place just offstage. Gadget went out first, taking the podium:

“Fillies and gentlecolts!” she began, loudly.

And then immediately cringed as feedback shrieked from the speakers and everypony grabbed their ears.

“Ooh, uh, sorry,” she chuckled, blushing profusely. She took a deep breath. “Thank you all for coming tonight to the Trottingham Technical Symposium!” There was a round of applause as Gadget looked over at Turing, who nodded reassuringly. “I am Gadgette Fabienne Giroux, but you can call me Gadget. I am the personal assistant to Mr. Cornelius Vanderbull, who has generously sponsored this event and offered us the use of his wonderful venue, only recently refurbished and electrified!”

She cast a hoof toward the back of the room and everypony’s gaze followed it to where Vanderbull, who stood up from his seat and gave a bow. There was another round of applause, and then he retook his seat.

“I hope you’re all enjoying the appetizers!” Gadget continued. “Chef White Heat of Trottingham is our chef this evening, and he is certain that you will all be pleased with your meals. If you have any requests, please let our servers know. And if there’s something I can do to assist with your presentation, please inform me, and I’ll be glad to help! But I know you didn’t come here to listen to me talk… this Symposium is a celebration of the advancement of science and technology in Equestria, and so I’ll turn it over to the one responsible for this event in the first place: fillies and gentlecolts, please join me in welcoming the Royal Minister of Technology, Turing Test!”

The gathered attendees broke out into loud applause and many rose to their hooves as Turing Test walked out onto the stage, taking the podium from Gadget.

“Thank you, Gadget,” Turing said with a nod of her head. “As Gadget stated, the purpose of this event is to celebrate the advancement of science and technology in Equestria. This is the first of hopefully many other Symposia, and I believe that it will set a positive precedent for future events. Our presenters this evening are among the most innovative and forward-thinking citizens of Equestria, and they will present their ideas, their findings, and their inventions to us. It is my sincere hope that you will have the opportunity to meet future collaborators and return to your homes sufficiently inspired by the possibilities for Equestria’s future.

“As a robot, I am the living result of pioneering minds such as yours, and it is my honor as Minister of Technology to foster the technology that will secure a brighter future for Equestria.” The audience applauded once again and she gave a small bow. “However,” she added, “also as a robot, I am incapable of ingesting food and am therefore envious of you all for your ability to enjoy tonight’s dinner. I calculate the probable chances of your enjoyment at 100%!”

Just then there was some commotion as a pony at the back of the room, at Vanderbull’s table no less, suddenly groaned and got up hurriedly from his seat. Turing saw that it was West Walnut, and she watched as he covered his mouth and suddenly ran for the nearest exit. There was a murmur of concern among the attendees as some of them began to eye their appetizers.

“Correction: 94.7%,” Turing said. This drew a smattering of laughter from the crowd. She was about to ask if someone could check on West Walnut, but she saw Rio Grand shoot up from her own seat and fly out the door, apparently chasing after him, followed by his two bodyguards. Deciding he was in good hooves, she decided to continue her speech…

“With that, we will now commence the presentations,” she continued, addressing the crowd. “Please consult the programs found at your tables for the finalized schedule of presentations. Presenters should prepare themselves 10 minutes before their scheduled time, and each presentation should be kept to no more than 10 minutes each. Now, if the first presenters will take their place, we will smoothly commence this evening’s main event!”

No sooner had she said that when the lights in the ballroom briefly flared bright enough to be blinding. Several bulbs on the chandelier popped and then all the lights went dead at once, enshrouding them all in almost total darkness.

A clamor of confusion and a roar of “Oh, for Minos’s sake!” from Vanderbull filled the air. Turing raised her head, hearing a distinctive, heavy thump from somewhere above the ballroom before turning to face the panicking crowd. The only light in the blackened ballroom was from the faint glow of moonlight through the curtains at the back of the ballroom, a few unicorns’ horns, and the glow of Turing’s eyes as she peered out into the crowd.

“Please remain calm, everypony,” Turing said calmly, her voice’s volume now loud enough to be heard by the whole crowd as she switched her eyes to night vision. “There seems to be a power outage, but I am certain that we will re-establish illumination shortly.”

“Confound it all!” snarled Vanderbull. “All that money spent electrifying this place and now—”

“Don’t worry, sir!” Gadget exclaimed, saluting in Vanderbull’s direction (despite the fact that nopony but Turing could see her do it). “I know where the fuse box is! I’ll get it fixed in no ti—WAAUGH!”

She gave a yelp as she underestimated how close the edge of the stage was and, in her haste to fix the lighting, promptly tumbled head over hooves off of it, landing on the floor with a thump that reverberated through the darkened room.

“Gadget? Are you injured?” Turing asked, seeing Vanderbull immediately get to his hooves.

“Ugh… nope, nope, I’m fine, just glad you all couldn’t see that,” she chuckled in embarrassment. “Just stay here, everypony… I’ll be back in a few minutes!”

Turing watched as Gadget swiftly - but carefully - navigated her way around the ballroom, heading toward the exit that led into the main foyer of the hotel, which was apparently just as dark. The power must have gone out in the entire hotel, she reasoned.

She hopped down from the stage and went to Maud Pie. “Maud Pie, are you unharmed?” she asked, her eyes bathing the gray mare in violet light.

Maud nodded. “I’m fine. My croissant was pretty stale, but that’s about it. I’ll complain to the chef later.”

Turing tilted her head. “Maud Pie, no croissants were served at this event,” she said. She looked at the table. “Maud Pie… where is your napkin?”

Maud blinked very slowly. “Oh,” she said. “Well, in that case, never mind complaining to the chef. Actually, could you give him my compliments? That was the second tastiest napkin I’ve ever had.”

“I will consider your request. However, I also request that, until lighting is restored, you refrain from ingesting more things outside the traditional definition of food.”

“Okay. I’ll wait until the lights come back on before I start eating the tablecloth.”

Turing stared at her, her ears squeaking on their hinges. “Analysis: You are the worst.”

Maud smirked. “Maybe. But I bet you feel pretty silly for telling me I didn’t need to bring my phosphorescent rock collection. A chunk of willemite calcite sure would come in handy about now.”

A few minutes later, the lights returned, much more dimly than before, with numerous lights on the chandelier now black and totally dead.

The attendees muttered among themselves, pleased that they could now see, even if the lighting was uneven.

Vanderbull rose to his hooves and held up his arms, motioning for them all to remain calm. “Just a moment, my friends,” he said with a somewhat strained smile. “I’ll have the damaged bulbs replaced, but, in the meantime, please enjoy your dinners, and we will continue the symposium shortly with no more mishaps.”

Turing Test nodded to him and was about to offer her assistance when a sound sliced through the air in the momentary silence.

It was a shrill, piercing scream of terror, the sort that one could feel as much as hear.

And that scream belonged to Gadget.

“Gadget!” Vanderbull exclaimed, turning immediately and rushing toward the door.

Turing Test was momentarily hot on his heels before swiftly overtaking him as she followed the sound. She bounded down the hotel’s hallway, her heavy metal hooves thudding thunderously against the wooden floor. She went past West Walnut, who was sweating and leaning up weakly against a wall as his two guards mopped his brow. She dashed past a few dazed-looking service staff members and a waiter who was busily cleaning up a spilled tray of Waldorf salad he’d dropped in the darkness. She swiftly turned and went into the foyer, running toward the sound of the screaming, which had now transformed into frantic calls for help. The sound was coming from just outside, so she dashed through the front door and out into the main walkway leading up to the hotel’s entrance.

Gadget was there casting about in a panic, still screaming for help. Her eyes were wild and her groomed mane was now mussed and disheveled. A bright red blotch was on her dress.

Gadget turned when she saw Turing Test arrive, and it was then that Turing finally caught sight of the cause of her screams.

The body of a pony was sprawled on the tile walkway. He was a pegasus stallion wearing a shirt and tie with a jacket pinned with a few medals. His moist eyes stared up unseeingly at the night sky above, his mouth slightly agape. There was a wound in his chest and blood stained his shirt and trickled down into a small, sickly red pool that was now smeared across the stones. Lying in the blood was a small knife with a blade stained red halfway to the hilt and a white handle that Turing realized was carved out of some kind of bone.

She was about to administer first aid, but she stopped when her optic sensors scanned the body. The blood still in his veins was already still. His body was still warm, but already cooling. His chest was unmoving, and she could hear no heartbeat.

Either he was dead, or her internal chronometer had stopped.

She stood there a moment, processing the sight as Gadget seized her by the shoulders.

“Turing!” she shrieked. Then, attempting to catch her breath, she gasped, “I… I found him like this! I… oh, Celestia, we need a doctor! Turing, please, you have to—”

“It is too late, Gadget,” Turing said. “He is dead.”

A moment later, Vanderbull and the police arrived, with several of the attendees as well, all drawn to investigate the sound of the screams.

They all froze when they saw the body. Vanderbull’s jaw dropped open at the sight. A mare in the crowd screamed and looked away. Inspector Dupon trotted forward, narrowing his eyes as he took in the scene. Chief Inspector Neighstrad pushed his way through the crowd, shouting, “All right, all right, stand aside!” before he too began to examine the scene.

Vanderbull’s gaze moved from the corpse to his assistant. “Gadget…?” he breathed.

“Sir!” she cried, and immediately burst into tears as she ran to him. “Oh, sir, it’s horrible!” she managed to say through her sobs. “I fixed the lights, b-but the back door locked behind me, so I… I came around to the front, and then I tripped and… and when I looked back, I… he…”

And then she completely broke down, burying her face into Vanderbull as he knelt, taking her into a comforting embrace.

“There there, my girl, it’s all right,” he told her softly. “There’s nothing to fret about.”

“Well, I’d hardly say that,” Neighstrad grunted. “Seems we’ve got a murder on our hooves!”

Several of the crowd gasped and began chattering fearfully. Several more attendees arrived to see what had happened at they began pushing closer to view the grisly scene.

“Right, lads, I want this area secure!” Neighstrad barked to his officers. “This is now a crime scene! Everypony, stand back! Constable Clipper, go tell everypony back in the hotel to stay put where they are! I don’t want anypony missing or milling about ‘til we’ve had our chance to investigate!”

The other officers did as they were told. Dupon continued to look around silently, almost oblivious to Neighstrad as his eyes wandered over the scene.

After a moment, he walked over to Turing Test. “Minister,” he began, “did you happen to see anypony else when you arrived?”

Turing shook her head. “Negative. The only individuals present were Gadget and myself.” After a beat, she added, “And the dead pegasus, at least in the physical sense.”

Then there was a commotion as someone began pushing through the crowd. Turing and Dupon turned and saw that Sea Dweller was there, forcing her way through.

“Miss, please stay back,” Neighstrad called to her. “We’ve got this under control, so there’s no need to—”

Then Sea Dweller gasped and an anguished scream escaped her throat: “Beacon!”

She broke through and almost made it past the officers before a pair of them managed to hold her back. Still, she struggled against them, reaching out with a hoof as she screamed again and again.

“Let me go!” she shouted. “He’s my friend, I know him! Oh stars, Beacon, please…!”

Neighstrad trotted up to her. “You know the deceased?”

Her eyes were filled with tears as she nodded emphatically. “That’s Beacon Bomber. He’s my best friend from Filly Hawk. He… I…”

And then she slumped, crying bitterly as the two officers gently set her down.

“Beacon Bomber was an expected guest to the symposium,” Turing Test explained to Neighstrad. “However, he informed me that he would most likely be delayed and arrive late.”

“Well, seems he was right about the late part,” Neighstrad said with a grin.

Turing stared at him. Dupon shook his head and rubbed his temple. Sea Dweller glared at him hatefully. And somewhere in the gathered crowd, Turing heard Maud Pie say, “Oh. I get it.”

“Ehem, er… regardless, it seems clear that Mr. Bomber was dispatched during the power outage. Poor bloke was stabbed right in the heart.”

“Yes, and with a rather peculiar weapon,” Dupon added as he knelt near the corpse, peering down at the blade. “This appears to be a letter opener. And the handle is made of ivory, if I'm not mistaken.”

Sea Dweller gasped and her sobs began anew.

Neighstrad, meanwhile, moved over to Vanderbull. “Mr. Vanderbull, your assistant there said that this hotel was only recently electrified. Who would be familiar with that system?”

“Well, the staff had some training, but Gadget personally oversaw its installation. She knows it better than anypony here, so I’m sure she could answer your questions.”

Gadget nodded weakly and raised her head. “That’s true, sir,” she said.

“And when the power went out, could you explain what steps you took to restore it?”

“Well, let’s see… the power went out, and then I fell off the stage—”

“Kindly skip the part we all saw, or at least heard, Miss,” Neighstrad said tersely.

“Right. Um, I saw that the power was out for the entire hotel, so I went out the back door and down to the cellar where the fuse box is kept. I needed to replace a few fuses, but we have a supply of them, so I did it as fast as I could.”

“What, in the dark?”

“I memorized where they all are,” she said, raising her head.

“And then?” Neighstrad asked.

“Well, I went back the way I came, but the back door was locked, so I ran around to the front and…” She swallowed. “...And then I found him like this.”

“Hmm,” Neighstrad murmured. “You just ‘found’ him, you say?”

“Well, I… um, I tripped over something, and when I looked back, I… I saw…”

“Ah. You tripped over the corpse,” Neighstrad surmised.

“Pardon me, Chief Inspector,” Dupon said. “But there seem to be some abrasions on the body around his head and legs. Minister, you have keen senses, do you not?”

“It would be more accurate to say I have keen sensors, but if you are asking, I can examine the body.”

Dupon nodded and Turing Test gave the body a visual scan. After a moment - and a very unnecessary chime - she raised her head. “Confirmed. He appears to have blunt trauma on the right side of his head and upper body and abrasions that are consistent with a rough fall. I am unable to determine the exact cause of those injuries however.”

Neighstrad took a look as well. “Yes, yes… injuries are consistent with assault.”

“It would appear so,” Dupon agreed.

“So, he was attacked and then stabbed with the letter opener, where he collapsed on the spot and died,” Neighstrad said, nodding to himself. “And this all occurred during the power outage? That timing seems right, wouldn’t you say?”

Both Turing and Dupon nodded.

“I can confirm based on my observations that he only expired a few minutes prior to my arrival,” Turing added.

Neighstrad pursed his lips. “Very fortuitous timing,” he muttered. “Does anypony here have an idea of how the power might have gone out? Could somepony have cut it?”

“If they had literally cut the power lines, it could not have been so quickly restored,” Turing stated. “Judging by the sudden brightening of the lights and the popping of so many bulbs, the most likely cause would be a power surge.”

“Power surge, eh? And how could that have been caused?”

“A malfunction of the hotel’s generator is one possibility. But another is that one of the devices plugged into the power system could have caused it.”

“Caused it… or perhaps been made to cause it?” Neighstrad asked, raising an eyebrow.

Turing’s ears twitched. “That is theoretically possible, Chief Inspector.”

“And do you know who here has their device plugged into the system?”

“Yes, there are several ponies who—”

“And is one of them Miss Gadget?” he asked, jerking his head in Gadget’s direction.

“...Affirmative,” Turing said after a beat, tilting her head at his question.

“Then I think that’s enough for me,” Neighstrad said with a sly grin. “It’s obvious what happened here: that young mare, Miss Gadget, rigged her device to short out the power supply, and under cover of darkness and with the perfect excuse that she needed to repair the power system, slipped outside, dispatched Beacon Bomber, then restored the power only to put on this whole performance!”

Gadget stared. “W…what?” she whimpered.

Vanderbull drew himself up. “Just what are you insinuating, Neighstrad?!” he demanded.

“I’m not insinuating, Mr Vanderbull, I’m accusing!” He thrust his hoof out, pointing at Gadget. “Miss Gadget, I hereby accuse you of the murder of Beacon Bomber! Officers, place her under arrest!”

“N-no!” Gadget cried, drawing back. “No, no, I would never—”

“Save your breath, Miss,” Neighstrad scoffed. “You’ll need it to plead your case. After all, we’ve caught you red-hooved! Or, as it stand, red dressed.”

“Red…?” Gadget looked down and finally noticed the red bloodstain on her dress. She blanched. “Mr. Vanderbull,” she whispered shakily, her face turning green, “I want to apologize in advance for my unprofessional conduct.”

“Unprofessional conduct? Gadget, what do you me—”

And then Gadget threw up all over his hooves.

To be continued…