SPOILER WARNING: This Ponified episode contains heavy reference to the BBC Series Sherlock's 2nd episode, The Blind Banker. DO NOT READ IF YOU OBJECT TO THESE SPOILERS! Sherlock © the BBC
All MLP Characters © Hasbro. Unofficial names used where real names are unknown.

The bank in question turned out to be a whole lot fancier than most banks. Applejack had been expecting an older stone and mortar building; instead, a modern construct loomed above them as they walked in the door. “Yes, when you said we were going to the bank…” Twilight didn't answer. She was observing everything: A series of clocks on the wall, displaying times from around the world; security gates to certain areas; a gilded 42 on part of the structure; the logo of the investment firm that used the building: Rich/Shores. The two ponies took an escalator up a floor to the main desk. Twilight walked up and gave her name. “Twilight Sparkle.”

***

“Twilight Sparkle.” A red maned unicorn walked into the office they'd been ushered into. She extended a hoof in greeting.

“Moondancer.” Twilight shook the hoof.

“How are you?” Moondancer asked. “How long's it been, eight years, since I last laid eyes on you?”

Twilight avoided the question by way of introduction. “This is my friend, Applejack.”

“Friend?” The redheaded unicorn glanced askance at Applejack.

“Colleague,” Applejack amended quickly, extending her own hoof. Why did this keep happening?

“Oh.” Moondancer took the proffered hoof. “Right,” she said, glancing at Twilight. She released the earth pony's hoof and walked around the desk to sit in the largest chair. “Grab a chair. Need anything? Coffee, water?”

“No,” Applejack assured her. She and Twilight sat down opposite.

“No?” The ginger unicorn waved her secretary away. “We're all good here, thanks.”

“So, you're doing well” Twilight commented. “You've been abroad a lot.”

“Well, some,” Moondancer admitted.

“Flying all the way around the world, twice in a month?” Twilight pressed.

The other unicorn laughed. “Right. You're doing that thing,” she said, pointing at Twilight. “We were at school together,” she explained to Applejack, “and this pony had a trick she used to do.”

“It's not a trick,” Twilight objected.

Moondancer ignored this and continued her story. “She could look at you and tell you your whole life story.”

“Yes,” Applejack said. “I've seen her do it.”

“Creeped out everypony. We hated her.” Moondancer leaned back in the chair. “You'd come down to breakfast in the formal hall and this freak would know you'd been getting it on the previous night.”

“I simply observed,” Twilight said measuredly.

“Well go on, enlighten me,” Moondancer urged. “Two trips a month, flying all the way around the world? You're quite right. Now how could you tell?” Twilight opened her mouth to answer, but the other unicorn cut her off. “You're going to tell me there was a stain on my tie from some special kind of ketchup you can only buy in Manehattan?

“No, I-”

“Or it was the dust on my clothes?” Moondancer continued, ignoring the attempt to explain.

“I was just chatting with your secretary outside,” Twilight said slowly. “He told me.” Applejack looked at her oddly. Why had Twilight lied?

Moondancer laughed. Twilight returned this with a wan smile. The mirthful moment ended abruptly as Moondancer became more serious. “I'm glad you could make it over,” she said. “We've had a break-in.”

***

Naturally, Twilight had insisted on seeing the scene. Moondancer led them through one of the trading floors. “Fil' Rich's office, the bank's former chairpony,” she told them. “The room's been left here like a sort of memorial. Somepony broke in, late last night.”

“What'd they steal?” Applejack asked.

“Nothing. Just left a little message.” Moondancer unlocked the door to the office with a swipe card. Inside, a desk sporting a brass manticore, nameplate, and stationery occupied the center of the room. Of more interest, however, was the framed portrait that looked out onto the trading floor. A yellow line had been spray painted over its mouth, giving the appearance that the former chairpony had been bridled. To the left of the portrait, on the wall, another symbol had been sprayed onto the wall; a line over an upside down horseshoe, it looked like. Twilight gazed intently at the symbols. After a moment, Moondancer led them back to her office.

“Sixty seconds apart,” she said, pulling up the images from the security camera on her computer. In the earlier still, the portrait was unblemished; one minute later, the symbols were there. “So, somepony came up here in the middle of the night, splashed paint around, and left within a minute.”

“How many ways into that office?” Twilight asked.

“Well, that's where this gets really interesting.” She led them out to the main security desk and showed them a diagram. Red dots indicated sensors at every doorway. “Every door that gets opened in this bank, it gets logged, right here. Every walk-in closet, every toilet.”

“That door didn't open last night?” Twilight's question wasn't so much a question as it was a statement.

Moondancer nodded. “There's a hole in our security. Find it, and we'll pay you. Five figures.” She hovered a check in front of Twilight. “This is an advance. Tell me how they got in, there's a bigger one on its way.”

“I don't need an incentive, Moondancer,” Twilight said icily. She walked away to have another look at the scene. Applejack was left gaping at the detective's stupidity. Neither of them were steadily employed, and she was turning down a commission?

“She's, uh…she's kidding, obviously,” she assured the banker. “Could I look after that for her?” Moondancer gave the earth pony the check. “Thanks.” Applejack looked at the numbers. She exhaled in surprise. That was a sizable advance.

***

Back in the vandalized office, Twilight was snapping pictures with her phone, especially of the symbols. She mentally compared them to ones she was familiar with, but found none. Abandoning the mystery of the message for the moment, she walked over to the window. One set of blinds was not adjusted the same way as the others. She furled it, and saw that the window behind it was in fact a door, leading out onto a ledge. She pulled it open and stepped outside. Carefully, she edged to the end of the ledge and looked down. A straight vertical drop, broken only by the ribs of the building. She glanced around, the wind whipping her mane, taking note that the ledge ran all the way around the building, all the way to the sloped front. She walked back inside. How the vandal got in, solved. Why they had broken in here, also obvious. As for who this message was for... Twilight left the office and headed back onto the floor. She edged behind the Manehattan desk, and peered up until she could see where Fil' Rich's office was. The only thing she could see of it was the name placard by the door. She continued down the row, repeating the process at each desk. None of the rows closest fit, so she continued back. Finally, after ducking into another office, she was able to see the portrait, painted bridle clearly visible. A quick check of the placard on the door showed that this was the Horn Kong desk, headed by Vladimir Blueblood. With a bit of magic, Twilight slid the name card out of its holder and pocketed it, then trotted off to find Applejack. Now, she had a lead.

***

“'Two trips around the world this month,'” Applejack quoted as they stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby. “You didn't ask her secretary, you said that just to irritate her.” Twilight grinned mischievously as the earth pony asked, “How did you know?”

“Did you see her watch?” the unicorn asked.

“Her watch?”

“Time is right, but the date was wrong,” Twilight explained. “Said two days ago. Crossed the dateline twice, but she didn't alter it.”

“Within a month? How'd you get that?” Applejack asked as they stepped onto an escalator down.

“New Yearling. Only came out this February.”

“Okay,” Applejack said. She pointed back up the escalator. “So do you think we should sniff around here for a bit longer?”

“I got everything I need to know already, thanks,” Twilight replied.

“Oh?”

“That graffiti was a message. Somepony at the bank, working on the trading floors. We find the intended recipient, and…”

“They'll lead us the pony who sent it,” Applejack finished.

Twilight smirked. “Obvious.”

“Well, there's three hundred ponies up there,” the earth pony pointed out. “Who was it meant for?”

“Pillars,” Twilight said cryptically.

“What?”

“Pillars and the screens,” the unicorn elaborated. “Very few places you could see that graffiti from. That narrows the field considerably. And of course, the message was left at 11:34 last night. That tells us a lot.”

“Does it?” The two stepped out of the front door of the bank and onto the sidewalk.

“Traders come to work at all hours,” Twilight continued. “Some trade with Horn Kong in the middle of the night. That message was intended for somepony who came in at midnight.” She brandished the name card she'd swiped. “Not many Bluebloods in the phone book.” She waved as they reached the street. “Taxi!”

***

There had in fact been only one Vladimir Blueblood in the phone book. The number had led them to an upper class housing complex. Twilight pressed the buzzer for Blueblood's apartment. No answer came. She pressed it again. Still nothing.

“So what do we do now?” Applejack asked as Twilight peered up at the flat in question. “Sit here and wait for him to come back?”

Twilight nodded at the buzzer wall again. “Just moved in.”

“What?”

“Floor above, new label.” She pointed at another buzzer, where the normal nameplate had been replaced with a piece of paper with a name.

“Could've just replaced it,” Applejack pointed out.

Twilight pressed the buzzer. “No pony ever does that.”

“Hello?” a voice asked from the speaker grille. Twilight put on a friendly expression for the camera.

“Hi! Um, I live in the flat just below you… I don't think we've met.”

“No, well, uh, I've just moved in,” the voice replied.

Twilight nodded smugly, but kept her face from reflecting it. “Actually, I've just locked my keys in my flat.” She peered sadly at the camera.

“You want me to buzz you in?” the new resident offered.

“Oh, yes please,” Twilight said, nodding. “And can I use your balcony?”

“What?” the voice asked, confused.

***

Twilight looked down from the balcony in question. She took note of the street, the distance to the nearest building, and the height of said building. Then she stepped up onto the ledge and carefully lowered herself down to Blueblood's balcony. With a short drop, she was able to see into the flat through the glass door. She tried the door, and found it unlocked. She glanced around as she entered; a number of books sat under the TV. The kitchen was in a state of use, with bread and butter sitting on the counter. A check of the fridge found it was full of champagne. The door buzzed.

“Twilight!” Applejack called from outside.

Twilight trotted from the kitchen to the flat's hall, and checked the door. It was locked, deadbolted and chained from the inside. A glance into the bathroom revealed nothing out of the ordinary.

“Twilight, are you okay?” Applejack asked.

A set of doors stood closed across from the front door. Presumably, the bedroom. Twilight tried the doors and found them locked.

“Yeah, anytime you feel like letting me in,” Applejack said sarcastically.

Twilight rammed the door, and the thin wood gave. She entered the room, and noticed several important details: First, the window was wide open. Second, the trader was lying on his bed. Third, there was a hoofgun on the bed beside him. And finally, he had a bullet hole in his right temple.

***

A pony in a forensic clean suit laid rulers at strategic points around Blueblood's body, measuring his head. Another forensics pony snapped pictures of the body, the room, and everything else of possible import. Applejack and Twilight looked at the body.

“Do you think he'd lost a lot of money?” Applejack asked. “I mean, suicide is pretty common among city folk.”
“We don't know that it was suicide,” Twilight said.

“Come on,” Applejack said, doubtful of there being any doubt. “The door was locked from the inside. You had to climb down the balcony.” She noticed that Twilight had walked away and was peering into an open suitcase on the floor.

“Been away…three days, judging by the laundry.” She beckoned to Applejack. ”Look at the case!” she insisted. “There was something tightly packed inside it.”

“Thanks, I'll take your word for it,” the earth pony declined.

“Problem?”

“Yeah, I'm not too keen on rooting around some pony's dirty laundry.”

Twilight walked back over and circled behind her. “Those symbols at the bank, the graffiti, why were they put there?”

“It was some sort of code?”

“Obviously.” The unicorn turned her attention to the body. “Why were they painted? If you want to communicate, why not use email?” She checked each pocket and found nothing unusual.

“Well, maybe he wasn't answering,” Applejack suggested.

“Oh good,” Twilight said. “You follow.”

“No.”

“What kind of a message would everypony try to avoid?” Twilight pressed. “What about this morning? Those letters you were looking at?” She peered into the dead stallion's mouth.

“Bills?” Applejack asked.

“Yes,” Twilight affirmed. “He was being threatened.” She levitated a small black diamond made from folded paper out of the dead pony's mouth.

“Not by the gas board,” the earth pony said, peering at the diamond. Twilight sealed it in an evidence bag.

They heard a voice giving orders to some of the police ponies outside the room. A griffon in plain clothes walked in and stood in the entryway.

“Ah, Sergeant. We haven't met.” Twilight walked over and extended a hoof, which was ignored.

“Yeah, I know who you are,” the griffon told her. “And I'd prefer it if you didn't tamper with any of the evidence.”

Twilight passed over the evidence bag with the paper diamond, which the griffon took. “I phoned Rainbow, is she on her way?”

“She's busy,” the griffon said. “I'm in charge. And it's not sergeant, it's Detective Inspector. Gilda.” She walked back out into the sitting room. Twilight and Applejack followed her. “We're obviously looking at a suicide,” the griffon said, handing the evidence bag to another pony in a clean suit.

“That does seem the only explanation if all the facts,” Applejack agreed.

“Wrong,” Twilight informed them. “It's one possible explanation of some of the facts. You've got a solution you like, but you're choosing to ignore anything you see that doesn't comply with it.”

“Like?” Gilda demanded.

“The wound's on the right side of his head,” Twilight reminded her.

“And?”

“Blueblood was left hoofed.” Twilight said. She imitated the motion that would be required to shoot oneself in the right side of the head with a gun in their left. “Requires quite a bit of contortion.”

“Left-hoofed?” Gilda asked in disbelief.

“Oh, I'm amazed you didn't notice,” Twilight said patronizingly. “All you have to do is look around this flat.” She pointed at each article that had told her of the victim's hoofedness. “Coffee table on the left side, coffee mug handle pointing to the left, power sockets, habitually used the ones on the left. You want me to go on?”

“No, I think you've covered it,” Applejack said, trying to stop Twilight from annoying the new DI.

“Oh, I might as well. I'm almost at the bottom of the list.” The unicorn pointed towards the kitchen. “There's a knife, on the breadboard, with butter on the right side of the blade, because he used it from his left. Highly unlikely that a left hoofed pony would shoot himself in the right side of his head. Conclusion, somepony broke in here and murdered him. Only explanation of all of the facts.”

“But the gun on-” Gilda began to object.

“He was waiting for the killer,” Twilight said as she retrieved her coat and scarf. “He'd been threatened.”

“What?” the griffon said in surprise.

“Today at the bank,” Applejack explained. “Sort of a warning.”

“He fired a shot when his attacker came in,” Twilight explained as she pulled on the coat.

“And the bullet?” the griffon questioned.

“Went through the open window,” the unicorn said, nodding in the direction the shot traveled.

“Oh, come on!” Gilda protested. “What are the chances of that?”

“Wait until you get the ballistics report. Bullet in his brain wasn't fired from his gun, I guarantee it.”

One thing still was bothering the inspector. “But if his door was locked from the inside, how did the killer get in?”

“Good!” Twilight said in mocking praise. “You're finally asking the right questions.” She knotted her scarf and left the flat, Applejack following.

***