The group raced to Fluttershy's cottage. As they approached, they were greeted by several of Fluttershy's animals, having been sent into a panic by something. Heading up the bridge, they found that the door had been knocked off its hinges. Phillip held up a hoof to signal the others to stay back, drawing his baton as he entered the cottage.

Furniture had been knocked around, vases smashed and drawers yanked out, their contents scattered across the floor. Phillip made a quick examination of the house. "He's not here," he said, folding his baton back up. "Neither is Fluttershy. She went out shopping."

"How do you—?" Rainbow started to ask, but was cut off when Phillip pointed at a note laying on the floor, having been knocked off the door. The note read, "Gone shopping, be back soon." Rainbow internally cringed.

"You think this was a burglar?" Twilight asked, examining the room in shock.

"Not likely," Phillip said. "First, this is poor pickings for a thief; isolated, but not many valuables and too many animals to make noise. A burglar wouldn't have kicked in the door when it's fairly obvious that Fluttershy keeps a spare key underneath the doormat (the mares noticed the distinctive shape beneath the mat), nor would they have wasted time in the kitchen and pantry. And those phonograph records?" He pointed at the shards on the floor, remnants of what had been recordings of Fluttershy's favorite music. "Worth plenty of money. He would've taken them instead of wrecking them." He shook his head. "No. This is somepony who just wanted to come in and trash the place."

"Why?"

"To send a message, obviously," Phillip said, stooping down to examine the floor. "A theatrical message."

A gasp from the door told them that Fluttershy had arrived. "Oh, my goodness! My house! Who did this?" She flew about, fussing over her still distressed animals, who were hiding in various nooks and crannies.

"Twilight, stop Rainbow," Phillip said, without looking up. Twilight looked up in time to telekinetically pull Rainbow out of the sky; she'd started to fly away.

"Hey, let me go!" Rainbow shouted, struggling against Twilight's magical grip. "I'm going to teach that rich snob a lesson!"

"Rainbow, you don't have any proof that he's responsible for this," Twilight pointed out. "You'd just get into trouble!"

Rainbow grumbled, but allowed herself to be placed back on the ground. "Yeah, but you'll find something," she said to Phillip. "And once you do—"

"A professional will take care of this, not you," Phil replied without looking up, putting on his loupe glasses and adjusting the magnification. "Now, hush."

Rainbow fell into a very reluctant silence. Fluttershy having managed to calm her animal charges, the ponies stood back to allow Phillip to examine the crime scene.

I've never had my tail shiver like that when my crime sense went off, Phillip thought to himself. Could it be because—?

He suddenly realized it was that annoying voice in the back of his head talking again. Shut it. I'm working.

His examination of the cottage and the surrounding grounds took about half an hour, passed in silence. He moved from room to room, sweeping the floors and walls for clues. Pausing at the doorway, he examined the lock where it had been kicked open, then plucked some black fibers off of the wall and examined them intently beneath the glasses. He held them up to his nose and sniffed them, then dropped them into a plastic baggie from one of his many pockets. Moving to the outside, he swept his gaze across the muddy ground, peering at faint tracks in the ground. Finally, he removed his loupe and stowed them back in his case, looking vaguely irritated.

"Didn't have the courtesy to leave some decent evidence," he muttered, mainly to himself, before clearing his throat and speaking directly to the mares.

"One intruder, likely a stallion. Above average height, but below average weight, judging by hoofprints outside, but the mud makes it impossible to determine exact height and build. Was wearing a black sweatshirt, possibly hooded, from fibers left behind on doorframe. Smoker, based on smell of nicotine on fibers."

Twilight frowned. "Not much help."

"Somepony knows who he is," Phillip said, turning back to the road. "The pony who hired him. Monopoly."

Author's Notes:

Admit it, I had you worried that something was going to happen to Fluttershy.

More soon...