I spent the whole night reviewing the cases. Twelve documented instances of horn removal, nine deaths. Hatred had been quite thorough. His ability to see connections was one of the reasons I recruited him in the first place. Give him a few bits of information and he would piece the whole story together and then link it to five others. Sadly, even with his incredible skills, there was next to nothing for me to go on. The victims had been selected at random. Something more, with the exception of two, they were absolute strangers to one another. This could be no coincidence. Whoever was behind the horn taking, had selected his targets in such a fashion, that they could not be traced back to him. The only common element was that all of them were proficient in magic, not the best by any extent of the imagination, but slightly better than the average unicorn. It seemed weird that Hatred hadn't caught on that. Thinking about it, maybe sharing my concerns with him was a mistake. Despite his many talents, there was one crucial thing he lacked - experience. For him all this was new. There mere thought that somepony could attempt to construct an alicorn excited him in the most morbid way possible. I, however, had seen it attempted several times, and with one exception, each had ended disastrously.

Come morning, I sent a message to Cold Light via sun dog. My "requests" for her were quite a few - look into the possibility that an agency had gone rogue, investigate the horn transplant clinics, track down the three hornless unicorns, and, finally, send somepony to help out with my investigation in Manehattan. Quite the tall order. In the meantime I had to find a way to get myself and Hatred in the MPD. The city authorities had made the connection, once again thanks to Hatred's involvement, and would start muddying the waters.

"Morning, boss," Hatred entered the room.

He hadn't slept either. One look was enough to tell me he had become obsessed with the alicorn angle of the case. I was treading on thin ice - if I were to get him too involved, I might bring out his darker side.

"I've been thinking," he levitated what looked to be a week-old piece of pie towards him, and took a bite. "Them shmucks must be on a schedule. I don't care how rich they are, they can't just buy off random ponies. So, I says to myself, what do I need to make a list?"

I shook my head. Again, he was going about it the wrong way. The question wasn't how they were gathering the horns, it was why. Judging by the lack of similar cases outside the city, it had to be Manehattan related. The fact, that they had chosen to pick up the pace, told me they had an endgame planned.

"You don't just find them specs lying around!" He persisted, sticking to his point. "A lot of time and money invested, and I'm talking corporate amounts here. So if I had them bits, why stop there, you know what I mean?"

Now I felt ashamed. Being used to unlimited funds and information had made me blind to certain realities of life. If our collectors had the means to buy horns, they could buy anything, including having reports falsified.

"So you'll assign me to the police case?" Hatred asked. Quite cocky of him. There was no way I'd let him deal with this alone, and he knew it. Rather he was testing how far he could push things and get away with it.

He took it relative well, when I told him it would be years before I considered making him the lead. This time he only spat on the floor. Naturally, I hinted things might change depending on the outcome of this case. That made him feel a slightly better.

My approach towards the case was going to be different. Not knowing who in the agencies to trust, I could not risk asking for favours directly. There were a few operatives in the MPD, but they were too low level to know of my existence. Looks like Hatred's past would come in useful.

I told him the plan. Unsurprisingly, he was unimpressed. As far as he was concerned, any idea that didn't come from him was bad. That was one of the reasons I never introduced him to the princess, unlike the rest of my team. Having him make one of his usual comments in front of Celestia, might amuse her, but would definitely annoy me.

"Not for nothin', boss, but that's one stupid plan," he snorted. "In this town you're nothing without connections. So, I gets us through the door, then what?"

I looked him straight in the eye. We weren't going to go in through the door. Rather, I had something special planned.

The MPD headquarters were an hour's walk from Hatred's place. I made him take a cab. If nothing else, I wanted us to get to the building as quickly as possible. Naturally, I had eaten another color pellet, this time turning me a royal orange. For what we were going to do, I needed to look flashy.

Arriving at the building, I could tell something was wrong. The entire area was packed with ponies. Even from this distance I could make out the carts of several broadcasting networks.

"Come on! Move it!" I heard our cabby yell. "What's the hold up?"

So much for my plan. Hatred gave the cabby some bits, then left him to continue his yelling. At the same time, I tried to make out what the ponies in the crowd were saying. For the most part there was too much noise to understand a thing, but I did catch one phrase repeated over and over - "Broadway murder". It sounded like an ordinary police matter, possibly involving a local celebrity. However, I felt am uncomfortably tingling in my feathers. What if it was related to the horn collector?

"Lay low, boss," Hatred whispered as he cast an invisibility spell over me, then proceeded to shove his way as close as possible to the MPD entrance.

This had to be the craziest press conference I had ever seen. Even in Canterlot the reporters weren't as wild. I counted no less than twenty ponies in uniform trying to keep the crowd at bay, while the commissioner himself made his way towards a hastily set up podium.

"Commissioner Hard Burn!" a reporter next to Hatred shouted. "Can you confirm that the body had been mutilated?"

"Is it true that Dame Whitehoof had been seen with notorious mobster Lucky Two-Shoes?" Yelled another.

"Do you suspect an Everfree sect?"

"Everypony, please," the commissioner said as loudly as possible. The microphone somehow managed to carry his voice over the roars of the crowd, causing the reporters to calm down. "The only thing I am prepared to say is that the Manehattan Police Department has started its investigation of the untimely demise of Dame Whitehoof, one of our cities's greatest talents. The mayor, myself, and every other pony on the force, express our deepest condolences to the Dame's family and would like to make it very clear that no expense will be spared until the perpetrator is brought to justice!"

Several reporters tried to restart their offensive, but a raised hoof on the commissioner's part made them stop.

"The investigation will be lead by detective Sharp Eye - one of MPD's most capable ponies." A middle aged mare stepped forward next to the commissioner.

A single look was all it took for me to peg her as the fall pony. For one thing, I had never heard of her, which I would have if she really was as capable as Hard Burn made her out to be. Looking at Sharp Eye, she didn't exactly inspire confidence - her green mane was short, but unkept, and although her uniform was brand new, I could tell by her posture she rarely wore it according to code. Then again, some of the best agents I had trained weren't overly fond of regulations.

"Know her," Hatred whispered under his breath. That was good, at least - it gave us a way onto the case. The difficult part would be convincing her.

The press conference continued in standard big city fashion - one side would ask whatever insane question came to mind, while the other would completely ignore them. There was no point in having around any longer. I tapped Hatred's back with my food. It was time to go.

"Think it's ours, boss?" he asked once we went out of the crowd. "I'm thinking too much fuss for a dame. Two weeks ago this ballerina kicks it, and hardly gets page five. And it was messy too. Jumped from the seventh right down to the pavement."

As much as I admired his observation skills, I did not share his fascination of morbid details. Flapping my wings, I told him I'd like to arrange a meeting with the detective.

"Sure about that?" he asked. "Our little act won't work on her."

At this point it hardly mattered. If this case was linked to the rest, there was no way I'd miss getting involved. Hatred attempted to convince me otherwise, but a wing flap on my part set him straight. Ultimately I was the spymaster, and he answered to me.

After some consideration, I decided the best place to meet would be at a coffee shop. I left Hatred to choose, and he did not disappoint. The place was old, but not run down, one of those that must have been something great in its time, now replaced by the next new thing. I stood on the back of a chair, to the amazement of the ponies nearby, while Hatred ordered a cup of cherry liqueur and a fried hay sandwich. He always did have a sweet tooth.

It didn't take long for Sharp Eye to arrive. The conference over, the detective had slipped into a far more comfortable set of clothes. I noted she was quite surprised upon seeing me.

"Little Lime," she said with an annoyed sigh, as she sat across him. "That better not be a stolen bird, you got."

"How ya doing there, detective," Hatred smile in the way only he could. "Congrats on the promotion. Lead of a major case."

"At least till Tuesday," she frowned. "What's with the bird?"

"Don't worry about it. Belongs to a client of mine. Pony has trust issues, so he sends me a phoenix to make sure I'm on the level."

"Really?" The detective crossed her forehooves.

"Can't hide from a phoenix," Hatred shrugged. "Kill it, and it's back again, and not too happy about it."

His performance was deliberately over the top, but conveyed the message perfectly. As far as the detective was concerned, Hatred was working for somepony with deep pockets, who didn't like being disappointed.

"What's your game?" She got directly to the point. "I don't know how you got that note in my office, but it's enough to take you in, so you better come clean."

It was clear she was dying to know how he had managed that feat. That reason alone must have dragged her to the meeting. Sadly for her, she would never know. Such information was far beyond her pay grade.

"My client wants to know more about the case," Hatred said.

"Fine. When I learn something you'll be the first to..."

"No," Hatred interrupted her. "My client wants to know before you learn."

For a moment she looked at him puzzled, then hey eyes suddenly narrowed. Carefully she studied Hatred, trying to determine whether he was being serious.

"You're crazy," Sharp Eye said after a while. "There's no way I could put you on the case, even if I wanted to."

"You're lead detective."

"Buck it! I'm the face the press will tear up next week, and we both know it! The commissioner is keeping an eye on me, the lieutenant is breathing down my neck. Everypony in HQ is expecting me to fail. They are even holding bets how many days I'll last!"

"So they won't ask any questions." A smile appeared on Hatred's face. "I be thinking, them big wigs will let you do anything, as long as it's make a fool of yourself. Hear what I'm saying?"

Very good. Hatred had provided the excuse, now it was time for the lure.

"Your filly is a few years away from college," he took a sip of his liqueur. "I hear art could be quite expensive. Not for a lieutenant, though."

"A lieutenant?" Her eyes opened wide.

"My client has connections and wants to find who's behind this, as much as you. You get your promotion, my client gets to know. Everypony happy."

"I'm not working for Lucky Two-Shoes," she said bitterly. Obviously he had tried to get to a few ponies on the force, maybe even succeeded.

"It's not Lucky," Hatred said. "Not somepony you have to worry about. So what do you say, detective? Or does my client have to wait till next week?"

The implication was clear. In a way everything Hatred had said was true - I did have money and connections at my disposal, and I would find a way on the case with or without Sharp Eye's help. Fortunately for both of us, she nodded.

"I'll get the paperwork sorted," she said. "Consulting detective. Don't expect to get paid much."

"Just one thing," Hatred said as the detective was getting up. "The Dame, was her horn missing?"

Ten seconds of silence. Under the circumstances, even for me that seemed like an eternity. At first I feared that we might have been wrong, that the case was indeed local and had nothing to do with our horn collector.

"Yes," the detective said at last. "Just like an earth pony..."