Marcia sat back in the Chief's chair and pondered the facts as spelled out. "Rather undeniable!" she thought as then gathering the names of those to be interviewed.
Returning the file, she went out to her car and sat thinking of what she must ask. After just a short time she started the car and was off to visit Charles Robertson.
Walking into the room like she owned it Marcia saw Mr. Robertson sitting on the edge of his bed looking out the window. "Good morning Mr. Robertson, I'm Marcial Caldwell....."
A voice cut her off, "Just another shrink no doubt!" he answered.
"NO, a paranormal investigator working with the Chief of Police on you special case. May I sit and ask some questions, please?" asked Marcia in a professional tone but all too good manners.
The man sat on the bed looking at Marcia as she scooted up a chair for one very private conversation. "I read the report which Police Chief made and it's very revealing! You say your name is Ely Kazan and you worked at the farm of Mr. & Mrs. Ranskin eight years ago, right? OK, then after an encounter with the Misses, Mister used a magic silver ring and change your total body into a Sambawa Indonesian' stallion. Then for eight long years you accepted the lifestyle and mated with pony mares, right? OK good, now when picked up from the farm and brought to the hospital a silver pinky ring was on your finger."
"WHAT, where is it, who's got the ring? It's dangerous they might make a wish and poof! We have to find out who's got the thing!" Suddenly the calm man was filled with concern and almost rage.
I beconed him to calm and quiet down before some orderly moves him to the nut ward or worse. He quit the racket and I asked some questions more.
"This ring is the one of three in a set that Mister owned? OK, what are the other two and who do you know of them?" I asked.
He looked at me sternly, then said, "The ring set was used in the man's magic act. However I witnessed his transformation of girls into mares rather than face his wife and get in trouble. Another ring made you switch bodies, then the other was the most evil thing! That ring had a black band running around it. He used it once on a travelling salesman he rubbed the ring with his thumb and pointed at the man. All in one big poof the man's body turned like stone and crumbled down into a pile of dust. Mister Ranskin took a shovel and scooped up the residue and used it for fertilizer on his roses."
"Once you were this pony stallion how did you feel, could you think as before?" I asked with a questioning look I'm sure.
"Damn you, you think that was funny? I was a teenager with my life ahead of me and girlfriend who I planned to marry! Then I'm changed, my body made from human and reshaped to a stallion pony, what do you think it felt like? It was a wild and terrible feeling of human thoughts, memories, desires, suddenly mixed with beastly lust, instinct, and worse of all a sensual body and the longest cock a man could have to distract him. The pony stallion's cock was the one thing which ruled my every move and thought. The huge raw feeling of lust without any thought of society or morals to contain one's desires. Yes I mounted mares, hell, I enjoyed their rough sex and in it the act of sex drew me away from being myself, and deep into the instinctive drives of the animal I was then. Oh but even with the smaller brain my memories of family, friends, and enemies like Ranskin were right there with me daily. I realized what he did to me but I needed him for food and exsistance, hell, some of the girls he made mares were sold to farms and even meat packers. Why if I'd not been on my toes so to speak I'd be dog food in short order. The old man like to watch me close up have sex with mares! I was entertainment, better than TV for the guy. The mounting of mares is why he kept me on the farm, that one reason kept me alive for such the day might come, and it did! Now I'm here, stuck as a man twenty years older than I might have been! Oh yea, then too a Charles Robertson is finding being a stallion to be rather distracting. In fact he might be enjoying the sexual encounters and to which or from which over time he will lose his idenity and become a plain sex minded pony." the man explained as I wrote.
"One last thing for now, do you think I could interview the stallion and if so how could he respond?" I asked rather wide eyed.
He laughed, "Well he's there and knows what, and where he is. He might ask you by writing in the sand or pawing a hoof for yes or no, then too he might have lost everything and is a plain willing little stallion."