Chapter 1
It was my first day at my new job. After training for several years abroad, I had finally returned to where my journey began so that I could really start the thing I wanted to be doing most; investigating. Science was my passion, and the exhilaration of a job that tied police work and science together was a dream come true for me.
The day got off to a less than pleasing start, which began with me finding out (not even from the chief of police, I might add) that I had been "temporarily placed" in the detective department. What was that supposed to mean? Did they doubt my skills? Were there no positions open in the job I actually wanted, behind-the-scenes science work? I had so many questions, and no-one within a fifty-mile radius was even vaguely capable of answering them. Fuming, I stepped outside my once-favourite place, the Police Headquarters. Noticing out of the corner of my eye that the Blue Badger was still waving his little yellow flag about as he had been all those years ago, I looked at the piece of yellowing paper that had been thrust into my hand by a twitchy but somehow familiar police officer with a megaphone. Skimming across several lines containing the details of the case I was apparently meant to be researching, I marched angrily towards the location of the crime.
En route, I managed to chill myself out a little with a bag of Snackoos. I mean MUNCH there were MUNCH worse things that MUNCH could have happened MUNCH and maybe a batch MUNCH of detective work MUNCH to get me back MUNCH into the swing MUNCH of things was just MUNCH what the doctor MUNCH ordered.
Arriving at the entrance to a local realtors' office, I flashed my newly-printed badge at the officer on the door, and he waved me inside inattentively. No-one else was inside the building, which I deemed slightly unprofessional. Then again, I supposed I was the only person who had the right to be in the building at this moment, so I ignored my thoughts that the Police Department may have lost some of its previous workaholics.
I instantly saw a pool of crimson blood, still wet, staining the pristine white carpet, and a discarded weapon nearby. The victim's body was crumpled and pale. Seeing this darkened room made me remember how much I had once loved crime scenes. Then again, that might have had something to do with him…
Breaking out of my reverie, I pulled out a foreign digital camera from my satchel, and started snapping away. Careful not to stand on anything of importance, I took pictures of the bloody weapon next to the victim's arm, and specks of blood on his face. I carefully removed a pair of glasses from atop the victim's head, and upon noticing they were broken, taking a picture of them too and placing them in an airtight, clear plastic bag.
Still glancing for more important information at the scene, I happened to look past the doorway. Leaning in it was a tall, fairly muscular figure in a pinky-red suit. A flash of childish hope hit me that the figure might indeed be the pink-suited prosecutor I had come to like very much in my teenage years, but when the figure shook his head, his white-blond hair proved that Mr Edgeworth had not, indeed, made an entrance during my first day back in America.
"Du bist die neue Detectivin, ja?" the blond man asked, a thick European accent smothering the words I already didn't understand. I looked up at him, my eyes shining in confusion, as he stepped out of the bright doorway and towards me.
"Erm, I'm not sure you're supposed to be in here," I stuttered, lengthening each of my words and speaking louder than necessary. I had no idea if this strange, but somehow charismatic, foreign man would understand me at all.
He chucked at my words, or perhaps the way I said them, and glided further into the room. A chunky necklace bearing a distorted letter "G" hung from his think neck, and I found myself gazing stupidly up at his tanned face.
"Ahem…" I cleared my throat, standing up. I was almost the same height as him; perhaps he wasn't as tall as I first perceived. Removing the pink glasses I had previously put over my eyes to stand them on top of my head, I waited. It was his turn to speak now, after all.
"Entschuldigung, but I couldn't resist," the suave man finally spoke in a language I understood. At least, I thought I understood it, until he dazzled me with his bright, smiling eyes. "Klavier Gavin, prosecutor," he introduced himself, his almost growly accent making his name into a poem. "Und du?" he prompted me.
"Erm…" I said, mortified; I couldn't even remember my own name! "Ema Skye, I'm a new detective," I finally spat out, almost biting off my tongue doing it.
"Ah, that answers my earlier question," he replied quietly, earning another confused look from me. "I was speaking German. Just trying to mess you up, baby," he explained to me, not looking me in the eye. I got the feeling he was all about appearances.
"Oh right…" was my amazingly articulate answer. "Well," I said, breaking the awkward silence that was starting to form, "I'd better get back to work."
"Feel free," he commented, making no move to leave. What, he was just going to stand there and watch me? That was more than a little creepy…
"You can go, if you want, and I can fax you the details," I offered, almost pushy. I was this close to shooing him out of the door with my dustpan and brush.
"Alright, I'll leave," he agreed, chuckling under his breath. I had a feeling he had been in this situation a million times. What a flirt. "But I really think we should meet later, you know, face to face, to discuss the details." That one shocked me a little, I gotta say. What kind of a prosecutor was he, anyway, practically asking people out instead of doing his job?
"Umm, I dunno…" I started, lamely. "I mean, I just got to the city yesterday… Well, not only the city, the country, and..." I rambled on. STOP! I screamed at myself inside my head. Why was I being such a nerd?
"That's alright, we'll just have to get better acquainted another time," he interrupted me of my word vomit and winked at me cheekily. I tried so hard not to respond, but it was coming… I painfully let out a girly giggle. Shit, I thought. This guy's got me good. Frowning, I turned my back on him, and returned to spraying Luminol all over the place. He chuckled one last time, and finally exited.
I sank to the floor, my back sliding against the wall. I let out a long sigh. Why did my first day have to be like this?
Shortly after realising I had slid down a wall which had previously had bloody writing all over it, smudging the lot, I disposed of my lab coat, salvaged all I could of the writing on the wall, and took some more photos. And, of course, when I left, it had started to rain. This was one hell of a day.
A/N: Translation.
"Du bist die neue Detectivin, ja?" You are the new detective, yes?
"Entschuldigung" Sorry.