Warnings: mentions of suicide, passing reference to sexual harassment

Chapter 4:

Miles woke early the next morning; he never seemed to be able to sleep in when there was a case to be solved. His back ached and there was an uncomfortable throbbing between his eyes. After a hot cup of tea and some aspirin, the pain began to subside and he felt himself waking up. He didn't dawdle – there was work to be done after all – and he was soon out the door and off to the Prosecutor's Office.

Because of the time, he was one of the first to work. The halls were quiet; he only came across the occasional cleaner or security guard on his walk from the lobby up the twelve flights of stairs to his office. Once he was settled, he made himself another cup of tea and sat behind his desk, perusing the myriad files stacked there. There was no file on the van Hale case yet – it was too early in the morning for that. Instead, he jotted down all the significant points he had learnt yesterday during his investigation.

At ten past nine, his secretary Hannah, brought in the preliminary police report on Willamijna van Hale.

"Oh!" she said suddenly on her way out. She turned around and fiddled with the scarf around her neck. "I almost forgot to tell you: there'll be a case briefing down at Criminal Affairs this afternoon, 3 pm. The Chief requested that you be there," she smiled uncertainly.

"Thank you, Hannah," Miles said. The words were barely out of his mouth before she nodded and walked as quickly as she could to her desk outside his office. Miles shrugged, the girl had always seemed intimidated of him; at least that made her a reliable secretary.

He opened up the file; it wasn't very thick. It contained all the usual info: DOB, background, work, known associates, etc. – nothing he didn't already know. It was when he got to her medical history that he became intrigued. The file read that she had recently been prescribed sleeping pills as she'd complained of being unable to sleep.

Insomnia. Both Daniel and Albert van Hale attested to that yesterday.

He closed up the file; it hadn't been of much use to him. Underneath it, however, he found another file labelled Gardiner, Jamie. At least that bumbling detective could do something right.

Gardiner was a businessman. As far as Edgeworth could tell, he owned a number of financial institutions in his home country of Canada and several more in the US and Mexico. His passport indicated that he was currently in LA for business, no doubt the deal with Mina van Hale. Following the first page, there were several pages of email discourse. They all appeared to be between Gardiner and Mina. One in particular caught his attention:

From: W van Hale wvhale(AT)bankco..net

Sent: 28 June 2011 28/06/11

To: jgardiner(AT)cancorp..com

Subject: RE: Merger 405AS

Mr. Gardiner,

It appears we've reached an impasse. If you are unprepared to accept my conditions, I fear that we will be unable to close this deal.

I shall talk more of this to you next week at the meeting.

Regards,

Willamijna van Hale

The email was dated only the day before Mina died, Miles noted. There was no reply email from Gardiner and all the previous emails concerned setting up times for meetings and luncheons.

So it seems Mina was going to reject the business deal. Curious, everyone I spoke to seemed to be under the impression that the deal was going to go through.

He decided that he would have to go and see this Gardiner himself – he'd be the only one who could clear up this little mystery. Miles flicked the page over to the last of the file. It was titled "Criminal Record". His eyes widened slightly at that; he was not expecting van Hale to be associates with a criminal. The file said that one of Gardiner's employees had accused him of sexual misconduct and harassment back in '05. However, the woman had later withdrawn her accusations and the charges were dropped.

Out of court settlement, Miles sneered. He'd always been disgusted at the way powerful people were able to avoid the justice system by throwing around a little bit of cash.

"Mr. Edgeworth?" Hannah asked timidly. He'd been so absorbed in his work that he hadn't heard her come in. She'd opened the door a crack and was poking her head through as if she were terrified of what was inside.

"Yes, Hannah?" He rubbed his temples in frustration, his tolerance for her ridiculous behaviour wanning.

"Dr Croak says that he's ready when you are." At his blank expression she continued. "Dr Stanley Croak, the mortician. He has the preliminary autopsy report ready for you down at the morgue."

Creepy Coroner. "Right, of course." He closed the files and began to stack them neatly on his desk. "Thank you, Hannah," he said as an after thought when he noticed she was still standing there. She nodded and scurried off.

The morgue had a floor all to itself, or rather half a floor – it was halfway between ground level and the basement. 'Level 0.5' it read on the lift. Edgeworth had always wondered if it had been inspired by Harry Potter until he'd been told that the morgue had been added in as an after thought. Definitely not as interesting a back story as it could have been.

The stark whiteness of the hallway was in no way comforting, nor was the red stripe some genius had painted along the walls. It reminded Miles of a red gash cut into deathly white flesh. In some ways it was oddly fitting, considering the morgue was the only office on this level. Laughter echoed eerily down the hall, so he knew he was in the right place. At least Creepy Coroner was enjoying his time down here with the dead.

Edgeworth knocked on the door to the morgue and walked into the observation room. As he was putting on some scrubs, the coroner came in through another door, one that led from the observation room to the morgue itself.

"Ah, Mr. Edgeworth! Welcome, welcome. I trust you had a restful sleep after such an exhausting day," he exclaimed a little too loudly in the small room. A huge grin was plastered on his face, his eyes dancing with excitement.

"Mm," Miles murmured in agreement. He snapped on some latex gloves and pulled a medical mask over his head and around his neck. He never liked the medical garb he had to wear on his rare visits to the morgue, especially because they were mint green. But if any prosecutor could pull it off, it would be him. He squared his shoulders and asked, "Shall we?" indicating to the door that led to the morgue.

"Ah, why yes of course. Right this way!" The coroner led the way and made a beeline for the examination table in the middle of the room. Lisa, the assistant, was at the far end of the room looking through a microscope then noting her findings on a clipboard. She lifted her eyes to Edgeworth and gave a curt nod in greeting before returning to her work. Now why couldn't her superior be as reserved as her?

The morgue was cool and smelt overpoweringly of disinfectant and decay. Miles shivered, but it was not from the cold. The coroner picked up a file from the tray next to the examination table and handed it over.

"The prelim autopsy," Creepy Coroner announced.

Edgeworth flicked through it quickly. Many of the pages were full of medical jargon and a few had labelled diagrams. He didn't read anything though; the coroner would be able to explain it all more simply than the file did. He turned to the coroner who was looking at him with expectant eyes and tucked the file under his arm. At the far end of the room, Lisa changed microscope slides.

"Atroquinine poisoning?" he asked, nodding at Mina van Hale's covered body. Creepy Coroner didn't pull down the cloth and for that Edgeworth was thankful.

"Yes it was. I found 3µg (micrograms) of the stuff in her bloodstream, which is over a lethal dosage." He had sobered up since greeting Miles. "Unsurprisingly," he continued, "she had very high Blood Alcohol Content; 0.19. She would have experienced over-expression, slurred speech, staggering, etc. She was very close to the level that can cause blackouts and stupors." The room went eerily silent as Miles took it all in. Even Lisa had stopped her work and was watching the exchange with emotionless eyes. Creepy Coroner shifted from foot to foot uneasily. Miles opened the file to the first page.

"So, time of death was between 2.30 and 3.30 yesterday morning. That's a very specific time frame…" He trailed off waiting for the coroner to explain.

"Ah, yes, I understand why you may be a little sceptical. Atroquinine continues to attack the body after death and does so in a very distinct, linear fashion. With this information, Lisa and I were able to determine such a small time frame from the level of damage the poison had caused." The coroner smiled as if proud of himself.

Edgeworth skimmed through the first page of the autopsy report, but the info he was looking for was not there. He decided it would be quicker to ask the coroner himself. "And where did you find the poison?"

"Ah, yes." Creepy Coroner clasped his hands together, excited. "The wine glass contained the poison. There was none in the bottle," he explained. "Oh and it was a match for that sample you gave me," he added as an after thought. Edgeworth nodded in reply; he had thought as much anyway. Lisa walked up to the pair having finished whatever it was she had been doing.

"There were a number of fingerprints on the wine bottle," she began, seemingly already bored with the conversation.

"That's not unusual," Miles replied. "The bottle had been opened on the night of the party – anyone could have picked it up."

Lisa nodded in agreement. "I thought it best you know in any case. Apart from the victim's," she looked pointedly at the body on the table, "Brigitte van Hale, Albert van Hale and the maid, Gertrude's fingerprints were present." She put her hands in her lab coat's pockets and appraised Edgeworth with blasé eyes.

"And I assume only Ms van Hale's fingerprints were found on the glass," he replied in the same uninterested tone Lisa had used. The question had been directed at Lisa, but Creepy Coroner decided to answer, perhaps sensing the tension that had arisen.

"Yes, yes," he said with an uneasy smile. "Just the victim's fingerprints were on the glass."

Miles flipped the autopsy report closed. "I think that will be all for now," he stated. "I'll ring if I have any questions." He nodded at the pair and turned towards the observation room.

"Good luck with the investigation," the coroner exclaimed as Edgeworth left the room. Lisa said nothing.

After a quick lunch at his office reading the autopsy report, Edgeworth headed over to Criminal Affairs for the case briefing. The traffic was light today, so he arrived with plenty of time to spare.

Walking into the station, he was immediately taken aback by how busy the place was. There were officers everywhere, scrambling to and from their desks. Many looked flustered; either their hair or tie askew.

Must have caught a big case, Miles mused. He'd been too busy with the van Hale case to check the news.

"Mr. Edgeworth, sir!" Gumshoe exclaimed. Edgeworth turned to where the detective was pushing through the crowd – he seemed as dishevelled as everyone else.

"Detective," he nodded in greeting. "What's happened?" he asked, concerned.

The detective visibly deflated at that. He sighed deeply before answering. "There's been a shooting downtown, pa – I mean sir. 10 dead, more injured."

"I see. How terrible," he replied softly. He couldn't think of much more to add.

"It's good that you're early, sir. The Chief wants this meeting over as soon as possible. He's got more important stuff on his plate now," Gumshoe said miserably.

"I have no doubt that he does." Miles checked his watch, 2.30 it read.

The pair weaved their way through the chaos of the precinct, towards the back where there was a hallway that led to a number of conference rooms and jail cells. There were only a few officers seated around the conference table and the Chief was pacing back and forth at the front of the room. When he turned towards the door, Miles saw worry marring his brow.

"Ah, Edgeworth," he said tiredly. "Please, take a seat. We need to get this over and done with ASAP." The Chief rubbed between his eyes to relieve his migraine, though the action was in vain. They sat down and the Chief flipped open the file in front of him. "Right," he began wearily. "Case ZX-2 – death of Willamijna van Hale. I think it's safe to say that this was a suicide; the coroner's report confirms this." A murmur of agreement came from the few officers in the room. Edgeworth went to protest, but the Chief cut him off. "So, tomorrow morning, you'll all write up your final reports and the case will be closed. Clear?" He said in a tone that left no room for disagreement. He didn't wait for an answer and he stood up, gathering his files and made his way to the door. The other officers followed suit.

"But s–"

"There will be no buts, Prosecutor Edgeworth. This is a cut and dry suicide," the Chief interrupted icily.

Edgeworth was unaffected by his tone and continued. "I have to disagree with you, sir. The investigation in no where near complete; I still have many avenues of enquiry to undertake."

"I'm sorry," the Chief began, sounding all but sorry. "The case is closed. There'll be no further discussion on this matter."

"Sir, I really don't think that is wise," he replied, copying Chief's icy tone. The Chief's eye twitched, clearly angered by Edgeworth's insubordinate behaviour. The last officer to leave the conference room glanced meekly at the pair as he hurried out the door.

The Chief cocked his head to the side. "I don't think it's wise to question my authority on this matter, Prosecutor Edgeworth," he spat. Edgeworth stood his ground, unperturbed.

"Her motive for suicide is unclear – "

"Unclear?" The Chief interrupted incredulously. "Next you'll be telling me you have this psychic feeling that something isn't right!" He shouted, a laugh bubbling to the surface. At that, Miles narrowed his eyes and looked thoroughly unimpressed. The two stared at each other in silence for a long moment before the Chief huffed in frustration.

"Fine," he grit out. "Keep investigating." He put on finger on Edgeworth's chest. "But know this: you will not receive any help from my men, except for Gumshoe. I won't have you wasting my time or resources when I have better things to be doing with them," he said very slowly, voice dripping with anger.

"Understood, sir," Edgeworth replied. The Chief turned on his heel and brusquely left the room. Miles let out a long sigh and with it went all the tension from that conversation. He and the Chief had never been on particularly good terms, but now any chance of acquaintanceship seemed impossible; this did however, not bother Miles. He was thankful though that he didn't run into the Chief on his way out. Gumshoe had left sometime during the quarrel and Miles didn't care to find him in the crowd to say goodbye.

Having checked over the list he made earlier that morning, Edgeworth decided that he would head back to the van Hale estate to learn more about the mysterious letters Mina had been receiving. The meeting with the Chief had not lasted long and by the time Edgeworth was on the road, it was only 2.45pm. Again the roads were quiet and he arrived at the estate at 3.15. One lonely officer stood by the front door of the main house to oversee any last forensic work. He nodded as Miles walked up to the front door. He was greeted by the lovely Gertrude, who was polite as ever. When he asked to speak with the maids that handled the mail, she merely nodded and walked briskly down the west hall. After standing uncomfortably in the lobby for ten minutes, Gertrude returned with the blonde maid from yesterday, Katherine. They moved to a sitting room just off the main hallway to speak. It looked exactly the same as the room Mina had died in.

"Miss Mina would always get one letter on Monday and one letter on Thursday," she began timidly. "There was no return address, I think they may have been hand delivered."

"Why is that?" he asked.

Katherine bit her lower lip in indecision. It seemed she didn't fully trust Miles with whatever she knew. "Well, they only had Miss Mina's name on them, you see. You can't mail a letter without an address," she stated matter-of-factly.

"Did she ever tell you about who sent them to her or what they were about?" he asked gently.

Katherine shook her head slowly. "She didn't tell me anything about them, sir. But she always was rather anxious to receive them, she was…" She trailed off deep in thought. She seemed to have something on her mind and Miles didn't want to interrupt until she voiced it. Her eyes widened in remembrance. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "She always sent out a reply letter without fail, she did. One every Tuesday and one every Friday."

"To who?" he asked anxiously.

Katherine's face saddened. "I don't know, sir. They didn't ever have any names," she replied dejectedly.

"You wouldn't perchance know the address she sent the letters to?"

Katherine fiddled with her dress and cast her eyes to the ceiling frowning in thought. "I think I may have a copy somewhere…" she said cautiously. "If you don't mind waiting, I'll go have a look."

"That would be wonderful, Ms Katherine," Miles replied with a smile. Katherine looked down; her cheeks flushed pink, nodded and left the room quickly.

About ten minutes later, Katherine hurried quickly back in the room with a piece of paper clutched to her chest. A number of conflicting emotions crossed her face. She finally settled on 'stern' as she handed over the paper. "Now I'm no busy body," she began. "Mrs. van Hale just requires us to record the addresses of all the letters we send off, she does. I swear it!" she stated defensively.

"That's alright, Ms Katherine," he replied as he took the paper. "I didn't think you were," he added kindly.

She smiled shyly at that and wrung her hands together. "I must be getting back to my duties if that's all…"

Miles stood. "Yes, that's all. You've been a great help."

After Katherine excused herself, Edgeworth took out his phone and called Gumshoe. On the fifth ring, the detective picked up.

"My Edgeworth, sir! I didn't see you leave earlier" he exclaimed.

"You seemed busy enough; I didn't want to bother you. But that's not why I'm ringing. I need you to find out who lives here as soon as possible." He rattled off the address to Gumshoe.

"Don't worry, sir! I'll have that for you within the hour!" Miles could almost hear the detective huffing with pride. He hung up without saying anything else – you could never get to the pleasantries of saying goodbye with the detective, he talked much too much. Silence filled the air as Miles reflected on what this new information could mean.

Mina died on a Saturday… she would have sent a note on the Friday… There was something pulling at the edges of his subconscious, but what was it? Ah! The letter in her room – the one that was covering the Atroquinine. That could be the letter from Thursday!

Wasting no time, Edgeworth hurried from the sitting room, down the main hall and up the stairs towards Mina's room. He didn't meet anyone along the way, which he was thankful for (Mr. and Mrs. van Hale were out making arrangements for the funeral).

Mina's room was exactly as he had found it yesterday. He rounded the bed to the side table and opened up the second drawer. The letter was sitting there just as he'd left it. He opened it up quickly, having no qualms in reading the dead girl's letter. His eyes widened in shock – the contents were not what he was expecting.

Willamijna van Hale,

I write and write to you and yet you do not grasp the words. This shall be the last time I do – if you do not do as I demand, then I'm afraid your secret affair with daddy's friend shall no longer be a secret.

As per usual, you are to send $5000 to the address I have given you.

Next, you are to stop that vile affair – I shall know if you haven't.

Thirdly, and most importantly, you are to reject the merger with Gardiner's firm. No matter what concessions he is willing to make, you are to reject the merger.

You will not hear from me again. Beware of the consequences if you do not follow my instructions.

X.

The letter had been typed. Everything about it was nondescript. It was probably too late for a fingerprint analysis, but he would have one done just in case.

This certainly made things a lot more complicated: he didn't know whether this would confirm the suicide theory or prove Mina had been murdered. It could go either way depending on the perspective you looked at it from. He folded up the letter and slipped it back into the envelope. What to do now? He would have to wait until morning to see Gardiner. Then it hit him: Cassandra Long – she knew about the affair, she'd admitted as much to Edgeworth yesterday.

He walked swiftly down the stairs and ran into Gertrude once more. Apparently, Ms Long had gone home late last night, not being able to stand this place anymore. He could understand why, but it made his life just that much more difficult. He was able to obtain her number from the staff and rang her up immediately. She sounded much better than she had yesterday, but there was still the expected melancholy in her tone. She agreed to meet him at his office tomorrow and the call ended shortly after.

Albert van Hale had mentioned the letters as well, but he was also away at the moment and had said he knew nothing about them. Edgeworth decided that there was nothing else he could do here and set off back to his office.

When he arrived back at his office, Gumshoe was waiting for him.

"Please tell me you have good news," Edgeworth said, exhausted. He sunk into his comfy desk chair and rested his elbows on the table, clasping his hands together. Gumshoe's shoulders slumped, his expression apologetic.

"I found the address but it turns out it's only a PO Box, sir."

Edgeworth sighed deeply and rubbed his temples. "I'm going to assume you couldn't find out who owned it," he stated.

Gumshoe rubbed the back of his head and glanced around the room. "That's right, sir. Whoever owned it paid in cash under what I think is a fake name – Mr. Incog."

Miles huffed out a laugh though there was no humour behind it. "Incog? As in incognito…" He shook his head, eyes drawn to the ceiling. "Why can't anything ever be simple?" he mumbled to himself.

"What was that, sir?"

"Nothing, nothing." He waved a hand in dismissal and leant back in his chair. "I'd like you to do two things for me, detective. One," he tapped a finger on the table, "ask Hannah to set up an appointment with Gardiner as early as possible. And two, I'd like you to check Ms Mina's financials."

"Sir?" Gumshoe looked puzzled by his second request.

"Right, you wouldn't know…" he trailed off as he reached into his vest pocket for a copy of the blackmail letter – he'd already sent the original off to be analysed for fingerprints. "Here." He handed over the copy to Gumshoe. The detective read it with surprise on his face. He nodded at Edgeworth and handed the letter back. Clearing his throat he said:

"I'll get right onto that, sir!" He saluted and left to talk to Hannah.

Miles sat back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. After five minutes of clearing his head he rolled his shoulders, took out the list he had made this morning and began adding to it.

TBC...