Chapter Nine :: Turnabout International :: Investigation :: Day 1 :: Part 2

Kiria left the Prosecutor's Office a few minutes later with a few names and absolutely no leads. Evangeline Illane had been dead for five years, and yet her daughter, Madeleine Hamarch, was a spirit lingering around in the current world. She had a crime scene that made no sense, three case files that she didn't know how to tie into her current case (not that she really had one other than maintaining Reiko's innocence), and a dead body that no one could seem to identify. What in the world was going on?

She kicked up her heels as she walked toward the International Attorney office again. She wanted to walk with as much confidence as to shake the ground where she stood, to intimidate any that might stand in the way of justice. Unfortunately, her four-inch torture devices did nothing more than clack gently against the ground. She felt oddly inconsequential, a lone warrior for truth among a crowd who knew nothing, who'd seen nothing, who wanted to see her fail.

But now was no time to falter. She had two clients, two people that needed her help. She could despair later. She might join Phoenix, curl up on his couch, and start grieving for everything that had happened in the last two days. But now was action time.

She started off by going back into the Case File Room. Right now, Madeleine was her best lead, and there was no better place she could think of to start. She peered around for the girl, but found the room empty. "Madeleine? Are you here?"

The petite girl appeared in the doorway. "You're back!" She sounded surprised, as if she had expected the lawyer to desert the room forever. "I thought you were going to get help? You were going to get my mom, remember?"

Kiria nodded. "I'm trying to find her. I need more information, though. Do you mind talking to me a little?"

The girl shook her head. "What do you want to know?"

Kiria waved for the girl to sit as she slipped her shoes off and seated herself as well. "I got your file from the Prosecutor's Office. You're Madeleine Hamarch, right?"

She nodded. "Uh huh. My dad's name is Christopher Hamarch. He's a detective."

So the dad's a detective and the mom works here? Isn't the Precinct a better place for a child than a Case File room? "Can you tell me a little bit about your mom? Her name is Evangeline, right?" She opened up the case file in her bag. "It says here that she's a prosecutor."

She nodded. "She's been working here for a few years now. It's been the Prosecutor's Office for years."

She scanned the file. Things weren't making sense. This wasn't the Prosecutor's Office, but the International Attorney's Office. Evangeline was dead. She opened the other file, Madeleine's file. The date of birth caught her eye. How could . . . she look like she was ten, and yet in reality be eighteen? "Madeleine, how old are you?"

The girl looked baffled by the question. "I'm eleven. Why?"

She pushed the file toward the ghost. "Is this your birthday?" she asked, pointing at the date.

"Yeah. So?"

She doesn't realize that she's any different age. She doesn't realize that seven years have passed. How long has she been in here anyways? Has it only been a day, or could it be more? What is going on here? A strange silence fell over the two as Kiria wondered how she could break the news to the child. Should she break the news to Madeleine? It was time for foreign intervention. "I'll be right back. I need to make a call."

She was on the phone with Maya as soon as she walked out the door. "Spirits. Dead spirits. What can you tell me about them?"

"What?"

She sighed. "I'm trying to talk to that spirit that I told you about earlier, but something's strange. Her file says that she's eighteen, but she says she's eleven. She says she's only been here for a day, but could it be longer? I'm so confused with this."

"Well . . . you know, spirits don't always appear the same way that they died. They revert to the time that they were happiest."

"Wait, so she doesn't remember anything that happened after she turned eleven?"

"No; she remembers, if she experienced it. It's going to take some time to get through to her though; she's going to pretend like she's eleven again. She thinks this is a new start; you've got to break her into remembering the present. You know how Nick used to break down his clients? You've got to hit where it hurts. Just . . . make sure you've got the evidence for it?"

"Thanks, Maya." She hung up the phone, walking back into the Case File room. "Sorry about that." She sat back down in front of the ethereal being, sweeping her legs underneath her. "Can we talk about your age for a second?"

She knew she'd hit a nerve as soon as Madeleine's eyes snapped open and then narrowed in defense. "I'm eleven."

"Unfortunately, I have your file here. That's impossible. You saw the year on your date of birth. If you subtract the year you were born with the current year . . . it would make you eighteen."

Madeleine's jaw chomped down angrily. "Ridiculous." Her form faltered suddenly, her face growing thinner, her arms and legs becoming longer, and her body morphing into a more curvaceous form. It seemed to reflect her eighteen years more honestly, less of an outlier. She looked maybe thirteen at this point, and Kiria knew that she was getting somewhere. She was hitting the right points, finally. Madeleine seemed to realize that she couldn't fight the point. "So what if I'm eighteen? What does that have to do with anything?"

Kiria slipped Evangeline's file from her bag. "The problem comes with your mother. What did you say about her? A Prosecutor, right?"

"Right. She works here. Aren't you supposed to be finding her right now?" The girl's new age seemed to reflect the teenage rebellious nature. "I think you're starting to waste your time."

"I'd love to find her. Unfortunately, she's dead. She died five years ago in a car accident, right?"

"N-No! You're wrong! She's alive!" Again, her shape changed, now looking exactly like the eighteen-year-old that she was. "She's alive!" As hard as Kiria stared into her eyes, she couldn't detect any deception. Either Madeleine was an excellent liar (which was unlikely, seeing as how she had reacted to her earlier secrets) or she was telling the truth. She glanced at her bag. Did she have any evidence that proved otherwise?

Or perhaps she could justify her still living. She was too far in to back out now. What did she have to justify that Evangeline Illane was still alive? She skimmed the file, staying quiet. Madeleine could easily jump onto her case and demolish it here with one fell swoop. Finally, she found the piece that could save her case.

"Evangeline's body . . . was unidentifiable. The car accident destroyed it beyond recognition. Are you telling me that . . . she isn't dead?"

A single tear ran down Madeleine's cheek. "She was alive, alright. While I lived at my father's house, she was starting to make a new life. We didn't even know. She didn't tell us, not until just a few months ago. She called my cell phone, told me that she'd just figured out her new life. I was meeting her here; she said that she was going to tell me the whole truth. Everything. What she'd been doing, what she was planning on doing . . ." Her voice trailed off.

"Wait. She hid after the accident. Why?" Kiria leaned forward, suddenly interested. "Was she in some sort of trouble?"

The Spirit shrugged. "I don't know. I was only thirteen at the time. I'd just gotten my first boyfriend; I was too absorbed in myself, not in what she was doing at work. Dad might know though."

"Christopher Hamarch, right?"

"Yeah. Sometimes Mom wouldn't get the Defendant put away, or one of the witnesses was angry with the way she was conducting herself. It's probably one of them, to tell the truth. And then when she died, Dad and I thought she was dead. Legitimately. I remember, he kept saying something a case number. I don't remember what it was though. It was like he was accusing whoever was in the case of murdering her."

"So, why did she call you so much later? Five years later, right?"

Madeleine nodded emphatically. "Right. She just called out of the blue. We haven't moved or changed our phone number since she died."

"But why contact you now?"

"I thought that . . . she felt guilty about lying to us, but that it was integral to her goal. I don't know a lot. I just know that she was trying to reach out to me again."

"And your father?"

"She told me not to tell him. She said that he'd be so angry after so many years that she would just call like nothing had happened. I mean, I was angry too, but she was my mom. I love her. I didn't tell him. When we were supposed to meet up here, I told him that I had a club after school and came here."

"What happened when you got here?"

"She looked so . . . different. I thought that she'd gotten the wrong person. But then she started talking about how we used to laugh when I was younger and about the lake trip . . . it had to have been her. She promised me that she'd explain everything, but she had to get a file in order to explain it fully. I followed her in here and . . . I don't remember. When I woke up, people were coming in and out, but no one could see me. I didn't understand it. It was like I wasn't even here. And then you came by today, and . . . I don't know. I'm just so confused. What's happened to me?"

So, Madeleine didn't realize she was dead. Kiria glanced around the room. There was very little that could have acted as the murder weapon around here. Was the crime even committed in here? One thing was certain; if Reiko wasn't the killer, there was a third person in the room at the time. Madeleine's body had also been found in the office; Reiko couldn't have carried her in there with the cane; she would have been covered in blood. There was a strange lack of blood surrounding the case. Add that to the number of unidentified bodies, and the case was confusing. Was this even related? She couldn't prove it in a court of law. It was all considered conjecture (although she doubted that talking to spirits was considered even conjecture; probably closer to insanity). She was no farther in the case.

"Madeleine . . . I don't think she's coming back. You're a . . . well, you're a spirit. You're dead. I'm the defense attorney for the defendant, and . . . you're the victim." Not to mention that no one really knew that yet other than her. "I'm sorry."

Madeleine had been devastated by the news. She'd trembled furiously, opening and closing her fists like she was holding a stress ball inside them. Tears had coursed down her cheeks in waves, and she turned different colors: blue, green, and finally red with anger. Her transient shape was fluxuating with her grief and anger. She'd only been eighteen when she'd died. She wouldn't experience so much of her life; she'd never go to college, fall in love, get married, have children. She'd experienced so little of life.

It made Kiria think about her own situation. She was only three years older than the deceased girl. How much had she experienced? She'd been to college, but had never fallen in love. She didn't want children, or not yet anyways. Her own life suddenly seemed temporary.

She left Madeleine to her grieving alone. She had work to do. After all, it was her responsibility to solve the case, get Reiko declared Not Guilty, and find out what had happened to who they'd all assumed the victim was. Where was Ava Kutsch? She should have turned up by now. Where is she?

She was in the small hallway between the office and the Case File room when her phone dinged. 'Your mystery language isn't German, but one of the analysts in the lab thinks it's Russian. I'll do some more research for you and find out what it says. Dinner Friday? ~Klavier'

Russian? Why was Ava Kutsch dealing with a Russian case? There was a Russian prosecutor in the office already, Vladimir Doshkiya. She'd check with Vladimir, but she wasn't aware that Ava had spoken Russian. She shot off a text to the Russian before continuing into the office.

Detective Gumshoe was peering in one of the corners of the office, obviously bored. "Assigned to watch the scene?" she asked.

He jumped halfway out of his skin. "Oh! Hey, pal! Geez, don't scare me like that!" He inhaled and exhaled heavily before calming down. "Yeah, Chief said he thought there might have been something we missed." He sighed. "I don't know what to think about this case. I'd say that the Prosecution shouldn't have any problems winning, but there's just a lack of evidence."

Really? I'm thinking that there's too much evidence. She'd seen a lot that she couldn't prove. A ghost, a victim that was supposed to be Ava Kutsch but was actually Madeleine Hamarch, and Reiko Horiyama, who someone fit into all of this.

I suppose I could keep persuing this line of questioning with Evangeline Illane, but I'm starting to question whether it'll get me anywhere. I'll keep going with this as far enough to get an autopsy report for her, but if that doesn't yield anything, I've got to abandon it. I've lost a lot of light with the whole running around with ghosts. It's time to crack down. "Detective, do you know where I can get a medical report of a deceased person? I need it for my other case."

"Well, if the precinct doesn't have it, the hospital will. Do you know if it had a case?"

She shook her head. "I wouldn't think so. It was a car accident."

Gumshoe nodded. "Yep, that would be a file in the local hospital. Just tell 'em that Dick Gumshoe sent you, and they'll give you the report. Of course, your badge won't hurt either." He chuckled. "Sure you don't want to keep me company, pal? It gets kinda lonely around here without anyone to talk to."

"No, I think I'll pass." She smiled grimly. "Too much work. If I pass by Nath—Mr. Price or Mr. Edgeworth, I'll send them your way. Don't get too bored, Detective."

She arrived at the local hospital at a few minutes to four. She vowed to get her license soon; all of this walking around on large heels was excruciating.

The aide at the counter looked bored. "How can I help you?" she asked as Kiria approached.

"I need an autopsy report. I'm a Defense Attorney." She flashed her badge.

"Name?"

"Evangeline Illane. I have her file right here, if you need any more information." She passed the file over the counter.

"Alright, just a second." The woman typed a few letters into her computer, waiting for a moment before the report printed. "Here's the file. In order to take it out of the hospital, you'll have to get the Head Nurse to sign off on it. She should be . . ." she checked her chart, ". . . in Room 203 right now. Cardiac patient."

Kiria thanked the woman and proceeded to the indicated room. She got the signature without much problem, and began to go back the way she came. The problem came after.

As she was walking down the hall to the elevator (no stairs this time), her sight strayed to the people in the sick beds. Her eyes widened as she recognized one of the patients.

Her phone was immediately at her ear. "Mr. Edgeworth? Kiria Nomura. Can you connect me to Nathan? I think . . . I might have found something he would want to know."

"Something he would want to know? Wouldn't you want to keep this to yourself then?" he mused.

"Certainly not. This is something he needs to know."

She could hear him deliberate. "Alright. Good luck."

The sound of elevator music filled the silence until she could finally hear the soft click of a new receiver. "Hello?"

"Nathan? You might want to meet me at the local hospital. I think I found something."

He sighed, but it was filled with goodnatured humour. "Is this a new tactic for the Defense? To encourage the Prosecution to run all over the city until they get tired and just give up?"

"No! This is the first time I've asked you to go anywhere, you lazy bum. Just hurry up and get here." She rolled her eyes at his attitude. "Seriously. Otherwise, your case will be irrelevant tomorrow."

"I'm coming, I'm coming. Jeez, this had better be good. I'm a block away now. Where are you?"

"Second floor, right in front of Room 221. Hurry up!" she urged, afraid that a nurse might sweep in and take her breaking evidence away.

"I'm inside. Geez, it's a good thing I used to be a dancer, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to keep up with your demands. Talk about a slavedriver."

She didn't reply, but hung up. Take that for an answer. Slavedriver? As if. She lounged around in front of the door until he finally ran up.

"What's the big problem?"

She pointed inside of Room 221. "Look in there, and then look at the supposed victim in this case. I promise, Ava Kutsch didn't have a twin either."

He peered inside before gasping in a breath. "What? But that's . . .! What is she . . . who is . . . what's going on?"

"Does it matter? What do we do? We can't just barge in there, but we can't let her go either! She's essential for proving that the victim isn't her!" She leaned back against the wall. "I don't know what to do. This case perplexes me. I don't know what is up and what is down. We have a victim who isn't a victim, an unidentified body with no real autopsy report, and either not enough evidence or too much evidence. I haven't decided yet."

Nathan had his phone out and was hitting buttons. "Well, firstly, she needs to be taken into custody, because there's something wrong here. She's completely fine."

"She didn't fake her death, Nate. I don't have any proof of it, anyways. Besides, how do we know she isn't really sick and doesn't know anything about her supposed death? We can't just call in."

He began to walk down the hallway, flagging down a nurse. "Excuse me, I'm the nephew of the patient in room 221, but no one's told me anything. Is she going to be okay? What does she have? I'm thinking of getting something in the gift shop; is there anything I should avoid?" He was talking so fast that the poor nurse seemed overwhelmed by his questions.

"Let me see . . . Nina Pollock? She's in for cosmetic surgery; nothing too bad. I'd avoid any sort of perfumed substance; her face will be a little raw after her surgery."

"Facial reconstruction? But . . . why?"

The nurse peered down the chart. "It doesn't say why; says it's classified. There's a signature here, if you want to try to find more information."

She handed the chart to Nathan, and he raked it over before handing it back. "Thank you. I'm so worried about my Aunt Nina, and if she's in trouble . . ." His voice trailed off as he returned to Kiria's side, his mouth whispering in her ear. "She's having facial reconstruction, but she's already got a new identity. Good enough for you?"

"Take her in. What about the signature?"

He shook his head. "It was kind of hard to read, but I could make out the first letters. A "C" and an "H". Mean anything to you?"

"Not yet. Call it in, and we'll talk later. I don't know that we can solve this case on our own."

"Meet you at the Prosecutor's Office in ten."

"Loud and clear. I'll be waiting."

Kiria seated herself in the new Prosecutor's office, glancing around at the boxes still unpacked. Apparently Nathan had moved only recently, or was too lazy to set up. Edgeworth and Nathan stormed in a moment later.

"What is going on in this case?" Nathan demanded. "Victim? Who knows! M.O.? That's too much to ask for, huh?" He collapsed in the chair behind the desk, his head buried in his hands. "I hate this case."

"It's not an easy case. Whoever planned this covered their tracks perfectly. This has obviously been planned for a while."

Edgeworth spoke with calm reason. "Let's work from the beginning and recap. Someone has been murdered in the International Attorney building. The body is destroyed beyond recognition, but we know that the blood type is A positive, same as Ava Kutsch. We also know that it is not Ava Kutsch, and that she was trying to change her appearance and identity completely. Why?"

"We also know, unofficially, of course," she said, clearing her throat, "that the victim is Madeleine Hamarch. Her mother was supposedly killed in a car accident, but she somehow ended up alive. She then proceeded to live her life as another person in the International Attorney—oh my god."

"What?"

What if Ava Kutsch had been Evangeline Illane? The repetition of disguising herself; the hiding; facial reconstruction . . . could it be?

"I can't prove anything yet. But I have some theories that I'm not supposed to be discussing with the Prosecution. This case is difficult." She sighed. "There's just something wrong about this. There's no proof. It's all based in hypotheticals."

"Isn't everything based in hypotheticals right now? There's no proof for anything. But this is a problem that we can't share information. This case can't be solved without collaboration." A slow smile creeped across Nathan's face. "And we've got just the judge to solve that."

"What do you mean?" Kiria asked.

Edgeworth looked at his protége and responded to the young Prosecutor's unasked question with a nod. Nathan explained. "Under certain circumstances, the Prosecution can request for the Defense to work together in order to obtain a higher degree of justice. The judge has to agree that the case is beyond the ability of the Prosecution and the Defense to independently investigate. I think this might qualify." He picked up the phone, deciding her silence was implicit consent. "Excuse me for a moment while I appeal to our judge . . ."

He chatted on the phone for a bit, gossiping like old friends with the judge before a thrilled "Awesome. I'll get Ms. Nomura's signature and scan that over. Thank you!" came out of his mouth and he put the phone down. "Wanna give me your signature? I've got the form here." He slid it across the desk with a pen.

She sighed before picking up the writing utensil and signing her life away.

A/N: I'm so sorry that this chapter is late! It was about 90% done, but unfortunately, for those of you who aren't High School students and/or don't have IB in your school, this is crunch time. I've got two weeks straight of testing starting next Tuesday. Lucky me? So, the next chapter will be probably in two to three weeks, depending on everything I've got to do before Graduation.

Read and review? c: