May 19
Visitors' Area
3.17 PM
"Hey. I've been looking all over for you two."
Apollo looked around just as Trucy dashed past him. "Daddy!"
Phoenix pulled Trucy into a hug, and looked at Apollo, then Jake. He broke into a smile on seeing the former detective.
"Jake Marshall," he remarked, letting go of Trucy and extending a hand. "It's been a long time."
"Sure has," Jake replied with a grin. "I've just been takin' care of this greenhorn, showin' him what's what."
He slapped Apollo on the back again. The young attorney stumbled, and noticed to his annoyance that Phoenix was chuckling.
"Is there a reason you're here?" Apollo asked testily.
His question prompted a guffaw from Jake. "I wouldn't stand for that kinda disrespect if I were you, partner," he told Phoenix.
"Just wanted to know how the trial went this morning," Phoenix replied, composing himself. "Although if you're here, I guess it went pretty well, huh?"
"Oh." Apollo slumped a little; now he felt bad. "We bought ourselves another day, at least. We think – I think…" He hesitated, remembering how invested Phoenix was in this case. "…we could make a case for self-defence."
He watched Phoenix's smile fade and his expression go blank as the implications of what he'd said sank in. Then the older man looked at him and gave him a faint smile.
"If you think that's what happened," Phoenix replied with a nod. He came closer, slipping a hand into his pocket as he walked. "I also came to deliver this."
He dropped a plastic baggie into Apollo's hands. Inside was a small, lace handkerchief. Apollo drew it out carefully, holding it by one corner, and spread it out on his hands.
"Maya gave it to me," Phoenix explained. "Armando had it on him when he died." He turned to Trucy. "I'll see you back at home, honey." He nodded to Jake, and the cowboy shot him with double-barrelled fingers as he turned and walked away.
Trucy came up next to Apollo and had a look at the handkerchief.
"Why would Mr. Armando have a girl's hanky?" she asked.
Apollo traced the purple flower in the corner with a fingertip. "Not just any girl's," he murmured. "I think I know where this came from."
May 19
Hospital Wing Ward 3
3.26 PM
Jake agreed to wait by the door while Apollo and Trucy went to talk to Iris. Apollo hadn't forgotten her body language when he'd questioned her earlier. All three of them walking up to her, especially the big cowboy guard in his poncho and spurs, would be too intimidating.
"Nurse Iris?" Apollo called as they approached her. The dark-haired nurse was checking off a patient's chart and lifted a finger to indicate that she would be with them shortly. Apollo waited while she finished, running over what he wanted to say.
"What can I do for you?" she asked.
Apollo looked her square in the eye.
"I think you did more than just treat Armando for his wounds," he said. He opened his hand, revealing the handkerchief, neatly folded in his palm with the purple flower on top.
Iris stared at it, blanched, and took a deep breath. She let it out slowly and looked up at him.
"We talked," she murmured. "The day I treated him. He was…in a bad place."
(What, prison?) "What did you talk about?" Apollo pressed.
Iris hesitated.
"His behavioural problems," she admitted finally. "And his life…sad things, mostly." She nodded at the handkerchief. "I thought he might need it. He didn't, but…I told him to keep it."
Apollo nodded. "Nurse Iris," he began, lowering his voice. "You mentioned Armando's behavioural problems. I know this might be hard for you to hear, but…" He glanced at Trucy. "…we think maybe there's a chance that Armando attacked Gavin, not the other way around."
Her body language changed immediately. The demure nurse stood up straight and stared him down.
"How could you?" she asked quietly. "How could you even –"
Apollo held up his hands. "I'm sorry," he began. "But we know Armando was prone to violence –"
"He was sick." A faint blush coloured Iris' cheeks, but her gaze never faltered. "He was sick, and no-one was helping him." She paused, and Apollo thought he saw her lip wobble, but in a split second it was gone. "He's dead now, can't you leave him alone?"
Apollo realised suddenly that his only sympathetic, available lead was about to clam up on him. He scrambled for a way to smooth things over.
"Please," he tried, "my client's only –"
"I have work to do," Iris said firmly. "Excuse me."
Apollo cupped his forehead in his hands as she strode past them and into the office at the back of the ward.
"Damn it," Apollo muttered as they walked back towards the door. "The one person on the medical staff we actually managed to get hold of…"
Trucy tapped her chin thoughtfully.
"She shut you down pretty quickly, Polly," she murmured. "Doesn't that tell you something?"
Apollo paused and looked at her.
"…Yeah," he replied. He glanced over his shoulder, towards the office. "But I don't think we're going to get another chance to find out what she's hiding." He ran a hand over his hair and sighed. "I just hope the chief medical officer and the psychologist are more helpful..." His spikes drooped. "…if we can find them."
"No luck, partner?" Jake asked as they arrived back at the door.
"Not enough," Apollo replied, shaking his head. "I guess all we can do is try to track down Dr. de Áth and Dr. Kovacs."
"That reminds me!" Jake exclaimed, pushing his hat back a little from his forehead. "Detective Skye arrived just before you two moseyed in. She's taking another look at the crime scene. Probably oughta talk to her."
Apollo heaved a sigh. (Thank you so much for conveniently forgetting to tell me until now.) "I guess we should." He and Trucy followed Jake as he led them back to A Wing.
May 19
A Wing
3.45 PM
Apollo braced himself for a barrage of Snackoos when they arrived at the crime scene – from what Jake said, Ema'd been on the scene for nearly two hours. But the young detective barely looked up when he called her name. She was standing at the entrance of the cell, contemplating the crime scene.
"Sorry we didn't get here sooner," Apollo said, cringing slightly in anticipation.
"My fault," Jake put in, tugging the brim of his hat.
"Hmm?" Ema glanced around. "Oh, you're here." She turned back to the cell, deep in thought. Feeling a little braver, Apollo came closer and stood beside her.
"So…" Apollo shrugged. "…anything new to tell us?"
Ema shook her head slightly. "It's the damnedest thing," she murmured. "I can't figure out how the bunks got knocked over."
"Yeah, now that you mention it, they look pretty solid," Trucy agreed.
"Aha!" Ema brightened up and walked over to the bunk beds. "Solid, yes. But stable…" She put her hand on the frame and shook it. The beds wobbled and Apollo saw that the legs were slightly uneven. "…no." Ema let go and crouched, waving them over. "We found…" She pointed under the bed. "…that piece of card, which they'd used or tried to use to steady this thing."
Apollo looked, and saw a folded up scrap of grey cardboard lying in the corner of the cell, near the bars.
"Anything interesting about the card?" he asked.
Ema shook her head.
"No," she answered. She stood up again and Apollo did likewise. "But even though the beds are wobbly…" She shook her head again. "…I still can't guess what happened in here to make them tip over."
"The beds were lying on top of Armando and Gavin, right?" Apollo said. "If one of them shoved the other back against the bunkbeds…"
"That's what I thought at first," Ema replied. "But we tested it at the crime lab, and it didn't work."
"Crime lab?" Trucy asked. "I thought all they did there was analyse blood and fingerprints and stuff."
Ema smiled, clearly delighted to talk about investigative science.
"Oh, we do that there, too," she replied, "but we also carry out crime scene reconstruction. We made a replica of the cell and two police officers, roughly the same size as the victim and the defendant, tried shoving each other into the bunks to see if they fell over."
"But no dice?" Apollo asked.
"None," Ema answered.
"What if…" Trucy paused and thought for a minute. "…what if they were fighting on the bunks? Like on the top bunk?"
"We tried that too," Ema replied. "It worked all right, but our victim and defendant rolled off over the toilet and ended up on the other side. When they tried it in the bottom bunk, the beds didn't move." She heaved a sigh of frustration. "Eventually we had to take everything down and let the team investigating the fire start building their mock-up. So I came back here to see if I could figure out the answer."
Apollo frowned. "I thought the cause of the fire was already solved," he replied. "We got a report this morning that it was caused by an electrical fault."
"They determined the cause, sure," Ema explained, "but not how the fire spread. That's crucial information – if detergent or laundry acted as fuel, if the wall coverings made the smoke more toxic or helped the fire burn faster, or even if the design of the stairwell helped funnel the smoke and helped the flames to travel faster, we need to find out."
Trucy nodded. "So the forensics team are building a model of the laundry room and the stairs?"
"An exact replica," Ema replied. "Made with exactly the same materials, with everything just where it was on the night it happened. Then, they'll cause an electrical fire, let it burn for as long as the real fire did, put it out, and record all the data." A wistful expression settled on Ema's face. "Now that's science."
(What, setting things on fire?!) Apollo thought.
"You'd rather be doing that than here with us, huh?" Trucy said with a smile.
Ema smirked at her.
"Well, they won't be starting the reconstruction till tomorrow morning," she replied. "I just might be assigned to log some of the data."
(Something tells me you will.) Apollo ran a hand over his hair.
"I guess we'll be going, if that's all," he remarked. "We've got some witnesses to track down."
Ema nodded. "Sure," she said. "I don't think I'll stay much longer, either. Good luck."
"Thanks," Apollo replied. He turned and walked towards Jake, Trucy following him. The trio headed downstairs, leaving Ema still standing in the entrance of the cell.