Okay, so I would have posted this sooner but I wanted to finish writing Chapter 22 as well. I get paranoid about making plot holes, and I really didn't want to leave anything out. So now that I have that finished, I'm posting both chapters. Read and review, please? ^^
Phoenix, Miles, Gumshoe, and Missile stood around the giant oak tree. Miles found himself pacing again, thinking about the case. Let's see, a black bag and a piece of rope. Somehow, someone managed to climb this monster of a tree and place them there. For what reason? Could this have happened the night of the murder? Is it possible that Ms. Herring put those there? But she was on the roof of the shed, wasn't she? Could she have gone to both places? Or was the pollen on her jacket truly unrelated? Just where was that woman?
"Detective Gumshoe, you said the police investigated the shed, did you not?" Miles said.
"Yes, sir. We searched every inch," Gumshoe said.
"Were you able to confirm whether or not Ms. Herring was on the roof?"
"Actually, forensics got a hold of those black boots and found Ms. Herring's fingerprints and DNA."
"Fingerprints?" Miles said. "But there weren't any fingerprints on the lantern."
"The fingerprints were wiped, remember?" Phoenix said. "Besides, most people would hold a lantern by its handle anyway."
"I suppose so," Miles said. He stopped pacing and adopted a speculative stance.
Eventually, the lift arrived at the scene and the police sent a man up. A few minutes later, the officer on the lift contacted Gumshoe's radio.
"From here I see a small black bag and a piece of rope, sir. Should I see anything else?"
"I don't think so, pal," Gumshoe said into his radio. "What's in the bag?"
The radio was silent for a minute, but then the officer responded rather enthusiastically. "You're never going to believe it sir! This bag has matches and bullet casings inside!"
"What?" Gumshoe said, his excitement now rivaling the officer's. "Bring that stuff down here, pal!"
Miles tapped his forehead and looked at Phoenix. "Matches and bullet casings, how interesting."
"So the murderer was up there?" Phoenix said, looking up at the rather tall oak tree. "Why go through the trouble?"
"They probably wanted to stay out of sight. On top of that, who would think to look up there?" Miles said.
"Sure, but what about the first kerosene trail Missile picked up?"
"I suspect the kerosene lamp had something to do with it. Perhaps it was a false lead to throw us off."
"Yeah, I guess so. Does this mean there was another person involved?" Phoenix said, scratching his chin.
"That's the most likely explanation," Miles said. He crossed his arms, thinking. "I can't fathom who it could be, though."
"I think there's someone who knows," Phoenix said, after a moment's pause. "Scarlet."
"True, it is very unlikely that she isn't part of this."
Detective Gumshoe went up to them. "Alright, we're bringing the evidence down now. Forensics is going to have a field day with this stuff."
"I can imagine," Miles said.
"In that case we should probably stay out of their way and investigate somewhere else," Phoenix chimed in.
"Alright. Oh, and don't worry about Missile. I'll take him back," Gumshoe said.
"Thanks, Detective. Tell us how the tests go, okay?" Phoenix said.
"Sure thing, pal. See you later," Gumshoe said and walked away.
Miles felt a smirk tug on his lips. That detective is really charitable with information. I'd dock his pay for it if it weren't so helpful right now.
The two attorneys left the garden and Miles drove them to the detention center. Soon after arriving, they were sitting opposite of Scarlet Herring. She wasn't thrilled to see them.
"What do you want?" Scarlet said.
"We came to ask a few questions," Phoenix said.
"Such as?" Scarlet said, sounding bored.
Phoenix blinked, and his smile lost an ounce of its cheerfulness. Miles noticed his friend's sudden change in attitude and gave him an inquiring glance. Phoenix kept his eyes on Scarlet as he reached into his pocket and brought out the Magatama. He slipped it into the prosecutor's hand.
As soon as his skin made contact with the ethereal charm, Miles saw large chains and three strange red locks surrounding Scarlet. Ah, those annoying Psycholocks. I should have expected as much.
Miles gave the Magatama back to Phoenix, who was far more experienced with the device. Phoenix then said to Scarlet, "Let's start with where you were that night."
"Nah," Scarlet said, looking disinterested.
"Not telling us just makes you more suspicious," Phoenix said.
"So? You won't believe me anyway," Scarlet said.
"Just answer the question," Phoenix said.
"No, I think I'll keep quiet. That's one of my rights, isn't it? Part of my Miranda Rights or something?" Scarlet said, looking everywhere but right in front of her.
"Ms. Herring," Miles said coldly. "Look me in the eye and answer the question."
Scarlet looked directly at the prosecutor, a deadpan expression on her face. "No."
"Why not?" Miles said; his icy stare unwavering.
Scarlet shrugged and looked at her fingernails. "Is this supposed to be a good cop – bad cop gimmick?"
"No, it most certainly is not," Miles said, gripping the counter. This is getting nowhere.
Phoenix was almost suffocated by the aura of loathing emanating from Miles. "Maybe we should come back later; when we have more evidence."
"It's not like I'm going anywhere," Scarlet said.
Miles and Phoenix walked out of the room and Scarlet was escorted back to her holding cell.
"Alright, we need something more incriminating before we can get Scarlet to talk," Phoenix said.
"We need something more incriminating, period," Miles said. "Think about it, Wright. The only reason there is to suspect Ms. Herring of wrongdoing is where she was standing at the time of the murder. And now there's new evidence to suggest the shed had nothing to do with the murder at all."
"That may be true, but remember Scarlet's hiding something. I know she's connected to this case," Phoenix said. "Don't give up yet."
"I never intended to give up, Wright," Miles said passionately. "All I'm saying is that we should really think this through. There isn't even a motive to kill the victim. Or frame Coldstare."
"Maybe it involves one of Ms. Coldstare's cases," Phoenix said.
Miles raised an eyebrow. "Why would you think that?"
"It's possible isn't it?" Phoenix said.
"Coldstare didn't seem to recognize either Mr. Aflame or Ms. Herring though."
"I don't remember every single person involved in all of my cases," Phoenix said.
Miles considered the defense attorney's words. "I can't discredit the possibility, I suppose."
"Maybe we should check it out. Might as well, right?"
Miles contemplated how they were to get that information. The Police Department has plenty of records, but none are very detailed. Plus any current investigations wouldn't be on file. That would take too long to search through anyway. There must be a place that would only have files related to Maria. An idea entered the prosecutor's mind, making him cringe.
Phoenix, of course, noticed. "What?"
"Well, the Chief Prosecutor would have everything digitally saved on her computer," Miles said, not making eye contact.
"I don't think Brume wants us looking through that," Phoenix said. "Any other ideas?"
Miles couldn't help but feel incredibly guilty by merely suggesting the thought. "Another option would be Coldstare's office."
Phoenix scratched his chin. "Don't the office doors have locks or something? Hmm, Trucy has been perfecting her lock picking tricks…"
"Lock picking?" Miles said incredulously. "I was thinking more along the lines of a key."
"Sure, but the key's probably in police custody."
"Yes, but that's not the only key that can unlock the door," Miles said, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"What? Did you make a copy her keys or something?" Phoenix said, playfully.
"Why would I copy keys?" Miles asked.
Phoenix shrugged and grinned, his chin lifted. Miles couldn't tell if he was being cheerful or smug. "I dunno. So what key are you referring to?"
"There's a master key that security uses," Miles said, the back of his mind still pondering what in the world the defense attorney could have possibly been suggesting.
"So we just ask the security guard to unlock the door to someone else's office?" Phoenix said.
"Well, no. Not exactly," Miles hated himself for even thinking of stooping to such tactics. "But first let's ask Coldstare if we can look through her office."