Episode B2: Time for Turnabouts, pal!
Episode B2-1: Partners In Crime
[written on the back of an old napkin, found in Gumshoe's desk]
Sept. 15. 8:41 AM. Gourd Lake.
Gumshoe may be an idiot, but he wasn't stupid. He wasn't the best detective in the world, but you didn't have to be Herlock Sholmes to notice how tense Pamola Wright was. Her foot was tapping against the floorboard of the cruiser, and her arms had been crossed the whole ride. That didn't mean Gumshoe knew why she was upset. She'd never acted this way when she talked to Bruce Goodman. The large man shrugged, pulling the police car into the lake's public parking. Maybe she was just having a bad day. Yeah, that was it! And it was up to good 'ol Detective Dick Gumshoe to raise her spirits!
"Well, here we are, pal!" Gumshoe put the vehicle in park. "Now let's solve this murder together, yeah?" But Pamola was already out of the car, the door slamming shut behind her. Gumshoe blinked and laughed. It sounded a little strained. "R-right, better to get started fast!"
Gumshoe exited the car and followed Pam, making his way down the main path of Gourd Lake. The leaves were changing from dark green to orange and red. Gumshoe stepped on a few of the leaves, making them crunch underneath his boot. He easily caught up to Pam thanks to his long strides.
"Do you remember the case file, pal? I have it right here in case you need to look over it again." He patted his pocket, the file crumpled up inside. The young detective rolled her eyes.
"Of course I remember it. A man was hit over the head with a rock, and his body was found floating near the shore at the east end of the lake. It's not exactly a hard murder to remember."
"Hey, I was just making sure you were in tip-top shape! This'll be our first big case together, you know? I've got to make sure you know your stuff."
Pamola didn't say anything, instead choosing to rub her hands together to ward off the slight chill in the air. She looked loads better than she had a few weeks ago. Back during the Mia Fey case, she had looked downright sickly. That's why Gumshoe had tried to help her out when Mr. Edgeworth told him to lock her up. A few good meals and she was looking better than ever, and she didn't look so tired.
When Chief Gant told Gumshoe that Pamola would be put under his care, he was a little nervous. The youngest detective in their precinct had a known wild streak. It seemed like the only person she listened to was Detective Goodman, and sometimes even that wasn't true. Gumshoe knew he had to keep her in line, for her own good. If Mr. Edgeworth so much as heard the name 'Wright', his face would get all red and he would growl out a bunch of fancy sounding curses. Gumshoe wasn't sure who his boss disliked more: the defense lawyer, or the detective.
Gumshoe sighed, seeing the yellow police tape in the distance. If he didn't bridge things over with Mr. Edgeworth and Pamola, then he was in for a world of hurt. He liked his job, and he liked Pamola well enough, but it wouldn't do to have those two at each other's throat so often. Mr. Edgeworth had told Gumshoe to put his new partner on deskwork, which only managed to make Pamola more and more angry with every passing day. Gumshoe had only just managed to convince the prosecutor to let her come on a case with him. The large man had a feeling that his tiny amount of luck was soon to run out, especially when Pamola Wright was involved.
The two ducked under the tape, walking over to where the body was. Gumshoe saw Pamola put on a pair of gloves, and after a second of hesitation, he did the same. He struggled to pull the blue gloves over his hands while the rookie crouched next to the body.
"Okay, Otto. What can you tell me?" Pamola's voice seemed to summon the young forensic scientist. The man winked at her, though she didn't notice.
"Nice to see you're back on the job, Pams. As for this poor sap right here, he was clocked over the head with that rock over there." Otto pointed to a large stone, blood covering a good portion of the bottom. "After that, his body was thrown into the lake. There are no other serious injuries, so I believe he died a few minutes after being hit. From the state of his body, I'd say he was killed sometime last night, and the body floated to the shoreline this morning."
"Don't call me Pams. Who found the body?"
"That cutey over there." Otto stood, nodding his head to someone a little farther up the bank. It was a woman with short black hair who looked to be splattered with paint. There was an easel with something drawn on it close by. Gumshoe looked at Otto, who was pulling his shades off and replacing them with clear goggles. "If you need anything else, I'll be back at the precinct. Someone has to move this body and examine it, and unfortunately that's me. We'll have to catch up later, lovely Pamola."
Otto tried to grab Pamola's hand, but she was quick to slap it away. "Get lost, Casanova." She picked up the victim's bloated hand, flipping it over and examining the palms. "It's hard to see, but it looks like he had a ton of dirt under his nails, and his hands are pretty rough as well. He must have done a lot of work with them." Gumshoe barely heard her, slowly inching his way over to the painter lady. The first rule of crime he learned was that the criminal always returned to the scene of the crime. Who else could it be other than that her?
"Hey, hey, Detective!" Pamola was standing up now, walking up next to him. "Where are you going? The body is over here."
"Well, what do you think I'm doing, pal! I'm going to arrest that woman for the murder of this man!"
"What…" Pamola shook her head a little, mouth open in shock. "Detective, we haven't had the slightest clue she had anything to do with this case! You did the same thing to Maya Fey, and she turned out to be innocent!"
Gumshoe stopped mid step. He tugged on his loose red tie, feeling like a bug under the young woman's stare. Why did it suddenly feel way colder?
"Well, see, you can't always get the right guy—"
"No, you know what?" Pam strode in front of him, toward the witness. "I'm talking to her, and you are going to stand behind me and look intimidating. Got it?"
"Got it!" The words slipped out of Gumshoe's mouth before he could stop them. It had sounded like the order had come from Mr. Edgeworth, not the rookie he was supposed to be supervising. He ran to catch up. "Hey, I'm supposed to be giving the orders around here!" Pamola didn't seem to hear him.
"Excuse me," she called, waving the officers away from the woman. Pamola removed her glove and shook the painter's hand. "My name is Detective Wright; this is Detective Gumshoe. I was told you were the one to find the body?"
"Yes, that's correct." The woman's voice was distinctive and clear. Her eyes seemed to change colors in the sunlight: one moment they were blue, the next green and then grey. "I was painting the lake when I noticed something strange. See, when I paint, my brush moves faster than I can process. Sometimes I create something and only notice it later. I was finishing up the shoreline when I noticed I had drawn the body." The woman shivered, pointing to the easel.
Gumshoe was no artist, but even he could appreciate a pretty picture. The lake was a dark blue, and the trees had the staple colors of fall. He leaned forward, squinting at the strange grey blob in the corner. It could only have been the body. He stood up straight, grinning with confidence.
"And whose to say your not the culprit, huh pal? I don't see any other witnesses to corroborate your story." Pam elbowed him in the side. It only hurt a little, but he still winced.
"What my partner is trying to say is that we need to know your full story. Let's start from the beginning. What's your name?"
"Oh, well, I'm Lona, Lona Misa. I'm a self-employed artist. Usually I paint real life places, like this lake."
"And how long have you been doing this for?" Pamola nudged Gumshoe again, nodding her head at his ear. He took the hint, grabbing his pencil and a notepad out of his coat, jotting down notes.
"For fifteen years come this January. I have a blog online. You can see all my work from there."
"What made you come to Gourd Lake specifically?"
"I've heard it looks beautiful around this time of year. And it is." Lona motioned to the surrounding area. "I've never seen the season of fall personified better than at this lake. It's gorgeous."
"So you were painting the lake when you found the body, yes?"
"Of course. I had no idea that poor man was there until I painted the scene. And I've only been here for about 2 hours." Lona packed up her brushes into a large bag, eyeing her painting with thinly veiled disgust. "I swear that I had nothing to do with this. Honestly, I'll probably throw the painting away as soon as I can. It does nothing but disgust me now."
"Actually, I want to ask that you hand that painting over to the police," said Pamola. "It could be used as evidence."
"Please, take it. I have no more use for it now. I want to be rid of the thing."
"Thank you. Some of the other officers will assist you as you leave the crime scene. We'll be in touch." Pamola waved over the officers from before, and the painter was taken off, bag in hand. Gumshoe watched as the men in blue struggled to lift the painting off the easel and package it away.
"Well, that was great work, pal!" Gumshoe patted the rookie on the shoulder. It must have been harder than he thought, because he heard her back pop as she lurched forward. He laughed as she rubbed her face, frowning. "Turns out that lady was just a witness after all!"
"Yeah, but now I can't help thinking we're back to square one." Pamola looked to the tree line, where a dark blue jeep was parked. "Whose car is that?"
"Oh, that's the victim's car. I forgot to tell ya, they found his ID in his pocket. Gumshoe took the case file out of his jacket, pulling out the paper with the victim's information. "His name is Indi Yanna. Says here that he was some kind of treasure hunter."
Pamola's face scrunched up in confusion. "Was he looking for treasure in Gourd Lake? Is there some kind of legend about buried treasure around here?"
Gumshoe put the file away. "Yeah, there's a whole story about how pirates used to ride on this lake back in the old days. My ma used to read me a bedtime story about 'em. Said they hid it at the bottom of the lake, so no one could ever get it." A bead of sweat rolled down Pamola's face.
"Pirates on a lake? That's got to be one of the stupidest things I've ever heard."
"Detectives!" One of the officers by the car was shouting, waving them over. Pamola and Gumshoe quickly made there way over. The young detective got there first.
"Have you found something?" she asked, sliding her glove back on. The officer saluted to her, pointing to something just outside of the car. The driver's side door was open, and underneath the tire was a beat-up looking camera.
"Yes sir! We found this video camera. We couldn't get any prints off it, but we did find that there's a little red light on it, sir!"
"So it's still recording?" Pamola let out a breathy laugh, bending down and grabbing the camera. She held it up so Gumshoe could see. "It's basically falling apart, but it's still recording! The murderer must have tried to destroy it by using the car. Quick!" She turned to the officer who found the camera. He threw up a hasty salute. "There could be prints on the steering wheel. If the murderer tried to destroy the evidence, they may have put their hands on the wheel. Get to it, and fast!"
"Y-yes ma'am!" The officer ran away. Pamola held the camera out, looking at the cracked screen.
"By some miracle, this thing is still working. But who knows for how long? And it's dying to boot. We need to find a charger, and then we can see what our victim was recording before he died."
"Don't worry, pal, I'm on it!" Gumshoe cupped his hands around his mouth, taking in a deep breath. "HEY! WE NEED THIS CAMERA CHARGER OVER HERE, STAT!" He looked back at Pamola. Her hands were over her ears, video camera in the driver's seat. She glared up at him, and he had enough common sense to look away. His face felt a little hot. "…sorry. I can get a little excited sometimes, heheh."
"No worries," Pamola said through gritted teeth. "I'm getting used to it. Look, I think the charger will be somewhere in here…there!" She reached between the seats, pulling out a black cord. "Come on, there's an outlet by the bathroom." They made there way to the public bathrooms, finding an outlet and plugging the camera in. Pamola stopped the recording and searched for it through the camera's logs.
"Geez, pal, there sure are a lot of fancy pictures on here." Gumshoe bent down, struggling to see the tiny camera screen. There were pictures of golden cups, fancy statues, and faded old documents framed in glass. "This guy must have been the real deal."
"No kidding. Here's the video. Listen closely, I don't think I can turn the audio up anymore." The young woman hit the play button, both detectives leaning close to the camera. There was a black screen, and then a man appeared, adjusting the camera to fit his face in frame. And it wasn't just any man. It was the victim.
"All right, so we finally made it to Gourd Lake!" The man's voice was faint, almost covered up by the noise the car made. "This is the sight of the rumored treasure of the Lake Pirates! This place is going to be one of my most dangerous explorations yet. Tonight, I'm going to scout out the surrounding land, and tomorrow my diving equipment will come in. This is going to be one of my biggest finds yet, I can feel it!
"Now, what exactly is the treasure of the Lake Pirates? Is it gold, jewels, or artifacts from the beginnings of America? Whatever it is, I know that I will make a boatload of money off this! Ha, boatload, pirates, get it? Ah, I crack myself up." There was a banging on the door, and Indi rolled down his window, glaring at someone that was out of frame. "What are you doing here? I thought I told you to get lost! This is my turf, ya hear?"
Gumshoe couldn't hear what the other person said. One look at Pamola's face told him that she couldn't either. She even rewound the footage, but it didn't help listening a second time. The footage continued with Indi waving his hands out of the window.
"No way! You better pack up your gear and leave before I call the cops! There's no way I am letting you two in on my big dig!"
"Thief!" said a woman's voice. "We were here first!"
"That's not what the paper's will say." Indi waved the people outside his window away, rolling the window back up and turning to the camera. "Man, don't you just hate fans? I tell you, the Pitts are really the pits! Ha, I'm hilarious. H-hey, what are you—"
The camera showed the driver side door opening, and hands were reaching in to pull Indi out. The victim screamed, trying to crawl away, but it was too late. One pair of hands cut away the seatbelt while the other dragged Indi from the car. Gumshoe noted the sounds of the struggle and flinched when Indi's screams were suddenly cut off.
"Well, pal, I guess that's it." Gumshoe edged away from the camera. The woman put a hand on his arm, stopping him.
"No, wait! It keeps going. I just need to fast forward a bit…" Pamola did just that. The screen showed the sky changing from dark blue to pitch black. After a couple minutes, a face appeared in the camera frame. Pamola was quick to rewind, and Gumshoe found himself leaning over the younger detective's shoulder to get a better look.
"How do you work this thing?" asked the woman from before. It was hard to see her face in the dark, but luckily the car's inside lights were still on. Dim as they were, they just managed to illuminate the woman's pale skin and short, brown hair. She reached for the camera, shaking it a bit in an effort to turn it off. "Do you think that stopped it, Theo?"
"Who cares about stopping it, we need to smash it!" The man, Theo, grabbed for the camera, but the woman was in the way. He smacked her arms a couple times. "Come on, Sandy, move out of the way and give me that camera!" They couldn't get a good look at his face, but they had a great view of the tire as it ran over the camera a few times. Eventually whoever was driving the vehicle cut the engine. The camera, somehow still working, managed to catch their feet.
"Now what?" came Sandy's panicked voice. "This wasn't in the plan! I mean the jerk deserved it, always stealing our spots—"
"Uh, well, now we…book it! Come on, help me drag him into the lake…" The pair walked off, and Gumshoe heard the faint sound of a splash as Indi was tossed in the water. After that, the footage was useless. Pamola sped the video up, but it only showed the sky lightening up, and eventually Gumshoe saw Pamola's own face on the cracked screen, picking the camera off the ground.
Pamola stopped the footage then, holding the camera as if it was the Lake Pirate's treasure. "I can't believe we were lucky enough to actually see one of the murderer's faces. But how in the world did this thing withstand getting run over? Better yet, why didn't this Theo and Sandy throw the camera in the lake along with the body?"
"Well, I'm no expert, but Indi Yanna was a treasure hunter, right?" Gumshoe tucked his pencil back behind his ear, grinning despite the awful circumstances. "I bet he had some pretty tough gear for going into all these dangerous situations, pal! Plus, those two made it seem like this wasn't a planned murder. They probably weren't thinking straight! I even think I saw some other tire tracks heading toward one of the lake's dirt roads. That was probably their car, right pal?"
Pamola blinked, looking from him to the camera. "That was…actually a really good deduction, Detective Gumshoe."
"Hehe, thanks. So now what?"
"Well, we have the name of both murderers and the face of one." Pam gently handed the camera to one of the other officers, peeling off her gloves with a small smile. If Gumshoe was being honest, that was scarier than the glares. "Now we do some research. If Theo and Sandy are local treasure hunters, then this should be a really easy case to solve!"
"Right, lead the way pal—" A loud ringtone stopped Gumshoe in his tracks. Pamola raised an eyebrow as he pulled out his phone. The large detective gulped. It was Mr. Edgeworth. This isn't gonna be good…He flipped it open. "H-hello, sir!"
"Detective, how goes the investigation?" Gumshoe could hear Mr. Edgeworth pouring something into a cup. He bet it was tea. It was around that time after all. "I hope you have a suspect for me. I do get so bored when there are no criminals to convict."
"Well, not exactly, Mr. Edgeworth, sir." Gumshoe winced. Mr. Edgeworth was sighing disappointedly, and Pamola had gagged as soon as she heard his name. "But we do have a really good lead on who the murderers were. Pamola and I—"
"Oh, don't even get me started on Wright. I just managed to forget that bluffing brother of hers. I was finally starting to have some peace."
Pamola marched up to Gumshoe, pointing at his phone. Despite the fact that he was much taller, Gumshoe shrank back. "What's he saying?" she demanded. "I bet he's throwing a little temper tantrum, isn't he? What, does he want to put me in a cell again? Or is he going to put me on desk duty in some petty form of revenge?"
"Now, Detective, there's no need—" Gumshoe regretted ever opening his mouth. Now he had to listen to both an angry prosecutor and spiteful detective.
"Oh, just fantastic," muttered Mr. Edgeworth. "She's so loud, it's no wonder I can hear every word she's saying. Perhaps you should tell her to shut her mouth, Detective Gumshoe, before it lands her in more trouble."
"Er…" Gumshoe shuffled from foot to foot, never taking his eyes off Pamola. "Mr. Edgeworth suggested that you be a tiny bit quieter—"
"Oh, like he's one to talk!" Forgetting about her week of punishment, Pamola laughed and put her hands on her hips. The girl showed no fear of the person in control of her paycheck. In some ways, Gumshoe admired her courage. However, the older man liked keeping money in his pocket, and was glad he had learned when to shut up. "The man loves the sound of his own voice so much that it's a wonder he hasn't married himself yet."
"It may be best to remind the young, inexperienced detective that I have more desk work I need her to complete." Gumshoe couldn't tell if that whistle was the sound of the prosecutor's tea kettle boiling, or if it was just the man in question. "Or you could tell her that evaluations are coming up soon, and I am not known to be merciful."
"W-well," Gumshoe tried again, whimpering at Pamola's harsh look. "M-Mr. Edgeworth says—"
"Oh, screw what 'Mr. Edgeworth' says!" Pamola yelled, putting air quotes around the prosecutor's name. At the same time Mr. Edgeworth barked, "Grow a backbone, Detective, she's only a child!" Gumshoe didn't feel like a big strong policeman then. He felt like a kid, being scolded by both his parents. He sighed.
"I'll…update you soon, Mr. Edgeworth, sir."
"Next time, do try to keep Detective Wright away from the phone. I believe I've lost my ability to hear…" The prosecutor hung up sharply, and Gumshoe put his phone in his pocket while Pamola continued to fume.
"Great, now we're gonna have Edgeworth on our backs all day!"
"Actually, Pamola, it's Mr. Edgeworth—"
"Whatever," she spat, stalking away toward their cruiser. Gumshoe felt like an elephant had parked itself on his shoulders. He followed the young woman, shoulders hunched. He was going to need to talk to Detective Goodman about how to control the young detective. Otherwise, Gumshoe was in for a world of hurt. Mentally, and in his wallet.
Sept 15. 5:00 PM. Police Department. Pamola's Desk.
After a few hours, Pamola had finally calmed down enough so that Gumshoe could talk to her some more. He was walking out of the elevator when he saw her, furiously typing away at her desk. Holding the updated autopsy report in one hand, he walked over.
"Hey, pal, look what I got!" He slapped the report down on her desk, disappointed when she didn't so much as look. He straightened his shoulders anyway. "It's all nice and neat and ready for the courtroom!"
"Yeah, that's fantastic, Gumshoe, but check this out." Pamola pointed to her screen. On it was a picture of two people, and underneath it was a banner that read 'S. and S. Pitts, Treasure Hunters'. Gumshoe's mouth fell open when he looked at the picture again.
"That girl, she's the same one from the video footage!"
"Exactly. With the video safely stored, we have proof that she was there at the scene of the crime at the moment the victim was killed." Pamola leaned back in her chair, stretching. "The only issue is the man. We need to know if he was this Theo person. If so, that also puts him at the crime scene."
"Then let's get going, yeah? There's an address right here!" Gumshoe leaned forward, face close to the screen. "It says they're at 'Treasure Lane'? Hey, what's with these people being obsessed with that word?"
Pamola stood, grabbing her phone from the table. "All right, let's get going. It's actually pretty close to here. Give me the keys." She held out her hand. "I'll drive this time."
Gumshoe bit his lip, remembering when Mr. Edgeworth had told him of when the young detective had almost hit the prosecutor's fancy red car. After that mess, Gumshoe wasn't sure he wanted to be anywhere near the wheel with Pam. But…if I bring up Mr. Edgeworth's name again, that'll only serve to make her madder. So, reluctantly, he handed over the keys. And soon they were on the road.
Gumshoe was tense at first, but after a bit of driving, he found himself relaxing more. Pamola seemed more chill when she was behind the wheel, probably because it gave her something to do. Gumshoe mentally sighed. Maybe Mr. Edgeworth had been overreacting after all. He did tend to do that sometimes, especially in regards with the poor detective's salary…
"Gumshoe," Pamola had reached over, snapping a hand in front of his face. He jumped, hitting his head on the top of the car. She put her hands back on the wheel, trying to hold back a laugh. "You were spacing out."
"Sorry, pal. What's up?"
"I just thought it would be good to go over our game plan. These two are probably really jumpy, so we need to go in as if we don't know they're the killers."
"Whaddya talkin bout, pal? We can't let criminals slip through our fingers!"
"And yet they will when they see the first sign of trouble." Pamola took a left onto a tiny little dirt road before continuing. "These people run on impulse. They didn't mean to kill Indi, and yet they did. There's no way to know what they'll do, so we'll have to be as subtle as possible."
"Oh, I get it. Don't worry, kid." Gumshoe saluted to her, his elbow hitting against the window. "I'm the most subtle person you'll ever meet." Pamola looked at him, eyeing him up and down before turning back to the road.
"Sure. Listen, what I'm trying to say is that I'll do the talking again, all right? If there's trouble, just have my back and I'll have yours." Their destination was coming up. Pamola parked near a squat little building, checking her gun before exiting the car. "Hopefully, we'll be in and out with our suspect in cuffs. Sound good?" She closed the door on him before he could answer. Gumshoe watched her go, fumbling with his own gun at his hip.
"I can do the talking too…" Did Goodman have as much trouble connecting to Pamola, or it is just me? Gumshoe would admit, he hadn't made the best first impression when he had first met Pamola. Honestly, the whole Mia Fey case was a huge bungle on his part. But that didn't mean he was bad at his job. It just meant he made a couple mistakes, just like any other human being.
Seeing that Pamola had stopped to wait for him, Gumshoe quickly exited the car, praying things would get just a little bit easier from here on out.
The building before the duo was old, basically falling apart. It looked like someone had taken a warehouse and turned it into a home. There were two barn doors at the front, falling off their hinges. The sides of the building were a dull blue metal, and Gumshoe thought he saw a couple holes in the roof. Pam raised a hand, knocking on the doors.
"Hello? This is the LAPD. We just had a couple questions for you." The two waited outside for what seemed like hours, but in reality, it was just a couple minutes. Soon, someone came to the door, opening it just a crack. Gumshoe could make out a pale face with buck teeth and scraggly brown hair.
"What do you want?"
"Sir, I'm Detective Wright, and this is my partner, Detective Gumshoe. We were investigating a murder that happened rather close to here." Pam sighed, faking tiredness and hunching her shoulders. Gumshoe tried to copy her, though he felt a bit foolish doing it. "Listen, you're the fifteenth person we've talked to today. We're really just doing this so the department lays off our backs. If you wouldn't mind giving us a few minutes, then we'll be out of your hair."
The man glanced at the two off them and closed the door. Gumshoe heard the sounds of various locks being undone. The door opened back up, wider this time, and the detective got his first good look at the man. He was a little taller than Pam, with dirty clothes and dingy overalls. Gumshoe tried to see if his shoes matched those of the ones in the video, but he couldn't tell. The man waved them both in, closing the door and locking up behind him.
"Sorry 'bout the locks," he muttered, bolting the door closed. "People try to steal from me a lot. Now what's this you wanted to ask me about?"
Pam feigned a yawn, her eyes scanning over the area. There were boxes everywhere, each containing something rare or valuable. There was nothing in the boxes that was exactly eye catching, but Gumshoe thought that some of the stuff could be sold for a good price. There was some sparse furniture, as well as a TV. A car had been parked in the corner of the room, it's tires caked with mud.
"Well," Pam began, hand gently resting over her holster. "There was a murder last night. The victim was a famous treasure hunter. Have you ever heard the name Indi Yanna?"
The man's lip twitched. Was Gumshoe seeing things, or was he starting to sweat as well? "I think I've heard of him. It's a shame he's dead."
"Oh, yeah, I heard he was a real swell guy." Pam was walking along the aisles of boxes, inspecting them without much care. "Everyone we talked to said he was a really good treasure hunter. Always willing to share his finds with others to further future hunts—"
"Well, I don't know who told you that," spat the man. "He was nothing but a low-down, rotten thief. He was always stealing everybody's finds."
Pam hummed. Gumshoe caught her smiling at one of the fancy cups in a box. She pivoted on her feet. "Sorry, we introduced ourselves, but we never got your name, sir." The man pulled at a loose thread on his shirt.
"Uh…I'm known as Snake in the business. It's on my website."
"Oh, uh, what's your legal name, pal?" Gumshoe couldn't stop the outburst, not even when Pamola was subtly glaring at him out of the corner of her eye. He rubbed the back of his neck with a grin. "We need it for our…report."
"Uh, sure." Snake put his hands in his pockets, eyes bouncing between the two detectives. "Sorry. Theodore Pitts. Or just Theo. But I really prefer Snake—"
And just like that, the trap had been sprung. Pamola took a step toward the suspect. He must have noticed the change in the air, because Snake copied her movements, taking a step back.
"Theo, was it? That's an interesting name. In fact, we've heard it before, just this morning."
"H-huh?"
"I believe there was a video of you on a camera, right at the scene of the crime. Tell me," Pamola paused, pointing to the car in the back of the room. "Did you take that car to the scene of the crime last night? Is that what you used to follow Indi before you struck him over the head with a rock until he died?"
Snake had backed up even more, but soon his back hit the wall. Gumshoe took that as his cue. He quickly grabbed Snake's arms, putting them behind his back. Pamola walked forward, arms crossed and eyes scanning the room again.
"I don't know what you're talkin' about!" But Snake's outburst was considerably less terrifying with how much he was shaking. Gumshoe shook his head and tightened his grip, hands itching to grab the handcuffs at his hip.
"You have the right to remain silent, pal."
"So, Snake, tell me this. Where exactly is your sister?" Pam pulled her gun out of it's holster, continuing to search the room. "I believe her name was Sandy, right?"
"Not here," Snake muttered. Gumshoe saw the man's head turn to the right, seeming staring at an empty pile of boxes to the left. "She'll be long gone soon enough. Both of us will."
"What are you—" Pamola was turning around. She must have seen something Gumshoe couldn't, must have read what Snake's weird posture was. Her eyes followed Snake's, ending on the pile of boxes. Gumshoe saw her eyes widen and got the impression that something was about to go very wrong. "Gumshoe, get down!"
He did as ordered, taking the suspect down with him. Not a moment too soon. The sound of a gunshot rang through the air as Sandy Pitts leapt from her hiding place. She fired off another shot at Gumshoe. He barely got out of the way, hiding behind the old couch nearby. Unfortunately, in doing so, he had let go of Snake. He cursed, reaching back out to grab the man, but was bowled over by Pamola as she took cover herself. Thankfully, it took a lot more than a skinny girl to knock the breath out of this detective. He helped her sit up. Both detectives had their guns in hand.
"Come on, Theo, we have ta move!" There was the sound of retreating footsteps. Gumshoe poked his head out from behind the couch, aiming his gun at the fleeing duo.
"Freeze, or I'll—YAH!" He hid back behind the couch as another bullet fired at him.
"Gumshoe, keep yourself down!" Pam put a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to stay put until the footsteps had faded. Pam took a deep breath. Gumshoe saw her hands were shaking as she put her gun away. "I…think they're gone. That was way too close. Are you okay? You weren't hit, were you?"
"Oh, me? No, I'm okay, pal." Gumshoe stood up, surveying the area. The two Pitts had disappeared out a side door. Their car was still here, so they must have run off on foot. The door was still swinging from their escape. "Quick, if we run now, we might still be able to catch—"
"Gumshoe!" The man was pulled back as Pamola yanked on his green coat. She was glaring at his coat sleeve, and he wasn't sure why until he looked at it. It had a hole. The bullet must have come a little closer than he realized. It made his heart skip a beat, but he managed to pat down his panic. Pamola punched him in the arm. "I thought you said you weren't hit!"
"Well, I wasn't. Don't worry, pal. See?" He held out his arms for her to inspect. "I'm as fit as a fiddle!" He watched as the young girl looked over ever inch of his arms, and then every inch of his chest, and then every inch of his face. Was he seeing things, or was her face waaay paler than usual? A lightbulb went off in his head, and Gumshoe couldn't help but chuckle. "Wait a minute. Are you worried about me, Pamola?"
She tried to run a hand through her hair, but since it was in a bun, she just ended up bopping herself. "Of course I'm worried! They had a gun and tried shooting at you! You could have been killed!"
She stuck her hands in her pockets, but Gumshoe could still see she was shaking. Oh man, is she that scared about this? She wasn't even the one getting shot at! Still, the thought of someone being that worried about him made Gumshoe feel all fuzzy inside. It wasn't as if anyone at the precinct cared that much about him. He wasn't even sure Mr. Edgeworth saw him as more than another cop to be used. And yet, despite only knowing him for a little while, Pamola still showed she cared, in her own strange way.
Gumshoe laughed, forgetting they were in the middle of their suspects home. He slapped Pam's shoulders, a bit more gently than usual. "Aw, it's nice to know you care about me, pal. Honestly, I thought you hated me." Pam's nose scrunched up.
"I don't hate you."
Well, you sure do have a weird way of showing it, pal. Gumshoe's phone started to ring again, and Gumshoe winced when he saw it was Mr. Edgeworth again. Pam noticed his change, and her face immediately went slack. Gumshoe answered the phone, following Pam as they left the building. Pam opened her own phone, contacting the department and telling them to get some officers to the area.
"This is Detective Gumshoe—"
"Detective, my time is very precious." Mr. Edgeworth's voice told Gumshoe that the prosecutor was annoyed. That didn't bode well. When the grey-haired man got angry, Gumshoe's paycheck suffered. "Please tell me you've found something of note."
"Well, actually, sir, things didn't go exactly as planned."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, the good news is, we found both our suspects, and confirmed that they were the one's to kill our victim. The, uh, bad news…" Gumshoe rubbed the back of his neck. "They might have gotten away."
Mr. Edgeworth had gone silent. Gumshoe felt himself begin to sweat the longer he was left in silent. Pamola had finished her own call and was waiting for him at the car. Mr. Edgeworth sighed.
"My office. Now."
"Y-yes sir! Right away, sir!" The line cut off. Gumshoe could swear he heard his salary getting cut as well. He slid into the passenger seat, trying to keep his dismay at bay. Pamola waited until the other cop cars arrived before getting into her own seat.
"What did he want?" she spat.
"Mr. Edgeworth wants us to come to his office. He sounded pretty serious. Maybe we should—"
"Look, you can do what you want," Pamola said, holding up a hand. "I'm already frustrated that we managed to lose our killers. I don't want to put Edgeworth's ire on top of that. He seems to like you well enough. How about you go see what he wants, and I'll try and figure out where the Pitts went?"
Gumshoe stared at her in confusion as she started up the cruiser. "How do you plan on doing that? They left without a trace, and one of them has a weapon! If you think about going after them alone, then you're dead wrong, see?" Gumshoe held up a fist. Pamola shook her head, lips tugging into a frown.
"I'm already wasting enough time as it is," she mumbled, so quiet that Gumshoe had to strain to hear her. "I should be looking into Megan's address, but I just haven't had the time…" She shook her head, pulling back onto the main road. "There's no way around it. I'll have to make a phone call."
"Phone call? To who?"
"An old friend of mine. Don't worry about me. Just worry about keeping Edgeworth off our backs."
Gumshoe fell back into his seat, holding back a sigh. Now that might prove to be difficult. But he was a detective. He could handle an angry prosecutor, right?
Right?
Hey guys! Here's the start of the Gumshoe POV episode! I have a bit of unfortunate news. My life has gotten extremely busy as of late. You would not believe the garbage this gremlin has had to go through. I still plan on posting, but I may not be able to post every Friday anymore. I may just post when I can. Also, because I have less time to write, that also means I have less time to proof my stuff. Errors are probably going to be more and more common. If you see a mistake, lmk so I can fix it asap.
Hopefully you don't mind about the schedule change. Thanks again for all the support. xoxo - GBG