Klavier allowed himself to be shepherded out of his office and down to Ema's very untidy Prius. Apollo shoved him in the back seat and climbed in beside him. Klavier curled into a ball against the door and the attorney regarded him with alarm.

"Why can't I escape?" Klavier said softly. Apollo scooted closer so he could hear. "Mein bruder, damn it all, Apollo."

Apollo looked warily at him and then slid one arm across Klavier's shoulders and hugged him tightly. He half expected Klavier to shove him away, but instead the blond plastered himself against the attorney's body and tucked his head into the crook of his neck. He could feel the warm huffs of breath across his skin.

Klavier had been surprised when Apollo had tentatively pulled him into a hug. But he wasn't going to turn it down. He slid along the seat to achieve maximum contact between his body and Apollo's and then hid his face against the warm skin of the attorney's neck. Apollo smelled like sandalwood and something slightly spicy he couldn't name. It was a soothing scent and he breathed it in deeply. He could feel the smaller man's heartbeat under his fingers where they rested on his chest. It was beating fast, no doubt Apollo was as upset by this turn of events as he was.

Ema's gaze flicked up to the rear view mirror and her eyebrows rose at the way the two men were wrapped around each other in her back seat. Apollo met her questioning gaze with a challenging one, daring her to say anything. She kept her mouth shut. She could torment Klavier about it another day.

"We're here," she announced as she pulled into the drive. "Do you need help getting him into the house?"

Apollo shook his head. "No, just give me hand to help him out of the car. We should be OK after that."

But Klavier was able to lever himself out of the tiny vehicle and he even staggered to the front door mostly under his own steam. Apollo raised a hand to Ema in farewell and then concentrated on finding Klavier's keys.

"Where are they?" he muttered. When Klavier didn't answer he looked up to see the blond gazing down at him.

"Front pocket," Klavier said. He dug his hand into his jeans and pulled out the key chain. Apollo snatched it and quickly unlocked the door. He guided Klavier into the house, turned and locked the door behind him and then followed the shuffling prosecutor to his room.

Klavier immediately collapsed onto the bed. Apollo sighed and set to work removing his boots.

"I don't normally let people undress me," Klavier said softly.

"Really?" Apollo said politely but disbelievingly.

"Really. It's too… personal." Klavier said.

"What about when you uh… bring home a date?" Apollo asked awkwardly. Shit, why the hell couldn't he keep his mouth shut?

"Not even then," Klavier said. Apollo finally unravelled the knot of laces and pulled off his left boot. "And anyway, the last time I did that was… a long time ago."

Apollo tried to concentrate on Klavier's right boot, which was even more badly tangled than the left.

"You don't believe me," Klavier said.

"No," Apollo said mildly. "I mean, I'm not calling you a liar. Just forgetful, I guess." The right boot finally gave up and he yanked it off Klavier's foot with a triumphant yell. He stood up. Klavier rolled over on the bed to face the wall. Apollo sighed and sat down next to him.

"You can't sleep in your clothes," he said.

"I can. And I have before," Klavier told him.

"Come on," Apollo said. Klavier rolled back towards him dutifully and Apollo began unbuttoning his shirt. Klavier's skin was warm and smooth and Apollo's hands were shaking. This was a terrible idea. He should have let Klavier keep his clothes on. Klavier grabbed his wrist and Apollo stopped, staring into Klavier's ridiculously blue eyes.

"It's OK," Klavier said. "I understand. It's fine, leave it. I'll do the rest."

Apollo snatched his hand back like it was on fire. "Uh, OK." he said. "Do you want a drink or something?"

"No," Klavier said. "Just leave me alone."

Apollo fled. He wasn't proud of it, and as soon as he reached the kitchen, he was kicking himself. What the hell was wrong with him? Klavier was his friend and he needed help, and Apollo was behaving like some kind of creep. And Klavier had noticed and instead of calling him out like he deserved, had only asked to be left in peace. He took a deep breath. He was better than this. So what if Klavier found out about his crush? Who cares if he teased Apollo about it later? Klavier was his friend and Athena had told him not to leave him on his own. So he was going to act like a grown-up, suck it up and be there for his friend.

He poured water from the fridge dispenser into two glasses, took a deep breath and headed back down the hall. He tapped lightly at Klavier's door and then nudged it open with his elbow. Klavier had removed his jeans and his shirt, and was lying on the bed in a t-shirt and shorts. Apollo swallowed and then cleared his throat.

"I brought you some water," he said hesitantly.

Klavier threw one arm across his eyes. "You don't have to do this," he said. "I'll be OK."

"No," Apollo said. "I'm your friend and you need help. Unless there's someone else you want me to call?"

"Nein, nein, there's nobody else. None of the other band members are talking to me these days," Klavier told him. "You're the only friend I have left."

"Surely that's not true," Apollo objected. "Someone like you must have lots of friends."

"Someone like me?" Klavier said bitterly. "Being a rock star doesn't bring you friends. People always want a piece of you - your money, your fame, being seen with you on the pages of a tabloid. They don't even want you, they want the image. You're not allowed to have feelings, or any kind of internal life."

"I'm sorry," Apollo said.

"Why?" Klavier replied. "It's not your fault, Herr Forehead. In fact, you're one of the few people who treats me like an actual person instead of a sexual fantasy." Apollo gulped guiltily. "It's my own fault of course, I don't make it easy for anyone to get close." Klavier sat up and took the water, sipping at it and keeping his gaze downwards.

"You gave us a bit of a scare back at the office," Apollo said after a moment.

"It was a shock," Klavier admitted. "I overreacted. Ich entschuldige mich." Apollo blinked. "I apologize for scaring you."

"It's OK. I felt the same way," Apollo told him. "I mean, it's not like every atroquinine poisoning has to be about Kristoph. But it's a rare enough poison that when I heard about it, he's the first thing that came to mind."

"Ach, let's not talk about him," Klavier said. "It's hard enough trying to deal with… Thursday."

"What's happening on Thursday?" Apollo asked. Klavier's face paled again and he instinctively reached out and grasped the rock star's hand.

"You haven't been told?" Klavier said with surprise. "That's when they've set the date for Kristoph's… execution."

Apollo inhaled sharply. "I thought he was still working through the appeals process."

"Nein, he dropped his last appeal. Unless the governor intervenes…" Klavier trailed off, and stared at Apollo's hand wrapped around his own.

"Has he appealed to her? Have you?"

"As far as I know, he has not. And I have not. Must we speak of this now?" Klavier complained.

"Mr Wright and Mr Edgeworth went to meet with the governor this morning," Apollo pointed out. "That can't be a coincidence."

"If Kristoph had applied for clemency, Edgeworth would have to put the request through the main prosecutorial database and I'd get a notification. I have not seen anything like that." Klavier told him. "I think we are seeing connections where they do not exist."

"OK," Apollo said. "Let me ask you one more thing and then I'll drop it."

"Anything," Klavier said.

"Are you planning to attend?"

Klavier froze and Apollo cursed his lack of tact. After a moment of stroking his thumb up and down the juncture between Apollo's thumb and forefinger, he looked up. His blue eyes shimmered. "How can I not go?" he said.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Apollo offered. There was nothing he want to do less, but if Klavier needed his support then he would be there for him.

"It is not necessary," Klaver declined.

"That's not what I asked," Apollo said. "I asked if you wanted me to come."

Klavier looked at him sorrowfully. "It is asking a lot of you, Apollo," he said. Apollo warmed to the sound of Klavier using his name. "You were badly hurt by mein bruder and I can- It is too much for me to ask this of you."

Apollo squeezed his hand. "It's not. Who knows, maybe I'll even get some closure of my own?"

Klavier gazed at him and then his free hand came up and cupped Apollo's jaw. He leaned forward and the attorney's breath stuttered. Klavier kissed him softly on one cheek and then leaned back. Apollo's lips parted in surprise and Klavier's eyes fixed on his mouth. Apollo had a strange sense of unreality, like this was a dream and any moment he'd wake up.

"Thank you," Klavier said. "If you truly don't mind, I'd appreciate the moral support." He leaned back against the headboard and pulled Apollo closer, resting his head on the smaller man's shoulder. Apollo swallowed hard, inside he was horribly conflicted. Sitting here like this was probably as close as he'd ever get to Klavier and as such it was a terrible idea. But the blond seemed to need the comfort and he couldn't refuse. His eyes drifted closed and he let himself fall asleep. He'd deal with the consequences later.


Athena watched from the door to Winston Payne's office as Ema and a team of forensic investigators scanned for traces of atroquinine. Simon came up behind her and wrapped one arm around her waist.

"Anything?" he said in her ear.

"No," she sighed. "Not so far. And I've heard nothing from Apollo either. I hope Prosecutor Gavin is OK."

"Come on," Simon said. "We can't do anything until the forensic team are finished. Let's go get some lunch."

"We're on lockdown," Athena reminded him.

He grinned at her. "I know a great sushi place that delivers." Athena laughed at him, gaining her a hard look from Ema.

"It's a deal," she said and followed Blackquill back to his office. Once he closed the door, he pulled her close and kissed her softly, before releasing her and heading over to his desk. He leafed through a few flyers before handing one to her.

Athena began looking at the menu, although she and Simon ate there so often she could probably have recited it from memory. Simon booted up his computer and scanned his email, although at the weekend things were typically quiet, this was proving to be no normal Sunday.

"Do you still think the April May murder is related to the serial killer," Athena asked him as she handed the flyer back, pointing to the nigiri lunch special. Simon frowned as he pulled out his phone and dialed the restaurant. He barked their order in rapid Japanese and hung up, then regarded her solemnly.

"Almost certainly," he answered.

"But there are a lot of differences," Athena said. "The choice of victim, the method of killing and now the prosecutor on the case is dead."

"Perhaps Gavin-san is right," Simon mused. "If Redd White was the intended victim, and April May the puppet killer, then the careful set up by the killer went wrong. Probably, he or she hadn't accounted for White's extremely violent nature. Did the police find any GHB at the scene?"

"Not as far as I know," Athena told him. "No picture either."

"She wouldn't need a picture," Simon pointed out. "She knew who he was."

"No, it just doesn't work," Athena said in frustration.

"Too many loose ends!" Widget added brightly.

"True," Simon said ruefully. "And the murder of Payne makes no sense at all."

"I don't know," Athena said. "I've wanted to murder him in court a time or two."

Simon barked out a laugh. "You might want to keep that to yourself, my love."

Athena froze and he glanced at her curiously. "Are you all right?"

"You called me, my love," she said faintly.

Simon shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, I did. Should I not have?" He grunted as Athena threw herself into his lap.

"Of course," she said, peppering his face with kisses. "It's just you've never said it before."

"Oh," Simon replied. "Right. Well."
"Sacre bleu, you're blushing," Athena exclaimed. Simon growled at her and then tugged her ponytail to bring her mouth closer, claiming it and pressing her body close to his. Athena gasped in delight. He bit off a curse when there was a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" he snapped.

"Officer Krige, with a sushi delivery," came a muffled voice. "They told me to bring it up to you, rather than let the delivery boy in."

"Fine," Simon said and Athena slithered off his lap and adjusted her clothing. Officer Krige opened the door and offered a white plastic bag out to her, nodded at both of them and then ducked out quickly. Athena began pulling plastic containers, soy sauce and chopsticks out of the bag.

"Hey, they even included forks," she said in surprise.

"Forks," Simon repeated absently. He stared at her. "Forks!"

"What?"

"Forks!" he repeated again. "Not chopsticks!"

"I don't understand," Athena said in exasperation.

"At the crime scene, there was the remains of some chinese food," Simon said.

Athena nodded as she recalled the photos in the file. "Yes. Delivered from a local restaurant."

"Do you have the file with you?" he asked. She shook her head. "Never mind, I should be able to pull the crime scene photos up on the computer. He tapped away at it for a few minutes and then gave a triumphant shout. "Here, look!"

The photo on his screen showed two plates with the remains of some food on them. Some kind of rice and a few orange blobs that could be anything on one plate, and some noodles and vegetables on the other. The noodle plate held a pair of chopsticks, carelessly discarded but the other plate had a fork and spoon placed neatly to one side.

"OK," Athena said slowly. "So, two people ate chinese food together and one of them sucks at using chopsticks?"

"Exactly!" Simon said, looking pleased.

"I'm sorry, I'm still lost," Athena pleaded.

"Two pairs of unused chopsticks and a set of plastic utensils were recovered from the scene. Were they examined? I would guess not, since the victim was bludgeoned to death, not poisoned."

"Are you saying the original plan was for Ms May to poison the person who ended up being her killer. Redd White, or maybe someone else? By adding the poison to the utensils rather than the food?"

"Not quite," Simon replied. "What if our killer was supposed to be someone employed at the restaurant? The delivery driver for example. That person doesn't necessarily know who uses chopsticks and who prefers utensils. So just poison all of them and you're good to go. But look closely at the picture again. Those aren't the cheap disposable chopsticks from a restaurant. They're a nice pair, probably from a set."

Athena peered at the photo again and nodded in agreement. "OK. So April May had a nice set of chopsticks, that she presumably used to eat those noodles. Mr White uses the plastic utensils, which are poisoned. But Miss May is dead, not Mr White. And not by poison either."

Simon twisted his face in thought. "Yes, I know. It's not a very good theory."

"I don't see why this came to you now," Athena said, looking slightly distastefully at her own chopsticks.

"Payne loves chinese food. Adores it, but he handles chopsticks like all his fingers were thumbs. He always asks for a fork. I noticed an empty evidence bag and the remains of some General Tso's chicken in the trash. Complete with a plastic fork. The evidence bag was labeled IK-4."

"IK-4! The April May murder!"

"Indeed. What if Payne ordered lunch from his favorite restaurant, but they forgot to include any utensils. Unable to use the chopsticks, what does he do? He could go down to the cafeteria in the basement, but that's annoying and there's this evidence bag sitting there with a set of utensils in it, all wrapped in plastic. No reason to believe there's anything wrong with them, is there?"

"Oh my God! That's horrible!" Athena gasped, her hands flying to her face.

"This is why I hate poisoners," Simon said. "It's cowardly, despicable and can so easily go wrong." He began to unwrap his food slowly and then sighed.

"Maybe we should save this for later," Athena suggested.

"I think so," he agreed, and wrapped everything back up. He placed the food in the small fridge in the corner of the room.

"Let's go tell Ema about your idea and see if her results back it up," Athena suggested. "We can figure out how to make sense of it if it pans out."


Miles drove back to Klavier's house in silence. Wright was chattering away about something inconsequential and so he just let the sound wash over him. His phone buzzed and he pressed the button on the steering wheel to answer the call through the bluetooth connection.

"Edgeworth."

"It's Gumshoe, sir," the chief of police's voice boomed through the speaker. He sounded unusually serious.

"What is it?" Miles asked, a knot of concern tightening in his stomach.

"Winston Payne's been found dead, sir. Murdered," Gumshoe said unhappily. "We don't know for sure, but the medical examiner suspects acute atroquinine poisoning."

"What!" Miles barked. "Where are you?"

"Payne's office," Gumshoe told him. "Ema found him here when she was sweeping the prosecutors offices for the poison."

"And why, pray tell, was she doing that?" Miles said acidly. "I was not notified."

Gumshoe gulped and it echoed down the line. "Prosecutor Blackquill's hawk was diagnosed with a mild case and they thought maybe someone here had been targeted, but that Taka had been poisoned by accident."

"I'm on my way," Miles said, throwing his car into a sharp J-turn that had Wright screeching in terror. He hung up the call.

"Atroquinine," Wright said when he'd regained his composure. "And here we were, talking about Kristoph Gavin this morning."

"It's a coincidence," Miles told him. "Atroquinine's rare, I'll grant you, but we have had other cases where it was used."

"I know," Wright said. "It's just weird, that's all."

Luckily the Sunday traffic was light and they reached the prosecutor's office in record time. Miles strode up to Payne's office, where Simon and Athena were talking to Ema Skye.

"Mr Edgeworth!" Ema said as he approached. "Chief Gumshoe said you were coming. Hello, Mr Wright."

"What do we know? Do we have a theory on what happened?" Miles demanded.

Blackquill turned and outlined his idea and Miles felt himself blanch. "I'd like to say Payne wouldn't be so crass or stupid as to do that, but he once used a vital piece of evidence as a door stop, almost sent an innocent man to death row."

"I remember that," Wright said. "Didn't Lana wanted to fire him for it but he was too friendly with Chief Gant?"

"Yes," Miles agreed. "And since then the prosecutor's office has always been too shorthanded to afford losing him."

"So we're saying this is a horrible accident, albeit with some carelessness on the victim's part," a short balding man with bright green eyes said as he approached. Miles shook his hand and nodded.

"Mike, you know Simon Blackquill, Phoenix Wright and Ema Skye of course, but this is Athena Cykes of the Wright Anything Agency. Athena, this is Mike Caldwell, chief medical examiner and the best chess player in the state of California."

"Ah, chess," Athena said. "Wonderful game. Simon and I play sometimes." A dull flush spread across her cheeks and Miles found himself wondering why. Looking at the look on Blackquill's face, perhaps it was best not to know.

"The plastic fork is the same type and manufacturer as the one that should have been in this plastic evidence bag," Mike said. "You can see the knife and spoon are still in the wrapping. There are traces of atroquinine on the fork, knife and spoon and inside the bag."

Athena punched Blackquill in the arm. "You were right!"

"I'm always right," the young prosecutor said modestly.

"What a mess," Miles said heavily. "All right, I'll leave you to finish your investigation. Has anyone spoken to his wife?"

"I called Ophelia," Mike said. "I've known the Paynes for years. Gaspen and his wife are with her."

"Good," Miles said. "Wright, I'm going to have to deal with Payne's caseload, and his brother's as well no doubt."
"We can give Mr Wright a ride," Athena told him.

"No," Wright said. "I'll stay. I can always catch a cab later if Miles isn't ready to leave when it's time for me to go pick up Trucy."

"Well, I think we should go check on Apollo and Klavier," Athena said to Blackquill.

Miles raised an eyebrow at her. "The news of the atroquinine poisoning was a shock," she explained. "Chief Gumshoe arranged for him to go home and I sent Apollo with him because I was concerned for his mental health."

"Go, then," Miles said. "Let us know if there are any problems." He stalked off down the hall to his office and could hear Wright trotting after him.

As soon as he reached his office he collapsed onto the couch. "My God, Wright. A prosecutor, dead! We'll never keep this out of the papers."

Wright dropped down beside him. "You buy it, the accident theory?"

"It fits the facts," Miles said tiredly. "Much as I'm sure any number of people won't mourn Payne's death, that's not the same as actively trying to murder him."

"So how does Blackquill's bird feature?" Wright said astutely.

"I don't know," Miles admitted. "Unless Payne fed her some of his food, which seems unlikely."

"Or there's another contaminated object, somewhere in this office," Wright suggested.

Miles groaned. "Don't," he said. "The police are sweeping the entire building. They've already cleared this room, thank goodness."

"So what now?" Wright asked.

"I call my sister," Miles said. "I think we need her help."