Ema took her time observing the young woman on the other side of the table. Her mouth was pulled down in a permanent sneer. Her strawberry blonde hair was cut into a stylish pixie cut, and her gray eyes were narrowed as she took in Ema's appearance.

"Are all police detective so badly dressed?" Brandi drawled.

Ema ignored her, she was too professional to let a pathetic jibe about her appearance shake her. "So," she said, making a pretence of looking at her file. "Ms Snapps. Or rather, Ms Darke."

"Snapps is my married name," the suspect said.

"Very well, Ms Snapps, why don't we go over things from the top. Since your previous testimony was a pack of lies." Ema flashed her a grin and Brandi glowered back.

"I was just fourteen when you pigs threw Joey in jail and then executed him. For a crime he didn't even commit!"

"He didn't kill Neil Marshall, that's true," Ema said. "But he did take me hostage and we're sure he killed a bunch of other people."

"Wait, you're the girl who was tangled up in all that. You're that Ema Skye?"

"Are there any others?" Ema snarked. "Yes, that was me. So I met your brother and he was one messed up dude. Don't give me the 'couldn't hurt a fly' crap. I was there."

"It wasn't his fault," Brandi insisted. "Anyone could have ended up in that situation."

"Accidentally knocking down and killing a pedestrian? Sure," Ema allowed. "Killing the witness to that accident, then the witness to that crime and another and another? Not so much. One of them was a kid, for God's sake!"

Brandi folded her arms and sat back, her pink mouth pouting mulishly. "I'm not saying another word. You've got a conflict of interest."

The door to the interrogation room opened behind Ema and a voice said imperiously. "A conflict of interest? What a foolish idea." Ema turned around to see a woman a few years older than herself, with silver-blue hair in a tidy bob and gray eyes that regarded her intelligently.

"Prosecutor von Karma!" she exclaimed. Von Karma gave a chilly smile and inclined her head.

"Detective Skye, I presume? Forgive my intrusion but I need to speak with you." She cast a jaundiced eye over Brandi Darke Snapps. "And from hereon, this interview is mine."

Ema opened her mouth to object and then she spotted the whip in von Karma's right hand. "Uh, sure." She'd heard stories about that whip. Von Karma swept out of the room and Ema followed dutifully. She ignored the snickering from Brandi Snapps.

Out in the corridor, von Karma's expression relaxed. "Horrid woman," she commented.

"Who, Snapps?" Ema said, surprised. "Uh, yeah. But I guess grief can do terrible things to a person."

Von Karma's face turned reflective. "Indeed. But sensible people deal with it or get help. And foolish people deal with it… foolishly."

"So, uh, you wanted to talk to me?" Ema said.

"My fool of a brother trusts you. So, that is a good start for you in my book. I've read your file of course. Quite remarkable." Ema gaped at her. This was not going at all how she'd imagined. "I wasn't supposed to arrive until Friday," von Karma added and for the first time Ema could see how tired she was. "But then that foolish fool and his foolish obsession got themselves blown up!"

"Obsession?" Ema faltered.

"Phoenix Wright," von Karma snapped. "Miles has been making a perfect fool of himself over the man for years."

"Oh, uh. Yeah." Ema said stupidly. "I know what you mean."

Von Karma peered at her. "Interesting," she said.

"What is?" Ema said, alarmed.

"Most people think I am talking figuratively when I speak about Miles and that foolish attorney. But not you." Von Karma gave her a half smile. The effect was startling, she looked considerably less intimidating and really quite pretty. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Ema Skye. I believe our working relationship will be a productive one."

"Great!" Ema said, determined not to have her head turned. "So, uh, was that all you wanted to say?"

"No," von Karma said. "But it was important to set the parameters of our relationship first. I used to have to work with that moron, Gumshoe." She visibly shuddered. "Now, to business. I have a lot to do and limited time. I have to work FR-3 and the case of the car bomb that blew up Miles Edgeworth and Phoenix Wright. Which has still not been assigned a case number!"

"Oh, uh, Chief Gumshoe probably forgot," Ema said. "I'll remind him later." Von Karma appeared to be gritting her teeth. "I guess you read the FR-3 file on the plane?"

"Of course," Von Karma said, slipping back behind her professional facade. "A perfect prosecution requires perfect preparation," The smile was back. "Or a perfect interrogation. Shall we?"

Feeling more than a little nonplussed, Ema nodded and opened the door. She gestured for von Karma to enter. Von Karma gave her an unfathomable look, and then strode purposefully inside. Ema followed her and tried to regain control of her breathing.

"Well," von Karma said once the door was closed. "We certainly have a lot of foolishness to untangle here."

"Who the fuck are you, the ice bitch queen?" Brandi snarled. The whip cracked, just past her ear and she flinched. "Hey, I got rights!"

"The whip did not touch you," von Karma said coolly. "My aim is perfect. I am Franziska von Karma and I am the new prosecutor assigned to this case."

"Yeah? Well the last one was useless," Brandi said dismissively. "Prosecutors and police, incompetence or corruption, the effect is the same."

"Which is why I have been flown in especially from Germany," von Karma told her. "I am, quite simply, the best prosecutor of my generation. I will tolerate nothing less than perfection. Now, Detective Skye was asking you about how you found Angel Starr."

I was? Ema thought. But she kept her thoughts to herself.

"I got a package in the mail," Brandi said. "About six months ago. It contained some photos of Starr and a sticky note."

"What did the note say?" Ema asked.

"Not much. 'Angel Starr.' That was it." Brandi examined a fingernail for a moment. "I wouldn't have recognized her without the note. To be honest, I didn't really know what to do. Then a letter came. It promised to give me the info I needed to track Starr down, if I did this mysterious person a favor in return."

"What was the favor?"

"It seemed stupid, really," Brandi said. "All they asked was that I find a way to lure Starr to LA and exact my revenge. And for me to deliver a package from Global Studios to some guy at the Lordly Tailor department store."

"Lordly Tailor?" von Karma said sharply. "Who was this 'guy'?"

"I don't remember," Brandi said airily. "Andrew Somebody, I think."

"Adrian Andrews?" von Karma said, her voice cracking. Ema cast her an alarmed look. What the Hell was this all about?

"Yeah, that's him," Brandi said. "Never did meet him, dropped the package off with his assistant. Some mousy chick in glasses." There was a loud crack as the pen in von Karma's hand snapped in two. Ema swallowed. Clearly there was a history here.

"Well," she said, gathering her thoughts. "What happened next?"

"I delivered the package, and a new parcel arrived for me. It had a copy of Starr's Massachusetts driver's license with her new name on it, Stella Celeste if you can believe that. And of course her address. I got hired as a waitress at the Silver Diner and then I sent Starr a message, telling her Joe Darke's sister had been spotted working at a diner in LA, and the stupid bitch took the bait."

"I don't understand," Ema admitted. Out of the corner of her eye she could see von Karma was regaining her composure. "Why would you think that would be enough to convince Starr to abandon witness protection and come to find you?"

"What?" Brandi said. "Have you read none of the original case files? Starr was convinced Joey wasn't alone the night he supposedly killed those people. She had this insane idea that I was in the car with him."

"Why would she think that?" von Karma said, her tone even. Ema breathed a sigh of relief that this unpleasant woman wasn't easily able to get a rise out of von Karma.

"Because they found my purse in his glovebox. I had left it there the week before. Joey used to take me to the theater on Thursday nights because that's when our father would come back from Sacramento."

"That's right," Ema said. "Your father was State Senator Chad Darke. So he lived in Sacramento during the week and came home for weekends? Wouldn't that be something you'd stick around for?"

"And listen to my parents screaming at each other? Mom was convinced Dad was banging his secretary, even though Muriel was older than Grandma. Of course, she was right about him having an affair, just wrong about who the other party was."

"The intern," von Karma said. "A young man who just happened to be the Attorney General's nephew. I remember the scandal. Foolishness."

"So Joey would take me out to a movie every Thursday, to let Mom and Dad have their fight," Brandi said, hugging herself. "And that Thursday I left my purse in his car. He was supposed to come over and drop it off on Monday night. But instead, he got arrested for murder!"

"So Starr thought you were an accessory or even an accomplice?" Ema asked.

"I guess," Brandi said. "She was an idiot."

"On that we can agree," von Karma said. "I suggest you find yourself a lawyer, Ms Snapps. I see you still haven't selected counsel."

"I'm trying to convince Martha Bose to take my case," Brandi said. Von Karma laughed, a strange metallic sound. Ema thought it was more for effect than genuine amusement. What a strange and intriguing woman she was!

"Martha Bose Jr won't take your case," von Karma told the irritated young woman. "You've already confessed to the crime and there is considerable evidence against you. Going up against me with such a portfolio of evidence would be very foolish, and Martha Bose is no fool." She regarded Snapps for a moment and the produced a card from her vest. "Talk to Milton Grossberg. He specializes in lost causes like yours."

"Why would I take advice from a prosecutor on which lawyer to hire?" Brandi hissed.

"Because I do not need to cheat to win my cases," von Karma told her. "Grossberg is your best shot at a plea deal. He'll keep you off death row, and may even get you a sentence short enough that you get paroled before you die of old age."

Brandi gaped at her and then burst into tears.

"Spare me such foolishness," von Karma said indifferently and stood up. "Detective Skye?" She sailed out of the room and Ema was left to once more trail in her wake.


Simon was stood in front of the dry-erase board, still in Klavier's living room. Athena watched him as he seemed to be deep in thought. Taka made a soft sound and he looked over his shoulder.

"Athena," he said, a slight smile on his face.

"You look better," she said.

He gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Drowning myself in self-pity isn't really my style," he said with a wolfish grin. "And we have a mystery to solve."

"All right," Athena said, punching the air. He raised an eyebrow at her. "Hey, it's been a tough few days. How about we go for a run first, shake off a few cobwebs?"

"Not right now," Simon said. "I feel like I'm on the edge of a breakthrough."

"OK," Athena said, sitting on the couch with her legs tucked under her. "So talk me through it. Maybe that will shake something loose."

Simon took a couple of deep breaths, as if ordering his thoughts.

"Will Powers was killed by someone dressed as the Steel Samurai. With the Samurai Spear no less."

"Right," Athena agreed. "The Steel Samurai isn't as popular as it once was, although there's still a loyal following online and a huge fanfiction community still writing about the characters. So getting hold of a costume wouldn't be too hard. Or maybe they made it, I mean some of the cosplay folks put a crazy amount of work into getting their costumes just right."

"Except, this wasn't a fan made costume or a cheap copy made for sale to the public. It was an original costume, stolen from the Global Studios museum."

"I didn't know that," Athena said.

"It's in the file," Simon said mildly, waving a hand at the pile of papers and cardboard folders on the coffee table. "But it was buried deep in the preamble of the forensic report."

"OK, so someone broke into Global Studios and stole an original costume, to commit murder? Seems a bit… elaborate."

"Exactly," Simon said. "This is the whole problem with this case. It's so intricate, unnecessarily so it would seem."

Athena jumped up and scribbled a note about the costume on the whiteboard. "What are you getting at, Simon?"

"I don't know," he said in frustration. "I just have this feeling that there's something staring us in the face and we can't see it."

"OK, did you find anything else in the Powers murder that seemed odd?" Athena asked.

"Not really. A few small things, this receipt from Lordly Tailor for a decorative statuette seemed a little out of place but is probably some trash that just happened to be dropped at the scene." He offered it to Athena. She peered at it. "Is this… blood?"

"Yes," Simon said, rifling through the files. "But not Powers. We assume it was from his assailant, the spear was quite sharp." He found the forensic report on the blood from the receipt and handed it to her.

"Are you sure?" Athena said. Simon frowned at her and she waved the report at him. "This says the blood is female."

"So?"

"So, that spear is huge, and heavy. According to the report it weighs about 30 pounds. How many women could wield it at all?" Athena said. "And the costume too. Will Powers was 6 feet tall and broad-shouldered. The spear and costume were made for him. Any woman using them would have to be almost as tall. The average height for a woman in the US is five feet four inches. A six foot woman would be two standard deviations above the mean."

"I hate statistics," Simon grumbled. "What does that mean?"

"It means that 95% of women will be shorter than 6 feet tall." Athena said patiently. "So either we have a very tall, probably pretty muscular woman committing this crime - no waif-like supermodel our murderous woman - or this blood came from somewhere else, or someone else was at the crime scene."

Simon was staring at her, for so long Athena was starting to become unnerved. "You're a genius, Athena. We've missed something."

"I am? We have?" Athena said, blushing.

"Yes," Simon said. "I agree, a woman tall and strong enough to wield such a weapon is possible, but she'd have been very noticeable. The CCTV around Powers's apartment building didn't show the killer in costume until they were in the elevator. Which means they changed into the costume once they'd entered the building. We haven't identified everyone who was there that day, but a large woman like that would have been remembered."

"So, let's drop that idea to the bottom of the list," Athena said, picking up the thread. "What's next?"

"If the receipt had picked up the blood somewhere else, perhaps in an innocent fashion, then it's a dead end. But if someone else was there that day, it puts a different complexion on the crime. Either she was an innocent bystander and witness and has been too scared to come forward…"

"Or she was an accomplice!" Widget finished triumphantly.

"But there was only the killer, in costume, in the elevator," Simon said.

"Yeah, because who wants to go up or down stairs in that cumbersome thing?" Athena pointed out. "If the accomplice wasn't in a costume, they could easily run down the stairs, maybe to get the getaway car started?"

"What do we know about that car?" Simon asked, holding out his hand for the file. Athena handed the CCTV images to him.

"Late model Mercedes C-class, dark color. Camera was black and white, so we don't know exactly what color, except that it probably wasn't black, it doesn't look quite that dark."

"Not exactly an uncommon car," Simon said ruefully.

"No," Athena agreed. "But it had one distinguishing feature." She pointed to the photograph and Simon's eyebrows all but disappeared into his hairline.

"You're not serious," he said. "How did this get missed?"

"Because we were distracted by the costume," Athena suggested.

"Federal Government plates," Simon said, shaking his head. "This is an appalling oversight, Athena."

"It's a pity we can't make out the agency," Athena said. "That would narrow it down a lot."

"The detail on this camera isn't good enough," Simon lamented.

"Come on, Simon," Athena said bracingly. "How many Mercedes C-classes with Federal plates can there be?"


Apollo could hear voices from elsewhere in the house. Athena by the sounds of it, and a baritone rumble that was probably Simon. Klavier was curled up into a ball, his head pressed against Apollo's chest. He reached down and carded his fingers through the strands of blond hair. Klavier blinked his eyes a few times and looked up.

"Hey," Apollo said softly. "How are you doing?"

Klavier nodded slowly. "Better," he said. "The shock was…" he broke off and gave a humorless laugh. "A shock."

"Yeah," Apollo agreed. "Do you want to talk?"

"What is there to say?" Klavier said. "I've known this day was coming for a long time. And part of me is relieved he's gone and then another part of me hates myself for feeling that way."

"I know what you mean," Apollo said reflectively. "I keep telling myself it's natural to feel this way. He was a big part of my life, gave me my first break. And working for him wasn't a bad experience, it's why finding out what he'd been doing was so unexpected. He wasn't some cackling villain like on TV, he was a real, complicated person and I guess one hell of a compartmentalizer."

"In that we are very alike, mein bruder and I," Klavier said.

"I'm not saying it's a bad thing, really," Apollo clarified. "Just that it made it harder to see who he really was."

"I need to find out how this happened," Klavier said.

"Are you sure you want to know?" Apollo asked.

Klavier's face took on a pinched expression. "Perhaps not. But I have to know, Apollo."

"All right," Apollo said. "Do you feel up to some company? I think Athena and Simon are here."

"Yes," Klavier said. "I cannot hide in here like ein feigling."

"English, Klavier."

"A coward."


The studio door opened and revealed a pale-faced Trucy emerging from inside.

"Hey, Trucy," Athena said as brightly as she could. "What would like to eat tonight?"

"I don't care," Trucy said listlessly.

"Trucy, your father will pull through," Simon said suddenly. "I swear it upon my sword. And if he does not, his enemies will feel it's edge."

"Simon!" Athena shrieked. But Trucy smiled and gave Simon a perfectly executed bow. He grinned back at her. "This is not appropriate," Athena complained.

"The question still stands," Simon said. "I'm not much of a cook."

"I'm OK," Athena confessed, "but I hate it."

"I'll cook," a new voice said. Klavier walked into the room, Apollo on his heels.

"Uh, that's nice of you but you don't have to do that," Athena stammered.

"It's no trouble, fraulein," Klavier said. "I like to cook. Come Apollo, you can be my sous-chef."

"What does that involve?" Apollo said suspiciously.

"It means you're second in command," Athena told him.

"It means he bosses you around the kitchen," Simon corrected.

"Nein," Klavier denied. "It means I get to give him all the jobs that require bending over!" Apollo gaped at him, his face flaming. Klavier gave him an unrepentant grin and sauntered off towards the kitchen. Apparently the facade was back in place once more. Apollo took one look at Athena's face and raced after him.

"Did you have to do that?" he demanded when they reached the refrigerator.

"Do what?" Klavier said innocently.

"You might as well have put a big neon sign over our heads!" Apollo snapped.

"You think they didn't know, schatzi?" Klavier said mildly.

"They might have suspected," Apollo allowed. "But that's not the point."

Klavier looked unhappy. "Are you… ashamed to be with me, Apollo?"

"What? No!"

"Then why should your friends not know?" he pressed.

"Because we haven't even been on a proper date yet," Apollo said. He wasn't sure why that made a difference. "I don't want them to think…"

"What?" Klavier said sharply. "That you're an easy lay for someone like me?"

"No," Apollo mumbled. "That's not what I meant."

"Ja, what you meant is, you planned to keep it a secret. Because you didn't want your friends to judge you. Because I am louche and sleeping with me stains your reputation?"

"No!" Apollo insisted. "I just wasn't ready for anyone to know yet. And because…" he swallowed. "Because I care about you and there's a madman running around targeting Mr Wright and Mr Edgeworth and who knows who else will catch his eye?"

"You're worried about me?" Klavier said wonderingly. "Forehead, that's very sweet but you can't let this asshole dictate how you live your life."

"All right," Apollo grumbled. "I'm sorry. Are we friends?"

Klavier pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. "Of course. Now, let's see what we have in the fridge."