"This is Detective Dyle, alongside Detective Goodman, recording this interview with the knowledge and full consent of Mr. DuBois."

The butler shifted uncomfortably in his chair, eyes darting between Harry and Conan.

"So Mr. DuBois, how long have you been working for the Rivera family? And how much do you know about them exactly?"

"My time in this family has lasted many generations. I was first employed under Sir Ian McGregor before the first War, when the entire family resided in Wyndon. After much of the city was destroyed, they and I commuted alongside one another to the economic liberty that New Tork City offered at the time. Following a rather fruitless case of fraud brought forward unfairly, we moved once again, this time to Caledon City where after a failed marriage and a change in ideology, the family name was changed to 'Rivera'. And as the story goes, the Rivera family soon became associated with Howard Clifford through their similar business interests and when the offer to come to Ryme City was made, they simply couldn't resist," he finished his lengthy monologue and once again looked away, seeming to want to be anywhere but there.

Harry looked at him, noting his age and the stress he seemed to be under, "And you've been working for them through all this? You've followed them wherever they've went? I mean I've heard of loyalty and all that, but that seems a little bit extreme."

Mr. DuBois only shrugged, "They depend on me. As a server, as a friend, as a member of the family. Frankly, and forgive me if this sounds narcissistic, they wouldn't be able to function without me. After all without me, who would serve the coffee and breakfast every morning? Who would ensure that this aged home does not fall apart? Who would they turn to, to keep this family from imploding?"

"You're unhappy with the way they treat you," Conan tried.

"I said nothing of the sort Detective," he huffed indignantly, "and I would appreciate if you didn't put words into my mouth."

"But there is some sort of tension in the family?" Harry quirked an eyebrow.

Mr. DuBois settled back into his seat, "Naturally, their father, grandfather and patriarch just passed away under suspicious circumstances and now they've all been gathered together by two callous Detectives to be questioned in something they know absolutely nothing about."

"I'm sorry to hear that you think of us like that, but we are just doing our jobs no?"

"The man was overweight and an insomniac for goodness sake! I watched him eat himself to death! I watched him drinking those pills! I watched him slowly kill himself, I asked him to stop so many times, but it was his children, his grandchildren! It was everyone around him, everyone around him who wanted his money," he had broken into tears by that point. "I tried, I really did. I told him he was being used, told him to cut everyone off, but he never listened."

Conan, completely unsure of himself, looked over at Harry, who similarly shrugged in confusion.

"I made a promise to his father you know? While he was nothing but a boy. I looked at him and I swore that I would protect him, that I would be the voice of reason and now look, he's dead and I've failed."

They both watched as he cried and his shouts turned to murmurs of despair and anger. Anger at himself as it would seem. Only once he had composed himself enough to pull out a handkerchief and wipe his tears away did either of them speak again.

"Well, this has all been very insightful. We'll take a break for now and come get you when you're ready, alright?"

The butler nodded tearfully, before standing up and shakily leaving the room. Some of his weeps could still be heard even as he left.

Harry crossed one leg over the other, brow furrowing in deep thought, as he went into a world of his own.

"So," Conan was the one who brought him back to the present. "How are you feeling about this guy?"

"Really judgemental, emotionally hopeless and way too critical," Harry listed a few of these using his fingers, "but also loyal, caring and definitely not guilty."

"You're sure about that?"

"Positive, he'll be pretty useful though."

Conan pulled out a box of cigarettes, slipping one out and putting it in between his lips.

Harry grimaced, "I thought you said you were giving up all that last summer."

"Plans change," Conan shrugged and pulled out a lighter. "I thought you were going to give up coffee last winter."

"What was I supposed drink? Tea?"

"Definitely wouldn't have hurt," he quickly lit it, smoke erupting from his mouth.

"You think it was his family, or someone else?" Harry asked suddenly.

"That answer lies in Mr. DuBois I suppose. But if you ask me, none of these people are killers, I mean most of them just look like your typical rich people."

"An outside job maybe?"

"Maybe," he went over to the other side of the room. "So where's that Pokémon partner of yours' run off to?"

"It's not mine," Harry said quickly. "I just found it in my apartment is all."

Conan chuckled, "And so you felt the need to bring him onto a crime scene with you. I'm not judging though, they do call you the best and that was while you had that Pikachu by your side. Maybe Pokémon are your lucky charms, or something."

"First of all, that's ridiculous," he looked at his partner incredulously. "And second off, no random Chespin is just going to replace my Pikachu. We've been through too much together."

Conan through his hands into the air dismissively, "I wasn't suggesting, only implying. It seems like it would make a pretty great partner though. Maybe you could give it to your kid when he gets back?"

"Tim? No, he's not really into all that."

"You never know if you never try," he tossed his cigarette butt into a nearby dustbin and cleared his throat. "You ready for round two with Mr. DuBois?"

"He was a strange man, it was easy to tell, even though I was only able to see him from a distance. The way he was dressed, the way he carried himself and maybe I was just seeing things, but Mr. Rivera looked remarkably uncomfortable around him. They met on a few different occasions, the first was in his own office, but after they were interrupted by Maddie, quite the enthusiastic grandchild, they began meeting instead in a secluded part of the garden, then they moved again."

"Moved where exactly?"

"That's just the thing, I've no idea where they began meeting after that. I would search the whole house and they would be nowhere to be found."

"And this guy," Harry questioned, "did he have a name? Contact number? Anyway we could get a hold of him?"

Mr. DuBois thought for a moment, "He was only ever referred to as 'Hotman'."

"Hotman?"

"Yes, as far as I'm concerned they never spoke with each other over the phone and he always made himself much too scarce. I doubt he'll ever return with Mr. Rivera having passed."

"You didn't ever find it strange, or ask questions?"

"I asked about it all the time, it's the one thing that was kept from me, the one thing that I could never know of."

Conan decided to change the subject, "You said something about people using him for his money - his family?"

He nodded in confirmation, "If it wasn't some sort of *'school fee'*, then it was some sort of medical condition. If it wasn't either of those, then it was a direct request for money. I watched him practically give it all away."

"And they were lying about those things?"

"Each and every time. I spoke with him about it often and eventually he finally realized - finally saw that he was being exploited. And he wanted to stop, he really did, apparently they were to all be cut out from his will."

Harry sat up straight, mind suddenly turning, "He was going to cut them out of his will? Did anyone of them catch wind of this?"

"Jamie. His eldest granddaughter

She was the one who asked him for the most, the one he thought was the most spoiled. He loved her though, wanted her to get a taste of the real world, all just so that she would survive..."

"...you're sure of this Sir?"

"If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't be confiding in you Edward. They need to learn independence, the need to learn how to live without their hands in my pockets," Mr. Rivera walked over to his chair, huffing when he sat down with a loud creak. "I'm sick of it I tell you, all the lies, all the deception and it's all because of the fortune I inherited. Well, let them go on like this and they won't get a thing when I'm gone."

"Who would you leave your money to? This property?"

"Fifty percent to charity, the other fifty percent to you."

Edward's face lit up in surprise, "Me? Sir, I could never accept, it's simply not reaso-"

"You're been good to us for all these years Edward. You're more than a servant. You've been a friend, you've been family. I trust you like a father and I love you like a brother," he groaned as he stood up again so soon after sitting down. "I need you to handle this inheritance, I need you to keep the family name alive. If not for me, then do it for my father and his father before him. Don't let any of them convince you otherwise, go where you want to go and do want you want to do, but please never forget any of the loyalty you've held all of these years," he drew him into a short hug and then left a hand of encouragement on the other man's shoulder. "And don't cry when I'm gone."

"S-sir?"

"Nothing Edward, nothing."

"How will you break the news to them?"

"They'll learn of it when the time comes."

"Like right now?"

Both men looked up suddenly, startled to see the young woman looking at them scornfully with a hand on one of her hips.

"Jamie? How long have you-"

"You're just going to cut us out of your will," she spat her words out, "just going to leave us to the wolves."

"That's not why I'm doing this, I love you and your mother and all the others, but I can't let this continue."

"Well, when I'm forced to drop out of school and I'm out on the streets, while you stay up here in your fancy mansion, I hope you at least remember me."

"Jamie-"

"Watch your back Grandpa, snakes always bite back as you've told me time and time again."

She stormed out then, slamming the door behind her and tramping down the stairs.

Mr. Rivera grabbed a cigar, shoving it into his mouth remorsefully, "She'll come around eventually."

"I hope you're right Sir."

"And then the very next day, he turns up dead."

Mr. DuBois shook his head, "It is surely just a coincidence, the girl is spoiled, yes and rather blunt, but she's only nineteen years of age, she never would have turned to murder for money."

"Sometimes you never really know a person," Harry stood up and straightened out his coat. "Thank you for your time Mr. DuBois. We'll be sure to keep everything you said in mind."

Conan stood as well, "Should I go get Jamie for questioning?"

"In a second, I need to get a look at some things first. See if forensics has called back, the sooner we get that info, the better."