Harry made sure to slip on a pair of rubber latex gloves before entering the bathroom, in the search for pills, or any other prescription medications. He didn't exactly have the patience to go through such things, especially when there was a far more exciting and promising lead in the mysterious man that the butler had mentioned.
Still, he knew that he'd need to be thorough if he was to prevent the case from being ruled out as a suicide. Even with two lead detectives strongly doubting that, he knew just how little it could take for a case to be closed based off of the easiest solutions and conclusions. It was an oversight, one which had left many injustices in it's wake, but not one which Harry could do much about. He could only work so as not to repeat his old mistakes, mistakes he had made as a rookie, while he was distracted and still uncomfortable living in Ryme City without his son by his side.
The first place he checked was the most obvious, the cabinet. It was ten times larger than his own and so it naturally contained more than the average cabinet. Trying not to make too much of a mess, he moved combs and brushes out of the way, shifted tweezers and nail clippers aside and tore toilet paper out. He eventually came out with another bottle of temepezam and one of finasteride, neither of which were useful to him in anyway.
With nothing left to look for, he promptly left the bathroom, only carrying the two pill bottles for the sake of collecting evidence. It always seemed as though physical evidence was the best way to debunk any false conclusions. He promptly handed them over to one of the responding officers with a quick order.
Before getting to the next bout of questions, he decided to have a look outside and at the broken wall beyond the garden.
As he walked through the garden, he heard the small pitter-patter of paw steps and turned around to see the Chespin bounding up to him.
"Chespin!" it shouted excitedly at him.
He bent down, a small smile on his face, "There you are buddy, what's got you so excited?"
"Chespin!"
Only when it shouted again did Harry realize that it was not out of excitement, but rather out of urgency.
"What's wrong?" he frowned thoughtfully.
"Chespin!" it shouted for a third time, tugging on the sleeve of Harry's coat, as if urging him to follow.
"Alright, I'm coming, I'm coming."
Harry stood and followed the Chespin through different parts of the garden, even as that meant he had to get his shoes covered in mud and coat stained in green.
It seemed never ending, this past that the Pokémon was following, but eventually it came to a stop behind one of three greenhouses and sat before something.
Harry arrived shortly afterwards, kicking mud from his shoes and trying to dust off grass stains from his coat.
"So what is it you wanted to show me again? Cause after all of this, it better be go..." he trailed off as his eyes landed on the small vial that the Pokémon sat in front of. "What's this?" he quickly put a single glove on and used said gloved hand to pick it up, taking note immediately of the fact that it was unmarked and so likely illegal to some extent.
"Chespin?"
He smiled, this time a wide smile at the Chespin, "Yeah, this is useful, very useful. Looks like you got a pretty good hang of all this detective stuff," he ruffled the soft quills on top of it's head, before reaching for his walkie-talkie, "Conan, you there?"
After a short moment, he answered, "I was just about to call you Harry. Listen major break here, forensics called back, said the cigar, the one that was in Mr. Rivera's mouth, it reeked of Beedrill poison."
"Beedrill poison?"
"Yup, just the right amount to kill a grown man."
Harry looked again at the vial in his hand, gears turning in his head as the pieces began to fall together, "I'll meet you back there in a minute. Jamie all ready for a few questions?"
"Yeah, she's locked and loaded."
"Let's get this out of the way right now," Jamie, pointing an index finger, took them both by surprise. "I am choosing to talk to the both of you, without a lawyer, because I have done nothing wrong and have nothing to hide."
Harry cleared his throat, "Well, that's...nice of you. But, uhm, Jamie this isn't an interrogation, we just wanted to ask you a few questions. If it makes you more comfortable, we could-"
"Spare the act, I know what an interrogation looks like and this is one right here," she glared at them both. "Let me guess, the old man said I did it, said I was the one who killed him, said I did it, because he wanted to cut me out of his will."
Conan sighed, "So you admit that you knew about that? That you were listening in on that conversation?"
"Oh, I was listening in alright, but first off, why don't you tell me exactly what it is that he told you?"
"Jamie, I don't think that's the most appropriate-"
"I could leave."
Harry and Conan glanced at each other briefly.
"To sum it up, he told us that he'd been having a conversation with Mr. Rivera, one you were listening into. During that conversation he'd been told that you and all the rest of your family was getting cut out of the will and that he would be the heir of, well, of all of this," he waved a hand around. "Anyways next thing you storm in and threaten your Grandpa and the very next day you're sitting in a chair, being questioned by two detectives. Should we take that as a coincidence? Or..."
Jamie stared at them, eyes wide, like a deer caught in headlights. She remained that way for a while, uncomfortable silence in the atmosphere, before snorting back laughter right where she sat and then giggling gently, almost under her breath. Soon giggles turned to chuckles and chuckles turned to a cacophony of laughter which shook her stomach harshly.
Harry and Conan watched her all the while, thinking of interrupting the laughter, before realizing that she wasn't laughing, but rather crying. Tears dropping onto the carpet, as sobs got caught in the back of her throat, causing her to also cough uncontrollably.
"W-wow," she was barely able to stutter the word out, "I knew he hated us, but this- this is something else, really it is."
"We could take a break if you need one," Conan suggested, still bewildered.
She didn't respond, instead pulling out her phone and fiddling with it for a while. She placed it on the table and both men leaned in to listen.
"...how can you really be so sure of this Edward?"
"I'm confiding in you, because I am so sure of this Sir. They will never learn independence if you keep giving and not taking. Their hands are in your pockets each and every day," there was a frustrating edge to his voice. "You should be sick of it- all the lies they've told you, all the times they've deceived you. And it's all because of your fortune. When you're gone, they won't deserve a cent of your money."
A groan could be heard, "Who would I even leave my money to? Who would I entrust with the property?"
"Donate to a good cause as your father would have and leave the other half in my hands."
"You? Edward I-I could never do that."
"I've been good to you for so many years Sir. I've been everything you've needed me to be, a servant, a friend, a part of the family. I've trusted and loved you as much as your father did,"* a chair scraped across the ground. *"Give the inheritance to me, I will protect it and keep the family name alive. Trust me as your father would have trusted me and his father before him. Don't let your family ruin your decision, please remember all the loyalty that I've held for so many years."
"Edward, I'm sorry, but I can't, it wouldn't be right."
There was a delicate silence for several moments.
"Very well, you shall receive my letter of resignation tomorrow."
"Edward, w-wait-"
The recording ended with a few heavy footsteps.
"Well, well, well, how the turn tables," Harry commented from his seat.
"I ran away before he opened the door and saw me," she sniffed, wiping moisture from her face. "I mean I knew he hated me, he hates all of us really, but to just lie about me like that..."
"We might need your phone, so we have a copy of that audio recording."
"It's all yours'. What's going to happen now?"
"Well, this is pretty incriminating stuff, so we'll probably take Mr. DuBois back to the station with us and depending on what else we find, we might just be able to get a warrant for his arrest."
"He was always there for me, when my dad left, I could always count on Grandpa."
"He loved you, huh?"
"Yeah, whenever I'd get sad, he would just say, 'your father always was a jackass!'"
She laughed again, this time legitimately and joyfully.