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Turnabout Blue Earth

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November 12, 2018: the day the Great Banks Dam burst. Explosive charges went off all along it, bringing a cascade of water down on an unsuspecting town.

113 people died, and two men were arrested. One was let go, and one was imprisoned.

The latter didn't last a year.


Apollo Justice knew that his boss was married.

He had never probed very far into it. It wasn't his place. Occasionally Trucy would mention her adoptive mother or her brother and sister, or Mr. Wright would refer to his wife or his other kids, but they rarely came up. Apollo knew that they lived in the suburbs and that the main breadwinner was Mr. Wright's wife, and that she was the one with the car (Apollo would make fun of Mr. Wright for that if it weren't for the fact that Apollo himself rarely drove. But at least he had a driver's license!) but Apollo didn't like to pry.

That also meant that he'd never met her or his biological children either. When Trucy and Mr. Wright mentioned them, it was clear that they were Trucy's younger siblings and that Mr. Wright loved his wife and children all very much. But they rarely came up since, after all, they weren't involved in any of the investigations Apollo was part of. Not in Vera's trial, or Kitaki's trial, or the Tobaye farce.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. Apollo knew one thing about Mr. Wright's wife, that she had been involved in the creation of the jurist system that was currently being tested in Texas after the Californian legislature had come down on it. But that wasn't a surprise (not the Texas and California thing, that had caught the legal world by surprise since it was heralded as the beginning of the end of the Dark Age of the Law): Mr. Wright had contracted all sorts of friends and associates as part of the creation, Mr. Wright had told him, from his old friends and veteran prosecutors Miles Edgeworth and Franziska von Karma, or his old assistant of the Fey clan who practiced some ridiculous new age "spirit channeling" theatrics, or even an imprisoned prosecutor who had murdered said assistant's mother. He'd heard an executed woman gave testimony at the trial where Armando had been caught; maybe Trucy knew how to do that trick?

In any case, it had been only a week since the New Year, 2027, and Mr. Wright was currently overseas to find a new employee. He did that a lot, lately, actually; Apollo wondered how, exactly, he was going to be able to pass the bar exam when he was traipsing around Europe. At least he would be returning tomorrow; until then, for the last week or so, Apollo and Trucy had been in charge of the agency.

Watching an agency with no cases was not much fun. It was almost closing time and Trucy was practicing her magic tricks while Apollo waited at Mr. Wright's desk, trying and failing to read some of his thick legal books, like what had happened every day for the past week. "Hey, Polly!" Trucy called from the other room, "have you seen my-"

"Yes."

"Well how about-"

"Probably."

"Then what about-"

"Yep."

"That was an all-new trick, Polly!" Trucy said. She stomped her foot and rushed into the office, frowning. "C'mon, you don't need to read those! Daddy never reads them!"

"Has anyone ever read them?" Apollo asked, looking dubiously at the thick legalese. He certainly wasn't making heads or tails of it.

"I think Mommy did once? Well, she read one book," Trucy said, "and Daddy tried to read two. I mean, he didn't actually finish them and I accidentally used them in a magic trick of mine…"

Apollo decided not to ask how a magician accidentally used heavy tomes in a trick. "Right, Trucy," Apollo said, "well, I'm sorry for not showing much interest, but considering Mr. Wright's not due until tomorrow and he's supposed to be finding a new lawyer, I don't want to look inferior. I've heard the European systems are highly progressive." And he returned to reading the book.

"Uncle Edgeworth just says that the European nations' bar exams are easier," Trucy replied. "Besides! I know that Daddy won't fire you unless he finds someone really, really good!"

"Thanks, Trucy," Apollo said dryly, "but I think you can go cheer me up elsewhere-"

And then the phone rang. Trucy quickly pulled a handset out of her magic panties (those things still made Apollo uncomfortable) and then, after a series of "mm-hmms, mm-hmms," and an "okay, Daddy!", she handed the phone to Apollo.

"Mr. Wright?" Apollo said, standing up, "did something happen?"

"I found someone but she's going to need some time to prepare to fly out to America," Mr. Wright said, "and I'm going to be flying in early, too. I'll arrive at three in the morning, not that you care, I guess. Meet up with me at the agency an hour early, because we have an investigation to do."

"Something happened, boss?" Apollo said, his heart racing. Did somebody die?

"We'll talk about it tomorrow," Mr. Wright said. The phone call terminated. Did Mr. Wright have to be mysterious?

There was a car horn honk outside the office. "Sorry, Polly, I've got to go home!" Trucy said. She waved goodbye and ran out, calling, "lock up, please!" afterwards.

A new case… and soon a new coworker! And Mr. Wright still hadn't taken his bar exam. What would he look like, the disbarred lawyer with two underlings better able to defend than him? Apollo wondered what Clay would say…

"Sounds like a fun time, dude," Clay said as Apollo walked home to his apartment, chatting on the phone with his best friend. "A lady attorney, huh? I know you don't have a girlfriend…"

"That's not my concern right now, Clay," Apollo said. "Who cares about the new attorney, there's a case too!" Besides, Apollo thought, it's not like you have a girlfriend, Clay!

"Hmm… well, looking through the news sites," Clay said, "it looks like… wow. Apparently, a vice president of a genetics company in downtown LA was murdered, Apollo. Mr. Gus M. Org. Maybe that's it?"

"Maybe," Apollo said. He entered his apartment complex and began walking up the stairs that lead to his floor. "Any further details?"

"Hmm… well, according to the news article the usual prosecutor won't be the same," Clay said, "Klavier Gavin's in Texas right now on behalf of Mr. Wright, so they're bringing in a higher-level prosecutor to do bar trials until the newest guy's ready…"

"Great," Apollo said. "How much would a high court prosecutor even know, though?"

"I'm not the lawyer, dude, but c'mon. You'll be fine," Clay replied. "Sorry, gotta go!" And he hung up.

Apollo sighed and entered his apartment. The court system right now had two levels: the bar trials and the high court trials. The former were handled by lawyers such as Apollo or Klavier and allowed a judge to give a fair and speedy trial to the accused and allowed the prosecution to weed out any weak arguments or poor arrests, or at least, that was the intent. Then the high courts would give the accused a lengthier, more professional trial with less theatrics. The bar trials were more famous and more watched, but the juries and the judges involved in the high court trials were the ones who decided the fate of the accused. Assuming, of course, that the high court's prosecutors were now able to prove their case without a shadow of a doubt. Or at least, that was the intention.

Apollo flopped down on his bed and for a moment considered maybe calling Trucy or Ema to see if they could tell him something else. The news story Clay found seemed likely. At least he finally had work. Too bad a man had to die to give him it… What had almost happened to Vera shook him.

But he supposed that was the way with bar defense attorneys or bar prosecutors. The death was done: now what was important was finding the truth and defending the innocent.


 

January 11, 8:00 AM, Wright Anything Agency

Apollo met up with Mr. Wright an hour early, like he promised. Mr. Wright was back into a suit for some reason, although he had a locket tucked into his pocket. Where did his hobo garb go? "Today, I'll be your assistant," Mr. Wright said cheerfully, "Trucy has to be at school, you know…"

"Yeah, yeah, I understand, Mr. Wright," Apollo said. "Where to?"

"Mexico Biogenetic Agriculture," Mr. Wright said, "it's their Los Angeles branch, downtown. It's only about a twenty-minute walk."

"Why don't you just get your own car?" Apollo said. "I mean, you're married to someone with a lot of money, right?"

"I can bike to the office and I can bike to the bar I used to play at," Mr. Wright replied. "C'mon, Apollo, you should be more environmentally-friendly. Or, at least, that's what I tell myself on hot and cold days…"

The twenty-story MBA building was already swarming with police when they arrived, the most prominent of which was Detective Ema Skye. "I assume you've been hired by the defendant?" Ema said when Apollo and Mr. Wright moved to talk to her.

"Miss Caroline?" Mr. Wright said, "yeah, she hired us."

"The evidence's solid, Mr. Wright," Ema said. And then she glanced to the side and huffed. "I can't believe it…"

"Something wrong, Ema?" Apollo said.

"I'm getting transferred," Ema said. "Some guy named Fulbright's being sent to replace me. They say it'll only be for a year and I'll be working in northern California, but still! Transferred! Me!" She pulled out a bag of Snackoos and began furiously munching on them.

"Well, that's unfortunate," Apollo said, seeking to placate her. Personally, he didn't know how unfortunate that was; while Ema wasn't exactly a hard nut to crack in court, hopefully this Fulbright guy would be easier.

"I'll say," Ema said, still not looking either of them in the eye. "Go ahead guys. The prosecution's already here, with some other not-me detective, in the vic's office. If Caroline's hired you then I suppose there's no harm in letting you up." As they left, she grumbled, "and I arrested her too! Stupid detective seniority rules, putting me on the ground because I don't need to be at the crime scene anymore..."

The police officers directed them to the eighteenth floor, where Mr. Org's office and the meeting room he was killed in were located. Mr. Wright lead Apollo to Mr. Org's office first. "Usually there's something that the police overlook," Mr. Wright said, "and as defense attorneys, it's important to find that and use it to prove our case."

"I know, Mr. Wright," Apollo said. "I'm not an amateur anymore. Just because your new hire…"

"New hire?" The two had entered Mr. Org's office to find that the police were apparently thinking along their lines. A man in a scruffy trenchcoat was currently looking through a set of drawers on the desk; standing next to him was a black-haired woman with twin braids in her hair. She had on deep purple pants with a white blouse whose sleeves seemed to extend down to cover the back of her hands. Over her blouse she had a purple blazer that matched her pants. Her clothes looked like a very nice, professional cut, to be honest – nicer than Mr. Wright’s or Apollo’s suits. Around the woman’s neck was a necklace with a magatama on it. She was staring at Mr. Wright. "What's this about a new hire?" she said again.

"Oh, just someone I met in Europe," Mr. Wright said, "Athena Cykes. Brilliant, and studied to attain a very important goal. How could I deny that?"

"Same old Mr. Wright, pal," the scruffy man said. He stood up. "Hey, that's your new lawyer, isn't it!?" Apollo resisted the urge to shove his badge in the man's face in response.

"Apollo Justice," the woman said. "So, tell me, who's going to be handling the case?"

Seriously? "Uh, probably the person with the badge," Apollo said, pointing to his badge pinned to his suit.

She smiled a little at that. "Well, I know I'm no expert, but I can guarantee this, Mr. Wright," she said haughtily, smugly even, "that by the end of this trial, you will be on your knees begging me for a plea bargain. I know all your little tricks, I've studied Justice's extensively, and I won't be fooled."

Oh, great, another hotshot prosecutor. "You know, ma'am," Apollo said aggressively and increasingly quickly, "just because you think that Mr. Wright could only win through forged evidence and bluffing doesn't change the fact that if our defendant is not guilty then there's no way we'll let you send someone to prison for the sake of a perfect record or something! Don't act like some sort of rookie can beat one of the greatest defense attorneys in the world, just because Kristoph Gavin planted some evidence! Take down that pride a notch and show some respect!"

The woman blinked and stared at him for a minute… and then she and Mr. Wright burst out into laughter. "Why are they laughing, pal?" the detective said. Apollo shrugged, still feeling tense and angry. And what was Mr. Wright doing?

Then the woman stepped forward to get right in Mr. Wright's face- Apollo bet that Trucy wouldn't like that- and then she fiddled with his chain. "Next time," she said, "please make sure your chain is straight, Phoenix. You know you need to look your best. You always did. Also, please come home on time tonight, or at least don't delay too long. I know you desperately want to investigate and prove if the defendant's guilty or not, but the kids haven't seen you since you left for Europe over a week ago. And if we're going to make dinner I expect you to be there to eat it."

Apollo felt like his jaw would drop. Did he just… insult… Mr. Wright's WIFE!? And on closer inspection, Apollo saw that she also had a wedding band and what was probably an engagement ring… "I-I'm so sorry, ma'am!" Apollo said, feeling the need to bow and succeeding only in stumbling forward past Mrs. Wright and nearly knocking the detective over.

"Watch it, pal!" the detective yelled.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Justice," Mrs. Wright said sweetly, "I understand that you're highly loyal to my husband, but I do have a job to do until Mr. Blackquill is fit for duty, and the other prosecutors are otherwise engaged. Mr. Edgeworth asked me to handle this case as a personal favor to him." She extended her hand and helped Apollo to his feet, and then she said, "my name is Iris Wright. I am a criminal prosecutor and, for this case, I am a bar prosecutor too."

"Bar prosecutor… right," Apollo said, still feeling woozy from insulting his boss's wife to her face right in front of him. "I, uh, thought-"

"A bit of trash talk between attorneys is normal before a case," Mr. Wright said, "but I don't think Iris would feel comfortable with attacking you directly, especially considering the trials you had to go through…"

"Thank you for helping Trucy, by the way," Mrs. Wright added.

"And I'm Detective Dick Gumshoe," Gumshoe said, "pleased to meet ya! So, uh, Mrs. Wright, are we going to head out now?"

Mrs. Wright nodded. "Until later, Phoenix," she said, and she left, followed by Gumshoe, but not before kissing Mr. Wright on the cheek.

"I-I'm so sorry, boss," Apollo said, "it's just, you know-"

"You don't need to apologize to me," Mr. Wright said, "to her, maybe, but to me…" Mr. Wright trailed off and Apollo fervently hoped he wasn't thinking of punishing him. "Let's investigate, shall we?"

Surprisingly for a scene that seemed to be unrelated to the crime scene, nothing seemed out-of-place. "Looks like she did a good job… if there was anything at all," Apollo said as Mr. Wright inspected a desk and Apollo inspected a filing cabinet.

"The upper courts tend to put more emphasis on thoroughness than the lower courts," Mr. Wright said, apparently ignoring Apollo's barb, "clearly, that approach carried over to the actual police work. Rissy sure was thorough…"

"…Rissy?" Apollo said, "I can feel my teeth rotting, Mr. Wright…"

Mr. Wright chuckled once, reminding Apollo more of his hobo days than his proper lawyerly self. "Just a little inside joke," he said, glancing at the floor, "and, uh, don't call her that in court. Or ever, really."

"…Right," Apollo said, "in that case, sir, please don't bother telling me."

Mr. Wright kept smiling, so Apollo sighed and resumed his search by carefully looking at the floor. What would they even find in here even if Gumshoe hadn't found anything, anyways? They didn't even know what the victim looked like, or why he'd been killed, or where the crime scene had been, or-

"Here it is," Mr. Wright said, pulling a drawer open. "Looks like Detective Gumshoe pulled some papers out, or, for some reason, the top pages of a report have vanished."

"What's the report on?" Apollo asked as Mr. Wright pulled the report out, his hands now gloved, and began to read it.

"These are just the citations," Mr. Wright said after a moment, "we should go ask Gumshoe if he took this. If not, we'll need the full text of this report. It might let us in on the true murderer's intentions."

They found Gumshoe and Mrs. Wright at the scene of crime. "Since the initial investigation's over," Mrs. Wright was saying as Apollo and Mr. Wright entered the room, "I'll leave you to answer any questions the defense they might have." She walked past Mr. Wright and Apollo without a word.

The scene of the crime was a meeting room, which looked like any other meeting room. It was completely normal-looking, no longer even had police bustling, and the only signs that it had been the scene of a crime was a police-tape outline of the victim. As for the crime itself, it was believed, according to Gumshoe, that the victim had ingested poisoned coffee during a meeting with his secretary, Miss Bertha Beltran Caroline. The two had been having disagreements, apparently. "Even worse for you guys," Gumshoe said, actually looking rather happy, "is that we have a key witness who saw Caroline adding the poison to the coffee. He said he thought it was sugar, but…"

"So he's probably the murderer, is what you're saying," Apollo said.

Gumshoe frowned. "I don't think so, pal…" Gumshoe said.

"Don't tell me it's…" Mr. Wright said, suddenly looking very exasperated.

"Mr. Butz? No, it's an intern. He's a new hire, pal!" Gumshoe said triumphantly.

"I guess he's glad that we can't accuse him of murder," Mr. Wright said, still looking exasperated, "it's not like I'm even the lawyer here!"

Thanks, Mr. Wright, Apollo thought, the murder would be too simple in that case, and we can't have that

The investigation of the crime scene began. However, there was also practically no evidence that the police hadn't already found or taken away. Gumshoe did reveal upon further questioning that he didn't have the missing report.

"We'll need to get our hands on that," Apollo declared.

"I'll go ask Ema," Gumshoe said, and he ran off. Apollo furrowed his brow as Gumshoe left. She was guarding the building, what was he doing going to ask her?

"Gumshoe answers to her," Mr. Wright said, answering Apollo's question as if he'd read Apollo's mind. "It's kind of funny considering that he's something like ten years older than her… Then again, he's also almost ten years older than his wife."

"I… see," Apollo said. He wasn't aware that he had signed up for the "let's talk about people's family lives" discussions today. "Well, anything else, Mr. Wright?"

"Nothing seems to be out of place here," Mr. Wright said, "looks like my complaining about the police's shoddy work rubbed off."

"Yeah, don't take all the credit, Mr. Wright," Apollo said. He sighed. "Maybe that Fulbright guy will make things better…"

Mr. Wright shrugged. "Well, I'll see if I can get something from Iris," he said, "you go visit Miss Caroline at the detention center."

And so Apollo set out to the detention center alone. Miss Caroline was an older woman, gray-haired, with wire-frame glasses, and stared at Apollo with such transfixion that he felt the urge to look away. Her face was lined, her suit a fine, crisp blue, and her accent was British. "Mr. Wright, is it?" she said, sounding like she was some sort of television announcer and not a real person, "or is it his associate, Apollo Justice?" She pulled out a pen and notebook from nowhere and started flipping through it. "It seems that I have this interview scheduled, yes…" she said.

Apollo thought that would get very, very annoying. "Miss Caroline," Apollo said, "first, you were not the murderer, were you?"

Caroline frowned and flipped through her book before stowing it away. "In a sense," she said, "you could say that I am the murderer. I was the one who brought Mr. Org his coffee. I should've taste-tested that first. However..."

"It wasn't written in your schedule?" Apollo asked.

"Actually, it's against company policy," Caroline responded smartly. She pulled her glasses off, polished them, and then returned her powerful gaze to Apollo. "You should never violate company policy, Mr. Justice."

"I'll… keep that in mind, Miss Caroline," Apollo said.

Caroline nodded. "It is good that the young learn something," she commented, and then she checked her notebook again. "Do you have any other questions, Mr. Justice?"

"Of course," Apollo said. "Miss, would you happen to know about a missing report in Mr. Org's office?"

"A missing report?" Caroline said, raising her eyebrows. "Mr. Justice, missing reports are against company policy!"

"And murder isn't?" Apollo said, and he felt just a little exasperated. Just a little.

Caroline frowned and checked through her notebook yet again. "Actually, it seems that it's not," she said, "however, missing reports are."

"Yeah, well, something tells me our criminal doesn't care about that," Apollo said. "Miss Caroline, do you know what Mr. Org even handled, what kind of reports he had?"

"It's a report on ties to some Mexican agricultural firms," Ema said suddenly, "it's odd that it's missing, but Mrs. Wright doesn't seem that worried." Apollo turned around in his chair to see Ema standing behind him. "I've been sent to help you," she added, and she took out a snack bag. "Better you and Mrs. Wright than the glimmerous fop…"

Glamorous fop… Apollo thought, as always slightly annoyed by Ema's made-up word, and then he turned back to face Caroline. "Miss Caroline," he said, "do you know any reason someone might steal the actual report part of that report?"

"…Mr. Org was vice president of agricultural research," Caroline said. "I assume you're speaking of the 12-2 Report, as that was the last one concerned with out Mexican business partners."

"And who would these partners be?" Ema said, pushing Apollo to the side to steal part of his chair. "Well, Miss Caroline?"

"You are not my lawyer," Caroline said, "why should I share anything with you?"

"Because we'll find out everything from the main offices anyway," Ema declared, "now, Miss Caroline, could you please…"

Caroline sighed and checked her notebook. "Well, it doesn't seem to be against company policy… our partners related to the 12-2 Report are several large farms devoted to the production of genetically-engineered maize in the heartland of Mexico. The largest of which, and the one we were mainly concerned with, is Mexico Maize Agricultural, a Mexican-American firm."

She pulled her glasses off and polished them. "And what was in the 12-2 Report?" Apollo said.

"The report was nothing but a monthly report on the state of business in Mexico," Caroline said, "the only thing that made it unique was a report on a certain incident in Mexico related to MMA. Specifically, a terroristic attack."

"Terroristic attack?" Apollo said. Was corn that important to al-Qaeda or something?

"Oh, I think I've heard of that," Ema said, "the burning down of a whole field by a group of environmentalist extremists?"

"Precisely," Caroline said, "it was all over the scientific and industry newsletters last month. The crops we were testing and the crops that MMA were raising resulted in great damages from both of us. The six attackers were arrested and legally required to pay the damages sustained- approximately $6 million's worth."

"$6-6 million!?" Apollo said (that was like 600,000 containers of hair gel!), "uh… couldn't you just throw them in prison or something?"

"Science is expensive, Apollo," Ema said, "I don't blame them for wanting to be paid back!"

"Yeah, but… your average Joe can't afford that…" Apollo said.

"If they were your average Joes, it'd be a different story," Ema said, "the attackers-"

"-were a group of rich college students from a certain northeastern American school who took out their anti-scientific biases whilst on holiday to Mexico," Caroline said. "It was most appalling!"

"Yeah!" Ema said. "I heard that they were caught before they could try and firebomb the farm's research lab!"

F-FIREBOMB!? When Apollo was in college, he never did anything that extravagant! "Uh… right, so, are any of those students-" Apollo said.

"Well, I suppose we don't know yet," Ema said. "But this is an old report. It can't be that important."

"I dunno about that…" Apollo said, but he did not elaborate. If Caroline wasn't the murderer, then…

"Well, if there's anything else," Caroline said, "it seems it is almost time for me to return to my cell…"

"It's not even noon yet!" Apollo said.

Caroline looked sharply at him. "Time bends to my schedule, boy!" she barked.

"Well, if you don't mind, Apollo, let me ask a question," Ema said, "Miss Caroline, did you see anyone else on the day of the murder?"

"I saw Mr. Org, of course," Caroline said. "There was also a young man I did not recognize, and one of my coworkers that Mr. Org met with."

"So, first, coworker?" Apollo said.

Caroline nodded. "A new hire, one whom I disagreed with quite often," Caroline said, her voice adopting a bitter edge. "Our workstyles contrasted greatly, you see. That woman… Mr. Org preferred her. I told him he was biased frequently against me, a senior employee, but he paid no heed…"

"So that was the source of your troubles with Mr. Org?" Apollo said. Caroline nodded. "And your coworker's name?"

"Morgan Fey," she said, her face contorted with fury, "a former convict released some six years ago, as I understand it. She works in the floor below me, but she worked for Mr. Org as well. I'm told that she was one of the main compilers of the 12-2 Report… you may want to speak with her on that front."

"And why did you hate her so much besides a difference of work practices?" Ema said.

"…my brother was also a convict," Caroline said. "He was accused as an accomplice to a murderer who deserved to be put behind bars. But my brother was imprisoned, while the killer was not, and he died there. And now, to have a woman who willingly and knowingly helped to kill a man be rising so far past me despite working for Mr. Org for so little time! It enraged me," she whispered, hoarsely. "That woman… believe me, Mr. Justice. If there's anyone I want to send to Hell, it's her, not Org."

"And the other employee?" Apollo said.

"Some intern. How am I supposed to remember their name? That's not a company policy," Caroline replied.

"I… see," Apollo said, "in any case, Miss Caroline, please don't commit any murders once you're free. Or I'm afraid we'll be unable to represent you…"

"Or you could, and finally lose," Ema said brightly. "Well, let's go grill that Fey woman."

"That name sounds familiar, actually," Apollo commented, and after a guard lead Caroline back to her cell, Apollo and Ema set out for MBA. On the way there in Ema's car, while Apollo racked his brain to remember where he'd heard of "Fey", Ema talked animatedly of the glorious return of Prosecutor Edgeworth.

"I mean really, it's about time there's someone besides a wannabe-rockstar there. Don't you think?" Ema said, her eyes firmly on the road.

Apollo resisted the urge to point out that Klavier was a rockstar and said, "Ema, do you know anything about the prosecutor for this case? Besides that she's Mr. Wright's wife and usually works in the upper court?"

"I've heard she has a reputation for thoroughness and usually relies on scientific evidence," Ema said, "which makes her good in my books. Also, apparently, she can be kind of scary in court, but I wouldn't know." They pulled up to MBA, which still seemed to have all sorts of police on-site and got out of her car. "You know what the funny thing is about this place? They didn't even cancel work today. All day, I've been letting people in…"

"So you know who Morgan Fey is?" Apollo said. Ema nodded. "Back to Mrs. Wright…"

"The only other thing I know is that she was an accomplice to murder," Ema said, "but that was about seven years ago."

They entered the building and began taking the ride up to the seventeenth floor. "So, how did a disbarred attorney and an accomplice end up married?" Apollo said.

Ema shrugged and took her snacks back out. "Who cares, it's none of our business," she said, "Snackoo?"

"I'll pass."

"Suit yourself."