Chapter Text
If Apollo had any doubts remaining as to the relation of the letters to his murder, they disappear the second he sees the open drawer.
He knew that the police had been here, but that had been before he and Klavier had checked the place, and he’s fairly certain they wouldn’t have left the drawer hanging open if it had been then.
He walks over to the open drawer slowly, as though afraid of what he’ll find, and pulls it the rest of the way open-delicately avoiding touching it too much so as not to mess up any fingerprints that may have been left. Nothing- nothing in the front of the drawer, and nothing shoved to the back. Everything’s gone.
And for the first time since this whole ordeal started, Apollo feels hopelessness creeping in.
He leans back against the counter, running a hand through his already disheveled hair as he mentally runs through his options.
There aren’t many.
If he lived in a better apartment complex, he might have been able to check security cameras to see who’s come and gone- but he can’t. There aren’t any in this complex.
His neighbors? No, they wouldn’t know- and he can’t talk to them anyway. They wouldn’t see him.
...they wouldn’t see him.
He stands up straighter, an idea forming in his mind. It’s a long shot- if that. But it’s the only thing left worth a shot.
First thing first- he has to find Ema.
*****
“Miss Skye?”
Ema Skye wasn’t paying attention. To anything at all, really. It’s fair to say that she was distracted. Had been, in fact, ever since Apollo’s death.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t seen death before- hell, her own parents had died when she was just a child. No, Ema was well acquainted with the idea of losing people close to her.
Not that she would have ever admitted that Justice was someone close to her just a week ago.
This was different somehow, though. With everyone else, there was always the promise of closure. Her parents’ deaths had been accidental- no mysteries, no one to blame.
But with Apollo- the police still really had no leads. They hadn’t even arrested anyone for the murder, in a twist- usually they would have someone in custody by now- even if that person was blatantly not the actual criminal.
How could anyone that cared for him move on when there hadn’t been any justice?
“Miss Skye?” The young officer spoke up again, a bit louder this time, and finally managed to get her attention.
“What is it?” The normal annoyance that would have been in her voice at the interruption was noticeably absent. Maybe she was hoping for good news- or maybe she just couldn’t muster up the energy.
“There’s a call for you on the line.”
She stands with a sigh- it’s probably just her sister. For some ungodly reason she insists on calling the department when Ema’s at work instead of just calling directly to her cell. Something about it being more ‘professional’.
“Right, I’ll go get it. Be there in a sec.”
The officer gives her a nod and walks off, leaving the door open behind him as he does. Normally that would piss her off- honestly, who doesn’t close the door after them when they’re leaving a room?- but she supposes she’s following after him pretty immediately anyway.
She pauses a moment before she does, though- something must be off, if her sister’s calling her today. She just called her yesterday, in a thinly veiled attempt to make sure she was doing okay.
Well, waiting won’t change things. She maneuvers around her small desk and steps out into the hallway.
****
Apollo waits for Ema to pass by him- she does so without even a sideways glance. He’s disappointed at that. He knew it was unlikely, but he’d somehow hoped that she would have been able to see him.
Well, maybe it’s for the best. The situation would’ve just taken a long time to explain, and it’s best to get this done quickly.
He steps into her office, the door to which she thankfully left open. “Office,” in heavy quotation marks, as the room appears to have been an old, unused supply closet that Ema commandeered. There’s a small desk crammed in, a few things hung up on the wall- nothing much else.
He guesses there’s just not enough room for anything else.
He glances at the door before easing it shut. He doesn’t know how long the phone call will take her. He’d already been waiting in the hallway in front of her door for about an hour. He didn’t want to open the door while she was in there- scientific or not, he’s pretty sure a door opening on its own would freak her out. It was just a matter of waiting until someone else opened the door for him to slip in, or for her to leave.
He slips around the desk with some difficulty, silently praying that she keeps her finger-printing supplies here. He knows vaguely how they work- Ema was eager to explain to anyone who would listen. He could dust for prints, but he’d need her to check the database.
He’d figure that out when he got to it.
There are three drawers on the desk, and only a laptop on top. He pulls open the first drawer- nothing. Well, nothing important. Just some pictures. The one on top of the pile is a picture he remembers being taken- it’s him, Trucy, and Ema, standing on the front steps of the courthouse. Trucy had insisted on taking it after a case Ema had helped on- he had no idea that she’d had it developed.
He closes that drawer, not wanting to intrude on her privacy more than necessary, before opening the next one.
Just office supplies.
He kneels down to reach the last drawer.
The final one- and there it is. He recognizes the powder as what she uses to dust for prints.
He takes the entire container, pocketing it carefully. He hopes she won’t mind.
It’s for a good cause.
He stands quickly, only to hit his head on the underside of the desk. He straightens out, cursing slightly and rubbing his head.
And then the doorknob starts to turn.
****
The department’s main phone is right at the front of the building, where just about everyone passes through. Fortunately, it’s wireless, so Ema’s able to take it from the waiting officer (who’s somewhat visibly annoyed at being kept waiting) and walk somewhere more private. She starts walking back toward her office, promising the officer that she’ll return the phone as soon as she’s done.
He doesn’t seem happy, but he doesn’t stop her, either.
She presses the phone to her ear, slightly apprehensive. “‘Lo?”
“Ema?”
She recognizes the voice on the other end almost instantly- it’s not her sister.
“Gavin? Aren’t you in the hospital?”
“Just released, fraulein, thanks for your concern.”
“Any particular reason you’re calling me in the middle of the day?”
“I need your help. I’m at Apollo’s apartment.”
Ema stops, in the hallway leading to her office. “You know you’re not supposed to be there, right? It’s technically still a crime scene.”
“Ja, I know, I know. But this is important. Have the police been back here since the day they found the body?”
Ema frowns, thinking, as she leans back against the wall. “I don’t think so?”
“Well, I was here after they left. I came back to look for- something- and I found something odd.”
“Well, don’t leave me in suspense. What is it?”
“There’s this drawer- it wasn’t open last time I was here, but it is now, and it’s empty. I know it’s a longshot, but- I think something important was in there. Something the killer might have taken, after the fact. We need to dust for prints.”
There’s a moment of silence on both ends as Ema thinks over what he’s told her. “You’re asking me to help you break the law. Neither of us are officially involved with this case.”
“Please, fraulein.”
His voice sounds raw, emotional- he’s genuinely pleading with her.
Not that it was necessary- there’s no way she was going to say no.
“Give me the address and I’ll be right there.”
She pulls out her notebook and a pen, holding the phone against her ear with her shoulder and scribbling down the address he rattles off in between thanking her profusely.
Huh. She never thought the fop would act so- vulnerable around her.
She never thought that she wouldn’t even consider rubbing it in.
She supposes it’s an unusual circumstance.
She hangs up, pocketing the phone unconsciously with her notepad.
She’ll just return it on her way out.
She walks forward just a bit before something else stops her.
Didn’t she leave the door to her office open when she left?
There was a sudden sound like someone hitting something. Did that come from inside?
Well, only one way to find out.
*****
Apollo manages to scramble back to the other side of the desk before the door opens once again, admitting Ema. She looks around the office quizzically. His heart thumps in his chest, even knowing that she can’t see him. Very carefully, he slips around her and out the door.
She doesn’t notice.
By the time she’s noticed her missing materials, he’s already out the front door and on his way back to his apartment.
*****
“We’ve got a problem,” is the first thing Ema says when Klavier opens the door.
He frowns at her, and god, he looks tired. The bags under his eyes practically have bags.
“What is it?”
“Someone stole my shit,” she explains as she pushes past him into the apartment. “My fingerprinting powder is gone.”
“Gone?” Klavier repeats, dismayed. “You’re sure you didn’t misplace it?”
She makes a face at him. “ Yes, I’m sure I didn’t misplace it, it was there this morning, and now it’s gone.”
“Well- can’t you ask someone else to borrow theirs?”
She shakes her head. “Yeah, no. I’m the only one who owns their own forensic materials. Everyone else uses the stuff owned by the department, and I’d need to give them a reason to take that. Breaking and entering a crime scene because I think the police are too incompetent to do their job isn’t a good enough reason.”
“Then why did you come? You could’ve just called back and told me.”
She smiles at him then before digging around in the pack on her shoulder, pulling out what looks like- a webcam?
“Never say I haven’t done anything for you, Gavin,” she boasts, holding the small device out for him to see.
“...What exactly are we going to do with that, fraulein?”
“It’s going to take me a few days to get more fingerprinting powder, so we’re not going to be able to do anything about that for a while. But what we can do is make sure that no one messes with the drawer in question in the meantime. The police aren’t planning on coming back here, so they won’t hurt the prints, and I trust that you haven’t. The only who might is the one that left them- so, if we leave this recording the drawer, even if the perp comes back to destroy the prints, we’ll have them caught on camera. This little thing sends me all its video, so I’ll be able to see real time.” She looks around pointedly. “So, where’s the drawer?”
*****
The apartment’s as empty as Apollo left it by the time he manages to walk all the way back. To his relief, the drawer hasn’t been tampered with- it’s still hanging open.
There is something new, though- is that a webcam?
Whatever it is, it’s sitting on the counter in his kitchen, perfectly positioned to capture the entire room. He freezes, before realizing it probably won’t be able to film him.
Probably.
He walks over to the drawer, turning the webcam so it won’t film anything odd- like a floating bottle of fingerprint powder, for example.
He knows how to do this- but he’s still nervous as he does, carefully spreading the powder over the handle. He’s only got a certain amount- he can’t afford to waste. He’s careful not to touch it, too- he’s not sure he can leave fingerprints in this state, but he doesn’t want to chance it.
The handle is surprisingly fairly sparse as far as prints go- it wasn’t a drawer that he used often. Most of his- well, he assumes they’re his, he can’t recognize his own on sight alone- are in exactly the same location, layered over each other.
There’s one print though- just one stray print, as though whoever left it opened the drawer by hooking a finger through it. It’s definitely different from the rest, and it’s slightly separated, off to the side.
Jackpot.
*****
Ema trudges into the department the next day in a daze. She hadn’t slept well the night before- not for lack of trying. Her mind was buzzing, twisting away at the puzzle Gavin had presented her with the day before.
She was looking forward to checking the footage on her laptop. It was a longshot there would actually be something, but still. It would keep her occupied until they were finally able to check the prints.
No one stops her on the way to her office- hardly anyone’s there. She came early for once, and the night shift is just ending.
The second she steps into her office, though, she knows that someone’s been there.
Her bottle of fingerprint powder right on top of her desk, next to her laptop.
She walks toward her desk, confused, half thinking that she’s just imagining it.
Maybe someone just borrowed it?
But why?
She shakes her head. Not now. She’ll work that out later.
First, to check the footage.
She sidles around her desk and opens her laptop, quickly pulling up the feed she’d set up for the webcam.
The second she does, her heart skips a beat.
The camera has definitely been moved.
Her hand tightens around the mouse. Got you.
She’ll call Klavier as soon as she knows. For now, she has to scrub through the footage.
All saved on her computer in a neat little folder, just as she’d set it up. Each hour of footage was its own file. She’ll just have to go through each one, fast forwarding until she sees something moving.
The first hour has nothing.
Neither does the second.
And at the third hour- the camera moves.
She frowns at the screen- she definitely hadn’t seen anything. But it had been moving quickly, so she’ll just check again.
She rewinds the video just a little, back to before the camera moved, and watches it in regular time.
The camera moves again.
But it didn’t catch anything.
She swears under her breath. How the hell did anyone manage that? The way they’d positioned it- you couldn’t approach it without being caught on video. No one should have been able to mess with it unless they’d already been caught by it.
She closes the window, frustrated.
They might’ve just lost the only chance they had.
She doesn’t know what to do about it. Helpless- that’s how she feels, and she hates it. Helpless, and guilty.
If she hadn’t lost her fingerprinting powder…
Without even thinking about it, she opens her internet browser and goes to check her email. Something to distract her. She’ll do something else for a while, and she’ll think of a solution as long as she’s not focusing on it. That’s how it always works. It’ll just come to her.
There’s multiple new emails cluttering her inbox- one from her boss (ignore), one from a coworker about their kids bake sale (delete), and several spam.
There is one odd one, though. She doesn’t recognize the email address. The subject is just “IMPORTANT,” written in all caps.
It could be- probably is- a virus. She opens it anyway.
There are two pictures attached. She opens those first, and for a moment she just stares at the screen, stunned.
She recognizes what they’re pictures of- the handle of the drawer that Klavier showed her the day before. Only this time, it’s coated in fingerprint powder, one print the focus of each picture.
They’re good pictures too- useable. She’ll be able to search for the prints in the database with them.
She minimizes the pictures and starts to read the email, more than a little freaked out.
The email does nothing to make her feel better- the sender insists that they can’t tell her who they are, but claims to have found the prints in Apollo’s apartment. They want her to tell them who they belong to.
She’s not going to do that. Oh, she’ll run the prints through the database- she believes they’re real. Maybe that’s overly hopeful, but she believes it. She’s not, however, going to tell the mysterious email sender the results.
Not that it matters- that’s what Apollo expected, anyway.
*****
Klavier wakes up to the sound of his ringtone, and bolts up immediately, answering without even checking the Caller I.D.
“Hello?”
“Gavin, you need to come to the department right now.”
Even through the haze of sleep, he recognizes the voice- it’s Ema.
“Has something happened?”
“I’ll say. I got an email this morning- it’s weird, but the short of it is that someone else was in Apollo’s apartment. They did what we went there to do- took prints off the handle of the drawer, and sent the pics to me. I ran them through the database.”
Klavier can hear his heart beating in his chest- it’s so loud he wouldn’t be surprised if Ema could hear it through the phone. “And? Did you get something?”
“I’ll say. One of the prints was definitely Apollo’s… but the other…” Her voice trails off for a moment.
“Well? Who was it?”
“Heard the name Melinda Yu before?”
Klavier’s throat suddenly feels dry.
“Don’t answer, that was a rhetorical question- your restraining order was in her record. Her fingerprint was at his house. I think- I think she might be the one we’re looking for, Klavier.”
He clears his throat. “Have you told the police?”
There’s a pause. “I’m just about to. I wanted to call you first.”
There’s another pause, but it seems somehow different.
“Is there something else, fraulein?”
“...You could say that. Someone’s playing a fucked up prank on me.”
“Oh?”
“Know how my fingerprinting powder was missing yesterday? Well, it was back when I got here this morning. I dusted it for prints- and- well, this is going to sound crazy.”
“Just tell me.”
“The prints were Apollo’s. No doubt about it. I have no idea what the hell’s going on, Klavier, but it’s freaking me out.”
Klavier goes quiet. So Apollo coming back- that hadn’t been a hallucination. It was real.
And he’s still here. Or at least he was, when he returned Ema’s fingerprinting powder.
Apollo must know about the fingerprints.
And if that’s the case, Klavier knows where he is.
What better place to look for concrete evidence, after all, than the house of the one you suspect is the killer?
“Klavier?” Ema’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts.
“Yes, fraulein?”
“Promise me you’re not going to do anything stupid.”
He’s already getting dressed as she says it.
“Of course,” he lies.
“I’ll take care of it, I swear.”
“I trust you, fraulein.” That, at least, isn’t a lie.
It’s not going to stop him, though.
It’s time to pay an old friend a visit.