How This All Turned Out

Not Quite a Columbo-Level Investigation

Germany: is where the inventor of the first combustion engine car, Karl Benz, was from.

Entering the bar, America sees a woman with a white flag with a blue "X" across it and a coat of arms in the middle standing, hands in pockets, behind the counter top, staring off into the middle distance.

The room is empty beyond the one employee and America makes his way around the tables to her. There isn't any police tape or anything around and, if he didn't know better, America wouldn't have guessed the place had been had been a murder comit there only a few days ago.

America goes over to the woman, and, entirely unsure of how to start this conversation, says "Hey, um, I'm a friend of Canada's,"

The woman ('Nova Scotia' says her name tag) narrows her eyes at him and tilts her head slightly. "Are you now?" America tries not to break eye contact as she scrutanises him.

Maybe it hadn't been a good idea to say that... I she thought Canada was a murderer, then that would totaly freak her out. On the other hand, she may be in league with Municipality and asking her questions could get him into trouble.

"Yeah...I am" America shoves his hands into the pockets of his ripped jeans, knowing he'll fidget with them if he doesn't. He pauses, and, deciding that he might as well hope for the best, continues "It's just, people think he - killed someone - but he's innocent! The police won't tell me anything and I just want to know what is going on." America falters near the end, feeling a bit foolish. Her face, however, softens almost imperceptibly and he relaxes slightly.

"What's your name?" She looks him up and down, as if something has occurred to her.

"America," He answers hesitantly.

"Thought so," she says, relief coloring her voice, the tension in her seeming to vanish, "Yeah, Canada mentioned you."

"Oh," America says, trying to figure out how to keep the conversation going.

Thankfully, Nova Scotia seems willing to go along with his inquiry, despite it being not quite a Columbo-level investigation

"Well, Canada, Yukon and Winnipeg are the ones with the late shift on Tuesdays," she starts, "there should have been more but the schedule has been a mess since New Brunswick left. Yukon said she went home early 'cause of an emergency,''

"They found Winnipeg yesterday. Head injury apparently." she says, grimly, "Police did their thing and said it was Canada. That's about it, really."

The door opens behind him and someone comes in, so America thanks Nova Scotia and moves out of the way of the customer approaching the counter and pulls out his phone.

Just as he finishes texting Germany what he learned, he hears muffled voices from behind the fire exit. The voices are too muffled to make out anything clearly, and he isn't really trying to listen in. That is, until he hears someone snap " Until he's in prison! "

America knows they might not be talking about Canada, but he also is not going to risk even the slightest chance to get more information.

He tries to eavesdrop further but can't make anything out, not without putting his ear to the door.

Then it hits him, if this street was anything like the one he worked on, the alley between the electronics shop and it's neighbor should lead behind the shop - right where the two people were talking.

He leaves the shop in a half run, knowing he will miss part of the conversation as he does, and slows down when he enters the alleyway. He sneaks around the side of the building, trying to not make any noise.

" - Tapes from Tuesday." America freezes as his foot knocks an empty can "You said there weren't any!" They are still talking so America assumes they hadn't noticed the noise. He presses up against the wall, hiding behind the corner and, like an utter genius, thinks to record the conversation.

"I'm sorry, but I can't do anything about it." The responding voice is quiet and America can hear a slight tremor in it.

"What do you mean "you can't," The first voice continues "you know Ontario, we do so much for you and now, the one time I ask for a small favor, you can't even do that!"

There is a pause, the sound of the second person - Ontario - shifting around and then they finally stutter out: "The c-cops already think they have the guy, they're not bothering to get a warrant to look at them..."

"Well you better hope that no-one checks them or you will - " It is at this moment America receives a text. The " On my lunch break, meet me here. " is accompanied with a location and a painfully loud and cheery ' Ping~ ' that makes America feel like ice water has been dumped over him. What are the chances they hadn't heard it?

"What was that?" The authoritative voice asked.

America spins around, stumbles, rights himself and sprints out of the alley. On the street he pulls up the hood of his sweater and runs back a few paces and spins around.

He begins walking back towards the alleyway entrance, keeping his breathing as under control as he can, hoping she would think he is just a passerby. As he pauses the recording on his phone, he casually glances at the woman exiting the alleyway, not long enough to be suspicious but just enough to remember her face - dual shades of blue, white swirl in the center.

He continues down the road, not risking looking back, hoping she doesn't suspect him.

The moment he gets to his car, he starts shaking. His hands are numb, his legs feel like they have little jolts of electricity running up and down them. He should have muted his phone. Fuck, he shouldn't have listened in on the conversation in the first place. People probably got hurt listening to things like that! What even was 'that'? Extortion? Blackmail? The speaker had definitely been trying to coerce Ontario to withhold evidence from the police. Which means he knows who did it. By flag at least.

Once he stops shaking, America texts Germany, telling him what had happened, and sends him the audio file.

" Well that makes things easier. " He responds after a while.

" Umm, how???? " America replies.

"We just have to hack the computer & get the file " Which was a good idea in theory, but America could see a slight problem.

"Yea, do you know how to do that? cause i dont? "

"No, But I know someone who can. " Germany responds and the part of America that never really stopped derping out pointed out that that would have been a super cool movie line, if it hadn't been over text. His more sensible side was telling him that real life situations where lines like that were necessary were not fun and probably very, very concerning.

The little three dots indicating Germany was typing bounced around for a while. He finally responds, " Change of location."

"Meet me here" And sends him a map.