They got into a room with a table in the middle, a television screen behind him. Owen gestured for him to sit down.
Poppy joined him and they sat in silence for a moment. "We've recovered some tapes," Owen said quietly. "Someone set fire to the ship."
He turned on the screen, and a grainy footage of the Filing Room from the ship appeared. As they watched, a figure dressed in bulky black clothing slipped in through the window. Francis, only because he knew her so well, would be able to see the figure was Poppy's, but only barely. She was completely obscured, and her clothing was large and overwhelming. The figure paused for a moment, looking up at the camera, before raising a small gun and shooting it. The screen went black. Owen turned off the television and turned to the two of them.
Owen raised an eyebrow before his gaze flickered to Poppy. "Poppy, do you have something to say?" She looked up at him with wide eyes and shook her head "No. I don't." "Poppy, tell the truth."
"I hesitate to write this off as a random instance of arson. You two certainly have motive, and despite the bulkiness of the figure, it doesn't strike me as your silhouette, Francis."
He crossed his arms. "Owen, I wouldn't be surprised if everyone had a motive for doing that. Besides, Poppy was asleep with me last night."
Owen raised an eyebrow and addressed Poppy. "Is that true?" Francis would be able to see how tightly she was squeezing her hands under the table, but she nodded. "Of course."
