Author's note: I don't own Phoenix Wright.
This story contains spoilers for JFA case 4, so don't read it if that matters to you. Please review!
8:00 PM- Wright and Co. Law Offices
Brrrrring… Brrrirng…
"Wright here."
"Mr. Phoenix Wright."
"Who is this?"
"Take the case, Wright."
"C-case?"
"Don't act the fool. My trial. You're the only hope."
Click
(Guess I'd better look into this. It can't hurt…)
Detention Center
"So… Who exactly would you be, Mr. Spiky?"
"Y-you don't know?" asked the baffled Phoenix Wright. (Didn't this man just call me?)
The man in the cell ran his strangely long fingers through his shoulder-length blonde hair. "I believe that I just said that. How much of a fool are you? And I'll ask again: Who are you?"
"I'm Phoenix Wright, defense attorney. I just got a phone call telling me to come take this case. The person on the phone clearly said 'my trial'. You're telling me it wasn't you?"
"You are as bad as the other spiky-haired one. Asking questions to which you already know the answers…"
(Other spiky-haired one? Do I have a clone running around or something?)
"Well, Mr. Phoenix Wright, defense attorney. Are you going to take it or not?"
(Now what is this guy talking about?)
"My case, fool!"
(He almost reminds me of someone else. With the fools and the mind-reading. But she's gone…)
"Do not look at me in such a manner. I, being a successful musician, can pay. You look like the sort who can barely afford-"
"Never mind what I can afford!" Phoenix replied indignantly. " Why should I take it- really?"
The man looked at the ground, muttering words that were barely audible. "Bach… He was my friend. Why would I kill him?"
"I'll take it."
The spark of kindness was extinguished as he straightened, the cocky smile returning to his face. "Wise choice, Mr. Phoenix Wright, defense attorney. I am Florian Savoyard, musician extraordinaire."
"Will you tell me about the murder?"
"Ask Spiky. I told him what happened, and I see no need to reiterate the obvious. After all, what he thinks is what will be said in court."
OBJECTION!
Phoenix's ire had now found a target. "If I'm going to defend you, I need information!"
"My lips are sealed." With that, Florian pulled out a flute and began to play a funeral dirge.
(How did he get a flute out of nowhere? It's not like he has pockets!)
He played on, oblivious to the world.
"Please! At least tell me where to investigate!"
Florian looked up, glaring. "Behind the Handel Auditorium downtown. Now, are you quite done?" He raised his flute to his mouth again and began to play. This time it was staccato, each note a deadly knife thrust.
Phoenix slowly edged out the door, never turning his back to Florian.
9:59 PM- Alleyway
(It's quiet around here. Too quiet.)
"Greetings."
"AAAAAAHHHH! W-Who ARE you?"
The man standing before Phoenix chuckled silently, toying with the switchblade he had removed from the sleeve of his black leather jacket. Phoenix could see the hair gelled into thin spikes Florian had obviously been referring to. With his black clothing and sharp blade, he was exactly the kind of person not to run into in a dark alley late at night.
(Just my luck to run into a guy like this!)
"I am Drako Knyght, the precinct's best detective. And you are?"
(He looks like some kind of mugger!)
"Best not to judge by appearances, mister. After all, you look like-"
"Never mind what I look like!"
He laughed again. "You must be that hotheaded defense attorney. Edgeworth and von Karma are always talking about you, Wright."
(Why am I not so sure that's a compliment?)
"If you're supposed to be the best detective, then why haven't I seen you before?"
"Because you were far from the best defense attorney, so they gave you the worst detective. It's policy."
Trying to change the subject, Phoenix asked, "What happened here?"
"Take this. The rest is for you to determine." Drako handed Phoenix an autopsy report.
(This guy is really strange!)
"Can I ask you questions about what happened?"
"Obviously." Drako paused. "But I might not answer."
(Well, it's an improvement on Edgeworth!)
"Why did you arrest the defendant?"
"He was here. And he… looked suspicious."
"That's ALL? You arrested him because he LOOKED SUSPICIOUS!?" Phoenix screamed, furious.
"Of course not. But that's all I'm telling you."
(Why is he being so vague?)
Drako added helpfully, "The prosecutor told me not to say any more than I could help."
"Who's prosecuting, anyway?"
"You shall find out in due time, Phoenix Wright."
"Are you allowed to tell me anything else?"
Drako paused, obviously thinking. "No."
Beep Beep
Beep Beep
"Ah, here they come," Drako muttered.
(I've heard that noise before. Where have I heard that noise before?)
CRACK!
"Detective Knyght! Return to the precinct at once!"
(Now I remember. Franziska von Karma, back from Germany. She got her whip back from Edgeworth, I see. Her trials always ring out with its cracks, and she has no mercy for foolishly foolish fools, as she puts it.)
"I see you're still practicing after that loss, you foolishly foolish fool of a defense attorney."
"I never cared about my record, von Karma. You know that."
"The more fool you…" She muttered. It was clear she didn't understand.
"Why did you come back from Germany, anyway?"
"I have my reasons."
Suddenly, Drako interjected. "I only gave him the report, sir! I gave him nothing else useful."
Franziska grinned. The effect was almost more frightening than a scowl. "Isn't Drako so much better than Scruffy, that foolish fool of a detective?"
(I wish I could defend Gumshoe. But it will do no good. I'll just get whipped.)
"Good luck with your foolish investigation, foolishly foolish fool! You'll never win!"
"I beat you twice, von Karma, and I'll do it again!" Phoenix cried.
CRACK!
"Those-CRACK! Were-CRACK! All- CRACK! Flukes! CRACK! You-CRACK! Fool! CRACK!"
(Oww… Why can't I keep my mouth shut around her? Just once?)
"See you in court, Mr. Phoenix Wright!" Franziska von Karma raised her whip in a mocking salute as she left.
(Well, there's not much else I can do, since Florian won't talk and Drako left. I'll just have to wait until the trial.)