Phoenix Wright Fanfiction
Synopsis:
Talented young attorney Aion Mercury takes the task of defending a man accused of murdering his girlfriend. However, when Aion mysteriously disappears after the first day of the trial, Phoenix and Edgeworth must work together once again to expose the truth and save not just one, but two innocent lives.
Author's note:
I admit, I usually don't like to see original characters appear in fanfiction. However, I wanted to see Edgeworth get some love and I didn't feel that any of the canonical characters were up to the task. Don't worry though, all the normal crew makes an appearance (at least, I tried to include my favorite ones.)
Oh, and another thing. I haven't played Apollo Justice yet (3 days until it's released here! I already have my preorder in, haha.) But I have played about five minutes of the demo. I stopped when I began to get this awful suspicion about who's responsible for the murder in the first case. So I guess what I'm trying to say is, this is supposed to be canon, but just up until after T&T. I realized that some of the characters have inconsistent histories (namely, Kristoph – thanks for pointing that out, Pen and Paper71 /smiles ) so just be kind and ignore that, haha. Thus, if my portrayal of certain characters from the fourth installment of our favorite lawyer game deviate from the in-game canon, please don't be mad.
And oh yeah. DISCLAIMER: this is completely a work of fanfiction.
July 15, 2:03 pm. Detention Center.
Phoenix headed for the Detention Center exit, feeling quite pleased with himself. He had just come from seeing his client released from custody; the trial had ended earlier this afternoon, with the defendant being acquitted. It had been a little touch and go in the beginning, but once he had gotten around to establishing that his client could not, in fact, drive, it was acknowledged that the defendant could not have been the culprit in the recent hit-and-run incident. The judge pronounced the defendant "Not guilty," everyone threw lots of confetti, end of story.
After the trial was over, Maya had taken Pearl to Kurain Village for a brief visit, so Phoenix had the rest of the day to himself. He was so busy thinking about his exciting plans for the evening (namely, parking himself on the office sofa and catching up on some sleep), that he didn't notice the person he ran into until he was helping her off of the floor.
"Oh! I'm so sorry," he apologized, reaching down to lend the woman a hand. She laughed, looking up at him with a wry smile.
"Head still in the clouds, Phoenix?" she asked, standing and brushing off her skirt.
His eyebrows flew up in surprise. The woman in front of him was in her early twenties and pretty, with dark, sleek hair and mischievous brown eyes.
"Aion?" he exclaimed. "Long time no see! How are you?"
"Not bad, considering," she said dryly. He flashed her a rueful grin.
"Sorry about that. I wasn't really paying attention, I guess. Are you here for a client?" he asked. Aion Mercury had been his classmate and friend in law school; she was a year or so younger than him but had perhaps gotten her act together a little faster, and thus had graduated with him. Confident and quick on her feet—well, when certain other people weren't crashing into her, he thought sheepishly—she was a defense attorney of no mean talent. Currently, she worked at a private firm under one of the top lawyers in the state.
"Yeah, I'm meeting a new client today," she said. "The Emeraldine murder."
"Ah, I read about that," Phoenix said, nodding. "It seemed like a pretty tight case."
Aion made a face.
"It is," she said. "But I figured I should at least come down and talk to the guy."
"The boyfriend, right?" Phoenix asked. Aion nodded.
"Yes. The boyfriend, one Ayden Onyx. It doesn't look good for him; he has no alibi for the night of the murder, Emeraldine's neighbor saw him arrive, and his prints are on the murder weapon."
"But you think there is the possibility that he is innocent," Phoenix said. It was more a statement than a question; he already knew the answer. It was the same thing he told himself when meeting a potential client: there was always the possibility of innocence. Of course, he knew that the opposite was also true—sometimes there was a good reason to put a particular person on trial. His eyes darkened as he thought of a certain ex-Nickel Samurai's familiar, malicious smirk.
Watching Phoenix's face, Mercury could guess at his thoughts; she had paid close attention to the Corrida Case two years ago; with the killer being the lead actor for a popular children's show, it had caused quite a stir in the media. During that trial, she had initially been concerned with Phoenix's behavior in court—had he really come so far from the idealistic young man she had known in law school? But then the truth about his tight circumstances had come to light—the whole situation with his aide being kidnapped and threatened with death unless Phoenix won the case—and Aion, like many others, had been relieved to find out that Phoenix was still very much on the side of integrity and justice. The conclusion to that trial was proof enough of that, with Phoenix working with the prosecution to expose his own client's guilt, even though it meant a smudge on Phoenix's own win record.
"I meant to send you something after that case, but right after that I got swamped in my own work and it completely slipped my mind," Aion said, breaking Phoenix out of his gloomy thoughts. He looked at her quizzically.
"After the Corrida case," she clarified. "To honor your…honor." She flashed Phoenix a quick grin, and he smiled back.
"Ah, it's all right. Besides, I can't take full credit for that anyway—a lot of it was Edgeworth."
"Perhaps," Aion replied. She glanced at Phoenix's watch and grimaced.
"Sorry Phoenix, I gotta run—I'm already late for this meeting. But we really should do a better job of keeping in touch from now on, okay?"
Phoenix nodded. "You got it; it'd be good to see Gavin, too. Good luck, Aion. I'll see you around." He gave her a wave and headed out of the detention center, and Aion went in the other direction, toward the inner holding cells. She was ready to meet the defendant.
Ayden Onyx was a handsome man around Aion's age, with long black hair and an earring in his left ear. He gave Aion a sad smile through the glass when she sat down; she calmly returned his gaze.
"I'm Aion," she said, introducing herself. He nodded.
"Ayden. Nice to meet you, Ms. Mercury—although I suppose the circumstances could be better."
Aion said nothing, waiting for him to start. He took the hint.
"I appreciate you agreeing to see me, even if you end up turning me down," Ayden said, his voice polite but weary. "I've gathered that everything points against me; when he brought me in for questioning, the detective in charge was very explicit about all of the incriminating evidence they have against me."
Aion studied him for a moment. "And yet you intend to plead 'Not guilty?'"
"I didn't kill Carmen," he whispered. "Though I didn't save her, either."
Aion narrowed her eyes.
"What do you mean, you didn't save her?"
He looked away.
"She called me, that night—and I didn't pick up the phone—" he broke off, looking down at his hands. They were long-fingered and thin, elegant and strong-looking, except that the nails were bitten down to the quick. He saw her glance fall on his hands and he curled his fingers under his palms. Aion considered him a moment before speaking.
"Mr. Onyx. I understand that this may seem like a silly question, as I have no guarantee that you will tell me the truth. But I will ask you for the truth, regardless: did you murder Carmen Emeraldine?"
Ayden looked straight at Aion with an odd expression. His eyes, the color of bitter coffee, were unreadable.
"There is also no guarantee that you will believe me, Ms. Mercury. Yet I will answer you. No, I did not kill Carmen. No matter what happened—I could never."
Aion was silent a moment, and then she gave a slight nod, and smiled.
"Very well, Mr. Onyx. If you will have me, I will consent to represent you in court."
A half-smile tugged at Ayden's lips.
"Thank you, Ms. Mercury."
She waved his thanks away.
"Save it. The trial starts tomorrow; we have a lot to cover. Let's start with this 'incriminating evidence' the detective mentioned." She paused. "Who was this detective, anyway?"
Ayden frowned. "I don't seem to remember his name—I've never been very good with them, and everything was going so quickly—I had just been told that Carmen was dead—"
"Understandable," Aion said. "Can you tell me what he looks like, then?"
"Ah, kind of a…ah, well he has black hair and he was kind of…scruffy," Ayden said apologetically. "Oh—and he says 'pal' a lot, but not exactly in the most friendly way." He made a face. "You'd think I'd remember his name, having met him once before."
Aion, who had been in the process of groaning—Detective Gumshoe, again?—raised a dark eyebrow.
"You've met Detective Gumshoe before?" she asked curiously. Ayden's face lit up in recognition.
"Gumshoe! Yes, that's it!" he exclaimed. He nodded. "Yes. A few weeks ago, when I filed a report for my car being broken into, he's the one who took down all the information and stuff like that." He frowned. "But I didn't know he was a homicide detective. Don't they have clerks for that kind of stuff?"
Aion gave him a wry smile. "Our Detective Gumshoe is a jack-of-all-trades of sorts," she said. "That is…he is constantly finding himself in hot water with the chief, and so he finds other ways to occupy himself until he can show his face in his proper department again."
"I see," Ayden said, clearly more than a little wary about having such a detective in charge of his case. Aion laughed.
"Don't worry about it," she advised. "Anyway. Back to business. What is this evidence Gumshoe waved in your face?"
Ayden slumped a little in his chair and sighed.
"Well, they have a knife with my fingerprints on it—the murder weapon, apparently. And an eye witness—Carmen's neighbor claims to have seen me going up to her apartment that evening, just a little while before Carmen's estimated time of death."
Aion frowned. "That's it?"
Her new client shook his head. "No. He also found out from Carmen's mother that Carmen and I were supposed to go out to dinner that night—a belated birthday celebration for her, since I was out of town on business last week on her actual birthday."
"But you didn't go out that night?" Aion guessed. He nodded.
"We didn't."
"Why not?" she asked. Ayden shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
"We…we just decided not to go out that night," he said. Aion raised an eyebrow again, but decided to leave it for now.
"So you weren't together at all that night—the fifth of July?"
He nodded again. "I was alone at home, sitting around, just relaxing, taking a breather."
"But you don't have an alibi," Aion said. Ayden closed his eyes.
"No, I do not. I live alone, and my car was still in the shop—it had taken some damage from the recent theft—so it wasn't parked in my stall like it normally would be if I were at home."
Aion nodded. "All right. Well, let's just go through this, step by step. The truth always comes out, somehow." She smiled briefly. "So. Do you have any idea who the eye witness might have seen and mistaken for you?"
Ayden thought about it, absently pulling at his stud earring.
"I don't know," he said finally. "The neighbor is Mrs. Eite, and she's seen me hundreds of times—Carmen and I dated for almost three years, so I was around fairly often. She'd definitely recognize me."
"In other words, if you were going to kill Carmen, why would you let yourself be seen by this woman?" Aion agreed. Ayden shrugged helplessly.
"I could be a very careless murderer, I guess. But you'll have to take my word that I'm not," he said dryly. Aion grinned.
"Unfortunately, while I, paragon of justice that I may be, might believe you, you can take my word that the prosecution most certainly will not. So we must go through the rest of this as carefully as possible and see if we can't get a clearer view of what really happened. I—" Aion was interrupted by the sound of her cell phone ringing. She slipped it out of her purse and was about to silence it when she realized that it was her boss, Defense Attorney Kristoph Gavin. Best to answer it. She gave Ayden an apologetic look; he shook his head with a smile. She flipped open her phone and answered it.
"Hello?"
"Aion. Come pick up these files." Kristoph's familiar, calm voice came through her phone, crackling slightly because of bad reception in the Detention Center."
"What?" Aion said, frowning. "What files?"
"The files for your case," Kristoph said patiently. "I have here the autopsy report for one Carmen Emeraldine, and the evidence list—" he paused upon hearing her silence. "You did decide to defend Mr. Onyx, did you not?"
Aion rolled her eyes. "There's no point in arguing with you, is there?" she said in resignation.
"Save it for tomorrow," her boss said mildly. "Now come get these. You will be able to make more sense out of your client once you have this information."
"All right. I'll be there in about twenty minutes," Aion said. "Assuming traffic is not hideous."
"Very well. They'll be on your desk," Kristoph said. "Let me know if you need anything further."
"Will do, boss," Aion said with a smirk that Kristoph couldn't see, but could definitely hear.
"Mmm," was all he said, and then he hung up. Aion tucked her phone back into her bag and turned to Ayden again.
"I'm sorry, I need to go grab some things that will help with this case. I'll be back in less than an hour. Do you need anything that I can pick up for you? Sometimes people need reading glasses or new socks or something," she said with a wry smile. Ayden shook his head.
"Thank you for the offer, but no. Anyway, I don't have my glasses any more—they were stolen along with the rest of the stuff in my car."
"Are you wearing contacts?" Aion asked curiously. "Or can't you see?" she grinned. Ayden gave a crooked smile.
"No, I had laser eye surgery last month—I can see fine. But when I wore contacts, I always kept my glasses in my car, just in case a contact ripped or something. Seeing is kind of a necessary requirement for driving."
"Agreed," Aion said. "I do the same thing." She grabbed her bag and stood up.
"All right, I'll be back, Mr. Onyx. Prepare for a long night—we have to be ready for court tomorrow." With that, she left.
July 16, 10:15 am. Courtroom 1.
"We are gathered here today..."
In holy matrimony, Edgeworth thought wryly, and promptly tuned out the rest of the Judge's opening speech, while merely giving the appearance of paying rapt attention. He glanced surreptitiously across the courtroom at the defense, a smartly dressed young woman with black hair tied neatly at the nape of her neck. She had the air of someone who was completely self-possessed and efficient, Edgeworth noted with mild surprise. It was a welcome change from Wright, who was usually sweating bullets by the time he made it to court. It might be nice to face off against a half-competent defense attorney, for once. He mused over the possibility for a moment before realizing that the woman was looking expectantly at him—along with the rest of the court. Blast, he thought.
"Ah, the prosecution is ready, Your Honor," he said smoothly. The Judge didn't seem to notice Edgeworth's temporary lapse in attentiveness; he nodded once to Edgeworth and turned to the defense's bench. The woman gave a slight nod.
"As is the defense, Your Honor," she said coolly. Edgeworth raised an eyebrow; ah, so this was Kristoph Gavin's prodigy, Aion Mercury. It was obvious that Gavin was her mentor; she possessed the same cool, calm air and her face betrayed no emotion, not even excitement or anxiety. Interesting. Edgeworth himself had never prosecuted one of Gavin's clients in court before, but having met the defense attorney at conferences and having heard all of the stories, he was well aware of Gavin's renowned smooth operator operations in the courtroom. No matter. He would still wrap this case up nicely.
"The prosecution submits that the defendant, Mr. Ayden Onyx, is guilty of the murder of his girlfriend, Ms. Carmen Emeraldine. The two had planned to go out to dinner on the night of the murder, an eyewitness saw him enter the victim's apartment that night, and his fingerprints were found on the murder weapon. With all of this conclusive evidence, there's really no need to go any further, Your Honor." Edgeworth gave his trademark smirk and snuck a glance at the defense. Mercury merely looked amused.
"Objection," she said calmly. "The prosecution has yet to prove anything."
The Judge nodded. "Sustained. Mr. Edgeworth, please call your first witness."
Edgeworth shrugged. It was always worth a try.
"As you wish, Your Honor. The prosecution will then call our first witness to the stand."
At his words, a thin, tall woman in her mid-thirties made her way to the stand with an exaggerated attempt at grace that set several members of the court audience to hushed giggling. She appeared not to notice as she took her place at the stand, holding her head high.
"Please state for the court your name and occupation, witness," Edgeworth instructed. The woman batted her long—and obviously fake—lashes at him.
"Of course, Mr. Edgeworth," she said. She turned to regard the full court imperiously. "My name is Mrs. Paros Eite, and I'm anartiste." She looked around smugly.
"Indeed," the Judge said, peering curiously at the witness. "All right, Mrs. Eite, please tell us what you saw."
"Of course," Mrs. Eite said dramatically. "Well, it was July 5th, the night of the crime, you know, and I saw that man there—Mr. Onyx—going to Carmen's apartment, like he usually does. He's over there at least four or five times a week, so I didn't think anything of it. Oh, if I only knew what that cruel man was planning," she said passionately, "I would have acted! Carmen would still be alive!"
Edgeworth rolled his eyes, and even the Judge seemed taken aback by the witness' fervor.
"Ah, no one is holding you responsible, madam," the Judge assured her. "But with your help we can make sure that the one who is responsible can be brought to justice."
"Of course, Your Honor," Mrs. Eite said, nodding. "I'll do what I can."
"Very good. All right, you say you saw the defendant go to the victim's apartment on the night of the murder." The Judge turned to the defense. "Ms. Mercury, you may now cross-examine the witness."
The witness turned to the defense with a sickeningly sweet smile, made all the more terrifying by her unique use of cosmetics.
"All right. Let's start by hearing your testimony once more, if you would, Mrs. Eite," the dark-haired defense attorney said calmly. The witness smiled obligingly.
"Of course, Ms…Mercury, was it? Well. As I was saying, I saw Carmen's boyfriend that night, and he was going to her apartment. From the elevator—or the stairs, both are in the same place—any visitor of Carmen's has to walk past my apartment. It was him, all right."
Edgeworth was listening to the witness, but he was watching the woman standing at the bench across from him. No trace of concern showed on her face; but of course, it was still very early.
"Could you give a guess at the time, Mrs. Eite?" Aion asked. The witness nodded.
"Of course. Perhaps, 8 pm; my husband and I had already eaten dinner and cleaned everything up."
"Did you see anyone else pay a visit to the victim's apartment that night, before or after Mr. Onyx?" Aion asked Mrs. Eite. The witness shook her head.
"No. No one at all."
"And you're sure that the one man you did see was the defendant, Mr. Onyx?"
"Positive," Mrs. Eite declared. Aion nodded.
"Can you describe what he looked like at that moment?"
Mrs. Eite laughed. "Of course I can. He was dressed in one of his usual trendy dark suits, and wearing his glasses. It couldn't have been anyone else."
Aion gave a slight smile.
"Just out of curiosity, Mrs. Eite, what were you doing when you happened to see Mr. Onyx on his way to the victim's apartment?"
The witness shrugged. "Oh, this and that. I work from home, you know, and I like to look around to find new inspiration. I spend a lot of time staring out of windows."
You don't say, Edgeworth thought wryly. I would never have guessed. He turned his attention back to the cross-examination.
"I see," Aion was saying. "Mrs. Eite, please take a look at the defendant," the defense attorney instructed politely, gesturing toward her client. "Do you notice anything?"
The witness shrugged carelessly. "My powers of observation are acute—I am an artiste, after all. I could list everything for you, but I'm sure that'd be a waste of your and my time. What are you getting at, Ms. Mercury?"
"Mr. Onyx is not wearing glasses," Aion said. "He had a successful laser eye operation performed last month, and no longer needs glasses to see. That being said, why would he have been wearing glasses when you saw him? They would only serve to distort his vision."
Mrs. Eite stared at her in confusion. "What? What are you talking about? Of course he wears glasses—"
"Clearly, he does not," Aion said smoothly. "Perhaps there is some other explanation?"
"Sunglasses, maybe?" Edgeworth cut in. "This seems trivial, Ms. Mercury. What is so interesting about the defendant's choice of eyewear?"
"Why would anyone be walking around wearing sunglasses at 8 pm?" Aion replied. "And before you suggest it, Mr. Edgeworth, people usually have laser eye surgery because they want to eliminate the tediousness of having to put on corrective lenses; I doubt any such person would wear lenses just for fun."
Edgeworth gave a cool smile. "You never know, Ms. Mercury."
She shrugged. "Very well. But if the defendant were on the way to commit a murder, as you have propose, why would he go out of the way to make himself more recognizable or memorable?"
Edgeworth rolled his eyes. "Very well. I concede that the issue of the defendant's eyewear is indeed, very suspicious. Can we now move on?"
"Please do," the Judge said.
"Of course, Your Honor," Aion agreed.
"Wait!" Mrs. Eite said huffily, and the woman began to fumble around with her purse. Edgeworth looked at her sharply; out of the corner of his eye he saw Aion react in the same manner.
"Since you're suggesting that my memory—or my keen eye for detail—are somehow fallible, Ms. Mercury, I will show you something," the witness announced, waving a thin square around triumphantly. "As I said, I'm an artiste, and my medium is photography!"
"You have a picture?" Aion asked, her dark eyes narrowing. The witness' expression was smug.
"I sure do," she replied. Edgeworth frowned. Why did the witnessnever submit their evidence properly? It made for dramatic commotion, yes, but just once he wanted a witness to cooperate with him.
"Why wasn't I informed of this piece of evidence?" Edgeworth demanded. Mrs. Eite turned large, apologetic eyes on him.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Edgeworth. I don't usually like to share my work before it's finished, you see, but I can't just stand here and have my testimony slandered, now can I?" she appealed. He stared at her.
"Indeed," he drawled. "Very well. Your Honor, the prosecution asks that this photo be submitted into the court record."
"Acknowledged," the Judge said. "Now let's see this picture."
"Yeeeeees," Mrs. Eite called out in a sing-song voice. "Here you go," she said, handing it over to the baliff, who took it over to the Judge. He peered at it curiously. The photo was black and white, and showed a man walking past the photographer, who appeared to have taken the photo from her window; though the camera captured mostly the man's back, the edge of his glasses sticking out at the side of his head, only slightly obscured by the man's hair. The man was tall and his build resembled Mr. Onyx's; the suit the man wore was also done in the same style as the one the defendant was presently wearing in court today. The date and time were stamped on the bottom of the photograph; July 5th, 8:07 pm.
"There!" Mrs. Eite said exultantly.
"I see," the Judge said, and passed the photo around to both the prosecution and defense. Edgeworth glanced at the photo, and then looked up at Ms. Mercury, who was frowning.
"It is so hard to argue against visual evidence, isn't it?" he murmured. Aion merely smiled, ignoring the jibe.
"Mrs. Eite, you mentioned that Mr. Onyx was frequently at the victim's apartment, correct?" the defense attorney asked. The witness nodded.
"Yes. They had been dating for quite some time; he was a familiar presence in the building."
"And did you take a picture of him every time he passed by?" Aion asked with mild curiosity. Mrs. Eite tossed her curly auburn hair.
'Of course not."
"Is this the first time you've taken a picture of him?" the defense pressed. Mrs. Eite glared at her.
"No, if you must know, it is not. What are you trying to say, Ms. Mercury?"
Aion shrugged innocently.
"I am just curious as to why you decided to take a picture on this particular day, Mrs. Eite. You couldn't have known that the picture would be valuable as evidence in a murder case."
The witness grew red, a shade that perfectly matched her—probably dyed—hair, Edgeworth observed.
"Oh ho, I'm on to you, missy," Mrs. Eite raged. "You're trying to make me out to be some kind of freak, so that you can dismiss my testimony! Well I already told you, I'm an artiste, and my medium is photography! I like to capture beauty, and that—" she stabbed a dagger-nailed finger in the defendant's direction—"is simply a fine specimen of manly beauty." She gave a tragic sigh.
Mr. Onyx blinked; Aion held back a grin, instead inclining her head gracefully in acknowledgement.
"I quite agree, Mrs. Eite," she said, and, Edgeworth realized with a grimace, judging by the soft sighs echoing in the courtroom, so did the female half of the court audience.
"However," Aion continued, "as you've said, you've seen him before, and this is not the first time you've photographed Mr. Onyx. Can you explain why?"
"It's really none of your business," the witness snapped, "but I'm working on a piece that is inspired by the immaculate beauty of the sterner sex. I have pictures of many attractive men—here's even one of Mr. Edgeworth," she said winsomely, flashing another photo and batting her eyes at the prosecutor.
What is this crazy woman even talking about? Edgeworth thought, wearing an expression of utter boredom. Of all the ridiculous nonsense—he stopped, his eyes widening slightly. What did she just say!
"I see," Aion said, amused. "And this project is a recent development of yours, Mrs. Eite?"
"It is," the witness replied testily.
"All right. Mrs. Eite, you've been a marvelous witness so far. I wonder, did you actually see Mr. Onyx walk into the victim's apartment?"
Mrs. Eite gave a flippant toss of her hair in reply.
"As a matter of fact, I did. Mr. Onyx has his own key; he used it to open the door and go right in."
"And you saw this from your window," Aion said. The witness nodded.
"Of course."
"Objection," Aion said calmly. "Look at this picture. You claim that you took this picture from your window, and judging from the photograph itself, this is true. However, from this angle, you can only see the back of this man—whoever he may be—walking into the right side of the photo, where your line of sight ends. The apartment of Carmen Emeraldine was two doors down, Mrs. Eite; there is no way you could've seen Mr. Onyx open the door and enter her apartment."
The witness balked and Edgeworth leaned back, eyebrow raised.
"Objection," he said coolly. "Perhaps she didn't actually see the defendant enter the victim's apartment, but where else would he have gone? There is no exit that way; to leave he would have had to pass Mrs. Eite's apartment once again. Unless you're suggesting he paid a visit to any of the door neighbors in between?"
Aion shook her head.
"No. But, Mrs. Eite, you said that you didn't see anyone else pass by your door that evening. Did you see Mr. Onyx leave?"
The witness was bright red, her face flushed and angry.
"Well—I—that is," she stammered, and Aion shook her head.
"The body was discovered at around 10 pm, Mrs. Eite, by the superintendent of the building, who had gone to inspect the victim's faulty water pipes, as she had requested earlier that day. No one else in the complex saw Mr. Onyx that evening, and you said that you didn't see anyone else pass by—including the superintendent of the building. Just how reliable is your testimony, I wonder?" Aion said sharply. The witness glared at her.
"I know what I saw!" Mrs. Eite said icily. "So what if I didn't see him leave, or see Mr. Chess go to her apartment? I don't camp out in front of my window all night!"
"No, but you admit that it's possible that other people may have gone to the victim's apartment that night without you noticing, correct?" Aion countered. Mrs. Eite glowered at her, but said nothing. Edgeworth decided it was time for him to step in at that point.
"Very nice, Ms. Mercury," he said, with just a hint of mockery in his voice. "But after this nice little detour, you have merely pointed out the possibility that someone else entered the apartment that night—you have no proof. However, the proof against the defendant is still quite strong."
"So let's see some of it, and stop wasting time with this witness, who has clearly already told us everything that could possibly be of use, slight as it is," Aion replied, her voice cool and even.
"Yes, let's," the Judge agreed, banging his gavel. "Witness, you're dismissed."
Edgeworth blinked. Who does this girl think she is? A bloody prosecutor? Manipulating the judge is my job! He narrowed his eyes.
"As you say, Your Honor," he agreed blandly. "The prosecution would then like to call attention to this knife, submitted as Exhibit A. As you can see, this knife bears the fingerprints of the defendant, and the blade matches the profile for the three stab wounds inflicted on the victim. The knife was found in the dumpster at the bottom of the apartment building; it is assumed that the defendant tried to dispose of it quickly."
"Why would he do that?" Aion asked. "Obvious no one saw him leave; he had no need to hurry. Why wouldn't he just take it and throw it out on the way home, where it would be less easily found?"
"I can't pretend to know how the mind of a criminal functions," Edgeworth replied. "But argue all you like about possibilities, Ms. Mercury; the fact remains that his fingerprints are on the murder weapon. The blade of the knife was wiped down, but not completely; when treated with certain chemicals, our forensics team found traces of the victim's blood on the blade."
Aion looked at the knife thoughtfully, her eyebrows slightly furrowed. Edgeworth waited patiently; was that a concession to defeat?
"Does the defense have any further questions about the murder weapon?" the Judge asked. Aion shook her head.
"Not at this moment, Your Honor. However, the defense would like to point out that that," she gestured toward the knife, "is a kitchen knife."
Edgeworth raised an eyebrow.
"Why, so it is," the Judge said. "How gruesome. Thank you, Ms. Mercury. Now—"
"What are you implying?" Edgeworth interrupted, narrowing his gray eyes. The defense attorney shrugged.
"If you were going to kill someone, Mr. Edgeworth, is a kitchen knife the best weapon you could come up with?"
"No, he prefers firearms," the Judge supplied helpfully. "Don't you remember the Hammond murder—"
"Of which you yourself declared me innocent, Your Honor," Edgeworth grated.
"Oh. Right," the Judge remembered. "Never mind, then. Ms. Mercury, what are you saying?"
The slender attorney shrugged. "I took the initiative of going down to investigate the victim's apartment myself, Your Honor. Having seen the autopsy report and the evidence list, I explored the victim's kitchen, and found this." She held out a photograph, showing perhaps six or seven knives laid out in a row, with a noticeable gap between two of the knives on the right.
"Ah! A whole cache of weapons!" the Judge exclaimed. Aion shook her head.
"Ah, no, Your Honor," she said. "Actually, this is the kitchen knife set that the victim owned. You can see that there is a knife missing from the set here—the murder weapon, as it were," she said. "The make of the knife and the details match the rest of the set here."
"The point, Ms. Mercury?" Edgeworth prompted. She smiled.
"Of course, Mr. Edgeworth. The point it, as we have heard, the defendant and the victim had been dating for quite some time, meaning that he was often over at her apartment and perhaps they cooked together a few times. I had all of these knives tested for fingerprints, and they all bear Mr. Onyx's fingerprints—as well as Ms. Emeraldines, although of course it was hard to get an exact match, since the fingerprints are smudged and overlapped. Thus, I submit that it's not all that unreasonable to find Mr. Onyx's fingerprints on the murder weapon; any killer could have worn gloves so that their own fingerprints wouldn't ruin the perfect set-up."
There were murmurs in the court, and the Judge was looking thoughtfully—well, that was new, Edgeworth thought—at the photo submitted by the defense.
"Were your fingerprints absurdly clear?" Aion asked sweetly. Edgeworth hesitated only a moment before answering.
"No," he said flatly. Aion smiled.
"And did you find a fingerprint that might have been the victim's on the weapon?"
Edgeworth's stony silence was answer enough.
"Your Honor, I would therefore suggest that the evidence and testimony given today by the prosecution is in fact not at all conclusive, and the court requires another day to reach a verdict. During which time, of course, we will all obtain further evidence to validate our cases."
The Judge nodded.
"That sounds reasonable. Very well; court is adjourned for the day."
And that was that. Edgeworth looked appraisingly at the defense attorney, who was calmly gathering her things and getting ready to leave. She should've been a prosecutor, he thought mildly, and left the courtroom. There was work to be done.