Much to John and Mrs. Hudson's relief, Tuesday brought with it a new case. Delivered to Baker Street that morning was a letter from an unknown sender. It was torn in the bottom right corner, which only Sherlock seemed to understand. He read the letter out loud so that John could digest what Sherlock's mind had already figured out.

One dead.

I send this so there will be no more. Contact P. Wright.

When he was finished reading the letter, Sherlock turned to John and grinned triumphantly. "And with those few words, we have a case!"

It didn't take long for John to catch on to that, but he wondered about the missing corner. "That we do. But you wouldn't happen to have an idea why the corner is torn, would you?"

Sherlock chuckled at the question, amused at the fact that John would ask it. He held the letter up so that John could see, and asked the simple question: "What's missing from this letter? Something that would normally go-" Sherlock points to the torn end, "right here?" With such a simple explanation, John was slightly embarrassed.

"A signature."

"Yes, a signature John. And since it's been torn off, we can assume that the sender no longer wants us to know his identity."

"Well, do you know who the sender might be?"

Sherlock set the letter down and turned back to John with a huge smile on his face. "Absolutely no idea. But we know where to start!"

He had heard the name on the letter before. P. Wright, or if his suspicions were correct, Phoenix Wright, was an egotistical defense attorney that had made quite a name for himself by solving cases as well as exonerating his clients from all charges. Sherlock remembered that Wright had been a part of a few large-scale mysteries a while back, but he didn't think much of the attorney at the time.

Sherlock was intrigued at the letter's suggestion however, and wasted no time. "John, I think we ought to pay Mr. Wright a visit. Ready?"

"Always."

For Phoenix, that entire morning was spent trying to get ahold of the investigation. There are two suspects. Both dined with the victim the night of her death, and both were arrested shortly afterwards. Neither had any political motivation for-

"PHOENIX!"

His concentration was broken abruptly by Maya, who had been trying to grab his attention for quite some time.

"You have visitors! And they won't wait long before-"

"No, we won't." Sherlock entered the room briskly, quite pleased with the disturbance he had caused. He was accompanied by John, and took up as little time as he could walking to Phoenix's desk before stopping right in front of it. He seemed to examine Phoenix for a moment, his eyes scanning over the key aspects of Phoenix's desk and disposition. His arms are tucked under his desk. That's very unusual for a confident and experienced lawyer. Since his papers are scattered so messily, I can see why.

Hoping to make this encounter a short one, Sherlock asked, "Mr. Wright, is it?"

"Um… yeah, that's-"

"Excellent. You have a case that you need help with, and I take it the disastrous mess of papers on your desk is that case." Sherlock took a good look at the state of Phoenix's desk and moved on. "You have a complete lack of suspects for the murder, since there are no two documents or pictures here with any real connection to each other. So far, some excellent work Mr. Wright." Sherlock scoffed.

"Wait a-"

"No no, don't speak. With every new word out of your mouth, my opinion of your competence drops substantially." John couldn't help but smile at the remark, but Phoenix sat there for a moment with a very confused look on his face. It didn't take long for Sherlock to continue. "Now, my address is 221B Baker Street. Send me what you have of the case. I'm going to look through it, and I'll investigate the murder." Sherlock had turned away and begun walking back toward the door, John trailing behind him, when he called out to Phoenix again. "After that, you can go back to doing… whatever it is attorneys like you do."

Phoenix was shocked. It took him a few minutes to fully process what had just happened, and by the time it struck him, Sherlock had already left. Maya was standing in front of him now, furious.

"How could he come in here without even a notice, and say THAT?" "Who does this man think he is?"

By now Phoenix had regained his senses, and was a bit irritated himself. Irritated, but very curious. "Hmm, I don't know. Did he give a name?"

"No, he didn't! He walked right in without giving one!"

Phoenix thought for a moment, but he didn't recognize the man. He knew the man had an authority about him and seemed extremely condescending, so perhaps he did police or detective work. He certainly took an interest to this case… There must be something that I'm missing here.

"Well I'm not sure. He's probably a detective of some sort though, judging from how interested he was in seeing my case," Phoenix concluded. "That reminds me, we'd better get down to the courtroom for the second day of this trial!"

Maya turned worried at this sudden enthusiasm from Phoenix. "Phoenix… do you even know what you're going to say?"

"Not really, no. But I'm really good at making it up as I go along!" He gave Maya a big smile, which only increased her concern. Phoenix didn't give her any time to respond however, as it only took him a moment to transform his mess of papers into one stack, which he placed in his briefcase. "Let's go!" he shouted, already heading for the door.

Even before the judge's gavel first came down, Sherlock realized this was going to be an extremely dull trial. The entire courtroom seemed to be in slow motion for the proceedings, and there weren't many intelligent faces in the crowd. Sherlock passed the time by analyzing each person on the jury and in the audience. So boring, Sherlock thought. We'd solve this case so much quicker with just a short investigation.

The defense attorney didn't seem to have done much investigating himself, since most of what he said directly contradicted common sense.

"THAT'S FALSE!"

The whole courtroom, with the exception of Sherlock, turned to hear what Phoenix had to say.

"And why is the witness's story false Mr. Wright?" the judge asked.

"Because… it just doesn't add up! He says that he saw the victim, who he describes as a woman around age 30, dead only hours after the incident. The victim wasn't 30 years old at the time! She was 35!"

After this remark Sherlock lost all hope. "John, perhaps we should look into another case. This man is a true imbecile." Even John couldn't help but agree.

The judge responded logically, but the damage was already done. "Mr. Wright… I believe the witness was being polite. The victim's appearance and her actual age may not be exactly the same..."

With this, Phoenix sat back down out of embarrassment. Oh yeah… I should've thought of that…

The rest of the trial proved to be just as boring and unhelpful to Phoenix and Sherlock in solving the case as the first day was, and so both left the courtroom with the same conclusion: British court cases really are dull.

As much as it frustrated Phoenix, he knew that his defense was going nowhere. His defendant knew the victim personally, so it was difficult to explain to the jury exactly why he'd been discovered near the body after the murder. Still, Phoenix knew his client was innocent, and was absolutely determined to prove it. As much as I hate to say it… there's definitely something I'm missing.

He knew he'd need time to figure out a proper defense, so he asked the judge to delay the next day of the trial.

The judge took a moment before deciding, but eventually agreed another couple days would be for the best. "Seeing as the defense's counsel has been entirely replaced, I agree that some time may help to clear matters up."

Phoenix was relieved that he had some more time to investigate, but he knew that there were some aspects of the case that just wouldn't line up for him. He and Maya were just about to return to their temporary London office when Sherlock and John approached from behind.

"Excuse me Mr. Wright, but I don't believe I've received your case materials yet."

Maya and Phoenix turned around to see who had spoken, and Maya was furious.

"YOU again? What is it you-"

Phoenix put his hand on Maya's shoulder. "Maya, it's alright." As much as I detest the idea… "We could use some help with this investigation. I'll make sure to have the materials delivered by tonight, but please be patient." Maya was amazed at this sudden shift in Phoenix's attitude, but it didn't surprise Sherlock.

He smiled smugly. Mr. Wright knows he made a complete fool of himself today. Still, at least he isn't quite as egotistical as I imagined he'd be. "Excellent. There's nothing left to discuss then. Have a nice day Mr. Wright." With that, Sherlock called for a cab.

Maya, determined to figure out who this mysterious man was, decided it was time to ask. "Excuse me!" she called to Sherlock before he could get away. "Who exactly are you?" Phoenix didn't try to stop her. It was about time they got a name from the man.

Sherlock turned around just as a taxi pulled up to the curb. John got in right away, but Sherlock waited a moment. Smiling, he answered the question before stepping into the taxi himself. "The name is Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes."