Chapter 2: A New Direction
Disclaimer: Apollo Justice, Ace Attorney, and all related characters, situations, logos, ect, belong to Capcom. The Original Characters who are portrayed in this fiction are technically intellectual property of Spadework2 and Kongu123.
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"We soon opened the Freedom bar, and Damn, was that place popular. We had old friends coming in, and old enemies. With all our success, we got to become pretty darn rich. Of course, despite our great drinks and friendly atmosphere, that wasn't the reason people came. Our connections with the underworld of L.A. allowed us to serve our customers with something more than a drink... we could give them information. And I'm sure you can guess who was in charge of making sure of their satisfaction...
Your dad sure had his hands full during that time..."
May 2004
Phil measured out the vodka precisely, finally stopping when the mixture reached the brim of the glass. Nodding in satisfaction, he turned around, "Finally! Here is the new and improved Long Island Iced Tea 2.0!"
Damion looked at the drink in skepticism, "2.0? It looks the same as all of your other drinks..."
Phil threw up his arms, "Oi! Shut your pie hole and just drink the damn thing!" Damion rolled his eyes and picked up the drink. After looking at for a moment, then at Phil's expectant form. He gave one final look at the drink and brought it to his mouth, taking in a gulp.
Vlad and Jeremiah watched from nearby tables, and Phil watched as if his life hinged on the outcome of his drink. Damion set down the glass, and swallowed, "It's... not perfect. But it is much better..."
Phil slammed the bar with his gloved hands and then threw them into the air in exultation, "Hallelujah! He didn't spit it out!"
Vlad and Jeremiah clapped sarcastically, while various patrons around the bar looked at the crazy looking bartender. Damion held up his hands in a placating gesture, "Phil, calm down. You're going to scare off our customers..."
Phil shrugged, "They'll get used to it. You guys did..." Damion shook his head, and Vlad and Jeremiah went back to their jobs.
Damion got up and began to walk around the bar, "Phil, I think we should have someone else be the bartender. I already said that I want you to help me manage this place."
The older man snorted, "Ha! You can manage this place by yourself. You don't need any help from me..."
Damion's shoulders slumped, "I've been managing this place for the last couple of months, but I need to be with Thalassa now. I won't have as much time to work. I'm going to have to help take care of him."
Phil shrugged, "Bring the tyke here."
Damion raised his eyebrows, "So he can learn how to mix drinks from you? No..." He entered the bar, and began to rummage through the equipment, "I'm going to keep him uninvolved. Keep him safe."
Phil sighed, "How disappointing that you are going to leave us here to wallow in poverty and despair."
Damion rolled his eyes, "Phil, you're richer than I am. Even if the bar goes under, you'll still have enough to live nicely for the rest of your life."
The bartender shrugged, "Eh, those are just details. If you want to keep your kid outta here... that's probably a good idea."
Damion held up his glass, "To children, may they always bring out the best in us."
Vlad took a tray from the side, "If taking out a corrupt crime boss while grieving over the death of our family isn't your best, I'm kind scared of what your best might be..."
Damion was about to answer when the bell that indicated the door was opening. The two Ex-Gangsters turned their heads. Damion's hair drooped a little, and Phil suddenly looked worried.
The miracle of life is such as it allows women across the world to bear many things: pregnancy, the scorn of other women, the rejection of men, and still act happy and upbeat. For many women, these things had no impact on them whatsoever, or they had the will to deal with it.
Thalassa was not one of those women.
About three months into her pregnancy, Thalassa's moods had started to take a turn for the worst. At first, Damion had been convinced that by being sympathetic and supportive, he could make her calm down. When that didn't work, he began to take longer shifts at the bar. Because of her hindrance in movement, Thalassa was content to rage alone while Damion was at work, then the two could act like a couple when they were together.
However, over the last month, her rages had gotten to the point where she somehow made it to the Freedom bar to throw things at her lover. Damion also made it a point of coming to work with an escape route prepared. He was utterly prepared to swear himself to celibacy if it meant that Thalassa would return to normal.
That was the thought that was going through his mind when Thalassa came storming through the front door of the Freedom bar. Phil glanced in her direction, then quickly began rummaging in the bar, "You best be running for your life." Damion was about to leap over the bar in a grand display of flight when he saw Thalassa's expression.
She looked worried.
Damion calmly walked around the bar, "Thalassa? What are you doing here?"
Thalassa walked over, "We have a problem."
Damion tensed, "What kind of problem? Did somebody try to rob the apartment? Did somebody threaten you? Did..." His expression became worried, "Did something happen to the baby?"
Thalassa's face turned from worried to irritated, "Oh, calm down. There's nothing wrong with the baby. I wouldn't have left home if that were the case..." Her worried expression returned, "I... got word that my father is looking for me, and that he found out where we live."
Damion sighed, "All right. We'll move, then. We have the money to get a fancier place anyway." Thalassa beamed, "Really? Well, I had some ideas-"
Damion held up his hand to forestall her, "How did you get word that your dad found you?"
Thalassa shrugged, "A friend of mine that works for him, came over to talk to me."
The Ex-Gangster considered this for a moment, then nodded, "Regardless, I want you to stay here until we move. That way, they don't know where we are going." Thalassa looked like she was going to protest. Violently. Then, she appeared to think better of it, and without another word, went up to the bar.
Phil appeared with a smile, "Thalassa! What a wonder to see you! What can I get you to drink?"
Thalassa smiled, "Water."
Phil's smile turned to a frown, "Water? That's it?"
Thalassa's smile turned chilly, "Yes. Water. You know what water is, don't you? I'm not in the mood for one of your concoctions, even if it doesn't have alcohol."
Phil's jaw dropped, "B-But I've been practicing! Damion tell her..." He looked at Damion who was shaking his head, and Phil groaned in despair.
Damion turned to his girlfriend, "Thal, I'm going to go to the apartment and get some stuff."
Thal glanced back at the entrance, "No need. I asked Vlad to get my luggage."
Damion's eyebrow shot up, "You knew I was going to ask you to stay here?"
Thal grinned impishly, "Yup. You're awfully predictable, dear."
Damion was going to protest, but thought better of it, "I'll go help Vlad."
Thal smiled, "You do that."
Muttering under his breath about women and luggage, he strode toward the door until Vlad made his way through it. The massive Russian was dragging what appeared to be a large trunk. He was out of breath, and was straining to fit it through the door.
Damion sighed and glared at Thal, who had a "Who me?" expression on her face, before she returned to her water. Phil looked like he was about to cry, and Damion went over to Vlad, "Hold on Vlad, let me give you a hand."
The Russian looked at him in vexation, "This is all your fault, you know."
Damion rolled his eyes, "So you guys keep reminding me..."
Vlad shook his head, "You are lucky we love her like a sister, because in Russia, if a woman acts like that, we rip the baby out..."
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The Local Precinct
"This story begins on the whisper of a breeze... God this is trash..."
The tall detective threw the book on the floor, where it joined the three other he had bought that morning.
'Why the hell did I think that crime novels would be a good idea?'
He shook his head in disgust and got up from his desk, stretching to work out the kinks in his muscles.
His eyes found their way to the case file laying open on his desk, apparently forgotten. At the first glance, nobody could figure out that he had read the case file front to back, and was unable to glean anything from the minimal information. The detective picked up the file and left his office, his destination the giant cubicle room where the patrolmen had their offices.
The detective made his way to the 4th floor of the police complex. His eyes searched the office space until he saw the name plaque he was looking for. Making his way through the chaos, he finally got into the cubicle he was looking for, "Patrolman Gumshoe? You in here?"
Gumshoe turned around saluted, "Sir! What can I do for you, Sir?" The detective handed him the case file, "I want you to look at this thing."
Gumshoe obediently took the case file, gave a couple of the pages a once over, and looked at him in confusion, "Am... am I looking for something in particular, Sir?"
The detective ground his teeth, "I was wondering if you noticed, you know, the complete lack of anything resembling an actual crime investigation? This man was murdered, and all you seemed to remember that it was gang violence."
Gumshoe remained silent for a moment, then, "But, Sir... It was gang violence. We had witnesses..."
The detective threw his arms into the air, "I don't care if it was gang violence! I get handed this case and was told to solve it! You don't provide a description of the murderer! You don't even know what Gang he's from! It could be goldilocks and the three bears for all I know!"
Gumshoe shrugged, "Not much we can do about it. It's a gang, sir. We only have so much power..." The detective looked like he was having an apoplexy, and he looked as if he was going to kill Gumshoe when a voice from behind him said,
"Calm down, Tenma."
Tenma took a deep breath, "You were the detective on that case, Badd." Tenma turned and confronted him, "Why didn't you investigate more? These guys rule the streets, and we're just going to sit here and do nothing?"
Badd sighed, "I know what you mean. But Gumshoe has a point. There isn't much we can do..." Badd seemed lost in thought for a moment, "Gumshoe."
Gumshoe snapped to attention, "Yes, Detective Badd, sir?"
Badd clapped Tenma on the shoulder, "Take the good detective here out for a drink, if you know what I mean."
Gumshoe looked confused for a moment, then understanding lit up his face, "Understood, sir. I'll take care of it right away."
Gumshoe immediately began putting on a worn jacket, and Tenma turned to Badd, "A drink? You think getting drunk will give me an insight into gang violence?"
Badd chuckled, "Trust me. Oh, and order something without alcohol. The bartender is notoriously bad at mixing drinks."
With that, Badd walked off into the chaos. Tenma turned back to Gumshoe, who was saluting again, "Are you ready, Detective Tenma, Sir?"
Tenma smirked reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. He placed it between his lips, "That's Detective Skye to you, Patrolman."
Gumshoe scratched his neck nervously, "Er...Yes, Sir."
Tenma and Gumshoe exited the precinct during the lunch rush, so calling a cab was a bad idea. After discussing it for moment, Gumshoe began walking in the direction of their destination. Tenma remained aloof for a moment, then he turned to Gumshoe, "Is it always like this?"
Gumshoe looked confused, "Sir?"
Tenma removed the cigarette from his mouth and blew smoke into the air before continuing forward, "Investigating Gang Related crime. Having to go to secret informants? Is this why it never gets solved? Don't we have a gang investigation division?"
Gumshoe frowned, "Well, sir, it is always like this. Gang crime is on such a scale that they needed to create a division for it..." Gumshoe's face darkened, "But that division has been focusing on gangs for so long that their methods have become questionable..."
Tenma nodded, "I heard about that shootout at Sunshine Coliseum. You were involved in that, right?"
Gumshoe's face went from angry to sad, "Yeah. I was there. Wish I wasn't..." Tenma didn't pry, and the two continued down the street.
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The Freedom Bar
Phil turned around, bearing a small wine bottle that was marked with a golden label, "Here you go. '34, right here."
Manfred von Karma smirked raising up his glass, "Don't dawdle, I have a trial to get to. The guilty aren't going to convict themselves."
Phil filled the glass and set the bottle on the table, grinning, "Things would be nicer if they would, right?"
Von Karma took a sip of the glass, then smirked in satisfaction, "Truly the best. Where do you get this? I must have the name of your supplier."
Phil shifted uncomfortably, "Well..."
Von Karma nodded and gave a knowing smirk, "Ah, yes. I understand." Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out his checkbook, "I have found that money is a powerful motivator for finding information..."
Phil held his hand up in a halting gesture, "That's not the problem. You see, one of the reasons I get such great wines is that my supplier stays secret." Phil sighed, "One of the continued conditions of our business is that he stays secret. If he found out, he'd stop suppliers, and I'd lose customers."
Von Karma looked annoyed for a moment, then shrugged, "Hmmph! Business is business, I suppose."
Suddenly, Von Karma gripped his shoulder, an expression of pain on his face. Phil put down his work, "Are you all right? Whats wrong?"
Von Karma gripped his shoulder for another moment, then relaxed, muttering, "Damn that doctor. His medication still doesn't work..." Von Karma turned back to Phil, shrugging, "An old injury. It still pains me from time to time."
Satisfied, Phil put the bottle away, and Von Karma put a check on the bar, "Thank you for the glass. You shall have my business as long as you have that wine."
Phil gave him an informal salute, "Absolutely. Good luck at your trial."
Von Karma chuckled, "There is no such thing as luck, Phil. Only evidence." With that, Von Karma made his way to the door.
As Von Karma walked out the door, Gumshoe and Tenma walked in with Tenma shooting a small glare at the man leaving. Gumshoe immediately waved at Phil and made his way to the bar. Tenma absorbed the surroundings of the bar for a moment before following Gumshoe, who excitedly sat down at the bar, "How's it going, pal?"
Phil grinned, "Gumshoe, lovely to see you, as always. Scotch on the rocks, right?"
Gumshoe's grin turned to an expression, "Uh, I suppose just a coke. I can't afford anything fancy..."
Phil laughed, "You're a frequent customer. Have one on me."
Gumshoe's grin returned, "Thanks, pal."
Turning to Tenma, Phil spread his hands in a gesture of welcome, "I'm Phil, your guide to delight and fortune here at the Freedom Bar. What can I get for ya?"
Tenma shrugged while stubbing out the butt of his cigarette on the bar. He raised his eyes to meet Phil, "Got any imported beer?"
Phil's smile slumped a little, "Beer? Who drinks beer?" Phil turned to Gumshoe, "Who is this guy?"
Gumshoe gestured to Tenma, "This is Detective Tenma Skye, pal. He just got transferred to homicides, and then he got handed a case related to the Cadaverini's."
Phil's smile disappeared, "You should have said so earlier, Gumshoe. You'll have to wait for Damion, though. He's upstairs with the missus."
Gumshoe took a swig of his drink, "How is Thal?"
Phil's grin returned, "Well..." His reply was cut short by a loud clattering coming from up the stairs. A couple seconds later, Damion calmly walked down the stairs, saw the others, and joined them at the bar. Phil said nothing, but his grin expressed his question.
With his hurt pride in evidence, Damion sat down, "She didn't want my help unpacking." Phil's grin grew wider, and Damion gave him a withering look.
Tenma leaned forward, "Hmm...I guess I'll take a long island iced tea."
Damion leaned over, "I wouldn't..."
Phil's grin turned into a glare, "What do you mean you wouldn't!"
Damion and Phil leaned toward each other for a moment before Tenma leaned in between them, "Could we get to business, please?"
Damion glanced at him, "Who are you?"
Tenma haltingly held out his hand, "Tenma Skye. I'm a detective at the local precinct."
Damion's eyebrow shot up, then he shook Tenma's hand, "Damion. What do you want?"
Tenma looked uncomfortable for a moment, then turned back to the bar, "I need some information concerning a murder that occurred a couple of months ago."
Damion chuckled, "I doubt I'll be much help. Cold cases are cold for a reason, usually."
Tenma chuckled, "Huh. Somehow I knew it would end up that way."
Damion stared at him for a moment, then sighed, "Tell me what happened."
Tenma chuckled, "All right. Victim was suffocated by a plastic bag tied with duct tape. Victim's name wa-"
Damion shook his head, "You won't solve it."
Tenma's eyebrows furrowed in evident anger, "I'm not even finished!"
Damion chuckled darkly, "I don't need to hear the rest. You're describing one of the many hit men of the Cadaverini's. And the Cadaverini's don't have any hit men that aren't careful enough to clean up their own mess."
Tenma stared at him for a moment, then laughed and shook his head, "This was a waste of time. I'll solve this case without your help." With that, Tenma got up and headed towards the door.
Gumshoe turned around and headed after him, "Detective Skye, wait!"
Tenma turned as he strode out the door, "I have to leave anyway Gumshoe, I have to go pick up my daughter from school..." After placing another cigarette in his mouth, he was gone.
Gumshoe turned back to the two Ex-Gangsters, "You really don't think the case will be solved?"
Damion's eyes went hard, "Maybe Gant could. But you guys can't."
Gumshoe sighed sadly, "All right. Thanks for the drink, pal." Then he moved to follow his superior, and was gone.
Phil smiled sadly, "That went well."
Damion sighed, "I feel like that Detective is going to run into a host of problems."
Phil shrugged, "Nothing we can do about it. Now then, about that comment..."
Damion grinned, "I said it was getting better. That doesn't mean you should try selling it to people yet. If you ask me, he had a lucky escape."
Phil pouted, "Hmph. I'll get back to work."
Damion glanced in the general direction of the upstairs, "Hey, Phil... how much do you like your couch?"
Phil paused in working with the machines at the bar, "It's comfortable enough..." He then raised a questioning eyebrow at the nervous, grinning face of Damion. "Why?" he asked in a worried tone.
Damion glanced away uncomfortably, "Well, it looks like that's where you're going to be sleeping for a while."
Phil glared at Damion, his eyes narrowing behind his sunglasses, "Why? What did you do to my bed?"
Damion shifted in his seat uncomfortably, "Well, Thalassa was moving all of her stuff into your room. I tried to have her move into that guest room, but she said something about your bed being better." Phil's glare didn't relent, and Damion continued, "Well, when I told her she didn't have a choice, and that was your room... she kind of threw up on it." Phil stood there for a moment, then purposefully buried his face in his hands. Damion stared at him wide eyed, "Phil? Are you all right?"
Phil looked up at him accusingly, "That bed was the best memory foam on the planet. Do you know how much that bed cost?"
Damion shrunk visibly, "I'm sorry Phil..."
Phil stood up straighter, pointing at Damion like a harbinger of doom, "This is all your fault, you know..."
Damion nodded glumly, "I know, Phil. I accept all responsibility for the fact that women go crazy when they are pregnant."
Phil's glare remained accusatory, but he went back to his work, "You're lucky we love her like a sister."
Damion nodded again, praying fervently that the next month would pass quickly so that he could meet his son, and that Thalassa would return to normal.
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Streets of L.A.
Night time descended on the City of Angels, breeding darkness in the places where those who wished to run away could hide. One man, however, walked the streets with a determined stride in the darkness. Normally, the various cut purses and cutthroats watching the streets would have eaten this man for breakfast. However, something in his stance, his stride, his very essence, made them hesitate, and ultimately leave him alone.
The man visibly checked his watch and stopped outside a building. The kind of building you would walk by and not look twice at. Or even once at. Of course, the people who looked at it more than once usually get followed and killed, so nobody was stupid to even consider what would happen if they actually stopped in front of it.
It was no surprise that after the man stopped, two men in black suits came out, grabbed the man forcibly by the arms and dragged him inside. The interior of the building was remarkably well built, despite it's run down exterior. The two thugs dragged the younger man in between themselves, toward another man in a black suit with a gold pin.
The older man looked the young man up and down, "You look familiar. Did I kill someone you know?"
The younger man grinned, revealing very white teeth, "That's what I'm here to find out."
The older thug shrugged, "Hmph. Whats your name, kid?"
The young man drew himself up, "Diego Armando."
The thug's eyes widened, "Josef's boy?"
Diego nodded, "Yeah. And I want to know who killed him."
The thug considered it for a moment, then nodded, "All right. Let's go see the boss." As soon as he said those words, the two thugs holding Diego increased their grip and forced him up the stairs. The older thug looked back as he walked up, "How did you find us?"
Diego grinned again, "You guys order prostitutes, and you don't think anybody notices?" The older thug grimaced for a moment, then shrugged, urging the other men to go faster.
Soon, they reached what was evidently the top floor. The older thug knocked on the only door, and was admitted inside. After a minute or so, the Man returned, gesturing to Diego, "Inside. Now."
Diego complied, closing the door behind him. He turned around to confront the boss of the Cadaverini's.
Bruto Cadaverini was not an attractive man. He had many moles, and looked prematurely old. Despite this, he had the presence of command, and pain. He studied Diego for a moment, "So, you're Josef's boy. Good man. Did what he was told. I'm sad to see him gone."
Diego snorted, "I'm sure. But I'm not here for your condolences..."
The Thug stepped forward angrily, but Bruto held out his hand, "Calm down, Dmitri. He's just pissed..." Bruto sat back, and gestured at a nearby table, "What you need to know is right there. I've actually been expecting you."
Dmitri recoiled in surprise, "We have?"
Bruto chuckled, "Of course. I figured you were your fathers son. So I obtained the polices reports on the investigation."
Diego walked over to the table, picked up the folder, and began to read, "The investigation didn't go anywhere. The bullets were not registered to any handgun on file, and the killer didn't leave any other evidence."
Bruto nodded, "All true. However," Bruto grinned, "The gun in question did register with us. And that same gun showed up under a different number on public record. It's in the second file." Diego looked down and noticed another file that had been under the first. He set down the police report and picked it up. Bruto's grin went from friendly to malicious, "The person who owns that gun is your fathers murderer. Now you can find this person and avenge your fathers death."
Diego paused while picking up the file, then opened it. His hands shook with anticipation, the hard work of the last year finally paying off. Diego read the file twice, then looked at Bruto,
"Who the hell is this Damion guy?"
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Random Kristoph Story: Kristoph the Game Night Master
Kristoph: "Bored Apollo?"
Apollo: "A little, sir."
Kristoph: "...How about we play a game?"
Apollo: "What kind of game?"
Kristoph: "What do you have in mind?"
Apollo: "Er...How about operation?"
Kristoph: "A fine choice. You sharpen the scalpel, I'll grab a hobo off the street."
Apollo: "..."
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Authors Notes:
The plot deepens. Again. Sorry for the long wait. My uncle is moving in with us, so we had a lot of stuff to deal with. Hope you enjoy, and please leave a review.
Hating lack of internet,
~Kongu123
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Diego Armando. Did you really think we'd leave him out? And Skye huh? Interesting isn't it?
Fighting the good fight,
~Spadework2