The Smash Police Department sat together around a big quartz rectangular table. These were the top of the force, the best of the best. They had gathered this fine Thursday evening to discuss a depressing matter at hand. After several minutes of silence, and staring back and forth at one another, one of them finally mustered up the courage to speak aloud about the recent turn of events in Smash. He pulled his top hat from his head and, with a sigh, broke the silence of the room.
"As many of you know," Hershel Layton spoke to the room of investigators staring intently at him, "we recently lost the country's most beloved princess, as well as one of its most celebrated heroes of justice. Something needs to be done about it."
"Well, of course something needs to be done about," said a man wearing glasses and black gloves, "these people just got murdered. It doesn't-"
"OBJECTION!"
Phoenix Wright stood up from his seat, two seats down from the mysterious stranger. "I haven't seen you around these offices before. Who are you and what are you doing here?"
The man took off his sunglasses and replied, "Norman Jayden, FBI. I solved that Origami Killer case a couple years back. I happen to know a thing or two about solving murders. Now if you don't mind shutting the hell up and let me speak, how about you just shut the hell up and let me speak." Wright pouted heavily before returning to his seat. With his antagonizer put in his place, Norman Jayden returned to speaking.
"As I was saying, it doesn't matter if they're famous, infamous, rich, poor, or something in between, there's a mystery to solve."
"That makes sense," the man in trenchcoat, fedora, and white inkblob mask growled. "Somebody killed these people. And somebody knows who did it. And somebody else knows they're the one who did it. Somebody knows why. Somebody knows."
"You make a good point, Rorschach," Layton commented, "but it doesn't change the fact they're dead. What are we missing here? It's simple, like the final piece for a puzzle, but it's all a matter of pinning down where that piece fits."
"If it's only one piece left," the crouched man at the opposite end of the table uttered, "then it's obvious where it should fit." Everyone in the room went silent, and stared with awe and intent on that crouched man at the other side of the table.
"It fits into the only place of the puzzle that's missing pieces. And that single puzzle piece is just one piece in a puzzle of thousands of pieces. All linked together, forming a single, coherent whole. Only when all the pieces are put together, do you get the whole picture, and it all makes sense."
"The hell are you babbling about?" Max Payne coughed as he puffed on his cigarette.
"I'm saying," the crouched man murmured, "they were killed as part of a plot. First they die, and then the bat vigilante was murdered inside the crime scene the day afterwards. I deduce he found something the killer didn't want him to know, so they sent an agent out to murder this man so he couldn't analyze his data further."
Everyone in the room was yelling amongst themselves, confused at this statement from this crouched investigator that had left them puzzled and more confused than before.
"Damn it, man," Professor Layton slammed his fist on the quartz table, "your analogies are too complex even for my tastes, just spit out what you're trying to say already!"
The crouched man stood out of his seat and stood up. "I'm saying that we have a conspiracy on our hands."
The investigators were stunned. What did this man just say? A conspiracy? What was he on about? Max Payne broke the silence with the sound of his opening up his non-prescription pain killers.
"I woke up this morning with a headache," he muttered, "and you're only making it worse."
"OBJECTION," Phoenix Wright pointed at Payne, "this man is one of the smartest I've met, he wouldn't make wild accusations like this unless he was right!"
"Are you really so sure about this," Layton looked at the crouched man, who had sat back down, "because a conspiracy sounds a little silly to me."
"If I was wrong about this," the man said, "I would have known that I was wrong."
"Hrmm," Rorschach muttered, "your fallacy gives me migraines. Have had enough of this meeting. Will search for answers by self if I have to." Rorschach left his seat, walked to the window, and shot his grappling gun to the adjacent building to make his exit.
"You're being paranoid," Norman Jayden looked at the crouching man funny, "I've had my fair share of conspiracies but they were pretty obvious when it was a conspiracy. You should relax a little, lay off the sugar perhaps?" The crouched man looked down at his plate of lemon cake and, after some hesitation, took a bite of it, despite the harsh words of the FBI agent. The rest of the table stood up and walked out of the conference room doorway, all except for Layton.
"Are you sure about this? Do you really believe in some... conspiracy of killing?"
"Why wouldn't I? I'm never wrong. I wouldn't be demanding access to the Vault unless it was important."
"The Vault? But that's the database for every citizen in Smash, as well as the historical records of everything past and present on our planet of Smashworld. Also, you didn't ask me for it."
"Oh, you're right about that. Wait, don't play coy with me, you British bastard. But I won't ask. I'll demand."
Layton lightly chuckled, "Yes, yes, I'll hand you the keys. I personally don't believe in this conspiracy business, but if you truly believe in it, I know you will be the one to uncover it. Here is the keycard to get into the attic, which contains the Vault computer systems and monitoring devices used to access the information."
"Thank you, Professor Layton."
"Thank you. And good luck... L."
. . . . .
Bowser paced back and forth in his office. A goomba waddled in, a man in blue bodysuit and shiny red helmet accompanying it.
"Ah," Bowser sighed, "I'm glad you came, old friend."
"It's been many years," Captain Falcon said, "the years haven't been kind on you."
"Yes, it's true. I'm already stressed about having to lead my people, but now my lover and her boyfriend, who was also my best friend whose trust I had betrayed, they are both dead. I worry for my own safety, that someone will come for me next."
"With me working the security detail at the upcoming gala, there's nothing to worry about. Think you'll be alright until then?"
"Perhaps. I've decided not to go to Kong's birthday celebration next week, I'd prefer to get some work done before the gala takes up all my time."
"Well, hope you don't mind if I swing by there if I catch a break from work that day."
"Not a problem. In fact, I'll give you the whole day off that day."
"Thanks, I appreciate it."
Captain Falcon received a call on his cell phone.
"Sorry, Bowser, have to head home very fast. Son got in trouble at school. Being a single parent can be such a pain."
"I hear you, I hear you," Bowser laughed, "I'll talk to you later, Falcon."
"And I'll see you at your gala... Mister President."
TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 4
Three chapters in so far, I've been trying to write something serious after writing my silly little Skyrim fic. Any feedback you guys have would be appreciated.