~ September 7, 2:42 PM ~ White & Co. Law Offices ~
Phoenix Wright, Adept Attorney, paced around what had become his law offices. The police, having finished their investigation, had packed up and left. He was on his own.
Sinking into his usual spot on the office sofa, Phoenix pondered what to do next. A man had checked in with Franziska von Karma, and Phoenix had a pretty good guess as to who it was: Manfred von Karma, the man April had mentioned. However, without any proof, he might well be heading off a wild goose chase.
It was time to talk to the person who had seen the mystery man: The hotel bellboy.
Phoenix left his office and walked next door, to the Gatewater Hotel.
When Phoenix walked into Franziska's hotel room, the bellboy was there, touching up the room. His tea set, with a tiny heater between teapot and tray, sat on the sideboard.
"Ah, welcome, sir!" the bellboy said, straightening up. "Quite the performance today, if I dare say so myself."
"Oh, um, thanks," Phoenix replied. "Sorry for putting you on the spot like that."
"No, no, not at all!" the bellboy replied. "It'll make a perfect moment of drama in the re-enactment. Your efforts today can only help the Gatewater's reputation, sir!"
"...huh? 'Re-enactment'?" Phoenix said.
The bellboy spread both arms wide, as if his idea was obvious. "Our reputation will swell as the hotel where the murderer used a wiretap! We can charge a premium for the room, of course; for a slight extra fee, we will gladly re-enact the scene and the trial for your personal enjoyment, sir!"
"Hang on!" Phoenix said. "Ms. von Karma hasn't been charged with murder! Only wiretapping."
The bellboy didn't appear to hear Phoenix. "I, too, will become famous. 'The bellboy who brought the murderer spiced coffee'...! 'The bellboy who was put on the spot by the defense attorney'...!"
Phoenix's face was a picture.
"So!" the bellboy concluded, picking up his tray and balancing it on one hand. "You are our honored guest. Please let me know if there is anything I can bring you!"
Phoenix looked around the room. It looked the same as yesterday. Oddly, the screwdriver, bottle and glasses were still in their places. Perhaps the bellboy hadn't got around to clearing them up.
"Actually, I wanted to ask you about the man who was with Ms. von Karma."
The bellboy nodded. "Ah, yes... he struck me as a real 'lady-killer', if you'll pardon the expression. I knew it from the moment I saw him, sir!"
Phoenix snuck a glance at the photo of Manfred von Karma in his pocket. The man had white hair and a ferocious glare. Resisting the urge to comment on the bellboy's observation, Wright instead pulled out the photo and showed it to him. The bellboy nodded. His tray began to rattle in his excitement. "That's him!" he said. "When I first saw him, I knew, sir. He and I are of the same ilk. We both carry the scent of... danger."
Phoenix decided not to mention that 'the man with the scent of danger' might have been the killer. What if the bellboy decided to re-enact the murder here and now with his teapot?
"In any case, sir," the bellboy said, "that is the man who checked in with Ms. Franziska von Karma. I could write an affidavit swearing that that's him, sir!"
"An affidavit?" Phoenix said, thinking. It probably wouldn't be admissible as evidence, but who knew? It could have some use. "Sure, why not."
"Yes!" the bellboy said. "I've always wanted to write an affidavit, sir. From henceforth, I will be known as 'the bellboy who swore out the affidavit'...!" Phoenix kept his mouth shut while the bellboy wrote on some Gatewater Hotel notepaper. Finally, as the bellboy handed it to him, he said, "Thanks for this."
"No no no, not at all, sir!" the bellboy said. "Anything to convey the proper ambiance! Perhaps next, you'd like to look at 'The Scene of Murder'?" He gestured at the window. "You're very lucky, to see it for free, sir! We plan to install a pay telescope in that window, of course."
"What—" Phoenix said.
"Just 5 dollars will earn you three minutes of 'a view to a kill'!" the bellboy said. His tea set was rattling with a vengeance. "...sir."
Phoenix grabbed the affidavit and fled, making a large mental note to get one-way glass installed in the office's window.
Back in the law office, Phoenix considered his next move. Manfred von Karma had checked in with Franziska, and most likely, he was the killer. It was time to find out all he could about Manfred von Karma...
Phoenix's gaze swung to the shelves of law books and files lining the back wall.
...starting with Redd White's own records.
~ 20 Minutes Later ~
Phoenix Wright was surrounded by files. His first impulse had been to look in the 'V' and 'K' section of Redd's archives; to his dismay, however, both sections had been missing! That was when he'd just started searching from A to Z.
Now, Phoenix had a small pile of records in front of him. The F section had suffered the same fate as the K and V files, and was nowhere to be found. Most of the folders he had found belonged to the section 'S'... for 'Suicide'.
"Suicide? Eww..." Phoenix muttered, as he browsed the folders. He wasn't seeing too much of a pattern yet, though many of the people who had killed themselves were prominent figures. Politicians... police officers... the occasional celebrity... Then, Phoenix noticed the thing that tied all the reports together. Written on each file, in Redd White's square hand, were the words 'M von Karma'.
So that was it. Whatever it was Manfred von Karma had done, Redd had been sure he was involved in all of these deaths. It was time for Phoenix to charge out there and get some answers. But, where to go?
Confronting Manfred von Karma, when he didn't even know much about him, seemed out. That left either Franziska von Karma, or Marvin Grossberg.
Phoenix decided to go to Grossberg's office. He'd probably be able to get more answers out of him.
When Phoenix entered Grossberg's offices this time, something caught his eye immediately. The rich furnishings and decor were as sumptuous as ever, but the huge painting on the wall— the one Grossberg had said was worth millions— had vanished, leaving a large blank spot.
As Phoenix stared at the space, a familiar clearing-of-the-throat sounded right behind him.
"Ah-HHHHEM!"
Phoenix spun round, wondering how Grossberg had come up behind him so silently.
"Ah hah! You again!" Grossberg said.
Phoenix nodded. "Um, hello, Mr. Grossberg."
Grossberg smiled at Phoenix. "Well, well. You were quite the thing, my boy," he said.
"Er...?" Phoenix said, not entirely sure what he was referring to.
"The trial! The trial!" Grossberg explained. "Reminded me of myself when I was a young lad! It brings back memories, it does! 'Ah... the days of my youth..."
"Mr. Grossberg—" Phoenix said.
"...like the scent of fresh lemon, you see,'" Grossberg finished.
"Mr. Grossberg," Phoenix said, before Grossberg could ramble on further, "I apologize for being so abrupt, but I just wanted to ask you... about several things."
"Yes, m'boy?" Grossberg said. "I'm sorry if I seem scattered. Something was bothering me all last night, you see. I couldn't get a wink of sleep."
"Really? What was that?"
"Well, you see, it's just... Miss May... that poor girl." Grossberg looked at Phoenix. "My boy, I owe you my thanks, truly," he said. "I don't know what I would have done if things had gone poorly for her."
"Mr. Grossberg?" Phoenix said. "I know I asked before, but since you've touched on it... why did you refuse Miss May's request for a defense? I think I have a right to know."
"A right, Mr. Wright?" Grossberg said. "No, no, I'm sorry. It's just... I need more time to think, my boy."
Something was obviously eating at Mr. Grossberg. Phoenix decided to ask about what he came for, instead. He brought out the photo of Manfred von Karma.
"Mr. Grossberg— I came because I wanted to ask you. I believe this man may have been in the hotel room with Franziska von Karma on the night of the murder."
"Sssh! Not so loud...!" Grossberg said, instinctively flinching. After a pause, he went on. "I... I beg your pardon, but I must ask you to leave."
"But Mr Grossberg—" Phoenix said.
"Immediately," Grossberg said, putting one arm around Phoenix's shoulders and shepherding him to the door.
In desperation, Phoenix asked, "Can you at least tell me what happened to that painting of yours?"
Grossberg paused, and a pained expression came on his face. Just as Phoenix thought he wouldn't answer, he finally said,
"...I, er, sold it, you see. And now, my boy, you need to—"
"Wait!" Phoenix said. "I thought you said it was worth millions!"
"I... well... I got quite tired of the thing, and so... out it went."
"But Mr. Grossberg—"
The next thing Phoenix saw was Grossberg depositing him neatly outside his office door, which slammed in Phoenix's face. What on earth was going on?
With Phoenix unable to get any answers out of Marvin Grossberg, he decided to head to the Detention Center and see if Franziska von Karma would grant him any instead.
When Franziska walked into the visitor's room, Phoenix could tell it wasn't likely. The police had taken her whip, but Franziska's default, stern expression was still on her face. She glared at Phoenix. "State your business," she said.
"Um, Ms. von Karma, I was wondering. About the man who stayed with you in your hotel room..." Phoenix opened, "could you tell me about him?"
Franziska glared at Phoenix. A gold chain from a necklace was barely visible around her neck, Phoenix noticed. Finally, she said, "No."
Time to prove his questions... with EVIDENCE!
Phoenix whipped out the photo of Manfred von Karma, along with the bellboy's affidavit. "All right," he said, "I'll tell you about him, then!"
Franziska blinked at the sight of the evidence against her, but her sour mood soon reasserted itself. "Why did you want me to tell you anything, if you already know it all?" she asked.
Phoenix was torn. Should he admit that he didn't know everything, or just press on as if he did? He chose the second.
"Ms. von Karma," he said, "I know that Manfred von Karma checked in with you. And he wasn't in the hotel room at the time of the murder. Moreover, I know that Redd White was suspicious of Mr. Von Karma's involvement in—" he slowed. Best not to let Franziska know TOO much, "—several other incidents. You must tell me what you know!"
Franziska von Karma was silent for a moment. Then, quietly, she began to laugh. Resting her chin on one hand, she waved her finger at Wright.
"You are nothing but a spiky-headed fool, Lawyer," she said, smirking. "You do not know anything."
"Wait!" Phoenix said. "What do you mean, I don't know anything?"
"Leave, now," Franziska von Karma said, "before I ask the guards for my whip back."
Phoenix left. It was obvious that he wasn't going to get anywhere with her.
He was out of leads. There was only one thing to do: Confront Manfred von Karma, directly!
~ September 7 ~ Karma Services Inc. ~
...but Manfred von Karma wasn't there.
Phoenix had been able to find that Manfred von Karma ran a company, going by the name of Karma Services Inc., with a simple web search. Now, he was waiting in Manfred von Karma's office, at the very top of the Karma Services building.
The room was utilitarian, but imperious nonetheless. Large windows provided a view of the city. A plain, light-colored wooden desk sat in the center of the room, with a huge, high-backed chair behind it and two plain chairs in front. Filing cabinets lined the side walls, which were bare— with one exception. Hanging directly over Manfred von Karma's chair was the huge painting, of a man and a sea and a sky, that Phoenix had seen in Grossberg's office.
Phoenix waited for some time, but Manfred von Karma didn't appear. The receptionist had said he was out on 'business'.
After several minutes cooling his heels, Phoenix got up and left. Waiting here probably wouldn't help him any, and he had some questions for Marvin Grossberg about that million-dollar portrait...!
Phoenix entered the Grossberg Law Offices to find Marvin Grossberg staring off into the distance. Phoenix tried to think of something to say to get Grossberg's attention, but then a terrible idea came to him. It was too good to resist.
Moving silently on the plush carpet, Phoenix crept up behind Grossberg, took a deep breath, and cleared his throat dramatically.
"Aaa-HHHEM!"
Grossberg jumped like a drenched cat. "Jumping Jehosephats!" he said, turning. "Oh. It's only you, my boy."
"What's wrong?" said Phoenix. "You looked so pensive... like an old man at the end of his days." It was a bit of a harsh comparison, but it was the first one that had come to mind.
"Hmm?" said Grossberg. "I'm not senile yet! I was just thinking about this whole mess..." He sank into a chair.
Phoenix sat down as well. "Mr. Grossberg, I have to admit... something's been bothering me."
Grossberg raised one eyebrow. "Oh? What is it? Well, out with it, my boy!"
"Mr. Grossberg, that painting you said you got rid of," Phoenix said, "I just saw it again recently. It was hanging in the office of Manfred von Karma, head of Karma Services Inc."
Grossberg mumbled something to himself.
"Please, sir," Phoenix said, "you're the only one who can help me find the truth now. I'm out of other options. Please tell me what's going on..."
Marvin Grossberg laid one beefy arm around Phoenix's shoulder, saying, "I'm sorry, m'boy, but there really is nothing I can do." Slowly, he walked Phoenix to a door on the far side of his office, and opened it, revealing a small balcony. Grossberg made sure both were outside and the door was firmly closed before saying anything else.
"Very well. I'll tell you what I know," Grossberg said. "I'm sorry for the brusque turndown, but it... isn't always safe to talk in one's office these days."
Phoenix flashed upon Franziska's wiretap.
"The man in the photo, as you know, is known as Manfred von Karma," Grossberg explained. "He is the head of Karma Services Inc., which serves one single purpose: selling information. Sensitive, private information. Von Karma has one of the blackest reputations in the country."
"Wait, so you mean..." Phoenix said.
"Manfred von Karma makes his living through intimidation," Grossberg said. "He sets his company to find 'dirt' on someone powerful, by any means. Then, he blackmails them into acquiescence."
"Wait, so that painting..." Phoenix said. Then it hit him. Manfred von Karma must have been blackmailing Grossberg! But why?
A thought occurred to Phoenix, one that came from nowhere. Maybe... Grossberg and von Karma... were in some kind of relationship? It couldn't be. But the more Phoenix thought about it, the more the possibility seemed to make a crazy kind of sense.
Wright tried to pick what to say. 'He's blackmailing you!' was one possibility. 'You were lovers!' an inner voice suggested. Finally, Phoenix blurted out, "He's blackmailing you because you're lovers!"
Grossberg looked at Phoenix for several seconds, a dumbfounded expression on his face.
"Er... well, he's blackmailing you, anyway." Phoenix hastily amended. "Right?"
Grossberg nodded, sadly. "Ever since the DL-6 Incident... I've been paying Karma Services for 15 years now."
DL-6? The case April had told Phoenix about?
Grossberg continued, "I could not stand in April's defense because of this; von Karma would have destroyed me if I did."
"Wait," said Phoenix, "what's so explosive that von Karma's been holding it over you for 15 years?"
Grossberg sighed, loudly. "It was 15 years ago, now... I received a request from a medium. A spirit medium. Her name was Misty Fey."
From what April had told him, Phoenix had a good idea what was about to happen: the case where the police had used supernatural assistance.
"She was investigating a murder at the bequest of the police," Grossberg explained, "and... she failed. As a result, the police called her a fraud."
This matched what Phoenix had heard.
"She came to me, and hired me as her lawyer. I did all I could for her, and in the end, cleared her of wrongdoing. But... the case was never solved, and the sad tale wasn't over." Grossberg took a breath. "The DL-6 incident was top-secret at the time. The police didn't want to risk embarrassment by letting people know that they were using a medium... but one person found out." Grossberg shut his eyes, as though trying to keep something in... or out. "I told him."
Phoenix took it all in, then realized what Grossberg had said. "Wait— you told Manfred von Karma about DL-6?"
Grossberg nodded. "He offered me riches..." he said. "I know it was a great mistake, now. Because I talked, the police were mocked far and wide. In secret, they began looking for the one who sold them out. And then Manfred von Karma heard, and came to me again... but he was not as friendly. And this time, his 'offer' was blackmail."
Grossberg, the confident lawyer, was slumping in defeat. Phoenix looked at him for a moment, then finally said, "I see. Well, I'll prove he was Redd's killer... somehow."
Grossberg looked at Phoenix from over the top of his glasses. "It is hard for me to tell you this, my boy," he said, "but arresting Manfred von Karma will be nigh-on impossible."
"Impossible? Why?" Wright said.
"He has information on everyone," Grossberg explained. "It gives him an iron grip! He owns politicians, prosecutors, police, attorneys... and judges."
"Wait, you don't mean—"
Grossberg nodded. "Von Karma controls the law of this country as he sees fit, yet, if you would still challenge him..." He looked Phoenix right in the eyes. "You have my truest best wishes and sympathies."
"Good luck, Mr. Wright," he finished. Then, he quietly opened the door so Phoenix could leave the balcony.
Back at his own law offices, Phoenix took inventory. He had a bellboy's testimony which wasn't likely worth much of anything, an explanation from Grossberg that cleared things up, but was inadmissible as evidence, and no help from Franziska von Karma at all. The newspaper clipping in his pocket, though, was something he could use.
From Phoenix's point of view, there was only one option left for him now: pursuing his investigation to its logical conclusion. It was probably foolhardy, but it was time.
Time to confront Manfred von Karma, in person, once and for all!
When Phoenix arrived at Karma Services this time, the receptionist showed him right in. Manfred von Karma sat in his high-backed chair, ignoring Phoenix completely.
As Wright approached, though, his gaze snapped upon Phoenix, with the intensity of a ring of fire.
"You will state your business with me. Now!"
He wielded his words like Franziska used her whip. Phoenix fought hard to avoid instinctively stepping back— and lost. He decided to try an indirect approach.
"I wanted to ask you about... Franziska von Karma."
Manfred von Karma snorted. "I heard of my daughter's misadventure. She has disgraced the name of von Karma!"
"Er... I'm sorry?" Phoenix asked.
"A von Karma is perfect in every situation," Manfred von Karma said. "Franziska has become less than perfect."
"Wait, you mean because she planted the wiretap? She says you asked her to," Phoenix said. This was a bluff, but Phoenix was pretty sure Manfred von Karma was behind Franziska's actions.
"You're lying," said von Karma. "My daughter would not presume to sully her former perfection any farther. In any case, it does not matter that she placed the wiretap; her disgrace is that she was caught!"
Phoenix resolved not to comment on the von Karmas' system of morals. Instead, he said, "And you claim you had nothing to do with the matter."
Von Karma glared at Wright. "Who are you, to ask this of me?"
"Er—" Phoenix said.
"I am Manfred von Karma! I run a reputable company. I am not involved in your pathetic murder mystery, and I do not parley with fools and lawyers!" von Karma looked upon Phoenix, contemptuously. "You may go."
"You say you're not involved, huh?" Phoenix said, pulling out the bellboy's affidavit. "How about this!"
Von Karma stared at the paper. "What is that document supposed to be?" he asked. "All I see are the scribblings of an overexcitable bellboy."
Phoenix smiled. "That 'overexcitable bellboy' saw you check in with Franziska von Karma. But you weren't in the room when the murder took place."
"So?" von Karma asked.
"And the reason that you weren't in the hotel room was because you were in the White and Co. Law Offices, and you were there to murder Redd White!"
Von Karma looked at Phoenix for a long, silent moment. Then, he smiled, baring his teeth. "*hmph*" he said to himself. To Wright, he said, quietly, "Tell me, Mr. Wrong, what reason would I have to murder a lawyer who I know nothing of?"
It was time for Phoenix's second— and most critical— piece of evidence. Pulling out the clipping, he shoved it at Manfred von Karma. "Mr. von Karma, do you see this? It's an article describing the suicide of a politician."
Manfred von Karma said nothing.
"He was embezzling secret government funds," Phoenix explained, "Until, one day, word got leaked to the press. The very next day he took his own life."
Wright took a deep breath. "Mr. von Karma, I found this article in Redd White's office, in a file filled with countless others. Every one of them was labeled with the same two words... 'von Karma.'"
Manfred von Karma began to say something, but Phoenix cut him off.
"Mr. von Karma, you were blackmailing this politician!"
"Blackmail?" Manfred von Karma growled. He looked ready to leap across the table and throttle Wright, but Phoenix stood his ground.
"Not just him, either. You were threatening and coercing hundreds of others! You were involved in all of the suicide cases Redd White investigated. But it wasn't enough."
This was it. Phoenix was on the same streak he could reach in the courtroom; he knew, because he felt as though he was flying. "It wasn't enough, because Redd White was closing in on you. Somehow— and I think I know how— you found out that he was about to send your empire of misery crashing down. And so, you had to kill him. You and your daughter set up a plot to kill Redd White, in order to preserve the twisted edifice you had created!"
Manfred von Karma looked at Phoenix for a moment. Then, he said, "What do you think your purpose is in the murder trial of Redd White?"
"Well," said Phoenix, "it's to defend—"
"Wrong," von Karma said. "There is only one thing you will do here. You will be arrested, and be found 'guilty'. That is your role!"
"Wait, what do you mean by—" Phoenix said, but Manfred von Karma was no longer paying attention to him. Instead, he had lifted up his office phone.
"Call the prosecutor's office," he growled into it.
There was a short delay, then a voice came through the phone.
"von Karma? That you? What are you doing calling me at a time like this?" said the voice.
"Chief Prosecutor?" Manfred von Karma said, into the phone. "I will testify tomorrow."
"What's this about?" asked the Prosecutor.
"I will testify as a witness in the murder trial of Redd White."
"What?" the Prosecutor said. "Why now? I thought you said you didn't want to go to court?"
"I have changed my mind. You will arrange it. Now!" von Karma paused, then said, "Also: Send the police here, immediately."
"What? What for?" said the Prosecutor, clearly confused.
Manfred von Karma grinned cruelly at Phoenix, before turning his attention back to the phone. "Because, Prosecutor," he said, "Standing before me, in my office, is the man who murdered Redd White!"
And that was that. Phoenix was arrested on the spot.
To Be Continued