Chapter 6
The court was already settled and still before the judge banged his gavel quickly, all parties evidently enthused to proceed. Excluding, of course, Frederick, who stood, frustrated, with his eyes shut, fuming internally. "The trial of Sir Robin of Ylisse will now reconvene," introduced the judge, "Sir Frederick, I believe I speak for the whole of this courtroom when I ask: what were the results of the examination of Lord Perceval's corpse?"
"Sir Robin was… correct," the Knight Captain gritted his teeth, "The man on the floor of the castle… was not Lord Perceval."
A wave of excited and agitated conversation spread throughout the courtroom. The judge banged the gavel several times more and called for order.
"As I thought," Robin assented confidently.
"I guess that means you're in the clear, father," Morgan smiled to her father joyously.
"Not so fast," Frederick indicated the girl, "We still don't know who killed the young man who took Lord Perceval's place."
"But this is a trial to determine my father's guilt in the murder of Lord Perceval. If he isn't there to be dead, then you have no case," Morgan argued back.
Frederick shook his head, "It doesn't matter. There's only one prime suspect in that young thief's murder, and it persists to be your father. The crime, charges, and evidence remain the same, only the victim has changed."
"Does that mean the prosecution…?" the judge hesitated.
"Does not recant its accusation, Your Honor, barring the name of the victim, of course," Frederick nodded.
"So that's how it stands…" Robin frowned, trying to glean something from the knight, but not arriving at any result.
The judge nodded gravely, "Right, then. But, where do we go from here?"
"The prosecution needs not say another word," Frederick relaxed slightly, "As of yet, the defense has failed to prove anything that would result in their being proclaimed innocent."
"But the presence of this thief in place of our perceived victim is quite the confounding variable, wouldn't you say, Sir Frederick?" Robin provided.
Frederick remained neutral, "What you say, you must prove, Sir Robin. That is my only reply."
"I see," Robin detected the knight's tone of voice, "then allow me to begin proving." Robin eased himself forward over his desk, drawing in a deep breath, "It's been quite a trial, so let's see if I can quickly recap the crime. In the late evening, Sully stood on guard duty, among a few other knights in the castle. Strangely, only she claims to have heard 'Lord Perceval' walking by, followed by a crash of some sort. When she followed the sound, she arrived in time to see me standing over the body of 'Lord Perceval,' but was promptly knocked unconscious. During this time, however, a few mysteries remain, as the lock to the armory door was broken, and a curious, bloodied Plegian arrow was slipped into the quiver of a murdered Ylissean guard. The prosecution asserts that this arrow was the murder weapon, and the defense is inclined to agree."
Frederick nodded silently, "That all is accurate to my recollection."
"Let's begin addressing those mysteries, then," Robin continued, "Firstly, we are aware that the 'Lord Perceval' who was found dead in the castle that morning was not, in fact, the man who bears that name, but a young thief, so indicated by the tattoo on his forearm. This means that the two must have been switched out at some point in time."
"But what point might that be?" Frederick folded his arms.
"I'll get there," Robin nodded, "Now, we know that in that locked armory are the clothes of the real Lord Perceval."
"We don't know that, actually," Frederick cut him off, "The lock is, as you said, broken, therefore, it is impossible to enter the armory to determine what is inside."
Robin nodded once more, "Interesting. Consider that, too, then. There exists the possibility that that door had its lock intentionally broken."
"Avoid speculation for now, will you, Sir Robin?" begged the knight with a touch of irritation.
"Very well," he settled himself, "We know that a young Ylissean guard was murdered on the same floor, intended to be guarding the armory, and that a Plegian arrow was found, bloodied, resting in his quiver, as if it had been hidden, albeit very poorly. This, too, was a very conspicuous mistake."
"True," Frederick rested a hand on his desk, "but what are you getting at, Sir Robin?"
"Hold on," Robin asserted once more, "We also don't know the identity of the person who assaulted Sully, as she cannot remember him clearly, though she does recall Lord Perceval on the ground, dead, struck by an arrow. Sir Frederick has also established for the court that this arrow could not have been fired at Lord Perceval, but rather, it was used like a dagger or other such blade. Now, I believe we cannot doubt the existence of a third party."
Frederick jumped on the statement immediately, "You had better have some very convincing evidence to lodge that sort of a claim."
Robin nodded hopefully, "Sully testified she heard only one set of footsteps before she came upon the scene. She believed them to be Lord Perceval's."
"And you reasonably reject that claim in saying that you would have to have been standing at the scene all night for that to be the case, yes," Frederick continued.
This time Robin shook his head, "I didn't say I reject the claim outright. I believe in Sully's hearing, but I feel that it stands as evidence of my innocence."
"Then what are you saying?" the knight perpetuated with genuine interest.
"Sully never got a look at Lord Perceval's face when he walked by, and only heard one set of footsteps as he passed. The next time she saw him, his body was on the ground, apparently dead. She was rendered unconscious, and the next anyone saw of 'Lord Perceval,' we now know it was a stand-in. This leads me to believe the switch between Lord Perceval and his doppelganger occurred before Sully saw Lord Perceval walk by."
"Interesting," Frederick took in, "but I fail to see how this exonerates you from that young man's murder."
"Then listen here," Robin tapped a finger on his forehead, "If the 'Lord Perceval' Sully saw was, in fact, a trained thief, he might have been able to silence his steps."
The Knight Captain struck his desk, "I don't believe that for a second. And even if I did, surely you must see that this works against you, Sir Robin, as it provides a means by which you might have appeared on the scene."
Robin smiled faintly, "I realize that, but it opens up the door for me… or anyone else."
"Now, just a minute…" Frederick began.
"I know, Frederick, I'll get there," Robin assured, "but first, I'd like to provide evidence to the courts of this thief's ability to silence his steps. Something of a surprise witness. Guards, would you please bring the thief Putidus to the stand?" As he called for them, a pair of guards dragged forth the rather scrawny man who had challenged the tactician in one of the bases of operation for the Bull's Horn. He still wore a contentious scowl, but he quivered and lost his composure in the face of Robin. "Now, Putidus," Robin called, "Under the oath to the gods, as well as penalty of imprisonment and possible execution, do you swear to proclaim to us the truth?"
"Yeah, yeah," he shook, irritated, "I already got caught, so just tell me whacha wanna know."
Robin nodded, "Were you personally associated with the victim in this case? An artist's rendering of his face exists, if you need it."
"Naw," declined Putidus, "The guards showed 'im to me before. That's ol' Astutiam, no doubt about it." The thief paused, depressed slightly, "Poor kid didn't really deserve it. I wonder if he ever even saw it commin'."
"Your Honor," Frederick introduced acerbically, "how can we possibly even begin to trust a man such as this?"
"He has no reason to lie," Robin asserted, "he faces no consequences for telling the truth, and has no direct incentive to make any statement."
"Then how was he brought in?" the knight raised an eyebrow.
"Putidus is a… you might call him a disgruntled employee. But there's no reason that makes him untrustworthy," Robin smirked.
"If you have evidence that will lead us to question the reliability of the witness, Sir Frederick," announced the judge, "I should like to see it. Otherwise, however, I would prefer not to tarry." The knight grumbled in the negative.
"And Putidus," Robin continued, "would you be so kind as to demonstrate how a thief might go about silencing his steps?"
"Uh, lessee," the man scratched his neck and strode forward from the stand, making, as expected, no noise. Murmurs moved through the court.
"And tell me, Putidus, is training for this skill standard in your organization?" the tactician smirked.
"Yeah. Ya gotta be able to do it, or the Boss'll never let you go out," he folded his arms.
Robin nodded, "Now, we know this thief, the dead thief wearing Perceval's clothing, was a member of the Bull's Horn and had to have received this training, and therefore, have significant evidence that he was capable of silencing his steps."
"But have you any conclusive proof that he did so that evening?" Frederick leered at his opponent.
"…No," the former tactician sighed, "but what if I were to prove the existence of another person at precisely the time Sully heard Lord Perceval walk by? Then the only logical explanation would be that the thief silenced his steps."
"Oh, for—" the knight scowled, "Very well, if you're so obsessed with that silly theory, out with it, then. How do you intend to prove a third person was present?"
Robin nodded, contented once more, "There was one additional detail your men overlooked in their investigation, Frederick, though this one perhaps more comprehensible: did anyone happen to take a look at our second victim's boots?"
"B-Boots? Why, no," Frederick raised an eyebrow.
"A shame," Robin lowered his head, "because if they had, they would have noticed the rather curious substance liberally applied to them."
The Knight Captain scowled again, "What 'substance' are you talking about?"
Robin produced a bottle, "Procedural Comportment Ailion Kerogen. You can test the substance if you desire, but I performed a test of my own, thanks to an associate of mine. The substance is a sort of oil, used to lubricate footwear, to reduce friction and… you know what I'm going to say, don't you?"
"Silence steps?" the knight grunted, not opening his eyes.
"That's right," Robin smiled, "but we know this guard didn't apply this substance to his own boots, don't we? All the guards' gear is cleaned every day, before their shift, and we know this man was dead before the night was ended, else he would have stopped whoever broke the armory lock."
"That proves nothing," the knight sneered, "it's easily possible this man might have applied the kerogen to his own boots during his shift."
"Is it?" the former tactician smirked, "perhaps we should ask his partner at the end of the hall if he heard his comrade's footsteps that night." The knight made no effort to respond.
"I didn't think Frederick would just concede like that," Morgan observed quietly.
"We already have a signed statement from the other guard that says just that," Robin nodded to his daughter.
"Ah," Morgan clasped her hands together gleefully, "you really think of everything, father!"
That was actually the investigators, but I have no problems taking the credit for this one, Robin chuckled.
"What if our thief slipped those boots onto the guard, or what if you had done it? It might explain away these contradictions," Frederick asserted.
Robin bowed, "A good thought. I had considered those things as well, but you can check, not only are those boots about two sizes too small for me, but people heard me walking around most of the day. You would have to provide a time when I might have so changed my footwear, after this man was dead, which, in truth, really isn't possible. As for the thief, well, why would he need boots that silenced his steps if he could do as much without them? Besides, we know he was on the ground around the time of Sully's testimony, so there was no real window of time he could've gone down to the armory."
"All right," Frederick frowned, "So, there were some boots inexplicably placed on the guard… what does that mean for us?"
"It means there was one more player on this stage," the former tactician touched a finger to his temple.
"I'm almost afraid to ask, but who might that have been?" the knight sighed.
"Based on the evidence I've gathered, there's only one conclusion: the third party in the castle that night, the person responsible for the murder of both that guard and the impostor Lord Perceval can only be a master thief, one able to break a lock at will, able to silence his own approach and have knowledge of substances that can do the same for others… and there's one person I know of who has mastered the technique of the silent approach… after all, he taught it to all of his students," Robin poised himself over his desk.
"No," Frederick shook his head ruefully, "You are not saying…"
"Oh, yes I am," Robin grinned, "the only man who could have performed this crime is the leader of the Bull's Horn himself!"
"And just how do you expect us to believe that incredibly stupid and loosely-based conjecture?" Frederick growled.
"Think about all this a moment, it actually lines up very nicely: a number of colossal, conspicuous mistakes have been revealed to have been made by the criminal, so many that it's almost impossible to believe he got away with his crime… Unless the mistakes were a part of his plan. Now, suppose we have an investigative force who is complicit with this criminal, and doesn't reveal any of these mistakes, save for the ones that point to a certain individual, pinning the crime on him…"
"Are you actually suggesting I was an accomplice in this matter?" Frederick roared.
"And suppose this criminal also has a history of using coercion to get what he wants, as evidenced by a previous trial," Robin continued, leering at the knight, who dropped his head, "what if this person also held a grudge against someone who he knew had a vested interest in seeing him put away? Well, wouldn't this criminal do everything he could to pin the crime on someone else? Tell me, does any of this strike you as familiar, Frederick?"
The knight shook, clenching his fist, "I… This is ridiculous! You don't have a shred of proof of anything! No one even knows what you're babbling about anymore!"
"I've got all the proof I need!" the former tactician railed, "Frederick, what's your reasoning for why you missed all those strange incidences? Why didn't you pick up on the existence of a third person?"
"I don't need to explain myself," he roared, "you do! Give this court one reason to believe what you're spouting is anything other than baseless conjecture! Give me a bloodied knife or confession, why don't you?"
"Will you swear you were never coerced, Frederick?" Robin pressed.
"Not until you substantiate your ludicrous suspicions!" he barked.
"You want me to prove it? Fine, I'll give you just what you've asked for!" Robin shouted so that the entire courtroom practically shook, "Frederick, the dead impostor of Lord Perceval, do you recall his name?"
"Of course," Frederick shook his head, "it was Maury."
Robin smirked. "That's not what the other thief called him," the judge recalled.
"Exactly!" Robin slapped a palm on his desk, "But there was a prisoner released from the prison here in Ylisstol not long before the crime, he provided a fake name to the guards. His real name was Astutiam, as he later admitted, but he told the guards it was 'Maury.'"
"S-So what?" Frederick rebuked.
Robin tapped a finger on his forehead, "So, do you know who has the authority to make unplanned releases like that? Only two people: the exalt and the Chief Authority, in this case, the Knight Captain!"
"Y-You…!" Frederick doubled back.
"I didn't put it together until today, but now the truth is made as clear as day: you released the prisoner who ended up dead disguised as Lord Perceval leading me to be indicted in his murder not two days before the crime occurred! Care to explain that little coincidence to me, Frederick?" Robin jabbed his finger out at the knight, "Take that!"
"You always were an arrogant bastard, but this…" Frederick growled, "Your Honor, the defense ought to be held in contempt! And ideally drawn and quartered!"
The judge shook his head, "Can you defend yourself against these allegations, Sir Frederick?"
He gritted his teeth, "D-Do I need to? This is absurd!"
"The game's over, Frederick," Robin assailed, "time to open the gates and let the truth flow free!"
"I don't know what…! The truth? You want the truth?! I… you have no idea what truth is!" Frederick backed away from the desk.
"Try me," Robin pressed.
"You're an imbecile, Robin, an imbecile, you hear?! You can't even begin to understand the repercussions…!"
"Frederick!" Robin shouted neutrally, "I understand more than you might think. I'm giving you a chance now: explain the truth, so you don't have a million angry Ylisseans at your door tomorrow."
"If you know as much as you claim, you'd know that isn't possible," he sighed.
"Frederick," the former tactician said again, calmly, "one chance. Whose side are you on?"
"D… D… D-Dammit!" the knight exclaimed, slamming the desk with his fist.
"Now or never!" the former tactician slapped his hands on his desk and pointed again.
Frederick supported himself at the desk on his arms, which now shook weakly, "Damn it all… Th-This can't be… I… I have failed as a knight."
"You can still fix this," Robin offered, "just confess now and we can bring this to an end."
"…I… Robin, you can't…" he sputtered, eyes narrowing.
"Frederick!" Robin slammed a fist on his desk. Any noise in the court was silenced, "Will you tell everyone the truth or will I have to crush it out of you?!"
"Gods forgive me…" he whispered, "I… must contest the defense's allegations."
"Frederick, think about what you're doing," Robin grunted.
"I have," he nodded.
"Then you leave me no choice…" Robin sighed, shaking his head ruefully.
"…What are we to do now, Sir Robin?" the judge wondered cautiously.
Robin frowned, "Bring out the truth, whatever the cost. Your Honor, the defense would like to request the prosecution be brought to the stand."
A round of gasps came from the gallery. "That… That is highly unorthodox…" the judge provided.
"I'm well aware," Robin nodded, "but I'm also left with no other option."
"Does… this mean that you are indicting the prosecution, Sir Robin?" the judge continued.
Robin leered at the scowling, sweating knight, "Until further evidence can prove otherwise, yes."
The knight scoffed, "But you said—"
"I know what I said, but if I'm going to have the real truth, I have to provide you with severe consequences for lying to me. There are two ways this can play out, Frederick: you can tell the truth, or you can hang. Which sounds better to you?"
"The prosecution will comply in the request for testimony, Your Honor," Frederick stared coldly at the defense.
The judge nodded, disturbed, "Erm, very well. I suppose I have no reason not to grant this request, then. I will call a thirty minute recess to provide both counsels with the opportunity to prepare themselves for this… frankly bizarre surprise testimony."
"Thank you, Your Honor. Understood," Robin nodded. Frederick muttered something to the same effect.
Robin ran his fingers through his hair again as he and Morgan returned to the lobby. "I can't believe it," Morgan declared neutrally, "I thought Mr. Frederick was a really nice guy, a paragon of virtue, and all that. I never would have expected he could be the murderer."
Robin looked down at his daughter and shrugged, "People can surprise you."
"What's the next step, father?" Morgan wondered.
"I just have to prepare some questions. I'm not at all sure what Frederick plans to say on the stand," he noted disaffectedly.
"Got it," the younger tactician nodded, "So what if—"
"Sir Robin,"
The pair turned their heads to face the voice. Robin spoke up, "Maribelle. What brings you here? I thought Lissa needed your attention."
"Circumstances have changed," the young woman sighed enigmatically, "Lissa's been feeling much better… and she expressed some worry about Frederick. I saw the trial today, Robin."
"I assume this means we have some talking to do," Robin watched her carefully.
The ghost of a smile crept onto the magistrate's face, "I think you knew things were really just getting started."
Morgan shifted her gaze back and forth between them, bewildered.