Author's note:
Bitte verzeih mir. It's a trying period for me now, but I'm happy to announce a new chapter for "House of Cards". The courtroom drama continues. Hab Spaß!
Also, this update is dedicated to my love (who got me into AA in the first place). Happy Anniversary, baby!
Review response:
missingnown - I try not to get discouraged by the lack of reviews; as long as people read my fanfics, and wonderful readers like yourself leave such thoughtful comments, I am perfectly content. I'm happy to hear you have enjoyed reading "House of Cards" thus far, and I hope you plan to read it through to the end. This update took longer than expected, especially since I've been really busy lately, but here it is!
House of Cards
by Dark Interval
Chapter 11: Turnabout Serenade - Trial Day 1, Part 2
There was a brief interlude for both the defense and prosecution to revise their statements following Valerian's confession. Klavier made quick amends to his witness accounts to reflect the truth of the piano; Apollo went over the updated evidence list and profiles in his court record. Everything was a mess: his facts; preconceived notions; and his initial self-confidence thrown off kilter. Valerian's tearful breakdown effectively erased all prior suspicion of rivalry, and consequently heightened Apollo's doubt. If the keyboardist didn't do it, then who? If Daryan was framed, then who did it and why? What was the motive? What wasn't he seeing?
[Type: Evidence]
Concert Piano: Was moved from stage to hallway by Valerian during intermission as some keys were spoiled. Bears Valerian and Mr. Wright's fingerprints.
[Type: Evidence]
Kerosene Container: Was moved by the defendant from Miss Wright's room to under the stage a week before the concert. Found at the crime scene. Bears defendant's fingerprints.
[Type: Evidence]
Cocoon: A single cocoon that was smuggled from Borginia into the country last weekend. It's small enough to fit into the palm of a child's hand. The cocoon has medicinal properties capable of curing Incuritis, a deadly disease. It's still missing.
[Type: Profiles]
Machi Tobaye
Age: 12
Gender: Male
The victim, previously known as the Pixie of Arpeggio, was Lamiroir's music partner and pianist. He disappeared at the start of the concert and was found dead during intermission. He often argued with Lamiroir and wasn't well liked by Mr. Wright and The Gavinners. He was suspected of smuggling a single cocoon from Borginia.
[Type: Profiles]
Ema Skye
Age: 25
Gender: Female
A grumpy homicide detective who snacks more than works. She was placed on security duty on concert night, but abandoned her post during intermission to get food for Lamiroir (and mostly for herself). Her love for science is paramount. She doesn't seem to like Prosecutor Gavin or me very much.
[Type: Profiles]
Daryan Crescend
Age: 24
Gender: Male
The defendant, an Interpol agent, and The Gavinners' second guitarist. He claims to have spent the break looking for the victim and reportedly saw him outside Trucy Wright's dressing room. He was on an undercover mission to apprehend the smuggler and had suspected Machi. He disclosed the details of his mission to only Prosecutor Gavin and Valerian.
[Type: Profiles]
Valerian Keyes
Age: 26
Gender: Male
A police officer and The Gavinners' keyboardist. He has confessed to moving the piano as some keys were spoilt, but did not commit murder. He is generally on good terms with everyone in the band. Like the other Gavinners and Mr. Wright, he doesn't seem to like the victim very much. He is the only other person apart from Prosecutor Gavin who knew the details of Daryan's mission.
Diverting suspicion onto another party produced little to no results. They were back to square one.
"Was anyone in the hallway at all?" demanded the Judge, interrupting their thoughts and very much perplexed. "Without a proper witness, it'll be difficult to – well, judge anything!"
"Your honor, if I might suggest something?" said Kristoph, finally speaking up when the tension and his impatience toward both brother and understudy proved palpable.
His unexpected interruption caught both Apollo and Klavier by surprise, though it was Klavier who awaited his brother's words with a dawning sense of dread. Kristoph was disappointed in him; it was an open display of malcontent than generosity, and unbeknownst to him, Apollo felt the exact same way under his mentor's oppression.
"By all means, Mr. Gavin! Any advice at this point would prove most invaluable to the court."
Apollo wondered if the Judge was speaking for himself rather than the benefit of the general public.
In response, Kristoph adjusted his glasses and gracefully plucked a single profile from Apollo's open court record. "My understudy has been meaning to speak with this person prior to the trial, but as a key witness, the law and prosecution has denied him this right," he explained with impeccable calmness that very well earned him the title as the coolest defense in the west. "Seeing as this man was the only person whose presence in the hallway can be fully affirmed, and that our interests coincide with the prosecution's at this point, I believe the defense has the right to perform a cross-examination… Am I correct, Klavier?" He ended by flashing his brother a meaningful smile.
Klavier nervously tugged at his shirt collar, but tried to hide his inadequacy. "Ja, I was going to suggest the same thing…"
Apollo glanced between the two brothers, feeling more lost than ever. What on earth was his mentor up to?
"And who is this person, Mr. Gavin?" asked the Judge.
"The key witness of course," Kristoph and Klavier answered simultaneously as each refused to drop their stare from one another.
"Phoenix Wright. / Has-been."
The gavel slammed twice in quick succession, the boom as loud and penetrating as Apollo's own heartbeat pounding in his ears. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of his face and he felt his throat go dry. This is it, Justice. You're going to question Mr. Wright. Don't screw this up.
Phoenix stuffed his hands into his pockets and slowly shuffled to the witness stand; tipped his beanie and flashed the Judge a lazy smile. There wasn't the slightest indication of nerves; the man completely at ease as if he had done this over a thousand times. He sought Kristoph's gaze hopefully, but the man's expression remained cold; he turned to smirk at Klavier, but the younger brother refused to look at him; then he directed his full attention to the Judge who gazed down at him regrettably, almost forlorn; a strange place in the middle of pity, surprise, and disappointment.
"Well, I must say this is certainly a surprise," said the Judge with a frown, breaking the tense silence. "To think I saw you come in a fresh lawyer, to getting disbarred, and now a witness to murder."
Phoenix laughed in that same carefree manner he always did – the one that was almost impossible to tell if it was sincere or forced out of habit.
"You haven't changed a bit, Judge."
The old man's tone softened to a sentimental one. "I wish I could say the same for you, Mr. Wright."
"Woo! Go daddy! Knock 'em dead!" came Trucy's yell from the audience.
His eyes flew open, scandalized. "What? Mr. Wright! I would have you know that I won't tolerate you knocking anyone in this court of law dead… And you have a daughter?!"
"It's just a figure of speech, your honor," Phoenix replied, amused. "And yes, many things can happen in seven years. One day, I lost my badge; the next day, I became a dad."
"Indeed. One day, I had a head full of hair; the next day, I lost all of it."
'One day, I thought being a lawyer was serious business; now, I have my doubts,' Apollo thought in exasperation, his hair spikes drooping.
"... Herr Judge, I'm afraid I'll have to cut this conversation short," interrupted Klavier with an impatient snap of his fingers, "because the prosecution would like the witness to recount the very moment he found das body." He flashed Apollo a playful smirk. "Perhaps it would shed some licht on this wenig mystery, and put an end to the defense's mad fantasie."
Fantasy!? Apollo fumed from Klavier's goading and mentally counted to five to stop himself from climbing over the table and smacking that pretty little grin off that smug bastard's face. He wasn't making this up! His theory of sabotage was real; he'd prove it; and then it would be the rockstar's turn to eat his own words, swallow it, digest it, and expel it.
Klavier's eyes were laughing. "This is mein case, Herr Justice."
But Apollo refused to back down and returned Klavier's mocking leer with a determined scowl of his own.
"We'll see about that."
"The witness will now tell the court exactly what happened when he found the body."
'Please, Mr. Wright… Don't say anything that'll put you on the spot,' Apollo prayed fervently as he stared hard at his idol who had that same, unassuming smile curled around his lips and an unshakable darkness looming behind a pair of blue eyes that no longer sparkled, that were hollow and longed for a past as distant and impossible as a dream. The image of Phoenix's fingerprints floated through Apollo's mind and a lump formed in his throat.
Don't make me implicate you. Please…
"Ahaha… I'll do my best, Judge. It's been 12 years since I stood here and testified to anything," Phoenix chuckled in an attempt to disperse the tension. "Although I must say…" He trailed off and winked at Klavier, who shot him a warning stare, "the prosecution has been rather patient tearing my statement apart for the past few days."
Klavier was about to retort, but Judge slammed his gavel down and put an end to their chatter. Goodness, there were far too many distractions and undercurrents of hostility today.
"Name and occupation?"
"Phoenix Wright, 33, and… that depends," he replied mysteriously with a cheeky smirk. "Do you want the legal one on paper, or the not-so-legal one?"
"What? Mr. Wright, you're involved in illegal enterprise?"
He giggled at the poor judge's shock. "I'm joking, your honor – he straightened up – The Gavinners' dresser. For now."
But Apollo knew better and could see past his laughter; had felt and experienced the man's brokenness first hand buried deep beneath seven dark years of bitterness, ridicule, and sexual subjugation. There were some things better left unsaid.
"Pay close attention, Apollo," said Kristoph, oblivious to the emotional conflict raging in the young attorney's heart. "No one's testimony can be fully trusted. As I taught you: find the inconsistencies, present the relevant evidence, and watch the witness fall apart."
There was a telltale smugness to the blonde's biting speech that made Apollo hesitate. He knew his mentor could be ruthless in court, but this was Phoenix they were talking about. Wasn't he his boyfriend? Oh Apollo understood pride, dignity, and reputation, especially when it came to his boss; but was Kristoph actually ok – scratch that – was he really encouraging him to break Phoenix for the sake of personal victory? Where should they draw the line between love and integrity?
"It's pretty straight-forward," began Phoenix with a nonchalant shrug, eyes darting about distractedly. "During intermission, everyone had a 10-minute break, so I spent it looking for Machi. Apart from the grand finale, him and Lamiroir were supposed to perform two songs into the second half of the concert. When I entered the dressing room hallway, I saw the piano and smelled this foul odor. I didn't know what it was or where it was coming from, but that piano definitely wasn't supposed to be there and it wasn't there when I last checked. When I opened the lid, I first saw Lamiroir's costume before I found the body wrapped inside. After that, I went to get Ema and informed the rest of the band."
[Concert piano details added to court record: emitted a foul odor]
"Ja, as the defense has just heard…" Klavier snapped his fingers with a smug smirk. "Straight-forward. Valerian moved the piano, fein. But the defendant hid the body inside and closed the lid. There's no need to over complicate things."
"Objection!" Apollo pointed at his rival. "I'm just getting started, Prosecutor Gavin. The defense still has the right to cross-examine the witness."
Klavier's laugh was patronizing. "Let's see how many excuses Herr Forehead kann come up with before it's all over."
"It's never over until I say so, Mr. Rockstar Prosecutor."
Apollo whipped out the court record, while mentally going over Phoenix's statements. Alright, what did he have so far?
[Type: Evidence]
Autopsy report: Victim was burned from head to toe with a rupture at his right side. No traces of chemical residue were found on the epidermis. Estimated time of death is between 7pm and 9pm.
[Type: Evidence]
Crime Scene Photo 1: Victim wrapped in Lamiroir's costume inside the piano. Traces of dried blood and small scraps of metal found on the cloak's inner side and victim's body.
[Type: Evidence]
Crime Scene Photo 2: A kerosene spill on the floor next to the dresser in Lamiroir's room. The victim was murdered at that spot. The defendant's lighter was found on the dresser next to the spill. Nothing else in the room was disturbed.
[Type: Evidence]
Daryan's lighter: The defendant's lighter bearing his and Mr. Wright's fingerprints. It was supposed to be in The Gavinners' dressing room, but was found at the crime scene at the end of the break.
[Type: Profiles]
Kusanagi Karasu (Crow)
Age: 22
Gender: Male
A traffic warden who dreams of becoming a policeman, and also The Gavinners' drummer. He's known for his terrible memory and unreliable testimonies. Claims that the only thing he remembers is staying in The Gavinners' dressing room for the entire break. He injured his back two days before the concert when he broke Trucy's fall, leaving her with only a sprained ankle (?!)
[Type: Profiles]
Amaranth Talvinen
Age: 27
Gender: Male
An androgynous bailiff, and The Gavinners' bassist and resident 'Ice Queen'. He's also the oldest and first member (after Prosecutor Gavin) to join the band. Mostly grumpy, vain, arrogant, and extremely secretive. He seems to have a low opinion of almost everyone, save Mr. Wright. Not much is known about him except for his keen dislike towards me.
[Type: Evidence]
Amaranth's letter: A mysterious letter depicting events that parallel the murder. It's addressed to 'Pikku lintu'. Apparently, more than one variation of these types of letters exists.
[Type: Evidence]
Cocoon: A single cocoon that was smuggled from Borginia into the country last weekend. It's small enough to fit into the palm of a child's hand. The cocoon has medicinal properties capable of curing Incuritis, a deadly disease. It's still missing.
[Type: Evidence]
Concert Piano: Was moved from stage to hallway by Valerian during intermission as some keys were spoiled. Bears Valerian and Mr. Wright's fingerprints. It emitted a foul odor during intermission.
That was the second time Apollo found himself zeroing in on the details of the piano. Call it a hunch, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that there was something not quite right about this mysterious piano; something everyone – witnesses, police, prosecution, and defense alike – had missed; something he still couldn't quite place. Over complicating things? – Perhaps. The crime scene, its conditions and evidence were too convenient, too neat; someone had framed Daryan, but why? Was it intentional or out of convenience? Why did Machi Tobaye have to die? Why was it so hard to pinpoint the culprit and motive?
There has to be a point of entry into this mess, he thought. A point of connection he was overlooking. He went through everything that had happened so far, his memory of all the interviews and investigation as carefully and clearly as he could, but despite all effort, the facts remained as muddled and obscure as before and he was no closer to securing Daryan's complete innocence.
What am I not seeing?
Perhaps there was something Phoenix knew that he wasn't telling. Apollo both hoped so and not at the same time.
"Mr. Wright, you're the only person so far who mentioned Lamiroir and Machi's second song. Were you the only one aware of this?"
Phoenix shot him a pleasant smile, one that eerily reminded him of Kristoph. "Of course not, it was part of the concert program. And I'm the dresser – I have to know these things by heart." His expression darkened. "You should've done more research on this case prior to the trial, kid."
Kristoph looked thoroughly unimpressed. "Phoenix is right, Apollo. I don't see how your question is relevant to the case."
"Bruder, ihr apprentice's defense seems to be lacking. Herr Judge, what do you think?"
"I think the defense deserves a penalty!" the Judge proclaimed with a frown. "Fair warning, Mr. Justice: slip up two more times, and I'll declare your client guilty."
Gah! Apollo gulped. Harsh. Even from his hero. Kristoph didn't appear at all pleased by his first penalty (and he probably ruined his boss' perfect record by extension). Panicking, he reached up to wipe the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. Ok… that question didn't do him any good. Was this the consequence of pressing every single statement indiscriminately?
Suddenly, something occurred to him, and he went over Phoenix's testimony again and compared it to the crime report. There was something vital Phoenix left out in his entire account, too significant and purposeful for it to be passed off as mere negligence.
"Mr. Wright, I noticed that you never once mentioned Lamiroir in your testimony, even when she was clearly with you when you found the body."
Phoenix chuckled and found the young attorney's naivety adorable. "Of course she was with me – that fact hasn't changed. But she hardly counts as a witness because she's blind. I just didn't think it necessary."
But Apollo felt his bracelet tighten and his vision go into hyper focus once more. Phoenix appeared uneasy; the confidence and carefree attitude was still there, sure, but he seemed distracted. His eyes had momentarily darted to someone in the audience and there was slight movement in his pockets, like his hands had clenched the inner lining a little too tightly.
"Sir… Why is it that when you talk about Lamiroir, you fumble with-"
"Let's have none of that, Apollo," Kristoph interrupted briskly as soon as he caught on to the brunette's intentions. "Phoenix's claim makes perfect sense. There is no need to harp on unnecessary details. I suggest you press his other statements."
'But there's something there,' Apollo felt like telling his mentor, but thought better of it when he sensed Kristoph's growing impatience and disapproval.
"How did you feel when you saw the piano?" he asked, adopting an open-ended approach this time.
Phoenix frowned and thought hard. "Mm… a little surprised, I think? Not so much that I'd lose my marbles over it."
"Hold it!" Apollo interjected, heart racing. There it was: the inconsistency. "Everyone reacted very strongly to the sight of the piano, except you. Why is that? Were you… informed about the change in finale?"
Phoenix gulped. "Uh…"
"Objection!" Klavier intervened a little too abruptly. "Whether das witness knew about the finale has nothing to do with the case."
"Objection! I think it does, Prosecutor Gavin," Apollo countered without missing a beat. "It means Mr. Wright would know that the piano wouldn't be needed and–" He stopped himself immediately when he realised, quite horrifically, where his line of reasoning was headed. What the hell am I doing?
Klavier and the Judge regarded him expectantly. Phoenix looked confused. The audience and reporters gazed at him in rapt fascination. A twinge of irritation entered Kristoph's stoic expression, the corner of his lip twitching every so often the longer his understudy delayed his accusation. "Did you think it appropriate to stop? Continue," he commanded.
"But sir…" Apollo gazed at Phoenix desperately before lowering his eyes to the fingerprint analysis laid out on the table.
I can't.
"I think I need to be clearer about that," interrupted Phoenix with a carefree laugh, the kind that came out in muffled giggles through his nose. "Yes, I was surprised that the piano was in the hallway, but it wasn't from the change in finale – like everyone else, I didn't know about it. What dulled my shock was that the piano had been in the exact same spot before the start of the concert. I just thought someone moved it back to its original place. The thought of a finale change never occurred to me," he concluded with a careless shrug as he stuffed both hands into his hoodie pockets. "Inconsistency resolved."
[Concert piano details added to court record: had been in the hallway before the start of the concert]
Klavier observed the ex-lawyer's cool demeanor and sighed in relief. Well played, has-been.
Meanwhile, Apollo started to feel faint. 'Inconsistency resolved'? – Far from it. Phoenix still had no idea he had his fingerprints… so what was he waiting for? His fingers gripped the report so hard he threatened to tear the paper. You have your proof – use it! Present it!
"Perhaps I was wrong for ever thinking you were ready," commented Kristoph after some time as he refused to meet Apollo's questioning stare. "If you're unable to substantiate your argument, you're unfit to represent your client and stand behind this table."
Apollo felt his heart plummet. "But sir-"
Kristoph snatched the report from him and stared him down. "You have the evidence. Have you lost sight of what's really important?"
"Is something wrong, Mr. Gavin?" asked the Judge, honestly concerned. This was the first time he witnessed a disagreement between the defense itself.
"Not at all, your honor," was his calm response. "I was simply reminding my understudy that he does, in fact, have evidence that contradicts the witness' testimony." He flashed a pleasant smile, perfect and cordial in every way. "Shall I have Apollo present it?"
No… Please…
Phoenix gazed at his boyfriend, anxious and terribly confused, his prior confidence melting away to reveal a sudden helplessness. Why aren't you defending me? But Kristoph wasn't looking at him and he couldn't gain any assurance from the man he loved. Contradiction? Him? Whose side was Kristoph on? Last night, his lover had reassured him, promised him… Was Kristoph suspecting him now? Phoenix felt his heart leap to his throat; trepidation seized him and before he knew it, he started to shake. Why? It hurt so much. He didn't understand.
"Mr. Gavin, please," Apollo begged his mentor. "He didn't do it. I know he didn't…"
"What was the advice Phoenix gave you on the first day I introduced you, Apollo?" Kristoph swiftly interrupted as he inspected his nails. The cold ruthlessness was back in place; at this moment, the Phoenix at the stand was a witness, nothing more.
Apollo bowed his head. "T-To always believe in my client… and pursue the truth."
"And didn't you say yourself that you're only interested in this truth? Then pursue it – question Mr. Wright."
Apollo gulped and closed his eyes to Phoenix's pain. Kristoph was watching him; there was a limit to what he could do. Again, he reminded himself that Daryan came first, so he took a deep breath.
"Sorry, Mr. Wright." His voice trembled. "I have evidence that casts doubt on your rather unnatural reaction… Your fingerprints were on the piano as well."
"Huh, huh, huh?"
The blow was as swift as it was crippling. Phoenix's beanie slipped over his eyes and he desperately fought to pull it back up; Klavier's guitar soundtrack died and he looked like he was suffering from a nasty stomach ache; the courtroom erupted into scandalized exclamations; and in the center of it all, Trucy was fuming up a storm. How dare that polliwog – argh! Accusing her daddy of a crime… this man was the worst! Not only was he a home wrecker, but an incompetent lawyer too. If they weren't in court right now, she swore she'd perform her chainsaw act and make the brunette disappear. Permanently.
Trucy took in her father's despair, his confusion and fear, and was immediately reminded of seven years ago when she caught him spending his nights crying over the injustice done unto him and his loneliness. It was happening all over again, and the cause of it was one Apollo Justice. His guilt and sympathy was as false as his hair spikes. Trucy balled her hands into fists. She would never forgive him. Never.
"Objection! The witness found das body. It is only natural for his fingerprints to be on the lid," Klavier clung on desperately, the beginnings of nervous sweat gathering on his brow.
How the hell did Justice get those fingerprints? How had Fräulein Detective missed them? Evidence that points to the has-been's guilt – that was what he'd been hoping for since the start of his investigation. He didn't like Phoenix, a bloody torn at his side; would do anything to see Daryan walk free after all this; but…
Klavier fixed his cerulean eyes on Phoenix's scared, trembling form, and his gaze softened. Something had changed.
"There is nothing odd about his reaction. You kann nicht frame mein dresser for murder with a farfetched theory like that."
Phoenix gasped. "Klavier…"
"Objection! If that was the case, then why were his prints not only on the lid, but all over the piano as well?" Apollo countered, slamming the analysis report on the table, but everything in him was screaming to take back his words. "Well, Mr. Wright?"
"I… I…"
"Ungh! Has-been…" Klavier's fingers clenched. This was bad; he couldn't help him.
"I know what you're thinking: I killed Machi, stuffed him in the piano, and pretended to find the body," Phoenix tried to defend himself, but his nervousness was palpable and his self-confidence not entirely convincing. He looked to Kristoph again, pleading him with his eyes for help, but he was alone. "Kid, you have to believe me: I didn't kill him! All I did was find the body-"
"Can you attest to that?" Kristoph interrupted and his coldness made Phoenix's heart sink. "Unless you have a solid alibi, or someone had witnessed your actions during the break, the defense's accusation still stands."
"Mr. Gavin's right, sir," said Apollo regretfully. "As you stated, Lamiroir is blind. Even if she was with you, her account cannot be deemed reliable."
Shit, Phoenix mentally cursed himself for his blunder. Who would've thought his decision to protect Lamiroir would come back to bite him in the butt? There was no way he'd let the songstress take the fall for him, but his resolve left him painfully compromised. All around him, he could hear murmurs from the crowd, of how he couldn't be trusted even after seven years; how it wouldn't be surprising if he had stooped to murder and fabrication following his disbarment; after all, it wasn't uncharted territory. Opinions started to shift in Daryan's favor; it was a good thing; but at his own expense. This was the nightmare that Kristoph had predicted last night, and Phoenix was desperate for a way out.
"Was the prosecution aware of this?" the Judge directed the question to Klavier, who had remained unnaturally silent for the past few minutes.
"Nein. This is mein first time hearing about this," he confessed. "The has-been never once mentioned the piano apart from finding the body in it."
"Which begs the question as to why," continued Kristoph in a professional voice, looking Phoenix in the eye for the first time since the latter took the stand. "For the sake of true justice, I sincerely wonder what this witness is hiding." He placed a hand on Apollo's shoulder. "Isn't that right, Apollo?"
"Ye-yes, sir." Apollo never felt more terrible in his life.
At that moment, Phoenix felt his world go dark. No… he couldn't say more about the piano. He had to protect Lamiroir. He had to protect Daryan. He had to protect himself. He had no alibi. He had to come up with something. But Apollo would see through his lies immediately; Kristoph had his perfect record to think about; and Klavier didn't like him. The trial involving Doug Swallow and Dahlia Hawthorne flashed through his mind, and like 21 years ago, on this very witness stand, he felt victimized, trapped, frightened, and alone. The accusing whispers grew louder, surrounded him and reminded him of his failure; shadows mocked him; phantoms everywhere; and he withdrew into himself.
The poison locket.
The forged diary page.
Seven years of darkness.
A lawyer can only cry when it's all over.
But he wasn't a lawyer anymore, and Mia was dead.
Someone, please… help me...
"ENOUGH!"
The court fell silent; the defense and prosecution doubled over their tables from shock; even the Judge was too stunned to demand for order. Amaranth forced himself on the witness stand, his golden eyes flashing dangerously, and if looks could kill, they would all be sent to the depths of hell.
"That's enough," he repeated lowly, allowing his threat to linger in the air. "Nick's telling the truth: he didn't kill the brat… and I alone am his alibi."
"Amaranth…"
Phoenix stared at the silver haired male in awe, moved by his courage, yet puzzled by his claim. My alibi? What does he mean? The beautiful bassist met his gaze; a sliver of light danced in his eyes, and a ghost of a smile upon his lips filled Phoenix with a sudden hope. 'I'll take it from here,' Amaranth's body language seemed to imply and Phoenix gratefully took a step back to let the younger male handle the rest.
The Judge gaped. "Bailiff, what's the meaning of this?"
"It's as I said: you wanted an alibi for Nick, you got it," he answered coolly, but Apollo caught him shaking slightly on the stand despite his stoic disposition. He covered it well with his chilling death glare though.
The Judge meeped and seemed to lack the courage to stand up against his bailiff. So, rather helplessly, he turned to the prosecution instead. "M-Mr. Gavin, did you…?"
"Don't look at me, Herr Judge," Klavier defended as he slammed his fist against the wall in his frustration. Never in his seven years had he headed such a disordered trial. What the hell was going on?
"Amaranth, what the hell?! You told me no such thing! Your testimony is about Daryan; I refuse to have you cover the has-been's incompetency!"
"Fuck off, Klavier."
"You-!"
"Hold it!" Apollo slammed his fists on the table to get their attention. "This is still part of Mr. Wright's cross-examination, Prosecutor Gavin, new witness or not. Previously, everyone linked to this case claimed to have not seen each other during intermission, but according to Mr. Talvinen now, that doesn't seem to be the case. This changes everything!"
"Objection!"
The Judge slammed his gavel and effectively cut Klavier off.
"Overruled." Then, he turned his attention to Apollo and Kristoph. "The defense will continue with the cross-examination of Mr. Talvinen."
'Yes! Score one for Justice! In your face, glimmerous fop,' Apollo cheered inwardly, while his rival looked like he could break the edge of the table with his bare hands. He scanned the court record and soon found what he was looking for. It stood out like a sore thumb before, but now was his chance. Time to put this particular piece of evidence to good use.
"Name and occupation?"
"Amaranth Talvinen, 27, court bailiff and The Gavinners' bassist."
The Judge nodded. Only God knew who was really keeping up with the events of this convoluted trial. "Mr. Talvinen will now tell the court of this mysterious alibi."
Amaranth rolled his eyes. "How many times do I need to repeat myself, old man? Nick didn't do it. I saw everything. The end."
"But-but that hardly counts as a testimo-" Amaranth glared at him again and the Judge hid under his table with a quiet "Eep!"
"Mr. Talvinen, are you... confessing to your guilt?" Apollo ventured unsurely, to which Amaranth responded with a mocking bark of laughter.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He sneered, folding his arms. "And what am I supposed to be guilty about?"
"This." Apollo pulled up Amaranth's letter and threw it on screen for the entire court to see. And for the final icing on the cake, he read it out loud.
Fire, fire… My little bird of flame
Burning on in my heart
Burn away my sin
These hands
They tremble
Pure is your sleep
Amidst the flames
I speak, but
You do not hear me
You do not see
The plan foiled by cowardice
But with love
Fire, fire…
My little bird burned away
My sin
Rakastan sinua,
Amaranth
In that instant, something in Amaranth snapped and a few strands of hair sprung loose from his ponytail. The Ice Queen lost his cool completely and collapsed across the witness stand.
"How the fuck did you get that!?"
"In your letter, you alluded to the crime itself," Apollo proceeded effortlessly, ignoring the man's vehement protests, treating it as a personal payback to the way Amaranth had treated him during his investigation and their every subsequent interaction. "The fire, the burning, a death-like slumber – is this a narration of the events that happened? What is this 'plan foiled by cowardice'? Is the bird in your letter the victim, and did you murder Machi?" He indicated at the letter's addressee. "Who is 'Pikku lintu'? It's a confessional, isn't it?"
"Shut up! I don't have to fucking tell you shit!"
"Mr. Talvinen, please answer Mr. Justice's ques-"
"I SAID, SHUT UP!"
"... Amaranth," Klavier interrupted gently, coaxing him as one fellow band mate to another. His eyes shone with understanding; he finally understood the beautiful man's dilemma hidden beneath all that hatred and spite. Being friends with Amaranth for seven years; it wasn't at all difficult to figure out the truth.
"If you don't speak for him now, you'll lose him forever."
"... Shit you, Klavier."
It was times like this that reminded Apollo how he always seemed to be late to the party. What the heck was going on? He felt like he was intruding on a deep, dark secret between two bros and he was the bloody light bulb. However, before he could ask again, Amaranth heaved a loud, heavy, reluctant sigh; seemed to fight against himself for a brief moment as he took in the sight of his fans, all the reporters and cameras rolling, before giving into the probable rejection, ridicule, and inevitable shame.
"... Hey, Justice."
"Yeah?"
"You were right about one thing: it's a confession… but not of a crime."
The bassist's tone made Apollo hesitate. Was it him or did Amaranth seem oddly cordial?
"What do you mean?"
"You never miss a beat, do you?" he drawled sarcastically with a roll of his eyes. "It's a love letter."
Oh…. OH.
Apollo blushed and his response came out in awkward stutters. "Um… But… Ah… Wasn't Machi like, 12? That's illegal..."
"Illegal?" The Judge emerged from beneath the table at the mention of that very term. "Mr. Justice, be reasonable! I can only handle one trial at a time."
Amaranth nearly lost his footing. "I'm not a fucking pedophile, you idiot! And I'll never date Machi, not even if he was the last man on earth!"
Collecting himself and brushing back his ponytail with an annoyed huff, he began explaining his letter, "Pikku lintu means 'my little bird', my personal term of endearment. The fire motif illustrates my passion. This whole letter simply expresses my angst and fear of rejection, thus the trembling hands."
Klavier's tone remained gentle; he knew how difficult this was for the usually private and silent man. "Da, the pure sleep you were referring to…"
"My love being oblivious to my feelings."
Ah. Trust Amaranth to be so cryptically poetic.
"B-But who was the letter meant for? Who's your-your love?" Apollo blushed while scrambling for answers, practically leaning over the defense table in his excitement. Part of it was his eagerness to solve this mystery; the other part, like every other person tempted by gossip and scandal, was to satisfy his own curiosity.
"Are you seriously making me come out and say it?" Amaranth snarled, but even his dangerous ferocity wasn't enough to suppress his embarrassment and the heat rushing to his cheeks.
Gods, the rookie was as dense as… the mere thought of that particular individual caused his face to crimson like a rose. The press would have a field day after this. He never wanted to make his feelings public. And now, things would surely be awkward between them.
'If you don't speak for him now, you'll lose him forever.'
Fuck this shit.
"Fine! If you want me to say it, I'll fucking say it. His name is already in the letter: 'My little bird of flame' – it's Phoenix. I… I like Nick, ok?!"
"WHAAAAT?!"
Although no response could overpower Apollo's Chords of Steel, Amaranth's confession drew quite an emotional uproar in the courtroom. Gender conservatives whispered heatedly amongst themselves; fangirls and fanboys screamed in outrage; some sobbed, mourning the tragic death of their romantic fantasies with The Gavinners' handsome bassist, while damning Phoenix Wright to the burning depths of hell. Reporters and paparazzi alternated between furiously taking down notes and phoning their editors with the latest scoop; and a huge disturbance broke out outside the courtroom. The trial was being broadcasted live; people had breached security and were banging on the doors; and broken-hearted fans raged and demanded for Phoenix Wright's blood. It was madness.
On the witness bench meanwhile, blushing scarlet, Phoenix pulled his beanie as far as it could go over his face in an attempt to hide his mortification and shut out the voices of Daryan, Crow, Valerian, and even Ema as they teased and interrogated him for answers. Behind the defense table, both mentor and protégé looked far from amused; but while the former simmered in silence and entertained the idea of mentally bashing Amaranth's skull in with a hammer, the latter's face had gone from red to purple to blue in a span of a few seconds. The nerve of that guy! Unfortunately, Apollo was in no position to publicly act on his jealousy, so he pretended his pencil was Amaranth's neck instead and broke it in half with his thumb.
"Order, order!" The Judge boomed, abusing his gavel against the stand. A murder, a conspiracy, and a possible romance? Intriguing. "Mr. Talvinen and Mr. Wright were romantically involved? Oho! This is just like those tv dramas my grandchild and wife like to watch."
"Nein, Herr Judge. Amaranth never told the has-been his feelings; it was purely one-sided," Klavier corrected with a casual snap of his fingers, before diverting his attention to his friend struggling on the witness stand. "Da, all those letters you wrote: they were für has-been?"
"Yeah," Amaranth replied, tasting bitterness on his tongue and too embarrassed to look up. "I sent a total of six letters, but Nick never replied to a single one. I thought maybe he didn't get my feelings, so I planned to confess on the day of the concert itself – that's why I went to look for him as soon as intermission started. But I fucking chickened out and ended up shadowing him the whole 10 minutes."
"'The plan foiled by cowardice, but with love,'" Klavier recited.
"I saw him with Lamiroir and I saw him discover the brat's corpse. I was too far to hear anything, but Nick's reactions were sincere and his horror, true."
[Phoenix's alibi added to court record]
So, that's Mr. Wright's alibi, Apollo realized. Who would've thought that Amaranth's stalking and crush on Phoenix would be the very miracle that left the latter clean off suspicion. On one hand, he was grateful for the diversion and could breathe a sigh of relief; on the other hand, it didn't change the fact that he still wanted to kill Amaranth and that he still was, rather blatantly, jealous. Apollo knew he ought to be concentrating on the trial, but his thoughts raced and all he could think about was why Phoenix didn't reply to any of those love letters. Did he really catch no ball? Maybe he didn't feel the same way? Or was he being loyal to Kristoph? That last one was the toughest pill to swallow and it broke his heart. He realized Amaranth and him weren't that different.
"As the court kann see, mein key witness was just a witness," said Klavier with a knowing smirk and patronizing shake of his head. "It seems Herr Forehead's imagination is rubbing off on mein bruder. Valerian is innocent; Has-been is innocent. Das defense has failed to prove their theory of sabotage."
"Indeed," said the Judge. "Penalty!"
Kristoph and Apollo flinched. Klavier felt his confidence returning. The old man struck the stand with his gavel.
"This concludes the cross-examination of Mr. Wright and Mr. Talvinen."
Apollo scowled at the evidence so hard, he could burn a hole in his papers. Well, that lead had been a total bust. He took this time to tidy up the court record, revising existing data as well as removing unwanted pieces of evidence.
[Type: Evidence]
Concert Piano: Was moved from stage to hallway by Valerian during intermission as some keys were spoiled. Bears Phoenix's fingerprints, supposedly from the moment he found the victim's body. The piano was in the hallway before the start of the concert as well as during intermission. It emitted a foul odor during intermission.
[Type: Profiles]
Amaranth Talvinen
Age: 27
Gender: Male
An androgynous bailiff, and The Gavinners' bassist and resident 'Ice Queen'. He's also the oldest and first member (after Prosecutor Gavin) to join the band. He seems to have a low opinion of almost everyone, and has a crush on Mr. Wright (!) whom he stalked during intermission.
[Valerian's fingerprints removed]
[Amaranth's letter removed]
But whatever remained still left him dry and two penalties into his first trial. Perhaps he had been wrong about the sabotage, but if so, where did that leave him? Where did that leave Daryan? The true culprit was no ordinary killer: he or she was meticulous, executed the crime perfectly, and was a professional who left no evidence behind. The whole operation had been premeditated and they were purposely leading the defense and prosecution in circles. But something still failed to make any sense: the motive. Again, Apollo found himself wondering: why did Machi have to die? Assuming the ultimate goal was to smuggle the cocoon, then where was it now? Was it necessary for the culprit to resort to murder? Why choose Daryan? Nothing seemed to fit.
"Achtung, baby!" Klavier suddenly exclaimed, interrupting Apollo's thoughts. "Ruling out das sabotage, I think it is necessary for the court to hear what the defendant has to say about all this, ja?"
"Ja- uh, I mean, yes," the Judge conceded, still struggling to keep up. "Does the defense have any objections?"
"None, your honor."
"Hm… Very well. Will the defendant please come up to the witness stand? Oh, and can we make this quick? I'm supposed to visit the Chief Justice's son in hospital after this." He shook his head with a tragic sigh. "The poor boy has Incuritis, and at such a young age too…"
Daryan shuffled to the stand miserably, weighed down by his friends' betrayal and the strength of Klavier's prosecution, but did his best to look professional and dignified about himself. Apollo had told him that he would continue to fight for his innocence no matter what, and although his previous defense failed, Daryan wanted to believe in the rookie. He wanted to… but as the hours dragged on and the cross-examinations yielded little to no results, it became much too hard. And then there was Klavier: part of him felt relieved his friend took his advice and prosecuted honorably; but another part – a selfish part – felt bitter and betrayed by the blonde's seeming apathy. Yes, Klavier was doing the right thing; he trusted him completely; but where had that hesitation gone? Why wasn't he going easy on the defense? Did Klavier think him guilty like everyone else? Weren't they brothers?
"Name and occupation?"
"Daryan Crescend, 24, Interpol agent and The Gavinners' second guitarist."
The Judge did a double take at that name. "Wait a minute… Crescend? As in Justice Crescend? You're his son? I didn't know he had two!"
Daryan gave a wry chuckle. "Yeah, the old man doesn't talk about me much. Y'know, stepson and all… And because of this mess, I won't be surprised he'd never talk about me again." The bite of humor in his voice sounded forced and painful. "Anyway, how's Damian? I haven't seen him since I got thrown into prison."
"I'm assuming he's your little brother," replied the Judge, his expression sympathetic and tone sorrowful. "It's truly unfortunate he contracted Incuritis, and at only 16 years old at that. My condolences."
"With all due respect, your honor," he replied. "You're in a better position than me to offer them."
"Oh, I shall, Mr. Crescend. I'll even bring back a pillow mint for you." And with a strike of his gavel, he declared to the court, "The defendant will now testify to the events that happened during intermission as he remembers them. Please be aware, Mr. Crescend, that Interpol prohibits full transparency and as such, only information related to this case is legal for disclosure. Can't have state secrets leaking out to the press now, can we?"
Daryan gulped and felt like he had a double noose hanging dangerously around his neck. Oh boy, how did he get mixed up in all this? And the trial was live, right? Great, just great: now the whole bloody world knew his face. He could kiss his future undercover missions goodbye if he hadn't already done so. Nervously, he looked to the defense table for support, specifically at Kristoph, but Apollo was mouthing the words, "You're fine!" and gave him a thumbs up, to which he returned the gesture and flashed the brunette a hesitant smile. He needed to get out of these handcuffs. His brother was dying and he didn't want Damian to go with the final thought of his big brother as a criminal. Damian looked up to him; it would break his heart.
'I believe you're innocent and I'm willing to stake my faith in that. What about you?'
Daryan closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Show time.
"As soon as intermission started, I quickly left the stage to the dressing area to look for Machi. Everyone had combed the venue over a dozen times before, but I wanted to make sure; y'know, like, if the kid happened to suddenly turn up in his dressing room during the break or something. Anyway, that's where I went first: Lamiroir's room. Nobody was inside, but I had this funny feeling that somebody had been in there recently, like…" Daryan bit his lip as he struggled to convey his feelings in words. "It's not like a lived-in feeling; more of…"
"A passing visitor, perhaps?" Kristoph added helpfully and Daryan snapped his fingers.
"Bingo!"
[Crime scene details added to the court record: an unknown visitor entered the room during intermission]
Apollo and Klavier frowned simultaneously. So, a stranger had visited Lamiroir's room before Daryan arrived. Two questions immediately arose from that implication: who was it? And where had Lamiroir herself been?
"Anyway, I didn't think much about it; Machi wasn't there, so I decided to look elsewhere. When I left the room, I saw the piano in the hallway and I… I just freaked! I mean, Klav told us we needed the piano for the finale, so…" He ran his fingers across his pompadour in distress. "Oh yeah, and that funky smell Nick mentioned? I smelt it too. Just didn't know it was from a rotting corpse though. After that, I ran back to the stage to find Klav to clarify – you know what? Screw it." He interrupted himself and got the Judge's attention. "Yo, Judge! I'm going to retract my previous statement."
The Judge sputtered and stared at him with wide eyes. Can you do that? Things like this didn't normally happen. And he had just managed to keep up with the case's facts too…
Kristoph was quick to catch on. "I take it that statement you said back at the detention centre was a lie? The one about looking for Klavier."
"What!? A lie!?"
The mere suggestion almost gave Apollo a cardiac arrest. No, no, no – Daryan, what the hell are you doing? As if the guitarist's position wasn't precarious enough – he just hoped he wasn't going to say something that would screw up his chances forever. Daryan had lied about his own alibi? But why? Wouldn't that sabotage his own defense and lose favor in the eyes of the court?
"This is most unusual, Mr. Crescend," remarked the Judge. "Normally, the defendant and witness always revise their statements with their respective attorneys before speaking in court."
"Uh… Well, there's kind of a reasonable explanation for that," he answered sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "The thing is, my position as an Interpol agent left me compromised: there were things I couldn't say to even my lawyer, or rather, things I didn't know whether I was allowed to say. But now that the cat's out of the bag, here's the truth: I didn't go looking for Klav; I contacted Interpol to report Machi's disappearance. We suspected he was the smuggler and there was this fear that he made a break for it. I couldn't afford to let him slip past my radar. Machi's whereabouts took precedence."
"Is this in Interpol records?" Kristoph clarified.
"Yeah, you can call them and check. Every conversation is recorded."
[Daryan's phone conversation added to the court record]
"Then the defendant's alibi checks out," Apollo concluded. "If he had been busy making that report, he wouldn't have time to commit murder and hide the body in the piano."
A drastic diversion from the previous testimony, but Apollo supposed he couldn't fault Daryan for that. Unfortunately, this left him with a new problem, one he hoped Klavier wouldn't notice –
"Achtung, Herr Forehead! Did you not think I'd know about this? The prosecution receives its information directly from Interpol. Furthermore, das conversation was clocked in at the end of intermission, leaving the defendant enough time beforehand to commit the crime. A phone call confirms nothing; unless someone witnessed the defendant's actions, his alibi remains open to question."
… Aaaaaand he did. Goddammit.
"The prosecution has made a compelling argument, Mr. Justice," commented the Judge, fully taken in by Klavier's logic. "Once, I made a phone call to my wife telling her I made dinner, and I forgot I left the chicken in the oven and ended up setting the kitchen on fire." He sniffled at the memory. "Suffice to say, I didn't manage to cook dinner after all and we ended up ordering takeout."
Please don't compare this case to your dinner, Apollo mentally pleaded. Please.
"Can the defense prove Mr. Crescend's activities before the phone call?" said the Judge.
Apollo hesitated and looked to his mentor for guidance. Kristoph appeared deep in thought as he scrutinized the evidence; then he shook his head.
"No, I can't, your honor," he answered honestly.
"I see… Then please continue with the cross-examination."
"Ask Daryan about the room," was Kristoph's immediate advice. "Don't be discouraged by that last setback; in fact, you would've gotten a penalty if you claimed you could prove something without proper evidence. It's all about playing your cards right. Remember that." He paused to flash Apollo an encouraging smile. "Phoenix gave me the same advice seven years ago."
Apollo's heart skipped a beat. Playing your cards right – Mr. Wright would know all about that, wouldn't he? He recalled their little deal made back at the Borscht Bowl Club and felt a sudden pang of guilt towards his unassuming mentor. "Think you can keep a secret from your boss?" had been Phoenix's challenge; Apollo could still remember that teasing smirk full of dark secrets; and until this day, still wondered what drove him to respond in kind. But he was in it too deep, drawn by the temptation of truth, and charmed by his idol's cunning.
"You mentioned that you checked Lamiroir's room first." He treaded with caution. "Are you absolutely sure no one was inside? And what clued you in on someone visiting her room?"
"Definitely empty. As for that strange feeling I had…" Daryan trailed off with a thoughtful frown. "Actually, now that I think about it, something really stood out for me."
"What?"
"It was too messy."
"You mean it looked arranged," Kristoph corrected and Daryan nodded.
"There were some perfume bottles on the dresser and every single one of them was knocked over. I don't exactly know where I'm going with this, but I think someone tried to make the place look like a struggle had occurred. Sure, Lamiroir's blind, I get that, but I don't think it's possible to knock an entire table's length worth of cosmetics down by accident. It had to have been done on purpose." The courtroom fell silent as every individual present mulled over Daryan's words. "Another thing that was strange was this can of hairspray lying on the ground next to the sofa."
Apollo pulled up "Crime Scene Photo 2" which depicted Lamiroir's dressing room. True enough, a single can of hairspray lay inconspicuously at the foot of the sofa in the room's center. At first, he didn't understand how this observation constituted as strange, until he realised its unrealistic angle and distance from the dresser.
[Crime scene details added to the court record: signs of struggle fabricated]
Apollo hummed as he continued to carefully analyze the picture. He was starting to get a clearer understanding about the setup. "I get it: if the items on the dresser had really been knocked over by the force of some struggle and fell to the floor, they would have ended up at the area around the dresser. But that can of hairspray is much too far – in the middle of the room to be precise."
So, his original theory on sabotage was true: the knocked over perfume bottles surrounding Daryan's lighter; he hadn't been imagining things. Even Klavier had nothing witty to retort. In fact, the blonde's face said it all: Verdammt! He would really hate to be in Ema's shoes right now.
"And you only popped by the room for a short while?"
Daryan nodded. "Yeah. After that I saw the piano and contacted HQ. Most of my break was spent talking to my boss."
Apollo had heard enough.
"Your honor," he began confidently, "as I suspected, the defendant has been framed. The lighter, the kerosene container, the unknown visitor, and the false signs of struggle – all these point to the possibility of a third party."
"Precisely," chimed Kristoph by his side. "I believe a more thorough investigation is needed to pinpoint the real culprit behind this premeditated homicide. As the defense has posed over and over again, Mr. Crescend was clearly framed for a crime he did not commit."
The Judge hummed and considered the famed attorney's request. It made perfect sense. As of now, nothing could be clearly ruled out and/or established. While the prosecution denied claims on the involvement of any of its witnesses, the defense simultaneously managed to prove the existence of a mysterious third party involved.
"A reasonable request, Mr. Gavin." He turned to the younger Gavin brother. "Does the prosecution have any objections?"
Conflict showed clear across Klavier's face as he grappled with his principles. Something wasn't right. Obviously, this was good news: there had been sabotage and his best friend was really innocent after all. But a nagging voice in his head told him Justice was wrong; his brother was wrong; only that he couldn't explain why. Unconsciously, he found his gaze traveling to the witness bench to land on Phoenix. Their eyes met; the ex-lawyer looked confused at first, until realization kicked in and he understood what Klavier was silently asking for. So, like the previous evening in the prosecutor's office, Phoenix offered him a gentle, encouraging smile, and Klavier could practically hear his voice in his head:
'If you truly believe Daryan's innocent, clear your doubt; prosecute him; pursue the truth – don't be afraid.'
His jaw clenched and his fist shook.
"I…"
"WAIT!"
Daryan's pompadour flopped; the Judge's eyes flew open; Apollo jerked back in alarm; and Kristoph's glasses gleamed dangerously from the unwanted interruption. All eyes turned to a certain orange-haired drummer who all but shoved his way onto the witness stand. His expression was anxious, his dark eyes wild.
"Leader! Don't believe him, he's lying!"
Klavier looked like he was severely close to popping a blood vessel. Mein Gott, these witnesses!
"Crow?!" Apollo stood apprehensive, sweating bullets at the thought of disproving yet another testimony. All his hard work – turned to dust.
"What are you talking about? I thought you didn't know anything!"
"Shut up, lawyer dude, I just remembered something." Crow gripped the stand's rail so hard his hands trembled. "I saw Daryan leave Lamiroir's dressing room holding a pair of half-melted sunglasses – the same one the brat used to wear."
Crow pointed an accusing finger at a flabbergasted Daryan.
"I saw him! He killed Machi Tobaye!"
To be continued...
