Summary:

An overview of the murder - discerning the truth.

Notes:

Be forewarned: Another long chapter awaits.

The Swinging Pendulum and the Hanging Man

Thursday August 11th 2016 – 9:34 PM

"The facts of the case as we know them. For several days, there have been numerous complaints of two women arguing in and around 3C – the unit where the murder ultimately occurred. Residents of the complex noted that the two women, identified as Ruby and Fiona by their descriptions, were in disagreement. The noise complaints started last week; the first on Thursday August 4th and then over the next few days: Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. The 5th, 6th, and 7th.

"On Monday and Tuesday 8th and 9th, the landlord followed up on numerous complaints, but the arguments had already deescalated by then and the sisters were seen casually talking. Wednesday the 10th, the day of the murder, multiple residents called on a loud noise, unprompted, during the afternoon, around 2:30 PM. The police did a wellness check and found Fiona by herself . . . stating that she had tripped and fell, and that the noise was just a 'simple mistake'. From 2:30 PM to 3:00 PM, Fiona was last seen alive and well.

"The next round of complaints came at around 6:10 PM. Someone aggressively broke the door down. Fiona screamed. And the neighbors heard an altercation, with several thumps. The call came in from their next-door neighbor, Mrs. Yogi, who locked her door and isolated herself and her husband in the bathroom until the police arrived.

"The police found Ruby Frost over her sister's body. She did not say anything during the arrest, but there is enough probable cause to determine her guilt. Ruby and Fiona Frost were arguing all week. Due to high tensions and Ruby Frost's arrest at the apartments, we can conclude that Ruby Frost took the life of Fiona."

"I see you are conveniently leaving out your own involvement." Raymond commented once Phoenix concluded.

"Oh. You are correct. The apartment was leased to Phoenix Wright and neither Frost sister were included on it. Is that better?" Phoenix added.

"Make sure you add all those details," Ray winked, "Wouldn't want to think you were trying to pull a fast one, huh?"

"Fair point. Any other issues?" Phoenix asked.

"The person who broke the front door. Did anyone get a good look at him?" Miles asked.

"Him? Where did a male suspect come into question? No. No one saw her break down the door. None of the witnesses – the residents – saw who broke down the door. Conflicting reports suggest that it sounded more like a man's heavy footsteps, but . . . that's mostly just conjecture at this point, wouldn't you agree?"

"If it could have been a man, then would that not excuse Ruby's presence as solely a sister in shock and point the murderer as someone else?" Miles retorted.

"True. The perpetrator could have been the one who signed the lease."

"'Singed the lease'? Phoenix, you know that I am talking about White." Miles pushed.

"White? Who is White? No resident or employee of that complex has the name White. Are you sure you aren't mistaken?" Phoenix said.

". . . White. There is no way to tie him to this murder at this time." Gregory said, "That is what Phoenix is saying. He is playing his role rather well . . ."

Yes. Of course. If this were a true court scenario, the prosecution would deny it in a heartbeat. I need to find a way to discredit this proposal as I normally do.

"Haha!" Raymond laughed, "Oh boy! I guess we're gonna get something good from this after all!"

Phoenix didn't react. Miles thought it through and remembered that he also heard about the noise complaints from the landlord. It was significant enough to be brought in as motive, so he started there. "Can you be more specific about the arguments between Ruby and Fiona?"

"No. The witnesses never went into full detail on what they heard. Just that they screamed at each other intensely." Phoenix answered.

"And do you know anything beyond what witnesses may or may not have understood? You are their partner, Wright. Can you shed more light on the cause of that tension?"

". . . No. I don't know why they were fighting. But you are wrong about one thing – I am only Ruby's partner."

"Oh?" Miles looked at him more closely, "But both of them stayed at that residence. You only worked with Ruby, though?"

Gregory went on his computer while they were discussing Ruby and Fiona. Phoenix shrugged, "Fiona wanted nothing to do with Bluecorp. If they were arguing, it may have been about that. It may have been unrelated. I do not know. I have not been at the apartment since the end of last month."

"Last month? So, July?"

"30th or so." Phoenix nodded.

"Why is that?" Miles wondered.

"Ruby requested privacy. I was preparing my official investigation into Bluecorp, so I had no real reason to return to that location – it's been paid through December, anyway. If she had reason to use it, I was not going to get in her way."

Miles asked, "If you weren't meeting her at that apartment, then where did you meet her?"

"At the local pancake house."

"Did you develop film elsewhere?"

"Does it matter?" Phoenix shook his head, "I really don't see where you're trying to go with this. If it does, for some reason, matter to you – then yes. at the house there is a darkroom. But I usually prefer digital anymore."

"Consistency, Wright. You and Ruby are partners, but you had not been at the one place reserved for the two of you to utilize for Bluecorp. I wanted to know why." Miles clarified his reasoning.

"It was at Ruby's request. She didn't say why, and I didn't ask."

This is not gaining any traction forward. It seems to me that when Wright wanted to start his official investigation, he also wanted to cut ties with the Frosts. . . . No. He wouldn't kill one of them to achieve that goal . . .

"Oh. I should have checked this sooner." Gregory said, "Phoenix. When did Fiona return to the city? It says she moved 2 hours north in January 2016 – a fact that I did not catch before. You said she did not want to be involved with Bluecorp, so she moved away? When is the last time you saw her?"

". . . She moved in January. And I had not seen her since."

"Then when Ruby asked you for privacy, could that have been when Fiona returned?" Gregory asked.

Miles said, "The landlord did not recognize Fiona. I remember him saying that."

"And Ruby did not tell me Fiona was back." Phoenix nodded, "It is a bit odd."

"Why didn't you clarify that sooner?" Raymond asked.

"I wasn't sure if the prosecution knows about that. They probably will by tomorrow, but I want you to piece this all together. After all, I don't want you to think that I'm manipulating you to believe what I want you to believe."

"Touché. You're saying that you had no idea that Fiona was staying at your apartment?" Raymond asked.

"Yeah. That's why I am beginning to suspect that Fiona is the one who told White about me. If White managed to kill me and caused enough of a scare in Ruby, Fiona hoped that would be enough to intimidate Ruby into hiding with her. It's a theory, but . . . it does sound like a play that Fiona would use."

Raymond questioned, "You believe that girl would do something like that?"

"Either she or Ruby took pictures of me. There was some ill intent behind that move. As it stands now: Fiona came back home, probably around August 1st. I stayed clear of the apartments by Ruby's request. Around Thursday August 4th the sisters began to argue through the weekend."

Raymond continued to interrogate, "How do we know that you are true to your word? You say that you stayed away but it's also possible that you found out Fiona came home and planned a move against her – for having those photographs of you."

"Then link me to the murder, if that's your belief. I gave you the facts earlier– extract where I killed Fiona and you might have a case."

Raymond whistled, "You've got some guts, that's for sure. All right. If these other residents heard male sounding footsteps, wouldn't you qualify?" Raymond pointed out.

"Oh, sure. Definitely. I am a suspect. I have male feet. So that puts me there, definitively. Or, really, it doesn't. it could have been you, with as little as that fact tells us. Or it could have been another resident bring up his groceries." Phoenix shrugged, "Unfortunately, you'll have to do a little better than that to take the heat off of Ruby and onto someone else."

Off of one suspect and onto another. I believe he has told Fiona about that strategy.

"Is this all you got? I'm severely underwhelmed . . ." Phoenix taunted.

"And how do we know you aren't making up things? These testimonies especially?" Raymond challenged.

"Here." Phoenix handed over the testimonies from his neighbors; Phoenix succinctly paraphrased what each record contained and did not lie about anything. The only testimony not here, however, belonged to Yanni Yogi.

"There is one missing." Miles said.

"If there is, that is due to negligence on the precinct's part. This is what I collected from there."

"Oh, of course. We deduced that they would eliminate Mr. Yogi's testimony on princip – Wait, the precinct? I thought you tricked the detective at the crime scene into handing over reports?" Miles crossed his arms.

"Oh, I did at both places."

". . . Both? You did that same bluff twice? And it worked twice?" Does the precinct hire nothing but buffoons!?

"Yup. I walked straight into the precinct and told them – what did I tell them? Oh, right! That Chief Skye needed a copy of all the updated reports and that I'd give it to her. I showed them my credentials and everything, so don't worry."

"You walked in the precinct, filled with detectives, police, and possibly prosecutors, and not one of them recognized you as a suspect?" Miles could not fathom the mental image that gave him.

"Not my fault that it works, Miles. Put on a hat and all of a sudden, you're a different person! Tada! Hahaha!"

"That is – I have no words for what that is."

"Save it for later. Or are you saying you're done? We keep getting sidetracked. Right this moment, Ruby is still the primary suspect, then I am. The murder itself has not been addressed. You have that report, yes?"

Autopsy:

Victim : Fiona Frost

Age : 23

Cause of Death : Blunt force trauma to the back of the head.

Approximated Time of Death : August 10th, 2016. Between 5:00 PM and 6:30 PM

Notes : Strength from blow severe enough to cause pressure bleeding. Death was instantaneous from single blow.

Additional notes: bruising from where she fell postmortem on her face and arms.

Murder Weapon:

Metal rod : Blood found on one end.

Forensics doing additional testing for fingerprints and blood tests. Updated autopsy and weapon report pending.

Phoenix said, "After breaking down the door, the perpetrator attacked Fiona in the first room and struck her down. A single blow was enough to kill her on impact. The murder weapon was also found next to Fiona, where Ruby was found, crouched over on her arrest."

"This report is not complete," Miles said, "Who's fingerprints were found on the murder weapon?"

"Hah!" Phoenix laughed, "Hahaha! Oh, so you wanna know that, do you? You fell for the oldest trick, I just want you to know that."

"Phoenix?" Miles narrowed his eyes. What is with that reaction?

"Yes. I did pull an additional, updated report on the weapon. A full weapon's analysis shows that there are several sets of fingerprints on the rod – but they all belong to one person."

Several sets of the same fingerprints? Miles hesitated to ask, but he did anyway, "Who's fingerprints were found on the weapon?"

"Mine." Phoenix smiled haughtily.

"Yours!?" Miles expected that answer, but the way Phoenix acted only added to his anxiety. Why is he so . . . cheerful about that?

"Ah. So it was a trap." Gregory sighed into his hands. A trap?

"So, there is a way to link you to the murder." Ray said, "You had better have a good reason for that."

". . . Oh. I am not the one who needs a reason. You see, I bought that rod – it was my possession. Meaning, my fingerprints were supposed to be on them, really."

"That wouldn't fly in court and you know it." Raymond warned.

"True. I suppose I should also tell you here, before we move on, that on Ruby's person was a set of keys, her gun, and gloves. Knowing that, let me propose this: Who would benefit from not wiping down the murder weapon, found in my apartment, and then could theoretically try to play it off as I killed her since my fingerprints were on the weapon,but not hers?"

"Ah. Ruby . . ." Raymond shook his head.

"Exactly. When that weapon is presented with my fingerprints, but Ruby is the one who is on trial, who do you think the Judge would look to for answers?"

"The prosecution, of course." Miles answered, "If the murder weapon conflicted with the person accused, a reason would need to be brought forward. And you just explained it . . . Ruby wore gloves, but she was near the weapon, so that still makes her a suspect."

"But it also makes you a suspect," Raymond said, "You called Ruby, right? You could have known she would drive back and set her up accordingly."

"Assuming she was not home that evening to begin with. It's inconvenient, no matter which way you argue it." Phoenix rebutted.

"She did say she was out on a job." Miles frowned.

"Then that means that both are valid arguments against Ruby and me, but conflicting when trying to frame us both as a team act. The narrative gets convoluted because there is no clear focus on who murdered Frost – especially from the prosecution's seat."

". . . And so they are going after Ruby first." Miles closed his eyes. "Why would White – the perpetrator, I mean, not wipe down the weapon?"

". . . I don't know. Why do you think?" Phoenix asked.

"Time restriction? This entire series of events happened quickly – even the news was quick on it, so he had to leave." Miles reasoned.

"That would imply that the perpetrator left immediately. Ruby was there on her arrest. She could have wiped down the weapon if she had struck her sister down and refused to leave. She did not, though. Because she came to the apartments in fear for Fiona's wellbeing – and could not move due to shock of discovering the body."

"She then hoped whoever killed her would show up on the weapon." Miles nodded, "Did the blood on the rod belong to Fiona?"

"It did. Whoever struck Fiona down was wearing gloves . . . or it was hypothetically me, because why would I care at that point? Or maybe I was also wearing gloves?" Phoenix showed him a picture of the fingerprint placement. They were found all over the rod, so even if it was wielded as a weapon, it was undeterminable.

Gregory added, "White would have no reason to wipe the rod down, because of a similar reasoning from before. He was sure that his own prints would not be discovered, but someone else's could have been."

"This adds another layer of complication," Ray sighed. "Well, fugitive. You got a special take on it that we haven't seen? It's your hide on the line, after all."

"I hired attorneys for a reason. How should I know?" Phoenix laughed.

"You think you're cute, huh? Detective?" Raymond raised an eyebrow.

"Hmm. Well. It's a shame that you're only seeing that rod through a photo." Phoenix stated.

"Right. Part of the problem we face currently is that we do not have the full evidence to examine, or the witnesses to question." Miles agreed.

Phoenix reached into his beltloop and showed them another rod. Ray was a bit defensive, but Miles knew it was on him – that fact had been on the back of his mind through this entire session. "That rod has a serial code on it, right? An identifier of sorts. If you looked that code up, it would describe it as an 'alloy composite' – meaning, it is a mixture of materials."

Phoenix held it to the side, where there was nothing in his way, and clicked a button. The rod extended to its full length, exposing one rod hidden within the other. Then he popped and unscrewed it, separating the two rods. "I keep this one around to pull down the rope ladder to the fire escape. It's useful for other things around the yard, too. But, this rod should match your murder weapon."

"It's hollow." Miles said before he even touched it, learning that when Phoenix expanded it. Once he held it, Miles noticed it was lightweight as well. It was not a solid rod, nor was it even fully metal. There was a layer of sheen on it, giving it the illusion of wholly metallic, but the rod was not very sturdy. Its composition was closer to a plastic composite.

"There is no way something like this would kill another. Not in one swing and definitely not to that severity." Miles claimed.

"You think?" Phoenix shrugged, "Even if it could, there's something else conflicting about the supposed 'murder weapon'. Look at the picture again and compare it to the rod in your hand. Picture yourself swinging it with enough force to burst someone's head in. What state would you think that rod should be in after that?"

"It would be dented." Miles said.

"At least. You know, I did have to buy a few spares. I dropped it and it pinched itself shut on one end. I could not get it to collapse into itself after that. But, you are right," Phoenix held out the half he carried and slapped it against his knee. His half gave way, bending into a 'U' shape instantly, then he wore it on his wrist like a bracelet. "If I were to use this against someone's skull and cause pressure bleeding, the rod would end up looking like this or much worse. It would not survive the collision, either."

Miles looked at the picture again. It was way to straight and polished for that treatment. "This isn't the murder weapon, then." Miles nodded. It could not be. Someone planted the blood on the rod to make it all the more convincing. On a closer inspection, the rod does not withstand inspection.

"Well, so much for tying me to the murder, eh?" He said to Shields, who then took it as a challenge. Phoenix asked, "So, the next obvious question should follow:"

"What is the actual murder weapon?" Miles completed the thought.

"The police force examined the entire complex, including the dumpsters and the outside areas. Nothing else came up that resembled another murder weapon. So, it was either taken from the murder site. Or, it was brought with the perpetrator and also removed on his exit."

"Oh, I can totally see that, Fugitive." Ray said, "Something like, say, a fist on an arm? That would definitely have to go with the suspect when he retreated."

"Oh, you!" Phoenix exclaimed, "You are so much fun to argue with! Yes, of course! A fist! That would fit the scenario perfectly. To a T, even!"

"Yeah. It would. And your cast screams a song. Wanna hear it?" Ray goaded.

Larry's playlist must have ended because he said, "You weren't wearing a cast when I saw you yesterday."

"Nope, sure wasn't." Phoenix nodded.

"Ah. So it happened after 3:00 PM, then? Suspicious." Raymond said.

"It did! You're right!"

"WRIGHT! Do you have enough rope to hang yourself with, or should I bring you more!?" Miles asked. Again, why are you EXCITED about being accused and have corresponding evidence to back that claim?

"I'm hanging, but it's not by my neck. Trust me, I'm still fine."

"You're insane, that's what you are." Miles disagreed venomously.

"Don't worry. I got this one."

"Oh? So you can explain that cast, then? Because I assert that you killed Fiona using only your hand and damaged it in the process. Wouldn't that work, according to your latest theory?" Ray said.

"It would."

"Then, what do you have to say for yourself?" Ray asked.

"I'm not left-handed?" Phoenix mouthed off, flailing it around.

"So, you can't throw a lefthanded punch? That's what you're saying?" Raymond combated.

"Self-defense."

"OBJECTION! Bull! You can't just claim self-defense without proof!" Raymond demanded.

"But it really is self-defense."

"And I'm telling you I'm not buying it!"

"Okay, fine!" Phoenix slammed his hands down and yelped in pain.

". . . You forgot your hand is injured, did you not?" Miles smirked, enjoying his pain for some reason.

"Yup," Phoenix's eyes watered, "Hmmm! I'm gonna hafta remember not to do that . . ."

"Just use one hand. Much more effective." Miles advised and demonstrated. "Just pick the right hand, okay?"

"Hmmm! Yeah, yeah! Phew." Phoenix held his left wrist and tried not to whimper.

"Are you alright?" Ray asked.

"Y-Yes. Ahem. So. I just have a question. This autopsy report gives it a ranged death of 5:00 PM to 6:30 PM. Let's go over something real quick. Fiona was noted alive at 3:00 PM. I was at the courthouse shortly before then, but then to Bluecorp after that. To which I stayed until 5:30 PM. Do you have any issue with this timeline?"

". . . No. The testimonies all claim to hear screams and loud noises after 6:00 PM. Why?" Raymond asked.

"I just wanted to make sure you agreed that the murder happened at 6:15 PM. If there's no reason to disagree with that timeline, then there's something else I wanted to bring up. I didn't put this cast on myself." Phoenix handed him a report from the binder and Ray folded immediately.

"Heh. Nice. Good job, detective."

"What is that?" Miles asked.

Raymond said, ". . . It's a medical report. An emergency visit at the Hotti Clinic, made by your fugitive. Check in time is yesterday at 5:48 PM and release time 10:00 PM. The emergency visit was due to a broken hand."

". . . And that happened . . ?" Phoenix grinned, looking for a confirmation.

"You checked in before the murder occurred and stayed until long after it was reported." Raymond handed Miles the report.

"In other words, I have an alibi. The police have no probable cause for my arrest, in fact, they can place me elsewhere. They would have to find some way to claim the murder occurred between 3:00 PM and 5:00 PM, although I'm not sure such a way exists. There weren't any noise complaints during that time period, except the one where Fiona was verified to be both alive and alone."

"A two-hour period where that might be possible, hm?" Ray scratched his chin, thinking it through. "If there were something other than a noise complaint, I'm sure the prosecution would use it. Well, got any thoughts on that? You are a prosecutor, aren't you?"

"Wright is a detective." Miles said, ". . . Right?"

"Well, yes. Haha." Phoenix chuckled.

"He started off as a detective," Ray clarified, "But then he decided it wasn't enough and went into law. You are a busy little fugitive, aren't you?"

"Hahah. . . Ah. I thought you might have known." Phoenix laughed.

"Wait, so you're a – oh no." The thought of facing Phoenix in court was now a very sudden and real possibility. "Why a prosecutor!?"

"I like the idea of defending people. But I also like hunting down criminals as a detective, then deporting them back to home for trial, then prosecuting them when they think they've seen the last of me. It's like – when they see me – they get a little paler. 'He was a detective! He couldn't both be here and there!' Why, yes. Yes, I can. I like to prosecute the people I catch. It's fun, really."

"Kinda warped, the way you say it." Ray observed.

Miles ignored Ray and asked Phoenix, "But you have no work or education history in the States as Phoenix Wright. Don't tell me you did this under that other alias?"

"I paid my fees yesterday and officially have a work history – well, sorta. Hours before White caught on, in fact."

"You're registered as a prosecutor here . . ." Miles let that information sink in. Then he went to the courthouse for that sole reason.

"I was gonna fill you in this morning with a little celebration, knowing that my credits transferred in and my training with Skye was deemed complete. I passed the bar – again – and just had one last registration fee before I'm a legit prosecutor for the lovely state of CA."

Is this a nightmare? Am I still dreaming?

Phoenix pouted, "Then this all happened, and I'm pretty pissed about it. Oh well. I get to sit on the sidelines for once. I truly hate having to give my hard-earned evidence away. I get emotionally attached to it. Each case, I pour my heart and soul into; it's like falling in love over and over again before ending it and moving on to the next best thing. In this case, breaking up is like putting psychopaths behind bars."

"No, I really do think you need help." Ray commented.

"My therapist says I'm doing much better. And I'm cleared to work by every agency that's had similar qualms. I'm good!" Phoenix laughed.

"Oh. Good. You're mentally cleared. What a relief." Raymond shrugged.

"You weren't going in this investigation as the lead detective. You were going in as the lead prosecutor." Miles felt a twitch forming in his brain. He was not sure that was possible or if that was a sign of early death and departure.

"Yup. Can't prosecute someone if you're thought of a suspect, though."

Miles kept an outward stoic personality, stating in response, "So, it would seem." Internally, however, he was still on the pendulum that swung the complete opposite direction of their first guesses on who Phoenix was. Prosecutor. He is a . . . prosecutor.

Phoenix broke through his inner stuttering and said, "Listen, Miles. This entire case focuses on a man who can and will ruin anyone in his warpath. The argument against Ruby and me is incredibly weak – you might stand a chance to get us off the hook . . . without casting doubt on White. If you try and fail to get White a guilty verdict, he will not stop hunting you until there is nothing left to destroy."

"What are you saying, Wright? That I should back down?" Miles asked, starting to recover from that last bit of news.

". . . You have the option. If it comes to it, no one will think any less of you – of any of you – for not going all the way and attempting to put White where he belongs. If you can't, then I will once my alibi is proven and my name cleared."

"Wright. It's as you said before. The moment that White learns I was with you tonight; he may decide I am a threat to him by the trial's end tomorrow. I have no choice, really, but to prove him the murderer. Or, do you have reason to believe we are otherwise safe, suddenly?"

"No. I suppose I don't. Alright, Miles . . . The true murder weapon – the same reasoning applies to Ruby. She was found at the crime scene. Her gun has been tested – she didn't pistol whip Fiona to death. Her hands are incredibly unbruised. No alternative murder weapon exists that links to Ruby."

"Yes. That makes sense." Miles nodded.

"Then the murder weapon belonged to White. But . . . linking White to the apartment without a shred of DNA evidence . . . is it possible, or not?" Phoenix asked.

"You found a way to do it, I am sure." Miles said. I believe that Clock has to be it. A weapon that White brought with him – he at least brought it to Wright's house and used it to brutalize my car. The possibility of linking that action to the apartments might be my only play here. And I cannot discount that other incident where it may have been used.

"Tell me about your self-defense, Phoenix. What happened?"

"White cornered me and used that statue – clock? – to hit me. I raised my hand in self-defense and ran on recoil. Then I pulled the fire escape to create witnesses."

"So, it was the Thinker. He used the statue on you and then followed you to the apartments. Then later to your house. He kept that thing on him this entire time." Miles said.

"Yes. That is likely." Phoenix agreed.

"But still too circumstantial to count as anything but theory." Gregory said, "If you can convince the Judge otherwise, though, he will find residue of blood from Fiona's wound."

"Yes. Exactly." Phoenix nodded, "You are both correct. If you think of it as a series of events, White kept that statue close to him. It's too bulky to dispose of easily and it would draw too much attention to the scene of the crime; at least a few Bluecorp's employees had already seen the clock on Julia's desk. They could link that statue back to Bluecorp."

"Julia?" Larry asked.

"Yes. The attack happened when I gave her my resignation. You must have given her that clock as a present, right? . . . Unfortunately, Julia witnessed White's aggressive behavior towards me."

"I knew it. Julia knew something and would not tell me." Miles said.

"Don't blame her. I told her not to tell anyone what she witnessed, for her own safety. He would have hurt her, too, if he figured out she said anything to you."

"That business card came from her – how did she connect the name Verrier back to you?"

"She heard White call me 'Wright'. I could tell she was confused."

"Okay. Then maybe she did not know, but she did try to help in the end." Miles said, though Larry looked confused.

"She was scared. Don't blame her for that, she was only doing what was best for her survival. But we're moving away from the point – White held onto that statue. He had no reason to dispose of it and will likely placed it back on Julia's desk for continuity. However, if we can prove that as a possible murder weapon, it would need to be tested."

"Okay. And how do we go about doing that?" Raymond asked.

". . . I have one last thing to show you. it's how I was able to capture your pictures without a noticeable camera." Phoenix fished out a pair of glasses and said, "Around the bridge is a video camera. I just found still shots that came out clean. I recorded when White attacked me in Julia's office. It's in first person view, though, obviously. But it still shows that White attacked someone, if the prosecutor takes issue with it."

Phoenix took out his laptop and played the video. The entire exchange between the two men came out clearly as well.

". . . That work can be completed tomorrow, right? Why don't you go home for the night?" The voice was male, sounding like Phoenix, and the focus was on Julia.

"You heard Mr. Wrong, right darling? Go on home, to your humble abode, Miss lovely Julia."

She stood up nervously.

"Oh, and dear? Say a word about this to anyone and you'll find yourself in need of a good lawyer. And a doctor."

"Mmmm!" She squeaked and shook violently.

Phoenix's voice said, "Julia. Do as he says. Leave. Do not contact the police. Or your friends and family. Keep yourself out of this."

Julia grabbed her car keys and wallet, then ran out the door. White caught her and she screamed.

"Don't!" Phoenix shouted. "Don't hurt her."

White eyed Phoenix and stole her phone. "All but this can go with you."

"Al-Alright . . ." She cried.

"Now, go home and watch something funny! Get your mind off of these altervocations!" He let her go and laughed as she sprinted away out of the camera's view. White shifted back into place, blocking Phoenix off and cornering him.

"What do you want?"

"Is that any way to address your superior?"

"You are not my boss."

"That is not what I mean. I mean that I am superior to a lowly creature like you in every conceivanable aspect."

"Except in vocabulary."

White frowned.

"Well! Aren't you a spry one! Mr. Wrong, I have just one thing to say to you . . ." White held out a document that showed Phoenix's registration as a prosecutor. His name was clearly visible.

"That paperwork –"

"Yes. You submitted it only three hours ago. How, you ask, that it came to be in my personage's possitasion? I have connections, you see. Informants. I would say congratulatories were called for, except that I'm told you mean to move against me."

". . . An informant, huh? I should have expected that."

"You really should have, Mr. Wrong! Unfortunately for you, I cannot afford to let a parasite squander my business. Now. If you don't mind doing one last thing for me, Mr. Wrong . . ."

"And what would that be?"

"I need you to stay silent . . . forever. Farewell, Mr. Wrong."

White reached around Phoenix's left shoulder to grab the statue, while Phoenix started to drift to his right.

White swung it around and aimed for Phoenix's left temple, but it was blocked by a hand that absorbed the damage. The clock sounded its timing call, matching perfectly to the timestamp on the video at 5:32 PM. Phoenix ran from the scene, and the moment he caught pulling the fire alarm was also recorded.

"THAT ASSHOLE PUT HIS HANDS ON JULES!" Larry screamed.

"Don't you dare do anything, Larry. I am having a time with this case as it is. She is safe, right? Keep that in mind . . ." Phoenix warned, after he paused the video. "Show this to the Judge and have him check for blood on that statue. There's an argument to be said here that White came looking for me after he tried to kill me. He went to those apartments and found Fiona instead of me."

"That . . . angle where he tried to hit you. it would have been fatal." Gregory said. "Yes. The connection exists through this."

"It's an established pattern on White's part – a careless mistake. We just have to hope that White was consistent and used the statue to murder Fiona." Phoenix said. "Otherwise, we're back to square one and White gets off the hook once more."

"Did you have recordings at the apartments?" Miles asked.

"No. in respect of Ruby's privacy, I had none of my own set up." Phoenix sighed, "I shoulda just ignored her. Turnabout is fair play, right? She had her gun on her and I remember telling her I didn't want that thing on my rented property. I'm also nearly positive I had all of them confiscated."

"Oh. Good. You know she pulled that on me, correct?" Miles rubbed it in. Phoenix slouched forward and his eye twitched.

"She – she did? . . . Yeah, the next time I see her, I am pretty sure it's going to be an all-out yelling match."

"You do not have to do that on my behalf. I am mostly recovered from it, I just wanted to say something." Miles let out a chuckle, finally able to find a light in this dark day.

"I am not over it!" Phoenix shouted, "I told her she was going to accidently shoot an innocent person! If she shot you, then I really woulda been – uh, anyway."

Miles looked at Phoenix quizzically. "You would have what, Wright?"

"Done nothing at all. Anyway, there is one more thing I would like to say."

"And what is that?"

"Do not bring up the possibility of Fiona's betrayal to Ruby. Not yet. I am not entirely convinced that she did do anything . . . Fiona's return to the apartment implies one thing to me – she probably did not have a key to the darkroom, especially if Ruby knew that she planned to do something stupid. Even if she took pictures on a film roll, I don't think she could have developed them."

"The door to the darkroom was broken into as well as the front door." Miles said. "I originally thought that White might have done it. Is that incorrect?"

"It was? . . . Oh." Phoenix put his hand to his chin, "I doubt White would have had enough time to go searching for our darkroom, given the timeline. . . . Don't tell me . . . Fiona . . ."

"Fiona planned to develop those pictures. Ruby said to me that she was out of the area, on work. Fiona waited for Ruby to leave and broke down that door." Miles frowned.

"And a noise complaint was followed up around 3:00 PM – she was still alive then and alone. . . . She broke down that door then. That is unfortunate. Let me handle that news. . . . Or maybe I won't. Maybe I'll let that information die out." Phoenix sighed.

"Discretion is wise in this." Gregory agreed, "Since it doesn't tie in with the core case, we can choose how to break that information in – if we do so at all."

Phoenix nodded, "Well, that is truly all I have. I think it's time for me to go."

"Go? Go where?" Miles demanded.

"To the detention center. I have done what I needed to do – pass on the information of the case to you. By the time you fully remove Ruby as the primary suspect, it will be my turn – and hopefully they'll be done grilling me for info that I'm not telling. I love my evidence, after all. I don't share with who I don't like. Oh. I am leaving my phone, laptop, and binder to you. I do have a letter of request for your help. All I need is a signature from one of you."

"You were planning on turning yourself in and requesting us from the beginning." Miles stated.

"If I got caught at either the crime scene or the precinct, my plan was to call you and tell you everything that I possibly could. I had more freedom to do so in this scenario. It was a necessary risk to try and extract information from the official reports . . .But yes, I wanted to pass on as much as possible, then have my own trial."

"And what will you tell them when they ask why you have avoided them?" Gregory asked.

"Oh, don't worry. I got a plan for that one, too. You all talked some sense into me, right? You told me to turn myself in so you could defend me. Wow. You all have such great ideas." Phoenix said while retrieving the request.

"If sense was so easily talked into a person, we would not be hearing about your exploits at the precinct or the crime scene." Miles signed the document. Phoenix handed him a paper with passwords, appearing pleased with his bluffing tactics. "Oh. Do me a favor, Wright. Tell me what happens when someone scores in soccer?"

"Uh? Why?" Phoenix's smile disappeared. "Hm. Soccer is the one with the tear shaped ball, right?"

"That is football."

"Oh, yeah. Soccer is football in most European countries. Or something. Why?"

". . . Let me rephrase the question. What happens when one scores 'bogey'?" Miles asked.

"Why are we talking about tennis all of a sudden?"

"Aha! Bogey is when a player ends the round with one stroke over par. In golf, not tennis or soccer."

"Oh. Okay? I don't watch sports."

"Evidently. You called 'bogey' a score in soccer, Wright. During your ridiculous play. Do you recall?"

"Oh. Oops. That's what this is about, huh? I made a mistake . . . but . . . who still fell for my solo, multi-acted performance? Who is the truly ridiculous one here?"

". . . I knew something was fishy, Wright; it was not that clever. I was just focused on relief that no one caught me." Miles bit his cheek.

"Someone did, Miles. You just weren't cued in!"

"Ah, yes. By Wright and his imaginary friends. How many different voices do you have scrambling around up there?"

"Only the few. Just be happy it's not just you who couldn't figure it out – I am talking about the precinct here – and put it to rest."

"Of course, Wright." Miles paused and felt nervous about letting him leave. ". . .Are you . . . sure you have to go? Is it dangerous? Can you turn yourself in the morning?"

"I will warn you right now, Miles. if you start crying, I will also start crying."

"How foolish. I am not going to cry over this. I am still just concerned for your wellbeing." Miles sat down at his desk, decompressing at last.

Phoenix leaned against the wall closest to him and answered, "The feeling is mutual. I would love to remain in denial over my circumstances and spend the night with, uh, the crew. But the optimal position for us both is for me to turn myself in and have the questioning phase over. Besides, if it is known that you willingly housed me with knowledge on the murder and my alleged involvement, it could tarnish your credibility. And they will be looking for ways to do that."

"Why are you uncharacteristically being the voice of reason?" Miles rolled his eyes, but knew Phoenix was correct. They already approached that line of legal acceptability and were playing hopscotch with it all night. If Phoenix did not turn himself in, and instead stayed with Miles that night, it would only add more to the growing list of grievances.

"I am when I have to be. I know. it's not how I want to be spending my night, trust me. I hope you can get some sleep, but if not, you can look through my laptop at other video evidence. There's a decent amount there, but you'll have to be careful with most of it. You'd probably already guessed, but footage on White's contracts would still be considered illegal to use because my investigation was not declared."

Phoenix did something to his phone and then left it with his possessions.

Miles asked, "How were you planning on prosecuting, then? A lot of what you did would not be seen in decent light by the courts."

"PI work doesn't have to be declared in the same way as an open investigation does. I was a sanctioned mole, really. There's enough probable cause surrounding Bluecorp because of a string of recent events which made it A-OK. . . .Those anonymous testimonies were going to be a large part of my play, too. Those were obtained legally and could be used accordingly."

"They could have claimed you were making these stories up." Miles said.

"Once word got out that White was being tried legitimately, a lot of those testimonies would be taken by their author – a name to a claim. Any good argument is comprised of three things – ethos, logos, pathos. The key elements to any persuasive argument. The human element – the one where many start to confirm the testimonies and have the protection of the herd – would be an emotional appeal. Logically, if that many people were stepping forward, one would have to look passed the smoke and mirrors and see a pattern of misery. If anything happened to them, then the public eye would be acutely aware of it. And lastly, the credibility of White's outward persona would be dismantled. That's when I could use this . . ."

Phoenix handed Miles a list of names. "These are people who have committed suicide in the last decade and also have blackmail extortion ties with Bluecorp. Of course, I may have missed some names along the way. After White's mental health was on the line, I would have read him these names."

There are a lot of names. Knowing that many people were dead because of his actions and then have it read back to him would be devastating.

Phoenix dug out a few bus tickets from his pocket, "I don't know if it will be important, but . . . the 5th, 6th, and 7th, I was out of town. I went to a village 2 hours from here. They were crowning the next Master."

"Master?"

"Kurain. I have some loose ties to that village. I wanted to be there for the next Master, even if I'm considered an outsider. She helped me through some things and I consider her to be a close ally."

"But she is called 'Master'? This is that reservation network that your mother – ah . . . never mind." Miles remembered learning something like that from Faine, but did not know if it was acceptable to talk about.

"My mom's home environment, yeah. I didn't go to the village she grew up in this time, but it's the central village of that system."

My relationship with my own Father is optimal . . . But Phoenix is the complete opposite with his, and for good reason. Miles asked. "Do you mind talking about your Mother or would you rather avoid it?" He had no idea how one would approach a person who had a loved one perish from horrid circumstances.

"I do not mind talking about her."

"And your Father?" Miles had a lot of questions about that still.

". . . Hmm. I guess. I'd rather have him addressed as something less important, though. Sperm donor might be a bit too crude for your liking, though, but the sentiment is there."

"I will – uh – avoid asking questions about him. For now." Miles looked over at his own father, talking with Ray. Larry and Missile passed out a while ago – it was late and the 11th had rolled into the 12th. I could never envision harboring sentiments like that about Father. To have such a colossal failure of a paternal figure is beyond what I can imagine, and I do not know what to do with it.

"Hey, Miles. Do me a favor, okay?" Phoenix said.

"Oh? Yes, what is it?"

". . . Never apologize for having him. Okay?" Phoenix was looking at Gregory as well. He must have guessed what Miles thought again. Miles gripped his pant legs then nodded in agreement. He felt that note he placed in his pocket, the one with Phoenix's handwriting on it, and became at ease with how the situation unfolded.

Raymond came over and asked in a gentler tone than he had that evening, "Hey. You were wanting to go to the detention center tonight, right?"

"Yeah."

. . .No. . .

"Is there something that you did to stall out the police following up on Miles' car?" Raymond inquired.

"Yes." Phoenix nodded, "I will let him know that we are done."

"Ah. No wonder we went through this undisturbed for so long. You're a prepared adversary, alright." Raymond joked.

"Well, I do have connections . . . Speaking of connections, I'm a bit curious as to what all you dug up on me."

"I think I'll keep that to myself." Ray retorted and then asked, "How do you plan on getting to the station?"

"Since we got here, a 'friend' of mine has lent several of his troops to patrol this lot. If White comes within a distance of this place, he will be arrested on the spot. One of those guys will escort me. You all should stay here for your own safety."

"You weren't gonna let us get hit by this maniac, were you?" Raymond asked, "I feel kinda bad for our initial distrust of you."

"No worries. You'll have more reasons to distrust me later on."

"Oh-ho! I don't doubt it! . . . Yeah. I think Mr. Edgeworth is right about you . . ."

"Hmm? What did he say about me?" Phoenix asked.

"Nothing. Don't worry about it. You should get going, prosecutor. Your specially prepared quarters await you."

"How's the room service? Terrible, I bet."

"Intrusive, even." Raymond completed the exchange and Phoenix prepared to depart.

"Can you do a few things during tomorrow's trial?" Phoenix asked Ray. "Can you find out if Ruby has a way to prove she was not at the apartments that afternoon? Also, I clocked in as Verrier at Bluecorp. You'll need to establish that alias . . . Ruby was out of town on a job, and White and I were at Bluecorp. They have no way to prove anything happened before 5:00 PM, but you need a counter in case they do try that move." Phoenix requested.

"Yup. Will do. Tomorrow should go over smoothly for you, Mr. Wright." Raymond nodded. There was a knock on the office's front door. Gregory felt unease when he stood up to consider his options.

". . . I will go check." Phoenix said. As soon as he looked down the hall and saw the face, he reassured, "It's my ride." Phoenix let in the person, who seemed agitated at best. His hair was a shade of blond, also spiked up similar to Phoenix's, but not as profoundly. The blond tips went up, and resembled wolf ears, while Phoenix's black hair went out and resembled more of a bird's. His clothes were primarily black and he had a coat with a fluffy trim.

"Heya boss." Phoenix laughed.

"Save it. I can't believe I went along with this plan of yours." He grumbled. Phoenix moved back to the plush and pulled out an envelope.

"You did it for this, remember? Thanks for stalling the police for me, sir. Fair trade."

"Right. And I'm taking you in with chains." He pulled out a pair of handcuffs.

"Aw! Sir! You've been waiting to do that since we met, haven't you?" Phoenix flirted, then he raised his hands, "I don't know if those would work on a cast. Besides, haven't you forgotten? I can slip out of those if I really wanted to."

"You need a ball gag, too. It would stop you from yipping at me, pup. If you know what's best for you, you'll come with me nice and easy. No antics."

Miles stood up and asked, "Who is this, Phoenix?"

"Oh. I should have known." Phoenix's boss stared at Miles, "You went and sniffed yourself out a pretty boy."

"Pretty boy?" Miles repeated.

Phoenix moved between the desks and said, "Hey! I didn't sniff him out, he sniffed me out. Completely different. Miles, this is the team lead – Agent Shi-Long Lang."

"Just Lang will be fine. Before you get too heavily involved with this animal, you should know that he has a bite to go with that bark. Most idiots just yap."

"I am multi-talented. Now. You will keep your agents around this office, right? I don't want anything to happen to my saviors." Phoenix asked. Miles noticed Phoenix was looking at the shredder. If Lang threatened anything, Phoenix was prepared to destroy whatever it was he collected for Lang.

"Hah! Sure, I guess. Are these attorneys going cage that unruly beast for you?" Lang asked.

"I wanted to do it myself, but clearly, that isn't possible. Well. I guess it's time to be arrested, huh?" Phoenix joked and brought the envelope with him.

"You are his boss? And you are okay with arresting him like this?" Miles asked.

"Why wouldn't I be? It's up to you fancy, delicate attorneys to have a safe discussion on the who the killer is. My job is to make arrests. If you can't free this pup, then I'm out a subordinate." Lang shrugged. "My ancestor has a saying that sums it up – 'those who bask in the sunlight too long become prey for the predator.'"

"Yeah. I did take a long time with this. It's not my fault there were so many roadblocks. Oh. You know that one homeland project you asked me about? And I wasn't sure if I wanted to take it. We can discuss it. I think I want to stay home, after all." Phoenix said.

'Homeland Project'?

"Well, I owe you, pretty boy. Seems like Wright still has a one tracked mind. . . If you aren't a murderer, I'd be glad to discuss it with you." Lang said. "We also need to discuss your methods. Now, I'm all for a go-getter, but . . . 'Those who seek unneeded attention often find their peril instead.'"

"Is that like the American saying, 'He who stirs the shit, first licks the spoon?" Phoenix asked.

". . . Don't make this worse for yourself, pup."

"Sorry, sir. So? Handcuffs? Is that what we're trying?"

"Say goodnight to your pretty boy. All I have to say is good luck tomorrow." Lang kept an ornery smile on him while Phoenix wrapped up his farewells.

"You are safe with this man, right?" Miles had no intention on trusting Lang.

Phoenix did, though, and said, "Oh sure. Lang bares his fangs a lot, but he's a good guy at heart. We just deal with a lot of criminals, so . . . he can be crabby."

"Hmm." Miles was still not convinced.

"I will be fine with him. Unlike the precinct, I know Lang. He and I have a lot in common – he's just mad because I chose to be a prosecutor. He still hasn't forgiven me for that one." Phoenix assured.

"Why would he care about that?" Miles asked.

"I'll explain it later. Tomorrow, maybe, if all goes well. Get some rest, Miles." Phoenix said.

". . . I better see you tomorrow." Miles demanded, folding his arms and then eying Lang again.

"Don't worry, pretty boy. I'll make sure nothing happens to him. And my men will make sure nothing happens to you. We have enough on White to make an arrest, so if he come on this property, he'll be damning himself."

"That is reassuring," Gregory said. "We will see you in a few hours, Phoenix. It was a pleasure meeting you, Agent Lang."

"Ah, refreshing. Manners. The pleasure is mine, Mr. . ."

"Edgeworth." Gregory nodded.

"Mr. Edgeworth. Well, come on, pup. I have my own investigation to see to."

Phoenix went with him – Lang decided not to use the handcuffs after all. It was probably a good choice, as Phoenix was a excited at the thought, for reasons Miles did not understand.

Notes:

I think I am going to not write in the court session - like Investigations, most of the truth is learned outside of the court. I am going to use this recipe as well. It would be a rehash of the same details and I think most of the points are now cleared up (as far as what happened with the murder).

But I will write out an outline and see if there are elements I want to add in. Obviously, there's a couple of witnesses and White himself (the breakdown) but It would be similar to cannon.