Summary:
The trial takes its next step and Miles needs to cross-examine Yanni. Before that, though, he waits for the trial to resume.
Yanni
Friday August 12th 2016 – 12:17 PM
Miles checked his watch. In another 13 minutes, the trial would resume, but Phoenix had not yet awakened. Miles would not disturb him, he decided; having Phoenix there would probably be a distraction, anyway. Or, maybe he would be helpful, considering Phoenix's extensive background. As Miles contemplated returning alone, Phoenix sat up from the couch and dug in his coat pocket.
"Morning, Wright." Miles greeted. The gesture was not returned; Phoenix did not register Miles had said anything as he dropped a notepad on his lap and then found a pen. He wrote something down, took Fiona's phone from his pocket, and pushed all three items to the floor, before slumping back down into the couch.
"What are you doing?" Miles asked, picking them up, but Phoenix was already out cold. The notepad had four numbers written down: 5341. Fiona's phone had a four-digit number lock, he noticed as the screen lit up in his hand.
No. I am not entertaining that notion.
Miles felt an intense heartbeat, for no reason other than his principles were being tested by Wright. There was no such thing as magic, or premonitions, or whatever other paranormal explanation existed for predicting a number for a screen lock. But his thumbs proceeded to enter those numbers.
5…
This is absurd.
3….
There is no way this combination is going to work.
4…
Why am I trying this?
1….
The screen unlocked and it left Miles flabbergasted. Miles practically yelled, "How!?" But perhaps it did not matter how – only that the method worked, and Miles gladly took advantage of it. The phone had a number with no name as her last texted contact. Ruby was just below it. Naturally, Miles checked out the unlisted person first.
The text left off at what appeared to be their final exchange.
-August 10th 2016-
?: Ah. Some sense.
?: Tell me who Wright is.
Her: Call me. I got some time to spare.
That meant that Phoenix was correct. She truly did willingly give White information. He scrolled to the top of their exchanges.
-August 2nd 2016-
There was a picture attachment, sent by the 'unknown number', of a small house, 1 bed 1 bath, devastated by a fire. The house was in no way livable, as it burned most of the dwelling to ash.
?: I found you.
Her: That was you.
Her: Of course it was you.
?: Don't misconstrulate me. I am just sending my deepest condolenses for your situation.
Her: Fuck you.
?: There's that temper all three you girls have. Or, had.
Her: Fuck. You.
?: You and your sis are too much. Take care. While I find the other Frost that got away.
Her: What are you planning?
-August 8th 2016—
?: It's been a few days. How are you?
Her: I can get her to back off. Please just leave us alone.
?: No can do, amiga.
Her: I am sure there is something you want.
?: I don't need your money, honey. What's there from stopping me to ending this myself?
Her: What if I tell you she's not working alone? You let us go and you can have him.
?: As if I can't take care of some lowbrow dog.
Her: I got info on him. You play nice and it's yours.
?: The district police and prosecutioners are all mine, dear. Infos on my side. But thanks for the tidbit, doll. I'll stomp out the worm on my own.
-August 9th 2016—
?: You haven't been home. Guess its hard to live in shambles.
?: Hope you had insurance.
?: Where's little miss run off to?
Her: None of your damned business.
?: Probably with ruby. Once I see her, I'll have my men follow her. Then the two of you are going to have to come to terms with me.
?: Speechless, eh? Just the way I like my women.
-August 10th 2016—
?: Hows my girls doing today?
Her: He's going to move on you soon.
?: What, that dog?
?: as if I, the most superflendous creature in this damnable country, am afraid.
?: I'll be king of the world soon enough.
Her: Good luck with that.
?: Dear. I hold all the cards.
Her: No. I don't think you do.
?: Oh, but I do!
?: Make sure to say hi to ruby for me.
?: and glad you made it from the courthouse.
Her: How do you know where I was?
?: The right pressure in the right people gets results.
?: That info you got. Have it ready for me, k?
Her: No. I refuse.
?: Look out the window. You'll see an officer pass by your roach invested abode. Better get me that proof.
?: Or I'll have him arrest you for threatening me. 3C, right?
?: You sisters are hard to track. But I have you on house arrest now.
?: And when miss ruby comes back, I'll pay you both a visit.
?: And don't try to call her. Place your cell on the balcony so the officer can collect it.
Her: ruby is gone for the evening. It's just me. What do you want, exactly?
?: That's a damn shame.
?: I want the three of us to have a grandatious old time.
?: But, there's someone in the way. Tell me more about this Wright fellow you're living with.
Her: If I do that, will you let me go?
?: Why is there a noise complaint on you?
?: Did you do something you'll regret?
Her: I had to get into the darkroom somehow. Now. Terms.
Her: What do I have to do to survive?
?: Ah. Some sense.
?: Tell me who Wright is.
Her: Call me. I got some time to spare.
Miles was not sure what to do about this information – White put some amount of pressure on the otherwise passive Fiona. She would not have returned if White did not force her to. Using Wright as a negotiation tool angered Miles, but he could almost see why she did that.
Again, these people were not at all on the same page. They all kept secrets and they all had different and seemingly conflicting goals. Wright should have known better than to partner up with these people – although by his own admittance, he mostly just did not want Ruby to slip and make the wrong move, thus jeopardizing all that he worked toward. Little did Wright know, it was the other sister he should have worried about.
Then there was Purohit. Why would he hand this over, knowing this conversation existed? Perhaps the prosecutor already pieced it together himself but was obligated to try the case as the detectives saw it. Or perhaps he had more nefarious reasons to hand it over – casting doubt or infighting. Regardless, the end result would be the same – White would have to come to trial and stand as the accused.
Miles tore off the page as to not forget the digits and pocketed the phone. Miles noticed other scribblings as he went to slide the notebook into Wright's coat pocket. Miles had his own issues to deal with; the time crunch was against him. Yet there was an inquisitiveness, borne from something disreputable, emitting from within.
In essence, Miles wanted to snoop.
He flipped the page over, permitting one quick pursue, and noticed it was a map. Or the parody of one. There was a curvy line toward the edge, dotted with blackened circles, labeled as W.A, W.B, W.C and so forth. Phoenix also named the curved edge as 'Western Shorefront'. A key to the bottom explained the distances between each point in proximity to a couple of different neighborhoods.
"Shorefronts, hmm. W – as in warehouse, most likely. Something illegally imported, then?" Miles wondered aloud. He slipped the notebook into Phoenix's coat pocket, which alerted the previously sleeping man. He grabbed Miles' wrist in pure shock and frightfulness – but just as quickly released his hold once their eyes met. "You dropped this . . ." Miles said in a fluster, once the sequence of events dissipated and he was allowed to remark without his wrist being snapped like a twig. Wright had a large hand and a strong grip – something Miles hadn't taken notice of before.
Phoenix sat up and looked at the notebook and pen discarded in his lap. He mumbled, "Sorry . . ." Then pocketed it himself, before raising an eyebrow. "Did I write something down?"
"Ye-Yes. You did. The unlock code for Fiona's phone, which I believe you said you did not have access to?"
"Oh. Is that right? I must have . . . erm. Known it after all." Phoenix shrugged, glossing over the how part. Phoenix looked for the phone, but must have realized he removed it from his pocket. "What was on the phone?"
"What you expected, then some." Miles said, ignoring it for now. As far as everyone's accounts went, Fiona would never voluntarily give Wright her passcode. However, Wright having preexisting knowledge made more sense than him mystifying it, however marginally.
"May I see it?" Phoenix asked politely. Miles obliged, then checked the time. "I have to go back now."
"Back? Oh! The trial!" Wright said, seeming as to have forgotten about it, then checked his own watch. "I was asleep for how long?"
Miles assured, "Relax. It's fine. I have everything under control."
"Okay. I can check this out at the trial." Phoenix stood up.
"You're coming with?"
"Yeah? Why not? I'll sit right behind you, in the stands, so I can toss paper airplanes at you if I get bored. Or have an idea."
"I would expect better conduct out of you." Miles warned, leaving his chair and then the room.
"Are you serious? You've met me, right?" Phoenix said as he traveled behind Miles.
"Unfortunately." Miles answered, keeping his eyes forward and hiding a smirk.
"What's this 'unfortunately' business? How's my hair?"
"A disheveled mess, much like its owner."
"Rude. I'm going to go find a bathroom to fix this."
"I will be at the trial, Wright. Do not throw paper at me, or there will be consequences."
"That just makes it even more tempting. I like 'consequences', just so you know."
Miles shook his head, "You would like that, wouldn't you?" They split off at that point and Miles found his spot at the defendant's chair. Ruby was brought in and she waved Miles over.
She spoke in a hushed voice, "Pops and his friend went back to the crime scene to look for something for me. Pops said you're in charge."
"Oh? What are they were looking for?"
". . . I never let Wright use recordings on me, but that doesn't mean I didn't set up my own. There was a bug in the hallway light. No one woulda thought to look for it. If White said anything to her, it would be captured on that."
"Oh. How . . . lovely." Disastrous. She would hear that conversation on how Fiona sold Wright out. This secret is going to come out, no matter what we do. Then again, if White's voice does come through indistinguishable, it might be worth it.
"You don't look too happy about that, Red. Somethin' wrong?"
"Once we prove White was there, all else will come together." He answered and returned to the stand. By himself, he thought. That would be a first . . . but he was up for the task. Except that Phoenix took Gregory's place – with his hair slicked back instead of out, the sharp spikes resting on his shoulders. He wore those glasses but said, "Don't worry. They aren't recording."
"What are you doing?" Miles insisted.
"Standing trial with you. I didn't see your dad and I thought you might need the extra morale boost." His coat was laying neatly on a nearby chair, and his own suit was buttoned up and straightened out. The cast on his wrist stood out and Miles wondered how Phoenix managed to comb himself over with only one hand. The Judge squinted at him and had issue with it.
"Um. I am sorry. But who are you?"
"I am a legal aid. Taking notes. Don't mind me." Phoenix lied.
"Hmm. I do have some mind of you, actually. Let's see some paperwork." Miles shot him a dangerous look and felt his fingers burrow into the table, but Phoenix brought up a document for the Judge. "Oh. Okay. You're a student, then?"
"Yup."
"Hmm. Well, I will allow it then. Though it is unusual for an aid to be paired with an understudy . . . Wright. That name is familiar, somehow. Who are you, again?"
"That gavel of yours is magnificent! Is that American Cherry I spot?"
Wright, what the hell are you doing!?
"Oh! You have sharp eyes! Why, yes! this gavel was gifted to me by a famous handcrafter in the late 70's."
"And that spiral wrap must be tigerwood. Very honest colors – your talented friend must have had your personality down. I hear that you are one of the fairest judges in the land."
"Oh, stop it! You flatter me too much!"
"It isn't flattery, Your Honor – I am speaking my mind. For your question earlier, I am a registered prosecutor, but I think it is fair that we all learn the many rules of the court. And I would like to view it from the defense's point of view. It isn't unprecedented – many other great attorneys will take either side of the court."
"You have a good point. I'll allow it."
Miles heard Ruby mutter, "Blasted conman."
Phoenix returned to Miles with a victorious smile and left him to only sigh and keep his eyes forward.
"Where did you get that paperwork?" Miles wondered.
"I requested it ahead of time. Before I dozed off." He answered.
". . .Ah."
"Where's Ghost?" Phoenix asked, noticing his hard work was neatly arranged in a boring old briefcase.
"I wasn't going to bring that thing to court."
"Good thinking. Don't want the enemy to know where I store my stash."
"The enemy, Wright? And don't call the evidence your 'stash'. That leaves a very misleading impression."
Phoenix ignored him and changed topics, "I read that text message exchange, by the way. I tried to find a playback between her and White, but she didn't record it."
"That might not be a problem," Miles answered.
"Hm?"
The Judge slammed his gavel, then admired the intricate work on it. Phoenix wormed his way into the Judge's mind and earned themselves some extra brownie points for team defense. Miles pondered the bribery aspect of Phoenix's actions, but ultimately decided nothing was exchanged and could not count as an unlawfully act; but Wright certainly liked to push those boundaries.
"Ahem." The Judge cleared his throat, "Is the prosecution and his witness ready for testimony?"
"We are, Your Honor." Purohit said. Yanni took the stand with the pink bird, happily perched on his shoulder, stealing the entire court's attention.
"Um. Are pets allowed?" The Judge asked, hoping someone would give him an answer.
"It's a support animal, Your Honor." Mr. Purohit said. "The witness would be too stressed to speak without her."
"Can I request that we cross-examine the parrot?" Phoenix asked.
"No! Don't you dare!" Miles warned, causing Phoenix to stifle a giggle. This is a nightmare.
"Squawk! Purple suit of diamonds! Squawk! Poor girl. Poor girl. Squawk!" Polly screeched.
"Can the witness keep his parrot from vocalizing during this period, please?" The Judge requested.
"She isn't squawking. She's saying the word 'squawk'. Isn't that charming?" Wright said. Miles merely rolled his eyes and wondered why people – in this case, people and their pet bird – went out of their way to be headaches. A normal witness to examine would be nice right about now.
"Just wait 'til we get to White. That's not going to be any better," Phoenix answered, as if reading Miles' mind. "Oh. You didn't say that? Sorry, must have guessed it. My bad."
"That was a little more accurate than a guess." Miles said.
The Judge called for order once more, "We are a lively crowd today. But save it for later. Mr. Purohit, if you would please."
"Name and profession, please, witness."
"Polly the Parrot! Squawk!"
"Yanni Yogi. I run a pasta shop down by the lake. Oh. I mean. I run a rental boating down by the lake. I always wanted to serve food, but I left the stove turned on and fell asleep on the couch. Next thing I knew, the smoke detector went off and –"
"Fire in the hole! Squawk!"
Phoenix laughed, "Deep breaths, Miles. I promise this is okay."
". . . For the record, his name is Yanni Yogi and he rents out boats on Gourd Lake." Purohit said. "Mr. Yogi, please testify to the court on what you witnessed. Please refrain from speaking off topic."
Yanni said, "Well . . . It all started when Pretty Polly and I were playing a game of cards. The smell of brownies caused her to get distracted and fly all around the room. She took her favorite spot on the curtain rod, and I looked out the window.
"A car. Purple. Unusual for this neighborhood. It would have gotten broken into for screaming, 'I'm purple and rich, please rob me.' But anyway. This man comes out of the car. I see him running up the steps. A purpose. My wife commented on the loud steps and I am just watching. Purple suit."
"Purple suit of diamond!" Polly squawked.
"Purple car. Purple hair. The only color was different was them diamonds along his torso. Bright blue diamonds. You know, I think I seen him on the television before. But anyway, he is banging loudly on the neighbor's door. Louder and louder. Then a crash! She screamed. Once or twice. Then he fled. Poor, poor girl."
"Poor girl! Poor girl! Squawk!"
Purohit shook his head, "A character out of fiction. Your Honor, can we move past this?"
"A man like that sounds familiar, though." The Judge said, "I can't put my finger on it."
"Well, well. To name the culprit or let more details come out before we do. Any thoughts?" Phoenix asked.
"Mr. Yogi's testimony was more coherent than I would have expected." Miles said.
"He did leave out something crucial, though. We should dig for that, right?" Phoenix suggested.
Something out? The car we can place at Phoenix's house and now at the crime scene.
"Don't overthink it Miles. Besides White, what else do we need to prove?"
"Ah. Of course. The murder weapon." Miles said. He was getting ahead of the details they needed to prove still.
"I do have a question for the witness," The Judge asked. Yanni, however, did not respond. "Hmm? Mr. Yogi?" The Judge asked gently.
Yanni's eyes were closed. Slowly, his head fell forward and the feeling must have jolted him back awake, "Huh! Go Fish!"
"No threes! Go Fish! Squawk!"
"Ah, drat! You never have any – oh. Why are there so many people in my house?" Yogi asked.
Purohit reminded gently, "You are in a court of law, Mr. Yogi. You are giving testimony and a question is being directed to you as such."
"Oh. Oh of course. Yes?"
"Take a good look at the girl in the chair to your right. Do you recognize her?" The Judge asked.
"Oh! It's Penny! How are you doing, my sweet girl! Did those college boys need another hard lesson from pops?"
"Nah, pops. I can handle my own." Ruby said. "Old man thinks I'm his daughter. According to Polly, though, they never – . . . well, you know how it goes."
Purohit shook his head, "And with that knowledge, can you truly pretend to acknowledge anything Mr. Yogi presents as fact? He has an overactive imagination, that is all."
"Hmm. Before we dismiss him altogether, I do have one thing to ask. Mr. Yogi. Did you see Miss Frost at the crime scene?"
"Who is Miss Frost? She sounds lovely."
"Er. Right. Did you see Penny at the crime scene?" The Judge corrected.
"Oh, no. Penny went off to college. Hadn't seen her since . . . uh. Since . . .that morning, when I waved her off."
"Parts of that is consistent, believe it or not." Miles said to both Phoenix and the court, "Ruby went out of town that day. You can see with this receipt that she stopped for a refill in Simi Valley at 4:12 PM on the day of the murder. She was approximately 41 minutes away from Los Angeles that day."
"Nice." Phoenix said.
"Well, that does give her an alibi." The Judge admitted.
"Objection . . ." Purohit said, "But Ruby was arrested after police response showed up within minutes of the call. Though she may have been in another city at 4:00 PM, she returned home that evening. It does not prove her not the murderer."
"But it does prove that Mr. Yogi's grasp on reality is not as fragile as you propose. He saw Ruby leave. And he saw a man in a purple car arrive that evening. Mr. Yogi then describes the man who exited the vehicle in consistently great detail. Those are very specific uniformities, Mr. Purohit."
"Ruby leaving is. The man is not. He only exists as your scapegoat and the illusory Bhaya in Mr. Yogi's visions. Do you have proof of such a man existing? Your Honor, I believe we brought Mr. Yogi on to prove the existence of the weapon Miss Frost used. Which he was unable to."
"He's fighting for that dismissal." Phoenix said. "I'd stay on the attack, if I were you."
"As if you needed to tell me that." Miles smiled. He would not underestimate the knowledge Purohit had, but it was clear he would not be throwing his case away. Fair enough – Miles had no intentions on losing. "Your Honor. Ruby Frost could not have discarded a weapon in the timeline presented. If she did, the detectives would have discovered it. We have yet to establish the murder weapon, that much is true. I believe that Mr. Yogi can point it out to us, though, with further questioning."
"The right to cross-examine still belongs to the defense. Though I will say, be gentle with him. He is of an unstable mind." The Judge said.
"Of course." I know what we need to ask, anyway. This should not take long.
Notes:
/Should not take long/ Proceeds to take a few chapters. hehe. whoops.
