"Trial in the case of the People versus Ema Skye is back in session."

"Ready for the defense, Your Honor."

"Ready for the prosecution, Your Honor."

"Very well. As I recall, Detective Gumshoe was on the stand. Is there any further cross-examination, Mr. Wright?"

I shook my head.

"No, Your Honor." I'd like to keep at least some of my dignity intact.

"Very well. The prosecution calls its next witness, Detective Randall Bartlett."

Bartlett was tall and skinny, with long, gangling arms and legs, a bowl-cut cap of black hair, and a narrow, pointed goatee. With his sallow complexion, bowed-back posture, and off-white lab coat he looked more like a banana than a pear.

"Witness, your name and occupation?"

"Randall Bartlett. I'm an investigator with the forensics department."

"Tell us about the incident."

He swallowed, his prominent Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

"After the police received the call from the Airway Express conductor, the dispatcher paged the available detectives. I called in and took the case, then met the train when it reached the airport. I let Detective Gumshoe into the first-class car, then we went to the crime scene. I recognized Hermann Bosc at once; we'd worked together in forensics for several years. Detective Gumshoe searched the body, and he gave me the evidence that he found--a 9mm automatic pistol and a pair of surgical gloves--for testing."

"Tell us about the gun, first."

"Why is it you prosecutors are always so interested in weapons? Guns, knives, blunt instruments...it's always weapons this and weapons that. Don't you have any respect for--"

"Detective Bartlett! Just answer the question!" squealed Payne.

Hm. Looks like this guy and Payne don't get along. Maybe I can use that?

"All right, all right. I made ballistics tests on the gun and verified that it had fired the bullet the autopsy surgeon found in Bosc's body. I compared the powder residue on Bosc's coat with the shells loaded in the gun and also found it consistent. I checked the gun for fingerprints but didn't find any."

"I see. Now, is there a reason why you didn't find prints on the gun?"

"Definitely. The gloves were--"

"Hold it!" I shouted. "The witness was testifying about the gun, but now he's started to talk about the gloves."

"Um...yes, it did sound that way," agreed the judge. "So?"

"So, we've had a lot of testimony from him so far, and I think I should be able to cross-examine him on it before he starts giving new testimony." Not to mention before I forget what it was he said!

"Objection! You get to cross-examine him after he testifies! He's not done yet!"

"Objection! He's moving on to an entirely different testimony now. I have the right to cross-examine on each phase of the testimony."

"I think that's the law, Mr. Payne. If it wasn't, Mr. Wright wouldn't get to say anything for quite some time. We want to be fair and balanced here."

I wasn't quite sure that was the point of being fair, but hey, if it worked, who was I to complain?

"Mr. Bartlett, let's start at the beginning. You let Detective Gumshoe into the first-class car, so you beat him to the airport?"

"The forensics department's motto this month is 'Don't let the scene grow stale.' But that's not the real reason." He grinned toothily. "I just got on the train in the first-class car. Detective Gumshoe wasn't paying attention to that stuff."

"And I'm sure his salary evaluation will reflect the fact," Payne threatened.

Ema scribbled something down on her pad.

"Note to self: prosecutors are very cost-conscious."

I don't think that's quite it...

"Let's just move things along, shall we? I'd like to deliver my verdict by lunchtime."

"Yes, Your Honor." Good grief.

I collected myself and turned back to Bartlett.

"Now, about the murder weapon, Mr. Bartlett...Was this the victim's gun?"

He shook his head, making his bangs flap back and forth.

"We ran a check on it, but didn't find anything positive. The gun was turned in to the police on one of those trade-back programs they have for street kids."

"So the gun was in police custody?"

"Objection!" Payne shouted, right on cue. "The defendant has been training to become a scientific investigator. In the course of this, she took many classes with the forensics department and would have many opportunities to abstract the weapon. These guns turned in to these 'trade-back' programs are sent to forensics to check their ballistics against unsolved crimes before they are destroyed."

Ema tapped her pencil against her lip.

"Shouldn't it be harder than that to just steal a gun from the Police Department, Mr. Wright?"

"I don't have a whole lot of confidence in them, but yeah..." Going with Ema's idea, I asked Bartlett, "So do you think it really was Detective Bosc who brought the gun? It was in his pocket, after all."

"I hardly think so. In the first place, Bosc died instantly, as you can see if you check that autopsy report, so it obviously wasn't he who put the gun in his pocket after the shooting."

That autopsy report just keeps coming back and biting me, I groaned inwardly.

"Besides that, why would Bosc bring a gun to the killer?"

"He might not have known that he was doing that."

Bartlett shook his head.

"No, no, that's overlooking the significance of the fingerprint evidence."

I slammed my hands down on the desk.

"You just said there weren't any fingerprints on the gun!"

"Exactly."

"Um...I don't follow."

Bartlett leaned forward on the stand, propping his elbows up and steepling his fingertips, which he proceeded to drum together.

"It's a matter of scientific logic. That gun was found completely free of prints. However, we know that the gun was handed in at a police 'trade-back' program. At the very least it would have the prints of the person who gave it back to the police. More likely, it would have several sets of prints--probably smudged and worthless--because the gun was not 'evidence' in a crime until now, so its owner would have had no reason to wipe it clean of prints. Since we know the killer wore gloves during the actual crime, the only reason she would have to wipe the prints was that she handled the weapon prior to the crime."

"You keep saying 'she.' It sounds to me like you're biased against the defendant!" I snapped, falling back on the old trial law adage: If the law is against you, argue the facts; if the facts are against you, pound the table and shout like hell.

"I wouldn't say 'biased,' Mr. Wright. That implies a personal motive. I pride myself on being guided only by the evidence. My belief in this defendant's guilt is based solely upon conclusive, decisive evidence."

Why doesn't our side ever get any decisive evidence?

"I'd say the time has come for the next phase of your testimony," Payne suggested. "Go on, Detective."

"Right. Now, about these gloves."

He took that drumming-fingers posture again, which I figured was his Wise Man of Science lecture pose. It'd have worked better with white hair and a decent beard.

"The gloves are the absolute, decisive evidence in this case. They're thin rubber surgical gloves, the kind used by doctors, and also by the Police Department. We use them so we don't contaminate a crime scene with our fingerprints, skin cells, and so on. In this case, the killer used the gloves for the same reason, to handle the gun, the body, and other elements of the crime scene."

"Objection! You just testified that the police use these gloves in their line of work. Detective Bosc was a forensics investigator like yourself." I speared my finger at Bartlett. "How do you know those gloves weren't the victim's? They might have nothing to do with the murder!"

He didn't even flinch.

"Actually, there's three things to connect them directly to this case. First off, Mr. Wright, in the forensics department, we always use fresh gloves from our field kit for each investigation, and they are disposed of when used. Even someone like Bosc wouldn't carry used gloves stuffed in his pocket. Secondly, I tested the gloves in the lab. They tested positive for gunshot residue."

I, on the other hand, flinched big-time.

"G-g-g-gunshot residue?"

"Traces of powder and other chemicals expelled when a weapon is fired. The expanding gases push them in every direction inside the gun, and out through every gap. You can't fire a weapon without leaving GSR behind, Mr. Wright, not unless you somehow build a gun that is completely airtight except for the barrel. In this case, the gloves absorbed the GSR so no traces would be left on the murderer's hands."

I blinked in surprise as my brain slowly caught up to these new developments.

"Okay, but if the gloves absorbed all this...GSR...then you can't prove who was wearing them! There would be no matching residue on the defendant's hands."

Payne began to giggle again.

Uh oh. Not good.

"Third," Bartlett continued, not even acknowledging that I'd interrupted his spiel, "I found Ms. Skye's fingerprint on the inside of the right middle finger of the gloves, proving beyond all doubt that she was the one who wore them."

"B-but you don't know that she was wearing the gloves when the shot was fired," I countered, taking a lesson from Edgeworth. He was always using proof of the time element to shoot down my theories.

"Of course I do, Mr. Wright. Didn't I just say that I only testify to what I can prove with evidence?"

Von Karma must have loved this guy.

"If anyone other than Ms. Skye had worn the gloves after she did, the print would have been destroyed. Fingerprints are created by the residue of skin oils left on objects. There's no way a second person could have fit the glove tightly over his or her finger the way surgical gloves fit and not have badly smudged the print."

He punched his right fist into his palm.

"There's no doubt but that she wore those gloves while she fired the shot!"

Ema gave a little yelp, while the spectators burst into conversation.

"It isn't true, Mr. Wright!" she said, grabbing at my arm. "I didn't shoot him!"

"Then how do you explain this evidence?"

"I...I don't know." She hung her head. "Scientifically speaking, he's absolutely right. The evidence is conclusive. I just don't understand it."

"I don't understand it, either. There's something more going on here."

"Order! Order!" demanded the judge, and eventually got what he wanted.

"Your Honor, the prosecution requests to submit evidence of the scientific tests at this time, including photographs of the developed print and the defendant's fingerprint record. You'll note that they have been counterchecked and the results verified by Detective D'Anjou, so that there is no possibility of forgery."

"So admitted; they will be added to the Court Record."

"Now, Mr. Bartlett, I know you prefer to testify about evidence, but there is one more matter for you to bring out--unless Mr. Wright has any cross-examination at this time?" Payne waggled his eyebrows at me over his glasses.

Yeah, it went so well last time I did that.

"Um, no, not just yet."

"Very well, then. Please tell the Court about Detective Bosc and his relationship to the defendant."

Bartlett shook his head.

"I wouldn't call it a 'relationship,' Mr. Payne."

"But there's a 'connection,' isn't there? Between Bosc, the defendant...and the SL-9 Incident?"

Oh, yeah. Payne said something like that in his opening statement.

"The SL-9 Incident was a case that happened two years ago. Just last week, it was revealed that Lana Skye, a detective at the time, had planted forged evidence at a crime scene. Lana Skye is the defendant's sister. Apparently because of the evidence-forging, Lana was blackmailed for two years, and now faces criminal charges not only over the original crime but also the acts she was blackmailed into doing."

"Exactly! Two years of suffering under a blackmailer's thumb, forced to engage in corrupt acts, and now facing a jail sentence! What sister wouldn't want to avenge that?"

"Hold it!" I slammed my hands down on the desk. "That may be true, but you know as well as I do, Payne, that the party responsible has already been arrested after being exposed in Lana's trial! Where does Bosc come into it?"

"All evidence discovered by the police is tested by the forensics department," Payne replied. "The victim was the scientific investigator assigned to SL-9."

"I know you're supposed to speak kindly of the dead," Bartlett said, "but the truth is that Detective Bosc was sloppy in his work. Second-rate! Any competent scientific investigator should have discovered the forgery right away. From what I've seen, the defendant could have done it, even though she's only in training."

"Thank you, Mr. Bartlett!"

"Ema, now many not be the best time to be thanking the prosecution's key witness."

"Oh! Sorry."

"Now do you understand, Mr. Wright?" Payne squealed. "Hermann Bosc could have saved Ema's sister all that, if only he did his job as well as Ema herself could have! Since he had no 'guilty intent,' he wasn't being charged in the corruption case, so Ema had to resort to other means to insure he paid for his lapse! She deliberately lured and shot him, thinking she'd be safely out of the country before anyone would discover her involvement!"

Oh, boy.