AN: Howdy guys! I'm back with the first part of this trial! Thanks for reading, faving, following, and reviewing as always! Hope you enjoy!
April 15th, Time ?
My apartment
I was pretty annoyed; the damned sunlight woke me up when I didn't need to be up. I was going to go back to sleep, but figured I should check the time to know how many more hours I was getting in. Drowsily, I reached for my cell phone on the night stand and hit the button to active the screen. I froze. The time read 9:30 AM. The trial was at 10 AM.
"Fuckernutters!" I yelled jumping off the bed. I only had 30 minutes to get down the courthouse and 30 minutes to get my shit together. Luckily, the courthouse wasn't too far away; I had taken the time to map it out yesterday. However, I'd have to speed to make it there before the doors opened up.
I found my shoes lying on the floor and was putting them on as fast as I could. I had fallen asleep in my clothes, so that saved time. The bag of case related materials was leaning against the edge of the bed. I ran over and picked up my phone and checked my pockets. Yep, all the stuff was I needed was in em. I ran out of the door and took the elevator down. I really didn't have time to do personal hygiene stuff. If I showed up late the case was done; and I wasn't about that life. I put too much effort into get facts about this case and I would see it through to the end. There was no way I was going to forfeit like that. I didn't know how it'd pan out today, but I wouldn't give Shields the satisfaction of an easy win.
April 15th, 9:54 AM
District Courtroom No. 5, Hallway
I ran up the stairs huffing and puffing like I'd never done before. I had to run around trying to find the right hallway, which was a pain. But the adrenaline rush I was on was just unstoppable. I had nearly crashed into a few cars, blew through some red lights, and accidentally flattened one of my tires. I'd have to remind myself to fix it later. I was happy to be alive and not dead and on top of that I had a few minutes to spare. I could finally catch my breath.
"Lyn," began a familiar voice. "I hope you are prepared for today."
I nearly jumped out of my skin, placing a hand over my chest.
"M-M-Mr. E-Edgeworth! W-what are you doing here?"
"I came to watch as I do have some time to spare," Edgeworth smirked.
"Oh," I said. "Oh, that's just lovely."
My hero, idol, and inspiration was going to watch me. Expecting something. No pressure, no pressure at all.
Help.
"Is everything alright?" he asked with those gray eyes that seemed to stare into my soul.
"O-of course!" I squawked out. "Ahem. I'm just a little nervous, is all."
He tapped his temple with his index finger. "I see. You just need to relax your mind and focus."
(I can't exactly do that with you here watching my every move, Edgeworth.)
"I know this might be difficult to ask of you, but you're going to have to trust him."
"Huh? Him?" I blinked.
"The person on the other side of the room. You aren't enemies," he folded his arms tapping his fingers upon them. "You're looking for the same thing, remember that."
(I'd like to protest the enemies part.)
"Yeah, right..."
"You'll have to let go of the past, Lyn. What happened, happened and you can't change it...as unpleasant as it was."
What? What was he referring to? Let go of the past? From the sounds of it, it sounded like something bad happened to me. I wondered if it had anything to do with that case file I had found sitting on the desk in my office.
But just as I was going to ask, the bailiff came through the courtroom doors.
"Ms. Doom, it's time to start the trial."
Already? It was too soon. And I didn't have time to recollect myself properly either. I internally groaned.
"Good luck. I'll be watching from the gallery," the fancy pants prosecutor said coolly walking off.
"Thanks…" I muttered. I looked at the bailiff, nodded, and began my march through the double doors to what I acknowledged what could be my death.
April 15th, 10:00 AM
District Courtroom No. 5
I took my position on the right side of the room at the prosecution's bench. Me, a prosecutor, imagine that. It was practically laughable. It seemed to be so surreal. I sat my bag I had been lugging around with me on top of the polished wooden bench and opened it up. The documents and files were everywhere and out of place. Awesome. I'd have to sort those out when I got the chance. I sighed.
The inside of the courtroom was much larger than I expected. I looked around and everything was just, so official looking. The judge had taken his high seat, sitting down looking kind of stern. He pretty much looked like how he did in the games, bald and old with a mighty long gray beard. The only thing they didn't mention was how shiny his head was. Like, really shiny. I sort of wanted to polish it. Made me think of Mr. Clean.
I also noticed the chattering gallery. There were two sections of, one elevation on the left and right. It was packed and had more people than I would have wanted watching. I gave it a quick glance to avoid meeting Edgeworth's eyes as he was in the gallery directly across from me. His eyes made me nervous and I couldn't take any more of those looks. However, I did catch the eyes of the man standing across from me who had just waltzed in and he was looking serious. It was time.
The judge banged his gavel loudly.
"Court is now in session for the trial of Charlie Mann," he said in a gravely old man voice. "Is the defense ready?"
"The defense is ready," nodded Shields.
"Is the prosecution ready?"
"Uh...yeah. Yeah, the prosecution is ready," I said awkwardly.
The judge nodded.
"Your opening statement?"
Crap. I had completely forgot about that. I had been in such a hurry this morning I hadn't even considered the bullshit I'd make up for that. Why did I have to do it? Why couldn't the defense do it? All they got to do is say that they were ready. I looked around; everyone's attention was directed at me, staring at me as though I had a giant spotlight on me.
"The prosecution's opening statement is…" I was trying to come up with something. "Wait. Why the heck do I have to do it?"
"Well, it's procedure," started the judge surprised.
"Yeah, but you know, what is procedure really? Just a bunch of set guidelines and arbitrary rules we make up. It's no better than making boundaries for countries, all done at random. It really is silly, you know. " In my mind I was coming up with a statement as I spouted nonsense. I hoped the judge would buy it.
"Well, I suppose that's true, but in the court of law we follow some guidelines-"
"Yeah, I know what you're gonna say. That you gotta. Don't be a square. You should live life on the edge, Your Honor. Might be more fun that way," I smirked.
"On the edge? You mean like…taking an extra slice of pizza?"
(If that's your idea of living on the edge, sure?)
"Exactly," I nodded.
"If you don't mind, Your Honor, I'd like to get this show on the road," shrugged the attorney. "You can take more than your fair share later."
The judge shook his head. "You're right, Mr. Shields. Ms. Doom, the statement please."
Dammit. Foiled so soon. But perhaps I could bullshit my way through today since I was the prosecution. I mean, the judge took bullshit from the prosecution way better than the defense.
"...Right, sorry. Any who, the prosecution's open statement is simple: the defendant is guilty."
Everyone stared at me for what was an eternity. It was so quiet I could have heard pins dropping.
"….AND it will be established by, uh, decisive evidence and witness testimony!" I said a little too loudly.
"Is that so?" the judge closed his eyes. "Can you share the details of the case with court?"
"Uh, no. Not really."
The judge blinked. "Ms. Doom, what do you mean?"
"Oh...fuck me," I said exasperated, already sweating.
The judged gasped and looked at me disdainfully shaking his head.
"Ms. Doom! This is a court of law, please watch your language! I don't want to have to penalize you."
Whoops, I didn't mean to say either of those things out loud. Great, now they'd end up thinking I didn't know what I was doing. Okay, I didn't know what I was doing. It's not like I didn't know facts, but I just didn't know them well enough to say it in a clear and concise manner. It would take 20 minutes to explain, which would be good in the real world with a real opening statement, but oh no, not the Ace Attorney universe. Opening statements had to be freaking miliseconds. I should have just written the notes down on my hand. I did have some notes, but they were lost in my bag. Too many papers were everywhere and I wasn't going to bother looking. I was already looking bad enough.
"Sorry bout that, Your Honor. I honestly don't see the problem with it. Words are just words," I cleared my throat. "What I meant to say was, I'd prefer not to."
"But-"
"Shhhhhhhhhh. It's okay," I said fixing my glasses trying to play the whole situation off. "To explain the details of the case, I'll call a certain detective to the stand. So, uh, let's bring him up now!"
In a couple of minutes the bumbling detective had made his way to the witness stand. Well, this is where the battle would begin. And I was hoping his testimony wouldn't be that bad. Please.
(Okay, I got this…hopefully. Do it just like the games.)
"Witness, please state your name and occupation," I said as confidently as I could muster.
"Dick Gumshoe, homicide detective at the precinct," he said.
"Please explain to the court the details of this case and why the defendant's guilt is clear."
"Yes, sir!"
Witness Testimony
-The facts of this case are simple, pal!
-The victim was found on a meat hook in the meat room at Kum & Go.
-The autopsy report says he was killed between 8 AM and 11 AM .
-The murder weapon has the defendant's prints all over em, as well as the victim's blood.
-The defendant was seen fleeing the crime scene covered in blood.
-So you see, he's definitely guilty!
Detective Gumshoe was now standing at the witness stand grinning like an oaf very pleased with himself. From what I could tell, the testimony wasn't awful, but there was a lot he was leaving out. And I'd most likely have to fill in those blanks...
"Kum & Go? What exactly is that?" questioned the judge.
"A supermarket chain with an unfortunate name," I answered.
"Yeah, sounds like it. A place where you come and go, " the defense attorney smirked.
I rolled my eyes in an attempt to hide the fact I thought it was amusing.
"Well, it's what you do at supermarkets you come and go. I come and go frequently myself," said the judge.
I giggled. The judge looked at me funny. I promptly began to turn those giggles into coughs to throw him off.
"What was the victim's job?"
"Reed Booke was the store's deli clerk. People say he was the best meat slicer around," chuckled Gumshoe.
"I see," nodded the judge. "If that's the case, why has he in that room? Deli meat isn't the same as... real meat."
I bit my tongue to prevent myself from laughing. Jesus. I didn't know if I could keep myself together in this trial, let alone win it.
"Uh, well we're-"
"We'll get to it later. For now it's not important," I said cutting Gumshoe off because we didn't have a real answer for that.
"Very well, the defense may begin it's cross examination."
"Don't mind if I do," said Shields clapping his hands together in that weird fashion.
Cross Examination
-The facts of this case are simple, pal!
-The victim was found on a meat hook in the meat room at Kum & Go.
HOLD IT!
"That was a gross scene. Was that meat hook the cause of death?"
"No way! That's just what the criminal wanted us to think. The cause of death is right here in this autopsy report! It was blunt force trauma to the head."
The next thing I saw shocked me. I saw the autopsy report, not the tangible copy, but one up on a huge holographic screen.
(What the hell?)
I guessed that in Japanifornia they were technologically advanced. I was still confused on how they got a giant hologram to pop up like that, but whatever works, works. I couldn't place it, but it was reminding me of something.
-The autopsy report says he was killed between 8 AM and 11 AM .
HOLD IT!
"Who discovered the body?" he asked stroking his chin pathetically lacking in facial hair.
"The store manager, Woody Johnson did. Around 11: 15, he was the first one to phone the police."
"Is that right?"
Ugh, I knew where he was going. He was going to start saying that the store manager was involved. I'd have to stop him. And I needed to look cool why doing it, more importantly.
"Yep, got a problem with that?" asked Gumshoe.
"Discovering the body first is always a bit suspicious, don't you think?"
OBJECTION!
For some reason I ended up, not pointing, but rather doing the quiet coyote hand signal. That wasn't very cool, but I guessed I'd have to use it for now.
"If you're going to start implying things, Mr. Shields, you'll need evidence to substantiate your claims. The victim was manager's best worker, why would he want to kill him?"
He raised his hands up as if I was robbing him. "Woah, there Ms. Doomsday. Just a suggestion, nothing more-"
"Well, I suggest, you keep your suggestions to yourself until you can provide evidence," I said folding my arms.
Shields didn't say anymore after that.
(Yeah! I did something right!)
-The murder weapon has the defendant's prints all over em, as well as the victim's blood.
HOLD IT!
He moved on to press the next point. "If the murder weapon isn't the hook, then what is it?"
"Oh, that's easy! It's this," suddenly a big image of the butcher's knife popped up on the holographic screen. "It was found in the defendant's locker."
"Huh? There's no blood on the blade."
"Yes, that is odd," commented the judge.
"Not really," I said. "The victim died from blunt force trauma, not a knife wound."
Two sets of eyes widened in surprise.
"Well, that's a strange way to kill," blinked the judge.
"Indeed," I nodded.
Shields said nothing, but stared at Gumshoe intensely.
-The defendant was seen fleeing the crime scene covered in blood.
HOLD IT!
"What was Mr. Mann's condition at the time?"
"Uhh, from reports, they say he was completely out of it."
The attorney frowned, but said nothing else.
-So you see, he's definitely guilty!
OBJECTION!
"You should do best to tell your detective to stop using opinion in his testimony."
"Yeah, you got a point there," I turned to Gumshoe. "Don't do that."
"Sorry, sir it won't happen again."
"Happy?"
The defense attorney gave me a confused glance.
"Or do you have something else to say? Since that wasn't anything really."
He glared at me. "Your evidence isn't enough to convict, Charlie!"
"Really? You sure? We got prints on the murder weapon, he was seen leaving the crime covered in blood, and there was the added bonus of the crime having occurred in the meat room. That doesn't really make him look like an angel."
The judge nodded. "The evidence so far does support the prosecution's case. Mr. Mann seems awfully suspicious in my opinion..."
Shields was glaring me down. "Charlie didn't do it. I know that someone else must have!"
"Another person?" asked the judge.
"Charlie said he had been knocked out and woke up at the crime scene. Whoever knocked him unconscious must be the real culprit."
He was trying to save this case from completely drowning, which meant he didn't have anything to back him up with. It occurred to me that I actually had the upper hand and I'd better hold on to it for as long as possible.
"Is that right? Can we really trust the defendant's words? There was no witness to validate that claim nor is there any evidence. Unless, you do have some?"
"I...don't have anything, no. But I trust Charlie. Someone else was there!" he said slamming both of his hands on the bench.
"Well, unlike some people, I do have proof," I grinned.
"What?" he had his hands up like I was robbing him. "That face does not fit your harshness, Ms. Doomsday."
"I don't think your face suits you at all, but you don't hear me complaining about that, do you?" I slammed the bench with my fist.
(Heh, got you, you jerk.)
"Well? What is this evidence you have?" asked the judge impatiently.
"Oh, let's see..." I started rummaging through my bag of documents. It wasn't that one, no, that was useless right now. No, no, no, I needed that name tag. There was the fingerprint analysis, but for God's sake, that stupid name tag hadn't popped up yet. I felt the eyes of the courtroom on me, waiting- waiting for my performance. And I wasn't prepared.
I heard the talk amongst the watchers in the gallery.
"What's taking so long?"
"She's so unprepared, it's pathetic."
"Is that really the 'attorney breaker'?"
I growled to myself. More sweat was dripping off of me. They didn't have to do anything besides watch, they didn't feel the pressure. They didn't know all the work that went into this. I had been thrown into this world only yesterday, and here I am trying to prosecute with NO instruction. They didn't have to do a damn thing, the low lives. The most distressing part of this ordeal was how I knew Edgeworth was watching. And oh, he was probably pissed, wondering what the hell I was doing. I wouldn't dare look up into the crowds in the gallery. He was probably burning a hole through my head right now. But- Ah, there it was! I picked up the soiled name tag.
Okay, that was cool. I didn't know how to make the evidence show up on the big holographic screen, though. Maybe that was the court record? But how would I access it? The game always talked about a court record and told you to check it when you were looking for evidence... I looked around, maybe in hopes of seeing a floating button that was labeled court record. I saw none. I looked around the court, maybe there was a person who hit a switch? Nothing besides the usual spots, the judge's spot, the defense's bench, the defendant's stand, witness stand, and the gallery. Then what exactly was the court record? I squatted, checking under the bench, for some kind of button.
"Where the hell is the stupid button?" I muttered to myself.
"Ms. Doom, what are you doing? Where is the evidence?" the judge demanded.
I was still under the bench looking. It had to be somewhere...
"Did the prosecution run out with it's tail between it's legs?"
"I'll let you know, I have no tails, thank you!" I said springing back up.
"Well, the court is waiting for your evidence, unless you were bluffing."
Well, shit. I couldn't find any clue to doing it. It was time to quit, before I pissed the judge off.
"I'm not the defense, so don't worry about bluffing, Your Honor.
TAKE THAT!
I held up the bloodied name tag and fingerprint analysis in my hands.
Then bam! The next thing I knew my hands were being immersed in this bright blue light. A holographic screen popped out of nowhere in the middle of court and it was showing everyone the name tag and fingerprint analysis.
"Holy shit!"
"Ms. Doom! I'm penalizing you for your atrocious language!"
Whoops... Oh, well. I had a feeling I'd be getting a lot more penalties being a prosecutor. Ah! It hit me; it was similar to Ace Attorney movie! The way they presented evidence for the court to see was just like that. That meant I'd get to throw screens at people dramatically! YES!
"I'd say sorry, but I'm not, Your Honor. Swearing... is just an endearing character trait of mine. Sides, scientific studies report that those who swear are more honest." I laughed sheepishly.
"Scientific or not, there isn't a place for it in the court," he shook his head. "Now, what are these things you've submitted?"
"Ah, well, the first is a name tag belonging to defendant. We found it in a puddle of the victim's blood. Nasty little thing. And the other is the fingerprint analysis done on the work punch in machine. It has two sets of prints, one belonging to the defendant and the other one, those haven't been identified. They don't match anyone else's on the scene."
"Wait, a work punch in machine?" asked Shields.
I looked in my bag, found the data on the machine, and held it up. The blue light covered my hand and processed it. It appeared on the screen.
"Yep, when employees go to work and leave it, they check in using this machine. It's fingerprint operated; all they do is press their finger on the scanner and bam, they clock in for work."
"Interesting," he clapped his hands whilst raising his eyebrows. "And you say there are foreign prints on the machine?"
"Yes. Oh! But before we jump to any conclusions involving that machine, it's been broken since early yesterday morning. No one's checked in or out using it, meaning there isn't a real reason to go to meat room. The only machine is down there in that room, so if it's broken, there's no need."
"Then how did the employees check into work?" asked the judge.
"There's a sign up sheet," I said throwing up the list into the air to be scanned. As expected it popped up showing a list of names and check in times. "Very old fashioned. They have it up on the boss's door in case a machine breaks down."
Shields shrugged his shoulders. "It doesn't change the fact that those prints are suspicious."
"What do you mean?" the judge asked.
"I think those prints belong to the real killer," said Shields. "Charlie said he was knocked out and those unidentified prints prove the existence of another person on the scene that day!"
I had a feeling he'd come to that conclusion and for once I had a real plan, not something I made up on the fly.
"I'll agree that those prints show us the existence of another person. However, those are unrelated to the case at hand."
"What?"
"A machine gets broken. Things that are broken need fixing, right? The manager probably had a repairman look at it," I said arms folded.
"You're trying to pull a fast one..." glared Shields.
"I am not. You don't have any evidence to come up with the 'real' killer. Those prints mean nothing; the prints that do matter are the defendant's which were on that machine. And on top of that, the victim's blood was on that machine too."
I picked up a sheet of paper and presented it for the court. Bam. Blood analysis up on the screen, all up in yo' grill.
"Well, this all certainly seems like the defendant is guilty," stated the judge.
OBJECTION!
"Those prints are relevant," he stroked his chin. "What about the meathook? That was fabricated wasn't it? It makes me believe that someone else set it up to frame Charlie. Also, why was the victim down there anyway? The clock in machine was broken, as you said, there would be no reason to go there."
"Not like it matters, but here is a theory. It is a known fact that the victim had a terrible relationship with your client. They hated each other's guts. Mr. Mann probably called the victim down to his death. They got into an argument like they normally did and BAM! He struck him with his butchers knife in a heated passion. Because he hated the victim that much he hung him up on the hook, just like an animal."
OBJECTION!
"That's all speculation!"
"Like I said, it was a theory," I rolled my eyes. "But you can't counter it, can you? At least I have a basis for it, instead of a mystery man killer!"
"What do you mean, basis?"
"There have been rumors going around that claim our victim had some dirt on Mr. Mann and was blackmailing him. With an already tense relationship, I doubt being blackmailed would help."
"What is this rumor?" asked the judge. He seemed like such a gossip I swore.
"I don't know. The defendant denies it's existence, but it's clear he's lying. I'm assuming it's something awful."
"Well, I think we have a grasp on this case. Detective Gumshoe, you can leave the stand," said the judge.
"Ah, thanks, Your Honor," said Gumshoe leaving the stand. Poor guy, I had been so caught up in trying to survive this trial, I forgot he was on the stand. Well, he didn't do as bad as I thought. Maybe I'd raise his salary later. The judge banged the gavel.
"Based on the facts we've seen thus far, I really see no need to prolong this trial. The defendant's guilt has been established through the wealth of evidence presented," the judge said gravely.
OBJECTION!
"Hold your horses, Your Honor. Aren't we ending this a little too soon? We still don't know the origins of those prints. Someone else was on the scene and I know Charlie is innocent! Whoever those prints belong to have something to do with murder."
"I think we've seen enough, Mr. Shields."
I remained silent, watching. I could end the trial right now, and end my misery. I could take the win and not have to bother with it anymore. But, something about that felt wrong. Because I was a prosecutor, I had a feeling the real killer was still out there like that annoying attorney said. The defense tends to win more often than not, even with the system stacked against them. I still had my doubts, but there were some things we should clear up if we were going to find the full truth. I internally groaned. Sometimes doing the right thing sucked...
When I was thinking to myself, I didn't notice how close we were to ending trial. "I think it's time to pass down my verdict. I declare Charlie Mann-"
OBJECTION!
I yelled out doing the quiet coyote. I always wanted to stop a trial at the last second. It was very theatric.
"M-Ms. Doom? What are you doing? The verdict is in your favor."
Oh, I had forgotten to say things after that. My bad.
"This isn't about winning; I think we need to know if this is the truth. I mean, didn't bring in another witness for nothing, after all."
"...Very well, I will allow another witness to take the stand if it helps us understand more."
I looked across the room; the defense attorney was surprised at my change of heart. He was staring at me like I was some kind of freak show.
"Oh, hey. Could we have...a 30 minute recess? The witness, is sort of a handful to prepare."
"I don't think I've met a witness that wasn't. I shall call a 30 minute recess," he banged his gavel and stepped down from his seat. I was assuming he was going towards the back to his chambers. Everyone else was leaving so I'd better high tail it out of here myself.
April 15th, 11:22 AM
District Courtroom No. 5, Hallway
Phew. It was such a relief to be out of that demented courtroom. Thinking on my toes really exhausted me mentally. Too bad it didn't stop me from looking like a complete schmuck. With the thirty minutes to myself, I figured I had to do two things. One: obviously make sure Oldbag knew what she was saying and two: find a vending machine immediately. Actually, that was probably a higher priority than dealing with Oldbag. I hadn't eaten breakfast and I was now beginning to feel hungry. Yeah, vending machine it was.
As I was wandering the hallway looking for a precious vending machine, I felt a very strong presence behind me, towering over me. Most feasibly, glowering at me in rage. I was very aware of who it was and by any means did I want to turn around.
"Um, hi," I began looking straight ahead.
"What was that ?!" Edgeworth huffed. "That was one of the worst prosecutions I have ever seen! I almost wanted to leave the gallery and take over myself!"
I turned around fearfully. My God. That would have been terrifying if he had joined me in the prosecutor's bench. My God.
"I- I don't know, I'm sorry. I didn't sleep much last night and- you know I think I hit my head again..." I said sheepishly rubbing the back of my head.
"I'd say you did. It was like you hadn't run a prosecution before, you're entire life!" he said arms folded shaking his head.
"I-is that right?" I laughed awkwardly.
He sighed. "Well, you did recover by the end of it. But that was a very rocky start."
"Sorry, Mr. Edgeworth... I just, um, haven't been feeling myself lately. I swear, I'll get it right after this recess."
He eyed me with scrutiny again. The irritation with me had slowly dissipated, leaving me with an expression I couldn't quite make out. The most I could gather was he was thinking. Thinking long and hard about something.
"I hope so."
(Agh.)
"Uh, Mr. Edgeworth, where are the vending machines? I sorta forgot their location."
He raised a brow. "You, getting food from a vending machine?"
"I didn't eat breakfast. I don't even think I ate lunch or dinner yesterday to be honest."
He recoiled in shock, doing that 'nghoooo' face. I think I snorted, but didn't laugh. Laughing probably would have made him mad again and I didn't need that.
"No wonder that performance was atrocious! In order to have a working mind you need to care of yourself, Lyn."
"Okay, mom," I said as an automatic response.
Edgeworth just stared at me, tapping his fingers on his arms.
"...Ah! I mean, sir! Mr. Edgeworth, sir!" I felt the heat rising to my cheeks. I couldn't believe I just called him mom.
Luckily, he didn't seem to be annoyed with me for that statement. On the contrary, he was very amused by it.
"Mom?" he smirked. "I guess, if I am your mother, it's my obligation to get you some kind of meal, even if it isn't entirely nutritious."
He began walking, gesturing for me to follow, to which I scurried along behind him. I assumed we were on the way to the glorious vending machines. Amen. Down the hallway and to the left, outside some heavy doors and some soft looking seats, there was the black rectangular box, holding all the tasty treats in the world. I ran up to it excitedly like an excited dog. Glancing at the foods, I didn't recognize any of the brands. Except. Was that- My eyes were frozen on the Swiss Rolls. The Swiss Rolls that Kay liked so much. The price was $1.40; I reached into my pockets, looking for money. I ripped out a wallet, only to discover the horrible truth that I only had cash in twenties. Not even change. I stared at the machine in defeat frowning.
"Nevermind..." It just wasn't meant to be today.
"Here," Edgeworth said extending a hand with two dollars and some change.
"Ah, but I couldn't-"
"Take it. Do you really think $2.80 is any skin off of my back?"
I stood hesitantly. Now, I felt kind of like an ass, that my mentor and idol had to feed me. But gods, I was starving. In the end I took the money and put in the machine to get two packs of Swiss Rolls.
"Thank you," I said looking away. "I'm sorry for the trouble."
"Think nothing of it. Just do your job properly, is all I ask for in return."
I took a seat on one of those soft cushiony chairs in the hall giving him a weak smile. "I'll try my best."
I opened up one of the packages. Oh, yes. It was strawberry swiss roll. Without hesitation I started shoving the pastry down my throat. Out of the corner of my eye, I'm pretty sure I saw Edgeworth watching in a mixture of fascination and disgust. I was already at my lowest, dignity was a thing of the past. I finished off the first roll and moved on to the second with the happiness that my stomach was being filled with something, even if it was sugary self destruction.
"Do you think he did it?"
"Hm?" I paused before I took another bite. "I'm not entirely sure of what to think. The evidence is pointing at him, but I need to check everything out anyway. The attorney was right when he said those prints were suspicious, but with no other suspect and no evidence introducing any new leads there isn't much that can be done."
"So the witness might provide some insight, correct?"
"Yeah, the witness might-" I gasped. Oh, no. How could I forget? The witness. That witness.
"What's wrong?"
"Uh, Mr. Edgeworth the witness, is someone you know, unfortunately. It might be a good idea if you leave and go back to gallery..."
"That's ridiculous, I'll go where I please. Who is this witness?"
"A, uh, Wendy Oldbag," I said waiting for the reaction.
"Th-That woman? Again?! Nghhhhhhh..." He cringed, but regained some composure. "Ahem, I understand. But, please do your job well. I think you're getting closer to the truth, you'll just have to keep pushing."
"Right, I'm on it! I won't let you down!"
He nodded approvingly and cautiously walked away from the direction in which we came. I sincerely hoped for his sake he didn't run into a wild Oldbag. I chewed the last bit of my swiss roll and disposed of the wrappers in a trash can nearby. Unfortunately, for me I had to run into her to make sure I knew what she was going to say, even though I had a feeling, it would change up there on the stand, like it always did. Groaning, I went off searching for the waiting room where witnesses watched the trial.
Profiles:
Maya Fey: Age 19. It looks like we're good friends based on what I know.
Miles Edgeworth: Age 26. My mentor? Likes giving me lectures. It seems we're on good terms.
Detective Gumshoe: Age 33. Lead detective on this case. Help me.
Reed Booke: Age 45. The victim in this case. Deli employee. Sounds like a jerk.
Charlie Mann: Age 30. Butcher. Suspect in this case. Found fleeing the crime scene. Really strange.
Woody Johnson: Age 51. Store manager. First one to discover the body. Likes to sit in the dark...
Raymond Shields: Age 35. The sassy defense attorney I'll be facing in court. Fuck.
Wendy Oldbag: Age ?. Cashier. (Unfortunately) a witness.
Judge: Age ?. Old timer judge. No one know his real name.
Evidence:
Broken fingerprint time clock: Broken since sometime early this morning.
Sign in sheet: List of names and times people came in/out for work.
Bloody name tag: Suspect's name is on it.
Planner: List of Booke's day to day chores.
Autopsy report: Time of death estimated between the hours of 8:00 AM to 11: 00 AM. Cause of death blunt force trauma to the head. Death was not immediate. Puncture wounds occurred after death.
Fingerprint analysis: One set of prints belong to Mann, other prints are unidentifiable.
Blood results: Victim's blood found on the time clock.
Meat Cleaver: Blade is clean, but handle is covered in blood.
Kum & Go building plans: Map outline of the building.