AN: Well, it begins! Welcome to the start of case two...! And well, hopefully it's going to be as exciting as I planned. Heheh, we'll be introducing some more elements into the midst for this chapter. I might actually feel bad for Lyn this time around. Maybe. I hope you enjoy this chapter!
CallmeEevee: Thank you! I'm glad you find it funny (I'm always hoping I'm doing my part with humor haha)! Lyn doesn't say she has amnesia because she got too caught up in crazy scenarios to think properly (and she tends to over think and sometimes overcomplicate things). I don't really have a schedule going now, but ideally for the future as school is starting up soon enough, I might aim for Fridays. Right now, it's just whenever I can get through writing a chapter. Again, thank you very much, I'm glad you enjoy this story!
Observer01: Haha, it was pretty decent until the end XD. Not sure if it's the type of the date she'd repeat...
Cranky Kong: Yep, it's over and done with. I always thought it'd be interesting to see the prosecution's side, since the closest we ever get is with AAI, but only focused on the investigative side of things. Thanks!
Libby: Is that right haha? Might happen, or it might not. Who knows...
iggychan89: Thank you! I do try my best. I want to show that self insert stories don't have to be poorly written.
Tori Maya Potter: Thanks so much! It was challenging to do that case and have it make sense by the end, so that means a lot!
Confinamiento solitario: Thank you! I'm glad you think so- I've been wondering if I've been doing the comedy properly right to be honest. Thanks! I definitely will.
Hope you guys enjoy this one! Thanks for reading, reviewing, following, and faving! You guys are the best!
April 24th, 11:30 AM
Prosecutor's office, Room 1202
It had been a few days since the trial to convict Johnson. It didn't really take too much time, thankfully. I was only the courtroom for 30 minutes. They weren't kidding when they said state attorneys sucked balls, because that guy did. He was like a tutorial level boss- like the Winston Payne of attorneys. Even for a noob like myself, I aced the trial and had the privilege of finally getting some real sleep at home after it was all said and done.
Besides that, I was slowly getting adjusted to the new environment I found myself in. It was weird having a work routine instead of a school one. I was used to working part time, sure, but this was a full time job I had to be at nearly every day early in the morning. I could say I was getting used to the assigned duties of being a prosecutor which included boring paperwork and delivering evidence and files hitherto wherever and whenever I was told to. Though, sometimes I didn't understand it and would bug Edgeworth a lot about it. That said, I'd hang out in his office a lot. Work was boring and hard to comprehend at times, so in order to do it instead of slacking off I'd sit there on the couch and do it. He'd always chide me for entering his office frequently, asking in that stern voice, 'Don't you have anywhere else to be, like your own office?', but despite I noticed that he never kicked me out. I didn't think he really meant it. He'd answer my questions and sometimes we'd talk about other stuff that wasn't work related. So I guessed he wasn't too bothered by it. Then again, it sounded like the other me barged into his office on a regular basis so it probably didn't phase him much.
Today was no different. I had only been in for a couple of hours and was already ready to go home for the day. This place could be really fucking boring. No one mentions that being a lawyer or prosecutor or just general law enforcement person means boring office work a majority of the time. You always think of the exciting parts, stopping crime, being super suave in court- not stamping papers and filing them.
I sighed.
"You know, I would appreciate if you stopped with the sighing every five minutes if you're planning on staying here," remarked Edgeworth writing some document at his desk. He didn't even bother looking up at me.
"Sorry," I sighed. I blinked realizing I did it again. "Oops."
It was his turn to sigh. He sat his pen down. "Now, you got me doing it. Just what is it you're sighing over anyway?"
"I want to go home."
"Lyn, it's only been two hours since you arrived."
"Yeah, but this is soooo boring! I don't want to read about insurance policies. I'm going to fall asleep going through this stuff. I'd rather be in court."
"Oh, really?" There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice as he folded his arms. "This coming from the same person who claimed they didn't want to enter a court ever again after their last trial."
"Hey," I protested. "That last case was crazy! But...at least court was more exciting than this."
"Mhm. It makes me wonder if you forgot about the other relevant part of the job."
"Hmph." I folded my arms. "The more boring part of it."
Edgeworth rolled his eyes at me. "Perhaps you should take a break, considering sighing and staring at papers doesn't actually accomplish anything."
"Ngh..." His words could really cut through your soul just as well as his eyes. "Fine."
It was funny, though. After the trial and coming back to work in the office, I started to ease up around him. I saw that he didn't mean to be intimidating- it was just how he was. After being on edge about being around him, I kinda just relaxed when I saw that. While I did idolize him to a certain degree, I did realize that he was a person. A snide one at that, but a human like myself.
I put the papers down beside me on the couch and stretched my arms out above my head. Edgeworth had gone back to writing documents at his desk, focused on whatever he was writing. I merely observed, not knowing what to do with myself. I couldn't focus on the case I was looking into right now, and I didn't want to bother Edgeworth. I could go for a walk, but walking wouldn't really help me because I know I'd come back to the same nightmare to read afterwards.
"Can I help you?"
"Huh?"
Edgeworth looked up from his writing, blankly.
"You were staring."
"Oh. Sorry." I looked down at my feet awkwardly to avoid doing it anymore.
I heard some more scribbling on paper for a couple of minutes and then silence. I looked up. It appeared that Edgeworth had finished writing.
"Sooo, uh, you done with whatever ?"
"Yes."
"Sooo, are you taking a break?" I asked hopefully.
He closed his eyes momentarily. "I suppose there is no harm in taking a brief one."
(Yes!)
"But a very brief one."
"Okay," I said hiding my mild happiness.
(I guess he knew I wanted to talk.)
"You never expanded upon any details of your outing with Larry. I hope it wasn't disastrous."
Ah. That's right. I didn't tell him about it.
"Well, it was fine up until we were attacked by a biker gang. It was certainly an ending to evening I won't forget," I said amusedly.
"What?!" he was making a 'nghoo' face.
"Well, I'm still alive, so that's good, right?"
He rubbed his temple. "You should just stay far away from him. He's just a magnet for trouble."
"But it was good otherwise," I mused. "I learned a lot. Even stuff about you," I grinned mischievously.
"Anything Larry says should be taken with a grain of salt."
"Oh, so you saying you're not curious about what he told me?"
Edgeworth began tapping his index finger on his right arm. "...Fine. I'll hear it so I can correct it if need be."
"He said that you were good at video games. I could barely believe it," I said stroking my chin.
"It was only natural. I memorized all of the combinations for moves. Everyone else just simply bashed buttons without thinking," he said smirking tapping the side of his head with an index finger. "Why couldn't you believe it?"
"Weeellllll," I began, trying to say this in the least insulting way possible. "You don't strike me as the type of guy who knows how to have fun."
"Nonsense. I have fun, doing this." Edgeworth said completely serious.
I stared at him and then laughed.
"Just what is so funny about that?" he demanded.
"Your job doesn't count. Even here, you look as excitable as a dead fish while working."
"You're one to talk."
I rolled my eyes. "In the very least, I know how to have a good time. You know, do fun things like hang out with friends or watch TV. Stuff that isn't work all the time."
"Hmph. I don't have time for those things," he said arms folded.
"Suuuure. People like you only say that so they can avoid life." I said smirking.
"I'm not avoiding life."
"Yeah, you are. When people work all the time and don't do anything else, that's just one way of ignoring the rest of it."
Edgeworth shook his head. "I am very much living, thank you."
Meh. It didn't surprise me that he wouldn't listen to that.
"And at least I am here in the present, unlike other people," he said looking at me intently.
"Huh?"
"You've got your head in the clouds more often then not. Then you visit my office as a distraction from your own life."
(Oooooo, you got me there.)
"Well, touche. Guess we use different means to different ends," I said thoughtfully. "But I suppose, you don't play anymore do you?"
"No."
"That's too bad. I would have liked to play you in a game or two."
"If I did, I'm certain you would have lost," he said in all seriousness.
"What? How can you say that without even playing after, God knows how many years? You probably won't play because you think you'd lose," I remarked.
Edgeworth paused. He had folded his arms and began tapping a finger on them. I wondered if he was considering testing out the theory.
"You would lose after one round. I don't need to play to know that," he said with a slight smirk. "It is a childish endeavor to begin with and one I don't have time for."
(You cocky son of a bitch...Let me play and I'd kick your butt, guaranteed!)
I was fuming. He told me he could win without even playing the stupid game. How insulting could you be? I'd show him one of these days. We'd play some type of game and I'd win and watch him grovel in defeat.
"In any case, I'm going back to work. As should you." Edgeworth said sorting the papers on his desk.
"Yeah, alright."
I frowned looking at the papers on the couch. I couldn't do it. It was the most unexciting dribble I've ever read. It had too many legalese terms in it for my brain to comprehend. Then again, I didn't actually have to do this now. I did have some other task they gave me to do, which was put some files away with evidence at the police station. I could just do that instead of staring at the evil papers.
"Actually, I think I'm going to go down to criminal affairs and do stuff for a while."
"Avoiding the task at hand, I see."
"I-I am not. I'm just being more productive!"
"Whatever you say," he said nonchalantly not buying my excuse. "I'll see you around."
"Yeah, later." I said leaving the office with the documents, shutting the door behind me.
(I really hate how he does that thing where he reads me like a book...agh.)
But whatever. I planned on returning to my office and getting the stuff from the other case to send it down to the police department. There I figured I could waste more time, researching other cases- ones related to my background. I'm certain I could probably fill in some gaps about the other me through the cases she was involved in.
April 24th, 12:55 PM
Criminal Affairs Department
After passing off the evidence for the case I had been assigned, I decided to do some snooping. It turned out pretty well for me as I found some interesting facts. From what I could piece together, the reason I had become a prosecutor was because of a particular case called the FT-8. In this case, my father was brutally stabbed to death and the suspected criminal, a friend of his, got acquitted due to a lack of evidence. That happened when I was 13 years old, leaving me entirely parentless as my mother had been deceased. Lucky for me I was taken in by my aunt and uncle to live with their family. After that I survived high school and college, and got into law school. I started prosecuting around age 21, so about two years ago. I had a couple of cases before that TL-5 nightmare. I wasn't really famous until after that case, considering a suspected criminal got a not guilty verdict.
I think the reason the case struck a chord with me was because it was of a similar circumstance surrounding my own background- the lack of evidence of was big part of that case like my father's case. And also, how some of that evidence didn't seem to be very right was an issue- people were suspicious that either the police or myself had forged faulty evidence. Obviously, not true, but rumors tended to go around easily here. The case revolved around two men, John Bunke , the victim and Slim Chance, the suspect. John Bunke and Slim Chance were the top race car drivers of the NRDA, National Racecar Drivers Association. Bunke was top dog, winning 1st in three consecutive contests where Chance only managed 1st place one year, usually 2nd best to Bunke. In the biggest racing event of the year, The Free and The Fast, there was a tragic accident. John Bunke and Slim Chance were neck in neck for the lead, but somehow Bunke lost control of his vehicle and crashed directly into a wall, the impact so great he ended up being ejected from the car and smashing into pavement as his car exploded aflame. Bunke died on impact. The collision was so bad, that pieces of shrapnel from the car flew into the crowd, hitting and injuring spectators. Chance went on to win the race, but in the end the tragedy that occurred dulled the victory. It was very suspicious that Bunke would lose control of his car being a very skilled driver and along with having new safety devices implemented in his vehicle. Chance was suspected of vehicular homicide due to his intense rivalry with Bunke; it was thought he may have sabotaged Bunke's car.
In general the case seemed to be too convenient, I mean, this man's racing rival, one of the best drivers in the league falling victim to bad brakes, when they were checked multiple times? Something just didn't seem right. It would have been ideal for Chance if Bunke were out of the picture in a tragic accident. But the trial ended with a not guilty verdict, a good win for the defense. The defense whom happened to be Kristoph Gavin...
It seemed like ever since that case, the Lyn here got a bad name. She was all over the tabloids and newspapers- after digging around the office I was in a found a bunch. It seemed that people were suspicious of me, and then labeled me the attorney breaker due to my aggressions in court. Apparently, I was so harsh on the other side, to the point where some of them would have a mental collapse and refuse to enter a courtroom again. This happened a lot especially with newer attorneys...whether or not it was intentional on her part, I didn't know. I just knew based on my conversations with others that I had grudges- everything was falling into place. I think I understood mostly what she was about. There were more things I could probably benefit from learning, but this basic idea was good enough for now.
But...knowing I've faced Gavin in court, could be useful. It might make it easier for me to stop him from fucking up Wright's career. Maybe.
I yawned. I had been here for a while and I did find what I was looking for, so I figured I should probably go back to my office to attempt sorting through that file again.
April 24th, 5:30 PM
Prosecutor's office, Room 404
I could finally put the damn thing away. It was finished. I made sure everything was in order after much procrastinating and googling every other term I didn't understand. I didn't feel like doing anything else today, so I was going to bring the file to the station tomorrow. Despite the amount of time it took to get through, I was damned proud of myself for doing it without sitting in Edgeworth's office.
(I knew I was somewhat competent, heh.)
I carefully left the manilla folder the case was in on top of my desk. I stretched out my arms and back, which were tired from sitting at the desk for hours, and stood up. I grabbed my bag set on the floor nearby and exited the room, making sure the door was locked behind me. I could finally relax at home after the long day. Though, I really hoped that the rest of the week wouldn't end up as tedious as today.
May 15th, 11:46 AM
Prosecutor's office, Room 404
This week ended up being just as boring, if not worse than before. I didn't know why I bothered hoping for anything better. The life of a lawyer was nothing more than paper and an occasional court case. I had been deceived... My mind was wandering, so I was leaning back in my seat looking up at the ceiling. I sighed. Just as I was about to voice a whine aloud to myself, there was a knock on the door.
"Huh?"
(Who could that be?)
"You can come in."
The door pushed open and I blinked at the visitor.
"Mr. Edgeworth? You never visit me. What's the occasion? Are we having a party?"
He rolled his eyes. "Law offices are no places for parties."
"Well, you don't know until you try," I chuckled.
Edgeworth walked over to my desk- that's when I noticed he was holding what appeared to be a case file. He sat it gently on top of the paper covered area.
"Consider that a gift."
"A case?" I opened the file filled with some papers.
"I have other things to handle at the moment, and I figured it would serve you well. You have been complaining to me about a lack of cases more often than not."
Well, it didn't look too bad. There had just been a murder at a place called the Royale Hotel. Most of the details were still being gathered by the police as they were in the process of investigating, but the general gist of it mentioned a celebrity being killed. I didn't have anything to lose by taking it; paper work was boring as fuck.
"Alright, thanks. Guess I'll be on my way to the crime scene," I said standing up from my seat and stretching.
"Glad to be of service," Edgeworth bowed before briskly leaving my room shutting the door behind him.
I was surprised he came down here. Coming down from the 12th floor was an effort. I shrugged it off as I shoved the file into my bag, left my office and locked up. Off to the Royale I went.
May 15th, 12:20 PM
Royale Hotel Entrance
I arrived, sitting in my car staring at the Royale Hotel. I couldn't believe my eyes. My mouth was hanging agape. This... was unbelievable. It was pretty far off from the rest of the city into some shady sides of it, places you wouldn't find this on the main streets, that's for sure. There were a surprising amount of cars sitting in the parking lot for this time of day.
What was I even looking at? This was supposed to be an upper class hotel...Right? But the thing was...This. Wasn't. A. Hotel. This was a decent sized building, maybe as big as a casino that had bright flashing signs, talk of having a good time, and half naked women and men posing in giant billboard images. This wasn't a hotel.
I... was at a strip club. What the hell was this? WHY WAS I AT A STRIP CLUB?
I ran a hand through my hair. I looked down at my papers checking the address again, and unfortunately everything matched up; I was indeed, in the right location. Did I accept a murder case at a place like this? Seriously? Edgeworth screwed me over. I gripped the steering wheel of my car. I'd tell him a thing or two...
May 15th, 12:55 PM
Prosecutor's Office, Room 1202
I was so annoyed that I didn't even bother knocking. I pushed open the door in without hesitation as I approached Edgeworth whom was sitting on his couch drinking tea.
"Mr. Edgeworth."
He didn't even flinch. In fact, he didn't seem very surprised when I entered the room at all. Edgeworth just finished taking a sip and sat the cup back on the saucer he was holding in his hand.
"It's quite rude to enter one's room without knocking," he said calmly.
I glared at him. "Is this your idea of a practical joke?"
"I have no idea what you're referring to."
"Why am I taking a case at a strip club?!"
"Well, you wanted a case and I delivered, did I not?"
I looked at him incredulously. Did I catch a hint of a smirk? I saw the corners of his lips turn upwards. He was amused. Son of a bitch...
"You couldn't have mentioned that detail?"
"You would have figured it out soon enough," he shook his head playfully.
I dropped my hands to my sides. "Well, forget it. I'm not doing this case. I'm going back to filing."
"You can't."
"And why not?"
"Someone has to take this case. No one else will touch it." He stood up and walked over to his desk, setting his tea cup and saucer down. "And besides it will help you gain more experience."
I folded my arms.
"This is unjust. I should file charges against your treachery."
This time, Edgeworth just outright chuckled. I couldn't believe this. Miles Edgeworth was laughing at me.
"There wouldn't be a court that pick up your case," he said smugly. "Though, I do admit, I did anticipate this reaction."
"So, this was a set up," I said blankly.
"I was just giving you my assistance as I have been. I trust my services have been useful to you, no?"
He was a cheeky son of a bitch...I couldn't believe he was taunting me like this. Or even taunting me at all. I knew he had a subtle sense of humor, but I did not ever anticipate getting a bad case like this. Talk about being played like a bad game of chess.
"Miles Edgeworth... this isn't over. I'll get you for this."
He raised a brow again, in nothing besides amusement. "Is that right? We'll see. I'll be waiting, though I am disappointed you don't take a liking to this assignment."
I'd find a way to get back at him. If this was about accidentally spilling tea on his desk and sorta ruining some documents earlier this week, he should have just said so... But fine. I'd get my revenge. Maybe I'd get Gumshoe to clean his office and misplace everything, or something like that.
"Whatever, I'm leaving," I said beginning to walk out of the office.
Just as I was taking my first foot out of the door he remarked, "And be sure to say hello to Ms. Fey on my behalf."
Ms. Fey? I mean, I guess I could text her for him? I just looked back, nodded, and shut the door behind me. I groaned, acknowledging how I lost that fight and how as usual my fate was sealed to do something I probably wouldn't want to do. It was to be expected of the Prosecutor's office. I scoffed as I headed back to the parking lot for my car.
May 15th, 1:38 PM
Royale Hotel
I sighed as I entered the obnoxiously decorated building. The inside of a strip club- dark as hell, dimly lit, light up floors, thumping music with a killer baseline, the smell of booze, the silver poles on stage, the tables and chairs down by the stage area, and the bar- was, entertaining for lack of a better word. It was everything I would have expected of a strip club, well, minus police presence.
Police officers were prowling the premise, looking for evidence, questioning people, and lining things with do not cross police tape. I decided to get the ball rolling. I stopped one officer dusting for prints on a table next to the stage.
"Officer, may I ask where the lead detective is?"
"Ah, Ms. Doom, sir!" he saluted. "Detective Gumshoe is in the backstage area in one of the VIP rooms, at the crime scene."
"Thank you," I nodded as I moved to go behind the stage. So, again it was me and Gumshoe on a case together again. Not a surprise, considering he was the only detective we ever saw and got to work with in the original series. Best I'd get used to it now.
May 15th, 1:43 PM
VIP Room
Entering the room was a surprise. It was far brighter than I had anticipated since the club was so dark. However, for a VIP room, it wasn't what I'd deem extravagant; the walls were painted a dull orangey yellow and the floor was carpeted with beige. There were a couple of glass tables, one next to a yellow chair and the other next to a beige couch at the end of the room on the other side. There was a red couch sitting opposite the table and yellow chair. There was also a cheesy picture hanging up above the beige couch. It looked like a bunch of famous guys in tuxedos, made in some...collage ? I was no interior designer, but the way the room looked wasn't what I'd want in a supposedly upper class room.
Of course, there were other important features in the room, for example, being the dead body. He was sprawled out on the ground facing upward, underneath a pool of blood seeping into the lightly colored carpet. He definitely seemed to be posh to me, dressed in nearly all white- white suit jacket, shirt, pants, even the shoes were white. Yeah, this guy had to be pretentious- who really wears all white?
(This is a terrible place to die in. If I'm brutally murdered I demand that my murderer take me to a place that was fitting for me to die in. Like a Burger King. Or maybe a place that looked better than this.)
As I observed the room, I did see the other important parts to the room, being my favorite blundering Detective Gumshoe and some officers searching for evidence in this tiny space.
"Detective Gumshoe," I said half amused and the other half annoyed. "Such a great place to meet up, isn't it?"
"Ms. Doom?" he stopped focusing on supervising and turned to me. "I had no idea you were taking this case."
"Me neither. According to Mr. Edgeworth, no one will take this case."
Gumshoe scratched his head. "Huh. The chief sent me down here for 'a special assignment'. I guess it is special."
(Special as in they wanted you out of their hair. I bet Edgeworth was doing the same thing to me. Buttface.)
"Beats being a desk jockey again!" he chuckled.
(At least one of us is optimistic.)
"So, what's happening? Details of the case?" I asked reaching into my pocket for my notepad and pen for notes.
"The victim is Colin Card. He was an up and coming actor, had just gotten the lead role in the next Silver Samurai movie. It's pretty sad, since he was a pretty swell guy, mostly. Well, he was said to be sorta conceited and stuck up at times, but he was pretty reliable and generous despite that."
(Silver Samurai? What are they, Pokemon? There are so many of these things I swear... Wait. Colin Card? Really?)
"That stinks. But what's a nice guy doing in a place like this? And do we have an autopsy report yet?"
Gumshoe reached into his tattered coat pulling out a manilla envelope. "All in here, sir."
I gave my thanks as I took the envelope and peeked at its contents.
Autopsy Report:
Time of death: Between 12:00 AM to 12:30 AM.
Cause of death: 1 inch puncture wound to the throat. Other puncture wounds and bruising on face, arms, and legs damaging, but non fatal. Death was not immediate.
I returned the papers to their proper place. He got fucked up pretty bad. Though, looking the dead body, those puncture marks seemed to be awfully big. What exactly was he stabbed with? I gave the envelope back to Gumshoe shaking my head.
"As to why he was here," Gumshoe began looking off to the side for a moment. "He came here once a week to meet one of the girls. They'd always meet in this room."
"So, he was a regular costumer. That doesn't sound too crazy."
"Well, there are rumors he was cheating on his girlfriend with one of the workers here. It wasn't known that he came to this joint until recently. Word got out how he saw this one girl and how they seemed very close..." he pulled out some photos from his coat pocket and passed them to me.
I glanced down, flipping through the assortment. The one picture that stood out to me the most was one in which the deceased Colin Card, looking very content with this younger woman, were having drinks at the bar inside. He wasn't a bad looking guy, quite handsome actually. A dashing smile, wavy black hair, intense blue eyes, a strong jaw and overall nice build- definitely actor material. It was just hard to see that considering the whole, dead guy thing happening. The woman seemed to have a gentle and graceful demeanor- I could just tell by her smile. She was a pretty woman, with long fire red hair, green eyes, with an olive complexion. Even in her stripper wear, she didn't really come off as a performer to me. But at any rate, Card looked like he was having a good time with her and you couldn't blame him. For what guy wouldn't be satisfied with the company of a beautiful woman like that?
"Anyway, her stage name is Rose. Her real name is Catalina Bush. We have her in custody at the detention center."
"Wait. You think she killed him?" I blinked looking down the photos in hand again. It didn't seem possible, but then again, I remembered the horrible cases involving Dahlia Hawthorne, so I'd better tread carefully and not come to any hasty conclusions.
"We didn't want to think so either, but there's two pieces of incriminating evidence pointing at her."
"Like what? Don't leave me hanging, detective."
"Yes, sir!" he nodded. Gumshoe barked an order at one of the patrol men to fetch him a few things that they had collected earlier. He presented two plastic bags and a paper, and returned to searching the room.
"Um, are those, stilettos?" I asked in confusion staring at one of the bags. The white shoes were covered in blood. A lot of blood...Oh, no.
"These shoes are the murder weapons. They've been tested for blood, and it belongs to the victim," he frowned. "The shoes belong to Rose."
I winced, thinking of the pain this man must of have endured getting stabbed with stiletto heels. That sucked.
"Alright, what else is there?"
He lifted up the next bag and held it in view. "We found this scarf wrapped around the victim's neck when we arrived. It was odd, because the victim was never reported to wear anything besides the color white. And underneath that's where we found the fatal wound."
(What did this guy think he was? An angel?)
"Wait, that's weird." I said stroking my chin. "The killer didn't bother hiding any of the other marks, so why the neck?"
"We're working on it, sir. But the real problem is who that scarf belongs to."
"Ah, so you're saying it belongs to..."
He nodded. "You got it. Belongs to the prized Royale Hotel dancer, Rose herself!"
This wasn't looking very good for her in the slightest.
"What's the other thing?"
Gumshoe presented the piece of paper. "We found it crunched up in his pocket. It's a weird note, but it was definitely written by the victim. Handwriting analysis confirmed it."
I grabbed the paper gingerly. The contents read:
Dearest Angie,
I know it may seem to be too much for you, but I want to help you with your endeavors. It will be there soon so do check your mail. And no, you will accept this gift, on my word as a Card you never decline an offer. For who ever gets through this life entirely alone? I want to be there for you...I will not disappoint, you have my word. I want nothing, but the best for you.
Love,
Your Collin
I cocked my head in confusion. Who was this Angie person? And what exactly was coming in the mail? It did seem affectionate, despite the sketchiness of it. We'd have to find who this Angie was.
"Do you have any idea who this person is? This Angie?"
Detective Gumshoe sighed. "No clue. Me and the boys at the station have been trying to get the dirt on someone with that name, but nothing's coming up."
"Maybe it's another love interest he has. He is a celebrity, and they tend to get all the booty."
The detective looked a bit uncomfortable.
I felt the heat rising in my face and I snapped at him. "What? Don't you know, that booty also means treasure? Jeesh. Get a thesaurus and get your mind out of the gutter!"
"R-right, sir! Sorry!"
(How embarrassing. I have to remember that I'm not at home. Or with Maya.)
It didn't look like there was much else to look at in this room and it wasn't really my idea of a good time (at least in a strip club) to be viewing dead people. In fact, I was starting to get peeved by the whole scenario. In my other real life, I had always wanted to go to a strip club just to have the experience. And of course, my first time experiencing it, is with a dead body, police crime scene investigation and myself leading a charge against a suspect in court. Welcome to Ace Attorney in which, murder is the only way to have a good time.
"Oh, Ms. Doom, sir! I forgot these."
He once again reached into his jacket pocket, which I believed to contain the universe at this point in time. Maybe that pocket was a black hole. At any rate I received crime scene photos of the place before a little bit of clean up. I nodded and returned them, not noting anything too different.
"It looks like the crime scene is just about done, right?"
"Just about."
"Alright, let's move on then."
May 15th, 2:30 PM
Backstage area
I maneuvered my way through the police officers in the room with Gumshoe following behind me after delivering some orders to his men. This part of the building was just as dimly lit like the rest of the club.
"Um, so what other rooms are back here?" I asked.
He scratched his head whilst wiggling his eye brows. "Well, there are a few other VIP rooms and some dressing rooms where everyone gets ready to do their dances."
"I see. Where did Rose normally change?"
Gumshoe pointed to one of the rooms in the far right three doors down from the room we just left. If you squinted enough, you could make a silver plate on the door that read dressing room, though from my bad vision, dark lighting, and the 6 foot difference from the door made it hard to see.
"Should be that room, sir."
"Then, let's go!"
The faster we did it, the faster I could leave this place. As we proceeded down the little bit of hallway I heard some loud noises crashing sounds coming from the second to last door next to the one we wanted to check out. I paused suddenly, causing Gumshoe to bump into me.
"Oof! Sorry, sir."
I shook it off, just focusing on the door. Someone was definitely in there. I looked at the door, and decided to go for it. If there was somebody in there, they might be useful to the case. I knocked loudly.
"Hello, who's in there?"
There was no response, just silence.
"I know someone's in there. I'm coming in 3...2...1!"
I turned the knob on the door and made my way in. The sight was not what I was expecting at all. My mouth hung wide open for the second time today. It wasn't because of the messed up looking state of the room. It was the people in the room that got to me.
"Oh, uh, hi Lyn! Funny seeing you here!" said a nervous and equally surprised Maya.
(Oh fuck. This was not a good sign. )
"Um, why are you here? You're not looking for a career change are you?"
"H-hey! Of course not! Though...it might be a fun side job!"
"No, Maya! You can't be a stripper! There's too much to deal with already..." said an exasperated Phoenix.
I stared at the man. That man.
(Christ. Edgeworth is really rubbing off of me...I can't even refer to him by his name. Jeez.)
The man I was supposed to save. Phoenix Wright. I was looking right at Phoenix Wright. I didn't know what to say, besides talk with my eyes which were burning a hole through this man's head. In person he was very tall, just as tall as Edgeworth, just about 6'0. He was well built, wearing that silly trademark blue suit and pink tie. His voice was midrange, but had this sort of sincerity and gentleness to it. Though, I imagined that would all be out of the window by the time court started. The black spikes- his hair rather, were somehow defying gravity and standing upward just like in the games. How could that be humanly possible without gel? It was weird. And well, his face...I didn't want to admit it, but I was drawn in by his eyes. Phoenix had such pretty eyes... they were a grayish blue color, and I couldn't help, but feel a sense of wide eyed wonder looking at them. Despite seeming somewhat childish...there was definitely that spark of determination behind them. I felt it. It could get lost under the normal courtroom antics, but this was not a guy to be fucked with.
And I was going to be fucking with him soon.
(Goddamn it, Edgeworth...)
I might as well just hang up the towel and quit the case, because I know I was going to get my ass whooped.
"Um, Lyn...?"
"Ms. Doom, sir?"
I snapped out of it. Maya and Gumshoe were there trying to pull me back to reality.
"I- oh. I'm sorry." I said sheepishly rubbing the back of my head, feeling the blush spreading across my cheeks. "I, got, distracted."
Maya tilted her head curiously. "Hm. Does Mr. Edgeworth have competition now?"
"M-Maya! Shut up!" I yelled.
She just laughed. It seemed that this was a day where everyone made fun of me. I sighed. They'd pay for this soon.
"Pfft. You're so sensitive...anyway! This is Nick! I'm glad you finally get to meet him!"
"Uh, yeah." I looked at him again. "I, um, sorry about the staring. It's just that, you can tell a lot about someone from their eyes. Yours are interesting. So, ignore what Maya said. Entirely."
"That's easy enough," he said half seriously, half joking.
"Hey!"
"In any case, nice to meet you Mr. Wright." I said hesitantly extending my hand. He took it firmly and shook it, though he seemed put off by me.
"Nice to meet you, Ms...?"
"Doom. Quite ominous, I know."
"She's the best at crushing defense attorneys, pal! So, you'd better watch out!" chimed Gumshoe.
"C-crushing defense attorneys?" swallowed Phoenix.
"Yeah, pal! She's gotten them so good that they never walk into a courtroom again!"
I felt myself sweating as I observed Phoenix who was now viewing me with anxiety.
"Ahhh, that's enough of that, detective. Let's not scare them." I said wiping my forehead. "I can't believe you of all people would show up here."
"Well, we came to deliver justice!" Maya said pumping a fist into the air.
(Or rather to satiate your Steel Samurai interest.)
"Mr. Edgeworth," I said with annoyance. "Sends you his best, by the way."
"Huh? Well, tell him hi!"
"No hello for me?" asked Phoenix.
"Nope."
"Typical Edgeworth," he muttered under his breath.
"Tell me about it," I said huffing. "The guy tricks me into taking this case and then laughs in my face about it afterwards. And of course, doesn't mention who's taking the case, but merely saying to tell Ms. Fey hi. The nerve of that guy."
"Huh," Phoenix said sweating a bit. "Wait, he actually laughed?"
"Okay, chuckled. But the intent was still there."
"Hey, Mr. Edgeworth isn't some robot after all! He can make jokes. The other day, he made one about how my salary was a joke."
(...That probably wasn't a joke, detective.)
"So, can I ask how you know Maya?"
That was a good question. How did I know Maya?
"Weeeeeeeeeeelllllllll," I began honestly, not knowing how to end that sentence. I'd make something up, and-
"Lyn's just embarrassed about the truth of it!"
"Huh?"
"We met at a Steel Samurai convention, where I wow'd her with my amazing Pink Princess cosplay!"
"Ah...yup. It's true. You got me." That turned out easier than expected.
(Really? Well, I can't say that's too far removed from what I would do back home truthfully...Still a nerd wherever I go.)
"Well, that's not the weirdest thing I've heard."
"Hey, you calling Ms. Doom weird, pal?!"
"No, no, no. I'm just saying...it's not as strange as people make it out to be."
"Oh," huffed Gumshoe. "You're absolutely right about that!"
"Uh, and you work with Edgeworth? How'd that happen?" Phoenix asked.
"I do."
I took off my glasses and twirled them. I actually did find out the story behind how I came to work for Edgeworth. And it was horrifyingly embarrassing. I didn't want to recount the tale, especially to a nosy guy I just met.
"It's simple. He was someone I admired."
"Huh? That's all?"
"That's all there is to it," I shrugged.
"Wait. Am I seeing...?" Phoenix was squinting at me, furrowing those funny squiggly brows. Ah, shit. He might be looking at psyche locks. MY psyche locks. How many did I have, I wondered? Well, I wouldn't give him the chance to try to break me. He wasn't going to be looking into my soul.
"Alright, ladies, gents? It's time to get the show on the road. If you lot want to investigate the crime scene, the police should be done by now."
"Hey, Lyn! Since we're on the same case, you think you can share some details...?" Maya asked with that puppy dog look in her eyes.
I groaned. "Maya we're friends outside of work. Not during the job, we're opponents."
"But, come on! I'll pay for burgers this time!"
I could give them the autopsy report. That wouldn't hurt. And besides Edgeworth said his mumbo jumbo about working together for the truth for 100th time in the past week. But, this wasn't going to be easy for them. I knew I was going to lose, but I wouldn't lose without a damned good fight.
"Fine. I'll do you one favor. Detective Gumshoe, you can give them the autopsy report."
"Yes, sir!" he said as he reached into his coat pocket for the manilla envelope.
"But it's time for you to go. This area is ours now."
Gumshoe gave Phoenix the report. Phoenix told Maya to come on so they could check the crime scene out.
"Thanks, Lyn!"
I waved my hand. "I'll see the both of you in court tomorrow. It's gonna be interesting to say the least."
I thought I might of heard Phoenix gulp as the two of them were headed out the door. Imagining me, intimidating a guy who would become a pro in the course of three years, seemed like a joke in itself. I shook my head. I couldn't believe that I was facing him. Or maybe I just couldn't believe that I was going against him so soon. Edgeworth knew he was going to be taking this case. Does he really want to me see me crash and burn so soon again? Good experience my ass... I already knew what to expect. If the last case ridiculous, I'd be screwed now. I sighed.
"Everything alright, sir? You've been sighing a lot today."
"Oh, have I? Don't worry about me. I just know that this is going to be a very, very, very long day."
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. Looks like we both got the bad end of the stick this time.
Larry Butz: Age 25. Janitor. This guy is a trip, true to his nickname.
Raymond Shields: Age 35. The sassy defense attorney I've faced in court.
Judge: Age ?. Old timer judge. No one know his real name.
Mia Fey: Deceased. I guess my guide or inspiration to keep surviving this place, until that very fatal day.
Collin Card: Age 27. Victim. Was the lead in the next Silver Samurai movie.
Rose: Age 24. Suspect. Popular dancer at the Royale Hotel.
Phoenix Wright: Age 26. The man I'm supposed to be saving. My rival in court for the next case. Somebody save me.
Evidence:
Prosecutor's badge: With this, I can prove I'm a prosecutor. Dunno why we don't wear them on our lapels like defense attorneys though.
Magatama: Magical sacred charm that should allow me to communicate with Mia.
Autopsy Report: Time of death between 12:00 AM to 12:30 AM. Cause of death 1 inch puncture wound to the throat. Other puncture wounds and bruising on face, arms, and legs damaging, but non fatal. Death was not immediate.
Stilettos: The heels are covered in blood. Used to kill the victim.
Scarf: Luxurious red scarf belonging to Rose. Found wrapped around the victim's neck at the crime scene.
Mysterious letter: Addressed to an Angie discussing some type of deal perhaps?