AN: Back for a bit more investigation. Next up is day one of trial! Hopefully, I'll have it up by next week~ As usual thanks for reading, faving, following, and reviewing!

OBSERVER01: Yep, you're on the money with that ~

urs-v: Thanks! I'll go back and fix those things up.

Hero Of The Hazard: That's the million dollar question... but the answer will be revealed soon enough~

After encountering Wright and Ms. Fey, the detective and I had been continuing our investigation. For some time now, we had been rummaging through the grassy spots by the fountain in hopes of turning up additional clues. It was a tedious ordeal, one that wasn't bearing many results. Examining every nook and cranny could be an arduous task, especially if all one is viewing is greenery. I decided to stand up, after being hunched over for so long. There wasn't much to find over by the trees besides acorns, leaves and an occasional rock.

"Sir!" huffed the detective bent over staring at the ground.

"What is it?"

"You'll never believe this, but I think I found more bullets!"

Detective Gumshoe was hovering over his find like a small child who has just discovered buried treasure. I made my way over to him, but not before stepping on something hard.

"Hm?"

I lifted my foot off the ground and took a step back. Looking down, something appeared to be shining in the sunlight. I picked it up carefully. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a gold hoop earring.

(Did somebody lose this?)

I decided to hold onto the earring for now, as it may be important later. Putting it away, I walked over to where the detective was standing. It was as he said. Three silver bullets spread out only inches apart from each other.

"This is strange," I remarked.

"Well, a gun was fired. It's not too strange."

I shook my head. "Was it not, you who told me that only two shots were fired from the gun discovered earlier?"

"Ahh! You're right!" He scratched the back of his head. "So, I guess this means there was another gun, huh?"

"Yes. It's the only reasonable explanation."

The detective sighed as he started calling over the forensics team to look into the matter. A group of men hurried over to examine the scene, marking the locations of each individual bullet and taking photos. Afterwards, they collected the bullets and took them away for testing.

(The gun discovered earlier only had two rounds fired. Yet here are three bullets... Come to think of it, one bullet killed the victim. What happened to the other bullet? )

"This is weird. I wasn't expecting another gun!" the detective wriggled his eyebrows up and down. "I wonder if there was a shoot out...like one of those old western movies."

"First of all, this is a park, not a desert. If anywhere were a suitable location for a shoot out, it'd be over there by the sandbox."

"Oh. Good point, Mr. Edgeworth! I'll keep that in mind if I ever need to have a shoot out."

(...Did I really just indulge Detective Gumshoe's ridiculous imagination like that?)

"Detective, perhaps we should start efforts to locate the other gun as well as the second bullet from the first gun that was found," I said getting back on track.

"Right, sir! Good idea!"

That said, we continued searching further, not only around the fountain area but all throughout the park. However, the effort didn't bear many fruits of our labor. Through grass, trees, bushes, benches, trashcans- nothing suspicious caught our eyes. It seemed like the police had done a mostly thorough sweep of the park.

Detective Gumshoe was frowning. "I don't think the other gun or bullet are here, sir. We've checked everywhere... if it were here we would have found it by now."

"I feel inclined to agree with you."

"Detective Gumshoe!" barked a policeman.

We both turned in the direction of the yell. He was running under the police tape through one of the gates, holding what appeared to be some kind of document in his hand.

"Yes?"

"We've got the results from the ballistics analysis, sir! The bullet in the victim's heart matches with the gun from the fountain. The three other bullets were fired from a completely different gun!"

"Hm, I see," said the detective taking the document from the officer.

"And sir!"

"Huh? What else is it?"

"The prints we lifted off the gun earlier match the suspect's prints who we're currently questioning!" he saluted.

The detective jumped back. "R-really? Well, uh, keep up the good work!"

The other man nodded and ran past us, most likely back towards the area by the fountain.

"Well, sir, maybe we should go talk to the suspect!"

"Indeed, I think we've done what we can in terms of searching. Lead the way, detective."

"Yes, sir!"

The detective moved ahead of me in the same direction as the officer. We walked down the concrete pathway past the fountain and right to a park bench, which was being surrounded by officers. A woman was sitting on the bench, head bowed. The three officers guarding the woman upon noticing the detective, saluted and moved aside.

"Ms. Bunke?" he asked scratching his head.

(Bunke... Could she be related to John Bunke?)

"Hm?" the woman looked up at him with droopy eyelids that made her appear dazed. She was a tall woman, with curly blond hair and freckles. She was wearing a purple hooded sweatshirt with shorts and sneakers to match. It seemed like she didn't know or care much about what was happening around her.

"We'd like to ask some questions," I said.

"No thanks," she said putting a hand on her cheek, rolling her eyes.

"But, it's better for you to cooperate with us or else you'll be sent-"

"I did it," she said abruptly. "I did it. I shot him."

My eyes widened in shock.

Detective Gumshoe was just as surprised as I was. "A-Are you actually confessing to the crime?"

The woman took a deep breath. "I, Alina Bunke confess to the murder of Slim Chance, if you didn't get it the first time. I did it. It was me."

"Well," he scratched his head. "based on your confession and the fact that your prints are on the murder weapon, I'm placing you under arrest for the murder of Slim Chance."

She stood up instantly, turning around with her arms placed behind her, seeming relieved. "Then what are you waiting for? Let's go, I don't have all day."

The detective took out his handcuffs and cuffed her. He ordered the police officers to put her in a car and send her to the detention center for further questioning. The men nodded and grabbed her by the arms escorting her to a squad car parked outside of the park gates, starting to give the Miranda warnings. Despite making the arrest, Detective Gumshoe seemed perturbed. He didn't move from where he was standing. He simply watched the officers take the woman away.

"Call it my detective's intuition, but something about this doesn't feel right."

"She seemed a bit... eager to be arrested."

"Especially since she was really out there earlier, sir. She was dazed and confused and wasn't speaking much. But her prints are on the murder weapon and she did confess."

"So it seems, she's our main suspect for now."

(This needs to be investigated further...because something about this doesn't ring true.)

The detective shrugged, "I should leave for the detention center to begin questioning."

"I'll accompany you. I have questions I want answered as well."

May 23rd, 12:05 PM

Detention Center

I had my chance to talk to Ms. Bunke once the police were taking a break from their questioning. I was seated in a simple folding chair waiting in the visitors room. Being here was a dreary experience, perhaps escalated more by the dull gray paint job along with a giant piece of glass stuck in the middle of the room, seemingly bringing together two parties, yet separating them at the same time. Mulling over my thoughts, I remembered when I sat on the opposite side of this glass...as much as I disliked the atmosphere of the room, I was certainly thankful to be on the other side.

I stopped my musings when the guards entered with Ms. Bunke on the other side of the glass. They left as quickly as they entered shutting the door behind them. Ms. Bunke had taken a seat and was staring back at me with a bored expression.

"Who are you and what do you want with me?" she asked bluntly.

"I'm Miles Edgeworth, the prosecutor who will be looking into this case."

"So?" she put her hand on her cheek rolling her eyes.

"I have some things to ask you about-"

"You were there. I confessed. I shot Slim. End of story."

"I'm afraid that won't suffice. I'd like more background," I said tapping my fingers on my arm.

"What does it matter? This helps your case doesn't it?" she shrugged.

"I'm interested in the truth. That is why it matters."

Ms. Bunke paused for a moment, tilting her head thinking.

"...Whatever makes you leave sooner," She tugged on her right earlobe. "I told Slim I wanted to meet him so we could settle everything once and for all."

"Settle everything?"

"I wanted to know the truth about John and how he died. Slim got the not guilty verdict, but it never sat right with me," Ms. Bunke said continuing to pull on her earlobe.

"What was your relation to John?"

"I was his wife."

(The widow confessing to the murder of the man suspected of killing her husband...So, there is a motive.)

"I see."

Looking at her again, she had one earring in her left ear, but in the ear she kept tugging, nothing was there.

(Wait a minute...)

"Ms. Bunke, you wouldn't have happened to have lost an earring earlier?"

Her eyes widened. "Yeah, I did. How did you know?"

I pulled out the golden hoop from my pocket. "I found this in front of the fountain."

"Ah, well that makes sense. Lemme see it."

"I'm afraid it's evidence now."

She frowned. "What a bummer. I think I look pretty naked without earrings."

"...But you're wearing clothes," I remarked pointing my index finger at her.

"If you've been wearing earrings for as long as I have, that's just how you feel!"

"I fail to understand."

"Okay, I'll explain so that even an untrendy person like you could understand," she looked at me briefly and then pointed. "Hm... what about that fluttery thing around your neck?"

"It's not a 'fluttery thing', it's a cravat. And for your information it doesn't flutter. At all."

"Whatever. How often do you wear it?"

"Every day."

"Alright. Then wouldn't it be weird to you, if you didn't have it for a day or more?"

I paused and actually thought about it, closing my eyes and tapping a finger on my arm.

(That would be peculiar...I can't imagine myself working without it and I'm certainly not a tie person either.)

"Yes, it would be strange. I've worn one for a number of years."

"There! That's how it feels not to have both earrings," she remarked. "Plus, they were a gift from John..."

"Ah. Well, after the trial is over, it'll be returned to you," I said.

She folded her arms and huffed. "Alright."

"So to continue..."

"I called Slim and told him to meet me in the park at 2AM," Ms. Bunke sighed.

"And then?"

"We met."

"And? Then what?"

Ms. Bunke yawned and reached down for something. The next thing she did was pop a piece of gum into her mouth and start chewing away. She didn't say anything else; she just started blowing a bubble staring off into space for what seemed like an eternity. Therefore, I decided to stare at her with my strongest glare. I had yet to lose a staring contest. I'm unsure of how long I held the glare for, but I wouldn't relent until I was victorious.

The bubble popped, sticking to some of Ms. Bunke's face. She grimaced, as she peeled the sticky substance off her face.

"Look, are you gonna stop staring at me like that or what?" Ms. Bunke sighed. "That handsome face of yours is gonna stuck making a terrible face like that."

I smirked triumphantly.

(To the victor goes the spoils.)

"What happened after you met Mr. Chance at the park?"

"Gosh, what do you think happened?" she asked popping another piece of gum into her mouth. "Maybe, I, oh, I don't know shot and killed him?"

"You didn't talk or anything?" I queried.

"Not really. I told him to confess to sabotaging John, or else I'd shoot. He didn't confess, so I shot him. Happy?"

OBJECTION!

"Christ, what's the matter with you?!" Ms. Bunke yelled covering her ears.

"Erm, my apologies," I shook my head. "If that's the case, why are there other bullets?"

"Other bullets...?" she tilted her head to the right side. "Oh, that. He brought his own gun too."

I found myself hunched over with my fist pressed into the table. "W-what?!"

"Yeah," she chewed. "Guess I forgot. But Slim had his own gun and fired at me. My shots actually hit, though."

(Inconceivable! How do you forget you've been shot at?!)

"Nrgh..." I tried to regain my composure. "Well, where's the other gun?"

"Other gun?" she tilted her head to the right side again. "Oh, that. I took it and threw it away somewhere."

"Where?"

"...In the trash, a way aways from the park."

I stared at this woman. This couldn't be true. She was definitely not giving the whole story.

"If that's the case, why didn't you toss the other gun away?" I asked.

She paused before speaking again, she tilted her head to the right. "...I think we're done here."

"But, Ms. Bunke-"

"It'll be a great win for you, Mr. Prosecutor. Open and shut case."

With that she stood up, and made her way to the door waiting for the guard to open it back up. Since I knew I wouldn't be able to get anymore information out of her, I took that as my cue to make an exit.

(Wright will certainly have a wonderful time handling her as his client...if she even accepts his help.)

Since the police were handling the park and questioning for the time being, I decided to return to the hospital to see how Lyn was doing.

May 23rd, 1:46 PM

Hickfield Clinic, Patient's room

After checking if it was an alright time to visit at the front desk, I made my way to Lyn's room. Upon entering, my eyes were drawn to a bunch of flowers sitting on the window pane.

(I wonder who left those.)

"Mr. Edgeworth!"

Lyn was sitting up in bed, far more awake than she was earlier. I could now see the hospital gown she was wearing as well as a number of bandages wrapped around her arms and hands. I grimaced thinking of how much damage she probably sustained that night. It also looked like nurses had been by as on the left side of the bed was a tray with a Styrofoam cup full of water with a bendable straw hanging out.

"Hello. How are you doing?"

"I'm doing as well as I can for someone who's been stabbed like...fifteen times," she said cocking her head.

"Fifteen?" I asked incredulously.

"Yeah, that's what they told me. I was lucky he didn't hit any other organs besides my stomach."

I guessed I was making a face because Lyn waved a hand nonchalantly.

"But, uh, hey, don't worry about it, they stitched me up and stuff!" she laughed nervously. "But more importantly I got a lot of drugs..."

"I hope you're only taking what's necessary and nothing more," I remarked sternly.

"What? I was kidding. Don't tell me you think I'm a drug addict now."

"I didn't say that. It's just that people can get addicted to pain killers sometimes."

"You worry far too much," she shook her head. "But what's the scoop? What didja find out?"

I decided to sit in one of the empty chairs by the window.

"The victim in this case happens to be Slim Chance and the suspect is Alina Bunke, names I'm sure you're both familiar with."

I watched Lyn's eyes light up. She rubbed her hands together with a smirk as though she were plotting something. "Well, well, well...that's interesting. This is definitely TL-5 related."

"Ms. Bunke was very strange about the whole thing. It seemed after hours of little to no speaking, she confessed as though she were excited to go to prison."

"Huh. Well, maybe she thought it over. Felt guilty about it and then fessed up as a way to clear her conscious?"

I closed my eyes and mulled it over. It was a plausible theory, but it simply didn't feel correct.

"I don't think so. I believe there is a lot she isn't telling us. For example, we discovered the murder weapon at the crime scene, but bullets from a completely different gun as well. When I asked her about it, she didn't even seem to remember another gun until I mentioned it. She told me she threw it away somewhere, yet didn't dispose of the murder weapon. Why would one go through that effort to dispose of one gun that wasn't even the murder weapon?"

"Okay, that sounds really weird," Lyn rubbed her temple. "But at least you're on the case. I'm sure you'll definitely figure it out, since I can't."

She was pouting, looking as though she were a kicked dog.

"It's unfortunate I know, but if it helps, Wright and Ms. Fey are taking the case."

"Really?" she seemed to perk up a little at that notion.

"Or planning to. Ms. Bunke was stubborn about telling the story of what happened that night. She's claiming her guilt outright. I don't know how Wright will convince her to allow him to defend her, but I'm certain he'll figure it out one way or another."

"At least that's something."

I turned my attention to the flowers again. With my best guess, I determined that they were probably lilacs.

"Who brought these?"

"Those flowers?" she folded her arms and looked away from me. "Mr. Lawyerpants stopped by and left them here."

"You mean, Mr. Shields?"

"Yeah, that guy," she admitted reluctantly.

"That was nice of him," I remarked.

"Yeah, I guess. Sorta embarrassing, though...I don't like my arch rival showing up and giving me flowers out of pity," she stretched out her arms. "He didn't stay for too long, though. Not sure if it's a bad or good thing considering how bored I am here. He annoys me, but it gave me something to do."

I hadn't really noticed it before due to everything happening, but there was a small TV hanging up in the far corner of the room.

"If you're bored why don't you turn the TV on?"

"Yeah, that's true. I could watch TV," Lyn said blankly.

"Do you want me to turn it on?"

"No, that's ok. I don't think I could focus on it right now."

She rubbed the back of her neck and looked off to the side. I was certain she was still frustrated at not being able to be involved the case, but there was nothing I could do besides look into it myself. It was quiet in the room; all that could be heard was the pitter patter from doctors and nurses in the halls and the hum of medical equipment in use next door.

I pulled out my phone to see if I had received any new updates from Detective Gumshoe. However, I hadn't received any calls or messages so I assumed he was still questioning Ms. Bunke. Considering the progress of the investigation, I figured I would need to start planning my case for court tomorrow. I'd probably leave the hospital in a few minutes.

"Urgg..."

I looked up from my phone. Lyn was wincing as she was trying to turn over on her left side.

"What are you doing?"

"I want my drink," she replied lying on her left side, trying to extend her arm to reach for it.

I sighed. I stood up from my chair and walked over to the tray picking up the cup with ease. I passed it to her. "Next time, just ask."

"I could have gotten it myself," she said stubbornly taking a long sip. "Aren't you doing enough already?"

"I told you not to worry about it," I replied taking the cup back when she was finished.

Lyn muttered something to herself under her breath.

"I think it's time that I head out," I said.

"Good, glad you're leaving," she teased.

"Hmph."

"But I really don't want to see you again until tomorrow."

"I thought you were bored?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong I am," she adjusted her glasses. "I am very, very bored, but I'll entertain myself, somehow. It's just- I know you'll tell me, it's not my concern again, but with everything that's happened, just look after yourself too, okay? I already feel bad enough with you and Detective Gumshoe working like this..."

I was about to dismiss the notion, but she did seem a bit agitated. And to be honest, I was steadily growing more tired just by standing. I folded my arms.

"It's nothing we're not accustomed to, so there's no need to feel guilty. And if you think I won't be planning on sleeping after preparing for tomorrow's trial...you would be very mistaken."

"This is as close as I'll get to 'yes, I'll actually take care' as I'm going to get. Guess, I'll take it," she smiled wryly. "In that case, I'll see ya around."

"Goodbye."

I checked my phone once more, before placing in my pocket and leaving the room.

May 23rd, 5:22 PM

Prosecutor's Office, Room 1202

After stopping for a brief meal at a cafe, I remained in my office for the next few hours reviewing the facts gathered so far about the case. I also had Detective Gumshoe come by to work on his testimony for court tomorrow. With no witnesses and Ms. Bunke's vague description of the events of last night, this was our only real option.

To my displeasure, there wasn't much evidence at our disposal. There was enough to prosecute, but I knew too many pieces to the puzzle were missing. What Ms. Bunke said was correct, in that this could easily be an open and shut case for me. With the few pieces of incriminating evidence and her confession, the trial could be over by tomorrow. But if Wright was on the case, it would be a different story.

Why was she so insistent on getting convicted? Even if she was the true killer, there was something she was hiding. Something she wanted covered up.

I looked down at the papers set on my desk. They were news articles and newspaper clippings about the TL-5 case. There was no doubt in my mind that Lyn's attack and this murder were connected to that case. The fact that they both happened in such a time span from each other confirms that. But why now? Why the attack and murder now? It had been two years since the verdict. Bunke's family was devasted. Lyn's reputation had been tarnished due to the involvement in that case. And despite Mr. Chance's not guilty verdict, his career was as good as over, due to the shady nature of that trial. There were no winners, except for Kristoph Gavin.

Could he have something to do with this? ...No, no, that wouldn't make any sense. He would have no reason to kill his own client that he proved innocent. What would there be to gain? I ran a hand through my hair. I was probably over thinking this. As much as I wanted to keep working, I determined I should probably retire from my office for the day for some much needed sleep. I would need it for whatever tomorrow would bring.

Evidence:

Prosecutor's badge: One of my possessions. Proof of my profession. However, I prefer to keep it in my pocket.

Crime scene photos: Victim found shot dead in park fountain. Most likely the cause of death.

Autopsy Report: Estimated time of between 2AM to 3AM from bullet wound to the heart. Died within ten minutes of the shot.

Gun: The murder weapon. Two shots fired. One bullet is lodged in the victim's heart. The other is nowhere to be found.

Fingerprints: Prints on gun match Alina Bunke's.

Bullets: Found a few feet away from the fountain. Fired from a different gun.

Earring: Found in the grass in front of the fountain, belongs to Alina Bunke.

Profiles:

Detective Gumshoe: Age 33. Detective I've grown accustomed to working with.

Lyn Doom: Age 24. My protege of sorts.

Phoenix Wright: Age 26. Defense attorney I've faced in court on a few occasions.

Maya Fey: Age 19. Normally seen with Wright. A very energetic girl.

Slim Chance: Deceased. A race car driver who once held some renown.

Alina Bunke: Age 37. Suspect. Confessed to the murder.