AN: I decided to break this up into two more parts, so here's the next one. As usual thank you for reading, following, faving and reviewing!
OBSERVER01: Thanks!
Ryszard: His court record has been present for a while. You always have the option of rereading a chapter, since as I've said I'm in my last year of college and simply don't have a lot of time to update as frequently as I would like.
urs-v: I have fun writing and that's all that really matters to me-otherwise, I wouldn't be writing. I have limits to when something becomes more work than fun. I'm not a novelist so when I write this, it's just a hobby. Also, that wasn't supposed to be easy to follow.
Mechblade007: Thanks for waiting! I'll do my best, thanks!
SUPERStarz13: I do my best and thanks for understanding!
storytellerofawesomeness: Thanks! And likewise.
May 26th, 9:50 AM
District Courtroom No. 3, Hallway
Having to avoid the flurry of reporters and photographers upon entering the courthouse, I thankfully managed to make it on time. There had been a good amount of news crews around the courthouse in the previous days, but today the amount sky rocketed. This case was sensational to start with, but with this being the final day, it was bound to attract even more attention, much to my continued irritation.
"Well, sir! We finally caught him!" said the detective walking toward me with pep in his step.
"That's good to hear," I said. "Where did you find him?"
"It was sorta strange, but after turning the town upside, we found him lurking outside the Gavin Law Offices."
(Interesting... I wonder if Gavin was the next target.)
"Did he say why he was there?"
Detective Gumshoe scratched the back of his head. "He said he really had to talk to Kristoph Gavin. But he didn't say why."
"I see," I said closing my eyes momentarily.
"But get this, sir! We found the other gun that went missing from the park on him too!" said the detective excitedly.
"Is that so?" I began tapping my fingers on my arm. "It's all adding up."
"You think he did it, Mr. Edgeworth?" he asked.
"I don't have any doubt now. It's just a matter of whether or not we can prove it today."
"If anyone can do it, it's you sir!" Detective Gumshoe stomped overly enthusiastic.
"I hope so, detective. If we can figure this case out, then we can solve a few other unanswered mysteries as well."
"R-really, sir?! You mean, Ms. Doom's attack?"
"Not only that, but the TL-5 case as well. That's why I asked you to retrieve particular pieces of evidence yesterday."
The detective went quiet, and looked off to the side. It was unusual for Detective Gumshoe to appear pensive or in anyway thoughtful, but he did seem mildly perturbed.
"I never felt right about that case either, to be honest. We did our best to gather evidence, but... Some pieces fit, yet other parts seemed like they were made to fit...things were missing too. And Ms. Doom cared a lot about that case," he paused. "I felt like we let her down. Maybe if we found the evidence we needed, maybe this wouldn't have happened."
I hadn't thought much of it, but he had been the lead detective on that case. So, it had meant something to him as well.
"I'm certain Lyn doesn't see it that way, detective," I said. If I knew Detective Gumshoe, I knew he had tried his hardest. The man could be an imbecile at times, but he would get the job done when it counted.
The detective said nothing, but made a small grunt in reply as to acknowledge my words, yet rebuff them at the same time. He continued to gaze off to the side, keeping his thoughts to himself.
(This has gone on, for far too long. This case has affected too many people and it's time to uncover the truths behind it once and for all.)
The door entrance to the courtroom creaked open, a bailiff stuck his head out telling me it was time to begin.
Detective Gumshoe broke from his contemplative stance and returned to the vigor I was more accustomed to seeing.
"...Good luck, sir. I'll be rooting for you!"
"Thanks, detective," I said walking towards the door into the courtroom.
May 26th, 10:00 AM
District Courtroom No. 3
I had spent the rest of my day after court reviewing evidence from the TL-5 case at the police station. In addition to that, I had also decided to take the evidence from Lyn's unsolved attack. It was all leading back to the past, and I wanted to be ready for it in the present when it reared its ugly head.
Suffice to say, today was it. Today we had to uncover all the mysteries or let the truth be lost forever. Wright and I both knew who the real culprit was. Everything had been leading up to this point. There was no turning back now.
The crowds in the gallery were a lot quieter than they had been during the last couple of days. One could feel looming clouds of uncertainty hanging above the court with the anticipation of a big storm coming. And when that the storm hit, I wondered who would still be standing.
The gavel was slammed down by the judge who appeared more serious than usual.
"Court is now in session for the trial of Alina Bunke. Is the defense ready?"
"The defense is ready."
"And the prosecution?"
"The prosecution is ready, Your Honor."
"Yesterday, we heard testimony about a third party at the park, believed to be Derek Bunke, the defendant's son. Has he been found?"
I nodded reading the report. "The police began the search for him after trial ended yesterday. He was apprehended early this morning, interestingly enough, found outside of the Gavin Law Offices."
"Gavin Law Offices...what was he doing there?" asked Wright stroking his chin.
"He claimed he was going down for a talk."
"Why do I doubt that?" asked Ms. Fey looking unimpressed by the story.
"Also, when he was brought in for questioning, the police discovered this gun in his possession."
The gun was brought up on screen in front of the court.
"It looks just like the first gun," blinked the judge.
"Indeed it does," I folded my arms. "This is another .44 caliber pistol. We tested the ballistic markings on the bullets found in the park with this gun and they are a match."
Wright perked up. "Are there any prints on the gun?"
"Unfortunately, no. However, we identified traces of gunpowder residue on his clothing."
"The second gun found on his person..." The judge closed his eyes. "This is certainly most suspicious!"
"It confirms my theory that he was the third person at the park that night," said Wright leaned forward hands on the bench, looking as though he were an animal ready to pounce.
"Indeed," I remarked calmly. "Mr. Wright."
"Yes?"
"Knowing the identity of the third party of the park, I hope you can back up your claims."
"...I understand, Mr. Edgeworth."
He said nothing more, staring back at me knowing my implication. We needed solid proof today, not circumstantial evidence. And I hoped it could be provided.
"I'd like to call the witness to the stand," I said prepared to begin the fight for the truth.
I had had no time to prepare testimony. The police had only found him an hour ago. The most I knew, is that he'd be denying the claims of what happened that night. It didn't surprise me, because if he had wanted to tell us what happened, he would have been here on his own accord. That said, I had little idea of what he'd attempt to say in his defense.
The bailiff had brought him to the stand. A lanky tall boy with long brown hair, he appeared to be tired and hunched over. He was wearing a white shirt, with a red plaid shirt opened with its sleeves rolled up, black gloves, and a pair of ripped jeans.
"Witness, please state your name and occupation for the court."
"Derek Bunke. High school student extraordinaire," he rolled his eyes and placed a hand on his cheek. "Are we really doing this? Because I'm not really interested."
"But your own mother is on trial! And you were there that night!" pointed Wright.
"And isn't that a good reason not to be interested, spikes?" Derek asked pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Huh?"
"Why would I ever want to testify against my own mother in court? I don't want to see her in the slammer. Why else would I neglect coming to the police?" he asked unrolling his sleeves and rolling them up again.
"Ah. While I don't condone ignoring to report a crime to the police, I do understand. If it were my own mother, why I don't think I would arrive to judge the case."
"The judge's mother is still alive?" asked Ms. Fey.
"Regardless, this court demands that you testify about the night of the crime," said the judge.
"Sorry, mom. I didn't want to have to do this," Derek frowned.
Witness Testimony
The night of the crime
-So, I followed my mom to the park that night.
-I saw Slim in front of the fountain. My mom approached him and they started talking.
-Then Slim got mad and pulled out his gun
-My mom pulled out her gun and was about to shoot until...
-I tried to stop her from firing!
-But she hit me with gun and knocked me out cold.
-When I came to, she was gone and Slim was dead in the fountain!
-As for the gun, I took it away because I didn't want my mother to get in trouble.
The testimony riled up the gallery.
"This testimony sounds similar to yesterday's," the judge shook his head. "Mr. Wright, you may begin the cross examination."
Wright was on glaring down Derek with all of his might. "Yes, Your Honor."
Cross Examination
The night of the crime
-So, I followed my mom to the park that night.
HOLD IT!
"Why did you follow Ms. Bunke to the park?"
"I knew she was going to the park to talk to Slim. And since everything that happened with my dad..." he ran a hand through his hair. "I wanted to see what would they would say. Since, no one ever tells me anything."
"How did you find out she was going?"
"I overheard their phone conversation."
"Your Honor, this is a valuable piece of information. The defense requests that it be added to the testimony," pointed Wright.
The judge nodded. "Witness, please add the statement to your testimony."
"Whatever suits you," shrugged the boy.
-I overheard my mom talking to Slim about meeting in a phone call.
OBJECTION !
"Like mother like son," Wright said stroking his chin.
The judge blinked. "What is it you're objecting to, Mr. Wright? The witness didn't hear a call?"
"Ms. Bunke had tried to say the same thing about a phone call. But we know that's not true, because of this."
The letter presented two days ago appeared on the screen for the whole court to see. Derek was starting to sweat.
"So, what? There's a letter," he said absentmindedly twirling a strand of hair. "She called him too. I didn't see that letter."
"Derek," Wright put his hands on his hips, smirking.
"W-what?"
"You saw the letter. And I can prove it."
TAKE THAT!
Two different documents with a lot of hand writing appeared on the screen.
"It's a hand writing analysis," said Wright slamming the bench. "We took the letter and essay you wrote and compared them, and funnily enough they came out as being a perfect match."
Derek was starting to nervously tug on his hair with both hands.
"You wrote this letter, Derek. It was you, who wanted to meet with Slim."
"I..." he paused, and stopped tugging on his hair. "You're right. I did write it."
Wright looked surprised.
"Then-"
"I lied earlier. I knew my mom wanted to meet with Slim. But I insisted I write the letter for her in case anything bad happened."
The judge shook his head. "Young man, lying on the stand is a serious offense whether or not you're trying to protect your mother or not."
Derek began twirling his hair. "I'm sorry, sir. I promise you it won't happen again."
Wright was glaring at the boy, having talked his way out of it.
-I saw Slim in front of the fountain. My mom approached him and they started talking.
HOLD IT!
"What were they talking about?"
Derek's brows furrowed in anger. "She accused him of killing my dad! Pointing out all the suspicious details of the so called accident. But he kept saying he had nothing to do with it and how it was a mistake! My mom called him out on it, but..."
-Then Slim got mad and pulled out his gun!
HOLD IT!
"So, did he shoot the gun?"
"No, he had only just taken it out."
Wright didn't say anything else, but was clearly thinking about something.
-My mom pulled out her gun and was about to shoot until...
-I tried to stop her from firing!
HOLD IT!
"So, where were you?"
Derek rolled his eyes, putting a hand on his cheek. "In the park, duh. Have those spikes drilled a hole through your brain?"
Wright began sweating. "That's not what I meant. When your mother was about to fire, where did you come from?"
"I was...behind a tree nearby."
Wright shook his head. "I'm afraid that's not possible."
"W-what are you talking about?" the boy asked confusedly.
"According to yesterday's testimony from Mr. Cartman, he was behind a tree watching the events unfold," I said reading over the account from yesterday.
"If you had really been, by the tree you would have seen Mr. Cartman," Wright said. "But you didn't."
Derek was sweating again, violently tugging on two tufts of hair.
"If the witness wasn't behind the tree, where was he?" asked the judge.
On screen, the diagram we used yesterday appeared. Like before the fountain was displayed at the very top of the map, with three dots a few feet beneath it in a triangular formation. Up top was labeled V for victim, on the left diagonal was K for killer and B to the right diagonal marked as bystander. To far the right side of them was a dot marked W for witness behind a tree.
After carefully, looking it over, Wright pointed to the marker labeled K.
"He was standing right here."
"Mr. Wright!" blinked the judge. "That is a serious accusation. Are you really saying that this witness, this boy, is the killer?"
"...Yes, I am."
Derek howled with laughter for brief moment and then rolled his eyes, putting a hand on his cheek.
"That's funny, real funny spikes...because I don't think you have any proof of that do you?"
Wright had his hands pressed into the bench before standing up straight. "Not at the moment, no."
"I didn't think so," Derek said rolling up his sleeves and then unrolling them.
"Mr. Wright, you cannot make accusations without evidence. If this witness truly is the killer, you will need proof to assert your claim. If it happens again, I'll have to penalize you."
"Understood, Your Honor."
"Oh, sir? I think I just misremembered where I was. Guess the trauma from the night was too much to bear. Actually, I was standing right over there," Derek said nonchalantly as he pointed to the marker labeled B.
"Witness, this is a critical detail to mistake. Do your best to remember the first time to avoid any misunderstandings," the judge said gravely.
"Sorry, sir. I'll try harder," Derek remarked twirling his hair.
-But she hit me with gun and knocked me out cold.
HOLD IT!
"So, you fought with each other?"
He rolled up his sleeves and rolled them down. "As much as I hate to admit it, we did. It was ugly."
"And you were out cold for how long?"
"Like I'd know," he shrugged twirling his hair. "I just remember..."
-When I came to, she was gone and Slim was dead in the fountain!
HOLD IT!
"So after you woke, what did you do next?"
"When I saw the body, I freaked," he said tugging his hair. "I knew my mom must have shot Slim. I saw a gun lying on the ground and picked it up to hide it from the police. Then I pretty much left the park."
It was clear to me that he was lying, but he knew how to cover his tracks. Wright and Ms. Fey were talking amongst themselves at the defense bench. Even with the contradictions pointed out, they were only minor and not enough to stop him.
"A son trying to cover for his mother's crime...while I don't condone this behavior, it is understandable," said the judge closing his eyes. "I'm prepared to bring this cross examination to an end, unless you have an issue with it, Mr. Wright."
"And then I can go home, right? This is boring," remarked Derek rolling his eyes, placing a hand on his cheek.
Wright didn't say anything. He had a hand under his chin, looking upward thinking of something.
"Mr. Wright?" asked the judge growing impatient. "Is there a problem with this testimony?"
"Yes, Your Honor. I have a big problem with the testimony."
"What?!" cried Derek, angrily tugging his hair. "You're bluffing!"
"What is the problem, Mr. Wright?" asked the judge.
"It's simple actually," Wright began. "The part where you said Slim pulled out a gun...that's a big lie."
Derek started sweating again. Wright took the moment to present the other gun to the court.
"Mr. Edgeworth, with the other gun we received today, whose prints were on it?" Wright asked.
"None. The gun bore no prints," I said arms folding tapping my fingers against them.
Wright began to smirk.
"What? What does that prove? There's nothing there!" said Derek anxiously.
"That's exactly the point," Wright said smugly.
"Huh? What point?" asked Ms. Fey.
"Yes, please explain," demanded the judge.
"If Mr. Chance really held the gun, his prints would be present on it. After all, he wasn't wearing any gloves," I said.
Derek was sweating up a storm, nervously tugging on his hair.
"How do you explain that, Derek?" asked Wright.
He didn't speak. He just continued pulling and pulling until he tore a clump of hair out.
"Witness? You will answer the question."
Wright slammed both hands on the bench. "Derek's silence on the matter can only mean one thing...that he fired the gun that night! Not Mr. Chance!"
"That's not true! You don't have anything on me! My fingerprints aren't on the gun, so you can't say I did anything!"
OBJECTION!
"Sorry, but that's an improper assumption," I said shaking my head.
"Wha...? Hey, I thought you were on my side!"
I slammed the bench with my hand. "There are no sides here. Only truth."
Derek started to sweat pulling his hair violently again.
I tapped my temple with a finger. "It makes sense that there are no fingerprints of yours to be found on the gun, considering you're wearing gloves."
"Ah! That's true," said Wright surprised.
"But you can't say you didn't fire the weapon since your clothes have gunpowder residue on them," I added.
"What is the meaning of this?" demanded the judge angrily. "If this is true, then your testimony was a complete-"
"ENOUGH!" Derek yelled pulling out two clumps of hair. He rolled up his sleeves as far as they could go.
"You want to play that game? Fine. At least it won't be boring anymore! You! Oldman!"
The judge was startled. "M-me?"
"Who else am I talking to, you old geezer! I'll make myself more clear. I'm going to testify again, understand?"
"I'm afraid I don't care your attitude young man-"
"Let me say it again because it seems like someone of your mental capacity, incredibly old age, and lack of hearing doesn't seem to grasp what I'm saying too well: I'm testifying again. And then I'm going to go home. Understood?"
"...Understood," resigned the judge. "After this testimony, you will be free to go."
The gallery, which always chattered in the background, fell under this hushed quiet. The tides had turned. He had started to reveal his true colors.
"Nick, this guy he's even got the judge on the ropes..."
"This is where the real fight begins."
Witness Testimony
About the gun
-So what if I did fire that gun?
-Doesn't mean I killed anyone.
-You don't have fingerprints. You can't prove I fired the murder weapon.
-But my mother's prints are on the gun.
-She's also already confessed to the crime.
-So, you can't pin this on me.
"Mr. Wright, after this cross examination, there will be no more testimony from this witness. This trial has gone on long enough," remarked the judge.
This was not looking good. This was it.
Cross Examination
About the gun
-So what if I did fire that gun?
HOLD IT!
"Well, it definitely means you had the opportunity to kill-" began Wright.
"Ahdada," Derek said raising an index finger. "Opportunity, isn't the same as doing. So that doesn't mean anything."
"Then why did you fire the gun?"
"I didn't want to say it in fear of what you all would think, but... my mother attacked me savagely before she knocked me out! It was so rough, she managed to tear a piece of my shirt. I fired the gun to protect myself."
"So, this is yours?" asked Wright presenting to the torn fabric.
"That's mine," he nodded.
"It was found in Mr. Chance's hand in the fountain..."
"And ?" he asked sounding bored.
"That's pretty incriminating don't you think? It would mean that you were the last person who was in direct contact with Mr. Chance," remarked Wright.
"Not necessarily. My mother could have easily planted the fabric in his hands."
"So you fired the gun three times?"
"...I believe so," he said slowly.
"Why? You were in close range to your mother. Why fire that many times?"
He started to sweat. "I...why would I be so cruel as to try to kill my own mother! I was...just trying to scare her!"
"That seems a bit odd," I remarked. "The witness yesterday claimed that the person firing kept trying over and over, aimed at our victim in front of the fountain, not the person beside them."
I noticed the growing agitation in Derek's person as the sweat continued to pour off him.
"That's true," said Wright stroking his chin.
"But ignoring that, if I were defending myself, I would be hoping to disarm with a single shot, not three. And despite three shots at a close range, you still missed," I said.
"I think I have an idea as to why," said Wright.
TAKE THAT!
On screen appeared a three person family. One could be recognized as a smiling Ms. Bunke, with a happy man, assumed to be John Bunke, standing next to each other with a young bespeckled boy in between them.
"Oh, it's that nice family photo!" said the judge.
"Yes, but take a look at the boy. What stands out?"
"Well, he's wearing a pair of glasses... Ahhh!"
"Yes, exactly, Your Honor. Based on what we heard yesterday, the shooter had trouble firing at people from a close range. If he wasn't wearing his glasses that would explain why," said Wright.
HOLD IT!
"Don't be silly," remarked Derek. "That's an old picture from years ago. I don't wear glasses now. You don't see any on my face do you?"
(Glasses...could it be him? His glasses I discovered?)
It had to be. But even if I presented it now...he could just deny it. There was no solid link and it would just be disregarded. I needed a better opportunity to present, but I hoped I could get it.
"No..." responded Wright reluctantly.
"Exactly! So, it's not important!" Derek said regaining composure.
-Doesn't mean I killed anyone.
HOLD IT!
"But if you fired the gun you had intent to kill!" pointed Wright.
Derek rolled his eyes, putting a hand on his cheek. "So? Even if I did, that doesn't mean I killed him. Let's move on."
Wright was staring him down.
-You don't have fingerprints. You can't prove I fired the murder weapon.
HOLD IT!
"You were wearing gloves, so it-"
"Nope. Can't prove it. And that's your problem, huh?" he rolled his eyes and put a hand on his cheek. "Not mine."
-But my mother's prints are on the gun.
HOLD IT!
"I bet you planted her prints on that gun!" Wright said slamming the bench.
Derek raised a finger. "I have only one thing to say to that: No."
"What?"
"I may have lied about Slim having a gun...but the gun my mother had was actually her gun. In fact both guns were from our house...I saw that one was missing and I simply took the other one."
-She's also already confessed to the crime.
HOLD IT!
"But she didn't do it! She's covering for you..."
"She's not. She's the killer who succumbed to guilt. Not me."
-So, you can't pin this on me.
HOLD IT!
"There's no pinning involved because you're the killer! Your testimony doesn't match up with yesterday's!"
"Well, that's just too bad for you, now isn't it?" Derek twirled his hair. "It's his word against mine...And you don't got a lick of proof do you? You don't have anything to prove that his version is totally right, Wright?"
Wright remained silent.
"Mr. Wright, while I don't care for the witness's attitude, he's correct." The judge shook his head. "If you cannot provide proof that shows what yesterday's witness said is true...I'll have to let him go."
Derek stood triumphantly twirling his around his finger.
"Do you have any evidence to present?"
Ms. Fey had tensed up, holding her breath, fists clenched. Wright looked distraught.
"...The defense, has nothing to present."
"Ha! Great! Now, I can go! I can't believe I've been dragged into all of this..." Derek said smirking.
It was over. Once he walked out of the room, it was done. Ms. Bunke would be declared guilty in a heartbeat.
"I declare this cross examination-"
HOLD IT!
The judge was frozen, hand that was bringing the gavel down suspended in midair. I looked at the defense and no one had said anything from their side. Therefore, it had to have come from the gallery.
I turned to the direction of the voice. And I couldn't believe what I saw.
A girl had cautiously walked down from the gallery and was now standing in the middle of the floor, barefoot, wearing nothing but a hospital gown and oversized suit jacket.
"M-Ms. Doom! Is that you?" blinked the judge.
"You...!" I yelled slamming on the bench. "Just what are you doing here?!"
She paid little attention to me, but focused it all on the boy on the stand as though she were in a trance, her mouth hanging open slightly. Derek was staring back with the same level of intensity, with an expression that I couldn't clearly discern. It seemed he was in awe and yet somewhat disgusted.
"Mr. Edgeworth, you can be angry with me later," she said never once looking away from the witness stand. Yet, the way she looked, wasn't with so much confidence...as it was fear.
"Right now, you can't let that guy go... because-" she stammered, trembling, pointing a finger directly right at him. "Because... he's the one who attacked me!"
It was then, that the whole courtroom erupted into complete chaos.
"What's going on?"
"That kid is the one who attacked that prosecutor?"
"Unbelievable!"
"Did she just come from the hospital?"
The judge couldn't control the gallery. He called for order over and over, but his voice and sound of the gavel were drowned out by the crowd.
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.
Torn fabric: Victim was clutching this in his hand.
Letter: Note telling the victim when and where to arrive for a meeting.
Family photo: photo of the Bunkes. John and Alina with their son, Derek.
Other gun: Found in Derek's possession. No prints.
Handwriting analysis: Comparison of the letter and essay from Derek Bunke. Match.
Glasses: Circular framed. Found in Lyn's office, the night of the attack.
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.
Cartman: Age ? A witness. Strange man who moves from park to park carrying a bunch of cans.
Derek Bunke: Age 16. Defendant's son.