AN: Hello folks! It's been a while due to my life transitions, but I've been working on this chapter for a whileeeee. So I made a bit long to make up for the lack update. I plan on finishing this arc within the next two chapters... muhahahaha. It'll be weird. I guarantee it. So, hang on to your hats. Also, I've received some questions about whether or not Lyn's secret, about how she's from another world will be revealed, and trust me, it will. I have big plans for that, but for when the time is (W)right of course! But as usual, thank you so much for the support! To my readers, reviewers and those who follow and fav, you guys rock! Hope you enjoy this chapter!
Gilgamesh The King of Heroes: Haha, I'm glad! LOL that'd be an amusing type of revenge.
OBSERVER01: Lol the best fart ever. And you're right the mystery intensified!
Lt. Cmdr. Jonathan Miller: You could be right about that. And absolutely, our murderer is a tricky one.
bwburke94: Hm, I never noticed it.
NNinja: Glad you like it.
SUPERStarz13: Thank you so much. I am very proud of the fart.
AceAttorneyFantic: Glad you're enjoying it. And it's never too late to keep writing more ;).
AriatheAlpha: Thank you! Ah, you flatter me. My talent is not natural; I've just been writing for a really long time and I've got a ways to go too! Let's both keep writing!
Sans the Skela-hog: This is exactly what I wanted to hear xD! Thank you!
icapppas: Glad you enjoyed that cameo haha.
Jack54311: Thank you so much for giving my story a chance! I'm aware of how much of a bad rep, self inserts get, so it means a lot to me that you gave it a shot :). Ahh, thanks, that's a huge compliment to say that my OC feels like a part of the cast! And we're getting to it! I have a really big idea for how that manifests itself. I'll probably go back and edit things later, but the reveal is coming. Just maybe a bit later and in a way you wouldn't expect lol. Thanks so much for reading.
Guest: Hello! Thank you so much! Haha, I'm glad you thought the fart scene was hilarious :) (I've been wanting to write that for the longest...xD).
AceAttorneyFantic: Thank you for the compliment and thanks for giving this self insert a shot! Lol, thanks.
Slowly, everyone entered the room one by one.
This was surreal. I wished I was dreaming. The fact that this happened again shouldn't have shocked me, but… I swallowed, unable to pull my eyes away from the body- a small, frail heap of a woman on the ground. She probably was an easy kill.
Ms. Jamison was trembling with tears welling up in her eyes. "Augh...Ingrid just wants to go home! Ingrid didn't do anything to deserve this!"
"T-that's two people...two people are dead..." Dawson muttered, both hands on his head looking as white as a doctor's coat.
Mr. Edgeworth moved towards Harriet, not to her, but rather to the hammer that laid a short distance away from her. He squatted on the ground and lifted the tool off the ground with a perplexed face.
"The handle is wet," he said standing up. "Now why might that be…?"
"...That's peculiar," spoke Hardwick. "Mrs. Rothman, would you happen to know anything about that? I'm assuming this is one of your hammers."
The judge answered with a weary sigh. "You're correct it is one of mine, but I haven't the slightest as to why it's wet. I keep them upstairs in my studio. It shouldn't even be down here…"
"Wet, schmet! What difference does it make?" stomped Ackerman, red in the face. "Somebody here killed her with it! Now, which one of you did it?!"
No one made a sound. Everyone shifted uncomfortably, where they stood.
"Confess already!" he pointed.
"Do you really think you're going to get a confession in that manner?" snapped Edgeworth.
"W-well," started Hardwick fanning himself with money as beads of sweat rolled off his forehead. "Let's think back. Where was everyone during the blackout?"
"Noa and I were in the kitchen," said Mrs. Rothman.
"And Mr. Edgeworth and I were in the lounge," I spoke.
"Jamison and I were in the hall," huffed Ackerman. "Can't say I know where you were."
"I was there, but behind the stairwell. I had another call I needed to take," Hardwick said. "...So besides me, the only other person's alibi who is unaccounted for is you, Mr. Dawson."
Finn's eyes widened. "M-me? I was in the bathroom."
"Huuuh? But isn't that right next to the study?" asked Ingrid.
Ackerman glared at him. "Pretty suspicious if you ask me. It would have been easy for you to sneak into the study and slip back into the bathroom."
He raised his hands up, sweating profusely. "N-no! It's not like that at all! I just needed to let nature run its course, alright?!"
"Hmph. A likely story."
Finn was going to protest, but his words whatever they had been drowned out by the sound of items hitting the wooden floor with a loud clank. We turned our heads in the direction of the noise to see Noa, standing in the doorway staring at the body.
After taking a second to collect her bearings, she started picking up the rather large flashlights off the ground. "M-my apologies...I returned with the flashlights...There aren't many, only four, so it'd be for the best if you decided to share them."
Without hesitation I walked over and took one off her hands. Ackerman, Jamison, and Mrs. Rothman took the others. I noticed that these were rather different from regular flashlights I had used before. These had a handle on the side.
"What's the handle for?" I asked the maid.
"These are crank lights. Instead of being powered by batteries, they're powered by rotating or cranking the handle. That's how the light is generated."
"Oh, that's pretty cool." It meant I would never run out of light. At least this was one bit of good news.
"It's all well that we have lights, but what now?" Ackerman asked folding his arms.
"We investigate this room for clues that will direct us to the perpetrator," said Edgeworth.
"Great idea! I'm ready to help in anyway possible!" Finn said excitedly raising an arm, smacking Ackerman directly in the face.
"Hnn...You moron! Do you ever watch what you're doing?!" Ackerman spat, clocking the other man over the head with the flashlight.
"Ow...Sorry…" Dawson frowned rubbing his head. "I...just wanna find the killer…"
"Likewise. Whoever did this to Harriet and William won't get away with this," said Mrs. Rothman gravely. "Let's do our best."
With that, people began searching the room for any incriminating evidence. Edgeworth and Hardwick examined the area around the body, while everyone else spread out to different sections of the room. Jamison and Dawson checked the fireplace, Noa and Mrs. Rothman searched around the desk, and Ackerman and I looked under chairs and loungers. After some time, it was clear that our investigation was turning up nothing. Whoever this killer was, they were very careful about leaving behind many clues. Annoyed and exhausted, everyone split up and went their separate ways to investigate other places for evidence. Of course, Edgeworth wanted to do one last cursory check before leaving.
"Sir, I think we've looked at every suspicious nook and cranny in this room," I said steadily growing more exasperated by the second.
It was with great reluctance that he stepped away from the corpse. "I suppose you're correct."
Finally. I was tired of seeing this room. I was on my out of there, until I thought I heard a creaking of floorboards. I turned around to see Edgeworth picking up a small piece of paper from the floor.
I walked over to him. "What's that?"
Whatever it was, it had caught him off guard because he definitely looked a bit shaken. "It's a note, which marks down the 'bad'."
"A-are you for real?" I asked feeling a chill run down my spine.
He passed the note over to me. Its contents read:
Bad:
William Breckenridge: Accomplice to murder.
Harriet Irving: Murderer.
Ingrid Jamison: Bomber.
I could only stare. What was I looking at? Was this legitimate? Mr. Breckenridge and now Ms. Irving were dead. And the reasons behind their murders were accurate. But Ms. Jamison was listed as a...bomber? That just seemed unreal to me. Could that really be true?
This was the only thing written in neat handwriting on the note. What was the status on everyone else? Did they have others written down? With a bitter taste in my mouth, I returned the note to Edgeworth. "What do you make of that? Do you think the killer wrote that?"
"There's a strong possibility," he said as he put the paper away in his pocket. "I can't think of anyone else who would write something like this."
"Uh, so you think we're safe from being killed?" I asked hopefully. "I mean, we're not 'bad'."
"...Let's not jump to any conclusions. Stay vigilant."
I frowned slightly. I knew that he was right, but there was nothing I wanted more than to be safe. If the killer wrote that, they might change their mind or something. Who was really to say?
Edgeworth probably saw my agitation, for it was then he suggested we move on to other unvisited locations as well as talk to Ms. Jamison when we found her.
October 17th, 9:59 PM
Library, Rothman Estate
With no one present in the hall, it was decided we'd check a room first. We ended up in the library, a quaint room with a massive collection of books on at least four hard to reach shelves. I liked the feel of it, perhaps because it reminded me of home being surrounded by all these books. The bright lighting also helped, as it was not so dull and dreary as the other rooms we'd seen prior.
Edgeworth began looking around a couple of tables and chairs, while I decided to browse the shelves.
(A lot of these books are law books. Too bad. It'd be cool to read some classics in a creepy mansion…)
"I hope you're searching for clues, and not browsing book titles," I heard Edgeworth remark from behind me.
I quickly shoved a book back in its proper location forcibly between these two tomes. I turned around with a grin. "Of course not...I was looking for a secret passageway trigger! You know, like the movies."
"Is that right?" Mr. Edgeworth just looked at me, arms folded, completely unimpressed.
"Yep. Nothing happening here, so, I'll just...look over there," I said going in the opposite direction away from him. Of course, it was then I would stumble directly into something.
"Ow!" I bumped my head on a wooden ladder, that rolled down as soon as I hit it. I didn't pay it much mind earlier because it kinda blended in with everything else in the room. "Stupid ladder! What are you doing there, getting in my way for?"
"I'm sure if you keep talking to it, it'll most assuredly listen to you," Edgeworth remarked dryly. "After all, ladders are sentient beings like the rest of us."
"...Shut up," I flushed. "I hate ladders anyway. Stepladders are better."
"I fail to see the difference."
"It's in the name. It has steps."
"You still have to climb it. How is that different from a regular ladder? Are those not steps?"
"No! Okay, step ladders have steps like a stairway. You know, like Stairway to Heaven," I said tilting my head to the side. "But in this case it'd be like Stepladder to Heaven."
"That sounds like an awfully short climb to heaven," Edgeworth remarked tapping a finger on an arm. "I'd rather stay on the ground, in case of earthquakes."
"But...oh, forget it," I sighed. I was going to move the ladder back to its proper place, but that was when I noticed that a book was sticking out to the left of it, high up.
"Hey, Mr. Edgeworth, I see a book sticking out up there," I pointed.
"And?"
"Let's fix it!"
He took a quick glance at the book I was observing and seemed to stiffen. "You can fix it if you like."
(...In other words, you don't like heights, do you?)
"Okay. Mind holding the ladder for me?" I asked.
The prosecutor nodded. After placing the flashlight I had on a nearby table, I walked over to the ladder and began to climb up slowly. Edgeworth held onto the ladder from below. I stopped midstep.
"Hey. You're not looking directly up, right?" I just realized how high up I was going.
"No. Why?"
"Uh, well, I just remembered I was wearing a skirt so..."
He paused. "You're unbelievable. First, I'm a robot, and now you're insinuating that I'm some kind of pervert."
"I didn't say that-"
"Your imagination has no bounds does it?"
Ugh. I couldn't win tonight. "Well, at least I can say I have more imagination in a finger than you do your whole body."
"Yes, and at what price?" he asked. "Reality."
Stupid jerk. I had no comeback. Edgeworth always liked to be the one to finish something. It was rare that I won many fights.
A few more steps up and I had reached the spot. I pushed the book back into its place, but nothing happened. I frowned. That was a bummer. I was about to climb back down, but that's when I got a glint of something shiny a couple feet away on another shelf. I couldn't quite make it out, but it was weird that something was up here.
"Mr. Edgeworth, can you push the ladder over about two feet to the right? I see something on another shelf."
He told me to hold on tightly as he pushed it to the side. Once I was secured, I climbed up two more steps and looked down at the top of the shelf. "Huh?"
"What is it?"
I picked up this silver, I guessed wire. There wasn't too much of it and it was rather thin. Looking at it closer, I noticed these specks of red…"Ah! I-I think this has blood on it…!"
I climbed down, carrying the wire. Once my feet were on solid ground I passed it over to Edgeworth who examined it.
"This is just as I thought. This must be what actually killed Mr. Breckenridge," he said. "And whoever did it went through a great deal to hide it."
"But why?" I asked. "Ms. Irving's death was simple. A single blow to the head with a hammer, which was left at the scene."
I wasn't sure if he realized it, but it looked as though he were giving the metal wire in his possession the death glare. I wondered if even he was growing agitated.
"I don't think there's anymore to this room," he began, putting the wire away in a pants pocket.
I nodded. I guessed we were finished, so I returned to the table and picked up the flashlight. Once he saw me ready, he moseyed out while I followed.
October 17th, 10:07 PM
Kitchen, Rothman Estate
The kitchen was this bright sunshiny yellow color. Pots and pans hung above the stove, while a set of knives were hung on the wall. It had all the regular furnishings of a kitchen- cabinets, sink, table, fridge, and freezer.
It was perfectly normal and in order. Everything except Ms. Jamison who was looking around in a pot that was set on top of the stove.
"Ms. Jamison?" I asked.
She dropped the pot lid with a clang, and clumsily placed it back where it belonged with a bit of a struggle. "You scared Ingrid, stinky!"
"S-sorry."
"I take it you've been searching the kitchen?" Edgeworth inquired.
"Yeah!" she twirled, dress looking like a flower petal in the breeze. "But...Ingrid hasn't found anything useful so far."
"I see," he said. "Ms. Jamison. There's something I'd like to ask you about."
"Huuuh? What is it pinky? Is it about your lack of fluidity?" she giggled.
"W-what? No…" he shook his head.
TAKE THAT!
She was sweating buckets. "W-w-w-what is that?"
"We believe this may have come from the killer," Edgeworth began. "Thus, I'd like to know if this is true, about this listing you as a bomber."
"That's crazy…! I'm no bomber! ...Ingrid would never do something like that," she said quietly, looking a bit more serious than usual. "You see my leg?"
She lifted up her dress slightly to us, putting her right leg on display. It was a prosthetic, starting from what would be her knee and downward. "I lost it in a bombing incident. I was lucky I survived with only a missing leg. My friend didn't make it. So, I have to ask why would I try to harm myself or my friend?"
(Her demeanor completely changed…)
"While both events are unfortunate...I'm not convinced this is the entire story. Mr. Breckenridge was killed because he was an accomplice to murder and Ms. Irving killed because she was a murderer who was never convicted for her crimes. Thus far, this list has been accurate. So, I shall ask once more, what truly happened?"
"Pinky...what don't you understand? Are you so heartless as to not understand friendship?" she asked blankly shoving her hands into her dress pocket. "I'd never hurt her… As far as I know it was a car bombing, but the criminal was caught a long time ago."
"So, that's it?" I asked.
"Yup."
I glanced at Edgeworth who was tapping an index finger on his arm. He didn't look convinced and I couldn't blame him. I wasn't moved either. But not like we had anymore information to go on and it didn't look like she was willing to further discuss the matter.
"Fine. In that case, have you noticed anything unusual this evening?" Edgeworth asked changing topics.
"Ummm…" she tilted her head side to side. "No...wait. Ingrid does remember something odd. There was this music playing upstairs."
"Music?" I asked. "When did you hear that?"
"Ingrid thinks...it was before the blackout. A few minutes before it."
Why was there music playing? That couldn't have been a coincidence right?
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. That was a scream that could pierce the heavens.
"Wh-what's going on?" Ingrid paled.
Edgeworth tensed up. "I don't know, but we shouldn't waste anytime checking it out. "
"I-It sounded like it was outside in the hall," I said.
October 17th, 10:12 PM
Main Hall, Rothman Estate
The three of us rushed out of the kitchen and into the hall, to see Ackerman standing nearby the study, outside of the bathroom, trembling, his flashlight on the ground nearby.
"Wh...what the hell, is this!?"
When we made it down, we saw exactly what he was talking about. In the bathroom, there was a body- head submerged in the toilet. Without seeing the face, I could already tell who it was. The green suit told me that it was Hardwick.
Edgeworth hesitatingly walked into the bathroom and pulled Hardwick's head out of the toilet bowl, laying him out on the floor. He checked for a pulse, but there wasn't any sign of life. He was blue in the face at that.
"Pervy...is he really…?"
"He's dead," Edgeworth said, almost tiredly, as though he had had enough.
I felt cold on the inside. Dead. Dead. Dead. How much longer would this last...how much more of this would we have to endure?
Soon enough, I heard more voices behind us. The others probably heard the scream as well.
"Don't tell me...Oh, Andrew," Mrs. Rothman said deeply hurt. "Why?"
"A-again! Why does this keep happening?" cried Dawson.
I looked at Ackerman. He didn't look so good. His face was turning a shade of purple and he was cracking his knuckles over and over.
"I'm done with this…"
"Stephen?"
The blond shook like a tree branch in some major wind. "We've been searching...and investigating and for what…? We haven't found a damn thing...I can't do this. One of you is a murderer...and it's not stopping...I can't trust anyone. No, there's not a single person here to trust!"
"Let's just remain calm-" Edgeworth began.
Ackerman backed away. "Get away from me. If anyone comes near me, I'll...I'll do whatever it takes to live! I can't die here...I have to get home...I have to see David again!"
With that he bolted down the hall into the ballroom and slammed the door shut behind him. We all stood in silence, unsure of how to process just what was happening. Mrs. Rothman winced, while Noa stood beside her looking uncomfortable.
"Everyone...let's remained focused," said Edgeworth. "We can't give up now."
The room was quiet. Sullen. Everyone just wanted to get out of here. Ignoring the mood, the demon prosecutor returned to Hardwick's remains. I figured I should do likewise and continue helping when I could. Even though he was kind of annoying, I didn't think he deserved that. Even if he had dirty laundry of some sort.
"This is too much," Mrs. Rothman said as she rubbed her temples.
"Do you have an idea as to why Mr. Hardwick might be killed?" I asked.
She clasped her hands firmly with a frown. "Heavens no. He was a good man, although he was a bit of a ladykiller."
(Just a bit?)
"But…" the judge bit her lip. "I'm more concerned about Stephen right now."
I cocked my head. "Why? I don't blame him for freaking out at finding the body. Even if that was, um, extreme."
Mrs. Rothman shook her head, pulling down one of the sleeves of her suit jacket. "I know it seems like he's...a difficult person, but he wasn't always like that."
"You mean he wasn't always abrasive?"
There was a slight glint in her eyes, perhaps a bit of warmness to them. "Stephen was a sweet boy, perhaps a rough around the edges at times, but never so hostile. It was a few years ago, after his father's death when he began to change."
"So that David person was his...?"
"Younger brother. He's no other family left."
"Ah. That's a shame," I said wondering what it must be like to have only one relative alive. It seemed it was the case here for many of the people I encountered.
"...If you'll excuse me. I'm going to see if I can convince him to leave the ballroom," she said. And with a worried expression she left the room. Noa followed.
(I guess that's all I'll get for now.)
I turned my attention back to Mr. Edgeworth. He was flipping through the pages of the small notebook.
"Did you find that on him?"
He nodded as he shut the book. "There's nothing else written in here."
"...Nothing else?"
Edgeworth began tapping his temple. "Yes, for the paper I discovered earlier came from this notebook."
"W-what!? It came from him?"
"Huh?" asked Ms. Jamison from behind me grasping my shoulders. "If that paper you showed Ingrid earlier is from pervy's book then doesn't that mean…"
My mouth hung open. Hardwick, the pervert was the killer? Unbelievable! That bastard… He was the last one to arrive and probably was the one that locked us in! And then how he was on his phone...what if he was taking orders to kill?
Dawson looked around questioningly, sweating. "Mean what? What's everyone getting worked up about?"
"He was the killer, but now that he's dead... that means we're safe now, right?" I asked.
Mr. Edgeworth shook his head. "I wish that were so, but now we have a new problem on our hands. If Mr. Hardwick was our killer...who killed him?"
The three of us paused. Somebody...killed the killer. And we hadn't any idea who did. Whoever they were, they were roaming around amongst us.
Finn placed both hands on the side of his face. "Two killers?! T-this is more of a mess than when I try prosecute!"
"Ingrid refuses to accept this! One bad guy is enough!" she stomped.
Edgeworth said nothing, but continued checking the possessions. Now, he was reading some other paper, a newspaper clipping.
"So, what's that?"
"An article about an alleged super assassin. You can read it yourself," he said as he stood up, passing me the piece of paper. The article read:
Super Assassin J Strikes Again!
The mysterious assassin only known by 'J' made yet another mark this Thursday at the Greenwood Hospital. The victim targeted this time was a Mr. Jonathan Gilliam, a general practitioner of ten years. Gilliam was 37 years old, leaving behind a wife and two children.
Gilliam was rumored to have botched two major surgeries in the past. It is believed that this was the motivation for the assassination. His body was discovered in his office strangled to death with the use of a garotte wire, which fits the M.O of 'J'. 'J' uses various methods to execute their victims, but the most used method is bringing about assphyxiation in a number of ways. Little else is known about the identity of 'J'.
"What…? What kind of name is 'J'? Especially for an assassin? I'd pick something like X," I mused aloud.
"Did you say J the assassin?" Finn asked anxiously. "That is one very creepy fellow!"
Edgeworth folded his arms. "You know about them?"
"Who doesn't?!" he asked pulling both cheeks out with his hands. "Erm...wait. You two are only visiting so I guess you don't know…Well. This assassin character has been roaming London for about 8 months now, killing whoever they deem fit… they only sent a note to the police once stating who they were. Or else the police would be totally clueless. Along with the asphyxiations, their signature is denoted by how little evidence is left behind at a crime scene..."
He froze and his eyes enlarged. "Ah! N-no! I-it can't be!"
"W-what is it?" I asked.
"T-the asphyxiations, the lack of evidence, the motivations for murder...this sounds like the assassin!" Dawson shivered.
"Two killers and now and assassin?! Ingrid thinks this is ridiculous! Even for musical standards!" With that she shook her head and stomped off down the hall towards the kitchen. I couldn't fault her. It was sounding crazier and crazier…
"Ah, w-well, what's there to worry about? The assassin is dead," Finn smiled. "We just need to find his killer and congratulate them!"
"What is wrong with you?!" boomed Edgeworth.
"Eek! S-sorry! Sorry! I just can't help but be glad...now I know I've been spared from my crimes," he sighed.
"And what crimes did you commit?"
The freckle faced man bowed his head. "W-well, you see...hm well, it should be safe now that the killer's dead. I'm terrible at my job, very bad, you see. I barely won any cases. And my opposition wanted to take advantage of it...so we struck a deal. If I threw my cases I'd make a lot of money… it was easier that way. It meant I didn't have to try and fail anymore. I simply failed!"
The demon prosecutor glared the man down. "That's obstructing the law!"
"I know...I know I'm just no good! I'm sorry, very sorry! But it's the only thing I could do right...and I did need a lot of money so, I did what I thought was best for me. An eternal loser might as well get something for their failures when they help others succeed! ...I know I'm utter garbage. I was just born like that." He frowned slightly, but then quickly rebounded with a smile and wave. "Well, now that you see how pathetic I am, I'm going to make my leave. Toodles."
He picked up the flashlight left on the ground and shuffled off down the hall and into the lounge. Edgeworth and I simply watched in amazement.
(Are there any words for a person like that…?)
Knowing Edgeworth would be fuming about the injustice he just listened to, I suggested we move on. The two of us moved out farther into the hallway.
"Stephen, please…"
"LEAVE ME ALONE!"
Down the hall, Mrs. Rothman and Noa standing outside the ballroom door.
"Madam...I do not believe he will leave. I think it is best we leave him to his own devices," Noa said walking away from the door.
"I suppose so." The judge sighed as she turned away from the door and walked up into the middle of the hall.
"Ah, Miles. How goes the investigation?"
"It's progressing." Edgeworth walked to meet them. "To cover all ground, can you tell me what rooms are upstairs?"
Mrs. Rothman tilted her head, swinging her ponytail. "Let's see...there's my studio, my bedroom, Noa's bedroom and the attic."
"I see. Is there any room upstairs that would have music playing from inside of it?" he asked.
"Music? ...That would be the studio. I have a stereo system there. Why do you ask?"
Edgeworth tapped his index finger on his arm. "It was reported that there was music playing upstairs before the blackout. I thought this would be worth looking into."
"How...odd," she paused. "Please, do whatever needs to be done. Investigate to your hearts content."
"Thank you," Edgeworth bowed. "Lyn, let us make haste."
October 17th, 10:18 PM
Studio, Rothman Estate
After the brief journey up the flight of stairs, we had entered the first door on the right. Inside was spacious; as it needed to be to carry all of the art materials. There was wood, inks, paints, knives, pencils, brushes and other tools of the trade set around the room. Above the long table, there was a set of three hammers hanging. Yet, there were four hooks.
"We can now definitely confirm that the hammer that was used to kill Ms. Irving came from over there," remarked Edgeworth observing the empty space.
I nodded. "It still doesn't explain the wetness, though."
He traced the board in which the hammers were suspended with a couple of fingers. "Wherever it came from, it didn't originate from this board or anywhere in this room. Everything is completely dry."
I guessed we would have to figure out where the water came from later. On the table, there were art supplies and a bunch of papers strewn about- some sketches in pencils of people and scenery and ink prints of ...interesting looking designs. I couldn't really wrap my head around them, but they were certainly different. But amongst the art, there was a paper that stood out. It looked familiar. I picked it up and read:
To A Friend,
You know what you did.
Run and hide as you might, but I know the truth about your sudden career change. The guilt caught up to you, didn't it? But not enough to turn yourself in, right officer?
But I won't have to reveal it to the world if you help me carry out my plan.
It's your choice.
Love,
A Mate
(Is this blackmail? ...It's kinda hard to read with this shitty chicken scratch.)
I showed the note to Edgeworth. He paled slightly. "This is identical to the note that was read in the study. Whoever wrote that note is the same author of this one."
"Well, it would have to be Hardwick, right?" I asked.
The prosecutor looked uncomfortable. "Perhaps that should be rethought. Mr. Hardwick would make more sense as an accomplice than actual assassin. This note implies that someone else help with this plan, perhaps it could be the reason he had that note of wrongdoers with him."
I groaned. This was getting more complicated. Just who the hell was taking a part in this fucking nightmare?
We couldn't dwell on the note forever, so we turned our attention to the ground, next to the table. As there was a huge black stereo. Nothing was playing now, but the red light that shone indicated that it was on. Edgeworth took a closer look at it, observing if the radio stations were on and if there were any CDs or cassettes in the stereo. Sure enough, he found a CD was present.
"I believe that before the blackout that CD was playing music. If it were the radio, it would still be playing now," Edgeworth noted arms folded.
"But why would someone turn it on before the blackout anyway?"
"It must have served some type of purpose…" he closed his eyes as he tapped a finger on his arm. "Perhaps, it went on before the blackout to cause it."
I scratched my head. "To cause it?"
"The stereo is plugged into the outlet. It's possible it could have helped bring about a power shortage. Meaning that the outage wasn't natural."
I swallowed. The whole thing was just creeping me out. The amount of effort and forethought that went into this was scary.
After some time, looking around we decided that there wasn't much else of use in the room and went back into the hallway. As I was going to ask our next move, we were covered in a shroud of darkness. I felt my stomach drop. The fucking lights were out again.
"You have the flashlight, don't you?"
"Oh!" I had nearly forgotten somehow that I was grasping the huge flashlight in my hand for a while. It was like some other attachment to my body at this point. I felt around for the handle and quickly began rotating it. Eventually, we were treated to a large beam of light, illuminating the path ahead. I held the device tightly, damned happy to have it.
As my breathing steadied, I noticed that there was a peculiar smell filling the air. It wasn't a good one either. It was like the scent of plastic, but if the plastic were burning. It was gross.
"Do you smell that?" I asked covering my nose. "It's terrible."
"Yes, it's rather foul. But still not as terrible as your incident from earlier."
"Shut up," I muttered. "But what is that? Is...the killer doing something?"
"...I don't see why they'd be burning plastic at a time like this," he folded his arms. "But it would be a good idea to see where the source is coming from."
It smelled like it was originating from somewhere downstairs. I cranked the handle to keep the light strong as we walked towards the stairwell.
THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!
I stopped dead in my tracks and so did Edgeworth. The hell was that?
THUMP! THUMP!
The noises were coming from the very end of the hallway.
THUMP!
The sweat was pouring off my forehead as I kept turning and turning that handle. Edgeworth took a step forward in the direction of the noises.
"What are you doing?" I hissed out.
"We need to investigate the sounds," he said matter of fact.
"No! We're already at the stairs, let's just go to the weird smell instead!"
He shook his head, arms folded. "We can't just ignore it. It could be a lead."
I turned around, no longer facing him. "See that? I just ignored it. You can do it too."
THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!
I froze, heart pounding against my chest as though it were ready to escape my body. I didn't see it, but I heard footsteps moving away from me. I turned around with the light, to see Edgeworth moving along towards those noises.
Hesitatingly, I followed behind. "You can't do this. This is...just...like horror movie 101! Never follow the creepy sounds if you want to live."
"Lyn, this isn't a horror movie. You've watched too many of them."
"Hmph. Have you considered that maybe you haven't watched enough? No, of course not! " I retorted cranking the light.
We moved down the hall past what was the studio and what I guessed was a bedroom. The wind howled and moaned as tree branches scratched against the windows at the end of the hall. The rain pounded against the house with the intensity of a gorilla slamming its fists into its chest.
THUMP!
We passed yet another door. The sound wasn't coming out of there...meaning it was from the very last door at the end of the hall. We stopped out in front of the plain wooden door, as I shined the light upon it.
Edgeworth reached for the handle. "I'm going to open it slowly."
I watched as he placed his hand on the knob, turning it a quarter of the way there before I grasped his hand, covering it with my own cold and clammy one.
"W-wait!" I pleaded. "W-we don't have to do this. Why don't we just go and find the others and come back?"
"It would take too long to gather everyone. I'm certain the opportunity would be long gone."
"B-But what if...the killer's behind the door? What then?"
"Then it would be the perfect chance to stop them from doing anymore killing."
It was pissing me off how bullheaded he was being. "...Mr. Edgeworth. Are. You. Stupid?! You realize, that we're lawyers, not action heroes, right?!" I breathed deeply. "Let's just walk away from it, while we still have the chance!"
"...If we can stop the killer here. It can ensure everyone's survival." The prosecutor spoke lowly. "As much as it is an attractive offer to walk away from this...it wouldn't be right."
"Then it's wrong to want to survive with both our lives intact? It's a crime to want to keep living?"
"Lyn…"
"Look," I began. "I almost died once and I don't want to go through that again! ...And I...I ...don't want to see you hurt either!"
A heavy silence hung above us. The floorboards in the hall creaked and popped, as the winds and water raged on outside.
"Listen to me. I won't let anything happen to you. I promise," he said quietly.
"But...what about you? What if something happened to you? What would I do then? You're the one pushing the whole investigation forward."
"...I'm certain you'll handle the rest of the investigation on my behalf."
"W-what?!" I felt as though my eyes would pop out of their sockets. "There's no way I'll figure this out, I'm not you-"
"Please."
...It was just one word that silenced me. One simple word. One he didn't say all too often. It was strange to hear with the lack of demanding authority he normally held, replaced with a submissive tone. I swallowed. I couldn't imagine trying to figure this whole thing out by myself...we were struggling enough as it is...but could I really turn down the request? Said to me like that…? Why was it so hard to say no to him…?
Just then, I started to realize...what he meant. It wasn't about playing hero for him...he truly was moved to act because of his morals. To act in self preservation right now, would be unforgivable if there indeed was a chance to prevent evil to help protect others. He...really was a good person.
I said no more, and released a little sigh, knowing that once his mind was made up, there was nothing I could do to stop him, because that's the kind of man he was. I liberated the prisoner from my hold, leaving it grip the flashlight in possession, as my objection went overruled. He didn't move for a moment, taking a breath, exhaling, before rotating the knob all the way. He pushed the wooden door in, the creaking sound echoing down the hallway, as I focused the light source into the room.
October 17th, 10:25 PM
Attic, Rothman Estate
We moved into the room carefully, side by side. With each step there was a creak in the floorboards. I shined the light straight ahead- there was nothing in front besides a big window with curtains, in which one could hear the pitter patter of the rain coming down. To the left side, I saw an old trunk on the ground with a dirtied rag doll sitting on top of it. Nearby there was a clothes rack with some dresses hung up. On closer inspection, the clothes smelled musty as though they hadn't been worn in a while.
"Okay, well I don't see anything here, so let's go," I pleaded.
"We haven't even checked the other side yet."
I frowned as I cranked the light seeing as it's power was beginning to fade. This room looked as though it were nothing more than storage. So, perhaps maybe something had just fallen in here and we happened to hear it. At least, that's what I was telling myself for each minute we spent in the room.
Asked to shine my light on the other half of the room, I saw a twin sized bed next to a small dresser. It had a sewing machine on top. I guessed Mrs. Rothman was an arts and crafts person to the max.
There wasn't much to see, since the attic was a small open space. The only other thing on this side was this mannequin standing a few feet away. It was average sized and wearing this black cloak, which offset with its pale white face. I shuddered. The wind cried.
I could feel the sweat around the handle of the flashlight, making it more difficult to grasp."Mr. Edgeworth...there's nothing here. Whatever made the sound is gone so can we just go?"
He grunted as he took a step to the mannequin examining it. "I suppose... hm?"
"W-what is it?" I asked.
"This doesn't feel like a- NGH!"
Edgeworth stumbled backwards. The cloaked mannequin...moved. It was moving. That...thing pushed him… The prosecutor barely recovered from the knockback. The mannequin lunged at him like a wild animal in the jungle. Edgeworth shielded himself with his arms raised, feet pressed into the ground.
"L-Lyn! Get out of here now!"
My whole body shook. I couldn't breathe. I clung to the light, bringing it closer to my chest.
"B-but y-you won't be able to see…"
"Just leave and get the others!" he snapped.
I swallowed hard. I shouldn't leave him alone. But what else could I do? I wasn't strong enough to fight. I carefully took a few steps backward, never turning away. The mannequin and Edgeworth were wrestling with each other in the middle of the room. I ran out into the hall. I ran as hard as I could.
"H-HELP! I- I NEED HELP!" I cried running down to the stairwell. The others would have to be around somewhere. I hoped.
I tripped over my own feet down the stairs, stumbling over a few steps. Luckily, for me there was a railing that I could grasp before I went down any further. It took a second to regain my composure.
SLAM!
I stood up as straight as a line. What...was that…? It came from upstairs. Upstairs. My heart rattled against my ribcage. I turned back around and bolted up. I ran down to the attic door. It was shut. It shouldn't be shut. Why was it shut?
The light went out. I bit my lip. I turned that handle like I had never turned anything before in my life. Eventually, a beam of light blasted out. Sweating, I clutched the knob with my free hand. I pulled and turned. Nothing. Fuck. I slammed on the door with my fists.
"M-MR. EDGEWORTH! MR. EDGEWORTH!"
No answer. I heard nothing from beyond the other side of the door. I rammed my fists against the wood until my hands were numb. I gave up. I flew down the hall and jumped down those stairs. I hollered and yelled for anyone nearby. God. Somebody had to come.
In the hall, a small flame emerged from the back. Under the glow of the dim light, and then under the my powerful flashlight beam, I saw the image of Ackerman cautiously emerging from the ballroom.
"W-what's going on? Why the screaming?" he asked jittery.
"Y-you gotta help! Mr. Edgeworth is fighting some… mannequin! Alone! I can't break open the door!"
He looked at me like I had three heads. "What?"
"I- I don't know! It could be the killer! But it doesn't matter! He just needs help!"
"A-alright…let's go!"
Together we ran back up the stairs and down to the attic door. Ackerman stood back a few feet and ran into the door breaking it down. I shined the light into the room left and right. No trace of anyone. No creep. No Edgeworth. The sewing machine was knocked over on the ground. And nearby was a small smattering of blood.
I could feel the bile emerge in the back of my throat.
"Mr. Edgeworth…"
(Oh God. Where are you? Why did I leave? I should have stayed…)
Ackerman was pale as he looked down at the blood. "Fantastic. Blood and nobody's left. The hell could they go to? Through the window?"
I glanced in the direction of the window. It was closed. If they had left through there, it would be opened up with rain pouring through. "There has to be another way."
"Then how else would they get out? You think there's some hidden passage in here?"
"I...There must be! I can't think of anything else! Let's look!"
I kept my hand on the handle, not once ever stopping my rotation. I'd find where Edgeworth was. He'd be okay. We'd just have to find the secret of this room...because there's no way that he could be… I shined the light in all directions as Ackerman and I searched for any sign of a hidden route or passage out of the room.
After some time Ackerman stopped me. "Hey, it's too dark up here. Even with that light...I don't think we'll find anything like this."
I continued looking. "I need to find him. I need to know that he's okay."
I felt a strong hold on my arm. "We need to go. Hell, search another room even, but you're not gonna find him like this."
"But-" I tried to break free of him, but he pulled me out of the room. I cranked the light about to attempt to bolt back in.
"I-is anyone up here?"
I stopped dead in my tracks. Ackerman let go of me. Straight down the hall was another light. As they approached, I saw it was the clearly disturbed Mrs. Rothman.
"Mrs. Rothman? What's wrong?" I asked.
"I came up because I thought I heard screams...is everything alright?"
"No...Mr. Edgeworth was attacked by someone who may be the killer and I don't know where they are now."
"What? Oh my goodness...that's at least two people missing."
"Two?" asked Stephen. "Who else is gone?"
"When the lights went out, Noa vanished. I've been searching for her ever since. I don't suppose you've encountered her?"
We shook our heads. She frowned. "I haven't seen anyone else either. Let them be alright…"
With each second passing I was growing colder and colder...where was everyone else? Surely, they had to have heard me? Right? Did that creep get to the rest of them? No. They were probably fine. Everyone would be okay. We'd get out of here alive.
There was a flash of color. The lights. The lights were flickering on and off, trying to come back on. It took a second to stabilize, but when it did, it seemed that the lights and electricity reemerged. The three of us sighed a sigh of mild relief. It was one less problem to deal with.
"It should be easier to look for people now that there's light again. But it might be safer to stay together...if only because I don't think either of you are the killer," Ackerman said arms folded.
"I agree," nodded the judge.
I impatiently tapped my foot. "Let's do this already."
Ackerman and Mrs. Rothman wanted to check downstairs first. The blond convinced me that perhaps, if there was indeed a passageway, it led to somewhere on the first floor. It was a valid point so I went along with it. That and I didn't want to be alone after what I saw.
October 17th, 10:35 PM
Dining Hall, Rothman Estate
We went down and checked the lounge, study, and bathroom first. Everything was just how it was left, with the bodies still there. Next stop was the dining hall. When we walked in, I had been expecting to see nothing, but when I saw Finn limping around a bloodstained table, holding his stomach, with blood gushing out of one of his hands, I could say that I was shocked to say the least.
"W-what the hell happened to you?" asked Stephen.
"I was stabbed by a person in a white mask and cloak...I was too incompetent to stop them..." Dawson quietly laughed, as though to hide the pain and discomfort he was experiencing.
My eyes widened. "So, it wasn't just me who saw that thing!"
"Y-you too…?"
I didn't think I could feel this sick in one night, but this night proved me wrong. That creep was willing to do damage. I really hoped Mr. Edgeworth was alright. I could hope for unscathed, but I'd rather alive than the other alternative.
Mrs. Rothman was shaky. "Oh, dear! How badly hurt are you?!"
"I-I'm not too bad… I think I just need to stop the bleeding from my hand most."
"Just have a seat! I'll be right back with some towels!" she said as she rushed into the kitchen.
Stephen and I as best we could, brought Finn to a vacant seat and carefully sat him down.
"What exactly happened?" Ackerman asked.
"I came in here to investigate and as I was doing that, that's when the power went out. And sure enough this weirdo in some costume came in and attacked...I don't remember what happened after. I-I passed out."
"I'm sorry that that happened to you," I frowned, recalling my own experience of being attacked. "Just...hang in there until help arrives."
He forced a smile. "T-thank you. You're...far too kind to someone like me."
Mrs. Rothman exploded through the door connected to the kitchen, towels in hand, but with a wild look about her. She went over to Finn with the towels and gently wrapped it around his hand, telling him to hold it there. Once that was done, the judge turned to the rest of us. "In the kitchen...I stepped in blood. I don't want to believe it, but I think someone else is…"
She looked away from Stephen and I, unable to complete the sentence. But we already knew. Ackerman growing paler by the second went through the door first. With no choice, I followed.
October 17th, 10:38 PM
Kitchen, Rothman Estate
Upon entry everything appeared to be normal; the utensils were in place, fridge and freezers were closed as well as cabinets...It was fine. That is until, I saw it. The puddle of blood.
Ackerman stopped. Someone...someone was dead again. The source of the red fluid was coming from underneath the table. I didn't want to look. I didn't want to see anyone else die, but especially not him. If I saw him, I would...no. I didn't move. I watched as Ackerman bravely did the awful honor of bending down and looking under the table as sick as he looked.
From behind, I heard Mrs. Rothman and Finn enter the kitchen. In a few moments, that felt like years, Stephen was up on his feet with a pained expression on his face. "It's Jamison. Someone got her from behind with a corkscrew...and her leg...her leg is gone..."
"Oh, the poor thing...who would be sick enough to do that?"
"Murder is one thing, but stealing from the dead...is just...so cruel!"
While it was too bad about Ms. Jamison...I could feel the tension in my body release. It wasn't him. Thank God.
I took a breath. I knew I had to look at the body myself since he wasn't around. So, I carefully lowered myself to the floor and took a quick glance under the table. I grimaced. Ms. Jamison was lying face down around a pool of her own blood. I checked her dress pocket, while I was at it, but there was nothing useful in there besides a set of keys and some chapstick. I noticed the bloody corkscrew nearby the corpse. The puncture wound in her neck from it was pretty evident. But what was more evident was her leg...or lack thereof. Her prosthetic was gone. If that wasn't bizarre...then I didn't know what was. Unsettled, I stood up. Why the hell was her leg missing? And where was it?
It was a stupid idea, but I decided to check the fridge, freezer, and oven for any trace of it, but nothing turned up. Perturbed, I left the kitchen. Ackerman, Mrs. Rothman and Dawson followed along tiredly.
October 17th, 10:41 PM
Billiard Room, Rothman Estate
This was the only room on this floor I hadn't seen yet. But I couldn't examine the room, because of the thing right dab in the center of that, that should not be there. The lifeless body of obedient servant lay on the floor next to the billiards table. The worst thing about it was how Noa was only identifiable because of her outfit. Her face was bludgeoned so, that you couldn't make out too many features. Black, blue, and red were now her face. The glasses she wore were broken into pieces. And the weapon that did that to her was...the leg. The missing leg. The prosthetic laid there on the ground covered in blood. I couldn't believe it.
But who couldn't believe it more so than I, was the poor judge, who let out such a wail, that I myself wanted to cry. She dropped to the floor on her knees sobbing uncontrollably. Ackerman placed a hand on her shoulder as he frowned. Dawson limped against the wall sadly looking on. I felt terrible. Terrible that Noa was dead, terrible that Mrs. Rothman was upset, and terrible that I...was mentally relieved, yet again it wasn't Edgeworth's body we found. With each body discovered that wasn't him...I could hope. Keep my hope alive that he'd be okay.
I took another breath. I had to look around on his behalf, so long as he wasn't around. And it was with great hesitation I got near the body. I tried to ignore the face and focus instead upon what items she had in her possession. If I looked at the brutality for too much longer, I'd probably vomit. Reaching into the pocket on the front of her maid outfit, I pulled out something tiny and blue. It looked like a remote control of some sort. I didn't know what it was for, but I figured I should hold onto it. There was nothing else important on her person, so with relief I moved myself away from the body.
If I ignored the fact that there was a corpse of a person I knew, I would think that this room would be a fun room. It had the billiard table, a jukebox, darts, foosball, and even some arcade machines. Though, it was a bit weird to me that the arcade machines and jukebox were on because it looked like this room hadn't been used in a while. It was kinda dusty, so I imagined no one actively spent time here.
Just as I was about quit looking around, I noticed something funny happening with one of the outlets by the jukebox. While there was one plug at the bottom, there was something that looked like a clock plugged in up top. The time on it read, 10:20 PM.
(Isn't this around the time the blackout started?)
That couldn't be a coincidence. Just what was this thing? I walked back over to Ackerman, who had managed to get Mrs. Rothman off the floor and into a chair against the wall. She calmed down somewhat, though the tear stains and red eyes were present. I couldn't help but feel badly for.
I looked at Ackerman. "Hey, can you look over by the jukebox at the plug? There's some weird clock thing over there."
"You got some weird ways of saying things," he commented as he walked over to the jukebox. It didn't take him very long to examine the device. "You twit, it's a timer. It looks like it was set around the same time as the last blackout too."
"Then this was planned," I mused.
He folded his arms as he walked back over. "Wouldn't be surprised if the first was planned too."
There wasn't much else in here that was of interest. I looked at Mrs. Rothman. I would have left her alone, but at this point in her condition, it would just be a bad idea. "Mrs. Rothman...we should leave this room."
The judge sniffed. "Yes, I know...we do need to find what happened to Miles."
"We can check upstairs since we've covered down here," said the blond.
The judge weakly nodded as she rose from her seat slowly. Ackerman lent her his arm to hold onto and she took it. I let them walk out before me and walked with Dawson as support.
October 17th, 10:48 PM
Main hall, Rothman Estate
I didn't get it. Our search of upstairs turned up nothing. Even with the lights on, I couldn't figure out the mystery of that attic. Nothing significant showed up in the bedrooms either. But I was grateful that no other bodies had been discovered. But what were we missing? We checked basically everywhere in the mansion. So...
Where was Edgeworth?
It didn't make any sense. Everyone else had been found, alive or dead. So, just where the hell was he? He wouldn't have left. No. He wouldn't leave me behind, that much I knew.
"I hate to say it, but maybe the guy's not who you think he is," Ackerman said arms folded.
I faced him. "What do you mean by that?"
"What if he's the mastermind behind this whole thing?" he cracked his knuckles.
"That's impossible!"
"Is it? Then why haven't we found him? Maybe what happened in the room was just to trick you!"
To...trick me? No. That couldn't be right. Mr. Edgeworth was a pain in the ass sometimes, but he'd never do something like that- this crazy. No, he was far too sane and moral. But it was strange that he hadn't shown up anywhere.
Wait.
I hastily reached into my pockets. I pulled out my cellphone. I should have thought of it sooner. I flipped it open and dialed his number, praying he'd pick up and answer me with that dumb serious sounding voice. It rang and rang, but no one answered. I was about to give up, until I heard ringing, not from the phone against my ear, but in the hall.
"D-Do you hear that?" I asked in almost a whisper.
Everyone else noded. Ackerman closed his eyes. "It sounds like it's coming from farther down the hall."
As a group, we moved towards the source of the sound. The ringing was its loudest as we stood outside of the library. I swallowed. Should I really go? Did I really want to lose all hope? I was sweating. No, it had to be done. No matter what. I took my final breath before entering.
October 17th, 10:51 PM
Library, Rothman Estate
I dropped my phone. Mr. Edgeworth. Was there. On the ground. There...not moving on the ground...not moving...not...moving….I felt bodies pressed up behind me. They pushed by me, as they walked towards my mentor. Someone squeezed my hand. I could vaguely hear talking, but I couldn't make out the words. After sometime, I couldn't hear them anymore. I could only hear the endless ringing. The sound of my shattered hope.
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.
Letter: Mysterious note sent to Mrs. Rothman the day of the dinner.
Pocket watch: Mr. Breckenridge's missing pocket watch which is set two hours behind schedule.
Photo: A picture of Mr. Breckenridge with Ms. Irving.
Hammer: Weapon used to murder Ms. Irving. For some reason it's handle is wet.
'Bad' Note: Lists those deemed bad, with their crimes noted. Paper comes from Hardwick's notebook.
Metal wire: Suspected real murder weapon of Mr. Breckenridge.
Assassin article: Discusses the mysterious assassin known as 'J'.
Blackmail note: Note that threatens to reveal the crimes of a former officer unless they follow through on a plan.
Corkscrew: Weapon used to murder Ms. Jamison.
Missing leg: Prosthetic leg taken from Ms. Jamison and used to kill Noa.
Remote control: Found on Noa's person. For what use it has, it's unclear.
Timer: Timer set to 10:20 PM around the same time the lights went out.
Profiles:
Maya Fey: Age 19. Probably my best friend at this point.
Miles Edgeworth: Age 26. My mentor. When he's not giving me a hard time, he's kind of nice.
Detective Gumshoe: Age 33. The guy who's saved my hide more times than I can count.
Larry Butz: Age 25. My favorite wannabe casanova.
Judge: Age ?. Old timer judge. No one know his real name.
Mia Fey: Deceased. My spirit guide who pops by occasionally to give advice.
Phoenix Wright: Age 26. The man I'm supposed to be saving. Pretty awesome dude.
Deidra Rothman: Age 45. A patient and kindhearted judge.
Noa Carter: Age 32. Mrs. Rothman's maid. Seems practically robotic.
Finn Dawson: Age 35. A self deprecating prosecutor.
Stephen Ackerman: Age 26. An irritable defense attorney.
William Breckenridge: Age 56. A high and mighty time obsessed judge.
Ingrid Jamison: Age 28. An energetic prosecutor who likes dancing.
Harriet Irving: Age 33. A shrinking violet defense attorney.
Andrew Hardwick: Age 30. A lecherous prosecutor.