AN: Hope everyone had great holidays and is off to a good start for the new year! I have not forgotten about this story...life has been difficult lately, so it had to wait for a while. This chapter was a challenge so I'm glad to have it posted... The next chapter shouldn't take too long to get posted since I have material halfway finished. And I'm really looking forward to posting it hehe. As usual, thanks for your reviews, favs, and follows! Hope you enjoy!
Yashguy65: Thanks, mate!
Litte Birdie: What XD? He's a fucking weebo in our eyes lmao. I'd bet my ass he watches anime haha.
bwburke94: Yep, you're right. That's the job...it's just a matter of time before we get the truth ;-).
DJJ680: Thanks! I'm glad you think so! Thanks for your previous tips! Lol, it's gonna be a hoot when he finds out...
whymiiverse: I'm glad! I think this chapter will be interesting...
Jack54311: Lol thanks! That's probably my favorite scene I've ever written in this story next to Steel Samurai Edgeworth haha.
Ryo: Well, keep reading and you'll find out lol ;)
Spacegoodra: ...And we're back with the latest installment! Will these questions be answered? Or will there be more? Read and see;)!
Val: Thanks! Glad you enjoyed it. Mia does have a lot of stake in it and I hadn't really shown it before. But I feel for her it's a matter of there are only so many risks one can take...
Tina Fairchild: Thank you so much for the nice compliment! I probably will because he's one of my favorite characters. Glad you think I write him well!
JordanPhoenix: Thanks! I didn't like the idea of going back to change that lol, I feel it'd be another story in itself xD. I'd rather make sure Morgan was locked up for good, she's way too dangerous. Yes, that part is kinda lame, but woo for liking the pairing haha! It could only be stink bombs XD. Lyn WOULD know best about the powers of noxious fumes... Lol yeah, Kay is too fun not to utilize. It was deserved, but Lyn wasn't feeling it xD. Yess I think Magshoe is pretty cute!
Lily Fey: Glad it's flowing better now, wasn't a huge fan of the gap but I just had to keep writing something lol. Yeah, it sucks...well I can't make any promises...but you might like what happens in this chapter lol ;). Thanks!
April 19th, 12:35 PM
Drew Studios
Before I knew it, I had been whisked away to this little one-story house virtually in the middle of nowhere, a distance away from the commotion of the city. Could the fakes really be produced here? I watched Ms. Doom carefully approach the flimsy looking door, as though she were unsure of what she was about to do. After a second or two, she pressed the doorbell a couple of times.
"Is this really the right place…?"
"Of course it is! No pussying out now, Mr. Wright," Ms. Doom said with her hands on her hips. "If you think I'm leaving after the drive out here, you'd be mistaken!"
(I did think we might die a few times on the way over here. Her road rage is scary...)
We held our breath, waiting for some time until the door creaked open. A man in a green suit jacket, black turtleneck, and slacks all covered in paint appeared. Even his poofy gray hair was covered in paint.
"How can I help you?" the man asked in a quiet voice.
"You're Drew Misham, right?" Ms. Doom asked. "We just wanted to ask a couple of questions."
Mr. Misham nodded and told us to come in. Ms. Doom stepped in ahead of me.
I stepped inside, feeling strange. This studio had such an unsettling atmosphere. The wooden support beams on the interior, with sickly grey walls. The floorboards were just as pale. For what appeared to be an art studio, the interior design seemed to be lacking in color and design. Besides that, everything seemed cluttered; we could barely move around without nearly bumping into some art equipment or furniture. A blue-haired little girl in a pink striped dress, watched us from the other side of the room, clutching her bear shaped sketchpad.
Once settled in, the older man turned to us. "So, what exactly would you like know? Are you looking for work to be done? I assume you're not here for any original works."
"Huh? But from the looks of this place, aren't you a painter?" I asked.
His head hung low. "Yes, but not a very profitable one. I've never sold a single painting."
Ms. Doom observed some of the paintings lying against a wall. "Are they expensive? They don't look bad or anything…"
"Are you interested? I'd sell it to you for 50 cents," Mr. Misham said covering his mouth, looking slightly to the side.
"Jeez, talk about underselling yourself!" she blinked.
(For real? That's pretty depressing.)
"Wait, so if you're not selling original works, you're selling...forgeries?"
Mr. Misham scratched his head as he squinted. "Hm? I thought that's why you'd come by."
The woman shook her head. "Ah, no sorry. I'm Lyn Doom and that's Phoenix Wright. We're both lawyers who wanted to ask you questions involving a case we're working on."
"I see," he said as he covered his mouth.
I wondered what it was like to have an illegal profession. I bet it would certainly pay better than my job, in all honesty. Though, I wondered if it would be worth having to deal with all sorts of shady characters.
The man sighed, hanging his down once more. "I get plenty of paintings, half of them stolen. Who knows what they're used for. If it were just me, I'd get by, but…"
He paused to look at the little girl on the other side of the room, now drawing something in her sketchpad.
"...after her mother left, I needed to be able to provide for Vera. That's why I started...this other occupation."
I nodded. At least there was some kind of reasoning behind it, although he could just get another job besides this. "I wanted to ask about this particular forgery here."
TAKE THAT!
I presented him with the forged diary page. "This was almost used in a murder trial today."
Mr. Misham's already small beady eyes grew even smaller for a moment. He covered his face with his hand. "I see...that's why I was called into court today. I had no idea it was going to be used in a trial."
"Then why the heck did you do it? If I had presented this, I could have ruined my life and my client's!"
The man placed a hand in his hair, grasping his side with the other. He started to sweat. "I'm sorry. I had never done this kind of forgery before. I hadn't considered the possibility...but I was paid well. Very well."
I blinked. "Wait, you've not done any other forgeries like this?"
"No, I just normally reproduce paintings. This time the client had given me two things: a page as a reference and a document that I can assume was made by the client."
"So, you used the real writing as a reference to reproduce what the client wrote?" I asked stroking my chin.
"Yes," Mr. Misham nodded.
"Who was the client?"
He shrugged. "As I told that prosecutor earlier, I don't know."
That was difficult to believe. "What? Not even for such a suspicious request? I would want to know everything about them."
"I never met them! N-not personally!"
Suddenly, I felt the air grow a bit heavier. The only thing I could see before me now was Mr. Misham and the two psyche-locks and chains that were in front of him.
(Hm. Psyche-locks. I shouldn't be surprised.)
"What's up?" asked Ms. Doom nudging me. "Seeing some hearts to crack open?"
I nodded. "He's definitely hiding something."
"Well, get to work!" she pointed. "Let's see it in action!"
"Alright, Mr. Misham. I've seen your psyche-lock. It's clear to me you're not being entirely honest. "
"Psyche-lock? What is that?" He covered his mouth. "Listen, I told you I never met the client!"
(True. Nothing appeared when he said that...so that must mean he's hiding...)
"You're hiding the true identity of the forger. The psyche-lock didn't appear until you said you hadn't met with the client personally. I can only infer that someone else, the real forger, did."
The psyche-lock on the left side exploded into pieces like shattering glass.
He ran a hand through his hair. "Poppycock! I made this right in my studio! Who else could have done it besides me?!"
"If the forger wasn't you, then I don't have many people to choose from do, I?" I scratched my chin. There was only one logical explanation and that was… "The real forger is your daughter, Vera."
"That's ridiculous, Vera is only 12 years old. I've always been one for landscapes, not surrealisms."
(Nice comeback…but you're shaking in your boots. I've got you now!)
"The only access to the studio belongs to you and your daughter. The psyche-locks say you aren't the forger. Your daughter is the only possibility."
"Ahem. I feel very much on the verge of going psycho lock myself!"
It was then the darkness dissipated, as the other lock broke and the chains vanished.
"I don't know how you knew, but you're right. The one who made the page was my daughter Vera. Not I," he confessed. "She's only 12, but a genius you might say. I let her play in the studio and she watched me. That's how she taught herself."
"So Vera was the one who made this page. Would she know who the client was?"
"Actually, the client came here once. To this studio. But their face was covered and they did not want to talk to me. They said, 'I will only speak with the artist', " Mr. Misham said covering his mouth.
"Mr. Misham…" I began.
His mouth curled downwards. "Let me guess. You'd like to speak to Vera."
I nodded. "Can I?"
"…My daughter, she's quite shy. Extremely so," he paused. "But with one exception, oddly enough being that client. I left the studio, and when I returned she was laughing!"
(I need to know about this client for sure…)
"Please, let me speak with her."
He sighed again and moved over. "Alright…"
Like one of those people on television shows observing wildlife, I carefully made my way over to the girl. She wore a vacant expression and said nothing as she stared directly at me.
(Uh oh. This could be tough.)
I cleared my throat. "Uh, Vera was it? Would you like to have a friendly chat? I'm Phoenix Wright, a lawyer...I'm still looking for the keys that say "do re mi" can't find 'em anywhere!"
Vera just continued to stare at me without saying a word. I started to sweat.
(I'm no good at this. I need something to get through to this girl.)
"Mr. Wright?"
I turned to see Ms. Doom was on my side, wincing most likely on my behalf. "What are you doing? I thought you'd be better with kids...than at least that."
"Well, you try it." I wasn't the best with kids, especially ones that seemed so...closed off.
"Pfft. As if. Maybe you could tell me to do it again once you had a bit more of a backbone," she chuckled.
(Ouch. There goes my ego...)
Seeing my expression she laughed sheepishly. "Oops. Sorry. I'm used to being bossed around by Mr. Edgeworth, so you'd have to do better. Anyway, I'm just the assistant! Only here for moral support!"
"...In that case, you're not really doing your job," I half grumbled.
"Sorry, sorry... Okay. Here's an idea. You can probably talk to Vera about Troupe Gramarye," she said motioning her head to the right side, looking towards a desk. On it was a tiny stamp of the troupe in a picture frame. I wondered where you could even find a frame that small.
I turned my attention back to the girl. "Well Vera, I see that Troupe Gramarye stamp over here on that desk. Is that yours?"
"My stamp..." said faintly.
(Words! She can talk! Now, I have to keep her talking!)
"I like Troupe Gramarye! I especially like those two Zak and Valant. I mean they're, uh, so magical!" I said mustering up what enthusiasm I could.
Vera's eyes sparkled. "Aren't they?! Aren't they?!"
I nodded quickly. "Yeah! Whenever I got one of their shows, I'm like woah! Magic! You know?"
"Me, too! Me, too! I love them! They're so cool! It's like magic! Yeah!"
After I got her on a roll, I asked about where she got the stamp.
"My Father got a letter from that person. We talked about the Gramaryes forever that day! I'm sure that's why I was sent the stamp, but I didn't want to send it back," she said with a shy smile.
(They're a sneaky one this client. So they were trying to get on her good side.)
I saw Ms. Doom, glaring at the stamp. She ran a hand down the back of her neck, fidgeting.
"...Is everything alright?" I asked her.
"Ah, um. Don't worry about it. It's not so much your problem as it's mine," she said less to me and more to herself. "Get back to work, alright?"
Much to my surprise, Vera changed the topic. "I don't go outside much. I like to paint in here."
"Why don't you like the outside?"
Vera grabbed her sketchpad to her chest tightly, hunched over and sweating. "There are bad people out there!"
"Well, true, but there are lots of good people too," I said.
"Actually," started Mr. Misham. "I should tell you… …she was almost kidnapped once."
My eyes nearly burst out of their sockets. "Kidnapped!?"
He frowned, hanging his head low. "And since then…she's been like…well you can see for yourself. She refuses to the leave the house. The first and last time she wanted to go somewhere was to the Gramarye Museum."
"That person gave me a good luck charm...for when I absolutely have to go outside," the girl said with a grave face.
The other man scratched his head, "Yes, apparently she received a gift from that client, but she won't tell what it is."
"Father! I told you to keep that a secret!" Vera chastised.
(Interesting...)
I needed figure this client out. I kept questioning Vera. She really was the forger as I suspected, copying paintings all this time. This creation of the diary page is what she deemed her "first job".
"So, you met the person who asked you to do it and talked with them? What's this about a good luck charm?"
"I can't talk about it because if I do it won't work anymore...That's what I was told."
"Yeah, but I really, really, need to know."
The atmosphere, once again felt oppressive and that's when another set of two psyche-locks appeared.
(Hm...I need to unlock this, but I don't have any idea about what this good luck charm could be. Let alone any idea who the client is either.)
"Hey," Ms. Doom started. "I'm guessing you're seeing some more psyche-locks?"
I nodded. "But I don't have the information I need to break them. I think we should come back later and-"
HOLD IT!
"You're wrong. We have all the information we need," Ms. Doom said pushing her glasses up.
"Huh...? But how?" What was she talking about?
"Hey Vera," she started in the friendliest tone she could muster. She reached into her pocket and presented what looked like a picture. Vera's eyes widened and she started to sweat.
"Do you know this man?" Ms. Doom asked quietly.
"N-no! I-I've never seen him before...!" Vera shook her head furiously.
"Vera...this man is your client, isn't he? The one that sent you the stamp and your good luck charm."
Then the locks appeared before me again, but this time the lock on the left exploded into pieces.
"H-how did you know...?" Vera winced putting a hand up to her mouth.
Ignoring her, Ms. Doom continued on. "I notice you bite your nails."
"Yeah...when I get nervous I do."
"...Was your good luck charm, nail polish by chance?"
The little girl gasped. "N-no!"
"And the bottle is unique. It looks like a hand, right?"
Vera hunched over in defeat. The other lock broke. I could barely believe it. Just how did she know...?
"How did you know...I promised not to tell!"
The woman smiled. "I have x-ray vision. I can see right through people..."
"Ms. Doom...just who's picture did you show?" I asked. "How did you know what the charm was...?
"Look for yourself," she said passing me the photo. But not just any photo, one of Kristoph Gavin.
"What...?" After finding out the truth of the trial we were involved in not too long ago, I didn't think highly of the man. But why on Earth would he sink this low? Especially to sabotage me? Someone, he didn't even know?
She folded her arms. "I always knew he could not be trusted."
"I knew he was different. He was either an angel or a devil," Vera said, clearing under Kristoph Gavin's spell.
The woman frowned deeply, as she looked at Vera and then at Mr. Misham. She seemed hesitant. "Mr. Misham."
"Yes?"
"...I'm requesting possession of the stamp and nail polish. It's dangerous to keep."
"No! Those are mine!" protested Vera.
"What makes them dangerous...? They've made her happy."
"Don't you find it suspicious that he charmed her when you weren't present? Do you know how easily children can be manipulated?" she nearly growled. "Those items...have been poisoned."
(Poisoned?! N-no way! But...there are no psyche-locks appearing. She's not making it up...)
Mr. Misham grabbed his side and put his hand in his hair. "W-what?! Don't be ridiculous! Why on earth would they be poisoned? Who would do that to a child?!"
"Because Kristoph Gavin is the devil incarnate! Now, give me, those things. I will have them tested forensically if you don't believe me."
"You're out of your mind. I've told you all you needed to know."
"Mr. Misham...she's not lying..."
He clutched his arm tightly. "First you and your psycho-locks and now this. It's madness! This client made her smile and laugh as well as delivered a large sum of money. I can't believe they'd poison her. It doesn't make any sense."
"Tch," Ms. Doom flicked her tongue. "Very well. I hope you keep alive in the meantime. Don't use that stamp. And as for Vera...if, she continues to bite her nails using that polish...she will have only 7 years before something tragic happens."
Without a goodbye, Ms. Doom left out brusquely. I bit my lip. I had too many encounters with poison before. But to poison someone...especially a child...it gave me chills. It was starting to remind me of her. How she'd captivated everyone with her ever so sweet demeanor, fooling them into believing that someone like her couldn't do any wrong. It was all too familiar.
"Mr. Misham...please think about turning those items over. If not, for you, but for Vera's sake," I pleaded before I left the studio. I didn't know how she knew, but Ms. Doom was serious. She hadn't lied. And if nothing changed...then who knows what would happen to them later?
The painter said nothing, besides asking me to leave. He didn't appear to be convinced and there just wasn't much we could do about it. So in the end, I left like I was asked to. I took my time walking back to the car. When I stepped into the passenger seat, the woman just responded with a grunt. Her hands were gripping the steering wheel so tight, I thought she might ruin the shape of the wheel.
"Ms. Doom...?"
"What?" she snapped. She didn't bother to look at me. She just continued to stare ahead. "Just call me Lyn."
"Okay, Lyn...just how do you know about those things? The identity of the client? The charm? The poisoning?"
"It's not a good time to tell you how." Lyn's shoulder's drooped as she sighed. "Just believe me when I say, I've seen a very bad future in this case."
"So, what happens without this interference?"
She shifted in the driver's seat uncomfortably. "...The abridged version is Drew Misham dies from licking the poisoned stamp. Vera is prosecuted for his murder. She's then hospitalized from the poison. It takes an arm and a leg to prosecute Kristoph because he's studied the law systems loopholes and it takes about 7 years to get him...oh and you basically become a bum working in a bar."
My jaw dropped. "Wh-what?!"
"That's just the brief summary. There's more and most of it is a lot worse, so I figured I'd leave it out..." she laughed awkwardly.
"That's terrible!"
(And me being a bum?! What? Do I just live in a cardboard box and start living my lifelong dream of having a bottle of grape juice a day or something?)
"Well, why do you think I want to stop it? You belong in a courtroom."
I couldn't agree more. After three years of it, being anywhere else would seem wrong. Dishonest to a degree.
"Why are you helping me? Why didn't you tell me about Kristoph?"
"Because you've done many good things to help others. And even though I may be on the other side of the courtroom, I find you to be an inspiration..." she turned her head away from me. I caught a glimpse of red spreading on her cheeks. "As for Kristoph...I didn't want to say it outright because I didn't want you to believe that I was doing it out of my hatred for him. It was better you had some kind of proof from someone else..."
(Me, an inspiration? It's nice to have a compliment every once in a while...)
"Thank you." I nodded. "Knowing what we know about Kristoph, we need to figure out how to stop him."
Lyn looked at me and snorted. "I hope that's not your next move because confronting him would be a bad idea. He's intricate. Well thought out. And as it stands, we don't have enough evidence right now to stop him. We'd probably have to cheat the legal system somehow to beat him."
"Cheat the system?"
She shook her head furiously. "Hey, in the other world it took you 7 years to stop him, by creating another trial system. If that doesn't scream, we can't touch him that easily, unless you mean physically, I don't know what else does. Just ignore it for now. We just need to survive trial tomorrow."
Internally, I sighed. I had to create an entirely new system to capture him? That's madness. It doesn't even seem possible to me. But, she had a point based on the mess he helped to create in the TL-5 case. It'd be better to tread lightly for now.
"Speaking of tomorrow, I need to get to the detention center. I have a few questions for my client."
"Okay! Now we're talking! Let's go!" Lyn said.
(I'm going to take in this moment of stillness before we make it to our destination. I notice the longer the travel time, the more she speeds...)
She changed gears and revved the engine. I swallowed, as her hands gripped the steering wheel once more, her foot hitting the gas...
April 19th, 1:23 PM
Detention Center
I was relieved to be out of the car. My head was spinning and I thought maybe I was going to be sick. Lyn looked completely fine, somehow. In the very least I was alive. And we made it to the detention center within an hour. I couldn't complain too much...but this is part of the reason I didn't bother getting my license. Too much traffic and too many crazy people. I was looking forward to grabbing my bike and hitting the streets that way...
I requested to speak with both Gramaryes upon arrival. Valant was still in questioning, but I could talk to Zak soon. Lyn and I were waiting in the visitor's room in the meantime.
"Do you think that guard ever has an existential crisis?" Lyn asked looking at the guard standing next to the door on the other side of the room.
"Huh? I don't know," I shrugged. "Doesn't everyone?"
"Psh! Well I mean, think about it. He's basically being paid to exist. Just stand in a room for god knows how long. I'd want to do something else with my time, you know? It must get boring and lonely at times," she said as she removed her glasses to twirl them for a second.
(Maybe we should just call it the prison guard's dilemma in that case.)
In a couple of minutes, the door opened up on the other side and the flamboyant magician was hastily brought into the room...normally. No tricks or gimmicks. Despite the current situation, Mr. Gramarye looked as proud as ever as he had his hands on hips, chest pushed out.
"Good to see you, old boy! Though, you won't be seeing me for much longer," he laughed in that almost careless fashion of his.
"Huh? Are you planning on escaping, again?" He couldn't be serious. "Why did you run off earlier anyway? You were about to get a not guilty verdict!"
The magician folded his arms and looked towards the ground. "I appreciate your service, but there's much at risk now."
"Besides your verdict?"
"If I am declared not guilty in court, the blame shall fall on Valant's shoulders. He is my partner and I can't allow that bond to be broken in such a fashion."
"But what if he's guilty?" Lyn asked. "What if he really did kill Magnifi?"
Mr. Gramarye regained his composure and laughed a huge belly laugh. "Ha, what a funny girl! Impossible! Valant would never do such a thing. And even if he could...I would not blame him for his actions entirely."
I blinked. "What? Why? Wasn't Magnifi your mentor?"
The air changed for a moment. The detention center was already a dreary and bleak space, but the appearance of two psyche-locks made the atmosphere feel darker than usual.
"It's something only us partners would understand," he said adjusting his top hat.
(Hm. I'm going to figure out how to break those. Lyn might know something.)
"Anyway, why didn't your escape happen as planned?" I asked stroking my chin. "I assume you must have had it planned from the beginning."
"Feh!" he folded his arms once more. "I was ready to go until some girl came out of the shadows and delivered a kick to the groin that would make a grown man scream. If not for that, my plan would have taken off properly and we wouldn't be here."
(Ouch. I imagine this was part of Lyn's plan. Stink bombs and kicks to the gonads...harsh.)
"Hey, you wouldn't happen to know any other extra information, would you?" I asked Lyn, rubbing the back of my head sheepishly.
"You saw psyche-locks?"
I nodded. "They appeared when I pressed him about Magnifi."
"Got it." Lyn pressed her glasses up from the side. She focused her attention on the magician. "Hey, I was wondering, what happened to the lady who used to be with you and Valant on TV?"
"Thalassa?" he frowned. "She had to leave because of health issues..."
"That stinks, you must miss her a lot," the woman said. "Actually, she looks a bit like the little girl I saw you had with you in the court earlier."
Mr. Gramarye nodded. "Trucy is Thalassa's and I daughter. She takes after mother quite a bit. Her grandfather too."
"Who's her grandfather?" she asked.
"Magnifi was. Thalassa's father."
"Huh...you know. I just remembered. I thought it was weird. She just suddenly vanished from the quick draw show all of a sudden. Was her health that bad, that Magnifi didn't want her there? Seems kinda crazy to me, since he wanted the best of the best magic."
Mr. Gramarye folded his arms and started to sweat. I saw the two psyche-locks appear again.
"Hm, so what exactly was the quick draw show?" I asked stroking my chin.
"Oooo, it was great! It had Zak and Valant on opposite sides of each with pistols...while Thalassa was in the middle of them as they fired shots!" Lyn said with mock enthusiasm.
(Hm...I think she's implying that something happened to Thalassa during that show. And the only logical explanation would be...)
TAKE THAT!
I presented the stage pistol. "For that health issue...Thalassa was shot with a pistol like this during the show, wasn't she?" I asked.
The left lock broke. "T-that's nonsense," Mr. Gramarye said sweating.
"If it's nonsense, why don't we see her anymore? Not on any promotions or anything? In fact, if she were here wouldn't she be watching your trial and with Trucy?" Lyn pressed.
He folded his arms looking down. "...Fine. Thalassa...she's dead. It happened during practice. Things were fine until we realized she was hit...neither of us knew which one hit her. We were in too much shock to think about what had just happened."
"What happened afterward?"
"Magnifi took care of everything, to make sure it wouldn't leak to the public," he looked up at us directly. "Now, that's enough. The rest is between partners."
(A psyche-lock is still there. That's not the whole story.)
"Sorry, but when you said earlier you wouldn't blame Valant even if he did shoot Magnifi, I thought it was strange," I started. "The fact that he covered up with daughter's death is one thing...but the next is, did you really continue to work for him with no problem after that?"
"Feh! Of course, there were problems! His daughter, my wife was dead!" he barked.
I shook my head. "No, this whole thing doesn't make sense. Even his last request...how could either of you follow that through? Even if I were under the best lawyer in the world I wouldn't do something like that. The only reason I can think of is, you both were being blackmailed by Magnifi about Thalassa's death!"
The psyche-lock on the right exploded and the chains vanished. "I guess you are a good lawyer after all..."
"Tell me about what happened after Thalassa was shot," I requested.
"It happened fast. Magnifi took control of the situation quickly and hid things from the media and us. We're unsure of whose bullet struck her. We didn't even get to see her body. It was covered up and from then on we were forced to do whatever Magnifi wanted of us. Not so much as disciples, but slaves," Mr. Gramarye scowled.
"So he was blackmailing you for how long?" I asked.
"About three years," he folded his arms. "But I know Valant wouldn't kill him, even if he had that urge."
(But if he didn't do it, the blame falls back to you...)
"Actually, I wanted to show you this," I said presenting him with the fake diary page.
"Hm? What's this?"
"Something, I was given before trial. It's supposed to be the missing page torn from Magnifi's diary."
The magician bellows out with laughter. "Ha! Ha! Whoever gave this to you wanted to deceive you. This is not the real page, for the real page is currently in possession."
"S-seriously!? Can I please see it?"
"Afraid not. This is confidential information," he said hands on his hips looking serious.
Lyn yawned. "S'okay, Mr. Wright. He doesn't have to show us the contents. I already know."
"Impossible!"
"What's on it?" I asked eagerly.
"That the rights to Magnifi's magic go solely to Mr. Zak Gramarye. Something like that," she said with a grin.
"H-how did you know?! There's no way for you to have known!"
"I got my own magical powers," the woman said sticking her tongue out.
"Wait, but if that's what's there why can't you just give it to me? We can easily get a not guilty verdict with this," I said.
"Mr. Wright, again. If I present this to the court, it will make my partner suspect."
"Mr. Gramarye," Lyn started. "Would it make a difference to you, if you knew the truth about your partner, Valant?"
"What truth?" he asked. "There is nothing hidden between us."
"What if I told you that he was insanely jealous of you? So jealous, that he wanted to frame you in order to get the rights to Magnifi's magic...would that make a difference?"
No psyche-locks appeared meaning that all of what Lyn was saying was true.
Beads of sweat dripped down on the magician's face. "What..."
"Well, it wouldn't be a stretch," I mused. "If I wanted to protect someone I might lie on their behalf. Or avoid coming to testify in court as well."
"I don't want to believe that," he said. "But if that were so...I know he couldn't have killed our mentor. Yet, if he's attempted to frame me...we might not be in this predicament, to begin with."
Then, he laughed loudly. "It won't matter much...the rights need to be secured for Trucy. If he has tried to frame me for those rights, I must protect them."
(...It sounds like he still plans on leaving again tomorrow.)
"I see," I said.
Lyn's face scrunched up in thought. "Well, how's this gonna work? ...I already know Klavier will call Mr. Misham back into court. He'll ask for the fake. Now, if you show the fake, you'll be in trouble. Unless you can point out the client who ordered it. Or if you had the real deal, Mr. Misham couldn't claim it as his own, and trial moves along with no problem..."
"Why not use both? If we present the real one and prove it's validity, my badge is safe. The fake could be shown after. It couldn't be mine, to begin with. I was only put on the job a day before the trial. I couldn't prepare anything that quickly."
The woman bit her lip. "I suppose. I just worry about that monster...if we can't pin him, we'll be in trouble."
"Mr. Gramarye, would you be willing to give up the page? I'll give it back to you."
"...I can't promise anything. I'll give you my decision tomorrow morning," Mr. Gramarye said pensively. "I think I've given you more than enough for the day. Til we meet again."
He stood up and turned around, cape fluttering as he strutted out the door with the guard.
"Hm. So, it'll be a good idea to have a plan in case he doesn't give you the page," Lyn removing her glasses, twirling.
"Well, I could use the argument that I couldn't have ordered it. And ask Mr. Gramarye to point out the attorney he was planning to use before me."
"You know, it might be a little safer if you don't have it on your person. Klavier got a tip from his older brother that a forgery was used and that's why he brought Misham in. And he's expecting it. There's also a chance the court won't listen," she frowned slightly. "Yeah, I think, it might be best if I hold on to it for now. If you get the real page, I'll bring it up. And if you don't, I'll keep it."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, it'll be fine. I'll keep it in a spot no one would ever think of looking!"
"Alright," I said passing the fake to her. "I'm counting on you."
"No worries! I got this," she beamed as she stuck into her pants pocket. "Let's get going!"
"Well, I wanted to see if Valant was ready to talk too-"
"Psh! Why do you wanna talk to that bum? It's just a waste of time!" she said pointing at me. "All you need to know is this: Zak is right. He didn't kill Magnifi. Valant didn't kill Magnifi. The person who killed Magnifi was Magnifi!"
My eyes bulged out of my sockets. "What?! It was a suicide?!"
She nodded. "Yep. Valant just rearranged the scene to throw off the investigation and make it look like Zak was the one who killed him."
I hadn't even considered the possibility, but with diabetes and cancer at the end of your rope, passing down your rights...it's not too hard to believe.
"And I mean, if you get that far, you'd just have to get Valant to confess to that. It wasn't looking too good for him in there yesterday, before uh, my plan went into motion. And who would pick a murder charge over a tampering with justice one? Less jail time anyway...if we get that far," she said with a slight shrug.
"Fair enough." This was turning out to be more insane than I initially imagined. The details of this case and how Lyn came to grasp these facts was beyond me.
"Now, can we go?" she asked ready to head back out.
I felt beads of sweat forming on my brow. "Yes...but please...for my sake...driving a little slower on the way back to the courthouse...I can't die before tomorrow."
Lyn sighed. "Alright, alright. You big baby. I'll calm it down...mostly."
I gulped as I watched her hurry out in front of me back to the front doors. I slowly followed, mentally preparing myself for another trip. On the bright side, it would be fast and I could get my bike faster.
April 19th, 3:21 PM
Wright & Co. Law Offices
After the last harrowing journey to the courthouse, I survived and picked up my bike from there. Lyn went off, saying that she wanted to come up with some more strategies for tomorrow. If she thought of anything else, she'd give me a call before then. For the time being, I was reviewing what little information I had on the case as well as musing over what I learned today.
I had the feeling that I had only grazed the surface of it. Lyn probably knew more; seeing as how she only stepped in with bits and pieces at a time. I just wondered how she knew. When this case was over, I'd have to know. It was too strange for her to pull these facts seemingly out of thin air. Especially facts that were accurate. My magatama only reacted for lies, and for all those facts she somehow knew no psych-locks appeared. It would be crazy for her to have magical powers. Just what was she? A spy? A psychic? She knew too many intricate details that I couldn't have figured out without additional clues.
What's more is that she really wanted to help me out. Come to think of it, she did express that in the first trial we had against each other. She wanted to gain my trust, I think is what she said. A curious thing to say for someone who had a reputation of hating defense attorneys... She must have known this case would happen early on. Why else would she want my trust? It would be hard otherwise, to think that she wanted to help me if she acted abrasively...
But I supposed I would just have to wait and see. Our focus was on saving my badge tomorrow. I'd ask my questions about her information later.
April 19th, 9:21 PM
Prosecutor's office parking lot
I had decided to call it day, satisfied with the amount of work I completed. As I headed into the almost vacant lot, I stopped. There were only a handful of vehicles left including my own, but one stood out.
That hideous car of Lyn's.
What was it doing here? She was never the type to stay behind this late to do work. She would rush to get out of the office as soon as possible and complain if she had to do something else demanded of her by the higher-ups. Thus it was rather rare for her to stay past 6 o'clock.
Not like it was any of my concern. She had been persistent about avoiding my person as of late, claiming to be focusing on some project. Perhaps she had forgotten to do something and came back. Or maybe it was something related to this mystery project. I shrugged it off and continued to my car, a short distance away.
I placed my hand on the door handle. I needed to go home. Yet, I couldn't shake this feeling...that something wasn't right.
It was irrational, but something felt off. I stepped away from my car and looked back at the entrance to the office. Maybe it was nothing. Perhaps it was all in my head...but I'd rather be safe than sorry.
April 19th, 9:28 PM
Prosecutor's Office, Room 404
After I ran up the stairs, I stood outside of Lyn's office. The door was ajar. About to step in, I stopped as I heard loud voices.
"Y-you...just where is that damn page?!"
"...I already told you, you wouldn't find it here or with me. Now, that you've humiliated me enough, get out."
The first voice was unfamiliar, belonging to a man whose voice was quivering. The other was definitely Lyn's.
"Y-you bitch! T-tell me where the p-page is !"
I pulled the door open and stepped into the room. I was not prepared for what I saw.
(What…)
The room was in complete shambles, drawers and hidden safe wide open, papers and files were strewn everywhere. A masked man, pointing a gun at Lyn...who was seated on her couch, the pile of her clothes on the floor in front of her...completely nude.
Evidence:
Attorney's badge: It's my all-important badge. It shows that I am a defense attorney.
Crime Photo: Body found in the hospital room, shot in the forehead.
Magnifi's Autopsy Report: Cause of death: single gunshot to the head. Estimated time of death: 11:00-11:30 PM.
Notebook Page: Mysterious paper received just before the trial. Forged to look like a page of Magnifi's diary.
Magnifi's Chart: Diagnosed with a malignant tumor. Given 3 months.
Small Syringe: Used for administering insulin shots. Has been washed and shows no sign of use.
Magnifi's Letter: Letter asking Zak to shoot him.
Stage Pistol: Fires one real bullet. Rifling marks match bullet found in the victim. No fingerprints found.
Magnifi's Letter 2: Letter telling Valant to come at 11:20 PM.
IV Report: IV stopped 10 min. after administration began.
Magnifi's Diary: A memoir of sorts. Written in up to just before he died.
Profiles:
Zak Gramarye: Age 40. My client in this case. Usually goes by his stage name, "Zak Gramarye".
Magnifi Gramarye: Age 67. The victim in this case. Died after being shot in the head while in the hospital.
Valant Gramarye: Age 37. Zak's young partner and understudy. The two of them on stage was a sight to see.
Trucy Enigmar: Age 8. Zak Gramarye's daughter. Already dresses the part of a magician to the hilt.
Drew Misham: Age 45. Painter. Summoned to this trial by the authority of Prosecutor Gavin.
Detective Gumshoe: Age 33. Homicide detective at the local precinct. In charge of the initial investigation.
Klavier Gavin: Age 17. Star prosecutor and leader/vocalist for the rock group, the Gavinners.
Lyn Doom: Age 24. Prosecutor mentored by Edgeworth.
Jean Armstrong: Age 39. Trés Bien's owner and chef. Has a long debt and prior convictions for theft.