[October 21st, 9:52 am, District Court-Defendant Lobby No. 4]
"Do you remember everything you need to say to the judge?" Robin LeBlanc asked, ordering the small stack of papers, "If not, we can go over it again."
"No, I think I've got it," answered his client, smiling and balling her small fists, "I'm ready to let the whole truth come to light, Mr. LeBlanc."
He nodded, "That's great to hear, Morgan. Your cooperation means everything."
"Can I… can I stand by you at the bench again?" she pressed her fingers together.
"Sure," the attorney nodded, "you were a big help last time. I could use you up there, keeping me focused."
"Yes!" she grinned, "Er, I mean… thank you, Mr. LeBlanc. …Also, yes!"
"The trial will reconvene in five minutes," announced the bailiff, staring right at the young attorney, "Please be ready to enter the courtroom at that time."
"Are we all set, Mr. LeBlanc?" Morgan wondered.
"I think so. I just need to make a quick call," Robin answered, pulling out his cell phone.
The phone rang twice before picking up, "Robin?"
"Hi, Anna," he greeted, "how are things at the office?"
"They're fine, just like they were an hour ago when you left, Robin. And like when you called me half an hour ago," she said, her eye-roll practically audible through the phone.
"Can you blame me for being a little… nervous?"
"Nervous, no. Paranoid, yes. I'll be fine, Robin. Concentrate on the trial, on saving that girl, okay?
"Okay. Call me if anything happens, though, okay?"
"All right, just chill out."
She hung up. Robin sighed. Whether from relief or exasperation he wasn't sure.
"What was that about?" Morgan tapped a finger on her chin.
"Oh, we had a little scare with a burglar. Nothing serious," he downplayed.
Something is deeply wrong with this trial. Between this circle of friends, one of whom lied to the others and murdered another of them, and that woman… what was she so afraid of me finding? I can't be certain, but the best way to answer all those questions is surely to move forward and uncover what really happened in this case. That's all I can do.
"Mr. LeBlanc," he heard Morgan beckoning him, "the bailiff is summoning us."
"All right," he got up, "let's get it done."
[October 21st, 10:01 am, District Court-Courtroom No. 4]
The judge cleared his throat and adjusted a pair of reading glasses that were sitting on the bridge of his nose. He called out, "Order, please. This court will now reconvene for the trial of Morgan Cassidy. As I recall, Ms. Cassidy, this trial had to be halted because you rescinded Mr. LeBlanc's control of your defense and made a confession. How do you plan to proceed?"
"Your Honor," she took a deep breath, "following the events of yesterday's trial, I realized that my actions were rash and misguided, and my confession a false one. Fearful of victimizing one of my friends, I made a false confession in order to save them. I have since realized that this was a mistake: obfuscating the truth in such a manner will ensure nothing but a failure of our legal system, and so I ask for my own remarks to be stricken from the record, on the grounds that they were made under duress, and I hereafter relinquish control of my defense to the very capable Mr. Robin LeBlanc."
"Tsk," Lloyd Reed shook his head, "Congrats on teaching your little lapdog to talk, LeBlanc. Unfortunately, the fact that you'll be defending her again will do nothing to save her. This trial is as good as decided, and you know it full well. Why not spare yourself the trouble?"
Robin shook his head, "Taunt me as much as you like, Prosecutor Reed. My objective today is to use the evidence I've uncovered to set this innocent girl free, nothing less."
Lloyd shut his eyes, "My, but you are a stubborn cur."
"In that case," said the judge, stroking his beard, "I believe we have no choice but to continue the trial where it left off, meaning we're left with five confessions, one of which has just now been stricken from the record. How can we proceed with four competing confessions?"
"We discard them from the record, just like the defendant's," Lloyd folded his arms, "They were all made under similar circumstances for similar reasons. As such, there's no need to consider any of them as factually accurate."
The judge nodded, "That does seem a fairly logical conclusion. Do you have any contention with the prosecution's proposition, Mr. LeBlanc?"
"Actually, I do," he nodded.
Lloyd frowned, "Don't be a contrarian, LeBlanc. Just because it's my idea doesn't mean it's a bad one. Surely you must see that this is the only way we can proceed with the trial."
The attorney shook his head, "I disagree. If the prosecution made one thing abundantly clear in its arguments the other day, it's that the murderer of Ewan Allen could only be one of the members of his circle of friends, all of whom are the deliverers of our remaining confessions."
"Excepting the defendant, who just now withdrew hers, so we can assume the rest are all junk," Lloyd sighed.
"Not so," Robin corrected him, "If we take as a given that the murderer was one of Allen's friends, then it stands to reason that someone's confession will ring of truth, while the others can all be dismissed as false."
"And what if they can all be disproven?" Lloyd stared at his opposing counsel, "Then you'd have no choice but to admit that the defendant is the only one who could've committed the murder."
"If it comes to that," Robin nodded slowly, "it may be necessary for me to reevaluate my options, but I'm fairly confident that one of these confessions will have to offer us the truth. As such, I would like to ask all of the confessors to testify so that the court can determine the veracity of their claims."
Robin looked over and saw Morgan frowning, "…'Fairly certain,' Mr. LeBlanc? You know this is my whole life we're talking about, here, right?"
"I don't want to seem overconfident to the court, Morgan," he whispered, "Juries hate that. Humility in self-presentation is always the way to go."
"Hm," she faced the front of the court, "I guess. Just please don't go saying anything you're not sure of."
"Oh, I won't," he sighed. I'm glad she bought that.
"All right, Mr. LeBlanc, if that's the angle you're going after, then it's your funeral," the Lloyd shrugged, "The prosecution has no objections to the defense's plan of action, Your Honor."
"Very well," the judge rapped his gavel off the desk, "So long as both counsels are in agreement, I see no reason not to proceed. Bailiff, would you please bring the witnesses to the stand?"
Robin fiddled with a few papers on his desk, trying to look busy. Mostly, he grabbed at and dog-eared the corners of the pages without even really glancing at the text upon them. He didn't notice Morgan, who continued to stare straight ahead as all of her friends were brought to the stage. Lloyd remained silent, bordering on disinterest as the colorful group was paraded up to the stand. The only thing that betrayed his illusion of aloofness was the way he tugged on the inside of his sleeve when his arms were folded.
"Now then," the judge declared, looking them over, "You all have delivered a confession to this court. That means that most or all of you must necessarily be telling the court a falsehood, for which you will pay a penalty to be determined later, unless you elect to recant your confession now, before the trial proceeds, in which case, you will not be charged. With that in mind, would any of you like to step down?"
Heads and hands fidgeted, but none of the teenagers at the stand spoke a word.
"Very well," the judge sighed, "We will be forced, then, to have each of you deliver your testimony to the court, whereupon you will be cross-examined by Mr. LeBlanc. Do you understand?"
The group nodded.
"All right, then. Each of you, please step up and give the court your name and occupation, as well as your confession in significant detail," said the judge, sitting back and interlacing his fingers.
"Greetings, ladies and gentlemen of the court," the first young man to come forward did so with a glittering smile, "My name is Inigo Morales, and, as you may recall, I was on the stage at the time of the crime. Or so I would have you believe, haha! In truth, it was I who murdered Ewan. When I seemed to disappear from the stage, forestalling the performance, it was because I was in the restroom killing Ewan. I despised him for embarrassing me with his prominent academic performance. Try though I may to win over the ladies, I was always subverted by Ewan's innocence and intellect, damn him. Please, take me to prison."
"Mr. LeBlanc?" the judge turned ever so slightly.
"You're lying, Mr. Morales," Robin shook his head, "I spoke with Detective Fletcher yesterday. He told me that the police had managed to figure out the passcode to Ewan's phone, and when they did, they found a record of your call to him. There would be no need for you to call the victim if you planned to kill him, especially since yesterday you testified that you had done so to see how he was enjoying the performance."
"No, no," he stuttered, "Y-You see, that was but another example of my malfeasance! In truth, I called him while I waited in the bathroom to ensure that I knew it was he who entered when I heard him."
"But then you would have needed precise knowledge of when he was going to enter, or you would have made several other calls when other people entered the restroom. That, and you testified about seeing the victim enter the restroom the other day. These claims cannot be mutually correct."
Inigo frowned, "I… suppose I have no choice. Indeed, it is as you say, Mr. LeBlanc. I am not Ewan Allen's murderer… I was on-stage at the time of the crime, as my earlier testimony describes. I have nothing to say in my defense but that I care for my friends deeply."
"That will be all, Mr. Morales," Robin sighed, "I believe you can step down for now."
"It seems there may be some merit to the defense's method after all, wouldn't you say, Prosecutor Reed?" the judge observed.
Lloyd rolled his eyes, "Don't get too excited on his behalf, Your Honor. Anyone with half a brain could guess that Inigo Morales was innocent: he's the only one of the group who has an unimpeachable alibi."
"Shall we move on, Mr. LeBlanc?" the judge's eyes flicked back.
"Yes," he nodded, "let's."
Cath Nichols came forward next, announcing her name and her unemployment while stroking a few locks of ginger hair out of her face. "I hated Ewan because he spread some gross rumors about me to some people I didn't like. I waited in the men's bathroom for a while, and when I heard him come in, I jumped him and put him down."
"What do you think, Mr. LeBlanc?"
"Ms. Nichols, why would you leave hair dye in the sink if your hair is already red like the defendant's?"
"It's not the same shade. I had to fix it up a bit like that in order to frame her."
"These rumors that Mr. Allen spread, to whom did he spread them, and what were they, generally?"
"Uh, he told… some girls that I was… that I hit for both teams. That's all."
"'Some girls,' you say? Can you tell me which ones?"
"What's it to you?"
"We now have Mr. Ewan's phone records, if you'll recall. If you tell me when the rumors were spread and to whom, I can verify it via his texts or calls."
"Uh… look, that stuff's not important, all right? Fact o' the matter is, I waited in the men's room and killed Ewan when he showed up."
"So then, how did Morgan's fingerprints get on the murder weapon instead of yours?"
"E-Easy, I just wiped 'em off and had her grab the knife afterward."
"Ms. Cassidy, did you ever take hold of a knife given to you by Ms. Nichols that evening?"
"No, sir."
"Ms. Nichols, if the defendant had done what you described, don't you think it would have been among the first things she said in her defense?"
"I-I dunno! She coulda said a lot of things!"
"Ms. Nichols. If you wanted to implicate Ms. Cassidy of the crime, then why would you be confessing right now?"
"I… changed my mind?"
"Was the jacket found discarded in the trash near the restroom yours?"
"Um…"
"Let me put it this way: if we looked in your closet at home, would we find something that makes your story incongruous with the facts of the case?"
"Argh! Awright, fine! Shaddap already! So I didn't do it! I lied 'cause I wanted to keep my friends safe. There, ya happy, you bastard?"
"A little," Robin smiled.
"Morgan," Cath glared at her, "Why are you doing this? We're all thick as thieves, aren't we?"
Morgan shook her head, "Sorry, Cath, but no one is ever going to be happy about how this turns out until we find out who's really responsible. If we figure out who did it, then maybe we can start to forgive them, but if we don't, there's always going to be some kind of doubt, and I won't let it be like that." Cath frowned and left the stand.
Two down, two to go.
"Prosecutor Reed," the judge cleared his throat, "you're being awfully quiet. Don't you have anything to say?"
"Not until the attorney presents something substantial," Lloyd shrugged, "Right now, Mr. LeBlanc is just narrowing the suspect list, like I did before this trial even started. There's no point in deliberating so long as he's reaching the same conclusions I did."
Reed backing off? I never thought I'd see the day. Well, all the same, best not to miss my chance. I can get this trial really going firmly in my favor if I make my point clear right here, right now. The only confessions left come from Ross and Nino, and, knowing what I know now… My experience leads me to conclude that there's only one real candidate left, meaning I have to find a way to disprove one's alibi while simultaneously proving the other's. Here goes nothing…
"Mr. Ross Hammond," Robin lifted his head, "would you come forward next, please?"
"Sure," he grinned, "if it'll get this over quicker."
"Name and occupation for the record," Lloyd droned.
"I'm Ross Hammond, and I'm an apprentice carpenter, working for my old man! I'm gonna learn his secrets and be the best carpenter this world's ever seen. …After I finish trade school, that is," the boy said, thumbing at himself intermittently.
"Your testimony, if you please, Mr. Hammond," the judge extended his hand.
"Righto," he smiled, "See here: I was really ticked at ol' Ewan 'cause he was so much smarter than me! Damn if I wasn't jealous o' that guy—like Ini said, the ladies were all over him 'cause he was so sweet and smart and innocent. Er, not that I'd know about that, o'course. I was just really mad. So when we were waiting for Ini's show to start back up, I took a little trip to the ol' crapper to take care of him, once and for all."
"I'm sorry," Robin blinked, "'Ini?'"
"Yeah, that's what I call Mr. Dancer over here," Ross grinned, "Ini-meenie-miney-Inigo! Get it? Haha!"
"R-Right," Robin stuttered, "Uh, in any case, I'll ask you the same question I asked Ms. Nichols: how can you explain the defendant's—er, Morgan's fingerprints being on the weapon?"
"Aw, that's easy. My pops knows a buncha metalworkers. He has a whole pile o' metal stuff that he's gotten as gifts from them, including silverware. I took one of the knives he had lyin' around and showed it to Morgan once, and then, thinking of that, I decided to use it to kill Ewan and frame her. But now I've decided I ain't happy with lyin' about it anymore if it's gonna put Morgan or anyone else in jail."
"Your flippant motives aside," Robin sighed, "The detective told us in the previous trial that the knife was of very common make and could have come from anywhere."
"Well, just 'cause it was a gift don't mean it was completely unique," the boy folded his arms.
"So… this unnamed metalworker gifted your father an incredibly common knife that he could have bought himself for next to nothing?"
"Hey! Don't insult my pop's friends! Sure, it was common, but it was hand-made and delivered straight to him, so it was special! Like that time I made a wooden clock in shop—sure, my pops coulda bought one just like it, but it wouldn't be the same, ya know?"
I know it feels like we're losing the plot fast. "I… suppose I see your point," Robin frowned, "Still, I'd like to draw the court's attention to this photo, recovered between trials by the police, that clearly shows the theft of a similar knife being conducted by someone in your school-issued jacket—"
"Objection!" The court faced Lloyd Reed. He shook his head, "I was wondering how long it'd take for you to bring that up. As you can see, the individual in that photograph has very little in the way of distinguishing physical features: their face is totally obscured, and being that the photo is in black and white, there is really nothing that can be gleaned from it, aside from their clothing, which is proof of nothing."
"W-Well," Robin rebutted, considerably thrown off by his opponent's sudden interruption, "still, isn't there something to be said for the person's head? Look at the photo and you'll see there's something off about it."
"I see nothing," Lloyd shook his head, "except that this person seems to have dark hair, much like our excitable witness, here. I don't suppose it's he who you've decided to blame for Ms. Cassidy's crime, is it?"
Robin paused. Could it really be? Doesn't this photo give me any other information? Looking over the evidence, I already had my conclusion, but… there's definitely something curious about this photo, I just know there is. If Ross is the one who stole the knife, though… Damn. I'm this close, but there's some piece of the puzzle that's eluding me. There must be some way I can resolve all this.
"Mr. LeBlanc," Morgan whispered.
Robin turned to face her, "Do you have a thought, Morgan?"
"Not exactly, just kind of a hunch," she admitted, "I think you're right about the person's head looking off—it seems, I dunno, too smooth."
"You think it was someone bald?" he guessed.
She shook her head, "No, not like that… I don't know, maybe it's not hair we're looking at?"
"That's a possibility," Robin nodded, "but I'm not sure if—"
"Your Honor," everyone in the court looked up. Nino Cooper was staring back at them, "I'm afraid I have to recant my confession. Looking at all that happened… there can be no doubting it. The person in that photo is Ross. He's the one who stole that knife and used it to kill Ewan, and then he somehow got Morgan's prints on it in order to frame her. I'm sorry it had to be like this, Ross, but you made your choice."
"N-Nino…" the boy stammered, "What?"
"I'm sorry," tears began to pool in the girl's eyes, "can I leave now? I… I can't watch this anymore."
"No objections," Lloyd shrugged.
"Yes, I believe you've had quite enough heartache for one lifetime, young lady. With the defense's permission, I'll let you return to the lobby so that you can call your parents and rest a bit."
"Objection," Robin declared.
"W-What?" Nino whipped her head around to him, as did Morgan.
Lloyd scowled, "What's your game now, LeBlanc?"
"I'm afraid Ms. Cooper's allegations don't hold water," he shook his head. "Mr. Hammond's confession can be disproven if we ask his father to identify the knife, or if he will tell us the name of the metalworker who supposedly gifted his father the knife. In either case, failure to prove that story would mean that Mr. Hammond's confession is false, in which case, only one conclusion remains."
"You…" Nino Cooper covered her mouth with her open palm, "You wouldn't!"
He nodded, "I will. Your Honor, the defense would like to formally indict Nino Cooper for the murder of Ewan Allen."
The gallery erupted into whispers for a minute before the judge called for order a few times and the court settled down.
"Objection," Lloyd rolled his eyes, "on what evidence do you base this accusation?"
Robin pulled out the photo, "This photograph, of course."
"Objection!" the prosecutor shouted again, "We just went over this: the only thing that photo proves is that someone with dark hair wearing a jacket like that of the defendant and victim entered the store and appeared to have stolen the knife."
"Objection!" Robin answered, "I was wondering what was bothering me about this photo for a long time, and then it finally hit me: you've made a critically false assumption about this photo, Mr. Reed."
"And what's that?" he growled.
"The thing that you're referring to as the person's hair… it isn't really hair at all," Robin smirked, "It's a hairband—exactly like the one Ms. Nino Cooper is wearing!"
"What?!" Lloyd collapsed onto his desk.
"Hm," the judge brought his reading glasses back to his face, "Upon further inspection, this does look too smooth and defined to be hair."
"Objection!" Lloyd shouted, "You can't prove the one in the photo was Ms. Cooper, however! You can only prove that someone who was wearing a dark hairband and a school jacket that day is being depicted."
"That's true," Robin nodded, "but tell me, Mr. Reed: how many of our witnesses can fit that description? You can rule out Inigo and Ross straight away, and we already have a myriad of reasons to doubt that either Morgan or Cath committed the crime, so there's no reason they'd have stolen the knife. Besides, isn't it a bit suspicious that Ms. Cooper decided to recant her confession only when the photo was brought up?"
"That's only speculation," the prosecutor dismissed, "you have no evidence directly linking Ms. Cooper to the crime."
"I believe I do," Robin shook his head, "but I've already succeeded in my primary purpose: this court can now be certain that only one of these confessions could possibly be true."
Lloyd pounded his desk, "D-Dammit!"
"But…!" Nino protested, "But I recanted my confession! Doesn't that mean that they all turned out to be false?"
The attorney shook his head again, "No, because I never had a chance to examine your confession—you're the only one who backed down early. In point of fact, Ms. Cooper, in recanting your confession, you've made yourself the only remaining suspect in this case!"
"Wh-What?!" she clenched her fists, "J-Judge! Tell him that's not true!"
"I'm afraid I find Mr. LeBlanc's reasoning to be entirely sound," said the judge.
"Huh? P-Prosecutor, say something! He's violating your terms, isn't he?" she demanded.
Lloyd Reed triangulated his posture on the girl, "He would have, if you hadn't opened your fool mouth. You've made your bed here, girl. I will continue to argue against your guilt, but I cannot refute Mr. LeBlanc's reasoning."
"H-Huh? What?" she looked around the room, "Th-This isn't right. Someone stop this sham of a trial!"
"Be silent!" Lloyd Reed struck Nino's mouth closed with his voice, "There's no use in raving like this anymore, you imbecile. If you want to halt the attorney in his tracks, then you need to testify. If your confession was false, then you must have an alibi, no? Tell the court about that."
"Ah!" she calmed down and glared at Robin, "R-Right. I do. Yes, of course." The girl began smiling and folded her arms, "I have an alibi, and I'll be happy to testify to it."
"Very well," the judge nodded, "Any objections, Mr. LeBlanc?"
"Not at this time, Your Honor," he replied.
"All right then," the judge swung his gavel, "Ms. Cooper, you may begin your testimony when you are ready."
Robin looked to his side. Morgan's eyes were wide as she leaned well over the defense bench.
"F-Fine," the girl grunted, "You want to accuse me of Ewan's murder? Ha! I never had a chance to kill him. I certainly never went into the men's room during the performance. Moreover, all of the evidence points away from me. Morgan has blood on her jacket, I don't. Morgan's prints were on the murder weapon, mine weren't. The simple fact is, there's absolutely no way I could have murdered Ewan, and on top of all that, why would I want to? Ewan was my friend! So, there you go: no motive, no means, no opportunity. How can you possibly accuse me now?"
"Thank you for your well-explained testimony, Ms. Cooper," the judge nodded.
"Indeed. Good work, lass," Lloyd complimented, "If you had been this smart before, we wouldn't even have this problem."
Leave it to Lloyd to lay on the backhanded compliments. Either way, I've got all the pieces now, including a suspect. All that's left to do is figure out how they fit together… "Ms. Cooper," Robin began, "you claim you couldn't have ever gone into the men's room. But if it wasn't you who entered the room, who could've placed that hair dye in the restroom? Remember, we proved in the last trial that it could only have been placed in the sink after the victim was killed, and only the killer could have left it there."
"W-Well, then it had to be Morgan," Nino answered.
"Why would Ms. Cassidy bring red hair dye into the bathroom and use it after the murder?" Robin tapped his forehead.
"I don't know, maybe it isn't her natural color!" the girl scoffed.
"Objection!" Robin turned around and saw Morgan's face becoming as red as her hair, "J-Just what are you implying? My hair's been this red since the day I was born! I have the baby pictures to prove it! Don't you dare impugn the honor of my perfectly beautiful ruby hair!"
"Either way," Lloyd interrupted her, "it's not the witness's job to disprove the defense's reasoning. You're the one who should be showing the court some evidence, Mr. LeBlanc."
"But the only reason that dye could be there is to frame Morgan!" Robin slapped his desk.
"Prove it," Lloyd shook his head.
"Argh," Robin scowled.
"What's the matter, Mr. LeBlanc?" Morgan tapped her finger on her chin, "You're going to refute that lie about me dyeing my hair, right?"
"That's… not really the crux of the issue here, Morgan. What is important, though, is that I don't have enough evidence to say for sure that Nino used that hair dye," he sighed.
"Well, why not try picking apart something else?" the girl shrugged, "She's lying, so there'll have to be cracks in there somewhere, right? And once you break through one, the others will all get deeper."
"Right," Robin stood back up and pondered a bit, If Nino tried to frame Morgan, she did a bang-up job of it. There's evidence pointing to Morgan left and right, but that means there should be other places where we can find evidence of her involvement. …Wait, that's it! Could that explain…? "Ms. Cooper," Robin took a deep breath, "I want to remind you of some testimony you made in the previous trial. You told us that Morgan and Ewan had gotten into a fight because Morgan had been spreading a rumor that Ewan was gay, is that true?"
"Yeah… so?"
"So, interestingly, all your friends seemed to know very little about that rumor, other than the fact that they'd heard about it from Ewan or you. In fact, both Inigo and Ross testified that Ewan was quite popular with women."
Lloyd growled, "Oh, you are not proposing what I think you're proposing…!"
"Looking back through Ewan's texts, we can see that you were also the first person to mention this rumor to him. And if we examine Morgan's texts…"
"N-N-No…!" Nino cringed, shutting her eyes.
"I'm confused, Mr. LeBlanc," the judge admitted, "What, exactly, are you suggesting?"
"Put simply," Robin smirked, "I believe there was no rumor regarding Mr. Allen's homosexuality, least of all one started by my client. Rather, I submit that the witness invented the rumor in order to make Mr. Allen and Ms. Cassidy come into conflict with one another!"
"No!" Nino shouted, slipping and falling back. She rubbed her head as she stood up.
"Objection!" Lloyd shouted, "And just why does the defense think she would do something like that?"
"Why, to frame Ms. Cassidy for murder, of course," Robin grinned.
"Insanity!" Lloyd grunted, "That conflict occurred at least a week before the murder!"
Robin nodded, "Yes, meaning that Ms. Cooper premeditated her murder plan."
"And can you provide proof that Ms. Cooper arranged this conflict to frame the defendant?" the prosecutor went on.
"Ms. Cassidy," Robin turned to face her, "Do you remember physically assaulting the victim in the argument you had?"
"N-Not exactly. Things got heated, and then we got up in each other's faces, and then Nino tried to calm us both down… Ah! Do you think…?"
"So what if she doesn't remember?" Lloyd pounded a fist on his desk, "The defendant could easily be lying. This is no proof of anything!"
"Ms. Cassidy, are you right- or left-handed?"
"Uh, right-handed."
"And you were facing Ewan Allen head-on in this confrontation, right?"
"Yes."
"Well, then why don't we check Mr. Allen's medical records?" Robin smirked, "If the defendant really did attack him and break his nose, as was claimed, then the greatest damage should be to his left nostril or right down the center of his nose, correct? That's where a right hook from the defendant would've hit."
"Argh!" Lloyd cursed.
"Th-This is stupid!" Nino cried.
This is it! I can't believe it! After all this time, I've finally got the means to put the nail in the coffin of this case. "Furthermore," Robin held up one of his papers and offered it demonstrably, "If the defense's theory is correct and it was Nino Cooper who actually assaulted the victim, it would explain that all-too-perfect imperceptible smear of the victim's blood on Morgan's jacket: the dark fabric meant that Morgan failed to notice she was wearing evidence of a crime the very night that one would be committed!"
"Objection!" came a shout from over at the prosecution's bench, "That's quite enough of your sensationalism, Mr. LeBlanc. I grow very weary of your theatrics. You've done a lot of speculating for this court, and we're all very impressed, but you're still missing some very important details. In case you forgot, the witness already enumerated them for you: motive, means, and opportunity, defense. You haven't explained a single one—you've merely show that the witness might have help direct suspicion onto the defense."
"But why else would she—"
"Be silent!" Lloyd looked ready to fly over to the defense bench and lop Robin's head off, "It makes no difference. Your duty now is to give the court a plausible explanation for the involvement of another party which exonerates the defendant—no less. If you cannot prove that the witness had some way to kill the victim, then this trial is over!"
"S-Shoot…!" Robin doubled over, "How can I prove that when everything's been hidden so well…?"
"I'm afraid I must agree with Prosecutor Reed, Mr. Leblanc," the judge stroked his beard, "The whole point of suspending this trial was to give both counsels time to prepare their evidence. If you planned to indict Ms. Cooper, you must have evidence to support that claim. Do you have such evidence?"
"Erm, of course I do, Your Honor," Robin nodded. At least, I sure as hell hope I do. Otherwise, I'm as good as sunk!
"What do you think, Mr. LeBlanc?" Morgan was balling her fists with determination as she stared at him.
"Honestly… I'm not sure where to go," the attorney admitted, "Nino has been very clever. There's a lot about this case that's really ambiguous—I'm sure that something is wrong, but I just can't say for sure who or what is responsible. There must be something that has only one point of contact in this case, something that could only possibly lead to one person…"
"Something that could only lead to one person, huh?" Morgan looked to the ceiling and stroked her chin, "I don't know, I'm drawing a blank."
Robin's eyes widened for a moment, then he looked back to Morgan, "Ross's talking about his father receiving gifts… It gave me an idea. Didn't you mention something special you gave Nino way back when I first questioned you?"
"Huh?" Morgan blinked, "Something special? You're being too vague, Mr. LeBlanc—I don't know what you mean."
"Think, Morgan," Robin encouraged her, "you told me you gave Nino something that only you could give her, isn't that right?"
"But I didn't give her any presents, unless… Oh. Oh! OH!" she shouted.
"Ahem!" the judge coughed, "If the defense is quite finished filling the air with its outbursts, perhaps in could instead fill it with evidence."
"Yes, Your Honor," Robin nodded, "The evidence that proves that Nino Cooper could have murdered Ewan Allen… is not in the defense's possession."
"Hah!" Lloyd shouted with extreme felicity, "I knew it! So ends the reign of the great attorney Robin LeBlanc! Don't be too broken up, Mr. LeBlanc—it happens to all lawyers eventually. In fact, you should be glad to get your first loss out of the way early."
"Let me finish, Mr. Reed," Robin squared his shoulders against his opponent, "The evidence isn't in the defense's possession, because it belongs to the witness!"
"W-What?!" Lloyd doubled over onto his desk.
Robin smirked, "I give Ms. Cooper credit: she did an immaculate job of tying up the loose ends, or, otherwise, leaving them loose enough that they don't point to anyone in particular. She's finally met her match, however, because I know there is one item in her possession that solves one of the biggest points of contention in this whole case!"
"And just what is that, you arrogant attorney?" the green-haired girl scowled at him.
"The cast you made of all your friends' hands," Robin folded his arms.
"W-W-What?!" she slipped and fell once more. Upon standing, her hair was in disarray and all semblance of composure had vanished from her face, "How did you know about that?! Uh, I mean—oops!"
"Oops, indeed," Robin continued, "Ms. Cassidy told me that a week before the performance, you had her and all of your friends make plaster casts of their hands as a way to remember them. From such a detailed replica, you could have easily copied the defendant's fingerprints, and then used them on a pair of specialized gloves while handling the murder weapon, which would explain why Morgan's prints weren't on the door but were on the weapon, and, more importantly, would isolate you as the one and only person as being capable of making them!"
"Ahhhh!" Nino shriveled and hid herself.
"Objection!" Lloyd shouted, "The mere possibility is not sufficient evidence, Mr. LeBlanc. How can you possibly prove that Ms. Cooper used such gloves?"
"Unfortunately, that evidence cannot be shown," Robin shook his head.
"As I thought, now, will you stop your jabbering and—"
"You really must let me finish my sentences," Robin thrust out his index finger, "The gloves cannot be entered into evidence because the witness disposed of them in her fireplace!"
"H-How's that?!" Lloyd grunted.
"I visited the witness's home when I was looking for more information, and there I smelled a strange odor. When I investigated the scent, the house's caretaker, Mr. Libra Concordia, told me that pranksters had thrown rotten eggs or sulfur into his chimney. If that was the case, however, then the material should have burned up and the smell should have been reduced. Upon further investigation, I found a scrap of rubber in the fireplace, accounting for the smell, and the appearance of our mystery prankster: Mr. Concordia never would have conceived that one of his own children would be the cause!"
"Th-That's not truuuuuuuuue!" Nino squirmed.
"Oh no?" Robin smirked, "Then, tell me, Ms. Cooper: where else could the rubber have come from?"
"I… I don't," she was grinding her teeth, "It must have… ooh!"
Robin folded his arms, "When you saw Morgan go to the bathroom, you left, too—no one could account for your whereabouts at the time because all eyes were on stage, right? So you went to the men's room while Morgan looked around and lay in wait for Mr. Allen. When he came in, you leapt out, surprised him with the knife while wearing the gloves, and then killed him. Afterward, you used the hair dye to make your illusion complete, catching Inigo's attention and then ducking out of the club before your crime was discovered. You returned home, washed out the dye, burned the gloves, and then returned to the club to make it appear as though you had never left while everyone was distracted with the discovery of the body! Isn't that the truth?!"
"S-S-Stooooooooooop!" she wailed.
"W-Wait just a minute!" Lloyd snarled, "This… this is all mere conjecture! Why in the world would Ms. Cooper kill one of her friends and blame another? It makes no sense whatsoever!"
Robin nodded, "It took me a while to discern that one, too, but I think I have a satisfactory answer." The attorney held up a photograph.
"Is that… the photo of the victim's circle of friends that was found in his jacket pocket?" the judge blinked.
"That's right," said Robin, "Recalling the statements of all of the victim's friends, something occurred to me: the only one of them who didn't have plans after leaving school was Nino Cooper, the most educationally successful one of them all—now, how does that make any sense?"
"H-Hey!" the girl shouted, "You leave my grades outta this, lawyer!"
"My next clue," Robin went on, unperturbed, "came when I visited the witness's home. Her mother, Mrs. Sonia Verdun is a very… competitive woman, and she's especially concerned with her daughter and her performance. She's so strict, in fact, that we might reasonably expect that it affected her daughter's social life."
"Where is this going, you fool?!" Lloyd was practically foaming at the mouth.
Robin took another deep breath and looked Nino straight in the eyes, "Nino. Tell the court the truth: you were scared your only friends would leave you, so you killed Ewan to make sure they would all stay together, didn't you?"
"Of all the ridiculous!" Lloyd punched his desk, "Unsubstantiated! Ham-fisted! Insulting explanations I've ever heard!"
"…Yes," Nino sobbed.
"Wh-Wh-Wh-WHAAAAAAAAAT?!" Lloyd's eyes ballooned and he stumbled back, clutching his chest.
Nino pulled her hairband down and let her locks flow forward. Some of the curly bangs that dropped down were orange and yellow, hurriedly tucked behind her ears and into her 'do. As she sobbed, she held up a crumpled copy of the same photo that had been brought into evidence. "Everything Mr. LeBlanc has said is true. I… I can't hide it any longer. My mother… she pushed me so hard, and I was scared… I… didn't know what I was doing, but I didn't want my friends to leave. I thought… maybe a tragedy could make them all stay. At first, I thought I'd kill Morgan for all the trouble she gave me—not even trying and getting grades almost as high as me, how dare she! But… then I realized that everyone would blame me if I did that, so I made a new plan: I would kill another of our friends and blame it on her, that way everyone left would despise her and stay close with me."
"This is… unbelievable," the judge remarked.
"I took the casts of everyone's hands," Nino went on, "and, well, you heard the rest from Mr. LeBlanc. I killed Ewan, planting Morgan's prints on the knife, then took off his jacket and threw it in the trash… I did everything I could to implicate Morgan. But I guess I failed."
Morgan sniffled, "Nino… why didn't you just talk to us? We could have fixed this? It didn't have to end up like… this."
"Morgan…" the green-haired girl stared back at her, "I know these words mean nothing now, but, for whatever little it's worth, at least for my own sake, I have to say, I'm sorry. I was so frightened, and I didn't want my mother to ruin all that we had together, all of us. I just felt like there was nowhere I could turn."
The judge shook his head, "Well, I think we can safely say that this trial has reached its end. Unless either counsels have any objections, I am prepared to confer with the jury to arrive at a verdict."
"No objections, Your Honor," Robin breathed for the first time in what seemed like quite a while.
Lloyd Reed had completely vanished from the prosecution's desk.
"Well," the judge blinked a few times, "I'll have to have a chat with Prosecutor Reed about proper courtroom etiquette. For now, however, I will take this to mean there are no objections." The judge began to sidle over to the jury box, where he spoke to the jurors.
Robin glanced over his shoulder, "Morgan, is everything all right?"
"Huh?" she looked to each side as if someone had tapped her on the back, "Sorry, I'm… still kinda thinking my way through this, Mr. LeBlanc."
I guess that's pretty understandable, Robin thought, After all, given what I went through… I don't know how I'd react if the situation had been like this.
The judge resumed his position at the bench, "As you can probably guess by the speed of our deliberations, this court unanimously finds the defendant, Morgan Cassidy… Not Guilty. This court is adjourned!"
A few cheers and exhausted sighs of relief sounded through the court. Robin smiled, picked up his things, and exited the courtroom with Morgan slowly plodding along one step behind him.
[October 21st, 2:08 pm, District Court-Defendant Lobby No. 4]
Robin sat down on the sofa and exhaled, "What a fight. I almost can't believe it's over."
"Me neither," Morgan eventually plopped down beside him, "I'm… sorry for almost sabotaging my own defense, Mr. LeBlanc. And I'm glad that you were there to finish defending me."
"Oh, no worries, Morgan," he smiled, "I respect your dedication to your friends. I can't rightly say I would have acted any differently if it were me."
"So you told me," she giggled.
"Morgie-worgie!" Eirika Verlain ran up and ensnared the little redhead in a tight hug, "Oh, my precious Morgan! I'm so glad you're coming back home! I just knew they'd have to see it your way."
"Thanks, mom," she smiled broadly, "I'll be happy to come home, too."
"And…" the aqua-haired woman relinquished her daughter, "I suppose I owe you a big thanks, too, Mr. LeBlanc. If it weren't for you, my little Morgie would be singing the jailbird's song. You proved that you're worthy of succeeding my father."
Robin blushed, "Ah, that's a bit much, perhaps. After all, Morgan was abundantly involved in her own defense. Without her, I don't know what I would have done."
"Well, I think you've earned your stripes, anyway," she flashed him a big smile, then turned back to Morgan, "Ready to go home, sweetie?"
Morgan's expression was mixed, "Um… not just yet. Can I wait here a bit longer?"
Eirika's eyes went wide, "Oh. Um, of course, do as you will."
"Thanks," Morgan said, "it shouldn't take long."
As if on cue, Inigo, Ross, and Cath all spilled into the defense lobby, along with Nino, who was being led out in handcuffs. "Everyone," the green-haired girl turned to them, "I know it's impossible to forgive what I've done, but… my conscience will never be clear unless I tell you all that I'm sorry. I only did it out of love for all of you, as twisted an expression of love as it was."
"Don't you dare speak to us of love, you scheming bitch!" Cath growled.
"How dare you go after poor ol' Morg like that! Not to mention you axed little Ewy! How can you expect us to take your apology seriously?" Ross joined her.
"Nino… I forgive you," Morgan sighed.
"What?" the others jumped in unison.
"But Morgan, she killed Ewan and pinned the blame on you! How can you say that?" Inigo demanded.
Morgan nodded, "Nino did some awful things, but that's for her to live and cope with on her own terms. For my part… well, it's not like I'll ever be able to forget about what she did, but I want to be able to remember the Nino Cooper who hung out with us drinking fruit juice in the diners after school, and who helped all of us on those tricky assignments, and who played the violin for us late at night when we all slept over together… That's the Nino I want to keep on knowing."
"Morgan…" Nino teared up and buried her head, "Morgan, someday, if I ever get out of prison, I don't think there's anything I could ever do to make this all up to you, to repay you the kindness you've given me, but, if there is… you can bet nothing will stop me from making it happen."
"Hahaha!" Morgan giggled, "There's that fierce determination I remember from our spelling bees. I'll come visit you first thing tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay," she was led away, tears streaming down her cheeks, "Thank you, Morgan."
Robin smiled even wider as Morgan sat back down next to him. "You have some really amazing friends, Morgan," he said.
"Trust me, I know," she grinned at each of them, "And I know that wherever life takes us, we're always gonna stay close."
"No doubt," Cath grinned.
"You got it," Ross gave a thumbs-up.
"Naturally," Inigo bowed.
"Ya know, maybe we were a little harsh on Nino. I'm still pissed, but she didn't deserve that. Mind if I join you when you visit her, Morgan?" asked Cath.
"Of course not," she smiled, "I'd be happy to have you."
"Then I simply must tag along," Inigo nodded.
"Count me in," Ross affirmed,
"Heehee," Morgan giggled, "you guys. Just don't be late, all right?"
They expressed their agreement and said their goodbyes.
When the trio of friends departed, Eirika turned to Morgan, "Well, all set then, sweetheart?"
"Actually, I wanted to discuss something, mom."
"Can it wait until we get back?"
"Not exactly. I think I've figured out what I want to study now that I've graduated."
"Really? And what's that?"
The little redheaded girl stepped in front of Robin, who started up from his lounging position, "Er, yes?"
"Mr. LeBlanc, I was wondering if you'd be willing to take me on as your student."
"My student?" Robin exclaimed, "Morgan, I'm just a rookie, myself. I'm sure there are people more qualified to teach you."
"Maybe, but I like the way you look at things, Mr. LeBlanc," she smiled, "in the same way I like the way Fado—er, my grandpa thought about things. I don't want anyone teaching me but him or his disciples, and that leaves only you."
Decision by default. How reassuring. "Well, I'm not really sure what to say, Morgan. How do you feel about it, Eirika?"
Eirika tapped her finger on her chin, "Hmm… Morgan is legally an adult, so she can choose to pursue whatever she wants… However, she will need a legal guardian in the event she has a problem, and I can only provide financial support to the kids up until they're eighteen… I think you'd be a good candidate to be her new guardian, Mr. LeBlanc. With that feisty secretary of yours, I think she'd be in a great environment with good male and female role models."
Robin blinked, "You're asking me if I want to adopt her?"
"Basically," Eirika Verlaine shrugged.
Morgan balled her fists, "Don't worry, though! I won't be a mooch! I'm a hard worker! Give me any task and I'll get it done! I'll clean the dishes, and the toilets, and the carpets, and the walls—anything to make it worth your while!"
"All right, all right," Robin put his hands out, "please, spare me the sales pitch. If Fado Verlaine's own daughter is asking me to take care of you, I can't very well say no, can I?"
"So you'll let me?" She jumped up, "YES! Oh, thank you so much, Boss! I promise to work and study like crazy!"
"Easy!" Robin tried to calm her down as she began to run laps around the room, "Let's talk about this whole 'Boss' thing…"
And that was the story of how I met my irreplaceable understudy. She would follow alongside me in the cases to come, and the asset she became would be invaluable during those trials. Of course, big questions still sat in my head about Sonia Verdun and why she had been so ardent about keeping me off the trail of her daughter. At the time, it seemed like one of those things that mortals just aren't meant to know. Later cases would convince me otherwise, however…
[Turnabout of a Kind ~ Trial Day 2-End]
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