[April 17th, 12:51 pm, District Court-Courtroom No. 1]

The air was sharp as both counsels reentered the courtroom. Chatter between members of the gallery hummed and droned like an electrical buzz as they took their positions and looked up at the judge, who was watching the lawyers enter. When he saw that they were both prepared, he slammed his gavel down on his desk and called for order.

"Court will now reconvene for the trial of Pelleas Apoleus," he announced, "When we left off, Ms. Verra, you were entrusted with preparing a witness for further examination. Is that witness now prepared?"

"Y-Yes, Your Honor," she stammered, "but please forgive the witness a bit of… eccentricity. He's not from this country, and some of his manners are not quite befitting a court."

"That is of no concern. Please bring the witness forward so that we may continue."

Urusla did as she was told while Robin and Fado exchanged glances. When they looked back to the witness stand, a broad-figured man with a thick mane of forest-green hair stood before them. "Mane" was not an exaggeration, either—his entire face was encircled by this thick hair, not the least of which coated his chin in an impressive beard and finely-tailored mustache. His pupils were small, a bit wild-looking, and he had a prominent beak of a nose that hung out like a stony gargoyle watching over the aforementioned mustache. Frankly, the man looked ridiculous. The fact that he happened to be wearing his grease-stained apron (presumably from working at the café) only accentuated that fact, as it only drew more attention to his rotund figure. Still, he seemed to be in somewhat good spirits about the whole thing, looking at both counsels with amusement in his eyes.

"Name and occupation for the record, witness," Ursula commanded.

"I'm Dozla Spokony," the green-maned man told the court at a much higher volume than Ursula, "I'm the cook and the owner of the Posto Ladro Café. A little birdie tells me you folks need little ol' me to help you answer some questions."

"That's right," said the judge, "some important contradictions have appeared in certain testimonies, and it is this court's hope that yours can resolve them."

"Hah! It wouldn't be the first time, old boy! Looks like ol' Dozla's gotta save the day all over again!"

"Yes, so, Mr. Spokony, if we may—" Ursula was quickly interrupted.

"I was just tellin' the prosecutor-lady over there how lucky she is to have to mighty Dozla in her corner! Ah ha ha ha! I mean, here I was, just finishin' off a late breakfast for the missus, then, all of a sudden, I got police bangin' on my door! I tell, ya, ol' Dozla figured it was some old debt finally catchin' up on him! Imagine my surprise when I found out they want me to testify! Wah ha ha ha!"

"Mr. Spokony, if we could…"

"Normally, I'd'a slammed the door in their face then and there, but here was this pretty young prosecutor girl, and she was throwin' orders left and right—reminded me of a girl I used to work for. What can I say, I'm a sucker for pretty gals that know what they like! Ha ha ha ha!"

Robin watched this display with nothing short of incredulity written on his face. Geez, if he keeps this up, he might even beat Fado in his laughing quotient for the day.

Fado had his arms folded and his cheeks tight in a smile of restraint.

"Mr. Spokony!" Ursula slammed her hands on her desk, "That will be quite enough of your rambling! This is a criminal trial, and you will take it seriously!"

"Wah ha ha! Whatever you say, lass!" He grinned at her.

Ursula scoffed and looked around the room before her eyes settled on Robin.

Don't look at me. You got yourself into this.

Ursula turned her head to the side, as if looking at the bearded man before her were too much at this point. "Your Honor, would you please bring the witness to heel?"

"Mr. Spokony," the judge said, tugging at his own beard, "while this court appreciates your enthusiasm, we do need to go on with the trial now, if you'd be so kind."

"Of course!" he said, placing his fists squarely against his hips, "I'll get right down to testifyin' whenever you folks are ready!"

Settling down, Ursula faced him again. "Mr. Spokony, will you tell the court what you witnessed on the day of the blackout—the day of Ms. Viscount's death?"

"You got it!" he exclaimed with a nod, "Right, well, that day was a scorcher, for sure. Inside the kitchen, that is—outside it was stormy. Maybe a little humid, but just that kind of humidity that makes for those big showers and lightning that arcs across the sky—know what I mean? Makes a man's blood boil, ha ha! Anyhow, I was workin' in the kitchen just like normal, and you wouldn't believe how hot it gets when you gotta wear three hair nets at once! It was a busy day, then, and I hardly left the kitchen except to do my business and clean up every once in a while. It wasn't 'til I saw ol' Forde stumble into the lounge that things started picking up. His face was pretty pale; I guessed he musta spent another night drinking too much. Real social butterfly, that one. So, anyway, time marches on and the lights went out, but I went on cooking for a bit—so many orders! Anyway, we've had electric problems in the past. I figured a bulb had just gone out over my head, so I kept at it, but I had to stop when it got so dark that I just couldn't see. I wandered into the dining room and bumped into Amelia. Poor girl was worryin' her head off, and she told me that the lights in the whole building had gone off! Ha, and I had no idea! Well, bein' the only man in the place with half a brain for this sorta stuff, I figured it mighta been a problem with the breaker. Sure enough, I went into the lodge, unlocked the breaker, and switched it back on and—bam! Let there be light! And that's the tale of how Dozla saved the day for the 1,872nd time! Ah ha ha ha! Er, well, and then there was the whole thing with the murder… I was the one who called the police, too. After I made that call, I had Forde guard the rear exit while I took the front so no one could get out. Thankfully, the back door stays locked during the day, so even if someone had tried getting out that way, it wouldn't have done 'em any good. It was a long day, altogether."

I hope that wasn't a real count, especially if that's what he considers "saving the day."

"Now," Fado said, knocking Robin out of his own head, "I know the witness is quite a cut-up, lad, but don't let that distract you from the fact that he just said something important. I'd recommend following up ASAP."

"Right."

"Mr. LeBlanc, I believe it is now your turn to cross-examine the witness, if you're ready."

"I am. Thank you, Your Honor," Robin said, shifting his focus outward, "Mr. Spokony, there are a few things you mentioned in your testimony that I find very interesting. I'd like to ask you a bit more about them, if you don't mind."

"Hah! I may be a little older than you, lad, but you don't have to go gettin' all formal with ol' Dozla! Ask away!"

"First, I want to clarify, since you didn't mention it: did you see the victim's body?"

"That I did, lad," he said soberly, "that I did."

"Did you know the victim at all?"

"Sure as I'm alive, I did. Little Leila was a regular at my place. She came by a lot, especially on rainy days, like that one. She was always lookin' over some important stuff. After a few months of comin' in and not sayin' much to anyone, I walked over to 'er in a free moment and asked what she was up to, and she gives me a big ol' smile that warmed my heart. She tells me she works for the government and can't talk much about it, and I says that's fine, but then she says she's real glad someone interrupted her for a bit, on account of she was losing her mind, ha ha! Well, I went about tellin' her I was the cook and the place's owner, and she got real happy, thanking me for everything I'd made. She was a charmer, no doubt! Then she asks if I can make her biscotti, because she always used to have it with her coffee before her favorite place shut down. Well, we don't have biscotti on our menu, but I just couldn't say no to such a nice young lady, so I made it for her, and didn't she come back asking for it again the next day, ha ha! I been making her biscotti nearly every day since, and no one else. She's a dear friend. Or… she was, until this ugly business came about."

Looks like this was personal for Mr. Spokony. I'm surprised he didn't speak up right away. Maybe he was just to aggrieved to say anything when they asked for testimony. Poor guy. I hope asking that didn't upset him too much.

"Thank you," Robin said, "Next, I just want to verify that you said you saw Forde Willow enter the employee lounge before the lights went out, is that right?"

"Sure is, lad. Sure is."

"Then, clearly, the testimony of Amelia Arealla can't be taken as fact. We've just listened to the witness verify the fact that the only other person on the floor at the time of blackout was in the employee lounge at that moment. This would mean that Ms. Arealla may be lying to this court, which would place her in a very serious—"

"Objection!" Ursula extended her hand at the defense attorney. "Mr. LeBlanc, before you go getting ahead of yourself, please remember that I am not so foolish as to let anything that obvious slip by me. Mr. Spokony, please tell the defense what you told me about the state of the lounge when you entered it."

"Ah, right. The lounge was empty when I went in there, son. I figured Forde musta gone back to it."

"W-What?!" Robin started, "B-But that's…!"

Ursula wagged her finger at him. "Tut tut, Mr. LeBlanc. Such outbursts are unbecoming a proper lawyer. The fact is this: despite what he heard, the witness saw no one in the lounge when he entered to fix the lighting issue. Thus, we resolve all the defense's posturing at once—now, Amelia Arealla, Forde Willow, and Dozla Spokony's testimonies all line up perfectly. There can surely be no doubt that everything is as I and the police department deduced."

"Th-That… that can't be."

"And why not? Mr. LeBlanc, I admire your sense of dedication. You've done well to stand so long against a prosecutor appointed by the state. Even in failure, you may exit this courtroom with your head held high, but the fact of the matter is that you've lost. Prolonging things like this only reflects on you as desperate and sad. Don't tarnish your burgeoning reputation—give up, and accept the way things are."

D-Damn it! All this prep time, all that new information—was it a waste? Is there really nothing else I can say?

"Take a deep breath, Robin."

"Fado?"

"Concentrate. She's trying to end this by getting in your head."

"But I've got nothing! I came this far, and we're still right back at the beginning—I don't have any evidence I can use against her! Everything I've done to try to move the focus around in this trial, she just closes the loophole like it's nothing!"

"Robin!" His voice became sterner. "You're panicking. Take a moment and collect your thoughts if you don't want to be overwhelmed."

"C-Collect my thoughts? But—"

"No 'buts!' That's an order from your boss!"

Robin did as he was told, swallowing a mouthful of air, letting it build in his chest, and expelling it slowly.

"Good," said Fado, "Now, let's think this through rationally. Right now, we've got two competing stories: one says that Ms. Arealla and Mr. Willow were both in the dining room when the murder happened. The other says that Mr. Willow was in the employee lounge at the time. There's no way both of those things could be true at the same time. So now, which one is true?"

"…I don't know. I thought Forde had to have been in the lounge, but now Mr. Spokony said he wasn't…"

"Don't be taken in by her cockiness, Robin. Think for a minute: didn't she present an earlier piece of evidence about Forde?"

"Ah. That's right, the medical examiner's report. But I don't see how that helps us…"

"Think a little harder. What did the report say, again?"

"Hm? Well, it diagnosed him with heatstroke, said he should get some rest and fluids, mentioned that his judgment might have been impaired for a bit, and said that he might have choked himself struggling to get his uniform off. Wait. Oh!"

"Got it now?" Fado was smiling.

"I… think so? If Forde took his uniform off, it was probably still in the room, right? In fact, I think I remember Ursula saying the police found it there."

"There you go. And that means?"

"If Dozla didn't see his uniform… then it wouldn't make sense that he had gone in before Dozla, right?"

"Sound logic to me. Much easier when you're thinking clearly, don't you think so, son?"

"If only it were that easy."

"It is if you make it. Go on, now. You're not afraid. You can do it."

"Right."

"Mr. LeBlanc," said the judge, "Are you finished deliberating with your co-counsel? Now would be the time to make any final thoughts known, or I'll have to render my verdict immediately."

"One more question for Mr. Spokony," said the young attorney, "Did you happen to see Mr. Willow's uniform on the floor when you entered the room?"

"Now that you mention it," the man tugged at his beard and looked thoughtfully at the ceiling, projecting the image of the room onto it, "No, I didn't see it until after the doctors came to check up on the kid."

"Are you satisfied, Mr. LeBlanc?" Ursula frowned at the defense.

Robin smiled and nodded. "I am. Objection!"

"Oh, not really… You can't be serious."

"Mr. Spokony, you just told the court that you saw Forde Willow enter the employee lounge before entering it yourself several minutes later. When you entered the room, however, you claim you didn't see his uniform, which, it was noted by both the police and the medical examiner who evaluated him, was lying plainly on the floor of the room. Therefore, I say your testimony is impossible!"

"Objection!" Ursula was scowling. "On what do you base that? How do you know the witness didn't re-enter the lounge and take the uniform off then?"

"That would contradict the medical examiner's report, which stated that he nearly choked himself trying to remove it while suffering from heatstroke."

"But… but, he could have simply thrown it off, picked it up and taken it with him when he recovered his senses, and then thrown it back on the floor later!"

"That'd be an oddly convoluted thing to do for no reason. What's more, it would also contradict the current witness's testimony. Mr. Spokony, you said you had Forde guard the rear exit as soon as you realized what happened, didn't you?"

"Sure did!"

"And he stayed at that position until the police arrived, which is when the uniform was collected as evidence."

"That's as true as can be."

Ursula flinched. She recovered by standing up straighter and brushing a lock of hair out of her face. "W-Well, that's all very good work, Mr. LeBlanc, but what do you intend to prove with all this?"

"Well," Robin said, folding his arms, "it has just been proven beyond a reasonable doubt that Forde did indeed enter the lounge before Dozla did, and yet, according to Dozla's testimony, neither he nor his uniform were present when he entered the lounge. Moreover, Amelia claimed she heard him walking around in the dining room when that would clearly be impossible."

"Yes, you've made a fine mess of good testimony. What of it?"

"There's something else Mr. Spokony mentioned that I'd like to ask him about."

"Wuh? Again? Uh, go ahead."

"You mentioned that the breaker you switched on was in the lounge, right?"

"Yep."

"And you had to unlock it to open it?"

"Yeah. Can't have kids or other people who don't know what they're doin' messin' around with electrical equipment like that."

"Are you the only one with the key to that breaker, Mr. Spokony?" Robin leaned forward, placing his hands on his desk.

Ursula groaned, "Oh, you are not—"

"Nah. Amelia and Forde each have one, too, plus keys to the doors to lock the place up at night if I need to leave early."

Robin smiled. "Your Honor, I think I have a theory that could completely change the court's interpretation of these events."

"Really?" the judge said with wide-eyed interest, "Don't keep us in suspense, please!"

"See, up to now, everyone has been assuming that the café experienced a blackout because of the storm outside, but what if it was really caused by someone waiting for an opportunity?!"

"N-No way…!" Ursula grunted.

"Wh-What now?!" Dozla jumped up from behind the stand.

Chatter spread throughout the gallery.

"A most interesting theory, Mr. LeBlanc," said the judge, "I'm curious—"

"Objection!" Ursula slammed her fist on her desk, "Explain, right now! How in the world can you propose something so ludicrous? Why would someone have done something like this?"

Robin shook his head. "Having thoroughly analyzed the situation, this is the only possibility that makes sense. Among the three witness's testimonies, all three of them contradict each other in some way, but none of them possess any discernible motive to lie, except to implicate the others, but, in that case, at least two of the accounts should agree, and the third should stand out. Besides that, none of the staff have any reason to kill the victim! That someone else is involved is the only way we could have three separate accounts of how things happened!"

"I think you should have your head thoroughly analyzed, with that kind of logic! You honestly expect me and the rest of this court to believe that because the cook failed to notice a uniform, the only logical possibility is that another figure was conspiring from the shadows all along?! Not that I really need to ask, but do you have any evidence whatsoever that might support this little theory of yours?"

Robin frowned. Not a speck. I guess I should've known better than to fly off the handle like that.

Fado smiled, looking down at his protégé. "Don't tell me you're throwing in the towel? Remember, the prosecution's evidence is your evidence, too. Shouldn't there be something else amiss if another person was present?"

Robin's eyes flashed. "That's it! I don't know what I'd do without you, Fado!"

"It's what I'm here for," the senior attorney said, folding his arms in satisfaction.

Robin looked back at Ursula. "I think I just might have the evidence you're after. I want to take a look at those security tapes you mentioned!"

"Objection! There's no use in doing that. The tapes cut out before the crime occurred. They can't tell us anything we don't already know."

"Objection! Ms. Amelia Arealla testified that the entire dining room was 'packed' most of the day, including the time when the victim and defendant were being served. What if we were to look on those cameras and spot an empty table? Or, better yet, a table with food or drinks, but no one sitting there?"

"Why, that would mean someone had left their seat near the time of the crime…" the judge said.

Thanks for the assist, Your Honor. "If we check the tapes, we can prove that someone else had the opportunity to kill the victim!"

"G-Gah!" Ursula doubled over.

"Bailiff," the judge commanded, "bring the monitor in. Get that footage playing right away!"

The bailiff sighed and wheeled a monitor into the room on a black cart. He plugged the monitor and a small DVD player into the wall and placed a disk inside the machine, listening to it hum as it started.

The clip shown portrayed the scene much as it had been described by the staff: the café was filled to the brim with patrons all chatting and drinking or eating, and the lone waiter and waitress scuttled through the room busily for minutes on end, attending to every table they could along the way. Suddenly, a man got up from his table and began walking. "Wait," Robin called out, "rewind a few seconds and look down there, at the bottom-right."

The video rewound and showed the same figure, a man dressed mostly in black with stringy blue hair and a pronounced nose watched Forde pass him by, then rose from his seat and walked to the back of the café, leaving a glass of water and a heel of bread unattended on the table.

"Right there!" Robin exclaimed, "Just as I thought: this man left the room right before the crime occurred! That means he could have just as easily committed the crime himself!"

"Objection!" Ursula shouted, "Just a moment! I will concede that this footage proves that someone left his seat prior to the crime, but I will not for a moment entertain the idea that he killed the victim. On what sort of evidence do you base a conclusion like that? How can you possibly prove where he went afterward?"

"Well, in order to prove it decisively, I'd need his testimony to compare…"

"Oh no, that trick won't work again. I won't bother asking the police department to go and round up another altogether innocent party because you're unable to adequately do your job! You will explain to me right now how you can claim that this man could have killed Ms. Viscount!"

"'Could have?'" Robin took a deep breath and nodded. "All right, I'll prove conclusively that this person had the means to kill the victim."

Ursula only growled a bit.

"Good to see you showing a bit more confidence, my boy," Fado said, "You're even taking me a bit by surprise, here."

That makes two of us.

"Just the same, are you sure you're ready to go ahead with this?"

"Yeah. I've thought about this case for a while now, and this is the only way things make any sense. I know this mystery person is guilty, I just have to prove that it was possible for him to be the killer instead, and I'll get a chance to question him properly. Then I can take him down."

"Ah, the ardor of youth. Warms these old bones, so it does."

Robin cleared his throat and addressed the court. "As I said before, there are three separate accounts of what happened at the time of the crime that conflict with one another in some way. The first came from Ms. Arealla, who claimed that she heard her coworker, Mr. Willow, walking around the dining room at the time of the crime. The easiest explanation to resolve this contradiction with the other two testimonies, which place Forde in the employee lounge, is to suppose that someone else was walking around at the time."

"But you can't prove that it wasn't Mr. Willow!" Ursula protested, "And even if it wasn't, you can't prove that this other person tried to poison the victim!"

"Hold it! The next contradiction is tougher to resolve: a delirious Forde Willow enters the employee lounge, suffering from heatstroke. Dozla sees him enter. In this time, he passes out and discards his uniform shirt. When Dozla returns and reactivates the breaker, he fails to notice Forde or his shirt in the now brightly-lit room. Regardless, Forde and his shirt both appear in that room after the fact. How could that be?"

"Clearly, one of them isn't telling the—"

"What if, after he lost consciousness, someone transported Forde to another room, say, the bathroom right across the hall, before the power was restored, and then returned him once the lights came back on?"

"Objection! 'What if' indeed! How could anyone have known that Mr. Willow would lose consciousness in the lounge?"

Robin shook his head. "They didn't."

"What?"

"You'll notice that before he heads to the back, our mystery patron glances at Forde, as if sizing him up. This person planned to render Forde unconscious as soon as he went back to the lounge, heatstroke or no. Being assaulted would also account for the abrasion on Forde's neck."

"But how could he have known Forde would enter at just that time?"

"He didn't have to. He watched to make sure Forde wasn't looking, then ducked into the room and waited for Forde to go there, prepared to take his chance whenever it came."

"Why in the world would he do something like that?"

"When Forde entered, the patron knocked him out to take his uniform, which he then donned as he hid the unconscious body elsewhere. He then used Forde's keys to unlock the breaker and shut off the lights. In the dark, with his face obscured, anyone could mistake this mystery patron for Forde Willow, giving him the chance to move about the dining room without being detected, even letting him approach the victim's table…"

"Just a minute! Are you honestly telling me that Mr. Willow failed to notice someone lying in wait for him in a room with no ostensible hiding spots?"

"It's as you described earlier, Ms. Verra: Mr. Willow's functioning and judgment were impaired, and his memory of the moment is hazy at best. If we can believe he almost choked himself to death trying to take off his shirt in a haze, is it any less likely he didn't notice someone waiting to grab him and knock him out? After all, the witness only specifically testified about feeling a tightness in his throat."

"N-No! But that…"

"The mystery patron, disguised as Forde, leaves the bathroom, Forde's body safely stowed therein. He then walks through the dining room, drops the poison in the victim's cup, and walks away, unnoticed, and returns to the bathroom. In this time, Dozla enters the employee lounge, opens the breaker, activates the lights, and goes back out to the dining room to speak with Amelia and, eventually, learn about the body. As he does so, the patron drags Forde back into the lounge, throws his uniform off in haste, and flees to the dining room to reintegrate with the other patrons in the confusion. When Forde regains consciousness, he is exactly where he remembers being, and so he rejoins the other staff and helps block the exits. What do you think of that, Ms. Verra?"

"I have a simple but very important question for you, Mr. LeBlanc," she said in reply, "The keyring for the circuit breaker also held the key to the front and back exits of the café. Why did this patron not simply unlock the back door, or, even more simply, run out the front door when he had the chance?"

"If he did, someone would realize what had happened. If he left out the front door, he would have been spotted and heard fleeing the scene just before the body was discovered, and if he used the key on the back door, he would have needed to either ditch the keys somewhere nearby or keep them on his person. In either case, someone would realize they had been moved, and would have put the pieces together."

Ursula grit her teeth, but remained silent.

"Ms. Verra," the judge said, "do you have any further questions?"

"I… I…" The prosecutor continued to stammer for several seconds more before slamming her fist on her desk and letting her hair hang low. The judge's eyes widened in concern, but before he could say anything, she lifted her head again. "No, Your Honor. Loath though I am to say it… I cannot conjure any reason to object to the defense's claim. I must concede that it is possible that another party was responsible for the murder of Leila Viscount. However, this means that the defense now has no choice but to indict this individual if they wish to proceed with their case."

Robin nodded. "I'm comfortable with that. I will formally indict the person shown leaving the dining room as soon as I know his name."

"Since records were taken of everyone present at the café at the time the police arrived, summoning this individual to testify on his own behalf will take some time, but can be done without fail. I would ask for another brief recess from His Honor."

"You shall most certainly have it," said the judge, "I can sense everyone in the court is wearing down a bit, as I'm feeling that fatigue myself. We will halt the proceedings for one hour, in which time the prosecution should prepare its witness. I strongly advise that both counsels also eat something and rest a bit. It wouldn't do to have a pair of exhausted attorneys carry out the end of this trial, would it?"

"No, Your Honor," both counsels replied.

"Good. Then this court is now in recess!"

[April 17th, 2:03 pm, District Court-Defendant Lobby No. 1]

"Heh. I expected this one to be complex, but despite all my years of experience, I never expected it to go on quite this long," Fado said, combing his fingers through his hair and, afterward, his beard, "The amount of effort you've put in so far has been frankly astonishing, Robin."

Robin didn't say anything.

"Robin? Lad?" his mentor repeated.

The young attorney was bent over a clutter of paperwork, although his eyes weren't moving. He sat and stared fixedly at the page with no response.

"I'm talking to you, son," Fado told him, slapping him firmly on the back, "As your boss, that means I need you to answer."

"Oh!" he jumped, "Sorry. I just… my heart is beating so fast after all that, I can hardly focus. I never thought I'd get this far, but now we're about to hear from a witness with almost no preparation… And he might very well be the one responsible. How do I go about handling this? He'll deny what I'm saying, of course, so how can I go about refuting him? It's a completely unknown element!"

"Easy, lad. You won't get anything done by letting your brain move a million miles a minute. You've got to keep thinking as clearly as you can, all right? You already have your set of facts, so stick to those for as long as you can. This is the pivotal moment in the trial: you've got your story, and the prosecution has theirs. All you have to do at this point is convince the jury that yours is more probable than hers, and that all comes together if you can make it look like our witness is being dishonest. Now, you truly believe Pelleas is innocent, don't you?"

"Of course. At this point, there's no doubt in my mind, especially after seeing that video."

"Then you've got everything you need. If Pelleas isn't guilty, then this witness is the only person who can be, so conduct your questioning from that perspective. Don't go all-out with your accusations, though: game the witness a little. Unless you're incredibly lucky, you're not going to get an outright confession on the stand. You'll just have to goad the truth out of him, little by little, until you get the jury on your side against him."

Robin took a deep breath. "Your experience really shows, Fado. Even in a situation as tense as this, here you are teaching me."

He grinned. "I've been in my fair share of tense situations, lad. This is just another teachable moment. You'll have to start getting used to this feeling."

That'll be awfully hard to do, although I really do appreciate Fado's help. I thought he was throwing me to the wolves by giving me this case, but I can see it all so clearly now, and it doesn't seem quite so untouchable. This must have been how he saw it from the start. Incredible, that he could size it up so quickly—it took me the entire trial to get to this point! Did he even figure out the bit about the real culprit? What I wouldn't give to have his skills… but that's a thought for later. That goal begins with the step of finally getting this trial figured out. There's only one obstacle left in my way, but what is he going to say in response to all this?

"Mr. LeBlanc, a moment?"

Robin looked up from his page to see the dark-blue-encompassed visage of Pelleas Apoleus staring back at him. If he wasn't mistaken, Robin could swear he saw a smile tugging at the corner of the ambassador's cheek.

"Mr. Apoleus," Robin said, lifting his eyebrows, "Of course, is there something you wanted to say about the case?"

"Not this time," he replied, "you seem to have my thinking beat by several steps at this point. It's all I can do to keep up! No, this time, I simply wanted to extend my thanks."

"Your thanks? I hate to say it, but we haven't won yet."

"That's not quite what I meant. I meant for being my counsel in this trial. I mentioned my concerns about your qualifications earlier in this trial, but the fortitude of your defense hasn't waned even a little throughout this whole trial. You've believed in me when I felt that most everyone I knew had given up, and…"

Sensing the mood, Robin nodded. "No need to worry, Mr. Apoleus. It's my job to fight as hard for you as I can, and to stick with you in the roughest times. If not for belief in my clients, as a lawyer, I'd have nothing."

The ambassador now clearly showed a smile, albeit a rocky one that alternated with quick sniffles. "I told you about my father… for that reason, I've never been treated very well in public office, either. You know, it wasn't my idea to become ambassador. That was a part of my father's schemes. That's all I ever really was to him: a pawn. Something to be used and then discarded when he was finished. But now I've outlived him—the tool discards its owner. Life is cruel that way."

"Mr. Apoleus…?"

"Forgive me. Today has been an emotional day, and I fear all my bitterness is rising to the top along with my joy. I always wanted to take up a paintbrush and live out in the country. If you could do me the great service of setting me free, Mr. LeBlanc… I should like to pursue that dream."

"It's certainly a dream worth pursuing. I'll get you there, Mr. Apoleus. You have my promise."

"Thank you. Your confidence means everything to me. And I suppose I also ought to thank you, Mr. Verlaine."

"Who, me?" Fado laughed, "No need. I've only been giving tips, like a good mentor should. Robin has done everything he's done today on his own."

Robin nodded appreciatively at his mentor.

"Somebody order delivery?"

The three men turned their heads to the glass doors of the lobby as they swung shut. Beyond them, a redheaded woman carried several styrofoam containers in plastic bags hanging from her arms.

"Anna!" Fado jumped up to help her. "We certainly did. Come on, grab a seat. Mr. Apoleus, you may remember my secretary, Ms. Anna Vendise."

The redhead followed her employer over to the sofa and laid the containers on the table before them. Each of them opened a container to find an array of tantalizing food inside: in front of Robin, a chunk of ground beef slathered with cheddar cheese oozed juice from under a brioche roll. He picked it up hesitantly, not sure if he deserved the treat, but bit into it hungrily when both Fado and Anna gave him a nod.

As the group began to eat their food, Fado set about describing their exploits in the courtroom that day, making sure to emphasize Robin's successes and editorializing a bit about how confident the young attorney had been throughout all of the proceedings. Robin didn't feel particularly compelled to protest, especially with his cheeseburger never straying far from his mouth as they spoke, but he did find it a little strange that Fado was giving him so much credit in front of the only other employee in their office—Anna knew all about Robin, and she knew the person Fado was describing wasn't him. Still, just as curiously, she never really protested or tried to dig for details except when they pertained to the case. She just listened intently and picked bits of what Robin eventually realized were mixed fruits and chunks of chicken breast out of her box.

"And that brings us up to now." Fado concluded his explanation and swallowed a forkful of herb-crusted lamb.

"Wow," Anna remarked, "No wonder it's been such a long day. Good thing you guys have me or you'd have starved to death."

"Tell me about it," Fado said, patting his stomach.

"And hey, nice work, newbie," Anna continued, giving her coworker a playful glance across the table, "Sounds like you're doing the office proud."

"Er, thanks," said Robin. This was the first time he could recall her complimenting him since he started working for Fado's firm.

"I guess you're not a total screw-up after all," she said between her teeth.

That was more what he had been expecting. Perhaps she was trying to act a bit more civil with the client sitting so close. Said client was deeply engrossed in a flaky spanakopita and unable to hear the jeer.

"Did you come all the way down here just to bring us lunch, Anna?" Robin asked, "Not that I don't appreciate it, but you're usually too busy for things like that."

"When the boss man calls, you pick up the phone," she said matter-of-factly, gesturing with her open palm to Fado, "He's the one that signs my paychecks, so if he wants me to grab him some lunch, I'll get him some lunch."

"I thought a little food and a familiar face might give you a little extra confidence boost before things get too serious," said Fado, smiling at his protégé.

"This is a delightful meal," Pelleas interjected, swallowing, "thank you for your consideration, Mr. Verlaine. And for your graciousness in bringing it to us, Ms. Vendise."

"Aw, no worries," Anna replied, giving the blue-haired man her biggest grin. She certainly wasn't shy about accepting praise.

"It's germane to our objective to have everyone in top condition," Fado continued, "Just make sure you digest everything well before we head into the courtroom. I've made that mistake enough times…"

"What was that, sir?" asked Robin, "You trailed off."

"Nothing, lad. Keep your chin up, and be ready for whatever's coming, all right? You know you have my full support in there."

"And mine, of course," Pelleas added.

Anna was about to eat another piece of chicken before she got a gentle nudge from her boss. "O-Oh, uh, yeah… Go get 'em."

While Anna was no help, to know that Fado and Pelleas acknowledged his ability did indeed give Robin a surge of confidence he hadn't quite been expecting. He now felt prepared to go and face whatever lie in the courtroom. He was ready to face the mystery witness, finally liberate his client, and return to the office a full-fledged lawyer. At last, he could be redeemed. The next chapter in his life all hinged on the next few hours.

[Turnabout Collapse ~ Trial Latter—end]