A/N: Omg I accidentally uploaded a chapter of Alea Turnabout Est instead of this chapter at first. No one told me =x=
April 28, 4:45 PM, Wright Anything Agency
Wright and Jana returned to the law office to find that black-sweatered detective from the Kurain Village case sitting perched on the steps not far from the entrance, four-year-old case file in hand. In her other hand she had a cigarette, which she quickly snuffed out when Wright pointedly coughed.
"Salut M'sieur Wright," she said, looking up. Jana could have sworn she saw, before Detective Grantaire looked up, a perfectly blank expression instead of the usual open one sported by the frenchwoman.
"What brings you here, detective?" Wright said.
"I juste was picking up some old court records from a former colleague of yours," Detective Grantaire said. "Tu sais, the Ked Napp case."
"Ah, that one," Wright said, and stepped inside the office. Jana lingered outside.
"The Ked Napp case…" she said, "Ked Napp was the defendant in the L. A. Holmes trial, was he not? The one who was found innocent?"
"Ouias, of course," Detective Grantaire said, "sit down, mam'zelle. I found something très intéressant in this here."
Jana sat down wordlessly. She probably would have ignored Detective Grantaire if it hadn't been for last night.
Detective Grantaire pulled out a diagram - a map of Hiza Street, Lee Avenue, and the alleyway in between, where Alois had been kidnapped. "Four years ago," she said, "la victime finale of the serial kidnappings that been plaguing Los Angeles depuis dix ans was abducted in this alleyway." She pointed at a spot near the end of the alley close to Lee Avenue. "Et this is where the young witness to that final kidnapping saw almost the whole thing."
"Yes," Jana said. After all, she had been the one standing there four years ago.
Detective Grantaire slid her finger down the paper to the end of the alley close to Hiza Street. "Le témoin jeune gave the lépoux the plate number of the car. She knew the number so well it was like it had been burned into her mind. Ainsi, the lépoux concluded that the car the kidnapper was driving must have been right here, facing towards Hiza street."
"Yes, that is right," Jana said.
"Is it, though?" Detective Grantaire said, smiling at her. It seemed almost malicious. "I know, I know, mam'zelle. Ne touchez pas aux blessures guéries."
Jana waved a hand impatiently. "Continue," she said.
Detective Grantaire snapped the paper in her hand, and then indicated a space on the very edge of Hiza Street, perpendicular to the alley. "M'sieur Armando did some investigating while he was on the case. Naturellement, he visited the scene of the kidnapping. Mais, what should he find on the ground but leaked oil from the same car that le témoin jeune gave the license plate number of?" She tapped her finger. "There's une contradiction here. That little girl claimed to have seen the car driving down the alley towards Hiza Street, but the car was never in the alley, and was on Hiza Street the whole time."
"That is impossible," Jana said firmly.
"That is what the evidence says."
There was a frustrated pause.
"I have not heard of this contradiction," Jana said.
"Of course not, petite. Theyn't look into it in court, because the license plate number had led the lépoux directly to L. A. Holmes and Ked Napp. Even if it was impossible for le témoin to have seen the license plate, what did it matter? Her témoignage was accurate. They let the contradiction go."
"How… could they?" Jana said.
Detective Grantaire gave a little laugh that almost sounded like a sigh. "Mam'zelle, you don't know this yet, mais you will someday. You were taught there there was only une vérité - only one truth. But… that is false. There are many truths. Contradictions arise when these truths conflict with each other." She gave Jana a shadowed look. "What you do in court is merely finding out which truth is the strongest one - which vérité devours the others."
"And this?" Jana said.
"They weren't ready," Detective Grantaire said, "they weren't ready for the fangs this truth has."
April 28, 4:45 PM, Prosecutor's Building, Alois' office
The coroner's assistant had dropped off the autopsy report while Alois was out, but he had returned to his office to find it on his desk, and he was looking over it now. Everything was about how it had looked from the initial examination, except for one very important thing… a quarter found in the Jane Doe's abdominal cavity.
Not in one of her organs, as if she had swallowed it. It was in there like it had fallen in there, most likely during the moment of the murder. Naturally the quarter had immediately been handed over to forensics, since if it had fallen in there at the moment of the murder it probably fell from the murderer's pocket. If they were lucky, there would be fingerprints on it.
He flipped over to the other page. Forensics also had the clothes that the Jane Doe had been wearing when she was found. Hoffentlich they'll get that forensic report in to me before the end of the day today, Alois thought, glancing at the clock, so I can investigate tomorrow. I want to be able waschen meine Hände of this before the end of the week.
"Hey, kid," Detective Noir said, walking into his office with one of the Jane Doe posters in her hand, "we got an ID on the stiff."
"What?" Alois said sharply, looking up from the autopsy report.
Detective Noir raised an eyebrow. "Why're you so shocked?"
"Ah," Alois said, quickly covering his surprise, "usually it takes a little longer than this for the public to identify a victim, nein?"
Detective Noir frowned briefly - Alois would have to be an idiot to think she hadn't noticed his odd behavior during this case so far - then nodded. "More than a couple skid rogues peached us about this doll. Her name was Jantje, apparently. Hung around at the flophouse with the other bums sometimes."
"No last name?" Alois said.
"None given. Most everyone knew from dust about her. She just lammed in around July four years ago." She said that last part as though it were significant to her somehow, although Alois didn't get it. He didn't ask.
"Interessant," he said.
"By the way, the dicks over at forensics found two pretty hinky things on the dame's diapers. First, though, the quarter found in her had a pretty jake thumbprint on it that we can use to put the finger on the perp. I'm about to scram out for that joint near the dumpster where the stiff was found; figure I can find the wrong gee who zotzed her there. I got a good feeling about this one, boss."
"So you'll compare the fingerprints of everyone in the apartment complex to the one found on the quarter?" Alois said. Detective Noir nodded and handed him a warrant to sign. "What about what forensics found in ihre Kleidung?"
"There was a bit of blood that didn't belong to her."
"The killer's, you think?"
She was silent for half a moment before saying, "Yeah, that'd be kippy." She fished a small piece of paper in a plastic bag out of one of her trenchcoat's inner pockets and showed it to Alois. "This was the other thing."
Alois looked it at carefully. It was, as said before, a small slip of paper, curled slightly, with '6YJL401' written clearly on it. It must have been written by 'Jantje', because this was clearly Jana's handwriting… not that he could point that out. "Did the victim write this?" he asked anyway.
Detective Noir gave a noncommittal shrug. "It was found in a hidden pocket. Forensics almost missed it. Think this tomato might've been a grifter?"
"Ich glaube nicht…" Alois said, "this looks like a license plate number. Have you already run it?"
He didn't miss the way Detective Noir suddenly broke eye contact.
"Frau Detektivin Noir?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'll run it," she said, "might end up just being something from one of her marks. Just something gumming the works…" She caught Alois' glance, then bowed out quickly.
Alois blinked as his door slammed.
What was going on?
November 17 (2057), 8:30 AM, Wright Anything Agency, Roof
"Thought I might find you up here."
Jana glanced behind her. She scowled slightly at the sight of Misty, Phoenix Wright's other daughter who was one year older than Jana and seemingly hadn't smiled once in the past two years.
"Leave," Jana said stiffly, looking back out over the city. Some people on their way to work were buying breakfast from the third generation of Eldoon's Noodles to operate in this area.
Misty just stood behind her. Jana felt the prickling on the back of her neck that indicated Misty was staring at her. She had kind of an intense stare, something she'd inherited from her mother, everyone said.
"You shouldn't be trying to rewrite someone's past," she said.
Jana grunted.
"Do you know what kind of sacrifices you're going to have to make?"
"I refuse to accept this as the alpha timeline."
"It doesn't matter whether you accept it or not."
Jana stood up angrily, rounding on Misty. "Not accepting it is not the only thing I am doing," she snapped, "I will change what happened. I will bring an end to this before it brings an end to my brother's life."
Misty scrutinized her for a long while, then laughed. Jana was taken aback.
"Jana," she said, "we're a lot alike, aren't we?"
Jana's whip flew through the air; Misty caught it. They stood like that, Jana's hand tight on the handle, the striking end wrapped around Misty's hand, and the whip stretched taut between them, trembling in the late fall breeze.
"I am nothing like you," Jana whispered.
"You are," Misty said, "our brothers are lucky to have us."
Jana yanked her whip back hard enough that Misty took an unintentional step forward. "You sold yourself," Jana snarled, "to that witch, and to the Tula Group. I will never sink as low as you. I will do things my own way."
Misty just glared at her. Jana marched to the door that lead back into the building.
"There's one more thing they have against Miguel," Misty said as Jana wrenched open the door.
Jana stopped. "…what?"
"Alois' body was found lying against his door - although I'm sure you've seen the crime scene."
"…"
Misty's expression changed slightly, giving her a more shadowed look. Jana was reminded of the first time she'd met this version of Misty - she had been fourteen then, and by that point Alois had already known her for months. "He was killed by someone who was in his condo. They ruled out a break-in, too. It was someone he let in."
"…I see," said Jana, and then she descended the stairs into WAA.
April 28 (2054), 5:00 PM, Prosecutor's Building
For the third time that day, someone approached Miguel with the need to discuss something confidential with him. This time, though, it was Detective Noir, whom Miguel felt a little awkward around considering he hadn't had a full conversation with her since that case last December.
"Yeah?" he said, taking a sip of coffee. He had just been leaving for the day (since he was still waiting on the Soergei case) and Detective Noir had started walking next to him in the hallway. Her expression was unusually grave, not that Detective Noir didn't always have a serious, if somewhat self-assured, expression.
"It's about that case Alois is on," she said, "I think it's related to that snatcher case from four years ago."
"You're kidding."
"Wish I was."
"L. A. Holmes?"
Detective Noir nodded. She wasn't even looking at Miguel while she spoke, just watching where she was walking. She quickly described what forensics had found in 'Jantje's' clothes, then said, "I thought I made that plate number, so I ran it before I went to give Alois the low down. It was the murder house alright."
"And the blood?" Miguel said.
"Haven't tested it yet. You still got that carpet sample?"
"Of course," Miguel said, "it's still got another three years to go before it's considered a cold case. I'm still technically heading it up."
Detective Noir nodded again, more absently this time, then looked at Miguel. "Take over the Jantje case," she said.
"What?"
"Take over the Jantje case," she repeated, "sure, it's been all silk so far, but I don't trust Alois being high pillow of this one. Too much risk. Too much could go wrong."
"He could remember," Miguel said.
"Oh, he'll remember eventually anyway," Detective Noir said, "but not like this, Prosecutor Fey. Not like this."
September 1 (2047), 8:45 PM, Gavin Estate, Backyard
"We're going to get caught," Watson hissed.
"These were the coordinates I had," Ares hissed back, both irritated and defensive.
"It's not like they'll remember us anyway, if they see us," Misty E said from where she was squatting between the two of them. "What are we looking for here, anyway, Mrs. Justice?"
They were all looking through the window into the von Karma-Gavin's family room - they weren't noticed since the sun had set over an hour and a half ago - at Miguel Fey-Armando, age sixteen, junior at Themis Academy, and self-proclaimed greatest babysitter in the entire LA metropolitan area. Although he rarely, if ever, watched kids who weren't Alois and Jana, aged ten and eight, respectively. They adored him, though, so as far as their parents were concerned, it didn't matter.
"…why are we here, actually?" Watson said at length. How was she supposed to get blackmail from watching Miguel play video games with a pair of kids?
"Well," Ares said, "I was thinking about what we could possibly catch Miguel out on, and I thought about those rumors about him and Alois-"
"Alois is his co-worker," Watson said, "I know I used to give him grief over it, but you really can't blame him for not remembering he's a teenager."
"Well, I just thought, since it's not like Alois looks any older than he actually is…"
Misty E interjected. "Are you saying he's a…?"
"And what do we have here?" came a voice from behind them. Ares and Watson jumped. Misty E was facing the origin of the voice in a heartbeat, still crouched but muscles tensed now, ready to spring. Ares and Watson turned around, too.
"Miguel?!" Watson said in horror.
"What?" he said, with a sneer. "I'm Macario Armando. Don't forget it." But he did look like Miguel. Not the 16-year-old one in the von Karmas' living room, and not the one 23-year-old one in the prosecutors' office - this one looked like he was pushing thirty. He wasn't dressed in a vest and tie - rather, in a long-sleeved shirt and cargo pants - and he wasn't wearing a magatama, either. His normally flyaway hair was pulled back into a short ponytail, and he had stubble, and - strangest of all - only one eye, the other one apparently bisected by a thin scar that went all the way down the left side of his face and covered with a bright red eyepatch.
Ares caught Misty E's expression of shock.
"Who…?" Watson was saying in a small voice.
"The guy who's not going to let you bother the alpha alpha version of myself," he said, "now piss off."
"What does it matter what we're doing to the-" Watson was trying to argue as Misty E was grabbing hers and Are's wrists and pulling them up, face pale.
"The game's afoot," Macario said, making a gesture that very closely telegraphed his father when he was thinking, "and it seems all the trash ends up here."
"In the alpha timeline?" Ares said. Macario gave him a very penetrating look.
"You'd better go," he said, teeth bared. "And take your insane half-sister and your whore with you."
Neither Ares nor said insane half-sister had any time to protest before Misty E dragged them through a time door. A suddenly on-guard Miguel put down his controller and checked the window.
No one was there.
Meanwhile, in 2054, Watson, Ares, and Misty E were in the LA Central parking garage again.
"What- what was that?" Watson said, pressing one hand against her forehead.
"Macario Armando, didn't you hear him," Ares said.
"That doesn't answer my question," Watson snapped at him.
Misty E grabbed Watson's arm roughly, giving her a warning look. "I can tell you who he is," she said, "I know him. He's from my timeline."
"He is?" Watson and Ares said at the same time.
April 29 (2054), 6:10 AM, Gavin Estate
"Guten Morgen, Jana, Onkel Kristoph," Alois yawned as he drifted into the kitchen for some breakfast. Kristoph nodded at him over his newspaper. Jana mumbled a "Guten Morgen" back; she was poring over her court record as she ate her sausage.
On a case? Alois wondered, glancing over her shoulder as he passed her. Hmm… didn't look like her normal investigation notes.
"Learning Japanese, are you, kleine Schwester?" he said as he grabbed a plate.
"Hm?" Jana looked up. "What makes you say that?"
"The hirigana in your notebook, na sicher. Usually people learn the hirigana alphabet before katakana, and katakana before kanji."
"Mm."
Alois sat down across from her. "Just be careful, ja?"
"Careful of what?"
He rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "A lot of nihongo rookies think that, since Japanese is read right-to-left, that applies to horizontal text as well. But that's not how yokogaki works. What you have in your notebook should be read left-to-right, like English."
"I know," Jana said.
"When did you learn Japanese, Alois?" Kristoph said without looking up from his newspaper.
"Herr Blackquill," was the only explanation Alois gave. That was the only explanation that was needed.
"Jantje" is a Dutch variant of "Jana".
"Macario" is a (shockingly) Spanish name that means… ironically… happy/blessed. Are we gonna be seeing this guy again after this fic? Yes. Yes we are. (Please tell me y'all caught how one of his lines mimicked something Miguel said in Cool Cat Turnabout.)
Translations:
Salut (FR) Hi/Hello
juste (FR) just
Tu sais, (FR) You know, informal
Ouias, (FR) Yeah,
mam'zelle. (FR) miss. a shortening of "mademoiselle" which is used for young girls
très intéressant (FR) very interesting
la victime finale (FR) the final victim
depuis dix ans (FR) for ten years
Et (FR) And
Le témoin jeune (FR) The young witness
lépoux (FR) cops verlan slang
Ainsi, (FR) So,
Ne touchez pas aux blessures guéries. (FR) Don't open old scars. literally, Don't touch healed wounds.
Naturellement, (FR) Naturally,
Mais, (FR) But,
une contradiction (FR) a contradiction
petite. (FR) kid. literally, the feminine form of little
témoignage (FR) testimony
une vérité (FR) one truth
Hoffentlich (DE) Hopefully
waschen meine Hände (DE) to wash my hands
Interessant, (DE) Interesting,
ihre Kleidung? (DE) her clothes?
Ich glaube nicht… (DE) I don't think/believe so…
Guten Morgen, (DE) Good morning,
kleine Schwester? (DE) little sister?
na sicher. (DE) of course.
nihongo (JP) Japanese the language, not a Japanese person
