A/N: Another chapter! This is where the game picks up! Apollo's debut in court! This'll be fun, hehe.
Starting here, I'm going to put the month the chapter happens right under the chapter title. Also, I split this chapter into two, because I was hitting 12,000 words, so… This is the trial former, heh.
Review Reply to Guest: I'm glad you're enjoying it! I know the pacing was fast. I wanted just show snapshots of Apollo's life before the game, but you're probably right. I could have slowed down a few chapters, like the college one. I didn't really think about it while I was writing it, heh. Thank you for the advice though! I hope you enjoy this chapter!
Well, here we go!
…
Chapter 12.1: The Wright Anything Agency
April
I paced around Defendant Lobby three, going over the very limited evidence I had in my head while I shuffled a deck of cards. The shuffling helped me focus.
Today was my first day in court. And I would be defending my dad, of all people. My dad, who, by the way, wasn't even here yet.
Needless to say, I was panicking. My palms were sweaty and my heart was going a mile a minute. I was nervous.
"Ah, good morning!" Mr. Gavin, my temporary mentor, said, entering the room and making me jump.
"G-good morning, sir!" I said, stopping in my pacing and fidgeting with my bracelet. And my tie. And my hair.
"You look tense, Apollo. Wound up tight," he observed with a smile.
"W-wound up, sir?" I stuttered. "No! I'm loose! I'm fine!"
"That screeching noise… is that your voice?" he asked, and I winced to realize my voice was raspy. "I suppose it's to be expected… Your first trial, and it's a homicide. One your father was accused of, none the less. I guess a Wright attorney never starts small, eh?" he asked, that grin on his face again.
"I-I'm fine!" I protested. "I got up at 5 AM to do my 'Chords of Steel' voice workout! I'm fine!" I boasted, referring to an exercise Clay and I started in college, not only to exercise our voices, as the name refers to, but also to psych ourselves up and mentally prepare.
I felt like I needed a few more hours of Chords of Steel though…
"Ah, that explains it," Mr. Gavin said with a smirk. "I did detect a certain rasping quality to your screech."
I coughed slightly, realizing he was right. Me and Clay really need to come up with something new to psych ourselves up… I thought.
Mr. Gavin shook his head at me with another smile. "So, Apollo, did you see anything at all that night? You stayed later then I."
"No, sir. I stayed upstairs the entire time… well… until we discovered the body," I sighed, pushing my personal feelings about the victim aside for now. I couldn't afford for my thoughts to be clouded.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Yes. Yes sir. I'm fine!"
"One more thing. Don't say you're fine quite so much. People might take you the wrong way," he implied, and my face grew hot slightly as I understood his meaning.
"I'll be preparing our case," Mr. Gavin said, glancing over my shoulder. "You might want to go say hi to your father."
I looked over my shoulder to see Dad standing next to the door, watching our conversation. As I walked over, I noticed he was wearing something new.
A locket, around his neck.
Where the heck did that come from? I thought, giving him a weak smile.
"M-morning, Dad, I said with a weak smile. My nervousness was acting up again.
"G'morning, kiddo," he said, with a smile. "It's all up to you today."
I bit my lip nervously, not knowing how to respond, and Dad glanced to the side, a vaguely nervous look in his eye as well.
"So…" he began, looking back at me.
"Fine!" I yelped. "I'm fine!"
"Ah… Mr. Fine, is it?" he asked, barely containing a grin, and I knew I opened myself to that teasing.
"Daaaaaaaaaad…" I groaned, before sighing, getting serious. Doubt suddenly plagued me.
"I know I said I wanted to take your defense, but… are you okay with it, Dad? You and I both know Mr. Gavin's top notch, and… well… wouldn't you feel more comfortable with him?" I asked. Dad shook his head, putting a hand on my shoulder.
"Apollo, I want you, and I know you'll do good," he said sincerely.
"But… I don't feel ready," I muttered.
"You are. Besides, it has to be you."
"Why?" I asked. Dad glanced to the side, and I noticed his eyes slide over towards where Mr. Gavin was looking through a file.
"You'll see," he said, giving my shoulder a squeeze. "You can do it, Apollo. Be confident."
"R-right. Confident…" I repeated with a soft sigh.
"It's time," Dad said. "Shall we?"
"Y-yes," I stammered, and the three of us entered the courtroom.
First trial: Nervous. Actually entering the courtroom: Cardiac Arrest… I thought, looking around the room as Mr. Gavin and I made our way over to the Defense's Bench. They made Dad wait in the lobby while we talked to the judge first. Alright. I need to focus, I thought as the people poured into the gallery. Finally, I turned my attention to the man across the room, behind the Prosecutor's bench. He wore a green-yellow suite and thick rimmed sun glasses. He was old, shown by the bald top of his head with hair hanging down on either side, to his shoulders.
The judge slammed his gavel (yes, I actually know what it's called now). "The court is now in session," he said, and I was surprised to see it was the same judge who had presided over Zak's case.
How old is he?
"The prosecution is ready, Your Honor," the man across the room said.
"Uh, the defense is, uh, fine! I mean ready, Your Honor!" I announced.
I love the taste of foot in the morning… I thought embarrassedly. Mind going blank… Don't panic… Ack, too late! I could just feel the sweat pouring down my face.
"You name was… Mr. Wright?" the judge asked, before peering at me closer. "Surely, no relation to Mr. Phoenix Wright?"
"Uh… yes, your honor. He um… he's my father…" I said. A look of surprise crossed his face before he nodded, looking at his notes again.
"And this is your first trial?" he asked.
"Y-yes, your honor! But I'm fine! Really!" I announced, before belatedly remembering Mr. Gavin's warning.
Ack!
"Are you quite sure? Your voice sounds a bit strained," the judge asked, seeming concerned. Another soft cough fought its way out of my throat, and I found myself sweating again.
"Ahem. Mr. Gavin?" the judge asked, looking at the man who stood to the right of me.
"…Yes, Your Honor?" he asked, his arms held calmly behind his back.
"Why is it not you who is heading up this case, while Mr. Wright observes?" he asked.
"That was my original intention. However… A defense attorney must always cede to his client's wishes. And my client specifically requested that I allow Mr. Wright to take the head, while I guide him through," he explained.
"Well, of course he wants this to go right! But to entrust his case to this greenhorn…"
Ouch.
"Why?" the judge finished. "I do not exaggerate when I say that you're the best defense attorney in town, Mr. Gavin."
Okay, so Gavin's got trial experience, fine. But does he have Chords of Steel!? I mentally demanded, psyching myself up again. The judge slammed his gavel once more.
"Then let's begin. The defendant may enter the courtroom," he announced. Dad strolled in comfortably, like he's been in this position before (Oh… wait…) and stood at the stand, taking everything in. The judge shook his head.
"This is truly an unfortunate turn of events," he began, studying the man before him. "I'm sorry we had to meet again under these circumstances. Long time no see, Mr. Wright," he said.
"Let's put the past behind us, shall we?" Dad asked, looking down and away, a sad smile on his face. "These days, I'm merely Phoenix Wright, piano player." He looked up at the judge again with a smile.
A bad one at that, I thought with a tiny smile.
"I won't speak of it further then," the judge said with a small nod.
"It the prosecution would be so kind as to explain the charges, Mr. Payne?" he asked, looking over at the man.
"To think, I saw you enter this room a fresh attorney, and now I'll see you leave in chains," Mr. Payne said with a smirk. I shook my head at the confident man, thankful I wasn't that full of myself.
"Ah, Winston Payne. Subtle as ever, I see," Dad said with a smile, almost like he was enjoying the proceedings so far. Mr. Payne simply smiled, before growing serious, clearing his throat.
"The crime occurred at the Borscht Bowl Club… a Russian restaurant. The defendant, Phoenix Wright, took the victim, a customer… and he hit him! Wham! On the head! Smack! Killed him cold!" he explained. I clenched my teeth at the imagery and sound effects, but managed to keep my silence.
"Hmm… A customer at the restaurant, you say?" the Judge asked. "And the defendant, you say he was…?"
"The pianist for the club, it seems," Payne supplied.
"Phoenix Wright… A pianist?" the judge asked. I glanced over to where Dad was looking away. I recognized his expression as a the carefully constructed one to cover his sarcastic thoughts. Or to play dumb. Whichever the situation called for.
I would bet money that it was to cover his thoughts in this case.
"This is the weapon that took the victim's life," Payne said, holding up an empty grape juice bottle. "A bottle of grape juice. Grape juice is apparently our defendant's drink of choice."
"The court accepts the deadly bottle as evidence," the judge said.
Deadly. Right.
"A thing to note, Apollo," Mr. Gavin started. "Make sure to keep record of any and all evidence in your Court Record," he said, glancing down at the book that was my personal Court Record. "Evidence is your greatest weapon in court. Don't let is slip away, and be sure to check it often."
"Yes, sir," I said with a determined nod, quickly making note of the 'deadly' bottle. Mr. Gavin smiled warmly at me.
"I'm confident in your ability to handle this," he said.
Right. Evidence and the Court Record. Sounds like it's time for some hands-on action! I thought to myself.
"So, the victim was a customer at this restaurant," the judge concluded, before the victim's picture showed up on the monitor. I bit my tongue against my angry reaction. "But just who is this, erm, 'Shadi Smith' fellow?"
Subtle, Zak. Real subtle. Stop it, Apollo. You need to focus!
"We believe he was a traveler, Your Honor," Payne answered.
"A… traveler?" the Judge asked.
"According to his passport, he had been out of the country for a number of years," Payne explained.
With a false identity, to boot, if he had a passport.
"He had only returned to this country recently, though his place of residence in unclear," Payne said.
"And he had some sort of connection with the defendant?" the Judge asked.
I opened my mouth to answer, a yes on the tip of my tongue, when I realized that Dad wasn't speaking up at all. He was staying silent about Zak's real identity.
"…That, too, is unclear at present, You Honor," Payne said, and my chance to answer slipped away. "We believe they first met at the Borsht Bowl Club on the night of the crime."
"If they had just met, then why murder?" the judge asked. "Perhaps the victim slighted the defendant's piano playing?"
"That doesn't appear to have been the case," Payne replied, before smirking. "No, the motive had nothing to do with the defendant's lack of playing skill. At least not piano playing. I'll let this photo explain what I mean," he said, before a picture appeared on screen.
It was a black and white picture of the crime scene. Cards and poker chips were scattered all over the table and floor, and Zak was laying back in the chair, his head tipped back.
Something seemed… off about the picture when compared to my memory of the scene, but I just… couldn't place it.
"As we can see, a game of poker was in progress at the scene of the crime," Payne explained.
"Wait a second!" the judge thundered. "Isn't poker gambling?" he demanded.
Wow. How long did it take you to figure that one out? I thought, a sweat drop running down the side of my face.
"That's a crime in and of itself!"
The gallery erupted into talking at this announcement, but Dad remained calmed.
"Indeed. It appears our defendant… has fallen to become the basest sort of criminal!" Payne announced.
"Objection!" Mr. Gavin yelled before I had a chance. "It is true that the defendant was engaged in a game of poker with the victim. Yet it was only that: a game, in the purest sense. A competition, Your Honor."
"A… competition?" Payne asked.
"Yes, a test of wits, a silent clash of passions… Only the cards, their backs wreathed in blue flame, know its final outcome," Gavin poetically put it.
"Er… come again?" the Judge asked.
"The cards on the table had blue backs, Your Honor," Payne said. I quickly jotted that down in my Court Record, sensing it was important. "I believe the defense was waxing poetic in an attempt to mystify those present…" Payne shook his head. "…And impress women."
"Wh-what!?" I spluttered softly, blushing.
"That will be our first order of business here then: To find out more about this fatal game of cards," the judge said. I took a deep breath, mentally preparing myself. Dad simply looked away from everyone, seeming lost in thought, until the Judge slammed his gavel. "Very well, Defendant. You will testify to the court about the power competition held the night of the crime," he said.
"My pleasure," Dad said with a smile. I smiled slightly at that.
This is it, my first trial! Here goes nothing! If Dad didn't kill him, he wont lie, and there will be no contradictions. I got this! I thought, my confidence levels rising.
"I am a pianist by trade… yet I can hardly play at all," Dad began, and I had to stop myself from laughing. "My real job is to take on interested customers over at the poker table. The room where we play and the competition in there are the club's main attractions. The rules are simple: we play a game of poker using two decks of cards. That's all it is… a game. And our customers are happy," he explained.
"…Hmm… A pianist who can't play piano?" The judge asked.
"Better than a defense attorney who can't defend," Payne quipped. I don't know if he was talking about me or Dad, but I know I bristled at the comment. Mr. Gavin put a hand on my shoulder to keep me from launching myself across the room at the smug man.
The judge hesitated, waiting until a calmed down, before nodding. "Very well. The defense may begin the cross-examination," he said.
"R-right, your honor!" I called. My first cross-examination! Don't blow it!
"Are you alright?" Mr. Gavin asked. "You're sweating bullets."
My panic got the better of me. "Bullets…!? Where!?" I gasped.
"It's a figure of speech, Apollo," he said, laughter in his voice. "Your voice sounds strained and raspy, too."
"My brain feels strained and raspy, sir," I admitted.
"You must have seem many cross-examinations while in school. Though you've never done one yourself, have you?" he asked. I nodded. "Care for a refresher?"
Should I? I remember the basics of pressing and presenting. Besides, I didn't hear anything contradictory in his testimony just now. I should be fine!
"No need for help here, sir! I think I've got this one covered!" I said brightly with a grin, confident in my abilities.
"I think you'd better do more than think. You know it, or you do not," Gavin said, and I deflated slightly. I then took another deep breath.
I'm fine! The Chords of Steel are ready for battle!
"Find any inconsistencies, any lies in the testimony, and reveal them to the court," Gavin reminded me. "That is cross-examination. Learn it. Know it. Do it."
'Inconsistencies'? 'Lies'? Dad…? No, not about this. Dad didn't kill Za—Mr. Smith. He wouldn't lie about this either… other then the victim's identity… but still! It's up to me to prove it!
"So, you can hardly play the piano?" I asked, my finger to my forehead in thought.
"Oh, I play sometimes. When customers demand it," Dad said with that playing dumb/hiding sarcastic thoughts look. "So I play them one song." He turned back to me with a grin. "That's usually all they want."
Wow Dad. Just… stop boasting. Please.
"The title of 'pianist' is a mask – a respectable face I wear for the world at large," Dad explained to the court.
"Then why are you really at the Borscht Bowl Club?" the Judge asked.
"Poker," Dad answered. "As I said, I take on interested customer at the poker table."
"They pay you just to play poker?" I asked. Dad gave me a slightly pained expression, since I shoulder already know the answer (yes, they do), but knew I was asking for the sake of the court.
"That would seem to be the case. I am a professional, after all," he said.
Very, very true. Even if you had Truce and I help you every now and again, I thought.
"Bah! Do I detect pride in that statement?" Payne demanded. "It's just hard for an honest, hard-working member of society like me to imagine…"
"Yes. Your imagination was always a bit limited, Winston," Dad said, looking away with that same, sad smile he always got when he thought of his time as an attorney. I coughed slightly in an attempt to cover my laughter.
"Wh-what!?" Payne demanded, sweating.
"I've played poker for seven years in that little room. "And I've never. Lost. Once," He looked up with a proud smile. I nodded slightly, already knowing that. "You see why the customers come now? 'Defeat the undefeated poker champion'… It's quite a draw," he explained, before smirking again. "That is, I'm quite a draw."
Aaaaaaand… he's boasting again, I thought, sweat slipping down the side of my face.
"Wait! You've never lost? Not once?" The judge asked in surprise.
"As I said, I'm a professional," Dad said with a smile.
"So… not only are you a, um… 'draw,'" I said, shaking my head slightly. "But you also stated in your testimony that the room in the crime scene photo… is also an attraction?" I asked.
"It has quite a history, actually," Dad said. "The Borscht Bowl Club used to be a gathering spot for black market types back in the day," he explained, and I had to suppress a sigh.
Yes, I know. The bartender tells me and Trucy every time we go, I thought.
"B-black market!?" the judge gasped.
"All in the past. Things like the black market are only on the silver screen nowadays," Dad said. "Suffice it to say that there were a lot of deals being made under the table. Right there, in that room," he said, motioning to the monitor, where the crime scene photo was still displayed.
"A smoky room, gambling hoods. You know… Just looking at this picture makes me feel 'bad'!" the Judge exclaimed, and this time, a sigh did escape me.
"The bosses gather around the table, cutting deals, safe from the eyes of the law…" Dad said, seeming to enjoy himself with the judge's reactions. "Meanwhile, a good keeps watch through the small window… I can practically picture it now."
"Hmm…" I hummed, looking at the window Dad had pointed out. That window does look like it would be good for keeping a look-out, but little else…
"The room has a few other tricks to it… though it was common knowledge to our regulars."
Like the secret passage, I thought with a small smile.
"At any rate, they came to play poker in a room steeped in history. Despite the dark past, it was all just good, clean fun," Dad concluded.
"So," I began, moving on to my next question. "You would play poker using two decks of cards?" I asked.
"A simple measure to prevent cheating. After all, Apollo, you know how some people are just good with slight of hand when it comes to cards," he said with a grin at me. I chuckled weakly at that, knowing that was a shot at me for the few times when Dad would play cards with me and Trucy when we were younger. I hated loosing, and I was good at card magic. It wasn't too hard to connect the dots of what happened during almost every game. "If you alternate two decks, no one can slip in cards," Dad added.
The judge nodded. "There's something else I noticed…" he said. "In addition to the cards on the table, there are some lying scattered on the floor," he pointed out in the crime scene photo.
"Precisely. Cards on the table, cards upon the floor… Each one forming a complete deck. A crime scene painted blue by a sad sweep of cards…" Mr. Gavin said. I nodded, though something felt… off about his statement. "It's poetic, really."
"Incidentally, we used two types of cards at the club," Dad continued. One deck of cards was red. The other blue."
"Hm… as I recall, in poker you make five-card 'hands,'" the judge said. "I can see how it would be easy to cheat."
Especially if you were a magician, I thought, one of my hands reaching into my pocket, where my own deck of cards sat.
"Heh… yes. A game of 'hands'," Dad mumbled, and I looked at him curiously. The judge slammed his gavel.
"This competition you're talking about… I believe the court understands the nature of the game sufficiently," he said.
"Th-that's right!" I said, feeling the need to say something here. "It was a simple game, after all!"
The judge shook his head. "Are you sure?" he asked.
"Huh?" I asked, taken off guard.
"People are not murdered over 'simple games', Mr. Wright," he said, before turning to Dad. "Defendant. You were in the room the very moment that the crime occurred… Yet you claim no connection to the crime?" he asked.
Dad was silent for a moment, looking down an away. "Now that's strange," he said.
"What's strange?" the judge asked.
"I was testifying about the competition that night," he reminded the court. "Asking me about the crime at this point is against the rules, You Honor," he said, looking up at the man with a small smile. He then looked in my direction. "Of course, I expected to hear a cry of 'Objection!' from the defense…" he said lightly, and I gasped at that in shock.
Argh! I completely let that one slip by! I thought angrily at myself. Sorry, Dad…
"Don't despair yet, Apollo," Gavin said.
"S-sir?" I asked, looking over at him.
"Wright. There's something I'd like made clear," he said, looking over at Dad. I followed his gaze. "Namely, your connection to the case at hand. And I'd like to hear it from you," he said.
"Sure, why not?" Dad said offhandedly. My stomach rolled at the sudden bad feeling I was getting.
I should have eaten something…
The judge slammed his gavel. Very well. The defendant will amend his testimony," the judge said.
Just a little pressure, and I've got myself a whole new testimony! Hopefully this bad feeling is nothing…
"I plead silence regarding the murder," Dad began, and it felt like a rug was ripped out from beneath me.
WHAT!?
"But I will say I never touched the murder weapon," he finished.
Why would you… the court record… I pulled my notebook towards me and studied the notes I had on the murder weapon.
"Objection!" I yelled, before sighing. "So you say you didn't touch the murder weapon… this grape juice bottle?" I asked as a picture of it appeared on the monitor, covering up the crime scene photo. "Right?"
"So I said," Dad said, not looking at me. I ground my teeth together.
Why are you doing this!?
"Something the matter, Mr. Wright?" the judge asked.
"Hee hee hee…" Payne started laughing, before flipping his hair. "Too bad our new defense attorney never learned how to play dumb!" he said.
"What's this, Mr. Payne?" the Judge asked.
"I examined the bottle in question, you see," Payne explained. "And it was covered with the defendant's fingerprints!"
The gallery erupted into muttering, but I could hardly hear them over the roaring in my ears.
Dad – Phoenix Wright – had detested liars in court. He'd pick apart each detail in every testimony until the truth came to light.
But now… he was lying.. and pleading silent on the murder. But why!? Did he… did he actually… no… no, he couldn't have. Besides, if he had, he'd be too smart to lie about the murder weapon… right? There has to be another explanation here… I hope…
"OBJECTION!" I bellowed.
"No need to shout, Mr. Wright!" the judge gasped. "I can hear you just fine!"
A blush flared across my cheeks, and I gave an embarrassed chuckle.
"Excess yelling can damage to judge's ears…" Mr. Gavin said, before looking over at me with a smile. "And our case."
B-but what about my Chords of Steel…?
"Any… anyway!" I said, slamming my fists on the bench, before pointing at the prosecutor. "What's so strange about fingerprints on a bottle in a restaurant?" I demanded.
"Well, that's true. The prints alone don't prove he—" the judge began.
"Objection!" Payne yelled, cutting him off. "Oh, they wouldn't prove a thing… if they were normal fingerprints!" he said with a smirk.
"…Huh!?" I demanded.
"But the fingerprints on the murder weapon were upside-down!" he said.
"'Upside-down?' What does that mean?" the judge asked.
"It means he was holding the bottle inverted! And there can be only one reason for that!" Payne said. I crossed my arms in thought, thinking about that.
There could have been another reason why Dad's fingerprints were on the bottle upside down… but I couldn't place the reason just yet.
"…Yes. To brain someone with the bottle!" he said. I clenched my teeth, my hands tightening into fists, the court erupting into chattering.
"You seem upset, Apollo. I see no problem, though," Gavin said with a smile at me.
"Huh?" I asked.
"The only thing that matters is the truth. There's a good reason for everything. You'll see," Gavin said. I took a deep breath and nodded.
"You're right," I said.
"Defendant!" the Judge said, looking at Dad. "Can you explain your fingerprints on this bottle to the court!?"
Dad looked up with a small smile. "I stand by my plea of silence regarding the murder… for now," he said, and I ground my teeth together.
WHY!? I demanded silently. He caught my eye, then looked away, and I knew he knew that I was frustrated with him.
"Hmm… not very cooperative, are you?" the judge asked with a frown, and I knew Dad's actions were hurting our case.
"I'm sure he's uncooperative because he's hiding something!" Payne said excitedly. "There must be some reason…"
"Objection!" Mr. Gavin yelled. "Your Honor. You seem to have forgotten something," he said.
"And what might that be, Mr. Gavin?" the judge asked, and I realized the answer.
"On the night of the crime, who reported the murder to the police?" I demanded.
"Reported?" the judge asked.
"Well, that was the defendant, Mr. Wright. But still, that…" Payne trailed off, his face coated in sweat.
"R-really!?" the judge gasped. I sighed softly.
So it's not that he forgot, just that he never knew…
"Erm, yes, well. According to the case file…" Payne mumbled, before sighing. "The murder was reported from near the scene, by a call from the defendant's cell phone," he said.
"'Near' the scene…?" the judge asked.
"Yes, Your Honor. The Hydeout, where the victim was murdered, is situated in the basement of the Borsht Bowl Club, two floors down from ground level, meaning there is no phone service down there. My client was forced to leave the scene so that he could make that call," I explained, knowing from experience.
"Let's take a look at the diagram, shall we?" Payne said, a map of the Hydeout was brought up onto the monitor, a human figure sitting in the chair furthest from the door, facing the table. "This is the room where the murder took place, as well as the hallway just outside of it. This represents the victim," he said, using a laser pointer to motion to the human figure. "The defendant used the stairs in this hallway to go above ground…" he continued, motioning to the stairs. "The call came from the first floor of the restaurant."
"I see…" the judge mused, before having a picture of an old, blue beat up cell phone come onto the screen. "And this is the phone that made the call?" he asked. I quickly added that into my Court Record.
"The defendant could have just left the scene if he wanted to, and none would be the wiser. Yet, he called the police. So tell me," I said with a smirk, crossing my arms. "Just how is he being 'uncooperative'?"
Other then not telling us anything about the murder. What-so-ever. Daaaaaaaaaad… please work with me?
"Urk!" Payne gasped, sweating again.
"…I think the prosecution has toyed with our client enough for the time being," Mr. Gavin said.
"T-toyed? I assure you, no one is more serious about…" Payne started, sounding offended. Mr. Gavin didn't let him finish.
"What was it you said? The defendant was 'in the room the very moment that the crime occurred.' How can you possibly know this?" Mr. Gavin asked.
"That's a good question!" the judge gasped. "How indeed!"
"The answer is simple, Your Honor," Mr. Gavin said before looking at me with a smile. "The prosecution has a decisive witness."
Payne chuckled at those words. "You're as good as they say you are."
So someone else was in the room the night of the crime! That must mean they witnessed the crime…
"Everything up till now has been a warm-up, Apollo. Are you ready?" Mr. Gavin asked. I took a deep breath and gave a curt nod.
The judge slammed his gavel.
"Very well. The prosecution may call its first witness to the stand!" the judge announced. A young woman, who I recognized as the waitress from yesterday, came over. I studied her closer, realizing that I had never seen her before last night. Was that why Dad gave her a weird look?
"The witness will state her name and profession," Payne said.
"H-hold on just a moment!" the judge demanded. "Where's the witness?"
"I surmise that she has been frightened by the defenses demonic-looking horns," Payne said, and I ground my teeth together.
She was fine when she saw them yesterday! Besides, you're the one with the truly terrifying hairstyle, Skullet-Man…
"Have no fear!" the judge announced. "If any horns point in your direction, this court will cut them off."
I wish I had my hat…
The woman hesitated for a moment. "You… are sure?" she asked, her voice thick with a Russian accent.
"I swear it on my gavel! Please, come out," the judge said.
"Isn't violence against hair a crime, Your Honor?" I muttered, reaching up to fiddle with one of my spikes.
"Well, if you are sure it is okay…" the woman said softly, before standing up straight, no longer hiding behind the witness stand.
"Ahem. Now, the prosecution…" the judge prompted, only for the woman to suddenly take a picture. "W-w-wait a minute!" he gasped. "Would the prosecution care to explain the witness's… erm… paraphernalia?" he demanded.
"Er… yes," Payne mumbled. "She is a professional, Your Honor. Those are merely the tools of her trade," Payne explained.
Bull. I'm calling bull on that. Why would a waitress need a camera!?
"And that would be…?" the judge asked.
"My name… is Olga Orly," the woman said. "I am employed as waitress in Borscht Bowl Club restaurant."
New hire, I guess…
"Then… why the camera?" the judge asked.
"Of course, it is my pride to serve borscht that is naming restaurant. But I also perform – how it is said? Other service," she explained.
WHOA there… That sounds dirty…
"I take it one of these other services is taking the customers' pictures?" the judge asked.
"Dah, dah. Like, for example… this one." On screen, a picture of Dad and Zak appeared. Dad was sitting on his piano bench, listening as Zak talked. I remember the scene well, though I didn't realize it had gotten caught on camera.
"Th-that's… the defendant!?" the judge exclaimed.
"Indeed," Payne said smugly. "On the night of the murder."
"Man in white hat… is one who has gone kaput," Olga said thoughtfully.
That's… one way of putting it…
"Indeed… That is the victim." The Judge shook his head. "This is quite a piece of evidence to casually drop into our laps!" the judge said.
"It is same way as I drop cold bowls of borscht on laps of customers… casually," Olga said, and I swear I caught a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
"Hmm… Then the court will casually accept this new evidence," the judge said, prompting me to make note of it in my court record.
"Now, witness," Payne started. "Where were you at the time of the murder?
"I was in room. The Hydeout, we call it," Olga said.
"That's right!" I gasped, remembering seeing her go with Dad and Zak, acting as their dealer. So there were three people in the room at the time of the crime… the victim, Zak, Dad, and… Oldga Orly, our witness! And if Dad isn't the killer, that means…!
"Very well, Witness! You will testify to the court about that night's events!" the Judge announced.
"Dah. That night, customer asked me to deal cards for game. It was cold… Both players played with hats on, dah. The victim, he plays whole time with his hand on locket at his neck. Then, last hand is done! But something terrible had happened, dah! The man flew at the victim, and is strangling him to death!" she said. My eyes narrowed. A locket? Like… the one Dad's wearing now? I thought, glancing over at Dad. He was playing dumb again. As for how the victim was killed…
"Hmm… Incidentally, who won the game?" the Judge asked.
"Isn't it obvious? The winner was the victim… Mr. Smith!" Payne replied.
"Objection!" I yelled before I thought about it. But with everyone looking at me, I knew I had to say something. "That ridiculous! Um… because… Because Mr. Wright can't lose!"
"Ahem. Apollo?" Mr. Gavin murmured. "Maybe you can come up with a more legitimate objection?"
"But he hadn't lost in seven years!" I protested, thought I knew it was foolish.
"Take it from me kid. It happens. I didn't lose a case my first seven years as a prosecutor, either. Incidentally."
I find that hard to believe…
"I have some evidence here." A colored picture appeared on screen of the table top, and it was clear that one side had more chips. "These are the poker chips as they lay the very moment of the crime. The hand and chips on this side belong to the defendant, Mr. Wright. Thos on the far side belonged to the victim, Mr. Smith."
"Chips… you say?" the Juge asked.
"Dah." I snorted softly at that. "I mean yes! Imagine that poker is war… Your hand is your army, and the chips are the spoils."
For someone who couldn't imagine Dad's "lifestyle," he sure knows a lot about poker… I thought.
"I-I know that. After all, in my youth I was known as… …the 'Poker Head of Courtroom No. 3!'
I think he means 'poker face'…
"Hm… looking at this picture… it does seem that most of the chips are on the victim's side of the table," the Judge mused. I shook my head, jotting it down, but wondering if that was actually that important. If only I could remember what the chips represented, but it's been too long since I sat in on a game…
"Very well. The defense may cross-examine the witness," the Judge said. I nodded, thinking through the testimony again. Almost immediately, one statement stood out to me.
"Ms. Orly, can you repeat you last statement?" I said. She frowned slightly in thought.
"'That man flew at victim, and is strangling him to death!'" she repeated.
"Objection!" I yelled, pulling out the autopsy report. "Oh really? 'Strangled,' you say? That's odd," I commented.
"Dah, normal customers only choke on borscht," Olga replied with a smile.
That's true… I thought with a soft sigh before shaking my head. "No, mean this report shows that the victim died from a blow to the head!" I announced, holding up the report. In turn, it showed up on the monitor. Olga gasped at that, and I slammed my fists on my bench. "Ms. Orly! Really now… did you witness the crime!?" I demanded. She whimpered, but didn't answer.
"Hm… Looking at the picture… it doesn't seem like he was hit. He's still wearing hi hat and everything…" the Judge mused as the crime scene photo showed up on the screen.
"Yes, it is a fact that he was hit, Your Honor. Here's a photo we took of the victim with his hat off during our investigation," Payne said, a new picture appearing. I shivered at it.
It was a close up of Zak's face, the hat gone. His face was frozen in a look of pain, and a dark splotch was in the middle of his forehead, seeming to fun back over his head. I jotted notes about it in my court record.
"Well, that's quite shocking, isn't it? This head certainly was hit," I judge gasped, I smirk, crossing my arms.
"B-but…! I have seen it happen! The defendant, he lung at victim, his neck…" she muttered, seeming confused.
Ph really, Ms. Orly? I think I've caught you in you own lie this time!
"…Apollo," Gavin said, claiming my attention. "I admire you enthusiasm, but perhaps you should think this through one more," he said. I could feel the confusion flash across my face, my eyebrows drawing together.
"Wh-what do you mean? I found a contradiction!" I argued.
"There's one thing in her testimony that… troubles me," Gavin admitted.
"Very well. I seems we should continue the cross-examination," the Judge announce, while I thought through everything. My eyes wondered back to Dad, before I looked down at the crime scene photo.
"Mr. Wright, would you care to explain what it is you're thinking so intensely about?" the Jude asked once I was silent a few moments.
"Recall the testimony, Your Honor… the victim played with 'his hand on locket at his neck,' I believe she said?" I recalled.
"I hope you aren't about to raise an objection to the witness's grammar!" Payne snapped. I rolled my eyes.
"No, but look at this photograph," I said, showing the close up of the victim. "Do you see a locket on the victim's neck?"
"Well done, Apollo. I'm impressed. I knew you'd be able to handle this," Gavin said. I sighed softly.
"Yeah, but that means… the defendant wasn't strangling the victim at all. He was taking his locket…" I looked at Dad again, spotting the locket.
"D-Defendant! What do you have to say to this?" the Judge demanded. Dad stayed quiet for a moment, and the Judge narrowed his eyes slightly. "Say…"
"Yes?" Dad asked.
"I just noticed this, but… you have something hanging around your neck, don't you?" he asked.
"Oh? You mean this?" Dad asked, reaching up and opening the locket and looking at the picture. "Yes, it's a locket… with a photograph inside. A photo… of my kids."
The one Zak had… I thought grimly.
"Mr. Wright! You're a father!?" the judge gasped.
"We confirmed it at the time of the arrest," Payne said, and a picture appeared on screen. It was one of me and Trucy, seven years ago, when she was eight, and I was fifteen. I blushed slightly at the hat and cloak, something I hadn't worn regularly since then. "The picture in the locket is indeed Mr. Wright's son and daughter. In fact," Payne smirked, flipping his hair. "It seems his son is following in his father's footsteps."
"Mr. Wright?" the judge gasped, looking at me, before a light bulb seemed to go on in his mind. "The defendant is your father?"
"Yes, your honor," I said with a nod, though my thoughts were on the locket. Why did Dad take it from the victim before the game was over? Did Zak push his buttons wrong, and Dad snapped, feeling like he didn't deserve to have a picture of us? That's… believable, I guess…
"Well now, if the results of this poker game led to the murder… Perhaps we should hear a bit more about the outcome of the game?" the Judge asked.
"Further testimony won't really be necessary. It's clear the defendant lost. Badly," Payne said. I scowled at him, before studying the picture of the table, thinking over everything I knew about the game. Perhaps Olga's testimony would fill in the holes of my memory.
"The game began with 3,500 point in chips for each man. House chips come in two size: small and large. The one who was winning… dah, it was victim!" She started. I grabbed my wrist as my bracelet tightened, but it was telling me something I already knew: Dad was winning that game. "For last hand, defendant play with all chips on table and lose. The moment loss was decided, defendant grabs bottle from table and…" she trailed off with a shiver. My bracelet continued to stay tight, and I knew: her entire testimony was a lie. I just… if I could remember the values of the chips…
"Indeed… Looking at this picture… it does seem to be a one-sided game," the judge said.
"As the court knows, poker was the defendant's life! Failure must have been a bitter pill to swallow!" Payne said.
"Ah, how many times have I heard these words: 'I done it in a fit of anger, Yer Honor, and now I regret what I done!' …A common tale, but true," the Judge said with a shake of his head. I quirked an eyebrow slightly.
Methinks the judge watches too many old court movies. Dad hasn't lost in seven years, and my bracelet was tight as can be. She was lying the whole time, but I need something to prove that. Well, here it goes…
"Ms. Orly, you said the game began with 3,500 points for each man. Are those the usual starting points? Or were any special rules used?" I asked.
"No, not special. Usual game, usual rules," Olga said.
"If each man began with 3,500 points, then the total would be… um… exactly six, no 7,000 points!" the judge said.
Please, this isn't calculus. It's not even long division! I thought, before looking at the picture again. So, all of these chips have to equal 7,000. But… how?
"Are the chips in this photo all that were used?" I asked as the picture of the table reappeared on screen.
"Da-dah! Of course!" Olga said. I narrowed my eyes slightly.
"Maybe you could explain a bit about these 'chips?'" I asked.
"Objection!" Payne's shrill voice shouted. "Poker chips are poker chips. They're not fish and chips, not a chip off the old block, not a motorcycle cop, not a—"
"Thanks," I said, cutting him off. Wha…? Nevermind, not important. I turned back to Olga. "What are these chips worth?" I asked.
"Points," she started. "Two types of chip: 100 points chip and 1,000 points chip," she explained.
"Apollo," Gavin said.
"Sir?"
"You seem very invested in that information, and I myself find it interesting," he said.
"Yes, sir, I think I can use it," I explained.
"I'd have it added to her testimony myself," Gavin hinted. I nodded.
"Well? Does the defense want the witness to add her testimony?" the Judge asked.
"Yes, I do think this deserves further scrutiny. Add it to the testimony!" I said, my eyes glued to the picture of the table, flickering between the two piles of chips. The pieces were quickly clicking into place now.
"Very well. Witness, if you would be so kind?" the judge said.
"D-Dah, Your Honor. One kind of chip is worth 100 points, other kind is worth 1,000. Two kinds in all," she explained. A slow smirk crossed my face.
"Objection!" I yelled. "You sure it was the victim who won? Absolutely sure?" I demanded. Olga gasped softly, looking surprised.
"Objection!" Payne yelled. "It seems our new attorney is a bit confused. A glance at the picture is enough to tell you who won! If you're notin kindergarten," he said with a smug glance at me. I didn't let it ruffle my feathers though. I knew I was right with this.
"Um… just for safety's sake, could you explain the problem to the court?" the judge asked.
"Of course, Your Honor," I said before motioning to the monitor where the picture was. "In this photo I see small chips and I see large chips. Tell me… which were worth 1,000 points?" I asked, looking at the prosecution.
"Why, the big ones of course! Duh!" he snapped. My smirk grew, and I crossed my arms.
"Oh, I thought so too… but then the totals don't add up."
"Th-the totals…?"
"Let's review what the witness told us: Each man started with 3,500 points in chips. And the combined total value of the ships were 7,000 points," I explained.
"Yes… if my calculations are correct! Let's see… three plus one, carry the five…" the Judge muttered.
"Um, they are, Your Honor," I said, before turning my attention back on Payne. "Now! Look at this photo that allegedly shows all the chips. If the big chips are worth 1,000 points, and the small ships are worth 100… and you add them up…" I said.
"How much is it!?" Payne demanded, and I looked at him for a moment.
Do it yourself… you aren't in kindergarten, are you? I had to bite my tongue before the words came out of my mouth. "10,600 points. The chips don't add up! This clearly contradicts the witness's testimony!" I pointed out.
"B-but why!? How could this be!?" Payne gasped.
"Exactly… Apollo. Now that you know the 'what,' you must determine the 'why.'" Gavin said. I nodded.
There's only one way to explain this contradiction! "Each man began the game with 3,500 points. If all the chips are indeed shown in this photograph… Then there can only be one answer," I said.
"Well, what is it?" the Judge asked.
Dad will get a kick out of this… "The value of the chips… was the other way around!"
"Wh-what!?" the prosecutor gasped.
"The small chips were worth 1,000 points, not the big ones!" I asserted
"Madness! Utter madness!" Payne gasped.
"Show me that photograph of the chips again!" the judge demanded, looking at the monitor. "There are six small chips… and ten large chips… why, that does make 7,000 points when you add them up!" he gasped. Dad caught my eye and smiled proudly at me, and I felt a warm glow in my chest.
"Excellent work, Apollo," Gavin said.
"Objection!" Payne yelled, his voice jumping an octave. "B-but wait! The value of the chips may be different, but that changes nothing!" he asserted.
"Indeed. The victim did have the larger number of chips still…" the judge said, studying the picture, before gasping in surprise as he realized something.
"…Exactly. If the small chips are 1,000 points, and the large chips are 100… Let's do a little math. Add up the points for each side of the table!" I said.
"Ah…" Payne gasped, before making a strangled sound.
"The victim, Mr. Smith, had 2,900 points, and the defendant had… 4,100 points!" the judge announced.
"Well now… it seems that Mr. Wright was winning that night after all!" I announced.
"That's… impossible!" Payne gasped.
"Which means your motive is gone, Prosecutor Payne," I said.
"NOOO!" Payne yelped.
"Now… Ms. Orly. You must have known the true value of the chips. Since you were there at the scene of the crime… weren't you?" I demanded. She simply bit her lip, hiding behind the witness stand. The courtroom erupted with surprised talking from the gallery.
"Order! Order! It appears our defendant has lost his 'motive.' And Mr. Wright's supposed defeat… never happened," the Judge concluded.
"Nnn…" Payne… said? I don't even know how to describe the noise coming from him.
"We must ask ourselves whether we can trust the witness's testimony at—" the Judge began, only to be cut off.
"Hold it!"
"E-excuse me? What is it, Ms. Orly?" the Judge asked, surprised.
"I… I did not want to be saying this, but… Actually, you see, erm…" she muttered.
"See what, Ms. Orly!? What do we see!?" Payne demanded, desperate to save his crumbling case.
"In the last hand, there was a cheat!" she announced.
"A ch-cheat? You… you don't mean… a trick!?" Payne asked.
"Wait, or do you mean… a scam!?" the Judge added.
They're all the same thing!
"Yes, there was cheat in last hand… that is why game ends with chips as they are!" Olga announced.
Great… just great… first we have lying and false identities… now cheating. Wouldn't put it past Zak though… I thought bitterly.
"Well, this case certainly has taken a turn… for the interesting!" Gavin said with a smile.
"Witness! You will please testify to the court! Tell us about this cheating in the final hand!" the Judge demanded.
"The last hand… both men had 'full house.' There is four of each card in deck, from ace to king. If you look at both men's hands, cheat is more obvious! The next moment, game becomes argument, dah! The defendant's trick was exposed! He took bottle in his hand… Poor Mr. Smith!" she said.
"OBJECTION!" I yelled, rage pulsing through me. "My father would never cheat at a game of poker!"
Everyone in the courtroom stared at me, and Gavin put a hand on my shoulder.
"Calm down, Apollo. You have to keep a clear head if you want to prove your father's innocence… and that he didn't cheat," he said, giving my shoulder a squeeze. I took a few deep breaths.
"Sorry," I muttered, before realizing something. She didn't mention this from the beginning… well now, maybe this trick is more of the magic variety. Time to reveal the trick behind this case!
The judge nodded before looking at his notes.
"Hm… a full house is a very high-scoring hand. Not easy to make, in my experience," he said.
"That alone is enough to suspect less-than-scrupulous tactics," Payne added. I ground my teeth together at what he was implying, but took a few deep breaths before I could have another outburst.
I need a clear head! I reminded myself.
"You can see each player's hand in this photo," Payne said as the picture of the table showed up on screen again.
Wow… they both have full houses!
"We forget, there's an easy way to make a full house… and go undefeated for seven years. You cheat," Payne said. My hands clenched into fists, but I continued to take deep breath.
I need a clear head to knock that damn smug look of his face! I reminded myself once more. Besides, if he were to have cheated, that still leaves one important question… Dad lost that hand. Who's ever heard of a professional con man losing when they cheat!?
I thought through her testimony. "It's common knowledge that a deck has four of each card," I mused, my hand slipping into my pocket and pulling out my own deck of cards. My hands automatically shuffled them while I thought.
"Dah. One spade, one diamond, one heart, and one club for each card," she said. "It is interesting fact that this number four comes from number of seasons!"
"Huh, you don't say," I muttered, still trying to think through the testimony.
"Ah, and did you know that the cards are numbered one to thirteen? Add all the cards in a deck and you get 364… a year!" the Judge added.
"Huh, you don't say," I repeated, now distracted though. They act like I've never seen a deck of cards, though I've probably seen cards more then any of them. Besides, isn't that a day short?
"That's why each deck has two jokers," Payne added. "They say the second joker stands for the leap year. Thus you have a perfect representation of the year… all in a deck of cards!"
"Huh, you don't say." We're going to be in this courtroom for a year if it keeps going like this! Focus, Apollo! "Ms. Orly! How is the cheat 'clear'? I demanded, remembering this part of her testimony.
"Dah, well… the defendant… he played a fifth ace!" she announced. I nearly dropped my cards.
"A f-fifth ace!?" I gasped.
"I still remember both hands very well. Mr. Smith's hand has three aces… and Mr. Wright's two," she said.
"Obviously, cheating was afoot! Or perhaps I should say… a hand!" Payne said, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes as I put my cards back in my pocket.
"Your Honor… Perhaps this can be added to the testimony? Without Payne's joke," Gavin requested, and I had to cough in order to cover my laughter at the look on the prosecutor's face.
"Very well. The witness will add this detail to her testimony, please," the Judge said.
"Mr. Smith's hand has three aces, and Mr. Wrights two… It is five aces in all," Olga said. I looked closer at the picture of the table, before smirking slightly.
"Objection!" I yelled. "It appears the witness is mistaken…"
"Miss… Taken? But my name…"
"Look," I said, pointing to the monitor as the picture of the table appeared on it. "This piece of evidence clearly contradicts what you said in your testimony!"
"That's… the photo of the chips, is it not?" the Judge asked uncertainly.
"Apollo, perhaps you ought to explain your point in a way that the judge can comprehend. In other words, use your finger to 'point' out your point!" Gavin said.
"Yes… Please point out the contradiction in this photo. What particular 'point' contradicts the witness's testimony?" the Judge asked. I smiled, pointing to the victim's cards.
"Ms. Orly, in your testimony, you made the following claim: 'Mr. Smith's hand has three aces'… But you can clearly see, the victim's hand only held two aces!" I announced!
"Eeek!" Olga squeaked.
"Objection!" Payne yelled. "Well… well maybe the witness was simply confused! Perhaps it was the defendant's hand that held the third ace in question…"
"Objection!" I shouted back. "Take another look at the evidence! As you can see, the defendant also held two aces in his hand. Where's this fifth ace? I see cheating alright," I slammed my fists down on the table before pointing at Olga. "And it's going on right here in this courtroom!"
"Two aces in each player's hand does make four aces total. Hardly proof of cheating…" the Judge agreed.
"Wait! Please! It is true… I have seen it! The fifth ace! There was cheating, I swear to you," Olga said. I rubbed my wrist, just below my bracelet, with a frown. It was feeling a little loose, actually.
That's odd… she must be lying, yet she's the most sincere I've seen her all day. And my bracelet isn't reacting…
"You're right to trust your instincts," Gavin said.
"Mr. Gavin?" I asked.
"Who knows what lies in store for us in the trial ahead… Your Honor, if I may. I have a suggestion…" he said, looking up at the bald man.
"What might that be, Mr. Gavin?" he asked.
"If you don't mind… perhaps we might examine the actual cards?"
"The cards…?" the judge asked.
"Mr. Payne." Gavin turned his piercing eyes on the prosecutor.
"Urk. Yes?" he asked, taken by surprise.
"The players' hands that night were set aside as evidence, were they not? The defense would like to request that the cards be shown to the court," he said.
With I could be that cool and commanding…
"Very well, the prosecution will submit this evidence! Which will you examine? The victim's cards… or the defendant's cards?" the Judge asked. I thought through everything so far.
It was the victim's hand that 'changed' over the course of the witness's testimony… "The defense requests time to examine Mr. …Smith's cards," I announced.
"Very well. Mr. Payne, if you would…" the Judge said as a bailiff walked over to the prosecution bench, collected the cards from him.
"…Very well," he said. The bailiff came over and gave me the five cards.
"Well, time's a wasting. Get to it, Apollo," Gavin said.
"Y-yes, sir!" I said, before putting on a pair of gloves and carefully pulling the cards out of the evidence bag. I inspected each card carefully, my trained eye looking for any trick that could have been used.
As I flipped one of the kings over, I froze. Amongst all of the red cards… was a blue one.
Wh-what!? "Your Honor! Look at this! One of the victim's cards… The back is a different color!" I announced.
"Eh…? Ehhhhh!?" Payne gasped.
"Th-that's impossible! But I put that card in Wright's hand… ack!" Olga gasped in a decidedly non-accented voice. My eyes narrowed as anger pulsed through me again, but Gavin was quicker on the draw.
"…What was that, Ms. Orly?"
"No… Nynyet! Er, I merely said, eh… Dah, I have, eek!"
"Your Honor?" Gavin said.
"M-Mr. Gavin, yes?" the Judge gasped.
"Tell me, what is the easiest way to cheat at poker?" Gavin said.
"To… cheat?" the Judge was lost.
"I'll tell you. One merely needs a friend, a 'comrade,' shall we say… the dealer!" Gavin announced.
"Ah… ah!"
"So you mean this witness… Ms. Orly…" I muttered.
"She's a cheater," Gavin said. "A professional, I'd wager."
Olga made a strangled noise, confirming what Gavin said, and the courtroom erupted.
"Order! Order!" the judge yelled.
Focus, Apollo. Time to take advantage of her! …I mean, of her mistake! I thought to myself, shaking my anger off for now. "Your Honor! Please recall the testimony we just heard!" I demanded. "Ms. Olga had said 'That's impossible! But I put that card in Wright's hand…' Ergo! Ms. Olga Orly conspired to cheat, not with my client… but with the victim!" I announced.
Olga groaned at that.
"Not only did she cheat, she cheated poorly! Therefore! It's not hard to imagine an altercation between her and the victim…" I reasoned out.
"Whaaaaaaaat!?" Payne gasped.
"Wait, you don't mean… The defense isn't accusing the witness, Ms. Olga Orly… are you?" the Judge demanded.
There were three people in the room at the time of the incident. And if Dad isn't guilty, that means… "…I am! The defense accuses the witness, Ms. Olga Orly, of murder!" I announced. Olga let out another squeak and fainted, and we were given a few minutes recess.
"…Mr. Payne. Where is your witness, Ms. Olga Orly?" the Judge asked once we reentered the courtroom.
"Erm, it appears she has lost, eh, consciousness, Your Honor," Payne admitted, glancing over at me.
"Hmm… Mr. Wright?" the Judge said, looking over at me.
"Your Honor!" I replied.
"It seems you've presented a new possibility to the court. One suggesting a connection between the witness and the victim, Mr. Smith," he said.
"And that means…?" I asked hopefully.
"The court cannot pronounce a verdict for the defendant at this time!" the Judge replied.
"Nnk…! What!?" Payne gasped.
I did it! I held out! I thought.
"I see no point in prolonging the trial this day. The persecution will need to make further inquires…
"Objection!"
"D-Dad…?"
"…You can't end the trial here, You Honor. Not yet," Dad said, stepping up to the witness stand.
"What nonsense is the defendant spewing now!?" Payne demanded.
"Think. One of the cards had a different colored back. Don't you wonder what it means?" Dad asked.
Not really. I was hoping to gather more evidence to save your uncooperative hide… I thought with a sigh.
"Objection!" Payne yelled in confusion. "Wh-what are you doing, Mr. Wright!? Raising objections right when you're about to get off the hook!? Ridiculous!"
"Mr. Payne, you of all people should know… Mr. Wright has a talent… for the ridiculous!" the Judge said, and Dad looked away. I could see the sarcasm gears spinning in his mind. "Perhaps we should get to the bottom of things. Let's clear up the facts about the game that fateful night."
"As was said before… we alternated between two decks of cards that night," Dad started.
"That was said before!" Payne snapped.
"The two decks at the club have different colored backs" Blue… and red. One color per deck," he continued as though Payne hadn't said anything.
"Why use different colored backs?" I asked for the sake of it.
"If we used the same color, the two decks might get mixed.
Um, you used different colors and they STILL got mixed up…
"We used the red deck for the last game," Dad said.
"Hmm… I see. But… that's odd. For some reason… I have this impression that you were using the blue cards!" the Judge said.
Yeah, me too… I realized. I'm sure someone said something about blue cards…
"Whatever. In the end one card of the wrong color got into the mix… which means there was cheating," Payne said.
"Yes, a card slipped into the deck would seem to indicate cheating…" Dad agreed. "Yet… this card raises two serious questions… Apollo?" he said with a smile at me.
"Yeah?"
"Let's considered the first question? Think. In the last game… when was the card swapped?" he said, laying it out, just like he used to when helping me with my school work. I thought it over, closing my eyes.
"That's a simple one, Mr. Wright," Payne snapped. "Of course it was swap—"
"Oh? It might be as simple as you thing, Mr. Payne," Dad interrupted him. "Or it might not be."
"Nnnk!"
"I'd like to hear what Apollo thinks first. When do you think the cards were swapped?" Dad asked. I thought through each of the possibilities before gasping, my eyes snapping open.
"It had to be after the murder!" I announced.
"Objection!" Payne yelled. "Wh-what's this? Ridiculous! What's the point of cheating after the hands have been shown? That's silly!"
"Objection!" I yelled back. "Think about it, Mr. Payne. Poker and magic aren't too different." I pulled my deck from my pocket, took out five cards, and fanned them out, like I was playing a game of cards myself. "Players watch their opponents' hands just as closely as an audience watches a magician's hands, vigilant for a trick, or cheating, in the case of poker. Now, even without watching closely," I passed my free hand, one that was palming the blue card, and easily and smoothly switched it with one of the red cards in my hand. To everyone else, it simply looked like I had changed the color of the back of my card. "Wouldn't you notice that difference right away?" There was a smattering of applause, and some gasps, and I smirked. "If you pulled that during a game of poker, you'd be caught in no time."
"Ah…" the Judge gasped.
"Quite true," Dad said as I put the blue card back in the evidence bag, and my deck back in my pocket. "That would mean the blue card in question… was swapped after the hands were shown, after the murder!"
"Objection!" Payne yelled. "I ask my question again: what's the point of cheating after the game's over!? Who would do that!?" he demanded.
"Who indeed," Dad mumbled. "That's one of the mysteries before us."
"Th-there's another?" the judge asked.
"Yes. A simple, yet decisive question must be asked: Who swapped the red card for the blue card?" Dad said.
"The game, and murder, is done. The victim is dead. Only two remain in the room. Alive, that is. The defendant, Phoenix Wright, and our witness, Olga Orly," Gavin said, rubbing his chin. I thought through everything.
"Well, the one who swapped the cards wasn't Mr. Wright, of course. And, well, it doesn't seem like it could have been Olga Orly, either…"
"Wh-what are you suggesting!?" the Judge demanded.
"That's hardly a logical conclusion, I'll admit. As the defense, I think it only makes sense for you to name Ms. Orly at this point," Gavin said.
"Yes, yes, I know! But… but she was the one who dealt the cards, right? I… I just can't believe she would make the mistake of swapping the wrong color card!" I explained.
"And if the card was swapped during the game, it'd be obvious…" the Judge mused.
Dad started chuckling.
I shook my head, knowing where this was going.
"Something you'd like to share with the court, Mr. Wright?" the Judge asked.
"Oh, my apologies, Your Honor. I was just thinking how much fun all this is," he said.
He misses standing in court…
"Objection!" Payne yelled. "Fun!? How about confusion!? I've no idea what the defense is claiming, Your Honor. If the one who swapped the card wasn't the defendant, and it wasn't Ms. Orly… Then who was it!?" Payne demanded.
"Er, yeah, well, that is the question, isn't it?" I admitted, unsure myself.
"Precisely, kiddo," Dad said.
"Huh?" I asked.
"I believe we're about to see this case take… a new direction," Dad said.
"A new direction?" the Judge asked.
"We'll find that, indeed, after the murder… someone swapped one of the cards in the victim's hand. And that someone made two critical mistakes," Dad said.
"I'm sure you're going to tell us that the first was swapping the wrong color card," Gavin said.
"Because the one who did the swap didn't know two colors of cards were being used. The other mistake… was the number on the card," Dad explained.
"Right… the person replaced the fifth ace with a king," I mused.
"I'm sure whoever swapped it wasn't expecting there to be a fifth ace, after all. All they new was the game had been won with a full house. So they picked up a king from the table, and swapped it in," Dad reasoned.
"Objection!"Payne yelled. "B-but! There's one problem… according to our case record this person doesn't exist!" he protested.
"True, not until now. But you have to admit the possibility of a fourth person. Though it's more than a possibility. There was someone else there that night at the scene of the crime," Dad said.
But I didn't see anyone else when I ran downstairs right after the murder. Then again, I didn't even notice Olga on the floor, so maybe my observations at that point aren't too reliable, I thought to myself.
"Wha-whaaaaat!?" Payne gasped.
"I believe the judge spoke truthfully earlier. You do make trials… ridiculous, Mr. Wright," Gavin said, and I frowned in his direction at the insult.
"This trial has proceeded on one central assumption: namely, that, at the time of the incident, there were only three people in that room," the judge mused.
"I believe this new evidence, shall we say… overturns that assumption?" Dad said brightly.
"The problem is that you chose to conceal this information from the court!" the judge snapped. Dad adopted that 'playing dumb' look, which was really starting to get on my nerves.
"…I supposed that is a problem, yes," he agreed. The Judge sighed in frustration.
"Court is adjourned for a brief recess! Mr. Gavin, I'll see you in my chambers during this recess," he said.
"…Certainly, Your Honor," Gavin said with a nod.
"Very well! The trial will resume in twenty minutes!" The Judge banged his gavel.
…
A/N: Whew… that was long. I was too ambitious for my own good. The next chapter will be part two of this one, the Trial Latter.
I really enjoyed writing Apollo doing a magic trick to prove a point, by the way. It was a lot of fun, hehe.
