These questions that no honest man can answer,

Do murder my defenceless soul like a cancer;

For me, love and trust is a battered conception,

That's been slashed by these fragments of deception.

.'.

"You should probably look in the Records Room," Raoul advised a very irritated Klavier who was bent over the papers strewn across his desk as he tried to make sense of the reports left for him. He was supposed to be preparing for the State vs Gerard case but his mind was a scattered mess. He was thinking about Ema, Kristoph, Daryan and his mysterious saviour who had disappeared on him and then his mind was on Ema again. With all these thoughts and consequent emotions plaguing him, he was finding it difficult to focus on an already difficult case.

"I hate transferred malice charges," Klavier groaned. "And the doctor isn't making this any easier."

"How is the good doctor doing that?" Raoul asked idly.

"He keeps telling me there is no way to know if there has been some damage to the child." Klavier shook his head. "I know it to be a lie, of course. I have had dealings with this man before. He is a lazy Dummkopf."

"So, threaten to have him arrested for obstruction of justice or something," Raoul said dismissively while examining his fingernails. Klavier had gotten used to the man's narcissism but at times like these when he was already annoyed, Raoul's behaviour only served to aggravate him further. "Anyway, you're already prosecutin' the dude for murder, why you killin' yourself over this?"

"Because I want to put him away for as long as possible!" Klavier snapped. "He is a madman and I wan — "

His rant was interrupted by a knock on the door and Raoul sighed in relief. He wasn't in the mood for a dose of the Klavier 'goodness'. The prosecutor stopped mid-sentence to call for the knocker to enter. And she did. Klavier's entire being began to tingle as Ema opened the door slightly, peeking in, before freezing upon seeing Raoul in the room. Klavier managed, with some difficulty, to take his mind off her luscious features long enough to notice her reaction to the Gavinners bassist. He watched (with some envy) her eyes skim over him (wishing she would do the same to him), from the haphazard shock of red hair curling at his neck to the jewellery in his ears, fingers and wrapped around his wrists. The critical look in her gaze as she saw the scarf falling across the tight, black blazer was nothing compared to the way her eyes widened when her examination extended to his lower half. His legs were resting on one of Klavier's speakers (much to his chagrin) and the look on her face when she saw the black leather pants he wore had Klavier smirking. He had been wanting to see her reaction to Raoul up close for some time and he was not disappointed. Klavier only wished he could hear her exact thoughts.

"Fräulein," he said, his lips twitching. "How might I help you?"

Her eyes snapped to him and stronger men than him would not have been able to prevent the wide smile that spread across his lips. When her gaze met his, a blush crept over the divine skin of her cheeks.

"I'll come back later," she said and quickly tried to shut the door but Klavier was having none of that.

"Fräulein!" he called out and when the door remained slightly ajar and he got no response, disappointment flooded through him. Then, the door re-opened and Ema walked into the office with apparent determination and the smile was back on his face.

"Yes?"

"Why did you come, Fräulein detective?" he asked, his twinkling eyes fixed on her.

Ema scowled. "You told me you wanted to see me."

"I did?" he frowned, trying to remember when he had said that and what he'd have wanted.

"Yes," Ema's scowl deepened. "This morning. You walked by my desk and said you wanted to see me."

And then it dawned on him. Yes, he remembered that. How could he have forgotten? He had indeed wanted to see her and on a whim as he passed her on his way to his office he'd said as much, figuring he'd find an excuse for calling her to him. Then Raoul had paid him an unexpected visit and he'd been busy with him ever since so he had forgotten his need to find an appropriate excuse for summoning her.

"Zur Hölle damit!" he muttered under his breath. Why had she not come before? Or rather, why had Raoul come now, today?

"He's havin' one of them moments," Raoul said and Klavier's attention transferred to him. He'd forgotten his friend was still here. He was annoyed to find the red-head looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Double damn it, he thought. In a bid to find the time to think of a reason for why he called her to his office, Klavier gestured toward Raoul absent-mindedly and said,

"Raoul Adagio. Raoul, this is Fräulein Ema Skye."

"You've probably heard of me, betty," Raoul drawled and Klavier's head snapped up, eyes widening as Ema's narrowed.

"My name," Ema hissed, glaring daggers at Raoul, "Is Ema."

Klavier's fist covered his mouth and he coughed discreetly to mask the laughter bursting forth from his lips. He was sure that Raoul had now become the number 1 fop in Ema's book. The unfazed look on his face seemed to aggravate Ema beyond words because she turned her back to him and glared at Klavier.

"What. Did. You. Call. Me. For?" she ground out.

The precious few minutes he'd had as Raoul annoyed her should have provided him with a reason to give to her but because of the enjoyment of the spectacle before him, he'd still not thought of anything. However, years of prosecuting had taught him to find a way to remain calm and improvise. He glanced down at the reports on his desk before looking back up at her.

"I need an update on the condition of Fräulein Caz," he said smoothly. He was prepared for the glower that she threw his way.

"I did that yesterday."

"I know," he gave her a friendly smile. "I wish for an update today also."

"Can't you send someone else?" she complained. "I have so much paperwo — "

"I do not trust anyone to do the job like you," he winked. Then, as if his body had a life of its own, as if it had forgotten that Raoul was still sat not two feet away and would get a kick out of the slightest mishap in this situation, he stood up and moved around his desk slowly advancing on her. Her eyes were wide again and he decided that he liked this expression on her. It allowed him to see her features in their entirety without being distorted by some frown or scowl. He felt a sudden sense of déjà vue as she took a step back for every step he took forward. "Please," he said quietly, staring into her emerald depths. "I would… appreciate it."

She gulped visibly and nodded before turning around without a word and fled. Klavier stared at the door (which she had left wide open) for a few minutes after she disappeared, breathing in the citrus scent she had left behind. He longed to follow after her, to trace her steps every second of the day. He wanted to make her look at him with those eyes, he wanted her to smile at him with those lips, to touch him with those hands… He sighed. He knew he couldn't. Harassment and stalking was banned in all states. So he turned around and headed back to his desk where he fell into his chair. He cleared his throat and looked at his documents again — he had just remembered Raoul was still watching him and given his nature, if Klavier showed the slightest sign of embarrassment, the man would be all over him.

"That's one breezy woman," Raoul said when he realised Klavier was not likely to show any weakness. "She looks better than in those tabloid shots with Des."

Klavier frowned. He didn't like to be reminded of her relationship status nor did he like the idea of Raoul's attention turned to Ema. On the other hand, Ema's opinion of Raoul was clearly not too great so he had nothing to fear. The competition, as far as he was aware, was only Deston. And he was more than enough; Klavier could not find it in him to think of Deston as competition without some measure of guilt. After all, Deston was his friend and he was a good one at that too. He'd always been there for Klavier when he was down. The thought had crossed Klavier's mind that he should not interfere with the relationship — Ema clearly wanted to be with Deston. But then he remembered what he had been told — all is fair in love and war. Deston had not asked Klavier if he felt anything for Ema and by doing so, had left the path open to war.

"Yo!" Raoul's irritated voice cut into his thoughts and he looked at him. "What planet you on, dude?"

"Sorry," Klavier muttered shuffling papers around. "I am just confused as to how to approach this case if the Doktor will not cooperate."

Raoul sighed and the sound was irritated. "Didn't I tell ya to go to the records room?" He stood up and readjusted his scarf around his neck. "So glad we got ta spend some quality time together." He flicked his earring. "Arrivederci."

"Ja," Klavier muttered absent-mindedly. "Rock… Hey!" he said suddenly and Raoul stopped at the door. "Where is Deston?"

The bassist shrugged and the words he shot over his shoulder as he exited left Klavier scowling; "Last I checked, he wasn't my boyfriend, dude."

Klavier threw down his pen and leaned back in his chair. His mind was whirring again. He wondered where Deston was now — ever since he and Ema became an item, Klavier had spent a lot of time thinking about what Deston was doing because wherever Deston was, Ema could be found too. At first, Klavier had thought it was just Deston doing the following around but recently, Klavier had seen Ema do the same. It irritated him to no end but what could he do about it really? He tried to look at it positively; if he knew where Deston was he would know where she was and so he had more opportunities to try and seduce Ema and win her over. As he had the other night…

As was often the case when he thought of her, a smile tugged at his lips when his mind's eye zeroed in on the memory. He could still recall with perfect clarity, the warmth of her body as he had trapped her between the tree and himself. And when he had grabbed her arm, his fingers had brushed against the skin of her wrist and the electric current that rushed through him at the contact would have immobilised him had it not been for the fact that he had been hell-bent on enveloping her with his arms. The look of shock that had passed over her face had only served to enhance already luscious features. It had taken all his power not to ravish her lips with his; he knew that would have scared her off not to mention she probably wouldn't have been too impressed if he betrayed his friend. Kissing her forehead wasn't the best testament to his loyalty either but he hoped that she would somehow overlook it. In the meantime, he had to find a way to keep himself busy, to somehow refrain from doing something that would ruin his plan. Aside from that, he had to find something to prevent less pleasant thoughts from entering his mind… like Daryan and Kristoph.

Ignoring Kristoph's shameful incarceration had become a little easier with time but Daryan's betrayal had brought it all screaming back and Klavier had found himself thinking about his brother more and more. There was one universal question under which all the other questions festered; why? Why had they done it? Sometimes, for a split second of craziness or longing or anger (he didn't know which), he had considered going to see his brother and ask him why. He imagined himself insisting that Kristoph tell the truth about his crime and his reason for it. His daydream always ended the same way — with another patronisingly calm refusal and Klavier knew that his imagination was probably a rather accurate foreshadowing of the events that would transpire. He had no hope that Kristoph would be swayed by anything his baby brother would say to him. So, eventually, he decided against this course of action, often putting him off from even trying with Daryan. He figured Daryan would say something equally irritating and Klavier didn't need further emotional torment just as he had been saved from the depression that had been eating him alive.

As always, his thoughts turned to the woman that had saved his life. He had thought about her almost as much as Ema ever since that night at the beach. He had tried finding her except that no name, no location and nothing besides a face wasn't enough to track one woman down out of millions. He had spent countless nights racking his brain for a way to find the nameless figure. He wanted to find her and thank her… and ask how she had disappeared within the space of 10 minutes. He had to reassure himself that she had been real and not something his mind had conjured up. The idea of her being a figment of his imagination was… excruciating. It would destroy the very foundations of his strength. Heneeded to find her.

This was probably not the best time, however. He had a case to prepare for and thinking about her was not conducive to its preparation. He had to keep his mental state of mind clear of these thoughts. He sighed as he pushed himself up into a sitting position and looked down at his papers again. Raoul was probably right — he should take a look in the Records room. He got up and made his way down several corridors, through the Criminal Affairs office and entered the deserted room of endless cabinets. As he examined them, he had no idea where he should start to look for transferred malice cases — they were all organised by their official case names. He wondered if he could get one of his underlings to look through them for him but the incompetence that had grown in the department of late made it highly unlikely he would have something useful on his desk in time for the trial. With a sigh frustration, Klavier pulled open a random cabinet and the sight of all the files made him groan. He was almost ready to close it and go back to his office and let the charge drop thinking he would prosecute for the other three charges when he saw one name; M. Edgeworth.

Klavier hadn't met the man but he'd heard enough about him to know that the man had prosecuted more than his share of cases in his day and the wide range of manila folders were proof of that. Surely he had prosecuted a transferred malice case? But he couldn't stand around here and look through them, there were simply too many, so instead he pulled out as many as his large hands could allow him and gathered them in his arms thinking he was probably going to spend the rest of the day and probably all night in his office. He made to shut the cabinet when he saw another name that caught his eye. Slowly, he settled the pile in his arms on an empty shelf nearby and pulled on the tag marked K. Gavin. He'd never thought to look into the cases his brother had taken on and he knew they were aplenty too, before and after Klavier's move to the States. Now, however, interest nudged him to sift quickly through the folders until eventually he pulled them all out of the cabinet too. How had it never occurred to him to do this before? What if there was an answer to all of Klavier's questions resting in between these papers? He threw it on top of the other files and, kicking the drawer close, retraced his steps to his office ignoring the looks he got from everyone on the way. It wasn't unusual for a prosecutor to carry a pile or two out of that room but he doubted anyone had seen such a large collection of cases in one pair of arms. Nevertheless, nobody questioned him or stopped him.

Upon re-entering his office, he kicked his door behind him which would hopefully send a signal to anyone who tried disturbing him that he wanted to be left alone. He let the documents rest on his desk and seated himself while snatching a folder off the top and flipping it open. He focused on the case name (DF-3) and the pictures of the victims and the accused. Klavier didn't recognise them but he proceeded to skim through the details. It was a murder case and seemed, to Klavier, a case like any other. There was no link to Kristoph in it except that he was the defense attorney and therefore, there was no reason for Klavier to pay attention to it. He had long forgotten that he had a defendant to prosecute tomorrow and as he reached for the next file through the inordinately unorganised stack of cases, his mind was only on finding an answer to that all consuming question. Yet after 45 minutes of browsing through them with increasing impatience to the point where he was doing little more than glancing at the pictures and the names, Klavier was ready to punch someone, preferably his brother. It was when he threw the folder in his hands towards the heap of cases that something happened that made him believe in everything from the spiritual to divine intervention. The thrown folder collided with the file on top, knocking it off and causing it to land in front of him, the sheets of paper half spilling out of their confines. Klavier's irritated and tired eyes widened with disbelief and shock when they fixed on the pictures attached to the top of the sheet and his sharp intake of breath disturbed the silence. With tingling fingers, he pulled it towards him and his gaze drank in the features of the faces as his mind attempted to comprehend the meaning of this.

One was a picture of a man, and somewhere in the back of his mind where shock had not gripped him, Klavier thought he would be considered extremely handsome by most women. He was dark-haired, blue-eyed and worthy of any modelling agency. The other picture… was of her.

The woman who had saved him.

He had found her. He had found her in a case file. As a murder victim.

Klavier couldn't remove his eyes from her face — she was smiling in it and the sadness and regret was still etched there, in the lines of her face, only it was not as pronounced as when she had spoken to him. Her eyes and hair looked lighter in this photo. In fact everything about her in this picture looked significantly lighter and Klavier doubted it had anything to do with the lighting. Other than that, she looked exactly the same — her eyes encompassed the same ageless wisdom he had sensed in her and there was a sincere kindness to her smile. He settled against the back of his chair, still in shock, as he absorbed the unlikelihood of this situation. How could this possibly be a coincidence? How could he have found her in a pile of folders? And a murder victim? How could she be… dead? His mind could not grasp the idea that he might have… that he could have… that he'd met… a spirit? A ghost? A soul? He had always known there was more to life than the physical, especially given the history of the legal system and the strange cases that had passed through the courtroom and the police department's ties to spirit mediums. However, he'd never imagined he would have ever experienced such things himself, especially so unwittingly… He closed his eyes and rubbed them before taking a deep breath and he looked at her smiling face again.

What had she done to deserve this?

And as Klavier began to read, the shock was pushed aside by anger;

AZ—6

Victim: Gale Rainsford

Primary Suspect: Rafael Rainsford

Known confederate(s): Kade Richards & Simon Lowes

Date of Death: Estimated, 28th November 2023. Body found 29th November 2023 by a Mr James Teeson.

Location of Death: Los Angeles, CA

`.`.

Victim Full Name: Gale Lana Rainsford

Age at Death:35

Marital Status:Single

Profession(s): Legal advisor & accomplished writer

Medical History: No known problems

`.`.

Suspect Full Name: Rafael Ian Rainsford

Age at Trial: 45

Marital Status: Married

Profession(s): CEO of Cyrun™

Medical History: No known problems

`.`.

Events leading to death: Reported missing on 5th May 2023 by best friend and housemate, Bianca Haynes, when Ms Rainsford did not come home or answer her phone. Ms Rainsford was last seen with Messrs Richards and Rainsford who presumably led Ms Rainsford to Mr Richards' home whereupon the victim was held prisoner until her death.

Cause of Death:Multiple stab wounds to the abdomen.

Motive: Unknown

`.`.

Outcome
Suspect: Rafael Rainsford

Plea: Not Guilty

Verdict: Guilty

Sentence: Death Penalty

`.`.

Suspect: Kade Richards

Plea: Not Guilty

Verdict: Guilty

Sentence: Life Imprisonment

`.`.

Suspect: Simon Lowes

Plea: Guilty

Verdict: Guilty

Sentence: 20 years imprisonment with no chance for parole

`.`.

Klavier's mind was whirring as he continued to pour over the details of the trial and the autopsy report that came with it. His jaw clenched when he read that along with the stab wounds, her body showed signs of violence and rape in the form of cuts and bruises all over her body. After this savage treatment with seemingly no motive, these animals had dumped her body on the road side to be found by whomever came across her first. And he hadn't missed the identical surnames but there was no reference to a relationship between the two in any of the documents and Klavier refused to believe it was purely coincidental. Additionally, the Lowes' guilty plea (supposedly because he felt remorse) made him sure there was more to this story than this report was telling him. He had to find out what it was. He had to discover what was going on. He had, to some extent, accepted that he had conversed with a spirit and many of her comments made more sense to him now than they had then. Still, a part of him was still reeling with the knowledge that he had been in the presence of something so… unbelievable. He had always believed in such things but never placed himself in a scenario where he might have to deal with it himself. And now that he had, Klavier found more drama than he had ever anticipated. Not only had she been supernatural, she was also a murder victim… and her murderer had been defended by his brother.

The rage that had been building inside of him exploded, and the desk splintered as his fist crashed down upon it, his ringed fingers coming into contact with the wood as a roar ripped through his throat, wrenched by his disbelief that his brother could defend such monsters. He had always known that Kristoph believed in the right to a fair trial but to defend such blatant criminals — no, animals — was beyond anything Klavier could have imagined. He had never thought that his brother would have defended such brutality.

But then, a memory flashed before his darkening eyes of two blond brothers bickering over their parents separation and he wondered how he hadn't seen the signs then. How had he missed Kristoph's nature in that conversation? And suddenly, the angry look on Kristoph's face, as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with the scarred hand that always made Klavier wonder how he'd received the injury, made sense to him. How could he have ignored the warning that had laced his brother's every word as he had blamed their mother for their parents separation and the ensuing events?

"Mr Gavin, sir?"

Klavier's attention was now drawn to the young woman hesitating in the doorway, looking at him apprehensively. How long had she been standing there? Had she seen him? Hadn't he shut the door for a reason! Klavier's anger must have been evident in his face because she mumbled something about disturbing him and that she would come back later.

"Wait," he said, struggling to reign in his emotions. "Please, come in, Fräulein. I am sorry, my mind was elsewhere." She paused and scanned his face as if to assess how safe it actually was to take him up on his offer. With his feelings somewhat in control, he smiled to reassure her. That seemed to do the trick as she smiled back uncertainly and took a few steps towards him. He lifted his hand to beckon her forward but hissed as pain shot through his arm. Now that he was calmer, the throbbing in his hand was more evident and he grimaced at the woman who had now frozen in her tracks. "Achtung! I fear I've done something to my hand." He smiled at her sheepishly. "I should go get this checked out. I trust that whatever your business was, it was not urgent?" She shook her head. "Very well." He stood up and moved around the table, gingerly holding his hand with the other.

"Would you like a ride, Mr Gavin, sir?" she seemed to blurt this out and then appeared to cower into herself.

"It would be most welcome, Fräulein, danke," he smiled at her warmly and signalled for her to follow him out which she did. "I won't be riding my hog with this arm."

And a very enthusiastic young officer whose name he never bothered to ask led an angry, shocked and confused Klavier to the hospital.

50 minutes, 3 broken fingers and a bandaged hand later, Klavier was walking past the reception desk of the 3rd floor towards the elevators when he heard one of his fans from the clamouring crowd around him whisper something that caught his attention. They were all walking away from him in resignation (his bandaged hand meant he could no longer sign autographs, which was a relief) when he heard a girl secretly whisper to her friend that she thought she'd seen Deston in the ward above. Klavier made a sharp u-turn towards the reception desk where he turned the charm dial to full.

"Guten Morgen," he smiled leaning on the desk as he stared into the blonde's eyes. He knew that his German accent and speech made most women weak at the knees. "I am looking for Deston Cavatin. Is he in this hospital?"

The woman, who was trembling from the shock of being on the receiving end of his charm, nodded and pointed upwards with one unsteady finger and said, without a thought, "He's upstairs, Mr Gavin, in Ward 3."

Klavier flashed his best smile at her, "Danke schön, mein liebe." He thought, as he turned away, that judging by the look on her face she was going to die of bliss.

On his way to his destination, Klavier wondered if Ema was here. He had sent her to the hospital to ask about Caz's condition and if Deston had been here at the same time, there was no doubt she was with him now. Also considering the fact that it had been almost over two hours since he had sent her here and she hadn't, to his knowledge, returned to the office, the logical conclusion was that she was with him. He tried to ignore the green eyed monster that rose in him and he found that he was getting better at it than before. However, given the emotional rollercoaster he'd been on today, it was more difficult than usual. He told himself that it was a good thing — this meant he would have another chance to bewitch her in one way or another.

When the sign for Ward 3 came, he turned down the corridor looking left and right for any sign of his friend. Just as he was thinking he should have asked the receptionist for the door number, he saw a tall figure in a lab coat leaning against a wall next to a door. She would have blended right in considering the place was full of doctors were it not for the fact that Klavier's eyes were programmed to recognise her even among a hundred doctors with lab coats. It was the colour of her hair, the posture of her back, the hand on her waist… as Klavier approached her, he felt all his troubles disintegrate and he was feeling lighter than he had all day.

"Fräulein," he said quietly and she pushed herself away from the wall and faced him with a guilty look.

"Do you mind not sneaking up on me!" she hissed. "Why you have to — what happened to your hand!" She cried and her hands flew towards his bandaged one. "What did you do to it?"

Trying not to show the delight he felt at her concern, Klavier merely shrugged, "Nothing to worry about, Fräulein," he flashed her a smile. "It was an accident. It will be better in no time."

"An accident?" Ema echoed and he suddenly felt very uncomfortable at the way her eyes searched his features, as if she didn't believe him.

"I heard Deston is here. I assume then, as you are here that he's in there?" Klavier pointed at the door to he left of her, trying to change the subject.

"Ye — I mean, no!" Ema said, shaking her head vigorously. "He was here but he's gone."

Klavier's eyebrow rose as his prosecutor senses kicked in. Ema was lying to him. But why? "Who was he visiting?"

"Er, nobody. That's to say, he wasn't visiting anybody here, it was down there." She pointed vaguely towards the end of the corridor. "I don't know who he was visiting." Ema flushed and if Klavier hadn't been so preoccupied trying to figure out why she was lying, he would have found her irresistibly charming.

"Then what are you doing here?" Ema's mouth opened as he waited patiently for her to answer his question.

"I… I…" Ema gulped. "I was… looking for…" She looked left and right. "Um…" She looked back at him and he tilted his head, waiting silently. "OH ALRIGHT!" She exploded. "He is in there! But you can't go in! He's talking and he didn't want to be disturbed and…" She went quiet all of a sudden and turned away but not before Klavier saw the look of sadness that crossed her face. She looked upset, more upset than he had ever seen her and he didn't like it. Gently, he lifted his good hand to her arm which he used to turn her around to face him. He placed a finger under her chin and pushed upwards lightly until she was looking up at him.

"What is it, mein liebling?" he murmured. "Why are you so forlorn?"

"I am not forlorn," she snapped suddenly stepping away and all traces of her miserable expression were gone. "You just can't disturb him. You can talk to him when he comes out."

Klavier paused, confused by the sudden shift in her behaviour. She was the type to hide her emotions — he'd experienced that on several occasions. So, with a smile, he allowed her this sudden cover. "If I knock, I am sure he will not mind." And ignoring the protests that fell from her lips and the tug on his clothes, Klavier knocked once on the door and after a second, pushed down on the handle.

And in the seconds it took for him to open the door, step inside and absorb the scene before him, he got a glimpse into the minds of those he had fought to punish since he was 17. In that one moment, Klavier Gavin finally understood the urge to kill.