Phoenix Wright
Turnabout Titan
Chapter Seven – Trial Day Three
December 19th, 2008
9:12 AM
Jump City District Courthouse
Foyer
Phoenix Wright looked across the marble-walled foyer of Jump City's courthouse and stared directly at the young man he was about to accuse of murder. Catching Ted Bloominflaur wouldn't be easy; the young man was, at the moment, the picture of poise and decorum. Wright had asked that his younger brother Eddie be added to the witness list, and, as predicted, the rest of the Bloominflaur family returned as well.
Movement nearby caught Nick's attention, and he turned to see Maya and Pearl beside him and several of the Titans not far from them.
Maya was the first to speak. "Did you sleep well last night, Nick?" Her face betrayed her concern rather blatantly. But it wasn't necessary.
"Yeah, I did," Wright nodded. "Because I finally know what I have to do to get Robin off the hook."
"Bluff and make really big assumptions?" Pearl asked.
"Exactly," Wright said with a smirk and a nod. "And right now I'm assuming that if Ted Bloominflaur knew what was coming, he wouldn't look nearly so confident."
The bailiff called for the court defense to enter the room, and Wright turned to head into the court room.
"Do you think you'll need sis's help?" Maya asked him, approaching from behind and tugging on Nick's sleeve.
Wright grimaced. "I'm really not sure, but it wouldn't hurt."
Maya nodded, her frown transforming into her infamous mischievous smile. "In that case we might want the most powerful Spirit Medium there is on Team Wright!"
"Mystic Maya, don't be so boastful!" Pearl scolded. "Mother always said pride was bad!"
Never one for practicing what you preached, were you Morgan? Nick thought. Maya's aunt and Pearl's mother Morgan Fey had been one of the most arrogant women—one of the most arrogant human beings—that Nick had ever met.
"Don't be silly," Maya said, reaching out and placing a hand on Pearl's shoulder. "I'm talking about you, Pearly! You have a lot more spirit energy than I could ever hope to have."
"You really think so?" Pearl beamed.
Wright arched an eyebrow and wondered, briefly, if Maya didn't have an ulterior motive for sending Pearl out with him instead of going herself. He shrugged it off. She probably had a perfectly valid reason.
Then again, this is Maya we're talking about…
"Last call!" cried the perpetually-rude bailiff. "Get in here, porcupine head."
Wright glared at him, but said nothing. He'd save his words for the courtroom.
December 19th, 2008
9:34 AM
Jump City District Courthouse
Courtroom B
As the trial began, Phoenix Wright began to grow more nervous; now that he knew the entire story about Tim Drake's death was a lie, he knew that Von Karma would be able to use that against him. Franziska had known from the start that it had been a lie, she just lacked a way to prove it yesterday… Or at least that was Nick's theory.
Nick checked the court record one last time, making sure everything he'd need was in place. Von Karma had also submitted some new evidence, including a receipt for an energy drink. Mocha-pineapple flavored? Nick thought. Who would drink that!?
What happened next was anybody's guess.
"Is the prosecution ready?" asked the British Judge from high atop his bench.
Franziska bowed. "Ready your honor, as always."
"Is the defense ready?"
Nick nodded. "Ready, your honor."
"In that case, we will begin the trial. Yesterday we established that the defendant, Mr. Robin of the Teen Titans, cannot be Timothy Drake, for Mr. Drake committed suicide more than two years ago."
Nick gulped. Er, sure, we'll go with that, he thought.
"Don't worry, Mr. Nick," Pearl comforted. "You know what to do when the time comes!"
The judge continued. "Yesterday the prosecution was unable to present any evidence against the statements of the witness, Dr. Leslie Thompkins. What say you today, Miss von Karma?"
Franziska stood straight as a board, cracking her whip in her hands to silence all the background noise from the audience. "Today, I shall demonstrate that the scenario described yesterday by Robin and Dr. Thompkins is not only untrue, but completely implausible."
"That's quite a bold statement," the Judge said, skepticism apparent in his voice. "But very well. Call your first witness to the stand."
"Dr. Thompkins," von Karma said, nodding to the elderly woman.
Leslie Thompkins walked out to the witness stand, regarding the prosecutor with an expression of concern and confusion. She was as clueless as to what was coming as Nick was, and that didn't bode well.
"Dr. Thompkins," she said, "I'd like to turn your attention to the record of Timothy Drake's death."
"Yes?"
Wright gulped. Here comes the pain.
"The date on the certificate," she pointed out, and read it aloud. "This document was pulled from a computer, clearly."
"I fail to see the complication," Thompkins replied.
Von Karma gave the woman a smirk of pure self-satisfaction. "There is no mortician's record for Timothy Drake's death on this date. There is no solid physical record anywhere in any of the nine funeral homes in northern Gotham City of a funeral. None of the seven major cemeteries' have an record of Mr. Drake's burial. Computer records exist, but there are no physical records."
Von Karma cracked her whip against Dr. Thompkins desk, the sound of thunder cracking throughout the room. And then her voice, almost as loud. "Please explain to the court this discrepancy!"
Dr. Thompkins eyes widened, her mouth falling open. "There… there must be some mistake. I was there when the casket was closed."
"I'm sure you were," von Karma said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Was there anything in the casket?"
"Of course there was!" Dr. Thompkins shot back.
"Objection!" Phoenix cried. "Your Honor, the prosecutor is badgering the witness and asking irrelevant questions."
"Overruled," the Judge responded. "These questions go to the heart of the credibility of the witness."
"Objection!" Wright cried, slamming his hands down. "Since when is A Time To Kill considered valid legal technique!?"
The Judge scowled. "Mr. Wright, your snarky attitude is not appreciated in this courtroom. I'm afraid I'll have to penalize you."
The gavel came down and Phoenix winced as he lost another mark. Three more and he'd be held in contempt, which would be disastrous for Robin's case. And given that, even if he could prove that Robin was not Tim Drake, it wouldn't win him the case, the only course of action he could think of essentially involved sacrificing Dr. Thompkins and her credibility to Franziska.
"No further objections," Nick stated, taking a step back and sitting down. "I'm sorry, Your Honor."
"Very well," replied the Judge. "If you will, Miss von Karma, continue."
"When you saw Jason's body in the casket, what was he wearing?" asked Franziska von Karma. For a moment, Wright thought that Franziska had misspoken, using Jason's name instead of Tim's…
But then his stomach fell to his feet he realized what von Karma had done, and before he could raise his voice to intervene, the damage had been done.
"He was wearing a tuxedo," Thompkins said, looking down at the table, clearly repulsed by what she was describing. "The morticians did a good job of making him look.. like himself."
The courtroom fell silent, as everyone stood and stared at Leslie Thompkins, Phoenix felt himself begin to sweat, and he leaned forward, waiting for Dr. Thompkins to continue. The pain on her face, however, transformed into shock, realization, and horror. The silence continued for another several seconds, until finally, Franziska broke it.
"I do not take delight in using such methods of deception," began the prosecutor, calmly. "But I think the results speak for themselves."
"What do you mean?" Dr. Tompkins asked, though her question sounded entirely disingenuous.
"I asked you about Jason's funeral, and that is what you described," von Karma said, her lip turning up ever-so-slightly in a smirk of satisfaction.
"No," Dr. Thompkins said, her eyes shining with tears of regret. "I assumed.. I assumed that you misspoke and answered the question that you meant to ask. I thought you meant Timothy."
"You answered the question I meant to ask very well, Dr. Thompkins," Franziska said. "Very well indeed."
Leslie slammed her hands onto the podium in front of the witness stand. "I was talking about Tim!"
"You weren't," von Karma spat. She pulled her whip up and cracked it against Dr. Thompkins' podium, barely missing the elderly woman's hands. "Let us not mince words; a funeral is a very solemn thing. And save for their black hair and blue eyes, Timothy Drake and Jason Todd shared very few similarities; including their supposed manner of death."
"What are you—" Dr. Thompkins began a question, but Nick realized she reached the answer in her own mind before she finished speaking. Her eyes widened further, her silver hair somehow seeming darker compared to the witness of her eyes.
She explained. "Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne's second adopted son, was killed by—supposedly—a violent motorcycle accident, seven years ago. He suffered many traumatic wounds to all parts of his body, especially his face, as he was not wearing a helmet."
Von Karma's explanation made Nick wince. I've seen some grizzly things in my career, but the I've never seen anyone outright mutilated. I could never do the kind of work Dr. Thompkins does.
"What relevance does this have to Dr. Thompkins' testimony?" Wright asked, though he feared he already knew where it was going.
"Quite simply, her statement that the morticians did a good job making him 'look like himself'. Timothy Drake's funeral, though more recent, if it occurred at all, would have required little such work. Mr. Drake's supposed suicide was by hanging, and…"
Von Karma showed the court the photograph of the suicide that Nick now knew was staged; it simultaneously relieved him to know that the photo before him was fiction and made him sick to his stomach that his own witness had presented it as evidence in a court of law.
"As you can see," began Franziska, "the photo shows the defendant looking exactly like himself. "
Murmurs erupted throughout the courtroom, and the Judge had to use his gavel to quiet everyone. "Order, order in the court," he demanded. "Dr. Thompkins, this is very damaging testimony. Are you certain you wish to continue?"
Dr. Thompkins head fell. "I'm sorry, Your Honor. I must have got the funerals confused. I suppose that the prosecutor's mention… of Jason's name triggered that memory."
"Objection," von Karma blurted. "Just a moment ago you said that you knew I misspoke and gave me the description of Timothy's funeral instead."
Leslie Thompkins practically fell back into her chair, more murmurs drowning out any further voices until the Judge finally managed to quiet the onlookers. The elderly woman simply sat behind her podium, staring at the floor. After a few more seconds, she stood and shook her head. She seemed to return to normal, but Nick noticed that something was different, off. She now looked weary, somehow older. Her confidence, he realized, had been stripped away.
Von Karma was destroying her testimony, her reputation… and perhaps Dr. Thompkins' credibility as a doctor.
"Memory," she began weakly, "Isn't a flawless recording of past events. Sometimes memories can become mixed, confused with other memories of similar events, even years apart."
The Judge didn't seem convinced. "I'm sorry, Dr. Thompkins, but if your memory is not able to distinguish between two separate funerals that happened five years apart and both within the last decade, then perhaps you are not fit to be a witness in this case. Jason Todd is not the one on trial here. I must ask you to step down from the bench at risk of being charged with obstruction of justice."
"If I leave now," Dr. Thompkins said, "I will not be charged with anything?"
"You have not demonstrably committed a crime," the Judge said. "At the moment, at least."
Leslie Thompkins took a slow, deep nod, contemplating her next move. Wright hung his head and found himself unable to look at her until she finally began speaking again.
"In that case," she said, "I plead the Fifth Amendment. I will not risk incriminating myself."
A cacophony of background static drowned out the court room and Nick waited a good minute and a half before the Judge was able to silence them. Slowly, the bailiff escorted Dr. Thompkins out of the room. The witness' chair was now empty, and Phoenix Wright knew exactly who he had to call to the stand.
The Judge, however, had different ideas.
"I think the truth in this matter, has become very clear. Regrettable as it is, I must declare the defendant, Mr. Timothy Drake…"
Sweat running down his brow, his heart racing in his chest, Wright slammed his hands on his desk hoping to get the word out before the gavel came down.
"OBJECTION!"
"Boy, what is the meaning of this, I've already reached my verdict!"
"Your Honor!" began Phoenix, glancing over at Pearls, who gave him a confident nod. "You referred to the defendant as Timothy Drake. Earlier you said that Jason Todd is not on trial here, correct? Well neither is Tim Drake. This trial is to ascertain whether or not Robin, leader of the Teen Titans, killed a man."
"Can you not see that your client is guilty, Mr. Phoenix Wright?" asked von Karma. "It is over."
"GUILTY OF WHAT!?" Nick demanded. "Guilty of being Tim Drake? Perhaps, perhaps not. But that's not what this trial is about."
Von Karma jerked back.
"You fool—"
"I'm not a fool," Nick retorted. "Robin's identity is ultimately irrelevant to this case. We proved that the data on Mr. Newitt in Robin's computer was forged, planted by an unseen force."
Nick reached into his court record and pulled out the photo that Yin had provided for him. "And this photo, taken over ten years ago, clearly proves that Batman and Bruce Wayne are NOT the same person. Both Wayne and Batman interacted with James Gordon, Gotham City's police commissioner. If either of them had not been themselves, Mr. Gordon would have known better than anybody."
The photo depicted Bruce Wayne and Gordon shaking hands, with Batman off to the side and police arresting a man named Hugo Strange in the background. Apparently Strange had been a bona fide mad scientist, convinced he could use machines to see people's deepest, innermost thoughts.
Franziska glowered at Nick, and that anger only helped push the ace attorney onwards.
"Your Honor," Wright said, closing his eyes hoping beyond hope that he didn't screw this up. "One of the prosecution's witnesses, I would like to call back to the stand."
"Oh?" the Judge said. "Which one?"
Here goes nothing. "I would like to call… Eddie Bloominflaur to the stand."
KER-WHIP!
The sting of von Karma's whip against Nick's chest caused him to grunt in pain, and he took a step back.
"You foolish fool, what motive could you possibly have for calling such a young boy to the stand?!"
"Your Honor, if this goes nowhere, you may penalize me," Wright said. "But I really have to question him some more. Something about his testimony doesn't add up."
"Oh really?" the Judge asked. "What is it? The Evidence? The details of the murder? A contradiction in the testimony?"
Wright sat down, he had to think this one though, because the look in the Judge's eye told him that if he didn't get this write, the trial would end here and now. The evidence…? No, Wright had plenty of evidence, but it only looked incriminating for Theodore Bloominflaur…
And, despite the misstep of Eddie saying that HE had killed Robin, the explanation von Karma had given had more than satisfied the Judge. A contradiction would get him a penalty too, Wright was certain.
"I believe I would like to question our eye witness on the details of the murder," Wright said. "Despite the photos, I feel that his testimony was rather vague."
The Judge seemed to look over his notes for a moment, before nodding. "Very well, Mr. Wright. I'll allow you to question the boy." Despite his resignation, the Judge was clearly growing weary of the case. "However, first we will take a ten-minute recess."
The gavel came down, and the court was, momentarily, adjourned.
December 19th, 2008
10:17 AM
Jump City District Courthouse
Foyer
Wright sat back on the wooden bench of the Courthouse foyer and sighed. "I hope they don't prepare the kid to lie," he thought aloud.
Don't worry," Pearl beamed. "You've trapped people a lot smarter before, Mr. Nick. You caught… my mom, when she helped that woman kill the rude doctor."
Wright nodded. It wasn't that he thought a ten-year old would out-smart him. He was worried that if the Bloominflaurs really were somehow involved, that they'd coached their kid enough to avoid any traps Wright might lay.
"Nick!" cried Maya. "You were amazing in there!" The young spirit medium practically flew towards him and glomped him. If the bench hadn't been against the wall, it probably would have fallen over from the impact.
"I was?" Wright asked, scratching his head. "I haven't done anything yet. There's still a battle to fight."
"But the Judge was literally handing down the verdict and you were all OBJECTION! And then he let you question the kid again and it was awesome."
"I'm afraid it won't be enough." The voice was nearby, familiar, and apologetic. Nick turned to see a woman with long gray hair standing next to him, her face deeply melancholy.
"Dr. Thompkins," Nick addressed her. "I—I'm sorry I couldn't do anything."
"If anyone should be sorry, it should be me. I betrayed my code of ethics; you stuck to yours. It's, perhaps, a good thing I've retired from general practition. Otherwise I might be forced to resign after this incident." She gave a bitter laugh. "I don't suspect our paths will ever cross again; nevertheless, I wish you luck, Mr. Wright."
Nick stood up, this time leaning closer to the doctor and speaking quietly so that Maya and Pearl would not hear. "I will get him off the hook. Robin didn't murder Frank Newitt."
Dr. Thompkins didn't respond; she simply pulled her purse up over her shoulder and left with Dick Grayson and the red-head that had accompanied her when she first arrived in Jump City.
They're Nightwing and Batgirl, Phoenix realized as they exited the courthouse. He vaguely felt even sicker to his stomach as he realized the extent of the attempted cover-up. Then when he considered that all of their friends and family could be endangered by their identities coming out, he felt slightly better. Phoenix was sure of one thing—he hated moral ambiguity.
"Two minutes," Maya said, glancing at her cell phone.
Nick nodded, and strode quickly across the room to Robin, who was still standing near the bailiff getting a drink of water from the fountain. "Listen, Robin…"
Robin looked up. "I should have expected something like this would happen. I'm not quite sure why, Wright, but my faith in you is increasing. Let's just get this over with."
"I'll do my best," he said.
Robin shook his head. "You'll have to do better than that. I still have no idea why the Bloominflaurs would want to set me up, or what business Frank Newitt had with Nightwing. Nightwing himself had never heard of the man."
Nick shrugged. "I guess that's what we'll have to figure out."
"One minute!" the bailiff shouted to the rest of the Foyer, nearly taking Phoenix's eardrum out of commission by sheer volume.
"Good luck," Robin said, giving him a polite nod as they filed into the Courtroom.
"Time for round two," Nick said. This time it would be an all-out assault on Theodore Bloominflaur.
December 19th, 2008
10:29 AM
Jump City District Courthouse
Courtroom B
"Is the defense ready?" asked the British Judge.
"Yes, Your Honor."
"Is the prosecution ready?"
"As always, Your Honor," Franziska said with a bow.
"Very well. The defense calls Edward Bloominflaur to the stand."
The young boy took the stand once again, clearly in a foul mood. "I still want my book deal," he muttered as he scooted the chair closer to the podium and sat down in it. His hair was barely visible over the podium as it was, so the bailiff gave him a small wooden box to stand on. Nick assumed that was what had happened two days ago, though he had been more focused on the boy's selfish ranting at the time.
"Okay, I'm up here," Eddie said. "Why did you need me to testify—again?"
"You're an eye witness to the crime, correct," asked Wright.
"Yes…" Eddie said, looking at the podium and nodding slightly. "Do I have to talk about it?"
"You saw it from over twenty feet away," Wright said, "And in darkness. I understand that it is traumatic to witness a murder, but I'm afraid I really must go over this again."
Eddie grumbled, but nodded. "Alright, ask away."
"On the night of the murder, what made you look out the window?" Wright asked, already knowing what to expect the answer to be.
The boy seemed to process the question a minute, then said, "I heard a loud crash, like someone smashing into that metal thing on the roof."
"HOLD IT!" Wright blurted. "What metal thing on the roof?"
"That big metal thing on the roof of that restaurant. I guess it's the air conditioner. I heard the bang and figured that's what it was coming from."
"That seems a bit odd," Wright said, looking over his notes.
"Why?" asked the boy.
"Well, you live in a fairly large city. Jump City has what, a million, two million people? You must hear loud noises out your window all the time."
"I guess," Eddie said. "But this noise also had a guy screaming with it. The guy who got killed."
"Hm?" the Judge leaned forward. "Perhaps you should add that to your testimony. That's a pretty important detail."
Wright interrupted, not wanting to blow it. "How tall would you say the defendant was?"
Eddie shrugged. "I have no idea, I was pretty far away. As tall as Robin, obviously, since it was him."
"Would you say he was shorter or taller than Frank Newitt?" Wright asked, hoping that the boy had seen them standing for more than a split second..
Eddie seemed to glance up at his family in the audience, as if for guidance. Getting none, he shrugged. "He was tall, much taller than Frank Newitt."
Wright heard someone in the audience bury their face in their palm violently enough to make a noise, and saw that it was Ted Bloominflaur. Good. I'm on the right track.
"Somehow I doubt that," Wright said, picking up where he left off. "Frank Newitt's height is listed in his profile as 5'8''—Robin's is listed as 5'7''."
Eddie goggled. "Um…"
Von Karma's whip lashed out and whipped the desk. "You foolish foolhardy child! You do not guess at relative height when testifying against a murderer. Mr. Phoenix Wright is well known for using minor details to make the obvious doubted and lies believable!"
Eddie shrieked and retreated from the angry prosecutor.
"Okay, so I heard the noise… and the scream.. and looked out, and saw Robin and I guess shadows made him look taller than he was… He was standing over Frank Newitt, then he twirled the bo-staff around behind his back and plunged it into his chest."
Nick nodded. Time to spring the big trap. "Which hand did he use?"
Eddie held both of his hands up and looked at them, then raised his left one. "He used his left hand." Another sound of face-palming came from the audience.
"Oh?" Phoenix Wright asked. Then he did something rather spontaneous; he pulled a stress reliever that Maya had bought him for his birthday one year and tossed it across the room to Robin. Several confused faces all turned to Robin, who easily reached up and caught the ball with both hands.
"Throw it back," Wright said.
Robin gave him an odd glance and did so with his right hand. "What was the point of that?" he asked.
"You're right-handed," Wright said. "Right?"
Robin's eyes widened, but Eddie's face turned blood red, his eyes widening.
"It seems a bit strange that a right-handed person would commit a murder with his left hand," Nick said. "Furthermore, there is a huge contradiction with the facts of the case."
"What now, Mr. Phoenix Wright? What minuscule detail contradicts this boy's testimony?" von Karma demanded.
Nick reached into the court record and removed the photos Eddie had taken of the murder. "Take that!" he cried. "Notice in both these photos, Robin clearly has both hands on the staff. Hardly a small discrepancy!"
Murmurs shot through the courtroom, and Wright smiled broadly and placed his hands on his hips. "It seems that Dr. Thompkins isn't the only witness with an imperfect memory."
A whip cracked against Nick's desk and he moved his hand off of it and up in a defensive position as a precaution.
"Do not count the chickens before the eggs are done hatching," Mr. Phoenix Wright. "My client simply misremembered the events. Robin is still clearly seen stabbing the defendant in the chest with his staff in these photos. But I suppose I don't need to remind you of that."
Wright grimaced, glancing down at the photos. It seemed so obvious; Robin wasn't stabbing him, he was pulling the staff out; crime in and of itself, but not murder. But why did the time-stamps on the photos read as though he stabbed it in?
Wright would save the quandary for another time.
"I understand," he said. "However, the inconsistency in the testimony, as well as the irrationality of the flash being on the second photo but not the first, makes me want to inquire into this matter more."
"Be warned, Mr. Wright," said the Judge. "You are treading thin ice."
"Thin ice indeed," echoed Franziska, "when the best evidence you have revolves messing with the mind of a ten year old child."
Wright paused for a moment, ignoring the prosecutor. "Eddie, why did you take the photos if you were in bed as the murder was happening? What made you think to even bother getting your camera?"
"My brother said—" Eddie began, and then stopped himself short. "I mean… I was told… That if I saw… anything weird, I should take some pictures of it.."
"You said your brother," Wright's eyes narrowed. "You specifically mentioned him. Why? Did your brother know the murder was going to take place?"
"What!? Of course not, how could Ted know about a murder that he didn't commit!?"
"I didn't say he'd committed the murder," Wright said. "What makes you think I'm accusing him of being the killer?"
Eddie began to sweat, twitching… "I'm not sure, I just thought, if he knew about it, you'd say that he was the one down there killing Frank Newitt that night."
"I only ask," Nick said, "Because I honestly do have reason to believe Ted is involved. You misspoke two days ago, saying that you had committed the murder. But it wasn't you—you were taking the photos—because your brother told you it was going to happen!"
"OBJECTION!" Shouted Franziska von Karma. "What possible evidence could link Theodore Bloominflaur to the crime!? There is nothing!"
"Mr. Wright, if you have any basis for these accusations, present it now!" demanded the Judge. "Otherwise you will be held in contempt of court!"
Wright removed his evidence from the Court Record and showed it to the court. "Your Honor, yesterday there were two attempts made on my life; someone shot at me at the scene of the crime, and, hours earlier, the brakes on my car were cut—"
"You mean Mystic Maya's car," Pearl said.
Nick laughed inside at her sincerity but didn't say anything to her. That was an unimportant detail.
"I had heard of the attempts on your life, and they are both being investigated," the Judge said. "What evidence have you that—"
"This photo is an X-Ray taken by Cyborg yesterday shortly before the brakes on my car were discovered to have been sabotaged. Ted Bloominflaur had a pair of wire-cutters in his pocket that afternoon, and plenty of time during the trial to slip out and cut the hydraulic lines on our brakes."
Franziska slammed her hands down on the desk. "That's preposterous. You have no proof—"
"Proof?" Wright shot back. "Proof!? I don't suppose I have proof, but the man was seen leaving with wire cutters, and my brakes had their wires cut. The circumstantial evidence alone is damaging."
Von Karma clutched her whip more tightly in her right hand and practically growled at Nick. "Foolish… fool."
"We've clearly established," Wright said, "that Ted Bloominflaur told his brother to expect something and to photograph it the night of the murder, and that he had the means and opportunity to sabotage my car."
"Mystic Maya's car!"
"Maya Fey's car." Wright corrected himself, "which I was riding in. Now, Your Honor, I would like to call another witness to the stand."
"Yes?" The Judge asked absently, tapping his fingers against the desk in a very unprofessional manner.
"Beast Boy," Nick said. "Cyborg has assured me that he is able to testify despite his injury."
"His injury?" The Judge asked, his eyes widening in confusion.
Nick nodded, sitting down and taking a drink of water. "Last night, Beast Boy and I were searching for more clues at the crime scene. I mentioned a second attempt on my life? Beast Boy took the bullet for me and was shot in the shoulder saving my life."
"Incredible!" the Judge exclaimed. "Clearly this young man is to be commended!"
A few moments later, Beast Boy was at the witness' stand, his shoulder heavily bandaged and his arm immobilized by a tight sling. Raven had supposedly used some sort of magic to heal his wound a bit, but the young changeling was obviously still in pain. After a few further exchanges, Wright was ready to begin questioning.
"The court is already aware of what transpired last night, and I didn't see the shooter. You did, correct?"
Beast Boy nodded, in a far less jovial mood than normal. "I saw him before he took the shot, which is why I jumped in front of you. I saw him run away after he pulled the trigger, too."
"Describe him," Wright said. "What was he wearing, his hair, his race, etc."
"He was white, had spiky hair, and wore a domino mask."
"In that case," von Karma said, "I'd say the case closed. You just described the defendant—your own team leader shot you."
"It wasn't Robin!" Beast Boy snapped. "Robin would never point a gun at anyone, let alone a Titan. The guy who shot me wasn't wearing a cape, either. Besides, Robin was in jail all night last night."
"Actually that can't be verified," von Karma said. "You see, power went off at the detention center around the same time as the attempted murder. The security cameras went off with it. Robin could have been anywhere at the time of the shooting."
"Convenient," Wright said. "That power would go off at exactly the right time to incriminate my client. Who, I remind you, was in this very room while the brakes on Maya Fey's car were being cut."
Wright looked around the room, gauging the faces of the onlookers, the Judge, and von Karma, and began to grow worried. They didn't seem to be convinced, and, in fact, many of them were growing skeptical by the looks of things. Beast Boy's statement that the shooter had a domino mask and spiky hair… it had been a miscalculation, Wright realized. He went over his notes one last time, and stood up.
Before he could speak, however, Franziska cut in."I believe we have seen all there is to see here. The facts of the case clearly point to Robin being the culprit, to the point that his identity is irrelevant. The only things that contradict the case as the prosecution states it are the faulty memories of a twelve year old child. A von Karma is, after all, perfect. Your Honor?"
The Judge sat back in his chair and closed his eyes, nodding. "You put up a convincing argument, Miss von Karma," he said. "And I am inclined to agree with you that this case is solved. However, I will grant Mr. Wright one last opportunity. Mr. Wright?"
Nick nodded. There was no way around it this time. He had to prove who killed Frank Newitt to prove that Robin didn't.
"Your Honor, the defense would like to indict Ted Bloominflaur for the charges against my client based on the evidence of the wire cutter in his pocket and the admission by Eddie that Ted told him that something would happen the night of the murder."
More chatter spread through the courtroom, as the bailiff escorted the young man down to the witness' chair. Theodore gave Nick a glare that might have chilled a demon as he took the seat. He removed his expensive-looking jacket and draped it over the back of his chair. The absence of the jacket revealed a sleeveless white vest underneath. On anyone else it might have looked effeminate, but Ted's muscles only stood out more with the jacket removed. A peculiar birthmark zigzagged down his right bicep.
"Please state your name, age, and occupation," said the Judge.
"The name is Theodore Bloominflaur, twenty-two years old," he replied tersely. "And I am a night clerk at a hotel in Jump City." Before any more words could be had by anyone, Ted turned to Nick. "This effrontery to the Bloominflaur name will not be quickly forgotten. When you've lost this case, I swear to you that you will never work any case again. Ever."
"We'll see about that," Wright said. "Now, with the Judge's permission, I'll start my cross examination. I suppose my first and most obvious question is, what were you doing the night of the murder?"
"I was working out, if you must know," said Ted. "Our pittance of an apartment is lacking in space, so I cannot store any exercise equipment there. I went for a late-night workout session before heading off to my job."
"And where exactly do you work?" Wright asked.
Ted sighed and rubbed his temple. "I work what you common folk might call the graveyard shift at a rather posh hotel, the Thaddeus Jump Inn. It's on the north side of Jump City, and many miles away from my house."
"You're saying it would have been impossible for you to return after your workout and still make it to your place of business on time?" Nick asked. He thought he knew where he was going, but he needed to make certain he had the witness' story straight before he could tear it apart.
"Most impossible," Ted confirmed. "My shift begins at ten thirty; I scarcely had time to shower after lifting weights."
"I'm sorry to be skeptical," Nick said. "However I also must ask if you have proof of this alibi. Somehow I doubt it."
"Objection, Your Honor!" cried von Karma. "The prosecution would like to call your attention to this evidence." Franziska removed a small piece of paper from the court record. "This receipt confirms the witness' alibi; he purchased a mocha-pineapple flavored energy drink on the night of the murder at 10:04 PM. Which would have been barely minutes AFTER the murder."
"Objection!" Nick called back. "How can you prove it's even Ted's receipt? Anybody could have bought that drink!" Wright had no idea where that objection had come from, but he felt it bore mentioning.
"You are incorrect, Mr. Phoenix Wright," Franziska said. "This receipt was signed by the defendant himself, as he charged the drink to his account tab at the health club."
Wright muttered a curse under his breath and stepped back. He began stroking his chin, because in his gut he knew something was wrong with this picture. The pieces were beginning to fall into place, yes. Ted Bloominflaur had just made a critical error. The problem was, Wright wasn't ready to spring the trap yet.
"Is there anything wrong with the evidence?" asked von Karma. "Do you wish for us to test handwriting to verify that it is, indeed, Ted's signature?"
"No." Nick scratched his head and forced a chuckle. He was trying to act as though his case had fallen apart. "That's not necessary," Nick finally said. "The defense has no objections to this evidence." Well, except the one I'm going to spring later.
"If you're through making a buffoon of yourself," Ted interjected, "Then may we please continue? I'm growing rather irritable."
"Why is that?" Wright asked, venturing a guess primarily based on the way Ted was dressed.
"I just returned from my work out today," he said. "And I generally get quite tired and irritable after it. Hence the need for energy drinks."
"Yes, I get that, but it's the middle of the day. Why did you not go at night like you normally do?" Nick crossed his fingers and hoped it wasn't a wild goose chase.
It was. "The club closes early on Fridays," said Ted as though that were the most obvious thing in the world.
Wright blinked and stared at the witness, nonplussed. Well that didn't help me at all.
Nick decided that he'd dive on into the actual evidence. "Can you please explain to me why you had wire cutters in your pocket yesterday, shortly before my brakes were sabotaged?"
"I should sue you for slander," Ted snapped. "Prove to me that Cyborg didn't fake that photo to intimidate me."
"I think the burden of proof is on you, this time," said the Judge.
"None the less," said Wright, "I can prove at least that Cyborg had no motive. The scan he took of you was taken almost two hours before the wreck, and not modified at all. The digital file submitted for the court's approval should verify my claim. Cyborg would have had no reason to fake evidence before he knew the brakes would be cut!"
Ted Bloominflaur reeled, gritting his teeth at Wright, tugging at his shirt for a moment before trying to regain his composure. "You... little whelp."
Nick slammed his right hand against his desk. "Mr. Bloominflaur, why did you have a wire cutter in your pocket yesterday!?"
Ted tugged on his shirt again. "I don't know..." he said... "I don't remember having a wire cutter... I simply.. found it in my pocket when I got home last night.. I perhaps was framed. Yes, framed by the real killer—Robin, of course."
"Very smooth, if inelegant," said Franziska. "The prosecution contends that the defendant, although unintelligent, is not lying. First and foremost, the defendant has no motive to murder Frank Newitt. He is but a simple night clerk." Franziska took an elaborate bow, and smiled at the Judge. "There is nothing in the defense's claims. Nothing at all."
Ted sneered at the use of the word simple, but nodded in agreement.
"Miss von Karma," Wright said, smirking. "I know you're better than this. Did you not notice this evidence submitted yesterday?" Nick held up a small piece of paper, the words of a dead man scribbled across it. Nick read it aloud.
Nightwing; If you're reading this and I'm dead... Blackjack. 10-20-04.
Von Karma arched an eyebrow. "What does this mean? What is this?"
"This sheet of paper was found in the apartment of the defendant," Wright said. "The day after the murder. If nothing else it establishes that the defendant was not only suspecting he'd be murdered, but had an idea of who the murderer would be."
Von Karma gasped, as if suddenly realizing something important.
Wright smirked at her. "Nightwing is a vigilante from the city of Bludhaven, New Jersey—but more importantly, he's the first Robin."
The Judge goggled. "Good heavens, there's more than one!"
"Of course, there are," von Karma spat. "You didn't think the same child remained a teenager for the past twenty years, did you Your Honor? Nightwing is most likely Dick—"
"Who Nightwing may or may not be is irrelevant," Wright interrupted. "The point of this is that this hand-writing-verified sample from Frank Newitt identified a former ally of Batman as not someone to be feared, but someone to be trusted. And the party that commissioned his murder as person or entity known as Blackjack. Or perhaps simply a black Jack— of the Royal Flush Gang."
Wright pulled out all the data the Titans had collected on past incarnations of the Royal Flush Gang, and included both Yin's drawings and Starfire, Raven, and Maya's description of the mysterious assailant named Ten that had been in Frank Newitt's office. The court began murmuring loudly at the accusations, clearly some of them finally being persuaded.
"We've established several things," Nick said. "That at least one probable member of the Royal Flush Gang is in Jump City, that the group usually operates in five members, and that regarding Robin's identity, Frank Newitt—didn't 'know it' at all. The evidence on his computer would have easily been forged, especially if this murder has been in the planning for more than four years. The data on the Titan's computer showing that Robin was following Frank Newitt has been proven a forgery because Robin wasn't on Earth. And instead of looking into the known supervillain found in the office of the victim, this prosecution has focused on scapegoating one of the town's greatest heroes."
"Are you accusing me of being this Black-Jack?" Ted Bloominflaur demanded. "Are you saying that I'm the supervillain that stole Robin's bo-staff and framed him for a murder he obviously committed?"
"Pretty much," Wright smiled.
"This is an outrage!" Ted began shaking, his teeth beginning to chatter. "The Bloominflaurs—"
"Have nothing to be so haughty about," Wright interrupted. "You moved here from Opal City five years ago, modified a few apartments into a single penthouse and all took menial jobs! You're a night clerk for crying out loud."
By this point Ted Bloominflaur was seething, his face practically read. "You stand there and accuse me when I have an iron-clad alibi. You insult me, and through them my sister and parents. You insult my very family! I should have you run out of town for this!"
Wright was unnerved by Ted's anger, but still managed to crack a quip mentally. I don't even live in Jump City—if you run me out of town I'd just go home!
The gavel came down, and the Judge cleared his throat loudly. "Enough of this nonsense, Mr. Wright. As the defendant points out, he has an iron-clad alibi with the receipt. Mr. Wright, you will be severely penalized if you do not point out a legitimate problem with this alibi. Is there anything wrong with this receipt?"
Great job, Nick, now the Judge is against you once again. Nonetheless, there's a huge problem here that needs addressing. "In fact your, honor, there is a problem."
"What?!" von Karma blinked. "The receipt is confirmed to be his handwriting."
"The problem isn't the receipt itself," Nick said. "The problem is the very fact that it's evidence in this case."
For the first time, the visible recognition that she'd made a mistake was evident in Franziska's face. Her pupils seemed to shrink even as her big anime eyes widened—and Wright asked his question. "Miss von Karma, when and why were you given that receipt."
She gritted her teeth and answered through obvious anger. "Ted Bloominflaur gave it to me yesterday afternoon in case he needed an alibi."
"And I only decided that he should be called to testify late last night," Wright said. "This wasn't made public until this morning. Ted had no reason to believe he'd fall under suspicion—unless he thought that he'd be called to the stand!"
"That's not fair!" Ted spat. He stammered for a moment, tugging at his shirt until he glared at Nick once again."A murder happened near my house—of course I'd want an alibi!"
"Your Honor, ignoring the fact that I met Mr. Theodore Bloominflaur after the first day of trial in which he seemed entirely unconcerned about the murder, the nature of the evidence is implausible! The receipt is for almost the exact time of the murder as depicted on the photographs submitted by his younger brother—photographs that Ted instructed Eddie to take, if you'll remember. Why would Ted even keep the receipt? It seems unlikely that he'd suddenly produce it three days after the fact unless he knew it would provide a convenient alibi, especially if he went to work immediately after leaving the fitness club. Everything—everything in this case implicating Robin reeks of a convenience all-too-precise and meticulous be real, Your Honor. The evidence against him is entirely manufactured."
"You insufferable cur!" Ted spat. "I AM EDWARD BLOOMINFLAUR! YOU DO NOT ACCUSE ME OF MURDER WITH IMPUNITY!"
Gasps echoed throughout the courtroom, and Wright saw young Eddie turn pale as a ghost, his parents Harold and Elizabeth both burying their faces in their hands. Wait, what? He is Edward? If he's Edward then who is Theodore?
Von Karma stared blankly at Ted for a moment, then regarded him with an expression that Nick could only describe as revulsion. "You got your own name wrong," she spat "You are a disgrace to your family and should consider calming down before my whip finds its way to your stand!" She cracked it in her hands to add emphasis.
Franziska turned and glanced at Nick, hiding a tide of black fury behind her arrogant smile. "And you, Mr. Phoenix Wright, continue to ignore the one thing that your case hinges on ignoring." She brought out the photos of Robin stabbing into Frank Newitt's chest, and once again, Nick's stomach sank to his feet... the Judge was tired of the case, and the photos before him seemed to make the ruling entirely obvious.
"All the logic and circular reasoning in the world cannot remove the fact that Robin was photographed stabbing the defendant himself," said von Karma. "These photos were taken directly from the camera, and happened in this order by the time stamps that would be impossible to change in the measly seconds between what they depicted. In other words, everything you've attempted was all for nothing."
Nick practically fell back into his chair, sweat rolling down his face as his mind race to find some logical way to dismiss the photos. His heart kept resting on the idea that Robin wouldn't run as soon as he saw the flash in the first photo. His mind kept reminding him the time stamps told the opposite story. If Robin was pulling the staff out...
"Figured it out yet, Wright?"
Nick goggled and turned to where Pearl had sat, neglected most of the trial, and found not the young girl but a beautiful woman instead. (And if Mia Fey's cleavage could be described as bursting from Maya's costume, it was outright exploding from Pearl's tiny outfit!)...
"Chief!" he gasped. "You.. know what happened?"
"Help from beyond the grave can only go so far, Wright," she said with a sadness in her voice. "This is your case to win. You'll just have to think outside the box. You know Robin is innocent. Prove it. Use what you know about the case and about the Bloominflaurs and prove it."
Nick leaned over the photos, practically burying his face in them as he scanned them. He looked at the Time Warp Theatre clock in the background, but it was too blurred in the background to be of any help...
And then he traced the light it cast on the defendant and the victim, drawing how light hit the roof of the restaurant where the murder occurred in his mind, tracing it with his finger.
And then, it hit him with all the subtlety of John Henry Iron's atomic hammer.
"Your Honor," Wright said standing up as the Judge began to take a sip of coffee. "The defense contests that these photos were faked..."
I cannot believe I'm about to argue this.
"...using... TIME TRAVEL!"
The British Judge leaned forward, almost dropping his mug as he spat coffee all over the floor in front of his esteemed bench Half the court began laughing, the other half sitting in stunned silence, including the legally-adult Bloominflaur family members. Jasmine sat impassive, but little Eddie was even whiter than he had been before.
"MY WORD!" the Judge cried. "Are you seriously arguing that a theoretical science was actually used in this case—in a non-theoretical manner!?"
"I'm finding it hard to believe myself," Wright said.
"That's because it's a foolishly foolish idea only considered in the vague dreams of foolhardy fools!" Von Karma ranted, her face a mask of rage. "This is... this is... FOOLISH!"
"Your Honor, I would not make such an argument lightly," Wright said.
Robin stood up, as if he finally had something to say in his own defense. What came out was unexpected."Your Honor," Robin began, before shifting to a dead pan tone. "Time travel doesn't surprise me in the least. The Justice League Member 'Booster Gold' is reportedly from the twenty-fourth century. Supergirl, a former heroine and cousin to Superman, departed this time two years ago for the thirtieth century." He took a breath before continuing. "Batman himself has literally seen the dawn of Creation. And the Titans have fought a time-traveling villain known as Warp, who took Starfire twenty years in the future. All of this is on public record... well, except for Batman seeing the dawn of time."
Von Karma's whip lashed out one last time, slamming into the arm of the Boy Wonder, wrapping around his glove until he jerked it away with a solid yank. "I warned you," he spat. "Don't. Do. That."
He uncoiled it from his arm and tossed it back towards Franziska—but overshot her.
"Oops, I botched my throw. Silly me," Robin said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
His aim was spot on, as Starfire reached out and caught the whip... then disintegrated it in a ball of green star fire. She blinked for a moment, then gave an enormous and obviously fake smile. "Oops, it seems that I have destroyed your instrument of hurting. Silly me."
"This is... absurd!" Ted cried. "You can't prove it, even if it weren't!"
Wright shook his head. "I can at least prove that the photos are fake, finally. Or rather, their order of being taken was faked. Notice the red light cast by the sign in the background. Despite it's glowing red neon nature, the Time Warp Theatre sign is a functioning clock, and the patterns cast on the victim and defendant, show that time ticks backwards between the first and second photo." Nick slammed his hands down on the desk. "In other words, ROBIN WAS PULLING THE STAFF OUT OF FRANK NEWITT'S CHEST, JUST AS HE CLAIMED FROM THE START!"
Murmurs erupted throughout the courtroom, as the Judge examined the photo. "Good heavens, you're right, Wright!"
"NO! This is impossible! My case was flawless," von Karma spat. "You must have corroborating evidence or this entire exercise is pointless. Time travel backwards through time has been stated to be impossible by great men such as Einstein and not foolish fools like yourself and this foolish boy in a robin suit!"
Robin tilted his head in annoyance, and spoke again in the same deadpan voice from before. "Yeah, and I'd think that prosecutors assaulting their witnesses with a weapon in the middle of a court would have some consequences. Live and learn, huh, Miss Belmont?"
"What did you call me?" Franziska asked, arching an eyebrow. She clearly didn't get the reference.
"Nothing," Robin said. Wright was beginning to suspect he was fed up with the proceedings.
"You spoke words, but you are right in admitting that they are nothing. Without corroborating evidence that the Bloominflaurs are time travelers, I demand the Judge strike this entire foolish tangent from the court record!"
Wright blinked, and glanced at his case file once again. The globe...?
No, that won't work. That was Frank Newitt's globe. Nick buried his chin in his hand and began thinking. There has to be something else, some evidence proving it—or a logical inconsistency...
"You can do this, Nick. Reason it through," said Mia.
"Of course!" Nick shouted. "The defense would ask that Eddie Bloominflaur would be brought down to the trial floor."
"Leave my little boy out of this!" snarled Elizabeth Bloominflaur from the audience. He has nothing to do with this case!"
"He was an eye witness!" Nick cried back in shock.
After a few more harsh words, Eddie Bloominflaur came down, and the entire family was now sweating bullets. Eddie just looked terrified, however, his skin at least as pale as it had been before, perhaps more so.
"W..what are you gonna do to me? You're not going to cut me and see if the cut appears on... On, Ted, are you? Please don't do this, I'll bleed all over the court and then you'll have to take your suit to the dry cleaners to get the blood out and they'll screw it up and you'll sue them for fiftysevenmillion dollars and make a bigger mockery of the legal justice system than we already have and..." Eddie sobbed, falling to his knees as the court stared at him.
"Excuse me!?" the Judge gasped."You weren't really going to inflict a wound on this child, were you Mr. Wright?"
"Of course not!" Wright answered. "I'm not nearly that sadistic. The prosecutor might ask something like that, though."
Franziska harrumphed.
"What do you want me to do?" Eddie asked with a sniffle.
Nick indicated the sweater the boy was wearing. "Take it off. Show us your right arm."
Shuddering, the boy complied, through the parents protested so loudly the bailiff had to threaten the use of force to quiet them...
The sweater came off, and Wright rolled up Eddie's right sleeve underneath... And there on his arm was a birthmark, identical to the one on Ted Bloominflaur's arm.
"Your Honor, as ridiculous as this sounds, Eddie Bloominflaur and his older 'brother' are the same person!" Wright stood back and waited for the court to react. But no reaction came, only silence...
"What... just happened here?" Franziska asked, staring at the young boy.
"I believe that I just destroyed your case," Nick said. He cocked his head to the side and glanced over at Robin, then up at Starfire, then down at the ashes of the prosecutor's whip on the floor. He grinned. "Silly me."
"But what motive would time travelers have for murdering a journeyman like Frank Newitt? He's nobody.""On the contrary," Wright said. "I can't begin to guess their specific motive, but I have a good hint it has something to do with this."
Wright held up the photo of the globe they'd found in Frank's office, and pointed to the Persian Gulf. "Notice on this globe, the former property of the victim," Nick began. In the middle East he pointed to small nation labeled the Republic of Kandaq. "Here."
"I've heard of Kandaq," von Karma said. "What's the problem?"
"The problem should be obvious to anyone who knows a thing about politics!" Wright said. "Kandaq is not and never has been a republic. They've never even pretended to be. Even now it's ruled by harsh dictator known as Teth-Adam, a radical nut case who worships the Egyptian pantheon." "You're saying..." the Judge realized out loud.. "That Frank Newitt was also from the future!" Wright said. "And that in the future, he knew, not the Nightwing of this time, but the Nightwing of the FUTURE—the hero currently known as Robin."
Von Karma gave a bitter laugh and sat down in her chair. "Once again, Mr. Phoenix Wright. Once again you put out a foolish argument that only a fool would make. And once again it somehow defeats my perfect case."
Nick glanced over at Ted Bloominflaur whose face was seething red. "You're Edward. The Black Jack," Wright said. "That's why Eddie said that he was the murderer on the first day, and why you got your name wrong earlier. Like the Senator Ted Kennedy, your name isn't short for Theodore. It's short for Edward."
"DAAAAAAAAAMMMMNNNN." Cyborg said in the audience. "Why didn't any of us think of that?"
Raven glanced over at the mechanical Teen. "That's why he's the lawyer and we're the superheroes."
"It didn't have to be this way," Ted said from his bench."It was supposed to go smoothly. You were supposed to fall for it, and Robin would go to jail. We'd get rid if that traitor Frank Newitt—and our mortal enemy, the future Nightwing, with one swift blow."
"Good heavens, he confessed!" The Judge said.
"There are fifteen hundred ways I could have killed you today," Ted said. "A million ways I could have used my time travel device to cripple you both. But something is interfering with the technology. Did you know that? The only reason you're not a dead two year old in a coffin in some forgotten cemetery is because something's wrong with our technology."
Von Karma blinked, and for a moment, Nick thought she'd pass out, but instead she just glared at him angrily.
Ted reached down and tapped a button on his belt...
And a massive red flash exploded from around him, sending the witness stand flying; when it vanished Ted Bloominflaur was no more. Instead he was Jack of the Royal Flush Gang, a red domino mask, black body suit, and the J symbol of his card emblazoned on his shoulder.
"Enough of this," came a voice from the audience. Elizabeth, Harold, and little Jasmine all leaped down from their stand and landed in the middle of the court room.
"Listen to me, this is a mockery of justice!" cried the Judge. "Supervillains—especially those from the future—are not allowed in this Court of Law except in chains!"
Flashes of light consumed Harold and Elizabeth, and when they were gone, the middle aged couple was gone. In their places were King and Queen.
Wright stared at little Jasmine, his heart growing sour when he realized what was coming. To his surprise, it wasn't exactly what he expected The girl's head literally opened up, peeling back like a banana to reveal a small floating orb, metallic and covered in propulsion units—among other computerized wonders—inside.
"Great Scott! She's a robot!" someone in the audience shouted. "This is heavy!"
The orb glowed with a white brilliance, and that light coalesced into the form of a sixteen year old girl. "Ten." Wright said. "You were the one in Newitt's office."
"He catches on quickly, mother," she said. "I shall enjoy tearing out his vocal cords."
Queen glanced down at her younger son. "It's time, child. You remember how we told you of what Robin made us suffer in the future? Transform. Show them who you really are."
Little Eddie gulped and did so. Red light consumed him, and Eddie transformed into a tiny parody of his older brother, the Jack emblem emblazoned onto his shoulder in the same manner. The only difference was a jet pack that lifted the younger version off the ground.
Blackness surrounded the Royal Flush Gang and sent them flying backwards into the wall of the courtroom, even as Raven, Cyborg, Starfire, Ragnarök, and Yin phased through the ground. Beast Boy appeared behind them in the form of a snake. "Besst thing about this speciessss," he said. "No shoulderssss for the bullet woundssss to carry over to."
The assembled heroes and villains immediately exploded into action, and Wright, Mia, and Franziska had to run towards the Judge's bench as the Titans and Royal Flush Gang began smashing everything in sight. The battle continued, smashing through the wall and out into the Foyer, then out into the city streets beyond.
"Incredible!" the Judge shouted.
"Sir, the verdict!" Nick shouted.
"Oh, yes, of course," he said. "On the charge of Murder in the First Degree, this court finds the defendant, Mr. Robin of the Teen Titans..."
NOT GUILTY
A cheer erupted throughout the courtroom, confetti flying everywhere as the gavel came down.
Robin darted over, flicking his wrists and instantly dropping the handcuffs to the ground.
"How did you do that!?" Maya cried, appearing next to them.
"For the record," Robin responded, "I could have escaped at fifty-seven different opportunities during my incarceration."
"Wow!"
Robin turned, running towards the battle out side. Nick followed him, and as they got to the steps of the damaged courthouse, the Titans looked p and saw their leader, letting out a cheer.
Cyborg glanced back, smashing Ten into a car and then pulling a small yellow object from a compartment on his side. He tossed it to Robin, who caught it with one hand—his utility belt—and slung it around his waist, fastening it with the buckle. He pulled a little metal canister and slung it; it deployed into his trademark bo-staff.
"I've been waiting three days to say this." Robin smirked. "TITANS... GO!"