A/N: Thank you to everyone who has read and commented on my story. It so lovely to read your feedback!
The prison guards were cold and unsmiling as Blackquill and Edgeworth passed through security.
"Here," a short man with 'Hendricks' on his shirt said as he handed them two small keys. "All metal objects, pens or other sharp items, electronic items including car key fobs, cellphones and laptops all have to be stored in a locker. No bags or briefcases either."
Miles nodded and began to place his personal effects into locker 212. Simon glared at Hendricks and then followed suit.
"Even I wasn't subject to such tight security," he commented. "What the Hell are they afraid of?"
"You'll see," Edgeworth said enigmatically. Hendricks directed them through a series of gated hallways, away from the main prison and into a wing Blackquill had believed closed.
"I thought they shut this place down," he said in a low voice.
"They did," Edgeworth said. "They reopened it just for this one prisoner."
"He's in solitary?"
"Effectively," Edgeworth said. There was a strained note to his voice, like barely suppressed anger. Blackquill looked at him in surprise, it was rare for the Chief Prosecutor to display such emotion.
Hendricks opened the last gate and escorted them into a dimly-lit hallway. The cells had open bars instead of walls, giving inmates no privacy whatsoever. CCTV cameras were placed strategically to ensure no blind spots existed anywhere. Only one cell showed any signs of life, and it was extraordinary, richly furnished and lined with books. The occupant looked up at the sound of their approach.
Blackquill had heard of Kristoph Gavin of course. The man had achieved almost mythical status amongst the other inmates at the State Penitentiary. Some believed him to have almost magical powers. He'd always scoffed at the idea, a good understanding of human psychology and a talent for manipulation could certainly seem like magic to the poorly educated. But now, stood here in front of the man, he felt a chill.
"Edgeworth," Kristoph said coolly, picking an invisible speck of lint from his immaculate pale gray suit. "How good of you to come."
"What do you want," Edgeworth said without preamble.
"Ah," Kristoph said sadly. "This is the society we live in now, no time for social niceties."
"You gave up the right to social niceties," Edgeworth snapped. "Get to the point." Blackquill stared at Edgeworth in surprise. Very few people were able to get under his skin. Wright was one who could of course, but that was in an entirely different way.
"Very well," Kristoph said. He only seemed to notice Blackquill at that moment. "I do see you brought a friend." Blackquill nodded at him but said nothing. "Tell me, Prosecutor Blackquill, do you miss the inside?"
Blackquill stiffened against his will. He did not want to give this man what he wanted.
"How did little Athena Cykes react to some of the things you did in here?" Kristoph wondered aloud. "The things you had to do to survive."
"Silence!" Blackquill barked and Edgeworth placed a restraining hand on his arm.
"For the last time, Gavin," he said evenly. "What do you want?"
"My execution is set for next week," Kristoph said blandly.
"I have no control over that," Edgeworth said crisply. "And you withdrew your last appeal, so there is nothing more that can be done. Your sentence is set. Your only hope to avoid the sentence so richly deserved, is that the Governor will show clemency. Alas, I believe she is quite firmly in favor of your execution, so I doubt you will be granted any last minute reprieve."
"No," Kristoph said icily. "I am not begging for my life. But I have a request and I hope you will grant it." Edgeworth gestured for him to continue. "I do not want my brother to witness it. Or Apollo Justice."
Edgeworth gaped at him. "Klavier's your only next of kin," he said in astonishment.
"Nevertheless, this is the only thing I ask. I shall go quietly to my end, if you will grant it."
Edgeworth narrowed his eyes at him. "And if I don't?"
"Then I will certainly restart my appeals. And perhaps I will sue the Department of Corrections while I'm at it. After all, enforced solitary confinement for a prisoner with an exemplary behavioral record is almost certainly unconstitutional. Perhaps the ACLU would be interested in my case."
"Dammit," Edgeworth swore. More appeals would definitely not be pleasant for anyone, least of all the three men at the center of Kristoph's web; Klavier, Wright and Justice.
Blackquill nudged him and he looked at him. "Ask him why," he said, so quietly Edgeworth could hardly hear him.
"Why?" he repeated and a slow, almost lascivious smile spread across Kristoph's face.
"Why?" He sauntered lazily over to the bars and gazed into Edgeworth's eyes. "He's my brother. And Justice was my protege, the closest thing I ever had to a son. I do not want them to see me like that."
"That's it?" Blackquill said in amazement.
"That's it," Kristoph confirmed. "It is not so very much to ask, is it?"
"It's your right to have whoever you want at the execution," Edgeworth told him. "Or not. So why am I really here?"
"Because I don't believe a simple prohibition will be enough to stop my brother," Kristoph said with a sigh. "So I'm asking you to help me figure out a way to make it impossible for him to attend."
Edgeworth stared at him for so long, even Blackquill started to get nervous. Then he nodded.
"Provided it is within my power, and legal, I will assist you."
"I want to petition to have my execution date moved up," Kristoph said. "But without my brother being notified of the change."
Blackquill shifted uneasily. That was the creepiest request he'd ever heard. Who on earth wants to bring their execution date closer?
"Very well," Edgeworth agreed. "As long as you have a recent psychological evaluation that says you are of sound mind, I will talk to the Warden and the Governor. Good day." With that, he turned on his heel and headed back down the hallway. Blackquill remained where he was.
"Feeling nostalgic?" Kristoph said mildly. "It's been a long time since I had any company. I could do with some… stress relief." His hands drifted to his belt and Blackquill backed away in revulsion. He swallowed hard and then went in pursuit of his boss.
Klavier noted with delight that Apollo's bicycle was propped against the house's boundary wall as he roared his motorcycle into the driveway. There were several lights on inside and he hoped that Apollo was the only one here. He was to be disappointed when Athena yanked open the door with a wide smile.
"Prosecutor Gavin!" she said delightedly.
"Athena, Athena," he said in mock exasperation. "When will you start calling me Klavier?"
She blushed prettily and from behind her Blackquill growled. Klavier laughed at him.
"Who else is here?" he asked.
"You're the last to arrive," Athena told him. "There's pizza on it's way and Mr Edgeworth brought beer and wine."
Klavier climbed off his bike and strode into the house. Everyone was sprawled on the enormous couches in the living room except for Wright, who was leaning against the wall and looking uncomfortable.
"Wright," he said, nodding to the man.
"Phoenix," the attorney corrected him. "Only Edgeworth calls me Wright."
From anyone else that might have sounded friendly, with Edgeworth the one being held at arms length. Klavier knew that was not the case here.
"Phoenix," he said easily. "How are you holding up?"
"I'm fine," he said. He looked at Klavier for a moment, and there was a hard look in his eyes. "You and Apollo are spending a lot of time together," he observed. All of Klavier's alarm bells started ringing.
"Ja, we have worked a number of cases," he said cautiously. Phoenix's eyes narrowed. "And I suppose we have seen each other outside of work too."
"Right," Phoenix said.
"Is there a specific concern you wish to address?" Klavier asked him.
"Apollo grew up in the care system," Phoenix said. "Children's homes, the occasional short term fostering that never turned into an adoption. So, I'm the closest thing he has to a parent."
"I see," Klavier said, who didn't.
"I don't think you do," Phoenix continued. "I can't tell Apollo who his friends should or shouldn't be. But I don't care to see him being toyed with."
"Toyed with?" Klavier repeated in confusion. "I'm not sure I understand you."
Phoenix sighed and was clearly resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Look, you're an international rock star, and a stellar prosecutor. You're good-looking, wealthy and I imagine you think an idle flirtation with Apollo is just a bit of fun. I'm here to tell you to back off. Don't make him another one of your conquests. Because when you've enjoyed yourself and moved on to the next one, I'm the one who'll have to pick up the pieces. I'm the one who'll have to deal with the low self-esteem and the doubts and the pain you'll inflict."
Klavier just stared at him, appalled and astonished. "Herr Wright, I uh… I think there's been some kind of misunderstanding."
"Of what?" Phoenix asked bluntly. "Of your behavior? Or your intentions?"
"Nein," Klavier choked. "Of Apollo's."
Now it was Phoenix's turn to look surprised. "How so?"
"I don't believe Apollo has any kind of interest in me," Klavier told him. "Not in the way you suggest. We're friends, and I'm grateful for his friendship. But there's nothing more to it than that."
"Really," Phoenix said, folding his arms across his chest. "And the flirting?"
"I did not say that I did not have an interest in him," Klavier said defensively. "But if you must know, I flirt with him because I enjoy seeing him flustered and you're right, that's a lot of fun. But it's just teasing. If I thought he…" Klavier broke off, an uncharacteristic flush spreading across his face. "I have no such hopes in that direction," he finished lamely.
He couldn't decipher the look on Phoenix's face. The attorney scrutinized him for a few, agonizing minutes and it was all he could do not to fidget under that steady gaze.
"Huh," he said finally.
"What does this mean, huh?" Klavier asked nervously.
"I apologize," Phoenix said. "I apparently got the wrong end of the stick. I thought you were attempting to seduce Apollo, that he'd be just another notch on your bed frame. I was wrong, and I'm sorry."
"Ja, well, I'm frequently misunderstood," Klavier said casually, to cover his confusion.
"I wonder," Phoenix said. "Maybe the person I should have been talking with was Apollo all along." Now utterly baffled, Klavier opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment Edgeworth appeared with the pizzas and the moment was gone.
After eating, Athena had sprung to her feet and announced her plan to brainstorm out the puzzle of the serial killer. Trucy sulked when Phoenix ordered her to bed, but there was no way he was having her take part in this discussion. Klavier dutifully fetched a dry-erase board the band had used for sketching out lyrics, snatches of riffs or planning set lists and placed it against one wall.
"OK," Athena said, writing the names of each of the victims and their cause of death on the board. "Mr Wright said he thought the victims were being targeted because the killer thought they had escaped justice. And for the first three victims, that makes sense. All three were accused of murder and acquitted. But Angel Starr and April May don't fit that pattern."
"Maybe they're not part of the case then," Apollo said, playing devil's advocate.
"If it was only one of them, then I'd agree with you," Athena replied. "We could just chalk it up to a horrible coincidence. But two individuals, both of whom with connections to Mr Wright, but not each other, both murdered within weeks of each other? That stretches coincidence to breaking point."
"Agreed," Simon said laconically.
"So, if the theory doesn't fit the facts, then assuming the facts aren't in question, we must modify our theory."
"That's sound," Edgeworth approved.
"So," Athena said, on a roll now. "If the killer isn't targeting people he thinks evaded justice, then how is he choosing his victims?"
"Or she," Apollo said.
"Or she," Athena agreed. "Given Apollo and Klavier's theory that the killer is using intermediaries to commit his or her crimes, there's no reason to suppose the killer is a man."
"I thought perhaps it might be simply hurting people that Wright had helped just to inflict pain," Edgeworth said. "But again, that doesn't explain April May or Angel Starr."
"What if Angel Starr and April May are outliers because they are outliers," Klavier said suddenly. Everyone turned to look at him, it was the first thing he'd said all evening.
"Helpful," Simon grunted. "Explain yourself."
"Angel Starr was a terrific detective," Klavier said. "Her disgrace and departure from the LAPD was a terrible shock at the time. She was in witness protection. What would cause her to return to LA, and run the risk of being found by the Joe Darke groupies who'd threatened her life?"
"I don't know," Edgeworth agreed. "Something big."
"And what if April May wasn't meant to be a victim, maybe she was supposed to be one of the puppets?"
"Well, in that case, who would the original intended victim be?" Phoenix objected.
"Isn't it obvious?" Klavier said. "Redd White."
"Redd White went to prison," Phoenix told him.
"Yes," Klavier agreed. "Where he served less than three years. For murder, that's lenient, don't you think?"
"I didn't know that," Phoenix said, eyes wide.
"He had the ear of the chief of police, the then governor of California, several congressmen and at least one senator," Edgeworth said tiredly. "He bargained his sentence down to ten years, I suspect blackmailed actually, then got out on good behavior during one of those occasional purges where they try to reduce the prison population to ease overcrowding."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Phoenix said, sounding betrayed.
"What difference would it have made?" Edgeworth said. "You couldn't have done anything about it. All it would have done is cause you pain. He was hit with a restraining order which means he wasn't supposed to come within 100 miles of you."
"A restraining order?" Phoenix said faintly.
"Yes. I had it filed on your behalf. I had serious concerns that White harbored ill-will towards you. I was able to convince the judge that your life was in danger."
"You should have told me," Phoenix said angrily. "You had no right to make decisions for me like that."
"If I had my time again, I would," Edgeworth agreed. "I'm sorry, Wright. It was arrogant and high-handed of me. But it was while you were disbarred, I was in Germany and I needed to move quickly."
The room was silent. Simon got up and stared at the board.
"So if Redd White was the intended victim, and April May set up to kill him, that would fit the original hypothesis, that the killer is targeting people he or she thinks escaped their due punishment. White turns the tables on May for whatever reason and beats her to death. An M.O. he definitely has form on. And we're saying Angel Starr only made herself a target because she was investigating the killer?"
"Or, the killer thinks her frame-up job on Joe Darke warranted a harsher punishment than she received." Phoenix suggested.
Simon shook his head. "That still doesn't explain what she was doing here in Los Angeles."
"It's you," Phoenix said to Edgeworth, who blinked. "The serial killer isn't targeting me. He's targeting you."
"Why do you say that?" Simon pounced.
"Angel Starr hates prosecutors. Despises them. What would convince her to come out of hiding? A chance to get her revenge on one her most hated foes." Phoenix said. "Miles, it has to be you."
"But why would the killer want to lure her here, only to kill her? Surely that idea only makes sense if Angel Starr was meant to be one of the puppets?" Klavier said.
Phoenix shook his head in frustration. "I know. But I feel like I'm on to something here."
"Let's call it a night," Edgeworth suggested. "It's late and we're all tired."
Phoenix cornered Miles in the kitchen as the prosecutor fixed himself a glass of water.
"What are you up to, Miles?"
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Miles said easily.
"Inviting Klavier Gavin to stay here with us. It was unnecessary and you know it," Phoenix hissed.
"It's his house," Miles pointed out. "I could hardly object. If you're worried about Trucy-"
"You damn well know it's not Trucy I'm worried about." Phoenix folded his arms and stared at his friend.
"Apollo," Miles said. Phoenix nodded. "He's an adult, Wright."
"Of course," Phoenix agreed. "And I know I'm biased against Gavins as well. I just don't want Apollo getting hurt."
"I think you're barking up the wrong tree," Miles said. "You're seeing what Klavier wants you to see rather than the truth."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Phoenix asked, an edge entering his voice.
"The rock star persona? Even his prosecutor persona? It's an act. It's not who he is, it's a facade to protect the real Klavier Gavin from a very cruel world."
"Cruel world?" Phoenix said derisively, "Oh, I'm sure being an international music sensation must be very unpleasant."
"Wright, this is unworthy of you," Miles said. "Klavier lost his parents when he was thirteen. He was raised by his brother. Kristoph was a cold and indifferent guardian but he was Klavier's whole world. And you and Justice sent him to Death Row."
"He's a murderer!" Phoenix gasped.
"I did not say it was undeserved. But Klavier is adrift. His adored brother turned out to be a monster. He was responsible destroying the career of a famous attorney, who turned out to be entirely innocent. The depths of Klavier's self-loathing are something to behold. I have worked patiently and diligently to hold him back from the brink. But I am neither a warm person nor someone Klavier can make a real connection with. Apollo, on the other hand, is close to Klavier in age and they trust each other."
"You're not selling this to me," Phoenix said grumpily. "You're painting a picture of someone who is remarkably damaged."
"Perhaps," Miles said. "But Apollo is the second-most loyal and trustworthy person I know. Klavier needs people in his life he can trust. Apollo will never betray him, sell his secrets to the gutter press or use him for his wealth and connections. For someone like Klavier, that's a rare and precious thing."
"All right, I'll stop running interference," Phoenix grumbled. A thought struck him. "Hey! What did you mean by the second-most trustworthy? Who's the first?"
Miles leaned forward and grasped his shoulder. "You, of course," he said into Phoenix's ear. Warmth spread across Phoenix's cheeks. "Goodnight, Wright."
Something was really eating at Klavier tonight, Apollo thought. The rock star had barely touched any of the food, and had been nursing the same beer for an hour. Simon and Athena had said goodnight to everyone and headed off to bed twenty minutes ago. Mr Wright and Mr Edgeworth were in the kitchen, talking quietly. Every so often, one of them would look over at him or at Klavier. Klavier didn't seem to notice, he just stared sightlessly at his fingers.
"Klavier?" he prompted gently.
"Ja," the prosecutor responded absently.
"Are you… OK?" Apollo asked. "You've been very quiet tonight."
Klavier looked up at him, his face curiously blank. "This case is getting to me, I think."
"OK," Apollo said. "Well, you know, if you need to talk…"
Klavier gave him a weak smile. "Thank you," he said simply. "I'm sorry, I think I need to go to bed." He rose and slipped out of the room. Apollo watched him leave.
Mr Edgeworth gripped Mr Wright's shoulder and said something in his ear. There was a dull flush across Mr Wright's cheeks. Apollo wondered what on earth the Chief Prosecutor could have said to cause such a reaction. Then Mr Edgeworth headed down the hall and Mr Wright came back into the living room.
"Time for bed, I think," he said.
"Yeah," Apollo agreed. He got up and noticed Mr Wright was watching him. "Is everything all right?"
"You and Klavier Gavin," Mr Wright said suddenly. Apollo squirmed. "What's the deal?"
"I don't know what you mean," Apollo said quickly. "We work well together in court. And we're friends. I think."
"Nothing else?" Mr Wright pressed and Apollo found himself blushing.
"N-N-No," he denied. Mr Wright raised one eyebrow and Apollo knew he was now as crimson as his suit. "It's nothing. A stupid crush. I don't want him to know, he'll only tease me endlessly about it. Anyway, I think he's in love with someone else."
Mr Wright was smiling at him, like he'd said something vastly amusing. "Who?"
"Ema Skye," Apollo blurted out. His throat hurt, like he'd yelled it at full volume.
"Ema Skye," Mr Wright repeated disbelievingly. "He doesn't strike me as a masochist."
"Anyone can suffer from unrequited love," Apollo said defensively. "The heart wants what it wants. Sometimes it's someone inappropriate."
"True," Mr Wright said bitterly. The tone shocked Apollo, it spoke of a wealth of experience of that particular pain. He regarded Apollo steadily. "Are you suffering from unrequited love, Apollo?"
Apollo couldn't breathe. Spots appeared in front on his eyes. "No," he managed. "I told you, it's just a stupid crush. Nothing more. He's not interested in me and he never will be. Why would he, he can have anyone he wants?"
"Except, according to you, Ema Skye," Mr Wright pointed out.
"Well OK, yeah. But that's not the point. I'm nothing. Nobody. Just an underpaid, overworked junior attorney. I'm not glamorous or interesting or even all that good-looking." Apollo couldn't look at Mr Wright any longer and dropped his gaze to the floor.
"You sell yourself far too short," Mr Wright said, squeezing his shoulder. "I've told you this before. And if Klavier Gavin can't see all your good qualities, then he's not worthy of your love anyway."
"Please stop talking like that," Apollo begged. "I told you, I'm not… in… love… with…" he broke off, unable to finish the sentence he had the horrible feeling was an outright lie.
"OK," Mr Wright said, relenting. "I've tortured you enough. Just think about what you're doing, Apollo. I've seen you two together. I don't want you getting hurt."
"He flirts with everyone," Apollo said grumpily. "I wouldn't read anything into it."
"Maybe," Mr Wright said. "But maybe you're giving off the wrong signals too."
Apollo gaped at him. "What do you mean?"
"Just think about what I've said," Mr Wright said enigmatically.
