Edgeworth was ready to listen to Franziska's argument. As long as he knew they were on the same side, he had nothing to fear.

Argument

Why Malcom Bush is guilty

It's obvious Malcom Bush is the killer. Your own logic proves it.

The scarf proves his crime. He was pretending to be the victim.

He had the key to the switch and easy access to it.

He was at the door to welcome guests so everyone would remember him.

As soon as the chandelier began to fall, he made sure to jump aside.

He hid underneath the table and waited for the people to evacuate before getting out.

He moved the body under the chandelier and planted the scarf near him.

"Hmmm. She does make good points." thought Edgeworth. "Granted, it is my own logic that led her here. However, there is one very big hole in the story. I know everything I've proven is correct, which creates the hole in the first place. And if I want to discover its meaning, I'll have to break through her argument."

"So, little brother, will you make a rebuttal?" asked Franziska. "Or are you already giving up?"

"Not at all. I am ready to respond."

"Great. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Rebuttal

Why Malcom Bush is guilty

It's obvious Malcom Bush is the killer. Your own logic proves it.

The scarf proves his crime. He was pretending to be the victim.

Hold it: "That is a separate crime. It doesn't automatically mean he is the killer."

"I know that. But it does make him suspicious. He has even refused to defend his actions. That leads me to one conclusion: he was doing it to throw off the victim's time of death and cover his tracks."

"Possibly. But if you want the case to stand in court and not fall apart, we should cover every single aspect of it."

"Then go ahead. I am right here for it."

He had the key to the switch and easy access to it.

Hold it: "So you believe that means he lowered the switch?"

"Obviously. Who else could it have been. He is the only possible suspect."

"Hmmm. Strange." thought Edgeworth. "This argument contradicts itself…and yet she hasn't noticed it? I'd expect more from her."

He was at the door to welcome guest so everyone would remember him.

As soon as the chandelier began to fall, he made sure to jump aside.

Objection

"So, you are conceding that he was at the main hall at the time?" asked Edgeworth. "And jumped aside to give the illusion of being killed by the chandelier?"

"Naturally."

"And he was the one who caused the chandelier to fall by pulling the switch?"

"Exactly."

"Hold on!" said Kay. "That doesn't make any sense!"

"Yeah, pal! Even I can tell that!" said Gumshoe.

"You two be quiet!" said Franziska. "If my brother has a counterargument, I want to hear it from him."

"Very well. If Mr. Bush was pretending to be the victim at the main hall, as the evidence is suggesting…he couldn't possibly have caused he chandelier to fall!"

"Good point." said Franziska. "But that won't be enough. Maybe he had a chance to tamper with it beforehand. Maybe he planted some device that automatically caused it to make the chandelier fall."

"Maybe." said Edgeworth. "But there is no proof of that. And besides, I doubt he ever touched that level."

"And how do you propose to prove that?"

Right then, a member of forensics burst in.

"Sir! I have new evidence for you!"

"I got to say, that's impeccable timing." said Edgeworth. "What do you have for us?"

"We analyzed the fingerprints on the tray and the switch."

"And?"

"The fingerprints on the tray match those of Mr. Bush!"

"We already knew that." said Edgeworth. "But it's always good to have more evidence on hand. The switch?"

"We didn't know. There are unidentified right now. However, we can be sure they are not the same as the ones on the tray.

"There's your proof, Franziska!" said Edgeworth. "Mr. Bush never touched that level. At most, he was an accomplish. But he didn't kill Mr. Tory!"

Franziska didn't seem upset. In fact, she smiled.

"I'm glad to see you've figured that much out."

"Wait…you already knew?" asked Kay.

"Of course I did. You really think I'm that stupid. I knew Mr. Bush couldn't have pulled the switch. I just wanted to see how long it would take my little brother to get there. And you didn't disappoint."

"So you were testing me again?"

"Maybe I was. You said we have to make sure the case will not fall apart in court. The only way to do that is to ensure we have let every possible scenario play out."

"Impressive, sir!" said Gumshoe. "You are really good at this."

"Not just good. Perfect!" she said and whipped him.

"Ouch!"

"So then, what happens now?" asked Kay.

"It's obvious." said Franziska. "If this man was a mere accomplish…that means the actual killer was someone else."

"The real killer? And who is that, sir?" asked Gumshoe.

"Why are you asking me?" she asked. "Miles Edgeworth is the one making the claims here. He can tell us."

"Mr. Edgeworth, do you know who the real killer is?" asked Kay.

"I have a very good idea. I have no intention of making official accusations yet. However, I believe a person of interest we need to talk to…is Ms. Angel Flintson!"

"Why her?" asked Kay.

"She and Mr. Bush appear to be good friends. He said so himself. If he was willing to help someone cover up for murder…I'd say it's her."

"Hey, hey, hey!" said Malcom. "No, leave her out of this! You…you got it all wrong!"

"Wrong? I doubt it, Mr. Bush." said Edgeworth. "You were in the wrong, thinking you could cover her crime from us!"

"I…I just…I just wanted…"

"To help your friend." said Franziska "And if you really wanted to help her, you should have convinced her to turn herself in. Get leniency. And instead…you landed both her and yourself in more trouble."

"I'm begging you, Ms. von Karma. Try to understand!"

"I can't. Murder, no matter the circumstances is something I will never understand!"

"Where is, Ms. Flintson?" asked Edgeworth. "We just wish to talk with her."

"She…" he pointed to a door to the other side of the room. "Her dressing room is in there."

"Then that's where we're going."

"So, what happens to me?" asked Malcom.

"You are not getting away." said Edgeworth. "Detective Gumshoe, go find the other officers in the club. Hand him over to them and tell them to keep him under guard. We will figure out what to do with him later."

"Got it, sir! Come on, pal!"

As Gumshoe dragged Bush away, he said:

"You are wrong! Wrong! You are making a mistake!"

After the matter of Bush was arranged, Gumshoe came back and went into Flintson's dressing room with the others. It was a very nice room. It had all kinds of cosmetics, like lipsticks, powders and eyeliners. It looked exactly like any dressing room. The difference was at the right corner of the table, where there were writing supplies, like pens, pencils, rubbers and a bunch of envelopes and red stamps. She was there, looking at herself in front of the mirror She noticed them in the reflection and got up. She was holding a big green perfume bottle in the hands.

"Hello." she said. " Who may you be?"

"I am Miles Edgeworth, local prosecutor." said Edgeworth.

"I am Franziska von Karma, international prosecutor, working with Interpol."

"I am Dick, Gumshoe, homicide detective."

"And I am Kay Faraday, professional thief."

"Not professional." said Edgeworth. "At least not in that sense."

Flintson seemed to be more interested in Kay.

"Well, well…aren't you a very beautiful young woman."

"Thank you. You are very beautiful too. You are even prettier up close."

"Thank you. I appreciate it. If I may ask, why are you working with those people?"

"Well…They are pretty much my family." she said. "I have no one left to look after me. They are helping me when I need it…and in return, I try to assist them. To seek truth and justice."

Flintson seemed very moved.

"That shine in your eyes…I can tell you are passionate about this. And sorry for bringing this up."

"It's okay."

"So, what brings you here?"

"Ms. Flintson, we wish to speak with you about a matter of great urgency" said Edgeworth. "I assume you have heard the news of Mr. Tory's death?"

She sighed.

"Indeed. I…I didn't expect it to turn out like this. I mean…what happened?"

"That's what we want to know." said Franziska. "That's why we are here right now?"

"Wh…what are you suggesting?"

"Ms. Flintson, I would like you to testify about your movements after you left the stage earlier." said Edgeworth "Where did you go, what did you do?"

"Well…there is not much to say. I was here the whole time. I…"

"Please make a full testimony." said Franziska. "This is a crucial part of our investigation."

"Very well. I don't wish to hinder your progress."

Witness testimony

After the song

That was my first song yesterday. And unfortunately, the only one I managed to perform.

I went to my dressing room to get refreshed and prepare for my next song.

Suddenly, I heard a loud crashing noise.

Somebody came over and informed me about what happened.

I was terrified, so I stayed here the whole time. It's not like I wanted to hide or anything.

I have no idea how or why that happened

"I have a question" said Edgeworth. "How did you hear the chandelier fall? Isn't this room soundproof?"

"it normally is, but…I prefer to hear what is going outside." She pointed to a small window on the wall. You couldn't see anything because it was facing another wall "So I had them make this window so I can hear. I can't see anything, but sounds still come through there."

"Hmmm. I see. Very well, may I examine your testimony?"

"If you wish. I am not going to try to stop you. Do your job."

Cross-examination

After the song

That was my first song yesterday. And unfortunately the only one I managed to perform.

I went to my dressing room to get refreshed and prepare for my next song.

Suddenly, I heard a loud crashing noise.

Hold it: "Did you know what it was at the time?"

"No. I can hear through that window, but I have no way of seeing into the main hall through it. So, I was in the dark."

"But shouldn't you have figured it you? What else can make such a loud noise?"

"I…don't know. I didn't expect it would fall down. I mean, it's supposed to be really safe. We examine it every now and then."

"I understand. Keep going."

Somebody came over and informed me about what happened.

Hold it: "Who was it?"

"It was Malcom Bush, the waiter."

"He came to find you?"

"Yes. We are close friends. He wanted me to know what was going to happen. If he hadn't, I would have gone out to sing as per schedule and witnessed the accident myself. He knew my poor nerves couldn't take it."

"We believe Mr. Bush actually had involvement in the crime." said Franziska.

"What?! That….that's impossible! Malcom would never kill anyone!"

"We don't mean kill." said Edgeworth. "We think he tampered with the body and the crime scene after the fact. We think he was covering for the true culprit."

"And who would that be?"

"I…am not at liberty to divulge that information." said Edgeworth.

Flintson didn't seem to buy it. She game him a suspicious stare. "I see. Very well then. Let me finish."

I was terrified, so I stayed here the whole time. It's not like I wanted to hide or anything.

I have no idea how or why that happened.

Hold it: "In the attic there is a switch which can make the chandelier come down. Are you aware of that fact?"

"Y…yes. Of course I am."

"Did you know that if the switch was lowered too quickly, the chandelier would fall down quickly?" asked Franziska.

"I…wasn't specifically told, but…I assumed that's how it would work."

"Have you ever been near that switch?" asked Edgeworth.

"Well…no. Not that I can remember."

"Then please add that to your testimony."

"Very well."

I have never been near that switch as far as I can recall.

Objection

"I'm afraid your claim just doesn't hold water." said Edgeworth. "After all, you left evidence behind!"

"I…I did?"

Edgeworth presented the blue piece of fabric he had found in the attic.

"This little piece of fabric was found in the attic. It had been caught to a nail. And, coincidentally, it seems to be a perfect match for the color of the dress you are currently wearing!"

"I…." Flintson started to sweat. She accidentally pressed the button of her perfume bottle too much and it sprayed perfume in her eyes.

"You went up to the attic, didn't you?" said Kay.

"I…don't misunderstand. "I mean, that color is similar to the one I'm wearing right now, but…you can't be sure it's the same."

"What do you mean?" asked Edgeworth.

"You see, look at my dress. There are no rips or holes in it!" she slowly made a full turn.

"She's right, sir." said Gumshoe. "No rips or tears to speak of."

"I admit that dress seems perfectly fine." said Franziska.

"Yes, But that is irrelevant." said Edgeworth.

"What do you mean?"

"There is another piece of evidence around here that can solve this contradiction."

"What is it?" asked Franziska.

"When I examined the closet in the next room earlier, one piece of clothing inside it stood out. It was a blue dress, just like this one."

"That would be…my spare one." said Flintson.

"Thank you for admitting it." said Edgeworth.

"Wait, what?!"

"That dress has a rip in it. Small, but noticeable. I'm willing to bet if we compared this piece with that dress' hole, it would match down to the last fiber! You were up there, Mr. Flintson! You pulled the switch to make the chandelier fall! And there's only one reason why you'd do that! To cover up your crime, the murder of Mark Terry Tory!"

"No! Wait, I…"

"Don't even try to deny it." said Franziska. "Your dress probably got ripped when you were up there. You needed to hide that fact, so you changed and put your spare one on! It all matches up!"

"And if there's even one hint of doubt…" said Edgeworth. "There are still those unidentified prints on the switch. We can just compare them to yours!"

Flintson quickly calmed down. She didn't seem worried.

"So what? You think that can prove anything?"

"What's that, pal?" asked Gumshoe.

"Now that I think about it…I remember pulling that switch once…a month ago."

"What?!" shouted Edgeworth.

"Yes. They wanted to clean it, so they asked me to pull the switch, since I was closer. That must be when my dress also got ripped."

"So it's been up there…for a month?!" asked Kay.

"I didn't realize until I got back. And I wasn't going to search the whole dusty attack for a small piece of fabric."

"She is lying, sir!" said Gumshoe. "She clearly did it!"

"Silence, scruffy!" said Franziska and whipped him "Settle down and let Miles Edgeworth handle this."

"Indeed. I believe this calls for another round." said Edgeworth. "Ms. Flintson, if you please."

"Fine!"

Argument

I was here the whole time

How could I have done it? I was here the whole time.

After the song ended, I came back here to get prepared.

I never left. I've been here all this time, until you arrived.

"So you never left this dressing room?" asked Edgeworth.

"No. Never."

"Can you prove?"

"No. But can you prove it didn't happen?"

"No."

"Looks like we're even."

"Very well. Let me make it clear: I doubt your testimony. And I intend to disprove through a rebuttal."

"Good luck. You are free to try."

"She is taking on a defiant attitude." thought Edgeworth. "Is this her true self? She definitely didn't strike me as so devious. Maybe there is nothing to excuse her actions after all."

Rebuttal

I was here the whole time

How could I have done it? I was here the whole time.

After the song ended, I came back here to get prepared.

I never left. I've been here all this time, until you arrived.

Objection

"I'm sorry, Ms. Flintson, but I'm not buying it."

"I don't care. My argument is you for you to buy. it's the truth."

"Then why do I have evidence to the contrary?"

"What?! You couldn't…"

"You are right. Normally, I shouldn't be holding this piece of evidence. But I got lucky." He took out the burnt-out pieces of paper

"W….where did you…no!" She sprayed her eyes with perfumes again.

"We found this in the fireplace in the next room. Somebody was trying to destroy them." said Edgeworth. "And judging from your reaction…I'd say it was you!"

"Now, hold on a minute! This is conjecture at best, argumentative at worst. How can you prove something like that?"

"With this!" he showed her the stamp that had been with the letters.

"Wh…what about it?"

"This stamp was along with the letters. They were posted with it. And, it's funny…I see a bunch of stamps just like this one over there on your tale!"

Gumshoe approached the table and took the stamps.

"Yes, sir! They are the exact same stamps! I see it now!"

"Thank you for that, scruffy." said Franziska. "If that fool can tell they are the same, a judge won't have much difficulty doing so. After all, it's clear as day."

"I'm not the only one who has these stamps. Maybe it was someone else!"

"In that case…" said Edgeworth. "The pieces that survived are quite big. Even if we can't tell what they say, we can check them for fingerprints!"

"I can get it done in no time, sir!" said Gumshoe.

"Wait! There's…no need to." said Flintson.

"Are you confessing?"

"Yes. I confess…to destroying those letters."

"What?!"

"They contained a lot of private information. I was afraid somebody was going to find them and use them to blackmail me. So, I destroyed them while I still could."

"That's an outright lie!" said Edgeworth. "What happened was the exact opposite! Mr. Tory did discover them! And he did try to blackmail you! That's why you killed him!"

"Jumping the gun again, are we?" she said. "How did I kill him?" With my bare hands? He was much bigger and stronger than me."

"Oh, you had your way." said Edgeworth.

"Really?!" she said in a clearly upset voice. "Then prove it, Mr. Smarty-pants!"

"You sound upset." said Edgeworth. "Are you getting afraid?"

"Afraid? Of course not! I have nothing to hide! Of course I'm upset! You barge in my dressing room and accuse me murder without any proof! Ridiculous! What kind of prosecutor are you?! Shame on you! You tarnish the name of your sacred profession!"

"He is the type who never gives up!" said Franziska. "So am I. So don't try to pressure us! We will never stop until the truth is out."

"Very well then. Give your best shot, Mr. Know-it-all! How did I kill him?!"

Edgeworth presented the photo of Flintson and Bush.

"It's right here."

"That's me and Malcom. What the hell does that prove?!"

"It proves something is wrong!

"Yes! Your stupid head!"

"Hey, you…" he quickly tried to recompose himself. "Anyway, the bottle you are holding in this photo is, according to Mr. Bush, your signature perfume bottle. You always carry it with you."

"The fool! Why did he have to…" he stopped herself, but it was too late.

"I'm afraid he isn't as competent as you." said Edgeworth. "But you too…you don't handle pressure well. That's on thing you have in common."

"So…what about the perfume bottle?" asked Franziska. "You didn't finish your argument."

"The one you are holding right now, Ms. Flintson, is clearly not the same one. In other words, you can't use the other one!"

"Why? You think I used it as a murder weapon?"

"It didn't even cross my mind." said Edgeworth. "How did you think of that?"

"Grrrrrrrr!"

"But now that you mention it…it does sound plausible."

"And logical." said Franziska.

"And fitting." said Kay.

"And not to mention…" said Flintson. "Unsubstantiated. Or are you planning to indict me based on nothing?! I carry a different bottle once and I get accused of murder?! If I knew this…I would never have called the other one my signature one!"

"Ms .Flintson." said Edgeworth. "If you talk now…"

"Alright, that's enough."

A voice interrupted them. The all turned around. Three people were standing there. It was Levertington, Hotshot and Oliver Lackie.

"I had forgotten about them." thought Edgeworth.

"What brings you here?" asked Kay.

"We were done with your bureaucratic matters." said Levertington. "So, we decided to check how your investigation was going. And as I can see…it's not going well."

"What's that supposed to mean, pal?" asked Gumshoe.

"My client means you are accusing the star of his club with no evidence." said Hotshot. "Quite unbecoming of you."

"Can you get away from here?" asked Franziska. "We are in the middle of an interrogation."

"Oh? I wasn't aware this dressing room doubled as an interrogation room." said Hotshot. "Interesting."

"What are you trying to say, Mr. Hotshot?" asked Edgeworth. "No need to beat around the bush."

"I'm saying your case is in shambles. No evidence, no witnesses, no confession, no motive. Your only hope lies in pressuring Mr. Flintson and getting her to slip up and say something wrong. What do you expect to accomplish here?"

"The motive lies in the letters we found." said Edgeworth and showed him the remnants."

"Hmmm. That's quite a piece of evidence." he said. "Quite…silly."

"What's that?" asked Oliver. "These pieces of paper are the evidence? Or the witnesses? And if they are the witnesses…did they hear he murder? Because hey don't have eyes."

"They have no ears either, Oliver! Be quiet!" said Levertington. "Mr. Edgeworth, I cannot allow you to defame my top star for no reason."

"Star or not, Mr. Levertington, we have reason to suspect her involvement."

"Mr. Levertington, allow me to handle this." said Hotshot. I'll give them an argument that they cannot refute. After that, they won't have the gall to arrest her."

"Good idea, Harold. Do that."

"Mr. Edgeworth? Are you ready to hear me out?"

"I am." said Edgeworth. "But please try not to waste time."

"I won't waste any time. I never do. Unlike you and your posse, who apparently have a lot of time on your hands."

"Just go ahead." said Edgeworth, trying to remain composed.

Argument

Ridiculous scenario

Mr. Edgeworth, it's unlike a prosecutor of your standing to make such ridiculous claims.

Mrs. Flintson killed Mr. Tory? Is that what you're saying?

How did she do it? What method did she use?

When did she do it? Where's the opportunity?

And most importantly, why? Where's the motive?

"So that's it?" asked Edgeworth. "I prove the when, the how and the why and we can arrest her?"

"I'm not making a deal with you! Her arrest will be determined only by storng evidence. We cannot gamble with people's lives. And if you do prove all those things…it had better be good!"

"Okay then. Let's get started."

Rebuttal

Mr. Edgeworth, it's unlike a prosecutor of your standing to make such ridiculous claims.

Mrs. Flintson killed Mr. Tory? Is that what you're saying

How did she do it? What method did she use?

Objection

"Mr. Hotshot, you haven't participated in the investigation." said Edgeworth. "It is natural for you to not be aware of the developments."

"I am pretty aware. We've been hearing you for quite some time."

"You were…eavesdropping?" asked Franziska.

"That's too harsh. Your officers told us we would found you here. We happened to hear your accusation before we entered the room and wanted to see how far you were willing to take this."

"In that case, you must know what the murder weapon must be."

"I don't know. Because you don't know either. You are just grasping at straws."

"I believe my reasoning is quite logical."

"Perhaps. But logic alone won't cut it. You need proof."

"Very well then." he turned to Gumshoe. "Detective, would you mind searching the room?"

"No. But…what for, sir?"

"Ms. Flintson hasn't had a chance to leave the club and properly dispose of the murder weapon. That means it must still be here."

Flintson started sweating at the sound of that.

"While the detective is searching, Mr. Hotshot, we can discuss the other two aspects of your argument.

"Gladly."

When did she do it? Where's the opportunity?

Objection.

"Mr. Hotshot, are you aware of mr. Bush's involvement in the crime?"

"Yes. Your officers filled us in on that."

"I can't believe it." said Levertington. "Malcom…a criminal? I just can't picture it!"

"It is a fact." said Edgeworth. "But he was just an accomplish. He was posing as the victim in the main hall at the time. Somebody else pulled the switch."

"And you believe that "somebody else" to be Ms. Flintson?" asked Hotshot."

"Of course. She was alone in here."

"Then were was Mr. Tory?"

"He was already dead by that time, of course. She had killed him, for whatever reason. Mr. Bush then came in here for a break. She confided in him and he agreed to help her cover it. Mr. Levertington, were there more waiters here?"

"No. Mark and Malcom were the only ones on duty tonight."

"In that case, Ms. Flintson is the only possible suspect."

"I really like the wording you used there, Mr. Edgeworth." said Hotshot ""For whatever reason." That brings me to my third point."

And most importantly, why? Where's the motive?

Objection

"I believe I already pointed that out. It had to do with those letters."

"But the letters have been burnt, Mr. Edgeworth. Even if Ms. Flintson was the one who burnt them, you can't know what was on them. Unless you are thinking of getting a witch to read the ashes for you."

"I don't need to know what they say."

"Pray tell, whatever do you mean?"

"You are a lawyer, mr. Hotshot. You know motive is not always required for a murder case. Many people have been arrested and convicted without their motive becoming clear."

"Yes. But that's not right, is it? Isn't it our purpose to scrutinize cases to their fullest extent?"

"Yes. But in the end, the court will decide if a motive is required or not. And it will not be needed in light of the evidence."

"What evidence are you talking about? I'd love to see it."

"Here it is, pal!" said Gumshoe. He triumphantly walked up to them and showed them the perfume bottle. It was cracked and had blood on it. "Here's a smoking gun!"

"Gun?! Where?!" asked Oliver and fell on the floor. "Don't shoot me!"

"Oliver!" said Levertington. "He means it figuratively, as in decisive evidence. Now get up and stop embarrassing yourself!"

"Sorry, boss."

"Well, Mr. Hotshot?" asked Edgeworth. "Do you have another argument? Or shall we here from the lady herself?"

Flintson was having a mental breakdown. She started spraying perfume all over her face.

"No…wait…you…you can't understand! I didn't…I wasn't…I….he found those letters! He was trying to blackmail me! I just…hit him! I didn't mean to! I just wanted to get the letters I grabbed them and burnt them. I…I didn't want to kill him! He fell down and…didn't move…I panicked. I ran in my dressing room .I was in a daze. I called Malcom. He arrived ten minutes later. We met in that room and came up with the plan. He told me he would do anything to keep me form getting wrapped up in this. I just…"

"I understand, Ms. Flintson." said Edgeworth. "However if he died in your hands…you must be punished."

"I know. I…I'm so sorry."

Righ then, officers brought Malcom in. He was wearing handcuffs. As soon as he saw Flintson, je tried to run to her, but the officers kept holding him.

"Angela!"

"Malcom!"

"What happened? I swear…I didn't tell them anything! I protected you, like I promised!"

"Don't worry about it. I knew I wasn't going to get away forever. It was bound to catch up with me eventually. It just happened sooner than I expected. Sorry for getting you involved in this. Please, Mr. Edgeworth. Take me! Malcom had nothing to do with it!"

"Don't try to make is sound like I'm not to blame!" said Malcom. "We did it together! I will not let you take the whole blame!"

"No! I'm to blame!" said Flintson. "I killed him. Please! Leave him alone!"

"What should we do?" asked Franziska. "They just keep trying to protect each other."

"That's for the courts to figure out." said Edgeworth. "They will hear the case and decide who needs to be punished. We have done our duty here. Nothing can change the outcome of this case anymore."

Right then, a member of the forensics walked in.

"Mr. Edgeworth, I have the final autopsy report. Sorry it took so long."

"Thank you for bringing it, officer." said Edgeworth. "But I don't think I'll need it now. The case is solved."

"It is?"

"Yes. Nevertheless, you can read it. Any new information is always welcome."

"Yes, sir. The report states the victim suffered a blow to the back of the head with a blunt object."

"See?" said Franziska. "That wraps up the case perfectly."

"Um…" the forensic seemed confused. "Don't you want to hear about the actual cause of death?"

"Wait…what?!"

"Wasn't he struck? You just said it, pal!" said Gumshoe.

"Yes. He was struck. But the most it would have done was given him a concussion. It wouldn't have left any permanent damage, let alone killed him."

"W…what are you saying?" asked Kay.

"The victim was struck, but most likely just passed out, The actual cause of death…was strangulation."

To be continued