Hello all! Mind Jack here! It's been a long time!
Despite not really posting here, I haven't been idle. Been working on stuff for another site. But it's good to be back!
I don't want to ramble on, so I'll pass the mic to Berserker88 in the non-bold italics for the rest of the author's note.
At long last, after numerous teasers and art postings, Badge & O'Possum is finally here! We hope there are no objections.
This author's note is gonna be a bit long, but there are a few things we should clarify right away. First of all, while this story IS technically a part of the BtBW-verse, it's not a part of the BtBW storyline. It's mainly written to be enjoyed as its own thing for Zootopia and Ace Attorney fans without requiring knowledge of a huge forty-chapter longfic to do so. Any references to such will be reintroduced accordingly, since these guys weren't exactly involved with all that anyway. (For those curious though, this takes place during that big nine-month timeskip between BtBW and TDSotM.)
Second of all, and we feel compelled to make this disclaimer now only because of some comments on "Nick Wilde: Ace Attorney", the world of Ace Attorney is very much NOT meant to resemble the actual American court system. It's a parody of the Japanese court system, and this itself is a parody of that, attempting to faithfully recreate the style and mechanics of the series. If you are picturing this in full visual novel format complete with music, we have done our jobs right.
Lastly, we have a sort of unique updating schedule for this thing. Due to how intricate it can be to write Ace Attorney-style cases, we've decided to steer around potential plot holes by writing each entire case before publishing any of it. Which means that by the time you're reading this, all of Episode 1 has already been written, and will be posted weekly until finished before moving on to the next case. The result will be long gaps between each case, but only a short wait between individual chapters of it, which we hope is a good trade-off.
We'd like to thank Ficta Scriptor for their amazing beta reading.
That should be all for now. Let's get legal!
Episode 1: Turnabout Da Capo
Part 1: Free Parking, Detained Polecat
Detective Bea F. Wellington was in a great mood as she strolled into the ZPD Precinct 1 parking garage. The pierced heifer had a bit of a goth style and didn't really resemble her fellow officers. Part of her great mood was that she hadn't gotten in trouble for her new nose ring. Rebellion successful!
The parking garage was both quiet and remarkably dark, even with the lights on. It was enough to make a less brave and adventurous soul quake in their proverbial boots. Not her though!
But as her stroll took her further down, she became aware of some odd noises: Shuffling, the clanking of metal, and a voice muttering.
She had to blink a few times when she found the source, making out the shape of a car in the darkness. "What's going on over there?"
"..."
Unfortunately, much of the ensuing confrontation was also lost to darkness.
"A troublemaker, huh? Not on my watch!"
"..."
"Hey, what's that you've got there? Did you steal that?!"
"..."
"That ice pick is valuable police property! I don't care what your reasons are, I'm not letting you take it!"
"..."
Bea's eyes widened. She tried to back away. "H-Hey! Wait! N-No!
But before she could run…
VROOOOM!
ZAP!
And the darkness claimed one more.
June 28th, 10:18 AM
Zootopian Central Courthouse - Defendant Lobby No. 3
Eric Badge was having a panic attack, in his own way.
The portly twentysomething badger was examining his reflection in the glass of a painting on the courthouse wall, ensuring multiple times that his striped, black-and-white fur was in perfect order, and that his royal blue suit hadn't been ruined in some imperceptible way by a cheap dry cleaner.
He did his best to control his breathing. (Stiff upper lip. Just because you've never done this before, that doesn't mean you'll fail utterly and ruin your friend's life.)
His panic wasn't helped by the commotion currently unfolding behind him. "Delilah, will you please stop that?"
Delilah O'Possum could not have been more his opposite. Her silver fur and the black on her ears still had traces of bedhead. Her black trench coat was wrinkled, and smelled faintly of something that didn't belong in a courtroom.
Most notably, she was now wiggling her backside against a vending machine door. "Almost... got it!" Her pink prehensile tail emerged, holding a pilfered bag of Zoorito chips.
Eric wasn't nearly as impressed by this as most of their peers at law school. "Is now really the time for petty theft? We're in enough of a kerfuffle as it is without getting arrested ourselves!"
Delilah was halfway through tearing the bag open with her front incisors when she had to stifle a laugh instead.
"Is there something funny about that?"
"No, no. Sorry. It's just, I have a hard time focusing when you use words like 'kerfuffle' in casual conversation. A full stomach helps though." She proceeded to rip open the bag and pour a few chips into her gaping maw.
Eric sighed. While he didn't appreciate her poking fun at his accent, at least it was keeping her in good spirits. "I'm glad you can find an easy means of comfort. I'm just trying not to have a meltdown over here."
"Easy, Rick," Delilah said softly, her kind words filtered through the crunching of chips. "Just take a deep breath. Relax. Remind yourself who you are and why you're here."
"Do you really think that will help?"
"Well, it's either that or keep panicking."
Worth a shot, I suppose. Alright. My name is Eric Badge, and I'm a defense attorney. Though my experience in the courtroom thus far has been limited to civil trials, I might not have even gotten that much if not for my trusty partner.
He glanced over at Delilah, who froze mid-chew. "You're not doing me too, are ya?"
This is Delilah O'Possum. We've known each other since we were children and, for better or for worse, we've been inseparable ever since. Despite her… quirks, there's no one I'd trust more on the battlefield of the law.
He took one more deep breath. "I'm not sure how, but that really did help a bit. Much obliged."
"See? You know who to go to for sage advice." She belched.
"Speaking of exposition," Eric said, waving a paw to dispel the burp. "They're going to want us to tell them who's lead counsel."
"The usual method then?" she asked with a grin. "I know things are serious and all, but we have traditions."
"Oh, very well. You ready?"
"You know it!" Delilah put her crumb-covered fist out.
Eric did the same, sans crumbs. "On three."
"One... two... three!"
Eric threw out rock. Delilah tried scissors.
"Looks like I'm lead this time," Eric said, with zero enthusiasm. "Wonderful…"
"Hey now, don't let the fact that this trial is way scarier than our usual fare deter you," she encouraged. "You got this. And more importantly, you got me by your side. Just keep in mind what, and who, you're fighting for out there."
"Hey, Eric…" a new voice said.
(How could I ever forget?)
He was attacked by a sudden, vise-like hug. The brown-and-white polecat's long body could have easily been like a boa constrictor, but she thankfully chose not to eat Eric today and let him go, taking a moment to straighten out her turtleneck, which was decorated with the pattern of a nice business suit.
"Millie!" Eric chided. "Didn't I tell you to get an actual suit for court?"
"I couldn't afford one," Millie replied, beaming good-naturedly. "So I got the next best thing." She gave a wink, pinching his cheek. "But you look fancy enough for both of us, Stuffy."
This is Millie Muskerson. A friend and colleague of ours from law school. She's still working towards a law degree herself, and now I have to ensure she doesn't end up being used as a case study instead.
Eric sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Thank you, Millie. But please don't call me that in court. I feel like you're not taking the fact that you're being charged with murder seriously enough."
"Awww, don't worry!" Millie assured, giving a thumbs-up. "I totally trust you guys!"
"That's the spirit!" Delilah cheered.
"You're both going to run me ragged," Eric groaned, feeling a migraine coming on. "But… I suppose it's good that you're keeping your wits about you." (That makes one of us.) "That will help you immensely if-I mean when you earn your degree."
"Are you ready?"
Eric's vision was suddenly filled by a long, thin tongue, dangling from a black-furred muzzle.
The shaggy anteater in a bailiff's uniform slurped his tongue back into his mouth. "Trial's about to start. Get in place."
(Well. You're quite the blunt fellow.) "Right then. Come on, everyone."
I'd like to say this is where my story begins, but it's really more of a side chapter in the ongoing narrative of my legal career. Once this nightmare is through, I'll be happy to never take another murder trial again.
But this time, I must. For Millie's sake.
10:31 AM
Zootopian Central Courthouse - Courtroom No. 2
No matter how many times he walked in here, Eric still found himself a little awed by the sheer majesty of the courtroom and what it represented. Like the ancient gladiators of old, it was here that he would fight in front of an onlooking crowd for nothing less than Millie's very future. But if this was to be his arena, then he could ask for none better.
CRUNCH
Eric's head whipped towards his co-counsel. Delilah stood right there at the defense's bench next to him, a bit more preoccupied with her bag of Zooritos at the moment. She didn't stop eating when she caught him glaring at her, just sort of slowed down in a way that made them both more uncomfortable.
"You brought those in here?!" he whispered.
"Well yeah? What was I supposed to do, just throw 'em away?"
(Yes, I'd hate to see you waste all that money you didn't spend.)
Eric wasn't the only one glaring. Across from them, at the prosecutor's bench, was a pig. She wore a bright green suit with a yellow skirt, a pearl necklace, oversized sunglasses, and bright red lipstick. She was also talking on a cell phone. "Yeah. I know. The defense is being so uncouth. One of them is eating chips and the other is so heavy that I'm surprised he's not!" she complained in a nasally voice.
(Am I the only one here who has any sense of decorum?)
"All rise for the honorable Judge Loggins!" yelled the anteater bailiff.
The court stood.
Judge Loggins was, unsurprisingly, a beaver. She was heavyset, with dark brown eyes, and thankfully did not wear a powdered wig.
Loggins took her seat, banging a slightly-chewed gavel. "Court is now in session for the trial of Millie Muskerson. Is the prosecution ready?"
The pig was still on her phone. "Looks like things are settling down now. The judge is asking the prosecution if they're—ACK!" She quickly hung up and stuffed the device into her pocket, standing up straight to look as dignified as possible after that. "The prosecution is ready, Your Honor!"
(I suppose I can't do much worse than that.) "The defense is ready, Your Honor," Eric stated.
Yet he was the one Loggins was now staring at. "Mr. Badge, I hear this is your first murder trial?"
That caught him off-guard for just a second before he recovered. "Erm, yes, Your Honor. That is correct. Do you wish to ascertain my readiness or some such?"
"Heck no, we don't have time for that!" she laughed. "You said you were ready, so I'm taking your word for it."
Delilah nudged him. "You see, Rick? Even the judge believes in you."
"I'm not so certain that was confidence she was expressing."
"So you're a rookie then?" the pig asked, sounding more than a little smug about it. "That explains it. You do have the scent of a novice about you." Her porcine nose twitched, pushing the sunglasses up her face.
(Stiff upper lip, stiff upper lip.) "I'm not new to the courtroom itself! Just cases of the more… homicidal persuasion."
"As if that makes any difference." She shook her head hard enough to swing her pearls. "You have no idea what you're getting into, rookie."
Loggins slammed her gavel. "Ms. Oinkbaum, you will refrain from insulting remarks towards the defense."
Oinkbaum, who seemed to have no experience at all in not getting her way, just pouted. "Oh, if I must."
"Now, please give your opening statement."
Oinkbaum nodded, adjusting her shades with one hoof and holding up some documents with the other. "The murder took place early this very morning in the underground parking garage of the Zootopia Police Department, Precinct 1. The victim was Bea F. Wellington, a police detective with a promising career ahead of her. This truly heinous crime was perpetrated by our suspect arrested at the scene: Ms. Millie Muskerson."
Eric knew all of this already, but the recap wasn't doing much to boost his confidence. (As if plain old vanilla murder weren't bad enough, she just had to go and get arrested for COP murder.)
"Hey, Rick. Do you notice something missing?" Delilah pointed out, having finally finished her snack. "There's no jury."
Indeed, the six seats in front of the judge's bench were all empty. Ever since the jury system started coming back into popularity, that was actually an unusual sight these days.
"Excuse me, I was talking!" Oinkbaum snapped. "Due to the sensitive nature of this case, it is being held as a closed, emergency trial, with only members of the ZPD and their families in attendance."
(That explains the short notice. And why I'm seeing so much blue in the gallery.) And why they were already grumbling in disapproval.
"As I was saying, I have here a photo of the grisly aftermath to submit as evidence," Oinkbaum continued, the bailiff passing around copies to the judge and defense.
Eric took one look at it and winced. Delilah peeked over his shoulder. "Yikes. That's gonna leave a mark."
It had already left several. The photograph showed a cow in dark clothes and piercings sprawled facedown across the hood of a black car. It seemed to have rammed her straight into the wall, with a few stray wires hanging down from something directly behind her body.
Judge Loggins frowned in distaste. "I see. The court accepts this into evidence. Please continue."
Crime Scene Photo added to the Court Record
"The cause of death was electrocution, which stopped the victim's heart. How you may ask? The answer lies in the junction box visible behind her. The victim was struck with the car and shoved into the junction box, leading to the fatal shock. Estimated time of death is between 4 and 4:30 AM."
Wellington's Autopsy Report added to the Court Record
"This is already looking real bad…" Delilah said, wringing her tail nervously.
"It is," Eric admitted. "But I think I see a contradiction!"
She looked more confused than confident. "Wait, already? Are you sure about—"
Objection!
Eric slammed his paw on the desk and pointed across the courtroom. "My client is a small mustelid! Are you seriously suggesting she would drive a car big enough to ram into a cow?!"
"U-Um, actually..."
Sitting at the defendant's chair, Millie bashfully raised a paw, the lower half of her face drawn into her turtleneck. "That… is my car."
Eric deflated. "Oh."
"Kinda jumped the gun on that one, don't you think?" Delilah asked.
(Ugh. I'm getting too anxious about this.)
"I like 'em big!" Millie exclaimed, giving a very unsubtle smoldering look at Eric.
(Why is she only extroverted when she's hitting on me?)
"Anyway," Eric began, clearing his throat. "Even if the car belongs to my client, there's still no proof that she was the one actually driving it during the murder."
"The arresting officer literally found her climbing out of it," Oinkbaum said, rolling her eyes.
"I feel like you only said 'literally' there to be referential," Delilah pointed out.
"Are you accusing me of stealing a catchphrase of some kind?" Oinkbaum asked with a huff.
"I mean... not exactly stealing. Copyright violation maybe? I dunno. I didn't study intellectual property law."
Loggins banged her gavel. "This is not a copyright court! Prosecution, you may call your first witness."
While worded politely, this was not a request and Oinkbaum knew better than to argue. "The prosecution calls Detective Bailey Oates to the stand!"
The court settled down, now able to clearly hear the sound of clopping hooves approaching the witness stand. The tall, auburn horse had an air of authority about him, wearing a white detective's coat, a tie, and a bright and polished police badge swinging idly from his neck on a lanyard. He shot a friendly smile, swiveling a piece of hay around in his teeth.
"Witness, please state your name and occupation," Oinkbaum droned, clearly not seeing the need when she already had.
"Bailey Oates, ma'am," the horse replied, tipping an invisible hat. "I'm a detective with Precinct 1."
"Specifically, you're the detective who arrested the suspect on scene. Is that correct?"
He nodded firmly. "Yes, ma'am. I caught that little saboteur before she could do any further damage down in the stables."
(A mammal is dead. What further damage were you expecting?) "And that… 'saboteur' would be the defendant?" Eric asked, already knowing the answer.
"That's right. The tube squirrel who rode that chariot down to destiny."
The courtroom was quiet for nearly a minute.
Finally, Loggins broke the silence. "What the heck did he just say?"
(Oh joy. He talks like Delilah after she found that thesaurus.) "Rrrriiiight. Erm... Could you please testify as to the nature of the crime?"
Oates nodded sagely. "Can't have a fair race if the track is too muddy."
"This dude is starting to freak me out a little," Delilah whispered.
"Me too. And now we get to listen to an entire testimony from him."
"Clean out those ears now," Oates advised. "This tale is gonna be a doozy."
Witness Testimony
~Day at the Races~
"In the waning hours of daylight, our star shone brightly at the top."
"But when the starting gun was fired, she was in for a ride like none other."
"Dragged down to the darkest depths she was, carried by the weight of sin."
"Finally, the race was over and she crossed the finish line off this mortal coil."
"There were even fireworks, y'know."
Once again, the courtroom went quiet, this time without any relief in sight.
(Sweet badger in the sky, did I just step into an old Western?) "Er... Prosecutor Oinkbaum, could you please... translate?"
"Don't look at me," Oinkbaum said, filing her hooves. Not the ones on her hands. She had one foot up on the prosecution bench, filing away at it. "Cross-examination is your job."
"She has a point, Mr. Badge," Judge Loggins agreed. "This trial has to be over quickly, so hop to it."
Eric already felt the weight of his profession bearing down on him. (Law school did not prepare me for this. But if it's to save Millie, I have no choice but to dive into this haystack and extract the needle of truth. Great, now he's got ME doing it.)
Cross-Examination
~Day at the Races~
"In the waning hours of daylight, our star shone brightly at the top."
Hold it!
"This 'star' being… the defendant?" Eric guessed.
"I mean the victim, of course," Oates corrected. "She was, after all, a regular star in our department."
"...Of course. And is that what she was on top of?"
"No, no. She was on the top level of the parking garage. Here, lemme show ya." Oates pulled out a diagram and unfolded it for the court to see.
The ZPD parking garage appeared to be split between two levels. The top level, B1, housed a guard station in the upper-right corner, with nearby stairs leading up into the main building. The lower-left corner led to the exit. In the center of the floor was a ramp leading down to the lower level, and at the top of that ramp was a circular 'V' marker. Eric thankfully didn't need to translate what that stood for.
"I… I see." At the very least, he was thankful to be passed a copy.
Parking Garage Diagram added to the Court Record
(I'll really have to keep track of this thing.) "Please continue."
"But when the starting gun was fired, she was in for a ride like none other."
Hold it!
"W-Wait, so she was shot too?!"
Oates shook his head in obvious pity. "Don't be ridiculous, boy. There were no guns involved in this crime."
(I'M being ridiculous?)
"What I refer to is the moment of the murder, when poor ol' Welly was met by the offendin' vehicle."
"The car my client was found in, I presume?"
"The very same. But if ya don't believe me, I reckon I've still got more to stake on this race."
"Meaning… more evidence?"
"Eeyup. Got some photos of the wrecked car."
And he wasted no time in showing them off.
Millie's car was in bad shape, at least at first glance. Its windshield and front windows were smashed, covering both of the front seats in glass. But as he looked closer, Eric noticed that it wasn't all that dented.
"It doesn't seem as damaged as I would expect from a car crash," he noted.
"There's a good reason for that, albeit a morbid one. But in a homicide, is that not the best kind?"
(I don't even WANT to know what that's supposed to mean.)
But Oates explained anyway. "Y'see, the vehicle in question didn't hit that wall as hard as you'd think. It had some generous cushioning."
"Cushioning from what?" Eric challenged.
A second later, it hit him. "O-Oh…"
Car Photos added to the Court Record
"Please continue, Detective." (And give me something else to think about.)
"Dragged down to the darkest depths she was, carried by the weight of sin."
Hold it!
"Dragged down?" Eric asked skeptically. "You're making it sound like she fell from somewhere."
Oates tilted his hoof back and forth. "Sorta. But not quite. Take a look at that diagram again."
He referred back to the parking garage diagram, this time focusing on the lower level, B2. He pointed to the spot with the ramp that led up to B1, the same ramp that he'd previously established to be the victim's 'starting point'. "The car hit her up above and carried her below. See what's waitin' for her at the bottom?"
Directly across from where the ramp let off was a wall with a little rectangle labeled 'junction box'. "The, uh, murder weapon." Honestly, the mental picture would've been a bit humorous if it weren't so horrifying. "She really just got driven all the way down there?"
"More like steered, am I right?" Delilah tried to joke.
(Right, yes. Tactful, no.) "That's a bit odd though, don't you think? Even if it wasn't what killed her, being struck by a vehicle that large should've left some serious bruising on her at least. Yet the autopsy report doesn't make any significant mention of it."
"And don't give us that 'outdated autopsy' crap!" Delilah added. "I've seen the memes!"
"As far as we can tell, Detective Wellington may not have been struck directly, per se," Oinkbaum replied, barely looking at them.
(You sure made it sound pretty direct before.) "What is that supposed to mean?"
"It means exactly what I said. We believe she wasn't hit head-on, but actually jumped onto the hood of the car, in an effort to stop the defendant from fleeing."
Objection!
"Fleeing?" Eric exclaimed. "From what? My client had done nothing that would warrant an attempted escape, nor give Detective Wellington cause to stop her."
"You think so, do you?" Oinkbaum stopped her hoof-filing to literally put her foot down. "How little you seem to know about your own client's actions. Do you even know why she was in that police building in the first place?"
"Of course I do!" he snapped back. "She was there on an internship towards her law degree. Are you suggesting she had another motive for being there?"
"All in due time," Oinkbaum cut him off, waving a dismissive hoof with such grace that she must have practiced the gesture often. "We're getting off-topic. What you wanted to know was why the victim's injuries were less severe. Now you do."
Wellington's Autopsy Report updated in the Court Record
(Damn. What do they think Millie did in there? I really hope she didn't hide anything from me...) He glanced over at the polecat in the defendant's chair, who only smiled nervously at him in response. Not a great sign.
"Let's return to the detective's testimony now," the pig requested.
"With pleasure," Oates replied.
"Finally, the race was over and she crossed the finish line off this mortal coil."
Hold it!
"Then... that's the point when she died?"
"Eeyup."
They all uncomfortably waited for more information. None came.
(So they can't all be winners. But at least I'm getting better at interpreting these.)
"There were even fireworks, y'know."
Hold it!
"And what exactly does that mean?" Eric demanded.
Now even Oates looked irritated. "Whaddya think it means? It means she hit the junction box hard enough to break it, and then got pushed up against a bunch of naked cables."
"Alright, then let me ask you something else, Detective. All these 'fireworks' caused by hitting the junction box… Wouldn't this have also caused a power outage of some kind?"
"As a matter of fact, it did," Oates said. "But don't get too excited just yet. The lights went out for maybe ten seconds tops before the backup generator kicked in. Hardly enough time for, say, some other miscreant to sneak off the ranch."
Eric was about to let loose again before his argument died in his throat. (Eccentric he may be, but he didn't make detective for being an idiot.)
"It does give us some information though," Oinkbaum clarified, looking over a report in her hoof. "Based on when the outage occurred, we can estimate that the junction box was hit at roughly 4:12 AM. Which just so happens to fall within the parameters of the victim's estimated time of death."
(I'm about ready to call MY time of death on this testimony.)
Junction Box added to the Court Record
Somehow, it seemed they were actually at the end of this thing.
"At least we're getting no shortage of evidence, right?" Delilah asked, forcing a smile.
"Indeed. Though I'm not seeing anything actually helpful to our case."
"I'm not surprised," Oates said with a shrug. "Not if it takes ya that much time and effort just to deduce one testimony."
(A testimony isn't supposed to require deduction!) "Thank you for your help, Detective," he managed. "You were very… descriptive."
"Just doin' my civic duty."
"However!" He slammed his paws on the desk. "I still want to know what motive you think my client had in all this!"
"In all fairness to the little lady, we don't believe the crime was premeditated," Oates said, casually polishing his badge. "Not that crime anyway."
"That crime? What other crime was there?"
"Uuuuugh," Oinkbaum groaned loudly. "If you want to know so badly, why don't you just ask her yourself?"
(Why don't YOU just answer the question?) "Fine," Eric conceded. "The defense would hereby like to call Ms. Millie Muskerson to the stand!"
"I'll allow it," Loggins said. "Defendant, please come before the court. Detective Oates, you may step down."
"Off into the sunset I ride," the horse said, giving a bow. "Until the wind again whispers my name..."
(I doubt the wind or anyone else is going to call you back.)
"Are you sure about this, Rick?" Delilah asked. "You know Porkrind over there is just baiting you, right?"
"I object to the defense's malicious nicknaming!" Oinkbaum screeched.
Loggins barely flinched. "Overruled. If I stopped proceedings for everything that offends you, we'd be here all day."
"I know it's probably a trap," Eric finally replied. "But we need this information. I'm getting the impression that Millie didn't tell us everything she ought to have regarding this case."
Millie's face gradually retreated into her turtleneck as she approached the stand. She was visibly trembling, eyes darting around at the many faces in the courtroom.
"Defendant, state your name and occupation," Oinkbaum grumbled.
"..." Millie hid deeper in her turtleneck.
"Defendant! I told you to state your name and occupation!" Oinkbaum snapped. "Why are kits today so lazy?!"
"Her name is Millie Muskerson," Eric stepped in for her. "She's an intern at a local legal firm. Not ours."
Oinkbaum rolled her eyes, but chose not to protest. "Right. Now, defendant, you're going to testify about your actions during the time of the murder."
Only Millie's ears were visible. Her trembling may have been misinterpreted as a nod.
Witness Testimony
~The Sound of Silence~
"…."
"…."
"….Meep!"
Millie's silence was matched only by the rest of the courtroom.
(I was hoping her testimony would be more concise than the detective's, but this isn't exactly what I had in mind.) "Is she… invoking her right to remain silent?"
"She'd have to talk first to do that," Delilah answered. "Which is kind of a contradiction in itself when you think about it."
"Defendant!" Oinkbaum demanded. "I don't appreciate being ignored! It's in the Top 10 on my blog of things I don't appreciate!"
"Millie?" Eric asked gently. "We really need you to tell us what happened."
She gave a shaky nod.
"Is that 'Yes, I know' or 'Yes, I'll cooperate'?"
She gave a shaky nod.
Loggins sighed. "Well, you have the right to a cross-examination as always, but good luck with this one."
"Thanks, Your Honor." (Because I'll certainly need it.)
Cross-Examination
~The Sound of Silence~
"…."
Hold it!
Millie peeked out of her turtleneck in surprise at Eric's exclamation.
(Hm. She really isn't giving me anything. I'll have to come up with a way to get her to open up. Let's start small.)
"Millie, are you alright?" Eric asked in a gentle tone. "I know this is a very harrowing experience."
Her mouth and nose popped out of her turtleneck, a small smile finally forming on her face. "Aww. I'm always better when you're here, Stuffy."
"Stuffy?" Oinkbaum snerked.
"Irrelevant!" Eric said quickly. "But you haven't been hurt, by officers or otherwise?"
"N-No…" she said timidly. "I got checked out after I was… arrested. I'm doing okay. You know, physically. I have a medical report to that effect if you'd like it."
"Of course. That would be very helpful." (Honestly probably not, but I don't want to hurt her feelings.)
She wasn't quite brave enough to move from the witness stand yet, so she ended up turning the official medical document into a paper airplane and sending it over to Eric.
Millie's Medical Report flown into the Court Record
That was one thing pried out of her. Time to keep prying.
"…."
Hold it!
(Now that she's opened up a little, maybe I can get her talking about something more important.)
"If you don't mind my asking, Millie, what were you doing at the ZPD on the day of the murder?"
She actually swelled with a bit of pride. "M-My internship! They had me record some important new evidence for a case."
Oinkbaum smirked a bit at that response, but remained otherwise silent. Coming from her, that was just unnerving.
"I see," Eric said, nodding thoughtfully. (Oinkbaum wanted me to ask about this. There's got to be some kind of info I can get from her testimony.)
"….Meep!"
Hold it!
(I could ask about the evidence, but I sense a trap in that direction. Should I play it safe?)
"What were you doing in the car? Detective Oates claimed he found you there."
Her smile turned a little bashful. "It was a long, stressful week. I finished my work quicker than expected and had some extra time. So I kinda... took a nap in my car."
Now Eric was the one being stunned into silence. "A… nap?"
"That's right," she confirmed, starting to look a bit uncomfortable again. "I-Is that a problem?"
"More like a very convenient excuse," Oinkbaum answered before Eric could. "After all, it was during this 'nap' that a very valuable piece of evidence just happened to go missing from the evidence room she worked in."
He froze. (Annnnnd there's the trap.)
"Whoa, what?!" Delilah yelled. "They never told us anything about that!"
Eric slammed one paw down. "You can't possibly be accusing a student intern of stealing police evidence! She would have nothing to gain from that!"
"Nothing indeed," Oinkbaum agreed, giving a very unpleasant smile. "Unless, of course, the law firm who employed her happened to be Tooth & Claw."
A wave of unease rippled through the gallery, suspicious mutterings all around.
(I don't know what's going on here, but I don't like it.) "So what if it is? I've heard about Tooth & Claw before. They're a new and growing law firm of defense attorneys. It's only natural for someone like Millie to work under them."
"Oh really?" Oinkbaum asked, her smile morphing into a vicious sneer. "Then let me ask you something, Ms. Muskerson, assuming you don't magically lose the ability to speak again. If you worked under Tooth & Claw, then why isn't one of their lawyers here to defend your case? Surely you must have asked."
Eric raised a finger to interject but found that he couldn't. (That's… actually a very good question.)
Millie silently tucked her head back into her turtleneck.
(This doesn't look good. Should I let her answer?)
"Answer her, Millie," Eric encouraged, not seeing any other choice if he wanted to learn more. If anything, it was a play against expectation.
"...They said my case was hopeless," Millie answered, voice muffled by her sweater. "They refused to take a guaranteed loss."
(Well, that's ominous.) "Why did they think that?"
Oinkbaum gave a nasally chuckle. "Because the stolen evidence would have incriminated one of Tooth & Claw's biggest clients of some very nasty deeds," she replied, foot up on the table and filing her other hoof. "That would make it a juicy target for a young intern looking to get in good with her bosses."
Eric recoiled as if punched in the stomach. "Whaaaaaat?!"
The suspicious mutterings grew much, much louder. Millie retreated back into the temporary safety of Sweatertown.
"Order! Order!" Judge Loggins slammed her gavel repeatedly. "I will have order or so help me I'm gonna start booting people!"
Objection!
Eric pointed sharply across the room at Oinkbaum. "That accusation is entirely circumstantial! Do you have any evidence to prove my client stole this… evidence?"
"I'll do you one better and summon a new witness," she replied smugly. "The caretaker of the evidence room itself! She should be able to answer allllll of your questions."
(Do you only summon witnesses so you don't have to answer them yourself?) "Very well then. Bring in your witness and we'll see just how much she can tell us!"
Now if only he actually felt the confidence he'd just exuded.
Loggins slammed her gavel. "You heard him, Ms. Oinkbaum. Please summon your next witness."
"Of course, Your Honor." She pulled out her phone again, this time actually using it for work-related purposes. "Yes, it's me. Send in our next witness."
Eric was much too far away to make out the other end of the call, but Oinkbaum wasn't subtle about her expressions and now she looked to be outright bellowing steam from her nostrils. "What do you mean you lost her?! If you flatfoots ruin this case for me, so help me I'll cut all of your salaries!"
"Is there a problem, prosecutor?" asked a very unimpressed Judge Loggins.
Oinkbaum visibly restrained the urge to throw her phone across the room but still hung up as violently as possible. She forced a smile in spite of it. "J-Just a small one, Your Honor. It seems my next witness has gotten… misplaced."
"Misplaced?" asked Eric. "How did you manage that?"
"It's not my fault she has a short attention span, Badge!" Again, the pig reeled herself in. "I would like to request a brief recess in order to track her down. We've already got someone on the job, so it shouldn't take long."
"So be it," Loggins sighed. "But I'm only giving you fifteen minutes. Any longer and we move on without her. Am I understood?"
She grit her teeth. "Yes, Your Honor…"
"Good. Then for now, court is adjourned." She brought down her gavel.
SLAM
To be continued...
Court Record:
Attorney's Badge
Symbol of my profession, icon of my status, brand of integrity, and marvel of justice. The one back in Great Bitein is nicer though.
Crime Scene Photo
Shows the victim, Detective Wellington, sprawled facedown across the hood of Millie's car. The smashed junction box is visible on the wall behind her, wires hanging down. I'll resist the urge to call her death 'shocking' out of taste.
Wellington's Autopsy Report
Cause of death was electrocution. Severe electrical burns on the back and face. Also suffered bruising in the back and torso, but injury was lessened due to not being a direct impact. Would be a lucky break if she hadn't died anyway. Estimated time of death is between 4 and 4:30 AM.
Parking Garage Diagram
Split between two levels. B1 houses the guard station in the upper-right corner, with nearby stairs leading up to the main building. The lower-left corner leads to the exit. In the center of the floor is a ramp leading down to the lower level, and someone seems to have added a little 'V' marker at the top of it. Cute. B2 shows the bottom of the same ramp, directly across from the junction box at the crime scene.
Car Photos
What's left of Millie's oversized automobile. The windshield and front windows are shattered, covering both of the front seats in glass. The only thing in the back seats are jumper cables and a bunch of unread car manuals. The vehicle itself isn't as damaged as one would expect though, for reasons I'd rather not recall.
Junction Box
Technically the murder weapon, I suppose. There's a poetic irony in something so small being the true danger. Was struck by both car and victim at roughly 4:12 AM, causing a brief outage.
Millie's Medical Report
Wait, this is just a note that says "I'm A-OK!" with a big smiley face. Did she lose the actual report?
Profiles:
Eric Badge
Age: 24
Species: Badger
I used to be a fairly-competent civil lawyer and now here I am taking a murder case! Wasn't my first choice, but if it's for a friend then there's really no choice at all.
Delilah O'Possum
Age: 24
Species: Opossum
My legal co-counsel and most trusted partner. She's far from a conventional lawyer, or the most hygienic, but underestimate her at your own peril.
Millie Muskerson
Age: 22
Species: Polecat
Old friend, current defendant. She has a penchant for getting into trouble but she's really outdone herself this time. Also likes to flirt with me, and I'm not one of those clueless anime protagonists too dim to notice it.
Judge Loggins
Age: 45
Species: Beaver
The judge presiding over this case. Tough, but fair. Certainly better than that kangaroo we had last time.
Marge Oinkbaum
Age: 40
Species: Pig
The prosecutor, regrettably. I wasn't sure mammals like this really existed until today. I can't shake the feeling that she's just waiting to call my manager on me, and I don't even have one!
Bea F. Wellington
Age: 31
Species: Cow
The victim in this case, of homicide and arguably fashion. That nose ring manages to be both rebellious AND stereotypical.
Bailey Oates
Age: 46
Species: Horse
No one can talk like this horse, of course, for this horse is the famous Mr. Fed. Seriously, I have no earthly clue what this guy is trying to say half the time.