Manny Coachen was in the custody of Miles Edgeworth and the Prosecutor's Office, but that was cold comfort.
Apollo read over the report, as he had done at least a hundred times before. Klaire Gavin had given her full confession.
A number of years past, she had had entered the service of the Red Carnation syndicate, using her position as a court baliff to smuggle items and snag favors to aid members in danger of arrest. She had done this with the hope of one day taking out Manny Coachen, the one who's organization had doomed her parents to an early grave.
As far back as the start of the new year, she had begun to secretly release the names of certain members, both from the inner circle and without. As expected, Manny Coachen had let his paranoia and panic get the better of him. He had retreated to the Ivory Motel, unable to trust anyone until he had solved the mystery of the leaker.
Klaire had come to him to feed him intelligence. What she had not told him was that she was planning his demise.
Valant Gramarye had been down on his luck for years since the fall of his group, Troupe Gramarye. He had come to the Ivory Motel for room, and Klaire had seized upon her chance to pull off a last-minute plan before Coachen could doubt her loyalty. She had struck Valant, and had called in to frame Coachen for the crime. She had told Coachen, who had just become aware that there had been an assault outside his room, that he would likely be suspected, but that she would find a way to help him. She had told him that she would find him a lawyer, with the understanding that if he tried to put the blame on her, then she had a phone full of the syndicate's contacts that she could release at any time.
She had picked Apollo Justice to serve as a defense, expecting that even the successful rookie would not be able to stand against Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth. She had not counted on Coachen figuring out during the trial that she was responsible for his position, or that he would try to escape.
She had not protested when the Prosecutor's Office had confiscated the phone. She had given the police the name of one of the sydicate's safehouses a few blocks from the Ivory Motel. Valant had been found there. He was dazed and frightened, but very much alive.
However, Klaire had yet to explain her motive for such a long-haul deception. Apollo got up from his chair, and then hesitated. Shaking his head, he went for the door.
Klaire walked though the dark hallway. Her makeshift brace had been taken away, and she had been fitted with a proper, sterile cast. She moved resolutely, not minding the cotton uniform she wore. She ignored the guard walking behind her, and she did not even care that there were handcuffs around her waist. But as she walked past one of the many closed doors, she could not help but shiver at the chuckle leaking out from behind it.
"Officer..." That word came from the same mouth, doubtlessly. The guard stood still, but Klaire, shook her head.
"It's alright."
Kristoph Gavin was almost unrecognizable to Klaire and the guard as they walked through. He sat on his bunk, the only amenity in the room besides the toilet. His hair had been shaved to a buzzcut, and he wore a pair of oversized, plastic-rimmed glasses on his face. He looked...shrivelled. One would guess that he had lost a third of his body weight. His face looked as if he were a couple decades older than he was. But his smile was unmistakable. He raised his skeletal hands and clapped, mocking, three times.
"I always knew you had it in you, little sister."
Klaire did not say anything.
Kristoph adjusted his glasses as they slipped down his nose. "Everyone thinks of...thought of you as a paragon. A candle in the dark, a helping hand. But not me. I know you, I've known you since we were little. I know when you're angry, sad, telling the truth, lying..."
Klaire's lip quivered.
"I know you're on my level."
It took strenuous effort, but the guard finally managed to pull Klaire off of Kristoph. The prisoner did not seem to bother to dodge as Klaire leapt forward, sending a fist straight into his face. The glasses had fallen to the floor as Klaire had taken her brother by the collar and continued punching him.
When the guard finally got Klaire back through the door, he took his walkie-talkie and sent a message to the infirmary. He did not like the man any more than Klaire, but regulations were regulations.
Klaire found herself escorted to the newly available cell. She could only sigh deeply as the door shut behind her. The bed was not a fine wine, but it was good enough to sit on a stew on for a while.
She did not know how long she sat. Maybe an hour, maybe two. Seconds, minutes, hours...they were all the same to her now.
Then a different guard opened the cell door.
"Apollo Justice wants to talk to you."
-A multi-chapter story; Chapter 35; story idea by CRed1988 and writing by Jerviss.