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A story taking place shortly before Apollo Justice featuring a large cast of mostly new characters and the traditional five cases. Will be updated every so often; the site above will get you updates faster.
Will probably develop Cerebus Syndrome.
No major pairings, though Gumshoe/Maggey is heavily implied.

The Disabled Turnabout, Trial I

Spoiler:

1:57 pm, January 5th, 2025
City Courthouse
Defense Lobby #3

“He says, ‘You can get me off these charges, right?’”
I nod, hoping I look sufficiently confident. There aren’t a lot of defense attorneys out there that’d want to take on a supposed manslaughter as their first case, and even less who are still teenage, but with Wright gone I figured someone had to do something.
“Yeh, just you wait. It’s gonna be at least quartz-clear soon as the prosecution brings up the reason for the charges.”
The translator turns to my client, and there’s a blur of movement as he spells out my words to the man.
They’re both of fairly young age, and they look near identical in the suits they’re wearing. The only difference I can really see between them is that my client, James Tarrigan, is wearing a red tie and looks nervous, while his interpreter and brother, Matthew Tarrigan, is confidently looking from me to his brother and back.
“He says, ‘Quartz isn’t as clear as glass.’ If I may agree, it WAS a rather odd metaphor to choose.”
Oh, forgot to mention. James Tarrigan needs a translator for a pretty simple reason - he’s deaf, and he never did learn how to read lips either.
I shrug and straighten my sunglasses. “Cases should never be crystal clear at their very beginning, and if they are then they almost certainly are magnifying one thing and obscuring another important detail. Do you understand, Mr. Tarrigan?
The translator relays the message, and both brothers nod. Matthew Tarrigan looks at me with a bit of a smile on his face, the first I’ve seen from him, and adds in a low undertone the following words:
“What do you call yourself, Mr Hac-”
“Please, Mr. Tarrigan, call me Facade.” I hold up a hand slightly. “I’d rather nobody associate me with THAT trial, if you can understand.”
“Quite right. As I was saying, Mr. Facade, you call yourself Justice’s Wingman, do you not?”
I smile at the mention of the nickname. “Yes, yes I do.”
“Then I can speak for both my brother and I when I say that I’m fully confident you’ll get the true culprit a fine date with Lady Justice.”
He gives me an odd smile. I’m not sure what to make of the expression, but I grin at the two brothers and straighten up, attorney’s badge glinting on a chain around my neck.
“Come on then, Misters Tarrigan, we’ve got some, well, matchmaking to do.”
1:59 pm. Time to start this trial.

2:00 pm, January 5th
City Courthouse
Courtroom #3

“Court is now in session for the trial of Mr. James Harrigan, no, sorry, Tarrigan.”
The judge awkwardly pushes a pair of reading glasses onto his nose in an effort to look smart, then promptly drops them on the ground. “Prosecutor, ah, GC, if you could possibly summarize the crime for us in your opening statement?”
Prosecutor Tina “GC” Pine, a girl with black hair, red glasses, and gauntlets on her arms, signs out her opening statements, and the gadgets on her wrists begin to speak in place of her actual speech.
It’s her first day here as well, and I’d wager that her disability - she’s mute - is making her even more nervous than I am now. But I’ve got to get this trial done even if it upsets her, because my instincts are telling me that James is innocent.
“THE CRIME TOOK PLACE ON JANUARY SECOND, 4:30 PM, AT THEIR FATHER’S ESTATE.” Her speech synthesisers echo in the near silence of the room, giving the place an oddly futuristic feel despite the warm brown wood of the room.
“MR. CALVIN TARRIGAN IS A HIGHLY SUCCESSFUL BUSINESS MAN, AS MAY BE WELL KNOWN. SINCE HE WAS KILLED THERE, HOWEVER, I HIGHLY DOUBT THAT HE WILL CONTINUE MAKING MONEY.”
There’s a laugh from somewhere behind GC. Her morbid sense of humor comes out at the oddest times - it’s a testament to her wit that she still makes people laugh.
“ACCORDING TO POLICE INVESTIGATION, THE SCENE OF THE CRIME WAS THE LARGE MEETING ROOM ON THE ESTATE. TIME OF DEATH WAS AROUND 4:30 TO 4:40. IF THE AUTOPSY REPORT IS CORRECT, WHICH IT USUALLY IS...”
Another chuckle. In the brief pause, I pick up my copy of the autopsy and write a summary in my Court Record.
Looks like GC's about to announce the murder weapon. I'm pretty sure what she's going to say next is...
“...THEN THE MURDER WEAPON WAS THE TABLE ITSELF. THIS IS HIGHLY UNFORTUNATE, SINCE WE LACK DECISIVE FINGERPRINTS."
Yup. I take the picture of the stained table edge and write a note in the blank part: The murder "weapon". The table is often used by many people, therefore any and all fingerprints on its surface cannot be decisive.
"HOWEVER, WE DO HAVE A WITNESS TO THE CRIME...”
GC pauses as if for dramatic effect, and the judge clears his throat.
“Miss GC, if you could please call this witness? And also turn down the volume on your, er, whatever-they-ares?
“CERTAINLY. THE PROSecution calls Miss Kiana Leed, one of the estate’s maids, to the stand at this time.” As she speaks, she twists a dial on her left gauntlet and the volume goes down. The courtroom sounds empty without the fake voice ringing around it, but maybe it’s just me.
“Miss Leed, could you please take the stand and explain what you saw? But, well, your name and occupation first...”
Kiana Leed is short and skinny, about 25 if I had to guess, red-haired and blue-eyed and VERY nervous-looking. She twiddles her thumbs as she speaks and corrects herself often.
“My name is Kiana Leed... I’m a raid, um, maid, at the estate of Tarrigan Senior.”
“I’ve been working with the Harri, um, Tarrigans for one, um, two months now. Two, um, three days ago, I entered the conference room and saw something really hairy, um, scary.”
She takes a deep breath and continues. “Mr. Cordon, um, Calvin, was slumped over the table, and one of the sisters, um, brothers, was sorta looking at his hands like “what did I do”. I didn’t see the other one, but I’m pretty sure it was Matt, um, James...”
She trails off, earning a frown from me. Time to get to the (obvious) problem with the statement.
"Mr., er, Facade? Your cross-examination?"
"With pleasure. Miss Leed, please repeat your previous statements so I can perform a proper examination?"
Leed nods and begins to repeat her words. I wait through her words patiently until the last statement comes around...
"I didn't see the other one, but I'm pretty sure it was James..."
"Hang on a SECOND! How do you know it was him, and how do you know if he actually killed Tarrigan Senior!?"
Leed bites her lip. "That's a long one, can I have another money test, um, testimony?"
I look over to GC, who gives me a wide grin. That’s never a good sign...
"Yes you may. Miss Leed, please explain how you knew it was James."
The judge bangs his gavel.
“Well, I just had this peeling, um, feeling. Also, I’ve heard Mr. Tarrigan talk to Mr. James, and a lot of the time he’s not very rice, um, nice. So he would’ve had a motive... And I don’t want to accuse either of them, but the thing is... The incinerator was used the night of the lime, um, crime, but both brothers used it. Whoever killed Mr. Tarrigan must have burned their clothes in hair, um, there.”
GC presses a button on her wrist, flicks her arm, and silently throws a photo at me - a small, bright orange, incinerator surrounded by ash.
I look at the photo, rub the indent on my forehead it left, then scribble a note on the fiery thing for the Court Record: Both brothers have their fingerprints on it. The killer probably burned his bloodstained clothing with this.
“Defense, your cross-examination?”
“Sure thing... Now, Miss Leed, you said you ‘just had this feeling’ it was James. Could you elaborate on this feeling?”
Leed bites her lip. “The brothers are pretty similar, so it wasn’t water, um, posture. I guess it was the ham, um, hand gesture that made me think it was James, because he does all those hand rhymes, um, signs all the time.”
GC’s voice emulator shouts at a low volume. “HOLD IT! That statement is vital to this case and I demand it replace the first vague statement made!”
“Not so!” I snap back quickly. “It’s merely a clarification; after manslaughter nearly anyone would look at their hands that way. However...” I turn to look at GC and return her ‘gonna kick your butt regardless’ grin. “...If the prosecutor still wishes to have the statement added, I have no problems provided my ability to press the resulting statement remains intact.”
“Then we are agreed,” the judge declares. “Miss Leed, please amend your last statement. Defense, I understand you’d like more info on it?”
“Witness, are you sure there was nothing else that made you think it was my client?”
“Yeah. There was just one other thing...” Leed continues to her next sentence, and I stop her again, slamming my palms onto the desk.
“WAIT! Exactly what kinds of criticisms are these attacks?”
“Oh, um, usually they’re about how their investments are going frown, um, down, but sometimes it’s personal attacks. Usually not. I brought the stats from the meeting though, can the sheriff, um, bailiff, please pass them out?”
The bailiff, a tough-looking old lady, hands out the papers silently.
I glance at the paper. on which multi-colored numbers were arranged in odd formations, then write down an analysis of it for my record: A sheet of numbers showing the finances of the deceased. There are a lot of red parts, which is probably not good.
GC smiles at Kiana Leed. “Witness, you’ve helped a lot. Thank you. At this time, I will allow the defense to call a witness, and if not, I will call one myself.”
I give her my most evenly blank look. “At this time, I have no witnesses I wish to call.”
“In that case, the prosecution calls the defendant, James Tarrigan, to the stand.”
Oh great. I fell right into THAT one.
James Tarrigan takes the stand, and his brother sits beside him calmly.
“Name and occupation?”
Hand movements and the clearing of a throat.
“James Tarrigan, this is my twin and interpreter Matthew. We work with the stock market.”
“If you could possibly tell your account of what happened?”
James nods, makes another sign, and Matthew relays the message. “Certainly.”
“We were there with our father for a meeting about the finances. As you can see from the paper Miss Leed handed out, they weren’t good. My father appeared to start screaming, but as I’m deaf, I couldn’t hear him. Matthew explained that he was ranting about how badly we were doing. Then my father turned to Matthew and began screaming at him, I guess. Matthew just leaned back a little and fumbled with something in his pocket.”
“Defense, proceed with your cross-examination.”
“Okay. Now you said you couldn’t hear him. This is out of pure curiosity, but can you read lips?”
James shrugs and begins to sign. “Not when somebody is far away, like the judge, or yelling, like my father was.”
GC looks over at me. “Are you satisfied, or should we have that written down as evidence?”
I raise an eyebrow at her. “Actually, I’ll be writing down those two statements.”
I grab a small sticky note and write down the two most vital things from James I’ve heard so far, summarized: James could neither hear nor understand his father’s abusive rants.
James continues his testimony, and I listen to the final point...
“Hang on a SECOND! What was this object?”
GC glares at me this time. “It’s unimportant what the object is. The point is, we have established motive and means. Now all we need is a decisive piece of evidence.”
The courtroom begins to murmur, and I gulp. Not good.
“WAIT! We haven’t established whether the defendant has an alibi yet!”
James signs something hurriedly, and Matthew translates it. “I was in the bathroom at the time of the murder. Unfortunately, I believe the nature of my alibi makes it hard to prove...”
James hangs his head as he exits the court, and another man runs right past him...
“HOLD IT! Miss GC, I found the evidence you were looking for, and you won’t BELIEVE what it is!”
To my surprise, GC looks down at Gumshoe and shakes her head slowly. “Are there fingerprints on it?”
Gumshoe nods. “That’s right, pal. A bunch of them.”
GC glares at him and turns up the volume on her gauntlets. “AND WERE THEY ANALYZED!?”
“Uh, sorry, pal, I forgot that part. Lemme go down to the precinct and get ‘em checked. In the meantime, uh...”
“The defense requests a five-minute break, Your Honor. For the detective’s sake and everyone else’s. First, though, what is THIS object?”
Gumshoe grins. “It’s a tie pin, pal. Found right near the body, and guess what! The father was already wearing one. This belongs to the killer!”
I note the tie pin in the Court Record grimly: Found near the dead body. Unidentified fingerprints are all over it.
The judge nods at me. “At this time, the court will take a five-minute recess while Gumshoe prepares the evidence.”