Reading though these chapters this evening was great. I really enjoyed this story, so much backstory and lovely characterization. I loved the scene between Lana and Franziska and the guilt Miles had for White being found guilty.

Out of concern for Franziska’s mental well-being, Miles decided to visit the United States. As he expected, she greeted him coldly and acted as though she despised him. He knew better, though. In truth, she respected him, but her determination to surpass him made her act as though she viewed him as nothing more than a rival. After all they had been through together, it was foolish to think their bond was any weaker than it was when they were children. In a way, Franziska was closer to Miles than to Therese. Still, despite the closeness of their bond, Franziska, ever adamant about maintaining an air of invincibility, refused Miles’s invitation to his wedding. Considering that she might have whipped someone at the ceremony, it might have been better that way.

He ran into Wright during the investigation of Franziska’s newest case. He was holding a grudge against Miles, which could explain why he didn’t respond to the invitation he sent his way. Franziska was going to be prosecuting Wright’s client: Matt Engarde. Miles knew the type—determined to have the entire spotlight, throws anyone in his way into a scandal, treats women as if they’re nothing more than points in a game, and sweeps all that under the rug while smiling innocently for the cameras. He had been caught this time, though; the investigation had little—if any—doubt that he had killed his rival, Juan Corrida. Though Franziska would probably win this case, her mission to defeat Wright in court was unhealthy, not to mention misguided. To start, she had become so obsessed with defeating him that, according to Gumshoe, she would willingly tamper with the evidence. More significant, though, was that Franziska had nothing to gain from a guilty verdict; Miles was through walking the path of a von Karma and saw nothing but shame in fighting so selfishly. Still, being the caring “brother” he was, he was on his way to the courthouse to give Franziska his support.

A gunshot rang out, followed by a scream, interrupting Miles’s thoughts. He frantically searched for the source of the scream. His eyes suddenly stopped across the street. A young woman had collapsed to the ground, bleeding, a briefcase by her side. Other pedestrians gathered around slowly, all apparently too sure someone else would get help for her to help her on their own. Miles recognized her almost instantly.

“Franziska!” he cried as she struggled to her feet.

Miles wasted no time in running across the street. Someone honked at him for jaywalking, but he ignored it.

“Franziska! Stop!”

Franziska stopped momentarily and turned her head. She had been shot in the right shoulder and was bleeding profusely. She then turned back and continued on her way to the courthouse. Miles shoved his way through the crowd and grabbed her by the left wrist, not stopping to talk as he pulled her in the direction of the hospital.

“Ah!” Franziska yelped, struggling almost instantly. “What do you think you’re doing!?” She probably would have whipped Miles, but with her right arm wounded and her left arm held tight, she couldn’t. Her voice had more anger in it than that of a cat at the veterinarian’s office.

“Taking you to the hospital,” Miles replied in a commanding—though clearly worried—tone. As viciously as Franziska tried to wrest her wrist from Miles’s grasp, she was unable to prevent herself from getting pulled toward the hospital.

“No! Let me go! I’m fine!”

“No, you’re not! You’ve been shot, for the love of God! You’re going to the hospital!”

“I can get by just fine, Miles Edgeworth! Let GO of my wrist!”

“I will not! Don’t let your idea of family honor cost you your life! You’re bleeding too much!”

“Let me GO!”

“I said no!”

“I’m not some little girl! Stop treating me like I don’t know what’s best for me!”

“I care about you too much to let you bleed to death when I can save you! You’re going to the hospital, you’re getting your wound tended to, and you’re abandoning the case until you’re better!”

“I’ll never turn this case over! I’m fine!”

“Stop right there,” Miles demanded, still in a commanding voice, but calmer. “You’re not fooling me. You’re absolutely terrified right now, and that’s why I’m here to help. Do what’s best for yourself and cooperate. You can whip me for this later.”

The argument continued all the way to the emergency room, where two nurses had to literally tie Franziska to a gurney to get her to go with them to have the wound tended to. Miles gave one of the nurses Franziska’s briefcase and whip, asking that they be given to her once the operation ended—although he removed the files on the case before handing the briefcase over.

Of all the absurd things to happen… getting shot on the way to court? Don’t worry, Franziska… You’re safe now, and I’ll make sure your case is seen through to the end. With Franziska wounded, Miles decided that the case was best handled by him. He knew enough about the situation, and with Wright as the defense attorney, it seemed unlikely that anything would be overlooked.

There was still some time before the trial was to begin—Franziska no doubt wanted to be early so she could prepare her witnesses. This was convenient for Miles, because it gave him time to review Franziska’s files, as well as get a sense of her plan for the trial.



Miles arrived in court just a few minutes after 10:00. He had received a phone call a few minutes earlier saying that Franziska’s operation had begun without any complications. While reading Franziska’s notes on Ms. Andrews on the way to court, he decided it would be wise to have her ready as a witness for the trial, and, as such, had an officer summon her—though she would not arrive until after the trial had gotten underway. In part, he looked forward to the trial; it was only fitting that Wright, the man who helped him see the error of his earlier methods, would be the one to face him in his first trial back in the United States.

The Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth of the past is long dead. Today, this court will see the man who has arisen in his place.

Miles walked to the courtroom the trial was scheduled to take place in. He could hear voices coming from inside—the doors were open for some reason.

“M-Ms. Von Karma!” Miles heard Wright’s voice cry. “Is she alright!?”

“I don’t have that answer!” the judge responded as Miles entered.

“She’s alive and in stable condition,” Miles said as he walked in. Wright and some woman clad so scantily Miles felt like accusing her of indecent exposure were standing behind the defense bench. Noah Clous was presiding over the case.

“That’s good…” the judge said, relieved. “Phew.” Miles noticed a look of shock on the judge’s face as he noticed Miles. “Y-Y-You’re…”

I guess Judge Clousless believed I really was dead…

“…Your Honor…” Miles said from near the witness stand, as serious as ever. “Due to the circumstances, Ms. Franziska von Karma can not appear in court today. I, Miles Edgeworth, will be taking her place. The prosecution is ready… naturally.”

The gallery murmured as Miles walked to the prosecution bench.

“Ms. von Karma was shot in her right shoulder, and is currently undergoing surgery. Luckily, I have looked this case over and am familiar with the details. The prosecution seeks to prove the guilt of Mr. Matt Engarde.”

“Th-The court acknowledges the prosecution,” the judge managed to say, still looking as though he was talking to a ghost.

“…Wright,” Miles called. “I finally found the answer I was struggling for on my long journey this past year.” He did his “evil smile,” knowing that finding the same path would be a painful transition for Wright. “By the time this case comes to an end, you too, will know the answer.

“Now then, the prosecution would like to call its first witness… Please bring Detective Gumshoe to the witness stand!”

Gumshoe entered a moment later, dragging his feet. Franziska had called for his dismissal the previous day, and the Chief had agreed to it. In truth, Gumshoe’s incompetence had likely earned him three dismissals by that point.

“Witness, your name and occupation,” Miles ordered calmly.

“My name’s Dick Gumshoe, sir,” the detective whimpered. “I’m a detective down at the precinct… for now.”

“‘For now’…?” the judge repeated.

“After this trial’s over… I’m supposed to turn in my badge, sir.”

There was a brief pause. I return after a year for this melodrama?

“The prosecution has no need for a depressed witness,” Miles stated. He struck his desk. “Lift your head up and face forward like a proud officer, Detective Dick Gumshoe!”

“Y-Yes, sir!” Gumshoe answered, revived.

“Now, let’s have your testimony. If we want to explore the various facets of this case, we must start with that.”

“Get ready, Phoenix,” Wright’s aide said. “This is going to be one very rough fight.”

“Yeah…” Wright replied. “It would have to be with Edgeworth as my opponent.”

Miles motioned for Gumshoe to begin his testimony.

“This murder happened after the Hero of Heroes award ceremony, sir,” Gumshoe said. “The victim, Juan Corrida, was found dead in his hotel room. After looking into the cause of death, we believe he was definitely murdered, sir. At first, we thought there was something suspicious about the empty guitar case. However, we later found out that the guitar case had nothing to do with the murder.”

“Hmm…” the judge mumbled. “After the award ceremony ended, the victim was alone in his room…?”

“Yes, sir! Both the victim and defendant went alone to their rooms, sir.”

“I see. Mr. Wright, you may begin your cross-examination.”

Wright was handed the transcript.

“Would you please give us a brief timeline of what happened after the ceremony?” he asked.

“OK, pal,” Gumshoe answered. “The ceremony started at 6 PM. It ended around 8 PM… and then there was a short break. A special post-ceremony show was supposed to start in the lobby 30 minutes later.”

“And that’s when the victim’s body was found, correct?”

“Which is to say,” Miles cut in, “the murder occurred during that thirty minute break period.”

“Hmm…” the judge muttered. “Please continue with your testimony, Detective.”

“The victim,” Gumshoe said, “Juan Corrida, was found dead in his hotel room.”

“Hold it!” Wright barked. “The person who discovered the victim’s body was Adrian Andrews, correct?”

“…Yeah.”

“Who is this ‘Adrian Andrews’ you’re talking about?” the judge asked.

“She’s the defendant, Matt Engarde’s, manager. She’s a really pretty lady… sir.”

I suppose I can admit to agreeing with that…

“Ah, so she’s a pretty lady…” the judge commented. “I wonder if she will grace us with her presence…”

“When the post-ceremony show was about to start, she went to get Mr. Engarde,” Gumshoe continued. “After visiting his room, she next went to the victim’s room to get him for the show, sir.”

“I see… And that’s when she found the victim’s body…”

“After looking into the cause of death, we believe he was definitely murdered, sir.”

“The cause of death…” Wright cut in. “Wasn’t that because Mr. Corrida was stabbed in the chest…?”

“Only a careless amateur would believe something so brainless as that, pal,” Gumshoe said, taking out a photograph.

That would explain why you believed it…

“Take a good, hard look at the crime photo,” Gumshoe said. “Now, a real pro’s attention would be drawn here, to this bandana.”

“Mmm… ‘Banana’…” the judge muttered, looking as though he couldn’t wait for lunch.

“Um, his ‘bandana’, sir… That’s the thing wrapped tightly around his neck, sir.”

“Ah, yes, yes. I see. His banana-scented bandana.”

You may see, though you clearly can’t hear…

“Then, what about the knife…?” Wright asked.

“It seems to have been stuck in the victim’s chest on purpose after his death,” Gumshoe answered.

“Hmm…” the judge mumbled. “We have a crafty murderer on our hands here.”

“At first, we thought there was something suspicious about the empty guitar case,” Gumshoe continued.

“And why did you think that?” Wright asked.

“Because it was empty, pal. The Jammin’ Ninja doesn’t go anywhere without his bright red guitar. And we couldn’t find it anywhere at the scene of the crime.”

“Oh!” the judge chimed in. “Then how about this theory! A fan really wanted the guitar and did the crime to get it! How’s that!?”

The defendant’s Matt Engarde, not some obsessed fan.

“Um, we thought of that too… But…”

“But…?” Wright repeated.

“The only fingerprints on the guitar case were the victim’s.”

“Only the victim’s huh…?”

“Hmm…” the judge mumbled, a bit disappointed. “I see. Ah, so much for my theory then…”

“However, we later found out that the guitar case had nothing to do with the murder,” Gumshoe said.

“What convinced you it had nothing to do with the case?” Wright asked.

“The guitar wasn’t at the Gatewater Hotel that night.”

“Well then, where was it?” the judge asked.

“The bright red guitar was eventually found at the TV studio. The victim, Juan Corrida, had apparently only taken the case with him, sir.”

“So you mean he forgot to put the guitar inside the case…?”

“Yes, sir. Even when he was onstage for the ceremony, he didn’t have his guitar.”

“So that guitar case was empty even before he got to the hotel…” Wright muttered.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Gumshoe replied. “So it really had nothing to do with the case after all.”

“Hmm…” the judge mumbled.

“I believe that is enough,” Miles said. “First, the victim was choked to death with his bandana. Then, after the victim was dead, the killer deliberately stabbed him with a knife.”

“Hmm…”

“Which brings me to my next point. Why then, did the police arrest Matt Engarde…? Because there was reason enough to suspect him.”

“Very well. Detective Gumshoe, please testify about this matter.”

“Yes, sir! Matt Engarde and Juan Corrida were huge rivals with each other. They each thought the other guy was ‘in his way’. That’s motive enough in my book. As for evidence… There’s the Jammin’ Ninja’s button. It was ripped off of the ninja costume and was found in Mr. Engarde’s ‘hakama’. The defendant’s fingerprints were also all over the knife. The defendant bought the knife for the crime… Which makes this a premeditated murder!”

“Hmm… So the defendant’s fingerprints were found on the knife used in the stabbing.”

“It was sort of sticky on the handle, so the fingerprints came out pretty clearly, sir,” Gumshoe said, holding a bag with the knife in it. “…And there’s this button.” He held up the button.

“That was found in the defendant’s clothes, was it? Hmm… And is this button also covered in blood…?”

“Yes, and we know that the blood on it is the victim’s blood, sir.”

“What!?” Wright yelped.

Ah, how I’ve missed that cold sweat.

“All of this points very clearly to the defendant, doesn’t it?” the judge asked.
“Yes, it most certainly does, Your Honor,” Miles replied, taking a bow. “Ready to give in yet, Wright?”

“Hmph!” Wright countered. “I’ll find the hole in your argument somehow!”

“You can press as hard as you’d like. Just hurry up with your usual pointless questions.”

“Grrrrrrrrr…” He looked over the transcript. “Do you have any proof that button belonged to the victim?”

“Huh?” Gumshoe uttered. “I don’t get you, pal.”

“Oh,” Wright mumbled, apparently having forgotten the intellect of this particular witness. “Umm, let me put it this way… I’m asking you if you have any evidence to back up your claim that, “this button was ripped off of the Jammin’ Ninja’s costume’.”

“Huh? But can’t you tell by just looking at it?”

Wright didn’t respond.

“A-And the victim’s blood is on it.”

Wright hit his desk. “Anyone could have smeared that blood on there afterward.”

“M-M-Mr. Edgeworth… Help me… sir!” Gumshoe whimpered.

I’m beginning to understand why you were fired.

“…Thread,” Miles stated calmly.

“Huh?” Wright asked.

“The button was attached to the costume by thread, obviously. And that thread snapped when the button was torn off. If you match up the ends of the thread on the costume with the thread on the button, it’s a perfect match.”

“Yeah, that’s it!” Gumshoe exclaimed. “They’re a perfect match, pal!”

“Urk,” Wright groaned, sinking into a cold sweat.

“That’s Edgeworth for you,” Wright’s aide commented. “Never misses a beat.”

Wright returned to looking over the transcript, then at the Court Record. After a moment, he struck his desk.

“Wait a second!” he yelled.

“Wh-What?” Gumshoe stammered.

“So the basis of your argument that this was a premeditated murder is simply that my client ‘bought a knife beforehand’?”

“That’s right, pal. The defendant…”

“Did not buy this knife,” Wright interrupted.

“H-Huh!?”

“Take a good look at the handle of this knife, and you’ll know what I’m talking about.”

Gumshoe was given the knife to look at. “…Huh?”

“It has a ‘Gatewater’ seal set into the handle…” the judge commented, reading the Court Record.

“‘Gatewater’…? I think I’ve heard that name somewhere before.”

“That’s the name of the hotel,” Wright grumbled. “The Gatewater Hotel.”

“…Uh oh.”

Wright struck his desk. “The murder knife was actually property of the hotel!” He pointed at Gumshoe, who jumped a bit. “Which means this murder was not premeditated!”

The gallery started up. The judge banged his gavel.

“Yes, that is very true!” the judge agreed. “This is a very big…”

“Heh heh heh…” Miles chuckled. Pathetic…

“Wh-What is it, Mr. Edgeworth?” the judge asked.

“I’m sorry, but the defense is simply too careless.”

“What!?” Wright barked. Miles did his “evil smile.”

“I think whether the crime was premeditated or not… has already been determined.”

“H-How so!?”

“I admit this knife is hotel property. There is no one currently on the police force that is dumb enough not to realize this.”

“…But I didn’t kn…” Gumshoe started, but stopped himself upon realizing he was no longer on the force. “Oh…” He whimpered.

“The question is…” Miles struck his desk. “Where did this knife come from?”

“Wh-Why that’s obvious!” the judge answered. “It came from the victim, Mr. Corrida’s room…”

“Sorry, Your Honor, but that is incorrect,” Miles said with a confident shrug. “The victim ate a last meal before he was murdered. With that being the case…” He took out a photograph of the victim’s room. “I would like to draw the court’s attention to what is on top of the table.” The judge was handed the photograph. He took a moment to make out the tiny detail Miles was referring to.

“There is a knife and fork on the table!” he exclaimed. He held up the murder weapon. “Then… Where in the world did this knife come from!?”

Miles smiled again. “If it pleases the court… I would like for us to recall the room of the defendant, Mr. Matt Engarde.” He took out another photograph. “Especially what was on top of his table… There is something missing… Perhaps, it is a single knife? We investigated the leftover dishes for fingerprints, and while we were investigating, we came to the conclusion that Mr. Matt Engarde’s knife was missing.”

“Urk…” Wright groaned, hunched over.

“Mr. Engarde had gone to the victim’s room with the knife he had used during dinner. Why would he carry a knife on a visit? To kill, of course. And with that, I believe the prosecution has proven…” He took a bow. “This was a premeditated murder.”

The gallery started up, silenced by the judge’s gavel.

“Amazing, Mr. Edgeworth,” he said. “Absolutely brilliant. A brilliantly clear deduction.”

“It seems like Edgeworth had this planned from the very beginning…” Wright’s aide sighed.

The judge banged his gavel. “A murder weapon with fingerprints, and a button from the victim’s costume. There is quite a sizable amount of evidence here.”

“I can safely say that any further deliberation is a waste of Your Honor’s time,” Miles said. “Although… I wouldn’t mind if the defense were to present evidence not yet shown to the court.”

Though in the end, the verdict will still be the same…

“He means evidence that the court hasn’t seen yet,” Wright’s aide explained. “In other words, new evidence.”

“What does the defense have to say about this, Mr. Wright?” the judge asked.

“Um, well…” Wright stammered.

“Phoenix,” the aide said. “The judge is favoring the prosecution right now. If we answer with something wrong here…” She let it trail off.

“Mr. Wright, do you have something important and necessary to present to this court?” the judge asked.

Wright struck his desk, trembling. “There’s one…” he started, apparently trying to think as he went.

One what? One defense attorney stalling for time?

“One piece of evidence that catches my attention,” Wright continued. “Something that this court has yet to see!”

“Mr. Wright,” the judge said. “I will say this one more time. I do not feel this trial needs to continue at all. …However, I am giving you one chance… and only one.”

“What the judge is saying, Wright,” Miles said, “is don’t try pulling one of your usual bluffs here.”

“You may now present one, and only one piece of evidence. Now then, what is this important evidence that you must show to the court?”

“Take that!” Wright shouted, pulling a picture of a wine glass out of his files.

The wine glass… It is new evidence, but it’s not important.

“This… is a wine glass, is it not?” the judge asked.

“Please look at the photo of the crime scene one more time!” Wright requested. “The scene is a mess because of the victim’s struggle against his assailant. The vase was broken, his make-up is all over the floor… These were all things that were at one point, sitting on top of the dresser.”

“Hmm… Well, yes, I see your point.”

“However! This glass that is sitting on top of the dresser is mysteriously untouched. The only thing that had not fallen over along with everything else is this wine glass!” He pounded on his desk, then pointed at the judge. “This piece of evidence is more than strange enough to warrant further consideration!”

Everyone was silent. Is that all?

“W-Well?” Wright begged. “What do you all have to say…?”

“Ah, well, yes, it is a little peculiar…” the judge said.

“Y-Yes, isn’t it!? I thought it was!”

“You can stop looking at me with those puppy dog eyes of yours now. Mr. Edgeworth?”

“What is it, Your Honor?” Miles replied.

“Your opinion…”

“…You don’t need my opinion. Because there is no special meaning to that glass.”

“…What!?” Wright yelped.

Miles shook his head in amusement at Wright’s ignorance. “It’s safe to say that the glass was set there after the crime took place. By the person who discovered the body, Adrian Andrews, for example. She could have easily been so shocked that she set the glass down without thinking.”

“Hmm…” the judge mumbled. “That does sound very plausible. Mr. Wright?”
Wright thought for a moment. He appeared to realize Miles was right.

“You can’t think like that, Phoenix,” Wright’s aide said.

“Mia…” he uttered, confused.

Must be a coincidence. Even Mia Fey wouldn’t dress that lightly—not to mention she’s dead.

“Right now,” she continued, “you’re hanging on by a very thin thread. Anything else you can grab onto right now is better than nothing!”

Wright struck his desk. “The defense would like to challenge the prosecution’s theory,” he said. “We would like to see something that proves it was Ms. Andrews who set the cup on the table!”

“Hmm…” the judge muttered. “You’ve turned the situation on its head yet again, as usual.”

The only thing turned on its head was Wright as an infant.

“Mr. Edgeworth,” the judge continued. “Do you have any proof to back up your claim?”

Wright looked confident that Miles had nothing.

“Unlike Mr. Wright,” Miles said, “I never say anything unless I have the evidence to support it.”

“Wh-What!?” Wright gasped. Miles did his “evil smile.”

“You’re not thinking hard enough today, Wright. Did you think this wine glass escaped my notice?”
“Th-Then…”

“Of course it has been thoroughly inspected… for fingerprints.”

“Fingerprints…”

“There were only one set of fingerprints left on this wine glass.”

“Only one?” the judge asked. “Well, whose were they!?”

“They were not the victim’s nor the defendant’s,” Miles answered. “Rather, they were of one Adrian Andrews.”

“WHAT!?” Wright howled.

“That is why I said that the person who had discovered the body had left it there.” He took a bow. “Are we done here, Mr. Wright?”

Wright said nothing, but the sweat running down his face told all. He was kicking himself over falling into another trap.

“Ms. Andrews was probably holding the glass when she went to see Mr. Corrida,” Miles continued. “But upon seeing his dead body, she was stunned, and set the glass down on the dresser.”

“Hmm…” the judge mumbled. “What you just said makes a lot of sense.”

“Tsk tsk tsk… Now do you see, Wright? You can’t change any part of my scenario as it explains everything all too well.”

“Grrr!” Wright growled.

“I’ve thought long and hard this past year about what it means to be a ‘prosecutor’.” He pointed a challenge at Wright. “And from here on out, I will show you the answer I have come to discover!”

“W-Wait a second…” the judge interrupted. “Mr. Edgeworth! I think the prosecution has provided enough evidence for me to enter my verdict…”

Miles shook his head. The whole truth has yet to make itself clear, Your Honor. There will be no verdict until it does. “Unfortunately,” Miles said, “I can not allow you to pass judgment yet. The prosecution has yet another witness we would like the court to hear from.”

“‘Another witness’…?” Wright repeated.

“Yes. Bailiff! Please bring in the next witness!”

“What in the world is Mr. Edgeworth thinking?” Wright’s aide muttered.

An elderly person in an outfit that looked like something out of a cheap space-themed movie approached the stand. She was wearing a tinted fishbowl over her head, making it impossible to see her face. According to the report, it was the annoying security guard from the Steel Samurai case.

“Now then, witness,” Miles said, “please state your name and occupation…”

The witness didn’t respond. Miles struck his desk.

“Witness! Your name and occupation, please!”

He was interrupted by the sound of a cheap toy ray gun firing.

“Uurrngh!” he roared, hunching over his desk.

“…Heh,” the witness chuckled, taking off her helmet. “G.O.T.C.H.A!”

“Grrrrrrrrr…”

“Oh, Edgey-boy! It’s been what, a year since we last met, hasn’t it? You should be more happy to see me!”

If I weren’t worried she’d refuse to testify if I did so, I’d tell her I’m engaged just to shut her up… “I saw the report with her testimony, but who knew that under that helmet… it was the wicked witch of the witness stand!?”

“I tell you, this time I know what I’m supposed to do! So today, I’m going to tell you anything and everything! Even things that don’t have to do with that terrible crime.”

“Ms… Witness…” the judge managed to say. “‘That terrible crime’ is all this court needs to know.”

Oldbag “fired” her ray gun. That device is more annoying than the sound of Ema munching on that snack food she’s been eating lately…

“Oof!” the judge blurted.

“Shush!” Oldbag demanded. “I’m talking to my dear Edgey-Wedgey right now! Don’t interrupt us, gramps!”

“Yes, madam.”

“No no no,” Miles growled, “please, by all means interrupt her! Please!” He cleared his throat and straightened up. “Anyway, witness, your testimony please.”

“It’s true what they say that youth are hotheaded nowadays,” Oldbag said, trying to flirt. “Not that I mind at all, Edgey. Now then, what should I start with…?”

“The witness was on security detail at the hotel on the night of the murder. Is this correct, Ms. Oldbag?”

“It was a great job being able to see my dearie Juan! It was almost too much for my little heart to handle!”

“You mean…” the judge trailed off. “You were a fan of the victim?”

“Look, everyone is crazy over that Engarde, saying he’s cute in a fresh way, or something. But not me! I wouldn’t say anything so silly. After all, I have no interest in a little child like him.”

And yet you are infatuated with someone two months younger than him…

“I’m only interested in a real man: Juan Corrida!”

And because I’m only interested in a real lady, you’ll only be dating me in your dreams.

“AAnnyywwaayy, aass II wwaass ssaayyiinngg, II wwaass ppaacciinngg iinn ffrroonntt ooff hhiiss rroomm tthhaatt nniigghhtt.”

“Vveerryy wweellll,” Miles replied, imitating Oldbag’s intentionally slow speech. “Please tell the court what you witnessed the night of the murder.”

“Leave it to me, Edgey-poo! Anyway, after the ceremony, I went to pace around in the hallway in front of his room. There was something I was interested in finding out, you know… Well, since I was on the job, I made sure to keep a good eye out the whole time. That’s when someone showed up! It was a man coming out of poor Juan’s room. It was Engarde. Matt Engarde. He was trying to sneak his way out of Juan’s room!”

“Hmm…” the judge mumbled. “So Mr. Engarde came out from the victim’s room…”

“See!” Oldbag squawked. “It has to be him! He’s the murderer!”

I don’t doubt that, but our proof still isn’t decisive.

“I see,” the judge said. “Well, Mr. Wright. You may begin your cross-examination.”

“Ms. Oldbag,” Wright started, “what was your post on that night?”

“The lobby,” Oldbag replied. “I was supposed to help set up the stage for that trifling show. But I refused to help, I’ll have you know. It was for that Lead-headed Samurai’s show. Heh, I even took out a few of the nails.”

In that case, maybe it’s better that the show was cancelled…

“Besides,” she continued, “that manager with the glasses seemed to be working hard at it without me. So I thought I’d take a break and spread my wings a little.”

“And that’s when you went to hang around the victim’s door?”

“There was something I was interested in finding out, you know…”

“Something you were ‘interested’ in? And just what was that?”

“It’s not some little thing I can just go around telling everyone, you know. It’s top secret, between me and Juan. Ah, and Edgey, of course.”

“Mr. Edgeworth,” the judge cut in. “What is this thing she was ‘interested’ in…?”

Probably that fallacious article… “I have no idea,” Miles said. “I despise gossip, Your Honor.” He looked to the witness. “If this has something to do with the case, then you can append it to your testimony.”

“It looks like we shouldn’t force it right now,” Mia said to Wright.

“Hmm…” the judge mumbled. “And did the witness stay in the vicinity of the victim’s door the entire time?”

“Well,” Oldbag replied, “since I was on the job, I made sure to keep a good eye out the whole time.”

“Oh?” Wright asked. “Then would you tell us the number of people who went in and out of Mr. Corrida’s room?”

“I have no idea! I wasn’t born so I could count things for those who didn’t pay attention in class! That’s why ever since I turned 20, I quit keeping track of how old I really am!”

“…Yes, well, that would explain why your age was not recorded in the report,” the judge commented.

Technically, her age is known, though the nitwit who typed up the report must have forgotten to add it.

“In any case…” Miles said. “The witness then saw someone, correct?”

“That’s when someone showed up!” Oldbag agreed. “It was a man coming out of poor Juan’s room.”

Wright struck his desk. “Who in the world was that!?” he asked.

Who do you think?

“I’m not allowed to say!” Oldbag replied.

What do you mean “not allowed to say!?” You just testified earlier that it was Engarde!

“This sort of information has to be carefully guarded from the masses, sonny,” she continued. “The man that came out of Juan’s room…” She paused. “It was…” She paused again, more hesitance in her voice. “He was…”

“Yes…?” the judge asked, apparently not recalling the testimony. “He was…?”

“…Ah! I’m too scared! I can’t say his name out loud!”

Perhaps I should have taken Franziska’s whip with me…

“Well, I guess I can tell you, since he was such a bad boy anyway,” Oldbag continued. “It was Engarde. Matt Engarde. He was trying to sneak his way out of Juan’s room!”

“Hold it!” Wright yelled. “You saw my client!? Are you sure about that!?”

“Yessey!”

“Really?”

“Annoying brat! When I say I saw someone, I saw that person!”

I suppose that works just as well as objecting to badgering…

“Please tell the court about the man’s clothes in more detail!” Wright demanded.

“What a troublesome man you are,” Oldbag replied. “Really, as if something like that matters.”

“But it does,” Wright muttered.

Thinking back… I’ll let this go.

“Um… Now what was it… Oh, yes, it was that thing,” Oldbag said, trying to remember.

“What thing?” Wright asked.

“That gaudy thing he’s always wearing. That racing jacket. That thing’s meant for nothing but seducing women out of their pantaloons! Hmph! Men!!”

Great… Her memory’s mistaken. Knowing Wright, he’ll ask for it to be added to the testimony, then object if he sees the problem.

“Um, right…” Wright commented.

“So, Mr. Wright,” the judge called. “Was this testimony just now important or relevant in any way?”

“Hmm…” He pounded on his desk. “Of course it was important, Your Honor!”
“Objection!” Miles shouted. “Then perhaps you would like to point out what part of that testimony was important!”

“Don’t you see it, Edgeworth?” Wright taunted.

I do, but the question is do you?

“Your Honor!” Wright shouted, pointing. “I request what the witness said about the jacket be appended to her testimony.”

“Hmm…” the judge mumbled. “I don’t quite see where you’re going with this, but alright. Witness, please…”

“Ah well,” Oldbag sighed, “I don’t like to bad-mouth anyone without reason, but if I must… He was wearing his flashy racing jacket. Honestly, it’s all just for show.”

“Objection!” Wright yelled, pointing at the witness. “Ms. Oldbag…”

“What!?” she snapped. “Don’t say my name for no reason!”

“Do you know what this is?” Wright asked, indicating the button.

“Aaaah! It’s button number 2 on the Jammin’ Ninja’s costume!”

Sad…

“Give it here!” she yammered. “Give it here! If you don’t give it to me, I’ll punish you with this!” She fired her ray gun.

“This button was discovered on Mr. Engarde’s body during a full body search,” Wright said.

“See! See! This button proves beyond a shadow of a doubt it was that rascal Engarde!”

“It was caught up in the pleats of his Nickel Samurai hakama pants.”

“See! See! And Engarde is the Nickel Samurai!”

Wright hit his desk. “…Witness! Now, it may just be me, and I do have an active imagination, but just now, didn’t you say that the defendant… Matt Engarde was wearing his ‘usual racing jacket’!?”

Oldbag didn’t respond for a moment.

“…Ah…” she finally said. “I’m so sorry.” She paused. “Sorry that you judge people based on what they wear!” she snapped. “If I wore the trendiest dress, then maybe you’d think I was the most gorgeous woman ever! But instead, I have to put up with wearing this ridiculous-looking outfit. You’d agree this outfit is hideous, right? I've got a tape recorder stuck on my chest! Lemme tell you, it's HEAVY! So heavy, I wish we would have switched to CDs ages ago! But I'm keeping that dream alive for all those kids out there, I work hard with a smile on my face, don't you understand!? Now, take a look in the mirror. Your clothes are about as interesting as a documentary on curling! You should take a tip or ten from Edgey-poo. Now HE'S got style!”

She fired her gun.

The judge banged his gavel. “Now hold your tongue still there for one second!” he commanded. “So what you saw in actuality, was not Mr. Engarde, the man… but Mr. Engarde, the Nickel Samurai!?”

“But when you think about it…” Oldbag started, cut off by the gallery’s chatter. The judge banged his gavel. “They’re really one and the same anyway…”

Wright pounded on his desk. “Ms Oldbag!” he yelled. “This is a very important point we’re talking about!”

“Edgey-poo! Do you think so too?”

This is too familiar for comfort… “Well,” Miles replied, “it might be something worth thinking about.”

“Just say, ‘It’s important’ and agree with me for a change!” Wright complained. The judge pounded his gavel.

“Witness!” he called. “Think carefully and try to remember as much as you can before you testify!”

Oldbag sighed. “Alright, if you insist.”

It’s the court that should be sighing, not you.

“Engarde… Engarde… Yes, now I remember! The Nickel Samurai, that’s right, it was the Nickel Samurai that I saw! Yes, it would have been convenient for him to wear his costume during the murder. He had to go to that post-ceremony stage show right after the crime, you know. So he must’ve worn that Nickel Samurai costume when he was stabbing poor Juan.”
Oldbag stopped, having nothing more to add for the time being. Wright was in his usual position—slumped over, his teeth gritted, and a cold sweat running down his face.

“I… I knew it…” Wright murmured. He then pounded on his desk. “I knew you’d say he was inside that costume!”

“What?” Oldbag replied. “Do you think there could’ve been someone else inside that costume? Don’t be a bad little boy, thinking such rude things.”

“But… But the possibility does exist!”

“Ah, young’uns today. I told you, there is no way it was anyone else.”

“H-How do you know that?” the judge asked.

“Because… I said so. And what I say is the truth.”

How my father was able to deal with cross-examining people like this is beyond me…

“Mr. Wright,” the judge said. “You may cross-examine the witness.”

Wright looked over the transcript. “Be a little more careful with your testimony, please!” he shouted at Oldbag. “Not too long ago, you said he was wearing his ‘racing jacket,’ and now he’s not!?”

“‘Not too long ago’…?” Oldbag replied. “Then let me ask you this! When you were itty-bitty, what was your grand dream?”

How is this relevant?

“…Huh?”

“What did you want to be when you grew up, whippersnapper!?”

“My dream, huh…? Well, I… uh, wanted to be Judge Wackner, hero of the Public’s Court. So what!?”

If it weren’t for Oldbag being here, I’d laugh.

“See!” Oldbag snapped. “And look at where you are now! You’re not Judge Wackner, are you!? Are you!?”

“Well…”

“‘What I said earlier…’ Who puts any weight into things like that!?”

With the exception of you, I can’t name anyone who doesn’t.

“The ‘now’ is everything! I can’t be held responsible for the ‘past’!”

What are you, a politician trying to deny involvement in a scandal?

“All that matters is that man was inside that costume. Isn’t that enough!?”
Annoyed, Wright looked over the testimony again.

“Please take a look at this,” he said, indicating the knife.

“Yeah, so, it’s a knife,” Oldbag responded. “Big deal. If you’re trying to scare me with that, I’ll have you know it won’t work!”

“No no, that’s not my intention at all…”

“That’s the knife that was used in the murder, correct?” the judge asked.

“Your Honor. Do you remember why this piece of evidence is important to this case?”

“You don’t even have to ask. It’s because the defendant’s fingerprints are on it.”

Right. The Nickel Samurai wears gloves. That will be a pain to explain away…

“Is that what you’re driving at…?” Miles asked.

“That is exactly what I am driving at.”

“What are we driving at?” the judge demanded. “And whose car are we driving?”

I almost missed his misinterpretations… Almost.

“If Mr. Engarde was really in the Nickel Samurai costume at the time of the murder,” Wright explained, pausing to hit his desk, “then it’s impossible for his fingerprints to have been left on this knife! Actually, he would have wiped all previous fingerprints on this knife right off!”

The gallery started up. The judge banged his gavel.

“Oh, that’s right!” he exclaimed. “The Nickel Samurai wears gloves, doesn’t he?”

“Objection!” Miles shouted, striking his desk. “He probably took his gloves off before he began the stabbing!”

“Objection!” Wright countered. “And why would he do something like that? To leave his prints on the murder weapon?” He beat his desk. “There is no way he would do something like that!”

“However, there is one possibility!”

“Then let’s hear your ‘possibility’!”

“It’s very simple. The defendant went to the victim’s room while in costume as the Nickel Samurai. At that time, the defendant held no intent to murder. He was probably just going to relax and talk with the victim about the stage show.” He hit his desk. “Which is why he took his gloves off!”

“Hmm…” the judge mumbled. “But the murder still did take place…”

“It’s well known that the defendant and the victim had bad blood between them,” Miles continued.

“Hmm, yes…” the judge agreed. “I have heard of that… Well, Mr. Wright? What do you have to say about Mr. Edgeworth’s theory…?”

Wright took a moment, but pounded on his desk moments later. “This theory contradicts something in an earlier testimony!” he shouted.

“Wh-What are you babbling about…?” Miles asked.

“Now, for argument’s sake, let’s suppose Mr. Engarde was the killer. If that’s the case, I think it’s impossible for the killer to have gone to the victim’s room without intent!” He indicated the knife. “This knife. This was used by Mr. Engarde at dinner.”

“Y-Yes, we did establish that,” the judge said.

“Which means that if my client was, in fact, the killer… Then he brought this knife with him when he went to visit Mr. Corrida.”

“I suppose…” Miles agreed.

“However, you just said it yourself. ‘At that time, the defendant held no intent to murder.’” Wright struck his desk. “If that were true, then why would he bring a knife!? He wouldn’t, would he!?”

“Hmm…” I can’t believe I missed something so obvious…

Wright hit his desk again. “Which means, Mr. Edgeworth, your theory was flawed from supposition one!”

The gallery began chattering.

“And one more thing!” Wright added over the chatter. “If the murderer was wearing the costume at the time of the murder… Then there should be glove marks left on the knife!” He hit his desk yet again. “Which means the defendant’s fingerprints shouldn’t be all over it like bees on a hive!”

Wait… Thinking about it, why should—

“And that brings me to my final point…” Wright continued, interrupting Miles’s thoughts. “This knife was planted by the real killer to hide their identity and mislead us!”

The gallery by now was yammering loudly enough to make the judge bang his gavel.

“O-Order!” he yelled. “Order, I say! Order in the court!!” He indicated the knife. “Was this knife really planted by the killer!? Why would the murderer do such a thing!?”

Technically, the knife says nothing about the killer, since Corrida was stabbed after—

“It’s to frame my client, Mr. Engarde, of course!” Wright responded to the judge’s question.

“To frame…”

“Objection!” Miles interrupted, beating his desk. “A-Aren’t you forcing the interpretation just a little too hard on this one!?”

“Objection!” Wright shouted back, hitting his desk harder. “But we just established that the witness saw the ‘Nickel Samurai’ in costume, and if that were true, then there shouldn’t be a single fingerprint on this knife!”

“Grrrrrrrrr!” Miles growled. I thought it was important, but it’s just a triviality that gave the defense an opening… And it’s all thanks to this blasted witness! “Witneeeeeesssssss!!” It’s amazing that no one’s killed her for being such a nuisance…

“…Looks like I’ve made your life a tiny bit more difficult, huh Edgey…?” Oldbag teased.

“Gnnnnngh…” Maybe it’s better that Franziska’s not prosecuting. She might accidentally kill the witness by whipping her too much…

“Witness, did you or did you not really see the Nickel Samurai?” the judge asked, his tone of voice making it clear he was getting annoyed, too.

“Well,” Oldbag answered,” I guess at first I might have forgotten, but…”

“Are you saying you mixed up Mr. Engarde with the Nickel Samurai, his character on TV!?” Wright asked.

“But I mean, I can’t really do anything about that!” Oldbag snapped. “Look, I was waiting around in front of their doors because, well… Well, I wasn’t waiting around for the Nickel Samurai, that’s for sure!”

Wright looked surprised.

It goes without saying that she wasn’t waiting for Engarde.

“Alright then…” Wright said. “Who were you waiting around for then?”

Oldbag was silent for a moment.

Come now, it’s not exactly nuclear chemistry.

“Hmph!” Oldbag grunted. “That’s top secret to anyone outside of security!”

“I have a feeling that you were waiting for Mr. Juan Corrida,” the judge said. “Am I correct, witness?”

“Ha ha ha. The way you think, you are a sad amateur with a terrible case of near-sightedness.”

“Amateur…? Me…? What am I an amateur of…?”

It appears Franziska was right on the dot here. I just wish I had arrived early enough to discuss with Ms. Andrews what she saw. Franziska’s notes were somewhat ambiguous…

“Maybe… Phoenix!” Mia whispered. “Maybe the old bag was waiting around for ‘that’ person!”

Wright paused to take in the hint. “Ms. Oldbag,” he called, digging through his files to get a photograph. “You were waiting for this person to come out of the victim’s room, weren’t you?”

You could just say her name rather than waste your time on a picture. Then again, you did that a year ago, too, if I recall correctly. Anything to get a chance to present something, am I right? Miles opened up his binder and flipped to the evidence section.

“Take that!” Wright yelled, taking out Ms. Andrews’s photo.

“Who is this person…?” the judge asked.

“This is Adrian Andrews, Mr. Engarde’s manager,” Wright replied.

“B-But why would the defendant’s manager be in the victim’s room…?”

“It seems that this is the latest rumor in circulation, Your Honor,” Miles stated, taking out a tabloid article. The bailiff handed it to the judge, who looked over it intently after reading a bit.

“…Hmm… Oh… This is… Well, this is… Hmm, hmm… Hah, I see…”

I never would have expected the judge to be interested in celebrity gossip… Political scandals, definitely, but not celebrities…

“Then this manager with the initials A. A.…” the judge said, pausing his “examination” of the article. “Are you saying it’s…?”

“Adrian Andrews,” Miles finished. “Without a doubt, the witness thought so as well.”

I’m not surprised by Ms. Oldbag’s interest in celebrity gossip, though.

“…Hmph,” Oldbag grunted. “Looks like you found me out. Well, that’s fine. I can throw away this whole sworn to confidentiality stuff.”

“W-Witness…?” the judge stammered. “What in the world are you…”

“Watch out, Phoenix,” Mia said. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this… A very bad feeling.”

“I got some information…” Oldbag said, her tone of voice indicating she was going to enjoy teasing the court with said information. “Some very secret information from a certain source. So that’s why I was doing my own little investigation… In secret, of course.”

“B-But what for…?” the judge asked.

“Oh, just for myself… Personal reasons and all that.”

The judge was silent.

I guess Ms. Andrews’s testimony will have to wait until after this fly is swatted. Hopefully, she’ll land soon.

“Well, Mr. Edgeworth,” the judge finally said. “How will you proceed from here?”

“I really don’t want to do this,” Miles answered, “however I cannot simply let this point slide.”

“I see. Very well then. Witness, please testify about this ‘secret information’.”

“Get ready,” Oldbag said. She then started firing her ray gun. “This is going to take the wind out of you young’uns!”

I’ve learned that my mentor killed my father. I assure you, whatever you have to say is nothing in comparison, no matter how shocking.

“That Engarde is one evil, evil man!” Oldbag spouted. “He thought he could ruin poor Juan by causing a huge scandal! So to do that, he sent his own manager to get in close with Juan! I cannot condone such dirty tricks! So I took action! …Oh, and this is top secret, you got that!? Nobody else but you and me know yet, OK?”

“The defendant sent his manager…?” the judge exclaimed. “What a distasteful topic for this court!”

“What!?” Oldbag snapped. “Nobody’s above gossip! And isn’t there a saying!? ‘The truth is never pleasant.’”

It’s certainly more pleasant than you are.

“Mr. Edgeworth,” the judge called. “What about this Adrian Andrews person…?”

“We have looked into the matter,” Miles replied, “and found that the ‘truth’ the article proposes is, in fact, baseless gossip.”

“Hmm… But should this be true… Then this proves that the defendant did bear ill-will towards the victim. Now then, Mr. Wright. You may cross-examine the witness.”

“Be careful,” Mia warned Wright. “The old bag seems rather excited right now.”

“That’s right!” Oldbag yelled. “Engarde is nothing but your average foul-blooded youth!”

Ironic that someone who despises young people so much tends to get infatuated with young men on a regular basis.

Wright examined the testimony. He read over it a few times, no doubt answering some of the questions for himself. He then put the testimony down.

“Wait!” he yelled out of the blue.

“What!? Oldbag demanded. “I’m a busy woman! Tea time with the kids is over!”

“Secret information that no one else knows yet…” He paused to bang on his desk. “If that’s true, then how do you know this ‘secret information’!?”

“Huh!? Well… That’s… because I’m a pro… Yes, that’s it…”

Only Gumshoe would be stupid enough to buy that… and possibly Larry…
Wright didn’t respond, just glaring at the witness.

“I-It’s a secret!” Oldbag snapped. “Even if you drill a hole into my brain, you’ll never find out!”

Wright paused, thinking. “So no one else is supposed to know this ‘secret information’, correct? If that’s true, then why do you know it, Ms. Oldbag…?”

I know that look. He’s going to present evidence.

“Wh-Wh-Why are you looking at me like that…?” Oldbag stuttered. “Stop that!”

“Witness!” Wright barked, pointing at the old crone. “I’m sad to say it, but this is how you found out this secret, isn’t it!?” He took out a file and started flicking it. “The ‘investigative photographer’, Lotta Hart…”

“Oh yes…” the judge recalled. “I remember that mischievous girl.”

…Right. The girl who photographed Yogi framing me…

“She reported that she had lost a certain note she had written to herself,” Wright continued.

“She reported such a thing…?” the judge asked.

“On that piece of paper, she had written some of her outrageo… er, impressions about the relationship between the victim and Ms. Andrews.”

“Wh-What!?” Oldbag exploded. “Outrageous ideas, you say!?”

“No no no, I said impressions,” Wright responded, trying to cover his mistake.

“Then… Then…!” She took a piece of paper out from behind the “machine” on the front of her uniform. “Then everything written on this piece of paper is completely meaningless!”

“Ah! That’s it! That’s the note!”

“Ah! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH! Noooo! You see, this is some-thing completely different! This is my top secret list of groceries to buyyyyyyy!!”

It was clear from the expressions on the faces of the gallery that no one believed her.

“Hmm, then you are the one who took Ms. Hart’s note?” the judge asked.

“I’m a huuuuuuuge fan of Juan’s, that’s why! That infamous, puffy-haired whippersnapper… She’s working with that evil Engarde! She said so herself! ‘En garde! I’m his sidekick!’ She was so happy, smiling like a silly duck. I was only checking what she had written!”

The courtroom, again, was silent.

…I’m so worried about what she’ll start raving about next that I don’t want to speak…

“Edgey-poo!” Oldbag sputtered upon realizing she was on the spot. “You believe me, don’t you!?”

“Nngh…” Miles grunted as he hunched forward over his desk. Like nitrogen triiodide, the slightest touch sets her off…

“I was only trying to help out like the angel I am!”

The only angel you could be is Lucifer…

“It’s only one little piece of paper!” Oldbag continued. “I’ve never taken anything else before!”

“You really should come with a supply of cheese to match your vintage whine.”

“Well, it was only a piece of paper,” the judge admitted. “I suppose we can overlook this just this once.”

How did we even get to this point? Is it even relevant? Oldbag was waiting for evidence of a scandal. What matters is that—

Wright hit his desk, interrupting Miles’s thoughts.

“Witness!” he yelled. “You said that the only thing you stole was that note. Is this correct?”

“S-S-Stole!?” Oldbag hissed. “Why don’t you listen more carefully, you annoying brat!? I saved this piece of paper from the terrible, lonely trash can! That’s all!”

“You’re lying, dammit! And I can prove it!!”

“Are you putting my credibility under scrutiny again!?”

Are you even credible to begin with!?

“Ms. Oldbag!” Wright called. “I don’t believe that the note is the only thing you stole that night!” He pounded on his desk. “Ms. Oldbag! That note was with a camera, inside its case, wasn’t it?”

“A camera…?” the judge asked.

“Yesterday, Lotta Hart was raising a huge stink over her camera. She kept saying something like, ‘My sweetie $1,600 camera disappeared on me!’”

“Why… Why… Witness!!”

“What is it, gramps?” Oldbag asked.

Wright hit his desk again. “If you have the note,” he explained, “then it is only logical that you have the camera too!”

“Grr… Looks like you found me out again, sonny…” She took out an expensive-looking camera. “Is this the camera you’re looking for?”

Forget getting her to leave me alone… It’s tempting to tell her I’m engaged just to see her suffer…

Miles noticed Wright didn’t look any happier about the mischievous old fly.

“Ah, that’s…!” Wright trailed off.

“What!?” Oldbag snapped. “Even though I look like this, I’m still a person, you know! I still eat meals like you, I fall in love… and ‘borrow’ things from people!”

“Um…” the judge mumbled. “I think your definition of ‘borrow’ is a bit off…”

“I saw that woman’s business card and that’s when I noticed it said, ‘Slimebag Celebrity Photographer Extraordinaire’! Well, when I saw that, I had to know what sort of pictures she had taken! I’m a professional security guard! It’s my business to know these things!”

You sure don’t act professional…

The judge banged his gavel in response to the gallery’s noise.

“Bailiff!” he called. “Check this camera’s photos. Hurry! We must examine them at once!”

The bailiff took the camera off to have the photographs printed out.



After a brief wait, Miles was handed the printed photographs. He flipped through them, many of them black-and-white photos of the various stars that were at the show.

Hard to believe such an expensive camera doesn’t produce color photos…

He stopped at one of them. It was of what appeared to be the Nickel Samurai leaving the victim’s room.

Funny… I could have sworn the defendant was taller than this. I’m sure Wright will bring that up…

Miles continued going through them. After reaching the end, he put the irrelevant photos aside, leaving only the Nickel Samurai picture.

“Well, Mr. Edgeworth…” the judge said. “What do we have?”

“There is only one photo that seems to be relevant to this case,” Miles said, holding the photo.

“Please present it to the court!” the judge demanded. Miles handed the photo to the bailiff, who handed it over to the judge. “Th-This is… This is the Nickel Samurai!”

“See, I told you!” Oldbag yowled. “That’s the guy I saw!”

“This proves that the witness was not lying earlier about this matter.”

“Wh-What does all this mean, Mr. Edgeworth!?” the judge asked.

“This photo by itself does not prove that the person in it is the defendant,” Miles admitted, holding the photograph. “However! In his own confession, Mr. Engarde clearly stated that…” He paused to hit his desk. “At the time of the murder, he was still in his Nickel Samurai costume!” The bailiff took the photo and placed it among the rest of the evidence.

“If that is the case, then… this Nickel Samurai is…”

Miles did his “evil smile.” “The defendant,” he finished.

The gallery started up. The judge whacked his gavel. “How did it come to this…?” he sighed. “I think this brings us to the end. We have examined every piece of evidence thoroughly. Final comments, Mr. Wright? The court will consider them before we close. Do you agree that this photo is decisive evidence against your client?”

Wright paused, clearly thinking. It was obvious that he was trying to find a problem. Finally, he opened his mouth to speak.

“This photo that Lotta took…” he said. “There’s…”

“something strange with it.”

Wright pounded on his desk. “There’s… There’s something strange with this photo!”

“I knew this was coming, Wright,” Miles said, doing his “evil smile.”

“Your thoughts, Mr. Edgeworth?” the judge asked.

“I think we can all agree there is nothing strange with this photo. There is no way for the defense to debunk this photo, even with a bunker buster.”

“‘Debunk with a bunker buster’!? Is that what you’re planning to do, Mr. Wright!?”

Wright paused, then struck his desk. “Um, anyway, please look at the photo one more time!”

“If you really believe you can honestly find something wrong with this photo,” the judge started, “then you should only need one chance, correct…?”

“Um… Well…”

I knew it. You’re just stalling until you actually find a problem.

Wright looked intensely at the photo. The judge banged his gavel after a moment.

“Now then, let’s hear your objection,” he said. “What about this photo is ‘strange’…?”

Wright apparently saw the problem, because he seemed to regain all his gusto and pointed at the Nickel Samurai’s ankles in the picture.

“I would like to direct the court’s attention to this one area right here!”

“Wh-What are you pointing to?” the judge asked, trying to see. “His ankles…?”

“If you could see this person’s ankle, that would be one thing… However you can’t.”

“A-And…? What does that mean…?”

“The ‘Nickel Samurai’ in this photo could not have been Mr. Engarde!”

“What is the meaning of this!?”

“Objection!” Miles shouted, hitting his desk. “I wonder if you would care to elaborate… With actual facts, that is.”

“Let’s take a look at the Nickel Samurai’s poster,” Wright began, taking out a promotional poster. “Please pay particular attention to the area around the bottom of the hakama.”

“His… His socks…” the judge commented. “You can see his socks…”

Wright nodded. “Exactly! However, in this photo… the Nickel Samurai is clearly holding up his hakama just to walk!”

And I think I can see what your conclusion is.

Wright pounded on his desk. “There is only one explanation for this!” he almost shouted. “The person inside this costume is clearly much shorter than the defendant!”

The gallery began yammering. The judge silenced them with three whacks of his gavel.

At last we arrive at the real fight… You’ve done well, Wright, but this is far from over.

“That’s curious…” Mia commented.

“Huh?” Wright yapped. “What is?”

“Edgeworth is unusually calm today…”

“That’s true…”

Catching on, are we?

“He’s just letting the trial run itself; as if he’s only along for the ride,” Mia continued.

“‘Along for the ride’…? What do you mean by that?”

“I can only think that perhaps he doesn’t feel under attack at all…”

The judge banged his gavel.

“Mr. Edgeworth!” he called. “Where does this leave us!?”

At a clear problem—one that will be solved today.

“If the person in this photo is not Matt Engarde… then everything the prosecution has tried to prove has become meaningless!”

The gallery started up.

Ha. I had forgotten how it felt to have the entire court’s eyes on me…

“Hmm…” Miles sighed. “I thought it would come to this.”

“WHAT!?” Wright yelped.

“Wright. I have something I want to ask you. I think you have proven that the person inside this costume is not Matt Engarde. In that case… who IS this a photo of…?”

Though I’m sure you already have an answer for us.

“Don’t stress out over this, Phoenix,” Mia said. “It’s very simple.” She turned to face Miles, who ignored her stare. “What you should be focused on is Edgeworth’s attitude, don’t you think?”

Wright followed Mia’s gaze.

Well?

“Mr. Wright,” the judge called. “Let’s hear your thoughts. Who is the person in this photograph…?”

“Take that!” Wright yelled, holding Ms. Andrews’s photograph.

Is it that hard to say a name, Wright?

“A-Adrian Andrews…?” the judge stammered.

“If you want to know who that Nickel Samurai is, it is none other than this woman!”

“And why would you say it would be Ms. Andrews!?” Miles demanded. “What in the world points you to her?”

“For starters, she’s short. And, she can freely move in and out of Mr. Engarde’s room. Finally, she had dinner with Mr. Engarde that night.”

“And how does that all add up?” the judge asked.

“It means that it makes it very easy for her to get a certain item. …A certain knife with Mr. Engarde’s fingerprints all over it!”

“The knife that was used as a murder weapon!”

“Why don’t you just say what it is you want, Wright?” Miles asked, impatient.
Wright pounded on his desk.

“The defense motions to indict Ms. Adrian Andrews in the murder of Juan Corrida! It was Ms. Andrews who tried to frame the defendant for the crime!”

The gallery began murmuring, not stopping until the judge banged his gavel.

“Order! Order!! ORDER!!” he bellowed. “It looks like this trial has hit a most unexpected development! Mr. Edgeworth!”

“Yes, Your Honor?” Miles answered.

“This court is issuing a subpoena for Ms. Adrian Andrews! A verdict cannot be passed without first hearing her testimony!”

And now the real fight begins. I suppose I should be glad the person on this case before me was Franziska; someone like Payne probably wouldn’t have seen this coming.

“This… is kind of bad for us,” Mia said.

“Huh?” Wright murmured. “What do you mean?”

“If Adrian Andrews is summoned to court as a witness… It means that the trial will go on for another day.”

“One more day…? Ack!!”

Why on Earth is an extension a problem? Not that it matters; Ms. Andrews is ready to be summoned any time.

The judge banged his gavel. “Now then,” he said, “we shall set Ms. Andrews’ testimony for tomorrow…” He banged his gavel again. “Now then…”

“Objection!” Wright interrupted, slamming his desk. “Please, Your Honor! Continue the trial! You must pass a verdict today!”

He must have a flight leaving tomorrow or something. Poor fellow.

“I can’t do that,” the judge replied. “We cannot hear Ms. Andrews’ testimony if she is not—”

“Hold it!” Miles interrupted. All eyes were on him. “I abhor wasting such valuable time…”

“E-Edgeworth?” Wright yowled, confused.

“Your Honor,” Miles called to the judge. “I request that you please continue with today’s trial.”

“B-But…” the judge stuttered. “We cannot continue due to this unexpected development!”

“Tsk, tsk. ‘Unexpected’ development? I think you underestimate me, Your Honor.”

“And what do you mean by that…?”

“That Mr. Wright would slave his way to subpoenaing Ms. Adrian Andrews is all happening according to plan… Even if Wright was a bit slow to catch on…”

“Wh-Wh-Wh…” Wright stammered, a cold sweat flowing down his face. “WHAAAAAAAAAAAAT!?”

The gallery, just as surprised as Wright, started chattering. The judge, the look on his face indicating that he, too, was surprised, banged his gavel.

“What is the meaning of your statement, Mr. Edgeworth!?” the judge asked.

“Ms. Adrian Andrews is currently waiting in the prosecution lobby…” Miles replied. He shook his head in amusement and shrugged. “She is the next witness.”

“Somehow, I knew there was no way Edgeworth would overlook Ms. Andrews…” Mia commented. “Looks like this battle is far from over.”

“Exactly,” Miles responded, taking a bow.

The judge banged his gavel. “Very well,” he said. “We will call the next witness. However… Before we proceed, we shall take a 10 minute recess. Please prepare your witness in that time, Mr. Edgeworth.”

I had no intent to do anything else, considering that I have yet to even speak to her.

“The court will now take a 10 minute recess,” the judge announced, subsequently banging his gavel.



“Edgey-poo!” Oldbag called as Miles walked toward the prosecution lobby. Miles sighed in annoyance as he heard the sound of her running to catch up to him. “I was so worried about you! I had heard from that pretentious young upstart with the whip that you were dead! Do you have any idea what it’s like to lose someone you love? Why, I still remember when my big sister bought the farm. She was always fawning over this guy she’d never get, and let me tell you, I always told her she wasn’t going to get him, but of course she—”

“Ms. Oldbag,” Miles interrupted. “You’re no longer needed.”

“Oh, but I wanted to see you teach that spiky-headed whippersnapper and that immodest girl next to him a—”

“You are free to watch from the gallery if you’re that insistent, but I have a witness to prepare and would rather not have any distractions.”

“Don’t worry about that silly manager girl; she’s smart enough to—”

“Please leave me.”

“Never! You’re mine for—”

“Could you please escort this woman out of this area?” Miles asked the officer near the lobby entrance.

“Yes, sir,” the officer replied, saluting. Oldbag complained and struggled, but Miles didn’t listen to her rant as he entered. As he expected, Ms. Andrews was waiting in the prosecution lobby.

“Sorry about the noise,” Miles said. “You must be Ms. Andrews.”

“I am,” the woman replied. “May I have your name?”

“Miles Edgeworth. I took over prosecuting after Ms. von Karma was prevented from showing up.”

“Is she going to be okay? I heard she was shot…”

“The last time I heard from the hospital, she was in no danger, though her shoulder will likely hurt for at least a few days. Moving on… I need to know more about your involvement in what happened.”

“My… involvement?”

“Ms. von Karma left some interesting notes on what you’ve said. I’d like to confirm what happened.”

“…Very well. I entered Juan’s room after checking on Matt and saw him dead. I was so shocked that I felt faint, so I poured myself some juice that was sitting on the table.”

“…And that’s all?” Miles asked after Ms. Andrews fell silent.

“That’s all.”

Why am I reminded of when Lana tried to convince me she had killed Goodman? I suppose Franziska didn’t leave anything in her notes hinting to anything else, but considering the trail of evidence and testimony we’ve followed up to this woman, her involvement can’t just be a dead end… I suppose we’ll find the hidden path behind the brush when court reconvenes. I suppose if the necessity arises, I can use her little secret to force the truth out of her, though I’d rather not cause her more stress than necessary.

“Hmph,” Miles chuckled. “Your attitude reminds me of the way my fiancée was a few years ago. Back then, she had quite the secret to guard. I should hope that’s not the reason behind your behavior.”

“What are you trying to imply, Mr. Edgeson?” Ms. Andrews asked.

“Edgeworth,” Miles corrected. “And I am warning you that the defense is not to be underestimated; though he usually makes claims first and presents the evidence to support it later, he’s no idiot. I have yet to see a lie get past him in court. And I won’t tolerate any lies, either. If you have told me only the truth and left nothing out, I am sorry for treating you like this, but know that if you have been lying or intend to lie on the stand, or if you are withholding something important from the court, Wright and I will stop at nothing to find the truth you are keeping from us.”

“Mr. Edgeworth, you’re needed in court,” the bailiff called.

Perfect timing. “Shall we?” Miles asked Ms. Andrews as he walked toward the door.



The judge banged his gavel, calling court back into session.

“Court will now reconvene,” he announced. “Now then, Mr. Edgeworth, if you please.”

“The prosecution calls the witness subpoenaed by this court,” Miles stated. “Ms. Adrian Andrews, the person who discovered the crime in Mr. Juan Corrida’s room!”

Ms. Andrews was escorted to the stand. She was fidgeting with what looked a gift card from some local knickknack shop.

“What is your occupation?” Miles asked.

“I am the manager of the defendant in this case, Mr. Matt Engarde,” Ms. Andrews answered.

“I see,” the judge said. “Now then…”

“Before we begin, Your Honor,” Ms. Andrews interrupted, “I have one request.”

“Uh, yes, sure. What is it?”

“I’m sure everyone in this room is wondering the same thing, and would love to find out more about my relationship with the victim. After all, it was the topic of a certain weekly ‘magazine’ recently…”

“Ah, no, I have no idea what you mean. I’ve never even heard of ‘Gossip Land’…”

If the judge was ever a witness, he’d do all of the defense’s work on his own…

“Anyway, I was wondering if you could please tell us about your relation to the victim,” Miles requested.

“Yes, I was seeing Mr. Corrida,” Ms. Andrews replied. “I was also aware of the rivalry that existed between Matt and Juan… But this was a private matter between Juan and myself.”

Likely about Ms. Inpax, but that’s a story for another testimony.

“Hmm, so it was a ‘fry ’n bait’ matter…” the judge commented. “Or was that ‘bait ’n fry’? Reminds me of fishing…”

“But I…” Ms. Andrews cut in. “But I didn’t kill him.”

“No one has accused you of that,” Miles assured her.

“I’ve got a feeling someone will soon…”

Wright, from the look on his face, knew she was referring to him.

“I think we all understand your relationship with the victim now, Ms. Andrews,” the judge said with a nod.

“Very well then,” Miles added. “Witness, please testify to the court about what happened when you discovered the murder that had taken place.”

Ms. Andrews waited until she was sure everyone was paying attention, all the while fidgeting with her card.

“It was time for the show to start,” she began, “so I went to get Matt from his room. After that, I went to Juan’s room. And there was his dead body. I… I was in shock… What I saw was, naturally, the exact same scene as in the crime scene photo. I felt as though I was about to faint, so I poured myself a glass of juice.”

“You poured yourself a glass of juice…?” the judge asked after he was sure Ms. Andrews was done testifying.

“Yes. Sadly, I didn’t remember not to touch things at the scene of a crime… And I disturbed the crime scene by moving this one thing…”

“And that is when the fingerprints on the wine glass were made, Your Honor,” Miles stated.

“I see,” the judge commented. “Well, Mr. Wright, you may cross-examine the witness.”

“Phoenix,” Mia called to Wright before he could start. “She is one cool and collected customer, and she has the brains to match.”

“Yes…” Wright agreed. “I know.”

“In order to catch a person like her, you have to avoid head-on confrontations. You should disrupt her pace.”

“Disrupt her pace…?”

“She’s the type of woman who is easily thrown off by things inconsistent with her thinking so you have to attack when she least expects it. The instant you let up on your offense is the instant this trial is over. Understand?”

It’s funny how much she behaves like Mia Fey. Maybe that’s why Wright hired her…

Wright looked over the testimony. “You were ‘in shock’…?” he asked the witness.

“What?” Ms. Andrews half-laughed. “Was I not supposed to be?”

“Anyone randomly stumbling upon a dead body would be in shock,” Miles stated. “And you can’t seriously expect that a young beauty like her would not be shocked.”

That came out wrong… Why do I feel as if Lana’s the one on the stand? I suppose this witness does bear some similarities to her… The attitude, the secret, the intelligence…

“Hmm…” the judge mumbled. “I see…”

“What I saw was, naturally, the exact same scene as in the crime scene photo,” Ms. Andrews said. “I felt as though I was about to faint, so I poured myself a glass of juice.”

“Hold it!” Wright demanded. “Juice…?”

“Yes, there was a bottle of tomato juice on the table, so I helped myself.”

“But you didn’t drink any of it, did you?”

“Huh?”

“There were no lip marks on this wine glass to suggest anyone drank from it.”

“I… I wasn’t feeling terribly great, so I set the glass down. Without drinking it…”

Something smells, and I’m pretty sure it’s not the Butz.

“Ms. Andrews,” Wright continued, “I would like to confirm with you one more time. When you discovered the dead body of Juan Corrida, you were in great shock. And that’s when you poured yourself the glass of juice, correct?”

“And what of it…?” Ms. Andrews asked. “My mind really was a complete blank at the time.”

“Your mind was a complete blank? I didn’t think that was possible for you.”

“Aren’t you rude today? I was so dazed that I made one careless mistake… That one thing…”

“What ‘one thing’?”

“Um, never mind. It’s no big deal.”

Right, and that photo Lana took of Neil Marshall was no big deal, either. If Wright doesn’t press her on this, I will.

Wright, right on cue, hit his desk.

“Ms. Andrews!” he barked. “I’m convinced that as you said, you made a ‘mistake’ at the scene of the crime.”

Ms. Andrews didn’t respond.

“What I really want to know is what this ‘mistake’ was,” Wright continued, pointing at the witness.

“Hmm, actually…” Miles trailed off. “So would I…”

“I…” Ms. Andrews stuttered. “I’m sorry… It’s just… It’s kind of… embarrassing… When I… When I set the glass down on the dresser… I accidentally… knocked the flower vase over…”

The gallery started murmuring. The judge responded with a whack of his gavel.

“F-Flower vase…?” the judge confirmed. “Are you talking about the one on the floor in the crime scene photo…?” He took out a copy of the photo. “This mess of glass shards!?”

“It was originally on top of the dresser…” Ms. Andrews admitted, “but when I bumped into it with my elbow, it fell… onto the guitar case.”

Miles struck his desk. “Wh-Why did you withhold such an important piece of information!?” he demanded.

“I’m sorry… I thought that since the crime scene was already in disarray, that people would simply assume the vase was just another part of the mess.”

The judge banged his gavel.

“It seems like yet another fact has come to light here,” he stated. “Please add this and anything else you have to reveal to your testimony.”

“I’m sorry…” Ms. Andrews stammered. “But… I have nothing more to add… I didn’t touch anything else.”

For someone with nothing more to add, you sure sound nervous. …No matter; I’m sure Wright will catch on.

“I was the one who knocked the flower vase over,” Ms. Andrews testified, “where it fell onto the guitar case.”

“Objection!” Wright yelled. “You testified that you knocked the flower vase over. Is this correct?”

“Yes.”

“And are you sure it fell onto the guitar case?”

“I-Is there some problem with what I said…?”

“It’s not ‘some’ problem, it’s a ‘major’ problem. It’s true that the top of the guitar case was wet with water. However, that’s exactly what’s so strange! Ms. Andrews! You testified that the vase fell onto the guitar case! However!” Wright paused to hit his desk. “If that was true, the case should have gotten wet on the inside, not the outside!”

The gallery began chattering, cut off when the judge banged his gavel.

“Th-That’s very true!” the judge agreed.

“Furthermore,” Wright added, “there is one other strange thing about this guitar case.”

“And wh-what is that?”

“Let’s take another look at the crime scene photo. The remains of the vase are scattered on the floor.”

“And what is wrong with that?”

“If the guitar case was open when the vase fell…” Wright pounded on his desk, then pointed at Ms. Andrews. “The glass shards should be INSIDE, not outside the case!”

“Ah!” Ms. Andrews gasped.

“Objection!” Miles barked. “What is your point, Wright!? That the case was closed at the time the vase was knocked over? Is that all!?”

“Objection!” Wright responded. “No. Think back to what Ms. Andrews testified to! She said that other than the vase, she didn’t touch anything else!”

“Nngh…” In other words, you think she opened the guitar case.

“Yes, that’s right…” the judge said. “She did implicitly say she didn’t touch the guitar case!”

“Objection!” Miles yelled. “But… But this whole matter with the guitar case is a dead end! The bright red guitar was found at the studio! It has no bearing on this case at all!”

“…That may very well be,” Wright admitted, “however…” He trailed off.

“Hmm…” the judge mumbled. “It seems that there is no deeper meaning to the guitar case. Well, Mr. Wright? Do you think we need to hear more details about the guitar case?”

“The empty guitar case…” Wright struck his desk. “I believe this is a crucial piece of the puzzle!”

“Heh!” Miles chuckled. “I can’t believe ANYONE would reach for straws like this! But it is you…”

The judge banged his gavel. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll follow along… For now. Ms. Andrews, please testify to the court about the guitar case.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Ms. Andrews replied. “I don’t remember too clearly because I was a bit dazed. I suppose I must have opened the guitar case… after I knocked the vase over. It’s not a big deal though, right? The case was empty after all. As for why I opened the case… Even I don’t know.”

“Hmm… It looks like this really wasn’t a very important point.”

“This wastefulness is such a familiar feeling by now that it’s almost… comforting,” Miles commented.

“Um, anyway, I’ll just go ahead and start the cross-examination…” Wright said.

“Hmph. Using ‘anyway’ to change the topic; a convenient escape for a weak man.”

Wright looked over the testimony, carefully examining it.

“There is no way you were the one who opened the guitar case,” Wright finally said.

“Why would you say that!?” Ms. Andrews demanded.

“It’s elementary, my dear.” Wright paused and pounded on his desk. “Because the only fingerprints on this guitar case are those of the victim!”

“Ah!”

The gallery started up.

“What is it, Ms. Andrews?” the judge asked. Miles noticed that the witness looked as though she had suddenly recalled something.

“…You shouldn’t assume that I must have left prints just because I touched the case,” she said to Wright.

“What do you mean?” Wright asked.

“What if I were to tell you that I was wearing gloves at the time?”

“Gloves…” the judge echoed. “But why would you be wearing gloves at the time?”

“It was the night of the award ceremony. So of course I dressed up for the occasion. Yes, now I remember… I’m almost sure I was wearing a pair of thin gloves.”

“Hmm… I see… Well, Mr. Wright. It seems the witness was wearing gloves at the scene of the crime.”

“You were wearing gloves…?” Wright asked. “Isn’t that a little strange?”

“Why is that strange!?” Ms. Andrews almost snapped. “Do you have something that would prove I was not wearing gloves at the time…?”

“I have your proof right here.” He indicated the wine glass. “This wine glass.”

“The wine glass?”

“You left your fingerprints very clearly on this wine glass.”

“Ah…”

Indeed, she wouldn’t even be here had it not been for that glass.

“Even if you took your gloves off when you poured yourself this glass of juice,” Wright continued, “wouldn’t you think it was just a little strange…” He paused to hit his desk. “That you put your gloves back on, just to open the guitar case!?”

“Ugn!” Ms. Andrews cried. The gallery stared yammering, though the judge quieted them down with three whacks of his gavel.

“Order! Order! Order!!” he bellowed.

“Looks like you hit the nail on the head this time,” Mia said to Wright.

“What do you mean?” Wright asked, looking confused.

“I believe that guitar case plays a very important role here.”

“But it’s just an empty case…”

“I wonder if it really was empty though…”

“B-But the guitar… The bright red guitar was at the studio!”

“Phoenix, drop all of your presumption. What was in the guitar case was not the bright red guitar.”

I hope he’s not going to try to say a bright yellow guitar was in the case…

The judge banged his gavel, cutting them off.

“Hmm, I admit it would be unnatural for someone to do that,” he said. “So the witness was not wearing gloves, despite the fact that on the case…”

“Objection!” Miles interrupted. “Your Honor, this is obviously the defense’s usual misdirection tactic at work. Steer the court towards an unrelated topic, and lull us all into his misguided…”

“Objection!” Wright snapped, cutting Miles off and striking his desk. “No, Your Honor! Please recall that Ms. Andrews had testified that the vase ‘fell onto the guitar case’! Which means that the case was closed when the crime took place! However, it is wide open in this photo of the crime scene!” He indicated the photo and struck his desk again. “I am sure this guitar case has some relation to the murder!”

“Objection! If you are so sure, Wright, then I’m sure you can somehow substantiate your outrageous claim, correct!?” Miles pounded on his desk. “Please, enlighten us as to why that guitar case has anything at all to do with this murder!”

“Uh…”

As usual, you make the claim first and find the proof later.

“Can you do that, Mr. Wright!?” the judge asked.

“Um, well… Let’s suppose for a second… That the bright red guitar was not the only thing that could have been in the case…”

“The bright red guitar not being the only thing…? Y-You don’t mean to suggest that a bright BLACK guitar was inside the—”

“Objection!” Miles cut in, striking his desk. “So, you intend to push your theory that the case was not empty!? Is that it, Wright!?”

“I wouldn’t say something I didn’t intend to prove!” Wright replied.

“Deflate that head of yours! You haven’t proven a thing yet! Now then, let’s have it. What was inside this case at the time of the murder!?”

“Take that!” Wright took out his copy of Hart’s photo.

“Th-This is…” the judge stammered. “This is a photograph…!”

“Yes, but what is important is what is in that picture, Your Honor.”

“I-In the picture…?”

“It doesn’t take a genius to see what I mean! What I am proposing is…” He paused to hit his desk. “Inside the guitar case was the Nickel Samurai! The hero’s very own costume!”

“Wh-What!?” Miles howled. The gallery’s murmurs implied they were just as surprised. The judge banged his gavel to restore order.

“M-Mr. Wright!” he called. “Explain yourself!”

“Wright!” Miles barked. “Are you saying that the witness opened the guitar case to take out a costume!? What insane point would there be to doing something like that!?”

“That insane point would be to wear the costume, of course,” Wright answered. “Ms. Andrews put it on to hide her identity so she could make her escape. After all, you couldn’t let anyone see you leave, could you, Ms. Andrews?”

“I-I refuse to accept your theory!” Miles pounded on his desk. “Do you have anything to support such a preposterous idea!?”

“Just outside the door was an investigative photographer who was starving for a big scoop. And in the end, she managed to get this shot, correct?”

“You… You mean this photo!?” the judge asked, indicating Hart’s photograph.
The gallery murmured, silenced by the judge’s gavel.

“Order!” he barked. “Ordeeeer! It looks like we’ve wandered into quite another mess again, haven’t we…?”

Mia muttered something to Wright, but Miles didn’t hear her, nor did he hear Wright’s response.

“Hmm…” the judge mumbled. “So the real murderer was hiding inside a costume…”

“Objection!” Miles shouted. “W-Wait one second, Your Honor! The Nickel Samurai’s costume would have been Mr. Matt Engarde’s!” He struck his desk. “Why would something of the defendant’s be in the victim’s room!? And inside the guitar case, of all places!?”

“Hmm, true… That is a little baffling… Mr. Wright, the court would like to hear your thoughts. What was this Nickel Samurai costume doing inside the guitar case…?”

“Mr. Engarde did not take his costume off during the break period…” Wright said. “In that case, the costume we are talking about was a spare one.”

“What…?” Miles managed to say.

Just give it up, Wright. Your theory makes no sense!

“Then…” the judge began, “are you saying that on the night of the murder… there were TWO Nickel Samurai costumes at the Gatewater Hotel!?”

“Yes, that is what I am saying,” Wright replied with a nod.

“And how do you explain the costume that was inside the guitar case…?”

Miles hit his desk. “It would mean that the victim himself had planned to bring this spare to the ceremony!”

The gallery started expressing their confusion.

“But…” the judge stammered. “But why!? The victim, Mr. Corrida, was the Jammin’ Ninja. Why would he secretly bring the Nickel Samurai’s spare costume with him…? What could be the reason behind such a peculiar act?”

Peculiar? Try unreal! I can’t see any reason for this!

“…Ah, so that’s what he intended…” Wright said.

“Objection!” Miles yelled. “Wh-What are you mumbling to yourself about now!? Have you just been rambling all this time without any sense of inner monologue!?”

“Huh!? N-No, I just…”

“Mr. Wright, please explain yourself!” the judge ordered. “Why do you think the victim had the Nickel Samurai’s spare costume!?”

“Phoenix…” Mia said. “Are you sure you can explain this one? Think carefully before you answer… And then answer with gusto! I believe in you!”

“Alright,” Wright said. “This is what I think. The reason the victim brought the Nickel Samurai’s spare costume to the hotel was…” He took out some sort of slip of paper. “Take that!”

“What is this…?” the judge asked.

“On the night of the murder, after the stage show, the Nickel Samurai was going to hold a special press conference.”

“A press conference…?”

“Yes, the Nickel Samurai was supposed to confess something at this conference.”

“I heard about this as well,” Miles commented. “For once, you’re not making something up, Wright.”

“But what struck me as strange was that Mr. Engarde himself said he had no idea he was supposed to be holding a press conference that night.”

“But how can that be!?” the judge asked.

“The way I see it, that can mean only one thing: The conference was set up…” He paused to hit his desk. “by none other than the victim, Mr. Juan Corrrida himself!”

“Th-The victim?”

“Yes. The spare Nickel Samurai costume was prepared for that very conference! Mr. Corrida was going to hold the press conference as the ‘Nickel Samurai’!”

The gallery started up, silenced by the judge’s gavel.

“He was going to dress up as the Nickel Samurai and hold a conference!?” the judge asked, dumbstruck. “But why would the victim do such a thing!?”

“That’s something I don’t quite know yet,” Wright admitted, “however… What I am concerned with right now is what he intended to reveal at that conference.”

“The Nickel Samurai was going to ‘confess’ something,” Miles said. “And by ‘confess’, I’d wager he was going to reveal something about ‘himself’.”

“Which means that Juan Corrida, posing as the Nickel Samurai,” Wright hit his desk. “was going to speak about Matt Engarde!”

“Yes, I guess that is what it would mean…” the judge agreed.

“But, if that’s the case…” Miles started, “that’s not a ‘confession’! That’s ‘public disclosure’!”

The gallery was clearly quite confused at this point. However, a single “Hmph” from Ms. Andrews quieted them down more effectively than the judge’s gavel.

“M-Ms. Andrews…?” the judge called.

“I can see why you are pros at what you do,” she said.

“Pardon me?”

“Yes, just as you say, the press conference was set up by Juan.”

What!?

The gallery started up again.

“Ms. Andrews!” the judge barked. “Please offer us an explanation for this!”

“I was the one he asked to help set it up,” she explained. “And the person who prepared the second costume for him… That was also me.”

“You…!?”

“Juan had bet everything on the Jammin’ Ninja this year. And if he lost the Grand Prix… He was going to make sure Matt was going down with him. That’s what he thought anyway.”

“He was going to ruin him, huh…?”

“It looked like somehow, Juan had in his hands a secret so powerful… that it would destroy Matt’s acting career had it been revealed!”

“What!?” Wright yelped, followed by general confusion in the gallery and three whacks of the judge’s gavel.

“And do you know what this ‘secret’ of Mr. Engarde’s is, Ms. Andrews…?”

“That’s something only Juan knew,” she said after a pause. “I… I don’t know what it is.”

Though you sound as if you have a hunch.

“Ah…” the judge said. “I see.”

“I… I’ve probably been coming off quite suspicious to everyone, but that’s to be expected. I’ve been trying to protect Matt, after all…”

“P-Protect Mr. Engarde!?” Wright stammered.

The judge banged his gavel.

“And yet again another strange bit of truth comes to light it seems…” he commented. “Ms. Andrews, if you could, please tell us the truth about your behavior!”

“Yes, Your Honor,” she said. “I understand. From the moment I saw the crime scene, I had a feeling that Matt was the murderer. Matt had to kill Juan no matter what. And he didn’t have an alibi for what he was doing at the time of the murder. My thoughts were confirmed by the evidence, of course; the button and the knife… But I’m Matt’s manager… So I felt that I had to protect him…”

“Protect him?” Considering your scheme with Mr. Corrida, you protected him about as well as Wu Sangui protected Ming China.

“Hmm…” the judge mumbled. “This does account for everything…”

“Well…” Ms. Andrews said, “I am the logical type.”

“We’re finally seeing her true self,” Mia stated. “She is more nervous than a scared rabbit.”

“If there are no objections,” the judge announced, “I feel that I can pass a verdict based on this testimony. Now then, Mr. Wright, if you please.”
Wright looked over the testimony. After a moment, he hit his desk.

“You can hardly call the knife ‘decisive evidence’!” he insisted. “The fingerprints on the knife could very well be a clever camouflage!”

“Then… What about the button?” Ms. Andrews asked.

“The button…?”

“It’s clear from the crime scene that the victim and the murderer fought. And during the fight, the killer ripped the button from the Jammin’ Ninja’s costume.”

“You’re talking about this button, correct?” the judge asked, indicating the bloody button.

“That button was found in the pleats of Matt’s hakama, isn’t that correct? I would think that makes it very decisive evidence.”

“Urk,” Wright squeaked.

“Looks like you were out-foxed again, Mr. Wright,” the judge said.

“A-Anyway! The knife doesn’t prove a thing! Please fix your testimony!”

“I can’t stand the sight of a man who can’t gracefully accept his defeat,” Ms. Andrews taunted.

Get used to it, Ms. Andrews; Wright clings to his case like a barnacle to the hull of a ship.

The judge banged his gavel.

“Ms. Andrews,” he began, “for Mr. Wright’s sake, please add this information to your testimony.”

“That button was torn off of Juan during his fight with Matt,” Ms. Andrews testified.

“Objection!” Wright shouted. He took out the autopsy report and started flicking it with his hand. “This is the victim’s autopsy report. It clearly states that the cause of death was ‘strangulation by a scarf’.”

“S… Strangulation…”

“The knife stab to the victim was done after the victim had already died.”

“A-And what does that mean?” the judge asked.

“Let’s examine the evidence,” Wright said. “This button has the victim’s blood on it. Which would mean that it was ripped off of the costume… when?”

“After the knife was stabbed into the victim…” Miles answered.

“Exactly! Which means…” He paused and struck his desk. “It is impossible that this button was torn off during the victim’s final struggle, because the victim was strangled to death in that fight!”

“Ah…” Ms. Andrews grunted.

“That’s right, Ms. Andrews. There is no way this button was ripped off during the struggle.” He hit his desk, then pointed at the witness. “This button was consciously pulled off of the victim’s already dead body!”

The gallery started up, silenced by the judge’s gavel.

“Order! Order!” the judge roared. “Wh-What is the meaning—”

“Objection!” Miles interrupted. “What is the meaning of this, Wright!? So what if the button was torn off the body after the victim had already died? What does that change!?”

“Let me ask you one simple question, Mr. Edgeworth,” Wright replied. “Why was the button torn off? What purpose did that serve?”

“What ‘purpose’…?”

“We now know this button was not torn off during the fight. So the murderer took the time and effort to purposely rip this from the victim’s body. That would mean that the murderer had something in mind, wouldn’t it?”

Ah… That does make sense… No killer would consciously put incriminating evidence on his person.

“Mr. Wright!” the judge called. “Does this mean… Does this mean you know what the murderer wanted to do with this button!? What was it!?”

Wright banged on his desk. “There is only one logical reason for doing something like that,” he said. “It was to pin the crime on Mr. Engarde!”

Here it comes…

“There is no way anyone would put a bloodied button in their own pants!” Wright continued, pausing to hit his desk. “That’s right! Mr. Engarde was set up! By the real killer, of course!”

The gallery began murmuring. The judge banged his gavel.

“And…” the judge said. “The real murder is…?”

“Murderer,” not “murder,” Your Honor.

“Well, Mr. Wright!?” the judge demanded. “Who in the world is the real killer then!?”

I think it’s fairly obvious who he intends to accuse.

“The real killer,” Wright began, “the person who planned to frame Mr. Engarde is…” He pounded on his desk for emphasis. “Ms. Adrian Andrews! I choose you!”

Why did I suddenly picture an old Pokémon episode?

“You are Mr. Corrida’s killer!” Wright accused.

“Wh-What!?” Ms. Andrews yelped.

The gallery was quickly in an uproar, though the judge managed to quiet them down with a few whacks of his gavel.

“Order! Order! Order!!” he yelled. “Mr. Wright! This is a very grave matter! Do you have any evidence that supports your charge…?”

“‘Any evidence’…?” Wright echoed. He struck his desk. “ALL of the evidence points to Ms. Andrews!”

“Wh…” Ms. Andrews stuttered. “How preposterous! You can’t stick any of that on me!”

“I can’t, can I? Would you care to test me?”

“Then… Then what about this knife!?”

“The knife was used to stab the victim after he had already been strangled to death. It was used to throw suspicion onto Mr. Engarde, naturally. A knife covered in the defendant’s fingerprints could only be taken from his room. And the only one who had dinner with him, and knew which knife to take, was you.”

“Tsk! …Th-Then! What… What about the button that was found in Matt’s hakama!?”

“This button was removed from the victim’s body after he had already died. The only people who could’ve done so were the person who found his body or the killer. However, if Mr. Engarde was the real killer,” Wright paused and hit his desk. “there is no way he would have put such incriminating evidence in his own hakama!”

“Ughn…”

“The only person who could have put this button into Mr. Engarde’s hakama, is the person who went to wake him from his nap… which is you, yet again, Ms. Andrews.”

“I… I see…” the judge managed to say. “What about the empty guitar case…?”

Wright struck his desk. “That is also another piece of evidence that incriminates Ms. Andrews. That costume was used to hide the real killer’s identity as they fled the crime scene. Now, who could have known that there was such a costume inside the guitar case…? It could only have been the person who prepared the costume for the victim.” He hit his desk again. “And that person is… you, Ms. Adrian Andrews!”

“N… No…” Ms. Andrews whimpered. “I…”

“Objection!” Miles shouted, striking his desk. “But Ms. Andrews’ fingerprints were nowhere to be found on the guitar case! And it was you who proved that she was not wearing gloves at the time!”

“…Th-That’s right!” the judge realized. Wright shook his head.

“That’s because she did not intend on leaving any prints,” Wright explained. “If anyone had found out that she had touched the case, they would have asked her why. So to avoid leaving any prints, she used a towel or something else to open it.” He pounded on his desk. “But! The glass of tomato juice is a different story! Ms. Andrews purposefully left her fingerprints on the glass to show that yes, indeed, she was the classic ‘dazed discoverer’ of a dead body!”

“Aaaaaah!” Ms. Andrews screamed.

“And to top it all off,” Wright continued, indicating Hart’s photo, “there is this photo! A photo of the killer as they exited the scene of the crime. No reasonable person on Earth can believe this Nickel Samurai is Mr. Engarde! He would be much too short for his own costume if it was him.”

Classic Wright… Finding the smallest thing to hold on to and building a case off of it. Still, that ability came in handy in Lana’s trial… and mine…

“Speaking of how tall people are…” Wright added, “Ms. Andrews, you’re also kind of short in stature, are you not?”

“P-Please…” she stuttered. “Stop…”

Wright slammed on his desk. “Well, how about it, Ms. Andrews!?” he demanded.

“Um…”

...Almost every time Wright cross-examines someone, they become the bad guy.

“Ms. Andrews…?” the judge called.

“…I…” she barely managed to say. “I… I refuse… to testify.”

“What was that…?” Wright asked.

“Th-There’s a law… It says I can’t be forced to testify about something… if it can incriminate me!”

The gallery started up.

The Fifth Amendment… It’s been years since I’ve seen someone use it…

“Well, yes…” the judge acknowledged. “You are absolutely correct, Ms. Andrews. The law does provide us with a way to avoid self-incrimination… by allowing a witness to not testify if the testimony can cause damage to themselves.”

“WHAT!?” Wright yelped.

And so ends Wright’s attack. He always gets held here.

“You did a good job proving everything up to this point, Phoenix,” Mia said. “But there is still one thing you haven’t done.”

“Something I haven’t done…?”

“Heh heh heh,” Miles chuckled, doing his “evil smile.” “What’s wrong, Wright? Are you finished already? Run out of evidence?”

“What is so humorous, Mr. Edgeworth!?” the judge asked.

“I’m sure you realize this as well, Your Honor… But, everything the good lawyer here has proven up to this point is meaningless.”

“Wh-What!?” Wright stammered.

“Everything you have proven is circumstantial.”

“Circumstantial…?”

“Yes, circumstantial. You have yet to provide a single piece of definitive proof.” Miles paused and struck his desk. “Proof that Ms. Andrews, did in fact, harbor a wish to murder Mr. Corrida!”

The gallery started up, silenced by the judge’s gavel.

“M-Ms. Andrews!” the judge called. “You… Did you want to kill Mr. Corrida…?”

“I believe this may lead to me incriminating myself,” she answered, “so I will abstain from answering.”

“But Ms. Andrews… If you do that, it would be the same as admitting your guilt, don’t you think…?”

“Maybe so, or maybe not. There is nothing to prove it either way. Besides, you don’t even know what crime I would be ‘guilty’ of due to my silence.”

“M-Mia!” Wright begged. “What should we do…?”

“Somehow,” she replied, “we’ve landed in the worst possible situation.”

The judge banged his gavel.

“I think we have reached a certain conclusion at this point in time,” he said. “Ms. Adrian Andrews has refused to testify. And the defense’s theory that she is the actual murderer… has not been fully substantiated with solid definitive proof.”

“But!” Wright cried. “That’s not true!”

“In this situation, there is only one thing this court can do. And that is to declare a recess.”

“R-Recess…!?”

“I request that both the prosecution and the defense look further into this matter. And at tomorrow’s trial…”

“Hold it!” Wright screamed, hitting his desk. “Please wait, Your Honor! Th… That’s not necessary! The trial… Please continue the trial!”

“What are you sweating for…?” Miles asked. “Your client is getting one more day to live, isn’t he?”

“That… That’s not it! This isn’t about that.” He struck his desk, then pointed at Miles. “Edgeworth! I know you know who the real killer is! Please… Let the trial continue! If I don’t get the verdict, then Maya…”

Maya? Come to think of it, why isn’t she here? And what connection could she—

The judge banged his gavel, disrupting Miles’s thoughts. “But it’s impossible to continue as long as the witness refuses to testify,” he said. Now then, this court is…”

“Objection!” Miles shouted. “It is not impossible for this trial to continue.”
This feels way too much like Lana’s trial…

“Mr. Edgeworth!” the judge gasped. “Wh-What are you…”

“It’s true Ms. Andrews holds the right against self-incrimination; however, if the topic of conversation were something unrelated to whatever she may be guilty of, the she has no right to withhold testimony!”

“Y-Yes, that is very true, but…”

“Actually, there is one little thing that I’m curious about. Ms. Andrews.”

She didn’t respond.

“When you found the victim’s dead body,” Miles continued, “you poured yourself a glass of juice.”

“Y-Yes…” she admitted. “And…?”

“I can’t help but think how unnatural that is. Usually when one finds a body, they are shaken up, not stirring a glass of juice.”

“So my actions were ‘unusual’? But I’ve already…”

“Before you speak, I want to state that if you have a reason behind your actions, I would like you to testify to that effect.”

“Testify…!?”

Miles struck his desk. “Your Honor!” he called. “I would like to request that the witness testify again as to what happened when she first discovered the victim’s body! Whatever we find out in this testimony should in no way implicate the witness.”

The gallery made it quite clear that they were confused.

“Hmm…” the judge mumbled.

“I don’t know what it is about Edgeworth today,” Mia commented, “but I can’t get a good read off of him. Is he friend or foe? I just don’t know…”

The judge banged his gavel. “The court acknowledges the prosecution’s request,” he said. “Ms. Andrews, if you please.”

All eyes were on the witness as she collected herself.

“That glass of juice…” she stated, “I didn’t really pour it for myself. I was surprised when I walked into the room and saw it in that messy state. And Juan… He was sitting slumped over and tired-looking in the corner. When I saw him sitting like that, the thought that he was dead didn’t cross my mind. To be honest, I thought he had just fainted or something. So I went to pour him some juice. When I realized that he was dead… That’s when I knocked the flower vase over.”

“Hmm…” the judge murmured. “So you poured that glass of juice for the victim. Why didn’t you say so in your earlier testimony?”

“…I didn’t think I needed to include something so trivial.”

Mia whispered something to Wright, to which he said something back.

“Now then, Mr. Wright,” the judge said. “You may begin your cross-examination.”

Wright read the testimony, then opened up his files, taking out a photo.

“So you honestly didn’t think he was dead when you found him?” he asked Ms. Andrews.

“No, not at all…” she answered.

“Even though this is what you saw when you discovered the body?” Wright appeared to be holding the crime scene photo.

“…Ah!”

“Wh-What is the meaning of this!?” the judge demanded.

“Isn’t it obvious, Your Honor?” Wright asked. “There is a knife sticking straight out of Mr. Corrida’s chest! Anyone who saw this scene would have immediately though that here was a dead man!”

“Ah…” Ms. Andrews stammered. “Um… That’s… Well, you see…”

“I doubt a single person in the world would mistake this for someone who fainted, and then so nonchalantly go pour something to drink!”

“Y-Your point is…?” the judge asked.

“Ms. Andrews! Your testimony just now… It was all one giant lie!”

“Ungh!” she grunted.

“And your lie has proven one thing very clearly. That you are the real killer!”

“…NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!”

Damn it… I should have known Wright would find something… But still… He hasn’t proven his case just yet…

“It looks like the defense has somehow brought the ugly truth to light,” the judge commented after a pause. “The defendant, Mr. Matt Engarde, is not guilty after all…”

“That…” Ms. Andrews struggled to say. “But that’s impossible! You’re wrong…”

“M-Ms. Andrews! Try to have some composure!”

“It… It wasn’t me… It wasn’t me, I tell you! It was Matt! I swear it! He’s the one who killed Juan!”

“But you were the one who refused to testify!” Wright protested. “And your reason for not doing so was that you ‘might’ end up incriminating yourself!”

“Th-That’s because…”

“Ms. Andrews,” the judge said, “I will give you one last chance. What exactly are you hiding that may ‘incriminate’ you?”

“…I… I… I refuse… to testify.”

The gallery started up, silenced by a whack of the judge’s gavel.

I warned you, Ms. Andrews. If you are withholding something important from the court, Wright and I will stop at nothing to find the truth you are keeping from us. And I’ll make good on that warning before court is adjourned.

“Then there is no need for this court to continue any further,” the judge announced. “Mr. Matt Engarde’s innocence has been clearly demonstrated.”

“What’s wrong, Phoenix?” Mia asked.

“Usually…” Wright trailed off. “Well, usually, the real killer confesses his or her guilt. And now that I think about it, this is the first time someone hasn’t.”

The judge banged his gavel. “Now then,” he stated, “I would like to hand down my verdict for Mr. Matt Engarde.” He paused for a moment.

“Objection!” Miles shouted. All eyes were instantly on him. “Your Honor. The prosecution feels that it would be premature to pass down a verdict at this time.”

“Wh-What…?”

“The reason is quite simple.” Miles paused and did his “evil smile.” He knew Wright would writhe in agony before the trial ended. “This witness has yet to speak the absolute real truth.”

The gallery started up, though the judge quickly banged his gavel to quiet them down.

“The ‘absolute real truth’…?” he echoed. “What are you…?”

“Witness…” Miles called to Ms. Andrews. “Don’t you understand yet?”

“…Huh?” she squeaked.

“I don’t know who planted this silly idea in your head, but as long as you ‘protect’ yourself through your silence, Matt Engarde will go free. And in his place…” He paused and struck his desk. “YOU will become the guilty party!”

“…Th-That’s… That’s a lie! I… I don’t believe you!”

“What…?” I sense Franziska’s work here…

“I… I was told… If I spoke… If I spoke, then it would be all over… And Matt would never be declared guilty… I… I can’t speak about it… I’m too scared…”

This reminds me so much of Lana’s trial. If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was Lana on the stand again, desperately trying to hide what she thought incriminated Ema…

“It’s Franziska von Karma…” Mia said.

“Huh…?” Wright uttered.

“Ms. Andrews lives by gripping tightly onto the words of another. Because she doesn’t have the strength to believe in herself.”

“Th… Then, right now… Ms. Andrews is…”

“Yesterday, she was tossed a life-saver by Ms. Von Karma. ‘Don’t say a word, no matter what happens. If you do, Matt Engarde will be acquitted.’ Ms. Andrews undyingly believes in those words right now, and is clinging onto them…”

That sounds exactly like something Franziska would do. Someday… she’ll see the real purpose of the courts. Still, I’d better have a word with her once this is all over…

“It wasn’t me!” Ms. Andrews insisted. “I’m begging you, please believe me! I didn’t kill Juan! Help… Please… Someone… Help me…!”

I’ll help you, but you probably won’t think of it as “help”…

The judge banged his gavel. “Mr. Wright,” he called.

“Y-Yes, Your Honor!” Wright answered.

“The court can’t continue on like this, therefore I’d like to hear what you intend to do.”

Or maybe Wright will save you…

“Wright!” Miles warned. “I suggest you think very carefully about this! Think about what this witness did, and what she did NOT do!” He struck his desk. “And think about who is the real mastermind behind this crime!”

Wright appeared to mull it over, but didn’t look like he saw the truth yet. Miles struck his desk again.

“Come now!” he demanded. “What will you do!? What kind of man are you, Mr. Phoenix Wright!?”

That appeared to set him on the right track for the time being. Wright hit his desk.

“Ms. Andrews!” he called. “I would like to know what you are really hiding!”

“M-Mr. Wright!” the judge stammered. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing!?”

“Sure, Mr. Engarde would get an acquittal,” Wright continued to Ms. Andrews, “but in his place, you would be found guilty! Is this… Is this how you really want this trial to end!?”

“B-Be quiet…” Ms. Andrews whimpered. “How dare you!? You… You’re trying to trick me!”

The judge banged his gavel. “That’s enough!” he bellowed. “I commend you for trying, Mr. Edgeworth. However, it’s clear that the defense’s theory is the truth.”

“…Y… You’re wrong…” Ms. Andrews cried.

I guess it’s up to me, then. Miles did his “evil smile”.

“Such a shame…” he said with a sigh. “I had hoped things wouldn’t come to this, however…”

“Wh-What is it, Mr. Edgeworth?” the judge asked.

“Ms. Andrews,” Miles said to the witness. “Since you absolutely refuse to testify… It falls on my shoulders to disclose this to the court.”

“…S… Stop…” she begged.

Not until we hear the truth.

“M-Mr. Edgeworth!?” the judge called.

Miles struck his desk. “This witness…” he announced. “How should I put this… She has an illness.”

“What!?” Ms. Andrews yelped.

“And because of this illness, she has tried to commit suicide in the past.”

“S-Stop… Please stop…!”

“No matter how much you want to hide it, it’s no use. I have the evidence right here.” He held up a report on Ms. Andrews’s attempted suicide two years ago.

“Ah! Th-That’s…!”

“What will you do now, witness?” Miles asked. “You know what I am about to do, don’t you?” He pounded on his desk. “I will now reveal to the court, the true nature of the pitiful woman known as Adrian Andrews!”

“Please! Please STOP!! I beg you!! If people find out… If people find out… I… I’ll…”

Fight it. Whether or not you’ll be able to live with yourself after doing this to her isn’t important right now; only the truth is.

Miles shrugged and shook his head. “If you’re going to say you would ‘choose death’,” he said, “that is of no concern to me. However, before you die…” He struck his desk again. “I will pull the truth from your breathing lips! …No matter what I have to do.”

I’ve fought against even Lana’s wishes to reveal the truth. I will not turn back!

“So, will you tell the court yourself, or shall I?” Miles continued. “Either is fine with me.”

Ms. Andrews didn’t respond for a moment.

“…I…” she managed to say. “I’ll talk. But please… Help me… N-Nothing matters anymore…”

You have my word that I’ll find help for you.

“When I first saw him…” Ms. Andrews testified, “I really thought he had fainted. Honest. When I realized he was dead… That was when I formulated my plan. Once I made sure there was no one in the hallway, I made a dash back to Matt’s room. And then… I stabbed Juan’s dead body with the knife, and ripped off the button. Just when I finished and was returning to Matt’s room… I had a bit of an inconvenience. And that’s why… That’s why I ended up using the Nickel Samurai costume.”

“S-Stabbed the body!?” the judge asked after realizing Ms. Andrews was done testifying. “With the knife!? But why would you do that!?”

“Isn’t it obvious? To pin the blame on a certain person… A certain cowardly man!”

“Wh… What do you mean by all of this…?”

“It might take this court a little while to understand,” Miles explained, “but…” He paused, shook his head, and smiled. “This is the truth.”

“The real killer is Matt!” Ms. Andrews insisted. “That scumbag of a man! I’ll never forgive him! He’s trying to escape his guilt again! Just like last time!”

“Last time”… As I thought. Mr. Engarde, it would appear, must have some connection to Ms. Inpax’s suicide.

“So, Ms. Andrews stabbed the victim, Juan Corrida, in the chest with the knife,” Miles said. “However, she didn’t do it with murder in mind. She did it with the intent of framing Matt Engarde for the murder…” He struck his desk. “And this! This is her ‘crime’!”

The gallery started murmuring. Miles overheard a few people suggesting that he was just buying time.

It’s only natural for those familiar with my past self to suspect foul play… They, like Wright, will see that that Miles Edgeworth is dead.

“Mr. Wright,” the judge called to a sweating Wright. “Please get over your shock and commence the cross-examination.

Wright looked over the testimony and hit his desk.

“But you could tell from the state the room was in,” he insisted, “that there must have been a fight! Are you telling the truth when you say that you did not know he was dead?”

“He… had a scarf tied around his neck…” Ms. Andrews admitted. “But that scarf is a part of the Jammin’ Ninja’s costume… So… So I didn’t think anything about it was strange… His head was also… tilted down a bit, so I couldn’t see his face that well… That’s why I thought I’d wake him up… and went to pour the juice… When I realized he was dead… That was when I formulated my plan.”

“What is this ‘plan’ you had?”

“…I knew right away the murderer was Matt. I knew because Juan… He was going to expose Matt’s weakest weakpoint to the world. So Matt did this to stop Juan, and silence him for good. That’s when I thought, ‘I should forge some evidence and pin this crime on Matt.’”

“So the forged pieces of evidence were the knife and the button…” Miles confirmed.

“The first thing that came to mind was to plant the knife,” Ms. Andrews stated. “Once I made sure there was no one in the hallway, I made a dash back to Matt’s room.”

“That was so you could get the knife, correct?” Wright asked.

“The knife Matt used at dinner had his fingerprints all over it. I thought if I used that, then the police would certainly turn their eyes toward him. Matt was napping with his costume on at the time. I slipped in, took the knife, and returned to the scene of the crime. And then… I stabbed Juan’s dead body with the knife, and ripped off the button.”

“So you were the one to stab the victim with that knife.”

“It gives me goosebumps to think about it now… What a horrible thing I did… But… At the time, I couldn’t control my own body. It moved on its own. Then, when I stabbed Juan’s dead body… I suddenly realized something. If I used the button somehow, I could make Matt look even more suspect.”

“So you thought to rip one of the buttons off and then plant it in Mr. Engarde’s hakama,” Miles said.

“Yes… That’s what I had planned to do. …But things never go that smoothly, do they? Just when I finished and was returning to Matt’s room… I had a bit of an inconvenience.”

“An ‘inconvenience’…?” Wright asked.

“There was a woman with a camera at the ready, loitering in the hallway. There was also a woman with a ray gun at the ready pacing back and forth… I had already been caught and made into a big scoop for a certain weekly tabloid once, so I couldn’t very well go out looking like myself and get caught again. And that’s why… That’s why I ended up using the Nickel Samurai costume.”

“You were the one who prepared that costume, weren’t you?”

“Yes. I took it from Global Studios… I also put it into Juan’s guitar case the day before the award ceremony.”

“You did this in preparation for the press conference, correct?” Miles asked.

“Yes, Juan wanted to wear that costume and hold a press conference in it. He was going to disclose Matt’s big secret there.”

“And what is this ‘secret’…?” the judge asked.

“…That, I don’t know,” Ms. Andrews said after a pause. “Anyway, I thought that if I were to leave Juan’s room in the Nickel Samurai costume… then people would think that Matt was the ‘real’ murderer. I was very careful not to leave any fingerprints when I opened the guitar case. I absolutely did not want anyone to know about the costume.”
The judge banged his gavel.

“I think we’ve heard enough!” he said. “So, after that, you went back to Mr. Engarde’s room and planted the button?”

“…Into Matt’s hakama?” Ms. Andrews confirmed. “Yes. After that, I folded up the costume I was wearing and put it into a bag. Then I snuck it out of the hotel and got rid of it.”

“M-My word… What does all this mean…?”

“…Mr. Edgeworth, is it?”

Miles didn’t respond.

“The real criminal… is Matt Engarde!!” Ms. Andrews asserted. “Yesterday… That woman prosecutor sat me down for a talk…”

I thought so.

“She said that I should under no circumstances confess to what I had done. That if I just kept quiet, then Matt would be found guilty for sure… I… I had no choice but to believe in her words…”

The court was silent.

Hopefully, Franziska will be ready for visitors by the time court is adjourned, because she’s going to get one, whether she wants one or not.

The judge banged his gavel, breaking the silence.

“What this witness has done is clearly unlawful,” he said. “However… As long as her testimony stands, we can be certain she is not the real killer!”

Wright pounded on his desk. “W-Wait, Your Honor!” he begged. “The defense still…”

“Objection!” Miles interrupted. “Wright. It’s pointless. At this point in time, it is not possible to indict Ms. Andrews on anything.”

“Yes, exactly,” the judge said with a nod. “There isn’t a single piece of evidence that points to her as the murderer.” The judge banged his gavel. “The cross-examination of this witness is over. And so is today’s trial. You couldn’t establish that the witness was the culprit. Please let it go, Mr. Wright!”

Wright banged on his desk again. “B-But!” he stammered. The judge shook his head.

“Mr. Edgeworth,” he instructed, “please place Ms. Andrews under arrest for further questioning.”

“Understood, Your Honor,” Miles answered. “The prosecution will arrange for her detention immediately.”

“That’s all. Court is adjourned for today!” He banged his gavel and promptly left his seat. Wright seemed about to faint as his head sunk into his hands. Miles began to place his files away, then stopped for a moment.

Come to think of it… something’s been bothering me.

“Witness…” Miles called to Ms. Andrews. “Would you mind if I asked you something?”

“What is it…?” she asked.

“Before you leave court today, I wondered if I might look at one thing. The card in your hand. It’s had my interest for quite some time now. What exactly is it…?”

“Oh, this…?” She held out the card she had been fidgeting with. There was a pink conch shell design on it.

No…

“Mr. Wright also asked about this,” she said. “Although I didn’t remember at the time you asked me about it, Mr. Wright, I remembered just now. I found this in the room on that day.”

“‘The room’…?” Wright asked.

“‘That day’…?” Miles added.

“Yes,” Ms. Andrews replied. “I found this card when I discovered Juan’s body.”

WHAT!?

“It was lying there right next to him…” she continued.

It… It must be HIM!

“You found that card… next to the victim’s body?” Wright asked.

“I suppose I must have unconsciously slipped it into my pocket…”

My first case back here since Lana’s case… and HE’s involved!

“…But it’s not as if this card has any relevance to Juan’s murder, right?” She began to walk away.

“Hold it!” Miles screamed, almost collapsing completely onto his desk. “Witness! That card… Give it to me! Hurry!”

Ms. Andrews, shocked, walked over, looking as though she expected Miles to attack her.

“E-Edgeworth…?” Wright called.

“Do you have any idea what you have stupidly, yet inadvertently done!?” Miles roared. He struck his desk as he was handed the card. “This… I can’t believe you hid this from me all this time!"

“I… I didn’t mean to…” Ms. Andrews whimpered.

“Wh-What is this all about…?” Mia asked.

Shelly de Killer… I never imagined I’d see another one of his cards…

Miles placed the card in his coat pocket and hastily walked out of the courtroom. Franziska could wait; the investigation needed to be reorganized.

---

This is was marvelous General Luigi. It was brought up previously that the chapters that focus on the in-game chapters rely too heavily on the in-game text. Miles's inner thoughts matched up well with the tone of the trial at each point. You see him dragging Franziska from the attempted murder scene and into the hospital, I always wanted to read that scene since it wouldn't fit in which Justice For All. I haven't played Farewell My Turnabout in a long time, so I was still engrossed with the storyline. The references regarding the similarities between Adrian and Lana that Miles put together showed how much he thinks and cares about her if he's getting flashes of people that have some similar trait to Lana. The small line with Miles promising he will get help for Adrian's psychological imbalance was rather sweet, although there should be a better word for that but I can't think of anything else.

First of all, thank god you made an update since the last time. second, I hardly can say that the court days are my favorite part of your fic, it's just reading all the same thing I played. The additions with Miles thoughts were great, you could imagine that from the mind of Miles.
Even the jokes about the angel Lucifer and a thing about a king or something of China, I don't quite remember because I read this yesterday. But those are things Miles would be supposed to know.

As alway, you're doing great. Now that there's a good part where Miles and Nick don't see each other so there'll be plenty of original stuff to read.

Best of luck for the next chapter.

---

I loved the new chapter. So realistic and Egdeworth's lines about Oldbag were really funny.

Lana had rather suddenly found herself prosecuting another attorney’s case shortly after Miles left for the United States: a murder case in which opera tenor Jack Postrel was shot during a performance of Mazeppa. It appeared to be a very simple case, as the fatal shot had been fired onstage during the performance, apparently by the defendant, bass-baritone Richard Stark. As such, the entire audience witnessed the murder. Originally, Alexander Wuertz was to prosecute the case, but he suddenly fell ill and was staying home on the doctor’s orders.

Why would he shoot someone in front of all those people? Lana thought as she looked over the notes Wuertz had taken. Unless he planned on destroying his career, too, it would make no sense for him to. Even the stupidest killers I’ve prosecuted or investigated would think twice about shooting someone in front of almost two thousand people.

“Ms. Skye, you’re needed in court,” the bailiff said, entering the Prosecution Lobby.



“All rise for the Honorable Mr. Justice Shirazi,” the clerk announced as the judge, a man looking to be from somewhere in the Middle East, entered. As Lana glanced in the defendant’s direction, she saw that Gavin was the defense attorney. Thinking she saw something odd, she glanced at Gavin again and noticed a bandage wrapped around his right wrist and part of his hand.

I wonder what happened to him…

“You may be seated,” the judge said. “Court is now in session for the trial of Mr. Richard Stark.”

“The prosecution is ready, My Lord,” Lana said.

“The defense is ready, My Lord,” Gavin said.

“Thank you,” the judge responded. “Ms. Skye, could you please give the court your opening statement?”

“Yes, My Lord,” Lana replied. “On the eighteenth of March this year, Jack Postrel was shot at the Jensen Opera House during their performance of Mazeppa and died the following day. The suspect, Mr. Richard Stark, was apprehended immediately by his fellow performers and turned over to the police for arrest the instant they arrived. The subsequent investigation has given us no reason to doubt the defendant’s guilt.”

“I… see. Mr. Gavin, what plea does the defense wish to enter?”

“The defense pleads not guilty due to mistake of fact,” Gavin replied.

The gallery murmured. The judge tapped his gavel lightly.

“Mr. Gavin, please clarify as to how this can be a mistake of fact,” the judge requested.

“The defense holds that Mr. Stark was of the belief that the murder weapon was, by design, incapable of firing actual bullets,” Gavin explained.

“I am still not certain I understand.”

“In all previous performances, as well as earlier in the performance in which the victim was shot, no bullets ever came out of the gun in question. Furthermore, my client was of the belief that the gun in question was just a prop designed only to simulate the sound and appearance of a gunshot.”

“Hm… Ms. Skye, your opinion?”

“Testimony from the director matches Mr. Gavin’s claim,” Lana stated. “The prop was supposedly no more dangerous than a cap gun. This being the case, in order for the murder to happen, the prop would have had to be either modified to fire actual bullets or replaced with a real gun that resembles the prop.”

“Just so there is no misunderstanding, Mr. Gavin,” the judge said, “you are asserting that while the defendant did, in fact, shoot the victim, he was… unaware that the murder weapon was able to fire real bullets?”

“Yes, My Lord,” Gavin answered. “The defense believes the prop gun was replaced with the murder weapon, and that no reasonable person, after using the prop so many times without actually firing a bullet, would suspect that the gun they were holding was in any way capable of firing real bullets.”

“Mm… Mr. Gavin, this is a very dangerous plea to make.”

“While I mean no disrespect, My Lord, I have conferred with my client on the matter, and we have agreed on this plea. I would like to request that the plea be entered; the defense is aware of the risks involved, and if Mr. Stark objects, I ask him to do so.”

“Mr. Stark?” the judge asked, switching his gaze to the defendant.

“From what Mr. Gavin has told me, I believe this is the right plea to enter,” the defendant said.

“Very well. Ms. Skye, please call your first witness.”

“Understood, My Lord,” Lana said. “The prosecution calls Detective Samuel Lowe to the stand.” The detective walked up to the stand, struggling to conceal his excitement. “Detective, please state your name and occupation to the court.”

“Samuel Lowe, ma’am!” the detective eagerly replied, saluting. “Constable, Criminal Investigation Department.”

“Detective, I would like you to testify to the court about the nature and circumstances of the victim’s death, as well as why Mr. Stark was arrested for the crime.”

“Understood ma’am!” Lowe took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “During an opera performance, Jack Postrel, one of the performers, was shot in the abdomen onstage in front of an audience of 1,893 people. He died in the hospital from infected peritonitis the following day. Analysis of the bullet’s ballistic markings identified the murder weapon as a single-shot handgun, found to have the defendant’s fingerprints on it. When we arrived at the scene of the crime, the defendant had been apprehended by two of his fellow performers and was patiently awaiting our arrival.”

“I see,” the judge said after a moment. “Mr. Gavin, you may begin your cross-examination.”

“Thank you, My Lord,” Gavin said. “Detective, could you please clarify something for me?”

“Of course,” Lowe answered.

“You said my client shot the victim in front of almost two thousand people. Does the department have any explanation for why he would do that?”

“The defendant has admitted on multiple occasions to despising Mr. Postrel. Apparently, he was dating the defendant’s daughter, but was two-timing her. Furthermore, the victim had a reputation for being immature and disruptive during rehearsals.”

“The motive is not what I am bothered by, Detective. My problem is with the number of witnesses. Considering the location of the murder and the nature of the murder weapon, this crime was clearly premeditated.”

“I agree completely, sir. But I still don’t see what—”

Gavin struck his desk, interrupting Lowe. “What kind of idiot would plan to murder someone in front of almost two thousand witnesses!? If you’re planning to kill someone, wouldn’t you try to make sure there are no witnesses!?”

Lowe appeared to swallow, though Lana heard nothing.

“The murder was during a performance, onstage!” Gavin continued. “Had my client planned the murder as it happened, there is no way he wouldn’t have known beforehand that the entire audience would witness it! The sheer stupidity of going ahead with such a plan is reason enough for me to question my client’s guilt!”
The gallery started up, though the judge responded quickly with his gavel.

“That is a very good point, Mr. Gavin,” the judge said. “Ms. Skye?”

“Yes, My Lord?” Lana replied.

“Does the prosecution have any explanation for this?”

“The large number of witnesses does support the possibility of a mistake of fact, but it is still only a possibility. There have been cases of people committing a crime with the full knowledge that they will be caught.”

“I see. Mr. Gavin, please continue your cross-examination.”

“Detective,” Gavin continued, “you said the shot was fired onstage from a single-shot handgun.”

“I did, sir,” Lowe responded.

“Having seen the performance from two days before the murder, I recall there being two shots fired by the prop gun, one in the first act, one in the third.”

“Yes, sir, the program said as much.”

“And the murder happened during the third act?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That means the fatal shot was fired during the third act.”

“Yes, sir.”

“In that case, it follows that no bullet came out of the gun when it was fired in the first act.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then we have two possibilities. The first is that the murder weapon was fired both times, but only had a bullet in it the second time. The second possibility is that the prop was fired in the first act, but the murder weapon was fired in the third act.”
“Actually, sir, the murder weapon showed signs of only being fired once.”

“Is that so?” Gavin asked, a smile crossing his face.

“Yes, sir.”

“If that’s the case, then the prop must have been fired in the first act. Why has the prop not been submitted into evidence?”

“Ah… um…” The detective began to tremble. “Ms. Skye?”

“I’m sorry, Detective, but the situation’s unchanged,” Lana said. “The prop has still not been found.”

“Oh…” Lowe sighed. “We’re still looking for it at the opera house, but it’s nowhere to be found.” He winced.

“Detective, this is a vital piece of evidence,” Gavin said. “Are there any leads on where the prop might be?”

“None, sir. Everyone who was backstage at any time during the performance was searched thoroughly the night of the murder, and none of them have been allowed back to the crime scene since. We’re pretty sure the prop is somewhere in the building.”

“Moving on, you testified that my client was apprehended by two of his fellow performers.”

“Yes, sir. Emily White and Luka Lebedev.”

“Mariya and Orlik, correct?”

“I’m sorry, sir, I don’t remember the roles they performed.”

“It says in the program that Ms. White sang the role of Mariya and Mr. Lebedev was Orlik,” Lana said. “When the shot was fired, Mr. Lebedev had recently gone offstage and Ms. White was due to enter later in the act.”

“Is either of them available to testify?” Gavin asked Lana.

“Ms. White is in the Prosecution Lobby, ready to be summoned at a moment’s notice.”

“And Mr. Lebedev?”

“Unfortunately, he is in St. Petersburg now, though he was questioned during the investigation. That’s why his testimony was submitted into evidence before the trial began.”

“One last question, detective,” Gavin said, turning back to Lowe. “Regarding the murder weapon… do you know where it came from?”

“There’s no record of a gun of the same design as the murder weapon being licensed to anyone connected to the case,” the detective said. “There’s also no available information on the gun’s model, which means we are probably dealing with a specially crafted gun that was acquired illegally.”

“And do you know who crafted it?”

“No. A single Cyrillic letter was found on the grip, though it’s meaning is unknown at the moment. We suspect whoever crafted the gun added it as a seal of sorts.”

“Is that also on the prop gun?”

“We can’t be sure until we have the gun, but everyone we asked did not have any memory of such a symbol being on it.”

“So you currently can’t trace the gun to anyone?”

“That is correct. We’re still looking into it, but when I was summoned to court, we still had no leads.”

For a few seconds, the courtroom was silent.

“My Lord, I have no further questions for the detective at this time,” Gavin finally said.

“Very well,” the judge said with a nod. “Ms. Skye, please summon your next witness.”

“Understood,” Lana said. “The prosecution calls Ms. Emily White to the stand. As she personally witnessed the murder and worked with both the defendant and the victim, I believe her testimony will be helpful.”

Ms. White entered the courtroom, everything from her appearance to the way she walked carrying the essence of a woman who took pride in her status.

“Witness, please state your name and occupation for the court,” Lana said as Ms. White reached the stand.

“Emily Teresa White, soprano in the Jensen Opera,” she answered. “I sang the role of Mariya in the Jensen Opera’s performance of Mazeppa.”

“Ms. White, you witnessed the shot that took Jack Postrel’s life, correct?”

“Yes.”

“You also apprehended the defendant?”

“Yes.”

“Please testify to the court about those events.”

“Very well. Just as we had rehearsed, Richard took out a handgun during his staged duel with Jack and fired. Jack’s acting had been so good in past performances that I don’t think anyone realized he had actually been shot until he said so. The orchestra stopped, and a huge commotion started in the audience. Realizing what had happened, Mr. Lebedev and I ran onstage and restrained Richard. He didn’t put up any resistance and let us lead him away.”

“Hm…” the judge droned. “So the shot in question was supposed to be disguised as part of the performance?”

“I disagree, My Lord,” Gavin said. “As I said before, no one in the right mind would plan to murder someone in front of that many witnesses, let alone expect his victim to continue performing as though nothing had happened.”

“It does appear to lend support to your plea, Mr. Gavin, but I’m still not convinced.”

“Of course, My Lord. Moving on…” Gavin paused to look over the testimony. “How would you describe how my client behaved after the shot?”

“He almost collapsed when Jack shouted that he had been shot for real,” Ms. White answered. “After we ran up and restrained him, he just went along without resisting.”

“Did he say anything?”

“If he did, I didn’t hear it. As far as I remember, he was silent the entire time.”

“Did anyone else see him?”

“His daughter followed us, but I kept her away.”

“You mean Michelle?”

“Is that her name?”

Gavin rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingertips. “Do you know what she did after that?” he asked.

“She looked worried, but left us alone. As for what she did after walking off, I have no idea. I kept an eye on Richard until the police took him away.”

“I see. Ms. Skye, do you have any information on Michelle Stark’s movements?”

“From what other witnesses told us,” Lana began, “Ms. Stark ran after the defendant, but returned to the house after about a minute. She didn’t leave that area until after she was questioned by the police and allowed to leave.”

“Was she searched?”

“Yes. The police found nothing unusual on her person, nor could they find anything relating to the crime in her coat or purse.”

Gavin pressed on the bridge of his nose a bit harder. “I see. And what about during that one-minute interval?”

“As far as I know, she ran in the direction of the stage when I sent her away,” Ms. White said.

“Was there anything between the stage and where you lost sight of her?”

“There was a storage room.”

“What about my client’s dressing room?”

“We had just passed that. She didn’t enter, if that’s what you wanted to ask.”

“Michelle Stark was in the orchestra pit from the moment the conductor lifted his baton to the moment the victim was shot,” Lana stated. “I hope that clears up any suspicions you might have about her, Mr. Gavin.”

Gavin said nothing.

“Mr. Gavin, do you have any further questions for the witness?” the judge asked.

“No, My Lord,” Gavin replied.

“Hm… then allow me to give my input on where things stand. Two things need to be ascertained. The first is the location of the prop gun. It’s been established that the shot in the first act was from the prop gun. Therefore, it must have been switched with the murder weapon at some point during the performance. The second is who had the opportunity to switch the guns. We are dealing with a small timeframe in which either the defendant or another person switched the prop gun with the murder weapon.”

“My Lord,” Lana started, “while the location of the prop has still not been determined, the prosecution has a witness that I believe will be able to address the issue of who had the opportunity to switch the guns.”

“Very well. Please call your witness, Ms. Skye.”

“The prosecution calls to the stand Ms. Virginia Wagner.”

A woman looking to be in her late forties took the stand. Ms. White stepped down, briefly glaring at the new witness.

I wonder what that was about…

“Witness, please state your name and occupation for the court,” Lana said.

“Virginia Wagner,” the witness replied. “I am the director of the Jensen Opera.”

“Before we discuss the matter of the murder weapon, please tell the court what you were doing during the performance and directly after the victim was shot.”

“During the entirety of the performance, I was in my office. Since the shot is in the actual opera, I didn’t think anything strange had happened until I heard the audience jeering. Before I could leave my office, someone from the crew ran in and told me Postrel had been shot for real. I went to the stage to attend to Postrel and try to restore order. Once the police arrived, I cooperated as best I could with the investigation.”

“…I see,” the judge said after a pause. “Mr. Gavin, you may begin your cross-examination.”

“Thank you, My Lord,” Gavin said. Then, turning to Ms. Wagner, “Did you see my client after the shot?”

“He was being led away by White and Lebedev,” Ms. Wagner replied.

“Where was he led?”

“I suspect he was led to one of the spare dressing rooms, though you would have to ask Ms. White about that if you wanted to be certain.”

“As it turns out,” Lana cut in, “according to Mr. Lebedev, the defendant was taken to a spare dressing room, where he stayed until the police arrested him and took him away.”

“Then there you have it,” Ms. Wagner said.

“Moving on…” Gavin continued. “You said you were in your office ‘during the entirety of the performance.’ From there, assuming the door was open, you would have been able to see down the whole backstage hallway, correct?”

“Yes. And since the door was open, I was able to see everything that happened in the hallway during the performance.”

“Before the shot, when the performance was still going on, did you see anyone go into a room other than their own?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“Woodman had lost his wallet during the intermission between the first and second acts. Apparently, it had somehow slipped out of his pocket when he was in the hallway.”

“And he went into other people’s rooms in search of it, even though it was in plain sight in the hallway?”

“No, I picked it up so I could return it to him later. After the first scene ended, he went back into his dressing room. I forgot to return his wallet to him at that time, so he later went out in search of it. When I saw him enter Stark’s room, I went after him. He seemed very relieved when I gave it back to him.”

“Did anyone else go into my client’s room?” Gavin asked.

“I don’t remember anyone else going in, no.”

“You said you ‘went after him’ when Mr. Woodman went into my client’s room. Does that mean you also went into his room?”

“Yes.”

“Did anything seem out of the ordinary when you were in there?”

“No.”

“Mr. Gavin, do you suspect the witness of switching the guns?” Lana asked.

“It’s a bit early to make any accusations,” Gavin answered, “but she has just made it clear that she had the opportunity to do so. Moving on, Ms. Wagner, you said you didn’t see anyone else enter my client’s room, other than my client, of course.”

“That’s correct,” Ms. Wagner said.

“I see.”

“Any other questions, Mr. Gavin?” the judge asked.

“Yes. The defense requests that the witness testify about the prop gun.”

“The prop gun?” Lana repeated.

“The prop gun,” Gavin confirmed. “I want to know what normally happens to it after it’s fired in the first act. In order for the guns to be switched, the killer would have to have come into possession of the prop gun at some point.”

Lana nodded. “I agree.”

“Very well,” the judge said. “Ms. Wagner, are you qualified to testify on this matter?”

“Yes,” the witness replied. “The prop gun contains a small charge of primer—Armstrong’s mixture, I believe—that explodes when the trigger is pulled, simulating a gunshot, albeit without a bullet. Because the prop is designed to simulate only one shot, it has to be reloaded after it’s used in the first act. Stark hands the prop to someone on the crew before returning to his dressing room. The prop is returned to his dressing room, ready to be fired again, during the first intermission.”

“I see. Mr. Gavin? Your cross-examination, please.”

“Yes, My Lord,” Gavin replied. “Do you have any idea who the prop was given to on the night of the murder?”

“A part-time worker,” Ms. Wagner said. “Maxwell Richardson.”

“Do you know if he had any quarrel with the defendant or the victim?”

“He was only hired a month ago, so I doubt it.”

“I see. Where does he go to refill the gun?”

“Prop storage.”

“Why not just return the gun immediately after refilling it?”

“The primer we use is very sensitive,” Ms. Wagner explained. “We want to make sure it doesn’t explode by accident unless the curtain is down. Simply dropping the gun can be enough to make the primer go off. While much of the second scene is rather loud, there’s still a risk that someone in the audience might hear the gun go off.”

“So the gun is returned during the intermission.”

“Yes. And Stark was instructed to just leave it in the holster on his costume. If he fidgeted with it…”

“It might go off,” Gavin finished.

“Exactly. As far as I’m aware, he did as he was instructed.”

“So, from the start of the second act to when my client went onstage for the third act, either the prop gun or the murder weapon was in his dressing room.”

“Yes.”

“That means, assuming my client did not switch the guns himself, we now have two possible times that the guns were switched: The first is before the crew member returned the gun to my client during the first intermission. The second is during the wallet incident, in which case either you or Mr. Woodman switched the guns.”

“That sounds correct,” Lana said. “This is, however, assuming that the defendant did not switch the guns himself.”

“So, Ms. Wagner, after handing the wallet to Mr. Woodman, did either of you stay in that room?”

“We both left immediately,” Ms. Wagner replied. “He went back to his dressing room and I went back to my office.”

“And no one else entered my client’s dressing room during the second act?”

“No one.”

“My Lord,” Gavin said to the judge, “I have no further questions for this witness.”

“Very well,” the judge said. “Ms. Skye?”

“The prosecution has no more witnesses to call,” Lana said.

“I see. Then we appear to be at the end. The defense has put forth the possibility of a mistake of fact, but has thus far only proven it to be a possibility. However, we have learned that there was only a small timeframe in which the prop gun could have been switched with the murder weapon, leaving only three possible suspects, excluding the defendant: Virginia Wagner, Rufus Woodman, and Maxwell Richardson. If the defense cannot prove that any of them switched the guns, then I will have no choice but to reject the mistake of fact plea, in which case the defendant will be found guilty of premeditated murder.

“I demand that the prosecution be prepared to summon all three of the aforementioned suspects tomorrow, and request that priority in the investigation go to locating the prop gun and looking into the murder weapon’s origin. Ms. Skye, Mr. Gavin? Do either of you have any objections to suspending the trial and continuing tomorrow?”

“No, My Lord,” Lana said.

“No, My Lord,” Gavin said.

“Then court is adjourned for the day,” the judge said with a whack of his gavel.



Author's Note

With the uploading of this chapter, I'm announcing that my RP trial, Tsar of Turnabouts, is now abandoned, as this chapter and a later one will spoil it.

---

Miles saw Maya Fey lying on the floor of some dilapidated old building. He felt himself floating on the air, his legs bent as though he was kneeling. However, he couldn’t approach her. She was breathing silently and was unharmed, though she was clearly uncomfortable. Perhaps she was sleeping; her eyes were closed, after all.

A door opened. Standing in the doorway was a figure cloaked in shadow: Shelly de Killer. Maya stirred at the sound of him entering.

“Your friend has failed you,” the man said ominously. “If you have any last words, I will make sure they are conveyed to him.”

“…Tell him he did the right thing,” Maya said, hunger depriving her voice of its usual energetic optimism. “I’m not… mad at Nick for letting you do this… Your ‘client’ is going to jail… Nick’s a hero… no matter what choices you force upon him… And they’ll find you… Engarde’s a coward… he’ll tell the police all about you… We won… even if you kill me… we won…”

“Noble words. I will make sure he hears them.” He unsheathed a knife and held Maya’s shoulders, forcing her to sit, then cut her throat.



Miles awoke, sweat making his pajamas stick to his skin. He looked at the clock. 5:03 AM. With a shaken sigh, he turned over and attempted to go back to sleep. He had worked late the previous night; Wright had revealed to him that Shelly de Killer had kidnapped Maya and was holding her hostage, willing to release her only if Engarde was acquitted. Since that revelation, they had worked hard to locate de Killer, though he eluded them.

Though the investigators were doing all they could to track down the assassin, Miles was not optimistic. In the end, he believed, it would come down to him and Wright, and though he would do everything he could to draw out the trial, there was nothing to be done if the investigators failed: the truth would be revealed, and Maya would die for it.



My path is a just one, Miles reminded himself as he waited to be summoned to the courtroom. Lives have been lost in the pursuit of justice since time immemorial, and if Maya herself wishes to have Engarde convicted, then it is my duty to see justice done. I know I will regret it… but it is not my place to have people kept in the dark for fear that the light of truth may hurt them. I have seen what walking that path does… The pain of having an innocent person die in the pursuit of justice would be a mere itch compared to the pain of condemning an innocent person to death so that a lie may save another.

He found himself suddenly wanting to call Lana. It would be almost six o’clock in London, so it was unlikely he would be interrupting anything.

“Miles?” the familiar voice answered after a few rings.

Miles sighed. “I just wanted to talk to you before going into court today.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Yes. It’s a delicate matter, so I can’t tell you everything, but someone has been threatened by someone who wants an acquittal. We’re doing everything in our power to make sure the threat is taken care of, but we’re running out of time.” He could feel tears trying to well up in his eyes, though he knew they would not come.

“But there’s something keeping you from letting the defendant be acquitted?”

“The defendant is guilty. I know this for a fact. There is only one other person who could be indicted in this case, meaning a guilty verdict for them—and by extension, a death sentence—would be inevitable if the defendant were acquitted.”

Lana didn’t say anything.

“Please don’t worry if you don’t have any input to give,” Miles said after realizing Lana would not respond. “This isn’t your burden, and I shouldn’t have made you think about it.”

“Don’t…”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t apologize. I can’t pretend to be in your position.”

“That’s right. The verdict… is something that Wright and I will determine. He knows the truth, too. I don’t know what he has decided, but I… I believe I know what I will do. I’ll regret either choice, but I will make a choice regardless.”

“I love you,” Lana said, her tone hinting that she was trying to reassure Miles of his decision.

“I love you, too.”

“I’m sure you’ll make the right choice in the end, just as you always have for so long.”

“…Thank you.”

For a while, neither of them said anything.

“Lana,” Miles finally said, “when I return…”

“Whatever you need, I’ll be there for you.”

“Thank you.”

“Mr. Edgeworth!” the bailiff called as he entered. “You’re needed in court.”

“I have to go,” Miles said to Lana. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”



“Court is now in session for the trial of Matt Engarde,” the judge said with a whack of his gavel.

“The defense is ready, Your Honor,” Wright said.

“The prosecution has been ready for a while, Your Honor,” Miles half-lied.

“Now, as I recall,” the judge began, “we concluded yesterday’s session with a big mystery on our hands. The mystery being what exactly was Ms. Adrian Andrews’ role in this murder? That is to say, is she really connected to the crime itself? Mr. Edgeworth, if you would please inform the court of today’s proceedings.”

“Adrian Andrews,” Miles said. “She forged evidence that threw suspicion onto Mr. Engarde, and then proceeded to escape the crime scene by wearing a Nickel Samurai costume. The guilt of these actions are those from which she cannot escape.”

“Hmm, then you’re saying that she is guilty after all…?”

“I’m not finished, Your Honor. Ms. Andrews had nothing to do with committing the actual murder.” Miles took out De Killer’s card. “I would like to direct the court’s attention to this card.”

“What is that…? It looks like a shell…”

“This is the calling card of a certain assassin.”

“A-Assassin, you say!?”

Miles struck his desk. “Yes, Juan Corrida was killed by a professional assassin! And the person who hired the assassin, his client so to speak, is Matt Engarde!”

The gallery began murmuring, though the judge simply waited for them to quiet down.

“Wh-What a surprising turn of events!” he exclaimed.

“I would think it’s become commonplace by now, Your Honor,” Miles replied, doing his “evil smile.”

Wright, you know the truth. I am willing to work with you to stall the verdict on the off chance that Maya can be rescued, but in the end, if she is not safe, I will make sure that Engarde is convicted and Maya’s final wishes fulfilled.

“But we still have to hold out as long as we can,” Mia said to Wright, who apparently had been thinking something similar. “At least, until Maya’s safe and sound.”

That is my hope, but one must be prepared for the worst.

“I wonder how the trial will turn out today…?” Wright muttered.

“Now then, please call your first witness, Mr. Edgeworth,” the judge said with a whack of his gavel.

“The prosecution calls the defendant’s ‘mentor’, Mr. Will Powers to the stand,” Miles announced.

I never thought I’d see him in court again…

Powers took the stand.

“Now then, witness,” Miles continued. “Your name and occupation, please.”

“O-OK,” Powers stuttered. “I’m… Uh… Will Powers. I’m a poor, underpaid action star…”

You’re the Steel Samurai. I highly doubt you would qualify as underpaid…

“And what is your relation to the defendant?” Miles asked.

“Well, that’s… I guess I’m sort of a lousy mentor to him in a way. Yeah.”

“Um, Mr. Powers,” the judge called. “Please… You don’t need to put yourself down so much.”

Exactly what I was thinking.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” Powers said. “Well, but I’m just kind of a nothing sort of guy.”

“On the night of the murder, you visited the defendant’s room,” Miles stated. “Is this correct?”

“Y-Yes. Um, but you know… I didn’t actually get to see Matt when I went…”

“All you need to do is answer what you’re asked. Now then, I would like you to please testify about when you went to Mr. Engarde’s room.”

“O-OK… Sure… After the award ceremony, I went by myself to Matt’s room. Matt was standing there in front of his room, still in his Nickel Samurai costume. He was talking with someone. At first, I thought it was the bellboy. I watched the two of them for a while, but then I gave up and went back. I had guests with me that night, and I couldn’t make them wait for me.”

“Hmm…” the judge mumbled. “Nothing sounds out of place in Mr. Powers’ testimony.”

“If one assumes that the person Mr. Engarde was speaking with was an ordinary bellboy…” Miles commented.

“Wh-What are you implying?”

Miles did his “evil smile” and pointed to Wright. “Well, Mr. Wright. Let’s have your cross-examination, shall we?”

“Looks like we’re in another sticky situation,” Mia commented.

“Huh?” Wright managed to say.

I’d think it would be obvious, Wright.

“A trap,” Mia continued. “Can’t you smell it, Phoenix? But for us to find out more, we’re just going to have to charge in head first, right?”

Wright appeared to sigh. “The defendant’s room?” he asked Powers. “Why did you go there?”

“Well, I’m his mentor,” Powers replied, “like a big brother sort of, and I wanted to say congrats…” He stopped.

I wonder why he just trailed off like that…

“Wh-What’s wrong?” the judge asked. “Why did you stop?”

“M-M-Mr. Wright!” Powers cried.

“Wh-Wh-What is it?” Wright asked in response, visibly worried.

“You… You’re going to try to trick me into a corner, aren’t you?”

“Huh?”

“I… I know I’m just a poor, underpaid action star, but… But… I… I’m not the killer!”

“Um, no one said you were, Mr. Powers.”

“No, please! Don’t trick me! Every time you do your lawyer thing, the witness suddenly turns into the bad guy…”

For God’s sake…

“…Witness,” Miles interjected. “I will personally talk to the defense at a later time. So for now, please kindly cooperate and continue with your testimony.”

“S-Sorry…” Powers stammered.

“So, you went to the defendant’s room,” the judge confirmed. “And then?”

“Matt was standing there in front of his room, still in his Nickel Samurai costume.”

“Are you sure that was Matt Engarde?” Wright pressed.

“Yeah, I’m sure. He wasn’t wearing the Nickel Samurai mask then.”

“And?” Miles asked. “What was the defendant doing, standing in front of his own room?”

“He was talking to someone,” Powers said. “At first, I thought it was the bellboy.”

“‘At first’?” Wright confirmed. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well, he was in a bellboy-ish uniform and he had a bottle of juice on a tray.”

“…Sounds like an ordinary bellboy to me.”

“Um, yeah, but… I didn’t think he was a normal bellboy.”

“And why was that?”

“Um… Why did I think that, Mr. Wright?”

“H-How am I supposed to know!?”

“Sorry, but I can’t remember right now. …Sorry.”

“You saw the two of them, the bellboy and the defendant, together, correct?” Wright asked, moving on.

“Yeah,” Powers answered. “The bellboy just wanted to say congrats.”

“Now, while you were watching the two of them, did you notice anything strange?”

“Um… You know, I did feel something weird. I think it was because Matt… Well, he gave the bellboy a tip.”

“A tip?”

“So, how long did you watch the two of them?” the judge asked.

“Ah, not more than a minute or two, I think,” Powers said. “I had guests with me that night, and I couldn’t make them wait for me.”

“So who are these ‘guests’ you’re talking about?” Wright asked.

“You guys, of course. You and Maya and little Pearl.”

Pearl? The things people name their children these days…

“I thought it would be really rude since I invited you guys, if I disappeared on you…” Powers continued. “So I went back to my seat pretty soon after seeing Matt in the hallway.”

Apparently, Ms. Oldbag isn’t the only Global Studios employee with a bad memory… If he doesn’t remember just why he was questioned to begin with, we’re not going to get anywhere.

“Do you remember this incident?” Mia asked Wright. “Did Mr. Powers leave his seat that night?”

“I don’t remember that happening at all,” Wright replied. “Maya was making such a racket in her hyper state… I ended up focusing on her.”

“…I see. In any case, from his story, he probably wasn’t gone for very long.”

“After the award ceremony, I went by myself to Matt’s room,” Powers repeated.

This is ridiculous. Is he just repeating himself to try to jog his memory, or is the quality of his memory inversely proportional to that of his acting?

“Matt was standing in front of his room,” Powers continued, “still in his Nickel Samurai costume. He was talking with someone. At first, I thought it was the bellboy.”

“Hold it!” Wright barked. “‘At first’? What do you mean by that?”

Not you, too, Wright…

“I didn’t think he was a normal bellboy,” Wright replied.

“And why was that?” Wright asked.

“Um… Why did I think that, Mr. Wright?”

“H-How am I supposed to know!?” Something appeared to dawn on Wright.

Finally…

“Actually, Mr. Powers,” Wright said, “only a few minutes ago, you stated: ‘Um… You know, I did feel something weird. I think it was because Matt… Well, he gave the bellboy a tip.’ Could it be that you felt something ‘strange’ about the tip-giving incident itself…?”

“… AH!” Powers recalled. “Yeah! That’s it! You really know your job!”

“Hmm…” the judge mumbled. “Mr. Edgeworth.”

“Yes, Your Honor?” Miles replied. Let me guess: you’ve forgotten what was just said, too.

“This bellboy… He wasn’t an ordinary one, was he…?”

“Perhaps we should let the witness tell us.”

“Very well. Mr. Powers. Please amend your testimony.”

“You mean about the bellboy, right?” Powers asked. “Matt gave the bellboy a tip.”

“So he gave the bellboy a tip,” Wright said. “What’s so strange about that?”

“Ah, well, you see, Matt’s not a poor penny-pincher like me.”

Says the man who came to court in a tuxedo that looks like it was designed by an orange juice producer…

“I was trying to figure out how much it was because the tip really shocked me,” Powers continued.

“‘How much it was’…?” Wright repeated.

“But that’s when something even more surprising happened! The bellboy was putting the tip he got in his pocket. And that’s when I got my first good look at the guy’s face… I was really shocked!”

“Hmm…” the judge mumbled again. “I’m afraid I don’t follow at all.”

“What was so shocking about the bellboy’s face, Mr. Powers?” Wright asked.

“Well, he wasn’t exactly a ‘boy’…” Powers clarified, “more like an old ‘gramps’…”

“Ahem!” the judge interrupted. “I hope you know that discrimination towards old men is a no-no in my court!”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant at all! In the smack middle of the guy’s face, there was a line of stitches!”

“A line of stitches…?”

“Yeah! And it went straight from the tippy top of his head to the bottom of his chin! Almost like if that thread snapped, all the stuff in his head would come spilling out.”

“Ah!” Wright yelped, appearing to understand.

Thanks for the mental image, Mr. Powers.

“What is it, Mr. Wright?” the judge asked, noticing the attorney’s signature slump and cold sweat.

“A-Ah, nothing, Your Honor!” Wright managed to say, recovering.

Miles heard a harsh whisper from Mia, but couldn’t make it out.

“You sure you don’t have something you would like to say, Mr. Wright?” the judge asked.

“Huh?” Wright responded, feigning ignorance. “Umm… What did you just say, Your Honor?”

“…Nothing, Mr. Wright. Nothing. We’re just going around and around in circles. Now then, Mr. Powers. Please continue with your testimony.”

Speaking of going around and around in circles…

“So he gave the bellboy a tip,” Wright repeated. “What’s so strange about that?”

“Ah, well, you see, Matt’s not a poor penny-pincher like me.”

Says the man with a house in Rancho Santa Fe…

“I was trying to figure out how much it was because the tip really shocked me,” Powers continued.

“‘How much it was’…?” Wright echoed.

We’ve been through this…

“But that’s when something even more surprising happened!” Powers said. “The bellboy was putting the tip he got in his pocket. And that’s when I got my first good look at the guy’s face… I was really shocked!”

“Hmm…” the judge mumbled again. “I’m afraid I don’t follow at all.”

Wright pounded on his desk. “The defendant is a huge star,” he said. “He can afford to give generous tips, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Um, sure,” Powers said. “But giving him that much was maybe a little too much, I think…”

“Would you please clarify for the court,” Miles requested, “about how much would you say the defendant gave to the bellboy?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I can’t even begin to guess.”

“And why is that?” the judge asked.

“Because he gave the bellboy a really, really fat roll of cash.”

“A ROLL OF CASH!?” Wright screamed in shock. The gallery began murmuring.

Why are you so surprised, Wright? Judging by your reaction to the comment about the stitches, you already knew who this “bellboy” really was.

The judge banged his gavel. “Ah, well…” he commented. “How interesting… That certainly was a very generous tip, wasn’t it?”

“A very fat roll of cash…” Miles cut in. “That can hardly be called a ‘tip’, Your Honor!”

“Hmm…”

“Objection!” Wright shouted. “The defendant is a superstar!” He hit his desk. “That kind of tip is typical fare for people like him!”

“Objection!” Miles shouted back, striking his desk. “Are you saying that all superstars are super-spenders!? If I could receive large rolls of cash by simply bringing people things on trays… Then why on Earth would I stand around here prosecuting!?”

The judge banged his gavel. “Hmm, so supposing that roll of cash was not a tip…” he began, “then what was it?”

“Payment, Your Honor.”

“Payment…?”

Miles did his “evil smile.” Come now… even if every bill in that roll was a one, it would be a ridiculous tip… “Isn’t it obvious?” he replied. “For the murder of Mr. Juan Corrida.”

“Then… Then the bellboy the witness saw…”

“Yes, he was the assassin.”

The gallery started up again, quickly silenced by three whacks of the judge’s gavel.

“H-Hold your horses now!” the judge exclaimed. “Mr. Edgeworth, you don’t have any proof of this… do you?”

“Have I ever been unprepared to support my claims, Your Honor?” Miles replied, indicating De Killer’s card. “I have here, the card Shelly de Killer left at the scene of the crime.”

“Shelly… de Killer…”

“He is the person the police’s special investigations team has been chasing for ages.” He paused to strike his desk for emphasis. “I am certain that the person the witness saw was this very assassin, Shelly de Killer!”

“R-Really!?” Powers stammered.

“What’s wrong, Mr. Powers?” the judge asked after a pause.

“No, nothing. Something just clicked in my head and I think I just figured something out!”

“Oh?”

“Actually, I saw that bellboy again later on that night!”

“WHAAAT!?” Wright yelped. The gallery started up again, though the judge quickly silenced them.

“Mr. Powers!” the judge demanded. “Please testify! Tell us what you saw!”

“Yes, sir!” Powers responded. “Right away! This time, I was in that hallway because I had to go to the bathroom! And that’s when that bellboy I saw earlier came out of the room! Of course, when I say ‘room’, I mean Juan Corrida’s room! Now that I think about it, that bellboy did seem kinda out of place! Yeah! So he had to be the assassin! I’m sure of it! I mean…”

“Thank you very much,” Miles interrupted. “That is all we need for now.”

“Huh? But I’m not done. There’s still more…”

“Let us first establish that the bellboy was truly Mr. de Killer. Then we shall see.”

“Hmm…” the judge mumbled. “So the bellboy came out of the victim’s room… And if this bellboy really was the assassin… Then, I think the answer is fairly obvious.”

“That would be correct, Your Honor. Well, Mr. Wright. I believe it’s your turn… to entertain and make us laugh.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha,” Wright replied, an embarrassed look on his face.

“This is no laughing matter!” Mia snapped.

“Um… so what exactly was so ‘out of place’ about him?” Wright asked Powers.

“Wright, Wright, Wright,” Miles taunted. “Why the insipid grin?”

Wright hunched over and started sweating.

You are right to sweat.

“Um, well, the bellboy was empty-handed,” Powers explained.

“Empty-handed?” Wright repeated.

“That bellboy was one of those room-service people, right? But he wasn’t pushing a cart and he wasn’t holding a tray either! You’d call that ‘a little strange’ too, wouldn’t you?”

“Hmm… I agree that it is a bit strange, Mr. Powers,” the judge said.

Wright pounded on his desk. “There is nothing strange or unusual about an empty-handed bellboy!” he insisted.

“But there really, really is!” Powers replied.

“There really, really isn’t!”

“Objection!” Miles barked. “If you two are done being schoolchildren… Bellboys are for room service. There is no reason for them to be empty-handed, ever.” Miles struck his desk. “Your Honor! I ask that the witness’ previous statement be supplanted with this new one.”

“I see,” the judge said. “Very well, this court recognizes and grants the prosecution’s request. Mr. Powers, if you could amend your testimony, please.”

“Y-Yes, sir,” Powers answered. “I thought it was kinda strange for a bellboy to come out of a guest’s room empty-handed!”

“Objection!” Wright yelled. “Mr. Powers.”

“Y-Y-Yes?”

“You’re easily influenced by other people’s words, aren’t you? As soon as you heard that the bellboy might have been the killer, you got caught up in believing it must be true.”

“But… But… Isn’t he really suspicious!? He’s got all those stitches, and… and…”

Wright struck his desk, cutting Powers off. “So? A baseball has stitches! Are you saying all baseballs are suspicious because they have stitches!?”

Powers gulped.

And here I was thinking Mr. Powers was the only one with logic problems here…

“Well, there’s also…” Powers continued, “I mean, what about him being empty-handed!?”

“I would like to ask the court to please take a look here,” Wright said, indicating a photograph of the crime scene.

“This is… the crime scene…” the judge commented.

“There is a wine glass sitting next to Mr. Corrida’s body. The liquid inside this glass is tomato juice. And now, if you would look at what is on top of the table in the lower right corner here… Anyone can clearly see that it is a tray with a bottle of tomato juice on it!” He paused to hit his desk. “The bellboy had just brought this to Mr. Corrida’s room. He left the tray in the room, which is why he was empty-handed when he left!”

“Aah!” Powers yelped.

“B-But!” the judge interrupted. “That would mean that the bellboy had seen and left a dead body in the room!”

“Ah, but can you prove that Mr. Corrida was already dead at that time?” Wright asked, shaking his head.

“Uh… M-Mr. Edgeworth!”

“…Yes?” Miles replied.

“I-I blame you for leading me down this route!”

“Heh heh heh,” Miles chuckled, doing his “evil smile.” “I’m terribly sorry… Witness. Isn’t there one more thing you would like to share with us?”

“I-Is there?” Powers replied.

“The bellboy was empty-handed… Or should I say empty-‘hand’ed? I recall you had something interesting to say about his hands…”

“Oh yeah! I almost forgot!”

“Huh?” Wright stammered. “Wh-What…?”

“That bellboy—he was wearing gloves!”

“Gloves?”

“Yeah, pitch black, leather ones. All the other bellboys don’t wear gloves like that, right?”

“Black leather gloves…” the judge muttered. “Why didn’t you mention them earlier!?”

“S-Sorry… It slipped my mind.”

Wright pounded on his desk. “So what if he had gloves?” he shouted, his voice wavering. “A lot of bellboys wear gloves!”

“Come on, Mr. Wright! That bellboy was wearing black leather ones!”

Wright hit his desk again. “So? A football is made of leather! Are you saying all footballs are suspicious because they are made of leather!?”

Powers gulped.

Are you a lawyer or a politician, Wright!? Your logic is an embarrassment!

The judge banged his gavel.

“But that man…” the judge said. “He received a large roll of cash from the defendant. And then he was seen leaving the crime scene wearing black leather gloves. I don’t think that even someone like myself can believe he was just another bellboy…”

“Urgh…” Wright groaned.

“It seems that we have finally come to an understanding…” Miles said. “Now then, witness. Please continue with the rest of your testimony.”

“The rest…?”

“Oh yes, please tell us more,” the judge said.

“OK!” Powers replied, suddenly looking much more excited. He then got serious. “After leaving Juan’s room, the bellboy went and knocked on Matt’s door, just like that. He gave something to the person inside the room. Then the old guy just left, without even going into the room. After that, I went to the bathroom and then back to my seat.”

“So the bellboy, after leaving the crime scene, next went to the defendant’s room…?”

“Yeah. I kinda saw all that by accident…”

“Hmm… I think it’s safe to say that we can no longer consider this bellboy to be ‘normal’. Now then, let’s get started, shall we? Mr. Wright, your cross-examination, please.”

“Yes, Your Honor…” Wright sighed, visibly worried. “Is that what you saw while you were busy spying?” he asked Powers, managing to recover.

“E-Excuse me!?” Powers snapped. “I may be a poor, underpaid action star, but even I wouldn’t stoop to spying!”

“Well, I think the point is where did you watch all this from, Mr. Powers?” the judge asked.

“Oh, um, from the door of the bathroom with my left eye, in a sort of sneaky, spy-like…”

“Please,” Miles cut in, “does it really matter if he was doing it over or underhandedly? What did the bellboy do next? That’s all I care to know.”

“He gave something to the person inside the room.”

“Hold it!” Wright yelled, hitting his desk for emphasis. “I said, ‘Hold it!’”

“Umm… OK.”

“That’s better!” He paused to clear his throat. “What kind of statement is that!? Please elaborate and give us a few more details!”

“Oh, umm… OK…”

“So who took the ‘something’ the bellboy handed off?”

“Um, actually, I don’t know,” Powers admitted.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m sorry, but I only saw the person’s arm.”

“Only an arm…?” the judge confirmed.

“Then you’re saying you didn’t see the person’s face?” Wright pressed.

“Yeah,” Powers said.

“Well, it was Mr. Engarde’s room, correct?” the judge recalled. “So it could have only been Mr. Engarde himself, I’d say.”

“And then?” Miles asked. “What did the bellboy do after that?”

“Oh, so after he gave the person inside the room the thing…” Powers continued. “Then the old guy just left, without even going into the room.”

“Where did this bellboy go after he left Mr. Engarde’s room?” Wright asked.

“Hmm… He opened the door to Viola Hall, went in there, and who knows after that, right? After that, I went to the bathroom and then back to my seat.”

“Did you see anything strange, suspicious, or just out of the ordinary at that time?”

“Oh yeah, I saw that one thing!”

“What!?”

“There was this jittery alien with a ray gun… It was watching Juan’s door like some sort of stalker.”

Thank God I wasn’t staying at that hotel… otherwise “it” would have been watching my door…

“…Um, I think we can forget about the alien…” Wright said. “Well, Mr. Powers’ testimony just now was just as vague as his first,” he commented, turning to Mia.

“It’s a little troublesome, isn’t it?” she agreed. “But I’m sure if you press him enough, everything will become clearer. Although, that just makes it harder on us, doesn’t it?”

“Ugh… Talk about a lose-lose situation.”

“After leaving Juan’s room,” Powers repeated, “the bellboy went and knocked on Matt’s door, just like that. He gave something to the person inside the room.”

“Hold it!” Wright shouted, pounding on his desk. “I said, ‘Hold it!’”

“Umm… OK.”

I’ve heard rondos that are less repetitive than this trial…

“That’s better!” Wright said. He cleared his throat again. “What kind of statement is that!? Please elaborate and give us a few more details!”

“Oh, umm… OK…” Powers muttered.

“He gave ‘something’ to this person?”

“Yeah.”

“And what was this ‘something’?”

“Hah hah hah. If I remembered what it was, I wouldn’t be calling it a ‘something’, would I?”

“But this implies that something was removed from the scene of the crime!” the judge remarked. “Are you sure you really can’t remember, Mr. Powers?”

“Umm… I think it was something kinda small…”

“I would like to summarize the testimony up to this point, if you don’t mind,” Miles said. “When the bellboy left the crime scene, he immediately went to the defendant’s room. There, he handed a small item of some sort to the person inside. As for the person who received the item, all you could see was the person’s arm…”

“Yes, yes! It was just like that!”

“Mr. Edgeworth,” the judge cut in. “Is all this really that important?”

“Of course, Your Honor,” Miles replied. “I think this is of the utmost importance.” He paused to strike his desk. “This is when whatever was removed from the crime scene was handed over to the client!”

“Hmm… Mr. Powers, please try to remember what it was the bellboy handed off.”

“Um… Well, let’s see…” Powers stammered. “Hmm… I think it was… No…”

“If you remember, please add it to your testimony.”

“Y-Yes, sir. If I saw it again, I could say for sure, but I think it was some sort of wooden statue.”

“Objection!” Wright shouted. However, he didn’t continue.

Yes, Wright?

Powers looked at Wright, who was still silent, both hands on his desk. The judge was trying to figure out who had shouted.

“What was the point of that pregnant pause!?” Miles roared.

“Where did that objection come from!?” the judge demanded. “Well, speak up!”

“Uh, it was me, Your Honor…” Wright said.

Mia whispered something to Wright, who responded in kind.

“Mr. Wright!” the judge barked. “If you have something to say, please spit it out!”

“Y-Yes, Your Honor,” Wright said. “Mr. Powers. The ‘something’ you saw…” He paused to take out what looked like a teddy bear. “Was it this item?”

That’s that toy that we found at Engarde’s mansion…

“Oh, hey!” Powers exclaimed. “That’s it! That’s the something! Wow, Mr. Wright. You really figured it out.”

“Hmm, I recall we found this at Matt Engarde’s mansion…” Miles commented.

“At the d-defendant’s house!?” the judge blurted out. The gallery started up, though the judge banged his gavel to quiet them down. “What does this mean!?” he continued.

“It’s simple, your Honor. Shelly de Killer assassinated Juan Corrida in his room. And then he stole this wooden bear from the scene of the crime.”

“Then, the bear being found at Mr. Engarde’s mansion would mean…”

Miles struck his desk. “It goes without saying, Your Honor,” he said. “Mr. Matt Engarde is De Killer’s client!”

The gallery started up again, silenced somewhat by three whacks of the judge’s gavel. “Order! Order! Order!” he yelled. The gallery continued, albeit less loudly. “…I said ORDER!!!” He directed his gaze at Wright. “Mr. Wright. This is a most unfortunate turn of events for you.”

“Yeah…” Wright grumbled. “Sorry, Mia,” he said to his assistant. They continued back and forth for a bit, though Miles couldn’t make it out.

“Hmm… I think it is clear that there is no need for us to continue this trial,” the judge announced.

I suppose you’ll next announce that there’s a continent to the west of Europe, Your Honor?

Wright pounded on his desk. “Your Honor!” he begged. “A minute, please!”

“Y-Yes, Mr. Wright?” the judge replied.

“There are still a few points left that we have not fully explored!”

“What are you trying to pull!?” Miles demanded.

“Oh… Well, we can’t have that,” the judge said. “Alright, Mr. Wright. What questionable point would you like to explore further?”

Wright hit his desk again. “Mr. Powers’ testimony, of course!”

“Huh?” Powers yelped. “I know that my testimony was kind of shaky, but—”

“Objection!” Miles interrupted. “Your inanity stupefies me, Mr. Wright.” I know you want to draw the trial out, but could you please do it without demanding that testimonies be repeated enough for a parrot to be able to recite them? “We have already clarified all questionable points during the cross-examination just now!”

“Urk,” Wright grunted.

“Wasting time like this, calling the testimony questionable… I’d say it’s your head that’s questionable here!”

“Aaah!”

“Yes, I agree,” the judge said with a nod, writing down what was most likely a penalty for Wright. “The cross-examination went smoothly and there was nothing wrong with the testimony. Now then, I believe—”

“Hold it!” Wright yelled. “P-Please! Wait!”

“You are being very persistent today.”

If you don’t have a good reason to keep going this time, I’m going to demand that you be held in contempt of court.

“I know my outburst just now was a little… questionable,” Wright said.

“Questionable indeed,” Miles agreed.

“But!” He paused to hit his desk again. “There really are some questionable points left to discuss, Your Honor!”

“What are you trying to pull!?”

“Oh… Well, we can’t have that,” the judge said. “Alright, Mr. Wright. What questionable point would you like to explore further?”

“There was one thing in Mr. Powers’ testimony that was very unclear,” Wright said. “And that is the identity of the person who received the bear! ‘He gave something to the person inside the room.’ ‘I’m sorry, but I only saw the person’s arm.’ As long as we don’t know who it was that took the bear, we can’t be sure of…”

“Aaaaaaaaaaaah!” Powers screamed, cutting Wright off. For a while, no one spoke.

Everyone insists on wasting time, it seems…

“Wh-What is it, Mr. Powers!?” the judge finally asked. “If you’re going to scream like that, at least give us a good reason why!”

“O-Oh, yeah…” Powers said sheepishly. “Sorry. Actually… So… I remembered. Um… I remembered who took the bear…”

“Wha—!?” Wright yelped.

“Really!?” the judge asked.

“I mean, I only saw his arm…” Powers admitted, “But… But… The arm… It was the Nickel Samurai’s arm! I swear it!”

“YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING!!” Wright screamed.

“Are you sure of that, Mr. Powers!?” Miles demanded.

“Yeah!” Powers said. “I’m sure it was the Nickel Samurai!”

The gallery started up again, calmed down somewhat by three whacks of the judge’s gavel.

“Order! Order!” he shouted. He looked at Wright. “It looks like you’ve dug your own grave… yet again.”

The only thing more repetitive than the cross-examinations…

“So the person who took in this little bear was the Nickel Samurai,” Miles said. “And, as we all know, Matt Engarde is the Nickel Samurai!”

The gallery was still quite noisy, though the judge did nothing this time.

“Thanks to the defense, we’ve made that all the clearer,” the judge said.

“What am I supposed to do now!?” Wright begged of his assistant. “Mia, help!”

“You don’t have time to act lost,” Mia replied. “You’ve got to find another angle to attack this from! Hurry!”

The judge banged his gavel. “Now,” he said, “I will bring this cross-examination to—”

“Hold it!” Wright shouted. “Your Honor!”

“Again, Mr. Wright? “We’ve already removed any and all questionable areas of this testimony.”

“It’s about time you were removed from this court, Mr. Wright,” Miles said.

Wright pounded on his desk. “There are… There are still questions left unanswered!”

“What are you trying to pull!?” Miles barked. Blast it! Now he has me repeating myself!

“Oh… Well, we can’t have that,” the judge said for the third time. “Alright, Mr. Wright. What questionable point would you like to explore further?”

Wright hit his desk again. “I think it’s fairly obvious that the bear itself is very questionable!” he insisted.

“The bear… Mr. Wright?”

“This was found at Mr. Engarde’s mansion. However, Mr. Engarde was arrested at the hotel that night! Which means that since the murder occurred, he has not had a chance to go home!”

“Oh…”

“I think Your Honor has already figured out what I’m trying to say. It is not possible that it was Mr. Engarde who took this bear to his mansion!”

The gallery reached an intolerable level of noise, though the judge only required a single whack of his gavel to silence them.

“Wh-Why, that’s very true!” the judge acknowledged. “We didn’t consider that point, Mr. Wright! There was no way, timewise, for the defendant to have taken this bear home.”

“Objection!” Miles shouted. He shrugged, amused. “Your haven’t gotten the best of me yet, Mr. Wright.”

“Huh!?” Wright blurted.

“I remember it clear as day. I remember what you muttered to yourself at Engarde’s mansion. ‘I can’t believe it… That butler… All this time, he was De Killer…’ De Killer and Engarde were working together, so to speak.” Miles struck his desk. “And De Killer was hiding at Engarde Mansion… as its butler.”

“Wh-What a… bold move…” the judge commented.

“The bear figurine was brought back to Engarde Mansion by De Killer himself. When it looked like he was about to be arrested, Engarde had him do so. I assume because it would’ve been bad had the police found it during their investigation.”

“Hmm…”

“Well, Mr. Wright?” Miles taunted. “You’ve been quiet for a while now…”

“I think we’ve heard enough,” the judge said with a whack of his gavel. “We now know why this bear figurine was at the defendant’s mansion, as well as who it was that received the bear from the assassin in his room… Everything has become very clear. The client who hired the assassin to commit the murder was Mr. Matt Engarde! …I see no reason for this trial to continue. Therefore, I will now hand down my verdict!”

“Thank you, Your Honor, for understanding,” Miles said, taking a bow.

I do not know what you will think of me for my indirect role in Maya’s death, Wright, but you should know by now that I will not let filth like Engarde escape justice.

“You see, Mr. Wright?” Miles continued. “You could not win against the truth, could you?”

“Any last objections, Mr. Wright?”

Wright was silent.

“I will now announce my ver—”

“Objection!” Wright interrupted.

I think I know what you’re going to do. Say what you will; for Maya’s sake, I’ll play your game, but in the end, I will not allow one innocent life to be sacrificed to save another.

“Your Honor,” Wright said. “Right now, we have these two reasons to believe my client is a client of the assassin. Reason number one. He accepted the bear figurine from the assassin. Reason number two. That very same figurine was found at Engarde Mansion. However!” He paused to strike his desk. “It’s possible this is all the work of a certain other person!”

“What are you saying…?” the judge asked.

“What I am saying is, it’s possible a different person is De Killer’s real client!”

The judge banged his gavel to silence the gallery. “The ‘real’ client…?”

“Yes.”

“Tsk, tsk,” Miles chuckled. “Is this all you have?”

“Now then, Mr. Wright,” the judge said. “Let’s hear your theory. Who do you say is the real client of De Killer, and therefore, the real murderer?”

“Take that!” Wright yelled, holding Adrian Andrews’s photo.

“Adrian Andrews…!?”

“Yes. We already know that she tried to frame Matt Engarde for the crime… By wearing a spare Nickel Samurai costume!”

“Ah!” Powers yelped. “Then… Then the ‘Nickel Samurai’s arm’ that I saw…”

“That could have very well been Ms. Andrews!” Wright insisted over the gallery’s comments.

“But what about Mr. Engarde?” the judge asked.

“If you would please recall yesterday’s testimony, the defendant was taking a nap during the break period.”

“That’s right… Then… finding this figure at Mr. Engarde’s mansion…?”

“It was a well-laid trap set by Ms. Andrews.”

Wright, I hope you understand just what you are getting yourself into… If, despite my efforts, Ms. Andrews is indicted, you will have to live the rest of your life with the knowledge that you knowingly and willingly sent an innocent woman to her death for a crime she did not commit. You do not strike me as the kind of man who could handle such a burden… For Ms. Andrews’s sake and yours, I hope you abandon this path before it is too late…

“Mr. Edgeworth…” the judge said, calling Miles’s attention back to the present. “What is your opinion on this?”

Other than that Wright is walking a very dangerous path in the wrong direction?

“I can’t even begin to count the flaws in the defense’s logic,” Miles said after a pause. “Besides which, there is no evidence to support it. However… I can’t fully discount its possibility either.”

“Hmm…” the judge mumbled.

The gallery was rather vocal in its complaints. Miles paid them little mind; he knew what they were saying.

There is no justification for what you are doing, Wright. Save Maya, but send an innocent woman to her death while allowing Engarde to prosper… or lose Maya, but see justice done. I’ll play your game, Wright, but the price may well be your very soul…

The judge finally banged his gavel to quiet the gallery down.

“Order! Order! Order!” he bellowed, his voice starting to show signs of growing hoarse. “All disruptive parties will be forced to leave the courtroom!”

“Your Honor,” Miles called. “…For the benefit of the defense, I’m willing to play along with his ‘what if’ game.

“His ‘what if’ game, Mr. Edgeworth?”

“The prosecution is prepared to challenge the defense’s theory.”

Wright appeared surprised, but said nothing.

“Mr. Wright,” Miles continued. “Even you must have thought it strange and wondered, ‘Why would the criminal want this little wooden bear…?’”

“Why do you ask?” Wright replied. “Is there something special about it?”

“Absolutely. And I’m sure that once the court knows its significance, the true killer’s identity will become crystal clear.” Miles paused to strike his desk, turning his attention to the judge. “Your Honor! The prosecution calls upon a witness who will clear all doubts against Ms. Andrews.”

“And who would that be!?” the judge asked.

“It’s quite simple, Your Honor. Ms. Adrian Andrews herself.”

The gallery started up again, though the judge silenced them quickly. “I see… Well then, the court will take a short 10 minute recess. The prosecution will prepare its witness in that time.”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

The judge banged his gavel again.



“Is it over?” Ms. Andrews asked as Miles entered the prosecution lobby.

“No,” Miles replied. “As I predicted, your testimony will be required again.”

“What do you need me to testify about?”

“A bear figurine found its way from Mr. Corrida’s hotel room to the defendant’s house. As I understand, you bought that figurine for Mr. Corrida.”

“I did.”

“Do you have any idea why it was stolen, let alone why it was in the victim’s room for the award ceremony?”

“I only have my suspicions.”

“Would you mind sharing them with me?”

“…You know about Celeste’s missing suicide note, right?”

“Assuming it exists, yes. Supposedly, the victim hid it.”

“According to Juan, he hid the note in the bear… He was going to pose as Matt and read the note to the press.”

“So Mr. Engarde had the bear stolen so he could get rid of the note.”

“That’s what I think,” Ms. Andrews said.

“I see. Thank you. You will have to testify about that when court reconvenes.”

Ms. Andrews nodded, but didn’t respond. The lobby remained silent until Miles and Ms. Andrews were called back into the courtroom.



“Court will now reconvene,” the judge said with a whack of his gavel.

“De Killer, the man who murdered the victim, handed this to his client,” Miles said, holding the bear figurine. “From this, one obvious question arises. ‘Why this particular item?’ I believe the answer to that question will provide us with the name of the real criminal. Now then, the prosecution calls the defendant’s manager, Adrian Andrews, to the stand!” Ms. Andrews took the stand. “Currently, the witness is accused of tampering and obstruction of justice. However, you have been called to the witness stand today to ascertain who exactly is guilty of murder.”

“I understand,” Ms. Andrews said.

“Very good. Miles indicated the bear figurine. “Now, have you ever seen this bear before, Ms. Andrews?”

“Of course I have.”

“You have seen it before?” the judge asked.

“That’s right,” Miles said. “It’s only natural that the witness has.” He turned his attention back to the witness. “Ms. Andrews. Could you please enlighten the court to this bear’s secrets?”

“Alright,” she said. “Actually, this is an elaborate puzzle. If you know the correct order, it can be taken apart one piece at a time. At its center is a small cavity, with just enough room to store a small item. Because of its complexity, if you don’t know the order, you can’t open the bear. You really can’t tell that it’s a small ‘jewelry box’ just by looking at it.”

“So this figurine… it’s a container of sorts, is it…?” the judge asked.

“Yes. Looks can be deceiving, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes. This is superb craftsmanship.” The judge glanced at Wright. “…Oh, yes, I nearly forgot. You may begin your cross-examination, Mr. Wright.”

“It looks like there really was something to that bear after all,” Mia commented.

“A puzzle?” Wright asked Ms. Andrews.

“That’s right,” she replied.

“Hmm…” the judge mumbled, the bear in his hands. “But it looks like an ordinary figurine…”

“So what kind of puzzle is this exactly?” Wright asked.

“If you know the correct order, it can be taken apart one piece at a time,” Ms. Andrews repeated.

“So you can ‘take it apart’? And how would one go about doing that?”

“Well, you first turn its tail to the right and then push it in.”

“…Oh, yes, I see,” the judge said, doing just that.

“After that, the arms and legs are free to move and can be removed.”

“Ooh… This is most interesting…” The judge removed the arms and legs and continued examining the bear, apparently trying to figure out the next step.

Part of me wants to raise an objection to the judge’s behavior, though I’m sure he’d overrule it…

“…Oh, don’t mind me,” the judge said, realizing that he was distracting the court. “Go ahead and carry on.”

“So what do you find after you take the puzzle apart?” Miles asked.

“At its center is a small cavity,” Ms. Andrews explained, “with just enough room to store a small item.”

“And how do you know about this…?” Wright asked.

“I know because I was the one who bought it.”

“Huh!?”

“It was a souvenir from when a friend and I went to Switzerland.”

“Then, this…” the judge cut in, still trying to take apart the bear, “this was a present from you!?”

“That’s right. It was a puzzle in the shape of a bear, so I thought it would be perfect for Juan.”

“Witness, let’s continue with your testimony,” Miles requested.

“Because of its complexity,” Ms. Andrews continued, “if you don’t know the order, you can’t open the bear.”

“So who exactly knew how to solve this puzzle?” Wright asked.

“Only the two of us, Juan and myself. It was a souvenir from Switzerland… So I doubt there are that many people with this same bear in this country.”

“But this looks like it can be easily broken,” the judge said. “Especially if someone wanted to get what was inside.”

I can’t help but worry that he will accidentally demonstrate just how easily it can be broken…

“Well, it’s a toy,” Ms. Andrews explained. “But it can never be the same again once it’s been broken.”

“Who else knows that this bear is actually a small container, or ‘jewelry box’?” Wright asked.

“I never told anyone. And as long as Juan never told anyone either, then only the two of us knew…”

“The two of you, huh… Then of course that means Mr. Engarde didn’t know, right?”

Considering his spying habits, I wouldn’t be surprised if he found out on his own…

Miles did his “evil smile.” “Well, Mr. Wright?” he called. “I think even you have come to realize…” He trailed off, letting Wright finish.

Wright seemed puzzled, however.

“That there is one very important fact we have uncovered, and that is this: This bear is actually a ‘jewelry box’.”

“Hmm…” the judge murmured.

“Now that we have agreed to this point, there is only one logical question that can come next. And that is this: What is inside this box?”

“What’s inside!?”

“That’s right. That’s what we are going to find out next.” Miles pointed at Ms. Andrews. “Witness.”

“Yes?” she replied.

“You are the only one who can open this. Please…”

The judge, with a hint of reluctance, gave the bear to the bailiff, who handed it over to Ms. Andrews. After a few minutes, she reached the box on the inside and opened it.

“I’ve opened it,” she announced, taking out a scrap of paper. “Is this what you wanted?”

“Wh-What is that?” the judge stammered. “It looks like a… note…”

“I don’t think we need to guess at what that is…” Miles said as the bailiff handed him the note. “Do we, Mr. Wright?”

Wright didn’t say anything.

“It’s the suicide note,” Miles continued.

“The suicide note?” the judge asked.

“The suicide note left by Juan Corrida’s former manager, Celeste Inpax. Until now, no one knew of its whereabouts… but just as we suspected, it was hidden. Hidden by the victim, Juan Corrida himself. It seems Celeste Inpax had very beautiful handwriting. And she just as beautifully signed her own name on this document. This is most definitely the note she left right before she committed suicide!”

The gallery started up, though the judge silenced them with a whack of his gavel.

“O-ORDER!” he roared. “Witness! Did you know about this…?”

“…Yes, I did,” Ms. Andrews admitted. “I heard all about it from Juan. When I discovered his body… I looked for the bear. I wanted to destroy the note before it became public. But… I couldn’t find it anywhere.”

“Because it had already been taken by De Killer,” Miles explained.

Mia said something to Wright, though Miles didn’t make it out, nor did he make out Wright’s response.

“Now then,” he continued, “I believe it is only appropriate the contents of this note be made known.”

“I can’t stop you, can I…?” Ms. Andrews sighed, audibly sad. “I went through so much… just to get my hands on it. And I was going to burn it… for her sake.”

“I’m deeply sorry, but I can’t allow you to persuade me to stop.” He handed the note to the bailiff. “Your Honor. If you could please read the contents of the note aloud.”

“Very well…” the judge said as he received the note. “‘I have shown nothing but kindness to others in my life. I never did anything wrong, yet I still suffered. I found love in a man that I thought would always hold me dear. However, I found that he was just using me, and when the time came, he cast me aside as though nothing I had done had managed to touch him. Rather than hate him, though, I chose to move on. In time, I found a better man, one who truly loved me. We were to be married. But then Matt intervened and drove even Juan to leave me. Save for my life, I have nothing that Matt cannot take from me, and I have realized now that there is nothing he will not take from me. I cannot live such a life, one in which everyone and everything I care about is kept from me. With my death, at least, he can no longer hurt me.’ …And that’s all Ms. Inpax had to say.”

The gallery’s reaction was easy to hear; many people were openly voicing their anger toward the defendant.

“There is one thing I would like to say here,” Miles said. “The prosecution has no interest in slandering Mr. Engarde.”

“Then… What…?” the judge asked.

“Our intention, Your Honor, is to establish a motive for murder. Isn’t that correct, witness?”

“Yes…” Ms. Andrews hesitated to reply. “On the night of the murder, Juan was going to make the contents of the note public. After the post-ceremony show… he was going to hold a press conference.”

“My word…” the judge commented.

“Matt Engarde values above all else,” Miles began, “his ‘refreshing like a spring breeze’ image. Which is why he had to stop this note from being made public…” Miles paused to strike his desk. “At any cost!”

The gallery’s outrage toward the defendant was clear, though Miles also heard some of the observers speaking ill of Wright for defending Engarde.

“There is no margin for doubt here,” Miles continued. “Mr. de Killer’s client’s goal was to obtain this suicide note. And the only person who needed this note that badly is the defendant. Let’s not forget that the bear with the note inside was found at the defendant’s house!”

The judge banged his gavel, silencing the gallery. “It seems that we have come to the truth at last,” he said. “The defendant’s motives were entirely selfish. He deserves no sympathy from anyone!”

“Urk…” Wright moaned.

“Why the hesitation, Phoenix?” Mia asked. “Gumshoe hasn’t called yet, so you know what you must do.”

Don’t blame yourself for this, Wright. Engarde alone bears the blame for Maya’s death.

“The gavel is already in the judge’s hand!” Mia snapped at Wright. “Phoenix! Hurry!”

“Objection!” Wright screamed, striking his desk as the judge was preparing to bang his gavel again. “Please wait, Your Honor!”

The gallery started up again. Wright ignored them.

“I think Your Honor believes that Matt Engarde killed in order to obtain this note,” he continued.

“Yes, that is correct,” the judge said.

“But that seems a little strange. In fact, I think there is a contradiction here! This note was hidden by Mr. Corrida until the night of the murder. If that is the case… I say that Matt Engarde could not have known what was written on this note!”

“Oh! I didn’t think of it that way…”

“Exactly. But I did think of it that way, and I thought it was rather strange.” Wright paused to hit his desk. “No one in their right mind would kill for a note without first knowing what it said!”

The gallery started up again, albeit without their earlier anger toward Wright and Engarde. Three whacks of the judge’s gavel were sufficient to silence them again.

“Order! Order! Order!” he yelled. “Y-You make a valid point, Mr. Wright! Mr. Edgeworth! What is your opinion!?”

And I was willing to let the whole spying matter go… Miles took a bow. “I believe a show of appreciation is in order,” he said.

“H-Huh?”

“The defense seems to be in love with wishing more despair upon itself.” Miles paused and took out a spy camera and a bug sweeper. “I would like to direct the court’s attention to this.”

“What is that…?”

“It is a very small video camera, Your Honor. This type of camera is commonly used as a means of spying.”

“S-Spying…?”

Wright had a confused look on his face behind all the sweat running down it.

“Matt Engarde and the victim both thought of the other as their biggest rival,” Miles stated. “They even went so far as to use this type of item to find each other’s weaknesses!”

“And…?” the judge asked.

Miles hit his desk. “The victim, Juan Corrida, was being spied on! His personal life was being watched by none other than Matt Engarde!”

The gallery started up yet again, and the judge yet again banged his gavel to silence them.

“Order!” he shouted. “Oooooorder!! Ahem!” He glared at Wright. “Mr. Wright!”

“Y-Yes, Your Honor?” Wright stammered.

“You… Don’t tell me you knew about your client’s spying activities!?”

“Well… sort of…”

“‘Sort of’ is not an acceptable answer, Mr. Wright!”

“I see you are confused, Mr. Wright,” Miles cut in, stating the obvious. “You’re probably thinking, ‘But I have the camera that was in the stuffed bear’s eye…’ But this camera that I have is not that same one. Last night, I searched the victim’s house on a hunch…” He held out the bug sweeper. “Using this… By the way, Mr. Wright. The defendant’s fingerprints were found on this camera.”

“Matt Engarde’s fingerprints were on there!?” the judge yelped.

Mia said something to Wright, who didn’t respond.

“I think this is the end,” Miles said. “It’s fairly obvious that Mr. Engarde learned of the suicide note through this. He was watching the victim all along.”

Mia and Wright said several things back and forth, though Miles couldn’t make out what they were saying over the gallery’s complaints.

“Alright, I think this time we finally understand everything,” the judge said with a whack of his gavel. He looked to Wright. “Well, Mr. Wright? You don’t have any further objections, do you?”

Wright pounded his desk. “…I have an objection, Your Honor,” he said weakly.

Miles smirked. “Hmph,” he scoffed. “That was about the weakest objection I’ve every heard, Mr. Wright.”

“Objection!” Wright yelled, his voice echoing. “Your Honor! The defense has no intentions of letting this go so easily!”

When do you?

“You are beginning to sound desperate…” the judge commented.

In other news, the world is round.

“That’s just your imagination, Your Honor!” Wright insisted. He looked at Miles. “Mr. Edgeworth. This is not like you at all.”

What? What are you blathering about?

“In your eagerness to prove your point,” Wright continued, his confidence returning, “you’ve forgotten one very important thing.”

“Hey, isn’t that what I just said?” Mia commented to Wright.

“So, you’re telling me that I forgot something?” Miles confirmed.

“You’re so close, Mr. Edgeworth…” Wright said. “But there’s something you should really examine about this piece of evidence!” Wright indicated Ms. Inpax’s suicide note.

“That is… Ms. Inpax’s suicide note, right?” the judge asked.

“Hmm… Who knows?”

Of course…

“I mean, sure, this ‘suicide note’ was found inside this bear,” Wright continued. “But this bear was in my possession until a few moments ago. Which means…” He paused to pound on his desk. “The handwriting on this ‘suicide note’ has yet to be analyzed!”

“Oh…” the judge muttered.

Damn it!

“So!” Wright barked. “As to whether this pivotal piece of evidence was really written by Ms. Inpax or not…” He hit his desk again. “Has yet to be even remotely confirmed!”

The gallery started up, though the judge quieted them down with a few whacks of his gavel.

“M-Mr. Wright!” the judge stammered. “You can’t seriously be suggesting…”

“Mr. Wright!” Ms. Andrews interrupted. “You… Are you saying this suicide note is a fake!?”

How the hell could you know that, Wright!?

“Ms. Andrews…” Wright called. “You were the one who tried to pin this murder on Mr. Engarde. Who’s to say you didn’t create a fake ‘suicide note’ and put it into this bear!?”

“H-How dare you!?”

“Objection!” Miles shouted, striking his desk. “Your Honor. The defense is indiscriminately accusing the witness again! There is no evidence linking the witness to the suicide note whatsoever!”

“Objection!” Wright barked back, also hitting his desk. “But if this is a fake, then the witness is the only person who could have made it!”

“What!?”

“Recall the witness’ testimony concerning this figurine! The only person other than the victim who could solve the puzzle is the witness herself!”

“Ahh!” Ms. Andrews yelped.

“Ms. Andrews!” Wright shouted, hitting his desk yet again. “You wrote this note, didn’t you? You wrote it so you could use it to frame Matt Engarde!”

“I… I did no such thing!”

“Objection!” Miles yelled. “Wright! If you’re going to pronounce this suicide note a fake…” He paused to hit his desk. “Then show this court some evidence to support your theory!”

“Objection!” Wright shouted back. “Mr. Edgeworth! You were the one who presented this scrap of paper as evidence!” He struck his desk. “That means the burden of proof lies with you, the prosecution!”

“Uuugn!”

“That’s enough!” the judge cut in, banging his gavel. “Mr. Edgeworth. Can you confirm the handwriting on this suicide note…?”

“It is as the defense has stated!” Miles growled, slouching over his desk. “The handwriting has yet to be analyzed!”

“If that’s the case… It seems that yet again we have reached a point where a verdict is impossible.”

“Imposs… That’s impossible!”

The gallery started murmuring.

“I didn’t want to have to do this, but I don’t have a choice,” the judge said, shaking his head. “I request that both the prosecution and defense further investigate…”

The gallery was in an uproar. Anything the judge had left to say was cut off by their complaints. Regular cries of “Guilty!” rang out.

An electronic version of the Steel Samurai theme suddenly started playing loudly.

“Wh-What is that sound!?” the judge roared over the gallery’s veritable chant of “Guilty.”

Wright picked up his cell phone.

Are you seriously reduced to using a cell phone call to draw out the trial!?

“Hello!?” Wright almost screamed into his phone. “Gumshoe!?”

Oh.

“Where’s Maya!?” Wright demanded. “What happened to De Killer!?” Gumshoe’s response was inaudible. “WHAT!?” “A-Anyway, what’s going on!?”

Mia muttered something, implying she could hear what Gumshoe was saying.

“But…” Wright whimpered. After a moment, he held up the phone. “Do you hear that!” he said after bringing the phone back down to his ear. “They’re calling for his head!” There was a long pause. Miles thought he heard Gumshoe say something. “Wh-What is it!?” “I-I can’t do that!”

The judge banged his gavel. “Mr. Wright!” he shouted. “Would you please get a hold of yourself!?”

“Y-Yes, Your Honor,” Wright said, putting the phone down.

“I am about to end today’s proceedings. You may take your phone calls after…”

“Hold on, Your Honor!” Wright shouted, hitting his desk. He threw the phone to Miles. “Edgeworth! Catch! Take that!”

“Mr. Edgeworth!?” Gumshoe cried as Miles caught the phone.

There’s only so far you can push me…

“Please!” Gumshoe begged. “You’ve got to buy us some more time!”

“Court is in session,” Miles said after a pause, ending the call. He looked to the judge. “I’m sorry, Your Honor. You were saying?”

“Mr. Wright!” the judge snapped. “This is a court of law!”

“I’m sorry, Your Honor!” Wright squealed. “But…!”

The judge cut him off with a whack of his gavel. “I am reluctant to do this, however… It appears that I have no choice but to suspend proceedings until tomorrow!”

Wright collapsed.

Maya probably won’t survive another day…

“Court is now adjourned for the day!” the judge announced as the gallery started up again.

“Objection!” Miles shouted. “Please wait, Your Honor.”

“Wh-What is it, Mr. Edgeworth?”

“I humbly request another 30 minutes of Your Honor’s time.”

“For what purpose?”

“We can perform the necessary tests on this piece of evidence in that time!”

“Hmm… But can you really obtain your results in 30 minutes?”

“I believe we can, Your Honor.”

“But wouldn’t it be better if we adjourned for today and then reconvened tomorrow…?”

“Thirty minutes,” Miles said sternly, hitting his desk. “Please, Your Honor. That’s all I am asking for.”

“Please!” Wright pleaded, pounding on his own desk. “Your Honor!”

“…Very well,” the judge said. He banged his gavel. “At the prosecution’s request, this court will now take a 30 minute recess. But be advised that I will not allow another recess today. The court will now take its final recess of the day!” He banged his gavel again.



Miles escorted Ms. Andrews back to the prosecution lobby without a word, then walked quickly to the defendant lobby.

“Wright!” he called as he burst in. “Well!? What’s going on with Maya’s situation!?”

“De Killer…” Wright managed to say. “It looks like he got away again. Thirty minutes…? We can’t find her in that time…”

“Unnngh…”

I had a feeling it would end this way, but how should I break it to—

Miles’s train of thought was derailed by Wright’s phone ringing. The screen displayed Gumshoe’s number.

I forgot I even had the damned thing…

“Report!” Miles ordered as he answered the phone. Wright hovered close to Miles so he could hear what Gumshoe had to say.

“Ah!” Gumshoe yelped. “I-Is that Mr. Edgeworth1?”

“We don’t have time! Just spit it out!”

“R-Right! It looks like we just missed them, sir. But De Killer left a few things behind by accident in his rush to get away.”

“A few things…?”

“Can we use any of them as evidence?” Wright asked.

“Ho ho ho,” Gumshoe chuckled. “I thought you’d ask, pal! I’ve got the things he left with me right now and I’m on my way over!”

“Really!?”

“That’s odd,” Miles commented. “Any items like that are usually sent to the crime lab first…”

“We don’t have time to wait for those guys, sir!” Gumshoe snapped. “When those guys weren’t looking, I swiped the stuff and ran!”

“What!?”

“Well… I’m not a detective anymore, so I had to… I’m really sorry, sir, but I’ve got to put the law on hold for now! With my hunk of junk car, I’d say I’ll be there in about 20 minutes, sir! Don’t worry! I’ll be there! Wait for me!”

“A-Alright… Just get there in one piece.”

“I’m on a mission and no one can stop me now, sir! No one! I’m pulling out all the stops and running every red light!”

Gumshoe, if these things help, I’ll make sure to clear up any problems the department will have with what you’re doing…

A loud crash resounded over the phone.

“Hey!” Miles barked. “What’s wrong!? Detective Gumshoe! Answer me!”

“…No one can stop…” Gumshoe said over loud static. “I’m…”

The phone cut off, beeping.

“Wh-What happened?” Wright asked.

“It sounded like he had an accident,” Miles said. “I’m guessing his cell phone broke as well.”

“Wh-What was he thinking?? We’ve got to hurry and call for help!”

“But we have no idea where he is. His cell phone is broken, and he wasn’t driving a patrol car, so no radio either. Also… If we don’t get to those items before they do, the police will take possession of them.”

“No! We can’t let that happen!”

“Well, if there is a way we can find out where he is, then we stand a chance…”

But I don’t see how we could reach him…

“That’s right!” Wright recalled. “There is a way!”

“What!?” Miles grunted. “How!?”

“I’m sure we can find out where Detective Gumshoe is through this…!” He took out Franziska’s photo.

I’ll choose not to ask why you have a picture of her…

“Why are you bringing up Franziska at a time like…” Wait… wasn’t she tracking him? “Oh, I see! I’ll try to get in contact with her. The chances are slim, but she’s all we have…”

“Edgeworth…” Wright muttered.

“What is it?”

“I don’t have any right to judge anyone ever again…”

Now is not the time for this, Wright.

“I know my client is guilty,” he continued. “But what I’m doing now… I’m pinning the guilt onto someone totally innocent, and using the evidence to do so…”

You can curse yourself after the verdict is read, Wright. You can curse me, too, if you want.

“It might be my turn to say, ‘Defense Attorney Phoenix Wright chooses death’…” he said.

“Wright,” Miles snapped. “It doesn’t suit you to cry useless tears. Whether you did your job well or not… That can only be seen after the verdict has been decided.”

“The verdict…”

“Is Prosecutor Edgeworth here!?” the bailiff called.

“Yes, bailiff?” Miles replied.

“There’s a phone call for you, sir. They said it was extremely urgent.”

“They’re probably finished with the handwriting analysis,” Miles explained to Wright. “I have to go take this call. In the mean time, think hard about what it is you must do.”

Miles left and returned to the prosecution lobby. The telephone receiver was sitting off the hook on the couch.

“This is Edgeworth,” Miles said, picking the receiver up.

“Mr. Edgeworth, we have the results from the handwriting analysis,” a voice on the other end said.

“And?”

“The handwriting appears to be that of the victim, Mr. Juan Corrida.”

“WHAT!?” Miles slumped onto the couch.

“A-A more detailed analysis has yet to be carried out, but we are certain that this note was not written by Ms. Inpax.”

“I see… What about Ms. Andrews?”

“What about her, sir?”

“Is there any possibility that she wrote the suicide note?”

“No, sir. The note does not resemble her handwriting in the slightest.”

“Very well,” Miles said. “Please have the note returned to court. Considering the circumstances, a more detailed analysis will not be necessary.”

“Yes, sir.”

Miles hung up, then took out his cell phone and called Franziska.

“What do you want?” Franziska demanded as she answered the phone.

“There are some important pieces of evidence that Gumshoe just recovered,” Miles said.

“Are you just calling to gloat, Miles Edgeworth!?”

“Please let me finish. Gumshoe was on his way to the courthouse when he got in an accident. We have no way to find him… and if we can’t get the evidence here quickly, the trial will end prematurely.”

“And why are you telling me this?”

“Because you have a way to find him. We need your help, Franziska. You’re the only person who can deliver that evidence now.”

“You take my case from me, and now you want me to deliver evidence for you?”

“This evidence may well be what gets Engarde convicted in the end. If he is found guilty, it will ultimately be thanks to you.”

“He would have been convicted sooner had I prosecuted,” Franziska spat.

So much for the flattery approach…

“Would you have a scheming killer like Engarde go free just because you were not the one to prosecute him? As things stand, Adrian Andrews will probably be convicted in his stead if this evidence is not delivered. This isn’t just about you or me, Franziska. As prosecutors, it’s our duty to make sure the guilty are convicted and justice is served. However you think you may have insulted your profession by being defeated in court, know that it would be a far greater insult to stand by and do nothing when you are the only person who can keep an innocent person from being convicted. If Ms. Andrews is convicted, her blood will be on the hands of many people, you among them. Would you allow this to happen just to satisfy a grudge against me and Wright?”

Franziska didn’t respond for a while.

“Franziska!” Miles called.

“I’ll do it,” she replied. “Don’t forget what I’m doing for you.”

“I won’t. And don’t think it’s for myself that I’m asking you to do this.”

“Don’t let a verdict be read until after I’ve arrived.” Franziska hung up.

Thank God… With luck, the evidence won’t be necessary, but knowing the way things work out when Wright is involved…

“Mr. Edgeworth!” a patrolman called. He was holding a two-way radio. “Someone arrived a moment ago and asked for this to be delivered to you. They said it relates to the case.”

“How so?” Miles asked.

“They said to turn it on…”

“Well, what are you waiting for? You’re the one holding it.”

The patrolman turned on the radio after setting it down. For a moment, there was no response.

“Is this the prosecutor in Mr. Matt Engarde’s trial?” a voice asked over the radio.

“Yes,” Miles replied. “What is this about? Who are you?”

“Please excuse me for not remembering my manners, but I am not in a position to disclose my proper name. You may call me Shelly de Killer.”

“De Killer!?” Miles motioned for the patrolman to leave.

“You know of me, yes, Mr. Prosecutor?”

“Are you calling to taunt me!?”

“I am simply offering my assistance in bringing this trial to an end. …Or has it already ended?”

“No verdict has been given yet.”

“Then allow me to rectify that problem. My client, you see, has done something that I cannot tolerate.”

“Explain. I have difficulty believing there is much a professional murderer would consider below him.”

“I have my honor, Mr. Prosecutor. Though I cannot expect a man of pure law and good such as yourself to understand, there are certain things my clients are expected to do in exchange for my services. My client has overstepped his boundaries and attempted to implicate someone else in the murder of Juan Corrida.”

“Are you going to tell me that the earth orbits the sun next? What’s your point?”

“My point is that I no longer feel obligated to protect my client,” de Killer explained. “As such, I am willing to testify to the court as to his identity—provided this radio’s signal is not traced. I do not believe I have to explain to you what kind of a man Mr. Engarde is.”

“You need not. However, there is something that will need to be established if you are to testify: that you are, in fact, Shelly de Killer.”

“Please excuse me for a moment.”

What could that be about?

“My apologies for the wait,” de Killer said. “I recognize your voice, Mr. Prosecutor. You were there when I called Mr. Wright last night.”

“What of it?” Miles asked.

“You don’t need to feign ignorance, Mr. Prosecutor. I’m sure Mr. Wright has told you that I have a hostage. You have certainly pressed your luck with me. Imagine what could have happened…”

“Ugh…” Maya groaned over the radio.

“Taunt me some other time, de Killer,” Miles spat. “I accept that you are who you claim to be.”

“Please contact me again when I am needed,” de Killer said. The signal stopped.

I suppose I should be thankful that Maya will be safe… After all, if de Killer is willing to turn on his client, he has nothing to lose from Engarde being convicted. Still… It would probably be better if this could end without his help. Not to mention I haven’t had a chance to tell Wright that Maya’s—

“Mr. Edgeworth!” the bailiff called. “You’re needed in court!”

I guess Wright will have to find out the hard way… This is not going to be pleasant…



“Court will now reconvene,” the judge said with a whack of his gavel. “I assume both sides are ready?”

“Y-Yes, Your Honor…” Wright stuttered, visibly worried about how things were going to turn out.

“Y-Yes, Your Honor…” Miles said through gritted teeth, furious at the thought of having to rely on an assassin to get Engarde convicted.

“…I can understand the defense acting like this,” the judge commented, “however, why do you also seem distraught, Mr. Edgeworth!?”

“I… that is…” Calm down. We’re finally at the end. Miles stood up straight and gradually exhaled through his nose. “It’s nothing, Your Honor.”

Miles thought he heard Mia say something.

“Now then, Mr. Edgeworth,” the judge said. “If you could please tell the court the results of the handwriting analysis on Ms. Inpax’s suicide note…”

“Y… Yes, Your Honor,” Miles replied. “Unfortunately… We have discovered that this suicide note is a forgery.”

“What!?” Wright snapped.

“What do you mean, Mr. Edgeworth!?” the judge demanded.

“This… This note was not written by Ms. Inpax herself!” Miles stated, striking his desk in annoyance. “It is a fake!”

The gallery began murmuring again, though the judge was quick to respond with three whacks of his gavel.

“Order! Order! Order!” he shouted. “Mr. Edgeworth! Would you care to explain what is going on!? If this was not written by Ms. Inpax, then who wrote it!?”

“We would need more time to do a more detailed analysis,” Miles answered, “however… It appears that the handwriting matches that of the victim, Mr. Juan Corrida.”

“Mr. C-Corrida…?” Wright stammered. Mia said something, though Miles didn’t bother with it.

“However!” Miles continued, striking his desk for emphasis. “Your Honor. Even though this suicide note is indeed a fake, Mr. Engarde could not have known that, and so that facts remain unchanged!” Urk… “fact remains”, not “facts remain”… “Acting under the assumption that it was real, he had plotted to possess it!”

“Hmm… That does sound very plausible,” the judge agreed.

It wasn’t as I had hoped, but it appears this is sufficient to put an end to this accursed trial…

“Hmm… Actually,” the judge said, “there is something I would like to ask. Mr. Edgeworth. You had stated something earlier to the effect of the defendant had spied on Mr. Corrida’s private life…”

Damn it! How could I have not realized that!?

“I believe this would mean that he would have known about the note as well…?” the judge continued.

“Yes, and so naturally…” Wright added, pausing to pound on his desk, “This means Mr. Engarde would have known that the note was a fake!”

“Uungh!” Miles grunted.

The gallery started up, though the judge banged his gavel and quieted them down.

“Order! Order!” he yelled. He then glared daggers at Wright. “See here, Mr. Wright!”

“…Um, yes Your Honor?” Wright squeaked, sweating.

“I was the one who thought of the spying thing! Jumping in and stealing my thunder like that is simply… I can’t even describe it!”

“Ah, yes… Sorry…”

“I could’ve even bragged about embarrassing Mr. Edgeworth to my grandchild had you not… For that, I assign you a penalty, Mr. Wright!”

“Whaaaaa!?”

Of all the things to assign a penalty for…

“So then,” the judge said with a whack of his gavel, “the defendant knew this suicide note was a fake. And if that’s true, then the situation has suddenly changed in a very dramatic way.”

“Exactly, Your Honor!” Wright agreed. “The prosecution’s theory as to what Mr. Engarde’s motive for murder was… It has suddenly disappeared into thin air!”

“But Your Honor!” Miles countered. “It’s not as if Mr. Engarde monitored Mr. Corrida 24 hours a day!” He struck his desk. “Perhaps the victim wrote that note in a place Mr. Engarde didn’t know of!”

“Well, right back at you, Mr. Edgeworth! Why don’t you show us some proof that the victim made the forgery at an unknown place!?”

“Gnnngh!”

The gallery again started up. The judge banged his gavel.

“Order! Order! Order!” he shouted before turning to Miles. “…Mr. Edgeworth. It looks like this time, it is you who has dug his own grave.”

“Unnnngh…” Miles growled. “As I figured…”

“Huh? …As you figured…?”

“As I figured… It came down to this after all…”

“Mr. Edgeworth, you are not making any sense…”

“When I heard the results of the handwriting analysis, I thought this might happen. The question is… ‘What next?’”

“What next…??” Wright echoed.

“If the prosecution can’t prove Mr. Engarde’s motive through the evidence, then we must prove it through another angle.”

“Well, I agree with you there…” the judge said.

“Your Honor. The prosecution… would like to call a witness to the stand at this time…”

“Oh. Well, that’s fine.”

“However… this witness… This witness is a little… unusual…”

I can’t believe I have to do this…

“Unusual?” the judge asked. “Well, what sort of witness is this person, Mr. Edgeworth?”

“This witness is one who is perfectly fit to answer once and for all the question of, ‘Who was it that hired Shelly de Killer to commit murder?’” Miles explained.

“That’s impossible!!” Wright yelped. “Who in the…!? No such person exists who can answer that question with such certainty!”

“Y-Yes!” the judge stammered. “Mr. Edgeworth! Who is this witness!?”

“It is…” Miles stuttered. “It’s… um…”

“Yes!? Go on! Who is it!?”

Miles struck his desk. “The man himself… Mr. Shelly de Killer.”

“Oh, Mr. de Killer. … W-W-Waaaaait!! Shelly de Killer!?” The gallery started up, though the judge ignored them for once. “Um, you mean… The killer? Err… I mean the assassin?”

“Yes… Your Honor.”

“He’s coming here? To the witness stand…?”

“Well, yes, in a manner of speaking… I recognize that this is a very unusual circumstance, so I ask for your permission.”

“Hmm… Well, Mr. Wright?” the judge asked, turning to Wright.

“Y-Yes?” he replied.

“Is this alright with you?”

“The defense has no objections, Your Honor.”

“I wonder if it really is alright to do this…?”

Miles struck his desk. “Very well then,” he said. “The prosecution calls our witness to the stand!”

The bailiff took the radio to the stand, turned it on, and set it down on the edge.

“Now then, witness,” Miles said, not entirely sure if the radio would pick up his voice at such a distance. “…Um, your name… and your, uh… occupation, please.”

“Very good, sir,” de Killer replied over the radio. “My name is Shelly de Killer, and I am a professional assassin.”

“I… I say!!” the judge barked. “Wh-What is going on here!?”

“Your Honor?” Miles asked.

“How can you remain so calm? And what is the meaning of this two-way radio…?”

“Actually, Your Honor, it was delivered to me just now… And it came with a condition. As long as we do not trace its source, Mr. de Killer will testify to the court.”

“Oh no, this will not do. I cannot allow this in my court. First of all, we can’t even be sure this is really Mr. de Killer himself!”

“Witness,” Miles said to de Killer. “Please present some sort of proof that you are in fact Shelly de Killer.”

“I understand,” de Killer answered. “Please wait a second.”

“I’m… sooo… hungry…” Maya moaned over the radio.

“M-M-Maya!” Wright stammered.

“Maya!” Mia cried.

“A… A voice!” the judge exclaimed. “Mr. Wright! Can you confirm anything from this!?”

Wright pounded on his desk. “The defense has no objections to this person!” he shouted, pointing at the radio. “We are satisfied that this man is indeed Shelly de Killer!”

“It looks like we have run into yet another unexpected turn of events…” He paused to bang his gavel. “Well, it doesn’t seem like we have too many choices under these circumstances, so…”

“…Now then, witness,” Miles called. “There is one thing I would like to confirm before we speak of anything else.”

“And what would that be?” de killer asked.

“At the request of a client, you killed Mr. Juan Corrida. Is this correct?”

“… It is as you say. I did indeed kill Mr. Corrida.”

“Now that we have answered that, let’s move on to the name of your client!”

“…Very well.”

And make sure you give Maya something to eat when this is over!

“This is all just a bad dream…” the judge said to himself. “Yes, that’s it, a bad dream…”

How I wish it was…

“There is something I must first state,” de Killer testified. “To an assassin, nothing is more important than the trust between a client and himself. And that is the reason I am here today on this witness stand. It is my wish that you grasp this concept before I give the name of my client.”

“Hmm, Mr. de Killer seems to be a very clever man,” the judge commented. “I’d almost say he seems to be mocking us.”

Miles did his “evil smile.” “While he may appear to be our enemy, Your Honor, Mr. de Killer is only stating the truth. He is no hypocrite. He has always stood by this one belief.” Though I think anyone would prefer a hypocrite to a murderer…

“You mean about this ‘trust between his clients and himself’ thing? Hmm, it seems to be a level of trust beyond what people like me can comprehend.” He looked at Wright. “…Well, Mr. Wright? Are you ready to cross-examine the witness?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Wright said. Mia said what must have been some words of encouragement, though Miles didn’t make them out. “The trust between you and your client…?” Wright repeated to de Killer.

“I provide my services in a fast and efficient manner,” de Killer said. “In exchange, I trust that my clients are discreet about me and my identity. If too many people knew my face, it would be quite troublesome.”

“And that is why you’re testifying in this manner?” the judge asked.

“This is the first time one of my clients has ever been accused of murder. I must preserve the de Killer name so my clients can trust me.”

“But couldn’t someone stab you in the back and break your trust?” Wright asked.

“It has never happened before, but if it ever did…”

“Y-Yes…?”

“That person wouldn’t be my client for very long. They would certainly…”

“Th-That’s enough!” the judge interrupted. “Please, no more!”

“Very well. It was only a hypothetical anyway.”

“That seems a little strange to me…” Wright said. “I mean, you’re about to tell us the name of your client. I would think that this would be very bad for them.”

“It doesn’t matter to me,” de Killer replied. “This client has already broken the rules and acted outside of their prescribed role.”

“Their role…?” the judge asked.

“This person tried to implicate another of the crime in order to save themselves. And this is a trespass that cannot be forgiven.”

“You… Who gave you the right to be so high and mighty…!?”

“To the gentleman who spoke just now… Excuse me, but would you care to die?”

“Ah, no! No! I, uh, didn’t say anything!”

“The trust between you and your client…?” Wright repeated.

“I provide my services in a fast and efficient manner,” de Killer explained again. “In exchange, I trust that my clients are discreet about me and my identity. These are the roles and duties an assassin and his client are to carry out.”

“I’m sorry, but I was wondering about something you just said. You said that your client had already ‘broken the rules’…”

“A person who frames another is the worst kind of human.”

“And that’s why you feel you can betray this person?”

“I have no trust relation with a client who can’t understand their assigned role. Now then, everyone. Do you think you can understand my logic? If you can’t then I’m afraid we can’t proceed…”

“Everyone understands your point, I think. Really.”

“In that case… I believe I am prepared to disclose the information you seek.”

“You have made it crystal clear that you value trust over all else,” Miles said. “I believe we are ready.”

“…Excellent,” de Killer said. “Now then, I do believe it’s about time I revealed the name of my client, don’t you agree?”

Wright pounded on his desk, but said nothing.

“What is it?” the judge asked.

Wright was still silent, clearly hesitant. Don’t worry, Wright. Maya is safe.

“If you can’t ask it, Mr. Wright, then I will,” Miles said. He pointed at the radio. “Witness!” He paused to strike his desk. “What is the name of your client who requested the murder of Mr. Juan Corrida!?”

“That person’s name is…” De Killer paused. “…Adrian Andrews…”

“Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat!?!?” Miles, Wright, and the judge screamed simultaneously.

“Objection!” Miles roared. “W-Witness!!” He struck his desk again. “That’s not who you told me it was earlier!”

“Pray tell, what are you talking about, Mr. Prosecutor? I should think I know my own client, and it is Adrian Andrews.”

“Whaaaaaaaat!?!?” You bastard! I’ve met politicians who are more honest than you are! “Th-This can’t be! On the phone earlier…” You just… Argh! No word in any language I know can describe how despicable you are! “Objection!” Miles barked. “This… This is outrageous! I was deceived!” He pounded on his desk. “This witness is telling a very serious lie!”

“B-But you were the one who summoned this witness!” the judge stammered.

“Grk! Grr… Y-You… Shelly de Killer…!”

“My testimony is the truth,” de Killer said calmly over the gallery’s murmurs. “The defendant at the moment is Matt Engarde, am I correct? All I wish to do is help procure his acquittal.”

“H… Hmm…” the judge grumbled. He paused to bang his gavel. “The prosecution has failed to provide a motive and has instead, provided this suicide note, which is a forgery created by the victim. Furthermore, there is a possibility the defendant himself knew it was a fake. But most definitive of all, we have heard from the assassin himself; the name of his client. Mr. de Killer’s client who requested the murder was not the defendant at all!”

“…No…” Miles gasped.

“With all this evidence, it is obvious to me that this means that Mr. Matt Engarde… Is innocent!”

“I seem to have caused you all a bit of confusion,” de Killer said. “Please, continue your discussion, and call me when you have reached a verdict.”

“Bailiff!” the judge called with a whack of his gavel. “Please bring Ms. Adrian Andrews in immediately!”

“What now?” Mia asked Wright. “With the way this is going, Engarde will be found innocent. This may be our last chance… to save Maya…”

Grr… And if de Killer was plotting to implicate Ms. Andrews, that means he will still kill Maya if Engarde is convicted…

“Yeah… But…” Wright stammered. “But Edgeworth is right. De Killer is lying! And Engarde… my client… I know he’s guilty!”

“Who would’ve believed that the prosecution’s own witness would absolve the defendant!?” the judge exclaimed with another whack of his gavel.

“Your Honor!” Miles barked, striking his desk. “The prosecution requests permission to further question the witness! Shelly de Killer is certainly lying under oath!”

“Hmm…”

“It wasn’t me!” Ms. Andrews cried as the bailiff brought her in. “Listen! Everyone! Please! That testimony just now… It was all one big lie!”

“Ms. Andrews…” Wright sighed.

“The suicide note may have been a fake. But! That man… Matt… He’s the reason Celeste died! And Juan’s death… It was all because he got pulled into Matt’s twisted world! That testimony just now… You have to believe me… It was a horrible, horrible lie…”

I know.

“But… Mr. de killer himself has testified…” the judge countered. “He has named you as his client.”

“No!” Ms. Andrews cried. “That’s not true!”

“Also, there is quite a bit of evidence that points to you. The knife and button, donning the Nickel Samurai’s costume…”

“But that’s… That’s…”

“You even have a motive. We know that Ms. Celeste Inpax was a large part of your life. You wanted to follow her… And you wanted revenge against the two who hurt her. I would say you have plenty of reasons to want them both dead.”

“I… No…” She glared at Wright. “Mr. Wright! You… You know the truth! Tell them! Tell them the real story… Who the real killer is… Tell them! Please… Help me…”

When she was testifying last year… trying desperately to protect Ema… This must have been how Lana felt on the inside… The only difference is that she was begging herself to say these things…

“Mr. Wright,” the judge said with a whack of his gavel.

“Yes, Your Honor?” Wright replied.

“I believe we have reached the end of this trial. Therefore, I ask the defense for any final words or opinions.”

“Phoenix…” Mia sighed.

“I can’t do it, Mia…” Wright said. “I can’t accept a not guilty.”

“You are a lawyer.”

“I know. But… But Matt Engarde is a killer; a murderer! I can’t… I can’t let him get away with this. I can’t let someone else take the fall. If I let Ms. Andrews be convicted, then I am no better than Engarde. And even though I don’t want to admit it, I have to face the fact that it is because of Edgeworth that I now know the real truth. He could’ve gotten Engarde convicted so many times over, but he never took a single one of those chances. If I take this verdict right now… I’d be betraying his trust.” He paused.

So you finally see it, Wright. You finally understand…

“Mr. Wright,” the judge called again, banging his gavel for emphasis. “Your opinion, please.”

“The defense requests that we be allowed to further question Mr. de Killer,” Wright said.

“A-Am I hearing you correctly, Mr. Wright!?”

“Wright…” Miles managed to say.

“But… But…” the judge stammered. “That witness has cleared your client through his testimony! Your job here is done!”

“I’m not done yet,” Wright said. “To see through this witness’ lies and find the truth… THAT is my job, Your Honor!”

Perhaps my prediction was wrong. It appears I am going to enjoy this…

“Very well,” the judge said with another whack of his gavel. “The trial will continue. Mr. Edgeworth. Please re-establish connection with Mr. de Killer.”

“Right away, Your Honor!” Miles replied, taking a bow. The bailiff ran off to get the radio, coming back with it rather quickly and placing it on the stand.

“…Has a verdict been reached?” de Killer asked.

“Before that, we would like to talk with you a little more,” Miles said.

“About? All you needed from me was the name of my client. What else could you need me for?”

“Well… Actually, we would like to hear everything you know about this case. That is how things are… usually done.”

“But… What shall we have him testify about now?” the judge asked.

“Mr. de Killer,” Miles continued. “If you don’t mind, please testify about your client in more detail.”

“You legal people and your procedures,” de Killer complained. “Is it any wonder no one likes to go to court?”

I can’t say I enjoy hearing about murders, but this kind of thing has to be done… lest the United States have its own Timothy Evans.

“As I have already stated quite a few times,” de Killer testified, “Adrian Andrews is my client. However. One thing I simply cannot overlook is tampering with the scene of the crime. My client did it to frame another for the crime. While pretending to be the first person to discover the body and enter the scene, Adrian Andrews already knew from the very beginning that Juan Corrida was dead! But even more appalling is the creation and planting of the ‘knife’ and ‘button’. That act is what I was referring to when I said my client had ‘broken the rules’.”

“Hmm…” the judge mumbled. “This is a most unexpected turn of events… For the… um, fifth time now…? However, this time, everything has finally been revealed.”

“Objection!” Miles barked, striking his desk. “Just a second, Your Honor!”

“Yes, Mr. Edgeworth?”

“We still have the cross-examination to do…”

“But you don’t need to question testimony like this…” He turned to Wright. “Do you, Mr. Wright?”

“… Your Honor, the defense will question the witness,” Wright said.

“Huh!? Why!? What this witness has said is nothing but beneficial to the defense’s case! If you scrutinize his testimony, then…” He paused, shaking his head. “I don’t understand what’s going on anymore…”

There was an uneasy silence over the courtroom as Wright looked over the testimony.

“Thank you so much for taking the time to testify, Mr. de Killer,” he finally said, his tone a confident one.

“What is the meaning of that attitude?” de Killer asked.

“When Adrian Andrews entered the victim’s room,” Wright continued, pausing to strike his desk, “your ‘client’ had no idea that Juan Corrida had been murdered!”

“But how…” the judge gasped. “How do you know that!?”

“From this wine glass, Your Honor,” Wright replied, indicating the glass Ms. Andrews had left at the crime scene.

“The glass…”

“Mr. de Killer’s supposed client thought Mr. Corrida had only fainted. Which is why this glass of tomato juice was poured for the victim!”

“Hmm… But isn’t that just a part of Adrian Andrews’ calculated plan?”

“That is not possible, Your Honor. this glass bears the fingerprints of that person. Had this been planned, they would never have left their fingerprints behind!”

“I see your point…” the judge said, turning to Miles. “Mr. Edgeworth!? What is your opinion?”

“Strangely enough… I had the same exact thought just now,” Miles said. He hit his desk. “Witness! How do you explain this strange phenomenon!?”

“I-Isn’t it a waste of time to ask about such a minor detail?” de Killer asked. “It’s not a very important point anyway, correct…?”

Miles did his “evil smile.” “I’m afraid you are mistaken. If Adrian Andrews really is your client, as you claim… Then your client should have had knowledge of Mr. Corrida’s death. If not…” He paused to strike his desk. “Then that can only mean that Adrian Andrews was never your client at all!”

The gallery started up, though they quieted down on their own.

“How strange…” de Killer said after a pause.

“Yes?” the judge asked.

“Why is it that the attorney has yet to raise an objection at this absurd situation…?”

Mia whispered something to Wright, who said something back.

“Objection!” Wright shouted. “Mr. Edgeworth! I’m surprised! You know you can’t say things like that without any evidence.”

“Ah… Sorry,” Miles said. I’ll let it go for now, if only to buy time for Franziska to arrive…

“Th-That sounded like an awfully weak ‘Objection!’ to me…” the judge commented.

“Anyway!” Miles cut in. “I am positive there was a contradiction in that testimony. The prosecution requests further testimony concerning when the request was taken!”

“Very well,” de Killer said after a pause.

Wright, you had best be careful what you ask. If de Killer realizes our plan, Maya is doomed.

“This request came to me… oh, about a week ago,” de Killer said. “It was a request for my services on the night of the awards ceremony. We met at a certain bar to discuss and finalize a few matters. That is what occurred. I trust my memory, and I believe I have made no mistakes.”

“Hmm… So you physically met your client, huh?” the judge confirmed.

“That is correct. Meeting one’s client is the first step to building trust, in my opinion.”

“I see…” He looked at Wright. “Well, Mr. Wright, your cross-examination, please.”

“One week ago?” Wright asked de Killer. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am quite sure,” de Killer said. “I, of course, had my own preparations… And I was barely able to finish. When you request my services, Mr. Attorney, I hope you will keep that in mind.”

“Please… stop…”

“In any case, my client this time had a very specific date and time in mind.”

“Did you ask why on that specific night?”

“No. I try to fulfill all the conditions of my clients’ request. But as for why, I only had my suspicions.”

“So what are these ‘suspicions’ you had? Why did your client request that night…?”

“I’m sure it was all for the bear.”

“The bear…?”

“My client spoke of it. ‘I’m sure there will be a bear-shaped figurine in Juan Corrida’s room. I would like you to retrieve that item for me.’”

“Inside that figurine was a suicide note,” Miles explained. “Naturally, the victim brought it with him to his hotel room. He was planning to publicly disclose its contents at the press conference, after all.”

“That is correct,” de Killer said. “And if I had not done the job that night, I would not have known where that bear figurine was…”

“Well, Mr. Wright?” the judge asked. “Was the testimony just now of any importance?”

“The testimony just now has made one thing clear,” Wright said. “And that is…” he paused to hit his desk. “The ‘client’ knew the secret of the bear figurine!”

No one replied. I know you’re trying to buy time, Wright, but I’d prefer if that time was not wasted.

“Huh…?” Wright muttered, noticing the silence. “Why is everyone so quiet…?”

“Mr. Wright,” the judge called. “I think all of us already knew that.”

“O-Oh, really?”

“Witness, please continue with your testimony,” Miles said to de Killer.

“We met at a certain bar to discuss and finalize a few matters,” de Killer repeated.

“So you physically met Adrian Andrews, right?” Wright asked.

“… Of course I did.”

“Witness! I would like for you to give us a few more details.”

“I always meet my clients as a matter of principle. I have never taken a request by telephone or mail.”

“And why is that?” Miles asked.

“That’s because I value the trust between a client and myself above all else,” de Killer explained. “And the only way to establish that is to speak to the client while looking them in the eye.”

“Hmm…” the judge mumbled. “Well, Mr. Wright? Was the testimony just now of any importance?”

“Why he meets his clients is not important,” Wright said. “And that wasn’t the point. Witness, please stop side-stepping my questions!”

“Wh-What do you mean by that?” de Killer stammered.

“My question was ‘Did you really meet Adrian Andrews in person?’”

“I have already told you, Mr. Wright. I did. It was only through talking with him face to face that I began to trust him. That’s when I thought, ‘I can trust this person as a client.’”

“Hmm… It’s true what they say about talking face to face,” the judge agreed.

I can’t help but question that, considering how many people have lied to another person’s face…

“Well, Mr. Wright?” the judge asked. “Was the testimony just now of any importance?”

“Your Honor,” Wright called. “I believe the testimony just now was of the utmost importance.”

“Huh? Really?”

“If that’s the case…” Miles said. “Witness, please include the statement just now in your testimony.”

“Very well,” de Killer replied. “From the moment I saw him, I thought, ‘I can trust this person as a client.’”

“Objection!” Wright yelled. “I would like to go over this one more time. You met Adrian Andrews at a bar and took the request at that time?”

“Yes, that is correct.”

“And that’s when you thought ‘he’ was trustworthy…”

“How many times must I repeat myself? Yes, that is correct.”

“I’m sorry, but that is an impossible tale.”

“Wh-What!?”

“Shelly de Killer.” Wright paused to pound on his desk. “You have never met the real Adrian Andrews!”

“Wh-Why would you say that…?”

“Because you made one very big slip-up… …about her.”

“So what is the issue…” De Killer paused when the problem occurred to him. “Wh-What did you say just now…? About ‘her’…?”

“If you had ever met Adrian Andrews in person…” Wright paused again to hit his desk. “One look would have told you that she is a woman!”

“Ohoooooo!” The radio’s outer casing burst off.

The gallery started up, though the judge banged his gavel and quieted them down.

“O-Order!” he yelled as the bailiff put the radio’s casing back on. “Order in the court!” He turned to Wright. “Mr. Wright! What is the meaning of this!?”

“This witness testified to the following: That he always meets face to face with his clients when taking their request,” Wright said.

“But he has never met Adrian Andrews in person…”

“Yes, Your Honor!” Miles replied. “That is exactly the point!” He struck his desk. “That means Mr. de Killer’s client could not have been Ms. Adrian Andrews!”

“Ugnnn…” de Killer groaned as the radio began leaking some sort of brown liquid. The gallery started up again.

I shall consider the quality of this radio representative of just how much you respect the courts, Mr. de Killer.

“Mr. Edgeworth… I understand your logic on this one…” the judge said. “However… Why would the assassin make such a basic mistake?”

“I believe it has to do with her name, Your Honor,” Miles suggested.

“Her name?”

“Yes. Adrian Andrews is, without a doubt, a very androgynous name.”

“Hmm… Yes, I see…”

“Unluckily for Mr. de Killer, the entire time he was on the stand, no one had stated Adrian Andrews’ gender. And so, he simply picked the wrong gender to go with.”

“Wh-What… What is going on…?”

The gallery got noisy enough that the judge saw fit to bang his gavel again.

“Shelly de Killer!” he roared at the witness. “This court demands an explanation!”

“Umm… I-I think somehow… I must have mixed up this client with another,” de Killer lied.

“So does that mean you remember something different now?” Miles taunted.

“Yes, of course. Please, if you would allow me to testify once more…”

“Very well,” the judge said with a whack of his gavel. “But this time, please give us the truth, and nothing but the truth!”

“Yes, now I remember,” de Killer testified as the radio stopped leaking. “I took that request by mail. There have been times when I took a job without having met my client. The request was for the murder of Juan Corrida and 2 or 3 other small things. When I saw the name at the end of the letter, I thought my client to be a man.”

“Hmm…” the judge mumbled. “So you took this job through a letter…”

Mia said something to Wright, who said something in response.

“Now then, let’s begin the cross-examination,” the judge continued.

“Two or three other things…?” Wright asked de Killer after looking over the testimony.

“Yes,” de Killer replied.

“And what were these ‘other things’?”

“A few other things that have nothing to do with this case.”

“Hmm…” the judge mumbled.

“Whether or not they’re related to this case is for the court to decide,” Wright insisted.

“…Mr. Attorney,” de Killer growled.

“Y-Yes?”

“Everything I have said from the beginning has been nothing but beneficial to your client. Which is why I wonder what is pushing you to continue with this cross-examination. Could it be…” The radio began giving off steam and jumping, yet it miraculously never fell off the stand. “That you are planning to betray your own client…?”

“Th-That’s…”

“I smell the stench of a back-stabber.”

Said the pot to the kettle…

“And should you turn out to be one…” de Killer continued.

“W-W-Wait!” Wright interrupted. “Witness, this is a very important matter. Please cooperate and tell us what these other ‘jobs’ your client requested were…”

The radio stopped giving off steam. “If it’s truly that important, I suppose I don’t have much of a choice,” de Killer sighed. “The bear figurine.”

“The bear figurine…?”

“After the assassination of the target, I was to find that figurine. I was told that this job was just as important as the actual killing.”

“And… Where was that figurine…?”

“It was inside Mr. Corrida’s suitcase.”

“And then… what did you do next?”

“I handed it over to my client right away.”

“You gave it to your ‘client’… Interesting.”

“Hmm… This information certainly sounds important to me,” the judge said to de Killer. “Witness, please include what you just stated in your testimony.”

“As you wish,” de Killer replied. “One of these was to find the bear figurine and to give it to Adrian Andrews.”

“Objection!” Wright shouted. “Shelly de Killer. If you had really given the bear to Ms. Andrews… then this item should not have been inside it.” He indicated the fake suicide note.

“‘This item’…?”

“I see where you’re going…” Miles commented.

“Yup that’s where I’m going…” Wright said.

“Where is everyone going!?” the judge asked. “Do I need to pack a suitcase?”

“Your Honor. Please think back to Ms. Andrews’ testimony. ‘And I was going to burn it… for her sake.’” Wright pounded on his desk. “If even for a single minute, this bear had actually been in Ms. Andrews’ hands… I’m sure she would have taken the suicide note out and burned it!”

The gallery started up.

“Order! Order! Order!” the judge roared, banging his gavel with each shout of “Order!”. “So that’s where you two were going!”

“So by the very fact that this suicide note was still inside the bear…” Miles said. “Tells us that your ‘client didn’t know how to disassemble the puzzle!”

“Wh-Which means…?”

Miles struck his desk. “It means, Your Honor, that it is impossible for Adrian Andrews to be the ‘client’!”

“Ohoooooo!” de Killer screamed as the radio’s casing burst off again.

The gallery started up again and the judge banged his gavel again.

“O…Order!” he shouted as the bailiff again put the casing back on. “Order! ORDER!!”

The radio began giving off steam again. “Ungh…” de Killer growled. “Mr.…Phoenix Wright… I… I’m sure I mentioned this before. How I hate traitors above all else!” The radio jumped on the word “traitors”.

It looks like this is the end… Wright, don’t blame yourself for this.

“I think your cross-examination has clearly demonstrated something to me,” de Killer continued, the radio jumping several more times. “You… You must wish to break your end of our agreement!”

“No!” Wright cried. “That’s not…”

“That’s enough! If that is your intention, then there is only one thing for me to do!”

Wright pounded on his desk. “W-Wait! Please!”

“Gentlemen, ladies, please excuse me. I have a matter that I must attend to.”

“Hold it!” Wright begged, pounding on his desk again. “N…No… Please… Not that… Please wait…”

“Mr. Attorney! Bring this trial to a speedy end, and I may stay my hand! Otherwise…”

“Nnnngh…” Wright collapsed, his head in his hands. “Gnwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!!”

The gallery started up again. The judge did nothing, too shocked by Wright’s reaction to bang his gavel.

“What in the…?” he stammered. “Mr. Wright…? Are you…?”

It appears Franziska could not arrive in time…

“Mr. Edgeworth…? the judge called.

“Yes, Your Honor?” Miles replied.

“I didn’t understand the witness’ outburst just now. Do you think there is a need to hear more testimony, or is this enough…?”

“Well… We should…” Would de Killer give more testimony if we asked? I doubt it, but it’s worth a— Miles noticed the pleading look on Wright’s face. “U…Ungh! The prosecution…” I… think I understand, Wright. …You love her, don’t you? “I…”

“Wh-What has come over everyone?” the judge stammered. “Even you are…”

“The prosecution… rests.” I’ll let you carry the burden, then. But know this, Wright: while you cannot be blamed for Maya dying… if Ms. Andrews is sent to her death, her blood is just as much on your hands as it is on Engarde’s.

“What is going on around here…?”

Miles struck his desk, regaining his composure. “The prosecution has no further questions, Your Honor.”

“Wh… Whaaaaaaaat!?” the judge screamed as the gallery got even louder. “Well, I never thought I’d see the day. This is a most unusual situation… If the prosecution rests with no further questions… Then… the prosecution has failed to uphold its stance.”

It’s time to see just what kind of person you are, Wright. Since you asked for this burden, I can no longer save you if you make a mistake.

“If that is the case,” the judge continued, “then even though I am reluctant, I must believe that Mr. de Killer’s testimony is accurate. That would mean that Shelly de Killer’s client is… Adrian Andrews!”

Miles collapsed onto his desk, his arms barely managing to prop him up. “Nnngh…” he growled.

“Mr. Wright!” the judge called.

“Y-Yes, Your Honor?” Wright replied.

“If I end the trial here, right now, then your client, Matt Engarde, would be declared innocent. And in his place, Adrian Andrews would be charged with murder.” He paused to bang his gavel. “The prosecution has no further questions, so we will no hear the defense’s final remarks. Bailiff! Please bring the defendant, Matt Engarde, to the stand!”

The bailiff escorted Engarde to the stand. He maintained his guise of innocence as he set down the glass of chocolate milk he had been holding.

“Dude, did the old guy finally decide?” Engarde asked.

“To be honest,” the judge said before Wright could reply, “I can’t think of you as a truly innocent and good person. You have done enough evil to drive a woman to suicide.”

He’s done far more than that, Your Honor, and if I was wrong to entrust his fate to Wright, he will get away with all of it.

“But…” the judge continued. “At least on the charge of murder, it would appear you are innocent.”

“Hah…!” Engarde chuckled. He swept back part of his hair, revealing a scar on his face that looked like the work of an especially angry cat. Following that, he picked up his glass of milk and began swirling it around. “So, I guess even the old fuddy-duddy figured me out!”

“M-Mr. Engarde…?”

“You were atrocious as a lawyer, weren’t you?” he taunted Wright. “Giving your client away like this! And that ‘refreshing like a spring breeze’ crap; it’s just as atrocious, don’t you agree?”

You are the most atrocious thing of all…

“Anyway,” he continued, “get on with it and pronounce me innocent already. Right, Mister Lawyer!?”

Your time is up, Wright. You asked for this choice… now prove to me I was right to give it to you!

“Now then, Mr. Wright,” the judge said with a whack of his gavel. “Let’s hear the defense’s final statements on this matter. If the person who hired the assassin was Adrian Andrews… Then your client, Mr. Matt Engarde is innocent.”

“Hmph…” Engarde scoffed. “There’s no need to ask, old man. After all, my lawyer is going to say what I want… aren’t you?”

“Wright…” Miles warned.

“My client…” Wright struggled to say. “Matt Engarde is…” He trailed off, apparently unable to speak.

“We are waiting for your answer, Mr. Wright!” the judge barked. “Matt Engarde, your client deserves an answer!”

“Matt Engarde is…”

A whip cracked, cutting Wright off.



“F-Franziska von Karma!!” Wright stammered.

Thank God…

“Wh-What are you doing here…” the judge managed to say before the edge of Franziska’s whip struck him. “OWW!”

“You see now, don’t you… Mr. Phoenix Wright?” Franiska gloated. She held up her tracking device. “This is exactly why you should NEVER take your eyes off of that scruffy fool!”

“Did you bring them?” Miles asked. “The final pieces… Do you have them?”

“You should know better than to ask that, Mr. Miles Edgeworth. A Von Karma is perfect in every way! The evidence is here in perfect condition! Don’t worry about Scruffy. He’s fine, and his injuries are minor.”

Good. He deserves as much after what he’s been through…

“All of the items are inside this,” Franziska continued, holding up Gumshoe’s trench coat, which had been tied up like a bag.

“What a filthy, old coat this is…” the judge commented.

“I apologize for its ugliness, but there was nothing else to wrap the items in.”

Wright pounded on his desk, revived. “Your Honor!” he shouted. “Inside that filthy coat… Are the defense’s final pieces of evidence!”

“Your final… evidence!?”

The gallery started up again, though the judge did not bang his gavel.

“This trial is already over,” he said after a pause. “All that remains is for me to hand down my verdict. I do not believe that any evidence presented now, would change the outcome of this trial.”

No! We can’t be stopped now!

“Objection!” Miles shouted, striking his desk even harder than Wright had a moment ago. “Your Honor. It is our duty to examine every piece of evidence, down to the last. I request that Ms. von Karma be allowed to present these pieces of evidence!”

“Hmm…” the judge grumbled. “I suppose you are right, Mr. Edgeworth. I grant permission to do so.”

Thank God…

“However, this one rule applies here,” the judge continued. “If these items do not bring up any new points, then they will not be accepted by this court. Now, Ms. von Karma. If you please.”

“These pieces of evidence are items left by De Killer during his escape from the police,” Franziska explained.

“Hmm… He must have been in quite a rush.”

“Yes, Your Honor. De Killer left three pieces of evidence.” She paused and took out a handgun. “The first item is a pistol.”

“Please present the next piece of evidence,” Wright requested.

“The second piece of evidence is this video tape,” Franziska continued, taking out a videocassette.

“Have you checked the contents of that tape?”

“Unfortunately, there was no time to.”

“Oh yeah…”

“But I would speculate that this tape is very important.”

“Why would you say that?” the judge asked.

“Because he came back to his hideout for it,” Franziska answered.

“De… De Killer went back for it…?” Wright asked.

“That’s right. It looks like he was trying to recover it. He injured three of the officers at the site.”

“Hmm…” the judge mumbled.

“But somehow, it looks like they managed to protect it from De Killer. Shelly de Killer is no ordinary man.” She put the videocassette down and took out what looked like a bellboy’s uniform from the Gatewater Hotel. “The last piece of evidence is this bellboy’s uniform.”

“Was that used during the crime?” Wright asked.

“I am almost certain it was,” Franziska replied. “There’s even a pair of black leather gloves in one of the pockets.”

Then there’s no doubt that de Killer wore that uniform…

“There’s one thing I found interesting about this uniform,” Franziska continued.

“And what is that?” Miles asked.

“There is a button missing on this uniform.”

“A button…?”

“It’s a very unique button. I’m sure if we were to recover it… It would provide us with an interesting clue.”

“Hmm…” the judge mumbled.

“That is all I have to present, Your Honor.”

“Hmm… It’s just as I thought.”

“And… what is that, Your Honor…?” Wright struggled to ask.

“I’m sure, were we under normal circumstances, these items from Shelly de Killer’s hideout would be very important clues. However… Our question is not ‘Who did the killing?’”

“It is, ‘Who is the client?’…” Miles finished.

“Yes, that is correct. And these three items do not tell us anything about that!” The judge paused to bang his gavel. “Thank you for your hard work, Ms. von Karma. You may step down now.”

“Hold it!” Wright begged. “Wait, Your Honor!” He pounded on his desk. “Please allow me to examine this new evidence!”

“Overruled. This court already has all the evidence it needs to hand down a verdict!”

“Wonderful…” Engarde snarled. “Absolutely splendid. This judge is such a brilliant man, isn’t he?”

“Phoenix,” Mia called.

“I knew it…” Wright whimpered. “There’s no such thing as a ‘miracle’ in this world, is there?”

“I think you’re wrong. I think they do exist.”

He’s not God. A miracle, by definition, is something that would not normally occur under any circumstances. If Wright gets out of this, it will be incredible, but it will be no miracle.

“But you have to make that ‘miracle’ happen,” Mia continued. “You’ve come this far! You can’t give up now!”

“But… But… No matter how you think about it… It’s… It’s…”

“Try… For my sake. Just think about it for a second. There are two ways out of this situation for us. The first… Make Engarde wish from the bottom of his soul for a guilty verdict.”

“Huh?”

“De Killer will always place his client’s wishes first. If Engarde himself wishes to be convicted, then he will let his hostage go.”

“Th-That may be true, but… That’s asking me to do the impossible!”

“The second way… Force De Killer to end his contract with Engarde. If De Killer were to no longer think of Engarde as his ‘client’… Then he would let Maya go.”

“Mia!” Wright cried, hitting his desk. “That’s even more impossible! He is a man who values his duty towards his clients above all else!”

She’s right, Wright. Even though they both seem impossible, they’re our only way out!

“I know both of these seem like impossible feats at first,” Mia said, echoing Miles’s thoughts. “But if you could make either one happen, it would truly be a ‘miracle’.”

“The bigger problem is,” Wright replied, “the judge has already said he doesn’t need any more evidence! The pieces he was just shown; he’s not accepting them!”

“Phoenix. Think things through from the other side. Isn’t that what has always worked for us?”

“You mean… to turn things around?”

“Phoenix. The judge says he doesn’t need the evidence. If that’s the case, then who does need it?”

That’s a good question. A better question, though, Mia, is since you seem to know what to do, why the hell are you not doing it!?

“The defense, prosecution, and the judge…” Mia continued. “We have seen all the pieces of evidence. And that is how we have come to know the ‘truth’. But there are people who have not seen them all. And those people do not know the ‘truth’. That truth… It may be what will bring about the miracle in the end.”

The judge banged his gavel, apparently through letting Wright and Mia continue talking. “There are no objections this time, correct?” he asked. “Now then, I will pronounce my verdict!”

“Why don’t we all respectfully sit back and listen, kids,” Engarde said.

“Objection!” Wright shouted.

The judge shook his head. “I have already told you, Mr. Wright,” he said. “This court does not need any more evidence.”

Wright pounded on his desk. “I am not saying it is us that needs the evidence, your Honor!” he shouted.

So you have it, do you? I should hope you do…

“Then… you want to show the evidence to… that person…?” the judge asked, probably choosing not to name “that person” because he did not know who Wright meant.

“Yes, Your Honor,” Wright said with a nod. He hit his desk again. “Please, Your Honor!”

“Mr. Wright. For you to ask with such passion… I will grant you one chance. Please show your evidence to who you think is the right person.”

“Objection!” Miles shouted, striking his desk. “That’s impossible! To turn this situation around in one try…”

“One try. That is all I will permit.”

I tried… Wright, this is all up to you now. For Ms. Andrews’s sake… and for Maya’s sake… you better not fail!

“Now then, Mr. Wright,” the judge said with a whack of his gavel. “Let’s not waste any more time. Who would you like to show evidence to?”

“Take that!” Wright shouted, tossing a profile to the judge.

“I see. And now… Tell this court what one piece of evidence you would like to show this person!”

“Take that!” Wright yelled again, holding the videocassette.

“Well, what do you think, Mr. Edgeworth…? the judge asked as the bailiff handed Miles the profile.

Shelly de Killer… Is it that hard to say a name, Wright? Still…

“Uh…” Miles stuttered. “Um… I think there is some merit… in showing this evidence to that witness.”

The judge banged his gavel after a moment. “Bailiff! Bring in the transceiver from earlier!”

The radio was brought in, already on.

“Maya…” Wright said. “She’s OK, right!?”

“Didn’t I tell you to concern yourself with bringing about a speedy end to this trial?” de Killer asked. “Now, if I understand correctly, you wish to show me one piece of evidence?”

“Yes. One is all I need.” Wright held up the videocassette. “I have here a video tape. It was found at your hideout.”

De Killer didn’t respond.

“I heard you injured three officers in your attempt to get this back,” Wright continued.

“That was most regrettable,” de Killer said. “However, it was an order from my client. I was told to protect that video tape. I’m afraid I seem to have failed in that regard.”

“Do you know the contents of this tape?”

“I was sternly told by my client to not watch it. So I have absolutely no idea.”

In that case, I would think it safe to say that it’s the tape of the murder.

“Actually, you are on this tape,” Wright said.

“Me?” de Killer asked.

“There was a video camera hidden at the crime scene. Your actions were being recorded.”

“Wh-What!?”

“Is that true!?” the judge cut in. “Mr. Wright!?”

“Who…” de Killer stuttered. “Who was it that planted a camera…!?”

“Well,” Wright replied, “the only person who could have placed a camera at the scene of the crime… would be your ‘client’ naturally.”

“Th-That was… Adrian Andrews…” the judge stuttered.

Miles struck his desk. “Be quiet and listen… Your Honor,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir.”

“Your ‘client’ specified a place and time for you, isn’t that right?” Wright continued.

“Y-Yes…” de Killer admitted.

“That was so they could film you.”

“I had no idea,” de Killer said after a pause. He was silent for a moment. “Mr. Wright. Why would my client do such a thing?”

I can only think of one reason… Wright, you have done well. I can see now how we can end this properly.

“I would like to know why…” de Killer continued.

“There is only one reason why your ‘client’ would secretly film the crime scene,” Wright said. “They…” He trailed off and hit his desk. “Your ‘client’ once told me something very interesting. We were talking about you, and this is what they said. ‘But I’m no weakling. I don’t believe anyone… least of all assassins.’ ‘Oh, come now, Mr. Wright. Assassins aren’t above blackmail.’ ‘Yes, that’s where the video comes in. With that, I can keep him at bay, and even blackmail him if I want.’ Your ‘client’ didn’t trust you at all. They were thinking of using this video to blackmail you!” He pounded on his desk. “What do you have to say to that, Shelly de Killer!?”

“Gnnn…nnnngh…” de Killer growled, the radio leaking again. “Ohoooooo!” The casing burst off again and the gallery started up.

Game over, Engarde. Few victories have been more satisfying than this one.

“It looks like…” de Killer managed to say after the casing was put back on. Steam was coming out of the radio again. “It looks like I was being deceived from the very beginning…”

“Yes…” Wright agreed. “By a natural… that is the kind of person they are. Your ‘client’ is a person who only thinks and plots of how to use the people around them to protect themselves from any and all dangers that may arise. That is the true nature of your ‘client’.”

“I have one question for the witness,” Miles said.

“Yes?” de Killer asked.

“You told us one thing numerous times during your testimony. You said that you detest traitors most of all.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“But what if that traitor was your own client…?” Miles paused to strike his desk. “What would you do then!?”

“… That’s obvious. I would break our contract in that case. And then… That client would become my next target. For the honor of the De Killer name, even if it takes an eternity… I would follow that person to the ends of the earth to exact my punishment.”

“I see,” Miles said, doing his “evil smile.” “That’s all I wanted to know.” Considering the sentence almost certainly awaiting Engarde, I can’t say I particularly care whether it is de Killer or the state who ultimately takes his life…

“Mr. Wright,” de Killer said.

“Yes…?” Wright responded.

“My contract with my client is over as of now. I seem to have a new job on my hands. I will now return to you, your precious item.”

“…What the!?” Maya shouted over the radio. “I’m not an item!”

Finally… Yet again, Wright, you have saved a life where I would not have. This was no miracle, but it was truly impressive.

“Um…” the judge mumbled. “This trial appears to have come to its conclusion… However… I… Actually, I am sort of… I don’t quite know what just happened there with the client and the witness and…” Franziska cut him off with her whip. “Gwaaah!” His head darted back and forth as he tried to figure out where the whip had come from. “M-Ms. von Karma! Where did that…!?”

“She always has you in her sights,” Miles said. Considering what that man put me through, I wouldn’t mind whipping him myself… Miles struck his desk. “Now! I do believe it’s time to finally hand down a verdict!”

“Mr. Engarde,” Wright taunted his client, who was sweating artillery shells. “It looks like somehow, you got what you wanted. You will finally receive the acquittal you wanted so badly. You should be happy.”

“But before that,” Miles added, “I would like to make one final statement. Sometime in the near future, one very betrayed assassin may appear before you. Needless to say, that man is very good at what he does.” He indicated the videocassette. “I’m sure you would understand what I mean, if you watch this video.” As I understand, your rival was a Senior Level Sambist. Yet de Killer still killed him with only a scarf. I wonder how well you will fare…

“…H— Help me…” Engarde squeaked.

Miles struck his desk again. “Now then, Your Honor!” he called. “The verdict, if you please.”

“I-Is this alright with you, Mr. Wright?” the judge asked.

“We have finally reached the end of a very long battle,” Mia said. “Whether he’s convicted or acquitted, there is no escape for him now. Go on, Phoenix. Plead whichever way your heart tells you.”

“Right, Chief,” Wright replied. He looked at Engarde. “…Matt Engarde. Even though I am a lawyer, I cannot make your crime disappear. I think a guilty verdict is appropriate here.”

“M-Me!?” Engarde stammered. “My wonderful self…!? G-Guilty!?”

“Even if you got an acquittal, the instant you set foot outside the detention center, your life would be in danger. No matter which way you look at it…” Wright paused to strike his desk, then pointed an accusing and satisfied finger at Engarde. “You can’t run away from your crime anymore!”

“Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!” Engarde screamed, scratching his face vigorously. “Guiltyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Guuuuuilty!!!GGG—Guuiiillltyyyy!!!GGGUUUILLLTYYY!!GUILTY!!!GuiLTy!!guIIIltYY!!Guil—guilty!guilty!GUilTY!GUILTY!” Miles thought he had heard the judge declaring a guilty verdict, though Engarde’s screams drowned out most of what the judge said. After falling silent, Engarde was escorted toward the doors by the bailiff, his face bleeding profusely from his scratching it.

Miles motioned for the bailiff to come to him.

“Please leave Ms. von Karma in charge of this filth,” he whispered to the bailiff. “She will keep a good eye on him while we finish up in here.”

The bailiff nodded and motioned for Franziska to follow him as he left the courtroom with Engarde.

“As always, it looks like we have uncovered the real truth,” the judge said.

Says the man who contributed nothing…

“Mr. Edgeworth,” the judge called. “How is Matt Engarde?”

“I have left Ms. von Karma in charge of his incarceration,” Miles stated. “I’m sure he’s getting a full-course meal of whip leather right about now.”

“Very good.” The judge turned his attention to Ms. Andrews. “That was a close one, wasn’t it, witness?”

“Yes…” she replied. “I plan to pay my debt to society for my own crime, Your Honor.” She fell silent and hung her head.

It’s nothing you can’t handle. Were Lana here, she’d be able to tell you as much.

“This trial was the first time I had stood on the witness stand,” she continued, “and when I did… I really felt hopeless. But… after that, when I was alone at the detention center… that’s the first time I really saw myself and who I am.” She paused. “And today… When the two of you used your combined strength to convict Matt…” She paused and smiled brightly. “I… I felt like I had finally been saved.”

A smile second only to Lana’s… It’s astonishing, how much this case reminds me of Lana’s trial…

“I am really happy that you two were in charge of this case,” Ms. Andrews said. “I really don’t know how to express how I feel at this moment… This is… This is the first time I’ve felt comfortable with myself; with who I am. Thank you so much, everyone!”

“It looks like we have resolved everything at last,” the judge announced. “As for myself, there are still a few things I’m confused about… But everyone seems to be in good spirits, and that is good enough for me. That is all. This court is adjourned!” The judge banged his gavel a final time.



Miles returned to the prosecution lobby and recoiled in horror at the sight awaiting him: Engarde was lying on the floor in a pool of blood, not moving. Powers had collapsed onto the sofa, his face extremely pale. Franziska was gripping her whip tightly.

Oh, dear…

“He’s still alive,” Franziska said. “Not that he deserves to be. He lost consciousness after only a few lashes, the weakling.”

Miles breathed a sigh of relief as four guards entered and carried Engarde out to receive medical treatment.

“Are you going to be alright, Mr. Powers?” Miles asked.

“I… I-I think so…” Powers managed to say.

“I’m sorry you had to witness that.”

“I-It’s nothing, really…”

“Are you sure? You’re as pale as a ghost…”

Powers sighed. “I-I’m sorry… When Ms. von Karma started whipping Matt like that… I just…”

“There’s no need to apologize,” Miles interrupted. “It’s my fault for asking that Ms. von Karma handle Engarde’s incarceration. If I had remembered that you were in here, I would have asked for Engarde to be taken somewhere else.”

“I-It’s okay…”

“I’m going to keep an eye on Engarde,” Franziska said, excusing herself.

“S-So… Maya…” Powers stuttered, tears welling up in his eyes.

“She’s safe,” Miles said. “Engarde dug his own grave by plotting to betray de Killer.”

“R-Really?”

“I expect I will be called any moment with word that she is being driven here. Of course, Ms. Andrews will still have to serve her time in prison for her actions…”

“O-Oh…”

“But she seemed much more satisfied with herself. I believe she’ll leave prison a much happier woman than she was when this case started.”

“That’s a relief… I just… I remember how… distant she was…”

“Славься, славься, наш Русский Царь!
Господом дан—”

“This is Edgeworth,” Miles said, picking up his cell phone.

“Sir, we have found Ms. Maya Fey,” a patrolwoman on the other end said.

“Tell Nick I’m okay!” Maya shouted in the background.

“We’re on our way to the precinct—”

“Actually,” Miles interrupted, “please take her to the courthouse.”

“Sir?”

“Some people who care about her are waiting here. There’s no point in making them wait to see her any longer than is necessary.”

“Understood, sir. We’ll be there momentarily.”

Miles hung up. “Well, Mr. Powers,” he said, “if you’ll excuse me, I must go tell Wright the good news.”

“Okay,” Powers replied, leaving.

“Ah! Wait!” I shouldn’t pass up this opportunity…

“Hm?”

“My soon-to-be sister-in-law is a big fan of the Steel Samurai. Since I have you here right now, do you think you could sign an autograph for her?”

Powers smiled, blushing slightly as Miles handed him a pen and a piece of paper. “S-Sure. What’s her name?”

“Ema.”

“Um… How is that spelled?”

“E-M-A.”

“Okay.” Powers wrote the autograph and handed it back to Miles.

“Thank you. I’m sure she will be pleased.”

Placing the autograph in his coat pocket, Miles left the prosecution lobby and walked to the defendant lobby.

“Wright!” Miles called, entering the lobby.

“E-Edgeworth…” Wright stuttered.

“I have good news. Maya is now safe in police custody!”

“Really!?” Pearl almost cried.

“P-Pearls—” Wright stuttered.

“You’re telling us the truth, right Mr. Edgeworth!?”

“Y-Yes…” Miles replied. “She’s quite safe. She is on her way here as we speak in a patrol car.”

“Aaaaaaaaah! Mystic Maya! Mystic Maya’s safe!! You did it! You really did it, Mr. Nick!” She punched Wright hard in the arm. “I… I believed in you. I kept saying to myself: Mr. Nick will save her… Mr. Nick will save her… Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” Pearl burst into tears.

“Ah, um… Thanks,” Wright muttered, blushing.

“Oh…” Pearl gasped, calming down. Miles followed her gaze.

Franziska…

“What’s wrong?” Wright asked.

“Ms. von Karma…” Pearl said.

Franziska approached Wright, but didn’t speak.

“Um…” Wright managed to say. “About earlier… Uh… Thanks…” Franziska whipped him. “OWW!!”

“Why are you still smiling… Mr. Phoenix Wright!?” Franziska demanded. “You… You lost!! Your perfect win record has now been crushed! And yet… You are still happy!?”

She was certainly quick to forget what I told her…

“I don’t think you’ll ever understand… Ms. von Karma,” Wright said.

“How dare you!?” she snapped.

“Don’t worry,” Miles said. “She may in time. After all, I was like that myself, until a year ago…”

“E-Edgeworth…?” Wright stammered.

“For my own personal victories… and for guilty verdicts… I used every dirty trick in the book. And so my win record remained spotless. But… A man appeared and stood fast against that selfish me. I fought him in my usual manner, and tasted my first defeat. I felt like I had lost everything because of that. And then… It was my turn to sit in the defendant’s chair. And I was saved… by that person I called my ‘enemy’…” Yes… Twice, I suppose, if not even more than that… To think I once fought so blindly… and so selfishly… Innocent people have surely suffered because of me… “I couldn’t forgive myself for all that had happened. So I left the Prosecutor’s Office. And I left that note… ‘Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death’…”

“Hmph, as well you should have,” Franziska scoffed. “A prosecutor who has shamed himself with defeat should crawl into a hole and die!”

“…But that was not what happened.” And I should hope you do not follow your own suggestion, Franziska. “After I left the Prosecutor’s Office, I finally came to realize something. And it was in that moment of clarity that everything began to change.”

“Wh-What foolish nonsense…”

“We prosecutors use anything we can to attack the defendant. But every time we did so… No matter how desperate the situation… instead of giving up like most people, that man would hold strong with his undying faith. And then, before I knew it… I began to trust in that man as well.”

“Wh-What!? You trusted your enemy!?”

It appears Wright’s faith is rubbing off on me… In due time, Franziska, I believe you’ll understand just who the “enemy” is… “It doesn’t matter how many underhanded tricks a person uses… The truth will always find a way to make itself known. The only thing we can do is to fight with the knowledge we hold and everything we have. Erasing the paradoxes one by one… It’s never easy… We claw and scratch for every inch. But we will always eventually reach that one single truth. This I promise you.”

“The ‘truth’…” Pearl repeated.

“Yes. That’s the reason why prosecutors and defense lawyers exist. But I’m sure you knew that already, didn’t you Wright? That’s why you couldn’t forgive me; this man who went into hiding. Isn’t that right? This man who only had his sights set on ‘victory’, who ran away into the night…”

“Ah! Is… Is Mr. Edgeworth right, Mr. Nick…!?”

You didn’t see me when I was like that, Pearl. Count yourself lucky.

“When you disappeared, I felt… betrayed,” Wright said. “The reason I decided to become a lawyer to begin with… Was because I believed in the things you said to me, all those years ago… And you… You betrayed your own words. That’s why… one year ago, I made up my mind. I decided that the Miles Edgeworth I knew had died… …At least, that’s what I told myself.”

“You pathetic fool!” Franziska spat.

“M-Ms. von Karma…” Pearl stuttered.

“I don’t want to hear the wretched whimpering of a disgraced loser! A Von Karma is someone who is destined to be perfect! Miles Edgeworth… You are no longer worthy! You are no longer worthy of being a Von Karma! And neither am I! It’s over… It’s all over!” She threw down her whip and something else and stormed out of the room.

“This is… an electromagnetic receiver,” Miles said, picking up the object.

“Isn’t that the thing she used to track Detective Gumshoe…?” Wright asked.

“I’ll return this to the precinct later. There’s something else…” Miles picked up the whip.

“Ah!” Pearl exclaimed. “Isn’t that Ms. von Karma’s whip!?”

“‘I’ll never set foot in another courtroom again’… I’m sure that’s what she’s saying by this action…” He handed it to Wright. “You should keep this, Wright.”

“Umm… OK,” he said after a moment of hesitation.

“Nick!!” a familiar voice cried. Miles looked in the direction of the voice. It was Maya, looking on the verge of tears.

“M-M-M… MAYA!”

“Mystic Maya!” Pearl exclaimed. She started crying again. “Mystic Mayaaaaaaaa!”

Maya ran into Wright’s arms, Pearl joining them.

“Oh, Nick!” Maya cried. “I knew you would come through! You got Engarde convicted, like I knew you would… And on top of that, you even rescued me!”

“Well, of course I did!” Wright replied, his own voice breaking. “You know I would never desert you! But we sure pressed our luck this trial… You’re really lucky to be standing here!”

“Whatever, whatever. Look, it’s over, OK? Besides, if I did croak, I would just come back and haunt you like a bad ghost through Pearly!”

…I suppose calling her a fraud would be inappropriate at a time like this… It’s not as if she’s hurt anyone with her act…

“Th-Thanks a lot… Nick,” Maya said.

“Um… Don’t mention it,” Wright replied, blushing.

“Maya…” Miles cut in. I don’t think talking about how ready I was to let her die would be proper, either…

“Oh, Mr. Edgeworth,” Maya said, a bit surprised.

“Um… I’m relieved you’re alright.”

“Hey… It looks like you’ve made some real progress, Mr. Edgeworth!”

“Umm… Well, I suppose I’m a little different from who I was a year ago.”

“Heh…”

What would have likely been a joke was prevented when Maya’s stomach growled loudly.

“Alright!” Maya chirped, grabbing Wright’s hand and trying to lead him out the door. “I think it’s time we got out of this depressing place!”

“Huh?” Wright muttered. “Where are we going!?”

“Food, Nick! FOOD! Grub! Chow! I’m starved! I’m so hungry even you look like a nice, juicy burger on a bun to me, Nick!”

“Y-You think I look like a burger…? I’m a Prime Rib at least!”

What would that make me? Lobster thermidor?

“Come with us, Mr. Edgeworth!” Pearl insisted, grabbing Miles’s hand. “Please!!”

“Uh, um…” Miles muttered. “If you insist…”

“Alright…” Wright said. “So how about we hit up our usual burger joint…?”

“Don’t be silly, Nick,” Maya replied.

“Huh?”

“This case messed up that awesome evening, and got in the way of my gourmet food. So I’ve decided that we have to make it up by having another feast!”

“A-Another feast…?”

I can’t help but wonder if Wright can afford that…

“C’mon, Nick!” Maya excitedly shouted as she pulled on Wright’s arm. “FOOOOOOD!”

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