125 The Day Of Reckoning

“The truth wakes up once and never dies.” ― José Martí

Phoenix Wright and Dick Gumshoe
Los Angeles District Courthouse
April 20, 2026, 9:30 AM

“You’ve been awfully quiet, pal,” the police Chief remarked, casting a sideways glance at his friend, who was idly staring out the passenger window, as he had been the entire hour-long ride through morning rush-hour to court, lost in contemplation. “How are you holding up?”

“Sorry about that, Chief.” Phoenix reluctantly tore his sightless gaze away from the glass and tried to drag his thoughts back to the present, smiling wanly at the broad-shouldered man in the driver’s seat. “I’m OK, I guess. I’ve just been… You know, thinking. I apologize that I haven’t been a very good commuting companion.”

The former Detective gave him a sympathetic smile as he carefully pulled into the crowded parking lot of the all too familiar building, which Phoenix hadn’t set foot in for seven years. The familiar yet unsettling sensation of altschmerz washed over him. So much had changed for him, and yet he felt like things had remained the same, and he wished he could shake the never-ending feeling of weariness with the same old issues that he’d always had – the same boring flaws and anxieties that he’d been gnawing on for years. No matter. It would all come to a head today anyway.

“You have nothing to apologize for, pal.” As the men exited the vehicle, Gumshoe placed a ham-sized palm on his shoulder. “Obviously, you have a lot on your mind, I get it. I took the day off work just so I could be here and I just want you to know that I’m here for you. Maggey and I both are. Heck, she’d be here right now if she didn’t have to watch the baby. She sends her love and best wishes.”

“There are no words to describe how grateful I am for you both.” The defendant smiled again for the other man’s benefit, even though he felt the growing apprehension mounting within him as he stared at the ominous-looking flight of stairs leading up to the courthouse entrance behind him. “On that note, there’s something that I wanted to tell you. Trucy was pretty shaken up about this whole thing, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

“No doubt. You’re that kid’s world. She must be out of her mind with worry.”

“She was, and probably still is.” The DILF awkwardly cleared his throat. “I tried to reassure her, of course, that I’d be fine and told her to just go to school. I wanted her to try to take her mind off all this and assure her that everything would work itself out. Not that it did much good.”

He let out a short, dry laugh.

“The thing is though, we all know how dire the consequences are for me if things don’t work out the way I tried to reassure my daughter they would. She was pretty hysterical at the thought of being all alone if she were to lose me, and I told her that you and Maggey would be there for her, in the unlikely event of that occurring. I’m sorry if it was presumptuous to have said such a thing, without having discussed it with you, but given the circumstances…”

“Phoenix, exactly what do you think you need to be sorry for?” The uncharacteristic use of his first name startled the pianist, and he blinked in surprise as Gumshoe’s solemn tone turned fiercely protective. “All you did was tell your daughter the truth. My wife and I couldn’t love Trucy more than if she were our actual blood niece. You never need to worry about anything concerning your little girl in that regard, do you hear me?”

“I don’t know what I ever did to deserve a friend like you.” The hobo swallowed a lump forming in his throat. “I’ll thank you in my prayers for this, old friend.”

Gumshoe’s puppy dog brown eyes sparkled with emotion, and he looked away quickly, but not before the former attorney saw the tears glistening in them.

“Listen, pal, all you need to worry about is going in there and getting your name cleared, got it?” He coughed. “I mean, this conversation is just for the sake of your peace of mind because we both know nothing’s going to happen to you, right?”

“Right.” Phoenix felt some of the tension unfolding within him ease somewhat, as he acknowledged that despite the hardships that’d befallen him over the years, he was at least blessed to know his daughter had potential angels as her future guardians, should the hands of fate not turn in his favor today. “T-Thanks, Gumshoe. I kind of hoped…and sort of knew that’d be what you’d say, but it means a lot to have you confirm it out loud, you know?”

“Enough of this crazy talk!” The big man clapped the pianist on the back and gently shoved him in the direction of the stairs. “No more what-ifs! You go in there and you make sure justice is served today. I’m going to be in that gallery, and even though you may not be able to see me, know that I will be right there amongst the masses, rooting for you.”

“It’s good to know I have support, even if it is sight unseen.” Phoenix adjusted his beanie and waved at the Chief one last time. “I’ve got a lawyer to go meet for the first time. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck pal!” Gumshoe called, staring after his friend’s retreating form until he disappeared inside, then took a deep breath and headed towards the side entrance, intended for public spectators.

As he pushed his way through the throng, he was slightly astonished to see that there were hardly any seats remaining. It seemed despite being out of the headlines all these years, anything about the anterior King of the Turnabout was still considered newsworthy, and the capacity crowd this trial had drawn was certainly evidence of such. His sharp eyes scanned over the countless heads already seated in the gallery, searching for a vacancy, until he finally spotted one, almost near the very back, and off to the side. The location still gave the spectator a clear view of the trial itself, while simultaneously keeping them completely concealed from the eyes of anybody within the courtroom.

“Excuse me, Miss, is this seat taken?” He asked a petite female of indeterminable age, oddly dressed in a heavy cloak and hood.

The girl silently shook her head, her face mostly obscured by enormous dark sunglasses, which came halfway down her pale, oval face, and shifted slightly to make room for his wide frame.

As Gumshoe seated himself next to her, for some reason, he felt inclined to peer intently at the stranger beside him and found his inner sleuthing skills were setting off an impossible-to-ignore, niggling sensation, somehow suggesting to him that perhaps the young lady wasn’t such an unknown entity to him after all.

“I’m a police officer, so I hope this doesn’t come across the wrong way, Miss…” He began gawkily, his brow furrowing as he gawped at the girl. “But … do I know you? There’s something kind of familiar about you, but I can’t seem to put my finger on it…”

Rather than respond, a slightly mischievous smile played on the girl’s rosy lips upon hearing the question, and she then slipped her over-sized shades down her nose just enough so that he could catch a glimpse of very recognizable, twinkling azure eyes, belonging to none other than Trucy Wright!

“I suppose being around for half my life qualifies you to say you know me somewhat, Uncle Gumshoe,” she smirked, sliding the dark glasses back into place and playfully sticking out her tongue. “Although to really know someone is quite subjective, is it not?”

“Trucy?!” The startled Chief gaped at his niece. “What on earth are you doing here?! Didn’t your father tell you to go to school?!”

“He did,” the magician admitted, not seeming even remotely apologetic at having just been busted disobeying parental command. “Although I must say that was a pretty unrealistic expectation of him to have! As if I could ever be anywhere but at his side at a time like this, whether he knows it or not!”

“Your old man’s going to be pretty mad at you for not minding his orders.” Gumshoe let out a soundless sigh, knowing full well there was nothing he could do to dissuade her at this point since she was already there. “He’s probably going to ground you well into the next decade for sure! You do know that, right?”

“Not if you don’t tell him!” She replied cheerfully, flashing him a wink as she slipped on her shades again. “And I know that no Uncle of mine would be a lousy, dirty rat, not when we both know that there’s nowhere else I should be at a time like other than right here, giving Daddy my loving support, just like you are!”

Gumshoe groaned. Many blissful years of marriage had taught him one invaluable, unwavering life lesson – never argue with a woman, regardless of how old she was! To do so was purely an act of lunacy, resulting in a loss of one’s sanity and an exercise in futility, seeing as how it would always escalate to a battle that the man could very rarely ever win!

“I guess it doesn’t hurt for Phoenix to have as many allies in his corner as possible, especially at a time like this,” he admitted, chuckling dolefully and putting an arm around the teen in a quick hug. “But if you end up getting busted, I’m going to claim that I had no clue about anything! Deal?”

Trucy smiled at her Uncle in that smug but sweet way all females tended to when knowing they’d bested the other (male) party in a particular battle of wits.

“I have no objections to your cluelessness, Uncle Gumshoe,” she giggled, resting her hooded head on his shoulder. “None whatsoever.”

Besides, I love him too much to tell him that claiming to have no clue will be much easier and more believable than he thinks!

Apollo Justice and Kristoph Gavin
District Court Defendant
Lobby Number 3
April 20, 2026, 9:37 AM

It’s really hard to maintain your reputation as The Coolest Defense in the West when your bumbling assistant cannot even be bothered to show up for his first day of court on time! Kristoph inwardly fumed, barely resisting the urge to begin tapping his foot to indicate his steadily growing impatience.

His protégé was late, granted only by seven minutes, but considering Justice had said he would be there at 9:30, and the trial started in half an hour, this was hardly a good sign. He briefly wondered if Justice, who’d been a bundle of nerves regarding the last-minute case, had decided to chicken out at the eleventh hour.

No chance, he dismissed immediately. No employee of Kristoph Gavin’s could ever be such a coward, and his assistant was too much of a people-pleasing eager beaver to give into such weakness. More than likely the overwhelmed young man had staggered into the wrong courtroom or had gotten delayed in traffic. Either way, he made a mental note to give him a severe tongue-lashing for his unprecedented tardiness when he finally did see him. Just as he was mentally rehearsing the lecture he would give the underlying, the German, at last, spotted the horny-fringed attorney rushing towards him, looking simultaneously winded and slightly faint. In an uncharacteristic moment of magnanimousness, the defense attorney decided to delay the reprimand and instead nodded curtly in greeting.

“Ah, good morning.”

“Good morning, sir.” Apollo quickly wiped his damp-looking palms off on his pants and flashed his boss a sickly grin.

“You look tense, Justice,” Kristoph noted coolly, noting the younger man’s twitching eye and damp forehead. “Wound up tight.”

“W-Wound up, sir?” Apollo croaked. “No! I’m loose! I’m fine!”

“That screeching noise … Is that your voice?” Kristoph couldn’t help but smirk. “I suppose it’s to be expected. Your first trial, and it’s a homicide. I guess Justice doesn’t start small, eh?”

“I’m fine!” Apollo insisted, however unconvincingly. “I got up at 5:00 AM to do my “Chords of Steel” voice workout! I’m fine!”

Kristoph kept his fixed smile in place, which completely belied the fact that his own stomach with knots, albeit for different reasons. Even though his ultimate goal was to get the proverbial pebble in his shoe, Phoenix Wright, locked up behind bars once and for all, the peremptory part of him still wanted his apprentice to at least attempt to put up a good, strong front and at least appear competent, if not confident, for his premier case representing Gavin Law Offices. Squawking like a parrot with laryngitis certainly did absolutely nothing to bolster the firm’s image, any more than it did his own!

“Ah, that explains it.” Kristoph decided to try to instill some confidence into the nerve-rattled young man to avoid his own embarrassment. “I did detect a certain rasping quality to your screech.”

He pretended to ignore Apollo’s subsequent coughing fit and continued.

“As you know, the client today is a good friend of mine. I wouldn’t want you to let him down…if you get my drift.”

“Drift gotten, sir!” The kid cleared his throat and straightened himself up to his full height. “I-I’m all over that drift!”

The periwinkle-suited attorney barely stifled a sigh as he ruefully acknowledged the conundrum he was facing. If his apprentice did too good a job, it would result in his own criminal acts being brought to light, which would never do. But on the flip side, if he were to disastrously nose-dive, Kristoph’s revered status as a mentor and overall illustrious name in the legal community would become mud. It seemed his best bet for coming out of this on top with his stellar reputation intact was to have his understudy appear to make a valiant effort at his defense for their client, uncovering the actual “truth of his guilt” along the way, and in the end, make a morally appropriate decision. It wasn’t as though there was a whole lot Justice had to go on for defending his client, therefore he was pretty certain that despite a few glitches, his plan would still triumph in the end.

“As I told you before, I dined with him the night of the murder. We can’t let this case fall through.”

“Yes. Yes!” Apollo nodded earnestly. “I’m fine, sir!”

The blond man nodded swiftly and turned to head into the courtroom. He had done what he could with his employee, as far as pep talks went. The rest would be up to him. However, he still felt compelled to bequeath one final pearl of wisdom.

“One more thing. Don’t say you’re fine so much. People might take you the wrong way. I’ll be preparing our case. You might want to introduce yourself to the client.” A sardonic grin. “It appears that you are not the only one who was running late this morning.”

The slight dig didn’t go unnoticed by his underling, whose horns drooped dejectedly. With that last comment, Kristoph left his assistant alone in the defendant’s lobby so he could go over files.

Apollo stood there, letting his stomach tie itself in knots just as a man in a blue beanie and a hooded sweatshirt approached him.

At first, the defense attorney attempted to brush aside the nagging familiarity of the man – why did he seem so familiar even though he’d never seen him before? As the taller figure suddenly reached up to scratch at his hair beneath his, a familiar lock of spiky black hair popped out from under, which he hastily stuffed back into place as his impassive gaze met Apollo’s at last, and that was when he knew who this was.

He was finally face-to-face with his childhood idol.

This was Phoenix Wright – the proud, successful hero of his time – dressed in old, worn-out hand-me-downs; unshaven; disposition careless; unconcerned of his appearance. There was a very laid-back, dismissive air to him now; the lively spark was gone from his dark blue eyes, and now appeared dull and hazy from fatigue. The man he was gawking at now hovered between untouchable and a grave disappointment; it was worse than he feared: the ex-lawyer had not only fallen from grace but appeared to have lost all will to climb back up. The longer he looked at his lifelong idol, the more he started to eat his own words he repeatedly uttered to Clay about said man’s comeback, and the sadder it became to simply sit aside and watch the tragic nightmare further play out before his eyes.

A strange feeling of opia washed over him as he stared into the unreadable indigo orbs. Apollo was experiencing what could only be described as the ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, but it left him feeling simultaneously invasive and vulnerable. He didn’t know why, but as he looked into Phoenix’s eyes, he saw immense pain behind the smirk slightly playing on the older man’s lips. It didn’t feel like he was pretending though; rather, he did all that because it was the only thing he knew. It was conflicting: Apollo felt like he was staring at both his idol and a total stranger. It was distinctly Phoenix, yet it wasn’t.

Despite his casual appearance, which was a stark contrast to Apollo’s business attire, standing before his longtime hero at last still gave the shaky young man an undeniable sense of monachopsis. It didn’t make sense, this subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place. He was wholly aware that it was downright ridiculous, as Phoenix Wright was no longer a lawyer, yet he still felt as though he was the one who didn’t belong in these courtroom surroundings, while the older man, although dressed like a hobo, seemed completely at ease, as though he had never left.

The beanie wearer silently studied the young attorney carefully, ignoring the greenhorn’s first few stammers.

So this was Apollo Justice, in the flesh at long last. Or rather, as the only son of the late, great magician, Thalassa Gramarye’s first husband, Jove (née Helios) Giustizia de Illumios Justice. Apollo Justice, née Giustizia de Illumios. Giustizia was the Italian word for Justice, which he surmised Thalassa had changed it to when she had given the boy up for adoption, as the surname was much more mainstream, not to mention an easier name for American pronunciation and society.

His sharp eyes scanned over the slightly sweaty, twitchy, but good-looking young man standing before him, searching for evidence of his Italian heritage and resemblance to his daughter, as her secret elder half-sibling.

Apollo Justice was of slight stature and build, no more than 5’5” beneath his red-vest business suit and white-collar shirt, which contrasted nicely against his lightly tanned skin, which the pianist surmised the boy had inherited as part of his father’s Mediterranean ancestry. He was sweetly baby-faced, like Trucy, and had the same shade of brown hair as his sister, although his short hairdo was styled into two frontal spikes that stood above his high, prominent forehead, another trait he had undoubtedly inherited from Helios, along with his huge, wide-set eyes, which while shaped identically, and as heartfelt and innocent as his daughter’s, unlike Trucy’s cerulean orbs, inherited from their mother, her brother’s Bambi eyes were earthen brown mixed with cinnamon cream, reminding him of old sepia photographs. As his nervous gaze met Phoenix’s, there was a look of awed nervousness within them, mixed with sincerity and uncertainty.

Apparently, being in his presence made the young man feel slightly intimidated. It was touching, endearing, and amusing, all at the same time. He decided he liked Apollo at first sight and instinctively knew he’d been right to place his faith in him. Whatever the newbie attorney lacked in experience or skill, he’d more than atone for in eager willingness. Of this, Phoenix was certain. It was “do or die” time now, and he was relying on the former.

“Morning.” Phoenix saw no point in senseless frippery. “It’s all up to you today.”

The bluntness of the statement only earned him an expression of undeniable panic in return.

First trial: nervous! Apollo thought wildly, wishing he could study his frantically hammering
heartbeat. Meeting him: CARDIAC ARREST!

Intuitively sensing the red attorney’s discomfort, Phoenix forced himself to slightly curve up the corners of his lips as he graciously inclined his head towards the lawyer.

“So you’re…”

“Fine! I-I’m fine!” Apollo rasped, sounding as though he were being strangled by his tie. Phoenix couldn’t help but chuckle slightly with amusement and couldn’t resist ribbing him ever so slightly.

Hey, how many opportunities to have a good guffaw do I get nowadays, anyway?

“Ah…Mr. Fine, is it?” He deadpanned. “I do seem to remember you having an odd name.”

The red attorney’s nerves were at a peak, and he seemed to sense he was already screwing things up majorly. Phoenix took pity on the younger man and flashed him a sympathetic look, as if to say “fret not, I was once in your shoes too.”

“Um…are you sure you’re okay? I mean, with me?” Apollo asked anxiously. “Mr. Gavin is a top-notch attorney. And he’s your friend! So why…?” His words trailed off as Phoenix’s expression turned mysterious.

“…you’ll see.”

Apollo sensed the portentous sentiment behind that statement and gulped. Phoenix caught the action, and his somber countenance turned reassuring.

“You can do it,” he said kindly. “Be confident.”

Apollo just kept stammering incoherent ramblings, about how sorry he was regarding Phoenix’s current plight until mercifully, the older man cut him off.

“It’s time. Shall we?”

“Y-yes, sir,” Apollo stuttered. Realizing that this was the first time he ever said those words to anyone other than his mentor, Apollo began to get a grip on his resolve as he entered the courtroom for the first time as a defense attorney.

1. I need to focus. First trial, here comes Justice!

Apollo Justice and Kristoph Gavin
District Court
Courtroom No. 2
April 20, 2026, 10:00 AM

At 10 o’clock, a very antsy Kristoph Gavin stood behind the defense’s bench next to a very sweaty Apollo Justice. He of voice like Nails on Chalkboard, Prosecutor Winston Payne and the judge were both of their respective benches.

In contrast to his own apprehensive state, the German couldn’t help but coolly note that the most relaxed-looking person in the room was Phoenix himself. He looked as passive and composed as ever as he waited for the whole trial to commence, in sharp contrast to Kristoph’s discomfiture, considering everything that was at stake. His apprentice wasn’t doing anything to help matters, quickly embarrassing himself in front of the judge, causing the kindly old man to shake his head in his typical bewildered fashion.

“Ahem. Mr. Gavin?”

“Yes, Your Honor?”

“I was under the impression that you would be heading up this case…?”

“That was my intention, yes,” Kristoph responded dryly, but then wisely opted to soften his tone. “However…a defense attorney must always cede to his client’s wishes. And my client specifically requested Mr. Justice.”

“Well, of course, he wants justice!” the judge replied as if this were an obvious statement. “But to entrust his case to this greenhorn…Why? I do not exaggerate when I say that you’re the best defense attorney in town, Mr. Gavin.”

Kristoph couldn’t help but preen slightly at having his ego stroked in such a satisfying manner.

As the drained and disheveled Phoenix then took the stand, there was a loud cacophony within the gallery as they took sight of him. The judge seemed genuinely unhappy to see the former attorney under such circumstances, although the prosecution appeared positively giddy.

“This is truly an unfortunate turn of events,” the judge lamented. “I’m sorry we had to meet again under these circumstances. Long time no see, Mr. Wright.”

“Let’s put the past behind us, shall we?” Phoenix shrugged. “These days I’m merely Phoenix Wright, piano player.”

“I won’t speak of it further, then,” the old man agreed amicably. “If the prosecution would be so kind as to explain the charges. Mr. Payne?

“To think,” squawked Mr. Payne. “I saw you enter this room a fresh attorney, and now I’ll see you leave in chains.”

“Ah, Winston Payne. Subtle as ever I see,” Phoenix deadpanned.

“Ahem,” Mr. Payne cleared his throat. “The crime occurred at the Borscht Bowl Club … a Russian restaurant. The defendant, Phoenix Wright, took the victim, a customer…and he hit him! Wham! On the head! Smack! Killed him cold!”

There’s no need to be so dramatic, Payne. Kristoph thought wryly as the prosecutor continued with his theatrical summary. I think we get the point.

His gaze slid over to his apprentice, who was positively drenched in perspiration. Frowning slightly, as his motto was never let them see you sweat, Kristoph attempted to offer him a few more pointers to ease him and explain the poker game. Then, attempting to sound soothing, he abstractedly decided to use poetic verse in describing the “cards wreathed in blue flame” that the men used to play that fateful night.

Apollo nodded his understanding of everything Kristoph attempted to give them tutelage in and then proceeded to press his client on nearly every succinct statement he gave, and an eerily identical fashion to the way Phoenix himself had done back in his defense attorney days with witnesses. Despite his visible nerves, the young lawyer aptly made enough of the correct inquiries to extract the fact that despite the underground nature of the poker game, it was still a legal competition, as no actual betting money changed hands. The blond man couldn’t help but feel an unexpected sense of pride at his assistant’s diligence. Perhaps this wouldn’t turn out so badly after all.

“This competition you’re talking about…” The judge said slowly. “I believe the court understands the nature of the game sufficiently.”

“Th-That’s right!” Apollo squeaked. “It was a simple game, after all!”

“Are you sure?” The judge asked.

“Huh?” The defense attorney stared at the robed man blankly.

“People are not murdered over simple games, Mr. Justice.”

Obviously, Kristoph smiled smugly to himself. The judge has never before played Monopoly…

“Defendant,” the judge turned to his one-time favored defense lawyer. “You were in the room the very moment the crime occurred, yet you claim no connection to the crime?”

At this, the defendant gave his customary smirk, the very one which Kristoph had come to genuinely loathe with every fiber of his being, as exemplified that incomprehensible exuded smugness that made it look as though the disgraced other man was always one step ahead of the game.

“Now that’s strange,” the accused murmured.

“What’s strange?” The judge looked baffled.

“I was testifying about the competition that night,” Phoenix pointed out. “Asking me about the crime at this point is against the rules, Your Honor.”

Now the judge looked completely dumbfounded. It had evidently slipped his mind that the bedraggled-looking witness on the stand had once been a very prominent Ace Attorney. Phoenix quirked a half-smile and raised a brow towards the defense bench.

“Of course,” He drawled. “I expected to hear a cry of Objection! from the defense…”

Apollo looked completely aghast by this subtle-as-a-Mack-truck critique from his idol, whilst Kristoph regarded him with grave concern, both for the sake of the young man’s ego as well as the case outcome. He groaned inwardly.

This is going to be a long day indeed…

“Don’t despair yet, Justice,” he smiled encouragingly.

“S-Sir?” Apollo stammered, still completely unraveled. Kristoph decided it was time for him to take the reins and turned his attention towards his adversary.

“Wright, there’s something I’d like made clear. Namely, your connection to the case at hand. And I’d like to hear it from you.”

Phoenix paused only for a split second, but it was long enough for the perceptive defense attorney to catch the gleam in his eye, and it caused a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach, and he cursed himself for having dismissed it as mere smug arrogance previously.

That Hurensohn – he knows! Kristoph realized, drawing in a sharp breath. He knows full well who really murdered “Shadi Smith” that night! He forced himself to take tranquil, even breaths. No matter, though. There’s nothing he can do about it! The fate of this rests on my protégé’s rookie shoulders, after all. And I know my assistant will do right by me and unearth the lies, exposing this degenerate as the true murderer in an act of pure “justice.”

“Sure… Why not?” The hobo shrugged nonchalantly.

“Very well,” the judge said. “The defendant will amend his testimony.”

“I plead silence regarding the murder,” the card shark stated flatly. “But I will say I never touched the murder weapon.”

“Objection!” Shouted Apollo. “So you say you didn’t touch the murder weapon…this grape juice bottle?… Right?”

“So I said,” Phoenix replied calmly.

“Something the matter, Mr. Justice?” The judge asked.

“Hee, hee, hee,” Mr. Payne cackled gleefully. “Too bad our new defense attorney never learned how to play dumb.”

“What’s this, Mr. Payne?” The judge demanded.

“I examined the bottle in question,” Mr. Payne told the court. “And it was covered with the defendant’s fingerprints!”

The courtroom stirred excitedly.

“OBJECTION!” Apollo yelled at full decibel level, right near his mentor’s ear. Kristoph winced slightly

Note to self when resuming training of my assistant, after all, is said and done: Get him to learn the concept of an inside voice!

“No need to shout, Mr. Justice!” The judge exclaimed. “I can hear you just fine!”

The rookie’s face turned the same shade as his suit.

“Excess yelling can damage the judge’s ears…and our case,” Kristoph reprimanded mildly. His apprentice nodded, then continued.

“Any…Anyway! What’s so strange about fingerprints on a bottle in a restaurant?” He demanded.

“Well, that’s true,” the judge conceded. “The prints alone don’t prove he did it.”

“Oh, they wouldn’t prove a thing,” Mr. Payne interjected.  “If they were normal fingerprints!”

“Huh!?” Exclaimed the horn-haired lad.

“But the fingerprints on the murder weapon were upside-down!” Mr. Payne shouted.

“Upside down?” Apollo wondered. “What does that mean?”

“It means he was holding the bottle inverted!” Mr. Payne snarled. “And there can only be one reason for that…Yes. To brain someone with the bottle.”

“Auuuuuuuuuuuugh! M-Mr. Gavin!” Apollo wailed, looking distraught. “I think things just took a turn for the worse!”

“Oh?” Kristoph answered mildly. “I see no problem, Mr. Justice.”

“Huh?” he said blankly.

“The only thing that matters is the truth,” the German stated firmly. “There’s a good reason for everything. You’ll see.”

“Defendant!” The judge yelled. “Can you explain your fingerprints on this bottle to the court!?”

“I stand by my plea of silence regarding the murder…” Phoenix responded in a monotone, pulling his beanie down over his eyes so they were hidden from view. “For now.”

“Hmm … not very cooperative, are you? This could hurt your case,” The judge warned.

“I’m sure he’s uncooperative because he’s hiding something!” Squealed Mr. Payne. “There must be some reason…”

“Objection!” Kristoph interjected. “Your Honor. You seem to have forgotten something.”

“And what might that be, Mr. Gavin?”

“On the night of the crime,” he said smoothly. “Who was it who reported the murder to the police?”

“Reported…?” The judge echoed.

“Well, that was the defendant, Mr. Wright,” admitted Mr. Payne. “But still, that…”

“R-Really!?” The judge snapped.

“Erm, yes, well…” Mr. Payne looked as discombobulated as he sounded. “According to the case file…The murder was reported from the scene, by a call from the defendant’s cell phone.”

“Near the scene?” Queried Apollo.

“Let’s take a look at the murder scene, shall we?” Mr. Payne pushed his glasses up his nose. “The victim was murdered in a small room in a basement two floors down from ground level. Of course, cell phones can’t get reception so far down. The defendant used the stairs in this hallway to go above the ground…The call came from the first floor of the restaurant.”

“I see…” The judge sounded thoughtful. “And this is the phone that made the call?”

“The defendant could have just fled the scene of the crime if he so chose,” Kristoph pointed out. “Yet, he fulfilled his duty as a citizen and reported it to the authorities. And you claim he is being “uncooperative? ”

“Urk!” Was Mr. Payne’s sole response.

“I think the prosecution has toyed with our client enough for the time being,” the German declared.

“T-Toyed?” Mr. Payne stammered. “I assure you, no one is more serious about…”

“What was it you said?” Kristoph countered. “The defendant was allegedly in the room the very moment that the crime occurred. How can you possibly know this?”

“That’s a good question!” Asserted the judge. “How indeed!”

“The answer is simple, Your Honor,” Kristoph gave a knowing smirk. “The prosecution has a decisive witness.”

“Hee, hee, hee,” Mr. Payne chortled. “You’re as good as they say you are.”

Kristoph turned to his apprentice. “Everything up until now has been a warm-up, Justice. Are you ready?”