Maya Fey and Trio of Teens
London
July 20, 2026, 7:55 PM
I’m going to kill Nick.
Plotting the grisly demise of her lover was the sole thought on Maya’s mind as she and her teenage troop settled into the taxicab, which was en route to The Ritz restaurant.
Heaving a gusty, long-suffering sigh while leaning her aching skull back against the passenger headrest, the practically zonked necromancer mentally condemned Phoenix Wright to an eternally dammed purgatory for the umpteenth time that diurnal.
Her morbid pleasure of envisioning her partner’s unmerciful Chinese Water Torture was abruptly jolted by the vociferous yelp from the crowded backseat. It’d come from her daughter’s unfortunate suitor, who’d gotten sandwiched in the middle seat.
“Strewth!” Luke complained loudly as the cab suddenly turned a sharp corner, resulting in Layton’s unassuming daughter colliding heavily against his right shoulder. “Blarg! Can’t you budge up, Flora? Don’t you know that my arms are right sore from playing bleeding porter for you shopaholic chits all day?!”
“Objection!” His girlfriend interjected irritably. “It was mostly the other girls’ stuff you were carting around, Luke! The one thing of mine you carried was this single dress that Anneliese talked me into buying! And I only listened to her because she claimed pastel colors made me look like a baby, and to wear them to a fancy restaurant at night would be passé!”
Ah yes, to add to her compounding list of sins, the self-declared fashionista guru somehow persuaded my normally low-maintenance little girl to buy the costliest Stella McCartney on the rack! Talk about your bad influence!
The psychic restlessly plucked at the aubergine hemline of the silky Vivian Westwood she was wearing. Somehow, Franziska’s pushy yet persuasive niece had also wrangled Maya into purchasing this stunning, yet equally pricey, sleeveless number, as well! Katharina’s bossy offspring had declared that the Master couldn’t possibly buy her little girl something new, but then show up at the posh eatery “in just any old thing” herself!
“The Ritz is la crème de la crème, Maya!” The blonde had loftily decreed. “Flora informed me it’s the finest of British ingredients cooked, using Escoffier-inspired classical recipes! And it’s also the world’s first and only hotel to be awarded a Royal Warrant by HRH the Prince of Wales for its services to banqueting and catering! One simply cannot commit the crime of vogue faux pas and be seen resembling some sort of tatterdemalion!”
Thenceforth was village leader had been shamed into spending an unplanned four figures … for just
two brand new – and unnecessary! – outfits… to augment the Fey girls already overflowing portmanteaus!
I swear to God, Anneliese spends money as if it grows on trees! She grumbled internally. Just because I can afford the extra funds to occasionally splash out on something nice for me and my little girl, it jolly well doesn’t mean I share the little snot’s laissez-faire attitude towards hard-earned dollars! The last thing I want is for Pearly to grow up being spoiled and entitled while having no appreciation for the value of money!
“I only wanted to be more classy and grown-up to impress you, Luke Triton!” The affronted acolyte was virtuously declaring to the sheepish English youth. “And for your information, the sole reason you had to hold my bags was that I was holding Feyt! So take that!”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be whinging on!” Luke seemed duly chastened. “It was my sworn duty as a gentleman to assist you ladies – I’m easy, and it’s all hunky dory! It’s just that I was so bogged down lugging about Anneliese and Flora’s hefty bags since the former bought out half of Oxford Street…”
“Humph!” Pearl scowled. “I’m just glad we were able to get back in time to drop our puppy back at the hotel so he could take a nice nap. After all his activity, the last thing Feyt needs to listen to is the griping of his grumpy Daddy!”
Maya squeezed her peepers shut, as the teens’ boisterous clamor was only compounding the throbbing headache she’d been harboring all day.
Not that anyone cared, but all I’ve wanted all day is one of London’s finest Chocolate Delights, sprinkled with cinnamon on top! After undergoing today’s ordeal, nothing but a decadent hot chocolate with skim milk, whipped cream, chocolate drizzle, and chocolate shavings would help narcotize my frayed nerves! That …and being able to kvetch into Nick’s sympathetic ear about my never-ending story of chaperone suffering – if only the Old Man had answered his bloody phone!
“Please don’t quarrel!” Flora begged, flushing guiltily. “Luke, I didn’t bump you on purpose! I really am sorry – it’s this blasted gown that’s to blame! Drrr! Though, I say, can I thank you for kindly getting your bum off my skirt, mate? You’ll smoosh it!”
“I don’t give a toss!” Layton’s former apprentice was done with being chivalrous. “This is bloomin’ naff – you’re hogging up so much space, I may as well have Pearl in my lap! Incidentally, love…”
He cast a tender glance at his petulant other half.
“You should know you don’t need to try to impress me at all, because I’ll always think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world, no matter what you wear! That being said, tonight my Princess Pearl has achieved not only a new level of sophistication but is an absolute vision in that chic black pinafore.”
The American girl beamed prettily and blushed, her annoyance vanquished. Luke kissed her lightly on the nose, then turned back to glower crossly at his childhood friend.
“My girlfriend is wearing a new garment as well, and no thanks to you, Flora, I’m practically on top of it because of that Scarlet O’Hara stonker you insisted on wearing!”
The professor’s daughter ignored his quibbling as she smoothed out the wide skirt of her new crinoline frock, giving him no choice but to grudgingly shift closer to Feyt’s mother. His griping was not without merit, as her Gone with the Wind number truly did take up most of the space in the backseat. The result was the poor lad was tightly jammed against his mercifully tiny sweetheart, who was already wedged between her boyfriend and the automobile’s side door like a sardine in a can.
“Stop being so stroppy, Luke! We’re less than 5 minutes away from The Ritz, so quit your grousing!” The British girl scoffed at the bloke, then smiled repentantly at the squashed spirit medium. “Forgive my choice of gown for making you a fashion victim, Pearly!”
Flora tittered at her own joke, then winked impishly.
“Although I reckon there are fates far worse than being shoved into up-close snogging proximity with your Special Someone, hey?”
Maya gave up on attempting to zone out the constant youthful yapping, opened her bleary eyes, and glared down at the cell phone in her hand, knowing better than to bother attempting another wasted effort to contact her beau. After all, she had been attempting to do so all day, but to no avail – save for that one time the phone had been picked up … and she’d soon fervently wished it hadn’t!
Flashback:
Earlier that afternoon…
Maya Fey and the Lay-Worth Fan Club
“Hello?” Maya began hesitantly when it sounded as if Phoenix had finally decided to pick up his phone after ringing it for the umpteenth time. “Nick?”
“Hullo, you’ve reached Mr. Phoenix Wright’s cell phone!” An unknown lass chirped in reply. “He’s unavailable right now… May I take a message?”
“It’s Maya Fey calling – who the heck is this?” Asked the bewildered spirit medium, wondering why the female’s English cadence rang a slightly familiar bell. “Did something happen to my Nick?”
“Oh good heavens, not at all!” The formerly playful tone became earnest. “I regret making you think something catastrophic occurred and that I’d knocked off Mr. Wright’s mobile; I’m merely babysitting it for him! Don’t you remember me, Maya? It’s Jean Greyerl from Labyrinthia!”
The village leader’s mind raced as she recollected the enigmatic boy/girl who’d been accused of witchcraft and had been serving undercover as Newton Belduke’s butler.
“Er, yes, of course. Hello, Jean,” she responded guardedly, still perplexed. “Do you mind telling me why Nick’s phone isn’t with him?”
“How now? You just referred to Mr. Wright as my Nick?” Ignoring the question, Jean’s intonation turned slightly coy. “Pray tell, is Sir Blue Knight a trifle more than just your co-worker nowadays?”
“Um yes … but…”
“Mutt’s nuts!” Jean trilled, cutting off the American mid-sentence. “See?! I told you! And you didn’t believe me when I sussed that the ever-fit Mr. Wright was more than just Maya’s boss, Ridelle!”
First Jean, now Ridelle? The psychic blinked in surprise. As in Ridelle Mystere – the puzzle-keeper librarian from days of yore? What is this, the Euro Trip turned Labyrinthia Reunion Tour?!
“Bloody cheeky to be biting your arm off over another woman’s fellow, like some sort of slag!” A dry female countered in the background. “I was the first to realize Mr. Wright was spoken for – but respected his privacy and didn’t wish to broadcast his personal matters like you just did, you bloody twit!”
“You’re so full of it!”
“I am not!”
“Bleedin’ tosh! You’re truly going to claim you were in the know about Mr. Wright and Maya, way back then?”
“Quite! And surely Mr. Wright’s lady friend doesn’t relish your fawning over her swain, so quit acting like such a bleeding tart, Jean! Besides, weren’t you arse over elbow for the oh-so-dashing Miles Edgeworth?”
“Shut your mush! Noticing that like a fine wine, a man has only improved with age doesn’t imply I’m up for it and want to shag him, you sodding, presumptuous cow!” Jean retorted defensively. “Mr. Wright may be disa Bev but he is merely an old mate of mine! And for the record, I do fancy Mr. Edgeworth – I’d take him, warts and all! That man is the best talent to ever grace these courthouse doors in yonks!”
“What a load of cobblers!” Ridelle snapped back. “Mr. Edgeworth is a right minger next to the peng Sir Layton!”
“Clear off! How dare you mud-sling at the dishy barrister?!” Jean screeched indignantly. “Your munter Professor can’t hold a candle to my lush Mr. Edgeworth!”
“Oh, belt up, you slapper!”
Neither girl noticed that during their nonsensical row, the disgruntled Maya had long since hung up.
End Flashback
Maya Fey and Trio of Teens
The Ritz Restaurant, London
I suppose I’m relieved neither girl has the hots for Nick – but the other two guys had better watch out! Though while I can appreciate Miles and the Professor having new additions to their respective fan-girl clubs, that call was almost as draining as the rest of today’s ‘excursions’ with the world’s most recalcitrant, overindulged Fräulein Diva!
Maya blew upward at her fringe in frustration and spewed a litany of curses under her breath.
For Mystic Ami’s sake, just how am I supposed to notify my significant other that his best friend’s sister-in-law and niece are going to be our mystery guests at dinner and that Nick had best ensure Miles’s attendance tonight – come hell or high water – when the blasted man hasn’t answered even one of my countless phone calls or texts?!
It was for this unpardonable sin that the irate, exhausted Kurain leader decided the final murder victim would ultimately be none other than her unsuspecting boyfriend!
Surely the homicide would be justified by any sympathetic jury, which England was so famous for? Especially after the jurors heard all about her beyond hellacious day of being led around by the nose by a triad of boisterous, adolescent girls, one henpecked, albeit amiable, teenage boy, and an adorable but very yippy puppy!
The Master had shown remarkably saintly restraint in biting back the obloquy threatening to spew from her lips and resisting the violent predispositions threatening to consume her! She’d spent the entire afternoon with the grim contemplations of either throwing herself headfirst into the nearby Thames River or more temptingly, doing so with an ironclad headlock around certain truculent members of her sightseeing group! The spectacularly dramatic homicide/suicide act would have surely made front-page headlines on all the local penny-dreadfuls!
It was for these reasons the normally sunny, raven-haired woman was now – on top of being unspeakably fatigued and unfathomably famished – in an ultra-murderous mood by the time the taxi finally pulled in front of The Ritz.
Maya hurriedly paid the fare and rushed inside, not even waiting for the others to catch up, as she hadn’t yet shifted from bloodthirsty, Phoenix-throttling mode!
“Just wait till I get my hands on you, Nick! Your first course is going to be a knuckle sandwich!”
The couple wisely departed from the opposite car door, as Flora’s impractical garb required the cabbie’s physical assistance for her to exit the vehicle!
The paunchy, middle-aged man was sweating profusely as he tugged at his passenger’s puffy-sleeved arms in futile attempts to extricate her oversized hoop skirts, which were stubbornly caught within the inside rear door frame.
The chap smiled diffidently at the struggling driver, who now had one foot on the pavement, and the other braced against the side of the automobile in his continued unsuccessful efforts at yanking the squirming Flora out.
“My arms are as limp as cooked spaghetti from my bellboy duties today, else I’d offer my assistance, good man.” Luke gallantly placed a hand on Pearl’s back as he ushered her toward the entrance. “I’m so fagged, I reckon I’ll have trouble even lifting my eating irons at the table tonight, as it were!”
Muttering a daisy chain of expletives into the night, the poor man continued grunting and straining with all his might to liberate the now flailing and mortified Flora.
“Argh! You two may need to nick some butter from the restaurant to grease this lass out of here!” He wheezed, his broad face red with exertion. “Cor love a duck! Me bleedin’ back!”
With the last of his strength, the driver gave one final tug at the girl, this time successfully.
“Eeeeeee!”
A high-pitched shriek came from the newly freed brunette as she came ricocheting out of the car like a circus cannonball, catapulting right into the unprepared cabbie’s arms and sending him flying, ass over teakettle, back onto the cobblestone and landing with a pained groan onto his rump.
“I’m alright, mates!” Flora called triumphantly from her cushy landing spot, which was atop the ample mid-section of the driver, who was bellyaching how such a tiny girl seemed to weigh a ton! “You two go on ahead!”
The couple barely contained their snickers but obliged. They’d just reached The Ritz doors when Pearl suddenly heard her mobile chime.
“Oh, dear.” A frown marred her smooth forehead as she reached into her evening clutch and saw the message. “Hold on, Luke. It’s a text from Anneliese about tonight…”
Phaya and Professor Layton
The Ritz, London
July 20, 2026, 8:02 PM
Regardless of how much money was now in her fat bank account, The Burger Queen was, and always would be, a ramen/burger girl at heart. However, given her prestigious position in society as Master of Kurain, and having been briefly engaged to a famous billionaire, Maya had long since gotten accustomed to upscale lodgings and environments whenever she traveled. Not to say that she still didn’t get impressed by or failed to be appreciative of posh surroundings as much as anyone else, but unlike Phoenix, she certainly didn’t get overwhelmed by them in any way, shape, or form.
However, the luxury of the world-famous Ritz, amongst its marble pillars and bejeweled chandeliers, was a whole class unto itself!
As she entered the venue, she noted that ambiance aside, it was The Ritz staff that most convincingly created the palatial sense all the more. All had their white gloves tucked into their epaulettes and another pair of bellhops opened the double doors for each arriving guest to the frock-coated flunkies and the chambermaids in their pinnies and caps.
Since she was admittedly dressed to the nines, the spirit medium couldn’t help but feel pride in her appearance. She beamed upon seeing the smiling, approving nods of the dapper doormen and concierge that she passed while striding into the dazzlingly grand, lavishly decorated dining room.
Once inside, she couldn’t help but emit a small gasp of delight at its regal splendor.
The detail, presentation, and service were truly second to none, promising patrons upon entry that they would enjoy a truly memorable dining experience. A live String Quintet was playing in the corner of the beautiful dining room, with its grand velvet curtains boasting a baroque-style, gilded salon décor, with ceiling frescoes, luxuriant furniture, and fabrics, softly lit, opulent candelabrum and looped golden garlands. The rich, wine-colored velvet chairs and matching carpeting against cream and gold décor transported one back in time to an elegant and enchanting era.
As the Maitre d’Hotel escorted her to their table, which, like all the others, was flanked with the finest linen, crystal glasses, and silverware, Maya noticed their seating location allowed them to enjoy a prime, breath-taking view of The Royal Green Park.
Even though he and Miles were sitting with their backs turned towards her, she easily spotted Layton’s tell-tale top hat even amongst the sea of diners. Phoenix’s seat was facing her as she approached, and he quickly stood up when he spotted his inamorata, his hand already reaching out for hers in greeting.
At first sight of her boyfriend, whose demise she’d spent the majority of the day contemplating, the necromancer’s anger fizzled, like cotton candy in the rain.
Never before had the former King of the Turnabout been so handsome.
Although it’d been just over a month, she had nearly forgotten the impact Phoenix had on her whenever he was in a suit – or how much she’d missed seeing him decked out in finery. The last time Maya had seen her lover dressed up in formal gear had been at her canceled nuptials. Back then, he’d donned Miles’s borrowed apparel, which although hadn’t belonged to him, had nevertheless made the spiky-haired man absolutely swoon-worthy to her besotted gaze.
Once again, the ex-attorney was dressed up all in noir but this was different; the attire appeared to have been made specifically for him. The black, slim-fitting, two-piece hugged his broad shoulders in all the right places, showcasing his powerful torso and muscular arms. The classically tailored pants featured two side bands in bonded Napa lambskin, and draped obsequiously over his lean hips and long legs, with the hems falling into perfect position over the tops of his evening leather shoes.
The diviner felt her lusty appetite increasing – which now had nothing to do with her previous gnawing hunger for edible sustenance!
As she stared deeply into those beloved zaffre orbs, the background seemed to fade away, and it briefly felt as if they were the only ones in the room.
Layton noticed the couple’s wordless but heartwarming exchange out of the corner of his eye, and reflexively squelched the faint melancholic nostalgia it brought back as he raised his teacup to his lips in an effort to hide his knowing smile.
I believe that when two people are deeply in love, it is evident in their gaze toward one another. Their eyes show admiration, attraction, and strong feelings for each other. They constantly smile and have a twinkle in their eyes. Even without speaking, there is a special connection between them. This is what I see in these two individuals right here. It has always been and always will be there.
Maya’s heart fluttered as she saw Phoenix’s loving face. Despite the dim lighting, the glow of appreciation on his mien, while he drank in her appearance, was as clear as day.
“You look beautiful, my love.”
He took her hand, raised it to his lips, and placed a kiss atop it. Then, noticing the veneration in her gaze, he smiled shyly and scratched the back of his neck.
“Um, do you like the new suit?”
Her lassitude was long forgotten, replaced best by the English term of being positively randy! Forget handsome – her inamorato was downright delectable in that get-up! She was nearly salivating now, and for once it wasn’t due to being ravenous for food!
“Wow, Nick.” Mindful of their friends’ presence, the village leader forced herself to keep her vocal approbation for her beau’s appearance to a publicly appropriate level – for now. “You clean up pretty darn well! As the Brits would say, you come across as quite tidy!”
The pianist’s blush deepened endearingly, and he bashfully ducked his head, making the Kurain head fall in love with him even more. As he pulled out her chair so she could take her seat beside him, she squeezed his hand under the table, then graciously inclined her head in greeting Miles and Layton, a teasing smile on her lips as she addressed Phoenix once more.
“So, did you filch one of my credit cards from my purse to pay for those threads, Nick? Or just use your good looks to pay the bill? Don’t tell me we owe Edgy yet another IOU?”
“None of the above, Maya,” Miles reassured her. “We came across your old mate, Zacharias Barnham, today at the courthouse. It was he who insisted on purchasing your swain’s smart bespoke ensemble – custom-tailored right at the shop – that you’re presently admiring. The good man told Wright to hang the cost and cease any protesting about his efforts to repay an old debt. ”
“Yeah, Barnham also insisted on shelling out for new footwear, tie, and cufflinks, as well,” Phoenix inserted with a rueful grin as he held out his spiffily accessorized wrists. “I tried telling him he was spending too much – that I’d have been fine going to a department store like Harrods, but he was hell-bent on taking me to this really high-end designer joint! We’re talking glossy marble floors, glass box displays of shoes, accessories, and cases, along with ornate paneling on the walls!”
“Said joint was the shop of London’s own Alexander McQueen, located on Savile Row,” Miles elucidated. “It is the defined embodiment of gentlemen’s tailoring. That suit cost a pretty penny, seeing as how it was cut in Italy from a wool and mohair-blend cloth, providing pin-sharp style for any occasion.”
“He should know! Edgeworth the Clothes Connoisseur was assuredly doing his suit homework today,” the newly stylish musician confided to his swain in an undertone. “Although if he bought anything, I never did get the chance to see it. There was one point where he was skimming through the colored suit selection, then whisked a salesman off somewhere for a spell, all hush-hush – as though secretly updating an autopsy report!”
Maya clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle, and the prosecutor glanced up sharply, pausing his conversation with the Professor about the riveting world of tea sets to narrow his eyes in his best friend’s direction as the card shark continued his tale.
“Then, while I was getting my suit measured and tailored, he stole away next door – but returned only to have only gotten himself, of all things, a new cravat–”
“Not just any new cravat, Wright,” Miles cut in, having caught the tail end of the conversation. He made a big show of proudly preening his trademarked frills as he spoke. “I decided to switch from my traditional snow white to more refined porcelain. This make was exclusively woven, printed, and handcrafted here in England, courtesy of The Cravat Club.”
“A brilliant choice of neckwear and haberdashery indeed, Mr. Edgeworth,” Layton nodded approvingly. “I shop there often, myself. The Cravat Club is in a league of its own with its fine selection of men’s clothing and accessories. It offers an impressive plethora of designs to suit every man’s taste and style. Moreover, they take great pride in the quality and artisanship of their products using the finest silk, and specialize in British-made cravats, neckties, scarves, and pocket squares for the style-conscious and well-groomed gentleman.”
“I’ve never been a wastrel when traveling abroad, but I know quality when I see it, and this certainly qualified.” Miles took a bite of the Norfolk crab with pickled cucumber, egg yolk, and Oscietra caviar that was sitting amongst other succulent-looking appetizers on the table. “The Professor and I took the liberty of ordering a variety of first courses for us all to partake in whilst we waited for everyone to arrive, Maya. Please feel free to help yourself…”
The barrister’s words trailed off, as the famished Master was already demolishing her second helping of roast scallop with smoked eel, apple, and watercress, and was already greedily reaching for the terrine of goose liver with peach and almonds.
“Ahem, as I was saying … bon appétit,” the prosecutor finished awkwardly, unable to fully mask the slight awe in his voice. He hadn’t been expecting his friend’s characteristic gluttony to be on such rapt display in the same fine eatery where the Royal Family was known to dine! “Wright, perhaps your hungry companion would also fancy the veal sweetbread with truffle, potato, and celeriac, as well?”
Phoenix coughed discreetly and shook his head.
“I’m not sure Maya would be eager to ingest that particular dish if she truly knew what sweetbread actually was…”
“Nick, I’m hungry enough to remain blissfully ignorant about whatever is in this resplendently presented fare, ergo, it’s going in my stomach!” The spirit medium was already reaching over her reluctant boyfriend and helping herself to the dish. “Believe me – if you know what’s good for you, you won’t deny me anything right now!”
“So you’ll eat shi-shi, frou-frou, unidentified gourmet food, so long as it’s not French haute cuisine?” Her boyfriend gaped at her in disbelief. “Since when did this sudden turnabout come into play?”
She glared at her boyfriend as she chewed, suddenly reminded of her day from Abaddon, and how she’d been unable to bend his ear about it!
“Ever since the completely buggered Maya Fey, known for her famously salubrious appetite, was cruelly forced into running after a quad of boisterous teenagers and an overactive puppy on a nearly empty stomach all bloody day!”
“How uncharacteristically abstemious of you.” Miles arched an amused eyebrow. “Might I inquire what circumstances led to such a science-fiction-worthy circumstance?”
“Indeed, I imagine four youngsters full of beans would be quite a handful. I know my Flora alone would be enough to make anyone right knackered.” Layton eyed Maya sympathetically as she shoveled the langoustine with fennel and verbena into her mouth. “But didn’t you at least stop for lunch?”
“Oh, we did,” Maya informed him darkly. “A certain someone in the group insisted we go to an Indian restaurant and then took the liberty of ordering for us all!”
Flashback:
Maya Fey and Trio of Teens
Lunchtime, London
WTF?! – Wow Tasty Food! – Indian Cuisine
“Ameliorate yourself, Maya!” The bumptious Anneliese lectured when the Master refrained from immediately digging into the aromatic, exotic dishes placed on the table. “You can’t keep those bucolic Kurain views and xenophobic ways of Yankee mentality forever! England boasts a high South Asian population and hence its restaurants have some of the most superlative, exotic dishes in the world that are just to die for!”
Your family and country are to die for, girl-child! Maya thought grouchily, conveniently forgetting that as a foodie, she had made similar broad proclamations in the past, herself. Food is for eating!
However, having spent the past few hours being dragged around Oxford and Bond Street so the German girl could go on a shopping spree and giving both Katharina’s charge chard and her companions a workout, the spirit medium was hungry enough to eat a horse!
“At least try the chili beef,” Anneliese coaxed. “Pearly mentioned to me that you’re a big fan of burgers. Consider this the Maharashtra equivalent with just a little bit of kick to it, minus the bun!”
South Asian burger? The Burger Queen eagerly reached for the steaming dish closest to her. Yum!
Encouraged, the spirit medium shoveled in a big forkful of the pro-offered dish – and as she felt the flavors instantaneously singe the insides of her mouth – wildly pondered if she would be the next spirit that’d need channeling!
“It takes a real Malayalee to polish off a plate of Chili Beef without feeling the heat,” the German girl remarked idly, taking a sip of her mango lassi, evidently feeling none of the burnt skin peeling away from the roof of her mouth, which the older woman was undergoing! “For others, it can be quite a fiery rendezvous. Nonetheless, it sure does take your taste buds for one Hölle of a ride!”
A ride?! Sure! From the tongue, the palate, the food pipe, the tracks … it’s as if the Ghost Rider’s blazing down through my system… charring down everything in his way! The panting Master was positive if she were to directly breathe on any of her fellow diners right then, she’d damn well give them a sunburn! I’m surprised Malayalees still exist in Maharashtra!
“Perhaps try the pork vindaloo, Mystic Maya?” Pearl offered innocently – as a staunch vegetarian, she’d been spared having to eat any of the meaty infernos, and was happily enjoying the less fiery lentil soup, vegetable curries, and naan. “Maybe Indian beef isn’t for you?”
“Vindaloo is quite lush!” Flora enthused. “We had an Indian cook growing up, and she said the longer you keep the murraba bottled up, the better it tastes. That way, when it’s finally used, the meat gets properly marinated and tastes even more scrummy the next day.”
The woman was smart enough to take a smaller initial bite this time of the second dish. Nevertheless, she instantly began spluttering.
Lengthier marinade?! She frantically reached for the milk Luke hastily poured her. I don’t know what difference it makes, because the dish is so hot that it feels like shoveling lava balls into your cake hole!
“Still no good?” Anneliese asked sweetly when the diviner had ceased gasping for air and downed the entire glass in one gulp. “Hmmm … perhaps try the butter chicken? I mean, everyone likes chicken, am I right?”
She caught Maya’s skeptical expression, visible even while wiping her streaming eyes.
“Trust me, Butter Chicken isn’t spicy at all! By now, I know better than to offer you my Chicken 65! According to popular belief, this delicacy was the 65th item on a menu at a military canteen in South India, and hence the name.” The blonde grinned mischievously. “Going by the food orgasm it evokes, this delicacy should have been named chicken 69!”
Maya had just taken a bite of what was allegedly the non-spicy chicken, and immediately choked – although this time it was hard to decipher if it was due to Anneliese’s out-of-the-blue racy joke…
…Or the fact that as soon as she’d ingested the unexpected scalding bite, the server had rushed over and apologetically informed them that the cook had accidentally served chili chicken, made with bhut jolokia chili, instead!
Ja – HEEE – zus … JOE – seff … and MARY! The psychic quickly dove into the ever-prepared Pearl’s bag for an antacid tablet, as she could feel the heartburn building within her already. Before marinating and simmering the chicken in this chili paste, the poor chicken was likely killed by force-feeding it these damn bonfire chilies! It went to perdition twice, the poor sod!
While shooting daggers in the direction of the somehow benign Katharina’s demon offspring, Maya mentally resigned herself to leaving the aptly named WTF Restaurant with only three bites of searing meat in her belly to tide her over until dinner…while trying to fathom why justifiable homicide wasn’t a valid legal defense option in the UK….
End Flashback
Professor Layton and Wrightworth
The Ritz, London
July 20, 2026
The three men goggled in amazement as the necromancer as she finished her tale of woe – along with the rest of the remaining appetizers, which had supposedly been enough to tide over nine people!
“My poor Maya – being coerced into eating the other kind of hot, rather than haute cuisine!” Phoenix shuddered dramatically. “No thanks! Although if you don’t mind the consequential runny nose, watery eyes, and sweaty forehead, then sure, Indian food is a pure delight! Trucy dragged me out to Cowboys And Indians which is Indian/Tex Mex fusion just once – and that was enough! I tried their phaal curry chicken dish and I swear I could taste the sun!”
“Running sinuses would be welcome to the ulcer I could have easily gotten from that slop! Gimme French cow brains or frog legs any day!” The Master snarled, shoving another bite of food into her mouth. “That bhut jolokia could have killed me!”
“Bhut jolokia?” The polyhistor Miles furrowed his brow as he tried to place the name. “I believe that’s the official term for the hottest pepper in the world – otherwise known as the ghost pepper.”
“Bob’s your uncle!” She couldn’t mask the ornery sarcasm from her tone. “The next time you take out your backstabbing colleague for a treat, make sure you heavily tip the chef so that he’s generous with the use of the aptly named ghost pepper in your colleague’s dish! Assuming he doesn’t become part of the spectral world post-consuming, at the very least, you won’t have to stand the sight of him/her for at least a week! P.S. – fun fact: the government of India has used bhut jolokia grenades to safely immobilize terrorists!”
The lawyer tactfully kept mum about his own vengeful plot to sneak the lethal peppers into the treacherous Agent Lang’s food and smirked in response.
“Well then, I’d best not mention this killer capsaicin to Detective Skye,” Miles deadpanned. “For it seems she’s quite brassed off enough with Chief Prosecutor Payne and his brother already. I shouldn’t give her any ideas!”
“I’m afraid I never did fancy Indian nosh, myself. A trifle too spicy for my poor old taste buds, although my daughter and Luke are avid fans,” Layton chuckled good-naturedly. “However, the sweets and flatbreads are quite tasty.”
“They also help soothe your mouth when your gormless, inconsiderate company orders the spiciest dishes known to man!” Maya puffed out her cheeks at the memory. “All which leave you with a scorched tongue and no doubt sear off a quarter of your taste buds! I suppose I should be thankful I wasn’t writhing on the floor from my unwitting consumption of food that was ‘shove a fire extinguisher in my mouth’ levels of hot!”
“Gives a whole new meaning to the words: burn baby, burn!” Phoenix chortled. He was rewarded with a baleful glare by his girlfriend. “Oops! Just kidding, Maya!”
“Incidentally, where in blazes were you all day when I tried to call and gain your sympathetic ear, funny man?” She demanded crossly. “I know you guys left your mobiles with Jean and Ridelle while you were at the courthouse, but obviously, you didn’t spend the whole day there if Sir Lancelot took you shopping!”
“Phones are forbidden in the courtrooms, so we left them with the girls, and then I guess with all the excitement of running into Sir Lancelot and Sir Galahad, Edgeworth and I forgot them at the Old Bailey,” Phoenix confessed sheepishly, grateful that she seemed mollified by the explanation. “I’m sorry you couldn’t get a hold of me, my love. The Professor was kind enough to snag them for us since he had to go by there anyway.”
“I had business to attend to there, so it was no trouble at all. I have both of your mobiles right here, gentlemen.” The Englishman patted at his brown jacket pocket. “Shall I return them to you now?”
“Later,” Miles dismissed, with a wave of his hand as he peered at the menu. “It’s not like we need them here at the table. We have yet to even order our entrees. Where’s the rest of your lot, Maya?”
“Here we are!” Pearl exclaimed, rushing into the dining room, Flora and Luke in tow, and plonking herself down beside her cousin. “Sorry about the wait, everyone!”
“We had a bit of a scenario where everything nearly went pear-shaped,” Luke professed, smirking at the red-faced British lass. “Luckily the staff here is a blindingly helpful bunch!”
“Sorry, it was all my fault, Daddy!” Flora smiled guiltily at her father and was considerate enough to take a seat at the end of the table, as her wide skirts easily took up two seating spots. “The cab driver had a hard time getting me out of the taxi because of this dress, and then we needed some of the doormen to help fit me through the front doors of the restaurant by opening the other side so I could get into this place…”
“No worries,” Layton replied easily, smiling warmly at his daughter. “All that matters is that you’re here now. Flora, my dear, you look lovely, although I’m sure by now you may have ascertained that frock may not have been the most pragmatic attire.”
“It would now appear we’re only missing two,” Miles noted a tad impatiently, glimpsing down at his Rolex. It’d been a very long day, and he was still recovering from their nearly twilight festivities the night before and had zero desire to make this evening another late one. “How much longer do you reckon your mates will be?”
Maya stole a peek at Phoenix’s watch and saw it was 8:10, just as Pearl whispered in her ear.
“Anneliese texted me and told me they were running a bit late. Her mother was the speaker at the conference, and it ran a bit over time. She wasn’t sure exactly when they can get here! What are we to do?”
“We wait!” The psychic kept her voice as hushed as possible, to ensure nobody else – least of all the prosecutor! – ear-wigged on their conversation. “I told you it was how very important it was to get Miles and the Germans all together in the same room – because of undisclosed reasons. However, I couldn’t let either party know about who’d be in attendance tonight because I was trying to evade potential disaster!”
“I’m trying not to go to spare, but I was rather keen on the Spiced Bresse Duck with apricot and raisins or the Ritz signature Beef Wellington with Périgord truffle and wild mushrooms,” Miles stated, a tad waspishly. “However, after taking a shufti at the menu here, it indicates both dishes are listed as requiring a minimum of three-quarters of an hour to prepare! I say, are your mates normally the tardy sort, Maya?”
You tell me, Sir Deplorer of Tardiness! She bit her lip to hold back the smart-aleck retort. After all, you’ve known your niece and sister-in-law most of their lives, have you not?
“One simply cannot rush a good thing, Mr. Edgeworth,” the top-hatted gentleman remarked amiably. He wasn’t at all miffed about his overdue guests, as he was more accustomed to the less rushed, European lifestyle and was never one to sweat the small stuff in general. “The executive chef here draws inspiration from traditional dishes using Escoffier-inspired classical recipes, composed with the ‘Best of British’ produce. Their philosophy is to retain the natural aroma and taste of the best ingredients available. Mark my words, anything you order here will be well worth the wait…”
He smiled mysteriously and paused to take a dramatic sip of his tea.
“Which is exactly what the case shall be regarding my smashing plans for you gentlemen tomorrow.”
Like a rabbit who’d been baited with a carrot, the cravat wearer’s interest was entirely ensnared. “I’m all ears.”
“Let’s just say tomorrow shan’t be as much about sightseeing, per se…” Dark orbs twinkled at the normally stoic attorney’s ill-concealed, childlike excitement. “So much as it revolves around me atoning for having skived off my forsworn tour duties.”
“Atone? What absurd rubbish, Professor!” Miles shook his head adamantly. “The jolly time Wright and I spent with Mr. Barnham was simply the bee’s knees!”
“My compunction cannot be attenuated so easily.” Layton refused to relent. “My impromptu absence was due to being unpredictably saddled with a most curious … puzzle which was brought to my attention, and unfortunately usurped my entire day. To my chagrin, it still has yet to be fully solved.”
“Well, you are the undisputed master of puzzle solving – don’t close your case book yet on finding the solution to whatever mystery you’re digging into! My money’s always on you, Professor,” Phoenix said kindly. “But Edgeworth’s right – you have nothing to be repentant about. We get that you’re a busy man, and besides, it was a real unexpected treat hanging out with Barnham again!”
Maya closely scrutinized the Brit’s veracity and contrition etched on his mien, which although genuine, still didn’t eliminate the psyche lock which appeared when he’d mentioned the word puzzle while staring meaningfully at her lover.
Layton affected a perlocutionary tone that commanded silence.
“Although Mr. Barnham gallantly took over in my stead as your tour guide today, I still feel I broke my word as a gentleman in scrimshanking my host duties. So allow me, please, to introduce you both tomorrow to one of our nation’s most renowned recreational activities.”
“The English boast some of the finest, most cultured sports. I much rather prefer the UK version of footy to the barbaric Yank version of the game with the pigskin.” Miles let out a pompous sniff. “If I resided here, I’d surely have a go at croquet or cricket – although I do make every effort to golf whenever possible.”
Luke was too polite to correct the barrister’s effusive but inaccurate sanctions to his country. Regardless, he had to raise his water glass to his lips to hide his knowing smirk.
Actually, the English may be able to take credit for “football” although technically, the Chinese may have done it first historically, and they can claim cricket as their own, surely. However, Golf is from Scotland, not England, Croquet originates from France but was “borrowed” by the English in the 1800s! But of course, a gentleman would never be so crass as to embarrass a guest in his homeland, especially in mixed company!
The stoic intellectual that was the future Chief Prosecutor had never given a rat’s arse about sports in general, including soccer or American football, and certainly not enough to be sneering down his nose at it! This was why Phoenix, in the meanwhile, was dubiously gawking at his growing snootier by the second, over-the-top Anglophile mate and barely resisting the urge to conk him in the bonce, repeatedly, with his own teacup!
Can it with the snobbery and phony accent, you insufferable, pretentious prig! All that’s missing now is having you wave a crumpet in the air and start warbling “God Save the Queen!” So, quit being such a knob-head, Edgeworth! You were born in Los Angeles, California to parents who were as American as apple pie, just like I was!
And while Edgeworth had mentioned taking fencing as a bloke, the only current sport the former attorney knew about the faux Englishman to actively participate in nowadays was chess!
Which is the reason why it’s taking all of my willpower to keep from telling the biggest stuck-up British wannabe since Doug Swallow to stop acting like such an excruciating nob and to shut his laughing gear, already!
“Pearly, can you please shoot your friend a quick text and get an estimated time of arrival?” Maya hissed into her daughter’s ear, darting a quick sideways glance at the prosecutor, who momentarily appeared to have forgotten his former impatience and was now leaning forward animatedly as he addressed Layton.
“Neither of us is the overly athletic sort, so it would be hard cheese if it was the case – yet I trust a gentleman of your caliber wouldn’t dream of capitulating either into playing any sort of contact sports, such as rugby! Ergo, I’m quite intrigued by whatever it is you have in store for us, Professor.”
“Excuse me, miss.”
An immaculately groomed waiter wearing a full black tie rigout and disapproving expression swooped down from out of nowhere just then. He somberly shook his head at the teenage spirit medium the moment she reached into her purse and pulled out her cell.
“Apologies for any inconvenience but we wish for all our patrons to fully immerse themselves and enjoy the ambiance and their dining experience without interruption or distraction,” he decreed haughtily. “Therefore, The Ritz has a zero-tolerance policy about mobile use within the restaurant. We kindly request our guests to please go outside if they need to give anyone a tinkle.”
“Yes, sir.” Utterly dismayed, Pearl had no choice but to oblige the non-negotiable command, as painstakingly polite as it’d been, then cast a helpless gander at Maya, as if to say: now what?!
“I had intended for it to be a surprise but your enthusiasm has me so chuffed, you’ve pulled it out of me.” Layton smiled broadly at both Phoenix and Miles. “How would you gentleman fancy a day at The Royal County of Berkshire Polo Club, followed by tea … at Buckingham Palace?”
There was a brief silence as the words sunk in – then both men spoke at the same time.
“Are – are you serious?” Stuttered the utterly gobsmacked hobo, his mind reeling at the idea of potentially meeting the Royal family, just as the wonder-filled Miles cried, “Surely thou jest?”
“I jest you not,” the puzzle enthusiast deadpanned, breaking into a wide grin at their reactions. “And don’t call me Shirley!”
Miles was doing his best to restrain his visible excitement, even though the jubilance in his cadence was evident.
“This takes the biscuit! Live spectator seats for polo, the gentlemen’s sport? The chance to rub elbows amongst the other toff at the home of the prestigious Prince of Wales tournament? And we’re then to have tea at the palace, as well?”
“It helps to be Sir Layton at times, apparently,” Layton chuckled. “Although I can’t promise any royal family sightings for either event – it’s nigh impossible to have that level of influence, knighted or not! I’m fortunate enough to have access to the palace grounds. Being privy to that alone is quite the rare, esteemed honor.”
“It’s an ace opportunity in itself, Professor,” Miles assured him, desperately trying to play it cool, despite his starry gaze looking akin to someone who’d just scored VIP passes to a Steel Samurai convention. “I’m positive we’ll have a brilliant time.”
The Englishman caught the relief on Phoenix’s face and noting that the spiky-haired man had seemed more daunted than delighted about the prospect of meeting royalty, decided to soothe his mind even further.
“Mr. Wright, please don’t be alarmed by the term Royal with regards to the polo club – we English simply delight in the use of that luvvly-jubbly word in everything, including The Royal Navy! It doesn’t always indicate the presence of any sort of blue-bloods such as His Majesty or any Princes or Dukes.”
He then turned to the prosecutor, who, unlike his knocked-for-six mate, remained visibly tickled pink by the whole thing.
“I have sorted an appointment for us at my good chum’s haberdashery tomorrow at seven in the morning, so we can all be fitted for our Paddock boots and Jodhpurs.”
“Is it a customary requirement to be dressed like a dog’s dinner to go watch a polo match here in Blighty?”
“Ah, but we shan’t be merely spectating Mr. Edgeworth. The three of us will actually be joining the polo team for an early practice round thereafter.”
“Blimey! It’s all too good to be true – I struggle to believe this isn’t some sort of send-up!” Miles bestowed the top-hatted gentleman with one of his rare, million-dollar smiles. “Your benevolence is unparalleled, Professor. My sincere thanks to you.”
The magenta-clad man curbed himself just at the point of outright gushing and cleared his throat as he then addressed the rest of the group.
“Well then, this bomb announcement has certainly thrown a spanner in the works with my itinerary – not that I’m even remotely whinging!” He announced, rising from the table and placing his napkin atop his plate with a flourish. “Apologies everyone, and especially you Maya, for queering your pitch, but it appears I’m not fated to meet your delayed mates for this one-off. It will have to be another time, as it’s already half past eight, and I simply cannot afford another late night. Ergo, I regret that I must cut this evening short.”
“Aw nut-bunnies!” The Master cried plaintively, her distress evident as she jumped up from her seat. “You’re leaving already?”
“Obviously. I need to be up quite early on the morrow, for which I need my kip and cannot be shattered if I’m going to be at the top of my game – one which entails riding a thoroughbred while wielding a mallet as we take off after a white plastic ball, hurdling at almost 40 mph toward the goal!”
Miles appeared immune to his friend’s stricken expression, as he was already making a move for the exit.
“B – But we haven’t even ordered yet!” The necromancer groped frantically for a stalling tactic without giving away her surprise guests’ identities. “You can’t go to bed hungry if you’re playing sports tomorrow!
Y – You’ll be too weak and you’ll fall off your steed!”
“I’m not presently interested in getting into an argy-bargy over your nutter what-ifs, which, incidentally, are highly unlikely. That said, remind me to enlighten you about my early formative years as an accomplished equestrian some other time.”
The attorney was using his firm, no-nonsense courtroom tone now.
“I shall have Sebastian prepare me a light supper tonight, and plan to tuck in no later than 10:00 to help thwart the weary effects I’ve had from our hectic days combined with my skint slumber nights. Wright, meet me at my hotel at six o’clock, sharp. I’m off to hail a cab and be off to Bedfordshire. Cheerio everyone!”
“Miles, please wait!” The village leader called as she rushed out of the restaurant after him, but her shorter stems, coupled with her high-heeled pumps were no match for his much lengthier strides. She made it to the hotel foyer just in time to see her friend getting into a cab. “Jupiter’s thunder! Curse that stubborn mule of a man and his blasted long legs!”
The crestfallen spirit medium fumbled into her purse for her phone so she could call the prosecutor’s cell, then groaned loudly at the sharp reminder that yet again, the dobber-headed man had left it behind! He hadn’t even had the mind to bother collecting it from Layton’s possession before he’d taken off!
Naturally, at that exact moment, just as the lawyer’s cab sped away, another taxi pulled right in front of the building, with a very guilty-faced Katharina and Anneliese exiting it.
Maya sighed deeply and rolled her eyes heavenward.
“Of course, they’d arrive now! Why wouldn’t they?”
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