[ACE ATTORNEY] The Inverted Turnabout

seitora

Well-Known Member
#1
Written for Resurrection Fic.

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September 18, 2016
10:00 A.M.


As the clock struck ten, the low buzz in the stands of the courtroom was interrupted by the hammering of the judge’s gavel on his desk. “Court is now in session for the trial of Miss Maya Fey,” The elder man proclaimed, and all present paid obeisance to his authority in the form of silence. A quick turn of the head, as he nodded at both the defense and the prosecution in turn, used to working with the two.

“The prosecution is ready, your honour.”

“The defense is ready, your honour.”

The judge held back the smile that dared to creep across his face. Criminal proceedings, especially murder, were no time to show such an expression, even if the two men at opposite benches were a well-oiled team that was always capable of unravelling simple cases turned knotty. Especially since it was the defense’s mentor that had been murdered only a few days ago. “Very well. The prosecution may deliver his opening statement.”

“Thank you, your honour,” The man hailed as one of the Los Angeles’ Police Department’s rising stars gave a slight bow, before reading from his notes. “The defendant, one Miss Mia Fey, is accused of the murder of her elder sister, one Miss Maya Fey, the now-former boss of the present defense attorney and the owner and senior partner of Fey & Co. Death occurred by a blunt blow to the head and was instant, according to an autopsy. The murder weapon was a Los Angeles Angels-branded baseball bat. Prior to the death, the victim was first stabbed several times. The stabbing weapon has yet to be located at this times. Thanks to a witness to the scene, we can place the time of death at 2:18 A.M.”

The defense was quick to prod his counterpart into more information. “Please inform the court as to the circumstances of how the witness saw the scene.”

His request was returned with a nod. “Gladly,” the prosecuting attorney stated. “Our witness was staying at the Gatewater Hotel, which is across the street from the Fey & Co. office building, and was up late. The murder was preceded by a loud crash noise and high-pitched shrieks, giving her time to look through her window and see the exact moment of murder.” The man dressed in solid blue shuffled through his notes. “Additionally, analysis of the defendant’s clothing at the time of death shows blood splatter matching the victim’s blood, and tears in the two sisters’ dress indicates a brief fight.”

The judge closed his eyes. Murder was always a tragic topic, and the homicide cases always seemed to land on his desk. Murderers seemed to be getting cleverer these days, too, framing others, planting red herrings, and many even acting as witnesses to deflect blame away from themselves.

But then, he thought as he opened his eyes again, if anybody could pull the truth out of the web of lies that even the police seemed to fall for too often, it was these same two that could and would do it. Whenever the sparring pair of lawyers before him duked it out it in court, he always found himself amazed at the ways a case would twist and contort as witnesses were prodded and badgered into spilling morsels, at how evidence was questioned, criticised, then tossed aside before suddenly being brought back at a decisive moment, and most of all, how the two attorneys worked off of each other until no stone was left unturned. “Does the defense have any other questions?”

Miles Edgeworth shook his head, his defense attorney’s badge gleaming where it hung from his collar, “No, your honour.”

Across the courtroom, Phoenix Wright adjusted his prosecutor’s badge. “Very well. The prosecution calls forth its primary witness, the hotel guest who witnessed the murder attempt.”


---

A mere few hours later, the judge shook his head as yet another case had run off the rails. The witness, one April May, had quickly been shown to be a liar of the worst order, as attorneys Wright and Edgeworth jumped on slip-ups in her testimony to reveal the presence of a second witness. Then, with a quick court order to force Redd White into the courtroom to testify, the judge decided he was presiding over a circus rather than a court case after Redd White had broken down and confessed to murdering Mia Fey less than ten minutes after he took the stand.

The plan White had spelled out was quite ingenious, the judge privately admitted to himself: as the Feys had ordered in delivery, Miss April May, who had been eavesdropping on Fey & Co.’s phone lines had intercepted the delivery driver, planted in an illegal narcotic notorious for how quickly it dissolved once in the human blood, becoming untraceable to lab tests after only a few hours. With the Feys incapacitated, Redd White had snuck into the law office, tore up the dresses of the two sisters, murdered Mia Fey, then used a knife to stab her several times, angling the stabs to spray blood onto Maya Fey’s garments. This he had done quickly enough before the residual blood pressure in Mia Fey’s body had dissipated with no heart muscle to pump it. Mr. White then planted the knife in the nearby alleyway, hoping police would locate it, but they had not yet done so at the time of trial.

He shivered. It was a good thing Wright and Edgeworth were so good in the court and worked in tandem as opposed to the ‘results’-based approach so many prosecutors and defense attorneys took these days. He would hate to ever have to send any innocent person to prison for a crime he or she did not commit, especially with how the mood of the country had shifted these days to execute criminals first, ask questions later.

Striding through the courtroom, he found himself approaching those two same attorneys. “Mr. Wright, Mr. Edgeworth,” He nodded. The compliment was implied but left unsaid; despite how he favoured the two, he had to at least pretend to be unbiased.

“Thank you for putting up with us as always today, your honour,” Phoenix Wright rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish grin, nervous energy clear in his posture. At least part of that could be attributed to the heavily-pregnant brunette who stood behind him. The judge knew her to be the young prosecutor’s wife. He had heard her name a few times before, and it was on the tip of his tongue, but for the life of him he not make it roll off. Something about a flower or an eye, wasn’t it?

“The same, Mr. Justice,” Miles Edgeworth nodded, and the Judge this time let out a small smile at the formality. Of course the defense attorney would say such a thing, even when he was actively being pestered by a hyperactive girl in her late teens, the daughter of a former prosecutor who had latched onto the younger Edgeworth (and a tinge of nostalgia passed through the Judge, as he hoped a more permanent union would be joined between the children of two of the most noble men he had seen passed through the court). After all, even with several years of law practice under his belt, it was clear the young man still idolised his father.

And speaking of Gregory Edgeworth. “Enjoying retirement, Gregory?” The Judge teased, mindful of the elder woman at Gregory’s side. Even though he had been brought in on her secret some time after her and Gregory started working together over a decade ago, the Judge knew that any future conversations between Misty Fey and her daughter Mia just wouldn’t be the same, as Mia would no longer be of her own body, but a spirit channeled by another Fey medium.

“I am,” Gregory allowed, “Even managed to kick the habit. But I still wouldn’t miss one of my son’s trials for the world.” Old age had treated the man well: only the whitening hair hinted at his getting on in years. “We old-timers have to retire, let the younger guard take over.”

“Touche,” The Judge responded, marveling at how Misty Fey had managed to bring the more lighthearted side out of Gregory Edgeworth. “Entirely off the record, of course, but those two already knew whodunit before I even opened session earlier, didn’t they?”

The light smirk fell off of Gregory’s face, and his age finally showed itself across his features. The hint of red in his eyes showed the tears he had no doubt shed over his daughter-in-law’s death. Sometimes, the gift to meet the dead was a curse, and no matter how many victims had identified their murderers to Wright and Edgeworth, allowing them to work backwards in deciphering a case, dead was dead. That Mia Fey knew Redd White would sooner silence her than allow his secrets to be spilled out to the world, and her protege and his childhood friend could plan out an entire trial before it even began, still didn’t help the fact of her murder.

The Judge knew all this and more, was conflicted between a channeling ability that by all rights was magic and his conscience, which stated that anything that could help prove the innocence of suspects was a boon. But for now, all he saw was a tired old friend. “You have my number. Call me if ever you need someone to talk to,” He promised, and this was directed at both husband and wife.

Gregory’s posture stiffened, before he nodded. “Thank you, your honour,” He called as the Judge walked away, intent to get to his chambers.


---

December 28th, 2001
1:50 P.M.


“Your elevator, Mr. Edgeworth,” The bailiff presented the open door of the elevator to the defense attorney and his son. Said elevator was in a secure part of the building, barred off from the public. Given the trial he had just attended, Gregory felt he needed the peace and quiet, away from the chattering public.

Gregory nodded, “Thank you, Yanni,” and was about to walk past the plane separating hallway and elevator, when he was suddenly stopped.

“Father?”

Gregory paused, looking to his young son, who had just interrupted his line of thought. “What is it, Miles?”

“Why was that man so angry?”

The older Edgeworth grimaced at that. Sensing that this wasn’t something that could be brushed off with a few words, he mouthed a silent sorry to Yanni before lowering one leg to sit on the floor, putting himself face to face with his son. “His name is Herr von Karma, son. Herr is a German term to greet adult men, and he prefers to go by that than ‘Mr.’.” That short lesson out of the way, he paused, thinking how to say this. “Manfred is a proud man, Miles, and proud men sometimes have a hard time losing.”

“Pride goeth before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall,” Miles quoted.

Gregory smiled at that. Leave it to his son to quote the Bible at a time like this. “Yes, something like that, Miles. Manfred von Karma is legendary in the legal world for having never lost a case. Even now, that record of his remains unblemished, but it also remains suspicious. Surely not every person you ever prosecute over thirty years of service has been guilty. Now, however, for the first time, one of the pieces of evidence he submitted was found to be falsified, and for that, he was issued a penalty, which means he was at risk of being held in contempt of court.”

Miles’ eyes had widened. “He won every case in thirty years?!”

Gregory’s face turned serious. “Yes, and it is men like him you need to look out for. All of it is hearsay, but many will believe he falsified that evidence himself, instead of the detective on the case, and much like it before. If you achieve your dream to become a defense attorney like me, Miles, you may even need to go up against him yourself one day.”

Miles face had turned to stone, his fists clenched together. “I won’t let him do that when that happens. I’ll ferret out the truth, and only if my client truly committed a crime will I accept a loss.” Part of it was his age, and part of it was the steel resolution heard in his voice that stopped either adult from noting that he hadn’t stated if, but when.

His father smiled again, happy to see his son so resolute in the name of justice. Squeezing his son’s shoulder in a show of support, he stood up, having remained mindful of the bailiff’s presence there all the while. “I hope you keep this conversation quiet, Yanni,” He requested. While Manfred was a menace, he still had his own public duty to remain as a servant of the law. He did not desire to stoop to becoming a public rumourmonger.

Yanni Yogi just nodded. “Of cour-”

Whatever else the bailiff was about to say was interrupted as the floor suddenly rumbled under the three’s feet, and Gregory found himself sprawled over the tiling, his head taking a knock. The lights flickered on and off for a split second, before finally turning off for good. A few seconds later, the back-up set of lights, far dimmer than the normal lights, turned on.

He wiped his head as he slowly made his way off the floor, unsurprised to see a tinge of red across his fingertips. Quickly picking his trembling son up, he turned to Yanni, who had also pulled himself up. “Earthquake, Yanni?”

“Yes sir,” Yanni nodded, as he pressed the buttons on the elevator, the door refusing to shut. “We’re on the back-up generator. All non-essential functions have been shut off. If you need to leave, you’ll have to take the public staircase.” He paused, then added, “I’m not even sure the keylocks out of here work right now, for that matter. We may be stuck here for the time being.”

Gregory just shook his head, looking at the elevator. “It could be worse, I suppose,” He thought out loud, shaking his pocket loose for a pack of cigarettes. “We could have been in the elevator when the earthquake struck.”



----

I really would have loved to have fine-tuned and expanded this, but as it was I had like literally 4 free hours over the last three days. Getting a power plant started up which was 15 hours a day of work, and while there’s normally lots of downtime, start-ups are constantly busy.

I had the idea a few years ago of making Edgeworth the defense and Phoenix the prosecutor in a court, and finagled this by keeping Gregory alive. How he stays alive is the whole point of the latter scene, of course. I assume that somewhere along the line he finds an unsolvable case and enlists the service of Misty Fey, much like the police do in canon to figure out who killed Gregory. After he finds it useful to figure out who a murderer was right off the start, he uses her services more and more. Mia Fey becomes a defense attorney because of him. Phoenix becomes a prosecutor so he can work with Edgeworth in court and assist him in shepherding difficult cases through while finding the truth.

Asides from Gregory dodging the earthquake, Kay Faraday was born a few years earlier because she would have been 15 in 2016 otherwise, If she’s 18 instead and Miles 24 then only a few more years before divide by two plus seven is satisfied. And I guess Edgeworth still worked on the case of her father’s murder somehow?
 

chronodekar

Obsessively signs his posts
Staff member
#2
An interesting read. The narration felt blocky in a few places, but I got the gist of it. Didn't really know what to make of the story when I began reading it. Wasn't until near mid-way that I realized you swapped Wright's and Edgeworth's positions. Another point that bothered me was that the judge was aware that the two of them worked as a team. In the game, their first professional contact was the Misty Fey murder case.

The idea of them working backwards to ferret out a murderer seems a bit ... off. In the original trilogy, I think that was the point they were trying to make - that bringing back the dead was NOT a sure-fire way to identify a murderer.

Who did Phonex marry in this? Can't have been Maya, if she was on the witness stand and I can't think of any major female characters from the games.

Reading this fanfic, I'm beginning to wonder if the game mechanics translate into fanfiction. It feels disjoint. Hmm... perhaps I should read some Perry Mason for a better suggestion? Those books were really good at describing courtroom drama. :)

-chronodekar
 
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