The Sleep of the Just
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+M through R › Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney
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Adult ++
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Category:
+M through R › Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
7
Views:
2,504
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Phoenix Wright Ace Attorney and I make no money from writing yaoi fanfic
Unusual Precedent
Title: The Sleep of the Just.
Author: Nyarlathotep
Fandom: Ace Attorney
Characters and Pairings: Miles Edgeworth/Phoenix Wright, Apollo Justice/Klavier Gavin, Kristoph Gavin, ensemble supporting cast
Rating: G through NC-17 (this chapter: G)
Warnings for this chapter: guilt, moral ambiguity, excessive cameos, psychiatry
Chapter Five: Unusual Precedent
“Alright, Kristoph… Are you comfortable?”
“Ja, Dan- er… Yes… Thank you.”
“How have you been feeling? Are you getting any physical therapy for your injuries?”
“I am being well cared for. I am told my arm will take several more weeks to heal.”
“Do you remember me, Kristoph?
“I- N-no.. Forgive me… I-”
“That’s quite alright; it was just a question… I won’t take your answer personally, I promise.”
A pleasant smile- a loud orange bowtie- an equally loud, aqua three piece suit- compassionate brown eyes… All the individual items were recognizable but the man was not familiar. The image was of a doctor, in his late forties with a puffy kind of comfortable fatness and grey, side swept hair but his deep voice, kind expression and the structurally soothing shape of his words simply flitted through Kristoph’s blank memory, ringing no bells; their ghostly, insubstantial fingers merely passing through the pull ropes.
Kristoph had only seen one person he recognized since waking… and that experience had been traumatic enough- when he’d learned… learned what had happened… how much time had passed…
When he’d learned what he’d done…
He shivered and the psychoanalyst cocked an eyebrow. “Did something come back to you, Kristoph?”
“Ah… Nein… I was just thinking about mien bruder… m-my brother, Klavier. He- he refers to the… m-mur- the criminal as “Kristoph”… He… My full name…Whe- when he was- a boy… He never used it… I was just Kris… or bruder… rarely “Kristoph” except in official records.”
“I see, so you would prefer to be addressed as “Kris” then… and to maintain a distinction between yourself and “Kristoph”?” The man shifted in the leather armchair, making it creak and marking something on a notepad discretely.
“N-nein… It is alright… Kristoph is my name after all… regardless of what has become attached to it without my knowledge… Fidgeting with his water glass, Kristoph dropped his eyes to the bulky cast which encased his right arm, the pins in his elbow twinged painfully as the effects of his prescription pain-killers began to ebb.
“You believe you are not responsible for your crimes?
I am not a murderer Herr Doktor… I- I have been told some of what I did… but that was not me… I would n- never… never… Oh Gott… I want it to be a dream, Doktor.” Dropping his head into his free hand, Kristoph gripped his long bangs, squeezing his eyes shut against a sudden prickling of tears. “Klavier… he says that I was injured by a horse long ago… that I was in a coma… perhaps I am still there, ja? Asleep, where I could never hurt anybody real… Only slay imaginary friends and strangers with a hand that I do not recognize as my own? I am so confused Herr… Herr…”
“It’s John Arthur, Kristoph… Just call me John alright?” Placidly making another mark on the notepad and smiling, the doctor called John reached to the side of his chair, retrieving a stack of photocopies. “Please take a look through these and let me know if any of the people look familiar to you, ok?”
“Ja, of course, J- John…” Kristoph managed to compose himself, wiping his eyes hurriedly. He accepted the stack of papers as they were pushed across the table between them and took up the first one, studying it carefully.
“Do you need your glasses Kristoph? I could-”
“Ah, nein… Since the surgery, I apparently have no further need for vision correction, not that I recall ever needing them in the first place.” It rather shocked Kristoph that he’d managed a smile which John returned, nodding and scribbling in his notes again.
The first image was of a serious looking young woman with dark blue hair and denim bib-overalls. In her hands she held an oversized sketchbook. Kristoph set it aside and selected the next in the stack.
It was a courtroom drawing of Apollo Justice, pointing animatedly; Kristoph thought that the young attorney’s intense expression had been captured very well by whoever had drawn the picture.
“This is Apollo Justice, one of the attorneys Klavier hired to handle my case.” Kristoph placed the image of Apollo next to the image of the girl with the sketchbook. “I have been told his testimony was instrumental in convicting me of both evidence forging and homicide… however I have no memory of him before five days ago when I awoke.
“I see, please continue.” More scratching, that page had to be getting full by now…
The next three images were all unfamiliar people. The first was of a commanding looking man with an arrogant grin and the garb of a stage magician; the next, a young girl dressed similarly ‘possibly a relative?’ and finally, an odd, nearly bald man with a huge white-toothed grin and coke-bottle glasses… They all went onto the pile with the sketchbook girl.
“This looks like another one of my attorneys, Phoenix Wright.” Studying the next image in the stack intently for a moment to make sure, he nodded in certainty. It appeared to be surveillance video still, black and white with a date and time stamp in the lower right hand corner reading 4:15 PM Detention Center CCTV Camera #4.” Yes it’s Herr Wright… but in the short time we’ve been acquainted I have not had occasion to see him dressed so… casually… That knit cap makes him nearly unrecognizable…” Kristoph placed the picture atop the drawing of Apollo but continued to eye it thoughtfully. In the image Phoenix’s body faced a glass partition but his eyes were trained upward on the camera, seeming almost to look straight out of the paper at him.
Next, a man with wild iron-gray hair and a paint splattered face and after him, a cheerful looking, black-haired girl in a strange sort of traditional, ethnic costume were placed in the ‘unknown’ pile while he shuffled through the final three images. The first was a picture of Klavier screaming into a microphone, amidst some kind of violent pyrotechnic display. The second, a very disturbing photo of himself, his hair wound into the same unusual spiral as he’d observed Klavier wearing in his photo, eyes obscured by a sharp glint off the lenses of oval glasses, his mouth twisted into a smirk that Kristoph could only describe a vicious. In the photo he seemed to be on the stand in a courtroom. The final picture in the stack was an image of Miles Edgeworth, albeit with much shorter hair and without his half-moon glasses,
“This is Miles Edgeworth, the last of my three attorneys…” Kristoph picked up the photo and looked it over carefully. It appeared to have been taken at an official function of some kind and the suit clad arms of other people, long since cropped from the image, still intruded on either side of the stoic and unsmiling, grey haired man. “I’m told he used to be a most noteworthy prosecutor… his hair is longer now than it was when this photo was taken…” placing the photocopy back on the stack, Kristoph selected the final two images and held them side by side, studying them in silence for a few moments before speaking. “This is my brother, Klavier. I’ve heard he is an internationally famous rock musician, so I assume this was taken at one of his concerts…” The colorful picture of the man Kristoph’s baby brother had become was placed atop the ‘known’ pile with Wright, Justice and Edgeworth while the cruel parody of his own face continued to stare at him from its two dimensional prison. “Th- This is me… I- Gott… Was this taken at my own trial? I look so…so… I- John… Am I guilty…? Am I evil in my heart? I don’t understand what has happened to me… Of course the physicians tried to explain it but… How can one just… be someone else for fifteen years? Where did that person go? Is he still inside me somewhere? I am afraid, Doktor…”
Kristoph’s cast scraped against the table when he shifted and the grinding sound it produced seemed to snap the psychoanalyst out of his thoughtful reverie and he scratched a few underlines onto something he’d previously written down. “Please don’t worry, Kristoph. Your particular problem was neurological in nature. Now that the traumatized tissue has been removed, there is no physical reason that you should ever revert… The amnesia on the other hand may not be the result of your surgery… That is one of the things I am attempting to determine with these exercises…” The companionable smile flashed again and Kristoph’s worry began to ease a bit. He nodded slowly, settling into his chair and grimacing in pain.
“May I have some coffee and take my medication before we continue, John?”
“Yes, of course, Kristoph.”
~O~
“All rise for the Judge!”
Although there were only five people present, the rustle of clothing and scrape of chair legs on floor tiles gave the nervous energy in the room an almost visual quality, like ghost images on an old television, fluttering, tentative and indistinct.
“That’s quite alright, please be seated.” The judge settled his own bulk into the protesting leather executive chair behind his cluttered desk and the rest followed suit, easing themselves back into their seats a bit more quietly than they had arisen. The bailiff remained standing at parade rest until officially dismissed, closing the door quietly as he left. “So I hear there has been a bit of upheaval? Mr. Edgeworth, would you please enlighten us?”
“Of course, your Honor… I am here as an appointed representative of my firm, on behalf of Mr. Kristoph Gavin. I requested this meeting to announce our intentions to officially appeal the criminal conviction of our client, pending quite a bit of new evidence.” Miles finished and folded his arms, sitting back in his chair with a cool, challenging expression. The Chief Prosecutor seated to his right, looked uncomfortable but said nothing.
Eyes widening impossibly, the Judge also sat back in his chair, looking between the silent prosecutor and confident defense attorney for a moment before speaking. “I see! What manner of new evidence are we to be considering here and what are the stipulations regarding the appeal?”
“Psychological and medical evidence, your Honor; as we’ve obtained sufficient proof that Mr. Gavin’s mental disability was to blame for his many criminal actions over the years that he practiced as a defense attorney. I’m here to demand a reclassification today and as soon as that is accomplished the motion to overturn Mr. Gavin’s criminal convictions will be filed. I have the paperwork prepared and my witnesses are ready to go.”
Again the Judge’s eyebrows rose to what would have been his hairline. “My goodness… You certainly seem confident… That must be some evidence you have there… Wasn’t Mr. Gavin convicted of multiple murders? Aren’t we still looking over his past cases in an attempt to determine exactly how much evidence he faked? How many guilty clients he freed? How many innocent people he condemned in their place? Wait… Isn’t this a conflict of interest of some kind?” The Judge cast about for some kind of corroboration, frowning at the silent Chief Prosecutor and the stern defense attorney in turn.
“With all due respect, your Honor; I no longer work for the District Court and I no longer work for the Prosecution but I do still work, as I always have, for the people and for justice. The only thing that has changed is who signs my paychecks, sir. Neither I, nor my partners Mr. Wright and Mr. Justice, both of whom were instrumental in proving Kristoph Gavin’s guilt two years ago, would have agreed to defend him now if we weren’t all convinced that he can no longer be blamed for his actions. Kristoph may have been guilty, but Kristoph is also innocent and before this is over you and the Jurists and the world will come to understand that, as I have.”
The Judge gaped for a moment but composed himself quickly, his gaze shifting to the man seated to Edgeworth’s left. “Well, I’ve always upheld that you were a man of integrity, despite the rumors that circulated about your practices in the past Mr. Edgeworth, so I must now assume you are aware of the moral implications that attempting to free a murderer and fraud hold. However, I see that you have Mr. Arthur here in person, so I must also assume that you aren’t simply blowing smoke… Nor do I believe you to be the type to do so anyway…” He shifted his weight again, moving a small bronzed gavel on a mahogany base to a right angle with his pen holder. “Do you have anything to add, John?
“Yes, your Honor… As the lead psychiatrist employed by the State Prison, I’ve had many opportunities to speak with Mr. Gavin over the two years he’s been in the system and judging by what I witnessed yesterday I believe significant reexamination of this case is necessary. I know it’s an unusual precedent but I believe that if you review the video from this afternoon’s session in counterpoint to a video from a session prior to Mr. Gavin’s neurosurgery and read this brief report, you will find no cause to deny the reclassification. In my professional opinion there is some extremely important information about Mr. Gavin, which was not presented at his trial simply because it had not yet been discovered. In fact this might be the most bizarre case of mistaken identity you will ever see in your career, your Honor.” The psychoanalyst smiled slightly as if something amusing had happened and handed over the small stack of paperwork and a data stick containing video recordings of the sessions.
~O~
“Good news, I hope?” Phoenix’s voice crackled over the cellular connection, the noises of wind and traffic nearly sweeping his words away before Miles could hear them. ‘He must be on his bicycle…’ Miles mused, striding purposefully down the hall at the High Prosecutor’s office, like he still owned the place. At the beginning of the week, Klavier had decided to end his leave of absence and return to work in a limited capacity. After the initial shock of the situation had evened out into a low-grade kind of constant dread, and Kristoph had accepted the strange and terrifying circumstances he found himself thrust into, Klavier again felt he was stable enough to at least do paperwork. Miles was headed up to the prosecutor’s office now to speak with him in person regarding their next move.
“Good news indeed… So far that is. The reclassification has been granted. Mr. Gavin will be moved immediately to the Woodloch Psychiatric Hospital, pending his appellate trial…” He trailed off as Prosecutor Payne and another man he didn’t recognize passed him on their way to the elevator. They both eyed him with looks of vague alarm and Miles smirked, rounding the corner without acknowledging his former colleague. “After his injuries heal sufficiently we’ll go to court, Phoenix… and fight to reverse everything we struggled for so long to achieve… Are you ready?”
Phoenix’s protracted silence concerned him and he made a soothing noise into the phone, rather wishing the man was present so that he could take his hand; reassure him with a look; a kiss. ‘Oh, how far we’ve come…’ But he needn’t have worried; Phoenix was just mulling things over. Long years of expecting the unexpected had certainly turned him into a man not easily shaken.
“I think we need some hard evidence, Miles… I mean, the psychiatrist’s testimony will be crucial and I can only imagine the effect that character testimony from both Vera and Trucy will have on a sympathetic Jurist Panel but something’s been bothering me… something about Kristoph’s voice, and I want to look into it. I’m going to call Ema.” Miles smirked again, pausing outside Klavier’s office to finish his conversation with Phoenix.
“She’s not going to appreciate you disturbing her vacation…
“Oh come on, Miles. You know where she is. I’m surprised she hasn’t called me yet to berate me for not already asking her for help. Maybe Maya actually didn’t tell her…”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Haha! Yeah, you’re right… I don’t know what I was thinking. Oh well, I guess I better get ready to have Snackoos thrown at me and be blinded with science.” Phoenix laughed and Miles laughed along with him, finding that it came easier than it had in what seemed like weeks.
“Celebratory dinner? We’ve won the first battle after all…” He pinned the phone between shoulder and ear, rifling the accordion file he carried for Klavier’s copy of the Reclassification document, humming in approval when Phoenix agreed, suggesting one of their favorite hole-in-the-wall places and offering to round up Apollo if he would be good enough to get Klavier. “I’m certain he’ll be on board after I give him the news. See you at six then… Huh? Later…? Y-yes of course… Phoenix! This is not the time! You… Damn it, Wright… I- I love you too… Idiot.” Miles hung up, cheeks painted with a blush which only intensified when he noticed Klavier’s secretary smirking merrily at him from behind her reception desk. He shoved the phone into his inside pocket with an embarrassed cough and straightened his lapels as she motioned for him into enter the prosecutor’s office.
When he walked in, Klavier was already on his feet, looking terrified but his expression instantly broke into a joyful grin when Miles brandished the Reclassification document at him with a smile. He staggered back a step as he was forcefully hugged by the exuberant prosecutor. Chuckling, Miles tried to regain his balance while returning Klavier’s embrace a bit awkwardly. Patting the blond on the back companionably, he stepped back when he was released. Klavier now only looked relieved and exhausted, smiling but tired and frazzled and thin. Miles frowned, becoming concerned.
“Klavier, have you been eating properly? I realize that remaining so uninvolved must be killing you but please trust us alright? Trust us because we will win this; we hold all the cards.” He smiled reassuringly as the prosecutor slumped against a stack of speakers, looking abashed and brushing his bangs back from his eyes.
“Ja… I just haven’t had so much of an appetite lately… but now that you mention it… I am starving, Herr Edgeworth.” The blonde looked up at him again, grinning and Miles returned his smile, picking up the man’s purple jacket from the back of a paper strewn desk chair and handing to him.
“Let’s go then, Apollo and Phoenix will be meeting us at Leo’s Pub in an hour so I hope you’re in the mood for a good steak and the company of friends. After dinner, we’ll go see your brother. He’s being moved tonight.” Klavier nodded, accepting the jacket and shrugging it on. He shut off his computer quickly and buzzed his secretary to inform her he was leaving for the day before turning back toward Miles with a brilliant, happy smile.
“Herr Edgeworth… I have never been so much in the mood for steak and friends as I am right now.”
-TBC!-
Author: Nyarlathotep
Fandom: Ace Attorney
Characters and Pairings: Miles Edgeworth/Phoenix Wright, Apollo Justice/Klavier Gavin, Kristoph Gavin, ensemble supporting cast
Rating: G through NC-17 (this chapter: G)
Warnings for this chapter: guilt, moral ambiguity, excessive cameos, psychiatry
“Alright, Kristoph… Are you comfortable?”
“Ja, Dan- er… Yes… Thank you.”
“How have you been feeling? Are you getting any physical therapy for your injuries?”
“I am being well cared for. I am told my arm will take several more weeks to heal.”
“Do you remember me, Kristoph?
“I- N-no.. Forgive me… I-”
“That’s quite alright; it was just a question… I won’t take your answer personally, I promise.”
A pleasant smile- a loud orange bowtie- an equally loud, aqua three piece suit- compassionate brown eyes… All the individual items were recognizable but the man was not familiar. The image was of a doctor, in his late forties with a puffy kind of comfortable fatness and grey, side swept hair but his deep voice, kind expression and the structurally soothing shape of his words simply flitted through Kristoph’s blank memory, ringing no bells; their ghostly, insubstantial fingers merely passing through the pull ropes.
Kristoph had only seen one person he recognized since waking… and that experience had been traumatic enough- when he’d learned… learned what had happened… how much time had passed…
When he’d learned what he’d done…
He shivered and the psychoanalyst cocked an eyebrow. “Did something come back to you, Kristoph?”
“Ah… Nein… I was just thinking about mien bruder… m-my brother, Klavier. He- he refers to the… m-mur- the criminal as “Kristoph”… He… My full name…Whe- when he was- a boy… He never used it… I was just Kris… or bruder… rarely “Kristoph” except in official records.”
“I see, so you would prefer to be addressed as “Kris” then… and to maintain a distinction between yourself and “Kristoph”?” The man shifted in the leather armchair, making it creak and marking something on a notepad discretely.
“N-nein… It is alright… Kristoph is my name after all… regardless of what has become attached to it without my knowledge… Fidgeting with his water glass, Kristoph dropped his eyes to the bulky cast which encased his right arm, the pins in his elbow twinged painfully as the effects of his prescription pain-killers began to ebb.
“You believe you are not responsible for your crimes?
I am not a murderer Herr Doktor… I- I have been told some of what I did… but that was not me… I would n- never… never… Oh Gott… I want it to be a dream, Doktor.” Dropping his head into his free hand, Kristoph gripped his long bangs, squeezing his eyes shut against a sudden prickling of tears. “Klavier… he says that I was injured by a horse long ago… that I was in a coma… perhaps I am still there, ja? Asleep, where I could never hurt anybody real… Only slay imaginary friends and strangers with a hand that I do not recognize as my own? I am so confused Herr… Herr…”
“It’s John Arthur, Kristoph… Just call me John alright?” Placidly making another mark on the notepad and smiling, the doctor called John reached to the side of his chair, retrieving a stack of photocopies. “Please take a look through these and let me know if any of the people look familiar to you, ok?”
“Ja, of course, J- John…” Kristoph managed to compose himself, wiping his eyes hurriedly. He accepted the stack of papers as they were pushed across the table between them and took up the first one, studying it carefully.
“Do you need your glasses Kristoph? I could-”
“Ah, nein… Since the surgery, I apparently have no further need for vision correction, not that I recall ever needing them in the first place.” It rather shocked Kristoph that he’d managed a smile which John returned, nodding and scribbling in his notes again.
The first image was of a serious looking young woman with dark blue hair and denim bib-overalls. In her hands she held an oversized sketchbook. Kristoph set it aside and selected the next in the stack.
It was a courtroom drawing of Apollo Justice, pointing animatedly; Kristoph thought that the young attorney’s intense expression had been captured very well by whoever had drawn the picture.
“This is Apollo Justice, one of the attorneys Klavier hired to handle my case.” Kristoph placed the image of Apollo next to the image of the girl with the sketchbook. “I have been told his testimony was instrumental in convicting me of both evidence forging and homicide… however I have no memory of him before five days ago when I awoke.
“I see, please continue.” More scratching, that page had to be getting full by now…
The next three images were all unfamiliar people. The first was of a commanding looking man with an arrogant grin and the garb of a stage magician; the next, a young girl dressed similarly ‘possibly a relative?’ and finally, an odd, nearly bald man with a huge white-toothed grin and coke-bottle glasses… They all went onto the pile with the sketchbook girl.
“This looks like another one of my attorneys, Phoenix Wright.” Studying the next image in the stack intently for a moment to make sure, he nodded in certainty. It appeared to be surveillance video still, black and white with a date and time stamp in the lower right hand corner reading 4:15 PM Detention Center CCTV Camera #4.” Yes it’s Herr Wright… but in the short time we’ve been acquainted I have not had occasion to see him dressed so… casually… That knit cap makes him nearly unrecognizable…” Kristoph placed the picture atop the drawing of Apollo but continued to eye it thoughtfully. In the image Phoenix’s body faced a glass partition but his eyes were trained upward on the camera, seeming almost to look straight out of the paper at him.
Next, a man with wild iron-gray hair and a paint splattered face and after him, a cheerful looking, black-haired girl in a strange sort of traditional, ethnic costume were placed in the ‘unknown’ pile while he shuffled through the final three images. The first was a picture of Klavier screaming into a microphone, amidst some kind of violent pyrotechnic display. The second, a very disturbing photo of himself, his hair wound into the same unusual spiral as he’d observed Klavier wearing in his photo, eyes obscured by a sharp glint off the lenses of oval glasses, his mouth twisted into a smirk that Kristoph could only describe a vicious. In the photo he seemed to be on the stand in a courtroom. The final picture in the stack was an image of Miles Edgeworth, albeit with much shorter hair and without his half-moon glasses,
“This is Miles Edgeworth, the last of my three attorneys…” Kristoph picked up the photo and looked it over carefully. It appeared to have been taken at an official function of some kind and the suit clad arms of other people, long since cropped from the image, still intruded on either side of the stoic and unsmiling, grey haired man. “I’m told he used to be a most noteworthy prosecutor… his hair is longer now than it was when this photo was taken…” placing the photocopy back on the stack, Kristoph selected the final two images and held them side by side, studying them in silence for a few moments before speaking. “This is my brother, Klavier. I’ve heard he is an internationally famous rock musician, so I assume this was taken at one of his concerts…” The colorful picture of the man Kristoph’s baby brother had become was placed atop the ‘known’ pile with Wright, Justice and Edgeworth while the cruel parody of his own face continued to stare at him from its two dimensional prison. “Th- This is me… I- Gott… Was this taken at my own trial? I look so…so… I- John… Am I guilty…? Am I evil in my heart? I don’t understand what has happened to me… Of course the physicians tried to explain it but… How can one just… be someone else for fifteen years? Where did that person go? Is he still inside me somewhere? I am afraid, Doktor…”
Kristoph’s cast scraped against the table when he shifted and the grinding sound it produced seemed to snap the psychoanalyst out of his thoughtful reverie and he scratched a few underlines onto something he’d previously written down. “Please don’t worry, Kristoph. Your particular problem was neurological in nature. Now that the traumatized tissue has been removed, there is no physical reason that you should ever revert… The amnesia on the other hand may not be the result of your surgery… That is one of the things I am attempting to determine with these exercises…” The companionable smile flashed again and Kristoph’s worry began to ease a bit. He nodded slowly, settling into his chair and grimacing in pain.
“May I have some coffee and take my medication before we continue, John?”
“Yes, of course, Kristoph.”
~O~
“All rise for the Judge!”
Although there were only five people present, the rustle of clothing and scrape of chair legs on floor tiles gave the nervous energy in the room an almost visual quality, like ghost images on an old television, fluttering, tentative and indistinct.
“That’s quite alright, please be seated.” The judge settled his own bulk into the protesting leather executive chair behind his cluttered desk and the rest followed suit, easing themselves back into their seats a bit more quietly than they had arisen. The bailiff remained standing at parade rest until officially dismissed, closing the door quietly as he left. “So I hear there has been a bit of upheaval? Mr. Edgeworth, would you please enlighten us?”
“Of course, your Honor… I am here as an appointed representative of my firm, on behalf of Mr. Kristoph Gavin. I requested this meeting to announce our intentions to officially appeal the criminal conviction of our client, pending quite a bit of new evidence.” Miles finished and folded his arms, sitting back in his chair with a cool, challenging expression. The Chief Prosecutor seated to his right, looked uncomfortable but said nothing.
Eyes widening impossibly, the Judge also sat back in his chair, looking between the silent prosecutor and confident defense attorney for a moment before speaking. “I see! What manner of new evidence are we to be considering here and what are the stipulations regarding the appeal?”
“Psychological and medical evidence, your Honor; as we’ve obtained sufficient proof that Mr. Gavin’s mental disability was to blame for his many criminal actions over the years that he practiced as a defense attorney. I’m here to demand a reclassification today and as soon as that is accomplished the motion to overturn Mr. Gavin’s criminal convictions will be filed. I have the paperwork prepared and my witnesses are ready to go.”
Again the Judge’s eyebrows rose to what would have been his hairline. “My goodness… You certainly seem confident… That must be some evidence you have there… Wasn’t Mr. Gavin convicted of multiple murders? Aren’t we still looking over his past cases in an attempt to determine exactly how much evidence he faked? How many guilty clients he freed? How many innocent people he condemned in their place? Wait… Isn’t this a conflict of interest of some kind?” The Judge cast about for some kind of corroboration, frowning at the silent Chief Prosecutor and the stern defense attorney in turn.
“With all due respect, your Honor; I no longer work for the District Court and I no longer work for the Prosecution but I do still work, as I always have, for the people and for justice. The only thing that has changed is who signs my paychecks, sir. Neither I, nor my partners Mr. Wright and Mr. Justice, both of whom were instrumental in proving Kristoph Gavin’s guilt two years ago, would have agreed to defend him now if we weren’t all convinced that he can no longer be blamed for his actions. Kristoph may have been guilty, but Kristoph is also innocent and before this is over you and the Jurists and the world will come to understand that, as I have.”
The Judge gaped for a moment but composed himself quickly, his gaze shifting to the man seated to Edgeworth’s left. “Well, I’ve always upheld that you were a man of integrity, despite the rumors that circulated about your practices in the past Mr. Edgeworth, so I must now assume you are aware of the moral implications that attempting to free a murderer and fraud hold. However, I see that you have Mr. Arthur here in person, so I must also assume that you aren’t simply blowing smoke… Nor do I believe you to be the type to do so anyway…” He shifted his weight again, moving a small bronzed gavel on a mahogany base to a right angle with his pen holder. “Do you have anything to add, John?
“Yes, your Honor… As the lead psychiatrist employed by the State Prison, I’ve had many opportunities to speak with Mr. Gavin over the two years he’s been in the system and judging by what I witnessed yesterday I believe significant reexamination of this case is necessary. I know it’s an unusual precedent but I believe that if you review the video from this afternoon’s session in counterpoint to a video from a session prior to Mr. Gavin’s neurosurgery and read this brief report, you will find no cause to deny the reclassification. In my professional opinion there is some extremely important information about Mr. Gavin, which was not presented at his trial simply because it had not yet been discovered. In fact this might be the most bizarre case of mistaken identity you will ever see in your career, your Honor.” The psychoanalyst smiled slightly as if something amusing had happened and handed over the small stack of paperwork and a data stick containing video recordings of the sessions.
~O~
“Good news, I hope?” Phoenix’s voice crackled over the cellular connection, the noises of wind and traffic nearly sweeping his words away before Miles could hear them. ‘He must be on his bicycle…’ Miles mused, striding purposefully down the hall at the High Prosecutor’s office, like he still owned the place. At the beginning of the week, Klavier had decided to end his leave of absence and return to work in a limited capacity. After the initial shock of the situation had evened out into a low-grade kind of constant dread, and Kristoph had accepted the strange and terrifying circumstances he found himself thrust into, Klavier again felt he was stable enough to at least do paperwork. Miles was headed up to the prosecutor’s office now to speak with him in person regarding their next move.
“Good news indeed… So far that is. The reclassification has been granted. Mr. Gavin will be moved immediately to the Woodloch Psychiatric Hospital, pending his appellate trial…” He trailed off as Prosecutor Payne and another man he didn’t recognize passed him on their way to the elevator. They both eyed him with looks of vague alarm and Miles smirked, rounding the corner without acknowledging his former colleague. “After his injuries heal sufficiently we’ll go to court, Phoenix… and fight to reverse everything we struggled for so long to achieve… Are you ready?”
Phoenix’s protracted silence concerned him and he made a soothing noise into the phone, rather wishing the man was present so that he could take his hand; reassure him with a look; a kiss. ‘Oh, how far we’ve come…’ But he needn’t have worried; Phoenix was just mulling things over. Long years of expecting the unexpected had certainly turned him into a man not easily shaken.
“I think we need some hard evidence, Miles… I mean, the psychiatrist’s testimony will be crucial and I can only imagine the effect that character testimony from both Vera and Trucy will have on a sympathetic Jurist Panel but something’s been bothering me… something about Kristoph’s voice, and I want to look into it. I’m going to call Ema.” Miles smirked again, pausing outside Klavier’s office to finish his conversation with Phoenix.
“She’s not going to appreciate you disturbing her vacation…
“Oh come on, Miles. You know where she is. I’m surprised she hasn’t called me yet to berate me for not already asking her for help. Maybe Maya actually didn’t tell her…”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Haha! Yeah, you’re right… I don’t know what I was thinking. Oh well, I guess I better get ready to have Snackoos thrown at me and be blinded with science.” Phoenix laughed and Miles laughed along with him, finding that it came easier than it had in what seemed like weeks.
“Celebratory dinner? We’ve won the first battle after all…” He pinned the phone between shoulder and ear, rifling the accordion file he carried for Klavier’s copy of the Reclassification document, humming in approval when Phoenix agreed, suggesting one of their favorite hole-in-the-wall places and offering to round up Apollo if he would be good enough to get Klavier. “I’m certain he’ll be on board after I give him the news. See you at six then… Huh? Later…? Y-yes of course… Phoenix! This is not the time! You… Damn it, Wright… I- I love you too… Idiot.” Miles hung up, cheeks painted with a blush which only intensified when he noticed Klavier’s secretary smirking merrily at him from behind her reception desk. He shoved the phone into his inside pocket with an embarrassed cough and straightened his lapels as she motioned for him into enter the prosecutor’s office.
When he walked in, Klavier was already on his feet, looking terrified but his expression instantly broke into a joyful grin when Miles brandished the Reclassification document at him with a smile. He staggered back a step as he was forcefully hugged by the exuberant prosecutor. Chuckling, Miles tried to regain his balance while returning Klavier’s embrace a bit awkwardly. Patting the blond on the back companionably, he stepped back when he was released. Klavier now only looked relieved and exhausted, smiling but tired and frazzled and thin. Miles frowned, becoming concerned.
“Klavier, have you been eating properly? I realize that remaining so uninvolved must be killing you but please trust us alright? Trust us because we will win this; we hold all the cards.” He smiled reassuringly as the prosecutor slumped against a stack of speakers, looking abashed and brushing his bangs back from his eyes.
“Ja… I just haven’t had so much of an appetite lately… but now that you mention it… I am starving, Herr Edgeworth.” The blonde looked up at him again, grinning and Miles returned his smile, picking up the man’s purple jacket from the back of a paper strewn desk chair and handing to him.
“Let’s go then, Apollo and Phoenix will be meeting us at Leo’s Pub in an hour so I hope you’re in the mood for a good steak and the company of friends. After dinner, we’ll go see your brother. He’s being moved tonight.” Klavier nodded, accepting the jacket and shrugging it on. He shut off his computer quickly and buzzed his secretary to inform her he was leaving for the day before turning back toward Miles with a brilliant, happy smile.
“Herr Edgeworth… I have never been so much in the mood for steak and friends as I am right now.”
-TBC!-