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The phone rang at the Wright Anything Agency, snapping Phoenix’s attention away from his paperwork. He grabbed the phone, placing it between his ear and shoulder and continued to work. “Wright Anything Agency, Phoenix speaking.”
A female voice came over the line. “Mr. Wright? My name is Miss Pauling. I’ve got a job for you.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “What kind of job?”
Trucy perked up from where she was sitting on the couch, obviously interested. He waved her off, and she sat back down, going back to practicing her magic tricks.
“I need a lawyer, and a good one. I am currently representing three men, falsely accused of murder, among other things. I understand that’s right up your alley?”
He set the pen down and turned his full attention to the conversation at hand. “I only try to protect the innocent, Miss Pauling. For me to take this job, I’ll need to talk to the defendants.”
Miss Pauling sighed on the other side of the line. “I was hoping you wouldn’t say that. How about we talk about pay?”
She whispered a number, easily in the seven figures. Phoenix dropped the phone, scrambling to pick it up.
Most of the work he does is pro bono, but it allows him to keep his morals. It worked out fine when he was a single man, but now he has a family to take care of. This payment could relieve financial stress for the Agency for years. He could finally afford to get Trucy the magic props she always wanted. They could stop living at the office and get an actual apartment. Athena could finally get her long-overdue raise.
Phoenix debated internally. His morals versus his financial comfort. He glanced over at Trucy, who was lazily putting and taking apart her trick rings. He wouldn’t get another offer like this, ever.
“I’ll take it.” His voice was shaky.
“That’s just what I like to hear, Mr. Wright. If you look through your mail, you’ll see a plane ticket and a manilla folder. The plane ticket is for tomorrow morning, don’t miss it. The folder contains everything you need to know to win this case. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Wright. I hope you enjoy Teufort!”
The line went dead.
Phoenix placed it back on the receiver, rubbing his eyes. Sure enough, when he checked the mail that day, the items were there. Placing them on the table, he left to go pack his bags.
~~~
Teufort was a small town, surrounded for miles by the pure desert. It was definitely very different from the big rural city that he lived and worked in.
If you ignored the fact that the town square was also the city dump, it was charming. There were bars and markets lined up in the streets, and many of the locals were out and about. They all seemed to be heading toward the same location, though.
Phoenix felt very out of place in his three-piece suit, standing under the desert sun. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a woman walking up to him. He ignored her, looking down at a map until she tapped his shoulder.
“Mr. Wright? Miss Pauling. Nice to meet you.” A hand was stuck out to greet him.
She was a younger woman, with black hair tied back into a low bun. She wore a purple shirt, with white around the edges, tucked into a darker purple pencil skirt. Her legs were covered by dark tights, which were slightly ripped around her right knee. She wore black glasses, black block kitten heels, and a black belt to tie it all together. Phoenix was reminded of Maya, in a weird way.
He shook her hand.
“As much as I would love to stay here and chat, we need to get going to the courthouse. The trial doesn’t start for another hour, but there’s a crowd gathering and I would like you to actually meet your clients.” Pauling grabbed him by the arm and began pulling him in the direction of a big crowd.
The courthouse was similar to his own, at least on the outside. It was a big, white building, with marble pillars and large staircases. Outside, there seemed to be a fair of some kind, very similar to what happened during the DeMasque Trial. Vendors sold t-shirts, postcards, voodoo dolls, and sweets. Phoenix felt a knot begin to form in his stomach. Only the thought of making Trucy’s future financially stable kept his feet moving forward.
Pauling led him to Defendant’s Lobby No. 2, where three men stood. They all were conversing amongst themselves until they heard the two come in.
The first one seemed young, probably in his early twenties, and he wore a standard blue suit. It was baby blue but darker than Phoenix’s own waistcoat. It seemed a little too big in his shoulders, but otherwise suited him nicely. He had a boyish face and brown hair, complete with buckteeth. He seemed to radiate confidence, though it could easily be cockiness.
The second one seemed older, probably in his early to late forties, though Phoenix couldn’t get a good look at his face. He wore a blue army helmet that covered his eyes and the top half of his nose. His suit consisted of a blue army jacket (holding some metals that Phoenix hadn’t seen before), a brown sash, and trousers. For whatever reason, he was wearing an attorney’s badge, even though Pauling had hired Phoenix.
The third man was the oldest, old enough to be the first man’s dad. He wore matching blue gloves, balaclava, and suit. The suit seemed expensive and fit the man nicely. He was observing Phoenix, looking him up and down with a calculated gaze.
As they approached, the three men turned to them, falling silent. The youngest man waved to them, recognizing Miss Pauling.
“Hello, boys. This is Mr. Phoenix Wright, he will be your attorney today.”
One of the men spoke up. “Question!” His voice was gruff and military-like.
Pauling pointed at him. “Yes, Soldier?’
“I thought I was going to be the lawyer.”
Pauling rolled her eyes. “Soldier, we agreed, Merasmus giving you a J.D. and badge does not make you a lawyer! Listen, the Administrator needs you guys alive and free, so I’ve brought the best lawyer this side of the Dustbowl to help us out.”
The youngest man stepped up to Phoenix. “So you’re gonna get us outta this?”
Phoenix nodded mutely.
The man smiled, sticking out his hand. “My name is Jeremy, but you can call me Scout. Listen, man, I swear I did not put that bomb there!”
Phoenix shook his hand, swallowing down his nausea. “I know.” Scout stepped away, and the military man stepped in, sticking his hand out.
“Sargeant Doe, Sir! Privates call me Soldier. We need to win this battle and this war, pal!” As they shook hands, Phoenix was reminded of Detective Gumshoe. Maybe when this was over he would call and invite him to dinner in the Wright Mansion.
Soldier stepped out of the way, revealing the final man. He stuck his hand out gently. “Spy. I’ve heard of you, monsieur. The Turnabout Terror. The first person to beat legendary prosecutors Miles Edgeworth and Manfred von Karma. I have no reason to doubt your abilities, but I have a cyanide tooth ready just in case.”
Phoenix didn’t know whether to laugh or not, shaking his hand. Pauling glanced down at her watch, before gasping and gathering her things. “I need to get going boys, I’ve got a meeting. Call me about the verdict alright?” Her arms full of folders, Pauling ran out of the defendant’s lobby.
Before the attorney and his clients could have any sort of heart-to-heart, the courtroom doors opened, revealing a bailiff. It was showtime.
~~~
Courtroom No. 2 itself looked similar to the courtrooms he routinely worked in. However, instead of the two attorney’s benches facing each other, they both faced the judge’s bench. The gallery sat behind the benches, providing a walkway to the front of the room.
Phoenix filed in behind a bailiff, leading Scout, Soldier, and Spy. He was seated to the far left, with the defendants sitting next to him. The right bench was empty, as was the judge’s stand.
While they were waiting, the attorney looked over the manilla folder again. Their case didn’t look good, with security footage and fingerprints placing them at the scene. There was other circumstantial evidence as well, such as hair and the fact that the murder weapon came from Mann Co., the company they were employed by. It certainly wasn’t the worst case he’d ever had, but that case had also consisted of Maya being kidnapped.
Beside him, the defendants were talking. Something about a bomb charity? Phoenix didn’t know, nor did he want to ask. They were finally silenced when the bailiff motioned for them to stand up in honor of the judge.
The Judge was an older man, with white hair that was receding. He wore traditional judge’s robes, with a white shirt and red tie. He wore a grumpy face, the wrinkles permanently showing his displeasure.
Behind him, the prosecutor stepped into the courtroom. When they met eyes, they both gasped. It was Gaspen Payne! The last anyone saw of him, he was still in Khura’in. He was still wearing that hideous golden suit but without the sash or crown. Gaspen simply narrowed his eyes at him and took his place behind the bench.
The Judge banged his gavel when everyone was set. “The People of Teufort vs Scout, Soldier, and Spy of BLU may now begin! The charges set against them are: five counts of first-degree murder, seven counts of property damage, and eleven counts of serious bodily injury. Prosecutor Payne, your opening statement.”
Gaspen stepped out from behind the desk, nodding. “People of Teufort, RED and BLU have been terrorizing us since before we were born. These filthy scoundrels have finally been captured, and it is our turn to deliver justice. The incident in question involves a Mann Co. bomb being set off remotely in the local mall Santa training facility. The bloodshed that runs from the Mann family needs to stop. That begins right here, right now, with putting these mercenaries away for good!”
The gallery cheered, obviously in agreement. Phoenix was shocked, however. Nowhere in Pauling’s file mentioned his clients being mercenaries! He glanced over to Scout, who just shrugged his shoulders.
When the cheering died down, Payne spoke again. “The prosecution would like to call the lead detective at the scene to the stand!”
~~~
The detective was unlike what Phoenix was expecting. He was tall and lanky, wore jeans and a button-down, and large circle glasses. His hair was reddish-brown, and it was violently curly. His detective’s badge was worn on his chest, hung on a ball chain.
“Please state your name and occupation for the court.”
“My name is William Horace, and I am the detective of this town.”
Gaspen nodded. “Would you be willing to provide your testimony about the events in question?”
Horace nodded, before beginning. “It was last Wednesday, probably about 2 in the afternoon. Three men deliver a large package to the mall Santa training facility down the street. When it’s time to open the mail, boom! Everyone and everything in the close vicinity is gone! Out of the shrapnel, we find three pieces of important evidence. One, Spy’s fingerprints. Two, Scout’s hair. Three, a Purple Heart. Therefore, it stands to reason that those three men are involved in the bombing.” He pointed to the defendants.
Phoenix finished taking his notes on a legal pad and looked up. He hasn’t had testimony this flimsy since the first Larry Butz trial. Newfound confidence followed him as he stood up to begin his cross-examination.
“Mr. Horace, do you find anything odd about the evidence you found?”
The detective shook his head no.
“Let’s go back to your testimony then, shall we? You said, quote, ‘Everyone and everything in the close vicinity is gone!’ Don’t you think it’s a little odd that three, perfectly intact pieces of evidence are found in the shrapnel?”
Horace squirmed. “It’s possible,” he squeaked out. “I just think we got lucky.”
“It’s good to know our justice system is built on luck. Let’s say, for the sake of simplicity, that this evidence really came from the bomb, and therefore, the true culprit. Let’s talk about fingerprints.” He turned to Spy, who had an amused smile on his face. “I would like to state for the record that the defendant known as Spy is wearing gloves at the moment. Spy, do you wear gloves often?”
“All the time.”
Phoenix turned back to the court. “The only reason Spy here would take off his gloves is for a special occasion, correct?” Spy nodded behind him. “Why would he take off gloves to build or touch a bomb? It just doesn’t make any sense. Anyone with half a brain would be aware that they were intentionally incriminating themselves.”
Phoenix paused for a bit, glancing over his notes again. “Moving on, the hair. Tell me, Mr. Horace, how was this hair analyzed?”
“Uhhh...Medulla Index?”
The defense attorney broke out into a huge smile. “Why is that?”
Horace shifted in his seat. “We couldn’t find a skin tag.”
The Judge looked confused. “What are you talking about?”
Phoenix gestured to a picture of a hair under a microscope that had been pulled up on the courtroom monitors. “The hair consists of three parts: the cuticle, the cortex, and the medulla. The outside layer, the cuticle, tells us what animal gave us the hair. The cortex, the middle layer, tells us what color the hair is. The medulla, the inside layer, can help pinpoint the individual that gave us the hair. However, this isn’t an exact science, mostly guesswork. Without DNA testing, there is no way to prove that this hair came from Scout’s head.”
Scout gave him a thumbs up. Horace shifted lower in his seat.
“Finally, the purple heart.” Phoenix closed his eyes and thought for a second. How could he disprove that one?
When he opened is eyes, he saw Scout waving him over wildly. He walked over.
“I know how you can prove that the Purple Heart isn’t Soldier’s!”
Phoenix looked at him quizzically. “How?”
“Soldier was never in the- ACK!”
Scout was tackled to the ground by an angry Soldier. “OBJECTION!” Scout yelled as he was being punched in the face. Phoenix took a step back, distancing himself from the fighting men. Bailiffs rushed over to break them up, and he caught Spy’s gaze. They both shrugged, pulled back to reality by the gavel banging.
~~~
Twenty minutes and two pairs of handcuffs later, the prosecution was ready to call its next witness. Surprisingly, it was Scout.
“Name and occupation for the court, please?”
“My name is Scout, and I work for Blutarch Mann as a mercenary.” Spy facepalmed as the knot in Phoenix’s stomach tightened.
Payne nodded like this was old news. “Give us your testimony then.”
Scout nodded. “Let me tell you a story...Once upon a time, there were two men who ran a not-for-profit charity that gave bombs to the poor. One day, Archibald (one of the owners) brought Julius (the other owner) home a bomb given to them by an anonymous donor. It was a Swissmas miracle! It was an act of charity, to help the poor of Teufort.”
The court was stunned into silence. Phoenix felt numb, all his hard work crumbling before his eyes.
The judge was the first one to speak. “You remember you’re under oath, correct?”
Scout nodded.
“Are you SURE that what you have just testified is the true version of events that lead to your detainment?”
Scout looked nervous, for a moment, before looking at Soldier behind the Defense’s desk. He gave a thumbs up (as well as he could in handcuffs), and Scout nodded. Phoenix and Spy were ignored.
“Yes. I swear that is exactly what happened.”
The Judge rolled his eyes. “Perjury is not taken lightly here, Scout.” Phoenix rolled his eyes.
“Unless you can name your accomplices, I will need to hand down my verdict.”
“WAIT!” Scout yelled. “I can totally name names! I’m your man! Spy and Soldier helped me blow up the training facility!”
Phoenix’s mouth dropped open and he let out an undignified squawk. Soldier jumped up, breaking his handcuffs, and attacked Scout again. “JUDAS!” He yelled, practically strangling Scout. Spy just rolled his eyes, crossing his arms.
The Judge banged his gavel, trying to recover order. No one was having it. Bailiffs rushed out to contain all three mercenaries, and it finally calmed down when they were restrained.
“I sentence you three to community service! Court is Adjourned!”
~~~
The flight home was uneventful. After they were sentenced, Miss Pauling had written him his check, handed him a plane ticket, and sent him home. She had also apologized for Scout’s behavior and thanked him for his time. Either way, the trial was over, for better or for worse.
Phoenix wondered if he could’ve done anything to save that trial. If Gaspen hadn’t called Scout as a witness, things probably would’ve ended in their favor.
Weeks passed, and one day, when he was opening his mail at his new apartment, he found a strange letter. It was addressed to him, but it was from Teufort, New Mexico. He inspected it, before curiosity got the best of him and he opened the letter.
Inside it were three items.
First, a small, human tooth, which was apparently Soldier’s, but he lost it during the trial so he wanted Phoenix to have it.
Second, a handwritten apology from Scout saying he was sorry for throwing the trial.
Lastly, a Teufort newspaper detailing how the mercenaries had killed Santa.
Phoenix began to read the article but stopped when he heard his phone ring.
“Mr. Wright? It’s Miss Pauling.”