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If there were two things Klavier Gavin wanted as a prosecutor, it was the ability to adapt quickly to sudden changes and the ability to trust his opponent.
This was a sentiment that many in his class had struggled to understand. When assigned to write essays about which values expressed in the assigned reading they wanted to embody, many had chosen things like ruthlessness and preparation, citing cases from 2016 or earlier. Klavier, however, had cited State v. Engarde 2018, noting how Miles Edgeworth had to not only prepare quickly to take over when the original prosecutor was injured, but when an assassin’s calling card appeared unexpectedly, he had to also revise his presentation of the case and summon new witnesses accordingly.
Still, when he’d had to defend his stance in front of the class, he had been just as unsure as everyone else why Edgeworth had rested his case. By all accounts, the decision didn’t make sense– he had a perfect case, but was allowing the defense to claim victory with a testimony that was shady at best. If it had been Kristoph acting as Matt Engarde’s attorney, that was an opening Klavier was certain he would have taken.
As soon as he could, he’d asked Professor Courte for her opinion on the matter.
“Oh, in State v. Engarde?” she had said. “There’s a lot more to that one than meets the eye. I’ve had entire class sessions of just students debating how they would handle remote testimony from an assassin.” She’d laughed for a moment before continuing. “But as for Edgeworth… there was a lot going on, but I think the real reason he rested was because of the trust between him and Wright, trust built on a deep history together. I don’t think he would have done that for anyone else.”
Klavier remembered reading about a few of the cases Edgeworth had done with Phoenix Wright prior to the Engarde case. He supposed that was where this deep history of trust had come from. It must be nice to have an opponent one can genuinely trust, he supposed.
Fortunately for him, his brother was a defense attorney. Once Klavier passed the bar, they agreed that they would do his first case together. A fair fight, brother against brother.
However, on the day before the trial, Kristoph came to his office to tell him that he would not be participating.
“The attorney who’ll be there in my place tomorrow is not to be trusted,” Kristoph told him. “Don’t even give him the benefit of your respect.”
Klavier didn’t ask too many questions, accepting his brother’s notes and the special witness’s contact information in the same way he imagined Edgeworth accepting the assassin’s card. He briefly lamented that he wouldn’t be doing his first trial against his brother, but consoled himself with the thought that, if he played it right, it would be like prosecuting the defense attorney as well as the defendant.
Out of curiosity, as soon as Kristoph left, Klavier searched up who his bonus defendant would be.
His heart sank as soon as he saw who it was. The man his brother had accused of preparing a forgery, who therefore didn’t deserve his trust or respect, was none other than the defense attorney on State v. Engarde: Phoenix Wright.
Could it be? Was this the secret to his success, the reason why the Engarde case was the only one he had ever lost? Klavier had studied several of Wright’s other cases, particularly the ones that also involved Edgeworth. Was it possible he had prepared forgeries for those as well?
But then again… he thought back to what Prof. Courte had said about the Engarde case. Edgeworth had trusted Wright not to take the easy opening because of their history together. If Wright had won their previous cases with forgeries, Edgeworth most likely wouldn’t have trusted him enough to rest his case at that moment.
As much as Klavier wanted to believe his brother, he didn’t like what it implied about the man he had come to respect as something of an idol in the last few years of his studies. Still… he glanced at the case notes scattered on his desk along with the special witness’s business card, an uneasy feeling gnawing at the pit of his stomach.
Prof. Courte had always said to consider all sides of a case. Perhaps he would ask Edgeworth himself. He’d always wanted to talk to him and this was as good a reason as any. He stood up from his desk and stretched, making his way to the twelfth floor.
Klavier took a deep breath and knocked on Edgeworth’s office door.
Maybe he wasn’t here. Maybe he was out investigating somewhere, or still at court, or holding the hand of some other confused rookie– that last thought made him seethe silently for a moment– and Klavier would have an excuse to forget about this.
“Come in,” Edgeworth said after a moment.
There was no going back now. Heart pounding, Klavier opened the door and stepped inside.
As impressive as he found Edgeworth, he had never actually had the opportunity or a particular reason to talk to him, a fact he instantly regretted. The man’s presence was overwhelming. If Klavier were one to shake in his boots, he absolutely would– instead, he ran a hand through his hair, doing his best to play off the nerves.
“Did you need something?” Edgeworth asked, his steely gaze holding Klavier in place.
Don’t be intimidated, Klavier told himself. When he got nervous before a concert, he sometimes tried imagining that everyone present was in their underwear. Usually, those mental images turned into fans throwing clothes at his feet on stage, so they worked to overcome general stage fright. Now, however, he found that the “imagine them in their underwear” trick was the last thing he needed.
“Ja,” he made himself say. “I wanted to ask for… help with a case.” Noticing that he had Edgeworth’s attention, he continued quickly, “How can I know that my… information is trustworthy?”
Edgeworth looked thoughtful, if mildly annoyed. “I can’t answer without more information,” he said. “What brought this on exactly?”
Klavier swallowed nervously. “I was… informed my opponent tomorrow may have prepared a forgery,” he said. “I didn’t want to believe it, but I wanted to ask. You know him better than I, ja?”
“Possibly,” Edgeworth said. “Who is your opponent?”
No point in beating around the bush any longer. “My opponent tomorrow is Phoenix Wright.”
To say that Miles was taken aback would be an understatement.
He knew, in theory, that evidence forgery was a possibility to consider. While he had never knowingly used forgeries, he had found out once, two years after closing one of his cases and after the suspect had been executed, that he had been given forged evidence to present. His… former mentor had boasted forty years of perfect victory, and although Miles couldn’t possibly know how many of those victories had been earned dishonestly, he knew there had been at least one case in which von Karma had knowingly used a forgery.
In Miles’ experience, forgery was only done in situations where someone would do literally anything to win their case regardless of the facts or if there was a critical fact someone needed to cover. He knew Phoenix Wright better than anyone and neither of those descriptions matched him. Even more pertinently, Phoenix hadn’t been on a case yesterday. Whatever case he was on now against Prosecutor Gavin, he must have only accepted it today– certainly, this didn’t leave enough time for him to have forged evidence.
“Do you truly believe that Wright could have prepared a forgery?” he asked the teenager in front of him.
Gavin twisted his necklace between his fingers, shrinking away from him ever so slightly. It seemed that this was what he did when he didn’t want to answer. “How can I be sure?” he asked evasively. “As you may know, I have yet to make my debut performance in the courtroom.”
So Gavin wanted information from him, but was unwilling to share anything meaningful on his end. Miles supposed it was time to use his tried and true interrogation tactic.
First, his opening move. “What makes you suspect Wright of forgery?”
“It’s not as though I have proof,” Gavin said, continuing to fiddle with his necklace. “Only a hunch, no more.”
Miles tapped a finger against his arm, remaining silent.
“What I do have,” Gavin continued, “is someone telling me Phoenix Wright is not to be trusted, and that I should call a forger as a special witness.”
That caught Miles’ attention. “So your source told you how to contact this forger. Is that correct?”
Gavin covered his ears for a moment and shook his head. “...I have the forger’s contact information,” he finally admitted.
So there was a source who had told Gavin to suspect Phoenix and that source had provided him with a forger’s contact information. This was critical testimony. Miles would have to ask for more information before proceeding.
“Did your source explain why they suspect Wright?” he asked.
Gavin looked thoughtful for a moment, snapping his fingers to an imaginary tune. “He didn’t explain exactly,” he said, “but he showed me all of the evidence he had collected. I should think that would be good enough, ja?”
Miles pressed the point further. “Evidence of Wright preparing a forgery?”
“Not exactly,” Gavin admitted. “He showed me case evidence. Stage pistols, letters, the victim’s IV bag, the victim’s diary… he explained to me exactly which evidence Herr Wright would have forged.”
So whoever Gavin’s source was had been investigating the case he was working on. This would be a useful clue. “Do you trust this person?” Miles asked.
“Of course,” Gavin said quickly. “I trust him more than anyone.”
So he and the source knew each other well. Another useful clue. Time for the big question. “And who, might I ask, told you all of this?”
“J-just an anonymous source,” Gavin muttered, fiddling with a short strand of hair. “I wouldn’t exactly say I know this person well.”
Time to use that clue. “You said you trust this person more than anyone,” Miles said. “I hardly think you would say that about someone you didn’t know.”
Gavin winced, covering his ears for a moment. “No! Okay, fine. This is someone I know. But… it’s not as though he is involved in this case, ja?”
Time for another clue. “On the contrary, your source had a lot of case evidence to show you.” Miles felt a smug smile cross his face, even though he wasn’t cornering an opponent. “In fact, it sounds as though he was investigating the case to begin with before he made any accusations against Wright. I’d say that makes him involved, wouldn’t you agree?”
And with that, it was checkmate.
“Fine,” Gavin said quietly. “I’ll tell you. The person who accused Herr Wright is… my brother.”
“Kristoph?” Miles asked.
Gavin nodded in confirmation.
Miles had met Kristoph Gavin before. He usually defended celebrities, at least on the cases they had done together, and every one of his clients on those cases had clearly been guilty. However, unlike Phoenix who had changed to a guilty plea in the face of undeniable evidence, the older Gavin maintained that it would take only the most decisive of evidence to prove his clients’ guilt, latching onto every little perceived flaw in the hopes of securing an acquittal. Miles had still managed to convict those celebrities, but the storm that brewed behind the defense’s bench reminded him eerily of the mock trials he had done under von Karma’s supervision.
“And he was investigating the same case as you…” The information clicked together. “When I spoke with Wright yesterday, he wasn’t investigating any cases. Was your brother going to be your opponent?”
Gavin nodded again. “Ja, that was what we agreed. A fair fight, brother against brother.”
Miles knew that having a relative as an opposing counsel was seen as questionable. Not that he had any room to talk, given that he had done part of a trial against Franziska himself while pretending to be a defense attorney. Still, he was aware that the von Karma household wasn’t exactly normal in that regard, and while he and Franziska were perfectly capable of opposing each other in court as an extension of their childhood rivalry, the same couldn’t be said for all siblings. Especially if his growing hypothesis turned out to be true.
“When he accused Wright of forgery,” Miles said evenly, “you said he told you exactly which piece of evidence was forged?”
“Ja,” Gavin said, back to fiddling with his hair. “He said it was a page from the victim’s diary. I don’t know exactly, but he suggested it might say something about him living past 11:05 PM.” He reached into the pocket of his loud purple jacket and pulled out a business card. “To prove it was a forgery, he told me to call a special witness and gave me the forger’s contact information.”
That was… incredibly specific. “Wright only accepted the case today,” said Miles. “And the trial is tomorrow, yes?” When Gavin nodded, he continued. “Assuming for the sake of argument that Wright did prepare the forgery, he would need to have figured out which piece of evidence would secure an acquittal and placed an order to this forger, after which he would expect to receive a completed forgery within less than a day.” He leveled a steely glare at the card in Gavin’s hand. “Logistically speaking, that is beyond impossible. And yet, this is a scheme your brother claims to have inordinate knowledge of.”
Gavin grimaced, clenching a fist around the business card. “What are you suggesting, Herr Edgeworth?”
Miles took a deep breath. No matter how many times he did this, it never got any easier. “I’m sorry, Prosecutor Gavin. But I don’t think he truly intended it to be a fair fight.”
“I… I see.” Gavin pressed his lips together and pushed up his indoor sunglasses, clearly struggling to maintain a composed appearance. “Danke for your time, Herr Edgeworth.” And with that, he left the office, the forger’s business card dropping from his hand as he turned the doorknob.
Miles picked up the card and examined it. Drew Misham, it read, along with a mailing address. A lead for another investigation, he thought as he copied down the information in his organizer.
For now, however, he would tell Phoenix what he had found out today. If his suspicion was correct, someone had developed a petty grudge against his partner, and that person had a forged diary page up their sleeve.