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Chapter Text

“I know it’s a bit late, but happy one year!” A woman with short brown hair smiles at her husband. She adjusts her teal glasses, and holds his hand.

“I can’t believe I’ve only known you for a year, it feels like we’ve known each other for far longer,” her husband says. 

“I wanted to come here because I got something for you,” the woman says. “Come on, let’s go in!”

The two enter a quaint little bakery, but then the man screams.

“Tessy, what’s wrong-” the woman asks, then she screams as well.

“I’ll call the police, you get out of here,” the man says. “Run!”

“I’m staying with you!” The woman says. “Someone has to protect you and I’m not opposed to stabbing in self defense.”

“Then stay close to me,” the man says. “…I love you.”

“Why do things like this always happen whenever you visit your friend?”

“I’d like to know that too.”

Chapter Text

October 23rd

Andersen Law Firm

9:45 am

I wake up on the couch in my office. For the third time in the past week. (I really need to stop trying to pull all-nighters, this can’t be good for my back)

“Pappa, are you finally awake?” I hear Ariana’s voice, and I open my eyes completely. Lo and behold, there she is, crossing her arms and looking upset. “You said you’d stop falling asleep here a long time ago!”

“God morgen, datter,” I say, letting out a groan as I get up. “Did you get breakfast?”

“Yeah, like three slices of leftover pizza,” Ariana says. “If you give me like $20 I can just go buy myself food at the store while you snooze away.”

“Yes vell, perhaps in the future,” I say. “Vat’s on the ayenda today?”

“There’s been a murder,” Ariana says, and that wakes me up completely. 

“Vere?” I ask.

“Surfside bakery,” Ariana says. “The ocean-themed bakery with the little octopus cake pops and the hyper-realistic cakes. The accused’s name is Lee Baker.”

“Vell that sounds interesting,” I say. “Perhaps I should look into that case. Let’s go, Ariana.”

“Wait,” Ari says. “Before we go… Can we talk about… her?”

(Oh. Right. I still haven’t told her the whole story, have I?)

>Legalle

“Why’d you have to go and break up with Legalle like that?” Ariana asks, crossing her arms. “She was nice.”

“She really vasn’t,” I say. “Ve vere dating for two veeks. She’s the one that initiated it, anyvays.”

“...Yeah you’re right,” Ariana says. “She was a bit of a bitch.”

“Language!” I say.

“Sorry,” Ariana says. “She was a bit of a tispe.”

“That’s better,” I say.

“So… why’d you even break up?” she asks, and I scoff.

“According to her, I’m “Impossible to have fun with”,” I say, trying to imitate my ex’s American accent. “Eugh, that felt horrible. Never doing that again.”

“That sounded just like her!” Ariana says. “It’s unfortunate… but hey, you’re still here!”

“I’ll alvays be here for you, Ariana,” I say. “I am your father after all.”

“I love you, pappa,” Ariana says, hugging me.

(I love you too, Ari.)

“Well, let’s go to the scene of the crime!” Ariana says.

“No, ve should go to the detention center first,” I say. “No use investigating if ve don’t have a client.”

“Ah! You’re right,” Ariana says. “To the jail!”

10:10am

Detention Center

“Hej,” I say, trying to sound warm and trustworthy. “Are you Lee Baker?”

“Why yes I am, sir!” The woman across from me says. She has long blonde hair and brown eyes, and is wearing a chef uniform. “Are you here to take my case?”

“Yes,” I say. “My name is Archibald Andersen. I am prepared to get to the truth of this case.”

“And I’m Ariana, his daughter!” Ariana says, and Baker smiles.

“And I’m Lee Baker,” she says. “I decorate the cakes sold at the bakery.”

“Could you tell us a bit about the crime?” I ask, and Baker nods.

>What happened

“Vat happened?” I ask. 

“Well, yesterday at about 7am,” Baker says, “I was opening up the bakery when the murder happened. My boss, Victoria Sponge, got murdered. She got stabbed with a bread knife, it went clean through her heart apparently. Death was instantaneous.”

“How do you know this?” Ariana asks.

“The detective told me,” Baker says. “Although I must say she seems a bit young to be a detective. You should probably talk to her to get more information, I don’t know the ins and outs of the crime.”

“Ve certainly vill,” I say.

>Lack of knowledge

“Vy don’t you know much about the crime?” I ask, and Baker looks away as if in shame.

“I didn’t do it, obviously!” She yells, still not making eye contact. “I wasn’t even in the bakery at the estimated time of death! You gotta believe me!”

“We believe you!” Ariana says, a determined sparkle in her eyes. “We will get to the bottom of this case!”

“Oh thank you!” She’s facing me again, and looks like she’s about to cry. “Please! Prove my innocence so I can go back to my bakery!”

(Wait, her bakery?)

>Your bakery

“Vich of you owned the bakery?” I ask.

“I do,” Baker says. “Ms Sponge was my boss, but I owned the building.”

“How exactly did that work?” Ariana asks, and Baker shrugs.

“I dunno how to explain it,” She says. “It just… did. I sold the rights to do business in the building to her, and in turn she hired me to work for her.”

“Interesting,” I say. (And complicated, no doubt.)

>Victoria Sponge

“Could you tell me a bit about the victim?” I ask, and Baker smiles sadly.

“She was such a nice woman,” She says. “I… I have a secret. I haven’t told anyone this, not even the prosecutor.”

“Vat is it?” I ask, although based on her expression I have a feeling I know what it is.

“We were… lovers,” Baker says. “So it’s even more insulting that I’m being accused of this!”

(A truly tragic thought indeed…)

“Why would someone kill their partner?” Airana asks, concern evident in her voice. “I mean, you’re supposed to be there for them! Clearly you’re innocent and we will prove that!”

The whole world seems to stop for a second in my mind.

(Supposed to be there for them.)

(Someone was supposed to be there for me.)

(Her face… why can’t I remember my sister’s face?)

(Mother. Father. What happened to them all those years ago?)

(Why did they send me here instead of-)

“Pappa?” Ariana asks, which pulls me out of my thoughts. “I asked if we are going to leave now.”

“Oh,” I say, slightly disoriented. “Yes, yes ve vill. Let’s go, Ariana.”

“Alright!” She says, smiling. (She didn’t seem to notice me being lost in thought… good. I don’t want to explain this to her when I don’t fully understand it myself…)

11:00am

Surfside Bakery

“-And I said “Hey, I’m only an alleged arsonist”!” A familiar voice is talking to someone else. “Oh shit, someone’s here. I need to pretend like I’ve been working the entire time.” 

As I suspected, the person talking is none other than Detective Lynn. She turns to me and smiles.

“Hello there, Anna from Frozen. What brings you here?”

“HAH!” Another voice says. “Oh my god, you’re so right he DOES look like her!”

“Detective,” I growl, “Who’s your friend, and vat are they doing at the crime scene?”

“Oh!” Gremmy laughs. “This is one of our witnesses.”

“Not the first time I’ve been one for a murder,” the other person says. She smiles, and waves at me. “Hello, the name’s Charity Layne, MD, FACS. What’s your name, handsome?”

“My name is Archibald Andersen, Attorney at Law,” I say, showing her my badge. (She called me “Handsome”...)  “I’m Ms Baker’s attorney.”

“And I’m his daughter, Ariana Andersen!” Ariana says. “Nice to meet you Dr Layne!”

“Can ve look at the crime scene?” I ask, and Gremmy nods.

“Fucking go for it,” she says. “I don’t have a boss that hands out pay cuts like paper cuts. I’ll be here talking to Charity.”

(She and the witness are on a first name basis… interesting…)

>examine chalk outline

“So this is vere the victim died?” I ask, and Gremmy nods.

“Stabbed through the heart,” she says. “It was horrific. Blood everywhere, but at least it wasn’t a gun so I’m allowed to investigate.”

“Vat does that have to do vith anything?” I ask.

“Do I need to explain what PTSD is?” Gremmy sighs. “So basically: I shot a man-”

“You don’t need to recount your story, Detective,” I say. “I vas simply lurer på hva that had to do vith the case.”

“Oh God forbid I say anything about myself,” Gremmy snaps. “Except guess what? He doesn’t! I’ve read the Bible and not once does he say anything like “thou shalt not make small talk”. Fucking… grow up, dude.”

“You’re religious?” Ariana asks, and I suddenly feel very uncomfortable.

“Catholic,” she responds. “I may not look it, but I go to church every Sunday morning and confession about once a year. I try my hardest to go to church on the holy days of obligation but sometimes I can’t make it-”

“Can ve please stop talking about religion? This is a murder scene.” I say, and Gremmy promptly shuts up.

>examine cakes 

“There’s a very odd cake here,” I say. “It looks yust like a gun.”

“Y-yeah,” Gremmy says, shaking slightly. “But it’s cake so it’s… it’s fine. Just… don’t make me look at it too closely.”

“I’d think that if you look at it closely, you’d be able to tell it’s not a real gun,” Ariana suggests. “Look, the trigger is broken off on the cake!”

“Perhaps,” Gremmy says, “but I’d rather not look at it… period.”

“Vy is there even a gun shaped cake here to begin vith?” I ask, and Dr Layne steps in.

“That would be because of me,” she says. “It was my anniversary with my beloved husband Kurt a month ago, I completely forgot to get him something so I got the cake commissioned.”

“You’re married?” I ask, taken aback completely. 

“Yup!” Dr Layne smiles. “Charity Layne-Tess. My husband, Prosecutor Kurt Tess, is going to be a witness tomorrow.”

“Vell… that’s good to know,” I say. (Dammit. She seemed so nice too. Well, nothing I can do about it.)

Gun Cake added to the court record.

>examine strange glint in the ground

“Vat’s this?” I ask myself, picking something small up.

“It’s a bullet I think,” Ariana says, quietly. “Let’s not show Gremmy this… I have a feeling she wouldn’t like it.”

“Good idea,” I say.

Stray Bullet added discreetly into the court record.

“Detective Lynn,” I say, approaching her, “May ve ask a few questions?”

“A few,” Gremmy says, crossing her arms. 

“You could talk to me too, if you wanted,” Dr Layne says. “I am gonna be a witness, so that could help your case.”

“I’ll talk to the detective first, Doctor,” I say, and Dr Layne seems to beam with pride.

>What happened?

“So, vat can you tell us about vat happened?” I ask, and Gremmy polishes her magnifying glass.

“The murder occurred at about 6-7am yesterday,” Gremmy explains. “The victim, Victoria Sponge, was stabbed through the heart with a bread knife. The defendant’s fingerprints were found on the weapon, but that unfortunately isn’t conclusive proof because of course they’d be on the bread knife. The defendant worked here, after all. She was the only person here that could’ve done it, we’ve ruled out suicide.”

“How can you be so sure it wasn’t suicide?” Ariana asks.

“Our witness here says she saw someone fleeing from the scene,” Gremmy says, motioning at Dr Layne. “Our other witness… He’s… there, I suppose.”

>Witnesses.

“Who is the second vitness?” I ask, and Dr Layne giggles.

“My amazing wonderful husband,” she says, blushing. “He’s so amazing, our one year marriage anniversary is in a few months.”

“I thought you said your one year anniversary vas a month ago?” I ask, and she just giggles again. 

“No, silly, it was the one-year anniversary of his divorce!” She giggles even more. (I don't think I can deal with this much longer.)

“Clearly ve have some things ve need to ask you, Doctor,” I say.

“Hit me,” Dr Layne says.

“Vy vould I do that?”

“No not literally-” Dr Layne sighs. “Just… ask your questions.”

>Dr Charity Layne

“So… who are you exactly?” I ask, and Dr Layne grins.

“Charity Layne, former MD, FACS.” She shows me her driver’s license. It has the Union Jack on it. “Currently, and for the past 16 years, I’ve been primarily a citizen of London, England, I do like to come back to the states every now and then to reminisce and enjoy the things I couldn’t back when I was controlled by the cult. And to visit my husband. He’s still working on passing the English Bar, and getting official citizenship. Well, I mean he also does live with me in London, but  that’s a whole other can of worms.''

“Vat the fuck?” I ask, and Dr Layne just giggles again. “Can you stop giggling for five minutes and make sense?”

“Nope!” She smiles.

(Oh this woman is infuriating…)

>Cult?

“Vat is this about a cult?” I ask.

“Dont worry about it,” Dr Layne says.

“I’m worried,” Ariana says.

“Don’t be,” Dr Layne says.

(Something tells me that’s all I’m getting out of her about this right now…)

>What you saw

“I know what you’re gonna ask me,” Dr Layne says, crossing her arms. “And I’m not gonna tell you anything about the scene. I’m not even gonna tell you I saw the defendant at the scene with the knife in her hand or that I saw her escape through the back door. Or point out the obvious contradiction between the supposed facts of the case and the scene itself. My lips are sealed.”

“Did you… mean to tell us all that?” I ask, and she giggles again.

“Me? Spill facts about the case to the defense? Noooooo, I’d never do that! Just like I’d never harbor a fugitive, lie to the police, or help bury a body.”

“You say that like you’ve done those things,” I point out.

“Well if hypothetically I helped bury a certain person in London, well that’s outside your jurisdiction ain’t it?” Dr Layne smiles again. (She scares me.) “Besides, I was proven innocent, I can’t be tried again.”

>Husband

“So you’re married?” Ariana asks, and Dr Layne covers her face.

“Yes,” She says, her smile evident in her voice. “I love him so much… He’s so cute!!! And so sweet, and so amazing, and so strong, and-”

“Ve get it, you’re in love vith your husband,” I say, unimpressed. (I hope I’m never like her when I find The One.) “And from vat I understand, he vill be testifying tomorrow?”

“Yup!” Dr Layne says. “He’s currently being questioned by the prosecution. I wonder if the reason it’s taken so long is because he won’t stop showing off pictures of his son.”

(I’m not going to ask, I don’t want to spend the next 5 hours hearing her gush about her family.)

I turn back to Gremmy. (There’s just one thing I want to ask her, then I think I’ll be ready.)

>The prosecutor

“Who is the prosecutor this time?” I ask, and the detective beams with pride.

“My boss!” She says happily. That smile then turns into a glare as she stares directly at me, as if into my soul. “If you yell at him he will cry and everyone will hate you. Well, more than they already do. And I will not hesitate to scream insults the likes of which you’ve never even imagined at you.”

“Vat, like calling me a disgrace or something?” I laugh. “Chances are, I’ve heard it. I have a lot of enemies.”

“No, more like calling you an absolute popsicle stick of a man, but like one that doesn’t even have a funny joke on it so it just gets thrown away at the end.”

“...Oh,” I say. (Point taken.)

“Vell, I think I’ve got all I need for tomorrow,” I say. “Thank you two, I suppose.”

“See ya tomorrow,” Gremmy says.

“See ya later,” Dr Layne says.

“Bye!” Ariana says, and we leave.

(Tomorrow is going to be quite a trial…)

Chapter Text

October 24th

9:15am

Defendant’s lobby #2

“I hope this trial will be over quickly,” Baker says. “I mean.. I want my bakery back!”

“You can count on us,” Ariana assures her. “We always get to the bottom of things!”

“That ve do,” I agree. “Vell, anything else you vant to tell us before the trial begins?”

“Just that I only partially believe in the stories everyone says about you,” Baker says.

“Stories? From everyone?” (I don’t know if I like that…)

“What kind of stories?” Ariana asks, and Baker looks saddened.

“That you don’t care about your clients,” she says. “That… that you help the prosecution by giving them evidence… that you only take on guilty clients so you can send them to hell yourself!”

“Hell really isn’t that bad,” I say. “That’s vere I’m from, after all.”

“Well that would explain a lot,” Baker says.

“Hell Norvay,” I correct. “It’s a village.”

“Ah, well, still,” Baker says, “you should really mind your reputation as a lawyer. How are you going to get more clients if you only damn them?”

“Are you doubting my ability as a lawyer?” I ask, glaring at her. (The nerve of this woman. If she doesn’t believe in me, she doesn’t need me to be her lawyer.)

“I’m not,” Baker sighs. “Just… maybe help me in this case, alright? There’s always more than meets the eye!”

(Which is exactly why I took your case, Ms Baker.)

“Defense!” The bailiff yells. “Get into the courtroom! Trial starts soon!”

“La oss danse,” I say.

9:30am

Courtroom #3

“We are here today for the trial of Ms Lee Baker!” The judge says. “Defense, are you ready?”

“Yes, your honor,” I say.

“The prosecution is ready! Your honor!” The prosecution yells before even being asked to speak. He fidgets with something in his hands, I think it’s some sort of extendable baton. “Um… I can give the opening statement right now! Because I’m Debeste!”

“You’re eager to begin, Prosecutor Debeste,” The judge says, smiling. “Very well then, your opening statement please!”

“Of course, your honor!” Debeste stands tall-well, as tall as he can be- and begins to speak. “The murder occurred at sidesurf bakery-”

“Obyection!” I yell. “It’s Surfside bakery!”

“I was in the middle of my opening statements,” Debeste whined, “Don’t interrupt me!!!!!”

“Stop vining and get the facts correct,” I say, glaring at him.

“I know, I made a mistake!” Debeste says. “You don’t need to be a bitch about it, defense!”

“Prosecutor Debeste!” The judge says, shocked. “Watch your language!”

“I’m an adult, your honor,” Debeste says, hitting his baton against the desk. “I can swear whenever I damn well please.”

“Not in court!” 

“…You’re right…” Debeste says, seeming to shrink in shame.

“It’s court, not radio,” I counter. “The FCC von’t shut this place down for “indecent language”. Say vatever you vant.”

“Thank you, defense!” Debeste says. “So as I was trying to say: The murder occurred at Surfside bakery at about 6-7am two days ago. The victim was found with a bread knife through her chest, the autopsy report says that death was likely due to being stabbed with the bread knife. The only person who could’ve done it was the defendant, and her fingerprints were on the handle as well!”

“But of course they vere,” I say. “She verks there, does she not?”

“I think we should turn our attention to the first witness,” Debeste says, not answering my question. “The prosecution wants to call Gremmy to the stand!”

(The judge isn’t even going to make him answer my question? Ugh. I have to do everything myself here.)

“Obyection!” I yell, and Debeste looks at me surprised. “Did you not hear my question? Vy vould Ms Baker’s fingerprints-”

“Shut up!” 

I’m stunned into silence, as I see Gremmy take the stand. 

“We are gonna get to that,” She says, glaring at me. “Be patient for once in your miserable life and let me testify!”

“My life isn’t “miserable”,” I counter.

“Shut UP!” Gremmy yells. “It’s bad enough I have to do this shit right now, can you just shut your fucking mouth for a goddamn second? I want to go home already.”

“Vat’s gotten into you, Detective?” I ask. 

“I’m on my period,” she says rather candidly. “Don’t look grossed out it’s not like I can fucking control it-”

“I’m not grossed out,” I say. “It's yust something that happens.” (I’m just glad it’s nothing personal.)

“Don’t worry, Grem,” Debeste says, “the pain medicine should kick in soon. You’re strong. You can do this.”

“Thanks, Sebby!” Gremmy says, smiling. “Ok, so testimony time! Let’s do this!”

Witness Testimony

-what the investigation uncovered-

The murder happened between 6 and 7am.

The victim was found with a bread knife stabbed through her heart.

The defendant’s fingerprints were found on the weapon.

Originally, this evidence was dismissed because the prosecution was under the belief that both parties handled the knife.

While that was true, a certain someone reminded us that chefs and bakers and the like tend to wear gloves when practicing their craft.

Ergo: the defendant’s fingerprints being on the weapon makes her the prime suspect.

“Vell. That certainly answered my question,” I say.

“Here’s the autopsy report, your honor,” Debeste says.

Sponge’s Autopsy Report added to the court record.

“AND. We’ve got a photo of the scene,” Debeste says.

Crime Photo added to the court record.

“Who was this “certain someone” you mentioned?” Ariana asks, and Gremmy beams.

“Uncle Lukey!” She says. “He’s probably watching from the gallery. Frosty-hair is probably there too, they can almost never be seen without each other.”

“Hmph,” I grunt. “Vell that has no relevance to the case.”

“I mean they’re relatives of mine,” Gremmy says. “Relative, Relation, I mean their etymological roots are different, I have a friend who loves talking about that-”

“Can ve get back to the case?” I ask, annoyed at this point.

“Shut the hell up, bitch,” Gremmy growls. “Fine. I could’ve told you something interesting but I guess you just hate fun.”

“I’m a lawyer,” I remind her. “That’s my yob.”

Cross-examination

-what the investigation uncovered-

>The victim was found with a bread knife stabbed through her heart.

“The knife vas found in the body ven the body vas discovered?” I ask. 

“Yup,” Gremmy says, polishing her magnifying glass. “There was blood everywhere, as well.”

(That’s it!)

“And therein lies a contradiction,” I say.

“What?” Debeste says, confused. “Where? Where’s this contradiction? Show us evidence of a contradiction!”

>present Crime Photo

“Are you avare how getting stabbed verks?” I ask Debeste.

“If you’re asking if I’ve ever stabbed someone, the answer is no,” Debeste says with a smug grin. “Why? Have you?”

“Ven someone gets stabbed,” I explain, “the mayority of the blood loss occurs after the weapon is removed. If the victim vas stabbed as is vat you are saying, there vould not be blood everyvere as seen in the crime photograph!”

“Whaaaaaaaat???” Debeste accidentally hits himself in the face with his baton. “Ow!!!”

“So you’re saying… what exactly?” Gremmy asks. “I mean, that just means she was stabbed more than once.”

“Vell that’s because-” I start, and then I realize I have no good rebuttal.

“Thought so,” Gremmy says with a smile. “Anything else, wise guy?”

“The defense…” I stop for a second.

(Is… is there anything else I can get out of this testimony?)

(…I don’t think there is.)

“The defense is done vith its cross-examination of the detective,” I say.

“Yay!” Debeste says, smiling. “Ok! Onto the next witness!”

A man dressed in a deep dark purple suit jacket and a black skirt approaches the stand. He adjusts his glasses and fidgets with what I can only assume is his wedding ring.

“Name and occupation?” Debeste asks.

“Oh uh… Kurt Tess, Prosecutor,” the man says in an accent completely unfamiliar to me. “I was with my amazing darling loving wife when I saw the scene.”

(What does that woman see in this man?)

Mr Tess smiles, and chuckles nervously. “Ope, I wasn’t supposed to say that yet, was I?”

(Nevermind, I see it now.)

“Could you please testify as to what you saw at the scene?” Debeste asks, pointing his baton at the witness.

“Sure thing, buddy!” 

Witness Testimony

-what I saw-

So I had just entered the bakery with my wife

I screamed immediately after I saw it!

There was this giant octopus right in the middle of the bakery!

Behind it, I caught a glimpse of a body!

There was a knife sticking out of it!

I wanted to approach the corpse to investigate more but the octopus scared me too much.

My wife was not deterred however, and she stayed with me while I called the police

“There was…” Debeste starts.

“En blekksprut?” I finish. “Vat the hell are you talking about?”

“I have a photo of it right here!” Mr Tess says. “Look! Right there in the middle of the bakery!”

Bakery Photo added to the court record.

In the photo there is very clearly a cake of an octopus in the center of the bakery.

(I know the defendant and the victim made hyper realistic cakes but anyone should be able to tell this one isn’t a real octopus.)

“Is he serious?” Ariana asks quietly, confused. “I mean… is he just genuinely an idiot or…”

“The defense is ready to begin cross-examination,” I say. 

Cross-Examination 

-what I saw-

>There was this giant octopus right in the middle of the bakery!

“OBYECTION!” I yell, and Mr Tess kicks the witness stand.

“Ow!” He immediately says after. 

I present the photo of the bakery. “You claim you saw… an octopus in the cafe?”

“Yes!” Mr Tess says. “Look! You can see it very clearly in the middle of the room!”

“That’s not an octopus, Prosecutor,” I sigh. “It’s very clearly a cake.”

“Wh-what??” Mr Tess kicks the witness stand again. “Ow!”

“The bakery is known for its hyper realistic cakes of sea creatures,” Debeste says, smirking. “That octopus was nothing more than a wonderful piece of craftswomanship from the wonderful chefs at the bakery.”

“You don’t have to say “craftswomanship”,” Gremmy says, now standing next to her boss. “You can just say craftsmanship.”

“But both the chefs are women,” Sebastian says. 

“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “Vitness! Your testimony is nonsense!”

“Uff da,” Mr Tess says.

“Don’t fucking patronize me!” I yell. “You are going to give good, honest, accurate testimony or so help me God Jeg kommer til å miste hodet.”

“Calm down, defense!” Debeste says, pointing his baton at me. “If you continue to be such a bitch I’ll put you in contempt!”

“Pappa, deep breaths,” Ariana says. “Here. Have some water.”

“Takk,” I say, and I down the entire bottle in about 2 seconds. “Beklager, aktor.”

“I’m not an actor, I’m a professional!” Mr Tess says defensively.

“Aktor means prosecutor, du forbanna amerikaner,” I say.

“Oh!” Mr Tess laughs quietly despite himself. “Ope, didn’t realize that.”

“Vill the vitness please testify again, this time vithout the octopus?” I ask.

“Sure thing,” Mr Tess says.

Witness testimony

-what I Actually Saw-

Ok I realize I was a bit confused, but can you really blame me?

But just because I thought I saw a real octopus doesn’t matter!

I saw the body lying there on the ground, the floor covered in blood!

The bread knife was still in her chest, even!

“It’s okay, Prosecutor Tess,” Sebastian reassures. “We all make mistakes.”

“Yeah, sorry once again,” Mr Tess says. “But this is the truth, ok? I promise, Prosecutor’s honor!”

“Obyection!” I yell, and the witness kicks the desk again.

“Ow!”

“What’s the objection, defense?” The judge asks.

“This vitnesses testimony is unreliable!” I say. “He couldn’t tell the creature he vas so scared of vas a cake, how am I supposed to trust this testimony?”

“Shut up!” Debeste yells, pointing his baton at me. “To err is to human. One of the other prosecutors taught me that one! To make mistakes, in essence, is to be human. Will you strip the witness of that very basic right?”

“Objection overruled,” The judge says. “The prosecution is right. Besides, we’ve let witnesses who’ve made bigger mistakes than that testify.”

(And this is why you all need my skill as a lawyer. Because you trust everyone no matter what.)

“Hmph.” I cross my arms. “Fine. Let’s cross-examine then.”

Cross-Examination

-what I Actually saw-

>I saw the body lying there on the ground, the floor covered in blood!

“So you say the victim vas covered in blood?” I ask, and Mr Tess nods.

“Yeah, it was horrifying.”

“I’d like to ask more about vere the blood vas,” I say. “Vas there blood…”

>splattered over the victim’s chest

“Vas there blood splattered on the victim’s chest?” I ask.

“I-I don’t go staring at random women’s chests!” Mr Tess sputtered, offended by my unintended implication. “I- I don’t know!”

“How dare you, defense!” Debeste yells, pointing the baton at me. “Prosecutor Tess is a good, faithful husband!”

“That’s not vat I vas saying!” I yell. “I’ve no doubt this man practices basic decency, but this is a murder ve are talking about. I’m not accusing you of ogling a dead voman.”

“Uh… I think there was blood on her chest,” Mr Tess says. “Why?”

(That would explain a certain piece of evidence we found.)

“The defense has a piece of evidence that ve vould like the court to take into consideration!” I say.

“What is it, defense?” The judge asks.

>present Stray Bullet

“What’s that?” Gremmy asks.

“Ve found a bullet at the scene,” I say. “If the victim vas stabbed, as is believed by the prosecution, then vy vas there blood splattered on the victim's chest?”

“I- well, Um… because…” Debeste is sweating bullets trying to figure things out in his no doubt tiny brain. 

“The defense vould like to present an alternative theory on vat happened,” I say. “About the true murder veapon!”

“What is your theory, defense?” The judge asks. “Keep in mind that the court has no time for foolish, half-baked theories. You aren’t Mr Wright.”

(No need to remind me how single I am, your honor…)

“The defense vould like to propose that the true veapon vas…”

>a gun

I slam my arm on the desk. “The defense believes that the murder vas actually done vith a gun!”

The gallery erupts into chaos.

“It wasn’t a knife?”

“Hey Andersen is actually doing his job for once huh.”

“I do hope the detective doesn’t dive into darkness due to her disorder…”

“Now’s not the time for alliteration, Atmey, Gremmy will be fine.”

“How old even is the prosecution?”

“Hey has anyone seen my pen?”

“Order!” The judge says, rapping the gavel. “I will have order!”

“I presume you have evidence to sustain your little theory?” Debeste asks, smirking.

“I have a bullet that vas found at the scene,” I say. “Vat more do you need?”

“You didn’t show it to me when you found it!” Gremmy yells. “What the fuck, man?”

“I didn’t vant to cause you unnecessary discomfort,” I say.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Gremmy yells. “I’m not a goddamn child!”

“Vell legally-”

“Stop treating me like I’m some helpless little girl who would go into a fucking PTSD attack at the slightest mention of the word gun!” Gremmy yells. “People like you are why people like me aren’t taken seriously. I can’t hold a gun. I can’t look at them for an extended period of time. I don’t like working on cases that have guns as murder weapons because I have PTSD. But a bullet? If I couldn’t deal with seeing a bullet I wouldn’t be in this job. There’s a world of difference between seeing something that came out of a gun and having one waved in my face. And if I did break down then? If we found out the murder weapon was a gun at the beginning? I’d be transferred to another case and I’d be fine. If anything, keeping this secret means that I might be forced to be the detective on a case where I’ll collapse in the middle of court again. First Piano Boy, now Mr Norway. I’m beginning to think Sebby is the only one who gives a shit about my disorder.”

“Detective, Pappa was just looking out for you-” Ariana starts and Gremmy just sighs.

“Impact matters just as much as intent, Ari,” she says. “But enough about being insensitive to my trauma. Defense, you need more than just a stray bullet to back up your claim. Do you have evidence that the bullet you hold was shot in the bakery?”

“I… vell…” I think. (We didn’t find the gun in the bakery… but I'm sure this bullet shot through the victim…)

(Wait… why is Prosecutor Debeste grinning?)

“Perhaps you’re looking for… this evidence?” Debeste says, presenting a gun.

“AGH!” Gremmy says, hiding under the desk. “Now see? That scares me. Not a stupid little bullet.”

“Vere did you find that?” I ask, and Debeste just smirks.

“It was at the crime scene,” he says. “In a glass dome. I think someone was trying to disguise it as a cake.”

“Can I see that?” Ariana asks, and Debeste nods.

>examine trigger on gun

“It’s broken off,” Ariana says. “Now… don’t we have a piece of evidence that would explain this?”

>present Gun Cake

“Actually, Aktor,” I say, smirking, “this isn’t the evidence ve needed.”

“Wh-what?” Debeste accidentally hits himself in the face with his baton again. “What do you mean?? I always have Debeste evidence!”

“There vas a gun that looked exactly like this one at the crime scene, yes,” I say, “but that one vas a cake!”

“Wh- WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?” Debeste hits himself with the baton again, and he starts to cry. “Are… are you saying this one is… that I got…”

“The trigger on this gun is broken off,” Ariana says. “It just so happens that was the same for the cake at the shop. Furthermore…” Ariana grabs a section of the “gun” and pulls it away, revealing the cake inside. 

“Your “evidence” ended up being nothing more than another foolish idea brought on by your inability to remember that Surfside Bakery makes hyper-realistic cakes!” I yell.

“N-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Debeste seems to shrink at this, and I can’t help but feel a little bit sorry for him.

“Wait so… that means what exactly?” Gremmy asks, and Debeste’s ears seem to perk up. “Like… Seb made a dumb mistake, sure. But it’s not like it was submitted to the court record yet. I mean, after what happened 9 years ago was revealed, the bar association looks more into the context surrounding the presenting of fake evidence. You’ll be fine, Seb.”

“Oh thank God,” Debeste said. “And… now that I think about it…” he smirks. “If we don’t have a gun, then we’re back where we started. Ms Sponge was stabbed to death.”

“But- but-” I start, but Debeste interrupts.

“No buts, defense,” he says. “I’d like to call the next witness. The wife of the previous witness, Dr Charity Layne!”

Silence.

“I… I said Dr Charity Layne!” Debeste says. Nobody comes to the stand. “Where… where is the witness?”

“Bailiff!” The judge says, “track down Dr Layne!”

The court erupts into chaos.

Suddenly, my phone rings. It’s the beginning of the Norwegian national anthem.

“Hej,” I say, answering the call.

“Tell them to suspend proceedings for the day,” a voice says. I don’t recognize it, but it sounds oddly British. “I’m in the middle of something I can’t be there.”

“Who… vat?” I ask, and the voice sighs.

“Just tell the judge you need time to investigate and that you know where to find me. You don’t need to find me by the way, I can find you.”

“Who are you?” I ask. “How did you get my number?”

“Your website,” The voice says. “Come on, you haven’t got all day.”

Confused, I hang up the phone.

“I have an idea vere the vitness is,” I say. “But I’d say there are some other things that need investigating too while we’re at it…”

“Hmm… perhaps that would be for the best,” The judge says. “Any objections from the prosecution?”

“No, your honor!” Debeste says.

“Then court will end for today, to give both parties time to investigate! To reconvene tomorrow!” The judge slams on his gavel, and we are dismissed.

Chapter Text

October 24th

2:15pm

Andersen Law Offices

There’s a knock on the door. I open it. Into the office steps none other than the missing witness, Dr Layne.

“Vat did you go pulling that for?” I ask.

“Pulling what, lawyer?” She asks, looking smugly inquisitive.

“You ran avay from the courthouse and called me to postpone the verdict,” I say.

Dr Layne holds her hands up as if to say “Guilty as charged.”

“Vy?”

“You may not remember me, but I remember you,” she says. “And I don’t want to get on your bad side.”

“Vat do you mean?” I ask. “Ven have ve met?”

“I guess we haven’t met, per se,” Dr Layne says. “But let’s just say my parents knew your dad.”

“Vat?” I ask, confused. “My dad is dead.”

“So’s mine,” the Dr says. “I’m just saying we’ve both got ties to the Mad Happy Society. Me through my mom and sister, and you through your father.”

“My father vasn’t in a cult,” I say, confused. “...Vait do you think Detective Sing vas my father?”

“Was… was he not?” Dr Layne asks, confused. “I thought that since you were a refugee… was it not because he was a double agent?”

“Vat?” I ask, still confused. Then a memory comes into my brain.

I’m 15. My parents are sending me on a flight out of the country for some reason which I’ve long since forgotten. My sister is right by me, until I board the plane. I have a photo of a man in my pocket, the man I was told to meet when I landed.

I’m under the impression I’m going to Germany. My parents had promised to send me there when I turned 16 for a year so I could study law.

But when I exit the plane, I'm not in Germany. I can’t read anything or understand anything anyone says.

The man in the photograph approaches me, and asks in Norwegian

“Are you Archibald Andersen?”

I’m terrified, but I tell the man who I am and that I’m scared. My parents told me a secret phrase to tell the man in the photo when I met him,and I do just that. He responds the way I was told he would, so I feel a bit more like I can trust him.

“Don’t worry,” he says in Norwegian. “My name is Nota Sing. Your parents told me about the situation. I’m sorry you had to leave so suddenly. This is all very confusing for you isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I mumble through confused, angry tears. “Where… where am I? Where’s my sister?”

“She’s safe,” Sing says. “You’re going to be safe too, don’t worry. I’ll make sure nobody can harm you.”

“Where am I?” I ask again.

“Welcome to America.”

“Those are the eyes of someone who just remembered something seriously concerning,” Dr Layne says, and I’m snapped back to reality. “Yeah the poison’ll do that you.”

“The poison didn’t affect my memory-” I start, but she interrupts me.

“You and my brother-in-law were poisoned with the same poison,” she says. “That poison is not only deadly, but even when it doesn't kill you it hurts you in other ways. For you, it gave you your fainting disorder. For Godot, it made him blind and gave him chronic pain. But for both of you… it hid very important memories away.”

“How do you know so much about me?” I ask, horrified.

“It’s what I do,” Dr Layne says. “Don’t worry about it.”

(“Don’t worry about it” seems to be her catchphrase…)

“Vait,” I say, her earlier words finally registering in my mind. “Prosecutor Godot is your brother-in-law?”

“He and Kurt are so close they’re practically siblings,” Dr Layne says. “But that’s besides the point. What I’m trying to say is: your mind is hiding things from you. Expect to remember things you didn’t even know you’ve forgotten. Now, I’m no psychologist, but I have been know to perform a mean lobotomy-”

“Vat the fuck, Dr Layne?” I ask, taking several steps away from her.

“I’m joking, I’m joking!” The woman says, laughing. “Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood. You’re quite handsome, you know.”

“You’re married,” I point out.

“Window shopping,” Dr Layne says, smiling. “So, anything you want to ask me before you get back to your investigation?”

>Today’s trial

“How much of the trial did you see?” I ask.

“Most of it,” Dr Layne says. “I left as soon as you mentioned the possibility of the murder weapon being a gun.”

“Because you vanted to buy me time, right?” I ask, and she nods.

“You’re really pinning a lot of hope on this idea a gun was used,” Dr Layne says. “Do you really believe that’s what killed Mrs Sponge?”

“Ms Sponge,” I correct, “And yes.”

“Oh, did the prosecution not bring that up inn court?” Dr Layne asks, confused.

“Bring vat up?”

>”Mrs Sponge”

“The victim was married,” Dr Layne says. “To… someone other than the defendant.”

“How the helvete do you know that?” I ask, confused.

“Gremmy was talking to me about it yesterday,” Dr Layne explains. “The defense isn’t the only party that questions the defendant, you know.”

“Vy is the detective leaking information about the case to outsiders?” I ask. “And people think I’m the corrupt one here?”

“I mean I’m not an outsider,” Dr Layne says, crossing her arms. “I’m a key witness. And I’m the detective’s friend. Maybe she’d tell you more things if you made an attempt to, I dunno, not be a dick?”

“I’m not a “dick”, I yust care about the case,” I respond, crossing my arms. “Yust because I’m not an extrovert doesn’t mean I’m a dick.”

“You can be an introvert and not a dick,” Dr Layne says. “My boss’s boyfriend, for example-”

“I don’t particularly care,” I say.

“And that’s why you’re single,” Dr Layne says.

“How dare you!” I yell. “You know nothing about me!”

“I think I’ve already demonstrated how that’s incorrect,” Dr Layne says. “Well, I think I’m done here, I’ll be going.”

“Vait,” I say, grabbing her arm before she can leave. 

“No I won’t sleep with you,” Dr Layne says, giggling. “Not just because I’m married, but also because you really aren’t my type.”

“No that’s not vat I vas going to ask!” I hurriedly say. (You aren’t my type either, believe me.) “I vanted to ask if you could possibly vatch datteren min for a vile.”

“You’re asking a random woman you met yesterday to babysit?” Dr Layne laughs. “Why? Where are you going?”

“I have something important to do,” I say. “Ariana is currently taking a nap on the couch, could you vatch her for a few hours?”

“How much are you gonna pay me?” Dr Layne says, raising an eyebrow.

“I von’t tell the prosecution that you aren’t licensed anymore,” I say, and Dr Layne smirks.

“You certainly know how to play the game, don’tcha? Fine. Just don’t be surprised if your daughter learns a few British phrases from me.”

“You overestimate how much I care about the origin of the words datteren min says,” I say.

“Good luck on your secret mission,” Dr Layne says. “I’ll be here.”

“Takk, doktor,” I say. And I leave.

5:15pm

Andersen Law Offices

“You’re back!” Dr Layne says with a smile as I enter the office. “Ariana was just talking to me about spirit channeling.”

“Vat on earth?” I ask, confused. I turn to Ariana. “Vat have you been telling this kvinne?”

“Hej Pappa!” Ariana says, smiling. “I was just talking to Charity about this thing I learned about last week!”

“I’ll leave you two to talk about things,” Dr Layne says, “But I really should go. You’re done with your secret mission anyvay- I mean anyway.”

“Don’t mock me,” I snarl.

“Wasn’t mocking you,” the Dr says, putting her hands up defensively. “Sometimes I just pick up vocal quirks from others.”

(I’m never going to understand this woman.)

“Well, I’m off,” Dr Layne says. “See ya in court!”

“See ya see ya, wouldn’t wanna be ya!” Ariana says, and Dr Layne smiles.

Once she leaves, I turn to Ariana.

“Vat vas that?” I ask.

“Oh that was a phrase Charity told me,” Ariana says. “It’s how she always said goodbye to her grandparents apparently.”

“No, not that,” I say. 

“Oh,” Ariana says. “Well, I have some questions for you too. We can ask each other!”

>What I was doing

“Where were you?” Ariana asks. “I took a nap then when I woke up Charity was here talking about you going on some secret mission.”

“I vas at the crime scene,” I say. “And I vent to confront the defendant about something.”

“And I couldn’t go with you because?” Ariana asks.

“I didn’t vant to vake you,” I say. (And I don’t think you’d particularly like what I did…)

“Aww, thanks pappa,” Ariana says, hugging me. I smile.

(This is all the proof I need that God is real. He blessed me with Ari.)

>Spirit Channeling

“Vat vere you even talking about?” I ask. “Spirit Channeling?”

“Oh it’s this really cool thing I learned about recently,” Ariana says. “Apparently some women from this one country that I don’t know how to pronounce can like… talk to dead people. And sometimes they can even get possessed! It’s so cool. I wish I could do that.”

“That vould be terrifying,” I say. “I hope you can’t.”

“My mom could,” Ariana says, and I freeze.

“…vat?”

>Your mother

“Vat do you mean your mor could channel spirits?” I ask. “I thought you vere an orphan?”

“I was!” Ariana says, smiling. “My mom died about seven years ago, but when she was alive she worked at a temple.”

“Temple?”

“I… I don’t like talking about her that much,” Ariana says. “That’s why I’ve never told you about her. When she died I ran away cause I couldn’t handle living there anymore. Then I found the orphanage. Then I ran away from there. And then I found you.”

(And the rest is history.)

“…I’m glad you told me all of this,” I say, my brain working overtime to figure out what this means. “I didn’t know you knew your mother.”

“I’ve been secretly learning about her for a while now,” Ariana admits. “Ever since our last case, actually. And I learned about spirit channeling so now I wanna see if I can do it!”

“Hmm.” (If she could channel spirits of the dead, that would certainly help many cases. But… I’m worried about what that might do to her. She’s my daughter, I don’t want to lose her because some spirit possessed her and made her do something horrible…)

“Can we go home now?” Ariana asks, and I snap back to reality. “I’m hungry.”

“Alright,” I say. “I’ve made all the necessary preparations for tomorrow’s trial.”

“Alright!” Ariana says. “Let’s go!”

Chapter Text

October 25th

9:30am

Courtroom #3

“We reconvene the trial of Ms Lee Baker,” the judge says. “Are the defense and prosecution ready?”

“The defense is ready, your honor,” I say.

“The prosecution is also ready!” Debeste says, pointing his baton at the witness stand. “Gremmy did quite a bit more detective work after the trial ended yesterday, and I’d like her to report her findings.”

“The defense has no obyections,” I say. “Call the detective to the stand.”

“I’m already here,” Gremmy says, standing at the stand. “I’m prepared to share what we’ve uncovered.”

Witness Testimony

-Further investigation-

Yesterday we looked into the possibility of there being an alternative murder weapon.

We found a bunch of the defendant’s fingerprints everywhere as well as the victim’s.

I had Seb examine the scene for me because I couldn’t handle it.

But I’m not weak! I’m just traumatized!

“Vat about a gun, detective?” I ask, and Gremmy looked to the prosecutor. “Vas one found?”

“I… I don’t want to…” She says. “Please, don’t make me…”

“Yust tell the court,” I demand. “Vas a gun found or not?”

“W-well,” Gremmy says, shaking on the stand. “We… we didn’t exactly…. But there is…”

“Yes or no?” I yell, slamming my arm on my desk. “Give us the answer!”

“CASSA STOP!” Gremmy yells, slamming her hands on the witness bench. Her eyes seem to go empty as if she’s retreated her whole existence into her mind. She’s shaking violently, and her glasses fall to the ground. “Please, don’t make me… I can’t…. Don’t make me…” She falls to the floor in a ball, and Debeste runs to her aid.

“What is wrong with you, man?” He yells, covering the detective’s ears. “Don’t force her to present evidence, she’s the detective!”

“I… I’m sorry,” I say, horrified at my own actions. “I thought she vas yust being difficult-”

“It’s okay, Gremmy,” Debeste says, holding the detective close. “You’re safe. I’m right here.”

“I wish I could go hug her,” Ariana says. I can tell in the tone of her voice she’s lost a bit of respect for me. “Pappa, you’re going to have to apologize to her.”

“I’m sorry,” I say again, but Debeste just glares at me. 

“Judge, can we have a five minute recess so the detective can calm down?” He asks.

“We just started!” The judge says.

“I don’t care!” Debeste yells, covering Gremmy’s ears. “Give us the goddamn recess!” Debeste is crying now. (What a wuss.)

“P-prosecutor Debeste!” The judge says, eyes going wide. “A-alright! Court is dismissed for a five minute recess!”

9:45

Prosecution’s Lobby #1

“Beklager, Detective,” I say, feeling a knot of guilt in my stomach. “Dr Lynn vas right, I’m a “dick”.”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Gremmy says. “Leave.”

“I’m so sorry for my dad’s behavior,” Ariana says, running to hug Gremmy. “He didn’t mean it I swear!”

“I’m not gonna go back into the courtroom,” Gremmy says. “I know the evidence Sebby is gonna present. I cannot handle this. I’m gonna stay here and take a nap or something.”

“Your uncle was in the gallery,” Debeste says, and Gremmy’s eyes light up. “I can send him over here to keep you company. You could also leave if you wanted to-”

“I wanna be here to congratulate you when you win,” Gremmy says. “Which uncle?”

“The scary one,” Debeste says. Gremmy raises her visible eyebrow, and Debeste elaborates “The one with the really loud laugh.”

“Uncle Lukey!” Gremmy smiles. “I… I think I feel a bit better. Still not going back into the courtroom.”

“Understandable,” Debeste says.

“Defense! Prosecution!” The bailiff yells. “Time to return to the courtroom!”

“Alright,” Debeste says. “Ready, defense?”

“Alvays,” I say.

9:50am

Courtroom #3

“How is the detective?” The judge asks, and Debeste shakes his head.

“She won’t be returning to the stand,” He says. “Because… I have a very crucial piece of evidence that she isn’t allowed to be around.”

“Vat is this evidence?” I ask, even though I know what it is.

“Yesterday,” Debeste starts, “I was just returning to my office when I found this on my desk.”

He presents a gun. It looks almost identical to the cake that was presented yesterday, except the trigger is intact.

“There was a note with it,” Debeste says. “Along with a photo of where it was found at the scene.”

Gun added to the Court Record

“Wait,” Ariana says, looking at the note. “Isn’t that…” She turns to me, and my heart sinks. “Pappa… that’s your handwriting.”

“What?” Debeste asks, accidentally hitting himself with his baton. “Ow!”

“Defense!” The judge says, looking at me with surprise. “Why would you give evidence to the prosecution?”

“There’s no evidence I did,” I say, my face blank. “Besides, it vouldn’t matter vere it came from as long as it’s yenuine and vas not obtained illegally, correct?”

“It’s quite unorthodox,” The judge says, “But I suppose it is viable evidence.”

“The defendant’s fingerprints were found on the gun too!” Debeste says. “The prosecution belives that this is the real murder weapon!”

“I have no obyections,” I say, and Ariana looks at me with a strange expression in her eyes. Almost disappointment, but also a twinge of pride.

(She knows why I had to do things this way. I’m sure.)

“And we have a witness that’s gonna testify!” Debeste says. “Dr Charity Layne! Yesterday she showed up at my office at about 6pm and explained that she simply wasn’t at court yesterday because of personal reasons.”

(She was here in the gallery, but she left to buy me time, actually.)

“Then let’s hear her testimony!” The judge says.

Dr Layne takes the stand, smiling.

“Name and occupation for the record?” Debeste asks, and Dr Layne giggles.

“Charity Layne-Tess, assistant to Professor Desmond Sycamore at Gressenheller University,” She says. 

“I thought you were a doctor?” Debeste says, fidgeting with his baton. “Are… are you not?”

“Haven’t renewed my liscence in a while, no,” She says. “It’s quite flattering that you all insisted on calling me “Doctor” though.”

“So… uhh… Mrs Layne,” Debeste says, trying to recuperate his composure, “What… what did you see?”

“I’ll tell ya what I saw,” Mrs Layne says. “But it’s up to you to determine if I’m even a credible witness.”

“Vat do you mean?” I ask.

“I’ve been known to lie to the police,” Mrs Layne says, smiling. “So that’s why.”

“You are under oath!” The judge says. “You could get charged with perjury!”

“I suppose you’re right,” Charity says. “Fine. I’ll tell the truth.”

Witness Testimony

-The “Truth”-

I wanted to get my husband a cake to celebrate the one year anniversary of us meeting, so I ordered one from Surfside bakery.

It was the gun cake, actually.

I went with my hubby to go pick it up from Mrs Sponge, but that’s when I saw it.

There was a woman running out of the bakery holding a gun in her hand, and a body dead on the floor.

“Mrs Sponge?” The judge asks, confused. “I thought the victim was Ms Sponge.”

“She was married,” Debeste says. “In fact, not only was she married, but she was also having an affair with the defendant!”

(Why does a dead woman have more lovers than me?)

“That’s not true!” Baker yells. “We weren’t!”

“You told us you and the victim vere lovers,” I say, and she glares at me.

“Who’s side are you on, lawyer?”

“The defense vould like to cross-examine the vitness now,” I say.

Cross-Examination

-The “Truth”-

>There was a woman running out of the bakery holding a gun in her hand, and a body dead on the floor.

“And the voman vas… the defendant?” I ask, and Mrs Layne nods.

“Yup,” She says. “I saw her.”

“Liar!” Baker yells.

“Please be quiet, Ms Baker,” I say.

“Sorry,” Baker grumbles.

“And there you have it!” Debeste says. “A witness saw the defendant running from the scene, we’ve got empirical evidence!”

“That’s not vat empirical means, Prosecutor Debeste,” I say. “You mean indisputable evidence.”

“Yeah!” Debeste says. “That one! Ready to admit defeat now, defense? Defeat at the hands of Debeste prosecutor?”

“No, not yet,” I say. “I belive there’s still more…” I feel faint. “More…”

Before I could even register I was falling, I fell to the ground.

---

I catch my dad before he hits his head on the ground. The prosecutor looks terrified, fidgeting with his weird baton thing and looking like he’s about to cry. 

“Did he just…” Sebastian says, worried.

“He’s not dead, don’t worry,” I say. “He just fainted. Give him a minute, he’ll open his eyes soon.”

“What do I do?” Sebastian asks, and I just sigh.

“Don’t worry,” I say, “He’ll be fine. You didn’t do anything wrong. Just… calm down.”

“The aktor is annoying,” Dad mumbles, and I squat down to see him.

“Hey pappa,” I say, and he smiles. “We really must stop meeting like this.”

“Nothing I can do to stop this from happening,” Dad says. “Yust… set the timer please. I yust vant to go home.”

“This’ll be done with soon, pappa,” I say. I turn back to Sebastian. “The defense isn’t ready for a verdict yet! We beleive there’s still more about this to uncover!”

“And what would that be, exactly?” The judge asks.

“Vy did the defendant kill the victim again?” Dad asks, and suddenly I have an idea.

“The defense wants to cross-examine the defendant!” I say. 

“Vy?” Dad asks, and I smile.

“It’ll buy some time,” I say. “Because I think I know just what to do to get the truth out of the defendant… but you need to help with it.”

“Flink,” Dad says, and I smile.

I do a pretty good job stalling for a while, and eventually dad stands up again.

“So, vat vas it you vere going to do?” he asks, and I just smile.

I cross my fingers, hold my hands against each other on my chest, close my eyes, and I focus all my energy on a specific person.

(He can help my dad here. He will make sure we get the whole truth…)

---

I scream.

Right next to me-

Where Ariana once was-

Now stands my long deceased mentor, Nota Sing.

“Hello, Mr Andersen,” He says, chuckling and doing his signature grin upon seeing my confused and scared face.

“Y-you’re dead!” I say, pointing rather uselessly at him. “V-vat is going on?”

“Spirit channeling,” Nota says. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been channeled. I’d love to catch up, but you’ve got a promise to keep so we can’t dillydally.”

“There’s so much I vant to ask you,” I say, but Nota holds a hand up. 

“Later,” He says. “Right now, we need to get the defendant to confess to everything. I trust you paid attention to the trial thus far?”

“Of course,” I say. “All the defendant has said in this cross-examination is that she doesn’t vant to say anything.”

“Then it’s time to get the prosecution to help,” Nota says. 

“But how?” I ask, and Nota shrugs.

“I’m not omniscient,” He says. “I’m dead.”

“Hmmm.”

(The prosecutor… how do I get him to help our client confess? What should I have him confront her about?)

>The defendant’s Affair

“Prosecution,” I say, and Debeste looks at me, slightly scared. “You claimed the defendant and the victim vere having an affair, correct?” 

“Yes!” Debeste says. “In fact, it seems Mrs Sponge had several affairs with several different women at the same time.”

“WHAT?” Baker yells, pulling at the string of her apron. “That whore! She had several other girlfriends?”

(Once again. Why does a dead woman get more women than I?)

“Did you know the victim vas married, Ms Baker?” I ask, and she starts gnawing on the end of the apron string.

“What if I did?” She says, glaring at me. “That doesn’t change anything!”

“I suppose not,” I say. Baker laughs, and it’s only then that I notice something on her hand. 

“So if you’re done, I’d like that guilty verdict quickly so I can just be done with this,” She says.

“OBYECTION!” I yell, and the whole courtroom goes quiet. “You’ve hidden something from us, Ms baker. Or should I say… Mrs baker?”

“What??” Debeste exclaims, hitting himself with his baton again.

“What are you saying, defense?” The judge asks, and I smirk.

“The defendant is also married!” I slam my arm on the desk. “The real reason she killed Mrs Sponge vasn’t because the victim vas having an affair, but because she vas the affair!”

“WHAAAAAAAAAAAAT?” The judge says, shocked.

“How… how DARE YOU!” Mrs Baker yells. “I’M… I’M NOT…”

“Just admit it so I can go, please,” Nota says. “I forgot how much I hate being in courtrooms.”

“I’m exhausted,” I say. “Please yust make it easy and let me go home.”

“AN…DER…SEN!!!” Baker screams, tearing her apron apart with her teeth. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you!”

“Just admit that you killed Mrs Baker!” Debeste says, pointing his baton at her. 

“AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Mrs Baker screams. “FINE! I DID IT! I KILLED HER BECAUSE SHE WAS GOING TO TELL MY WIFE. I TOLD HER I’D TELL HER WIFE TOO, BUT APPARENTLY HER WIFE HAD AGREED TO THIS WHOLE THING AHEAD OF TIME! I THOUGHT I HAD HER WITH MUTUALLY ASSURED DESTRUCTION, BUT APPARENTLY NOT, SO SHE HAD TO GO! I SHOT HER DEAD. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW???”

“Very,” I say. “The defense concedes.”

“Very well then!” The judge says. “I hereby pronounce the defendant, Lee Baker…

GUILTY!

Court is adjourned!”

12:30 pm

Courtroom Lobby.

“Another case over, finally,” I say. “I vant to go home.”

“Umm… defense?” It’s Debeste. He fidgets nervously with his baton. “What… what’s your name, anyway?”

“It’s Archibald Andersen,” I say. “Did… did you not know it?”

“No,” Debeste says. “Gremmy didn’t tell me. Speaking of Gremmy, where is she-”

POW!

Gremmy appears, seemingly out of nowhere and punches me in the face.

“OW!” I scream, clutching my nose. “Did you- did you yust break my nose?”

“I’m not nearly strong enough for that, calm down,” Gremmy says. “And that’s for making me have a PTSD attack mid trial!”

“You vere talking quite boldly about your resilience yesterday,” I point out.

“Yeah, I said I’m fine seeing BULLETS,” Gremmy yells. “Not GUNS! This is all your fucking fault because you didn’t tell us you suspected a gun was used from the beginning!”

“She’s right, Mr Anderson,” Debeste says.

“It’s Andersen,” I correct. “Besides, there’s no need for violence.”

“No, I think the detective made the right call,” another person says. A tall man dressed in black and white with a feather in his mouth approaches Debeste. “Good job, Prosecutor Debeste. You’ve become quite an amazing prosecutor.”

“Thanks, Prosecutor Blackquill!” Debeste says, smiling. “I mean, I am Debeste one for the job, it’s only natural.”

“And you are?” I ask, and the tall man turns to me. His bangs cover his eyebrows so I can’t quite tell his emotions completely, but his eyes seem to soften when looking at me. (Is he looking down on me? Metaphorically, of course, I’m taller than him. Barely, but I am.)

“My name is Simon Blackquill,” the man says, extending a hand for me to shake. I take it, and his grip on my hand is firm yet loose. “Although you may know me as The Twisted Samurai. It’s an honor to finally meet you, Instigator.”

“All I know about you is that your hands are cold and you think I deserved getting punched in the face,” I say.

Blackquill laughs. I hate his laugh. “Perhaps we’ll face off against each other one day. It’s been a while since I’ve faced off against a defense team that could rival my wit.”

“Hmph.”

“Well, I’ll see you some other time,” Blackquill says to Debeste. “Taka needs me.”

“Tell your Hawk I said hi,” Debeste says happily, and Blackquill leaves.

“Um, Mr Debeste?” Ariana says, and I have a feeling I know what she’s gonna ask.

“What?” Debeste asks, turning to face her.

“Would you… could you date my dad?”

“Ariana…” I sigh.

“What?” She says defensively. “You’re lonely! I’m just looking out for you!”

“Um… I’m not a man,” Debeste says. 

“That’s fine!” Ariana says. “Pappa likes women too-”

“Ari,” I say, more sternly this time. 

“I’m not a woman either,” Debeste says, fidgeting with his baton. “I… uh… well I don’t like men. I mean not… like that, at least.”

“Oh,” Ariana says, disappointed.

“Don’t mind her,” I say. “She thinks I need a partner to be happy in my life.”

“Could you at least be his friend?” Ariana asks, and I sigh again.

“Umm… he scares me,” Debeste admits. “But I bet there’s people who aren’t afraid of him! Don’t feel discouraged!”

“I don’t need a pep talk like I’m a child,” I growl. “Ariana, let’s go home. I’m exhausted.”

“Ok fine,” Ariana says. 

We leave the courthouse, and that’s when Ari asks me another question that makes me think.

“Pappa… who exactly was Detective Sing to you?”

“I don’t vant to talk about it,” I say.

“Please?” Ariana asks. “I channeled him today because I knew he meant something important to you… so who was he?”

“He vas…” I start, but I can’t figure out how to best explain it. “…he saved me. He helped me and saved me ven the vorld vas against me.”

“So he was kinda like you are to me, huh?” Ariana asks, and my heart hurts. “Saving someone young when the whole world hates them.”

“…I suppose that one vay of putting it.”

(Ariana… you have no idea how sweet the thing you just said is.)

(Which reminds me…)

(When I get home, I’ve got a call to make.)

(I need to ask my sister Nor some questions…)

End.