damned_institute | Day 42, Noon: The Twin Pine Restaurant

Yuffie took the long way around, practically making it a tour of the entire town. She collared--not literally, since the nurses would've thrown fits--a few random citizens along the way, asked as many inconspicuous sounding questions as possible, and then moved on. Wash, rinse, repeat. Sneaking a few covert glimpses into stores and windows confirmed what she'd been talking about with Sam earlier; no dates, no explicitly mentioned locations outside of the town itself… how weird was that? Even the most insular of towns back on Gaia would've coughed up some kind of connection with the outside world.

It was almost like a living ghost town.

Well, maybe she was just thinking too hard. Maybe she was throwing shuriken too hard at the wrong target. Back home, she had a concrete frame of reference. Here, she couldn't take anything for granted; she had no local or international knowledge whatsoever. All she could try to do was get a profile of the immediate area and build it up and out from there. Theories were already budding, popping up like weeds hit by Quadra-Haste, but without facts to back them up, theories were like sand in a desert.

Not that she didn't want to share those theories, sand or not. She did. A lot.

Once she'd developed a viable mental map of the place (as viable as she was gonna get given the time constraints), Yuffie swung back around and jogged back to North Street. From there, she took the alley; a quick right turn; slow to a trot, and there. Her cheeks were tinged pink from the cold winter air, and they stung as she poked her head in through the door.

Okay, so maybe she was a little early after all. That was cool. Very cool. She had some time to set things up, to pretend that she wasn't hideously under prepared for this lunch date. Stepping into the warmth, Yuffie surreptitiously cased the place out as she headed to a table. Homey, in a way that almost reminded her of some of the up-and-coming rural towns. Automatically seeking out one of the more strategic seats--one with a good view of the rest of the restaurant, and one that didn't leave her totally vulnerable to mutant chairs or murderous sandwiches--she made herself comfortable, whipped out a few crumpled pieces of paper and a pen, and began to jot down her findings.

[Closed to Edgeworth.]

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Never met...? Hm, that would explain the lack of recognition of both her name and her father's. Folding her arms across her chest, Franziska gripped the sleeve of the jacket and thought for a moment. Just why had Miles provided a witness she could not use at all? Had he deviated so much from the von Karma teachings that he had forgotten the brevity in which she liked to complete her investigations? Thorough, complete, quick, perfect - those were the tenants of their method, so why...?

"Five foot ten or 177 centimeters, 65 years of age, shoulder length slicked back silvered hair, steel eyes, has often been described as austere or stern, oval face shape, aquiline nose, most often seen with a scowl on his face." If there was one thing Franziska could do, it was describe her own father. Even if she rarely saw him when she grew older, she knew his features and his face. A year without him meant nothing when he was all she had ever seen. Continuing smoothly onward, Franziska huffed under her breath and wagged a finger at Javert. "Phoenix Wright's testimony is not the issue here. Anything you can tell me about the accused is your only concern."

Javert was silent for a long moment after she finished speaking, broken only by a brief nod of acknowledgment as the serving girl appeared with his coffee. There was only one patient who fit the description given by Franziska von Karma, and he fit it exactly. Even if the family resemblance was questionable--though there was certainly the difference in age to factor in--Javert knew instantly, without a doubt, who the man was.

So why had his erstwhile roommate seen fit to provide him with a false name instead? Suddenly Karl Fuchs--or rather Manfred von Karma--sounded considerably less respectable than he had before. The thought of it brought to the fore the uncomfortable recollection of their last conversation before von Karma's disappearance. He himself had noticed von Karma's subtly odd behavior at the mention of Edgeworth's name, and he himself had given the man directions to the activities shed. If the attempt on Edgeworth's life had indeed occurred, Javert realized, he was partly to blame for it.

Damn his old nature! It hadn't been the first time he'd been taken in by the appearance of respectability, but by God it would be the last.

Even someone less quick-thinking than Javert would have seen that it would be imprudent to mention this in detail to someone who was clearly a close relative--either a daughter or granddaughter, he was willing to bet. Instead, he merely nodded in recognition.

"I have spoken to the accused several times. While he seemed an otherwise refined, if severe man, he displayed suspicious behavior when Miles Edgeworth's name was mentioned in casual conversation, and asked me directions to the activities shed, from which a metal bat such as the one you mention could easily be obtained."

The pause told her everything. Not only did Javert know him, but he apparently must not have known him under his real name. But why would Manfred von Karma pose as anyone else? Simply for convenience? Because the nurses called him something else? Because that blasted Phoenix Wright was around? Or was it because his crimes should never have been tied back to the von Karma name?

"Miles Edgeworth betrayed him," Franziska snapped, slamming her hand down onto the table. She did not like where her own questions were leading her. Her father knew the location of the metal bats, and had asked for directions to that very place. It was safe to assume that he went and retrieved one. Which would mean that... Even without evidence, this was turning out to be a bad end for the once-legendary prosecutor. Pulling her hand back, she tried to reign in her anger and continued. "After teaching him everything, Miles Edgeworth went against everything Prosecutor von Karma stood for. He failed in his achievement of perfection, and went so far as to help and even befriend his enemy. To a von Karma, such a thing is unthinkable."

Even if she had done the same thing. But even she had thrown away her whip once, refusing the name she had been born into, once she learned that she was no longer worthy of it. It had been Miles - the ever frustrating Miles - who had brought her back to her senses. For that, she owed him, and had repaid him.

Still, Javert's information could not be ignored. Opening her notebook, she wrote what he had said and then rested the pen against the paper. "What is your relationship with the accused? And when did the conversation you mention take place?"

If there was bad blood between Edgeworth and von Karma, it might certainly have explained away von Karma's reaction to Edgeworth's name. But even so--

"Then you may as well have admitted the existence of a motive, mademoiselle," he mused. "For someone to have failed that achievement--wouldn't you want to see that stain wiped clean? I would." His voice had taken on a darkly ironic tone. He knew the price of perfection well.

Loath as he was to divulge everything to a girl whom he had only just met, there was nothing to be gained from saying anything but the truth. Javert had nothing to hide; the trick would be confirming her words with Edgeworth and confronting von Karma before the older man caught wind of what he knew. "He and I shared the same cell for two days before he seemingly disappeared. The conversation took place on the night he vanished--exactly a week ago, as far as I can tell."

[Busy at work ate me alive. DX I'm willing to backthread if you want to continue]

Admitte--- Dammit! Franziska tried to keep the anger from her face, but she knew it was probably showing through in the way she set her jaw. A motive, availability and knowledge of the weapon, and eyewitness testimony - if only she hadn't talked to this blasted man!

But then, a criminal was a criminal - regardless of blood ties.

"Motive is not everything. If you were to say that, then I could very well be called into question as having motive to eliminate Miles Edgeworth. He not only betrayed the von Karma creed, but he has teamed with my enemy." Wagging her finger curtly, Franziska tried to regain pace, turning the corner of her mouth up into a smug smile. "And yet, do you suspect me of murder? Hardly. We are all prosecutors. There is no reason to stoop to something where the results would hardly matter."

However, now she had more information. Javert had been his roommate, and the conversation was one week ago. According to the days she'd seen posted on the bulletin board that would... correspond perfectly with the crime. It seemed she needed to speak to her father again. And soon.

Penning those notes into her journal, she snapped it shut and looked to Javert again, raising an eyebrow. "Is there any other information you have for me?"

Day 42, Noon: The Twin Pine Restaurant

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