damned_institute | Day 42, Noon: The Twin Pine Restaurant

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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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When given a choice between a restaurant called Twin Pines and something called Tasty Burger, Franziska knew exactly where she was going. Although she needed to speak with Allen Walker, first she needed to organize her thoughts and establish a plan. Her investigation had to be perfect; the perfect evidence, the perfect eyewitnesses, the perfect testimonies. Even if she was chasing after a crime she didn't want to solve, it was her duty as a prosecutor and as a von Karma.

Be it that she doom her own flesh and blood or not.

Taking a seat at an empty table, Franziska snapped her fingers and ordered tea as soon as the waitress appeared. Then, after careful consideration, she tacked on a food order and waved the woman off. She had no time to deal with the staff here any longer than need be.

Removing the note from her journal, Franziska looked it over carefully and then copied out the names. She'd work her way down this list as quickly as possible. Somehow. Perhaps if she just served them a subpoena she could finish this relatively painlessly. Taking a napkin from the holder, Franziska started writing her draft as the waitress brought her tea.

Javert had more or less forgotten to eat during his last few forays into town, caught up by his own interest in exploring a new town and trying to gather information from the unsurprisingly uncommunicative inhabitants. It had, in some not entirely dissimilar way, been a little like being back in Paris, except for the fact that not even the worst of the Parisians he had known had ever been this recalcitrant.

Today, though, he had had the bad luck to be spotted by his nurse just as he passed the Twin Pine, and it had been frankly impossible to evade her and his free lunch after that.

It had also been frankly impossible to avoid being seated at an already occupied table by the same well-meaning nurse, with the now-familiar admonishment that he really ought to make more friends. As if he'd never been seen speaking to any other patients here! Sometimes he was certain it was she who needed to be the one in the cell.

Thankfully, it seemed the girl seated across from him was busy writing and not inclined to conversation. Javert ordered a cup of coffee--he might as well take advantage of what the Institute sorely lacked--and sat back, looking around the rest of the restaurant under his nurse's watchful eye.

Three minutes thirty-seven seconds until the tea steeped properly. Franziska took note of the clock on the wall and then went back to writing. Over the din of the restaurant, she couldn't hear the hands ticking, but she was certain she would feel it. She'd always been good at keeping time - inasmuch as it was possible.

Meanwhile, she had to work on her wording so it wouldn't seem so... demanding? No, it was most certainly a demand, but it was one not issued by the court, meaning she had to be careful to avoid mentioning anything that might get her a mark on her record. The following persons are hereby issued a subpoena ad testificandum and required to report either in writing or in person to Franziska von Karma, Public Prosecutor. That seemed to be alright...

And just as she finished, someone sat across from her and ordered-- Augh. "Do keep that thing away from me, would you? The fragrance alone is enough to corrode the appetite." Speaking of which. Franziska glanced at the clock and then poured her tea. Perfect, as always. Sitting back and hiding the note, her journal and the napkin away in her lap, she eyed the stranger like she would any annoyance and asked, "Well? Name and occupation - out with it."

Javert had to suppress the smirk that threatened to fight its way onto his face. She sounded as if she ought to get along quite well with the young lady with the fish from two days ago. Imperious, more than a touch of arrogance--used to living the fine life and having everyone around her answer to her beck and call. Briefly he wondered how long she'd been here. She ought to be in for a pleasant surprise.

"My apologies, miss," he said, graciously enough for his nurse to approve, but laced with enough irony to fell an elephant. "Philip Hunt, police officer."

Satisfied that he was at last getting to know more people, the infernal woman headed back to her own duties--presumably, it involved making life miserable for everyone else. All graciousness dropped entirely from his voice then.

"Javert," he amended, allowing a little of the smirk to slip in. "Former inspector of police. And you, mademoiselle?"

Philip Hunt, police officer. She was about to take note of what he said, when she noticed the irony dripping from his words. She had no time to waste on fools who cared enough about what their nurses said to--

"Javert. Former inspector of police."

Well, that changed everything. M. Javert was on Miles' list of witnesses and that meant she had to face the facts faster than she would have liked. As a von Karma, however, she could not back down from this unexpected turn of events. At least this was one less person she had to serve with a subpoena; especially since he was a 'former' inspector. Either that meant the man was retired or he had been disgraced. The reliability of his testimony rested on which of those were true.

A smile tugged at her lips to replace the uncertainty she felt and she held a hand out to the man across from her. "Inspector Javert. I am Franziska von Karma, the prosecuting prodigy, and you are lucky. I was just going to search for you, but here you are, without any hassle or fuss. That should make this relatively painless for you."

Prosecuting prodigy. Another lawyer? Javert would have found it difficult to believe, especially considering her age and gender, but very little surprised him in this place anymore.

The fact that she had apparently been looking for him was another matter entirely and somewhat less expected. Mlle. von Karma's patently ridiculous hair told him that she was most definitely not from his own time; he would have remembered the encounter otherwise. That meant she had heard of him here, and he immediately thought of the only other lawyer he spoke to on a regular basis.

"How lucky indeed, Mlle. von Karma," he repeated dryly. "What have I done that could possibly warrant the attention of yet another prosecutor?"

Well, there it was again. The complete lack of recognition when it came to her name. That alone said he was not from her world because, as a police inspector (former or not), he would have at least known Manfred von Karma. Police and prosecutors the world over knew the great von Karma legacy, and the horrible fall it took. Franziska was working hard to rebuild it all, but even she had her limits - as much as she was loathe to admit them.

Pulling her hand back, Franziska picked up her journal and opened it to her notes. She would finish this investigation in a day, two or three at most, then she would return to her main project - crushing Martin Landel beneath her heel. "You have spoken to the Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth, have you not? I am doing a follow-up and require a repetition of what testimony you gave him regarding an alleged attempted murder in these halls. As a former inspector, you will cooperate, won't you?"

Satisfied that his initial assumption had been correct, Javert turned his attention to the young lady's questions. Whatever his earlier misgivings might have been, she certainly sounded like a prosecutor now.

"I have, on multiple occasions." He counted Edgeworth as one of his more reliable allies here; despite the younger man's tendency toward frippery, he had proven himself at least somewhat deserving of Javert's trust. "An acquaintance of yours, I take it."

Still, her next question prompted a widening of the smirk that had been lurking at the corners of his mouth all this time. She was new here, wasn't she? She had to be.

"Mlle. von Karma," he said at last, "you must realize that attempted murders take place in these halls on an exceedingly regular basis. As a former inspector," and there was a certain irony in his voice as he uttered the words, "I suppose I am obliged to cooperate, but I ask that you specify which of the attempts in question you are currently investigating."

"Acquaintance is one way to put it," she replied, trying to clamp down on the frustration rising in her. She could see how Miles would get along with this man. They were both infuriating in some way or another. She didn't want to admit to familial ties to him right now if she could avoid it, but she needed this man - Javert, with his irritating smirks - to give her information. If that meant admitting to her relationship, so be it. "When I visit America on international matters, he and I are coworkers."

But that didn't mean she had to admit it now.

Swallowing her urge to slap that smarmy grin off Javert's face, Franziska gripped her journal a little harder, making the cover squeak in protest. "Do not make a fool's mistake in underestimating me, Inspector Javert, or you'll learn like Miles Edgeworth did how painful it can be." Lord, how she missed her whip. People never gave her that smug look twice after she let them taste her fury with a sharp crack of her wrist. "I require the information you hold in regards to the attempt on Miles Edgeworth's life, an incident involving a metal bat, approximately one week ago. The eyewitness in the case is a Mr. Phoenix Wright."

Von Karma was aggravated now, much to Javert's amusement. But as entertaining as it was to try and get a rise out of her, perhaps the reason she'd been searching for him was actually a matter of some import. Besides, it was perhaps inappropriate to provoke one of Edgeworth's coworkers so.

In any case, her explanation was enough to tone down Javert's smirk significantly. He had thought perhaps the young lady had been interested in the experimental treatment cases--that was, after all, the only subject that seemed to occupy his thoughts these days. But the incident to which she referred was completely alien to him, despite the fact that he knew both men involved.

"I have heard of no attempts on M. Edgeworth's life, save the usual nighttime encounters," he said, his tone of voice at last turning more businesslike. Why had Edgeworth provided his name if he knew nothing about the matter? "I cannot imagine what information I might hold in regards to it, but I will endeavor to answer your questions nonetheless. Is the attacker's identity known at this time?"

What.

What?!

Gods damn you, Miles Edgeworth! Franziska couldn't believe he would give her a name that had nothing to do wit-- Oh...sharp. Sharp of him, really. She hadn't specified important witnesses to the case, just those he would count among them. Damn it all! It had been her own fool mistake in trying to gather as much information as possible that lead to-- to this! Usually she had her staff to do the menial task of weeding out who was and wasn't important for her, but now she had to carry out this annoying job herself. Just where was that blasted barely bearded buffoon when she needed him?

"...I see," was all she said in response, snapping her journal closed. "By 'the usual nighttime encounters' it is safe to assume you mean the 'monsters' that roam these halls? If so, I am not interested in them." Useless information. Something for someone else to take care of. "The alleged assailant is former Prosecutor Manfred von Karma - Miles Edgeworth's mentor. As of yet, there is no evidence that points to him besides Miles Edgeworth's accusation. The halls were dark and it is entirely possible that the fool went and made a fool's mistake."

Edited 2009-07-09 01:46 (UTC)

Again, Javert had to wonder why Edgeworth had apparently led this girl on a wild goose chase in search of information that he didn't possess at all. Had he done it merely to aggravate von Karma (a possibility Javert had to admit was worth considering), or did he expect Javert to actually have anything to offer? Either way, he supposed he would have to bring it up with the man when next they met.

"I have never met a patient by that name here," he said, "and I assure you I never forget a name. However, if you would kindly provide a description of the suspect in question, it is entirely possible that I have seen the man before."

It had been a while since he'd stood in a court of law, and who knew how many aspects of it had changed in the years between his life and von Karma's, but there was one thing he couldn't help but notice. "You say there is no evidence, Mlle. von Karma, but you also mention the presence of an eyewitness, M. Wright. Is his testimony in any way compromised or insufficient?"

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?"

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Day 42, Noon: The Twin Pine Restaurant

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