~
July 15,
Goria Law Firm Offices
Miles Edgeworth was a cordial person; polite and dignified in every way. It was how he was raised by his father and by Manfred von Karma, and it wasn’t an aspect of his that was about to change, regardless whether he won or lost. He was more mature than that.
Loss was the very reason he had even had Ema look up the place. But it wasn’t his loss, oh no; it was that of the defense attorney, Fantasma Goria. She had indeed lost the first trial a few days ago to him, and normally he would have thought nothing of it, but what had Edgeworth questioning her actions was that she did not seem upset at all. Rather… she looked partially relieved.
She was a rather strange person, the prosecutor mused. Always smiling, seemingly all knowing, wearing her attorney’s badge like a broach of all things… and then her apparel in general. Wearing what appeared to be an evening gown was not suitable for court (unless you were one of the inane witnesses that happened up every now and then), let alone an attorney. Was she so concerned with not showing her feet…?
The shadow of the Goria Law Firm Offices loomed over him in the summer sun, as he pulled on the handle of the glass door. The door opened; a small bell attached to the top jingled, signaling the owner of her new guest. A silky voice followed from somewhere in the building, a cry of “Coming!” Edgeworth, ever the polite one, stayed by the door until he was allowed inside.
“Why, Mr. Edgeworth! Such a surprise!” exclaimed Fantasma Goria, coming to the door with her ever cunning smile. “What brings you here?”
You say that as though you expected me… “Oh, nothing much,” He lied. “I happened to pass by your office and decided to pay a visit. If this is a bad time, I’ll-“
“Nonsense, Mr. Edgeworth! Don’t be so shy!” the attorney laughed, moving behind Edgeworth and pushing him inside. “I was just about to have tea. Please, join me! I insist.”
Edgeworth was never one to pass a cup of tea (perhaps it was the time well spent abroad), and graciously took her offer. “Thank you, Ms. Goria. Tea would be wonderful.”
Fantasma smiled, though it was admittedly not much different than usual, and led Edgeworth into the main room of her office. The walls were a blood red, the carpeted floor a deep violet, and various trinkets and books were lain on the shelves and cabinets.
The defense attorney waited a moment for Edgeworth to remove his magenta jacket, taking it from his hands and placing it on a rack. “I’m afraid all I have at the moment is black tea. Will that be alright?” she asked.
“Ah, yes, please,” He answered.
“Excellent. Please, feel free to have a look around,” With nothing else but another mysterious smile, Fantasma silently retreated into her office’s kitchen.
Edgeworth again took up her offer, beginning to examine the
objects on shelves surrounding him. Ms. Goria must
have had a hidden eccentric side; all the books were of occult studies and black
magic and fortune telling, and the trinkets were tiny silver crosses, bejeweled
skulls, and what the prosecutor could only guess were unused voodoo dolls. His
grey eyes landed on her college diploma; the date was missing, but it clearly
read that she was graduate of
Edgeworth stopped him self when he took notice of one doll, strangely nailed to the wall opposite of him. The nail the long, much longer than a nail should be for something like that, and even from where he stood, Edgeworth could see something written on the back. Curiously, he unhooked the doll from its resting place to examine.
The text was worn, the ink smudging on the wood. Even so, the words were still legible:
“’ Never Forget KO-14 – 6/2/73’…” he mumbled aloud.
…Now what could that have meant?
Judging from his previous knowledge of case classification, KO-14 was a case of some kind; in actuality, it sounded quite familiar. But why would Ms. Goria have a reminder, if it could even be called that, of some case that happened in the early seventies? And why use this mildly frightening doll as a marker…?
“Ah, I see you noticed it.”
Edgeworth spun around; Fantasma had returned with a tray holding two cups of hot tea and a small plate of cakes, smiling as usual. He cleared his throat, placing the doll back on its nail. “Forgive me. I wasn’t sure what it was, and…” His voice trailed off as he tried to reinstate his pride.
“Oh, no, don’t be sorry! I had a feeling you’d see it,” She answered, placing the tray on the coffee table. “That doll is called a ‘Wara Ningyo’. It’s a Japanese item used for protection.”
“I see…” Edgeworth said, taking his seat in an armchair and receiving his tea from Fantasma. She must not want to talk about the date… “I must say, Ms. Goria, you certainly do have an interesting taste in spiritual matters.”
“I’m surprised you were able to tell most of the objects had that significance, though I suppose I shouldn’t expect less from a prosecutor of your standard,” Fantsama responded, smiling to herself.
“Yes, well… I’m
somewhat involved with an acolyte in
“Really?” Her smile was bright with curiosity. “You should have her come visit me! I’d certainly love to talk with her.”
“Quite,” He mused, taking a sip of his tea. “…Ms. Goria.”
“Yes?”
“Do you… mind if I ask you about the case?”
Fantasma set her cup down on the table. “Well, I suppose I don’t, but what possible questions could you have that were not answered in the trial?”
“Well… if it’s not too much trouble…” Edgeworth started. What was he doing…? “…I’d like to ask you why you took the case in the first place.”
“’Why I took the case’…? I’m afraid I don’t follow.”
She’s lying. I can’t let up here. “Ms. Goria, while I detest idle gossip, I couldn’t help but hear from a detective about you and your cases.”
“Yes. And what did you find?” she asked, a sly smile on her features.
“I heard that your cases always have some personal involvement.”
She shifted, placing her chin in her hand. “Really, Mr. Edgeworth? What ever makes you think that that’s true?”
Edgeworth leaned back in his seat, gesturing to her diploma. “That proves it.”
“I’m sorry, but what are you getting at?”
“Ms. Goria. The case we worked on dealt with an attempted murder
at
Fantasma took another sip of her tea, letting out a contented sigh. “Very good, Mr. Edgeworth. You win.”
“So it’s true, then…”
“Yes. I only take on cases with personal involvement.”
“And when your client is guilty, you let the prosecution win.”
“I wouldn’t put it that way.”
“Then how would you put it?”
“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t put it like that.”
Edgeworth crossed his arms; so much for gossip always being wrong. But where to go from here…? This was so much easier with the Pyscholocks…
“Mr. Edgeworth, I feel that somehow the topic has changed to me. Are you sure the trial was what you really wanted to know about?” Fantasma asked slyly.
“…No. Information on the trial was not what I had intended to learn about.” If he didn’t say it now, Edgeworth was certain Ms. Goria would bring it up.
“As I thought,” The defense attorney chuckled. “So, what else is there to know about me?”
“…Honestly, I’m not sure,” The prosecutor conceded. “However, this does not mean I won’t try to unravel the enigma that is Fantasma Goria.”
“Ohh, very good,” She laughed. “I do so love a challenge.”
He gave a smirk of his own before continuing. “I took the liberty of looking into your first cases. They’ve all been reopened cases from forty years ago.”
“What can I say? I like them old.”
“Yes, well, in any case, I noticed something. Something that I feel must bring up.”
“And what is that?”
“The case name.”
Edgeworth looked into Fantasma’s eyes. She wasn’t panicking. She was as calm and collected as ever, that small smile still on her face. And –was it just him, or was she… happy he was getting closer…?
“…Tell me about the case, Mr. Edgeworth,” She said, a tinge of wistfulness in her voice.
I have a bad feeling about this… “…I didn’t think it was much more than coincidence, but… the KO-14 Incident was a shooting at a college called…”
“…
“…Yes,” He replied. “Though, there was something strange about the shooting. It was aimed at only one person. …A person with the surname ‘Goria’.”
Silence overcame the two. The seriousness of the situation fell on them; Edgeworth, leaning on his hands, and Fantasma, still smiling as she always did. The prosecutor could not believe what he was implying, but the defense attorney made no attempts to stop him. And, personally, it began making a great deal of sense to him; why all her cases had a personal involvement, the spiritual knick-knacks laying over her furniture, and, perhaps, even why she wore that extravagant, long dress, and why she didn’t make any noise as she walked from room to room…
“…Ms. Goria?” he said after a long silence.
“…Yes, Mr. Edgeworth?”
“I… I understand if you refuse, given what we’ve just discussed, but… would you mind showing me your feet?”
She sighed. “Why… whatever for?”
“Well, in the case that you were…” He swallowed. “…what has been implied, it would make sense that you would try to hide your feet, since -and I can’t believe I’m saying this- …you wouldn’t have any feet.”
Fantasma said nothing; her shoulders were shaking, and in a moment she burst out in uncontrollable laughter. She clutched her sides and doubled over, as her face rapidly turned red, tears flying out of her eyes. Edgeworth could only watch. He suddenly had flashbacks of cases past; the defendants crying tears of joy that they were free, witnesses crying tears of relief to have spoken the truth, even some murderers crying tears symbolizing the end, knowing what they did was wrong.
In a matter of minutes, Fantasma had stopped laughing. The tears were still streaming down her face, staining them, but her smile was there; a nostalgic smile of days lost, days she would never regain. Edgeworth could relate, but he didn’t say that. “Ms. Goria…?”
“O-Ohh… You’ll have to excuse me, Mr. Edgeworth,” Fantasma cried. “But I’m just so… happy!”
His glaze softened, something that did not happen often. “Ms. Goria…”
“I-I’m sorry,” She laughed. “It’s just… I suppose I never realized how long I was waiting for this day. Forty years went by much quicker than I thought.”