Chapter Text
FEBRUARY 9, 2019. KIRYU MANOR, BEVERLY HILLS, LOS ANGELES, CA. 10:25 PM.
I was woken up by a loud, ringing noise. I groggily got up from my bed and walked up to my window. I drew the curtains and opened the window before seeing a few police cars waiting outside the house across mine. Police lines were everywhere, and the people were basically dying to barge in and take a gander at whatever's happened in there. And so, I put on my jacket before heading downstairs. I grabbed my house keys, unlocked my door, and walked out before re-locking the door again. I did the same for the gates of my mansion before walking up to the crime scene. One of the cops noticed me as he looked at me with tired eyes. He did not want to see me, I bet. He sighed before he pointed at the police lines.
"Can't ya read, kid? Now waddle on home, wouldja?"
"I got eyes, wise guy. I can see just fine, considering the generous amount of street lights here."
I crossed my arms as I waited outside in the rain. It's a good thing I brought my quarter with me. I would've bored myself to death had I not put it in my pocket. And so, I tossed it around for a bit, much to the cop's annoyance.
"Couldja not play with that quarter of yours? No one would mind stealing it, y'know. Especially when they're desperate."
He sighed before lifting the police line up.
"Fine, fine. You can come in. Just don't touch anything, got it?"
I nodded my head excitedly before walking my way into the crime scene. There's a lotta evidence in here, marked with numbers. And the first piece of evidence is obviously the body itself. I hear a couple of labbies talking to each other about the victim.
"Maria Cortes... 78 years old. She looked perfectly healthy for a woman in her late 70s... Unless you count that stab wound."
"It's right on her heart, too... God rest her soul."
"The knife's hilt doesn't have fingerprints... the killer might've worn gloves."
"After looking at the blade itself, looks like there's only the victim's blood."
So... the killer had probably used gloves to cover up his fingerprints to avoid being identified. But... wait. On the victim's chair were three knives. They're stuck to it, as if they'd been thrown. Could the killer have thrown that last knife right at her heart? There's also more evidence... the footprints. They came from the second floor and stopped a few feet away from the chair before leading all the way to the front door. This is getting real interesting.
"She died as the knife struck her heart... but the killer had tried and failed to hit her three times before they finally succeeded."
The cop from before crossed his arms and looked at me with surprise.
"Not bad, kid. Those footprints actually came from the suspect's bedroom. As for him, he's with us now."
I couldn't help but be a little shocked after hearing all that.
"Rusty's arrested?"
The cop nodded as he concluded the investigation.
"Alright, kid. We gotta go back to the precinct. Though, if you really wanna look around a little more... knock yourself out. It's all yours."
I smiled a bit before giving him a thumbs up. He nodded back as I walked upstairs. I searched through Rusty's room and noticed a broken window. The tracks came from said window, meaning it was broken into. I saw a small trail of blood leading to the closet. Rusty might've been knocked out as he woke up and saw the killer. He was hidden in the closet. He probably went back to his senses and got out of his room, only to be greeted by his dead grandma... and the authorities. After finding the evidence, I planned to report it to the cop, but he and his team had left. I had no choice but to keep this to myself until Rusty's trial actually starts. I went back home to sleep.
FEBRUARY 10, 2019. DEFENDANT LOBBY, BEVERLY HILLS COURTHOUSE, BEVERLY HILLS, LOS ANGELES, CA. 9:24 AM.
Whew... I feel really nervous right now. It's my first trial as a lawyer, fresh from HLS. Right after high school, and for three years! and I'm basically old enough to drink at this point. Anyway, I'm Blaze Kiryu. I was born in Osaka, though I eventually moved to LA with my family when I was 3. Both my parents are also Japanese, and they're still in Fukuoka right now, solving a case as Interpol agents. A pretty dangerous job, if I say so myself. Luckily, I'm with my mentor right now. His name is Terrence Lang, a Taiwanese man, and an amazing lawyer. He and my dad used to work together in their cases, but since he went to Fukuoka recently, I had to help him run the law firm with him.
"Feeling nervous, Blaze?" Mr. Lang asks. I respond by simply rubbing the back of my head, blushing.
"Um... k... kinda..." I'm literally beet red right now. Oh God...
Mr. Lang chuckles a bit before saying, "It's fine, kid. Just take deep breaths. Slowly and gently now. Easy does it."
I do exactly that. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Rinse and repeat.
Mr. Lang seems impressed.
"Now," he says, "let's review your evidence." I gulp a bit before nodding. Mr. Lang starts asking me questions about the evidence. Just answer those questions calmly, Blaze... Stay calm... Inhale... and exhale... Mr. Lang begins his little pop quiz.
Question 1: Who's the suspect in this case?
Answer: Rusty Cortes.
Question 2: How did the victim, Mrs. Maria Cortes, die?
Answer: A knife wound to the heart.
Question 3: Where did the footprints come from and lead to?
Answer: From the window in Rusty's room to the front door.
Mr. Lang seems quite impressed at my answers. "Well done," he says, before Rusty interrupts. "So, uh, when does my trial start, again?"
I reply, "10 AM, on the dot." Rusty nods, saying, "Gracias."
I smirk a little at his words. Suddenly, the bailiff barges in and tells us to get ready. "Well fuck," I mutter under my breath. I'm basically sweating bullets right now. Oh, sweet Jesus.
FEBRUARY 10, COURTROOM, BEVERLY HILLS COURTHOUSE, BEVERLY HILLS, LOS ANGELES, CA. 10:00 AM.
"All rise! This court with the Honorable Judge Helen Rogers presiding, is now in session."
The judge slams her gavel before saying, "The court is now in session for the trial of Mr. Rusty Cortes. Are both parties ready?" Her Honor glares at both me and Mr. Lang before moving her eyes to the prosecution.
"The defense is ready, Your Honor," I speak loud and clear using the microphone. The judge nods before basically glaring at the prosecution. The prosecutor looks pretty timid and shy. She wears round glasses and is too busy sorting her papers.
"U-Um... one moment, please..." She continues rummaging through her documents, much to Judge Rogers' dismay. "What are you looking for exactly, Ms. Peterson? You look like you're one step closer to losing, you know."
Abby Peterson, huh... she looks like a rookie... kinda like me. She nervously searches through her papers before finally finding it. "Yes...! M-My opening statement!"
She begins reading from that piece of paper. "U-Um... t-the prosecution accuses the defendant... M-Mr. Rusty Cortes of first degree murder. H-He stabbed the victim with a knife, and h-her heart was punctured," Abby says nervously. And so, it's my turn to give an opening statement. "The defense disagrees with the prosecution and believes that someone else had broken into the Cortes residence. We believe that the defendant did not kill the victim. There was most likely a third party involved in this case, and all will be revealed once all the evidence has been submitted to the court." Judge Rogers nods at my opening statement. Looks like she likes me a little more, huh?
"Very well, Ms. Peterson. You may summon your first witness."
"I-I summon... Detective Buck O'Hagan to the stand," Abby says nervously.
Looks like the cop from yesterday came here to testify. He then notices me behind the bench. "You look awfully familiar, don'tcha?" he says while scratching the back of his head. Mr. Lang looks at me before asking, "Were you at the crime scene last night?" I just nod at his question.
"Yeah... that lawyer there tried to snoop around at the crime scene yesterday... He did know what he's doing, I'll give you that," the gumshoe said. Abby's kinda shocked at this. She slams her hand on her desk to raise an objection, only to hurt her hand in the process. "O-Objec- Ow!" Mr. Lang and I can't help but laugh. Detective O'Hagan, the jury, and even the gallery start laughing. Judge Rogers slams her gavel, and only then we all stop laughing.
"Alright," Her Honor says, "let's hear your testimony, Detective." O'Hagan proudly walks up to the witness stand and begins testifying.
"Alright, let's see... here's a little map of the crime scene. The killer's right here, and the victim's sitting on her chair. The killer threw a few knives at her and missed, only to stab her in the heart, killing her," the detective says as he finishes his testimony. I quickly raise an objection, saying, "After carefully looking at the crime scene, I'll confidently say that the killer did not stab the victim in the heart." The gallery's basically shocked, though their chatter is quickly ended with three slams from the judge's gavel. She then asks me, "What makes you confidently say that the killer didn't stab the victim? That knife went through her heart!"
"It's simple, Your Honor. The footprints on the floor tell a different story."
"The footprints, huh...? Yeah, I forgot to mention that, thanks." O'Hagan says. I simply reply by giving him a thumbs up and explain that the footprints stopped a few feet away from the victim's position. "And of course, he just had to throw that fourth knife at Mrs. Cortes' heart." The gallery's chatter grow louder and louder until Her Honor slams her gavel. "Order, order! Very well, Mr. Kiryu. You've made a good point, but this brings up another question. Where did the killer come from?"
I look at the evidence one more time, before answering with, "The second floor. To be exact, the defendant's room. And if you really want to be exact, his window. It was broken from the outside, and the small trail of blood leads to Rusty- no, Mr. Cortes' closet. He was knocked out and put inside said closet." Rusty nods.
The judge nods at my explanation. "Well then, Mr. Kiryu. Now, I'd like to hear the story from the defendant's side. Would that be alright, Ms. Peterson?" Abby reluctantly nods before Rusty takes the stand and testifies.
"Okay, let's see... I was sleeping when someone suddenly broke into my room. I got up and was immediately knocked out. I then woke up in the closet and ran downstairs... and before I knew it, my abuela is dead. Stabbed in the heart. And then the police showed up and cuffed me!" Rusty crosses his arms and pouts.
"Hmm... that does seem to line up with the evidence," I reply to Rusty's testimony. Detective O'Hagan nods at me from the gallery. Suddenly...
"OBJECTION!"
The gallery is shocked to hear that Abby raised an objection just now. She nervously tries to get her mind on track before speaking. "U-Um, Your Honor... I-I... I have another witness, but he'll need 10 minutes to get here, a-and I might need 20 more minutes to prepare him... s-should we call for a recess...?"
Judge Rogers thinks about before nodding her head. "Very well then. The court will reconvene after a 30-minute recess. Adjourned!" she says before slamming her gavel.
-TO BE CONTINUED-