Part 25: A Happy Ending?: Are... are you serious, Falcon? Youre relying on the invention of a lunatic?
: Ive never been more serious.
: It looks like a children's toy.
: I assure you, this is no toy. It was designed to find and extract metal embedded in bodies. A battlefield bullet finder-and-remover, if you will.
: I'm intrigued. So, youre saying that you just swing that device around... and it finds a bullet in a person?
: Yes. Sort of. I don't know, we haven't had a chance to practice with it, really.
: Madame, these birds are playing you for a fool. There is no way that such a device exists.
: We have seen this device work with our own eyes. Sparrowson shall demonstrate.
: Although, he will need something to demonstrate it on..
: Observe: I place the bullet in my closed fist. It now represents the fired bullet that is currently embedded in the murderers body.
: ... Allegedly.
: Now, Sparrowson will demonstrate what happens when my hand is scanned with the Explorer-Extractor device.
: So, I just do this, and...
: It's humming and buzzing. Is it really detecting that bullet?
: What an intriguing device...
: P-please don't. You remember what happened to that steak, right?
: My, my. What is this feeling? It feels like...
: Don't let it get to your head..
: Okay. I'm convinced. Falcon, Sparrowson, you may perform a cursory scan of each of us with that device of yours.
: You must stop humoring these morons, madame. What good is this doing us?
: Remus, they may be morons, but this test will grant us certainty of the roosters fate. I can afford that time.
: (Hey, Falcon. What will happen if the murderer is someone not present in this room?)
: (It most likely isn't.)
: (I'm stalling.)
: Get a move on, you two.
: Let us end this trial right here and now! You can get the justice you so crave!
: Don't worry, Remus. My patience for this bird brain is wearing thin too. When this asinine scheme of his fails, he will face the consequences. Lackey bird, scan the rooster first. He is the prime suspect, after all.
: I'm not getting any reaction. That means there is probably no bullet lodged in Cocorico. So... he's innocent, for sure!
: No. All it means is that this bird was not shot by the hypothetical bullet. Don't forget, this is all speculation on Falcon's part.
: Madame, I must insist that you end this. It is a fool's errand. We have other matters we must attend to.
: Remus, you let me worry about our time management. Pierro, you go next.
: Alrigh', alrigh, get it over with.
: No surprises there, right guys?
: Let's see. Next, we shall test...
: Madame, I implore you-
: You're being awfully lippy, Remus. Why dont you go next?
: Me? That is really not necessary, madame. I don't want to participate in this ridiculous child's game.
: This is no game. And I'm issuing you an order to cooperate.
: I refuse.
: Pierro. Please restrain Remus.
: With pleasure, maam.
: Sparrowson. Do the test.
: ... Uhh... Falcon? I'm not getting any reaction.
: That... that cant be right. Do it again.
: The utter nerve, to manhandle a man of the cloth like that..
: As I said on the ﬂoor, madame, I was with you and Fontaine for the entire evening. I could not possibly be in two places at once.
: ... It's true. You were sitting in my line-of-sight exactly when the murder was supposed to have taken place.
: As was I.
: Right. Fontaine was sitting with us too, so that rules him out. And I know that I didn't perform the murder, obviously. Which means that every suspect has been accounted for.
: You realize what this means, don't you, Falcon? Your little test failed. Your hypothetical bullet theory turned out to be unsubstantiated speculation. Pure guess work.
: Shall we end the trial, madame?
: Wait! There must be someone we're not accounting for. I just know it... there is someone else who could have been the shooter..
: Frére Remus, how is your brother? The man named Romulus?
: My brother? He was forced to ﬂee the country by our oppressive government.
: You and I know that that isn't true. Your brother is still in France. In fact, I think he's lurking in these very catacombs right now.
: An absurd notion. Your theories are getting more and more outlandish, Falcon. Where is your evidence?
Oh, I know, I know! I can answer this one.
: An Introductory Guide to the Cult of Reason?
: Thank you, Sparrowson. Now, Frére Remus, does this pamphlet look familiar to you?
: No. I've never seen it before in my life.
: Are you sure? Are you sure it doesn't belong to your brother, Romulus?
: No. There are many cultists in Paris. Maybe it belongs to one of them?
: Falcon, I'll take your word that your lackey found this pamphlet in the catacombs. But Remus is right. You have no evidence that the man known as Romulus is the one who dropped it.
: Wouldn't be the first time.
: Actually, madame, I know for a fact that that pamphlet belonged to Romulus, and I can prove it!
: A little while ago, while visiting the Louvre, I saw a man who looked very much like Romulus handing out pamphlets. As you can see, the pamphlet from the Louvre is identical to the pamphlet from the catacombs, except for one important detail.
: N-no way! My brother wouldn't do something so foolish...
: Do you see? Right here, on the cover page? That is Romulus's signature.
: I admire your tenacity, Falcon, but something is blatantly wrong with your evidence. We know that the brother of Frere Remus is named Romulus. But this Louvre pamphlet of yours is signed Silvius.
: Clearly an alias. Romulus is on the run from the police, so he must have changed his identity.
: That's a plausible theory. But its unsubstantiated. How do we know that this pamphlet was signed by Remus's brother?
: This fountain pen-
: H-hey! Where did you get that?!
Trail Turnabout 2
: Wow, Remus. Your mouth is almost as big as Romulus's. Anyway, I believe this is yours. Sparrowson happened to find this pen in your robes just a few days ago.
: You mean he stole it.
: Let's not argue over semantics. What's important - and what you just admitted - is that you and your brother both owned pens just like this one. See, these pens are unique in that they contain green ink. A very unusual choice of ink color.
: A very evil choice too.
: Well, yes, but more importantly...
: Since there are only two pens, there are only two possibilities. Either Frére Remus has been signing off on atheist, cultist propaganda...
: I would never do such a thing!
: ...Or his brother has been using his identical pen to sign cultist propaganda, the same type that was found in these catacombs.
: Impossible! My clumsy oaf of a brother lost his pen a week ago!
: Oh? So then the only explanation is that you lent him your own.
: N-no, you see-
: It doesn't matter how you cut it, friar! One way or another, you and your brother are tied to the cultist pamphlet! Admit it! Confess!
: Falcon! Enough. You've made your point. You are asserting that the friars pen ties him to the cultist pamphlet. I get it.
: This... this is all tenuous, wouldn't you say, madame?
: No question. Falcon has suggested a theory that hinges upon a theory that hinges upon yet another theory. It's not hard proof by any measure. He may very well be wrong. But at least he's logical. His theory is self consistent.
: W-what are you saying, madame?
: Oh, down the catacombs tunnel, through the fork on the left-hand side..
: Fontaine. Pierro. Go see if you can find anyone dawdling where they shouldn't be.
: Yes, madame.
: In a moment, one of two things will happen. Either Pierro and Fontaine will return empty handed, in which case I'll have no choice but to execute Cocorico.
: And then I would have to execute you, Falcon. And you, Sparrowson.
: I didn't sign up for this.
: Or... Pierre and Fontaine will return with a prisoner in tow, in which case..
: We would be free to cut Cocorico down and skedaddle?
: Surely not, madame. Youre not going to let these three just walk free after everything that's happened here. Remember what this rooster did to your father?
: Hold your tongue, friar. If it turns out youve been deceiving me all this time...
: Ma'am Beaumort! Look who we found!
: Uh oh.
: Uh oh.
: Well, well. We really do have a ghost in the catacombs. Introduce yourself, wolf.
: Very well, mademoiselle. My name-
: Right. Madame. Whatever. My name is Silvius-
: Don't you mean Romulus? That alias isnt fooling anyone, ~your honor~.
: Alright, alright. I am Romulus, twin brother of Remus, and loyal servant to the rebel cause. That's the whole truth.
: He's. .. hes telling the truth, madame.
: I have a lot of questions. Both for you, Romulus, and for you, Remus. I don't appreciate being lied to.
: It seems that you have your hands full, so we will just be taking our leave..
: Not so fast, Falcon. Your theory is still unproven. If it turns out that Romulus has no bullet in him, then you would have no evidence that implicates him of the Croc-Monsieur's murder. Cocorico would still be the prime suspect.
: B-bullet? In me? Ha! Ha ha! What are you guys on about?
: Spare me. Fontaine, hold him down.
: Hold me down?
: Sparrowson. Do your test.
: It's buzzing! It's really buzzing around his shoulder!
: I see blood. Theres definitely a bullet wound there.
: That's... that's an old bullet! An old war wound! I got it fighting in Algeria in 36!
: Obviously a desperate lie.
: My brother is being completely honest, madame. He's a veteran! He was shot in battle!
: You know, I could just extract the bullet right here and now. That would remove all doubt.
: Extract that sucker, Sparrowson.
: Wow. Sucked it out like a pip from a grapefruit.
: There is no mistake. This is an iron-tipped Minié ball, just like the one in the Croc-Monsieur's gun.
: Do you realize what this means, madame? It clearly demonstrates that Romulus confronted the Croc-Monsieur before Cocorico arrived.
: You're right. I made a mistake. I haven't forgotten what the rooster did to my father. But this bird clearly had no part in the killing of the Croc-Monsieur. Therefore, I cannot honestly call him an enemy of the Second Republic. Your friend is free to go. Fontaine, cut the rooster down.
: Thank you, madame.
: For what?
: For giving us an opportunity to show you what justice looks like. Before, you asked what the difference is between revenge and justice, and I replied, rationality. Well... I can see how much effort it must have taken to hold back your emotions and let rationality dictate your actions.
: ... Pierro and Fontaine will help carry your friend to the tunnel entrance.
: These toothless, old, dogs? I think I'll manage.
: Of course.
: Cultist is such a strong word. Listen, mademoiselle-
: Don't mademoiselle me. I shall be asking the questions here.
: Tell me, friar. Are you a cultist too?
: Madame, I am just a humble servant of God-
: Ugh. I never realized how poisonous your words are you've been spewing lies since the very start, havent you?
: At least tell me why you two killed the Croc-Monsieur.
: Allow me, brother.
Tchaikovsky - Marche Slave, Op. 31
: We want exactly the same thing as you. We want a world without class. A world without false rulers and gods. A world where only the reason of man reigns. A world of true equality and fairness! That is what you strive for, no? But you cannot achieve such a goal without violence. Your methods are too passive! Too naive! So we set up a situation where you would be forced into action. Make the government look like murderers to the rebels, and make the rebels look like murderers to the government! Then, you would be forced to take up arms!
: ... Another lie.
: But... that was the truth!
: You claimed that you want equality. But you just want a world where you stand above everyone else. A world where carnivores reign.
: Heh... you got me. But can you honestly say that you never wanted power for yourself? You're a carnivore too. Dont deny it.
: ... No. I've never wanted power. All I've ever wanted was a world where no child has to grow up without a father. Did you know that the Croc-Monsieur was something of a family man? He once confided in me that he had five children and a late wife.
: I had no idea.
: Tell me, Romulus. Do you have children?
: ... Me? Pfft. No. Mademoiselle, I-
: B... brother?
: Get out of here.
: Y... you aren't going to kill me?
: I ought to. You are the worst kind of person. A man who'll cling to any ideology to claw his way higher. But I know that you werent the one to pull the trigger on the Croc-Monsieur. Maybe there's a slither of goodness left in you.
: I... I...
: Is this what justice looks like?