Aviary Attorney Part #29

Part 29: Protest

: Everything is coming together. As we speak, Fontaine is gathering the protesters at the Place de la Concorde. Pierro is making preparations to build and arm a barricade near the Palais-Royal. Just as a precaution, you understand. The only question that remains is, are you ready?

: Absolutely. Bring on the revolution, I say!

: That's the spirit.

Falcon and Beaumort arrive at the Place de la Concorde. The air is thick with the chants, shouts, and cheers of hundreds of protesters. A line of mounted soldiers stand shoulder to shoulder outside the entrance of Tuileries.

: The desire for revolution runs deep in the city.

: Then we can all storm the building and drag that cocky king out his chair.

: There's been a change of plan. We're still going to protest. But we're going to do it peacefully. No firing from behind barricades. No violence. No capturing the king or prime minister.

: Madame? Are you feeling alright?

: Quite alright, thank you.

: But what of your desire for a better France? You cannot achieve that without bloodshed.

: We can certainly try. Falcon convinced me.

: Falcon?

: ... I see. So that's how it is.

: Excuse me, madame.

: I think the friar disapproves of the new strategy.

: He probably thinks I've gone soft... and maybe I have. But I'm not deviating from this path. Even if each and every rebel leaves my side.

: Don't worry, madam. You aren't alone.

Wolves

: Ugh... this stupid bullet wound.

: What's the news, brother? Is everything in place?

: We have a problem. The mademoiselle refuses to use violence. She's turned timid.

: Turned timid? How?

: It appears that the lawyer, Falcon, is something of a lion tamer.

: Jayjay Falcon? That bird is proving to be more trouble than the rooster, I swear...

: Brother, listen. If there is no violence, then there will be no power gap. One leader will just peacefully replace another. We need chaos for our plan to work.

: Guess we'll have to follow through with our contingency strategy. I'll find the victim. You find the suspect.

: Look at those scum. Foul vermin, the lot of them.

: They lust for violence.

: They don't look too violent to me.

: Trust me. This is just how the crowd looked before the July Revolution.

: It only takes one crazed individual, and the entire crowd will explode into a frenzy.

: No time for pleasantries, Inspector. You're needed urgently on the Place de la Concorde.

: Me? Why not ask one of the officers on active guard duty?

: There's no time to explain. Any minute now- Ah! Do you hear that gunshot? It's already begun!

: Inspector, I really don't think you should be trusting this friar. Has a two-faced wolf.

: Frere Remus has provided me with reliable information in the past. I trust his judgment.

: But Inspector-

: This isn’t up for discussion, Sparrowson. I have a duty to uphold.

: Stay put. I'll be back in no time at all

: But... but...

What should I do now? ...

: It was nearby too.

: So the friar was right. Violence really is an inevitability...

: We haven’t reached that stage yet, madame

: I can't afford to take chances. Not now. Pierro. March the crowd to the Palais-Royal and construct the barricade.

: Yes, ma'am.

: Fontaine. Falcon. We’re going to find the source of this disturbance.

: I'm moving as fast as these old legs will- Mon Dieu! A body...

: I think the gunshot came from over here-

: Falcon?! Well, well. I should have known that the Virdian Killer would have had a part in this.

: Inspector, I'm not-

: Madame, thank goodness you're here! I saw the whole thing. This poor, innocent mademoiselle was approaching the police line with her hands in the air. When all of a sudden, this brute of a police inspector yelled, “get back you filthy rebel!” He drew his gun, and shot the bird point-blank through her heart.

: What is this nonsense? What are you prattling on about, friar?

: Thank you for your input, Remus. It hardly surprises me that a member of the police would be the one to cast the first stone.

: I think we're all being a little rash. Let's just take a breath, examine the situation, and-

: You wear an eye-patch. You only have one eye, Inspector.

: How observant.

: Tell me, were you the policeman who killed the rat at Les Halles too?

: Les Halles? What are you talking about?

: Two incidents of a one-eyed policeman gunning down an innocent victim. There is no way that that is a coincidence. What we have here is a filthy, corrupt individual who takes pleasure in oppressing the common citizen. Am I right, Inspector?

: ... I really shouldn't be surprised that a stupid rebel makes stupid assumptions and comes to stupid conclusions. But open your damned eyes, mademoiselle. I’m not the assailant here.

: Don't call me mademoiselle. Or stupid, for that matter. Your guilt is plain to see. Given the circumstances, I ought to judge and execute you right here and now..

: Falcon! Don’t just stand there, gawking. Vouch for me!

: Madame, I know this man. His name is Inspector Volerti. He is ruthlessly law-abiding. So much so, that I can't envision him shooting a man without just cause.

: Oh, shut up, Falcon. I’m done with your idealism. I listened to you. I took your words to heart about avoiding violence. And now a girl is dead.

: Well, I’m done taking chances. Remus. Help me escort this invalid to Pierro’s barricade. I'll decide his fate there.

: Come along, Inspector.

: Fontaine. Falcon. Deal with the corpse. Meet us at the barricade when you’re done.

: There’s... there’s no way that this was the work of the police.

: An isolated gunshot? This far away from the police line? It doesn't make any sense at all. But that's rebellions for you. They're messy affairs. Sometimes innocents get caught in the crossfire, and there's no reason for it

: ...

: Well, there's no use dawdling. Help me get the corpse off the streets.

: Not yet. I'm going to examine the body first.

: Examine the body?

: We agree that this wasn't the work of Inspector Volerti, right? Then there might be some clues on the corpse that point towards what happened.

: An impromptu coroner's examination, eh? Fine. You have two minutes. After that, were heading to the barricade, whether you're done here or not.

: It's a longshot... but maybe this girl is faking her injury. Just for the sake of thoroughness, I really ought to check for a pulse.

: Right. .... No. Nothing.

: Everyone's been so fixated on who did this that nobody's stopped to ask who this girl was (sic, missing coma).

: I don't know, monsieur. Given her clothes, she's probably just another working girl.

: “Just another”?

: I didn't mean to sound glib, but it's true. This is one mademoiselle among the thousands who live in Paris. Who was she? Where did she work? Will her family miss her? I don't know. But in the long run, I don't think anybody will care.

: I care. I can't afford not to. I don't know who this mademoiselle was, but I'm going to see to it that justice is brought about for her death.

: What's this mark? It almost looks like...

: Probably the mademoiselle's.

: One fun possible deviation from the PW format would be NOT HAVING EVERYONE ACT LIKE A DROOLING IMBECILES ALL THE TIME. You can just have characters besides the protagonist state "yeah, there's no way the victim could have put her hand there". Jayjay would have the chance to shine his unique intelligence at some other point.

: I don't think so. It's the handprint of a left hand on the girl's left shoulder. There’s no way a person could comfortably reach that spot on their own back.

: I suppose so. But if the handprint doesn't belong to the girl, then who does it belong to?

: The murderer. It has to be. The question on my mind is, why is the handprint made in blood? Did the murderer sully their hand on the girl's gunshot wound? Or were they injured prior to the shooting? There’s so much to uncover here, and no time for a thorough investigation.

{[Bloody handprint]} has been added to your evidence folder.

: This is the bullet wound, right? What can you tell me about it, Fontaine?

: Well, it looks like the bullet took a fairly straight angle of entry through the mademoiselle's back. The shooter was probably standing right behind the victim.

: What's the bullet size? You know, its caliber?

: Let me guess. You're hoping that the caliber of the bullet is different to the caliber of the Inspector's gun. That would conveniently get that one-eyed police officer off the hook, wouldn't it? But I’m afraid I can’t help you. I couldn't possibly know a bullet's caliber without having a good look at the bullet itself.

: So... you need to see the bullet itself...

: Help me retrieve the bullet, Fontaine.

: “Retrieve?” You mean, dig it out.

: I assume you have a little more experience in this area than I do.

: Well, you’re not wrong there. Fine. This will only take a moment.

: ...

: Here you go. One used bullet.

: Why's that?

: The bullet fragmented upon impact, monsieur. I gathered all the pieces, but I cannot assess its diameter with any accuracy. Still, I would guess that it was... thirteen to seventeen millimeters. Sorry I can't be more specific.

: That’s an enormous help. Thank you, monsieur.

{[Fragmented bullet]} has been added to your evidence folder.

: Very good. Let's move this body off the street. Then, we must hurry to the Palais-Royal.

: ... Rest in peace, mademoiselle. I'll see to it that justice is done.

: Heh. Everything's going just as planned.

Tchaikovsky - Marche Slave

: Excuse me, monsieur!

: What do you want? I’m busy.

: Don't you recognize me, monsieur? I know that my disguises are a little more complex than yours, but I assumed you would recognize Prince Juan when you saw him.

: Prince Juan?!

: Indeed. And you're Judge Romulus, the corrupt wolf. I know what you did. You tried to assassinate the king. You shot the Croc-Monsieur. And just moments ago, I saw you murder a maiden at the Place de la Concorde. You truly are a vile individual, aren't you?

: Yeah, yeah, yeah. As if you have any proof for any of that stuff. I'm outta here.

: ...

: On any other day, would gut you where you stand, fox. But as it happens, I’m a little busy today.

: Oh? The Viridian Killer is too busy to kill me? Is that the truth, or is that bullet wound of yours starting to affect your prowess? You must have lost an awful lot of blood.

: What do I do... What do I do...