Part 31: The Worst Lawyer

: A brief interlude before we get into the worst ending, exploring the adventures of the worst lawyer. Let's have a brief vignette collection of fails throughout the game:

: I don't suppose you'd happen to have some spare change?

Kangaroos



: Sorry, Madame. I haven't a cent to give, just like everyone else these days.

: No worries messieurs, I understand. God bless ya both.

: I thought you were more of a giving type, Falcon.

: Times are tough, Sparrowson. Certainly, I have a franc to give today, but tomorrow-







: Something wrong?

: That little kangaroo kid stole my wallet!

: Heh.

: It's not funny! Where did they go?!

: Let it go. They probably needed it more than you did.

: Gah! That won't stop me from giving them what-for if I see them again.

: Come on, we've got business to do.





: So what shall we do? Do we just... take this?

: We've come this far. We may as well “borrow” it.

{[Studio photograph]} has been added to your evidence folder.





: Some kids did it. Little weasel types. We saw them.

: Yeah! Weasels! They were all like, “Let's break into this art guy's house”. And we were like, “No, weasels! You cannot do that because that would be illegal!” And then they were like-

: We chased them off. That's the important thing.

: Well, thank you, I suppose.

: Let's make a move. Trial day is approaching fast.

: Right. Let’s go.



: Tooroorooroo...



Trial Turnabout

: I can't do that.

: Well, I suppose you could be a little more delicate with your words.

: No. I mean, I can't do that because our evidence was illegally obtained. If I were to present it, Monsieur Robinio would ask how we acquired it, and the whole trial could derail. In a worst case scenario, I could lose my legal license, and we would be arrested for theft.

: Oh. Well, we don't want that.

: No. No, we don’t. I should tread lightly.



: Let's fast forward to the first day of Prince Juan's trial, and see how we can screw that one up. After all, screwing up Caterline's trial is objectively a good thing, and utterly unfitting of the worst lawyer.

: Surely you meant to say 10 o'clock?

: I beg your pardon?

: You clucked... like a chicken...

: Jayjay, do you really want to kick off this trial by picking on petty pronunciation peculiarities?



: Really now, that is a ridiculous thing to pick up on. Yes, Jayjay, us roosters have been known to cluck on occasion. It's a habit. Get over it.



: ...

: Falcon, I can understand having doubts about one or two testimonies, but are you really saying that twenty-two people were coerced?

: It's a realistic possibility that we must consider.

: Monsieur Falcon. I know a thing or two about corruption. I've seen plenty of liars during my time as a police officer.

: A man can be bribed or threatened into reciting a lie. Perhaps five or six can maintain a consistent story.

: But twenty-two? The seams of the lie would show well before then. It’s just not possible.

: Well said, inspector. Defense! Don't waste our time by bringing up these stupid possibilities.



: A what now?

: A mistrial. This trial is not progressing in a manner befitting of justice. The defense is blatantly floundering... more-so than usual. He is seemingly unable to provide a single coherent thought.

: Hey!

: He's got a point, Falcon. Your arguments have been all over the place.

: Perhaps the defense's arguments are terrible because there is nothing that can be defended.

: That's possible. Or perhaps he is drunk. It wouldn't be the first time.

: I'm not drunk!



: In any case, I suggest that we hold off on the trial until the defense can put more than two words together without stumbling.

: This is ridiculous. Why are we letting a blatant criminal get a free pass just because his lawyer is an alcoholic?

: Your honor, I am as certain of Juan Querido's guilt as you are. But to prove his guilt the legal way - the right way - I need a competent opponent to debate with. Let me deliver justice in a suitable legal environment. Give the defense one more chance to gather their evidence.

: ... Gah! Fine. Court will resume this Friday, the 21st of January, at 9 o’clock. Don't be late. Prosecutor, do your damned job. Get this stupid fox a conviction already.

: I will do my best to ensure that justice is served, your honor.

: Defense! Don't think you can worm out of the second trial session with any more “mistrial” nonsense. One slip-up, and I'll condemn the stupid fox on the spot!







: How could you mess up that trial session so badly?

: No need for the personal insults. I'm doing my best.

: Evidently, your best is not good enough. Your client would be awaiting the guillotine if I hadn't played the mistrial card back there.

: Why do you care? I thought securing guilty verdicts was your raison d'etre.

: Yeah! You were bragging about a quick trial and everything!

: You hopeless, blithering fools! I don't live to condemn criminals. I live to ensure that justice is served. And I can't do that if the opposition wastes their time twiddling their thumbs when they should be building a defense. ~Sigh~



: Did you chase after us just to berate us?

: No. I came to give you this. It's a letter that ended up in my pigeon hole, but it's addressed to you.

: A letter for me? I wonder why it wasn't sent to my office...

: I don't know. I'm not a courier.



: Get... get our what? Is that an expression now?



: We're definitely not going to get our merde together. In fact, we're going to fail the second day even harder than the first (there's only one mistake you can make during the cross-examination before Sparrowson shows up, so you have to literally be trying to lose).

: I have ample reason! Please answer the question, your majesty. Are you sure that you approached the Louvre from the south?



: I know I'm getting on, monsieur, but I'm not senile.

: How dare you insult the king with such a stupid question?! Not to mention wasting the court's time. The utter nerve...



: Then, you waste both my time and the kings time with ridiculous theories and pointless speculation.

: I must agree. This whole affair does seem rather anti-climactic. I'm going home.

: Your honor-

: Enough. Both of you.

: We will now deliberate the facts of the case before we reach a verdict. Please remain quietly seated during this time.

: Jayjay. What happened?

: I've got to be honest, Séverin...



: How disappointing.

: Well, that was simple. We, the court, find Prince Juan Querido to be guilty of the murder of Major Howl, and of conspiring to murder the king.

: Despite the defense's protests, the evidence is indisputable. We sentence him to death by guillotine. He shall be executed tomorrow at 9:00 am sharp, at the Place d'Austerlitz.

: ...



George Bizet: Carmen Suite #1 - Aragonaise

: I could see that this trial could go in a dozen different directions. But I never anticipated that it would end right here and now. Most peculiar...

: I don't know what to say. I really screwed up.

: Yes, you did. But thankfully, you could have screwed up much worse. Tell me, do you know why I chose you as my defense lawyer, Senor Falcon?

: Because I’m so handsome?

: Heh. No, Senor Falcon. Definitely not. I chose you to act as my attorney because I had faith in your character. And I stand by that decision - you have great character. But now I see that you are lacking in the head. Still, it’s no matter.

: No matter? Your life is over because I messed up!

: My life is over? Hardly.

: Do you have the keys to these handcuffs, Mousey?



: Shoo, mouse, shoo! You're standing on my papers!

: Many thanks, little one.

: W-wait, where did that mouse come from? Did that fox just free himself? Someone, arrest them both!

: Listen, Monsieur Falcon. You are spending so much time jousting your giants, that you aren't seeing the windmills in front of you. Do you understand?

: Not at all.

: That's a pity. Come visit R&M Associates sometime. Maybe I can explain it better there.



: Ah, it looks like I have to run. Farewell, Monsieur Falcon. We'll meet again soon, no doubt.

: Hey! come back here!

: (sic)

: Hmph. There's nothing more sickening than a guilty person who resists their verdict. Court is adjourned. The fox will be executed... once we catch him.

: Well, Jayjay. That was a complete mess of a trial, from start to finish.

: Stop calling me Jayjay. Don't I deserve a gram of respect as a lawyer?

: If this is how you conduct yourself, then no, you don't. Get your merde together.

: ...









: Where is everyone?

: I'm glad to see you're feeling better, Sparrowson. But, uh...

: It’s already over?!

: Indeed it is. Time for Act 3.





: He didn't in this timeline though. Pay attention.





: Nope. The inspector's a crime-obsessed nincompoop. I have no intention of listening to anything he has to say.

: But what if the proposals really good? Like, “we have one hundred liters of wine that need to be drunk post-haste”?

: Wishful thinking. It’s more likely he just has some paper-pushing task that the police can't be bothered to do.

: Hmm... can I make a suggestion? Let's go meet the inspector. If he gives us an impossibly good wine gig, then we can graciously accept.

: And if he offers us a terrible paper-pushing job?

: Then we can reject it to his face. In style! We can tell him... we can tell him...

: To shove it?

: Yeah! We can be, like, “shove it, inspector!” Say it with me, Falcon.

: Shove it, inspector! Shove your lousy paper-pushing job!

: Louder!



: ...That felt pretty good.

: Alright! Let’s go stick it to the inspector in-person!



: Oh, by the by, did you hear what happened to Judge Romulus?



: Wait, you have correct memories for this timeline, but not Falcon?

: He acquired his position through illegal means? What does that even mean?

: I'm a little hazy on the details. Something about pushing another judge into the Seine.

: I can believe that.



: Nothing would convince me. I appreciate the offer , Inspector, but my mind is made up.

: That is most unfortunate. Well then, I shan't keep you any longer.

: Thank you for your understanding. Come along, Sparrowson. We have business to attend to at the office.

: We do? Oh, right, we do.

: Good day, Falcon.

: Good day, Inspector. Good day, Séverin.

: Falcon always was a little pig-headed. Maybe he feels put-off by working with us roosters of justice.

: Or maybe, dare I say, he feels sympathetic to the rebel cause.

: In any case, I should probably start my investigation into the Croque-Monsieur.

: Not so fast, Monsieur Cocorico. There is something else we need to discuss...



: I must say, I'm a little disappointed, Falcon.



: If not for the glory of serving France, than at least for the... y'know... money.

: I think you misunderstand, Sparrowson. We aren't going to be sitting here, twiddling our thumbs.

: But we don’t have a case.

: No, but we have plenty of work to do. We must find this so-called Croque-Monsieur, and track down the rebels.

: Huh? You rejected the Inspector's offer, but you're going to do the work anyway? I'm confused.

: Knowledge is power, Sparrowson. Let's say that we manage to learn exactly where the rebels are meeting. What can we do with that information? One option would be to offer our services to the rebel group. When they are inevitably arrested, we get to defend them in court.



: I don't like this discussion. Aren't we supposed to be the good guys?

: Well, if we wanted to play it perfectly straight, we could just give any information we find directly to the Inspector. At least now we can do our investigation without having to play by the Inspector's rules.

: That's true, I guess. Alright, you've convinced me. We'll uncover the identity of the Croque-Monsieur, and we'll track down those rebels. And then...

: And then we’ll play it by ear.

: Yeah! We'll wing it!



: We're actually going to do the fetch quest properly. Well, properly after the worst introduction.



Etude

: Debt collectors. You've angered Docteur Falret, and we're here to collect on his behalf, one way or another.

: Oh mon Dieu!

: You should never have messed with the good docteur!

: It’s time to pay. Cough up the moolahl

: Yeah! Cough it up! Or we're going to start breaking legs!



: (Yeah.. It sounded fine in my head, but now I'm hearing it out loud...)

: There's no need to get violent, messieurs. I'm happy to pay the debt.

: Oh, good. We can drop the tough guy routine, then.

: I don't quite have enough money on-hand, but...





Carnival of the Animals~L'Elephant

: Welkom, welkom! Ah, it’s you two again!

: You remember us? I guess that's no surprise...

: Of course I remember! You are the messieurs who ask many questions and buy little chocolate!

: I'm afraid we have more questions today, Monsieur Hagelslak. Thanks for being patient with us. Have you heard any rumors of rebellion in Paris recently?

: Why monsieur, there are always rumors of rebellion in Paris. The citizens whisper in the shadows. The bourgeois cower in fear..

: Yes, yes, but have you, personally, heard anything specific?

: No, monsieur.

: ...



: Of course! One time, I was hiking through the mountains of the Netherlands, and I was accosted by an overzealous tulip salesman. I threw a fistful of Dutch Rubels at him, and made a hasty retreat.

: I can't help but wonder about the legitimacy of Lander's stories. But for some reason, his tangential rants don't bother me.

: Let me be more specific. We're looking for a person called the Croque-Monsieur. Does that name sound familiar?

: No, monsieur.

: I suppose we’re done here. I guess it was a little silly of me to look for intel about a rebellion in a chocolate shop.

: Perhaps l could help you with something else, monsieur.

: Like what?

: Well, you may have noticed that this is, in fact, a chocolate shop. I am of much better service as a chocolate salesman than a rumor-mongerer.

: Ah. Of course. I'm looking to buy a box of chocolates for a friend. May I have a recommendation?





: (C-could it be...)



: Certainly, monsieur! If you are looking for something romantic, then perhaps an elegant heart-shaped selection from Tuscany would suit you?

: Romantic, you say...





: (I... I don't feel that way about you, Falcon... but how could I decline such a scrumptious gift?)

: No, that wouldn't work. Do you have anything that would be suitable for any occasion?



: Hmm...





: (Yes! Those are perfect! Take them, Falcon.)(Takethemtakethemtakethemtakethem...)

: For pity's sake, Sparrowson. Why are you being so figity?

: N-no reason.

: Then cut it out. It's weird.

: I think those would work nicely, Monsieur Hagelslak. How much are they?

: Five francs. Perhaps a little steep for some, but I assure you that their quality more than justifies the price tag.



: Can I get a “good guy” discount? You know, for being such an upstanding citizen?

: Hmm... I really shouldn't, monsieur...

: I underst-

: Ha! Just kidding. Of course you can! How about I give you these for free, as a token of Belgian generosity?

: Really?

: Of course! Because you are such wonderful customers!

: We are?

: Absolutely! One moment, if you please, messieurs. I shall go wrap these up.

: F-Falcon.

: What is it?



: You do know that these chocolates aren't for you, right?

: Oh...

: ...

: Yeah. I knew that.

: Good. Just making sure.



: (You're breaking my heart, Falcon...)

: Here you are, monsieur. I am sure the recipient will enjoy them.

A {[box of chocolates]} has been added to your evidence folder.

: Thank you very much, monsieur. And thank you for putting up with our endless questions.

: Heh. It has been my pleasure, monsieur.



: Let's go get some fishing line.



: I don't owe you anything, monsieur! You dragged me out of the water on your own volition.

: Hmph. So much for gratitude.

: This doesn't actually change the price of the fishing line.



: Would these work as bait, monsieur?

: Are these fancy chocolates? Wow! Yeah, these would definitely work. Okay, so I’ll just take these chocolates off your hands... And then I’ll give you my fishing line. ...And the deal is made!

{[Fishing Line]} has been added to your evidence folder.

: Wait. Hold on. Now I have fishing bait but no fishing line. I did not think this deal through.



: Let's visit the Louvre.





: I can’t help but feel that I saw something here a couple of weeks ago... something that may be of use to us...

: Really? Alright, let's take a look around.



: Hmm... this wouldn't do. It looks like it's made of iron, and it would be too heavy to move anyway...

: How ironic.

: That's not... never mind.



: Even if this column were useful, I can’t imagine that we could take it with us.



: Columns! These could be useful if we feel like recreating famous moments of Roman history! I'll be Brutus. You be Caesar.

: Why do I have to be Caesar? Actually, never mind that. Why are we acting out Roman history? We have a job to do!



: Some of these plates look like a suitable size... but I think they're made of bronze. That’s no good.



: Is this thing useful? The giant doorstep?

: No, but I'll keep it in mind in case we encounter any giant doors.



: This urn...



: Yes, but more importantly: It’s made of copper.

: Oooooooh, I see. You're thinking of Monsieur Trouvé's request. He wanted a copper pot, didn’t he? This would do nicely. But... but this is a museum piece. We couldn’t just take it... could we?

: Couldn't we?

: I don't know. Could we?

: We could. You want to be a museum robber, Sparrowson?

: It's been my lifelong dream.

: Marvelous. Put this urn under your coat.

: That's not going to fit under my coat!



: Hey!

{[Copper urn]} has been sneakily added to your evidence folder.

: This is exciting. What else shall we steal?

: Nothing. We're going to leave before we draw suspicion.

: How about a painting? Just a small one no one will care about. Like the Mona Lisa! Let’s steal the Mona Lisa.

: Let's not. We're done here. For now, at least.

: We can't spend all day robbing Roman artifacts, I suppose. So, where to next?



: We can actually buy the line and pot even having acquired them elsewhere, but no one really reacts.









: To compound things, let's refuse Renard's services. Though we already failed regardless.

: Messieurs, what sort of tea would you like? Chamomile? Darjeeling, maybe?

: I don't suppose you have any coffee, do you?

: ...



: Now, now, Mousey. If our guests prefer coffee to tea, that's not for us to judge.

: I suppose they will be wanting milk and sugar too.

: Ooh, yeah, three spoonfuls would be lovely.

: Hmmph. You have no taste at all.

: I apologize for Mousey. He's quite opinionated when it comes to matters of hot drinks.

: Can't blame him. It's an important issue.

: A bit later...

: Thirty francs such little work is extortion. I’m not paying that.

: Sic.

: My price is high because my services are exquisite. I have absolute confidence that I can find the Croque-Monsieur. Are you sure you don't want to reconsider?

: l'm sure.

: Pity. Well, feel free to return if you change your mind.



: Ah, Judge Maxime!



: Sparrowson.

: Right. Sparrowton.

: Your honor, we heard that you had had an accident with a flight of stairs. It’s good to see that you’re back on your feet.

: A flight of stairs? No, no. I was actually assaulted, if you can believe that.

: I can believe that.

: I was just standing by the Seine, minding my own business, and the next thing I know I was on a riverbank, a hundred kilometers downstream!

: That sounds a little familiar...



: It took two weeks for me to return to full mental health.

: In any case, your honor, it's good to see you back and healthy. Would you mind if we ran a couple of questions by you, as part of an investigation were undertaking?

: By all means, ask away, monsieur.

: Judge Maxime, have you ever heard of a person called the Croque-Monsieur?

: Hmm. You're referring to the arms dealer, aren't you?

: Yes! Have you ever convicted him?

: No. The man is notoriously unfindable and uncatchable. I don't think anyone working in law enforcement has so much as seen his face.

: That's crazy...

: Well, there’s no reason why we can't be the first to stop him. Right, Falcon?

: Judge Maxime, have you heard any rumors about an uprising?



: You know, I was the one in charge of prosecuting the ones behind the June Days Uprising of ’32? That was some messy legal work.

: What about recently? Have you had anyone talk of anything specific?

: Well, I'm not attached to the case, but I hear that imposter, Judge Romulus, had some very strange things to say. Cults, anarchy, fire and gunpowder... the man is not mentally stable.

: We knew that much already...

: That's all. Thank you for your time, your honor.





Ghouls

: Come on, Falcon. Pull yourself together! We've got to act fast while there's still time on the clock!

: ... Sparrowson. I have a bad feeling in my gut.

: Well, yeah. Me too. This letter is terrifying stuff.

: No. You don't understand. I know that, if Séverin isn't already dead now, he will be very soon. And there is nothing we can do about it.

: What are you talking about? You don't know that.

: I do. I am certain. We've messed up. We've missed something. We've overlooked something vital. And now Séverin's fate is sealed.

: You're spouting defeatist nonsense. Come on, Falcon. Let's go visit the Rue des Marmousets. We might find a clue.





Catacombs

: ...

: Cocorico's going to die if you don't say something!

: ... It doesn't matter. None of this matters.

: What?!



: Just pull the trigger and be done with it.





: F-Falcon?



: Falcon! Stop!



: Look around you, Sparrowson. Fat-cat bourgeois are getting away with murder. Wolves have infested the courts and churches. Séverin Cocorico, perhaps the most righteous person in all of France, is lying dead at the hands of an unruly mob. Justice is dead, Sparrowson.

: It doesn't have to be like that! You could have done something to save Séverin!

: You want to be a heroic lawyer so badly? Fine. Go be a hero. You don’t need my help.



: What? What are you... No! Stop with the melodrama, Falcon. If we hurry, well be able to tell Inspector Volerti what we saw, and he'll be able to arrest the rebels before they escape.

: So do it. You don’t need me to hold your hand. And when you see the Inspector, make sure to tell him this: the Viridian Killer has returned.

: The... Viridian Killer... I don’t understand.



: Falcon!