Karaoke Turnabout

Lang nodded in agreement, but then cocked his head. "But there's still one thing I don't understand. How can the motive actually be proven...?" He took the photo from Franziska and turned it over. "There's something written on the back...!"

Sumii took a look. ""What I Want To Say To Your True Face." Oh! It's the lyrics for the new song Taylor was supposed to release. He wrote it for the girl he's always loved."

"Well, this is the final piece, then!" Lang grinned triumphantly, turning the card back over to look at the photo.

Empathy was a dangerous thing at a crime scene. Emotions could only get in the way of a logical investigation. But after the drinks Franziska had had, and now that she understood the crime, she felt herself sympathizing with not only the victim, but the murderer as well. The depression was crushing, and Franziska wrapped an arm across herself, bowing her head in a daze.

Lang noticed the change in Franziska. Were her ribs bothering her? Her hair was hanging in her face, and he couldn't see her expression. "What's wrong?" he asked, concerned.

"Don't you see how sad this case is...?" Franziska asked Lang softly.

Lang scoffed. "It's a murder. Someone died. It's going to be sad."

"I guess you don't realize..." Franziska sighted. Clearing her throat, she straightened up and composed herself. "Detective Gumshoe. Gather every. We've solved the case."

As the detective herded the suspects, witnesses, and officers together, Franziska made a few quiet requests of the club manager, and soon, music was playing through the speakers."

"Hm?" Lang puzzled. "What's this song?" It sounded vaguely familiar, but he must have heard it abroad because it definitely wasn't Zheng Faian.

"It's "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer,"" Franziska explained, "a popular Christmas tune in this country." She raised her voice to address everyone. "It's also the song that stoked the fire of the murderer's hatred for Mr. Taylor Kennedy. In other words, the murderer is the person for whom Mr. Kennedy requested this song." Franziska pointed to the culprit. "That's right. You murdered him, Ms. Mary Thomas!"

Yanni and Shelton were stunned. "Mary killed Taylor...? That can't be!"

"Give me a break!" Thomas laughed nervously. "I was out of the room making a phone call when Taylor collapsed! How could I have poisoned him?"

"She's got a point, Ms. von Karma," Gumshoe frowned. "She was out of the room while Mr. Kennedy sang his hit song, ate that rice ball, and collapsed. And we concluded after our investigation that it would've been impossible for anyone to poisong the microphone or rice balls ahead of time. He was eating up until the moment he got up tot sing. If someone did slip him some poison, it had to have been while she was out."

Lang stepped up now. "True enough, at first glance, it appears impossible for her to have done it. But you can poison someone from afar. If you can make him sing this song." Sumii pressed a button on the karaoke control, and the intro to "Bloody Venus" played. Lang grinned wolfishly. The hunt was fun, but his favorite part was always cornering the prey. "Now let's her you sing it, Thomas. If you sing this song, we'll all know how you poisoned Kennedy. Now, we prepared a microphone. There's no poison on it."

Thomas shrugged. "All right. I'll sing it if that'll satisfy you."

She began to sing, but Franziska quickly stopped her. "Why aren't you taking off your jacket?" she asked. "Whenever Kennedy sang this song, he always took his jacket off. Isn't that right, everybody? From the top, if you would, please. And don't forget the choreography."

The song restarted, and now Thomas danced as well as sang. "She's really good!" Gumshoe said in surprise.

"Of course," Sumii said sadly. "She used to do twin vocals with Taylor in my old band..."

Thomas finished the song. "Are you satisfied?" she asked Franziska sharply.

Franziska was calm, Thomas's sweat strengthening her conviction. "Yes. Now, please, eat. We've ordered some food, and it's on the table. Eat just as Mr. Kennedy did. It's even the same food - rice balls, pizza, sadwiches, and vegetable snacks. Please, take your pick. If you dare to eat, that is."

Thomas had a moment of hesitation, but she quickly laughed it off. "No, thank you. Think about it. I touched Taylor after he collapsed. There was poison on his hand and clothes, so I could have some on my hands right now!"

"Detective, examine the jacket she took off," Lang instructed Gumshoe.

"It's the s-same with the jacket!" Thomas cried suddenly. "I wore it after I touched him! Even if you find poison somewhere, it doesn't prove a thing!"

"We're not looking for poison," Lang grinned. "There should be a small item in a pocket, something Kennedy used regularly, until his death."

"A lighter?" Gumshoe puzzled, pulling it out of a pocket.

"You should find that only Mr. Kennedy's prints are on it," Franziska explained. "I thought it was odd that his pack of cigarettes and ashes were here, but no lighter."

"Why would his lighter be in her jacket?"

Franziska shook her head. "Simple. That is not her jacket. To get rid of the evidence, she switched her jacket with his! You see, she applied poison inside the sleeve of his jacket near the left elbow area. When he wore the jacket, the poison would rub onto the shirt he was wearing underneath. Then, all she had to do was make him sing "Bloody Venus." As choreographed, he would take the jacket off and then cross his arms. At that point, his right hand would grip his left arm near the elbow. When he later touched his food with that hand, he'd end up ingesting the poison. As I mentioned earlier, the food on the table was all 'finger food.' Everything, including the rice balls, was something with which you use your hands to eat. I suspect Ms. Thomas ordered the food herself. When this song came on, she announced that she needed to make a phone call and left the room to establish an alibi. She went to the trouble of taking off her jacket so it'd be easy to exchange it for his poison-contaminated jacket. What she didn't realize was that his lighter was in it. That lighter is solid proof. It's proof that she's the murderer!"

"So the suicide note was her doing, too?" Gumshoe realized.

"But why?!" Shelton protested. "What reason did she have to kill Taylor?"

"This photo contains her motive," Lang said, holding up the evidence. "It's from the days when Kennedy and Sumii were in a band together."

Gumshoe was still confused. "Hm? I see the two of them, but I don't get-"

Lang cut him off impatiently. "She's in it, too! In the center with Kennedy." Indeed, there was a female vocalist on stage in the photo. Though, while she did bear a resemblance to Thomas, she looked very different.

"Huh??? But this isn't...!"

"But it is. Look at the girl in the photo, and you'll understand the motive for this murder."

Thomas cracked. "Yes! I had plastic surgery! It was all for Taylor! I loved him... Ever since we were in that band. When he was about to sign on as a pro, he said, 'Come be my manager.' I was so happy. I thought maybe... he loved me, too. That's why I got plastic surgery. I wanted to be the perfect manager... the perfect woman... for Taylor. But as soon as I had the surgery, his attitude suddenly changed. He made fun of me all the time, calling me 'ugly' this and 'ugly' that. Remember how he even made me sing "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer?""

"Taylor did request that song for her," Yanni said with a pained expression. "I gues... you could take it that way."

Thomas was angry and hurt and sorrowful all at the same time. "From the very beginning, he only made me his manager so he could make fun of me. I couldn't forgive him for that... because I loved him. I trusted him. So I just couldn't forgive him!"

"You're wrong, Ms. Thomas." Franziska looked about ready to cry, and her voice was full of pity. "From long ago, Mr. Kennedy has always loved you."

"Don't be crazy!" Thomas yelled. "What do you know?!"

Sumii approached her. "Mary... what she's saying is true. Here, look at the back of this photo. It's for you... the woman e always loved. It's Taylor's love song to you!"

Tears welled up in Thomas's eyes. "Y-you're lying!"

But Sumii persisted. "It's no lie. Those are the lyrics for Taylor's new song. He always talked about you. He'd askd, 'Why does she care what other people think? Why did she change her face for me?'"

"But he... he always acted like..."

"He wasn't a very straight-forward guy. He probably just wanted the old you back."

Thomas shook her head. "No... No..."

"Then you're the one Taylor was talking about," Shelton realized. "You're the woman he loved!"

"Taylor talked about you guys, too," Sumii told Shelton and Yanni. "Taylor was ordered to make this solo debut, but he was worried that once you guys were left behind, you might lose heart."

"S-so Taylor was trying to spur us on..?"

"Then he said those terrible things to us on purpose..."

Thomas was crying freely. "Taylor... Taylor... TAYLOR!!!"

The police arrested Mary Thomas, and she was charged with first degree murder. The club had been closed hours ago, as soon as the investigation became too large to hide from the patrons, so it was quiet as Lang and Franziska left. Dawn was just beginning to break, pinks and oranges tinging the eastern sky. "Why don't we take a walk along the river?" Lang suggested. "Decompress?"

Franziska nodded silently. She said nothing for some time, in part due to the bitter lump in her throat, and in part due to pointlessness of her thoughts. So many what ifs swam through her head. What if Kennedy had just said what was on his mind? What if he and Thomas had never fallen in love? What if Thomas had said what was on her mind? So many doubts and secrets... A cold breeze blew off the water, and Franziska shivered, wrapping her arms around herself.

Franziska's dress was hot, but it wasn't warm at all, and unfortunately, Lang didn't have his jacket to offer her. "Come here," he ordered softly, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close. He risked the wrath of the von Karma, but he had to at least do something about her chill. And he couldn't stand that numb expression on her face. "What are you thinking, sis?"

Franziska gasped, but that only served to make her inhale more of his scent that she would have otherwise. He smelled powerfully masculine, but not too musky. The scent combined with his warmth and the security of his arm to calm Franziska. She took a moment to order her thoughts, then confided, "It was a sad evening brought about by the tragic misunderstanding between a man who would not reveal his ture feelings and a woman who hid her true face. Amidst her grief and tears, only the photo smiled sadly. It was mute evidence of an old love, lost forever..."

Lang thought about that for a moment, then smirked. "You von Karmas, always waxing poetic at the end of a case. I remember Edgeworth doing the same thing. Is that something Manfred taught the two of you?"

"Hm," Franziska chuckled, glad for the subject change. "Absolutely not. A prosecutor can't be bothered to study something as useless as poetry," she returned. Then she yawned. "Lang, I think it's time to call it a night. Figuratively." The tops of the taller buildings were now illuminated by the rising sun, but Franziska wanted nothing more than to collapse into bed.

"I think you're right," Lang agreed. He let Franziska lean on him on the way back to their building and up to their room. When they stopped in the hall to part ways, Lang stopped and took Franziska's hand, brushing her hair out of her face. "You've had a rough night. Sleep off this funk. You did good tonight. Really, you caught the real criminal."

"I just feel like that murder was so avoidable in the first place, if the two of them had just talked..." Franziska couldn't even blame her mood on the alcohol anymore. It had been a few hours since her last drink, and she'd only had two. Her body had had plenty of time to process the alcohol and sober up. "I do need to sleep," she sighed. "We'll see each other later, Agent Lang, perhaps later today." She pulled her hand from his and turned to unlock her door.

Lang turned to his door, as well. As he opened it, a thought occurred to him. So maybe he couldn't make her smile, but he could still do something. If the two of them had just talked... "Franziska," he said over his shoulder. "Call me Shi-Long." And with that, he vanished into his room. He knew that that one request would probably change their entire dynamic, but he would let Franziska sleep on that.

Franziska's eyes widened, and she whirled back towards Lang, but she found herself staring at a closed door. He'd called her by her first name. He'd asked that she call him by his first name. Everything from that morning began clicking into place. The hand hold, the brush of her hair, their walk by the water, their outing at all. A faint blush spread across her face. But what if she was jumping to conclusions? What if she was adding zero and zero to make two? Franziska was so confused, perhaps things would make more sense after she slept.