by H J Peterson
The inspector perked up when he heard that. “What do you know about it?”
“I think I might have a lead for you,” Friedrich said.
“Chief will be back in a little while,” he said. “You can stay here, or you can come back in a little while.”
“We’ll stay,” Friedrich said. “How long do you think it’ll take?”
“Who knows?” The inspector said. “Hearings take a while. Especially when they involve murderers.”
XXXII. ADELRIC
Adelric looked out at Königstadt from the back of a police car, not looking forward to what he was about to do. That day, the police had come to pick him up to take him to a place that he really, really didn’t want to go: court. From what he was told, they were going to see whether or not he would be useful to their case, and if they decided that he wasn’t, they would send him right to prison to wait for the court case that would decide whether or not he would spend the rest of his life in prison or face execution. If they decided he was useful, they would decide whether or not he could go back to his apartment, whether or not he would have police protection, and everything else that needed to be decided when one became a police informant.
“Where are we going?” Adelric asked as he looked up at the two men in the car with him. It was two older men: one grumpy one named Berkowitz, and a seemingly kinder one named Bouchard. “Are we going to the Palace of Justice?”
“That isn’t the only courthouse in the city,” Bouchard said.
“Don’t worry about it, Biermann,” Berkowitz said. He was looking out his window, as well, apparently bored out of his mind. “You’ll get your trial soon enough; it just won’t be in a pretty courtroom.”
It wasn’t too long after that that they drove up to the headquarters of the Königstadt Guard: an unassuming building, one that didn’t look any different from the other buildings in Königstadt. Well, it would’ve looked like any other building, if it weren’t for the fact that the press was swarming the front of the place like rats fighting over a piece of food. Two men dressed in the red of the Königstadt guard stood at the front door, stone faced.
Adelric sunk lower in his seat as they pulled up to the curb. Were they really all there just for this hearing? Didn’t they have something better to do with their lives?
Bouchard looked at him and began to chuckle. “Would you look at that; the kid’s as afraid of the press as you are, Berkowitz.”
Berkowitz eyed the reporters with a look to kill and muttered something about a group of vultures, while Bouchard turned off the car.
The two of them got out of the car, opened the door, and escorted him out of the car, unleashing the firestorm.
The second the reporters saw him, they started swarming. They all blurted out their questions, pushing and shoving in an effort to get to the three of them. A few of them began to snap pictures, nearly blinding him with the flashing of bulbs. “Biermann: what do you have to say about the murder of Lord Saaltz?” “Are you guilty?” “Biermann: what do you have to say to the family of Lord Saaltz?” Adelric was dazed by the bright lights and the shouting, and if it weren’t for the help of Berkowitz and Bouchard, who shoved them all away so they could get to the doors of the headquarters, he probably wouldn’t have been able to get through the crowd.
Once the guards outside the doors saw them, they opened the door, letting them inside the safety of the building.
Adelric sighed in relief. He never thought that he’d think this, but he was relieved to be in a courthouse.
Well, he was relieved, at least, until they began to walk through the building and towards the courtroom. The time he’d been dreading since he killed Lord Saaltz had finally arrived: he was going to have to answer for the thing that he did nearly a month ago, and he didn’t think they would be merciful.
He took a deep breath to try and calm his nerves as they walked into the courtroom. Heaven help him: he had a feeling that he was going to need it.
The courtroom was a little on the small side, and very utilitarian. The walls were white, with wood paneling on the lower parts of the wall, and a painting of what looked to be some sort of battle, but only heaven knew just which battle it was. The people invited to watch the trial–including police inspectors and Lord Saaltz’s family–were sitting on benches in the back half of the courtroom, separated from the spot where the people actually participating in the trial–including Adelric–by a waist-high railing. They sat him down at a desk, where a weaselly looking guy that Adelric guessed was his lawyer was sitting, going through a stack of papers. They were on the other side of the room from where the prosecution’s lawyers were sitting, and in front of the raised, platform-like place where the judge, the bailiff, and the scribe would be sitting. At the moment, though, the scribe was the only one sitting there. He was getting his supplies ready, preparing himself to write down every word that would be spoken at the trial.
Bouchard and Berkowitz sat on either side of Adelric. Neither of them made a move to tack off the shackles.
“What are the odds of them going along with this?” Adelric asked, looking back and forth between Berkowitz and Bouchard.
Berkowitz snorted, folding his arms over his chest. “Hell if I know.”
Adelric frowned, looking down at his hands. Needless to say, that didn’t exactly bolster his confidence about this whole thing.
“We have a good case; the only question is whether or not the judge will agree with us,” Bouchard reassured him.
Also not much of a confidence boost. He didn’t really like the idea of trusting his life in the hands of a man that was, more than likely, a nobleman, himself. Why would a nobleman want to let Adelric, someone who’d killed a noble in a place where they felt safe, wander around with the police? Even if they had a pretty great case for it, it wouldn’t exactly be an easy sell.
Adelric looked down at the shackles. He was starting to think he’d have to wear them for the rest of his life.
A man walked into the room, wearing the red uniform of the Königstadt guard. Adelric could only assume that he was the bailiff for this case.
“Please stand for the honorable Judge Hans Kranzer,” the bailiff said as an old guy in the simple, dark, violet robes of a high judge. It made Adelric even more nervous: according to Vorbereicher law, the only people who could overturn a ruling from a high judge was the emperor and the judge who made the ruling in the first place. If they didn’t make a good enough case, there was virtually no chance of the decision getting reversed.
Well, that, and high judges had the authority to give the death penalty.
Everyone stood as Judge Kranzer walked through the courtroom. A hush fell over everyone in the courtroom as he walked through.
He sat down and looked around at everyone in the room. “You may be seated.”
Everyone sat down. The trial that would decide Adelric’s future had begun.
Judge Kranzer shuffled through some papers, then looked back up at the people that would be participating in the trial. Adelric could barely hold the man’s gaze.
“I must say: this is a rather… unusual trial,” he said, looking over at where Bouchard, Berkowitz, and Adelric and his lawyer were sitting. “I’m not used to seeing you on this side of the room, Chief Berkowitz; these must be some serious circumstances.”
“Serious as sin, your honor,” Berkowitz confirmed.
Judge Kranzer gave a quick nod and skimmed through a few papers, again, raising an eyebrow.
“This is just a hearing for criminal witness status?” Judge Kranzer looked up at Bouchard. “A provincial judge would’ve been perfectly sufficient for this case, Commissioner Bouchard. Why did you request a hearing in front of a high judge?”
Adelric looked, over at Bouchard, more than a little shocked. They’d requested a high judge? Were they that confident in their case, or were they insane? Adelric had the nasty feeling that it was a little of both.
“As you know, your honor, the man in question has
confessed of the crime of first-degree murder,” Bouchard said, standing out of respect. “His testimony, however, is key to finding an even more dangerous criminal. The Königstadt police department simply wishes to avoid the possibility of the verdict of this court from being overturned by another judge.”
Their case had better be as strong as they thought it was.
“Interesting,” Judge Kranzer said. He looked over at the prosecution’s table. “Any special reason why you’re against this motion, Mr. Bannock, or are you using the usual reasons?”
Bannock, the prosecuting lawyer, stood up, smoothing out the front of his suit. He was very well groomed and well dressed; if Adelric were to guess, he was some sort of noble, though the odds were, he wasn’t very high: maybe some sort of Viscount, or a Baron.
“If by usual reasons, your honor, you mean the fact that he’s too dangerous to be allowed into society, even under this sort of protection, then yes,” Bannock said with a slight accent, his voice deep in his throat. If he had to guess, he would say that Bannock was Gelynian.
“That’s what I thought,” Judge Kranzer said. He looked over the rest of the courtroom. “This should be fairly quick, then.” He looked over at the defense table, again. “Mr. Boer, the floor is yours.”
Adelric’s lawyer, Mr. Boer, stood up and gave a slight nod. “Thank you, your honor.”
He turned to face the court as he walked back out from behind the table to talk to the people in the courtroom.
“Honorable Judge Kranzer, ladies and gentlemen, I am sure that all of you are very aware of the gravity of this case,” Boer began. “My client, Adelric Biermann, has been accused of the murder of Lord Edwin Saaltz, and he has freely confessed of this crime. However, this is not what is at debate at this hearing.”
Boer motioned at Adelric. He fought the urge to run and hide.
“The fact of the matter is, the death of Lord Saaltz, though untimely and tragic, is only a small part of a larger whole,” he continued. “That bigger whole is the Archangel and his New Dawn movement, and pardon my pessimism, but I’m afraid that he will make things worse than they already are before things get any better. The information that my client will be able to provide in order to bring justice to the Archangel greatly outweighs the need for justice for Lord Saaltz’s murder. Let his sentence be service to his country in this regard.” Boer turned to the judge, gave another respectful nod, and sat back down.
The judge nodded, waiting for a brief second so the scribe could catch up.
He looked over at the prosecution’s table. “Mr. Bannock: do you have a response?”
Bannock stood and nodded. “I do, your honor.”
Judge Kranzer nodded, again, and motioned towards him. “Proceed.”
Bannock looked over the people in the courtroom. “Ladies and gentlemen, Honorable Judge Kranzer, what Mr. Boer has asserted about the death of Lord Saaltz is absolutely horrifying.” He looked over at the defense table. “Do you really not think that justice is important? I’m appalled that a lawyer like yourself would believe that; then again, you’re also one of the top defense lawyers in the country-”
“Careful, Mr. Bannock,” Judge Kranzer warned. Bannock looked back at him. “I won’t have you slandering a perfectly respectable man in my courtroom.”
“Of course, your honor; forgive me,” Bannock said with a slight bow. He looked back at the people in the courtroom. “To get to my point, I believe that Lord Saaltz deserves justice, considering the absolutely brutal way he was killed.”
Bannock looked over at Adelric. He found himself shrinking back in his seat. How could someone who didn’t even know him be so angry with him?
He looked back at Judge Kranzer. “Your honor, justice for Lord Saaltz is very, very important. Nobody forced Adelric Biermann to do what he did: he could’ve chosen to say no, but he didn’t. Hold him responsible for a crime he chose to commit of his own free will.”
Bannock gave the judge one final nod of respect, then sat back down.
Adelric looked down at his hands as Judge Kranzer gave Boer permission to give his case. He couldn’t help but wonder if Bannock was right. The fact of the matter was, nobody did force him to kill Lord Saaltz. He probably could’ve told Bator to get someone else, and he would’ve: back while they were planning all that, they weren’t interested in killing him because of his Alchemist abilities.
Was he too dangerous to be let out on the streets, even with the police watching his every move?
XXXIII. HIRO
Hiro woke up with a sick feeling in her stomach, though whether or not it was from the anesthesia they’d put her under with or because she knew what she would see when she took the blanket off of her legs, she wasn’t so sure. Ichirou and her doctor were sitting in her room, just like they were when she woke up after being with the Archangel. She wasn’t entirely sure what the two of them were talking about, but she guessed that it had something to do with her.
She sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Ichirou and the doctor looked over at her.
“Please, tell me everything went alright, this time,” Hiro said.
“The surgery was a complete success,” the doctor confirmed, a proud smile on his face. “We were even able to get the new leg attached. You’ll be able to go home in a few hours, once we make sure that everything is functioning correctly.”
Hiro couldn’t help but be surprised. She’d be able to go home that soon? She’d expected to be at the hospital for at least a week after this surgery, considering its reputation.
“What might go wrong?” Hiro asked. After what went wrong with her leg last time… she just wanted to be prepared for it that time.
“Nothing life threatening,” the doctor assured her. “For some reason, when the body rejects a prosthetic, it will just stop working, with maybe a slight infection. We should know within an hour or two whether or not the leg will take.”
He handed her a simple, wooden cane as she adjusted herself. “You will have to walk with this for a week or so, just until you get used to walking on it.”
Hiro took the cane, biting her lip. She didn’t like the idea of walking with a cane: she didn’t want to feel any more like a cripple than she already did.
“Now, let’s try it” the doctor said as he sat down next to a concerned Ichirou. “Don’t be frustrated if you can’t quite control it: even with a leg as nice as yours, it’ll take time for it to calibrate to you and for you to get used to it.”
Hiro swallowed, nervous. It looked like the time had come for her to actually see the handiwork of the doctors and the man who made it.
She pulled the blanked away, bracing herself for what she might find.
She found herself staring at the leg for a few moments. The leg was very simple, but even though she didn’t actually know a thing about these things, she could tell that it was very nice. Two large, metal plates concealed the gears on the inside, protecting them, but they were hinged so she could get access to the gears beneath it in order to do maintenance. Soft coils wrapped around the leg in place of joints, allowing her to move it like she would an ordinary leg: she even had individual toes. The engraver’s mark was on the bottom of the foot. It was beautiful, yet pretty utilitarian, and she knew that she never would’ve been able to get anything this nice if it hadn’t been for Manfred II and Lady von Braun.
She had a feeling that this was also Ichirou’s first time seeing her leg: his jaw dropped when he saw it, shocked.
“H-how much did that cost?” he asked as Hiro swung her legs out from her hospital bed, preparing herself to try and walk with her mechanical leg for the first time.
“You don’t want to know,” the doctor said.
Hiro didn’t hear the next thing. She stood up, hoping that she wasn’t about to make a fool of herself.
Immediately, she began to wobble.
Shit!
Stay up, she ordered herself as she tried to stay upright, the gears in her leg whirring furiously as they tri
ed to calibrate to the stump that remained of her leg. Stay up, damn it!
Sadly, she couldn’t do it: she fell over, right into Ichirou’s arms. She didn’t even notice that he was standing there before it happened.
“Are you alright?” he asked as Hiro pulled herself up, trying to fight back the shame that was making her cheeks burn.
“I’m fine,” she murmured, looking down at her feet in embarrassment. It was a damned big lie, to say the least. No, she wasn’t alright: she’d just had her leg amputated, and her mechanical leg wasn’t working well enough for her to stand up without clinging to her brother. She felt pathetic.
She looked over at the doctor. “I don’t think my body’s accepting the new leg.”
“It sounds like it’s trying to work; if your body decided to reject it, it wouldn’t do anything,” the doctor said. “Just give it some time to calibrate, and it’ll be like you never had your leg amputated in the first place.”
Hiro didn’t believe him; she decided that as Ichirou set her back down on her cot. That was a lie, and they both knew it: things for her would never be the same, not when she had one real leg and one mechanical leg.
Before the doctor could give her any more false hope, a nurse poked her head into the room. “Doctor, Chief Berkowitz is here to see Inspector Ikeda.”
“Send him in,” Hiro said before the doctor could give permission. She appreciated the fact that he was just trying to help her figure out this thing with her leg, but… she just needed to get her mind off of it.
The nurse didn’t question it. She nodded and left to get Berkowitz.
“Hiro, are you sure that you want to get back to work so soon?” Ichirou asked. “I mean, I’m sure that your boss would be fine with giving you a few days off to recover-“
“It’s not about that,” Hiro promised. “If I don’t get back to work, soon, I’m going to go insane.”