Professor Layton vs Phoenix Wright: The Frigid Melody

The Frozen Court pt. 1

"Utterly disgraceful, I'm telling you!"

When he heard that statement, Phoenix froze on the stairs. He peered around the bend in the stairway and looked down into the tavern.

"And to think he hasn't even been here for an entire day!"

The cosy room he remembered from yesterday was now stuffed with as many people as it could fit between its walls and tables, all chattering and clamouring and struggling to be heard over each other. He stepped down slowly, cautiously, and hoped that nobody would notice him.

"You'd expect better from somebody who claims to have his experience, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, but you know those doctors and their handwriting, don't you?" For the first time, Phoenix noticed the innkeeper standing just beside the stairs, the handle of her spade just visible over her shoulder. "Never trust a man whose handwriting you can't read, that's what I say."

Phoenix gulped. Hopefully she would never get to see his handwriting.

He stepped off the final stair and drew up beside Jack, who he now noticed was clutching her spade as tightly against her chest as she could. No wonder, given the ridiculously noisy throng now plaguing her tavern.

"Uh..." Jeez, where did you even start with something like this? "Ms Hill?"

"Ah!" Jack jumped when she noticed him. "Good morning, Mr Wright. Sorry about all this."

"All this?" Phoenix said, hoping he didn't sound too dumbfounded. "What exactly is 'all this'?"

"I'd say it's just some gossip," Jack replied, "but given that one of our own got horribly sick, I'm afraid I can't say it's as simple as that."

"Sick?" said Phoenix. "What happened?"

"That newfangled doctor went and poisoned Wrenkley!" cried a nearby villager who had apparently been eavesdropping.

"Huh?" Phoenix suddenly felt a good deal more awake. "Poisoned?! "

"Here, you rode in on the same bus, didn't you?" Another villager pointed an accusing finger in Phoenix's face. "What the bloody hell did that doctor say to you, eh?!"

"He didn't say anything!" Phoenix took a reflexive step back. "I- hang on, I'll be right back."

He turned on his heel and ran back up the stairs, past the door still labelled DO NOT DISTURB and into the room he shared with his still-supine daughter.

After a glance back over his shoulder to check he wasn't followed, he knelt beside the bed and shook her shoulder.

"Trucy, get up," he said sharply.

"Huh?" Trucy groaned and blinked as she was dragged into consciousness. "What's happening?"

Phoenix glanced back again.

"I think Dr Wallace is being accused of malpractice," he told her.

"What?!" Trucy threw back her bedsheets, having slept fully clothed to protect herself from the cold, and snatched up the boots she had left beside the bed.

"I didn't hear much," Phoenix told her, "but the customers down in the tavern are saying he poisoned one of the citizens."

He passed her the cloak and hat she had left on their nightstand.

"Come with me," he said as she put them on. "I have a feeling I might be able to get more reliable information if these people have to be nice to a little kid."

"Does ten years old actually count as little though?" Trucy asked as she hopped off the bed.

"For now, if anyone asks, you're seven," Phoenix said. "Okay?"