[Personal Entry; Gabriele meeting VK]
Von Karma paced across his cell uneasily, cane clicking loudly in the silence. On his thin bed lay the laptop he had received, its recording device on. When he spoke, it was crisp and clear.
“Friday. Eleven-thirty PM.” He paced. Click, went his cane. “It is a particularly cold night tonight.” Click. “Today, prison personnel inquired if I would like the bullet in my shoulder properly removed. Appropriate, I suppose, for that is why I am speaking out loud right now. My shoulder aches too much to even attempt to type.” Click. “This log shall be brief. It is merely for the purpose of proposing the arguments of why I should not to look over once more sometime in the nearby future.”
The clicking of his cane stopped as he felt a chill pass over him, as it had been for the past week or so. The smell of peppermint wafted through the air. He wrinkled his nose-he always had hated the smell of peppermint. Gabriele, he remembered, was quite fond of them…
But that wasn’t the reason he disliked the smell. It hurt his sinuses. He made up his mind to inform the prison staff of that in the morning.
“I have lasted this long with this reminder of a split second of a weakness, therefore it seems useless for me to remove it now-“
He trailed off. He felt a warmth against his cheek, a breath across his ear, and if he looked hard enough, blue eyes-he went on, his voice noticeably shakier. “A-and if such measures are to be put forth, there is no reason for my bearing of so much pain. It is a good reminder of all that I have worked for these past…” He trailed off once more, and what he saw in the corner took his breath away. It was faint, but there he saw a woman, light hair curled in a loose bun at the nape of her neck, clad in a simple dress touching the ground and staring right at him.
“Gabriele?” His voice was low, husky, and his computer remained flickering.
He could smell peppermints.
“Manfred,” the woman said, moving closer and reaching a hand out.
“You’re dead,” von Karma said flatly.
She nodded. “I am,” she said softly. Von Karma did not fail to detect blood running from her shoulder.
“You’re still bleeding.”
“I am.”
When von Karma spoke again, he sounded carefully controlled, looked defeated. “Why are you here?”
“Do you need a reason?”
“You never came before.”
“You’re right.” She inclined her head. “I haven’t. And I came to…speak with you. Is that reason enough?”
He sat, heavily. “This is not the place where I wished for you to visit me.”
She walked towards him and the absence of the sound of her footsteps against the ground was more painful than looking at her face. “I could tell you the same thing, Manfred.” When he looked up, she was near him. “But here we are.” She walked around the cell. “You must be cold. You never liked the cold, Manfred.” She turned to face him. “Tell me-how are the children?”
“You have been watching over them yourself, have you not? You doubtlessly know why I am in here.”
She didn’t look him in the eye. “Tell me anyways.” When he didn’t answer, she persisted. “Please, Manfred.”
He sighed heavily and lowered his eyes. “They are well. Both of them. Franziska is pursuing her career with great zeal.”
“Is she happy?”
He shook his head. “I would not know. She has not come to me since I have been trapped in here. However, I do hope that is the case. Adele is also doing well. From what I have heard, her marriage is a good one, and she has a daughter.”
“And she is happy?”
“I have not heard from her either.”
Silence reigned for a moment before Gabriele questioned, “Is that all?”
Von Karma looked up. “Unless you have had an illegitimate child with another man, yes.”
Finally, she looked him in the eye. When she spoke, her voice was gentle, but her face intense. “I’m talking about Miles, Manfred.”
“Miles? Miles is not our child, Gabriele. You never even met the boy-“
“Tell me, Manfred, am I your wife?”
“Yes.”
“Did I bear both of your children?”
“Yes.”
Gabriele sat primly down on a chair that wasn’t in von Karma’s cell. He recognized it and its elaborate embroidery and the dark, clean wood it appeared to be made of. It was her favorite chair-he remembered that much. “Then he is as much of my child as he was yours, Manfred.”
“He was never my child.”
“He was your child the moment you killed Gregory Edgeworth.” She stood, voice shrill. “You took over all fatherly duties, therefore he is and was your child, whether you like it or not, Manfred von Karma.”
Von Karma stood, his cane clicking loudly against the floor. “So that’s why you came, Gabriele. Back from the dead for judgment. Is that all?”
“I did not come to judge you.”
“What, then?” Von Karma growled. “Tell me. If my own wife comes to tell me of my wrongs-pah. I’m full aware of them, Gabriele.”
When Gabriele did not answer, he looked down at the ground. “I was right in teaching my children that love was a foolish thing.”
“You still love.”
At that, von Karma laughed-the sound was mirthless, full of raw angles and sharp edges. “I do not love.”
“You do.”
“Von Karmas do not love.”
“Do not lie to me.” When she turned to look at him, her eyes were sharper then than they ever were in life. “You loved me then. And you love me still.”
“And how did you come to this conclusion? My going off to America the night after your death? My throwing away of your items? Tell me, Gabriele.”
“How?” She took a step towards him. “When I was gone, you persecuted my killer with such zeal as never before.” Another step. “You threw away all the peppermints in the house.” Another step. “You watched the girls sleep for hours.” Another step. “You escaped to America.” Another step. “You became overcome.” Another step. “Three days after I died, you shot Gregory Edgeworth.” Another step, and they were almost touching. “You never would have done that had your mind not been clouded.” Then, she was touching him. “And you wept, Manfred. Do not pretend that you didn’t.”
He shivered. “Then you, Gabriele. Did you love me, or have you come solely for the sake of the son you never met?”
“Don’t be foolish,” she said quietly, retracting her hand. “Of course I love you. Loved you.” She sighed. “Love you.”
“Then I am perfect.” Even without seeing his face, the hysterical nature of von Karma’s words was clear.
“You are not perfect.”
“But you love me.”
“I do.”
“And you’re perfect, so for you to love me, you must be-“
“I am not perfect. Nobody is. Nothing is.” She looked up at him. “And it’s high time you learn that.” When he answered with silence, she persisted. “Your upbringing wasn’t a happy one. You mustn’t-“
“Childhood?” Von Karma’s voice was a cross between sardonic mirth and sorrow. “That justifies nothing.”
“You’re right,” Gabriele responded. “For every sin, every piece of forged evidence and innocent man you’ve put to death…nothing can justify that. That is why you’re here.”
“Here. Here! Rotting with petty thieves, con artists…This is where you think I belong?” Von Karma stood with more force than he thought possible. “Hah. Give me the noose. That is no more than what I deserve.”
“Don’t say such things, Manfred. You have to live.”
“Why?”
“You have children.” She bit her lip and averted her eyes.
“They do not need me. They have grown.”
“They need you.”
He shook his head. “No. None do.” He sunk back into his seat. “Tell me, Gabriele…when I die, shall I join you?”
Gabriele’s voice was quiet. “I cannot lie to you.”
“Then tell me the truth.”
“No,” she said. “No. You will not-from what has been happening now.”
Von Karma inhaled, deeply. “What kind of heaven is that? If you love me and want me with you, yet I cannot go…”
“Not even the holy place is perfect.”
“And I shall not gain reprieve even in death. Fitting.” He tilted his head back.
“It is your turn to tell me something, Manfred.” Her gaze was steady. “How did it happen?”
Von Karma sighed. “How did what happen?”
“You. Becoming a murderer. Tell me about killing Gregory Edgeworth.” She shook her head. “You have never been a holy man, but I never knew you as a brutal one.”
Von Karma looked down. “It was simple. After the earthquake, I approached the elevator, I was shot, and in a fit of foolishness, I shot him back.”
“Why?” She looked down. “That is all I want to know.”
Von Karma mulled this over, cradling his cane in his lap before he spoke shortly. “I was angry.” He looked up, trying to see the glint of judgment in his wife’s eyes-he saw none.
“But,” she said softly, and her voice sounded so sad that it was all von Karma could do to not avert his eyes. “Was it for a penalty? For being shot? Or for my death?” She shook her head. “Manfred, you are misled, but not cruel. I cannot believe that you would shoot a man for such a reason.”
“I did.”
She shook her head. “You did not. You didn’t mean to, correct?”
“Gabriele, how many times must I tell you? You doubtlessly watched. You know the reason.”
She nodded. “I know. You did not expect yourself to shoot him-do not deny it. You always have a plan, Manfred, I know that much. And after you shot him, you weren’t prepared.”
“And how did you come to that conclusion?”
“I watched you afterwards. You were panicking, Manfred-standing over the sink, calling somebody to look after the kids. You didn’t even think of tossing your bloodstained clothes away. You spent an hour trying to wash the blood away. And the next pacing around the room, agonizing over whether or not you should hand yourself in. Did you not?”
“Blood.” Von Karma closed his eyes. “And there was so much of it. If I inhale now, I can still smell it.”
“He was a good man, Manfred. He had a good grasp of right and wrong. He was doing his job. And he was a father.”
“Good? Good doesn’t let you survive. Good kills you. I cared nothing for the lives of--“
“Then why would you take Miles in?”
“To raise him to become a prosecutor-“
“He had nobody to take care of him in his will. You planned later and took him in first.” She placed a hand on his. Von Karma couldn’t feel it.
“Perhaps.” Von Karma sighed, a long, shuddery sound. “But you know the end.”
“And nothing can justify that. But I do not believe that you’re a demon.” She sighed, and changed the subject. “He has grown well, Manfred.”
“Who?”
“Miles. He has grown into a fine man. Smart. Handsome. And despite what you had taught him, he’s moral.” Von Karma was silent. “You should be proud. Despite everything, he’s…doing well. I believe. As well as any can, considering.” Still, von Karma was silent. “He has redeemed himself.”
Von Karma laughed, hollowly. “Redemption is for priests and fools.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, of course you can redeem yourself. You can as long as you’re alive-“
“It’s too late for redemption, Gabriele. That is why this bullet wound still plagues me. That is why I’m in here.”
“It’s not too late.”
He sighed. “Then what do you suggest I do, trapped in here?”
“I suggest you meet with your children. Meet with Miles. Right your wrongs. Try to better his life-try to better Franziska’s-try to better yours.”
“And what would make you think that he would see me?”
She paused, and looked down. “I don’t know. I would not meet with you if I were him.”
“And nor would I.”
“But you can try.” She got up and strode to the computer. “You are still alive-“
“Alive? You call this alive? No…No, I am not alive..”
“Then while you wait for death, reach out to him. Explain yourself to him. Tell him what you and I both knew of Gregory Edgeworth. Tell him what you know of yourself.”
“I do not know myself, Gabriele,” von Karma replied softly.
“Then tell him what you do. You’ve spent fifteen years on him, Manfred. You can spare a moment to speak with him.”
“I would not know what to say.”
“You’ll figure it out.” Her hand hovered above the ‘enter’ button on the keyboard.
“Don’t push that, Gabriele. What are you doing?”
She turned to him. “If you won’t let him know yourself, then I must tell him myself.”
“Let him know what?”
“The world thinks you’re a demon, Manfred.” As quiet as her voice was, the intensity was strong. “And you’re not. You’re not, and I intend to show them this.”
“Not a demon?” He questioned. “Then how to explain how I can kill? How I can sin?”
She turned to him, conflicting emotions on her face. “After prosecuting so many trials, I thought that you’d know that by now… It’s because you’re human.” She pushed the button.
Manfred did not move.