June 6th, 1894

[timeforjustice]

It was a fine Wednesday afternoon, only the gathering heat of the day a blemish on what would've been a perfect day for the outdoors. There was hardly a breeze and not quite enough clouds for any relief from the sun, which is why one Deputy Apollo Justice was forced to don his hat as he trekked further and further from the city center. He would've taken more notice of the day had he not been in a hurry, and grumbling under his breath besides.

His bicycle had been stolen again. He'd had it chained up behind the sheriff's office, but some scoundrel had pried a link apart and taken the goods, leaving only the cheap chain there in the dust. Lucky for Apollo, there'd been a couple of witnesses; the only problem with that was his thief had covered his head and his face, making real identification a tough prospect.

Apollo used what he'd heard to follow the trail, so to speak. His path lead down to the river, not further into town but heading out of it, towards where crops were grown using the water diverted from it. There were less people out here to be questioning, so he kept his eyes peeled instead, looking for a flash of metal -

And when he found it, it was on a river bank, half-submerged and stuck in the mud. Muttering a curse, Apollo shoved his gloves on his hands before sliding the short way down the bank, his boots leaving tracks in the mud behind him.

"Damn! It'll start to rust at this rate..."

Comments

[temsikspirit]

"It surprises me that you haven't talked to him," Yomiel states rather plainly. "If anyone would know it'd be him. Guess I can see why not. Could be right awkward, bet he gets inquiries every day."

The smile on his face has grown from one of casual amusement to something more genuine. It's been a long time, too long, since he's had the pleasure of casual conversation that held mutual interest for more than a second. And here he'd just come over to tease the guy. He nods in acknowledgement: it was easy enough to narrow down 'the German one'.

"Oh right, his name escapes me but I am aware of him. Quiet guy, but he comes with a bit of a reputation. I'll bet you'll do well under him, Mr. Justice."

He pauses a second to wonder just what'll happen in the power-vacuum wake of Cabanela's inevitable death. Maybe that Gavin would take his place, far be it Yomiel's place to care at that point. He'll be long gone. The next question from Apollo manages to catch him off his guard somewhere along this line of thought, almost as if the other were somehow able to read his mind. It leads to an eerily unblinking stare for a moment before a quick, bemused laugh escapes him.

"You could say that! Well alright, it's long before your time there anyway. Back when the sheriff was still green he made a foolish choice to be threatenin' an innocent man with the gallows. Scared him, made him run. That Cabanela and Deputy Jowd--they killed him for it and his betrothed went and hung herself in grief."

Yomiel shakes his head, the portrait of a solemn expression.

"'Course nobody was gonna believe his innocence and who cares about a couple more deaths 'round here? Well, I did, on both counts. It's been 'round six years since and I reckon nobody remembers. Don't think I could properly forgive them for it is all. Anyway it's just another story--everyone's got stories and the only thing that makes them important are people around to care about them. Just a swan song of one bad deed among many, surely someone like you understands."

[timeforjustice]

"Uh, y'see... I've been too busy to seek 'em out! And there's no tellin' if his own mind would remember the events quite right, after all these years. ... Heh, but it's mighty nice that you think so. I'm hopin' I'll do well under him, too."

It was a flimsy excuse for not having visited Mr. Wright, but Apollo was thankfully saved from having to elaborate any further. As Yomiel launches into the tale, Apollo goes quiet, his mouth slowly pulling into a frown the longer he listens.

Though he didn't want to say it, that story of his seemed almost too tragic to believe. And Sheriff Cabanela? Killing an innocent man? That was downright unheard of. Cabanela had a record as spotless as new-fallen snow, having stuck to by-the-book so good that they say the Judge hadn't even so much as scolded him for a single thing. Apollo didn't know the man too well, but he'd heard nothing but good about him for a long time. Now, this stranger was claiming that there was something decidedly not-good lurking back in the Sheriff's history, and it was hard to know what to think.

"... You're not pullin' my leg, are you?" Apollo asks it slowly, watching him with a furrowed brow. "I sure never heard of such a thing. It was before my time, as you said, but ... a lady hangin' herself, that don't happen too often here. It's not supposed to happen." Sure, there was the occasional suicide like with everywhere, but it was an atrocious thing to consider. It got bad enough with the level of violence and death in the city, without folks up and offing themselves to add to it.

"And I don't think I can rightly agree with your opinion on stories. If what you said happened, that makes it history, not just some cautionary tale to forget about. ... This man you spoke of, what happened to make folks think he was so guilty?"

Call it his natural curiosity, but Apollo wanted to know more, wanted to know enough to judge if it could be a fib. Maybe no one would pay enough mind to a suicide to remember it six years later, but a good criminal would be a lot harder to forget. If he could hear it from more than one person, then that would be a sure sign that there was some kinda truth in it after all.