Professor Layton vs Phoenix Wright: The Frigid Melody

Prologue

To Professor Hershel Layton

You don't know me, but I can safely say that I know you pretty dang well by now. You're probably wondering how that's possible, but you'll have to read all the way to the end of this letter if you want to find out. Got it? Good. As for who I am... if you do as I say, you won't need to know. Now make sure you're paying attention, because there's a lot riding on this and I'm not about to repeat myself.

You see, Mr Layton, I have a friend. A very good friend who's helped me out of more than one tight spot, and I'd be lying if I didn't say I've done the same for him every now and then (not that the ungrateful jerk ever thanks me for it). I love him a lot and the last thing I want is to lose him, but I'm worried that if someone doesn't do something, that's going to happen and there's nothing I can do.

See, last I heard from him, he was headed up to Scotland. Wouldn't tell me why, just that it was too important for him to bring me or anyone else along and "let me cause yet more trouble" whatever that means. I've enclosed a map marked with the village he told me he was headed to and details on how it can be reached without risking driving like this idiot did. Be warned that the bus only goes up into the mountains every five days. Safety reasons, of course. The roads get pretty icy that far north.

You've probably caught on by now that I want you to find this guy. I did my homework on you, Professor, and I know what you've been up to during the past half-decade or so. You're one of the best investigators in Great Britain. Heck, maybe even one of the best in the world! Next to this friend of mine, of course. He's pretty fantastic too. I'm sure that you'll get to see that for yourself when you track him down and figure out what happened to him.

However, if you get it into your head that you don't need to worry about this – that someone else can solve this particular mystery while you sit in your office drinking tea and listening to opera music or whatever it is posh English people do – then allow me to provide a little bit of incentive.

Does the name Misthallery ring a bell? Or perhaps Monte d'Or or Froenborg? How about Ambrosia? I know you must remember St. Mystere, Folsense and a certain cavern unofficially dubbed Future London.

I'm a thief, Mr Layton, and what I steal is information. As such, I've stolen information about every single one of those locations and your quite frankly intimate involvement with them. Information that I know for a fact you would prefer to remain secret. I'm sure we both know exactly what would happen, Mr Layton, if somebody were to pass this information on to the press or, even worse, leak it onto the Internet. There's nothing social media loves more than a tasty little scandal and I have a feeling they would eat this up like hotcakes. How is little Ms Reinhold, by the way? Not having to deal with a creepy robot mother anymore, I hope.

So here's the sitch if you were just skimming up to now: find the man I've enclosed details on in this envelope if you don't want the entire world to find out what you've been up to and trying to keep secret, Mr Layton. You might call this blackmail, but if you haven't noticed by now, I don't really care about that. Even if my friend is dead, I want to know what happened to him. I don't want to think that such an awesome person just vanished off the face of the earth.

Track him down if you don't want your reputation trashed, okay?

Yours sincerely

The Great Thief Yatagarasu

O-o-O

"You know," he muttered under his breath, "you haven't exactly left me a great deal of choice."

There wasn't much left to do right now, so he cast another glance down at the card this so-called Great Thief had slipped into the envelope along with everything else: