That had not gone according to plan.
Well, actually, Miles wasn't sure he'd even had a plan in the first place. If Wright had spilled the beans on some solid evidence, it wouldn't have been possible for Edgeworth to use it as a testimony without his permission. Miles supposed he would've had to use the information to aid himself as he gathered the related evidence on his own later. If he were to know exactly what he was after, it'd become infinitely easier to find the pieces of the puzzle. His actions had definitely not been pointless.
But now, Miles almost wanted to drop the case all together.
He'd unexpectedly found Phoenix somewhat appealing in a personal manner, and had forgot his original intentions fairly quickly. It was amazing, and terrible. Just now, the young artist had sent an email to Miles; asking when he'd be able to visit, and for permission to hang up a poster advertising his painting commissions if Miles had space for one on a notice board or something. He'd mindfully apologised if that were too pushy a request.
It was awfully quick, considering how they'd only met that evening and that it was fairly late at night, but Miles decided to reply; mentioning that Wright could visit a week on Sunday, and bringing a poster was perfectly fine. He did in fact have a notice board, but it was used for things to do with the law practice only. Phoenix was free to hang it up on a wall in reception though, as long as he didn't damage the paint with pins.
Edgeworth's workspace was generously lit by a desk lamp, and papers from his current case were messily scattered all over. It was an organised mess though, and it was relatively easy to clear some room for his laptop. A steaming hot herbal tea stood patiently on a coaster; and Pess was dosing on the floor in her bed, occasionally whimpering at whatever was going on inside her canine mind. Miles considered how favourable chasing cars currently seemed.
He sighed, exhausted, and leaned back in his chair. He could only accurately describe his current case as an utter disaster; testimonies were clashing, the prosecutor was especially ruthless, nobody was co-operating; and to make matters worse, he now apparently had unnecessary feelings for someone who didn't even know they were involved. It was unfamiliar and unorthodox. He didn't like it, and it was his own fault.
He considered asking his father or a colleague for advice, or maybe even help on the case. It wasn't even a murder. Besides, did such a person exist whom Miles could open up to about his foolish actions? He felt ashamed of himself, and he had yet to inform Phoenix on the truth as to why originally he met him there that evening. The gesture he thought Miles generously made meant a lot to him, he'd undoubtedly be very upset. Dread was stirring.
Perhaps not, then. Miles usually bore things alone anyway.
From what he'd found out so far, he had concluded that Dahlia was not a savoury individual. She was emotionally abusive, self-indulgent, and purposefully indirectly rude. She had seemed almost sickly sweet during the first trial, and only ever-so-slightly less sweet in person, but it was all a ruse. It had to be. Edgeworth was glad he trusted his gut. A person like Dahlia was very able to commit a crime; sherbet on the outside, tripe underneath. Despite considering himself as one not too interested in romance – at least, up until recently – Miles had always greatly disrespected those who cheated. Especially those who did it repeatedly. With multiple people.
The court didn't share this sentiment.
Edgeworth realised he was mos likely becoming negatively biased towards Dahlia especially, due to his new-found feelings for someone she'd let down. It was strange and conflicting, as Miles had let Nick down too. He hadn't really experienced many similar issues before, and suddenly felt a great amount of understanding for those who had. Witnesses would commonly mess up their testimonies as they tried to protect friends or family, it was something Edgeworth had grown used to; but he'd barely considered how they actually felt. It was hard to think about things clearly when an obstacle as dubious as emotions got in the way. This fresh comprehension would probably aid Miles' people skills. Maybe there was a way for him to both continue the case and develop an honest relationship with Phoenix. He wouldn't be seeing him for over a week, it was plenty of time to think of a peaceful way to come forward.
Determined, he sipped his tea, and began to scan through his notes on the case.
One of Dahlia's boyfriends, Shu Ghadadi, was a wealthy but reckless man who had been accused of attempting her murder. Dahlia had publicly confessed she was cheating on him with many other men. It wasn't uncommon for someone to plot the death of a partner who betrayed them, so the case seemed to be relatively simple.
Edgeworth, of course, was Ghadadi's unfortunate defence attorney.
The defendant appeared to be an unheeding and spontaneous person - he had a history of assault. Dahlia had apparently survived a deadly attack when she defended herself with a saucepan; and had come to the police, terrified. Shu had been deemed mentally unstable and was being held in the detention centre prison until a verdict was decided.
Edgeworth's involvement was near-pointless for a while, until he resolved to make use of his advantageous friendship with one of the detectives from the local precinct. Miles' excellent deductive reasoning abilities meant the police would often request his help with particularly tricky cases, and through this he'd met a detective named Dick Gumshoe. The man seemed fine with using his authority to help Edgeworth pursue the truth behind some cases with which they were both involved. The archives Gumshoe had access to may not have been the most secretive, but this did benefit Miles, as several members of the police force did not trust defence attorneys with anything too confidential.
After a few searches of their database, Gumshoe had the papers ready a few days after the first trial.
Miles was reading through some of those new documents when he'd discovered his only lead – that a girl named Melissa Foster was executed for the murder of Dahlia's step-sister, Valerie Hawthorne, years ago. It didn't seem like it was too relevant with the matter at hand, until Edgeworth saw that Melissa Foster had the exact same face as Dahlia.
Had she murdered her own step-sister? If so, did she fake her execution and escape somehow? Was that even be possible? It was all very, very suspicious. Either that person in the photo was Dahlia Hawthorne - which was almost unimaginable - or she had an extreme look-alike.
It turned out she did.
Six hours previous
"Ms Hawthorne," Edgeworth inquired, "I know this question is a little atypical, but do you have an identical twin sister?"
Dahlia considered the question for a few moments. Miles could hear her quiet exhalations through the phone. She was probably aware she was being recorded.
"Yes, actually," she said, somewhat surprised, "I did."
"Past tense?"
"She... died."
"What was her name?"
Hawthorne's voice started to flounder a little. "Why do you need to know this, Mister Edgeworth? I'm feeling a bit upset..."
"I am asking you in order to pursue the truth," Miles insisted. "I acknowledge that as Ghadadi's defence attorney, you do not trust me. If he is truly guilty, however, I will follow this case no further, and he can receive the verdict's punishment. I understand this would have repercussions for myself, but I'd rather not let a potential killer run free. My reputation surely suggests this. If what you've told the court is true, you have nothing to fear."
Hawthorne took a deep breath. "That was... pretty convincing. But you're a lawyer, you're a professional at being convincing."
"It's the truth," Miles assured.
"Mister Edgeworth, why do need to know about my personal life?"
Miles thought the answer to that was obvious, but he responded politely. "The backgrounds of the persons in question can affect their mindsets and outlooks. It is best I am as informed as possible in order to make a clear judgement. What was your twin's name?"
Dahlia hesitated. "Erm... Melissa Foster. We were raised by separate families, so her last name is the same as mine. She was born with my family name."
"I see. I will not pry any further now. However, I must ask if you are able to provide evidence of your twin, with say, a birth certificate, or...?"
"I'm able, yes."
"Is it possible for you to drop by my office this evening with it?"
"...Yes."
Edgeworth was sat at the receptionist's desk watching a show about a samurai on the computer as he waited.
He really needed closure in the form of evidence so he'd be able to decide what to do with the investigation. If no trace of a twin were to be found, great suspicion could end up surrounding Dahlia due to Valerie's murder. If a twin had existed, however, it'd be back to square one. He'd need to check the authenticity of those files.
Realising his mind had wondered, Miles irritatedly tried to find the part of the show he was at before he lost focus. He then heard who he assumed was Hawthorne lightly tap on the entrance; so he quickly paused it and abandoned the tab, despite the computer being purposefully placed so that no clients could see the screen.
"Come in!"
He watched Dahlia slip inside, shake her umbrella, then delicately close the door behind her.
"Hi!" she called as she saw him. "I have the documents here. It was pretty hard to keep them from getting wet, it's pouring it down out there. I'm glad you were still open!" She paused to show off her smile. When Edgeworth didn't seem to react, she carried on. "I brought Melissa's birth certificate, along with her death one. I've also got a photo of us together from the last time we met, but I guess it doesn't count for much because of what people can edit into pictures these days... Oh, and I couldn't find the certificate that proved her name had been changed, but her birth name and death name are different, so that should be proof of that. I hope it's enough!"
Miles blinked. "Ms Hawthorne... my goodness. I merely asked for her birth certificate. The death certificate and photo are a very thoughtful bonus. Thank you. Do you mind if I look a these?"
"Not at all!"
Miles took them to see that Dahlia's twin sister was born 'Iris Hawthorne'. The death certificate stated that seven years ago, Melissa Foster was hanged. Both documents irritatingly seemed genuine so far. In the photo, the identical girls had their arms around each-other, and were grinning at the camera; the background appearing to be some kind of screen door. Anyone who could add two and two would be able to conclude that Iris and Melissa were one and the same.
Dammit. All that suspicion and mystery was close to being gone.
"May I photocopy these?"
"Go ahead!" Dahlia closed her eyes cheerfully. She appeared so delighted that Miles wouldn't have been surprised if she knew exactly how difficult she was making things for him.
"Would you like some tea?" he asked out of courtesy.
"Yes, please. Milk and two sugars."
He nodded. "You can come through here with me whilst you wait if you wish."
Edgeworth took the files and led Dahlia into his workplace. It was an office room of sorts, with a large desk and adjacent office sofa. Miles had cleaned his desk earlier in preparation; so it was bare apart from a single folder, a pencil pot, a coaster and and a lamp which hung above everything. Shelves leaking with books and binders completely covered one wall. Pess' bed was on the floor in a corner, and in another was a small worktop with a sink, complete with a kettle and microwave on top of it. The photocopier stood tall nearby.
Miles pressed a few buttons on it, lifted the lid and began to scan, flicking the kettle on with his other hand.
Every notion he'd hypothesised seemed to arrive at a dead end. Was his case done for? Would he have to resign from it? His only suspicious lead turned out to be no lead at all. Maybe having an identical twin capable of murder meant Hawthorne was capable too...? No, they were raised differently. Did the death of her step-sister leave Dahlia mentally unstable? That was a possibility, Miles supposed.
Or maybe Dahlia was the actual culprit of Valerie's murder, and she'd framed her twin!
...No, that wasn't possible. According to the documents from Gumshoe, Mia Fey was involved in solving that case. She wouldn't have let that loose end go untied, it was too dramatic and interesting.
Miles saw that Dahlia had perched herself on the sofa, in a somewhat dainty pose. She really was the epitome of cuteness. She had large eyes, a tall forehead, sweet smile and petite figure. Everything one would find adorable. She always seemed to look a little worn out too, which would only fuel the maternal and paternal responses of those around her. However, this was all something Edgeworth had consciously acknowledged. He didn't feel it. It was very fortunate, considering how she'd managed to charm almost everyone else working on the case.
Trying to improve his understanding of how she handled herself, Miles decided to start a conversation.
"I apologise if this visit has inconvenienced you," he said as he prepared their mugs.
Dahlia giggled carelessly. "No no, it's all right! I was going to be in town this evening anyway."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, I had a date."
Miles paused and turned round. "Ms Hawthorne..."
"I know, I know," she admitted with a smile. "You don't think very highly of me, right? But... men. They're not genuine. So why should I be? There's nothing real going on, anyway. I haven't known any of them for very long... I seem to have trouble when it comes to relationships, actually. They all seem to end before things get serious."
Well, that was incredibly unexpected and shocking.
"I think I'm getting scared," she continued, "That I'll never find the one..."
Edgeworth did not make an attempt at being comforting.
Dahlia sighed. "Anyway, I honestly don't think I'm in any deep enough relationships for anyone to justifiably become angry with me for dating a couple of people at once... some guys just get upset and overreact. But that's okay! Everyone has bad days."
Her openly admitting to cheating did not aid Edgeworth in his case at all. It was Ghadadi's suspected motive for attacking her, and she was fuelling it. It was entirely possible she was doing that on purpose.
"I see," Miles acknowledged. "So, how was your date?"
"Oh, I didn't go."
"You called it off so you could come here?"
"Well, no, I didn't call it off. But I'm sure he'll realise I'm not coming and head home. It's at that fancy French place down the street. Evangeline, I think. You know, the one with the pretty purple curtains and the big display of lilies in the window? He lives pretty close to there, so it's no problem."
So she'd stood someone up? Excellent. Perfect. More justifacation for her being a terrible enough lover to provoke an assault.
"Ms Hawthorne, maybe you should go to meet him after this."
"No, not now. It's been, like, an hour since it should've started. Maybe more. The train journey is kind of long, so I was happy to take a later one in."
Miles started to feel responsible. "You've left this person alone in a restaurant for at least an hour?"
"Don't worry, he's probably gone home."
"...I see." He wanted to dig a little further, to test if Dahlia was actually being truthful. Miles knew he appeared as the type who didn't engage in conversation unless he needed to, which was true, but he went ahead anyway. "What's he like?" he asked.
"Well, to be honest, he's sort of whiny and needy."
That explained why she was happy to skip the date. "Then why are you seeing him?"
"B-because, well... I like him. His name is literally Phoenix, isn't that cool? And he's an artist! I just don't have the heart to let him go..." Her cheeks turned pink.
It was almost like Dahlia simply looked at people and thought 'I like that one, they're mine now.' How possessive did one have to be? How easy was it for her to charm them, if she could have anyone she wanted?
Photocopies finished, Miles handed her documents back. "The kettle is still going," he said. "Would you like to stay for tea, or...?"
"Oh, no, I should probably go. I'm really sorry! The weather's getting bad, I want to catch the earliest train I can. Make yourself a drink though! It'll keep you warm, it's pretty cold this evening!"
"I have central heating."
"...Yes. I'm off now, thank you!"
Miles showed her outside, then went back to his desk and began reading through the files again. He'd discovered nothing miraculous, nothing new or open. If he didn't do something, or find out anything important, he'd have to drop the case. His client was rather rich, he may have simply been a guilty man with a family wealthy enough to afford a top lawyer.
But Dahlia was so suspicious.
It was merely a feeling Miles had, which wasn't exactly something he could present in court, but it was there. It couldn't linger forever. It had to be satisfied. The next, final trial was a little over two months away, and Miles felt like that was both too much time and too little. At least Dahlia hadn't successfully been murdered, he thought. He'd have only had three days to build his case.
There were limited options. Hawthorne had almost undoubtedly been attacked; the hospital reported she had bruises from strangulation which she showed off during the first trial. Miles' hopes lay in proving that Ghadadi was not the culprit; or that his intentions were not murder; or that he had some other motive for what he did, such as self-defence. The latter didn't seem likely, especially due to the man admitting none of the above were true anyway. However, he appeared to still be madly obsessed with Dahlia – most likely due to the attack being a spur-of-the-moment thing - which meant she'd possibly convinced him to lie in court.
Miles sighed heavily as he realised he'd restored his desk back to its papery mess. His thoughts always became so scattered during cases; tangents leading away into other tangents, new theories forming constantly. His workspace reflected that quite well.
The current situation only disrupted things further. For what previously seemed like something so simple, Hawthorne and Ghadadi's case had turned into a nightmare. There had to be some kind of underlying drama occurring, it couldn't have been a coincidence Dahlia's stepsister had been murdered by her own twin. The motive for that murder had permanently remained a mystery, that wasn't normal.
Things were becoming desperate.
With no other leads, Edgeworth rolled up his shirt sleeves, adjusted his collar and vest neatly. He took his mac from its hook, grabbed his umbrella and left the practice. He walked through the darkening streets for a while, until he arrived at Evangeline. The sound of rainfall and the low murmurs from the restaurant became especially apparent when he stood still.
One hand manning the umbrella, the other in its pocket, Edgeworth examined the occupants of each table through the window, squinting awkwardly to get a good view past the droplets. They were almost all couples, apart from one group of three, and...
And one man who was alone.
Miles watched him.
He had his head in his hands, his fingers digging in to his jet black hair. Miles spotted an empty glass on the table. Nothing fancy, just one simple drinking glass. There was no bag hanging on the opposite chair. This was looking promising. That man had to be Phoenix. He was alone and stressed, he looked so tormented. He had every right to be agitated if he'd been waiting for over an hour-and-a-half.
Was it worth the risk?
Did Phoenix know Dahlia very well? She said she hadn't been with any of her boyfriends for long. Was that legitimate? Well, any information would provide some insight toward her true self, even if it were a little vague. But what if Phoenix had a violent personality? There was also a chance he was unwilling to talk about Hawthorne. Any information he did provide could be exaggerated or skewed due to his emotional distress. He may straight-up lie about her. Or he could relay to Dahlia what Miles was doing if he still placed trust in her for some reason. He might not even be the right guy.
Miles willed the man through the window to be none of the above and entered the restaurant.
