July 29, 10:11pm
He was shaken and sore, but not actually hurt, and after another minute he got out of the car. The door still opened. Which was good.
But he was by himself. Which wasn't.
Which really really really wasn't oh my god. He hurled himself around the other side of the vehicle, looking for a figure lying in the road, which would not make sense because how does someone get flung out the passenger door if the rear driver's side is what hit something, and there's no body in the road, and no dog either except where IS he?
"MILES?!"
There was no answer.
"MILES?! WHERE ARE YOU?"
He nearly jumped out of his skin when something dark sailed past and bounced off the asphalt about a foot from where he was standing.
It was a dress shoe. What the hell? "MILES?!"
"Here, Wright, for God's sake, stop scaring him." He turned towards the voice, the same direction the airborne shoe had come from, and finally saw the man in the red suit on one knee in the entrance of a papered-over storefront. He hadn't been shouting; he'd just made his voice carry, the way Phoenix knew perfectly well how to do when he wasn't confused and terrified. "Would you please get the keys out of the ignition and open the trunk, and get the length of clothesline out of it?"
I can follow instructions.
He did all of those things and stood vacantly next to the open trunk for a second, until Edgeworth said, still calmly and politely, "Thank you. Now could you bring that over here, not too quickly?"
Not too quickly?
He complied, and the first wisps of logic came back into his thought processes when he saw that Miles had the dog.
Dog. Very generic dog. Light brown, black on top. Large ears. Phoenix stayed quiet and placed the nylon cord into the hand that reached back for it. Edgeworth murmured something reassuring, scratched the animal's ruff, then looped the clothesline loosely around its neck and tied a knot too quickly for it to cotton on to what had just happened.
"There we are. Is this so terrible?" This seemed to be a pretty phlegmatic dog, because all it did was twitch one ear and take a couple of sideways steps with its back legs. "Well, it's off to the night vet, I suppose."
"Edgeworth, um - what?"
"Keys?"
He handed them over, but. "The car is-"
"The car should be at least drivable." And the COMPLETELY CONFUSING man led the dog back across the street, opened the rear door that wasn't currently part of a mailbox, and said, "Up, Pescador." The dog knew that dogs love cars, and just got in, and the prosecutor firmly shut both the passenger-side doors and the trunk. "I'll take you home first."
Phoenix tried again. "Pescador?"
Edgeworth pointed to the little church from whose side alley the dog had bolted. Its painted sign said, first in English and then in Spanish,
Los Angeles Church of the Fishers of Men
Welcome!
¡Bienvenidos!
Iglesia de los Pescadores de Hombres de Los Angeles
There was also a little box with a slot in the top fixed to the wall. Edgeworth seemed to think about it for a minute, then opened his wallet for a fifty-dollar bill and walked over and slid it inside.
"I didn't think you were religious."
"We didn't hit him. You're all right." And with that Edgeworth seemed content to go, getting in the driver's door, but Phoenix held back, pulling a five out of his much shabbier wallet, pushing it into the box, and glancing at the dark roof over the entryway. Sorry. Thanks.
The car was back in the street completely and facing almost the right direction when he let himself into the passenger seat. Edgeworth looked over at him in a weirdly philosophical way, almost relaxed, and Phoenix was so busy noticing that that he sat on Kristoph's book.
July 29, 10:57pm
When he got back to the agency, clumping gracelessly up the darkened stairs and having more trouble with the lock than usual, he found Apollo and Trucy sitting altogether too patiently in the front room. She was bent over what looked like a wire sculpture, and he was holding a folded-over court transcript and biting his lower lip.
"If your boyfriend is hiding behind the coatrack or Vera is under the table, have the decency to tell me now."
They looked innocent.
He faced nothing in particular and bellowed. "Vera? KLAVIER? Anybody else? Olly olly oxen free! I'm not in the mood for surprises!"
Trucy flushed. "Shut up, Daddy, there's nobody."
"Great. Good." He wasn't too sure what he was going to say, actually, but he didn't feel comfortable being lurked for, and his nerves were buzzing.
"So how did that go?" Not that tact was one of Trucy's specialties.
"The car is going to be spending some serious time in the shop, Miles has a new dog, and someone at the candy factory must have made a little mistake, Apollo, because instead of hazelnut truffles, I got THIS." He frisbeed the book at the couch in a flutter of pages.
Polly wasn't intimidated. "Be careful. We had to take his office apart to find that."
Trucy draped herself over the back of the couch. "So what's he gonna name the dog? And can I walk it? I'd be a great dog walker."
He had the oppressive feeling that people were four steps ahead of him in several different directions.
July 30, 9:56am
The next morning, he called Maya. At least she did carry a cell everywhere with her now; connectivity up there was much better than it had been, and the days of calling the pay phone in the road and just hoping someone would answer it (and then get word to the person you actually wanted) were over.
"Good morning!"
"You would say that."
"Hi, Nick! And it is. It is a beautiful morning, as a matter of fact."
"How would you feel about missing it?"
"Say what?"
"Want to jump on a bus and come down for a visit? Burgers? The big city?"
"Mm, I DO, but let's do this properly if we're going to do it. Give me a couple days to get things in order up here and I'll bring Pearl down with me. And then maybe Trucy can come back up with us for a little? School's still out, yeah?"
"Yeah. And I like your idea of bringing Pearl. Truce should spend more time with people her own age."
"Doesn't she have school friends?"
"She does. But right now her predominant social circle involves three people in their twenties...and even though I can't criticize any of them without sounding like just her mean old dad, it IS strange."
"One of them is Apollo?"
"Of course."
"Wait, do they know?"
"It's a point of contention. Lamiroir prefers not to tell them yet."
"She'll have to eventually-"
"- but I can't just preempt her, even if it's tempting."
"One hundred percent what I was gonna say. But still, that was a tangent. If one of them's Apollo, who are the others?"
"Three guesses. You won't even need three."
"So long as they're not people I've never heard of and you say, 'Duh, FERNANDO!' like it should have been totally obvious and I don't even know there was a Fernando."
"Wait, I never introduced you to him?"
"Shut up, you're not funny and I hate you."
"Ha. No, I promise, you've heard of them."
She didn't say anything for quite a few seconds, but the nameless noises that made it through the line helped him picture her leaning against a wall, tapping her chin with one finger of the hand holding the pink phone, its strap swinging.
"Vera Misham."
"Very good. How'd you know?"
"She looked sweet and all by herself and young for her age."
"I think you've hit upon a theme with that last one."
"Oh, now you just gave it away! Ruin my fun! Prosecutor Gavin."
"None other. He's WITH Apollo, for your information."
"Ooh. That's a sexy image."
"MAYA!" She was laughing loudly, and he pulled the receiver away from his ear for a moment.
"Gotcha. Hey, don't be too jealous, okay?"
"Envious."
"Whatever. You know what I mean."
He was feeling a little spacy as he wound up the call with Maya - she had that effect - but wasn't given any time at all to indulge that condition. Instead, Apollo appeared a few inches from his face as he spun his chair around.
"Gah! Don't do that, Polly."
"Up. Come on."
"Where are we going?"
"The DMV. You're taking your driving test today."
"I AM CERTAINLY NOT! Are you kidding? I wrecked Edgeworth's car yesterday!"
Oh, right, I wrecked Edgeworth's car yesterday. I'd forgotten about that for fifteen minutes. That's marvelous.
"That's WHY you're going today. I heard all about what happened to it. I have spies everywhere."
"More than one? Really? I'll tell Klavier. I bet he'd throw things and cry. And write a really CATCHY song about you."
"Shut up, sir."
"No, Polly, seriously, that was a hell of a nervous shock. And I'm still short on practice hours."
"You know that rule is only absolute for teenagers, right? All you'll have to do is sign a form saying you're the head of your own household and that you qualify for an exemption under hardship conditions. It's not like you have a proper income yet."
"But I thought it would be...you know, a good idea to do it right..."
"Since when do you care about dotting the i's? No, Mr. Edgeworth said you really should go today before you had a chance to get too nervous about driving after all."
"And what am I supposed to drive?"
"Sandra. But wearing the camera hat. If you're less than a perfect gentleman with her, I promise, the world will know."
He tried one more thing. "Maybe they won't let me take the driving test in a hat."
"They didn't mind my hair. Up. Time is money."
"Mine's not."
"Mine is. And Trucy knows where you keep your checkbook."
"Justice, you have a cold and rocky soul."
"It's tough love. Maybe in a few years I'll let you drink and vote."
When he passed the test, he embarrassed himself by hugging the woman with the clipboard who'd administered it. Maybe it was an omen. According to the ID she had on a lanyard around her neck, her name was Sandy - but in case he was wrong about what it was short for, he didn't ask.
August 10, 10:35am
He still didn't have his real license to show Maya when she arrived, since nothing could make the physical card with his picture come in the mail any faster, but he did have the provisional piece of paper they'd given him, and when he met Maya and Pearl at Union Station, with Trucy bouncing around him in excited semicircles, he had it in his pocket.
The two girls hugged, but Pearl drew back a little bit when Trucy informed here they were going to Little Tokyo for lunch with Apollo et al., who were outside circling the overfull parking lot in Sandra. Maya was renting a car at the station. It had been a squished ride over.
"We just came from Kurain, you know." Pearl had always been subject to weird moments of jealousy, and this looked like one. Despite the bordering-on-elegance of her appearance, her hands were balled up. "Are we really going there?"
"Pearl, you know you're not telling me you don't like ramune and lunch sets and people-watching and plastic toys. Don't be silly." And Trucy hauled her off by one hand.
Once they were out of earshot (though not out of sight; Phoenix wouldn't feel right leaving the girls until they were safely in the little black car) Maya said, "Hey, Nick."
"Hey yourself."
"Pearls seems a little unhappy."
"She'd be the same way with Trucy's school friends, I think. It bothers her sometimes that Truce HAS other friends - but of course what's really bothering her is that she misses Truce and she feels like she lives at the back of beyond. She'll need to learn."
"Learn what?"
"Oh, that their friendship isn't so fragile. And that thing about accepting what you cannot change and changing what you can."
"And knowing the difference. A wise Irish refrigerator magnet once taught me that."
"I must have met the same one. Good to see you, bum."
"It's good to see you, Maya."
Standing outside the doors, they watched the two girls pile into the long-suffering compact, then went back inside. Maya scanned the signs, looking for the rental counter, then strode briskly off along the slick floor of one of the hallways. He had to jump to catch up.
The rental agent had clearly never dealt with anyone quite like her, but seemed more entertained than disconcerted, and she ended up with a big smile and a discount.
Out in the lot, she located the glossy electric blue vehicle they'd been assigned and dangled the key fob under his nose. "Vroom!"
"It's perfect for you. I've never seen a rental car with a spoiler before."
"Says the man with a spoiler for hair. Anyway, you're driving it."
"I hadn't told you I passed yet!"
"So that IS a provisional license sticking out of your pocket!"
"I'm still happy to see you..."
"Oh, please. Don't drop that, you'll be so sad if you do. And you may not have told me, but Trucy did text Pearl in a burst of filial pride. Secret's out. Burgers, James!"
"Does your rental agreement cover a secondary driver who's had his license for less than two weeks?"
"Don't worry your spiky little head over the details. I'll tell you what. You drive, and I'll buy my own burgers today."
Which she had never, EVER done. He blinked, and the world was a different place.
"You're on. But we're taking surface streets, so I hope you're not too hungry."
"Where are you taking me?"
"Orange County."
August 10, 12:03pm
The bright blue car was more fun than he wanted to admit. It may have been a tub toy compared to Edgeworth's regatta yacht (or Gumshoe's freighter) but it was noisy and immature and GREAT.
After he pulled into the tiny parking lot in Costa Mesa and parked, Maya tapped him on the forehead. "No, you're not buying one."
"But."
"It costs MUCH too much and it's made out of enamel and kite string. But I thought you'd enjoy it for a weekend. I even made sure it was a blue one."
"I can never tell if you're ruthlessly sensible or reckless and insane, Maya, but I love you."
"I know." And she gave him a meaningful look and preceded him into the place.
As he had known she would, she fell head over heels for it instantly. The walls were plastered with skate stickers and the ceiling, not to be outdone, was covered with the colorful cardboard sleeves of old surf records. The painted menu hung on the wall above the grill and behind the counter. Seeing all this, she literally clasped her hands under her chin and sparkled.
"You ready to order?" The girl behind the counter didn't know what to make of the Master of Kurain either.
"As soon as she's done being transported with joy."
"Nick!" At first he thought she was indignant, but her voice became a plaint. "I forgot my wrap in the car! Would you get it? Please?"
"You have to be kidding. It's daytime. In August."
"You should already know that digestion reduces blood flow to the extremities! I'm just being prepared. Please?"
He went, and when he came back she was happily slumped in the corner booth, drinking out of a paper cup with a straw. A bottle of ketchup sat on the table. "I took the opportunity to order the first round. And pay for it, before you ask."
"Thanks." They chitchatted for a few minutes, over and around the sounds of the grill and the other customers and the fútbol broadcast on the television mounted in a corner.
"So Pearl said Trucy said she's been teaching her twenty-year-old friends magic tricks."
He laughed and coughed around a mouthful of cola. "Well, she's been TRYING to."
"Huh?"
"They're AWFUL is the problem. I thought at first that maybe, given a few years, she might get one halfway decent birthday party magician out of the three of them combined. But that was irrational optimism talking."
"Really?"
"Cross my heart. I wouldn't have thought you could start with two artists and one Gramarye and end up with so much fail, but happily I was wrong. They drop things, they break things, they get things stuck in their sleeves and make panicky expressions.
"Actually, it's glorious. Next time you're in a funk, just get on the next train and call ahead so Trucy can organize a performance."
"That's not very nice of you, but I might have to take you up on it anyway."
"Two veggie burgers." The girl in the black t-shirt appeared with a pair of plastic trays bearing paper plates.
"Thank you!" Maya beamed.
"VEGGIE BURGERS?" Without a backward glance, the girl returned to the safety of the other side of the counter.
"Correct!"
"Maya Fey, why are we eating veggie burgers?"
"We did say back in February that you should eat more vegetables."
"We did?"
"Me and Pearl and Trucy. You ARE still trying to live up to Larry's challenge, right?" And suddenly the conversation didn't feel entirely playful.
"I did take the bar."
"You did. So we'll call that one down and one presumptive, incoming. Congratulations on getting your license, by the way. Cheers!"
"Thanks. Nice to be congratulated by someone who doesn't smirk at the same time."
They tapped paper cups, and she excused herself for a moment to go refill them at the soda machine. He stared at the surface of the table between his hands. Then, because that didn't do anything for his mood, he started in on his veggie burger. At least it wasn't bad, though it wasn't what he'd been envisioning.
"So what's your third one going to be? I think you're out of time for the marathon, too."
"Learning to figure skate."
"You know, I'd accept that if I actually thought you were serious. But I know you're not."
"I don't know. At least I'm tied with Miles."
"Oh! He told you about-"
"That he's in therapy, yeah. And he just got a dog." According to Apollo, the brown and black animal was now the entire office's best and forever friend. But he was only Pescador to the people who spoke Spanish – "Pess" otherwise. Edgeworth had agreed to tolerate that in lieu of "Fishy," which was out of the question.
Maya was looking at him funny. "Nick, you have this terrible habit of interrupting people. I wasn't going to say anything about therapy. It's cool that he has a dog, though! What kind?"
"About like that mental image you get when someone says 'dog' and that's all you know. Medium-sized. Cute ears, though." Until he got to the ears, her expression had conveyed that this description was woefully inadequate. "So what were you going to say?"
"Well, I guess you're not tied after all. He came up to Kurain, did you know that?"
Phoenix's stomach flip-flopped. "No...I didn't."
"He did, though. He finally talked to his dad." She mistook the silence she received in response. "The real one, I mean. Gregory."
He cut her off, an unintentional rise in volume coming into his words. "Yeah, I know."
"You just said you didn't-"
"I knew who you MEANT. Is all."
"Seriously, you're terrible about interrupting. And RELAX a little, would you?"
It was unreasonably difficult to do that. Miles had seen his dad. Miles had done his three things.
He couldn't shake the idea that if Miles finished his list, then he might be leaving again.
"Earth to Nick. Eat up. I ordered the second round when I got more drinks. Genuine beef this time. And cheese. All those good things."
He smiled a little despite himself. "Wait 'til you taste them."
August 10, 1:09pm
It wasn't until they were absolutely stuffed and back in the car, moving slowly, that Maya brought up the subject again.
"So Nick...about Edgeworth. I keep waiting for you guys to work things out. And you keep, um, not. I guess I have to ask - am I wrong? Do you, like, not want to?"
"If you're so psychic, why are you asking?"
"Manners, for one." She looked at him expectantly, and when he looked back at her after a minute and a half of silence, while they were paused at a stop sign, she was still looking at him expectantly.
He sighed. "The same night he found the dog I smashed up his car. And THAT happened because I was distracted because I'd just found out that he went to see Kristoph Gavin the night of my disbarment. I still don't know why."
He heard fabric rustling and a sigh louder than his own, and a tack sound that might have been her fingernails against the dash. "Nick, I'm not going to tell you what happened in that meeting. He needs to tell you, and you need to listen. But honestly, don't you already know why he was there?"
"I just said I didn't!"
"Dummy!" The childishness of the insult took some of the sting out of it - he couldn't imagine anyone else he knew not going for a stronger word - but it was still a shock.
"Maya, what..."
"This is still Edgeworth! The man who chartered a plane from Europe when he thought your life was in danger! And who pretended to be a defense attorney to keep your case from falling apart!"
"I know..."
"And you still don't get it? He went over there to get you your badge back! To save you! Dummy!"
"Well, I don't think it worked."
"That is one late lightbulb, Mr. Legal Genius."
He swallowed hard and paid better attention to the road.
August 14, 4:43pm
Franziska actually had quite a few shining virtues, and quite a magnificent array of skills, but conveying difficult information gently was nowhere on either list. Though of course he knew not to expect it of her. So it wasn't quite the jolt to the system it might have been when he heard the click of lacquered heels come out of her office and towards his own, and she appeared in his doorway and said, "I hope, after all these years, that you do not have some foolish attachment to the Festung that I have not been informed of."
With that she closed the door and came over to stand in front of his desk. The Fortress had been their adolescent term for the von Karma manor in Germany. The place was massive, dark, out-of-date, and as charming as a power plant without being a fraction so useful.
"No. Of course not."
"That eases my mind."
He poured tea for both of them and set the second cup in front of the other chair, still just-off-opposite his own across the desk, the way Ema Skye had left it after briefing him on the smuggled drugs that had turned up in Los Angeles a few days ago in a shipment of women's coats. (Ema had grinned inappropriately several times during the discussion, but he'd been rather gratified to see it.)
"It's gone." She sat down abruptly.
"Don't tell me it caught fire? I would have thought it was too dank to burn."
"No. Don't be foolish. I doubt the incendiary exists that could heat the place anywhere near enough to result in genuine flames." Her smile was quick and tilted and sharp.
"So what has become of it?"
"It has been sold." She raised a gloved finger, as if to forestall an interruption. "Certain lingering business of Papa's necessitated it. The proceeds have been earmarked for such, less the portion that has already been distributed."
He tilted his teacup and watched the leaves at the bottom bobble slightly in the liquid. It was always awkward to hear Franziska refer to Manfred as Papa.
"But what business does he have left, after so many years?"
"Nothing that oughtn't to have been cleared up long ago." There was a clink from the dog bed in the corner, where Pescador had apparently picked up on the break in her voice. After a reassuring circuit of Miles' chair, he came around to Franziska and nosed her knee. She looked down at him and scratched expertly behind his ears. "Hm. Though I suppose the delay worked in someone's favor."
"Franziska, I know you were designated Manfred's sole heir." She didn't say anything. "You're perfectly within your rights to handle the property as you see fit, but you could have asked me for help with any bureaucratic bother. You've been occupied enough with your secretive business with Detective Gumshoe, not to mention your professional responsibilities." Again she said nothing. "Unless, of course, this was actually part and parcel of your business with Gumshoe?"
She looked at her hands, which meant yes. "Franziska, what is this? What does Scruffy have to do with Manfred? And who is the girl?"
"Little brother, I am so very close to being able to tell you properly. And you were heard to say you trusted me. Do not make me regret my efforts."
"You weren't forced to come in to tell me the house was gone."
"I suppose not. But it seemed better to give that its own conversation. In case it upset you."
"Little sister...that's atypically compassionate of you."
"You have no idea."
The oblique, softened look she had over the rim of the teacup was not one he knew on her. And so he didn't have an idea. But so long as she was here, he had something else to say.
"I need to speak to Adrian."
That surprised her. "Do you. Why?"
"To thank her. And to apologize."
She watched him very closely. "What for?"
"The thanks are for looking after you. It's evident that she has. And the apology...the apology is for - is for. Seeing Dr. Crow has clarified my thinking on many subjects. Including mental health itself. And I understand now that when I made use of her past - I was behaving grotesquely."
"Miles Edgeworth, there is hope for you."
"Treat her well. At the very least, it may improve the odds of her forgiving me."
August 19, 5:10pm
It was late in the day for a surprise visitor, at least for one who wasn't a coworker of some kind. Organized people made appointments, frantic ones showed up first thing in the morning, and friendly ones showed up during the lunch hour.
"Are you busy?"
And disbarred attorneys carrying dog biscuits generally didn't show up at all.
"Can I come in? At least to ask about your car?"
Edgeworth spared a glance up the row at his fellow prosecutors' doors. They were all closed. Suspiciously so. And another look over Wright's shoulder revealed that the bullpen was only sparsely occupied, and only by people who seemed preoccupied.
"By all means." He shut the door behind them, though the stillness in the air afterwards almost made him regret it.
"Hello, Pescador." It was hard to tell if the dog recognized Wright or was simply friendly, but he was a good ambassador, wagging his way over to the door and pricking up his ears. And the treats cemented the bargain.
"For heaven's sake, Wright, what kind of dog snacks are these? Filet mignon? He'll be eating better than either of us."
"I bought them at a silly fancy dog store. At a price I refuse to divulge, except to say that I'm very relieved that he likes them and that Trucy is likely to earn herself a college scholarship when the time comes."
"And why are you bribing my dog in the first place?"
"I'm bribing you."
"With dog treats? I'm almost insulted."
"And here I was trying to appeal to your sentimental side."
As though you need to make a particular effort to do that. He'd been over with the tea things while Wright played with Pess, and the saucer he placed in front of the blue-eyed man held not just a cup, but several of the Belgian chocolates.
"What's this?"
"I saved you half of mine, after what your box turned out to contain. Speaking of bribes."
"Maybe I got the better box after all." Their eyes met. "Miles? Would you, just...finally tell me about the meeting you had with Kristoph? Please? I can't crash the desk. I'm not even in the driver's seat."
"Even so I wouldn't put it past you somehow. But...yes. Though I would appreciate it if you were to put the lock on the door. I would prefer not to be interrupted." Wright got up to do that. The various items on the desk looked small and irrelevant. They all had their particular jobs, none of which had anything to do with this. They weren't going to help.
Wright would like this metaphor. What happens when you use your ace in the hole and it doesn't work? What if, afterwards, all you have is a hole?
Actually, he would know precisely what that's like. Wright came back.
"So...let's hear it." Not unfriendly, but not necessarily trusting either.
"Wright...he hated you."
"...I HAD already figured that out, you know."
"You didn't know it then."
"And you did?"
"I knew he was playing at something. Not at what." He sighed before continuing. "But you know there were people on that board who should have been more sympathetic to your situation than he was. It made no sense that he was the only vote in your favor."
"To get me to think of him as my ally in a hostile world, obviously."
"Yes, Wright, but not just that. I'm not flattering myself now, please understand, I'm explaining. He already knew what I thought of him. He knew I had a history of trying to, well, swoop in with guns blazing to save the day."
"Miles, what an image."
"Well, yes, I know. Not to mention that it didn't tend to go as planned."
"Still. Credit for nice thoughts, I suppose."
"Don't patronize me."
"Then get on with it."
"His not only being your only supporter, but allowing that fact to be known, were as good as phoning me to arrange a meeting. As good as signing his name in honey on the whole awful mess. I couldn't not go. So I went."
"Hoping to accomplish what?"
"To prove his complicity. To get you reinstated. For what little it turned out to be worth, I DID have a plan better than just knocking out a few of his teeth and calling him names."
"Though that's an image I like better."
"I was recording him."
"Then what - My GOD, Miles, where is the RECORDING?" He keeps using my name.
"That's for the end. But I haven't been holding it back, if that's what you're asking."
Wright sat back down, the lightning fading from his eyes. "Sorry. I suppose you wouldn't. Anyway."
"He acknowledged that the Bar Association was his to manipulate in situations like this one. And told me to stay away from you."
"Advice you followed impeccably."
He would have liked to curse for a while, but that wouldn't help either. "Listen very carefully for the next part and do not interrupt me until I put this cup down." Phoenix gave him a hard look, but nodded. "He knew about Miles Edgeworth, Demon Prosecutor. And pointed out that he could have me disbarred just as easily."
The look in those blue eyes was terrible to see, and the former attorney's arm actually jerked as though he'd been about to slam his hand into the (glass-topped) desk, but Edgeworth tensed up and held his stare, and lifted the cup a little instead of putting it down, and there was no interruption.
"I said listen. The threat of disbarment on its own was not sufficient. The real threat was the next step.
"After disbarring me, he said he would reopen every case we'd worked on together. He would have put Maya back on trial for Mia's murder. Will Powers back on trial. And he'd overturn all of the convictions, too. Matt Engarde. Gant. Everything. Unless I went back to Europe. Without telling you why." He looked at the empty saucer. Wondered how he could be so frightened. And, without looking up at Wright, put the teacup down.
The careful reply wasn't quite a reply, yet. "And the recording?"
"I thought I had him. Until I went to leave, and he slammed me against the door and got my phone away from me. And smashed it to pieces. Not because he'd seen it. Just because he knew it was there."
The silence stretched. Warm, still air. He could hear someone in another office pulling their blinds open or closed. The burble of a pigeon outside the window, and the whistle of its wings as it departed. The dog breathing. When he got up his nerve to look at Phoenix, Phoenix wasn't looking at him.
And when the response came, he almost mistook the first word for a sigh. "I didn't think that I could loathe that man more than I already did."
It was his turn not to know what to say first, and Phoenix resumed. "But seven years. You should have TOLD me, you should have..."
"Wright! The you NOW, absolutely! No one doubts your ability to think one thing and say another. But THEN? Awkward innocence and honesty were what made you famous. Gavin expressed his intention to befriend you and to drop the guillotine the moment he thought you suspected anything of this. And by the time you were canny enough to know, I…didn't know you…and you wouldn't have trusted me anyhow."
Wright swallowed hard. "Miles, a justified lack of faith is still painful." My name again.
He took his own deep breath. "Phoenix. I know."
He couldn't read the man's face. Not that it was closed off, but that there were too many layers to the expression, blurring each other like multiple blocks of print across one page. He felt his own face shift as they looked at one another, each periodically glancing away and returning. And then Phoenix slid one hand across the desk, open, and he took it. He couldn't say what it meant, other than that it didn't mean distance.
"What was your sister doing, anyway? Gumshoe said she was trying forever to bring you back."
"She WAS? But she knew..."
"Wait, that was a surprise?"
"I know she's been working on something with him. She sold the estate in Germany. And there's someone else involved, this-"
"-young woman. I heard her voice when she called Gumshoe. But I couldn't place her."
"Yes. I - I need to figure this out more than I knew, I think, but I CAN'T think right now."
"Neither can I. This...was a lot of information for one afternoon. I'd...I need to go over it all in my head." They hadn't let go of each other's hands, exactly. "Miles, I know you've done your three things for Larry. Therapy. Kurain. Dog. But if I need a little time to sort my brain out, you'll still...be here afterwards?"
"Without question."
"I don't mean years. I mean days."
"I'm not going."
"Thank you." Awkwardly, jerkily, he got up. Then a thought crossed his face, as obvious as a change in the light. "But I never asked about your car..."
"Insured. Don't worry."
"Do you mean it? Are you sure?"
"Quite." And as insignificant as the matter feels in the face of the rest of the conversation, he sees the relief fly across the man's face too. The dog chooses that moment to lean his head against his knee, behind the desk, and that gives him the courage to say something more. "If I've taken that concern away, let me add…one other thing, to what you'll be pondering."
Almost to the door, the blue-eyed man stops. "What is it?"
This may not have been what my father had in mind. And it may not be the bravest way to say it. But it's now and it's all the nerve I have left. "Kristoph knew that I loved you."
