July 30, 2024
Fitz Carlton Hotel
10:00 AM
"Mr. Edgeworth, you look terrible!"
Phoenix sidelined that awkward conversation at the door, burying his nose into a cup of coffee so that he didn't have to look into Miles' assistant's scandalized expression. It wasn't his fault that Miles didn't get a wink of-
Oh, who was he kidding, that was completely his fault. But how was he supposed to know that Edgeworth would be so tense about being flirted and teased with-
No, no. He really did know. Somehow though, he was finding himself rather hard-pressed to feel too guilty about it. He'd spent all night waiting for Miles to show up.
After the chief prosecutor guilefully stepped around that question, Ms. Maisel brought the rest of their things into the hotel room. "I didn't see any sign of your private investigation, sir," she said as she laid the dry cleaning over the leather sofa. "They must have taken it as part of their case."
"Perfect," Edgeworth growled, rubbing a hand over his face. "Blackquill must have it all."
Fan-flippin-tastic. Phoenix knew there was something wrong with that guy the moment he saw him. He just overcompensated for the jealous bias the man inspired in him. He should have followed his gut all along. "Any digital copies?" he asked, leaning an arm over the back of the sofa to look at the pair.
"Franziska will have them," Edgeworth replied. "She should be arriving late this afternoon. I'm sure they will need her to identify Josephine as soon as possible, but I will ask her to meet us here afterward."
"Well, okay, so what are we going to do for the day?" Phoenix asked. "We don't have our cases, we won't hear from anyone in Deutschland for hours, they won't let us anywhere near your place. So can we do anything but just sit on our hands?"
"I am going to go into work," Edgeworth declared in a perfunctory manner. "I've taken enough time off as it is and there is nothing barring me from taking care of any of the other departmental duties outside this particular investigation." Phoenix nodded. There was also nothing stopping him from snooping and talking to his subordinates about what was going on. "You should stay here, Wright. It's not safe out there."
"Oh, so I'm going to sit on my hands all day then," Phoenix replied sarcastically. However, the scalding glare that Miles sent him quickly shut him up.
"Yes, Phoenix. Josephine was in my home, likely looking for you, and was murdered by some unknown assailant that we have yet to identify," Miles snapped. "So help me, you will stay right here until I return if I have to tie you down to the bed. Do you understand me?"
Yikes!
"Yessir!" Phoenix said with a snap to his voice, very aware that Edgeworth was perfectly capable of doing just that. Innuendo aside.
Miles shot him one last warning look before he headed into the bedroom to change. In what seems liked seconds later, he emerged in his fresh suit, shoulders back as though he were about the march into battle. "I expect a call from you every hour," he declared, showing Ms. Maisal outside the door. "Good day, Wright."
Such a charmer.
"Kay, love you, honey~" Phoenix called from the sofa. It was oh so gratifying to see the other man turn red and sputter, while wide-eyed Ms. Maisel put a shocked hand to her mouth.
"I said 'Good day!'" Edgeworth snapped, embarrassed, before he slammed the door shut.
Phoenix cackled to himself a little bit after the pair departed. He checked his watch, finished the rest of his coffee, then went to change and get ready. This had a typical Wright & Co. investigation written all over it and damned if Miles Edgeworth was going to do anything to keep Phoenix Wright from a murder investigation.
~o~
July 30, 2024
Edgeworth Residence
10:45 AM
"Wow, Nick! I can't believe you picked me out of everybody to help you! I won't let you down, buddy!'
Phoenix didn't tell Larry the only reason why he called him was to use his cell phone. (He had to call Miles somehow.) Also, he was the only one who wasn't gainfully employed (and thus available). He did, however, clap a hand over his old friend's mouth and shush him. "Larry, there are cops right there!" he hissed, reminding the other man of their predicament. Both were hunched over, skirting the perimeter of the house which was overflowing with detectives and uniforms. There was no way that they could get inside to investigate with all the cops around. Plus, it was slightly unethical to trample all over an active crime scene. However, they managed to get into the backyard without being spotted.
Once Phoenix was sure the way was clear, he waved Larry over where they pressed their backs against the wall to peek into one of the windows. There was some reason that everyone thought that this was him. He was determined to find out what it was. The kitchen window was just a touch too high, so he gestured for Larry to give him a boost. Larry provided a very wobbly support, but he managed to get just high enough to see into the kitchen.
It was sheer luck that it was where the murder had occurred. The body was no longer there, but the outline of it remained on the kitchen floor, along with blood spatter and various evidence markers. Just with a cursory glance, Phoenix hazarded it was a crime of passion. One of the knives was missing from the block and the... violence that the blood spatter suggested was that this wasn't a rational mind. Looking over the scene with a seasoned, clinical eye, he suddenly froze when he saw something smeared over the kitchen tile in the victim's blood.
"I'm being framed!" he hissed down at Larry.
"Say- what?" his friend shot back with a wobble that nearly sent him tumbling.
Phoenix gripped the window sill harder. "I said, I'm being framed!" He looked up to peek again, only to freeze when he saw a very unamused detective glaring down at the pair of them from the window. "Oh Scheiße," he squeaked, just as the detective reached out to grab him.
~o~
July 30, 2024
Chief Prosecutor's Office
11:00 AM
The first hour of Miles' return back to the office was chaotic, to say the least. He could scarcely even think about Phoenix's investigation under the sudden barrage of fires he had to put out after his absence. (He did wonder what this said about him as a director if they couldn't manage six days without him.)
He hardly noticed the disruption in the office, as Blackquill was relegated his own special space separated from the rest of them, where he could conduct his business. However, the presence of extra security darting around in the hallways did nothing to lift his spirits. Nor was the sight of Stuart Ferguson trying to slime his way into Blackquill's good graces as his chief helper.
He was only just getting out from under his first mountain of paper, when the phone rang. He checked his watch. Phoenix, right on the dot. Steeling himself for any more embarrassing pet names, he said with resolute professionalism into the phone, "Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth speaking."
[Oh, uh, hey Miles,] he heard Wright's sheepish voice across the line. [How's it going?]
Miles narrowed his eyes. "...Fine," he said guardedly. A pause. "And how is it going with you, Wright?"
[Funny you should ask that.] Oh no. [I got arrested for trespassing. Could you bail me out?]
The phone creaked in his hand, as fury blossomed like a blood-red rose. "One job," he growled into the receiver. "YOU HAD ONE JOB!"
~o~
July 30, 2024
Police Station
6:00 PM
Needless to say, Miles let Phoenix stew in holding a bit longer than was necessary. Stating if he couldn't count on Wright to stay out of trouble on his own, perhaps law enforcement officers would do the job for him. Thus was he stuck sitting on his hands in a holding cell instead of a cushy hotel suite while trying to make sure that Larry didn't antagonize anyone stuck with them with sheer annoyance.
It wasn't even Edgeworth who eventually bailed him out, but a bemused Lana, who made him feel about three feet tall with a single raise of her eyebrow. "I had my reasons," he said defensively, as she escorted him out into the hall.
It turned out, Miles had his own reasons for not coming himself, as Phoenix spotted him and a white-faced Franziska walking down the hall. Away from the direction of the morgue. His blue eyes caught onto Miles' tired ones. An indiscernible moment passed between them, before Phoenix tread cautiously forward. "Franziska," he said carefully, catching the younger prosecutor's attention. "Is it...?"
Brave, stalwart Franziska looked him up in the eye. "Ja," she replied in a carefully neutral tone.
Phoenix had no idea what to say, suddenly assaulted by his own whirl of emotions. Relief chief among them, but it collided with guilt and anger. He braced himself, pushing that all aside, as he gently put a hand to Franziska's shoulder. "Mein herzliches Beileid."
Her eyes flashed with righteous anger for but a second. As if how-dare-he give his condolences. As if, this was all his fault. And in a roundabout way, it could have been. Yet it shattered a moment later as she remembered the circumstances they found themselves in. "Nein," she said, shaking her head. "I am sorry for everything that has happened to you... Kleiner Cousin."
So sentimental. Feeling just a little awkward that he was suddenly family with Miles, Phoenix offered a tentative smile. "She talked about you a lot. She was so proud of her little sister."
Franziska gave him a look so lost and broken, he nearly regretted his words. She glanced furtively to Edgeworth. "I would like to leave," she said stiffly.
"Of course," Miles replied, shooting Phoenix a dirty look. For what, he had no idea. "We'll take you to the hotel. It's been a long day."
~o~
July 31, 2024
Fitz Carlton Hotel
7:00 AM
A small group gathered in the living room to Phoenix and Miles' suite. The official Phoenix Wright defense team, comprising of Lana, Franziska, Maya via speakerphone, Gumshoe who had accompanied Franziska back from Germany, and... randomly Larry Butz. There was a definite tension in the air, one that didn't have to do with the pressure of the upcoming murder case and more to do with the one-sided friction between Phoenix and Miles. Edgeworth still hadn't forgiven him for marching over to the murder scene. Two steps into the room everyone else knew it, too.
It had been a cold, cold, quiet night.
"Thanks everyone for coming," Phoenix said, taking charge of his own defense. While he still could. "I did a bit of digging yesterday and found out why they think I must have done it."
"At risk of being found by the real murderer," Edgeworth muttered darkly under his breath.
Deciding to ignore that, Phoenix went on, "PVK was scrawled on the floor in the victim's blood." That got everyone's attention, tensing up like meerkats as they silently begged him to continue. "So obviously, it's someone who knows about me. About what they did to me. Unfortunately, they picked Blackquill to head the prosecution so they all know about it too. But the fact remains that there are only a small number of people who could frame me like this in the first place."
Miles was pensive, the shock of the revelation seeming to grant him some small forgiveness. "...Assuming that none of us had anything to do with it," he said, as though that wasn't a given - silly Miles - "then that would leave Friedrich."
"Gentlemen, you are missing a very obvious theory," Franziska interrupted, "Josephine may have written it herself. Meaning the murderer is none other than the real Phoenix von Karma."
She smirked as she surveyed their flabbergasted expressions, letting everyone take a moment to let that sink in. Then, she slapped down her own case notes onto the coffee table. "We found his student records from his old law school. Confirming that he was, in fact, a real person. It includes pictures."
Larry Butz dove for the notes, as if he were sucked in by quicksand. "Oh daaamn Nick, you were a hottie!" he crowed, holding up a copy of the student application.
Phoenix snatched the paper from him, taking a look for himself. What greeted him was a young, boyish but also serious face with a striking resemblance to the von Karma family. Round cheeks, large eyes marred by a striking intensity, jet black hair pulled back into a short ponytail as his once had been. "Huh," he said, holding the picture up against Franziska to compare. "Definitely related."
Miles peered at it as well, coming over to subtly grip his shoulder. "So this is who you replaced?" he asked, all notes of anger gone from his voice. Instead, he kept his hand on him, as if providing support.
Phoenix shot him a grateful look. It wasn't necessary. He could stand just fine on his own now. Still, it was sweet. "What do you think?" he asked, putting the picture against himself. "Who pulls it off better?"
[Hey! I wanna see! I wanna see!] Maya cried over the phone.
"Sorry, Maya," Phoenix called back. "You'll see him when we figure out where he is and bring him to justice."
Franziska delicately crossed her legs, leaning back against the sofa. "On that front, the trail goes cold in Deu- Germany. We lost his trail a little bit before Benedikta died. I've called in favors with my resources at Interpol, but they have turned up nothing so far. Meanwhile, Bernstein is working his contacts to see if there's any possibility that Phoenix von Karma-"
"PVK," Phoenix interrupted.
With a raised eyebrow, Franziska continued, "-That PVK had anything to do with Benedikta's death. It would explain why he suddenly disappeared and why there would be a need to replace him. The scandal would have been too much for Onkel Friedrich, clearly," she added with a disgusted scoff. "Somehow you washed up and made a perfect candidate."
Lucky me.
"Meanwhile, the real PVK has been off the grid for five entire years. If he did murder Benedikta, he would do whatever it took to stay out of sight. Including possibly moving to an entirely different country... such as the United States," Franziska added ominously.
[And if PVK murdered once, he probably murdered again,] Maya reasoned. She suddenly gasped, [Nick! That could mean that you're next!]
The look in Miles' eye said he came to that astute observation days ago. Phoenix let out a weak laugh. "Ah, well...?" he said, awkwardly rubbing his neck, "Guess I should try and make sure I don't get murdered in the meantime?"
"Gumshoe?" Edgeworth said dryly.
With that single word, the detective gave a snappy salute. "On it, Boss!" he said, coming over to loom over Phoenix's shoulder. "I ain't lettin' you outta my sight, pal!"
Phoenix's head whipped between them. Okay, the amount communicated in that single word was impressive. But also- "I don't need a bodyguard!" he protested. The collective glare that the entire group shot him said otherwise.
"In the meantime," Franziska said as she collected all the notes back together after everyone had torn through them, "I will bring this to Blackquill." She dusted herself off as she stood, "Your alibi, along with this documentation, should show there is more than enough reasonable doubt that you are the culprit. You should be, how do they say, 'off the hook'?"
A warm, genuine smile spread across Phoenix's cheeks. "That sounds great, Franziska. Thank you."
An embarrassed flush warmed the young prosecutor's own face, "Kein Problem, Kleiner Cousin."
Phoenix shot a look to Miles. Okay, they were going to have to talk about whether or not they could both be honorary family members or not. Also, they were both older than her! The fair-haired man only replied with a helpless shrug.
However, before anyone could get a word in, the door suddenly knocked.
"Were we expecting anyone else?" Lana asked, a worried tension passing over the group.
"I'll get it," Edgeworth said, his voice steely. Phoenix was pushed back as Gumshoe stepped in front of him, as the chief prosecutor went to the door. When he gazed through the peephole, he seemed to simultaneously tense and relax. Then he opened it up, revealing the twisted samurai out in the dimly lit hall. "Blackquill," he drawled, "we were just talking about you."
"Well, you know what they say. Speak of the devil," the felon replied with a sharp smile. He stepped into the room, letting past him two uniformed officers and a detective. "Phoenix Wright," he called out, compelling him to step out to meet the police, "we are placing you under arrest for murder."
All at once, Lana and Franziska were speaking over each other, one as his actual defense attorney and the other with the evidence to exonerate him. However, Blackquill shook his head at both of them. "I'm afraid this has nothing to do with Josephine, ladies. Phoenix Wright, you are being accused of the murder of Benedikta von Karma. By this man."
"Phoenix von Karma, if you please, Herr Blackquill," a low voice said from behind him.
And suddenly, he appeared.
The great, imposing form of one of the most infamous prosecutors in mother Deutschland, dressed in formal sable, his silver hair coiffed as though he were ready for court. His severe gaze honed in on Phoenix underneath his thick black brows, the only remnant left of his jet black hair.
All at once, all the progress that Phoenix had made had shattered, as he felt his legs give out. Only Gumshoe kept him standing, holding him up as all the strength seemed to leave his body. He was dimly aware of shouting, his knights coming to his rescue as they wrapped around the one who was responsible for this, while Blackquill just gave some apologetic excuse. He didn't hear any of it, feeling so weak and small as Onkel Friedrich towered over even Gumshoe, who still had a protective hold on him. His Onkel smiled grimly as the officers yanked him out of Gumshoe's hands, slapping some cuffs onto him. As he was pulled away towards the hall, the man leaned over, letting these soft, threatening words reach only his ears:
"Willkommen zurück, mein Sohn."