Summary:

Phoenix, Miles, and Larry have a chance to catchup while Raymond reads the report.

Phoenix explains more about his first contract.

A Brief Recess

Thursday August 11th 2016 – 8:56 PM

Autopsy:

Victim : Fiona Frost

Age : 23

Cause of Death : Blunt force trauma to the back of the head.

Approximated Time of Death : August 10th, 2016. Between 5:00 PM and 6:30 PM

Notes : Strength from blow severe enough to cause pressure bleeding. Death was instantaneous from single blow.

Additional notes: bruising from where she fell postmortem on her face and arms.

Murder Weapon:

Metal rod : Blood found on one end.

Forensics doing additional testing for fingerprints and blood tests. Updated autopsy and weapon report pending.

A picture of the rod was included, and with it, a serial number and a brief description of its construction and dimensions were provided. It was perfectly normal looking rod covered with blood on only one end. A second picture conveyed the victim and the rod's original placement – Fiona laid face first, gruesome wound exposed, and arm stretching toward the kitchen with the murder weapon carelessly dropped parallel to her. The blood on the tip is consistently lined up with Fiona's hand.

". . . Based on this report, it does seem that one thing is clear. White is a very careless man." Miles said. Gregory wondered about that, though, and handed the report to Raymond.

"Careless?" Phoenix nodded, "Yes. That is true. He's made some mistakes, alright. But you'll have to be the one who catches him. He quashed me pretty completely."

"And do you have anything to add to this report?" Miles asked.

"Sure. I'll give my pitch on that. Whenever you are ready."

"Just a moment." Gregory said. "I want us all to be on the same page now."

"Okay." Phoenix agreed, seeming more and more relaxed as the night carried on.

"Now would be a good time to ask questions that do not directly tie in with the case." Gregory verbally nudged Miles. Phoenix . . . he was central to this incident and the events that led up to it.

"I know I asked already, but why have you stayed silent since last April?" Miles repeated the question, still wondering how Phoenix moved from INTERPOL to PI in a matter of months. "Is it due to that original contract?"

Phoenix gave a more in-depth explanation than before. "Yeah. Simply, I didn't want to get anyone dragged into that mess. It's dangerous and criminals like to use people as literal human bargaining chips and meat shields. Some people forget, for whatever reason, that crime lords are crime lords because they don't feel remorse when using people as cover."

"Crime lords, huh?" Miles imagined what cases Phoenix worked on in the past. With his fearless escape from White, Miles formed an image of what kind of life Phoenix led, and all the dangers it produced.

"The same criminals that would travel from country to country, I take it." Gregory stated, "That is why your work history jumps from place to place. Once we have more time, we should go over that work history of yours . . ."

Phoenix remained agreeable. "Anything you'd like, Mr. Edgeworth. I don't always use an alias, but I requested one since I was coming home. I didn't want to assume too much of anything considering you guys. It's not like I have much family, so it would be just you. It's been thirteen years since we last saw each other. I wasn't all that sure you'd even have cared to see me again. Especially not after what happened."

"Do not be absurd, Wright. You were impossible to reach, otherwise I would have sought you out sooner. The only way you could have known my answer is if you were willing to ask." Miles retorted.

"Oh?" Phoenix played with his necklace again. "True. I still didn't want to risk dragging any of you in. if it were up to me, you wouldn't even be in this mess, either. But, I suppose it's worth asking, Miles . . . You were trying to contact me?"

Miles realized he made a slight miscalculation. He did not want to come across as overstepping into another person's boundaries compulsorily, but he did have an interest in seeing Phoenix again. "I, of course, did not know how. And left it at that."

Larry piped in with, "Weren't you using that software to look him up? Couldn't find you through that thing or social media, and stuff, for years, though."

"Years?" Phoenix put his non-gimp hand over his mouth.

"Larry! Ignore him. That is far from what happened." Miles denied it all.

"Hmm." Gregory went to clean his glasses, staying decidedly out of the conversation.

"You were looking for me? . . . For years?" Phoenix asked more directly.

"I may have used some of my resources to see how you fared all these years. It was out of concern."

"He did jump right out the door when he finally found something, though." Larry recounted, much to Miles' revulsion at being outed like that.

"Oh." Phoenix went awfully silent.

Oh, no. He must think I am some sort of debauched delinquent now. "I – I never – I had no intentions on prying into your affairs if that was truly what you desired. I simply wanted to know, for myself, that you were doing well."

"Kinda obsessive, now that I think about it." Larry thought while Miles was trying to hide the fact that he might have been a stalker this last week. This had not been a great week, by any means.

"I was worried! That's all." Miles could feel his body temperature surge in embarrassment.

"Ahh. Mmm." Phoenix covered his mouth and surpassed a squeal. He glowed with delight, blushing in warm flattery. He then cheered, "MmmHmm! Wow! Okay, then!"

Why is he PLEASED of all things? Miles had to change the direction of this discourse, and fast, if he wanted to save face. "It . . . it really was not anything to fuss about. We should return to the case."

"I am so sorry, Miles! I had no idea! If I knew that you really wanted to see me again that badly, I'd have definitely reached out. Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere. I'll even make it easy for you to contact me from now on, okay?"

"Ngh. . ." Miles folded his arms and pressed his wrists deeply into his chest. Why is he so gleeful about this?

"I was debating on keeping that house or moving back. Kinda tired of France, but I'm used to it. I think I'm gonna stay here, though. Worse legal system, but better company." Phoenix rambled.

"Worse legal system?" Miles asked in a reserved voice. He was still reeling.

"Ah! I know! you should come to see European trials with me. Like, a vacation."

"What kind of vacation is that?" Larry wrinkled his nose at the thought.

"The kind that Miles would enjoy. We can bring sheets, rank systems, and be the judges this time! It would be fun!"

. . . Actually, I do want to try that, now that he has given me the suggestion . . .

"Uh, no, that's lame!" Larry still argued.

"Mmm. Remind me, Lar-bear. What's your highest level of education?" Phoenix asked.

". . . Uh. Never call me that again, bro."

Phoenix laughed, "Though so! Grown-ups are talkin', young Butz."

"At least my vacations ain't stupid lame!"

"They say to do what you love. A study abroad could only enhance our careers, right? A dissertation on the varied systems of the modern world." Phoenix flipped through his binder and handed Miles a grading rubric – this was not an idea Phoenix had on the spot; rather, it was something he planned. And worst yet, that plan would be absolutely ideal for his graduation thesis. Miles sensed something underhanded again.

"This isn't half bad." Miles tried not to compliment it too much as he read it over. The categories accounted for a range of different law types and for personal comments on which aspects work better than others. Rank 1 to 5, low to high, and thoughts on the approach. ". . . Might need some tuning."

"I live for that kind of praise! Well, that's settled. When we going?"

"What has been settled? I have yet to agree to travel abroad with you. And, is it not presumptuous to assume that I would both say yes and that you would be acquitted in this upcoming trial? Need I remind you that you are still a prime suspect in a murder case?"

"You're absolutely right. Or, at least you will be. Anyhoo, I was talking about my life plans. I will end my fake names – was gonna do that anyway – buy that property proper under the one true name – live here and continue work. I'm good with the negative setbacks for an overwhelming positive change."

"That is all well and good, Wright, but you are still a murder suspect." Miles echoed his earlier sentiment.

"That's what you're for! Bailing me out every time someone decides to accuse me of murder. As if that doesn't get stale."

"Every time, Wright?" Miles asked. Raymond snorted, looking up from the report, though he offered nothing in dialogue. Miles and Gregory shared a prominent look of confusion – Why did Ray find that funny? Come to think of it, was Ray not looking into Phoenix's past?

"A house and a career, back home. Maybe a partner, a dog, and some adopted children. Yeah. Normal life goals for a change." Phoenix ignored Miles but kept egging him on.

"Why would your hypothetical children be adopted?"

"Adopted children deserve love, too, Miles."

There is something rather ominous about the way he is smiling. I think I have had my fill on this pointless diatribe. "Phoenix. You rented that house under your alias?"

"Yup. Complete my cover and all that. Didn't feel like sharing proximity with my coworkers and tussled with the idea of moving back home; so this is my work around both. Why?"

"So, you are the responsible party behind those atrocious lawn ornaments?"

"Oh. Shots fires, Miles. I think we're gonna just have to agree to disagree here."

"It is not even mid-August! Why are those abominations out on full display, assaulting people out of season?"

"They're my surveillance system."

"Get a normal system like 90% of suburban America!"

"That's boring." Phoenix pouted. "Hey, Larry. Wanna see Miles stare down zombies?"

"No, he does not! How have your neighbors not reported you for disturbance of the peace?"

"Actually, I do!" Larry and Phoenix shared a horrifying hivemind at times.

"I'll show you later. I think I got enough footage for a home movie experience. A silent film where a man can stare down the paranormal and send them back to the abyss with the ice-cold glare. Just need someone to work in the CGI. Know of anyone?"

"You had better not." Miles warned.

Phoenix said, "We'll talk about it. Oh. As far as my neighbors go, I mow their lawns, host events, and won 'Best Haunted House' last year. I even help Miss Oldbag with her groceries."

An unexplained chill ran down Miles' spin when he heard that name but could not pinpoint why. Little did he know that it was his subconscious picking up his alternate self's distain for the woman that prompted such a reaction.

Phoenix continued with, "I found Miss Oldbag fallen on the sidewalk once and helped her back to her house. I'm a real saint, according to her and my neighbors. In short, they love me."

"Do you fool a lot of people with this façade of yours?" Miles asked.

"Yes. You included." Phoenix smiled innocently at Miles, who could do little to deny it . . .

"So, is your house like, full on Halloween?" Larry asked.

"Yup. The kids like to set off the triggers all the time. I have to switch it up every now and again for 'em." Phoenix explained.

"That's so cool!" Larry gushed over the idea of having a haunted house setup year-round. Miles felt himself wanting to ask a question that he knew he shouldn't, but he did anyway, because he was a glutton for punishment.

"Are you not supposed to be working important contracts? Why are you wasting time with children's playthings?"

"Boredom. I don't have many friends. My coworkers are all weirdos, to boot, and I just don't fit in with that crowd."

That is a trap. I see it on his face. Do not fall for it. Do not acknowledge it. Ignore it and he will move on to the next inane topic . . .

"Alright, we should roll on to the next phase. Before our police friends show up." Raymond suggested, putting the report back on Gregory's desk. "Fugitive, tell us something . . ."

"Who, me?" Phoenix blinked, "Okay. What?"

in the plainest English you can muster and without stepping on your INTERPOL obligations to secrecy, what is the connection between the first contract you signed with INTERPOL and the contract you signed with Chief Skye." Ray requested.

"Ah." Phoenix put his hand on his hip and said, ". . . Money. Basically. We'll call my first contract job A. It has to do with an organization, which we will also refer to as organization A. Organization A paid Bluecorp a monthly fee of sorts. It was curious."

"Bluecorp blackmailed organization A?" Miles asked.

"No, it was more like – ah, shit. Larry . . . um . . . you know there is a new band that you might like. You got a pair of headphones?"

Phoenix set Larry up with some ear buzzing loud music. "Hey, Larry?" Phoenix asked after it was all set up, and Larry did not respond. The music drowned everything in the outside world. "Good. I don't mind telling you some of this, but Larry's got a habit of attracting the worst attention. I don't need him mouthing off to the wrong people."

"That is a wise decision." Gregory admitted. "You were researching money exchange between Bluecorp and organization A?"

"Yes. My finding out about Bluecorp was an accident, really . . . I found transactions in several different warehouses, all belonging to organization A, that all had regular payments to Bluecorp. Specifically, the legal division."

"Yes. You were about to explain why you thought it was not blackmail." Gregory reminded.

"There are key differences between the blackmail statements and the contractual agreements found in organization A. The wording was phrased as an exchange of money for a service. Whereas blackmail letters came in the form of threats – legal or otherwise. Pay or face repercussions."

"And the service that Bluecorp provided came from the legal division?" Miles asked.

"Yes. The services organization A paid for were defense attorneys and prosecutors, as well as detectives who would stall out our progress. In short, we could not get anything done with Bluecorp actively getting in job A's way. Evidence would mysteriously disappear before INTERPOL had clearance to act."

"Right, the States are not actually part of INTERPOL." Miles remembered learning that some time ago, "Since organization A is operating on our soil, that meant INTERPOL had to constantly receive permission to do anything."

"That is correct. Since INTERPOL is the foreign party here, the home law enforcement could have a field day falsifying anything useful before we had a chance to carry our own investigation out. Frustrating doesn't even begin to cover it."

Phoenix had an uncharacteristic amount of frown marks on his face – he started acting like a normal, jaded employee who had to deal with way too much work-related strain. It was strange, but also refreshing. He was not just a bag of overflowing energy and over-the-top antics.

Phoenix laughed in a sardonic way. "That is why I, being a natural citizen of this 'great' country, was sought out for this specifically. I could move around some of those pitfalls that others couldn't – I think they'd be forced back home if they tried half the crap I'm able to get away with."

Phoenix then admitted to something, "When I brought up the financial exchanges to INTERPOL, the State's government denied INTERPOL the authority to look into Bluecorp. It was deemed domestic and INTERPOL had no right to intervene. I told them where to stick it and we mutually decided that I should be dropped from job A. Technically, my contract with job A is null. Because I went after Bluecorp, anyway, but 'unofficially' I am still feeding them information."

"So, you are no longer contracted through INTERPOL?" Gregory asked.

"Not officially, but they're waiting for me to be viable again. In fact, I did pick up, yet another case, since being here for the sole reason I can get away with more things. Both – er, all? All are confidential by their nature."

"How many jobs are you working, Wright?" Miles asked.

"Too many, that's for sure. Anyway, that's the connection between job A and job B. Job C isn't even worth mentioning, because I only do that when so-and-so is stuck."

"So-and-so?" Miles asked.

"Team lead. Bit of a . . . dog?" Phoenix could not find a better way to express it.

"Jobs A, B, and C, huh?" Raymond said, "Quite the workload."

"Right? I haven't slept in over 70 hours. Probably because I've been trying to avoid being the next murdered from job B."

"Are you able to provide a summary of events?" Gregory asked, concerned about Phoenix's health. "If not, we can try to rehearse it tomorrow morning. That is, after we meet you in the detention center."

"No. I am fine. My life and Ruby's depend on us getting our arguments sorted. I believe we have enough here to fully discern the truth." Phoenix replied.

"You are still concerned about Ruby, then?" Miles wondered. She could have been the one who took those pictures.

"I had some time to think about it. If things had gone according to my original plan, today I would have officially opened an investigation into White. No more hiding behind an alias. But White happened to learn of my move hours after I set it in motion. It couldn't have been coincidence – or so I thought."

"What do you mean by that?" Ray asked.

"White let it slip when I last spoke to him. An informant told him all about me . . . only someone who knew both my real name and the name Gervais Verrier could have told White about me. The people at Bluecorp only knew me as 'Verrier'; White called me 'Wright' intentionally to get my attention. He knew what I was doing and wanted to make sure I didn't succeed."

"You are accepting that one or both of the Frost sisters set you up?" Ray asked.

"Possibly. Ruby and Fiona knew both of my names. It is entirely possible that they told White about me." Phoenix reluctantly agreed.

Miles added. "That is what it seems like. Why did Ruby trust you, but not other law enforcement? I remember a few choice phrases from her that suggested she would never trust the police or detectives. Perhaps that is the reasoning behind those actions? Although, it does not excuse them."

"We never talked about personal lives. I was using other fake names to extract information into testimony. She knew that. What she didn't know is, despite her distrust of law enforcement, she ended up confiding in a detective. It'd be funnier if we weren't in this situation now."

"She never made those connections?" Gregory asked.

"No. If she did, she never brought it up. Ruby is primarily motivated by avenging her sister. I stuck around her so I could plan around her activities, not get caught unaware in her rash methods, and prevent her from getting her or me killed. It's similar to why I couldn't let either one of you recognize me at Bluecorp. My identity and life were at risk."

"Is it possible that Larry or I accidently exposed you?" Miles asked, exploring all possibilities.

"No. I made sure that didn't happen and took time to keep Bluecorp from retaliating against you. Part of my job is reducing risk. I don't like hearing news of people under my watch getting killed. It really, really frustrates me that this has gotten so bad in only a matter of hours. . . . Although . . ." Phoenix closed his eyes, talking in hushed whispers to himself.

"What is it?" Miles asked.

". . . I think I know all the reasons why Ruby wouldn't go to White, of all people, to sell me out. I don't know about Fiona. I will put some more thought into it. That's all I can do at this point."

"What, do you think she got what was coming to her?" Ray asked, "You do realize that if she did sell you out, that gives you all the more reason to want her dead."

"I don't think that action warranted death, so don't put words in my mouth. What I'm saying is this: Ruby hated White. Fiona wanted nothing to do with the whole thing, though. Ask Ruby tomorrow for confirmation on that, if you must. If Fiona thought she could end this and have her life back by sabotaging mine, she might've done that. People have done a lot worse for a lot less." Phoenix said.

"Do you think Fiona negotiated with White in order to save herself and Ruby?" Miles asked.

"It's entirely possible. It would mean that, despite her trying to appease White, he still killed her when the opportunity arose. Or he mistook Fiona for Ruby. Either way, it worked in his favor to silence the Frosts. You can't deny that as a motive, either, before you oppose." Phoenix directed that last line to Shields, who had yet to add in a counter – but looked like he was about to.

As Miles thought, Phoenix and Ray seemed to conflict; but underneath that hostility, each had a hidden smirk. What might appear as two men in open hostility was actually two men sharpening their skills preemptively before the proper mock trial began. Something about the way Phoenix presented himself now was more alluring than the extremely irritating version Miles witnessed all night. It was a welcomed change of pace, for once.

"I, for one, am not accusing you of anything, Phoenix." Miles reassured.

"Thank you. Someone's sensible, at least."

"We are all sensible, Mr. Wright." Gregory said, becoming impersonal as the truth that Phoenix attested to would be shortly verified. "Raymond and I will be listening thoroughly. We will raise our own objections and opinions, as well as questions and observations as they come forth."

"I understand, Mr. Edgeworth. I am ready to give my presentation. I want to let you know that I will be giving it as the prosecutor and the lead detective would give it. That is my only warning." Phoenix retrieved the documentation and left any smiling features behind. His face went as stoic as Gregory's did. It was a look that did not quite fit Phoenix in any context that Miles had seen previously; a purposefully, distant persona. Phoenix transitioned the room quite suddenly with an aura that Miles could not explain, but understood it as a necessity to the next phase in learning how all these pieces fit together.

Notes:

I would just like to point out that cannon's Miles would probably have reacted negatively to Phoenix's obsessive stalking (I can't remember, but I don't think Edgeworth was impressed or just ignored it as something odd). While Phoenix, with the roles reversed, is flattered by it. Then goes to change his entire life plan to revolve around Miles - which is making this AU loop back into cannon. Fun times.