The Detention Center was gloomy enough on its own, between its gray tiles, dim lights, and the ever-present, surly guard standing on one side of the glass panel. But on the other side, Franziska and Phoenix stand distraught as they face the defendant.
Miles Edgeworth sits impassively in the chair provided, but the telltale signs of distress are obvious. His face is pale, and is letting his bangs fall in front of his jaded eyes, not bothering to lift either hand from either knee to clear his vision. He has let his normally pristine suit jacket become covered in wrinkles.
Even so, his voice comes through as loud and clear as ever.
"I already know what you are going to say." He pauses just a split second before either of his visitors can respond. "You are going to say that I am delusional, or that I am mistaken, or one after the other. You are going to tell me I should not let guilt bring me down, especially for something I did not do." He clicked his teeth and sucked in some air
"Am I missing anything?"
"Yes." Phoenix made sure to try to match Edgeworth's tone and volume of voice. He gripped the DL6 file in his hand more tightly. "You once told me that the only thing that matters in court is evidence. That nothing else has any place." He watched Edgeworth shift uncomfortably in his chair, clearly not wishing to reminisce.
"And like I've said before, there's no evidence directly linking you to your father's death."
"There's nothing to exonerate me, either."
Edgeworth scowled as he watched Phoenix shrink back a bit. "You know the facts as well as I do. It was just my father, Yanni Yogi, and me. Everything was dark, and we were losing oxygen in the space the elevator left us. There was not anyone else, and I'm the one who threw the gun to try to stop my father and Mr. Yogi. The only thing that could have happened….the only thing that makes sense….is that the gun went off by mistake after it hit the ground."
Even as he kept speaking, the hopelessness was loud and clear in his eyes. He sighed. "I want you to know…" He hesitated. "That you have done well so far, at least as far as rookie defense lawyers go. But I am afraid that this is the end of the line."
He closed his mouth to allow what he had said to sink in. Franziska finally stepped forward, her face still, and extended her right arm, allowing the coils of her whip to unfurl.
"You are being stupid." Edgeworth did not respond to this, nor the crack of the whip striking the glass panel. The head of the lash bounced harmlessly off, but Franziska swung her arm forward again, and again, and then a fourth time. The guard was still in the back of Edgeworth's half of the room, shaking his head in consternation.
Franziska finally ceased her assault by proxy, letting her lash fall to the floor as she held the handle more loosely. She could nothing more than huff. Phoenix shook his own head.
"A client is a client, and a promise is a promise. And more than anything else, I still owe you from back when-"
"HEY, EVERYONE!"
At the split-second when the doors of the Detention Center were flung open, Phoenix and Franziska spun around, and while neither could see it, the faintest hint of green found it's way to Edgeworth's pale face. A young goateed man, with a shock of hair springing from his head and a thin frame covered with a starchy uniform, had barged in. He was holding a long, thin cardboard box.
It was none other than Larry Butz.
"Long time no see, Nick! Long time no see, Edgey! Long time no see, beautiful!"
An odd emotion, an unwelcome mixture of exasperation, disgust, and nausea, filled both Phoenix's heart and Edgeworth's. This was too much…
Franziska turned to Phoenix. "Do you recognize this…."
"Aw, come on!" Larry shook the package in his hand. "It hasn't even been a week since that business with the security doohickey!"
"It's called a camera." Franziska held her whip more tightly.
"Whatever!" Larry calmed down a bit and saluted with his free hand. "But what really matters here is the man of the hour, Nick himself! Going out there and giving that old rat what for!"
Edgeworth coughed. "What brings you here, Larry?"
"Ah!" Larry hopped over and held out the box to Phoenix with both hands. "It's a kind of present for Nick!"
"Uh….thanks." Phoenix took the box and opened the slit in the side. He opened it to reveal a long metal pole. At one end was a handle, and at the other was a flat disc.
"A metal detector?" Franziska frowned.
"That guy was able to get you off guard because he had a stun gun tucked away right?" Larry grinned. "Well, no more! This bad boy can pick up anything! If you lost your badge, you could get it even through a sofa!"
"I'm not ever going to lose my badge, thank you." The thing was odd, and unwieldy. But Phoenix smiled nonetheless.
As he shifted and tried to hold the metal detector more securely in both hands, he dropped the DL6 file. The manilla envelope fell to his feet, scattering the papers. Phoenix muttered under his breath and knelt down. His hand closed first on the photograph of the crime scene. He was going to fold it and go for another piece of paper, but he paused. He took another look at the photograph.
Gregory Edgeworth was lying in one corner of the elevator, right next to the box's door. There was the bullet hole in his chest, yes. But there were also some shards of glass, little slivers of reflected light on his lap and between his shoes. Phoenix let his eyes go up to the elevator door. It was dull metal, except for the single window that rested in the slot above the deceased's body. There was a single hole in it. That must have been the source of the broken glass.
And then the information came rushing back into Phoenix's head, or at least the draft affidavit on what had happened.
Gregory Edgeworth had died from a single bullet to the heart.
But then, why were there two bullet holes?
-A multi-chapter story; Chapter 25; story idea by CRed1988 and writing by Jerviss.