Episode B2-2: Rock, Meet Hard Place
Sept 15. 6:16 PM. Prosecutor's Office.
Oh, he had been so wrong.
Gumshoe stood in front of Mr. Edgeworth's desk, sweating as the man in question paced in front of him. Every time Mr. Edgeworth turned around, his red coat would snap. Gumshoe winced every time it did.
"Detective, this is foolish! Where is your partner?" Mr. Edgeworth finally stopped his pacing, crossing his arms with a scowl. "She is supposed to be with you at all times!"
"Well, sir, you see, Pamola thought it would be best if we split up and used our time more wisely. The suspects are still on the loose, so—"
Mr. Edgeworth cut him off with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Oh, Wright thought it would be a good idea? Tell me, Detective, who is in charge here? You, or the little girl with a superiority complex?"
Gumshoe scratched the back of his neck. "But aren't you two the same age, sir? If she's a kid, doesn't that make you one, too?"
"I won't hear another word about this foolhardy upstart," growled the prosecutor, ignoring Gumshoe's comment. "What I want to know is how exactly the suspects got away when you had one of them already detained!"
"Well, one of them had a gun, sir. I couldn't get to my weapon because I had the suspect." Gumshoe thought back to the scene. Pamola did have a clean shot at the sister, but…he remembered how shaky she had been afterward. How she was looking him over for injuries. It was like she had forgotten she had had a gun at all. But Gumshoe thought it best to keep that fact hidden, so instead he said, "and Pamola didn't have a clear shot."
Mr. Edgeworth didn't seem to believe him, but thankfully the matter was dropped. The grey-haired man grumbled, going to sit in his chair.
"Have the other officers found any indication of where the suspects ran off too?"
"Negative, sir. But they didn't take their car, and Pamo—er, I mean, I think that they won't come back for it either."
"I see. The murder wasn't premeditated." Mr. Edgeworth steepled his fingers in front of his mouth. "The killers are far too skittish to go back to their hideout, and they have made a plethora of mistakes so far. I believe it is highly likely that they won't wander far from the scene of the crime."
"Yes, sir!" That was exactly what Gumshoe's young partner had thought, too. 'They're scared. It's likely they don't have anyone to turn too. They're flying by the seat of their pants.' Gumshoe couldn't help but see some interesting parallels between the detective and prosecutor. Both were eager to prove themselves, almost to a fault. Both could get heated in an argument. Oh, and they both hated each other.
It was irking Gumshoe to no end that they couldn't see eye to eye. He just had to do something about that. Man, imagine if they actually worked together! They'd be unstoppable, pal! He shook his head a bit, saluting to Mr. Edgeworth.
"Anyway, sir, that's what Pamola was finding out. She's narrowing down the possible places they would be hiding."
"And pray tell," Mr. Edgeworth said with a roll of his eyes, "how is she doing that?" Gumshoe felt sweat roll down his neck.
"She…didn't exactly say, sir. Just that she needed to make a phone call."
Somehow, Mr. Edgeworth's scowl seemed to deepen. "Make a phone call?"
"Those were her exact words, sir."
Mr. Edgeworth rubbed his chin. "Just who exactly could she be calling that could help her in such a way? She was transferred from New York, correct?" Gumshoe didn't like the gleam in the prosecutor's eye. He slowly nodded.
"Y-yes, she did," Gumshoe muttered, hoping this wasn't going where he thought it was.
"Interesting. And she has no previous connections here, besides that bluffing defense attorney?"
"Not that I know of. But sir, why—"
"Hm…no worries, Detective Gumshoe. It doesn't concern you." One of Mr. Edgeworth's hands twitched towards the phone at his desk. "Perhaps I need to make some phone calls of my own. After this case is finished, of course."
Why do I get the feeling that this will come back to bite me? Gumshoe's thoughts were cut off by his phone's ringtone. He answered it, ignoring the prosecutor's scathing looks.
"This is Detective Gumshoe!"
"Gumshoe, it's Pam." It was hard to hear her over the noise of the precinct. She sounded out of breath. "I found them. I know where the Pitts are!"
"WOAH! That's great news, pal!" Gumshoe's loud shout had startled Mr. Edgeworth, enough to make him jump out of his chair. Gumshoe winced in apology. "Um, sorry, Mr. Edgeworth, sir."
The man rubbed his ears a few times, still glaring. At least now it seemed to be directed at the phone, and not at Gumshoe himself.
"Oh, forget about him!" Pamola said excitedly. "They went and got a room at a local motel. If we go now, we can still catch them!"
"Detective Gumshoe, I demand that you put the phone on speaker!" Mr. Edgeworth was standing from his chair now, pointing to the phone at Gumshoe's ear. "I do not trust Detective Wright to give you the full information. I wish to hear just what she is saying."
"You're making my job real difficult, sir…" Gumshoe hit a button, the sound amplifying. "Hey pal, just so you know, you're on speaker." The other end of the phone was quiet. The only reason Gumshoe knew she hadn't hung up was because he could still hear the noise of the department. Eventually he heard Pamola sigh.
"What does he want?"
Mr. Edgeworth walked over to Gumshoe, glaring at the phone as if Pamola could somehow see it. "To know the facts. Explain how you came across this information." There was another pause.
"How is that important? We have the information. We should just be going to make the arrest!"
"Having such information makes you extremely suspect, Detective." The prosecutor tapped his head. "How could you know where the killers are, if you were not in on the crime yourself?"
"Mr. Edgeworth, sir, you've gotta be joking!" Gumshoe's outburst was covered up by Pamola's.
"You already tried to put my brother in jail," she spat. "The same tricks won't work on me. Now take back what you said!"
"I will, as long as you tell me where you got this information from." Mr. Edgeworth made a 'tsk' noise under his breath. "I believe the good Detective Gumshoe told me you were making a phone call? Perhaps to one of your old coworkers in New York?"
Gumshoe could hear Pamola growling. She was usually quite calm and collected, but Mr. Edgeworth seemed to always find a way to annoy her. Just like how Mr. Edgeworth gets annoyed with that defense attorney…
"If you must know," Pamola said, trying to regain her composure, "I was asking my old Chief a question. He's done police work for years. His advice was essential to helping me figure out where the killers might be hiding." For some reason, he could see Pamola tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear when she said that. Gumshoe scratched his head, confused.
"But that doesn't explain how you knew their location, pal. How did you know the exact motel they were at?" Another pause.
"Security camera footage," Pamola said. "That's why it took me so long. I had to search through multiple cameras to track down our suspects, and eventually it led me to the address of the hotel."
Mr. Edgeworth hummed unhappily. His nose was stuck in the air. "Your explanation is shoddy."
"So's your haircut, but you don't see me talking about it," Pamola shot back with a huff. Mr. Edgeworth touched his bangs with a frown while Pamola continued. "Anyway, we don't have time to lose. Gumshoe, I'll be there in a few minutes. I'm going to have a couple officers follow us up there. No way am I letting these suspects get away again."
"Got it, pal! I'll see you soon." Gumshoe closed the phone, turning to Mr. Edgeworth. He was still poking at his great grey bangs, looking as displeased as ever. Gumshoe chuckled nervously. "I'm sure she didn't mean that comment about your hair, sir. She's just tired is all."
"Hm."
"Anyway, I should get going. Pamola is going to be here soon." Gumshoe saluted again, for once happy that he would be leaving the prosecutor's office. It had been a while since he'd seen Mr. Edgeworth so disgruntled. "I'll be sure to report back soon, Mr. Edgeworth sir! I'll have the killers in cuffs by tonight."
"I must make sure of that. You and the novice detective need supervision, lest you mess something up again." Mr. Edgeworth straightened his cravat, and Gumshoe got a sinking feeling in his stomach. "I will be coming with you."
"B-but sir, that's dangerous! The suspects could be armed—"
"All the better that other officers will be there. I have no intentions of arresting the suspects myself. However…" Mr. Edgeworth managed to look down on Gumshoe, despite being shorter than the detective by a long shot. "Should you make such a grievous mistake again, I will need to be on the scene to divvy out punishment as soon as possible. Have I made myself understood?"
"Y-yes sir."
"Good. Then let's go. We haven't a moment to waste." And just like that, the prosecutor headed out the door. Gumshoe saw the tail of his red coat before the door slammed shut behind them. The detective looked down at his phone before sighing and following after the prosecutor. As much as he wanted to take the elevator, he knew Mr. Edgeworth wouldn't go near it. Which meant going down a long flight of steps to the exit.
They waited in the lobby, Gumshoe staring out the glass doors while Mr. Edgeworth tapped his foot impatiently. Every second they sat in silence only made Gumshoe's nerves worse. And when Pamola pulled up to the front door, only to see Mr. Edgeworth walk out, well…
He sighed once more. It was going to be a very long car ride.
Sept 15. 7:51 PM. About 50 feet from the Pink Palace Motel.
"…"
"…"
"So, uh…" Gumshoe's loud voice echoed throughout the silent car. He wiggled in the back seat, hunched over as he stared at the other two occupants. Pamola hadn't exactly given up her driver's seat, and Mr. Edgeworth refused to sit in the back. That left poor Gumshoe to sit behind them. Honestly, the silence was more unbearable than the seat. He cleared his throat, hoping to spark some form of conversation. "It…sure is a beautiful evening, right?"
"…"
"…"
Gumshoe sighed. Fantastic move, me, way to make things less awkward. Mr. Edgeworth coughed into a closed fist, but otherwise said nothing. Pamola had a death grip on the steering wheel, her hands losing all circulation. Gumshoe just had to break this silence. So, he talked about the only thing that would make the two of them speak.
"What's the best way to approach these killers, pal?" he asked to Pamola, noticing her head tilt toward him just a little. Good, he had her attention. "One of them is armed, and they know we're coming. They'll be trigger happy."
"We'll put on some bullet proof vests. Then we'll go room by room, searching until we've found them." Pamola's voice took on a hard edge. It reminded Gumshoe of how she spoke after the shooting with the Pitts. "With the other officers there, it shouldn't be hard to watch each other's backs. Still, we have to be careful."
"Right, sounds like a plan, pal!" Desperate to keep the conversation going, Gumshoe turned to Mr. Edgeworth, who was staring out of his window with a frown. "Oh, and Mr. Edgeworth, sir, you should wear a vest, too."
"I have no intension of getting close enough to the fight that I should need a vest. I simply intend to watch from afar." The prosecutor's words were curt. Pamola took a sharp left turn, throwing the grey-haired man into the passenger side door. When he glared at her, she simply shrugged her shoulders.
"Oops. My bad."
"Ugh. Your driving is still as abhorrent as the day we met," he spat.
"And your observation skills are worse. Tell me, Edgeworth, what should happen if the suspects do get away from us again?"
"Then I'll be sure to dock your pay."
Gumshoe somehow managed to shrink down farther in his chair. This was so not the conversation he had wanted between the two of them.
Pamola shook her head. "No," she said. "It means that the suspects could run right out the front gate. Do you expect them to just throw down their weapons and surrender? I think quite the opposite. Should they need to run, what's going to stop them from taking a hostage?" They stopped at a red light, and Pam took that time to look distastefully at Mr. Edgeworth's clothes. "And seeing as you will be the most gaudily dressed person in the area, it won't be difficult for them to reason out that you aren't a cop. You would be the first person they would go after."
"Hmph. I refuse to take fashion advice from someone who wears the same dingy black coat everyday." The light turned green, and now it was Mr. Edgeworth's turn to be sickened by Pamola's choice of clothing. "That ratty thing has hundreds of holes in it. It looks even worse than Detective Gumshoe's."
Gumshoe hid the bullet hole in his sleeve, even though Mr. Edgeworth wasn't looking at him. "It's not that bad, Mr. Edgeworth, sir…"
"Do you really not have enough money as to buy a new one?" Mr. Edgeworth continued as if Gumshoe had never said anything. The young man tapped his forehead with a shake of his head. "I know detectives aren't paid an astounding sum, but surely you have enough money for that at least."
"I don't need to buy a new one. This one serves perfectly well." Pamola's tone was icy, and even Gumshoe got the hint that his boss was walking on thin ice. "Besides, this one was a gift from my mentor."
"I didn't realize Detective Goodman was one for charity—"
Pamola cut Mr. Edgeworth off by taking another sharp left. The prosecutor grunted as his face became personally acquainted with the window. Gumshoe tried to ignore their squabble, focusing on the building up ahead. He could see the Pink Palace Motel sign in fading neon letters. Pam took a side road before getting close, parking in a public lot.
"I never said it was from Goodman," Pamola said, jerking the keys out of the cruiser. She exited the car, and with a slam of her door, the conversation ended. Gumshoe let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. Mr. Edgeworth rubbed his injured cheek.
"This trip is turning out to be more trouble than it's worth," he mumbled, exiting the passenger side door. Gumshoe was quick to follow him, the two running after Pamola. She was at the police supply truck, her jacket thrown over a tree branch as she fitted herself for a bulletproof vest. Gumshoe did the same, and after a bit of persuasion, the older detective managed to get Mr. Edgeworth in a vest of his own.
The lot was filled with a dozen unmarked police cars, multiple officers in disguise. Even Gumshoe could work out why. If the Pitts saw a bunch of cop cars coming into the motel parking lot, everyone staying there would be at risk. The plan was to have all the cops slowly close in around the hotel, and once given the signal, everyone would begin their search. Gumshoe scanned the crowd for any sign of Maggey Bird. When he didn't see her, his spirits fell a little.
"All right, everyone listen up!" Pamola waved the other officers closer. Once everyone was gathered around, she put her black jacket back on. "Here's the plan. Gumshoe and I will come in through the back. We've called the motel manager, so we know which room the suspects are in. However, we need to search every room. They could have accomplices here, and we don't want to risk anyone's lives today. Everyone needs to keep a sharp eye out, all right?"
Gumshoe noticed the side eyes and hushed whispers of the officers. He frowned, a glare quickly shutting them up. Gumshoe had seen those looks before, but they had been directed toward Mr. Edgeworth in the courtroom. People didn't like being bossed around by someone much younger than them. Unfortunately for them, Gumshoe had decided that he liked Pamola, so if they were going to question her, they were questioning him too.
Eventually the group muttered out 'yes sir', and they were on the move.
Mr. Edgeworth followed them up until they reached the front of the hotel. Gumshoe made sure to station a guard around him. The prosecutor was supposed to stay behind an unmarked police car for his own safety, but Mr. Edgeworth didn't take orders very well. Gumshoe sighed, leaving him and walking with Pamola to the back.
They had to go up a small flight of steps to get to the second level of the motel. Each detective had their guns in hand, carefully clearing each corner before moving on. The paint was peeling off the sides of the walls, and cockroaches scuttered underneath Gumshoe's feet. The place smelled like stray cats. Gumshoe's nose twitched.
The room their suspects were in looked just like any of the others. Pamola took her place on one side of the door while Gumshoe tried the handle. He shook his head at her.
"Locked," he whispered. Even though he was being quiet, the word seemed like a gunshot. Gumshoe tried holding back a sneeze as Pamola studied the door. She was trying the knob herself when a spotted tabby cat jumped on the metal railing, right next to Gumshoe.
The man stared at the cat. The cat stared back. It hissed at him. Gumshoe felt his nose twitch a little bit more.
"Gumshoe?" Pam's voice was barely audible. She was glaring from him to the cat. "What are you doing? We need to break the door down."
"B-bad news, pal," he said, feeling another sneeze coming on. "I'm al-allergic to c-cat hair. When I smell it, my nose gets all s-stuffy and I…"
Pamola grabbed his sleeve, turning him from the cat. Her finger was pointed at him, her eyes two grey beady dots. "Don't. You. Dare."
But Gumshoe couldn't help it. He took in a hitching breath and, despite trying his best to cover it up with his hand, he sneezed.
"ACHOO!" The quiet silence of the night was shattered. Gumshoe's sneeze finally managed to chase the cat away, along with their suspects. Gumshoe could hear panicked shouting in the room. There was the sound of glass shattering inside the room. Pamola cursed, trying to break the door down. With her small stature, it wasn't surprising that she barely made a dent. Gumshoe added his body to hers, and finally the door came off it's hinges, crashing to the side.
The detectives ran into the room, guns drawn. The girl, Sandy, was halfway out the window, having broken the windowpane to get out. Snake was shakily pointing the gun at Gumshoe, but Pam was quicker. She ran over, grabbing Snakes wrist and tugging it sharply toward her. There was a pop as Snake yelled, and the gun fell to the floor. Pamola pushed the man toward Gumshoe, her eyes set on the window.
"She's getting away!" Pamola snarled, charging after her. Gumshoe watched, wide eyed, as the young detective dove through the broken window after the suspect. He didn't think there was a fire escape. Even though it wasn't a long drop from the second floor to the first, he doubted Pamola would get out of this unscathed.
"Darn it!" Snake said shakily. He dove for the gun on the floor. Gumshoe, for once in his life, was quicker. He put his foot over Snake's gun, leveling his own weapon at the man.
"Don't try it, pal," Gumshoe ordered, managing to drop his usual goofy manner. Gumshoe wasn't the smartest detective on the force, but you didn't have to be a genius to wield a gun. Snake managed to hold on to his confidence for a few seconds before he slowly raised his hands in surrender. Gumshoe quickly put cuffs on his wrist, leading the man out to the second story balcony. Not really caring if the suspect was hurt or not, Gumshoe pushed the man into the barrier, searching for any signs of Pamola.
If the brother had the gun, then that means the sister probably wasn't armed. That was good. Hopefully, Pamola would be able to outrun her and take her down. That is, if that fall didn't kill her. Goodman was right, the kid really doesn't have any care for her own safety. Gumshoe quickly led the suspect down the stairs to the ground level. Snake kept jerking around. It took all Gumshoe's concentration to keep him still.
"Detective Gumshoe!" The accented voice had come from in front of him. Gumshoe looked up, seeing Mr. Edgeworth's red coat.
"Mr. Edgeworth! You're supposed to be behind that car!" Gumshoe used one of his hands to wave him back, though the prosecutor made no signs of moving. "You need to get back! One of them jumped through the window and is on the loose."
"Oh, and I suppose that was Detective Wright's fault, yes?" The prosecutor rolled his eyes. "Of course the novice would fail to apprehend her suspect as soon as possible. A rookie mistake."
"Now's not the time for that, sir! Please, just get back—"
"Does this second suspect have a gun?" Mr. Edgeworth interrupted.
"Well, no, but—"
"Then there is no danger to my person," he said with a shrug. "Now, quickly, hand that suspect off to another officer. I want to have at least one person on trial tomorrow."
"Y-yes, sir…" Gumshoe grabbed Snake, eyes still scanning for Pamola. She still hadn't shown up…was she okay? The large detective was about to yell for an officer to go look for her when a figure darted out of the woods to his right. It wasn't Pamola's signature jacket. The sister, Sandy, was running right through the parking lot. Something silver and shiny was in her hand. And unfortunately, she was heading straight for Mr. Edgeworth.
"Hey, stop right there!" Gumshoe's shout didn't seem to do much. He struggled to grab his gun, but now Snake was putting up more of a fight, and it was taking all the detective's strength to keep a hold of him. "Mr. Edgeworth," Gumshoe shouted, "watch out!"
The prosecutor managed to stumble back, but it turned out he didn't have too. Out of nowhere, a black blur came chasing after the suspect, tackling them a few feet away from Mr. Edgeworth. A silver object flew from Sandy and skittered across the pavement.
"Oh no you don't!" It was Pamola. The two women fell to the ground, wrestling on the black pavement. The entire unit watched, frozen in place, as the rookie detective tried to get the upper hand. After a few seconds, Pamola had the suspect in a headlock. She looked to the other officers, still struggling with Sandy. "Well, what are you waiting for? Help me out—ack!"
Sandy tucked her chin forward and then slammed the back of her head into Pamola's face. Gumshoe heard the sickening, squelching noise, and he winced in sympathy when he saw blood on Pamola's face. That finally got the other officers moving. A few of them took the sister away while Pamola held a hand to her face. Gumshoe ran towards her, shoving Snake off to another officer before he went to help his partner.
Pamola was still sitting on the ground when he got there, her hand holding her bloody nose shut. A good portion of her lower face was red. He helped her up slowly, holding her arms when a wave of dizziness hit her.
"Owww…" she mumbled. "That hurt."
"You okay, pal?"
"Yeah. Yeah, it's fine." She rummaged through her jacket pockets with her free hand. "I thought I had a tissue or something in here…"
Gumshoe tugged her toward their cruiser. "Maybe we should call you an ambulance, Pamola. You might have broken your nose."
"Gumshoe, I…I can't." The rookie tried to tug out of his grip, but he kept a firm grasp on her arm. Gumshoe didn't exactly expect her to walk straight right now. "We both have the same crappy paycheck. What makes you think I can afford a hospital visit?"
"But your nose!"
"I'll look up how to fix it online." She shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe I just busted a blood vessel?" But the area around her eyes was already starting to get red, a major sign that her nose was definitely not okay. She was still holding her nose shut, her hands a red mess. Gumshoe opened the passenger door for her. For once she didn't complain, quietly taking her seat with a sigh.
"I can help pay for it, Pamola. Don't worry, it's no skin off ol' Gumshoe's back!"
"That's…really kind, Gumshoe, but I couldn't ask that of you." Pamola tried to frown but stopped when it hurt her nose. "You're just as strapped as I am."
"Nah, I've broken my nose once or twice myself. If us detectives don't help each other out, then who will?"
"I suppose that is my job, unfortunately."
Gumshoe jumped, spinning around to see Mr. Edgeworth just behind him. Pamola must have missed him too, because she immediately straightened up and glared at the man. Gumshoe couldn't believe he had lost sight of him in all the chaos. He sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair.
"I'm glad you're all right, Mr. Edgeworth, sir!"
Mr. Edgeworth rolled his eyes, staring down at Pamola. It might have been an intimidating showdown, but since one of them had a bloody nose, it wasn't so scary. Mr. Edgeworth tsked, tapping his head with a finger.
"You should not have let yourself get distracted, Detective Wright."
"And you shouldn't have stood at the entrance of the motel." Her voice was a little nasally. "She was running straight at you. If I hadn't interfered, you would have been stabbed."
Mr. Edgeworth frowned. It wasn't an angry one this time, rather contemplative. "I do not remember seeing any knife."
"Because I knocked it out of her hand when I tackled her. It's probably somewhere back at the parking lot." Pamola groaned, leaning her head on the seat. "Now if you will excuse me, I need to go tend to my injury."
"R-right!" Gumshoe saluted, though he wasn't sure to who, and tried walking past Mr. Edgeworth to the driver side. He was stopped when the prosecutor held up a hand.
"I was under the impression you were going to a hospital, Detective."
"Well, your impression was wrong," Pamola said tiredly.
"It is because you lack the funds for treatment?"
"That is none of your business. Gumshoe, start the car."
"No," ordered the prosecutor. "Detective Gumshoe, stay right where you were." Mr. Edgeworth leaned down so that he was on eye level with Pamola. "I will not have the detectives under my employ treating broken bones on their own. Do you have any idea how much that could interfere with future investigations?"
Pamola wasn't looking at him, instead searching through the glove compartment. She retrieved a few napkins and used them to sop up the blood on her face. "Do you have any hobbies other than thinking about 'future investigations'?"
Mr. Edgeworth hmphed, standing back up straight. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, dialing a three-digit number and putting it up to his ear. "Hello," he said haughtily, "I require an ambulance at the motel called the Pink Palace. I have an officer that is in need of medical attention."
"You little—" Pamola jerked forward, as if to punch Mr. Edgeworth in the face. It was only thanks to Gumshoe's quick reflexes that she didn't. He held down her shoulder while the girl continued to fume. "I don't have the money to handle that!"
"Your anger is not necessary." The prosecutor shrugged his shoulders with a smug grin. "Your department should cover the cost."
Pamola squirmed in her seat, still trying to get Gumshoe's hand off her. She was failing, but he wasn't sure whether it was due to her tiredness or her broken nose. Gumshoe smiled, hoping to diffuse at least some of the tension.
"It actually doesn't cover as much as you think, sir," he said with a laugh. "The department hasn't had many detectives come back with injuries, so they updated that policy a few years ago. They only cover about half of the cost, sir!"
Pamola's nasally voice cut him off. "It was never like that in New York. I only found that out after my first case with Goodman. I had rolled my ankle, and when I went to get it looked at, I saw the bill…" she trailed off. The napkin was quickly filling up with more blood, so she switched it out with a fresh one. "It's still a hefty price to pay. So go ahead and tell them to cancel that ambulance." She glared at the prosecutor over her napkin. "Seriously. Or I'll bill it to your office."
"Hm. For once, we are in agreement." Mr. Edgeworth nodded his head, missing Pamola's eyes going wide. "I will have to have a talk with Chief Gant about that policy. It could get the department into some serious legal trouble. I will cover the cost this time." He stared down at Pamola, looking just as confident as he did in court. "After all, I require you two to be in top shape at all times. And while your…attitude leave much to be desired, that does not mean that I must behave the same way." He turned, his coat tail snapping in the wind. "Should your nose be broken, you will be confined to the desk for two weeks. This is not negotiable. Good night."
Pamola watched him walk away, something undiscernible in her eyes. Gumshoe couldn't tell if it was anger or disgust or some slight form of admiration. While the conversation lulled, Gumshoe walked to his side of the cruiser. He inserted the keys and got the air running, pointing one of the vents to Pamola's face. Said detective was watching the grey-haired prosecutor walk away.
"What was that about?" she asked, finally looking at Gumshoe. "I thought he didn't care if we dropped dead?"
"Well, Mr. Edgeworth always tries to act professional. Despite his harsh exterior, he's a big ol' softy, pal." Gumshoe cleared his throat. "But try not to do anything like that again. It probably won't be that easy from now on."
"Right." There was a buzzing sound, and Pamola grabbed her phone. Gumshoe saw the caller ID was Chief Gant.
"Woah! You're getting a personal call from the Chief of Police? Wow, pal, you must be pretty special for that!"
"Sure," the girl muttered. "Special is one word for it." She let it go to voicemail, letting it fall back into her lap. "I don't have the energy for that right now. My entire face feels like it's on fire. I guess now we just wait for the ambulance, huh?"
"Yep! Just Gumshoe and Pamola, solving crime!" Gumshoe put his hands behind his head with a laugh. Pamola raised an eyebrow.
"Hey, you know…I actually prefer Pam."
"Huh? Really?"
"Yeah. My full name's wordy." Funnily enough, now that he was looking at her, Pamola had turned her face away from him. "Pam's easier to say, yet you've been calling me Pamola this entire time. Why?"
"Oh, well…" Gumshoe grasped for words. "You didn't seem like you really wanted me to talk to you, pal. And I've always called Mr. Edgeworth…well, Mr. Edgeworth. I guess I was just trying to be professional, yeah?"
"Wait, back up a second." Pamola winced, pinching her nose tight. "I like talking to you. You're…a good enough person. Well, no, that came out wrong—"
"No, it's okay, pal. I understand." Gumshoe put his hands on the steering wheel, if only so that he could move a little. "I'm not exactly the most liked person at the precinct. I know that if Chief Gant hadn't have stuck you with me, you probably wouldn't have ever talked to me. And after that blunder with the Mia Fey case, it's a wonder you don't hate me. Plenty of other people do."
"Is…that why you work with Edgeworth? Is he the only person who will?"
"Actually, it was the other way around. I remember it like it was yesterday…" And Gumshoe could, because who else but Mr. Edgeworth would walk into the precinct like he owned the place, in his little red suit and styled grey hair? "No one else wanted to work with him, except for me. I gave him a chance, and he did the same for me. At least, that's how I remember it." Gumshoe shrugged, shaking away the memories. "Anyway, all that aside, I'll call you Pam from now on, if you want."
Pamola—no, Pam—swapped out her napkin again. When she did, Gumshoe managed to catch a rare, toothy smile from the rookie.
"Yeah, okay. Sure thing, Gumshoe."
"Oi! That's Detective Gumshoe to you, pal!"
"Sure, Gumshoe."
This two part section was inspired by a mix of Ingots of Gold and The Bloodstained Pavement from Miss Marple: The Complete Short Stories.