Episode B2-3: I Spy
[found tucked away in Gumshoe's evidence locker, written on the back of a magazine]
Sept. 22. 8:51 AM. Outside Building 201.
It was going to rain today. Gumshoe could see the dark clouds gathering on the horizon. It rarely rained in L.A., but when it did, it usually poured. Today would have been the perfect day to enjoy the cool weather from the comfort of the precinct. Of course, that would be great, but work came first. Though, in this instance, he wasn't entirely sure how this constituted 'work'.
He shuffled in the undercover cop car, hands clenching and unclenching on the steering wheel. In the passenger side was Mr. Edgeworth. For once, the prosecutor had ditched his red coat. Today he was wearing a dark jacket, as if he didn't want to stand out as much. Though with Mr. Edgeworth's hair and Gumshoe's general size, the detective was pretty sure they weren't hidden all that well.
Lightening flashed in the distance. Gumshoe cleared his throat. "So, what's this about, Mr. Edgeworth? Why did we come out here? Is this a part of some case you're working on?"
Mr. Edgeworth frowned, fidgeting with a pair of binoculars in his lap. "Of a sort, yes."
"That's great! Is it a murder? A political scandal? Basic robbery?" Gumshoe tapped the wheel excitedly, eyes scanning the street for any sign of crime. There weren't many people out today, especially with rain coming. Still, he had to be vigilant.
The prosecutor didn't speak for a while. He seemed to be chewing the inside of his cheek.
"Detective," he started slowly, "I need your word that what we investigate today will not be mentioned to anyone. This mission is top-secret." Mr. Edgeworth glared at the detective. Gumshoe felt himself shrink into the seat. "Do you understand?"
"Y-yes sir! Understood, sir!" Gumshoe followed his comment with a snappy salute. "My mouth is sealed."
"Good." Mr. Edgeworth sat up a little straighter. He raised his binoculars, staring at the building just across the street. "As for what we are doing…well, I suppose you will see in a bit. If I'm right, things will be starting soon."
With those mysterious words, Mr. Edgeworth stopped talking. His eyes were trained on the building across the way. Gumshoe tapped his fingers against the wheel. What about this building was so special? The front door to the apartment building opened, and Gumshoe's heart stuttered.
Pam was walking out of the building, signature black jacket and all.
Gumshoe's neck snapped towards Mr. Edgeworth. The prosecutor was smirking, lowering his binoculars.
"Mr. Edgeworth!" Gumshoe waved toward Pam, who was walking toward the apartment's small parking garage. "Why are we stalking Detective Wright? This ain't right, pal!"
"We are not stalking anyone." The young man gripped his binoculars a little tighter. "We are simply following a hunch of mine. A hunch that happens to include the woman in front of us."
Gumshoe couldn't speak. His mouth had gone dry, and his throat felt like it was closing. Mr. Edgeworth was weird, sure. He wasn't a perfect person. He'd often made Gumshoe look into some questionable things. But this? This didn't feel right. Gumshoe opened his mouth, but the prosecutor cut him off with a wave of his hand.
"Remember what you promised me? Your mouth is sealed, correct?" Mr. Edgeworth gave him a cold side-eye. "Not a word of this leaves this car."
"Yes sir…" But he couldn't do a single thing. He'd already given his word. Gumshoe swallowed, watching as Pam walked into the parking garage. This felt like a betrayal, probably because it was. He pointed one of the fans toward his face, feeling very hot all of a sudden. He cleared his throat. "But…why? I mean, I'm sure that Pamola would answer any questions you may have. N-not that you're questioning her, sir, because that would be craz—"
"Really, Detective?" Mr. Edgeworth rolled his eyes. "That foolish detective would rather shoot herself in the foot than talk to me. I can understand that, to some degree. I would do the same if forced to talk to her." He said the last word with a grimace. "That is why we will be forced to watch from afar. Perhaps, by gathering enough data, I can understand her motive…" He trailed off as the parking garage gate went up. Gumshoe could see Pam's beat-up truck pulling onto the road.
The prosecutor glared at Gumshoe, motioning his hand towards the road. "Well? Hurry up and follow her. We need to see where she is going." He snapped his fingers, finally getting Gumshoe to turn the keys in the ignition. The detective let out a sigh, pulling out onto the road a few cars behind his partner. Pam's truck tended to stand out. There was no way for him to lose it, even in heavy traffic. Still, his stomach was tying itself into knots.
Motive? What had Mr. Edgeworth meant by that? That was a word usually reserved for crime scenes and murders, and Pam wasn't a murderer. At least, not to his knowledge. Gumshoe quickly shook his head, forcing the thought away. No, his partner was innocent! Of what, he wasn't exactly sure. What he did know was that Mr. Edgeworth was up to something. For once, Gumshoe didn't like being out of the loop.
But he couldn't exactly leave. For now, he would have to tag along. And somehow, he would have to keep his partner out of trouble. Faaaaantastic…
Sept. 22. 9:30 AM. Train Station Parking Lot.
Pam had taken a straight path to the train station, and then stayed in her truck for around 20 minutes. Gumshoe parked a ways away from her, far enough that he was pretty sure she wouldn't notice the strange black car that had followed her there. Mr. Edgeworth had watched her like a hawk, scribbling down notes in a small journal. Gumshoe could barely read any of it, but he was positive that it wasn't friendly jokes.
Gumshoe's eyes snapped back to Pam's truck when the door opened. It was a little hard to see her face. He was pretty sure she was walking around without any bandages. Still, there would probably still be some bruising from her broken nose. Pam didn't seem to mind. She was whistling, pocketing her keys as she walked up the train station steps.
Gumshoe shifted in his seat. "Do you think she's going to get on a train, sir?" His voice was barely more than a whisper. The prosecutor sent him an annoyed glare before his eyes returned to the station entrance.
"I find that doubtful. With her salary, it's shocking that she can fill her vehicle up with gas. No, I think it is more likely she is meeting someone here." Mr. Edgeworth shrugged. "The next train should have just come in. It will only take a few moments for her to return if I am correct."
Gumshoe joined the prosecutor, watching the train station. The clouds had gotten darker; the lightening was flashing more often now. Gumshoe rolled down his window a crack, a rush of humid air hitting his face. He jumped when the man beside him let out a low hiss.
"There!" Mr. Edgeworth pointed past the windshield. Pam's stop was apparently short. Behind her trailed a girl in purple clothes. Gumshoe squinted. Was that…? The prosecutor chuckled. "I see. So that's why she came this way so early in the morning."
"Is that the defendant from the Mia Fey case?" Gumshoe sat forward, rubbing his eyes. Yep, there was no denying it. That was Maya, the girl that had almost gotten convicted for murder. The two women made a dash for Pam's truck, ducking inside. A raindrop slapped against Gumshoe's window.
Mr. Edgeworth wrote something else down in his notebook, never taking his eyes off the truck. "Interesting," he mumbled. It was kind of creepy; the man didn't blink, as if he didn't want to miss a second of…Pam getting in a truck. Gumshoe started the cruiser at the same time as Pam started her car. He waited a few seconds until Pam had left before following her. The silence in the car was eerie. And it didn't help that his stomach was still in knots. The detective cleared his throat, earning another glare from the prosecutor.
"Mr. Edgeworth, sir—"
"If you are going to make another ridiculous comment about how you 'don't feel good about this', I swear—"
"No, no, I'm not going to say that." Gumshoe switched lanes, putting a few cars between himself and Pam. "I just…I don't think I understand, is all. You made it seem like you didn't know Pam was going to the train station today. But, if that's the case, why did you want to spy on her today, specifically?"
Gumshoe could see the man's face scrunch up. "It is not spying—"
"Anyway, I guess my question is, why today? Not that I'm questioning you or anything, sir, but I…just thought I should ask."
Gumshoe couldn't see the man beside him all to well. He was trying to focus on following Pam. That didn't mean he couldn't practically feel the annoyance pouring off of Mr. Edgeworth. Gumshoe slouched in his seat, resigning himself to never getting his questions answered. A minute or two later, he heard a long sigh from his right.
"If you must know, I simply made a logical conclusion." Gumshoe glanced at the passenger seat. Mr. Edgeworth was tapping his head, smiling slightly. "Pamola Wright is a lot of things—a nuisance, an inconvenience, and a problem seemingly sent to me from demons beyond—but to her credit, she is diligent. Even with a broken nose, she showed up to work on time and did her sworn duty. I told the receptionist at the LAPD to give me a call if Detective Wright ever called off."
"But sir, that's—"
"As I was saying, I wanted to be the first to know if a workaholic cop suddenly wanted to take a relaxing day off. I deduced that if she were up to something, she would do it on a day where she could dedicate an entire 24 hours to it." The man shrugged, and Gumshoe returned his eyes to the road. "Of course, there was no way to know when she would go on the move. That is why I have put multiple people up to the job of watching her."
Gumshoe's arm jerked, causing the cruiser to drift into the other lane.
"You did what?"
"Calm down, Detective. Really, it's nothing to concern yourself over. Ah, look. It seems she is pulling into that store."
Gumshoe really wanted to talk about his boss putting men on Pamola in order to watch her constantly, but instead he followed Pam into the store parking lot. It was really less of a store and more of a strip mall. Multiple small shops lined the lot. There was a fast-food joint, a bargain clothes store, and at the very end, a music shop. That was where Pam and Maya were headed. The two women chatted as they entered the store. Gumshoe was forced to park closer than he would have liked. He watched as Mr. Edgeworth typed a message into his phone. As soon as he finished, he closed the device and put it in his pocket.
"We will wait until they have left this store, and then we will go inside and question the workers. Perhaps they will overhear something that we cannot."
Gumshoe sighed. "But then we will lose track of Pam's truck! Isn't that the whole point of following her, sir?"
The other man tapped his head. "Like I said, I have multiple eyes on Detective Wright. Let us take our time in this investigation. It is best to be logical."
Yeah, because you are being very logical right now. Gumshoe sat in silence. For once, he felt absolutely no need to fill the silence. His stomach tossed and turned; he felt like he would puke any second. His job was to follow Mr. Edgeworth's orders. But this wasn't right. You didn't need to be a detective to know that. Gumshoe was stuck between two impossible options: obey Edgeworth, but feel the guilt of practically betraying his partner, or refuse the order and put himself at odds with Mr. Edgeworth.
What great choices.
About half an hour passed, all of it filled with silence. When the store door opened and Pam emerged with a bag of goods, Mr. Edgeworth sat up. The two men watched the girls go back to the truck. Pam had barely left the lot before the prosecutor was getting out of the cruiser, making a beeline for the store. Gumshoe followed with a barely contained groan. For once, he was in no mood to deal with the younger man's 'logic'.
The music store was pretty busy. It seemed they sold all types of media. There were CDs, records, and even a fancy new device where you could take your tunes on the go. Gumshoe paused to look at an old rock record while Mr. Edgeworth talked to the salesclerk.
"Excuse me." The prosecutor cleared his throat, standing up straight. In a courtroom, he would have looked right at home. The same could not be said when he was in a simple music store. "A woman in a drab coat and a young girl in purple clothes just purchased some goods from here, yes?"
The clerk, a middle-aged man, shifted uncomfortably behind the counter.
"Um, I don't believe I'm at liberty to say—"
Miles snapped his fingers. "We are with the police. Detective, if you will show the man your badge?" It was a request, but it wasn't really. Sighing, Gumshoe fished his badge out of his pocket and showed it to the clerk. His face paled. Mr. Edgeworth smiled.
"Now, if you would please tell us what we need to know, we will gladly get out of your way."
The man wrung his hands. "O-Of course. Yes, those two did purchase a few things from us. Hang on, I can print out the receipt. The register keeps copies until the day is out." The registered whirred, printing out a short receipt. The man handed it to Miles with a forced grin. "I don't know why you need it. They just bought a few CDs."
The prosecutor took the receipt, looking over it with a trained eye. "And who paid for these items?"
"The older woman did. The one you said was wearing the black coat." The clerk fiddled with his hands. "I'm sorry, do you need to speak to my manager? Because, well, I guess I am the acting manager today, but if this has something to do with the police—"
"There's no need for that, pal." Gumshoe smiled, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Say, by any chance, did you catch what they were talking about? Like what their plans were for today, anything like that?"
The clerk looked up to the ceiling, biting his lip. "Well, I remember the older woman telling the young girl about different music genres. It sounds like the girl in purple hasn't listened to much, which is odd considering her young age. I don't know if I caught where they were going next. They just seemed very happy."
Mr. Edgeworth turned to Gumshoe, frowning. "I see. Perhaps this was a waste of time after all."
Suddenly, another lady cleared her throat. Gumshoe looked over his shoulder. Both he and Mr. Edgeworth were standing in the line. Seems this young woman—blonde hair and bright green eyes—was trying to buy some records. The lady wore a long-sleeved black shirt despite the heat of the city. Heck, she was even wearing a grey pair of leather gloves, which could not have been very comfortable. The lady cleared her throat again, pushing her long hair out of her eyes.
"I'm sorry, but are you talking those two girls who just left? I know where they're going. I just happened to overhear…"
Miles raised an eyebrow. "Did you now? You just happened to hear their plans?"
The lady blushed, flipping the record in her hands. "W-well, I may have been listening very closely to them specifically…Regardless, I do know where they plan to go."
Gumshoe checked his watch. "Well, hurry up, pal! We don't have all day."
The lady set her wares down on the counter. "The older woman said she needed to stop by work before they could grab lunch. She kept looking at her phone and frowning a lot. She must have been in quite the hurry. I believe she said something about the police station. What an interesting character, don't you think?"
Gumshoe shared a confused look with the prosecutor. Why would Pam go to the precinct on her day off? It didn't make sense. Mr. Edgeworth huffed, turning toward the door. He bumped into the blonde lady as he did.
"A lot of good that does us. I could have found that information out through other means." He stomped out the door, and Gumshoe rushed to catch up with him.
"Sorry, ma'am," he muttered as he passed the blonde woman. She cocked her head, smiling politely.
"No worries, Detective Gumshoe. It's already forgotten."
He barely spared thew woman another glance, quickly following after the angry prosecutor. The detective didn't have to wait for the prosecutor's next order. He started the car and took off toward the precinct. All the while, he kept glancing at Miles Edgeworth. The young man put his fist under his chin, deep in thought. Gumshoe turned his attention back to the road.
Just what was Pam up to?
Sept. 22. 11:00 AM. Police Department.
Gumshoe spotted Pam's truck as soon as he got into the lot. It was empty. Perhaps they had already gone inside. Gumshoe parked the cruiser in its normal spot. He opened his door, expecting Mr. Edgeworth to do the same. But the man remained frozen, his fist tapping against his chin. Gumshoe shuffled, stepping out of the car and looking back at him.
"Are you coming, sir?"
"Hm? Oh, no. I'll be staying here." Miles looked up, eyes unfocused, as if he wasn't really paying attention. "This matter would lose all anonymity if I were to step foot inside the precinct. You go in and see what she is up too. Try to act natural."
"R-right." Gumshoe sighed, shutting the door. He walked toward the department doors, trying to straighten up. Act like he belonged. Pretend he wasn't sneaking around and stalking his partner's every move. Gumshoe bit on a loose piece of skin on his lower lip. Just act natural. Come on, you can do it.
The precinct was busy today. He waved to Lacy as he walked past the reception, keeping an eye out for Pam. Instead, he found the other girl. Maya Fey was sitting in one of the lobby chairs, skimming through a newspaper with a bored look on her face. When she saw Gumshoe, she froze, sitting up straight. He didn't like the look of fear that flashed on her face.
Forcing down his nerves, he smiled and walked her way. "Hiya! You're Maya, right? The defendant from the Mia Fey case." That was not the right thing to say, apparently. The girl's face went white. She looked down at the newspaper, silent. Gumshoe forced a laugh. Natural, Gumshoe. Act natural. "Do you need any help? Got a crime to report?" he asked, glancing around for Pamola. She had to be here somewhere. She wouldn't just leave Maya alone, at least not for long.
Maya shrugged, still not looking at him. "No, I'm fine. I'm just waiting for Pam."
"Ah, Detective Wright is here?" Gumshoe thought his voice may have been a bit too dramatic. He coughed, dialing it back down. "I thought she was off today. Why is she here instead of relaxing at home?" Finally, Maya looked up from the newspaper. She was smiling, eyes closed.
"We were hanging out today! She said she would only be a few minutes and told me to stay here until she was done."
"Done? Done with what?" He did end up getting his answer, but not from Maya. He heard sneakers squeak against the tile floor, as if someone was stopping suddenly. He turned, coming face-to-face with his partner. Her hair was down today, a frizzy black mess that trailed down her back. Was he seeing things, or was there the barest hint of makeup on her face? Pam's eyes were wide for a moment before they relaxed.
"Detective Gumshoe. Hello there."
"Pam! How are ya, pal!" Gumshoe put a hand on her shoulder, feeling a bit of tension leave him. At least she wasn't giving him the cold shoulder anymore. She might have even been warming up to him, though it was hard to tell. Pamola rolled her eyes, brushing his hand aside. He shoved said hand in his pocket. "Hey, what are you doing here today? Isn't it your day off? Was your nose bothering ya?" Please say your nose is bothering you. Don't give Mr. Edgeworth any more ammunition.
Pam shrugged, rolling her shoulders. "I had a meeting with Gant. Nothing serious. Just normal stuff. It's no big deal." She tucked her stray hair behind her ear. She waved to Maya, who happily put the newspaper on the adjacent seat. "Come on, Maya, let's get out of here. You wanted lunch, yeah?"
"Yup! Burgers please! Or a steak!"
Pam bit her lip. "Let's stick with burgers. Cheap burgers." Maya took off out the door. Pam grabbed her keys from her pocket, waving to Gumshoe with a small grin. "See you tomorrow, Gumshoe."
He saluted to her, praying she wouldn't notice the prosecutor parked just a few spaces away. "Got it! Bright and early, pal!" He waited, watching the two leave and get into Pam's truck. Almost as soon as they had driven out of the lot, he was running to the cruiser. He didn't want to tell the prosecutor something so important. Well, it felt important, but it also felt like it might get his partner in trouble.
But, as soon as he got that patented glare from Mr. Edgeworth, his pitiful resolve crumbled. He drove the car out of the lot, telling the prosecutor exactly what he had heard from Pam.
"Chief Gant?" Mr. Edgeworth's voice matched Gumshoe's own confusion. "She had a personal meeting with the Chief of Police? Why?"
"I'm not sure. She didn't really elaborate." Gumshoe opened his mouth, only to quickly close it. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but it just didn't feel like the right time. It would probably never feel like the right time. The prosecutor went silent, deep in thought. Gumshoe turned his gaze back to the road, watching the beat-up truck ahead of them. The rain fell against the windshield, the only noise in the oppressive quiet.
And Gumshoe kept driving. Because he had his orders, and despite his feelings, he was going to have to follow them through.
Sept. 22. 5:06 PM. Near Building 201.
The day continued like it began. Pam and Maya would go someplace, and Gumshoe and Miles would be right behind them. They went to a burger place, then a nail salon (with Pam coming out in very uncomfortable looking nails), and rounded their trip off at a discount clothes store. Gumshoe noticed a pattern. Pam tended to go where things were cheaper. He guessed he couldn't blame her. Almost everywhere you went in L.A. costed a stupid amount of cash. Pam was probably just trying to save her wallet a few bucks.
Throughout it all, Mr. Edgeworth was scribbling in that notebook of his. Gumshoe managed to get a few good looks at it. It mostly kept track of where they were going, not that Gumshoe could see how that would help. The prosecutor looked almost defeated by the time the women returned to the train station. Gumshoe kept his windshield wipers on, watching as Pam and Maya made a mad dash for the train station's cover.
Gumshoe leaned back in his seat, watching Miles out of the corner of his eye. He couldn't help but feel relieved. Nothing Pam had done today was suspicious in the slightest. It really had been a simple girl's-day-out. Miles let out a painful sigh.
"Well, this has been a complete waste of my time. And to think I would find some new information. How pathetic of me."
Gumshoe tugged his jacket tighter around his body. He hated it when the prosecutor got defeated. He was Miles Edgeworth! A prodigy! He shouldn't feel so badly about himself! Gumshoe turned up the heat, turning to Mr. Edgeworth with a frown. Maybe…maybe I can encourage him a bit. I guess I have been a little judgmental. Surely he has some reason for doing all this.
"Sir, I've been meaning to ask you something."
A sigh. "And what would that be, Detective?"
"You said something this morning that's been bothering me. You said you were trying to figure out Pam's motive. What did you mean by that?" The prosecutor remained silent. Gumshoe flicked the windshield wipers to high as the rain continued to pour down. He coughed, deciding to try a different approach. "I can tell your thinking about something pretty difficult, Mr. Edgeworth, sir. Maybe talking things through out loud will help."
Miles face was scrunched up, as if he had just eaten a lemon. He grumbled something unintelligible before he grabbed his own arm, squeezing it.
"Her motive. Her reason why."
"Her…reason why, sir?"
"Why she came here." The prosecutor stared at the truck in front of them. His expression was unreadable. "Police often move from place to place. It isn't uncommon for people to transfer to new job locations. She has family here. There is, logically, a reason for her to come to Los Angeles."
Gumshoe frowned. "Yeah, that all makes sense. She moved to be closer to family, right?"
"With Wright? No, it can never be that simple." Miles tucked his chin to his chest, as if he was suddenly unbearably tired. "There must be some ulterior motive. Some reason. Something that would push a respectable, well-known detective to suddenly drop everything to come to a new city. She had a good life. Why get rid of it? For family?"
Gumshoe watched as Pam exited the train station, running back to the safety of her car. He started the engine. "I think that's a pretty good explanation sir. Family is really important. I don't see why she couldn't leave New York if it meant she could be closer to those she cared about."
Miles scoffed, looking at the floorboard. "I wouldn't know," he muttered as they pulled onto the road. He looked up, glaring at Pamola's truck. It didn't seem as heated anymore. Just disappointed. "Take me to the Prosecutor's Office, Detective. There's still some paperwork I need to finish up on."
"Yes sir. Right away." Finally, finally, Gumshoe could relax. He continued down the road, following just behind Pam. From what he could remember, they should hit Pam's apartment before the offices. They road in silence, the only noise being the patter of rain against the window. As they neared closer to Building 201, Gumshoe silently wished his partner a good night, hoping she would be able to get some sleep before work—
Wait.
Wait wait.
Why wasn't she slowing down?
Why wasn't she getting in the other lane?
Gumshoe's heart stopped as Pam continued past the apartment building. Maybe she'd just missed her turn? But no, she kept going, not seeming bothered that she had driven straight past Building 201. Miles's eyes snapped up. The prosecutor leaned forward, straining against the seatbelt.
"Follow her." It was like Miles had lost his voice. His words were a whisper, barely audible against the rain. He cleared his throat, trying again. "Follow her!"
Gumshoe thought about pulling over. About dropping the man off at the Prosecutor's Office. It was past his shift. He should go home. This wasn't right. This was his partner, and he had no right tailing her, poking into her private life.
Instead, he hit the gas.
Pam stayed on the main road for a few precious minutes before she turned onto a side street. It got harder and harder to stay incognito. As they drove down the cracked pavement, the cars between Gumshoe and Pam got fewer and fewer. Eventually he had to slow down, waiting until Pam had turned a corner before following. In the hustle of the city, it wouldn't be surprising if she didn't notice someone tailing her, but here? It would be a miracle if she didn't. Still, Miles had given Gumshoe an order.
(And some part of him couldn't help but be curious: where was she going, and why?)
Pam seemed to be going toward the lower economy housing. The homes were small and crammed together, like someone had slapped them together in a Sunday afternoon. Gumshoe watched as she pulled up to a two-floor, multi-room home. From what he could see, it looked like the building housed four different 'apartments'. He pulled over to the side of the road, parking between two smaller cars. Pam drove onto the multi-home's gravel driveway.
The two men sat silent in the cruiser. They watched as Pam exited her truck and made her way to the home. Gumshoe wanted to say something, anything, but the words never got past his lips. Had Mr. Edgeworth been right? Did Pamola really have some ulterior motive for coming here?
Gumshoe stared at the analog clock of the cruiser. Five minutes turned into ten minutes. Then ten to twenty. Twenty to thirty-five. At the 43-minute mark, Pamola finally walked out of the home. Gumshoe saw her shake hands with some middle-aged woman before she walked back to her truck. The detective watched as his partner jerked open the truck door. Even from here, he could see the deep frown on her face. She pulled out of the driveway, heading back the way she had come.
Gumshoe felt like he couldn't breathe, which was only made worse when Miles practically jumped out of the passenger side door. The detective had never seen the prosecutor run before, but he supposed there was a first time for everything. He fumbled as he opened the door, his coat getting stuck as he shut it. He tugged it out and hurried after the prosecutor, who was already knocking at the multi-home's front door.
By the time Gumshoe had caught up with Mr. Edgeworth, the younger man was starting to knock again. Despite his impatience, the prosecutor's eyes were lit up like a Christmas tree.
"I knew it!" The man's voice was scarily close to a snake's hiss. "I knew there was something! Be ready with your badge, Detective Gumshoe. I have a feeling we're about to need it."
Gumshoe's hand tightened around the badge in his pocket. His guilt about betraying Pam was quickly being replaced by curiosity. Miles raised his hand, prepared to knock again, when the door quickly opened. The same woman from before stood in the doorway. She had curly, grey hair. A pair of glasses sat on the edge of her nose. She smiled, head tilted to the side in confusion.
"My, we are getting many visitors today, aren't we? Would you happen to be here about the room we're renting?"
Mr. Edgeworth straightened, putting on a smile that made Gumshoe shudder. "I'm afraid not. We are with the LAPD. We're looking into a case—"
"Oh, you're with the police?" The woman cut him off with a wave of her hand, giggling. "That's a shame; we really need to rent that room soon. Ah well. We suppose that's how it goes. If you aren't going to rent, we're afraid you'll have to be on your way. It's bad for business, you see."
The prosecutor leaned forward. "I have a proposal. You see, we are with the young woman who just came by. As luck would have it, she has prior arrangements and cannot share her information with us. A pity, truly." He shrugged, shaking his head. "It would be much faster if you would relay whatever information you told her to us directly."
The woman hummed, pushing her glasses up her nose. "We don't know. It would take quite a while—"
"As for my proposal," interrupted Miles. "I'll rent the room. Would that suffice, Miss…?"
The woman's eyes lit up. Gumshoe could have sworn she had dollar signs in her eyes. She rubbed her hands together, nudging the door the rest of the way open with her foot. She held out a hand, which Miles readily shook.
"Ehrars. Mrs. Minnie Ehrars. Come inside. We would love to talk to you."