October 23rd
St. Charles Street
Chicago, Illinois
6 P.M.
Phoenix smiled as he rode his bicycle down St. Charles street, his head full of thoughts about Mr. Edgeworth and the date they were going on later this evening. He looked up at the night sky, the stars shimmering high above him and that made him inexplicably happy as did the thought of Miles Edgeworth as well. He couldn't help but wonder where it was that his boyfriend was going to take him but, wherever they ended up going, he knew that he would enjoy it. Miles always had such great places to take him and, he had to admit, that his horizons were certainly being expanded.
He grinned wryly as he pedaled past the street lamp. Maybe we can be by ourselves for once and not have other people hanging around...
He still didn't know what it was, exactly, that he did for a living but he surmised that it must be something important if he had bodyguards and a chauffeur.
I wonder if we'll go to that show opening up at the theater? He did talk of us attending the premiere so maybe we might. He smiled softly as he let himself coast along, the crisp Autumn air rushing past his face. Whatever it will turn out to be, I'll be happy.
He rode on for a few feet before his pleasant thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a godawful noise that sounded like a bomb going off in the distance. He braked hard, nearly falling off his bike in the process, peering into the dim light beyond the street lamp. The sound had come from somewhere in the secluded corner of St. Charles Street and Phoenix knew that there was a posh restaurant where some of the wealthier families of the city went to on a regular basis.
He frowned. What on earth was going on and what happened?
He had a vague feeling of foreboding but he couldn't turn away, especially if there were people who may have been hurt in the blast. Taking a deep breath, he rode slowly toward where the noise was coming from, his unease increasing the closer he got to the restaurant grounds but he forced himself to go further. If someone had been injured, he reasoned as he headed deeper into the gloom, he had his cellphone on him and could call for help; from the loud racket, he felt it was quite likely that people had been hurt and he couldn't live with himself if he turned away now.
When he had arrived at the winding road hat lead to the restaurant grounds, he was startled to see a scene of absolute bedlam unfolding in front of him: people were running out from the restaurant and were scattering in all directions and he could see, to his horror, that some were lying motionless on the ground.
His eyes widened in stunned disbelief and horror when he saw two men dressed in black gunning down the helpless people as they ran in a vain attempt to escape, shooting them where they fell. Others had dropped to their knees and were begging for mercy but their pleas fell on deaf ears as they, too, were shot in the face from close range.
As Phoenix stood there, rooted to the spot and unable to move, he saw a young teenage girl running toward him and, behind her in hot pursuit, another man with a coldblooded look on his face.
"Help me!" she screamed as she dodged and weaved in a desperate attempt to shake the man who was pursuing her, her hand stretching out as he stood there staring at her. "Please, help me! HELP ME!"
Her frightened eyes lit on Phoenix and she ran toward him, screaming piteously for him to help her but he couldn't have saved her even if he had wanted to; in one breath, the man was on top of her. He watched as she raised her other hand in a futile attempt to protect herself but it did her no good as he simply lifted his Mauser handgun and shot her pointblank in the face.
Phoenix cried out in horror at the girl's execution and that turned the attention of the man in black right on him.
Oh, hell!
"Hey!" the man in black yelled and it was that shout that broke the paralysis that held him rooted to the spot. He turned and quickly rode as fast as he could, feeling bullets whizzing by his head until he finally turned the corner and headed down the street. His heart pounded in his chest as he fled, praying that the men in black didn't pursue him for, as he had witnessed, they wouldn't have hesitated to kill him as they had to those other poor souls.
I have to call the police! He pulled out his cellphone and dialed 9-1-1 quickly, leaving his name and explaining briefly what had happened and giving them the address before hanging up.
I don't know who they are but I know trouble when I see it. what did those poor people do to deserve that?
He pedaled for all he was worth and was soon lost in the darkness.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
October 23rd
Miles Edgeworth's Office
Upper West Side
Chicago, Illinois
7 P.M.
"You did WHAT?!" Edgeworth couldn't believe what he was hearing as the McClary brothers stood in front of him, chastened looks on both of their faces as they reported back to him over what had transpired at the restaurant. "How the hell did you let that witness get away and, for that matter, how in the hell did they see it?! You were supposed to take care of it quietly and now you tell me that there was a witness?!"
How could they have been so stupid and careless?!
"We're sorry, Mr. Edgeworth…"
"I don't care if you're sorry!" He turned on them, white hot rage on his face, his hands clenched into fists. "Take care of the damned problem and get rid of the damned witness while you're at it!"
Francis opened his mouth to speak but Edgeworth's murderous glare stopped him and he snapped his mouth shut, his face turning a dirty red.
"I want you to go and clean up the mess you made and then get rid of the witness; I don't care how you do it. JUST DO IT… and DON'T come back until you do!"
"Yes, Mr. Edgeworth," Thomas whispered quietly. "We'll take care of it."
"See that you do." Edgeworth turned his back on them, his voice glacial. "I expect this… problem... to be taken care of within the hour and make sure no one sees you this time." He turned back to look at them. "Now get the hell out of my office and DON'T screw up again!"
They nodded in unison as they left. Once they had gone, Edgeworth sank into his chair, rubbing his tired eyes with his fingers. The botched hit on the McKay family had brought the police right to his door and attention was focused on him, which was the last thing he wanted.
He'd managed to fend them off and he was certain that they had believed him when he denied any knowledge of it but one could never be sure and he certainly didn't want them to find the person who had witnessed it.
Damn them both to the lowest of the nine Hells! How could they have been so stupid?! He gritted his teeth. I'm not paying them to mess up things, I'm paying them to take care of it! Damn them!
He took a deep breath as he sat down at his desk, staring out the window at the gathering darkness. At least he had his date with Phoenix to look forward to and the thought of the baker always brought a smile to his face.
I think we'll go to the theater tonight… there's a show there that I think Phoenix would love to see. Perhaps we'll have dinner first at that new restaurant that opened up downtown; I know that he'd mentioned it in passing the other day.
Edgeworth lost himself in those very pleasant thoughts, looking forward to the evening out to come. He couldn't wait to meet up with him and was counting down the hour when they were to meet.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Downtown Chicago
Phoenix Wright's Bakery
Chicago, Illinois
7 P.M.
Francis and Thomas walked glumly down the street, pulling their trench-coat collars closer as the biting wind tore at them.
They were lucky to have escaped relatively unscathed after their botched hit although this made them more determined than ever to find the young man who had witnessed it and carry out Mr. Edgeworth's order to the letter.
They searched diligently but were, at this point, unable to find the person that Thomas had seen when he killed young Maura McKay. They'd asked around and found out the person's name-Phoenix Wright-and that he was a local baker with a shop downtown.
Information in hand, they traveled down to the bakery. They noticed that it was relatively empty and waited for the final three customers to leave before they made their way in, closing and locking the door behind them.
Phoenix had turned when he heard the bell chime and his words of welcome froze on his lips when he saw who was standing there in front of him.
Phoenix swallowed hard. "You? What are-?" He couldn't finish.
"You have caused us a great deal of trouble, Mr. Wright," Francis intoned solemnly as he brought his Mauser revolver out of his pocket, "but we're here to take care of this little problem for Mr. Edgeworth. Personally."
Phoenix's eyes widened at the name.
Miles-? That was all he had time to think before Francis shot him pointblank in the chest and he slowly fell to his knees, his eyes wide with pained surprise, toppling over onto his right side, drawing in gasping, painful breaths, his face frozen in shock. He lifted his hand toward them, perhaps to defend himself or in a placating gesture but they simply gazed dispassionately at him, their eyes glittering.
"Goodbye, Mr. Wright," Thomas said grimly, stepping forward and shooting Phoenix in the head, killing him instantly. They watched in detached silence as he rolled over onto his back, blood seeping out of the wound in his left temple and waited until his body stilled.
They nodded in satisfaction as they quickly left the shop, closing the door softly behind them. All was well and the job was done. They congratulated themselves as they hurried to report to Mr. Edgeworth that the witness was dead and all was well.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
October 23rd
Miles Edgeworth's Office
Upper West Side
Chicago, Illinois:
9:30 P.M.
Edgeworth looked at his watch for what seemed to be the hundredth time that evening as he had for the past hour and a half. He was dressed in his usual outfit-tailored black slacks, white shirt with a red tie, a black vest and shoes, his white trench-coat draped loosely over his shoulders-and kept looking out of the window that overlooked the Chicago River. Phoenix was never late for a date. He hadn't arrived and he hadn't called which he normally did when he ran a little late. And he was very worried.
Where could he be? He should have been here an hour ago! Why hasn't he called? He paced the floor, his unease growing. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something very wrong although he tried to dismiss it.
His head jerked up when he heard the door open slowly a half hour later and his eyes lit up as he turned to greet whom he thought to be Phoenix.
"Phoenix, thank heaven!" he exclaimed, his voice relieved. "Where have you been? You're-" The words froze in his throat when he saw Gumshoe standing there in the doorway, his countenance grim.
"Mr. Edgeworth?"
He froze, swallowing hard. He didn't like Gumshoe's tone of voice and he knew that whatever it was that he had to tell him, the news wasn't good.
"What is it?" His voice was quiet and his face had gone very pale.
Please, no…don't… It… isn't…is it?
"It's-" He paused, taking a deep breath before he continued "-Mr. Wright." Gumshoe blinked back tears and opened his mouth to say something but Edgeworth didn't hear him as he fell into his seat, his face white to the lips and trembling. He already knew what Gumshoe was going to say...
"He's… he's... been... murdered, Sir."
He bit down on his lower lip to keep from crying out. "When?" His voice was hoarse.
"About 7 P.M." Gumshoe stopped, swallowing hard, his voice quivering. "It… was a… hit."
"Who?" Edgeworth scrunched his eyes shut.
Oh, dear God… please… please don't let it…!
Gumshoe sighed. "According to a friend of mine on the police force, he had witnessed the hit on the McKay family earlier in the evening and he thinks it was the person or persons who were responsible for the McKay's murders who killed him." He stopped for a moment to compose himself. "He called it in soon after it happened... and he assumes that they caught up with him later on." He blinked back tears. "I'm sorry, Mr. Edgeworth..."
Edgeworth moaned, his heart shattering. He had ordered the McClary brothers to kill the witness, never dreaming that the witness was Phoenix.
"What… have I…done?" he whispered over and over, tears pouring down his face. Gumshoe put his hand on his shoulder in order to comfort him but he shook it off impatiently, his body shaking with suppressed sobs. He could hear him stepping back and standing silently behind him.
He was dead… and it was all his fault. He'd ordered them to kill the witness and now his beloved's blood was on his hands.
All my fault... its all my fault… I... killed him…
He stood up suddenly, his tear-stained face white.
"Take me to him," he ordered and Gumshoe looked shocked.
"Take you to him? But, Sir-"
"DO IT!" he barked and Gumshoe hastened to obey. They drove to the bakery and entered the back door. The shop was pitch black and silent as they entered, Edgeworth's heart heavy as they made their way to the front, stopping short as they spotted Phoenix's body lying there. His head was surrounded by a pool of blood, a red stain spread out on his chest and a thick line of dried blood that went down the side of his face from the bullet wound in his head to his closed left eye.
Edgeworth moaned again as he sank to his knees, weeping loudly.
"Phoenix, oh my sweet Phoenix... I'm so, so sorry!" He wept, sitting down hard, reaching out and lifting Phoenix's head slightly off the bloody floor. "I…I… didn't KNOW it was you... I... I didn't!" His heart ached as he sat there, looking down at the result of his angry order. He'd had no idea that the witness was Phoenix and he wished with all his heart that he could take it back.
How could he live with himself knowing that he had ordered the man he loved to be killed? How could he deal with the shadows of his own soul, knowing that he'd had someone who meant the world to him murdered simply because he'd accidentally seen something he shouldn't?
"Phoenix…."
Shadows descended as he sat there, weeping over the dead body of his lover, Gumshoe standing silent guard near them.
~FIN~