Chapter 7

Truth, Justice, and Coffee

"Miles what the heck?" Phoenix said.

"I can't figure it out!" Miles said. Then he crashed into the wall again. Phoenix crossed his arms impatiently.

"You know the race won't finish until you cross the finish line," Phoenix said, "We're going to be here all day, aren't we?"

Somehow Miles seemed to think it was a good idea to use his elbow on the controller while playing Mario Kart, but Phoenix didn't think that was his only problem. He shook his head as Miles failed to hit the jump ramp and miss clearing the fall trap—again. Miles was staring intently at the screen and biting his lip in concentration.

"I can just finish the race for you—I already won anyway," Phoenix said.

"I can do it," Miles said.

"Boys!" Mom called, "Lunch!"

"Oh!" Phoenix said and he tapped reset on the Nintendo and turned off the TV.

Miles looked crestfallen, "You could've paused it!"

"Let's go," Phoenix said, "I'm hungry."

Miles followed him to the kitchen, where Mom was checking something in the oven. She offered them a smile and continued bustling around the kitchen. There were grilled cheese sandwiches on the table for them. Phoenix attacked the plate while Miles spread a napkin over his lap. Miles was so weird.

"What time is your Dad coming?" Mom asked Miles.

"Soon, I think," Miles said, "He has to go to the office, but he said I could come with him."

"Wait," Phoenix said, "So where's he at now?"

"He was at the hospital with my Aunt still… But he also had to go see a lawyer about something."

"I thought he was a lawyer?"

"There are different kinds of lawyers," Mom said and joined them at the table, "Miles, your dad is a criminal defense attorney, right?"

Miles had his mouth full but he nodded emphatically.

"Oh," Phoenix said, "Your dad works to help criminals?"

"No," Miles said, "He works for justice."

Mom smiled at him but Phoenix thought maybe he was a little too into what his dad did for a living. Lawyers is lawyers.

"What does Phoenix's dad do?" Miles asked innocently. Phoenix choked on his grilled cheese.

Mom smiled and looked at her hands, it made Phoenix blush.

"Mr. Wright is a fighter pilot," she said, "In the Navy."

Phoenix coughed up the bit of sandwich that was choking him and ran to the bathroom. Great, mom. She'd never done that one before. Phoenix washed his hands in the bathroom sink before walking slowly back to the kitchen.

Mom was still relaying the story of his father—which sounded eerily like the plot of Top Gun—and Miles was staring at her in wide-eyed disbelief.

"His call-sign was Moose," Mom said, "Well, anyway, Dice Man—"

"Mom," Phoenix said, "Can we go outside?"

"But—" Miles protested. Phoenix knew Miles was too polite to argue; he counted on it.

"Oh, okay," Mom said, "But don't go far. Mr. Edgeworth will be here soon to pick up Miles.

"Hey Nick," Miles said as they walked into the small backyard, "How come you never said anything about your dad being a fighter pilot? That's so awesome—almost as awesome as being a Defense Attorney."

"Um," Phoenix said, he thought fighter pilots were way more awesome than lawyers by the way, "I don't really remember him. I guess because he was always—uh flying—and stuff."

"What happened to him?" Miles asked and Phoenix was surprised at how sympathetic his friend looked. Miles' eyes were bigger than Phoenix had ever seen them.

"Well," Phoenix said. The question made him angry and he didn't know why, but he closed his eyes and tried to remember what happened in that movie.

"Um," Phoenix stammered, "H-he d-died… In a training accident."

"I'm sorry," Miles said.

"Well, it was a long time ago, I don't really remember," Phoenix said.

"My mom died in an accident too," Miles said. Phoenix frowned, Miles was moping again. Thanks mom, Phoenix thought.

Phoenix had to tie his briefcase to the handlebars of his bike. Someone had stolen the basket—who does that? He tore toward the courthouse, standing to put more torque into his pedaling.

He didn't wear a tie—ostensibly because he was only observing the trial and wanted to look casual—but really because he couldn't find it. He wore an Ivy U sweatshirt under his suit jacket and jeans instead of slacks, and dreaded whatever comments Edgeworth might have for him about his fashion sense. At least he'd shaved, Phoenix thought defiantly.

Edgeworth surprised him in the parking lot while Phoenix was locking his bike. Edgeworth too chose to dress inconspicuously—if not quite so casually as Phoenix. But then, Phoenix didn't think Edgeworth owned t-shirts, jeans, or sweatshirts. He probably wore a sweater vest over his pajamas.

"I like your bike," Edgeworth said.

Phoenix made a face at him, he didn't think Edgeworth was serious.

"Sorry, I'm late," Phoenix said and Edgeworth shook his head and tapped his temple in that annoying way he had when he thought he was being clever.

"I assumed you would be late," Edgeworth said, "so I gave you an early meet time."

Gee thanks, Phoenix thought, "You shouldn't assume—you know what they say about people who assume."

"No," Edgeworth said, "What do they say?"

Phoenix just shook his head and started walking toward the courthouse. Edgeworth hesitated and then followed him.

"Do we have time to get coffee?" Phoenix asked.

"Yes," Edgeworth said, "Why are you dressed like a hobo?"

"Hobo?" Phoenix said, "Casual maybe—law student even, but not hobo."

"I was only asking, people are bound to recognize you here," Edgeworth said.

"So why are you dressed so… um… monochromatically?" Phoenix said.

"Monochrom—well," Edgeworth said, "My trousers are gray and my sweater is black and the white shirt makes three colors. Not monochromatic at all."

Well, another unbeliever who never took color theory, Phoenix thought. Not feeling the need to argue with Edgeworth about the difference between shades and hues, Phoenix only nodded and conceded the argument.

Edgeworth filled him in with the case background while they joined the line for coffee. An online dating service took information from several thousand couples and matched them up—that wasn't so strange these days—but this particular site catered to a specific demographic—reformed felons. Yeah, Phoenix thought, and they're surprised about the murders?

The suspect—an accounts manager for the web service—was indicted on the murder of two people. A couple honeymooning near Carmel who had initially met using the web service. The media claimed that, in total, there were as many as 17 victims.

"We wanted to go to trial quickly," Edgeworth said, "But we've re-opened several cold cases that we believe may be related to this. Criminal Affairs has a task force focused on this case alone."

"It seems like it would be a pretty cut and dry case for the Prosecution," Phoenix said, "Why aren't you prosecuting?"

Edgeworth only shrugged, "I don't do serial murders."

"But aren't they the most heinous criminals of all?" Phoenix said.

"I don't need this case, I don't have to prove myself to anyone," Edgeworth said and he looked away to face in the direction the line was moving. Phoenix ran his fingers through his spiked black hair and smiled a little. Was Edgeworth a little defensive?

"It has nothing to do with you losing your last two cases and then getting indicted for murder?"

"I was acquitted," Edgeworth said wagging his index finger in the air, "and no. In fact I was asked several times if I'd be willing to prosecute but for personal reasons, I declined."

Interesting, Phoenix thought, and as much as he was tempted to, he didn't ask what Edgeworth's 'personal reasons' were.

"Didn't you have a profile with that dating service?" Phoenix asked.

Edgeworth made a noise at him, something between a groan and a snarl, and crossed his arms.

The girl at the coffee stand wore glasses and a pleasant smile. Phoenix thought she was kind of cute.

"What can I get you, sir?" she said to Edgeworth and Phoenix leaned forward and stuck his head in the window in front of Edgeworth.

"We're together," he said, "Right, buddy?"

"Oh for cryin—you're worse than Gumshoe," Edgeworth said.

The girl put her hand over her mouth and laughed, it was cute, especially the way her eyes squeezed into little downturned crescents and her dark lashes touched her cheeks. Phoenix smiled at her. Edgeworth was glaring again.

"Small coffee and whatever he wants," Edgeworth said.

"Do you want cre—"

"No," Edgeworth cut her off.

"Don't mind him," Phoenix said, "He's colorblind, and so the world he lives in is pretty bleak."

"I am not color—"

"It's like living in a never-ending winter," Phoenix gave her the saddest look he could manage. The girl handed Edgeworth his coffee and smiled at Phoenix.

"What can I get you?"

"Phoenix."

"What?"

"You asked me what my name was right?"

"Oh," the girl said, "I was going to take your order…"

"I want the biggest choco-lotta-moo-cow latte you have," Phoenix said, "and a cinnamon roll."

"We don't serve lattes here," the girl said, "But I can add milk to a large coffee."

"And whipped cream and sprinkles?"

"Yeah," she said, "anything else?"

"My card," Phoenix said, and he took out his business card, and set it on the counter to write on the back of it, "My cell is on the back."

"Thanks," the girl said, "Here's your coffee—I mean latte, and your cinnamon roll. That's thirteen dollars and forty-seven cents with tax."

Phoenix grinned at Edgeworth who was muttering under his breath as he paid the girl.

"Oh, Phoenix," the girl said, "I'm Maggey."

Phoenix raised his cup as they walked up the courthouse steps and grinned at her. Edgeworth gave him a shove.

"You just hit on the coffee girl," he said incredulous, "She's what? Sixteen?"

"Lighten up, Edgey," Phoenix said.

Miles' dad didn't come until after midnight. Miles was asleep but Phoenix peeked out from under the covers as Mom and Mister Edgeworth came into his room. Mister Edgeworth was wearing Miles' backpack over one shoulder and it looked ridiculously small perched on his big shoulder.

Miles was exhausted after today, and Mom said it was because he hadn't been sleeping well all week. Phoenix didn't know why, but it made him a little jealous that Mom seemed worried about Miles. Mister Edgeworth knelt beside his son's sleeping bag on the floor and picked him up—sleeping bag and all—and carried him out like a baby.

Phoenix didn't know why, but he was compelled to follow the adults. He jumped out of his bed and snuck into the hall and stood at the wall where the hall emptied into the sitting room. Mister Edgeworth wore a long coat and thick horn-rimmed glasses. He was tall and towered over Mom and seeing Miles in his arms, still bundled in the sleeping bag, was sort of strange. Phoenix frowned though, he didn't have a dad to pick him up like that.

"What will you do for Christmas?" Mom asked Mister Edgeworth.

"We'll be alright," Mister Edgeworth said, "There's more to life than fancy dinners and lights and trees…"

"Gregory," Mom put her hand on Mister Edgeworth's arm, "It's for the children, and you can't brush it off like that. One day, you'll turn around and he'll be grown and he'll have lost any chance to build good memories. Don't do that to him."

"We'll be alright," Mister Edgeworth repeated, "Good night."

"Merry Christmas," Mom said, "The invitation still stands, if you decide to change your mind."

Mister Edgeworth turned back to her and smiled politely before fading into the shadows.

Mom closed the door and walked toward the sofa. She looked very sad. Phoenix came out of hiding and joined her on the sofa. She didn't say anything to him but put her arm around him.

"Are you okay, mom?" Phoenix said.

"Yeah," she said.

"What's going on, Mom? How come Miles is always here?" Phoenix asked.

"Mister Edgeworth is a Defense Attorney, and he's got a very important client. A famous Chef. The trial has been going on for a long time, but everyone feels it'll be over soon—so he's busier than he usually is. Miles' usually stays with his Aunt when his father is busy, but she's sick—very sick."

Phoenix was surprised, he didn't want to know quite that much, "Are they going to have Christmas Dinner with us?"

"I don't know, Nick," Mom said.

"Do you like Mister Edgeworth, mom?"

Mom laughed, "When did you learn to be so naughty? On Christmas Eve too."

"Well," Phoenix said, "Santa has his work cut out for him. It's too late for him to change his mind about me, isn't it?"

Mom rumpled his hair, "You're sneaky too."

"Mom, what would you do if Dad came back?"

"Phoenix," Mom frowned, "After this much time, I wouldn't hope for anything good."

"This was like the most boring Christmas ever," Phoenix said, "We should go somewhere next Christmas."

"Well, we'll just have to see," Mom said.

The courtroom was crowded, but somehow, Edgeworth seemed to have the hook-up. People moved aside for him and seats were reserved for him in the observer's seating. Their seats gave them a wide view of the courtroom and Phoenix was tickled to see the defense table from the prosecution's side.

"Do you know who's defending this clown?" Phoenix said flipping open the top of the box that held his cinnamon roll.

"Grossberg," Edgeworth said.

"Really?" Phoenix said, "Want some?"

"No," Edgeworth said.

"You don't want to share in the sweet taste of your investment?"

"Wright, stop it," Edgeworth said and he pulled a legal pad out of his attaché and readied himself to take notes.

"They're so good," Phoenix said, "You're missing out."

Edgeworth made a derisive noise.

"So, why would Grossberg take on such a hopeless case?"

Edgeworth shrugged, "Money, probably. Attorney's get paid whether they win or lose—at least, a well known one would."

Phoenix glared at Edgeworth, his cheek swollen with pastry, was Edgeworth making a crack at him? Edgeworth shot him a sidelong glance a small smile played on his lips.

"Pay attention, Wright," the trial is about to begin, "you might learn something. I think you'll find that this case is not as open and shut as it seems."

"Mmmph," Phoenix said and shoved another forkful of cinnamon roll into his mouth.

January 3, 10:00 A.M.

District Court

Courtroom No. 1

"Court is now in session for the trial of Mr. Shady K. Rector," the judge said.

"The prosecution is ready, Your Honor," Winston Payne said.

"That guy's still around?" Phoenix said.

"Your Honor, the Defense is quite prepared," Marvin Grossberg said.

"Marvin," the Judge said, "It's been a while."

"Yes it has been Your Honor," Grossberg replied, "But I assure you, I've still got it."

"I'm sure," the judge chuckled, "Now, shall we begin? Mr. Payne? Your opening statement?"

"Good morning," Payne said, "the defendant Mr. Rector, would have you believe that he is an upstanding citizen—a model citizen—and Mr. Rector would have you believe that he strives only to reform others who have lost their way. But Mr. Rector, is not being tried for his contributions to society. He's not on trial for his charity, philanthropy, or his general goodwill to all citizens. He is not on trial because he believes in second chances. No. Mr. Shady K. Rector is on trial for murder. Multiple murders—"

"OBJECTION!" Grossberg said, "Your honor, my client is on trial today for two murders. The defense asks that the prosecution refrain from implicating him in any other cases that have yet to be verified."

"Sustained," the Judge said, "Mr. Payne, please get on with it. The court doesn't wish to waste time on theatrics."

Phoenix's eyes glittered. Edgeworth frowned, "I warned him about that. People get silly when they know it's going to be on TV."

"Yes, Your Honor," Payne said, "The prosecution wishes to call it's first witness."

"Very well," the Judge said.

"This is going to be on TV?" Phoenix asked.

"Yes," Edgeworth said.

"The prosecution calls detective Bruce Goodman," Payne said, "Detective Goodman is the presiding detective on this investigation."

Detective Goodman walked up to the stand with a file under his arm. There was a hush over the courtroom as the bailiff swore him in. Then he took the stand.

"Ahem. Please state your name and occupation for the record," Payne said.

"Bruce Goodman. I'm a Detective in the Homicide Division of Criminal Affairs in this district. I was appointed by the Head Detective to lead the investigation in this case," Goodman said.

"Were you the first responder in this case?" Payne said.

"No," Goodman said.

"Will you relay the details of this case to the court?" Payne said.

"Yes," Goodman said, "On the morning of December 28th, the bodies of two victims, one male and one female were discovered on a private beach in Carmel, California. A tourist, staying in the same resort as the two victims, made the discovery. He was the one who phoned the local police. A preliminary autopsy revealed that both victims died of strangulation. The male victim was identified by Carmel Police to be Joe W. Bloe and the female as his wife Ami Bloe—formally Ami Krassy. Both victims have had past convictions and prison time on their records. The two of them met on an online dating service called Reformed and Reborn dot com. This service caters exclusively to former convicts. The defendant Mr. Shady K. Rector is one of the founders of this web service and currently works as the Lead Accounts Manager. On the date in question, Mr. Shady K. Rector was absent from his workplace. Mr. Rector—as Lead Accounts Manager—was the only one who had access to all profiles registered with the website."

"Whoa…" Phoenix said.

"See, it's rather complicated," Edgeworth said.

"I don't see how you placed Mr. Rector at the scene of the murders," the Judge said.

"Your Honor," Payne said, "We have the guest records for the hotel stating that a John Doe checked into the resort at approximately 4:28 P.M. on December 26 and did not check out until 11:47 P.M. on the 27th. John Doe paid in cash when he checked out. At 4:17 P.M. on December 26th, the ATM in the hotel lobby registered a transaction for the amount of $1102.25 from Mr. Rector's account. This places Mr. Rector at the scene on the afternoon before the murder. This photo, taken from the ATM camera, also confirms that the guest registered as 'John Doe' was the same person who used the ATM—Mr. Shady K. Rector."

Phoenix put his cinnamon roll box on the floor and took a notepad from his briefcase.

"Hey Edgeworth," he said, "Let me borrow a pen."

"Eww no," Edgeworth said, "Your hands are all sticky."

"They are not," Phoenix said, "I had a fork."

Edgeworth leaned down to grab a pen from his bag and reluctantly handed it over.

"Well, that's pretty convincing evidence," the Judge said, "I don't think we really need to prolong this trial—"

"OBJECTION!" Grossberg said, "Your Honor, while the prosecution has firmly established the presence of my client at the facility in which the murder occurred, there is no evidence to suggest that my client had any interaction with the victims."

"OBJECTION!" Payne said, "He managed accounts for the web service that brought Joe Bloe and Ami Krassy together. He knew their personal information—"

"OBJECTION!" Grossberg said, "He was successful! With an online dating service, there is no higher testament of success than marriage. He was planning to use their testimonial in his ad campaign. Why would Mr. Rector kill his own clientele? He had absolutely nothing to gain, and therefore no motive!"

Grossberg's jowls quivered in the passion of his argument and Phoenix put a hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh. Edgeworth glared at him.

"See," he hissed, "Now you've got a sugar high."

"OBJECTION!" Payne said, "No one else in that resort new both victims! AND the defendant has a criminal history!"

Edgeworth put his head down, thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose, and groaned.

"What is it?" Phoenix asked.

"Payne tends to lose it when he's excited," Edgeworth said, "The defendant's history is not on trial. What we want to prove is that he did indeed kill that couple."

"Do you think he's guilty?" Phoenix asked, "Because Grossberg made several good points."

"But why would you pay for two nights at a resort and then leave early?" Edgeworth said.

Phoenix frowned.

"Sometimes the easy road is fraught with greater danger," Edgeworth said cryptically.

Phoenix made at face at him, but Edgeworth was glaring at Payne. Payne was tapping his bald spot and even from their vantage, Phoenix could tell that the man was starting to sweat.

"I see. So there is a lot more ground to cover in this case," the Judge said, "Detective Goodman,"

"Yes, Your Honor," Goodman replied.

"I want to hear your testimony on how the murder occurred," the judge said.

"How?" Goodman said, "Yes, Your Honor. The victims were discovered on the beach at 8 A.M. both with ligatures still wrapped around their throats. The initial autopsy confirmed that strangulation was the cause of death for both victims. Later toxicology reports also revealed that both victims had a cocktail of prescription and illegal drugs and alcohol in their systems. However, though the victims were both very intoxicated, the report ruled out overdose as the cause of death. Drowning was also ruled out as the cause of death."

"Ah," Edgeworth said, "I've got it. He's guilty."

"What?" Phoenix said, "All that testimony did was build a bigger mystery…"

"Yes," Edgeworth said, "That's probably why Payne shied away from using it in the first place."

"Mr. Grossberg," the Judge said, "Your cross-examination."

"Okay," Phoenix said, "So tell me what you think happened?"

"Detective," Grossberg said, "Can you elaborate on the 'ligature' that you said was found on the victims' necks?"

"Rope," Edgeworth said, "like the kind used for securing small motorized boats."

"Rope," Detective Goodman said, "Thick rope, used to tie up boats."

"The defendant invited them onto the boat, two of his most successful clients," Edgeworth said, "They were already high on some mixture of opiate prescription drugs and probably a tranquilizer—I didn't look at the toxicology report."

"And detective," Grossberg continued, "You said a toxicology report was done on the victims?"

"They were drinking—a lot—it was just after their Christmas wedding after all. Rector made a move on Ami—but the blushing new bride wasn't having it—she'd already found her perfect match. Embarrassed and worried that the couple would talk, he strangled her with his hands and when Joe came looking for her, Rector killed him too. He tied the rope around their necks and dropped them into the water and then came back to shore, hoping it would look like a drowning. When he came ashore, he cut the rope and they washed onto the beach, where our tourist found them. That's why he left the hotel before midnight, he wanted to get as far away as he could." Edgeworth smiled a little and pointed at Phoenix.

"Yes, sir," Goodman said, "the Toxicology report revealed elevated levels of 3-methylmorphine, barbituric acid, MDMA, and sildenafil citrate. Blood alcohol was also elevated. Though the levels in the blood of both victims was significant it was determined that the presence of these substances were not fatal."

"I don't believe you," Phoenix said.

"But how intoxicated were they?" Grossman said, "I don't speak gobbledygook, detective, can you clarify?"

"Isn't it obvious? Why didn't Grossberg ask about the rope? Or the boat? He's protecting his client." Edgeworth said.

"You're the only one who's said anything about a boat," Phoenix said.

"Yes," the Judge said, "I've never even heard of gobbledygook."

"Yes, okay," Goodman said, "Bloe's BAC was above 0.2 percent—that's high enough to cause a stupor. Not to mention the presence of 3-methylmorphine—which is an opiate most likely found in prescription medications. MDMA is more commonly known as Ecstasy, which is an illegal drug, used recreationally. It can cause euphoria and stimulate mood. Sildenafil Citrate is not something we normally test for, but based on medications we found in the victim's room, we asked for it to be included. It's a… Um…"

"A drug that treats erectile dysfunction," Edgeworth said.

Phoenix glared at him, "How do you know that? What have you been doing?"

Edgeworth blushed, "I read the case file—don't be stupid!"

The judge pounded his gavel.

"Order, please! Go on detective."

"The most common brand name is Viagra," Goodman choked out.

"I see," said the Judge, "They were really partying."

"Wow, that Judge can be such a creepy old man sometimes," Phoenix said.

"So detective," Grossberg said, "With that much garbage in their system, do you think it likely that these two were very much in control of their actions that night? It was night, correct?"

"Wait," said the Judge, "When did you officially establish time of death?"

"Uh," Goodman looked at the Judge and then at Grossberg.

"Go on, detective, answer the Judge."

"But another thing is also perfectly clear," Edgeworth said.

"What's that?" Phoenix said.

"This isn't a serial murder," Edgeworth said.

"The time of death was determined to be between the hours of 10:00 P.M.-11:30 P.M. on the night of December 27th," Goodman said, "And no, Mr. Grossberg, the victims were not in any condition to make sound judgment."

"And would you agree detective," Grossberg said, "that it is quite possible that the victims merely died in an unfortunate accident?"

"Um," Goodman said.

"Object you idiot!" Edgeworth said.

Phoenix waved his notepad in Payne's direction and the nervous prosecutor glanced up to see him and Edgeworth mouthing the word "Objection" and pointing.

"It's possible that the two of them—"

"OBJECTION!" Payne said, "The cause of death was strangulation! How can they have 'accidentally' strangled themselves?"

"They were found tangled in ropes!" Grossberg said.

"Oh, right," said the Judge.

"B-b-but!" Payne said.

"Your Honor," Grossberg said, "My client happened to be at the wrong place at the right time. True, he has a passing connection to both victims, but he has over two thousand clients. These victims were obviously in no condition to go boating and yet they chose to do so—in the middle of the night no less. Their deaths were simply a tragic accident."

The judge pounded the gavel, "Very well, does the prosecution have a rebuttal?"

"He better have one!" Edgeworth said. Phoenix frowned at him, he'd never seen Edgeworth so livid—at least not up close. Was this what he was like when they faced off in court? Edgeworth slammed his clenched fists into the legal pad on his lap. Edgeworth's eyes were focused on Payne as if he could telepathically send him the right thing to say.

Phoenix cleared his throat, "Uh, relax Edgeworth, I think the judge is staring at us."

Edgeworth glared at the Judge instead and Phoenix saw the old man startle. Edgeworth's eye twitched and Phoenix swallowed.

"Well?" the Judge pounded his gavel again, "I will allow a ten minute recess, so that the prosecution can think about this rebuttal. Meanwhile, the two hooligans sitting front and left—you know who you are—I want to see you in my chambers immediately! Ten minute recess." He slammed his gavel down once more and the courtroom erupted in chatter.

"Hooligans?" Edgeworth said.

"Does he mean us?" Phoenix said.

"I think so," Edgeworth said.

They got up and Phoenix saw Edgeworth slap Payne with his legal pad as they passed the prosecution's table. He dropped his pad when he did so but did not stop to retrieve it.

"What's going on?" Phoenix said.

"Hopefully, he just tells us to leave and we won't be held in contempt," Edgeworth said.

"Why—?"

"Apparently we're hooligans," Edgeworth said.

The bailiff gave them a baleful stare as they passed and Phoenix let Edgeworth knock on the chamber door. The old man was frowning behind his desk. Phoenix had never seen him without his robes and he must've had a shocked look on his face, because the Judge rounded on him first.

"This is a courtroom not a playground!" The Judge said. Phoenix stepped back from the desk a few steps.

"Your Honor," Edgeworth said, "I'm dreadfully sorry for any disruption we might have caused, I assure you—"

"Edgeworth! Is that you?" The Judge grinned and Phoenix took another step back.

"Yes, Your honor," Edgeworth said.

"Who's this miscreant? Are you friends?"

"Your Honor, this is Phoenix Wright," Edgeworth said.

"Oh, that sounds familiar," the Judge said.

Phoenix sulked, didn't this guy preside over the Hammond Murder Trial less than a week ago—a trial that he, Phoenix Wright, had won?

"Well," the Judge said, "It's buzzing in the courtroom today—because of this Honeymoon Case. The television station is here even. I can't have you two in my courtroom whispering to each other during the trial. It's unseemly and distracting. This is a warning, do not return after this recess, or you two will be held in contempt. Understand?"

"Yes, Your honor," Edgeworth said and Phoenix noticed that his face looked heated. Edgeworth was really upset.

"And you?" The Judge looked at Phoenix and Phoenix backed into a bookcase.

"Y-yes Your Honor," Phoenix said.

"Oh and Edgeworth, I will tell Von Karma about this," the Judge said.

"Yes, Your Honor," Edgeworth said and he seemed to cool down a little.

"Is he going to visit him in prison?" Phoenix asked.

Edgeworth was still sulking as they descended the courthouse steps.

"He won't remember to tell him anything," Edgeworth said.

"I'm sorry, Edgeworth," Phoenix said, "I shouldn't have come."

Edgeworth shook his head, "I shouldn't have come."

"But you love this, stuff," Phoenix said, "Right? Don't you?"

"That Rector is a murderer," Edgeworth said, "But Grossberg is good—really good. He's probably going to go free."

"For now, maybe," Phoenix said, "But justice will prevail."

"Not if we can't drag the truth out of Rector," Edgeworth said, "Justice is a myth. It's subjective. But truth is tangible, you can touch it, taste it."

"I would really like to taste some lunch," Phoenix said and stopped at the bottom of the courthouse steps.

Edgeworth crossed his arms and kept walking. Phoenix frowned, Edgeworth was walking like a wounded man. He wasn't even prosecuting this trial, Phoenix caught him and put his hand on Edgeworth's shoulder. Edgeworth seemed to go rigid at his touch.

"Hey," Phoenix said, "You can't be at all of them. You won't catch every bad guy. Not by yourself."

"Get your hand off of me Wright," Edgeworth said.

"Are you going to be angry at me, now?" Phoenix said but he took his hand away and crossed his arms. He stared intently at Edgeworth's face willing the other man to look at him.

"This is why, I've decided not to take another case," Phoenix said, and Edgeworth finally looked at him. "I don't like this. I feel like I eat sleep and breathe this crap all day everyday and that I'm watered down from it. I can't be me anymore."

"This is the only thing I am," Edgeworth replied.

A/N: Thanks for Reading!

Another Phoenix Chapter… Maggey would've been 20 or 21 at that point. Yeah, Phoenix being a scrub is a little OoC… But sometimes it just happens…

I chose Goodman as my detective in the trial, because I just couldn't imagine Gumshoe describing a toxicology report.

4July2015-Edited for minor discrepancies.