Chapter 30

Letting Her Win

"Prosecutor Edgeworth," Chief Skye said, "I did have one other thing I wanted to ask you about."

Miles didn't remove his hand from the doorknob—he was already feeling anxious about being alone with her in her office—he just wanted to get out of a suddenly very awkward environment. He always felt a little silly when he was alone with Chief.

"It's about Manfred Von Karma," she said stonily, "Please, sit back down."

Miles balked for a moment and then returned to the commanding leather sofa and sat down, blushing when the leather made rude noises beneath him.

When he looked up at her, Chief looked like she wanted to laugh—his blush must have deepened because she actually let out a chuckle before fixing a cold stony gaze on him.

"Well," Miles said focusing intently on his hands.

"Do you know where he went?" She wasted no time on pleasantry.

"Uh," Miles said—Mister Von Karma had ordered him to keep quiet about his latest trip abroad. He never even told Miles why he was going—Miles had only discovered the location by accident; and only because they still maintained a close proximity to each other while at work.

"I'm not really sure," he said finally, still refusing to meet Chief's eye.

"You're not sure?" Chief said and crossed her arms, "That seems odd—you wouldn't lie to me, would you Edgeworth?"

Miles' brow furrowed—he had always had trouble lying—uncertainty was the best cover he could come up with, "Yeah Mister Von Karma doesn't always tell me his personal business."

"Doesn't he?" Chief said and Miles bit the inside of his lip.

She got up from her desk and sat beside him on the sofa. It made more embarrassing noises as she slid in very close beside him.

"Tell me Edgeworth, why are you so loyal to Prosecutor Von Karma—he's not very nice to you is he?"

"He's… He's fine," Miles said, "We have a long history—he's ever been a mentor and… and... Well, a mentor..."

Chief snorted with derision, "You're a very strange young man, Prosecutor Edgeworth," she said.

"Oh, I suppose," Miles said with a forced laugh—he slid away from her. Chief seemed to take the hint and stood up to pace in front of him.

"Chief Gant—over at the police department—he told me that Von Karma had presented 'questionable' evidence in the Mertaugh trial last week. So I've been conducting an internal investigation here—we can't trace it. What do you know about this questionable evidence?"

Miles frowned up at her with no small measure of defiance, "He's a genius—those rumors are unfounded. Mister Von Karma would never—"

Chief clicked her tongue in irritation, "Miles we all know how much you love Von Karma—but you can't blind yourself to what's actually going on. There was something very suspicious about the Murtaugh case—and this wasn't the first questionable incident either."

Miles had nothing to say to that but he frowned at his hands.

"Some of your cases are starting to take on the same stink as Von Karma's—and you're not quite so big a fish as Manfred Von Karma."

Miles stood at what he thought sounded a lot like a threat and bristled at his boss's boss.

"Chief Skye, I assure you that I've followed every written procedure affecting my trials. I would never allow falsified—"

"Not if you knew about it," Chief said with a quiet calm that unnerved him all the more. Miles just stared at her—had he presented falsified evidence or testimony in any of his trials? How could he know?

"Mister Von Karma would never allow such illegal actions…" Miles said quietly as if trying to convince himself. He looked up at Chief pleadingly.

"You're a good kid Edgeworth," Chief Skye said and turned away from him, "But you need to choose sides—because you won't be able to hide in Manfred Von Karma's shadow for ever."

Miles nodded, he wasn't sure how to respond to that. He left her office without a parting. The only thing he got out of that was the beginning of a doubt—and doubt was a very destructive force in this line of work.

Miles got in early this morning—aside from security, no one else was in the building with him. There were four levels of the municipal building set aside for the District Attorney—floors nine through twelve. The other twenty floors when to other departments in the district—Commerce, Water and Sewage, Public Works—what have you. Miles had never felt the need to explore all of them—although he had been forced to walk through the Public Works department once because Detective Gumshoe had gotten lost. That had been very eye opening.

The first thing he did—after starting the kettle and the computer—was review his case for the Honeymoon Trial. Nothing was going to prevent him getting his conviction this time. Miles Edgeworth had planned for anything. The delay was frustrating and the defense had given no reply as to the expected trial date.

He flipped through the evidence list and compared them with his reports and his own notes. Then he spotted something.

"The one factor that held up the last trial—the Sheinheilig brothers were twins…" Miles said aloud, "But are they identical?"

It certainly seemed the case in the childhood photo the defense had proffered up. However, despite the obvious resemblance the two men shared as brothers, they certainly didn't look like identical twins.

"Aha!" Miles said and picked up his phone and dialed.

It rang several times before a groggy Gumshoe answered the call.

"Hello?"

"Gumshoe, I need you to get a sample from Albert Sheinheilig and run it up to the lab—I want a full DNA profile."

"Urm," Gumshoe muttered, "It's like five in the morning…"

"Five forty-seven," Miles said glancing at his watch, "It's rather closer to six o'clock, I'd say. Can you—"

"Mister Edgeworth, it's six a.m.! Nothing is open yet—the sun hasn't risen yet."

"Oh, right," Miles said turning to glance at the sky through the window, "Well, set yourself a reminder—I want to make sure it's being processed before the end of the day."

"Roger," Gumshoe replied half-heartedly.

"Gumshoe, did I really just wake you up?"

"Yes," Gumshoe said.

"Shouldn't you be on your way to work by now?"

"Er," the detective grumbled on the other line, "I was on my way…"

"I'd like you to come by here about nine o'clock," Miles said, "I'm sure most of these case files will need to go back to your department."

"Yes sir," Gumshoe said.

"Very well, then," Miles said, "I'll see you then."

"Yes sir," Gumshoe said, "And Mister Edgeworth?"

"Why are you in there before six a.m.?"

"Never mind that," Miles snapped and he hung up the phone.

He finished checking and rechecking through his files for the Honeymoon case and then set everything neatly aside. There was a box on the floor near his desk and Miles went to pick it up and put it on his desk. He pulled the lid off and peered inside. Miles shrugged out of his jacket and pulled his sleeves up and then he got to work.

He flipped through each case and examined the police work and the conclusions they'd settled on. A child missing; another racehorse stolen; a single homicide. three shootings in public places—one with multiple victims, and a few others not quite so glamorous.

He took notes on each case—studying everything provided in the case files—and made a few comments to whom ever would be investigating further. He wrote them by hand on a yellow legal pad. He preferred to write these by hand, typing on the computer just felt inefficient.

When Miles had finished his analysis of the first case he tore the notes off of the pad and reached toward a cup on his desk where he kept his paperclips. He only brought out one, but the others in the cup all came out with it—someone had decided to link all of his paperclips together. Miles muttered a curse under his breath, and spent the next forty minutes separating all of the paperclips and dropping them back into the cup. Then he proceeded through the pile of case files in front of him. At about ten after eight he had completed the task and had all of the files placed neatly into the box—bored, Miles decided they ought to be in chronological order as well.

At eight twenty he stood and finished the current cup of tea and then began pacing his office. By this time, the bright, jovial morning sun had risen and a cheery golden light filled his office. Miles tugged the shades closed to lessen the distracting light. He picked up his kettle and his teapot and brought them into the bathroom.

Miles had just returned with the freshly filled kettle and a washed out teapot when someone knocked on his door. He'd been expecting Detective Gumshoe, so when he saw her he stared at her for a moment and then shut the door.

"Miles!" she said the pitch of her voice rose high in complaint.

"I'm very busy right now Maddy, I can't—"

"Open the door, Miles," she said.

Miles grumbled for a few moments before opening the door again. She followed him silently seething as he led her to the sofa. Miles refused to sit beside her.

"I don't have time for this," Miles said, "I'm in the middle of—"

"Oh darling, if I wait for you to find some free time, we'll never get the chance to settle this."

Miles glared at her and leaned slightly bent against his desk, arms crossed.

"You look very well, Miles," Maddy said.

"As do you," Miles replied stiffly.

"Well see there, darling? Isn't it nice to have a civil conversation?"

Miles shook his head, "I thought we'd already settled this."

"Miles," Maddy said and she looked up at him over the top of her sunglasses. She lifted her left hand and waggled her fingers at him, "I was wrong, darling. I'm sorry."

"No," Miles said, "Just give it back. I don't want anything else to do with you."

"Oh Miles," she said, "Why are you so heartless?"

"I'm heartless? You're the one who left me—on Christmas no less!"

"Everyone is prone to making poor decisions sometimes, darling," Maddy said and she pulled off her sunglasses to stare up at him. Miles met her stare directly and swallowed. Then he looked away.

"Yes," he said, "I made a poor decision when I agreed to enter into a relationship with the likes of you."

Maddy pouted—Miles found it maddening. Naturally, he was flooded with relief when another knock sounded at his door. Miles didn't spare Maddy a glance as he moved to answer it.

"Detective Gumshoe!" Miles said with a very forced cheeriness. The detective was chuckling as he entered the office. Gumshoe peered curiously at Maddy.

"Oh, is it a bad time, Mister Edgeworth?"

"Not at all," Miles said, "Miss Tailor was just leave—"

"Miles, dear," Maddy interjected, "You go ahead and finish what you need to, I have time. I'll wait darling."

Miles glared at her and she smirked back and slipped on her sunglasses.

"So Mister Edgeworth," Gumshoe said with a self-satisfied grin, "I ran a swab from the brother over to the lab and they said they'd be able to get the profile to you by the end of the week."

Miles rubbed his chin and frowned, "And that's the earliest?"

"Yeah pal—Mister Edgeworth, sir," Gumshoe said, "I'm pretty sure these things can take much longer in most cases."

"I never thought I'd say this," Miles said, "but I hope the trial is postponed long enough for them to complete their analysis."

Miles frowned as he noticed the detective's eyes flipping from his face to where Maddy was lounging on his sofa.

"Detective," Miles said, he motioned toward the file box on his desk, "that needs to go back to criminal affairs—not a single one of those is ready to go to trial."

Gumshoe met his eye and frowned and then glanced toward Maddy again, "Hey, is that your girlfriend?"

Miles grimaced at him, "No she's not."

"Oh," Gumshoe said absently, "She's very pretty. I thought she was a movie st—"

"If you feel like you don't need to listen to me, I won't feel the need to provide a favorable quarterly report…"

"Sorry, sir," Gumshoe said and he rubbed his neck and moved to pick up the box on Miles' desk. Miles shot a glance at Maddy who was trying to look busy by turning pages on a tiny pocket calendar book she kept with her. Miles had an idea suddenly, and he almost smiled—almost.

Gumshoe had already picked up the box and was walking toward the door when Miles spoke up.

"I would be grateful if you would return my property to me," Miles said aloud.

"Miles, don't you start—" Maddy protested.

"If you refuse, I'll be forced to consider this a theft."

"Miles, this is nothing of the sort—"

"Did you take something from Mister Edgeworth?" Gumshoe said rounding on Maddy.

"I most certainly did not!" Maddy said incredulously.

Miles' brow furrowed significantly and he waggled a finger at her, "Do you or do you not continue to retain physical control of the ring—a ring of considerable monetary and sentimental value and a long time heirloom of the Edgeworth family? Well? Are you going to answer or not Maddy?"

Maddy tore the sunglasses off of her face, "Miles you gave it to me when you—"

"That is no longer going to happen, Maddy. I suggest you return the ring to me and also that you refrain from contacting me in any manner from this day forward."

Detective Gumshoe had already set the files down on the floor at his feet and was scribbling manically into his little notepad. He paused and looked at Miles.

"Mister Edgeworth, you gave her a ring? Were you going to marry her?"

"Not now Gumshoe," Miles said and he crossed his arms gravely, "this is a very serious matter."

"Hey Pal," Gumshoe continued, "You never said anything to anybody."

"Detective," Maddy said, "It's true, Miles Edgeworth was going to marry me on Valentine's Day on a beach in Belize—"

"I never agreed to go to Belize!" Miles said.

"All you complained about were the bugs! How do you know there are so many bugs there? Huh? You've never been! DAR-ling!"

"Well sweet-HEART! You never really cared what I wanted, did you? You just followed your own plan with everything! Never mind that I get seasick! Never mind that I despise all of your vapid entourage! You know," Miles said, "I don't know who wanted me in the family more—you or you're father!"

"Didn't I prove it to you, DEAR?!" Maddy was standing now, "How often did you cancel our dates so you could stay here and play errand boy to that Manfred Von—"

"Don't lecture me on doing my job!" Miles jabbed his finger at her.

They continued back and forth for several minutes and Miles didn't notice Gumshoe staring at the two of them; mouth open and eyes wide in shock. Nor did he notice when the big detective picked up the file box and left his office.

They were both out of breath and hoarse when it ended, but they continued to glare at each other maliciously from opposite sides of the room.

Maddy sighed and put her glasses back on; she looked like she was going to cry. Miles gritted his teeth—he kind of wanted to see her cry. Then he felt guilty for wanting to see that.

Finally Maddy raised her chin and brushed at her hair where it had fallen over her face during their bickering. Miles copied her subconsciously—dragging a hand through his hair to push it away from his face.

In the end she tugged the ring off of her finger and dropped it unceremoniously into his hand. Then she departed his office with no final word and no lingering departing glance. Miles exhaled in relief and leaned against his desk to collect his thoughts.

Miles was putting the ring—now safely placed in its velvet box—in his locked private drawer, when he was startled by another knock at his door. He didn't have a chance to acknowledge before Chief Skye let herself in.

"Good morning, Prosecutor Edgeworth," she said with a small smile.

"Chief," Miles acknowledged.

"Are you well? You look a little flustered," she said.

"I'm very well," Miles said, "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Hmm," she began, "I just got off the phone with the Chief Detective—he said you kicked back every case they'd presented this week."

"They weren't ready to go to trial," Miles said simply.

"None of them?"

"I'm not going to lose another case," Miles said, "and neither are any of the prosecutors under my purview. That means we need to pressure the police department to conduct more thorough investigations."

"Well," Chief said and she turned to face the door, but instead of departing, she leaned against his desk and crossed her arms, "I don't think I can fault you for that. You know I've always appreciated your meticulous attention to detail."

Miles didn't reply, he just stared at her back and felt his ears go hot with embarrassment.

"So," She continued, "Edgeworth, I had a phone call from someone else as well."

"Oh?" Miles said and wondered why he should care at all.

"Franziska Von Karma," Chief said.

Miles frowned but didn't say anything. He startled a little when Chief turned to look at him directly.

"She asked me if it was at all possible to shift your caseload, because she hasn't had very much time to spend with her brother."

Miles frowned at his desktop—his own face frowned back up at him.

"So I looked at the docket and found that you aren't quite so busy as all that," she said.

"Chief, I—"

"Don't worry Miles, I see you working your little heart out everyday," she smiled at him and somehow that only made him more nervous.

"I have an order out with a lab at—"

"Is it for Honeymoon?"

"Well, yes but—"

"We still don't have a date for when that trial will resume," Chief Skye said, "there seems to be a problem with the defense."

"Oh," Miles said.

"I think you should spend time with Franziska—we'll call you if and when Honeymoon goes back to court."

Miles frowned. She stood and started walking back toward the door, "Get out of here, Edgeworth."

"Sure, Chief," Miles said, "I just need to finish up in here."

Miles thought he heard her giggle at that. She already had the door open when she turned toward him a final time, "I might check on you in a day or two—make sure you're staying out of trouble."

When the door closed behind her he slumped in his seat—he didn't know what to make of that.

"Blue Corp Edgeworth, tell me you've heard of it!"

Miles was still hunched pitifully in one of the chairs Mister Von Karma had for guests in front of his massive desk. He sat with his chin in his hand, looking a lot like a dog that'd been beaten too often.

It had been three days since he lost his first trial. Miles had made a valiant effort to avoid a direct interaction like the one they were having now. The thought of jumping through Mister Von Karma's window seemed pleasant compared to the dread he had of Mister Von Karma's wrath—and worse—his disappointment.

"Yes," Miles said, almost inaudibly.

"That's a third of my information resource," Mister Von Karma said.

Miles might have been startled by the revelation if he wasn't in fear of his very life. Mister Von Karma was probably going to kill him. Never mind that the girl was set up. Never mind that Phoenix Wright wasn't anywhere near the site of the murder when it happened. With what he'd been given, Miles felt that in spite of his loss, the trial had come to its most reasonable conclusion. Wasn't that enough?

"...only on his second trial. You have far more experience—far more training! How could you—"

" I feel like the case was poorly investigated," Miles began, but Mister Von Karma rounded on him again before he could finish.

"Stop trying to blame others for your inability!"

"I won't let it happen—"

"What difference does it make Edgeworth? You've already lost. You will never have a perfect record—never! All of the effort and time and money I've spent trying to mold you into something better than—"

Miles stood, "I'm sorry, sir."

"I already know that," Mister Von Karma snapped at him.

"I should go now, sir," Miles said.

"Where are you going now? To see your little girlfriend? Maybe that's the problem, Edgeworth. You've let yourself get distracted and lazy."

Miles met Mister Von Karma's eye for only a moment and then he turned and rushed out of the office. He stopped by his office to grab his briefcase and started down the stairs in a rush. Mister Von Karma's words still echoed forcefully in his mind.

He arrived the courthouse much sooner than he'd anticipated, but wasted no time jogging up the steps and into the grand building. He didn't understand what had happened really—everything seemed to go so fast during that trial. The only way Miles knew to fully understand a problem like this was to study precedents.

He jogged through the courthouse halls until he found the records room. He'd stay until they kicked him out—like he'd done yesterday and the day before.

His phone rang after nine o'clock that evening. He groaned at the distraction but startled at the time. He answered the phone—it was Maddy.

"Darling? Are you still at work?"

"Yes," Miles said hearing Mister Von Karma's tirade in the back of his mind—distracted and lazy.

"Really, Miles, this is starting to get ridiculous," Maddy said, "What could possibly warrant the hours you've been putting in? Didn't you already finish your last case?"

Miles rubbed his face in irritation, "Just—Maddy, I need to do this. Just please try to understand."

"Now look, darling," Maddy said, "You have to understand me. I haven't seen you in six days—I'm not even sure what you look like anymore. Daddy says you'll drive yourself crazy—or worse—sick. I'm very worried about you."

Miles didn't know how to respond—but he was very touched by her concern. "I-I'm sorry Maddy… I'll call you tomorrow."

"But Miles—"

"I can't right now," Miles said. He pulled the phone away from his head. There was a picture of her on the screen, and her voice—small and muffled at that distance—still chattered through excitedly. Miles frowned at her picture and then touched the 'end call' button.

Distracted and lazy.

Despite the order to make this an early day, Miles still found himself occupied until late in the afternoon. After all, if he was going to be gone, there were preparations to be made in advance of his absence. Lana Skye did not escape his thoughts on the drive home either. He never knew what to make of her interactions with him.

Miles parked in the garage under his building and sighed at the steering wheel and the shining buttons and gauges on the console. Sometimes it seemed he had a friend in her and someone to protect him. Sometimes he felt he was being manipulated.

He leaned back in his seat and ran his hands over his face and then through his hair. His phone rang and startled him. He frowned at it and then answered.

"Hello…" he said wearily.

Franziska seemed excited about something, but Miles didn't wait for her to finish even her first sentence, "I'm down in the garage. I'll be up shortly."

He hung up before she could respond. He sighed once more before opening the door letting it swing out heavily. For such a small coupe, it had very long doors. He dragged himself out of the car slowly and then leaned back in to grab his briefcase from where he'd set it on the floor in front of the passenger's seat and then his jacket that was draped over the passenger seat. He closed the door with a hip and set down his briefcase to slide his jacket back on.

He paused to stare at his car; he kind of felt like going out for a drive—a real drive; one where he could send all 215 horses running. Miles' thumb hovered over the unlock button on his key fob.

"Little Brother!" Miles hadn't heard the elevator ding, but he heard her running across the garage. He hadn't even the chance to look at her before she slammed into him wrapping both arms tight around his waist.

"Stop!" He said, "You almost knocked the air out of me."

"Did you talk to Lana today?"

"I did have a chat with Chief Prosecutor Skye?" Miles said pointedly. He pulled away from her and straightened his jacket.

"This means we can go visit Papa tomorrow," she said.

"Franziska!" Miles said wearily, "We'll talk about this later."

"Oh stop stalling Miles," she scolded, "You're such a coward sometimes."

Miles made a face at her that she seemed to miss. But she took his arm enthusiastically and led him toward the stairwell.

"Guess what?" She said.

"No," Miles said.

"I was cooking with Mrs. Kucharka today."

"I'm glad you didn't burn down the building," he said and received a punch in the ribs in reply.

"Miles Edgeworth I assure you, I am very talented in many areas—unlike you."

"I can cook," Miles said, "I toast bread—all kinds of bread. I can pour milk over cereal—"

"Stop being an idiot," Franziska said and he smiled at her.

"I can boil water," he continued.

She made an exasperated noise and then continued, "We made your favorite for dinner. I'll bet you can't wait. Are you hungry little brother?"

"I'm always hungry," Miles said.

"Because you never eat," Franziska said.

"Because you frighten me," he said, "I'm afraid to leave my room."

"Well, you'll like dinner tonight—I give you permission to have two plates if you would like."

"And if I wanted more?"

"No Miles," she said, "You'll get fat."

"So what's for dinner anyway?"

"Your favorite."

"Pancakes?"

"No—you're such an idiot. I made you goulash—you love it!"

"What's gou—"

"Nuh-unh little brother, it's your favorite. We'll have goulash tonight and then we can play cards and you'll sleep well. Then tomorrow we'll visit Papa."

Miles shook his head and sighed, "Very well, then."

A/N: Thanks for Reading!

The first flashback is from about a year and a half ago, Miles is 22 or 23. Chief Skye has one of those smooth leather farting sofas—and Miles is kind of a prude.

Second flashback follows the second trial in PW:AA…

Miles finally got through to Maddy—but now Gumshoe knows about his relationship with her. Le sigh.

More creepiness from his boss. Why? Because conspiracy!

It's goulash! You love it!

UPDATED 9JUL2015 – OMG there was a whole chunk of copy and paste story I had to cut out! (I copy and paste a lot because of the formatting in this story) I'm surprised no one mentioned it (but then, this thing has almost no reviews compared to its size...)

Anyway, it's fixed. And Goulash! You love it!