Chapter 50
My Father's House
"Oh wow Papa!" Franziska clapped as she hopped out of the late model Mercedes Benz her father drove. "It is so beautiful!" She was giddy as she ran in the drive, right up to the heavy double doors at the mansion's entrance.
Miles got out of the car and looked up at the estate's post-modern facade and frowned. He thought it was ugly.
"Franziska," Mister Von Karma scolded, "You don't need to behave like an imbecile."
Even the nasty comment failed at suppressing her effervescence, and she hopped excitedly in front of the door, "Hurry! I want to see inside!"
The doors opened and a somber looking servant in gray livery came out and paused to prop them open. He nodded at Mister Von Karma but didn't seem to notice Miles as he went to remove their luggage from the car.
"Oh! How many rooms does it have?"
"It has rooms enough, girl!" Mister Von Karma said.
He followed his daughter inside and disappeared into the mansion. Miles gazed around the courtyard, hesitating before following them inside.
The place was beautifully but impersonally furnished. Everything from the cushions on the chairs to the books on the shelves looked staged. Evidently, Mister Von Karma had also hired a decorator.
The house was cold and despite the lavish furnishings and the exacting decor, it felt derelict. There was no life in this house.
Miles stood in the grand foyer just inside the main doors and looked around, hands in his pockets. As much as he disliked the stuffy old castle in Germany, he was already certain he'd much rather be there than here.
He could hear Franziska's excited footsteps clatter on the marble stairs. Mister Von Karma's gravelly baritone rang incoherently after her. Miles started walking, noting the grand balustrades with their thick, intricately carved pillars marking the second floor loft. There were many high large windows allowing the maximum of penetration from the California sun.
Miles passed by the open great hall with its heavy formal dining table and frowned. The exterior was very modern—very American. But the inside reminded him of the Von Karma estate in Germany.
"Miles Edgeworth," Miles looked up to see Mister Von Karma glaring down at him from the second floor, "What are you doing?"
Miles shook his head mutely and turned to jog up the grand staircase to join his mentor.
"What do you think of Von Karma in America?"
"It's very nice, sir."
"It is a fitting base, if I do say so myself."
Miles glanced sidelong at the old man, not really trusting his suddenly conversational tone.
"Now, Miles Edgeworth, you have a clean slate here in California," Mister Von Karma said, "Don't mess this up."
"Yes, sir."
He awoke early and stared at his ceiling. It seemed so tiresome anymore. Miles drew his knees up and the coral silk pajamas he wore reflected gold in the early morning light. He sighed heavily and rolled off the bed to begin his morning ritual.
"Edgeworth," he said into his phone where he stood in the nook dressed for the day and flipping casually through the morning paper.
"Yes," he said and he cradled the phone against his shoulder so he could finish spreading cream cheese on his bagel, "I can. It will have to be later this afternoon."
He put down the knife and hung up his phone.
"Oh, Mister Edgeworth!" Mrs. Kucharka came worriedly up to him from the servant's entrance. No doubt panicked that he'd had to make his own breakfast.
"Good morning," Miles said.
"So sorry, Mister Edgeworth!"
"Nonsense," he said, "I'm quite adept at the use of a toaster and kettle."
"I make you eggs?"
"That's quite all right," Miles said, "This will suffice."
"You come for lunch," she goaded.
He looked sidelong at her, "Em... Where is Mister Wellington?"
"He is washing the car," the cook said.
"I see," Miles said, "I should go. I will be back this evening."
"Okay sir," she said bobbing her head.
Miles put on his jacket and grabbed what was left of his bagel and his briefcase and left the flat. He went slowly down the stairwell, work was starting to become tiresome too.
He saw Wellington polishing the Lincoln as he crossed the garage to his Alfa. He nodded at the man before getting into the car.
The garage in the Prosecutor's building was nearly deserted when he arrived.
"You forge anything lately?"
The voice was angry, venomous. Miles didn't pause to acknowledge the Lunchland Lady as he entered the stairwell. He pursed his lips and started up the stairs. He would never live this down.
The floor was blissfully deserted and Miles made it to his office with no molestation. He started his ritual; kettle, computer, teapot. Then poked in his inbox for anything outstanding.
He was sipping his second cup of tea and poking through his e-mails when his first visitor knocked on the door. It was Winston Payne.
Miles glared up at the man and set his teacup on his desk.
"Mister Edgeworth," Payne said by way of greeting. The older man peered through his horn-rimmed glasses with disdain.
"To what do I owe the pleasure, Mister Payne?"
Payne sneered at him, "Don't mock me, Edgeworth."
"I'll thank you not to take that tone with me," Miles smiled, "Mister Payne."
Payne winced, "Evidence transferral this week."
"Old news," Miles said.
"Um, but we're having some problems with a couple—"
"Are you telling me that you're missing evidence?"
"No, I—"
"And you only noticed this now?" Miles' brow furrowed. Payne started patting his shining pate.
"Come on Edgeworth! Can't you just let this one slide?"
Miles cocked his head in mock confusion, "I'm sorry Mister Payne. It seems you're asking me to overlook procedure? Certainly you don't expect me to condone that?"
"You know, Edgeworth," Payne spat his name like a curse, "You don't have to try and impress Von Karma. He's dead now."
Miles glared at him and crossed his arms.
"Okay, fine," Payne said and turned to leave, "I'll file the requisite paperwork."
"Very good," Miles said. He exhaled wearily when the door closed behind Payne. He was tiresome too.
Miles did what he could until the halls started to buzz with lunchtime traffic. It seemed as good a time as any to make his escape.
He had his jacket off and the window rolled down as he raced out to the house. The ride at least was exhilarating and made the trip almost worth it. He pulled into the drive and jumped out of the car. The unseasonal warmth let him leave his jacket in the car and he walked up to the heavy double doors and fumbled with the key to the lock box.
He glanced around before going inside. No one else was there yet.
All the arrangements had been made almost as soon as he took ownership of the place. He left the sale of the furniture and books and other artifacts of the estate up to the rest of the board. As the only living Edgeworth, the sale of the house was left up to him.
As much as he hated the garish mansion, he felt hiring a realtor was too much distance for him. He wanted to be the one to pass on what had become a tangible part of his childhood, however bleak it may have been.
His footsteps echoed in the now empty halls. The staircase with its decorated columns seemed all the more imposing. The walls had been painted white, to allow a blank palette for the new owner. It made the foyer almost too bright.
He smiled to himself. He could hear Franziska's footsteps echoing in those halls. Her laughter. The sound of his own clumsy fingers on the piano.
Miles turned when the door opened.
Maddy smiled at him and pulled off her sunglasses.
"Well," she said a little breathless, "This is very grand! Why are you selling it?"
Miles stared coldly into the house, "I don't need it."
"Well," Maddy said, "I wasn't sure what to expect, but now that I see it, I'm sure daddy would love to take it off of your hands."
"Good," Miles said.
"Unless of course..." She raised an eyebrow at him.
"What Maddy?"
She pouted at him, "We could fill this house."
He shot her a pointed glare, "With what?"
She smiled suggestively and he made a face at her. This was tiresome as well.
"Oh Miles, darling," she pouted at him and he crossed his arms, "Can you blame me? You are stringing me along, you know."
"I think perhaps you misunderstand," Miles said, "I don't want to get back together and I don't want to pretend that is something even remotely possible in the future."
Maddy made a noise and put her sunglasses back on, "You are such a vexing person, Miles."
"Where's your father?" he said, ignoring her comment.
"He's on his way," Maddy said without looking at him, "I don't know why you have to be so stubborn, Miles. We could at least be friends."
"I thought we were friends?"
Maddy laughed.
"Miles," Dad said, "come look at this!"
Dad was outside standing by a red gate in the overgrown backyard. Miles jogged around the side of the house to meet his father. The backyard abutted the forest and there was a cobbled path that led from the gate to the gate on the other side of the house. The stones were crumbling and overgrown.
In the back corner there was a small pond surrounded by stones with a trickling fountain. Miles ran over to it, unable to contain his excitement.
"Dad!" he said pointing eagerly, "It's a koi fish! A real koi fish! It's huge!"
Dad was chuckling at him. Miles stood suddenly and peered into the forest.
"Do you think there are animals? Can we go in there?"
"One thing at a time, son," Dad said, "Let's get moved in first!"
Miles ran back to his father and let the man lead him into the house. It was still mostly empty with boxes stacked haphazardly and unassembled furniture piled against the walls.
"Why don't you take your boxes to your room?"
"Can I pick which room?"
Dad laughed, "As long as it's not the master bedroom."
"Yeah," Miles said already carrying a box, "I know which one that is. I want a window that looks out at the forest!"
Dad smiled at him, "Of course, Miles. You can take whichever room you want."
Miles jogged hurriedly up the stairs in spite of the awkward size of the box in his little arms. He made a beeline for the room he'd already chosen. He paused in the loft and looked down.
"Hey dad! Daddy!" Miles said, "I can see you downstairs."
"Yes, Miles," Dad said, "That's a loft."
"Cool!" Miles said.
He ran into his new room and dropped the box on the floor. Then he went to the window and pushed it open. He grinned, the chirp of tree frogs mingled with crickets and other noises of the encroaching evening. This house was so cool.
Dad ordered pizza for dinner, because they still hadn't unpacked the kitchen. And they sat on the bare living room floor and ate. Miles couldn't help his excited gaze flipping to every corner of the new house and finding something new. Dad had to make him sit down and finish his dinner.
"Dad," Miles said, "I don't ever want to move again."
Dad smiled, "I hope we don't have to."
Dad took a drought from a coke he was drinking, "And next week, you'll get to your new school."
Miles looked at his father and frowned, "I have to change schools? Couldn't I finish at my old school this year and then start later?"
"And how will you get to your school? It's almost two hours away."
"It's that far?"
Dad grinned at him, "I'm sure you'll love your new school."
Miles frowned again, "Dad, can I just work for you? School is boring."
Dad laughed, "You have to go to school. That's how you get credentials."
"Oh?" Miles said, "What's a cred—"
"Well, you have to have an official document saying that you're a lawyer in order to practice. The only way to do that is to finish school."
"I guess," Miles said. "Hey Dad? Can I go look at the fish now?"
"Tomorrow Miles," Dad said and ruffled his hair, "It's getting dark."
He left Maddy and Max Tailor with the keys to the house, and drove himself back to his flat. He parked in the garage and sat in his car, listening to the engine cool. He stared at the console and frowned. He didn't feel like going up there. He didn't feel like being anywhere just now.
Miles dug his phone out of his pocket and called the house phone, "Wellington, it's me. No. I'm... I'm going to go out for dinner. Thank you Wellington."
He stared at his phone for a moment after he'd hung up and then dropped it into the passenger seat. He'd already spent most of the afternoon with Maddy, he didn't want to ask her to dinner as well. No, she might get the wrong idea.
Miles sighed; he didn't have anyone else to call. At least no one else he wanted to try and make conversation or share the evening with. He just didn't want to see anyone else.
Miles started the car and backed out of the parking space. It was as good a time as any for it. He put the car in gear and sped out of the garage and into the waiting gloaming.
He drove aimlessly for several miles before stopping at a gas station to fill up. He frowned as he watched the numbers tick up and wondered which direction the night would take him. The last time he'd done this, he'd made it all the way out to Coronado Island. It had been nice, speeding along the beaches and cliffs along the PCH.
He put his hand in his pocket and startled when he found it. His knife. He usually kept it in his drawer at his desk—it was a gift and colored the same magenta he usually wore and it even had a little—whoa. It was missing, the miniature cravat near the spring where the blade ejected. It must've broken off.
Miles shook his head and opened the trunk. He dropped the little knife into his toolbox and was surprised to find he'd left one of his jackets in the trunk. The charcoal gray jacket was balled up in the otherwise empty trunk. He picked it up and shook it out—so that's where it went.
He frowned and checked the pockets out of habit. One of them had a weatherworn business card inside. He stuck the card in his pocket and balled the jacket back up. But he didn't put it in the trunk, not wanting to forget about it again.
He closed the trunk and then went to remove the nozzle from the gas tank. When he finished at the pump he tucked the jacket on the passenger seat on top of his phone.
He pulled his door closed and then sat for a moment before pulling the business card out of his pocket.
Law Offices of Edgeworth and Associates; Expert Criminal Defense and Litigation.
He frowned and stared at his father's business card, only just remembering that it had been under a stone near his father's grave. Who'd put it there?
He flipped the card over. Something had been written on it in pencil. But the words or numbers were lost to time and weathering. Miles squinted at it for a few more seconds before tucking it into the console and starting the car.
His wanderlust led him to highway 5 and before he was sure where he was going, he was already most of the way there. That town. That place. The last place he'd lived with his father before everything went wrong. He slowed as he left the interstate and drove past car dealerships, strip malls and fast food restaurants. He didn't remember any of this.
It was getting late, and the sleepy suburban streets were nearly deserted. He looked around curiously as he drove. None of this was familiar. There was no connection for him.
Then he saw it.
Miles was never sure what it was, this landmark. It looked like a cheery garden wall that had been abandoned long before it was complete. It was overgrown now, but still plain as day. This is where Dad used to turn to get off of main. Miles turned onto the residential street.
He frowned at the quiet houses huddled under the orange glow of the streetlights. Life had moved on. The world hadn't stopped spinning. Not for this town. Not for Gregory Edgeworth.
He was starting wonder that he'd gotten lost. After all, it had been more than fifteen years now. This wasn't a part of him anymore. The place had forgotten him just as easily as he'd forgotten it. Then he saw his old school. He was happy at that school. That's where he'd met Larry and Phoenix.
In the dark the school looked eerie and forlorn. There was yellow caution tape around a manhole in the sidewalk—that's where Dad would drop him off in the mornings. The old tree they used to meet at was gone, but could still see its stump where it broke up the otherwise smooth green lawn. It had been real. All of it.
Even though he'd all but forgotten.
He drove once through the drive where the buses cycled through and continued to a large four-way intersection. He glanced to the left. That's where Phoenix and Larry used to walk. He turned right.
This drive had been part of his daily routine. Especially that winter. His aunt was very sick then, and dad was busy with his last case. He'd spent a lot of time at Phoenix Wright's house.
Miles frowned in the soft glow of his console. He and Phoenix used to be friends. Now they'd been thrown together again. Was it the same now? Phoenix did seem like a good person. Why would he want a friend like Miles Edgeworth?
He didn't realize how slow he was going until the headlights appeared behind him and then the other car passed. Miles picked up speed and then he saw it. The last house he'd lived in with his father.
Miles almost stalled out. He ended up driving past the place and coming back around the block. He stopped at the curb and parked.
It was definitely his father's house. But he hardly recognized it. The plants were different. There was a gnome on the porch. The garage had a basketball hoop above it.
Miles stared. Not sure if he was disappointed about the changes or mournful of what it meant. The world hadn't stopped spinning for him.
A/N: Thanks for Reading!
Please review? Thanks in advance!
Miles a little back to normal and then crash... Poor thing!
Just in case: PCH is Pacific Coast Highway
I've always wanted to use the word 'gloaming' in a story. Now I can cross that off the 'ol bucket list.
Sorry if this chapter was boring. It felt like it had to happen. Up next: a Phoenix chapter! Yeah we all need a break...