Work Text:
APRIL 13, 11:05 AM
HIGH PROSECUTOR’S OFFICE, LOS ANGELES
ROOM 1202
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The date is the April 13th, 2019.
It’s been seven days since the arrest of Simon Keyes – Five days since Miles Edgeworth’s reinstatement in the prosecutor’s office ended his brief tenure as an ex-prosecutor.
Said prosecutor was currently sitting in his office, attending to the figurative pile of paperwork his recent escapades have generated.
“Yet another request to interview…” Miles sighed, sending another email to the trash bin, “these people seem to think I’m some kind of pop celebrity.”
“Can’t really blame them though.” Spoke the girl currently laying on his couch, “We solved, like, twelve different murders in one month! That had to have broken a few records!”
That would be Kay Faraday, self-styled as “the great thief, Yatagarasu” and his unexpected assistant in many of his recent cases. Though their collaborating began as a matter of convenience and with reluctance on his part, Miles now let himself admit that he had grown to appreciate her company. The girl, he now recognized, was brighter and more resourceful than he had initially judged her to be, and had a budding deductive talent which Miles was certain would serve her and her plans for a job in the justice system well.
Miles had allowed Kay to stay at his office today after having accompanied her earlier for a hospital checkup for the head injury she had recently sustained. Right now, Kay was lying sideways on his office’s couch, her shoes thankfully being kept off the red cushions.
“Unfortunately, Kay, twelve cases won’t be quite enough for any record-breaking.” Miles recalled a little factoid from a book he read once in the von Karma household, “The current record for most murders solved in a thirty-day period is held by a British-and-Japanese detective duo who – in the spring of 1893 – exposed the identities of three London-based serial killers, thus solving the fourteen murders committed between them.”
Kay pouted at that, “hmmph. Well, that’s only three perpetrators – we probably at least have the record for most murderers caught.”
“You need to consider the other side of such statistics, Kay.” Miles’ voice grew serious as he looked away from the computer and in her direction – this felt like something that needed to be addressed. “Think about what it means for so many murders to happen over such a short time span. The London of 1893 was a terrifying place to its residents. Mothers would forbid their children from playing outside, and alleyways became places to be avoided. People lost trust in the Police – for a murder to need solving, the local authorities must first fail in stopping it preemptively.”
“And you think something similar is happening now?” Kay asked.
“Indeed. Over the past month, thirteen people have been murdered in Los Angeles; that means a murder case almost every other day for thirty days. The media often groups nine of those cases together due to my involvement in their resolution, which only further highlights their frequency to the public.
“Add to that the fact that one of those killed was a foreign leader, and the high status of many of the perpetrators, and you get an anxious public that is rapidly losing faith in the LAPD’s ability to stop violent crimes before they occur. People are putting so much – too much – of their trust in the ‘good people’ of the Judiciary to make up for the LAPD’s failings; if something were to shake that trust right now, the people of Los Angeles might lose any remaining respect for the justice system.”
Kay looked at him, wide-eyed. “W-wow mister Edgeworth, I, er, never considered that. Sorry for not taking things seriously…”
Seeing her guilty expression, Miles suddenly remembered that this wasn’t an equal co-worker he was talking to; Kay was nine years his junior and likely looked up to him.
“If anything, I’m the one who should apologize.” Miles sighed, “You can’t be faulted for not noticing these trends – I myself only recognized them recently. This is also why I do not wish to be interviewed about these recent cases – we should avoid drawing even more public attention to them.”
“And here I thought you just didn’t want to mingle with the low-born masses!” Kay’s giggle was somewhat forced – a clear attempt to leave the awkwardness behind. Miles indulged her, chuckling quietly and rolling his eyes before turning back to his computer.
Truthfully, this was the first time Miles voiced his concerns about the public’s trust in the justice system. Now that he had articulated it out loud, the situation seemed even more volatile than he previously thought.
Miles considered this decline in trust to have begun… shortly after the Christmas of 2016 and in February of the following year; when two highly publicized trials – one of which saw him as the defendant – revealed the corruption of defense attorney Robert Hammond, prosecutor Manfred von Karma and LAPD chief Damon Gant. In both cases, the crime had been solved by attorneys such as Miles and a certain friend of his rather than by police detectives—a fact that had not gone unnoticed by the general populace.
Miles himself had lost much of his respect for the system back then. In fact, he had lost much more; von Karma had been his mentor in the field of prosecution, and a father-figure; learning of the man’s hidden contempt for Miles had shaken his world and his resolve, and only in the past month had he started to feel proud of his occupation as a prosecutor once more.
Now that fuse, which had been lit three years ago, was burning faster than ever. There had been times when Miles wondered if perhaps exposing the crimes of such public figures, and in such a public setting, had been a mistake. Perhaps if the likes of Damon Gant and, more recently, Blaise Debeste had been made to resign without the public learning of their crimes, then trust in the system would not have been so severely damaged.
He never lingered on such notions for long. As a prosecutor, his job was to ensure the sword of justice is leveled towards all who seek to evade it, and he could not allow for status of a criminal to cushion that blade. He had to believe that the current transparency of the justice system was preferable to a system that pursued its own survival over justice.
‘Is this what Gant had meant in his words to me before he turned himself in?’ Miles thought with a start, ‘That one day I would understand why he resorted to vigilantism? I do understand his reasoning now, but I still don’t—’
“Actually, Mr. Edgeworth, you should take an interview!” Kay’s voice broke him out of his ruminations.
Miles blinked slowly, looking in the girl’s direction. Kay had shifted her position, now sitting up on his couch rather than lying down. Miles recognized her expression as one she often held when she realized something significant about a case – hand cupping her chin, green eyes glinting in both cockiness and concentration, and a confident smirk plastered on her mouth.
“I fail to see what that would accomplish, aside from bringing more attention to the cases we solved this past month.” Miles remarked.
“But aren’t you one of those ‘good people of the judiciary’ you mentioned earlier, Mr. Edgeworth?” Kay reasoned, “After solving so many cases in such a short time, people will probably give your opinions on the justice system lots of consideration! People are gonna talk about these cases anyways, so why don’t you use your fame to air your ideas?” Kay raised her left fist above her head, “You could even draw more people to watch your interview by finally explaining the mystery of ‘That Man’!”
Miles, who had begun considering Kay’s idea, boggled at her last statement. “’That Man’? Just who are you talking about?”
“Oh, um, you know- ‘That Man’!”, Kay lowered her hand, a sheepish smile crossing her face, “your ‘nameless friend’ that restored your belief in justice? The one you mentioned all time during our investigations?”
“Ah.” Miles smiled. So that’s what this is about. “You’re referring to Phoenix Wright.”
“I-HUH?! You can’t just give away his name so casually after all that build-up!” Kay exclaimed indignantly.
“I never intended to ‘build up’ to any sort of reveal. I merely sought to avoid derailing our investigations by mentioning my relationship with Phoenix Wright. He has gained quite a reputation as a defense attorney over the past three years and his name would surely have been recognized by many people, so it was better to keep him anonymous.”
“Wait, actually, I think I remember Mr. Shields mentioning that name once or twice” Kay said, crossing her arms to think, “what’s he famous for, Mr. Edgeworth?”
Miles leaned back in his chair, allowing his smile to widen. “Wright has a very… chivalrous approach to his job as a defense attorney – he is never satisfied with merely proving his client’s innocence, and always looks to find the real perpetrator. So far, he has successfully done both in nearly every case he took.”
“Sounds like a stand-up guy! not to mention a really good lawyer…”
“That he is…” Miles thought back to their many cases spent on opposing sides of the courtroom, and to the times both got to defend the other in the face of a false accusation.
‘Though admittedly one of those cases was much more serious than the other.’ He thought, chuckling at the memory, yet he doubted Wright would see it as something to laugh at.
“Here’s an idea,” he said, “how about, whenever Wright next takes the stand, I’ll try to arrange a place for both of us in the courtroom gallery. Then you could see Wright in action.”
“Oh, that sounds like it could be cool,” Kay leaned forward, grinning, “I’m looking forward to it!”
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The date is April 13th, 2019. The time is 11:25 AM.
In twelve hours, Magnifi Gramarye will die.
In five days, Phoenix Wright will take to the stand to defend his accused killer.
Within a week, Phoenix Wright will be disbarred and begin his seven-year tenure as an ex-defense attorney, dealing a staggering blow to the public’s perception of the justice system.
Miles Edgeworth’s interview will come too late.