Archive of Our Own ^beta

It began in the early twilight hours of a cool December night. I’d propped one of the window shutters open for some air, and so I could feel the sharp breeze moving through the streets of LA. If Gumshoe and I had set up office in a better part of town, the breeze would be filled with the scents of baking bread and children laughing. We hadn’t, though, so instead the wind was filled with the scent of factory smoke and the sound of angry shouting. My partner was out, and so I had the office and all its attendant scents and sounds to myself when the bell signifying a new potential client rang. I looked up when I heard the sound, and saw someone who wasn’t part of our usual clientele but who wasn’t entirely unexpected, either.

“Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth,” I greeted the man who had just walked in. “Need a bit of help with a case?” 

Edgeworth was one of the prosecutors down at City Hall. He and Gumshoe used to work pretty closely together back when ol’ Gummy was on the PD’s payroll, and even afterwards we’d ended up running into each other on a few cases.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” he replied. “You remember my father’s death, I assume.”

“I remember that he died when we were nine, but that’s about it,” I responded.

Ah, it looks like I’ve almost forgotten to introduce myself, have I? The name’s Phoenix Wright. Formerly an artist and law student, now a private detective running the Gumshoe and Wright Investigative Agency with Dick Gumshoe, formerly of the Los Angeles Police Department. We’d opened up about a year ago and weren’t exactly struggling, but we weren’t exactly rolling in the dough either. My partner wasn’t the only one who had a past with Edgeworth. He and I had grown up together, but after the death of his father he was adopted by the von Karma family - one of the richest, most powerful families in the city. He’d moved away and in spite of my best efforts we hadn’t talked again until I started the agency.

“Why are you bringing this up now, Edgeworth?” I asked. “We’ve been seeing each other a lot lately, but whenever I try to bring up anything about when we were kids you brush me off.”

“Well, back then it wasn’t relevant to our work. But now…” He turned his head to the side and clutched his arm. “Something happened recently that made me realize that it would be in my best interests if the matter got cleared up one and for all.” 

“What exactly happened?”

“That’s not important,” he snapped. “What is important is the fact that you and Gumshoe have been simultaneously exceedingly irritating and exceedingly helpful in several recent cases and I have the authority to grant you access to all the files and evidence on my father’s murder.” 

“How much are you willing to pay?”

I won’t reprint what he said here, but I assure you it was a lot upfront and quite a bit per day, plus expenses.

I closed my eyes and thought about the offer for a moment. I knew that if I asked Gumshoe, he’d point out that while we weren’t barely scraping by our situation wasn’t much better than that either. The amount that Edgeworth was offering up front would be enough to pay our rent for four months, and if we solved this fifteen-year-old cold case? We’d not only be getting a lot more money, but it could be just the big break that we needed to establish ourselves in the business and get ourselves a stream of customers that was not only steady but lucrative as well.

I’d agree with him on all these points, of course - money and future business opportunities are important things to think about if you’re running a company. But for me, my reasons were a bit more personal. I’ve always been a do-gooder, looking for opportunities to help out people - that’s why I went into the detective business, at least partially. And Edgeworth had been one of my best, closest friends as a boy - I’d been devastated when he’d moved out, and when I heard that he’d become the so-called “Demon Prosecutor” of the so-called “City of Angels”, I briefly got it into my head that I could become a lawyer myself in order to meet him again and try and get him to become less of a demon. So when an opportunity to help him not only fell into my lap, but was put in it by the man himself - well, obviously I couldn’t pass it up. 

“I’ll take it.” I told him.

”Good.” Edgeworth carefully counted out some money, and then slid it across the table towards me. “Here is the amount we agreed upon. I will send your daily fee and expenses to you via certified check each week. I expect daily updates from you by telegram.”

I took the cash. “Gumshoe and I will be on the case first thing tomorrow morning,” I promised.

”Good. And, ah, I have one more condition for you.”

”Oh? What is it?”

”Please avoid revealing the true purpose of your investigation to Manfred von Karma. And unless it is absolutely necessary, do not mention that I was the one who hired you. In the past, he has expressed his displeasure at me looking into the matter myself.”

I frowned. “Sure, we can do that.”

Edgeworth left with a “thank you, Wright, and farewell” but I barely had the presence of mind to mumble out a “you’re welcome, goodbye” in response - I was too preoccupied by what he’d said about von Karma. Sure, not wanting his adopted son to dwell on his birth father’s death was understandable, especially after fifteen years. However, something about the way Edgeworth made his request made me think that von Karma’s attitude went further than mere concern for Edeworth’s state of mind. At the very least, the request also explained the high fees offered - von Karma was even more ruthless than his mentee, and if he wanted to stop Gumshoe and me he’d be absolutely ruthless in hunting us down. Still, one thing was clear: the two of us had a case, and I at least was determined to get to the bottom of it.