Chapter Text
“Edgeworth,” Wright exhales his name not so much in greeting but in surprise as he settles into the metal folding chair across from the Prosecutor. “What are you doing here?”
“Were you expecting someone else?” Miles asks, putting off answering Wright’s question. Why is he here? To get answers he supposes. There is something about this case that he finds…unsettling. Despite the verdict being handed down it felt incomplete, somehow. For the past few days since Wright v State the thought had nagged at him, vexing him and disrupting his work.
“Not in particular,” Wright says with a shrug. “You’re just the last person I would expect. You made it pretty clear that our history isn’t particularly important to you.”
That last statement was rather pointed, but not untrue. As Miles had told Wright before the trial had begun, he would receive no special treatment.
How much history did they really have, to begin with? A few months of friendship fifteen years ago? A handful of unread letters? Certainly not enough for Miles to abandon his duty as a prosecutor. If Wright resented him for that, so be it.
“I am not here for a social visit, Wright.” Miles says, but doesn’t elaborate. He’s still not entirely sure himself why he’s here.
Looking at Wright now, frustratingly calm despite his circumstances, looking almost the same as he did the day of his conviction– if slightly more rumpled and tired; Miles thinks he’s found his answer.
He has no idea why this man killed Mia Fey. They had the means and the method and even an eye witness, there was no doubt that Wright was guilty. But Miles didn’t know why . And that imperfection in his case against Wright bothered him. It was unacceptable, against everything he’d been taught, to leave such an important question unanswered.
Wright stares at him, unwavering through the silence. “Do you visit all the people you prosecute, then?”
Miles scoffs, crossing his arms, shifting back in his own uncomfortable seat “I have no need, or time, for such senseless gloating.”
“Aw, so I'm special after all?” Wright asks sardonically, with a smile that does nothing to alleviate the dull look in his eyes. Miles notices dark bruise like circles starting to form under the killer’s eyes. Well, he muses, it must not be terribly comfortable in prison; but that was the point wasn’t it? It was a punishment, not a vacation.
“Don’t flatter yourself Wright, I am not here to gloat nor to see you. I am here to get answers,” Miles says. Wright was just as irritating out of court as he was in it. “I strive for perfection in all my cases, it is the best way to guarantee a guilty verdict after all.”
Wright ‘hmmms’ neutrally, as if he wants to argue but chooses to let it go. The thought makes Miles more agitated than if he just spewed whatever inane objection sprung to his mind.
“Your case,” Miles continues pointedly, “Much to my chagrin is…imperfect.”
Wright’s eyebrows go up at that. “You seemed confident enough during the trial, what changed your mind?”
“Nothing,” Miles snaps, “I’m as sure of your guilt now as I was then. None of your ridiculous, far-fetched theories outweigh the overwhelming evidence. That’s why you are here.”
Wright scowls, but just says “Right. So if my guilt isn’t in question then what is?”
“Motive,” Miles explains. “I want to know why you killed Mia Fey. It’s the only piece missing.”
“You…want my motive,” Wright repeats, slowly.
“Yes.”
Wright runs a hand through his disheveled hair and sighs “I’d love to tell you Edgeworth, really I would,”
Wright leans forward, making direct eye contact with Miles, making the man tense up in response, before continuing “but since I didn't fucking do it ; that's kind of a tall order"
Miles uses adjusting his posture, crossing one leg over the other at the knee, as an excuse to break eye contact. “So,” he says “You maintain your innocence even now.”
“It’s the truth,” Wright says simply.
“I understand that you may be avoiding a confession for the sake of some sort of appeal, however, your cooperation with my investigation may offer some leniency when it comes time for your sentencing.”
“What? Like life without parole instead of death row?” Wright asks with more than a hint of sarcasm “Thanks but no thanks.”
“I must warn you, if you are hoping to get the verdict overturned–”
“--This isn’t about an appeal,” Wright interrupts. “You and I both know that isn’t going to happen. I don’t have anything to hang an appeal on, if I did I would’ve presented it during the trial. It’s over. I know that. But you won’t get me to say I killed Mia. I’d rather die.”
“If you continue with this stubborn refusal to accept reality you may very well get your wish,” Miles scowls.
Wright fixes him with an incomprehensible look for a moment before eventually replying; “This is really bothering you isn’t it? Not knowing?”
“Nnngh.” He can’t deny it. That was why he was here, after all.
The buzzing of the fluorescent light of the detention center is the only sound between them for a while. And Miles is ready to cut his losses, standing up to leave–he’d put the case out of his mind eventually, it was clear this was going nowhere–when Wright finally speaks again.
“Wait,” Wright says, sounding the most uncertain he had since their conversation had begun “I wanna make a deal”
Maybe Wright was capable of reason after all. Miles sits back down and makes a gesture for Wright to continue.
“Redd White,” Wright says “I want you to investigate him.”
Miles glares at him in response. “This is a waste of time–”
“Wait–” Wright says again, more pleading this time “Look, I know you think I killed Mia. But even you have to see that White is up to something shady. He’s definitely committed several felonies, even if you think murder isn’t one of them.”
“So it’s revenge is it? His testimony was the final nail in your coffin so you wish to see him convicted too.”
Wright shakes his head “It’s not about revenge. Even if I wanted that it would be for Mia, not for me.”
Miles ignores Wright's continued insistence on his own innocence for the sake of progressing their discussion. “Why then? What stake do you have in White’s conviction?”
“Maya,” Wright says, “Mia’s younger sister. She was at the trial,”
Miles rolls his eyes “I remember her, Wright, she was initially the defendant after all.”
“Do you remember what she said after the verdict?”
He does, of course. It was only a few days prior after all. Miles may have many cases but he also has an excellent memory, he wouldn’t lose track of things that quickly.
“Guilty”
Phoenix Wright says nothing more in his defense when the gavel slams down with that definitive verdict. The gallery murmurs among themselves. Miles busies himself organizing the case file and slipping it into his briefcase, avoiding Wright’s watchful gaze.
“NO!” The cry comes not from Wright but from the young girl off to the side, the previous defendant in the case; Maya Fey.
Mia Fey’s younger sister. Miles does feel sympathy for the younger Fey, she had been through a lot. He didn’t blame her for being invested in Wright’s innocence. It must feel quite the betrayal, for your own defense attorney to turn out to be the murderer.
“No! You’re wrong! He didn’t do it! He didn’t kill my sister!” Fey is causing quite the fuss, tears pouring from her eyes as she goes right up to the railing separating her from the defense’s bench.
“It was him!” She points to White, still on the witness stand “Redd White killed my sister! I know it was him!”
At that, Wright seems to snap back to reality, and he turns to Fey “Maya, enough.”
“But–” Fey begins to protest.
“It’s over,” Wright’s voice goes from firm to pleading when he adds “Just go home, Maya.”
When the police escort Wright from the courtroom he doesn’t resist but Maya Fey continues to yell his innocence until she’s also being led out.
“I recall,” Miles says “What about it?”
“She accused Redd White of Mia’s murder, in front of him,”
“Yes, and I wonder who gave her that idea,” Miles replies dryly.
“This is serious!” Wright snaps, voice rising to anger for the first time during their exchange. “She’s in danger, Edgeworth. Whether you believe me about that or not. And I can’t help her, not stuck in here. Please. ”
The sudden pleading tone gets Miles' attention. Either he’s an excellent actor or he’s genuinely worried for Maya Fey’s safety. Most likely the latter. Wright may be Mia Fey’s murderer but there was no denying that Redd White was a powerful man, not to be trifled with. The idea of some sort of retaliation wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility.
Although that did leave the question as to why Wright cared so much. Guilt perhaps?
“I can’t guarantee anything without investigating the situation myself,” Miles says “But I will look into it.”
Wright visibly sags with relief. “Thank you Edgeworth, really.”
It was odd, being thanked so sincerely by someone he got convicted.
“In exchange,” Wright continues, rummaging through his polyester suit pocket “Take these,” He pulls out a set of keys, attached to a worn out Signal Blue keychain, and slides them across the table to where Miles can grab them through the glass separator.
Miles pushes back down the twinge of nostalgia the keychain brings to the surface. “And this is…?”
“My keys,” Wright says, as if it’s not obvious. “To my apartment, my mailbox, and Mia’s office. I can’t give you the answer you’re looking for. But maybe if you look around you’ll find it on your own.”
It’s a tennous deal at best, both parties offering what they can compromise in the face of their situation, but it’s more than Miles entered the room with. He takes the keys and rises from his chair. “I think we’re done here.”
“Edgeworth, wait,” Wright says “Please, watch out for Maya. She’s just a kid, and she lost the only family she has.”
And whose fault is that? Miles thinks.
“I am not really the comforting sort, Wright”
Wright half smiles at that, genuine “You never were really good with that stuff, huh?”
Miles scowls “You aren’t doing yourself any favors with that mouth of yours, Wright”
“Sorry. Listen, I'm not saying you need to be her shoulder to cry on. Just make sure she gets home safe, ok? And, maybe check up on her once in a while. Please. She needs someone to look out for her right now.”
“You are very invested in Maya Fey’s safety,” Miles observes “Why?”
“She’s Mia’s little sister,” Wright answers “And I can’t help but feel responsible for her, she is my client after all.”
“ Was your client,” Miles corrects, pointedly. “You two are as good as strangers now.”
Wright sighs. “Think whatever you want. But I don’t think you’re a cold enough person to ignore her, even if you hate me.”
Miles isn’t sure he particularly hates Wright, at least not more than any other murderer. But he feels no need to correct him on that front.
“I…will look into Ms. Fey’s status as well.” before Wright can reply, Miles leaves the visitation room, the door clicking shut behind him
—-----------
When Miles returns to his office, the first thing he does is place a call.
“Detective Gumshoe reporting, sir!” Comes the chipper greeting. The detective existed in a perpetually good mood, despite his salary constantly dwindling due to his own incompetence. If you asked Miles he’d say that Detective Gumshoe should worry a lot more than he does. Perhaps if he did, he’d actually make a halfway decent subordinate.
“I need you to do some research for me,” Miles says, skipping over any niceties. “Redd White, find and compile any cases he’s been involved in in the past. As a witness or otherwise.”
“I’m on it, sir! But uh…isn’t the Fey trial over? Why do you need information on Mr. White?”
“This is for an unrelated matter,” Miles says, not entirely dishonestly. This may be his half of a deal with Wright, but he wasn’t investigating Redd White in relation to Mia Fey.
“Oh, ok,” The detective replies, eloquent as always.
“One other thing, Detective,” Miles says “Maya Fey, do you happen to know how to contact her?”
“Um….Oh, yeah! I wrote down all the numbers in her phone when she was still the primary suspect, the note should still be in the case file. Her own number is at the top…I think. I definitely labeled them.”
A surprising amount of foresight from the usually fumbling detective. Miles flips through the file on his desk until he finds the list of numbers scrawled nearly illegibly on a legal pad. He had more than enough practice reading Detective Gumshoe’s handwriting by now to be able to decipher it though.
“Here it is. You need to work on your handwriting, Detective,” Miles says but doubts he’ll see any change any time soon.
“Sorry about that sir, I wanted to get the information down ASAP.”
It was perfectly possible to be both quick and neat while writing but Miles doesn’t want to waste any more time on the topic.
“Let me know when you have the information on White,” He says “Goodbye.”
After ending the call with Detective Gumshoe, Miles enters the number at the top of the paper into his office’s phone.
It rings once, twice, a third time before there’s the tell-tale click of the other party answering.
“Hello?” Maya Fey greets curiously. In all likelihood she doesn’t receive calls from numbers she doesn’t recognize often; if at all.
“Hello,” Miles greets back “This is Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth, am I speaking to Ms Maya Fey?”
“Oh,” Fey says, her tone turning sour “What do you want?” She asks, not bothering to confirm her identity. Well, no matter. There weren’t many other people it could be.
“I went to see Phoenix Wright today,” Miles says, “He requested that I verify your safe return home.”
“Why did you go see Mr. Wright?” Fey asks, clearly still displeased to be talking with the prosecutor but curiosity momentarily outweighs any personal grudge.
“I am not at liberty to divulge that information,” Miles says. “It pertains to an ongoing investigation.”
Maya Fey huffs in annoyance on the other side of the line. “Fine. Well, you can tell Mr. Wright that I made it home just fine.”
As she says that, though, there’s the clear sound of a woman calling out “Mr. White will see you now, take the elevator up.”
“Ms. Fey, where exactly are you right now?” Miles asks, despite knowing the answer. Wright had failed to mention that Maya Fey was stubborn and reckless.
“I am not liberty to divulge that information,” Fey says, with more than a little glee.
“Ms. Fey, I advise that you cease this foolishness at once and return home.”
“Mr. Edgeworth, I advise that you mind your own business” Fey replies, before hanging up.
Miles curses under his breath, slamming the phone onto the receiver. Maya Fey was at Redd White’s office at Blue Corp, he was certain of it. But that didn’t mean that she was in any danger, other than the man’s influence and power there was little to suggest that Wright’s fears were entirely founded. At worst, Maya Fey would be charged with defamation, possibly harassment.
No actual harm would come to her, surely. Especially not in a highly populated office building in the middle of the day. These thoughts did little to calm Miles' increasing feeling of unease. Damnit, Wright had gotten into his head.
Fine, he would go to Blue Corp’s headquarters, find Maya Fey, and make sure she went to the train station himself. Just to put it out of his head, and to hold up his end of the bargain with Wright.