That’s a very offensive way to refer to a woman, Phoenix.
This item — or items, rather — is a pile of broken pottery pieces. Phoenix immediately assumes that Gumshoe broke whatever it is. Man, Phoenix is really being a dick (no pun intended) to Gumshoe today. Gumshoe is all sad face about it instead of nut punching Phoenix, and tells him that the pieces are also evidence from SL-9. Of course. Phoenix can choose to take a closer look, and there’s no reason not to except if you have post-traumatic stress disorder from playing through this case already. Which does apply here, but I feel like a douche complaining about it when I barely have to deal with this thing.
Phoenix, ever the artistic type, wants to reassemble the pottery shards right this second. Gumshoe says he already tried, but gave up after three hours. And then he just left all this shit on the floor, apparently. Undeterred by Gumshoe’s negativity, Phoenix and Ema commence with the supergluing. Nothing illegal about tampering with evidence! A special screen comes up that allows me to flip and rearrange pieces. It’s not particularly interesting from a recapping perspective, so I’ll skip right to the final result: it’s a very odd-looking gray jar with a narrow base and a bulbous top. A couple of twisty arms stick out the sides. A section near the top of the jar is still incomplete, even though they’ve run out of pieces. “I bet they were missing to begin with,” Phoenix says. When they went missing is another matter entirely, one which is not explored at the moment. No one seems to notice the splatter of bright red near the missing section — of course this is going to be blood even though there’s no way it would be that brightly colored. Also, nobody mentions the ugliness of this unfinished jar, although Phoenix must find it so offensive to his sensibilities. Gumshoe, immune to any aesthetic issues, does notice that, “It doesn’t look like the most stable kind of jar.” Also, everything related to this will prove that the game designers are mentally unstable. But that’s for Sam to deal with — the “Unstable Jar” goes in the court record and I don’t have to fucking deal with it. Sorry again, Sam!
Phoenix also carries around a tube of something.
Assembling THE JAR doesn’t remove the shards from the floor of the evidence room — whoops, game designers. Phoenix moves on to the open locker, which turns out to be Niceguy’s. Ema is concerned that it’s hanging open like Edgeworth’s car trunk, but Gumshoe is all, “If we close it, we can’t open it again!” Really? There isn’t some kind of override for these lockers if a detective leaves the force or is tragically stabbed to death? Phoenix blue-fonts that the locker is completely empty, so the contents must have been moved to some undisclosed location. But that doesn’t account for the other SL-9 evidence lying around, like THE JAR or the glove. Yes, the rubber glove hanging over the crime scene tape is yet another piece of SL-9 evidence. Why would someone leave it hanging over the crime scene tape like that? I love how I’m asking all these questions as if I’m expecting competence from the cops or the game designers. Like THE JAR, the glove also ends up in the court record.
The paint cans and saw near the front of the screen prompt the following from Gumshoe: “Since the dawn of time… True art has always been a war against oppression.” From this statement, as well as the color of said paint, Phoenix disturbingly deduces, “Perhaps we’re witnessing the birthplace of the Blue Badger?” And we have another reproduction scenario. Thanks so much, Phoenix. Why can’t he be this talented at figuring shit out in court? Gumshoe affirms that this evidence room is his “studio.” That explains so much and yet so little.
With the search for clues among the room’s visible content out of the way, Phoenix whips out his luminol spray bottle and goes to town. This might be the one place he and Edgeworth haven’t gotten busy — yet! — so he has nothing to hide. The first suspicious stain is located at the base of Niceguy’s locker, just past the shards of THE JAR. Phoenix notes, “Someone lost a lot of blood here.” It doesn’t seem like that huge of a stain to me, but maybe I’ve watched too much Dexter. Gumshoe says something really stupid in response to Phoenix’s inquiry which I won’t bother typing because I’m too embarrassed for him. “Whatever the case may be, it does look like the murder happened here,” Ema decides. And by “the murder,” she is of course referring to the one where Meekins killed a guy and then passed out. I guess he cleaned up the blood in his TurtleNinja coma, too. Phoenix adds this bloodstain to his map of the floor plans.
The visible handprint on the locker also tests positive for blood, which causes Gumshoe to shit himself in surprise. “Th-this locker… It’s mine!” he shrieks. I guess he found nothing odd about the obvious red handprint on his locker until this very instant, even though he must have glanced at his locker at some point. Now he thinks he’s going to be arrested for murder, because in this universe, that probably is enough to put him in prison. Phoenix and Ema just ignore his outbursts and Phoenix marks this second stain on the floor plans.
Phoenix continues to spray indiscriminately and finds a third bloodstain in an unexpected location. This one is on the locker with the white cloth sticking out of it. It turns out to be yet another handprint, although not visible to the naked eye like the other one. It’s also just half of the hand. “If the criminal was running away normally, you wouldn’t think they’d touch here…” Phoenix says, as if he has any idea what is normal or abnormal when it comes to criminals. The bigger issue is that if someone was in a hurry, they wouldn’t stop and wipe off the print. Phoenix adds this third bloodstain to the floor plans. That is a lot of blood on everything. Somewhere in Phoenix’s mind, he thinks this is a semen stain and is just acting like it’s blood for Ema’s benefit.
This is the saddest thing anyone has ever said.
The only task left to do in here is present evidence to Gumshoe. Most of it is irrelevant and not entertaining enough to bother recapping. Regarding the dancing Blue Badger, when Gumshoe gets done jizzing himself over the workmanship, he mentions that it was gyrating out in front of the police department on the day of the awards ceremony/evidence transferal/murder. But “they” — this possibly includes Edgeworth — decided that it was too “shameful” to display with all the people there that day, so they put it somewhere else temporarily. Gumshoe’s spirits were crushed after the removal of his monstrous child. “I sympathize with Detective Gumshoe,” Phoenix lies, “…but I can see why they moved it.” I wish “they” had burned it instead, but I’m getting ahead of myself again.
Showing Gumshoe the SL-9 knife just causes him to gush over Edgeworth some more. He repeats information we already know about it being Edgeworth’s First Big Case two years ago. “That was the first time the world knew Edgeworth was a man to be feared!” he grins proudly. HAHAHAHAHA…yes, the world was terrified of his lacy cravat and tea leaf collection. Wow. Phoenix, forgetting all of the exposition I had to deal with in this recap, goes, “Derp, but why is all this SL-9 evidence showing up suddenly?” All together now: SL-9 IS NOT OVER. Even Gumshoe confirms this.
There’s also something weird and kind of skeevy where Gumshoe mentions that he knew Angel Starr in high school. He alludes to something happening and Angel getting him to talk about it. Was he confused about his first kiss with a boy? I don’t know what this is about, and I’m pretty sure the topic is dropped forever. Phoenix just wonders to himself if Gumshoe wore a trenchcoat back then. Fashion is foremost!
Finally, Phoenix asks Gumshoe about the ID card record, adding that the record shows that Niceguy accessed the room on the day of the crime. Gumshoe had already heard about that, but a moment later he starts randomly shitting himself again. He really needs to calm down. Phoenix and Ema have a hard time getting anything coherent out of him, but he eventually manages to gasp, “The second number on this list… belongs to Mr. Edgeworth!” The music gets all dramatic here. Ema and Phoenix are both surprised — and Phoenix is a little jealous that Gumshoe has Edgeworth’s ID number memorized. “Why would Edgeworth have come to the evidence room!?” Phoenix blue-fonts hysterically. Yeah, why would he have come to the evidence room on the day when evidence was being transferred? So strange and suspicious!
HOW DID YOU KNOW
The ID card record automatically updates with Edgeworth’s name next to the entry for 4:40 PM. I don’t know why the names are printed on there instead of handwritten — is Ema carrying around a printer in her bag of scientific tools? I need to stop wondering about this kind of stuff. And now Gumshoe is finally willing to discuss SL-9. Maybe this time they can get some new information! Okay, I was being sarcastic there, but actually Gumshoe does tell them that SL-9 was a violent serial murder case. Phoenix pees himself a little over this, suddenly doubting the wisdom of his involvement in this incident, and he should really follow that instinct. “But the killer made a mistake, and Mr. Edgeworth built his case around that to nab him,” Gumshoe turns the story back to his favorite subject. That case made Edgeworth’s career, but also “started the rumor-mill.” I’m sure there were plenty of rumors about him already — at the very least, “Is von Karma boning his young protege?” But these particular rumors that Gumshoe is referring to were about the forged evidence.
All this would have been put to rest with the evidence transferal, but Niceguy was in charge of that, and he had to go and get himself murdered in what is surely an unrelated incident. Phoenix asks if that means Niceguy removed the broken knife from his locker himself, but instead of answering, Gumshoe cuts him off. He somehow knows that Edgeworth’s inquisition is finished soon — I guess those ladies stick to an exact schedule — and wants to brighten up his favorite prosecutor’s day with a report. Said report appears next to his head, and holy crap. It’s a pink flyer for what must be the world’s gayest restaurant. Actually, it wouldn’t really surprise me if Edgeworth required all reports to be written on stationery like this. According to Ema and Phoenix, who both seem skeptical, the note reads “No problems.” But Gumshoe is convinced that he’s doing his man a solid here: “Hey, it’s Mr. Edgeworth we’re talking about! I’m sure he can use a report like this. I believe in him!” Oh, Gumshoe.
He races off screen like his underwear is on fire (which it is, for Edgeworth), and Phoenix casually blue-fonts, “I should probably see what Edgeworth has to say, too.” He can’t let Gumshoe comfort Edgeworth first! Too bad for Phoenix that Gumshoe probably has a squad car with lights and sirens, while Phoenix has to wait for the bus. When he finally arrives at Edgeworth’s office, sweaty with anticipation (and from running to the elevator), Phoenix finds an unexpected guest. It’s none other than the bellboy from the Gatewater Hotel. He’s still wearing his uniform with the fuchsia lapels, and carrying his signature tea and cookie tray. The tea set has a fuchsia floral design. Phoenix recognizes him right away — clearly this man made quite the impression on him — but the bellboy acts like they’ve never met before. Burn! “Mr. Edgeworth! I beg your leave. So long!” the bellboy bids farewell to the offscreen prosecutor.
Loading ...Phoenix suddenly finds himself unable to breathe. “Is Edgeworth here?” he wonders to himself in shock. He assumed the bellboy was here in Edgeworth’s absence on some meaningless errand. For our benefit as well as Phoenix’s, Ema points out Edgeworth over by the window, sipping tea out of the world’s most ornate fuchsia teacup. At this, Edgeworth appears on screen, scowling and refusing to look at Phoenix. “Ah, it’s you,” he greets his boyfriend coldly. Trying not to hyperventilate, Phoenix blue-fonts, “He has the hotel bring him tea service!?” Isn’t the hotel all the way over by Phoenix’s office? How long has Edgeworth been serviced by another man like this? Phoenix thought he was the only one who got to roleplay Downton Abbey with Edgeworth. And now this uppity footman is likely trying to steal away Phoenix’s rightful position as Edgeworth’s valet. What’s next — Gumshoe as Edgeworth’s chauffeur? They need to have a serious discussion about this. Phoenix doesn’t know whether to weep, shatter Edgeworth’s prissy teacup on the polished floor, or both. But for Ema’s sake, he needs to stay professional.
‘Whole thing’ is code for Phoenix’s penis.
Unaware of the tension between the two men, Ema innocently wonders if the inquiry is over. Edgeworth responds in the affirmative, and we can probably assume from the fact that he isn’t catatonic or vomiting in a fetal position that the inquiry didn’t actually involve any naked ladies. But that doesn’t mean it was a pleasant experience. Phoenix casually mentions that Gumshoe wanted to see Edgeworth, just to see if the detective had, along with the bellboy, beaten him there. Indeed, he already stopped by and dropped off the pink flyer. “Apparently, a new French restaurant is opening near here,” Edgeworth says of the frilly advertisement. “I think he was trying to console me, somehow.” This just makes Phoenix seethe even more — now Edgeworth is going to be impressed with Gumshoe’s unintentional consideration. He snarks to himself about Edgeworth completely missing the useless report on the other side.
The porn music bopping out of Edgeworth’s speakers is catchy, but not really an appropriate backdrop for angsty conversational topics such as “Inquiry committee” and “Tomorrow’s trial.” Maybe some subdued, somber porn would be more appropriate. Regarding the inquiry, it sounds like Edgeworth is mostly off the hook. “Actually, they decided to treat this not as a case of concealing evidence… But as a communications error during the investigation,” he clarifies. Which is true, although his communication error was refusing to let Meekins speak to him, and that should never be punished. Also, I don’t understand how Edgeworth was responsible for concealing evidence of, I guess, the evidence room incident when the whole thing was supposedly hush-hush on the order of the police. Even Gant was acting all coy about it in court and claiming it had nothing to do with the current case, and he’s the one who got Edgeworth dragged in before the committee. Actually, you know what? I am being naive here. I just realized that this is probably part of Gant’s gay witch hunt, and “concealing evidence” is code for “playing hide the sausage.” To further support my theory, Edgeworth says, “They gave me a warning. ‘You were lucky this time…again.’ I’ve heard them say that so many times. Ever since that case two years ago…” So Edgeworth has been hounded by this mysterious committee of homophobes — headed by Chief Gant — ever since SL-9. I am not sure what hard evidence they need — I mean, look at him — or how any of the many, many gay people in law enforcement would still have a job under this regime, but I’m going to stick with this explanation for now.