Finally, Marshall puts on his tinfoil cowboy hat. “There was something going on behind the scenes in that case,” he says. “We all knew that later. Every detective involved in the investigation, save one, was…taken care of. Ms. Starr was fired and I was demoted and boxed away in a tiny room.” I know we’ve been over this, but I have to say again that demoting Marshall but leaving him a) in the police force at all, and b) in charge of the room where that case’s evidence was stored, is hardly taking care of him. Also, as Phoenix notes, “What about Detective [Niceguy]?” Marshall answers, “If they did something to him too, the commissioners would get suspicious. No, they were careful enough not to be too obvious.” It all makes sense! One detective was fired, one was put in the best possible position to raise trouble, and one was ignored entirely! I can’t wait to hear this guy’s theories about Benghazi.
HINT HINT, Phoenix and Edgeworth.
Ema asks, all earnestness, “Who are you talking about!?” Yes, what of the mysterious “they,” who did such a great and thorough job of removing people who could ask questions? “Don’t get upset, Bambina,” Marshall answers. “I mean Damon Gant…and Lana Skye.” WHAAAAAAAAT?! But they seem so honest and virtuous! This opens up one last conversational option, in which Marshall and Phoenix rehash the moves up the career ladder Gant and Lana made after SL-9, and how “everyone” thought Lana turned into a total ice queen after her promotion. I know we’ve heard this from others, but I’m guessing “everyone” really refers to Angel Starr, bitter and drunk on cooking sherry after being fired and dumped. Anyway, Ema begs Marshall to tell her why Lana changed, despite the going explanation that it was guilt over her evidence forgery. But Marshall says he never found out. “Sorry, Bambina, but her secret is too well guarded.” Um, that is an open secret, actually.
Marshall’s fucking Howdy Doody theme thankfully stops here, as Marshall says that’s the whole story. “There’s one thing for sure I found out in court today,” he adds. “That boy Edgeworth isn’t my enemy.” Phoenix’s nostrils flare with jealousy–is he going to find that cowboy painting hanging in his office?!–but Marshall only means that Edgeworth was obviously as shocked as anybody by Lana’s bombshell in court. “He was the one who used falsified evidence to get a guilty verdict,” Marshall says over a grayscale animation of Edgeworth bowing flamboyantly, “but someone else was the one who gave him that evidence and planned everything. That someone is Damon Gant.” Big talk, cowboy! I mean, no fucking shit, it was Gant, but big talk. At this, Marshall pulls a cork out of his flask with his teeth, I guess revealing that he hasn’t been drunk this entire case (which just makes him worse), and laments that he’s about to be fired, at the least. “I won’t be around to work with you…” Marshall finishes, “when you become a real scientific investigator. Adios Bambina!” And with that he disappears. Adios to you, too, Rooster Cockbutt! And stay away from Phoenix’s man!
With that unpleasant ordeal out of the way, Phoenix blows past the goddamn Blue Badger and enters criminal affairs, which he and Ema remark is completely deserted. Ema thinks it’s because they’re busy being diligent crime-solvers–good one, Ema!–but from behind them, the Head/Chief Detective tells them, “Oh, if you’re looking for the others, they’re all in the conference room.” Phoenix suppresses his shock that Baldy finally talked to them, forgetting that he talks to them all the time, as H/CD goes on that it’s all hands on deck in there, what with the chaos of Lana’s statement in court and the apparent continued sidelining of one Miles Edgeworth. While Phoenix is still blue-fonting like a dick, Ema takes advantage of the fact that “there’s more chaos going on than Thanksgiving and Christmas put together!” according to H/CD, and asks if they can visit Gant’s office. He instructs them, “Just head across the hall to the other building and take the elevator to the top floor.” Ema is all, “You’re seriously just going to let us go in there?” like an idiot, and H/CD goes, “Hey, you’re right! You can’t go in there! It’s off limits!” But it’s too late since he already told them where it is, though Ema should have already known how to get there anyway. Either way, off they go.
This detective goes on to be a delusional Anal Attorney writer.
Before we get to the office itself, because hoo boy, let’s note how silly the location of this office is. It’s been established, notably by Edgeworth on the first day of the investigation, that criminal affairs is housed separately from the rest of the police department. Gant used to be the head of that very division, but the office he and fellow criminal affairs detective Lana shared, this office, is on the top floor of the main police department. Which sounds like a fitting location for the Chief of Police, which Gant wasn’t then. This is all fitting together so nicely! Like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle after they’ve been chewed on by a dog.
Anyway, the office. Like its location, it makes sense if we assume Gant moved in after becoming Chief of Police, but no sense at all when we know he didn’t. The room is spacious, even considering that two people once shared it, and ridiculously grandiose. The floor is shiny, elegant tile with an elaborate flower pattern laid out in red and orange, and the vaulted ceilings have beautiful carved detailing along the crown molding. Other than the office furniture, it wouldn’t look out of place in Versailles. The perfect office for a couple of mid-range executive officers in the LAPD, am I right? But that is to ignore the feature that dominates the room, a massive pipe organ that takes up nearly the entire back wall and is possibly on loan from the Mormon Tabernacle Choir Hall. So…a gigantic set of phallic pipes encased in polished wood, but with an overtly religious connotation? Check.
I feel like he could have picked a less drab bench for his organ. Where are the golden tassels and jewel tones?
As Phoenix wonders what kind of Bizarro World police station he’s wandered into, Gant’s theme keys up, and I just realized it’s supposed to be dramatic organ music. Of course. Ema reminds us of the sieve that her memory has become by telling Phoenix they are in “the Chief’s office, silly! At least, that’s what it said on the door.” Ema, you’ve fucking been here before. Jesus. Phoenix can’t help but immediately comment on the pipe organ, asking Ema if it’s “real.” No, it’s fake. Lots of police officers decorate their offices with fake pipe organs. Ema’s contribution to this is, “Hey, I used to take organ lessons in kindergarten!” I am just going to let that comment stand on its own. Ema tries to demonstrate the genius she previously enjoyed as “Little Miss Bach” by banging on the keys, deafening Phoenix, and definitely alerting everyone within five miles that someone is snooping around in here.
Sure enough, a beat later, Gant walks in to see who’s been touching his precious organ. “Oh, it’s you two,” he says, realizing the threat is nonexistent. Phoenix notes that Gant was reading a piece of paper that looks to be covered in tables, but that he shoved it into his desk. Once Gant has inquired about Phoenix’s swimming regimen–look out, Phoenix, you’re his next target!–he comments that he’s been too busy for swimming lately himself, “with Mr. Marshall’s misconduct and Lana’s provocative statement.” Now I’m picturing Lana writing “EVIDENCE FRAUD” in menstrual blood on the courthouse bathroom mirror. “‘Provocative statement’…” Phoenix Shions, “oh, you mean about the forged evidence.” No, Phoenix, the other one, about freeing Tibet.
So true. Who wears a fringed leather vest with a lavender tie?
Gant takes this opportunity to reminisce about the case, and how those two years of benefiting from its fraudulent result have just flown by. “See that big picture on the wall over there?” he asks, as the camera swivels over to it. “That’s a picture of Lana, Neil and me.” Indeed it is. In the photo, Gant, Marshall, and Lana are standing awkwardly side by side, on the right side of this office, which includes in its décor THE UNBROKEN JAR (ugh) and a golden suit of armor with a penisy short sword. Marshall is holding the King of Prosecutors trophy–the past version differs from Edgeworth’s in that there is a sword with a broken tip welded between the shield and the golden K. Much more on this later, but for now all Phoenix can think is, “Something’s not right with this picture. I can’t quite seem to put my finger on it though…” He stuffs the photo into the court record so he can play “spot the difference” with it later.
This is actually a quote from me later in this recap.
“Anyway,” Gant interrupts Phoenix stealing shit off his walls, “I’d like to reminisce all day, but there are matters that need my attention. I’m going to lock up here, so let’s go out together.” And go swimming! No, Ema, you’re not invited. Ema protests that this was a crime scene and they want to look at it, but Gant says with a grin and a clap, “That case has long since been over. There’s no need to investigate it any more.” Phoenix presses the issue, only for Gant to drop his patronizing smile and deadpan, just like he did to Edgeworth in court, “Perhaps you didn’t hear me. I said there’s no need to investigate it any more.” This feels eerily similar to Phoenix’s encounters with Redd White, but before Phoenix can start handing Gant all his evidence, the Chief smiles again and says, “Now hurry up and get out. I have a meeting to attend.” It’s probably for the best.
Outside the police station, Ema and Phoenix have two very different reactions to Gant showing them the door. Ema is despondent that they’ve lost their only lead, but Phoenix knows there must be something of value in there or Gant wouldn’t have kicked them out. And Phoenix–as Edgeworth can attest after being stalked for 15 years–isn’t going to take no for an answer. In search of the waiting, eager loophole through which he can ease himself, grunting erotically, into Gant’s office, Phoenix returns to criminal affairs.
Inside, Detective Gumshoe greets them with the forlorn frown he’s been wearing since this case began. This time, he’s sad because in that all-hands meeting, “I had to serve everyone coffee.” I’m surprised that part of Edgeworth’s ongoing punishment wasn’t requisitioning the bellboy away from him for that exact purpose (Gant simultaneously loves and hates his array of novelty dildo cream dispensers). Speaking of Edgeworth, as these three always are, Gumshoe asks if Phoenix and Ema have seen him. “Only the top of his head, about an hour ago,” Phoenix does not answer. Gumshoe shouts in despair, “He’s under fire from both the Police Department and the Prosecutor’s Office. It’s almost like the battles between you two in court!” No, Phoenix and Edgeworth do their best to ignore the man in the middle in court and save their eye-fucking for each other. The defendants and witnesses may as well not be in the room.
‘But around Mr. Edgeworth, I can’t help myself!’
Height. Sure.
Gumshoe confirms for Ema that the latest volley of rage-filled screaming Edgeworth is enduring from a bunch of D-cupped internal affairs ladies is, in fact, due to what Lana said in court. Edgeworth may have the benefit of the doubt from these three love-addled sad sacks, but nobody at the department or the prosecutors’ office believes he didn’t know about the evidence forgery, and Gumshoe points out that as the prosecutor, the buck stops with him anyway. It sounds like Edgeworth is truly getting it from both ends, and now Phoenix is madder than ever. First the bellboy, and now this shit!
After they all talk even more about poooooooooor Mr. Edgeworth and the rumors about Mr. Edgeworth and how talented Mr. Edgeworth is and how Mr. Edgeworth’s many, many haters can line up to the left and how Mr. Edgeworth’s jizz tastes like cranberry juice cocktail, Phoenix asks Gumshoe, seemingly the one person he knows who had nothing to do with it, about SL-9. But Gumshoe was reading the case file himself “while the coffee was brewing,” and tells them that according to the same file Phoenix has, sigh, “The only evidence Darke left behind was during his final attack.” And since he’s asking, yes, Phoenix, that attack. “That’s when he left the most incriminating evidence of all,” Gumshoe adds. So there was other evidence that was just less incriminating? I don’t even know anymore. And this is only the tip of the logistical nightmare iceberg that is the Joe Darke case. At Ema’s prompting, Gumshoe stammers, “Oh, um, let’s see…I think it had something to do with the murder weapon.” We already know the murder weapon was the switchblade (or that it maybe wasn’t), but Gumshoe peters out at this point and says, enraging me all over again, “Oh, I forget. Look, it’s all written somewhere in here, okay?” No, it fucking isn’t. Will people stop saying all these details are in the case file when the only thing I can access is a list of Who’s Who from Two Years Ago?