Phoenix digs into this possibility further. “Having solved the SL-9 case,” Angel says, “[Gant’s] position as chief was secured. There was only one thing left for him to control, and then no one could stand in his way: the Prosecutor’s Office.” This is obviously what Angel was getting at, and Lana’s promotion is obviously fishy given that she became Chief Prosecutor with zero courtroom experience, but Phoenix still goes, “What!? You mean… That’s why Lana was transferred!?” Good lord, Phoenix, try to keep up. “If he could control the Chief Prosecutor, he could control the Prosecutor’s Office,” Angel explains. “That must have been his goal all along.” Given that this was two years ago, I have a hard time picturing von Karma just standing there and saluting while some upjumped detective in a drab brown military uniform told him his business. But Gant and von Karma were obviously besties anyway, so maybe he didn’t care. Ema’s question, though, is a good one: “B-but how could he control Lana?” Angel has no idea, since that is the secret at the heart of this tangled mess, but she figures there had to be some reason for her becoming an ice queen at the same time.
Finally, Angel switches to a different subject–just kidding, she still wants to talk about Gant and Lana. Angel and Ema agree that the two were “the best” at solving difficult cases, and Angel adds, “Damon Gant’s magnetism in particular was almost unreal.” Yeah, guys like him tend to have a certain allure to vulnerable and confused young people. Oh wait, Angel means “his ability to attract evidence.” I like how we’re just redefining expressions on the fly. “He’d produce the most incredible evidence in the cases he handled,” she says. Phoenix blue-fonts as to her real meaning, and she confirms, “Oh, yes. There were rumors about him even back then. No one dared confront him, though.” So for years, the same rumors of evidence manipulation surrounded the chief of fucking police that have surrounded Edgeworth, but Gant has the balls to publicly censure Edgeworth over it, and everybody goes along with it. Also, super cool that we’re only hearing about this now. Maybe someone could have mentioned, in this case that has been all about evidence forgery, that there was someone else in a major position of power who was also suspected of foul play.
‘She told me they were studying! That bitch!’
Lana, meanwhile, was the envy of every other detective, Angel included. “I was a fool, really,” she admits to Ema. Aww, someone was nursing a little crush that turned into dangerous stalker behavior! “She hated anything crooked, and always watched out for the other detectives,” Angel says. “That’s why she was so concerned for Jake. When Jake’s brother was murdered, she felt as if she had lost her own brother. If it wasn’t for her, I don’t think Jake would ever have recovered from his shock.” Okay, it shouldn’t be a shocking spoiler if I jump ahead a little here: the event that morphed Lana into the Queen of the Harpies was, in fact, the murder of Neil Marshall in her office. So angelic Detective Skye would have been, by that point, too far up her own frigid ass to console poor, grieving Detective Marshall. Unless Neil Marshall’s murder is some kind of space-time constant that can happen at any point in the timeline depending on the needs of the writers. That has to be it. But Angel finishes, scowling, “That’s what makes it all the more infuriating. That’s why…I’ll never be able to forgive her. Why did she have to turn so cold after that…?” Angel needed comforting too! Naked comforting! On a bearskin rug!
Once Angel is done making subtext into text, she urges Phoenix to figure this whole saga out. Lady, I can state from experience that that is beyond Phoenix’s abilities. But he will try. “It takes more than just ingredients to create fine cuisine,” she tells him. “I hope you turn out to be a better chef than I’ve been.” Well, at least that shouldn’t be too hard.
Back to Gumshoe! The poor schmuck is still making copies and coffee for Gant and the other bigwigs, and probably hates the shit out of his job right now, but before Phoenix can even ask, he insists that there is no way he’s letting them into Gant’s office. Predictably, though, he completely changes his tune when Phoenix thrusts Edgeworth’s letter of resignation in his face. “N–no way!” he screams at Phoenix. “Mr. Edgeworth can’t be serious!” Phoenix reminds him, “Is he ever not serious?” For real. Edgeworth is stonier than Chris the Ice Queen at a screening of 12 Years a Slave. As the Tragic Piano of Two Years Ago picks up again, Gumshoe stares into the distance and sighs, “At first I thought he was cold as ice, but now I know different! He trusted us detectives to provide him with sound evidence, but we just…we betrayed him!” It’s funny that Gumshoe is the only police officer Phoenix knows who had nothing to do with SL-9, and yet he feels worse about it than any of them do.
What about Dong Juggler?
After a long ellipsis–during which we are left to imagine Gumshoe sobbing and nose-blowing into Edgeworth’s spare lace cravat that he once sneezed into, was allowed to keep, and never washed again–Gumshoe perks up and says, “That’s it. I’ve made up my mind! Here, take my ID card.” Phoenix, wholly unconvincingly, protests, “We can’t do that. If someone found out…” Ema finishes, “They wouldn’t let you off the hook with another lost item report!” Guys, you came here specifically to get this result. This is embarrassing for all of us. Also, Gumshoe is out of fucks to give. “Look at me,” he says, frowning again. “It’s no secret I’m already out of the loop. After all, I’m friends with Mr. Edgeworth.” If Edgeworth were capable of mirth, he’d probably chuckle at this, but it’s sweet of Gumshoe to say anyway. “Depending on how this case turns out,” he goes on sadly, “I may already be as good as terminated…” Let’s just gloss over Phoenix blue-fonting, “What…?” like this hasn’t been telegraphed like crazy. Gumshoe finally shouts, “So at least let me do this…for Mr. Edgeworth’s sake!” Phoenix accepts Gumshoe’s offer with the bare minimum of grace and pockets his ID. So…Gumshoe ends up asking them to allow him to do the thing they came there to beg him to do. Being in love with Miles Edgeworth is truly a mindfuck.
The team transitions to Gant’s office, where, over a black screen in the apparently pitch-black hallway, Ema dramatically runs the card through the reader and the door opens with the world’s loudest beep. Inside, in the company of Gant’s heavy organ theme, and way too late for this rumination to be helpful, Ema and Phoenix both reflect that Gumshoe is toast if they get caught. But the music stops as Gumshoe himself appears and says, “If that happens, I’m counting on you to bail me out!” Ema shrieks in fright, Gumshoe yells back in reactive fright, and Ema slaps him in the face. Afterward she can only offer up, “Sorry, I thought you were a ghost,” as an apology. Ema’s scientific studies have apparently led her to believe that ghosts are real, and are susceptible to being slapped. Well after Ema and Gumshoe go through this entire song and dance, Phoenix snaps out of the animated GIF of Edgeworth’s gyrating ass that’s been looping in his brain and shouts, “AAAAH! Detective Gumshoe! What are you doing sneaking up on us like that!?” Thanks for joining us, Phoenix. Gumshoe reasonably says that he was worried about something going wrong and so he’s here to help. He may as well help, anyway–it’s not like they have all day to comb over this room, and the extra set of eyeballs will help, even if they’re attached to Gumshoe. But Phoenix chooses to snit, huffily crumpling the card back into his pocket, “If you’re here, then what’s the point in giving us your ID card!?” Maybe he’s lonely and craving physical interaction–Edgeworth has not been in the mood to penetrate his bond of trust lately.
All of this hand-wringing, of course, is for naught anyway. Even if they find evidence in this room that will help Lana’s case, and even if they don’t get caught now, once they offer it up in court, I think Gant will realize where it came from and figure out who helped them get it. Gumshoe was fired from the moment he agreed to this. And with that cheery thought, let’s check out this crazy room again!
This is my favorite screencap ever.
The first thing to note is that there are still two sets of office furniture in here, and on the left side of the room, which used to be Lana’s, there is even a photo on a shelf of Ema and Lana at an amusement park. Lana’s area is full of modular black furniture that looks like it came from Office Depot, albeit the expensive section of Office Depot, and it totally doesn’t fit with the rest of the room. Gant’s desk, meanwhile, is a massive, gleaming oak affair (with a matching chair that’s more of a throne) that perfectly complements the organ. It feels more and more like the game designers created this room specifically for the chief of police, and then as an afterthought added some ill-fitting items for Lana. Which is extra stupid, since there’s no reason her stuff should still be here.
Gumshoe offers two completely at-odds theories on this, depending on the context in which he’s asked. In one, Gant “practices a strict policy of preserving the crime scene.” Yeah, if he wanted to do that, he would have closed off access to this room and not kept it as his personal Cathedral of the Sacred Bachmann. (Just to piss me off, Phoenix thinks to himself that preserving the crime scene is pointless because, in his words, “Still, two years have passed since that incident. There can’t possibly be any clues remaining.” THEN WHY ARE WE HERE, PHOENIX. WHY ARE WE HERE.) Gumshoe’s other theory is, “Chief Gant must still keep it clean in memory of their partnership.” Yeah, he seems like the sentimental type. Also, it’s not like she died. She just works across town now.
But speaking of sentimental décor choices, I guess, they take another look at the photo of Gant, Lana, and Neil Marshall, since it’s looming over Lana’s desk. I hope Gant only put up this photo after Lana’s departure, because it would be really unnerving to look into the face of a murdered friend every day. “After receiving his award trophy,” Gumshoe narrates, “Mr. Marshall took a picture here, then went along with Chief Gant to question Darke. I bet he never knew he’d be dead just a few hours later.” He should have had some idea; after all, everyone in the police department and prosecutors’ office puts their name into a Hunger Games-style hopper to be the annual victim on Evidence Transferal, Police Emmys, and Bloody Murder Day.
‘I dunno, pal. I’ve never made enough to pay taxes.’
When Phoenix examines the right-side window near the suit of armor, Gumshoe offers up a tidbit about the room’s design: “At first the Chief wanted to use stained glass for this window.” OF COURSE HE DID. All the better to provide an atmosphere of repentance and reflection for certain gay prosecutors during their lunch meetings. I’m surprised there isn’t a 15-foot-high crucifix in the middle of the floor with bloody stigmata on Jesus’s 12-inch dick. Anyway, Gant chose the picture windows in the end. “They say he changed his mind because he wouldn’t be able to see the view,” Gumshoe explains. Ultimately, stained glass would have prevented him from looking down on the police department gym and swimming pool with a pair of binoculars. Gumshoe even says, while looking at the organ, that a detective who “screws up” (read, “blows off some steam with another detective in the showers”) is forced to listen to Gant play the organ for hours. Listen to this religious music, expelled from my giant collection of brass wall wangs, and repent!
I don’t even have to spray my own luminol! What service!
At the left window, Gumshoe unknowingly reenacts Phoenix’s sad ruse from earlier and talks about jumping, stuntman-style, through the glass and plunging 15 stories, something he’s apparently fantasized about since becoming a detective. “So long as he doesn’t go crashing through that window when he gets fired,” Phoenix says while Ema stares at him, shocked. What is with Phoenix’s fixation on Gumshoe committing suicide? Does he see him as a threat?
Okay, onto the good stuff. Assuming you think “good stuff” means “useful evidence” and not “homoerotic pipe organ.” Let’s agree to disagree there. First, just to prove Phoenix is an idiot and that there is still evidence of the crime itself in the room, I bust out the luminol. The right side of the room is clean–and more on why that’s ridiculous later–but behind Lana’s chair on the left side, there’s a huge bloodstain. And thanks to a fantastic bug in the iPad version, I don’t even have to spray to see it–it’s already glowing blue before I even do anything. Better still, spraying it doesn’t trigger the conversation about the bloodstain. Delightful. Good thing I don’t need to enter the bloodstain into the court record, or I would be fucked.
Next, Phoenix takes a look at Gant’s desk and resists the urge to picture Edgeworth bent over it. It’s tough. While Ema is copying Edgeworth and being a size queen about how big and intimidating the desk is, Phoenix flashes back to Gant stuffing that piece of paper in a drawer. Gumshoe pulls out the offending document and, as I already intimated, it’s an evidence list. “In most cases the list runs twice as long as this,” Gumshoe says, just to make sure we get the damn point. But Ema looks at it and blurts out in shock, “Hey, look at the case name!” It’s…it’s the DL-6 incident! It’s just a list of smoking revolvers Edgeworth has picked up with his bare hands!