Maya, naturally, misses the subtext and simply wonders what the west has to do with great pasta. “I-isn’t pasta from Italy?” she asks. Grandpa scolds Meg, “You know the best pasta’s always been made west of the Rockies, don’t you?” The contortion the writers had to do to make this work in an American context is staggering. I mean, they normally don’t even bother hiding how Japanese this game is, so why they couldn’t just refer to it as a ramen shop, as I’m assuming it was originally, is beyond me. As Phoenix joins Grandpa in chiding Maya for her lack of noodle knowledge–hee–she asks him sotto voce, “How long do we have to keep up this all-in-the-family charade?” But Phoenix is convinced that this senile old hermit knows something about the murder, and blue-fonts, “We’re not leaving until we find out what that is.” See, if von Karma were really a genius prosecutor, he would have leaked this fake information about his second witness to Lotta, just to make Phoenix waste time investigating the old man while he preps his real witness. But we know that von Karma’s reputation is overrated, and that Phoenix is probably right about this.
And those wet noodles are served with Rocky Mountain oysters!
Moving on to businesses that actually exist, Phoenix asks about the boat rental shop. Of course, Grandpa’s version of the facts is a little backward, and he insists this boat rental business is the figment of everyone else’s collective imagination. “This here’s the palace of pasta, the ‘Wet Noodle’!” he declares, shaking his fist. “Though, now that you mention it, we haven’t gotten many orders for spaghetti lately. All the kids come up and say, ‘Yo dude, we wanna ride in one of your boats!'” That was probably Larry. “That’s why I keep them boats out there,” Grandpa adds, like anybody would just start maintaining a small fleet of rowboats because of some bossy idiot with an orange jacket. “Youngsters these days… Darned if I understand ’em!” Phoenix and Maya conclude that this particular line of questioning is going nowhere.
The only other subject Phoenix can bring up is “Polly,” instead of, oh I don’t know, “Why you’re a witness in a fucking murder trial.” Grandpa says his memory is worse with his old age–gee, you think?–and so, “That’s why I just tell everything important to old Polly here.” Maya repeats back, “Everything…important?” and I rethink all the nice things I said about Maya earlier in this recap. But unlike Shion, she processes this information without any outside help and goes, “Hmm, I wonder… Polly! What’s the number to the safe!?” Polly helpfully replies, “…1228! *squawk*” Well done, Maya! Grandpa is none too pleased that his parrot gave away the combination to his safe containing his favorite Saturday Evening Post issues and miniature spoon collection. Maya gloats, “Heh heh. See, Nick? All it takes is a little clever thinking!” Phoenix thinks to himself, “And a criminal mind…” Maya asks him to write down the combination, but Phoenix objects, “H-hey! Don’t get me involved in your little heist schemes.” If this were the real world, where breaking into a witness’s safe would actually get Phoenix in trouble, I’d agree. But it’s not, so stop being a pussy, Nick.
Of course this is on the menu.
As he normally does when he runs out of ideas, Phoenix starts presenting everything in the court record. But Grandpa is different than virtually every other person in the game in that he doesn’t respond to anything except Phoenix’s golden sphincter badge. He asks, “That a lawyer’s badge?” and Phoenix is completely beside himself that someone knew what it was for once. “…I get it,” Grandpa tells him while he’s still gaping unattractively. “Ayup…I got you figured out now! You’re not Keith!” I wish Keith were an actual character in this game who looked like an uncanny valley version of Phoenix. Phoenix and Maya confirm that they are not Keith and Meg, and ask for his help investigating the murder. You’d think Grandpa would be upset that these two terrible people impersonated his children and took advantage of his mental deficiencies, but rather quickly, he agrees to help. “But, on one condition,” he adds. “When this case is over and done… You’ll run the ‘Wet Noodle’!” Phoenix promises immediately, and in fact is already mulling over small business loans and planning out tasteful bistro décor in his head. He tells Maya it’s all about solving the case, but does admit, “Also… Who wouldn’t want to eat ‘Phoenix Noodles’?” Hee. This really is the gift that keeps on giving.
With delicious flop sweat broth and fresh spiky sea urchin!
Once he’s extracted this promise, Grandpa goes right back to pretending they are Meg and Keith. Whatever makes him more comfortable, I guess. And it does–now he’ll comment on any number of items either in the room or in the court record, without blowing snot in Phoenix’s face and playing dumb. This provides some amusing color dialogue, such as Grandpa admitting that he’s a hoarder and got that shitty broken TV at the dump, but let’s just skip right to the relevant stuff. Sadly, the relevant thing is Lotta’s enhanced photo, which seems wrong. “Ayup, I seen this,” Grandpa tells them. After establishing that Phoenix can call him “Dad” rather than “sir,” Grandpa says, “Ayup. The other night…out on the lake…I know all about that! I seen it.” Maya practically screams for him to elaborate, and silently Phoenix shares her feelings–his dad saw his boyfriend cheating on him! He has to know more!
Keith gets some dating advice from his dad.
And now Phoenix can ask Grandpa about what he saw. Which, truthfully, is probably nothing, given his pink sweater. But let’s see what he says anyway. After establishing that it was dark out, as if they didn’t know that, he says, “Then I heard this ‘bang!’ So I looked outside. Then I heard another one. ‘Bang!'” We flash to the original photo of the dickboat here, even though Grandpa doesn’t reference it at all. Meanwhile, Phoenix is seething. TWO bangs? Miles has some explaining to do. “A little while later,” Grandpa goes on, “this boat comes back. Then a young man walked by my window here. He was mutterin’ something to himself, ayup.” A young man muttering to himself? So it was Phoenix out on the lake that night? Of course, Grandpa “forgot” what it was the young man in question was saying, but promises he’ll remember in court. It’ll probably end up being Gotye lyrics.
After having briefly dropped his mentally ill homeless man act, Grandpa’s lucidity fades and he mentions that “Little Terry,” a childhood chum of Meg and Keith, just came to visit before they arrived. “You always used to make him cry, remember?” he reminisces. “He was wearin’ this tattered old coat. Got himself some whiskers growing out his face.” Phoenix realizes he means Gumshoe, and now I’m picturing Phoenix, Edgeworth, and Larry dissing little Gumshoe’s hand-me-down wardrobe and making him cry in school, even though Gumshoe is years older. Then again, he probably held himself back several grades to be nearer to Miles. Anyway, this is pointless because all Gumshoe told him was to show up at court tomorrow, and we knew he was doing that already. Phoenix thinks they’ve gotten all they can out of Grandpa, but Maya has one last thing, and says, “Polly! Polly! Have we forgotten something?” And to their complete surprise, Polly answers, “*squawk* Don’t forget DL-6! *squawk*” The music joins Maya and Phoenix in going, “What the fuck?” but Grandpa is conveniently “asleep” again and they’re unceremoniously shoved back outside.
How he pretended to be asleep and shoved them out the door, only to lock it from the inside, is beyond me, but Phoenix and Maya are, for the moment, more concerned with figuring out who the old man is. It would be great if he were the kindly janitor from Phoenix’s elementary school who taught them all life lessons after he caught them smoking pole in the bathroom, but obviously he’s going to end up being important to the DL-6 Incident. With that in mind, Phoenix returns to police headquarters to see what “Little Terry” is up to.
Gumshoe, given the glum, sweaty face he’s looking at, immediately realizes something is wrong with Phoenix. Phoenix explains that he met von Karma’s witness in the boat rental shop, to Gumshoe’s surprise since that was “top secret.” Because this police department has proven to be great at keeping secrets. Gumshoe admits he doesn’t know who the man is. How is it okay for an unidentified person to be a state’s witness? If Edgeworth were the prosecutor and not the defendant, I’m sure this detail would make him grind his teeth. “He’s a bit of an odd bird…” Gumshoe understates. “I haven’t been able to get a straight answer out of him. I decided first that he wasn’t persuasive enough to stand and testify as a witness. That’s why we called Ms. Lotta Hart yesterday.” So he wasn’t called to testify because of his lack of persuasion, and not the fact that he’s a nameless squatter. And everyone involved decided that meant they needed to use their more persuasive witness, fucking Lotta. Well done, everyone. Raises all around.
Maya and Gumshoe agree that his lack of identification is “suspicious,” again with the understatement. They move on to ask about DL-6. “That was when Edgeworth’s father died,” Phoenix unnecessarily explains. “I can’t help but think it has something to do with the current case,” he says, not mentioning that they heard about it again from the old man’s parrot. But, Gumshoe says, “To tell the truth, I don’t know much about DL-6, either. Mr. Edgeworth forbade us from reading the file. So…I’m afraid I can’t show them to you, either, pal.” Can Edgeworth even do that, legally speaking? But it doesn’t matter, because Gumshoe is trying his hardest to buck the rules for his man, anyway. “However…” he tells them, “If you can convince me somehow that the DL-6 Incident is related to this case… Well, I guess I’d consider opening the file up.”
Wait wait wait. He can’t be serious. Didn’t he just get back from a meeting in which they discussed the defendant’s supposed motive, which can more or less be summed up as, “Because of DL-6”? The victim was the defense attorney who got off Edgeworth’s dad’s killer! And Gumshoe knows all of this! Jesus Christ. Even better, the piece of evidence that will convince Gumshoe is the stupid parrot who just happened to bring it up. I mean, that ultimately means jack shit, especially compared to all the links to DL-6 that are already known. This fucking game.
So Phoenix presents Polly. “The parrot knew about that ‘incident’…” Phoenix says. “That incident?” Gumshoe asks, making me hate him a little. Phoenix rolls his eyes, probably, and explains, “DL-6.” Gumshoe goes, “Wh-what!?” as ominous thunder cracks in the criminal affairs department. We flash back to Maya’s “conversation” with Polly, which is just so crucial, and then Phoenix says, “I’m pretty sure that old man must have taught her that word…” Gumshoe, with his “durrrr” face on, asks, “Yeah, but how would that old man know about the DL-6 Incident?” I imagine the three of them scratching their butts and making screeching monkey noises until Phoenix speculates, “Wait! What if… What if the old man was connected to DL-6?” Maya, shocked, goes, “N-Nick! You think he might be!?” and sadly, she’s not being sarcastic. Gumshoe, meanwhile, has been convinced, by this contrived parrot ex machina, of their dire need. “Through there is the Station’s Records Room,” he says. “I’ll give you special permission to go in and find what you need.”
Without further ado, they move to the records room, a drab, low-ceilinged room full of–wait for it–records. Maya is all, “Wow!!!” like this shrine to police bureaucracy is the most incredible thing she’s ever seen. But then she adds, “It’s amazing………ly dusty.” Heh. “Ten years of files and ten years of dust, I guess,” Phoenix replies. He’d better hope it’s not just ten years of files, since DL-6 was fifteen years ago. Also, I’m sure someone cleans in here at least once a year, Phoenix. As Maya starts to look around, Phoenix stands there and mopes to himself. “Fifteen years ago…both me and Edgeworth were nine years old,” he remembers fondly. But not that fondly. God, you guys. “We were almost through with fourth grade when he suddenly transferred. Because of DL-6…?” No, because he was finally accepted into St. Augustine’s School for Snooty Fuchsia Gaybies. OF COURSE BECAUSE OF DL-6.
By the time Phoenix has pulled his head out of those fluffy pink clouds, Maya has already found what they need, and offers to rummage through the cabinet so Phoenix doesn’t get any papercuts on those delicate hands of his. Phoenix asks first for a summary of the case, which Maya hands right over. “December 28…2001,” he reads. Maya pointlessly reminds him that the fifteenth anniversary of that date is in two days, which in turn reminds Phoenix of the all-important statute of limitations. Anyway, he reads on, “The incident took place in the elevator of the district court.” Something about that makes me think they’re talking about a tawdry sex scandal between public officials, and not a murder. Maybe it’s both!
Roland Emmerich’s new film title could use some work.
Maya wonders if this is the same courthouse as the one the current trial is in, like there’s some other courthouse where they schedule all the murders. Guh. As the view changes to show an empty courtroom, Phoenix reads, “There was a large earthquake at 2:00 PM on that day. Part of the court building collapsed, and all of the lights went out.” The view of the courtroom shakes and then goes dark. Maya can see into Phoenix’s dull imagination, and comments, “Wow…that was some earthquake!” If that courtroom’s a rockin’, don’t come a knockin’. This truism still applies today.
“At the time,” the file continues, “three people were trapped in the elevator. It took five hours for them to be rescued.” In a black-and-white still, those people are revealed to be Gregory Edgeworth, Miles in culottes and cute little knee socks, and a uniformed man, who in the still is clutching at his collar dramatically. But more importantly: Baby Edgeworth wore little knee socks! Of course he did. Maya and Phoenix agree that that is a scary, horrible amount of time to be trapped in a dark elevator. Even worse, Phoenix reads, “There was a lack of oxygen in the elevator, and the survivors were unconscious.” As Maya intuits, “survivors” implies someone did not survive, and the case file and a photo of Edgeworth’s dead dad confirm, “One of the three in the elevator had been shot…in the heart.” Phoenix apparently doesn’t have the nice still photos like we do, so he puts this statement together with Gumshoe’s that Edgeworth’s dad was shot in front of him, and realizes Miles was also in the elevator.