The floors of Pemberton Manor mimic the patterns of Istanbul’s Hagia Sophia and various elements from St. Peter’s Basilica. The is marble tile is from Carrara, Italy. The stone was reclaimed from an abandoned monastery in Northern Scotland. They’re beautiful but best of all, they’re indestructible. Grigsby knew this when he rode into the halls on Waldo the horse with his daughter, Becky, hanging on.
“Phoenix! Show yourself.” Grigsby announced to the empty halls. They passed family oil paintings and a Cézanne. The stallion’s shoes echoed like distant snare drums. Patina mirrors in gold frames gave the hall a heavenly look.
A confused and recently bathed man walked into view from the guest of guest’s bathroom wing. He wore those strange yoga pants where the crotch begins at the knee and makes the person look like a kangaroo. For a moment though he looked like Michelangelo’s David, except with worse hair.
Grigsby rode up to Phoenix. Becky leaped off the horse and ran to Phoenix’s side.
“Phoenix Wright,” Grigsby said.
“Um, yes, sir. That’s me.”
“Of Wright Confectionary Company?”
“Yep, my dad runs it. You like them Mr. P?”
Grigsby scoffed, “I don’t eat anything wrapped in cellophane, I’m not an animal.”
“Dad don’t be a jerk,”
“Phoenix, does your family’s company produce meat pies?”
“Yes, meat pies, well they’re called pirozhkis, Putin loves them apparently. I recently acquired a pirozhki company and need a distribution network.”
Ryūki walked into the hall, still holding the silver tray. He informed Grigsby that Ira and the paralegals were having brunch and waiting for him. Grigsby said he’d be there soon. He hopped off of Waldo and handed Ryūki the reigns. “Bring Waldo back to the barn.”
Becky looked at Grigsby, “Dad, I know a pie influencer on Insta—”
“Stop it right there, I don’t want to hear about them. Influencers are your generation’s Mary Kay, before that it was the Tupperware scammers, they’re all the same.” Grigsby said. “Phoenix I need you to do two things or I’ll have Crockett take you out of here.”
“Who’s Crockett?” Phoenix asked. Becky elbowed him and shook her head.
“You need to put on a shirt, preferably one with buttons and sleeves, if you’re going to dine with us. Then I need you to get your father on the line,” Grigsby paused and thought for a moment. “And I’ll have Ryūki bring you a stovepipe hat to cover the plant life growing out of your scalp.” Phoneix tapped his dreads looking even more confused now.
Grigsby phoned Ryūki and requested enough coffee to wake up a small cartel village. The legal team will have to be fully alert for Grigsby’s new plan.