Okay but when you present the letter found in the safe at the boathouse to Edgeworth, Phoenix suggests it’s a past defendant Edgeworth had ‘declared guilty or something’, to which Edgeworth says;
Edgeworth: Nice, Wright.
But I don’t remember that old man. Not at all.
Which strongly suggests that Edgeworth remembers all of his past defendants. All the people he’s had convicted.
Perhaps it might be easier if you sometimes are able to forget the faces that don’t always look angry and annoyed at having been caught out, the ones that sometimes look afraid and sometimes look pleading. Where some say ‘He had it coming’ and others say ‘Uh-uh, it wasn’t me, please believe me’.
When it’s just a job, the names and faces can blur together in your memory, one face after another.
But Edgeworth is certain that he doesn’t remember this man.
Miles Edgeworth isn’t the kind to treat prosecution and the law as just a job.
At this point of his life, the justice system is both something he holds great reverence for, something that he can’t imagine not doing, and takes it very seriously - but also, it’s a punishment, an atonement, and you can’t atone for the blood of a loved family member on your hands if you don’t remember the faces and names of all those who you’ve sent to jail - or, potentially, the noose.