Click. A floodlight blinded him. It came from the tree line of the neighbor’s yard. Graves threw his hands up, dropping his wrench. Who’s there? Silence. Then a second light flicked on from the porch of the house across the street. Then a third from the roof of the Banks house itself. He was illuminated like a performer on a stage. Inspector Graves, a voice projected from the darkness. It wasn’t a shout.
It was amplified by a speaker system. You just violated Georgia code 16-7-23, criminal damage to property in the second degree. And code 16-5-60, reckless conduct. Graves squinted against the glare. Police? I’m city enforcement. I’m doing my job. No, the voice said. It was Julian. You’re doing Richard Sterling’s job. From the shadows of the porch, Julian Banks stepped out. He was holding a high-definition video camera. Next to him stood a woman in a police uniform, but she wasn’t a patrol officer. She wore the gold badge of the major crimes unit.
Detective Holloway, Julian said, gesturing to the officer. Did you get all that? Detective Holloway nodded grimly. Every frame, counselor. Graves panicked. He bolted for the fence. I wouldn’t, the detective warned, her hand resting on her holster. We have the perimeter secured. You can come with us quietly and tell us who sent you, or you can take the fall for attempted arson. Your choice, Graves. Graves looked at the fence, then back at the detective. He slumped his shoulders. It was Sterling, Graves spat out, his voice shaking. He said he needed the old woman out by Friday. Julian lowered the camera. He didn’t look triumphant. He looked sad. Save it for the judge, Julian said. See you in court. Friday morning, 9:00 a.m.
The atmosphere in courtroom 4B was electric, vibrating with the kind of energy usually reserved for murder trials, not eviction cases. Word had spread through the Fulton County legal grapevine like wildfire. The rumor was that a Marshall Ghost, a protégé of the legendary Justice Marshall, was fighting a partner from Sterling, Lockwood, and Pierce. Every seat in the gallery was filled. Junior associates from rival firms, law students skipping class, and even a few clerks from other courtrooms had slipped in to watch the blood sport. Richard Sterling entered the courtroom like a gladiator entering the Coliseum.
