He’s representing himself as a man of the people. Fine. Let’s find the dirt. Richard dialed a number he rarely used. It wasn’t a lawyer. It was a man named Saul Vargo, a private investigator who used to be a detective for the NYPD until he was fired for procedural violations, which was a polite way of saying he planted evidence. Vargo, the voice on the other end rasped.
It’s Sterling, Richard said, watching Julian Banks through the glass wall of the conference room. Julian was sitting on a bench in the hallway, eating an apple, looking entirely unbothered. I have a problem. A gnat. His name is Julian Banks. Young Black male, early 20s, claims to be a lawyer. I need you to rip his life apart. I want to know who really bankrolled his law school. I want to know about drug arrests, illegitimate children, gambling debts. Anything I can use to discredit him before Judge Halloway.
Consider it done, Vargo grunted. Give me an hour. Richard hung up and straightened his tie. He looked at his reflection in the darkened window. He was Richard Sterling. He had destroyed CEOs, senators, and union leaders. He wasn’t going to let a grandmother’s charity case beat him. He turned to his associates. We go back in there. We delay. We argue that the affidavit he produced is hearsay until the city clerk testifies in person.
We drag this out until Vargo finds the smoking gun. Then we bury him. But as they walked back toward the courtroom, Richard felt a strange sensation in his gut. He looked at Julian again. The young man wasn’t reading legal briefs. He was just sitting there observing the hallway with a calm, predatory focus. When Julian saw Richard approaching, he didn’t look away. He offered a small, polite nod. It wasn’t a nod of respect. It was the nod a chess player gives when they know mate is in five, and the opponent just doesn’t see it yet.
The afternoon session was a bloodbath, but not the kind Richard expected. Judge Halloway was irritable. He had missed his tee time. Mr. Sterling, the judge groaned, rubbing his temples. Mr. Banks has presented a sworn affidavit from the city clerk stating the signature is a forgery. You have presented nothing, just bluster. Your honor, Richard said, sweating slightly now.
