Stop playing pretend. Julian smiled. It was a genuine smile which made it terrifying. Mr. Sterling, Julian said softly. You think I’m doing this for the house? Everyone has a price, kid. True, Julian said, but you can’t afford mine. Julian took out his phone. He tapped the screen and turned it around to show Richard.
It was a recording app. The waveform was moving. State bar rule 8.4, Julian recited perfectly. It is professional misconduct for a lawyer to engage in conduct involving dishonesty, fraud, deceit, or misrepresentation. Offering a side payment to opposing counsel to settle a case without the client’s full written consent. That’s bribery, Richard. Richard’s face went pale. You recorded this in the courthouse? Georgia is a one-party consent state for recording conversations, Julian said, putting the phone back in his pocket. I learned that in 1L. And just so we are clear, my grandmother isn’t moving.
Not for $500,000. Not for $5 million. Because that house is the only thing she has left of my grandfather, and I promised her nobody would take it. Julian zipped up his bag. See you Friday, Richard. Bring your checkbook. You’re going to need it for the sanctions. Julian walked away, leaving Richard Sterling standing alone in the empty courtroom, the hum of the air conditioning sounding like a countdown.
Thursday was a nightmare for Richard Sterling. He sat in his corner office on the 40th floor overlooking the Atlanta skyline. The view usually calmed him, reminding him that he was a god in this city. Today, it just made him feel vertigo. His phone buzzed. It was Vargo, the investigator. Tell me you found something, Richard snapped. Tell me he’s a fraud. I found something, Vargo said. His voice sounded unsettled. But it’s not what you think. It’s weird, Mr. Sterling.
Really weird. Spit it out. Okay. So, I ran Julian Banks. Born in Atlanta, raised in the West End. Father died when he was 10. Mother worked two jobs. Poor kid. Smart though. Valedictorian of his high school. He got a full ride to Columbia University in New York for undergrad. Okay, so he’s book smart, Richard dismissed. What about law school? Where did he go? Who paid for it? That’s the blank spot, Vargo said.
