“The evidence speaks for itself.”
“Does it? Because looking at your history, Mr Mercer, you have pattern of making serious accusations without sufficient proof. Of pursuing vendettas against prosecutors who convicted people you believed were innocent. Of operating outside legal boundaries when the law didn't give you what you wanted.”
Margaret objected. “Relevance, your honour. Mr Mercer's professional history isn't on trial here.”
“Sustained,” Pemberton said. “Counsel, please confine questions to matters directly relevant to the allegations against Mr Harrow.”
Harrow's counsel adjusted. “Mr Mercer, you've spent time at a private club called Eden. A BDSM establishment. Is that correct?”
The angle was obvious. Make me look deviant. Compromised. Someone whose testimony couldn't be trusted.
“Yes,” I said simply.
“And during your investigation, you used your presence at Eden to gather information about Mr Harrow. To spy on him in what should have been private setting.”
“I observed Mr Harrow at a club where illegal transactions were occurring. That's investigation, not spying.”
“Illegal transactions you claim to have witnessed. But can't prove because you obtained information through illegal surveillance.”
“The surveillance was conducted with club owner's permission. Everything I observed was documented properly.”
“Club owner being Adrian Calloway. A man with known criminal connections. A man who's currently under investigation himself for harbouring fugitives and obstructing justice.” The counsel's smile widened. “Quite convenient that your evidence comes from someone with vested interest in seeing Mr Harrow removed.”
I felt Dom tense in the gallery. Forced myself to stay calm.
“Calloway's connections are irrelevant to the evidence. Financial records don't lie. Payment trails don't fabricate themselves. Witness testimony under oath doesn't become false just because you don't like the messenger.”
“But messengers with agendas do fabricate evidence to support those agendas. And you have considerable agenda against Mr Harrow, don't you? Your partner was convicted of corruption. You believe Mr Harrow was responsible. You've spent three years building conspiracy theory to prove it.”
“My partner was murdered. Made to look like suicide. Because he was investigating the same corruption network we're exposing now.” My voice stayed level despite rage building. “And yes, I've spent three years building a case. Because that's what investigators do when they find evidence of systematic corruption. We build cases. We document proof. We present it to people who are supposed to care about justice.”
“Or you fabricate proof because you can't accept that your partner was actually corrupt. That he killed himself out of guilt. That the system worked exactly as intended.”
“My partner's ballistics report was altered. Crime scene photos were suppressed. Witness statements disappeared. Alldocumented. All proven. All part of the same methodology Mr Harrow used in every case he corrupted.” I leaned forward slightly. “You can attack my credibility all you want. But you can't attack the evidence. It exists. It's verified. And it proves exactly what I've claimed.”
The cross-examination continued. Thirty more minutes of character assassination disguised as legitimate questioning. I held the line. Answered every question. Refused to let anger make me sloppy.
When it finally ended, I returned to my seat beside Dom. Exhausted. Aching. But functional.
“You did well,” Dom whispered. “Didn't let them break you.”
“Not externally.” I flexed my hands. They were shaking slightly. Adrenaline and pain. “But that was designed to undermine everything. Make the committee doubt the evidence by making them doubt me.”
“Did it work?”
I looked at the committee members. Reading their expressions. Most were neutral. Professional. But I saw doubt in two of them. Uncertainty in another three.
“Maybe. We'll find out when they deliberate.”
The hearing continued. Harrow's defence presented their case. Claims of prosecutorial discretion. Legitimate use of sealing powers. Every decision made in good faith based on information available at the time. Witnesses who'd recanted doing so voluntarily. Evidence that appeared suppressed actually just being handled according to proper protocols.
All of it delivered with calm authority that made lies sound like truth.
Pemberton listened with expression of grave concern. Asked pointed questions that appeared impartial but were really softball opportunities for Harrow to clarify his defence.
The controlled burn was happening in real time. Pemberton giving Harrow enough rope to look guilty of minor infractions while protecting him from major consequences. Setting up outcome where Harrow received reprimand. Maybe suspension. But nothing that actually destroyed his career or exposed Pemberton's involvement.
By the time closing arguments finished, the sun had set outside. The hearing room felt oppressive.
