Chapter 12 - The Trial of Richard Vance
The trial commenced in mid-January, a somber spectacle held in the federal courthouse downtown. Richard’s defense team attempted to paint him as a well-meaning patriarch misled by corrupt contractors, shifting the blame onto middle managers and dead accountants.
When Bennett took the witness stand, the courtroom fell into total silence.
Dressed in a sharp gray suit, her posture straight and composed, she laid out the audit trail with devastating clarity. She didn't raise her voice; she didn't show anger. She simply presented the immutable arithmetic of his greed—manifest by manifest, wire transfer by wire transfer.
When the defense attorney attempted to cross-examine her, insinuating that she had manipulated the records out of a personal vendetta, Bennett looked directly at the jury.
"Numbers do not have vendettas," she stated with quiet authority. "A foundation either supports the weight placed upon it, or it crumbles and buries innocent people. Mr. Vance chose to cut corners on the foundation. The ledgers merely recorded the cracks."
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From the front row of the gallery, Julian watched her, his face alight with undeniable pride.
By the end of the week, the jury delivered a unanimous verdict: guilty on all counts of fraud, embezzlement, and reckless endangerment. As Richard was led away in handcuffs, he glared at Julian, his face twisted in bitter defeat. Julian did not look back. His eyes were fixed entirely on Bennett.
