"Nothing's fabricated. But you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?"
Before Hale could respond, the bailiff called them into court.
Judge Kessler was already scowling as Simone approached the bench. "Your Honor, the defense has obtained new evidence proving Mr. Bancroft orchestrated the warehouse fire as part of an insurance fraud scheme."
The courtroom erupted in murmurs. Hale was on her feet instantly. "Objection! These outrageous allegations—"
"Are supported by extensive documentation," Simone continued, presenting copies of Peterson's evidence: internal memos, insurance policies, bank records.
"These documents are obviously fabricated!" Hale interrupted. "The defense is attempting to introduce fraudulent evidence."
"The documents can be authenticated," Simone argued. "Their metadata and paper trail—"
"Enough!" Kessler's gavel crashed down. "Miss Johnson, approach the bench. Miss Hale, you too."
Up close, Kessler's face was mottled with rage. "Young lady, you are treading on extremely thin ice! These accusations against a respected businessman—"
"Are true," Simone said firmly. "And I can prove it."
"Your Honor," Hale interjected smoothly, "setting aside the dubious origins of these documents, their late introduction would unfairly prejudice the jury."
"The prosecution has introduced last-minute evidence multiple times," Simone countered, "including this morning's rushed hearing."
"That evidence was properly authenticated!" Kessler snapped. "These documents are inadmissible. One more attempt to present them, and I'll hold you in contempt. Is that clear?"
Simone returned to the defense table, her mind working furiously. They expected this: Bancroft's influence over Kessler was well known, but there had to be another way to get the truth out.
She began her cross-examination of Bancroft's insurance adjuster, carefully laying groundwork. "Mr. Stevens, you testified that the warehouse was insured for twelve million dollars. What was its assessed value?"