"Objection!" Hale stood. "Relevance."
"Goes to motive, Your Honor. The prosecution opened this door by discussing financial matters."
Kessler frowned, but nodded. "Proceed."
"The property was valued at four million dollars," Stevens admitted.
"Isn't it unusual for a property to be insured for three times its value?"
"Properties are often insured above assessed value to cover contents and business interruption."
Simone nodded thoughtfully. "And who approved this particular insurance level?"
Stevens shifted uncomfortably. "I don't recall specifically."
"Would it refresh your memory to review the policy documents?"
"Objection!" Hale called again. "Counsel is attempting to introduce the previously ruled inadmissible evidence."
"I'm referring to the insurance documents already in evidence," Simone corrected. "Prosecution Exhibit 23."
She had him: the official policy documents couldn't be reconciled with Peterson's evidence without exposing the fraud. Stevens began to sweat as she walked him through the discrepancies.
A commotion at the back of the courtroom interrupted her questioning. Michael Peterson burst in, his face bloody, his suit torn.
"I have to testify!" he shouted. "They tried to kill me! Bancroft's men!"
Two deputies grabbed him as Judge Kessler ordered the jury to disregard the outburst. But the damage was done: the jurors had seen Peterson, had heard his accusations; some were whispering, connecting his appearance to the documents Hale had fought so hard to suppress.