Julian stood up slowly. He didn't approach the bench. He didn't look at the judge. He looked directly at Richard.

"Your Honor," Julian said, his voice calm, resonant, filling the room without a microphone. "Mr. Sterling is correct about one thing. There was a gas leak. It was created at exactly 2:15 a.m."

"Created?" The judge looked up, confused. "What are you implying?"

"I am not implying anything," Julian said, his eyes hardening. "I am stating a fact. The leak was deliberately created by City Inspector Thomas Graves."

Richard Sterling laughed. It was a nervous, high-pitched sound.

"Objection. This is absurd. Counsel is launching conspiracy theories because he has no case. This is slander against a city official."

"I would like to call my first witness," Julian interrupted, his voice cutting through Richard's laughter. "Detective Angela Holloway of the Atlanta Police Department Major Crimes Unit."

The double doors at the back of the courtroom swung open. Detective Holloway walked in, her face grim. She was accompanied by Inspector Graves, now in custody.

A collective gasp swept through the gallery. The stenographer stopped typing, her mouth open. Richard Sterling's face drained of all color. He gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white.

"What is the meaning of this?" Judge Holloway demanded, standing up.

"This man," Julian said, pointing at Graves, "was arrested last night while sabotaging my client's home. He has given a statement to police and the district attorney, and he is here to testify under oath."

Graves was sworn in. Julian approached the witness box.

"Mr. Graves," Julian said softly, "who hired you to tamper with the gas line at 1402 Oak Street?"

Graves looked at Richard Sterling. Richard's eyes were wide, telegraphing a frantic message. But Graves saw the detective standing by the door. He saw the judge's furious face. He knew Richard couldn't save him.

"It was him," Graves croaked, his voice shaking. He pointed a trembling finger at the plaintiff's table. "Richard Sterling."

The room erupted. Lawyers whispered frantically. People stood in the back rows to get a better look.

"Order! Order!" Judge Holloway banged his gavel.

"He called me on Tuesday," Graves continued, tears welling in his eyes. "He said he needed a reason to evict the old lady before the hearing today. He offered me $5,000 to find a violation. When I couldn't find one, he told me to make one."

"Lies!" Richard screamed, losing all composure. He lunged toward the witness box. "He's lying! This is a setup! I never spoke to this man in my life."

"Sit down, Mr. Sterling," the judge roared, "or I will have you restrained."

"I have proof," Julian said calmly.

He returned to his table and picked up his smartphone. He connected it to the courtroom's AV system.

"Your Honor, I would like to introduce Defense Exhibit B, an audio recording made two days ago in this courthouse, a conversation between myself and Mr. Sterling."

"I did not consent to that," Richard yelled. "That is inadmissible."

"Georgia is a one-party consent state," Julian countered. "Play the tape."

The speakers crackled. Then Richard Sterling's voice, arrogant, distinctive, and undeniable, filled the room.

"We will pay your grandmother five hundred thousand. And you? Fifty thousand. It's a starter kit for a real life. Everyone has a price, kid."

The gallery went silent. Richard looked like he was going to be sick, but Julian wasn't done.

"And Defense Exhibit C," Julian said. "A recorded conversation in which Mr. Sterling discusses finding a pretext to force my client from her home."

He played the relevant excerpt. Richard's own voice filled the courtroom, urging Vargo to find any way to get Lucille out before Friday morning.

The silence that followed was heavy and suffocating. It was the sound of a career dying.

Judge Frederick Holloway was trembling, not with fear but with a righteous, volcanic rage. He slowly took off his glasses. He looked at Richard Sterling with pure disgust.

"Mr. Sterling," the judge said, his voice dangerously low, "in my 20 years on the bench, I have never witnessed such a vile abuse of the legal system. You have attempted to defraud this court. You have participated in a scheme to endanger an elderly woman. You have attempted to improperly influence opposing counsel."

The judge turned to the bailiff.

"Officer Miller, secure the doors."

Officer Miller, the burly bailiff who had tried to throw Julian out on the first day, unclipped the handcuffs from his belt and walked toward the plaintiff's table.

"What?" Richard gasped, backing away. "You can't. I'm a partner at Sterling, Lockwood, and Pierce. You can't arrest me in a civil hearing."

"I am holding you in direct criminal contempt," Judge Holloway shouted. "And I am referring this matter immediately to the district attorney for investigation and prosecution of every applicable offense. You are not leaving this room a free man."