Chapter 11 - The Courtroom Eclipse
The deposition room was small,
sterile,
and packed with lawyers,
stenographers,
and several members of the local press.
Bennett sat across from me at the long metal table,
his lawyer whispering in his ear as he stared at the papers in front of him.
I sat next to Sarah,
my posture perfect,
my eyes calm and focused on the man who had tried to steal my life.
"Please state your name for the record,"
the stenographer said,
her fingers poised over the keyboard.
"Bennett Cross,"
he replied,
his voice barely audible.
"Mister Cross,"
Sarah began,
stepping forward with a stack of documents,
"can you explain why twenty-two thousand dollars was transferred from Doctor Morrow's research account to a private account in Switzerland last April?"
Bennett glanced at his lawyer,
who remained silent,
knowing that any objection would only make him look more guilty.
"It was...
it was an administrative transfer,"
Bennett stammered,
"for research equipment."
"And did this research equipment,"
Sarah asked,
pulling a receipt from the folder,
"happen to take the form of a diamond tennis bracelet purchased from a boutique in Geneva?"
A quiet murmur ran through the press gallery,
and the sound of camera shutters clicking echoed through the room.
Bennett's face turned a deep,
angry red,
his hands clenching into fists on the table.
"That was a gift,"
he muttered.
"A gift for your mistress,
Julianna Vance?"
Sarah asked,
her voice sharp and relentless.
"I do not recall,"
he said,
his voice trembling with anger.
"Perhaps this will refresh your memory,"
Sarah said,
placing a printed copy of his text messages on the table,
showing the exact date of the purchase and Julianna's enthusiastic thank-you note.
Bennett looked at the papers,
then at me,
his eyes filled with a desperate,
burning hatred.
"This is a witch hunt,"
he shouted,
rising from his chair,
"Vivienne is just trying to destroy my reputation because she is bitter about our divorce."
"Mister Cross,"
the deposition officer warned,
"please sit down and answer the questions."
"I will not answer any more of these ridiculous questions,"
he sneered,
turning toward the door.
"That is your choice,
Bennett,"
I said,
speaking for the first time that morning,
"but if you leave this room,
the district attorney will issue an arrest warrant for perjury within the hour."
He froze,
his hand on the doorknob,
his chest rising and falling with heavy,
ragged breaths.
He looked at the cameras,
he looked at the lawyers,
and finally,
he looked at me,
realizing that there was no escape,
no charm left to save him.
He slowly walked back to his chair,
sat down,
May you like
and buried his face in his hands,
a defeated man who had finally run out of lies.
