Chapter 5 - No Bail, No Mercy
The federal courthouse in downtown Seattle was a towering monolith of granite and glass, an intimidating structure designed to make anyone inside feel small. Today, Victoria Stirling was feeling very small indeed.
She sat at the defense table, wearing a beige prison jumpsuit. Her platinum hair, usually perfectly blown out, was pulled into a messy, lank ponytail. Beside her sat a harried-looking public defender who had barely had time to read the indictment, let alone mount a defense.
The gallery was packed. Word of the high-society scandal had leaked to the press, and reporters were crammed into the back rows, pens poised over notepads.
Julian sat in the front row, his posture rigid. Maya sat beside him, holding Beatrice’s hand. The elderly woman looked frail, but her eyes were sharp and focused entirely on the woman who had tried to destroy her family.
"All rise!" the bailiff barked.
Judge Harriet Caldwell, a stern woman with zero tolerance for white-collar nonsense, took the bench. She adjusted her glasses and looked down at the paperwork in front of her.
"We are here for the bail hearing of one Victoria Vance-Stirling," Judge Caldwell announced, her voice echoing through the courtroom. "The charges are extensive. Wire fraud, conspiracy, forgery, and attempted murder."
"Your Honor," the public defender stood up quickly. "My client is a pillar of the community. She has no prior criminal record. She poses no physical threat to the public, and her assets have been frozen, meaning she is not a flight risk. We request bail be set at a reasonable amount, with electronic monitoring if necessary."
Judge Caldwell looked over at the prosecution table, where Agent Vance was sitting beside the Assistant US Attorney.
"The State's response?" the judge asked.
The prosecutor, a sharp young woman named Davis, stood up. "Your Honor, the State vehemently opposes bail. Not only is the defendant a massive flight risk, but we have uncovered new evidence within the last twenty-four hours that elevates the severity of this conspiracy."
Davis walked to the center of the floor, holding up a clear evidence bag containing Beatrice's black journal and the forged Power of Attorney.
"The defendant did not act alone. She conspired with Elias Thorne, who was arrested attempting to board a flight to Dubai at four o'clock this morning. Furthermore, we have uncovered a secondary offshore account, completely untethered to the frozen assets, containing over two million dollars in crypto-currency. If released, the defendant has the means to vanish within hours."
Victoria glared at Julian, her face twisting in pure hatred. He had found the crypto. Her absolute last safety net.
"Furthermore," Davis continued, her voice rising for the gallery to hear. "The defendant showed extreme malice and premeditation. She systematically drugged an elderly woman, manipulated a medical professional, and ultimately attempted to strike the victim with a blunt weapon when her plan was threatened. She is a danger to the victims and a master manipulator."
Judge Caldwell frowned, looking down at Victoria. "Mrs. Stirling, is there anything you wish to say?"
Against the desperate whispering of her lawyer, Victoria stood up. She straightened her posture, attempting to summon the arrogant socialite persona that had worked for her for so long.
"Your Honor, this is an elaborate setup by a controlling, abusive husband," Victoria lied smoothly, her voice dripping with fake emotion. "Julian manipulated those cameras. He forced his mother to write that journal. He wants to divorce me and keep my share of the community property. I am innocent."
The courtroom erupted into murmurs.
Julian didn't flinch. He simply reached into his pocket, pulled out a small remote, and aimed it at the television monitor the prosecution had set up on their evidence cart.
"Objection!" the public defender yelled.
But it was too late. The screen flickered to life. It was a new video, taken from a dashcam inside Victoria's own Mercedes, dated three days before her arrest.
On the screen, Victoria was on the phone, laughing. "Julian is such an idiot," her recorded voice filled the courtroom. "He actually thinks I care about that crippled old hag. By next week, the money will be in Dubai, Elias will have the estate locked down, and I'll be sipping martinis in a non-extradition country. If the nurse gets in the way, I'll just say she was the one stealing the pills."
The silence in the courtroom was absolute. The reporters stopped writing. The judge slowly took off her glasses.
Victoria stood frozen, her mouth open, staring at her own face on the screen. The trap hadn't just been sprung; it had been buried under ten feet of concrete.
"Bail is denied," Judge Caldwell struck her gavel with a resounding CRACK. "Remand the prisoner to federal custody. And someone get her out of my sight."
As the bailiffs grabbed Victoria's arms, she began to scream, fighting against them like a wild animal. Julian watched her being dragged away, feeling no pity, only a profound sense of relief.
The battle was won. But as Julian turned to walk his mother and Maya out of the courtroom, Agent Vance stepped into the aisle, blocking their path. The agent's face was grim.
"Julian," Vance said quietly, out of earshot of the press. "Elias Thorne started talking in holding. He said Victoria wasn't the mastermind. She was taking orders."
Julian stopped dead in his tracks. "Orders? From who?"
Vance handed Julian a single photograph. It was a picture of a man getting out of a black town car.
May you like
Julian’s blood turned to ice. He recognized the man immediately.
"Your father's business partner," Vance said grimly. "The one who supposedly died in a boating accident ten years ago."
