Chapter 193
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 193
"…Let's start with the bad news."
Cedric’s voice was low, his expression unreadable. "The boat builder, who would have been our most crucial witness, died just two days after Arthur Listerwell and his wife drowned. The official report says he was robbed and murdered in a dark alleyway."
Harriet’s face darkened instantly. "Was it really just a common robbery?"
"Hardly. It’s far too convenient for that, isn't it?"
A heavy sigh escaped her lips. The boat builder had merely accepted a strange commission and carried out his client's wishes, only to lose his life for no apparent reason.
"Another reason why we absolutely cannot lose this trial has just emerged," Harriet said, her voice tight.
It meant there were likely others who had been silenced in the same brutal fashion. Enraged by the sheer cruelty of John and Bella’s past, Harriet pressed on, though her hope was flickering.
"And the good news?"
"The boat builder’s wife is alive. Edgar is currently working hard to persuade her, and it’s likely she’ll come over to our side soon."
"Really?"
"Whatever his faults, Edgar is exceptionally skilled at winning people over."
"For all that skill, he still hasn't managed to win Miss Daphne’s heart, has he?"
Cedric chuckled. "It’s always harder when your own heart is on the line, isn't it? …By the way, may I tell Edgar what you just said? I think he’d find it quite amusing."
Seeing Cedric find room for a joke even in the midst of this grim investigation made Harriet feel a little lighter. Talking with him always seemed to bring her a sense of ease. She offered him a small smile, the kind one might give a child pretending to be dignified.
"What about the glue seller?" she asked.
At her words, Cedric’s eyes sparkled with renewed amusement. "Did you know that people who commit illegal acts are often surprisingly meticulous? Especially in trade—they almost always keep double-entry ledgers."
"So they can use them as leverage if a problem ever arises?"
"Precisely. You’re an excellent student."
Harriet’s heart began to pound. The outcome of a trial she had almost given up on could be completely overturned. No—if it was Cedric Kailas, he had likely envisioned this outcome from the very beginning. He had suggested she raise the boat and sue John with this exact moment in mind.
"To call me an excellent student… I still have so much to learn. Especially from you."
"…The fact that those words sound suggestive to me means there’s something wrong with my head, doesn't it?"
Only then realizing how her words could be interpreted, Harriet bit her lip and lightly swatted his arm. Then, she mumbled softly, "Well, I suppose you didn't hear it entirely wrong…"
Cedric paused, then broke into a brilliant smile—so bright it made her wonder if a person could truly look that happy.
* * *
Two weeks, exactly as the judge had decreed, passed in a blur.
The case of Harriet vs. John Listerwell was finally drawing to a close.
Between the two Lady Listerwells, who had become infamous as the scandal makers of high society, and the name of the Kailas family entangled in their affairs, the trial had become a media sensation. Today was no different; a swarm of reporters gathered in front of the courthouse, cameras at the ready.
John and Bella stepped down from their carriage, carrying themselves with an air of practiced arrogance, as if they had never committed a single sin in their lives.
"Viscount Listerwell! If the opposing side hasn't secured any further evidence or witnesses, it’s highly likely a verdict will be reached today. Are you confident in your victory?"
"Of course," John replied smoothly. "The judge is an impartial and just man, unswayed by the influence of the Kailas family. I have no reason to fear the outcome."
Bella also fielded questions with a practiced, weary grace.
"You’ve interrupted your recuperation to come to Genoa for the trial. What are your plans afterward?"
"Because of Harriet, I’ve caused quite an inconvenience at St. Evans Monastery," Bella sighed. "I haven't fully recovered yet, but I’m too ashamed to return there. I expect I’ll have to continue my recovery at my mansion in the capital."
Just then, the Fellon family carriage pulled up nearby.
Reporters swarmed forward, lenses aimed. The crowd held its breath, waiting for Harriet to emerge. The silence lasted a beat longer than expected. Only after the collective anticipation reached its peak did Harriet finally appear, and the air was immediately filled with the frantic popping of flashes.
Bella, who had dressed meticulously for the occasion, clenched her teeth. No matter what she did, today’s protagonist was Harriet, not her.
"Miss Harriet! Please look this way!"
"Will new evidence be presented today?"
"If you lose, what is your next move?"
The questions came like a barrage. Though momentarily blinded by the flashes, Harriet didn't miss a single step. She stepped onto the pavement with elegance and offered a faint, enigmatic smile to the crowd. Without a word of reply, she walked dispassionately toward the courthouse entrance.
"What’s going on? She doesn't look like someone about to lose a trial."
Bella shot a glare at the reporter who had muttered those words, then hurried to keep pace with John. She loathed the fact that they were now following in Harriet’s wake.
Inside the courtroom, the gallery was packed. Reporters, socialites, and those with a personal stake in the case filled every seat. Everyone wore an expression of hungry anticipation, expecting a final verdict.
However, as soon as the judge took his seat, he placed a thick file on the bench and spoke.
"The plaintiff has submitted new evidence and requested the appearance of a new witness. Plaintiff’s attorney, you may proceed."
New evidence. A new witness.
The spectators, who had assumed Harriet was trapped in a stalemate, were thrilled by the sudden counterattack.
"That young lady is truly formidable!"
"She is the Duke of Kailas’s mistress, after all. She must have had an ace up her sleeve."
"Nonsense! Her lover hasn't shown up once during this entire ordeal. Rumor has it their relationship was nothing more than a fleeting fling."
As the whispers rippled through the room, Harriet’s attorney rose.
"Your Honor. The evidence we present today clearly identifies Viscount John Listerwell as the perpetrator behind the deaths of Arthur Listerwell and his wife. That evidence is…"
"Impossible! Lies!" John’s supporters jeered from the gallery.
The attorney ignored them, continuing calmly. "It is the secret ledger of the merchant who sold a large quantity of the defective glue used in the crime. Though twelve years have passed, the merchant kept the ledger as insurance. Clearly written within its pages is the buyer’s name: John Listerwell."
"Is there proof this ledger hasn't been fabricated?" the judge asked.
"Along with the ledger, we have a delivery confirmation and a receipt bearing the buyer’s signature. To be honest, Your Honor, even we didn't expect to find such a complete record."
The judge took the documents and examined them closely. "The authenticity of the signature has already been verified by investigators. They have determined it to be the defendant's own handwriting."
John’s face turned ashen.
Seeing his opening, the attorney drove the point home. "Didn't you claim you wouldn't even recognize the glue if you saw it? It’s a poor habit to purchase goods sight unseen, Viscount."
The judge turned his cold gaze toward John. "This contradicts the defendant’s claim that he knew nothing of this defective glue. Please present your defense regarding this discrepancy."
"Ah, th-that… I remember now!" John stammered. "At the time, something needed fixing… the servants mentioned it. So, I bought a small quantity… but I had no idea it was that glue!"
"It wasn't a small quantity, was it?" the attorney countered. "The Viscount purchased a total of 100 kilograms. That is hardly the amount one would buy to fix a creaky chair."
"I—I don't know. I don't recall the exact details!"
The judge’s suspicion was now plain for all to see. "Witness. Please approach the stand."
At the request, a woman in her early sixties stepped forward. Her expression was tense, but it twisted into one of raw emotion the moment she saw John’s face.
Harriet’s attorney approached her. "Please introduce yourself to the court."
"My name is May Carpenter…" she began, her voice trembling. "I was the wife of the carpenter who built wooden boats for pleasure cruises, commissioned by the nobility."
John’s jaw dropped. A name he had long since buried suddenly flashed through his mind.
"Why did you use the past tense, 'was the wife'?"
"My husband died twelve years ago."
"And was your husband’s name Tom Carpenter?"
"Yes."
"Mr. Tom Carpenter died on June 30, 1866, the victim of a robbery-murder. He was robbed of a mere 20 Dirham."
"Yes," she whispered, her voice shaking as if she were reliving that day.
"Could you tell the court about your husband’s final commission?"
The woman took a deep breath, nodding as if she had finally found the strength to speak. Then, she began her testimony.