Chapter 22 - Walter Takes the StandWalter insisted on testifying.
His lawyers advised against it.
He refused.
Control had always been his reflex.
A trial in which everyone else defined him was intolerable.
He took the oath.
His attorney began.
“Did you push Elliot Mercer?”
“No.”
“Did you intend for him to die?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why did you take him to Blackstone Ridge?”
“To teach him confidence.”
The prosecutor later repeated the phrase.
“Confidence.”
“Yes.”
“With an experimental parachute rig not approved for human use?”
“I did not know the specific model.”
“Owen Pike says you did.”
“Owen is protecting himself.”
“Curtis Vale says you hired him to disable it.”
“Curtis is a criminal seeking leniency.”
“Your wife says you planned to gain control of Blackstone Ridge.”
“My estranged wife is angry.”
“Nora Vance?”
“Disgruntled employee.”
“Your son?”
“Weak.”
A murmur passed through the courtroom.
The prosecutor paused.
“Your grandson?”
Walter looked toward Elliot.
“He’s a child.”
“Who is mistaken?”
“Yes.”
“Your wife is mistaken.”
“Yes.”
“Your son is weak.”
“Yes.”
“Owen is dishonest.”
“Yes.”
“Curtis is a criminal.”
“Yes.”
“Nora is disgruntled.”
“Yes.”
“And you?”
Walter’s face hardened.
“I built everything those people live on.”
The prosecutor let the answer breathe.
Then displayed the draft message from Walter’s recovered phone.
Accident at Blackstone. Elliot took equipment without permission.
“When did you write this?”
“I don’t recall.”
“Forensic data says before Elliot fell.”
“That data can be wrong.”
“Then this message was a coincidence?”
“I prepare for contingencies.”
“Like your grandson dying?”
“Like accidents.”
The prosecutor walked closer.
“You also wrote, ‘I will handle the rest.’”
Walter said nothing.
“What did that mean?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You remember building an empire over thirty years but not a message you wrote hours before your grandson nearly died?”
Objection.
Overruled.
Walter leaned toward the microphone.
“I did not push Elliot.”
The prosecutor played the audio.
Walter’s recorded voice filled the courtroom.
If you don’t jump on your own…
Static.
Then Elliot.
GRANDPA!
The prosecutor displayed the harness telemetry.
Two simultaneous force points.
Left.
Right.
“Are those your hands?”
“No.”
“Whose?”
“I don’t know.”
“Elliot’s?”
“No.”
“The wind?”
Walter’s attorney objected.
Sustained.
The prosecutor changed direction.
“Why did you smile afterward?”
“Stress.”
“Why didn’t you call 911?”
“I was in shock.”
“Why did you leave the cliff?”
“I went to find help.”
“Where?”
Walter hesitated.
The prosecution had already mapped his vehicle.
After leaving Blackstone, Walter drove directly to a private storage garage.
There, security footage showed him changing clothes and discarding his brown jacket.
“You drove away from the nearest ranger station,” the prosecutor said.
Walter’s composure cracked.
“I was confused!”
“You removed your jacket.”
“It had blood on it.”
“Whose?”
Walter stopped.
Elliot had never bled on Walter.
The prosecutor seized it.
“Whose blood?”
Walter looked toward his lawyer.
Too late.
The jacket, recovered later from a waste facility, had contained a small blood trace on the cuff.
Curtis Vale’s blood.
He had cut his hand while tampering with the rig the night before.
That placed Walter in possession of evidence tied directly to the sabotage.
The prosecutor stepped back.
“Mr. Mercer, almost every lie you told required someone else to carry the blame.”
Walter stared.
“Your son.”
“Your wife.”
“Your employee.”
“Your contractor.”
“Your grandson.”
She pointed toward Elliot.
“But he survived.”
Walter’s face became strangely empty.
The prosecutor’s final question was simple.
“Was that the one contingency you failed to plan for?”
May you like
Walter did not answer.
He didn’t have to.
