Chapter 14 - The Prosecutor’s Office
The downtown municipal building smelled of wet umbrellas and bureaucratic exhaustion. Sergeant Miller met us outside the district attorney’s conference room, holding a thick manila folder labeled State v. Arthur Mercer.
“He tried to file an emergency injunction to halt the asset freeze this morning,” Miller said, leaning against the hallway wall. “Judge Callahan threw it out in under three minutes. When Arthur realized the judge wasn't even going to entertain his excuse about ‘family estate management,’ he tried to blame Linda for initiating the wire transfers.”
Grandma adjusted her wool scarf, her expression completely impassigned.
“Typical Arthur,” she said quietly. “He spent fifty years taking credit for every success in this family and blaming everyone else for every failure. Did the DA accept the felony fraud charges?”
Miller nodded slowly. “They’re moving forward with grand larceny of an elder, identity theft, and attempted property conversion. The arraignment is set for next Monday. He’s going to have to enter a plea, and given the paper trail from Maureen’s bank audit, a not-guilty plea is going to look like sheer perjury.”
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I looked over at Grandma. She didn’t look triumphant or vengeful; she looked like a woman who had finally finished a very long, exhausting chore and was ready to close the book.
“Thank you, Sergeant,” she said, shaking his hand firmly. “Make sure he gets a front-row seat to accountability.”
