The first day of the trial was marching on about as well as the arraignment had gone. I couldn’t believe Hudson had managed to land me with just one week to prepare Mark Delaney for what was to come, and I needed every second I could get with him.

It was nearly lunchtime, all the opening statements already come and gone. I sat at the defense’s table, leaning forward with a steely gaze on Hud as he stood in front of Delaney, who had been called to the stand for cross-examination. These were dangerous waters. Delaney was the single biggest liability to the whole case, just by sheer force of his nasty personality.

If I was going to help him survive Hud, I was going to have to fight dirty.

“Mr. Delaney,” Hudson said, folding his hands behind his back and standing as still as a statue, peering at Mark with an iron gaze. “Let’s begin by discussing your history as a developer. Can you tell me a little about the Sunset Vista condominiums? Is that name familiar to you?”

My client leaned forward in his seat, smirking. “Obviously. They’re mine,” he said.

“And can you tell me where you came up with the money to purchase these properties?”

Delaney rolled his eyes. “A loan through Southwestern. That’s the whole reason we’re here, asshole.”

“Stick to answering the questions Mr. Barrington rehearsed with you, Mr. Delaney,” Hudson said.

“Your Honor,” I interjected, “the prosecution is badgering my client.”

“Stay on topic, Mr. North,” the judge warned, and Hudson gave a single nod.

“Can you tell me the name of Sunset Vista before you acquired the condos?” he went on, tilting his head to the side.

“Red Rock,” Delaney said after a moment’s thought.

“And can you tell me why you paid…” Hudson looked through a folder in his hands, raising his eyebrows at the figure. “$2.1 million for properties that still haven’t turned a profit yet?”

“The condos were overdeveloped,” Delaney said. “The previous owners went bankrupt because they built too much that they couldn’t fill. They needed better management with better ideas to fill things out and turn it into the moneymaker it is today. New management like me,” he added with a smirk.

“Someone like you, yes,” Hudson said, scratching his chin and flipping through a few pages in his folder. “Let’s talk about some of your plans for the condos.”

“Objection,” I said with a groan, “relevance?”

“I expect this to be going somewhere, Mr. North,” the judge said, and Hudson beamed.

“Well, Your Honor, I was just curious about what kind of turnkey operation the defendant had in mind, because I’m looking at police reports from Sunset Vista condos from the time Mr. Delaney acquired the properties-”

“Objection!” I shouted, but Hudson kept talking.

“-and I’m looking at not one, not two, but fifteen arrests for prostitution on the properties in the span of just two years.”

Delaney held back a wince on the stand, and I ran my hand over my face. Hud was smiling at me.

“Mr. Delaney,” Hud said cheerfully, “do you have any commentary on that?”

“I can’t control what my tenants choose to do in their spare time,” he said carefully, just as I’d trained him.

“That’s true, you can’t,” he said, “but I believe you can choose what to do with yours, and if you don’t mind my saying, and I’m looking at three charges of solicitation in your own record-”

“Objection!” I shouted, standing up. “Your Honor, my client was not convicted of any such charges, the prosecution is being deliberately misleading and attacking my client’s character on an unrelated matter.”

“Sustained,” the judge said, glaring at Hudson. “Mr. North, the defendant is not on trial for hiring sex workers, is there a point to this line of questioning?”

“Only that if Mr. Delaney is as immersed in the city’s prostitution scene as he seems to be, that suggests a need for supplemental income,” Hudson said, “which is not the attitude of someone able to legitimately give the condos the work they needed to become profitable.”

“Objection, that is a gross conjecture!” I said, looking exasperated at the judge. “Your honor, this is character assassination.”

“More like character suicide, if your client is keen on turning condos into sex motels,” Hudson snapped, and the judge’s gavel banged three times.

“Sustained!” the judge barked.

But just as I thought I could breathe easy, Delaney spoke up, looking red in the face.

“Those hookers were lying and they knew it,” he snapped. “Those fucking bitches wouldn’t know a good investment if it hit them in the face!”

“Motion to have that statement struck from the record,” I said urgently.

“Granted,” the judge said, running his hand over his face as I glared at Delaney, who was still fuming. “Let’s take a recess. And you two,” the judge said, glaring at me and Hudson, “keep away from each other. I don’t want a murder charge on top of everything else today.”

Hudson and I glared at each other across the room, and I felt my heart pounding. It had been all too easy for him to get a rise out of Delaney and make him seem like someone who was unstable, abusive, and a bad investor--exactly the kind of person who would commit lending fraud. Hudson was taking low blows.

This was going to be a long trial.