Chapter 12 - The Deposition Under Oath
At 9:45 AM on Monday morning, the exterior plaza of the Everett McKinley Dirksen United States Courthouse was swarming with financial reporters.
Microphones with network foam covers bristled like a thicket of reeds beneath the towering red sculpture of Alexander Calder's Flamingo.
Rumors of the asset-freeze injunction had leaked to the Wall Street Journal and Bloomberg at midnight.
Mercer Apex Holdings shares had dropped twenty-two percent in pre-market overseas trading.
A black Town Car pulled up to the curb.
Grant Mercer stepped out into the freezing sleet.
He was wearing an impeccably tailored charcoal overcoat, a silk scarf, and dark designer sunglasses.
He strode past the yelling reporters with his chin held high, flanking his newly hired defense counsel, Thomas Vance—no relation to Natalie, but one of the most ruthless white-collar litigators in the Midwest.
"Mr. Mercer! Is it true the Sterling family has withdrawn cornerstone financing?" a reporter yelled from behind the steel security barricades.
"Mr. Mercer! Did your wife file criminal negligence charges regarding the Lake Shore Drive collision?"
Grant said nothing, staring straight ahead as he pushed through the revolving brass doors into the federal courthouse security checkpoint.
Ten minutes later, Grant sat at the end of a long walnut deposition table in Conference Room 14B on the ninth floor.
Across from him sat Natalie, flanked by Julian Reed and an assistant court reporter whose fingers hovered over a stenotype machine.
Natalie was dressed in a tailored navy wool suit with high lapels that concealed the medical sling holding her arm.
Her posture was perfect, her chin elevated, her green eyes fixed upon Grant with unblinking scrutiny.
To the surprise of everyone in the room, the door opened quietly at 9:58 AM, and Arthur Sterling walked in.
Arthur did not look at Grant.
The silver-haired patriarch took a seat in the back corner of the observation gallery, folding his hands over his silver-headed walking stick.
Beside Arthur sat Victoria Sterling.
Victoria wore no jewelry except for a pair of modest pearl earrings.
Her face was pale, scrubbed clean of heavy cosmetics, her eyes swollen from days of weeping.
Grant’s heart leaped with a sudden surge of venomous hope.
He leaned toward his attorney, whispering rapidly: "Victoria is here. She’s coming back to her senses. Arthur brought her to settle this quietly."
"Quiet, Grant," Thomas Vance hissed under his breath.
"Let me control the room."
Julian Reed stood up, smoothing his tailored suit jacket, and looked at the certified court reporter.
"This is the deposition of Grant Douglas Mercer in the matter of Mercer v. Mercer, consolidated with Chancery Action 2026-CH-04819."
"The witness is under oath."
Julian turned toward Grant, resting his hands lightly on the table.
"Mr. Mercer, on the evening of Thursday, February 12th, where were you between the hours of 5:00 PM and 11:30 PM?"
Grant adjusted his silk tie, offering a polished, charming smile toward the camera mounted on the wall.
"I was attending an executive dinner and strategic partnership conference at the Bellweather Hotel downtown."
"Who was present at this meeting?" Julian asked.
"Several key international institutional representatives, advisory legal counsel, and prospective shareholders."
"Was Ms. Victoria Sterling present in private residential suite 14B with you during that time frame?"
Grant’s attorney immediately tapped the table.
"Objection. Irrelevant, invasive, and designed to harass the witness on marital matters not pertinent to the asset valuation."
"I will rephrase," Julian said calmly.
"Did you receive an emergency telephone call from Lakefront Medical Center triage at 6:02 PM informing you that your wife had been admitted with cranial trauma?"
Grant’s jaw hardened slightly.
"I received numerous notifications on a secured corporate device."
"As I explained to my wife privately, I was locked in a sensitive negotiation."
"I was led to believe the incident was a minor fender bender involving superficial paint damage."
"Is that why you told her to have the hospital desk order her a car?" Julian asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I wanted her to have professional transportation home so she wouldn't have to wait in the cold," Grant said smoothly.
"I was acting out of consideration for her comfort while fulfilling my fiduciary duties to my shareholders."
In the back of the room, Victoria Sterling let out a ragged, trembling breath.
Julian did not react.
He reached into his leather briefcase and pulled out a digital recording transcript.
"Mr. Mercer, let us turn to Exhibit 14-A."
"On Tuesday, February 10th, did you personally access the fleet telemetry console for Midwest Hauling Logistics?"
Grant’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second.
"I oversee thousands of logistics nodes across North America, Julian."
"I don't micromanage individual vehicle diagnostics."
"Did you execute an emergency executive override for pneumatic brake line failures on semi-truck cab 414?" Julian pressed, his voice tightening like a steel cable.
"Objection!" Thomas Vance yelled, slamming his pen onto the legal pad.
"Counsel is venturing into unindicted regulatory matters outside the scope of this financial discovery proceeding!"
"I am establishing fraudulent concealment of marital debt and intentional reckless endangerment that directly impacts the valuation of Mercer Apex Holdings," Julian answered without flinching.
"Answer the question, Mr. Mercer," the court-appointed discovery referee ordered from the end of the table.
Grant leaned forward, his eyes burning with controlled fury.
"I don't recall specific technical authorizations made during a ninety-hour workweek."
"Allow me to refresh your recollection," Julian said.
Julian pressed a button on a small audio speaker placed in the center of the table.
Grant’s own voice blasted into the deposition room:
'I don't give a damn about a pressure sensor failure... If that shipment misses the Friday delivery window, our fourth-quarter logistics margins drop by three million dollars... Tell the driver to pump the reserve lines manually and keep his speed under fifty... Override the tag immediately.'
The silence that followed was deafening.
Thomas Vance looked down at his legal pad, his shoulders sagging in defeat.
He knew, as every lawyer in the room knew, that the recording constituted prima facie evidence of criminal reckless conduct.
Grant’s face turned an ashen, sickly white.
His eyes darted wildly toward Arthur Sterling in the corner.
Arthur’s face remained an unyielding mask of stone.
"Where did you get that?" Grant whispered, his voice shaking with sudden terror.
"Did you obtain that audio from the secure server?"
"Your mistress provided the secondary encryption key, Grant," Natalie spoke for the first time.
Her voice was soft, melodic, and devastatingly clear.
Grant whipped his head toward Victoria.
Victoria looked directly into his eyes, her tears finally drying, replaced by a cold, searing disgust.
"You told me that truck was certified, Grant," Victoria said aloud, ignoring the decorum of the deposition room.
"You told me to sign the insurance waiver so the SEC wouldn't look into Midwest Hauling."
"You were going to let me go to federal prison for vehicular manslaughter while you fled to Zurich with my father's money."
"Victoria, shut your mouth!" Grant shouted, jumping to his feet and knocking his leather chair backward onto the floor.
"Mr. Mercer, sit down immediately or I will hold you in summary contempt!" the referee barked.
Grant stood there, breathing heavily, his hair disheveled, his tailored facade completely shattered.
He looked around the room and saw the trap closing around him from every single direction.
Arthur Sterling stood up slowly from his chair.
"The deposition is concluded for our purposes, Julian," Arthur said in a dry, resonant voice.
"My daughter has already signed her proffer agreement with the United States Attorney’s office."
"She will be testifying before the federal grand jury at two o'clock this afternoon."
Arthur walked toward the heavy oak door, pausing behind Grant’s shoulder for just a second.
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"You should have called your wife that car, Grant."
"Because you are going to need a very long ride where you're going."
