Chapter 667: Witness and Interrogation

That evening, as the partners of the Detective Agency were reviewing the new members' assignments based on assessment results and examiner recommendations,

in a commoner's district in Richmond, William Garcia, as usual, uncorked his bottle, once again seeking temporary peace and relaxation with the cheap barrel wine sold by street vendors.

William Garcia's family background was originally quite good. His father ran a moderately sized decoration company, and by leveraging some connections accumulated over years of living in Richmond, he undertook some renovation orders for public buildings in the city.

Although the profits from those orders were not as generous as they appeared on the surface, with a significant portion needing to be shared in advance or never being received, fortunately, the orders were continuous, making it still a good business.

His parents even gritted their teeth, economized on daily expenses, and obtained letters of recommendation to send him to study at 'the Academy,' which held a particularly special status in the hearts of Southerners.

If he could graduate successfully and pass the bar, he would have the chance to become a respected lawyer from a prestigious school, and their family might even be able to move to a more enviable neighborhood. Therefore, despite finding his studies somewhat difficult, he still persevered diligently like his classmates.

However, the theater accident two years ago ruined everything.

Accident compensation, company bankruptcy, his mother's death, his father's suicide—the house William Garcia had lived in for many years subsequently became merely a number for clearing bank debts, and he wasn't even allowed to take some low-value personal items.

Unable to continue his studies, he could only become a carpenter's apprentice with the help of his father's old friend, doing physical labor he once looked down upon and now wasn't very good at, living on a meager salary that kept him from starving but offered no future.

After reading his father's diary, William Garcia now knew that there was something fishy about the accident's liability determination.

Andrew Pryor, the state legislator and chairman of the Virginia Construction Association, who had secretly given key instructions and should have borne primary responsibility, suffered no negative consequences whatsoever and later became the new Secretary of State.

Other decoration companies directly causing the accident were also deemed unrelated to it. Ultimately, with their mutual corroboration, all responsibility and compensation fell upon William Garcia's father.

William Garcia had once been angry.

Unfortunately, no legislator in the State Assembly processed his complaint, and the court dismissed his lawsuit. He also tried to leak information to reporters, but not a single report published relevant evidence. The newspapers still only contained condemnations and accusations calling his father an unscrupulous contractor.

He knew his father's decoration company was not entirely innocent, but the primary responsibility for that accident was indeed unrelated to the part his father was in charge of.

There was no reason for only his father to become a criminal while others remained uninvolved, especially the key mastermind.

In anger and despair, William Garcia eventually secretly purchased a lever-action rifle, which was not allowed in the city, intending to sacrifice his own life to make the hypocritical and cunning black-hearted politician repent his greed and malice in hell.

However, on the day he prepared to act, he hadn't even approached the state government before he was apprehended on the spot by two secret security personnel.

William Garcia was then taken to a luxurious carriage, where Mr. Walter, a state senator he had seen from a distance a few times before, was seated.

Mr. Walter's expression at the time was not as amiable as when he usually met with constituents:

"You are Garcia's son, aren't you? I know about the changes your family has suffered and I regret everything you've endured, but attacking a public official is an unforgivable felony. Moreover, from the moment you bought the firearm, you had no chance of success.

"Out of my long-standing acquaintance with Garcia, I will pretend today's events never happened. You will not have a criminal record, and I can even arrange a job for you that is enough to make ends meet. Go back, and don't come again. I believe Garcia would not want his only child to be shot on the spot as an active criminal."

So, I don't even have the talent for doing bad things...

But what else can I do?

William Garcia, while trying to suppress revisiting old memories, took another big gulp of wine.

The cheap wine tasted astringent, harsh on the throat, and had an unpleasant off-flavor, but what gradually emerged afterward was a warmth and tranquility that allowed one to temporarily forget fatigue and worries.

It wasn't bad.

"Knock, knock, knock."

At that moment, a knock suddenly came from outside the not-so-sturdy door.

William Garcia no longer had the right to live in an independent house, and in cheap, short-term rental apartments with narrow single rooms and shared bathrooms, there were plenty of drunks knocking on the wrong doors after getting intoxicated at night, as well as some scammers and thugs looking to make a quick buck.

So his response at this time was completely different from his past self: "F**k off! Whoever you are, get away from me!"

The person outside was silent for a moment, then tentatively asked, "Excuse me, is this Mr. William Garcia?" The voice sounded quite refined.

Mr. William Garcia...

That combination of words felt truly distant.

...

The next afternoon,

William Garcia, who had enjoyed a hearty meal in advance, was led to the State Assembly hearing room under everyone's gaze and then seated in the witness stand.

He was now wearing a relatively decent new suit, funded by the gentleman who visited last night. The fabric was not too good compared to his old clothes, but it also bore no marks of labor.

It should be enough to make him not look like a down-and-out wretch or a homeless person who would commit perjury for money.

Hearings are special meetings of various levels of assembly to review government actions, investigate controversial events, or advance legislative agendas. Except for closed-door hearings, they are generally open to the public; theoretically, anyone can attend as an observer by applying.

However, apart from hot-button issues, most hearings are rarely attended by unrelated individuals. The approval process for this is usually quite strict, and even political reporters for newspapers cannot easily be replaced.

This hearing was completely unrelated to the theater accident of his father's company. It was actually reviewing whether Secretary of State Andrew Pryor had properly fulfilled his supervisory duties for some intra-state legislative elections. Such hearings are a routine exercise of the State Assembly's oversight power over state government public officials.

Another suspected party was the current chairman of the Virginia Construction Association, who was suspected of using improper means during the state legislative elections.

The person who visited last night did not introduce himself, but William Garcia had previously accompanied his father to the bank for business and recognized that the other party was actually a local bank employee—one who didn't work at the counter but had a private small office.

The content the other party wanted him to testify about was to confirm that Secretary of State Andrew Pryor had private financial dealings with that legislator—this was indeed not a slander. William Garcia's father's diary contained relevant information, and their decoration company was actually a small branch in the entire chain of financial dealings.

The setup of the entire hearing room was somewhat like a courtroom, except that the "judge's bench" was occupied by a row of relevant committee members facing the public, the "defendant's stand" was occupied by the Secretary of State, who originally looked relaxed and chatty, and William Garcia was now finally seated in the witness stand.

After William Garcia took the oath with his hand on the holy book, guaranteeing objective and truthful testimony, the committee members responsible for the hearing began to ask questions:

"Mr. William Garcia, can you prove that Mr. Andrew Pryor was indeed aware of the improper means used during the election process?"

William Garcia knew he couldn't.

He was a law student; although he hadn't completed his studies, he knew how strict the legal definitions were in this area and how a qualified politician or lawyer could refute such claims.

Such flimsy reasons could not truly harm a seasoned politician.

"I was not aware of the specific circumstances of that election. However, I have other evidence that can prove that Mr. Andrew Pryor's family indeed has control over the Virginia Construction Association."

William Garcia paused for a moment, and after feeling everyone's gaze on him, he continued:

"Three years ago, a fire broke out at the State Archives, resulting in eleven deaths and the destruction of countless valuable historical documents. At that time, both Mr. Andrew Pryor and my father attended the relevant state hearing and both made statements. They jointly accused the State Archives' lighting supplier, proving that the fire was caused by substandard lighting fixtures.

"But in fact, they both committed perjury at the time. Mr. Andrew Pryor had long known that the relevant wooden materials used by my father's company were not fire-treated, which was a key reason for the rapid spread of the fire, but he demanded my father conceal it and instructed him to lie together at the hearing.

"As a manager of the decoration company at the time, I participated in that project for a short period. My material receipt records, affixed on behalf of my father, should be found in some confirmation documents. Those documents can prove that I indeed understood the true situation at the time."

The scene instantly erupted in an uproar.

"Deliberately committing perjury at a hearing?!"

"Did I hear that right? Is what he's talking about completely unrelated to today's hearing?"

"Shut up, rookie, this is the real big news."

Even Andrew Pryor temporarily lost his composure, stretching out his arm and pointing directly at William Garcia: "He's lying!"

"Dong, dong, dong."

Finally, under the continuous gaveling of the hearing's chairman, the scene gradually quieted down.

The committee member responsible for the interrogation couldn't help but confirm: "Mr. William Garcia, do you know that if what you've stated is entirely true, then as an informed person and direct participant at the time, you certainly cannot escape culpability?"

William Garcia nodded: "I know. But last night, a gentleman from Schwartz Investment Company gave me great encouragement, making me realize that I shouldn't continue to conceal my wrongdoing. Although my father has passed away and the decoration company has gone bankrupt, as his only descendant and legal heir, I am still willing to bear this responsibility."

In fact, William Garcia at the time was not aware of the specific details of this matter. He was merely curious about the company's daily operations then, so his father allowed him to stay on site for a while.

But as a law student, when given the opportunity to think ahead and actually sit in the witness stand, he knew even more clearly where the real killing blow for a politician lay.

There's a joke in the law department of the Academy that when a politician is asked at a hearing if he has ever committed murder, the most rational thing to do is to admit the fact.

Murder often has room for maneuver legally, for example, whether it was an accident, whether the other party attacked first, whether the true cause of death was the deceased's own illness, whether there was another perpetrator, and so on. Lawyers have many ways to argue.

But if a politician is exposed for deliberately lying at a hearing, his political career is almost certainly over.

—Politics often doesn't need truth; it needs trust, tacit understanding, and decorum.

Compared to election fraud, deliberately lying at a legislative hearing and being publicly confirmed is the true capital offense for incumbent politicians.

And William Garcia believed that his willingness to confess and expose the other party's deliberate concealment would be the most powerful proof of this matter.

According to normal human logic, lying is a minor issue, while direct participation in a crime is a major problem. No one would be willing to bear the burden of a death, just to accuse others of lying. The public's simple emotional perception would lead them to view this as truth.

However, that Mr. Secretary of State was a qualified politician; seeing him go from relaxed to so agitated, he clearly realized what this small person truly wanted to say.

The scene did not erupt in an uproar again this time, but quiet murmurs started up once more.

"Schwartz Investment Company... I don't recall them having a conflict of interest with the Construction Association?"

"Is there a major construction project in the state recently, so bankers who received the news are vying for investment slots?"

"I just think they have a lot of guts. The Secretary of State's surname is Pryor..."

Most of the reporters and gentlemen in the observer's gallery were familiar with local political and business circles.

Sometimes, all they needed was a name, and they could automatically fill in the entire story.

As for those damned bankers...

If they hadn't been so eager to recall their loans at the time, his father's company and the family's property actually would have had a chance to be barely preserved. They delivered the "final blow."

He hadn't expected them to try to use him this time; it was truly laughable.

They cleverly thought that by spending a small sum, they could buy off a down-and-out pauper.

Yet they seemed to have completely failed to consider that what this pauper truly dreamed of was this opportunity to testify.

William Garcia had nothing to accuse those misers with, but he could talk about what happened last night—someone would deal with them.

Thinking of this, William Garcia turned to look at Andrew Pryor, who was sitting a little further away, and let out a slight sigh of relief.

I'm tired of days when I need to get drunk to sleep peacefully.

Now it should be your turn.