I watched Mr. Ez's lips begin to tremble violently, a nervous sweat breaking out across his forehead despite the courtroom's cool air conditioning. His ambitious eagerness had completely evaporated, replaced by the crushing weight of exposure.
He was an amateur, a clumsy fraud attempting to play a high-stakes game. The sight was deeply satisfying, proof of my correct assessment of his character.
"From your physical reaction alone, Mr. Ez, it looks like you're guilty of a significant ethical breach," I stated, my voice ringing with certainty. I didn't need a subtle approach anymore; I needed the definitive answer. "You just have to answer me directly. Yes or no. Did you have the authorization to print such sensitive documents, even if you claim to have found them?"
He swallowed hard, his eyes darting frantically toward the prosecutor, who looked paralyzed with impotent rage. Finally, the witness replied, his voice barely a shaky whisper. "No, I don't."
