Motherfucker.
“That’s incorrect.”
“Is it? Because I think you’ll find, DS White, that your medical records show?—”
“Do you actually have my medical records or are you just trying to pull a fast one?” Oliver cut across him.Keep it together, keep it together, keep it together.
The barrister looked as though he was about to snap back, when the Judge cleared her throat and inclined her head. “Doyouhave a copy of the witness’ medical records or not, my learned friend?”
Oliver loved it when legal people played the‘my learned friend’card. Respectful, yet mildly patronising.The barrister dropped his gaze. “No, your Honour.”
The Judge nodded. “Then I expect this line of questioning will be irrelevant, don’t you?”
One juror shook her head, which Oliverreallyhoped was aimed at Patrick’s legal team and not at him.
“Y-Yes, your Honour. Shall I move on?”
Oliver leant forward and pressed his mouth to the microphone. “Please do,” he said, tilting his head. He knew the question was aimed at the Judge, but he just couldn’t fucking help himself.
The barrister scowled. “Alright then, DS White. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you produced the report that led to Mr Coletta’s arrest, yes?”
Oliver cleared his throat and gently drummed his fingers across the top of his bump. It drew Patrick’s gaze again, but Oliver forced himself to remain focused on the barrister, because he wasnotgoing to let the defence team swipe his legs with an abuse of process allegation. He hummed and licked his bottom lip. “I produced a report following the diffusion day with AlfieSpears. Ultimately, it was an intelligence package that led the investigation toward Mr Coletta.”
“That you produced, yes?”
Oliver tried not to smirk as he shook his head. “Incorrect. I believe DC Purslow produced that report.”
“With whom you are good friends, yes?”
He coughed, catching sight of Nancy in the public gallery. He held up a hand to disguise the small smile pinching his lips. “Can’t stand the girl,” he muttered, running his tongue across his teeth.
The barrister frowned. “Sorry, DS Reed, what was that?”
Oliver dropped his hand. “White. I said that’s correct.”
Smirking, the barrister swished his black robe and turned towards the jury. “Then I put it to the jury that thesigma,Oliver White, with the help of DC Purslow, fabricated the report against my client in some ill-placed attempt at revenge.” He turned back towards Oliver.
Oliver tilted his head again and leant towards the microphone. “Sorry, revenge for what?”
The barrister looked pleased with himself, as though he had been rehearsing the whole sketch for days. “For Mr Coletta ending the relationship, and the loss of your unborn child.”
Oliver raised an eyebrow, contemplating the statement. “The relationship ended almost seven years ago. And I thought you said I had a termination. Why would I seek revenge for that?”
The barrister dipped his head and shuffled his notes against the desk. “W-Well, for the sexually transmitted infection, then.”
Oliver pursed his lips and gave the barrister a sympathetic look. “I thought you said I infectedhim?”
The barrister slowly withered under the scrutiny of the courtroom. “W-Well, and the… the… report that my client… made… against your brother?—“
“You said I arranged the attack.”
The Judge rolled her eyes and waved her robed hand. “Sit down, mylearned friend.”
The barrister crumpled in his seat, and Oliver could hear Nancy snickering quietly. “You are free to go, DS White.”
Oliver nodded as he slid from the witness box, ramming his tongue into his cheek to stop himself from grinning. He spared one final glance for Patrick as he strode past the perspex barrier that separated him from the jurors.
“Fuck you,” Patrick mouthed as he rose to his feet. The clinking of chains and low growls from the prison guards soon had the alpha retreating back to his seat.
