On the screen, the woman turned toward the exit doors and lifted her oversized black sunglasses to check the wall clock above the security desk.

Clara Sterling’s face filled the six-foot screen in crystal-clear high-definition color.

Julian stared at the projection wall, his jaw tightening as he reached up to adjust his silk tie again.

“That’s the same maternity coat my client reported missing from her bedroom closet three weeks ago,” Martha said, pointing her open fountain pen at the screen.

“And those are the withdrawal receipts Clara Sterling hid in a six-year-old child’s cardigan pocket this morning.”

“Your Honor, my client had no idea about Miss Sterling’s independent actions,” Julian’s lawyer said, standing up so fast his leather chair screeched across the linoleum.