I stepped up to the wooden railing and laid the thick dossier on the bailiff’s outstretched clipboard.

“That packet holds a certified forensic audit of the trust, the original bank transfer logs, and verified proof of four hundred thousand dollars embezzled from a minor,” I said.

Richard rose from his chair, his face going a dark, blotchy red above his white starched collar.

“This is a ridiculous intrusion, Your Honor, my daughter was disowned years ago and has no legal standing in this county,” Richard shouted.

“Mr.