New Gods of North America.

Chapter 667 Witnesses and Interrogations

That evening, as the detective agency's partners were reviewing the assessment results and the examiners' suggestions, discussing the division of labor for the new members,

In a working-class neighborhood in Richmond, William Garcia, as usual, unscrewed his bottle, intending once again to find a brief moment of peace and relaxation in the company of the barrels of cheap liquor being sold sporadically by street vendors.

William Garcia's family was originally quite well-off; his father ran a reasonably sized interior design company and, thanks to the connections he had built up over many years living in Richmond, secured some of the city's public building repair contracts.

Although the profits from those orders were not as high as they seemed, and the proportion of the profits that needed to be distributed in advance or that never arrived was actually quite high, the orders kept coming in one after another, so it was still a decent job.

His parents even gritted their teeth, cut back on daily expenses, and managed to obtain a letter of recommendation to send him to an "academy" that held a particularly special place in the hearts of southerners.
If he could graduate smoothly and pass the licensing exam, he would have the opportunity to become a respected lawyer from a prestigious university, and his family might be able to move to an even more enviable neighborhood. Therefore, although he found the studies somewhat difficult, he persevered just like his classmates.

However, the theater accident two years ago destroyed all of that.

Accident compensation, company bankruptcy, his mother's death, and his father's suicide—the house where William Garcia had lived for many years was ultimately reduced to a sum of money to pay off bank debts. He wasn't even allowed to take some of his less valuable personal belongings.

Unable to continue his studies, he could only become a carpentry apprentice with the help of his father's old friend, doing manual labor that he used to look down on but is now not very good at, earning a meager salary that, while not enough to starve, offered no future.

Having read his father's diary, William Garcia is now fully aware that there was something fishy about the determination of responsibility for the accident.
Andrew Price, the state legislator and president of the Virginia Institute of Architects who secretly gave key instructions and should have bore the main responsibility, was completely unaffected and later became the new Secretary of State.
Other decorating companies directly responsible for the accident were also deemed unrelated, and ultimately, with their corroboration, all responsibility and compensation fell on William Garcia's father.

William Garcia was once angry too.

Unfortunately, no member of the state legislature accepted his complaint, and the court dismissed his lawsuit. He also tried to leak information to reporters, but no report published any relevant evidence. The newspapers only contained denunciations and accusations against his father, calling him an unscrupulous contractor.

He knew his father's decorating company wasn't entirely innocent, but the primary responsibility for the accident did indeed fall outside the scope of his father's duties.
There is no reason why only his father should be a criminal while others can remain uninvolved, especially the most crucial mastermind.

In a fit of anger and despair, William Garcia secretly purchased a lever-action rifle, which was forbidden in the city, intending to sacrifice his own life to send the hypocritical, cunning, and ruthless politician to hell to repent for his greed and malice.

On the day he was preparing to take action, he was apprehended by two secret security personnel before he even got close to the state government building.

William Garcia was then taken to a luxurious carriage, where he was seated with State Senator Walter, whom he had seen a few times from afar.

Mr. Walter's expression at that moment was not as warm as when he usually met with voters:
“You are Garcia’s son, right? I know about the tragedy that happened to your family and I am sorry for everything you have gone through, but attacking a public official is an unforgivable crime, and you had no chance of success from the moment you bought the gun.”

“For the sake of knowing Garcia for so many years, I’ll pretend today’s events never happened. You won’t have a criminal record, and I can even arrange a job for you that will be enough to make a living. Go back, and don’t come back. I believe Garcia wouldn’t want his only child to be shot dead on the spot as a criminal caught in the act.”

It turns out I don't even have the talent to do bad things...

But what else can I do?

William Garcia forced himself not to recall those past events while taking another big gulp of wine.

Inferior liquor tastes astringent, harsh, and has an unpleasant aftertaste, but what gradually emerges is a warmth and tranquility that allows one to temporarily forget fatigue and troubles.

Not bad either.

"Dong dong dong."

Just then, a knock came from the door, which wasn't very heavy.

William Garcia was no longer entitled to live in a detached house, and his cheap short-term rental apartments, with their cramped single rooms and shared bathrooms, were frequented at night by drunkards who knocked on the wrong door, as well as scammers and thugs looking to make a quick buck.
So his response this time was completely different from his past self: "F**k off! Whoever you are, get away from me!"

The person outside the door was quiet for a moment before tentatively asking, "Excuse me, are you Mr. William Garcia?" His voice sounded quite polite.

Mr. William Garcia...

This combination of words sounds really distant.

……

The next afternoon,
William Garcia, who had enjoyed a large meal beforehand, was invited to the state legislature hearing amidst much attention and then sat in the witness box.

He was wearing a relatively decent new suit, the money for which came from the gentleman who had visited him the previous night. The fabric wasn't as good as his old clothes, but it didn't show any signs of wear and tear.

That should be enough to make him look less like the kind of down-on-his-luck vagrant or homeless person who would commit perjury for a reward.

Hearings are special meetings held by parliaments at all levels to review government actions, investigate controversial issues, or advance the legislative agenda. Apart from closed-door hearings, they are generally open to the public; theoretically, anyone can participate as an observer upon application.

However, apart from public hot topics, most hearings are almost never attended by irrelevant personnel. The approval process in this regard is actually quite strict, and even political reporters in newspapers cannot be easily replaced.

This hearing, completely unrelated to the theater accident at his father's company, was actually examining whether Secretary of State Andrew Pryor had properly fulfilled his oversight obligations regarding the election of certain state legislators. Such hearings are a routine procedure for the state legislature to exercise its oversight power over state government officials.
Another suspect is the current president of the Virginia Institute of Architects, who is suspected of using improper methods during the state legislator election.

The person who came to the door last night didn't identify himself, but William Garcia had accompanied his father to the bank before and recognized him as a local bank employee—the kind who didn't work at the counter but had a small, private office.
The other party wanted him to testify about a illicit affair between Secretary of State Andrew Pryor and the congressman—this was not a slanderous accusation; William Garcia's father had written about it in his diary, and his family's decorating company was actually a small part of the entire chain of illicit dealings.

The entire hearing was set up somewhat like a courtroom, except that the "judge's seat" was occupied by a row of committee members facing the audience, the "defendant's seat" was occupied by the seemingly relaxed and talkative Secretary of State, and William Garcia was finally seated in the witness stand.

After William Garcia placed his hand on the Bible and swore an oath guaranteeing the objectivity and truthfulness of his testimony, the committee members responsible for the hearing began to ask questions:

"Mr. William Garcia, can you prove that Mr. Andrew Price was indeed aware of the improper methods used in the election process?"

William Garcia knew he couldn't.
He was a law student, and although he didn't finish his studies, he knew just how strict the legal definitions were in this regard, and how a competent politician or lawyer could refute them. Such flimsy arguments couldn't truly harm a seasoned politician.

“I am not aware of the specifics of the election at the time. However, I have other evidence to prove that Mr. Andrew Pryer’s family did indeed have a dominant position in the Virginia Institute of Architects.”

William Garcia paused briefly, and only continued after sensing that everyone's eyes were now on him:

"Three years ago, a fire broke out at the state archives, resulting in the deaths of eleven people and the destruction of countless precious historical documents. At that time, Mr. Andrew Price and my father both attended and spoke at the relevant hearings in the state. They jointly accused the state archives' lighting supplier, proving that the fire was caused by substandard lighting fixtures."

"But in fact, they were all giving false testimony. Mr. Andrew Pryor knew all along that the wood materials used by my father's company were not fireproofed, which was a key reason for the rapid spread of the fire, but he asked my father to conceal it and instructed my father to lie with him at the hearing."

"As a manager at the decoration company at the time, I was briefly involved in that project, and I should be able to find records of my signing for materials on behalf of my father in some confirmation documents. Those documents can prove that I was indeed aware of the actual situation at the time."

There was an uproar at the scene.

"Deliberately committing perjury at the hearing?!"

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

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

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

"Boom, boom, boom."

The atmosphere gradually calmed down only after the hearing moderator repeatedly struck the gavel.

The committee member in charge of the questioning couldn't help but confirm, "Mr. William Garcia, do you know that if what you say is entirely true, then as someone who knew about it and was directly involved at the time, you certainly cannot escape responsibility?"

William Garcia nodded. “I know. But last night a gentleman from Schwarz Investments gave me a lot of encouragement and made me realize that I should not continue to hide my sins. Although my father has passed away and the decorating company has gone bankrupt, as his only son and legal heir, I am still willing to take responsibility for this sin.”

William Garcia wasn't actually aware of the specifics of the matter at the time. He was simply curious about the company's daily operations and had been allowed by his father to stay there for a while.

But as a law student, having the opportunity to consider things in advance and actually sitting in the witness stand, he understood even more clearly where the real killer move lay for a politician.

There's a joke in the law school that when a politician is asked at a hearing whether he has ever killed someone, the most sensible thing to do is to admit it.

In legal cases, there is often room for ambiguity regarding murder. For example, whether it was an accident, whether the other party attacked first, whether the true cause of death was a pre-existing medical condition, or whether there was another perpetrator. Lawyers have many ways to argue their case.

However, if a politician is exposed for deliberately lying at a hearing, their political career is practically hanging over.

—The political arena often doesn't need the truth; what it needs is trust, tacit understanding, and dignity.

Compared to election fraud, deliberately lying at legislative hearings and being publicly confirmed is the real capital offense for sitting politicians.

William Garcia believes that his willingness to plead guilty and expose the other party's deliberate concealment will be the strongest evidence in this matter.

According to normal human logic, lying is a minor matter; directly participating in a crime is a major issue. No one would willingly bear the burden of a life simply to accuse someone of lying. The public's basic emotional understanding would lead them to perceive this as the truth.
However, the Secretary of State was a competent politician. Seeing his expression change from relaxed to so agitated, he clearly realized what this nobody really wanted to say.

There was no further uproar at this moment, but whispers began to rise again.

"Schwarz Investment Company...I don't recall ever hearing about them having a conflict of interest with the Architects Association?"

"Are there any large-scale construction projects in the state recently, and bankers who have heard the news are scrambling to secure investment opportunities?"

“I just think they’re really bold; the Secretary of State’s last name is Pryor…”

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

Sometimes all you need to do is give them a name, and they can automatically complete the whole story.

As for those damn bankers...

If they hadn't been so eager to recover their loans, the father's company and the family's property might have had a chance to be saved; it was they who delivered the final blow.
I never expected they would try to take advantage of me this time. How ridiculous.

They shrewdly believed that they could bribe a down-on-his-luck pauper with just a small sum of money.
But they seemed to have completely overlooked the fact that what this penniless man dreamed of most was actually the opportunity to testify.

William Garcia didn't have anything to accuse those misers, but he could tell them what happened last night—someone should be able to deal with them.

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

I've had enough of needing to get drunk to fall asleep peacefully.

It's your turn next.

(End of this chapter)