//------------------------------// // Chapter 8 - Viva Las Pegasus // Story: Further Tales From Day Court // by Blade Star //------------------------------// The Realm of Equestria is many things, but a socialist paradise is not one of them. The works of Marx and Trotsky don’t really get much in the way of interest. The closest thing we’ve seen to anything resembling the left is Starlight’s equality philosophy, which was more of a ‘all animals are equal, but some are more equal than others’ kind of shtick. And that was more a cult of personality than any sort of genuine political construct. In terms of governance, Equestria isn’t that dissimilar to dear old Blighty; a monarchy combined with democratic governance. Of course, the diarchy is absolutist, rather than constitutional. The princesses' word is final on all matters at the end of the day. However, most local matters are looked after by elected officials. Ponyville, for example, is currently run by Mayor Mare, who I personally voted for last year. The higher up you go in government though, the more the princesses exercise authority. Equestria lacks any sort of legislative assembly like Parliament, but the princesses do maintain a council of ministers, of which I am a member, not unlike the Privy Council. It is this body which sets out laws and legislation for the realm. However, most business is conducted at a more local level. In that sense, Equestria is also a lot like America before its civil war; a loose collection of states gathered under a common banner. The princesses are of course, the political glue that holds everything together. Every city from Manehattan on the east coast, to Vanhoover in the west, and Appleloosa in the south and the Crystal empire in the north, acknowledge their absolute authority. Mind you, that authority is not brought from any divine right or other such religious nonsense. It is very much a case of might is right. As the beings who move the sun and the moon, and as the pair that directly succeeded the ancient rulers of Old Equestria, including the Unicorn Council that used to direct the sun and the moon (a job which left each member permanently drained of magic after one attempt), and as they were crowned by Starswirl the Bearded himself, their authority is unquestioned. In addition, being such an absolutist rule, and despite the initial democratic inroads, Equestria, in places such as Canterlot at least, also maintains a staunch class system. While not as common outside the city, in the upper echelons of pony society, there is very much an upper, middle and lower class. That however, thanks to Celestia’s efforts over the past couple centuries, is finally beginning to die off. Although some uppity unicorns, such as Blueblood, still cling to such outdated notions. But anyway, back to my point, Equestria is decidedly not socialist or communist. It does however, embrace the concept of capitalism quite readily. In that sense it is very much like the America it is based on. Ponies are expected to pay their own way and contribute to society, with a welfare system being somewhat limited, and in most cases unnecessary. At the same time though, there is still a strong respect for authority and adherence to tradition, as you might find in Britain. It would certainly be a mistake to say Equestria is just America filled with cute ponies and splashes of pink paint. While the realm has avoided many of the pitfalls of human nations back on Earth though, it is not without its problems. There is still a strong class imbalance, again, particularly in Canterlot, and at times, free market capitalism can cause more than a few problems. It was one of these problems that brought me into contact with a rather slimy character, and saw me reunite with two who I’d love to put bracelets on. Allow me to set the scene. It was lunchtime, and as is often the case, Celestia had invited me to take lunch with her and Luna. If nothing else, I think she needs somepony to keep the peace these days. They might have gotten over their little falling out from a thousand years ago, but that doesn’t mean they stop being sisters. Despite their age, they can be quite childish sometimes. So I find myself occasionally playing referee between the two, in order to keep the peace. Luckily for me, today, they both seemed in fairly good moods. Luna was still little tired from her nightly work walking the dream realm, but other than that, she seemed in good spirits. Celestia too seemed rather chipper. I know she normally likes to cook breakfast for herself and her sister, but today, she’d also offered to do lunch too. Apparently, it’s her way of showing ponies that she’s not so different from them. I know for a fact that sometimes some ponies do need reminding that Celestia isn’t some all powerful goddess. And it’s nice to let the kitchen staff take some paid time off to tend to their other duties. Today we were dining on a very tasty salad buffet that Celestia had prepared for the three of us. The both of them have hidden talents, and one of Celestia’s is most certainly cooking. As we all tucked in to the lunch, we made idle chit chat over the current comings and goings of the court. Even though I might not be needed, there’s usually plenty of interesting cases going on. “I was talking with Captain Mareclellan today,” Celestia commented. “He suggested that it might be in our interests to consider scaling back the Royal Guard somewhat.” Luna let out an indignant snort. “Of course he did,” she replied with a look of contempt. “That oaf may carry the rank of captain, but he is no soldier, sister. I would no sooner take military advice from him that I would from that potted plant.” She gestured to a bowl of petunias on the window sill. “It has been several years since the changeling incursion,” Celestia countered. “The increased security only makes ponies nervous when they come to the castle.” That is still no reason to lower our guard,” Luna answered. “Not while Chrysalis and her brood remain at large. And I need not remind you that we face other threats beyond those bugs. The Royal Guard is a token security force as it is. To reduce it further would be foolhardy.” Celestia turned to me. “What do you think, Roger?” she asked. “You know I always value your advice.” I set down my utensils. “Well Tia,” I replied. “As the saying goes ‘If you want peace, prepare for war’.” “Ha!” Luna said triumphantly. “At last, a fellow realist.” I have to agree with Luna, Tia,” I said. “I don’t much care for the way Mareclellan is running the guard. On the one hand, he’s cutting back, but on exercises, he’s always calling for reinforcements. He has no fight in him, that’s the problem. Shining may have let things get a little lax, but he rallied when it mattered. And he’s gone above and beyond more than once too. I don’t see Mareclellan standing toe to toe with the likes of Tirek.” “So what would you do?” Celestia asked. “Personally,” I said. “I’d be looking for somepony else. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a fine administrator, but a poor leader of men. He belongs in the Staff, not a command position. It’s just a shame we had to give up Shining to the Crystal Guard. But you said yourself, it was unfair to ask him to commute so much and risk his neck, especially now he’s got Flurry Heart to think about.” Celestia nodded thoughtfully before changing the subject. I guess she didn’t want to get into another tiff with Luna. “Shall I tell you about the report Twilight sent me?” she offered. “Oh, another friendship mission from that map thing?” I asked. Celestia nodded. “Applejack and Fluttershy were sent up to Las Pegasus,” she explained. I shuddered. Poor Fluttershy certainly wouldn’t much care for that place. “Well, they can’t have done worse than I did up there,” I said. Both sisters laughed. I’m more comfortable sharing some of my more embarrassing secrets with them, since I know they’ll stay confidential. And in that particular case, I had to tell Celestia that I’d gotten arrested. It was some time ago and was now just a funny story. “Well, you might be interested to know, Roger,” Celestia went on. “That the two of them have actually got a case for you in Day Court. I’m going to need your advice concerning Equestrian monopoly laws, as well as your knowledge of the tax code.” “Ooh, now this sounds interesting,” I said, paying a bit more attention. “Let’s hear it, Tia.” Celestia smiled as she saw she’d got my attention. “Does the name Gladmane mean anything to you?” I racked my brains for a few moments. “Oh, erm, yeah. He’s a casino, or resort owner, right? Runs one of the nicest resorts in Las Pegasus. Pretty serious player up in that neck of the woods. He’s got that whole self-made stallion thing going on. Nice enough guy too from when I briefly met him. Why, is he hauling in somepony for us?” Celestia shook her head. “Actually, it is Gladmane who is the defendant,” Celestia replied. “During their friendship mission to Las Pegasus, Applejack and Fluttershy met Gladmane, and uncovered evidence that he was attempting to create a monopoly for himself in the city, buying up the other properties in the city. The friendship problem they were sent to resolve, was caused by him goading his competitors and employees into arguing with each other to stop them from leaving or becoming a threat to his own business interests. He intended to cause the other resorts owners to fall out with each other to such a degree that they would leave, selling the business to him at whatever price he named.” I let out a low whistle at that. “Jeez,” I said with some surprise. “Machiavelli would be proud. He seemed like a nice enough guy when I met him.” Luna nodded. “He is indeed quite charismatic,” she agreed. “That was why his devious little game worked so well. While he caused all the arguments, everypony liked and admired Gladmane so much, nopony was willing to entertain the idea that he might have an agenda.” “Okay, that explains the monopoly charges,” I said with a nod as I tucked back into my lunch. “But what’s all this about tax law?” “Call it a hunch,” Celestia replied. “If Gladmane was willing to use such tactics in his pursuit of profit, I’m curious to see if he was being creative with his accounting as well. His resort does seem to have been quite successful, but from preliminary investigations, he doesn’t seem to have paid taxes for some time.” I saw how the land lay. “Ah, so you want me to do a Capone number on him then?” I asked. Now both princesses looked confused. Even after all these years, I still sometimes make references nopony gets. “A what?” Celestia asked curiously. I briefly explained. “Oh, erm, Al Capone was an infamous gangster. Back in the days of alcohol prohibition, he made a fortune running booze and all sorts of other operations, allowing him to operate above the law. They finally caught him, not by proving he was linked to murders, racketeering or smuggling, but by showing that he’d not been paying income tax, despite all his earnings. It’s a classic story in crime fighting.” Celestia pondered that notion for a moment. “Well then, I suppose the answer would be yes. In addition to bringing Gladmane up on monopoly law violations, I would like you to ‘do a Capone number’ on him.” “But you don’t want me to have him sleep with the fishes, right?” I asked with a grin. Celestia smiled knowingly, and once again proved that you can’t outfox her for love nor money. “I may not know everything about Earth, but I do know what that means, consigliere,” she replied in a serene voice. She’s occasionally called me that from time to time. A fair enough title, given my role as advisor and confidant. The three of us laughed and went back to finishing our lunch together. Celestia and I would then meet up in her chambers to discuss our plan of action regarding Gladmane. I know for a fact that one of Celestia’s pet peeves is ponies who use friendship as a means to manipulate others. Sadly, there was no law for that. But with ponies like Gladmane, to make your point, you have to hit them where it hurts; their wallet. And so, after lunch, I headed back to my office to make a start on the case. If I was going to advise Celestia, I needed both good knowledge of the case and knowledge of the relevant legislation. To that end, my desk was soon cluttered with a mixture of legal textbooks, and documents sent over by ERC; that’s Equestrian Revenue and Customs, the body responsible for overseeing taxation in the realm. Everything from basic PAYE tax, to import duties and of course investigations into non-paying taxpayers. Their investigation team had sent over a full file on Gladmane. It certainly made for some interesting reading. Gladmane owned several casinos and resorts in Las Pegasus, as well as managing several others, controlling a good chunk of the city. He lived quite well, owning a large and deeply ostentatious mansion just outside the city, as well as his own personal airship, which enabled him to get to and from his cloud home, despite not being a pegasus. All in all, he lived a pretty comfortable with life with a decent job. And yet, despite this, Gladmane had not paid a single bit of income tax for the past nine years. He’d reported no earnings above the tax threshold, and so had paid nothing. Now, it is a fact that, when you get to a certain level of rich, you live off your savings and the ERC stops calling. Celestia for example, does that. However, Gladmane, while reasonably wealthy, wasn’t that wealthy. He clearly had earnings, but hadn’t paid anything. A casino mogul doesn’t earn less than the tax threshold. So what in Equestria was going on? Frowning to myself, I took out a scrap of paper and jotted down a short note. The ERC had sent me information on Gladmane and his currently reported earnings, but I was rather curious about the state of his finances, and the ERC were the only ponies who could get me that information quickly, thanks to their teams of investigators. Leaving my office, I walked out of the castle and headed down to the Equestrian Union office to send the wire up to Baltimare, where the ERC was headquartered. It was right by the train station. I considered taking a cab, but since it was so nice out today; the local unicorn weather team had done quite a good job keeping the skies clear, I decided to walk instead. Crossing the drawbridge that lets you in and out of the castle. I walked down into the city proper. As it was just after lunch, the city was bustling with activity, and the good weather had brought both locals and tourists out to enjoy the pleasant afternoon sun. It was as I was making my way past the large park near the centre of the city, that a voice I recognised called out to me. “Hello, Roger!” a voice called out in a posh sounding southern England accent. Turning around, I saw who it was. “Fancy Pants!” I called back, changing my course to go over to Canterlot’s most upstanding noble. The two of us shook hands and hooves. “How the devil have you been, sir?” “Oh, absolutely peachy, my friend,” the moustached and monocle wearing unicorn replied. “I just wanted to say that I heard you were dealing with that business with Gladmane. Quite the black matter as I understand it.” Now, obviously, I wasn’t about to spill the beans to him on the ins and outs of the case. But there was no harm in divulging what information was already available in the public domain. Gladmane’s downfall had made front page news of the financial papers and several Canterlot publications. “Yes,” I replied with a nod. “He’s to brought up on monopoly law charges. Trying to force out his competition and run the whole city by himself.” “Well, to be blunt,” Fancy replied. “I’m just glad to see that oaf finally taken down a peg.” “Oh, not one of his fans then?” I asked. “He’s...well..New Money, as they say,” Fancy said delicately. “He doesn’t really understand the rules of the game as it were. And to be quite frank, despite his many books on how to get rich, he’s something of a poor stallion when it comes to managing his own expenses.” That got my attention. “How so?” I asked, doing my best to carefully probe. Fancy either didn’t see, or didn’t care that I had an interest in this information. Then again, he was never the sort to ask for favours like that. “Well,” Fancy explained. “As I understand it, despite his impressive holdings, Gladmane has made rather a mess of his finances; backed a few bad ventures you see. That nonsensical university for one that folded last year. Then there were his line of hotels in Manehattan. I can think of at least four or five other ventures that have cost him. Frankly I’m amazed to hear that he hasn’t had to file for bankruptcy after so many poor choices.” Now that was interesting. And if he was right, it also explained how Gladmane had avoided paying tax. He was using his losses to avoid paying anything on his existing earnings. A pony of his wealth could take the hit, and then use the tax code to allow him to build up a considerable sum of capital. A very clever, and also a very naughty trick, if I do say so myself. Thanking Fancy for the information and wishing him, and his own investments well, I continued on my way down to the telegraph office. I’d need proof more concrete than gossip from the nobility, but if Fancy was correct, we could make a serious dishonesty case against Gladmane. Heck, considering his business success, I half wondered if he might have intentionally taken a few sacrifices to dodge the taxation on his earnings. Sure, you lose a couple million bits in failed businesses. But what’s that compared to the saving gained by not paying the princess her share on a sum five times that size? Making my way down the hill toward the train station, I soon came upon the Canterlot branch of Equestrian Union; one of several companies, along with the Equestrian Postal Service, that operate telegraph systems across Equestria, providing communication, news wire services, and money transfers across the country. Stepping into the foyer, I walked over to one of the open counters, where I met a bespectacled unicorn stallion with a caramel coat and a chestnut mane. “Afternoon,” I said casually. “I need to send a wire to Baltimare, please. To the offices of Equestrian Revenue and Customs.” Without a word, the stallion reached under his desk and passed me your typical telegraph from. You put your name, where you wanted the message to go along with the message itself. The clerk then counted the words to work out the price, so I did my best to keep it brief. I ended up with the following. Request information Gladmane finances STOP Breach of code 112-B-67 STOP Investigation impossible without information STOP Send direct Canterlot Castle legal offices post haste STOP CLAUSE R.K.O Short, sweet, to the point, and it saved on the bill. Celestia may pay my expenses, but that doesn’t mean I should waste the crown’s money. This would go direct to the ERC offices, and they would then send me all the information they had on Gladmane’s financial affairs. That should allow me to paint a clearer picture of what had been going on. With the completed form in hand, I walked back over to the clerk. Passing the form to him, he quickly glanced over the content, counting the words. “That will be seven bits, sir,” he said calmly. I fished out my coin purse. Since Equestria doesn’t really have paper money, wallets aren’t really a thing here. “Could I have a repeat back on that as well, please?” I asked. Given that this was an important message, I wanted to be sure the right message went through. Repeat back meant that the operator in Baltimare had to repeat back to the operator in Canterlot what the message was, preventing any incorrect wording. “In that case, the charge is ten bits, sir,” the stallion said with a nod. I handed over the coins. With that, he briefly stepped away from the counter to pass the message on to one of the operators. A minute or so later he returned. “There we are, sir,” he said. “Sent and properly received. Here is your receipt.” I took the slip of paper from his magical grip. “Thank you. Good day,” I said, turning to leave. The receipt was my proof of postage in case there were any problems. As I stepped out into the sunlight again, my message had now reached the Equestrian Union offices in Baltimare and been transcribed by the operator. From there, it was passed to one of their runners, who would take the telegram to its intended destination. Give it say thirty minutes for the wire to be received, and I ought to get the actual records I requested some time this evening. Annoyingly, there was some delay with the ERC getting Gladmane’s files sent over to me. I suppose though that’s to be somewhat expected. Tax offices the world over aren’t exactly known for their speedy service. And while I am grateful for their assistance, I dread to think how many forms were signed and stamped in triplicate, sent in, sent back, lost, found, subjected to public inquiry, lost again, found again, and finally buried in soft peat for three months and recycled as firelighters, before I was authorised to view the records. In any case, when I came into my office the next morning, I found the parcel sitting on my desk, along with my usual collection of post. One of the guards had been good enough to sign for it at the gate. The manila envelope was thick and stamped with the words ‘documents enclosed’ on the front in red ink. Taking the letter opener from my desk, I cut open the envelope and emptied the contests onto my desk. There was a lot to go through. Once again, I found myself wishing that I could hire more staff. Still, there was no time like the present, so I began to go over both the reports that the ERC had compiled, along with the actual raw data they’d sent over, in the form of dozens of spreadsheets, as well as various financial documents, such as stock certificates, land and building deeds, and business registrations from Companies House. Needless to say, it made for some very interesting reading, and I was careful to jot down everything of note onto some scrap paper. In short, Fancy pants had been right. According to the official records, Gladmane was approximately nine million bits in the red as of four years ago, when several of his business ventures collapsed, and he suffered some pretty startling losses on the stock market. He’d reported this series of losses to the ERC when April rolled around, and as such, his subsequent earning had not been taxable Annoyingly, this was not only clever, but also entirely within the boundaries set out by Equestria’s tax code. He’d broken no law, but anypony would look on such behaviour as being pretty shady. I mean, how does it make sense for somepony to have a net worth of several millions, with income sufficient that they can do whatever they want, within reason, and yet not have them pay a single bit in tax? It cheesed me off, I can tell you. I filed that away for later. Right now, I was more interested in proving conspiracy to breach the Equestrian Anti-Monopolies Act. That wasn’t too hard to do. Aside from the fact that, thanks to AJ and Fluttershy, Gladmane had been tricked into proclaiming his little scheme across half of Las Pegasus for all to hear, there was also clear evidence in his finances. He’d put in several bids to the owners of several resorts and hotels in Las Pegasus, offering to buy them out. And when that hadn’t worked, based on testimony from staff and other ponies, he’d then resorted to his little mind games. Combined with Fluttershy’s and Applejack’s statements, as well as those of Flim and Flam, who I’ll come to in a moment, I had plenty of evidence against Gladmane, more than enough to safely bring a case home, no matter how many floors of legal experts he hired for his defence. His goose on that front was well and truly cooked. According the the law, the maximum sentence, which was what I would be pushing for, was a rather hefty fine that ran into seven figures. And while that would no doubt be crippling to Gladmane financially, he still had quite a sizeable amount of nontaxable income to live off. As I said before, if I wanted this to have any real effect on Gladmane, or any other business moguls who tried to play a fast one, I needed to really nail him in the coin purse. As I tried to think of a way around Gladmane’s ploy, my thoughts turned to Flim and Flam. Once upon a time, I dismissed them as harmless fraudsters, who’d probably end up tarred and feathered somewhere south of Appleloosa. After their little tonic incident, there was the whole issue of impersonating medical practitioners. Now though, they were seriously on my radar. While not quite as conniving as Gladmane, they really ground my gears, being nothing short of common shysters. Bones and Applejack too share a seething dislike of them. With good reason, considering the buggers tried to take their farm from them and almost put Granny Smith in the way of serious harm. The notion of those two jackalopes running a major Las Pegasus resort. Well, it sort of made sense actually. Heck, it was probably the best place for them. Where else was a fool so easily parted from his money, and it was perfectly legal. As long as they didn’t get too ‘ambitious’ as it were, I saw no problem with leaving them be. If nothing else, their presence kept the likes of the Cosa Nostra out of the casinos. Still, I’d keep my ear to the ground and keep a weather eye on Equestria’s version of Trip Advisor to watch for any shady practices or scams they started up. That was when the idea hit me. If I was going to get Gladmane, I needed to think like him. I needed to think like a conniving, semi-failed businesses pony and venture capitalist. I want to protect my earnings from taxation, so I intentionally take a few losses in order use it as a tax write off; a short term loss for a long term gain. That was entirely in the bounds of the law. Nopony could prove I’d done anything wrong because, as far as the law was concerned, I hadn’t. But I’m a smart pony, smart enough to manipulate others around me to get what I want. I’m not going to make a series of mistakes like that. I calculated it; worked out everything to ensure the losses weren’t too severe, but would be enough to keep the ERC off my back for years. If I could prove that Gladmane had intentionally caused financial losses...well, it was a stretch, but you could potentially use that to build a case for conspiring to evade income tax. That, considering the amount we were talking about, not only meant having his assets frozen for the duration of any investigation, but also some pretty serious jail time. It wouldn’t be easy, but if I could show that Gladmane knew what was going to happen with those failed investments, I might well just have a case. Putting any thought of Flim and Flam to one side, I started going through the papers again. I had a theory, now I needed to find the proof. Enough proof to throw it at Gladmane when he was in the box. A few weeks later, and Gladmane’s trial was underway. The issue had become serious enough, and there were sufficient concerns that Gladmane may well buy his way out of a Las Pegasus court (despite his actions, he still had quite a few friends in that city), the matter had been referred directly to Day Court and Celestia. Now, despite all my hard work to put this case together, I was more of a neutral party in the proceedings, along with Celestia herself. I would act as a sort of secondary judge, as well as in my usual role as Celestia’s advisor and legal expert. The case would be prosecuted by my good friend Wrought Steel. I’d shown him what I’d found, and Equestria’s Eliot Ness was chomping at the bit to start prosecuting. As we all prepared to start, Gladmane was brought in. He’d been under house arrest ever since he was caught, rather stupidly, trying to travel to the Crystal Empire when we subpoenaed him. They had promptly extradited him back to Equestria. He entered, dressed to the nines in a full suit, with six, no seven, lawyers trailing in his wake. They’d got him house arrest instead of a holding cell, and Gladmane, ever the show off, had another stunt he wanted to pull. As Gladmane and his pack of vultures that feed on the pain and misery of decent ponies took their seats, one, quite out of order, approached the bench and handed me a medium sized envelope. “Mr Owen?” the weasel faced pony asked. “Yes,” I replied. He handed me the envelope. “You’ve been served. Defamation of my client.” I took a look. It was real alright. Gladmane was actually suing me, for far more than I had too. Well, there was little to do about that now. It wouldn’t go anywhere anyway. This was Gladmane getting desperate. I didn’t give him anything in terms of reaction, merely folding the document and putting in my inside jacket pocket. Any kind of reaction now would just be ammunition for him to use later. I knew what he was planning. He was just the innocent victim; an honest accounting mistake and he’d been hounded by the big, nasty human and treated like a criminal. I conferred with Celestia for a moment. She agreed that the matter could wait until the dust settled. Gladmane would either see which way the wind was blowing and haul down his colours, or we’d go to court, I’d file a countersuit and I’d win, as his case was clearly baseless. To defame someone, they have to have not done the thing you’re accusing them of. Having let Gladmane throw his little tantrum, we prepared to get underway. I kicked things off. Getting to my feet, I read out the charge. “Gladmane,” I said. “You are charged with conspiracy to breach the Equestrian Anti-Monopoly Act and evading and conspiring to evade the National Income Tax, contrary to the Equestrian Taxation Code. How do you plead; guilty or not guilty?” Gladmane got to his hooves. “Not guilty,” he replied, in that poor imitation of Elvis of his. Now, once again in a serious breach of protocol and general good manners, another of his lawyers got up and, without asking, approached Celestia. Her raised eyebrow and look of vague contempt did not deter him from his course. “My lady,” he said, addressing Celestia as a judge of the high court, rather than a princess. “I must insist that this matter be dismissed summarily.” Celestia’s look of contempt became even more obvious. “You insist?” she asked, in a tone of ‘what did you just say to me, mortal?’ “Would you care to show grounds for such a dismissal, counsel?” “Prejudice against my client by one of the sitting judges, my lady,” he replied. A stunned silence fell over the room. By implication, he may well have just suggested that Celestia was biased. “Oh?” Celestia merely replied, staring down at him with the same look of vague contempt my cat used to give me. “And which judge do you refer to?” Now to prat saw his mistake and promptly back peddled. “Oh...erm...I was of course referring to Mr. Owen, your highness,” he replied hastily. Celestia however, was unmoved. She can be truly terrifying when the mood strikes her, as shown now. “So, to be clear,” she said, getting to her hooves. “You are accusing my legal advisor, who is not only an officer of this court, but a minister of my government, of being unable to set aside any feelings he may have against your client and try him fairly, based on the evidence presented?” “Yes, my lady,” the idiot said. Here came the obvious. Celestia let out a snort of mild annoyance. “How fortunate then that we have two judges in these matters for precisely that reason. Overruled.” Now Wrought Steel spoke up. “My lady,” he began, staying at his bench on Counsel Row like a good barrister. “I must apologise for learned, or not so learned, friend's behaviour. If you have no objection, may the Crown now state its case?” Celestia nodded serenely. “You may, Mr. Steel,” she said. Wrought was about to begin, but I noticed that the jackass from before was still standing before the bench, now looking decidedly unwell. Celestia glared at him. “Sit down,” she said, in the tone of a mother scolding her child. He quickly scurried back to his seat as Wrought got started. That reminds me. I haven’t told you about my trump card yet, have I? Previously, I’d had no concerns about the anti-monopoly charges, but I wasn’t too confident about bringing home a guilty verdict on the tax evasion charge. Now though, I had quite the ace in the hole. You see, the problem was that the whole case against Gladmane depended on proving that he had intentionally made poor business decisions. The only problem was that, when you looked at the maths (and I mean maths, not math; mathematics is a plural, you colonial swine), the losses were too great for him to simply shrug off. I’d previously thought that he’d used some of his disposable income. But when you looked at the figures, it just wouldn’t fly. So, I’d gone back to the ERC records and started digging through Gladmane’s life. And not just his financial life either. After his attempt to flee, I had pretty much a blank cheque in terms of warrants. And it was in these investigations that Wrought and I discovered something interesting. Five years ago, Gladmane’s father died. Now is that sad? Yes, of course, but it was also interesting. Contrary to popular belief, or his autobiography, Gladmane did not pull himself up by his bootstraps; he was born into money courtesy of his father. And when he had died, as his sole heir, his considerable fortune had been passed to Gladmane. See where I’m going with this yet? The inheritance was a sudden, massive cash injection. A windfall that he could safely squander, without jeopardising his financial security. That gave him means; the last part of the holy trinity in prosecution. And now Wrought was going to show us how it was done. Gladmane’s defence team, while no doubt expensive, wasn’t exactly skilled. Most of their case was smoke and mirrors, and attempts to plead their way down. The vast majority of these motions were overruled by Celestia, citing lack of supporting evidence. The ‘witnesses’ that they called were just some of Gladmane’s lackeys, who would say anything for the right price. They couldn’t really produce anything credible or of note to the case. The only thing they could do, was muddy the waters when it came to the tax evasion charge. That though wasn’t too hard. With their case, such as it was, stated, the impetus now passed to Wrought Steel, who would cross examine Gladmane and build his case for prosecution. He was on his feet almost as soon as Gladmane’s little pack had sat down. Walking from his desk on Counsel Row, he stopped in front of Gladmane, who sat in the dock. “Mr. Gladmane,” he began cordially. “Could you please tell the court about your father?” Gladmane left out a slight huff. “Well of course,” he began confidently. “My daddy came from Mustangia to Las Pegasus, back when the land below was still being mined for gold and gems. He had some good luck with his claim, properly invested it and did very well for himself. He’s always been an inspiration to me and my own businesses.” Wrought smiled slightly. “I understand that he passed away several years ago.” Now Gladmane looked a little worried. “Oh...erm, yes. It was all very sad for my family, and a real loss to the city of Las Pegasus.” Wrought continued with his cross. “And as I understand it, you were named the sole beneficiary in his will.” Gladmane now appeared to be sweating a little under his coat. And Wrought was just getting started. “Well, yes,” he replied. “I was his only child, so it made sense for his estate to go to me.” Steel’s smile broadened. “Quite the windfall as I understand it. What was it, forty-five thousand bits?” “I believe so, yes.” I was quite surprised at this point that none of his legal team had piped up. Wrought didn’t seem to be asking any questions related to the case. An objection against relevance could at least be made. Hell, if I didn’t know where he was going with this, I might do the same. Wrought moved in for the kill now. “Well, that’s quite interesting,” he said off handedly. “You see, our investigations with the ERC have thrown up some very interesting developments about that money.” He turned to Celestia and I. “My lady, I refer you to Crown exhibit B-264; a copy of the defendant’s financial activities the year his father died.” The two of us took a look at the file. “As you can see,” he went on. “That entire forty-five thousand lump sum was moved into a Hayman Islands account a few days after it was transferred to Mr. Gladmane. And it was subsequently invested into several business ventures and stock options which all suffered serious losses. This was money that the defendant could afford to lose in view of his sizeable fortune. And may I also point out that, prior to this, the defendant had not suffered any serious financial losses, despite several reckless decisions made on the markets. My lady, it is the view of the CPS that Mr. Gladmane used this disposable income to intentionally cause a loss to himself, sufficient to permit him to avoid paying income tax for the next several years.” Gladmane sat in the dock, looking defeated, and glaring at his lawyers, all of whom he quickly fired. The rest, as they say, is history. Celestia agreed with Steel and myself about Gladmane’s use of his inheritance. To lose some of it would be understandable. But to lose all of it in the space of two months, and then not suffer any other loss afterwards, it was all too perfect. The matter was eventually settled when Gladmane changed his plea. That, of course, reduced the sentence somewhat, but it was still quite the kick in the head. Celestia found Gladmane guilty of both breaching anti-monopoly laws, and also evading income tax. She hit him with an unprecedented fifty thousand bit fine for the monopoly attempt, and ordered him to pay back all unpaid taxes, plus interest. I also countersued him, and won, and he was ordered to pay my court costs. For legal reasons, I can’t disclose that full amount. What I can say, is that Gladmane didn’t pony up the dough, if you’ll pardon the pun. We gave him a month to set up a payment plan. He didn’t. He got served with a county court judgement in Las Pegasus and the ERC instructed bailiffs to get the money. Gladmane however, refused to budge. And as a result, six months later, I found myself instructing sheriffs from Day Court to go and fetch it. In the end, I had to sign off on a writ to take control of goods. Since Gladmane wouldn’t pay the fines and back taxes in bits, we ended up seizing his assets, including his airship and mansion. While not penniless, Gladmane was forced to file for bankruptcy protection. And until that’s discharged, he won’t be making any moves in the business world.