Chapter 8 - The Deposition under the Glare of Fluorescent Lights
On Monday morning,
the fluorescent lights of Conference Room 4B inside the Chicago Municipal Legal Center hummed softly overhead.
The long,
polished oak table was lined with attorneys,
forensic accountants,
and official court stenographers.
At the far end of the table sat Clara Vance.
She was calm,
poised,
and relaxed,
holding a fountain pen between her slim fingers,
occasionally taking notes on a yellow legal pad.
Across from her sat Ethan.
He looked like a ghost of his former self.
His hair was unwashed,
his gray suit was stained and crumpled from three nights of sleeping in cheap motels,
and his eyes were sunken,
surrounded by dark circles of utter exhaustion.
He had no private attorney beside him.
His previous lawyer,
Arthur Pendelton,
had officially withdrawn from representation due to unpaid retainer fees.
Instead,
Ethan sat alone,
represented only by a court-appointed public defender who looked overwhelmed by the mountain of evidence stacked on the table.
Rachel,
Clara's chief attorney,
adjusted her glasses,
cleared her throat,
and tapped the microphone attached to the recorder.
"This is the official deposition of Ethan Cole,"
Rachel began,
her voice crisp,
professional,
and completely devoid of sympathy.
"Matter of Vance versus Cole,"
"in reference to corporate embezzlement,"
"identity fraud,"
"and civil restitution under Schedule C of the dissolution agreement."
Ethan squeezed his eyes shut,
his hands shaking beneath the table.
"Mr. Cole,"
Rachel began,
sliding a three-inch-thick binder toward him.
"Please turn to Exhibit A."
Ethan didn't open the binder.
"Please open the binder,
Mr. Cole,"
Rachel commanded sharply.
Ethan opened it with trembling fingers.
"Exhibit A,"
Rachel recited,
"contains twenty-four months of corporate wire transfers from Vance & Cole primary operating accounts into a shell company registered under the name 'Cole Luxury Holdings LLC.'"
"You are the sole registered agent of Cole Luxury Holdings,"
"is that correct?"
"I... I used that entity for business acquisition research,"
Ethan stammered,
his voice thin and cracking.
"Is it business acquisition research,
Mr. Cole,"
Rachel continued relentlessly,
"when ninety-two thousand dollars from that account was wired directly to an Italian shipyard for the chartering of a private yacht in Capri?"
"A charter,"
Rachel added,
turning a page,
"that occurred on July 14th,"
"a weekend when Miss Clara Vance was attending a tech symposium in San Francisco,"
"and while you were accompanied by Miss Vanessa Cole?"
Ethan looked desperately at Clara.
"Clara,"
he begged,
his eyes wide with panicked desperation.
"Please."
"You know how business works."
"You have to entertain prospective clients."
"You have to maintain an image!"
"We built that company together!"
Clara didn't flinch.
She didn't look up from her legal pad.
She simply made a tiny mark with her pen and said nothing.
"Answer the question,
Mr. Cole,"
the stenographer requested flatly.
"Did you authorize those wire transfers?"
"Yes!"
Ethan burst out,
his shoulders slumping in defeat.
"Yes,
I authorized them!"
"Because I was co-founder!"
"I had the right to manage company capital!"
"You had the right to manage company capital for legitimate corporate purposes,"
Rachel interjected,
sliding a second heavy binder across the table.
"You did not have the right to commit corporate tax fraud,"
"wire fraud,"
"or charge seventy-five thousand dollars of personal wedding expenses to credit accounts backed exclusively by Clara Vance’s personal trust fund."
Rachel turned to the court-appointed defender.
"Counselor,"
"your client has signed Schedule C,"
"which waives all rights to dispute personal liability."
"The total restitution demanded by Vance Global Capital and Clara Vance personally,"
"including accrued interest,
legal fees,
and audited damages,"
"stands at one million,
eight hundred and forty thousand dollars."
The public defender looked at the number,
then looked at Ethan’s crumpled suit,
and sighed heavily.
"My client,"
the public defender admitted quietly,
"has no current liquidity to satisfy this judgment."
"We understand,"
Rachel replied with a cold,
victorious smile.
"Which is why we are filing for an immediate judgment lien against all future earnings,"
"bank accounts,"
"and personal assets of Ethan Cole."
"Furthermore,"
Rachel concluded,
looking directly at Ethan,
"the State Prosecutor's office has been provided with these identical binder exhibits."
"A criminal grand jury is being convened tomorrow morning at nine."
Ethan felt his stomach turn entirely inside out.
He grabbed the edge of the table,
gasping for air,
May you like
realizing that financial bankruptcy was no longer his worst nightmare.
He was looking directly into the mouth of a federal prison cell.
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