Chapter 6 - The Wall of Federal Steel
The federal holding facility in downtown Chicago was a windowless titan of precast concrete and reinforced glass, entirely disconnected from the manicured lawns of the North District.
Sitting in a small, sterile visitation room behind two-inch-thick ballistic glass, Trent Montgomery looked like a ghost of the man who had dragged a wooden walking stick across his kitchen floor eleven days ago. His tailored designer clothes had been replaced by a coarse orange jumpsuit, his groomed hair was unwashed, and his right leg was encased in a bulky black orthopedic cast, elevated awkwardly on a metal bench.
Across the glass sat William Vance, his sleek corporate demeanor noticeably frayed.
"They've denied bail again, Trent," Vance said softly into the plastic phone receiver, his voice flat. "The federal magistrate classified you as a high-risk flight threat after the IRS tracing unit discovered the three secondary accounts in the Grand Caymans."
Trent slammed his left fist against the counter, sending a dull thud echoing through the small booth. "I don't give a damn about the Cayman accounts, Vance! Where is my father?! Why isn't he fixing this?!"
"Your father is currently being processed in Wing C," Vance replied coldly. "The Special Inspector General filed twenty-four counts of wire fraud, grand larceny, and bank fraud against Montgomery Development Group at eight o'clock this morning. Every line of credit your family owned has been frozen by court order. The firm is in involuntary bankruptcy."
Trent stared at his lawyer through the glass, his eyes wide with wild, uncomprehending panic. "And Claire? What about her brother? He broke into my house! He assaulted me! He shattered my knee!"
Vance let out a low, weary sigh, pulling a thick stack of court transcripts from his briefcase.
"The state prosecutor dismissed all charges against Alex Vance yesterday afternoon under the Defense of Third Parties statute," Vance explained. "The 911 audio, the forensic evidence of your wife's injuries, and the timestamped video recorded by your own sister established that Alex acted entirely within the bounds of lethal force prevention. If anything, Trent, you're lucky he didn't shoot you."
"She's lying!" Trent shrieked, his voice cracking against the glass. "She planned this! She recorded us!"
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"She didn't force your mother to scream 'Hit her harder,' Trent," Vance said, standing up and sliding his papers back into his bag. "The grand jury returns its indictment on Thursday. You are looking at fifteen to twenty years in a federal penitentiary. Start thinking about a plea deal, because if we go to trial with that video, you will die in prison."
Vance hung up the receiver and walked out of the booth, leaving Trent screaming curses against the glass until two guards forced him to his feet.
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