Chapter 5 - The Deposition
Three weeks later, the deposition room on the forty-second floor of the Cook County Courthouse was lined with polished mahogany panels and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Lake Michigan.
Richard Calloway sat across the long conference table.
He looked ten years older than he had on the night of the gala. He wore an ill-fitting gray suit he had clearly borrowed from his defense attorney. His hair was unwashed, dark circles shadowed his hollow eyes, and the arrogant, charismatic confidence that had defined him for twenty years had vanished completely.
Beside him sat his criminal defense lawyer, a nervous man in a rumpled suit named Miller.
On my side of the table sat Evelyn Vance, crisp and imposing in a black pinstripe suit, with two thick stacks of legal files laid out neatly before her.
I sat in the center, wearing a simple burgundy blouse, my hands clasped calmly on the table.
"Mr. Calloway," Evelyn began, her voice smooth and razor-sharp as she opened the top file. "We are here today to formalize the division of assets in the matter of Calloway v. Calloway, as well as to review the civil restitution terms for the recovery of converted gallery funds."
Richard didn't look at Evelyn. He stared straight at me, his eyes wide, bloodshot, and pleading.
"Catherine..." Richard rasped, his voice rough from three weeks in county detention before his brother managed to post his reduced bond. "Catherine, please. You don't have to do this. We can settle this privately. I made a terrible mistake, I know that now—"
"Mr. Calloway," Evelyn interrupted sternly, tapping her gold pen against the mahogany table. "You will address your responses to me, and you will refrain from emotional appeals to my client."
Richard’s lawyer, Miller, put a hand on Richard’s arm, whispering in his ear. "Keep quiet, Richard. Let me handle this."
Miller turned to Evelyn. "Miss Vance, my client is prepared to sign over his remaining equity in the Grand Ashford business entity in exchange for your client dropping the civil conversion suit regarding the painting."
Evelyn let out a short, cold laugh that echoed through the room.
"Equity in Grand Ashford?" Evelyn asked, raising an eyebrow. "Mr. Miller, the Grand Ashford Gallery is currently eighty-two thousand dollars in debt to its suppliers, facing three federal felony indictments, and its commercial lease was terminated fifteen days ago. That equity is worth less than the paper your suit is printed on."
Miller flushed red, shuffling through his papers. "My client has personal assets—"
"Your client's personal assets were purchased almost exclusively with funds embezzled from the gallery’s joint operating account over the past three years," Evelyn stated calmly, pulling a certified audit report from her stack. "Including a seventy-five-thousand-dollar wire transfer to a private jewelry store in Paris last March for a pair of diamond earrings that were recovered from Miss Vanessa Pierce's apartment."
Richard flinched as if he had been slapped.
"Here are our terms," Evelyn continued, sliding a thin white document across the table. "Take them or we go to trial on Monday morning, where my client will seek treble damages for breach of fiduciary duty, fraud, and intentional infliction of emotional distress."
Miller picked up the document, his eyes darting rapidly across the text. His jaw dropped.
"This... this is an absolute surrender!" Miller stammered. "You're demanding the full liquidation of the primary residence in River North, total forfeiture of all marital investment portfolios, full legal custody of Hannah, and fifty percent of any future royalties or profits from Mr. Calloway's personal art advisory services!"
"That's correct," Evelyn said smoothly. "And in exchange, my client will agree not to submit her forensic accounting reports to the federal prosecutor currently handling Mr. Calloway's criminal fraud case—reports that prove he personally authorized the falsification of provenance records for four other paintings over the past eighteen months."
Richard gasped, grabbing the edge of the table. "You... you audited the whole inventory?!"
I looked across the table, meeting Richard’s panicked gaze for the first time since entering the room.
"You thought I only handled artist submissions and coffee orders, Richard," I said, my voice quiet, steady, and utterly devoid of pity. "You forgot that I was the one who set up our accounting system in 2004. I knew every account, every password, and every hidden ledger. You weren't a genius, Richard. You were just a thief who thought his wife was too blind to see what he was doing."
Richard slumped back into his leather chair, staring at me as if I were a complete stranger.
"Catherine..." he choked out, tears finally filling his sunken eyes. "I gave you twenty years of my life..."
"No, Richard," I corrected softly, standing up from my chair and buttoning my coat. "I gave you twenty years of mine. And tonight, I'm taking the rest back."
Evelyn slid a heavy black fountain pen across the table toward Miller and Richard.
"You have ten minutes to sign, Mr. Calloway," Evelyn said, standing up beside me. "Otherwise, the federal prosecutor is waiting for our call at eleven o'clock."
Richard looked down at the black pen resting on the polished mahogany wood. His hands shook violently as he reached out, his fingers wrapping around the barrel.
He didn't look up as his signature scraped across the bottom of the page.
We walked out of the courthouse into the bright, crisp afternoon sun.
Evelyn adjusted her sunglasses, a deep, satisfied smile playing on her lips. "That, my dear Catherine, was a masterclass in total surrender. You are officially a single woman, the sole owner of your home, and the proud holder of a very clean bank account."
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"Thank you, Evelyn," I said, pulling her into a tight, warm hug. "I couldn't have done this without you."
"You did it yourself twenty years ago," Evelyn said, tapping my shoulder gently. "You just forgot how strong you were. Now, go see Arthur. He's waiting for you at the new building."
