Chapter 6 - THE CELL BLOCK HUMILIATION
On Wednesday morning, twenty-four hours after his arrest, Jason Sullivan was sitting on a cold concrete bench in a eight-by-ten holding cell in the basement of the Cook County Criminal Courthouse.
The polished tailored suit he had worn to the boardroom was gone, replaced by a scratchy, bright-orange county jumpsuit that was two sizes too big. His designer leather shoes had been replaced by rubber slip-ons. His hair was messy, his eyes bloodshot from a night spent listening to the screams of drunk drivers and petty thieves in the adjacent holding pens.
The heavy steel slide of the cell door screeched open.
"Sullivan," a burly guard grunted, tapping his nightstick against the bars. "You got a visitor. Five minutes."
Jason jumped up instantly, his eyes filling with a desperate, pathetic hope. "Is it my legal counsel? Is it Arthur Croft?!"
"Move," the guard ordered, grabbing Jason by the arm and leading him down the bright hallway to a private attorney-client visitation room with a thick plexiglass partition.
Jason rushed up to the glass, pressing his hands against it.
Sitting on the other side of the glass wasn't a team of high-priced defense lawyers. It wasn't Arthur Croft.
It was his mother, Evelyn Sullivan.
Evelyn was a sharp, status-obsessed sixty-five-year-old woman who had spent the last decade bragging to her country club friends about her son's "immense financial genius" and his "sweet, quiet wife who knows her place." She sat in the metal chair, her pristine hair falling out of its spray, holding a handkerchief over her mouth, weeping softly.
"Mom!" Jason cried through the small mesh speaker. "Mom, thank God! Did you post the bail bond?! Did you talk to the judge?!"
Evelyn lifted her tear-stained face, looking at her son through the glass with a mixture of sheer embarrassment and total panic.
"Jason... what have you done?" Evelyn whimpered. "The news... it's on every channel! The country club canceled our family membership this morning! They froze my auxiliary credit card!"
"Don't worry about the country club, Mom!" Jason yelled, tapping the glass frantically. "Listen to me! You need to go to Nora. You need to fall on your knees, beg her for forgiveness, and tell her to drop the charges!"
Evelyn stared at him as if he had lost his sanity. "Go to Nora? Jason... do you have any idea who her father is?!"
"I know!" Jason spat, biting his trembling lip. "He's the Police Commissioner! He set me up! He used his power to ambush me in my own boardroom!"
"He didn't set you up, you fool!" Evelyn sobbed, slamming her handkerchief onto the counter. "I just came from the legal office downtown! The State Prosecutor showed me the documents! You forged Nora's signature on her dead mother's house! You stole millions from your clients! And your stupid little blonde assistant posted photos of herself destroying a baby seat on the internet!"
"Chelsea ruined everything!" Jason screamed, banging his fists against the plexiglass. "She wasn't supposed to attack the car! She was supposed to keep her mouth shut until we transferred the funds!"
The heavy metal door behind Evelyn opened, and Prosecutor Vance Reynolds walked into the visitor's booth, carrying a black leather portfolio.
Evelyn stood up immediately, clutching her designer handbag like a shield. "Mr. Prosecutor... please... my son made a mistake... he's a good boy... he was under stress..."
Reynolds ignored her entirely. He sat down in the chair opposite Jason, opened his portfolio, and pressed a series of papers against the plexiglass window.
"Mr. Sullivan," Reynolds said, his voice as smooth and cold as polished ice. "I am serving you with a formal notice of asset freeze executed by the Chancery Division of the Circuit Court."
"You can't freeze my accounts!" Jason yelled. "My grandfather built that primary trust!"
"Your grandfather's trust was liquidated two hours ago to satisfy the emergency forfeiture order issued on behalf of your embezzlement victims," Reynolds informed him calmly. "Furthermore, the state has placed a legal lien on your penthouse, your sports cars, your watch collection, and your corporate shares."
Jason collapsed back into his chair, his breathing ragged and shallow. "Nora... what about Nora? She's my wife! Half of her assets belong to me under marital property law!"
Prosecutor Reynolds leaned close to the speaker, a slow, merciless smile spreading across his face.
"Mrs. Nora Potter-Sullivan filed for an emergency annulment this morning on the grounds of criminal fraud, spousal deception, and forgery," Reynolds said softly. "The judge signed the decree an hour ago. You are no longer her husband, Mr. Sullivan. You have zero claim to her money, zero claim to her mother's house, and zero legal standing."
"What about my daughter?!" Jason choked out, tears finally spilling over his hollow cheeks. "What about Clara?!"
Reynolds closed his portfolio with a crisp snap.
"Mrs. Potter has filed a petition to terminate your parental rights permanently based on your co-conspiracy in the reckless endangerment of her pregnancy," Reynolds said. "You will never hold that baby, Jason. You will never hear her call you father. The only thing you will ever receive from her... is a photograph sent to your cell block once a year, if the Department of Corrections approves it."
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"No... no!" Jason began to scream, pounding his forehead against the heavy glass as the guards stepped into the cell to drag him back to his bunk. "Nora! NORA!"
Reynolds stood up, adjusted his tie, bowed politely to Evelyn, and walked out into the corridor, leaving the broken executive to scream into the empty air.
