Fall from Grace

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Fall from Grace Page 12

by Danielle Steel


  Steve Weinstein introduced himself and said he’d been sent by Ed Chin, and she looked surprised.

  “You don’t work for Paul Zeller?”

  “No, I don’t. As I understand it from Ed, your work contract with Zeller states that if something like this happens in the line of duty, you’re responsible for yourself. Zeller is not going to help you. He washed his hands of you when you got arrested.” She was shocked by what he said. “Why don’t you tell me the whole story, starting with the trip to China and what happened there, and what happened in customs yesterday.” He took notes while she explained it all to him, and by the end of it, he agreed with Ed. She’d been set up to be the fall guy for Zeller if anything went wrong. And he strongly suspected that Zeller knew he was buying stolen goods, and probably not for the first time.

  “Did you ever suspect the bags were real and maybe altered in some way, and not copies?”

  “No, I didn’t. I thought the quality was unusually good. But they make some remarkable products in China. Everyone in the fashion industry uses their factories now. But I never, ever suspected they were stolen.” Everything about her suggested honesty and innocence to him. She looked dazed by what was happening to her.

  “Just so you know, Zeller is claiming now that you were in collusion with the manufacturer, and got a commission from them to bring stolen goods into the States.”

  “Oh my God.” She was horrified. “Do you think the judge will believe him?” There were tears in her eyes as she asked. This was the worst thing that had ever happened to her. Much worse than Andrew having left her out of his will, and losing everything.

  “Possibly,” the lawyer answered her honestly. “It’s my job to convince him that you’re innocent, which I believe is the truth.”

  “I am. I swear to you. I never suspected they were stolen goods. What are we going to do?” She looked bereft as she sat there, staring at him. “Can I leave now?”

  “Unfortunately, you can’t. The judge isn’t sitting today. I checked. Your arraignment is set for Monday, so you’re stuck here for the weekend. You can’t leave until you’ve been arraigned. That’s where you plead guilty or not guilty, and the judge will set bail. Probably for around fifty thousand dollars. I assume you can post bond,” he said, watching her face, and saw panic in her eyes. She didn’t have fifty thousand dollars left, or even close. And she had no collateral to get a loan.

  “And if I can’t?” she asked in a small voice.

  “Then you wait in jail for a grand jury hearing and eventually a trial. Or maybe I can get you released on your own recognizance. You’re not a flight risk. It depends what judge we get. We might even be able to get the case dismissed, if they don’t have a strong case against you. But I think Zeller would testify against you, to avoid prosecution himself. Everything he did was designed to make you responsible if he got caught. And so far, it worked. My initial fee to represent you is twenty-five thousand dollars. It goes up to fifty if I get the case summarily dismissed. And a hundred thousand if we go to trial. And criminal law fees are payable in advance. But I don’t think it will get to trial. At worst, I think they’ll make a deal for probation if you plead guilty.”

  “But I’m not guilty,” she said desperately.

  “There’s always a risk if you go to trial. Things could go wrong. Juries are unpredictable.”

  “Do you think I’ll go to prison?” she asked in a whisper.

  “Hopefully not.” But he didn’t want to promise what he wasn’t sure he could deliver. “But it could happen, if everything goes wrong, and if Zeller is out to bury you to save himself. I don’t want him on the witness stand against you. According to your friend, Zeller is a liar and a convincing one, and possibly a crook. I’m sure he knew they were stolen goods, but he’s not going to admit that to anyone. I’m going to do my very best to keep you out of prison, if you hire me. I’m sorry you have to sit here until Monday. There’s nothing I can do about that.” He was thorough, honest, and matter-of-fact.

  She nodded, unable to speak. She was thinking of what she’d say to her girls. She would have to tell them the truth. She just didn’t know when. And if she couldn’t make bail on Monday, she’d have to wait for trial in jail. And Steve Weinstein told her it could take up to a year to go to trial. “If you do hire me,” he went on, “I’d like to engage some detectives and see if we can find someone who can testify that Zeller knew he was bringing in stolen goods, and maybe even that he’s done it before. If we get lucky, someone will talk and you’ll be off the hook.” She was panicking as she listened to him. If everything went against her, she could wind up in prison. And as far as she was concerned, she might as well be dead. She was beginning to wish she were, not for the first time in recent months.

  “I’ll see you on Monday, Mrs. Wells,” he said as he stood up. “You can hire another lawyer after the arraignment if you prefer. But at least let’s get you out of jail.” She nodded and didn’t dare ask him how much he’d charge for that.

  She thanked him for coming to see her, and was taken back to her cell in handcuffs again when he left. She lay on her bed, thinking about everything he’d told her. She felt as though her life was over. She hadn’t moved, eaten, or gotten up, when Ed came to see her during visiting hours that afternoon. She had been advised that she had the right to a one-hour social visit per week. The guard told her she had a visitor, and she asked who it was.

  “I’m not your social secretary,” the officer snapped, put the handcuffs on again, and took her to a room where she was strip-searched before entering the visiting area. She saw Ed waiting for her and began to cry the moment she saw him. It tore his heart out when he looked at her and was allowed to hug her, and then they sat down in a small room full of inmates and their visitors. She was designated as a pretrial inmate. She looked terrible, as though she was in shock. She hadn’t felt that bad since Andrew’s death that summer.

  “Are you okay, Sydney?” he asked her, and she nodded as they held hands. She could hardly speak she was so upset.

  “Sort of. Thank you for finding me a lawyer. I never thought something like this could happen, or that Paul would turn out to be such a shit, and a dishonest person,” she whispered to him.

  “He’s very slick. I never trusted him. I told you that in the beginning, but I never thought he’d go this far. I quit this morning. He’s trying to claim you made a deal with the manufacturer to get himself off the hook.”

  “Steve Weinstein told me. I’m sorry you quit your job over this.”

  “I’m not.” He smiled at her. “It was time. I don’t want to work for a bastard like him.”

  “What am I going to tell my girls? They’re going to be mortified. Especially if it hits the papers.”

  “It could,” Ed said honestly, especially if they made an example of her, as Weinstein had suggested to him.

  “Imagine if I go to prison,” she said, looking terrified. Just the past twenty-four hours had nearly broken her spirit. Time in prison would kill her.

  “You won’t. You’re innocent. Maybe he can get the case dismissed.” She nodded but he could tell she didn’t believe him. She was humiliated and desperately afraid, and he couldn’t even hug her to console her, except at the beginning and end of the visit. But at least they could hold hands. And after an hour, they were notified that their allotted time was over. Ed hugged her again and she thanked him for coming and waved at him miserably as he left, and when he got outside in the cold December air, tears rolled down his cheeks. Sydney was being strip-searched for contraband by then, and was led back to her cell afterward.

  She lay on her bed after his visit and didn’t get up again. She didn’t eat, and on Saturday morning, she called Sabrina. She had to call her collect, and Sabrina took the call sounding puzzled.

  “Where are you?” There was an endless pause before she answered, as she choked back a sob. She could barely get the words out.

  “I’m in jail,” Sydney said miserably. “I didn’
t want you to worry if you tried to call me.” But Sabrina was even more worried knowing where her mother was. Sydney told her the whole story, and Sabrina was almost too stunned to speak.

  “I told you that guy was scum,” Sabrina said angrily, not sure who she was angrier at, Paul Zeller or her mother for being so foolish and naïve. The story didn’t surprise her, but she was horrified for her mother. “He has a terrible reputation. Can I bail you out?”

  “Not till Monday. The judge won’t set bail till then. And it might be very expensive.” She didn’t tell her she might not have the money to pay for it. She’d been careful with her salary, but her funds were running low.

  Sabrina asked for her lawyer’s name, and her mother gave it to her.

  “I don’t want you to come to court, though. Wait until I get home. And you can’t visit me. I only get one visit a week, and Ed Chin came to see me. He found the lawyer for me.” They talked for a few more minutes and then hung up. Sabrina called the lawyer immediately and discussed the whole situation with him, and he told her how bail worked and how much it might be. And then she called her sister, and Sophie cried pitifully when Sabrina told her what had happened. They both cried, worried about their mother, and Sophie was distraught that they couldn’t visit her. The situation was unbelievable.

  The two girls spent Saturday night together, and Sabrina told her everything the lawyer had said. She had already made the decision to pay her mother’s bail. Sabrina owned her own apartment and would use it as collateral with the bail bondsman. She wasn’t going to leave their mother in jail a second longer than she had to. Steve Weinstein had said he would walk Sabrina through the process on Monday morning before the arraignment.

  It was an endless weekend for all of them; Sabrina and Sophie worrying about what would happen to their mother, and Sydney lying silently in her cell, wishing she were dead.

  Chapter 8

  The arraignment on Monday morning was just as Steve Weinstein had told her it would be. It was uneventful, and there were no surprises. Sydney wore her own clothes to court. She pleaded not guilty to the charges of trafficking in stolen goods and attempting to import them. Steve first tried to get the case dismissed, but with her signature on all the importation documents, the evidence was too strong against her. And when Steve tried to get her released on her own recognizance, the federal prosecutor objected, and the judge refused. He set bail at fifty thousand dollars and moved on to the next case. Steve Weinstein’s worst fear was confirmed, that they wanted to make an example of her. The judge could easily have let her out on her own recognizance. She wasn’t a flight risk, but instead he had set bail. Sydney stood staring at the judge in despair for a minute, and then spoke to her attorney.

  “I’ll have to stay in jail,” she whispered. “I can’t pay the bail.”

  “It’s already been taken care of,” he answered quietly. “Your daughter Sabrina set it all up for you. As soon as I notify the bail bondsman you’ve been arraigned, and the amount of bail, you’ll be free to leave.” Tears rushed to Sydney’s eyes immediately.

  “I can’t let her do that. It’s not right.”

  “She also gave me a check for twenty-five thousand dollars for my initial fee, until we know if it’s going to trial.”

  Sydney was horrified by what she was costing her daughter, and she was out of a job too. She didn’t want to be a burden to Sabrina. The whole situation was mortifying. Steve tried to reassure her.

  “Let’s just get you out on bail, and we can worry about the rest later.” She looked even worse than when he’d seen her on Friday, and he knew she wouldn’t survive it for a year, if she didn’t let Sabrina post bail. And Sydney knew that too. Now she really had to sell the Paris apartment. It was all she had to sell to pay Steve’s fee for the trial. And she wanted to pay Sabrina back as quickly as possible.

  A guard led her away, and Steve went to post bail for her. Sabrina had already taken care of the financial details that morning, and half an hour later, Sydney was on the street with him, in her own clothes, and she let him take her home. She felt shell-shocked from everything that had happened. Glancing around at all the trees and buildings and people walking in the streets, she felt as though she had come back to earth after being terrified she was never going to be free again. They had been the four most frightening days of her life. And the guards and criminals were like actors in a bad movie. Only it was real.

  She walked into her apartment, sat down on the couch, and looked around as though seeing it for the first time. She called Sabrina and thanked her for posting bail, and promised to pay her as soon as she could. She was ashamed that her daughter had had to use her apartment as collateral.

  “What are you going to do now, Mom?” she asked her quietly.

  “I don’t know. Look for another job, I guess.” And she couldn’t even use her one recent job as a reference. “What about you? Have you heard back from any of the places where you interviewed?” She was worried about Sabrina now too. Everything was in a mess again.

  “Not yet.” They both tried to keep the conversation normal, and not mention the fact that she’d just been in jail. Her life had become a sordid tale of losing her husband, her home, her money, being arrested, and going to jail. And what if she was convicted and went to prison? She couldn’t even let herself think about it. She had an appointment at Steve Weinstein’s office the next day to discuss the grand jury and what lay ahead. Sabrina promised to bring dinner over that night, and said Sophie was coming too. Sydney said she was too tired to go out. She had hardly slept in four days.

  And as though on cue, the phone rang again when they hung up. She hadn’t bothered to look at who was calling, and almost groaned when she heard Veronica’s voice. It was laughable. She had called to tell her that the twins were selling some of her favorite paintings at Sotheby’s. Veronica had seen them in the catalog and recognized them immediately.

  “I thought you should know,” she said sympathetically, and this time Sydney was in no mood to be polite to her.

  “Why? Do you think I’m going to buy them back?”

  “Of course not, I just thought…”

  “That it might upset me more than I already am? As a matter of fact, it does. Why don’t you call me with good news sometime? That would be a lot more fun.”

  “Fine. I’ll do that,” she said brusquely and hung up a minute later. Sydney was totally fed up with people who wanted to take advantage of her, like Paul, or wanted to make her feel bad, like Veronica. She felt better after she had brushed her off. Ed called her after that. On the spur of the moment, she invited him to join them for dinner that night.

  “After all this, I want you to meet my girls.” He sounded hesitant, not wanting to intrude, but he agreed to come, and she thanked him again for finding Steve Weinstein for her.

  “I’m seeing him tomorrow to discuss the case,” she said.

  “They should be putting Zeller in jail, not you,” Ed said angrily.

  “Steve said he wants to hire a detective to see if he can get someone to admit that Paul knew they were stolen goods.”

  “That sounds like a good idea.” She told him to come at seven, and he arrived before the girls. He brought her a bunch of flowers to cheer her up, and a bottle of wine to share with her daughters. And he invited her to lunch the next day.

  When they arrived, the girls were startled to see someone in the apartment they didn’t know. Sydney introduced them, and they were all shy at first. Ed was nervous that they would hate him because of where he’d worked. And the girls were uncomfortable for the first few minutes. They had brought Thai food and sashimi from downtown, and by the time they set it out on their mother’s small dining table, they were talking about fashion with Ed and had found common ground. Sydney smiled as she listened to them, and life began to seem normal again. They didn’t bring up the court case until the end of dinner, and by then they were into their second bottle of wine, and everyone had relaxed. Ed liked both of Sydney’s
daughters, and they all agreed that they hated Paul Zeller and what he had done to her.

  It was after midnight when they all left. It had been a nice evening, and Sydney sat in her living room, thinking of where she had been the night before. She still couldn’t believe she had been arrested and now she had to go to trial. And she was embarrassed that her daughter had had to post bail for her. But if she hadn’t, Sydney would still be in jail. It was the first time she had ever been dependent on her children, and it wasn’t a good feeling. She felt like an utter failure, and things had been going so much better for a while.

  —

  Sydney was up early the next morning to go to Steve Weinstein’s office, downtown near the federal courthouse. They spent two hours going over every detail of the case. She agreed to let him hire a detective to see what they could find out about Paul. She didn’t know how she was going to pay for it, but she knew she had no choice. And they discussed the grand jury investigation that would be conducted in secret and would determine if the case went to trial.

  Sabrina called her as soon as she left the lawyer’s office, with good news for a change. She had gotten the job she wanted, for a higher salary than she’d had before. Sydney hoped it meant that their luck had changed. At least something wonderful had happened to her daughter. It buoyed her spirits as she rode the subway back uptown. Sophie called her as soon as she got home.

 

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