Chapter 6 - The Trap Shuts
Gregory Wallace sat in the interrogation room of the Cook County 1st District precinct, his hands shaking so violently that he couldn't hold the plastic cup of water the detective had left on the metal table.
Across from him sat Arthur Pendelton. But Arthur wasn't there to rescue him. Arthur looked twenty years older, his designer suit rumpled, his hair unkempt, his eyes bloodshot with rage.
""You signed the loan guarantees, Gregory,"" Arthur said, his voice a ragged whisper. ""The forensic team pulled your digital signature from the offshore accounts. You were moving pharmaceutical kickbacks through my logistics subsidiary.""
""You told me to do it!"" Gregory yelled, his voice cracking with hysteria. ""You said it was standard operational margin trimming! You told me everyone does it!""
""I never told you to put it in writing, you fool!"" Arthur hissed, slamming both fists onto the table. ""My accounts have been frozen! The SEC has an open subpoena on my family trust! And do you know who purchased my outstanding commercial notes this morning?""
Gregory stared at him, breathing shallowly. ""Who?""
""A private holding company named Rossi Enterprises,"" Arthur whispered, terror lacing every syllable. ""Do you understand what that means? Rossi! The sister you slapped isn't just some orphaned nobody from the South Side! She is Dominic Rossi’s only living family!""
Gregory’s jaw dropped. The name hit him like a physical blow to the chest.
Even an insulated, arrogant corporate climber like Gregory Wallace knew the name Dominic Rossi. Rossi was the ghost king of the city's waterfront, the man who controlled the Teamsters locals, the private shipping lanes, the political slush funds, and the backroom arbitration courts where Chicago’s real disputes were settled.
""No..."" Gregory stammered, pulling at his collar. ""No, she... she had a firefighter husband who died! She drove an eight-year-old Honda! She worked double shifts!""
""Because she chose to!"" Arthur roared, standing up so abruptly his metal chair screeched against the concrete floor. ""Because her brother respected her wish to live an honest life! And you hit her! In front of twenty witnesses! On high-definition security tape!""
The door to the interrogation room clicked open.
Instead of the detective, a tall, impeccably groomed man in a bespoke three-piece suit walked in, carrying a thin leather portfolio. It was Marcus Kane.
Arthur immediately went pale, stepping back toward the corner of the room with his head bowed. ""Mr. Kane. I... I had no knowledge of this. I swear on my children, I had no part in what Gregory did.""
Marcus didn't even glance at Arthur. He pulled out a chair, sat down across from Gregory, and placed the portfolio on the table.
""Mr. Wallace,"" Marcus said with the serene calm of an undertaker. ""The State’s Attorney has just approved a four-count criminal indictment against you: aggravated battery of a pregnant person, workplace harassment, tampering with medical public safety records, and third-degree felony embezzlement.""
Gregory grabbed Marcus’s sleeve, tears streaming down his face. ""Please! I’ll plead guilty! I’ll apologize publicly! I’ll get on my knees on live television! Just tell Dominic Rossi not to kill me!""
Marcus gently peeled Gregory’s fingers off his jacket sleeve with an expression of mild distaste. ""Mr. Rossi is a legitimate businessman, Gregory. He does not kill people over corporate infractions. That would be messy, vulgar, and unnecessary.""
Marcus opened the portfolio and slid three legal documents across the table.
""What... what are these?"" Gregory asked, wiping his nose with his sleeve.
""These are the transfer agreements for your condominium, your pension fund, and your personal vehicles,"" Marcus replied smoothly. ""In addition, this third document is the full assumption of your outstanding two-hundred-and-forty-thousand-dollar debt to the Gary gaming syndicates, which Rossi Enterprises acquired at dawn.""
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Gregory stared at the papers, his mind spinning into madness. ""You’re taking everything I own?""
""Every single penny,"" Marcus confirmed politely. ""And in exchange, Mr. Rossi will ensure that you serve your five-year mandatory minimum sentence in the minimum-security wing of the state correctional facility, rather than the maximum-security tier where several of his less civilized associates reside. Sign the papers, Gregory. Or don't. The choice is entirely yours.""
