Page 2 of Heist

Patrick wasn’t expecting to feel so disturbed by just how old he looked, but the man seemed downright frail. Oh, how the mighty have fallen, he thought as he watched his father ease himself into a chair.

“All rise,” the bailiff called a few minutes later. “The honorable Carl Longworth presiding.”

As Patrick and Holly and the rest of the crowd stood, the judge came in with his black robe billowing around him.

He adjusted his glasses on his thin face and opened the folder before him. The bailiff called out the case number and pertinent information as everyone settled back into their seats.

The judge cleared his throat and adjusted the microphone on the bench. “I’m told that both sides have reached a plea deal.”

Patrick stiffened and sat up straighter. That didn’t seem right.

“We have, your honor,” the prosecuting attorney said as she pulled a stack of papers from her briefcase and passed them off to the bailiff who handed them to the judge.

“I’ll read it into the record now,” Judge Longworth said.

Patrick felt his face heat as he listened to the deal that had been worked out.

“In exchange for cooperation in ongoing investigations, the federal government is willing to drop most of the charges against the defendant—Nicholas Sutton—and he will plead guilty to the remaining federal charges. The defendant has also agreed to liquidate his jewelry company and a number of other assets which will be listed at the end of this document. A collection of rare diamonds that are currently part of Mr. Sutton’s estate will also be donated to the American Museum of Natural History in New York City, where they will be displayed in the Morgan Memorial Hall of Gems.”

Holly scooted closer to him and asked, “What does all of this mean? I don’t understand. It sounds like they’re reading off a business deal.”

Patrick just stared straight ahead as he listened to the judge continue to read. “The defendant will be subject to a fifty-thousand dollar fine and serve six months in jail after which time he will be placed on probation for three years.”

The fog of anger and frustration in Patrick’s brain drowned out the judge’s voice as he read the remaining charges and other details of the ridiculous plea agreement.”

The judge had finished reading and now sat back in his chair, his fingers steepled as he contemplated the agreement before him.

“Do both sides find this deal agreeable?”

“We do, your honor,” the defense attorney, Raul Lansing, said.

“In the interest of getting people more dangerous than Mr. Sutton off the streets, your honor, the prosecution finds this deal acceptable.”

“I understand that there are several state charges filed against Mr. Sutton as well. Is that correct?” the judge asked.

“Yes, your honor. My client will remain in custody until a trial date is set for those charges. We would like to request that any time served while waiting for that trial count toward Mr. Sutton’s sentence in this case,” Raul Lansing said.

The judge looked down at Nicholas Sutton and removed his glasses. “Are you prepared to accept this plea deal, Mr. Sutton?”

“I am, your honor.” His voice was feeble, and if Patrick hadn’t been overcome with rage, he might have felt sorry for the old bastard.

“I’m going to accept this deal as is then, and…”

Patrick didn’t wait to hear the rest of what the judge had to say. “This is bullshit,” he said, a little louder than he intended. He was already on his feet when the judge banged his gavel. He pushed his way out of the courtroom before he could hear the man’s reprimand.

“Patrick wait,” Holly cried after him as she scurried to keep up.

Patrick kept walking until he was almost to the front doors of the courthouse. The cameras were flashing from the swarm of reporters before he could even open the doors. He skidded to a halt. There was no way he could go out there right now.

“Damn it,” he swore, as he raked his fingers through his hair and paced the hallway.

“Patrick, why are you so angry?” Holly asked.

“Because, the bastard is going to get off with a slap on the wrist. He’s serving six months, Holls. Six fucking months for all the shit he’s done.”

Holly blew out a breath. “OK. I thought maybe you were upset about mom’s pumpkin diamond going to a museum.”

Patrick shook his head. ‘That’s a better place for it. A museum is more likely to let me borrow it so I can replicate it in the lab anyway.”

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