Chapter 5 - The Glass Wall
The inter-interrogation room at the Montgomery County Police Department smelled of stale coffee, industrial floor wax, and fear.
Vanessa Kensington sat at a metal table, her hands handcuffed to a steel ring embedded in the center of the wood. The cream-colored cashmere coat she had worn so proudly earlier that morning was gone, replaced by an oversized orange jumpsuit. Her hair was a matted mess, her mascara smudged down her cheeks in dark, frantic streaks.
Across from her sat Steven Brody, Philadelphia’s top corporate defense attorney—a man who usually charged twelve hundred dollars an hour to keep rich executives out of prison.
Brody was sweating through his linen shirt.
"Steven, you have to get me out of here!" Vanessa wailed, her voice shrill, banging her hand against the metal table. "It's cold, and those women in the holding cell were looking at me like they wanted to kill me! Do you know who I am?! I am the lead designer for Harrington Group!"
"Vanessa, shut up!" Brody snapped, rubbing his temples furiously. "Do you have any idea what you’ve done?!"
"I pushed her!" Vanessa spat, her eyes wide with frantic denial. "It was a fight! She was talking trash about Richard! People push each other all the time!"
"She was eight months pregnant, Vanessa!" Brody yelled, leaning across the table. "You pushed an eight-month pregnant woman down thirty stone steps on camera! There are sixteen different surveillance angles of you raising both hands and shoving her! The District Attorney just upgraded the charges to attempted murder!"
Vanessa went pale, her breath catching in her throat. "Attempted... murder? No. No, Richard said his lawyers would fix this! Where is Richard?!"
"Richard is currently sitting in a room down the hall being questioned by federal bank fraud investigators," a new voice answered smoothly from the doorway.
The heavy steel door of the interrogation room clicked open.
Harrison Cole walked in.
He had changed into a fresh, custom-tailored dark navy suit, his tie perfectly knotted, his leather shoes polished to a mirror shine. He carried no briefcase, no notes, no phone. He moved into the room with the quiet, effortless authority of a king entering a conquered village.
Behind him, two senior police detectives stood near the door, keeping their hands resting comfortably on their sidearms.
Steven Brody stood up so fast his chair screeched against the floorboards. His mouth opened, but no sound came out for three full seconds.
"Harrison..." Brody stammered, his voice dropping an octave. "You... you shouldn't be in this room. This is a private attorney-client consultation."
Harrison didn't look at Brody. He walked slowly around the table, stopping directly behind Vanessa’s chair.
Vanessa stiffened, her spine going rigid, a cold drop of sweat rolling down the back of her neck. She could feel the massive presence of the man standing behind her, smelling the faint scent of expensive sandalwood cologne and cold air.
"Steven," Harrison said softly, his voice dangerously polite. "I suggest you sit down and keep your mouth shut unless you want me to file a formal ethics complaint regarding your firm’s offshore trust management for Harrington Commercial Group."
Brody’s jaw dropped. He slowly lowered himself back into his chair, completely silenced.
Harrison placed both of his hands on the back of Vanessa’s steel chair, leaning down until his lips were just inches from her ear.
"Do you know who I am, Miss Kensington?" Harrison whispered.
Vanessa swallowed hard, her body trembling violently. "You're... you're Khloe's brother."
"I am her brother," Harrison agreed softly. "And I am the man who currently holds your entire life in the palm of my hand."
He walked around the table and sat in the chair directly opposite her, crossing one long leg over the other. He rested his elbows on the armrests, interlacing his fingers.
"Let me tell you what is going to happen to you over the next forty-eight hours," Harrison said, his tone as casual as if he were reading a weather report. "At three o'clock today, Judge Miller will deny your bail application based on the flight risk demonstrated by your purchase of a one-way ticket to Paris two hours ago."
Vanessa’s eyes widened in horror. "How... how did you know about that?!"
"I know everything," Harrison said flatly. "By four o'clock, the IRS will seize your design firm's bank accounts for unpaid payroll taxes dating back three years. By six o'clock, your parents in Pittsburgh will receive an eviction notice for the luxury townhouse Richard purchased for them using stolen corporate funds."
"No!" Vanessa shrieked, tears springing to her eyes. "Leave my parents out of this! They didn't do anything!"
"You should have thought about families before you shoved my sister down a flight of stairs," Harrison said, his eyes devoid of mercy. "And on Monday morning, your trial date will be set. You will be tried as an adult for attempted first-degree murder, aggravated assault on an unborn child, and grand larceny."
Vanessa turned frantically to her lawyer. "Steven! Say something! Tell him he can't do this!"
Brody looked down at the table, completely avoiding her eyes. "He can, Vanessa. He controls the evidence."
Vanessa looked back at Harrison, her arrogance completely shattered, leaving behind a terrified, broken young woman.
"Please..." Vanessa begged, weeping openly, her hands trembling in their steel cuffs. "I'm sorry! I lost my temper! I didn't mean to hurt the baby! Please... talk to the DA! Don't ruin my life!"
Harrison leaned forward, resting his hands on the table, looking at her with a terrifying, icy glare.
"Your life was ruined the moment your hands touched my sister's chest," Harrison said quietly. "You are going to serve fifteen years in a maximum-security state penitentiary, Miss Kensington. And every single day you spend in that tiny concrete cell, I want you to remember one thing."
He leaned closer, his voice dropping into a deadly whisper.
"My niece survived."
Harrison stood up, unbuttoned his suit jacket, and looked at Steven Brody.
May you like
"Get your client a good public defender, Brody," Harrison said coldly. "Because by tomorrow morning, she won't have a single dollar left to pay you."
Harrison turned and walked out of the interrogation room, letting the heavy steel door slam shut behind him, leaving Vanessa’s hysterical screams echoing through the concrete corridor.
