Chapter 6 - The Morning Paper and the Cold Cell
The rain stopped just before dawn, leaving the runway tarmac at Allegheny County Airport gleaming like black glass.
A cold, biting wind swept off the Ohio River as two Pennsylvania State Police cruisers idled behind the Gulfstream IV.
Julian Cole sat in the back of the lead cruiser, his hands cuffed behind his back, his thousand-dollar cashmere sweater coated in road salt and grit.
His hair was plastered to his forehead.
He was shivering uncontrollably, though the heater inside the cruiser was humming on high.
When Nathan’s SUV pulled past the perimeter fence and stopped ten feet away, Julian lunged forward against the steel partition.
"Nathan! Tell them to take these damn things off me!" Julian screamed through the glass.
Nathan did not look at him.
He stepped out into the mist, carrying the leather briefcase under his left arm.
Captain Miller of the State Police met him halfway across the wet asphalt.
"Mr. Cole," Miller said, touching the brim of his campaign hat.
"Your counsel delivered the emergency injunction fifteen minutes ago."
"Flight manifest is impounded, pilot is detained for questioning, and we found two duffel bags of unregistered bearer bonds in the cargo bay."
"Thank you, Captain," Nathan replied quietly.
"The duffel bags belong to the Saint Jude Foundation, which is currently undergoing a forensic embezzlement audit."
"Here is the chain-of-custody transfer for the original birth records and the accounting ledger found at the Sewickley property."
Nathan handed over the folder.
Miller flipped through the initial three pages, his seasoned face tightening into a grim mask.
"This is ten years of intentional identity concealment, fraud against the state foster program, and obstruction of justice."
"Julian is facing fifteen to twenty years minimum if the DA pushes the racketeering angle."
"Push every angle," Nathan said.
"No bail agreements."
"No expedited arraignments."
"If his high-priced criminal defense team attempts to post a bond, inform the magistrate that Cole Meridian has frozen all trust disbursements pending internal audit."
Nathan walked toward the rear door of the patrol car.
The trooper standing guard clicked the door open and stepped back.
Julian looked up, his eyes bloodshot, his lips split from dry panic.
"Nathan, you can't do this to me," Julian wept, his voice echoing off the plastic interior.
"We’re brothers."
"Dad forced me into this."
"He held the entire estate over my head!"
"What was I supposed to do? Give up my life for an illegitimate brat living in a county home?"
Nathan leaned down into the opening.
His face was completely devoid of anger.
There was only the chilling, bottomless void of a man who had cut out a diseased limb.
"She has a name, Julian."
"Her name is Clara."
"And she is the only legitimate heir this family has left."
"You are a parasite who lived off an empire built on an innocent man’s suicide."
Julian’s jaw trembled.
"You think this makes you a hero?"
"You think that kid is just going to accept you?"
"She doesn't know you, Nathan!"
"She’s spent nine years being broken by the state system!"
"Every foster parent she had sent her back because she was weird, quiet, unmanageable!"
"You can't buy back nine years with an executive penthouse and a trust fund!"
"She will hate you the moment she realizes you were living like a king while she starved!"
Nathan took a single, slow step closer to the door.
"She might hate me," Nathan whispered.
"She has every right to spend the rest of her life hating me."
"The difference between you and me, Julian, is that I am willing to spend every day of the rest of my life begging for her forgiveness on my knees."
"While you will spend the rest of yours eating county bread on a metal bunk."
Nathan slammed the cruiser door shut.
He turned back to Miller.
"Take him downtown."
"Book him under his legal name."
"And alert the press pool at the city-county building."
"I want every news van in Pennsylvania outside that courthouse before the nine o'clock market open."
Miller nodded once.
"Yes, sir."
Nathan climbed back into his SUV.
As the vehicle pulled out through the rusted industrial gates of the airport, the sky began to turn a sickly, bruised orange.
The city of Pittsburgh was waking up.
Billboards along Route 51 were already flashing the early-morning financial tickers.
COLE MERIDIAN LOGISTICS TRADING HALTED PENDING RESTRUCTURE.
Nathan didn't look at the screens.
He looked at the small, handmade red coupon resting on the passenger seat beside him.
ONE FREE HUG.
May you like
The paper was cheap, the glitter flaking away onto the black leather.
He drove back to Grandview Avenue, pressing the accelerator down until the engine roared against the rising wind.
