Chapter 9: The Deposition
Richard Paull's deposition took place on a Thursday morning in a conference room on the thirty-first floor of a building on Wacker Drive.
I was not present for the deposition itself — Carol attended with the forensic accountant — but I was in the building, in a smaller room down the hall, with Lily and a bag of books and a container of crackers.
Carol came to find me at eleven-forty.
She sat down across from me and folded her hands on the table.
"He gave us everything," she said.
"Everything?"
"Emails.
Wire transfer records.
A recorded phone call Diane made to his office in which she explicitly instructs him to exclude your name from the refinance paperwork." Carol set a printed page on the table.
"She told him, and I'm reading directly, 'Emily signs what Jason tells her to sign.
She won't notice and she won't ask.
Just make sure my name isn't on the transfer documents.'"
I looked at the page.
"She planned this from the beginning," I said.
"From before the refinance.
Paull's records show preliminary conversations going back twenty-six months.
She began structuring this approximately six months after your wedding."
Six months.
Lily had not yet been born.
"What does this mean for the divorce proceedings?"
"It means the financial fraud is now a separate matter from the divorce.
The State's Attorney's office has been notified.
Whether they pursue charges is their decision, but Paull's cooperation gives them a strong foundation." Carol paused.
"It also means that Jason's cooperation — which his attorney formalized this morning — significantly changes his exposure.
He was a signatory who was deceived.
That's a different legal position than being a co-conspirator."
"And Diane?"
Carol looked at me steadily.
"Diane's attorney called this morning and requested an emergency meeting.
They want to discuss a resolution before the State's Attorney makes a decision."
"What kind of resolution?"
"Full financial restitution.
All equity returned to the marital estate.
A consent order in the custody matter agreeing to supervised visitation only, with Diane specifically excluded from any contact with Lily." Carol paused.
"And a public statement from Diane acknowledging that her actions at the birthday dinner were inappropriate and harmful."
The room was very quiet.
Lily had fallen asleep against my arm, her head warm and heavy, her breathing slow.
"She'll never mean the statement," I said.
"No," Carol said.
"But it will exist.
In writing.
With her signature on it.
And if she violates the consent order, the State's Attorney's file is already open."
I looked at my daughter's face.
The shadow of the bruise was almost gone.
In another week, you wouldn't be able to see it at all.
But the report would still exist.
Exhibit Thirty-Eight would still exist.
Patricia's journal.
Daniel's statement.
Paull's recorded phone call.
All of it would still exist.
"Tell them," I said, "that Emily Bennett accepts the financial restitution and the custody consent order.
But the public statement is not optional and it is not negotiable.
She signs it in front of a notary by end of business Friday or we proceed to litigation and I give every exhibit in my folder to the journalist from the Tribune who has already emailed Carol Voss twice this week."
Carol looked at me for a moment.
"You've been holding the Tribune contact."
"Since Tuesday," I said.
"I wanted to see if they'd settle first."
Carol almost smiled.
May you like
"End of business Friday," she said.
"I'll tell them."
