Chapter 5: The Offer
Preston's attorney called at 8:14 the next morning.
I was in the hospital cafeteria with a cup of coffee I hadn't touched, watching the steam curl off the surface.
Sophie was still upstairs.
The overnight nurse had said she'd slept well.
I had not slept at all.
The number that came up was a downtown Chicago area code.
I answered on the second ring.
"Ms.
Calloway.
My name is Gerald Fitch.
I represent Preston Calloway.
I'm calling to see if we can resolve this matter before it becomes something neither family wants."
"Something neither family wants," I said.
"You mean criminal charges."
A brief pause.
"I mean unnecessary public exposure of a private family matter."
"My daughter has a bandage on her head, Mr.
Fitch."
"And my client deeply regrets the incident.
He acted impulsively in a moment of high emotion.
He would like to express that regret directly, in whatever form you feel is appropriate."
I set the coffee cup down.
"What is he offering?" I said.
Another pause.
Longer this time.
I could hear him recalibrating.
"Mr.
Calloway is prepared to make a significant gesture of goodwill.
A private settlement.
Medical costs covered in full.
An additional sum for Sophie's future education.
In exchange, Ms.
Marsh's footage would remain private, and your family would agree not to pursue further legal action or make public statements regarding last night's events."
I said nothing.
"Ms.
Calloway, I want to be direct with you.
My client has significant resources and a strong legal team.
If this proceeds to a formal complaint, it will be long, it will be public, and it will be painful for everyone involved — including your daughter.
A quiet resolution protects Sophie from having to relive this."
There it was.
He had wrapped the threat in Sophie's name and handed it to me like a gift.
"Mr.
Fitch," I said, "my daughter is eight years old.
She was framed by her uncle at a family wedding, struck in the head with a solid oak board in front of two hundred witnesses, and left bl00ding on the floor while her grandparents told me to leave quietly.
The hotel CCTV shows your client planting the phone himself.
A child welfare attorney with twenty years of experience has already submitted a formal statement to the Chicago PD." I paused.
"So when you tell me that a quiet resolution protects Sophie — I want you to understand that I hear exactly what you're saying.
And the answer is no."
Silence.
"Ms.
Calloway—"
"Do not call this number again," I said.
"If you have anything further to communicate, you can contact my attorney."
I ended the call.
My hands were steady.
I noticed that.
I had expected them to shake.
I called Diane Marsh.
She picked up on the first ring.
"He sent his attorney," I said.
"I expected that," she said.
"What did they offer?"
I told her.
She was quiet for a moment.
"Education fund for Sophie," she said.
"That's actually lower than I expected.
He's more worried than he's letting on." A pause.
"Evelyn, I want to be honest with you.
I'm a child welfare attorney.
Criminal prosecution isn't my area.
But I have a colleague — her name is Grace Okafor.
She handles exactly this kind of case.
Aggravated @ssault, child endangerment, evidence of premeditation.
She's already seen the footage because I sent it to her last night." Another pause.
"She wants to speak with you today, if you're willing."
I looked out the cafeteria window.
The Chicago skyline was flat and gray under a low November sky.
"Send me her number," I said.
"Already done," Diane said.
"One more thing.
Preston called your parents last night after the police left.
I don't know what was said.
But your mother showed up at the hotel at midnight and spoke to the manager for forty minutes.
The manager has already informed Detective Kowalski."
My mother.
At midnight.
Forty minutes with the hotel manager.
"What was she trying to do?" I said.
May you like
"I don't know yet," Diane said.
"But I think you should find out."
