Chapter 9 - The Collapse of Richard Sterling
By eight-thirty the following morning, the sun was bright over Manhattan.
Inside the glass-walled office of Aegis Art Advisory in SoHo, Richard Sterling was frantically typing on his computer, surrounded by half-packed cardboard boxes containing modern oil paintings and bronze sculptures.
His cell phone buzzed violently against the glass desk.
Richard snatched it up. "Victoria! Where the hell are you?! My bank account was locked an hour ago! The wire transfer back to Sterling Developments failed!"
"Richard..." Victoria’s voice came through the line, sounding muffled, hollow, and completely broken. "They took the apartment."
Richard froze. "What?"
"The landlord at the Upper East Side penthouse just evicted me," Victoria sobbed, her voice trembling with hysteria. "Julian’s lawyers revoked the corporate lease at midnight! My keycard didn't work! My bags are sitting on the sidewalk on Seventy-Second Street!"
"Call your father!" Richard yelled, grabbing his coat. "Tell him to file an injunction!"
"My father blocked my number!" Victoria wailed. "He said if I call his office again, he’ll have his partners fire me from the family foundation! Richard... you have to help me! Send me some of the money from the Delaware account!"
"There IS no money in the Delaware account, Victoria!" Richard screamed, throwing a stack of paper across his desk. "Julian Vance bought my gallery’s primary mortgage yesterday afternoon! He issued a default notice twenty minutes ago because of the fraudulent wire transfers! The sheriff is coming to lock my doors at noon!"
Silence fell over the line.
"He... he bought your gallery?" Victoria whispered, her voice shrinking into a tiny, terrified raspy sound.
"He owns everything, Victoria!" Richard spat with raw hatred. "He owns my building, he owns your clothes, he owns the accounts you thought you were clever enough to hide! You told me he was just a stupid, gullible widower who was desperate for a pretty face!"
"He was!" Victoria screamed back. "He was quiet! He never checked the receipts!"
"He was building a nine-figure company while you were buying handbag collections!" Richard roared. "Don't ever call this number again!"
Richard slammed his phone down onto the desk, taking out the SIM card and snapping it in half between his thumbs.
He grabbed his leather jacket and turned toward his office door, intending to escape through the rear service exit before the city marshals arrived.
He pulled the door open.
Standing in the hallway were two uniformed officers from the New York City Police Department, accompanied by an investigator from the District Attorney’s Financial Crimes Unit.
"Richard Sterling?" the investigator asked, pulling a silver badge from his coat.
Richard took a step back, his face turning gray. "I... I was just managing art transactions..."
"Richard Sterling, you are under arrest for grand larceny in the second degree, scheme to defraud, and corporate wire fraud," the officer declared, pulling Richard’s arms behind his back and snapping iron handcuffs around his wrists.
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"It was Victoria!" Richard yelled as he was dragged down the carpeted hallway of his gallery. "She was the one who authorized the transfers! She was the one who planned it!"
"Miss Sterling is currently being picked up by our officers outside her hotel on Seventy-Second Street," the investigator said calmly, picking up Richard’s packed leather bag from the desk as evidence. "You’ll both have plenty of time to discuss the details at Rikers Island."
