Keith froze. Judge Henderson leaned forward, his eyes wide. «Counselor, state your name for the record.»
The woman placed a gold-embossed business card on the stenographer’s desk. She turned to the judge.
«Catherine Bennett,» she said, «Senior Managing Partner at Bennett, Crown & Sterling of Washington, D.C. I am entering my appearance as counsel for the defendant.»
She paused, then looked at Keith again. «And,» she added, «I am also her mother.»
The silence that followed Catherine Bennett’s introduction was absolute. It was the kind of silence that usually follows a bomb blast. Keith Simmons blinked, his brain trying to process the information.
«Mother?» he stammered, looking from the imposing woman in white to his trembling wife. «Grace, you said your mother was… you said she was gone.»
Grace finally looked up, her eyes wet, but her chin high. «I said she was gone from my life, Keith. I didn’t say she was dead. We were estranged. Until yesterday.»
«Estranged,» Catherine Bennett repeated, the word rolling off her tongue like a verdict. She moved around the defense table, taking the chair beside Grace. She didn’t hug her daughter. Not yet. This was business.
She placed a heavy briefcase on the table and snapped the latches open. «Grace left home twenty years ago to escape the pressure of my world. She wanted a simple life. She wanted to be loved for who she was, not the Bennett name.»
Catherine turned her gaze to Garrison Ford. The opposing lawyer was currently trying to make himself look smaller in his chair.
«Hello, Garrison,» Catherine said pleasantly. «I haven’t seen you since the Oracle Tech merger litigation in 2015. You were barely an associate then, weren’t you? Fetching coffee for the real lawyers?»
Garrison Ford cleared his throat, his face flushing a deep red. «Ms. Bennett, it is an honor. I didn’t know you were admitted to the bar in New York.»
«I am admitted to the bar in New York, California, D.C., and before the International Court of Justice in The Hague,» she replied, not breaking eye contact.
«I generally handle constitutional law and multi-billion-dollar corporate mergers, but when my daughter called me weeping, telling me that a mid-level marketing executive with a Napoleon complex was bullying her…» Catherine paused, letting the insult land. «I decided to make an exception.»
«Objection!» Keith yelled, standing up. Panic was starting to set in. «Personal attack! Who does she think she is?»
«Sit down, Mr. Simmons,» Judge Henderson barked. The judge looked at Catherine with a mix of reverence and fear. Everyone in the legal world knew the name Catherine Bennett. She was known as the «Iron Gavel.» She had argued fourteen cases before the U.S. Supreme Court and won twelve. She was a myth.
«Ms. Bennett,» Judge Henderson said, his tone respectful. «While your reputation precedes you, we are in the middle of a hearing regarding asset division. Mr. Ford has filed a motion for default judgment.»
«Yes, I saw that motion,» Catherine said, pulling a file from her briefcase. «It was cute. Sloppy, but cute.»
She stood up and walked toward the bench, handing a thick stack of documents to the bailiff to give to the judge. She dropped a duplicate stack onto Garrison Ford’s desk with a heavy thud.
«Mr. Ford claims my client has no assets and no representation. That is now moot. Furthermore, Mr. Simmons claims that the assets in question—the penthouse on Fifth Avenue, the house in the Hamptons, and the portfolio at Goldman Sachs—are his sole property, protected by a prenuptial agreement signed seven years ago.»
«That prenup is ironclad!» Keith shouted. «She gets nothing. She signed it.»
Catherine turned to Keith. She took off her glasses again. «Mr. Simmons, do you know who wrote the standard template for the Spousal Coercion Clause used in the State of New York?»
Keith blinked. «What?»
«I did,» Catherine said softly. «In 1998, I drafted the legislation that defines exactly what constitutes coercion when signing a marital contract.»
She tapped the document on Garrison’s table. «And according to the sworn affidavit my daughter provided this morning, you threatened to harm her cat and cut off her access to her sick grandmother’s nursing home funds if she didn’t sign that paper the night before the wedding.»
The courtroom gasped.
«That’s a lie!» Keith screamed, his face turning purple. «She’s a liar!»
«We also have the text messages from that night,» Catherine continued, her voice rising just enough to cut through his shouting. «Recovered from the cloud server you thought you wiped. Exhibit C, Your Honor.»
Judge Henderson flipped to Exhibit C. His eyebrows shot up. Garrison Ford was flipping through the pages frantically. Sweat was beading on his forehead.
«Your Honor, we… we haven’t had time to review this evidence. This is an ambush.»
«An ambush?» Catherine laughed. It was a terrifying sound. «Mr. Ford, you tried to default judgment a woman with no lawyer while your client mocked her to her face. You don’t get to complain about fairness.»
«Now, let’s talk about the finances,» Catherine turned back to the gallery, addressing the room as if she were lecturing a class of law students. «Mr. Simmons claims his net worth is roughly eight million dollars, a respectable sum for a man of his limited talents.»
Keith looked like he was about to have a stroke.
«However,» Catherine said, pulling out a second, thicker binder. «My team of forensic accountants, who, by the way, usually track complex international money laundering for the Pentagon, spent the last twelve hours tracing the intricate web of shell companies Mr. Simmons set up in the Cayman Islands and Cyprus.»
She dropped the second binder. Thud.
«It appears, Your Honor, that Mr. Simmons has been funneling marital assets into a holding company called Apex Ventures for five years. The total amount hidden is not eight million.»
Catherine leaned in close to Keith, her face inches from his. «It’s twenty-four million dollars. And since you failed to disclose it on your financial affidavit signed under penalty of perjury this morning…» Catherine smiled at the judge. «That constitutes felony fraud.»
Keith slumped back into his chair. He looked at Garrison. «Do something,» he hissed.
Garrison Ford looked at the documents. He looked at the judge, who was glaring at Keith with burning intensity. Then he looked at Catherine Bennett, who was checking her manicured nails.
«I need a recess,» Garrison croaked.
«Request denied,» Judge Henderson said instantly. «I want to hear more about these Cayman accounts. Ms. Bennett, please proceed.»
Catherine smoothed her skirt. «Thank you, Your Honor. But before we get to the fraud, I’d like to address the matter of the mockery my client endured regarding her lack of a lawyer.»
She walked back to Grace and placed a hand on her shoulder. For the first time, Grace looked up at her mother and smiled, a genuine, hopeful smile.
«Keith,» Catherine said, her voice dropping to a conversational, almost intimate tone. «You mocked my daughter because you thought she was weak. You thought that because she is kind, she is defenseless. You mistook her silence for surrender.»
Catherine turned to the court reporter. «Let the record show,» she stated clearly, «that Grace Simmons is now represented by Catherine Bennett. And I am not here to negotiate a settlement, Mr. Ford.»
She looked at Keith, her eyes flashing with a cold, hard light. «I am here to take everything. The house, the cars, the hidden money, the reputation. I am going to peel your life apart, layer by layer, until you are left with exactly what you tried to leave my daughter with. Nothing.»
«Mr. Ford,» Catherine said, gesturing to the podium. «Your witness.»
The courtroom air had shifted. It was no longer stale; it was electric. The few spectators in the back, mostly bored law clerks and retirees, were now leaning forward, their phones out, texting friends that something major was happening in courtroom 304.
Judge Henderson rubbed his temples. «Mr. Ford, do you wish to cross-examine?»
«Well, I suppose there is no witness yet,» Garrison mumbled.
«Ms. Bennett, you have the floor,» the judge said.
«Thank you, Your Honor,» Catherine said, standing tall. «I call Keith Simmons to the stand as a hostile witness.»
Keith froze. He looked at Garrison Ford. «Do I have to?»
«You’re the plaintiff, you idiot,» Garrison whispered harshly, wiping sweat from his upper lip. «Get up there. And for the love of God, don’t lie. She knows everything.»
Keith walked to the witness stand; his legs felt heavy. He sat down, and the bailiff swore him in. He looked out at the court, trying to regain his composure. He was Keith Simmons. He was a successful businessman. He was the man who made the deals. This old woman was just bluffing.
Catherine walked to the podium. She didn’t bring any papers. She just rested her hands on the wood and looked at him.
«Mr. Simmons,» she began, her voice deceptively light. «Let’s talk about the traffic you mentioned earlier. The traffic that delayed my daughter.»
Keith scoffed nervously. «It was a figure of speech. She’s always late. She’s disorganized.»
«Disorganized,» Catherine repeated. «Is that why you handled all the finances in the marriage? Because Grace was too disorganized to understand numbers?»
«Exactly,» Keith said, gaining confidence. «Grace is a dreamer. She paints. She volunteers at the animal shelter. She doesn’t understand ROI or equity positions. I did everything to protect our future.»
«To protect your future,» Catherine nodded. «Is that why you purchased a condo in Miami on March 14th of this year? The one listed under Simmons Holdings LLC?»
Keith blinked. «That… that was an investment property for the portfolio.»
«Strange,» Catherine said. «Because according to the credit card statements associated with that property—statements you tried to shred but which your assistant, poor, overworked Ms. Higgins, forgot to delete from the digital recycling bin—you bought furniture for a nursery.»
Grace gasped in the gallery. Her hand flew to her mouth. Keith turned pale.
«It… it was staging for resale value,» Keith stammered.
«Staging,» Catherine said, stepping closer. «And the diamond tennis bracelet purchased from Tiffany’s on Fifth Avenue three days later? Was that for staging too? Or was that for the woman living in the condo?»
«Objection!» Garrison Ford stood up, though he looked like he wanted to be anywhere else. «Relevance, Your Honor? New York is a no-fault divorce state. Infidelity doesn’t impact the division of assets.»
«It does when marital funds were used to facilitate it,» Judge Henderson ruled, his eyes narrowing at Keith. «Overruled. Answer the question, Mr. Simmons.»
Keith gripped the railing of the witness box. «I… I don’t know what she’s talking about.»
Catherine smiled. It was the smile of a predator who tasted blood. «You don’t? Okay, let’s move on from the other woman for a moment. We’ll circle back to Sasha later.»
Keith flinched at the name.
«Let’s talk about your company, Apex Ventures,» Catherine continued. «You swore in your affidavit that your income last year was four hundred thousand dollars.»
«That’s correct,» Keith said quickly. «The market was down.»
«The market was down,» Catherine mocked. She turned to the jury box, which was empty as this was a bench trial, then back to the judge.
«Your Honor, I have here bank records from the First National Bank of Cyprus. They show a wire transfer of two million dollars entering an account controlled by Apex Ventures on the exact same day Mr. Simmons claimed the market was down.»