Chapter 4 - THE VISITATION ROOM
The visitor's block at the Travis County Correctional Complex was cold, sterile, and smelled faintly of industrial floor cleaner.
I sat on a metal stool behind a thick pane of bulletproof glass. On the other side, the heavy iron door opened, and a guard ushered Julian into the room.
He looked unrecognizable. The sleek, arrogant executive who spent thousands on custom Italian suits was gone. In his place sat a hollow, disheveled man wearing a bright orange jumpsuit, his hands restrained by heavy wrist chains. His hair was greasy, his eyes bloodshot, and his hands shook violently as he picked up the gray plastic telephone receiver.
I picked up mine.
"Madeline..." his voice cracked through the receiver, small and pathetic. "Thank God you came. You have to help me. You have to talk to the prosecutor. Tell them it was all a misunderstanding! Tell them my mother acted alone!"
I looked at him in total silence, offering no response.
"Madeline, please!" he begged, pressing his chained hands against the glass. "They put me in high-security holding! The other inmates... they know what I’m in here for! They know I tried to kill a pregnant woman! I won't survive a week in here!"
"You should have thought about the quality of prison accommodations before you bought industrial grease, Julian," I said, my voice completely devoid of emotion.
"It was Eleanor!" he stammered frantically, throwing his own mother under the bus without a second thought. "She came up with the idea! She brought the canister! She told me that if we didn't get the insurance money, those offshore creditors were going to kill me! I was scared, Madeline! I did it to protect our family!"
"You did it to protect yourself," I corrected him smoothly. "And you failed."
"We can fix this," he pleaded, tears streaming down his face. "I’ll sign over any rights to the baby! I’ll waive my rights to any divorce settlement! Just drop the attempted murder charges! Tell the DA you made a mistake about the camera footage!"
I leaned closer to the glass, looking straight into his trembling eyes.
"I didn't come here to negotiate your freedom, Julian," I said softly. "I came here to tell you what happens next."
He blinked, fresh terror washing over his pale face.
"This morning, I froze every single bank account tied to your name," I began, counting off on my fingers. "I seized your Porsche, your collection of luxury watches, and your private club memberships. I filed for an immediate fault-based divorce on the grounds of felony cruelty and criminal conspiracy. You will receive zero spousal support, zero assets, and zero parental rights."
"Madeline, please... don't take my daughter away from me..." he sobbed.
"She was never your daughter," I replied coldly. "A father protects his child. You looked at her as a obstacle to a $1.5 million payout. She will grow up with my name, on my estate, surrounded by real strength. She will never hear your voice."
"What about my mother?" he rasped. "What about Chloe?"
"Your mother is facing twenty-five years to life for capital conspiracy," I said. "And as for Chloe... she regained consciousness at Austin Presbyterian Hospital two hours ago. Her spine is intact, though she faces months of physical therapy. And her very first official act was giving a recorded statement to the District Attorney, confirming that you and Eleanor planned my murder step-by-step."
Julian slumped back against his chair, his body deflating as if all the air had been drained from his lungs. "You... you turned my own family against me."
"You did that yourself the moment you placed greed above human life," I said, standing up from my stool. "Enjoy your time in state prison, Julian."
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"Madeline! Don't leave me! Madeline!" he screamed, slamming his phone receiver against the bulletproof glass as the guards stepped forward to force him back into his seat.
I placed the phone back on its hook, turned my back on his frantic screaming, and walked out of the visitation room without looking back once.
