Chapter 6 - The Notary’s Confession
While Ben was contacting his corporate forensic accountants, Marcus Vance was sitting in a windowless room on the second floor of the North Bergen Municipal Plaza. Across from him sat Arthur Pendelton.
Pendelton was sixty-five, bald, with nicotine-stained fingers and an ill-fitting poly-blend suit that smelled of stale coffee. On the table between them lay a formal grand jury subpoena, accompanied by a side-by-side visual analysis of Thomas Sterling’s genuine signature from 2018 and the clumsy tracing on the adoption release.
I sat in the corner of the room, taking meticulous notes on my legal pad, while an official stenographer recorded every breath.
"Arthur," Marcus said in that calm, thunderous baritone that had terrified corporate embezzlers for three decades. "You know what a Class D felony carries in this state for a second-time offender? Five to seven years at East Jersey State Prison. At your age, that’s a life sentence."
Pendelton’s collar was soaked through with sweat. His hands fluttered over the wooden tabletop like dying moths. "I didn't know it was for an illegal adoption, Marcus! I swear to God! Evelyn told me it was an intra-family property release for an old cabin upstate. She said Thomas had signed it before he passed, but they had neglected to get the seal applied before probate closed."
"You sealed an instrument four years after the signatory died, Arthur," Marcus said, leaning across the table until their noses nearly touched. "And you sealed Claire Sterling’s signature without her being physically present before you. That is fraudulent execution of a legal instrument under Section 21-A. That’s five years on its own."
"She gave me five thousand dollars in cash!" Pendelton blurted out, breaking completely. Tears of panic tracked through the creases of his sallow cheeks. "Five thousand! She brought the papers to my office last Tuesday. She said Claire was an addict who was going to abandon the baby in a motel, and that she and Vanessa were trying to save the child! She said the family was unified!"
"Did you prepare the adoption petition, Arthur?" I asked, speaking for the first time.
Pendelton flinched, looking at me with wide, terrified eyes. "No! No, Claire, I swear upon my mother’s grave. Evelyn brought the completed forms already filled out. She had an envelope with St. Jude’s letterhead on it. She told me she had an intake officer inside the hospital who was going to handle the filing once the baby was delivered."
"Brenda Hollis," I stated.
Pendelton nodded frantically. "Yes! That was the name! She said Brenda was waiting for the notarized originals so she could log them into the system before the delivery ward shift change. Evelyn said everything was handled."
Marcus slid a fresh legal document across the table. It was a twelve-page sworn proffer of state’s evidence, drafted by the county prosecutor’s office thirty minutes prior.
"You sign this, Arthur," Marcus said smoothly. "You detail every word Evelyn Sterling said to you. You hand over the carbon copies of your notary ledger, the cash envelope if you still have it, and the security footage from your office lobby. You do that, and the prosecutor will allow you to plead down to a misdemeanor falsification of records with zero jail time and the surrender of your license. You refuse, and I will have Detective Miller arrest you in this chair before lunch."
Pendelton didn't even ask to read the fine print. He snatched a ballpoint pen from his pocket, his hand trembling so violently he nearly tore the paper, and signed his name at the bottom of every single page.
Marcus collected the documents, inspected each signature, and handed them to the stenographer. Then he turned to me with a grim nod.
May you like
"That’s the criminal core," Marcus said. "We have the notary. We have the internal audit. Now, Claire, we pull the string on Brenda Hollis."
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