The Art of Making Money - Jason Kersten [114]
Beginning in mid-March 2002, the plea deals lined up fast and furious. Art’s went down first, on the ides. True to his word, Bottini dropped all but the conspiracy charge and Art was sentenced the same day. Judge Singleton gave him thirty-six months’ imprisonment, along with three years’ probation and a fine of $13,200.
Four days later, Natalie pleaded guilty to one count of utterance, receiving five years’ probation and restitution of $7,350—a sweetheart deal for a woman who had not only played a crucial role in Art’s mastery of the New Note, but also made and passed enough bad C-notes at America’s malls to pad the secretary of the treasury’s bed.
Senior and Anice had scheduled their pleas for the same day, March 25. He went first. The arrangement he’d worked out with Bottini was to plead guilty to a single “dealing” charge, the most damning counterfeiting charge short of manufacturing. Combined with his parole violations, tacked on by the state’s attorney, his sentence was a whopping seventy months, plus $7,350 restitution. In federal prisons, inmates must serve a minimum of eighty-five percent of their time, meaning that he was looking at a little more than five years—twice as much as his son.
Anice watched from the gallery as her husband received his sentence. From the moment Senior had abandoned his children, she’d had him all to herself. She had done nothing to encourage him to reestablish contact with his own children or provide them with financial support. When Art had popped back into their lives he was precisely the product of time and neglect. That smart little kid had grown into a master criminal artist, and she eagerly took his money without ever having taken him into her heart. Hers was a self-fulfilling prophesy, and what happened next would illustrate the depths of her capacity for denial.
PLEA HEARINGS are affairs of formality. Since the accused, prosecutors, defense attorneys, and judge have all consulted beforehand, everyone knows what’s coming. In most cases, the prosecutor presents evidence supporting his case, then the accused faces the judge and acknowledges his or her culpability, verbally and in writing.
Largely thanks to Art, Anice had won herself a beautiful deal: five years’ probation plus the by now standard $7,350 restitution. She would not spend a day behind bars, and with special permission she’d also be able to visit her husband.
Like clockwork, when the clerk called up Anice’s case, Bottini presented his evidence, then her lawyer, Eugene Cyrus, informed Judge Singleton of her intent to plead guilty. As required by law, the judge then asked her if she understood that she was pleading guilty to the charges, thus surrendering her right to a trial.
“I’m doing this because my lawyer advised me, but I’m innocent,” she said.
“You’re innocent?”
“Oh, yes.”
“It was my understanding that you were going to plead guilty. Do you wish to change your plea to not guilty?”
“I didn’t do anything, Your Honor. I’m innocent. This all happened because of my stepson, Art. You see—”
“Mrs. Williams, this proceeding requires that you plead either guilty or not guilty. Your stepson is irrelevant here. Do you wish to change your intended plea?”
“I’m an innocent woman, Your Honor. Nothing should be done to me.”
“You must reply either guilty or not guilty, Mrs. Williams.”
“I’m not guilty.”
Eugene Cyrus, Anice’s lawyer, was standing right next to her at the time. Like everyone else he had assumed her guilty plea was a done deal; he now found