Chapter 8 - The Hostile Deposition
The conference room on the forty-second floor of my law firm’s downtown headquarters looked down upon the entire metropolitan skyline. The expansive glass table reflected the gray afternoon sky, cold and unforgiving.
Sitting at the far end was Superintendent Donald Sterling, accompanied by three junior attorneys from Morrison & Klein. Sterling looked as if he had aged fifteen years in forty-eight hours. His skin was sallow, his designer suit hung loosely on his shoulders, and his trembling hands kept reaching for a glass of ice water.
A certified court stenographer sat at the end of the table, her fingers poised over the keyboard.
"We are on the record," I announced, sitting across from Sterling with a stack of binders two feet high. "This is the civil deposition of Donald Sterling in the matter of Howard v. Oakridge School District, Donald Sterling, and Jason Vance."
Lead defense counsel, Richard Morrison, cleared his throat nervously. "Mrs. Howard, before we begin, my clients are prepared to offer an immediate, unconditional cash settlement of three million dollars, fully funded by our municipal liability policy, alongside Mr. Vance’s formal termination, in exchange for a complete release of all personal claims against Superintendent Sterling."
I looked at Morrison like he was an insect crawling on my windshield. "Mr. Morrison, three million dollars is what my firm spends on office supplies every quarter. Take your settlement and throw it in the shredder. Today, I am taking your client’s deposition for the criminal grand jury."
Sterling swallowed loudly, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. "Elena, please... we’ve known each other for years. I went to church with your father."
"Do not speak my father's name," I replied, my voice dropping to a low, lethal purr. "State your name and title for the record."
"Donald Arthur Sterling. Superintendent of Oakridge Public Schools."
"Mr. Sterling, did you receive a written complaint regarding Jason Vance’s conduct during the Saint Jude’s Academy summer camp in July of 2016?"
"I... I don't recall," Sterling stammered, glancing desperately at his lawyers.
"Let me refresh your failing memory," I slid Exhibit A across the glass. "This is a carbon-copy memorandum signed by your own hand, addressed to the Board of Trustees at Saint Jude's, describing an incident where Mr. Vance broke the wrist of an eighth-grade female athlete during track drills. Is that your signature?"
Sterling stared at the ink, his jaw twitching. "Yes."
"Did you subsequently authorize a sixty-thousand-dollar payout from an undisclosed administrative account to ensure that family did not contact the district attorney?"
"I was advised by counsel that a settlement was in the best interest of avoiding costly litigation," Sterling squeaked.
"And when you took the post of Superintendent at Oakridge three years later," I slid Exhibit B forward, "did you personally waive the secondary criminal and employment background screening for Jason Vance before appointing him head of the middle school physical education department?"
Morrison stood up. "Objection! Asked and answered! The superintendent has broad executive discretion in hiring personnel!"
"I am asking about the waiver of a mandatory child-protection protocol, Mr. Morrison!" I slammed my hand onto the glass table, making the water glasses rattle. "Did you waive the background check, Donald?!"
"Yes!" Sterling broke, his voice cracking into a high-pitched whine. "Yes, I waived it! Jason is family! His mother was begging me to give him another chance! He swore to me that he had gotten his temper under control! He swore he was clean!"
"And when he began stealing from the athletic booster club to feed his gambling habit," I slammed Exhibit C down with explosive force, "did you sign twenty-four separate cashier checks drawn on public student funds, funneled to an offshore sports betting platform, because Jason Vance threatened to expose your original cover-up at Saint Jude's?"
Sterling buried his face in his hands, his shoulders heaving with ragged, terrified sobs. "He blackmailed me... he told me if I didn't co-sign the booster accounts, he would leak the Saint Jude's settlement to the press and ruin my election for the state board of education. I had no choice... I had no choice!"
"You had the choice to protect twelve-year-old children from a violent monster," I said, leaning over the table, my voice carrying the absolute weight of judgment. "Instead, you handed him the keys to the gymnasium, closed your eyes, and allowed him to torture my daughter."
I looked at the stenographer. "Mark the transcript as completed. Deliver certified copies directly to the State Attorney General’s Public Integrity Unit."
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I stood up, gathering my files, and looked down at the ruined shell of the superintendent.
"Your career is over, Donald. Your pension is forfeited. And you have seventy-two hours to hire a criminal defense lawyer who specializes in state prison sentences."
