Olivia Goldsmith - Insiders

To Jack Rapke

Because you always knew how good it would be

An imprisoned creature was out of the question – my mother would not have allowed a rat to be restrained of its liberty.

Mark Twain

Cover Page

Title Page Insiders Olivia Goldsmith

Epigraph An imprisoned creature was out of the question – my mother would not have allowed a rat to be restrained of its liberty. Mark Twain

Book I Book I

1 Jennifer Spencer

2 Gwen Harding

3 Jennifer Spencer

4 Movita Watson

5 Gwen Harding

6 Jennifer Spencer

7 Maggie Rafferty

8 Jennifer Spencer

9 Movita Watson

10 Jennifer Spencer

11 Gwen Harding

12 Jennifer Spencer

13 Jennifer Spencer

14 Gwen Harding

15 Cher McInnery

16 Jennifer Spencer

17 Maggie Rafferty

18 Jennifer Spencer

19 Movita Watson

20 Jennifer Spencer

Book II

21 Cher McInnery

22 Jennifer Spencer

23 Gwen Harding

24 Jennifer Spencer

25 Maggie Rafferty

26 Cher McInnery

27 Jennifer Spencer

28 Gwen Harding

29 Jennifer Spencer

30 Movita Watson

31 Maggie Rafferty

32 Jennifer Spencer

33 Gwen Harding

Book III

34 Jennifer Spencer

35 Gwen Harding

36 Movita Watson

37 Jennifer Spencer

38 Cher McInnery

39 Jennifer Spencer

40 Jennifer Spencer

41 Maggie Rafferty

42 Jennifer Spencer

43 Movita Watson

44 Maggie Rafferty

45 Jennifer Spencer

46 Gwen Harding

47 Jennifer Spencer

48 Jennifer Spencer

49 Jennifer Spencer

50 Jennifer Spencer

51 Jennifer Spencer

52 Movita Watson

53 Maggie Rafferty

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

Recommended Reading

About the Author

Praise

Also by Olivia Goldsmith

Copyright

About the Publisher

What is now proved was once only imagined.

William Blake, The Marriage of Heaven and Hell

‘All rise.’

Jennifer Anne Spencer watched as Judge Marian Levitt entered the courtroom, her black robes swinging loosely from her shoulders, not concealing her dumpiness, her white hair cut in a simple bob. She climbed the three steps to the bench holding Jennifer’s future in her hands.

Jennifer stood beside her lawyer and the rest of the legal team and faced Judge Levitt with what she hoped was a calm and honest gaze. She knew that the photographers would pay a great deal to have a picture of her at the time the verdict was given. But they were barred from the courtroom and for that, if nothing else, she was grateful.

Although she had been assured and reassured that the judge would see things ‘their way’, it was not an easy thing to stand before the woman as she leafed through her papers. In fact, although she doubted that she would be judged guilty, she was certain that even if she was, she would be given a suspended sentence or public service or a fine.

Jennifer had to admit that she felt sick to her stomach just standing there. That she had virtually volunteered to be there didn’t make it any easier. She felt a fluttering beside her and realized that Tom, her attorney, was reaching for her hand. She entwined her fingers in his and knew that he could feel her trembling. She hoped that the judge could see neither that nor the fact that they were holding hands. But she supposed it wouldn’t make any difference to the outcome of the trial.

For what seemed like an interminable time, Judge Levitt paged through the notes in front of her. She had on a pair of half-glasses that were perched at the very end of her long nose. Both Donald and Tom had strongly urged Jennifer to forgo a jury trial. ‘This is complicated law,’ Tom had said. ‘A judge would be more likely to understand the distinctions.’ Donald had laughed. ‘Let’s face it,’ he’d said. ‘Civilians hate us and would be only too happy to throw the book at you.’ Jennifer had nodded. ‘We’re the fat cats,’ Donald had continued. ‘We’re the Wall Street smart-asses. When they make money during a bull market they resent us for making more. When they lose money they blame us. You can’t win when you’re on the Street. You’d never get a jury of your peers unless they could get a dozen guys from the Street, and none of them have the time to sit on a jury.’ They had all laughed.

But now, looking up at Judge Levitt, Jennifer didn’t feel like laughing. She told herself it was all going to be all right. Donald and Tom would see to it. This was the worst of it, and after this she’d be so well rewarded that …

‘Jennifer Spencer. You have been accused of fraud. I find you guilty. On insider trading I find you guilty on all counts. On …’

A loud buzzing began in Jennifer’s ears. The word ‘guilty’ coming from Judge Levitt’s lips seemed to move from the bench to her and hit her like a blow. This wasn’t what was planned. She felt dizzy and she had to close her eyes for a moment to stop the room from spinning. Tom’s hand on her now clammy one did not feel comforting. She wanted to shake him off and wipe the sweat off herself. How could this be happening?

When she could hear again, the judge was intoning something about her sentence. A sentence? If she was found guilty, there wasn’t supposed to be a sentence. ‘… three to five years at Jennings Correctional Facility for Women.’ The judge paused, took off her glasses, and looked across the bench at Jennifer. ‘You are very young,’ she said. ‘It’s better that you learn now that this type of manipulation and illegal profiteering is unacceptable and that it could destroy your entire life.’

Jennifer couldn’t respond. Even on that horrible day when the Feds came into her posh office at the prestigious Wall Street firm of Hudson, Van Schaank & Michaels to take her away in cuffs, Jennifer didn’t believe that she would spend even one moment in a jail cell. The arrest made her a little nervous, of course, but that was only because she’d never been in trouble before with the law.

‘This is just a publicity stunt,’ her boss told her. ‘They’re firing shots over our heads to cool down this overheated market.’ That boss was the legendary Donald J. Michaels himself, and Jennifer never questioned his judgment or authority. ‘Believe me,’ Donald assured her, ‘these charges are going to be dropped. And even if you do go to trial, you aren’t going to be found guilty of anything. Trust me,’ he added with his reassuring smile.

Jennifer did trust him. After all, she wasn’t guilty of anything. She was just taking the heat for Donald in order to deflect any further investigations into his firm’s rather dubious business dealings. If the SEC – the Securities and Exchange Commission – had gone after Donald they would have thrown the book at him. ‘And they’ve got a damn big book,’ Donald had joked. ‘You know how jealous, how envious, people have been over our success in the last few years.’ Jennifer did know. During his Wall Street career Donald Michaels had made not only his own fortune, but had also made dozens, maybe scores – or even hundreds – of other millionaires. Jennifer herself was a millionaire at twenty-eight – but now she was a millionaire who was leaving for prison in less than an hour.