He was no longer playing the part of a wealthy civilian. He wore the dark suit and stern demeanor of the nation's top federal cop. Behind him entered Diane Croft, the lead federal prosecutor for the Northern District of Georgia. She carried a thick, intimidatingly large binder, which she dropped onto the steel table with a resounding, echoing thud. "Good morning, Thomas."
Fletcher said smoothly, pulling out a chair and sitting directly across from the disgraced sheriff. "I trust the accommodations are a stark contrast to your $2 million estate." Briggs didn't look up. He kept his eyes glued to the scuffed linoleum floor. Walsh cleared his throat, attempting to seize control of the room.
"Director Fletcher, Ms. Croft, we requested this proffer session to discuss a mutually beneficial arrangement. My client has served his community for over two decades. While there may have been administrative irregularities in how the Faulkner County Department operated, we are prepared to offer substantial cooperation in exchange for leniency." Diane Croft offered a smile that contained zero warmth. She flipped open the binder.
"Mr. Walsh, I don't think you fully grasp the gravity of the room you are sitting in. We don't have administrative irregularities. We have a textbook RICO case. We have wire fraud, extortion, witness tampering, and civil rights violations under the color of law. Your client was caught on tape extorting an undercover FBI agent.
We have the burn book from Captain Roy Dempsey's office. We have the $3 million in cash from the hidden safe. We do not need his cooperation. We already have the entire puzzle." Walsh leaned forward.
"You have his subordinates, but my client can give you the political umbrella, State Senator Richard Hayes. He shielded the department from state oversight in exchange for campaign contributions funneled through shell companies. My client will testify to that. But in return, we want the RICO charge dropped, and we want a recommendation of no more than 10 years in a minimum security facility. Briggs finally looked up, a spark of desperate feral hope flickering in his bloodshot eyes.
It was his ace in the hole. He had paid off Hayes for a decade. He was the golden goose. Fletcher stared at Briggs for a long, silent moment. The quiet in the room was suffocating.
Then, Fletcher reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a single photograph. He slid it across the cold metal table. Briggs leaned in. The breath hitched in his throat. It was a photograph of Senator Richard Hayes wearing handcuffs, being escorted out of his Capitol Hill office by Special Agent Frank Sullivan.
"We arrested Senator Hayes at 4:00 yesterday afternoon." Craft said coldly. "He was indicted by a grand jury under seal a week ago. He actually started crying when Agent Sullivan put the cuffs on him. So, as you can see, Mr. Walsh, your client has nothing of value left to trade.