“The Department of Justice is handling this directly,” Sterling said. “There will be no bail, and there will be no deals.”

Patricia’s hand went to her throat.

The large diamond necklace she wore caught the light of the chandelier.

“What are you saying?” she whispered.

“I’m saying you need to prepare yourselves,” Sterling said. “They are going to arrest both of you tonight.”

Outside, the red and blue lights of police cruisers strobed against the high stained-glass windows of the foyer.

I looked through the sidelight next to the front door.

A crowd of neighbors was starting to gather near the iron gates of the estate.

I could see the headlights of luxury SUVs idling on the wet asphalt of the street.

The neighbors were looking through the gates, trying to see what was happening inside the Monroe mansion.

“We need to move the suspects,” Harris said, checking his watch. “The transport vehicles are ready.”

“Give us a moment,” Sterling asked Harris.

“There are no moments left, Counselor,” Harris replied.

Two more agents stepped forward to escort Patricia.

“Don’t touch me,” she screamed, backing away toward the fireplace.