Guilt by Association (56 page)

“Nice guy,” Mitch murmured on the right side of the gallery.

“But not our guy,” Ione replied.

On her side of the aisle, Janice Evans turned to Randy, who was now sitting beside her. “Where is the prosecutor going with this?” she whispered. “None of it applies here.”

“I’m sure she has her reasons,” Randy replied dully.

“Now, Dr. Linderman,” Tess pursued, “tell us about the acquaintance-rapist.”

Hal Sutton rose to his feet. “Your Honor, while this is surely most enlightening, I fail to see the relevance.”

“Miss Escalante?” Washington queried.

“We believe it’s essential to our case, Your Honor,” the ADA replied, “that the jury be able to distinguish between one type of rape and another, and between one kind of rapist and another. One of the defense’s primary thrusts has been to ask, ‘Why would someone like Senator Willmont need to resort to rape?’ As though all women should just naturally fall at his feet simply because he’s rich and attractive and politically powerful. I think I have every right to try to blow that theory out of the water.”

“Although that argument might better have been made during rebuttal, I’m inclined to allow it,” Washington said. “Objection overruled.”

“Once again, Dr. Linderman,” Tess went on smoothly, bridging the interruption, “will you describe for the jury the last profile you developed?”

“The acquaintance-rapist is a different breed,” the psychiatrist said. “Unlike the stranger-rapist, he’s not necessarily mo
tivated by low self-esteem. He generally likes women, although he rarely respects them, and he may even go out of his way to be charming and attentive. He flirts and woos and convinces himself that any woman he singles out should be honored to accommodate him simply because of who he is. He wants the woman he rapes to know him, because he wants her to be impressed with his facade—his name, his looks, his background, his job, his home, his income and, by extension, his sexual prowess.
He has two delusions: one is that all women find him irresistible; the other is that he’s entitled to take whatever he wants.
It’s strictly a power play for him. We call it the ‘Me-Tarzan-You-Jane’ syndrome. He pursues until she succumbs. But when he comes across a woman who doesn’t succumb, he views his violation of her as just part of the game. He was raised on the concept that all women want to be taken—by force, if necessary.”

“Now
he
sounds familiar,” Demelza murmured under her breath.

“That’s where she was going,” Randy muttered under his breath.

“Dr. Linderman,” Tess asked, “are there any general parameters for this profile?”

“Some,” the psychiatrist replied. “In our program, we found that the acquaintance-rapist tends to be more highly goal-oriented and professionally successful than the stranger-rapist. Like the stranger-rapist, he is usually the product of a dysfunctional family environment, but where the stranger-rapist is himself frequently the victim of incest or physical abuse, the acquaintance-rapist tends to be the victim of either parental overpampering or neglect. In a number of cases we studied, we found that the acquaintance-rapist had learned how to manipulate women at a very early age.”

“Is there any kind of discernible pattern to this type of rapist?”

“I call it more of an anti-pattern,” the psychiatrist replied. “Where the stranger-rapist will plan ahead, and generally very carefully, the acquaintance-rapist rarely plans ahead. He is
much more likely to be motivated by the moment and act on impulse. He might go to a party or a bar with the idea of finding someone to have sex with, but he doesn’t set out to rape the woman. In macho terminology, he’s going to hunt, pursue, and conquer.”

“Conquer?” Tess interjected. “As in war?”

“Sexual dominance was once considered an acceptable form of victory in battle. There’s a famous painting that depicts that attitude. It’s called
The Rape of the Sabine Women.”

“Victory in battle,” Tess echoed.

“Your Honor,” the Silver Fox protested. “Is my client now being accused of ravaging an entire nation?”

“Point taken, Mr. Sutton,” Washington said. “Miss Escalante, may we confine ourselves to the matter at hand?”

“Certainly, Your Honor,” the ADA conceded. “So, Dr. Linderman,” she continued, turning her back to her witness, “our typical acquaintance-rapist is supermacho, spoiled, fancies himself irresistible, and goes out looking to conquer?”

“That pretty much covers it. Of course, he doesn’t necessarily go out on the prowl. He might be interested in someone who lives in his neighborhood or works in his office, and then he might simply wait for the right opportunity. Again, however,
he would never consider what he intends as rape, because he assumes any woman would happily submit to his advances. It’s only when she resists his attentions, when his manipulations fail, that the deep-rooted anger which motivates him flares up and he resorts to violence.”

“Gotcha!” Jenna breathed.

“Shit,” Randy sighed.

“The key to the acquaintance-rapist,” the psychiatrist summarized, “is that he is generally attracted to the woman he ends up violating. What he can’t accept is that
she
might not be attracted to
him.
Starting usually with his mother, women have always done his bidding, so he has every reason to expect this one will, too.
If she resists, he tells himself she must be playing hard to get. In the end, it isn’t that he intends to
rape—it’s that he’s psychologically unable to accept rejection.”

“In your opinion, Dr. Linderman,” Tess concluded, “and as an acknowledged expert, does anything in the profile you’ve described excuse the acquaintance-rapist’s behavior?”

“Absolutely not. Once the woman says no, even if the man doesn’t believe her, if he then forces her into compliance, he is guilty of sexual assault, Miss Escalante, no matter what he tries to tell himself, or anyone else.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” said Tess. “I have no more questions.”

“Did I hear you correctly, sir?” Hal Sutton inquired. “Did you say that, even though a man may sincerely believe he is participating in consensual sex, you believe he is guilty of rape?”

“If the woman resists, yes.”

“I assume that’s a medical opinion, not a legal one, or are you also an attorney?”

“No, Mr. Sutton. I’m just a psychiatrist.”

“Well then, as just a psychiatrist, Dr. Linderman, how do you account for all the women we hear about who resist a man because they think they’re supposed to, not because they really want to? Women who need to have men dominate them sexually in order to overcome what used to be considered a gross lapse in morality?”

“Thirty or forty years ago, perhaps, there might still have been women who reacted like that,” the psychiatrist conceded.
“Today, I doubt there are more than a handful.”

“But suppose we’re talking about a woman who was raised back then, Doctor—say, a woman raised in the 1950s who still remembers the tenets of her upbringing?”

“Objection,” Tess called. “Calls for speculation. How can Dr. Linderman be expected to speak for women raised in the 1950s?”

“He’s been accepted here as an expert on the psychology of rape, hasn’t he?” Sutton argued. “Did the prosecution mean to stipulate that his knowledge was restricted to one specific decade?”

“You’re still asking him to be a mind reader,” Tess persisted.

“Hardly,” the Silver Fox responded silkily. “I’m simply asking him to speak from the depths of his considerable experience.”

“Objection overruled,” Washington said. “You may answer the question, Doctor.”

“I suppose such behavior patterns could continue up to the present,” the psychiatrist replied reluctantly.

“Thank you, Doctor. Now tell us, as part of your extensive research, have you worked at all with alleged victims of rape?”

“As a matter of fact, the second part of our study is devoted to victims, and we are currently working with a group of women whose attackers were both convicted and acquitted.”

“Let’s talk specifically about those women in your study who exhibited significant injuries as a result of what they claimed were acquaintance-rape encounters, injuries not unlike those being represented in the case now before this court.”

“What about them?”

“Was one of those women named Marion Healy?”

“Objection, Your Honor,” Tess interrupted. “Relevance. What does one particular research subject of Dr. Linderman’s have to do with the matter at hand?”

“I assure the court that I will make the connection,” Sutton said smoothly.

“I’ll allow it,” the judge declared.

Tess murmured something quickly to Anne Jenks in the seat beside her, but the staff assistant already had her eyes narrowed in concentration.

The Silver Fox turned his back to his quarry. “Now, Doctor, I repeat, was one of your research subjects a woman by the name of Marion Healy?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

“And during the course of your interviews with her, what did you learn about the circumstances of her alleged rape?”

“How did you get access to my files?” snapped Linderman.

“I don’t know that I had,” Sutton replied blandly. “The case is a matter of public record. My staff may well have learned about Miss Healy from some other source. Again, Doctor, what did you learn?”

“She admitted that she had encouraged the man to have rough sex with her because that was the way she needed it, and that it was only when she saw how badly bruised she was, and after the man refused to pay for her medical bills, that she changed her mind and reported the incident as a rape.”

“Nevertheless, an innocent man was convicted and sent to jail, wasn’t he, Doctor?” Sutton demanded.

“Your Honor!” Tess protested.

“Mr. Sutton!” Washington barked.

“May it please the court,” Sutton argued. “This expert witness has been called to the stand to give us his learned opinions about rape. I think I have every right to ask him to present both sides of the story to the jury. Prosecution opened the door by referring to the research program, and by basing her witness’s expertise in the field on it.”

The judge sighed. “I think he may have you there, Miss Escalante.”

Tess shook her head in disgust.

Anne Jenks picked up a pen and began to scribble on a piece of paper.

“Again, Dr. Linderman,” Sutton pressed, “Marion Healy, whose bruises described in court appear to be somewhat similar to those of the alleged victim in this case, later admitted that she had participated in, and even solicited rough consensual sex,
did she not?”

“Yes, Mr. Sutton.”

“Thank you, Doctor. That’s all.”

“Thank God he was able to get that part of it in,” Mary Catherine murmured from the seat on the other side of Randy.

“I don’t think the judge should have allowed any of that,” Felicity grumbled.

Anne Jenks slid a scribbled sheet of paper over to Tess, who looked at it and jumped up.

“Dr. Linderman,” she said on redirect. “You mentioned earlier that there were four hundred and fifty men in your research program. How many women were there?”

The psychiatrist pulled a notebook from his jacket pocket and flipped through the pages.

“Seven hundred and ten,” he replied when he found the right page.

“And how many of those seven hundred and ten women were the alleged victims of acquaintance rape?”

Linderman peered again at his notes. “Three hundred and forty-two.”

“And how many of those three hundred and forty-two had been injured in some way by their attackers?”

“Forty-eight.”

“All right, in how many of those forty-eight cases did the victim later admit to falsifying the charges?”

“One.”

“Was that one Marion Healy?”

“Yes, it was,” Linderman confirmed. “And I’d like to say something about that, if it’s all right.”

“Certainly,” Tess invited.

“Marion Healy is a disturbed woman who may or may not have been raped. But the man who was first convicted of the crime and then later released when she changed her story is currently serving a twenty-five-year sentence in a Nevada prison for sexual assault and battery.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Tess said. “That’s all.”

“That’s enough,” Janice groaned.

“Way to go,” Mitch exulted.

“What hat did you pull that rabbit out of?” Tess whispered to Anne Jenks.

“I remembered seeing something about it in the Nevada newspapers a while ago,” whispered the staff assistant, who seldom forgot anything she had seen or read or heard.

A
t ten minutes past nine the following morning, Tess got to her feet. “Your Honor,” she said clearly, “there are a number of character witnesses I had originally intended to call before the court, but in compliance with the defense’s expressed wish for a speedy resolution to this matter, we will present just one more witness. The People call… Karen Doniger.”

With a collective gasp, everyone was suddenly alert. People were sitting up, twisting in their seats, eyes trained on the double doors at the entrance to the courtroom. It was what they had all been waiting for. They had been hearing her name for weeks now, but for many of those present, including the jury, this was the first time they would actually see the alleged victim in person.

A photograph of her, taken from the dust jacket of
Tapestry,
had been splashed across the front pages of some of the seamier newspapers, and had even managed to creep onto a few respected television channels, but Robert Willmont’s accuser had held no press conferences, made no public statements, and allowed no interviews.
Hard Copy, Inside Story
and
A Current Affair
had all been turned away with their hundred-thousand-dollar checks still in their pockets.

The doors opened and, with a watchful deputy on either side of her, Karen entered the courtroom. She paused for perhaps five seconds on the threshold before she squared her shoulders, walked straight down the aisle, looking neither to the right nor the left, and marched resolutely through the bulletproof opening toward the witness box, wedged, as it was, between the judge and the jury.

She was wearing a silk suit in a deep mauve color and an ivory Victorian-style blouse with the traditional high lace collar.
At her throat was an opal cameo that Natalie had given her to wear for courage, and on her wrist was a new gold bracelet created by Felicity that Ted had given her.