AC05 - Death Mask (4 page)

Brett explained that once the team had shared the spoils, they could all get on with their lives. He really loved Hannah, he said, and this was only a few hours, and she never even had to find out.

Anya listened to this man justify his actions, bile rising in her gullet. This was someone who had not only betrayed his wife, but subjected her to gang-rape on what was the night of her first sexual experience. He had also risked her contracting a life-threatening infection and becoming infertile. All for his football mates.

Face in his hands, he said, ‘If the boys had worn condoms, none of this would have happened.’ He looked up at Anya. ‘What you do is tell Hannah she probably got the infections from a toilet seat, like on the plane. She doesn’t need to know any different.’

Anya put her pen down. ‘You’re telling me to lie to your wife?’ He stood up, car keys in hand. ‘It’s the best thing for her. The way I see it, telling her what happened will ruin her life. Why do that to her? Her infections are now clear and she doesn’t remember anything. Why put her through this?’

Anya felt a rash forming below her neck and continued to try to contain her anger. ‘Hannah came here because she wants – and deserves – the truth.’

‘I think I know better than you what my wife wants. Besides, you can’t say anything I don’t want you to. Everything I said is confidential. You say one word to her and I’ll sue you for everything you’ve got.’

Anya swallowed hard. ‘I’m afraid that in some situations, where others are likely to come to harm, I’m legally bound to notify the authorities.’

He jabbed a finger in her direction. ‘That’s bullshit! I know my rights.’

The thing he hadn’t considered was that other people had rights as well.

‘The infections passed on to Hannah are what we call notifiable diseases. The information has to be forwarded to the health authorities. In fact, the pathology lab may have already passed on the results of Hannah’s tests. What that means is that it’s a legal obligation for doctors not only to notify but also to begin contact tracing, with or without your cooperation. We’d begin by asking Hannah for the names of the other players, which would be otherwise easily located in club records. It’s then my job to phone every member of the team and warn them that they may have come into contact with these infections. It also means alerting their partners to the possibility they had been exposed to sexually acquired infections and the possible complications.’

Perspiration returned to Brett’s face, this time above his top lip and forehead.

‘Jesus, the shit will really hit the fan. Some of the blokes are married with kids.’

Anya chose to leave the room before she said something unprofessional and provided him with an opportunity to play victim in court. The possibility of police involvement was, of course, entirely up to Hannah.

She was sitting outside, flicking through an old magazine. Anya asked her into another room and offered her a coffee while she popped out to check some results. Mary Singer was in a nearby office. As one of the most experienced rape counsellors in the unit she was Anya’s preferred choice to become involved with Hannah’s case.

Anya tried to explain the situation as succinctly as possible. ‘I’ve just found out from the husband that his wife was drugged
and assaulted on her wedding night by him and a group of his friends.’

Mary’s eyes widened over her half-glasses. ‘I thought I’d been around long enough to hear everything.’ She quickly downed the dregs of her own coffee. ‘I’m guessing the bride doesn’t know yet.’

‘Nope,’ said Anya, ‘and I need your help to tell her, and to make sure things don’t turn nasty with the husband.’

Anya made a piping hot cup for Hannah and took it in while Mary retrieved Brett Dengate.

P
hotographers and reporters hounded Anya and Hannah outside the court. Dakota tried in vain to protect her sister. ‘We hear there was a settlement. Can you tell us how much you were paid?’

‘Did your husband and the other men admit to raping you?’

‘Why did you take a settlement? Did you think you were going to lose?’

‘Can you tell us why you chose to sue for damages? The public deserves to know.’

‘How do you feel now the trial’s called off?’

‘Why aren’t you giving interviews? What do you have to hide?’

Hannah clutched Anya’s hand and tried to escape all the attention. The large sunglasses did little to disguise her distress. Even so, Hannah had come a long way in the year since Anya had first met her. She had moved to the inner city, changed her surname and job, and bought a small apartment, which she was busy decorating. The decision to sue her husband and his friends for damages caused by sexually transmitted infections and the emotional stress they had caused had not been easy. Without physical evidence or a corroborating witness, no criminal charges could be laid. Instead, Hannah had wanted her
former husband and his friends to answer for their crimes, albeit in a civil court. It was the only way she could make any of them face up to what they had done. She wanted them to know the damage they had caused, and warn other women about their rapist behaviour. The case was sure to set a legal precedent and attract extraordinary media attention.

‘Who’d rape you, you fat ugly bitch?’ a male voice rasped from the crowd.

‘You filthy slut! You seduced my husband then cried rape.’ Anya turned to see the speaker this time, as something hard hit the side of Hannah’s head. Hannah dropped to the ground, as if a bomb had gone off. Dakota shrieked.

Momentarily stunned, Anya looked at her jacket to see egg dripping from her cheek.

A dark-haired man in a sports jacket moved in front of them, shielding them all from further hits.

Mary Singer pushed through. ‘We need the police. She’s been assaulted.’

The cameras moved in even closer to record the incident and aftermath.

The man in the jacket was already phoning for assistance and copped an egg on his forehead for his trouble.

Realising the projectiles were harmless, Anya pulled Hannah to her feet. Mary and Detective Inspector Hayden Richards, head of the sexual assault unit, herded the three women towards an unmarked police car. Anya looked for the man who had tried to protect them, but he had disappeared into the crowd.

‘Get your fucking hands off me,’ a woman yelled behind the pack. Some of the cameras gave chase as uniformed police pushed her to the ground.

With the four women in the car, the detective screeched into the traffic, ensuring they weren’t being followed before heading for a nearby suburb. He parked off a side-street, near a café. There was little chance of being harassed at the Green Fiddler, a popular spot for police at any time.

Anya removed her jacket and went to the bathroom, with
Hannah and Dakota close behind. The two women dabbed at their stained clothes with paper towels and cold water. It was Anya’s new jacket and it was supposed to last her for years.

‘What just happened?’ Hannah was still shaking. ‘I didn’t do anything wrong, but it’s as though what Brett and his friends did to me is still all my fault.’

‘Still?’ Anya looked her in the eye. ‘It was never your fault.’ She sighed. ‘To the media, this is another headlining story, and judging by the response on talkback radio, it’s dividing more than your local town. Unfortunately the whole press machine thrives on anything involving sex, sportsmen and scandal.’

‘You shouldn’t have to defend yourself. You were the one who was drugged and gang-raped.’ Dakota had clearly been deeply affected by her sister’s ordeal and the subsequent legal proceedings.

Anya grabbed some more paper towels and dabbed her jacket again. ‘Court cases, even civil ones, are rarely about justice. They’re more about winning at any cost. Brett could have faced criminal charges if he admitted to what he did under oath. So he did everything possible to discredit you by saying you were unstable and seeing a counsellor. The last thing he wanted was to have a jury decide. That’s why his lawyer chose to fight it out in the media, and get free advertising for himself in the process. It’s the old adage, “The best form of defence is attack.” ’

‘So I’m violated by my husband and his mates, then publicly called crazy because I needed professional help dealing with it? No amount of money will make up for that.’ Hannah hurled her wad of wet towelling at the wall. ‘It’s just wrong.’

Anya couldn’t argue. She moved to the wall and collected the wet towels, depositing them in the bin. She touched Hannah on the arm and said gently, ‘Look, I know it’s been really hard on you but you’ve stood up against those men and let everyone know what they did to you. That has to count for something, doesn’t it?’

Hannah washed her face with cold water while Anya picked
up her jacket. ‘Take your time, we’ll see you outside when you’re ready.’

Hayden Richards had already ordered the coffees.

‘How’s she doing?’ Mary asked.

Anya rubbed her eyes with one hand. ‘She needs a few minutes. Dakota too.’

Mary pushed back her chair. ‘I’ll go talk to her.’

Anya was relieved for the emotional break. This case had affected her more than she’d anticipated. It was the betrayal of trust that was so difficult to take, and the fact that Brett Dengate had stolen Hannah’s innocence and optimism. Hannah had been wise to settle the matter before it got to court. Publicity had ensured the men were identified and any potential victims warned off. It was the best outcome under the sad circumstances.

Hayden poured some sugar into his cappuccino.

‘I thought you’d given up.’

He grinned, some froth lingering in his moustache. ‘GP now thinks I’ve lost too much weight. Wish he’d make up his mind.’

The detective looked pale, a stark contrast to the man who had been morbidly obese and perpetually ruddy-faced less than a year ago. Inflammatory bowel disease was obviously still taking its toll, not that Hayden would ever discuss it.

‘You’ve got …’ She waved a finger near his moustache, which he wiped with a serviette.

He lowered his voice. ‘How are you doing?’

‘Oh, fine. I think Hannah’s decision to settle will help her to move forward. She’s come so far already, I know she’ll be fine.’

‘Any chance of you taking a break?’

Anya appreciated the detective’s concern. ‘We’re presenting that study we talked about to a senate committee in the morning. Believe it or not, the Federal Health Department wants me to work on a programme for the sports industry in order to teach male team players that women aren’t sexual objects for vilification and humiliation. It could take months – that should keep me off the streets for a while.’

‘Good luck with that,’ Hayden said, touching her wrist.
‘That culture’s ingrained in team sports, has been for as long as I can remember.’

‘Glad you’re so supportive because I recommended you for the education programme.’

His mouth turned downward.

Hers did the opposite.

‘Your years of experience in homicide and sexual assault are exactly what we need. I heard from one of the committee that you played State level rugby league.’

‘Yeah, well, most of my old team mates are now crippled with knee damage and some are unemployable. A labourer isn’t much good if he can’t bend his knees.’ He waved to a waiter. ‘A turkey and cranberry sauce wrap with a plate of potato wedges, thanks. What about you, Anya?’

She shook her head. ‘I’m fine for now.’

Just then Hannah, Dakota and Mary returned from the bathroom. Hannah looked brighter, but Anya could see the strain around her eyes.

‘OK, I need an opinion,’ Hannah announced. ‘For curtains.’ She pulled out two swatches of fabric. One was pale pink with pastel checks, the other mauve with lilac and turquoise flowers.

Just then her phone vibrated and she tentatively glanced at the screen. ‘I need to change my number again. It’s a text. From Brett.’ She put the phone down and Dakota picked it up and said, ‘If he’s making threats, the police need to know.’ After a few moments’ silence, Dakota read out the text.

‘He says he forgives you and wants you back.’

Hayden wiped his mouth again. ‘I’ll be happy to help the cause, Anya, however I can.’

Anya checked her watch. ‘I’ll let the health department people know. I’m sorry to leave you, but I have a plane to catch.’

Hannah stood and hugged Anya tightly. ‘Thank you, Anya. Without you, I never would have found out and I’d still be with Brett and his friends.’

Anya placed her hands on the back of the woman’s shoulders, unsure what to say. ‘I was only doing my job. Without
you, I wouldn’t have begun researching the culture of men’s sports and the government wouldn’t be taking steps to address it.’ Hannah broke away. ‘And for what it’s worth, I’d go with the floral material. It’s fresh and the flowers are perennials.’

A
nya wanted to be sick. This was even worse than testifying in court, more like oral exams at medical school. The equivalent of six examiners – the senate committee – were about to tear her down and humiliate her, only this would be far more public. The television crews confirmed that.

The paper she and Professor Nigel Everett had co-authored was still receiving international attention. Thanks to publication in the
International Journal of Forensic Science
, psychology and sports magazines had run stories, along with newspapers all over the world. The US media had highlighted a number of alleged cases of gang-rape in elite sports teams, using sex, celebrities, money and scandal to sell stories and referring to the study for authority. It was not the response she had anticipated after questioning sports team culture since meeting Hannah.

The investigation into a code of conduct in sport wanted Anya to present her study results. Professor Everett had flown to Australia from his retirement villa in Florida to appear, but only on the condition that he then go fly-fishing with his friend, forensic pathologist Doctor Peter Latham, who was also Anya’s mentor.

‘Beautiful morning,’ Nigel said, clapping his gloved hands together. He seemed pleased to be here, despite the cold – hardly Florida weather. The temperature was yet to hit two
degrees Celsius in Canberra, despite the cloudless sky. Anya shared neither the professor’s enthusiasm for the weather, nor his apparent delight at the attention of the television cameras set up to greet them outside Parliament House.