AC05 - Death Mask (9 page)

‘That’s a good question. Female condoms exist but they aren’t as readily available, and cost a lot more than male condoms. The advantage of you men taking precautions is that you can prevent pregnancies as well. You may not be so keen on supporting children you didn’t plan for the rest of their lives.’

Mention of money captured everyone’s attention.

‘And for those of you with wives and girlfriends, think about what you might be bringing home to them if you choose to have other partners and don’t use condoms.’ She paused to let that sink in.

‘There is actually
another
reason for using condoms. In recent years there’s been more than a twenty percent increase in head and neck cancers.’

On the screen the slide changed. A tumour deformed what was a woman’s tongue. Her eyes were blacked out to maintain anonymity.

‘Based on what I’ve already told you, can anyone suggest why?’

A voice from the back offered, ‘I heard the pill causes cancer? You can’t blame us for that.’

‘No, but as we already discussed, the human papilloma virus is implicated in cervical cancer. It can also cause oral cancers – tongue, mouth, throat and neck. Since oral sex has become more common, it’s no surprise we’re seeing an increase in those types of cancer.’

The group objected loudly to the notion.

‘Come on!’

‘This has gotta be crap!’

‘Man, that blows, that really sucks!’

Awkward laughter followed.

‘One way to prevent it, apart from being vaccinated against the HPV virus, is to always wear condoms for oral sex.’

As she had anticipated, the advice was not well received.

‘Now you’re telling us we’re causing cancer.’ A red-haired man who looked barely old enough to be a rookie stood up angrily. ‘There’s got to be lots of reasons for things like that.’ He motioned to the screen. ‘Like … like smoking, there’s more pollution these days, more chemicals in food. Bet there are loads of other causes.’

Others agreed. ‘My grandma says there didn’t used to be cheese in a can or even the Internet or … or cell phones. Maybe any of them’s the reason.’

Anya was surprised at how unworldly some of these men were, despite having attended college.

Anya raised her hands.

‘I’m not here to judge you, just to give you the most up-to-date information.’

Anya let that sink in, then checked her watch. It was time for a break.

The emcee stepped forward. ‘Let’s take fifteen. And don’t go wandering off. Bathrooms, drinks and snacks are all just outside.’

By the speed with which the ballroom evacuated, Anya would have thought someone had shouted ‘fire’.

For the sake of the men’s present and future partners, she hoped some of her message had got through. If not, these men’s prestige and attraction to women could end up costing them their lives, one way or another.

A
nya switched off her mike and loaded the study DVD of dramatised sexual assaults into her computer.

Ethan Rye leant on the presentation table, hands in his jeans pockets. ‘Please tell me that first slide was computer-generated.’

‘Wish I could. You have to remind yourself that’s a person, with a family and friends.’

‘Speaking of friends, someone’s just arrived who is keen to meet you.’

Anya could not wait to meet the woman she would be speaking with next. She left her computer and headed out the first set of double doors. By the coffee table stood Linda Gatby, recognisable from the photo in her textbook.

Taller than Anya had imagined, Linda was wearing a pale blue suit, cream blouse and sensible heels. The colour near her face complemented her blonde hair and pale blue eyes.

She greeted Anya with a hug. ‘It is so good to meet you in person. It feels like we’ve been friends for years!’

The warmth of the assistant district attorney took Anya by surprise. She had always been professional and courteous in correspondence. According to reports, she was often criticised by defence lawyers for being cold. Then again, that was how the media liked to portray powerful women, and Linda
was responsible for setting up a separate unit within the New York Police Department to investigate and prosecute sexual crimes.

‘Thanks for your kind recommendation,’ Anya mustered.

Linda pulled back, still holding Anya by the elbows. ‘You have helped me out so many times with your opinions, I didn’t hesitate when Catcher asked me to be involved and if I knew you. Besides, how else could I get us in the same city?’

She smiled broadly.

‘Catcher?’ Anya wondered.

Ethan raised his index finger. ‘That would be me.’

‘Anything to do with JD Salinger?’

He sounded genuinely impressed. ‘Most people think I played baseball.’

He headed for a long table surrounded by players. Presumably this was where the food could be found. A waitress with a tray of hot finger food didn’t get close to the table before being relieved of her bounty.

Linda helped herself to a coffee, and Anya opted for tea. They stood apart from the others to speak in private.

‘I’m late because an incident took place last night in a nearby hotel. There’s reason to believe some of the players here participated in a gang-rape. I’d like your opinion on the exam findings of the victim, a young woman called Kirsten Byrne, when you get a chance.’

Anya looked at the group. ‘How is the victim?’

‘Pretty traumatised. Problem is, she didn’t report it immediately. I only just got the call. Emergency have done a rape kit, but she’d showered first and rubbed her skin raw with some kind of scourer.’

Anya felt for the woman. Wanting to wash off any reminder of the attack was one of the most common reactions to rape. She wondered how much forensic evidence had been destroyed in the process.

Anya glanced around at the group eating, laughing and drinking cans of sugary caffeine drinks as if they were water.
For a moment she understood what the Lilliputians felt like in
Gulliver’s Travels
.

Anya knew that members of all the league’s teams throughout the country had been sent to this summit. She asked Linda which particular teams were staying at the hotel where the woman claimed she was assaulted.

‘The players Kirsten identified came from the New Jersey Bombers.’

Anya glanced around. No one in the room appeared nervous or scared. There was no overt sign that some of them may have just committed a violent crime. She decided to look for scratches on any of their hands or forearms, anything to suggest the victim fought back. Many of them had earphones in and iPods playing. Others spoke incessantly on their phones, while a small number played video games. All in a fifteen-minute break.

Experience and research showed that ten percent of people in groups like these were leaders who initiated aberrant behaviour. An amazing eighty percent, like sheep, followed. That left only ten percent who were strong or capable enough to dissent. They would be the conscientious objectors in the group.

She wondered which personalities here were dominant enough to start trouble and which were strong enough to end it. Anya turned back to Linda and explained that they would run through the video scenarios and she’d ask what the players thought had happened.

‘The next session is good timing then. We can run through the DVD scenarios and maybe get some insights into the group’s response.’

Anya had sent Linda a copy of the DVD along with the study results when they were published. She was grateful that she could get such an experienced prosecutor’s valuable input and insights into the group.

‘We could turn the main lights on as soon as each scenario is done. That way you can steer the questions depending on the response we get,’ Linda suggested.

‘We think alike,’ Anya smiled. The more they could see of the players, the more they might learn.

Back inside the ballroom, Anya played the first of the scenarios. It began with a woman at a bar laughing and drinking with a group of men. She was particularly flirtatious with one man, who asked if she’d like to go back to his place. By the way the pair interacted, the attraction was mutual. The man explained that he shared a flat with a male friend.

The girl didn’t object, and the pair shared a taxi. The couple began kissing in the back seat. Once at home, they had a couple of drinks and laughs with the flatmate before retreating to the man’s bedroom and closing the door.

The sound of a couple making love would have followed the quiet, but the audience began to cheer and whoop. Then, on-screen, the man came out of the bedroom and the flatmate went inside, into the unlit room.

There were more sexual noises, and the sound of some kind of struggle, and then the woman screamed. She hurried out of the room dressed only in a large T-shirt and ran out of the front door.

Anya paused the DVD and turned to the players. ‘What just happened?’

There was a prolonged silence.

‘You edited out the best bit?’ someone shouted.

More quiet, until they realised the question was serious.

One volunteer spoke. ‘They went back, had sex, then she left in a hurry. Who knows why. Maybe she sobered up and saw what the men really looked like.’

Anya looked around for someone to explain the problem. Nothing.

‘She stole his shirt?’ someone else attempted.

The group’s response was not a surprise, but was more disturbing given the alleged events of the previous night.

‘Can anyone think of a good reason why she ran out the door as if something terrible had just happened?’

Her question was met with more uncomfortable silence.

‘What if I told you that she went straight to the Emergency department to report a rape?’

‘That’s bullshit. She went back to that place willingly,’ someone else proclaimed.

From the back of the room came Linda’s voice. ‘I’m a sex crimes prosecutor and I see many women just like this one.’ Linda moved through the aisle between the seats. ‘She claims the second man raped her, because she had only consented to sex with the first man.’

‘No way.’

‘She’s lying.’

‘She’s a slut.’

The group seemed united in its condemnation of the woman. One dark-haired player raised his hand, and Anya gestured for him to speak.

‘Hey, she made it pretty clear she was up for it. Look at the way she gave him the come-on and was laughing with both of them. She was up for it and let them both know it.’

Anya was disheartened that no one in the group, or at least the ones who spoke, saw anything wrong with what had happened in that bedroom.

‘What if she didn’t know it was the second man until after they’d had sex?’ Anya prodded.

‘Like he said,’ a new voice added, ‘she let both men know she was up for it, and it was her choice to drink in the first place.’

The consensus still appeared to be that the woman had consented to sex with both men the moment she went back to the apartment. They even blamed her for drinking.

Without further comment, Anya played the next film.

Three men were playing poker and drinking in a house. One said he was too drunk to drive, so the others suggested he sleep on the lounge. They then drank more beer, and laughed together before calling it a night.

The visitor stripped to his boxers and T-shirt and fell asleep on the lounge. He woke up face down, underpants at his ankles, with one of the men naked on top of him. He began to struggle
but couldn’t throw off the other man. When the man on top of him had finished, the visitor ran out the front door, pulling up his boxers.

The DVD stopped again.

‘This man presented to the police that morning. What do you think happened?’ Anya paced in front of the players.

‘It’s pretty obvious. That guy just got raped.’

Without hesitation, there was group agreement.

Linda took over. ‘How do you know the sex wasn’t consensual?’

‘Are you kidding?’ the dark-haired man asked. ‘No man wants to do that. It’s totally unnatural, and it’s disgusting. Am I right?’ He waved both arms in the air for support, which he received.

Linda moved forward, as if addressing a jury. ‘Just like the girl in the first story, he had been drinking. Don’t you think by agreeing to go to the men’s place he was giving at least one of them the come-on?’

‘No way. He never wanted to have sex with them. He just wanted to crash on the sofa.’

The men didn’t appear to see any similarity between the two victims.

Anya played the third story. This time, a group were in a nightclub. One couple was dancing on the floor and began kissing. The man ran his hand up the woman’s short skirt and suggested they go somewhere where they could be alone. She laughed and took his hand, leading him to the women’s bathroom. Inside the cubicle, the kissing became more intense and he removed her panties and undid his fly. Then he turned her around, pushed her head forward and held it down as he penetrated her from behind. She could be heard telling him to stop, arms flailing at his hand and the walls, in what looked like a struggle to get free.

When the man had finished, he did up his trousers and left the cubicle without a word. Another woman walked into the bathroom and found her inside, sitting on the cubicle floor, crying. She told the woman she had just been raped.

‘Any comments?’ Anya asked.

‘What is it with these women crying rape? What the hell did she want from him?’ Janson piped up.

‘Maybe she was pissed and he just left her there in the toilet. He didn’t even say thanks,’ a younger-looking man in one of the front rows offered.

An older team mate agreed. ‘Yeah, you get girls like that who put it out then want some kind of romance. Maybe he coulda bought her another drink. That would have been a bit more gentlemanly.’

Anya could barely believe her ears. There was nothing you could describe as gentlemanly about the man’s behaviour.

‘I saw a woman just like this,’ Linda announced. ‘She agreed to have sex with the man, and openly admitted that, but she only agreed to have vaginal intercourse with him. She had never had anal intercourse before, and thought it was wrong. That’s why she objected and asked him to stop. By forcing her, the way you saw, he committed rape. Consent to one sexual act, believe it or not, does not mean consent to every imaginable sex act.’