Disclosure: A Novel (33 page)

"You're sorry." Murphy looked around the room in exasperation. "Can anyone explain to me what is going on? Mr. Heller?"

Heller spread his hands. "Your Honor, my client told me what she intended to do here. I consider it a very brave act. She is a true seeker after truth."

"Oh, spare me," Fernandez said.

Judge Murphy said, "Ms. Fernandez, considering this radically different statement from Ms. Johnson, would you like a recess before you proceed with your questions?"

"No, Your Honor. I am prepared to go forward now," Fernandez said.

"I see," Murphy said, puzzled. "All right. Fine." Judge Murphy clearly felt that there was something everyone else in the room knew that she didn't.

Sanders was still wondering how Meredith knew about the tape. He looked over at Phil Blackburn, who sat at one end of the table, his cellular phone before him. He was rubbing the phone nervously.

Phone records, Sanders thought. That must be it.

DigiCom would have had somebody-most probably Gary Bosak-going through all of Sanders's records, looking for things to use against him. Bosak would have checked all the calls made on Sanders's cellular phone. When he did that, he would have discovered a call that lasted forty-five minutes on Monday night. It would stand out: a whopping big duration and charge. And Bosak must have looked at the time of the call and figured out what had happened. He'd realize that Sanders hadn't been talking on the phone during that particular forty-five minutes on Monday night. Therefore, there could only be one explanation. The call was running to an answering machine, which meant there was a tape. And Johnson knew it, and had adjusted her story accordingly. That was what had made her change.

"Ms. Johnson," Fernandez said. "Let's clear up a few factual points first. Are you now saying that you did send your assistant to buy wine and condoms, that you did tell her to lock the door, and that you did cancel your seven o'clock appointment in anticipation of a sexual encounter with Mr. Sanders?"

"Yes, I did."

"In other words, you lied earlier."

"I presented my point of view."

"But we are not talking about a point of view. We are talking about facts. And given this set of facts, I'm curious to know why you feel that Mr. Sanders shares responsibility for what happened in that room Monday night."

"Because I felt . . . I felt that Mr. Sanders had come to my office with the clear intention of having sex with me, and he later denied any such intention. I felt he had set me up. He led me on, and then accused me, when I had done nothing more than simply respond to him."

"You feel he set you up?"

"Yes."

"And that's why you feel he shares responsibility?"

"Yes."

"In what way did he set you up?"

"Well, I think it's obvious. Things had gone very far along, when he suddenly got off the couch and said he was not going to proceed. I'd say that was a setup."

"Why?"

"Because you can't go so far and then just stop. That's obviously ahostile act, intended to embarrass and humiliate me. I mean . . . anyone can see that."

"All right. Let's review that particular moment in detail," Fernandez said. "As I understand it, we're talking about the time when you were on the couch with Mr. Sanders, with both of you in a state of partial undress. Mr. Sanders was crouched on his knees on the couch, his penis was exposed, and you were lying on your back with your panties removed and your legs spread, is that correct?"

"Basically. Yes." She shook her head. "You make it sound so . . . crude."

"But that was the situation at that moment, was it not?"

"Yes. It was."

"Now, at that moment, did you say, `No, no, please,' and did Mr. Sanders reply, `You're right, we shouldn't be doing this,' and then get off the couch?"

"Yes," she said. "That's what he said."

"Then what was the misunderstanding?"

"When I said, `No, no,' I meant, `No, don't wait.' Because he was waiting, sort of teasing me, and I wanted him to go ahead. Instead, he got off the couch, which made me very angry."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted him to do it."

"But Ms. Johnson, you said, `No, no.'"

"I know what I said," she replied irritably, "but in that situation, it's perfectly clear what I was really saying to him."

"Is it?"

"Of course. He knew exactly what I was saying to him, but he chose to ignore it."

"Ms. Johnson, have you ever heard the phrase, `No means no'?"

"Of course, but in this situation-"

"I'm sorry, Ms. Johnson. Does no mean no, or not?"

"Not in this case. Because at that time, lying on that couch, it was absolutely clear what I was really saying to him."

"You mean it was clear to you."

Johnson became openly angry. "It was clear to him, too," she snapped.

"Ms. Johnson. When men are told that `no means no,' what does that mean?"

"I don't know." She threw up her hands in irritation. "I don't know what you're trying to say."

"I'm trying to say that men are being told that they must take women at their literal word.

That no means no. That men cannot assume that no means maybe or yes."

"But in this particular situation, with all our clothes off, when things had gone so far-"

"What does that have to do with it?" Fernandez said.

"Oh, come off it,"Johnson said. "When people are getting together, they begin with little touches, then little kisses, then a little petting, then some more petting. Then the clothes come off, and you're touching various private parts, and so on. And pretty soon you have an expectation about what's going to happen. And you don't turn back. To turn back is a hostile act. That's what he did. He set me up."

"Ms. Johnson. Isn't it true that women claim the right to turn back at any point, up to the moment of actual penetration? Don't women claim the unequivocal right to change their minds?"

"Yes, but in this instance"

"Ms. Johnson. If women have the right to change their minds, don't men as well? Can't Mr. Sanders change his mind?"

"It was a hostile act." Her face had a fixed, stubborn look. "He set me up."

"I'm asking whether Mr, Sanders has the same rights as a woman in this situation.

Whether he has the right to withdraw, even at the last moment."

“No.”

"Why?"

"Because men are different."

"How are they different?"

"Oh, for Christ's sake," Johnson said angrily. "What are we talking about here? This is Alice in Wonderland. Men and women are different. Everybody knows that. Men can't control their impulses."

"Apparently Mr. Sanders could."

"Yes. As a hostile act. Out of his desire to humiliate me."

"But what Mr. Sanders actually said at the time was, Ì don't feel good about this.' Isn't that true?"

"I don't remember his exact words. But his behavior was very hostile and degrading toward me as a woman."

"Let's consider," Fernandez said, "who was hostile and degrading toward whom. Didn't Mr. Sanders protest the way things were going earlier in the evening?"

"Not really. No."

"I thought he had." Fernandez looked at her notes. "Early on, did you say to Mr. Sanders,

`You look good' and `You always had a nice hard tush'?"

"I don't know. I might have. I don't remember."

"And what did he reply?"

"I don't remember."

Fernandez said, "Now, when Mr. Sanders was talking on the phone, did you come up, push it out of his hand, and say, `Forget that phone'?"

"I might have. I don't really remember."

"And did you initiate kissing at that point?"

"I'm not really sure. I don't think so."

"Well, let's see. How else could it have occurred? Mr. Sanders was talking on his cellular phone, over by the window. You were on another phone at your desk. Did he interrupt his call, set down his phone, come over, and start kissing you?"

She paused for a moment. "No."

"Then who initiated the kissing?"

"I guess I did."

"And when he protested and said, `Meredith,' did you ignore him, press on, and say, `God, I've wanted you all day. I'm so hot, I haven't had a decent fuck'?" Fernandez repeated these statements in a flat uninflected monotone, as if reading from a transcript.

"I may have . . . I think that might be accurate. Yes."

Fernandez looked again at her notes. "And then, when he said, `Meredith, wait,' again clearly speaking in a tone of protest, did you say, Òh, don't talk, no, no, oh Jesus'?"

"I think . . . possibly I did."

"On reflection, would you say these comments by Mr. Sanders were protests that you ignored?"

"If they were, they were not very clear protests. No."

"Ms. Johnson. Would you characterize Mr. Sanders as fully enthusiastic throughout the encounter?"

Johnson hesitated a moment. Sanders could almost see her thinking, trying to decide how much the tape would reveal. Finally she said, "He was enthusiastic sometimes, not so much at other times. That's my point."

"Would you say he was ambivalent?"

"Possibly. Somewhat."

"Is that a yes or a no, Ms. Johnson?" Yes.

"All right. So Mr. Sanders was ambivalent throughout the session. He's told us why: because he was being asked to embark on an office affair with an old girlfriend who was now his boss. And because he was now married. Would you consider those valid reasons for ambivalence?"

"I suppose so."

"And in this state of ambivalence, Mr. Sanders was overwhelmed at the last moment with the feeling that he didn't want to go forward. And he told you how he felt, simply and directly. So, why would you characterize that as àsetup'? I think we have ample evidence that it is just the opposite an uncalculated, rather desperate human response to a situation which you entirely controlled. This was not a reunion of old lovers, Ms. Johnson, though you prefer to think it was. This was not a meeting of equals at all. The fact is, you are his superior and you controlled every aspect of the meeting. You arranged the time, bought the wine, bought the condoms, locked the door-and then you blamed your employee when he failed to please you. That is how you continue to behave now."

"And you're trying to put his behavior in a good light," Johnson said. "But what I'm saying is that as a practical matter, waiting to the last minute to stop makes people very angry."

"Yes," Fernandez said. "That's how many men feel, when women withdraw at the last minute. But women say a man has no right to be angry, because a woman can withdraw at any time. Isn't that true?"

Johnson rapped her fingers on the table irritably. "Look," she said. "You're trying to make some kind of federal case here, by trying to obscure basic facts. What did I do that was so wrong? I made him an offer, that's all. If Mr. Sanders wasn't interested, all he had to do was say, `No.' But he never said that. Not once. Because he intended to set me up. He's angry he didn't get the job and he's retaliating the only way he can-by smearing me. This is nothing but guerrilla warfare and character assassination. I'm a successful woman in business, and he resents my success and he's out to get me. You're saying all kinds of things to avoid that central and unavoidable fact."

"Ms. Johnson. The central and unavoidable fact is that you're Mr. Sanders's superior. And your behavior toward him was illegal. And it is in fact a federal case."

There was a short silence.

Blackburn's assistant came into the room and handed him a note. Blackburn read the note and passed it to Heller.

Murphy said, "Ms. Fernandez? Are you ready to explain what's going on to me now?"

"Yes, Your Honor. It turns out there is an audio tape of the meeting."

"Really? Have you heard it?"

"I have, Your Honor. It confirms Mr. Sanders's story."

"Are you aware of this tape, Ms. Johnson?"

"No, I am not."

"Perhaps Ms. Johnson and her attorney would like to hear it, too. Perhaps we should all hear it," Murphy said, looking directly at Blackburn.

Heller put the note in his pocket and said, "Your Honor, I'd like to request a ten-minute recess."

"Very well, Mr. Heller. I'd say this development warrants it."

Outside in the courtyard, black clouds hung low. It was threatening to rain again. Over by the fountains, Johnson huddled with Heller and Blackburn. Fernandez watched them. "I just don't understand this," she said. "There they all are, talking again. What is there to talk about? Their client lied, and then changed her story. There's no question that Johnson's guilty of sexual harassment. We have it recorded on tape. So what are they talking about?"

Fernandez stared for a moment, frowning. "You know, I have to admit it. Johnson's a hell of a smart woman," she said.

"Yes," Sanders said.

"She's quick and she's cool."

"Uh-huh."

"Moved up the corporate ladder fast."

"Yes."

"So . . . how'd she let herself get into this situation?"

"What do you mean?" Sanders said.

"I mean, what's she doing coming on to you the very first day at work? And coming on so strongly? Leaving herself open to all these problems? She's too smart for that."

Sanders shrugged.

"You think it's just because you're irresistible?" Fernandez said. "With all due respect, I doubt it."

He found himself thinking of the time he first knew Meredith, when she was doing demos, and the way she used to cross her legs whenever she was asked a question she couldn't answer. "She could always use sex to distract people. She's good at that."

"I believe it," Fernandez said. "So what is she distracting us from now?"

Sanders had no answer. But his instinct was that something else was going on. "Who knows how people really are in private?" he said. "I once knew this woman, she looked like an angel, but she liked bikers to beat her up."

"Uh-huh," Fernandez said. "That's fine. I'm not buying it for Johnson. Because Johnson strikes me as very controlled, and her behavior with you was not controlled."

"You said it yourself, there's a pattern."

"Yeah. Maybe. But why the first day? Why right away? I think she had another reason."