Equivocal Death (31 page)

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Authors: Amy Gutman

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a bobbing head pressed hard against her breast. Her eyes were ad-19

justing to the dark.

20


Come on, now, come on.

21

That voice, so familiar. But where . . . Then, in a blinding mo-22

ment, she knew exactly who it was.

23

Chuck Thorpe.

24

The shock of the realization was so great that she almost 25

stopped breathing. At the same instant, almost as if he could read 26

her mind, Thorpe stopped. He roughly pulled his hand from her 27

body, wiping it on her black suit jacket. Stepping back, he held her 28

firmly in place, his hands pressing into her shoulders.

29


I guess that’s enough for tonight.
” Kate could make out a sneering 30

smile. “
You really should learn to relax, Ms. Paine.

31

Kate stared across the room, her mind still struggling to com-32

prehend what had just happened. From the corner of her eye, she 33

watched Thorpe brush off his clothes. Still watching her, he picked 34 sh

up the jacket he’d dropped on the built-in bookshelf and put it on.

35 re

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A M Y G U T M A N

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Then he opened the office door and sauntered out. Kate was 2

vaguely aware of minutes passing. Still, she continued to gaze 3

straight ahead, leaning against the wall where he’d left her.

4

It was some time before she thought to move.

5

6

7

During the ride home, Kate sat silently in the backseat of the taxi 8

she’d flagged down outside the building. On a normal night, she 9

would have called for a car from one of the fleets retained by the 10

firm to transport its late-working minions. But this was no normal 11

night. The familiar sights of Broadway flashed by. She tried to fo-12

cus on her surroundings, anything to stop herself from thinking.

13

The deli where she sometimes grabbed a tuna fish sandwich. A 14

burned-out fast-food joint, charred and vacant. All she wanted was 15

to be home, alone, safe behind her own locked door.

16

An interminable fifteen minutes later, she was closing and bolt-17

ing her apartment door. She scanned the familiar room. The well-18

worn sofa still cluttered with remnants of this morning’s
Times.

19

The desk piled high with papers and unopened mail. The tall 20

bookcases against the right wall. Everything was just as she’d left it.

21

And yet, instead of calming her, the effect was one of further dis-22

location. Objects she’d left that morning — a half-full coffee mug 23

on the pine coffee table, a blue glass vase full of dried flowers —

24

seemed alien, sinister in their blank indifference. This apartment 25

belonged to the woman she’d been before, to a person who no 26

longer existed.

27

Slowly, as if she were a visitor in her own home, Kate walked to 28

the small hall closet and hung up her cape. Then, in a burst of mo-29

tion, she headed for the bathroom. Stripping off her crumpled 30

clothing, she turned on the shower full blast and stepped inside.

31

The water was scalding, but she didn’t try to adjust it. She almost 32

welcomed the pain, as if it could somehow erase what had hap-33

pened.

ort 34

For some time, Kate stood immobile under the stinging jets of reg 35

water, letting them pound into her skin. Then she picked up a bar 9858_02_153-356_r6jm.qxd 9/28/00 3:59 PM Page 177

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of soap and a loofah sponge and began to scrub, first gently and 1

then harder. She could feel her skin smarting beneath the rough 2

strokes, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was getting rid of any 3

traces of Chuck Thorpe. She brought her whole concentration to 4

bear, moving over her body piece by piece, inch by inch, washing 5

herself from head to toe. Still, she didn’t feel clean enough. She 6

could feel Chuck Thorpe’s heavy weight pressing against her chest, 7

his hands, damp and insistent, roaming over her body. As torrents 8

of water pounded against her, Kate retraced the path again, paying 9

special attention to the places that Thorpe had touched. Her 10

shoulders. Her breasts. Between her legs. Finally done with this 11

task, she squeezed a glob of shampoo into her palm and started in 12

on her hair.

13

It was half an hour before Kate emerged from the bathroom, her 14

head wrapped in a towel, her body encased in a full-length robe.

15

After the dull roar of the shower, the empty silence of her apart-16

ment filled her with a vague unease. As she pulled the terry-cloth 17

length of her robe more tightly around her body, Kate could feel a 18

pulse beating in her head. Then, without warning, she was hit by a 19

blinding rage. The emotion seemed to come from somewhere out-20

side her, storming the fragile battlements of her self-control. It all 21

came back to her, the scent of Thorpe’s sweat, the sound of his 22

breathing, the sensation of his hands on her breast, between her 23

legs. Anger surged through her like an electric current. There was 24

nothing rational about this feeling, nothing reasoned or consid-25

ered. Thinking of Thorpe, she wanted, quite simply, to destroy 26

him.

27

Then, just as quickly, the rage receded, leaving her desolate and 28

alone.

29

What was she going to do?

30

The obvious next step was to call the police. And yet, what 31

would that really accomplish? People would arrive; phones would 32

ring; events would be set in motion. She saw herself in a hospital, 33

interrogated by uniformed officers, klieg lights shining down on 34 sh

her body. Instead of the independent woman she’d struggled to be-35 re

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come, she’d now be known as a victim. Someone to be questioned, 2

pitied, and examined. Someone who, unable to protect herself, 3

had been forced to seek help from strangers.

4

This was not who she wanted to be.

5

Leaning against the wall, Kate pressed her hand to her face. If 6

she could just calm down, think more clearly. If she could just shut 7

down her emotions and let her mind work, her cool, analytic 8

mind. Then she could figure out what to do.

9

A drink. Maybe that would help. Somewhere in the kitchen she 10

had a bottle of red wine, a Christmas gift from a legal transcription 11

company. She located the dusty bottle in a cabinet behind a stash 12

of seldom-used pots and pans.
Chateau Whyte Legal Services.
She’d 13

kept it as a sort of joke, the ultimate bottle of bad Long Island 14

wine. But tonight she’d hardly know the difference. Kate’s hands 15

trembled as she jammed a corkscrew into the bottle, and it took a 16

few yanks before she finally pulled out the cork. She took a wine-17

glass out of a cabinet and filled it almost to the brim. Still standing 18

at the counter, she took two long gulps. Then, carrying the glass 19

along with the bottle, she moved to the living room.

20

For a moment, she thought of calling someone. Tara or Andrea.

21

Or maybe Justin. Someone who could help her decide what to do 22

next. But she already knew what they’d say: they would tell her to 23

call the police. And she couldn’t do that. At least not yet.

24

And it wasn’t just the immediate repercussions. There was also 25

the question of her career.

26

Even if the charges stuck, her career at Samson & Mills would 27

be effectively over. WideWorld Media was one of Samson’s most 28

valued clients, an account worth millions of dollars a year. If she 29

accused Chuck Thorpe of sexual assault, she’d be launching an at-30

tack on WideWorld as well. Samson could never continue to rep-31

resent Chuck Thorpe in a sexual harassment case when one of its 32

own lawyers had accused him of sexual assault. LAWYER AT-33

TACKED BY SEX MAG MAGNATE. She could see the tabloid ort 34

headlines now.

reg 35

And then there was the issue of Samson’s reputation. If the fight 9858_02_153-356_r6jm.qxd 9/28/00 3:59 PM Page 179

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over Madeleine’s partnership election had drawn news coverage, 1

just think what would happen now. One female partner murdered.

2

Another attacked by a client. Samson would be caught in a media 3

feeding frenzy. And it would all be her fault. Or so it would seem.

4

So what if Chuck Thorpe was a psychopath? She would still be the 5

one to pay the price. Nothing — not her Harvard degree, not the 6

countless hours she’d put in at the firm — would be able to salvage 7

her career. She could already imagine how events would unfold.

8

She would be questioned gently, respectfully. She would be granted 9

a paid leave to recuperate and rest. Everything would be done to 10

show that the firm had her best interests at heart. The partners 11

would act as though they were on her side, as though things would 12

go on as before.

13

But everything would have changed.

14

Instead of a valued member of the Samson team, she would have 15

become an outsider, a quantity to be contained and controlled.

16

And when the furor had died down, she’d be urged to seek other 17

employment. All for her own good, of course. They would do any-18

thing they could to help her. But they wouldn’t want her around.

19

Her presence would be inextricably linked to a scandal they hoped 20

to forget. Even if they believed her, they still wouldn’t want her 21

around.

22

She’d have to start over. Again. The thought filled her with de-23

spair. It was as if she’d been starting over her whole life. Her par-24

ents’ divorce. Her mother’s death. Michael’s betrayal. An endless 25

succession of things breaking down. At Samson, she’d thought she 26

finally would be able to rest. That in exchange for all her hard 27

work, she’d be allowed to take root in one place. But now . . .

28

Taking another long sip of wine, Kate let her head fall back on 29

the sofa. As if from a great distance, she looked back on the 30

evening’s events. Her late-night return to a darkened office. The 31

surprise attack. The moment she’d first seen Thorpe’s profile.

32

Again, a burst of anger shot through her.
Chuck Thorpe.
Who 33

was he to place her in this position? To force her to give up every-34 sh

thing she’d worked so hard to achieve? But there was something 35 re

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muted about the anger. Mingling with rage, she sensed another 2

emotion, subtle but growing stronger.

3

Doubt.

4

It nagged at the edges of her mind, crowding out other thoughts.

5

Had she really done all she could to fight back? Or was this whole 6

thing partly her fault?
Why didn’t you struggle? He didn’t have a
7

weapon, at least none you could see. Why didn’t you try to get away?

8

Kate drank down what was left in her glass and poured another.

9

She drank patiently, industriously, waiting for relief. Slowly, almost 10

imperceptibly, a heavy warmth settled in her stomach, like a cat 11

curling up for a nap. Minutes passed. Kate drank some more and 12

felt the glow build.

13

I should do this more often,
she thought.
How wonderful not to feel.

14

Maybe she should just try to forget about this, pretend that it 15

hadn’t happened. . . . But that was ridiculous. You couldn’t just let 16

it go, not something like this . . . or could you? Worse things, much 17

worse things, happened on the streets of New York every day.

18

Madeleine Waters’s murder, for one. Here she was, safe at home, 19

drinking a bottle of wine. Anyone who saw her now would see a 20

woman to be envied. She still had her health, her job, her home.

21

Nothing external had changed. Was it really so terrible what had 22

happened to her? Or was she overreacting? Even if they believed 23

her, would the New York police really care? She was still sentient.

24

Still in one piece. She hadn’t even been raped.

25

Or had she?

26

With an involuntary shudder, she remembered the brutal thrust 27

of Thorpe’s hand, his fingers groping around inside her. Penetra-28

tion, yes, just not with the usual object. It was like an issue-spotter 29

question on a law school exam, where they tried to trick you by 30

switching the facts. Penetration, yes; penis, no. What result? She 31

could feel laughter welling up inside her, but what came out was a 32

strangled bark.

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