Got the Look (28 page)

Thanks for meeting me on such short notice, said Jack.

Charlene was squeezing a little orange stress-relief ball as she spoke. Agent Henning told me you'd probably be coming to see me. I figure if you're going to pay Teresa's ransom, you're entitled to know what she's been through.

So, you're convinced that Mia used to be Teresa?

No doubt in my mind.

Are you equally convinced that the kidnapper is Gerard Montalvo?

Montalvo and his Got the Look' proposition forced women to put a value on their own body. It's not that much of a psychological stretch to infer that the same sociopath would force a husband to put a value on his kidnapped wife.

Is that a yes - Montalvo is the kidnapper?

I do agreed that the psychology behind the MO is similar in the two crimes. Beyond that, Henning didn't tell me much about her suspect. Basically, nothing more than what was said at this morning's press conference.

Welcome to the club, said Jack. Which is why I'd really like to learn more about Montalvo and that first crime against Teresa.

She hesitated just long enough for Jack to sense that a disclaimer was coming. The case against Montalvo was technically still an open file when I left the DA's office. I can tell you what you want to know, so long as it was public information.

I'll take whatever I can get. It was obviously public information that Montalvo fled at the end of the preliminary hearing. Tell me about that.

Not much to tell. The judge ruled that there was sufficient evidence to bind him over for trial. Next morning, he was gone, and so was Teresa. That was the last anyone heard of them.

What was your initial thought? That he killed Teresa and took off?

We had to consider that, yes. But it seemed equally plausible that Montalvo threatened her before he fled, or that he tried to harm her and she escaped. Since her car was missing, we didn't rule out the possibility that she went into hiding, maybe even left the country.

Interesting. You held out hope that she was alive, but her sister was convinced that she was dead.

I didn't say we held out a lot of hope, said Charlene. We never found her car, and she left everything behind. Passport. Money in her checking account. Her credit-card spending trail ended the day before she disappeared. The way she left, you'd think she was dead.

Jack considered it. Or, more important, Montalvo would think she was dead. If she thought he might come back to get her, it behooved her to create the impression that she succumbed to her own fears and drove her car into a canal or a lake somewhere.

Yes. Or as you say, she could have been so afraid that Montalvo was out to get her that she didn't have time to pack a bag and take care of her affairs.

Jack took a moment to collect his thoughts. Charlene passed the stress ball back and forth, left hand to right. It was obvious that the Montalvo case nagged at her - the one that got away.

Jack said, Why do you think Montalvo jumped bond, Charlene?

I thought we'd already covered that.

Not entirely. Was it because you had such a strong case against him?

Like I said, I can't comment on that. The file was still open when I left the DA's office.

I can't imagine that you made a habit of bringing weak cases.

No. But some cases are more difficult than others.

Yes. But if this was such a difficult case for the prosecution, I'm sure Montalvo's lawyer would have told him that. Why would he have run?

I'd say he overreacted to the ruling at the preliminary hearing. He went home, and poor little rich boy finally came to terms with the fact that he might do serious jail time. You get convicted of rape in Georgia, it means ten years, minimum, even if it's a first offense.

Probably more like ten to twenty in his case.

How would you know that?

I saw the scar on Mia's leg. She never told me how she got it, but if she got it when she was Teresa, that's a nasty aggravating circumstance.

Charlene's expression hardened. She was cut pretty bad. That's why it burned me up so much, the way the family came after her.

The family?

The Montalvos. They threw everything they had at her, trying to make it look like she made it all up so she could file a civil lawsuit. Like it was a shakedown for the family's money.

How rich were they?

Filthy. Gerard owned five or six nightclubs that hemorrhaged hundreds of thousands of dollars every year. Family didn't care. It was just chump change.

Did their strategy work? Going after Teresa, I mean.

It definitely got to her. I prepared her for the usual assortment of idiotic statements that rape victims face. Cracks like, If you go walking in the rain, you're bound to get wet.' But even I was surprised by the lengths the family went to in their efforts to paint her as someone who falsely cried rape so that she could sue for millions civilly.

What kind of things did they say about her?

Well, the first thing they had to deal with was that cut on her thigh. That son of a bitch sliced open her leg with a broken lightbulb. Then he had the audacity to claim that she cut herself, just to bolster her rape charge. And that was only the beginning.

Tell me, said Jack. It will help me understand him better.

She drew a breath, thinking. Let me see if I can even recall everything. They doctored some photographs showing her with naked men. Digital stuff, you know. She did some modeling in her early twenties, and they somehow got hold of the photos.

Nude, you mean?

No. These were totally innocent. Just close-ups of her face. But it doesn't take a digital-photography genius to paste a girl's smiling face between two gigantic erections, make it look like she's about to take on both of them. This was plastered all over the Internet two days before the preliminary hearing.

Scumbags.

Then there was the poem.

A poem?

Yeah. They leaked it to the press and said it was a poem she'd written in her diary. Then somebody recognized it as song lyrics, so they changed their tune and said it was a song on one of her favorite CDs.

What song was it?

Charlene made a face, as if she were trying to divide 694 by 17. She rose and went to her computer. I remember some of the lyrics. Let me search and see what happens. She typed a few words, then got her results. Here we go. She stepped aside, and Jack checked out the lyrics to Nasty Girl by Bronx Bitches.

It's a group of female rappers, said Charlene.

Reading the lyrics, Jack would have guessed as much:

I make it nice and E-Z, then I say raped me, boy you gonna pay me. Cuz I'm lookin' for the big bucks, careful who the star fucks. Think you got some big balls?I want em. I got em. I cut dem off.

Jack stepped away from the screen. Doesn't sound like something Mia would like.

Of course she didn't. It's just one more stunt that Montalvo and his club goons pulled to discredit her. I'm sure there were others, but that's all I remember now. They put this girl though living hell.

Did the defense put on any evidence at the preliminary hearing?

They had one witness. A bouncer from Gerard's nightclub. He testified that Teresa knew she was going up to the room for money.

Wait a second, said Jack. You mean the defense, on its own initiative, revealed the meaning of Got the Look'?

Yeah. It was the main thrust of the bouncer's testimony.

So, their defense was based on an actual admission that Gerard liked to hire women for sex who were -

Hooker virgins, said Charlene. Hookers who never hooked before. I think those were the witness's exact words.

Jack mulled it over. Not a bad strategy, actually. You tell the honest truth about something totally embarrassing, and that gives the world all the more reason to believe your story that Teresa had consensual sex for money.

It definitely gave us fits outside the courtroom. Local talk radio had a field day. One of my well-meaning friends from the rape crisis center was even quoted on the front page of the Journal-Constitution saying that a prostitute deserves the same protection from rape as anyone else. That's true, of course. But imagine how that made Teresa feel, to be lumped together with prostitutes who need protection.

How did you plan to counter that?

That's when we brought in our surprise rebuttal witness.

Who?

Her expression changed, and it was the closest thing to a real smile Jack had seen on Charlene's face all morning. She walked around her desk and removed a videocassette from the side drawer. I dug this out just yesterday for the FBI, overnighted a copy to Agent Henning.

Is that the whole preliminary hearing?

Just the state's rebuttal. Local television covered our final witness, live, once they got wind of what was afoot. One of my more clever moves as a prosecutor, if I do say so myself.

I'll watch with interest, he said, taking it.

Do that, she said, her tone very serious. And I'll bet you come away with a much better understanding of why Mr. Montalvo ran for the hills.

Chapter
42

The videotaped broadcast of Gerard Montalvo's preliminary hearing arrived in the FBI's Miami field office the following morning, direct from Charlene Wright.

Andie found a quiet room on the second floor with a television and a VCR. Paul Martinez sat beside her at the conference table. The lights were off, and the two agents were bathed in the bright blue glow of an idle television screen.

Will this take long? asked Martinez.

A few minutes. This Charlene Wright works very efficiently. Supposedly, it's a complete refutation of Montalvo's claim that the victim cried rape just so she could tag him with a multimillion-dollar civil suit.

Let it roll, said Martinez.

Andie hit the Play button, and the screen came to life. First a test pattern, then the WXIA logo, and finally the date and the case name - State of Georgia v. Gerard Montalvo - which carried them back to Georgia Superior Court, some seven years earlier. The camera focused on the witness, a slightly balding but handsome man wearing a dark blue suit and a bright red tie. There were some background noises in the courtroom, the shuffling of feet, a few coughs from the gallery. Then the camera angle widened, and Andie watched the screen as Charlene Wright approached her final witness for the prosecution.

Please state your name and occupation, said the prosecutor.

The witness leaned toward the microphone. He didn't appear nervous, but something about his body language suggested that the witness stand was an odd place for him to find himself. My name's Henry Talbridge. I'm a licensed attorney in the state of Georgia.

What kind of law do you practice?

I'm a trial lawyer.

Are you familiar with this case, State versus Montalvo?

Yes, I am.

Do you know the alleged victim? Wright turned to the judge before the witness could answer and said, Your Honor, I'll maintain the protocol of not mentioning the victim by name, despite the fact that the defense has done its best to make her the most recognizable figure in Atlanta since Hank Aaron.

Objection. The voice came across loudly over the videotape, but the defense counsel remained off camera.

Sustained, said the judge, but the government's point is well taken. The witness may answer.

I do know the alleged victim, said Talbridge. In fact, I'm her attorney.

When did you become her attorney?

I believe it was one week after she reported her assault to the police.

A chorus of rumbles emerged from the gallery.

Off-screen, back in the FBI conference room, Martinez grabbed the remote control and hit the Pause button. She hired a civil attorney before the criminal case was even held over for trial?

Apparently so, said Andie.

How does that refute the argument of the defense that she was gunning for a lawsuit and a big payoff?

Andie shrugged. I guess we can watch and find out.

Martinez hit Play, and the action continued on-screen.

The prosecutor said, Now, Mr. Talbridge, I'm sure you're aware of the various questions that the defense has raised about the bona fides of the accusations against Mr. Montalvo.

The witness scoffed and said, That's putting it mildly. It's a daily deluge of charges that my client is nothing but a gold-digging liar.

How is your client coping with those accusations?

Objection. How is she coping? Is this witness her lawyer or her psychiatrist?

I'll rephrase, the prosecutor said. Mr. Talbridge, in the past two weeks, how many times have you, personally, been asked if your client intends to file a civil lawsuit against the accused if he is convicted of raping your client?

Oh, my word. Hundreds of times.

And your answer has been - what?

My client and I will make that decision at the appropriate time.