Got the Look (46 page)

There's something I need to get to the bottom of, Cassandra.

Whoa. That had an ominous ring to it.

He looked up from his steaming coffee. I think you've been lying to me.

An awkward smile drained from her face. What?

I don't believe you when you say that for seven years you thought your sister was dead. Agent Henning doesn't either.

It's true.

No, it's a lie.

She seemed on the verge of another denial, ready to dig in her heels. Something in Jack's demeanor, however, told her not to bother. She looked away nervously, toward the cashier, toward the slowly revolving display rack of dessert pies. Anywhere but at Jack. How long have you felt this way?

Honestly, I was getting bad vibes right from our first conversation. I asked if your sister had a cut on her thigh, and you said you didn't remember anything about that from the preliminary hearing. Turns out, it did come out at the hearing, and the whole thing was public record. That's the problem with lying. Sometimes you pretend to know way too little.

That doesn't mean I knew she was alive all this time.

No. But Henning figured that out when she asked you why you didn't push the prosecutor in Atlanta to bring murder charges against Montalvo. I have to agree with her. If I thought some scumbag had murdered a member of my immediate family, I'd beat on the prosecutor's door every day, or at least every week. But you never did a thing.

Do you even want to hear the reason why?

Not really. The only explanation that makes any sense at all is that you knew all along. You knew your sister was alive.

She brought her cup to her lips, and Jack noticed her hand was shaking. She swallowed and said, Let's say I did know, just hypothetically speaking. Would it make a difference to you? Would you stop trying to help her?

No. You have my word on it. It won't change anything.

She lowered her eyes. For a brief instant Jack thought she would let the moment pass, saying nothing. Then finally the words came in a weak, distant voice. I knew.

From day one?

No. I'd say it was more like day two.

You talked to her the day after she went missing?

Yes. On the phone.

What did she tell you?

She shrugged a little, still uncomfortable. That she had to leave. Disappear.

How long?

Forever.

Did she tell you why?

For her own safety.

I presume she was well aware that Montalvo had gone missing the same day.

Of course. That was why she ran.

Because she was afraid, Jack suggested.

Yes, of course. The judge made his ruling right after the hearing. You know, that Montalvo was going to stand trial for rape.

The rape she lied about.

Cassandra bristled. Excuse me?

Jack didn't enjoy being tough on her, but with a DA considering murder charges against Mia, this was no time to pull punches. She lied about being raped by Gerard Montalvo. That's what the polygraph examination showed.

Those things aren't always right.

But it was right this time. I know it. And you've known it for seven years.

Her expression tightened, but there was no denial.

Jack said, I figure that Mia cut herself before going to the cops in order to make her claim more convincing. There was no semen or other physical evidence of a crime, since she wasn't actually raped. The leg wound made her lie more believable to the authorities.

My, you certainly seem to have all the answers, said Cassandra.

But we haven't touched on the biggest question of all: Why did she lie about the rape in the first place?

You obviously have an active imagination. I'm sure you have an answer to that, too.

The results of that lie detector test were really interesting. Mia failed the two rape questions. Then she was asked if Montalvo was responsible for the cut on her leg. The wording of that question is very important. She said yes, and the polygraph examiner couldn't tell if she was lying or telling the truth. That tells me two things. One, she lied about the rape. Two, she felt justified in making the false accusation. Or maybe even compelled to make the accusation. In her own mind, that made Gerard responsible for the cut she inflicted on herself.

Cassandra was silent.

Mia wasn't raped, said Jack. And Montalvo didn't cut her, either.

She wasn't after his money, said Cassandra, her voice straining. Her lawyer made that clear at the hearing when he offered to settle any civil lawsuit for just one stinking dollar. There was no reason for her to lie.

You're right. Money wasn't driving her. But she had an even better reason to lie.

She shifted from side to side, as if debating whether to get up and leave. I don't know what you're talking about.

You answered that question yourself, the last time you and I spoke, when you told me why you didn't attend the preliminary hearing. Do you remember your words? You said your sister made you stay away, because you could be deported.

That's true. I was an illegal alien. Teresa's visa was still good, but mine was expired. I couldn't go near a courthouse without risk of deportation.

Jack leaned closer, bearing down on her, as if he were cross-examining a squirming witness. You couldn't prosecute a rape claim.

That's my whole point. I couldn't be a part of my sister's hearing or even watch it.

I don't mean your sister's case. I mean your own. Montalvo raped you. And you couldn't bring the charges, because you were illegal.

She was struggling not to give him anything, not even through body language, but the force of his words was equal to her seven-year lie. Jack pushed on. I can understand entirely how that would make you and your sister furious. She was legal, and you weren't. So she stepped into your shoes. She made your story her own, and she took it to the police. That's why it took three days to report the crime to the police. That's why the polygraph showed that she was lying about the rape. That's why the polygraph didn't show that she was lying when she said that Montalvo was responsible' for the cut on her leg.

Cassandra lowered her head, staring down into her lap. It was almost imperceptible, but Jack was certain that she'd nodded once, a silent confession.

His tone softened. And that's why Montalvo's buddy Richie had it in for her, even after all these years.

Cassandra finally looked at him. He didn't see much emotion on her face, but there was some pain, maybe even hatred, for what he was doing. Despite it, Jack pushed ahead. You were raped by Gerard Montalvo. And when your sister failed the polygraph, and the case started to crumble, it was you who killed him.

Jack had hit her with all the cold facts he could muster. She drew a breath, as if trying to recover. Almost, Jack. You almost got it right.

Tell me where I went wrong.

I need your assurance that this is confidential. An attorney-client privilege that never leaves this table.

Fine. It's totally confidential.

She checked over her shoulder, an instinctive move to make sure no one was listening. The night that Teresa and I went to the bar, the bouncer walked right past me and handed my sister the business card. It was a little game that Montalvo played. Got the Look. Any woman who looked the type to have sex for money, if enough cash was offered, was someone with the Look.'

I know. That came out at the preliminary hearing. There was no dispute that she got the card and went up to Montalvo's suite.

But she went only because I encouraged her to go. She came back about twenty minutes later. She practically dragged me out of the club and said we were going home. I could see she was really flustered, but I didn't want to leave.

Why not?

She shrugged. While she was upstairs, another bouncer came by and gave me a card, too. I didn't know what Got the Look' meant. My sister didn't tell me it had anything to do with sex for money. She just came down all frazzled and said we were leaving. I told her forget it, I wanted to stay.

She didn't try to stop you?

Of course she did. She told me that this guy Montalvo was a bad actor and that we had to get out of there. I figured that she was blowing it all out of proportion and just wanted to go home, or maybe there were drugs up there - Teresa was very against drugs. Anyway, I lied to her and told her that I'd run into a friend while she was upstairs and that we were going to hit another club. Teresa seemed okay with that, so long as I was leaving Club Vertigo. So she left in the cab without me.

You didn't tell her that the bouncer had given you a Got the Look' card?

No. I guess I didn't want her to talk me out of going to the party. I wanted to see for myself.

So you went upstairs. Then what happened?

She swallowed hard, and Jack could see the shame all over her face. You have to understand, I had dreams when I came to this country. I wanted to go to college, have a career. Then my visa expired. Do you know what kind of job opportunities I had? I was a housekeeper making two hundred bucks a week, literally cleaning toilets. All my money was going home to my family in Venezuela. Suddenly, I'm invited up to this suite with some rich boy who puts five thousand dollars, cash, on the table. All I have to do is sleep with him. I said no way. He added another thousand. I still said no. Every time I said no, he pulled out another stack of bills. I mean, this was more money than I'd ever seen in my entire life.

So you took it.

No. We struck a deal, and I I got undressed. As soon as we got started, I guess I came to my senses. I couldn't believe what I was doing, and told him to stop. He wouldn't. I tried to push him off me, but he just kept going and saying, You know what you are, bitch, you know what you are.' I couldn't get him off me. When he was done, he called in his muscleman, Richie. They both laughed in my face as he kicked me out the door half undressed. I didn't take the money, but I told Montalvo that he'd pay, all right.

So, at that time, you were determined to bring rape charges?

I think so. Actually, I didn't know what I was going to do. By the time I got home it was almost five o'clock in the morning. My sister was worried sick, and when I got undressed she saw that I wasn't wearing any underwear. Like I said, Richie threw me out of the suite half naked. I was lucky even to grab my dress and shoes. Teresa knew I wasn't the kind of girl to come home with no panties, and she kept pushing to know what happened. I didn't know what to say. I wasn't even sure I had been raped, legally. I told Montalvo yes, then I said no. It was confusing to me.

It's rape, said Jack. Saying yes doesn't mean you can't change your mind.

That's what Teresa said. But she was also smart enough to know that I couldn't go to the police. I was illegal in this country and would have been deported. I didn't ask her to do anything, but she was my older sister. She has always looked out for me.

Lying to the police was Mia's idea?

Yes, but she was doing it only to make sure that Montalvo got what he deserved. Can't you see that? Her little sister was raped, and that bastard was going to get away with it simply because I was illegal and powerless to protect myself.

So she told the DA that she was Montalvo's victim.

Yes.

And the cut on her leg? Self-inflicted?

She tried, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. So

You did it?

She nodded. I didn't want to, but Mia was convinced that her rape claim wouldn't fly without some physical evidence of an assault. She said that Montalvo tried to make her watch some pornographic movie about a woman cutting herself. Her hope was that the cops would search his suite and find the video, which would show his fascination with that sort of thing and support her claim that he cut her in that exact same spot.

All right, I'm with you so far. But how did you end up killing Montalvo?

Her eyes began to well. Jack didn't like the way she was looking at him. Cassandra, are you saying

She was just looking out for her little sister, she said, sniffling back tears. When she failed that lie detector test and the DA told her that they were going to plea-bargain, Montalvo and his goon kept on threatening her. She wouldn't back down. Then the judge made his ruling, and Montalvo turned up the heat.

Turned it up how?

That night, we went out to dinner. When we were driving home, we noticed this car that was following us. Teresa kept driving, but the car kept tailing us. Then we stopped at a red light, and we could see that it was Montalvo.

What did you do?

Teresa kept driving, and he kept tailing us. She finally pulled into a parking lot. She'd had enough of his threats. All she wanted to do was to tell him that he'd better back off or she'd call the police. But he'd scared her so much over the course of the preliminary hearing that she'd started carrying a gun in her purse. He threatened her again that night in the parking lot. Things got out of hand. He came at her, like he was gonna hit her, and she, she

She shot him?