Redress of Grievances (7 page)

"Jesus!
Why do you need to know things like that?"

"The
prosecution will ask you the same questions if you're called as a witness,
Sylvia, in an attempt to portray Jared as sexually perverted. I can't protect
you unless I know the extent of your personal relationship with him. Is there
anything you'd like to tell me, so I won't be surprised? Have you ever
discussed your sexual encounters with Jared with a friend or co-worker?

"I
may have."

"Did
you tell anyone something that would be potentially embarrassing?"

Once
again Sylvia appeared to be searching for a way to express her thoughts.

"Once
I woke up in bed in Jared's apartment and couldn't remember anything that had
happened. I didn't even remember how I got there. But I knew we had made
love."

"Where
was the last place you remember being?"

"At
a club."

"Were
you drunk?"

"I
don't think so. I had one drink and started a second. I really don't remember
anything after that except waking up the next morning."

"Did
Jared get the drinks for you at the club or were they brought by a
waiter?"

"Jared
got them at the bar."

"How
long had you been dating?"

"Maybe
a month or a little less."

"And
you hadn't been to bed with him yet?"

"No.
He said I had been intoxicated, and he didn't want to leave me alone like that,
so he took me to his place."

"So
you assumed that you consented to sex when you were drunk?"

"Apparently."

"How
did you feel when you woke up?"

"What
do you mean?"

"Were
you hurt?"

"I
had never had sex until then. Maybe it was a good thing I was drunk."

"Intercourse
the first time can be painful."

"I
suppose, but as I said, thankfully I don't remember it."

"But
you were hurt?"

"Mostly
sore. I felt raw, you know."

"Did
you have any bruises on your legs or thighs?"

"I
found one or two on the backs of my thighs but didn't think much of it."

"I
appreciate your candor, Sylvia. I know it's not easy to talk about the intimate
parts of your life."

"I
hope it will help."

Harriett
doubted Sylvia Jennings's testimony would be helpful. A moron would be able to
twist what she had just told Harriett to create a predilection for rape and
violence. If Sylvia's name appeared on the prosecution witness list, Harriett
knew she would have to attack the young woman's testimony.

Chapter
Seven

AS
JARED ENTERED the room to meet with Harriett, he was antsy and refused to sit
down, preferring to pace about the room, smoking a cigarette.

"I
spoke to Sylvia yesterday, Jared."

"She's
a great girl, isn't she?" Jared smiled.

"Why
did you rape her?"

Jared
stopped his pacing and stared at Harriett. "She tell you that?"

"Not
directly. But from what she said, it seemed apparent that you slipped something
into her drink and then later took advantage of her."

"She
didn't fight it. She had too much to drink, and it lowered her inhibitions.
That's all that happened."

"If
she was too drunk to remember anything that happened after two drinks, she must
have an extremely low alcohol tolerance. What did you put in her drink?"

Jared
smiled slightly. "Some sedative my mother kept around the house. Worked
better than I thought it would. I thought it would just relax her, not put her
to sleep."

"Did
you think Sylvia wouldn't get in bed with you without assistance?"

"We'd
been going out a month. She told me she was a virgin, and the idea of having
sex scared her. I helped her relax."

"And
you enjoyed this one-sided sex?"

Jared
pulled out a chair and straddled it. He blew smoke rings into the air and
looked at her. She had seen the look in his eyes before, and there was
something unnerving about it.

"Not
being a man, Harriett, you wouldn't understand what it's like when you pop a
cherry for the first time. Syl never felt a thing. Slept like a baby all night
long, and every time I got hard, all I had to do was roll over and take her.
She never really got wet, but with the help of a little lube, I got her five or
six times real good before she woke up."

It
took every ounce of energy Harriett could muster to not show her disgust and
revulsion at what Wilkes had described, making a mental note to find out if any
of the dead girls had also been virgins.

"I
know what you're thinking, Harriett," Jared said, filling his lungs with
smoke and exhaling it through his nose. "But remember that Sylvia is still
alive. Even if you think I raped her, I didn't kill her, and we're still
fucking like rabbits in heat when we're together. I didn't want to hurt her
then and I never have."

"If
this comes out at the trial, it will hurt your case, Jared. Have you drugged
other women?"

"No.
Not before and not since."

"You
and Sylvia ever do anything sexually that might be construed as unusual?"

"I
don't think so. At least I don't consider them unusual."

"No
domination, S&M, or playing out sexual fantasies?"

Jared
smiled at Harriett. "No, but those sound like interesting ideas. You think
those things are unusual? I mean, I'm sure you're sexually active, counselor.
You do those things with your lover?"

"I
haven't felt a need to make sex any more interesting than it already is,"
Harriett said matter-of-factly. "Anything else you think I should
know?"

"I
think you're an extremely attractive woman, but I guess that's not what you had
in mind. Maybe when this is all over, and I walk out of here, we can get
together for a drink."

"I
don't socialize with my clients. Bad business and it's not likely I'd take a
drink from you anyway knowing what I know."

Jared
threw his head back and laughed loudly.

WHEN
HARRIETT RETURNED to her office at the end of the day, she was surprised to
find Wayne Graham sitting behind her desk with his feet propped up. As she
walked through the door, he looked at his watch.

"I
didn't think you big time attorneys worked long hours like this," Wayne
smiled. "Where the hell you been, girl? I been waiting over an hour."

Harriett
kicked off her shoes and fell onto the couch in her office.

"I've
been to see my client, and now I need a bath. Jesus, what a pervert!"
Harriett said looking at Wayne. "Why are you here?"

"Thought
you'd be glad to see my handsome face."

Harriett
liked Wayne Graham enormously and smiled at him. She noticed that his thick
slate gray hair was beginning to show silver streaks along his temples.

"There's
no one I'd rather see at the end of a long day than you," she said.

"Except
maybe Alexis Dunne."

Harriett
ignored his remark, knowing he didn't approve of her relationship with Alex and
got up from the couch to pour a cup of coffee.

"That
why you're here, Wayne, to give me another morality lecture?"

"Nope,
and that ain't any of my business. But I think I'm fixin' to save you a long
nasty trial. My bill's the same anyhow."

"What
are you talking about?" she asked as she sipped her coffee.

"I
think they're gonna have to cut your boy Wilkes loose. Have you checked out the
warrant they used to toss his crib?"

"I
saw it. So what?"

"Did
you notice the probable cause section?"

"You
mean the informant who said he saw Wilkes?"

"Yeah,"
Wayne said, taking his feet off the desk and sitting up. "You're gonna be
able to tear this guy up quicker'n soggy Shredded fuckin' Wheat."

"The
police claim he's a reliable informant they've used before."

"Come
on, Harriett! I was a cop, remember? Whadda ya think they're gonna say to get a
judge to sign a warrant? Well, your Honor, we got this totally unreliable
schmuck who says he might have seen whatever."

"So
you're saying the police lied to the judge to get the warrant."

"I
did a little diggin', and their so-called informant is a dumb-ass named Raymond
Carter. I busted good old Ray-Ray half a dozen times myself. He's a double duty
junkie. Shoot up both arms at the same time if he could figure out how to do
it. Anyhow, Ray-Ray claimed he saw Wilkes kill that last girl, what's her name,
and the detectives, who were incidentally getting their chops busted to solve
the murders, took Ray-Ray's word and got the warrant."

"Go
on," she said cautiously.

"What
if it was a bogus warrant?"

"But
he knew where the rape and murder took place and a couple of other things that
weren't released to the press."

Wayne
looked up at her and smiled slightly.

"Well,
he mighta had a little help rememberin' those things. Sort of a Henry Lee Lucas
thing."

"How
would he even know Jared Wilkes's name?"

"A
buddy told me they were already zeroin' in on Wilkes but didn't have anything
concrete. They needed the search and kept their fingers crossed."

"This
is all supposition, Wayne. I can't go into the judge and claim police
misconduct with this."

"How
about if you can prove that Ray-Ray couldn't have been anywhere near the park
where the girl was found? Think that'd do it?"

"Possibly."

Wayne
reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper,
extending it toward Harriett. She unfolded the paper and read over it.

"He
was in jail?"

"Yep,
arrested by one Officer Hugh Albertson, and please notice the time," Wayne
grinned.

"This
is before dark. When was he released from jail?"

"Bounced
out on bond the next day. But he spent the night of the crime out of
circulation. But, I suppose he could have used ESP or something."

"Does
Raymond Carter even know he's listed as an informant on this warrant?"

"I
haven't had a chance to track him down, but I doubt it. Ray-Ray used to be a
snitch for one of the detectives who's workin' the cases, though. I think they
took a shot in the dark on this one and got lucky when they found a couple of
things belongin' to the dead girls at Wilkes's apartment."

"Or
maybe they planted the things they found."

"I
don't think I'd take it that far, kiddo. I think your guy's guilty as hell, but
this was a hot case, and I'm sure the cops involved were frustrated and
desperate to resort to this. I guess this is what the public calls one of those
'annoyin' legal technicalities.'"

"Maybe
you shouldn't have given it to me if you think he's guilty."

"You
pay me to help you get scumbags out of jail. He mighta got off anyway,"
Wayne shrugged as he reached for his coffee.

"The
evidence isn't very convincing, no matter how repulsive Wilkes himself is. He
admits he slept with the girls. I found out yesterday that with at least one
woman he used a tranquilizer to get her in bed. If he pulled the same thing
with the teeny-boppers, he might have left them unconscious, and they were found
by a second assailant. There's probably enough reasonable doubt to carry the
case. You think the DA knew about the informant?"

"If
you was a cop, would you tell the DA what you did?"

"I
need to talk to Todd Connor about this. Thanks, Wayne."

"No
prob. Easiest money I've picked up on a case for you. Better than followin'
some guy around to see who he's bangin' while his wife's away," he said as
he pulled himself up from the chair and strolled toward her office door.

The
following morning, Harriett took the information Wayne had uncovered to Todd
Connor's office. Connor was a good prosecutor, and although he was upset by
what Harriett showed him, he accompanied her as she presented a motion to
suppress evidence found at Jared Wilkes's apartment. The following day Wilkes
was released, and all charges against him were dropped. The detectives involved
in obtaining the fraudulent warrant were suspended from duty without pay
pending a hearing, and Internal Affairs launched an investigation.

NEARLY
A MONTH later, Harriett had fallen back into the mundane activities of her law
practice and was enjoying a leisurely lunch with Alex at a restaurant near the
Winston and Dunne offices. They had finished eating and were chatting over a
cup of coffee when they heard raised voices near the restaurant entrance.
Harriett looked up to see Detective James Riley coming toward her. His face was
red with rage, and there was a folder clamped tightly in his hand. A few feet
behind him Detective Harold Wolf hurried to catch up to Riley. The manager of
the restaurant was looking toward their table, holding a telephone receiver to
his ear.