Summitt

Chapter Twenty-Four

Judge Flood’s clerk said, “Place your left hand on the Bible and raise your right hand. Do you solemnly swear that the testimony you are about to give is the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

“Yes, I do.”

“State your full name.”

“Shana Teresa Selby.”

“State your address.”

“Mill Lane and Fairlee Road. Muhlenburg, R.D., Pennsylvania.”

“Please be seated.”

Shana removed her hand from the Bible and took the witness stand. Her face was pale. Tiny silver clips held back her long hair. As Brett approached the stand, Judge Flood rapped his gavel to quiet a stir in the courtroom, a murmuring tension, anticipation.

When the sounds faded, Flood said, “I don’t want any disorder in this courtroom. The testimony to be given will be of an intimate and sensitive nature. Television coverage of these hearings has been suspended for the duration of plaintiff’s testimony.”

Flood raised his eyes to the crowded spectators’ gallery. “If there is any unseemly reaction to these proceedings I will order the marshals to clear the court. Your presence here is a privilege, not a right.”

Swinging around in his chair, the judge looked down at Shana. “Now, young lady, I don’t want you to be nervous. I want you to be just as relaxed as possible. Take your time answering our questions. If there is anything you don’t understand, feel perfectly free to ask the People’s attorney or myself for clarification. You understand?”

Shana nodded yes, then blushed, realizing she would have to say yes out loud so the court stenographer could record it.

“Yes, sir.”

The judge nodded to Brett. “The People may proceed.”

“Thank you, Your Honor... Shana, I’d like to go back to October sixteenth of last year, a Friday. On that day, you rode your bicycle from your house down to Fairlee Road?”

“Yes.”

Brett had positioned herself so that she could watch the judge and jury’s reactions to Shana’s responses.

“How far is it from your driveway on Mill Lane to Fairlee Road?”

“About a hundred yards, I think.”

“What time of day was it?”

“It was just getting dark. It was around five o’clock.”

“Do you ride down to Fairlee Road every afternoon?”

“No, not every afternoon. But when the weather was nice, I usually did.”

“Did you usually go alone?”

“Sometimes my brother Davey went with me. Or I took our dog—”

“But on this afternoon, you were alone?”

“Yes.”

“So what you were doing — riding your bike a hundred yards from your home — that was routine and casual after-school activity. Is that right?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Shana, will you tell the court in your own words what happened on that particular Friday afternoon?”

Shana began her recital in a firm voice, her eyes fixed on Brett’s... “I heard a car coming, it was still a long way off, but I got over to the shoulder of the road. I couldn’t see the car, there’s a curve where Mill Lane and Fairlee come together. The car was on the other side of the curve. I could hear it. It was going the — opposite way I was—”

“Excuse me, young lady,” Judge Flood said, “but I’m not sure I get the picture.”

“Well, that’s what I saw, sir.”

“Yes, but we want to be sure the jury sees everything just as you did.” Flood glanced at Brett. “A question or two might clarify the geography for us, Miss Brett.”

“Yes, Your Honor. Shana, you were facing the sound of the approaching car, right?”

“Yes...”

“You rode onto the shoulder of the road when you heard it?”

“Yes.”

“Did you get off your bike?”

“No, I just stopped and put my foot on the ground.”

“You were in full control of your bicycle?”

“Yes, I wasn’t moving at all.”

“And the car was heading toward you? You saw it then?”

“Yes.”

“Could you see the driver?”

“Yes. It was a man, he was alone. The car came around the curve and slowed down.” Shana swallowed; the small dry sound traveled to the ends of the big room. “He headed straight for me then and I knew he was trying to kill me—”

Davic stood and said quietly, “Objection, Your Honor. There is no evidence to support that conclusion.”

“Sustained. Young lady, I don’t want these proceedings to confuse you. So let me explain something to you now. I’ll try to be as clear as I can. We want you to tell us just what happened, and when it happened. But you mustn’t get into the why of it. It’s possible the driver fell asleep or was distracted by a flash of sunlight. I’m not saying that’s what happened, you understand. It’s just as an example. He could have driven onto the wrong side of the road for a number of reasons. But we can’t admit your conclusion that he did so for the purpose of harming you. Is that clear?”

“Yes, I think so. Sir.”

“Good. Please go ahead, Miss Selby.”

“The car came over to my side of the road, heading straight to me. I tried to get out of the way, but the fender hit my bike. I heard a grinding kind of noise, and then I was in the gulley beside the road. A man got out of the car and ran over to me. I thought he wanted to help me... I’m sorry if that’s a... a conclusion, but it’s the only reason I could think of. Then he grabbed me and got me to my feet and pulled me toward his car. I started to try to get away from him and he hit me in the face. I tried to—”

“Tell me, young lady,” Flood interrupted, “what did the alleged assailant hit you with?”

“His hand. His fist, I mean.”

“Please go on.”

“I hit him back and tried to get away from him too. I must have fallen down because he picked me up again and hit me in the neck and in the face. That’s all I remember until we were inside his car somewhere, driving in the back country.”

Judge Flood said, “How did you know you were in the country, Miss Selby?”

“I... I don’t know. But I couldn’t hear any other traffic, and the air smelled like meadows.”

Brett said, “Shana, will you please tell the judge now if the man who forced you into his car that afternoon is present in this courtroom?”

“Yes... He’s sitting next to his lawyer there, Mr. Davic.”

“Will you point to him?”

A stir of excitement as Shana pointed to Earl Thomson.

“That’s him, Miss Brett, right there.”

“Let the record show that the plaintiff has pointed to and identified the accused, Mr. Earl Thomson.”

Davic put a hand on Thomson’s arm and said something in a whisper. A flush of color had come into Earl’s face.

Brett said quietly, “Shana, tell us what happened then?”

“We drove through the... the darkness for a long time.”

Judge Flood looked annoyed but said nothing.

“My face hurt where he hit me. I tried to watch the numbers on the... the odometer, I think it’s called. I thought I could figure out the distance. But I was partially on the front seat beside him and partly on the floor. It was hard to look without moving my head and I was afraid he’d know I was conscious and could see... We turned into a driveway. He pulled me out of the car and made me go into a house with him. It was starting to rain. He was angry about something. He shouted at me, told me to sit on a chair. It was a living room with a fireplace and antlers. I saw that when he turned on a lamp. He tied one of my arms to the arm of the chair with a thin strip of leather like the kind we use on ice skates, square and hard. It was new, I think. I asked him what he was going to do with me. He didn’t tell me, he didn’t say anything, I mean. He went into the kitchen and closed something... shutters, I think, from the sound. He made a fire in the fireplace with paper and kindling. Then he turned on a record player and started shouting at me again, about how bad I was. The music was classical, I think, lots of horns and woodwinds. I didn’t recognize it, though. He drank something in the kitchen. He filled a glass from a bottle and drank it and filled it again. It was whiskey, I could smell it. Then he came and stood where I was in the chair. There was a water stain on the ceiling just above me. He started shouting again. He told me I was a sinner, that I was evil, I would be sent to hell by myself. Everything seemed crazy then. I thought once I was having a terrible dream. I hadn’t done anything wrong. I hadn’t knocked anyone down with a car and tied them up. But he kept getting angrier, said I had to be punished.”

Shana locked her hands in her lap and stared down at her whitening knuckles. A wall clock ticked stolidly in the silence, lights gleaming on the brass pendulum. In a low voice, Shana told how the man had knelt to take off her sandals, how a rivet had torn from the cloth while he jerked and pulled at her cut-off jeans, of the tearing of her cotton shirt... How after releasing her from the chair he had pushed her across to a canvas cot, forcing her to lie on her back, then had bound her wrists over her head to the wooden supports of the cot...

“And you were struggling all of this time?” the judge asked her.

“I was trying to talk to him,” Shana said, “but I was kicking him too. He... he spread my legs and tied my ankles to the sides of the cot. It hurt, the leather was cutting me, and I got mad. Real mad. I asked him what I’d ever done to him, and what reason did he have to treat me this way, I told him he was going to get into trouble... He started... doing it to me then and I don’t know if I struggled anymore. I was screaming but wasn’t sure it was really me screaming. The music was so loud. I thought if I’m not sure who’s screaming, maybe this isn’t happening, but he kept on doing it and I knew who was screaming then... it was like all of me... my whole body... was screaming.”

Brett put a hand on her arm. “Just take your time, Shana.”

“No. I’m all right.”

Judge Flood said, “We can recess here for a few minutes—”

“No, I want to get it over with.”

“I understand your feelings, but painful as it may be, you must tell us in detail” — Judge Flood looked sharply at the gallery; whispers had started among the spectators.

Earl Thomson spoke to Davic, his words softly blurred but carrying a tone of derision.

Flood rapped his gavel. “The court will be cleared if there is any disorder in the gallery. Miss Brett, you will elicit the testimony that is required of your witness.”

“Yes, Your Honor. Shana, you have testified that the defendant, Earl Thomson, did something to you while your wrists and ankles were bound to the frame of the cot. Would you please describe his actions?”

“He got on top of me. He put his penis between my legs and forced it into my vagina. He was shouting something about women and squeezing my breasts hard. He hit me in the face when he got soft in me and fell out. His face was wet when he put his head between my legs. He licked me, between my legs, then started hitting me again. He got up and untied my hands. He went into the kitchen and filled his glass again. I hoped he’d get drunk and go to sleep. I’m not sure what I was thinking. I didn’t know why he was shouting at me and hitting me. Everything inside my head was white. I had a feeling I could write words on it if I just knew how. I was frightened, but I was sad, because I knew he was going to kill me and I started to cry because nothing made any sense.”

This time Davic did not object to Shana’s conclusions.

“I must ask you one or two more questions,” Brett said. “Then we’ll be through with this. Did the defendant tie your hands to the cot a second time?”

“Yes, he untied my feet and made me turn over. After that, he tied me up again.”

“Tied your wrists and your ankles to the frame of the cot?”

“Yes.”

“You were then lying face down on the cot, is that right, Shana?”

Shana nodded, moistened her lips. Her face had become red.

“While you were in that position,” Brett went on, “would you describe what the defendant did to you?”

“He got on top of me again—” Shana swallowed hard and looked at her hands.

Brett said, “May I lead the witness at this point, Your Honor?”

“Yes, Miss Brett.”

“Shana, did the defendant force an entry into your anus, up your anal aperture, using his erect penis for that purpose? Is that what he did?”

“Yes, Miss Brett.”

“Is there anything else?”

“I started screaming and he pushed my face against the mattress. It was hard. It hurt so. It was like something hot from a fire... then he was yelling, and then he suddenly stopped, was quiet. He stayed on top of me for a long time, just lying there. Then he moved around and put his... his penis in my mouth.”

Judge Flood pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. The pressure left white marks.

In a quiet, strangely distant voice, Shana told about leaving the farmhouse and sitting in the Porsche while Earl Thomson went into the garage. She told about his efforts to get the car out of the rutted driveway, using a shovel and shafts of wood and kindling.

When she finished, Brett turned to the bench and told Judge Flood she had no further questions.

“Mr. Davic?” Flood looked down at the defense table.

“No questions, Your Honor, not at this time.”

Earl Thomson muttered, “What bullshit, what bullshit...”

Davic stood and said in an overriding voice, “Considering the painful nature of Miss Selby’s testimony, I won’t add to her ordeal at this point. But the Defense reserves the right to cross-examine.”

Brett helped Shana down from the witness stand and led her to the People’s table.

His daughter was pale, Selby saw, her lips dry and trembling a little.

As they walked past Judge Flood and the jurors, Brett squeezed Shana’s arm and gave her a quick nod of encouragement.

When Shana was seated, Brett said, “Your Honor, the Commonwealth will call no other witnesses. The People rest, if it please the court.”

A commotion then broke out at the defense table. Attorney Royce was trying to quiet Earl Thomson. Davic gripped Thomson’s shoulders, but he knocked the lawyer’s hands away.

“I don’t give a damn,” Thomson said. “It’s a phony setup and you know it, Davic.” His face tight with anger, he stood so abruptly that he almost knocked over the defense table. Papers fell and scattered onto the floor. “It’s a goddamn lie, it’s all lies... how long do you expect me to sit here and take this—?”

Marshals moved quickly from their posts to converge on him. Judge Flood hammered his gavel and spectators stood, craning to follow the action.

Thomson shouldered Davic aside and took a step toward Brett and Shana. “Some con game... you bitches... not one word of truth in any of it...”

Selby jumped quickly over the gallery railing and put himself between Earl and his daughter. He swung his forearm against Earl’s chest, checking his momentum and holding Thomson until the marshals surrounded him and led him, struggling and cursing, from the courtroom.

For an instant Earl Thomson’s flushed face had been only inches from Selby’s, so close that he could see the sweat on Earl’s upper lip and smell his mint-scented after-shave lotion. He had felt the strength in Thomson’s hard shoulders, and the thought of that power violating Shana’s slender body made Selby devoutly wish that no officers were there to intervene...

Later, Selby helped his daughter through the crowded corridor, an arm tight around her shoulders as they passed the gauntlet of reporters and photographers and TV cameras.

A man unexpectedly joined them, a short, fat man falling into step beside Selby. His breath smelled of whiskey. “A terrible business, Harry, a terrible thing for the child, but your Shana’s a gutsy little lady, God bless her.”

It was Jay Mooney. He slipped a folded piece of paper into Selby’s hand, patted Shana’s shoulder and hurried off into the crowd lining the sidewalks.

That night Selby studied the information Jay Mooney had given him. Her name was Emma Green and she lived somewhere in or around Jefferson, New Jersey. She was black, twenty-six or twenty-seven, and once worked in a bar off-limits to the students of Rockland Military College. She had been sexually assaulted and grievously injured several years back by the then-Cadet Colonel Earl Thomson.

Captain Walter Slocum and Dom Lorso had personally prevailed upon the assault victim to drop charges against young Thomson.

Why Jay Mooney had changed his mind and decided to help him, Selby couldn’t guess... maybe because he couldn’t kill the fly sharing his pizza... futility might be as good a reason as any.

Selby called Burt Wilger at the sergeant’s apartment in East Chester and asked him if he could help him find the address of a woman named Emma Green who lived somewhere in Jefferson, New Jersey.

When he explained why he wanted it, Wilger was silent a moment, then said, “You know you can’t use it, Selby. Not in this trial.”

“I understand. Brett explained that.”

“Okay then, I’ll check out where your Emma Green is living. But it could take time. She could’ve moved anywhere by now, you know.”

The hall was dark but Shana’s door was open and her light was on. She was sleeping on her side, an arm trailing over the side of the bed. The radio was still playing.

Selby eased himself carefully into the wicker armchair at her worktable, but it creaked under his weight and she turned quickly to look at him.

“Is anything wrong, daddy?”

“No, I just wanted to look at you. I’m sorry I woke you up. Try to get back to sleep, honey.”

She turned off the radio and pushed her hair from her forehead. Then she smiled uncertainly and he knew she was puzzled, and maybe embarrassed.

“Do I look okay?” she asked him.

“You look fine, you look perfect,” he told her. “I like to look at you. It’s one of the things about being a father that’s fun. But after kids are about three or four, it’s all over. They’re always running up and down stairs, in and out of rooms, and they don’t sit still long enough anymore. If you look at them while they’re eating or watching TV, they get self-conscious and want to know if they’ve done something wrong or why you’re staring at them. I thought you were asleep so I came in to look at you, okay?”

“Sure, it’s fine. But I’m awake now. Does that spoil it?”

“No. I guess I was hoping you’d wake up. I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to tell you I’ve been sort of stupid about this whole business. I knew what happened, but I guess I never really absorbed it. I questioned you about it and asked for explanations, asked you to remember details and the times things happened, like it was... just an automobile accident, like which way you were going on your bike and what way the car was coming from. I want to tell you I felt proud of you in court today, what you were able to say, how you said it. I felt very glad we belonged to each other... But when this is over, and you go on with your life, I’d like you to try to understand that I loved you and cared about you and still didn’t understand what you’ve been through...”

“I’m going to cry,” she said, “unless you stop talking like that.”

“Okay,” he said quickly. “I won’t say another word about it, I’ll change the subject. What about this summer? What would you like to do? You tell me and we’ll try to set it up.”

“Well, I don’t want to sound like some dumb kid or a kind of nut, but I’d really like to stay home and go to summer school. Miss Calder, all the teachers, are making it easy for me now. But I know I’ve lost a lot of ground, regardless of grades.” She propped herself up on her elbow. Her face was animated. “I’d like to cram in French and take a science minor, and then...” She regarded him doubtfully. “Does it matter if it’s expensive?”

“Well, we’ll see. What is it?”

“I’ve been reading about skiing in Switzerland, daddy, a little town in the Alps where the snow’s so deep in the streets you can’t even hear the cars or anything. People have hot chocolate and wear bright sweaters and ski all day. They have bunny slopes that Davey and I could practice on. I was thinking that we get a long vacation at Christmastime and maybe we could do it then. You could teach us, couldn’t you?”

“We can sure check it out. We can start thinking about it.”

She fell asleep soon afterward, and Selby watched her for a while and then kissed her on the forehead, gently, so as not to wake her.