Summitt

Chapter Twenty-Nine

An expectant silence settled as Brett walked to the stand to begin her cross-examination of Dr. Leslie Clemens. The sharpened interest was understandable because it was obvious the People’s attorney was angry; a combative energy was evident in her posture, and her eyes narrowed as she studied the witness.

“Dr. Clemens, how much are you being paid for testifying in this case?”

“I can’t tell you exactly, the case isn’t over yet.”

“Then you are paid on an hourly basis?”

“Yes.”

“Plus expenses?”

“Yes.”

“How much are you paid by the hour, Dr. Clemens?”

“My fee is one hundred dollars per hour.”

“Is that for an eight-hour day?”

“That depends on circumstances. They vary from case to case. On occasion, my working day begins at breakfast, reading transcripts and so forth. Sometimes it doesn’t end until I retire—”

“What is your schedule in this particular case?”

“I’m not exactly sure. Close to full time.”

“Which means a twelve- or fourteen-hour day?”

“You’d have to check my office for those specifics.”

“You are staying at the DuPont Hotel in Wilmington, Delaware?”

“Yes, I am.”

“In a suite?”

“Yes — I need a sitting room for reading and writing, dictating notes and so forth.”

“A chauffeured limousine brings you from your hotel suite to the courtroom each morning?”

“Yes, it does, but—”

“And returns you in the evening?”

“Yes.”

“And these expenses, the hotel suite, all meals and gratuities, the chauffeured limousine — these are paid for by the attorneys who represent the accused?”

Davic stood. “I object, Your Honor. These questions are obviously designed to exaggerate the plain fact that expert witnesses are in heavy demand and are paid accordingly. There’s nothing unusual or culpable in such arrangements.”

“Your Honor,” Brett said, “I think it’s only fair that the jury be given a clear picture of these financial arrangements. Nothing in my questions has suggested that they are unusual or culpable. Those are Mr. Davic’s words.”

“Your Honor,” Davic protested, “I just denied that such payments were unusual or culpable.”

Judge Flood then said, “Since you first used those terms, Mr. Davic, the court cannot hold People’s counsel responsible for repeating them.”

“Thank you, Your Honor... Dr. Clemens, isn’t it true that while your fee is one hundred dollars an hour, you will not accept commitments at that rate unless they are computed on a weekly basis?”

“That’s generally true, I believe.” The doctor crossed his legs. “But circumstances vary, as I’ve pointed out. In any case, these matters are handled by my office...”

“I can understand the demands on your time, Doctor, but isn’t it a fact that you are being paid for a full two months for your testimony in this trial?”

“That may be true, yes... but I’m at a loss to understand your persistence. You must be aware that flexible fees and schedules are of necessity standard—”

“And you have earned on your flexible schedule — if my arithmetic is correct — only three hundred dollars in professional fees for talking directly to the plaintiff, Shana Selby, for three hours. Is that right, Doctor?”

“Your arithmetic is fine, Miss Brett. Three times one hundred is three hundred.”

“But in another phase of this flexible schedule, Dr. Clemens, you will receive close to seventy-five thousand dollars. Is that correct?”

“Yes, for many days of preparation, for additional extensive reading in recent studies in adolescent sexual psychology, for the time I need to analyze and confirm my impressions of the plaintiff, to modify those concepts, and to refine my definitions and evaluate any possible ambiguities. Yes, I’m paid extra for those contributions.”

“The suite at the DuPont Hotel at two hundred and sixty dollars per night, is that also one of the extras? All of your expenses for two months, in fact?”

Davic objected angrily. “Your Honor, this line of inquiry is trivial and irrelevant. People’s counsel knows the cost of services of expert witnesses has escalated in the last few years in just about direct proportion to the number of unmerited rape cases that have recently burdened our judiciary system, thanks in part to so much publicity from well-meaning women’s groups who—”

“Your Honor!” Brett stared at Davic. Someone in the rear of the crowded gallery began clapping. A stir of laughter, and Judge Flood sounded his gavel. “Now, Miss Brett, I think you have made your point in regard to the remuneration of the witness. Please move on.”

Brett inclined her head to the bench and turned back to the witness. “Dr. Clemens, you testified that the plaintiff, Shana Selby, was especially troubled by the death of her mother — damaged, you said — because the loss occurred just before the onset of Shana’s own sexual maturity. Are you saying that Shana was compelled to seek out a sexual experience — even if it meant being tortured and raped to get it — because her mother died?”

“I believe my testimony is quite clear and explicit on that point.”

“I disagree. I find your testimony both obscure and diffuse.”

“With all respect,” the doctor replied, “you may not have the qualifications in psychiatry or medicine to support your differing views.”

“Perhaps... Dr. Clemens, did Shana Selby tell you she wanted and needed intimate relationships after her mother’s death?”

“No... not explicitly—”

“Did she suggest that she was eager for such relationships no matter how violent or dangerous they might be?”

“Not in so many words—”

“Did Shana imply that she was compelled to find partners for violent and dangerous sexual activity?”

Dr. Clemens cleared his throat. “Not in such vivid terms.”

“Then would you please tell the court how you knew with such accuracy what this fourteen-year-old child was thinking and feeling? How, in short, you reached the conclusions you testified to?”

“My conclusions, please remember, embody a class of sexually pathological females, not necessarily one specific individual—”

“But you weren’t hired for seventy-five thousand dollars to examine a class of sexual psychopaths, were you? You were hired to examine one teenaged girl, Shana Selby, which you did, for the fee of three hundred dollars. Now I’d like to know, and I’m sure the jury wants to know, exactly what scholarly qualifications you employed to refine and localize your general observations so that they applied precisely and exactly to the plaintiff, Shana Selby. Just how did you go about that, Doctor?”

“I’m a psychiatrist. My adult life has been spent in the field. You have to understand that what isn’t said by a patient is frequently more revealing to the professional observer than those things that are said.”

“Are you telling us, Dr. Clemens, that your conclusions are based on what Shana Selby didn’t tell you?”

“The significance of inferential information is an accepted fact, and is widely used as an aid in many areas of psychiatric interpretation.”

“Then it’s true, isn’t it, that some of your conclusions are based on your own inferences — not on things that Shana Selby said to you?”

“Yes... that’s true—”

“You analyzed her silences. Is that it?”

“That is only partially it.”

“Did you also analyze Shana’s body language, Doctor? Her so-called victim-signals? Her clothing and shoes for evidence of potential collusion?”

Davic came around the table, glaring at Brett. “I object, Your Honor. This litany of questions is rhetorical and derisive. It is insulting.”

Judge Flood rapped his gavel. “Mr. Davic, there’s some validity to your objection, but I have allowed Dr. Clemens a deliberate leeway in his testimony. This is a consideration a court does well to extend to expert witnesses. We shouldn’t inhibit scholars with procedure. The doctor has, as an expert witness, made certain charges by inference against the plaintiff s emotional balance. In fairness, I will allow Miss Brett to protect the People’s interest with a correspondingly extensive and flexible inquiry.” He tapped his gavel a second time. “The People will proceed.”

After collecting her thoughts, Brett said, “Dr. Clemens, I’d like you to explain what you meant when you stated that damaged females often sublimated their sexual drives into safe areas. And then tell us how you concluded Shana had retreated into such an unrealistic sanctuary?”

“Yes, of course. The girl admitted as much to me.” The doctor’s small smile invited the jurors to share his self-assurance. “She told me she had a collection of pictures in her bedroom, virile young men, athletes, in fact, who were — it so happened — fit objects for safe fantasies because all the young heroes enshrined on her wall” — the doctor’s smile was now rueful — “all of those powerful young men were dead. Israeli athletes murdered at the Olympic Games in Germany some ten years ago.”

“You found this suspicious?”

“That’s a pejorative word. I would prefer revealing. It follows that a dead person is a safe object of idealized love — harmless and nonthreatening.”

“Did Shana tell you how old she was when she cut out those pictures?”

“She was four or five, as I understand. But the significant fact is that she has kept them all these years, don’t you see?”

“No, I don’t, Doctor. Shana’s mother was not deceased then, and Shana was not sexually mature — which are the conditions you told us typified damaged females seeking release from their guilty sexual drives by exposing themselves to sadists and rapists. How could your explanation hold water for a child of four or five?”

Dr. Clemens cleared his throat again. “You are simplifying my conclusions.”

“I’m glad to be of help, Doctor.”

“I object, Your Honor, to the sarcasm.”

“Sustained.”

“Doctor, why do you consider it significant that Shana kept the picture of those Israeli athletes all these years?”

“To me, it reveals her need for relationships that are unobtainable and therefore safe and reassuring. Those dead athletes are real to her in one very important sense. They cannot hurt her, they cannot disappoint her, they can never be the living agents to satisfy her rebellious though unconscious sexual needs—”

“Excuse me, Your Honor.” Brett returned to her People’s table and poured herself a glass of water. Her hand trembled slightly as she drank it. When she put the glass down she squeezed Shana’s arm. In a low and conversational tone, she murmured, “Shana, wipe your eyes. Don’t let them make you cry. They’re abominable, disgusting...”

“Miss Brett,” Flood said, “if you wish a conference with your client I will recess for that purpose.”

“Thank you for your consideration, Judge Flood, but I would like to complete my cross of the doctor.” Squeezing Shana’s arm a second time, Brett straightened and walked back to the witness stand.

“Dr. Clemens, you have given us a comprehensive and perhaps necessarily subjective profile of the plaintiff.” Her expression was composed, but as she paced in front of the witness, there was an edge of hostility in the precision of Brett’s movements. “I sense an absence or omission in your testimony, Doctor.” Her words were as measured as the sound of her footsteps. “In all this speculation about the victim, in this pawing over and prying into her innermost private and sensitive feelings, there has not been one word about the person who committed the crimes against her. A young girl has been tortured and raped. Tell us, Doctor, what class of perverted male indulges and delights in such atrocities? What pictures would you find on his wall? What parental influences drive him to these violent, sadistic assaults on young—?”

Davic objected, his face flushing. “Dr. Clemens is here to testify to the mental condition and emotional credibility of the plaintiff. He is here for that reason only. People’s counsel knows that—”

“Your Honor,” Brett cut in, “the defense counsel begrudges me the opportunity to examine his expert witness on the motivation of rapists as a class. I understand Mr. Davic’s concern. He has paid seventy-five thousand dollars for Dr. Clemen’s selected opinions. Naturally, he does not want to share his witness’s expertise with me.”

“Objection, Your Honor.”

“Sustained. Miss Brett, I’ve ruled that you avoid this matter of expenses.”

“But the fact is, Your Honor, those damaged young females were not alone when they were attacked and raped and savaged. They didn’t strap themselves to beds and beat themselves black and blue and bloody with their own fists. Someone else broke their teeth, burned their flesh with cigarettes and raped and sodomized them, but that class of perverted, sadistic criminal has remained anonymous in these hearings — no profiles of that class of felon has been drawn or even hinted it—”

Judge Flood sounded his gavel.

“—except for a reference by Dr. Clemens to collusion, by which I gather he means that forcible rape is somehow a deal between equally suspect participants—”

“Miss Brett!” Judge Flood brought his gavel down firmly. “That will be enough.”

Brett drew a deep breath; her face was pale; in contrast her gray eyes were almost black, shining with angry intensity. “Your Honor,” she said, “I have not meant to offend the dignity of this court or test the generous limits of your patience. But I am forced to speak out because the victim in this case has been treated as if she were a criminal, not by the court, but by the license given defense counsel by our laws. Shana’s background, her sexual capacities, even the intimate furnishings of her bedroom, all this is not only available and presumably relevant to the defense, but is also subject to clinical probings by their expert witness, Dr. Clemens, who has not spent three minutes, let alone three hours, examining the defendant sitting in this courtroom and charged with torturing and raping Shana Selby.”

Davic stood. “I insist that Your Honor put a stop to these outbursts. The function of Dr. Clemens in this trial is proscribed by statute. The doctor cannot answer any questions in regard to the defendant. If such questions are put to him, I will instruct him not to answer them.”

“But, Your Honor,” Brett said, “the doctor has referred to the literature of sexual pathology and rape, and studies of sexual disorders. Those are descriptions which embrace males and females. I have no specific questions to ask in relation to the defendant. But if a psychological portrait of rape victims as a class is admissible, then fairness suggests that a similar portrait of rapists as a class be presented to the jury.”

“I object, Your Honor.”

“Mr. Davic, I have pointed out that the People must be given a reasonable leeway in cross-examining expert witnesses.”

“I submit you are giving her more than leeway, Your Honor. I object to the court’s indulgence in this matter.”

“Overruled.”

“Exception.”

Judge Flood nodded at Davic and glanced across his steepled fingers at Brett. “Counselor, you may inquire of Dr. Clemens as to rapists as a class. But your questions must not relate, Miss Brett, even tangentially, to the defendant. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Your Honor.” Brett addressed the witness. “Dr. Clemens, does the commission or rape, in your judgment, represent primarily a need for sex or a need for violence?”

“The latter, in almost every instance. The rapist’s basic need is to physically dominate and humiliate a woman. The rapist does not want sex from a woman. It is probably the last thing he wants, because his fears and hatred of women make it impossible for him to sustain a relationship with a female that is based on pleasure or tenderness or mutual respect or confidence.”

Davic looked like he would have liked to kill his witness, whose apparently compulsive grandstanding, and was now helping the opposition.

“In your opinion, what is the underlying cause for this sort of fear and hatred?” Brett said in a respectful tone.

“Well, as with most pathological behavior, there is seldom one clearly definable explanation. That applies to other disorders, of course, such as alcoholism, obesity, depressions, recurring nightmares, psychosomatic illness, tendencies toward violence and suicide, even murder. As a rule, they erupt from not one but a mixture of chaotic impulses.”

Earl Thomson leaned across the defense table and whispered fiercely to Davic. The attorney nodded but placed a light restraining hand on Earl’s shoulder.

“Well, is there any observable priority in those various morbid functions?” Brett asked. “A litmus paper test to determine and define sexual psychopaths?”

“No, I’m afraid not, Miss Brett.”

“You spoke about the father in relation to the rape victim. What about the molding influence of the mother in the formative years of the potential rapist?”

“The mother,” Dr. Clemens began, “is of course a major influence toward emotional stability or the lack of it. If she is unable and unwilling to—”

Davic broke in. “This is too much, Your Honor. People’s counsel has ignored your injunction. Her overzealous and hectoring persistence surely demands a rebuke from the bench.”

Judge Flood said, “The court has been more than generous, Miss Brett. Mr. Davic’s point is valid. You have exceeded the limits of inquiry I outlined.” Flood made a note on his pad. “Do you have any further questions for the People?”

“If it please the court, I have one last question.”

“It will probably not please us... but go on.”

“Thank you, sir. Dr. Clemens, you mentioned the pictures of the Israeli athletes on the wall of plaintiff’s bedroom. You gave us your explanation for their presence there. But there are other pictures in that bedroom. There is a portrait of Franklin Delano Roosevelt, a picture of the late comedian Jimmy Durante, and there is a framed collection of snapshots of Shana’s nine-year-old brother, David. I ask you, Mr. Clemens, will you tell the court what these pictures reveal to you of Shana Selby’s innermost private feelings and sexual yearnings?”

“Objection, Your Honor.”

“Dr. Clemens,” Brett said, “we would value your expert judgment. And I will write my personal check for three hundred dollars for that enlightenment...”

Laughter began in the gallery. Judge Flood brought it under control by striking his gavel. When order was restored, he said, “You have managed to exceed the limits of my patience, Miss Brett. I will permit no further questions of this defense witness. Dr. Clemens, you are excused. Thank you for your cooperation.”

When Brett returned to the defense table she was lifted by Shana’s discreet smile, and even more by the solid presence of Harry Selby seated in the gallery directly behind his daughter.