by Allen Eskens
As a victim, she didn’t have an absolute right to see her case, but she wasn’t just another victim—she was also a prosecutor with connections on the inside. Lila paged through Gavin’s file until she found the business card of Niki Vang stapled to a report. Lila paused for only a couple of seconds before tapping out a message to Niki’s number and hitting send.
* * *
They met in the courtyard of the Government Center, a green space in the middle of downtown where people could sit and enjoy the warm August sun. Lila had no sooner claimed a bench in the shade of a tree when Niki appeared at the other end of the courtyard. Lila stood and waved her over.
“I appreciate you meeting with me, Detective Vang,” Lila said, as they took seats on the same bench.
“Please, it’s Niki.”
“Okay…Niki. The reason I asked to see you is that I need a favor. It’s kind of a gray area, so if you have any qualms about it, I want you to refuse.”
Niki considered Lila for a moment and said, “Okay.”
“An active investigation is confidential, correct?”
“That’s right.”
“As a peace officer, you have access to any active file, and you can share that information with a prosecutor.”
“Yes.”
“And technically I’m a prosecutor.”
“Is there a file you want to see?”
Lila leaned forward on the bench, lacing her fingers together, her forearms resting on her knees. “Eight years ago, I was at a party near Uptown and something happened. I was drugged and…raped.”
Her words lingered in the air for a few seconds before Niki said, “I’m sorry.”
“I reported it, but there wasn’t much I could tell the detective. I remember getting dizzy and really tired all of a sudden, but I don’t remember leaving the party. The detective handling the case, a guy named Yates, told me that people said that I was bouncing off walls, trying to walk. They thought I was being my usual drunk self.” Lila looked up at Niki. “I used to drink a lot back then.”
Niki gave Lila a smile that said No judgment and Lila continued.
“I woke up the next morning in the backseat of my car, parked out in a field. I didn’t know what happened. I didn’t understand how I got there. I was naked and confused. They did a rape kit and screened for drugs. I had GHB in my system.”
Niki leaned forward, elbows on her knees to match Lila’s posture. “I take it they never caught the guy?”
“Guys. There were two of them. They took a picture that made the rounds among my…my friends. It showed…” Lila paused to let a lump in her throat melt. “It showed me from the waist up, no clothes. My eyes were half open. I looked drunk. One guy took the picture while the other posed me. You can see his blue jeans—his knee—stuck under my ribs to prop me up.”
“That must have been…I can’t imagine.”
“It was. But that brings me to my favor. Last week, I was supposed to handle Gavin Spencer’s first appearance, but when he spoke, I froze. I couldn’t talk or breathe—almost passed out right there in court. I talked to my therapist, and he thinks that Gavin’s lisp might have triggered my reaction. It’s possible one of my attackers had a speech impediment.”
“Is it possible…that Gavin Spencer might have been your attacker?”
“I thought about that, but it doesn’t fit. Spencer kills his victims; I was left alive. He takes them to his house; my attack happened in my car. He puts their clothing back on; that didn’t happen with me. Spencer’s a lone wolf; my attackers worked as a pair. And they took a picture. Don’t serial rapists stick to their habits?”
“They do, but they also learn from mistakes.”
“There’s one more thing. I looked up Gavin’s high school graduation on the internet. It was the same night that I was attacked, and he was there taking pictures—in Indiana. Honestly, other than the use of GHB, I don’t see a connection.”
“I could follow up with his high school just in case,” Niki said. “I agree it’s unlikely, but leave no stone unturned, right? So, how do I fit into all this?”
“I want to see my case file—see if there’s anything in it that might jog my memory. I reacted to Gavin’s speech impediment. My therapist said that years ago, when I was under hypnosis, I mentioned a guy with a slur, someone I couldn’t understand because he sounded drunk. Maybe there’s something in my file that might mean something to me even if they didn’t make the connection back then.”
Niki mulled it over for a moment and said, “If the party was in Uptown, that’ll be the Fifth Precinct. I can’t imagine anyone would have a problem with you taking a peek. When do you want to go?”
Lila hadn’t expected it to be that easy. “Um, whenever you’re available.”
“How about right now?”
Chapter 30
The common room of Gavin’s jail pod held tables and chairs—all anchored to the floor—where the inmates could play games, or talk, or work on the pecking order. Gavin did his best to avoid it, having learned early in life that a speech impediment and a doughy appearance made him a target for anyone wanting to pick a fight. Knuckle-draggers hated to have their ignorance put on display, thus even the most innocuous conversation could turn deadly. So, when it came time for Gavin to write his letters, he pulled his mattress to the floor and used his bunk as a table.
Outbound mail was subject to inspection by jail staff, and Gavin knew that copies of his letters would find their way to Detective Niki Vang. It brought him joy to picture her reading each, incapable of grasping the significance of what she held in her hands.
After an hour of contemplation, Gavin put pen to paper and wrote the first of his two letters.
Dear Jack,
Keep your chin up old friend, and ignore what you’ve read about me. I did not commit the crime for which I am accused. Life has taken a sad turn for me, but I find strength in the detailed memory of our friendship. Little things like time and distance can’t erase those pictures from my mind. So many times I have thought of you and of our days together, all those years ago. All I can do now is hope that you hold those memories as close to your heart as do I. Did you ever think that our paths would cross again after so much time apart? I must admit, I never expected to be where I am. Every day I find myself stunned that I could be accused of so heinous a crime. Vicious lies are being told about me, and they cut me to my core. As I write this, they are marshalling their forces to bring a case against me based on nothing but a lie. Unafraid, I will meet their challenge, knowing that justice will prevail. Karma shall be my salvation.
Yours in confidence,
G.
Pleased with his effort, he went to work on sneaking his message past the jailers. This second step of the plan involved his next-door neighbor, Gideon Doss, whom he found sitting alone in the common area, a game of solitaire spread in front of him. Gavin took the seat across the table.
“You winning?”
Gideon didn’t look up. “Not yet.”
“Any luck calling your girl?”
Gideon had discovered that his girlfriend had gone to the hospital to visit his cousin—the man Gideon had stabbed. Too broke to buy a prepaid phone card, Gideon called her collect every day, but she refused to accept. Suspicion tormented him to the point that he cried in his cell at night.
Gideon looked up, a scowl on his face. “All I can do is yell that I love her when the operator’s askin’ if she’ll take the call. I ain’t got the money to talk to her the way I wanna.”
“Man, that sucks.”
“Got that right.”
“I can’t stand the way they rip a guy off in here—charging an arm and a leg just to call his girl.”
“No shit. I called my mom collect and they charged her ten bucks just to say hi.”
“That’s bullshit,” Gavin said, dumbing his vocabulary down to put Gideon at ease. “And your cousin’s out there free and clear, doggin’ on your girl all he wants, and ain’t nothing you can do.
You can’t even tell her how you feel.”
“Why you doin’ me that way, man? Why you fuckin’ with me—making me feel like shit? It’s bad enough I’m locked up and all.”
“I have an idea that might help you out.” Gavin nodded in the direction of his cell, then stood and walked.
Gideon hesitated, but followed Gavin. Once inside, Gavin stayed near the door to make sure that they weren’t overheard. “I feel bad about your situation, Gideon. I mean, you didn’t do nothin’ but defend your honor. Hell, folks used to expect a man to defend his honor. Now they throw you in jail for it.”
“Ain’t that the truth?”
“There ain’t much I can do to get you out of here, but I can make your stay a little better—if you let me.”
Gideon looked at Gavin with a suspicious eye. “What the hell you talkin’ ’bout?”
“I want to buy you a phone card, and put a little scratch in your commissary fund.”
“Why would you do something like that?”
“You’re a good guy, Gideon. I saw that right away. You didn’t make fun of my speech impediment or go all predator on me. I appreciate that.”
“You do talk funny, but I figure that ain’t somethin’ you got control over.”
“That’s an honorable way to look at it, Gideon.”
“Ain’t no big deal,” he said. “And I thank you for the callin’ card and stuff.”
“No problem. We have to help each other out, because no one else is going to do it. Am I right?”
“Amen to that.” Gideon held his fist up and Gavin gave him a bump.
“I do have one small problem, though,” Gavin said. “It’s not much, but I could use your help.”
“What’s that?”
“I have this friend who might be important to my case. I need to reach him, but I don’t really want the powers that be to know about it. I mean, he might help me, but then again, he might hurt my case quite a bit—if you know what I mean. I wrote him a letter.”
Gavin went to his bunk and pulled the letter from beneath the mattress. “I was hoping you might mail it for me. There’s nothin’ that’ll get you in trouble. Go ahead, read it.”
Gavin gave the letter to Gideon and waited as the man slowly read the content, a process that took far longer than it should have.
“See? It’s harmless. I just don’t want the guards to flag it as coming from me. If my prosecutor gets ahold of that guy’s name I could be in a ton of shit. All you have to do is mail it.”
“I mail this and you give me a calling card?”
“That’s the deal.”
“Hell, I’ll do it right now.”
Gavin put the letter inside an envelope and gave it to Gideon, slapping him on the back as he left the cell.
With that letter on its way, Gavin moved his mattress to the floor again and began writing the second letter—also addressed to Jack. The second letter was far more difficult to construct, and it ran two pages long. No matter how hard he tried, Gavin could not get the words and sentences to make sense, so he embraced the incoherency of it all, filling the pages with symbolized cursing and disjointed babble. When he finished, Gavin delivered the second letter to Gideon Doss, who once again acted as courier.
The day’s tasks completed, Gavin retreated to his cell to lie on his bunk and contemplate his next step. Should he write a third letter, one to set Jack on the trail of Lila Nash? No. That would be a bridge too far. He would have to handle Lila himself once they freed him.
For all of his life, Gavin had cherished his time alone, his mental journeys soothing him as though he were walking through a garden. But Lila Nash brought strife to his paradise. She had seen his face and heard his voice. She had his file, so she knew about his use of GHB. What else did she know? What had she remembered? What could she re-create from that night eight years ago?
It had been Jack who had slipped the GHB into Lila’s drink and driven her out to that bean field. Gavin had taken the picture, but it had been Jack who sent the email. Gavin had been little more than a shadow that night. If Lila were ever able to trace a path back to Gavin, it would have to go through Jack.
How could Gavin have been so stupid as to leave both a victim and an accomplice alive? He calmed himself by working through his plan to rectify those mistakes.
In a couple days, Jack would receive the letters and read them in confusion, Gavin’s words coming off as the ramblings of a lunatic. But soon, all would be made clear and Jack would know what to do.
Chapter 31
The Fifth Police Precinct reminded Lila of an elementary school, flat and long, the building blending in to the community with a quiet confidence, as might a sleeping pit bull. Niki and Lila entered together, Niki showing her badge to a woman behind a thick window. A duty officer escorted them to a conference room and then left, returning a few minutes later carrying a brown box with Lila’s name written in black marker on the front. Niki opened a binder that lay on top of the box and signed her name at the bottom of a list of people who had pulled the file over the years.
“Is there some movement in this case?” the sergeant asked.
“Nothing special, why?”
“It’s the second time in a week that I dug it out.”
Niki looked at the logbook again. “I’ll be damned.” She turned it so that Lila could read, tapping her pen on the line just above where Niki had signed.
Lila read the name. Frank Dovey. “What the…?”
Niki slid the binder back to the sergeant, and after he left, Niki said, “Why would Frank Dovey be looking into your old assault case?”
“I’m not sure. I think he holds a grudge because of the Pruitt case. But I was only a law student. Is he really that petty?”
“Yes, he is,” Niki said. “I know we’re supposed to be on the same team and all, but I can’t stand the guy. He’s a political prick, and if he’s gathering intel on you, you’d be smart to watch your back.”
“You’re preaching to the choir.”
Inside the box, Lila saw evidence bags sealed with tape. She would find her clothing from the night of the rape in those bags. She steadied her breathing and let Niki decide what to do next. Niki opened the folder that held the investigative reports. The first page was a photo of Lila, bare-breasted and groggy, the picture that had made the rounds at South High.
Nausea passed through Lila, and the further realization that Frank Dovey had seen that picture brought bile up to the back of her throat. Niki casually turned the photo facedown on the table.
“Let’s divide this up,” Niki said. “I’ll take the police reports and you go through the medicals.”
Lila opened a folder and began reading. The words the doctor used were cold and emotionless: petechiae, and laceration, and acute trauma. Other clipped phrases made Lila sound like a classroom cadaver. No observable blood or skin cells under the fingernails. Gamma-hydroxybutyric acid present. Negative presence of sperm and saliva. Swabs preserved.
Lila felt as though she were floating outside of herself, reading about some other poor girl brought to an emergency room with no memory of an attack. The doctor asked a lot of questions, but none of Lila’s answers seemed helpful. And none of them mentioned a man with a speech impediment.
“Tell me about John Aldrich,” Niki said, without looking up from a report.
Lila flushed hot with embarrassment. If Lila were being honest, she would have told Niki that John Aldrich was her best friend’s boyfriend. But Lila knew what questions would follow, so she merely said, “We went to high school together.”
“They found his semen on the backseat of your car.”
The investigator from eight years ago had also gone down that path, asking Lila if she and John had ever engaged in consensual sex. Lila’s mother had been in the room when Lila admitted having sex with John. She went on to explain that they had been intoxicated, but that tidbit didn’t stop her from feeling small and ashamed.
“We were never together,�
�� Lila told Niki. “Not like boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“And…the semen? Were you ever together that way?”
Lila looked down at the papers in front of her, the memory of what she had done stinging as sharply now as it had all those years ago. In a meek voice she answered, “We hooked up one time. I put a stop to it after that.”
“How did he feel about that?”
“I didn’t care how he felt about it.” That wasn’t an answer to Niki’s question, so Lila tried again. “He didn’t agree with the decision, but it was final.”
Niki moved on as though she hadn’t noticed Lila’s reaction. “Do you remember him being at the party that night?”
“Yeah, he made a scene. His girlfriend, Sylvie—I guess his ex-girlfriend at that point—she saw him try to kiss me. I pushed him away. Like I said, he didn’t agree with my decision.”
“One of the witnesses from the party said John grabbed you by the…buttocks. Said it looked aggressive.”
Lila pondered that for a minute. She remembered him trying to kiss her, but the grab? Now it came back to her. It had been rough and sudden, a show of ownership. How could she have forgotten that?
“I think he did,” Lila said. “Who was the witness?”
“A guy named Sean Daniels. He gave Detective Yates a picture—not of the grab, but it’s from that party.”
Niki handed Lila an eight-by-ten photo of John Aldrich holding her by the wrist, a squint of anger wrinkling his eyes. It was probably the last picture taken of her before her world changed forever. Lila was pulling away from him. She remembered that John wanted to kiss her, and she remembered that Sylvie was there.
“What about Sean Daniels,” Niki asked. “What’s his story?”
“He was in my class—kind of quirky.”
