Liar Liar

by Nancy Boyarsky

  She ran across another statistic that was more disturbing. According to the Federal Bureau of Labor Statistics, sixty-five percent of all sexual assaults went unreported. She thought about it. If they were unreported, how could anyone come up with a percentage? Through public surveys? Maybe.

  She thought Mary Ellen’s case must be highly unusual. How likely was it that a woman would be blackmailed into making a false rape accusation? Another question was how Mary Ellen had so completely bamboozled WAR. They’d spent time drilling her on her story. She must have put on a pretty good performance to get them to take her case. By the time Nicole met her, Mary Ellen was a basket case. She never could have stood up to tough vetting like that.

  Suddenly weary, Nicole turned her chair to face her office window and stared out, watching the clogged lanes of traffic along Wilshire Boulevard. The ringing of the phone startled her, and she swung around to pick up.

  It was Sue. “He’s in custody but he hasn’t been formally charged. They’re processing him now. Once the D.A.’s office brings charges, if it does, there will be an arraignment. As I understand it, several Oceanside alums have arranged for David Sperantza of Jones, Elston & Sperantza to represent him. I know David, and they couldn’t have made a better choice. He has lots of experience and a good track record. I’ll give you his number.”

  “Wait,” Nicole said as a thought struck her. “If Doshan is charged with murder, and I’m on the witness list, will my name be made public? As soon as the tabloids see it, they’ll be after me again. I don’t know if I can take it. I know Josh can’t.”

  “The prosecution and defense must provide a list of witnesses to each other,” Sue said, “and that list is public record. There is a way to keep a name off the list under certain circumstances. You’ll have to discuss this with David. But once you testify, your name will be out there, and you will get hits from the media.”

  Sue was silent for a moment. “Now that I think about it, I don’t know if David can use your testimony. It would probably be considered hearsay, which is inadmissible.”

  “Right, I guess it would be hearsay since I didn’t actually witness anything. But I did get it directly from Mary Ellen, who was the victim,” Nicole said. “Now she’s dead and can’t speak for herself.”

  “Talk it over with David. Maybe he can figure out how to get around the hearsay rule. But, look, you don’t have to testify. There’s no legal requirement. If it’s going to cause problems, you should think it over very carefully.”

  “I have thought it over. If it would help Doshan, I want to do it. And I want to do it for Mary Ellen.”

  Nicole wrote down Sperantza’s number and, as soon as she and Sue hung up, called his office. She was transferred several times before she reached his secretary.

  “This is Michelle.” The woman was brusque, clearly annoyed. “How can I help you?”

  “My name is Nicole Graves. I’d like to speak to Mr. Sperantza, please.”

  “May I ask what this is about?”

  “I have information bearing on the Doshan Williams case, which I understand Mr. Sperantza is handling.”

  “You have to give me more than that,” the woman said. “The phone has been ringing all morning. Dozens of people want to talk to Mr. Sperantza, and they all say they have vital information.”

  “I can’t talk about it with anyone but Mr. Sperantza. Just take my name and number and tell him I have information that could significantly impact his case.”

  “Fine. What’s your number?” The woman was highly impatient, her words clipped.

  Nicole gave her name, spelled it out, then her number. As soon as she was done, the woman said “Goodbye,” and the line went dead. Nicole wondered if the secretary had actually taken her information or had simply pretended. Would the attorney even get the message? The afternoon seemed to confirm her suspicion when Sperantza failed to return her call.

  Before dinner, Nicole and Josh settled in the living room for their usual glass of wine. Josh seemed to have forgotten about their morning spat and was brimming with good cheer. He had three new clients coming in for consultations. “If I get even one of these jobs, I’ll have to hire another assistant.” All at once, he noticed her expression and stopped. “Hey,” he said, “you’re upset, aren’t you? Is it Mary Ellen, or are you still mad about what I said this morning? I’m sorry if I was too pushy—”

  “It’s not that,” she said. “Doshan Williams has been arrested for Mary Ellen’s murder. I have to tell his lawyer about her confession—if he thinks it will help, I’m going to offer to testify.”

  Josh gave her an incredulous look. “Nicole, I thought we had an understanding. You’re going to avoid anything that might attract the media’s attention.”

  “You’re right. After the fallout from Robert Blair’s murder, I said I’d try to avoid those situations. This is different. I have information no one else has. It might help prove Doshan’s innocence, which was Mary Ellen’s last wish. How can I keep it to myself? I’ve already called Doshan’s attorney, but he hasn’t gotten back to me.”

  “That’s probably because he’s getting a call from every crank in Los Angeles.”

  “Crank!” she said. “For God’s sake!”

  “That came out wrong. I’m sorry. But there are a lot of reasons why you shouldn’t, well, rush into anything.”

  “I’m not rushing into anything. I’m just going to talk to his attorney and see what he has to say. Then I’ll decide what to do.”

  “Okay,” Josh said. “Can you calm down and listen for a few minutes?”

  “Of course.” Nicole was annoyed. Why was he telling her to calm down when he was the one who was so excited? She took a deep breath and tried to hold onto her patience.

  “Mary Ellen’s decision to take back her accusation of rape doesn’t clear Doshan of murder,” Josh said. “After all, he didn’t know she was going to recant, so he still had a motive to kill her.”

  “That’s true, but—”

  He held up his hand. “I’m not done. Please, just listen. Mary Ellen was, and I’m putting this kindly, an unreliable witness. She lied to you about leaving the hotel. And either she lied in court about the rape or she lied to you in recanting it. Don’t you think the prosecutor is going use that to discredit what she told you? I’m sorry to say it, but she was a liar.”

  “But—”

  He put his finger up to silence her. “Let me finish. If you do this, you’ll be subjecting yourself to all that nasty publicity again. The tabloids will dredge up last year’s headlines when everyone’s just about forgotten them. And for what? Your testimony isn’t going to clear Doshan.”

  “Josh, really, what harm would it do for me to talk to his lawyer? If he doesn’t think my testimony would be helpful, he won’t use it. But if he thinks it might help, I have to do it. Can’t you see that?”

  “So, you’re determined to go ahead with this?

  “I am.”

  His jaw was tight, his face flushed, and he was clearly angry. Nicole was shocked. She’d never seen this side of him. They rarely argued, and never like this. If only she could make him understand.

  “I don’t think you realize how bad I feel about Mary Ellen’s death,” she said. “I should have kept a closer eye on her. That was my job. And after what she told me, I honestly believe Doshan is innocent. That means whoever killed her is still out there. Don’t you see the position I’m in? I couldn’t live with myself if the real killer got away, and an innocent man went to jail.”

  “Oh, I get it, all right,” he said. “You feel guilty, and you think that becoming a witness will make you feel better. Let me ask you this: What about this other guy, the one you think is the killer? If you’re right, then you’ll be putting yourself in danger by appearing as a witness.”

  “There are ways around that. If there’s good reason, they can leave my name off the witness list so no one will know I’m going to testify.”

  “Okay, but what happens after
you appear in court?” he said. “Or did you imagine they’ll put you on the witness stand under an assumed name, sitting behind a curtain?

  “Look,” he went on, “you say you don’t like the attention these situations generate, but you keep getting into them.” He held up a finger. “First there was that episode in England you told me about. You almost got yourself killed. Just thinking about it makes me feel sick.”

  He held up a second finger. “Next, there was the murder of the law firm’s investigator. The media went crazy with that one, and, once again, you almost got killed.”

  She stared at him, stunned by his sarcasm. And the finger counting was especially irritating. He’d never done that before.

  He went on to his third point, three fingers up. “Then there was Mary Ellen’s civil trial, which you could have avoided. Instead, you jumped right in and got into the news again.” Four fingers. “Next you drove out to Oceanside University on an errand you should have turned over to the police.”

  “Hang on,” she said. “When Veronica said she wanted to talk, I had no idea what it was about.”

  “Fine,” he said. “Lucky no one saw you there.” His fifth finger went up. “Now you plan to go public with what may be another of Mary Ellen’s lies. It probably won’t do any good, but here you are, putting yourself in the spotlight again.”

  He paused and seemed to be studying her. “These things don’t happen to other people. I’m afraid for you, and I’m beginning to think there’s something in your personality that makes you seek this stuff out, like you have some kind of martyr complex.”

  Nicole lost her patience. “Martyr complex? Last time we talked about this, you said I was an excitement junkie. Which is it?”

  Josh bowed his head slightly, as if considering what to say next. At last he looked at her. “How about this? I’ll go with you when you talk to Doshan’s lawyer. Can I at least do that?”

  She was silent. After listening to his harangue, she didn’t want him to come with her. He’d get the attorney to talk about the down side of appearing as a witness. But she already knew what the fallout might be, and this was her decision.

  “I take that for ‘no.’” Josh stood up. “Fine. See him on your own, if that’s what you want.”

  He went to the front hall closet and pulled out a jacket. “I’m not going to discuss this anymore because I’m afraid I’ll say something I’ll regret. Don’t wait up.”

  A moment later, he was gone, the door slamming behind him.

  Nine

  Nicole waited up until midnight, hoping Josh would return so they could talk things out. She was still awake an hour later when her phone dinged with a message: “Spending the night at Dirk and Denise’s. Need to think.” There was no “Love, Josh,” no sign-off at all.

  It was a jolt when morning came and she woke up alone. She started to give him a call, then reconsidered. Best let him cool off. When he thought it over, she told herself, he’d realize he was being unreasonable. The Josh she knew was kind, loving, and bore no resemblance to the stranger who used his fingers to count off her shortcomings.

  As soon as she got to her office, she put in another call to Doshan’s lawyer. This time the receptionist refused to connect her with Sperantza’s secretary or even take a message. Since Nicole had left a message the day before, the woman told her, there was no point in leaving another. Someone would get back to her.

  She was getting the runaround. The office was probably inundated with calls that no one was going to return. All at once she remembered Sue mentioning that she knew Sperantza. She called Sue and asked if she’d intervene. As always, Sue was willing to help.

  When Nicole’s phone rang a few minutes later, it was Sperantza’s secretary. She sounded rushed, but not unfriendly. “Mr. Sperantza has a busy day in court. But he can meet you for a quick lunch at City Tavern. It’s downtown on Figueroa. You want the address?”

  “I know the place,” Nicole said. “What time?”

  “12:15.”

  “I’ll be there. Thanks.”

  She looked up David Sperantza on his lawfirm’s website, on Google, and on her own firm’s database, searching for background and a photo so she’d recognize him. He was a nice-looking man with wavy brown hair and piercing blue eyes. His expression was solemn and a little grim. She found his professional affiliations. He’d served as president of the Association of Southern California Defense Counsel. He volunteered at the Loyola Law School Project for the Innocent, an affiliate of the Innocence Project. She also learned that he had a good credit rating and no liens, arrests, or convictions. He was 38, divorced, the father of three.

  Traffic was bad, and Nicole arrived at City Tavern five minutes late. The place was large and decorated in minimalist style. She was familiar with this stark design concept, which had reached the height of popularity a decade before. A bank of windows produced glare while failing to provide much light inside the restaurant. With its dark-wood paneling, wood floors, high ceiling, and lack of acoustical tiles, the place seemed designed to magnify sound. Background music, some kind of rap, was pumped up to full volume, making it hard to think. Nicole had read about marketing studies that showed people felt they were having a good time if a restaurant was noisy, even if they had to shout to make themselves heard.

  Sperantza was already there, seated at a table near a long, faux-antique bar. He seemed to recognize her and waved her over. As she reached the table, he stood. They shook hands and sat down.

  “Sorry I couldn’t do this in my office,” he said, handing her a menu. “I’m between court appearances. We’d better order. I’ve only got forty minutes.” He raised his arm to summon a waiter while Nicole gave the menu a quick look. Sperantza ordered a burger and an iced tea.

  “I’ll have the grilled veggie salad and a Coke,” she said. After the waiter was gone, Nicole told Sperantza about Mary Ellen’s decision to recant.

  When she was done, she could see that he was stunned. For a long moment, he didn’t speak, as if he was mulling over the impact of this development on the case.

  “This could be a real game changer,” he finally said. “On the other hand, there are certain aspects that are problematic. The most serious is that your testimony is hearsay.

  “I know that, but Sue thought you might find a way around it,” Nicole said. “Mary Ellen herself told me she was going to recant. She was the plaintiff in the case. Now she’s dead and can’t speak for herself.”

  “True, but in Mary Ellen’s case, it’s further complicated by the fact that she’d already testified under oath that Doshan did rape her. Say we’re able to get around that, there’s another issue,” he went on. “It’s been reported that the girl was extremely upset under cross-examination. The prosecution could say she was just looking for an excuse to get out of returning to court. And finally, as you probably realize, Doshan didn’t know she was going to recant, so he still would have had a motive.”

  “Mary Ellen said she wasn’t raped,” Nicole said. “Doshan knew he was innocent, so why would he kill her? He’d have reason to think the trial would clear him. Besides, he’d have to be monumentally stupid to murder someone when he’d be the prime suspect.”

  “True, true. Actually, this is the best news we’ve had so far,” Sperantza said. “But here’s the bad news. When Doshan was brought in, he let the police question him without a lawyer present. I can’t go into what he said, but it’s hard to tell a story the same way twice, especially when you’re being questioned by the police, who do their best to trip you up. By agreeing to talk, Doshan made things worse for himself. If you’re ever in that position, don’t say a word without a lawyer present.”

  “Good advice,” she said. “Oh, I just remembered. Before Doshan was charged, Mary Ellen’s roommate gave me a journal Mary Ellen was keeping. I turned it over to the Santa Monica police. The journal stops about a month before the alleged rape, so it may not help, but I thought you’d want to take a look at it.”

  Speran
tza pulled a notebook out of his jacket and wrote in it. “I’ll get my hands on it. Even if it doesn’t have anything pertaining to the rape charge, it might provide us with the names of people we can talk to.”

  “About Doshan,” Nicole said. “I really do believe he’s innocent, and I want to testify if it might help.”

  “It just might. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your coming forward. It gives us more to work with.” Just then the busboy arrived with their food. Sperantza glanced at his watch, doused his burger with a good amount of ketchup, and took a bite.

  “If I testify,” Nicole said, “I’d like a favor.”

  “What’s that?” he said.

  “I want my name withheld from the witness list. I’m concerned about being held hostage by paparazzi and the tabloids. That happened to me before when—”

  “I know,” he said. “I followed that story in the news. It was, when? A year ago? What a nightmare!”

  “Truly.”

  “Well, as for keeping your name confidential, we can ask. But the judge has to approve it.”

  “How likely is that?”

  “Have you received any threats?” he said.

  “Actually, I have.” She took the note from her purse and handed it to him. “I meant to give this to you.” She also told him about the young man who’d been fiddling with her tires in Oceanside’s parking lot just before she discovered the note.

  Sperantza read it. “How do you suppose they knew which car was yours?”

  “A bunch of students passed my car when I first arrived. They noticed me and gave me a bit of harassment. You know, the way young men sometimes do, imagining they’re being funny. I can only guess that one of them recognized me from the news. Maybe he’s mixed up in this, or maybe he just did it for the fun of it.”