Victim of the Defense

by Marianne Woolbert-Maxwell

  It had been two weeks since the last meeting with Lucy and Eric. Time was going by fast and she feared the trial would be upon them and they would still have nothing to back up Lucy’s story. Jack Temple had been the most promising discovery to date. Eric had talked to Bob Carlyle and Rick Montgomery, Tarkington’s other two friends that Lucy had told them about, and neither of them had anything to offer that would be helpful in the trial. Which left Jack Temple as their biggest hope. There were still some outstanding questions about Bob Udell and a few other things, but Megan didn’t have much hope that they would produce anything she could use to help Lucy.

  She pressed the call button on the steering wheel and asked the car to call Eric. The phone rang several times before he answered. “I’m driving home from the airport and thought I’d check in and see if you’ve found out anything new.” Megan turned up the speaker volume.

  “Funny you should call,” Eric said. “I was planning to get a hold of you tonight.”

  “Good news, I hope?”

  The line was quiet.

  “I have news but I’m not sure what to make of it all.” Eric cleared his throat. “I talked to someone who’s the groundskeeper at The Lakeworth. He told me that Bob Udell is at the apartments several times a week.”

  “Did you find out why?” Megan noticed that a light drizzle was beginning to fall and turned on her windshield wipers.

  “Well, I asked around and finally found a friend of a friend who knows Udell and would talk to me. It appears that Mr. Udell has a boyfriend.”

  “I thought he was married.”

  “His wife thinks they are,” Eric said with a chuckle. “Apparently Udell is having difficulty coming to grips with his sexuality and trying to hide the fact he’s gay. You know how he’s always in the media being pictured as the All American family guy.”

  “So he’s just there seeing his boyfriend and doesn’t want anyone to find out,” Megan said, feeling disappointed even though she hadn’t expected much from the Udell lead.

  “From what my friend said, that pretty much sums it up.”

  Megan wondered briefly if it would be worth subpoenaing Udell and forcing him to testify in court. But it would be worse than nothing if he got on the stand and stuck to his story that he wasn’t in front of the building that night.

  Megan let out a sigh. “What about Temple?”

  “I’ve searched for Jack Temple everywhere. I even have his social security number and can tell you when and where he got his last driver’s license. There’s not much I can’t tell you about him.”

  “Then what’s the problem? “ Megan eased the car into the exit lane.

  “He’s disappeared.”

  “How can that be, Eric? For god’s sake, he’s from a high profile family and has a big-time job. He can’t just disappear.”

  “I talked to his former neighbors, his friends, and the bartenders at places he used to frequent—you name it. Everyone says the same thing. One day he just seemed to disappear and no one has heard a word from him since. He left his job and home. Several of his friends were concerned about him and reported him as a missing person.”

  “What happened with that?”

  “The police investigated and didn’t find anything that made them think he was a missing person or a victim of foul play.”

  Megan felt her face get hot. She was so tired of taking one step forward and twenty steps back. “Is he dead?”

  The line crackled. “I checked that out also. There’s no death record for him anywhere in the U.S. The biggest brick wall I hit was his parents. I can’t locate them anywhere either. One neighbor said a cousin lived in Altoona, Pennsylvania. I contacted him and he said he didn’t know anything and hadn’t talked to Jack in years. They weren’t close at all.”

  “Eric, people just don’t disappear into thin air.” Megan tapped the steering wheel with her hand. Frustration was coursing through her.

  “I agree. But it appears Mr. Temple has.”

  CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT

  “All rise,” the court bailiff said.

  Megan looked out at the sea of faces in the galley. Reporters from all over the country were packed into the courtroom without an inch to spare. Word had gotten out that there was a final pretrial conference set for today. The purpose of the conference was to make sure everything was in place—all of the housekeeping, as Megan called the issues about to be addressed—so there would be no surprises during the trial itself.

  The prosecutor’s office had been fielding calls from national TV shows and big and small newspapers from all over the country, the entire press whipping itself and everyone else into a furor over accusations that the grandson of a conservative Supreme Court justice had raped someone. Windfield had instructed the whole prosecutor’s office not to give any interviews and to have a standard reply of no comment to any questions the press asked.

  Megan had arrived at the prosecutor’s office at around six a.m. to avoid the reporters. Even at that time there were a couple of news trucks, their huge satellite dishes poking skyward, parked in front of the county building. She managed to slip through the back door without being seen.

  Now she watched Judge Crawford walk up to the bench and take his seat. The wave of people in the galley remained standing until the judge motioned for them to be seated.

  The room fell silent.

  “We are on the record. This is the case of The People versus Craig Tarkington,” the court reporter called out, then rattled off a case number.

  Judge Crawford slowly opened a thick file, picked up a pair of half glasses, flicked them open, and perched them on his nose. For several moments he sat quietly reading.

  “Very well then,” the judge said. “I note that this matter is set for our final pretrial conference today. Trial is set to start on September 30 which is a month away. “

  Megan looked across the room at Mattingly and Tarkington. Mattingly was writing on his legal pad and Tarkington sat quietly looking down at the table. Megan thought Tarkington looked more haggard than he did the last time she saw him, not long before his arrest. Living under the pressure of the charges and a pending trial had taken a toll.

  Megan had talked to Lucy yesterday and told her that she didn’t have to be in court today. Typically, this hearing was just for the court and the attorneys. It was unusual to see the press at a hearing like this, more evidence of the level of frenzy the media had created around the trial. Mattingly had probably chosen to have Tarkington there just to play to the press, Megan thought. There was no rule that said a defendant couldn’t attend but many times they didn’t.

  “I want to make sure we’re on track with this case and are ready to go to trial. The court will not entertain any continuances of this matter short of someone having a dire emergency.” Judge Crawford looked at both Megan and Mattingly. She knew he meant every word of what he’d just said. He had a reputation of being a no nonsense judge who ran a tight ship and did not favor continuing a case. Megan had found that to be true when he presided over other trials she’d been involved with.

  “Ms. O’Reilly, has the state provided all discovery to the defense?”

  Mattingly jumped up from his seat. “No, Your Honor, she hasn’t. I believe there is a video that she has not turned over. “

  Judge Crawford looked over the top of his glasses at Megan.

  Megan stood up. “Your Honor, the video is being given to counsel today. The video in question is security footage from Mr. Tarkington’s apartment building.” Megan had brought it to Bremington Video Repair, a D.C. company that specialized in cleaning up videotape footage that was not as clear as the customer wanted. By video magic the business could sometimes make the picture clearer. Megan had just gotten the tape back two days before. She couldn’t imagine how Mattingly had found out about it but somehow he had.

  She had looked at the cleaned-up video and it appeared more likely now that the woman coming out of the building was Lucy. The footage did not determine o
ne hundred percent that it was her, but it was clear enough to show that it appeared to be a woman exiting the building. This might corroborate her story about being there and leaving but didn’t prove that Tarkington had raped her.

  “Why has this tape not been given before now, Ms. O’Reilly? My discovery order was entered a couple of months ago and there has been more than ample time to turn this over.” Judge Crawford rifled through the file and extracted a piece of paper. “I don’t see it listed on your Notice of Compliance with Discovery that you filed with the court. “

  Megan felt her stomach tighten. “Your Honor, this videotape was originally not clear enough to be useful. We had it restored as much as possible by the firm of Bremington Video Repair. We just got it back recently and. . . . “

  The judge interrupted her. “How long ago?”

  “Two days ago.” Megan could see Judge Crawford was disgruntled.

  “It took two days to turn this over? How long is it?”

  “Only a few minutes, maybe five.” Megan reached into her file and extracted a thumb drive. “I planned to give it to defense counsel today.”

  Judge Crawford motioned for her to give the thumb drive to Mattingly. “Let the record reflect that Ms. O’Reilly has given the video footage to Mr. Mattingly in open court this date.”

  The court reporter nodded.

  Mattingly took the thumb drive, held it up, and studied it.

  Megan could hear the reporters murmuring to each other.

  “And what is on this?” Mattingly asked.

  “It shows Lucy Hatfield leaving your client’s apartment building on the night of the rape.”

  Mattingly shot a glance at Megan. “Your Honor, I object to counsel stating my client raped Ms. Hatfield. There has been no jury finding that a rape occurred.”

  Megan turned and looked at the judge. “The night of the alleged rape.”

  Mattingly continued staring at the thumb drive. “Judge, depending on what this video footage shows, it may cause the defense to need more time to investigate. This should have been turned over as soon as it was discovered.” Mattingly shook his head and sat down.

  Judge Crawford rubbed his face and adjusted his glasses. “Take a look at it, Mr. Mattingly, and if there’s an issue, bring it before the court as soon as possible. “

  He looked at Megan. “Ms. O’Reilly, I see you have listed as witnesses the hospital personnel who took care of Ms. Hatfield the night of the alleged incident.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Typically the prosecutor lists expert witnesses. I don’t see that you have listed any. Is that an oversight? I assume you have the rape kit results and the individuals who conducted the testing?”

  Megan felt nauseous. Mattingly was staring a hole through her and she could feel the reporters waiting for her response.

  “Judge, as the court may be aware, the District of Columbia police department has had a situation arise where rape kits were accidentally destroyed in hundreds of cases.” She paused. “I was notified that Ms. Hatfield’s rape kit was one of those destroyed.”

  A ripple of voices erupted in the courtroom and Judge Crawford cracked his gavel. “Silence!” He glared at the sea of faces in the galley.

  “So you are not calling any experts to testify about the rape kit results.”

  “No sir. We will just be calling the doctors and hospital staff who examined Ms. Hatfield on that night. I have listed them in my discovery. Mr. Mattingly has already deposed them, some time ago.”

  Megan looked over at Mattingly. She could tell he was thrilled to learn why expert witnesses weren’t on the witness list and why the rape kit results weren’t among the discovery.

  “No other witnesses? “

  “I am also calling the security director of Mr. Tarkington’s apartment building, The Lakeworth, who can authenticate the video. I will give Mr. Mattingly the gentleman’s name and contact information today. “

  Judge Crawford turned and looked at Mattingly.

  Mattingly shot up from his chair. “Thank you, Your Honor. We have listed the prosecutor’s witnesses on our witness list and will probably add the director of security at The Lakeworth. Mr. Tarkington may also testify.” Mattingly paused and looked at the galley filled with reporters. “But as we know, the People have the burden to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that he is guilty of the charge they have lodged against him. Mr. Tarkington is innocent until proven guilty and does not have to testify.”

  Megan groaned inwardly. Already Mattingly was trying his case in the media.

  “We are ready for trial,” Mattingly said flashing a confident smile.

  “Very good, counsel. I will confirm the trial date, September 30 at 9 a.m. Court is adjourned.” Judge Crawford walked off the bench.

  Megan looked across the room at Mattingly. He was whispering something to Tarkington. She watched as he turned, looked at her, and smiled. She had no doubt he believed he would win the case.

  CHAPTER FORTY NINE

  Megan looked across the room at the jury box. Seven women and five men had been selected as jurors after two days of questioning. She felt fairly confident that the people chosen would take their jobs as jurors seriously. That’s all any lawyer could ask for. She’d learned over her years of trying cases that no one ever knew what a jury would do. She’d won cases she thought were losers and lost ones she felt were winners. Everyone who practiced law had the same experience. All a lawyer could do was present the best case they possibly could.

  Megan sat quietly as the prosecution table and cast a glance around the courtroom. The moment everyone was waiting for had arrived. The judge was on the bench, the jury had been brought in and seated. The galley was packed with reporters and members of the public.

  There was a soft murmuring of voices threading through the courtroom. Megan watched the court staff and the judge talking. No doubt taking care of some last minute details to make the trial run smoother. Tarkington, dressed in a blue suit, white shirt and dark red tie sat quietly looking down at the defense table. Mattingly was seated beside him busy arranging his file.

  She leaned back and took a deep breath. It had been a long journey. Meeting Lucy that day in the coffee shop had taken her on a different path than what she believed she was walking on. Now she was back in a world she thought she had left behind at least ten years ago, the world of criminal litigation where she was a prosecutor. She had weathered the storm of questions and criticism and her own doubts and fears about taking this case. Many people, taking their cue from Craig Tarkington’s attorney, had thought she was taking the case simply to attack the firm she had been fired from. But that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. She went over the events of the last twelve months—how she had told the public at a press conference that she had chosen to accept this case because she had been the victim of a rape herself, how she had carried the regret about not going public to accuse her rapist and how she had been motivated by that regret to champion other victims of sexual assault until she lost the Lisa Garrett trial. Her honesty had seemed to subdue the barrage of questioning by the press and public.

  She thought about how for all her and Eric’s efforts they had hit one brick wall after another: the woman in New Mexico who’d refused to talk; another possible rape victim of Tarkington’s who had been killed in a car crash; the rape kit that had been accidentally destroyed. And then there was the mystery caller. Eric had spent weeks trying to track down Jack Temple and had found nothing. Everyone Eric talked to who knew Jack said they hadn’t seen him in months and that he had just disappeared. Even his employer said he, out of the blue, gave notice and quit his job never to be heard from again. It seemed that a guy with a high profile family and a big-time job had just disappeared.

  Now trial was starting and they still had nothing on Jack Temple, although Eric was continuing the search. The only evidence they had to support Lucy’s case was a brief video from the security cameras at Tarkington’s apartment building. They could
n’t even use Lucy’s claim that she had seen Bob Udell as she ran out of the building after the rape, since it seemed likely that Udell would deny he was there and that would make Lucy look like an idiot.

  After several moments of instructing the jury on the day’s events, the court reporter announced the case, when she finished the judge looked at Megan and told the jury that she would present her opening statement first

  Megan stood and walked to the jury box. She stopped a respectful distance from the jurors and introduced herself. She then took her time outlining the prosecutor’s case, looking at all the jurors one at a time, trying to make each one feel as if she was talking to him or her personally.

  She told them how Lucy had met Craig Tarkington in a study group when she was preparing to take the bar exam and that Tarkington had hired her to tutor him because he was having difficulty and needed extra help preparing for the law school exam. Lucy had tutored him for about a month before the alleged rape happened. She described Lucy as a conscientious young woman, an upstanding citizen who was now a single mother struggling to support and care for a young daughter with a life-threatening illness, a daughter conceived on the night of the alleged rape, whose paternity had been established with Craig Tarkington being the father. She told them Lucy would testify and tell them in detail what had occurred on the night of the alleged rape.

  When she sat down she felt good. She had kept her opening statement to twenty-five minutes, long enough to give the jurors a roadmap of what was to come but not so long as to bore them. She had seen lawyers lose a jury’s attention by being too long winded.

  Megan focused her attention back in the courtroom. Mattingly was about to give his opening statement. He started in typical defense lawyer style, stressing that by law the defense has to prove absolutely nothing and the prosecutor has to prove the case beyond a reasonable doubt. He went on to tell the jury about how Craig Tarkington was a successful and well-liked member of one of D.C.’s most successful law firms and was the grandson of a beloved, highly respected Supreme Court justice. He painted Tarkington as the innocent victim of a woman who used him for her own gain.