Convictions
Indeed, John was at his desk when I walked into the squadroom. He looked at me for a long moment, as if he could not believe his eyes, and then stood to meet me, abandoning his cup of coffee. I had forgotten in these short two weeks how handsome I had always thought him, particularly when he looked at me with penitent eyes. But it was his voice I loved best, so light and gentle, ungravelled by his years or cigarettes.
"I didn't expect to see you before the trial," he said, and I hated him for making me still adore him so. I could feel Fin's eyes upon me, though they were fixed upon some book in his hand, as he listened with every fiber of his being.
"Nor I you," I replied, discretely. He was wearing the silver tie I'd given him for Hanukkah, only a few weeks ago, really, and I was glad that I was not wearing the necklace he'd given me for Christmas. He looked as if he hadn't slept in days, with his hair falling into his eyes and circles behind his tinted glasses: he looked thinner and stretched, like he hadn't been eating. I said nothing more.
"How have you been?" he asked me, keenly.
Lonely, I wanted to say, and then give him a death stare, but I knew how he would interpret that. "How the hell do you think I've been?" I said instead.
He nodded, having clearly expected nothing less. I always could match his temper. "Do you want to get some coffee and catch up?"
"Not even if I didn't have a meeting with the ADA," I said, with barbed tongue, wishing I could just fall into his arms and cry. Odi et Amo.
Right on cue, the captain came out of his office with a pretty blonde. "Miss Jones," he said across the squadroom, with as much cheer as he could muster. I turned my attention quite pointedly away from John as Cragen introduced me to her.
"Cara Jones, this is ADA Alex Cabot," he said, his eyes flickering to look at John questioningly and John backed off. "She'll be trying your case."
"Nice to meet you," she said, graciously, extending a hand. I took it, very much aware of the bandages that still covered my wrist. "I'd like to run over a few things with you before the trial begins tomorrow morning."
"You can use my office," Cragen said, gesturing us back to the room whence they had come. Alex shut the door behind us and pulled a notebook from her attaché.
"I thought Brian confessed," I said, before she could even tell me why she'd asked me to come here. "He confessed to John and Fin."
"With a gun pointed at his head. It's inadmissible in court."
"Then I want to testify." She looked shocked. "I want to tell my story."
"Testify? Miss Jones, are you sure about that?" she asked.
"Cara will be just fine," I replied, ignoring her amazement.
"The defense will also get to ask you questions if you take the stand, and they won't be nearly as nice as I am," she said. "The victim is hardly expected to testify, Cara."
"I know that, but I want my story to be on record."
She nodded, consigned to my wishes. Then she changed the subject. "Detective Benson spoke with me this morning. That's why I asked you to come down here. She said . that the attack was so brutal it caused you to miscarry a five week pregnancy."
Panic registered somewhere inside me, but I held my ground. "You're not going to use that in the trial, are you?"
"I may have to, depending on what the defense knows and where he takes it."
My resolve broke and I took her hand in pleading desperation. "Only as a last resort. I haven't been able to tell John yet."
"John?" she asked, confoundedly. Her eyes flicked to the window, where I could see him pacing the floor next to his desk, probably snapping at Fin for every breath the poor man took. That's how he deals with stress.
"He was the father," I explained. "We're not really speaking much right now."
A moment passed, in which Alex studied my face as if for confirmation of this topsy-turvy world I had just presented her with. "Okay. We're going to have to work on your testimony."
~*~*~*~
The defense attorney strode towards me, buttoning his suitcoat and giving me a crooked smile as if he could see my innermost thoughts. "And how long did you know Detective Munch before going to bed with him?"
Alex Cabot leapt to her feet, a gesture of supplication and outrage forming on her hands. "Objection!"
He smiled that creepy smile again, this time at Judge Lena Petrovsky. "Goes to state of mind, your honor."
"I'll allow it," the judge said, and I could feel my heart sink. "But get to the point quickly, counselor."
"Miss Jones, isn't it true that you slept with Detective John Munch the first night you met him?"
John was in the back of the courtroom, and I could see him quail. In that instant, I regretted thoroughly ever offering to testify - I hadn't thought of what it might mean for him.
"You honor!" I pleaded.
She sighed and nodded at me, reassuringly I thought. "Counselors, approach."
They did precisely that. "My client knew how easy Miss Jones was and had every reason to believe that the sex between them was consensual," Brian's lawyer oozed. He was nothing more than an oily bastard, I thought.
"The victim's past sexual history is not at trial here, your honor, per New York State law," Alex interjected, and I was grateful.
But he continued as if he hadn't even heard her. "If my client knew that Miss Jones went to bed with men after only one night, it would have been reasonable for him to assume that he was performing a wanted sex act.
"Reasonable?" Alex spat. "Is this really a precedent you want to set, your honor?"
"I'm afraid Miss Cabot has the right of it, counselor. Either make your case without dragging the victim's good name through the mud or surrender."
So much for the impartial judge theory. Brian's lawyer plowed on. "But your honor -"
"Whining is an activity unprofessional and unbefitting of an adult. There will be none in my courtroom. Miss Cabot, your witness."
Go Judge. My next thought, of course, was how much John would love to hear this and how sorry he would be that he wasn't here. Then I remembered that I hated John and put that thought out of my mind.
Alex turned to me with a sweet smile. Though she was a far more forceful woman that I thought I could be friends with, I liked her very much as the lawyer prosecuting my case. "How are you doing, Miss Jones?" she asked me, very gently.
"Okay," I lied. Though the judge being on my side had heartened me again, it couldn't change the fact that this was possibly the second worse day of my life.
"Could you please describe to the court the injuries you sustained during your attack?
I paused, and took a deep breath, quickly running through the list in my head. "Lacerations on my wrists from where he tied me down . some were down to the bone. I still have the scars. And, um, dislocated shoulder. Lots of bruising ."
Alex consulted her notes. I realized that my elusive answer hadn't been enough: she was about to probe where I was too sore to bear. "And you also miscarried a baby of five weeks. Is that correct?"
I saw John pale and Fin turn to look at him. The poor thing looked like he was about to be sick: it had clearly hit him even harder than I had expected. Brian too looked honestly surprised to hear that news. I wondered if it bothered him to know that he had killed my baby.
"Objection, your honor," his lawyer called. "Relevance?"
"The force and violence your client visited upon his victim were enough to cause her to miscarry!" Alex responded, wheeling around to look on that horrible little man and the one who had raped me.
Judge Petrovsky pounded her gavel. "You will address the court, Miss Cabot, or be cited for contempt."
"Of course this is relevant, your honor," she restated. "It proves that degree to which the defendant used force upon a woman in her own bed, after overpowering her and tying her down. This is a heinous crime, and the people would like to draw the court's attention to that fact."
"The state of New York does not recognize the rights of the unborn, your honor. I would like Miss Cabot's comments stricken from the record," he demanded. "In fact, I want a mistrial: this new information is overly prejudicial."
"I am perfectly aware of the laws of this state, counselor." I loved the way she refrained from even speaking his name, as if the sound of it might taint her very lips. "Clearly more so than you yourself are. This information is not being used in a murder trial, but rather a rape trial. Miss Cabot's comments are perfectly admissible, and the witness will please answer the question."
"I'm sorry. What was the question?" I asked, tears stinging the backs of my eyes, tears I knew I could not acknowledge.
"This attack caused you to miscarry, did it not?"
I bowed my head so I wouldn't have to see John in my peripheral vision. "Yes."
The trial continued, but I was barely aware of it. I got to retell my story, and Alex let me sit back down. Dr Huang talked about how I had been affected, and how he had used my story to put together a profile, and eventually John told the court - in his usual snarky way, dripping with contempt for the very system he served - how Shawn had put together the pieces and led him to arrest Brian. I only wished Shawn herself could have been there to testify, and not waiting for her own trial. In the end, I was dead sure we had won the case. As the judge adjourned for the last time before the jury went to deliberate, I took my first confident breath in weeks.
Indeed, John was at his desk when I walked into the squadroom. He looked at me for a long moment, as if he could not believe his eyes, and then stood to meet me, abandoning his cup of coffee. I had forgotten in these short two weeks how handsome I had always thought him, particularly when he looked at me with penitent eyes. But it was his voice I loved best, so light and gentle, ungravelled by his years or cigarettes.
"I didn't expect to see you before the trial," he said, and I hated him for making me still adore him so. I could feel Fin's eyes upon me, though they were fixed upon some book in his hand, as he listened with every fiber of his being.
"Nor I you," I replied, discretely. He was wearing the silver tie I'd given him for Hanukkah, only a few weeks ago, really, and I was glad that I was not wearing the necklace he'd given me for Christmas. He looked as if he hadn't slept in days, with his hair falling into his eyes and circles behind his tinted glasses: he looked thinner and stretched, like he hadn't been eating. I said nothing more.
"How have you been?" he asked me, keenly.
Lonely, I wanted to say, and then give him a death stare, but I knew how he would interpret that. "How the hell do you think I've been?" I said instead.
He nodded, having clearly expected nothing less. I always could match his temper. "Do you want to get some coffee and catch up?"
"Not even if I didn't have a meeting with the ADA," I said, with barbed tongue, wishing I could just fall into his arms and cry. Odi et Amo.
Right on cue, the captain came out of his office with a pretty blonde. "Miss Jones," he said across the squadroom, with as much cheer as he could muster. I turned my attention quite pointedly away from John as Cragen introduced me to her.
"Cara Jones, this is ADA Alex Cabot," he said, his eyes flickering to look at John questioningly and John backed off. "She'll be trying your case."
"Nice to meet you," she said, graciously, extending a hand. I took it, very much aware of the bandages that still covered my wrist. "I'd like to run over a few things with you before the trial begins tomorrow morning."
"You can use my office," Cragen said, gesturing us back to the room whence they had come. Alex shut the door behind us and pulled a notebook from her attaché.
"I thought Brian confessed," I said, before she could even tell me why she'd asked me to come here. "He confessed to John and Fin."
"With a gun pointed at his head. It's inadmissible in court."
"Then I want to testify." She looked shocked. "I want to tell my story."
"Testify? Miss Jones, are you sure about that?" she asked.
"Cara will be just fine," I replied, ignoring her amazement.
"The defense will also get to ask you questions if you take the stand, and they won't be nearly as nice as I am," she said. "The victim is hardly expected to testify, Cara."
"I know that, but I want my story to be on record."
She nodded, consigned to my wishes. Then she changed the subject. "Detective Benson spoke with me this morning. That's why I asked you to come down here. She said . that the attack was so brutal it caused you to miscarry a five week pregnancy."
Panic registered somewhere inside me, but I held my ground. "You're not going to use that in the trial, are you?"
"I may have to, depending on what the defense knows and where he takes it."
My resolve broke and I took her hand in pleading desperation. "Only as a last resort. I haven't been able to tell John yet."
"John?" she asked, confoundedly. Her eyes flicked to the window, where I could see him pacing the floor next to his desk, probably snapping at Fin for every breath the poor man took. That's how he deals with stress.
"He was the father," I explained. "We're not really speaking much right now."
A moment passed, in which Alex studied my face as if for confirmation of this topsy-turvy world I had just presented her with. "Okay. We're going to have to work on your testimony."
~*~*~*~
The defense attorney strode towards me, buttoning his suitcoat and giving me a crooked smile as if he could see my innermost thoughts. "And how long did you know Detective Munch before going to bed with him?"
Alex Cabot leapt to her feet, a gesture of supplication and outrage forming on her hands. "Objection!"
He smiled that creepy smile again, this time at Judge Lena Petrovsky. "Goes to state of mind, your honor."
"I'll allow it," the judge said, and I could feel my heart sink. "But get to the point quickly, counselor."
"Miss Jones, isn't it true that you slept with Detective John Munch the first night you met him?"
John was in the back of the courtroom, and I could see him quail. In that instant, I regretted thoroughly ever offering to testify - I hadn't thought of what it might mean for him.
"You honor!" I pleaded.
She sighed and nodded at me, reassuringly I thought. "Counselors, approach."
They did precisely that. "My client knew how easy Miss Jones was and had every reason to believe that the sex between them was consensual," Brian's lawyer oozed. He was nothing more than an oily bastard, I thought.
"The victim's past sexual history is not at trial here, your honor, per New York State law," Alex interjected, and I was grateful.
But he continued as if he hadn't even heard her. "If my client knew that Miss Jones went to bed with men after only one night, it would have been reasonable for him to assume that he was performing a wanted sex act.
"Reasonable?" Alex spat. "Is this really a precedent you want to set, your honor?"
"I'm afraid Miss Cabot has the right of it, counselor. Either make your case without dragging the victim's good name through the mud or surrender."
So much for the impartial judge theory. Brian's lawyer plowed on. "But your honor -"
"Whining is an activity unprofessional and unbefitting of an adult. There will be none in my courtroom. Miss Cabot, your witness."
Go Judge. My next thought, of course, was how much John would love to hear this and how sorry he would be that he wasn't here. Then I remembered that I hated John and put that thought out of my mind.
Alex turned to me with a sweet smile. Though she was a far more forceful woman that I thought I could be friends with, I liked her very much as the lawyer prosecuting my case. "How are you doing, Miss Jones?" she asked me, very gently.
"Okay," I lied. Though the judge being on my side had heartened me again, it couldn't change the fact that this was possibly the second worse day of my life.
"Could you please describe to the court the injuries you sustained during your attack?
I paused, and took a deep breath, quickly running through the list in my head. "Lacerations on my wrists from where he tied me down . some were down to the bone. I still have the scars. And, um, dislocated shoulder. Lots of bruising ."
Alex consulted her notes. I realized that my elusive answer hadn't been enough: she was about to probe where I was too sore to bear. "And you also miscarried a baby of five weeks. Is that correct?"
I saw John pale and Fin turn to look at him. The poor thing looked like he was about to be sick: it had clearly hit him even harder than I had expected. Brian too looked honestly surprised to hear that news. I wondered if it bothered him to know that he had killed my baby.
"Objection, your honor," his lawyer called. "Relevance?"
"The force and violence your client visited upon his victim were enough to cause her to miscarry!" Alex responded, wheeling around to look on that horrible little man and the one who had raped me.
Judge Petrovsky pounded her gavel. "You will address the court, Miss Cabot, or be cited for contempt."
"Of course this is relevant, your honor," she restated. "It proves that degree to which the defendant used force upon a woman in her own bed, after overpowering her and tying her down. This is a heinous crime, and the people would like to draw the court's attention to that fact."
"The state of New York does not recognize the rights of the unborn, your honor. I would like Miss Cabot's comments stricken from the record," he demanded. "In fact, I want a mistrial: this new information is overly prejudicial."
"I am perfectly aware of the laws of this state, counselor." I loved the way she refrained from even speaking his name, as if the sound of it might taint her very lips. "Clearly more so than you yourself are. This information is not being used in a murder trial, but rather a rape trial. Miss Cabot's comments are perfectly admissible, and the witness will please answer the question."
"I'm sorry. What was the question?" I asked, tears stinging the backs of my eyes, tears I knew I could not acknowledge.
"This attack caused you to miscarry, did it not?"
I bowed my head so I wouldn't have to see John in my peripheral vision. "Yes."
The trial continued, but I was barely aware of it. I got to retell my story, and Alex let me sit back down. Dr Huang talked about how I had been affected, and how he had used my story to put together a profile, and eventually John told the court - in his usual snarky way, dripping with contempt for the very system he served - how Shawn had put together the pieces and led him to arrest Brian. I only wished Shawn herself could have been there to testify, and not waiting for her own trial. In the end, I was dead sure we had won the case. As the judge adjourned for the last time before the jury went to deliberate, I took my first confident breath in weeks.