CHAPTER 6: JUSTICE
Wednesday, March 10
1:17am
Lisa woke up, wondering why she was awake. She heard a soft noise in the kitchen, and slowly got up from the couch. She looked into the kitchen, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness.
"It's all right, Lisa, it's just me," said Rey's tired voice. Lisa was barely able to make out her brother sitting at the kitchen table, head pillowed on his crossed arms.
"Nalo?"
"Yeah."
"Are you OK?"
"Yeah. Did I wake you up?"
"I don't know. How long you been here?"
"I dunno. A while. I couldn't sleep."
"Nightmare?" She came closer slowly. He shrugged, looking away from her.
"I didn't wanna wake up Deborah. Sorry if I woke you up."
She sank down next to him, not knowing what to say, then realized he was shivering. "You want me to get you a blanket or something?"
"Nah, I'm OK."
Lisa sighed.
"What?"
"I just... I wish you were little again. I could always make you feel better when we were kids. I could almost always help. I can't any more." She remembered his small face so vividly, lower lip jutting out and dark eyes glittering with anger when somebody hurt him. He had always turned to her when he was upset. There wasn't much left of the little boy he'd been; the last few years had taken care of that. Her baby brother was now a thin, tired man with eyes much too old for somebody not even forty.
"Yeah, you help. You do." He raised his head and gave her a small smile. "You've always gone above and beyond big sister duty for me, you know."
"Yeah, well, that's what Mama taught us. The older ones gotta take care of the younger ones. You woulda done the same thing for Josefina."
"Yeah, I guess so."
"You were a good big brother. Josefina looked up to you like you wouldn't believe. You were her hero."
"I wonder what she woulda been like when she grew up."
"I think she woulda been a nun." He laughed. "Seriously. You know how serious she was about church."
"Yeah, well, Jorge always said I'd end up a priest, so who knows." They chuckled together.
"Ah, you woulda made a good priest."
"I don't think the Church woulda been too tolerant of me picking up at the bars," he said lightly, but his eyes were shadowed as he looked away from her. Lisa hesitated, then put her hand on his shoulder comfortingly, expecting him to draw away as he had since he was released. To her surprise, he allowed the touch, and leaned against her with a sigh. She put her arm around his shoulders and hugged him close. They were silent for a minute, then he chuckled ruefully.
"Shit, I'm five years old again and you're hugging me 'cause I got a boo-boo. Or 'cause Pop smacked me in the head for mouthing off at him."
"You always had a big mouth. You had a real knack for getting yourself into trouble."
"Still do."
"Yeah. You took a couple decades off though. From right after Josefina's death till the first time you cheated on Deborah, that was what, twenty years of perfect behaviour. That's pretty impressive."
"Not impressive enough." She squeezed his shoulder sadly, then sighed.
"God, I wish I could make this better for you."
"I think it's gonna take more than a band-aid and a hug this time."
"Chocolate milk?"
He grinned. "Maybe." She smiled, then cleared her throat.
"Deborah says you're gonna testify."
"Yeah," he said grimly.
"How are you doing with that?"
"Eh. Good and bad. Some days I feel OK because I'm finally doing something about it... other days I wonder what the hell I'm getting into."
"I think it'll be good for you."
"Hope so. Won't be easy though." He suddenly chuckled. "You know what's funny? You know Jamie wants me to be named in a civil suit after the criminal's done?"
"Yeah."
"Can you see that? Rey Curtis, NYPD, poster boy for prisoner's rights?" Lisa met his eyes and they both cracked up.
"Yeah, OK," Lisa gasped. "That's..." she dissolved into giggles again. "I guess I hadn't thought of it that way. That is pretty ridiculous."
===
Saturday, March 13
10:08pm
"Daddy, are you high?"
"Oh now that's a question I always wanted t'hear from my children. Daddy are you high. God," Rey put an arm over his face. Serena persisted, sitting down next to him on the couch.
"Are you?"
"No, sweetie. I've just... I've had too much t'drink," he said faintly. He'd come to Lennie's house to sober up again, but half an hour later, Serena had shown up unexpectedly. And now he was getting the third degree from her. He started to sit up.
"You're drunk?"
"Yeah. Sweetheart, please go away, OK? Lennie, get 'er outta here."
"No, I wanna stay, I don't mind that you're drunk."
"I do."
"Why'd you drink so much?"
"Serena, your dad's right. You shouldn't be here. I'll call you a cab."
"Dad, I'm not leaving," she said firmly, "Lie down again, you don't look too good."
"You shouldn't see me like this, sweetheart," he said, acknowledging that she probably had a point and lying back down.
"It's OK. People drink too much sometimes. It's not a big deal," she patted his arm gently.
"Is to me," he said faintly. Jesus. Bad enough just trying to exist through the blurriness and confusion of alcohol... but trying to enunciate clearly and think straight near an eleven-year old... god, how could you be a parent when you could barely string two thoughts together coherently? How did Lennie do it?
Not real good, to hear Lennie tell it. He could certainly understand why. Better just keep quiet. If Serena would only let him.
"Did you drink 'cause you were upset?"
"I only ever drink when'm upset."
"Does it make you feel better?"
"Not for long, no."
"Then how come-"
"If you're gonna be here, can you at least jus' be quiet?"
"OK." There was a brief silence. "Daddy, are you an alcoholic?"
"Oh, there's another question I always wanted to hear from my kids," he said faintly, eyes closed.
"Are you?"
"Lennie, you field this one, OK?"
"No, he's not."
"He drinks too much."
"Not enough. Not often enough. Although I gotta tell ya, partner..."
"Yeah, I know."
"Why don't you just stay home with us when you're upset?"
"'Cause you're parta why I'm upset, sweetie. I need to get away sometimes." She looked hurt. "Serena, this isn't a good idea. I can't think straight right now, I don' wanna say stuff that's gonna hurt you. Please, if you wanna help me, please go home. Lennie, call 'er a cab, OK?" he tried to think through the alcohol haze, knew he had to say something reassuring to her. "Sweetie, I'm OK, I'll be home later. I'm not doin' anything dangerous, I just had too much to drink an' now I'm sobering up. OK? Thanks for looking out for me, but you don' need to worry. I'm OK."
Serena expression was doubtful as she grudgingly gave in. "OK."
"Jesus, what a nightmare," Rey muttered after she had left. "'Daddy are you high'. I never thought I'd hear that from my own kids."
"She's worried about you."
"Yeah, yeah. Everybody's worried about me. What a great boost t' th' ego. Makes me wanna puke."
"They care about you." Rey nodded wearily. "Did you go to the shrink?"
"Yeah."
"How's that going?"
"Ah, hell, I hate it. I know it's s'posed to be good for me, I'm giving it a go, but... I really, really hate it."
"Is it helping at all, with the nightmares?"
"Nah, too soon to tell anyway. Only gone once." He chuckled suddenly. "I was waitin' for him to say, 'Tell me about your mother', 'cause man, would I have a story for him." Lennie laughed.
"What about your priest?" Rey shook his head. "He's really leaving?" Shrug. Lennie cast about for something else to suggest.
"You know what might be good?" Rey said suddenly. "Lisa's movin' here. Yeah, she asked her company t' transfer her here, 'cause she found out one of the apartments in our building's vacant so she's renting it. Good thing her last name's not Curtis too or the landlady woulda run screaming, what with me going to jail and gettin' behind on rent all the time and Serena arrested for drugs and my mother offing herself and all that. She hasn't had a lotta luck with Curtises."
"What about your sister's husband?"
"She said it was a no-brainer: help out her brother and his family, or stay with 'er alcoholic and abusive husband."
"She finally admitted he's abusive?"
"Yeah. I asked her how come she never said so before... she said he only hit 'er about once a year, and he din' ever cheat on her, so she figured she was doing pretty good."
Lennie winced.
"Yeah. Said what with her father and both brothers runnin' around on their wives, she figured she should just be grateful. Christ. Like I needed that on my conscience too."
"Come on," Lennie said impatiently. "Your sister's problems are not your fault."
"No, but the fact that she stayed with 'im-"
"Is not your fault." Rey was silent. "Next you're gonna tell me Morelli leaving the priesthood is because of you too." Rey looked away. "What is it with you Catholics?" Lennie asked, exasperated. "The whole bunch of you. Everything good is God's will and everything bad is your fault."
Rey chuckled despite himself. "That's real tolerant, Lennie."
"I was raised Catholic, remember? Never got that whole guilt thing. I got plenty to feel bad about, for things I've actually done wrong. I don't need to take on guilt for the people around me." He shook his head in disgust and changed the subject. "Hey, you want me to turn a game on?"
"Sure. I guess'm not that drunk, the thoughta moving images doesn' make me feel sick."
"No, you look OK. Still shouldn't go home for a couple hours, but... nothing like last time."
"Yeah, I'm really sorry about that."
"Eh. Don't worry about it. At least you didn't puke on my rug." Rey smiled slightly, a bit embarrassed. "Hey, you know Briscoe's Detox is always open for business. I just hope you don't need to use it too many more times."
"Yeah, me too."
===
Sunday, March 14
3:30pm
"So it's true?" Rey asked the next day.
"Yes."
"What are you going to do after you leave, Father?"
"Neil."
"Sorry, I can't... can't call you by your first name."
"Well, it's not going to be Father much longer, so I may as well get used to it."
"Did you already hand in your resignation?"
"Yesterday. The Monsignor has to think about it."
Rey regarded Morelli for a long moment as Morelli tidied his desk. So many years he'd spent at this church, in this office. It was strange to think of Morelli no longer being part of the parish, part of the Church. "Father... Neil, you're married to the Church."
"Yes, well, so much for that."
"But this is like a divorce. You've counseled people who were on the verge of getting a divorce before-"
"It's not the same."
"The hell it's not. This is a waste. Do you want to leave?"
"No."
"Then why are you leaving?"
"You have to ask? You, of all people?"
"Because you failed me? Failed my mother?" Morelli looked down. "Why don't you ask? Ask if anybody wants you to leave. Ask me if I want you to leave." Rey stopped, frustrated, knowing he wasn't getting through. "You made mistakes. People make mistakes."
"What I did to you and your family was more than a mistake. You just don't want to see that."
"Father-"
"Neil."
"OK, Neil, you're being an idiot. You're throwing away a career - a marriage, out of misplaced guilt."
"Misplaced?"
"You didn't cause my problems! Deborah would've had MS whether you were our priest or not, my mother would've had Alzheimer's, we would've had Tania and she would've been sick... none of that was your fault! How arrogant is that, thinking you're responsible for all of it?!" Rey shook his head, remembering Lennie's words from the day before. Catholic guilt. It did get to be too much sometimes.
Morelli gazed at Rey thoughtfully, reflecting that Rey hadn't spoken to him like this in a very, very long time. They'd started out as equals. When they first met, both were confident young men, both starting out in their careers. They had become friends, and although Rey confessed to him, he was quite able to disagree with him outside the confessional.
Over the years their relationship had changed. It had started with Rey's first infidelity, then with the counseling he had done for Rey and Deborah, gotten better briefly in the months between Rey and Deborah's reconciliation and her diagnosis with MS... and then slowly gone to hell as their family was hit with one tragedy after another, as Rey did more and more things that Morelli couldn't agree with, that angered and disappointed him. For years now, Rey had spoken to him only in the most subdued, respectful tone. Usually ashamed of himself, exhausted, broken. Penitent.
And now, here he was, worse off than before but somehow able to defy him, tell him he was being an idiot. Morelli smiled slightly.
"What? What's so funny?" Rey asked, a little miffed.
"This. You - eight years ago you spoke to me like this. You haven't in a long time." Rey was slightly taken aback. "It's good to see you get your spirit back." Rey smiled a little uncertainly.
"The Monsignor doesn't want you to quit, does he?" Morelli sighed heavily. "Then don't."
"What good can I do? What good did I ever do you?"
"You really think you never helped? That all you ever did was make things worse for me?" Morelli didn't answer and Rey cleared his throat, uncomfortable with what he was about to say, but knowing he had to get through somehow.
"Look... you, you saved my life." Morelli's eyebrows went up. "I was feeling suicidal, I didn't know what to do. And I never told you, because I - I didn't wanna admit it, but... but I thought a lot about what you said. About God's forgiveness, and about how my family needed me. It made me keep trying. You didn't know you were helping, but you were."
"I made you feel guilty for not being perfect. You were doing the best you could and I added to your problems."
"No you didn't. I didn't need anybody to remind me I was screwing up, I knew that already. I did need somebody to remind me that I deserved better from myself. I didn't think I deserved anything any more." Morelli looked at him, curious. Rey cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I needed somebody to remind me that God could still forgive me, that I wasn't a lost cause. That... that God hadn't deserted me."
Morelli felt his eyes unexpectedly filling with tears.
"You did your best," Rey said gently. "And... your parishioners still need you. I still need you. You - you know I'm gonna be testifying in this damn case. And I'm not doing too good. I'm sort of up and down. I went to this PBA shrink, but... I can't talk to him. Especially when... when it has to do with how I'm having trouble not losing my faith through all of this. I can talk to you. Don't go."
Morelli gazed at him uncertainly, impatiently wiping his eyes.
"You're a good priest. If you were perfect, you'd be God. You told me that God had forgiven me, but I needed to forgive myself. It was true. And it's true for you too."
===
Wednesday, March 17
11:01pm
Rey smiled as Deborah drew him close. Kissing, caressing at the end of the day... it felt so nice... so peaceful. He knew that in part Deborah initiated it because it helped her feel like she was doing something to help him get over this whatever-it-was, but he didn't mind. Before he'd gone away, he'd reminded her that even though she didn't feel desire any more, she still needed human touch. And now she was doing the same for him.
And it was nice to touch, to just feel close again, without anything else coming from it. He knew intellectually that some day he wouldn't shy away whenever he started to feel aroused, but he didn't think about it. The nice thing about being with Deborah was that at least he didn't have to worry about her feeling sexually frustrated while he kept them platonic, even though it had been weeks.
So now here they were, kissing again, and he was starting to feel sleepy. He smiled at Deborah, cupping her cheek, a drowsy smile coming back at him, and he felt so peaceful. They had always communicated so much better physically than verbally. It was so good to have this back. She kissed him again, and ran her hand up from where it was resting on his waist to his neck. He dropped his head back, sighing happily.
"Mmm, that feels nice."
"What?"
"Whatever you're doing. I think I had a kink in my neck. Just keep your hand right there-" he moved his head a few times. "Mmm. I love you."
"Because I got rid of a kink in your neck?"
"Yeah. The fourteen years of marriage and the four kids might have something to do with it too, but mostly it's a neck thing."
She chuckled, kissed him again, caressing the back of his neck. He kissed her back, suddenly becoming still as her hand brushed against his cheek and he felt a shiver run down his spine. She stopped and started to draw back automatically, and he reached up and held her hand where it was. He closed his eyes took a deep breath, then opened them and gazed at her. He kissed her again, and she slowly moved her hand down his back, eliciting another shiver and prompting him to pull away very slightly. Their eyes met, hers questioning and his uncertain, then he kissed her again and drew closer to her.
He was feeling desire again, but it wasn't so... disgusting any more. This was OK. This had nothing to do with anything bad, this was just them. Not repulsive, not violent... just them.
She drew closer, pulling them together and feeling him starting to get aroused. He seemed OK with this, though... and she sighed happily as he shyly kissed the base of her throat, her collarbone, brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers.
"Is this OK?" she asked quietly.
"Mhm," he nodded, looking at her again. He smiled slightly, holding her hand in his. She stroked his cheek and he sighed, his pupils dilating. His breath caught for a moment, then he kissed her again, drawing his hand up to her face, then slowly down her front.
She nodded as he silently asked her permission, then slipped his hand into her nightgown and caressed her. She tilted her head back, closing her eyes, enjoying the feel of his hands as he gradually grew less hesitant, more passionate.
"Oh..." he sighed, turning aside for a moment, momentarily spooked by something and taking a few breaths to calm himself, then came back to her mouth. She felt a surge of tenderness. He had been so badly hurt by those six days. He had taken so long to just feel OK being touched. And now he was slowly, slowly claiming back their intimate life together, still skittish, but gradually growing more confident.
She wished suddenly that she had Rico Gonzalez before her for just one moment, just long enough to pull a trigger and kill him for what he had done, for the pain he had caused Rey. Firmly set aside those thoughts - this was no place to be thinking of Rico Gonzalez.
Rey kissed the side of her neck and she felt a flicker of something too. Her eyes opened wide - while it wasn't unheard of for her to experience sexual feelings, it was pretty unusual. He went to move back to her mouth and she quickly put her hand out, cursing inwardly as it shook and refused to obey her. He looked at her, questioning.
"Go back to what you were doing... that felt really nice," she said shyly, breathlessly. His eyebrows went up.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," she grinned at him. He returned to the side of her neck and she drew her breath in sharply. He chuckled, continued what he was doing, feeling a surge of passion sparked by the excitement of Deborah actually responding to him physically, not just emotionally. It probably wouldn't go anywhere or last very long, but it was still pretty powerful.
She hugged him closer, gasping in pleasure and delighted surprise. "Holy shit!" she exclaimed without thinking, and he burst out laughing. She started to giggle too, and they held each other as they shook with mirth. So much for the mood.
"Deborah!" he teased, "what a way to put the brakes on!"
She grinned a little sheepishly. "Sorry, it just felt really strange. I'm not used to feeling that way any more."
He grinned back. "Was it OK though?"
"Yeah. Just surprised me a little."
"Me too." They held each other for a while, hands wandering a bit but not really going back to what they had been doing. The mood was gone, and neither one really wanted to get it back, content with how far they'd gone and content to leave things as they were.
"Deborah?" Rey said very quietly.
"Mhm?"
"Did you ever think about the stuff I told you about, what Jason talked about in the MS and Intimacy talk?"
"You mean, the stuff about... about vibrators and all that?" she said quickly, embarrassed. He nodded. "Yeah. I... I'm OK with us just doing what we're doing. Mostly," she took a deep breath. "I - I don't know if I'd be comfortable with, you know... would, would you want us to?" she was tongue-tied. When they had first become intimate again, he'd told her that apparently many women with MS used various sexual aids to help achieve actual arousal and orgasm, but it just didn't seem like anything she wanted to pursue. She was happy with their sex life the way it was - or rather, the way it had been for those few short days before he'd gone away. The way they were working to get back to.
Except that now, seeing how he was facing his own embarrassment and fear claiming back his own sexuality, she felt like a bit of a coward.
"Would - would you want us to try that stuff?" He shrugged, just as shy as she was. Their eyes met and they gazed at each other for a moment.
"We'll see, OK?" she finally said, and he nodded. She stretched out a bit, pulled him so that he was resting his head on her shoulder, and held him close.
"Deborah, how long... how long does it usually take before, um... before people get back to how they were before?"
She shrugged helplessly. "It depends on the person, how they were before. And how severe the attack was."
"That's not much of an answer."
"Best I can give you." He nodded. "How are you feeling?"
He shrugged. "Better, I guess."
"Good." He tried to stifle a yawn and she smiled. "Let's go to sleep, OK?"
He nodded and settled himself against her shoulder, and within minutes he was sleeping peacefully.
She lay there for a little while, stroking his hair as he slept. Somehow she never thought she'd be in this position, dealing with Rey being this badly hurt, this unsure of himself. She felt like she was walking a minefield with him sometimes - the slightest misstep could spook him or set off an unpleasant reaction. And she knew it was a thousand times worse for him.
He'd always been so confident. Even in the last few years he'd done his best to not let her see his doubts or insecurities. Now he didn't seem to want to hide from her any more. He'd even woken her up once, late at night, not to talk, just to keep him company and get him through the night, keep the nightmares away. Things were going well enough between them that he was allowing her to see him at his most vulnerable, allowing her to help when she could, just be there and lend support when she couldn't. It felt like they were closer than they had been in years.
Deborah held Rey closer, closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep.
===
Wednesday, March 31
10:56am
"We did a full physical after he came in, while he was unconscious," Dr. Udall said.
"What did you find?" asked Serena Southerlyn. Jack had turned over the case against Gonzalez, Johnson and Warden Gether to her, since he couldn't try it himself, especially since he was to be one of the witnesses against the Warden.
"We found no physical evidence of sexual assault at the time - no sexual bruising, tearing or bleeding, although he had a cut on his lip. Also no semen, although since he was covered in blood, it could have been lost when we cleaned him off. There was extensive bruising all over his body, some of which was due to the attack on Saturday."
"Why did you check for sexual assault?"
"He'd cut his wrists. We generally assume that something prompts a suicide attempt. We also checked his vitals and took blood samples. There was a negligible amount of alcohol in his system, no drugs."
"Did you believe he had been sexually assaulted?"
"Yes, I did. I do."
"Why?"
"There were bruises along his torso, one in the form of a handprint, also several bruises on his hips and thighs. Several marks where somebody's nails bit into his skin. Also a bite mark on the side of his neck. Not what you'd see if the fight involved a pack of smokes. A few buttons were missing from his clothing as well, although that could have happened during the struggle at the infirmary."
"Struggle?"
"Mr. Curtis became agitated when he was brought into the infirmary. He had to be placed in five-point restraints. This is not unusual in self-harm."
"So why didn't your report say he'd been sexually assaulted?"
"Because that's all there was, the bruises, the bite and the nail marks. Nothing conclusive."
"Did anybody ask him?"
"Yes, a nurse did, and he told her he'd been sexually attacked but not raped. He was still heavily sedated at the time though. He left before he could be fully questioned."
"Do you think it's possible he was raped?"
"It's remotely possible. There was a great deal of blood on him, it could have washed off other forensic evidence such as semen. Personally I don't believe there was penetration, but Mr. Gonzalez could have ejaculated during the attack. And Mr. Curtis doesn't remember what happened terribly clearly, he was quite traumatized. It's not unusual to block out events that the mind can't deal with."
"You don't think it's likely though?"
"No, I don't. It would be somewhat unusual for a first-time sexual encounter of this type to leave no trace, no bruising or tearing. Especially with Mr. Gonzalez."
"Why is that?"
"He's been rather brutal in the past. One of his previous conquests required six stitches."
"Dr. Udall, Mr. Gonzalez alleges that they did have sexual intercourse, but that it was consensual. Is that possible?"
"If you define consent as agreeing to something because you know you're going to die otherwise, then yes, it's remotely possible. If Mr. Gonzalez was somewhat uncharacteristically careful, and used a condom, there could have been no evidence. I don't think it's terribly likely." The doctor paused and added impatiently, "Look, whether there was penetration or not doesn't actually matter. There's no way anything happened that had anything to do with consent. Gonzalez is a vicious monster, well-known for mind games. He's a-"
"Objection!"
"Stick to the facts, please, Dr. Udall," the judge reminded him.
"Fine, forget mind games. I have infirmary records describing what this man has done to other inmates. He tortures them physically and psychologically. He victimizes inmates who are young, or weak, or part of a group that doesn't have much support inside, such as former law enforcement officers like Mr. Curtis." He looked over at Gonzalez with contempt.
"I don't care what these men have done to get into prison. I'm sick and tired of seeing them come in torn up and having to sew them back up and nobody give a damn about it. And having them sold like property - the guards are supposed to protect them. You know how many of them actually give a damn about protecting them? Not a lot. They're disposable."
"Objection!"
"Dr. Udall," the judge said warningly.
"Mr. Curtis almost died. I watched him suffering for two days. He was clearly having nightmares and flashbacks and all I could do was keep putting him under. And the guards didn't give a sh- a damn. They joked about it. Even I wasn't that concerned about him because right across the aisle we had this other kid who'd been passed around among six other inmates and he was in even worse shape. I'm sick of it. Nobody deserves that. It's inhuman."
===
Tuesday, April 6
10:20am
In the last few days, two other staff from the infirmary had given testimony about Rey's admission. Jack had testified about his attempts to get Rey transferred to Segregation and the Warden's refusal to do so despite clear evidence that Rey was in danger. Bayliss, Jorgenson and Chang, three inmates from Rey's block, had testified as to the events of December 27-30, and had testified that Gonzalez had initiated all contact, using threats of gang-rape or death to coerce compliance. Bayliss had also testified that he had given Rey the idea to cut in order to get sent to the infirmary, and given Rey the knife he'd used. Chang testified that she had been present when Gonzalez paid Johnson $20 to look the other way. Jorgenson testified about what he had seen of the attack on Rey in his cell on the day he cut.
Southerlyn had had each of the three briefly tell the jury what kind of abuse they had suffered at the hands of other inmates, and talk about the guard's attitudes towards them and towards Rey; specifically the attitudes and actions of Officer Johnson, the head guard of Block H.
Now it was Rey's turn. He and Southerlyn had gone through his testimony a few times in preparation for today, so it was somewhat easier to tell it now, but it still felt raw, painful. However much he tried to distance himself, he still found himself reliving it in flashes.
Finally the factual testimony was done and Southerlyn was gently asking him about the aftermath of those days. He'd told her he wasn't willing to go into detail, and she'd agreed to only ask a few questions and back off if he felt uncomfortable.
"I've had nightmares, trouble sleeping. I startle easily. It's - it's hard to relax, I'm on edge a lot of the time. I have flashbacks - makes it hard to keep an even keel because I never really know when something's going to set me off."
"What about your relationship with your wife? Has that been affected?"
He looked at Deborah and smiled at her slightly. "We're... we're still working on it." He cleared his throat. "It's taken time to... to feel comfortable with intimacy again." He shook his head at Southerlyn slightly. That was as much as she was going to get. She nodded at him encouragingly and stepped back, ceding the floor to the defense.
===
"You're seeing a psychiatrist right now, aren't you Mr. Curtis?" asked Ernest Parra, Gonzalez's lawyer. He'd just spent the last hour grilling Rey on the facts in dispute between his version of events and Gonzalez's, as well as throwing in occasional questions about Rey's own history and character. Rey forced himself to maintain the even tone he'd kept during all of Parra's cross-examining so far.
"Yes, I am."
"Care to elaborate on that?"
"Not really."
"I'm afraid that wasn't a choice. Why are you seeing a psychiatrist?"
"Work-related stress."
"It's a little more than that, isn't it? Weren't you ordered to undergo psychiatric treatment by your supervisor, after you attacked two of your coworkers shortly after your release in January?"
"Yes."
"Weren't you also suspended?"
"Yes."
"And seeing a psychiatrist - wasn't that a condition of your going back to work?"
"Yes."
"Would you say that you have a violent temper, Mr. Curtis?"
"Sometimes."
"Like when you attacked Mr. Gonzalez-"
"I didn't attack him. I didn't even see him before he put a knife to my throat."
"That's your version of events," Parra pointed out. "Now, let's go over that day again, shall we?"
Rey suppressed a sigh. This was getting tedious. Parra kept going over the same facts, over and over again, occasionally throwing in little curve balls like this or like his own sexual history - which had been ruled admissible after all - in order to try to shake him. It felt a lot like when he was being interrogated after his arrest.
Well, he'd known this was going to happen. And he reminded himself that in theory, he wasn't on trial this time. If his testimony didn't go well, his own freedom wasn't at stake. The worst that would happen was that Gonzalez, Johnson and Gether would be found not guilty. He patiently went through the day in question with Parra again, until Parra again took an unexpected turn.
"This problem with your coworkers that resulted in your becoming violent - what was that about?"
Rey made himself stop and think for a moment. He knew the drill for cross-examinations, he'd gone through it enough times as a cop. When being cross-examined, a witness has to imagine every word they say as a point for the other side and just say as little as possible. Don't give in to the temptation to elaborate - let the other side work for any information they want.
Not that he felt any temptation to elaborate. The biggest temptation he felt right now was to get up and just get the hell out of this courtroom. But he did have to figure out how to describe what happened the day he was suspended without going into unnecessary detail.
"I lost my temper because of something one of them said."
"Something about your time in prison, wasn't it? Some rather lewd insinuations?"
"Yes."
"Hit a little too close to home, didn't they?"
"Yes."
"You don't feel too good about what you did in Sing Sing, do you?"
Rey thought for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "I don't feel very good about what happened. It was difficult to hear my assault being joked about at work."
"Your alleged assault," Parra corrected him. He paused for a moment. "You've lied on the stand before, haven't you, Mr. Curtis?" he said abruptly.
"Yes, I have," Rey said calmly, briefly meeting Jack and Jamie's eyes in the courtroom. They'd all been wondering when this was going to come up. There was a rustle from the jury.
"So why should we believe you now?"
"I was accused of murder and I took a plea. The plea required me to allocute-"
"The point is, you committed perjury once. Why should we believe anything you say?"
"Why would I lie about this? Why would I bring charges if what he says is true?" Rey asked, beginning to lose his patience and getting tired of being attacked.
"I don't presume to know what's going on in your head, Mr. Curtis," Parra said condescendingly. "I'm just pointing out that you're not the most credible witness in the world, whether you were innocent or not." He paused to gather himself before turning on Rey forcefully. "You chose to offer sexual services to Mr. Gonzalez in exchange for protection. It's hardly his fault that you couldn't live with having done that. It's hardly Mr. Johnson's fault or Mr. Gether's that they couldn't protect you from the consequences of your own actions."
"Is there a question on the horizon, Your Honour?" Southerlyn asked.
"Put yourself in the jury's place, Mr. Curtis. If you were on the jury, would you find your story credible? I mean, besides the infirmary staff's speculations, all you've really got on your side is the testimony of three cons who are probably just testifying to get a field trip out of Sing Sing for a day. Not exactly reliable. Would you be able to believe, beyond a reasonable doubt, the word of a man who's committed perjury before, who's under psychiatric care, who's known to be violent, whose sexual history isn't the most pristine, against another perfectly reasonable explanation of events? What do you think?"
Rey felt his throat closing and paused, looking down. No, he probably wouldn't. Put like that, it didn't sound believable at all. He cleared his throat and breathed deeply a few times, then put up a hand as Parra drew breath to prompt him again. "Just - just gimme a minute."
"Your Honour, could you please direct the witness to answer the question?"
"I, I will, Your Honour, I just need a second." He covered his eyes, keeping his face impassive, willing down his emotions. Not here, he thought to himself. Not on the stand. You've testified dozens of times over the years, you even testified at your own murder trial, you can do this. What happened in Sing Sing is over and done, and it was nothing like what he's described.
Jamie and Jack glanced at each other. Shit. They'd pushed him too hard, they should have known better. Come on, Rey, you can do this, Jamie thought at him, heartsick. You can do this. You've gotten through almost an hour of this. Shake it off. Don't let this shyster's filthy insinuations get to you now.
"Mr. Curtis," Parra said, impatient.
"Your Honour-" Southerlyn began quietly. The judge nodded.
"Keep your shirt on, Mr. Parra," he said dismissively. "This is not a race to the finish line. We're not in any hurry."
Breathe, Rey thought to himself. Hold yourself together. Think of Deborah, out in the courtroom, feel her steadying presence. Feel Jack and Jamie and Father Morelli's support too. You know what really happened. You did nothing to be ashamed of. Just because this jerk is saying this crap in court does not make all of it true.
And the parts that are true... well, they're true. So what. That doesn't change the fact that you're telling the truth about what happened.
"Your Honour, if the witness refuses to answer, I suggest we strike his testimony," Parra said disparagingly, trying to bully Rey into answering. Rey felt a surge of anger. The son of a bitch could clearly see, they could all clearly see, that he was just trying to keep what little dignity he had left, and here was this lawyer trying to goad him into breaking down. Slimy bastard. Abruptly he felt the threatening tears recede, cleared away by indignation at Parra's tactics.
"I'm fine, Your Honour." He cleared his throat and met Gonzalez's smirking gaze. "I think your client is a pathetic piece of garbage, is what I think. He used a knife and three friends to overpower one unarmed man, then he used the threat of gang-rape to coerce sexual favours. And he has the nerve to call that consent." He continued, still staring right at Gonzalez, his voice dripping with disdain, "And now he looks down on me because I didn't think his idea of manhood was worth dying for, and he has the gall to say it was all my idea from the beginning." His gaze flicked contemptuously over Johnson and the Warden. "And his co-defendants are pimps in uniform. Do you have any other questions?"
Deborah closed her eyes and loosened her grip on Father Morelli's hand, almost dizzy with relief. She had almost stopped breathing, watching Rey struggle to keep a hold of himself, knowing that he would never forgive himself if he gave Rico Gonzalez the satisfaction of seeing him break down. She had sent him all the love and support she could, imagining a line stretching between them as a conduit for all of her steadiness. And who knew if that had helped, if he'd somehow managed to find the inner strength to get a grip, or if it had just been Parra's clumsy attempt to bully him. Who cared.
===
Thursday, April 8
10:23 am
"It was consensual. I didn't have to put a gun to his head."
"No, of course not, you had a knife."
Gonzalez shook his head, amused at Southerlyn. He'd briefly told his own version of events, which the jury had already pretty much heard already from his lawyer, and now he was being cross-examined. And it was rather clear that he wasn't taking any of it seriously. And why should he? He stood to lose nothing.
Southerlyn had been surprised to find out that Gonzalez was going to be taking the stand at all. Something in Parra's manner when he'd informed her told her that Gonzalez was going against his lawyer's advice. She and Jack and Jamie had quickly concluded that Gonzalez was probably taking the stand as one more way to thumb his nose at all of them. He probably had no shame about what had actually happened - the only reason he was fighting the charge at all was that if he were convicted, it would make Johnson and Gether's convictions more likely. But he wasn't the most altruistic or intelligent person in the world, and Southerlyn intended to take advantage of that.
"Mr. Gonzalez?"
"Yeah, that's what he says. But hey, he's even admitted that what he did in the common room, he did of his own free will. Nobody had to force him," Gonzalez smirked at Rey, sitting in the courtroom. Rey swallowed hard but didn't look away as Deborah squeezed his arm. "And he told you when he got that bite mark. He was letting me do whatever I wanted. He lay down on that bed himself. That bitch gave it up for me no problem, of his own free will."
In the courtroom, Jamie felt her stomach churn. Rey shouldn't be hearing this vile filth. She felt a pang of guilt for putting him through this, but reminded herself that he was the one who had decided to be in the courtroom for Gonzalez's testimony.
"He claims he wasn't on the bed that long," Southerlyn pointed out.
"That's what he says, sure. Think he wants to admit to anything else?"
"So... all the bruises he had?"
"Like the doctor said, he was fighting them pretty hard in the infirmary. That's probably where he got hurt."
"The infirmary staff hit him across the face hard enough to bruise, just to get him into restraints?"
"Nah, lady, that was Johnson-" Gonzalez chuckled, and cut himself off abruptly as Johnson glared at him. Southerlyn gave Johnson a measured look, briefly wishing he had also been stupid enough to take the stand. Then she turned back to Gonzalez.
"What about what Mr. Jorgenson said he saw that day, you and your friends attacking Mr. Curtis?"
"Snapple - Mr. Jorgenson - he's got a real good imagination. Besides, his Daddy's not my biggest fan. Snapple's probably just testifying cause he's following orders from him. Same with Bayliss and Dawn. None of their Daddies is a real good frienda mine."
"And what about the nail marks the infirmary staff saw - are you saying they did that to him too?"
"So he likes it rough," Gonzalez chuckled. There was a rustle of disbelief from the jury, and Southerlyn noticed Parra's face going studiously blank. "Hey, maybe you don't like to hear that very much, but that's the way it was," Gonzalez said to the jury defiantly.
"Really," Southerlyn made her voice as skeptical as she could. "You really expect anybody to buy that? And why didn't you bring this up before?"
"I-"
"Come on. With everything that's come out about his sex life, do you honestly think that wouldn't have come up? You couldn't find one shred of that kind of evidence, could you?" Southerlyn glanced at Parra, who was nonchalantly studying his fingernails, and suppressed a smile. This was part of why she liked being a prosecutor - she didn't have to deal with clients who insisted on taking the stand and derailing their own case through their stupidity and arrogance.
"Those marks... there was a bit of a struggle between you, wasn't there?"
"Look, so things got a little rough. But that wasn't attempted rape, it was just because he was complaining, saying he changed his mind."
"When did he change his mind?"
"After the first time, when he consented."
"You wanted to have sex again and he resisted?"
"Nah, that would be attempted rape, wouldn't it?" Gonzalez smiled at her innocently. "We were just scaring him. Lettin' him know that you don't go back on a deal in Sing Sing."
"'We'? You and your friends?"
Gonzalez flushed slightly, but didn't bother to answer her.
"Why didn't you admit to that before?"
"I knew what it would sound like. I knew it would sound like what happened was what he said. But that's not what it was like. We weren't trying to mess with him, it was more like a... bar fight or something. We didn't do anything to him. And it was after he'd already had sex with consent."
"There was no physical evidence that he ever did."
"Course not. Cause it wasn't rape. It was just a transaction between a real man and a two-bit whore."
"There's absolutely no evidence other than your word that he ever offered to take part in any kind of transaction with you. Plenty of evidence that you threatened him."
"Yeah, from three other whores. They follow orders and they hang together." Southerlyn gazed at Gonzalez expressionlessly and he continued, reddening, "Yeah, you had them come in and give their sob stories. They said they're so scared of dying they fell on their backs instead - hell, they still had a choice. They coulda chosen to die."
"Like Mr. Curtis could've chosen to die too, instead of doing what you wanted him to?"
Gonzalez started to nod, then stopped. "Nah. He said somebody threatened him in the infirmary, he coulda just dealt with that like a man. He didn't need to come to me for protection. He coulda dealt with that himself."
"How? By trying to fight off somebody else, like he tried to fight off you and your friends?"
"Yeah. That was his choice."
"So you admit you did attack him, along with your friends, on the last day."
"Fine, yeah. I told you, cause he consented, then changed his mind."
"So he was beaten up when he 'changed his mind', then he almost killed himself to get away from you. That doesn't sound much like consent," Southerlyn pointed out calmly.
"Yeah? Well I'll tell you something, lady, a real man would rather die than spread his legs for another man. He didn't like to find that out about himself, that he didn't have the balls to fight back except when he panicked. He was real tough when he had a badge and a gun, but put him in my house, and he was nothing but a pussy. That's why he cut himself. Not my fault."
"Charming. The fact that you threatened his life and that he had a wife and four children to live for had nothing to do with anything. The fact that it took more courage for him to lie down on that bed, however long he was there, than it would have to just fight you from the beginning, that doesn't fit into your definition of a real man. A real man is a shining example of masculinity such as yourself. You're serving a life sentence for trying to kill your ex-girlfriend and for killing her new boyfriend, aren't you?"
"Bitch was stepping out on me." There was another rustle from the jury. "Hey, I'm no saint but I'm not a rapist," Gonzalez said smugly, daring Southerlyn to contradict him. Meeting Rey's eyes with a smirk.
Jack swallowed hard. One of the things they had discovered while preparing for this case was that Gonzalez actually had committed aggravated rape before coming to prison, but had never been convicted. The charge had been dropped at the last minute, and was thus inadmissible. So even though the bastard was arrogantly taking the stand, they couldn't even point to his record as a convicted rapist. Rey's own record had been used to damage his credibility as a witness, while Rico Gonzalez sat in the witness chair and put forth his version of events unchallenged by his own past deeds.
It had been a particularly unpleasant shock for Jack to see that the name signed on the plea was his own. He had no memory of the case or the plea - not surprising, since it had been eight years ago - but he could guess his motivation for dropping the rape charge. The sick pervert was going away for life for murder and aggravated assault anyway; what did it matter what other official charges were tacked on or dropped? He wasn't going to be able to hurt anybody any more.
Anybody except other inmates, that is.
Although maybe that hadn't been the whole story. The plea was dated a few days after Mickey Scott's execution and Claire Kincaid's death. When he'd been sleepwalking through life, and had probably dropped the ball on the job more than once. Had the plea been just business as usual, a perfectly normal deal between opposing lawyers, or the result of unclear thinking, grief and exhaustion on his part? He'd stared at his signature, realizing that he would probably never know.
Southerlyn was shaking her head in disgust. "So you expect us to believe your version of events. That he attacked you, then came to you for protection, had sex with you voluntarily, then when he resisted the second time, you got just a little rough - just to scare him, not to 'mess' with him - and then he tried to kill himself out of... what? Wounded pride?" She looked at him curiously for a moment. "Does that story make sense to you?" Gonzalez stared at her impassively.
"And all this despite testimony to the contrary from various staff and inmates - oh, I forgot, they're all just following orders from enemies of yours on the inside." She walked away from him. "Please, Mr. Gonzalez. Give us a little credit." She glanced back at him as she sat down. "I'm done with this witness."
===
"Got a beard now, huh baby? You know I don't like stubble."
Rey turned around from the drinking fountain, surprised to hear Gonzalez's voice. Gonzalez stood shackled between two guards, ready to be transported back to Riker's for the night.
"So you feel like a big man now, telling everybody what happened?"
"Did you feel like a big man having three of your friends holding me down?" Rey asked him quietly.
"They didn't have to hold you down every time, did they?" Gonzalez smirked. "I scared the hell outta you. You were shaking like a leaf."
"Yeah, you did. You scared the hell outta me and I've had nightmares for months." He shrugged. "I'll get over it."
"That your wife over there? The gimp?" Rey glanced over at where Deborah waited with Jack and Jamie, their faces registering alarm and Jack starting towards him. Rey made a gesture at Jack, indicating he was OK. "So, baby... your wife know what you're having nightmares about?"
"Yeah, she does. She's the one who usually wakes me up," Rey smiled at Deborah slightly before turning back to Gonzalez. "Who wakes you up from your nightmares, Rico?"
"Fuck you," Gonzalez said, his face growing dark. Rey's dismissive gazed flicked over him.
"Nice suit," he remarked and walked away, smiling reassuringly at Deborah and giving her a quick kiss before taking them both out of the courthouse.
===
Friday, April 9
11:02am
"What you're being asked to do here today is figure out the truth between two versions of events between December 27 and December 30. Mr. Curtis would have you believe that he was threatened with severe bodily harm or death by Mr. Gonzalez if he did not cooperate, and that when he was unable to continue to cooperate, he was viciously attacked and almost gang-raped. He would have you believe that he risked his life and cut his own wrists in order to get sent to the infirmary, because the authorities who were supposed to protect him had refused to take him out of harm's way, and indeed, had contributed to the danger he was in." Parra approached the jury box, looking at each of the jurors in turn.
"To prove this theory of events, the prosecution has presented the testimony of three inmates, the speculation of hospital staff who were not actually present at any of the events described, and the word of the alleged victim, Mr. Curtis." Parra paused and gathered himself.
"Well. Three criminals? Inmates Bayliss and Jorgenson are a convicted murderer and drug dealer, respectively. Miz Chang is a transvestite, a habitual thief, and a drug dealer. Very reliable," he dismissed them sarcastically.
"And we all know how reliable Mr. Curtis' word is. He's admitted to committing perjury before. The prosecution has made a big deal out of the fact that he was innocent of the charge that he was serving time for, but let's please not forget that he walked into that prison himself, on the strength of his own perjured testimony." He turned and looked at Gonzalez.
"The defendants present a rather more believable picture of events. Mr. Gonzalez, it's true, is no angel. Not only is he in for murder, but we all know that his actions last December weren't exactly ethical. In a perfect world, he would not have taken advantage of Mr. Curtis' fear for his own safety by accepting the deal that was offered. But let's not kid ourselves. This kind of thing happens in prisons all the time, and a man like Mr. Gonzalez can hardly be blamed for seeing that he stood to gain something from it. Simply put, there was an exchange of sex for protection, much like sex for money or sex for drugs. We may convict people of availing themselves of the services of prostitutes, but it can hardly be called rape."
He turned to the jury and cautioned, "Not that we're judging what Mr. Curtis did, or calling it prostitution, per se. In the situation he found himself in, fearing for his life, what he did was what anybody might do. But we also can't call what happened to him a sexual assault. And we certainly can't blame Mr. Gonzalez for how Mr. Curtis felt about his own actions afterwards."
He spared a glance at Johnson and Gether. "And as for Officer Johnson and Warden Gether... there is not one shred of real evidence that they acted in anything other than accordance with their duties. For Officer Johnson there's some dubious testimony from inmates who are unhappy with their social status in Sing Sing, and unfounded speculation from infirmary staff who, as we pointed out before, were not there for the actual events in question. For Warden Gether, we have Mr. McCoy's testimony that Warden Gether refused to bend the rules for his friend. Well, since when do we convict people for not bending the rules?"
"Since when do we call a john a rapist? Since when do we convict officers of the law on the word of disgruntled felons? Since when do we prosecute government officials for simply doing their jobs?" Parra finished, gazed at the jury for a moment, then sat down.
Southerlyn stood before the jury and gazed at them thoughtfully before beginning her closing statement. "Rey Curtis was sold for $20. And if it wasn't for sheer luck, he would have been brutalized by four men, for $20. Or he would have bled to death trying to escape that fate. His four children would have lost their father, his widow would have ended her days in a nursing home. For less than the price of a pair of shoes." She paused, letting that sink into their minds.
"Now as it happens, Mr. Curtis hadn't done anything wrong. He had committed no crime, and his verdict was overturned two days after he landed in the infirmary with self-inflicted wounds. But that isn't the point. Don't try to dismiss this by telling yourselves that what happened to him is too bad, but it's just what happens in prison." Southerlyn began slowly pacing before the jury.
"We're not here just because Rey Curtis was injured while wrongfully incarcerated. We're here because what happened to him shouldn't happen to anybody, innocent or guilty. When we find a man or woman guilty of a crime and send them to prison, incarceration is the punishment. Rape isn't."
"We take away their liberty, we take away their choices, we take them from their families and we put them in an environment where they are watched and confined and not given much in the way of luxuries or choices about what to do or when to do it. We do this to punish them, to rehabilitate them, and to protect society from them." She stopped her slow pacing and faced the jury.
"We do not sentence them to rape or forced prostitution. That isn't what the judge hands down as a punishment."
She resumed pacing. "And the guards are there to keep the prisoners in line, keep them from escaping, and keep them from harming each other, to the best of their ability. They are not there to enforce a system of sexual slavery for profit. Guards like Philip Johnson are not supposed to pimp the men under their protection. The Warden is not supposed to put them in the line of fire in order to make a point about what happens to cops who break the law."
"We all know that men aren't sent to Sing Sing as a reward for being choirboys. But they also aren't sent to Sing Sing to provide guards with beer money with their bodies. We all know that sexual victimization is going to happen. But that doesn't mean that we should turn a blind eye to it, excuse it, institutionalize it, allow it to be standard modus operandi. Any more than we should allow any crime to flourish just because 'it's going to happen anyway'. Prison rape is a crime, and like any other crime, it needs to be dealt with. Stopped whenever possible, prosecuted whenever possible."
"Not made part of the justice system. That's not justice."