Chapter 8:
When he woke up the next morning, he felt like he hadn't slept at all. He felt tired, uptight – almost sick, like he had drunken the whole night and now had a hangover. He wasn't sure what he had dreamed about, he just knew it wasn't very pleasing – whatever it had been.
He got out of bed, tapped to the bathroom and got under the shower to get rid of the feeling – to literally wash it away. He had to be at his lawyer's office in about an hour to finally tell him what had happened and he still had no clear idea, what he should tell him.
His memory was more clear now – he remembered some details of that evening with Judy, things that were said, but he still wasn't sure if he had done something wrong, if he had misread her signs, if he had done her harm. And if he didn't know, how should anyone else know, how should someone else defend him, if he himself wasn't capable of doing it. He had no answer to this question.
He let the hot pouring water do it 's pleasing job and allow him to relax at last for a minute. He knew he had to face a lot today – his lawyer, his co-workers, his partner... He hadn't even thought of informing Faith he was back home, when he got here yesterday evening. He had been to tired, to tensed, to eager to find out what had happened that night. He quickly thought about doing it now, but he was pretty sure she was still in bed. She had an eight hour shift and probably had gotten home before one in the morning. She definitely was still asleep and he didn't wanna wake her up. But there was another thought, another feeling, another memory that kept him from calling her – he was afraid. Afraid of her reaction, afraid she would just hang up on him. He remembered the expression on her face, when he had told her that he knew Judy, the disbelief and the rejection when she realized there was at last some truth in the detective's accuse. He needed her to believe him and he didn't wanna call her and face the fact that she didn't. He just couldn't.
He switched off the shower, got out of it and wrapped the towel around his hip. He walked back into the bedroom to get dressed and saw the blinking of the answering machine as he passed it by. He stopped and pressed the button to hear the notes he had received.
"You have three new notes."
The mechanic voice of the answering machine informed him. It played the first one and he could hear his mother's voice.
"Maurice, this is Ma. I need to talk to you. Would you please call me back, when you get home... Bye."
The machine beeped and played the next note, he had received shortly after the detective from vice-squad had taken him with him.
"Boscorelli, this is Lieutenant Swersky. I'm not sure vice-squad will allow you to leave at all, but if you get home, I want to see you in my office tomorrow. There's a hell of a things you gotta explain and I'm pretty curious to hear that!"
The machine beeped again and the last note was heard. "Hello, this is Manzini. I know it's early and your probably still in bed. I just called to remind you to be at my office at ten. I'll see you later, Goodbye."
The lieutenant had sounded extremely furious and he could understand that. One of his officers had been accused of a crime and been taken into custody in the middle of the working routine without him even having a chance to intervene or even find out what was going on.
His mother calling him surprised him. She normally just waited for him to visit her in the bar, if she wished to talk to him. She was a loving mother, but she knew he was grown up, so she would just leave him in peace. He believed it was probably about Mickey – he had gotten himself into some kind of trouble and now she wanted him to help. Something like this – it could wait right now. He couldn't talk to her; she would know that something was wrong the moment he would get into her sight and he couldn't tell her about this – didn't even know how.
But what bothered him the most was that Faith hadn't tried to reach him, she hadn't called him. He had expected her concerned voice to be the first he would hear, had even expected her to call more than once, but she hadn't done it. Maybe she didn't have time for it – she had been working for the whole day – maybe she didn't wanna disturb him in the middle of the night as she finally got home or maybe she wanted to call this morning or wait for him to be at work. Maybe she didn't even believe he had been released and thought he was still at vice-squad. But to his mind the easiest and most painful explanation was, that she didn't believe him. She believed the detective's accuse to be true and him to be a rapist. It was hard and he just couldn't and didn't want to believe it, but the way it looked right now – it was the truth.
He shook his head, trying to get rid of the thought and continued his way back to the bedroom. He dropped the towel on the bed, searched some clothes to wear and got dressed quickly. Glancing to the watch on his bedside, it told him it was 8:45, his lawyer's office was downtown and he didn't wanna be late – for once in his life – so he had about an hour to get there. He thought about having some breakfast, but actually he wasn't hungry. The sickness he had felt when waking up still hadn't completely vanished and he didn't wanna count on it. So he skipped breakfast, got his keys and left his dwelling.
He took the subway downtown, which took him about half an hour and got himself a coffee before he went to his lawyers office. It was about 9:40 when he arrived there, so he was too early, but surprisingly his lawyer was already awaiting him. He immediately had the feeling he had misunderstood his note on the answering machine and he was too late. He never ever had seen a lawyer waiting for his client, unless he was much too late.
"Am I late?"
"No, you're not – but I was pretty sure you would be here earlier and I didn't wanna let you wait. You wanna come in?"
Manzini pointed to his private office.
"Yeah sure."
"You want some coffee?"
"No, I just had some." His lawyer smiled, allowed him to step in first and closed the door behind him. He sat down at his desk and offered Bosco a seat.
"So, what happened down there at vice-squad yesterday. What have you done?"
"What do you know?"
"The only thing I know is that you were arrested for a crime you normally should've stayed in prison for. And as it is vice-squad, it was probably rape..."
Once again he realized that Manzini was a goddamn good lawyer. He knew what had happened and he had helped him without even asking a single question about it. He had given him the time to think about it, he had prepaid and he had trusted him not to leave the state. He owed him a lot and he at last owed him to be completely honest.
"They believe I raped a girl I met in my mother's bar."
"So, did you?"
He had known he would ask this question. It was no offence, it was just a neutral question – he also liked Manzini for this. He wasn't one of these guys, who talked and talked without ever getting to the important point and wanting money for this crap. He was precise, he got to the point and he didn't waste time with amenities. He just wanted to know what was going on and then he decided what to do next.
"No."
"What makes them believe you did it then?"
"The girl testified."
"If she testified, something must've happened? Did you have sex with her?"
"Yes, I did."
"But you didn't force her?"
"No, at least I believe I didn't. I mean how could I be misreading signals like this, with such grave consequences? But obviously one of us did – otherwise I wouldn't be here."
"Obviously yeah. You clearly remember what happened?"
"Not a hundred percent, but yes I do."
"Okay then, I want you to tell me anything you remember. I know you will have to do it again at vice-squad tomorrow and you will have to go there for identification tonight. But the more often you recall the events, the better it is. I'll stay by your side at vice-squad, and I'll intervene as soon as you say something different from your first statement you'll make here. And don't try to be polite or something – just tell me everything that happened, to the last detail you remember. Can you do this?" He hesitated for a moment. That was a big question, a big thing. He didn't want to, he just wished to leave this place, but he had to stay, had to tell him. If he wanted or not.
"Okay."
His lawyer took a dictating machine, some sheets of paper and a pencil and gave him an encouraging look.
"I'm ready. Just start at the beginning, tell me how you met her, the rest will come while talking. Don't make it too hard on yourself. Just tell me."
And Bosco did...
When he woke up the next morning, he felt like he hadn't slept at all. He felt tired, uptight – almost sick, like he had drunken the whole night and now had a hangover. He wasn't sure what he had dreamed about, he just knew it wasn't very pleasing – whatever it had been.
He got out of bed, tapped to the bathroom and got under the shower to get rid of the feeling – to literally wash it away. He had to be at his lawyer's office in about an hour to finally tell him what had happened and he still had no clear idea, what he should tell him.
His memory was more clear now – he remembered some details of that evening with Judy, things that were said, but he still wasn't sure if he had done something wrong, if he had misread her signs, if he had done her harm. And if he didn't know, how should anyone else know, how should someone else defend him, if he himself wasn't capable of doing it. He had no answer to this question.
He let the hot pouring water do it 's pleasing job and allow him to relax at last for a minute. He knew he had to face a lot today – his lawyer, his co-workers, his partner... He hadn't even thought of informing Faith he was back home, when he got here yesterday evening. He had been to tired, to tensed, to eager to find out what had happened that night. He quickly thought about doing it now, but he was pretty sure she was still in bed. She had an eight hour shift and probably had gotten home before one in the morning. She definitely was still asleep and he didn't wanna wake her up. But there was another thought, another feeling, another memory that kept him from calling her – he was afraid. Afraid of her reaction, afraid she would just hang up on him. He remembered the expression on her face, when he had told her that he knew Judy, the disbelief and the rejection when she realized there was at last some truth in the detective's accuse. He needed her to believe him and he didn't wanna call her and face the fact that she didn't. He just couldn't.
He switched off the shower, got out of it and wrapped the towel around his hip. He walked back into the bedroom to get dressed and saw the blinking of the answering machine as he passed it by. He stopped and pressed the button to hear the notes he had received.
"You have three new notes."
The mechanic voice of the answering machine informed him. It played the first one and he could hear his mother's voice.
"Maurice, this is Ma. I need to talk to you. Would you please call me back, when you get home... Bye."
The machine beeped and played the next note, he had received shortly after the detective from vice-squad had taken him with him.
"Boscorelli, this is Lieutenant Swersky. I'm not sure vice-squad will allow you to leave at all, but if you get home, I want to see you in my office tomorrow. There's a hell of a things you gotta explain and I'm pretty curious to hear that!"
The machine beeped again and the last note was heard. "Hello, this is Manzini. I know it's early and your probably still in bed. I just called to remind you to be at my office at ten. I'll see you later, Goodbye."
The lieutenant had sounded extremely furious and he could understand that. One of his officers had been accused of a crime and been taken into custody in the middle of the working routine without him even having a chance to intervene or even find out what was going on.
His mother calling him surprised him. She normally just waited for him to visit her in the bar, if she wished to talk to him. She was a loving mother, but she knew he was grown up, so she would just leave him in peace. He believed it was probably about Mickey – he had gotten himself into some kind of trouble and now she wanted him to help. Something like this – it could wait right now. He couldn't talk to her; she would know that something was wrong the moment he would get into her sight and he couldn't tell her about this – didn't even know how.
But what bothered him the most was that Faith hadn't tried to reach him, she hadn't called him. He had expected her concerned voice to be the first he would hear, had even expected her to call more than once, but she hadn't done it. Maybe she didn't have time for it – she had been working for the whole day – maybe she didn't wanna disturb him in the middle of the night as she finally got home or maybe she wanted to call this morning or wait for him to be at work. Maybe she didn't even believe he had been released and thought he was still at vice-squad. But to his mind the easiest and most painful explanation was, that she didn't believe him. She believed the detective's accuse to be true and him to be a rapist. It was hard and he just couldn't and didn't want to believe it, but the way it looked right now – it was the truth.
He shook his head, trying to get rid of the thought and continued his way back to the bedroom. He dropped the towel on the bed, searched some clothes to wear and got dressed quickly. Glancing to the watch on his bedside, it told him it was 8:45, his lawyer's office was downtown and he didn't wanna be late – for once in his life – so he had about an hour to get there. He thought about having some breakfast, but actually he wasn't hungry. The sickness he had felt when waking up still hadn't completely vanished and he didn't wanna count on it. So he skipped breakfast, got his keys and left his dwelling.
He took the subway downtown, which took him about half an hour and got himself a coffee before he went to his lawyers office. It was about 9:40 when he arrived there, so he was too early, but surprisingly his lawyer was already awaiting him. He immediately had the feeling he had misunderstood his note on the answering machine and he was too late. He never ever had seen a lawyer waiting for his client, unless he was much too late.
"Am I late?"
"No, you're not – but I was pretty sure you would be here earlier and I didn't wanna let you wait. You wanna come in?"
Manzini pointed to his private office.
"Yeah sure."
"You want some coffee?"
"No, I just had some." His lawyer smiled, allowed him to step in first and closed the door behind him. He sat down at his desk and offered Bosco a seat.
"So, what happened down there at vice-squad yesterday. What have you done?"
"What do you know?"
"The only thing I know is that you were arrested for a crime you normally should've stayed in prison for. And as it is vice-squad, it was probably rape..."
Once again he realized that Manzini was a goddamn good lawyer. He knew what had happened and he had helped him without even asking a single question about it. He had given him the time to think about it, he had prepaid and he had trusted him not to leave the state. He owed him a lot and he at last owed him to be completely honest.
"They believe I raped a girl I met in my mother's bar."
"So, did you?"
He had known he would ask this question. It was no offence, it was just a neutral question – he also liked Manzini for this. He wasn't one of these guys, who talked and talked without ever getting to the important point and wanting money for this crap. He was precise, he got to the point and he didn't waste time with amenities. He just wanted to know what was going on and then he decided what to do next.
"No."
"What makes them believe you did it then?"
"The girl testified."
"If she testified, something must've happened? Did you have sex with her?"
"Yes, I did."
"But you didn't force her?"
"No, at least I believe I didn't. I mean how could I be misreading signals like this, with such grave consequences? But obviously one of us did – otherwise I wouldn't be here."
"Obviously yeah. You clearly remember what happened?"
"Not a hundred percent, but yes I do."
"Okay then, I want you to tell me anything you remember. I know you will have to do it again at vice-squad tomorrow and you will have to go there for identification tonight. But the more often you recall the events, the better it is. I'll stay by your side at vice-squad, and I'll intervene as soon as you say something different from your first statement you'll make here. And don't try to be polite or something – just tell me everything that happened, to the last detail you remember. Can you do this?" He hesitated for a moment. That was a big question, a big thing. He didn't want to, he just wished to leave this place, but he had to stay, had to tell him. If he wanted or not.
"Okay."
His lawyer took a dictating machine, some sheets of paper and a pencil and gave him an encouraging look.
"I'm ready. Just start at the beginning, tell me how you met her, the rest will come while talking. Don't make it too hard on yourself. Just tell me."
And Bosco did...