Lucky

  "They are not in the picture, no," I said. "That is because the picture doesn't show the whole area."

  All of what wasn't said in every move of his--his insinuations, what he implied--I tried to answer by being as clear and controlled as possible.

  Quickly, he pushed forward another photo. "This is exhibit number five, do you recognize that?"

  "Yes, I do."

  "That is the area where you were assaulted; is that right?"

  "Yes, it is."

  "Is there any lighting in that picture, any artificial lights?"

  "No. I do not see any lighting and you could see the place, and you--there must be some light."

  "The question is," he said, pressing in, "do you see any artificial lighting? Of course there are police lights flashing into the picture."

  "I see no artificial lights," I said, "and it is only a picture of the stone, and there can't be lights in the stone," I said, looking up at him and at the rest of the court.

  "That probably would be true." His lips curled. "About how much time would you say that you spent in that area?"

  "I would say about an hour."

  "About an hour?"

  "A little bit more."

  "I am sorry?" He cocked his hand to his ear.

  "I said an hour or a little bit more."

  "An hour or a little bit more? How much time did you spend on the pathway that led up to the area we are talking about in exhibit number five?"

  "On the pathway about two minutes. Right outside the cave about fifteen minutes." I wanted to get it right.

  "All right. So you were on the pathway for about two minutes?"

  "Right."

  "The area outside of the cave, as depicted in exhibit five, for about fifteen minutes?"

  "Yes."

  "The area actually in the cave for about a little over an hour?"

  "Right."

  I was exhausted, felt as if I was being dragged here and there. The course of this man's logic was beyond me, and it was meant to be.

  "Now, you saw this person on one other occasion, I think, and on that evening? I believe that you testified that that was as he was walking down the path?"

  "Yes."

  "And that was about how far from you?"

  "That was about a hundred and fifty feet from me."

  "About a hundred and fifty feet?"

  Hearing my words back was maddening. He wanted me to falter.

  "Yes."

  "About fifty yards? Is that fair? About half a football field?"

  "I would say," I said, "a hundred and fifty feet."

  I sunk a nail in, but he pulled it out.

  "Your glasses weren't on then, were they?"

  "No, they were not."

  "When did you lose those glasses?"

  "During the time--" But he didn't like where I might be going, so he phrased my answer for me.

  "During the fight on the path, right?"

  "Yes."

  "So within the first two minutes of this altercation you lost your glasses?"

  I remembered my own time breakdown.

  "During the fight which was off the side of the pathway."

  So did he.

  "So you were two minutes on the path and then fifteen minutes outside the gate, and it was during this fifteen-minute period that your glasses came off?"

  "Yes, it was."

  "Now, did you fight on the path, or did he sort of spirit you over to the area in front of the gate?"

  His choice of words, "spirit you over," and his gesture, a hula-dancer-like push to the side with his hands, infuriated me. I looked down at his shoes to dissipate my rage. Gail's words came back to me: "If you ever get lost or upset, just tell, as best you can, what happened to you."

  "He put his arms around both my arms, down at my side, and the other around the mouth, and so I couldn't really fight, and I agreed not to scream, and when he let go of my mouth, and I screamed, that is when we started fighting."

  "Were you stationary at the first spot that you stopped at, at that point, or had you been moved?"

  We were not in sync. I kept listening to what I knew to be the truth and I spoke from that place. He used language like that you stopped at, as if I had free will--a choice in the matter.

  "I was walking, yes."

  "He was standing behind you; isn't that right?"

  "Yes, he was."

  "You gave a--quite detailed description today, and I believe that you testified that the person that was there was about five five to five seven, broad shoulders, small but very muscular, and you testified that he had a--I can't read my own writing--some kind of a line--"

  "Boxer," I said.

  "A pug nose?"

  "Yes."

  "Almond-shaped eyes?"

  "Yes."

  "Now, is it your testimony that you gave all of that information to the police on May eighth?"

  "On May eighth, what I was to do was to put together a composite drawing from features."

  "Did you give the police, who were going to go looking for the suspect, the information you gave us here today?"

  "Could you repeat that?"

  "Did you give the information that I just outlined, that you testified to today, did you give all that information to the police on May the eighth?"

  "I don't recall if I gave them all of it. I gave most of it."

  "Did you sign a statement on May eighth that set forth your version of the incident as it occurred?"

  "Yes, I did."

  "Would it refresh your memory if I were to show you the statement and give you an opportunity to review it?"

  "Yes."

  "I would ask this be marked as defendant's exhibit."

  Paquette handed a copy to me and one to the judge. "I show you, to review the statement to yourself, and I guide your attention to the bottom paragraph, and I think that is where most of the description is, and review it to yourself and let me know when you are finished, and if your memory has been refreshed as to the description you gave to the police on May eighth, 1981."

  He had succeeded in talking during the entire time I had to review the statement.

  "Have you had an opportunity to review that?"

  "Yes."

  "Could you tell me what you told them on the eighth of May?"

  "I said--'I wish to state the man I encountered in the park is a Negro, approximately sixteen to eighteen years of age, small and muscular build of one hundred and fifty pounds, wearing dark blue sweat shirt and dark jeans with short Afro-style haircut. I desire prosecution in the event this individual is caught.'"

  "That doesn't say anything about the jaw or pug nose or any almond eyes, does it?"

  "No," I said, "it does not." I was not thinking fast. How, if I had not mentioned them, could the composite have been made? Why didn't the police take those things down? When presented with the insufficiency of my statement, I was unable to reason that the lack in it had not been my fault. Paquette had won his point.

  "Now, you saw this--individual on Marshall Street again, and this was in October; is that right?"

  "Yes."

  "I gather from your testimony that you made a--correct me if I am wrong--you made an effort to remember the features of that person so that you could go back and reconstruct it?"

  "Yes, I did."

  "Then what you did was, you went back to your dorm and reconstructed those features that you recall from that encounter on Marshall Street; is that true?"

  "Also from the encounter on May eighth," I said. Anticipating his point, I rushed on, "And I could not have identified him as the man who raped me unless he was the man who raped me."

  "Repeat that?"

  I was glad to.

  "In other words, I am saying that I would not have spotted him on the street as the man who raped me unless he was the man who raped me. So I knew those features. I had to know those features and what they looked like in order to identify him in the first place."

  "You were on Marshall
Street, and you saw this individual for the first time on that day? What was he doing?"

  "I saw him for the first time on May eighth, and I saw him for the second time on October fifth."

  I noticed Gail; she had been leaning forward listening to the cross. With that answer she sat back in her chair with a force of pride.

  "That is what I said, for the first time on that day. I was trying--"

  "I don't want to get tripped up," I said.

  "Okay."

  "Now," I started again, "the first time that I saw him, and I knew for sure that it was him--the man who had raped me--was when he was crossing the street and said, 'Hey, girl, don't I know you from somewhere,' and the first time I saw the same body was on the other side of the street, when he was talking to the man in the alley between Way Inn and Gino's and Joe's." I was being as exact as possible. I had first spotted his body from the back--not becoming certain it was him until a few minutes later when he spoke to me and I saw his face."

  "He was talking to someone in the alley there?"

  "Yes."

  "That is how far from where you were?"

  "From where I was when?"

  "Where you were standing when you saw him."

  "I was walking, and when I saw him and it--it is just the street, he was on the sidewalk, and so it was just the street."

  "You didn't say anything to him?"

  "No. I said nothing."

  "He didn't say anything to you?"

  "He said, 'Hey, girl, don't I know you from somewhere?'"

  Paquette was suddenly excited. "Did he say that? Are you saying that he said that then or after he came back down the street?"

  "He wasn't in the alley," I said. I wanted to make certain of what I said now. I couldn't imagine the cause for Paquette's excitement. Wouldn't know for fifteen years that the defense had claimed Madison had been talking to Officer Clapper when he said, "Hey, don't I know you from somewhere?" I backtracked. There was something Paquette was after and I didn't know what. "He was talking to a man in the alley. He said that to me when I was on the other side of the street, the Huntington Hall side, and walking up and away from the Varsity. He said that as he was crossing the street and coming toward me."

  "That would be the second time of that day that you saw him?"

  "Yes. That was the first time that I knew for sure that that was the man who raped me."

  "A lot of things happened," Paquette said. The tone he used was breezy, as if it had been a big and overwhelming day at the fair for me. As if I couldn't get my story straight because there was no straight story. "Did you contact the police and make a statement to the police on October fifth?"

  "Yes, I did."

  "That was the sworn statement that you signed?"

  "Yes."

  "You did ask the lieutenant to indicate that was full and accurate and complete?"

  "Yes, I did."

  "Did you tell the police on October fifth, 1981 that the man you saw on Marshall Street was the man who raped you, or did you say that you had a feeling that he might be the man?"

  "I said that that was the man who raped me on May eighth."

  "You are sure of that?"

  He was setting something up. Even I could see that. The only thing I could do was stick to my story as he pinned me down.

  "Yes, I am."

  "So if the statement says something else, then the statement is wrong?"

  I was in a minefield now; I kept walking.

  "Yes, it is."

  "But you signed the statement, didn't you?"

  He was taking his time. I looked right at him.

  "Yes, I did."

  "Did you have a chance to read it over?"

  "Yes, I did."

  "Did they review it with you before you signed it?"

  This was excruciating.

  "They didn't review it. They gave it to me to read."

  "Who are they?" he asked belligerently. He checked a note he'd made. He was grandstanding now. "You've had fourteen years of school," he said, "and you read it, and that was no problem, and you understood it all?"

  "Yes, I did."

  "Your testimony today is that you were sure that that is true. Even if the statement on October the fifth doesn't say that--"

  Mastine objected. "Perhaps we could have a question and answer?"

  "Sustained," said Gorman.

  "Do you recall," Paquette began again, "saying in the statement to the police, 'I had a feeling that the black male--'"

  Mastine stood. "I will object to the counsel reading from the statement or using the statement to impeach credibility; reading from the statement is improper, and in fact I object to it on that basis--"

  "He could read from the statement," Gorman said to Mastine. "I believe, Mr. Paquette, you should form the question something like this, 'Do you recall giving the statement to the police, on such and such a date?' and read the statement. If you would, please."

  "Sure," Paquette said. Some of his steam had been lost.

  "Do you recall giving the statement to the police on October fifth?"

  "Yes."

  "Do you recall telling the police that 'I had a feeling that the black male might be the person that raped me last May in Thorden Park'?"

  I had caught on to the game now. "I would like to see a copy of it just to be sure," I said.

  "Sure, be happy to. I would ask that this be marked as defendant's C for identification, the statement made by Alice Sebold on October fifth.

  "I ask you to review the statement and ask you if that refreshes your recollection as to the information you gave at the time?"

  I scanned the contents of my affidavit. Immediately I saw the problem.

  "Okay," I said.

  "Did you advise the police in that statement that you were sure--"

  I interrupted him. Suddenly I knew that the last few minutes were ones I could wrestle back from him.

  "The reason why I said that I had a feeling at that point was because I had only seen his back and his mannerisms at that point. I was sure when I saw his face on the second time, when I was on the other side of the street. I had a feeling, because of his build and mannerisms on the first time, when I saw him from the back, but since I had then not seen his face at that time, I was not sure. When I saw his face I was sure that that was the man who raped me on May eighth."

  "This statement was made after you had seen him both times on Marshall Street, wasn't it?"

  "Yes, it was. They asked me to describe it and in chronological order, which I did."

  "Does that statement in any way reflect a change in your stance from 'might be' to 'is'?"

  "No, it does not."

  "Thank you." He acted as if he had won something. He wanted out of that line of questioning and he took what he could get. He opted to muddy the water. Wasn't it clear from all this feeling to sure, might be to is that I was too confused to be believed?

  "By the way," he said, reapproaching again, "on the day of the lineup in November, were there people from the Rape Crisis Center present in the building?"

  "Yes, there were."

  "Had you had counsel with them just prior to the lineup?"

  "Counsel?"

  "Did you talk to them and were they available?"

  "Yes. She accompanied me to the Public Safety Building."

  "As soon as you left the lineup, were they still available to you?"

  "Yes, she was."

  "She was?"

  "Yes."

  "You talked to her before and you talked to her after; is that right?"

  "Yes."

  "Are they here today? Is there anyone from the Rape Crisis Center here today?"

  "No, they are not."

  "They are neither in the courtroom or in the building?"

  "No."

  Paquette hadn't liked the point Mastine had made earlier, that Paquette, by not allowing Tricia in the room, could himself have had a hand in undermining the lineup as evidence.

  "Now, t
here was a lineup procedure held, wasn't there?"

  "Yes, there was."

  "I believe that that was on November fourth?"

  "Yes, it was."

  "Do you remember an Investigator Lorenz being there?"

  "Yes, I do."

  "Had you recognized him from seeing him before?"

  "Yes, I had."

  "Where had you recognized him from?"

  "He is the man who took my affidavit on May eighth."

  "Did he ever tell you that he didn't believe the statement that you made on May eighth?"

  I did not stop. Neither Gail nor Mastine had told me that Lorenz initially doubted me.

  "No, he did not."

  "Do you remember him advising you in any way when you first came into the lineup room?"

  "He told me that my duty was to look at the five men and mark the box as to which one was the man in question."

  "Do you recall who else was in the lineup room?"

  I went through my head, reimagining the room and the bodies in it. "Mrs. Uebelhoer, the court stenographer, or the room stenographer--I don't know what you call them--and the other man was sitting there, and he did something, and me."

  "Do you recall--"

  "Yes, you."

  His tone had switched suddenly. He was fatherly, shepherding. I didn't trust him.

  "Do you remember an Investigator Lorenz advising you to take your time and look the people over and feel free to move around?"

  "Yes. I do remember that."

  "Do you recall me asking the investigator to explain to you how to--"

  "Excuse me?"

  "Do you recall me asking the investigator to explain to you how you should use the form?" His smile was almost benevolent.

  "I don't recall you specifically," I said.

  "You remember he did tell you that?"

  "Somebody told me how to use it."

  "In fact," he said, his smile gone now, "you did stand up and move around the room?"

  "Yes."

  "Didn't you even have the suspects make some sort of a motion; I think you had each of them turn to their left? Do you remember that?"

  "Yes, I did."

  "The investigator had each do that--'Number one, turn to your left'--and you remember that?"

  He was dragging this out; it was his job to.

  "Yes."

  "At the end of that procedure, what did you do? What was the next thing that happened?"

  "I counted down to four and five, and I chose five because he was looking at me."

  "You chose number five?"

  "Yes. I put the X in the box for five." I would say it a thousand times; I had done it.

  "You signed that?"

  "Yes, I did."

  "Did you express in words, in that room, at that time, to anyone, any concern in your mind over it not being number five?"