When Jason and I were in bed that night, I asked him if Olivia had questioned his intern, Wilson, about whether he had ever mentioned those boxer shorts to Rachel.
“She decided it was better not to reveal that detail, since it’s not public yet.”
“But shouldn’t we find that out?” As things stood, that photograph of her kissing Wilson had been used to make her look promiscuous and not for any other reason.
“I think Olivia preferred Wilson’s statement as it was, especially that part about my being hot.”
“Sort of hot,” I corrected. “I don’t understand why she wouldn’t have at least asked him about it in private.”
“Because that would be giving him information he doesn’t currently have.”
“Would that be so bad? I mean, Rachel could have seen something. You said you were tucking your shirt in when she walked in.”
“But the police don’t know that. She made it sound like I was flashing her or something.”
“But maybe she did see more than you thought?”
He rested the book he was reading on his chest and looked at me directly. “I’m just glad this looks like it’s over. Aren’t you?”
“Of course I am.”
“Okay, then.” He kissed me and kept reading. As I closed my eyes, I wondered where Rachel Sutton was and how she was feeling.
17
Corrine was waiting at the counter for her lunch when ADA Brian King’s number appeared on her cell. “Duncan,” she said.
“So did you watch it?”
He had called her yesterday to see if she’d seen a kid named Wilson Stewart on New Day. Apparently he was one of Jason Powell’s interns and had had a fling with Rachel Sutton. Corrine had informed him that she had an actual job that kept her from watching morning television, but she’d find it online when she had time.
Now that she had watched it, she told King that she didn’t think it changed anything. “You said from the start the case was impossible, plus it’s a misdemeanor at best. Kerry’s case is the one that matters now, right?”
The media winds had shifted in Jason Powell’s direction in the last two days, but Kerry Lynch would prove harder to discredit. She was the vice president of marketing for Oasis Inc., one of Powell’s clients. According to Kerry, Powell was flirtatious during the course of their work together. When he walked her back to her hotel room after a business dinner six weeks ago, he made an advance. When she rejected him, he suddenly grabbed her, threw her down on the bed, and bound her wrists together with his belt.
For King, it wasn’t enough. “I said Rachel’s case was impossible to prove, on its own. I want to put these two charges together and argue that it’s part of a pattern.”
“And you can still do that.”
Kerry may not have called the police immediately, but she did take photographs of the red marks on her wrists. She also had the presence of mind to hold on to the DNA, placing the skirt and panties she’d been wearing during the attack in a plastic hotel laundry bag. She had handed Corrine the bag as if it contained hazardous materials. “His—well, you’ll see. It’s on there. I was so sick afterward I started to throw it away, but I didn’t want the maids to see. This bag has been stuffed in the corner of my closet ever since. Maybe some part of me knew I should hang on to it.”
On the other end of the line, King was still venting about yesterday’s New Day interview. “I’ll bet you a thousand dollars that Powell gets that kid whatever hedge-fund job he wants when he graduates.”
Behind the counter, a guy with arms the size of milk gallons called out Corrine’s name and handed her a takeout bag, already beginning to spot with grease.
“Where are you?” King asked.
“Getting lunch.”
“Where?”
“Lechonera La Isla.”
“I don’t even know what you just said.”
“Best chicharrón in the city.”
“Okay, you’re making up words now.”
“I like how you own your whiteness, King. It suits you.” At the register, she fished twelve dollars from her purse, enough to cover lunch and a healthy tip for the jar. She continued the conversation outside as she began the short walk back to the precinct. “Do you have a subpoena yet for the hotel?” Powell had attacked Kerry after walking her back to her room at the W. Surveillance video wouldn’t show the actual assault, but the footage might at least place Powell inside a hotel room with the complainant.
“Yeah, I sent it over to their general counsel this morning. I’ll e-mail you the contact info so you can follow up. I also subpoenaed his cell phone records.”
“Sounds good. And, oh, the preliminary screening of the clothes Kerry gave me confirmed the presence of semen. We need a warrant to swab Powell.” A quick oral swab would give them the DNA they needed for a comparison.
“I don’t know. The case is weak. She didn’t report it until six weeks later,” King said.
Corrine did her best to keep her voice calm as she tried to explain the flaw in his logic. “The whole reason you leaked Rachel’s complaint in the first place was to see if other victims—ones who never came forward—might contact us. You were looking for a pattern. Bill Cosby. Trump. That gym teacher last year in Queens. Men who do this once, do it often. But now, after that worked and led us to Kerry, you’re holding it against her that she didn’t come forward earlier?”
“I want the case to be better.”
“Most rape survivors don’t call the police. And Kerry has a good explanation. She knew how important Powell’s work was for her company. And she didn’t think anyone would believe her given his squeaky-clean image.”
“You don’t need to give me the Sex Offenses 101 lecture, Duncan, but I’m the one who has to convince a jury. And it doesn’t matter how the real world works—in court, jurors don’t like victims who wait almost two months to call the police. Not to mention, she met with Powell in person—at her house—the same day she accused him of rape.”
According to Kerry, Jason had insisted on meeting with her alone after Rachel’s complaint against him hit the news. Kerry agreed to meet him at her home because she did not want her coworkers to overhear whatever he had to say. He offered her $100,000 to sign a nondisclosure agreement regarding the attack at the hotel. She told him that she wanted to think about it, but went to SVU instead.
“I’m not asking you to go to trial yet. We just need the DNA swab.”
“Except judges aren’t immune to media attention. They’ll want to know his side of the story.”
“He already lawyered up.”
“That was about Rachel, not Kerry.”
“Well, if he invoked about a misdemeanor, he’s going to invoke on a rape charge.”
“We won’t know until we ask. At the very least, the judge will see we did some legwork before asking for a swab. Maybe you can word your questions as if they’re related to Rachel. By now, he probably thinks he’s in the clear on that.”
“But he invoked as to Rachel,” Corrine argued. “I’m only allowed to speak to him because there’s a new allegation.”
“Let me do the lawyering, okay? You’re not required to notify him of the new charge. Tell him Kerry Lynch’s name came up in your investigation, something low-key like that. See how he responds.”
“Now you’re telling me how to do my job?”
“Fair enough. Enjoy your chimichangas or whatever.”
“Enjoy your turkey sandwich on whole grain.”
“Please tell me that was a lucky guess.”
“Uh-huh,” she said, smiling, as she hung up.
18
As each hour passed, I could almost feel the rest of the world caring less and less about Jason and whatever it was that intern may have said about him.