In response to the questions from your earlier e-mail, here are my thoughts, followed by—more importantly—new developments:
Regarding our argument that night at the W, we should discuss this further, because the dynamics are complicated. Here’s the short version: After dinner on 4/10, we were intimate in her room. She wanted me to stay the night but of course I could not (that never stopped her from asking). In an act of very bad timing, I decided to talk to her again before I left about my concerns regarding Oasis. She knew I was in a conflicted position, not only because I had investors with them, but also because she worked for them and I cared about her. I had talked to her about the possibility of becoming a whistleblower, and brought it up with her again. At that point, I thought the problems were limited to projects in Tanzania and Mozambique, which could mean that someone handling their operations in Africa was responsible. But that night, she said my concerns shed new light on some internal memos she had been cc’d on. She’s the one who made me suspect that corruption might be par for the course for Oasis. I pressed her for details, but she shut down. From that moment on, she was basically promising to give me the documents and help me “go whistleblower” if I left Angela for her—a test of my commitment to fulfill promises I never should have made. If the video shows us fighting, it’s because I was telling her that she could not be complicit if she knew Oasis was in bed with dictators and warlords. I remember thinking when I stepped into the elevator, “What have I done?” I knew I had messed up getting tied up with Oasis.
Regarding the clothes Kerry was wearing, she wears knee-length skinny black skirts more often than not, and almost always wears a black lace thong (to my knowledge). If I had to guess, whatever clothing she was wearing our last time together at her house will line up with what she was wearing in the hotel video. She’s not stupid.
Regarding the “injuries” to her wrists: Yes. We engaged in that activity multiple times. The last time we were together, she specifically asked that I use my belt. I remember she said “Tighter” twice. I was worried it was too rough, but she was encouraging. I now realize why. I’m a fool. There’s no doubt in my mind those photos are from 5/19 at her house, not 4/10 at the W.
Regarding your attempt (once again) to put Angela out front, as we’ve discussed, this is a deal-breaker. Angela has been through enough. Mention this again, and I’ll need to find a different lawyer. You indicated yesterday that their attorney was open to a settlement. If it will put all this behind us, I’ll pay. Just tell me the number.
*****IMPORTANT: While I was at work today, Det. Duncan questioned Angela without counsel at our home regarding my whereabouts last night (I assume this must be when Kerry went “missing”). As she explained, we were home together from the time I finished client meetings (got home around 6:15) until we fell asleep. Our son called from camp shortly before 7:30. We ate takeout from Gotham, then stayed up late and watched La La Land. I am attaching the following documents should they prove helpful: (1) photo of Angela’s phone (as you know, we have no landline), showing call from Spencer’s camp (ending 7:23 pm); (2) receipt from Gotham (Colin brought us food for the whole day); (3) printout from Amazon Prime movie rental, showing streaming time (starting at 11:02 pm). What more could they want from me other than a webcam in my house (which I would have agreed to if I had known this nonsense would happen)?
I have no idea what Kerry’s trying to pull, but trust me: it’s about money and getting back at me. You saw that movie Gone Girl, right? She’s that batshit-crazy about me not leaving Angela for her. Granted, I was a shit head, but I don’t deserve this. Give me a call to discuss. Thanks, as always, for everything. I still can’t believe this is happening.
45
Corrine found out Kerry Lynch was missing when a sergeant with the Port Washington Police Department called. According to him, Kerry Lynch’s dog walker showed up to her house to walk Kerry’s bichon frise, Snowball. The Long Island cop must have been a dog person, because he couldn’t just say “dog.” He had both the breed and the name at his fingertips. The dog walker did her usual routine with Snowball, but noticed as she returned his leash to its hook in the mudroom that Kerry’s purse and briefcase were both on the bench. She called out for Kerry, then looked in the attached garage and saw her car. When she walked into the kitchen, she found takeout containers on the counter and dishes in the sink. She had never seen a spot of dirt in Kerry’s house before.
Growing concerned, the walker called Kerry’s cell to make sure everything was okay, and heard her own call come through on a cell left on the living room sofa. When she tried Kerry’s office, they said she hadn’t come in to work that day and that they had been trying to reach her. The walker’s next call was to 911.
When the sergeant who got the call-out realized Kerry was the woman who had accused Jason Powell of sexual assault, he contacted Corrine.
Corrine’s first call had been to Brian King. The second was to Janice Martinez, who had not bothered to get back to her until now, after a full day had passed.
“Sorry, Detective. I’ve been swamped.”
“All I needed was a phone call to find out the last time you spoke to Kerry Lynch.”
“My communications with my client are—”
“Give it a rest. I’m not asking about conversations. When I first called you, Kerry had only missed one day of work. We’re now on day two. She left behind her wallet, cell phone, ID, car, and dog. It’s not looking good.”
The local police had called Grapevine, the Italian restaurant whose takeout containers were found in Kerry’s kitchen. According to the restaurant, her order—eggplant parmesan and a chicken Caesar salad—went out at 6:30 the evening before the dog walker found the house empty.
“Fine,” Martinez said. “I haven’t spoken to her since Wednesday.”
That was two days ago, the last time she was seen. “What time?”
“Hold on.” Following a short pause, she said, “Three o’clock to three fifteen.”
“This was a phone call?” If Corrine had to guess, it was an eight-minute call rounded to the nearest quarter hour for billing purposes.
“Yeah, her cell. I heard her tell someone she was on the phone at one point. I got the impression she was in her office.”
So Kerry had been at work until at least 3:15. She was likely home by 6:30 to order takeout. Then nothing.
“Did you discuss anything that might explain why she’s gone now?” Corrine asked.
“Nope, that’s off-limits.”
“There are exceptions to privilege,” Corrine said. “Your client could be in danger.”
“‘Could be’ are the key words. I need to talk to bar counsel for advice. I really am not sure what to do under the circumstances, and that’s not something you’re going to hear me say too often.”
“It sounds to me as if you’re confirming that something happened Wednesday that might be relevant.”
“I’m not. Because I can’t. Let me figure out what the options are, and I’ll get back to you. I promise.”
Corrine hung up and called the Port Washington sergeant again. His name was Mike Netter. She wondered if he got as many cracks about his name as she did.
She started the conversation by letting him know that Janice Martinez had finally gotten back to her. This, after all, was his case, not hers. “She hasn’t talked to Kerry since fifteen fifteen on Wednesday. Any new information on your end?”
“Talked to a friend of hers at work—girl named Samantha Hicks. She said Kerry was in on Wednesday, out yesterday and today. She didn’t know much more. She said she couldn’t think of any reason she’d be gone except the stress of everything that was happening—first the work trouble, plus the rape, then the media attention, not to mention a breakup. Believe me, I got an earful.”