Misty River, page 13
“Nonetheless, Olivia has to run. It’s worth the risk.
“She toys with the buttons on her blue cotton sweater, pretending to unbutton them. Then, thinking he is in total control of his captive, the defendant takes his eyes from her, places his gun on the floorboard of the passenger seat, and begins to focus on removing his own clothes.”
Blake paused for effect and surveyed the jury box. All eyes were fixed on him. No one fiddled or squirmed.
“The moment has arrived for her escape. While the defendant is unfastening his pants, she opens the driver’s side door and vaults out of the car in a flash, running aimlessly into the woods, as fast as humanly possible. She prays that her assailant won’t pursue her, but her prayer goes unanswered.
“In one motion, the defendant retrieves his firearm and jumps out of the car in pursuit of his prey, screaming at her and threatening to kill her if she doesn’t stop running.”
Blake sped up his delivery and raised his voice a couple of decibels.
“Olivia doesn’t get far before her legs give out, and she stumbles and falls to the ground. She looks up to see the defendant standing over her. He drives his foot into her chest and pins her to the ground, grabs her arm with his left hand and pulls her towards him, then using his right hand, violently strikes her head with the gun. Dazed but conscious, Olivia falls to the cold, damp, muddy ground.
“The defendant yells, ‘Get the fuck up! I’m going to teach you a lesson you’ll never forget.’ Olivia stands on unsteady legs, knowing this nightmare is about to get worse.”
Blake moved from the lectern, drawing closer to the defendant’s table. Then, catching him off-guard, he pointed at Owens’s cowering face. This time, he had no opportunity to look away.
Blake turned to face the jurors and asked them to listen carefully to the orders the defendant barked at his victim.
“This defendant, while pointing his gun in Olivia’s face, barks, ‘Take off your clothes!’
“Olivia freezes. This defendant screams, ‘I told you to take off your fucking clothes!’
“Trembling, she begins to strip off her clothes, one item at a time. She unbuttons and removes her blue cotton sweater, Converse sneakers, jeans, bra, and panties, sure he’ll kill her if she fails to obey him. She’s humiliated, embarrassed to be standing naked and instinctively wraps one hand over her breasts, and the other over her genitals.
“The defendant stares at her naked body, smirks, and says, ‘I like that.’ Then staring at her left hand. which is covering her breasts, he spots her engagement ring and orders her to give it to him.
“Olivia looks at her ring and begins to sob. The defendant has no sympathy and says, ‘If you don’t shut up, I’m going to use my gun and shut you up.’”
Blake lowered his head and slowly stepped towards the jury box, stopped, and raised his head to look into the eyes of the jurors. Then softly and in a slow cadence, he told the rest of the story.
“The defendant shoves his gun into Olivia’s stomach, making her moan in pain. He issues her an ultimatum to give him her engagement ring, or he’ll pull the trigger. Olivia doesn’t comply, and the defendant grabs her hand, rips the ring from her finger, stuffs it in the pocket of his jeans, and shoves her to the ground.
“He removes his jeans, mounts her, and forces himself into her. When she valiantly resists, the defendant’s cruel attack becomes more violent. He raises his left arm over her head, and with a closed fist, strikes her face as hard as he can. With his other hand, he jams the gun barrel into her head.
“Ladies and gentlemen, note well what I am about to say. The defendant did everything he could to terrify her and force her into submission. He beat her and threatened to kill her.
“It would be reasonable to think that Olivia Spencer gives up after everything she endures at the hands of this defendant. But hear me when I say to you that she does not. Olivia continues to fight the defendant. She begs him to stop.
“He doesn’t.
“She asks, ‘Why are you doing this? I never did anything to you?’
“He doesn’t care.
“Olivia cries out for help, but no one hears her. The only response is the whistle of a passing train.
“The defendant overpowers her, and for the next hour, he rapes her repeatedly.
“When he decides he’s satisfied, before rolling off her, he whispers that he knows where she lives, and if she snitches on him, he will find her and kill her. He begins to put his jeans back on, surveilling the surrounding area, most likely to be sure that no one witnessed his attack.
“Realizing this is her last chance to survive, Olivia stands and pretends to retrieve her clothes, then runs as fast as she can in the direction of the train whistle.
“Perhaps because he is too tired to chase her, the defendant repeatedly fires his gun at her. Thank God he’s a lousy shot. He returns to Olivia’s vehicle and flees the crime scene.
“Olivia disappears into the woods without looking back. She continues to run as far as her legs will allow, praying the monster won’t pursue her. This time, her prayers are answered.
“Realizing that her assailant is not behind her, she stops to rest her legs and sits on the ground for a moment. She bends over, her head in her lap, and for the first time since this nightmare began, she tells herself that at least she’s alive.
“When Olivia looks up, she spots what turns out to be the Elliot farmhouse off in the distance. Naked and out of breath, she makes it to the front porch, crying for help. Finally in a safe place, she encounters the widow, Zelene Elliot.
“Members of the jury, I am going to bring into this courtroom the exhibit bag utilized by the sheriff’s evidence technician to preserve the soiled clothes recovered in the secluded area of the woods where this defendant repeatedly beat her and violated her. We’re going to open it up, and you’ll smell the stench of the dank, musty, decomposing leaves, vegetation, and mud, the same stench Olivia smelled while she was forced to lie on the ground while the defendant sexually abused her.”
Blake pointed to the witness chair and said, “You’ll see Olivia in that chair, and she will tell you what happened.”
“At the close of this trial, you’ll have no choice but to hold that man accountable for what he did to her.” Blake pointed once more at Owens.
“The evidence, the law, and decency will demand that you convict him.”
He paused, then said, “Thank you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Moretti.” The judge turned to the defense table. “Mr. Sweeney, you may deliver your opening statement.”
Sweeney walked to the lectern, took a moment to peer at his notes, and began. “May it please the court, ladies, and gentlemen of the jury, Mr. Moretti and Detective Barnes. As he sits here today, my client, Billy Owens, is innocent of every charge he is falsely accused of committing. Simply put, Billy has been framed.
“I cannot emphasize enough that my client has no legal obligation to prove his innocence.”
Pointing at Blake, he told the jury, “The judge will instruct you that the government has the burden of proving its case beyond a reasonable doubt, the highest duty of proof there is in our great country.
“I am here to tell you that the government’s case has more holes than Swiss cheese. First, their entire case rests on the testimony of a troubled woman. Now, I do not take pleasure in pointing out the complaining witness’s mental health issues, but my client’s life is at stake, and we cannot sit back and allow the government to railroad him. It is unfair to my client and to you, whom the government is using to do their dirty work.
“Ladies and gentlemen, my client does not deny having a consensual sexual fling with his accuser. However, she engaged my client to have sex with her after staking him out in the supermarket parking lot.
“Although we do not have to offer any evidence, I will tell you now that my client is not going down without exposing the government’s fraudulent case. Mr. Owens will take the stand, take his oath to speak the truth, and tell you what happened.
“The truth is that Ms. Spencer lured my client to leave in her vehicle and drive to a secluded area in the woods, which I must tell you she was very familiar with, to have sex with my client. When they finished making love, the woman gave her engagement ring to him as a gesture of thanks.
“As Mr. Owens was getting dressed, his companion abruptly dashed off into the dense woods, completely unclothed, leaving him in utter bewilderment and isolation.
“He didn’t know then, but we now believe she was not on good terms with her boyfriend and desired to have sex with my client. She was concerned that somehow her boyfriend would hear about it, so she staged a fake rape, then ran into the woods to locate anyone she could to substantiate her fairytale story.
“At the time, my client was in a long-term relationship with Valerie Fleming. He was about to ask her to marry him when this phony rape occurred.
“Mr. Owens is a fantastic person. His father left him when he was a baby. His mother was a drug addict and consistently abused him growing up. Yet, despite coming from a dysfunctional family, he graduated from high school and made something of himself.
“Ladies and gentlemen, there are always two sides to a story. So, on behalf of Billy Owens, I respectfully ask you not to decide this case until all the evidence has been heard and seen.
“Thank you for your attention.”
“Thank you, Mr. Sweeney,” Judge Croghan said.
“The state may call its first witness.” She looked expectantly at Blake.
CHAPTER 23
The Prosecutor’s Case
The Rape Trial Continues
Witnesses for both sides are precluded from listening to the others’ testimony, so they are held outside the courtroom until they are called.
“Thank you, Your Honor. The People call Olivia Spencer.”
All heads turned as the bailiff led Olivia into the courtroom. Jennifer and Blake had spent countless hours preparing her to testify. She had one opportunity to be heard, and her testimony would determine whom the jury believed. There was no room for error.
Jennifer had discussed how to dress, her demeanor entering the courtroom, and her posture on the witness stand, while Blake explained the importance of looking the jurors in the eye and speaking up when she answered questions so everyone in the courtroom, including the people in the last row, could hear her.
During Blake’s direct examination, she tried to remain calm, but choked up and had to pause several times to hold back the tears as she recounted her nightmare. Blake could see from the jurors’ faces that Olivia had touched their hearts. Her story visibly shook everyone in the courtroom, and there was an eerie silence when she paused.
Blake saw that her testimony had left her mentally exhausted. He’d often seen that look on the faces of victims reliving their heinous attacks. So he paused in his direct examination to give her time to think about the reality of her assault. He knew what would come next. Olivia put her head in her hands and sobbed uncontrollably. He poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the counselor’s table.
“Your Honor, may I approach the witness?”
“Yes, please do,”
The court reporter offered her a box of tissues.
Judge Croghan leaned toward the witness stand. “Ms. Spencer, we can take a break if you like.”
Olivia shook her head. She knew Blake was nearing the end of his direct examination.
He left the lectern and positioned himself as close to the far end of the jury as possible to be sure that Olivia would be in their line of sight. He paused before asking his last questions, allowing Olivia and the jurors to make eye contact.
“Ms. Spencer, for the last hour, you have described in detail the horrific acts of violence you were forced to endure on the evening of March 17, 1985, at the hands of a man who pointed a gun at your head.”
For the first time, Sweeney stood up to object. “Your Honor, does Mr. Moretti have a question he would like to ask this witness, or is this just another of his fairytale speeches?”
“Mr. Sweeney,” Judge Croghan replied, “I suspect Mr. Moretti is laying the foundation for his next question. Accordingly, I grant him that latitude and overrule your objection. You may continue, Mr. Moretti.”
Blake thought, Jesus, if Sweeney was upset with my last comment, wait till he hears what I say next. “Thank you, Your Honor,” he said. Then slowly, softly, and methodically, he asked, “Ms. Spencer, you told us that on March 17, 1985, you were kidnapped and carjacked at gunpoint, then forced to drive to a secluded area along the Misty River. After attempting to escape, you were hunted down like an animal, your attacker threatened to shoot you, and you were stomped on after falling to the muddy ground. You were beaten, then forced to remove one item of clothing at a time: a blue cotton cardigan, jeans, sneakers, bra, and panties. Your engagement ring was ripped off your finger. You were verbally threatened, and when you fought to resist your assailant, he became more violent, slapped your face, threatened to blow your brains out, and I quote, ‘fuck you hard after he killed you.’ And after all that, you were brutally and repeatedly raped.”
Sweeney was on his feet again. “Your Honor, is there a question coming any time soon?”
“I suspect you’re going to get to it forthwith. Proceed, Mr. Moretti.”
“Thank you, Your Honor. Ms. Spencer is the man who committed these heinous, cruel, and cold-hearted acts of kidnapping, robbery, and rape in this courtroom?”
“Yes, sir, he is.”
“Please point to your assailant and, for the record, describe what he is wearing.”
Strong now, her head held high, Olivia raised a steady hand and pointed. “That is the man who kidnapped, robbed, and raped me. He is wearing a white shirt, red tie, and blue suit and is seated next to his lawyer, Mr. Sweeney.”
Blake turned to the judge, “Your Honor, let the record reflect that the witness has identified the defendant.”
“Yes, the record shall reflect the witness identified the defendant as her assailant,” Judge Croghan responded.
“Ms. Spencer, are you absolutely sure?”
“There is no doubt in my mind. I have relived the pain Mr. Owens caused me almost every waking moment. Mr. Moretti, some people have the kind of face you can’t forget. Mr. Owens has one of those faces. I will never forget that man’s face, the stench of his body, his filthy clothes, and the strong odor of alcohol on his breath.”
“Thank you for your courage in coming here today and sharing your tragic story with us. No further questions.”
Blake returned to the prosecutor’s table.
Judge Croghan asked, “Mr. Sweeney, do you have questions for the witness?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Very well, proceed.”
Sweeney stood, buttoned the jacket of his dark suit, and approached the witness box. “Ms. Spencer, on the night of March 17, 1987, first responding, Officer Barlow asked why you went shopping so late, and you replied, ‘You needed to get out because something on your mind was troubling you.’ Perhaps you were having second thoughts about getting married when you ran into my client in the supermarket parking lot. Isn’t that true?”
“Yes, sir, I had some things on my mind that night.”
Sweeney walked towards the jury box and asked, “Ms. Spencer. Oh, by the way, it is Ms., not Mrs., correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You told the jury you were engaged to be married. When was your wedding to take place?”
“April 22, 1987, sir.”
“I see. So you never did get married. Isn’t that true?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Isn’t it true that you were having second thoughts about marrying your fiancé on the night of March 17, 1987?” Sweeney turned to the jury, gauging their reactions.
Olivia replied, “Perhaps that was on my mind, as well as work-related issues.”
“Ms. Spencer, isn’t it true that on Saint Patrick’s Day night, March 17. 1985, a night when thousands of folks are out partying and drinking green beer, you were upset that your fiancé wouldn’t celebrate with you, so you decided to go out that night with the pretense of grocery shopping, hoping you’d run into a man? That’s when you spotted my client, Mr. Owens, at the supermarket, flirted with him, and took him for a fling in the woods?”
Sweeney couldn’t have cared less what was on Olivia’s mind. His goal was to plant the seed in the minds of the jurors that she was out looking for a good time and hoped at least one of them bought into the fable.
Blake knew he’d be overruled if he objected to the question. Sweeney would argue it was his client’s defense. He’d already told the jury his client would testify to that untruth, and he knew that Olivia would deny the allegation. In fact, he’d anticipated Sweeney’s tactic and was prepared for it. When Blake first interviewed Olivia, she’d told him about her state of mind the night of the attack and the adverse after-effects of the sexual assault. He planned to ask her about it on redirect, and whatever points Sweeney thought he’d gained by presenting this preposterous defense would be crushed. Blake also knew that Sweeney hoped Blake would object so he could insinuate that the prosecution was concealing the “other side of the story” he’d referred to in his opening statement. But when Blake didn’t object, he left Sweeney out on a limb, and he couldn’t wait to cut it off.
Olivia had been prepared for the question, but she was indignant, nevertheless. “No, that is not true, and you should be ashamed of yourself. Your client raped me, and he has destroyed my life!”
Sweeney didn’t even pause. “Ms. Spencer, among the few grocery items you purchased that night was a six-pack of Guinness Irish beer. Isn’t that true?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Let’s stop playing games with this jury. It was you who took my client for a ride in your vehicle to a secluded area in the woods to celebrate Saint Patrick’s Day with a six-pack of Irish beer, hoping to engage in sex with him. Yes, or no?” Sweeney didn’t care about her answer. Again, he was planting seeds of doubt.
