Текст книги "Consequences"

Автор книги: Aleatha Romig

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Текущая страница: 34 (всего у книги 36 страниц)

  Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one’s definition of your life. Define yourself. —Harvey Fierstein

 Chapter 49

Three days was all they had to prepare for the new preexamination. Claire spent hours with her attorneys uncompartmentalizing everything. She recounted everything she could remember from the last twenty-two months. Tony wouldn’t approve. Nonetheless, she was brutally honest, recounting details that she’d tried to suppress. She explained the initial contact and contract. She said she thought the date rape drug Rohypnol was used to get her to Iowa because she couldn’t remember traveling from Atlanta. This recount could have been demoralizing, but somehow it proved therapeutic, a catharsis.

She described the respected, adored businessman Anthony Rawlings as a cruel, vindictive, masochistic, controlling human being. She did leave their home in a hurry. Justifiably, she did it to get a break from him, his rules, restrictions, and consequences. If he knew that she left the property without his permission, she would’ve been punished. She explained that punishments could range from verbal, mental, to physical abuse. On one occasion, approximately six months after she arrived on his estate, he nearly killed her. She told about the isolation he used. She also told about the sexual exploits, video recording, controlling nature, domineering manipulation, and constant mental and on again, off again physical abuse.

At times, they would stop taking notes and just listen. This was much bigger than anything they expected. Together Paul and Jane worked to build a case, not of a woman trying to gain financially from the death of her wealthy husband, but of an abused woman wanting only to flee the situation.

Paul believed that she had been living in hell, but there were points and events that she would need to explain. She stated she was kidnapped, yet did she ever try to call for help? Didn’t she live in a multimillion dollar mansion? Did she expect people to believe she had no access to telephone, Internet, or anything? Didn’t she marry this man she described as a monster? Didn’t she accept gifts: clothing, money, jewelry, etc.? Didn’t she accompany him on multiple extravagant trips? Didn’t she sit with a reporter from Vanity Fair and give an interview about her wonderful husband and their amazing life together?

Claire understood how things looked. She knew about appearances. But she knew what she endured. She explained that even after things got better with Tony, there was always the underlying threat of abuse. Things did get better after the near-death abuse. He got better and she believed she loved him. But always there were rules and the reminder of consequences for her actions. Any failure to be perfect could result in punishment. The truth would set her free and she was ready to tell the entire world the truth.

Her legal team prepared a preliminary brief. It informed the prosecution of their defense strategy. By no means all inclusive, it did emphasize the hostile relationship between Mr. and Mrs. Rawlings. It highlighted Mr. Rawlings’s aggressive, intimidating, and controlling tendencies. Mrs. Rawlings’s only intention on the day in question was to escape the harsh reality of her life. She didn’t plan nor did she execute a plan to cause Mr. Rawlings harm.

The time for the rescheduled preexamination meeting arrived. Mr. Evergreen and his team, as well as Paul, Jane, and Claire were once again seated around a large table. The only noticeable difference at this meeting was Claire’s brown hair. Indulging Claire’s request, Jane brought her a box of Chestnut hair dye. She looked younger. The blonde was striking, stunning, and beautiful. Claire didn’t feel any of those.

Mr. Evergreen addressed Paul, “How does your client plan to plea?”

“My client is not guilty, and plans to plea as such.”

“I would like to ask your client some questions, to let her know what she will be facing at trial. Mr. Task, Ms. Allyson, do you have any objections to this plan?”

Paul began, “Claire, this isn’t a bad idea, this allows us to understand where the prosecution is coming from with their charges. It also lets you experience the questioning portion of the trial. The questions here are not asked under oath. You can refuse to answer. And your answers cannot be used against you in the actual trial.”

“All right, please ask away.” Claire’s mind was made up. She was innocent and planned to tell the world the truth of what she had endured. Having Marcus Evergreen, a contemporary of Tony’s, sitting across the table was unnerving. After all, Marcus attended their wedding, Tony wouldn’t approve of her telling him certain things. But she was innocent, and if Tony wasn’t going to help her, the truth would.

Mr. Evergreen opened his laptop and began his questioning. “First, Mrs. Rawlings, as your attorney informed you, this is not under oath and your answers cannot be used against you at trial. You should also be aware that my team and I have read Mr. Task’s preliminary brief which discusses the relationship between you and your husband, as well as your allegations to his behavior. I realize that Mr. Task and Ms. Allyson plan to use your allegations in your defense. This procedure is a snapshot of how I and my team plan to cross examine you. Do you understand?” Claire nodded. “Mrs. Rawlings, please answer all questions verbally.” Claire said that she would.

“Please state your name.”

“Claire Rawlings.”

“How long has that been your name?”

“Anthony Rawlings and I were married December 18, 2010.”

“Mrs. Rawlings, I didn’t ask when you were married, but how long Claire Rawlings has been your name.” Mr. Evergreen continued with mundane questions regarding dates and times. Then his questions turned to her life before Mr. Rawlings. What did she do for a living? Where did she live? How did she and Anthony Rawlings meet?

“Why did you move into Mr. Rawlings’s house?”

“I didn’t move into his house, I was taken to his house,” Claire corrected.

“Why were you taken to his house?”

“Mr. Rawlings and I had a business agreement.”

“What kind of agreement did you have?”

Claire hesitated. “He hired me to be his personal assistant.”

“And how much did he pay you to be his personal assistant?”

“He didn’t actually pay me.” Claire wasn’t sure how to explain this so that Mr. Evergreen or a jury would understand.

“You worked for free? Yes or no?”

“No, actually he paid off my debts.”

Mr. Evergreen looked curious. “Your debts, he paid off your debts. Did he pay off your car and maybe a credit card?”

“Yes.”

“And do you have any idea the total amount of your debts?”

Did Claire know? Of course, she knew. Tony mentioned the amount hundreds of times during the beginning of their relationship. “Yes.”

“Well, Mrs. Rawlings, please share. What was the amount of debt that Mr. Rawlings paid off for you?”

“He told me it was $215,000.”

“My, $215,000 to be his personal assistant, was that all? Or were there other benefits?” Benefits, Claire didn’t know what he meant. He continued, “Did Mr. Rawlings provide you housing, clothing, or food?”

“Yes, I lived in his house. The staff prepared my food and he had clothes for me.”

“Now, Mrs. Rawlings, were these old clothes or did he buy you new clothes?”

“They were new. But I never asked—”

“Please just answer the question. So the clothes were new. You lived in his mansion and he paid off $215,000 worth of debt. Tell me what you did as Mr. Rawlings’s personal assistant. Did you answer his phone?”

“No.” He continued, Did you answer his e-mails? No. Did you coordinate his schedule? No. Did you make him food? No. Did you make him drinks? No.

“Mrs. Rawlings, what did you do?”

Claire felt her face flush. “I was supposed to be available whenever he wanted me.”

“Can you please explain yourself? What do you mean available whenever he wanted you?” Mr. Evergreen leaned into the table.

“I was supposed to satisfy his sexual wants and needs.” Claire was looking down.

“Did you do your job?”

“I didn’t have a choice.” Claire was still looking at the table.

“Mrs. Rawlings, I asked if you did your job. Yes or no?”

Claire looked the prosecuting attorney in his eyes. “Yes, I did what I was told.”

“And if my notes are correct you and Anthony Rawlings married nine months after you began your job, is that correct?”

“Yes, we discussed that.”

“Yes, we did. I am just trying to understand. At $215,000, housing, food, and clothing for a period of nine months, I figure that Mr. Rawlings paid you nearly $1,000 a day for sexual pleasure. You must be a great lay!”

Claire glared at the prosecutor. Jane and Paul exploded, “That is unnecessary!”

Mr. Evergreen apologized and continued with his questioning. He asked questions about Claire’s claim of imprisonment. Then he showed pictures of her with Anthony at various activities: dinners, fund-raisers, and outings. Claire thought he had a picture of almost every time she was out of the house during the first six months of her imprisonment. “You don’t understand. I was only allowed out—”

“Mrs. Rawlings, you’ll have the opportunity to discuss your reasons for exaggerating the truth when your attorney is examining you. This is my opportunity. I will ask the questions.” His tone was condescending. He went on, asking about supposed physical abuse. Did she have any doctor’s statements? Had she reported the abuse? Had she even told Mr. Rawlings she didn’t like it?

This again got Jane and Paul out of their seats. Claire felt ill. Her head pounded and her blood sugar felt low. She leaned toward Jane. “Could we break for lunch?”

While Paul went to get sandwiches, Jane and Claire spoke privately. Claire had told them all the information before. She explained how Tony controlled her, she hadn’t been allowed to complain, she couldn’t leave her suite for the longest time, and she was never allowed to leave the property without his permission, even after they were married. But the way Mr. Evergreen was twisting it, it seemed like she was some kind of prostitute. He made it seem like she was after Anthony’s money from the beginning. Jane reassured her that the defense has an opportunity to ask more questions following the prosecution. That would be their time to explain things to the jury.

Even Jane was concerned about the pictures showing Claire and Anthony out in public. Claire didn’t look like a woman being held against her will. Jane had photos on her laptop sent by Mr. Evergreen during the preexamination. She pulled up a picture of the two of them at an upscale Manhattan restaurant. Claire remembered that night. Tony had completed a big business deal and celebrated before dinner. She remembered hating him that night, but the person in the picture didn’t look like she hated him. The Claire in the picture was the perfect companion, exquisitely dressed, beautiful, contented, and attentive. The realization that she’d learned her lessons too well began to add to her pounding head.

Feeling more nourished, they resumed the questioning. “Mrs. Rawlings, you stated that Anthony Rawlings was physically and mentally abusive, yet you decided to marry him. Isn’t that true?”

“Yes.”

“Now can you please tell us who took care of the wedding? And if it was nice?”

“Tony paid for the wedding, he hired wedding planners, they did everything, and it was beautiful. You should know, you were there.”

“Do you have any idea of the cost of your wedding?”

“No.”

“Well, for your information it came to over $350,000. Your dress alone was over $70,000.” Claire really had no idea. “And those figures do not include your rings or your honeymoon. Mrs. Rawlings, can you tell us where you went on your honeymoon?”

“We went to Fiji, to a private island.”

“The cost of this honeymoon, Mrs. Rawlings, do you know the cost?”

“No. It was never discussed with me. I didn’t care about the money!” Claire suddenly felt tired.

“When you were apprehended you were driving a very expensive car registered to you, wearing multiple pieces of fine jewelry and expensive clothes. Do you still claim you don’t care about money?”

“I drove that car because I found the keys. The clothes and jewelry were all because Tony made me wear them. I didn’t even choose my own clothes that morning.”

Mr. Evergreen went back to his laptop. “Now back to your wedding. Did you know that you and Mr. Rawlings don’t have a prenuptial agreement?”

“Yes. He told me we didn’t need one. If I ever tried to leave him there would be unpleasant consequences.”

“Mrs. Rawlings, I am asking the questions. Did you know that his legal consul wanted him to have a prenuptial agreement?”

“Yes, he told me, that the decision was solely his.”

“Did or do you understand that without a prenuptial agreement if you and Mr. Rawlings were to divorce you would have claim to half of his fortune?”

“I hadn’t given it any thought.”

“And I suppose you hadn’t given any thought to the fact that if Mr. Rawlings died you would have sole claim to his entire fortune.”

“Honestly, no.”

He then showed Claire a picture of an apartment house in Atlanta. “Do you recognize this building?”

“Yes.”

“I would assume you would. It is the apartment in which you lived prior to moving into Mr. Rawlings’s mansion. How big was your apartment?”

Claire hadn’t thought about that apartment in almost two years. “It was a one-bedroom with an eat-in kitchen.”

“Now, Mrs. Rawlings, do you recognize this residence?” It was an aerial photograph of the mansion. It showed the sprawling wings of the home, the pool, the long drive, the various patios, and the massive expenditure of land surrounding it all.

“Yes.”

“Yes, it is the home you and Mr. Rawlings shared. Is that correct?”

Claire wanted to be done with this. “Yes, it is”

“Mrs. Rawlings, how big is this house?”

“I don’t know. Do you mean in square feet?” She was becoming irritated.

“All right then. How many bedrooms?” Mr. Evergreen was smiling.

Claire thought about it for a minute. “Honestly, I don’t know. Do you want the staffs’ rooms counted too? I don’t know.”

“So let me get this straight. You have been held captive in this home for nearly two years and you don’t know how many bedrooms are there? Or perhaps you were enjoying the life of luxury too much to worry about such things?” Mr. Evergreen tapped his computer screen. “Well, let’s shift gears. Do you recognize yourself in this photo?” Claire nodded. “Can you please tell me where you are and what you are doing?”

“I am in Davenport, shopping.”

“You are shopping. But I thought you didn’t have any money?”

“Tony gave me a credit card.”

“Was this before or after you were married?”

“I believe that picture is before. But seriously, you don’t—”

Mr. Evergreen interrupted her. “Mrs. Rawlings, allow me to ask the questions. So Mr. Rawlings gave you a credit card before you were married. Who paid the bill?”

“He did.”

“Who is with you on this shopping trip?”

“Eric, Mr. Rawlings’s driver was there in the car.”

“So if you were a prisoner, wouldn’t this have been an excellent opportunity to escape? After all, you are all by yourself in Davenport. Mrs. Rawlings, did you try to escape?”

“No. I was afraid.”

“Stick to the yes and no answers.” Mr. Evergreen looked at his notes on the screen. “Did you only use your credit card in Davenport?”

“No.”

Mr. Evergreen showed some more pictures: Claire on Fifth Avenue in Manhattan, shopping at Saks Fifth Avenue in Chicago. “Mrs. Rawlings, did you use your credit card on these occasions?”

“Yes.”

“Where are you?” he asked, pointing at a photo.

“I am in Manhattan.”

“So you are shopping in Manhattan. The inhumanity of this prison! How much did you have to spend, or let me ask, do you know how much you spent on this particular shopping trip?”

Claire did. “Yes, I spent $ 5,000. But I was told to—”

“Mrs. Rawlings, let’s continue. Did you have a credit card once you were married?”

“Yes.”

“Did you ever have the opportunity to use it?”

“Yes.”

He was looking right at her. “This money thing wasn’t so bad now, was it?”

“I didn’t want the money. I don’t want the money. I told Tony that I didn’t care about his money—”

Showing Claire an e-mail address and telephone number, “Mrs. Rawlings do you recognize this e-mail address?”

“Yes.”

“It is yours. Is that correct?”

“Yes, it is, but—”

“Mrs. Rawlings, whose cell phone number is this?”

“Mine.”

“Mrs. Rawlings, I thought that you said you were isolated, no way to communicate. Let me see, I believe I have photos of you and your husband in Hawaii, Lake Tahoe, San Francisco, and yes, in Europe. Mrs. Rawlings, did you enjoy the south of France?” Claire’s head pounded with increasing intensity.

Mr. Evergreen went into a long tirade about how an unemployed weather girl deep in debt latched on to a lonely wealthy businessman with no heirs. This was an entrepreneur that not only made his fortune through hard work but was highly regarded due to his benevolent endeavors. She then seduced him into employing her as a live-in prostitute and lured him into marrying her without a prenuptial agreement. Given the perfect opportunity, this tawdry woman put poison into her poor unsuspecting husband’s coffee. If that wasn’t enough, sent his driver away on a wild-goose chase and drove away. It would have worked, except that with technology as it was, fifteen people witnessed the collapse and help arrived in time. The prosecution had many character witnesses that would testify to the generous spirit and good-heartedness of Mr. Rawlings. No one will back her slanderous accusations of this respectable man.

Hadn’t Claire been told over and over again that appearances were everything? The small room became smaller. Claire’s head hurt, her heart hurt. She saw the pictures and the expressions of her attorneys. She heard Marcus Evergreen’s accusations and tasted the sour bile as her stomach twisted and turned.

  We cannot change our memories, but we can change their meaning and the power they have over us. —David Seamands

 Chapter 50

He stared at the paint on the cinder block wall. Why did they always use that pale green? If it was supposed to look cheery, it failed. Anton continued to watch the wall even though he’d heard the door and knew the guard and prisoner had entered. He couldn’t bear to see his grandfather being led around.

Anton waited, hands in pockets, until he heard the door close again. Turning around, he met the eyes, the dark defiant eyes. If his grandfather were wearing a suit and if the metal table were a mahogany desk, Nathaniel would look like he did in Anton’s memory. His expression hadn’t changed. They may’ve put him in this damn prison, but they sure as hell weren’t keeping his mind here.

“So, boy, did you learn his identity?” Cole Mathews worked side by side with Nathaniel Rawls for almost two years. The day before Nathaniel’s arrest, he didn’t show for work. He didn’t call. He disappeared. Almost a year later, information that only insiders would know helped lead to Mr. Rawls’s conviction. The only released information was that an FBI agent had been embedded to investigate federal allegations. Of course, to protect his identity, his name was never released. But this was the eighties, and Anton Rawls knew his way around a computer better than most. Hacking was such a negative term for research.

Anton placed the manila folder in front of his grandfather. “Yes, sir. I found his name and enough personal information to track him down.”

“I knew you wouldn’t let me down.” He opened the folder and scanned the contents. “He has a wife and family.” He spent a few more minutes reading the pages. Then abruptly, he shut the folder, slamming his hand against the table. “This son of a bitch will pay!” His chair hit the wall as he forcefully stood. “Do you hear me, boy?”

“Yes, sir, I hear you.” Anton watched as his grandfather paced in his prison garb.

“Not just him. Hell, no. He took away my world. He took my family away. His damn kids, their kids, their kids . . . they will all face the consequences of his actions! He took everything.” Nathaniel’s eyes darkened as he moved closer to his grandson. “You know what?”

“No, sir.”

“You can’t lose everything until you have everything to lose.” More pacing. “I had everything, and now look at me! That man and his goddamn family will pay!” He moved very close to his grandson. “The day I get out of this hellhole, they will. Every one of them will regret the day he decided to bring me down.

Anton noticed the difference in the sound of their footsteps. His hard soled shoes made a distinctively different noise from his grandfather’s rubber soled shoes. They squeaked. “There is more, sir.” Nathaniel turned toward his grandson’s words.

“What? What more did you learn?”

“He had help. He worked hand in hand with a securities officer named Burke. Mathews fed Burke the information. If this securities officer hadn’t directed Mathews, he wouldn’t have been as thorough in collecting evidence.” Anton watched the shade of his grandfather’s face grow in crimson intensity as he spoke.

“And your father?” The blackness of Nathaniel’s eyes pulled Anton’s gaze to him. He felt compelled to maintain eye contact and surrender the rest of his information.

“He testified for the state.” Nathaniel’s pacing continued. “It was done behind closed doors, but it isn’t secret. The media calls him the hero in our family.”

Nathaniel collapsed red faced and defeated into his chair. The realization that his son had turned state’s witness was obviously affecting him. His tone mellowed. “Boy, you will survive.”

“Yes, sir, I will.”

“Being here today, discovering this information, and most importantly having the balls to bring it to me are all evidence of your future. Your father has always been a disappointment, but I believe he was better at one thing than me.” Anton sat in the metal chair facing his grandfather. There was sincerity in his tone and words, he asked Nathaniel to go on. “Public opinion, I never gave a damn what anyone thought. I worked hard and deserved all the money and possessions. I wanted more. That was never a secret. Remember this, you can want the whole goddamn world but never show it.” Nathaniel stared up at the camera in the corner of the room. “If they know what you want, they’ll watch you and take it away. Keep up appearances, boy. If you do that, you can take everything you want, the whole damn world is yours.”