THE VIRTUOUS CON

by Maren Foster

  “Wyn! So glad to have you here today.”

  “Thanks. I’m really glad to be here.”

  “Let’s talk about that ‘me too’ bombshell you just dropped,” she said. “Why did you turn to social media to expose your husband, Nathan Ellis?”

  “I did it because I felt like I had no other choice. I did it after I found out that he probably wouldn’t serve any real time in prison for what he did to me. I lost faith in the justice system when I heard that and so I turned to social media because I felt empowered by the stories that other women have been sharing.”

  “This is a little bit different than many of the other allegations coming out now though, isn’t it? You posted a video of the assault, right?”

  “There’s also DNA evidence linking him directly to the crime. I don’t know what more a woman needs to get a fair shake these days. Maybe a live confession?”

  She nodded. “Right. But seriously, some people are saying that the video could have been staged and it’s difficult to tell if it’s even you in the recording.”

  “The video is authentic. I told him no. I barely knew him, we were at a party and I told him no, but he didn’t listen. If you listen closely you can hear it on the tape. No means no,” I said. “Nate Ellis raped me.”

  “Wyn, what would justice look like for you now?”

  “That’s a great question. I just want him to be held accountable for what he did. I want him to be locked up so that he can’t do this to other women,” I said.

  “Wyn, how long has it been since the rape and why didn’t you come forward sooner?”

  “It was six years ago, and I did come forward right away. I filed a police report and provided evidence the day of the assault.”

  “Why was he never arrested then or charged?”

  “I don’t know. The police said they would investigate my claims but I never heard back from them. I told them everything I knew at the time,” I lied.

  “Wyn, are you saying that the police neglected to investigate your claims?”

  It was completely silent in the studio. Eyes watched me from behind cameras and curtains, and tucked out of sight, off stage. The silence and the weight of the unwavering attention made me feel exposed, isolated, and alone. I knew that in going public I would open myself up to the entire world, and would no longer be operating under the radar. I knew that the stakes would be much higher moving forward and that everything I did from now on would be scrutinized in the public domain, but I didn’t realize how quickly I would feel completely alienated. I had given up my anonymity and privacy to get even, and as I sat there, I prayed that I wouldn’t come to regret my decision.

  “I don’t know what the police did or didn’t do. I just know that I never heard back. I didn’t get the feeling that they believed it was a serious, credible accusation, or that Nate was a real threat. They kept asking me how much I’d been drinking that night and whether I had led anyone on.”

  “Oh my,” she said. “Wyn, I think the question that everyone is really dying to ask is why you ended up married to your rapist years after you filed that report and why you didn’t get the police involved earlier?”

  I looked down at my hands and then back up at the host. “I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I had nightmares. I saw him everywhere. In my sleep, in my dreams. He haunted me and ruined my life. The rape played over and over again in my head, and yet I was so ashamed that I couldn’t talk about it. I couldn’t tell the people I loved for fear that they would blame me. I retraced every moment of that evening over and over again, wondering if I hadn’t done just one thing differently, if I would have been spared. I wondered if it was my fault that he raped me. When I heard the songs that were playing when it happened, I lost it. I couldn’t trust anyone. I began having panic attacks. I needed some closure, but I didn’t know how to get it.”

  “What do you mean by closure?”

  “At first I just wanted to know more about him. More about this person who could do such a thing to me and then just disappear from my life. I needed to make sense of it. I needed to understand why he had done it. Maybe I wanted to know that something was wrong with him, so that I could forgive myself. Let myself breathe deeply again. Find a reason to let the guilt and shame go. I tried therapy first but that didn’t work, so eventually, I figured out who he was and tracked him down.”

  She nodded. “Wow.”

  “I wasn’t sure what I was going to do once I found him, I didn’t have a plan. I just knew I needed to get close enough to understand why he did what he did and what was wrong with him. At first I just observed him, but then we began to interact.”

  “Did he recognize you?”

  “No. He didn’t recognize me and he didn’t seem to have changed at all. I was devastated and weak from what had happened and he seemed totally unaffected. Strong and confident even. We began spending more time together, which was really difficult for me at first, but the more time I spent with him the easier it was and the more dependent I became actually. He is a very charismatic guy. I don’t want to say manipulative, but he definitely knows how to get what he wants, and when he is happy, he’s actually incredible to be around. He only gets aggressive or violent when he is told ‘no’, so I just did whatever he wanted. I felt like I had to in order to get what I needed, which was an understanding of why it had all happened. I consistently felt like I was close and would find the key to what had happened and then I’d be able to walk away.”

  “Really?” Her look conveyed skepticism.

  “Yes, there’s actually a name for when a person starts to have feelings of trust or even affection for an abuser. It’s like Stockholm Syndrome, except it’s called trauma bonding when it’s someone you know. I spent enough time with him trying to understand what had happened, that I grew comfortable. And then slowly, over the years, he took away everything that made me confident, self-sufficient, and independent. I didn’t know how to be those things anymore and I was scared of leaving or going to the police. I felt trapped, and I know it sounds a little crazy, because I put myself in that situation, but I really never thought it was possible to become so dependent on someone who hurt you.”

  She shook her head.

  “Wyn, it still begs a question about your intentions. Some people would say that on top of being married to your rapist, it looks very suspicious from the outside that you’ve come forward now that he is a highly successful businessman who has a lot to lose?”

  “I understand how it might look, but I was really scared when it first happened. I was young and I had a lot to lose. He used that to silence me. The morning of the rape he threatened me and told me that if I ever went public he would destroy me. I knew other young women who had been broken trying to get justice the right way and came out the other end with nothing but open, public wounds, and spoiled reputations. I wasn’t ready for that. I felt all alone and I didn’t think I could handle going through public scrutiny at the time. He would have just said that I was a slut and that I got what I wanted. It became clear to me that a victim doesn’t win when they go through the formal justice system.”

  “Wyn,” she said. “What about now? What is your intention now?”

  “Look, I’ve been a Christian from a young age, and I want to be able to forgive him and move on, but no matter how much I’ve prayed, I just haven’t been able to, so the only thing left is justice. I want the world to see him for who he really is and I want everyone who meets him to be able to judge him fairly for what he has done.”

  “Wyn, have you given up on the judicial system entirely at this point?”

  “No, I hope that the prosecutors change their mind and he gets the sentence he deserves, but I have to admit I’m not very optimistic at this point.”

  “Well, thank you Wyn, for sharing your story with us today. We know it is difficult for you to talk so openly about what happened.”

  “Thank you.”

  A young woman removed my microphone and escorted me back to the
dressing room.

  A few hours later, as I was preparing dinner, my phone rang. Hmmmm, 312 is Chicago. I hesitated but decided to answer.

  “Hello?”

  “Wynafreda Laurent?”

  “Yes.”

  “My name is Scott Weiss. I’m calling from the Cook County State’s Attorney’s Office.”

  Interesting timing. Did they hear about my interview? “Hello.”

  “You signed a criminal report on June, 22, 2012 regarding an alleged rape that occurred on June 9, 2012?”

  “Yes, that’s correct.”

  “As you are aware, a new lead has prompted us to reopen that case.”

  “Yes!”

  “I see that you spoke with Detective Wilshire on March 19th and then you met with a Detective Donaldson in Connecticut a few days later.”

  “Yes.”

  “There is a note in your file that you requested a meeting with the prosecutor.”

  “Mmmm hmmmm.”

  “We would like to meet with you to gather more information for our case and discuss our process.”

  “Sure. Yes. Does that mean the plea deal isn’t final?”

  “I can’t comment on that at this point, Ma’am. Would you be willing to come to Chicago for an interview?”

  “Yes. Absolutely.”

  “Great. I have some availability on Tuesday afternoon, the 10th. Does that work?”

  “Yeah sure, that should work.”

  “Two p.m. Daley Center.”

  “Okay. Thank you.”

  He hung up.

  I texted Vi, “Need to be in Chicago next week. Can I stay with you?”

  I flipped open my laptop and looked for flights.

  Vi replied, “Of course! Can’t wait to see you. When do you get in?”

  “Tuesday morning. Fly out Thursday.”

  “Great. You’ll have to take a cab in from the airport though. I’m tied up at work on Tuesday morning.”

  “No problem. Thanks”

  The Breakdown

  Thursday, April 5, 2018

  Old Greenwich

  Simon called early but I didn’t answer and he didn’t leave a message. He must have seen the show or my social media post. Either way, he has to know by now, which means Nate knows. I wasn’t about to call him back to find out.

  After noon my phone rang again. It was a New York City number. I answered.

  “Wyn Ellis?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Megan Helmsley with the CBS Morning Show. We want you to come in for an interview. We’re doing a show devoted to the impacts of the #metoo movement on ordinary women.”

  “It’s Wyn Laurent actually, but yes, of course. Just let me know when and where to be.”

  “Be at 30 Rock tomorrow morning at 6:30am. Just check in with security. Your name will be on the list.”

  “Just make sure you list me as Wynafreda Laurent. L-A-U-R-E-N-T.”

  “Got it. Thanks!” she said and hung up.

  National news! This will be the nail in the coffin!

  The next morning I applied what I thought was an appropriate amount of make-up, and put on one of my ‘I’m a credible rape victim’ outfit. I made an espresso and hit the road.

  The traffic was still surprisingly light heading into New York City, but it was only a matter of time. I pulled into a parking garage off 50th, checked my make-up and headed out into the fomenting chaos that was a weekday morning in Manhattan; dodging distracted professionals, gaping tourists, and hawkish street vendors on my way to 30 Rock.

  I checked in with a security guard at the front desk.

  “Follow-me young lady,” he said and tapped his key card on a turn style behind a long bank of elevators. I walked through and looked back expecting additional instructions but he was gone. I wandered down the hallway aimlessly until I heard my name. I followed a runner to the guest waiting area, where a few other young women were already sitting. As I applied a little more make up some of them began to chat. It was clear, as I listened, that they were meeting for the first time, but they seemed to already know each other’s stories. Eventually we were all led backstage.

  “Up next, a group of young women who have all used the ‘me too’ hashtag to expose powerful men,” one of the hosts announced. They didn’t say this was a group interview. I guess it’s better than nothing. The crowd clapped and a few women in the audience even cheered.

  During the commercial break we were led on stage and told where to sit. The live studio audience applauded on queue. I sat up straight and smiled, trying not to look nervous.

  “Ladies, we’re so glad to have you on the show this morning.”

  We all nodded. “Glad to be here.”

  “Of course, we wish you were here under different circumstances. You have all been victims of sexual assault or rape. Correct?”

  We nodded. “Yes.”

  “And you have all used the ‘me too’ hashtag to expose your attackers.”

  We nodded again.

  “Let me start with you, Megan.”

  The hosts took turns asking each of us questions about our specific experiences. It became clear as the women shared snippets of their stories that we each represented a different phase in the process of exposing our assailants. One woman was among the early wave of women to use the hashtag but had run into resistance and setbacks trying to get her claims taken seriously by authorities. Another woman had a more recent story of success, and her use of the hashtag had resulted in an arrest.

  “Wyn, you recently posted a video that you say is evidence that your husband, Nathan Ellis, raped you. Why did you decide to go public now and what do you hope will come of your use of the ‘me too’ hashtag?”

  “I posted the video right after learning that he was negotiating a plea deal with the District Attorney that would see him released from prison in the coming weeks. Obviously, posting a video that personal is extremely difficult, and I wish I didn’t have to do it, but I also didn’t feel like I had any other choice. House arrest doesn’t seem like it fits the crime.”

  “Wyn, of all the women here today, you have one of the longer gaps between when you say your rape occurred and when you used the ‘me too’ hashtag. Why did you wait all these years to come forward and do you worry about how that might look to skeptics?”

  “I can see now that by waiting to publicly accuse him I gave people reason to question the authenticity of my claims, but I did come forward when it originally happened. I filed a police report immediately. I had a rape kit done. I just wasn’t ready to risk my future back then. I was young and scared. I was in college and needed to get a job. I had so much to lose, but I still had the rape kit done and talked to the police, so it’s not like this is the first time I’m accusing him. I didn’t show up out of nowhere, claiming that he raped me for the first time. There’s a police report, there’s DNA evidence, and there’s video evidence.”

  He nodded and let me continue, “The truth is that some people will never believe us, no matter how much evidence there is. They just want to tear us down at any cost because they’re afraid. They’re afraid of what is happening. They’re afraid that they won’t be able to hide anymore behind excuses, and victim blaming, and slut shaming. They’re afraid that for the first time in history we are really being heard, and not immediately discounted and swept under the rug. For the first time, women are being taken seriously, and treated like people whose experiences matter.” My voice waivered as I fought back tears. I finally understood the feelings that had, for so many years, motivated Vi and Ali.

  Another host spoke up. “But Wyn, some people would argue that if we are too quick to believe every woman who comes forward accusing a guy of rape then we put too much power in the hands of women who may be lying, be it for money, or fame. Some people say that this might fundamentally change the dynamic between men and women, doing harm to the trust that exists in our society today, and destroying reputations that do not deserve to be destroyed. What is your take on that?”


  Now we are scared of the changes that may come to a system that has historically treated women like property, undermined their ability to be self-sufficient at every turn, and placed the burden of proof on them when they are victimized?

  I shook my head. “I’m not advocating that we take at face value everything every accuser says. I’m asking that we listen and ask the tough questions about the accused that we haven’t even asked before. There will always be people looking to take advantage of an opportunity, but the more open we are, the more transparent as a society, and the more supportive we are of victims, the more victims will be willing to come forward immediately. That will mean that we can collect the evidence and ask the tough questions right away, when memories are still fresh, and evidence is still obtainable. If this happens, it will actually be harder for someone to accuse someone else falsely years later, because there will be no excuse for not coming forward immediately. If victims can trust in the justice system and the process, and believe that they will get a fair shake if they report assault or abuse immediately using the appropriate channels, then we will know that anyone who puts forth an accusation years after an alleged assault, whether through the news media, or on social media, is a fake. In my opinion this is the only way that we can protect victims while also safeguarding our society against false accusations.”