by Sydney Bauer
Barbara went on. ‘I know it seems like the obvious answer, but the boy is very smart, articulate. There was not one suggestion of exaggeration or understatement on his part. He knows exactly what he is saying and does so with confidence and assuredness, and the ADA’s experts will find exactly the same thing when they pick him to pieces – which they will, by the way.’
David nodded, not having expected anything less.
‘You have to understand,’ Barbara continued after both Sara and Arthur had also nodded, indicating for her to go on, ‘that these observations are only preliminary, and I’ll need more time to listen to the recording and pore over his unusual responses to the great majority of our questions. But, first and foremost, the boy shows classic signs of being the victim of emotional abuse – and if I am right, he has been subject to such abuse since the day he was born.’
‘And you know this because . . .’ prompted Arthur.
‘Because his interview was littered with indicators that show us J.T. was under the abuser’s continuous control.’ Barbara removed her frameless glasses before moving on.
‘First up, there was the thing with the homework times. Not hour blocks or half-hour blocks or even quarter-hour blocks – but shifting allotments scheduled down to the second. This is a classic example of a victim being subject to unusual demands by the abuser purely so that the oppressor might assert their control. The abuser may not gain anything materially from enforcing such demands, but he or she does consolidate their role as the dominant force in the household by dictating the victim’s schedule, day in, day out.’
‘So it’s a power thing,’ said Sara.
‘Exactly. The specific dinner time was another example and the effectiveness of the controller’s dominance is evident in J.T.’s complete disregard of the notion that he and his sister might not adhere to guidelines the abuser has no doubt set for them since birth.’
‘They have no concept of rebellion,’ suggested Arthur.
‘That’s right.’ Barbara nodded. ‘Which makes this whole murder thing kind of hokey, don’t you think?’
It was an odd question but David could see where she was going. ‘If Stephanie was the abuser as Logan claims, then why would J.T. retaliate now?’ he asked. ‘Logan claimed it was because he overheard his conversation with Stephanie requesting a divorce, but J.T. was clear that he was studying the mechanics of the rifle on Tuesday so . . .’
‘Right again. So if we discount Logan’s “divorce” theory, why exactly did J.T. choose last Friday night to rebel . . . or did he rebel at all?’
No one said anything. Barbara’s question hung like an unattainable ‘truth’ hidden in a dark and heavy shadow above them, close enough to feel but not clear enough to see.
‘Look,’ she said then. ‘First up, J.T.’s approach to the entire murder is very clinical, right down to the extensive knowledge of the specifics of the rifle and the magazine she was reading when she took a bullet to the chest. He spoke of “intent” rather than desire or need or anger or regret. It was almost like it was a job that needed to be done – another request at his abuser’s bidding.’
And still they said nothing, willing the child psychologist to go on.
‘Not once did J.T. name his abuser. He said he killed his mother because she was his parent – not because she was in charge of him, but because she wasn’t. Now at first you good attorneys here might guess that this was the boy’s way of expressing his anger at his mother for not intervening to put an end to his father’s abuse, but I don’t think that is the case. I think he was trying to tell us that he was doing what he had always been forced to do – follow the instructions of the parent who was in charge. And this instruction just happened to involve the destruction of the one that wasn’t.’
‘And now he is too terrified to talk because his sister is still in the care of their abuser,’ said Sara.
‘His affection and concern for his sister was obvious,’ said Barbara. ‘I would suggest, with their mother gone, that the two children are holding on to each other for grim death – which is extremely difficult, under the circumstances.’
They paused as Nora entered to pour them another coffee, and Barbara took a sip before going on. ‘So, I know what you are all thinking: is this enough to nail Logan? And the answer is an irrefutable . . .’
‘No,’ said a frustrated David, knowing there was no way this sort of behavioural speculation would be enough to ‘outrank’ the physical evidence in court.
‘That’s right,’ said Barbara. ‘But it does give us something to work on. And there is something else – something a little more concrete that . . .’ She hesitated, as if wondering whether she should even voice her next observation, perhaps for fear of giving the three people in front of her any semblance of false hope.
‘What is it, Barbara?’ asked David. ‘Please, we need to know anything, everything that can help us help J.T.’
Barbara nodded. ‘Well, I hesitate because in many ways what I am about to suggest screws your client as much as it exonerates him – especially given the nature of what you tell me is confirmed in this morning’s forensics report.’
Joe had called early with the details of Martinelli’s report – and the three of them had shared the information with Barbara.
‘But, I found it extremely interesting,’ Barbara went on, ‘that he remembers shooting his mother, but has removed himself completely from the much less violent “preparation” stage.’
‘You mean getting the key, the rifle, the bullets and so forth,’ said Arthur.
‘Yes,’ she said, pushing her shoulder-length black hair behind her right ear. ‘In most cases – in fact, in every case I have been involved with that involves memory losses – the child blocks out the most visually distressing element of the crime. In J.T.’s case, the explosion of the weapon and the resultant annihilation of his mother’s form before him.
‘But he described that stage clearly. His lapses fall before that, during a time where he was not exposed to any visual or auditory chaos.’
‘But couldn’t the ADA argue that such a lapse was just a case of J.T. feeling guilty for his role in putting it all together?’ suggested David. ‘Correct me if I am wrong, but couldn’t Carmichael get another shrink to argue J.T. blocked out the “before” because in his mind it led him to the “during” and the “after”.’
But Barbara was already shaking her head. ‘No, it doesn’t work that way,’ she explained. ‘And any psychologist worth his or her salt knows it. If a child wishes to block out an event, an event he or she is not yet ready to deal with, they will normally jump from a time when all was well, to a time when everything was over. But J.T. described the “during” and the “after” in great detail.
‘You have to remember that this young boy has been brought up in a household where order, where chronology, where timing meant everything. So it is highly unusual that he did not relay the details of the preparation as part of the initial sequence of events.’
‘Because if his consciousness allowed him to cope with the high degree of trauma that the murder invoked . . .’ began Sara.
‘. . . then talking about the preparation stage should have been a walk in the park,’ finished Barbara.
‘Then why the hell didn’t he list those movements immediately prior to the shooting?’ asked David. ‘Or, more to the point, repeat what he had been told to say by the person who was ultimately responsible?’
‘Because, in my opinion, J.T. never prepared for anything – and as for his failure to regurgitate what he had been coached, well . . .’ Barbara took a breath. ‘I can’t be certain but I think our boy just made his first act of rebellion against his real abuser.’
‘He refused to regurgitate his father’s version of events,’ said Sara.
‘He’s finally getting up the courage to stand up to him,’ said David.
‘I hope so, David,’ said Barbara. ‘More than anything, for J.T.’s sake, I really hope so.’
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nbsp; 35
‘Katherine, you need to listen to me,’ said Logan. They were in her office – a tastefully decorated enclave mere metres from The Doctor Jeff Show set. The blinds were up, allowing the midday sun to streak into the room, and Jeffrey was pacing across the coffee-coloured carpet, his brown eyes squinting every time he turned towards the window.
‘This is J.T.’s future we are talking about. The papers are already labelling him a psychopath, and unless we do something about it, well . . .’
‘But you heard what Cavanaugh said,’ replied an uneasy de Castro, her hands lifting to her crisp white shirt collar. She had not worn the necklace, unable to bring herself to actually put it on, and she was wondering if he had noticed that her neck was bare.
‘He said we had to sit tight, that we had to plan our approach to the media carefully, thoroughly. There are legal implications here, Jeffrey. You just can’t come out and . . .’
‘And what?’ said Logan then, his arms flying up in frustration. ‘Tell the world the truth?’
He shook his head and started pacing again. ‘Cavanaugh is a skilled attorney, Katherine, but you have to remember that we inherited him by default when he was called to my home by the police – who are set on sending my son to prison.
‘Secondly, he was friends with my wife – good friends. And while I would like to think the best of him, you and I both know that he has doubts about Stephanie’s true character – or lack thereof.’
‘But he seems dedicated to J.T., Jeffrey, and he . . .’
‘. . . may not have what it takes to see this through,’ interrupted Logan. ‘In fact, just last night I sought advice from another extremely qualified attorney who I am sure will be more than able to put his own personal opinions aside to . . .’ And then Logan met her eye, and perhaps read the disapproval on her face.
‘I’m sorry, Katherine,’ he said as he stopped pacing, his shoulders now sagging in defeat. ‘It is just that, if only I hadn’t asked for the divorce, if only J.T. hadn’t overheard me . . . this is all my fault!’
He collapsed in her calf-skinned visitor’s chair, and de Castro, despite a nagging instinct to remain behind her desk, rose from her seat to approach him.
‘Jeffrey, you have to stop blaming yourself,’ she said, perching awkwardly on the edge of her desk so that she might place her hand on his shoulder. To her shock he grabbed it, he took it and squeezed it – hard – in an action which she was sure was meant to portray . . . gratitude?
‘You did everything you could to protect your children. But . . . my point is . . . despite your reservations, Cavanaugh has an extremely good reputation and we have to take his advice seriously. We may understand the worlds of psychology and television, Jeffrey, but we are not experienced attorneys skilled in the nuances of the law.’
‘But don’t you see, Katherine,’ Logan said, looking up at her, finally releasing her hand so that she might take the second visitors’ seat beside him. ‘That is exactly why we have to act – and quickly. We know how the psyche of this country works, and we know TV – in fact we know talk TV better than ninety-nine per cent of the country.
‘Over the years I have been so lucky, so privileged to reach so many people with my show. I have seen them, Katherine, I have seen my guests gaze into my eyes with such awe and adulation that I may just as well have told them how to split the atom, or cure cancer, or reverse the effects of the global warming as work out how to all get on together. I have this power, Katherine, and the ability to reach millions with it – and if I cannot use it to help my son then . . .’
Katherine sensed that despite her concerns, this was not something Jeffrey was going to give up on. ‘You want to do a special version of The Doctor Jeff Show,’ she said then.
‘Yes,’ he looked at her, his eyes as wide as a doe’s.
‘But we have been removed from air temporarily, Jeffrey. Allen thinks, and I agree, that until we work out where this thing is going . . .’
‘You think Allen Greenburg will hesitate one second when he hears what we are proposing?’
Now it was ‘we’.
‘I . . . no,’ she said, knowing the network CEO would jump at such a proposal. ‘But we have to be careful here, Jeffrey. This cannot look like a one-hour pity party. Your closeness to this issue leaves you open for criticism. Your views will automatically be judged as prejudiced and no matter how understandable that may be, in the end it could negate our cause.’
‘So we bring in an independent party,’ he said, and Katherine realised he had thought this through.
‘We bring in an unbiased interviewer – someone with a solid reputation in news and current affairs. And this person, she acts as our conduit to tell J.T.’s story – she shows the world that video tape and exposes Stephanie for the tyrant that she really was.’
In that moment Katherine felt an uneasiness which came with her suspicion that Jeffrey had planned to involve her all along. ‘You want to ask Croft to run the interview.’
‘I want her to launch J.T.’s case in self-defence. I want her to present the facts plainly, clearly and without prejudice to an America – a Massachusetts – that houses our jury, the ones who will decide my son’s fate.’
‘And your role will be . . . ?’
‘To be me – a grieving, caring father placed in the most horrible of circumstances, a learned physician who, despite his best efforts, failed to protect his own. I have done my best, Katherine, but I am only human after all – and my audience will see this and understand, and their hearts will go out to me and my daughter and, most of all, to my son who finally had the courage to act.’
Katherine said nothing, simply lifted her smooth olive-skinned hand and rubbed her forehead before looking at her ‘partner’ once again. ‘You want to try this case on TV before it gets a chance to reach the courtroom,’ said Katherine.
‘No. I want to win this case before it leaves our control.’
‘And Cavanaugh?’ she asked.
‘Don’t worry about Cavanaugh, Katherine,’ he replied, that famous smile now spreading across his equally as famous face. ‘Just leave Cavanaugh to me.’
In 1974, an American psychology student by the name of Scott Fraser undertook an experiment in basic human behaviour to discover if anonymity encouraged aggression. Fraser, who studied under Philip G. Zimbardo from Stanford University’s respected Psychology Department, wanted to see if human beings in their purest form would feel more comfortable with behaving aggressively if their identity was concealed – thus giving them the ‘freedom’ to act without social repercussions.
And so he chose children as his subjects, and Halloween costumes as his props, organising an experimental ‘party’ where a teacher gave the children a series of games to play – half were non-aggressive and half were confrontational in nature. Initially, while the games were played, the teacher said the costumes were on the way so they would start the fun while waiting. Then the costumes arrived and were worn as the games continued. Finally, the costumes were removed to go to other children in other parties, and the games went on for the third phase, each phase lasting for about an hour.
The data collected was a striking testimony to the power of anonymity. Aggression increased significantly as soon as the costumes were worn, more than doubling from the initial base level average. But when the costumes were removed, aggression dropped back well below the initial level base rate.
Logan knew this was only one study on the influence of anonymity on aggression. Other research on the history of war showed that soldiers or ‘warriors’ who altered their appearance prior to battle – with war paint or masks or the like – were much more likely to torture or mutilate or slay their victims. Psychologists note that it becomes much easier for a human being to injure, to harm, to kill, if they first change their appearance, for anonymity has the ability to alter the usual internal focus of compassion and concern – so that they can act without repercussion, and often without regret.
Now, Logan
realised, as he sat at the crowded outdoor café in Boston’s famous Quincy Marketplace, that some experts might argue that his ‘mask’ had been worn for so long that it had relinquished its ability to provide anonymity. That indeed, his façade was so famous, so recognisable, that it had taken on a life of its own – reversing the effect of the previous studies on ‘anonymity’ and its ability to ‘cloister the beast’. But they would be irrefutably wrong. For Logan’s cleverly constructed veneer not only provided him with the perfect ‘cover’ to exercise his insatiable desire to ‘control’, it also gave him an identity that quite literally deflected any possibility of impropriety. In other words, the public loved him – and any suggestion Jeffrey Logan could be capable of the things that he was, was well . . . beyond ridiculous and outright insulting.
Which is why, after leaving Katherine de Castro’s office (his business partner had been quickly and easily cajoled, just as he knew she would be), he had called his son’s attorneys and asked for one of them to meet him here, in this frenetic tourist-riddled ‘circus’. And he had chosen said attorney so that he might do what he did best: play his learned little game of psychological chess using one seemingly weaker piece to force the demise of its superior.
For despite Cavanaugh’s naive assumption that Logan had no idea what he was up to, the good doctor was not only aware of the moralistic attorney’s covert attempts to use his children to build a case against him (his efforts to keep him away from his son, his co-counsel’s visit to his daughter, had been nothing short of pathetic), but also of his recent efforts to dig for ‘evidence’ he had no business unearthing. Carleton Blackmore’s messages had told him as much and, in all honesty, despite Logan’s justifiable level of confidence, the attorney was really starting to piss him off.