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my reading; it was my turn to read that night. I’d just started when the detectives showed up.” She leaned toward Southerlyn and jabbed at the tabletop. “Well, it didn’t take me long to know what had happened.”
“And that was?”
“She’d killed herself. That bastard Rosserman strung her along, used her, then told her to take her book and get lost.”
“So you called him?”
Patterson hesitated. “Yes. How did you know? The next Monday. I told him he was responsible for her death. He said he had nothing to do with it and he acted surprised. I said he’d been stringing her along, meeting her at the Waterloo, and I might just tell his wife. He said he wasn’t married, and then he said he hadn’t seen her for some time.”
“Did he say how long?” Southerlyn met McCoy’s eyes. Rosserman had admitted he was in the Waterloo with Chesko a few nights before Patterson called.
“No.”
Patterson hesitated.
“Does my presence make you uncomfortable, Mrs.
Patterson?” asked McCoy.
“No.”
“Did Rosserman say anything else in his phone call?”
“I did most of the talking after that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I told him I had a book and it was a damn good book.”
McCoy’s jaw dropped.
“You blackmailed him?” asked Serena.
“It’s not blackmail,” said Patterson. “I told him I wanted him to read it.”
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“And you didn’t suggest that you might expose his relationship with her? You’d already threatened to tell his wife, when you thought he had a wife.”
“You think it’s easy to get a publisher to read your book? You send the thing in and it comes back the next day with a preprinted slip telling you they don’t look at unsolicited manuscripts, or that it ‘doesn’t fit their needs.’ I didn’t threaten him with anything.”
“You just let it hang in the air.”
“He was responsible for her being dead. It’s the same as murder. You ought to charge him with murder.”
“We believe it was a suicide.”
“I don’t. But, he’s too much of a wimp to kill anybody with his own hands, anyway.”
“So he looked at your book? And it was then he sent you to McDonald.”
She shook her head. “No. He stalled for a while and said he was waiting for the right moment to bring it before the editorial board. Then he was fired.”
“So how did you meet McDonald?”
“He told me if I kept quiet about his relationship with Barbara, he’d set me up with the same editor who had worked on Barbara’s book. I asked him what good that would do. Her book hadn’t gone anywhere.
He told me he would get them to do the work for half price, maybe even free.”
Southerlyn winced. McCoy grabbed his head. “He did this knowing that Redux was a phony. Unbeliev-able!”
“Didn’t he realize it wouldn’t take long for you to figure out that Redux was a scam?” said Southerlyn.
“But it wasn’t, at least not for me. Avery actually rewrote parts of the book.”
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“Well, that’s a novelty.”
“I offered to be a witness at the trial, but he said it would be better to keep our arrangement a secret.”
Southerlyn winced again. “Wait a minute, Mrs.
Patterson. Mrs. Atterby told us you were raped. Did McDonald rape you?”
“Yes. Sort of.”
“Would you mind explaining that?”
“I won’t press charges.”
“Just explain it,” said Southerlyn.
“Bob called Redux and Avery called me. He sugges -
ted we meet at a Starbucks in midtown. He said he could see there were real possibilities in my book. He said he had worked very closely with Barbara, had even spent two full weekends in a cabin trying to work out the knots in her manuscript. He said they became very close, but she didn’t really have the talent and she wasn’t entirely cooperative in the editorial changes he had suggested.”
“Did he say they were lovers?”
“No. I knew she had been with Bob, but not with Avery.”
“I guess this is what she meant by being freer than a woman is supposed to be,” said McCoy.
“Like a man with two girlfriends?” said Southerlyn.
“Later,” continued Patterson, “I kind of sensed they had been to bed when Avery said that he and Monica had an open marriage and nothing could separate them.”
“And you became intimate with McDonald?”
She shifted uneasily. “He came to my apartment to discuss the manuscript. He forced himself on me.”
“What do you mean?”
“He grabbed me by the shoulders and forced a kiss 286
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on me. I turned my face away and he said he knew what I wanted. I tried to pull away and we ended up on the floor. He reached under my skirt and ripped off my panties.”
“I’m sorry,” said Southerlyn.
Patterson blinked. “Look, you think Richmond cared about when I wanted it or how? Sure, I cried.
Avery told me he didn’t know what had come over him. There was something about me. And so on.”
“You didn’t scream?”
“Not really.”
“Were you afraid of him?”
“A little. No. Not really.”
Southerlyn’s spine straightened. “Are you telling us this was consensual?”
“No. I didn’t want to. It hurt.”
“Did you make it clear to him that you didn’t want to?”
“I said no, but I didn’t really resist.”
“In what sense was this a rape then?”
“Just that I didn’t want to.”
McCoy and Southerlyn looked at each other then at Patterson. Finally she spoke. “Look,” said Patterson,
“I hadn’t had sex for six years. It wasn’t good, but a couple of weeks later he called and said he had done more on the manuscript. He apologized. He brought me a box of Italian cookies. I let him do it again.”
“And exactly how many times did you let him ‘do it’?” asked Southerlyn.
“Four. Not including the first time.”
“Thank you for coming in,” said Southerlyn.
“Wait,” said McCoy. “You don’t want to press charges, Mrs. Patterson, and you can see we’d have 287
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a difficult time at best in making a charge stick even if you testified.”
“It’s sick, okay?” she shouted. “I was lonely. He was going to help me with my novel.”
Southerlyn stared, but McCoy approached her and spoke quietly. “He made you believe you were trading sex for publication.”
“He didn’t say that specifically.”
“He took advantage of you,” said McCoy. “He’s a victimizer. He did that to Barbara Chesko and who knows who else. You can’t blame yourself.”
“I don’t have to like myself for it.”
“Your anger should be pointed at him,” said McCoy.
“Will you do something for us? I know we can’t make a rape case out of this without your cooperation. And we probably would lose even with it. So that’s your choice, no matter how distasteful that is to me. But, you know what Mrs. Patterson? I certainly intend to use this information to inflict some pain on him.”
Southerlyn abruptly looked up. “Jack? What are you thinking?”
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JACK MCCOY’S OFFICE
ONE HOGAN PLACE
MONDAY, MARCH 10, 8:32 A.M.
The McDonalds sat in their chairs, glaring at McCoy. Avery twisting his sporty cane with a pewter knob. The jewel in the pin securing his tie had fallen out of its setting. Monica wore her usual jeans and a worn leather jacket with “Kerouac” embroidered on the back.
; Southerlyn crossed her legs to distract McDonald and to irritate Monica, as Leo Herlihy shook McCoy’s hand and nodded with a smile in Southerlyn’s direction. “Jack,” he said, “if this is about the civil suit I really shouldn’t be here. Avery and Monica are going to get a good litigator.”
“This isn’t about the civil action,” said McCoy, “and, in fact, they might consider getting separate attorneys for both the civil action and the criminal action.”
“We are a team,” sneered Monica. “We don’t need separate attorneys.”
Herlihy put a hand up to silence her. “Criminal action?”
“New evidence has come to light. The charges directly affect Mr. McDonald, but may have a ripple effect on Mrs. McDonald’s case.”
“Don’t try to put us at each other’s throats!” said 289
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Avery McDonald. “We’ve survived everything you’ve thrown at us and anything you intend to throw at us.
Our love is inviolable!”
McCoy raised his eyebrows.
“Relax, Avery,” said Herlihy. “What new charges?
I can’t believe you’d reopen that worthless grand larceny case!”
“Maybe it isn’t so worthless.”
Herlihy sat back and smiled. “I get it. You’re going to keep throwing charges until you break them. Civil lawyers, criminal lawyers. You’re using the state to bankrupt them.”
“Are you behind the IRS thing?” said McDonald.
“IRS?” said McCoy. “They’re sniffing at you?”
“Don’t play innocent with me,” said McDonald.
“Be quiet, Avery!” said Herlihy. “It’s a routine tax inquiry, Jack.”
“Well, good luck with it,” said McCoy. “Let’s hope you don’t need a tax attorney, too.”
“You revive those criminal charges, Jack, and I’ll have a judge throw them out. The city will be looking at a major lawsuit, and maybe for another Executive Assistant D.A.”
“The charges weren’t thrown out the last time and they won’t be this time. Especially when we throw in the rape.”
“Rape?” said Herlihy. “Did you say ‘rape’?”
“It seems we’ve got a statement that Mr. McDonald forcibly engaged in sexual intercourse with one of his clients.”
Avery McDonald almost laughed. “That’s ridiculous! I’ve never forced anyone.”
“That’s not what the statement said.”
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“Sir,” said McDonald, “I may not be a saint, but I have never committed rape. It isn’t necessary.”
“This is a wholly different matter, Jack,” said Herlihy. “You’re trying to connect it with Redux?”
“Sure. When it comes out that Mr. McDonald, the helpful editor, compelled a woman to have sex with him before he worked on her manuscript, I think the jury will be impressed with his consummate professionalism.”
“You can’t admit anything like this as evidence in a grand larceny trial.”
“I’ll get it in, Leo. You know I will. And if I don’t, it will certainly be on the public record. How will that help the search for clients?”
“You won’t have a prayer,” Southerlyn said to McDonald. “In my experience, when one woman comes forward, others come out of the woodwork as well.”
Monica McDonald’s face had reddened. Sweat had beaded on her forehead.
“Are you all right?” asked Southerlyn.
Avery turned to Monica. “Who’s been lying about this?”
“I’ll have to talk to my client,” said Herlihy.
“I deny it!” said McDonald. “This is nonsense!
What is there to talk about! This is persecution, pure and simple. He’s running for office or something, Leo.”
“To save the state time and money,” said McCoy,
“I’m willing to entertain a plea.”
“Hey,” said Herlihy, “don’t try to bluff me.”
“Five years for him. Three years for her. And restitution.”
“They’re not violent felons! Come off it!”
“I don’t know about her,” said McCoy. “But he’s a 291
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rapist. If I go after him on rape one, what do you think he’ll get?”
“Nothing!” said McDonald. “I raped no one. I don’t rape. I don’t have to rape.”
The sweat was now pouring from Monica’s face.
Her skin had taken on a bloodless pallor.
“Your husband’s quite a stud, is he?” said Southerlyn. “He wrote the book on the subject: The Man’s Guide to Studliness.”
“All right,” said Herlihy, “that’s enough. No one says a word.” He stood. “For all we know, you’re making all this up, Jack.” He reached for Avery’s arm.
Monica seemed unable to rise.
“You’ve cheated people long enough,” said McCoy.
“Call me back when you’re ready to plea.”
He opened his drawer and lifted out a typed statement.
“Melva Patterson,” said McCoy.
“I’m sure you remember her,” said Southerlyn. “She was a friend of Barbara Chesko’s.”
McDonald exhaled in a mocking relief. “Her? She was a conniving bitch. She didn’t pay me a thing. Not a penny. I did it as a favor to Bob Rosserman.”
“What? Threw her down on the floor and raped her? Maybe I should charge Rosserman as well.”
Herlihy grabbed McDonald’s arm. “Avery!” he said.
“I edited her trashy manuscript as a favor to Bob, to keep you bastards off his back! The whore throws herself out of a window and you start after us! What kind of justice is that?”
“Avery! Shut up! Now!”
McDonald snatched up the statement and flicked it at McCoy, who had straightened his chair and hunched forward, ready to defend himself. South-292
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erlyn’s eyes were headlights as she gripped the handle of her briefcase, the only weapon she could think of.
“Melva Patterson,” McDonald sneered, “is a talent-less slut who threw herself at me. Rape her? She wanted it, she practically begged for it, and then kept asking for more!”
“Avery!” said Herlihy.
“You’d better tell your client to calm down,” said McCoy.
Monica’s voice startled them all.
“Bastard! ” she growled. She snatched the cane from Avery McDonald’s hand, raised it over her head and brought it down hard across her husband’s forehead.
He spun backward, falling over his chair. Herlihy stretched his arms out in front of him to try to stop her, but backed away at the fierce anger. Avery McDonald skittered backward on his rump, blinking blood from his eyes. McCoy was trying to round his desk and block Southerlyn from Monica’s wild swings.
She cracked the cane across her husband’s knees. The next blow struck the chair. McCoy shoved Monica in the side and she flopped on the sofa. Two uniforms shoved Herlihy aside and pinned Monica down.
She panted like an overheated husky as one officer snapped handcuffs on her wrist and twisted her arm behind her. She then broke down. “He promised,”
she sobbed. “No more. He promised…”
“Are you okay?” McCoy asked Southerlyn.
“Just let me sit down,” she said, shaking.
McCoy looked at Herlihy, who was breathing hard, but nodded okay. Avery McDonald moaned, simultaneously trying to hold his knee and wipe the stinging blood from his left eye.
One of the cops knelt over McDonald and pressed 293
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a tissue against the scalp wound. The other cop, carefully watching Monica sob, placed the cane on McCoy’s desk behind him and used his radio to ask for paramedics.
“Monica,” moaned McDonald, “I love you. You know that.”
She sniffed. “I can’t kill every woman in the city.”
“What did you say?” said McCoy.
“I’ve lived with it long enough. I tol
d him he had to stop. He doesn’t. He won’t.”
Avery spoke through gritted teeth. “Monica! We’re not like ordinary couples, we’re…”
“You wanted her money. You would have left me for her!”
“That’s ri—” He growled in agony. “It’s ridiculous!”
He rocked back in pain again. “What did you do?
Oh, God, Monica, what did you do?”
Southerlyn looked at Herlihy who was staring in astonishment at what had just happened. Even in this moment of confusion, she knew that Herlihy should be advising his client to shut up. But he wasn’t going to do it.
“Lie down,” said the cop to Avery. “Lie down.”
Tears ran down Avery’s cheeks. His eyes were closed and he seemed almost as if he were going to fall asleep. “She wasn’t rich, you stupid bitch. You’re the one I come home to. You, Monica.” He began to blubber as the paramedics pushed their way through the crowd that had gathered outside McCoy’s door.
As they moved to slide the carrier under him, Monica turned and murmured, “Oh, baby. Oh, baby.”
She craned her neck in her husband’s direction, her arms held behind her by the handcuffs. The cop pushed her back. The paramedics were about to lift 294
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up Avery McDonald, but McCoy stepped toward them.
“Wait,” he said. The paramedics looked to the cop, who nodded.
McCoy bent toward Monica. “You killed Barbara Chesko.”
Her face was swollen with her blubbering, her eyes as puffy as a bad boxer’s.
“You went up to the room after Mr. McDonald left.”
“I knew what he was doing there.” She sniffed. “He met her there before.”
“How do you know?”
“Don’t say anything,” groaned Avery.
She sniffed again and swallowed. “He had matches.
He smelled like perfume. It wasn’t hard to know.”
She began blubbering again.
“You hurt me,” said Avery, holding his head. “You never hurt me before. Don’t say anything.”
Southerlyn touched McCoy as if to say, “That’s enough.” McCoy looked at the hand as if he would bite it off.
“How did you do it? How?”
“Avery didn’t know I was in town. She had called the night before. She was crying about her lousy book.
I later heard him call her back.”
“His cell phone records say he called home,” said McCoy. “But you weren’t there?”