by Shenda Paul
"He was twenty-six."
"And you say that was twenty-six years ago?"
"That is right, yes."
"So he would have been in his mid-thirties when he followed seven-year-old Angelique to that park?"
"That seems accurate."
"In your affidavit, you stated that you and Dieter Quandt were romantically involved. Would you explain how a twenty-six-year-old man entered into a relationship with a fifteen-year-old child?"
"Dieter… he befriended me when I was lost and lonely."
"How did he do that?" Jodi presses.
"He paid me attention when no one else seemed to care."
"You had parents at the time didn’t you?"
"Yes, I did."
"Where were they, Ms. Svenska, or did they also neglect you?"
"I come from a small town nearly two hours from Leipzig, so I was living with a host family."
"Didn’t they show you kindness?"
"They did, but they were old. I felt they did not understand me… well, not like Dieter appeared to."
"Did he make sexual advances toward you?"
"Not in the beginning, he was kind and talked to me whenever he saw me, which was mostly after classes."
"When did things change?"
"When he invited me to have coffee with him."
"Did your guardians know you were meeting a grown man?"
"Dieter told me to say I was rehearsing late."
"So he told you to lie to your guardians, and you did?"
"I did," she says, looking embarrassed.
"What happened after coffee?"
"Nothing at first and then, one day, he asked if I would like to see his apartment. I agreed."
"Why did you agree?"
"I liked him. He made me feel important and grown up."
"What happened in his apartment?"
"He kissed me and touched me."
"Did you protest?"
"No."
"So you didn't object to him kissing and touching you. Did he make you feel uncomfortable at all?"
"Not then; I'm ashamed to admit I liked what he did. It made me feel good."
"There’s no need to feel ashamed of having normal human responses, Ms. Svenska," Jodi says, her tone filled with compassion. "Describe what happened next, please."
"Nothing the first couple of times, but we grew more and more adventurous and then one day, before I could object, he removed my underwear and penetrated me with his fingers."
"Did you object when that was happening?"
"No," she says, looking mortified.
"Then what happened?" Jodi asks.
"The next time he did the same and then removed his clothes and rubbed against me. I told him to stop, that I didn't like him putting his private parts there, but he was kissing me and pushing his tongue into my mouth. Before I knew it, he entered me."
"So he raped you?"
"I didn't think it was rape. I went to his apartment willingly, and I'd been there before and allowed him to do things."
"You were a child of fifteen; you said no. In the eyes of the law, you were raped, Ms. Svenska. Even if you had been of age, it would still have been rape. Tell us about your relationship after that."
I feel pity and regret for this woman; there can be no doubt that Quandt took advantage of a lonely and impressionable girl. This is what he planned for Angelique all those years ago, I’m sure. I thank providence that she managed to escape his clutches at least in that regard.
I listen now as Ingrid tells how he forged a letter in her father’s name to her host family. In it, he stated that they'd only recently discovered a distant cousin living in Leipzig and had, consequently, arranged for their daughter to live with family. Quandt provided his physical description and a false name for the supposed cousin, who would then collect Ingrid. She tells how she moved in with him, and how they perpetuated the lie by not revealing the change in her living circumstances to her parents or the ballet company.
She explains how, just before her seventeenth birthday, she discovered that she was pregnant. He was furious and wanted to send her off to have an abortion. When she refused, he informed her that the rent had been paid for three months and dropped some money on the table before packing his bags and leaving her alone in the apartment. When she could no longer hide her condition, she lied to the dance company, saying she needed to go home to care for her sick mother. She was granted leave of absence and told to return at the beginning of the next season, or her contract would be canceled.
She becomes emotional when describing her parents' disappointment and shame, her miscarriage at twenty weeks, and how her mother convinced her not to bury her dreams with her baby girl.
"When did you meet up with Dieter Quandt again?" Jodi asks.
"About three months later," she replies and relates how she tried to ignore him, but how he managed to charm her once more. She admits to having been in love with him. Their careers flourished, and when he decided to move to America to open his dance school, he offered her the role as dance mistress.
"When did your relationship end?" Jodi asks.
"Many years ago. He lost interest in me soon after we arrived here, perhaps even before. I think he stayed with me for business reasons," she adds with a hint of bitterness. Jodi asks about his interest in other young girls.
"I believed him when he told me he fell in love with me, despite, not because of my youth. If there was anyone else, I missed the clues," she admits.
"Until Angelique," she adds ruefully.
"Did you notice anything different about his behavior with Angelique?" Jodi asks, casting a quick glance in my direction.
"Not until Leipzig…except in the beginning, perhaps."
At Jodi’s prodding, she continues. "The Academy quickly became well respected, and we had no shortage of students, despite the high cost of tutelage. Our few scholarships were in demand, and we did not ever seek out candidates for those places. So when Dieter came in one day, insisting that he'd seen a little girl who could be the next Pavlova or Fonteyn, I was surprised. I asked where he had seen her dance, and he became angry and told me he didn't need to see her dance, that he would make her great.
"He ordered me to grant Angelique Bain a place. When I argued that her scholarship should only be approved if she was good enough, he reminded me that I was merely a paid employee who could be replaced," she says.
"Did you think he meant it?"
"Without a doubt."
"And what did you think of Angelique when you met her?"
"She was a quiet little girl, but she was immediately enamored with ballet. I had never before seen such joy and determination in any seven-year-old on entering the studio. It's what convinced me that she could be a great dancer; and I was right, Angelique was sublime," Ingrid ends wistfully.
"When did you first notice Mr. Quandt's obsession with her?" Jodi asks, and Ingrid details his constant questioning about Angelique, and how he always seemed to be watching her. She confesses that she attributed it to his commitment to finding the next great international ballerina. It wasn’t until Angelique’s thirteenth birthday when Grace expressed disquiet over his gift that she had a reason to question his motives. She told herself she was being paranoid and convinced both herself and Grace that his motives were professional. His unexpected arrival in Leipzig and his fury at discovering Angelique’s relationship with Luke Grantham confirmed those initial suspicions.
"Do you know why he became obsessed with Angelique at such a young age, and why he maintained his interest in her for so long?" Jodi asks the question that’s plagued me ever since I first learned about Quandt.
"He admitted it the night we argued in our Leipzig apartment, the night he accused me of pushing her and Luke together."
"What was the reason?" Jodi asks before I can demand she answer.
"He
said Angelique looks a lot like his sister who died when she was twelve. She was a little ballerina."
"If that were the case, surely he would have viewed Angelique in a purely familial way?"
"He did not. You see, Dieter had a sexual relationship with his sister," she says, causing the blood to race to my head. The thought of what that bastard probably had planned for little Angelique nearly makes my head explode. The sympathy I felt only moments ago for Ingrid Svenska is gone. She only learned the truth in Leipzig, I try to rationalize, she believed she did what she could to stop him, but my anger just won’t allow me to accept her excuses.
Her negligence, in my view, cost Angelique her livelihood; it was the catalyst that led to her having to sell her body. Ingrid may not personally have been able to stop him, but had she spoken out, Angelique’s accident could well have been prevented. That fact alone would be enough to incense me, but she did and said nothing after discovering that Quandt had traced Angelique to Florida. She didn’t disclose what she'd learned about his sister, his rape of her, or the reason for his obsession with Angelique then or in her affidavit later.
I need to get my emotions under control, and I can't do that by staying and listening to this woman—I can’t even look at her right now. I'm in danger of verbally destroying an already distraught woman.
Jodi looks up in alarm when I abruptly get up, but she doesn't, thankfully, try to stop me. I'm still pacing my office when she joins me a short while later.
"Adam…" She says, but I cut her off.
"Don’t try to defend her."
"I won't; but you should know she realizes that she was wrong and regrets it. She's ready to do whatever we ask to ensure he's put away."
"Her testimony will probably help to get the maximum sentence, but it's hardly enough—for molesting his sister and Ingrid, for what he had planned for Angelique. I can't think about that without wanting to kill him. He harmed her anyway…" I breathe deeply, count back from fifty, do the things Ariane taught me all those years ago to calm myself.
I make a conscious effort to lower my voice. "I understand that Ingrid’s been victimized, Jodi, but having discovered the depth of his depravity and obsession with Angelique in Leipzig, she should have done more. She didn't have to reveal her story if that's what bothered her. All she had to do was warn someone. Angelique should have been told; she had a right to know, her mother had a right to know."
"You're right." Jodi’s eyes mirror my distress.
"I'm going to have to tell Angelique all of this—on the day before she has to face that fucker and take the stand again, then be cross-examined…"
"She'll be fine," Jodi interjects. "You'll be there; I'll be there, and she's strong, you know that, Adam. We've charged him with everything we possibly can, and we're going to do our best to make sure he gets the maximum sentence."
"We're going to do more than that. We're going to use everything at our disposal to get the New York authorities to investigate him. We’ll contact every Quandt student if we have to, to see if there are any other girls he may have behaved inappropriately with. If he has, and we can prove it, I won’t stop until he’s brought to justice."
"Okay," she says, her relief evident. "I knew you'd channel your anger into what you do best. For now, let’s concentrate on this trial; that's what Angelique needs from us right now."
"I know that; I just need time to calm down. Is there anything more I can do to help you?" I ask, exhaling loudly.
"I'm going to finish up with Ingrid, and then, if you have time, I'd like to go over my opening statement with you."
"Just come and find me. I'll ask Bec to book a meeting room."
When Jodi departs, I call Nick to schedule a match. It'll focus me mentally and calm me physically, something I need to do before I have to drop this bombshell on Angelique. All I want is to eradicate the pain we’ve both suffered, yet it seems to be everywhere we turn. I can't wait for our wedding and honeymoon. Three weeks alone and away from all of this will do us both the world of good. We’ll be able to draw a metaphorical line under our pasts then.
Jodi returns later and updates me on the rest of Ingrid’s testimony. She had, apparently, been looking forward to meeting me and was upset by my abrupt departure. Well, I don't intend to apologize for my reaction anytime soon—if ever.
Having dispensed with the touchy subject of Ingrid, we turn our minds to the trial and revisit Jodi’s strategy and the testimonies of each of our witnesses. Satisfied with our plans, we examine our hypotheses on Purcell’s most likely form of attack and then hone Jodi’s responses.
"I think we’ve covered all bases," I tell her when we’ve exhausted everything we can think of. "Ready to run through your opening statement?"
"Sure," she says, clearing her throat nervously. I give her an encouraging smile and then listen as she delivers a well considered and articulated argument.
"What do you think; is there anything you’d add or say differently?" she asks anxiously when she’s finished. "Be honest."
"It's good; you're good. The only thing I'd suggest is that you make it more personal and emotive. No matter how determined the jury are to remain objective, some part of their decision-making will be viewed through their personal circumstances and with a degree of emotion. I always try, from the outset, to portray the victim as a person, not a statistic, someone the jury can relate to."
I get up and pace because I always think better on my feet. "Children have the right to enjoy their innocence… to be carefree, protected from the ugliness that exists in our world—at least, until they are better equipped to recognize and, hopefully, deal with it…." I start slowly before I settle into a pattern and gain momentum.
"That right was stolen from seven-year-old Angelique Bain when the defendant, a man of thirty-four, decided to target an innocent child for his nefarious attentions…. Dieter Quandt spotted the little girl outside her home; he stalked her, sought information about her, and then used what he learned to follow her and her friends to the park on her birthday. He pretended to be a friend; he tried to bribe her with a gift. He instilled fear into what should have been a happy occasion for four little girls. When the children had the good sense to flee him, he callously took advantage of Angelique’s mother, a grieving widow…" I stop to glance up at her. "Get what I mean?" She nods, twirling a forefinger for me to continue.
"We're not discussing your closing here, but as an example of the same thing, I'd finish with something like this …
"If it had been your seven-year-old daughter, relative, or another little girl you know targeted by a man old enough to be her father… what if, at barely eighteen, she had her bright future destroyed by that same man—if she was then stalked and followed across the country; would you not want the perpetrator taken off the streets?
"It’s rough, but you get the gist," I finish, taking my seat once more.
"See! That's what makes you so good," she says.
"Jodi, you're just as good; it's just a matter of experience. I've been at this a bit longer, that’s all."
"You have one of the sharpest minds I know, and you're a natural orator, Adam. I have to work at it. I could spend three times as long crafting my arguments, but you'll always be that much better."
"Well, I beg to differ."
"Oh just suck it up, Thorne. You're a natural, and you have a killer instinct like no one else I know; the combination’s deadly."
"I still wouldn't want to go up against you," I insist.
"Thanks, I appreciate you saying that and thanks for the great advice. I'm going to add what you've suggested, probably use some of your words if that’s okay?"
"We're a team; you don’t have to ask. Besides, it's the least I can do. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so damned impotent.
"You'll be where you need to be tomorrow," she assures me and leans over to touch my arm.
"Are you sure she's ready?
" I can't help asking.
"She'll do well, Adam. I put her through her paces, and she knows what to expect."
"Okay," I answer, but the knot in the pit of my stomach remains.
Chapter Twenty
Thanks to a grueling session with Nick, my anger has all but abated. Well, it would be more accurate to say that I have it under control; it will be some time before it completely dissipates. Putting Quandt behind bars will go a long way toward that.
I've been agonizing about how best to break the news to Angelique. I wish I didn't have to do this, particularly now, but she has a right to know why he targeted her. It won't necessarily lessen the pain he caused her, but I hope it will, at least, make what happened easier to understand. Mostly, I hope the knowledge will absolve her of any lingering sense of guilt. She's never admitted it, but I've met too many people in similar circumstances not to know that victims almost always feel responsible in some way. 'What did I do to cause this?’ and 'What could I have done to prevent it?’ are questions that remain long after an event, and in some instances, never disappear.
I find Angelique in the kitchen, hair up in a ponytail, barefoot and wearing a pair of shorts and a t-shirt knotted at her hip. She looks flustered and utterly delectable. I stop to watch from the doorway, my heart filled with love, my body stirring as she bends over to search for something in the refrigerator. She turns, eyes trained on two precariously balanced bowls and nudges the door shut with her hip. A strand of hair falls into her eyes, and she purses her lips, her natural pout, accentuated as she attempts to blow it away.
"Hello, Darling," I greet her quietly, moving hurriedly to retrieve the bowls now in danger of slipping from her grasp.
"Adam," she exclaims, my name leaving her mouth like a welcome sigh. "You're home."
"Yes—home…" I savor the word because Angelique’s presence has truly made this place home. I deposit the containers on a nearby cabinet before, cupping her perfectly rounded bottom, I lift her. She wraps her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck as I capture her lips in a passionate kiss.
"What are you so busily doing, Miss Bain?" I ask when we’ve come up for air.