Fury kac-17

by Robert K. Tanenbaum

  Marlene liked Alexis immediately, just as she'd liked Helena. But she felt compelled to set the record straight. Butch had warned her that the Michalik case might not be winnable. In the time she'd spent protecting women from the men who abused them, she'd met plenty who seemed like Prince Charming on the outside, only to find they were monsters inside. "As I told Helena," she said. "I'm willing to look into your situation. If I don't take the case as your lawyer, I might be able to recommend someone who will. But we need to talk and I'm going to have to ask you to be absolutely honest with me…and Helena."

  "What do you mean?" Helena said.

  "We'll get to it," she said. "But first tell me how you two met." This part wasn't necessary for what she needed, but she'd found through long experience that when she had to ask difficult questions, it was good to throw a few softballs first to loosen up.

  "I was a student at the university in Moscow," Helena said, drifting into the tiny kitchen and reemerging with a pot of tea and three cups.

  "I was an architecture major-to draw buildings, you know-but my roommate was a poetry student and deeply infatuated with Alexis. To be honest, I was not much a fan of poetry-especially Russian poetry, which is always so dark and moody-"

  "Unfair," Alexis complained. "This first poem I wrote to you compared you to spring on the steppes-'a rush of flowers on heaven's stairs.'"

  "Yes," Helena said, but then rolled her eyes, "with the obligatory ending that if I would not be his, winter would come to the steppes and freeze his heart for all eternity."

  Marlene laughed.

  "Anyway, I would much rather go dancing…to the Rolling Stones, preferably," Helena said. "But he was so cute and earnest with his poems-"

  "And she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen," he finished her sentence. "I knew as soon as I spoke to her after the reading that she and I were meant for each other."

  "What about your roommate?" Marlene asked.

  "When she learned that Alexis had asked me out, and I'd said yes, she threw all of my clothes out the window of our apartment."

  "Which was good for me because she had nowhere else to go but my place," Alexis said.

  They'd married soon afterward, but life was a struggle in Moscow for a poetry professor. Even though Alexis had won several prestigious international poetry awards, and several of his books had been published in Europe, his salary barely kept them above the poverty line. Helena had to quit school to work as a secretary, but even then they could not make ends meet.

  The offer to teach as an endowed chair at New York University where he would be paid nearly four times the amount they made from both their salaries combined had seemed like a miracle. They had both fallen in love with America and hoped to be allowed to remain.

  "I am a Russian in my soul," Alexis said. "I love my native land. But the end of the Soviet Union did not bring the economic boom everyone hoped for; it brought even more corruption and gangsters. If you wanted justice, you had to pay for it. There was no hope that things would get better. Here it is better. You can dream, and while Americans may not speak as highly of their artists, they pay them better. So, I am Russian in my soul, but becoming an American in my heart."

  If only we all felt as strongly, Marlene thought but cautioned herself against letting this poetic man sway her with words when his actions might not have been so noble.

  "So," Helena said, changing the subject, "you said you wanted to talk to us about Alexis's case."

  Marlene looked at the younger woman and saw the fear in her eyes. She didn't want to hurt her but this had to be done. She turned to Alexis. "Like I said, I need to ask you some questions before I'll take this case. And let me warn you, you have to be completely honest with me, no matter how painful the answers, or I'm out of here. Understand?"

  Alexis hung his head and sighed. "Yes, I will be honest," he said. "Ask."

  "Then tell me the truth about your relationship with Sarah Ryder-from the beginning and right through to when you last spoke with her," Marlene said. Rather than ask specific questions at the moment, she wanted to see if he would try to downplay certain aspects or lie. But he didn't.

  He spoke about how he'd met his accuser, the helpful student and friend. "She was-how do you say this, flirting-yes, flirting. I know now that I should have…um…nip this in the bud, but I admit I found it to be flattering and I thought harmless."

  "Was there any physical contact?" Marlene asked.

  "None. Well, except that she liked to hug and seems to be infatuated with the European custom of kissing on the cheeks. But nothing else, not until just before the incident when she kissed me on the mouth and told me that she was in love with me."

  "How come you did not tell me this?" Helena interrupted angrily.

  Alexis shrugged. "I did not think it was a big deal. I told her that I enjoyed her friendship, but that I did not feel the same…that I was already married to the woman that I loved."

  "I don't suppose you made any sort of dated notation about this incident with Ms. Ryder?" Marlene asked. "A memo in a file or an email?"

  "No. It was a kiss. I told her that it could not happen again, and she seemed to accept that…she said we could be just friends."

  "What happened after that?"

  Alexis leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling with his hands clasped in front of his stomach. "Nothing. She was just the nice, helpful student struggling to complete her master's thesis, which is why I agreed to see her that evening in my office. I was feeling somewhat guilty as her adviser because I had been so focused on trying to complete the translation of my book. I felt I owed her the time."

  Alexis reached the point where Sarah arrived and brought out the beer, which she then spilled. "That is when she must have put something in my drink," he said.

  "Something in your drink?" Marlene said. "The toxicology report indicates that she had rohypnol in her bloodstream. Are you saying that you were drugged?"

  "I did not see her do this," he said, explaining how he'd left to fetch a paper towel. "But I'm Russian and no stranger to stronger drink than a weak American beer. Yet, after we talked for some minutes, I felt…well, actually, I felt good, relaxed, but my mind was like…you would say mush. The next day, I confronted her with this, but she says I drugged her."

  "Did you tell the police detective who interviewed you that you thought you'd been drugged?" Marlene asked.

  "No. It did not come up. He did not seem too interested in what I say, except the part where…" Alexis stopped talking and looked at his wife and then back to Marlene. "Helena has not heard most of this next part. Only that this woman claims I raped her."

  "I'm afraid she's going to have to know the whole truth now," Marlene said. "If this goes to trial, she will learn anyway, and it's best if she doesn't look surprised and hurt in front of the jury."

  Alexis nodded and looked at the ground so it was at first difficult to hear him. "She gave me oral sex."

  "What?" Helena asked, her voice barely audible.

  "When I was in my chair and feeling woozy, she gave me oral sex."

  Helena looked stunned and then angry. But Marlene pressed on. "Did you ejaculate?"

  "Yes," he said, nodding. "She would not stop."

  Helena set her teacup down with a crash. "She would not stop? Poor Alexis, you could not push her away? She excited you enough that much? Perhaps you did nothing to resist?"

  Alexis said nothing.

  "Well, the legal question is, did you force yourself upon her at any time?" Marlene asked.

  "No."

  "You didn't tie her up?"

  "What!" Helena exclaimed.

  "No."

  "You did not rape her vaginally or anally?"

  "I never did these things," he said, starting to seethe himself.

  "She says he did this?" Helena asked Marlene.

  "Yes."

  "Does she have proofs?"

  "There is evidence that she had sex in this manner. There are also tra
ces of Alexis's semen found on her blouse."

  "This is not possible!" Alexis cried. "I did not…have sex in this manner or do this on her blouse."

  "Then how do you explain these proofs," Helena demanded.

  "I cannot," he admitted.

  "There is also a question of a beer glass found in your office with Ms. Ryder's fingerprints-as well as yours-and lipstick stains," Marlene continued. "It contained traces of the drug."

  "Aha!" Alexis shouted. "There is proofs that I am telling these truths. I never touched her beer glass, only the one she handed me."

  "There's no way to prove that Alexis," Marlene said. "Only one beer glass was located, and it had both of your fingerprints on it. Her version of the story checks out, including a witness who has come forward to say he saw Ms. Ryder on the night in question and that she claimed to have been raped by her professor."

  "But her story is lies," he complained.

  "Except that you accepted this oral sex from this woman…and her kisses," Helena cried and began to sob.

  Alexis stood and went over to his wife. "It was not like that," he said and touched her shoulder but she angrily pulled away from him.

  Marlene watched the couple and felt like a heel. But she also believed Alexis. If he'd tried to lie about the blow job or had tried to introduce some silly explanation, she'd made up her mind to walk away and leave him to his fate. But while he was defensive about his actions, which was normal under the circumstances, he'd answered truthfully with his wife sitting across from him.

  "Helena," she said, "if Alexis is telling the truth-and I have to say I believe him-there are other explanations for these proofs, as you call them. But it's going to be tough to convince a judge and jury so we're going to have to decide if you want me to help and if you want to be part of this."

  Alexis looked at her gratefully, but Helena just nodded as tears spilled down her face. Marlene was about to tell them that she'd decided to accept the case as their lawyer when Gilgamesh lifted his head and looked at the front door while letting go a low rumble that sounded like a diesel truck trying to start on a cold day.

  A moment later, there was a knock on the door. Helena stood, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve, and went to answer.

  Marlene noticed that Helena didn't look out the peephole before reaching for the doorknob. Definitely not a New Yorker, she thought, as Helena opened the door.

  A large man-approximately the same size as an NFL linebacker with his pads on-pushed through the door with his right hand inside his suit coat. However, Gilgamesh had risen to his feet from next to Marlene and was already within closing distance before the man realized that the dog would be on him before he could get the gun out.

  So, bud, now you know how a gazelle feels in that moment when it finally sees the lion in mid-pounce, Marlene thought.

  The man froze, his jaw twitching and his eyes on the dog. Another man stepped in behind him and then moved to the side, speaking to the dog. "Hello, friend," he said. "There is nothing to worry about here."

  As tall as her own husband, the second man had none of the fear in his voice that was playing over the first man's face. Nor was he threatening, which Gilgamesh seemed to recognize, and to Marlene's complete shock, he sat down wagging his tail and gave what she thought of as his happy bark.

  "May I," the second man said to Marlene, indicating that he wanted to approach the dog.

  "Sure," she said. "You two seem to be old friends."

  When the second man approached Gilgamesh and knelt to scratch beneath his collar and accept the obligatory lick, Marlene had a chance to study the scarring she'd noticed on his face; her eyes were drawn, of course, to the black patch he wore over his right socket. He'd obviously been burned. She glanced down at his right hand, which did not flex or change positions as he tickled the dog. Extensively. But he's still a hunk, she thought as he stood up and faced her so that she could see what he must have looked like before the accident.

  "A magnificent animal," he said. "I may need to visit your farm someday on Long Island and find myself a similar companion."

  "We could probably work something out," she said, wondering why it was that every stranger in town today seemed to know her and her business but deciding not to give him the satisfaction of asking. "But this one's been acting strange all day. He wouldn't have attacked you or your friend over there-who, by the way, can pull his hand out of his coat-without the command from me, but he acts like you two came from the same litter."

  The man laughed and motioned the other man to take his hand off his gun, which he did but couldn't stop looking at the dog. The laugh was a pleasant one, not forced, but at the same time she got the impression that he didn't laugh often.

  "Dogs are just so much better than we are at instantly knowing who is a friend and who is a foe," he said. "If he thought I was a danger to his lovely mistress, he would have torn my throat out when I came in the door. Although, getting older, I sometimes think there is something to reincarnation, so perhaps we were once brothers in arms. Yes, yes, I believe I see in his eyes an old sergeant who served with me in Afghanistan. The one who saved me so that I could spend the rest of my life half blinded and looking like this."

  As he said that his crippled right hand went up to his face. "But then I see that we share a similar fate regarding our right eyes." He turned back to the dog. "May I know his name?"

  "Gilgamesh," Marlene replied, thinking that if this man was this attractive after he had been burned, he must have been a god before.

  The man arched his eyebrows. "Ah, the ancient Sumerian warrior," he said. "Very appropriate." He looked over his shoulder at the first man. "It's okay, Milan, the big puppy dog won't bite you so long as you are well behaved." The man nodded but still kept his eyes on Gilgamesh.

  "Now do we get to know your name?" Marlene asked. But the answer came from behind her.

  "His name is Yvgeny Karchovski," Alexis said without enthusiasm. "He is a…what is the word, a gangster, a criminal. Unfortunately, he is also my half brother, though it has been many years since we've seen each other, which has been fine with me."

  Looking at Yvgeny, Marlene thought she saw something akin to pain cross his face at Alexis's words. But he inclined his head to her and said, "I would argue with some of the semantics-I consider myself a businessman who operates within certain gray areas of law-but generally what he says is true."

  "Yvgeny," Alexis continued, "this is Marlene-"

  "Ciampi," Yvgeny finished. "The beautiful, adventurous wife of the district attorney of New York, Butch Karp. I know of your husband."

  "Yeah? Not in a professional capacity, I hope," Marlene said.

  Yvgeny smiled. "No, I know better than to conduct my business in Manhattan and thus have never had to worry about your husband. No, let us say we have some history and people in common, but is best that I leave this discussion for another day."

  Yvgeny turned to Helena, who had backed up against a wall in fear when the first man came through the door, then remained there looking befuddled by the conversation that followed. "And this must be the lovely Helena, my sister-in-law," he said, embracing her and kissing her on both cheeks. "Is it the name that creates such a face as to launch a thousand ships?"

  Helena smiled shyly. "You are kind, sir."

  "You've never met?" Marlene asked.

  Yvgeny exchanged a look with Alexis, then shook his head. "Regrettably, my brother and I were raised in separate households and we've, um, lost touch over the years. I was already living here in the United States when they became engaged, and apparently my invitation to the wedding was lost in the mail."

  "It was so far to travel, brother," Alexis said. "And I would not have wanted to distract you from your business."

  Yvgeny gave Marlene an apologetic look. "My brother does not approve of the family business-"

  "Not my family," Alexis retorted.

  "Yes, yes…he wants nothing to do with me," Yvgeny said. "But come, brother, there
is no need to burden these lovely women with our estrangement." He turned and gave a little bow to Helena and Marlene. "However, I was wondering if I might speak privately to my brother for a few minutes."

  "I have no desire to listen to what you say," Alexis said.

  "No, but I will say it to you anyway if…"

  Marlene decided to intercede. The appearance of Yvgeny had not, of course, healed the rift between Alexis and Helena. But she wanted to talk to Helena privately herself and said to the younger woman, "Why don't you and I and Gilgamesh go for a walk and give these two a chance to chat?"

  "I don't need a chat with him," Alexis said.

  "No, Alexis," Helena replied. "But I need the fresh air…and time. So you talk to your brother and Marlene and I will walk the dog."

  Defeated, Alexis nodded. "Do you also wish for me to be gone before you come back?"

  The tears rushed back into Helena's eyes, but she shook her head. "Nyet. I may wish it later, but I am thinking now that we need to have our own little chat after I've had time to consider this."

  After the women left with the dog, Alexis angrily faced his brother. "How dare you come to my home uninvited," he said. "I have told you that I want nothing to do with you. I had hoped that you did not even know I was in this country."

  Yvgeny motioned for Milan to leave the room. "Even if I did not know before, I could hardly have missed it in the newspapers of late-the Russian Casanova case, I believe they call it," he said. "But I've come to offer my help."

  "I don't want it," Alexis said.

  "No, no, of course not," Yvgeny said. "It would be like accepting tainted money. But tainted by what? Do you even know what I do for a living?"

  "Other than break the law, including murder?"

  "Your definition of murder in this case might be called self-defense by others," Yvgeny said. "It's a hard world, populated by evil men who we have sometimes had to defend ourselves against. But I ask again, do you know what I do for a living? I do not make a living killing, that is just an unfortunate and regrettable part of doing business."

  Alexis shrugged. "Not that I care, but smuggling…black market."