by Denise Irwin
“Agent Henson, can you explain the events that took place before these photos that were captured by the police?”
“Yes sir, I can. I began working undercover with Bruce Grossman, investigating a money laundering case in Atlantic City. My undercover identity was Rebecca Grossman, posing as his wife. The Bureau provided a list of casinos that it believed were laundering money. One of the casinos on the list was the Chariot. I obtained a job with the casino, as a bartender. Mr. Grossman had secured a job with Authority Transportation.
“Mr. Grossman told me he had made a delivery to the Chariot before I left for work. On my first night working in the Chariot, I was able to take several photos of crates in the kitchen with my cell phone’s camera. At that point, I was suspicious of Mr. Grossman’s behavior, so I forwarded those pictures to a trusted co-worker’s cell phone. The co-worker suggested that I leave Grossman’s home that night. However, I wasn’t going to leave my dog behind.
“When I returned to Grossman’s house later than I should have, I gave him some bullshit excuse about being stopped by the police for a speed limit violation. He asked that I pour us each a glass of wine. When I turned around to hand him his glass, he had a gun pointed at my chest. He twisted my right arm behind my back and pushed me toward the basement door. Once I was in the basement, Grossman held the gun against my back and told me to lie on the floor. He then shackled my wrists to the wall.”
“Did he give you a reason why he did that?”
“He told me that since I appeared curious, he’d show me what he had in the basement. Grossman then showed me the boxes full of money.”
“Did Grossman intend to kill you after he showed you the boxes full of money?”
“I believe that was his intent. He told me he was going to keep me alive so that we could consummate our marriage.”
“Agent Henson, please clarify for me, were the two of you married?”
“No, at least not legally. I was posing as his wife for the investigation.”
“Agent Henson, I have a doctor’s report that indicates you were raped and sodomized on a number of occasions. Can you tell me if this document is valid?” He handed Cassie the physician’s medical report.
“It is, Mr. Grossman raped and sodomized me several times a day.”
“How long were you shackled to that wall in Grossman’s basement?”
“Four days.”
“How often did the defendant unshackle you to use the facilities?”
“He never unshackled me. I lay for four days in my own urine and feces.”
“Agent, are you telling me he raped you as you lay in your own body’s excrement?”
“Yes sir that’s what I’m telling you.”
“Agent Henson, how often did the defendant provide you with food and water while you were in his basement shackled to the wall?”
“Mr. Frankel, for four days I laid in my own body’s excrement without food or water.”
“Agent, did he at least speak with you, while he raped you?”
“Yes sir, he did. He entered the basement at one point and while he was preparing to take his pants off, I managed to find enough strength to kick him in the groin. When he recovered from that kick, he urinated on me, telling me that if he found blood in his urine, he would do things to me that I never dreamed were possible. At one point, Grossman told me, he would fuck me until there was nothing left to fuck.”
Frankel quietly turned and faced the jury. He wanted to see their reaction to the statement Agent Henson had just made.
“Agent Henson, Grossman urinated on you?”
“Yes sir, he did.”
Several jurors looked as though they were near passing out. He refrained from asking her about the second part of her testimony.
“So, you’re saying that he raped you repeatedly for four days, denying you use of any facilities, along with denying you food and water.”
“Yes sir, that’s what I said.”
Frankel was pushing her harder than he wanted to, but it was his job to give the jurors enough evidence for the indictment.
“Agent Henson, would you prefer to continue or would you like to take a short break?”
“If the jurors don’t mind, I’d like to continue.” Frankel smiled at Cassie before he turned to the jurors.
Cassie wondered to herself, is guy hitting on me? Not that I’d mind, if he did.
“By a show of hands, is there anyone who needs to take a short recess?”
Not one juror raised a hand.
“As evidence to this testimony, I am now going to show you the hospital doctor’s diagnosis. As you look at the report, keep in mind that he found multiple slashes in the vaginal wall, resulting from rape, not rough sex.”
Frankel looked at Cassie, “I’m ready to turn questioning over to the jurors; do you want to take a break?”
Cassie chortled, “I’m fine counselor.” She turned to face the jury, “I’m ready.”
Juror Sixteen raised her hand, “Mr. Frankel, can you please go back several slides; I want to ask Agent Henson what was at her feet.”
Cassie almost laughed aloud when Frankel turned his back to the jury to change the slide and winked at her. She wondered again if he were flirting with her. Once the correct photo was on the monitor, Juror Sixteen asked Cassie, “What is that at your feet?”
“That’s my dog.”
“That is a dog?”
Cassie worked hard to keep her voice steady and clear. “Yes ma’am, that’s a dog. Brutus and I were working partners. He and I trained together in the Canine Unit. When Brutus felt my life was in danger, he attempted to attack Grossman, and Grossman shot him in the chest.” Cassie inhaled a deep breath to steady her nerves, before she continued. “Brutus died instantly.”
Not one juror missed the tears running down Cassie’s cheeks. Juror One found a tissue in her purse and brought it to Agent Henson. Cassie whispered, “Thank you.”
Juror Six raised his hand, “Agent Henson who found you?”
Cassie wiped the tears from her eyes and smiled at him, “A knight in shining armor.”
“Excuse me?”
She sighed, “Based on the conversation with the casino owner conducting the job interview, I compromised my cover and gave him Sam’s contact information. I asked Mr. Englar to call Sam if I didn’t report for work. My intuition told me this case was going to go to hell in a hand basket. When I didn’t show up to work, he called Sam.”
Juror Eight raised her hand, “Agent Henson, are you saying it took the owner four days before he called the investigator?”
“No ma’am, well I guess I am. I worked Wednesday night. I wasn’t due back to work until 11:00 am Saturday morning. The owner called Sam when I didn’t show for work that morning.”
Juror Eight continued, “I suppose I would call him a knight in shining armor too.”
The room went silent. Frankel needed to speak to the jury; however, listening to Cassie’s testimony drove nails through his own heart.
“Does anyone else have a question for Agent Henson?”
When no one raised a hand, Frankel announced, “Lunch is set up in the jury chamber. Please remember you may discuss anything you like as long as it’s not about this case. We’ll reconvene with the next witness at 1:00 this afternoon.”
Cassie remained seated while the jury filed out. “Cassie, I’ve ordered lunch for the two of us if you care to join me.”
“I would like that very much.”
Sam was growing concerned about Leona. He’d called her office line; the house line, and her cell phone. She hadn’t taken any of his calls. He’d left messages on all three and she wasn’t returning his calls. He thought about calling her mother, but if he did that, Nancy would get upset herself. Shelly was his last resort. When Shelly’s voice mail took his call, the gnawing pain in his stomach grew. Sam was pacing in his hotel room worried sick about his wife. His last call was to Brown and Brown. When the receptionist answered, he asked if he co
uld speak to Leona. The receptionist told him, “Leona Parker is no longer an employee at the firm.” He then asked to speak to Shelly. When the receptionist told him that Shelly had not reported for work, he thanked her and hung up the phone. He told himself not to worry, but he worried anyway.
There were standard deli cold cuts with some bread, sliced cheese, and fruit set up on the small meeting table in Frankel’s Office.
As Cassie made herself a sandwich, she asked Frankel, “Counselor were you flirting with me in the jury room?”
“If I were, were you offended by it?”
She smiled at him, “I’m not sure, but I don’t think so.”
“What does that mean, you aren’t sure?”
“I think I was just surprised. How do you think we did?”
“Do you really need to ask? They identified with you. You did a great job.”
“Adam, is Joe Schuman on the list?”
“No; however, if the jury wants to question him, he’s still in Atlantic City. We asked him to stay in case the state Grand Jury had any questions.”
“What about Sam? Is he on the list?”
“I spoke with your knight in shining armor this morning. He’s going to stick around in case he’s needed; however, his testimony was more pertinent to the federal case.”
Cassie responded, “That makes sense and if he’s sticking around I feel comfortable just knowing he’s somewhere close.”
In Baltimore, Shelly was still in surgery at Johns Hopkins Hospital. Randy paced the floor waiting to hear from the doctor. An hour earlier, a nurse brought him a report that surgery was going well. She said the surgeon was confident that he’d be able to stitch the puncture wound in her heart.
Randy asked the nurse, “What about her shoulder?”
“The cardiac surgeon is focusing on her heart first. When he’s through his surgery and if she’s stable enough, he’ll turn her over to an orthopedic surgeon. The second surgery might not take place until later, when she’s strong enough.”
“Randy, wait here, I’m going to go to the cafeteria and bring lunch back. You have to eat. I don’t have the strength to worry about both of you. You haven’t called her mother yet. I can call her if you like.”
“Lee, you know fucking well that if we call her, she’s gonna come running down and tell us what we should or shouldn’t do. Mrs. Henderson will demand that the hospital staff allow her to go into the operating room, so she can tell the doctors how to do their jobs.
Leona laughed, “You know your mother-in-law only too well. We won’t call Shelly’s mother until she’s out of surgery, but that doesn’t let you off the hook for lunch. Tell me what you’d like to have or I’ll pick something out for you.”
“It really doesn’t matter, so just pick me up a sandwich.”
“Do you have a beverage of choice?”
In a frustrated voice, he answered her, “No. Just grab me something.”
“Cassie, I’ve gotta get back into the jury room. There are two Deputies ready to take you back to the safehouse. I heard through the grapevine, you kicked Paul Anderson’s butt in both cards and chess.”
“He asked for it, so what’s a girl to do?”
Cassie thought Adam looked as though he was about to ask her something, and then thought better about it. He smiled and left the office.
Several of the jurors noticed that Frankel had a smile on his lips when he entered the jury room. Juror Fifteen leaned toward Juror Sixteen, and whispered, “I think Frankel is sweet on Agent Henson.”
Juror Sixteen responded in a whisper, “I think you’re right, but what man wouldn’t be attracted to her?”
Frankel acted as though he hadn’t heard the whispers between Jurors Fifteen and Sixteen, who appeared to be well into their sixties, so their whispers were a bit louder than they realized. “Before I bring the next witness in, I want to ask if lunch was okay.”
Juror Fourteen said, “It was very good. How was your lunch?”
Adam chortled, “My lunch was good.” Obviously, Juror Fourteen had also overhead the two women talking about Cassie.
“We’re going to move to our next witness. The US Marshal’s Department is holding him in protective custody, so two Deputies will escort him into the jury room. We typically use the state police, but this witness requires a higher level of security.”
Two Deputies brought Grossman into the room. He was wearing a suit that looked as though it was two sizes larger than his frame. He heard one of the jurors gasp when she saw he was in leg chains and his hands were in handcuffs behind his back. As if attached to one another, the jurors squirmed back in their chairs when the deputies took the cuffs off to move his hands to the front of his body. The jurors let out sighs of relief when the defendant’s hands were placed securely back in the handcuffs.
Frankel stood with his back to the defendant and addressed the jury, “This is Bruce Grossman, the defendant in this case. As I outlined this morning, I will ask Mr. Grossman a series of questions, after which I encourage you to ask him questions to clarify his testimony.”
Not one juror looked at Frankel, they looked through Frankel as if he were a ghost in the room and focused on the man who had in their minds, raped, and sodomized the lovely Agent Henson. Frankel knew this was good sign. It was in fact, very good. The looks on their faces led him to believe they had already indicted Grossman in their minds. Frankel also knew he couldn’t depend on those faces. He needed to give them sufficient evidence to doubt the defendant’s innocence, so they would vote to indict this monster.
Frankel leaned against the rail that divided the room between the jurors and the attorney’s table, and of course, put distance between him and the witness. His back was to the jury when he asked his first question.
“Mr. Grossman, were you in possession of a firearm during the period of October 2 through October 6?”
“Yes sir, I was.”
“Was that firearm issued to you by the Federal Bureau of Investigation?”
“Yes sir, it was.”
“Did you use your Bureau issued firearm at any time between October 2 and October 6?”
“Yes sir, I did.”
“Mr. Grossman, please explain the circumstance to the jury and me, why you used your Bureau issued firearm.”
Grossman shifted his weight in the chair. “I used my gun in self defense.”
“I see. What or who were you defending yourself from?”
“Rebecca’s dog charged to attack me, so I shot the dog in self defense.”
“Who is Rebecca?”
“Rebecca is my wife.”
“Your wife was in the house during a money laundering investigation?”
“Yes, she’s my partner.”
“Was Rebecca a part of the investigation?
“Yes, she was.”
This asshole is psychotic and delusional. Go-slow don’t give him anything to go on to support an insanity plea.
“May I ask how long you and Rebecca have been married?”
“We were married in Boston on Tuesday, October 2, 2001.”
“Mr. Grossman, I apologize for my questioning your marital status.”
Frankel picked up a plastic bag that contained a firearm. “Mr. Grossman, is this the gun you used to shoot Agent Henson’s dog?” The Prosecutor pulled the gun from the bag and handed it to the defendant.
Grossman glanced at the gun, “Yes it is. Counselor do I need to repeat myself. The agent involved in the case was my wife, Rebecca Grossman.”
As Frankel took the gun from Grossman, he took it to Juror One, who shook her head no, “I don’t want to touch it.”
“It’s not loaded, so you are perfectly safe from shooting the gun accidentally.”
“Mr. Grossman, I need your help. I don’t often work with the federal law enforcement officials,” Frankel looked to the jury to make sure he had their attention, “but I see that the serial numbers on that gun are filed off. Is that a new procedure when an FBI Agent works
undercover?”
Grossman’s face turned a boiling red color. In a guttural voice, he hissed at Frankel, “I purchased a Saturday Night Special for this investigation.”
“The jurors might not be familiar with the term ‘Saturday Night Special’. Can you explain that term to them?”
Sparks flew from Grossman’s eyes when he explained the term. “It’s used by cops. Cops carry them as throw down guns if they need to shoot to kill.”
“Thank you for explaining that. Mr. Grossman, I’d like you to take a look at a rap sheet.”
Frankel handed the defendant his rap sheet. “Fingerprints taken by the state police when you were taken into custody were sent to the FBI’s lab. The Bureau’s lab analyzed those prints to confirm that you were in fact an FBI Agent. However, what the Bureau learned was that you were not an agent. Your rap sheet has, let’s say, a few felonious convictions for which you served prison time. Were those convictions put on a fake rap sheet, so that you could work undercover?”
“They were part of undercover work. I did several investigations in prison.”
“Is that right? Mr. Grossman, that’s admirable, but I have one last question about those prints. According to the Bureau, you were never an agent. Can you clear this misinformation up for me?”
“I don’t know who told you I wasn’t an agent, but whoever said that I wasn’t an agent lied to you. I was assigned to a special detail under the direction of the President.”
“That may be so; I’d like to move on to questions regarding that you allegedly raped and sodomized Agent Henson. Please look to the monitor for me. In this photo, Agent Cassandra Henson is lying on a cement floor with her arms stretched to a set of shackles. Can you confirm this was photo was taken in your basement?”
“No I can’t, since I didn’t take that photo.”
“Let me rephrase that question. Is the location in this photo, your basement?”
“Yes it is.”
“Can you explain why Agent Cassandra Henson was lying in her own feces and urine in your basement?”