Susan could not hear Pernell’s response, because he started walking away, heading for a men’s room, where he left Ed waiting outside.
Susan called to the man, and he came to the car.
“You’ve got to help me,” she pleaded. “I’ve got to get away from Pernell. Please do something.”
“That’s between you and Pernell,” he said firmly. “I can’t get involved.”
Back in the car, Pernell drove more deliberately, finally turning south on A1A in the direction of the Button. As they neared the beachfront park, Pernell slowed, searching for signs of police. He spotted Ian James in the distance, scanning the traffic, and as he came closer, he noticed two police officers in an unmarked car not far away. Andrea, watching from a nearby vantage point, was the first to see the car with Susan inside and hurried to the waiting police to point it out. It was not yet three o’clock.
“That son of a bitch!” Pernell shouted, speeding up, bypassing the park.
“I thought you told them not to call the cops,” he screamed at Susan.
“I told them, Pernell. You were sitting right there. You heard me tell ’em.”
For Susan, the presence of Ian and the policemen was a frightening development and she kept looking back as Pernell weaved and dodged through traffic, hoping to outmaneuver any pursuers, but she never saw a police car coming after them. While Pernell drove aimlessly, weighing his options, Susan did something she hadn’t done in recent memory. She said a silent prayer. “If You will give me the strength,” she promised without speaking the words aloud, “I am not going to fear Pernell Jefferson any more, I know that at some point, I’ve got to make a stand and this is it…”
Pernell interrupted her thoughts.
“I’ve decided what we should do,” he said. “We’re going to get married.”
“Married?” she said, startled at the suddenness of his announcement.
“Yes, married,” he said excitedly, wheeling the car around.
“When?”
He smiled broadly, obviously pleased at his decision. “As soon as we can find someone to do it.”
Panicking at the thought, she searched her brain for a way out.
“Pernell, you shouldn’t marry me looking the way I do,” she said. “You deserve a pretty wife. Give me a chance to get some nice clothes for the ceremony. I need some makeup, too. Just look at me. I’m a mess. My clothes are torn. I haven’t had a bath in more than a day. I need to do something about my hair. No girl wants to get married like this. Besides, if I show up for my wedding looking like this, people are going to ask questions.”
She thought that she probably was laying a foundation that would have one of only two possible results—either Pernell would release her under the pretext of preparing for the wedding, or he would kill her.
For a long time, he said nothing, dragging out the suspense.
“Okay,” he finally said. “Maybe you’re right.”
Suddenly, he slowed and pulled into a parking space. “I’ll be right back,” he said, jumping from the car.
She watched Pernell disappear into a nearby shop. A few minutes later, he returned, carrying a package.
Not far from the shop, they stopped again at a 7-11 at the corner of 168th Street Northwest and 37th Avenue. Pernell handed Susan a quarter and told her to call her dormitory once more to tell her friends that he was bringing her back and didn’t want to see any police.
Erin answered. “He says he’s going to bring me back to the campus,” Susan told her.
“Great!” Erin responded. “When?”
“I don’t know, but it won’t be very good if he runs into police when he gets there.”
Despite the warning, Erin quickly dialed the Miami-Dade Police Department and told Detective Griglen about the call. Rushing, Griglen arrived at the campus at 3:30 and took up the vigil with half a dozen of Susan’s friends and dormmates.
Pernell, meanwhile, was driving through neighborhoods several miles from the campus, talking about his marriage plans. He spoke excitedly about the ceremony they would have, the honeymoon they would take, the house they would buy eventually.
A cautious block at a time, he moved closer to the campus, ever on the lookout.
At five, Griglen was called back to her office. An hour later, Pernell pulled to a stop outside the main entrance at St. Thomas University. He took hold of Susan’s arm, gently this time, delaying her freedom.
“I love you very much,” he said, thrusting the package he had picked up earlier into her hands, “and I’m looking forward to marrying you.”
“Thank you,” she said softly.
Tentatively, she reached for the door handle, and when he made no effort to stop her, she opened it.
“I’ll be in touch and we’ll make plans,” he said, as she stepped from the car to precious freedom. She closed the door, and he drove away, leaving her standing on the street with her bruises, her tattered clothing, the small package he had handed her, and the splitting headache that had never gone away. She opened the package as she walked across the lush grass of the campus toward her distant dorm. Inside was a solitary red rose.
“One rose,” she said bitterly. “One stinking rose. That’s all I get for what I’ve been through. One stinking rose.”
She tossed it into a trash container.
14.
A Change of Scenery
AS SUSAN WALKED TOWARD HER DORM, one thought was on her mind.
“You’ve read all these stories about rape victims and the fact that the first thing they want to do is take a bath?” she remarked years later. “I can tell you it’s true. I thought if I could get to a shower, I’d stay there with that warm water running over my body for hours.”
She climbed the stairs at Sullivan and turned down the long corridor toward her room. The dorm, too, seemed deserted, but then Andrea and Erin appeared in the hall and rushed toward her, grabbed her in hugs and began asking questions.
“I survived,” Susan said.
“What can we do?” Erin asked.
“I don’t know,” Susan answered. “I just want to get to my room.”
“We called your mother to tell her that he had been here and that he had taken you,” Andrea said. “We told her we’d let her know any news as soon as we could.”
“I’ll call her,” Susan said tiredly.
Now other friends began gathering around, all asking questions but getting few answers.
Back in her room, Susan fell onto her bed exhausted and reached for the phone to call home.
Her mother picked up on the first ring.
“It’s me,” Susan said. “I’m back in my room.”
She did not go into great detail about what had happened but did tell her mother about the severe pain in her head.
“Do you want me to come down?” Irene asked.
“Yes, please,” Susan answered. “You know you always make things better, Mom.”
Although Susan’s parents had been keeping an anxious vigil by the phone since Erin had called the day before, Irene was now alone. Her husband had left only minutes earlier for a meeting at his church that was to be followed by a dinner in his honor. Irene had urged him to attend the dinner. So much planning had gone into it, she said, and he deserved such an honor. George had gone reluctantly, telling his wife to call the church if any news came. He had been gone only a few minutes and couldn’t have reached the church yet.
So after Irene called an airline and learned that there were two evening flights to Miami through Charlotte, she booked herself on the earlier flight, her husband on the second and called his church. He still had not arrived, but she left a message that Susan had called and was safe. She also left word of the travel arrangements, then rushed to the airport to catch her flight. She would arrive in Miami at ten that night. George, who would leave the church as soon as he got the message, missing the dinner in his honor, would get the later flight and arrive near midnight.
While Susan had been
on the phone with her mother, Erin had stepped across the hall and called Detective Griglen, who waited on the line while Erin returned to Susan’s room.
“I’ve got Detective Griglen of the Miami-Dade Police Department on the phone in my room,” Erin told Susan. “She’s been trying to find you since yesterday evening. I told her you’re back. She wants to talk to you.”
“I’m so tired,” Susan said weakly. “Tell her I can’t come to the phone right now.”
Erin returned to her room and delivered the message, but Griglen became insistent. “Tell her to come to the phone,” she said sternly. “I have to talk to her.”
This time, reluctantly, Susan walked across the hall and picked up the phone.
“This is Susan,” she said.
“I need for you to come down to the station right away,” the detective instructed her. “Is there anyone there who can give you a ride?”
Susan replied that she was too tired, that she needed a bath and that she needed to wait for her mother to arrive.
Later, Susan would recall that Griglen became angry and yelled at her, insisting that she have someone drive her to the police department for questioning.
“Lady,” she recalled telling the detective pointedly, “I’m not moving one foot until my parents get here. I don’t want to talk to anyone but my mom right now.”
In her report, Griglen wrote: “Victim…was very uncooperative…Victim stated she did not want to talk to me at this time and that she was awaiting her parents’ arrival in town. Victim stated she would decide what to do about this incident after talking to her parents.”
Years later, after learning about Susan’s experiences with Pernell in greater detail, Griglen would have more sympathy for Susan’s reaction. “Now, almost ten years later, I understand why. But at the time, I didn’t have the advantage of that understanding.”
Near eight that night, the telephone in Susan’s room rang.
“Susan,” said the voice on the line, sending a chill through her.
“Pernell,” she said, fighting back her rising anger. “Where are you?”
“Corky’s,” he said. “Corky’s Restaurant in Miami. You know where it is?”
“I know where it is, Pernell,” she said. “What do you want, Pernell?”
“I just thought I ought to remind you that I can still watch you. I can keep up with everything you do.”
“That’s fine, Pernell.”
She hung up the phone.
Irene caught a cab to the campus, and after Susan’s friends directed her to her daughter’s room, they stepped back as Susan rushed into her mother’s arms, crying like an injured child. Irene wanted to take Susan to an emergency room to see a doctor, but Susan resisted.
“It’ll be all right,” she said, though she wasn’t certain it ever would be. “I just need a chance to rest. Besides, Dad’s plane will be landing before long.”
Susan went with her mother to the airport to pick up her father and he embraced both at the same time. He put his hand lovingly on Susan’s head making her feel for an instant as though she were eight years old again.
“You know some strange people, Susan,” he said, gently patting his daughter’s head. “But be thankful you don’t have to live in Pernell Jefferson’s mind.”
They returned to Susan’s room, where Susan finally fell asleep in her bed, while her mother napped on her absent roommate’s bed and her father attempted fitful sleep on the floor.
Susan slept until mid-morning, and she and her parents spent most of Sunday talking about what had happened, although Susan withheld many details of her ordeal, details she wouldn’t share with anyone for years. Her mother continued to worry about the persistent pain in Susan’s head. The flesh around Susan’s ears was already showing the dark signs of bruising, but Susan insisted that she didn’t need medical treatment.
Satisfied that his daughter was safe and whole, George took a Sunday evening flight back to North Carolina. Irene checked into an on-campus motel to be with her daughter for as long as she was needed.
On Monday, Irene finally talked Susan into visiting the college’s physician, who found no critical injuries. A few day’s rest probably would alleviate the pain in her head, he said.
On Tuesday, three days after Detective Griglen had insisted that Susan come to the police station, Irene convinced Susan to talk with the detective, but Griglen was now dubious about her story.
“At the time, I thought it didn’t happen the way she said,” Griglen recalled. “I suspected that there was money and drugs involved and that she really was where she wanted to be.”
In her report, Griglen wrote: “Victim stated she let subject stay with her in the dorm on Thursday night…Victim states subject repeatedly struck her about the face and head, but no visible injuries were seen.” Griglen also noted that Susan had not attempted to escape when she and Pernell checked into the Fort Lauderdale motel. “Her reason was that she tried once (unknown when) before and she knew what would happen if she tried it again.”
“At the time, I felt there was no escaping Pernell,” Susan explained years later. “I always figured that if he could find me in less than a half day in a meeting room in a motel in Elizabeth City, North Carolina, he could find me just about anywhere. Pernell always wanted to be a bounty hunter anyway. He’d have been a great one because he’ll just wait you out.”
Griglen, however, saw Susan’s failure to attempt an escape as an indication of willingness to remain with Pernell.
On the same day that Susan met with Griglen, she also made another visit to the school doctor. The pain in her head had not gone away and at times was as intense as ever. The doctor referred her to a specialist who found that she had suffered a shattered eardrum and needed surgery. “He told me that in all his years of practice, he had never seen so much inner ear damage administered by a blow like that,” Susan said.
On Thursday, with her mother at her side, Susan reported to an outpatient clinic for surgery to repair her eardrum. She was sent to her dorm to rest through the night.
“She has suffered at least a twenty percent loss of hearing in one ear,” the physician told Irene, “and perhaps some diminished hearing in the other.”
“Permanently?” Irene asked.
“I’m afraid so,” the doctor said.
On Friday, Susan reported once more to the police station as she had promised Griglen earlier in the week and submitted to a polygraph examination.
“All I know about that,” Susan said years later, “is that they told me I passed.”
On Saturday, however, Griglen informed Susan and her mother that Carmen Puig-Domingues of the district attorney’s office had studied Griglen’s report and decided not to prosecute Pernell on abduction charges.
For Susan, the decision was startling.
“Why?” she asked, her disbelief obvious.
“Frankly, we see this as just a domestic dispute, a boyfriend-girlfriend disagreement,” Susan would remember Griglen telling her.
“Let me understand this,” Susan said angrily. “Because it’s girlfriend against boyfriend, you’re not going to do anything about this?”
“That’s right.”
“Could I swear out a warrant against Pernell on my own?” she asked.
“You could,” she was told, “but we don’t think it would do you much good.”
Years later, Susan confessed that she did not fully understand her rights, that she indeed could have forced law enforcement agencies in Florida to seek Pernell and to arrest him if he could be found.
“The police told me there were indications I was making it all up,” Susan said years later. “And they told me that the laws in the State of Florida don’t have rights for girlfriends.”
Griglen had one further addition to her police report. She dutifully recorded the Puig-Domingues decision to drop the case and added one further thought.
“But if the victim could provide any other evidence,” Griglen wrote in her r
eport, “the State would consider filing charges of simple battery against the subject.”
In capital letters at the end of the report, Griglen typed:
“DISPOSITION: EXCEPTIONALLY CLEARED.”
For the police, the case was closed.
“I always took my cases on an individual basis,” Griglen said in a 1995 interview. “I’m a people person and all I can go by is what the word is. In every case, you gather all the information you can and that’s all you can do.”
The information to which she did not have access at the time, particularly Susan’s long history of abuse at the hands of Pernell, would have made a difference, Griglen said.
“In this line of work, you encounter a lot of domestic abuse cases,” she said. “The way she is described to me now is very plausible. I have worked many cases in which the woman was helpless to escape the man who was beating her. You hear it all the time. ‘Oh, he loved me so much that he was willing to abduct me. He beat me, but what would I do without him? He’s all I’ve got.’
“If that’s all they know, how can they expect to do anything better than that? It’s a cycle women fall into and sometimes they never get out of it. In this case, Pernell was her life and Pernell was going to be her death.”
After the learning of the decision not to prosecute, Susan’s mother called a Quaker friend in Miami.
“I need a lawyer,” she said after exchanging pleasantries, going on to describe briefly what had happened.
“What you need,” her friend said, “is a good female lawyer. A woman would probably pursue this case with a little more enthusiasm than a man.”
“Do you have someone in mind?” Irene asked.
“Got a pen?”
Irene wrote down name and number and got an immediate appointment.
“Okay,” the lawyer said to Susan when they met a few hours later, “why don’t we begin from the beginning so I’ll know what we’re talking about here.”
Susan told her about her long relationship with Pernell and described what had happened. The lawyer questioned her closely.
“And where was this gentleman from the time he arrived on Thursday until this happened late Friday afternoon?” she asked.
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