Their plan was simple. Deny that sexual abuse of any kind had ever taken place. No, he didn’t know why his daughter would make such accusations. Melinda Bosch reprimanded the two detectives for hauling her client down to the station based on an outlandish story. It was obvious that these accusations were nothing more than the ramblings of a disturbed woman who wanted to get back at her father, for whatever reason. The cops reminded her it was their job to investigate any and all complaints. After an hour of denials, threats by his attorney, refusal to answer certain questions since they weren’t in court and the tried and true invoking of the Fifth Amendment, Phillip left the station with his lawyer on his heels.
There was one thing Phillip hadn’t counted on but he would soon remedy. One of the detectives mentioned that Nina told them Constance Buckwell was the only other person who could substantiate what she was saying. He hadn’t spoken to Constance in years, not since he ran into her downtown a few years ago. She was still fawning all over him as she had when she was in his employ. He dismissed her behavior as he always had and hadn’t thought much of the encounter. He had terminated her from her position as a caregiver for Cassie and to some extent Nina because she lacked discretion. What had she said and to whom? Why did Nina mention her specifically? He needed to squash that potential firebomb. He needed to see Constance immediately, before the cops got to her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“It’s always a pleasure to see you in my office, Nina,” Jack Kendall beamed. Nina’s boss, the CEO of Baseline, was a giant in the industry, though diminutive in stature. He was forever brushing an unruly mop of hair away from his eyes. She often teased him that the entire office should chip in to buy him a can of hairspray. There was a glint in his soft brown eyes, as if he had something mischievous up his sleeve.
“You might throw me out after you hear what I have to say.”
“Never,” he said jovially. “Did you share Baseline secrets with our competitors?”
“No.”
“Then have a seat,” he said, slapping the back of the chair around his mini conference table.
“A situation that could have major consequences for Baseline is taking shape. It involves one our board members, and I recommend he be removed before he can be linked to the company in any meaningful way.”
“What’s going on, Nina? This sounds serious.”
“It is.”
Nina didn’t know how to tell Jack about her connection to Phillip. He had always been one of her biggest supporters, and she didn’t want to compromise their relationship. She decided to go with a lie of omission.
“Dr. Copeland is being questioned by Westwood Police as the prime suspect in a sexual assault case.”
“Impossible! I’ve known Phillip for years. I’ve never met a man with more integrity.”
“We don’t always know people as well as we think we do, Jack. Especially when it comes to their private lives.”
“I can’t believe it. Phillip wouldn’t do something like this.”
“I recommend we prepare ourselves in case he gets charged and there’s a trial. A swift and quiet dismissal from the board would be best. I’ll get our corporate communications and PR team working on an appropriate response in the event it gets leaked to the media.”
“Atta girl. I’ll convene an emergency meeting of the board and apprise them of the situation.”
Jack was still shaking his head in a state of shock when Nina left his office.
* * *
NINA ARRIVED A FEW MINUTES early for her session to break the news to Doctor Issler before they tackled this week’s agenda.
“What’s on your mind?” Dr. Issler asked.
“Something I never thought I’d do. I’m still grappling with it but it’s been set in motion and I can’t take it back.”
“Wow, sounds serious. What is this it you’re talking about?”
“I went to the police. An investigation is underway. There’s no turning back now.”
“You’re forcing the perpetrator to face the consequences of his actions. That is huge, Nina. Kudos.”
“I’m not doing back flips yet. This is huge, as you pointed out, but there’s a lot at stake. Can I live with myself if he goes to prison? What about his young son who would never get a chance to know him until he’s too old to be a father to him? I don’t even know if he wants to be a father to Alexander, he doesn’t even carry the Copeland name. What if he’s found not guilty? How is he going to get his reputation back and what about me? I’ll be seen as that girl.”
Dr. Issler gave her a concerned look, like she was losing it. She knew she was on the verge of becoming hysterical so she had to take a deep breath and literally found herself lying on the clichéd therapist couch.
“Sorry. If it didn’t come out of my mouth it would mess with my head.”
“That’s quite all right. You took a brave step. Most victims never go that far. You’re speaking for all those who couldn’t or wouldn’t speak. That’s quite courageous.”
“I don’t feel so brave. A lot of lives will be impacted, and not for the better, because of me.”
“You sound worried about your father and the impact this action will have on him and others. What about you? How has disclosure affected your relationship with people around you?”
“I’ve been fortunate that my family has been supportive but you can’t win everyone over. Cassie wants nothing to do with me, my mother and husband are already planning a conviction celebration and there are people in his corner who tell me this is a huge mistake I’ll regret.”
“People like who?”
“My aunt Elizabeth said I was a disgrace to the family and should be ashamed for putting my poor father through this. She said her brother had been an outstanding father I should be thankful I have. His friend Dr. Obasanjo told me I shouldn’t allow bad advice to cloud my judgment and bring down a good man. He said whatever issues Phillip and I had could be resolved because that’s what families do. They resolve their issues privately.
“I also told my boss. I let him know Philip is a liability the company can do without.”
“Did you tell your boss who the victim was?”
“Of course not. I like my job. I also have a reputation to protect.”
Doctor Issler removed her glasses. “That’s—”
“Manipulative?”
“No. I was going to say that was a masterful move. You protected your job and destroyed his credibility in one brilliant stroke.”
“Maybe I should take up chess. What do you think?”
Dr. Issler chuckled. “I want to revisit a question I’ve asked you before.”
“Then why ask again?”
“Because circumstances have changed. Your answer could change.”
Nina didn’t get the point of this exercise but she would play along. “Okay. Ask away.”
“If your father were to burst into the room at this moment, fall to his knees, admit what he did, tell you it wasn’t your fault, and beg for your forgiveness, what would you do?”
“I already know it’s not my fault.”
“Really? Last session you talked about blaming yourself. Have you moved on that quickly?”
Nina gazed at a photo of Dr. Issler’s Golden Retriever on her desk. He has it easy, Nina thought. No worries, no problems. Simple existence. He was loved and cherished, loyal and protective. Her human father could learn a lot from that dog.
“My head knows I’m not to blame and my heart will catch up soon. But he makes it difficult.”
“How?”
“By pretending to care.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was thinking of a rather expensive diamond cross he bought me. He claims it was a gesture of thanks for convincing his wife to give him another chance. I explained to him why I couldn’t accept it. That was the last honest conversation I had with him. He also told me what happened the night I miscarried. For the first time in a long time, I saw him as human. He
tried to comfort me when it was obvious talking about the miscarriage was still painful but I rejected him. I almost felt sorry about it.”
“Is it possible the gift was a gesture of genuine thanks?”
“Anything is possible. But I have to keep reminding myself of who he is.”
“As a way of protecting your emotions?”
“Yes. He can slit your throat and convince you it’s your fault you fell on the knife.”
“He has a powerful grip on your imagination.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The stage was set for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts versus Dr. John-Phillip Copeland. There were ten counts of sexual abuse of a minor leveled at him, including aggravated child molestation, aggravated sexual battery, criminal solicitation of a minor, and lewd acts on a minor.
The case had all the makings of a TV crime drama: sex, betrayal, revenge, sibling rivalry, and marital discord. And that was before the opening statements were made. Nina dressed carefully that morning. It was late October and the temperatures were beginning to dip. She wanted to look chic yet sympathetic to a jury. She settled on a fitted sleeveless dress with a matching dress coat and belted waist. Her hair was pulled back in a sophisticated up-do. She went over and over again in her mind her rationale for doing this: It made sense. It was sound. It was just. It was time. Her mother came up from Dallas for the duration of the trial and Charlene had her second-in-command take over the salon so she could be available.
As they headed into the courtroom, Nina wondered if the District Attorney could secure a conviction against the defense. Melinda Bosch was one of the city’s top trial lawyers, a partner at Atherton, McGrath & Jacobs, a law firm specializing in clients with deep pockets. She never lost a case. The DA also had a noteworthy record: the highest conviction rate of any DA over the past twenty years. Dan McCloud took over the job ten years ago and the cameras loved his youthful good looks, passion for crime fighting, and the not-so-subtle whispers of political appointment that seemed to follow in his wake.
Everyone stood as the bailiff announced Judge Michael Sokoff’s entrance into the courtroom. Following the judge, the jury filed in and took their seats. It consisted of five men and seven women. Nina couldn’t figure out if that was a good thing or not. Apart from a twenty-something female, the jury makeup gravitated to upper forties and higher. Would this group sympathize with the defense?
The judge addressed the courtroom.
“This case may be difficult for many of you in the courtroom today. You may find some of the testimony of a graphic and disturbing nature. I ask that you keep your emotions under control. I will not have my courtroom turned into a spectacle. We’ll now hear Mr. McCloud’s opening statement.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, this case is about a man who had us all fooled while he perpetrated one of the most heinous crimes you could never imagine. And he got way with it for twenty-six long years. The victim? His own daughter.”
McCloud slowly walked toward the defense table and pointed to her father. “This man, Doctor John-Phillip Copeland, distinguished professor at a world-class educational institution, philanthropist, corporate board member, and community leader, repeatedly and consistently raped his young daughter, beginning when she was just ten years old and he was a married man of thirty-two.
“He only stopped because she had the courage to end it by moving halfway around the country to attend college, instead of staying close to home.”
The jurors’ eyes were glued to McCloud. Nina fought to suppress the urge to look at the defense table but lost. He was furiously taking notes. A bit early for that, she thought, but that could be part of his strategy, nit pick every single word, challenge it, in an effort to wear her down and the state’s case with her.
“You will hear from the plaintiff’s former caregiver,” McCloud continued. “A woman who has first-hand knowledge of the molestation the plaintiff suffered at the hands of her father. This caregiver lived under the same roof as the plaintiff and defendant. Doctor Maeve Issler, one of the world’s leading experts on childhood sexual trauma and the plaintiff’s therapist, will give expert testimony as it relates to this case. Multiple witnesses who knew the plaintiff as a child will testify to her crying out for help, but no one came to her rescue. We will expose the virtual conspiracy of silence surrounding the defendant, how the plaintiff was surrounded by adults who either knew or suspected the abuse was going on, but did nothing to stop it. Finally, you will hear from the plaintiff herself, a brave young woman who has come forward to seek justice by exposing a criminal and reclaiming her life. Thank you.”
Phillip sat at the defense table as stiff as a board. He would show no emotion no matter what was said during the prosecution’s case. He would turn on the charm when the jury looked in his direction, of course. He would appear confident, in control, a man who was one hundred percent innocent. A father who was devastated by what was going on. And depending on their reaction, he might even throw in a smile for good measure. Melinda warned him that things could get very ugly very fast. McCloud would be sure to bring out visuals to pull at the jury’s heartstrings—pictures of a beautiful little girl who was being terrorized by her own father. Bosch had told him molestation was not a crime you wanted to be on trial for if you ever tangled with the legal system. Phillip remembered wanting to wring his attorney’s neck. She had promised this case wouldn’t go to trial. Apparently, Nina was a convincing, credible witness and the prosecution felt this case could be a slam dunk. Nina was smart, articulate and brave. That’s the way the DA had described her in their meetings. She was all those things, Phillip thought to himself, but she would soon find out she shouldn’t have crossed him.
McCloud took his seat and readjusted his glasses. The judge suppressed a cough and called on the defense to present its opening argument. Melinda Bosch was a pretty blond with a fierce attitude. Nina anticipated a battle of wills later on in the trial.
“You’ve just heard a very eloquent and heart-felt opening statement by Mr. McCloud,” Bosch began. “You wouldn’t be human if you didn’t feel sorry for the plaintiff upon hearing that statement. Unfortunately for the prosecution, they forgot the one thing they need to build a case against my client: evidence, ladies and gentlemen. Why won’t the state be able to prove its case? Because this trial is not about justice, it’s about revenge.”
The jurors leaned forward in their chairs. Bosch was putting on a show.
“The defense will present compelling evidence that the plaintiff manufactured this story of sexual abuse because she blames her father for an unfortunate miscarriage she suffered. Unable to have children, she told this ridiculous story to the police… and so here we are. You’ll hear testimony that proves the plaintiff is a pathological liar, a manipulator. The state’s entire case is based on portraying my client as a monster. It’s their prerogative to do so, but when all the testimony is complete, my client will be exonerated.”
McCloud called Daphne Lockwood to the stand and the bailiff swore her in. Nina’s mother was feisty and fiercely protective, but this trial and everything that led up to it left her drowning in guilt and paralyzed by anger.
“Mrs. Lockwood, why was your daughter sent away from the love and security of the only family she’d ever known to live with virtual strangers?”
“I wanted Nina to know her father. When he said he wanted to raise her in America, I said yes. He had the resources to provide opportunities for her that I couldn’t.”
At the DA’s prodding, her mother gave a description of the idyllic childhood Nina lived before she returned to the States, surrounded by a loving mother and stepfather and tons of cousins, aunts, and uncles.
“How did you meet the defendant?”
“I was a student at Fordham University in New York. I came to Boston with some girlfriends of mine and we met at the home of a mutual friend.”
“How long were you and the defendant involved?”<
br />
“About six months. We were both busy with our studies and saw each other whenever we could.”
“What was his reaction when you told him you were pregnant?”
“He wasn’t happy. He said he wasn’t ready to be a father. He had ambitions and a kid would just get in the way.”
“How did you feel about his attitude?”
“I was disappointed, but I couldn’t have an abortion. It’s against my faith.”
“Did you tell him this?”
“I did, and we got married, but parted ways almost two years later. I knew he only did it out of obligation. So I took my daughter and went back to my island home to be around family.”
“Mrs. Lockwood, did you ever go back to college to finish your degree?”
“No,” Daphne said sadly. “Once I had Nina, my life changed. I got married to my late husband and settled into raising a family.”
“Did the defendant support you in any way?”
“He was good when it came to financial support. He sent a check regularly, but that was the extent of his parenting. He barely called and never visited.”
Nina observed her father’s reaction to this testimony. There was none. He looked straight ahead. It pissed Nina off. It was as if what her mother was saying didn’t matter. He couldn’t even give her the courtesy of paying attention.
“Mrs. Lockwood, was it difficult to let go of your daughter?”
“We were all saddened when she left. My husband had his doubts but I convinced him it would for the best. In the end, we were all wrong.”
“Did Nina ever give you any indication that anything was wrong?”
“No. Nina was a very agreeable child. It took her a while to warm up to her new environment, but that was to be expected. She never complained.”
Conspiracy of Silence Page 17