Conspiracy of Silence

by Gledé Browne Kabongo

  “That must have been a gut-wrenching decision. Not many people would file criminal charges against a parent.”

  “It was.”

  “How did coming forward affect your family?”

  “It was difficult. My sister Cassie has refused to speak to me since. In fact, she says we’re no longer sisters.”

  “Thank you Nina. Your witness,” McCloud said to the defense.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Bosch approached Nina with steely calm.

  “Did you tell your father you were going to get him, that you would make him pay?”

  “I did.”

  “Can you explain what you meant by that?”

  “He needed to be held accountable for his actions.”

  “So you didn’t concoct this story of sexual abuse to, as you said, get him?”

  “No.”

  “Nina, would you say my client was a responsible father?”

  “In what sense?”

  “I mean, he provided for you, he educated you, loved you, and wanted the very best for you.”

  “He provided for me and educated me throughout high school. As for the second part of your question, you’ll have to ask a shrink. I don’t know if it’s possible to love your child and destroy her at the same time. The two seem incompatible to me, but I’m no psychiatrist.”

  Maybe if she had done what he asked years ago, she could have saved herself a lot of misery and she would be anywhere but sitting in a courtroom, being made to look like a liar in front of a bunch of strangers who had no idea what it was like to have walked in the shoes of a molested child. She should have done it, and no psychiatrist or court of law would have blamed her.

  February 10, 1988

  I decided to talk to him about the trouble he brings to my room at night. I have to try, even if I know what will probably follow. I’m sick of staying up, too afraid to go to sleep because he might show up. I’m tired all the time. Mrs. Walsh yelled at me for nodding off in her Spanish class the other day. I can’t be falling asleep if I want to ace my AP exams. If I fail any of my classes, I won’t get into a good college and then my plan . . .

  Maybe if I tell Dad how it’s affecting me at school during the day, he’ll listen. I went to the kitchen and found him peeling an orange. Luckily, Cassie was at piano lessons with Theresa. I have to get it all out, really fast, otherwise, Dad will make me nervous and I won’t be able to say what I need to.

  “I just want you to know I got yelled at for almost falling asleep in Spanish class last week. I don’t know if Mrs. Walsh called you, but I have a good reason.”

  Dad gave me the ‘what are you talking about?’ look, so I knew Mrs. Walsh hadn’t called. He continued peeling the orange. That knife looked really scary. Maybe this wasn’t a good time, like I thought it would be.

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because . . . because . . . I was hoping you could help me.”

  “And how would I do that?”

  I never really talked to him about the trouble before. I never told him how it made me feel because he acted like he didn’t care. If he cared, he wouldn’t do it, right? He knows it upsets me and he does it anyway, but sometimes you have to say stuff out loud, and then maybe the other person will hear you and understand you.

  “Maybe . . . perhaps if . . . you wouldn’t come to my room anymore, I wouldn’t be so tired during school.”

  Dad didn’t say anything, just started walking toward me with that knife. There were bits of white still stuck to it and I was scared, scared, scared that I was about to find out just how sharp it was. I wanted to run but my legs wouldn’t move, like they were made of iron or something.

  Dad lifted the knife hilt-first and handed it to me. “Keep this knife. If I ever bother you again, plunge it into my chest,” he said.

  I looked at him wide-eyed, like he was some mad scientist or something. He was really serious, I could tell by his eyes, how scary they got. I didn’t move, I didn’t say anything.

  “Take it!” he screamed.

  My legs suddenly didn’t feel heavy anymore. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m really sorry.”

  Then I ran to my bedroom and drowned my sorrows with Mr. Tibbs. Two days later, he was back. My dad lies a lot. Even Mr. Tibbs thinks so.

  “Your Honor, I request permission to treat this witness as hostile.”

  “Request denied.”

  “You testified earlier that this alleged abuse took place mostly when my client was not traveling. Can you give us a more specific idea of the frequency of these alleged events?”

  The prosecution objected. “The witness already answered that question in earlier testimony.”

  “Not to my satisfaction,” the judge said. “Objection overruled.”

  Nina searched her mind to put her finger on the exact frequency. She knew where the defense was going with this and she had to tread carefully.

  “To the best of my recollection, four to five times a week when he wasn’t traveling. As his ex-wife testified, he often worked late into the night at home. That meant I was up late, too.”

  “Mrs. Kasai, who is Sonny Alvarez?”

  “A friend.”

  “How did the two of you meet?”

  “We met at Stanford. We kept in touch over the years.”

  “What exactly is the nature your relationship with Mr. Alvarez?”

  “We’re friends.”

  “Is that all, Mrs. Kasai?”

  “Your Honor,” McCloud objected, his patience wearing thin. “Is there a point to this? The witness has already answered the question.”

  “Move it along, Ms. Bosch.”

  “Isn’t it true that you were involved in an extramarital affair with Mr. Alvarez last year?”

  “No, I was not.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to change your answer?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Your honor, I’d like to enter copies of Mrs. Kasai’s airline tickets to Baltimore as Exhibit B, and photographs of her with Mr. Alvarez as Exhibit C. Her cell phone records will be entered as Exhibit D.”

  The photographs were the same ones her father used to blackmail her. They were open to interpretation, and there was nothing overtly sexual about them, but their smiling faces and physical contact could be interpreted numerous ways.

  “So how do you explain these photographs, multiple calls to your cell phone from Mr. Alvarez and vice versa?”

  “Mr. Alvarez and I are old friends from Stanford. He works for a research firm and I needed his help to find out what my father was up to.”

  “So you wanted his help in spying on my client?”

  “I had to protect myself and last time I checked, accessing public information wasn’t a crime.”

  Bosch moved on. “When your father came to visit your office last year, what did he ask you?”

  “He wanted me to retain my services as a communications consultant.”

  “Why would he ask you that?”

  “He’s your client, why don’t you ask him?”

  “Answer the question, young lady,” the judge admonished.

  “I was featured on the cover of Executive Insider, which got his attention. He thought I would be the right person for the job.”

  “Was that all?”

  “He asked me to dinner as a way of apologizing for trying to force me to give him an answer quickly.”

  “What was your response?”

  “I went to the dinner and in the end, still declined his offer. He got angry and sent the photographs you’ve been parading around to my husband.”

  “You testified earlier that you didn’t tell anyone about the abuse because you didn’t want to end up a ward of the state and destroy your family. But isn’t it true that you had family on your mother’s side you could have gone to if, as you say, my client were to be incarcerated?”

  “Yes, my mother had family, but no, I couldn’t stay with them.”

  “I’m sorry, I don�
��t understand.”

  “The few relatives my mother had were not in a position to take in a teenage girl and provide for her.”

  “Did you ask them?”

  “No.”

  “Did you hint to any of them that you might be in trouble and needed their help?”

  “No.”

  “Then how would you know they weren’t in a position to take you in?”

  “The relatives in question were an uncle and cousin. My cousin had a roommate, and they shared a one-bedroom apartment. My uncle had a live-in girlfriend and no place in his life for a teenage girl.”

  “Did you ever consider telling your stepmother that your father was abusing you, as you claim?”

  “No.”

  “What about your biological mother?”

  “No. For reasons I’ve already explained. I was too ashamed. And there was the burden of keeping the family together by remaining secretive.”

  “Did you tell a teacher or counselor at school?”

  “No.”

  “Over the past decade or more, there was plenty of opportunity to come forward. You were no longer in your father’s house. Everybody had grown up and moved on. You were on your own. Why didn’t you come forward then?”

  “I wanted to be free of my father and put that whole sordid chapter of my life behind me. In order to function and live a decent life, I had to file it away in my memory and hoped I would never have a reason to revisit the past.”

  “What changed?”

  “He was determined to break me. I had the audacity to go on and live a happy life without him in it.”

  Bosch walked over to the defense table and picked up a notepad. “Please help us gain some perspective, Nina. You had dinner with my client and his wife at the Bristol Lounge last summer, and you had lunch with him at the Top of the Hub restaurant in the spring. You had dinner with him at your home at the invitation of your husband. It sounds like you wanted this man—the man you claim you wanted to escape—in your life. In fact, it sounds like you went out of your way to make him part of it.”

  “Then you heard wrong, Ms. Bosch.”

  She ignored the response and moved on. “You also testified that if my client had gone to prison, it would mean the end of your ambition. Is that right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you explain what you meant?”

  “I meant that if I exposed him, the future I wanted for myself would have been a huge question mark.”

  “Are you saying that one of the reasons you didn’t come forward is because you didn’t want to lose the lifestyle you had become accustomed to?”

  “I’m saying I was too young and ill-prepared to deal with the consequences of coming forward. Staying quiet seemed a good idea at the time.”

  Bosch wasn’t convinced. “Let me see if I understand this. You claimed you were molested by my client. You told no one, including your best friend, who by her own testimony was like a sister to you. You didn’t tell your husband of several years, you didn’t tell your own mother, though you had ample opportunity over the years to come forward. And you expect this court to believe my client is guilty?”

  “I do,” Nina said boldly.

  “No further questions for this witness.”

  The State asked for a redirect.

  “Nina, did you ever discuss the abuse with the defendant?”

  “I did.”

  “When?”

  “On a couple of occasions.”

  Nina recapped the episode leading up to the miscarriage and the conversation she had with Phillip when he brought her the diamond cross as a gift.

  “What was his response?”

  “He wouldn’t acknowledge any of it happened. Either that or he would sidestep the issue entirely. He claimed he loved me and he was devastated when I left home and cut off all communication with him.”

  “How did that make you feel?”

  “Like trash. As if I weren’t worthy of his consideration or deserving of an answer.”

  “Why did you invite him to your home after you went to great lengths to keep him at bay all these years?”

  “My husband invited him to thank him for coming to my rescue when I had the miscarriage. At the time, my husband didn’t know the whole story.”

  “Can you tell us what happened?”

  “I went to his office at MIT because I discovered he was having an affair with my best friend. While we were there, I developed terrible cramping. I knew something was wrong with the baby. I tried to reach for my purse to call for help. He told me he would call, but kicked my purse out of reach. As the pain worsened, he just stood there.”

  “He didn’t call?”

  “Not while I was conscious and begging him to help me. I fell to the ground. He just watched. When I came to, I was in a hospital room.”

  “Your own father watched you have a miscarriage and didn’t help you until it was too late?”

  The defense objected. “My client called for help and got Mrs. Kasai the medical attention she needed. Anything else is pure conjecture.”

  “Sustained.”

  Nina was glad her testimony was over. She had made it through but wasn’t sure if it was the slam-dunk the DA wanted. Bosch made a compelling argument. Why hadn’t she told anyone? It was the very question Nina imagined must weigh heavy on the jurors’ minds.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  “The defense calls Casselia Copeland to the stand.”

  Cassie shot daggers at Nina as she made her way to the witness box.

  “I know you’re testifying under very trying circumstances,” Bosch said sweetly. “Tell us about your relationship with your father?”

  Cassie smiled and looked at him. “I feel lucky that he’s my dad. That’s why it’s so hard for me to be here. The man my sister describes doesn’t exist.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because he has been nothing but a great father to both of us. But Dad and Nina have always had a difficult relationship as long as I can remember.”

  “Did your sister or father ever tell you why their relationship was so rocky?”

  “They had a falling out years ago.”

  “About what?”

  “Nina’s boyfriend at the time was part of a group of people looking to start up a software company. Nina asked Dad to invest and he refused. The whole thing fell apart after that and she never forgave him.”

  Nina was livid. That incident was completely fabricated. Cassie knew better than to spit out that lie.

  “Did your father explain why he wouldn’t invest?”

  “He said it was too risky and he thought the guy was just using Nina.”

  “So he was looking out for your sister’s best interest?”

  “Exactly.”

  “What happened after the falling out?”

  “Nina wouldn’t return Dad’s calls. He tried to explain that he was protecting her, but she wouldn’t budge. Things got worse when she got married.”

  Cassie was prodded for further details.

  “My sister never told our father she was engaged. She begged me not to breathe a word to him. I couldn’t take the guilt, so he eventually heard it from me just before the wedding.”

  “So your sister asked you to withhold the truth?”

  “Yes.”

  “What was your father’s reaction when he heard she was engaged?”

  “He was really happy. He thought a pending marriage was just what the two of them needed to make up. He was excited at the possibility of becoming a grandfather.”

  “What was your father’s reaction when you told him his eldest daughter was about to be married and neither informed nor invited him?”

  “He broke down. I’d never seen Dad cry before.”

  Bosch handed Cassie a box of tissues.

  “He just kept saying he didn’t understand why she wouldn’t want him at her wedding. He still bought her a wedding gift, though.”

  “Did she accept it?”

 
; “No. She asked me to return it to him.”

  “What did he say when the gift was returned?”

  “He was hurt.”

  “Has your attitude toward your sister changed in light of the allegations she’s made?”

  “Yes. Before she was my big sister, but now…”

  “But now?” Bosch asked expectantly.

  “Now I think she’s a liar and a manipulator.”

  Nina felt sorry for her younger sibling. Their father had brainwashed her to the point where she sounded like his hired mouthpiece. In a way, she was as much his victim as Nina.

  “Why do you characterize your sister as a liar and manipulator?”

  “Because she’s got everyone fooled. She comes across as Miss Goody two-shoes, but she’ll do and say anything to get her way.”

  “You seem very hurt by her actions.”

  “The things she’s accusing Dad of are disgusting. Dad would destroy anyone who tried to hurt his children. He wouldn’t turn around and hurt either one of us. He would constantly brag about how well Nina did in school.”

  “Were there any other instances where your sister asked you to hide the truth?”

  “Yes. She asked me not to tell her husband that our father was here in Boston. I wasn’t allowed to talk about Dad when Marc was around.”

  “Thank you, Cassie.”

  McCloud got straight to the point. “Ms. Copeland, isn’t it possible that your sister rejected the defendant’s attempts at reconciliation because of what she has been saying all along, that he molested her and she wanted no part of him?”

  Cassie was dumbfounded. That line of reasoning had obviously never occurred to her. She looked at Phillip, as if searching for guidance, but no answer came. “I never thought about it that way. But I still don’t believe what she says.”