“Do you believe everything your father tells you?”
“Of course. Dad always tells me the truth.”
“Would it surprise you to learn that none of Nina’s boyfriends ever asked your father to invest in any company?”
“Yes, he did.”
“What was the boy’s name?”
“I don’t know.”
The DA rattled off a series of rapid-fire questions that wilted Cassie’s resolve. “Where was he from? Where did he live? What kind of software did they want your dad to invest in? Where was the company going to be located?”
“Objection,” the defense yelled. “He’s badgering the witness.”
Before the judge could rule, McCloud withdrew the questions but the point had already been made.
“Are you jealous of your sister, Cassie?”
“No, I’m not jealous of my sister,” she said, as if insulted by the very idea. “Why would I be jealous of somebody like that?”
“But you already told us that you were.”
Cassie looked confused. “I did not!”
“You said defendant bragged about her. I wonder if there’s a bit of sibling rivalry going on here?”
“No. I’m here because—”
He wouldn’t let her finish. “Are you here testifying because you believe the defendant is innocent or because it’s a way for you to stick it to your sister for taking away your meal ticket?”
Bosch objected. “Badgering the witness.”
“Sustained.”
“That’s not true,” Cassie responded.
Dan McCloud had no sympathy. “Cassie, when did you graduate from college?”
“I didn’t,” she said softly, lowering her head.
“So you lived under the same roof as you sister, were afforded the same opportunities, yet you’re a college drop-out while your sister went to Stanford on a full academic scholarship, and later graduated top of her MBA class at Harvard. How does that happen?”
An exasperated defense objected. “Your Honor, I fail to see what any of this has to do with the facts of this case.”
The judge ordered the DA to move on.
“Where do you work, Ms. Copeland?”
Bosch couldn’t yell objection fast enough. “This is beyond ridiculous.”
“My patience is wearing thin, Mr. McCloud. Where is this going?”
“Your Honor, I promise there is relevance to this line of questioning.”
“I don’t have a job right now,” Cassie answered sheepishly.
“Isn’t it true that your sister Nina encouraged you to go back to school to get your degree?”
“Yes.”
“Did she offer to help you with tuition?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you take her up on her offer?”
“Nina and I are very different people. Climbing the corporate ladder wasn’t that important to me.”
“What is important to you then?”
Cassie couldn’t answer and McCloud moved on. “You lived in a pretty nice apartment in Boston, you travel, drive a nice car and wear designer clothes. That’s not bad for someone with no degree and no job. Who pays for your expensive lifestyle?”
“My father is very generous.”
“So it is your testimony that your sister has been loving and supportive, and wanted the best for you. She has volunteered to help you gain your independance. It is also your testimony that your quality of life is dependent on your father’s generosity. Who’s the liar and manipulator now?” he asked as he walked away.
Elizabeth Copeland, Nina and Cassie’s bossy paternal aunt who lived in Minnesota was up next. She was a confident woman who was used to being in charge. She described her brother’s relationship with his daughters as idyllic and went on about how Phillip felt guilty for missing eight years of Nina’s life, and tried to compensate for it by spoiling her. She described her relationship with Nina as a happy one. She claimed she was unaware of any problems between Nina and her father.
Dan McCloud wasted no time with his cross-examination.
“You just testified that you live and work Minneapolis, so how would you know if there were any problems between the defendant and his daughter?”
“Phillip would have told me,” she answered indignantly.
“Really? Your brother would have told you he was molesting his own daughter?”
“Objection!” Bosch squawked.
McCloud withdrew the question. “What was your reaction when your niece told you she was molested by the defendant?”
“I didn’t believe her.”
“Why not?”
“I think my niece is punishing her father for not being around during her early years.”
“Are you a medical professional, Ms. Copeland? A doctor of mental health?”
“No.”
“So how did you come to that conclusion?”
“I love Nina, but she’s a very insecure person. She told me on numerous occasions that growing up, she felt rejected by her father since he barely acknowledged her existence. I think these accusations are her way of getting back at him for what she considers a grave injustice.”
“Do you have any evidence to back up this theory?”
“No.”
* * *
DR. BENJAMIN OBASANJO, JENNY’S EX-HUSBAND and destroyer of the allegedly incriminating voice recording, testified next. His testimony was another dose of hero worship for Phillip’s parenting skills and proclamations that his friend would never hurt his daughter. After his heartfelt speech about knocking sense into Phillip if he ever suspected he was molesting his own child, he was questioned about Jenny’s claim of evidence to the contrary.
“But your ex-wife testified that you destroyed evidence proving otherwise,” Bosch said.
“Jenny has remained bitter since the divorce. She’ll say anything to disparage me.
“This tape that she speaks of never existed?”
“There was a tape. But many years have passed. It’s possible her memory is distorted.”
“Why did you destroy it?”
“There was no need to hang on to it. I had what I needed and Gloria was dismissed from our employ.”
Nina could see Benjamin really believed what he was saying. Her father had everyone fooled, and Ben had just perjured himself to protect his friend.
Dan McCloud kept his cross-examination brief. “You said if there had been any inkling that something like this was going on someone would have said something. But witnesses testified earlier that they suspected something was wrong. Could you explain the discrepancy?”
Ben couldn’t.
The defense saved its most powerful witness for last: State Senator Joanna Warren Smith. A rising political star with buzz of a US Senate run surrounding her, the pint-sized lawmaker with deep blue eyes and delicate features was a tigress in the state house, especially when it came to legislation regarding women’s issues.
“Senator, we thank you for taking time from your extremely busy schedule to tell the truth on behalf of your friend and collaborator,” Bosch said, obviously sucking up.
“I’m here to see that justice is served.”
“Senator, how long have you known my client?”
“Over ten years.”
“In what capacity?”
“Phillip and I served on the committees of several organizations together. Eventually, he became an ardent supporter of my efforts to strengthen the laws to prevent violence against women.”
“Could you expand on that, Senator?”
“The Dare to Dream Foundation is one of the largest contributors to battered women’s shelters and rape crisis centers across the state. There’s no question he’s dedicated and has put his money where his mouth is. A lot of politicians and community leaders specialize in rhetoric, but not Phillip. He’s down in the trenches with those of us who feel strongly about these issues and are prepared to do the hard work to see change happen.”
“W
hat were your thoughts when you heard such an outstanding citizen was being accused of a sex crime?”
“I thought someone was playing a practical joke on me. It seemed so preposterous.”
“How would you characterize your friend, Senator?”
The senator looked at Phillip warmly.
“He is one of the few men whom I deeply admire. He’s a man of integrity and high moral fiber.”
“Thank you, Senator.”
“Senator, did you know the defendant had an older daughter?” McCloud asked.
“Not until recently.”
“Did you also know he had an illegitimate son, fathered with a young woman who was only seventeen at the time of the child’s conception?”
Bosch was on her feet. “The senator is not here to comment on my client’s personal life.”
“Your Honor, the senator has testified to the high moral fiber of the defendant, whom she’s known for over a decade. This question is completely relevant.”
The judge overruled the objection.
“Well… this is the first I’ve heard about that.”
The DA thanked the senator for her testimony.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Forensic document examiner Fred Gilson testified to the authenticity of the diary pages found at Phillip’s house, confirming that the content was indeed written by Nina. While the new evidence was great news for the prosecution, Nina dreaded what was to come next. She had to read out the contents of the pages out loud for the record. She had thought the worst was over after her testimony. She was wrong.
Nina was reminded she was still under oath and wearily sat in the witness stand for the second time.
“Nina, I know this is painful, but please read what you wrote on March 18th 1989. Please speak clearly.”
“He was in my room again last night,” she read. “I told him I wasn’t feeling well but it didn’t matter. He said he had a tough day at work and it would make him feel better. He said Theresa didn’t understand him the way I did. It was the same old story. I don’t know if he thinks I actually believe that crap. He asked me to undress slowly but then he must have gotten impatient because he started kissing me while he caressed my breast. It hurt because he was rough.
I thought someone would hear him but no one did. I went to my happy place, although I could feel my tears spilling onto the pillow. When he was finished, he rolled off me. I lay there still, willing him to just disappear and never come back. He walked out without saying a word. When the coast was clear, I went to the bathroom to wash off his stench, like I have dozens of times before. No one ever notices. No one cares.”
Nina wanted to collapse under the weight of her shame, but she resolved to hold her head high. First, she looked directly at the jurors, making eye contact with each and every one of them. Then she looked at her father. The silence in the courtroom had become a spectator, too. For the longest of seconds, Nina and Phillip were the only two people in the room, like two prized fighters sizing each other up, each willing their opponent to blink first. And then she did the one thing she hadn’t been able to do in twenty-six years.She mouthed the words, I forgive you.
A subdued Bosch approached Nina. “Throughout this trial, it’s been established that you have been less than truthful about a variety of important matters. Why should we believe you now? Why should we believe what’s written in those pages is any truer than the lies you’ve told?”
“You shouldn’t. But you should believe the sixteen-year-old girl who wrote that diary entry. She never lied to you.”
District Attorney Dan McCloud was presenting his closing argument to the jury.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this case is about one thing and one thing only: a horrific crime committed by a defendant who went unpunished for years. As if traumatizing his young daughter wasn’t enough, the defendant deliberately sought her out years later so he could continue his reign of terror over her life. Nina Kasai simply wanted to put the anguish of her painful childhood behind her, and she had largely succeeded. But the defendant had other ideas. Mrs. Kasai finally had the courage to come forward and do what many victims of sexual assault cannot do. Nina Kasai couldn’t stop her father as a young girl. She endured this hellish abuse beginning at age ten, ladies and gentlemen. Have you taken a look at a ten-year-old lately?”
A photo of Nina at age ten was blown up and pinned to an easel for all could see. She looked small and frail and afraid. Her eyes were not quite vacant, the innocence of childhood still struggling to hold on.
“It took guts for Nina Kasai to sit before you, ladies and gentlemen. You’ve heard from Lieutenant O’Reilly, who testified to the fact the adults around her cared more about protecting the abuser than the abused. And the victim herself told you everything you needed to know in graphic detail. The defense will have you believe this case is about revenge, an angry woman wanting to destroy a decent man. There is nothing decent about a man who would repeatedly and viciously violate his own child, then hunt her down after she managed to escape with the intention of victimizing her all over again. It is an irrefutable fact that Phillip Copeland broke the law. Don’t let him go unpunished. Give Nina the justice she has been denied for years. Find the defendant guilty.”
“Beyond the shadow of a doubt,” Bosch said. “This is what the state has failed to prove in this case. You’ve heard a lot of testimony depicting my client as a monster, how he physically and sexually abused his daughter, how he manipulated her. But the evidence also shows a plaintiff who has a history of misrepresenting the truth. In fact, at times, she was deliberately deceptive—by her own admission. The state’s entire case rests on this woman’s flawed testimony. The plaintiff had years to come forward, but did she? No. Did she reveal this alleged abuse to her most trusted circle, her mother, her husband, her best friend? No, she did not. Did she spend time with my client, the man she claimed brutally abused her? The man she claimed she wanted to escape? She absolutely did.
“You’ve also heard testimony about who my client truly is: a committed and loving parent, philanthropist, and community leader. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, justice can only be served if Dr. Copeland is allowed to return to the community that so desperately needs him, the university that depends on him to train our future leaders. The only just verdict is not guilty.”
* * *
NINA AND MARC WERE FINISHING up packing for their trip to Los Angeles when the DA called to say the jury was back after two days of deliberation. As they walked up the steps of the courthouse, Nina turned to Marc. “No matter what the verdict is, I want you to know I wouldn’t have had the courage to make it this far if it weren’t for your unwavering support. Thank you for loving me so completely and unconditionally. I know now we can survive anything.”
His only response was to kiss her on the forehead, as he had a million times before, letting her know much he adored her.
The twelve men and women filed into the jury box, their expressions solemn.
“Before we get to the verdict, I would like to remind everyone to conduct themselves with the utmost sense of decorum and remain quiet when the verdict is read,” said Judge Sokoff. He instructed defense council to rise along with the defendant.
“Has the jury reached a verdict?”
The jury foreman answered affirmatively and the judge directed him to read the verdict.
“As to the charge of aggravated child molestation, count one in the indictment, we the jury find the defendant guilty. As to the charge of aggravated sexual battery, count two in the indictment, we the jury find the defendant guilty.”
Nina was oddly calm as the rest of the verdict was read and her father was found guilty on all counts. She could hear Marc asking if she was okay, but her lips wouldn’t form a response. Her father sat with his shoulders slouched forward and Cassie was silently weeping. Nina got up from her seat and walked out of the courtroom. Her first stop was the ladies’ room, where she threw up all over the porcelain sink. After splashing h
er face with cold water, her weakened knees carried her to the steps of the courthouse, where she sat in the forty-degree temperature with no coat on. She felt nothing. As voices in the distance got closer, she identified them as belonging to Marc and her mother. Charlene was not too far behind. Her mother was telling her she would catch pneumonia and a worried Marc tried to convince her to get back inside. When she didn’t move, he scooped her up in his arms and took her somewhere warm.
Phillip sat at the defense table in a haze. His entire body felt like someone had injected him with a massive dose of Novocain. Guilty! On all counts. What the hell happened? How could they find him guilty? His lawyer was saying something about appealing but he wasn’t paying attention. He would be sent to prison like a common criminal, all evidence of his prior life buried. The only thing people would remember about him was that he was a convicted rapist. He couldn’t stand it. It wasn’t fair! He wanted to scream it wasn’t fair and the whole trial had been a mistake. He wanted to wake up and find himself in his den sipping a drink.
This was all a mistake wasn’t it? What would happen to him in prison? Could he survive? He looked behind him and saw Cassie weeping. What would happen to her? She couldn’t make it on her own. Why didn’t somebody stop Nina before it got too far? He had failed to stop her and this was the end result. He was babbling in his own mind. His thoughts were all running up against each other and after a while, nothing made sense. His head started hammering. He just wanted the pain to end.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
One month later, John-Phillip Copeland was sentenced to ten years in prison with the possibility of parole in five. Nina skipped the sentencing. She couldn’t bear to see him that way. After the guilty verdict, she took a trip out to Worcester, to visit her baby brother, Alexander. The reception from Tracey was cool at best but she struck Nina as a realist. The reality was that the hefty child support payments would no longer be flooding her bank account. The reality was her little boy would grow up without a father, a too common occurrence in black households.
Conspiracy of Silence Page 24