by Robin Cook
“Give the jury some sense of what you are talking about.”
“Well, it’s hard to remember the whole tirade. He said he hated her because she drove everybody crazy, including herself. He said she drove him crazy because all she ever talked about was her BMs and that sometimes she’d save it to show it to him. He also said she drove him crazy because she never did anything he said. He called her a hypochondriacal, clinging excuse for a wife, and an entitled bitch that demanded he hold her hand and listen to her complaints. He said her passing was a blessing to everybody, including herself.”
“Wow!” Tony said, pretending he’d heard the testimony for the first time and was shocked. “So I guess it was your impression that from what Dr. Bowman had said, he was glad Patience Stanhope had died.”
“Objection,” Randolph said. “Leading.”
“Sustained,” Judge Davidson said. “Jurors will disregard.”
“Tell us what you thought after Dr. Bowman’s tirade.”
“I thought he was glad she died.”
“Hearing such a tirade, as you put it, you must have thought Dr. Bowman was really upset. Did he say anything specific about his being sued, meaning that his performance and decision-making would be reasonably questioned in a court of law?”
“Yes. He said it was an outrage that the oddball bastard Jordan Stanhope was suing him for loss of consortium when he couldn’t imagine Mr. Stanhope having sex or wanting to have sex with such a miserable hag.”
“Thank you, Miss Rattner,” Tony said, collecting his widely spread papers from the lectern’s surface. “No more questions.”
Once again, Jack glanced over at Alexis. This time, she met his eyes. “Well,” she whispered philosophically, “what can Craig expect? He certainly dug his own hole. Leona’s testimony was about as bad as I imagined it would be. Let’s hope you can come up with something on the autopsy.”
“Maybe Randolph can do something on cross. And don’t forget Randolph has yet to start the case for the defense.”
“I’m not forgetting. I’m just being realistic and putting myself in the place of one of the jurors. It doesn’t look good. The testimony is convincingly making Craig sound like a completely different person than he is. He has his faults, but the way he cares about his patients is not one of them.”
“I’m afraid you’re right,” Jack said.
13
NEWTON, MASSACHUSETTS
Wednesday, June 7, 2006
3:30 p.m.
Let me see the floor plan again,” Renaldo said to Manuel. They were sitting in a black Chevrolet Camaro parked on a tree-lined side street around the corner from the Bowmans’ residence. They were dressed in nondescript brown work clothes. On the backseat was a canvas carpetbag similar to those carried by plumbers for tools.
Manuel handed Renaldo the plans. They crinkled as Renaldo unrolled them. Renaldo was sitting behind the steering wheel. He had to fight to get the paper to flatten out enough to look at it.
“Here’s the door we’re going in,” Renaldo said, pointing. “You oriented?”
Manuel leaned over, almost touching Renaldo’s shoulder, so the top of the page was pointing away from him. He was sitting in the front passenger seat.
“For shit sake,” Renaldo complained. “It’s not that complicated.”
“I’m oriented!” Manuel said.
“What we have to do is locate all three of the girls fast so none of them has a chance to alert the others. You know what I’m saying?”
“Sure.”
“So they’ll either be here in the family room/kitchen, probably watching TV,” Renaldo said, pointing to the area on the plans, “or they will be in their separate bedrooms.” He struggled to get to the second page. The plans wanted to roll back up into their original tight cylinder. He ended up tossing the first page into the backseat. “Here are the bedrooms along the back of the house,” he said when he got the second page flattened. “And here are the stairs. You got it? We don’t want to be searching, and it has to happen fast.”
“I understand. But there’s three of them and only two of us.”
“It’s not going to be hard to scare the shit out of them. The only one that might be trouble is the oldest, but if we can’t handle this, we’re in the wrong business. The plan is to tape them up fast. I mean, really fast. I don’t want any screaming. Once we get them taped up with gags, then the fun begins. Okay?”
“Okay,” Manuel said. He straightened.
“You have your gun?”
“Of course I have my gun.” He pulled a snub-nosed thirty-eight out of his pocket.
“Put it away, for Christ’s sake,” Renaldo snapped. His eyes darted around to make sure there were no strollers. The area was quiet. Everyone was at work. The widely spaced houses seemed deserted.
“What about your mask and gloves?”
Manuel pulled those out of his other pocket.
“Good,” Renaldo said. He checked his watch. “Okay, this is it. Let’s move it!”
While Manuel got out of the car, Renaldo reached into the backseat and got the canvas bag. He joined Manuel, and they walked back to the intersection, turning right. They didn’t hurry, nor did they talk. Due to the canopy of leaves, the street was shaded yet each house blazed in bright sunlight. An elderly woman was walking a dog in the distance, but she was heading away from them. A car approached and passed by without stopping. The driver ignored them.
Coming abreast of the Bowman property, they briefly stopped, looking up and down the street.
“Looks good,” Renaldo said. “It’s a go!”
Maintaining a normal gait, they crossed the edge of the Bowmans’ front lawn. They appeared like two workmen on a legitimate errand. They entered the treeline separating the two neighboring homes and were soon even with the backs of the houses. Eyeing the back of the Bowman house, they could see the door they intended to enter. It was about forty feet away, across a patch of sundrenched lawn.
“Okay,” Renaldo said. “Time for the masks and gloves.”
Each quickly donned the items: masks first, gloves second. They eyed each other and nodded.
Renaldo snapped open the canvas bag. He wanted to be certain he had everything. He handed Manuel a roll of duct tape, which Manuel pocketed. “Let’s do it!”
Reflecting their professionalism, they were across the lawn and through the door in a blink of the eye and with almost no sound. Once inside, they hesitated and listened. They could hear a TV with canned laughter from the family room. Renaldo flipped a thumbs-up and motioned for Manuel to move forward. Treading lightly and moving quietly, they passed through the study and down the central corridor. Renaldo was in the lead. He stopped just shy of the arched entrance to the family room. Slowly, he looked around the edge of the arch, seeing an ever-expanding view first of the kitchen and then of progressively more of the family room. When he saw the girls, he pulled himself back. He raised two fingers, indicating two girls. Manuel nodded.
Renaldo then used his hand to indicate a wide, counterclockwise circle in the air to suggest they move through the kitchen, then approach the couch in front of the TV from the rear. Manuel nodded. Renaldo brandished his roll of duct tape. Manuel pulled out his.
After silently placing the canvas bag on the floor, Renaldo readied himself. He looked at Manuel, and Manuel indicated that he was ready.
Moving quickly but quietly, Renaldo followed the route he’d mapped out. The girls’ heads could just be seen over the back of the brightly colored couch. The TV volume, which had seemed low when they’d first heard it, was not low, especially the laughing sequences. Renaldo and Manuel were able to move up directly behind the unsuspecting girls.
With a nod from Renaldo, each man sprang around either end of the couch and glommed on to the respective girl. The men were rough and decisive, grabbing the children by the necks and pressing their faces into the soft pillows of the couch. Both girls had made feeble reflex squawks, but the sounds were immediately muffled
. Using their teeth, the men pulled off lengths of duct tape from each of their rolls, and keeping their weight on the girls, they managed to bind each of their hands behind their backs. Almost simultaneously, they rolled the girls over. The girls gasped for breath, wide-eyed with terror. Renaldo put his finger over his closed lips to indicate that the girls must remain silent, but there was no need. Both girls did all they could do to satisfy their air hunger, and they were frightened to near paralysis.
“Where’s your sister?” Renaldo hissed through clenched teeth. Neither girl spoke, watching their captors with unblinking intensity. Renaldo snapped his fingers at Manuel and pointed to Meghan, who was trembling in his grasp.
Manuel let go of Meghan long enough to pull out a square rag, which he roughly pressed into her mouth. She tried to resist by twisting her head from side to side, but it was to no avail. Manuel slapped a short piece of duct tape over the lower part of the girl’s face, securing the gag. Rapidly, a second piece of tape was added, forcing Meghan to breathe loudly through her nose.
Seeing what had happened to Meghan, Christina quickly tried to be cooperative. “She’s upstairs taking a shower,” she cried breathlessly.
Renaldo rewarded her by quickly gagging her in the same fashion as Manuel had gagged Meghan. Then both men bound the girls’ feet before yanking them upright and then together to tape them back to back. At that point, Renaldo gave them a push and they toppled over in an awkward heap, both still struggling for breath.
“Stay here!” Renaldo growled as he picked up his roll of duct tape.
Moving silently but quickly, Renaldo ascended the stairs. Once in the upstairs hallway he could hear the shower. It was a distant, soft, sibilant sound, which he followed, passing several bedrooms with open doors. The third door on the right opened into a bedroom unique in its disarray. Clothes, books, shoes, and magazines were haphazardly tossed about on the floor and on all horizontal surfaces. Black thong panties and a bra were draped over the bathroom’s marble threshold. From within the bathroom, clouds of steam billowed out into the room.
With rising anticipation, Renaldo quickly traversed the room, being careful to avoid the debris. He poked his head into the bathroom but could barely see through the dense mist. The mirror was completely fogged over.
It was a small bathroom with a pedestal sink, a toilet, and a low tub that also served as a shower. An opaque white shower curtain with black sea horses hung from a silver-colored rod, and it was moving both from the forces of the water and rising steam and also from occasional contact by the shower’s occupant.
Renaldo briefly debated how best to handle the situation. With the other girls already secured, it really wasn’t a problem. In fact, knowing the girl was naked was a turn-on, and that had to be factored in as well. He reached out with the roll of duct tape and placed it on the edge of the sink. He couldn’t help but smile, thinking he was being paid to do something he might pay to do. He knew the girl in the shower was fifteen going on twenty-one, with a couple of knockers worth a second look.
After thinking about a few different alternatives, including waiting for the girl to finish and get out of the shower herself, Renaldo merely grabbed the shower curtain and whipped it back. It was a tension rod, and the force of Renaldo’s jerk pulled the whole apparatus off the wall, and it tumbled onto the floor in a heap.
At the moment of the shower rod and curtain’s disappearance, Tracy had her back to the shower with her head under the torrent, forcibly rinsing her thick tresses. She hadn’t heard the clatter, but she must have felt the surge of significantly cooler air because she leaned forward out of the gush of water and opened her eyes. As soon as she caught sight of the black-ski-masked intruder, she screamed.
Renaldo reached in and grabbed a handful of wet hair and yanked Tracy from the bathtub. Her feet tripped on the rim, and she fell headlong to the floor. Renaldo let go of her hair and put a knee into the small of her back while he lunged for her flailing wrists. Using decisive strength, he forced her hands behind her back, snatched the duct tape off the sink, and as he’d done downstairs, used his teeth to pull a strip of tape from the roll. With rapid movements, he wound the tape in and out and around Tracy’s wrists. Within only a few seconds, her hands were securely bound.
Through this procedure, Tracy had maintained a scream, but it was dampened by the sound of the shower. Renaldo rolled her over. He pulled a square rag from his pocket, balled it up, and began stuffing it into her mouth. Tracy was a quantum stronger than Christina, and she was able to resist until Renaldo straddled her and used his knees to secure her head. Then she succeeded in biting his finger, which infuriated him.
“Bitch!” he yelled. He slapped her hard, splitting her lip. She still resisted, but he was able to get the gag into her mouth and place several pieces of duct tape to hold it in place. Then he got up and stared down at the terrified teenager.
“Not bad.” Renaldo commented as he took in Tracy’s nubile figure and the belly button piercing. His eyes stopped at a small tattoo of a snake just north of her mons pubis. “Already shaving your snatch, and you got a tattoo. I wonder if Mommy and Daddy know that. Aren’t you a little ahead of yourself, girl?”
Renaldo reached down and hooked a hand under one of Tracy’s armpits and hoisted her roughly to her feet. She responded by bolting out of the bathroom, catching Renaldo off guard. He had to race to catch her before she got out of her bedroom.
“Not so fast, sister,” Renaldo snarled, yanking her around to face him. “If you’re smart and cooperative, you won’t be hurt. If you’re not, I guarantee you’ll be a very sorry girl. Read me?”
Tracy stared defiantly back at her attacker with fiery eyes.
“Feisty thing, huh?” Renaldo questioned derisively. He glanced down at her breasts, which he found considerably more impressive with her upright posture. “And sexy, too. How many snakes have you had in that snake den of yours? I bet a lot more than your parents think, huh?” He nodded his head knowingly.
Tracy continued to glare at Renaldo, with her chest heaving from her adrenaline rush.
“Let me tell you what’s going to happen here. You and me are going to march downstairs to the family room for a family reunion with your sisters. We’ll tape you girls together so you’ll be one big happy family unit. Then I’m going to tell you a few things I want you to tell your parents. Then we’re out of here. Does that sound like a plan?”
With a push, Renaldo directed Tracy out into the hall. He still had ahold of her arm just above the elbow. When they came to the stairs, he urged her to descend.
In the family room, Manuel was dutifully standing over Meghan and Christina. Meghan was silently crying, as evidenced by her tears and the intermittent trembling of her torso. Christina was still wide-eyed with terror.
“Nice work,” Manuel said as the naked Tracy was led over to the couch. He couldn’t help eyeing Tracy as Renaldo had done.
“Sit the two up facing either end of the sofa,” Renaldo commanded.
Manuel yanked the two preteens up and rotated them as Renaldo had directed.
Renaldo directed Tracy to sit on the sofa’s edge with her back to her sisters. When she was in place, he wound tape around all three. When he was finished, he straightened up and checked his handiwork. Satisfied, he handed the tape to Manuel and told him to gather up their stuff.
“Listen, sweeties,” Renaldo said to the girls, but mostly to Tracy, with whom he made direct eye contact. “We want you to deliver a message to your parents. But first let me ask you something. Do you know what an autopsy is? Just nod your head if you do!”
Tracy didn’t move. She didn’t even blink.
Renaldo slapped her again, further opening her split lip. A trickle of blood ran down her chin.
“I’m not going to ask you again. Nod or shake your head! Whatever is appropriate.”
Tracy nodded quickly.
“Good!” Renaldo said. “Here’s the message for Mommy and Daddy. No autopsy! You got tha
t? No autopsy! Nod your head if you got it.”
Tracy dutifully nodded.
“Okay. That’s the main message: no autopsy. I could write it for you, but I don’t think that’s wise under the circumstances. Tell them if they ignore this warning that we will be back to visit you kids, and it won’t be pretty. You know what I’m saying? It will be bad, not like this time, because this is just a warning. It might not be tomorrow and maybe not next week, but sometime. Now, I want to know you understand the message so far. Nod your head if you do.”
Tracy nodded. Some of the brashness had disappeared from her eyes.
“And the last part of the message is just as simple. Tell your parents to keep the police out of this affair. It’s just between us and your parents. If they go to the police, I’m going to have to visit you again somewhere, someplace. It’s pretty clear. Are we on the same page about all this?”
Tracy nodded again. It was now obvious she was terrified, just like her younger sisters.
“Great,” Renaldo said. Then he reached out with his gloved finger and tweaked one of Tracy’s nipples. “Nice boobs. Tell your parents not to make me come back.”
After a quick visual sweep around the room, Renaldo motioned for Manuel. As quickly as they had come in, they left, picking up the canvas bag on the way and taking off their masks and gloves. They closed the door behind them and followed the same route back to the street. En route to the car, they passed a couple of kids on bikes, but it didn’t bother them. They were just two handymen returning from having done some work. Back in the car, Renaldo looked at his watch. The whole exercise had taken less than twenty minutes, which wasn’t bad for a thousand bucks.
14
BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS
Wednesday, June 7, 2006
3:50 p.m.
Randolph took longer than usual to get up from the defense table, organize his notes, and situate himself behind the podium. Even when ostensibly prepared, he eyed Leona Rattner long enough for her to briefly look away. Randolph could be intimidating with his powerful, paternal aura.