What's up with that thing on your roof? Jack said as he climbed into the passenger seat.
You saw it, huh?
It was like asking if he'd noticed the third eye in the middle of his forehead. Yeah. What is it?
Keep an open mind now, all right? Theo said as he drove them away from the curb. The idea came to me last night. I saw a guy driving down the expressway with a mattress on the roof of his Chevy. And he must think he's Superman or something, cuz he's cruising along at fifty-five miles per hour and he's got one skinny arm out the window trying to keep a queen-sized mattress from flying off. I'm sure you've seen these idiots before.
Uh yeah, Jack said warily.
So I sees this and figure, hey, there's gotta be a better way, right? And that's when it hit me: a mattress spoiler.
A what?
Think about it, man. We got a quarter million dollars coming from Ball-Bustin' Bud in Atlanta. Let's say we take just ten grand and develop a prototype of this thing. Put another twenty toward an infomercial. You can sell meatballs to vegetarians if you got a fucking infomercial. This could be a gold mine.
Theo, what have you been smoking?
Okay. How about five grand?
I'm not putting five cents into mattress spoilers.
Theo groaned, then turned his attention back to traffic. Damn, Swyteck. This is why you'll never be rich.
They rode in silence for several miles, and by the time Theo had cursed out every incompetent driver between the airport and Coral Gables, he seemed to have put the mattress spoiler to bed, so to speak. How'd it go with Henry Talbridge?
Fine, said Jack. Until he showed me the polygraph that Mia failed. That Teresa failed, I should say.
You mean they gave her a lie detector test on the rape?
Jack pulled the report from his briefcase, as if he needed to see it again to believe it. She was asked three key questions. One: Were you raped by Gerard Montalvo?' She answered yes.
And that was a lie?
In the examiner's opinion, her response showed signs of deception.
Whoa, dude. What was the next question?
Did Gerard Montalvo force you to have sex with him against your will?' Again, her answer was yes.
Another lie?
Same interpretation by the examiner. Shows signs of deception.
That's not good, buddy. What was the third question?
This has to do with the scar on the inside of her thigh that I told you about. She was asked: Is Gerard Montalvo responsible for the injury to your leg?' Her response was yes.
What did the examiner have to say about that?
He didn't say she was lying, but he didn't bless it, either. He characterized the result as inconclusive.'
What kind of lame-ass finding is that?
Basically he can't tell if she was lying or telling the truth. It happens more than you'd think in polygraph examinations.
Theo stopped at the red light and started tapping a little drumroll on the steering wheel, as if rhythm of any kind helped his brain to process all this information. Why didn't that prosecutor tell you about the polygraph? What's her name, Charlene?
Charlene Wright. I called her at home late last night and asked her the same thing.
What'd she say?
First off, she seemed very surprised that Henry Talbridge shared the polygraph with me. The conversation didn't go much beyond that, except for one important point. Charlene never stopped believing in Teresa.
How does she explain a failed polygraph?
She thinks that with all the stress, the threats that Teresa was getting from Montalvo and his cronies, it was no surprise that she failed. No one would have passed under those conditions.
What does Talbridge think?
He wants to agree with Charlene, but he did point out that the polygraph is a real sore spot for her. It was the end of her at the DA's office. She lost all credibility with her supervisors because she believed so much in the case.
That's pretty harsh. I mean, it's not a good thing that Mia flunked a polygraph, but those things aren't a hundred percent reliable.
No, but if I had to make a generalization, prosecutors attach more weight to them than defense lawyers do. And you have to remember, Mia took over three days to report the rape to the police. That means she showered, changed clothes, ate, went to the bathroom. Beyond seventy-two hours, a forensic exam isn't going to turn up much in the way of physical evidence. This was a he-said, she-said case, except for the cut on her leg. And the polygraph was inconclusive as to whether she got that from Montalvo.
So, what does that mean in this situation? Was the DA's office still going after Montalvo, or were they gonna drop the whole thing?
That's what I was hoping to find out from Charlene. But she's not talking.
Maybe we can figure it out for ourselves. What's the exact sequence of events here?
The traffic light changed, and Jack tucked the polygraph report back into his briefcase as the car started forward. Talbridge testified on the last day of the preliminary hearing. Right after that, he found out that Montalvo was going to take a polygraph and leak the results to the press, so he and Charlene arranged for Teresa to take one the next morning. She failed, much to their surprise. About two hours later, the judge issued his ruling that there was sufficient evidence to bind the case over for trial.
Obviously the judge didn't know that the alleged victim flunked a polygraph.
It wouldn't be admissible anyway, but you're right. The only people who knew about it were Mia, the examiner, Henry Talbridge, and Charlene Wright.
Theo changed lanes as they neared Jack's office. So the judge made his ruling, and the prosecutor is sitting on a polygraph that says the victim is lying. What does the DA do then? Drop the charges, or ignore the polygraph and go full speed ahead?
The very least any decent prosecutor would do is sit down and have a candid conversation with the accuser. But the fact is, we'll never know how Charlene and her supervisors were going to handle the dilemma. Both Mia and Montalvo went missing less than twenty-four hours after the judge ruled that the case should proceed to trial.
Which makes you wonder: What the hell made both the accused and the accuser give up everything they owned, turn their backs on everybody they knew, and become someone else?
Whether Mia was telling the truth or outright lying, it's conceivable that she would flee out of fear that Montalvo would retaliate against her. It's even more believable if she was lying, since she wouldn't be motivated to stand up to Montalvo's threats in order to see that justice was done.
I'll buy that. The harder question is, why would Montalvo run?
Because he was guilty? Jack suggested.
That's one reason. But that's now debatable.
Because he thought he would be found guilty even though he was innocent?
How many innocent men cut and run after a stupid preliminary hearing?
It was a valid point, one that made Jack think for a moment. Maybe we need to ask a more basic question. As in, guilty of what?
I'm not following you.
Maybe Montalvo wasn't afraid of being found guilty of rape. Maybe his real fear was that he'd be held accountable for Mia's sudden disappearance after the judge ordered the case held over for trial.
Still, you gotta ask: How did he get so afraid that he took off and ran?
The car came to a stop outside Jack's office. He reached for the door handle and said, Theo, my friend. That is exactly what we need to find out.
Chapter
48
Jack got out of the car, and Theo followed him into the office to raid the candy dish. Dani, Jack's temporary secretary, was seated behind the reception desk, but she wasn't her usual cheery self. She was downright glum.
What's wrong? said Jack.
Oh, nothing.
Jack was a man, and he had plenty on his mind - two strikes against him - but even he could tell that it was not nothing. He pretended to sift through the stack of mail on the counter, but he kept a concerned eye on Dani. She was definitely not herself. You want to talk about it?
She shrugged and said, It's my boyfriend. He got accepted to med school at Stanford.
Wow. That's a long way away. So I'm guessing that he called to break things off.
No. He asked me to go with him.
Whoa. That's a big decision. Are you actually considering it?
Do you think I shouldn't?
I think - He stopped himself. I think you should talk to your parents.
You're such a lawyer, she said, smiling. Don't worry. I'm not going. But I would go in a heartbeat if I thought he was the one.
Jack was intrigued, the way she seemed so sure. You would?
Absolutely. Like my grandmother used to say. You can't just grab the next bus that comes along. Love doesn't work that way.
Ah, the old love-means-never-having-to-ask-for-a-transfer theory, said Theo through a mouthful of peppermints.
Dani wrinkled her nose; Love Story was long before her time. Jack just shook his head and started back to his office. Dani would be fine, he knew. He wished he had that same self-assurance, the innate ability to know if it was worth moving across the country to be with that certain someone.
Maybe Dani could tell him how much Mia was worth.
Jack switched on the lights and went to his desk. Theo had completely emptied out the dish of peppermints, and he was now rummaging through the minirefrigerator beside Jack's credenza in search of something to drink. Jack's computer was running, so he quickly checked his e-mails. He scrolled past the ones from recognizable senders. It was the ones from unknown sources that concerned him - the ones that could be from the kidnapper.
A subject line that read Check this out got his attention, but it was for diet pills. A few others made his pulse quicken, but, collectively, they were for fat people with small penises who needed to borrow money fast.
You think Mia lied about the rape? said Theo.
Jack looked up from the computer screen. I don't know what to think at this point.
One other thing about that polygraph exam. I didn't say nothing before, but I guess I don't have to remind you. I flunked one, too. Remember?
Of course I remember.
Sometimes you try too hard to pass, not because you're lying, but because there's so much at stake. I think that can make you flunk.
I know. Thanks.
Jack turned his attention back to his list of unread e-mails, then found one that looked promising. The subject line read Our little secret. He opened the e-mail with a click of the mouse, but the message had no text. A digital photograph filled Jack's display screen. At first, he couldn't figure out what it was. He narrowed his eyes, gaining a little different perspective. And then it hit him.
The photo was an extreme close-up of the scar on Mia's inner thigh.
Oh, shit, said Jack.
What? said Theo.
Jack was staring at the image on the screen, unable to move, barely able to speak. He quickly deduced that the photograph was a teaser of sorts for the attachment to the e-mail.
The kidnapper had another video for him.
Jack drew a breath and said, This can't be good.
Chapter
49
Jack downloaded the video attachment to the e-mail and took it straight to the FBI. Watching it once had been bad enough. Watching it again with Andie Henning was practically unbearable. The idea of seeing it a third time with a trained criminal psychiatrist was nearly enough to push him over the edge.
Jack, you don't have to stay for this if you don't want to, said Andie.
He considered it, but walking out somehow felt like the wrong thing to do, like an act of abandonment. I'll stay, he said.
They each pulled up a chair to the computer station, and Andie adjusted the flat-screen monitor so that all three could see. The opening frame was painfully familiar to Jack by now. The camera never showed Mia's face, never turned away from the scar on the inner thigh. It was impressive not in length but in the sheer density of scar tissue. Naturally, the camera's tight focus exacerbated things, the way nighttime seems to exaggerate every fear and anxiety. Perhaps it seemed even worse to Jack because he knew the softness, the smoothness, the perfection of her unmarred skin. But this one flaw, this hideous scar, seemed to have bubbled up from the skin like lava from the earth.
Andie hit the Play button. The video began to roll, and the audio kicked in.
Show him. His voice sounded thick, as if disguised by a wad of cotton or something in his mouth.
What are you talking about? said Mia.
You know exactly what I'm talking about. Show him, damn it!
There was a short blip in the video, a momentary blackness, as if something had been edited out. It pained Jack to imagine what might have transpired off camera. The image returned to the screen, the same tight shot of the scar on her leg. It was impossible to determine the length of the apparent break in filming, but it had been long enough for Mia's captor to release some of his rage. His voice sounded calmer in the next segment.