‘What do you think happened?’
‘I think they took advantage of that poor girl under the bleachers, knowing they would get away with it. Funny how fate catches up.’
Anya sipped her coffee, enjoying its warmth. Another customer entered and the waitress busied herself wiping the counter.
After the cake, and a second coffee, Anya walked over to the till to pay. ‘Don’t suppose you remember the name of that girl?’
‘Sure do, it was young Patsy Fowler. Still lives with her mother. They look after each other now.’
* * *
Anya rang the doorbell and a woman in her sixties opened the door, slightly stooped. Her hands were distorted from arthritis.
‘Can I help you?’
‘Hello, Mrs Fowler, I was wondering if it was possible to speak with Patsy.’
‘Who’s asking?’
Definitely not a friendly start. ‘My name is Anya. May I come in?’
‘You’re not from round here, are you?’
‘No, New York,’ she tried.
The woman’s expression relaxed. ‘My daughter Lisa works there. Do you know her?’
‘She told me about Patsy,’ Anya lied.
‘You might as well come on in. She’s tidying her room. Patsy, you got a visitor,’ she called and sat on the sofa. The television in the room was loud but was left at that volume.
An overweight figure with a large grin entered the room.
‘Yes, Momma?’
Patsy was wearing high-waisted jeans with a checked shirt neatly tucked in, hair in ponytails. She had the facial features associated with Down syndrome.
‘Did Lisa tell you she’s got the brains of an eight-year-old? Sometimes she forgets to tell people that.’
Anya’s heart sank. Janson, Keller and the Short boy could not have had consensual sex with Patsy. She was mentally disabled and incapable of giving consent. Nor was someone with the mind of a child capable of luring them somewhere to have sex.
‘Hi, Patsy, I’m Anya.’
‘Hello. You wanna see my room?’
Anya smiled. ‘I’d love to.’
This was the girl the three men had raped. She would have been unable to testify against them, but that did not mean they should have got away with it.
If Patsy’s sister, Lisa, had been going out with Short, one of the attackers, and had instigated a fight, it was feasible that she had been hoping he would be hurt.
The bedroom was pink, with images of unicorns and fairies on the walls.
‘You draw really well,’ Anya commented, before meeting every one of a shelf of soft toys by name.
A noticeboard had multiple postcards of New York. ‘My big sister lives there,’ Patsy boasted.
‘Do you have any pictures of her?’
Patsy reached under her pillow. ‘These are special,’ she put her finger to her lips. ‘Secret special.’
The small album held pictures of two little girls, one obviously Patsy.
Anya flipped the pages, admiring the younger sister in every shot. Patsy giggled and covered her mouth with both hands.
Two photos on the last page stood out. Lisa had dark hair, but the face was familiar. Now she was blonde.
Anya was staring at a picture of Annabelle Reichman.
I
mmediately after leaving the Fowler home, Anya found a motel for the night. She phoned Linda Gatby and had to leave a message on her cellphone about Annabelle Reichman and her sister’s assault by Janson, Keller and Short and her suspicion that Annabelle had tampered with her phone and was the mystery woman with Pete Janson.
Returning to the hospital the following evening, she arrived to find Ethan being discharged under strict instructions to avoid any strenuous activity and to rest for three more weeks. The kidney haematoma had not increased in size but could still cause problems. Instead of resting, he insisted on trying to speak to Lance Alldridge before tomorrow’s charity game.
Anya called Linda Gatby from a hospital pay phone and left another message. Anya debated whether to tell Ethan about Annabelle Reichman, but seeing how ill he looked, she decided to hold back for now. He was determined enough to see Alldridge, despite being ordered to rest. Any more stress and he could lose a kidney, or worse. Anya was still trying to work out what Annabelle’s involvement was. And if she was honest with herself, she had a niggling doubt about where Ethan’s true loyalties lay. She was desperate to talk to Linda.
In Anya’s short absence, Clark Garcia had been arrested
for the assault on Ethan. The police had found blood on his shoes and trousers when they’d gone to interview him. He had requested immunity in exchange for testifying against the other four involved in the attack on Kirsten Byrne. He claimed someone had rung him anonymously to tell him where Ethan was throughout the evening.
Ethan said the police planned to arrest Alldridge and McKenzie after the game. After that, there would be no chance to speak with Alldridge in private.
Ethan refused to allow Anya to confront Alldridge alone, despite the fact he was supposed to be resting. They decided that in the morning, Anya would pretend to have surveillance photos of Alldridge in her bag, in case he needed convincing.
Ethan arrived at the Hyde Hotel in a limousine to collect Anya. Together they headed for Lance’s friend’s home.
The auburn-haired woman answered the door to her apartment wearing a silk gown, her eyes bloodshot and with dry tear-streaks down her cheeks. She looked up and saw Ethan’s bruised face. ‘What —?’
‘It’s vital we see Lance,’ he urged, ‘before the game.’
‘This isn’t a good time.’
Anya stepped forward. ‘We know he didn’t rape Kirsten.’
The woman’s expression altered. Her puffy eyes widened. ‘Thank God.’ She looked around outside before ushering them in. ‘I can’t talk sense into him. He’s going to be arrested in a few hours because he won’t tell them —’
‘We know,’ Ethan said. ‘We want to stop him from making a terrible mistake.’ Ethan looked pale and weak, and had to be in a fair amount of pain – not that he showed it.
She grabbed his good hand, as if thanking him, and led them to a room off the corridor. From the doorway they could see a music stand and violin lying on its case.
‘I can’t get through to him. It’s like he’s given up.’
Anya touched her shoulder. ‘Please understand, we need to speak with him privately. If you don’t hear what we say, you can’t be subpoenaed to repeat it.’
The woman nodded and clutched her robe at the chest. ‘Please just help him. He’s a good man and could never have done this. Believe me. He’s the type of man a woman knows she’s safe with. I love him like he’s my brother. I know he’s innocent.’
They waited until she had disappeared. Inside the room, Alldridge sat at an upright piano, tapping the same note. He turned when he saw them but barely reacted. He was already dressed in a suit and tie, almost as though in preparation for when the police came to arrest him later in the day.
Anya reached for the envelope in her bag and Ethan wasted no time.
‘You didn’t rape Kirsten, did you?’
He ignored them.
Ethan stood firm. ‘Listen to me, Lance. You don’t have to be charged with anything. Four men assaulted her, and we know who they are. You’re not one of them. I think you led them to believe you raped her after they’d finished and left the room. Tell me I’m wrong.’
The tapping on the key stopped. The piano stool grated on the wooden floor as he stood up. ‘Get out. Or I’ll throw you out. Both of you.’
Ethan cautiously stepped between the large man and Anya.
‘You’ve known me a long time,’ he said. ‘I’m here to help you, even if you’re not smart enough to know it. I saw you at the Vlada club. It wasn’t your first time either. We have photos that prove it was you.’ He gestured towards the envelope in Anya’s hand.
The enormous shoulders slumped and Lance sank back onto the stool.
‘How much do you want?’
Anya put the empty envelope back in her bag. There were no photos, of course, but Alldridge wasn’t to know that.
A clock ticked on the wall as if counting the time left. Ethan took a breath.
‘We don’t want your money, you idiot. We want to stop you making the biggest mistake of your life.’
The large man looked up, confused. Despite his size, his brown eyes had the vulnerability of a child about to be punished.
Ethan pulled across a wooden chair and sat facing him. ‘We don’t want you to ruin your life by going to prison for something you didn’t do.’
He closed the lid on the piano. ‘You don’t get it,’ he said. ‘Either of you.’
Anya tried. ‘It makes no sense to confess to a crime you didn’t commit and face a jail sentence just to protect team mates. These men are not even your friends.’
Alldridge buried his face in his hands. ‘You don’t understand. No one does. Catcher, who the hell do you think beat on you?’
Ethan held his ribs and coughed. ‘I know it was Garcia.’
‘And word’s out you were near a gay bar. You saw what the papers said about that. Made out you were some sicko.’
Alldridge turned the stool towards the window and stared out. His tone was even and controlled. ‘Players don’t just dislike gays, they beat the shit out of them. And McKenzie even got away with it by saying this one guy came on to him. Man, players call us faggots and boast how they’d have no problem being violent to any man who propositioned them. So how do you think the locker room will be? Seriously. Do you think I’ll ever play again if I come out and admit the truth? I’ll have more chance of being killed on the field than anyone else out there. These guys would rather have drug dealers, rapists and wife beaters in their team than someone like me.’
‘Your career will be over if you go to prison,’ Anya argued. ‘You’ll be labelled a sex offender for the rest of your life.’
He turned to look at her. ‘And the public will forget about it, just like they forget about everything else guys like Janson and McKenzie have done. Prison time didn’t stop Mike Tyson making a comeback. And Hollywood turns out to support Roman Polanski after he admits to having sex with a thirteen-year-old girl.
‘The public has a short memory for everything but someone being gay. Celebrities can bash their wives and girlfriends and what happens to their careers? Nothing. But what happened to Rupert Everett when he came out? That was it for him as far as lead roles were concerned. What’s the cruellest rumour about a successful man? Being unfaithful, sleeping with prostitutes, bashing women? No, accusing him of being gay.’
Anya still could not believe that a man would choose to go to prison for a crime he did not commit rather than admit who he really was. But what he said about the public perception of celebrities was undeniable. Still, he did not help Kirsten the night of her attack. He could have called the police and made a stand against his violent colleagues. He chose not to.
‘You heard what they said about those movies you showed us. No normal man would ever want to have anal sex, so that had to be rape.’
Anya’s frustration built. ‘And yet these men are the first to anally rape women. Lance, this is so wrong. They have a warped view of men, women and sex. They don’t represent the majority of people.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong. They are the average people. All you have to do is look at the fans.’
Anya refused to accept that. ‘If you expose McKenzie for what he is, you would be gaining the respect of a huge movement opposed to violence against women. You could become a spokesperson, a role model, and you would be doing the right thing.’
‘Maybe in your world, but not this one. Women fans are the first to blame the victim. Look at the way Kirsten Byrne is being treated. Women are behind a lot of it, so don’t tell me I’d be a hero to them.’
Ethan held the hair out of his eyes. ‘It doesn’t take away your skill. Everyone knows you’re one of the best ambassadors for the game. No one can deny that.’
‘Maybe. But what if I have a bad day? What’s the crowd going to say? If I get injured and don’t get up, I’m limp-wristed
and a girl. I’ll be the number one target for every opposition player for behind-the-play attacks. And I’m black. How many black gays can you name?’
‘I get it. Homophobia is rampant, but it’s wrong. Things are starting to change. Hiding can’t be the answer.’
Alldridge shook his head. ‘It’s the only answer. All I need to do is show remorse, say I’ve learnt the error of my ways and all will be forgiven. You can’t say you’ve realised being gay was a mistake and be forgiven. Once you’re tainted, that’s it. Do you think I like living like this? I hate the deception and lies, but that’s just the way it is.
‘I have to do what is right for me and my family. I can’t take back what happened to that girl, but I can try in my own way to make it up to her.’
‘But you’re not responsible.’
‘It doesn’t feel that way.’ He thumped his chest, with tears in his eyes. ‘I knew what they were doing was wrong and I didn’t stop it. It made me sick to see them hurting her like that, and she isn’t the first.’
He put one hand on the window and lowered his forehead to the glass. ‘I got scared for her and for me. The mood turned so fast in that room. Four against one if I tried to stop them. I figured I’d stop any more than that from coming in. That way we both might make it out in one piece.’
‘I get you’re feeling guilty, I get that.’ Ethan tried to move between him and the window. ‘But you don’t have to take the blame for raping her.’
Alldridge checked his watch. ‘I’ve got to go. My lawyer says I’ll be arrested after the game. I can’t be late or they’ll think I’ve absconded.’
Anya had a sinking feeling. None of this was right. McKenzie probably would get away with doing minimal time and then resume his career – if his lawyers didn’t manage to get him off. Chances were a jury would acquit him even with damaging evidence. As much as it galled her to admit it, Alldridge was absolutely right.
His friend knocked on the door. She was dressed in jeans, a teal-coloured blouse and carried a jacket.
‘The car’s outside. It’s time to go.’
‘How long have you known him?’ Anya asked her.
‘He’s been my best friend since college. My boyfriend doesn’t mind us hanging out together when we’re both in New York.’