Chapter 9: Trial

THREE DAYS BEFORE my trial was scheduled to start, Mr. Robinson came to see me.

“Christopher, you’ve been charged with rape, it’s misdemeanor, not felony rape, but it carries a three-to-seven-year sentence. It could be more, it probably wouldn’t be less. Judge Thompson is a fair man, but he’s not particularly friendly or amenable to cutting an accused rapist much slack.”

He paused.

“The district attorney assigned the case to Louise Sheffield. She’s tough, but she’s also fair, I think. She’s not looking for a scalp necessarily, but she isn’t going to cut you much slack, either. She’s made an offer. You plead guilty and she’ll ask the judge for a shorter sentence, maybe three years.”

I didn’t know what to say. I stared at him.

“You mean, I’d have to admit I raped Ellie?”

He nodded.

“I didn’t, Mr. Robinson.”

He was silent for a moment. “It’s your decision, Christopher, but this is a fair offer. Our chances of an acquittal turn on the weight the jury gives to the fact that traces of the drug someone gave you were found in your blood as well as in Ellie’s. That’s an important fact, but doesn’t establish your innocence. You could have still done what you’re accused of before you lost consciousness.

“Beyond that the case will turn on whether the jury believes your moral character would not have let you do this. That’s a hard sell to convince them, when your DNA is inside her and others saw you at the time kind of all over each other. Even if there’s no witness who actually saw you penetrate her.”

“What about the beer bottles, Mr. Robinson? Fingerprints? Ours, for sure, but wouldn’t there be fingerprints of someone else?”

“The cops checked them, Christopher. Beyond your prints and Ellie’s prints there were too many smudges to make any sense of it or identify anything.”

Three years. If I was lucky. If Ms. Sheffield kept her side of the bargain. Mr. Robinson seemed to think she would. I didn’t do it. I didn’t. I couldn’t admit to something I didn’t do. It would betray everything Ellie and I meant to each other, everything we’d believed in and felt and loved. It would be telling Ellie I didn’t love her enough to respect her wishes.

A little voice inside me said it would also mean not admitting that something might have happened. There was my earlier incident with Natalie. After all, I was a golden boy. I got what I wanted, I succeeded, even when I hadn’t done that myself.

I couldn’t do it.

“Mr. Robinson, I can’t do it. I can’t admit to something I didn’t do.”

He looked at me. “Very well. Your parents want to talk to you, too. They’re outside.”

The jail folks weren’t the cold ones I would find in prison. They’d cut my parents some slack, mostly because my parents were well and favorably known in this town.

“Christopher, take the offer, will you, please?” Mom was in tears. Dad added his two cents.

“Christopher, we think Mr. Robinson is right. We trust you and believe you but we don’t want to see you spend any more time behind bars than you have to.”

I was in tears at this point myself.

“Mom, Dad, I can’t. I didn’t do it.”

I hugged Mom, then Dad.

“I won’t, I can’t plead guilty to something I didn’t do. Something I’d never do.”

I did my best to dry my tears.

“Maybe someday I can persuade Ellie of that. Maybe.”

I wasn’t any too confident of that. I knew I hadn’t done it. I was fairly certain I knew the likely candidate. Dale was conveniently there, too convenient by far, along with his little toady Jeff. He had motive, he had means between his legs and whatever he’d put in our beer, and he had opportunity.

“Did you see the defendant having sex with Ms. Rodriguez?”

Somehow Dale managed to keep the smirk I knew he wanted to show off his face. He was properly solemn, the asshole.

“He was on top of her and he was moving.”

Mr. Robinson jumped on this when it was his turn to cross-examine.

“It was dark, Mr. O’Brien. How could you see this?”

The smirk escaped.

“I was there.”

“You mean you were watching the defendant and Ms. Rodriguez?”

Dale shrugged. “Yeah, I mean, it was a party. Stuff happened, you know?”

“Did you see the defendant penetrate Ms. Rodriguez with his penis?”

By some miracle I managed to keep my cool, although I was, honest to god, blushing, I know it.

“I saw him humping her. I mean, he was on top of her and he was, like, thrusting and rubbing.”

“But you did not see actual penetration, is that right?”

Dale paused. I wondered if he would lie.