A QUESTION OF RAPE

By Charles Parsons

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Judd Rafferty was one of my early criminal clients. He retained me when he was charged with the rape of a flirtatious woman he met at a bar near his apartment. The penalty for rape in our jurisdiction was up to twenty years in prison. In her in-court testimony, the putative victim agreed that as the tavern was closing on that weekday evening, Judd invited her to his apartment. Lola accepted. With a freckled face and unruly auburn hair, she was fetching in her red bodycon miniskirt. She worked as a radiology technician at a nearby hospital. Still, her immature jargon betrayed a lack of seasoning in the sexual marketplace. Judd, a tanned six-footer with a husky voice, was a promising stock trader at a local brokerage firm.

Once inside Judd’s apartment, the couple soon cuddled on his sofa. Eventually, Lola became offended by Judd’s scornful gaze at a heart-shaped tattoo above her right breast.

“It’s my body and I can decorate it any way I want to.”

“But a breast tattoo is such a turn off.”

“Don’t be so rude!”

He leaned back from her. “Do you have other tattoos on you?”

“Sure. But why should I show them to you?”

Judd poured her another drink and promised to abandon being judgmental. Soon they were kissing again on the sofa. Later that evening, before they collapsed drunkenly into Judd’s bed, he discovered she had a calligraphy-like swirling tattoo etched along the belt line of her back. He looked away, refusing to allow the blue dye etching to distract him from his goal.

As the early morning sunlight peeked through the curtains of Judd’s bedroom, Lola awakened to discover him, resting on an elbow, frowning at the heart seared on her breast.

“You just can’t shake your disgust, can you?”

“Come on Lola, don’t ruin this. We’re great for each other.”

He reached to fondle her breast, but she pushed his hand away.

“No fucking way,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re dissing me.”

As Judd reached again for her, Lola wiggled gently in his grasp. He interpreted her gesture as mere faux denial. He continued toward her, believing that she was too easily allowing herself to be subdued. He pressed her back to the mattress and nimbly moved between her thighs.

In his ear, she muttered, “You’d better get all you can, because you aren’t ever going to get anymore.” After he climaxed, they got out of bed and, one after the other, showered. Lola set off for work in the miniskirt she’d worn the night before. She refused his offer of breakfast.

*

Helen Cohen had been a prosecutor in the District Attorney’s office for two years. She was a rising star in the agency who’d earned her reputation as a champion for women’s rights. Helen’s friend Joan was a radiologist at the hospital where Lola worked. Over lunch, Joan described to Helen how her capable technician had gone on a date that had morphed into non-consensual sex the following morning.

“She slept with the SOB even after he scorned her tattoos. Next morning, he forced her to have sex. No girl deserves such mistreatment. That’s rape, pure and simple.”

Helen leaned forward. “Would your technician be willing to talk with me?”

*

Seated across from me at my desk, Judd was trembling helplessly. “I earn a good paycheck with my firm as a certified financial planner. But the CFA board will revoke my license if I’m convicted of a felony. That woman Cohen, the DA who brought this rape case, is out to ruin me.”

He seemed more concerned about his license than potential imprisonment. I leaned toward him over my desk. “Ms. Cohen has overcharged you in her indictment. Instead of alleging the lesser offense of intentional infliction of emotional distress, she decided to go whole hog and charge you with rape. She's wants jail time.”

Judd blinked rapidly. “I guess I’m screwed.”

“Judd, you gotta trust the jury system,” I said. “They'll should conclude that Cohen’s allegation is overkill.”

His head drooped as I uttered those words.

*         

The jury took less than two hours to acquit Judd. His teeth gleamed as he pumped my hand outside the courtroom. "I’m convinced it was that cross-examination question you presented to Lola that won it for us.”

“I took a chance with that one. In law school, we're taught never to pose a question if you don’t know what answer you’ll get.”

“So, when you asked her if she had been traumatized by that morning’s sex, you didn’t know what she’d say?”

“I never expected her to testify she was bored and just wanted it over with.”

I glanced at him. “Anyway, Judd, you won. But now you’ve got one more thing to do.”

“What’s that?”

“In a few years, you’re bound to recall this incident. You’ll sense instinctively you were wrong for disrespecting Lola. You’ve gotta take steps now to show you’re a decent guy with feelings, not a scoundrel. You must write her an apology."

He stared at me silently for nearly a minute, then nodded.