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Chloe was, again, the Commonwealth’s first witness. Cooke had her describe where she went to school and the layout of the house, but didn’t take a chance on being surprised by the karate and swimming classes again. So early on, she had Chloe say Bill had taken her. That was to be expected, but Bea knew the child had been unscrupulously prepared when Cooke asked, “Can you tell the jurors during that time if your mom or dad was working?”
“Yes, both my parents were working.” Denise was working only every other Sunday. Cooke was leaving lots of time for Bill to be alone with Bill in the house. Bea thought, The more time to rape you, my child. Damn Cooke. How dare she? She knows the truth.
Cooke asked, “How about when you were at home with your dad, were there times you were alone with him?”
“Yes.”
“And can you recall whereabouts in the house that you would be alone with your dad?
“In the living room and in his bedroom.” This is new. What’s she going to have happen in the living room?
“And where would your mom be when you were alone with him in the house?” Here it comes, here it comes. Bea wanted to scream.
“Either at work or—Yeah, at work.”
Cooke, you unethical bitch.
The bedroom scene, as at the first trial, began with Bill letting Chloe jump on the bed. “And he’d let me jump on the bed.”
Would a child who knew she was about to be raped want permission to jump on the bed?
“Now, can you tell the jurors, did anything else ever occur with your dad in that bedroom beside the tickling you just told us about?”
“He would sometimes jump on the bed with me and then knock me down and take off my clothes and stick his penis in my vagina.” Chloe was cold, detached, showing no emotion whatsoever, looking straight ahead at her mother, who was strategically seated in the rear of the courtroom on a line behind Bill and Kate.
“Do you recall what types of clothes you were wearing when he took off your clothes?”
“No.”
“When he would do that, can you tell the jurors what you felt at that point.”
“Scared.”
Peter, Peter, if you were only here. No pain, Peter. No pain.
“Can you tell the jurors what you were feeling or what you were thinking at that point?
“I was confused and scared.”
If it happened more than once, then why was she confused? She would have known what was about to happen.
No, she didn’t say anything to her dad and he said nothing to her. And mom was again downstairs in the living room either taking a nap or reading when her dad pushed her down on the bed.
“Aside from what you just described, did anything else ever occur in the bedroom when you were alone with your dad?”
Chloe didn’t respond.
“Do you recall where he would touch you when he would be on top of you?”
“He’d be holding my arms down.”
“Do you know approximately how long that would go on for?”
“I don’t remember.” And she didn’t remember when or how often it happened, just that it happened more than once.
“Did anything else happen in the bedroom between your dad and yourself that you can recall?”
“No, just the tickling and everything.”
“Did he ever touch you in any other way?”
“Well, when he tickled me, he would sometimes put his hands down my underwear.”
“And when he would put his hands down your underwear, can you describe where his hands would go?”
“On the surface of my vagina.”
“And what part of his body would be touching the surface of your vagina?”
“His fingers.”
No, she never said anything to him at that time, nor did he say anything to her. Nor did he touch her in any other way, nor did she touch him in any other way.
“When your dad was on top of you and your clothes were off, can you tell the jurors, what about his clothes?
“They’d be off, too.”
“When he would take his clothes off, did you see his body?”
“No, my eyes were closed.”
“And when would you close your eyes?”
“When he was on top of me.”
“Now, when you were upstairs in the bedroom, can you tell the jurors whether or not you ever saw any parts of your dad’s body?”
“No.”
“Did your dad ever touch you in your mouth?” That was a leading question and was improper.
Is Chloe unwilling to testify? Is that why Cooke reverted to leading her? Also, the child had already said he didn’t touch her anywhere else. Blakeley didn’t object. He, like Bea, didn’t want the jury to think he was interfering with the child’s story.
“Yes.”
“Can you describe for the jurors when he would touch your mouth?”
“He would put his penis in my mouth.” And that happened in the bedroom more than once.
“Do you recall or can you describe to the jurors what that was like?”
“It didn’t taste good.”
“Do you know where your mom was during those times when he would put his penis in your mouth?”
“Downstairs on the couch.”
No, she never said anything to him at that time, nor did he say anything to her. And yes, it happened more than once on separate days.
“Do you recall or do you know how old you were the first time that it happened, Chloe?”
“Three.”
“Now would you describe when you would go swimming with your dad or to karate, how would you describe your relationship with your dad then?”
“I was close to him then.”
“Now at some point, did your dad talk to you about talking about what was going on in the bedroom?”
Improper, leading question.
“Yes.” But she didn’t recall when or the number of times he talked with her about what was going on in the bedroom.
“Can you tell the jurors what your dad told you with regards to what was going on in the bedroom?”
“He said if I ever told anyone, he would kill my mother.”
“And how did you feel at that point, Chloe?”
“Very, very scared.”
Rules and Raping
Blakeley started slowly with questions about karate and about the gi, the side-tied karate shirt, and her little belt. Then he dared what Bea had not.
“Do you remember your father hitting you in the head with a baseball bat?”
“No.”
“No? Do you remember telling the lady— Do you remember talking to the people from the social work department about this case, you know, a couple of times?”
“Yes.”
“And do you remember or did you ever say to the woman, any one of the people you spoke to, that your dad hit you with a wooden baseball bat on your head and on your bottom, and that he left marks?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Do you remember saying he would hit you and punch you and hit you on the face with his hands and that he left marks on you all over?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember your father coming into your bed with you? Do you remember saying that to the person?”
“Yes.”
“And do you remember... your memory, do you recall saying you were in your diapers?”
“Yes.”
“You remember your father coming into bed with you when you were in your diapers.”
“I don’t remember that, no.”
Would the jury be able to distinguish between Chloe remembering whether something happened and Chloe remembering whether she had told someone? Blakeley had picked out the most outlandish events to ask Chloe about. Blakeley shouldn’t need Toffett now, Bea thought.
She remembered Carol Tracy. Probably only because she’d been reminded about her. It seemed unlikely she’d remember a 30- or 40-minute visit with Tracy that had occurred eight years earlier.
“And do you remember, did your mother tell you why you were going there?”
“No.”
“Did you know why you were going there?”
“Yes.”
“And why were you going there?”
“Because I was going there to tell about my father raping me.” Bingo, Blakeley, you did it. The inconsistency was beautiful.
“Raping you? And when you went into Ms. Tracy, did she give you some, like, doll things to play with, do you remember?”
“I don’t remember.”
She remembered the no-touch rule, but she remembered they could hug each other.
“And what was the no-whispering rule?”
“He couldn’t whisper to me and I couldn’t whisper to him.”
“Okay, and who would make those rules, do you know?”
“I don’t remember.” Neither did she remember getting into trouble with her mother because she hugged her father.
Then Blakeley mined the same treasure that Bea did. He asked her about hearing stories from other kids about how they were abused.
“Did your mother take you to a place where they had classes or a group of people talking about things like this?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember talking to other kids who had things happen to them like this?”
“Yes.”
“And did they tell you things that happened to them.”
“Yes.”
“Did you also go to, do you remember, like a camp with other kids that were from... that were abused by their fathers?”
“No, I don’t remember.”
“You would hear stories from other kids about how they were abused or raped, though, by their fathers, right?”
“Yes.”
Meet My Beautiful Daughter
Bea paced the corridor. Having finally heard Chloe as a young teenager, Bea was tempted to leave. I’ll regurge if I have to listen to Denise again, but maybe I should go in just to see what Blakeley will do differently. To do that, she’d have to listen to Cooke, too.
“I moved into the third bedroom,” Denise was saying flatly as Bea walked in and sat on a bench in the rear of the room. Denise had just finished telling the jury about the beginning of her marriage to Bill.
In very short time, Bea could tell that Cooke was skipping the rape. That’s strange. She knows Blakeley has permission to ask about it, and will. How come she didn’t ask about it? The first rule of thumb for a litigator is to let a jury know the bad stuff before your opponent does. In that way, you can prick the balloons before they make a gala display.
When Cooke directed Denise’s attention to the day of the talking hands, Denise iterated as she had three times before that it was the “hands” which told her the secret. But Cooke didn’t bother to have Denise testify that Chloe, the human being, spoke while she was playing puppets. If Blakeley’s smart, he’ll leave it alone. I wish I had.
Denise was in the middle of the Carol Tracy story, which was being told exactly as it had been before, when Cooke and Denise added something new.
“And how did you introduce her?”
“This is my beautiful daughter, Chloe, and this is my friend, Carol.
Only one other item differed for evidentiary reasons: because Bea had argued it was improper to talk about what Chloe did with the anatomical dolls and because Chloe hadn’t remembered playing with them, Cooke had Denise throw in a piece of information that hadn’t come out before. That was something that allegedly occurred when Chloe came out of Tracy’s office.
“Chloe went and got the dolls and showed them to me,” Denise said.
Tracy was a corroborative witness who should add nothing new substantively; Denise was not, legally. Tracy shouldn’t have added facts to which Chloe hadn’t testified, but she had. Also the way a child played with the dolls was proof of nothing. Denise, as an ordinary witness, was not confined by the restriction imposed on a fresh-complaint witness. Bea thought everyone but litigators would be bored by any discussion of the distinction, until they knew they could go to prison if the two evidentiary situations weren’t distinguished.
“And what did she do with the dolls when she showed them to you?”
“She showed me the male doll had a penis and the female doll didn’t have any underwear on.” Yes,
Denise and Bill had taught Chloe to call a penis a penis and a vagina a vagina.
Bea was bothered. Had Cooke and Denise set up a time bomb about the rape of ‘83 to blow up during Blakeley’s cross-examination?
The next episode of this story will post tomorrow, Monday - September 29th
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