Wrongfully Accused

Author's Note: To those readers that may work in the legal profession, please go easy on me. I've learned all I know from watching court shows on television, and I'm sure it shows.

*

Brian was sipping coffee and taking in the vista of the Long Island Sound from the oversized sun room at the rear of his mansion in Old Field. The room was what he had built the entire house around, and he had cleared out trees and brush in order to afford himself an unobstructed view of the water. There were few things in life that made him as happy as the sight of the water and the ever present smell of the salt air. His reverie was broken by the sound of the ringing doorbell. With slight irritation, he turned and walked to the main entrance hall of the house. He became a bit alarmed when he peered out the sliver of window beside the door and saw two uniformed police officers on the landing. Unlocking and opening the door, Brian addressed the officers standing before him.

"Can I help you?"

"Are you Mr. Brian Flood?" asked the taller of the two officers.

Brian noted that both men were watching him carefully and each held a hand close to his weapon. Feeling a bit unnerved, he looked back and forth at each of them.

"Yes, I am. What is this about?"

The officer closest to the door took a step forward, positioning himself in the doorway and ensuring that Brian would be unable to close the door. "We have a warrant for your arrest," he said. "Another team is on their way here with a warrant to search the premises."

Taking a step back, Brian looked at the officers, shock apparent on his face. "A warrant for my arrest? For what?"

Ignoring the question, the lead officer asked one of his own. "Do you have any weapons in your possession or on your person right now, Mr. Flood?"

"What? No, of course not," responded Brian.

"Please turn around and put your hands against the wall, sir."

"I...I don't understand," stammered Brian.

"Sir, please do as I've instructed."

Brian stared at him for a moment, then let out an exasperated sigh and turned around, putting his hands on the wall as he had seen done on hundreds of cop shows. The officer moved in behind him, kicking his feet further apart and then patting him down in search of a weapon. Finding nothing, the officer reached up, grabbing Brian's right wrist and pulling it behind his back. Brian could hear the telltale sounds of a pair of handcuffs being opened, then felt the officer attach one half to the wrist behind him. A moment later, his left arm was pulled back, and the shackle was placed around his other wrist.

The officer turned Brian around to face him. He pulled a card from his pocket and read Brian his rights. When he had finished, he returned the card to his pocket.

"Do you understand your rights that I have just described to you?" he asked.

"Yes, yes. But what is this about? I haven't DONE anything," responded Brian.

"Do you know a woman named Nancy Gaines?" inquired the officer.

"Nancy? Yes I know her. Is she okay? Did something happen to her?"

"Evidently, you happened to her, Mr. Flood. She has accused you of unlawful detention and rape."

Brian felt as if he had been hit in the gut with a battering ram. Dropping into a chair behind him, he looked up at the two officers. "I...I don't understand this at all. She said that? She said I raped her?"

"Did you have sex with Ms. Gaines?" asked the second officer.

Feeling as if he wanted to vomit, Brian hung his head down and sighed. "I think I'd better get an attorney before I say anything else," he said to the officers.

**********

The police cruiser pulled up to the door of the sixth precinct house in Selden. The driver got out of the car and opened the rear door, guiding Brian out of the vehicle and escorting him into the building. Amid the chaos of the station house, Brian was fingerprinted, booked, and placed alone in an interrogation room. A short time later, the Suffolk County Police Chief and the Precinct Station Commander entered the room and sat across the table from Brian.

"What the hell happened, Brian?" asked Jim Burke, the police chief.

"I wish I knew. I think I'm a little in shock here."

"These are serious charges, Brian, and this one is going to be a political hot potato. I spoke with Steve Bellone before I arrived here. We're going to have to make sure we follow protocol to the letter. We can't have the appearance of any impropriety or favoritism in this case. Reporters will be all over the fact that you are friends with both the Suffolk County Executive and Chief of Police. Do you understand?" Jim asked.

"I do, Jim. Jesus. I didn't support the two of you with an eventuality like this in mind. I could never have considered such a thing."

"What the fuck happened, Brian?"

"You're a cop, Jim. I can't have this discussion as if we were just friends. Even if you believed me, you'd still have to go through each step of the investigation and take appropriate action. Like you said, the press will be watching."

"Does that mean there is something to these charges?" Jim queried.

"All I will tell you is that I didn't do what Nancy has accused me of, and that the truth is not what it may appear to be as you gather evidence. Of course, you hear that from every criminal you meet, don't you?"

"So what is the truth then, Brian?"

"We'll get to that after my attorney arrives, Jim. As you said, you're in a bad spot on this. You can't just take my word, and anything I say may be twisted by an intelligent prosecutor to sound like something else. I'd rather wait for my attorney before we talk any longer."

"I'm trying to help you, Brian."

"We've been friends for a long time, Jim. I understand that I can't tap into that friendship and ask you to help me now. But I also ask that you don't tap into it to do your job as a police officer. Your hands are tied, so the only thing that can happen if we continue to talk is that our conversation can hurt me. Please."

"Okay," replied Jim as he rose from his seat. "We're going to try to get you arraigned this morning. Just hang tight, Brian. If nothing else, at least we can try to speed things along for you."

"I appreciate it, Jim."

The station commander rose from his seat and nodded at Brian, then left the room with Jim. Brian sat in silence, feeling sick to his stomach. He'd never been in real trouble before, but he knew that lucky streak had ended.

**********

Alex Stanton had spent the previous hour listening to his client describe what had gone on with Nancy Gaines. He had taken extensive notes during the retelling, peppering Brian with questions along the way. Staring down at the sheets of paper before him, Alex sighed and looked up at Brian.

"The police have found a number of items of interest at your home, several lengths of rope among them. They are sure to run them for DNA."

"Yeah. And they'll come back as a match for Nancy."

"They have the rape kit. They'll want a sample of your DNA too. They'll get it one way or another. We won't fight them on that."

"Okay. This is fucking ridiculous, Alex. How the fuck can she just lie like this and get away with it?"

"Obviously, every bit of evidence in this case is going to make sense for both the story Nancy is telling and the one you are telling. I'm afraid that in the end, this will come down to who a jury believes based upon their testimony. Frankly, I'm a little worried. Your sexual proclivities may not play well with the typical middle class suburban homeowner that will likely be on a jury."

"I've done this with quite a few women. Couldn't they testify on my behalf?"

"First of all, I'm guessing some of these women wouldn't exactly want their names dragged into all of this. Secondly, painting a picture of you as a depraved sex addict isn't going to help your case with these people. Lastly, even if they buy all of that, it will be very easy for the prosecutor to imply that Nancy wasn't interested in such play, and you forced her anyway."

"So what the hell can we do?"

"You say that you and Nancy engaged in these acts on several occasions?"

"Yes. This past time was the fifth time we got together."

"Can you prove that? Do you have security video showing she came to your home in the past? Anything?"

"No. I have cameras, but no video. I mean, we talked on the phone. Maybe that could help?"

"Maybe. I think we'll have to do some background work on Ms. Gaines. We need to poke around her personal life a little. If we can find other men that she engaged in such acts with, that will help your case."

"Jesus Christ, Alex. You never realize how tenuous our freedom is until something like this happens. To think that I could go to fucking jail for something I didn't do. It's insane."

"That it is my friend, and it does happen. Let's get through this arraignment and get you out of here so we can move on to the next steps we need to take."

"Okay. Thanks, Alex. I appreciate your help."

"No problem, Brian. You can thank me by paying my bill promptly. And staying the hell away from my daughter," he said with a chuckle.

**********

Brian and Alex sat on one side of a conference room table across from Sarah Reese, the Assistant District Attorney. She was organizing a small stack of papers on the table before her in preparation for her interrogation of Brian. Sarah was tall and visually stunning, with long auburn hair and light hazel eyes that had the potential to mesmerize a person. She had feminine curves, but was quite obviously an athlete as well. Unable to contain himself, Brian watched her as she prepared, and couldn't help but like what he saw.

"What kind of training do you do?" he asked her.

"Excuse me?" replied Sarah, looking up at him.

"You know. Working out. Training. You're obviously quite athletic. I'm just curious."

Sarah looked over at Alex, who was frowning at his client's apparent lack of judgment.

"I'd say you have quite a bit more to be concerned about than what kind of exercise I do, Mr. Flood. We are about to discuss a heinous crime, and you're sitting here asking me a personal question? Seriously?"

"Is that what we're doing here, Ms. Reese? I thought we were here to get at the truth. You seem to have already decided what the truth is, without so much as speaking to me."

"Of course I want to get at the truth, Mr. Flood. You do understand that there is a significant amount of evidence against you, don't you?"

"You do realize that the evidence you have can support a number of different scenarios, don't you?"

"Well, why don't you tell me your side of the story then, Mr. Flood?"

Alex put a hand on Brian's wrist. "I really think this is a mistake, Brian. There will be enough reasonable doubt in this case for a jury to come back with an acquittal. This discussion can only hurt you."

Brian turned to his attorney. "You've already made your legal opinion clear on this point, Alex. Frankly, I don't want an acquittal. I want my name cleared and all charges dropped. You realize that I've done nothing wrong, and my reputation has been irreparably damaged, don't you? It was never my intent for my sexual proclivities, as you call them, to be public knowledge. Now that will be unavoidable. At a minimum, I want to ensure that there are no doubts about my innocence."

"I understand that Brian. But this..."

"This is providing the District Attorney's office with the full story before we go to trial. I want them, and Ms. Reese here in particular, to have the opportunity to reconsider and drop these false charges before we have a trial."

"I am representing you Brian, and I will do as you wish, but I am stating for the record that I think this is a mistake."

Ms. Reese watched the interchange as if watching a tennis match. "How long did the two of you rehearse that little scene for me?" she asked. "Very well done, I must say."

"Were you born a skeptic, or was this learned behavior?" Brian asked her with a distasteful smirk.

"You develop a healthy skepticism, Mr. Flood, dealing with felons who all insist they are the victims. Shall we begin now, or do you have another speech or inappropriate comment you'd like to make first?"

"There are always inappropriate comments I'd like to make, Ms. Reese. But my attorney here advises me against such things."

"Jesus, Brian. Cut the crap, okay?" snapped Alex. "This isn't a fucking joke."

"Thank you, counselor," said Sarah. "Let's get started. How did you meet Ms. Gaines?"

"I met her at an art show a few months ago. There were several works that we both had a great deal of interest in. That interest sparked a conversation between us."

"About?"

"The show. The pieces we liked."

"Tell me about them, Mr. Flood."

"It was a showcase of erotic art. These particular works depicted women in rather submissive positions."

"Do you enjoy victimizing women, Mr. Flood?"

"Such formality, Sarah. Why don't you call me Brian? As the old joke goes, my father is named Mr. Flood."

"Do you enjoy victimizing women, Brian?" Sarah repeated.

"No Sarah, I do not. I have no desire to do to a woman that which she doesn't want done."

"So taking advantage of a woman in a submissive position is not victimizing her?" Sarah asked.

"No, it isn't. No more than she is taking advantage of me if I'm in a dominant position, Sarah. A woman that intentionally puts herself in a submissive position of her own accord is offering an invitation."

"Are you saying that's what Ms. Gaines did? Offer you an invitation?"

"Yes I am, and not only the first time we were together. She did it every time."

"You were with Ms. Gaines more than once?" queried Sarah with a puzzled look on her face. "She didn't mention that."

"Five times, actually. The first time was the evening we met. She spent the night at my home."

"Okay, Brian. Let's assume for a moment this is true. What happened?"

"We had a cocktail or two, and I showed her around the house. At some point, she excused herself to go to the bathroom. I waited for her to return, and she didn't. Wondering what she was up to, I went looking for her."

"Did you find her, Brian?"

"Yes. I found her on my bed, naked except for a pair of heels and the handcuffs she had shackled herself to my headboard with."

Sarah was watching Brian as he spoke, and now she sat quietly just staring at him. Brian stared back.

"Your eyes are a bit unnerving, Sarah. Has anyone ever told you that?" asked Brian. "They really are quite beautiful."

Alex kicked Brian under the table, and Sarah broke eye contact, shifting her glance down to the papers before her.

"Mr. Flood. Please, can you continue?"

"You may choose to disagree, but I took such an action by Nancy to be an invitation, and I chose to accept said invitation."

"Meaning you had sex with her?"

"I most certainly did, Sarah. We spent most of the night engaging in one act or another. Nancy left my home shortly after dawn, and I slept in."

"Did anyone see you together?"

"If they did, I'm not aware of it. Nancy is married to a man thirty years her senior, Sarah. A wealthy man. Do you understand the situation?"

Sarah nodded. "Go on, Brian."

"She is discreet. To the best of my knowledge, not even her closest friends know about her indiscretions. She's a closed book, which isn't helping my case any."

"You say you met with her on several occasions?"

"Yes. Five times in all."

"Did you engage in sexual activity each time, Brian?"

"That was kind of the point, Sarah. Each time things got a bit more intense than the previous time."

"How do you mean?" asked Sarah.

"Nancy liked to play rough. Actually, she liked me to play rough. She wasn't satisfied just fucking. It had to be an event. And she liked to be subdued and helpless."

"Helpless? Like a victim would be helpless, Brian?"

"I think we've covered that, Sarah."

"Do you think women actually enjoy being raped, Brian? Is that what you think?"

"I noticed you aren't wearing any rings, Sarah. You must be divorced, huh?"

"What?" Sarah snapped.

"Ah. Sensitive about it. Okay. I'm just assuming you aren't a lesbian. I'm guessing you're about thirty years old, and a woman as beautiful as you would have had scores of potential suitors throughout high school, college, and career. It stands to reason you would probably have gotten married, or at least be engaged. But here you sit with no ring on your finger. What happened, Sarah? The old once a week missionary position fuck grew a little boring for you both?"

"Can we stay on topic, Mr. Flood?" said an exasperated Sarah, trying to take control of the conversation.

"I am staying on topic, Sarah. You know damned well from your work that there is a wide range of sexuality out there. Many people push limits. Some are into pain. Some humiliation. You think of something, and I guarantee someone is into it. Don't base your thoughts on your own, possibly limited, range of sexual experiences."

"You like to inflict pain, Brian?"

"No. I like to provide pleasure, Sarah."

Sarah paused, staring Brian down. "We have evidence, Brian. Rope marks on Ms. Gaines' ankles and wrists. Bruises and bite marks on her breasts, neck and nipples. Vaginal trauma. Rope, clamps and handcuffs found in your home. Positive DNA matches on the rope, and from the rape kit we did."

"All of which are consistent with everything I've just told you."

"Vaginal trauma? Really? That's consistent with consensual sex?" Sarah asked. "Please."

Brian stared Sarah down again. "Have you ever spent a day or two just fucking someone raw, Sarah? The kind of fucking where all your parts are tender and sore for a few days after, but it makes you smile because you know why? Have you ever had a lover touch you until you feel so overly sensitive that you feel you can't take any more, but they don't stop? They push you past that point, to a place you've never been? Have you?"

Sarah blushed bright red, and once again broke eye contact with Brian. She was angry with herself for letting him take over this interrogation so easily. She was now the one unnerved, and she was beginning to find his explanation plausible at a minimum.

"Have you found any other men who engaged in such activity with Ms. Gaines?" she asked.

Brian looked at Alex, who shook his head no. "As I said, Nancy has been very discreet."

"Let's say I believe you, Brian. Why would she do this? What's her motive?"

"I don't know. I'm guessing her husband found out. As you well know, she was marked up pretty good when she left here. I think she wanted to be, then had second thoughts. Maybe the old man finally opened his eyes, and this was her only chance to not have her entire life turned upside down."

"You can't really prove a single thing you've told me, Brian. God knows if you had any evidence, it would already be in my hands. You tell a good story, but I think that is a mark of a sexual predator. They manipulate people and situations, and you seem to be quite talented at that."

"I'm not surprised by what you're saying, Sarah. We're going to keep on searching for witnesses as we prepare for court. You do what you feel you need to."

"I think I've heard enough. Good day, gentlemen," Sarah said as she rose from the table.

Brian pulled from the parking lot with Alex sitting beside him in the car.

"I told you that was a mistake, Brian. What the hell were you doing in there?"

"I disagree, Alex. One thing I did was create doubt in her mind. Didn't you see that?"

"So what? She isn't sitting on the jury. This is a huge case for a young ADA, Brian. This could make her career. She's going to come for your balls with a machete, my friend. And it seems to me that you're putting them on a platter and offering them up."

"No, I'm not. I have a plan, Alex."