Confessions of a Re-Formed Pervert Pt. 02

1986 -Descending Into Darkness

The year began well enough. I became a full partner in the practice. In May, Leah and I went down to the city (Manhattan). A Museum of Sex was opening in midtown. To help launch it, the Guggenheim had a special exhibit of feminine undergarments from medieval times to the present. It was a mind-blowing exhibit. I was most fascinated with the ornate and bejeweled corsets, bustiers, and garter belts of the Victoria area that were worn under those ornate gowns. Leah had to drag me away from there. The very next month, I thought I hit the mother lode with my newest patient.

Margaret Hollenback, best known as a philanthropic supporter of the arts, was 82 when her assistant made the appointment with me the prior week. I came highly recommended to Mrs. Hollenback by one of my regular patients. The socialite's current dentist passed away unexpectedly two weeks before. Moreover, she detested the only associate to the decedent's practice so when I called her to obtain the X-Rays, she wasn't the most accommodating colleague with whom I had ever dealt. Still, I got the job done, examined the X-Rays, and was able to prepare to handle the job. The arts patron had been scheduled for root canal surgery to save a post and the pain was returning.

Tired of being consistently recognized, she demanded complete privacy with no other clients around and preferably no assistants. Her schedule was busy. The best time for her was 7:30 PM but her chauffeur might get her there earlier or later depending upon traffic. She would be wearing a rare and delicate outfit to a ceremony prior to the appointment so I had to be especially careful to keep her stain-free. I was to call the chauffeur precisely 15 minutes before I anticipated that Mrs. Hollenback would be able to leave.

Shortly before 5:00 PM that evening, Astrid who we hired as a hygienist and office assistant in January asked me if I was leaving soon. I explained why I was staying late and she now connected that in her head to the mysterious appointment she heard me take personally when Hollenback's assistant refused to give her any info. She asked if she could pick me up a sandwich since I had awhile to wait. I readily accepted the offer and soon was biting into an eggplant parmesan sub from our favorite local pizza place after I thanked Astrid and she took off.

At 7:30 on the dot, the chauffeur rang the bell and I let him in. He introduced me to Mrs. Hollenback, then said he had duties to fulfill and gave me a number to call him to return 15 minutes before his boss was to be ready to be picked up. Mrs. Hollenback was delightful, commencing with the rave reviews I had received from her friend. If I hadn't been told she was 82, I'd have made her out for her late sixties. Her face looked soft and youthful and the fact that they must've been kept looking that way artificially was only obvious because I had been told her age. Otherwise, my doctor's eye picked up no telltale scars or stiffness. Her periwinkle blue gown smacked of Victorian elegance as did her matching shoes. They were antique classic kept in pristine condition. Now I understood the warning about the clothes I had received.

She had come straight from the Frick Museum in Manhattan where she cut the ribbon on a new exhibit that she had not only funded but had a big hand in securing for the Frick. It was the American debut of a collection of English impressionists that had been in the Duchess of Windsor's private collection for 80 years. The collection made its public debut at the British Museum the prior December. It was only from using all her influence that Mrs. Hollenback was able to secure the American debut for the Frick for several others were after it. She regaled me with several stories before I commenced work on her mouth. The one that mesmerized me was about the discomfort she had been suffering for her love of authentic art. Not only was she wearing a gown befitting the era but also a whalebone corset and bustier set with imported Chinese silk trim . I told her that I had been warned to protect her gown. Since we were completely alone as she requested, would she prefer removing her gown and I could work on her just in her undergarments? She candidly stated that she'd like to strip naked altogether but she would stop at the gown and shoes for propriety's sake.

She joked, "Remember this has to stay "just between us girls." I blushed demurely, then hung the gown neatly in the closet.

Getting to work on her mouth, I was amazed in what otherwise impeccable shape the teeth of this 82-year old woman were at an age when most 10 years younger wore dentures. Eventually, I was ready to do the drilling and put her out with nitrous oxide. While she was out, I couldn't resist touching her undergarments, feeling the whalebone of the corset and the elegant silk that held it. Even though I was wearing gloves as always with a patient, the feel was exquisite.

THEN DISASTER STRUCK. I had my hands under the bra segment of the bustier when the door opened. Astrid said, "Hi Doc, I realized I left my pills here..." This was followed by, "What the Fuck! Get away from her you pervert."

I stammered, "Astrid, relax. This is not at all what you think. Mrs. Hollenback herself..."

She took pepper spray out of her purse and pointed it at me. "I said NOW, get away from her! I don't want to give you the chance to confuse me. I know what I saw." Astrid called 9-1-1 and told them that a helpless woman was incapacitated by an attempted rapist.

I started to get angry myself, "I can't believe you said that. This woman came here because she trusted me. She removed her gown voluntarily to protect it. She wanted private attention because she hates people violating her privacy."

Astrid stopped me. "Violating IS the word all right."

I raised my voice, "Anyway, Miss High-and-Mighty, what do you think you saw me doing? I certainly was not trying to rape this senior citizen like you said to the police. She's a public treasure and I was treating her as the royalty she is."

She said accusatorily, "Why did you have your hands under that poor woman's breasts?"

I thought fast, "While waiting for the nitrous oxide to take effect, I noticed a gaging reflex taking hold. That happens sometime, so I was pressing down on her diaphragm."

Astrid countered, "Below the cups of her boobs?"

I protested, "I don't know what you thought you saw at that angle. My hands were pressing on her diaphragm."

Astrid said, "Okay, just sit in the chair next to your desk. I'm too upset to sit. I've heard on the news about pervert dentists, but never thought that YOU..."

I said, "Astrid, really. Think of her. I'm still concerned about her privacy. Can I at least call her chauffeur and tell him to come to er aid?"

Astrid insisted, "No. The police should be here any minute."

The police came in and took statements from both of us. About the time Astrid had finished hers, Mrs. Hollenback was waking up. When she found out what was going on, she was furious. She wanted nothing to do with the publicity and she was furious that her work had never gotten started, let alone finished. She became even angrier when she learned that her chauffeur had not been summoned. The police wanted to question her. Mrs. Hollenback indignantly refused. Later, when escorted out by the chauffeur, she gave them a number to call her secretary for an appointment to come to the estate and ask her questions. Astrid and I went with the officers to the Darien police station to give our statements. I thought once the confusion was cleared up, we would both be sent home. Instead, my life as a respected dentist was over.

The World Goes Amok

It turned out that I was out of step with the context of how most people were going to perceive this. The case of a dentist in Long Island who fondled and sucked his female patients' boobs made national headlines and stimulated prurient interests from coast to coast just the year before. Now my case would come to the fore. Once the public became involved, it became a battle cry not to let the police cover up for another rich and perverted dentist taking liberties.

It's painful for me to relive this part so I'll focus on the top line items. I was questioned on suspicion of rape, invasion of privacy, and lewd behavior, then released but told not to leave the area since there was a continuing investigation. Meanwhile, a snowball started turning into an avalanche.

A National Examiner (a supermarket tabloid) reporter somehow picked up the info that a respected local dentist has been accused of sexually accosting Mrs. Hollenback. The first headlines blared about what kind of fiend assaults an 82-year old woman, especially one so generous. A local paper, the Stamford Advocate also started following the story and a TV station, WTNH asked people to call in if they knew of any improprieties committed. Now sensationalized, Mrs. Hollenback never talked to police and fled to a private health spa in Sweden where she was not to be disturbed. Thus she could never corroborate my story of why the dress was removed. Without the lingerie or Mrs. Hollenback, there could be no proving or disproving my version of events. At first, learning this elated me. After all, in America, I am innocent until proven guilty, right?

When you look for something suspicious, you find it, whether it's there or not. The Examiner obtained a list of all the patients I had seen that year and made phone calls looking for dirt on me. They started making a case based on anecdotal evidence. One regular female patient, Mrs. Rothstein, said she dreamed one night just last week that I was sucking on her breasts. It was then that she recalled a brief memory of seeing me clip her front-fastening bra back together but never said anything because I was so respectable she thought it must have been her imagination. The police took her statement and asked if she wanted to press charges. She did and filed a civil suit the next day. So much for patient loyalty. I had gone a year without payment for her bridge reconstruction at her request when her husband was unemployed. Now, she fired the starting gun that set things off to the races without one shred of fact in her statement.

That's when the media circus took off full throttle.. One woman said she saw me looking in a funny way toward her daughter. Then someone talked about seeing me at the Guggenheim so obsessed with Victorian lingerie that my wife had to drag me out of there. They also found and interviewed the salesgirl from the Frederick's of Hollywood from whom I purchased the maid's outfit and the teddy I took with me on or British Columbia vacation. She said most of her customers were men so that was not unusual. However, she remembered me because she saw me getting a bit too excited while pawing silk.

Fallon Corcoran was 17 years old and six months pregnant but still swearing to her mother that she never had sex. Her mother after reading the stories, spoke to her daughter, called the Darien police. Her daughter said while still in a daze she remembered seeing the top of my head move up as she felt top button on the fly of her jeans being fastened. She didn't remember that until now. When she took her jeans and panties off that night, she said she noticed that her panties were on backwards and thought that odd. It had all had flown out of her mind, but had returned. Now, it made sense to her? How else could she have gotten pregnant?

To make matters worse, an amniocentesis showed the baby had blood type A-positive and I was the same; this was years before the precise DNA testing they have now was available. After this, I got charged with felony rape and a whole host of other charges. They didn't charge me with rape against Mrs. Hollenback as she was still in Sweden and incommunicado. However, a lot of other charges were being made on the basis of Fallon's statement and another patient who said she remembered seeing me sucking on her boobs but was too embarrassed to say anything until now. It took me time to recall her because she wasn't a regular and removing her impacted wisdom tooth did not take very long.

Then I got another shock, my wife informed me that she had to put the children first. Since the fall term was starting in a few weeks, this would be the perfect time to move them. She had secured a job at a clinic in Virginia, rented a house, and was moving there with the kids. She would be filing for divorce as soon as practicable and would obtain an order for me to sell the house. Her timing was perfect. Ten minutes after Leah finished telling me this, the police came to arrest me then have me arraigned. Three weeks later the grand jury indicted me. I was transferred from the local jail to a medium security facility jail - A REAL JAIL.

This is when the media dubbed me "Elliott Perlmutter, Darien's Demented Dentist."

During this entire period, I did three smart things. I recused myself from my practice. I refused to comment to anybody about this. Most importantly and once in custody, I immediately called Hal Wigod, a top criminal attorney and my best friend when we were both at Yale. Hal knew his stuff and confirmed my good judgment regarding silence. He said, "Most people would want to give their side of the story. You've done a great job of staying mum since your initial statement to the police. You didn't say anything I could find that should work against you there. So, that leads off the good news." After questioning me further, he said that he believed my story and it wasn't often he defended someone who was completely innocent of the charges. He joked that he hoped he wasn't too rusty doing that.

He said the best thing we had going for us, at least so far, was that all of the prosecution's case was circumstantial. Unfortunately, there was going to be a lot of their-words-against-yours testimony. The jury and judge are supposed to listen one-at-a-time to these and see that if no proof of guilt exists, no matter how many people say what they saw, remembered, and dreamed, if your testimony cannot be disproven, they should find you innocent. You know the world doesn't work as it should. Neither does the courtroom. The DA has gone sanctimoniously to the media swearing that he'll never accept a plea deal. He's made some outrageous statements. Hal laid it on the line to me. "The lynch mob is gathering full force and they want to see you hanged."

The Examiner continued to weigh in beyond the profiling and interviews with alleged victims that everyone was doing. Eventually they unearthed and secured interviews with anyone who had ever been involved with anything sexually prurient in my past, including: Cousin Joanie, Tyler and Mary Ann from New Canaan, other neighbors from New Canaan with vivid imaginations, and Jake from British Columbia. Apparently Simon, God bless him, refused to be interviewed.

How they found all these people from my past and got them to share details I'll never know. Just to add to the circus, two days after Jake was interviewed about our liaison including details of the blow job I gave Simon, one of my male patients filed a complaint saying he now remembered with certainty waking up and seeing put his dick back inside his pants zipper and then zip him up. Needless to say, all of these patients who filed charges with the police about now-remembered transgressions by yours truly also followed Mrs. Rothstein's lead until the total amount I faced in civil suits topped five million dollars. Hal asked me to sign a power of attorney to retain tort counsel on my behalf. I agreed. This continued a few more weeks. What a nightmare this was! I was morose. Still the worst was yet to come.

During a free period when most prisoners were in the yard, a guard named Frank said, "You look like you could use some solace alone. Let me walk you down there." I nodded my approval and followed him. He unlocked the door to the library, walked five feet into the room, then he left. The next thing I knew, I was grabbed by three prisoners and moved into the stacks not visible from the library entrance. One of the con's I didn't know yelling "Open up, Painless."

I gulped, "What?"

The loud voice continued, "I'm gonna stick something tasty in your mouth so you'd better be a good little pervert and suck it nicely."

Knowing that alternatives were few, I opened wide, and tried to lick him as fast as I could. Then, I felt something else. My pants were pulled down giving access to both my openings. What happened next was neither surprising nor pleasurable. I felt one leave my rectum but soon was stuffed by another. I didn't know how many there were, but I knew it wouldn't end until they decided it would. I knew the best thing I could do is be as cooperative as possible in trying to keep my legs opened wide and moving my rear in synch with their rhythms. The other essential thing was not to look at any of their faces or anything but the dicks I saw. I figured that the less I saw, the better my chance of living. This was not anything like that time in BC when I had Simon making love to my rear end. It was violent and angry. Finally, someone pulled out, saying something was gross and I thought I heard the word blood. I lowered my butt and head to the ground and nobody stopped me so I thought they might be done with their fun.

Then I heard a raspy voice say, "Everybody out. I want this pervert to myself." Next I felt a blow to my temple and I blacked out.

The Road to Recovery

Eventually, I awoke in the Intensive Care Unit. Finally, a nurse brought a surgeon over to see me. I was asked a few general questions to ascertain if I remembered who I was. After a few lucidity tests, I was informed that I had been assaulted with a knife, severely messing up my face and other body parts. Finally, the surgeon, Dr. Ledyard, said she had no way of sugar-coating the ugly truth. My testes and scrotum were gone and could not be saved as living tissue. Then she told me about the other injuries. She ticked off a list including a fractured cheekbone, broken jawbone, broken leg, and a severely bruised rectum.

Ledyard said rehabilitation would take a few months. She added I would be given some options in the morning about addressing the other emaining issues. It all sounded pretty antiseptic but it certainly wasn't. I had a sleepless night with many more questions than answers. Why had they even bothered to save my life? I heard someone trying to see me but being told I was still in a coma but could not be disturbed. What on Earth was going on? I stayed isolated in ICU being fed intravenously and using bedpans for an indeterminate period. I lost track of time and my pleas to talk to someone else went unheeded.

Just when I was in the throes of utter despair, the tide shifted back to my side. It turned out that Hal was the one person I could count on.

He was my advocate in every sense of the word. Detectives he hired worked tirelessly until ascertaining that Fallon's baby-daddy was actually her first cousin Timothy, 9 years Fallon's elder and engaged to a young lady with means. Faced with overwhelming evidence, the Corcorans dropped the charges and the civil suit. Mrs. Hollenback sent over a deposition from Sweden that she removed the dress voluntarily. After that, the DA went back to all the other filers to see if he had anything tangible and he did not.

"So congratulations," Hal continued, "you are a free man. All criminal charges and all civil suits against you have been dropped. In fact, your former shoes are now on a bunch of other feet. I've kept Art Dalrymple, the torts guy, on retainer. Only now, he's on offense. We've already opened discussions with a number of parties including the State of Connecticut and its Department of Corrections, the National Examiner, CNN, WOR-TV, Maureen Corcoran, Frank Casey, Eamon Creed, and Foster Castleman. Before we're through, you are going to collect an obscene amount of money, most likely in a settlement but it may take a couple of years - or perhaps not in the case of the State."