Stranglehold. Part 22

"Flinched?"

"Actually moved. As though somebody were about to strike him."

"And what did you make of that?"

"That the word upset him. The word 'f.u.c.k.'"

"And did Mr. Danse use that word in your presence again that day?"

"Objection. Irrelevant."

"I'll allow it."

"Yes. Outside my office. He called me a 'f.u.c.king tighta.s.sed b.i.t.c.h.'"

"His exact words?"

"Yes."

Sansom paused, went back to their table, and sorted through some papers. He found the ones he wanted and walked back to Andrea Stone and handed them to her.

"Miss Stone, is this your report, your recommendation to this court? Is this your signature?"

"Yes."

"Could you give us the gist of it?"

"I'm recommending that exclusive custody be given to the mother, Lydia Danse. And I'm recommending termination of all visitation rights for Arthur Danse, the father."

"On what basis?"

"I believe Arthur Danse s.e.xually molested his son. I believe he's been doing so for quite some time now."

"Thank you, Miss Stone. Exhibit A for us, Your Honor. And no further questions for this witness."

"Mr. Wood?"

Wood got up slowly and approached her. He was smiling as though they were old close friends and for a moment Lydia could actually believe they were-even though she knew better. He was that good. He consulted his notes.

"Miss Stone, your testimony is that you asked Robert if there was someone doing things to him that he didn't want done, and he said, 'Maybe.' Is that right?"

"Yes."

"And you asked if someone was touching his private parts and he said 'Maybe' again. True?"

"Yes."

"But he didn't say yes or no exactly to either question, did he?"

"I felt he was avoiding a direct answer, that he was in effect trying to tell me without telling me."

"How do you know he wasn't just playing with the notion of telling you?"

"Excuse me?"

"It's been known to happen that a child, angry with one parent or another, or for that matter, angry with any adult, will use an accusation of this kind-often a thoroughly false accusation-against them. How do you know Robert wasn't just experimenting with the possibility of doing that? And then decided not to?"

"I've been at this profession quite a while, Mr. Wood. I knew. He was saying that someone had molested him."

"You say you spoke to Lydia Danse at length and she told you all about the night she made her ... observations regarding Robert. Is that true?"

"Yes."

"And did you also speak with Arthur Danse?"

"Only that one time at my office."

"Why only then?"

"He declined to see me. On your advice, I gather."

"So you never did hear his side of this. Meaning you'll be hearing it here for the first time, am I right?"

"I suppose that's true. Yes."

"Yet you've already made your recommendation to the court. Interesting-let me ask you something. You say that Robert was willing to answer your questions about other men, but not about his father, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"And you asked him specifically about other men?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I wanted to exclude the possibility that he didn't want to talk about men, period. About men in general. In an abuse case, when the abuser is of one s.e.x or the other, that's always a possibility."

"Which men did you ask him about, specifically?"

"His grandfather, Harry Danse. Ed, Cindy Fortunato's ex-husband. Dr. Bromberg. Owen Sansom."

"Did you ask about their next-door neighbor? I believe the name is Collins?"

"I may have. I don't really remember. I asked Mrs. Danse to suggest a few men he'd be likely to know. I don't recall all of them."

"You asked Mrs. Danse to suggest them?"

"Yes."

"So she orchestrated this, ah, list of suspects?"

"Objection!"

"Mr. Wood, please rephrase your question."

"There were a lot of men you didn't ask Robert about, weren't there? Men who weren't on this list that Mrs. Danse gave you? A lot of men in the neighborhood perhaps? Male teachers at school? Isn't that true?"

"I suppose so."

"So how do you know he wouldn't have wanted to talk about one of those men, either? How do you know it's just his father he doesn't want to talk about?"

"I wasn't going after his abuser here, Mr. Wood, if that's what you mean. I wasn't looking for suspects. I was only eliminating a possibility. I thought it was a fair sampling."

"You weren't going after his abuser, as you say, because you were already convinced that his abuser was Arthur Danse, am I correct?"

"Basically, yes. From the evidence it seemed quite clear to me."

"This is an investigation?"

"Objection."

"Sustained. Move on, Mr. Wood."

Wood consulted his notes again.

He walked back to their table and stood directly behind Arthur Danse.

"My client called you ... what was it? A tight-a.s.sed ...?"

"f.u.c.king tight-a.s.sed b.i.t.c.h, Mr. Wood."

Her voice had gone hard now.

He smiled. "Didn't endear him to you very much, did it?"

"No. It didn't."

"In fact you don't like my client, do you, Miss Stone?"

"My likes or dislikes have no relevance here whatsoever, Mr. Wood. As you know very well."

"No more questions, Your Honor."

She thought that Cindy did wonderfully. Wood wasn't able to shake her for a moment and hardly even tried. She was there for the most part as a character witness-as was Olive Youngjohn, Robert's teacher-but also to establish Lydia's conduct the night of the incident. Dressed in a tailored blue suit, her long blond hair pulled back in a tight knot, carefully and sparingly made up, she radiated calm and respectability. It was as though she did this every day. Lydia was proud of her.

"Mrs. Danse was obviously angry when she came to the house that night, wasn't she, Mrs. Fortunato?" Wood asked her.

"She was angry, yes, and I'd say she was deeply shaken."

"Would you say that her anger was under control?"

"Objection. Calls for an opinion," said Sansom.

"I'll allow it."

"Yes. Under the circ.u.mstances."

"But you weren't aware of the circ.u.mstances at that time, were you?"

"No, I wasn't."

"Were you aware where she was going when she left your house that night?"

"She said she had to talk to Arthur, right away."

"But she didn't tell you why."

"I didn't ask."

"You're best friends and you didn't ask?" He looked incredulous.

Cindy smiled. "Best friends know when not to ask, Mr. Wood-that's why they stay that way. But you already know that, I'm sure."

Mrs. Youngjohn was a little rockier. She looked the part perfectly-middle-aged, somewhat plump, gla.s.ses, sensible cotton print dress belted at the waist-and spoke with a.s.surance and determination as she told them about Lydia's habit of keeping in very close touch with her and Robert's other teachers about his problems. It was those problems, however, that Wood finally managed to use against her.

"You say he stutters?"

"Yes. Has trouble getting the words out."

"And he's receiving therapy for this?"

"Yes. We have a speech therapist working with him right at school."

"And you're aware that he's seeing Dr. Bromberg, a psychotherapist."

"Yes."

"And he's shy?"

"Yes."

"But his work is good."

"Yes."

"Do other kids like him, Mrs. Youngjohn?"

"Oh, Robert's a very nice boy."