Date: Sat, 17 May 2003 23:43:54 EDT
From: ErastesTouch@aol.com
Subject: Point of View - chapter 12
Legal Notice:
The following story may contain descriptions of graphic sexual acts. These
acts may be between boys or between a man and a boy. The story is a work
of fiction and has no basis in reality.
The author, or his designee, retains copyright to this story. There may be
no reproducing or distribution of this story without expressed written
consent.
I wish to extend my thank you to Ed for his editorial assistance with this
chapter.
* * * * * * * *
Point of View - by Erastes Copyright 2003 by Erastes
Chapter 12 - The accusations. February 2003
This experience was scary, intimidating, and humiliating. I was taken into
the booking area, fingerprinted and then had my mug shots taken. In my
naivete, I made the whole experience easy for the police and made sure they
had everything they needed. It began with the fingerprints, and the
officers asked me to wash my hands first, which I obediently did. Later I
learned that career criminals or others who are wise to the process are not
quite as cooperative, using their knowledge of the procedure to try to keep
the authorities from getting readable or identifiable prints from them. As
one inmate later explained to me, most of them would continually rub their
fingers into the dirt on the floor, trying to get pieces to stick to the
oils in their skin, while others would carry chap stick in their pockets,
to smear on their fingertips before being printed. Doing those types of
things often made the prints taken unreadable or unreliable, and prevented
them from being used to identify them later. When they were asked to wash
their hands, they would do so, but only running the water on their palms,
and then using the paper towel only on that same area. I thought this
pretty ingenious, but I would learn even more as I met others wise to the
criminal ways.
After the booking process was complete, I was taken into a room to be
interrogated about the charges, but fortunately I had seen enough cop and
lawyer shows on TV to know enough to ask for a lawyer, before I responded
to any of their questions. I was allowed to make a phone call, but the
only attorney I knew was the one I used to go over my contracts with the
book publishers and handle my financial affairs. Although I knew this
wasn't his field of expertise, I called him just the same, hoping he would
be able to get me an attorney who was versed in criminal law.
"Good afternoon, Coughlin, Gerhart, Hinman, and Kattell."
"Hello, may I speak with Jack Coughlin, please."
"May I ask who is calling?"
"Yes. Tell him it's Bob Cox."
"Certainly, Mr. Cox. Just one second, please." I was placed on hold while
the secretary informed my lawyer I was on the line. After a slight delay,
he answered.
"Hello, Bob. What might I do for you?"
"Jack, I've been arrested. I know this isn't your field, but I need you to
get me the best criminal lawyer you know."
"You can count on it, Bob, but what are the charges?" When I told him, he
was nearly as shocked as I had been. "I think I know just the man for you.
Sit tight and don't say a word. I'll get him there just as soon as I can."
After thanking Jack for his assistance, I hung up the phone and was led to
a holding cell, where I would have to wait until my lawyer showed up.
There was one other guy in there, probably in his mid to late twenties, and
I walked in and merely leaned against the wall.
"Whatcha in here for?" he asked. I eyed him carefully, wondering if I
should even bother to respond at all. I finally decided I didn't need any
enemies in here, so I'd answer him as tersely as possible.
"A misunderstanding," I told him, hoping that would suffice.
"Aren't we all," he replied, releasing a little chuckle. "I just got
busted for trying to take a laptop from a store. I saw it sitting
unguarded behind a counter, so I picked it up and headed for the door.
Unfortunately a clerk spotted me and somehow alerted security. I was
nabbed just as I was going out the door. I tried to explain it was just a
misunderstanding too, but they wouldn't listen. So what did you do?"
"Actually, I'm not sure, although I was told I was being arrested for
having sexual contact with a minor." He laughed again.
"Was she worth it, man?" he shot back.
"To tell you the truth I have no idea, because I'm not sure about what
they're referring to."
"Stick to that story, man. Tell 'em the bitch looked legal, told you she
was legal, and you had no reason to question if she was legal."
I thanked him for his advice, knowing he'd probably turn on me if he
discovered the sexual contact was supposed to be with an underage boy, and
then I went back to concentrating on my own problems. He sat quietly for
the most part, attempting to engage me in conversation from time to time.
"It's your first time, isn't it?"
"First time what?" I responded, not sure what he meant.
"First time being arrested. I can always tell first timers. They're
always quiet, spending their time trying to plan a strategy or something.
Don't worry, your lawyer will tell you what to do, and if he's worth his
fee, he'll have you out of here in no time."
I thanked him for his insights, hoping he would leave it at that, but then
he went on to give me a few more pointers, including the one I told you
earlier about the fingerprints. He soon told me he'd been arrested for the
first time when he was thirteen, and then he bragged that he had learned
most of the tricks of the trade by fifteen. Obviously he hadn't learned
the right tricks, or he wouldn't be in here now. We continued to talk off
and on, even though I tried to let him know I really didn't want to talk,
but he must have felt that I'd be better off distracted from my current
concerns. Mercifully, my lawyer's arrival was announced about that time,
and it got me out of the holding cell, so I didn't have to spend any more
time alone with this guy.
"Cox, your lawyer is here," one of the guards called out, and then he
unlocked the door and led me to a small, windowless room. Inside sat a man
in a suit, whom I presumed to be my attorney. He stood up as I entered,
extended his hand to me, and introduced himself. "I'm Bruno Colongeli," he
announced. "Jack Coughlin said you could use my assistance."
"I certainly could, and thanks for taking my case."
"We haven't come to any agreement about that yet, and we need to discuss a
few things first. To begin with, I'll need a $10,000 retainer. Will that
be a problem for you?"
"No, I'll contact Jack and give him temporary power of attorney, so he'll
be able to get the money out of my account for you."
"Good. Now that's settled, I've looked this over and the district attorney
has three affidavits to support these charges. First of all, have you ever
been convicted of any crime or been arrested before?"
"No to both, and may I see those affidavits?" I asked, wondering how there
could possibly be three of them. Who could have possibly filled out an
affidavit besides Jared? No one else knew what we did. What the hell was
going on here?
"Certainly. I have copies of them," he responded, "but let's clear up some
of these other items first. To begin with, tell me everything that's
happened since the police showed up at your home."
I told him everything I could remember, from the time the doorbell rang at
my house, until the time I entered this room with him. He jotted down some
notes, asked me some questions, and then he dug out the affidavits for me
to look over. The first one was from someone I didn't even know, so I
skipped over it and looked at the next one, which was signed by Jared. My
heart sank to the pit of my stomach and I became nauseated as I read the
words on that piece of paper.
"I spent time with Bob Cox because I would do odd jobs for him. I don't
remember when it first happened, but I think I was still 14 when Bob and I
began to do sex things with each other. Mostly we would rub each other's
privates, but sometimes we would suck on them too.
"I didn't really want to do those things, but Bob said I had to, or else I
couldn't work for him. Seeing I needed the money to help my mom, I did
them with him. We would usually do these things about once a week,
sometimes more."
I was absolutely stunned after reading it. Other than the fact that we did
some of those things, none of the rest of his statement bore any
resemblance to the truth. I didn't understand it. Why would Jared do
this? I thought he loved me, not only as a father, but as a lover too, so
what was this all about? Maybe it was a forgery and Jared didn't say this
at all.
"Are you all right?" the lawyer asked me. "You look as if you'd seen a
ghost. Is there something wrong with you?"
"Other than the fact that this is completely false?" I shot back. "Are you
sure this really came from Jared and isn't some sort of a set up?"
"I have no reason to doubt the source. Are you saying none of that it
true?" I looked at him now, not sure how I should respond.
"Look, I know if I tell you things, then you're stuck with them, so how
honest do you want me to be with you?" He eyed me now.
"If you want me to get you out of this mess, I need to know the whole
truth. Now, are you saying that none of that is the truth?"
"No, I'm not saying that," I responded.
"Then what is the truth, and what isn't?" He was staring at me now, and I
knew I had to tell him everything. I didn't want to do anything to hurt
Jared, but I had to let this guy know what had actually happened.
"Okay, I did do some sexual things with the kid, some mutual masturbation
and oral sex. The thing is, he's the one that came to me for it, and I put
him off for a long time, but eventually I weakened and gave in. He's a
great kid and I can't believe he'd ever say these things about me. They're
not true! I didn't force him or threaten him, and he knows it, and I can't
see him saying this to anyone."
"Well, it's an official police statement, and it's all legal. I don't know
what we can do to challenge it, except cross-examine the boy on the witness
stand. How about the other statements? Do those seem accurate to you?" I
had forgotten about those, but now I looked at the only one I hadn't looked
at previously. This statement was made by Josh, but I couldn't imagine
what he might have to say about any of this. Did he see something one
night when he slept over? I wasn't sure, so I began to read his affidavit
to find out what he had to say.
"One day I went down to Bob Cox's house looking for my brother. When I
went inside, I didn't see anyone around, so I went looking for them. I
finally found them in Bob's bedroom. Bob was lying on the bed with my
brother on all fours over him. Bob was sucking on Jared's dick, and Jared
was also sucking on Bob's.
"Neither of them knew I saw them, because the door to the bedroom was open
when I got there, and I left without them knowing I was there. I never
told either of them what I saw."
Well, I guess that explains some things, but I wonder when he saw us doing
that. I searched my mind to see if I could think of a time when that might
possibly have happened, and I drew a blank, but it wasn't out of the realm
of possibility.
"What about that one?" my attorney asked me. "Is it the truth or not?"
"I don't know," I told him honestly. "It might be true, but I have no way
of knowing, and I can't think of a time when that might have happened."
"How about the last one then? Look that over and let me know what you
think of it." I nodded and grabbed the first affidavit again. I still
didn't recognize the name attached to it, but this time I read the
contents, not just the name.
"I work as an aide at the school attended by Josh Carlson, and one day I
overheard Josh talking to one of his friends. He told him he had seen his
brother having oral sex with a guy named Bob, and I later figured out Bob
was an adult. Seeing I knew Josh's brother to be under the legal age of
consent, I reported it to Children's Services, and they sent me here to
fill out this report."
"What do you think of that one?" the lawyer asked me, as I set the paper
down.
"I can't comment on this one, as I don't know the person and it seems to be
all hearsay." The lawyer nodded, collected the statements from me and put
them back in his folder.
"The arraignment is supposed to be in a half-hour or so. The officers will
take you up to the courtroom, and I'll meet you there. Keep quiet and let
me do all the talking. We should be able to get you released on your own
recognizance, or at least make it so you can post bail."
I acknowledged what he told me and then he left, and I was taken back to
the holding cell. The other guy was gone now, so I concluded he might have
been taken for his arraignment already. I sat on the cot this time and
waited to be taken to court. It wasn't long before a guard came down,
placed me back in handcuffs, and told me he was taking me to be arraigned.
He led me to an elevator, and we got on it. He told me we'd be getting off
at the second floor, and when the elevator stopped at that level, I was
surprised that the guard seemed to be holding back. Wasn't he afraid I'd
take off or something? However, that's when I discovered the reason he had
lagged behind me. Suddenly, there was a series of flashes, as a
photographer began to snap several pictures of me as I got off the
elevator. I quickly threw up my hands and turned my head, but it was too
late. By this time he had already taken at least two or three decent shots
of me, and there was nothing I could do to get them back.
The guard now grabbed a hold of my elbow and whisked me into the courtroom.
As we passed through the doorway, I saw my attorney standing off to one
side, and he approached me as we entered. He quickly explained to me what
would happen when my case was called, and we waited for that to happen.
When our docket number was announced, we stepped forward and took our
places behind the table my attorney had pointed out to me earlier.
"Bruno Colongeli for the defendant, your honor. We waive reading of the
charges and my client enters a plea of not guilty. We also ask that my
client be released on his own recognizance." The judge looked over at the
assistant district attorney, who was now standing behind the other table.
"Your honor, these are fairly serious charges, and we ask for remand."
"Why don't we compromise," the judge suggested, as if had anticipated what
both lawyers had planned to say. "Bail is set at $10,000, cash or bond."
We left the table and my lawyer spoke to me again, once when we got to the
back of the courtroom. "I talked to Jack earlier and he said he'd cover
your bills until he could get in to have you sign the power of attorney. I
don't think he'll need to do that now, but I will go post your bail, and
then I'll drive you home. When we get there, you can write me one check to
cover both the retainer and the bail money. Is that all right with you?"
I quickly agreed, but I was still led back to the holding cell, to wait
until my bail was actually posted. The holding cell was still empty when
we got there, so the other guy either got released or was now in a jail
cell. I sat there for about twenty minutes before my lawyer showed up
again, and then I was released into his custody. He led me down to where
his car was parked and we got inside, and then I gave him directions, so he
could drive me back to my place. When we reached the house, I took him
inside and wrote him the check to cover the retainer and the ten-percent he
had put down on my bail bond. Once he had pocketed my check, he told me he
had to leave, but he'd be in touch. As I watched him back down my
driveway, I began to wonder how this whole thing was going to turn out.
I quickly locked all my doors, not wanting any uninvited company at this
point, but then again I didn't envision that happening. Now I began to
wonder why Josh and Jared had given those statements. Did Josh really see
us on one occasion? How could I have been so stupid and so careless as to
let that happen? And Jared, how could he say those things about me? Why
would he say I made him do those things? I should have stuck to my guns
and never given in to him in the first place. My brain had told me to keep
emotionally detached from him, but my heart quickly fell in love with that
cute imp, making it impossible for me to put off his requests forever. In
the long run, I guess the little head made the decision the big head should
have made, and now I was going to pay for listening to the head without the
brain.
Now I wandered around the house, not knowing where to go or what to do.
The phone rang a couple of times, but I didn't want to speak to anyone
right now, so I let it continue to ring, allowing my message center to
record any messages. I continued to roam from room to room, but everywhere
I went it reminded me of times I had spent with the boys, or things I had
done with Jared. I was going through an emotional tug of war, wanting to
remember those times, but then grappling with the pain of knowing things
such as that would never happen again. I didn't know what to do to ease
the pain, but soon I discovered comfort in an old standby. In my many
trips around the house, I found a bottle of wine, popped the cork, and
slowly tried to drown all my unhappiness. I not only downed that bottle of
wine, but I found another and opened that too, and soon I had polished off
both bottles. By this time I was feeling no pain, but I also wasn't
thinking very clearly. I began to think this nightmare was going to end
and that things would work out in my favor. I believed I would end up
spending time with Jared and Josh again, and that my life would end up
going back to the way it was before any of this happened. I eventually
went to my room to lie down on my bed, and soon I passed out.
I don't remember much beyond that point, at least not until I came to the
next morning. I was a little hung over at that point, with that telltale
taste in my mouth, which helped me to remember exactly what I had done the
night before. After cleaning up and changing my clothes, I went downstairs
and grabbed a bite to eat, and then I checked my message center. The first
message was from the local paper, trying to get me to give them 'my' view
of the charges. The next call was from Jack Coughlin, asking me to contact
him today, so we could take care of some 'loose ends'. There was also a
third call, but that person left no message, so I figured it might have
been one of the first two callers trying again, most likely the reporter
calling back trying to spruce up his story.
I picked up the phone and called Jack. "Good morning, Coughlin, Gerhart,
Hinman, and Kattell," his secretary answered.
"Hello, may I speak with Jack Coughlin, please."
"May I ask who is calling, please?"
"Yes. It's Bob Cox."
"Certainly, Mr. Cox. Just one second and I'll see if Mr. Coughlin is
available." I was placed on hold while the secretary went to see if her
boss could take the call. Soon I heard Jack's familiar voice on the line.
"Bob, how are you doing?" he asked, sounding very concerned.
"I've been better, Jack. My whole life seems a shambles right now."
"I understand, but Bruno and I will do our best to try to help you put
everything back in order. That's why I called last night. Bruno told me
you wanted to give me power of attorney, just in case you weren't able to
handle your own affairs. I know you're out of jail now, so do you still
want to do that?"
"Yes, Jack. Just as a safety precaution. I'm not sure how this is going
to end up, and I'm not sure I'll want to deal with certain things right
away, so I'll let you handle those issues for me, if you don't mind?"
"No, that's fine and I understand. Do you want to come down today and sign
the papers? I can have them drawn up in no time."
"I'd prefer not to have to show my face in town for a while. The newspaper
seems anxious to get my picture, and they're also trying to finagle some
comments from me about this. Would it be possible for you to come here to
take care of that?"
"Those vultures have been after you already?"
"Yes, they had a photographer at the courthouse, and he snapped my picture
as I got off the elevator. Then someone from the newspaper left a message
for me last night, wanting me to call them back, so they could get my side
of the story."
"They do seem to thrive on other people's misery, don't they?" He didn't
wait for me to respond. "Okay, you stay home then, and I'll drop by after
work. I'll bring the paperwork and you can just sign the forms then. Bob,
can I bring you anything else when I come?"
I took a minute to think about this. "Yes, if you wouldn't mind, would you
please pick up a copy of the local paper for me. I want to see what
they're saying about all this."
"Are you sure you want to do that?" Again he sounded very concerned.
"Yes, I think I need to know what the locals are hearing about this case."
"Okay, I'll pick up a copy on my way there. In fact, I'll drop a copy off
each evening, if that's what you want?"
"Thanks, and that would be great, at least for a few days. That way I can
see what I'll be facing outside of the courtroom, as well as within."
"Okay, Bob. I'll see you later then."
I spent the rest of the afternoon inside my house. I did open some windows
to get some fresh air, but I made sure the windows I had opened had screens
in them and the blinds on those windows were only open enough to let the
air in. I also made sure all the doors were locked, as I didn't want
anyone infringing on my privacy. I tried to do some writing, but that
proved to be a useless venture, so I sat down to flick through the channels
on my TV. At least that would give me a slight diversion, without having
to concentrate too much on the program I was viewing. I ended up watching
reruns of older shows on A & E, FX, TNT, and USA, but I was doing this
merely to get my mind off my legal woes.
Mercifully, Jack showed up and dragged me away from these brain-numbing
episodes, and we discussed my current situation. I told him where I kept
certain items, like my checkbook, and signed the power of attorney,
allowing him to do things on my behalf, in case I wasn't able to do them
for myself. I had to face the fact that I could end up being incarcerated
for these charges, and if that happened, I'd need someone to take care of
those things for me. After that, Jack wished me well before he left, and
told me he'd keep in touch. I asked him if the publisher had become aware
of my situation or if he thought it might affect future dealings with them,
and he said he doubted both. The publishing company was a large
organization in a major city, and he doubted small town gossip would gain
their attention. I thanked him for his observations, and then he left.
Over the next few days I checked out the local newspaper and watched the
local television new shows, just to see how I was being portrayed. At
first, my arrest had been given a rather large section of the front of the
community section of the newspaper and was one of the headlines on the
nightly news broadcast, but after a short time the attention dwindled, but
I assumed this attention would swell again, once this case went to trial.
My lawyer and I had already been discussing strategy, and this included
things I dreaded being done. Not only the fact that I'd probably have to
testify and face cross-examination, but that Jared and Josh probably would
have to do so too. I didn't want my lawyer attacking them and raking them
over the coals, but he assured me that might be necessary, to discredit
their testimony. I wanted no part in hurting either boy, but Bruno
explained that I had no choice, if I wanted to beat this rap. Reluctantly,
I let him proceed, and I stayed holed up in my home.
We had several court dates over the next few weeks, but every time we went,
the case was put off until a later date. It seemed odd how many times we
went to court before a trial date was set, but I guess the wheels of
justice do grind exceedingly slow. However, I wondered if this conflicted
with the accused's right to a speedy trial. Whatever the reason, the case
seemed to drag on.
During that period I remained a recluse, locked up in my own home. I
didn't even go out to shop. I found a company called 'Shop 4-U' that would
let me call in my grocery order, do the shopping for me, and then charge me
a fee for doing so. This meant I would only have to come into contact with
this one individual, and still have the things I would need to survive. We
worked out an arrangement, and that was how I took care of my needs from
that point on.
During that period of time, some other things began to happen too,
beginning with the harassing phone calls I started to receive. Seeing I
wasn't answering my phone during this time period, those callers were kind
enough to leave me messages, calling me disgusting names, letting me know
that people like me were not wanted in this area, and then they went on to
describe things they would do to me or my home, if I should decide to stay.
I realize most of these people who call and leave messages like that are
cowards, hiding behind the anonymity of a telephone, and that most of them
were just blowing smoke and would never have the guts to act. However,
seeing there was a chance there might be one who would carry out his
threats, I called the State Police and reported these incidents.
An officer came out to take my report, listened to some of the messages I
hadn't already deleted, and then he told me he'd see if he could trace
where the calls came from and who the callers were. He didn't spend very
much time investigating this, and he really didn't seem to be very
interested in my concerns, and I got the feeling he thought I might be
getting what I deserved, even though he had to file a report on the matter.
After he left I decided that I wouldn't report any further incidents, as I
wasn't sure it was doing me any good to do so.
That wasn't the only thing that happened either. A couple of times when I
was outside, either retrieving my mail or going to or from my car after
meeting with my lawyer, the drivers or passengers in cars going by would
shout out obscenities at me, or make other derogatory comments as they went
by. One guy actually threw an empty beer bottle in my direction. It
missed me by three or four feet and landed harmlessly on the lawn, but I
knew that guy would've loved to have seen it crash into my skull. I
thought about reporting this, but after the reaction I got to the harassing
phone calls, I decided against it. Why set myself up for another
disappointment and more grief?
During this time I also spent a great many hours wondering why Jared would
have given the statement he did. I was still certain he wouldn't do
anything to harm me, unless he felt he had no other choice, so I wondered
what it was that would make him say those things. Then I wondered if
Sherry found out what her son and I had been doing, and upon learning that,
she made him file that report. The problem was, I couldn't see Sherry
doing that either. If she'd found out about what we'd been up to, I'm sure
she'd have approached me herself, rather than forcing her son to hurt
someone she knew he cared a great deal about. She realized more than
anyone else that Jared had been hurt far too much already, and I don't
think she'd hurt him more by making him file charges against me. No, that
couldn't be it.
I would spend the next several weeks continuing to ponder this question, as
I prepared myself for the trial. I had many more meetings with my lawyer,
and he spent a great deal of time preparing me for what was to come. We
spent many hours refining our legal strategy, going over what types of
things might be said and what other accusations might be made, but we also
took time to fine-tune my possible testimony. I was not looking forward to
testifying at all, and I couldn't imagine what Jared and Josh might be
going through, knowing they'd have to get up in court and testify to the
things they had said in their statements too. I wasn't sure how this was
going to play out, or what the future held for any of us, but I knew things
would never return to what we once had, and that thought saddened me
greatly. Before any of this happened, I began to think that for once in my
life things seemed perfect, but now it was all just another shattered
dream.
* * * * * * * *
Positive emails may be sent to ErastesTouch@aol.com