The Forgotten Hours(38)

Armed with the case number, which she found among the papers in the pirate box, Katie went back to the clerk’s office at the courthouse later that day, after David left for his concert. The woman with the glasses told her to come back in an hour, and when Katie returned, they had located the folders relating to her father’s case, which did in fact seem to include the transcript and some of the ensuing legal paperwork regarding the appeal. They pointed her toward a dingy room next to the office in which two metal desks sat back-to-back, covered in papers. There was a broken chair leaning against the wall, and the blinds over the windows were slanted at an angle. An enormous copier lurked in the corner. Periodically, harried clerks rushed by and glanced in, but otherwise she was left undisturbed.

The transcript was like a screenplay for a movie, except there were no italics saying, “The defendant leans back and rubs his eyes, his shoulders stooped.” Or “The accuser begins to sob uncontrollably, her hair falling in her face.” Instead, there were breaks in continuity. Questions stopped, and there was a blank half page, and when it resumed, it seemed something had happened—something wordless that the court stenographer did not put down on paper. And those details were what crowded Katie’s imagination. She saw her mother in her ugly blue suit, a blank expression on her face; she saw how she must have turned toward Katie’s father every now and then, making an effort to appear firm, unflustered. John sitting there, believing that this would all work itself out, that it had to work out because this girl Lulu Henderson was clearly troubled and jealous, and most important of all, she was lying.

Pages and pages of testimony; Katie flipped ahead. She would read everything her father had said and every word of Lulu’s testimony, but first she had to see if Grumpy had remembered things correctly or not.

Then she found it.

Q. Good afternoon. Could you please state your name for the court?

A. Yeah. It’s, my name is Jack.

Q. Jack . . . ?

A. Jack Benson.

Q. Can you tell us how you came to be at Eagle Lake Park that summer? Just some background so we understand.

A. My parents rented a house.

Q. To clarify, this was from July through to August of 2007, yes? Your parents rented a house at Eagle Lake Park, and you were there during those months?

A. That’s right.

Q. Okay, go on.

A. So they rented a place, and I spent a few weeks there, like, maybe four, five weeks total?

Q. Thank you. You knew the Gregory family well. Would you agree with that assessment?

A. I knew the kids well. I mean, I still know them.

Q. Katherine and David, right? You would say you were friends.

A. Yes, that’s right. David’s still just a kid, I mean— Q. The girl, Katherine, she’s your age.

A. Yes. And yeah, we were friends.

Q. And what about the victim—

THE COURT. Counselor, please.

PROSECUTOR. Sorry, Your Honor, my mistake.

Q. The alleged victim, what about the alleged victim? You were friends with her, too, Lulu Henderson.

A. Yeah, sure. We all hung out together.

Q. And before we get to the night in question, just tell the court about your relationship with the defendant. You interacted with him on a number of occasions, is that right?

A. Yes.

Q. Can you characterize your relationship?

A. I’m—sorry . . . I’m not really sure.

Q. You don’t understand the question?

A. I didn’t have a relationship with Mr. Gregory. I mean, I barely knew him except from seeing him around the clubhouse, you know?

Q. We don’t know. We need your clarification. The clubhouse? What is that?

DEFENSE. Relevance? Your Honor? Is any of this relevant?

THE COURT. I’ll allow it. But get to the point, counselor. It’s getting late.

PROSECUTOR. I’m establishing the setting. What happened prior to the rape. Excuse me, the alleged rape.

Q. Okay, son. Tell us what you mean by “the clubhouse.”

A. It’s a place where we met at night. During the day, too, actually. To play Ping-Pong, you know? Drink shakes and just hang out.

Q. And the defendant?

A. Oh, Mr. Gregory, yeah. He was there a lot, too, mostly weekends. There’s a bar area where the adults can have drinks. He was very active.

Q. Can you qualify what you mean by “very active”?

A. He was always there.

Q. Yes. Go on.

A. Uh, he was sort of a drinker, I guess.

Q. So this place, this clubhouse, drinks were served there? Beer and such? And Mr. Gregory was an enthusiastic participant, is that a correct characterization?

A. Yes, ma’am.

Q. Would you say he was often drunk?

DEFENSE. Your Honor! The kid was fifteen years old; how would he know?

A. Sixteen. I was sixteen.

She put the paper down on the desk. Really? The prosecutor didn’t know what she was talking about. Just because people drank at the clubhouse didn’t mean they were drunks.

THE COURT. Don’t interrupt, son. Ms. Sofigny will address you directly when she asks you a question. Okay, this is about establishing mood; I get it. Let’s move on. The facts are what we’re trying to get at here, counselor.

PROSECUTOR. Yes, Your Honor.

Q. Would you say that Mr. Gregory often appeared to have had a lot of alcohol when you encountered him at the clubhouse at night?