Malicious Intent (13 page)

Mary sounded impressed. ‘That’s a very smart thing to do.

It also means you put up a good fight.’

Gloria seemed unfazed by the compliment.

‘May I swab your fingernails, and cut them too? That’s the best way to obtain this evidence. While we’re at it, I need to take some blood to distinguish between your DNA and your attackers’.’

Gloria Havelock nodded again and compliantly held out both hands.

After the venepuncture and nail collection, the examination was almost complete – except for the genital exam.

With rape victims often not having signs of genital trauma, and women involved in consensual intercourse likely to have abrasions, this part of the examination was of vital importance.

At this point, Anya always thought back to a young mother raped and murdered on the outskirts of London. Two other rape victims in the same area lived to tell their story. At the trial of the man identified by both surviving women and charged with the murder, Anya had testified as a forensic pathologist.

She’d been disturbed by the poor collection of evidence, particularly as the two other women had been examined by inexperienced practitioners. The man had subsequently been acquitted and, from that moment on, Anya had offered her services for clinical examinations of rape victims. As a member of what was now the Association of Forensic Physicians in the UK, examining surviving victims was how she had crossed over to forensic medicine. Her expertise in wounds meant she quickly became recognized as a leading authority on physical and sexual assault. A year later, her evidence helped convict the same man of another rape and murder.

Mary moved to the head of the bed to support Gloria.

After gently positioning her patient, Anya swabbed the vulva for semen and smeared the swab onto a slide before placing it into the labeled container. She chose the smallest possible 96

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speculum to examine the vagina and explained each step in the process.

‘It’s easier if you remember to breathe,’ Anya reminded Gloria. ‘Most people hold their breath and all the muscles tense. If you breathe deeply, it helps a lot. Please tell me, too, if you’re too uncomfortable. I’ll stop whenever you want me to.’

Gloria took a deep breath. ‘Do what you have to.’

Mary offered her hand and Gloria held it.

Inside the vagina, against the posterior wall, Anya saw a superficial tear about two centimeters long. ‘I’ve found the reason you’ve been bleeding. It’s a small tear, very shallow, and not likely to cause problems. They usually heal themselves in one or two days.’

Mary and Gloria sighed at the same time. Relieved by the findings, but more so, relieved that the examination was over.

Anya removed the speculum and pulled the blanket down to cover her patient’s legs. ‘You’re going to be very sore tomorrow from your bruises and injuries. I can give you some pain relief and a certificate for work. I’d like you to come back tomorrow and have that tear checked, just in case.’

‘I’d like to see how you’re doing, anyway,’ Mary said softly.

‘Have you thought about what you’ll tell your family?’

‘I’ll say I was mugged. That’s all they need to know.’ The battered woman sat up and, for the first time, her voice broke and her eyes filled with tears. ‘Promise me you won’t tell them anything about the . . . what really happened.’

‘We respect your decisions, Gloria, and we’re also bound by confidentiality,’ Anya reassured. ‘Now how about that shower?’

Gloria refused help with the shower and washed and scrubbed her hair and body in privacy. Within half an hour, she was clean and dressed in a new bra, underpants and a black tracksuit, the most popular choice for rape victims, who inevitably threw them away when they returned home. Most of her wounds were hidden, but there was little they could do about her face.

‘You still have at least forty-eight hours to decide whether KATHRYN FOX

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or not you consent to the samples going to the police. Mary can go through the process again with you after you’ve had some rest. You’ll also need to be checked again in a couple of weeks, to exclude infections. It’s too early for anything to show up yet, which is why we don’t test you for that today.’ Anya thought again of Fatima Deab’s herpes and hoped this poor woman wouldn’t suffer the added horror of having to explain to her husband how she’d caught herpes or some other sexually transmitted infection.

Mary said, ‘We can make a time. I’ll call you later today, if that’s okay.’

Gloria clutched Anya’s hand tightly. ‘Thank you for what you did. I’m sorry you had to do this.’

‘Gloria, my job is to look after you.’

She withdrew her hand and took a step toward the door, before looking back.

Anya lowered her eyes and silently wished she could make every bit of this woman’s pain disappear. The pain was one of loss. Great loss. It was like the look she’d seen on her own mother’s face for the last thirty years.

Mary unlocked the door and led Gloria out to the waiting area. Anya continued writing up the last of her notes in the booklet, and placed it and the labeled specimens in the sealed SAI kit. Finally, she secured the evidence in the forensic fridge and entered the date, time and Gloria’s name in the logbook.

Mary returned just as she finished. ‘I think we’re going to get on well, Anya. That was one of the gentlest and most thorough examinations I’ve seen. Whether or not she goes to the police, the respect you showed her will make a real difference to Gloria’s recovery.’

Anya gave a feeble smile and stretched her back in the chair.

‘Let’s hope she does go to the police. Those two aren’t going to rape just once.’ Anya rubbed her eyes. ‘With that degree of violence, it’s only a matter of time before they kill someone.’

‘That may be so, but it isn’t Gloria’s responsibility. She has to do what is right for her.’

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Anya found this part of the job the most frustrating. She believed that every man who committed this crime was a serial rapist. No one raped just once. It was part of a pattern of behavior, not an isolated incident, or ‘aberration.’ If more women agreed to make statements, the police would be better placed to make cases against the perpetrators. No longer would rapists serve sentences that lasted less time than the medical treatment and counseling of their victims. ‘I know that Gloria isn’t responsible for other victims, but what if she decides not to make a statement and more women suffer like she has, or worse?’

Mary scratched her thick head of wiry gray hair. ‘As difficult as that is to accept, we have to look after Gloria, and what’s in
her
best interest, not society’s, or other women’s. That’s our job.’

Anya nodded silently.

Four hours soon became five due to the debriefing process.

When they walked outside, the world had woken up. Hospital staff ambled from building to building; visitors sat on the grassy areas; students carried piles of textbooks in backpacks, oblivious to the horrors the darkness had brought.

‘I wondered where you’d got to this morning. The phones haven’t stopped since I opened up,’ Elaine said as Anya threw her bag on the kitchen table. ‘I assumed you’d been called out to something.’

‘If it’s Sperm Man, I don’t want to know.’

‘No! These were serious calls – work calls! The publicity you got over the Barker trial has been priceless.’ She referred to the Post-it notes in her hand. ‘Three lawyers want your opinion for their cases: one’s an assault, the other is a question of child abuse and the other was about a wrongful death. And Sabina Pryor from Legal Aid has called. Some reporter’s also been ringing about a rape case. And Anoub Deab has called twice. He seems very persistent.’

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Anya sat at the table and rubbed her eyes.

‘Actually, he’s very rude over the phone,’ the secretary continued. ‘Treats me like some kind of servant. I told him we’d let him know when your report had been completed but he still called back. Anyway, if you need to catch up on some sleep, the rest can wait.’ She handed her boss the final Post-it note. ‘Except Dan Brody. He would like to meet at five o’clock today in his chambers. It’s amazing. Business is finally taking off.’

Anya didn’t answer, distracted by thoughts of Gloria lying to her family to protect them.

Elaine sat on the other side of the table. ‘Rough night?’

‘You could say that. Call out to a sexual assault.’

‘How about a pot of tea? It always tastes better when someone else makes it.’

Anya felt a strange comfort having someone in her home right now. She watched Elaine grab a tin of Earl Grey from the cupboard and fill the teapot with hot water from the tap to warm the pot before the kettle boiled.

‘Would it help to talk about this one?’

Anya sighed. ‘One minute this woman’s life is fine. She’s working, taking care of the kids, doing what she always does, the way she always does it, not hurting anyone. She’s probably never hurt anyone in her life. Then out of the blue these two psychopaths pick
her
to rape, beat and leave for dead. They stole her purse, so they have her keys, bank account details, family snaps. They know where she lives, and their parting words were how they were off to rape her sleeping children, using her keys to enter the house. From now on, she’ll go through emotional torture every day and night, wondering when they’ll be back.

They didn’t just rape this woman – they raped her entire life.’

Elaine emptied the pot and dropped in three teaspoons of tea. ‘You can’t stop evil people doing evil things.’

‘Minimizing the damage is like plugging a sieve with tissue paper.’

‘What you do is so important. You’re the one who says how empowering women immediately after an attack helps them 100

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recover.’ Elaine filled the pot with boiling water and placed it on a trivet at the table.

‘There is one victim but a lot more people suffer from the crime.’ Anya turned the teapot three times, just like her grandmother always did. ‘The family, friends, almost every relationship. No one’s going to slap you on the back and say,

“Gee, that was a great exam of my private bits,” but if it’s done poorly, there’s no end to the damage it could do. I can only speak for Pap smears, but a bad one can make you feel like the doctor drove a forklift truck up there.’ Anya stared at the pattern on the china teapot. ‘That poor woman could have been –’

She stopped herself.

Elaine fiddled with the buttons on her shirt that pulled across her large bust. ‘Any one of us. Will she be all right?’

‘Physically, her wounds will heal.’

‘You did everything you could. God knows I couldn’t do what you do, but if anything positive can come of this, it’s that someone as experienced as you did the examination.’ Elaine sniffed and poured the tea. ‘You need a rest and a long, hot shower. If the reporters ring back, I’ll tell them you’re in court all day. Maybe they can e-mail their questions, to save you time.

The lawyers can send the info with a formal letter. That just leaves Dan Brody’s meeting.’

‘I’ll be fine by this afternoon. Give me a couple of hours and I’ll be back downstairs.’ Anya carried her cup down the corridor. ‘And I never do press interviews. Never.’

Elaine stopped her at the stairs. ‘I’m sure what you did helped that poor woman.’

‘How do you help someone whose soul was the scene of the crime?’

15

Dan Brody ushered Anya into his office. ‘Sorry to call you here so late in the afternoon.’

Arriving at the same time was a lawyer she had previously met.

‘Grant, good to see you. How’s that little girl of yours?’

Brody inquired, a master at feigning interest.

Every one of Grant Bourne’s freckles glowed with pride.

‘Five months yesterday and doing all the right things.’

‘Excellent. Do you remember Dr. Crichton?’

Anya remembered Grant Bourne, the melanoma waiting to happen. He’d be the pin-up boy for Skin Cancer Awareness with his red hair and almost alabaster skin. Out of habit, she looked at his hands and face for any malignant lesions. He noticed and cleared his throat.

‘Certainly do, hello, Doctor.’

‘Both of you, have a seat. On Friday afternoon, Mohammed Deab was arrested and charged with attempted murder, or more accurately, grievous bodily harm with intent to commit murder. That’s where medical advice comes in.’

He handed Anya the police and emergency reports. ‘This one’s on Mohammed’s bill.’

Grant proceeded, ‘The victim of the alleged assault was a 102

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nineteen-year-old Maltese boy from Merrylands. George Galea. He had often inquired about Fatima at her place of work.’ He opened his brown leather satchel and pulled out a legal pad, along with a large chocolate-chip muffin.

Brody stared at the food. Grant didn’t seem to notice and took a bite, dropping crumbs on his lap. Brody plucked a handful of tissues from the box on his desk and passed them across the table. The lawyer placed them next to his notes beneath the muffin and larger crumbs.

‘If he pleads guilty, I plan to argue malicious wounding with intent to commit grievous bodily harm,’ Brody announced. ‘It’s more likely to attract a lesser sentence. And there are mitigating circumstances. Deab was pushed to the brink by Galea, who we’re fairly sure had sex with his daughter. The adolescent had destroyed Fatima’s life, the family’s hopes and any dreams of grandchildren.’

‘Problem is, this isn’t his first offense.’ Grant handed out a detailed list, outlining all the offenses for which Deab had been charged, convicted and acquitted. ‘Charges range from drunk-driving, speeding, and rebirthing stolen cars, to assault and grievous bodily harm. Four charges of assault were dropped when witnesses either failed to appear or came down with a debilitating case of amnesia. He was up for losing his license twice, but his wife signed statutory declarations saying she was the driver for each speeding offense.’

Anya shook her head. ‘In other words, she had her license canceled instead of him.’ She wondered what life lessons he’d passed to his children, in particular, to Anoub.