Выбрать главу

don't look like they could possibly exist in the United States.  Last

year, police went to an apartment on a noise complaint and found nine

children alone in a one-bedroom apartment.  They all slept on the same

bare, stained mattress on the bedroom floor.  The carpets were soaked

with cat urine and feces.  The kids had been alone for a week and were

living off of dry cat food and some candy bars that the oldest child,

an eight-year-old boy, had been given to sell for the school choir.

Their mothers, two sisters in their early twenties, had left on a meth

hinge.  As they later told police, they lost track of time and never

meant to leave their kids alone.  It turned out that maternal neglect

was the least of the kids' problems.  By the time the investigation was

over, police learned that all of the children had been sexually

assaulted.  Their mothers had accepted drugs and money in exchange for

permitting various men to take the children of their choice into the

apartment's bedroom alone.

From what I'd heard about Kendra Martin's troubles and her mother's

parenting style, I had expected their house to be a hellhole.  I had

jumped to the wrong conclusion.  The house was cleaner than my own and

reflected the efforts of someone trying to do her best without much to

work with.  A crisp clean swath of blue cotton was draped over what I

suspected was an old and tattered sofa.  In the corner, a thirteen-inch

television sat on a wooden tray table.  In a move that Martha Stewart

would envy, someone had made a lamp base out of an old milk jug.

"Kendra, I don't want to tell you things you already know, so let me

start by asking you whether you have any questions about what a DA

does."

"Not really."

"What do you think my job is?"

"You're kind of my lawyer, right?"

"Well, technically my client is the State.  But in this case, my goal

is to help prove who did this to you and then convince the court to put

them in prison for a long time.  When we do go to court, I'll be the

one who asks you most of the questions.  So in some ways it will be

like I'm your lawyer.  Have you ever testified before?"

"No.  I got in some trouble after Christmas."  She looked at Chuck.

"She knows about that, right?"

"Yes, I know you were arrested on Christmas."

"Well, I went to juvie on that, but no charges were filed so I didn't

have to talk or anything."

"You're going to need to testify this Friday, but you don't need to

worry about that.  Friday's going to be in front of a grand jury: it'll

just be me, you, and seven jurors.  The man the police arrested won't

be there, and there's no defense attorney or judge.  I'll ask you

questions, and the grand jurors will listen to your answers.  Then

they'll decide whether to charge him.  Assuming he's charged, there

might be a trial later on, and that's more like what you see on TV.

Does that sound OK?"

"I guess."

"How are you feeling?"  I asked.

"Not so good."

"You staying clean?"

"Yeah, so far.  I didn't really think it would be this hard, though."

I could tell she was having problems.  She wasn't as bad off as older

addicts I've seen withdrawing in custody, but it wasn't going to be

easy for her.  I suspected the only reason she wasn't out using again

was that she didn't have any money and was scared shitless to hit the

street again.

"Is it alright if we talk about what happened?"

"I guess so.  Is it OK if I go ahead and eat?"

I hadn't noticed she'd been holding off.  "Go for it."

She opened the box tentatively and ate the fries one by one, taking

small bites and chewing slowly.

"Had you ever seen either of these men before?"

"Unh-unh."

"So you don't think they were ever customers of yours or knew you from

somewhere before?"

"I don't know where they'd know me from.  They didn't look familiar or

anything like that."

I couldn't tell if she was avoiding my question about prior customers

or if she believed she'd already answered it.

"So, you're sure they weren't customers?"

"Yeah.  I'm pretty sure I would've recognized 'em if they were.  I

haven't done it that many times."

Poor girl.  She probably justified what she did by telling herself that

she wasn't really a prostitute if she didn't do it often and stopped

before she was older.

"Was there anyone else around when they were talking to you or when you

got pulled into the car?"

"No.  When they stopped the car, I looked around to make sure no one

was watching before I started talking to them.  I didn't want to get

caught again after what happened on Christmas.  I think there might've

been one homeless guy sitting on the corner, but he looked really out

of it."

I looked over at Chuck.  "We canvassed the area and didn't find any

witnesses," he said.  "We found a guy who usually sleeps on that

corner, but he didn't see anything."

"Kendra, the police have already told me what they know about what

happened.  But, if it's alright with you, I'd like you to tell me in

your own words.  I need you to be completely honest with me, even

though parts of it might be embarrassing.  No one here is going to be

mad at you or get you in trouble for anything you say."

She started from the beginning and told me everything.  I never needed

to prompt her, and she continued talking even when she was clearly very

upset about what happened.  Her statement was consistent with what she

told Walker and Johnson the night of the assault.  She would make a

great

GO

witness, but unfortunately she did not reveal anything I didn't already

know.  I'd been hoping for some new avenue of investigation.

I told her I understood why she initially kept some information from

Detectives Walker and Johnson at the hospital, but that I'd be asking

her to explain it to the grand jurors.

"I don't even remember much about when they first came into the room.

Whatever that doctor gave me had me feeling really sick.  I just

remember being mad."

"What do you remember telling them?"

"Well, I said I was on Burnside to go to Powell's.  You know the real

reason I was there.  I just didn't want to tell them, is all.  It's

embarrassing, and I could get in trouble for it."

"Do you remember telling them you didn't know how heroin got in your

system?"

"Not really, but then later on, when they came back with that lawyer

guy, he told me he knew I'd lied about it.  So I figured I must've said

it.  I didn't want to get in trouble, is all."