“Anywhere I can talk to Miss Hollings privately?” she asked Hawes.
“Interrogation Room’s down the hall,” Hawes said. “I’ll show you.”
“Would you like some coffee, Miss Hollings?” Annie asked.
Mary shook her head. They both followed Hawes through the slatted rail divider and into the corridor outside. Hester hung around as if hoping either Kling or Carella would offer her some coffee, too. When neither of them did, she left.
In the Interrogation Room, Annie gently said, “I’ll need some routine information first, if you don’t mind.”
Mary Hollings said nothing.
“May I have your full name, please?”
“Mary Hollings.”
“No middle name?”
Mary shook her head.
“Your address, please?”
“1840 Laramie Crescent.”
“Apartment number?”
“12C.”
“Your age, please?”
“Thirty-seven.”
“Single? Married? Divorced?”
“Divorced.”
“Your height, please?”
“Five-seven.”
“Weight?”
“A hundred and twenty-four.”
Annie looked up.
“Red hair,” she said, jotting it down on the report form, “eyes blue.” She put an X in the White box on the form, scanned the rest of the sheet perfunctorily, and then looked up again. “Can you tell me what happened, Miss Hollings?”
“The same man,” Mary said.
“What?” Annie said.
“The same man. The same one as the other two times.”
Annie looked at her.
“This is the third time you’ve been raped?” she asked, surprised.
Mary nodded.
“And it was the same man each time?”
Mary nodded again.
“You recognized him as the same man?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know this man?”
“No.”
“But you’re sure he was the same man?”
“Yes.”
“Can you give me a description of him?” Annie said, and took a pad from her pocket.
“I did this already,” Mary said. “Twice.”
Anger was beginning to set in. Annie recognized the anger, she had seen it a hundred times before. First the shock tinted with lingering fear, and then the anger. Compounded now because this had happened to Mary Hollings twice before.
“I can get a description from the files then,” Annie said. “Were the last two occurrences in this precinct?”
“Yes, in this precinct.”
“Then I won’t bother you for a description again, I’m sure the files...”
“Yes,” Mary said.
“Would you like to tell me what happened?” she asked.
Mary said nothing.
“Miss Hollings?”
She still said nothing.
“I’d like to help you,” Annie said gently.
Mary nodded.
“Can you tell me where and when this happened?”
“In my apartment,” Mary said.
“He came into your apartment?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know how he got in?”
“No.”
“Was the door locked?”
“Yes.”
“Is there a fire escape?”
“Yes.”
“Could he have come in through the fire escape window?”
“I don’t know how he got in. I was asleep.”
“And this was at 1840 Laramie Crescent, apartment 12C?”
“Yes.”
“Is there a doorman there?”
“No.”
“Any other form of security?”
“No.”
“Did he take anything from the apartment?”
“No.” Mary paused. “He was after me.”
“You say you were asleep...”
“Yes.”
“Can you tell me what you were wearing?”
“What difference does that make?”
“We’ll need the clothes you were wearing when he...”
“I was wearing a long granny nightgown and panties.” She paused. “Ever since the first time, I... I wear panties to bed.”
“The first two occurrences... did they also happen in your apartment?”
“No. On the street.”
“Then this is the first time he’s been to your apartment?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re sure he’s the same man?”
“I’m sure.”
“Could we have the panties and nightgown you were wearing? The lab will want to...”
“I have the panties on.”
“Now, do you mean?”
“Yes.”
“The same ones you were wearing when he attacked you?”
“Yes. I just... I threw on a dress... I put on my shoes...”
“When was this?”
“As soon as he left.”
“Can you tell me what time that was?”
“Just before I called the police.”
“Yes, and what time was that, Miss Hollings?”
“A little before seven o’clock.”
“What time did he come into the apartment, would you remember?”
“It must have been a little after five.”
“Then he was with you almost two hours.”
“Yes.” She nodded. “Yes.”
“When were you first aware of his presence, Miss Hollings?”
“I heard a noise, I opened my eyes... and he was there. He was on me before I could...”
She closed her eyes. She shook her head.
Annie knew that the next questions she asked would be difficult ones, she knew that most victims bridled at these questions. But the new state Penal Law defined first-degree rape as “Being a male engaging in sexual intercourse with a female: 1. By forcible compulsion, OR 2. Who is incapable of consent by reason of being physically helpless, OR 3. Who is less than eleven years old,” and the questions had to be asked.
The new definition was in no way an improvement over the old one, which previously defined a rapist as “A person who perpetrates an act of sexual intercourse with a female not his wife, against her will or without her consent.” Both the old and the new laws made it perfectly okay to rape your own wife, since a related provision of the new law defined “female” as “any female person who is not married to the actor.” The old law had specified “When her resistance is forcibly overcome, or when her resistance is prevented by fear of great bodily harm, which she has reasonable cause to believe will be inflicted upon her.” A related provision of the new law defined “forcible compulsion” as “physical force that overcomes earnest resistance; or a threat, express or implied, that places a person in fear of immediate death or serious physical injury.” In either law, the burden of proof fell upon the victim. Meanwhile, close to 78,000 rapes were reported committed in this nation last year, and hardworking detectives like Annie Rawles had to ask hard questions of women who’d just been violated.
She took a deep breath.
“When you say he was ‘on’ you...”
“He was on the bed, he was on top of me.”
“Lying on top of you, do you mean?”
“No. S-s-straddling me.”
“You heard a noise that awakened you...”
“Yes.”
“...and found him on top of you, straddling you.”
“Yes.”
“What did you do?”
“I reached... I tried to reach... for the n-n-night table. I have a gun in the drawer of my night table, I tried to g-g-get to it.”
“Do you have a permit for the gun?”
“Yes.”
“You tried to get the gun...”
“Yes. But he grabbed my wrist.”
“Which wrist?”
“The right wrist.”
“Was your left hand free?”
“Yes.”