"Not exactly. Obviously, since I haven't talked with him, I don't know exactly what he saw and heard. But no, he was not in the room when the sexual assault occurred."
"So what do you need him for?"
"He actually is part of the forcible compulsion, Judge. The treatment of the boy by his father that very evening is one of the reasons Ms. Vallis submitted to Mr. Tripping's sexual demands."
Peter Robelon read the puzzled expression on Moffett's face and took advantage of the judge's skepticism to knock my position. "That one is really a stretch for the prosecution."
Moffett decided this was the moment to give me some paternal advice. "I know you like to be creative, dear, but this is a novel application of the law, isn't it?"
"Ms. Vallis had never met Dulles Tripping before the point in the evening when she entered the defendant's apartment. The boy was invited into the living room. His father directed him to sit on a chair in the corner and be drilled on a series of questions. There was a discussion about a pistol, a reference to the pistol actually being in the apartment. And there was talk of what the punishment would be if Dulles answered incorrectly. One of his eyes was swollen shut and badly discolored. There were bruises on the child's forearm and-"
Robelon was on his feet. "We're getting ahead of ourselves here, aren't we?"
"Ms. Vallis was not going to leave," I continued, "unless or until she could take the boy with her and find out what had happened to him."
"So why didn't she just stay up and watch TV all night? Who said she had to go to bed with my client? If that's all Ms. Cooper has to-"
"I've got more than that, as you're well aware." Not a lot more, but Paige Vallis was a good witness, with a harrowing story to tell.
Moffett scratched his head. "What's this kid gonna say?"
"Quite honestly, I don't know what he's going to say at this point, Judge. That's why I want the opportunity to speak with him. We've been at a terrible disadvantage in this matter."
"Ms. Taggart," the judge asked, "are you familiar with what caused the remand of the child to your facility back in March?"
"After Mr. Tripping's arrest and incarceration, sir, there were no living relatives to care for Dulles. There was a complete physical and psychological workup ordered, and the findings made it clear to the family court judge that even when the father was released, no one would authorize an immediate return to his custody."
"There was an Article Ten proceeding," I explained, "on neglect and abuse. Every eighteen months there's to be a hearing held about the continued care of the child."
"Have you got all the institutional records, Ms. Cooper?" Moffett shifted his attention to me.
"No, sir. Only the meds from Bellevue, the morning Ms. Vallis reported the crime."
"You two," he said, waving at Taggart and Irizarry. "Why can't you give the district attorney all your reports? She's got a job to do."
Taggart pursed her lips. "We've got serious concerns about the confidentiality of the material here. The foster parents don't want to be identified, nor do we want to reveal the location of the child, for his own security."
"So we redact the papers. Take out specific names and locations." Taggart and Irizarry huddled with each other to think of a response to the court's suggestion.
Tripping was agitated now. He was writing furiously on a legal pad, sticking his notes under Robelon's nose.
"Are you at least prepared to discuss the psychological findings, so I can make a decision here?"
Taggart nodded to Moffett as she answered. "I'll let Dr. Huang do that."
I rose to my feet. "Your Honor, I'd like the witness to take the stand so that we might do this under oath. I'd like to question Dr. Huang myself."
"Sit down, Ms. Cooper. I can handle this."
"Most respectfully, Judge Moffett, I'm more familiar with some of the history here and might be better able to direct the cross-"
He glared at me and I took my seat. "Don't test me, Ms. Cooper. I still got some tricks up the big black sleeves of this robe. I didn't get here just on my good looks."
The heavy old door creaked open behind me and I turned to see who had entered. Two men, suited like bookends, walked in shoulder to shoulder and sat in the last row of benches on the bride's side, behind me. If Saturday Night Live was doing a spoof of spooks, they would have cast this pair. Dark glasses in a dim courtroom on an overcast day, government-issue suits with drab patterned ties, and haircuts from the local PX.
I focused back on the witness. Huang stated her credentials and gave the background of Dulles's history, from his mother's death shortly after he was born, to his grandmother's care, to his placement with his father after her loss.
"It was my recommendation that there be no visits, no contact, between Mr. Tripping and his son. There is a strong bond between them, but it is a pathological one. Dulles is worried about losing his relationship with his father"-she stopped speaking and glanced over at the defendant-"but he is even more fearful of retribution."
Tripping was talking in Peter Robelon's ear, while Frith tried to ease him away so Robelon could follow the proceedings. Tripping had no use for Emily Frith, aware that she was just seated at the defense table for decoration.
Robelon interrupted Huang's narrative, fumbling through his notes. "And your colleague, I think it's a Ms. Plass, her view was entirely opposed to yours. Her opinion was that it would be good to arrange visitation between the two because this child adores his father and will eventually be given trial visitation opportunities with him at the conclusion of these proceedings."
"You'll get your chance, Mr. Robelon," Moffett said. "I want to hear what Dr. Huang has to say. Has there been any regular contact at all?"
"By telephone, sir. That was the compromise we reached."
"Monitored?"
"No, sir. But there were rules. Mr. Tripping was forbidden to discuss the allegations before this court, or anything to do with the criminal proceedings. And brief meetings. There were two meetings which I conducted at the hospital."
Now I was as agitated as the defendant. " What?When did this occur? There has been an order of protection in place since Mr. Tripping's arraignment. There was to be no contact with the child. I'm not even blaming the defendant for the violation-I have to find out here in court that it's two professional agencies that are responsible? Your Honor, it would appear that everyone except for me has had the opportunity to talk with this child. What more do you need to hear?"
Huang was nervous, biting her lower lip as she ran her fingers across the top page of her records, looking for dates.
"Were you aware of the order of protection?"
"Yes, sir. The family court judge said she was overriding it. In the best interests of the boy." Huang gestured toward Ms. Taggart. "The lawyers told me to arrange the meetings."
Put that in the category of "nice to know."
"When were they held?" Moffett asked.
"I'm trying to find you an exact time. The first one was early on, when the defendant was still incarcerated. I remember that clearly. The second one was midsummer, before I left for my vacation in August."
There must be one enormous stretch of beach on the Atlantic coast where every psychiatrist and psychologist in New York disappear for the month of August, hoping the city's supply of anti-depressants and mood elevators will hold all the patients at bay.
"How'd they go, these meetings?" Moffett asked.
"Perhaps you can understand my reluctance to respond to you, Judge. My conversations with the child are privileged in nature. If I betray that confidence to the court, especially in the presence of the father, I'm not certain I'll be able to get Dulles to speak with me again."
"Well, was there any discussion of these criminal charges in your presence?"
"No, sir. Not these charges." She spoke with hesitation. "But others. That's why I terminated the conversation."