CHAPTER SIX
Rex Kellerman’s secretary led Doug Armstrong to the assistant district attorney’s office. Kellerman was reading a case when Doug walked in.
“Have a seat,” Kellerman said without bothering to look up.
Doug sat down and waited patiently. Kellerman always treated Doug with disdain, and Doug had dreaded the meeting. After three minutes of the silent treatment, he started to get angry, but he suppressed his emotions. He was hoping to get a decent plea offer in Blaine Hastings’s case, and he didn’t want to antagonize the man who could make it.
Finally, Kellerman looked up from his laptop. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Doug?”
“Blaine Hastings.”
Doug waited for Kellerman to say something, but he just leaned back in his chair.
“I was hoping we could discuss the case,” Doug continued, trying not to seem too anxious.
“What’s to discuss?” Kellerman asked. “Your guy is guilty as sin, and I’m going to see he spends a long time down at OSP.”
“Come on, Rex. He’s a kid, an honor student, and a top athlete. And he says he didn’t rape Miss Stark.”
Kellerman shrugged. “She says he did, and we have DNA test results that back her up.”
“Yeah, but the DNA just means they had sex. The allegation of force is uncorroborated.”
“How does he explain the ripped panties, Doug?”
“This will ruin Blaine’s life. He’s planning on going to medical school or the pros. We should be able to work something out. He’s never been in trouble over something like this before.”
Kellerman raised an eyebrow and flashed a smug smile. “Really, Doug. Is that what Mr. Hastings said? Julie Angstrom says he should have been. Has your client mentioned her? She sure remembers him.”
Kellerman fished through a file that was sitting on his desk. After a moment, he grabbed a police report and handed it to Doug.
“We found this old complaint two days ago. I sent Carrie Anders over to talk to Julie. You’ll get Anders’s report as soon as she writes it up.”
Doug didn’t want Kellerman to know that he knew about Angstrom, so he kept his head down as he read Angstrom’s account of the rape in Forest Park.
“I’ll ask Blaine about this.”
“I wonder if he’ll remember what happened as well as Julie does.”
“I don’t think you can get this testimony into evidence.”
“Maybe, maybe not. I’ll certainly try. Not that I need it.”
“This happened years ago, and there were never any charges.”
“If it did happen, doesn’t it make you wonder what your boy’s been up to in the intervening years?”
“I’m guessing you don’t have anything else like this or I’d have gotten the reports in discovery. And this case still boils down to Stark’s word against Blaine’s. I don’t see your case being that strong. Is there some way to settle it out of court?”
“Sure. Have Mr. Hastings plead guilty to the charges. You can ask the Court for mercy. If he gets it, it will be more than he showed Randi Stark.”
Kellerman waited until the door closed before breaking into a grin. The Hastings case would be a walk in the park with Doug Armstrong as his adversary. With a good lawyer, he’d have to work for a guilty verdict, but Armstrong was second-rate.
Kellerman took a moment to think about what a win in Hastings would do for his career. It was common knowledge that Paul Getty, the Multnomah County district attorney, was not going to run for another term. Vanessa Cole, the chief criminal deputy, was rumored to be a candidate, but Rex thought he could beat her at the polls. A few headlines trumpeting victories in big cases would certainly help, and prosecuting a privileged brat like Blaine Hastings would score a lot of points with blue-collar voters.
Kellerman’s smile widened. Life was good.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Robin had spent the past two days sitting in on Blaine Hastings’s trial. It had been a disaster for the defendant, which was great for her client. Maxine Stark made certain that everyone who had a connection to the internet knew that her daughter had been raped by a star athlete who was a child of privilege. To get into the Multnomah County Courthouse, Robin was forced to fight her way through pickets from feminist organizations who were parading outside, demanding Blaine Hastings’s head.
The judge had ruled that Julie Angstrom could not testify, but that hadn’t mattered. The testimony of the expert from the police crime lab had been devastating. She’d told the jury that the DNA in the semen sample that had been found inside Randi Stark matched Blaine Hastings’s DNA. All the jurors watched crime shows on television, and they knew that a DNA match was infallible proof of guilt.
Annie Roche had been the last witness for the prosecution that afternoon. She was a short, heavyset brunette with a pug nose and wide brown eyes, who had dressed conservatively in a white, long-sleeve blouse and ankle-length dress.
Rex Kellerman established that Roche was working in a nail salon and checking in a grocery store to pay for community college and planned to become a physical therapist. Robin thought that Roche was very nervous when the DA’s direct examination started but had calmed down when Kellerman was through with his preliminary questions.
“Miss Roche, did you attend a Portland State–Oregon football game in late September?” Kellerman asked.
“Yes.”
“After the game, did you talk to some PSU students who had attended high school with you?”
“Yes.”
“Did you learn about a fraternity party that was going to be held that night?”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell Randi Stark about the party?”
“Yes.”
“And did you and Randi go to the party?”
“We did.”
“Was the defendant at the party?”
“Yes.”
“Tell the jury what you saw happening between your friend Randi Stark and the defendant.”
“The defendant,” Roche said, referring to Blaine Hastings the way she had been instructed to by Rex Kellerman, “was talking to another boy in a group of people we knew. At some point, I noticed Randi talking to him. Later, I saw them dancing.”
“Did they stop dancing?”
“Yes.”
“What happened after they stopped?”
“I saw the defendant lead Randi down a hall.”
“What did you do?”
“I followed them.”
“Why?”
“I was worried about Randi being alone with the defendant.”
“Why?”
“He had a bad reputation in school. He did things to girls.”
“Objection!” Doug Armstrong said.
“Sustained. Jurors, you will ignore that last comment.”
“What happened next?”
“The defendant and Randi went into a room at the end of the hall, and I waited outside. It was quiet for a short time. Then Randi screamed, ‘Get off me.’”
“What did you do when you heard the scream?”
“I opened the door.”
“What did you see?”
“Randi was on the bed. Her panties were on the floor.…”
“Did you get a chance to see the panties up close?”
“Yes, when I picked them up.”
“What was their condition?”
“They’d been torn like someone had ripped them off her.”
“Go on.”
“So, Randi was on the bed. She was crying and pushing against the defendant, who was on top of her.”
“Was there anything unusual about the defendant?”
Roche blushed and looked down. “His… his penis was exposed.”
“It was out of his pants?”