Capture (Butch Karp Thrillers) (30 page)

Karp walked over to the lectern to check his notes. After leafing through several pages, he turned back to the witness stand. “Miss Salinas, after this incident you continued to work for Mr. Maplethorpe in his play, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

Karp looked puzzled. “Considering what happened, why would you do that?”

Carmina shrugged. “I figured it was over. In the theater business you deal with some real freaks…”

There was an angry murmur as she looked over at the spectator section behind Maplethorpe. “Objection,” Leonard said. “The witness is labeling my client, who happens to enjoy an esteemed repu
tation as a citizen of this great city, a ‘freak’ in order to cast him in a bad light with the jury.”

“She was asked a question and is voicing her opinion,” Karp replied. “Free speech, especially in a court of law, is still allowed in this country. Why don’t we leave it to the jury to decide whether her opinion is valid?”

“Overruled, but let’s keep to the point, please.”

“As you were saying, Miss Salinas…” Karp encouraged.

“I was saying that as far as I was concerned, it was over. He’d played his weird little game of cowboy—maybe it’s a fantasy or something—but I wasn’t hurt or even that scared.”

“But Miss Salinas, weren’t you aware of the charges facing Mr. Maplethorpe regarding the death of Miss Gail Perez?”

Carmina nodded and looked at Alejandro. “But I was confused about what really happened. I figured that maybe he tried to have sex with her, but why would she kill herself over that and why would he kill her because she didn’t want to fuck him? Nothing made any sense.”

“Why didn’t you report this to the police?”

Carmina’s face blushed pink as she shrugged. “I wanted the job. It’s a good part, and
any
parts are tough to come by in this town. There’s a lot of beautiful, talented girls out there, and some of them will do whatever it takes to get those parts.”

“Including oral sex?” Karp asked.

“Yeah, and more,” Carmina agreed.

“Did Mr. Maplethorpe ever bring up the assault?”

“Once,” Carmina replied. “A few days later, he called me into his office at the theater and said that he hoped that I understood that he’d had a few too many drinks and was not himself. He’d meant the whole thing to come off as ‘funny’ but it didn’t work. He apologized. But then he said that if I wanted to give up my part in the musical, he’d understand, or he said we could just forget the whole thing.”

“And how did you take that last part?”

“He was telling me that if I said anything, I’d be fired.”

“And what was your response?”

“I said okay. You have to understand, being onstage was more important to me than some fruitcake making a pass at me. I just wanted to forget about that.”

“Did he mention it again?”

“Not in so many words,” Carmina replied. “But he kept saying that I should remember our ‘deal.’ And whenever he saw me standing around anyone, he’d talk about how he was going to make me a star someday.”

“Wasn’t there another reason you didn’t want to testify?”

Suddenly tears sprang into Carmina’s eyes and she grabbed a tissue to wipe at them. “Yeah. I told my boyfriend and my priest that I didn’t want to testify because I knew that if I did, I’d never work on Broadway again.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I’d be the actress who testified against a big-time producer,” she said quietly. “They’d say I had sex with him and was getting even because I didn’t get the part I wanted. Every other producer and director in this city will be thinking, ‘I wonder if she’ll say I raped her because she didn’t get a part.’ Theater people are a tight-knit community in some ways, and really vicious in others. I’d be the girl who turned on one of them, and a slut who put out and then accused someone when I didn’t get my way. There are a lot of dirty little secrets in the theater; the term ‘casting couch’ didn’t just appear out of thin air.”

“So the other reason you didn’t want to testify was because you believed your dream of being a Broadway actress would be over?” Karp said.

“Yes,” Carmina replied, her voice just barely audible. “It probably is now.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Yesterday I was replaced by another girl,” she replied. “The director said it was because I was missing my marks and I was off-key, but I know the real reason.”

“So why did you decide to testify?”

Karp gave Carmina a telling look. This was a dangerous moment. He’d been over it several times just that morning with Carmina.
“You cannot under any circumstances, unless the defense lawyer
brings it up first, mention or even hint at the assault by Gregor Capuchin. I will ask you why you decided to testify. I’m not going to put words in your mouth, but whatever you decide to say in response, do not talk about Capuchin or being attacked.”

Over at the defense table, Leonard tensed, hoping she would make a mistake, and readied to pounce when she did. He would leap to his feet and demand a mistrial and that Carmina’s testimony be stricken from the record. He would certainly have more grounds for an appeal if he lost the case.

Carmina bit her lip as she looked first at the jurors, then at Alejandro, and finally at Maplethorpe. “Because I needed to tell the truth.”

Karp, without showing his relief, faced Rosenmayer, stood firmly, and said, “I have no further questions.”

Leonard stood behind Maplethorpe, his hands on his client’s shoulders, as he gazed for a long moment at Carmina. Then he shook his head.

“Miss Salinas, if I remember correctly, you told Mr. Karp that you’d had three or four drinks that night before going to Mr. Maplethorpe’s apartment.”

“I believe I said two or three,” Carmina responded.

“I see, and what if I was to tell you that other witnesses will testify that it was more like five or six?”

“They would be mistaken.”

“I see,” Leonard repeated. “And however many drinks you had, it was more than you are used to…at least now that you’ve matured?”

“That’s correct.”

“Then wouldn’t it be possible that, perhaps, you might have forgotten how many drinks you had?”

Carmina shook her head. “No. I’ve thought about it a lot…I distinctly remember two—one when my boyfriend was there and another just after he left—and I think one more after that.”

“You think?”

“That’s what I think.”

“But you can’t remember the third drink distinctly?”

“I remember having another drink. I don’t remember exactly what time it was.”

“So your memory is vague?”

“In that regard, yes,” Carmina replied. “But I know it wasn’t more than three.”

“I see,” Leonard said again, in such a way as to clearly demonstrate that he didn’t believe her.

“So at some point, you agreed to accompany Mr. Maplethorpe to his apartment?”

“Yes, he said he was going to have a private party with some people after the cast party.”

“And you happened to be one of the people he invited?”

“Yes. He said the others were coming in a little bit.”

“I see.” Leonard moved out from behind the defense table and strolled in front of the jury with his hand stroking his chin, as though he was in deep thought. He stopped and faced Carmina. “Miss Salinas…how old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Twenty-three…so you’ve been around.”

Carmina’s eyebrows knit in a frown. “What do you mean by that?”

Leonard shrugged. “Just what I said…you’ve been around. I take it you’re not a virgin?”

Karp objected. “Miss Salinas’s sex life is not on trial here.”

“Your Honor,” Leonard countered. “There’s a question as to whether Mr. Maplethorpe attempted to sexually assault this woman by exposing himself and asking her to perform a sex act, or whether Miss Salinas’s actions could have been construed by my client as those of a willing participant.”

“I’ll allow the witness to answer the question,” Rosenmayer said. “But don’t linger here too long, Mr. Leonard.”

“I don’t intend to, Your Honor,” Leonard replied. “So answer the question, Miss Salinas. Are you a virgin?”

“No.”

“How many sexual partners have you had?”

Karp interrupted. “Wait a minute, what’s going on here? This is the same character assassination the defense has engaged in with respect to the deceased.”

“Overruled, I’ll allow it, Mr. Karp. But Mr. Leonard, are we about through here?”

“Just about. How many, Miss Salinas?”

Carmina looked at Karp but there was nothing he could do. “Three.”

“Three,” Leonard repeated, as if he’d just been told the moon was made of cheese. “As in two or three drinks, or three or four or five or six drinks?”

“Three.”

“And Miss Salinas, have you ever had sex with someone who you worked for in the theater?”

Carmina looked at Karp again, but he said nothing. She glanced at Alejandro, who sat looking down at the floor. She bit her lip and nodded. “I used to go out with the director of an off-Broadway play I was in.”

“I see. Did you start to have sex with him before or after you got the part?”

“It wasn’t like that,” she said. “I went to the audition and he called me up a couple of days later and asked me out.”

“Did you have the part yet?”

“The producer was still making his decision.”

“In other words, you started ‘dating’ the director before you got the part?”

“Yes. But that wasn’t the reason. Mike, the director, wasn’t in charge of casting.”

“I see. However, you then got the part?”

Carmina nodded. “Yes.”

Leonard turned away from Carmina and faced the jury. “Miss Salinas, you’ve been around,” he said, emphasizing the phrase again. “You’ve had sexual relations with a man who was essentially your boss and had great influence on your role in a play. What did you think was going to happen when Mr. Maplethorpe invited you to his apartment alone?”

“I didn’t know we were going to be alone.”

Leonard gave the jury a look like he was dealing with a recalcitrant child. “But no one went with you, correct?”

“Correct.”

“And there was no one else there when you arrived, correct?”

“Correct.”

“Then why didn’t you leave?”

Carmina shrugged. “I thought other people were coming.”

“Even after Mr. Maplethorpe allegedly tried to kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“So no one’s there, Mr. Maplethorpe makes a pass at you, and still no one arrives…but you stayed?”

“Yes.”

“And had another drink while Mr. Maplethorpe went to change his clothes?”

“Yes.”

“I see. And it didn’t strike you that he wanted to have sex with you?”

“I think he did. But I told him no and that was when he stopped.”

“Are you sure you asked him to stop?”

Carmina nodded. “Yes, I told him to stop.”

“You didn’t consider having sex with him in order to get a better role in the play?”

“No! That’s not true!”

“Then why didn’t you leave?”

“I told you! I thought it was settled—he apologized and I was going to let it go. He’d been drinking…it was no big deal.”

“No big deal,” Leonard repeated. “So you stayed and accepted another drink…was this number four or five?”

“It was number four,” Carmina replied. “I had three before we went to his apartment.”

“I see. And you were feeling a little tipsy…and you told Mr. Karp that you may have even passed out for a few minutes.”

“Yes.”

“And then you wake just as Mr. Maplethorpe comes down the stairs in a—and I quote—‘cowboy costume’?”

“Yes.”

“Even though he expected other guests to arrive at any moment?”

“That’s what he’d told me.”

“And what you believed.”

“I didn’t have any reason not to.”

“Not even after he made a pass at you…you still believed that other people were about to arrive?”

“Yes.”

“And he’s wearing this outlandish cowboy costume, including a pair of leather chaps with nothing on underneath?”

“Yes.”

“I see. And even though you’d already rejected one advance, which was simply to kiss you, he now allegedly stands in front of you and demands fellatio, or as you so eloquently put it, to ‘kiss my dick.’ Is that right?”

“That’s what he said.”

“I see. And of course, you refused to do this?”

“Yes. I tried to leave.”

“Ah, right, and he pushed you back down on the couch.”

“Yes.”

“And placed his hand on his gun?”

“Yes.”

“I see,” Leonard said. “Miss Salinas, did Mr. Maplethorpe actually threaten you with this gun?”

“He had his hand on it when he told me I couldn’t leave.”

“And you took that as a threat?”

“Wouldn’t you?”

Leonard shrugged. “I wasn’t there, Miss Salinas. I couldn’t say. The question is did you take this as a threat?”

“Yes.”

“So a man threatens you with a gun and demands that you perform oral sex…but you didn’t think this was something that should be reported to the police?”

“I…I didn’t think it was necessary,” Carmina replied. “And I wanted to keep my job.”

“I see. In your mind, a small role in a Broadway musical outweighs armed sexual assault?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“But it is, Miss Salinas. And yet this alleged crime doesn’t rate calling the police because having sex with an employer in order to get a role you want isn’t new to you, is it, Miss Salinas?”

“Objection, argumentative,” Karp said.

“Sustained,” Rosenmayer agreed. “Rephrase or move on, Counselor.”

“Miss Salinas, after this alleged incident, did you keep your role in the play?”

“Yes.”

“So Mr. Maplethorpe made no attempt to punish you for refusing to have sex with him.”

“No, he did not.”

“On the other hand, you didn’t get a better role than the one you already had, correct?”

“I kept the same role. It’s a good role.”

Leonard checked several items off his legal pad with great flourish. “Miss Salinas, in this story of yours, did Mr. Maplethorpe pull the gun out of the holster?”

“No.”

“Did he attempt to place the barrel of this gun in your mouth?”