The Associate by John Grisham Read Free Book Online

music and the television as a backdrop, and though the den of their apartment was dark, figures could be seen in the shadows. Baxter Tate finally got off the sofa, stood, appeared to be completely nude, and walked away. Another figure, Joey Bernardo, quickly took Baxter's place. Some of the sounds could barely be heard.
A steady clicking arose from the scene. “We think that's the sofa,” Wright said. “Don't suppose you could help on that one?”
“No.”
And before long there was a high-pitched heaving sound, and the clicking stopped. Joey moved from the sofa and disappeared. “That's pretty much the end of the movie,” Wright said. “The video goes on for another twelve minutes, but nothing happens. If the girl, Elaine, ever moved or got off the sofa, then it's not on the video. We're almost certain that Baxter Tate and Joey Bernardo had sex with her. There's no evidence that either you or Alan Strock did.”
“I did not. I can assure you of that.”
“Any idea where you were during the rapes, Kyle?” Wright asked the question, then pressed a key and the screen went blank.
“I'm sure you have a theory.”
“Okay.” Wright was again armed with his pen and legal pad. “Elaine says she woke up several hours later, around three in the morning, naked, still on the sofa, and suddenly had a vague recollection of being raped. She panicked, wasn't sure where she was, admits she was still very drunk, eventually finds her clothes, gets dressed, sees you fast asleep in a recliner facing the television. When she sees you, she realizes where she is and remembers more of what happened to her. There's no sign of Strock, Tate, or Bernardo. She speaks to you, shakes your shoulder, but you do not respond, so she hurries from the apartment, goes next door, and eventually falls asleep.”
“And doesn't mention rape for four days, right, Detective, or has she changed her story again?”
“Four days is correct.”
“Thank you. Not a word to anyone for four days. Not to her roommates, her friends, parents, no one. Then suddenly she decided she was raped. The police were very suspicious of her story, right? They finally showed up at our apartment, and at the Beta house, and they asked questions and got very few answers. Why? Because there was no rape. Everything was consensual. Believe me, Detective, that girl would consent to anything.”
“How could she consent if she was unconscious, Kyle?”
“If she was unconscious, how could she remember being raped? There was no medical exam. No rape kit. No evidence whatsoever. Just the blacked-out memory of a very confused young woman. The cops dropped the case five years ago, and it should be dropped now.”
“But it's not. It's here. The grand jury believed the video proves there was a rape.”
“That's bullshit and you know it. This isn't about rape; this is about money. Baxter Tate's family is filthy rich. Elaine has found herself a greedy lawyer. The indictment is nothing but a shakedown.”
“So you're willing to risk the spectacle of a trial, and a conviction? You want the jury to see that video? You and your three roomies drunk out of your minds while a young woman is taken advantage of?”
“I didn't touch her.”
“No, but you were there, very close by, less than ten feet away. Come on.”
“I don't remember it.”
“How convenient.”
Kyle slowly got to his feet and walked to the bathroom. He filled another plastic cup with tap water, drained it, refilled it, and drank it. Then he sat on the edge of the bed and buried his head in his hands. No, he did not want the jury to see the video. He had just seen it for the first time and prayed it would be the last. He had a visual of himself and his three pals sitting in a crowded courtroom, lights dimmed, judge frowning, jurors gaping, Elaine crying, his parents stoic in the front row as the video is played to a rapt audience. The scene made him sick.
He felt innocent, but he wasn't convinced the jurors would agree.
Wright