the Third Twin (1996)

Earlier he had seen the woman detective, Sergeant Delaware. Now the other one, the man, came in, also carrying a blue folder. He was Steve’s height but much broader and heavier, with iron gray hair cut short and a bristling mustache. He sat down and took out a pack of cigarettes. Without speaking, he tapped out a cigarette, lit it, and dropped the match in the ashtray. Then he opened the folder. Inside was yet another form. This one was headed

DISTRICT COURT OF MARYLAND

FOR (City/County)

The top half was divided into two columns headed COMPLAINANT and DEFENDANT. A little lower down it said

STATEMENT OF CHARGES

The detective began to fill out the form, still without speaking. When he had written a few words he lifted the white top sheet and checked each of four attached carbon copies: green, yellow, pink, and tan.

Reading upside down, Steve saw that the victim’s name was Lisa Margaret Hoxton. “What’s she like?” he said.

The detective looked at him. “Shut the fuck up,” he said. He drew on his cigarette and continued writing.

Steve felt demeaned. The man was abusing him and he was powerless to do anything about it. It was another stage in the process of humiliating him, making him feel insignificant and helpless. You bastard, he thought, I’d like to meet you outside of this building, without your damn gun.

The detective began filling in the charges. In box number one he wrote Sunday’s date, then “at Jones Falls University gymnasium, Balto., MD.” Below he wrote, “Rape, 1st degree.” In the next box he put the place and date again, then “Assault with intent to rape.”

He picked up a continuation sheet and added two more charges: “Battery” and “Sodomy.”

“Sodomy?” Steve said in surprise.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Steve was ready to punch him out. This is deliberate, he told himself. The guy wants to provoke me. If I throw a punch at him, he has an excuse to call three other guys in here to hold me down while he kicks the shit out of me. Don’t do it, don’t do it.

When he finished writing, the detective turned the two forms around and pushed them across the table at Steve. “You’re in bad trouble, Steve. You’ve beaten and raped and sodomized a girl—”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Steve bit his lip and remained silent.

“You’re scum. You’re shit. Decent people don’t even want to be in the same room as you. You’ve beaten and raped and sodomized a girl. I know it’s not the first time. You’ve been doing it awhile. You’re sly, and you plan, and you’ve always got away with it in the past. But this time you’ve been caught. Your victim has identified you. Other witnesses place you near the scene at the time. In an hour or so, just as soon as Sergeant Delaware has gotten a search or seizure warrant from the court commissioner on duty, we’re going to take you over to Mercy Hospital and do a blood test and comb through your pubic hair and show that your DNA matches what we found in the victim’s vagina.”

“How long does that take—the DNA test?”

“Shut the fuck up. You’re nailed, Steve. Do you know what’s going to happen to you?”

Steve said nothing.

“The penalty for first-degree rape is life imprisonment. You’re going to jail, and you know what’s going to happen there? You’re going to get a taste of what you’ve been dishing out. A good-looking youngster like you? No problem. You’re going to be beaten and raped and sodomized. You’re going to find out how Lisa felt. Only in your case it will go on for years and years and years.”

He paused, picked up the cigarette packet, and offered it to Steve.

Surprised, Steve shook his head.

“By the way, I’m Detective Brian Allaston.” He lit a cigarette. “I really don’t know why I’m telling you this, but there is a way you can make it better for yourself.”

Steve frowned, curious. What was coming now?

Detective Allaston got up, walked around the table, and sat on its edge, with one foot on the floor, intimately close to Steve. He leaned forward and spoke in a softer voice. “Let me lay it out for you. Rape is vaginal intercourse, using force or the threat of force, against the will or without the consent of the woman. For it to be first-degree rape, there has to be an aggravating factor such as kidnapping, disfigurement, or rape by two or more persons. The penalties for second-degree rape are lower. Now, if you can persuade me that what you did was only second degree, you could do yourself a great big favor.”

Steve said nothing.

“Do you want to tell me how it happened?”

At last Steve spoke. “Shut the fuck up,” he said.

Allaston moved very fast. He came off the table, grabbed Steve by the front of his shirt, lifted him out of the chair, and slammed him against the cinder-block wall. Steve’s head jerked back and hit the wall with a painful bang.