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"She became quite curt with me, yes. And I'd say, sarcastic."
She was aware that Andrea Stone across the aisle was glancing at Owen Sansom. Her expression seemed puzzled. And Lydia thought she had a pretty good notion why.
"Shouldn't you be objecting to this?" she said. "I mean, isn't he calling for an opinion or something?"
He waved her off and continued writing whatever he was writing in his pad. "Means nothing," he said.
He was starting to scare her.
"Let me ask you this, Dr. Bromberg. Have you ruled out Mrs. Danse as the boy's abuser to this day?"
"How could I? The boy won't say."
"Nothing further, Your Honor."
She looked at Sansom.
"I have nothing for this witness, Your Honor," he said.
No, she thought. Get up. Do something for G.o.d's sake.
Sansom just kept writing.
What in the h.e.l.l was wrong with him?
Was she overreacting? She felt suddenly as though she were drowning. Bromberg had just told the court that there was every possibility that she was the one who was hurting Robert-a lie as outrageous as it was frightening.
She saw a look of displeasure cross Andrea Stone's face as she glanced at them once again and then stood up.
"Doctor," she said, "do you have any reason to seriously believe that Mrs. Danse is the abuser here?"
"Objection."
"I'll allow it. Objection overruled."
"No. I have no real reason to believe that at all."
"Do you find it likely?"
"One can't be certain. Not without the boy's saying."
"But do you find it likely, Doctor?"
"Not really. No, I tend to doubt it."
"And her response to you. Isn't an angry response from a worried mother completely within the scope of what you'd call perfectly normal behavior under the circ.u.mstances?"
"I suppose it is, yes."
"I should think so. Thank you, Doctor."
"We call Lydia Danse, Your Honor."
There was never any question that she'd have to go through with this, but knowing that didn't make it any easier. She had nothing in her experience to compare it to. Both divorces had been relatively easy, uncontested. Now she felt a sick hollow empty feeling in her stomach and her hands were shaking as she walked to the witness stand, her mouth dry and sour-tasting. She asked for a gla.s.s of water and drank it down immediately.
She began to relax a little as she felt Owen more or less regain control of the situation, questioning her carefully but gently about Robert's symptoms in general and his behavior up to the night he'd come home from Arthur's fouled and hurting. He referred to the notepad frequently. He took a good deal of time going over the once-mysterious knees-to-chest position, getting her to describe it in detail and estimate its frequency and finally, over Wood's objections, establis.h.i.+ng its meaning.
"You had seen this position before, then, is that right, Mrs. Danse?"
"Yes"
"You had personal experience of this position?"
"Yes."
"Tell us what that experience was."
"With Arthur. It was Arthur's favorite position. When we were having s.e.x together."
She felt herself flush.
"a.n.a.l s.e.x?"
"Yes."
He took her through the night in question. Her discovery of what had happened, packing Robert up and taking him over to Cindy's, going to the bar and accusing Arthur to his face. And then the following day, taking Robert to see Bromberg and Hessler. When she got to the part about cleaning him up that night she began to cry, remembering her helpless pain for him. Otherwise she thought she got through it well enough and calmly.
And then Wood stood, smiling, and walked over.
"You were angry with your husband that night. Weren't you, Mrs. Danse?"
"Yes."
"Furious?"
"I suppose so, yes."
"Hysterical, would you say?"
"No. Angry."
"And you let him know that you were angry in no uncertain terms."
"Yes I did."
"In public. At his bar."
"Yes."
"Within earshot of others?"
"I wasn't paying attention to who might be listening, Mr. Wood."
"Understandable. As you say-you were furious."
"Objection." It didn't come from Owen but from Andrea Stone.
And Judge Burke seemed annoyed with her.
"Ms. Stone," he said, "you are not Mrs. Danse's lawyer, you are Robert's lawyer. Try to keep that in mind, all right?"
"I object, Your Honor," said Sansom.
"Fine. I'll sustain that objection. Please move on, Mr. Wood."
"You didn't mind making a scene, then."
"You didn't see my son, Mr. Wood. If you had, you'd know that making a scene or not making a scene was not something you'd consider at the time."
"It didn't bother you, Mrs. Danse, that you were accusing your husband of a terrible, heinous crime there in his place of business, at the establishment in which he earns his living, in front of patrons, possibly friends, even business a.s.sociates?"
"He raped my son, Mr. Wood!"
He smiled again. "That is what we're here to determine, isn't it? Were you speaking loudly?"
"To Arthur?"
"Yes."
"I don't know. I suppose so. Probably."
"Loud enough so that others might easily have heard you."
"Yes. Probably."
He paused, looking at his notes.
"Do you recall saying to him at that time that from now on you were denying him visitation?"
"I recall saying that he was never going to see Robert alone again, not if I could help it. And that if he wanted visitation he could see Robert while I was in the room and only then."
"But that was not your legal arrangement with him at the time, was it?"
"No."
"Were you aware that in denying him visitation you might be breaking a law?"
"Excuse me?"
"Were you aware that by denying your husband the right to see his son without a hearing on the matter or at the very least, a report to the DCYS, that you were breaking the law?"
"I did report it. The following day."
"But not at that time. Not at the time you told him he was never going to see his son alone again if you could help it. Am I correct?"
"Yes, but ..."
"Are you willing to comply with the decision of this court, Mrs. Danse?"
"Of course I am."
"Even if the court's decision is to allow my client to see his son exactly as he had been, alone, unsupervised?"
"That's not possible."
"Certainly it is, Mrs. Danse. This hearing isn't concluded yet. Anything's possible."
"How could you ... how could anyone allow that when a man molests his child?"
"Again, that's not been proven. My question to you is, simply, could you comply with the decision of this court if that decision was to allow visitation to continue according to the previous terms of your divorce? Please, just say yes or no."
She felt trapped, spinning dizzy and out of control with fear and anger. She knew what the b.a.s.t.a.r.d was trying to do to her yet she felt powerless to stop it. Where was Sansom?
Where was anybody?
"Shall I repeat the question for you, Mrs. Danse?"
"That man will not hurt my son again, Mr. Wood!"
It was the first she'd looked directly into Arthur's eyes since he'd pointed a gun at her from inside his car. This was not the same man. The man she saw now was bland, quiet, at rest. Incomprehensible.
"Meaning that you would not comply?"
"How can you even ask me that? Do you have any children of your own? What kind of man are you?"
"Mrs. Danse," said Burke, "I'm instructing you to answer Mr. Wood's question. Answer it with a simple yes or no. Could you comply with any order handed down by the court, however disagreeable to you personally, or could you not?"
She saw a way. Maybe. A possibility.
The thinnest of thin ice.
"I don't know," she said.
"You don't know?" said Burke.
"Asked and answered, Your Honor," said Andrea Stone. Burke ignored her.
"You realize, Mrs. Danse, that your answer runs perilously close to being in contempt of court."