Sol Stein - Other people

"Lawyers don't put people in jail. Why do you want the man in jail?"

"For what he did." To me.

"Miss Widmer, revenge is not one of the services I provide."

"Did my father tell you the man lives on the floor above me?"

"Yes."

"How am I supposed to go on living in that place, worrying about what he's going to try next? I can just see myself in bed, trying to fall asleep, knowing his bed is right in the bedroom above. When I hear sounds up there, is it supposed to mean that weirdo is banging his wife or that he's getting out of bed to come downstairs and have a go at me again?"

"Please, Miss Widmer."

"Please what, it's my house, what's the use if I can't feel safe in it?"

"Try to calm down."

"My body is not a public urinal for some loonie to go shoving his thing in!"

"Please calm down."

"I'll calm down when I feel safe. When he's in jail. Why are you looking at me that way?"

"What way?"

"You're staring at me."

"I didn't mean to stare. Please take it easy."

"I will when he's in jail."

Please help me put him there. If I knew how, I wouldn't ask for help . I closed my eyes, took a long, slow, deep breath. He thinks I'm hysterical. I have to somehow control myself. My father used to say we all have feelings — dismay, anger, rage — the difference is how we control those feelings. Letting go is weakness. Shrillness is foreign to us. Oh God, are we disciplined!

I opened my eyes, determined. This man is trying to help me. I need to help him help me.

"That's better," he said.

"I m sorry."

"Understandable. Can we go on? There are facts I need to know."

I nodded.

"How many apartments in that house?"

"Six." Control the voice . "Two per floor."

"I gather you like it a lot."

"I've got a river view. The rooms are large. It's not expensive. It's convenient for commuting." It doesn't belong to my parents .

"Do you have a lease?"

"I don't want to move."

"How long is your lease?"

"Another two years. Is rape grounds for getting out of a lease?"

"I doubt it. Does the man — do you know his name?"

"Koslak." My image of him was the moment he opened his pants. I could kill him .

"You said something about a wife."

I don't see how anyone can live with him . "A wife and two kids that I've seen. At least two kids. You haven't answered my question. Will you help?"

The intercom buzzed. Without turning in its direction he said, "No calls."

"Thank you," I said.

Thomassy looked as if no one had ever thanked him for holding calls before.

"I won't require a retainer in your case," he said, "but I'd like you to settle once a month."

I nodded.

"It could get expensive. And I can't promise results."

What a wonderful line of work to be in, I thought. Heads you win, tails you win.

"How expensive?"

"Perhaps two thousand a month in the exploratory stages. If there's a trial, it might go to another five or ten."

That kind of money I can't afford.

"I'm sure your father will advance the monies if it becomes necessary."

I don't want to depend on anyone for money.

"Look," I said, "my father charges so much per hour. Don't you work that way?"

"Not really. I can't get involved in keeping track of phone calls and time sheets. If the client is a defendant, I usually get most of my fee in front."

"I'm not a defendant."

"I'm not asking for anything now. I'll bill you later. All right?"

What alternative do I have?

"You can trust me to be fair," he said. "I can't tell what'll be involved just yet. This isn't like a lawsuit. I can't file papers, that's something only the D.A.'s office can initiate. I know Cunham pretty well. The odds are he'll balk like hell. He'll decline to take it before a Grand Jury."

"On what grounds?" Again, an edge of shrillness in my voice. I have to keep calm.

"Truthfully? He'll see it as a threat to his work load. And other things."

What other things?

"You can leave those to me."

"I want to know."

"Cunham's a politician."

"What's that got to do with it?"

"Please hear me out. The way a fellow like Cunham thinks is: men have half the votes. Most men of voting age have come close to applying a little pressure in a sex situation. Cunham will figure that if he lets this come to trial, a lot of men, while they won't identify with the rapist, will be — consciously or not — protecting themselves. Some of the women will sympathize with you, more today than a couple of years ago, but middle-aged housewives think a young woman of today who, I'm sorry, doesn't wear a brassiere, is looking for trouble. That adds up to a majority of voters on the other side, that's what Cunham'll be thinking."

"Koslak raped me!"

"That'll have to be proven."

"Not to me!"

"You won't be on the jury. And first Cunham has to be convinced to prosecute."

"Oh this is so frustrating. Trying to map out how other people think."

"That's the only thing my experience is good for."

"But it's so straightforward. Koslak broke the law."

"If everybody who broke the law ended up in court, most of the population would crowd the docket for the next century trying to work off one year's case load. Look, Miss Widmer, suppose I succeed in getting the D.A. to prosecute, suppose the Grand Jury indicts, suppose there is a trial and the man is convicted — that's a lot of supposes — are you going to pay the rent and groceries for the wife and two kids?"

"Are you crazy?"

"I'm not crazy, and neither is Cunham. Send that man to jail and you're adding to the welfare rolls. Bad politics." You re a cynic.

"Well, won't we be polite about it and say I'm a realist? Look, doctors get malpractice insurance. Lawyers do, too. But politicians can't get it because almost all of them are guilty of malpractice. They say they want this or that. What they want is to get elected. Everything else is subordinate."

"Including the law?"

"Yes. They're supposed to represent their constituents. In fact they represent themselves. A few D.A.s practice law, but all the others are politicians looking to get reelected, and rape is not a good issue for a D.A. at this time. You live in the same world he does. I know only one way to survive in it. See it as it is. Find out where the short hairs on the other guy are. If my way of viewing things makes you gag — you went to Radcliffe, right?"

"Radcliffe women seem to make a lot of men feel insecure."

"Young lady, nobody makes me feel insecure. Naive people worry me. They've got a lot of rocks to carry around on their backs until they discover wheelbarrows."

I took it as a good sign that he was taking the trouble to lecture me.

"Mr. Thomassy?"

"Yes?"

"I don't suppose you've ever been raped?"

"I've been seduced a lot," he said.

"There's a difference."

"We'll talk about the difference some other time."

"If you'd been raped, Mr. Thomassy, you'd sure as hell not just put it out of your mind and forget it."

"Revenge isn't exactly a pure motive."

"I didn't know you were a purveyor of pure motives."

"I'm a lawyer. I win for my clients."

"Win for me."

"All I'm saying is I'm not sure I can."

"I'll help you."

"How?"

"I'm resourceful. You won't have a sheep-dog client waiting open-mouthed for the voice of God. I'll do anything to jail that cock."

"Anything may mean wearing a brassiere to court."

"I'll have to buy one."

"Okay," Thomassy said. "Start by telling me how it happened, step by step. The ground rules are you don't color things, you don't lie, you don't hold back, censor, or omit. I want to know as much as you do about what happened. What was the date?"