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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

12 Hours - 8. Chapter 8

Amanda Aguilar began her examination of Gene De Wijk according to form. “Please state your name.”

“Gene De Wijk. Eugene Daniel De Wijk.”

“Could you please repeat your last name and pronounce it carefully for us?”

“De Veck. It’s almost the same as Van Wyck, if you know the parkway.”

“I’m afraid I don’t.”

“It’s in New York... Queens... not far from where I grew up... Only they pronounce the American W.”

“Thank you.”

“It means ‘district’ in Dutch. It’s a place name.”

“And could you please tell us your present address?” Amanda asked, politely pushing on. After Gene did, he also told her his age, about his profession, education, military experience, current employer, previous employers, and something of his personal background. When Ben objected to Amanda’s continual questions about Gene’s marital status, its history, and his possible children, she told the judge, Dorothy Washington, “It’s just standard procedure, your honor.”

Dorothy nodded and let Amanda go on. She’d worked with Mandy before and found her well-prepared, rule-abiding, and courteous. She wasn’t as sure of this relatively new Ben Carleson, but he seemed competent.

Gene worked through all the preliminaries, until Amanda reached what she really wanted to discuss: Gene’s possibly destructive hypnosis session with Jessica Seong. Ben Carleson had already introduced it as evidence to support Gene’s credibility.

“I know many people associate hypnosis with magic,” Ben had said, “and everyone knows how fake that is. But Dr. Seong is a licensed clinical psychologist, and, as mentioned when I read some of the comments of the many people she’s helped, she uses hypnosis as only one of her tools.”

Still, Amanda thought many of the people on the jury trusted hypnosis as little as they’d trust flying with toy balloons, and she wanted to give them as much support as possible.

“Who is Jessica Seong?” she asked Gene.

“She’s a licensed clinical psychologist,” he replied.

“Is she also a hypnotist?”

“Yes. She’s an accredited hypnotist.”

“Did she assist you in reconstructing the incident which occurred on September 3rd, 1985?”

“With remembering some of the details... Yes, she did.”

“When was it that you first visited her?”

“I don’t recall the exact date. But it was a week-or-so after September 3rd.”

“So sometime in September of last year... 1985.”

“Yes.”

“What was your reason for seeking her assistance?”

“I was so... I don’t know... I was so emotionally upset about the whole thing that I needed something. I needed some professional conversation so I was able to understand what had happened. And some means to develop an understanding of the sequence of events. Because the whole thing just seemed like a nightmare.”

“Who referred you to Jessica Seong?”

“No one referred me.”

“Did you know her prior to September 3rd, 1985?”

“No.”

“Then how was it you came to visit her?”

“From an advertisement in a newspaper.”

“The LA Times?”

“No. This was... The Advocate was the newspaper.”

“And what’s The Advocate?”

“It’s a local LA paper.. like the LA Weekly or the...”

“A tabloid?”

Ben knew that in the most casual way, Amanda was trying to discredit The Advocate without ever mentioning it was primarily gay. And he’d warned Gene to keep sex out of this. “It’s not what the lawsuit is about.”

“But it’s about harassment,” Gene had objected. “Gay harassment.”

“It is to you... but not to the jury. To them, it’s about false arrest... and police brutality... and false imprisonment. If we even have a chance of winning, it has to be that way.”

“The paper’s in tabloid size,” Gene had gone on to Amanda. “But that’s to keep expenses down. It’s full of local stories and news. And movie reviews... restaurant listings.”

“And this was an advertisement?”

“A story, really. Dr. Seong had a story written about her in The Advocate.”

“And based solely on this article, you sought her assistance?”

“Yes.”

“Before she hypnotized you,” Amanda continued, making the process seem doubtful, “did you have any recollection of your whereabouts on September 2nd, 1985 at approximately 1:00 in the afternoon?

“Yes... I was at a party.”

“Did you remember what kind of party?”

“A pool party.”

“Did you remember where?”

“In the Hollywood Hills.”

Ben had found the address for Gene, but they decided not to use it – simply because Gene hadn’t been able to remember it the night of his arrest.

“Did you remember whose party it was?” Amanda continued.

“No... it was by word of mouth. I didn’t... and can’t... remember the name even now.”

That was absolutely true. Ben had never contacted the present homeowners, not wanting to complicate matters. If Amanda had found something new out, Ben would insist it wasn’t relevant.

“Did you have the address of where this party was held?” Amanda asked.

“It was written down. I didn’t memorize it.”

“Could you find the location if you attempted to go back?”

“Probably. It was at the old Walt Disney estate.”

There was a quiet comment by a member of the jury. At least, it seemed to come from that direction. But Gene didn’t want to look.

“Was it hosted by the studio?”

“No. There was no connection.”

“Do you remember who invited you?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t... and I don’t remember exactly how I learned about the party.” He shrugged slightly. “It was at another party... Friday or Saturday night.”

“Did you go to a lot of parties that weekend?”

Gene now grinned. “It was Labor Day.”

When one of the women on the jury laughed, he reflexively looked at her. But she was smiling, too, as were several others.

“Is there some other reason you can’t recall who the host of the party was?” Amanda continued.

“Well, some...” Gene was looking at Ben, thinking carefully how to word this. Ben nodded, encouragingly. “The reason I can’t remember is there was no friendship... no real acquaintance. This was just news about a party that was spreading by word of mouth. Invitations were passed along.”

“Did you go to the party yourself?”

“No.”

“Who went with you?”

“A friend... an Navy old friend... Vic Kargar.”

“Does he live in Los Angeles?”

“Actually, he was visiting for a couple of weeks... on vacation... late summer...”

“Where does he normally live?”

“Connecticut.”

“What does he do there? What kind of work?”

Gene looked at Ben – to see if he was going to object. Ben just nodded.

“He’s a barber.”

Actually, Vic was mostly a hairdresser. But “barber” sounded better, and Ben smiled.

“Was Mr. Kargar staying at a motel?”

“No... he was staying with me... As I said... he’s an old Navy buddy.”

“But I thought you already had someone living with you. Didn’t you say earlier there was a renter?”

That was one of the questions Ben had tried to dodge. But the judge had let it stand.

“Yes... Chris. Chris Lamphier.”

“How many bedrooms does your house have?”

“Objection, your honor,” Ben said. “We’re going a bit wide.”

“Allowed,” Dorothy said, smiling again. “It’s routine.”

“The house has three bedrooms,” Gene almost said by rote. “Mine. The one I rent to pay the mortgage. And the one I use as a kind of home office. But there’s a couch in there, too. That’s where Vic slept.”

“So you had a full house?”

“Yes.”

“Did any of your other friends go to this party?”

“Yes... Chris.”

“How did you get there?”

“We drove.”

“Didn’t you say you went alone?”

“We took separate cars.”

Amanda nodded. “Do you remember any other people who were at this party... the pool party? Other than Mr. Kargar and Mr. Lamphier?”

“Not really. I can recall faces, but I never learned people’s names. There were no introductions.”

“How many people were at the party?”

Ben wanted to say, “This is all unimportant.” But he was sure Dorothy would again point out it was routine.

“I’d guess about a hundred,” Gene answered. “A bit over a hundred.”

“Was it a fund raising event? Was there some reason for it?”

“No... Just to have fun... It was the holiday.”

“Approximately what time did you leave?”

“The party?”

“Yes.”

“About eleven.”

“So you were ‘having fun,’” – she made it sound childish – “from one in the afternoon to almost eleven at night without learning anyone’s name?”

Gene smiled. He knew this would make him look stupid, but he said. “That’s correct.” Ben again nodded, but there was no reaction from the jury.

“During those approximately ten hours, did you have anything to eat?”

“Yes.”

“What was being served?”

“Oh... a lot of things. It was a buffet.”

“Cold cuts?”

“Some... But cooked food, too. Hamburgers... Hot dogs...”

“Steaks?”

“A little lower class.” Gene smiled. “Barbecue.”

Again, someone on the jury laughed.

“Did you have anything alcoholic to drink?”

“Yes.”

“Can you remember what?”

“Rum and coke... That’s my usual party drink.”

“And approximately how many rum and cokes did you have? In the ten hours?”

Gene paused to think, though he’d answered this question before. But Ben told him not to seem too casual. “I’d say four or five.”

“Could it have been more?”

“Well, that’s an estimate... it could’ve been one more. But it also could’ve been less.”

“Could it have been as many as ten?”

“Nooooo,” Gene said, grinning. And he had the jury with him.

“Was this also true of Mr. Kargar and Mr. Lamphier?”

Gene shook his head. “I really don’t how many drinks they had... or what they ate. We didn’t... I wasn’t... I wasn’t watching what they were doing. I was enjoying myself.”

He was getting a little rattled and didn’t want that to happen. He didn’t want to undermine Ben. And he knew this was the easy part of the examination.

“During the party, was there music?” Amanda asked. “And dancing?”

“Yes... and swimming... And volleyball and croquet. And some of the guys were playing cards.”

“Were you with your friends at all during the ten hours?”

“Some of it. Yes.”

“But mostly you mingled with other guests?”

“Yes.”

“Yet you can’t remember even one of their names?”

Gene tried to explain – for the jury. “It just wasn’t that kind of party,” he said. “It’s not like I was there on business... where I have to memorize names and associate them with faces... And with companies and jobs. We were just there to have fun.”

He paused – and tried to think of a way to help Ben shift from what they knew wasn’t important to what was. Then he went on – maybe a bit too darkly.

“And whatever pleasure I had that afternoon was easily wiped out by what happened after.”

“By a ‘traumatic experience that occurred at approximately 1:30 on September 3rd?’” Amanda shot right back. When that seemed too heavy, she smiled and reminded Gene – and the jury – “I’m just quoting from what you told Mr. Carleson earlier.”

“Yes,” Gene answered simply. And Ben nodded. They’d made the shift.

Or maybe not. “So at this time,” Amanda pushed on, “even with the ‘expert’ help of Jessica Seong and her hypnosis... you really have no specific memory of any relationships... or conversations... or the names of anyone you met at the party. Is that correct?”

Gene stayed calm and took a moment to breathe before repeating, “Yes. That is.”

“When you left the party,” Amanda asked, “did you leave alone?”

They were finally out of there, and Gene said, “Yes, I did.”

“Was there any reason why Mr. Kargar didn’t join you?”

Almost out. “No particular reason. He had his own car.”

“Then Mr. Kargar didn’t come in your car?”

“No. As I said, we took separate cars... He came with Chris.”

“Did you follow them to the party, or did they follow you?”

“We left at slightly different times. There was no following.”

“So you all had the address?”

“I think someone had given me a piece of paper... but I really can’t remember. It might’ve been directions I jotted down. ‘101 to the 134. 134 to the 5. 5 to something. And then turn... and turn....”

“Someone gave you this?”

“Possibly. Or they were notes I scribbled when I got home. Or transferred from a napkin.”

“Home from a different party? Before the one at the pool?”

“Yes.

“Do you still have that piece of paper?”

“No... I gave it to Vic. And I’m sure he tossed it away.”

“When you left the party at approximately eleven o’clock, did you tell Mr. Kargar?

“He and Chris had already gone.”

“Do you remember when?”

“Not really. Some time earlier... maybe an hour.”

“Do you remember why?”

“I think Vic was tired. He’d been in LA for a couple of weeks... almost... but he was still on East Coast time. And he always goes to sleep before me.”

“Were you sober when you left the party? At least, did you think you were?”

Ben and Gene had discussed this. Ben could object. But it seemed more important to the jury for Gene to answer.

“I knew I’d been drinking,” he said, honestly.

“Were you intoxicated?”

“No... I wouldn’t say that. But I would say, ‘I’d been drinking.’” He smiled, while trying to remain serious. “Even more, I was tired after partying for ten hours.”

“And three other days?”

“Two-and-a-half.” Gene smiled. “I worked most of Friday.

“Could you feel the effects of the drinks?”

Gene continued to smile. “I could feel... something... and I knew I wasn’t eighteen anymore.” The woman on the jury laughed. “But I’m not sure if it was being tired or the handful of drinks.”

Gene wondered if “handful” sound like more or less than “four or five.”

“I take it you’ve been intoxicated before?” Amanda went on. “Let’s not say on September 2nd. But you’ve been intoxicated?”

Gene looked at Ben – really wanting to call a Time Out. Ben simply looked encouraging.

“Yes,” Gene answered. He wondered where this was going.

“Have you ever been so intoxicated that you know what that feels like?”

Gene was genuinely lost, and he tried not to stumble. “You’re using the word in a way I don’t completely understand.” He paused, and then explained “When I say ‘intoxicated,’ it could mean a guy’s had a couple of drinks. But it could also mean, he’s flat on his face and not getting up. It’s the difference between being ‘loose’ and being ‘plastered.’ To me, they’re both ‘intoxicated.’”

Ben smiled. Gene had handled that nicely. Amanda continued.

“You stated that you drank four or five rum and cokes. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Did you feel that those four or five drinks affected your stability? In any way?”

“Well... as I said... I knew I’d been drinking... I could tell the difference.”

“So you could feel that?”

“Yes.”

“Could you feel it in terms of balance? Or speech?”

“It was mainly about my being tired. I felt a little wiped.”

“Yet after leaving the party, where did you go?”

This was going to be hard. He never should have followed his impulse.

“I stopped at a bar,” he admitted.

“In Studio City? The Hayloft?”

“Yes.”

“Approximately how far was the party in the Hollywood Hills from where you live?”

“From my house?”

“Yes.”

“I live in Woodland Hills.”

“And how far was that to the party?”

“I don’t know... I’d have to guess... I don’t go to that area a lot. The people have far more money.”

“Can you give us an approximation?

Gene tried to work it out. “I’d say about twenty-five miles.”

“And how far was the bar from the party?”

“I’d say it was in the middle.”

“So approximately twelve miles from your home?”

“That sounds right.”

“Did you stop because you were tired?”

Gene knew he could lie. And Ben knew it. And Gene had already admitted he was tired, so it could seem plausible. But it wasn’t the reason

So Gene simply said, “No,” and – fortunately – Amanda let it drop. Maybe she knew to keep sex out of it, too.

Copyright © 2021 RichEisbrouch; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Good interrogation so far...not sure just where she's going, though she's doing her best to show him to be less than truthful in his description of his state of inebriation.  I'm eager to see how this unfolds.

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Thanks.  And this being 1985, even in the liberal, San Fernando Valley section of Los Angeles, they're both easing around Gene's being gay.

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