“I’ll go double or nothing he claims he doesn’t,” I say. “That’ll be your first indication that he’s the guy. If he killed her, there’s no way that he’ll want you knowing what’s on her phone.”

12. DANA GOODWIN

12.

DANA GOODWIN

After Richard got sick all over me and Gabriel sent him home, I headed back to my office for a change of clothing. I have a spare suit and blouse stowed there from the last time I was on trial. Sometimes it makes more sense to stay in a hotel rather than to hike back to Queens at two in the morning.

The first face I see upon my return to One Hogan is Sandra Wittcamp, the most junior lawyer in the group. I’m still covered in remnants of Richard’s last meal—at least what I couldn’t wash off in the One PP restroom—but she doesn’t seem to notice.

“I was looking for Lauren,” she says. “Any idea where she is?”

It occurs to me that I never discussed with Drake McKenney how to break the news to the members of Special Vics. I can’t get too far out in front of the boss on something like that, so I obfuscate.

“Is there something I can help you with?”

“Maybe . . . It’s about the Gutierrez case.”

The name means nothing to me. “What’s the issue?”

“It’s a domestic,” she says, trying to sound casual with the lingo even though I can tell she’s uncertain whether she’s using it properly. “The vic was pretty badly beat up. Broken nose. Anyway, now she says she fell. Doesn’t want to press charges.”

This is the most common obstacle in sex-crime prosecutions. We could easily bring in ten times as many cases if it weren’t for recalcitrant—or, more accurately, petrified—wives and girlfriends.

“Did you explain to her that it’s not going to get any better if she does nothing?”

This is what the newbies are taught during orientation. When the victim wants to forget the whole thing, you play the role of understanding friend, advise her to pursue the matter and remind her it’s going to be more of the same until she does.

Virtually no victim ever changes her mind. That’s when it gets tough. The DA’s office doesn’t need the victim’s cooperation to prosecute, but it’s often a matter of resource allocation. Why knock ourselves out to protect someone who won’t accept our help, especially when the case is likely unwinnable if the victim is going to deny under oath that any crime occurred?

“Yeah, but she’s insisting she fell,” Sandra says.

“Right. Did you talk to the husband?”

“The wife?”

“No, I know you talked to the wife. Did you talk to her husband?”