The Double Entendre
“Breaking News tonight. A local man – Mr. Douglas Davis of West Hills High School has been arrested and charged with statutory rape and soliciting sex with a minor. Mr. Davis is also charged with purchasing alcohol for the minor. Working at West Hills High for six years, school officials say he is on temporary leave. His wife and other family were unavailable for comment as was his lawyer, the legendary Spencer McFinnigan.”
Mr. McFinnigan turned off the television and under his breath mouthed ‘fuck’ and sat down whilst sighing then proceeded to loosen his tie; the sweat stains under his armpits moving from Oklahoma size to Texas size. The sweat continued to pour out of his forehead. As we grabbed a handkerchief from his back pocket, he wiped his face and turned to his client.
“We are going to have a hard time in court, Davis. Now damn it, you be honest with me. Did you have sex with that girl?”
“I did not have sex with her. I was just…”
“Well, we need to create a fine case for you. With the media coming after you as well. Now let me look through the report.”
Spencer McFinnigan opened the police file and turned back the metal prongs holding the sheets of paper in. He removed pages then abruptly stopped and traced his right index finger across the top of one page and began reading, occasionally mumbling words under his breath; completely inaudible to Doug Davis.
“This purportedly took place in your office. It seems they have footage of her entering and then 14.37 minutes later…huh wow that’s exact…leaving your office crying.” McFinnigan looked up from the file at Doug.
“She wasn’t crying when she left.”
“Fourteen minutes is a long time to talk to a female student alone. Even if that is common the prosecution is going to eviscerate us for such a lengthy ‘conversation.’ They will paint a picture that it was enough time to seduce her, get naked, have intercourse, clean up, redress and have her depart. She is a mature looking girl. Blonde hair to her mid back. C cup breasts. Prominent features highlighted with makeup and a toned well maintained physique. Yes. They can really paint a picture with a sculpted figure such as her.”
“But I didn’t have sex with her.”
“I’m merely building. Hush up and don’t get defensive with your defense attorney. Now, the alcohol is another point where we are going to get screwed. Why was there bourbon in your lower left drawer?”
“My wife and I had been fighting. It’s been really bad and I just had to go back to it.”
“But you’re Mormon, aren’t you?”
“Why yes, but?”
“Does anyone other than your wife know about the fights?”
“I haven’t told anyone.”
“Has she?”
“I don’t know…” Doug trailed off and his eyes began to shimmer.
“I suggest we are upfront with the alcohol but do not indicate your marital problems. That only helps them show that you needed sex with another female. The thing we do have going for us is there were no fluids on her or in the room. They will claim you disposed of the condom. They never found one of course but they will claim you stowed it away and flushed it or something. In the end, the word of this 16 year old girl is going to weigh more than your word. The bruising doesn’t look good either at least from what I can tell in these photographs. I have a guy that can demonstrate and test if these could be faked.”
“Am I going to go to jail?”
“I haven’t lost a case yet for an innocent man. But I swear if you’re guilty Davis you’re done. Can you tell me what your conversation with this girl was about?”
“It was about her class schedule for next year. She had some ideas and we went through her current and past schedules and finalized her senior year courses.”
“Wait. Is that all done digitally?”
“Yes. It’s a program called Wayward that tracks their academic progress and other personal records.”
“And you were on HER Wayward when you met?”
“Yes?”
“Davis. Did you save her information or log out of her profile? That’s how it works right? She has a profile?” McFinnigan had leaned closer now and his pupils had grown wider as his lips pursed together clenching his hands together into a giant fist.
“Well, yes. I have to do that with every student.”
At that response, Spencer McFinnigan jumped up from his chair and clapped his hands together than smacked them on the conference room table. His receptionist opened the door and peaked in but closed it immediately without a word.
“You dog! If we can show that you logged in when she came in and logged out before she left and show the jury the process or selecting the classes – essentially reenacting it then we have got the little bitch!!”
Doug began to smile and wiping his cheeks with his left arm sleeve; his purple shirt turning to black. McFinnigan then paused and slowly turned around, leering down at Doug.
“But here’s the question – why is she accusing you? Why you Doug? What does a 16 year old girl have against you? How does this benefit her? They haven’t filed suit yet only criminal charges. What has been your interaction with this young lady before?”
“Well that’s the thing. I haven’t interacted with her before. I don’t even know her. She’s new to our school.”
McFinnigan rubbed his chin and scrunched his eyes and hummed to himself. His pondering led him to open the conference room door and scream out. “Meredith! Get Dick Brown on the phone. I want his ass down here immediately.” He then slammed the door shut and pulled a chair in front of Doug and sat down quickly and leaned forward yet again; his legs wide open and his fingertips touching on each opposing hand.
“I’m going to do some background work into this girl. But I need you to tell me. Is there anything you are hiding from me?”
“No.”
“Okay. We will look into her. You can go now.”
Mr. Davis grabbed his coat and left with a muttered ‘thank you’ and he went out the door.
McFinnigan went to the bar at the back of the conference room and grabbed a Coke, popping the can and sipping on the beverage as he walked back to his office.
Doug was hiding something and he has a sinking feeling he was innocent in this regard.
The girl was lying about having sex with him but her motivation for lying made no sense. Eventually, Dick Brown arrived into McFinnigan’s office.
“It’s about damn time you showed up. Traffic in Salt Lake City isn’t that bad.”
“Well, I was doing work on the Ogilvy case when Meredith called.”
“Oh whatever. That isn’t important now. I need you to find information on this girl.”
McFinnigan had a photo and several other papers concerning Davis’s accuser.
“Who is it?”
“This is the girl who is accusing that teacher I’m representing of statutory rape and getting her tipsy. He is innocent but this girl is not who she says she is. I need you to look into her past and tell me all that you can find about her. Her name is Brittany Murdock but I don’t think so. Find out her past. She’s not from Utah. Claims California but I highly doubt it.”
“When do you need this?”
“As soon as possible. Ogilvy isn’t a priority now because your trail has run cold anyways. This case though. This case is going to be big.”
Dick Brown nodded then left the room.
Dick Brown went to West Hills High School first and spoke with several teachers and students. No one seemed to know much about her other than she kept to herself and was quiet.
“She’s only been in the school for two months. And to think that all THIS has happened,” said Mrs. Morris her English 3 teacher.
“Yeah, I spoke with her some at lunch. She doesn’t say much probably because we made fun of her voice,” said Megan Hernandez of the 10th grade.
“Why did you make fun of her voice? Did you tell this to the police?” asked Dick Brown.
“No. The police haven’t talked to anybody here yet,” said Mrs. Taylorsen, one of the assistant principals sitting in on the conversations. They were in a conference room much like the one that Spencer McFinnigan and Doug Davis had been in. Dick Brown scratched the back of his white hair and adjusted his gray suit jacket before he asked the next question.
“Would you mind imitating that voice? Can I record it?” He turned to the assistant principal and she said nothing but just turned and stared at the floor.
“Sure. It was a gargulling type of sound like with k’s and I’s. Like snotty. ‘Pass the riiice-a.’ I dunno. It was like something was caught in her throat.”
“That’s just fine little lady. Thank you for your time.” Brown got up and popped his back and limped out of the conference room after saying his thanks. When he got into his car, he pulled out his phone and called Spencer McFinnigan.
“Spence. It’s Dick.”
“Yeah? What’s up?”
“Girl at the school who had lunch with your defendant’s accuser had an accent. Used to catch on her k’s and I’s. Almost sounds Jewish.”
“Hmm, not Jewish. Since you’ve been gone I did some digging of my own. Did you know that son of a bitch Davis was in the Invasion of Iraq in 2003? He was one of the first marines to march into Baghdad. His military record hasn’t come up. Dick, I want you to go up to the U and speak to my linguist friend and get her down here to the office. Tell her it’s urgent and that I’ll pay her double. Her name is Dr. Norma Jones. You should find her easy. Cool?”
“Yeah. Sure thing, Spence.” Dick Brown turned onto the interstate and headed up to the University of Utah which was situated on the side of the Watsatch Front. Brown’s Altima was quite beat up but he was saving up money since his divorce a couple of years back. McFinnigan and he had a lot in common but Brown preferred to be the foot man while Spencer thought and ordered. It worked well that way in the team make up.
The inversion was rough in this part of January and the heat didn’t work in his car. Spencer McFinnigan wasn't in court today and he envied the warm office.
Nevertheless, the pollution in the valley was some of the worst around but the view of the mountain range painted with snow on top gave a pleasant cheer to Dick Brown.
Eventually, Google Maps took him to the correct building at the University of Utah and his managed to find that Dr. Jones was in a class. It appeared she taught Latin this period. He look at his wrist watch and noticed it was 7 minutes to the hour. Sure enough, two minutes later her class was dismissed and Dick Brown walked in.
Dick Brown introduced himself and explained the Davis case to her when she interrupted him.
“Who do you work for? What lawyer?” She had seen him for what he was.
“Spencer McFinnigan.”
“Ha! No way! I don’t want to see that Spencer McFinnigan again.”
“I’m sorry? He said you were friends?”
“Ha! More like we went on a few dates and knew he wasn’t my type. He’s just trying to reach out again to screw around. He maybe the most famous defense attorney this side of the Rockies but he isn’t touching me again!” She hurmped and started to pack her laptop and other belongings into a rolling case.
“Look Dr. Jones. The man gets around I admit that and I ain’t great with ladies. I’m just an old cowboy turned private eye. But there is a man we really think maybe innocent of this crime but perhaps this girl has a valid reason for wanting to frame him. Maybe he did something bad. Plus, Mr. McFinnigan wants to pay you. This whole thing is purely business. Don’t you want to use your skills?”
“Give me your number and let me think about it.”
Dick Brown gave her his business card and left. He called Spencer McFinnigan.
“You should tell me if you have slept with one of your contacts. You upset this one real bad.”
“Really? That was like three years ago. Ehh, whatever. It was the best she ever had and probably still. What did she say?”
“She needs to think about it.”
“Oh, Norma is good. She’ll research it. You know those academics and then she’ll be all over this case. Pretty soon.” He Paused. “Oh my gosh this case is going to make us big.”
“What?”
“Yeah. I have a phone meeting with some marine gents in a few minutes. Looks like there is quite the dossier on Mr. Davis. It appears he was part of some pre-invasion force. I need you to go to his wife and find out what they were arguing about or if they even were. I think once we have that we can arrange a meeting with him, the girl and Christiansen and we will get the truth out. The wife is still staying at the house. They live off of state and 90th south. I’ll text you the exact address.”
Sure enough a text came through as Dick Brown was getting into his car.
“What if she won’t talk?”
“Dick. You’re a silver fox. You’ll be lucky if she DOESN’T want to have sex.”
“You are such a horn dog.”
“Perhaps. But wait till you see her ass. Also, isn’t it weird we haven’t heard anything about the girl’s parents. Nothing in the news. Did anyone at the school say anything?”
“You know, no. No one said anything about her parents. I didn’t even ask about the parents at the school. Damn. I was so focused on her.”
“Yeah, everyone has been focused on her. I’ll give the school a call after my phone meeting. If I get an address, I’ll let you know.”
Dick then drove away from the U and over to state street to begin his last piece of gathering for Mr. McFinnigan.
Spencer McFinnigan a few short moments later after eating his Jimmy John’s sandwich the secretary had fetched for him received a telephone call from the Pentagon.
“The Pentagon, huh? Well hot damn. What kind of shit did my client do?”
“As you know Mr. McFinnigan we aren’t at liberty to tell you all military procedures and moves. Nevertheless, we had targets within the cities and towns leading up to Baghdad we knew from intelligence gatherings in the ’90s that needed to be neutralized.”
“Wait, were these party members?”
“No. These were the people who would become the insurgents and now ISIS.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t follow. We murdered people we thought would be dissidents?”
“No. Insurgents. These were people we knew had pledged allegiance to Al Qaeda. Now as far as we are concerned Mr. Davis is a patriot and American Hero. I have nothing else to say.” The unnamed man from the Pentagon hung up.
“We will see what that sexy wife says and then I think I got him,” McFinnigan said to himself as he then took a huge bite out of the accompanying chocolate chip cookie. He moved to his computer and googled the phone number for West Hills High School and asked to speak with the principal.
“Yes, Principal Reynolds. Thank you for taking my call. My investigator Dick Brown came by earlier today but we managed to not ask about Brittany Murdock’s parents. Have you ever met them? What do you have on your records concerning them?”
“I have not met them, Mr. McFinnigan. If anyone did, it would be the registrar’s office for classroom scheduling and fees.”
“Your school still requires parents to come in for that sort of thing?”
“Well, no, we don’t. It can all be done on the website now but sometimes parents come in to pay for fees or to help their child with classes. Let me see what they have on file and we can email it to you. How does that sound?”
“That sounds very helpful. My email address is spencer.mcfinnigan@mcfinnigandefenseslc.com.”
“Very good, sir. Sounds easy. We should have it for you in a couple of hours. The ladies just stepped out for lunch.”
“Yes. Well, thank you for your time and help Principal Reynolds.”
“Likewise.”
McFinnigan hung up the phone and bounded out of his chair and walked over to the window of his office which stared downtown. The new Eccles Theater outlined his left and the Mormon Temple to his right. He was high up in this edifice of which one whole floor he rented. The city was growing as would the crime and thus the clientele. He started to walk side to side in front of the large window, floating above the gridded streets below. Pieces of the story started to already come together and he didn’t even believe he needed the information from the school or the wife anymore but he would wait and see what Dick Brown had to say.
A half hour passed by and Meredith the secretary came into McFinnigan’s office.
“Sir, looks like you have some mail here concerning Mr. Davis.”
“Divorce papers?”
“Why yes? How did you know?”
“Well, it is an underage rape case but I have a feeling they were going to be filed anyways. Hopefully Dick calls here in a few.”
Sure enough, the phone happened to ring at that moment and Spencer answered it promptly.
“Well?”
“She’s getting divorced.”
“I know that. Why? What’s up?”
“She cried a lot but said he told her something he had done in Iraq.”
“What was it?”
“I’m bringing her in now. She is willing to tell you because she knows he isn’t a rapist but something worse did happen to that girl.”
Soon thereafter, Dick Brown and Mrs. Davis arrived. She sat down and proceeded to tell McFinnigan Doug Davis’s war stories. Around this time, he received the email from the West Hills High School registrar.
“First thing in the morning,” said Spencer McFinnigan drinking another Coke, “we call them all in here and expose this shit for what it is.”
********
The next day they were all there. McFinnigan, Doug Davis, Mrs. Davis, Brittany Murdock, the District Attorney Mr. Christiansen, Dick Brown, and Dr. Norma Jones who had accepted to help after McFinnigan told her Mrs. Davis’s story.
“We are ready to leave at any moment we deem you inappropriate, Mr. McFinnigan. Ms. Murdock has been through enough already but to have her in the same room as her assailant goes against my better judgement but if that means justice will be served and you have…”
“Oh would you shut up. Listen, Brittany Murdock, right?”
“Yes,” said the blonde girl.
“Where are your parents?” said McFinnigan.
“That’s none of your concern,” said Mr. Christiansen his hands on his briefcase and his toes dug into the carpeted conference room floor.
“Well, it is if she doesn’t want to go to jail. Frankly, I have no interest in her going to jail nor my client. Where are your parents?”
“Not here obviously,” said Brittany Murdock, her words clipped.
McFinnigan turned to Dr. Norma Jones who said, “As you suspected.”
“Is that because they’re dead and buried in Iraq?”
Brittany Murdock looked down at the floor and Mr. Christiansen looked at McFinnigan with wide eyes.
“She’s from California!”
“No, no she is not. Doug, why don’t you tell us the story. Your wife told me yesterday. I’m not here to judge. I’m here for the truth. Tell us how you knew Brittany was the sister of that poor boy outside of Baghdad.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” said Doug Davis who was now sweating quite profusely.
“Uh huh. Look. Mr. Christiansen.I know you haven’t talked to her parents because her parents are dead. You see, Mr. Davis here was part of a CIA operation in the 2003 Invasion of Iraq. I got this information from his spouse. His team was to find two targets and eliminate them. Agents of Osama Bin Laden hidden in Iraq waiting to organize a resistance against the incoming American Military. But you see Mr. Davis only found one of the two men. He wouldn’t talk you see. So, they killed that one man’s son in front of him and his only daughter. He gave up the other man and they took them both into custody. The wife had been dead for some time. I suspect that this girl right here is that daughter. The school registrar describes two portly individuals who came in and actually signed paperwork for Brittany’s classes however they acted strangely. One spoke to herself and the other smelled of alcohol. They actually listed the Catholic Rescue mission that's really run by the Mormon church as their address. My private investigator Mr. Dick Brown and even the media couldn’t get a hold of them.”
“Well, we met two people that claimed to be her mother and father,” said Mr. Christiansen the District Attorney.
“Oh, now who were they?” said Spencer turning to the girl with his arms folded.
“Two homeless people from 5th West. I paid them and cleaned them and feed them. They listened to what I told them to say and well, that’s all it took. There is no point lying anymore.”
“You planned this!?!” Doug Davis said rising in his seat.
“Only to screw you! You screwed my life so now I rape you.” Brittany Murdock then took off her blonde wig and took out the blue contacts from her eyes. She grabbed a handkerchief from her purse and began to wipe away the creamy makeup to reveal tanner skin. Her dark black hair and green eyes turned to McFinnigan. “And you will help this monster get 'way with it!”
“I’m no monster! You damn people blew up New York and your brother was a thug holding back the target. We didn’t mean to kill him. It was an accident. The guys went too far. Why come after me and no one else on the team? Why me?!” Doug Davis was breathing heavily. The sweat was pooled in his eyes and he kept swiping them clean.
“You gave the order. Also, everyone else on your team was killed in the war later on. How could you not know that?”
“We weren’t told each others’s real names. We were there to get Osama’s agents.”
Mrs. Davis was crying now.
“And your wife is going to divorce you because?” said Dick Brown who had been standing the corner itching for a cigarette.
“Because he lied about his past to me. I never knew he was in Iraq. Also, his drinking is out of control and he won’t see the Bishop. If he can’t repent, then our temple marriage is over!”
“I think I’ve seen enough here,” said the District Attorney rubbing his hands together over his briefcase handle, “I guess we need to charge you now Brittany or whatever your name is.”
“I think we should just forget about it. Just drop the charges and let’s pretend none of this happened. Mr. Davis can go back to his job. Your bishop is outside with Meredith our secretary along with a great LDS Counselor I know."
With that, the conference room was emptied. Some hands were shaken and Dick Brown went back to work on the Ogilvy case. Spencer McFinnigan grabbed another cold can of Coca Cola and drank.