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“You’re not on the deeds?”
I shook my head.
“Isn’t that risky? I mean, people do break up.”
I decided it was a good time to take a few more bites of my breakfast. After a moment, she said, “I guess that’s none of my business.”
When I didn’t respond to that either, she said, “Well, we should get down toourbusiness.” She reached again into the leather tote. After moving a few things around, she pulled out three files which were each about an inch thick.
“These are three separate cases. All rape. We’ve tested the DNA, twice, and it doesn’t match the men sitting in prison.”
“You’re grouping them together?”
“Yes. Same police officer, same prosecutor. Each conviction was made primarily on witness identification. We crack one we’ve got them all.” She slid the files over to me saying, “Read through these, then I want you to talk to the victims.”
“That’s sounds pretty awful,” I said. “They’re not going to want to hear that the man they think raped them didn’t.”
“And you won’t be telling them. The LAPD will have gotten there first.”
“They’ll say we’re trying to get their rapists out on a technicality.”
“And you’ll explain what a DNA test is.”
I can’t say I was looking forward to dealing with three traumatized women armed only with science. I flipped open one of the files, glanced at the top document—an incident report from the late eighties.
“Silverlake,” I said, recognizing the street name. “Are these all out of Rampart?”
She nodded. “Detective Brenda Wellesley. She made detective in eighty-seven. She was just thirty. Apparently fast-tracked under The Blake Consent Decree.”
“Explain.”
“The Blake Consent Decree sets hiring and promotion goals for the LAPD. As a woman, she probably benefited from that.”
“So, you think she was out to impress and screwed up?”
“Yes and no. Prior to DNA, a blood typing test was used on sperm. Unlike DNA, it could only exclude suspects. It was either their blood type or it wasn’t. A certain portion of the population is what they call nonsecretors. People who don’t secrete the antigens needed to perform the test. These three gentlemen are nonsecretors.”
“But there was more evidence than that.”
“The witness statements are all strong. Almost too strong.”
“You think Wellesley coached them?”
“That’s what I want you to find out. Subtly.”
I nodded, then said, “There’s something I’d like in return.”
“Aside from your paycheck?” She seemed annoyed by my proposed negotiation.
“We got a letter from a kid named Larry Wilkes. I’d like to follow up on it.”
Lydia frowned deeply. “I’m guessing there’s no DNA angle,” she said. Something to test for DNA was a requirement for a file to advance in our offices.
“No. It’s not that kind of case.”
Sipping her coffee, she stared me down. Finally, she asked, “Why?”
“He’s accused of killing one of the other students at his high school right after graduation. He says he didn’t do it. I believe him.”
