A large black-and-white poster of Ginsberg sitting naked in the lotus position greeted Marlene when Stupenagel opened the door. Catching her glance, the reporter said, "It's a self-portrait, one of only fifty original prints from his private collection. I got it for a steal after helping his secretary, Peter Hale, catalog some of his recordings. Come in, come in, some old friends have joined us."
Marlene followed Stupenagel down the hallway, wondering what sort of mischief her old roommate had in store. A moment later, she knew, as she entered the living room and saw Robin Repass and Pam Russell drinking wine and chatting.
"I think you know Robin and Pam," Stupenagel said in her best hostess voice.
Marlene shot her a dirty look but smiled with genuine affection at the two younger women when they stood up and moved quickly over to her. She embraced each of them, then stood back and asked, "So how are you two holding up?"
Their smiles faded. "You've heard about what happened with our Coney Island case and the lawsuit?" Russell asked.
"How could she not unless she's been living in a cave," Repass said.
She was always the brash one, Marlene thought, Pam the polite counterpart. Together they'd been a dynamic team.
"I'm holding up about as well as can be expected after being labeled a lying racist pig, losing my job, and being sued for every cent I've ever made and ever will make," Repass said.
"And then being told to bend over and take it," Russell added, the unexpected sexual reference causing them all to burst out laughing.
The laughter stopped abruptly at the sound of the front door opening and a man's voice calling out, "Honey Buns, I'm home."
Ariadne jumped up to intercept the visitor but not before Gilbert Murrow entered the room with an armful of flowers and a handful of videos, which he promptly dropped when he saw that he and Honey Buns were not alone.
Marlene bent over and picked up one of the videotapes. "Hmmm, a classic…Last Tango in Paris," she said with an amused look on her face. "Should we remove the butter before we leave tonight?"
Stupenagel plucked the video out of Marlene's hands and gave it back to her boyfriend along with the other two she'd picked up. "Murry, sweetie, don't you remember," she said, relieving him of the flowers. "This was supposed to be boys night out. You're supposed to go out with your guy friends, get drunk, go to strip bars and place folded dollar bills in G-strings, get all horny, and THEN come home. Remember? I was going to spend a quiet evening at home with my girlfriends, and then after I kicked them out, wait up for you."
"Oh…yeah," Murrow said. "Sorry, thought I remembered this was movie night." Only then did he get a good look at the women beyond Marlene and his girlfriend. His mouth and eyes opened wider. He quickly covered both with his hands. "See no evil. Hear no evil. Speak no evil. I don't even want to know what's going on here." He spun on his heel and made for the front door.
Stupenagel smiled at the other women. "I'll be right back," she said and rushed after Murrow. There was the sound of urgent whispers from the hall, a period of quiet, and then the door opened and closed. Stupenagel reappeared with her lipstick smeared, tucking her shirttail back into the waist of her skirt. "He's such a sweetheart," she said, her voice somewhat husky, "if a little forgetful. Now, where were we?"
"Well, I for one was wondering about all the secrecy," Marlene said.
"I wasn't sure you'd come," Stupenagel replied.
"Why? Because I might not want to be part of whatever story you're working on?"
Stupenagel looked hurt. "Sure, I like having the inside track on a juicy story. But believe it or not, I arranged this because I'd like to stop what I think is a huge injustice. I don't know if you remember this, but I was the first reporter to write about what really happened to Liz Tyler on that beach. That was back when I was working for the Times. And I covered the trial from gavel to gavel. I guess you could say this is one of those stories that really stuck with me. I don't know about this Villalobos guy-maybe he was there from the beginning, or came along during or after-but those other guys are guilty as sin."
"So what's this have to do with me?" Marlene asked. When the other three women were silent, she shook her head. "Oh, no, I'm retired. No more private investigator, no more lawyer, no more vigilante shit. I'm a painter, a mother, and a housewife. Besides, aren't you two being represented by Corporation Counsel?"
"The office is, and by all appearances, Corporation Counsel is about to offer a large settlement to the plaintiffs," Repass said dryly. "But we're on our own as private individuals. The law allows such suits if we were 'acting outside the constraints of our official duties.' Apparently, the plaintiffs are alleging-and Corporation Counsel isn't doing anything to say different-that our actions were so horrible that we can be sued for violating their civil rights."
"You need a good civil attorney," Marlene advised.
"Oh, come on, Marlene, there's something going on here that requires more than a good civil attorney," Stupenagel jumped in. "Robin and Pam, as well as a few good police officers and detectives, are being offered up as sacrificial lambs when the city, the NYPD, and the Kings County DA ought to be fighting this tooth and nail. I was thinking you might be willing to poke around a little. I'm working on some angles-a little bird told me something interesting I can't divulge at this moment-but I don't always have your…imagination…when it comes to getting to the bottom of things like this."
Marlene glowered at Stupenagel. "You know Butch would blow a gasket if he thought I was trying to 'get to the bottom of things like this.'"
Russell reached out and touched her arm. "That's okay, Marlene. You're right, we need to find a lawyer who'll represent us and fight this thing ourselves."
"Let's forget about it," Repass added, "and just have dinner and a little conversation between friends. Stupe says she's been sweating over a hot stove, but we think she ordered out-"
"Lies!" Stupenagel complained. "I've been wronged!"
"And the wine is probably homemade."
Stupenagel laughed and agreed. "Yep, squashed the grapes in the bathtub with my own size-ten feet."
Marlene looked at the three women who were grinning at her. "Shit," she swore. "I suppose it can't hurt to drink a little wine with old friends, can it?"
Somewhere into the third bottle, Marlene decided that letting her two former protegees run through their case also wouldn't hurt.
One of the most pernicious aspects was the position taken by DA Breman in what Marlene viewed as an improper vacatur of the convictions, based on purely hearsay revelations by Villalobos, which were unsworn and suspiciously documented by Breman.
"The fact that Villalobos was one of the assailants does not answer whether the other five, including Kevin Little, who would testify for the People, weren't also participants," Russell said. "We always conceded in the trial that there was a sixth assailant."
"And nothing he said warranted an outright dismissal of the convictions," Repass added. "In fact, it's prohibited under relevant New York legal precedent-Section 440.10 of the Criminal Procedure Law. The law does not permit an otherwise valid conviction to be set aside merely on the basis of a third party's claim of guilt for a crime for which other defendants were convicted."
"At best," Russell said, "such a claim mandates only that the court conduct a full evidentiary hearing-complete with sworn testimony and the right to cross-examine him-to test Villalobos's allegations that he, and he alone, was responsible for the assault on Liz Tyler."