'He had a regular voice,' she said. 'No accent.'
'And then what happened?'
'Then… he came over to me, and cut my clothes.'
'You were sitting where? In an armchair? On a couch?'
'I was laying down on my couch.'
'What part of your clothes did he cut? What were you wearing?'
She flushed and turned her face away from him.
'Jesus!' she said.
'Miss Flannery,' Hemmings said. 'Sometimes, when it's hot like this, and my air conditioner's not working, and there's nobody around to see me, when I watch television, I do it in my underwear. Was that what happened with you?'
She nodded her head, but still kept her head turned away from him.
'Bra and pants, is that what you were wearing, because it was so damned hot?'
'Just my panties,' she said, faintly, after a moment, and then she flared. 'You're trying to make it sound like it was my fault.'
'No, I'm not, Miss Flannery,' Hemmings said, with all the sincerity he could muster.
He probably would have broken in if you had been wearing an anklelength fur coat, but looking through the window and seeing you wearing nothing but your underpants didn't discourage him any, either, Hemmings thought. And was immediately ashamed of himself.
'You say he cut your clothing? You mean your underclothes?'
'He came over to me and put the knife down the front of my panties and jerked it,' she said.
'Did he say anything? Or did you?'
'I tried to scream when I first saw him, and couldn't,' she said. ' And then when he was using the knife, I was too scared to scream.'
'Did he say anything?'
'He said, 'Let's see the rest,'' she said, very faintly.
'What was he doing with the knife at this time?' Hemmings asked, gently.
'Oh, my God! Is thisnecessary!'
'Yes, ma'am, I'm afraid it is.'
'He was pushing me in the breast with it, with the point.'
She turned her face to look at him, then as quickly averted it.
'Then he said, 'Take your panties off,' and I did,' she said, quickly, softly. 'And then he took me into my bedroom and made me get on the bed, and then he tied me to the bed-'
'What did he use to tie you to the bed?'
'My panty hose,' she said. 'He went in my dresser and got panty hose and tied me up.'
'Up?' Hemmings interrupted. 'Or to the bed?'
'To the bed,' she said. 'I've got a brass bed, and he tied me to the headboard and footboard.'
'On your back? Or on your stomach?'
'On my back,' she said.
'And then what?'
'Then he started talking dirty,' she said.
'Do you remember what he said?'
'What do you think?' she flared.
'Can you tell me exactly what he said?' Hemmings asked.
'Jesus!' she said. 'He used words like 'teats' and… and 'pussy' and words like that.'
'Anything else?'
'Isn't that enough? Or do you mean what he did to me?'
'Anything and everything you can tell me, Miss Flannery…'
'Then he started taking off his overalls-'
'Let's get that fact straight,' Hemmings said. 'Overalls are what farmers wear, if you follow me. They have straps over the shoulders, and a sort of flap in front. Coveralls are what mechanics sometimes wear. They cover everything; they have sleeves. Which was he wearing?'
'Coveralls,' she said. 'Black coveralls.'
'Black, or maybe dark blue?'
'Black,'she said firmly.
'Sometimes people who wear coveralls get them at work,' Hemmings said. 'And they have embroidery on them, or little patches. 'Joe's Garage,' or something like that. Or a name embroidered. Did you notice anything like that?'
'No,' she said, surely.
'When he took off his coveralls, did you notice what kind of underclothes he was wearing?'
'When I saw what he was doing, I closed my eyes.'
'And?'
'And said Hail Marys,' she said.
'And then what happened?'
'He wasn't wearing a T-shirt,' she said, 'an undershirt. I saw that much. He was barechested. He was hairy. He had a lot of hair.'
'And then what happened.'
'I felt him getting on the bed, and when I opened my eyes, he was on top of me.'
'Lying on top of you?'
'No! Kneeling, squatting, over me. Over my head. And he had all his clothes off.'
'And then what did he do?'
'He told me to suck it,' she said, bitterly.
'He meant his penis?'
'What do you think?'
'Was he erect? Did he have an erection?'
'No,' she said. 'No. He said, 'Suck it and make it hard.' '
'And he put his penis in your mouth?'
'He had his goddamned knife on my throat!'
'And forced his penis into your mouth?'
'Yes, God damn you, yes!'
'And did he ejaculate?'
'What? Oh. No. No, thank God, he didn't.'
'What did he do?'
'After a while he took it out, and sat back on his heels and… played with himself.'
'Did he ejaculate then?'
'All over me,' she said, almost moaning, 'my face, my mouth, my chest
…'
'You said he was hairy,' Hemmings asked. 'Did you notice anything else? Were there any scars on his body? Any marks? Any tattoos? Anything like that?'
'I was trying not to look at him.'
'You had your eyes closed all this time?'
'He pushed me with the knife and made me open them,' she said. 'He said he wanted me to watch.'
'And after he had masturbated, what did he do?'
'He sat there, on my legs, for a while, and then he got off and put his overalls, coveralls, back on.'
'Did he go to the bathroom, anything like that?'
'He went to the bathroom on me,' she said, in mingled horror and fury. 'He got off me, off the bed, and then stood by the side of it and… pissed all over me.'
'He stood by the side of the bed and urinated on you. Before or after he put his coveralls back on?'
'Before,' she said.
