“How can you tell she’s crying,”
Mrs. Feeney
said.
“I’ve seen the full picture,”
Jesse said. “Face and
all.”
“I don’t know what to do,” Mr.
Feeney said. “Should I get a
lawyer.”
“You won’t need one until we arrest
him,” Jesse
said.
“Arrest?” Mrs. Feeney said. “How
can you arrest him? He’s a
child, for God’s sake.”
Jesse got up and walked around his desk and sat on the corner of
it in front of Kevin.
“Who took the picture?” Jesse said.
Kevin stared at the floor.
“Did you rape this girl?” Jesse said.
Without raising his eyes, Kevin said, “I didn’t do
nothing.”
Jesse let out an audible breath.
“This isn’t skipping school, Kevin, or smoking a joint,” he
said. “This is jail time.”
“Oh my God,” Mrs. Feeney said.
“Oh my God.”
“I say there are three of you,” Jesse said. “You holding her
hands, somebody else taking the picture, and a third party, off camera, holding her feet.”
“I didn’t do nothing.”
“Do you know Bo Marino?” Jesse said.
Kevin nodded. He looked as if he might collapse in his chair.
“Did he take these pictures?”
“I don’t know.”
“We found them in his possession.”
“I don’t know.”
“Was someone holding her feet?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who was holding her feet.”
Kevin began to cry.
“I don’t know,” he said.
“I don’t know anything.”
“Don’t yell at him,” Mrs. Feeney
said. “Leave him
alone.”
Jesse nodded slowly.
“Okay,” he said. “Kevin Feeney,
you are under arrest for sexual
assault.”
“No,” Mr. Feeney said.
“You have the right to remain silent,”
