10 comments/ 33857 views/ 11 favorites Everyone Said She Did It By: Cromagnonman I stared at the page in disbelief, but there it was, plain as day; she had been giving him a blow job and while he was fully erect and enjoying himself, she had taken a zip tie and slipped it around his scrotum and pulled it tight but not tight enough to cause him pain. That didn't come until she had placed another around the base of his cock, then she tightened both of them, really tight. By the time the paramedics had arrived on the scene his cock and balls were both purple. The removal operation was carried out with extreme care and he was rushed to hospital where every effort was made to save his reproductive organs. Doubts still remained some three months after the event as to whether he would ever regain full functionality to these parts of his anatomy. Damage to the blood vessels in his penis was such that no amount of physical or visual stimuli could induce an erection. The 'she' in this saga was Loretta Martin. She was a successful young business woman with her own interior design business that attracted a clientele of equally successful people. That she should have been on a date with the victim, James St Clair was no great surprise to their friends; after all it was common knowledge that they were 'an item'. Every person that the police spoke to during their investigation had said that they made an ideal couple, they were both good looking and successful, they seemed to have so many things in common that it was expected that an engagement announcement was imminent. What their friends could not understand was how the date had come to this. They had dined at 'La Bodega', their favourite restaurant, before the opera. Everyone said that 'La Boheme' was their favourite and they cried unashamedly at the end. They said their good-byes to their friends before their hired limousine had taken them to her apartment. The limousine driver said that they were typical of a loving couple during the journey; whispering to each other and kissing often, and when he dropped them off they were holding hands as they entered her apartment building. What had happened to cause her to do something like this to a man who was a respected member of the business community? What had caused her to inflict such pain on a man who she was supposed to love? That was what I had to find out. The court ordered Psychiatrist, whose report was in front of me, had been unable to find any sign of mental instability. In his report he had stated that the only manifestation of any sort was a complete denial that the event had ever occurred. He questioned her about her childhood and found nothing that could have triggered such behaviour. He questioned her extensively about her sex life and concluded that it was 'normal' in every way, that she had an active and loving relationship with James and was anticipating his proposal eagerly. She had already chosen her wedding dress and paid a deposit on it. Her attorneys had come to me, the sign on my door said that I was Matthew Lawrence, Clinical Psychologist, to see if I could unravel this dilemma. When she walked into my consulting room it was all I could do to avert my eyes. She was the person who stopped conversations when she walked into a room, everything about her was flawless; her hair shone honey blonde in the light from the window, her skin looked as if it had never seen make-up and never would and her long slender neck carried the single string of pearls as if it was meant to do that from birth. Her tailored dark blue suit fitted the curves of her body perfectly and her crisp white blouse was a perfect foil for it. There was no cleavage showing and she exuded an almost Puritanical quality that belied the charges that had been made against her, this quality was further emphasized by her black stockings and shiny low heeled shoes. Anyone less likely to have inflicted such pain on a man, especially one that she was said to have been in love with, I could not imagine. "Won't you have a seat?" I indicated the chair on the other side of the low coffee table in the centre of the room. She sat with her knees close together as if she was afraid to allow me a glimpse of anything above them. The look in her eyes was of a frightened rabbit caught in the spotlight. "You have been asked to come and see me because your attorney wants to find any reason for your actions that he can use to either get you off or reduce what is potentially a long period of incarceration. Do you understand this?" "I understand. What I don't understand is why no-one will believe that I didn't do this thing. I love James and am looking forward to marrying him. I can't understand why he has accused me of this because I know that he loves me." "I have read the police report and they have evidence that you are the only person that could have done this. There's the evidence that you were seen together by dozens of your friends at the opera. Do you deny that you went to see 'La Boheme' at the opera?" "Yes." "There is evidence that you and James were dropped off at the front of your apartment building at exactly 11.33pm and you were seen entering the building. Do you deny that?" "Yes." "At 12.09am the 000 emergency call centre received a call from your apartment requesting urgent Ambulance attendance. It came from a man who gave his name as James St Clair and when the Paramedics arrived they found him in agony with zip ties pulled very tightly around both his penis and scrotum. Do you deny having done this to him?" "Yes." "The DNA sample taken from the zip ties has been tested and the Pathologist has said that there is a 96.3% chance that it is yours, and that is enough to convict you of having done this horrible deed. Yet you still deny any involvement." "Yes. I am innocent." "Can you explain to me why I should believe you when everything points to your guilt?" "Because I didn't do it." "Can you provide any evidence to support your innocence?" "No." "Are you happy in your life?" "Yes. At least I was until I was accused of this horrible act." "How is your business going?" "Very well thank you. I have several projects in the pipeline that will keep me and my team busy for months." "And your relationship with James, were there any problems there?" "No. We were very much in love, at least I thought we were." "And now you think otherwise?" "Well I have to, how else can you explain him accusing me of causing him pain?" "Do you own a black dress with gold beading around the bodice?" "Yes, it's hanging in my closet at home?" "When was the last time you wore it?" "I wore it for the first and only time a year ago when James and I went to see 'Figaro' at the opera." "And you haven't worn it since?" "No." "Then how can you explain that when the police tested the dress they confirmed that it had been worn on the night in question?" "I don't know! Why doesn't anyone believe me? I didn't do it. I would never do such a thing to anyone, least of all the man I love." "I think that is enough for today." I took an appointment card from my card holder. "I would like to see you again in a week's time." I wrote the time and date on the card and handed it to her. She stood up and I walked with her to the door. "I'll see you then." "Very well. Good-bye." With that she was gone. I stood and watched her graceful walk as she left my office. What to make of this? Everything about this case points to her guilt and yet, there was something about her that screams out loud that she is, as she claims, innocent. But she has offered no proof of that innocence. I re-read the reports again hoping to find something that had been overlooked and that would support her claim. I read them several times until the words had become a meaningless blur and as I placed the papers in my file I noticed that I had drawn a large question mark on my page of notes. I had a miserable night, I couldn't concentrate on anything. I burnt my dinner, the wine I opened was 'corked' and undrinkable. To make matters worse there was nothing on TV worth watching so I went to bed earlier than usual. I couldn't sleep, my mind was filled with Loretta Martin, filled with the way she looked, the way she spoke, the way she protested her innocence. There was something about this case that didn't sit right in my mind and the frustrating part about the whole thing was that I couldn't put a finger on what it was. At about 4.00am I got out of bed and made myself a cup of coffee and took a book on Forensic Pathology from my bookshelf and turned to chapters on DNA. The more that I read it the more I was convinced that unless there was a problem with the evidence itself, she was guilty. I rang James St Clair at his office, explained who I was and requested a meeting. He was reluctant at first but eventually agreed to see me later in the afternoon. At 4.00pm I was ushered into his spacious and beautifully appointed executive office. I detected the Loretta Martin touch to this layout. He came around his desk and shook my hand and indicating that I should take a seat. As I sank into the leather I mentally compared this with my Spartan furnishings. "You asked for this interview to discuss what happened between me and Loretta. I have to confess that I don't know what happened and even if I did, I don't think that will change how I feel about her. I hope she rots in hell for what she did to me." "I understand how you feel." I had been taught right through university that the correct response was 'I know where you're coming from' to show empathy but that smacked of a programmed response and was an indication in many cases that you didn't have a clue where the person was 'coming from'. "But the reason that I wanted to speak to you was to see if I could find out from you anything that could explain the quantum shift in her behaviour. Every report that I have read, every witness statement, seems to indicate that her behaviour was in every way normal." "I don't think that I can help you. I have gone over the events time and time again and the only conclusion that I can come up with is that she has totally lost her mind." 'I spoke to her yesterday and have to admit that she didn't strike me as the type that would do something like that. That is why I'm here, because of this contradiction in her personality, I feel that something isn't right about all of this. What I want to do is to take you through the events of that night to see if there was something that was missed in the initial investigation." "It hurts to do this, and I'm reluctant to help you but I can't see the problem." "Very well, let's go back to the beginning. When did you make the arrangement to go to the opera?" "I had been called away on business and had to cancel our previous date, so to make up for that I made the reservations and sent her a text message with the details. This had happened before and was not unusual in our relationship. She understood that my business took me away on short notice." "And how did she accept the invitation, did she call you or was it by text?" "She returned my text message." "The wording of these messages, was there anything odd about them?" "No, they contained the usual things that we said to each other, you know personal stuff." "Do you have your phone with you?" He took it from his desk drawer. "Do you mind if I see these messages?" "No, I guess not." He handed me his phone and I scrolled through his messages until I found his first SMS. It wasn't in the usual shorthand that seemed to be the norm. 'Hi Darling I miss you terribly and am really sorry I had to cancel our last date. To make amends I have dinner reservations and tickets to La Boheme next Saturday night. I will call when I get home. Love you all ways and always. XXXX J' "You don't use SMS speak?" "Not in my texts to her, it doesn't seem to be the appropriate way of expressing love." I read her response, and there was nothing unusual about that except. . . . I checked the numbers of both the outgoing and incoming messages and saw that they were different. I needed to follow up on this before I say anything, but there was something unusual about this that a friend of mine might be able to explain. "So you took her to dinner first at," I checked my notes, 'La Bodega', is this correct?" "Yes. It was our usual practice to dine out and then go to the opera." "How did you get from the restaurant to the opera?" "We had a limo booked for the evening. It picked me up from my apartment and we went to Loretta's to pick her up. It then drove to the restaurant and stood by to pick us up and take us to the opera." "How did the driver know when to pick you up from the restaurant?" "He knew what time we had to be at the opera, knew how long the journey would take and we arranged to be picked up at a time that would get us there on time for the opening curtain." "So everything about the night was planned and predictable?" "Yes, that's the way that Loretta liked it, she was a very organized person." "What was she wearing?" "She had on a black dress with gold beading on the bodice. She did look beautiful." "Did she say or do anything that was at all unusual?" "Some of our friends commented that she seemed to be a little, what was the term, 'flirtier' than usual. I put that down to her being happy that we were together having missed out the previous week." "After you got to her apartment, what happened?" "We started to make love." "Explain that to me, who initiated it, what foreplay was involved?" "Do you have to know this? It's a little personal." "I need to know." "Well, when we got inside her apartment I took her in my arms and we kissed. I asked her if she missed me and she kissed me again and told me she had been desperately lonely without me. We went into the bedroom and got undressed. She hung her dress up as usual and tossed her underwear into a laundry hamper in her closet. When we got into bed she began to suck my cock which was how sex always began for us, she would suck my cock for several minutes and then I would put my finger in her and rub her clitoris. After several minutes of this we would usually have sexual intercourse only this time it never got that far." "That was when she placed the zip ties around your balls and cock?" "Yes. I didn't pay any attention to it until she tightened them and then I screamed at her to release me. The pain was excruciating, but she just laughed at me, took some clothes from the closet, got dressed and left." "So she left you in her apartment, don't you think that strange?" "I wasn't thinking about anything other than stopping my agony and saving my penis and testicles from permanent damage." "Have you seen her since then" "No. I was in hospital for her first court appearance and have no intention of having any contact with her until the trial and her being found guilty. I wish that this was a hanging offence so that I could watch her drop." I got up. "Thank you for your time, it has been a great help." His puzzled expression followed me from his office. When I got outside I dialled the number that was on the reply to his text message and got a recorded message telling me that the number was no longer in service. Interesting. I decided at that point to become a part time detective. I rang a friend in the electronics industry and asked him about the phone number. "It was most likely a pre-paid phone bought for the occasion and now it is no longer in use there is no way of tracing it. It has probably been thrown away." Why would Loretta go to the trouble of buying a pre-paid phone? Was this pre-meditated and she was covering her tracks? I had to find out more about her movements and why she wasn't telling me about them. My TV didn't even warm up that night. I spent hours on the Internet getting as much information as I could about Forensic Pathology and DNA testing. There had to be something there that I could use, had to be. I began to question my motives. Was it because her persona when I spoke to her was nothing like that of the person who committed this outrage? Was it because someone was lying and I needed to know who? Or were my motives more personal, I was attracted to her and felt that the only way that I could ever hope to attract her attention was to prove her innocence? I dismissed the last one as absurd, I would never compromise my professional integrity by getting personally involved with a client. I checked with the limo driver and his evidence was unshakable, he remembered her because he thought that she was the most beautiful woman that he had ever seen in all his years driving celebrities around. I interviewed the staff at 'La Bodega' and they had the same vivid recollection of Loretta and James, that they were the most attractive couple and more importantly they were regular customers and the Maitre d' was almost a personal friend and he didn't notice anything unusual. I interviewed the friends that they spoke to at the opera and they all re-enforced the other statements that Loretta and James were the same Loretta and James that they had known for years. Nothing unusual apart from the comment of two of the women that Loretta appeared to be a little 'flirty', more than usual. The first chink in this evidence came when I found that her car wasn't parked in its usual place in the undercroft car park. She had apparently driven it to work but had returned by cab half an hour before she was picked up by James in the limo. But then when I checked with her staff to find out why she would have left her car at work I was told that she didn't come in to the office but had telephoned to say that she had to go out of town to talk to a prospective client. There was nothing in her appointment diary to confirm this appointment. Strange. Given this information I asked if she had an account with any particular filling station because if she, as she had told them, was going out of town, she would most likely have filled up before she went. I was given the location of the filling station who confirmed that she had filled up at 3.16pm on that day. I also got them to check the time, how much fuel she put in the car and the odometer reading of next filling, this information was a requirement when making claims of fuel expenses on Income Tax. From this I was able to get an approximation of how far her vehicle had travelled between the two fillings. Having the make and model of her vehicle and the fact that she filled up on consecutive days I was able to calculate that she would have travelled some five hundred and thirty seven Kilometres in 18 hours which meant that she was probably out of town when the crime happened. Where had she gone and why? Was it really a business appointment and if so, why wasn't it in her diary? If it wasn't a business appointment what was it? Either way, did anyone see her and could anyone corroborate her story and provide her with an alibi? Because the police believed that they had sufficient evidence to convict it would seem that they had no interest in exploring the case further. So I decided that I had to look into it even if it was to satisfy myself that everything that needed to be done had been done. My next step was to the County Records Office where I located her Birth Certificate and from that I had the name of both her parents and here I hit a brick wall, both were dead so were unable to provide background information on her upbringing. Something in her mother's death notice rang bells. The town in which she died and was buried was the right distance from here for her to have made the round trip to visit the grave, but why? It wasn't the anniversary of her death. I checked her mother's birth records and found that her birthday corresponded with the date of the alleged crime. It was worth following up on. Everyone Said She Did It It took me three hours to travel the two hundred and fifteen or so kilometres to the town and a further half an hour to locate the cemetery and the grave stone. Reasoning that she wouldn't have made the round trip virtually non-stop I checked the local hotels and found that she had checked in at 7.00pm, dined in the hotel dining room, alone, stayed overnight, checking out at 10.00am the following day. I had proof that she was nowhere near her apartment on the night in question so she was innocent. Next question; if she didn't do it who did? And why? And why was Loretta not willing to defend herself? I thought about these questions on the return trip but was no closer to a solution when I arrived back at my office. The next day I began my search for a motive and my first task was to track the movements of James St Clair in the week prior to the event to see if there could be something there. I hit immediate pay dirt. He had gone on a business trip that required him to be away from home for three nights, nights that he didn't spend alone. Her name was Fiona Dawson and she was a business associate who just happened to be an ex-girlfriend, or was that an ex-ex-girlfriend. They dined together every night and spent every night in the hotel. The fact that there was no separate reservation for Fiona strongly suggested cohabitation for the period. Further research revealed that this was not the first time that James and Fiona had spent time together on 'business trips'. I wondered if Loretta knew of this and listed it on the questions that I would ask her at her next appointment. Could jealousy have been the motive behind the attack? I had to shelve my enquiries for a couple of days because of the intervention of my real work, but an idea was forming in my head that could explain the reasoning behind Loretta's actions. That was all thrown into a state of total confusion the day before I was due to speak with her again. I was seated at my desk working on a case file when my intercom announced that 'Miss Martin is here to see you'. Even before I had a chance to tell my receptionist to ask her to wait my door burst open and Loretta strode into my office. Only it wasn't the Loretta of last week, this Loretta was a vastly different person. Her clothes were different, gone was the tailored suit and black stockings to be replaced by a short red leather skirt and a top that showed an obscene amount of cleavage, fishnet stockings and stilettos completed the transformation from an elegant business woman to a slut. What she did next completed the transformation. I had stood up and walked around the desk to greet her when she shoved me back against it and taking my face in her hands she kissed me with a passion that I had never experienced before. Her tongue forced its way into my mouth and almost down my throat. A hand reached between us and jerked the zipper of my trousers down and found my flaccid cock. As she pulled it free of my shorts she dropped to her knees and engulfed him with her mouth. My poor cock didn't know what to do, hide in fear or respond by hardening. It was sort of half-way between one and the other when she pushed me onto the desk and climbed onto it, straddling me. With a deft movement, obviously born from experience, she manoeuvred my cock into her pussy and pushed down on it forcing it deep inside her. She moved in ways that I had only ever dreamed of and it was only a matter of minutes before he came. She quickly dismounted, took him in her mouth and sucked him clean, took a handful of tissues from the box on my desk, shoved them between her legs and walked out of the room. The whole incident had taken less than five minutes and left me confused beyond belief. Did Loretta Martin have multiple personalities and this one was responsible for her actions against James St Clair? I sat and tried to collect my thoughts, to make some sort of sense of all of this. On one hand there was the elegant drop dead gorgeous Loretta Martin who looked as if she would never hurt anything or anyone, while on the other hand there was the alter ego, the one that had just demolished me and who looked capable of castrating a fly if it suited her. Suddenly there was a resounding clatter as the penny dropped. I looked through Loretta's file and found the number for her attorney. He came on line and I told him who I was and requested an urgent appointment. After giving him a brief reason it was granted. Peter Donaldson was a man in his fifties, tall and lean with dark hair tending to grey at the temples, in a word distinguished. He shook my hand, "Mister Lawrence, your phone call intrigued me, I have gone over the evidence and I can't find fault in the police investigation, and the only defence that Miss Martin has offered is that she is innocent, and you believe her?" "Yes I do and I have proof. What I don't have, but I have a good idea about this, is the reason why she won't offer a defence." "Go ahead, I'm interested." I outlined my theories and the evidence that I did have and told him that I would discuss all of this with Loretta when she came to see me tomorrow. I left him with a list of questions that I felt he should ask the police witnesses. I explained my reasons for not wanting a resolution to this until the trial and that I needed Loretta's approval for some of it. The Loretta Martin that sat in front of me the next day was identical in every way to the one that sat there on the first day. The suit wasn't the same colour but its cut was the same, the blouse was the same as were the stockings and shoes. She was once again the successful business woman. "Loretta, I know that you are innocent of the charges laid against you and I can prove it. What I don't know, or can't prove, is the why and who you are protecting" "I don't understand." "I know that you think that you are doing the right thing but, believe me you are not. The person that you're protecting needs help, and more help than you are able to give. It's time that you realised that and left it to the professionals. I can help you with that, what I need from you is permission to do it." Her face collapsed and she held it together with her hands. They were leaking tears so I took some tissues from the box and handed them to her. It took her some time to regain her composure. "I have tried, but I can't do it any more, I've failed her and I don't k now what to do. This is the first time in my life that I haven't been in control and I'm afraid. James has been no help in this and he'd become impatient with me. I can understand that, he has his career and his reputation to think of and to have someone like me and my problem is upsetting to him." I took a chair and placed it in front of hers and took her hands in mine. "Look at me Loretta. What I am about to say to you might seem a little harsh and it will require you to act out of character, but, let me tell you, if you don't do this you will suffer both physically and mentally. I can help you, I want to help you, but to do that I need you to listen to me and believe that I'm doing this for both of you." She looked at me and had the same frightened rabbit look that she had a week ago. She didn't say anything, just the briefest of nods to indicate acceptance. When I finished outlining what I knew, what I thought, what was going to happen at her trial and why, she stared at me with a mixture of disbelief and relief. The disbelief was that I had outlined everything perfectly, what had happened and why and what needed to happen next. The relief was that it was now out in the open, or soon would be. She looked at me and squeezed my hands. "How did you know all of this and why are you helping me. I would have thought that your responsibility finished when you wrote your report." "My responsibility doesn't finish until after I give evidence. I will be questioned on my report and the Prosecution will want to know why I went beyond what was expected to dig up the evidence that I have. Now do I tell them that it was because I felt that there was an underlying reason for the actions that you were alleged to have taken that needed to be explored or do I tell them the real reason, that I," I took her face in my hands, her look wasn't one of fear but one of understanding. To hell with my resolutions about not getting involved with clients. "I want to help you more than I'm being paid to because I'm attracted to you, I wouldn't be a normal red-blooded male if I wasn't, because you're a very attractive person, and there's every chance that I'm falling in love with you, I know that I don't move in the same circles that you do, that I don't have the same income that you do, that I'm totally out of your league, that, I think I'll stop talking now." She leaned forward and kissed me. "Don't put yourself down like that, you are a sweet, kind and the most honourable person that I've ever met, and when this is over I want to take you to dinner and we'll discuss your feelings for me, my feelings for you and our feelings for each other. Is it a date?" "Yes." For once words, other than that one, failed me. When sanity returned I rang Peter Donaldson. "She agrees, yes she will go along with it. I'll see you, do you want to speak to me before the trial? Okay I'll see you then." The trial began with a succession of police witnesses who all confirmed the sequence of events, that Loretta Martin had dined with James St Clair, that the couple had attended the opera and had driven to her apartment in a hired limousine. The defence didn't challenge that evidence. Then it was the turn of the Forensic Pathologist. He was taken through the procedural steps leading to his reaching the conclusion that Loretta Martin had caused the damage to James St Clair's genitalia. "You say that the possibility that Loretta Martin was responsible for this is 96.3 percent. What are the possibilities that there is someone out there who could be said to have been 100 percent responsible?" "That would be extremely unlikely, it would fit in the one chance in a billion category. The percentage of this sample is enough to convict." "Thank you that will be all." The Prosecution had already started their victory celebration. Loretta was in the stand and in answer to their questions she denied any knowledge of the events of that evening. The Prosecution didn't ask the one question that would have cast doubts on the evidence, that was left to Donaldson. "Ms Martin, where were you on the night of Saturday September the 19, 2009?" "I was in Richmond, some two hundred and seventy Kilometres away." "Why were you there?" "I was talking to my mother." "But your mother is dead." "Yes she is, but I've found over the years that if I have a problem and sit at her grave side and talk about it I often reach a solution. Some people talk to a therapist, I talk to my mother." "When did you return from, 'talking to your mother'?" "At approximately 1.00pm on the following day, that is Sunday the 20th." "When did you become aware of the injuries to James St Clair?" "The police were waiting for my return and arrested me when I drove into the car park of my apartment building." "Why didn't you tell them where you had been?" "They never asked me." That was the something that I couldn't put my finger on when I read the police report. Because guilt was presumed, after all James told them she'd done it, they didn't think to ask that question and she was in such a state of shock she didn't volunteer the information. "But surely you could have volunteered the information, why didn't you?" "I was shocked at first and afterwards I didn't, I had my reasons not to." Donaldson let it go at that. The Prosecution team thought that he didn't have proof and was merely sowing seeds of doubt. When it came to the turn of the Defence to present its case it began by calling the manager of the petrol filling station. "Mister Jamieson, you have been asked to provide us with certain information, do you have that information?" "Yes. I have here the transaction records and the CCTV tapes for the 19th and 20th of September 2009." "Can you read to the court the transaction that occurred at 3.16pm on the 19th?" "It shows a vehicle with the registration number LM 001 had taken on some 57 litres of unleaded fuel and the odometer reading was 56,734 Kilometres. The transaction was paid for by credit card and the name on the card was L. M. Martin." "And the next day, the 20th at 1.07pm did the same vehicle refuel?" "Yes it did." "And how much fuel did it take on?" "48 Litres." "And the odometer reading this time was?" "57,271 Kilometres." "Were you on duty at those times?" "Yes I was." "Is the person who purchased the fuel at those times in the courtroom?" "Yes sir she is." He pointed directly at Loretta. "The CCTV footage will confirm that the person who purchased fuel was indeed the defendant Loretta Martin, and it is her signature on the fuel docket. Your witness." Donaldson sat down. "No questions of this witness." The Prosecutor was looking daggers at the police. The next witness was the manager of the hotel at which Loretta stayed. He confirmed, and presented the reservation records as corroboration, that she had checked in at 7.00pm, dined in the restaurant and checked out at 10.00am the following day. Again there were no questions from the Prosecution. The next witness was a Professor of Forensic Pathology at the local university. "Professor Wilson you heard the Police Pathologist give evidence that the DNA was a 96.3 percent match to that of the defendant. Is there any situation where another person's DNA could be an almost perfect match for hers?" "Research has shown that the DNA sequences of identical twins are a 95 to 100 percent match." "So, what you are saying is that, if the defendant had say, an identical twin sister, that sister could have committed this crime and her DNA would have been a close enough match to that of the defendant?" "Yes that is true." "You were asked, were you not, to compare three tissue samples which we will submit as evidence. These were marked 1, 2, and 3. When you compared these samples, what were your findings?" "I found that samples 1 and 3 were a perfect match and that sample 2 was a 96.3 percent match." "If I told you that only sample 2 came from the defendant would you conclude that the other person was more likely to have committed the crime?" "Yes, that would be my conclusion. That is also the conclusion reached by two members of my staff who were given samples to test. There can be no doubt that the other person is guilty." The prosecution was in turmoil, their key piece of evidence had just been shot down in flames. "Your honour to save the prosecution having to scour the countryside for the other person I would like to call my next witness, Carmen Martin." Carmen came into the courtroom dressed in identical clothes to Loretta. Unless you were standing within centimetres of her you could not tell the difference, but I could because it was no longer hidden under heavy make-up as it had on the day that she raped me in my office, on the side of her neck was a small tattoo of a butterfly. That there was heavy make-up started me thinking about a tattoo and when I asked Loretta if Carmen had one she confirmed the butterfly on the neck. She was sworn in. "Would you state for the record your full name please." "Carmen Louise Martin." "And the defendant Loretta Martin is your twin sister, is this correct?" "Yes." "Tell me Miss Martin, where were you on the night of Saturday the 19th of September 2009?" "I was on a date with James St Clair." "How was it that you were on that date and not your sister?" "I arranged it." "Was James aware of the change?" "Not until I zipped him." "How did you arrange it without your sister knowing?" "After I saw James and that other woman I dropped in on Loretta and, while she was showering I borrowed her phone and redirected her incoming calls to a pre-paid phone that I had bought for that purpose. When he sent the SMS message inviting her to the opera I answered for her. I then told her that I had seen him with another woman and showed her pictures I had taken with my other mobile phone. She was a creature of habit so I knew that she would go and talk to our mother like she always did when she had a problem. I took her place. Simple." "And did you at the end of that date take two zip ties, place one around his scrotum and the other around his penis and pull them tight?" "Yes I did. The cheating bastard deserved it! He was cheating on my sister so I decided to teach him a lesson that he'd never forget!" The gavel worked overtime but it still took several minutes to restore order. The prosecutor stood and sought leave to withdraw all charges against Loretta. The police were waiting to arrest Carmen. Peter Donaldson had already offered to represent her and I had offered to submit a report that, along with a psychiatric evaluation would see her placed in a facility where she could receive appropriate treatment for her personality disorders, of which there were several. Something that Loretta had found herself unable to do. When I had arrived at her apart,ment for our date she had kissed me. "Thank you for believing in me, no-one else did." "When I first saw you I couldn't not believe in you, I couldn't believe that you could have done what everyone said you'd done. When Carmen raped me in my office and I noticed the thick makeup on her neck I suspected the truth, all I had to do was find out why. Her behaviour gave me a huge clue, I've never met anyone so sexually aggressive, she was totally without inhibitions and it was no great leap to my believing that she would have been capable of maiming James. You've been trying to protect her for years haven't you?" "Yes, ever since our mother died. I hadn't realised what Mother had done until I had to do it. I was being dragged down by her reckless behaviour, she had absolutely no inhibitions and would have sex with anyone who took her fancy. She didn't care if it was with a male or female and age wasn't an issue, I caught her having oral sex with someone who must have been at least eighty. And when this happened I didn't know what to do or who to turn to. You are a wonderful person for helping me." It was a different, casually dressed and chatty, Loretta Martin who sat opposite me in a booth at Lorenzo's Pizzeria. In front of us was a half eaten Pizza Supreme and a bottle of Chianti. "This is so good. I'm enjoying being a normal person for a change and not the uptight stuck up bitch that I had become. And I have you to thank for that." "You were so scared, so vulnerable that I had to do something. I was attracted to you from day one." "You were attracted from the beginning?" "If you really must know, but I think I prefer this Loretta to the one I had the hots for." "Does this mean . . . " "Yes." "And you want to . . ." "Yes." "Your place or mine?" "You choose." "Yours it is." "How fast can you eat?" "Who's hungry," She picked up the half empty Chianti bottle and was heading for the door almost before I'd even stood up. She definitely wasn't a stuck up bitch with her love making. She wasn't as aggressive as Carmen had been, but her inhibitions had disappeared at around the same time as my hand found her breast. Her nipple hardened under my fingers and her tongue pushed harder into my mouth. I had her blouse off and was kissing her breasts in turn while caressing them both at the same time. She was writhing around. "Oh my god, I'm going to . . Oh god this is so good, don't stop. Do you know I never had an orgasm with James. It was all about him, I had to suck him until he was almost ready to come and then he'd put it inside me and shove it in and out a few times before emptying himself into me. Then he'd get off me and go to sleep. I never realised that I could have an orgasm without a cock inside me. Fucking hell I'm coming again!" Everyone Said She Did It "Such language." I pulled her slacks down and removed her panties before stripping myself. She was regaining her breath when I began to kiss her pussy, that started her off again and it wasn't until much later, after I'd come myself, that she calmed down. I had come to realise that both sisters had a wild streak, the difference being that Loretta had suppressed hers while Carmen had allowed hers a free rein. "Do you do this with all of your female clients?" "Hell no! Shit, the soul searching that was involved before I made the decision that I wanted to be with you, not just to fuck you, although I must admit that I'm pleasantly surprised at our performance tonight, this totally went against my principles. Do you realise that you've corrupted me?" "I'm glad, because you've had me doing things that I'd only seen in the movies or read about. Now I think we should shut up and continue corrupting each other." "I agree with you." "Shut up and fuck me."