Two months before the trial, Tracey sat at her desk in her investment banking office and stared at a manila folder in her hands. She accidentally picked up the file from Jasper’s desk on the day of the arrest when Laura unexpectedly walked into Jasper’s office. Tracey was unaware she had the file for months. Tracey opened the file and read it again as she had done dozens of times before.
“In the account of Jasper Cunningham . . . Danske Swiss PLC Account number 6548A2, six hundred million three hundred thousand dollars.”
Tracey was unaware Jasper illegally laundered funds for his clients. She now believed the legal charges were founded.
“How could he keep this from me? What kind of man is he? Oh my god, I was going to kill for him. What kind of woman am I?”
Tracey closed the file and held her head in her hands. It was after 10:00 pm. She took the elevator down to the Park Avenue side of the building and hailed a taxicab to her condominium located ten minutes away. Although her apartment was nearby, her energy levels diminished after she first spoke with the district attorney’s office earlier in the month. She was subpoenaed to testify for the government at Jasper’s trial. The district attorney called her in to rigorously prepare for the testimony over the course of the past two days. As defense attorney, Jasper knew Tracey was on the witness list for the prosecution, and he further ostracized her from him.
The taxi arrived at Tracey’s apartment. She paid the $6.40 fare with a $10 bill and exited. As the taxi pulled off, she walked into her building lobby. Her doorman was watching the Mets baseball game on a six-inch-screen television.
“Good evening, Ms. Bodden.”
“Good evening, Dan.”
Tracey pressed the elevator button and arrived at the twenty-sixth floor. She put the key in the door, dropped her briefcase on the foyer table, and closed the door. Tracey was not a big eater, but she needed to have dinner since she skipped lunch. She opened a bottle of Pinot Grigio, put a seasoned salmon steak in the oven, and reached for a bag of prepared salad from the refrigerator.
The apartment was dimly lit, reflective of Tracey’s emotions, and she wanted to keep it that way. She was depressed, thus the mood in the apartment felt appropriate. She had not called her cleaning lady in weeks, and the fresh floral arrangement she usually kept on her dining table was dry and wilted. Tracey entered the bathroom and ran a jasmine essence bath. She undressed in the bathroom and got into the bathtub with her glass of wine as the salmon steak roasted. While in the tub, the doorbell to the apartment door rang. Who on earth is that? she thought. She paused and figured it was Ellen down the hall.
Tracey stepped out of the tub dripping wet and put on her terrycloth robe that was hung on the back of the bathroom door. She entered her living room, and to her surprise, the apartment door started to open, and two men entered. Tracey did not know these men. She screamed and ran toward the phone. One of the men dashed behind her, grabbed her right leg, and she fell to the floor. The second man spoke, “We are not here to hurt you, Tracey. Your boyfriend Jasper has a significant sum of money that he stole from my uncle’s company, and I am here to find out where he put the cash.”
“I can’t help you,” Tracey said in a courageous voice. Tracey struggled to get away. She was still wet from her bathwater and was trying to slip through his grip. “Why would you come to me?”
“You are his investment banker and his mistress. You could provide him with many alternatives to benefit the two of you.”
“Well, you are wrong. I don’t have any information or knowledge of your money.”
At the same time, the first man who was holding down Tracey’s legs slapped her in the face splitting her lip. She cried out and held her bleeding mouth.
“Why are you doing this to me? I don’t know anything,” she cried.
“Tie her up,” said the second man. They grabbed a kitchen chair and sat Tracey on the chair. She wrestled, but her efforts were in vain. The struggle caused her loosely tied robe to open, revealing her naked body.
“You are a pretty enticing woman,” the first man gloated.
“Leave her alone,” said the second man. “We are here to obtain information on my family’s money.”
“Yeah, but look at that body,” hankered the first man.
“Go to hell,” Tracey shouted. With those words, the first man slapped her again in the face. Tracey’s lip was now bleeding at a steady pace. She licked the blood from her lip. He tied her to the chair with string and placed silver electric tape on her busted mouth.
The second man began to search the apartment rummaging through Tracey’s bookcases and drawers. He entered Tracey’s office and turned on her computer.
“What’s your password?” shouted the second man from the adjacent room.
“I just taped her mouth down. She can’t talk.”
“Well, take off the goddamn tape and have her answer!” The first man ripped off the tape, and Tracey shrieked in pain. He put his fist to her mouth.
“I’ll only ask you once for the password. If it doesn’t work, I’ll break your jaw. What is the password?”
“Georgia107,” Tracey replied.
“Georgia107!” he shouted. He replaced the tape on Tracey’s lips and stood over her. He intentionally kept her robe open to view her body. Tracey grimaced at the thought of what he might possibly do to her. She hated Jasper more for subjecting her to this humiliation and harm. She resented the lack of trust and everything she had committed herself to doing for him, for them, for her misconception of their future.
The first man was erect from looking at Tracey’s round smooth nipples, and he touched himself while glaring at her.
“You are a fine piece of ass. You ever been with a real man?” He bent down closer to her face, stuck out his tongue, and slowly licked some of her blood that dripped on her chin.
“See . . . I just want to make you feel better. You just behave yourself, and you won’t cause any more pain.”
He rubbed her right breast with his left hand. His square gold-and-diamond pinky ring sparkled in Tracey’s peripheral vision. Tracey was repulsed by his touch and turned her head away.
“Oh . . .” He closed his eyes. “You feel so soft.” He opened his eyes and looked at Tracey. “Is this how your uppity bastard boyfriend touches you?” He intentionally squeezed her breast harder and harder. Tears ran from her eyes. He pressed his hand on his erection that was protruding from the crotch of his pants quite visibly. Tracey feared his next move.
“Your little jailbird boyfriend has done this to you. Not me.” Tracey looked at him in disgust.
“Yeah . . . that’s right . . . look at me, you fine piece of pussy . . . with those fiery eyes.” He rubbed himself with a pulsating rhythm while gripping Tracey’s breasts.
“Oh yes. You are sweet. You want to suck me, baby? You want to suck me?” He unzipped his pants to reveal his large sweaty erection. Tracey was struggling to free herself from bondage; her arms still tied to the chair and her mouth taped.
He whispered in her ear. “See . . . if I take this tape off your mouth to give you a taste, you might just like it. But you also might scream and disturb my partner in the other room. You foxy, cocoa piece of pussy. You will like it though. Oh yes, cocoa. You will like it.”
The second man continued searching Tracey’s computer drives for any information that might reveal the location of the bank accounts. He was unaware of the horrific scene transpiring in the other room.
“I can’t have you scream. See . . . my boss in there will get pissed off at me. But I know what he doesn’t know—that you want me,” he smirked as he was sexually aroused and wanted Tracey in a brutal way.
Tracey’s eyes grew wider, and she shook her head indicating no. He roughly squeezed both of her breasts, and she jerked away. He became angry and punched her in the nose. Tracey’s lip and nose were now bleeding.
“You see? You like that, don’t you? Oh . . . I see, you want it rough.” Then he whispered in her ear, “Come on, keep resisting. Make Manny happy.”
Manny kissed her bloody nose where it dripped. He licked the blood and rubbed his tongue on her nipples. He thereafter sucked the blood off her nipples with a gripping suction that made Tracey push her head back.
“See . . . just calm down and let me take care of you. Jasper . . . that fuck . . . never took care of you. He couldn’t take care of . . . he couldn’t take care of a feisty woman like you.”
Manny stepped back for a moment and dropped his pants and boxer shorts to around his ankles.
“Now, relax, let me take care of you, cocoa.” Manny became violent again. He slapped Tracey over and over again. He untied her from the chair, but her wrists remained tied behind her back and her mouth taped. He threw her onto the floor. Tracey kicked him incessantly as she tried to crawl away from him on her back. He grabbed both of her legs simultaneously and forcefully held them apart. She tried to break away, but he was overpowering. He kneeled on the floor between her legs, grasping the flesh of her thighs in his hands to keep her legs apart.
“Cocoa, your pussy looks so sweet . . . clean-shaven and smooth. Just like a little girl. You know you want me little girl—rough and wild.”
He continued to grab her thighs so hard he dug into her flesh. He used his legs to help keep her legs spread apart. He grabbed her right leg over his shoulder and jammed himself inside of her. She was tight and dry, and he tore her. Tracey shook her head side to side and cried in agony. Manny slapped her again as he raped her brutally, forcing himself inside of her, ensuring every inch of his sweaty body was banging inside of Tracey. He pushed and pushed harder and harder, and Tracey continued to cry. He punched her hard in the face and broke the bridge of her nose. Tracey fainted. He continued to rape her while she was unconscious. Her wrists were tied and mouth gagged. He flipped Tracey around on her stomach and forced himself into her buttocks tearing her there also.
“Oh my, cocoa,” he said as he brutally raped Tracey. She was bleeding all over him still unconscious.
“Don’t you enjoy this?” But no reply. “I bet your uppity bourgeois bastard never gave it to you so good.”
The second man walked into the room.
“Manny, you fucking animal,” he screamed. “What the fuck are you doing? What the fuck did you do?”
Manny withdrew from inside Tracy who was facedown and limp on the floor.
“Sol, she asked me for some.” He pulled up his underwear and pants.
“You son of a bitch! Is she alive? What the fuck! I knew I shouldn’t have brought your street ass along with me.”
“Sol, come on. Did you see her clean-shaven cunt . . . those breasts? Why don’t you take a piece too?”
“You crazy son of a bitch! Check to see if she is breathing.”
Manny bent down and turned Tracey over.
“Yeah, she’s breathing,” said Manny as he looked at her naked body. Tracey was still unconscious. “Damn you, Sol. I didn’t even get to come inside her pretty cocoa ass.”
“Stop your crazy bullshit! We are here for a purpose, you crazy fuck! I need to find where my uncle’s money is located! Goddammit, control yourself, you asshole! Now get some water and wake her up!”
Manny went to the kitchen and ran a cup full of cold water. He walked over to Tracey and splashed it on her face. But no reply.
“Shake her,” said Sol. Manny shook Tracey’s head from side to side yet still no reply.
“You fucking idiot! What did you do? Get some more water!”
Manny refilled the cup with cold water and slowly splashed it on Tracey’s face. She awakened. Sol pulled the electric tape off Tracey’s mouth. She was barely coherent.
“Look . . . don’t scream,” said Sol. “I couldn’t find anything on your computer. Tell me what you know, where the money is, or I will let my partner loose on you . . . for hours if necessary. And he will fuck you and beat your ass the entire time, if necessary. He’s mad at me because I stopped him.”
Tracey did not respond. She was not completely aware of what was transpiring.
“OK. I will leave. I will come back in three hours. My buddy here is going to stay. I am not sure what he is capable of, but if I exit that front door, a broken nose and a busted lip will not be your only problem.”
Tracey feared for her life. She screamed out in a weakened cry, “It’s in my briefcase in the foyer.”
“Manny, imagine that. She has answers! Perhaps your dick is a truth serum.” The two men laughed.
Tracey surmised that once the men received the information, they would kill her. Therefore, she believed it was her last opportunity to be saved, so she screamed as loud as she could, “Help me!”
“What the fuck is wrong with you, bitch?” asked Manny. He pulled out a .38-millimeter gun and knocked Tracey in the temple with the handle. She passed out again.
“Damn, Manny!” shouted Sol. “Couldn’t you wait until I found the documents?”
Sol searched Tracey’s briefcase and found the manila folder with the bank account information.
“Jack . . . fucking . . . pot,” exclaimed Sol. “Let’s go.”
“No, let me pop her in the head. She’s going to ID us,” said Manny.
“We did not come here to kill her. That was not part of the job. Besides, I doubt it. She was in on this shit too.”
“Then let’s get the fuck outta here,” said Manny. “Who knows who the fuck heard that bitch’s scream.”
The men entered the back staircase and left the building.
An hour later, Tracey regained consciousness. She awoke in a daze with blood all over her body. She slowly recalled what had happened. Her apartment smelled of smoke. She crawled to her door and screamed in a weak voice, “Someone . . . please help me.” At the same time, her smoke detector alarmed. Her salmon steak was burning. Her neighbors heard and ran to her aid.
“Tracey! Oh no . . . oh my god . . . someone call 911!” shouted her neighbor Ellen.
The ambulance arrived within ten minutes and rushed Tracey to the hospital. Although she was badly beaten, she was conscious. She suffered a concussion, broken nose, and needed stitches on her top lip, vagina, and anal wall. She had deep bruises on her inner thighs, and both of her eyes were black and blue.
As she lay on the hospital bed in the emergency room area, a man spoke from the other side of the curtain.
“Tracey Bodden, I am Detective Anthony Shaw. May I speak with you?”
Detective Shaw pushed back the curtains that surrounded her. He entered and closed the curtains behind him. “I am so sorry for what happened to you tonight. Ms. Bodden, I can only suspect how difficult it is for you to speak. I’d like to ask you some questions about the incident. I will try to ask only ‘yes or no’ questions. A shake or a nod will due.”
“First, I’d like to know whether you would like a female officer to join us.” Anxious to get the questioning over with, Tracey shook her head indicating she did not.
After the detective finished his questioning, Tracey fell asleep for several hours. But when she awoke, unbeknownst to the hospital staff, Tracey exited the hospital at 11:00 am the next morning. She was barely able to walk, and her speech was slurred. Her face was bruised, swollen, and revealed bandages that covered her stitches. She hailed a taxi and headed to Riker’s Island to confront Jasper.
Tracey arrived at the visitor’s conference room where Jasper was waiting. Tracey slowly approached Jasper angry and in tears. Other visitors and inmates watched Tracey gradually step past visibly beaten. As Tracey approached Jasper, he stood up in disbelief.
“How could you have this done to me?” she asked.
“Dear god, Tracey, what happened to you?”
“What happened to me?” Tracey’s speech was slurred. “You thieving motherfucking liar. Your mob friends came to my condo last night. They wanted information on money you stole from them.” Tracey cried louder, “I was beaten! I was raped. Oh god, Jasper.” Tracey burst out into tears uncontrollably. Jasper walked over to console her. When he touched her, she became violent punching and kicking Jasper in her weakened state. Jasper attempted to hug her again, ignoring her resistance.
“Get off me!” Tracey pushed him away. “I hate you! I hate you!” she cried. Tracey wept for about five minutes in Jasper’s arms. When she recomposed herself, she realized that she needed to warn Jasper. “They took the file with the bank account information. They know where the money is located. I gave them the file. They were going to kill me.” Jasper stepped back and contemplated Tracey’s words.
Tracey continued. “How could you do this to me? I thought you loved me. We had plans. Plans for a life together,” she cried. “You didn’t protect me from those evil bastards. I could have been killed.”
A corrections officer entered the room.
“Is everything OK in here, ma’am?” the officer asked.
Jasper replied, “We are fine, Officer.”
“I wasn’t talking to you. Ma’am, are you OK?”
Jasper spoke louder, “I said we are fine.”
“Listen, you. Keep your mouth closed before you end up with the general population of prisoners. I heard today that your two partners didn’t fare to well in that ward.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Jasper.
“Your two partners that were arrested with you, Gates and Waddell, they each took a bullet to the head this morning.” The corrections officer walked off pleased that Jasper had not yet known about his partners’ tragic murders.
Tracey shrieked. “Oh my god, this is a nightmare! Jasper, what were you, Jonathan and Mark involved with? Why would this happen? I gave them the account information last night,” she said naïvely. “Why would they continue to pursue. You bastard liar. When were you going to tell me?” she asked in disbelief.
“What . . . what are you saying?” he asked sternly.
“I hate you. I despise you. You are a despicable son of a bitch, liar, and thief. How could I have ever loved you? How did I ever—” Tracey cried more. Jasper walked over to her and put his arms around her to console her. After five seconds, Tracey pushed him off.
“Get off me!” she shouted. “You monster! Get off me!”
The corrections officer returned. “All right, enough over here. Miss, you will have to leave now. Jasper, wait here for us to get a CO to bring you back to your cell.”
“I detest you, Jasper Cunningham,” she said as she walked off. “You are going to get yours, you devil.” Tracey exited the room with the corrections officer. She waited at the top of the aisle to sign out and leave when she heard the officer speaking to a well-dressed woman.
“Hello, Counselor,” said the officer.
“Good day, Officer.”
“You won’t have to wait. Jasper is already in the conference room. He just had a visitor.”
“A visitor? Who may I ask?”
The officer turned to Tracey. “The woman sitting right alongside the wall. She hasn’t left yet.”
Samantha walked over to Tracey.
“Who are you? What affairs do you have with Jasper Cunningham?” asked Samantha.
A battered, frail, and unsteady Tracey stood up. She was barely able to speak.
“I am a reporter,” Tracey lied.
“Guards! Please make sure this reporter or any other reporters do not visit my client again.” Samantha turned to Tracey. “Judging from your bruises, I see you must have tried to get one story too many.”
“Are you new, Counselor?” asked Tracey.
“Get the hell out of here, lady!” exclaimed Samantha who turned her back away and strutted down the hall in her three-inch heels to see Jasper.
Tracey turned away. She clearly understood this woman was more than Jasper’s counsel. Tracey decided to revisit the district attorney’s office to share as much information as possible.
The Wednesday afternoon prior to the trial, Corrections Officer Evans approached Jasper while he was playing chess with another inmate in the game room. Jasper became good friends with him over the course of the ten months. He offered information to Jasper knowing he was a man of power and in the hopes of being compensated for his generosity if Jasper was freed.
“Hey, Jasper. I have to speak with you,” said Corrections Officer Evans.
“I am about to call checkmate on this brother.” Jasper had adopted the jailhouse lingo. “Can it wait?” Jasper asked.
“No, it can’t.”
Jasper rose and walked down the hallway with the corrections officer.
“Is this about my trial tomorrow morning?”
“Well, it’s much deeper.”
“Then stop delaying, what’s going on?”
“It’s your attorney.”
“What? Is Phil asking to get back on the case?”
“No, man.”
“Will you speak up then?”
“It’s the female Latin attorney.”
“Samantha?” Jasper asked uneasily, “What the hell happened to Samantha?”
“Man, you’ve been played.”
Jasper is listening intently. “By whom? What are you talking about?”
“She is on the payroll of the Ignacio family. Word has it that she’s Antonio Ignacio’s whore trying to get back in good with him. Supposedly, they are setting you up.”
“I don’t know who your sources are, but you’re wrong.”
“Hey, man, I’m not asking you on this. One of my COs heard Ignacio’s brother talking about it. He’s locked up in cell block C. Now what the fuck will they even talk about that shit for if it weren’t true?”
Jasper paced in disbelief as he rubbed his temple. Who could he trust?
“Is she an attorney?”
“I heard she is. But she doesn’t work for that law firm you started with. Word has it they visited your former lawyer and threatened him and his family if he didn’t step aside and play ball.”
Jasper’s heart beat rapidly. His veins throbbed. Things were starting to make sense now. It wasn’t really quite clear to him why Phil abandoned him. He suspected it might have been because of Heather, but that had not made sense to him because Phil had known about the affair with Heather for years.
“How much did they offer her?”
“I heard $1 million cool.”
“Anything else?”
“Hey, I just hope that helped.”
“Yes, it does, man. Thanks, and you know I will take care of you on this.” They shook hands.
Samantha was not a typical attorney; she was hired by Antonio Ignacio to learn where Jasper had hidden the $600 million he allegedly embezzled from Ignacio Industries and the Dizilios family. Antonio Ignacio offered her $1 million for information on the correct account location of the funds Jasper stole. But Jasper was offering a lifetime of wealth to Samantha, and she had strong feelings for Jasper and decided that she would benefit more favorably by helping him. She had dual motivation.
Jasper returned to his cell. His bail hearing was in the morning, and he needed to plan his strategy.
The following morning, Jasper entered a crowded courtroom.
“Case number 65789042. The United States against Jasper Anson Cunningham. Judge Michael Hartford presiding. Will the defendant please rise.”
Jasper and Samantha were together at the defendant’s table.
“Your Honor, given the ten months my client has spent in jail thus far, I would like to re-open a request for him to be granted bail.”
“On what grounds, Ms. Santiago?” Judge Hartford harshly remarked.
Prosecutor Charles Wynn jumped up and exclaimed, “Your Honor, this is the first I am hearing about this request. No motion papers have been filed.”
Jasper realized Samantha never took the necessary action to ensure a plea could be made. Judge Hartford responded, “Ms. Santiago, you should have filed the necessary motions. Bail request denied.”
“Your Honor,” Jasper began, “I would like to speak.”
“Ms. Santiago, please advise your client accordingly.”
Samantha looked at Jasper and whispered, “Jasper, what are you doing? What’s on your mind?”
“Don’t you dare say another word out of your mouth on my behalf, lady!”
Addressing Judge Hartford, Jasper continued, “Your Honor, I would like to request that Samantha Santiago be removed from my case effective immediately.”
“Objection, Your Honor,” shouted Prosecutor Wynn. “Is this their strategy to delay the trial?”
“Ms. Santiago, what is this all about?” asked Judge Hartford.
“I don’t know, Your Honor.” Samantha looked at Jasper confused.
“Has your client advised you of his wishes?” asked Judge Hartford.
“No, he has not,” responded Samantha.
“Take a ten-minute recess and talk to your client.” Judge Hartford pounded his gavel.
The court officer escorted Samantha and Jasper to the adjacent case room. Samantha asked the court officer to leave them alone so they could confidentially discuss the case.
“Jasper, what in the hell is going on?”
“You bitch! Who the fuck are YOU to ask ME what is going on? You didn’t even file the fucking motion for bail! You had no intention of getting me out. Are you even a fucking lawyer? You bitch, I should kill you.”
Jasper raced up to Samantha, lunged at her neck, and choked her. Samantha was unable to breathe or scream. Jasper continued to choke Samantha while he shook her neck. Her face turned red. She tried to grab his hands, but she was too weak.
“You bitch! I trusted you with my life!” he exclaimed. Samantha was beet red, and he continued to strangle her with both hands shaking her neck. “You are nothing more than a dirty crook like all the others . . . nothing more than a paid whore!” He threw Samantha by the neck to the ground, freeing her of his choke hold. Samantha held her neck and coughed incessantly.
He walked up to her while she was on the ground coughing. He pulled her halfway up by the hair and pushed his pelvis in her face.
“What do you want? Dick? Money? More dick? More money? Are you fucking the highest bidder?”
Samantha caught her breath and remained silent. She concluded Jasper was aware of her connection to Antonio Ignacio.
“Do you know that I can put your lights out right fucking now?” He formed a fist and lifted his arm to punch Samantha in the jaw but refrained. He threw her back on the ground by her hair.
“Get the fuck off my case! Get the hell out my life! I never want to see you ever again, bitch! And the day that I do, I won’t hold back like I did today. I will kill you!”
Samantha rose. She reached for her leather portfolio with Jasper’s case files.
“You leave that fucking portfolio with my case documents right there. They don’t belong to you. Touch it, and I will break your fucking arm, you little whore.” Samantha started to walk off.
“Tell your boyfriend he’s wrong. I don’t have his money. Did you find any money? Did I ever say anything about his money? Don’t you think you would have learned that by now?”
“Jasper, I started off with that intent, but after we became close, I saw how—”
“Bitch, if you don’t get the fuck out of here right now, I will choke your ass to death.”
Samantha swung open the door, and the door banged against the wall.
Jasper re-entered the courtroom escorted by the court officer.
“Mr. Cunningham, where is your attorney?” asked Judge Hartford.
“Your Honor, I dismissed my attorney.”
“On what grounds?”
“She was conspiring against me. I would like to start proceedings to have her disbarred.”
“Hold tight here. One case at a time,” said Prosecutor Wynn.
“Mr. Cunningham, those are serious allegations,” remarked Judge Hartford.
“I have strong evidence, Your Honor.”
“Are you seeking new representation?”
“I respectfully ask the court for self-representation. Given the sensitivities around my case, I am concerned that I will not secure unbiased representation.”
“Mr. Cunningham, I am offended by your accusation that our legal system cannot produce attorneys who will represent you fairly,” Judge Hartford firmly stated.
“They may exist, Your Honor. However, I’m not in a position to seek unbiased representation.”
“Any objections by the district attorney’s office?”
Prosecutor Wynn knew Jasper lacked formal legal training and experience and anticipated a less challenging trial. “No objections, Your Honor.”
“Your Honor,” said Jasper, “I respectfully request an additional four weeks to prepare my case for trial.”
“Four weeks granted. Case adjourned.” Judge Hartford pounded his gavel. Jasper was escorted back to prison.