Cry Rape: The True Story of One Woman's Harrowing Quest for Justice Read Online Free PDF Page B

around their mutual fondness for alcohol. Patty was at this point mainly a weekend drinker; her job required her to get up too early for her to drink during the week.
    But on weekends she would stay at Mark’s place, and they would in-dulge their passion—for inebriation.
    Mark, a short, scrawny man with long, dark hair tied back into a ponytail, owned a large two-flat house on Madison’s east side; he lived downstairs with a male roommate and rented out the upstairs. Recently divorced, Mark was wary about getting into a serious relationship with Patty and had pulled back. Patty suspected that Mark was seeing other women (he denied it), and she was prone to jealousy. In May, Patty had dated another man, Doug, but this ended after two months. Patty’s romantic relationship with Mark never really got back on track, although they did have sexual relations one more time in mid-August, during a weekend getaway to Sheboygan, a small city along the Lake Michigan coast.
    It was Misty who called Mark to let him know what had happened.
    The night before, Mark had been out drinking with his ex-wife’s sister.
    They visited three Madison watering holes and were completely sloshed when they got back to his house after the bars closed. Around 4 a.m.
    they both passed out—he on his bed, she on the floor. That’s where Mark left her several hours later when he got Misty’s call.

    Under Examination
    23
    •
    Patty put on the clean clothes that Misty had brought along. Then they piled into Mark’s van to drive downtown to Madison police headquarters in the City-County Building, the hub of local government. The building, which also contained the courtrooms of Dane County; the offices of the mayor, county executive, and district attorney; and the county jail, is about a block from Lake Monona, the smaller of two lakes that form Madison’s geographic heart. On the isthmus between these two lakes reside the city’s two main attractions, the Capitol and the University of Wisconsin, positioned, like weights on a barbell, on opposite ends of an eight-block artery called State Street.
    The police photographer took pictures of the wounds on Patty’s face, neck, and finger. Like everyone else Patty met that day, he was kind and sympathetic. He expressed his hope that her assailant would be caught. Patty cried, as she had all morning when someone connected with her emotionally.
    Afterward, Mark drove Patty and Misty back to the east side. The plan was for Patty to stay at Mark’s house. But first she had to stop by her place to pick up some clothes and other belongings, and she asked Mark to come along, since she was afraid. Mark, however, said he needed to take care of some things at his place. He didn’t specify that the thing he most needed to take care of was the woman passed out on his floor. He said Misty and Patty should come over later in the van that Patty owned for her vending machine business. But the van was in the auto shop, having just been repaired. So Mark dropped Patty and Misty off at the shop, paid the $415 bill, and hightailed it back to his house.
    Mark roused his guest and told her it was time to get going. Just then a neighbor knocked on Mark’s door, telling him that the engine of his van was smoking. Like the motorist who drives faster to avoid running out of gas, Mark decided he’d better get his drinking companion home before his smoldering van got any worse. He made it only a few blocks before the vehicle broke down. Mark left the woman at a nearby tavern and walked back to his house. Sadly, all of his scheming was for naught: on their way over, Patty and Misty spotted his van on the street and made inquiries of a bystander, who reported seeing the driver and a tall female companion leave on foot.
    Patty’s long, dark hair was down now, and as she stood outside of Mark’s house she combed through it with a brush. To her horror, several large clumps fell out. She remembered then how her rapist had grabbed