Investigation Evidence Tag Number 133355678345 dash 452948. The disk
was decoded by the cryptography division of the FBI National Crime
Laboratory in Washington, D.C and was received at Los Angeles Police
Department Headquarters, this morning, 6:~~ A.M via government pouch.
Once I start, I’m going to read it in its entirety, even if you choose
to leave the room with your client, Counselor. In order to make it
clear that this evidence was offered to you and you declined to hear
it.
Understood?
MR. TOKARIK: We exercise all of our rights without prejudice.
MR. JONES: Read on, Detective. I’m intrigued.
bET. STURGIS: Here goes: I’m putting this in code to protect myself
but it’s not a complicated code, just a basic substitution-numbers for
letters with a couple of reversals, so you should be able to handle
that, Ashmore. And if something’s happened to me, have fiin with it.
Charles Lyman Jones the Third, known as Chip, is a ø monster.
He came to my high school as a volunteer tutor and seduced me sexually
and emotionally. This was ten years ago. I was seventeen and a senior
and in the honors program in math, but I needed help with English and
Social Sciences because I found it boring. He was twenty-eight and a
graduate student. He seduced me and we had sex repeatedly over a
six-month period at his apartment and at the school, including
activities that I found personally repulsive. He was frequently
impotent and did sick things to me in order to arouse himself
Eventually, I got pregnant and he said he’d marry me. We never got
married, just lived together in a dive near the University of
Connecticut, at Storrs. Then it got worse.
1. He didn’t tell his family about me. He kept another apartment in
town and went there whenever his father came to visit.
2. He started to act really crazy. Doing things to my body-putting
drugs in my drinks and sticking me with needles when I was sleeping.
At first I wasn’t sure what was happening, used to wake up with marks
all over, feeling sore. He said I was anemic and it was
petechiaebroken capillaries due to pregnancy’. Since he told me he’d
been pre-med at Yale, I believed him. Then one time I woke up and
caught him trying to inject me with something brown and
disgusting-looking-I’m sure now it was feces. Apparently he hadn’t
given me enough dope to put me out, or maybe I’d become hooked and
needed more to pass out. He explained the needle by saying it was all
for my good-some kind of organic vitamin tonic.
I was young and I believed all his lies. Then it got too weird and I
left and tried to live with my mother but she was drunk all the time
and wouldn’t take me in. Also, I think he paid her off, because right
around then she got lots of new clothes. So I went back to him and the
more pregnant I got, the meaner and more vicious he got. One time he
pulled a really hysterical fit and told me the baby would ruin
everything between us and that it had to go.
Then he claimed it wasn’t even his, which was ridiculous because I was
a virgin when I met him and never fooled around with anyone else.
Eventually, the stress he put me through made me miscarry. But that
didn’t make him happy either, and he kept sneaking up on me when I was
sleeping, shouting in my ear and sometimes sticking me.
I was getting fevers and bad headaches and hearing voices and becoming
dizzy. For a while I thought I was going crazy.
I finally left Storrs and went back to Poughkeepsie.
He followed me and we had a real screaming fit in Victor Waryas ark.
Then he gave me a check for ten thousand dollars and told me to get out
of his life and stay there.
That was a lot ofmoney to me at the time and I agreed. I was feeling
too down and screwed up to work, so I got out on the street and got
ripped off and ended up marrying Willie Kent, a black guy who pimped