Crash Into Me_ A Survivor's Search for Justice - Liz Seccuro [36]
“Hi, you don’t know me, but I was a student at the university and I was raped by a fellow classmate in 1984 at the Phi Kappa Psi house on Madison Lane and I reported it to all of the deans and the university police. Nothing was done. Through the alumni association, this person has made contact with me again and he knows where I live and I … well, I don’t know what to do and I just need … Sir, I think I need your help. He’s been e-mailing me to apologize for the rape and he knows where I live and I am a little concerned. Um, I was told that the Charlottesville police had no jurisdiction over that house, but now I’m not sure and I’m afraid … and well, my name is Liz Seccuro, S-e-c-c-u-r-o, and ah, I live in Greenwich, Connecticut.” I left my number, thinking he would never call me back. He would probably think I was insane. But forty-five minutes later, my office phone rang.
“Is this Liz Seccuro?” Chief Longo asked.
“Yes! Thank you for calling me back!”
“Can you tell me about what’s been going on?”
I gave him a synopsis of what had happened in 1984, what reporting procedures I had been through, the arrival of the letter in September, and what had transpired. He asked if he could see the e-mail correspondence and I agreed readily. He asked if I had notified the Greenwich Police Department, which I had not, and he volunteered to inform them of the situation. He asked questions about the attack itself and how it had been handled. He was charming, polite, strong, and businesslike. I had no idea what was happening, but I kept answering his questions. When I asked, he confirmed that the house on Madison Lane was indeed under CPD jurisdiction and always had been.
“Ma’am, did you realize that there is no statute of limitations on rape in the Commonwealth of Virginia? This person can still be charged with the crime at any time.”
Longo and I exchanged e-mail addresses and he gave me the number of his direct line. I felt safe speaking with him, and I agreed to forward him the e-mail correspondence with Beebe as soon as we hung up. Chief Longo told me that either he or one of his detectives would follow up.
I gathered all of Beebe’s e-mails to me and mine to him and sent them to Chief Longo, along with some of my notes and a narrative regarding the rape itself, including each detail I could recall. Since I had been corresponding with Susan Russell and Courteney Stuart, it did not take long to gather the information that I felt was necessary.
When Mike returned home late that night, I told him about everything—my research, my conversation with the police chief, and what I had sent over. He listened and assured me that it was smart to contact someone and that maybe now I could rest a little easier. He was right. That night I slept for more than five hours for the first time in a long while.
The sun came up as I made coffee and fed Ava breakfast. My day was filled with busywork and e-mails, planning for Christmas dinner and ordering holiday gifts online.
I had just put Ava down for a nap when there was a sharp knock at the door.
Still in velour sweatpants and a messy ponytail, I looked out to see two police officers standing on my porch.
They showed me their Greenwich Police Department badges when I opened the door.
“Good morning, ma’am,” one said. “We have word about your situation from Chief Longo of Charlottesville. He wanted us to come by and get a feel for the house and what’s been happening.”
“Sure,” I said, “come on in.” I offered them coffee and they accepted.
One took out a notepad.
They asked to see the letter and some of the e-mails. They asked me questions about my daily routine. They took a good look around and studied the front and back doors, as well as the side windows and the basement access. They asked if I had a security system. I did not.
My house was the only house at the top of a hill, accessible by one road. If a car was coming up the drive, the driver was either lost or destined for my house. The two officers promised to station a patrol