Date Rape New York Read Free Page A

about last night, and you had sex—this all tells me that you went somewhere and you either drank too much alcohol or somebody put an amnesiac drug in your drink. Then a man brought you here and took advantage of you.”
    “I only drink one glass of wine.” Grazia closed her eyes. This wasn’t happening.
    “Then you were drugged. Possibly Rohypnol. We had trouble with that drug in some local bars a few years ago. Have you ever heard of “roofies,” “rope,” or “roaches”?
    Grazia shook her head, bewildered.
    “Men use Rohypnol to drug women so they won’t remember being raped,” Stanley explained. “Alcohol alone will cause memory loss if you drink enough.”
    Grazia forced herself to concentrate. “I told you. One glass of wine.”
    “One glass of wine with Rohypnol in it and your memory is gone, and so is your resistance. It’s called drug-facilitated sexual assault. You need to report it.”
    “Drug what?”
    “Drug-facilitated sexual assault, Miss Conti. DFSA. Date rape.” Stanley’s quiet, deep voice remained patient. “Nonconsensual sex. After you were drugged, you weren’t operating at full mental capacity. You couldn’t give your legal consent to have sex. That makes it rape. You need to report it to the police.”
    Sophia was back with the paper bags. Dazed, Grazia watched Stanley use his pen to lift her jeans and red silk shirt. He dropped them into a bag. “I’m writing the time and date and signing my name on the bag,” he said. “The same with the towels. If the police decide this is drug-facilitated, they will send these to the medical examiner to get the perpetrator’s DNA. Your vomit on the towel will contain the drug.” He set the bags by the door and pulled the chair closer to her bed. He spoke quietly and earnestly.
    “I was a cop for thirty years, Miss Conti. Now that I’ve retired into private security, my job is to protect the patrons and reputation of the Hotel Fiorella. We’re situated near the East Village, which is a nightlife area. I can’t have our guests being sexually assaulted when they go out for a drink. Let me notify the police.”
    “No police.” Naples police could be as corrupt as its criminals.
    “Consider other women, Miss Conti. Men who drug women for sex do it again and again. Why? Because their victims don’t report the assault. Help the police apprehend this perpetrator, Miss. Then he can’t drug and rape other women.”
    “No police. Go away. I need to sleep.” She had no energy to think about other women. She wanted this waking nightmare to go away. Sleep would do that.
    Stanley leaned forward earnestly. “Two years ago, before I retired, my partner and I arrested a few bartenders taking money to drug women’s drinks. After that, the drug-facilitated reports in our precinct dropped to nearly none. File a report, Miss. The NYPD will nip this date-rape drugging in the bud.”
    “What could I tell the police?” she said, desperately. “I had sex and I don’t remember anything! Not where I went, not who I was with, not what I did—nothing!” She put her hands over her face and groaned.
    “You might remember something—anything small might help a detective open an investigation. Rape is the most underreported violent crime in America. Only about one in six women reports an attack. Fight back, Miss Conti. Protect other women from this man.” He sat back in frustration and looked at Sophia.
    Sophia shook her shoulder. “Wake up, Grazia! You need to see a doctor right away . What if this man gave you a disease?” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “What if you are pregnant?”
    Horror struck. Grazia was wide-awake now. “Pregnant?”
    “Go to the emergency room and let a doctor check you over,” urged Stanley, seeing they had her attention. “Beth Israel Hospital is near here. They have special nurses and counselors who help women who have been raped.”
    Grazia clung to Sophia’s hand. “Will you come with me?” she