Doc: The Rape of the Town of Lovell (49 page)

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Authors: Jack Olsen,Ron Franscell

Tags: #Biographies & Memoirs, #True Crime, #Health; Fitness & Dieting, #Psychology & Counseling, #Pathologies, #Medical Books, #Psychology, #Mental Illness

BOOK: Doc: The Rape of the Town of Lovell
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Q Isn't it true that Dr. Story had a standing order that any time the hospital called or another physician called that he was to be contacted immediately?

A Yes.

Q And who generally would go and inform him of that call?

A Usually whoever answered the telephone.

Q And did you ever go to an examination room in response to informing him of a telephone call and found the door locked?

A I cannot tell you I found the door locked because I never touched the door. . . .

Q You talked about [Dr Story's] running to the bathroom.

■ . Can you give us any type of estimate as to the number of times that you have observed this behavior?

A Twice.

Q Did that ever alert your suspicions as to any type of impropriety on his part?

A Not really. We just used to joke
about it-
Implying nothing.

Aarestad's nose crinkled as he returned to the subject of the tissue:

Q It is my understanding that you picked this wad up then and held it to your nose?

A Yes, I did.

Q And can you describe the color of the tissue?

A No.

Q Can you describe the color of the substance that was on the tissue?

A The tissue had absorbed it.

Q So simply what we have is a moist tissue?

A Yes.

Q And it is that moist tissue then that you raised to your nose to smell it?

A Yes.

Q Why did you do that?

A Because I was suspicious.

Q Had you smelled semen before?

A Yes.

Q There was no doubt in your mind whatsoever that's what you smelled?

A None whatsoever. . . .

Q Do you know during this period of time whether Dr. Story ever did any sperm counts in his office?

A No.

Tharp took the witness on redirect:

Q ... When you were asked questions by Mr. Aarestad about the color of the tissue, do you remember whether it was light or dark?

Mr. Aarestad
Asked and answered.

The Court
Sustained.

Q
(By
Mr. Tharp) You
said in response to Mr. Aarestad's question one of the reasons you quit was because you started your business?

A Yes.

Mr. Aarestad
May we approach the Bench, Your Honor?

The Court You may.

Mr. Tharp I
am going to object to these Bench conferences.

TESTIMONY

The Court (at the bench
) Counsel, confine your remarks to the Court, not anything to the jury.

Mr. Aarestad
Your Honor, the answer that in my opinion is being elicited is a very dangerous one. It is because of the problems that she was having with the Medical Board at that time, and again I have to state it for the record that I believe that the Prosecution is attempting to set the stage for a mistrial through this examination. He knows that is the answer that is coming.

Mr. Tharp
Well, Your Honor, I won't ask the question. I apologize to the Court for flying off the handle, but it seems that we have been having an inordinate number of Bench conferences. But—well, I'm not going to ask any more questions of her. ... I will simply leave her alone.

Then the county attorney announced, "The State rests." It was 3:30
p.m
. on Tuesday, April 9, 1985, the sixth day of trial. The defense estimated that its case would take two weeks.

395

75

REX NEBEL

Denial, O my Senators, takes a random shape.

—Tess Gallagher,
The Woman Who Raised Goats

He was a complex man of thirty-seven—rebellious, compassionate, idealistic—but what was going on in the courtroom made him just plain angry. Friends said he looked like Grizzly Adams, with bronze and silver hair curling gently over his ears apd a thicket of facial hair and a body as strong as a young bison's. For more years than he liked to remember, he'd clanked when he walked, as a Lovell cop, a Big Horn County undersheriff, and a beer-swilling amphetamine-popping skull-cracking biker. Nowadays his major vice was chewing on Swisher Sweet cigars and smoking cigarillos.

Dr. Story and the Lovell Bible Church and Rex's own God-loving wife Cheryl had turned his life around. A year before the trial, he'd run a three-wheeler through a fence and Dr. Story had put him back together. Now they were like uncle and nephew, so close that the title "doctor" had begun to sound too formal for their relationship. At Marilyn's suggestion, Rex and Cheri started referring to him as "Doc," though never to his face. He was particular about his name and title. "It's my enemies who first-name me," he said. But Marilyn insisted that it was cumbersome to refer to him to their friends as "Dr. Story," and the compromise "Doc" had stuck.

From the beginning, both Nebels had felt that only a moron could believe the accusations against their beloved Doc. But as Rex liked to point out, the words "Mormon" and "moron" were only a letter apart. His LDS dad once told him, "Son, if you believe all the bullshit that you hear in the Mormon church, you're not as smart as I think you are. Stick with the Methodists like your mom. I'll go with you on Christmas."

Rex worked at a bentonite plant and helped Cheri raise their two boys in a small wooden house just off the highway at the east end of town. On the side, he sold Freedom Fireworks. It was a comedown. His pioneer ancestors had homesteaded a ranch at the confluence of the Shoshone and Big Horn rivers, but a half century later the government confiscated the spread for a park. "They lied to my father," Rex fumed. "From the handshake to the signatures, there were ten thousand lies."

Sometimes he soothed his unrest by hiking deep into the woods, not far from the old family farm, and just listening. "I go there at two in the morning, climb a tree, lay up and listen to the coyotes. It's something to be outside with everything around you alive— owls calling, foxes padding by. People think you're not supposed to be that free. It's my medicine."

Ever since the start of the trial, Rex had worked the midnight shift so he could watch over Doc in the daytime. He was assisted in his unofficial security job by a rangy old Big Horn deputy sheriff named Jack Doolan, "Deulin' Doolan" to his friends, who worked all night and protected Dr. Story all day without pay. As a deputy, Doolan could carry a gun into the courtroom. Since resigning as undersheriff, Rex had had to make do with a blackjack.

As Doc's courtroom ordeal went into its second week, Rex and some of the other Story supporters approached flash point. There'd been more slanted articles in the Casper
Star-Tribune
and the Billings
Gazette.
Diana Harrison's turncoat testimony outraged everyone on Doc's side. Rex had already been involved in one near-fight and several spitting matches. He'd spotted the claque of accusers chatting with Dave Wilcock in a basement room. "What the hell are you doing?" he yelled through the open door to his former law-enforcement colleague. "Discussing Dr. Story's case? You know you're not supposed to do that. You pigs make me sick. You call this a trial?"

When the police chief turned his broad back, Rex excoriated him till the door slammed. "Fat swine," was the nicest term he used.

Then he ran into an elderly relative who'd been sitting on the wrong side of the courtroom and cueing some of the witnesses. "What was all that headshaking about?" Rex asked.

"I was rooting," the woman said. "Yes, I'm for the victims, Rex. I've known Wanda all my life."

Rex said, "Does that justify you telling her how to answer, you stupid thing?"

At the end of the sixth day of trial, some of the Story people were picking their way down the steep steps when a flushed Bill Fischer made a subtle move toward Doc. Rex knew the guy. His wife Mae had testified earlier in the day—the usual bullshit about Doc abusing her but she hadn't mentioned it for ten or twenty years. Bill had been shooting off his mouth at the bentonite plant about punching Doc out, but no one took him seriously.

Rex made a head signal to Duelin' Doolan and the two guardians moved in. "It looked like Fischer was getting ready to throw Doc down the stairs," Rex told Cheri later. "I grabbed my Texas blackjack, and I'm thinking, I'm gonna brain this guy. If he touches Doc, I'm gonna choke him out, ya know? Doolan and 1 just kinda shoved Fischer out the back door. I said, 'Go ahead, make your move, sucker! Come on! I'll kill ya!' Fischer turned red, and he walked off like he didn't hear me."

Later Rex challenged Fischer to a fight at the plant. "I was just screaming at him," he told his approving wife. " 'Ooo
-oooh\
I want
you out here!' I said, 'You lie, your mother's a liar, your wife's a liar! I want you outside with me in the gravel right now, 'cause you are a liar and your family's a liar and you're doing nothing but ruining this man!'"

In Rex's recounting of the incident, Fischer backed down again, and Rex finished him off by saying, "That little move you pulled

REX NEBEL

399

over in the courthouse damn near got yourself killed. You're not messin' with kids on the block. You're messin' with a professional police officer and an ex-cop. I came
that
close to braining you. Stand clear of Dr. Story!
Stay off his back or I'll waste ya!"
Rex figured that took care of one more wimp.

76

MARILYN STORY

Driving toward the courthouse in their maroon air-conditioned '72 Chrysler, John nonchalantly mentioned that his accusers had told so many lies that he'd stopped passing notes to his lawyers. "Thousands of lies," he told her. "I can't keep up with them."

As a listed witness for the defense, Marilyn was excluded from the courtroom, and in his usual way, John hadn't been keeping her informed. But she'd heard enough to realize that there were problems. Terry Tharp had allowed John's lawyers to spend months preparing a conspiracy defense, then double-crossed the defense by dropping Minda and Meg and bringing in three non-LDS accusers-The only approach left was an all-out attack on the imperfections in the state's case, plus a parade of impressive character witnesses, of whom she would be first.

Her faith in the procedure was weakening. A few days earlier, she'd written in her journal: "I don't feel able to pray effectively any more, but we thought of the Lord Jesus as he stood before his accusers and false witnesses."

And still John acted unconcerned! From the beginning, he'd refused to believe that God would allow a good Christian to be punished unjustly.

His relatives had phoned to ask if they could attend the trial, and John had told them, "Stay home. It's a big nuisance—nothing." The Nebraska folks were still hurt about being kept in the dark at the twenty-fifth anniversary dinner, but John explained, "We didn't want to spoil the party for you. All doctors go through things like this."

His busy old bachelor uncle, still running the family store in Maxwell and playing an astute hand in the stock market, had told him, "Every cent I have is yours, John. From here on out I'll live on my social security." At the time, it had seemed like a symbolic gesture, but the total lawyers' fees had now passed the six-figure mark; if John was convicted and had to seek vindication in the higher courts, Uncle Howard's offer might have to be accepted.

Marilyn had spent so many days of deep anxiety that she was almost relieved to be sworn in. Wayne had stressed that her testimony could turn things around for the defense. Above all, she mustn't appear arrogant or vengeful. She was the dignified wife of a dignified physician, and she was there to draw admiration and respect, to convince the jurors of John's innocence, and to evoke their sympathy. It was no accident that one of his first questions was, "And I assume you have a deceased child?"

"Yes," she answered. She didn't have to fake a look of sadness. She'd mourned Annette for twenty years. She gulped and said, "We lost a little girl in an accident when she was two years old."

The lawyer asked a series of questions about the family, including what her children were doing now (Susan was a registered nurse in Fort Collins, Colorado, and Linda was taking her master's degree at the University of Maryland), where she was from, and what she did at the office. He spent ten minutes getting her to describe the exact layout of the office so that he could argue later that John would have been caught if he'd been abusing women in an examining room. Then:

Q During the sixteen years that you worked full-time and the preceding years on which you worked a part-time basis, did you ever observe anything unusual about your husband's behavior that caused you any suspicions about improprieties with female patients?

A Absolutely not.

Q Did you ever observe your husband rushing from this room to either of these bathrooms with ruffled hair?

A No, I haven't.

Q Have you ever observed him rushing from this room to any of these bathrooms with red ears?

A No. . . .

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