A Broken Judicial System the Power of Unsubstantiated Accusation , livre ebook

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163 pages

English

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Victor Cuevas shares what happens when you’ve been accused of a sex crime—even after a jury of peers declares you to be innocent.
In 2005, Victor Cuevas was falsely accused of raping a thirteen-year-old girl.
Even though he was acquitted of all charges three years later, his life has never been the same. In this book, he looks back at the fight he waged to clear his name.
Athough he did not know it at the time, the author’s nightmare began Aug. 23, 2005, when he visited a resort for a relaxing overnight getaway with his girlfriend. Five weeks later, he was arrested after a thirteen-year-old girl claimed he took her to the same resort during the same timeframe and sexually assaulted her.
The police marched into the middle school where he worked and escorted him out of the building in handcuffs—in front of students, peers, and the news media. They didn’t tell him what he had allegedly done wrong.
In this account, the author reveals how teenage angst between two people turned into a false accusation of rape. He also shares a stark account of what happens when you’ve been accused of a sex crime—even after a jury of peers declares you to be innocent.

Sujets

Trust in God

True Crime

Playing God

Drama

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Publié par	iUniverse
Date de parution	15 juin 2023
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781663250896
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0200€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

A BROKEN JUDICIAL SYSTEM:

THE POWER OF UNSUBSTANTIATED ACCUSATION

VICTOR CUEVAS

A BROKEN JUDICIAL SYSTEM: THE POWER OF UNSUBSTANTIATED ACCUSATION

Copyright © 2023 Victor Cuevas.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-6632-5090-2 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-6632-5091-9 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-6632-5089-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023903458

iUniverse rev. date: 06/13/2023

CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty

To the one who stood by me in my darkest times and never let me go.
We live in a world filled with imperfections—with a judicial system that often fails the average person, where we don’t always know who we can trust. In 2005, I was falsely accused of raping a thirteen-year-old girl. Three long years later, I was acquitted of all charges. This is my journey through those dark times, when I had only my family and faith to keep me going. Share with me everything that was done and, more importantly, what was not done as I battled our city and state judicial systems.
This is a true event that haunts me to this day. All named individuals in this book were part of the process, and their actual words can be found in the court transcripts of my trial. In a few instances, the names have been omitted or changed, as there is no one to verify the authenticity of a specific statement or two. Since 2005, some of the individuals have relocated to begin new lives, some have retired, and one or two have died. What is most important to remember is that these events happened to me. This is not fiction. All documented court proceedings are readily available as public information.

CHAPTER

ONE
MAN MAKES PLANS, AND GOD LAUGHS

A Connecticut resort advertises itself as an “experience like no other.” On August 23, 2005, I visited the resort for a relaxing overnight getaway with my girlfriend, and that’s exactly what it turned out to be. Or, at the very least, a nightmare like no other.
Five weeks later, I was arrested based on charges stemming from a then thirteen-year-old female (who will only be identified as Jane), who claimed that I had taken her to the same resort during the same time frame and had sexually assaulted her.
On October 5, 2005, at 10:00 a.m., I was picked up by the Waterbury, Connecticut, police at the middle school where I worked and taken to the police precinct in town. My job as a prevention specialist entailed dealing with students and police officers regularly, sometimes as a prevention specialist, sometimes as a negotiator, sometimes as a consultant, and sometimes as a buffer, but at all times as a doorway or pathway between the students and what was happening in their lives, their families, and their communities.
That morning, I was in my office trying to de-escalate a potential fight. Seeing two officers walk in created no stress or alarm on my part, as the students often told me about any up-and-coming problems, and I collaborated with the police to offset potential issues. But the police weren’t there for any students at the school. They were there for me.
They offered no explanation as to what they wanted, other than I needed to come down to the station with them. I was handcuffed, escorted out of the building in front of students, peers, and the news media, and told I would be released if I complied.
Twelve hours later, I still had no idea why I was at the police station and no indication of what was going on. The only thing I kept being asked was if I knew “Jane.” At that time, I recognized a couple of young officers from the neighborhood and asked them what was happening. But no one would or could tell me anything, and I was not allowed to leave. I remained in custody, completely isolated in a small room. Repeatedly, I asked what was happening or what the charges were and was ignored.
Regardless of what the police drama shows portray on TV, real life is very different. Not even one phone call was allowed while I was there. Although the police officers involved attested under oath that I had only been held two to four hours, it actually was a ten- to twelve-hour span. I had no idea why I was being held and unable to communicate with everyone about my situation. No family. No friends. No lawyer.
A police station is a busy place, and I could hear bits and pieces of what was happening outside my four walls. One thing I’ll never be able to forget is a detective’s directive to “Find me a witness. Make me a witness. If you can’t find one, make one because this m … f … is going to jail tonight!”
A so-called witness was found that evening, and I was officially arrested a few hours later. I was later charged with two counts of sexual assault in the second degree, one count of sexual assault in the first degree, and one count of risk of injury or impairing the morals of a minor. I was held in jail for fourteen days before family and friends were able to help raise my $750,000 bond.
The following describes my living hell over the next three years—the lies, the losses, and the repercussions that followed, all because proven police techniques were not followed. Because standard DNA testing was not performed. Because no notes or recordings were taken or provided from the time I was brought in for questioning at the police station. Because key prosecution witnesses were allowed to change their testimony time and time again. Because defense testimony was never corroborated. Because timing issues were ignored. Because a state prosecutor cared more about closing cases than finding the truth. Because there was a teenage substory that the state chose to ignore.
To quote William Gaddis, “Justice? You get justice in the next world. In this world you have the law.” And on October 5, 2005, the law determined that I was guilty and was going to jail. Guilty until proven innocent.
Fortunately, the jury got it right. On April 5, 2008, three years later, a jury exonerated me on all charges. The media was still following my case, and the headlines read, “Recreation Director Cleared.” But that didn’t get me back the years I lost with my family, my home, my financial stability, my friends, and my career. People I knew and trusted turned against me. My family and I had lived under the threat of my imprisonment for three years. Although I was vindicated on all charges, I want to be very clear that you never fully recover from such accusations. The cost is too high. We all paid a price. It took a huge toll.
In 2005, I was a single father of three boys, then eighteen, fourteen, and thirteen, and they were removed from my care. I lost my home and my cars. People I considered friends turned away. It was hard to determine who believed in me and who did not.
I had worked hard to provide love, peace, and safety for my boys, but they were removed from my home by the Department of Children and Families (DCF). I had just gone through an expensive custody battle, and the state had named me the primary custodial parent. Losing them after a three-court battle was heartbreaking, leading to many years of mental health challenges for all of us.
Because of the pending charges, I was no longer able to work at the middle school, nor as a part-time adjunct professor at a nearby college, where I taught a variety of subjects, including marketing, entrepreneurship, business law, and end-user computer classes. My job as recreation center director for the city of Waterbury was changed to a desk job.
I lost everything in order to pay for my bond and legal defense for the trial. For three years, I lived in my mother’s home, sleeping on her couch. I locked myself in her house, basically leaving only once a day to attend Catholic mass at the Immaculate Conception Church in Waterbury. I rarely ventured out because I didn’t know who supported me. Once, I remember seeing a friendly face as I ran into a teacher from the middle school where I had been arrested. I attempted to say hello, and she put up her hand, indicating I should stop where I was, called me a monster, and walked away. Although technically I was free pending trial, I was not free. It was a terrible time.
My attorney, Martin Minnella, specialized i