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(This relates to a continuing series, An Assault in Venice. Part 1 starts here.)

Before I started publicly blogging about Jeanette and including the gruesome details of her assault from my perspective, I sent her an email. It was a—hey, I’m thinking of writing about this and I want to make sure it’s okay with you—email.

She wrote back:

Write, write, write! I will want to read it. I’d love to hear your story.

I was both excited and afraid. I was excited because I’ve wanted to write this story for a long time. From a purely story perspective, this is a knockout. But I was afraid to write it because on a personal level, this story is filled with emotional landmines and psychological trapdoors. What’s clear is that my number one goal through the event was to protect Jeanette as much as I could, and it seems as though that has continued with time.

Certain recent events have transpired that have drawn me toward the telling of this tale. Those events will be revealed over time. And the public forum of blogging was really just a tool to keep me writing, which has been highly effective.

Now that we’re public, and there are readers who keep encouraging me to continue (thank you!), I thought it would be fun to “break the fourth wall” and include a few words from Jeanette. This morning she sent me the following email…
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(This story is part of a continuing series, An Assault in Venice. Part 1 starts here.)

I don’t watch standard TV “procedurals.” I don’t like the format where a crime is introduced, investigated and then solved in 42 minutes (minus commercials). Life doesn’t work like that. Sometimes the bad guy never gets caught. Sometimes shit happens that’s caused by shitty people and the shit never hits the fan for them (so to speak).

Unfortunately, this is the story of a crime left unpunished, and the damage remains.

I don’t watch shows like CSI or Cold Case but I sure know a lot more now than I did then. I know that when two people have an encounter like Jeanette did with her attacker, there is always an exchange of DNA. There was DNA in that room, and I naively thought someone would collect it. I don’t know why they didn’t. I don’t know if it was simply a different time with insufficient technology. I don’t know if the LAPD is so saddled with crimes that they can’t fully investigate all of them. I don’t know if only murders get the once-over with a fine-toothed comb. I can only tell you that if I knew then what I know now, I would have either tried to collect DNA evidence myself or hired someone to do it for me. And I would have really used Cagney as my partner. The truth is, I was probably lead detective on this case, and if I’d know how or if I’d known that I could, I would have driven this train in a very different way.

I don’t have regrets, but I do have lingering questions.
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I’d be hard pressed to come up with another story that approximates the level of conflict, intrigue and drama as the one I just wrote. So it’s possible that my follow-up can really only be a disappointment. Perhaps the one thing working to my advantage is that the conclusion of the Jeanette story was a disappointment for so many people. I’ve gotten great emails expressing outrage and sadness. I love that people have cared so much.

The morning after finishing the last installment of the story, I was awakened at 3 AM to sirens, flashing lights and police helicopters swirling above my neighborhood. Periodically, an announcement would blare out from the darkened sky telling us to stay in our homes, that suspects were at large. This continued, unbelievably, for just over four hours. The police had to swap out their “airships” three times because the onboard fuel only lasts two hours. With nothing else to do, I reached for my iPhone and followed Venice311 on Twitter to get live updates from the LA Police Scanner.

It seems as though three guys broke into a local Best Buy, loaded a U-Haul with stolen electronics and were chased by the cops to my neighborhood where they ditched the U-Haul and started running. Police established a perimeter, tracked the thugs by heat from the airship above, brought in K-9 units and after four hours they had all the guys in custody.

Go LAPD!

Unfortunately, when the sleep-deprived neighborhood clued into the details, pretty much everyone was stunned to discover that they’d been kept awake since 3 AM for a truckload of electronics. My neighbor shook her head over the fence and said, “That’s it? I’m sorry to say but with all that activity, you’d at least hope someone had been killed.”
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