The Bad Doctor

He was a huge hulk-like man, from Nigeria, drowning in a sea of horrible allegations floating around him.

I saw him in person, on a total of three separate occasions.

The first time was during my surveillances. I was not looking for something specific, just documenting everything and anything, his comings and goings.

The second time I saw him was from a closer vantage point. It was much later, at the time of his trial.
I was stopped at a red light in the heart of downtown Seattle early in the morning
I was leaving a construction site I had been photographing around dawn where a client was injured.
The Bad Doctor emerged from a parking garage that led directly to the street I was stopped on. I figured he was on the way to his criminal trial, or meeting his attorney, before heading in the direction of the courthouse.

I looked right at him through my tinted passenger window and hit the button to my left that lowered the passenger front window. All I can say is I switched into auto pilot. I felt my heart beating those familiar warning drums that you feel are audible to anyone around you.... and ignored them.
I felt mischievous.

He had no clue who I was, as my passenger side window rolled down and revealed, yours truly in the driver's seat. Our eyes locked as I flashed my my sweetest smile at him. I, the blond- haired, blue-eyed American lady in the SUV... he no doubt wondered if I was one of the many misunderstood female moths drawn to his celebrity light.

He didn't know me. And he didn't know I knew everything about him.
I knew he was a lady's man.
I knew he was born in Nigeria, was absolutely huge in height and weight. I knew he was a gynecologist/fertility doctor who primarily served the poor.
I knew he had a twin brother who was also lived in Seattle and also was a Doctor. I knew both brothers were close and looked quite similar though there were marked differences.

I knew he'd assaulted more women than I could count at this moment without my case notes, which I don't have anyway, because I handed them all to the attorney when I closed his case.
I remember being given a list of eighty women to contact.
I was brought on the case when the other two males investigators had not been successful getting statements out of the victims and witnesses. Many witnesses, including former employees, believed the Bad Doctor was connected to the Nigerian Mafia. Some spoke of threats against themselves, their families.
I was told there was a hidden CD someone had and maybe I could get it.
I was also informed the Feds were involved. There was a civil trial, a criminal trial, and an overload of information in public court records and in the media.

I was brought into the case because the attorneys involved decided a female investigator would be more successful finding and getting information from female victims.
I remember hours at my computer, skip-tracing, surname searches, address updates as I ran backgrounds on the Bad Doctor.

Then I searched for witnesses in hiding. Many miles and many more than the usual amount of doors slammed in my face. I watched tears stream down victims' eyes. And always, it involved going through walls of friends or relatives to establish credibility and a sense of safety, just to prove I was on their side of the good guys.
I had to convince his victims that that unless they stepped forward, The Bad Doctor could be found innocent of the alleged rapes, the mutilations and torture.

So... the second time I saw him in person... the first being surveillance... was many months later when my work on his case was done.
He was crossing the street near the courthouse. I presumed he was on the way to his trial which had just started. He was alone, innocent until proven guilty.

So I was stopped at the red light. He stepped out of a parking garage towards the crosswalk to my right. I rolled down the passenger side of the window as he approached
.
"Hello" I said to him.
"Well Hello My Lovely" he said back with a cavernous deep voice coated in a thick Nigerian accent. He flashed a huge Cheshire smile grin.

I waited a few seconds, wondering if I should stretch it out... or be done with it. I chose the latter.

"I just wanted to wish you good luck on your trial because you're going to need it. Big time. In my opinion, you're screwed. Oh, and by the way, have a nice day!"

As I watched his Cheshire cat grin turn upside down, I closed my window, drove away, through the red light -- figuring the threat of a "running the red" ticket vs. encountering what was a whole lot of pent up wrath, was a small price to pay for a fast exit.

I had a smile on my face then, I got that high we investigators constantly seek on the job. We too chase dragons, only this time, I felt I took a little chunk out of one at the stop light.
The trial, I hoped would take the fire out of him for good and keep him behind bars for life.

I looked back at the Bad Doctor in my rear view mirror.
He'd already turned away and was crossing the street.
I grabbed my cell, called the attorney I worked for on the case and told him what I just did.
Fortunately, that attorney had a great sense of humor and laughed heartily .
Even more fortunately, the Bad Doctor was convicted and then, sentenced.

So the third time I saw him in person, and the last, I kept my distance. It was when he was sentenced. I was off to the side, one of many people watching huge police officers who look tiny compared to this monster sized man who required three sets of handcuffs linked together to restrain him.

My last image of him is from behind, my eyes locked on those three sets of handcuffs, as he was escorted away to a cell. I drew satisfaction from the fact that I was one small keg in a giant machine that helped put him there.

Odd thing though.
Two odd things really.
He had that aforementioned twin brother.
And there were allegation that the twin also assaulted his convicted brother's victims. There were allegations of the two working as a team. However, there was only enough evidence to convict one of the Nigerian doctor brothers. Now people were looking at the other brother.

So the convicted Bad Doctor's twin brother, who was also being investigated, launched two civil suits: one against the civil attorney who helped convict his brother and the other against one of the victims, a rape victim.
For some absurd reasons, the court ruled in the twin brother's favor and slapped the attorney and victim with huge fines.

I was appalled and wondered if the Nigerian Mafia has gotten to the judge. The attorney was strong, tough and a fighter. The attorney said what enraged him was not the attack against him, but the other lawsuit and judgement against a sexual assault victim.

And true to his word, the attorney kept me out of the public/media equation.
Some P.I.'s seek out the spotlight.
I seek out the corners with no light.
It's precisely because I operated and stayed under the radar and within all legal parameters, my name was never linked to the case.
Until now.

Ultimately, the Supreme Court stepped in.
That's the sidebar link on the left.
And if you click on the title of this post, it will take you a story about the case in case you care to research further.