* Jeannie finds her friend raped and accompanies her to the hospital

This doesn’t include an actual rape scene but describes the aftermath of a rape from the victim’s point of view when she’s treated with extreme disrespect during a police interview and a doctor’s examination.

The Third Twin (1996) by Ken Follett. The end of chapter one. Excerpts from an eBook.

The end of chapter one

    He would make his fire just below the fan. He would get a can of gasoline and pour some into an empty Perrier bottle and bring it down here along with some matches and a newspaper for kindling and that wrench.

    The fire would grow quickly and produce huge billows of smoke. He would tie a wet rag over his nose and mouth and wait until the storeroom was full of it. Then he would detach the ventilator pipe. The fumes would be drawn into the duct and pumped out into the women's locker room. At first no one would notice. Then one or two would sniff the air and say: "Is someone smoking?"

    He would open the storeroom door and let the corridor fill with smoke. When the girls realized something was seriously wrong, they would open the locker room door and think the whole building was on fire, and they would all panic—

    Then he would walk into the locker room. There would be a sea of brassieres and stockings, bare breasts and asses and pubic hair. Some would be running out of the showers, naked and wet, fumbling for towels; others would be trying to pull on clothes; most would be running around searching for the door, half-blinded by smoke. There would be screams and sobs and shouts of fear. He would continue to pretend to be a security guard and yell orders at them: "Don't stop to dress! This is an emergency! Get out! The whole building is blazing! Run, run!"

    He would smack their bare asses, shove them around, snatch their clothes away, and feel them up. They would know something was badly wrong, but most of them would be too crazy to figure it out. If the muscular hockey captain was still there she might have the presence of mind to challenge him, but he would just punch her out.

    Walking around, he would select his main victim. She would be a pretty girl with a vulnerable look. He would take her arm, saying: "This way, please, I'm with security." He would lead her into the corridor then turn the wrong way, to the pool machine room. There, just when she thought she was on the way to safety, he would smack her face and punch her in the gut and throw her on the dirty concrete floor. He would watch her roll and turn and sit upright, gasping and sobbing and looking at him with terror in her eyes.

    Then he would smile and unbuckle his belt

Chapter two

    She found herself in a big room full of pumps and filters, presumably for the swimming pool. The smell of smoke was strong, but she could breathe normally.

    She saw Lisa right away, and the sight made her gasp.

    She was lying on her side, curled up in the fetal position, naked. There was a smear of what looked like blood on her thigh. She was not moving.

    For a moment Jeannie was rigid with fear.

    She tried to get hold of herself. "Lisa!" she shouted. She heard the shrill overtone of hysteria in her own voice and took a breath to keep calm. Please, God, let her be all right. She made her way across the room, through the tangle of pipe work, and knelt beside her friend. "Lisa?"

    Lisa opened her eyes.

    "Thank God," Jeannie said. "I thought you were dead."

    Slowly Lisa sat up. She would not look at Jeannie. Her lips were bruised.

    "He ... he raped me," she said.

    Jeannie's relief at finding her alive was replaced by a sick feeling of horror that gripped her heart. "My God. Here?"

    Lisa nodded. "He said this was the way out."

    Jeannie closed her eyes. She felt Lisa's pain and humiliation, the sense of being invaded and violated and soiled. Tears came to her eyes, and she held them back fiercely. For a moment she was too weak and nauseated to say anything.

    Then she tried to pull herself together. "Who was he?"

    "A security guy—"

    "With a spotted scarf over his face?"

    "He took it off." Lisa turned away. "He kept smiling."

    It figured. The girl in khaki pants had said a security guard felt her up.

    The lobby guard was sure there were no other security people in the building. "He was no security guard," Jeannie said. She had seen him jogging away just a few minutes ago. A wave of rage swept over her at the thought that he had done this dreadful thing right here, on the campus, in the gymnasium building, where they all felt safe to take off their clothes and shower. It made her hands shake, and she wanted to chase after him and strangle him.

    She heard loud noises: men shouting, heavy footsteps, and the rush of water. The firemen were operating their hoses.

    "Listen, we're in danger here," she said urgently. "We have to get out of this building."

    Lisa's voice was a dull monotone. "I don't have any clothes."

    We could die in here! "Don't worry about clothes, everyone's half-naked out there." Jeannie scanned the room hastily and saw Lisa's red lace brassiere and panties in a dusty heap beneath a tank. She picked them up. "Put your underwear on. It's dirty, but it's better than nothing."

    Lisa remained sitting on the floor, staring vacantly.

    Jeannie fought down a feeling of panic. What could she do if Lisa refused to move? She could probably lift Lisa, but could she carry her up that ladder? She raised her voice. "Come on, get up!" Taking Lisa's hands, she pulled her to her feet.

    At last Lisa met her eyes. "Jeannie, it was horrible," she said.

    Jeannie put her arms around Lisa's shoulders and hugged her hard. "I'm sorry, Lisa, I'm so sorry," she said.

    The smoke was becoming more dense, despite the heavy door. Fear replaced pity in her heart. "We have to get out of here—The place is burning down.

    For God's sake put these on!"

    At last Lisa began to move. She pulled up her panties and fastened her bra.

    Jeannie took her hand and led her to the ladder on the wall, then made her go up first. As Jeannie followed, the door crashed open and a fireman entered in a cloud of smoke. Water swirled around his boots. He looked startled to see them. "We're all right, we're getting out this way,"

    Jeannie yelled to him. Then she went up the ladder after Lisa.

    A moment later they were outside in the fresh air.

    Jeannie felt weak with relief—she had got Lisa out of the fire. But now Lisa needed help. Jeannie put an arm around her shoulders and led her to the front the building. There were fire trucks and police cruisers parked every which way

--

    McHenty said: "I have to take down the basic details of the case, miss would you excuse us for a few more minutes?"

    "Oh, sure," Jeannie said apologetically. Then she caught a look from Lisa and hesitated. A few minutes ago she had been cursing herself for leaving Lisa alone with a man. Now she was about to do it again. "On the other hand," she said, "maybe Lisa would prefer me to stay." Her instinct was confirmed when Lisa gave a barely perceptible nod.

    Jeannie sat on the bed and took Lisa's hand.

    McHenty looked irritated but he did not argue. "I was asking Mss Hoxton about how she tried to resist the assault," he said. "Did you scream, Lisa?"

    "Once, when he threw me on the floor," she said in a low voice. "Then he pulled the knife."

    McHenty's voice was matter-of-fact, and he looked down at his notebook as he spoke. "Did you try to fight him off?"

    She shook her head. "I was afraid he would cut me."

    "So you really didn't put up any resistance after that first scream?"

    She shook her head and began to cry. Jeannie squeezed her hand. She wanted to say to McHenry, "What the hell was she supposed to do?" But she kept silent. Already today she had been rude to a boy who looked like Brad Pitt, made a bitchy remark about Lisa's boobs, and snapped at the lobby guard in the gym. She knew she was not good at dealing with authority figures, and she was determined not to make an enemy of this policeman, who was only trying to do his job.

    McHenty went on: "Just before he penetrated you, did he force your legs apart?"

    Jeannie winced. Surely they should have female cops to ask these questions?

    Lisa said: "He touched my thigh with the point of the knife."

    "Did he cut you?"

    "No."

    "So you opened your legs voluntarily."

    Jeannie said: "If a suspect pulls a weapon on a cop, you generally shoot him down, don't you? Do you call that voluntary?"

    McHenty gave her an angry look. "Please leave this to me, miss." He turned back to Lisa. "Do you have any injuries at all?"

    "I'm bleeding, yes."

    "Is that as a result of the forced intercourse?"

    "Yes."

    "Where are you injured, exactly?"

    Jeannie could not stand it any longer. "Why don't we let the doctor establish that?"

    He looked at her as if she were stupid. I have to make the preliminary report."

    "Then let it say she has internal injuries as a result of the rape."

    "I'm conducting this interview."

    "And I'm telling you to back off, mister," Jeannie said, controlling the urge to scream at him. "My friend is in distress and I don't think she needs to describe her internal injuries to you when she's going to be examined by a doctor any second now."

    McHenty looked furious, but he moved on. "I noticed you had on red lace underwear. Do you think that had any effect on what happened?"

    Lisa looked away, her eyes full of tears.

    Jeannie said: "If I reported my red Mercedes stolen, would you ask me whether I had provoked the theft by driving such an attractive car?"

    McHenty ignored her. "Do you think you might have met the perpetrator before, Lisa?"

    "No."

    "But the smoke must have made it difficult for you to see clearly. And he wore a scarf of some kind over his face."

    "At first I was practically blind. But there wasn't much smoke in the room where ... he did it. I saw him." She nodded to herself. "I saw him."

    "So you would recognize him if you saw him again."

    Lisa shuddered. "Oh, yes."

    "But you've never seen him before, like in a bar or anything.

    "No."

    "Do you go to bars, Lisa?"

    "Sure."

    "Singles bars, that kind of thing?"

    Jeannie boiled over. "What the hell kind of question is that?"

    "The kind defense lawyers ask," McHenty said.

    "Lisa isn't on trial—she's not the perpetrator, she's the victim!"

    "Were you a virgin, Lisa?"

    Jeannie stood up. "Okay, that's enough. I do not believe this is supposed to happen. You're not supposed to ask these invasive questions."

    McHenty raised his voice. "I'm trying to establish her credibility."

    "One hour after she was violated? Forget it!"

    "I'm doing my job—"

    "I don't believe you know your job. I don't think you know shit, McHenty."

    Before he could reply, a doctor walked in without knocking. He was young and looked harassed and tired. "Is this the rape?" he said.

    "This is Ms. Lisa Hoxton," Jeannie said icily. "Yes, she was raped."

    "I'll need a vaginal swab."

    He was charmless, but at least he provided an excuse to get rid of McHenty.

    Jeannie looked at the cop. He stayed put, as if he thought he were going to supervise the taking of the swab. She said: "Before you do that, Doctor, perhaps Patrolman McHenty will excuse us?"

    The doctor paused, looking at McHenty. The cop shrugged and went out.

    The doctor pulled the sheet off Lisa with an abrupt gesture. "Lift your gown and spread your legs," he said.

    Lisa began to cry.

    Jeannie could hardly believe it. What was it with these men? "Excuse me, sir," she said to the doctor.

    He glared at her impatiently. "Have you got a problem?"

    "Could you please try to be a little more polite?"

    He reddened. "This hospital is full of people with traumatic injuries and life-threatening illnesses," he said. "Right now in the emergency room there are three children who have been in a car wreck, and they're all going to die. And you're complaining that I'm not being polite to a girl who got into bed with the wrong man?"

    Jeannie was flabbergasted. "Got into bed with the wrong man?" she repeated.

    Lisa sat upright. "I want to go home," she said.

    "That sounds like a hell of a good idea," Jeannie said. She unzipped her duffel and began to put the clothes out on the bed.

    The doctor was dumbstruck for a moment. Then he said angrily: "Do as you please." He went out.

    Jeannie and Lisa looked at one another. "I can't believe that happened," Jeannie said.

    "Thank God they've gone," Lisa said, and she got out of bed.

    Jeannie helped her take off the hospital gown. Lisa pulled on the fresh clothes quickly and stepped into the shoes. "I'll drive you home," Jeannie said.

    "Would you sleep over at my apartment?" Lisa said. "I don't want to be alone tonight."

    "Sure. I'll be glad to."

    McHenty was waiting outside. He seemed less confident. Perhaps he knew he had handled the interview badly. "I still have a few more questions," he said.

    Jeannie spoke quietly and calmly. "We're leaving," she said. "Lisa is too upset to answer questions right now."

    He was almost scared. "She has to," he said. "She's made a complaint."

    Lisa said: "I wasn't raped. It was all a mistake. I just want to go home now."

    "You realize it's an offense to make a false allegation?"

    Jeannie said angrily: "This woman is not a criminal—she's the victim of a crime. If your boss asks why she's withdrawing the complaint, say it's because she was brutally harassed by Patrolman McHenty of the Baltimore Police Department. Now I'm taking her home. Excuse us, please." She put her arm around Lisa's shoulders and steered her past the cop toward the exit.

    As they left she heard him mutter: "What did I do?"