so I could climb into bed and be alone with my pain, my shame, and my fear. But, no matter how much I closed my eyes and wished them away, the cops wouldn’t leave.
“You have to go to the hospital, whether you want to or not,” a cop said. “You don’t have a right to say that you won’t go. You have to get checked out.”
I must have drifted into unconsciousness again because I don’t remember leaving my home, or what the bellhop or doorman must have thought as I was carried out through the opulent lobby of our building. I don’t know whether the police officers called an ambulance or transported me in one of their squad cars, but when I came to, I was in Lenox Hill Hospital. And I wasn’t alone. The woman Gordon had hired to watch over me was looking at me with the same expression Gordon had given me when he was led away in handcuffs. I sunk deeper into the emergency room cot where I lay, trying to avoid the force of her menacing gaze.
“You’d better not say anything,” she said to me.
When she left to get the doctor, tears welled in my eyes. I wanted to cry because of the terror I had just experienced, the pain that gripped me now, how alone I was, and how helpless I felt.
But I knew better than to show any emotion, and I was afraid that if I started crying I would never stop. Before long, a young doctor came in with the woman. I immediately began lying, because I knew she would report exactly what I said back to Gordon.
“Oh I’m fine,” I said. “You don’t have to do this.”
The doctor clearly didn’t believe me. He gently moved his hands over my torso and legs, trying to measure the damage. I kept myself from wincing at his touch.
“Does this hurt?” he asked. “No,” I said. “Don’t touch me there. Please. It’s okay.” “Well, we need X-rays,” he said. “No, you don’t have to do that,” I said. “I’m fine. Can I go home, please?” I forced myself to sit up, even though the pain was excruciating, just so the doctor
would think my injuries weren’t bad and allow me to leave. I checked myself out and refused to make a follow-up appointment. Once outside, the town car that Gordon and I kept for traveling within the city was waiting for me. The woman and I rode home in silence. All I wanted was to get into bed before Gordon was released from custody and came home to torment me further.
The ordeal was not yet over. Assistant District Attorney E. Loewy came over with several people the following day and insisted she be allowed to check up on me. Gordon’s hired woman refused. The district attorney kept up, until she finally got her way. When she first saw me, she gasped. I could understand her reaction. I felt like the Elephant Man. My left eye was swollen shut and my right eye was back and blue. My lips, which were the size of a saucer, were so big and swollen that I could not close my mouth. Saliva constantly dripped out, no matter how often I inhaled to try to keep this from happening.
“Would you like to press charges?” the assistant district attorney asked. “No, thank you,” I said. No mater how painful and uncomfortable my injuries were, I definitely knew better. “Can I at least take pictures of your injuries?” she asked. The woman intervened then, defiantly. “Absolutely not,” she said. The assistant district attorney tried to convince her. “No, no, no!” the woman said. She knew that if pictures of my face got out, Gordon would be in a great deal of trouble, and she took her job to protect him very seriously. As desperate as I was to receive help of any kind, I did not dare speak up. I actually wished the people would stop trying to help me and leave me alone. I was still convinced that, if I could just find the perfect way to behave around Gordon, I could make the situation better. Little did I know, it would only get worse.
Chapter 2: I WISH I COULD HAVE YOUR LIFE
During the time I was married to Jack Gordon, no one ever thought I was being abused or even saw me look anything less than perfectly happy in public. I was always so polite, and full of smiles, how could anyone suspect what was happening in my personal life? To strangers, I looked like the perfect little wife, with the perfect little life. I was a successful entertainer, born into the world’s most famous musical family, who traveled the world performing and making appearances. I had the nicest clothes