Arrow-right Camera
The Spokesman-Review Newspaper
Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

Rape case leaves scars


Jean Boyd stands in the entryway of the building at 1827 W. Ninth Ave. on Dec. 6  where she rented an apartment.  She didn't find out her landlord Arlin Jordin was a convicted rapist until a few days after she signed the lease in September 2007. She's since moved out. THE SPOKESMAN-REVIEW
 (JESSE TINSLEY THE SPOKESMAN-REVIEW / The Spokesman-Review)

Spokane landlord and convicted rapist Arlin Jordin is no longer driving his leased Jaguar around the South Hill and mixing up shakers of margaritas with fresh limes for apartment-seeking women.

He’s behind bars in Shelton, Wash., serving a prison sentence for second-degree rape while his lawyers petition for a new trial.

As a panel of judges on the Washington Court of Appeals in Spokane heard oral arguments on his appeal Tuesday, others say Jordin has left ripples of fear throughout the community.

A female renter in one of the houses where Jordin once lived has moved out, fearing he’ll be released from prison and return to Spokane. Other women who claim they are among Jordin’s victims are still dealing with the aftermath: depression, job problems, money worries, fear.

Most of the women who told police they’d had unwelcome encounters with Jordin over the past decade have not been publicly identified by The Spokesman-Review, whose policy is generally to withhold names of sexual assault victims.

But Elaine Green, a 49-year- old University of Idaho art instructor who says she was drugged and raped by Jordin seven years ago but whose case was never prosecuted, wants her name used to empower other women and shatter the stigma of rape.

“I’ve come to some peace about what’s happened. I’m relieved he’s behind bars. But it’s always there in the back of my mind,” she said.

Green’s experience has been chronicled by her husband, Moscow writer and former securities lawyer Gregory Newell Smith, in a new unpublished book manuscript, “The Art of Rape: A Memoir.” Smith is seeking a publisher for the work, a detailed commentary on Jordin’s 2006 trial and the traumatic experiences of raped women. Green and Smith say the book project has been therapeutic, helping them through their joint ordeal and drawing them closer as a couple.

Smith’s book describes Jordin as calculating, always searching for vulnerable women; he was declared one of Spokane’s “Most Eligible Bachelors” in a 1991 magazine article.

“Being a landlord is the perfect line of work. Everybody needs a place to live….including single women going through stressful changes in their lives. Sooner or later they come to him,” Smith writes in his book.

It begins with Green’s alleged rape in December 2000 in Jordin’s Browne’s Addition apartment.

Green, a fine arts student at Eastern Washington University, was getting a divorce at the time. Seeking a new place to live, she responded to a newspaper classified ad placed by Jordin. He asked her over to his place, where she says she blacked out after drinking part of a second glass of wine. She came to on the sofa, a naked Jordin on top of her. She tried to leave, but says Jordin, a burly former football player, picked her up, carried her into his bedroom and sexually assaulted her a second time.

Green’s case was one of five chosen by Spokane County Deputy Prosecutor John Love as witness testimony in Jordin’s 2006 trial. Courts bar a lot of evidence about past misconduct, but do allow prosecutors to try to prove a “common scheme or plan” – in this case, a predatory pattern in which Jordin allegedly sought out vulnerable women, offered them drug-laced drinks and sexually assaulted them when they blacked out.

In Green’s case, she didn’t tell police until after they’d completed their official report that she thought she might have been drugged. Spokane County Superior Court Judge Neal Rielly, siding with defense attorney Bevan Maxey, decided not to use her testimony in the trial – choosing three other women who did speak of being drugged.

“The judge thought it didn’t fit the pattern he was looking for in the ‘common theme or plan’ testimony,” Love said.

Green said she was still in shock afterward, and wasn’t sure what had happened to her.

“The initial police interview was 24 hours after the rape,” Green said. “When they were done, they asked if I had any questions. I asked, could I have been drugged? They really had no idea, and it didn’t make it into the report.”

At the time, “I was the only woman who reported it to the police. They said they knew where he lived and said they were aware of him,” Green said.

The scariest moment for Green came in the spring of 2002 – a year and a half later.

She was living in Browne’s Addition and shopped at the local Rosauers. She knew Jordin lived in the neighborhood and she was leery of running into him, always looking over her shoulder. When she finally encountered him in the produce aisle, she abandoned her half-full grocery cart and fled.

“I wanted to point him out to the checkout women and say, ‘he’s a rapist.’ But my reaction was not that – it was terror,” she said in an interview.

The three women who were allowed to testify in Jordin’s trial told the jury what had happened to them. One was going through a divorce when she called Jordin about an apartment. He offered her wine, she blacked out and was sexually assaulted. One said she blacked out after accepting a drink from Jordin and woke up half-naked on the floor with him having sex on top of her. The third woman, also offered wine, described feeling drugged and immobilized as Jordin raped her.

Bevan Maxey, Jordin’s trial attorney, strongly criticized the testimony of the three women and dozens of others who came forward after the case was publicized, calling it “mob mentality.” By December 2004, after Jordin’s arrest and a series of newspaper articles, 62 women had come forward, not including the woman whose complaint triggered his arrest. Eleven said he drugged and raped them; nine said they were drugged and escaped while he tried to rape them. The rest reported a variety of odd behaviors, including greeting them in a bathrobe when they arrived to answer an apartment ad.

The main victim in the trial – called “Angela” in Smith’s book, although that’s not her real name – testified that she accepted Jordin’s invitation to come to his place at night, where the two shared straight shots of bourbon. She said she lost consciousness and woke up naked in Jordin’s bed the next morning – and at no time consented to having sex.

Maxey portrayed the encounter as two willing people drinking and having sex.

The jury found Jordin guilty of second-degree rape and indecent liberties. Before sentencing, the victim’s sentencing statement was read by an advocate from Lutheran Family Services, which operates Spokane’s rape hotline.

“I felt like a big walking open wound. The air stung. Everything I did was tainted with fear,” she said, adding that she was unable to work a full 40-hour week due to anxiety, her medical bills piled up and she was forced into bankruptcy.

She called for the maximum sentence for Jordin, calling him a “sociopath.”

Rielly sentenced Jordin to 102 months, far more than the 36 months that Maxey said was justified. Jordin must register as a sex offender and when he’s out of prison he’ll be supervised for life in community custody.

Tuesday’s appeals court arguments were an anticlimax to the Jordin saga, Green and Smith said after the court proceedings.

The highlight for the couple: Judge Rielly’s ruling sending Jordin to state prison on Oct. 9 for violating his release conditions. Jordin was led out of the courtroom in handcuffs, telling the media he had nothing to say. Although Green was working that day in Moscow, Smith was in the courtroom, watching the drama.

“For both of us, it was a huge relief. It had been a shock to us when Judge Rielly let him out on bond,” Smith said.

Meanwhile, a former tenant in one of Jordin’s properties says she and some other women who rented from his rental company want nothing more to do with him.

Jean Boyd moved with her 17-year-old daughter into an apartment in Jordin’s white three-story house on West Ninth on September 10 this year. Jordin’s apartment, where he lived at times when he was out on bond, was directly above hers.

“I knew nothing about Jordin’s case. I was in Nova Scotia all summer,” Boyd said.

At first, she said she was thrilled with the apartment Jordin showed to her, with its high ceilings, fireplace and tiled bathroom.

Then she read about Jordin’s bond revocation and arrest on Oct. 9. Another young woman had complained he offered her a drink at his place and tried to kiss her after she became woozy and lightheaded. Although he’d bolted the door, she managed to escape, according to a police affidavit.

After the news of Jordin’s arrest, Boyd broke her one-year lease and moved.

“We used to be able to rent safely. You could trust people. Now, I’m not so sure,” she said.