David Kessler - Mercy

Nat couldn’t fail but smile at the District Court judge’s attempt at levity. He wasn’t sure if most rabbis were failed comedians, or most comedians were failed rabbis.

“Yes, I know, I’m sorry but-”

“Oh don’t apologize. You’ve got a client who’s due for execution in a few hours. You’ve got the right to do whatever is necessary within the law.”

“Thank you, Your Honor. Basically what we’ve now been able to obtain are bank statements showing that Dorothy Olsen opened a bank account in London a few days after she vanished. More important, however, these statements show that she made a series of payments to the Finchley Road Medical Centre in London. This went on for more than a year after she vanished.”

“May I see these bank statements?”

Nat handed them over to the judge. The judge looked at them and noted the transactions highlighted with a green highlighter pen. But there was something about these statements that troubled him.

“These look like computer printouts.”

“Oh they are.”

“So these are not originals — and they’re not bank-certified copies?”

“No, they’re new printouts. You see, Dorothy Olsen used internet banking-”

“Did they have that in those days?”

“It’s been around since the eighties but it took off in the mid-nineties.”

“How did you get these?”

“From Dorothy’s online account.”

“The bank gave them to you?”

“No, Your Honor. My boss’s son — David Sedaka — is a computer expert and he was able to — ”

“He hacked into the bank?”

“Not exactly, Your Honor. Hacking directly into a bank’s computer system is quite hard. But when the bank provides online banking to its customers, the weak spot is the customer themselves. You can’t just hack into a bank’s computer, but the bank offers online banking to customers and David Sedaka was able to obtain her user ID and password and, armed with this information, he was able to log on to Miss Olsen’s bank account in England.”

“That was highly illegal and could result in federal charges.”

The judge sounded like a teacher lecturing a student who had just been caught cheating in an exam.

“We know that, Your Honor, and David Sedaka has indicated that he accepts responsibility and is ready to face the consequences. But in the meantime, the evidence exists and it does present the case in a whole new light.”

“If the State was here, they’d no doubt be arguing the fruit of the poison tree.”

“With a man’s life hanging in the balance?”

“They can be ruthless at times,” said the judge with a smile.

“The question is, are you?” asked Nat.

“How do we know that this actually was Miss Olsen making the payments? Maybe this was some form of post-mortem embezzlement. She could have already been dead.”

“The payment went out to an established and respectable medical center. They’ve already confirmed that she went there for an abortion and — ”

“Hold on a minute! This wasn’t for an abortion!”

“We know that. And it could even be that the account was being milked by someone else. But that in turn could mean that she died during the procedure and they covered it and then milked her account.”

The judge looked irritated at this.

“Now we’re back in the realms of speculation, aren’t we?”

“Okay, I take your point, Your Honor. But the one thing we can be sure of is that money was leaving her account — which she opened in England — for more than a year after she was supposedly dead. And that suggests that she was alive during that period at least — while at the same time choosing not to get into contact with those she would normally have been in contact with.”

“ Suggests it, Mr. Anderson, but doesn’t prove it.”

“True. But it does present the case in a radically new light, Your Honor.”

After his father’s unexpectedly harsh reaction to his hacking into Dorothy’s bank account, David decided to return his attention to the computer and the deleted data from the hard disk.

From the feedback he had received, it was clear that the poem he unveiled had caused quite a stir, notwithstanding his father’s initial skepticism. The consensus now was that this was Dorothy’s expression of rage toward Clayton Burrow. It had even enabled Alex to get a confession out of Burrow for the rape of Dorothy Olsen, although he still denied murder.

So it made sense for David to try and unearth the rest of the poem. It was obvious that the verse was just a fragment of a poem, because it had no title. Normally a writer, even an amateur, would give their literary work a title and, even if it was on their own computer, would add their name as the author.

The fact that there was nothing before or after the verse relating to it, suggested that it was a fragment from an earlier save, not the final version. But where was the rest? It was probably there, it was just a question finding it. He thought about the words for a minute.

You dragged me before the mirror

And ripped the clothes off of me

Forcing me to face the fact

That I am not, that I am not

The thing that you want me to be

Presumably the whole poem was written in that style. But he was a computer scientist not a linguist or a poetry expert. How could he search for a particular style? How could he describe the style in a computer program?

Then it hit him. The verse was addressed to someone referred to only as “You.” The rest of the poem was probably written in the same style. So the trick was to write a program that would look for two or more instances of “you” in close proximity! He could create a search application in C++, the very powerful, high-level language used to create fast-running programs.

In a matter of minutes the search program was running and the master program was feeding it text from the sectors of the disk platter considered to be the most likely candidates for the rest of the poem.

It wasn’t long before he found another verse.

You crushed the hope out of me

Not in cold blood but angrily

And only when you died

Did I resolve the mystery

Of your vicious assault on my dignity

More words of reproach aimed at her tormentor.

David could see that this was not just the work of the same hand but probably the same poem as the other verse. This was Dorothy’s expression of anger and bitterness toward an enemy who had made her life a misery.

He had to tell his father. Again, he made his way to the office just outside the lab where he had left his cell phone. He had keyed in the number and was about to press the green button when something struck him. He put the phone down and went back to the computer. For a few seconds, he just stood there in front of the terminal, staring at the words on the screen.

“Only when you died… only when you… died .”

His father’s speculation was wrong.

“Only when you dieD .”

Past tense!

But Clayton Burrow wasn’t dead.

Whoever this poem was addressed to, it was not Clayton Burrow.

“Alex Sedaka’s office … hallo?”

Juanita put the phone down angrily just as Nat entered the office.

“Do you want the good news or the bad news?” he asked.

“Just spit it out, jackass!”

“They refuse!”

“The TRO?”

“Final?”

Nat took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly.

“Refused to grant it ex parte. But they’ve scheduled a full hearing for eight thirty. If we’re successful, they’ll grant a stay of execution. The DA’s been notified. We’ve given them copies of the bank statements, so hopefully they’ll see reason and agree to reopen the case.”