David Kessler - Mercy

Did this mean that this was going to be Nat’s last stand? And if so, what fate, Alex wondered, did Nat have in store for him?

And there was still that other lingering elusive question: why ?

The motive remained as elusive as ever. It was almost as if Nat couldn’t explain his own actions. Then again, this was not so unusual. Even Clayton Burrow had only the vaguest insight as to why he chosen Dorothy as the target for his bullying — and he had had seven years in the shadow of death to contemplate his motives as well as his fate. Self-awareness was not a virtue with which all people were blessed. And generally those who possessed it least were those most inclined toward crime in general, and violence in particular.

But Nathaniel Anderson was no violent criminal. He was not one of those people who stood only a moment from violence at every turn. Such people might lash out at their wives or their children or get into fights with their neighbors. But Nat was not like that. Today was the first time Alex had seen any hint of Nat having a capacity for violence, let alone a propensity.

Maybe he’s a psychopath or a sociopath or whatever the current buzzword is today.

But that was no explanation either. Even practical questions like the disposal of the body had gone unanswered.

His thoughts were interrupted by a call on his iPhone. Alex looked at Nat, unsure of what to do.

Nat reached into Alex’s pocket, pulled out the phone and looked at the display.

“It’s from David,” he said, as if inviting Alex to say what he wanted to do. But Alex knew that he was in no position to decide. Nat was holding the gun as well as the phone. Alex couldn’t hold the phone to talk and he daren’t challenge the gun.

“I’ll put it on speaker.”

And with that Nat answered.

“Hi, David.”

“Nat?” He sounded confused.

“Yes. Your father’s right here. He can’t hold the phone ‘cause he’s driving. I’ll put you on speaker.”

Nat put the phone on speaker and nodded toward Alex.

“Hi, David.”

“Hi, Dad. Listen, I’ve just recovered an MP3 file from the disk.”

Alex didn’t want to hear this right now. By this stage anything David could find would almost certainly be irrelevant. But on the other hand, he didn’t want to tell David that all their efforts had been in vain.

“What, you mean like a song ?”

“No. It’s speech. It’s Dorothy. She’s talking.”

“Talking?”

“Yes.”

“What was she talking about?”

“It’s that poem … the one I kept finding extracts from. The one inspired by Sylvia Plath’s ‘Daddy.’”

“But as an MP3 file this time?”

“Yes. She’s reading it aloud.”

“Can you play it over the phone?”

It was a silly request. He didn’t know why he had asked.

“Well the sound quality won’t be all that good. But I can email it to you as an attachment.”

“How long will that take?”

“Less than a minute.”

“I’m driving.”

“It can wait till you get back home or to the office.”

“Send it now and then go home and get some sleep. I’ll listen when I can.”

“Home?”

David sounded tense at the word.

Alex let the air out of his lungs. He wasn’t going to let his son in on his current predicament, but the best way to stop him tuning in to the radio to catch the news was to tell him the outcome with Burrow.

“It’s over, David.”

The line went silent for a few seconds.

“I’m sorry, Dad.”

“You did your best … we all did.”

“I know. I just wish we could have done more.”

“Get some rest. Goodnight, David.

“Goodnight, Dad.”

Alex looked over at Nat, as if to ask him if was proud of himself. Nat ignored him and ended the call.

“Take the ramp,” ordered Nat. “Get onto Interstate 101 South.”

Alex obeyed, noticing that while he was doing so, Nat was playing with the iPhone.

“What are you doing?”

Nat smiled.

“Downloading the poem. Don’t you want to hear it? It might be kind of cute.”

Alex felt anger at Nat’s callousness. But he kept it in check.

“We may as well … I guess.”

While Alex kept his eyes on the road, Nat logged on to his email to download the MP3 file to Alex’s iPhone.

“Shall I play it?”

Alex swallowed.

“Yes,” he muttered.

Nat touched the area of the screen that started the MP3 file playing.

Dorothy’s voice came over the phone’s speaker. The irony that she was addressing Edgar as “Daddy” was not lost on Alex as he divided his concentration between Dorothy’s words and the road ahead.

I cannot be, can never be

What I thought you wanted me

To be, to be, or so it seemed

When I didn’t understand

What a fool I was, tee hee

Daddy, I know I am guilty

Though someone killed you first

I killed you as surely as if

I had pulled the trigger myself

Bang Bang! All over

And now I have to cross the Atlantic

Because I have to flee

Across the ocean, safe and sound

To where they’ll never find me

At that point, Alex’s concentration was broken by the sound of a helicopter overhead.

Juanita was in shock at what she had just read. She called Alex. She had got the busy signal before. But she had to tell him.

In her haste, she kept fumbling the digits and having to go back and start over. Finally she got through. It rang for a few seconds.

“Hi, Juanita. Listen, I’m kind of busy right — ”

“I just got the fax about Dorothy from the London clinic.”

“And?”

“You’re not gonna believe this, boss. It says she had hormone treatment.”

“Hormone treatment?”

“ And gender re-assignment surgery.”

There was a gasp at the other end.

“Gender re-assignment?”

“Yes! She had a fuckin’ sex change!”

“I wish I’d known, Nat,” said Alex gently as he left Silva Island behind him.

They’d been sitting in silence for over a minute as Alex drove along the I-101 overpass just past the Planet Day Care and Activity Center. Alex had switched off the MP3 and they’d sat there tensely, each waiting for the other to speak. Alex’s mind was still reeling from what he had just heard. But he sensed that Nat didn’t yet trust his voice, now that the truth was out.

It changed … everything.

And yet he wasn’t sure how to get through to Nat even now. At this moment, Nat was fleeing for his life and you didn’t argue with a man who feels cornered. Neither could you reason with a man who felt betrayed. All Alex could do was bide his time. To try and break the ice would be suicide. But perhaps he could thaw it slowly.

“I wish — ”

“Take the North Exit to Highway 1,” said Nat, breaking his silence. “We’ll head toward Stinson Beach.”

While Alex was still struggling to take it all in, a change seemed to have come over Nat. Now he looked almost relieved that he no longer had to keep it all bottled up inside.

“I can get you a good lawyer,” said Alex. “I know most of the defense attorneys in the Bay area and I can get you the best.”

“I’m not going to spend my life behind bars,” Nat replied tensely. “I’ve lived most of my life in fear. Fear of the man I thought was my father, when I was a kid. Fear of bullies in high school. Fear when I got pregnant and then fear of being found out these last few years.”

Alex thought about the fact that this last fear was of Nat’s own making. If he hadn’t framed Burrow for murder, the problem need never have arisen. But now was not the time to discuss ethics.