David Kessler - Mercy

“Not good, Juanita.”

He had phoned her on the way to San Quentin and told her about Dusenbury’s offer.

“He refused?” she asked incredulously.

“He said he didn’t know.”

“But how-?”

“Listen, I haven’t got time. I’ll fill you in when I get back to the office. In the meantime, I need you to do a couple of things.”

“That’s what you pay me for.”

“I want you to go online and find out everything you can about the feud between Clayton Burrow and Dorothy Olsen.”

“We already looked into that, boss.”

“I know, but all we found out was that she was the butt of his jokes. What we need to find out is if there’s anything behind it.”

“What’s to find out? He was a bullying jock and she was the smart, geeky girl with glasses. What else is there?”

“Okay, I know it’s a long shot, but I got the impression that Burrow was holding out on me.”

“How do you mean?

“Well it’s just that none of it makes sense. If he’s guilty, why the hell did he reject the deal?”

“So now you think he’s innocent ?” Juanita asked incredulously.

“I think he’s holding out on me.”

“And you think it’s something to do with this high school feud?”

“Well it’s the best place to start.”

“Are we looking for anything in particular?”

“Let’s start off with the cause of the feud. Was it just a culture clash between the male jock and the female geek? Or was it a case of hell hath no fury? Maybe some of the other students know something.”

“It’s gonna be hard to track down the phone numbers. And I can’t leave the office, can I?”

“Use the internet. Maybe there’s discussion about it online. We also need to know who her friends were. And if she had any enemies — other than Burrow, that is.”

“It’s going to be hard. You know how it works on the web. You do a search and it throws up a million irrelevant items.”

“Do your best, Juanita. I’ll be back in fifteen.”

Nat smiled. Twenty-five was more realistic. He’d have to floor it.

Alex put in another call, this time to Information. He asked for Esther Olsen’s number, adding that she lived in Sunnyvale. Fortunately the number was listed. He followed up by putting in a call to her.

“Yes?” The voice was weak … nervous.

“Mrs. Olsen? It’s Alex Sedaka here.”

Her mood seemed to brighten.

“Oh, hallo, Mr. Sedaka.”

Alex was embarrassed. He didn’t know how to continue.

“Listen, I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

“He … he wouldn’t tell you?”

She sounded sad, but not angry or bitter as he’d feared.

“He said he didn’t know. He still maintains he’s innocent.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Esther Olsen’s voice was croaky now.

“Yes.”

“Do you think he’s guilty?”

This was a question that Alex couldn’t answer. Not that his own private thoughts were privileged. But a lawyer’s view of his client’s innocence or guilt is partly based on what his client tells him, and this could be a slippery slope.

“I don’t know, Mrs. Olsen.”

This was the diplomatic response — but until half an hour ago, it would not have been a truthful one. Alex pressed on.

“But can I ask you a question?” he followed up.

“Yes?”

“Do you know anything about the relationship between them? I mean, I know that he bullied her. But was there any more to it than that? Was there any particular reason?”

There was a moment of hesitation.

“I don’t know. She never really confided in me. Like I told you, I was estranged from her before she…”

“Did she confide in anyone? A friend? A relative?”

“Not really. I mean, she got on well with Jonathan, but — ”

“That’s her brother, yes?”

“Yes. But he was younger — five years younger. She probably wouldn’t have wanted to put the burden of her problems on him. She kept her problems bottled up.”

Alex’s mind was racing ahead. A girl with problems and no one to talk to? That was a perfect recipe for suicide. But there was no body. And how did all that incriminating evidence end up in the apartment where Burrow and his mother lived?

“Could I ask you another thing, Mrs. Olsen? About Dorothy liquidating her trust fund and buying that expensive jewelry. Do you have any idea why she might have done that?”

“No.”

Esther Olsen sounded tired, as if she had been through all this many times before — which she probably had.

“Was she the sort of girl who was interested in jewelry?”

“No, not really.”

“And you don’t have a clue where the jewelry is?”

“I … I thought that maybe Burrow stole it … when he killed her.”

“But now?”

He was prompting her, picking up on her hesitance.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you think she may have been planning to run away?”

“She … might have been.”

“Could she have been planning to run away with Clayton Burrow?”

“Certainly not! She hated him! And he hated her!”

“Are you sure it wasn’t just an act?”

“No, Mr. Sedaka, it definitely wasn’t an act!”

Alex had been speculating that maybe Burrow had tricked her into thinking he was going to run away with her and persuaded her to liquidate her trust fund and then killed her and stolen the jewelry. But Esther Olsen rejected that. A mother’s perceptions counted for something. But she may have been estranged from her daughter. But now was not the time to push it.

“Can you think of anyone at all that she might have spoken to? A friend that she might have confided in?”

He waited a while for an answer.

“There was one thing,” Esther Olsen’s voice came out of the silence.

“Yes?”

“She had a computer that she was always working at — an old laptop. She used to spend hours in front of it, either online or just writing.”

“Writing what?”

“I don’t know, but she treated it like an old friend.”

“You think she might have confided in her computer?”

“I don’t know. She never let me see it.”

“Do you still have it?”

“Yes. But why do you think this will help?”

“I just think that if I can unravel what was going on between Clayton- my client and your daughter, I might be able to make some progress.”

He didn’t add that he was also still mindful of the possibility that his client might actually be telling the truth, despite the long odds.

“I still have the computer. I haven’t switched it on since the day she vanished. I don’t even know if it works. But I still have it.”

“Look, Mrs. Olsen, I know this might sound like real chutzpah , but would it be possible for me to borrow the laptop? To take a look at what she’s got on it? Just in case I can find anything that might help.”

“We haven’t got much time.”

“I know. I’ll send a courier round right now … if it’s all right with you?”

There was a short pause and the sound of a sigh.

“It’s all right, Mr. Sedaka. You can send a courier as soon as possible. Just please … bring my daughter home for me.”

“Slow down a bit! My fingers keep missing the goddamn keys!”

“You told me to make it fast.”

The TV van was winding its way through the mid-morning traffic, following the same route that Nat and Alex were taking. Martine was sitting at the front with the driver. The cameraman and soundman sat in the middle row of seats, while the spark and boom operator sat in the back, holding onto the equipment every time the van swerved.