Rennell's clemency petition.
'We've got two arguments,' Terri had explained to Carlo. 'First, that AEDPA leaves Rennell no suitable avenue for bringing his freestanding claim of innocence. Second—and this is critical—that we should have the same right to testimony from Fleet which the State had at the original trial. That would require California to grant Fleet use immunity so that he can't invoke the Fifth Amendment.'
'First, we have to find him,' Carlo pointed out.
'Sure. But we've got a pretty compelling argument, I think—the State can't convict Rennell on this pervert's trial testimony and then help Fleet avoid questioning after Payton swore that Fleet was the second murderer, and that he perjured himself at trial.'
Out of public view, Johnny Moore and Tammy Mattox also worked to save Rennell. Feverishly, Tammy knocked on doors in the Bayview, seeking out anyone who might have known Eddie Fleet; Moore flew to Los Angeles, where Fleet had lived for a time after Thuy Sen's death, and began working from a motel in the South Central section of the city. The Pagets set up a phone bank in the office, manned by the other investigators, soliciting tips through the media and over the Internet. And despite all this activity, every day without fail, Terri spent an hour with the frightened and confused man who, despite her reports of all the Pagets were doing, felt his life slipping away, day by day, and hour by hour.
'Next Tuesday, right after midnight,' Rennell told her in a hollow voice. 'That's when the warden say it gonna happen.'
At ten o'clock that evening, as Terri tried to sleep, Chris found a short opinion in the tray of their fax machine. In disbelief, he read the document's conclusions: by a vote of two to one, Judge Blair Montgomery dissenting, the panel denied Rennell Price permission to file a third habeas corpus petition before Judge Bond. The reasoning of Judge Nhu and Judge Sanders, the defector, was tersely stated: as directed by the recent opinion of the United States Supreme Court in Godward v. Price, the panel would defer to the Supreme Court of California and, in light of that, could not say that the new affidavits regarding Fleet were 'clear and convincing evidence' of Rennell's innocence. And even were the new evidence sufficient, it did not reflect any constitutional defect in the trial itself, and thus could not be heard.
With a leaden spirit, Chris went to the bedroom and found that Terri, aided by sleeping pills, had at last fallen asleep. Her face, for once, was so untroubled that Chris hated to awaken her. But he knew he must—both for Rennell's sake and for hers.
Gently, he touched the bare skin of her shoulder.
She started, and then her eyes flew open. 'What is it?'
'The Ninth Circuit. I'm sorry, sweetheart, but Sanders flipped. They've turned us down.'
In the dimly lit bedroom, Chris watched his wife struggle to comprehend what, fully awake, she knew by heart—that AEDPA barred Rennell from seeking review by the full Ninth Circuit, or by the United States Supreme Court.
'Oh, God,' she said softly. 'Oh, God.'
* * *
Shortly after 1:00 A.M. in Washington, a call awakened Caroline Masters.
'I'm sorry be calling at this hour,' Blair Montgomery told her, 'but I've got some news. Our panel just denied Rennell Price's request to file a new petition.'
Caroline paused, waiting for sleep to loosen its grip on her consciousness. 'Callista said Price had new evidence. So what happened?'
'Your colleagues did too good a job. In Sanders's mind, further provoking Fini et al. will eviscerate our already tattered credibility. This man's life just isn't worth it.'
Caroline sat up. Her bedroom, though lit by a full silver moon, felt dark and solitary. 'So what can I do? Your order's not appealable.'
'I know. But these lawyers will find some way to petition you. They're smart and resourceful, and they don't give up.'
'That,' Caroline answered with bleak humor, 'would be immensely inconvenient. Why can't Price just die like he's supposed to?'
The next morning, shortly after Caroline reached her chambers, Callista Hill brought her the papers faxed by Rennell Price's lawyers.
* * *
At eleven-thirty in San Francisco, Terri passed Elena's room and saw that her light was on.
Gently, Terri pushed open the door.
Elena was lying atop the bed, an open book beside her, gazing at the ceiling. 'Are you all right?' Terri asked.
'Yeah. Only I can't get to sleep.'
'Neither can I.'
Rolling on her side, Elena faced her mother. 'They're really going to kill him, aren't they?'
'Probably.' Terri hesitated. 'How does that make you feel?'
'Weird.'
Tentative, Terri sat on the edge of the bed. Softly, she said, 'Rennell's not like your father. I'm sure he never touched that girl.'
'Then the other man did. The one who followed me.'
Terri could not answer.
