“I mean, I did.”
“But what about the mirror?”
“I don’t know.”
“Was there a mirror where you raped her?”
“No … it was in a shed.”
“So, when you raped her, you didn’t drag her in front of any mirror?”
“No.”
Alex looked into Clayton’s eyes and knew that he was telling the truth. So what the hell was Dorothy talking about in the poem?
16:31 PDT
David was frantically trying to regain access to Dorothy’s Compuserve account, checking and double checking that the Caps Lock key was off and that he was typing carefully.
Could I have mistyped the password? he wondered. Quite possibly. I was terribly excited after all.
He realized that there was only one thing to do. He had to go through the same rigmarole again: gain access through the security questions and reminders.
The date of birth and mother’s maiden name questions came up and he answered them. But when the third security question came up it was no longer asking for the name of the high school, it wanted “Dog’s name.”
She set up several security questions here, David thought. The system cycles through them at random.
Smiling, he typed in “Clayton” and found the email containing the User ID and password reminders for the bank. He made a note of them and then logged out.
Next stop, the bank.
He logged on with the user ID and password and started poking round. There weren’t too many transactions. She had started the account with fifty-five thousand pounds sterling. But then he scrolled down to see what she had spent it on.
Sure enough, the Finchley Road Medical Centre was listed. But it wasn’t their name that surprised him. It was something else entirely.
16:34 PDT
“None of this proves that Dorothy Olsen is alive or even that she survived the night of her disappearance.”
The ADA who was addressing the judge was a woman in her late twenties; dark-haired and smartly dressed, she could have been Martine Yin’s older sister, except that she went a little bit lighter on the makeup to underplay rather than exaggerate her femininity. In her line of work, emphasizing her femininity might seem too blatant a ploy, whereas playing it down enabled her to cash in on her appearance, even while appearing not to.
“We concede that she reserved the flight. But that doesn’t prove that she boarded it.”
Dawn Oxenberg was one of several ADAs in the sex crimes unit of the DA’s office. Although her tone was quiet, her manner and tenacity were as intense as that of any man and she fought her corner like a seasoned pro.
Nat rose to speak.
“Your Honor, most people who book or reserve airline flights subsequently board those flights. Not to do so would be the exception. In that sense it is more probable than not that she boarded.”
He was there alone, because Alex was on his way back from the prison. It was ironic that, having served the restraining order on the warden of the prison, Alex was not there to argue the case in person when the restraining order was in danger of being overturned.
“That might be the case if viewed in isolation,” Oxenberg responded. “But the fact that Miss Olsen was never seen again suggests that it is more probable that she did
“Your Honor, while that may be true of the airline reservation, the same cannot be said of the information we obtained from the Finchley Road Medical Centre itself. They confirmed that Miss Olsen was indeed a patient at the center and that she had an abortion there.”
He sat down and again Dawn Oxenberg rose.
“But this is entirely hearsay. Counsel hasn’t even brought along the secretary who allegedly spoke to the medical center — ”
“She’s covering the phones! We’re a small law firm.”
“Or brought along a notarized statement from her.”
“She’s a paralegal and I would have thought that on this point at least Counsel would have the professional courtesy to trust her and myself on this matter.”
“Even if we accept that this Miss…”
“Cortez.”
“… Cortez was telling the truth, what does that prove? She spoke to a person on the phone who
The judge — the same man who had granted the temporary restraining order — turned to Nat.
“She does have a point there.”
“That’s why we’re trying to get the records from the medical center. But they’re eight hours ahead of us. It’s the middle of the night there. It’s impossible to get this sort of information out of hours — especially in England where they have very strict privacy and data protection laws.”
“Then why was it left so late in the day?” asked Oxenberg. Her manner was truculent, her tone accusatory. Alex had warned him that she would give no quarter.
“As we explained at the earlier hearing, we only found out about it because we have a computer expert who was able to recover deleted files from Dorothy Olsen’s computer. And the only reason we have that computer is because Mrs. Olsen gave it to us.”
“Why didn’t they ask her to give it to them earlier, Your Honor?” asked the ADA contemptuously.
“We didn’t even know of its
The judge turned to the ADA.
“That does seem reasonable, doesn’t it, Miss Oxenberg?”
“Again we’re moving away from the big picture here. All this evidence proves is that Dorothy Olsen was alive for a
Nat took a deep breath.
“Your Honor, the People’s case was based on certain implicit assumptions. Chief among them was the assumption that Dorothy Olsen had no plans to leave or vanish or run away and that she was either killed round