Mercy

“Interesting.”

The tone was as non-committal as the words, but Alex sensed that Jonathan was afraid.

“And one of the things we’ve found is a poem.”

“A poem?”

Jonathan was smiling with apparent curiosity. Alex sensed that he was toying with him.

“Yes. It read: ‘You dragged me before the mirror / And ripped the clothes off of me.’ We thought that the words ‘ripped the clothes off of me’ had something to do with the rape. But we didn’t understand the words: ‘You dragged me before the mirror.’ I was wondering if you might know what that meant?”

Alex noticed that Jonathan was avoiding his eyes.

“I haven’t a clue,” he replied. But there was a break in his voice. Alex sensed that he was getting somewhere.

“We also have evidence that she went to England.”

“To England?”

“Yes.”

Jonathan turned away.

“I didn’t know it was to England. Your secretary — Juanita — told me she’d bought an airline ticket to somewhere, but she didn’t know where to.”

“Well it was to England, to London in fact … to have an abortion.”

Jonathan whirled round.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Any other information you want to drop on me?”

“Yes … she paid the clinic forty thousand pounds sterling.”

He had been watching Jonathan’s face carefully, monitoring it for the slightest of reactions and for a fraction of a second he thought he saw a fleeting smile. But it was gone in an instant.

16:57 PDT

“We’re back outside San Quentin prison,” said Martine Yin into the microphone, “where crowds are beginning to gather ahead of the impending execution of Clayton Burrow. As you can see behind me, two groups have formed: one to show their support for the murder victim and voice their approval of the forthcoming execution; the other to protest against not only this execution, but the death penalty in general.”

The camera zoomed out and panned to show one group of demonstrators and then returned to Martine.

“Show us yer tits, babe!” yelled one of the prison inmates in the association room where they were watching the news report on the large TV.

“Earlier today, Eyewitness News exclusively revealed that the governor had offered clemency to Burrow on the condition that he reveal where he buried the body of the victim. However, there is no information to suggest that Burrow has agreed to this deal. Furthermore, a spokesman for the warden of the prison has confirmed that he has received no instructions and that plans for the execution are continuing until he is informed otherwise.”

The image of Martine talking to the camera was replaced by the shots of her unsuccessful attempt to get a statement from Alex.

“Earlier today, this reporter tried to obtain a comment from Burrow’s lawyer Alex Sedaka. But Sedaka preferred to stay mute at this time.”

“Typical of a lawyer,” yelled one inmate as he watched the communal screen. “They never talk when you want ‘em to and they never shut up when you don’t!”

Several of the other inmates laughed at that.

“You know, I recommended him,” said Charlie, another inmate.

A couple of the others looked at him.

“When?” shot back one.

“When I was in the cell next to him. Burrow needed a new lawyer ‘cause the other firm had given up and were trying to ditch the case. So I told him to try this Sedaka guy.”

“Did Sedaka represent you?”

“No, I was represented by some wet-behind-the-ears kid from the Public Defender’s office. But he told me about Sedaka. Sedaka had just won some big case with a drug dealer’s broad and everyone was calling him the next big thing in criminal law.”

“Who was the kid?” asked another inmate with a cheeky grin.

“Why?”

“‘Cause I just want to be sure not to hire him!”

“Why?” asked Charlie irritably.

“‘Cause if he was any good, you wouldn’t be here!”

The other inmates laughed. Charlie merely scowled.

“For your information he must be pretty good, ‘cause he told me that he was working off his notice at the Public Defender’s office and Sedaka had just hired him.”

17:06 PDT

“As my rabbi used to say to the congregation every Yom Kippur: it’s nice to see you again.”

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