No Way Out

afternoon and I read the material in the morning to prepare for it.”

“Did anyone see you there?”

“No.”

“Mr Claymore, did you rape Bethel Newton?”

“No,” Claymore replied, it was only a moment’s hesitation. But it was enough to damage his case.

Damn! thought Alex, as he looked on helplessly.

No matter that there were a dozen legitimate reasons for his hesitation. No matter that he was a man carrying the burden and baggage of his guilty past. That momentary hesitation was enough to inflict a mortal wound upon his defense. Andi didn’t seem to notice this. She just ploughed on with her questioning.

“Have you had any form of sexual contact with a woman since you came back to America of your own free will to serve out your sentence?”

“I’ve been haunted by what I did for many years. Since I came back to America I haven’t been able to touch a woman.”

“No further questions.”

Andi sat down. Sarah Jensen rose slowly and waited a few seconds before commencing.

“Mr Claymore, you say that no one saw you at home during the hours in question. Did anyone telephone at that time?”

“No.”

“So no one can actually confirm your alibi?”

“That’s right.”

“Tell me something. You say you haven’t been able to touch a woman since you came back to America, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever fantasized about touching a woman, since you came back?”

Andi was about to stand up to object. Alex put a subtle, restraining hand on her forearm.

“I… I guess so.” He was hesitant again. “Sometimes I’ve thought about it.”

“Have you ever fantasized about raping a woman since you came back?”

Andi looked round at Alex, the look on her face bordering on desperation. He shook his head gently. Claymore who had seen this, remained silent, a glazed stare in his eyes, as if he were remembering something.

“The witness will answer the question,” said Justice Wagner firmly.

“I could never do a thing like that. Not now. When I look at women, I see people I’ve hurt.”

Andi glanced at the jurors with her peripheral vision.

“I didn’t ask whether you did anything like that now. I asked whether or not you fantasized about.”

“No, of course not. I’ve been a different man since I came back. I put my past behind me. I’ve never thought about that sort of thing. Not since I came back.”

“So does that mean you don’t remember raping those girls?”

“I… I remember it. I’ll never forget it.”

“But you don’t remember their faces?”

“Oh yes… I remember their faces. I see them every night, in the darkness… when I’m alone in my bedroom.”

“You relive the ordeal?”

“Yes.”

“So you do think about raping women?”

“I… I…”

He didn’t know what to say. What to him was reliving a nightmare from which he couldn’t escape, was to her the savoring of sadistic memories from his past — and he could see by the looks on the jurors’ faces that they accepted the prosecutor’s version, not his.

“According to the records from the TV station, a call to your number from your producer was logged out at nine-twenty. How do you account for that?”

“I must have been in the bathroom. The toilet must have been flushing when the phone rang. Sometimes you can’t hear the phone when the toilet’s flushing.”

Sarah waited in silence, to allow the juror’s skepticism to kick in.

“Was your car in the driveway on the day in question?

“No, it was stolen two days before.”

“You mean you reported it stolen?”

“I mean it was stolen.”

“Did it ever show up again?”

“You know what happens when a car gets stolen. They strip it down and you never see it again.”

“Just answer the question, please.”

“It hasn’t been found. I rented one.”

“And what make and color of the car that was stolen?”

“An aquamarine Mercedes.”

“Just like the victim described. No further questions.”

Sarah Jensen sat. Andi stood up to salvage as much as she could on redirect.

“Just a couple of questions to clear up some things. Mr Claymore your car was stolen on the third of June?”

“That’s correct.”

“And at that time, Bethel Newton wasn’t even in the State of California.”

“So I understand.”

Alex sat down smiling. Claymore looked at him tensely, then at Andi.

“Re-cross?”

Sarah Jensen stood up again.

“When did you report your car stolen, Mr Claymore?”

“I…” he trailed off. “I told the cops about it when I was arrested in connection with this case. I intended to report it before that but-”

“I’m not interested in what you intended Mr Claymore, only what you did. No further questions.”

The judge looked over at the clock above the main entrance.

“In view of the hour, I think we’ll adjourn for lunch. The court will reconvene at two-thirty.”

“All rise!”

Everyone stood. The judge left through the door beside her bench. Alex and Andi started gathering up their papers as Claymore walked up to them from the witness stand, a member of the sheriff’s department standing nearby just in case he got any funny ideas. He was looking at Andi, and the look was gentle, almost embarrassed.

“I just want to thank both of you for what you’ve done for me.”

He was looking, not at Alex Sedaka, but at Andi. She nodded, embarrassed.

“I have to go,” she said uncomfortably. “I’ll meet you back here at two-thirty.”

Wednesday, 26 August 2009 — 14:45

“So Mr. Johnson,” said Alex, “you amplified the sample in the thermal cycler?”

“Yes,” said the nervous eighteen-year-old boy on the witness stand. He was thin, but not tall and could easily have been two or three years younger than his age.

Alex had called Elias Claymore first in accordance with the general rule that the defendant should be called first, if he was to testify at all. Some jurisdictions required it, in order that the defendant should be in the same position as other witnesses subject to the rule of the court — i.e. not able to hear testimony already given by