You Think You Know Me Pretty Well aka Mercy (13 page)

“Really?” asked Jonathan, with raised eyebrows. “There’s professional kudos and prestige. There’s book deals and Hollywood, there’s—”

“
Now hold on a minute!
I’m
not
planning on turning your sister’s death into a book deal or a Hollywood movie if that’s what you’re thinking … Or should I say, your half sister?”

He was monitoring Jonathan for a reaction. There was no sign of panic or anger or any other emotion on Jonathan’s face. He held his head back, but it was more like he was trying to remember something or just to concentrate.

“You know about that?”

“We have the DNA report. I was wondering if it affected your relationship with her … one way or the other.”

“I don’t think it really did. I mean, we were loyal to each other. We couldn’t have been any more loyal if we were full siblings. So I guess you could say it didn’t affect us.”

“But you
did
know about it?”

“It came out in the heat of a domestic argument. But after that it was never talked about – at least not by me or Dorothy.”

“You didn’t want to know more?”

“We knew all we needed to know.”

“So which of you … was…?”

Jonathan was shaking his head.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

A tense silence settled between them for a few seconds. Alex knew that he would make no more progress on this point. Not with Jonathan at any rate.

“Can I ask you something Jonathan?”

“What?”

“He used to bully her in high school.”

“That’s not a question” said Jonathan.

Alex surveyed Jonathan’s face for signs of emotion. There was none.

“I know. But what I wanted to ask was… was it physical bullying or verbal?”

“Verbal mostly. Like, he used to make fun of her name.”

“Dorothy?”

“
Our
name. He used to call her Al Jolsen – like that was funny.”

“Are you sure there wasn’t more to it?”

“Like what?”

“Well sometimes, when kids make fun of each other its because they… like each other, but don’t want to admit it.”

Jonathan scowled and his tone was a sneer. “You think he had the hots for my sis?”

“Did he?”

“Fuck off man!”

“You’re sure.”

“I…”

He trailed off, as if the first trace of doubt had set in.

“So it’s… possible.”

“No it’s
not
possible.”

“Look Jonathan… I’ve seen her picture. Your sister was
not
unattractive.”

“Clayton Burrow could have had any girl in the school – so why did he…”

Again he trailed off as if he had said too much.

Alex decided to press home his advantage.

“How did she feel about him?”

“How do turkey’s feel about Thanksgiving?”

“So is it possible that he killed her because she rejected him?”

“I think you’re talking a load of bullshit!”

Alex took a deep breath and tried again.

“What about the other way round?”

“What do you mean?”

This time Jonathan’s tone was defensive.

“Well if he bullied her that might have given her a motive to want to see
him
suffer.”

Jonathan scowled again.

“What are you saying? That she faked her own death and framed him?”

Alex hesitated. He chose his next words carefully.

“You’re the second person who’s raised that possibility today.”

Jonathan got up and reached for his jacket.

“Well before you get carried away with the idea, let me tell you that he did have a motive for killing her.”

“And what’s that?”

Jonathan was putting on his jacket as he replied.

“She got him canned over the bullying.”

And with these words, Jonathan angrily left Sedaka’s office.

Alex wasn’t surprised by what Jonathan had told him just now. But the hesitancy over the question of whether it was a “love turned to hate” opened up some interesting possibilities.

“I have to go back to San Quentin,” he told Juanita through the open doors of the office as he grabbed his own jacket.

“Why? Something’s come up?”

“Could be. I need to get some straight answers from my client.”

“Good luck.”

She sounded mocking. But he was too busy to think about it. As he was walking toward the entrance, she remembered something.

“Oh, boss, there something I forgot to tell you. We had a call from David.”

“I haven’t got time right now. Call me on my cell phone.”

He slipped out and closed the door behind him.

13:33 PDT

Nat had gone once round the block and parked down the road, waiting in his car and watching the entrance to the office building. He was about to get out and walk into the building, when he noticed a flurry of activity. A camera was suddenly hoisted onto the shoulder of the cameraman and Martine patted down her hair quickly and sprang into action.

A second later, Alex came into view. He had just emerged from the building and they were poised to ambush him. Martine walked up smartly with a microphone and appeared to ask him a question. She thrust the microphone toward his mouth and tried to intercept him when he moved to the side, but he kept walking as if she wasn’t there. When the inevitable collision occurred, she moved aside. He offered no apology as he walked over to his car, got in and drove off.

Martine was about to speak into the microphone – presumably to comment on Alex’s rudeness – when she appeared to change her mind and instead barked an instruction at her crew. Within seconds they were back in the van driving off in pursuit of Alex, or at least in the same direction.

Nat got back into his car and drove it to the parking space vacated by the van. Then he got out and entered the building. As he did so, he had that prickly feeling on the back of his neck.

13:42 PDT

Juanita had gone back to her internet search. It was a frustrating process, as she didn’t really know what she was looking for. At the back of her mind she wondered about the relationship between Dorothy and Jonathan, the fact that they were only half siblings.

Did Jonathan know? Had Alex asked him?

Alex! She had forgotten that she had still hadn’t told him what David had told her. Alex had told her to phone him. She put the call through now.

“Hi, Juanita.”

She quickly filled him in on what David had explained about the EasySabre booking and his fear that he wouldn’t be able to find any more details, at least not within the tight timeframe they had available.

“But did he say he’d try?” asked Alex.

“Oh yes, he’ll give it his best shot. But I was just wondering, boss, maybe we should ask Mrs. Olsen.”

“I’m sure if she’d known anything about Dorothy booking a trip at that time she’d’ve told us already.”

“We may as well ask her. We’ve got nothing to lose.”

“Okay, go ahead.”

“By the way, I was just wondering, why this sudden rush to see Burrow? Did Jonathan say anything important?”

He told her what Jonathan had said about Dorothy getting Jonathan canned.

“It doesn’t really change anything, does it?”

“It strengthens his motive,” said Alex acknowledged bitterly, almost like it was a personal betrayal.

“Wait a minute, boss. That reminds me of something you said.”

“About what?”

“About his mom having a motive.”

“If I remember rightly, Juanita, you rained on my parade when I came up with that one.”

 “Yes, but if Dorothy actually got Burrow canned, it’s a whole different ball game. Now it’s no longer a case of Ma Grissom pimping for her retarded son. This time it’s revenge for sabotaging her son’s education.”

Alex seemed to be thinking about this.

“What did Nat say about Burrow’s ma?”

“He hasn’t got back yet.”

“Still?”

“Oh, wait a minute. I think that’s him.”

“Okay, ask him what he got and we’ll talk later. I need to step on it and I want to make sure I get to San Q in one piece.”

“Okay. Talk to you later.”

Nat came through the door just as Juanita hung up.

“Is Alex in?”

“No, I was just talking to him. He’s on his way back to San Quentin.”

“Anything new?”

“Not really. Jonathan Olsen was here and the boss decided to go and see Burrow right after that.”

Nat was taking off his jacket.

“Any particular reason?”

“I think maybe he wanted to check out some of the things Jonathan told him.”

“Like what?”

“Apparently, Dorothy got Clayton Burrow kicked out of high school.”

“Doesn’t surprise me.”

Nat went into the kitchen and re-filled the coffee maker.

“Why’s Alex off on a wild goose chase to San Quentin now?” he called out

“He didn’t have time for details.”

“Coffee?”

“Yes, please,” Juanita replied. The sound of the grinder and the smell of coffee beans filled the air. Juanita raised her voice above the background noise. “So what’s your take on Mrs. Burrow?”

“She gives body and soul to the words ‘trailer trash.’”

“Do you think the latest info about Burrow getting canned elevates her as a suspect?”

“Why should it?”

“It kind of strengthens her motive, doesn’t it?”

“Only if you buy it.”

“And you don’t?”

“Clayton Burrow was the kind of kid who would probably have got canned from high school sooner or later, regardless of anything that Dorothy Olsen or her brother might’ve done.”

“That doesn’t mean he didn’t blame her … or that his mother didn’t blame her.”

“No, but I’ve just met the woman and I can tell you that she doesn’t give too bits for her son or his education. There’s no way she would have killed for him. She’s a selfish woman. What’s that word Alex likes using? Narcissistic. She didn’t even notice what Clayton was turning into, when it was happening in front of her nose. When she finally did wake up and smell the coffee, it was only for long enough to resent the monster that she’d unleashed upon the world – almost like a latter-day Frankenstein.”

“Will you quit with your literary comparisons?”

Nat, she recalled, had a bachelor’s degree in English Literature.

“What I mean is, everyone misunderstands Frankenstein. He wanted to create life, but he created something that he couldn’t love. The monster didn’t start out a monster. It started out as a creature with feelings that his creator couldn’t bring himself to love. And love was all the creature wanted. So the creature became a monster because he was starved of the love that he craved. I think it was the same with Burrow. It’s like that saying that Alex misquoted over the phone to you.”

Juanita raised her eyebrows, quizzically.

“Hell hath no fury,” Nat explained.

“Oh, yeah.
Everyone
misquotes Shakespeare.”

“Congreve actually. William Congreve. The full saying is ‘Heaven hath no rage like love to hatred turned. Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.’ But it isn’t just a woman. A man needs love too. And sometimes it’s harder for a man because he’s culturally indoctrinated not to show it.”

“Are we still in English Lit class? Or have we moved on to Sociology 101?”

“I’m just saying that monsters are created, not born. And it was Sally Burrow who created Clayton, both the boy and the monster. And all because she couldn’t love him.”

Juanita had picked up on something in Nat’s words.

“You feel sorry for him, don’t you?”

“I don’t really know. It’s the old free will debate. At what point do we stop feeling sorry for the wrongdoer and start blaming him?”

“And when
do
we?” asked Juanita as Nat brought in the coffee.

Nat opened his mouth, but nothing came out. The issue wasn’t quite as straightforward as it sounded. After a second or two, he found his voice.

“In the immortal words of that guy from
Kung Fu
: ‘I seek not to know all the answers…’”

Juanita held up her right hand and put on a mock Chinese accent.

“‘… but rather to understand the questions.’”

They burst into childish laughter.

“You may know your books,” said Juanita. “But I know my TV.”