You Think You Know Me Pretty Well aka Mercy (49 page)

BOOK: You Think You Know Me Pretty Well aka Mercy
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“And what about Jonathan? You didn’t tell him either.”

“No, but he found out. That’s why he came to the office yesterday.”

“How
did
he find out, by the way?”

“They showed some footage of the two of us coming out of the Supreme Court after the certiorari hearing. That was when they were reporting Dusenbury’s offer.”

“Which you leaked.”

“Which I leaked. He thought he recognized me, but he wasn’t sure. That’s why he came to the office. He wanted to see me in person to make sure. But I wasn’t there so he hung round and ambushed Juanita when she went out for lunch. Then he walked her back to the office and that’s when he saw me. That was when he knew for sure.”

“Did he say anything?”

“No, but we locked eyes and I knew that he knew and he knew that I knew.”

“And is that how you got the spectator’s pass?”

“Exactly. Later during the day he tried to call me. He didn’t have my cell phone number so he called the office. But Juanita kept answering, so he kept hanging up. She thought it was a crank caller, so I said I’d answer. When I did, he spoke. He told me that we had to meet.”

“And is that why you had to go out?”

“Yes. We spoke again before that. I couldn’t talk to him when Juanita was round, but she went out a couple of times after that. We arranged that I’d come round at some point. I was actually outside, watching, when you left his place.”

“What, after he told me about killing Edgar?”

“Exactly. After you left, I went in and we talked over old times. And I…”

Nat had to stop. His eyes were welling up with tears again.

“It was like the burden of all the years was lifted off my shoulders. By that stage I was ready to tell Mom.” His voice was cracking now. “But I stupidly –
stupidly
-
waited. I wanted to wait till after the execution.” He could only dam up the tears long enough to add one more sentence. “
And now it’s too late
!”

Alex tried to offer some words of comfort.

“I’m so … sorry. I wish…”

He trailed off. It was foolish to wish. You can’t take back what’s already happened. Life doesn’t offer many second chances.

And he knew that in life – once you make a choice at the fork in the road – you can never go back. He had learned that from Melody – and Nat had learned it from just about every major event in his troubled, painful life.

But the other thing that Alex had learned was that if it’s a mistake to make a snap decision on what to do, it’s an even bigger mistake to rush to judgement over a fellow human being.

“There’s one thing I still don’t understand. You didn’t just get me to take on the Clayton Burrow case. You badgered your way into my office
before
that …
before I got the case
. Why did you do that? Why didn’t you just try to get a job with the law firm that already
had
the case? They were a much bigger law firm. They were more likely to have a vacant position. Did you try them as well? Didn’t they have a vacancy? Or did you mailshot a load of firms and just strike it lucky with me?”

Through his tears, Nat turned slightly in Alex’s direction and opened his mouth to speak.

Then it happened.

Alex was at the curve that overlooked Gull Rock. He had to make a sharp right turn to take him away from the cliff face and then a hairpin turn to the left to take him back to the cliff face, which was shallower from then on.

But he never even made it to the hairpin turn. It may have been the tires. It may have been oil on the road. But when he made the sharp right turn he lost control of the car and it skidded off the road and onto a steep decline. At this point, the cliff was bare of foliage that might offer traction or friction.

Nat screamed, while Alex struggled frantically to regain control as he saw the car heading for that sheer drop onto the rocks below. Somehow he managed to hold it together for a split second, so they missed the sheer drop.

They skidded sideways onto a slightly shallower drop where some foliage offered a trace of resistance, but then the car bounced and started tumbling sideways down into a steep gully, bouncing every time the roof or wheels hit the foliage beneath them.

Their seat belts held them in place but, even before they hit the bottom, Alex could see blood oozing from Nat’s head from the impacts.

And then – completely inverted – they hit rock bottom amid a shattering of glass. The rocks and the ocean waves lapping away at them and water flooding into the vehicle.

Alex looked round and saw in the dim light that Nat was unconscious, or at least dazed into that semi-conscious twilight world that made even the most basic life-preserving actions impossible.

He quickly unfastened his own seat belt, falling out of his seat in the process and then frantically struggled to unfasten Nat’s. He caught Nat to stop him falling and hitting his head. Then it was an even more frantic struggle to open a door and effect an escape before they were fully submerged. He would have preferred to get out through the driver’s door, on the side closest to the rocks, where there was still a thin sliver of land to offer them temporary safety. But it would have been hard to pull Nat past the steering wheel.

He considered getting out on the driver’s side and then swimming round to the passenger side to rescue Nat. But he wasn’t sure if he would make it. And the thought of leaving Nat, even temporarily, seemed like cowardice. So instead he leaned past Nat, opened the door and then pushed Nat out, following immediately.

In the rough waves of the Pacific Ocean, he couldn’t tell if the tide was coming in or going out. But he knew that he had to get himself and Nat onto the rock-strewn foot of the cliff as quickly as possible. The water was still shallow enough to stand in and keep his chin above water. But he didn’t know how long it would stay that way and the waves were too rough to keep his balance for long.

So he got behind Nat, held him and leaned back into the classic life-saving position, kicking to propel himself round the car and toward the sliver of land at the foot of the cliff that offered their only hope of salvation. He noticed a stirring in his arms and he realized that Nat was regaining consciousness.

Then an almighty wave swept them onto the precious strip of land, Alex’s back crashing into the wall of the cliff with some considerable force. He realized that nothing was broken, but realized too that he had been lucky. For an instant he let go of Nat to rub his back and soothe the pain. But then, as Nat pulled himself up onto a rock and struggled to his feet in a state bordering on sleepwalking, the undertow took hold. While Alex in his half-seated position close to the cliff face was able to hold his position, Nat, who was standing a yard or so further out, was caught by the undertow and swept off his feet. Before he was able to grab on to the rock that he had used to get into a standing position, he was dragged out to sea.

He screamed again as he twisted his body to face Alex and reached out with his arms like a child desperate to be held. And despite the dim light, Alex was able to discern that the look of fear in Nat’s eyes was also like that of a child.

Or was it a look of sadness?

Whatever it was, it remained frozen in Alex’s memory as the tidal current – evidently going out – pulled Nat away from him.

He didn’t see Nat go under at any time. All he saw was a head bobbing up and down on the turbulent surface, drifting further and further away. And all he heard was a voice crying out indiscernibly from the distance.

 

 

 

09:55 PDT

 

It wasn’t Melody. It wasn’t his wife whose beautiful face smiled down at him when he opened his eyes.

But it was another beautiful angel.

He didn’t know her name. But she had a young, innocent, fresh face and the clear complexion of one who has a long life ahead of her and everything to live for.

Is this heaven?

Was she his guide to paradise?

He wanted to ask her. But he didn’t trust his mouth to speak.

Then he felt a plastercast on his leg and he realized that he wasn’t in heaven. He was in a hospital. They had saved him.

Someone
had saved him.

He couldn’t remember. He remembered the car crash and the waves – and he remembered trying to save Nat. But that was all. After that it was a blank.

“Mr. Sedaka.”

Alex nodded weakly.

“There’s someone who’d like to have word with you.”

Alex was confused, but not frightened. After everything he’d been through yesterday, there was very little that could frighten him.

He nodded, still weak, but gaining strength.

He felt the upper half of his body being raised.

I’m being raised from the dead like a Freemason
, he thought, with ironic humor. Eventually a man came into view. It took a few seconds for Alex’s eyes to refocus on the face of the man who stood further back than the nurse. But there was no mistaking that ample girth.

The governor smiled.

“Mr. Sedaka.”

The tone was polite, friendly. Alex nodded for Dusenbury to continue.

“It’s been quite a roller-coaster for you, Alex, this past twenty-four hours.”

“Quite,” said Alex, stiffly, the first word he’d used since regaining consciousness. He wasn’t altogether comfortable with this situation.

“I feel bad about what happened to Burrow.”

Alex was tempted to say “and well you should.” But this time he resisted the temptation to give voice to his emotions.

The truth of the matter was that he no longer knew
what
he felt. Burrow was innocent of murder and by all accounts a wretched figure in the end. But he had still been the bully who had made Dorothy’s youth a living hell – the rapist who had violated her when she was already suffering a tortured life.

Nat had obstructed justice – to the point of sending an innocent man to the death chamber. But he had had the excuse of having been subjected to the most excruciating mental torture not only at the hands of Clayton Burrow, but also at the hands of Edgar Olsen.

How could Alex express outrage or indignation, when his own moral compass had been sent haywire by the turbulent force-field that raged round him?

“I’d like to make up for it, in some way,” said the governor.

“How?” asked Alex, skeptically. He hadn’t meant it to sound cold, but that was the way it came out, as if he was brushing off Dusenbury’s offer before he even knew what it was.

“I can grant David an amnesty on the computer hacking charges.”

“I thought those charges are federal?”

“Okay, but I can protect him against Section 484 charges – ”

“He’s not going down on a State 484’cause there was no pecuniary gain. The only thing I’m worried about is a US 1030.”

“Well I can’t help you there ‘cause that’s federal. But I’m pretty sure you can get him a good lawyer. In any case, I don’t think he has too much to worry about. He can always cite the fact that he was trying to save an innocent man’s life.”

“That’s not a defense in law.”

“No!” the governor’s voice boomed into life. “But it’ll make one hell of a plea in mitigation!”

Alex could see that the governor was just trying to be helpful. There was no reason to fight him.

“I guess you’re right.”

“Besides,” Dusenbury continued. “I have a feeling the feds won’t be too anxious to bring the case to trial. It’ll throw a spotlight on the execution of an innocent man and give too much impetus to the anti-capital punishment lobby. There’s a big debate over that right now. New Jersey’s getting rid of it. They had that big amnesty in Illinois. And this great state of ours has a backlog so long that even if we execute five people a month it’ll take eleven years just to clear up the backlog!”

“What happened to Nat?”

“We don’t know. Some clothes washed ashore at Maintop Island, but no body.”

Alex felt saddened by this, in some inexplicable way.

“They think he’s dead?”

“They assume it,” said the governor. “But it’s not yet official.”

 “Is he classified as a fugitive?”

“Technically he’s a wanted man … obstruction of justice. But in reality we’re just waiting for his body to turn up.”

Alex remembered the famous case of the three prisoners who escaped from Alactraz. Only one body ever turned up – and it was so badly decomposed that they couldn’t be sure if it was one of the escapees – but it was widely assumed that all three of them had drowned. Even though bodies tend to float after a few days, on the Pacific coast a body could be swept out to sea and never found unless it had a chance encounter with ship or boat.

And as for the clothes, the body of the Alcatraz escapee that turned up weeks later was naked. A body could be stripped of its clothes by the currents and decomposition. It did not imply intent or volitional action by the person who wore the clothes or indeed anyone else.

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