LITMIR.BIZ

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now you think he’s innocent?’ Juanita asked incredulously.

      ‘Until today I never even considered it. But innocent or guilty, I think there’s something he’s not telling me.’

      ‘And you think it’s something to do with this high school feud?’

      ‘It’s a good place to start—the relationship between the victim and the accused.’

      ‘Are we looking for anything in particular?’

      ‘Let’s start off with motive.’

      ‘I thought the feud was the motive?’

      ‘No, I mean the cause of the feud. Was it just a culture clash between the male jock and the female geek? Or was it a case of hell hath no fury? Maybe some of the other students know something.’

      ‘It’s gonna be hard to track down the phone numbers. And I can’t leave the office, can I?’

      ‘Use the internet. Maybe there’s discussion about it online. We also need to know who her friends were. And if she had any enemies—other than Burrow, that is.’

      ‘It’s going to be hard. You know how it works on the web. You do a search and it throws up a million irrelevant items.’

      ‘Do your best, Juanita. I’ll be back in fifteen.’

      Nat smiled. Twenty-five was more realistic. He’d have to floor it.

      Alex put in another call, this time to Information. He asked for Esther Olsen’s number, adding that she lived in Sunnyvale. Fortunately the number was listed. He followed up by putting in a call to her.

      ‘Yes?’ The voice was weak…nervous.

      ‘Mrs Olsen? It’s Alex Sedaka here.’

      Her mood seemed to brighten.

      ‘Oh, hallo, Mr Sedaka.’

      Alex was embarrassed. He didn’t know how to continue.

      ‘Listen, I’m afraid I have some bad news.’

      ‘He…he wouldn’t tell you?’

      She sounded sad, but not angry or bitter as he’d feared.

      ‘He said he didn’t know. He still maintains he’s innocent.’

      ‘Can I ask you a question?’ Esther Olsen’s voice was croaky now.

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Do you think he’s guilty?’

      This was a question that Alex couldn’t answer. Not that his own private thoughts were privileged. But a lawyer’s view of his client’s innocence or guilt is partly based on what his client tells him, and this could be a slippery slope.

      ‘I don’t know, Mrs Olsen.’

      This was the diplomatic response if not an altogether truthful one. Alex pressed on.

      ‘But can I ask you a question?’

      ‘Yes?’

      ‘Do you know anything about the relationship between them? I mean, I know they hated each other, but do you know why?’

      There was a moment of hesitation.

      ‘I don’t know. She never really confided in me. Like I told you, I was estranged from her before she…’

      ‘Did she confide in anyone? A friend? A relative?’

      ‘Not really. I mean, she got on well with Jonathan, but—’

      ‘That’s her brother, yes?’

      ‘Yes. But he was younger—five years younger. She probably didn’t talk to him about it because he wouldn’t have understood—and also, she wouldn’t have wanted to put the burden of her problems on him.’

      ‘So you’re saying she kept her problems bottled up?’

      ‘That’s right.’

      Alex’s mind was racing ahead. A girl with problems and no one to talk to? That was a perfect recipe for suicide. But there was no body. And how did all that incriminating evidence end up in the apartment where Burrow and his mother lived?

      ‘Could I ask you another thing, Mrs Olsen? About Dorothy liquidating her trust fund and buying that expensive jewelry. Do you have any idea why she might have done that?’

      ‘No.’

      Esther Olsen sounded tired, as if she had been through all this many times before—which she probably had.

      ‘Was she the sort of girl who was interested in jewelry?’

      ‘No, not really.’

      ‘And you don’t have a clue where the jewelry is?’

      ‘I…I thought that maybe Burrow stole it…when he killed her.’

      ‘But now?’

      He was prompting her, picking up on her hesitance.

      ‘I don’t know.’

      ‘Do you think she may have been planning to run away?’

      ‘She…might have been.’

      ‘Could she have been planning to run away with Clayton Burrow?’

      ‘Certainly not! She hated him! And he hated her!’

      ‘Are you sure it wasn’t just an act?’

      ‘No, Mr Sedaka, it definitely wasn’t an act!’

      Alex had been speculating that maybe Burrow had tricked her into thinking he was going to run away with her and persuaded her to liquidate her trust fund and then killed her and stolen the jewelry. But Esther Olsen’s reaction had pretty much quashed that theory. She may have been estranged from her daughter, but a mother’s perceptions counted for something. And if Esther Olsen said that Dorothy wasn’t planning on running away with Clayton Burrow, then Dorothy Olsen was not planning on running away with Clayton Burrow.

      ‘Can you think of anyone at all that she might have spoken to? A friend that she might have confided in?’

      He waited a while for an answer.

      ‘There was one thing,’ Esther Olsen’s voice came out of the silence.

      ‘Yes?’

      ‘She had a computer that she was always working at—an old laptop. She used to spend hours in front of it, either online or just writing.’

      ‘Writing what?’

      ‘I don’t know, but she treated it like an old friend.’

      ‘You think she might have confided in her computer?’

      ‘I don’t know. She never let me see it.’

      ‘Do you still have it?’

      ‘Yes. But why do you think this will help?’

      ‘I just think that if I can unravel what was going on between Clayton—my client and your daughter, I might be able to make some progress.’

      He didn’t add that he was also still mindful of the possibility that his client might actually be telling the truth, despite the long odds.

      ‘I still have the computer. I haven’t switched it on since the day she vanished. I don’t even know if it works. But I still have it.’

      ‘Look, Mrs Olsen, I know this might sound like real chutzpah, but would it be possible for me to borrow the laptop? To take a look at what she’s got on it? Just in case I can find anything that might help.’

      ‘We haven’t got much time.’

      ‘I know. I’ll send a courier round

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