Mercy - David Kessler

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11:28 PDT

      ‘We’re bringing you this special report from outside the building that houses the state governor’s San Francisco office for a special, exclusive report about the latest developments in the Clayton Burrow case.’

      Martine Yin was delivering her usual smooth, polished performance. Not a strand of the glossy, jet-black hair out of place, the skin smoothed and softened by foundation, the eyelashes defined by just the right amount of mascara, the man’s waistcoat that made her look professional yet sexy—the whole picture perfectly crafted to tell the story and sell the story-teller.

      ‘This station has learned that Governor Dusenbury has offered clemency to Clayton Burrow on the condition that he reveals where he buried the body of eighteen-year-old Dorothy Olsen, whom Burrow murdered some nine years ago. The governor made the offer in a private meeting earlier today with Alex Sedaka, Clayton Burrow’s lawyer.

      ‘However, this station is now in a position to reveal that this meeting was not quite as private as it was supposed to be, because also present at the meeting was Dorothy Olsen’s mother, Esther. But the most surprising aspect of this whole new development is that it was Esther Olsen who convinced Governor Dusenbury to make this extraordinary offer. It is not entirely clear what motivated Mrs Olsen to make such a generous request on behalf of the man who murdered her daughter. But there appears to be evidence that Mrs Olsen is suffering from a serious, potentially life-threatening illness and she wants to be able to give her daughter a proper burial while there is still time.’

      Martine stopped and held the nation in her gaze.

      ‘What is also not clear is how Burrow responded to the offer. His lawyer visited him in San Quentin this morning immediately after his meeting with the governor. But Mr Sedaka was tight-lipped when he left the penitentiary after relaying the offer to his client. Since then, neither Mr Sedaka nor the governor’s office has been ready to answer questions.

      ‘Martine Yin, Eyewitness News, the state governor’s office, San Francisco.’

       11:33 PDT

      ‘How the fuck did she find out!’

      Alex had barely got through the front door of the office when Juanita told him about Martine’s broadcast. In the face of Alex’s explosive response, she didn’t so much as bat an eyelid, let alone flinch.

      Juanita was a dark-haired, super-fit Latina beauty, with penetrating eyes that would have made her a good interrogator. She had only known Alex Sedaka for a few months, but that was long enough for her to realize that on the rare occasions when he showed anger, it was not directed at her—even if it might seem that way to an outside observer.

      ‘I don’t know,’ she replied coolly. ‘I called Eyewitness, but they weren’t saying…something about “protecting their sources.” The usual press freedom bullshit.’

      Alex took a deep breath. He hadn’t meant to yell. When he could trust his voice to hold at an acceptable level of calm, Alex spoke again.

      ‘They probably don’t even know themselves.’ Nat looked at him blankly. ‘Anonymous tip-off,’ Alex added.

      ‘You look like you could use a cup of coffee, boss.’

      Juanita was already striding energetically to the kitchen, followed by Alex’s eyes, by the time he replied: ‘Thanks, Juanita.’

      Nat was looking awkward.

      ‘What next?’

      ‘Conference time. We need to work out a strategy.’

      Alex followed Juanita into the kitchen, leading Nat the same way. Juanita was putting fresh coffee beans into the DeLonghi Prima Donna, and pressing the button.

      ‘So what happened?’ she asked over the rumble of the machine.

      Alex quickly filled Juanita in on the events at the penitentiary while the grinding in the background stopped and gave way to an orchestration of burping and frothing.

      ‘So what are we going to do?’

      ‘Well as long as Burrow insists he’s innocent there’s nothing much we can do regarding Dusenbury’s offer.’

      Juanita frowned.

      ‘You just had me spend a lot of time online and now you’re just going to give up?’

      ‘Did you find anything?’

      ‘Not yet.’

      She sounded frustrated.

      ‘The thing is, as I was saying to Nat, we’ve all been assuming that he was guilty. But maybe we’ve been overlooking something.’

      ‘Like what?’ asked Juanita.

      ‘Well maybe he’s protecting someone,’ Alex ventured.

      Juanita screwed her nose up.

      ‘That doesn’t make sense. If he was trying to protect someone then why not just confess to the murder and say that he doesn’t remember where he buried the body?’

      ‘Or maybe he’s telling the truth. Maybe he was framed.’

      This time it was Nat who made a dismissive gesture.

      ‘Ah, come on. You’re not buying that, are you?’ He put on a redneck hillbilly tone, gesticulating at the same time. ‘“She faked her own death and framed me.” That’s just a crock of shit straight out of a comic book.’

      ‘Maybe it wasn’t Dorothy who framed him. Maybe someone else killed Dorothy and framed Clayton.’

      ‘How did they put his fingerprints on the knife?’ Nat wasn’t letting up.

      ‘He slept with a knife under his pillow,’ said Alex. ‘Why shouldn’t it have his dabs?’

      ‘With her blood on the blade?’

      ‘Maybe she got some of her own blood and wiped the knife on it—using gloves and being careful not to leave any fingerprints of her own.’

      ‘So we’re back to blaming Dorothy,’ Juanita chimed in, handing them their coffee mugs.

      Alex realized that his theory didn’t stand up. As they made their way to Juanita’s office, he shifted back to his earlier line.

      ‘Well maybe it was her. Maybe Dorothy set him up for some kind of revenge.’

      ‘And presumably she also planted the blood-stained panties?’

      Nat chuckled when Juanita said this. But Alex wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

      ‘She could have done.’

      ‘And Burrow’s semen?’ asked Juanita.

      ‘Maybe they slept together.’

      Juanita was trying very hard not to roll her eyes.

      ‘So let’s see,’ she said. ‘Dorothy Olsen sleeps with Burrow, gets his semen, stains her panties with blood and his semen, plants them under the floorboards in his apartment, takes the knife from under his pillow, wipes her blood on it and plants that too, then calls the police using a voice changer device and tips them off.’

      ‘That’s the theory,’ said Alex, realizing how absurd it all sounded.

      ‘Now all we need is motive,’ Juanita suggested, echoing Alex’s own comment at his meeting with Burrow at San Quentin.

      ‘There’s also the small matter of breast tissue in Burrow’s freezer,’ Nat chipped in.

      ‘Technically it was his mother’s freezer,’ Juanita

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