Mercy

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 right now…if it’s all right with you?’

There was a short pause and the sound of a sigh.

‘It’s all right, Mr Sedaka. You can send a courier as soon as possible. Just please…bring my daughter home for me.’

11:09 PDT (#ulink_4c84010c-545c-56f7-9442-19fe9e5008c6)

‘Slow down a bit! My fingers keep missing the goddamn keys!’

‘You told me to make it fast.’

The TV van was winding its way through the midmorning traffic, following the same route that Nat and Alex were taking. Martine was sitting at the front with the driver. The cameraman and soundman sat in the middle row of seats, while the spark and boom operator sat in the back, holding on to the equipment every time the van swerved.

But Martine was trying to make a call on her cell phone at the same time, and the constant swerving wasn’t helping.