Mercy

‘Governor’s office,’ the friendly female voice came through her Bluetooth earpiece when she finally keyed in the right number.

‘Hi, my name is Martine Yin from Eyewitness News. I’d like to interview the governor regarding the Clayton Burrow execution.’

‘I’m sorry. Governor Dusenbury won’t be making any comments on this matter.’

The friendly, sunny voice had become somewhat clipped.

‘Okay, well, can you just tell me, is there any truth in the rumor that the governor has offered Clayton Burrow clemency in return for Burrow revealing where he buried the body of Dorothy Olsen?’

‘Just a minute please.’

She was put on hold and noted with wry amusement that the music they were playing was ‘California, Here I Come.’ After what seemed like well over a minute, the clipped voice came back on the line.

‘I’m sorry, but the governor is unable to comment on such rumors.’

‘So you’re not denying it?’ persisted Martine.

‘The governor is neither admitting nor denying it. As I have said, we do not comment on rumors. If and when there is anything to announce it will be announced in the usual way, Miss…’

‘Thank you very much,’ said Martine. She pressed the red button and smiled.

‘No go, huh?’ said the driver.

‘He doesn’t want to talk about it.’

‘If it’s true, he’ll have to talk sooner or later. Maybe he’s waiting for Burrow’s answer.’

‘He must have an answer by now. We saw Sedaka driving into the pen.’ Her voice became irritable. ‘I just wish we’d followed the shyster when he left the building!’

‘You weren’t to know,’ the driver replied. ‘All the signs said the action was at the pen.’

‘Yeah, well it looks like it’s still that way.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well Sedaka didn’t make any statements to the press.’

‘Maybe he has to report back to the governor first. I mean, they’re going to have to check out whatever his client tells them. If he told them where the body is, they’re still going to have to dig it up and test it to make sure.’

Martine’s eyes lit up.

‘And wouldn’t it be nice to be there when they do?’

11:17 PDT (19:17 BST) (#ulink_829555f6-ffc2-5077-8d05-f911a91f4a40)

Susan White had been agonizing over the report on Eyewitness News. It was all too much. It couldn’t just be a coincidence. She thought that the face looked familiar. But it was the name that made it impossible to ignore.

Dorothy Olsen.

Dorothy had been a sensitive girl but not too talkative. She had never made it clear why she came to England for a procedure that could be done just as easily in America. It wasn’t as if she was a health shopper, seeking free medical treatment under Britain’s National Health Service. This was a private clinic and she had paid a lot for the procedure.

Susan had asked her about it once, but she had just clammed up. It wasn’t that she was shy or secretive, it was just that she had made it clear that she found it too painful to talk. Of course she may have told the doctors, but Susan doubted that she told them more than she had had to.

The nurse speculated that it might have something to do with opposition from within her own family. And also, Nurse White reflected, there might be some very complicated background to the whole case.

But none of this was what was troubling her now. It was the timing. The news report hadn’t specified the exact date but the reporter had said nine years. That was about right. Could it be the same person? The reporter had also said something about Dorothy disappearing on the night of her ‘high school prom.’ According to the records, Dorothy had first approached them in May.Was that when high school proms took place? Susan White didn’t know.

Maybe it’s someone else with the same name…or maybe someone deliberately took her name.

The trouble was, there were just too many things in common: the name, the face, the date. It was too much to dismiss as a coincidence.

Her mind was racing into unfamiliar territory. Maybe there was another explanation. Like what? Twins? An identical twin using her sister’s name? Not very plausible. There was nothing in the Eyewitness News report about a twin sister—something they would surely have mentioned if it had been the case, if only for the human interest angle.

There was no getting away from it. Susan knew that she had to act. Time was of the essence. She found a set of master keys and used them to open one of the offices. She wanted to use the phone without anyone else overhearing. The person she called was Stuart Lloyd, the Chief Administrator who had gone home for the day.

‘Hallo.’ She recognized the voice of Elizabeth, Stuart’s wife.

‘Oh hallo, Mrs Lloyd. It’s Susan White from the clinic. Is Stuart—Mr Lloyd—there?’

‘He’s eating dinner.’

‘Oh I’m sorry.’ Susan didn’t know how to play it. ‘Look, I know this…I mean…would it be possible to have a quick word with him?’

There was a tense silence.

‘Can he call you back?’ The voice was sharp, showing the irritation even while trying to hide it.

Susan White knew that this might mean in five minutes, two hours—or never. And she couldn’t take a chance on that.

‘It’s rather urgent.’

‘Just a minute,’ said Elizabeth Lloyd, even more stiffly.

In the silence that followed, the nurse strained to hear the voices in the background. But she didn’t need to strain for long. Through part of the brief exchange at least, the voices were somewhat raised. When silence returned, the nurse tensed up, anticipating a possible storm.

‘Yes, Nurse?’

It was her boss.

‘Stuart, listen, I’m sorry to bother you at home like this. But I’ve just seen a report on one of the American news channels. It was about a murder over there.’

‘What on earth has that got to do with us?’

‘The victim’s name was Dorothy Olsen.’

‘Good God!’ Lloyd muttered under his breath.

‘We have to do something. We can’t just ignore it.’