No Way Out

by David Kessler

  “Where is he now?”

  “I got rid of him.”

  “But you said...”

  “I said I couldn’t bring myself to have an abortion. And I tried to bring him up on my own. But it was hard. Everyone told me I should try and find a man. They said forget the looks. Just find yourself an ugly, lonely guy with a full wallet and a lonely heart. ‘At least he’ll provide for you both and he won’t leave you.’ That’s what my friends said. Maybe they were right. But I wasn’t ready to deliver myself into the hands of another man. I was looking for some one gentle to share my life with, even before that.”

  “You mean because of your sexual preference.”

  “If that’s what you care to call it.”

  “But what about… getting rid of him?”

  “I gave him up for adoption.”

  “But you said you wanted to keep him.”

  “Of course I wanted to keep him. I wanted to love him. He was my child. And when he was a baby, weak and helpless, I could do that. I didn’t think of him as part of you, I thought of him as part of me. But when he got towards two, things started to change. His facial features started to develop and he began reminding me of you. Also he was stubborn. He was developing a mind of his own. Instead of being the baby who responded with a smile when I scooped him up in my arms, he became this strong-willed brat who wanted his own way every time. And then it all started coming back: all the memories of another overgrown little boy who wanted things all his own way and didn’t care who he hurt to get it!”

  There were tears in the eyes of both of them. If Claymore’s pain failed to equal that of Gene, it was offset by the knife of guilt that twisted in his gut.

  “So you gave him up after you’d already bonded with him?” asked Claymore tensely.

  “Yes!” said Andi, choked up with tears.

  “But you still loved him?”

  “Of course I still loved him!” By now she was crying more hysterically than she had been in court. But she still held on to the gun aimed squarely at Claymore.

  “And that’s what you’ve had to live with all these years?”

  “Yes!”

  He leaned forward.

  “I can help you... if you’ll let me.”

  He started to get up, but stopped in his tracks when she raised the gun and aimed it at his face.

  “I don’t need your help! I can handle my own pain.”

  “Look... I know it’s an impertinence for me to offer my help. But like you said you’ve been bottling it up all these years. You’re entitled to some relief... some rest.. some inner peace.”

  “I wasn’t talking about me!” she screamed. “When I said how hard it was to keep it all bottled up, I didn’t mean me!”

  “Then who?” he stuttered, helplessly

  “I was talking about your other victim – the fourteen-year-old girl who didn’t come forward at the time you raped her!”

  Claymore could barely find the breath to speak. But he forced himself to say the name: “Andi.”

  Wednesday, 2 September 2009 – 17:45 PDT (20:45 EDT)

  Bethel Newton was going home.

  She had boarded the flight at noon and touched down at Miami International Airport five hours and twenty five minutes later. She had taken only hand luggage – having ditched practically everything that reminded her of her all too brief stay in California.

  Her folks were expecting her. But she remained uncertain of what to expect. She had told them of her plans by text message while the taxi snaked its way to the airport in Los Angeles, where she had stayed when Gene went up to Oakland to answer the subpoena. She had used up practically the last of her precious cash to make the journey. But she didn’t have the courage to speak to them by voice and they hadn’t replied to her message.

  She wondered how they would take it. She had rejected their overtures of support during her ordeal in California. Would they want to have anything to do with her now?

  These thoughts were playing on her mind as she raced from the arrivals lounge past baggage collection and into the arrivals hall.

  “Bethel Honey?” a woman’s voice shouted. “Over here!”

  She looked round to see a somewhat plump thirty-nine year old woman waving to her. It was her mother. And she wasn’t alone. Her step-father Jack, twelve-year-old sister Judy and two-year-old half-brother Benny were also there.

  Bethel Newton’s eyes flooded with tears as she raced towards her waiting family.

  Wednesday, 2 September 2009 – 18:00

  Claymore had been silenced by Gene’s words and was still struggling to take it all in. He had long suspected it – since the day he had first walked into the meeting room with her and Alex. But he hadn’t been sure. And she had said nothing.

  After a long silence, Claymore finally spoke.

  “I thought it was her.”

  “What do you mean, you thought?”

  “It was so long ago. She was… I don’t know how old.”

  “Fourteen.”

  “Fourteen,” he repeated quietly, as if the magnitude of his crime from twenty five years ago were only now sinking in. “I still remember her face. It’s haunted me ever since. That was why I stopped you know. It wasn’t getting caught. It was her eyes… those wounded eyes.”

  “Shut up!” Gene yelled.

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to torment you. And I wasn’t making a play for sympathy. I just want you to know the truth. When she first came into that room and Alex introduced her… The face had changed of course. But I still remembered. When he said the name, it didn’t confirm it because I never knew the names.”

  “Of course you didn’t! What did the names matter? We weren’t people to you.”

  “That’s what I was like then! It’s not the man I am now! The men you should really hate are the men who are still like that – like that scum-bag Louis Manning.”

  “Who?” She seemed stunned by this.

  “Louis Manning. He’s the guy who really raped Bethel Newton.”

  “How do you know?” asked Gene, confused.

  “They were talking about it after Andi finished questioning you. That police woman, Detective Riley, came up and told them about the new DNA tests. The DNA came from some guy called Louis Manning. We both matched the DNA in the first tests – but that didn’t mean anything because they said that something like one black man in five hundred has that same DNA. It was from the Y chromosome or something like that. So then they did another test and that cleared me and implicated him.”

  “What sort of a test?” asked Gene.

  “It’s kind of like the opposite of the test. They had another DNA sample from her left hand and they did a different kind of DNA test. It looks at DNA that comes from the mother.”

  “Mitochondrial DNA?”

  “Yes that’s it.”

  “And they got this from another sample? From her left hand?”

  “Yes. The thumbnail I think.”

  “And you say this test cleared you?”

  “Yes – and it implicated the other guy.”

  “But how did they get him in the first place… this Louis…”

  “Manning. Well what happened was he tried to rape one of the reporters covering the case… Martine Yin.”

  “Holy shit!”

  “Holy shit’s the word. And then they checked out the car he was driving. You see it was a Merc and he crashed it into a police car – or rather the cops crashed into him. And it was my car.”

  “Your car.”

  “Yes, my car. The one that was stolen two days before Bethel Newton was raped. And that’s when they started figuring things out. One of the cops noticed that he looked a bit like the suspect description in the Bethel Newton case. So they decided to test his DNA too. And at first there were some shenanigans at the DNA lab – and with the computer too. But then they did those new tests and they got him.”

  “So is he in custody now?”

  “As far as I know. I think he’s
in the hospital or something, ‘cause he broke his leg when then the cops side-swiped his auto. But I think they’ve got him under arrest.”

  Gene took a deep breath.

  “And you think that because this Louis Manning is the man who raped Bethel I should just blame him and forget about what you put Andi through in that courtroom – forcing her to relive the experience.”

  “Like I said, I wasn’t sure it was her. And what was I to do? I didn’t want her defending me. I even tried to say so. But I couldn’t say why without making it worse – for both of us. But how come she never said anything? I mean she must have known it was me?”

  “Because she bottled it all up inside her. That’s what I meant about keeping it all locked up. It wasn’t me I was talking about. It was her. She sat next to you the whole trial and she didn’t even remember that twenty five years ago you were the one who raped her!”

  Claymore’s head dropped. Only now the full measure of his shame and guilt weighed down upon him.

  “Turn that up!” snapped Gene.

  He looked up to see a mug shot of Louis Manning on the TV. Picking up the remote hesitantly, he complied with Gene’s command.

  “Manning was only be guarded by a single police officer at the time and it appears that he took advantage of a moment of distraction to drug the officer’s coffee with sleeping pills that he had been stockpiling while at the hospital. Police are refusing to say anything about the state of the injured nurse, but according to unofficial sources he said something to her just before he left, about having an old score to settle. Neither the police, nor the hospital, will confirm or deny these reports.”

  “Oh my God!” said Gene as the report continued.

  She turned sharply on her heel and raced out.

  Claymore could breathe again. But not breathe easily. That maniac Louis Manning was on the loose with a grudge. Who would he go after? Sarah Jensen? Bridget Riley? Bethel Newton?

  As if reading his mind, his cell phone beeped and flashed, alerting him to the fact that he had a message. He picked up the phone and pressed the button to retrieve the text.

  You may have thwarted my plan, but there is a price to be paid for doing so. I am now going to kill Andi. Her blood is on your hands.

  Lannosea.

  Wednesday, 2 September 2009 – 18:20

  “Hallo can I speak to Martine Yin please… I’m not sure what room she’s in.”

  Again the receptionist checked the name via the computer in the most perfunctory fashion.

  Louis Manning was still checking hotels in Oakland. He was getting to the bottom of his list and wondering if perhaps she was staying in San Francisco. Certainly they had better hotels on the other side of the Bay Bridge. But she had been sent here to cover a trial in Oakland and it was unlikely that she’d want to face that commuter time crush on the bridge.

  Then again, she had come off the case – probably because of her relationship with the lawyer. So maybe she was staying with him. Or maybe at a hotel nearer to where he lived or worked.

  He realized that he’s probably have to check out the hotels in San Francisco too.

  “Putting you through now sir.”

  His heart leapt! He had found her!

  A few seconds later, he heard the ringing tone. He should ring off now, so as not to alert her. But he had to make sure. Maybe they had misheard the name.

  “Hallo.”

  He recognized the voice – the voice that he had heard on the TV. The voice of the woman whom he had tried to rape. The woman who had sprayed pepper spray in his face and escaped his clutches. The woman who was responsible for the fact that he had broken his leg and his collar bone and been arrested… and now been ID’d as the man who had raped Bethel Newton.

  He put the phone down, slamming it harder than he intended.

  That bitch is going to pay.

  Wednesday, 2 September 2009 – 18:30

  Martine Yin was undressing in her room at the Waterfront hotel on the East Bay, curious about the phone call that hadn’t got through. It was probably from Alex, she thought. But then he’d have tried her cell phone.

  Whatever, she told herself. If it was important, they’d call back.

  She had used the excuse of the trauma of the attempted rape to get herself relieved of reporting on the Claymore case. This avoided having to the station anything about her relationship with Alex. But she had also used the trauma as a pretext to ask for a leave of absence until Monday the seventh. That left her free to spend more time with Alex, including – she hoped – another weekend.

  It was a little to early to think about moving in together. For a start, it wouldn’t be easy to co-ordinate work-wise. She was based in Southern California and he was firmly rooted in San Francisco. Secondly, he wasn’t yet ready to tell David and Debbie. And it wasn’t yet clear whether or not they approved of her. She didn’t want this to turn out into one of those ongoing feuds between the daughter and the “step-mother” who is only a few years her senior.

  Still, Martine was already hoping… and planning.

  Alex had invited her out for dinner tonight at Sens, an Exotic Southern Mediterranean restaurant in the Embarcadero Center. She had spent the morning on retail therapy, but still hadn’t decided what to wear. It would definitely have to be white. The question was, should it be the one with the single shoulder strap and long slit up the leg or the medium length little number with the tantalizing keyhole? She had laid them both out on the bed, but couldn’t make up her mind.

  But there was still time. Meanwhile, she headed for the shower.

  Wednesday, 2 September 2009 – 18:35

  Alex was in his office cleaning up the paperwork from the Claymore case, when another call came. Juanita had gone home, so Alex took it himself.

  “Alex Sedaka.”

  “Hallo Mr. Sedaka.”

  It was a woman’s voice. He hadn’t expected that. He thought it would be Claymore calling about Andi. He was all set to tell him that he had no news and that he should stop worrying. Women weren’t as emotionally fragile as men seemed to believe. Martine had proved that when she had brushed off his excess of sympathy and concern after the rape attempt. But this woman did sound emotionally fragile, even from the few words she had uttered.

  “Yes. Who is this?”

  “It’s Gene – Gene Vance.”

  “Oh hi Gene. What can I do for you?”

  “I’m worried about Martine.”

  “Martine?” He had thought she was going to say Andi. Alex hadn’t seen her since he went off to make a statement to the press about how his client was relieved that it was all over. But Claymore had told him that Andi was in a state of distress when they parted. And when Gene came on the line, he thought it was going to be more of the same. But Gene had said Martine.”

  “Why? What’s the problem?”

  “I think she may be in danger.”

  “Danger? What sort of danger?”

  “Didn’t you hear?”

  “Hear what?”

  “Louis Manning escaped from the hospital–”

  “How–”

  “He drugged the cop who was keeping an eye on him and got the key to the handcuffs. Then he stole the cop’s uniform and escaped.”

  Alex was in shock at this revelation. But he stayed calm until his sense of logic kicked in.

  “But I don’t see that he’d be stupid enough to stick around. I mean he must know the cops’ll be looking for him. And if they know he’s wearing a cop’s uniform then they’ll be looking for that too. And that means he’ll be looking for a change of clothes. He’s more likely to attack a man to get some new threads then go after Martine.”

  “No you don’t understand. It was on the news.”

  “What was on the news.”

  “He tasered a nurse, who saw him making his getaway. And it was reported that he said something to her before he hightailed it.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said something about havin
g an old score to settle.”

  Alex thought about this for a moment.

  “That could mean anything.”

  But he was rationalizing now.

  “No think about it a minute. Who else would he go after? He could hardly go after the cops who busted him: he wouldn’t dare. He has no reason to go after Bethel Newton, ‘cause she never accused him. It was others who ID’d him. He wouldn’t go after Detective Reilly or Sarah Jensen ‘cause they’re probably too well protected. So who else does that leave?”

  Alex could think of several answers. There was Andi, who had discovered the tampering at the DNA lab that had got the police and DA to look again at the DNA evidence. And of course Alex was going out with Martine, so getting at Alex would be a way of getting at Martine… and vice versa.

  No, he told himself. That doesn’t make sense! He doesn’t know anything about me and Martine!

  But then another thought occurred to Alex: what if he was wrong? After all, that – as much as her coverage of the Bethel Newton rape case – might explain why he had tried to rape Martine in the first place!

  No! That’s impossible! How could he know?

  But then again, even if he didn’t know – even if he had picked Martine as his victim purely because of her coverage of the Claymore trial – everything that Gene had said made sense. If he was stupid enough to stick around in an attempt to exact revenge, then Martine was the logical target. Who successfully fought him off when he tried to rape her? Who maced him in the face and left him defeated and humiliated? Who sounded the alarm that got the cops racing to the scene, so that when he tried to hotfoot it out of there he got side-swiped by a squad car and ended up with a broken leg?

  “Look I’m supposed to be meeting her tonight. I know where she’s staying so I’ll call her right away and warn her to be careful.”

  “Okay, but keep me posted. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt because of…”

  He understood why she had trailed off. She felt guilty, as if she had caused all this – which in a way she had.