You Think You Know Me Pretty Well

by David Kessler

  “What sound?”

  “Like the vocal equivalent of a gleam in your eye?”

  “Well … let’s just say that I have an idea of one way I might be able to get it.”

  “How ‘might’ is ‘might’?”

  In the time it took him to take a breath, her heart skipped a beat.

  “I won’t bullshit you. It’s a long shot.”

  12:53 PDT

  “How long are we going to hang round here?” asked the driver.

  Martine looked at her watch. He was right: they’d been here a long time and nothing was happening. It wasn’t just that nothing was happening, it was also that there was no sign that anything was going to happen. Worse still, some of the other news crews were starting to appear. They were parked further up the street and trying to make it look like they weren’t interested. But it was obvious that they were.

  They were actually parked more strategically than Martine’s crew. If anyone left the governor’s office building, they’d have to follow the one-way system toward Larkin Street. That meant that CNN just up the road had a better chance of staying on their tail.

  “So what do you think we should do?” asked Martine. “Go back to San Quentin?”

  They’d have a full crew there later on in the day as the execution time loomed nearer. But the question was, should they sit it out there now or stay here in the hope that something broke from the governor’s office?

  Martine knew that she could call in another team to cover the governor’s office and get back to the penitentiary. But this was her story and she wanted to be in the right place and the right time when the story broke. Her gut told her that she was closer to the story here outside the governor’s office than treading water back in Marin County.

  But nagging away at Martine was the thought that the real story was with Burrow’s lawyer Alex Sedaka.

  He was the one who had to carry the message of the governor’s conditional offer of clemency to Burrow. If Burrow was reluctant, he was the one who would have to persuade him. If Burrow accepted the offer then he would be the one who had to convey that acceptance to the governor, along with any details of where the body was buried. Before the day was done, many people would know one way or the other. But Alex Sedaka would be the first to know.

  And Martine intended to be the second.

  “Change of plan. We’re going to pay Alex Sedaka a little visit.”

  13:11 PDT

  Nat was driving back to the office from the mobile home park in San Pablo, wondering how he was going to summarize his meeting with Sally Burrow. He decided not to tell Alex about the leading question that had led to the premature termination of the interview. But the question was, what would he tell him?

  Sally Burrow’s attitude – if it was sincere – suggested that she would not have done anything to help her son, least of all kill for him. She sounded convincing when she said that they had led separate lives and she hadn’t noticed what her son was turning into.

  This strengthened, all the more, Nat’s conviction that it was Sally Burrow’s hands-off approach to both that had led Burrow down that slippery road to become the bully that he became

  But a bully was one thing – a murderer was another thing entirely.

  Nat knew that he had to concentrate on how he summed this up for Alex. The boss was in a very tense mood at the moment, and Nat felt that he was likely to snap at any moment. He had shouted at Juanita over something that wasn’t her fault. How would he react to Nat coming home empty handed from his visit to Clayton’s mother at the trailer park?

  But then again, it had always been a long shot. Alex knew that. All Nat could do was report back on what Sally Burrow had said.

  He was getting near the building when he noticed activity. It looked like some news people staked out by the building, one with a shoulder-mounted camera. The annoying thing was their van was parked in his reserved parking space! He drove past, glaring at them angrily. Then he noticed someone with a familiar face entering the building and he decided not to go in just yet.

  13:19 PDT

  “So why exactly did you want to see me?” asked Alex.

  He had led Jonathan into the meeting room and got Juanita to make coffee for both of them. But Jonathan Olsen wasn’t in any hurry to talk. He seemed more concerned with looking round, almost as if he was admiring the décor.

  “I saw on the TV about the governor’s offer to Clayton Burrow.”

  “Yes,” said Alex matter-of-factly, “I think everyone in the state has heard about that alleged offer by now.”

  “The thing that surprised me is that it was my mother who persuaded him.”

  “She didn’t tell you beforehand?”

  “I’m not in contact with my mother.”

  Alex remembered that Esther Olsen had told him that she was estranged from her daughter. He didn’t know that this estrangement extended to her son.

  “Is that by…?”

  “By my choice, yes. We kind of fell out with Mom – both Dorothy and myself.”

  Alex felt a pang of sympathy for Esther Olsen. It seemed as if the world was collapsing on top of her head.

  “For the same reason?”

  “More or less.”

  Alex knew he had to tread delicately here. But then again, Jonathan had come to him, not the other way round.

  “Is it something you’d like to share?”

  “Let’s just say that Dorothy got a raw deal.”

  The words “raw deal” suggested something financial. But this was unlikely – if it was purely financial it could have been easily remedied.

  “From your mother?”

  Jonathan shrugged.

  “Let’s just say that there are sins of commission and sins of omission.”

  Alex nodded. He knew that he wasn’t going to make any more headway if he cross-examined. But he sensed that Jonathan wanted to talk.

  “Why did you want to see me, Jonathan?”

  “I was wondering if Burrow has accepted Dusenbury’s offer.”

  “You know that anything a client says to his lawyer is privileged.”

  Jonathan squirmed uncomfortably.

  “But I’d’ve thought that they’d have to make it public at some point. I mean, at least if he accepted the offer.”

  “At some point maybe. But at this stage I can’t even confirm or deny that there was an offer.”

  Jonathan seemed uncomfortable, as if he wasn’t sure himself why he was even there. He appeared to be looking round nervously, almost as if he was expecting something to happen.

  “Can I ask you a question, Mr. Sedaka?”

  “Of course.”

  “Why did you take this case?”

  “Well that’s kind of an open-ended question, isn’t it? Why did I take on this case?” Alex was buying time as he thought about it. “I guess, because I’m a lawyer. Because Burrow asked me to. Because one of my staff persuaded me that it was a noble cause.”

  Jonathan looked like he was trying to hide the fact that he was smiling when he heard these words. But he said nothing.

  “You think I’m a total cynic, don’t you?” Alex continued, trying to break the ice with a confessional tone and an amicable smile on his face.

  “You said it yourself: you’re a lawyer.”

  “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, Jonathan, especially in light of what you’ve been through. But is that the only thing you came here to ask?”

  He wasn’t trying to hasten Jonathan on his way; he was trying to break down the barrier of reticence that was holding him back.

  “When I asked why you took on this case, what I meant was: do you think he’s innocent?”

  “I can’t say what I know or what he told me because that’s privileged communication. But I guess I can tell you, in a general sort of way, that a lawyer doesn’t have to believe in his client’s innocence to take on a case.”

  “No, but I also know that lawyers are human – some lawyers.”

 
He smiled when he added the last bit. Alex returned the smile.

  “And you want to know if I was motivated by idealism or if I’m just another slave to the almighty dollar.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Well, you know, when it comes to representing a penniless defendant, there are no almighty dollars on the table. We call it pro bono work.”

  “I know all about pro bono work, Mr. Sedaka. But there’s more than one road to Rome, isn’t there?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Really?” asked Jonathan, with raised eyebrows. “There’s professional kudos and prestige. There’s book deals and Hollywood, there’s—”

  “Now hold on a minute! I’m not planning on turning your sister’s death into a book deal or a Hollywood movie if that’s what you’re thinking … Or should I say, your half sister?”

  He was monitoring Jonathan for a reaction. There was no sign of panic or anger or any other emotion on Jonathan’s face. He held his head back, but it was more like he was trying to remember something or just to concentrate.

  “You know about that?”

  “We have the DNA report. I was wondering if it affected your relationship with her … one way or the other.”

  “I don’t think it really did. I mean, we were loyal to each other. We couldn’t have been any more loyal if we were full siblings. So I guess you could say it didn’t affect us.”

  “But you did know about it?”

  “It came out in the heat of a domestic argument. But after that it was never talked about – at least not by me or Dorothy.”

  “You didn’t want to know more?”

  “We knew all we needed to know.”

  “So which of you … was…?”

  Jonathan was shaking his head.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  A tense silence settled between them for a few seconds. Alex knew that he would make no more progress on this point. Not with Jonathan at any rate.

  “Can I ask you something Jonathan?”

  “What?”

  “He used to bully her in high school.”

  “That’s not a question” said Jonathan.

  Alex surveyed Jonathan’s face for signs of emotion. There was none.

  “I know. But what I wanted to ask was… was it physical bullying or verbal?”

  “Verbal mostly. Like, he used to make fun of her name.”

  “Dorothy?”

  “Our name. He used to call her Al Jolsen – like that was funny.”

  “Are you sure there wasn’t more to it?”

  “Like what?”

  “Well sometimes, when kids make fun of each other its because they… like each other, but don’t want to admit it.”

  Jonathan scowled and his tone was a sneer. “You think he had the hots for my sis?”

  “Did he?”

  “Fuck off man!”

  “You’re sure.”

  “I…”

  He trailed off, as if the first trace of doubt had set in.

  “So it’s… possible.”

  “No it’s not possible.”

  “Look Jonathan… I’ve seen her picture. Your sister was not unattractive.”

  “Clayton Burrow could have had any girl in the school – so why did he…”

  Again he trailed off as if he had said too much.

  Alex decided to press home his advantage.

  “How did she feel about him?”

  “How do turkey’s feel about Thanksgiving?”

  “So is it possible that he killed her because she rejected him?”

  “I think you’re talking a load of bullshit!”

  Alex took a deep breath and tried again.

  “What about the other way round?”

  “What do you mean?”

  This time Jonathan’s tone was defensive.

  “Well if he bullied her that might have given her a motive to want to see him suffer.”

  Jonathan scowled again.

  “What are you saying? That she faked her own death and framed him?”

  Alex hesitated. He chose his next words carefully.

  “You’re the second person who’s raised that possibility today.”

  Jonathan got up and reached for his jacket.

  “Well before you get carried away with the idea, let me tell you that he did have a motive for killing her.”

  “And what’s that?”

  Jonathan was putting on his jacket as he replied.

  “She got him canned over the bullying.”

  And with these words, Jonathan angrily left Sedaka’s office.

  Alex wasn’t surprised by what Jonathan had told him just now. But the hesitancy over the question of whether it was a “love turned to hate” opened up some interesting possibilities.

  “I have to go back to San Quentin,” he told Juanita through the open doors of the office as he grabbed his own jacket.

  “Why? Something’s come up?”

  “Could be. I need to get some straight answers from my client.”

  “Good luck.”

  She sounded mocking. But he was too busy to think about it. As he was walking toward the entrance, she remembered something.

  “Oh, boss, there something I forgot to tell you. We had a call from David.”

  “I haven’t got time right now. Call me on my cell phone.”

  He slipped out and closed the door behind him.

  13:33 PDT

  Nat had gone once round the block and parked down the road, waiting in his car and watching the entrance to the office building. He was about to get out and walk into the building, when he noticed a flurry of activity. A camera was suddenly hoisted onto the shoulder of the cameraman and Martine patted down her hair quickly and sprang into action.

  A second later, Alex came into view. He had just emerged from the building and they were poised to ambush him. Martine walked up smartly with a microphone and appeared to ask him a question. She thrust the microphone toward his mouth and tried to intercept him when he moved to the side, but he kept walking as if she wasn’t there. When the inevitable collision occurred, she moved aside. He offered no apology as he walked over to his car, got in and drove off.

  Martine was about to speak into the microphone – presumably to comment on Alex’s rudeness – when she appeared to change her mind and instead barked an instruction at her crew. Within seconds they were back in the van driving off in pursuit of Alex, or at least in the same direction.

  Nat got back into his car and drove it to the parking space vacated by the van. Then he got out and entered the building. As he did so, he had that prickly feeling on the back of his neck.

  13:42 PDT

  Juanita had gone back to her internet search. It was a frustrating process, as she didn’t really know what she was looking for. At the back of her mind she wondered about the relationship between Dorothy and Jonathan, the fact that they were only half siblings.

  Did Jonathan know? Had Alex asked him?

  Alex! She had forgotten that she had still hadn’t told him what David had told her. Alex had told her to phone him. She put the call through now.

  “Hi, Juanita.”

  She quickly filled him in on what David had explained about the EasySabre booking and his fear that he wouldn’t be able to find any more details, at least not within the tight timeframe they had available.

  “But did he say he’d try?” asked Alex.

  “Oh yes, he’ll give it his best shot. But I was just wondering, boss, maybe we should ask Mrs. Olsen.”

  “I’m sure if she’d known anything about Dorothy booking a trip at that time she’d’ve told us already.”

  “We may as well ask her. We’ve got nothing to lose.”

  “Okay, go ahead.”

  “By the way, I was just wondering, why this sudden rush to see Burrow? Did Jonathan say anything important?”

  He told her what Jonathan had said about Dorothy getting Jonathan canned.

  “It
doesn’t really change anything, does it?”

  “It strengthens his motive,” said Alex acknowledged bitterly, almost like it was a personal betrayal.

  “Wait a minute, boss. That reminds me of something you said.”

  “About what?”

  “About his mom having a motive.”

  “If I remember rightly, Juanita, you rained on my parade when I came up with that one.”

  “Yes, but if Dorothy actually got Burrow canned, it’s a whole different ball game. Now it’s no longer a case of Ma Grissom pimping for her retarded son. This time it’s revenge for sabotaging her son’s education.”

  Alex seemed to be thinking about this.

  “What did Nat say about Burrow’s ma?”

  “He hasn’t got back yet.”

  “Still?”

  “Oh, wait a minute. I think that’s him.”

  “Okay, ask him what he got and we’ll talk later. I need to step on it and I want to make sure I get to San Q in one piece.”

  “Okay. Talk to you later.”

  Nat came through the door just as Juanita hung up.

  “Is Alex in?”

  “No, I was just talking to him. He’s on his way back to San Quentin.”

  “Anything new?”

  “Not really. Jonathan Olsen was here and the boss decided to go and see Burrow right after that.”

  Nat was taking off his jacket.

  “Any particular reason?”

  “I think maybe he wanted to check out some of the things Jonathan told him.”

  “Like what?”

  “Apparently, Dorothy got Clayton Burrow kicked out of high school.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me.”

  Nat went into the kitchen and re-filled the coffee maker.

  “Why’s Alex off on a wild goose chase to San Quentin now?” he called out

  “He didn’t have time for details.”

  “Coffee?”

  “Yes, please,” Juanita replied. The sound of the grinder and the smell of coffee beans filled the air. Juanita raised her voice above the background noise. “So what’s your take on Mrs. Burrow?”

  “She gives body and soul to the words ‘trailer trash.’”