This strengthened, all the more, Nat’s conviction that it was Sally Burrow’s hands-off approach to both love and discipline that had led Burrow down that slippery road to become the bully that he was.
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 entering the building—and he recognized the face.
He decided not to go in just yet.
‘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 didn’t seem too anxious 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 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.
‘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?’