You Think You Know Me Pretty Well aka Mercy Read Online Free PDF Page B

come here.
    “What are you talking about?” Alex had responded. “It’s just like the rest of the prison.”
    “No, it isn’t. Not to me. It has … I can’t explain it. It’s like the place has the smell of death about it.”
    Alex had found this attitude incomprehensible.
    “How do you expect to work as a lawyer on cases of your own if you can’t compartmentalize your emotions?”
    Nat had just shaken his head and turned away, as if struggling to contain those emotions. Alex remained mystified but realized that he had to accept it. So on this case at least, Nat was functioning as little more than a driver. It was hardly a way to get ahead in his chosen profession. But in fairness to Nat, he had done a lot of background research. You couldn’t fault him for effort or enthusiasm.
     It took a few minutes to process Alex through security. But it seemed to be getting quicker, relative to his previous visits. They knew Alex now and he knew the drill, so less had to be explained to him about what he could and couldn’t bring in. Also, as the execution date drew near, they realized the urgency of these meetings and there was an element of sympathy for even the basest and most evil of murderers. Years on death row humbled and mellowed a man and even those prison guards who believed most strongly in capital punishment were ready to admit that by the time the condemned man is about to meet his maker, he is a very different man to the one who was sentenced to that fate.
    Whatever they said about capital punishment being the ultimate individual deterrent, it was a punishment that did it’s work before the final stage was complete. It was living in the shadow of death that reformed a man’s character, not death itself. But for collective deterrence, the death penalty served no purpose, in Alex’s opinion. There were others however who were all too ready and eager to argue the point.
    When Alex was finally in the cell with Clayton Burrow, the condemned man appeared to be struggling to read the lawyer’s face.
    “What did he say?” asked Burrow, a tremor of fear creeping into his voice.
    “It’s kind of complicated,” Alex replied hesitantly.
    “What do you mean?”
    Burrow’s breathing was heavy, as if not daring to hope.
    “He’s offering you clemency – but it’s conditional.”
    “What does that mean?”
    “It means he’s ready to commute your sentence to life if you ‘fess up.”
    “That’s it?” said Burrow, letting the air out of his lungs.
    “No, there’s one more thing. You’ve got to reveal where you buried the body.”
    The smile vanished from the condemned man’s face.
    “Fuck it!” yelled Burrow, pounding his left palm with his right fist. “Goddamn fuck it!”
    Alex looked at his client, puzzled.
    “Why, what’s the matter?”
    “I can’t do it! I can’t fuckin’ do it!”
     
     
     

10:39 PDT
     
    It had been most kind of Chuck to lay on a limo , Esther Olsen thought.
    The overpass drifted away behind them. But Esther was past the stage of admiring the view. On the way there it had been a distraction from her worries. She didn’t drive and illness had left her pretty nearly housebound. So any journey like this was an escape, both mental and physical. But the novelty soon wore off.
    The same was true of the limousine. The luxury of its leather upholstery and lacquered wooden paneling raised her pleasure level, but only by a microscopic degree. And such petty pleasures were short-lived when ranged against the quantum of suffering that had borne down upon her in recent years. First a murderer’s unbridled malice had claimed her daughter. Then the ravages of disease had selected her at random and struck her down with a death sentence of her own.
    She had had her fair share of life and although it hadn’t always been a smooth ride, it was at least a fair crack of the whip. She could accept being singled out by the Grim Reaper. But it was the loss of her daughter that had been