by Marcia Clark
I settled into my car and waited for Theresa to come back. The next step was going to be the fun part. Twenty minutes later, she emerged. I followed her all the way back to Sebastian’s house, to make sure her car would be there, then drove a few blocks away and called 9-1-1 with a burner phone. “I need to report a crime. I saw someone selling guns out of a Mercedes minivan. I took down the license plate, and I followed the car for a while. I think he lives in Bel Air.” I’d deliberately chosen that story because the cops had busted someone for selling a huge cache of firearms out of a house in Bel Air just two weeks earlier. They’d have to take my call seriously.
Then I drove back to Sebastian’s street to wait for the not-so-fun part. I had to hope for a lucky break. I knew Theresa would deny having sold any guns—because she hadn’t. But would she let the cops search the car to prove she was innocent? I was counting on it. If she didn’t, I’d have to hope the cops would try for a search warrant. Given the neighborhood and the person the car was registered to, I sincerely doubted they’d do it. Sebastian was too big a fish to mess with—especially when all they had was a 9-1-1 call from someone they’d never be able to contact. And that would be the end of my one and only plan.
I parked across the street in my favorite hiding place, under a large jacaranda tree, and tried to calm myself with deep, cleansing breaths. It didn’t work. All I managed to do was make myself hyperventilate. Dizzy and a little nauseous, I gave up on the deep breathing.
Finally, two cops in a patrol car arrived. I watched as they approached the gates, then drove in. A few seconds later, I saw Theresa come to the door. I couldn’t hear what the cops said, but I saw her shake her head vigorously. I held my breath. This was it. Now or never. If she didn’t let them search, my whole plan would go down the drain. And Niko would go to prison.
I dug my nails into my palm to keep from jumping out of my skin, but then a few seconds later, I saw her step out of the house. And she did it! She led the cops to the minivan. They pulled out their ginormous flashlights, and the taller of the two cops searched the passenger side, while the shorter one searched the driver’s side. I whispered, “Look in the back, damn it. Look in the back!” The taller one moved to the rear passenger seat, waved his flashlight from one side to the other, then shook his head. Shit! They were about to give up! He walked over to Theresa. Probably apologizing to her for the intrusion. I dropped my head on the steering wheel. It was over. But I couldn’t stay here. I sat up and reached for the start button on my car, then noticed that the shorter cop had moved to the back of the minivan. He was opening the hatchback! I stared at him. “Find it! Fucking find it!”
After thirty painful seconds, I saw him flip up the carpet and heard him shout something to his partner. He’d found it.
I let out my breath and sagged against the seat. Now they’d swab the guns, find Tanner’s DNA (because I’d made sure of it), and realize this car was involved in a lot more than just gun sales. And once they got a criminalist in there with his Q-tips and tweezers, he wouldn’t be able to miss the rest of the evidence I’d planted. Then Kingsford would start turning over all the stones. He’d figure out that Sebastian had lost a bundle to Gold Strike and that he had a house near a great dumping ground—Malibu Canyon. And he’d realize that Sebastian had no alibi for the time of Tanner’s disappearance. Something else I’d made sure of with a little help from Alex, who’d tracked Sebastian’s movements and found out that he’d been off the radar and alone. And if I really got lucky, when they searched Malibu Canyon—as I was sure they would—they’d find Tanner’s body.
The sound of sirens in the distance yanked me out of my reverie. The place was going to be swarming with cops in two minutes. I had to get out of there. I pulled away from the curb and forced myself to drive at a leisurely pace. It’d be a very bad time to attract attention. As I headed toward Sunset, I was cautiously optimistic that this would all play out the way I’d hoped.
But now came the part of the plan that I’d been dreading: telling Niko that I’d framed Sebastian—and why. That it was not just for his sake but for my own, as well. I hated having to tell him about the hell of my childhood—almost as much as I hated having to use it to manipulate him into going along with the setup. But I knew that was the only way to persuade him to let Sebastian take the fall for Tanner’s murder. And I had to do it fast. Niko had said he was going to turn himself in today. But he’d promised not to do it until I could go with him. I called him on his cell.
“Hello? Sam?” The sound of a local news program played on a television in the background.
The news. Another reason why I had to get to Niko right away. All that police activity in a place like Bel Air was going to get media attention in a heartbeat—even if they didn’t know exactly what was going on. “Hi. Are you at home?”
“Yeah. How come you’re not? I thought you said you didn’t have to go to court today. I was hoping we could spend a few hours together before I . . .” His voice trailed off.
Before he turned himself in. “Don’t move. I’m on my way over. I—There’s something I need to tell you.”
There was a long pause. He sighed. “Sam, I told you. I’ve made up my mind.”
“I understand. Just hear me out, okay? I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
He said he’d listen, but his tone of voice made it clear that he thought there was nothing I could say that would change his mind.
I hoped he’d be wrong. He had to be.
FIFTY-FIVE
When I walked in the door, Niko took me into his arms and hugged me for a long moment. Then he held me at arm’s length. “Sam, if you want to help me negotiate a plea, that’s fine. I appreciate the help. But you have to accept my decision.”
I saw the determination in his eyes. This was going to be even harder than I’d thought. But I was equally as determined to stop him. I nodded toward the couch. “Let’s sit down.”
As we settled in, I prepared myself for the most important closing argument of my life. I’d spent hours mapping out everything I wanted to say and gone over it a hundred times. But now, as I sat next to him, I found myself utterly tongue-tied. I cleared my throat and felt panic rise in my chest as I struggled to find the words. Niko watched me with a mixture of concern and curiosity. Finally, I forced myself to speak. “I’ve told you my childhood was a bit . . . chaotic.” Niko nodded slowly. “Well, it was actually more than just a bit chaotic. When I was twelve, Celeste—”
“Your mother, right?”
“Right.” He’d never met her, and I seldom spoke of her. And he couldn’t get used to the way I refused to call her “Mother.” My tongue felt like it was wrapped in cotton as I continued. “She married a billionaire real estate mogul, Sebastian Cromer. We moved in with him just one month after they’d met. But as it turned out, Celeste wasn’t the reason their relationship moved so fast.” I had to look away. “I was.”
Niko blanched. “You mean . . . ?”
I nodded. “Sebastian was a pedophile.” I told Niko all the gruesome details. How Sebastian had given me a beautiful bedroom at the back of the house—so no one would hear me scream. How he’d come to that bedroom every night for nearly a year. How he’d violently raped me at least once a night. And how I’d eventually managed to force Celeste to leave him. Then I told him about Eliza—an example of the countless other girls he’d likely raped and who’d probably been afraid to report someone as powerful and connected as Sebastian.
Niko’s expression had gone from sucker punched, to anguished, and then to furious. By the time I’d finished, his expression had turned downright thunderous. I worried that he might go hunt Sebastian down that very moment. When I finished, it took him a while to calm down enough to speak. “Is it too late for you to tell the police about him?”
I nodded. “The statute of limitations ran out long ago.” I paused. That wasn’t the whole truth. “But honestly, even if there were a way around it, I just . . . I couldn’t do it. I don’t want the who
le world to know.” I saw the pain and sadness in his eyes as he nodded his understanding. “Anyway, it’s not just about my own revenge. What about all the other girls? He’s never going to stop. That’s why I did . . . what I did.” I told him about how I’d framed Sebastian for Tanner’s murder. Afraid of his reaction, I talked at warp speed.
Niko stared at me in shock. His mouth moved, but no sound came out. Finally, he said, “Sam, you can’t . . . I mean, I get why you did it. But it’s not right.”
I took his hands. “It is right. Think of what he’s done—to me, to Eliza, and to so many other girls we’ll never know about.”
Niko frowned. “But he didn’t kill Tanner. Sebastian is a monster, but he needs to go down for what he did. Not for what I did.”
I exploded in utter frustration and anger. “But he won’t! Don’t you see? Guys like him never do! That’s the problem!”
His features twisted in confusion. “I do see. But . . . that’s not justice. Him taking the fall for something he didn’t do.”
“Is it justice that you go to prison for ridding the world of a narcissistic sociopath who trampled on and shredded other people’s lives—and basically killed your mother? Is it justice that a rich and powerful predator who’s ruined the lives of so many young girls and will certainly go on to ruin many more never pays the price? In fact, gets to enjoy a life of incredible luxury? Is that justice?”
Niko teared up. “I—I don’t know, Sam.”
I put a hand on his cheek. “If you can’t do it for yourself, then do it for me.” I felt like a shitheel for saying it. But I was desperate, and that was the only argument that seemed to have a chance of swaying him.
Niko looked away. After a long moment, he sighed. “I have no choice.”
I stared at him. Was he still going to turn himself in? “Wh-what do you mean?”
“I’m not going to the police. I can’t.”
He put an arm around me, and I leaned into his shoulder, relieved that now, we could be together without the fear that the police might come knocking again.
I just hoped he wouldn’t wind up resenting me. Because he was right. He really didn’t have a choice. I’d boxed him in but good. And it did ping my conscience. But not much. After all, I’d only forced him to do what was best—for everyone. Maybe he’d even thank me one day. Probably not. But only time would tell.
It wasn’t a magical evening. Niko was still suffering from Sophia’s death, and my revelation about Sebastian had rocked him. But we held each other through the night and talked about . . . everything.
The news of Sebastian’s arrest for the murder of Tanner Handel broke the next day. The police had moved faster than I’d expected. Though, given the amount of evidence I’d left for them, I shouldn’t have been surprised. I was at home, packing up for an extended stay at Niko’s when the local news came on. I’d been monitoring all the news programs since the moment the police found the guns in Sebastian’s minivan. So now, when I saw the BREAKING NEWS! banner, I grabbed the remote and turned up the volume. A young blonde anchor was saying, “The spokesperson for the LAPD has announced that Tanner Handel has been declared a murder victim and that the suspect has been taken into custody. Sebastian Cromer, a billionaire real estate mogul, was allowed to surrender at the Beverly Hills Police Station . . .”
I threw the remote in the air and yelled, “Yes! Motherfucking yes!” Justice. Finally. I walked out to the balcony and stared down at the city as I savored the victory. This might just be the best day of my life. I had to share the news. I texted Michy and Alex to tell them—and got a rousing reply: “We just saw! Are you going to the office?”
I texted them that I was, and they texted back saying they’d join me. Then I called Niko—both to let him know and to get a sense of how he was dealing with his decision. When he answered, I was suddenly nervous. “Have you seen the news?”
There was a beat of silence before he said, “I have. So it’s really happening.”
Was he having regrets? He couldn’t change his mind. Now, more anxious than ever, I said, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m all right.”
But his voice was a little shaky. “We’ll talk tonight?”
His tone seemed forced as he said, “Sure.”
I was worried about his state of mind. Was he going to back out? Go to the police after all? I didn’t think so. He wouldn’t blow everything up. But would the decision I’d basically forced him to make ultimately end us? Now, after speaking to him and hearing the way he’d sounded, I had to admit it might. But I couldn’t say I had any regrets. I’d had to do it. I’d had to seize the chance to put Sebastian away. I’d never get another one—of that I was certain.
If Niko and I broke up, I’d have to accept that was the price of justice—as painful, even agonizing as that would be. Right now, though, in this moment, I didn’t want to dwell on the impending doom of our relationship. I’d dreamed of getting my revenge since the first night Sebastian had come to my bedroom. If only for this one day, I wanted to revel in the satisfaction and joy of it all.
When I got into the office, I found Alex and Michy watching the news on my television. A bottle of Dom Pérignon was on the cabinet behind Michy’s desk. I laughed. “You guys sure work fast. I’d say it’s a little too early, but what the hell. Let’s pop that sucker open and get this party started.”
Alex did the honors, and we talked about the wild—and fabulous—turn this case had taken. I lifted my glass for the first toast. “To truth and justice!” As we all sipped, I thought, Maybe not truth. But justice for sure.
Michy and Alex had both remarked on the coincidence of Sebastian—the man who’d made my childhood hell and who’d raped Eliza and God knows how many others—being arrested for Tanner’s murder. And yet, it’d made sense. He’d been fleeced big-time, and Alex talked about how angry some of the other investors—who’d lost a lot less than Sebastian—had been. I saw a cloud of suspicion briefly cross Michy’s face, but neither she nor Alex had any idea how I—or anyone else—could’ve managed to set Sebastian up. Maybe more to the point, neither of them really wanted to question it. A horrifying creature had gotten what he deserved. As Michy put it, “Case closed, and good riddance.”
Dale would undoubtedly guess that I’d had something to do with Sebastian’s arrest. But there was one person who knew exactly how this beautiful coincidence had happened. Angelina. I wondered whether I’d be hearing from her.
Dale showed up at the office at noon. As I’d expected. I’d known he’d want to make contact. I heard Michy greet him as he entered the reception area. “Hey, Dale! You going to join us for lunch?”
Dale said, “No, wish I could. I just need a few minutes with Sam. Rain check?”
Michy said, “Anytime. She’s in her office.”
Dale walked in without knocking and closed the door. “Pretty amazing news about Sebastian.” He sat down in one of the chairs in front of my desk and spoke softly. “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.”
I met his gaze. “It is kind of perfect. What are you hearing from Kingsford?”
He had a satisfied expression on his face. “Just that the case looks good so far. And they’re going to try and get Sebastian to talk to them about Bryan Posner. He’s about the same size as the man in the surveillance footage.”
I doubted Sebastian would talk to the cops about anything. And I knew he had an alibi for the night of Bryan’s murder. But I didn’t mind keeping that tidbit to myself. If they could find a way to pin Bryan’s death on Sebastian, I was all for it. “Any progress in the search for Tanner’s body?”
“They’re using canines, but it’s a lot of ground to cover.” Dale gave me a pointed look. “Be nice if they knew what area to focus on.”
I knew he was hinting that I should get the information from Niko. Dale was well aware that this kind of perfect justice didn’t just happen on its own. And although he didn’t know how I’d done it—and probably didn’t want to kno
w—he knew I’d done something. And predictably, he was way okay with it.
I thought about whether I wanted to ask Niko where he’d dumped Tanner’s body. It might help get Sebastian convicted if they found it. “No body” homicides are notoriously hard to prove. But I wasn’t sure I wanted them to find it. Although it was unlikely any of Niko’s DNA would be detectable now that the body had been out in the elements all this time, I couldn’t be 100 percent certain the cops wouldn’t find something—no matter how small.
So I gave Dale a noncommittal answer. “Maybe you’ll get lucky with some hiker.” That was actually a real possibility. I can’t believe how many times I’ve heard about random hikers finding bodies.
Dale absorbed my underlying message—a maybe not—then asked, “How’s Niko doing?”
“It’s been a pretty rocky time. But I think he’ll be okay.” Maybe. I hoped.
“And how about you? How’re you doing? The world look a little different to you now?”
Sebastian was behind bars, where he’d belonged for decades. That felt good. No, correction. It felt great. But that wouldn’t erase the damage he’d done. I shrugged. “It does, and it doesn’t.”
Dale studied me for a long moment, then nodded. “I suppose so.” He stood up and moved toward the door. As he put a hand on the doorknob, he turned back. “You know, jail is a pretty dangerous place for someone like Sebastian.”
True that. All it’d take was a few well-chosen remarks to some of my former clients who were still in custody, and Sebastian’s days would be numbered—in single digits. That’s why child molesters are housed in maximum security, separate from the general population. The nice thing was, in this case, the folks who ran Twin Towers and the Men’s Central Jail on Bauchet Street didn’t know Sebastian was a pedophile. So he’d be in gen pop—which would make it a lot easier for someone to get to him.
