Mercy

EPILOGUE

A group of them were waiting outside MCI Cedar Junction for Brandon Stahl to emerge from prison. Julie was there, of course, along with Paul and Trevor; Lucy; Becca Stinson; Jordan; his sisters, Teagen and Nina; as well as Jordan’s mother. Brandon’s family was small, but a scattering of his friends had come.

Not present, or at least not in any great numbers, were people who supported death with dignity and branded Brandon their ambassador. He had not done what many had believed; he’d played no part in Donald Colchester’s death.

The most surprising of all the attendees on that March afternoon, gathered under gunmetal skies, was Pamela Renee Colchester, mother of Donald Colchester, wife of disgraced politician William Colchester.

Pamela, a slight woman with graying hair, dressed in a navy pantsuit, stood quietly, composed. Julie had not spoken with Pamela since her husband’s indictment on bribery charges. The disgraced judge caught up in the scandal had resigned, but William Colchester remained in office. Defiant as he was, an announcement of his resignation was expected any day. A fickle public could overlook many things, but what William had done was not one of them. Pamela had not issued any official statements, but word was that she would stand by her man, and not move out of the Hyde Park home they had shared for thirty years.

Julie stiffened as Pamela approached. She did not know what to expect. Rage? Sadness? A mixture of both, perhaps? Pamela’s expression revealed nothing.

“You’re Dr. Julie Devereux, am I right?”

A breeze came and tussled Julie’s hair. “Yes. That’s right. How are you, Mrs. Colchester?”

“Pamela, please,” she said. Her manner of speech was a bit clipped, her voice a little plummy. “Is this your son?”

“Yes, this is Trevor,” Julie said.

Pamela’s eyes welled up a little. “Nice to meet you,” she said, shaking Trevor’s hand. “May we speak in private?” she asked.

“Yes, of course.”

Trevor went with Paul.

Pamela and Julie stepped away from the crowd.

“My husband is not a horrible man,” Pamela said. “But what he did was wrong. In his defense, Roman Janowski misled him into believing our son’s killer would go free if they exhumed Donald’s body. He never thought Brandon was innocent, but obviously the money Roman offered clouded his better judgment.”

Julie gave her a nod. “I’m sorry for what you’ve gone through,” was all she could think to say.

“I’ve done my research. I believe you and your friend, Jordan Cobb, saved many lives, not to mention what you’ve done for Brandon.”

“We just wanted the truth.”

“Well, there’s something I would like to share with Jordan. I was hoping you could introduce me.”

Julie called Jordan over and made the introductions. Jordan wore a shirt and tie and looked handsome, though his expression was uneasy.

“Jordan, what you have done, the risks you took, the commitment you showed to serving truth and justice, deserve merit and reward.”

Jordan gave a shrug. “Thank you, but I was just trying to help.”

“You did more than that. What happens to my husband from here is not your concern. His motives were good, but his methods deserve reprobation. You, on the other hand, deserve our admiration-both you and Dr. Devereux.”

“Thank you,” Jordan said. “Kind of you to say.”

“It’s more than kindness. I have a letter from the mayor of Boston indicating in strong language that you should file for an official pardon request for your past crimes. I believe you’ll be granted one without delay. In addition, I have commitments from several medical schools that would welcome you into their programs and provide substantial financial aid.”

“You mean I could become a pathologist?”

“If it’s your wish.”

Jordan beamed. Lucy came over and heard the news and soon others had gathered around Jordan to share congratulations. His sisters-each wearing a dress, the older girl in blue, and the younger one in white-clung to him with proud looks on their faces.

All the adulation gave Pamela a moment to continue her conversation with Julie.

“I want you to know how sorry William is for what he’s done. Donald’s death was a relief to him. In some ways his death was a relief to me, if I’m being honest. To see my son suffer was-well, it was hard on us all. I’ll just leave it at that. But I do believe William was sincerely concerned for my health. He knew it would be a devastating blow to me if I thought Donald’s killer went free. I’m sticking by my husband’s side. I’m not proud of what he did, but ultimately I believe he did it out of love.”

“Michelle was driven by compassion, too,” Julie said. “But that doesn’t make it right.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Pamela said. “I’m sure if he knew what Roman Janowski was really up to, he would never have bribed the judge.”

“If he did it only for justice, he would have done so without requiring a cash payment first,” Julie said.

“I suppose that’s true,” Pamela said. She removed an envelope from her purse. “William wrote you a letter and I promised him I would deliver it to you personally. Julie, I’m truly sorry for everything.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Julie said. “You’ve done nothing wrong. You’re a mother who suffered a terrible loss.”

“That’s true, I am. But I don’t need to be culpable to care. Compassion is what binds us. It’s what makes living worthwhile.”

Julie thought of her life’s work and believed Pamela was right. She also thought of Michelle, who had become what Brandon once was: a symbol for the mercy movement with regular visitors to her grave. In a way, Michelle had shown great compassion to her victims. But without the patient’s choice in the matter, or the support of the law, Michelle’s compassion had been nothing less than a crime. As for Julie, her stance on death with dignity remained clouded. Sam’s case had made her more open to the opposing views of legalized assisted suicide.

The two women hugged briefly, then Pamela walked away. Lucy, Trevor, and Paul came over to Julie.

“What was that about?” Lucy asked.

“It’s about love and grief,” Julie said.

Paul pulled Julie into a side hug. He noticed Trevor looking.

“I’m very fond of your mom, son,” Paul said with a wink, “but we’re not getting back together.” Then Paul turned to Julie. “But I’m damn proud of her, and I couldn’t ask for a better mom for my son.” Paul gave Julie a gentle kiss on the forehead.

At that moment a loud buzzer drew the crowd’s attention to a gated entrance topped by razor wire. A door behind the enclosure opened and out stepped Brandon Stahl, dressed in street clothes, a big smile on his face, looking just like a man enjoying his first taste of freedom.