Girl, 11 by Amy Clarke (grave mercy TXT) 📗

they broke away, Martín’s eyes were bright with emotion. “Elle, you’re good at your job. I know how important this case is to you. Just, please promise me you’ll be more careful, okay?”

Elle took his face in her hands and kissed him one more time before pulling back to look into his eyes. “I promise.”

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Justice Delayed podcast

December 19, 2019

Transcript: Season 5, Episode 3

Elle voice-over:

There is an event known in medical circles as agonal respiration. It often happens when a person is dying. They open their mouths and take a gulping, wheezing attempt at breath. You can hear the air get trapped in their throats, unable to pass through.

That’s what investigating the Countdown Killer case is like: one final gasp of something that’s near death, a last-ditch effort to get enough oxygen to survive.

[SOUND BREAK: Cars driving by on a highway; the blare of a semitruck horn.]

Elle voice-over:

Twelve-year-old Jessica Elerson was the last known girl murdered by the Countdown Killer. She went missing just a few yards from where I’m standing outside a Super Target just off I-694.

[THEME MUSIC + INTRO]

[SOUND BREAK: A clip of theme music from SpongeBob SquarePants.]

Elle voice-over:

Jessica loved SpongeBob. She was a bona fide nerd, spending her free time watching goofy cartoons and playing whatever video games she could buy or rent with her allowance. Jessica loved board games and science experiment kits, My Little Pony and microscopes. She kept her parents busy with all the school clubs she joined, but she always made time to help out with her little brother. She loved being an older sister more than anything in the world.

Bonnie:

If Jessica wasn’t at school or one of her extracurricular activities, she was playing with Simon. She was seven when we found out we had another baby on the way, and she couldn’t have been more excited. She was meant to be a big sister.

[SOUND BREAK: Steaming wand screeching as it foams milk; grinding coffee beans.]

Elle voice-over:

This is Bonnie Elerson, Jessica’s mother. We met in a café in her town, which I won’t disclose for privacy reasons. Bonnie looks like most of the white, Midwestern mothers I grew up around: graying hair in short, loose curls; smooth hands with blunt, practical nails; straight teeth with a smattering of silver fillings that show when she laughs, which she does more than I expected. I like Bonnie. If you didn’t know what she’d been through, you would probably never guess. The amount of pain a woman can bear with a smile on her face is astonishing.

Elle:

Does Simon remember her?

Bonnie:

Yes. It’s hard to tell, really, how many of his memories were formed independently, and how many have been created by us recounting them. He was five when she was . . . when she passed. But we talked about her all the time. Some of our friends said it might be better if we pretended with Simon like she had never been there, but we couldn’t do that to him. All he did for weeks after was ask for his sister. For the first month or so, I couldn’t stop worrying about how upset he was, how devastated that she wasn’t coming home. Then, when he finally accepted it, I became terrified he would forget her entirely. Somehow, that broke my heart just as much. I had to make sure he remembered his sister, how much she loved him. So yes, we talked about her. We made sure he knew she didn’t leave him on purpose.

Elle:

You took care of your son, even when no one could have blamed you for falling apart about your daughter.

Bonnie:

Of course. We couldn’t stop being parents.

Elle:

I can’t imagine the decision to speak to me was an easy one. I want you to know I’m really grateful for it. You’re the first parent who’s talked to me about their child, and even though I completely understand why no one else was able to, it’s invaluable to hear from you. You knew Jessica better than anyone. If you don’t mind, can you tell me what happened the day she was taken?

Bonnie:

We were at the store, getting groceries after her swimming lessons on Monday. We always did our weekly shop on that day, so we could have the weekends to relax as a family. Like she usually did, about halfway through my shopping she got bored and asked for some money to play the arcade games in the entryway. She liked the claw one where you try to pick up a stuffed animal. Wasn’t very good at it, although I think those things are rigged. But the money went to charity, so I didn’t mind.

Well, I finished up and went to get her, but she wasn’t there. I searched the candy section, the bakery, called her name. I just remember being so embarrassed. I felt like one of those useless moms that lost her kid, and Jessica was twelve. It wasn’t like she was a toddler. But finally, I had to give up and find security. They put it out over the PA system, telling her to come meet me by the service desk, and I remember thinking I was going to give her a piece of my mind once she came back from whatever silly shopping excursion she’d gone on. Only she never came back.

Elle:

Do you remember what happened next?

Bonnie:

It took a while for it to hit me that something was wrong. That the delay in her coming back was far too long to be explained by her trying not to get into trouble. This was before most people had cell phones, so I used the phone in the security office to call Chris, my husband. After that, it’s a blur. I don’t remember who called the police, but they were there and asking questions, and I was just staring at that stupid claw machine, waiting for her to pop out from behind it and say it was just a big misunderstanding. I even entertained, for