CHAPTER 19
ON TUESDAY MORNING, THE DAY AFTER SIDNEY VISITED THE SEBOLDS in Fayetteville, she and Derrick left the network headquarters in Midtown and cabbed to Bellevue Hospital.
Inside, directions came from the information desk, and after two elevator rides and a quarter mile of fluorescent-lit hallways, they found the OB-GYN ward.
“Sidney Ryan to see Dr. Reiser,” she said to the receptionist.
“Through the doors and to your left.”
Derrick lifted his camera and set it on his shoulder. He peered through the viewfinder and adjusted for the bright lighting on the obstetrics ward. After a moment, he put his thumb and index finger together to give Sidney the okay sign as the automatic glass doors opened.
A brief perusing of Grace’s visitors over the years showed only a couple of nonrelatives that had consistently made the trip to Bordelais Correctional Facility in St. Lucia: Ellie Reiser was one of them.
As Sidney knocked on the door frame, Dr. Reiser was already moving across the office to greet her.
With a broad smile, she shook hands with Sidney as Derrick backed into the corner of the office to capture the meeting.
Heels pushed her to nearly six feet tall.
Dressed in a chic, slim-fitted dress, Ellie Reiser looked more like a model than a surgeon.
But Sidney knew well the preparation people took when they were about to be recorded.
“Thanks for meeting with me,” Sidney said.
“Of course. When Grace told me you finally contacted her, we were elated.”
“I received your letters,” Sidney said. “I read all of them.”
Over the years, Ellie Reiser had been nearly as persistent as Grace with letters and e-mails asking for Sidney’s help.
“I’m sure you’re swamped with requests,” Ellie said. “I’m just grateful Grace’s story will finally be told. So much of what’s out there was distorted during her trial.”
“We’re going to work to clear that up,” Sidney said. “Derrick will record while we talk. You’ll get used to the camera. Just ignore it the best you can.”
Ellie pointed to the desk and they both sat down. Derrick moved into position.
“How much of what we discuss will be used?”
“As much as is relevant,” Sidney said. “But I’ll let you know what I think we’ll use before I cut the episode.
All I need is for you to answer the questions honestly.
I know we’re talking about events from ten years ago, and longer, so do the best you can.
Like you said, the public knows only Grace Sebold, the convicted murderer.
In the next episode, we’re going to show them who Grace was before Sugar Beach.
I spoke with the Sebolds yesterday and understand a lot about Grace that I didn’t know before.
I’m hoping to expand on that history today. Are you ready?”
Ellie Reiser nodded.
“Tell me how you know Grace.”
Ellie offered a small laugh. “Grace and I have been friends since grade school. Gosh, third or fourth grade, I suppose. We’ve been inseparable since then, all the way through high school. We stayed close through college and medical school. I was at SUNY and Grace was at Boston University.”
“And you were with Grace in St. Lucia at Sugar Beach?”
“Yes. Charlotte Brooks, one of our best friends from high school, invited us to her wedding. She was marrying Daniel Greaves, another friend of ours. We all gathered at Sugar Beach, like it was a high-school reunion. Julian was Grace’s plus one.”
“And for the last ten years, you’ve practiced medicine?”
“Yes, obstetrics.”
Over the years when Ellie Reiser had learned to survive the rigors of surgical residency and the demands of hospital life as a busy physician, Grace Sebold had learned to survive in a foreign penitentiary. Sidney would make sure that point came through clearly in the next episode.
“Did you know Julian Crist?”
“Not well,” Ellie said. “But, yes, I knew him. I knew Grace was crazy about him. They met in India during the summer after second year of medical school when Grace volunteered for a couple of weeks with a Doctors Without Borders program. Julian was at NYU, so I had only met him a couple of times before Sugar Beach.”
“During the trip to Sugar Beach, Grace and Julian broke the news that they were accepted to the same residency program in neurosurgery. But Grace’s interest was not always neurology, am I correct?”
“That’s right,” Ellie said. “She had wanted to go into obstetrics, same as myself. For most of our childhoods, we both wanted to deliver babies. Grace was born with—” Ellie stopped. “I’m not sure how much Grace told you, but she was born with a rare form of leukemia.”
“Yes,” Sidney said. “Marshall was a matching bone marrow donor.”
“That’s right,” Ellie said. “It made Grace want to deliver babies. She said she wanted to protect them.” Ellie smiled. “That was our thing, sort of our childhood dream that we shared.”
“What changed her mind about obstetrics?”
There was a short pause as Ellie searched for the correct wording. “Marshall’s accident. Did Grace’s parents tell you about that?”
“They did.”
“He’s . . . Marshall has had a lot of trouble since then. He’s not . . . TBI can change a person’s personality, and cause a number of physical ailments as well.”
“TBI, traumatic brain injury,” Sidney said to clarify.
“Correct. Marshall was never the same after the accident, and it broke Grace’s heart. Marshall’s condition is what caused Grace to go into neurology.” Ellie blinked a few times. “That was the plan. She obviously never got the chance.”
“The accident,” Sidney said. “I understand the driver of the U-Haul truck was charged with DUI.”
“Yes.”
“I still sensed, though, that Marshall Sebold holds you in contempt. He had a roundabout way of telling me about you.”
Ellie nodded slowly. “I’m afraid that will likely never change.”
Sidney pulled a stack of papers from her bag. “I counted sixty-two letters that you’ve sent me over the last three years asking for help,” Sidney said. “What makes you so certain Grace is innocent?”
“Oh . . . so many things,” Ellie said. “She’s my best friend, first of all, and I know she could never kill anyone.
But that’s a subjective answer, and I understand it doesn’t stand up to scrutiny.
That’s just what’s in my heart. The better answer is that I was with Grace the night Julian died.
Slept in her cottage at the resort. Simply stated, I’m her alibi.
You can run the timeline anyway you’d like—and I have many times over the years.
There is no way Grace could have killed Julian that night. ”
“How did the investigators and detectives in St. Lucia respond when you told them this?”
“They didn’t. They interviewed me once, and never asked me another question.”
“During that lone interview, though, did you tell them you were with Grace the night Julian was killed?”
“Of course. But they weren’t interested in details that didn’t support their narrative. I eventually told my story to Grace’s attorney, but my testimony was not allowed during the trial.”
“Why?”
Ellie offered a dejected expression.
“The prosecutor argued that I’d been drinking that day, and that by evening, I was intoxicated.
He argued that although I slept in Grace’s room, I was too drunk to know if she left after I .
. . what they suggested, passed out. At trial, the prosecution petitioned the magistrate to keep my testimony out of the courtroom. The request was granted.”
“Had you been drinking?”
Ellie nodded. “We were twenty-five years old and on spring break. We were all drinking.”
“Were you drunk?”
“Not to the point that I don’t remember being with Grace that night.”
“Did you pass out?”
Ellie shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve never been a big drinker. I didn’t even taste alcohol until my twenty-first birthday. So I was not intoxicated to the point that the prosecution was suggesting. I . . . fell asleep at some point. But did I fall-on-my-face pass out? No. I went to sleep.”
“In Grace’s cottage?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you sleep in Grace’s room that night?”
“She was upset. She and Julian had gotten into an argument. Grace asked me to come to her cottage, so I did. I was being a good friend.”
“The fight about Daniel?”
Ellie nodded. “It was probably my fault, the fight they had.”
“How so?”
“I wasn’t keen on how fast things were moving between them. I felt like Grace might be getting in over her head.”
“In what way?”
Ellie shrugged. “Julian was planning to propose. I thought it was a bad idea.”
“How do you know this?” Sidney asked.
“Because he told me. I mentioned that I thought it was too soon to ask her.” Ellie shook her head. “It didn’t matter, he never got the chance.”
Ellie’s eyes glassed over as though she might cry.
“He was gone the next day.”