Gone, but not forgotten

Chapter Eleven

Alan Page was trapped in a car, careening downhill through traffic at breakneck speed on a winding turnpike, brakes screeching, tires smoking, twisting the wheel furiously to avoid an inevitable collision. When he sat up in bed, he was inches from the burning headlights of a massive semi. Sweat glued his flannel pajamas to his damp skin and he could feel the thunderous pounding of his heart. Page gulped down lungfuls of air, still uncertain where he was and half-expecting to die in a fireball Of lacerated steel and shattered glass.

"Jesus," he gasped when he was oriented. The clock read four fifty-eight, an hour and a half before the alarm would go off, four and a half hours before the bail hearing. He fell back onto his pillow, anxious and sure sleep was impossible, haunted by the question that had hounded him since the arrest of Martin Darius. Had he moved too soon?

Was there "clear and convincing" evidence that Martin Darius was a murderer?

Ross Barrow and Randy Highsmith had argued against searching Darius's house, even after hearing what Gutierrez had to say. They wanted to wait until Nancy Gordon was found and they had a stronger case, but he had overridden them and instructed Barrow to make an arrest if the tire tracks at the scene matched the treads on Darius's car. Now, he wondered if Barrow and Highsmith hadn't been right all along. He had counted on finding Nancy Gordon for the bail hearing, but even with three detectives working around the clock, they were striking out.

If he could not sleep, he could rest. Page closed his eyes and saw Nancy Gordon. He had thought of the detective constantly since learning that her body was not in the pit. If she was — alive, she would have gotten in touch with him as soon as she learned of Darius's arrest.

If she was alive, she would have returned to the Lakeview. Was she dead, a look of unimaginable suffering on her face? Darius knew the answer to Page's Questions, but the law forbade Alan to talk to him.

Page would need all of his energy in court, but the fear in his belly would not let him rest. He decided he would shower, shave, eat breakfast, then dress in his best suit and a crisp, starched shirt, fresh from the laundry. A shower and a big breakfast would make him feel human.

Then he would drive to the courthouse and try to convince the Honorable Patrick Norwood, judge of the Multnomah County Circuit Court, that Martin Darius was a serial killer.

Mar-tin Darius slept peacefully and felt well rested when he awoke with the other inmates of the Multnomah County jail. Betsy Tannenbaum had arranged to have his hair cut by his barber, and the watch commander was permitting him an extra shower before court. Only a breakfast of sticky pancakes soaked in gluey, jailhouse syrup spoiled his mood. Darius used the acidic taste of the jail coffee to cut the sweetness and ate them anyway, because he knew it would be a long day in court.

Betsy had exchanged a full wardrobe for the clothes in which Darius was arrested. When Darius met her in the interview room before court, he was attired in a double-breasted, chalk-striped, dark wool suit, a cotton broadcloth shirt and a navy blue, woven silk tie with white pinpoint dots. Betsy wore a single-breasted jacket and matching skirt of black and white, windowpane plaid and a white silk blouse with a wide collar.

When they walked down the courthouse corridor in the glare of the television lights, they would look like a couple you might "Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous," rather than seen on a suspected mass murderer and his mouthpiece.

"How are you feeling?" Darius asked.

"Fine."

"Good. I want you at your best today. jail is interesting, if you treat it as an educational experience, but I'm ready to graduate."

"I'm glad to see you're keeping your sense of humor."

Darius shrugged. "I have faith in you, Tannenbaum.

That's why I hired you. You're the best. You won't let me down."

The praise made Betsy feel good. She basked in it and believed what Darius told her. She was the best.

That was why Darius chose her over Matthew Reynolds, Oscar Montoya and the other established criminal defense lawyers.

"Who's our judge?" Darius asked.

"Pat Norwood."

"What's he like?"

"He's a crusty old codger who's nearing retirement.

He looks like a troll and acts like an ogre in court. He's no legal scholar, either. But he is completely impartial.

Norwood's rude and impatient with the prosecution and the defense and he won't be buffaloed by Alan Page or the press. If Page doesn't meet his burden of proof on the bail issue, Norwood will do the right thing."

"Do you think the State will meet its burden?" Darius asked.

"No, Martin, I don't think they will."

Darius smiled. "That's what I wanted to hear." Then the smile faded as he changed the subject. "Is Lisa going to be in court?"

"Of course. I talked to her yesterday."

"Looks like you're having more luck getting in touch with my wife than I am."

"Lisa's staying with her father. She didn't feel comfortable — alone in the house."

"That's funny," Darius said, flashing Betsy a chilly smile. "I called His Honor last night and he told me she wasn't home."

"She may have been out."

"Right. The next time you talk to my wife, please ask her to visit me, will you?"

"Sure. Oh, before I forget, there's a woman named Nora Sloane who's writing an article about women defense attorneys. She wants to follow me through your case. If I let her, there's a chance she might learn defense strategy or attorney-client confidences. I told her I had to ask your permission before I let her get involved. Do you have any objections to her tagging along?"

Darius held the question for a moment, then shook his head.

"I don't mind. Besides"-he grinned-"you'll have more incentive to do a great job for me if someone is writing about you."

"I never thought of it that way."

"That's why I'm a millionaire, Tannenbaum. I always figure the angles."

There were several new courtrooms outfitted with state of-the-art video equipment and computer technology that Patrick L. Norwood could have commandeered because of his senior status, but judge Norwood preferred the courtroom where he had ruled with an iron fist for twenty years. It had high ceilings, grand marble columns and a hand-carved wooden dais.

It was an old-fashioned courtroom, perfect for a man with the judicial temperament of a nineteenth-century hanging judge.

The courtroom was filled to capacity for the Martin Darius bail hearing.

Those who were too late to find a seat stood in line in the hall.

Spectators had to pass through a metal detector before entering the courtroom and there were extra security guards inside, because of death threats.

Harvey Cobb, an elderly black man, called the court to order. He had been Norwood's bailiff from the day the judge was appointed. Norwood came out of his chambers through a door behind the bench. Short and squat, he was ugly as sin, but his toadlike face was crowned by a full head of beautiful snowy white hair.

"Be seated," Cobb said. Betsy took her place beside Martin Darius and glanced briefly at Alan Page, who was sitting next to Randy Highsmith.

"Call your first witness, Mr. Page," Norwood ordered.

"The State calls Ross Barrow, Your Honor."

Harvey Cobb had Detective Barrow raise his right hand and swear to tell the truth. Barrow sat in the witness box and Page established his credentials as a homicide investigator.

"Detective Barrow, sometime in mid-August did you become aware of a series of unusual disappearances?"

"Yes, I did. In August a detective from our missing persons bureau told me that a woman named Laura Farrar was reported missing by her husband, Larry Farrar.

Larry told the detective that Objection, hearsay," Betsy said, standing.

"No," Norwood ruled. "This is a bail hearing, not a trial. I'm going to permit the State some leeway. If you need to examine some of these Witnesses, you can subpoena them. Let's move on, Mr. Page."

Page nodded at Barrow, who continued with his account of the investigation.

"Farrar told the detective that he had come home from work on August tenth, about eight o'clock. His house looked perfectly normal, but his wife was missing.

None of her clothes was missing or her makeup. In fact, nothing was missing from the house, as far as he could tell. The only unusual circumstance was a rose and a note Mr. Farrar found on his wife's pillow."

"Was there anything odd about the rose?"

"Yes, sir. A lab report on the rose indicates that it had been dyed black."

"What did the note say?"

"Gone, But Not Forgotten." Page handed a document and a photograph to the judge's clerk.

"This is a photocopy of the Farrar note and a photo graph of the rose, Your Honor. The originals are still at the lab. I talked about this with Mrs. Tannenbaum and she's willing to stipulate to the introduction of these and other copies, solely for purposes of this hearing."

"Is that so?" Norwood asked Betsy. She nodded.

"The exhibits will be received."

"Did the detective from missing persons tell you about a second disappearance in mid-September?"

"Yes, sir. Wendy Reiser, the wife of Thomas Reiser, was reported missing by her husband identical circumstances."

"Nothing disturbed in the house or missing?"

"Correct."

"Did Mr. Reiser find a black rose and a note on his wife's pillow?"

"He did."

Page introduced a photocopy of the Reiser note and a photograph of the Reiser rose.

"What did the lab say about the second note and rose?"

"They are identical to the note and rose found at the Farrar house."

"Finally, Detective, did you learn about a third, recent disappearance?"

"Yes, sir. Russell Miller reported his wife, Victoria, missing circumstances that were identical to the other cases. Note and rose on the pillow. Nothing disturbed or missing in the house."

"Several days ago, did you learn where the women were?"

Barrow nodded gravely. "The three women and an unidentified male were found buried in a construction site owned by Darius Construction."

"Who owns Darius Construction?"

"Martin Darius, the defendant."

"Was the gate to the site locked?"

"Yes, sir."

"Was a gaping hole located in the fence near the area where the bodies were found?"

"Yes, sir."

"Were tire tracks located near that hole?"

"They were."

"On the evening Mr. Darius was arrested, did you execute a search warrant at his residence?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did you locate any vehicles during the search?"

"We located a station wagon, a BMW and a black Ferrari."

"Move to introduce exhibits ten to twenty-three, which are photographs of the construction site, the hole in the fence, the tire tracks, the burial site and the bodies being removed from it, and the vehicles."

"No objection," Betsy said.

"Received."

"Was a cast made of the tire tracks?"

"It was. The tracks at the site match the tread on the BMW we found at Darius's house."

"Was the trunk of the BMW examined for trace evidence, such as hairs and fibers, that might have belonged to any of the victims?"

"Yes, sir. None was found."

"Did the lab report explain why?"

"The trunk had been recently vacuumed and cleaned."

"How old was the BMW?"

"A year old."

"Not a brand-new car?"

"No, sir."

"Detective Barrow, are you aware of any connections between the defendant and the murdered women?"

"I am. Yes. Mr. Reiser works for the law firm that represents Darius Construction. He and his wife met the defendant at a party Mr. Darius threw this summer to celebrate the opening of a new mall."

"How soon before the disappearance of the first woman, Laura Farrar, was this party?"

"Approximately three weeks."

"Were Mr. and Mrs. Farrar at that party?"

"They were. Mr. Farrar works for the accounting firm that Mr. Darius uses."

"And Russell and Victoria Miller?"

"They were at the party too, but they have closer ties with the defendant. Mr. Miller was just put in charge of the Darius Construction account at Brand, Gates and Valcroft, the advertising agency. They also socialized with Mr. and Mrs. Darius."

Page checked his notes, conferred with Randy High Smith, then said,

"Your witness, Mrs. Tannenbaum.

Betsy looked at a legal pad on which she had listed several points she wanted to bring out through Barrow.

She selected several police reports from the discovery she received from the district attorney.

"Good morning, Detective Barrow. Teams of criminalists from the Oregon State Crime Lab went through the houses of all three women, did they not?"

"That's true."

"Isn't it — also true that none of these fine scientists found a single piece of physical evidence connecting Martin Darius to the homes of laura Farrar, Victoria Miller or Wendy Reiser?"

"The person who murdered these women is very clever. He knows how to clean up a crime scene."

"Your Honor," Betsy said calmly, "will you please direct Detective Barrow to listen to the questions I ask him and respond to those questions? I'm sure Mr. Page will try to explain the problems with his case during argument." judge Norwood glared at Betsy. "I don't need an editorial from you, Mrs. Tannenbaum. Just make your objections." Then Norwood swiveled toward the witness.

"And you've testified enough times to know you only answer what you're asked. Save the clever answers. They don't impress me."

"So, Detective Barrow, what's your answer? Was a single shred of physical evidence linking my client to any victim found at any of the homes of the missing women?"

"No."

"How about on the bodies?"

"We found the tire tracks."

"Your Honor?" Betsy asked.

"Detective Barrow, were there tire tracks on the body of any of those women?" the judge asked sarcastically.

Barrow looked embarrassed. "Sorry, Your Honor."

"Are you catching on, Detective?" judge Norwood asked.

"There was no physical evidence at the burial site connecting the defendant with any of the women," Detective Barrow answered.

"A dead man was — also found at the burial site?"

"Yes."

"Who is he?"

"we don't know."

"So there's nothing connecting this man to Martin Darius?"

"We don't know that. Until we find out who he is, we can't investigate his possible connection with your client."

Betsy was going to object but decided to let the re mark pass. If Barrow kept fencing, he'd keep pissing off the judge.

"You told the judge about the tire tracks you found near the fence.

Don't you think you should tell him about the interview you had with Rudy Doschman?"

"I interviewed him. What about it?"

"Do you have your report of that interview?" Betsy asked, as she walked toward the witness stand.

"Not with me."

"Why don't you take my copy and read this paragraph?" Betsy said, handing the detective a police report she had found in the discovery material. Barrow read the report and looked up.

"Mr. Doschman is a foreman with Darius Construction who was working on the site where the bodies were found?" Betsy asked.

"Yes."

"He told you Mr. Darius visited the site on many occasions, did he not?"

"Yes."

"In his BMW?"

"Yes."

"He also explained that the hole in the fence was there for some time?"

"Yes."

"In fact, it may have been the way the arsonists who burned down some of Mr. Darius's town houses entered the site several weeks ago?"

"It could be."

"There is no evidence connecting Mr. Darius to the roses or the notes?"

Barrow looked like he was going to say something, but he choked it back and shook his head.

"And you stand by that statement, even though officers of the Portland Police Bureau made a thorough search, pursuant to a warrant, of Mr.

Darius's home."

"We found nothing connecting him to the roses or the notes," Barrow answered tersely.

"No murder weapons either?"

"No."

"Nothing in the trunk of the BMW connecting him to the crimes?"

"No."

Betsy turned to Darius. "Anything else you want me to ask?"

Darius smiled. "You're doing just fine, Tannenbaum."

"No further questions."

Barrow hoisted himself out of the witness box and walked quickly to the back of the courtroom as Page called his next witness.

"Dr. Susan Gregg," Page said. An attractive woman in her early forties with salt-and-pepper hair, wearing a conservative gray suit, took the witness stand.

"Will counsel stipulate to Dr. Gregg's qualifications for purposes of this hearing?" Page asked Betsy.

"We assume Dr. Gregg is well known to the court," Betsy said, "so, for purposes of this hearing only, we stipulate that Dr. Gregg is the state medical examiner and qualified to give opinions on cause of death."

"Thank you," Page said to Betsy. "Dr. Gregg, were you called to a construction site owned by Darius Construction, earlier this week, to examine the remains of four individuals who were found buried there?"

"I was."

"And you conducted the autopsies of all four victims?"

"Yes."

"What is an autopsy, Dr. Gregg?"

"It's an examination of a body after death to determine, among other things, cause of death."

"Will you explain what your autopsy involved?"

"Certainly. I examined the bodies carefully for serious injuries, natural diseases and other natural causes of death."

"Did any of the victims die a natural death?"

"No."

"What injuries did you observe?"

"All four individuals had numerous burns and cutting injuries on various parts of their bodies. Three of the male's fingers had been severed.

There was evidence of sharp cuts on the women's breasts. The nipples on the women had been mutilated, as had the genitalia of the man and the women. Do you want me to go into detail?"

"That won't be necessary for this hearing. How did the three women die?"

"Their abdomens had been deeply cut, resulting in serious injuries to their bowel and abdominal viscera."

"When a person is disemboweled, do they die quickly?"

"No. A person can stay — alive for some time in this condition."

"Can you give the court a rough estimate?"

Gregg shrugged. "It's hard to say. Two to four hours.

Eventually they die from shock and loss of blood."

"And that was the cause of death of these women?"

"Yes."

"And the male?"

"He suffered a fatal gunshot wound to the back of his head."

"Did you order laboratory tests?"

"Yes. I had the blood tested for alcohol. The results were negative for all of the victims. I ordered a urine screen for drugs of abuse. This involves testing the urine for the presence of five drugs; cocaine, morphine, marijuana, amphetamine and PCP. Our results were all negative."

Page studied his notes and conferred with Highsmith before turning the witness over to Betsy. She reread a portion of the autopsy report and frowned.

"Dr. Gregg, I'm confused by some remarks you made on page four of your report. Were the women raped?"

"That's hard to say. I found bruises and tears around the genitalia and rectum. Tearing that would indicate invasion by a foreign object."

"Did you test for semen?"

"I did not find any traces of seminal fluid."

"So you can't say conclusively that the women were raped?"

"I can only say there was penetration and violent injury. There was no evidence of male ejaculation."

"Did you draw a conclusion concerning whether the women were murdered at the construction site?"

"I believe they were killed elsewhere."

"Why?"

"There would have been a large amount of blood at the murder scene because of their massive cutting injuries. There were also organs removed from two of the women."

"Would the rain obscure traces of their blood?"

"No. They were buried. The rain would have washed away the blood on the surface, but we should have found larger quantities the bodies in the graves."

"So you believe the women were killed someplace else and transported to the site?"

Yes.

"If they were transported in the trunk of a BMW, could you erase all traces of blood from the trunk?"

"Objection," Page said. "Dr. Gregg is not qualified to answer that question. She is a medical doctor, not a forensic chemist."

"I'll let her answer, if she can," the judge ruled.

"I'm — afraid that's outside my area of expertise," the doctor answered.

"The male was not disemboweled?"

"No."

"Nothing further."

Alan Page stood. He looked a little unsure of himself.

"Your Honor, I'm going to call myself Mr. Highsmith will examine." as a witness.

"Objection, Your Honor. It's unethical for an attorney to testify as a witness in a case he's trying."

"That might be true in a trial before a jury, Your Honor," Page replied,

"but the court is not going to have any trouble deciding my credibility as a witness, if that comes into question, simply because I'm also arguing the State's position."

Norwood looked troubled. "This is unusual. Why do you have to testify?"

"what's he up to?" Darius whispered in Betsy's ear Betsy shook her head.

She was studying Page. He looked ill at ease and grim. Something was troubling the district attorney.

"Your Honor, I'm in possession of evidence you must hear if you are going to make a reasoned decision on the issue of bail. Unless I testify, you'll be without the most important evidence we have that Martin Darius is the man who killed Laura Farrar, Wendy Reiser and Victoria Miller."

"I'm confused, Mr. Page," Norwood said testily.

"How can you have this evidence? Were you an eyewitness?" Norwood shook his head. "I don't get it."

Page cleared his throat. "Your Honor, there is a witness. Her name is Nancy Gordon." Darius took a deep breath and leaned forward intently.

"Ten years ago, an identical series of murders occurred in Hunter's Point, New York. The day before we found the bodies, Detective Gordon told me about those murders and why she believed Martin Darius committed them."

"Then call Detective Gordon," Norwood said.

"I can't. She's missing and she may be dead. She checked into a motel room after leaving me. I called her several times starting around eight, eight-thirty, the next morning. I think something happened to her shortly after she checked in. It looks like she was unpacking when something interrupted her. All of her possessions were in the room, but she hasn't come back for them. I have a team of detectives looking for her, but we've had no luck so far."

"Your Honor," Betsy said, "if Mr. Page is going to testify about this woman's statements to prove my client murdered some women ten years ago, it will be pure hearsay. I know the court is giving Mr. Page leeway, but Mr. Darius has state and federal constitutional rights to confront the witnesses against him."

Norwood nodded. "That's true, Mrs. Tannenbaum.

I'll tell you, Mr. Page, this bothers me. Isn't there another witness from Hunter's Point you can call who can testify about these other crimes?"

"Not on such short notice. I know the names of the other detectives who worked on the case, but they don't work for the Hunter's Point police anymore and I haven't traced them."

Norwood leaned back and almost disappeared from view. Betsy was dying to know what the missing detective had told Page, but she had to keep the testimony out if it was the ammunition Page needed to keep Martin Darius in jail.

"It's eleven-fifteen, folks,"- Norwood said. "We'll adjourn until one-thirty. I'll hear legal argument then."

Norwood stood up and walked out of the courtroom.

Harvey Cobb rapped the gavel and everyone stood.

"Now I know why Page thinks I killed those women," Darius whispered to Betsy. "When can we talk?"

"I'll come up to the jail right now."

Betsy turned to one of the guards. "Can you put Mr. Darius in the interview room? I want to talk to him."

"Sure, Mrs. Tannenbaum. We're gonna wait for the court to clear before taking him up. You can ride with us in the jail elevator if you want."

"Thanks, I will."

The guard handcuffed Darius. Betsy glanced toward the back of the courtroom. Lisa Darius was standing near the door, talking to Nora Sloane. Lisa glanced toward Betsy. Betsy smiled. Lisa did not smile back, but she did nod toward her. Betsy raised a hand to let Lisa know she would be right with her. Lisa said something to Sloane.

Sloane smiled and patted Lisa's shoulder, then left the courtroom.

"I'm going to talk to Lisa for a moment," Betsy told Darius. Lisa was waiting just inside the door, looking nervously through the glass at the waiting reporters.

"That woman said she's working with you on an article for Pacific West,"

Lisa said.

"That's right. She's going to tag — along while I try Martin's case to see how I work."

"she said she'd like to talk to me. What should I do?"

"Nora seems responsible, but you make up your own mind. How are you holding up?"

"This is terrible. The reporters won't leave me alone.

When I moved to Daddy's house I had to sneak out of the estate through the woods so they wouldn't know where I was going."

"I'm sorry, Lisa. This isn't going to get any easier for YOU."

Lisa hesitated, then she asked, will the judge let Mar-tin out on bail?"

"There's a good chance he'll have to. The State's evidence has been pretty weak, so far."

Lisa looked worried.

"Is something troubling you?"

"No," Lisa answered too quickly.

"if you know anything about this case, please tell me. I don't want any surprises."

"It's the reporters, they've really gotten to me," Lisa said, but Betsy knew she was lying.

"We're ready," the guard told Betsy.

"I've got to talk to Martin. He wants you to visit him."

Lisa nodded, but her thoughts seemed far away.

"Who is Nancy Gordon?" Betsy asked Darius. They were sitting next to each other in the narrow confines of the courthouse jail visiting room.

"One of the detectives on the task force. I met her the night Sandy and Melody died. She interviewed me at the house. Gordon was engaged to another cop, but he was killed a few weeks before the wedding. She was still grieving when I joined the task force and she tried to help me deal with my grief.

"Nancy and I were thrown together on several occasions. I didn't realize it, but she took my friendliness as something else and, well…"

Darius looked into Betsy's eyes. Their knees were almost touching. His head bent toward her. "I was vulnerable. We both were. You can't understand what it feels like to lose someone you love like that, until it happens to you.

"I became convinced Waters was the rose killer and I did a stupid thing.

Without telling anyone, I started following him. I even staked out his house, hoping I'd catch him in the act." Darius smiled sheepishly. "I made a mess of things and — almost blew the investigation. I was so obvious, a neighbor called the police to complain about this strange man who was camped outside their house. The police came. I felt like an idiot. Nancy bailed me out. We met at a restaurant near the police station and she let me have it.

"By the time we'd finished eating, it was late. I offered to drive her home because her car was in for repairs. We'd both had a few beers. I don't even remember who started it. The bottom line is, we ended up in bed."

Darius looked down at his hands, as if he was ashamed. Then he shook his bead.

"It was a stupid thing to do. I should have known she would take it too seriously. I mean, it was good for us to have someone to spend the night with. We were both so lonely. But she thought I loved her, and I didn't.

It was too soon — after Sandy. When I didn't want to continue the relationship, she grew bitter. Fortunately Waters was caught soon after that and my involvement with the task force ended, so there was no reason for us to see each other. Only, Nancy couldn't let go. She called me at home and at the office. She wanted to meet and talk about us. I told her there was no 'us," but it was hard for her to accept."

"Did she accept it?"

Darius nodded. "She stopped calling, but I knew she was bitter. What I can't understand is how she could possibly think I killed Sandy and Melody."

"If the judge lets Page testify," Betsy said, "we'll soon find out."