Philip Margolin - Gone ,but not forgotten

"I didn't beat up Vicky. I told her I didn't want to see her anymore and she became hysterical. She attacked me and I had to control her.

Besides, what does my fucking Vicky have to do with getting bail?"

Betsy shook her head. "This could sink you, Martin.

I know Norwood. He's straight-laced. Real old-fashioned.

The guy's been married to the same woman for forty years and goes to church on Sunday. If you'd told me, I could have softened the impact."

Darius shrugged. "I'm sorry," he said, without meaning it.

"Were you having sex with Laura Farrar or Wendy Reiser?"

"I hardly knew them."

"What about this party for the mall?"

"There were hundreds of people there. I don't even remember talking to Farrar or Reiser."

Betsy leaned back in her seat. She felt very uncomfortable alone with Darius in the narrow confines of the visiting room.

"Where did you go after you left the Hacienda Motel?"

Darius smiled sheepishly. "To a meeting at Brand, Gates and Valcroft with Russ Miller and the other people working on the advertising for Darius Construction. I'd just seen to it that Russ was put in charge of the account.

I guess that won't work anymore."

"You are one cold son-of-a-bitch, Martin. You screw Miller's wife, then throw him a bone. Now you're joking about her when she's been murdered.

Dr. Gregg said she could have been alive for hours, sliced open, in the most godawful pain. Do you know how much she must have suffered before she died?"

"No, Tannenbaum, I don't know bow much she suffered," Darius said, the smile leaving his face, "because I didn't kill her. So how about spreading a little of your sympathy in my direction? I'm the one who's being framed. I'm the one who wakes up every morning to this jail stench and has to eat the slop that passes for food."

Betsy glared at Darius and stood up. "Guard!" she shouted, pounding on the door. "I've had enough of you for today, Martin."

"Suit yourself The guard bent down to put the key in the lock.

"The next time we talk, I want the truth about everything. And that includes Hunter's Point."

The door opened. As Darius watched her walk away, the thinnest smile creased his lips.

International Exports was on the twenty-second floor of the First Interstate Bank Tower in a small suite of offices tucked away in a corner next to an insurance company. A middle-aged Hispanic woman looked up from her word processor when Reggie Stewart opened the door. She looked surprised, as if visitors were an uncommon sight.

Moments later, Stewart was seated across the desk from Manuel Ochoa, a well-dressed, heavy-set Mexican with a swarthy complexion and a bushy, salt-and-pepper mustache.

"This business with Martin is so terrible. Your district attorney must be insane to arrest someone so prominent. Certainly there is no evidence against him?" Ochoa said as be offered Stewart a slender cigarillo.

Stewart raised his hand, declining the smoke.

"Frankly, we don't know what Alan Page has. He's playing his cards close to the vest. That's why I'm talking to people who know Mr. Darius. We're trying to figure out what in the world Page is thinking."

Ochoa shook his head sympathetically. "I'll do anything I can to help, Mr. Stewart."

"Why don't you explain your relationship to Darius."

"We are business partners. He wanted to build a shopping mall near Medford and the banks would not finance it, so he came to me."

"How's the venture going?"

"Not well, I'm afraid. Martin has been having trouble lately. There is the unfortunate business with the site where the bodies were discovered.

He has a lot of money tied up in the town house project. His debts are mounting. Our venture has also been stalled."

"How serious is Darius's financial situation?"

Ochoa blew a stream of smoke at the ceiling. "Serious. I am concerned for my investment, but, of course, I am protected."

"If Mr. Darius stays in jail or is convicted, what will happen to his business?"

"I can't say. Martin is the genius behind his firm, but he does have competent men working for him.

"How friendly are you with Mr. Darius?" ochoa took a long drag on his cigarillo.

"Until recently, you could say we were friends, but not close friends.

Business acquaintances would be more accurate. I have had Martin to my home, we socialized occasionally. However, business pressures have strained our relationship."

Stewart laid photographs of the three women and a sheet of paper with the dates of their disappearances on the blotter.

"Were you with Mr. Darius on any of these dates?"

"I don't believe so."

"What about the photographs? Have you ever seen Mr. Darius with any of these women?" Ochoa studied the photos, then shook his head. "No, but I have seen Martin with other women." Stewart took out a pad. "I have a large house and I live alone. I enjoy getting together with friends.

Some of these friends are attractive, single women."

"Do you want to spell this out for me, Mr. Ochoa?"

Ochoa laughed. "Martin likes young women, but he is always discreet. I have guest bedrooms for my friends."

"Did Mr. Darius use drugs?"

Ochoa eyed Stewart curiously. "What does that have to do with your case, Mr. Stewart?"

"I need to know everything I can about my client.

You never know what's important."

"I have no knowledge of drugs and," Ochoa said, looking at his Rolex,"I'm afraid I have another appointment."

"Thanks for taking the time to see me."

"It was my pleasure. If I can be of further help to Martin, let me know.

And wish him the best for me."

Nora Sloane was waiting for Betsy on a bench outside the courthouse elevator.

"Did you talk to Mr. Darius?"

"Martin says you can tag along."

"Great!"

"Let's meet after court and I'll set up some ground rules."

"Okay. Do you know how judge Norwood is going to rule?"

"No. His secretary just said to be here at two."

Betsy turned the corner. judge Norwood's court was at the far end of the hall. Most of the people in the corridor were congregating outside the courtroom door. Television crews were grouped around the entrance and a guard was checking people through the metal detector.

Betsy flashed her Bar card at the guard. He stood aside.

Betsy and Sloane cut behind him and went into the courtroom without having to go through the metal detector. Martin Darius and Alan Page were in court. Betsy slid into the chair next to Darius and took her files and a pad out of her attache case.

"Have you seen Lisa?" he asked.

Betsy scanned the packed courtroom. "I told my secretary to call her, but she's not here yet."

"what's he going to do, Tannenbaum?"

Darius was trying to sound casual, but there was an edge to his voice.

"We'll soon find out," Betsy said as Harvey Cobb rapped the gavel. judge Norwood strode out of his chambers. He was clutching several sheets of yellow, lined paper. Norwood was a shoot-from-the-hip guy. If he'd taken the time to write out the reasons for his decision, he was expecting it to be appealed.

"This is a very troubling case," the judge said without preliminaries.

"Someone apparently tortured and murdered four innocent people. That person should not be roaming our streets. On the other hand, we have a presumption in this country that a person is innocent until proven guilty. We also have a guarantee of bail in our Constitution, which can be denied a defendant in a murder case only on a showing by the State that there is clear and convincing evidence of guilt.

"Mr. Page, you proved these people were murdered.

You proved they were buried at a site owned and visited by Mr. Darius.

You proved Mr. Darius knew the three women Victims. You also proved he was having an affair with one of them and may have beaten her the day she disappeared. What you have not shown, by clear and convincing evidence, is a connection between the defendant and the murders.