Philip Margolin - Gone ,but not forgotten

"No one saw Mr. Darius kill these people. There is no scientific evidence connecting him to any of the bodies or the homes from which they disappeared. You have matched the tires on the BMW to the tracks left at the murder site, but Mr. Darius visited that site frequently.

Granted, it is suspicious that the tracks led up to the hole in the fence, but that's not enough, especially when there is no evidence connecting the BMW with any victim.

"Now I know you'll tell me that Mr. Darius destroyed the evidence by cleaning the trunk of his car, and that looks suspicious. But the standard I must use to deny bail is clear and convincing evidence, and the absence of evidence, no matter how suspicious the circumstances, is not a substitute for evidence.

"Really, Mr. Page, the crux of your case is the information given to you by this Gordon woman. But she wasn't here to be cross-examined by Mrs. Tannenbaum.

Why isn't she here? We don't know. Is it because of foul play or because she made up the story she told you and is smart enough to avoid committing perjury?

"Even if I accept what you say, Mr. Darius is guilty of the Hunter's Point murders only if we accept Detective Gordon's theory. This Henry Waters fellow was named by the Hunter's Point police as the killer. If Waters is the killer, then Mr. Darius was a victim of the man." judge Norwood paused to take a sip of water. Betsy choked back a victory grin.

She glanced to her left. Alan Page was sitting stiffly, eyes straight ahead.

"Bail will be set in the sum of one million dollars.

Mr. Darius may be released if he posts ten percent."

"Your Honor," Page exclaimed, leaping to his feet.

"This won't help you, Mr. Page. I've made up my mind. Personally, I'm surprised to see you force this hearing with such a skimpy case." judge Norwood turned his back on the prosecutor and walked off the bench.

"I knew I did the right thing hiring you, Tannenbaum," Darius exclaimed.

"How long will it take to get me out of here?"

"As long as it takes you to post the bail and the jail to process you.

"Then call Terry Stark, my accountant at Darius Construction. He's waiting to hear from you. Tell him the amount he has to post and tell him to get it down here immediately."

Nora Sloane watched Betsy field questions from the press, then walked with her toward the elevators.

"You must feel great," Sloane said.

Betsy was tempted to feed Sloane the same upbeat line she had given to the reporters, but she liked Nora and felt she could confide in her.

"Not really."

"why is that?"

"I admit, winning gives me a rush, but Norwood is right. Page's case was very skimpy. Anyone would have won this hearing. If this is the best Page can do, he won't get his case to a jury.

"Also, I don't know who Martin Darius is. If he's a husband and father who found his wife and child brutally murdered, then I did something good today. But what if he really murdered the women in the pit?"

"You think he's guilty?"

"I didn't say that. Martin insists he's innocent and I haven't seen anything to convince me otherwise. What I mean is, I still don't know for certain what happened here or in Hunter's Point."

"if you knew for certain that Darius was the rose killer, would you still represent him?"

"We have a system in America. It's not perfect, but it's worked for two hundred years and it depends on giving a fair trial to every person who goes through the courts, no matter what they've done. Once you start discriminating, for any reason, the system breaks down. The real test of the system is when it deals with a Bundy or a Manson, someone everyone fears and despises. If you can try that person fairly, then you send a message that we are a nation of law."

"Can you imagine a case you wouldn't take?" Sloane asked. "A client you might find so repulsive that your conscience would not let you represent him?"

"That's the question you confront when you choose to practice criminal law. If you can't represent that client, you don't belong in the business."

Betsy checked her watch. "Look, Nora, that's going to have to be it for today. I've got to make certain Martin's bail is posted, and my mother's watching Kathy, so I've got to leave the office a little early."

"Kathy is your daughter?"

Betsy smiled.

"I'd like to meet her."

"I'll introduce you to Kathy soon. My mom, too.

You'll like them. Maybe I'll have you over for dinner."

"Great," Sloane said.

"Lisa Darius is waiting for you in your office," Ann said as soon as Betsy walked in. "I hope you don't mind. She's very upset about something and she was afraid to sit in the waiting room."

"That's okay. Does she know Martin's going to be released on bail?"

"Yes. I asked her how the judge ruled when she came in and she said you won.

"I didn't see her in court."

"I called her about the court appearance as soon as you told me to."

"I'm sure you did. Look, call Terry Stark at Darius Construction," Betsy said, writing down the name and phone number. "I told him how to post the bail a few days ago. He'll need a cashier's check for one hundred thousand. If there are any problems, buzz me."

Betsy did not recognize Lisa at first. She wore tight jeans, a blue turtleneck and a multicolored ski sweater.

Her long hair was pulled back in a French braid, her emerald eyes were red from crying.

"Lisa, are you all right?"

"I never thought they'd let him out. I'm so scared."

"Of Martin? Why?"

Lisa put her hands to her face. "He's so cruel. No one knows how cruel.

In public, he's charming. And sometimes he's just as charming with me when we're alone. He surprises me with flowers, jewelry. When he wants to, he treats me like a queen and I forget what he's really like inside.

Oh God, Betsy, I think he killed those women."

Betsy was stunned. Lisa started to cry.

"Do you want some water?" Betsy asked.

Lisa shook her head. "Just give me a moment."

They sat quietly while Lisa caught her breath. Outside, a winter sun was shining and the ground was so crisp and brittle, it seemed you could crack it into a million pieces. When Lisa spoke, her words came in a rush.

"I understand what Andrea Hammermill went through. Taking it, because you don't want anyone to know how bad it is and because there are good times and… and you love him."

Lisa sobbed. Her shoulders shook. Betsy wanted to comfort Lisa, but not as much as she wanted to learn what Darius had done to her to put her in this state, so she sat stiffly, waiting for Lisa to regain her composure.

"I do love him and I hate him and I'm scared of him," Lisa said hopelessly. "But this… If he…"

"Wife-beating is very common, Lisa. Serial murder isn't. Why do you think Martin may have killed these women?"

"It's more than beatings. There's a perverted side to… to what he does. His sexual needs… One time… This is very hard for me."

"Take your time."

"He wanted sex. We'd been to a party. I was tired. I told him. He insisted. We had an argument. No. That's not true. He never argues. He he…"

Lisa closed her eyes. Her hands were clenched in her lap. Her body was rigid. When she spoke, she kept her eyes shut.

"He told me very calmly that I would have sex with him. I was getting angrier and angrier. The way he was speaking, it's the way you talk to a very small child or someone who's retarded. It enraged me. And the more I screamed, the calmer he became.

"Finally he said, "Take off your clothes," the way you'd command a dog to roll over. I told him to go to hell. The next thing I knew, I was on the floor. He hit me in the stomach. I lost my air. I was helpless.

"When I started to breathe, I looked up. Martin was smiling. He ordered me to take my clothes off again in that same voice. I shook my head. I couldn't talk yet, but I was damned if I was going to give in. He knelt down, grabbed my nipple through my blouse and squeezed. I almost blacked out from the pain. I was crying now and thrashing around on the floor.