Philip Margolin - Gone ,but not forgotten

He did it to my other nipple, and I couldn't stand it. The horrible thing was how methodical he was. There was no passion in it. And he had the tiniest smile on his face, as if he was enjoying himself immensely but didn't want anyone to know.

"I was on the verge of passing out when he stopped.

I sprawled on the floor, exhausted. I knew I couldn't fight him anymore.

The next time he ordered me to, I took off my clothes."

"Did he rape you?" Betsy asked. She felt queasy.

Lisa shook her head. "That was the worst thing. He looked at me for a moment. There was a smile of satisfaction on his face I will never forget. Then he told me that I must — always submit to him when he wanted sex and that I would be punished anytime I disobeyed him. He told me to get on all fours. I thought he was going to take me from behind.

Instead, he made me crawl across the floor like a dog.

"We have a clothes closet in our bedroom. He opened the door and made me go in, naked. He said I would have to stay there without making a sound until he let me out. He told me I would be severely punished if I made any sound."

Lisa started sobbing again.

"He kept me in the closet all weekend without food.

He put in some toilet paper and a bucket to… to use if I… I was so hungry and so scared.

"He told me that he would open the door when he was ready and I would immediately have sex with him or I would go back. When he opened the door I just crawled out and… and did anything he wanted. When he was through with me, he led me into the bathroom and bathed me, as if I was a baby. There were clothes laid out on the bed. Evening clothes. And a bracelet. It must have cost a fortune. Diamonds, rubies, gold. It was my reward for obedience. When I was dressed, he took me to a restaurant for a lavish dinner. All evening, he treated me like a queen.

"I was certain he would want me again when we got home. It's all I thought about at dinner. I had to force myself to eat, because I was nauseous thinking of what was coming but I was afraid he would do something to me if I didn't eat. Then when we got home he just went to sleep and he didn't touch me for a week."

"Did he ever do anything like that to you again?"

"No," Lisa said, hanging her head. "He didn't have to. I learned my lesson. If he said he wanted sex, I did what he wanted. And I received my rewards. And no one knew, until now, what I've been going through."

"Did you ever think of leaving him?" Betsy asked.

"He… he told me if I told anyone the things he did, or tried to run away, he would kill me. If you heard the way he said it, so calm, so detached… I knew he'd do it. I knew."

Lisa took deep breaths until she was back in control.

"There's something else," Lisa said. Betsy noticed a shopping bag lying next to Lisa's chair. Lisa leaned over and took a scrapbook out of it and placed it in her lap.

"I was certain Martin was having an affair. He never said anything and I never saw him with anyone, but I knew. One day I decided to search his things while he was at work to see if I could find proof. Instead, I found this."

Lisa tapped the cover of the scrapbook, then handed it across to Betsy.

Betsy placed the book in the center of her blotter. The cover was a faded brown with a gold trim. Betsy opened the scrapbook. On the first page, a plastic sheet, were clippings about the Hunter's Point case from the Hunter's Point paper, the New York Times, Newsday and other papers.

Betsy flipped through some of the other pages without reading the articles.

They were all about the Hunter's Point case.

"Did you ever ask Martin about this?" Betsy asked.

"No. I was too scared. I put it back. But I did do something. I hired a private detective to follow Martin and to find out about Hunter's Point."

"What's the detective's name?"

"Sam Oberhurst."

"Do you have an address and phone number where I can reach him?"

"I've got a phone number."

"No address?"

"I got his name from a friend who used him in her divorce. She gave me the number. It's an answering machine. We met at a restaurant."

"Where did you send your checks?"

"I always paid him in cash."

"Give me your friend's name and I'll have my investigator contact her if it's necessary."

"Her name is Peggy Fulton. Her divorce attorney was Gary Telford. He's the one who gave her the name.

I'd rather you didn't go to her, unless you have to."

"The lawyer's better," Betsy said as she pulled a sheet of paper out of her drawer and filled in several blanks. "This is a release of information form giving me or my investigator the — right to see Oberhurst's files."

While Lisa read the form, Betsy told Ann to have Reggie Stewart come to her office immediately. Lisa signed the release and handed it back to Betsy.

"What did Oberhurst tell you?"

"He was certain Martin was cheating, but he didn't have a name yet."

"And Hunter's Point?"

"He told me he hadn't started working on that aspect of the investigation."

Lisa's story had affected Betsy deeply. The thought of Darius treating his wife like an animal disgusted her and Lisa's description made Betsy physically ill. But it did not mean Darius was a murderer, and she was still his attorney.

"Why did you come to me, Lisa?"

"I don't know. I'm so confused by everything. You seemed so understanding at the house and I knew how hard you fought for Andrea Hammermill and the Peterson woman. I hoped you could tell me what to do."

"Do you plan to tell the district attorney what you've told me or to give him this book?"

Lisa looked startled. "No. Why would I do that?"

"To hurt Martin."

"No. I don't want to… I still love him. Or, I… Mrs.

Tannenbaum, if Martin did those things… if he tortured and killed those women, I have to know."

Betsy leaned forward and looked directly into Lisa's moist green eyes.

"I'm Martin's lawyer, Lisa. My professional loyalty lies with him, even if he is guilty."

Lisa looked shocked. "You'd continue to defend him, even if he did that?"

Betsy nodded. "But he may not have, Lisa, and what you've told me could be very important. If Oberhurst was following Martin on a date when one of those women disappeared, he could provide Martin with an alibi. Page is going to argue that the same man did all three women, and he probably did. All I have to do is show Martin didn't kill one of the victims and the d.a's case disappears."

"I hadn't thought of that."

"When is the last time you talked to Oberhurst?"

"A few weeks ago. I left a few messages on his machine, but he didn't return my calls."

"I'll have my investigator contact Oberhurst. Can I hold on to the scrapbook?"

Lisa nodded. Betsy walked around the desk and laid a hand on Lisa's shoulder.

"Thank you for confiding in me. I know how hard it must have been."

"I had to tell someone," Lisa whispered. "I've kept it in so long."

"I have a friend who might help you. Alice Knowland. She's very nice and very compassionate. I've sent other women with similar problems to her and she's helped some of them."

"What is she, a doctor?"

"A psychiatrist. But don't let that scare you off. Psychiatrist is just a fancy title for a good listener with experience in helping troubled people. She might be good for you. You could go to her a few times, then stop if she isn't helping. Think it over and give me a call."

"I will," Lisa said, standing. "And thank you for listening."

"You're not alone, Lisa. Remember that."

Betsy put her arms around Lisa and hugged her.

"Martin will be home late tonight. Will you stay with him?" Betsy asked.

"I can't. I'm living with my father until I decide what to do."

"Okay."

"Don't tell Martin I came, please."