Philip Margolin - Gone ,but not forgotten

Darius took another sip, then placed the cool glass to his forehead. He had given his dilemma a lot of thought while he was locked up in jail.

He was certain he knew what was coming next. He was free. The newspapers had printed judge Norwood's opinion that the evidence was not strong enough to convict him. That meant someone else would have to die.

Darius looked at his watch. It was almost ten. Lisa would be up. Getting through to her was the problem. At the jail only collect calls were permitted. justice Ryder had refused every one he made. Darius dialed the judge's number.

"Ryder residence," a deep voice answered after three rings.

"Please put my wife on the phone, judge."

"She doesn't want to talk to you, Martin."

"I want to hear that from her lips."

"I'm afraid that's not possible."

"I'm out now and I don't have to put up with your interference. Lisa is my wife. If she says she doesn't want to talk to me, I'll accept that, but I want to hear it from her."

"Let me talk to him, Dad," Lisa said in the background. The judge must have covered the receiver, because Darius could hear only a muffled argument. Then Lisa was on the phone.

"I don't want you to call me, Martin."

She sounded shaky. Darius imagined her trembling.

"Judge Norwood let me out because he didn't believe I was guilty, Lisa."

"He… he doesn't know everything I know."

"Lisa "I don't want to see you."

"Are you afraid?"

"Yes."

"Good. Stay afraid. There's something going on here you know nothing about." Darius heard an intake of breath and the judge asked Lisa if he was threatening her. "I don't want you to come home. It's too dangerous for you. But I don't want you staying at your father's house, either.

There isn't anywhere in Portland you'll be safe."

"What are you talking about"

"I want you to go away somewhere until I tell you to come back. If you're afraid of me, don't tell me where you go. I'll get in touch with you through your father."

"I don't understand. Why should I be afraid?"

Darius closed his eyes. "I can't tell you and you don't want to know.

Believe me when I say you are in great danger."

"What kind of danger?"

Lisa sounded panicky. justice Ryder snatched the phone from her hand.

"That's it, Darius. Get off this phone or I'll call judge Norwood personally and have you thrown back in jail."

"I'm trying to save Lisa's life and you're endangering it. It's imperative that…"

Ryder slammed the phone down. Darius listened to the dial tone. Ryder had — always been a pompous ass. Now his bullheadedness could cost Lisa her life. If Darius explained why, the judge would never believe him.

Hell, he'd use what Darius said to put him on Death Row.

Darius wished he could talk over his problem with Betsy Tannenbaum. She was very bright and she might come up with a solution, but he couldn't go to her either. She'd honor the attorney-client privilege, but she would drop him as a client and he needed her.

Darius had not seen the moon all the time he was in jail. He looked for it now, but it was obscured by clouds.

He wondered what phase the moon was in. He hoped it was not full. That brought out the crazies. He should know. Martin shivered, but not from the cold. Right now, he was the only one who was not in danger, but that could change at any moment. Darius did not want to admit it, but he was sane.

Gary Telford had the smile and bright eyes of a young man, but his flabby body and receding hairline made him look middle-aged. He shared a suite of offices with six other lawyers in one of the thirty-story glass boxes that had sprung up in downtown Portland during the past twenty years. Telford's office had a view of the Willamette River. On clear days he could see several mountains in the Cascade range, including majestic Mount Hood and Mount St. Helens, an active volcano that had erupted in the early eighties. Today, low-lying clouds owned the sky and it was hard to see the east side of the river in the fog.

"Thanks for seeing me," Betsy said as they shook hands.

"It's been too long," Gary said warmly. "Besides, I'm dying to know how I'm connected with this Darius business.

"When you represented Peggy Fulton in her divorce, did you use a p.i. named Sam Oberhurst?"

Telford stopped smiling. "Why do you want to know?"

"Lisa Darius suspected her husband was having an affair. She asked your client for advice and Peggy gave her Oberhurst's name. He was tailing Darius. I was hoping Oberhurst was conducting surveillance when one of the women disappeared and can give Darius an alibi."

"If Lisa Darius employed Oberhurst, why do you need to talk to me?"

"She doesn't have his address. just a phone number.

I've called it several times, but all I get is an answering machine. He hasn't returned my calls. I was hoping you'd have his office address."

Telford considered this information for a moment.

He looked uncomfortable. "I don't think Oberhurst has an office."

"What's he do, work out of his home?"

"I guess. We always met here."

"What about bills? Where did you send his checks?"

"Cash. He wanted cash. Up front."

"Sounds a little unusual."

"yeah. Well, he's a little unusual." Telford paused.

"Look, I'll try to help you find Oberhurst, but there's something you need to know. Some of the stuff he does isn't on the up-and-up. You follow me?"

"I'm not sure I do."

Telford leaned forward conspiratorially. "Say you want to find out what someone says when they think the conversation is private, you hire Oberhurst. See what I mean?"

"Electronics?"

Telford nodded. "Phones, rooms. He hinted he's not above a little b. and e. And the guy's got a record for it. I think he did penitentiary time down south somewhere for burglary."

Sounds pretty unsavory."

"Yeah. I didn't like him. I only used him that one time and I'm sorry I did."

"Why?" Telford tapped his fingers on his desk. Betsy let him decide what he wanted to say.

"Can we keep this confidential?"

Betsy nodded.

"what Peg wanted… Well, she was a little hysterical. Didn't take the divorce well. Anyway, I was sort of like a middleman with this. She said she wanted someone to do something, a private investigator who wouldn't ask too many questions. I hooked them up and paid him his money. I never really used him to work on the case.

"Anyway, someone beat up Mark Fulton about a week or so after I introduced Oberhurst to Peg. It was pretty bad from what I hear. The police thought it was a robbery."

"Why do you think different?"

"Oberhurst tried to shake me down. He came to my office a week after the beating. Showed me a newspaper article about it. He said he could keep me out of it for two thousand bucks.

"I told him to take a hike. I didn't know a goddamn thing about it. For all I knew, he could have been making the whole thing up. I mean, he reads the article, figures he can touch me for two grand and I won't squawk because the amount's not worth the risk."

"Weren't you afraid?"

"Damn straight. He's a big guy. He even looks like a gangster. He has a broken nose, talks tough. The whole bit. Only, I figured he was testing me. If I'd given in, he would have kept coming back. Besides, I didn't do anything wrong. Like I said, I only hooked them up."

"How do I get to Oberhurst?" Betsy asked.

"I got his name from Steve Wong at a party. Try him Say I told you to call."

Telford thumbed through a lawyer's directory and wrote Wong's number on the back of a business card.

"Thanks."

"Glad I could help. And be careful with Oberhurst, he's bad news."