Gone, But Not Forgotten Read online

  “Our next witness is Detective Richard Kassel,” Page told the judge.

  Richard Kassel sauntered down the aisle. He was dressed in a brown tweed sports coat, tan slacks, a white shirt and a bright yellow print tie. His shoes were polished and his black hair was styled. He had the smug look of a person who took himself too seriously.

  “Detective Kassel, how are you employed?”

  “I’m a detective with the Portland Police Bureau.”

  “Did you arrest the defendant yesterday evening?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Tell the judge how that came about.”

  Kassel swiveled toward the judge.

  “Detective Rittner and I received a call over the police radio. Based on that communication, I entered the grounds. The door to the defendant’s house was locked. We identified ourselves as police and demanded that the defendant open the door. He complied. Detective Rittner and I secured the defendant and waited for the other cars to arrive, as we had been ordered to do.”

  “Did other officers arrive soon after?”

  Kassel nodded. “About fifteen minutes after we arrived, you and Detective Barrow arrived, followed by several others.”

  Betsy’s brow furrowed. She checked something she had written during Justice Ryder’s testimony. Then she made some notes on her pad.

  “Did you discover the body?” Page asked.

  “No, sir. Our instructions were to stay with the defendant. The body was discovered by other officers.”

  “Did you give Mr. Darius his Miranda warnings?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Did Mr. Darius make any statements?”

  “Other than to ask to call his lawyer, no.”

  “Your witness, Mrs. Tannenbaum.”

  Betsy looked unsure of herself. She asked the judge for a minute and pretended to look through a police report while she worked through her thoughts.

  “Detective Kassel,” Betsy asked cautiously, “who told you to enter the Darius estate and arrest Mr. Darius?”

  “Detective Barrow.”

  “Did he say why you were to arrest Mr. Darius?”

  “Yes, ma’am. He said there was a tip that the defendant had killed his wife and her body was in his basement.”

  “Did Detective Barrow tell you who gave him the tip?”

  “I didn’t ask.”

  “How was Mr. Darius dressed when he opened the door for you?”

  “He was wearing a white shirt and pants.”

  “Mr. Darius, please stand up.”

  Darius stood.

  “Are these the pants?”

  Detective Kassel took a second to look at Darius. “Yeah. Those are the ones we arrested him in.”

  “And this is the white shirt?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s in the same condition as when you arrested him?”

  “Yes.”

  “There’s no blood on this shirt, is there?”

  Kassel paused, then answered, “No, ma’am.”

  “Did you view the body of Lisa Darius at any point?”

  “Yes.”

  “When it was still in the basement?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mrs. Darius was disemboweled, was she not?”

  “Yes.”

  “There was blood all over that basement, wasn’t there?”

  “Yes,” Kassel answered grudgingly.

  “The gate to the Darius estate is locked. How did you get in?”

  “Detective Barrow had the combination.”

  “How is it that you arrived at the Darius estate so far ahead of Detective Barrow, Mr. Page and the other officers?” Betsy asked with an easy smile that disguised the tension she was feeling. She would know if her suspicions were correct after a few more questions.

  “We were parked outside it.”

  “Was that by chance?”

  “No, ma’am. We had the defendant under surveillance.”

  “How long had you had him under surveillance?”

  “We’ve been surveilling him for quite a while. Back before his first arrest.”

  “Just you and Detective Rittner?”

  “Oh, no. There were three teams. We switched off. You can’t do that twenty-four hours.”

  “Of course not. When did your shift start on the day you arrested Mr. Darius?”

  “Around three in the afternoon.”

  “Where did you start?”

  “Outside his office.”

  “I assume you took over for another surveillance team?”

  “Right. Detectives Padovici and Kristol.”

  “When had they started?”

  “Around five in the morning.”

  “Where did they start?”

  “The defendant’s house.”

  “Why did the other team start so early?”

  “The defendant gets up around five-thirty and leaves for work around six-thirty. By getting there at five, we kept him covered when he left his place.”

  “Is that what Kristol and Padovici did.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I suppose they followed Mr. Darius to work?”

  “That’s what they said.”

  “Anything unusual happen that day, according to the detectives?”

  “No. He went right to work. I don’t think he ever left his office. Detective Padovici said it looked like he sent out for sandwiches at lunchtime. Around six a bunch of guys in suits left. I think they were having a meeting.”

  “When Mr. Darius left, you followed him home?”

  “Right.”

  “Was he ever out of your sight?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “How long after Mr. Darius arrived home did you receive the instructions from Detective Barrow to enter the Darius estate and arrest Mr. Darius?”

  “Not long.”

  “Give me your best guess.”

  “Uh, about fifteen, twenty minutes.”

  Betsy paused. She felt sick about asking the next series of questions, but her sense of duty, and the possibility that the answers could prove her client innocent, overcame her revulsion at the prospect of Martin Darius walking free.

  “Did you ever see Mr. Darius with Lisa Darius that day?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “What about Padovici and Kristol? Did they say they saw Mr. Darius with his wife?”

  Kassel frowned, as if he suddenly realized where Betsy’s questions were leading. Betsy looked to her left and saw Alan Page in an animated discussion with Randy Highsmith.

  “I can’t recall,” he answered hesitantly.

  “I assume you wrote a daily surveillance log listing any unusual occurrences?”

  “Yes.”

  “And the other members of the surveillance team also kept logs?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where are the logs?”

  “Detective Barrow has them.”

  Betsy stood. “Your Honor, I would like the logs produced and Detectives Kristol and Padovici made available for questioning. Justice Ryder testified that he last saw his daughter at seven-thirty a.m. Detective Kassel says Padovici and Kristol reported that Mr. Darius left his estate at six-thirty and went directly to work. If neither team saw Mr. Darius with his wife during the day, when did he kill her? We can produce the people who were with Mr. Darius yesterday. They’ll say he was in his office from about seven a.m. until a little after six p.m.”

  Judge Norwood looked troubled. Alan Page leaped to his feet.

  “This is nonsense, Judge. The surveillance was on Darius, not his wife. The body was in the basement. Mr. Darius was with the body.”

  “Your Honor,” Betsy said, “Mr. Darius could not have killed his wife before he got home, and he was only home for a short time when Detective Kassel arrived. The person who disemboweled Lisa Darius would have blood all over him. There was no blood on my client. Look at his white shirt and his pants.

  “I suggest that Mr. Darius is being set up. Someone was at Justice Ryder’s house h
aving coffee with Lisa Darius during the day. It wasn’t the defendant. Lisa Darius left the house without turning off the television. That’s because she was forced to leave. That person took her to the estate and murdered her in the basement, then phoned in the anonymous tip that led the police to the body.”

  “That’s absurd,” Page said. “Who is this mysterious person? I suppose you’ll suggest the mystery man also butchered the four people we found at your client’s construction site.”

  “Your Honor,” Betsy said, “ask yourself who knew the body of Lisa Darius was in Mr. Darius’s basement. Only the killer or someone who saw the murder. Is Mr. Page suggesting that Mr. Darius found his wife alive in his home, butchered her in the fifteen minutes or so between the time Detective Kassel lost sight of him and the time Detective Kassel arrested him, got no blood on his white shirt while disemboweling her and was such a good citizen that he reported himself to the police so they could arrest him for murder?”

  Judge Norwood looked troubled. Betsy and Alan Page watched him intently.

  “Mrs. Tannenbaum,” the judge said, “your theory depends on Mr. Darius leaving his estate at six-thirty and being in his office all day.”

  “Yes, Your Honor.”

  The judge turned to Alan Page. “I’m keeping Mr. Darius in jail over the weekend. I want you to give copies of the logs to Mrs. Tannenbaum and I want the detectives here Monday morning. I’ll tell you, Mr. Page, this business has me seriously concerned. You better have a good explanation for me. Right now, I can’t see how this man killed his wife.”

  Two

  “Goddamn it, Ross, how did this slip by you?”

  “I’m sorry, Al. I don’t review the log entries every day.”

  “If Darius didn’t go near Justice Ryder’s house, we have trouble, Al,” Randy Highsmith said.

  “The surveillance teams must have screwed up,” Page insisted. “She was there. She got into the basement somehow. Didn’t you tell me there were paths through the woods? The surveillance teams weren’t watching Lisa. She could have used the paths to sneak onto the estate while the teams were tailing Darius.”

  “Why would she go to the estate if she was terrified of Darius?” Highsmith asked.

  “He could have sweet-talked her over the phone,” Page said. “They were man and wife.”

  “Then why sneak in?” Highsmith asked. “Why not drive through the front gate and up to the front door? It’s her house. It makes no sense for her to sneak in if she was going back willingly.”

  “Maybe the press has been hounding her and she wanted to avoid reporters.”

  “I don’t buy that.”

  “There’s got to be a logical explanation,” Page answered, frustrated by the seeming impossibility of the situation.

  “There are a few other things that are nagging at me, Al,” Highsmith told his boss.

  “Let’s hear them,” Page said.

  “How did Nancy Gordon know where to find the body? Tannenbaum’s right. Darius couldn’t have killed Lisa at night, because she was alive in the morning. He couldn’t have killed her off the estate. We had him under surveillance every minute during the day. If Darius did it, he killed her in the house. There aren’t windows in the basement. How would anyone else know what was going on? There are problems with the case, Al. We have to face them.”

  Three

  “How was the meeting?”

  “Don’t ask,” Raymond Colby told his wife. “My head’s like putty. Help me with this tie. I’m all thumbs.”

  “Here. Let me,” Ellen said, untying the Windsor knot.

  “Can you fix me a drink? I’ll be in the den. I want to watch the late news.”

  Ellen pecked her husband on the cheek and walked toward the liquor cabinet. “Why don’t you just go to bed?”

  “Bruce Smith made some dumb comment on the highway bill. Wayne insists I hear it. It should be on toward the top of the news. Besides, I’m too wound up to go right to sleep.”

  Colby went into the den and turned on the news. Ellen came in and handed the senator his drink.

  “If this doesn’t relax you, we’ll think of something that will,” she said mischievously.

  Colby smiled. “What makes you think I have the energy for that kind of hanky-panky?”

  “A man who can’t rise to the occasion shouldn’t be on the Supreme Court.”

  Colby laughed. “You’ve become a pervert in your old age.”

  “And about time, too.”

  They both laughed, then Colby suddenly sobered. He pointed the remote control at the screen and turned up the volume.

  “… a startling new development in the case against millionaire builder Martin Darius, who is accused of the torture-murder of three women and one man in Portland, Oregon. A week ago Darius was released on bail when trial judge Patrick Norwood ruled that there was insufficient evidence to hold him. Yesterday evening, Darius was rearrested when police found the body of his wife, Lisa Darius, in the basement of the Darius mansion. A police spokesman said she had been tortured and killed in a manner similar to the other victims.

  “Today, in a court hearing, Betsy Tannenbaum, Darius’s attorney, argued that Darius was the victim of a frame-up after it was revealed that police surveillance teams followed Darius all day on the day his wife was murdered and never saw him with his wife. The hearing will resume Monday.

  “On a less serious note, Mayor Clinton Vance is reported to have …”

  Colby turned off the set and closed his eyes.

  “What’s wrong?” Ellen asked.

  “How would you feel if I was not confirmed by the Senate?”

  “That’s not possible.”

  Colby heard the uncertainty in his wife’s voice. He was so tired. “I have to make a decision. It concerns something I did when I was governor of New York. A secret that I thought would stay buried forever.”

  “What kind of secret?” Ellen asked hesitantly.

  Colby opened his eyes. He saw his wife’s concern and took her hand.

  “Not a secret about us, love. It concerns something I did ten years ago. A decision I had to make. A decision I would make again.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I’ll explain everything, then you tell me what I should do.”

  CHAPTER 25

  One

  Alan Page looked at the illuminated digital display on his alarm clock as he groped for the phone in the dark. It was four-fifteen.

  “Is this Alan Page, the district attorney for Multnomah County?” a man asked.

  “It is, and I’ll still be d.a. when the sun’s up.”

  “Sorry about that, but we have a three-hour time difference here and my flight leaves in thirty minutes.”

  “Who is this?” Page asked, awake enough to be annoyed.

  “My name is Wayne Turner. I’m Senator Raymond Colby’s administrative assistant. I used to be a detective with the Hunter’s Point Police Department. Nancy Gordon and I are good friends.”

  Page swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up.

  “You’ve got my attention. What’s this about?”

  “I’ll be at the Sheraton Airport Hotel by ten, your time. Senator Colby wants me to brief you.”

  “This concerns Darius?”

  “We knew him as Peter Lake. The senator wants you fully informed about certain matters you may not know.”

  “Such as?”

  “Not over the phone, Mr. Page.”

  “Is this going to help my case against Darius?”

  “My information will make a conviction certain.”

  “Can you give me a clue about what you’re going to say?”

  “Not over the phone,” Turner repeated, “and not to anyone but you.”

  “Randy Highsmith is my chief criminal deputy. You talked to him. Can I bring him along?”

  “Let me make myself clear, Mr. Page. Senator Colby is going as far out on a limb for you as someone in public life can go. My job is to see tha
t the limb doesn’t get sawed off. When Mr. Highsmith called, I gave him the runaround. You’re going to hear the things I did not want Mr. Highsmith to know. This is not by my choosing. It’s the senator who insisted I fly to Portland. It’s my job to do what he wants, but I’m going to protect him as much as I am able. So there will be no witnesses, no notes and you can expect to be patted down for a wire. You can also be assured that what you hear will be worth any inconvenience you suffered by being awakened before dawn. Now, I’ve got to make my flight, if you still want me to.”

  “Come on down, Mr. Turner. I’ll respect your wishes. See you at ten.”

  Page hung up and sat in the dark, wide-awake. What would Turner tell him? What possible connection was there between the President’s nominee to the United States Supreme Court and Martin Darius? Whatever it was, Turner thought it would guarantee Darius’s conviction, and that was what mattered. Darius would pay. Since the first bail hearing, the case seemed to be slipping away from him. Not even Lisa Darius’s tragic death had given the prosecution substance. Maybe Turner’s information would save him.

  ——

  Wayne Turner opened the door and let Alan Page into his hotel room. Turner was impeccably dressed in a three-piece suit. Page’s suit was wrinkled, his shoes unpolished. If anyone looked like he had just flown three thousand miles, it was Page.

  “Let’s get the striptease out of the way,” Turner said when the door was closed. Page took off his jacket. Turner patted him down expertly.

  “Satisfied?” Page asked.

  “Not one bit, Mr. Page. If I had my druthers, I’d be back in D.C. You want some coffee?”

  “Coffee would be nice.”

  There was a thermos on a coffee table and the remains of a sandwich. Turner poured for both of them.

  “Before I tell you a damn thing, we have to have some ground rules. There is an excellent chance that Senator Colby will not be confirmed if what I tell you is made public. I want your word that you will not call the senator or me as a witness in any court proceeding or make what I tell you available to anyone else—even members of your staff—unless it is absolutely necessary to secure the conviction of Martin Darius.”

  “Mr. Turner, I respect the senator. I want to see him on the Court. The fact that he’s willing to risk his nomination to give me this information reinforces the feelings I’ve had about his worth to this country. Believe me, I will do nothing to jeopardize his chances, if I can help it. But I want you to know, up front, this prosecution is in a lot of trouble. If I had to bet, I’d pick Martin Darius to walk, based on what I’ve got now.”