"There's the Lakeview. We keep out-of-town witnesses there. I can drive you.
"No, don't. I'll take a cab. Can you call one for me?"
"Sure. My phone book is in my bedroom. I'll be right out."
"I'll leave you the fingerprint card, the photograph and the newspaper clipping. I have copies," Gordon said as she gathered up the note.
"You're certain you don't want me to drive you? It's no trouble."
Gordon shook her bead. Page went into the bedroom and called for a cab.
When he returned to the living room, Gordon was slumped on the couch, her eyes closed.
"They'll be here in ten minutes," he said.
Gordon's eyes snapped open. She looked startled, as if she had drifted off for a few minutes and had been scared awake.
"It's been a long day," the detective said. She looked embarrassed.
"Jet lag," Page said to make conversation. "I hope you're right about Darius."
"I am right," Gordon answered, her features rigid. "I am one hundred percent right. You believe that, Mr. Page. The lives of a lot of women depend on it."
Chapter Seven.
Something was definitely wrong with Gordon's story. It was like a book with a great plot and a flat ending. And there were inconsistencies. The way Gordon told it, she, Grimsbo and Turner were dedicated detectives.
If they were convinced Lake murdered six women and framed Waters, how could they simply let the case go? And why would Lake suddenly leave a thriving practice and disappear, if he thought he was in the clear? Had he ever followed up on his romantic interest in Gordon? She hadn't mentioned any contact after the night of Waters's arrest. Finally, there was the question Page had forgotten to ask. What about the women? Gordon had not told him what happened to the missing women.
While he waited for someone in the Hunter's Point Detective Bureau to pick up the phone, Page listed these points on a yellow legal pad.
Rolling black storm clouds were coming in from the west. Page was awfully tired of the rain. Maybe these clouds would give him a break and float across the city before dropping their load. Maybe they would leave a space for the sun to shine through when they left.
"Roy Lenzer."
Page laid his pen down on the pad.
"Detective Lenzer, I'm Alan Page, the Multnomah County district attorney. That's in Portland, Oregon."
"What can I do for you?" Lenzer asked cordially.
"Do you have a detective in your department named Nancy Gordon?"
"Sure, but she's on vacation. Won't be back for a week or so."
"Can you describe her?"
Lenzer's description matched the woman who had visited Page's apartment.
Is there something I can help you with?" he asked.
"Maybe. We have an odd situation here. Three women have disappeared. In each case, we found a note in the bedroom pinned down by a rose.
Detective Gordon told me she was involved with an identical case in Hunter's Point, approximately ten years ago."
"It seems to me I heard something about the case, but I've only been on the force for five years. Moved here from Indiana. So I wouldn't be much help."
"What about Frank Grimsbo or Wayne Turner? They were the other detectives."
"There's no Grimsbo or Turner in the department now."
Page heard a rumble of thunder and looked out the window. A flag on the building across the way was snapping back and forth. It looked like it might rip off the pole.
"I don't suppose there's any chance I can get a copy of the file. The guy who was eventually arrested was Henry Waters "W-A-T-E-R-S?"
"Right. He was shot resisting. I think there were six dead women. One of them was named Patricia Cross.
Then there was Melody Lake, a young girl, and Sandra Lake, her mother. I don't remember the names of the others."
"If this happened ten years ago, the file is in storage.
I'll get on it and let you know when I find it. What's your address and phone number?"
Page was telling them to Lenzer when Randy Highsmith, the chief criminal deputy, opened the door for William Tobias, the chief of police, and Ross Barrow, the detective in charge of the black rose case. Page motioned them into seats, then hung up.
"We may have a break in the case of the missing women, Page said. He started relating Gordon's version of the Hunter's Point case.
"Before the body was found at Waters's house, the chief suspect was Peter Lake, a husband of one of the victims," Page concluded. "There was enough circumstantial evidence to raise the possibility that Lake framed Waters. Shortly after the case was officially closed, Lake disappeared.
"Two days ago, Gordon received an anonymous note with the words' women in Portland, Oregon are "Gone, But Not Forgotten." The first letter in each word was capitalized, just the way our boy does it. Enclosed was a photograph of Martin Darius leaving a motel room. Martin Darius may be Peter Lake. Gordon thinks he's our killer."
"I know Martin Darius," Tobias said incredulously.
"Everyone knows Darius," Page said, "but how much do we know about him?"
Page pushed the photograph of Darius and the newspaper with lake's picture across the desk. Barrow, Tobias and Highsmith huddled over them.
"Boy," Highsmith said, shaking his head.
"I don't know, Al," Tobias said. "The news photo isn't that clear."
"Gordon left me Lake's prints for comparison. Can you run them, Ross?"
Barrow nodded and took the print card from Page.
"I'm having a hard time buying this," Tobias said.
"I'd like to talk to your detective."
"Let me call her in. I'd like you to hear her tell the story," Page said, not revealing his doubts, because he wanted them to have an open mind when they heard Gordon.
Page dialed the number for the Lakeview Motel. He asked to be connected with Gordon's room, then leaned back while the desk clerk rang it.
"She's not? Well, this is very important. Do you know when she left? I see. Okay, tell her to call Alan Page as soon as she gets back."
Page left his number and hung up. "She checked in last night around one, but she's not in now. It's possible she's having breakfast."
"What do you want to do, Al?" Highsmith asked.
"I'd like a twenty-four-hour surveillance on Darius, in case Gordon is right."
"I can do that," Barrow said.
"Make sure you use good people, Ross. I don't want Darius to suspect we're watching him.
"Randy, run a background check on Darius. I want his life story as quickly as you can get it."
Highsmith nodded.
"As soon as Gordon calls, I'll get back to you."
Highsmith led Tobias and Barrow out of the office and closed the door.
Page thought of dialing the Lakeview again, but it was too soon after the first call. He swiveled toward the window. It was pouring.
Why hadn't he spotted the flaws in Gordon's story last night? Was it Gordon? She seemed barely in control, on edge, as if electrical charges were coursing through her. He could not take his eyes off her when she talked.
It was not a physical attraction. Something else drew him to her. Her passion, her desperation. Now that she was out of sight, he could think more clearly. When she was near him, she created a disturbance in the field, like the lightning flashing over the river.
Betsy scanned the restaurant for single women as she followed the hostess between a row of tables. She noticed a tall, athletic woman wearing a bright yellow blouse and a navy blue suit seated in a booth against the wall, As Betsy drew near, the woman stood up.
"You must be Nora Sloane," Betsy said as they shook hands. Sloane's complexion was pale. So were her blue eyes. She wore her chestnut-colored hair short. Betsy noticed a few gray streaks, but she guessed they were about the same age.
"Thank you for meeting me, Mrs. Tannenbaum."
"It's Betsy and you're a good saleswoman. When you called this morning and mentioned a free lunch, you hooked me."
Sloane laughed. "I'm glad you're this easy, because a free lunch is about all you're going to get out of me. I'm writing this article on spec. I got the idea when I covered your suit against the anti-abortion protestors for the Arizona Republic.