Reardon sighed. "Go -ahead. Ask your questions."
"Thank you, sir. Can you tell me about Mrs. Reardon, or whatever she calls herself now?"
"I have no idea what her name is. She still called herself Reardon when I left Hunter's Point."
"When was that?"
About eight years ago. As soon as the divorce was final."
"What happened between you and your wife?"
"She was a surgical nurse at University Hospital.
Very beautiful, very wanton. Sex was what she was best at," Reardon said bitterly. "I was so caught up in her body that I was oblivious to what was going on around me. The most obvious problem was the stealing. She was arrested for shoplifting twice. Our lawyer kept the cases out of court and I paid off the stores. She was totally without remorse.
Treated the incidents like jokes, once she was in the clear.
"Then there was the spending. I was making good money, but we were in debt up to our ears. She drained my savings accounts, charged our credit cards to the limit. It took me four years after the divorce to get back on my feet. And you couldn't reason with her. I showed her the bills and drew up a budget. She'd get me in bed and I'd forget what I'd told her, or she'd throw a tantrum or lock me out of the bedroom. It was the worst three years of my life.
"Then she was kidnapped and tortured and she got worse. Whatever slender string kept her tethered to reality snapped during the time she was a prisoner. I can't even describe what she was like -after that. They kept her hospitalized for almost a year. She rarely spoke. She wouldn't let men near her.
"I should have known better, but I took her home after she was released.
I felt guilty because of what had happened. I know I couldn't have protected her-I was at the hospital when she was kidnapped-but, still, That's very common, that feeling."
"Oh, I know. But knowing something intellectually and dealing with it emotionally are two different things. I wish I had been wiser."
What happened -after she came home?"
"She wouldn't share a bedroom with me. When I was home, she would stay in her room. I have no idea what she did when I was at work. When she did speak, she was clearly irrational. She insisted that the man who kidnapped her was still at large. I showed her the newspaper articles about Waters's arrest and the shooting, but she said he wasn't the man.
She wanted a gun for protection. Of course I refused. She started accusing me of being in a conspiracy with the police. Then she tried to kill me. She stabbed me with a kitchen knife when I came home from the hospital. Fortunately a colleague was with me. She stabbed him too, but he hit Samantha and stunned her. We wrestled her to the floor. She was writhing and screeching about… She said I was trying to kill her It was very hard for me. I had to commit her. Then I decided to get out."
"I don't blame you. It looks like you went above and beyond the call."
"Yes, I did. But I still feel bad about deserting her, even though I know I had no choice."
"You said you committed her. Which hospital was that?"
"St. Jude's. It's a private psychiatric hospital near Hunter's Point. I moved and cut off contact with her completely. I know she was there for several years, but I believe she was released."
"Did Samantha try to contact you after she was released?"
"No. I dreaded the possibility, but it never happened."
"Would you happen to have a photo of Samantha?
There weren't any in the newspaper accounts."
"When I moved to Minnesota, I threw them away, along with everything else that might remind me of Samantha."
"Thank you for your time, Doctor. I'll try St. Jude's.
Maybe they have a line on your ex-wife."
"One other thing, Mr. Stewart. if you find Samantha, please don't tell her you talked with me or tell her where I am.
Randy Highsmith drove straight to the district attorney's office from the airport. He was feeling the effects of jet lag and wouldn't have minded going home, but he knew how badly Page wanted to hear what he had found out in Hunter's Point.
"It's not good, Al," Highsmith said as soon as they were sitting down.
"I was a day behind Darius's investigator everywhere I went, so he knows what we know."
"which is?"
"Nancy Gordon wasn't straight with you. Frank Grimsbo and Wayne Turner told me only Gordon considered Lake a serious suspect. She was fixated on him and never accepted Waters as the rose killer, but everyone else did.
"There's something else she didn't tell us. Three of the Hunter's Point women didn't die. Hazelton, Escalante and Reardon were found alive in an old farmhouse.
And, before you ask, Hazelton is dead, I haven't located Reardon and Escalante never saw the face of the man who abducted her."
"Why did she let me think all the Hunter's Point women were murdered?"
"I have no idea. All I know is that our case against Martin Darius is turning to shit."
"It doesn't make sense," Page said, more to himself than to Highsmith.
"Waters is dead. If he was the rose killer, who murdered the women we found at the construction site? It had to be someone who knew details about the Hunter's Point case that only the police knew.
That description only fits one person, Martin Darius."
"There is one other person it fits, Al," Highsmith said.
"Who?"
"Nancy Gordon."
"Are you crazy? She's a cop."
"What if she's crazy? What if she did it to frame Darius? Think about it. Would you have considered Darius a suspect if she didn't tell you he was Lake?"
"You're forgetting the anonymous letter that told her that the killer was in Portland."
"How do we know she didn't write it herself?"
"I don't believe it."
"Well, believe it or not, our case is disappearing. Oh, and there's a new wrinkle. A Portland private investigator named Sam Oberburst was looking into the Hunter's Point murders about a month before the first Portland disappearance."
"whom did he represent?"
"He didn't say and he didn't tell anyone why he was asking about the case, but I'm going to ask him. I have his phone number and I'll get the address through the phone company."
"Have they had any luck with the files?"
"None at all."
Page closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of his chair.
"I'm going to look like a fool, Randy. We'll have to dismiss. I should have listened to you and Ross. We never had a case. It was all in my head."
"Don't fold yet, Al. This p.i. could know something."
Page shook his head. He had aged since his divorce.
His energy had deserted him. For a while this case had recharged him, but Darius was slipping away and he would soon be a laughingstock in the legal community.
"We're going to lose this one, Randy. I can feel it.
Gordon was all we had and now it looks like we never had her."
"Hi, Mom," Betsy said, putting down her suitcase and hugging Rita Cohen.
"How was your flight? Have you had anything to eat?"
"The flight was fine and I ate on the plane."
"That's not food. You want me to fix you something?"
"Thanks, but I'm not hungry," Betsy said as she hung up her coat. "How was Kathy?"
"So-so. Rick took her to the movies on Saturday."
"How is he?" Betsy asked, hoping she sounded disinterested.
"The louse wouldn't look me in the eye the whole time he was here. He couldn't wait to escape."
"You weren't rude to him?"
"I didn't give him the time of day," Rita answered, pointing her nose in the air. Then she shook her head.
"Poor kid. Kathy was all excited when she left with him, but she was down in the dumps as soon as he dropped her off She moped around, picked at her food at dinner."
"Did anything else happen while I was gone?" Betsy asked, hoping there had been some good news.
"Nora Sloane came by, Sunday evening," Rita said, smiling mischievously.
"I told all."
"What did she ask about?"
"Your childhood, your cases. She was very good with Kathy."