"I know that," Page answered angrily. "But where do we search? His house? He's not going to be stupid enough to keep her there. Some property he owns?
Which one? I'm as frustrated as you are, but we have to be patient."
Highsmith was about to say something when the intercom buzzed.
"I know you didn't want to be disturbed," his secretary said, "but Nancy Gordon is on the line."
Page felt cold. Highsmith and Barrow straightened.
Page put the call on the speaker phone.
"Detective Gordon?"
"I'm sorry I disappeared on you, Mr. Page," a woman said. Page tried to remember what Gordon sounded like. He remembered a throaty quality to her voice, but their connection was bad and the woman's voice was distorted.
"Where are you?"
"I can't tell you that now," Gordon said. Page thought she sounded sluggish and uncertain.
"Have you read the news? Do you know Darius is out, because we didn't have your testimony at his bail hearing?"
"It couldn't be helped. You'll understand everything in a while."
"I'd like to understand it now, Detective. We have a situation here.
Darius's wife has disappeared."
"I know. That's why I'm calling. I know where she is and you have to act quickly."
Darius Construction was in trouble. When Darius was arrested, the company was on the verge of bringing in two lucrative projects. Both jobs were now with other construction companies and no new projects would appear while Darius was indictment. Darius had been counting on the income the projects would generate to help him with the company's financial problems. Without the new income, bankruptcy was a real possibility.
Darius spent the day closeted with his accountant, his attorney and his vice presidents working on a plan to save the company, but he had trouble keeping his mind on business. He needed Betsy Tannenbaum, and she had dropped him. At first he'd wanted her to represent him simply because he thought a feminist attorney would give him an edge with the jury. Then Betsy won the bail hearing and convinced him that she had the skills to save him.
Their recent meeting had increased his respect. Tannenbaum was tough.
Most women would have been too frightened to confront him alone. They would have brought a man for protection. Darius believed Betsy would never break the pressure of a trial and he knew she would fight to the end for a client in whom she believed.
When the meeting ended at six p.m. Darius drove home. He punched in the alarm code for his gate and it swung open with a metallic creak. Darius glanced in the rearview mirror. He saw the gleam of headlights as a car drove past the gate, then the driveway turned and he lost his angle.
Darius entered the house through the garage and deactivated the alarm.
The house was cool and quiet.
While Lisa was living with him, there was always an undercurrent of noise in the background. Darius was learning to live without the murmur of kitchen appliances, the muted chatter from the television and the sounds Lisa made passing from room to room.
The living room looked sterile when he turned on the light. Darius took off his jacket and tie and poured himself a scotch. He wondered if there was a way to talk Betsy into coming back. Her anger was evident, but anger could cool. It was her fear that was keeping Betsy from him. He could not blame her for thinking him a monster after what she learned from Colby. Normally a woman's fear would excite Darius, but Betsy's fear was driving her from him and he could not think of a way to allay it.
Darius draped his tie and jacket over his arm and walked upstairs to his bedroom. He had barely eaten all day and his stomach growled. He switched on the bedroom light and set his glass on his dresser. As he turned toward the closet, a flash of color caught his eye. There was a black rose on his pillow. Beneath the rose was a sheet of stationery.
Darius stared at the note. His stomach turned. He spun toward the doorway, but there was no one there. He strained for the slightest noise but heard only the normal house sounds.
Darius kept a gun in his dresser. He took it out. His heart was beating wildly. How could someone get into his house without setting off the alarm? Only he and Lisa knew the alarm code and… Darius froze. His mind made the logical connection and he headed for the basement, switching on the house lights as he went.
Darius paused at the top of the cellar stairs, knowing what he would see when he turned on the light. He heard the first siren when he was halfway down. He thought about going back, but he had to know. A police car skidded to a halt in front of the house as Darius reached the bottom of the stairs. He put his gun down, because he did not want to risk being shot. Besides, he would not need it. There was no one in the house with him. He knew that when he saw the way the body was arranged.
Lisa Darius lay on her back in the center of the basement. She was naked. Her stomach had been sliced open and her entrails poked through a gaping, bloodsoaked hole. The body of Patricia Cross had been left in Henry Waters's basement in exactly this way.
As soon as Rick and Kathy drove away, Betsy went back to the kitchen and fixed herself something to eat. She had toyed with the idea of going out for dinner or calling a friend, but the idea of spending a quiet night alone was too appealing.
When she was finished with dinner, Betsy went into the living room and glanced at the television listings.
Nothing looked interesting, so she settled into an easy chair with an Updike novel. She was just starting to get into it when the phone rang.
Betsy sighed and ran into the kitchen to answer it.
"Mrs. Tannenbaum?"
"Yes."
"This is Alan Page." He sounded angry. "I'm at Martin Darius's estate.
We've rearrested him."
"On what grounds?"
"He just murdered his wife."
"My God! What happened?"
"Your client gutted Lisa Darius in his basement."
"Oh, no."
"You did her a real favor when you convinced Norwood to release Darius on bail," Page said bitterly. "Your client wants to talk to you."
"Do you believe me now, Tannenbaum?" Darius asked. "Do you see what's going on?"
"Don't say anything. The police are listening, Martin. I'll see you in the morning."
"Then you're sticking with me?"
"I didn't say that."
"You've got to. Ask yourself how the police found out about Lisa and you'll know I'm innocent."
Was Darius really innocent? It didn't make sense that he would kill his wife and leave her body to decompose in his own basement. Betsy thought over what she knew about the Hunter's Point case. Betsy imagined Henry Waters answering the door, Nancy Gordon walking down the steps to Waters's basement, the shocked look on Waters's face when he saw Patricia Cross sprawled in her own blood, disemboweled. It was Patricia Cross all over again. Darius had asked her to find out how the police knew Lisa Darius was in his basement.
She tried to remember how the police had found out about Patricia Cross.
"Put Page back on," she told Darius.
"I don't want anyone talking to Darius," she told the district attorney.
"I wouldn't think of it," Page replied rudely.
"You're wasting your anger on me, Alan. I knew Lisa Darius better than you did. This hurts, believe me."
Page was silent for a moment. He sounded subdued when he spoke.
"You're right. I had no business biting your head off.
I'm as mad at myself for screwing up at the bail hearing as I am at you for doing such a good job. But he's staying in this time. Norwood won't make another mistake."
"Alan, how did you know you'd find Lisa's body in the basement?"
Betsy held her breath while Page decided if he would answer.
"Ah, you'll find out anyway. It was a tip."
"Who told you?"
"I can't tell you that, now."
A tip, just like the anonymous tip that led the Hunter's Point police to Henry Waters's basement. Betsy hung up the phone. Her doubts about Darius's guilt were starting to grow. Martin Darius had murdered the women in Hunter's Point, but was he innocent of the Portland murders?