"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."
"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 Twenty-five.
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 that 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."
Kathy insisted on eating at the Spaghetti Factory again.
There was the usual forty-five-minute wait and the service was slow.