"The warrant seems okay, but I'd like to see the affidavit," Betsy said, asking for the document the police prepare to convince a judge that there is probable cause for the issuance of a warrant to search someone's house.
The affidavit would contain the factual basis for the suspicion that somewhere in the Darius mansion was evidence of a crime.
"Sorry, the affidavit's been sealed."
"Can you at least tell me why you're searching? I mean, what are the charges?"
"There aren't any charges yet."
"Let's not play games, Detective. You don't roust someone like Martin Darius without a reason."
"You're going to have to ask District Attorney Page about the case, Ms.
Tannenbaum. I've been told to refer all inquiries to him."
"Where can I reach him?"
"I'm afraid I don't know that. He's probably home, but I'm not authorized to give out that number."
"What kind of bullshit is this?" Darius asked angrily.
"Calm down, Mr. Darius," Betsy said. "The warrant is legal and he can search. There's nothing we can do now. If it turns out that the affidavit is faulty, we'll be able to suppress any evidence they find."
"Evidence of what?" Darius demanded. "They refuse to tell me what they're looking for."
"Martin," the woman in black said, laying a hand on his forearm, "let them search. Please. I want them out of here, and they're not going to leave until they're through."
Darius pulled his arm away. "Search the damn house," he told Barrow angrily, "but you'd better get yourself a good lawyer, because I'm going to sue your ass all over this state."
Detective Barrow walked away, the insults bouncing ineffectively off his broad back. just as he reached the steps leading out of the living room, a gray-haired man in a windbreaker entered the house.
"The tread on the BMW matches and there's a black Ferrari in the garage," Betsy heard him say. Barrow motioned to two uniforms who were standing in the entryway. They followed him back to Darius.
"Mr. Darius, I'm placing you under arrest for the murders of Wendy Reiser, Laura Farrar and Victoria Miller."
The color drained from Darius's face and the woman's hand flew to her mouth, as if she was going to be sick.
"You have the right to remain silent Barrow said, reading from a laminated card he had taken from his wallet.
"What the fuck is this?" Darius exploded.
"What is he talking about?" the woman asked Betsy.
"I have to inform you of these rights, Mr. Darius."
"I think we're entitled to an explanation, Detective Barrow," Betsy said.
"No, ma'am, you're not," Barrow responded. Then he finished reading Darius his Miranda rights.
"Now, Mr. Darius," Barrow went on, "I'm going to have to handcuff you.
This is procedure. We do it with everyone we arrest."
"You're not handcuffing anyone," Darius said, taking a step back.
"Mr. Darius, don't resist," Betsy said. "You can't do that, even if the arrest is illegal. Go with him. just don't say a thing.
"Detective Barrow, I want to accompany Mr. Darius to the station."
"That won't be possible. I assume you don't want him questioned, so we'll book him in as soon as we get downtown. I wouldn't go down to the jail until tomorrow morning. I can't guarantee when he'll finish the booking process.
"What's my bail?" Darius demanded.
"There isn't any for murder, Mr. Darius," Barrow answered calmly. "Ms.
Tannenbaum can ask for a bail hearing."
"What's he saying?" the woman asked in disbelief "May I talk with Mr.
Darius for a moment in private?" Betsy asked.
Barrow nodded. "You can go over there," he said, pointing to a corner of the living room away from the windows. Betsy led Darius to the corner.
The woman tried to follow, but Barrow told her she could not join them.
"What's this about no bail? I'm not sitting in some jail with a bunch of drug dealers and pimps."
"There's no automatic bail for murder or treason, Mr. Darius. It's in the Constitution. But there is a way to get a judge to set bail. I'll schedule a bail hearing as soon as possible and I'll see you first thing in the morning."
"I don't believe this."
"Believe it and listen to me. Anything you tell anyone will be used to convict you. I don't want you talking to a soul. Not the cops, not a cell mate. No one. There are snitches at the jail who'll trade you to beat their case and every guard will repeat every word you say to the da."
"Goddamn it, Tannenbaum. You get me out of this fast. I paid you to protect me. I'm not going to rot in jail."
Betsy saw Detective Barrow motion the two officers toward them.
"Remember, not a word," she said as Barrow reached them.
"Hands behind you, please," said one of the uniforms. Darius complied and the officer snapped on the Cuffs. The woman watched in wide-eyed disbelief "I'll expect you first thing in the morning," Darius said as they led him away.
"I'll be there."
Betsy felt a hand on her arm.
"Mrs. Tannenbaum… "It's Betsy."
"I'm Martin's wife, Lisa. What's happening? Why are they taking Martin away?"
Lisa Darius looked bewildered, but Betsy did not see any tears. She seemed more like a hostess whose party has been a stunning flop, than a wife whose husband had just been arrested for mass murder.
"You know as much as I do, Lisa. Did the police mention anything about why they were at your home?"
"They said… I can't believe what they said. They asked us about the three women who were found at Martin's construction site."
"That's right," Betsy said, suddenly remembering why the names Barrow had spoken sounded so familiar.
"Martin couldn't have had anything to do with that.
We know the Millers. They were out on our yacht this summer. This has to be a mistake."
"Mrs. Darius, Betsy and Lisa Darius looked toward the living room stairs. A black detective dressed in jeans and a black and red Portland Trail Blazers jacket was walking toward them.
"We're going to seize your BMW. May I have your key, please?" he asked politely, handing her a yellow carbon of a property receipt.
"Our car? Can they do this?" LISA asked Betsy.
"The warrant mentioned cars."
"Oh, God. Where will this end?"
"I'm afraid my men are going to have to search your house," the detective told her apologetically. "We'll try to be neat and put everything back that we don't take. If you like, you can come along with us."
"I can't. just be quick, please. I want you out of my house."
The detective was embarrassed. He looked down at the carpet as he walked off. Barrow had taken his raincoat with him, but there was a damp spot on the sofa where it had lain. Lisa Darius looked at the spot with distaste and sat as far from it as she could. Betsy sat next to her.
"How long is Martin going to be in jail?"
"That depends. The State has the burden of convincing the court that it's got a damn good case, if it wants to hold Martin without bail. I'll ask for an immediate hearing. If the State can't meet its burden, he'll be out quickly. If they meet it, he won't get out at all, unless we get a not guilty verdict."
"This is unbelievable." any idea something like this might happen?"
"What do you mean?"
"It's been my experience that the police usually don't act unless they have a pretty good case. They make mistakes, of course, but that's rarer than you'd think from the way they're portrayed on television. And your husband's no street punk. I can't imagine Alan Page rousting someone of Martin's stature in the community without some pretty strong evidence.
Especially on a charge like this."