This was the first time his ragged thought processes had gotten him in trouble, but it had been only a matter of time. He wasn't sleeping, he wasn't eating right, he couldn't concentrate. Now, he was haunted by the ghost of a woman he had known for all of two hours.
Page settled down in front of his television in an alcoholic haze. The old movie he was watching was one he had seen many times before. He let the black and white images float across the screen without seeing them.
Did he order the arrest of Martin Darius to protect Nancy Gordon? Did he think he could keep them apart and rescue her? What sense did that make?
What sense did anything in his life make?
Martin Darius parked his Ferrari in front of his house. It was cold. The mist pressed against him when he stepped out of the car. After a week in jail, the chill, damp air felt good. Darius crossed over the bridge. The lights were out. He could barely see the placid pool water through the glass roof The rest of the house was also dark. He opened the front door and punched in the code that turned off the alarm.
Lisa was probably hiding from him at her father's house. He didn't care.
After a week crowded in with unwashed, frightened men in the stale air of the county correctional facility, a night alone would be a pleasure.
He would relish the quiet and bask in the luxury of soaping off the sour jail smell that had seeped into his pores.
There was a bar in the living room, and Darius fixed himself a drink. He flipped on the outside lights and watched the rain fall on the lawn through the picture window. He hated jail. He hated taking orders from fools and living with idiots. When he was practicing criminal law in Hunter's Point, he'd had only contempt for his clients. They were losers who were not equipped to succeed in the world, so they dealt with their problems through stealing or violence. A superior man controlled his environment and bent the will of others to him.
To Darius's way of thinking, there was only one reason to tolerate inferior minds. Someone had to do menial labor. Martin wondered what the world would be like if it was ruled by the strong, with the menial work done by a slave class selected from docile, mentally inferior men and women. The men could do the heavy work. The inferior women could be bred for beauty.
It was cold in the house. Darius shivered. He thought about the women.
Docile women, bred for beauty and subservience. They would make excellent pets. He imagined his female slaves instantly submitting to his commands. Of course, there would be disobedient slaves who would not do as they were told. Such women would have to be chastised.
Darius grew hard thinking about the women. It would have been easy to give in to the fantasy, to open his fly and relieve the delicious feeling of tension. But giving in would be a sign of weakness, so he opened his eyes and breathed deeply. The inferior man lived only in his fantasies, because he lacked willpower and imagination. The superior man made his fantasies a reality.
Darius took another sip, then placed the cool glass to his forehead. He had given his dilemma a lot of thought while he was locked up in jail.
He was certain he knew what was coming next. He was free. The newspapers had printed judge Norwood's opinion that the evidence was not strong enough to convict him. That meant someone else would have to die.
Darius looked at his watch. It was almost ten. Lisa would be up. Getting through to her was the problem. At the jail only collect calls were permitted. justice Ryder had refused every one he made. Darius dialed the judge's number.
"Ryder residence," a deep voice answered after three rings.
"Please put my wife on the phone, judge."
"She doesn't want to talk to you, Martin."
"I want to hear that from her lips."
"I'm afraid that's not possible."
"I'm out now and I don't have to put up with your interference. Lisa is my wife. If she says she doesn't want to talk to me, I'll accept that, but I want to hear it from her."
"Let me talk to him, Dad," Lisa said in the background. The judge must have covered the receiver, because Darius could hear only a muffled argument. Then Lisa was on the phone.
"I don't want you to call me, Martin."
She sounded shaky. Darius imagined her trembling.
"Judge Norwood let me out because he didn't believe I was guilty, Lisa."
"He… he doesn't know everything I know."
"Lisa "I don't want to see you."
"Are you afraid?"
"Yes."
"Good. Stay afraid. There's something going on here you know nothing about." Darius heard an intake of breath and the judge asked Lisa if he was threatening her. "I don't want you to come home. It's too dangerous for you. But I don't want you staying at your father's house, either.
There isn't anywhere in Portland you'll be safe."
"What are you talking about"
"I want you to go away somewhere until I tell you to come back. If you're afraid of me, don't tell me where you go. I'll get in touch with you through your father."
"I don't understand. Why should I be afraid?"
Darius closed his eyes. "I can't tell you and you don't want to know.
Believe me when I say you are in great danger."
"What kind of danger?"
Lisa sounded panicky. justice Ryder snatched the phone from her hand.
"That's it, Darius. Get off this phone or I'll call judge Norwood personally and have you thrown back in jail."
"I'm trying to save Lisa's life and you're endangering it. It's imperative that…"
Ryder slammed the phone down. Darius listened to the dial tone. Ryder had — always been a pompous ass. Now his bullheadedness could cost Lisa her life. If Darius explained why, the judge would never believe him.
Hell, he'd use what Darius said to put him on Death Row.
Darius wished he could talk over his problem with Betsy Tannenbaum. She was very bright and she might come up with a solution, but he couldn't go to her either. She'd honor the attorney-client privilege, but she would drop him as a client and he needed her.
Darius had not seen the moon all the time he was in jail. He looked for it now, but it was obscured by clouds.
He wondered what phase the moon was in. He hoped it was not full. That brought out the crazies. He should know. Martin shivered, but not from the cold. Right now, he was the only one who was not in danger, but that could change at any moment. Darius did not want to admit it, but he was sane.
Part Four
Chapter Fourteen
Gary Telford had the smile and bright eyes of a young man, but his flabby body and receding hairline made him look middle-aged. He shared a suite of offices with six other lawyers in one of the thirty-story glass boxes that had sprung up in downtown Portland during the past twenty years. Telford's office had a view of the Willamette River. On clear days he could see several mountains in the Cascade range, including majestic Mount Hood and Mount St. Helens, an active volcano that had erupted in the early eighties. Today, low-lying clouds owned the sky and it was hard to see the east side of the river in the fog.
"Thanks for seeing me," Betsy said as they shook hands.
"It's been too long," Gary said warmly. "Besides, I'm dying to know how I'm connected with this Darius business.
"When you represented Peggy Fulton in her divorce, did you use a p.i. named Sam Oberhurst?"
Telford stopped smiling. "Why do you want to know?"
"Lisa Darius suspected her husband was having an affair. She asked your client for advice and Peggy gave her Oberhurst's name. He was tailing Darius. I was hoping Oberhurst was conducting surveillance when one of the women disappeared and can give Darius an alibi."
"If Lisa Darius employed Oberhurst, why do you need to talk to me?"