"I see you brought a bodyguard," Darius said, studying Stewart carefully.
"Martin Darius meet Reggie Stewart, my investigator."
"You're only using one?" Darius asked, ignoring Reggie's outstretched hand. Stewart pulled his hand back slowly.
"Reggie is very good. I wouldn't have won "Hammermill' without him. If I think you need more investigators, you'll get them. Here's a copy of the indictment."
Darius took the paper and read it.
"Page is charging you several theories in the death of each person: personally killing a human being during the commission of the felony crime of kidnapping; torture killing; more than one victim. If he gets a conviction on any theory of Aggravated Murder, we go into a second, or penalty, phase of the trial. That's a second trial on the issue of punishment.
"In the penalty phase, the State has to convince the jurors that you committed the murder deliberately, that the victim's provocation, if any, did not mitigate the killing and that there's a probability that you'll be dangerous in the future. If the jurors answer 'yes' unanimously to these three questions, you'll be sentenced to death, unless there is some mitigating circumstance that convinces any juror that you should not get a death sentence.
"If any juror votes 'no' on any question, the jurors then decide on whether you get life without parole or life with a thirty-year minimum sentence. Any questions, so far?"
"Yes, Tannenbaum," Darius said, looking at her with an amused smile.
"Why are you wasting your time on an explanation of the penalty phase? I did not kidnap, torture or kill these women. I expect you to explain that to our jury."
"What about Hunter's Point?" Betsy asked. "That's going to play a huge part in your trial."
"A man named Henry Waters was the killer. He was shot trying to escape arrest. They found the body of one of his victims disemboweled in his basement. Everyone knew Waters was guilty and the case was closed."
"Then why is Page convinced you killed the Hunter's Point women?"
"I have no idea. I was a victim, for God's sake. I told you. Waters killed Sandy and Melody. I was part of the task force that investigated the killings."
"How did that happen?" Betsy asked, surprised.
"I volunteered. I was an excellent lawyer and I did a lot of criminal defense when I started out. I felt I could provide a unique insight into the criminal mind. The mayor agreed."
"Why didn't you set up a law practice in Oregon?"
Darius stopped smiling. "Why is that important?"
"It looks like you're trying to hide. So does dyeing your hair black."
"my wife and child were murdered, Tannenbaum. I found their bodies.
Those deaths were part of my old life.
When I moved here, it was my chance to start over. I didn't want to see my old face in the mirror, because I would remember bow Sandy and Melody looked beside me in old photographs. I didn't want to work at the same job, because there were too many associations between that job and my old life."
Darius leaned forward. He rested his elbows on the table and supported his bead on his lean fingers, massaging his forehead, as if he was trying to wipe away painful memories.
"I'm sorry if that sounds crazy, but I was a little crazy for a while.
I'd been so happy. Then that maniac Darius closed his eyes. Stewart studied him carefully. Betsy was right. Either the guy was a great actor or he was innocent.
"We'll need the old files from Hunter's Point," Betsy told Stewart.
"You'll probably have to go back there to talk to the detectives who worked the case. Page's theory falls apart if Martin didn't kill the Hunter's Point women."
Stewart nodded, then he leaned toward Darius.
"Who are your enemies, Mr. Darius? Who hates you enough to frame you for these murders?"
Darius shrugged. "I've made lots of enemies. There are those fools who are tying up the project where the bodies were found."
"Mr. Darius," Stewart said patiently, "with all due respect, you're not seriously suggesting a group dedicated to preserving historic buildings is responsible for framing you, are you?"
"They torched three of my condos."
"You don't see a difference between setting fire to an inanimate object and torturing three women to death?
We're looking for a monster here, Mr. Darius. Who do you know who has no conscience, no compassion, who thinks people are no more valuable than bugs and hates your guts?"
Betsy did not expect Darius to put up with Stewart's insolence, but he surprised her. Instead of getting mad, he leaned back in his chair, his brow furrowing in frustration as he tried to think of an answer to Stewart's question.
"What I say doesn't leave here, right?"
"Reggie is our agent. The attorney-client privilege applies to anything you tell him."
"Okay. One name comes to mind. There's a project in Southern Oregon I couldn't fund. The banks didn't trust my judgment. So I went to Manuel Ochoa. He's a man who doesn't do much but has lots of money. I never asked where it came from, but I've heard rumors."
"Are we talking Colombians, Mr. Darius? Cocaine, tar heroin?" Reggie asked.
"I don't know and I didn't want to. I asked for the money, he gave me the money. There were terms I agreed to that I'll have trouble meeting if I stay in jail. If Darius Construction defaults, Ochoa will make a lot of money."
"And druggies would snuff a woman or two without thinking twice,"
Stewart added.
"Does Ochoa know about Hunter's Point?" Betsy asked suddenly. "We're not just looking for a psychopath.
We're looking for a psychopath with intimate knowledge of your secret past."
"Good point," Stewart said. "Who knew about Hunter's Point besides you?"
Darius suddenly looked ill. He rested his elbows on the table again and let his head fall heavily into his open palms.
"That's the question I've been asking myself, Tannenbaum, ever since I realized I was being framed. But it's a question I can't answer. I've never told anyone in Portland about Hunter's Point. Never. But the person who's framing me knows -all about it, and I just don't know how that's possible."
"Coffee, black," Betsy told her secretary as she flew through the front door, "and get me a turkey, bacon and swiss from the Heathman Pub."
Betsy tossed her attache case on her desk and took a brief look at the mail and messages Ann had stacked in the center of the blotter. Betsy tossed the junk mail in the wastebasket, placed the important letters in her in-box and decided that none of the callers needed to be phoned immediately.
"The sandwich will be ready in fifteen minutes," Ann said as she put a cup of coffee on Betsy's desk.
"Great."
"How did the arraignment go?"
"A zoo. The courthouse was swarming with reporters. It was worse than "Hammermill." Ann left. Betsy sipped some coffee, then punched out the phone number of Dr. Raymond Keene, a former state medical examiner who was now in private practice.
When a defense attorney needed someone to check the m.e.'s results, they went to Dr. Keene.
"What ya got for me, Betsy?"
"Hi, Ray. I've got the Darius case."
"No kidding."
"No kidding. Three women and one man. All brutally tortured. I want to know everything about how they died and what was done to them before they died."
"Who did the autopsies?"
"Susan Gregg."
"She's competent. Is there some special reason you want her findings checked?"
"It's not so much her findings. The d.a. thinks Darius did this before, ten years ago, in Hunter's Point, New York. Six women were murdered there, as far as I can tell. There was a suspect in that case who was killed resisting arrest. Page doesn't believe the suspect was the murderer. When we get the Hunter's Point autopsy reports, I want you to compare the cases to see if there is a similar m.o."
"Sounds interesting. Did Page clear it?"
"I asked him after the arraignment."
"I'll call Sue and see if I can get over to the morgue this afternoon."