Perry Mason

The Case of Sampson and Delilah

By Lucky_Ladybug

Notes: The characters are not mine (except the receptionist and Chamberlin's family) and the story is! Miles Edgeworth is the character from the Phoenix Wright games. Since the American dub of the games localizes the setting from Japan to Los Angeles, it was just too tempting to make Miles one of Hamilton's deputies. I always set my Perry stories in the present-day, since Perry doesn't have to be a period piece, but I think there's only one brief reference to that here (aside from Miles' presence). This is just a wacky bit of nonsense that came to me when I was half-asleep, randomly thought of the title, and started giggling. And as bizarre as Chamberlin's problems are, I have to say that they are all plausible and I have unfortunately experienced every one of them (except the wall).

Hamilton Burger was somewhat bewildered when he came through the front door at work and found a large bouquet of flowers on the receptionist's desk. "What's this?" he blinked.

"Search me," Sandy, the receptionist, shrugged. "A deliveryman brought them practically at the crack of dawn, when I was just coming in. They're not for me, either." She smirked a bit. "I'm kind of jealous."

Hamilton reached for the card. "To Sampson from Delilah, with love?!" he read in utter and complete disbelief.

Sandy snarked. "Yep, a girl sending the guy flowers. And I guess she thought the name thing was so hilarious she had to make use of it."

"Oh, for the love of . . ." Hamilton set the card back down. "Delilah Larson is that jewel thief Sampson is prosecuting. She's actually trying to win him over by flirting!"

"I don't think she'll get much of anywhere," Sandy said mischievously. "We all know that Deputy Sampson can't be bought."

"Yes, but I wonder how long it will take her to get the picture," Hamilton sighed. "I'm guessing Sampson hasn't come in yet?"

"No, he hasn't. But if he doesn't want the flowers, I'll take them," Sandy grinned. "They look nice here."

"I'm sure he won't want them," Hamilton said. "We both know they're a bribe."

"And Heaven forbid the great Gregory Sampson to accept a bribe, even of flowers," Sandy promptly rejoined.

Hamilton tried not to look amused. "I know he seems extreme sometimes, and I'll admit he needs to soften his approach with some of the witnesses, but I'd rather have him be like that instead of the type that can be bought."

"I'm sure we all feel that way," Sandy said. "But that doesn't mean I won't keep ribbing him about being our resident windmill-chaser. Oh, by the way . . ." She handed Hamilton an index card. "Mr. Chamberlin called in and sounded very stressed. He said to tell you he might be late today."

"What?!" Hamilton accepted the card and stared at it in surprise and alarm. It did not give any indication of why Victor Chamberlin might be held up. "He prosecutes in court today! He can't be late!"

"Then you'd better call him, Sir," Sandy said.

"I'm certainly going to!" Hamilton declared. He hurried down the hall, his overcoat on his arm and the card in his hand. Ignoring the coat rack, he tossed the garment on the couch and quickly went to his desk, setting the card down as he picked up the phone and began to dial Mr. Chamberlin's home number.

"Mr. Burger?" That was Deputy Edgeworth in the doorway. "Why is there a large bouquet of flowers out front for Mr. Sampson?"

"Ask Sandy," Hamilton shot back, very occupied. "Hello, Vic?"

It sounded like someone said Hello on the other end of the line, but with all the bedlam of screaming kids, an unattended vacuum cleaner, and what sounded like a very weird, very deep, almost elephantine trumpeting, Hamilton really wasn't sure at all.

"Mr. Burger! I'm so sorry." A door slammed in the background. "I have to go in the closet to talk to you."

"Vic, what in the name of Heaven is going on down there?!" Hamilton cried. "Is your wife opening a zoo?"

"It's the washing machine," Chamberlin groaned. "It had to pick today to go berserk. The bathtub already flooded over and Carol had to run off and see about that in the middle of the vacuuming. Betsy was taking over, but then Myron got stuck in the wall . . ."

"WHAT?!" Hamilton leaped up from the desk.

"We were going to remodel anyway, but now we're going to have to do it a lot faster," Chamberlin said. "The plaster was weak in one spot and he fell right through!"

"Is he alright?" Hamilton exclaimed.

"Yes, he's fine, and proudly saying he's going to talk about this at Show and Tell," Chamberlin said. "He took some of the plaster as proof."

"So why isn't Betsy back to doing the vacuuming?" Hamilton asked, scarcely able to believe he was having this conversation.

"She's sweeping up the pieces of plaster too big to fit in the vacuum," Chamberlin said. "I was just going to take over the vacuuming when the washer went crazy. Then you called."

Hamilton rubbed his forehead, overwhelmed. "Chamberlin, I'm sorry about your house problems, but you know you're prosecuting a murder case today. We can't afford a continuance! If the defense attorney thinks no one's coming . . ."

"I know!" Chamberlin interrupted. "Mr. Burger, I'm going to try to get there on time. Carol can wait for the repairman. But I have to get downstairs and turn the washer off."

Now it sounded like something heavy was very loudly rocking back and forth on a concrete surface. Hamilton winced. "Yes, you'd better do that."

"Is there anyone available who can fill in if I'm late?" Chamberlin asked. He opened the closet door and suddenly the sound was all the more audible.

"You were taking Bill Vincent as your assistant," Hamilton said. "I don't like the thought of him taking over for you, though. He's still much too impetuous. This is too important a case to entrust to Bill yet." He pulled his day-planner over and glanced over that day's events. "I might be able to do it, but only if you get here before eleven. I have a case then."

"With Perry Mason defending, I remember." Chamberlin rushed downstairs with the cordless phone, the horrid sound growing louder and louder. "I'll do my best to get there by then. Oh no!"

Hamilton could not mistake the splash. "Now what?!" he all but wailed.

"The washer flooded over too," Chamberlin said in disgust. "The entire laundry room is submerged!"

"And it sounds like the washer is still rocking," Hamilton said, holding the phone away from his ear.

"It is. Excuse me, Mr. Burger." Chamberlin set the phone down and ran over to the washing machine. After what sounded like several failed tries as the appliance leaped away from him, a loud metallic thump echoed over the phone and the noise stopped at last.

Hamilton was still tense. "Hello? Vic, what happened?"

More splashing. "I'm sorry it took so long," Chamberlin said. "I finally had to throw myself on top of the washing machine to reach the knob and shut it off."

"Are you hurt?" Hamilton frowned.

"I'm alright. It's the room that's a disaster." Chamberlin sighed. "I'll try to clean up and get over there within thirty minutes. If nothing else happens, I might make it."

"Alright, I'll let you go. But Vic, try to make it," Hamilton pleaded.

"I will," Chamberlin said. "Believe me, Mr. Burger, I don't want to miss this case either."

Hamilton hung up, rubbing his forehead. It seemed like this day was destined to go wacky, for all of them. It wasn't even nine yet. At this point, he was scared to know what else might happen.

"Mr. Burger!"

Hamilton jumped a mile. "What is it, Sampson?"

Deputy Gregory Sampson looked absolutely scandalized as he marched into Hamilton's office. "Mr. Edgeworth stopped me in the hall to ask about that bouquet of flowers. Ms. Clark found a key in it and Mr. Edgeworth wondered why!"

That was a surprise to Hamilton. "What do you mean, a key?"

"It looks like a car key!" Sampson boomed. "If Mr. Edgeworth thought I would actually sanction such a blatant and obvious bribe . . . !"

That brought Hamilton up from the desk. "I should have known that wasn't just a bouquet," he exclaimed.

"I'm taking the whole thing right back to Miss Larson," Sampson fumed.

"If someone sees you there, they could completely get the wrong idea," Hamilton warned. "That might be what she had in mind. That bouquet is enormous; it could so easily look like you were giving it to her as a gift."

Sampson threw his hands in the air. "And the same thing could happen if she comes here and leaves with the flowers," he realized. "What am I going to do?!"

"Sandy likes the flowers," Hamilton said. "Why don't you let her keep them and focus on the key? That's obviously the main thing Miss Larson was trying to get to you. Send it back to her through the mail. It's better if you don't have any personal contact with her."

Sampson nodded and started to pace. "Especially since the newspapers have already been trying to create a scandal over her supposed interest in me," he said ruefully.

"Exactly." Hamilton slowly sat back down.

"Her trial doesn't even come up until next week," Sampson groaned. "She'll have plenty of time to torture me. Did you ever deal with something like this before, Sir?"

Hamilton softened. "Yes, I did," he said. "I think most public officials have been faced with bribes at some time during their careers."

Sampson sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. "How did you handle it?"

"I let them know I couldn't be bought. Sometimes I had to do it over and over. That's all you can really do, Greg . . . until you can gather enough proof to have them arrested for trying to bribe you."

Sampson sighed. "And right now, I certainly don't have that. I can't charge her because she sent flowers and a key. She could claim the flowers were a friendly gesture and the key fell in by accident."

Hamilton nodded. "How about what you are trying her for? How much evidence do you have on that?"

Sampson perked up a bit. "I think there's a good chance of winning the case," he said. "I'm sure the defense attorney will try to twist the facts and cast doubt, but the proof of her crimes is nearly insurmountable."

"Nearly is the key word," Hamilton said. "Never underestimate what the defense can do with a nearly."

"I know." Sampson stood. "Well, I have to be in court in thirty minutes. Thank you for your time, Mr. Burger. I'm going to mail the key back to Miss Larson right now."

"Good luck," Hamilton said.

"Oh, by the way . . ." Sampson paused in the doorway and looked back. "Where's Victor? Shouldn't he be here by now?"

Hamilton sighed, heavily. "Yes, he should. Unfortunately, I don't know if he's going to be able to make it in. I may have to try to pinch-hit for him in court."

Sampson's brow furrowed. "What's wrong? He's never been late before."

"He's also never had so many house problems at once before," Hamilton said. "Basically, it sounds like the plumbing in the house is having a nervous breakdown."

"That's terrible," Sampson declared. "After work, I'll have to see if I can help."

"You're familiar with plumbing?" Hamilton asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, but I could help clean up whatever's happened because of it," Sampson said. "I'm sure they could use an extra pair of hands."

"I'm sure they could too, especially a friend's," Hamilton said.

Sampson smiled as he turned and walked out.

Hamilton glanced at the clock and then stood from his desk again. He had better quickly refresh his memory on Chamberlin's case. It looked like he would indeed have to take over in court.

xxxx

Five minutes later he was studying the evidence in Chamberlin's office when Sandy came to the door. "Mr. Burger? Mr. Chamberlin's on the phone again."

"Thank you, Sandy," Hamilton replied. "I'll take it here." He picked up the phone and pressed the button for the correct line. "Vic?"

"Mr. Burger, I'm afraid I'm going to be late," Chamberlin said, and Hamilton really wasn't surprised.

"Did something else happen?" Hamilton asked, trying not to sigh.

"Well, as Susie put it, the kitchen sink exploded," Chamberlin said, and definitely did sigh.

Hamilton's jaw dropped. "What on Earth is going on at your house?!"

"I think it's all connected," Chamberlin said. "It's an older house and the person who built it tried to put in the plumbing himself. We've suspected for some time that he really didn't know what he was doing. My guess is that there's some terrible mix-up in the pipes that overloaded some of them. That could account for the tub and the washer flooding over and the kitchen sink's pipes suddenly spurting water everywhere when I tried to shut off the water. Now the kitchen floor is submerged."

Hamilton slapped his forehead. "Don't worry about coming in today, Chamberlin," he said. "I'm looking over the evidence and I'll take over in court."

"But what about your appointment at eleven?" Chamberlin asked in dismay.

"I'll see if someone can take over for me," Hamilton said. "If your case doesn't go past lunchtime, I might be able to get back to mine in the afternoon."

"I'm very grateful, Mr. Burger," Chamberlin said, and the relief was evident in his voice. "But I'm sorry to put you and the office to so much trouble."

"It's not your fault your plumbing suddenly went bonkers," Hamilton said. "Just try to get it fixed as soon as you can. Oh, Sampson said he'd come by after work to try to help clean up."

"Tell him thanks," Chamberlin said. "I'm sure there'll still be plenty to do by then. And today or tomorrow we'll apparently have to go shopping for a new washer. The flooding over may have been because of the pipes, but the bizarre antics it was doing is what generally happens when a washing machine has had it."

"I've heard about them doing that," Hamilton said. "I've just been lucky enough to have never seen it happen."

"And hopefully you won't." Chamberlin paused. "I'd better let you go; you won't have any time to get to court. Thank you again." He hung up, leaving Hamilton to quickly finish going over the case material and shake his head in disbelief over the outlandish day.

xxxx

Chamberlin's case was complicated and twisted and was definitely not going to be finished by lunchtime. When court let out at noon, Hamilton hurried to the other courtroom to find Miles Edgeworth, who had been free to fill in on Hamilton's case. Hamilton had to weave past the stream of observers, witnesses, and reporters filing out of the room before he could slip in and make it over to the prosecutor's table. Luckily, Miles was still there, collecting everything back into his briefcase.

"How's it coming?" Hamilton queried.

Miles looked up. "Perry Mason is his usual cunning self," he reported. "He's already started to cast doubt on the matter of his client's guilt. He's also managed to discredit two prosecution witnesses." He looked like he wasn't sure whether to be annoyed or respectful of Perry's prowess.

"Well, Mason's in top form, as usual," Hamilton said.

"I haven't brought out all of our evidence yet," Miles said. "I've saved some of the most damning things. Ergo, we may still have a chance to bind Carla Davis over for trial."

"Good," Hamilton nodded. He hesitated. "You have a case this afternoon, don't you?"

"Yes." Miles frowned. "Are you still not free, Mr. Burger?"

"I already told Chamberlin not to worry about coming in," Hamilton said. "I guess there's a chance he might come anyway, but unless absolutely no one is free to handle this, I don't like to have to call him and ask him to come after all."

Miles nodded, thoughtfully. "Bill Vincent is available," he said.

Hamilton sighed. "The thing is, I just don't think Bill's ready for a case like this," he said. "I really didn't want any screw-ups on this one especially. It's too high-profile and the killing was so brutal."

"And Vincent might lose the case for us. I realize that, but I'm not sure we have another option." Miles finished gathering his papers and latched his briefcase shut.

"I'm not sure we do, either," Hamilton said. "Bill is probably going to have to either take this case or Chamberlin's. And I guess it should more likely be Chamberlin's, since he's been observing that one."

"What's happening about that Delilah Larson person?" Miles asked suddenly.

"As far as I know, Sampson mailed the key back to her," Hamilton said. "Who knows what she'll try next."

"I'm sure she won't give up," Miles said. "I once had a girl take me to dinner. I didn't realize at first, but later I found out she was a friend of someone I was prosecuting. I refused another date with her and she didn't give up, either. She was visiting in town and tried to trick me into going to her hotel room."

"That's exactly the sort of horror story Sampson doesn't need right now," Hamilton groaned. "I remember that case. Not only did she try to get you into a compromising position, she lied and said that you were making passes at her!"

"At least she didn't have enough evidence to back her up, since I didn't go into her room," Miles said. "But the press certainly had fun with the idea anyway."

"And Sampson is already afraid of more bad press." Looking around the now-empty courtroom, Hamilton headed for a side door. "Let's go out this way."

Miles followed. "It's not pleasant, but he's going to have to steel himself for it. I'm sure the papers won't give up for a while. They like any story that has the potential to make public officials look bad."

"Unfortunately." Hamilton pushed open the door and inwardly moaned to see reporters ready and waiting. They hadn't been fooled into thinking they had lost Miles in the crowd exiting through the main doors. Now they swarmed on the two prosecutors, microphones and notepads bared.

"Mr. Burger, isn't it true this was supposed to be your case? Why is Mr. Edgeworth prosecuting?"

"Why are you prosecuting a case that was Mr. Chamberlin's?"

"Is there tension and rivalry in the district attorney's office?"

"Mr. Edgeworth, what was it like to go up against Mr. Burger's ultimate nemesis, Perry Mason?"

Both men suddenly felt very overwhelmed. But then Hamilton, who was more used to the press, tried to gather together a smooth persona.

"There's no deep, dark secret behind all this, I'm happy to say," he said. "I'm only prosecuting Mr. Chamberlin's case while he takes care of some urgent personal matters that just came up. Mr. Edgeworth is filling in for me. And I should add, Mr. Mason is not my ultimate nemesis. That would be anyone trying to get away with breaking the law in Los Angeles County." He smiled good-naturedly.

"As to what it was like to face Mr. Mason in court," Miles said, finding his voice at last, "it was invigorating and challenging. But don't make the mistake of believing Mr. Mason has already won. There's a lot the district attorney's office hasn't revealed yet. Some of those elements will be unveiled after lunch. Which, I might add, we're running out of time to have. Thank you." He tried to politely make his way through the crowd, with Hamilton right behind. The reporters, still wanting more, shouted other questions and flung microphones at the retreating men.

It was a relief to finally escape into the elevator. "Well, that was different," Miles sighed.

"You'll get used to it," Hamilton said. "Although it's never fun when they start prying like that. Especially if some of what they're asking has some basis in truth."

Miles flushed. "You mean the trouble between me and Mr. Sampson."

Hamilton nodded. "Sampson was concerned that you believed he was alright with Delilah Larson trying to bribe him with a car."

"I'd know he wouldn't be the least bit alright with that," Miles objected. "Mr. Burger, I don't have anything against Sampson. We're both headstrong and we want our own ways. We can scarcely agree on anything. But we've tried to keep that confined to the office."

"I realize that, and I'm grateful," Hamilton said. "I wish it wasn't confined to anywhere, but it's better to be the office than anywhere else."

"I don't know if we'll ever really see eye-to-eye," Miles said.

"Maybe you won't," Hamilton agreed. "But then again, I never used to think Perry Mason would become a friend."

"It's really amazing, how the two of you get along now," Miles observed.

"We still have our differences," Hamilton hurried to add as the elevator stopped and they got out. "But we're better at being friends in spite of that. Maybe someday it will be the same for you and Sampson."

"Maybe," Miles said, but he didn't sound too hopeful.

"Think about it anyway," Hamilton encouraged.

"I will," Miles promised.

xxxx

The rest of the afternoon was just as hectic. Hamilton barely made it back to court in time due to the people in the restaurant being very slow about making lunch. He had agreed with Bill Vincent to allow him to take over Chamberlin's case while Hamilton handled his own case for the afternoon session. And while Hamilton was trying to keep his mind on what he was doing, he couldn't help worrying about Bill being in charge of any case. Hopefully he had matured beyond the last time he had attempted a solo case.

To Hamilton's exasperation, Perry continued to poke holes in the idea that Carla Davis had committed the vicious murder. It wasn't a surprise, really, but it wasn't making this weird day any more enjoyable. The only thing Hamilton could say for it was that at least something was going predictably. By the afternoon's end, Hamilton had presented all of the state's evidence he was going to release for the hearing and Perry was preparing for a defense in the morning.

Hamilton wasn't sure what he expected when he went back to the office. It really wasn't Sampson screaming at the top of his lungs. "What on Earth is the matter with you?! Get out! GET OUT! And put something else on before you leave this building!"

Hamilton's jaw dropped. Hurrying to Sampson's open office door, he peered in and then couldn't stop staring.

Delilah Larson was stretched across Sampson's desk, smiling seductively at him. A thin yet billowing pink negligee adorned her shapely form. Sampson was practically having a conniption, leaping up and rushing to where she had left her coat on the floor. He grabbed it up and put it around her as she climbed down, regarding him hatefully.

"You'll regret this," she told him.

"Yes, I'm sure you plan to go right outside and tell someone that I invited you up here," Sampson fumed. "But you have no proof of that, and the security cameras in this building will reveal your lies."

"I wouldn't say anything at all if you would just drop all these silly charges," Delilah said, ignoring the warning about the cameras.

"Unfortunately for you, Miss Larson, those charges are all true," Sampson retorted. "They stand. Grand theft is not a parking ticket. And I wouldn't allow even a parking ticket to be dropped."

"I know," Delilah said in displeasure. "You're such a goody-two-shoes."

"I already mailed your key back to you," Sampson said stiffly. "You should receive it tomorrow."

"I wouldn't expect anything else." With that she stalked out of the office and past Hamilton to the elevator.

Hamilton shook his head as he stared after her. It was impossible not to think of the time when Vivalene had gotten into his house and laid across his bed, trying to tempt him in a similar manner. That had been the last straw for him as well; he had lost his temper as he had ordered her out. She had left in practically the same huff as Delilah, too, not even bothering to put on her shoes.

He had to wonder if that would be Delilah's next move. On the other hand, maybe she would leave Sampson alone now. But Hamilton had to admit that he rather doubted it.

"Can you believe her?!" Sampson cried, coming to the door as well. "This is outrageous! I came back from court and she was just there, like that!"

Hamilton shook his head. "She certainly doesn't have any shame."

"To put it mildly," Sampson fumed. He went back in his office, collecting his briefcase. "I'd better get over to Victor's house. I'm late as it is."

"Yes, you'd better," Hamilton said. "Hopefully nothing else has gone wrong in the meantime." With the day that poor family had been having, Hamilton cringed to think of anything else going wrong.

"I'm sorry for all the trouble, Mr. Burger," Sampson apologized as he hastened past.

"It's not your fault, Greg," Hamilton sighed. "There will always be people like Delilah Larson who will act up. Standing strong against them is the main defense we have."

Sampson paused. "You're right, Sir, and you're my main inspiration when it comes to standing strong."

Hamilton blinked in surprise. "Thank you, Greg. I'm glad I can be an inspiration for good."

"You are, every day," Sampson insisted. He went past and to the elevators.

Hamilton watched him go, smiling a bit to himself as he headed for his office. Maybe nothing else would go wrong today.

The telephone was ringing just as Hamilton got back inside. He hurried over, lifting the receiver. "Hello?"

"Mr. Burger?" It was Chamberlin. "I'm so sorry about not making it in to court. How did the case go?"

"It went well, Vic," Hamilton assured him. "I handled it in the morning and Bill Vincent took over for the afternoon. He managed to bind the defendant over for trial."

"Oh, that's wonderful," Chamberlin said in relief.

"How are things there?" Hamilton asked, half-dreading the answer.

"Well . . ." Chamberlin hesitated too long and Hamilton's stomach dropped. "It wasn't long after we mopped the kitchen floor that it started to bulge in several places. I peeled back the linoleum and discovered that whoever built the house put particleboard down and didn't use a sealant to make it moisture-resistant! Of all the idiotic things to do!"

Hamilton cringed. Particleboard was notorious for expanding when wet and making unseemly bulges. It was the worst possible thing to put down in rooms that used a lot of water. "What are you going to do?" Now he really was afraid to ask.

"I'll have to tear up the kitchen floor and put something else down," Chamberlin groaned. "At least for the section where the bulges are the worst."

Hamilton massaged his forehead. He was wrong; much more was going wrong. "Are you going to do that tonight?"

"I don't know how I could leave it like this," Chamberlin exclaimed. "It's dangerous! One bulge is two inches high!"

Hamilton exhaled. "Well, Sampson is on his way over now," he said. "Maybe the two of you can figure out how to do it quickly." He paused. "And if you still need help, I could come over too."

"Thank you, Mr. Burger." Chamberlin's voice was filled with audible relief. "I think Greg and I can handle it, but if we need someone else too, I'll remember your offer."

"Good luck," Hamilton said in all sincerity.

He hung up, shaking his head. This had been a weird, weird day. For Chamberlin and Sampson, it wasn't over yet. Maybe hopefully for him, it would settle down.

"Mr. Burger, what's this I hear about Delilah Larson daring to come in here in a nightgown?!" Miles cried from the doorway. "Do you know she deliberately tore it and left part of it in the entryway?!"

Hamilton slumped back. Then again, maybe not.

". . . I think we'd better watch Sampson's house," he said. "I have the feeling she really will try there next."

Miles blinked. "You and I are going to watch his house?"

"Oh, you don't have to," Hamilton said with a tired wave of his hand. "But if she does show up, I want to be there to catch her in the act."

"I'm sure Mr. Sampson would like to be part of that too," Miles said.

Hamilton nodded. "Depending on how long she waits to make her move, maybe he will be."

xxxx

Sampson had stopped at his home to change into clothing more fitting for dealing with house problems. He was more than a little surprised when he went back into his living room, prepared to leave, and saw Hamilton's car pulling up out front.

"Mr. Burger?" He hurried through the door and down the steps. "What is it?"

Hamilton looked to him as he got out of the car. "I'm afraid Delilah may be more like Vivalene than I even thought," he said.

"Excuse me?"

"She made a show of being wronged as she left and might end up coming here to try to make you look even worse," Hamilton said. "I could just be imagining things, but since Vivalene did it to me, it's always possible Delilah could do it to you."

"Well, I never!" Sampson was appalled and repulsed. "What are we going to do?"

"I thought we could just wait here a few minutes and see if I'm right," Hamilton said. "Or I can; I know you need to get over to Vic's."

"I do, but I don't want to step back and let that tigress come here," Sampson fumed. "I'll be happy to wait with you, Sir. It was very thoughtful of you to come."

Hamilton smiled a bit. "I can't stand by and let a possible scandal happen involving the district attorney's office."

It didn't take very long to wait. A white sports car drove up within five minutes and Delilah alighted, still in the nightgown and little else. As she stormed up the walkway and to the porch, she screamed Sampson's name in a voice that she knew very well would bring out all of the neighbors.

"Gregory!" she shrieked. "Gregory, you come out of there right now! We still have things to talk about. I'm going to sue you for the way you've been treating me!"

Sampson very nearly boiled over with rage. "Why, the audacity of that . . . !"

Hamilton laid a hand on his shoulder and stepped out from where he had been concealed behind a bush. "Well, Miss Larson, do you realize you could be arrested for indecent exposure? Not to mention disturbing the peace. Don't you have enough to deal with already?"

She spun to look at him. "Oh, Mr. Burger." Her eyes flashed. "You should know that your precious deputy has been making passes at me. He promised to get me off if I'd spend one memorable night with him, but when I went to his office, he insisted he said no such thing and ordered me out! Look—he even tore my dress!"

"I most certainly did not!" Sampson could not refrain from roaring as he followed Hamilton into the open.

"We have proof that it was actually you who tore your dress, on purpose, as you went out of the building," Hamilton said calmly. "You were caught on the security cameras. Now, are you sure you don't want to change your story, Miss Larson? If you don't, Sampson can also add defamation of character to the charges against you. Not to mention attempting to bribe a public official, which I happen to know he's already threatened you with."

Trying to force himself to calm down, Sampson said, "Grand theft isn't pleasant, but surely it's preferable to those. Of course, the bribery charge is already going into effect."

Delilah's eyes snapped with hate. "You don't have any proof of any of this! I'm the one being wronged and you're throwing it all on me!"

"You wronged yourself when you got into crime," Sampson said. "You're only making everything worse by trying to drag me down with you."

"I think trespassing would be another good charge," Hamilton said. "Don't you?"

"I do," Sampson agreed.

"Oh, what's the use?!" Delilah finally snarled. "You can't be bought, just like my friend said. I was stupid enough to think that you could and she was just inexperienced."

"Then you admit to all the shenanigans you've been pulling?" Hamilton asked.

"Yes, yes, yes!" Delilah held up the hem of her nightgown, giving it a furious swirl. "Let's just get it over with already; I'm tired of playing games."

"So are we," Sampson declared.

Both men watched with pleasure as Detective Toland of Robbery also emerged, having been called out by Miles Edgeworth, and read the fuming woman her rights.

"Of course, she'll be out on bail within the hour," Sampson sniffed, watching the police car drive away moments later.

"But at least now she's dug a much deeper hole for herself," Hamilton said. "I don't think you'll have any trouble at all getting a conviction."

"Thank you, Sir." Sampson smiled. "If you hadn't come over, I would have already left and she would have made all this horrible commotion and disturbed the neighbors without me able to defend myself. Who knows what damage she would have caused!"

"Well, now we don't have to worry about that," Hamilton said. "That's the most important thing. And say, you'd better get over to Chamberlin's place before it gets any later."

"I will," Sampson said. "Thank you again, Mr. Burger. You've come through for me again."

"You came through for me too, Greg," Hamilton said. "If you weren't so honest, you really might have fallen for her bribes."

"Thank God I'm not like that," Sampson exclaimed.

"I couldn't agree more," Hamilton said.

Hamilton smiled to himself as he walked back to his car. It was certainly strange and challenging, being over all of the assistant D.A.s in the county, but it was also rewarding. He was happy to impart what knowledge he had on to them and to witness their growth through the years.

He wouldn't trade that for anything.