Title: Missing moment for TCOT Desperate Daughter
Characters: Perry Mason and Della Street as in the episode
Rating: PG-13
A little "what might have happened" scene. This is for the crew on the yahoo group. Just before the amnesiac Doris Bannister stumbles into Perry Mason's office, Perry and Della are working on a brief. Perry, uncharacteristically has his tie off and shirt unbuttoned. What was happening before they started working on the brief? Hmmm……
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Perry Mason wondered why he had agreed to take on Albert Hudson's appeal – appellate work wasn't his forté. He'd been through the transcript and appendix three times and found nothing. The evidence was sufficient to prove guilt, the jury properly empanelled, and the trial conducted in the proper way. The only thing he grasped was the possibility of one piece of inadmissible witness testimony, and even that wasn't much. It amounted to no more than two sentences uttered by the witness. Perry Mason knew he would never persuade an appellate court that the testimony created error; fundamental or otherwise. His only hope, and Hudson's, was to have the trial court judge agree that a mistake had been made. Perry Mason would try one trick and pray that it worked, hope that the prosecutor was too over-worked to carefully read and respond to his motion, and then maybe, just maybe, it would delay Hudson's execution. It was too much to hope that he could secure a new trial for Hudson.
The prospect of a long night's work induced him to take Della Street out for dinner. She was always willing to stay late and work, but it never hurt to lubricate her willingness with a nice dinner and a glass of wine. Such was the case this evening. Dinner at The Garden was as delicious and relaxed as always. No wonder it was one of Della's favorite restaurants. It was nearly ten-fifteen when they arrived back at the office to begin the final drafting of the memorandum of points and authorities for Hudson's case.
"Do you think Judge Rothenberg will buy your argument for the writ of coram nobis?" Della Street asked. She reached for her steno pad.
"I don't know. Rothenberg's a smart judge despite being new to the bench. I'm not even sure I buy it," Perry Mason answered. He'd pondered using the coram nobis and knew it wasn't the best device to get Hudson's case back before a judge, but it seemed the only measure - a last ditch effort. He had come to the conclusion that Hudson was guilty and should pay for his crimes, but he still hated the whole idea of the death penalty. Still, it was the law and that was that. He dreaded writing this motion and memorandum; he just wanted to go home. He couldn't get his head in the right place to think about it. His mind was on Della Street. She was wearing that dress with the bow at the neck; the one that came open so easily exposing her throat for a string of dewy kisses, which was exactly what he was thinking about as she stood in front of him. He took the steno pad from her hands and placed it on his desk then pulled her to him. "I can't think about that right now," he said, his hands roaming over her back.
"Perry." Della pressed her hands flat against his chest. "After the brief."
"You're too distracting." He pressed his lips to hers then let them slip over her jaw and back to her ear, as he easily untied the bow of her dress. "And, far too pretty," he whispered. "How can a guy be expected to think about anything else?"
A shiver went up her spine at Perry's words. She slid her arms around his shoulders. "Perry," she said, half-questioning what they were doing and half sure of it.
"Just a little smooch, huh, Dellie?" His mouth was back on hers before she could respond and he teased her lips apart. Perry gave a low sigh when he felt her tongue against his. Della unbuttoned his suit jacket and pushed it off his shoulders and he eased it the rest of the way off. He took the opportunity to lead her over to the couch. As they eased against the cushions, he felt Della loosening his necktie and in a few second she had it off and was unbuttoning his shirt. When her hand made contact with his skin, he gave a low sigh. He relaxed against the cushions of the couch and Della relaxed against him. Long, slow kisses were shared between them and each felt the heat of passion rise as they feel under the spell of love.
"Perry," Della said several minutes later, "This is lovely, but I don't want to spend the whole night in this office. We still have to finish that brief."
He let her move away from him, "I know, I was hoping I could make you forget."
"I'm the one who's supposed to say that," Della let her hand trail down his chest. "Come on, the sooner we finish that brief the sooner we can get out of here." Della got up from the couch and went into the little bathroom off of Perry's office. When she came out, her hair, makeup, and clothes were perfect, Perry was pacing in front of the big glass windows. He had put his suit jacket back on.
"Is it cold in here or just me?" he asked her.
"It is chilly in here, now," Della answered. She retrieved her coat from her office and wrapped it around her shoulders, then took a seat and waited for Perry to begin dictating. She knew he usually paced while he thought out and dictated briefs. He said pacing helped him think. He walked to his desk and sorted through the first draft of the memorandum, then began revising the main arguments. It was several hours and re-writes later when Perry was finally pleased with the finished product.
"And, in People versus Bernard, three forty-seven U.S. reports, five-oh-six, the Supreme Court held that such testimony on the part of a witness was clearly inadmissible and grounds for reversal. In view of these authorities, we feel that the write of coram nobis should be granted," he said.
Della finished scribbling down the ending in shorthand then said, "And, if it isn't Mr. Hudson will go to the gas chamber Friday."
Perry gave Della a mildly perturbed look. Then they heard a sound from the outer office. "Well, if we were in England now I'd be able to say 'that must be the charwoman,'" Perry quipped.
Della looked at her watch, "It's only one-thirty, she doesn't get here 'til three."
