The Case of the Mock Murder
Chapter 6
6.1
Robert laid on the bed, his hands behind his head and his fingers intertwined. His eyes were closed as he thought about Frank Rousseau. He could not possibly believe that he paid these thugs to beat him. The young Canadian had worked with him for a while now. It would not be long and he would have a degree in law enforcement. Frank had been instrumental in helping him. Why would he have him beaten?
Frank had become a close friend and his mentor. He had been hoping that there would be a full-time position in the Montreal police department when he completed school. If Frank thought he was behind the beatings then that job would be history. But more importantly who actually did hire those men to beat Frank and who was setting him up. Robert worried his father would lose faith in him and he needed him to help clear him and find out who was framing him.
He opened his eyes as he heard a knock on the bedroom door. "Come in."
The door opened as his father grabbed both sides of the doorframe and pulled his wheelchair into the room.
He immediately sat up upon Ironside's entrance. "Has Frank called?"
"No. He is not answering his phone either," the detective replied. He wheeled over to the bed. "Robert, someone is setting you up for the murder that is to be committed at the police convention. I don't have to tell you they are doing a good job."
"I am aware of it, Papa. I am painfully aware of it and there doesn't seem to be anything we can do about it."
Ironside didn't like the defeatist attitude his son was displaying. He decided it was necessary to give him an attitude adjustment. "So you are just going to throw in the towel?" He snarled.
Robert looked up sharply at his American father. "Papa, I have come to a decision. I am not going to attend the police convention. If I am not there both you and Frank should be safe from harm. They can't set me up if I am somewhere else."
Ironside stared at Robert. He shook his head. "I think you better forget being a cop."
The words stung as Robert asked, "Why? You don't think I have what it takes?"
"Not if you are going to throw in the towel the minute things get tough."
Robert looked down, unwilling to meet his father's eyes. "You are my inspiration for wanting to be a cop. Do you remember what you said to me in that tunnel after I cut that wire that released Barbara Jones from the bomb in San Francisco?"
Ironside nodded his head once. "Yes, I remember."
"You said I would make a good detective; that I had displayed good instincts when I told you which wire to cut."
"That is because you acted like a detective then. Now you are acting like a man who is beaten. A cop does not have the luxury of doubting himself let alone sit around and feel sorry for himself."
Robert met the deep blue eyes of the men he had learned was his father. "I am not feeling sorry for myself. I don't know how to fight this, Papa, and... I am scared."
Ironside soften his voice. "So am I."
Robert looked at his father with surprise. "You are? I did not think you were scared of anything."
"A cop is no good at all if he does not experience fear. Fear helps you to be cautious so that you don't go running into a situation as if you were some kind of super hero. There is nothing wrong with being afraid, Robert."
"Then you think I should attend the convention?"
"It is the best chance we have of catching this man. He is going to attempt to kill either Frank or me. You want to be a detective so you tell me, how would you go about framing yourself for murder?"
There was a knock on the door. Once again Robert called out, "Come in."
The door opened. Perry and Della walked in. "I hope we are not interrupting," Perry said.
"Robert and I were just discussing how he would go about setting himself up for murder."
"Perry and I were doing the same," Della said. She sat in a chair beside the bed as Perry sat on its arm. He pulled the schedule out of his pocket.
"Have the two of you checked the schedule of events for the convention?" He asked them.
"Perry noticed something very interesting," Della remarked.
Perry tried to hand the schedule to his brother but Ironside declined to take it. He turned to his son. I know exactly what you are talking about." He nodded to Perry and then to Robert indicating for him to give the schedule to his son. Perry did so.
Robert looked over the convention schedule. His eyes lit up. "They are going to surprise the officers with a mock shooting. That would be a perfect opportunity for our man to shoot Frank."
Ironside smiled slightly. "Now that is a logical piece of deduction."
"But the only way it would work is if Robert was the one doing the mock shooting," Della pointed out.
"Which is exactly why Robert is going to be the person doing the shooting," Perry said.
"What? That would be the final nail my coffin if he were able to put real bullets into the gun."
"That is not going to happen. We are going to keep very close track of that gun," Ironside said.
"Papa, you can't possibily expect me to go through with this?" Robert complained.
"Your father is right. We have to nail who is doing this before any murder takes place. If you can think of a better way than your father and I are all ears," Perry encouraged him.
Robert did not care for this plan at all but he had to admit to himself if he was not the one involved, he would agree with them. He had no choice but to trust his father and his uncle and what they were proposing. "No, I have no better suggestion. I do have a concern. Frank might think that I paid those goons to beat him up. If that is the case, he is not going to want me shooting at him regardless of it being a mock shooting."
"You let me handle Frank," Ironside said.
"Papa, what are the chances you could talk Lt. Tragg into demanding that all police come into the convention unarmed? I am a little nervous about shooting a gun even one containing blanks in a room full of armed cops."
Perry grinned. "I don't think he trust your law officers, Bob."
"Who could blame him, Perry," Della said. "I think I would be nervous too."
"I can't imagine Lt. Tragg allowing the guns either with a mock shooting planned. I will talk to him about it" Ironside assured them.
"I think we could all use some sleep," Perry suggested. "It does not appeared that Frank Rousseau is going to call us tonight."
Ironside was bothered by the lack of attention his friend had paid him. Frank had always returned his calls immediately. He could not imagine why he had not. It was now too late for Frank to call so he had no choice but to agree with his younger brother. He turned his chair around and headed for the door. "Goodnight Robert."
"Goodnight, Papa."
Perry and Della went out the door ahead of Ironside. Just before he was about to leave the room, Ironside stopped and turned his chair back to his son. "We will find out who is doing this."
"Papa, what is going to happen if Frank decides to press charges?"
"Then your uncle will represent you and there is no one better than he."
Robert nodded. "Goodnight, Papa."
Ironside smiled. "Goodnight, son." He turned and wheeled out of the room. He hoped he had gotten through to Robert.
6.2
Frank Rousseau stopped his rented car in front of Armand Dareau's home. He sat silently watching the house. He had just spent the better part of two hours going through newspapers reading articles on the French Canadian. Gilles Contraire had been correct. Dareau had invested a tremendous amount of time cultivating an image in Chicago.
He had become a multi-millionaire, supposedly through his investment company. Rousseau did not believe it at all. The man was still a thug regardless of what he portrayed himself to the public.
There had been dozens of huge donations to various charity organizations, mostly benefiting children. What a better way to get the public on his side then to appeal to the masses by spending money on their kids.
Frank had no doubt that whatever business he was doing in investments only appeared to be legal. He was sure Dareau was funneling money into the Revolution in Quebec. The terrorist organization seemed to have an unending supply of money to wage their reign of terror. He and Bob Ironside had only slowed them down. They certainly had not destroyed them.
Bob Ironside... he had known the man for over thirty years and considered him to be among his closest friends. He had been happy to find out that Robert was his son. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt him with news that his son was still part of the organization. That was why he had to be sure one way or the other.
He had treated the young man as if he was his own. He felt an obligation to look after the boy for Ironside. Robert had helped his father identify the the man behind the murders at a local hospital in San Francisco. He had been instrumental in helping to solve several crimes in Montreal. He also had helped his father find and disarm a nuclear bomb that had been set to explode in San Francisco. Why would he do all that if he were still part of the Revolution?
Frank shook his head. None of it made sense. Shouldn't he be giving Robert the benefit of the doubt instead of condemning him for something he really had no substantial proof that he was guilty of?
The front door to Dareau's house opened. A woman walked out, descended down the stairs and got into the automobile that was parked in the driveway. Frank watched as the vehicle sped down the street. That meant that Armand was alone. Rousseau knew that what he was about to do was wrong. He had never gone outside the law for information before. He had always been like his American friend. He believed in the justice system. But he had to find out if Robert had been playing him for a fool all this time. Frank had to find out if Dareau was lying to him.
Crossing the street, Rousseau went straight to the garage. He went around to the back and located the door that would allow him entrance inside. Using a pocket knife, he forced the door open by placing the knife between the door frame and the lock. Frank pointed his flashlight up and down the door frame searching for any indication that Dareau had the door wired with a home protection system. When he could not find any sensors, he continued into the garage.
Inside the house...
Dareau's smart phone began beeping. Armand looked at the screen. His alarm system was alerting him that someone had entered the garage. He smiled knowing exactly who it would be. He had some difficulty convincing his wife to take a night out with the girls. He did not want her to know what he was involved in. He had been certain Rousseau would show up tonight. His boys would have planted that seed of doubt about Robert Duvalier. He had depended on the detective not accepting Duvalier's involvement in his attack. Of course his fellow Canadian knew that he had been there and ordered the attack. But what he couldn't know would be rather Robert had actually sent that telegram or not.
Armand turned off the alarm notification on his smart phone and went back to watching television. There wasn't any reason to think that Rousseau would go any further then the garage itself. He would find exactly what he was looking for there. He could not believe how easy it had been to set this all up. The boss had been right. He only wished he could be in Los Angeles to witness Rousseau's murder. But he could not leave Chicago at this time. He was busy buying property for the revolution to wage war on the English. He smiled again as he turned up the sound on the television.
In the garage...
Frank shined his flashlight around. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He went over to the tool bench, opened each drawer and search them. He came up with nothing. There was not anything in the drawers but what you would expect to find. He wasn't even sure what he was looking for but he would know it if he found it.
When he finished with the bench, he again shined the flashlight around the garage. Armand must be doing extremely well for himself. The floor was an expensive tiling rather than the cement found in most garages. The walls were ceramic. He wondered why anybody would go to such trouble to spend this kind of money on a place to park a car.
After he completed his search of the garage, he looked toward the door that he knew would lead into the house. He pulled his gun out of the holster and prepared to confront Dareau. However, he stopped short of the door, turned around and looked at the car. He decided to check inside the vehicle. He really did not want to confront Dareau in his own home. He would not be able to justify his presence in this house to Gilles Contraire.
Opening the car door, he slid in behind the steering wheel. He opened the console beside the driver seat and searched inside. Pulling out some papers, he shined the flashlight on them. They were transfers of property into his name. He stuffed them back into the council and shut it.
Frank opened the glove compartment. He reached in and pulled out a large envelope. Shining the flashlight on the envelope, he opened it and removed its contents. He began reading what was an overseas bank statement. It was money transferred to Armand Dareau from an account in the name of Robert Duvalier. Using his smartphone, he took pictures of the document and then placed it back in the envelope. He shoved it back in the glove compartment and got out of the vehicle. He now had everything he needed to prove to Robert Ironside what his son had been up to.
He could not believe that he had been taken in by this young terrorist. He had honestly believed that Robert had turned down the right road. Instead he had been using him. Robert had access to literally everything in the police department. No doubt he had been using that information to help the Revolution. He wanted nothing more than to go to the police station in Chicago and file a complaint of assault against him. But he could not do that... at least not yet. He had to talk to Ironside. He owed it to him to do it face to face, not over the telephone.
He was finished here in Chicago. As much as he regretted what he had to do, he would now head for Los Angeles.
6.3
Della Street woke up in the arms of Perry Mason. His blue eyes peered down at her, a big smile on his face. "Good morning."
She reached up, ran her finger down the dimpled line in his cheek. "How long have you been awake?"
"For a while now," he answered her.
"Why didn't you wake me?"
Mason smiled down at her again. "Because I love to watch you sleep. Did you know that you are extra ordinarily beautiful when you are sleeping?"
"The one thing I have always loved about you, Counselor, is that you have a way with words."
"Of course I do. I am a lawyer. Words are my business. And I am extremely good with them," he grinned. "But that is not what I am best at. Would you like me to show you what I am best at?" Perry bent down and begin to kiss her.
Della smiled but gently pushed him back. "We can't do this, Perry. Your brother is in the next room and the walls are thin.
"You really did not pay attention to him when he said we had to behave ourselves, did you?"
"You were the one who wanted Robert and his son to stay here with us," she reminded him.
"Yes, but I didn't expect..."
Della smiled when he stopped speaking. "Didn't expect what?"
"Why is it that Bob completely takes over whenever he is with us?" he complained.
There was a knock on the door and Della chuckled. "I wonder who that could be?"
"That's funny, I don't have to wonder at all," Perry said in frustration. "Come in, Bob."
The door opened. Ironside placed his hands on both sides of the door frame and pulled his wheelchair over the threshold. "The day is being wasted," he said gruffly. "Why are you two not up and dressed?"
Perry looked at his older brother. He was clean shaven, not a hair out of place, and in a fresh suit. He was going to have to have a long talk with Katherine. Something had to keep that man in bed past five o'clock in the morning.
The door was pushed open and Robert entered the room. "Oh, excuse me. I just assumed since my father entered..." Red-faced, he turned and left the bedroom.
"Bob," Perry said jokingly, "Haven't you had that talk with your son about the birds and the bees?" Della started to laugh uncontrollably.
Ignoring his brother's remark the detective said, "You two get out of that bed and get dressed. We have a lot of work to do." Ironside turned his wheelchair around and left their bedroom.
Della rolled away from Perry and continued laughing. He watched her with a grin on his face. He liked nothing more than to see Della laugh.
"Are you sufficiently amused?" Perry said, still grinning.
"Sometimes Robert just does not know how to respond to you. He always acts like you never even said anything."
Perry threw back the covers and got out of bed. "That is because he doesn't want you to think you are getting the last word. Bob just can't handle somebody else getting the last word."
Della laughed again. "Get into the shower, Perry. I will set out your clothes."
He leaned over her. "We could save some time if..."
Della slipped away from him and out of the bed on the other side. "In the shower, Counselor." She pointed towards the bathroom.
"Killjoy!" he said and flashed her one last big grin before going into the bathroom.
6.4
Two days later...
"Of course the officers will not be allowed to carry guns into the convention hall," said an irritated Lieutenant Tragg. "Do you really think I would allow that after finding out they intend to do a mock shooting in front of all those policemen? The guy firing the blank shots would be filled full of holes instantly."
"How will you know that everyone turns in their weapons?" asked Perry.
"We will have them check their weapons at the door," Tragg snarled. " How else would we do it? Pass around a collection plate and have them put their guns on it?" he said sarcastically.
"We are going to need some armed officers," Ironside insisted.
"I will have Anderson and Holcomb there as well as myself," Tragg informed him.
"I want Ed and Eve out there as well," Ironside demanded.
Tragg preferred his own officers but he wasn't about to argue with Robert Ironside. He decided to give in to his demand. "Alright. They may carry weapons. That includes you as well," Tragg conceded.
"Someone needs to stay with Robert every minute," Perry said. "We can't take any chances that the bullets in the gun will be changed to live ammunition."
Tragg turned to Ironside. "I will leave that up to you. Assign either Ed or Eve to him."
"Arthur, have you heard from Frank Rousseau?" Della asked. "Robert has been unable to reach him for the past two days."
"Neither have I and believe me I have been calling him on a regular basis. He is one of our guest speakers and he has not confirmed that he will be here." Tragg addressed Robert. "He has not contacted you either?"
"No, Lieutenant. He has not," Robert replied.
Perry looked at his private detective who had been invited to this meeting. "Paul, maybe you better see if you can locate him."
"Alright, Perry. I will see what I can do. I'll call you as soon as I have something." Drake stood up to go when Perry stopped him.
"Just a minute, Paul." He looked back at Tragg. "It might be a good idea to have Paul armed at the convention as well. He could back up either Eve or Ed in covering Robert."
"Better yet, he should be the one covering Robert," said Ironside. "He's a good detective and that would free up both Ed and Eve to help keep an eye out for our shooter."
Tragg nodded in agreement. He looked over at Ed and Eve. "I will agree to that. Now I would like to talk to Perry and Chief Ironside alone."
Everyone but Perry and Robert filed out of the room. Perry waited for Tragg.
The lieutenant looked at the two men and said, "I did not want to question your judgment. But I have to say I think this is absolutely crazy. I do not even know why I have agreed to it. If Robert did indeed send those telegrams, he may find a way to get live ammunition into that gun. We could be setting up the murder of Frank Rousseau. I don't think we should go through with this with Robert being the one to fire the gun in the mock murder."
Perry decided to defer to his brother. Ironside looked up from his wheelchair. "I believe that our would-be killer is going to make an attempt to change the bullets to live ammunition. I also believe it is our best chance of catching this man in the act."
"And if Robert sent those telegrams? How will you be sure that he will not change the ammunition. You can't watch him every single second. A trip to the bathroom, a walk to the water fountain. How can you be so sure that he is not the shooter?"
"He's not," Ironside growled.
Tragg sat forward in his chair. "How can you be so sure? I know he is your son. But how well do you really know the lad? We know that he was part of the Revolution. How can you be so sure that he still is not part of it? Everything he is done up till now could have been to convince everyone that he left that behind. But what if he hasn't? Are you willing to bet Rousseau's life on it?"
Perry could see the anger rising in his brother. He decided to take over. " Lieutenant, can you think of a better way for whoever is doing this to commit the murder. These people want to punish Bob, Robert and Frank. They know the best way to get to Bob is through people he cares about. Both Bob and I believe that they are going to try to kill Frank using Robert. If we don't stop it here it will just happened somewhere else. If you have a better way of trapping this individual or people, now is the time to tell us. We are willing to listen."
"If and only if Robert is not part of this, then no I cannot think of a better way. I cannot help but point out to both of you that neither of you know this young man that well."
"I know him well enough to know that he is not capable of murder," Ironside said, raising his voice. "Nor is he any part of the Revolution."
Tragg sighed. "Alright, gentlemen. We will do it your way. But God help us if you are wrong. For if Frank Rousseau dies at the hand of Robert Duvalier, you know what I will have to do."
Perry looked over at his brother and then back at the lieutenant. "You will have to charge him with first degree murder.
6.5
The convention hall started filling with uniformed police officers from all over the country. Andy Anderson and Sergeant Holcomb stood at the entrance of the hall taking and tagging the guns of every officer entering. Some had heard that they would not be allowed to carry them into the convention hall, so they left them in their motel rooms. Those that did not were turning them over before entering.
In the convention hall...
Sergeant Ed Brown approached Officer Eve Whitfield. "I would have felt better if the chief had not allowed Robert to even be here."
"Sooner or later, whoever is doing this would find a way to get to Robert or Frank. Besides, I am NOT willing to sit back and wonder if and when they will come after the chief."
Ed nodded. "I know but this entire setup makes me nervous."
Eve smiled. "You are not alone. Let's just keep our eyes open for trouble."
Mason and Ironside...
Perry stood beside his brother watching as police officers began filling the convention center. His eyes darted left and right. He looked down at his brother. He could read the intensity of the situation in his eyes. He hoped that they had taken every precaution possible to protect Frank. However all the precaution they had taken could be for nothing. So far no one had seen nor heard from the Canadian detective.
"Where do you suppose your detective friend is?" Mason asked Ironside.
"How in the flaming hell should I know," Ironside snarled. "Before today, I would have told you that I could just about predict his every move. He has never done anything like this before. It is completely out of character for him not to keep in contact in this type of situation. I don't understand it, Perry. I don't know what to tell you."
"It was never suggested at the meeting that Frank wear a bulletproof vest," Perry mentioned. "Don't you think he should?"
"I instructed Paul to make sure that he put one on, that is if he even shows up at all. Not that it would help much. The killer would just shoot him in the head rather than the chest."
"How's your son handling this?"
"He's nervous but he'll do just fine."
"Bob, I don't know how to ask this but have you even considered..."
"NO! He is not capable of murder," Ironside all but shouted.
Perry could not help but think that it wouldn't matter if he was if this went terribly wrong. He would be charged with murder anyway. The evidence would be so overwhelming that Perry was not sure even he would be able to overcome it. That was exactly what their adversaries were expecting.
Ironside's phone rang. He reached into his pocket and pulled it out. Placing it to his ear, he barked, "Ironside." He listened for a moment and then said, "It is about damn time." He turned to his brother, "Let's go."
Paul and Robert...
Drake approached Robert for the third time. "Let me see that gun."
Frustrated, Robert complained, "You have already checked it three times. It has blanks in it. How many more times do you have to check it?"
"As many times as I want to," Paul said. "Now give me the gun."
Drake took the revolver from Robert. He opened the chamber and unloaded the two bullets that had been placed there earlier. After inspecting them, he put them back in the gun, closed the chamber and handed the gun back to Robert.
"Still blanks, aren't they?" Robert said.
"And they will be blanks the next three times that I check," Paul told him, with irritation.
Robert became a bit defensive. "Do you really think I want to kill Frank? He is my friend. I have no reason to kill him. Quite the contrary."
Paul softened his voice. "Your father is just trying to protect you."
Robert smiled. "I know. I'm sorry, Mr Drake."
Paul slapped the young man on the shoulder. "Forget it kid. This whole situation has all of us on edge."
The door to the room that they were waiting slammed open and Detective Frank Rousseau burst in. "You ungrateful little bastard," he yelled at Robert. He stepped forward and slammed his phone in Robert's hand. "You really took me for a fool, didn't you!"
"You can't possibly believe that I paid those men to beat you up!" Robert said defensively.
"That's what you depended on, isn't it Robert. I would never suspect you because you left the Revolution. I gave you access to just about everything. How long have you been helping the Revolution? Let me guess, you never stopped helping them!"
"Frank, stop this! Will you listen to yourself. I have helped you solve several cases to do with the Revolution. I am NOT part of it and have not been since my father came to Montreal. I can't believe that you would think that I would betray you."
Frank pointed at the phone that he had handed Robert. "Read that!"
Robert look down at the phone in his hands and began to read the screen. When he was finished he looked up at the man that he respected. He handed the phone back to Frank. "I can prove that I did not send that money."
"If that is true, then do so." Frank hoped Robert would be able to explain the money and then he would be able to believe the rest of what was on that phone would be possible.
"Frank, it has to do with that problem that I helped you with a while ago."
He looked at Robert and then at Drake. "Who is this guy?"
"My name is Paul Drake. I am a private investigator. I work for Perry Mason."
"Bob's brother?"
"That's right," Drake answered.
"Leave the room, Drake," Frank ordered.
"It's okay, Paul. Please, leave us alone," Robert pleaded.
Paul just stood there. He did not want to disobey orders from Ironside. The chief told him not to leave Robert alone for even a minute. "I am sorry I can't do that.
I am under orders from Chief Ironside and Perry Mason not to leave him alone at all."
"Then step outside and leave the door open," suggested Robert.
Paul hesitated but then walked out of the room and left the door ajar. Ten minutes later both Robert and Frank came out of the room. Frank pushed his way past Drake and left them. Drake stared at Robert. When the lad said nothing, Drake asked, "So what happened?"
Robert smiled. "Everything is alright. He believes me. We are fine. Let's go to the convention center." Robert walked away from Drake and headed for the center. Paul stood there for a moment and then followed him.
Inside the convention center...
"Bob, take a look," Perry said to his brother.
Ironside looked to the front of the Convention Center. On the left hand side, his friend, Detective Frank Rousseau was talking to Lieutenant Tragg. "Here we go," Ironside said. "I hope the flaming hell this works."
The convention had started an hour ago. Frank was the next scheduled speaker. He was to lecture on the importance of the officer's ability to observe. Lieutenant Arthur Tragg stepped to the podium and introduced Detective Frank Rousseau.
As he began his lecture, Ironside's officers stood on both sides of the detective. They watched as Robert entered the stage. He continued walking towards Frank. When he was no more than five feet away, he reached under his jacket and pulled out his revolver. He pointed it at Frank and pulled the trigger. Stumbling on a cord to the microphone, Robert accidentally fired a second shot. Frank Rousseau fell backwards to the floor.