Notes: I decided I want to expand the scene between Hamilton and Mignon that I originally had as the ending. So instead I've written a new ending for this chapter. The other scene, greatly expanded, will begin chapter nine.

Chapter Eight

Della was thunderstruck by Mignon's news. "Mignon, are you sure?" she gasped. But even as she asked, she was certain she knew the answer. The doll did look like it could be meant to resemble Perry. A cold feeling of alarm swept over her.

"I'm sure," Mignon said. "I've called the police, and they're sending some officers, but if he chooses not to stay I'll have to follow him."

Perry frowned deeply. "That's too dangerous," he said. "We don't know anything about this man. What if he does more than just craft immature threats?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if everything he does is connected with vodun," Mignon said. "He seems to consider himself an amateur priest. What I don't know is whether or not he actually has any power to cast spells."

"What do we do?" Della asked, worried. "Shouldn't we try to stall him until the police get here?"

"He should stay long enough to see my friend's performance, at least," Mignon said. "That's what he apparently comes for."

"It seems that he's going to make the first move," Perry announced as the lights came up between shows.

Della stared, her eyes wide. The man was now getting up from his table and coming over to them with slow, deliberate steps. Without saying a word he stood between Perry and Della and dropped the voodoo doll onto the table. Crimson was already seeping from the doll's chest.

Everyone jumped up, Della with an enraged cry. "What do you think you're doing?" she demanded.

The man fixed her with a cold gaze. "Change of plans," he said. "I was going to send this to the district attorney. But when I saw Mr. Mason come in, I decided to let him see it first."

"It's not going to the district attorney's office and neither are you," Perry snapped, seizing his arm. "Who are you? Who hired you to do this?"

The man did not even try to resist Perry's grip. "I don't have to tell you anything," he said. "You're not my lawyer."

"And I wouldn't want to be," Perry retorted.

By now people at the surrounding tables were standing as well, gaping in shock at the scene. Ignoring them, Mignon stepped around the chairs to stand in front of her nemesis. Her eyes were narrowed in her anger and distaste.

"I asked Hamilton Burger to investigate what was happening at the Petersons' house," she said. "I never expected someone to send him a death threat, especially one as graphic as yours. I demand to know the name of your employer!"

He looked back, unaffected. "Mignon Germaine, Creole performer and the district attorney's close friend. I've heard a lot about you. I've seen your show sometimes too."

"I'm not surprised," Mignon said.

"Why are you so intent on protecting your boss?" Perry interrupted. "It might be easier for you if you would just tell us everything you know."

"I couldn't care less about the person who hired me," the man said. "I don't know who it is. Someone called me on the phone today and told me to try to scare some people who were poking their noses into other people's business. I'd find an envelope with several thousand dollars at my door if I said Yes. With stakes like that, I had no reason not to."

"So you decided to use voodoo dolls," Della said.

"They're effective. I can make their magic work, when I want." He smirked. "Sometimes all it takes is a little mind over matter."

"Unfortunately for you, we don't scare easily," Perry said. "The only thing you've accomplished is to ensure your arrest."

"And not a moment too soon," Della announced in relief. Two plainclothesmen had just entered the club and were making their way to the table. They showed their badges as they arrived.

"Lieutenant Tragg sent us," said one. "Is this the man we were notified about?"

"Yes, Officer," Mignon said. "I'm the one who called the station."

"I'm more than happy to turn him over to your capable hands," Perry said. "And you can take this as evidence." He pointed to the doll on the table.

The first policeman read the criminal his rights and proceeded to handcuff him. The second eyed the creation, not sure what to make of it.

"This is sick," he said. "What's it supposed to be?"

"Me," Perry said.

Moments later they were all departing the club, Perry, Della, and Mignon intending to follow the police to the station to make their statements. Perry took Della's arm as they walked.

"I'm sorry about dinner," he said quietly.

"Oh, don't be," said Della. "Maybe we're just destined to not have dinner tonight. Anyway, I'm more happy about getting this man arrested than I would be about eating with him running wild."

Perry smiled. "I'll make it up to you," he promised. "The club should still be open when we're done at the station."

His phone rang just as they were getting into his car. He took it out, easing himself into the driver's seat at the same time. "Hello?"

"Perry, it's Paul," came the familiar voice. "I'm still at the Petersons' place."

"What's happening, Paul?" Perry asked. "Anything interesting?"

"Well, Douglas did know Vivalene in the past," Paul said. "They even pulled a couple of criminal stunts together. But Douglas is clean now, he says. And he hasn't been able to bring himself to tell his wife about his time as a two-bit crook. He wanted to make sure it wouldn't have to go public."

"Have you told Hamilton about this?" Perry wondered.

"Since you wanted the information, I thought I should tell you first," Paul said. "But you are planning to tell Burger, right? I don't want any conflict of interest going on."

"No conflict of interest, Paul," Perry said. "After all, we're all working on this mystery together. Go ahead and let him know."

"Will do. Oh, and Andy's here."

Perry raised an eyebrow. "Andy? Why?" Della looked to him, curious at the mention of their policeman friend.

"I'm not sure what he's got going. He just said he was in the area and not to tell Vivalene that he was over here. He's been walking around the house, checking out the weird stuff for himself."

"What does he think of it?"

"He's not sure what to make of it. Who is?"

"You make a good point," Perry said. "Is that everything?"

Paul sighed. "Someone tried to break into a house where Howie Peterson was staying with a friend," he said. "His parents went over to get him."

Perry's eyes narrowed. "That's strange. Is Howie alright?"

"I think so. I was going to go over too, but I haven't gotten away yet."

"Alright, Paul. We've had some excitement here ourselves," Perry reported. "Right now we're on our way to the police station."

"The police station?" Paul echoed in disbelief. "Perry, what's going on over there?"

"I'll tell you all about it later," Perry promised. "I have to go now."

"Okay. I should go too, actually. I'll make that call to Burger."

"Good. See you later, Paul."

"Bye, Perry."

"What was that all about?" Della asked as Perry hung up and started the engine.

"Paul's learned some interesting information," Perry said. "But right now I'm not sure how it might factor into the case, if it does at all."

He pulled out of the parking lot and after the already-departed police car.

xxxx

Thanks to Howie's memory and one of the best police sketch artists in Los Angeles, a composite of the burglar was ready within a couple of hours.

"Do you recognize him?" Vance Varney, the sketch artist, asked of Hamilton.

Hamilton frowned at the picture. "That's Vivalene's henchman," he said. "I had to question him as a witness three years ago. He was extremely uncooperative."

"We'll get an all-points bulletin out for him," Sergeant Nichols declared.

"And we're going to go away, right?" Douglas said.

"Yes," Hamilton assured him. But he was scrutinizing Douglas even as he spoke. He had received a phone call from Paul not long ago and had then questioned Douglas in private about the matter. Douglas had insisted that what he had told Paul was all there was to his past with Vivalene. Hamilton, however, was not sure. It still seemed to him that Douglas was holding back. He intended to investigate this angle more thoroughly.

"You can leave right now through the back way," Hamilton continued at last. "The police will drive you where you'll be safe. I'll see to it that some of your belongings are sent after you, if you tell me what you want included."

Grateful, Douglas and Martha named several items, among them several sets of clothing. Howie, who had sat quietly listening, finally spoke up.

"I want my truck."

Hamilton paused and looked to him. "Your truck?"

Howie gave a firm nod. "It's a big yellow dumptruck with a black back."

"It's his favorite toy," Martha interjected, looking apologetically at Hamilton.

"That's not a problem," Hamilton said. "I'll tell whoever goes to get your things to make sure to include Howie's truck."

Howie smiled.

"If that's everything, you should probably get away now," Hamilton went on, looking from Martha to Douglas.

Douglas nodded. "Thank you for everything you've done, Mr. Burger."

"Don't thank me until we get this solved," Hamilton said. "There could still be a long way to go."

"Well, we thank you anyway," Martha said. "You and the police have been good to us."

"Tell Paul Drake goodbye for us, won't you?" Douglas asked.

"I'll tell him," Hamilton said.

Howie climbed down from the chair. To Hamilton's shock, the boy reached up and wrapped his arms around Hamilton's waist. Then, pulling back, he hurried over to his parents. Two police officers escorted them to the back exit.

Sergeant Nichols came up beside Hamilton. "You've really made a friend there," he noted.

Hamilton turned away. "It's just because I'm his godmother's friend," he said. "He as much as admitted that."

"Oh, he really likes you," Nichols smiled. "I've got nephews and nieces. You can always tell when they're nuts about someone."

Hamilton glanced back at him and headed off down the corridor. "We'd better see what we can do about making it safe for him and his family to go home soon," he said.

"Hamilton!"

He jumped a mile at the call. "Perry?" he said in disbelief. Again he turned. Perry and Della were coming out of another room and over to him. "What are you doing here?"

"We caught the man who sent you that voodoo doll," Perry said. "He gave another one to me."

"Mignon was with us," Della put in. "A few minutes ago an officer came to tell us what was happening with the Petersons. She went to tell them goodbye."

"They're just leaving now," Hamilton said. "We thought it was best for them to go into protective custody for a while."

Perry nodded. "That's the safest thing for them right now."

"Hopefully it won't have to be for very long," Hamilton said. "We know who the man was that tried to break into Howie's friend's house. He worked for Vivalene. The police have an alert out on him."

"Good," Perry said. "What about Vivalene herself?"

"Oh, nevermind about her," Lieutenant Tragg said, suddenly appearing from the booking room. "Let's just say we already have an undercover man following up that angle."

"Andy," Perry guessed.

Tragg stared at him. "How did you . . . oh, why do I bother."

"What's he going to do?" Hamilton asked in surprise.

"Well, Vivalene was already making a play for him," Tragg said. "He's going to pretend to fall for her and see what he can learn."

"Let's just hope his act doesn't become more than an act," Della said.

Tragg looked to her. "Della, Andy's a professional. He wouldn't let himself plunge into that vixen's trap."

"He may be a professional, but he's also a man," Della said. "And I wouldn't be surprised if Vivalene has a record where she scratches off the number of conquests she's made."

"That part wouldn't surprise me either," Perry said. "But I'm sure Andy can handle it. Meanwhile, I promised you a dinner. Shall we try again?"

Della smiled. "Why not. Maybe the third time really will be the charm."

Tragg raised an eyebrow. "You've failed that many times tonight?"

"I have," Perry said. "But it will only be the second try with Della." He offered his arm, which Della took. They bade the others goodbye as they headed for the door.

Hamilton watched them go. "If we weren't almost at a standstill here, Perry wouldn't even stop for dinner," he remarked.

"And let a pretty young girl go hungry?" Tragg said as he came up next to his friend.

"I've heard it's happened before," Hamilton said. "Speaking of dinner, I was thinking of taking Mignon somewhere. Would you like to join us?"

"I would, if I wasn't still on duty," Tragg said. "Thank you anyway. Maybe next time."

Hamilton nodded. "I'll see you later then. Call me if there's any news."

"Will do," Tragg said.

xxxx

Andy slipped back out of the Petersons' mansion in enough time to keep his appointment with Vivalene. He kept to the shadows until he was on the sidewalk and then walked to the house next-door in full view of anyone at the windows. Pete Kelton's car was still across the street, but Andy gave no indication that he knew the occupant.

He headed up the stairs, across the front yard, and to the porch at a normal pace. When he knocked on the door, it did not take long for Vivalene to come and open it. She stood silhouetted in the light from the living room, still wearing the green silk dress.

"Why, darling, you're right on time," she purred. "Do come in." She moved aside, gesturing to the room beyond.

Andy took off his hat and stepped into the entryway. "Thank you," he said.

"I was thinking of sending for delivery if we're staying in," she mused. "But I'm perfectly happy with going out too."

"It would be easier to visit if we stay in," Andy said. "And I don't know much about you. You've intrigued me."

"Oh really?" Vivalene shut the door after him. "I'm honored. You've intrigued me too, Lieutenant. Policemen fascinate me." She walked into the living room proper, going for a phonebook on an end table. "I always wonder how they can work for years at a job that's so unfulfilling and depressing."

"It's a job that has to be done," Andy said as he followed her.

Vivalene flipped through the pages. "How long have you been on the force, darling?" she queried.

"Over fifteen years," Andy said.

He leaned on the back of the couch with one arm. "I heard from Lieutenant Tragg that you've been in Los Angeles before."

"Guilty as charged," Vivalene shrugged. "I ended up in a bit of legal trouble, but that got sorted out."

"So what brings you back again?" Andy asked.

Vivalene tapped out a number. "I just find the city exciting," she smiled. "Especially the people. There's so many charming men here." She winked at him.

Within moments the food had been ordered and Vivalene was leading Andy to the front of the couch. "It should be here within thirty minutes," she said, boldly taking hold of his hands. "Let's relax until then."

Andy let her, all the while staying on guard. What was her game? Did she just want allies in high places? Or did she have something else in mind for him?

"You know," Vivalene said as they got settled, "I've been hoping to find someone like you in L.A., someone willing to listen to me."

"What do you mean?" Andy questioned. "Are you in trouble again?"

Vivalene nodded. "Terrible trouble," she said sadly. "It's not true that I'm only in Los Angeles because I like it and the people. You see, I knew this man years ago, Douglas Peterson. He took something of mine, part of an old map that was a family legacy. And he won't give it back."

Andy frowned. "Why would he want your map?"

"It's complicated," Vivalene said with a rueful smile. "The house he lives in now used to belong to my sister. She told me about finding the map and said that I could have whatever it led to if something happened to her. Well, she's dead now and . . ." She shook her head. "I thought I'd be able to find whatever legacy she left me. Instead, Douglas managed to weasel his way into that house and is claiming the treasure for himself."

Andy stared at her. Just how much gall did she have? It was tempting to ask her if that was the sister she kept blaming for everything bad she did, but he held his tongue. That would blow his cover immediately.

"You don't believe me either," Vivalene said, seeing his shocked expression.

"N-No," Andy stammered, coming back to himself. "No, that isn't it at all. I'm . . . I'm just stunned that anyone would push you around like that. Isn't there anything you can do?"

Vivalene shrugged. "I've talked to lawyers. No one will help me, not even the acclaimed Perry Mason or the district attorney. They're both holding what happened three years ago against me, even though that's all past and done with! And I was never guilty in the first place!"

Andy moved closer to her on the couch. "The district attorney could lose his job if this gets out," he said.

"I know," Vivalene said. "But I can't bear to do that to him, even after everything he's done to me. I just want what's rightfully mine!"

Andy reached out, lifting her chin with a finger. "I can see that you get it," he said. "And I'm not as generous as you are. I'll see that the proper action is taken against the district attorney for how he's ignored you."

Vivalene searched his eyes for any hint of a lie. "Really?" she said softly. "You would help me, when we barely know each other?"

"I would like to get to know you better," Andy said. He leaned in, kissing her on the lips.

It did not take long for Vivalene to return it, throwing her arms around his neck. Andy held her close to him, his heart racing.

She was a beautiful woman. He could never deny that. But her falsehoods were endless and sickening. If it were not for this self-chosen assignment he would get away from her, repulsed.

He had never done something like this on a case before. Vivalene subscribed to lies and trickery on a regular basis, but that was not his way. He dealt with facts and using them to get to the truth. And now look at what he was doing to find the truth.

At the moment, he was not sure he felt much less repulsed about himself.

xxxx

The sirens were wailing loud in Martha Peterson's ears as she slowly regained consciousness. She groaned, brushing her wild hair out of her eyes. "Doug?" she called, still only half-awake. "Howie?"

The cold air was blowing in on her from the car's open door. She raised herself farther, her eyes wide with increasing panic.

Douglas was slumped next to the door, unconscious but stirring. In the front seat, the driver was sprawled over the steering wheel. His partner was awake, talking to a paramedic.

There was no one else in the vehicle.

Fully conscious now, Martha fumbled with the seatbelt and all but flew out of the car. "Howie?" she screamed. "Howie, where are you?"

The paramedic ran over to her. "Take it easy, ma'am," he exclaimed. "You've suffered a bad shock. Your car was run off the road and . . ."

"Where's Howie?" Martha interrupted, gripping at the man's arms. "He's only seven! Have you seen him? Has he been badly hurt?"

The paramedic looked at her with both confusion and horrified regret. "I'm sorry," he said. "There isn't a young boy anywhere around here. Your car is the only thing we've found."

Martha stiffened, staring at him without fully processing his words. But then it all slammed into her in one devastating realization. She let go, sinking to her knees on the cold highway. "No," she sobbed. "No!"

They had been run off the road. It had been a deliberate, malicious action. And whoever had done it had taken their son.