Chapter Eleven

On Sunday afternoon Freddy Solito loaded two large suitcases and a large clothing trunk into his car for Roxy. She stood on the sidewalk in front of her apartment building and looked around the area.

"I'm sure gonna miss this town... But they say that Vegas is the place to be for a successful lounge singer like me..." Roxy waited for Solito to hold the car door open for her to get in.

Solito was already annoyed with Roxy's arrogance and was not looking forward to the long drive ahead with her. He closed the trunk lid on the car and walked directly to the driver's door to get in. "You ain't no singing star yet and I ain't your limo driver, Roxy, so get in. We ain't got all day. The boss wants me to call him before we leave and we're already a few minutes late."

Roxy pouted and got in the car. They drove to a nearby gas station and Solito called Vinny from a pay phone.

"We're ready to hit the road, boss. What else do you want?"

Vinny paused for a moment. "I need you to take a detour. Drive to the shack and call me from town there tomorrow afternoon. I might have a job for you to do before you get to Vegas."

Solito hung up the phone and started the drive back to the shack in the desert.

DSXOPMXODSXOPMXODSXOPMXODSXOPMXODSXOPMXODSXOPMXODSXOPMXO

Perry and Paul spent most of the day on Sunday reading over the police reports of the murder of Marty Cameron. Paul brought out the arrest records of Antonio Sharpelli. He had been arrested for mostly petty crimes in Kansas City and Las Vegas.

Paul laughed as he read the Las Vegas arrest records. "This is like a broken record. Drunk and disorderly four times. Assault five times. All in the past two years. All but one assault charge was dismissed when the victims wouldn't cooperate with the prosecution. The only assault charge that stuck is when he tried to fight with a Sheriff's deputy. He got six months probation for that."

Perry just shook his head. "His record in Kansas City is almost identical. It looks like Vinny rocked the boat to get him out of a felony-level hit and run when he was eighteen, though. He got off on a technicality when the vehicle involved in the incident disappeared from the police impound lot."

After reading enough about the case and Antonio Sharpelli, Perry wanted to meet with him in the jail so he could discuss the arraignment process on Monday morning with him. He called the jail inmate Sergeant to see if his favorite jail contact was working. He wanted to get in and out of the jail without all of the jailers knowing who he was visiting and why. When he got off of the phone, he let Paul know that they were good to go for a confidential visit to the jail.

A sleepy-looking Antonio Sharpelli was brought into a private jail conference room to meet with Perry and Paul. He shuffled in wearing over-sized jail slippers and a wrinkled light blue denim shirt that wasn't tucked into his denim jeans. His cocky attitude presented itself right away to Perry and Paul.

"Whatever you're here for, it better be for a damn good reason... I was taking a nap..." Sharpelli leaned back against the door and yawned.

Perry was frowning and stared at him for a moment. "Have a seat Mr. Sharpelli."

Sharpelli stared back at Perry defiantly but pulled a chair out at the conference table and sat down. "My name is Tony. Mister Sharpelli is my father... Do I know you?"

"My name is Mason... Perry Mason... I've been persuaded by your father to be your attorney."

"Do you have a cigarette for me, Perry Mason?" Tony's request was rather scornful sounding.

Paul was standing closer to Tony so he gave him a cigarette and brought out his lighter to light it for him.

Tony looked Paul over with the same cocky attitude he showed when he walked in the room. "Who are you?"

Perry's patience was running out right away. "He's my associate and you don't need to know who he is right now. I wanted to meet with you before your court appearance tomorrow morning. I've read the police reports and I know about your arrest record. Now I need to know why you killed Marty Cameron..."

Tony leaned back in his chair, put his feet up on the table, and just smoked his cigarette.

Perry gave Tony enough time to respond and with no reply from Tony, he closed up his briefcase and started to walk out of the room. He spoke to Paul. "Apparently he doesn't want to save himself from the gas chamber, so why should I try to defend him? Let's go."

Tony took his feet off the table right away. "Wait just a minute! What's this gas chamber stuff you're saying? They can't keep me in jail after tomorrow... Can they? I thought all of the witnesses were paid off..."

Before he opened the door, Perry paused and turned back to Tony. "Do you really think that your father would have arranged for me to represent you if these murder charges were just going to disappear? Any other attorney from within his, uh, organization would have been brought in instead of me... Good luck, Tony..."

Tony jumped out of the chair. "Wait! Just hold on a second here! Nobody told me anything about this gas chamber crap! I thought they'd be letting me out tomorrow after court! If my father hired you – you've gotta help me!" Tony's cocky attitude turned into a desperate plea for help.

Perry stopped at the door. "Then I suggest that you sit down and tell me how and why you murdered Marty Cameron."

With a very worried look on his face, Tony sat back down and told Perry exactly how and why he killed Marty Cameron.

PMXODSXOPMXODSXOPMXODSXOPMXODSXOPMXODSXOPMXODSXOPMXODSXO

When he got back to the ranch house late in the afternoon, Dice walked right to the bar and poured himself a drink as soon as he walked in the door. He tossed the drink down his throat in one gulp and poured himself another one.

Fatso watched from the kitchen. "Take it easy on that stuff. I don't wanna have to knock you on your ass again when you act up."

Dice walked over to an easy chair and sat down with his drink. "Where is she?"

Fatso walked over to the dining table and sat down. "She's been in her room all afternoon. You hit her pretty hard. She had a bloody lip."

Della heard the men talking in the living room and walked over to her bedroom door to listen in on their conversation. She still had a cool, wet washcloth held to her cheek.

Dice was laughing while talking to Fatso. "Ha! Serves her right... Before she leaves here, I'll get my dough back..." He quickly changed the subject. "I called Junior from town. He says we're getting company tonight... They should be here around supper time..."

Della perked up a little thinking that maybe one of the visitors might be Perry. She put her ear closer to the door to keep listening.

"Looks like I'll have to make stew for supper. It's the only thing I can keep warm for any extra guests." Fatso got up from the table to walk back into the kitchen area. "Who's visiting – and why?"

Dice sipped his drink. "Solito's stopping by. I don't know why. He's supposed to be heading to Vegas, so this is a little out of his way. We'll know more when he gets here."

When the conversation between Dice and Fatso quieted down, Della sat back on her bed. She was planning to offer Dice all of his poker loss back in exchange for a ride to the nearest town, but now she thought that she'd have to wait until she finds out who was coming along with Solito. An hour later she fixed her hair, put her earrings back on, and walked out of her room to see what the men were up to.

The beef stew cooking in the kitchen smelled delicious. Della found Fatso in the kitchen kneading dough for biscuits. Dice was nowhere to be seen. She walked over to the stove to see if there was any coffee to drink.

"Your stew smells good. May I help you with something?" Della poured herself some coffee.

Fatso looked up from rolling out the biscuit dough. "I don't need any help... But thanks anyway... How's your fat lip?"

"It's okay. Thanks again for your help to defend me." Della tried to smile.

"Dice didn't mean anything by that. But don't expect an apology from him. He's just sore about losing a week's pay."

Della began planting a seed for securing her freedom. "I'll be glad to give it back – and whatever you lost, too."

"That won't be necessary, lady. You won it fair and square."

They both looked towards the front door when they heard a car pulling up in the driveway. Della walked over towards the dining table and sat down with her coffee to wait for the visitors to walk in. She heard two car doors closing. A few moments later, the woman that Della knew as 'Mary Smith' - aka Roxy Marino walked in.

Roxy laughed when she saw Della sitting at the table. "Ha ha! Well if it isn't Perry Mason's Girl Friday!" Roxy thought that she'd taunt Della. "Ooh, that Perry Mason... That man is somethin' else. So handsome... Very smart... Such a gentleman. When he holds me and kisses me, I just melt... Yeah, that man is somethin' else!" Roxy glanced at Della to see her reaction.

Della looked up at Roxy and just sipped her cup of coffee. She thought that she'd better not say what was really on her mind as she listened to Roxy babble on so she stayed quiet.

Fatso spoke up. "And who the hell are you?"

Roxy turned her attention to Fatso and walked in to the kitchen area to see what Fatso was doing. "I'm Roxy. I work for Vinny... So, who are you supposed to be - Bartolomeo Scappi?"

Della rolled her eyes when she heard Roxy refer to Fatso as Scappi. She slowly lowered her eyes when she remembered Perry talking about the famous Italian chef as he prepared a nice dinner for them a few years ago.

Fatso just looked confused and put his rolling pin down on the kitchen counter. "I work for Vinny, too, and I do all the cooking around here. So keep your smart mouth to yourself and I'll make sure that you're fed..." Fatso moved on to cutting the biscuits out of the dough and placing them on a baking sheet.

Roxy walked back towards the dining table and took her gloves off. She looked around the room as Solito walked in the front door. "This is some kinda dump..." She looked at Solito. "Where's my bedroom?" She glanced over towards Della's room.

Solito gestured towards one of the sofas in the living room. "Make yourself comfortable."

Roxy was not pleased at Solito's suggestion. "Oh no... I ain't stayin' on no couch!" She walked towards Della's room. "Who's room is this?"

"That room is already taken. Like Freddy said, you get the sofa – it opens up into a bed. Or maybe you want to stay out in the barn?" Fatso was serious.

"Like hell I'll stay in this wide open living room. A woman needs her privacy. I'm taking over this room." Roxy walked in to Della's room and Solito quickly followed her.

"He told you that this room's taken. Now go out to the car and get your overnight bag. If we're lucky, we'll only be here tonight and we'll finish our drive tomorrow after I talk to Vinny." Solito grabbed Roxy's arm to direct her away from Della's room.

Roxy pulled her arm away from Solito and turned to glare at Della. "If that's your room, get your stuff out of there. I'm movin' in."

Solito corrected Roxy right away. "She's not moving out, Roxy. Now go get your bag..."

Dice came out of the bunk room to see what all the commotion was about. He leaned on the bar to pour himself a drink.

Roxy wasn't going to be ordered around by Solito. She walked right over to Della. "Get up – go move your stuff out of the room – now!"

When Della didn't move, Roxy grabbed Della by the hair. "I said get up and clear out of that room!"

Della's head was pulled to the side as Roxy pulled her hair and Della got out of her chair. When Della grabbed on to Roxy's arms to defend herself, the fight was on.

While the two women struggled, Dice egged them on from the bar. "Look at that! A cat fight! C'mon Roxy – you can take her!"

Della managed to push Roxy away several times before Solito moved in to break up the fight. He finally pulled the screaming Roxy away from Della.

"That's it!" Solito put Roxy in a bear hug and walked her towards the front door. "I told you to go out and get your bag!" He pushed her out the door. "The choice is the sofa or the barn. You touch that dame again and I'll tie you up for the night!"

Dice stopped laughing and swallowed his drink. Della brushed her hair back with her fingers and picked up her overturned chair. Fatso just shook his head and stirred the stew on the stove. The room was quiet and they could still hear Solito outside scolding Roxy. A minute later Solito came back inside alone.

Solito spoke to Dice handing him some cash. "Give Roxy a ride to town. She can get a room at the River Inn for tonight. I'm tired of her crap! After I talk to Vinny tomorrow, we're heading to Vegas to drop her off."

Dice finished his drink and took his car key out of his pocket. As he walked out the door they all heard Roxy shouting and ordering Dice around. "Get my bags in your car. They're too heavy for me to carry... Damn! I think I broke a fingernail..."

Fatso broke the silence in the room. "Supper will be ready in five minutes..."

Della wondered if she'd ever get out of the ranch house.

DSXOPMXODSXOPMXODSXOPMXODSXOPMXODSXOPMXODSXOPMXODSXOPMXO

The Homicide office of the LAPD was bustling with activity as detectives and police typists were busy talking on phones and completing reports. Lieutenant Tragg was sitting at his desk reviewing a report when Sergeant Brice knocked on his door.

Tragg looked up towards the door. "If that's you, Sergeant Brice, come in here..."

Brice walked in the office and Tragg motioned for him to close the door. When the door was shut, Tragg motioned for Brice to move closer to him.

Tragg whispered to Brice. "Is he in his office yet?"

Brice nodded.

Tragg grinned and nodded back. He spoke louder. "I want the rest of those confidential files on the Cameron murder brought in here from records tonight. That Sharpelli character is being arraigned tomorrow morning in Judge Brandon's courtroom at nine o'clock. The D.A. Is going to review those files with me right before court."

Brice's reply was also loud enough to be heard outside of Tragg's office. "Okay Lieutenant. It'll take me about twenty minutes to go get the files and bring them back here. Will you still be here?"

"I might be here. I just have one call to make. If I'm not here when you get back, you can just leave them on my desk and lock my door when you leave. I'll be here early tomorrow morning."

"Right, Lieutenant. I'll run over to records right now." Brice walked out of Tragg's office. He saw Sergeant Cager in the hallway near Tragg's door. "Hi Jim. You're working late – and on a Sunday, too! I didn't know you were so dedicated!"

Cager continued walking by Brice and just grunted. "I'm always working, Brice. See you later..."

Tragg overheard Cager and Brice's words in the hallway. He quickly picked up his phone and made it sound like he was making a call. He dialed the phone number for the local time and temperature recording from the phone company. He watched Cager walk by his open door and saw Cager's silhouette stopped in the hallway.

Tragg began speaking on the phone loud enough for Cager to hear. "Good evening Agent Coffman. Why is the FBI working so late tonight?" He paused. "I see... Yes... Sergeant Brice is bringing out new information from records to my office tonight... Right... The arraignment is tomorrow... This new discovery will come out at the trial... Okay, Russ... Thanks... Yup – goodnight."

Cager quickly walked away from Tragg's door and went to his office nearby to wait for Sergeant Brice to return to Tragg's office with the reports Cager wanted to take a look at.

After Sergeant Brice left the files on Tragg's desk, he left the building and met Tragg in the parking garage. They got in Tragg's unmarked police car and waited for Cager to act on the information they planted to see if Cager was the dirty cop that they thought he was.

Cager picked open the lock to Tragg's office door and read through the files on Tragg's desk. He wrote down a few notes in his notebook and left the building right away to find a phone booth to call Vinny Sharpelli.

"We've got problems, Vinny. The cops found another witness to Cameron's murder. Apparently there was a maid there serving food and drinks that night. She saw the whole thing. The cops are hiding her in an apartment on Dell Avenue until the trial." He read Vinny all of the notes that he wrote down in his notebook.

Vinny was momentarily silent on the other end of the line. "Police witnesses, Jimmy, are your problem. I suggest that you take care of the problem... And soon!" Vinny hung up the phone and snapped his fingers to get Coccini's attention away from the television program Coccini was watching.

Coccini walked over to Vinny right away. "What now, boss?"

"Jimmy says there's a surprise witness ready to testify at Antonio's trial. Cops are hiding this dame in an apartment on Dell." Vinny wrote the address down on the hotel stationery by the phone. "Get over there and take a look. I told Jimmy to take care of this."

Coccini put on his suit coat over his shoulder holster and left Vinny's hotel suite right away.

Cager hung up the phone and rubbed his forehead. He thought of a plan right away and left the phone booth to go to the Greyhound Bus Depot.

Within the hour, Tragg, Brice and two other Sergeants from the LAPD Internal Affairs Division watched as Cager got out of his 1959 Chevy Corvette in front of the apartment building that they were set up in. They quietly took their places inside apartment number four.

Coccini spotted three unmarked police cars parked near the apartment building. He also watched as Cager parked his car and walked into the apartment building.

Tragg gave last minute instructions to the young female Police Department records clerk posing as their phony police witness. "You know what we want you to do. We don't expect trouble so you'll be safe. We'll be right behind you." She nodded confidently.

Cager knocked on the apartment door and the young lady opened the door. Cager looked her over.

"Miss Severson? I'm Sergeant Cager – LAPD Homicide Unit." He showed the woman his badge.

She moved away from the door and invited him in to the apartment. "Is there something wrong, Sergeant?"

"I'm afraid there is, Ma'am. I'm here to take you to the bus depot. There's been a change of plans." He brought out a one-way bus ticket to Mexico in her name and handed it to her. "My orders are to get you out of town for a while. We'll bring you back in time for the murder trial. I'm sorry that this is so sudden. We need to leave now, so if you'll just get your things together quickly..."

Lieutenant Tragg walked out of the bedroom area of the apartment. Cager heard someone approaching and turned towards him.

"Oh! Lieutenant... Uh, I didn't expect to see you here... I, uh, just thought I'd check up on Miss Severson here..." Cager began to sweat when he saw the other cops walk into the room behind Tragg.

Tragg was direct in his reply to Cager as he removed Cager's gun from the holster on his belt. "I knew you were dirty the moment you drove up in that new Corvette... A Corvette on a policeman's salary? Ha! You make me sick! You've tarnished the LAPD badge! There never was another Police witness being hidden here. We planted those files on my desk to see who's been feeding information to the mob." Tragg turned to Brice. "Go ahead and book 'em." He then turned to the Internal Affairs Sergeants. "The Feds will have first crack at him. If there's anything left after that, he'll be all yours..."

Brice put the handcuffs on Cager extra tight before leading him out the door. The cops loaded the handcuffed Sergeant Cager into one of the unmarked police cars outside. Coccini watched them drive away from the area before he started his car and drove back to Vinny's hotel suite to bring Vinny the news.

PMXODSXOPMXODSXOPMXODSXOPMXODSXOPMXODSXOPMXODSXOPMXODSXO

When Dice returned to the ranch house he found it too peaceful for his liking. Fatso was on a sofa listening to 'Have Gun Will Travel' on a radio program and Della was almost finished with her third Louis L'Amour paperback novel. Solito was already in the bunk room sleeping.

Dice poured himself a drink and sat down at the dining table. He tried to start a conversation with Della who was seated nearby in an easy chair.

"How much longer are you going to read that book?"

Della continued to ignore Dice and turned another page in the book.

Dice was persistent. "Okay, look, I'm sorry I got so angry. I don't usually go around hitting women... How about if we play some gin rummy instead of poker? Just a friendly game of gin rummy..."

Della thought it over – hoping that if she played gin rummy for a while, she could soften up Dice. She was thinking that if she let him win, he'd be in a better mood. She could then find an opportunity to give him back all of his money in exchange for the ride to town. She lowered the book onto her lap and looked over to him.

"I might be interested in gin rummy. But not for money. Just for points. I'm pretty tired so I won't last too long."

Dice stood up right away and took the deck of cards out of the drawer in the bar. "Okay. When you get too sleepy, we'll quit." Dice poured himself another drink and started shuffling the cards.

An hour into the card game Dice noticed that Della was making mistakes which were costing her points. "Hey, lady. That wasn't so smart to discard that jack..."

Since Fatso had gone to the bunk room after listening to his radio show, Della thought she'd make her proposal to Dice.

"If we were playing for money, you'd be a little ahead of me... How would you like to get all of your money back right now?"

Dice looked away from the cards in his hand. "What are you thinking – an all-or-nothing hand?"

"No... I'll give you every dime in my purse if you'll just drive me to the nearest town and let me go. You can just tell your boss that I caused a scene and got the attention of a cop and you had to let me get away. You can just make something up... And I'll give you one hundred ninety-five bucks. That's all I have..." She looked him in the eye and waited for his reply.

He thought it over for a moment and put his cards down on the table. "A hundred ninety-five, huh?"

Della crossed her fingers under the table. Dice looked like he might just take the deal.

Then Dice shook his head. "No... It would never work... For one thing, I've never seen a cop in town. There's maybe a Sheriff's car that drives through once in a while. And nobody would ever believe that story that you just got away from me. Besides, when this job is over, I'll have over five hundred bucks coming to me... No, lady... I ain't taking you to town..."

Della decided to sweeten the pot. "Listen... I have thousands of dollars in my savings account in Los Angeles. Name your price. I'll have the money wired to you right away..."

"I can't do it lady... I just can't do it."

Della frowned. "If you change your mind, just let me know in the morning." She excused herself from the game and went to her room. She'd have to think of some other way to get away from these men.

DSXOPMXODSXOPMXODSXOPMXODSXOPMXODSXOPMXODSXOPMXODSXOPMXO

Perry brought a book out of the office law library and stuffed it into his briefcase. It was nearly ten o'clock on Sunday night and he decided to go home and try to get some rest before the arraignment in the morning. Paul had left the office hours ago and Perry promised that he'd only be spending the night reading case law in preparation for the Sharpelli case.

When he walked in his apartment door, he left his briefcase by his easy chair in the living room and went to hang up his sport coat. After pouring himself a brandy, he kicked off his shoes, lit a cigarette, and sat down to read his law book.

Perry read through part of a case in the book and was having a hard time trying to concentrate on what he was reading. His thoughts always strayed to wondering where Della could be and if she was okay.

He missed his girl. He missed her smile. He missed the way she stands in front of his desk – her arms folded across her chest – one leg posed in front of the other. He missed her being next to him – sitting in her chair by his desk - her pencil always ready to record important information. He missed her just sitting on his desk discussing the events of the day. He missed her cuddling with him in front of a fireplace on chilly nights. He missed dining and dancing with her. He missed her laughter and charm. Then it really hit him hard when he couldn't remember the last time that he'd told her that he loved her. He rubbed his forehead and cursed himself for putting Della in danger.

He put the law book down and got up to walk over to his bookcase. He found the photo album that Della had put together for him - giving it to him on his last birthday. Perry sat back down in his easy chair and began paging through the photo album. There were photos of him and Della relaxing on the beach in Malibu; dancing at the weddings of friends; salmon fishing near Westport Washington; building a snowman in the mountains near Lake Tahoe. All happy times. All good times. Then he saw the photo of them embracing in front of the fountain in the courtyard of the Vista Del Mar. They would be there right now if only... He sighed and hung his head down. He really missed his girl.

TBC

Thank you for reading. Your comments are appreciated.