Chapter 20
Lambert Keating mopped furiously at his face, his handkerchief ineffectual in staunching the flow of flop sweat that had broken out at Kay-Kay's words. "Whatever do you mean, Kay-Kay? I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Tell us about the lady, Kay-Kay," Captain Ingles requested.
"Yes Kay-Kay, tell us about the lady," her mother urged. She glanced at Bert Keating with frosty suspicion.
"She has white hair and long red fingernails." Kay-Kay gave her habitual shrug. "She's pretty from far away, but up close I don't like her."
"Do you know the lady's name?" Tragg asked.
Kay-Kay shrugged. "Uncle Wade called her Vicky. She came over once and Uncle Wade took her for a drive 'cuz Mama was sleeping. I answered the door."
"Vicky!" Maryann Baynum exploded. "What idiot moved the rock she lives under?"
A vague memory nudged at Perry Mason. A well-endowed woman with platinum blonde hair, deep red lipstick, pointed fingernails painted to match her mouth. Vicky. Victoria Chapman. She had been part of Wade and Maryann's social group, the group into which he had been thrust after taking up residence with the Baynum's, the group with whom alcohol and marijuana flowed freely several nights a week at the big Victorian house, the group among whom romantic partners were shared liberally. It was after one such gathering that he had succumbed to Maryann's blatant seduction for the first time, awakening in his bed with Maryann, with a certainty about what had transpired, but without a clear memory of it. Maryann later claimed it was the night she conceived her child.
"I remember her," he spoke aloud. "She dated Wade a few times."
"She dated everybody a few times," Maryann said caustically.
Bert Keating stiffened visibly. "You did a fair amount of dating yourself, Maryann," he charged ungallantly.
"I couldn't hold a candle to her," she retorted. "What is she doing back in town? And more importantly, what are you doing – " she suddenly broke off and stared at Bert Keating in horror. "She's behind all of this, isn't she? She was the only other person who knew I was pregnant before I met Perry. Wade didn't think up this scheme with Spicy Bits himself. Does she want more money, Bert? Is she pinching you again, too?"
Bert Keating raised himself to his full stocky height of five feet nine inches and adjusted his silk bow tie. "I will say nothing more without the benefit of counsel," he proclaimed with all the dignity he could muster.
The deeper one dove into the circumstances surrounding Wade Baynum's murder, the more complicated and confusing it became, a train wreck of shame and deceit, each rail car revealing another secret as the rescue effort progressed. Doris, the police stenographer, flexed her overworked fingers and quietly pointed out to Captain Ingles that she had only a few pages left in her steno pad.
"You insufferable coward," Maryann Baynum spat at Lambert Keating. "You stood there and let Kay-Kay incriminate herself…but that was on purpose wasn't it? You wanted what she did to divert attention from what you did. Did you kill Wade?"
"Why don't you ask Kay-Kay," Lambert Keating challenged. "I'm sure the testimony of a simple child will carry so much more weight than mine."
"I don't know what Uncle Bert did," Kay-Kay offered. "I went the wrong way and had to turn around. I saw him running to Uncle Wade's car when I drove by. The lady was standing on the curb. I waved."
"You are the biggest piece of crap, Bert," Maryann Baynum proclaimed. "Letting everyone think Kay-Kay killed Wade."
Tragg and Perry Mason exchanged glances. Both were content to allow Lambert Keating and Maryann Baynum to talk, as both had formed a similar theory that begged confirmation. If allowed to snipe at one another long enough, the true events of the night Wade Baynum was murdered could be revealed by the attorney and his bookkeeper.
"Kay-Kay," Perry Mason spoke, "do you know anything more about that night? Did you see anything else?"
Kay-Kay shook her head. "I ate three cookies with Aunt Madge and walked home. Mama was still asleep."
Lambert Keating mopped at his face with the sodden handkerchief. The atmosphere in the parlor had changed from dismay over Kay-Kay's account of her actions with Wade Baynum to overt hostility toward him. "I shall continue to refuse to answer questions without first consulting an attorney. I insist that I be allowed to retain an attorney of my choosing this instant. "
"You're such a prig, Bert," Maryann Baynum said flatly.
Tragg bowed slightly. "By all means, Mr. Keating, you will be allowed to retain an attorney. But you will be making the call from Police Headquarters. We're through with this dog-and-pony show as of this moment."
Captain Ingles radioed Headquarters for a representative from juvenile services to be dispatched to the Baynum home, and for a warrant to be issued for one Victoria Chapman in connection with the murder of Wade Baynum. Ingles remained outside, smoking with Paul Drake and Doris, while Perry, Della, and Tragg held down the fort inside. Kay-Kay was frightened and distraught at the thought of being taken to Headquarters in a police car and continued to cling to Della for all she was worth, to the undisguised disgust of her mother.
Maryann Baynum refused to allow Perry or Della to accompany her daughter to Headquarters, refused to retain an attorney, and vehemently refused to leave the crumbling Victorian house. Her agoraphobia a well-documented fact, any further questioning would be carried out within the confines of her home. But her daughter required professional evaluation, her story official documentation and thorough questioning if it was determined she possessed the ability to understand her actions and their import. Tragg and Perry Mason were convinced she had merely choked Wade Baynum into unconsciousness with his tie in her effort to convince him to not 'hurt nobody', but it would be up to investigators and the District Attorney to arrive at the sequence of events that led up to the man's demise.
No amount of sensible talk or cajoling could change Maryann's mind about allowing someone Kay-Kay knew to accompany her to Headquarters. She seemed unconcerned with her daughter's plight, and kept up a constant litany of complaints about how badly she had been treated during the recently concluded ordeal in her parlor. She made Lieutenant Tragg promise that neither Perry nor Della were to be allowed near her daughter once she was remanded to the juvenile officer.
When the car containing a representative of the juvenile justice system of Sacramento arrived, Kay-Kay attached herself to Della and cried hysterically. Her mother offered no comfort, showed no remorse or sadness over the girl's distress, and seemed relieved to have her removed from the house. It was Perry and Tragg who pulled Kay-Kay gently from Della's embrace and escorted her outside to the waiting automobile, tucked protectively between them as she continued to weep for Della or her Mama to come with her.
As Kay-Kay's cries faded with distance, Maryann Baynum turned and studied Della with acidic antipathy. "You're really quite impressed with yourself, aren't you? Secretary to a famous attorney, your picture in the paper all the time, cops and detectives falling at your feet, your boss wrapped around your delicate little finger. You're no better than anyone else, Princess."
"You're fee to think about me what you wish, Miss Baynum, but it's Kay-Kay you should be concerned about right now."
"You make me sick," Maryann sniffed. "Be honest. You didn't know about me or about my marriage to Perry. This is tearing you apart, yet there you stand, so prim and proper, when you and I both know you're neither. The fact that Kay-Kay isn't Perry's makes you very happy and self-satisfied, doesn't it?"
Della studied Maryann Baynum with deeply sad eyes. "You couldn't be more wrong," she said quietly. "I wish to God Kay-Kay was Perry's daughter. Because if she was, we would have taken her from you years ago."
Maryann Baynum blinked, her bravado shaken for a split second. "As if I would let the likes of you raise my daughter."
"You wouldn't have had any say in the matter." Della and smoothed down her skirt for something to occupy shaking hands. "Perry is a very good attorney."
"No court would award a child to a man and his mistress," Maryann Baynum hissed.
"If Perry was Kay-Kay's father, current reality would not exist." Della blinked rapidly several times. "You were given a precious gift, Miss Baynum, despite the circumstances, and you spurned it. You may think of Kay-Kay as the 'destroyer of all', but it's no one's fault but your own that you'll be all alone in this rotting house from this day forward."
She turned to leave, took a few steps, then stopped. "Miss Baynum," she said without facing the older woman. "Was your step-brother really Kay-Kay's father, or is Bert Keating her father? And did he want a divorce so he could marry you?"
Maryann Baynum was silent, unable to answer. Della finally turned back to meet the coldest, bluest eyes she had ever seen.
"And yet you stand in judgment of my life choices," she said.
Perry Mason was standing at the curb beside his automobile, watching the unmarked police car drive away with Kay-Kay Baynum. She had not calmed one iota on the long walk from the house to the waiting police car, and it had nearly killed him to disengage the death grip she had on his hand so that the juvenile authorities could take custody of her. He found himself wiping his eyes as Tragg settled the hysterical girl in the car, her arms outstretched toward him imploringly, her childish, heartbreaking apologies and promises to be good and not 'ruin' anything ever again finally muffled by the closing of the door. Without embarrassment of any sort, the two men stood back and regarded each other with obvious tears staining their cheeks.
"I'll make sure she's okay," Tragg assured him in a choked voice. He took off toward his own automobile, jumped behind the wheel, gunned the engine to life, and pulled away from the curb in pursuit of the unmarked Sacramento police car.
He didn't hear Della approach from behind, but wasn't startled one little bit when she slid her arms around his waist and settled herself virtually in his armpit. He hugged her close and rested his chin on the top of her head, his hands caressing her back more to soothe himself than her.
"I would have taken her from Maryann if she had been mine," he said, his blue eyes weary and tormented as he continued to stare after the police car.
Della reached up and trailed gentle fingers across his cheek, wiping away a lingering tear.