The Case of the Innocent Cat Burglar
Chapter 14
1
Roy Flynn looked out the window of his office. The worry on his face was evident. He had just hung up the phone. The news had not been good. Roy had been hoping for a quick trial ending in a guilty verdict for Jack Brace. With William Adair handling his defense, Roy was certain that was exactly what was going to happen. Although Adair had a good reputation, he was rather inexperienced. Flynn was elated when he found out Brace fired the esteemed Perry Mason.
With Mason out of the way, Adair did not have the skills of the famous attorney. Nor did he have an investigative pro like Paul Drake. As a result, Roy didn't think his activities would come to light. Over the years, he had made a tidy profit with the paintings that Jack Brace had stolen for him. He hadn't kept any of them, rather opting to resell them on the black market. His business ventures with Brace head made him a very comfortable living.
Now all of that was in danger of being exposed due to the fact that Perry Mason had been rehired by Jack Brace to defend him. Roy was not kidding himself. Perry Mason was a dangerous individual to have snooping into his business. The man had a tremendous reputation for bulldozing over anybody who got in his way of defending a client. He didn't care who he hurt and how he did it. Just as long as his client was acquitted of the crime they were accused of, Mason would use anything and everything at his disposal to protect them. How long would it be before he came knocking on Roy's door?
Flynn stood up and walked over to his filing cabinet. He pulled open the bottom drawer all the way to the back. Removing the last file, he stepped over to his desk. Sitting back down in his executive chair, he opened the file and began reading. He smiled at the information he had recorded over the years. Roy had been able to obtain some of the most valuable and sought-after paintings in the world. With Steve Edwards dead, he had mistakenly thought he had nothing to worry about. Edwards could no longer blackmail him.
Flynn would have to wait until everything died down before he could obtain anymore stolen paintings. Looking down the list, he still couldn't believe the paintings that he had been able to get his hands on. Beside each painting was the amount of money that he purchased them and the amount he sold them for. Most of that money was now hidden safely in an overseas account. He only kept enough of it in a Los Angeles bank that he could account for with his job. When he needed money, he would have it wired and then laundered through an account to avoid leaving a trail for the police, or in this case a private detective such as Paul Drake. Drake was good, there was no doubt about that. Mason wouldn't use him otherwise.
As he continued to stare at the file in front of him, he realized how incriminating it would be for him if it got into the hands of the police, or Paul Drake. That was something he couldn't allow to happen. Picking up the file, Flynn walked over to the paper shredder. He began dropping the papers into it one by one. He watched as the jagged teeth of the shredder tore the papers into long, thin strings that would never be able to be put together again. After all, he didn't need to keep this file. He had it on a flash drive that was well hidden in his home. No one would ever find it. When the time came, he could always access it by putting the flash drive into the computer. This way there would never be a written record of the paintings he had bought and sold. It was a safety protection that had become necessary.
Roy thought about his association with Steve Edwards. Was there anything in the background that Paul Drake or Perry Mason could find to tie him to the thief? More importantly, could they find anything that would turn him directly to Jack Brace?
Jack Brace . . . he was far more concerned about him than he was about Steve Edwards. He had no idea if Brace kept records of the people he had stolen for. Obviously, no one could get to him to silence him. What if he made a deal with the police? Would Roy then be tied to the man's activities.
He was certain Mason had become a liability that needed to be dealt with. It was time he talk to the others. Something definitely had to be done about Perry Mason. He was the one person who had the ability to blow the entire situation completely out of control.
Roy actually didn't care about the others. He only cared about protecting himself from prosecution. Then again, if the district attorney's office had gone ahead and charged him with first-degree murder, Jack Brace obviously had not made a deal with Hamilton Burger. Did that mean he was worrying for nothing? Roy really did not know what to do.
2
Della Street opened the door to Perry Mason's office and walked in. The lawyer looked up from his paperwork. "Yes, Della, what is it?"
Without answering his question, she walked over to his desk. With a puzzled look on her face, she said, "City Councilman Donald Fredendall is here to see you."
Mason frowned. "I don't recall an appointment with the councilman. What does he want?"
"He doesn't have an appointment, but he insists on seeing you. As far as what he wants, he wouldn't tell me. He said he would only speak with you."
Mason tapped the pen in his hand on the desk. "Della, I'm in the middle of a murder trial. I have to concentrate on that. Ask him to make an appointment at a later date."
Before she could respond, the door to Mason's office opened and Donald Fredendall walked in. He was followed into the office by a very exasperated Gertie.
"Mason, I am not accustomed to having to wait," Fredendall complained.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Mason. I couldn't stop him." Gertie threw her hands in the air.
Mason smiled at his receptionist. "It is all right, Gertie." That seemed to soothe her, and she left his office, closing the door on the way out.
Mason turned his attention to the councilman. "Mr. Fredendall, I am not accustomed to people barging into my office. Nor do I appreciate it. I could very well have had a client in here. What is so important, that you couldn't wait to be announced?"
"I don't care how busy you are. We have a matter to discuss."
"I will do so with you this time. However, do not ever barge into my office again." Mason made it very clear through his tone of voice that he would never tolerate it again.
"I don't particularly care whether you like it or not, Mason. This is important. Why have you taken over the case for Jack Brace?"
"I'm sorry, but I will not discuss that with you."
"You damn well will!" He looked over at Della Street and snarled, "But not with her in the office. I don't want any witnesses to this conversation."
Della raised her eyebrows. She knew that wasn't going to go over well with Perry.
"Miss Street is my confidential secretary. She sits in on all of my conversations. The fact that you don't want the conversation overheard by her only makes her presence in this office more important. I suggest you say what it is you came here to say and then leave, Mister Fredendall."
"That's Councilman," he said indignantly.
"If you want me to respect your title, then I suggest you stop calling me Mason."
"Fair enough. Now I want to know why you are going to represent Brace again?"
Mason shook his head. "And I already told you I would not discuss that with you."
"You don't understand. I unknowingly purchased several paintings of considerable value from Jack Brace. I had no idea the man was crooked. I don't think you know what you're getting yourself into. There are people that are not going to let you investigate this."
"Is that a threat?" Mason asked.
"No, Mason, it's not a threat. I'm just telling you the way it is."
"If you bought paintings that were stolen, I highly recommend that you contact the police and turn them over to them. They will see to it that they get back to the rightful owners," Mason suggested.
"I can't do that. I paid a considerable amount of money for them. As far as I am concerned, they are mine. I simply came here to appeal to you to drop Jack Brace as a client. He will be convicted if you are not handling his case."
"And of course, it makes no difference to you that the man very well could be innocent of the charge? "
"Oh hell, Mason, he is plenty guilty of a lot of other things. Let him go to jail."
"Should I let him be executed as well?" Mason stared directly into the eyes of the city councilman.
"What difference does it make? He's a crook. Will your ego be bruised if you don't win a case?"
Mason stood up. "You said what you came here to say. So, I would suggest you leave my office."
"What about Brace? Are you going to drop the case?"
"I am afraid that is no concern of yours. Miss Street will show you the way out. Good day, Fredendall."
It did not get past the councilman that Mason referred to him by his last name only. He stood up and headed for the door. "I don't need to be shown the way out. I know where the door is." He turned back and looked at the attorney. "You will regret this, Mason. I can make your life a living hell."
"I look forward to it," Mason said. He watched as the councilman left his office and slammed the door. "Della, get Paul down here immediately."
Street picked up the phone and dialed Paul Drake's office. She waited while it rang. After a moment, she said, "If Mr. Drake is in, Mr. Mason would like to see him immediately." She continued to listen for a moment and then hung up the phone. "Paul will be right down."
Della no more got the words out of her mouth then there was a knock on the door. It was Paul Drake's special code knock.
Della Street gracefully walked over to the door and opened it to a smiling Paul Drake.
"Hello, Beautiful," Drake said as he entered the office. He went directly over to the overstuffed chair and sat down. He rested his back against the arm of the chair on one side and threw his long legs over the arm of the other side.
"So, what's up, Perry?" Drake asked.
"I just had a visit from one of our esteemed councilman. Do you know who Donald Fredendall is?"
"Yeah, I know who he is," Drake replied. "He's the little weasel that votes with two other little weasels on the council."
Mason smiled. Paul never held back the way he felt. "That's the one."
"So what did he want? I hope you're not going to ask me to do any investigating for him. I don't know what his problem is, but I suggest you let him handle it himself. It is only a matter of time before someone catches him breaking the law."
"I have a feeling that he already has," Mason said. He told Drake how the councilman had demanded that he drop Jack Brace's case, and about the paintings he had purchased which Mason believed were stolen, and that Fredendall did it knowingly.
"So, what do you want me to do, Perry?"
Mason sat forward in his chair. "I want to know why the councilman threatened me. I want to know who are the people who are not going to be happy with my defense of Jack Brace. Find out who Fredendall has been associating with. I want to know if he has been dealing with any large sums of money and where it has been going. He wouldn't have threatened me unless he is involved in purchasing a lot of stolen paintings. Since he made the threat that there are others out there who would not appreciate me defending Jack Brace, I am betting he is tied to them as well. In other words . . . "
"You want his life story." Drake continued writing notes into his notebook which he always carried in his pocket. "Anything else?"
"Have you come up with anything on Tommy?" Mason asked.
"Nothing that we don't already know. The kid was pulled into his father's occupation for a while, but I am certain that he has stopped. Basically, he is a pretty smart kid. He rebelled against his father for a while when he realized what he was doing for a living. It looks like the thefts that he did were simply to get back at his father."
"Then as far as you're concerned, he is clear of having anything to do with Steve Edwards' murder?"
"I think we can safely drop him off the suspect list," Paul said.
"All right then. I'll let you get back to work."
Drake put the notebook and pen back into his suit coat pocket. He swung his legs down to the floor and stood up. "You'll be hearing from me as soon as I have something for you." Drake walked swiftly over to the private entrance of Mason's office. He opened the door and left.
The phone on Mason's desk rang. Della reached over and picked up the receiver. "Yes, Gertie."
"Miss Street, there is another city councilman here to see Mr. Mason."
Della looked over at Perry and raised an eyebrow. "Which city councilman?"
"Bill Mozat," she answered.
Della looked over at Mason and again raised her eyebrows, questioning whether Perry wanted to see the councilman. When Mason nodded at her, Della told Gertie, "Send him in."
"Della, go into the law library and call Paul's office. If he hasn't already left, ask him to hold on. We may have another councilman for him to investigate."
His ever efficient secretary stood up, went into the law library, but left the door slightly ajar. The door to Perry's office opened, and Gertie walked in with Bill Mozat.
"Mason, I want to talk to you." Mozat rushed over to his desk. Using his index finger, he tapped on the desk.
"When people want to consult me, it is customary to make an appointment." Mason, who had stood up the moment the councilman walked into his office, did not offer his hand. Nor did the councilman.
"I don't have time to sit around and wait in your lobby, Mason. I'm a busy man," he snarled.
"So am I, Mr. Mozat. So, tell me what it is you want to see me about."
Mozat watched as Della re-entered the office from the law library. He looked back at Mason. "This is private conversation, Mason. She'll have to leave."
"Miss Street is my confidential secretary. She makes a record of every conversation that takes place in this office," Mason informed him.
"I don't want you to record any of this conversation. Tell her to leave the room."
"That is all the more reason for her to keep a record of this exchange. She stays or this conversation is at an end."
Placing his knuckles on the edge of Mason's desk, he said angrily, "You think you can do anything you want, don't you? Well, I got news for you. I can make your life miserable. You drop Jack Brace or I promise you, I will do exactly that."
Keeping his demeanor calm, the lawyer said, "You are not in the position to tell me who I can and cannot represent. What are you afraid of, Councilman? What are you hiding?" Mason asked.
Ignoring Masons questions, Councilman Mozat headed for the door. "You will regret this, Mason." He walked out and slammed the door.
"That is the second time today I have been threatened by one of our city councilmen," Mason said.
"What do you suppose is going on?" Della asked him.
"I don't know, Della. I can tell you one thing; I intend to find out."
"I don't understand. If either of them actually are involved with purchasing stolen paintings, why would they rush into your office and bring themselves to your attention?"
"I don't know that either. Maybe they actually thought they could influence me to drop the case. There is something suspect about the way they handled it."
Once again, Paul's code knock sounded on Mason's private office door. Della walked over and opened it. Drake smiled and entered. "Della says you have another councilman you want investigated."
"That's right. Check out Councilman Mozat. That makes two members of the city council who have threatened me today. I want to know why, Paul. Find out what their connection is to this case."
"Anything else?" Drake asked.
"No, that'll be it. For now."
After the private detective left the office, Mason got up and walked over to his secretary. "We need to get to work. I have to decide who I am going to call as defense witnesses. I think we'll start with two of our city councilmen. We'll have subpoenas issued in the morning."
"Perry, if we are going to work late, you don't suppose you could feed me first?" She stood before him with a smile.
Mason looked at his watch. It is getting rather late, isn't it. I'll tell you what, we'll go across the street and get some dinner. Then we'll come back here and get some work done." Mason put his arms around his secretary. "After that, who knows, maybe it'll still be early enough for a little romance."
The smile returned to Della's face. "In the middle of a trial? That'll be the day." She picked up the papers on his desk and transferred them to the table. "Well, Counselor, shall we get started?"