The Case of the Meddling Attorney

Chapter 9

1

The jumbo jet airliner picked up speed as it traveled down the runway. Robert Ironside watched out the window as the plane lifted into the air. San Francisco became smaller and smaller as the jet headed upward toward it's cruising altitude.

The detective pondered what he was going to do about his aunt. He warned her numerous times about messing in police business, and yet it hadn't made any impression on her. He thought she would have learned when she almost lost her life investigating the adoption agency. The ordeal in the Tower during the earthquake should have reminded her how dangerous Ironside's job could be.

He dearly loved his aunt. She was an extremely intelligent individual, and he knew she cared about him. The commissioner's patience were wearing thin, and it would soon become a problem for him as well as her. He was afraid Dennis Randall would take action on his own. Ironside had to avoid that and protect his aunt at the same time. Somehow, he had to get through to her. She had to quit playing amateur detective.

Once again, she was playing with fire. Roland Hubbard was a murderer. She knew fully well that he got out of prison by killing the guard and putting on his uniform to walk right past the guards at the front gate. Why in the world would she want to tangle with Hubbard? Ironside didn't understand what she thought she could accomplish. Hubbard would kill her without a second thought. He had no conscience, and he had no scruples. It wouldn't matter to him that she was an elderly woman. In fact, he would probably enjoy it, knowing that she was Ironside's aunt.

"Chief," Ed said, "we'll find Victoria before Hubbard does."

The detective knew that he's sergeant was just trying to soothe his worry. Although, he appreciated it, nothing would keep him from worrying until he found her and took her back to San Francisco. Maybe, a few days in jail would cure her inquisitive mind when it came to police business. He didn't know what else to do.

The only response he gave Brown was to nod in acknowledgment. There really wasn't anything to say.

Once they had reached their cruising altitude, the flight attendant began rolling the cart down the aisle. When it reached the detective, he had a mind to order him a drink, but decided against it. He needed a clear head when he arrived in Atlanta. They had to find Victoria quickly. As much as he hated to admit it, she was smart enough to follow any clues that might lead her to Hubbard. He simply had to find her first.

Ironside requested a soft drink. Ed and Mark followed his lead and did the same. Neither spoke to him for the rest of the flight. They knew when to leave the detective to his thoughts.

When the plane touched down in Atlanta, the flight attendant came back to the detective. "Chief Ironside, we are going to have you and your people deplane with the first class passengers." Turning her attention to Ed and Mark, she said, "If you gentlemen will help your boss into his chair, we'll send you through the first class section."

Fortunately, the airlines always left seats in the front row for handicapped passengers. Mark stood up, grabbed Ironside's wheelchair, and opened it. He made no attempt to help his boss into his chair. He knew better. Mark removed the arm of the chair closest to Ironside, who then transferred himself into the wheelchair. Sanger pushed him into the first class section where the emergency door was already open. He pushed his boss out of the plane onto a lift that would lower him to the tunnel leading into the airport.

Chief Ironside remained quiet as they moved through the airport. Normally, he would wheel himself, but on this occasion, he allowed Mark to do it. His mind was still on the safety of his Aunt Victoria. When they arrived in the luggage area, Ironside informed his colleagues, "Our baggage should be coming down on number three."

Ed smiled at Mark. To look at the chief, one would think he wasn't paying any attention to his surroundings, yet he had already checked to see which carrousel they needed to go to in order to pick up their suitcases. They went over to the number three. The carrousel was already full of suitcases from their flight. Ironside left it to Mark and Ed to pull their luggage down when it came around. Both men would spot them without his help. Mark spotted them first. Nudging Ed, he reached for the first one. Brown stepped up and helped pull down the rest.

"Chief Ironside?"

The detective turned to see a man in plain clothes. His trained eye told him the man was a cop. "That's right, I'm Ironside."

The man pulled his police ID out of his suit and displayed it to Ironside. "I'm Captain Mel Harrison. Your policewoman – I believe her name was Officer Whitfield, anyway she called, told me you were coming, and asked if I would assist you if at all possible."

Ironside held back a smile. Eve wasn't allowed to join him on this trip, so she was making sure he had the assistance of the local police department. The chief would have done that himself as soon as they were settled. Now, he didn't have to. His very efficient policewoman had taken care of it for him. "Thank you." He pointed at Ed. "This is Sergeant Brown and Mark Sanger. They work for me."

Harrison shook hands with them and then said, "I understand you are looking for your aunt," Harrison said.

"That's right." Ironside reached into his pocket and pulled out a picture of Victoria Ironside. "Can you put out an APB on her and have her picked up on sight?"

Captain Harrison took the picture from Ironside, pulled his phone out of his pocket, and took a picture of it. He then emailed it to police headquarters with orders to put out the APB. When he was done, Harrison turned his attention back to the California detective. "It will go out right away. Your officer didn't tell me why you are looking for her."

"My aunt fancies herself an amateur detective. She is way over her head on this one," Ironside told him. "She's looking for Roland Hubbard. He escaped prison by killing his guard, putting on his uniform and walking right out the front gate. I have to find her before she finds Hubbard."

"I read something about that. Wasn't he the one that was with Frank Hunt who had you trapped in the Tower building – the one that collapsed?"

"He was believed to be in the building, but I never saw him. The only indication that he was there was a dead police officer at the entrance. We believe we have traced him here to Atlanta, or that my aunt has."

"Does he have any known associates here that you know of?"

"Someone had to help him get out of San Francisco. I had the city bottled up, but he still managed to get out. I believe the man that did that was Baron Stover."

Harrison gave his a concerned look. "He just was found not guilty of killing a woman. He's extremely wealthy. Lives in a mansion behind iron gates. Believe me; we have been trying to get that son-of-a-bitch for years. We thought we had him. He was convicted even though Ben Matlock defended him, but he appealed and got another trial. That jury turned him loose. I believe the evidence was tampered with. We are still looking for the cop that did it."

"Do you have his address?" Ed Brown asked.

"I know it by memory." Captain Harrison pulled out a small notebook and wrote the address down. Handing it to Brown, he told Ironside, "After your policewoman called, I took the liberty of finding you a van equipped like the one you use in San Francisco."

"Thank you, Captain," Ironside said. It was not something he had been expecting. It would certainly make things a bit easier for him. "I appreciate that."

"The van is black and is right outside the exit doors." He pointed in the direction where the van was parked. "It is equipped so you can drive it as well, Chief. If you need anything, just call me. I wrote my number on the paper I just gave your sergeant." Harrison handed the keys to the van to Mark, knowing from everything he learned about Ironside, that the young man was his aide and driver. He shook Ironside's hand and left them.

"Your notoriety comes in handy, Chief," Ed said.

"Well, Chief. What will it be? Do we get settled in the hotel first or go see Baron Stover?" Mark asked.

"Since I suspect Hubbard would have looked up Stover, we go there first. We can get settled later." They headed out of the airport, located the van, and within a couple minutes, they were on the road.

2

Ben Matlock sat in his car outside of Baron Stover's mansion. It was driving him to distraction that the man got away with murder. He as much as admitted he did it. Knowing he couldn't be tried again, Stover had nothing to lose. He essentially got away with murder. Ben had been doing some checking into Stover's affairs. The officer who claimed to have found the "new evidence" was seen with Stover's lawyer, Jonathan Dillard only a couple days before he testified. He would naturally say it was to go over the officer's testimony. The fact they did it in a little greasy spoon in the worst section of Atlanta was suspect. What was even more suspect was the waitress saw Dillard hand Officer Sean Rockwell a rather thick envelope. Ben suspected it was full of money. The officer had been paid off, Matlock was sure of it. Baron Stover certainly had the money to do so. If the envelope had indeed contained a large amount of money, than Rockwell accepted a bribe to alter the evidence.

Ben Matlock was going to find out. Stover may have gotten out of the murder charge, but the courts took a hard line against those who bribed their way out of murder charges. Ben was going to prove it. Stover would at least go to jail for bribing his attorney and the police officer. He was going to see to it.

Reaching down, Matlock pulled the coffee out of the holder and sipped it. Making a face of disapproval, he set it back down. He much preferred his own coffee to Starbucks. He had stopped there to pick up a cup of the brew since he was too far from his house to stop and make a pot.

He looked up to see a man leaving Stover's mansion. He was moving rather swiftly down the driveway toward the iron gates. When he arrived at the gates, he pressed a button and they opened. He didn't take the time to close them again. He didn't run, but he was moving very quickly. He headed down the street and disappeared around the corner. Ben thought about following him, but decided since the gate was open; he could get in to see Baron Stover. He was going to confront him about what he expected was money that passed between his attorney and the officer whom he figured tempered with the evidence. Matlock reached under his shirt to make sure that the wire he was wearing would record everything that was said. It might not hold up in court, but at least it would get the police looking in the right direction. He was going to nail Stover one way or another!

Matlock got out of his vehicle, crossed the street, and walked through the iron gates. He went up the long driveway, and as he reached the door, it wasn't even closed let alone locked. Whoever the man was who left in such a hurry, had left the door ajar. Ben decided to ring the doorbell anyway. Using his index finger, he pressed the button. He waited, but no one came to the door. He pressed it again with the same result. With the tips of his fingers, he pushed the door open. "Stover!" he called out. No one answered. Just where in the devil was the crook? Matlock called out his name a second time, then a third time. Still, no one came to the door or answered him. He entered the mansion. It seemed to be deserted. Ben was beginning to wonder if the man who just left was a petty burglar. Then again, where would he get the combination to open and close the iron gates? No, he had to be somebody that Stover knew. Matlock walk down the huge foyer of the mansion. Since he had been here before, he knew exactly where the study was. That is where he would head first. When he arrived at the door, it was closed. He took hold of the knob, turned it and opened the door. Once again he was met by complete silence. There didn't appear to be anybody in the room. On the floor, in front of the desk was a bookend. Ben picked it up and set it on the desk. It was then that he noticed the blood on the desk underneath the bookend.

That wasn't good. Where was the blood coming from? What went on here before he came in? He regretted picking up the bookend. He reached in his pocket for a handkerchief to wipe his prints from it. It was then he heard someone moan from behind the desk.

Matlock walked around the desk to see Baron Stover lying on the floor. He was just beginning to stir.

"Take it easy, Stover. Looks like somebody clobbered you. Did you see who did it?"

"What the hell do you mean who did it? Do you think I'm stupid? You hit me! How the hell did you get in here?"

"I didn't hit you, Stover. I walked right straight through the gate. It was open and so was your front door."

"That's a load of crap, Matlock. The gate and the front door are always kept locked."

"Apparently not this time." Matlock reached down to help Stover to his feet. He felt a stinging pain in the back of his head and his world went dark. He fell to the floor unconscious.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Stover said

"Giving you just exactly what you deserve." His assailant picked up the bookend and bludgeoned Baron Stover to death.

3

Mark Sanger pulled the borrowed van up in front of Baron Stover's mansion. Ironside was determined to find out if Stover knew where Roland Hubbard was. He had to be the reason Hubbard came to Atlanta Georgia. Ironside was certain that Stover helped and arranged to get him out of San Francisco.

He wheeled his chair onto the lift, pressed the button, and rode it to the pavement. Mark came around from the driver's side of the van, stepped behind the detective and began wheeling him toward the gate. Ed Brown walked on the right side of their boss. When they arrived at the gate, they noticed it was open.

"What do you say, Chief? Do we just go right in?" Mark said as he brought Ironside's chair to a halt.

"The gate is here for a purpose, Mark," the detective growled. "Would you just want somebody walking onto your property unannounced? Press the button and tell Stover we are here."

Mark pressed the button. After waiting a few moments, he looked over at Ironside. "It doesn't appear anyone is home."

"Rich people do not leave their gates open when they go away," Ironside said. "Try it again."

Mark pressed the button again with the same results.

"I don't like it." Ironside looked up at Ed. "Let's go in. Draw your service revolver."

Brown removed his gun from its holster and moved in front of Ironside and Sanger. They went up the long driveway to the front door of the house.

"It's open, Chief," Brown said.

"Now, I really don't like it." Ironside drew his own service revolver. "Let's go."

Sergeant Brown went in ahead of them. Mark pushed Ironside's chair over the threshold. They came up to the living room on the right side of the foyer. Ironside motioned for Ed to go ahead of him. He stayed behind him to back him up. After checking the living room, Brown discovered it was empty. He came out and shook his head. They continued down the foyer. There was a door open on the right-hand side. They could hear somebody groaning from inside. Again, Ironside covered Ed as he went into the room. They immediately noticed a white haired man lying on the floor. Ben Matlock turned over and sat up, rubbing the back of his head.

Looking beyond him, Brown spotted a man on the floor. There was a pool of blood around his head, which was unrecognizable. On the floor beside him was a book end. It too, was covered in blood. Brown bent down and checked the pulse on the man, knowing that there wasn't any chance he was alive. He turned to Ironside and shook his head.

"Ben, what are you doing here?" Ironside asked.

Matlock looked at Stover, or who he thought was Stover. His eyes widened at the site. "Is he . . ."

"Dead," Ed Brown said.

"Did you kill him?" Ironside asked Matlock.

"What? Of course not." Matlock's tone was indignant. He reached down toward the bookend.

"Don't touch that!" Ironside shouted.

"I didn't intend to touch it. I simply wanted to see if it was the same book end that I picked up earlier."

"You handled that book end?" Ed Brown said incredulously.

"For God's sakes, Ben, you know better than to touch anything where there has been a homicide," Ironside chastised the lawyer.

"I found the gate in the front door open. When I came in, I found Stover on the floor. He was unconscious, but stirred when I spoke to him. He thought that I was the one that hit him. I told him I didn't do it. The next thing I knew the lights went out. I woke up when you came in."

"How did you come to touch the bookend?" Ironside asked him.

"It was on the floor when I came in. I didn't see Stover at first because he was behind the desk. I spotted the book end on the floor and picked it up. I set it on the desk. It was then that I noticed it was covered with blood. I walked around the desk and saw Stover on the floor."

"All right. I think it would look better if you called in," Ironside said.

"Call in?" Matlock still appeared to be dazed.

"The police. This is a homicide scene, wouldn't you agree?" Ironside said sarcastically.

Matlock reached for the phone. Sergeant Brown grabbed his hand. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. Handing it to Matlock, he said, "I think it would be better if you made the call from this."

Matlock dialed the long ago memorized phone number of the Atlanta Police department. "This is Ben Matlock. I want to report a homicide."

While he was talking to the police, Ironside wheeled his chair backwards and indicated for Ed to follow him. "This doesn't look good," he said to his sergeant.

Brown gave him a confused look. "I don't understand, Chief. What is the problem? He is a well-known attorney. He obviously unknowingly walked into the homicide. There shouldn't be any problem."

"You obviously haven't been following the news down here in Atlanta, "Mark said. He probably wouldn't have either except that Ironside would bring in newspapers from Atlanta after Ben Matlock helped him out with the internal affairs investigation on him, while Perry Mason defended Alexandra Hughes from a murder she didn't commit. Since then, Ironside followed Ben Matlock's cases.

"No, why would I follow Atlanta newspapers?" Brown wondered.

"Ben represented Stover in a murder trial. He was convicted. Stover claimed that Ben threw the trial. He hired another attorney, appealed, and had a second trial. The jury found him not guilty."

"I don't see what that has to do with this," Brown said.

"That depends entirely on what Ben has been doing since Stover was turned loose."

"Chief, are you saying that Matlock did throw the trial knowing he was guilty?" Brown inquired.

"No, I don't believe he would do that for a second. I do believe he could believe he was actually guilty. It could account for the reason that he is here right now. We'll need to find out what the blazes he's been doing since Stover was released."

"We?" Mark said. "Chief, we are here to find your aunt. This has nothing to do with us. Don't you think you should let the Atlanta Police department handle it?"

"We can do both, Mark. Ben helped me out, and now he may need help."

Ed thought about the chief's remark. Whenever someone tried to thank him for something he did for them, he brushed it off by saying it was his job. Yet, when someone did something for him, he felt he owed them. Sergeant Brown knew they would now be embroiled into another case. He wondered what the commissioner was going to say when he found out. He didn't like Robert Ironside out of San Francisco solving other police department's case when they had plenty in their own city.

Ironside wheeled back over to Ben Matlock who had completed his call and was holding Ed's cell phone in his hand. "Ben, I think you better tell me what happened before the police get here."

"I told you, Chief." Matlock handed Ed's phone back to him.

"I'm not talking about what happened here. I'm talking about the case, Ben. You believed Stover was guilty, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did, but I didn't throw the case, Chief. I have never thrown a case in my life, and I have no intention of doing it now." Matlock's voice was rising.

"Easy, Ben. I am just trying to get the facts before the police arrive. The conviction was overturned in a second trial, wasn't it?" Ironside actually already knew the answer.

"Yes. Somehow, Stover got to a police officer who planted evidence – the very evidence that got him off. The lawyer is a shyster. He is known for skirting the legal line, and believe me; he doesn't hesitate to cross it either."

Ironside thought of another lawyer who skirted the legal line. The difference was his brother, the famous Perry Mason didn't cross that line, but Ironside knew he came damn close to it at times. Despite that, Perry only defended innocent clients. If they were guilty, he would plea bargain their case. He wouldn't be responsible for turning a murderer loose on society.

"What were you doing here?" Ironside repeated.

"I don't know," Matlock said in his southern drawl. "He already admitted he killed her, well not in so many words, but he taunted me with it. I have been trying to get something on him to at least send him to prison where he belongs."

Ironside didn't like what he was hearing as it prompted his next question. "Did you have any confrontation with him since he was released?"

The color on Matlock's face drained. "Oh my God!"

It was exactly what Ironside feared. "Ben, did you threaten him in any way?"

Ben looked Ironside directly in the eye. "I said some things . . . " he didn't finish.

"And you picked up the bookend?" Ironside asked, already knowing he had.

"Yes. Chief, but I didn't kill him. I have told you the truth."

"I believe you, but I doubt the Atlanta Police are going to. They are going to claim you were stalking him, threatened him, and then came here and killed him. When the police get here, you tell them you didn't kill him and say nothing further. Demand an attorney."

Matlock sat down in the chair in front of Stover's desk. "What a mess."

"Do you have an attorney you can call?" Ironside asked.

"My daughter, Leanne. She's a damn good attorney. She works with me."

Ed!"

Brown stepped forward and again handed Matlock his phone. Ben dialed his office.

"Ben Matlock's office," Leanne answered.

"Leanne . . . "

Before he could say anything else, his daughter interrupted him. She could tell by the tone of his voice something was drastically wrong. "Dad, what is it? What's wrong?"

"I am going to need an attorney. Can you come over to Baron Stover's mansion?"

"Stover? Dad, what have you got yourself into?" she demanded.

"Just come, Leanne. Baron Stover is dead."

"Oh no! You didn't . . . "

"Of course not, but it looks bad."

"I'm on my way. I'll bring Conrad with me too." She hung up the phone.

They could hear the sirens in the distance. Within a few minutes several uniformed police officers were swarming into the office. "Everyone out of the room," one of them shouted.

Captain Mel Harrison walked into the study. "You heard the man. Everyone out." He looked over at Robert Ironside. "Well, Chief, I didn't expect to see you so soon. What are you doing here?"

"You should know the answer to that question," Ironside said.

"Yeah, I guess I do. Suppose you tell me what went on here?"

"We came in, that is my sergeant and aide. We found Matlock on the floor just beginning to stir. Then we saw Stover. Matlock called the police."

"What was he doing here?" the captain asked.

"Isn't that a question better answered by Matlock?" Ironside said.

"Okay, you and you boys can wait outside. Jeremy, go with them. I want all principles involved held until we sort this out," the captain ordered.

"I would like to stay," Ironside said.

"Sorry, Chief. You are a potential witness."

Ironside turned his chair around and wheeled out of the room. He didn't like it, but what choice did he have?

Harrison watched him go. He walked over to the body and noticed the bloody bookend on the floor. He glanced at the blood on the desk and noticed the blood on the floor in front of the desk as well. "Bag that, but don't touch it. It looks like it is the murder weapon." The officer went to work. Harrison bent down and examined the body. The man's skull was smashed in. Someone either wanted to make sure he was unrecognizable, or while in a rage was unable to stop clobbering him." The body was still warm so Harrison figured he was killed within the hour. That put Matlock right there at the scene.

The forensic team poured into the room and went to work. Harrison left the study and went out into the foyer. He walked over to Ben Matlock. "Okay, Ben, what happened?"

"I didn't kill him if that is what you were thinking. I found him unconscious. He came around and then I was clobbered. That is about all I can remember." Then he remembered. "When I entered the room, I pick up the bookend and placed it on the desk. It was then I noticed it was covered in blood."

The captain gave him a skeptical look. "Where was the bookend when you first saw it?"

"On the floor in front of the desk," Matlock answered.

"And you didn't see the blood that was on it and the floor?"

Matlock could tell by the tone of his voice he didn't believe him. Ironside was right, and as an attorney Ben should have known better. "No, I didn't. I have told you what I saw and did when I came in, and that is all I am going to say.

Luanne burst into the mansion, arguing with the police officers who were assigned the task of guarding the front door. When Harrison saw who it was, he sighed. That was it. Between Matlock clamming up and the arrival of his lawyer daughter, he wasn't going to get anything more out of him. "Let her in, Officer."

"What's going on here, Captain Harrison?" Luanne said as Conrad McMasters entered the foyer.

"What do you think this is? A party? Outside, McMasters. Now! You are not an attorney," Harrison said. Conrad had no choice but to wait outside. "As far as what is going on, I have asked Mr Matlock that exact question."

"I have said all I am going to say," Matlock said. "I told you everything I know."

"Is my client free to go?" Leanne demanded.

"For now, but make sure you don't leave town, Mr Matlock."

Leanne and Ben joined Conrad outside.

"Not you, Chief. I am not done with you or your people," Harrison said when Ironside turned his chair toward the door and began to wheel toward it.

"We have told you everything we know, Captain," Ironside said. "Your men have questioned Ed and Mark."

"And they gave them the same story you gave me."

"What is that supposed to mean? Of course it was the same as what I told you. We all saw the same thing," Ironside growled.

"Chief, what you don't know is Matlock has been dogging Stover all over the place and has threatened him more than once. Then you find him with Stover's dead body, his head smashed in with a bookend Matlock claims to have picked up when he saw it on the floor. You're a cop and a damn good one. What would you think?"

"I think I would consider him a suspect, but I wouldn't go accusing him of anything until all the facts were in," Ironside said.

"That is exactly what I intend to do," Captain Harrison said.

"Wait until all the facts are in or accuse him before they are?" Ironside growled.

Harrison's face turned red. "You and your people can go, Chief Ironside. I will expect you to call the station when you have settled into a hotel and let us know where you are. Oh, and don't leave Atlanta. You all are material witnesses."

Oh great, the commissioner is going to love this," Ed thought. He and Mark followed the chief out of the mansion.

Leanne left her Conrad and her father, hurrying over to Ironside. "Chief?"

"He's in big trouble, Leanne. They are going to find his fingerprints all over that bookend, and I am sure you know he has been following Stover around. Captain Harrison said he threatened him on more than one occasion."

"I was afraid of that. He has been acting really strange lately. Conrad was following him, and he ditched his tail."

"As soon as they prove his fingerprints are on that bookend, they will book him for murder. You are going to have to defend him. Ben says you're an excellent attorney. You better be. You are going to be up against a wall of evidence against him," Ironside told her.

"I'm good, Chief, but he needs better than me. Would you call him for us?" she asked.

"Call who?" Ironside said.

"Your brother. Dad needs the best, and your brother is the best. Please, Chief Ironside, call Perry Mason?"