Disclaimer: I own no rights to Perry Mason or related characters or trademarks. That aside…
A/N: I'm sorry I've taken so long to update. Between writer's block and homework, it's been hard finding time to continue. Thank you for all the reviews while I was putting this story on hiatus.
monica100: It's good to hear from you again. I hope you enjoy this next chapter, and feel free to comment again anytime you'd like.
BeccaRamsey: Thank you for your comments. It's good to get a fresh perspective on this story.
remark: I'm glad you're enjoying this. I hope you'll like the next chapters just as much.
Paul Drake held his breath as the click of the doorknob sounded. The door slowly creeped open, and Drake could feel warm breath on his face. A man's face looked into his.
"Hey? What are you…!"
Drake's adrenaline rushed. He acted solely on instinct. Without thinking, he brought his fist crashing into the other man's face.
The man stumbled back, and Drake burst out of the closet. The man held out a broad arm to stop Drake from fleeing. Drake crashed into the arm and then swung around to throw another punch. He hit square on the nose, causing the man to stumble back again. As Drake again tried to flee, the other man threw out a leg, tripping Drake and causing him to stumble to the ground.
Drake crawled towards the front door, only to be stopped by a swift kick to the side. Drake collapsed onto his back, cringing in pain. The other man's brawny leg swung out to kick Drake again. This time, Drake caught the other man by the foot and twisted it. The other man howled. Drake then pushed the foot back, causing the man to fall with a thud onto his back. Drake walked over to the man and kicked him. The man fell back, grimaced, and then attempted to rise to his feet again. Drake kneed the man in the face, knocking him back into the ground. He then crawled on top of the man and began firing rapid punches into the man's face.
Even beneath the rapidly flowing adrenaline, something in Drake's brain cried out to him. He had invaded this house. He had no right to be here. He had no idea who he was beating up. And, even being acquainted with the best lawyer in L.A., Drake couldn't afford a lawsuit.
As Drake paused to ponder this, a fist darted up and struck him in the nose. Drake took it like a man.
The two men now breathed heavily as they studied each other from behind bloody lips and noses.
"Who are you?" asked Drake.
"I'll ask the questions here," said the other man. "Who are you?"
"Fair enough." The other man showed concern as Drake reached towards his coat pocket. "I'm just looking for my badge. You can take it for me, if you'd like."
"Are you a cop?" The man didn't say it with any kind of fear or contempt. It was just a casual question. Drake shook his head.
"Private investigator. I work for a man named Perry Mason."
"The famous lawyer? What does he want from me?"
"Nothing. I'm not even sure who you are. I'm looking for a woman named Janet Redding. Does she live here?"
The other man nodded.
"I'm Bradley Smythe," he said. "You can just call me Brad. I'm Janet's fiancé'."
The two men shook hands.
"How did you get in here?" asked Brad.
"The door was unlocked. Does Janet leave it that way often?" asked Drake.
"All the time. I keep trying to remind her to lock it. This can be a dangerous city. The girl's going to end up robbed or killed one of these days," said Brad.
"I hope not," said Drake.
"What does Perry Mason want with Janet?"
"I'm not quite sure," admitted Drake. "Mr. Mason believes Ms. Redding may be able to give testimony in the Helen Carmichael case."
"I've been following that case in the papers," remarked Brad. "I still don't see how Janet has anything to do with this."
"I don't either. All I know is that Mr. Mason would just like to talk to her. Do you have any idea where she is?"
"I was expecting to find her here myself," said Brad. "Maybe she's hanging around the theater."
"Movie theater?"
"No. Community theater. She's always auditioning or rehearsing there. Haven't you noticed all of her posters and playbills?"
Drake took another look at his surroundings. He now noticed the posters hanging on every wall. A crude sketch of a woman on a poster for "Oklahoma!" bore a strong resemblance to Janet Redding.
"She's an actress," continued Brad. "She's going to be a movie star."
"Can you tell me how to get to this theater?"
"I'll take you there right now if you want."
> > > > > >
Before getting in Bradley Smythe's car, Paul Drake made a telephone call to Perry Mason's office. After Mason listened to Drake's progress report and hung up, the phone rang again. Della Street lifted the receiver.
"Perry Mason's office," Della chimed. After nodding for a few moments, Della intoned, "Please hold on for a moment."
"A young woman that wants to have dinner with you," said Della. "When are you available?"
"That depends on the woman," replied Mason.
"Kay Silvers," said Della.
"In that case I'm free this evening."
> > > > > >
Perry Mason straightened his best black silk tie as he approached Kay Silvers at her table at LeFontaines. Kay was wearing a pale pink dress that brought out the color in her beautiful pink lips, now curled into a frown. Her blue eyes were solid, unwavering, and sexier than ever. She cut into a steak on a plate in front of her.
"You're late," said Kay coldly.
"Busy day at the office," said Mason. "Didn't Miss Street tell you I was squeezing you in?"
A waiter appeared at the table, carrying a bottle of fine wine.
"Another bottle," said the waiter. "Just as you specified, Ms. Silvers."
Kay tasted the wine and found it to her approval.
"Order anything you'd like, Mr. Mason. I'll pay for dinner."
"Really, that's not necessary," said Mason. "I'd like to be able to say I bought a beautiful young woman dinner. That doesn't happen that often."
"I'd hate to disappoint you," said Kay. "But this isn't a date. I have a proposal for you."
"Thank you for your offer," said Mason. "I'm truly flattered. But I enjoy the bachelor life much too much."
Kay Silvers was not amused.
"I'm talking business, Mr. Mason," said Kay.
"What kind of business would I possibly like to do with you, Ms. Silvers?"
"My best friend fired you," said Kay simply.
"Your best friend tried to fire me," corrected Mason. "She didn't really mean it, though, and I'm still working for her. And working hard, I might add."
"You might think you still work for her," said Kay. "But I know better. Helen had a long talk with Susan, Natalie, and I. Helen's not sure whether she wants to keep paying for you anymore."
"Jack Anderson told me about that," said Mason. "He says you're all against me."
"That's not true," said Kay. "I'm against you. Natalie, on the other hand, is still for you. She insists you know what you're doing. Susan doesn't really care either way. This brings us to my proposal."
"I'll listen over a New York Strip, medium well," said Mason, ordering from the waiter, who had now returned to the table. Mason tried to make small talk with Kay as he waited for his meal, but this only annoyed the young lady. While she was trying to put on an air of power and authority, she was obviously flustered underneath.
When Mason cut into his steak and found it to his approval, Kay finally opened her sexy lips to speak again.
"I'm giving you a chance to defend yourself," said Kay. "Tell me where you're going with your defense, and I'll help persuade Helen to keep paying for your services."
"I'm afraid I can't tell you that," said Mason. "It would be unprofessional."
"What you did to Helen was unprofessional," said Kay. "You forced her to incriminate herself."
"That sounds too harsh," said Mason. "I counseled Ms. Carmichael to incriminate herself."
"I want it to sound harsh!" snapped Kay. "You made her confess she was plotting to murder Bill Anders. You added credence to that anonymous letter, which you said earlier was the prosecution's best weapon. Why?"
"Jack Anderson just asked me the same thing," said Mason.
"I don't care about Jack Anderson. I just want answers!" Kay pounded the table. Her ample breasts heaved as she panted in frustration and anger.
Mason waited silently for Kay to calm down.
"Why does it mean so much to you?"
"Why? Why, you have the nerve to ask?" spat Kay. Her cheeks took on a pink flush to match her dress and lips. "Helen's my best friend. I won't just stand by and watch you crucify her!"
"Crucifixion is no longer practiced in this country, Ms. Silvers," said Mason calmly.
"You know what I mean," snarled Kay. "If this foolishness is actually genius, which Natalie keeps trying to insist, I want you to explain it to me. What's your strategy? What could Helen possibly gain from giving that testimony?"
"Ms. Carmichael asked me that question, and I tried to explain to her already. Mr. Anderson asked me the same question. He wasn't satisfied with my answers, either. Now, Ms. Silvers, why should I answer the same question for you? I hop not just because you're paying for my steak and wearing your best pink dress, which looks very lovely on you, by the way."
Kay's cheeks now went from light pink to dark red.
"Because I can persuade Helen to seek other legal council, if necessary," said Kay, her eyes still blue and solid.
"That doesn't matter, Ms. Silvers," said Mason. "Helen will make the right decision in the end. And I'll be ready when she does. Now, I ask you again, why are you and Anderson so concerned about this?"
"I don't know about that chump Anderson," said Kay, her whole face now red with anger. "But I'm concerned for Helen."
"Are you?" said Mason. "Or are you just concerned something unexpected will come up during the trial. For example, are you worried I might reveal that Helen Carmichael wasn't the only woman with a reason to want Bill Anders dead?"
He looked straight into Kay's blue eyes. For the first time that night, they flickered.
"Is that a threat?"
Perry Mason rose from his seat and scanned Kay from her dark brunette hair down to the skirt of her pink dress.
"You really are well endowed." He removed a handful of bills from his wallet and placed them on the table. "Thank you for dinner, Ms. Silvers, but we'll go Dutch."
With that, Mason left the restaurant whistling.