Lethal Lullaby-Chapter 3

Baa Baa Black Sheep

Perry and Della were still trying to process Salvatore being led out by the police when Tony came out of what was obviously Salvatore's office. Walking up to the two detectives, he held both hands in front of him, waiting to be handcuffed.

"I'm Tony Anzellmo. I understand you're here for me," he stated calmly, no hint of surprise or belligerence in his voice or eyes.

Perry immediately went to Tony's side. "Don't say anything until I have the chance to get to the precinct."

Tony smiled at him. "It's okay, Perry. I've already contacted one of our lawyers. You'll need to take care of the boss." He sighed. "And I know Don Pinelli wants you to remain here, until after the reception. Please, don't take that away from him."

Perry placed his hand on Tony's shoulder and squeezed. "Understood. All the same, don't volunteer anything until you have representation."

The lead detective watched the exchange between the two men, frowning at what he considered interference by the famous lawyer in his collar.

"If we're done with the mutual admiration society, Mr. Anzellmo . . . Come with us."

"One moment," he insisted, then turned to search for Della. She was watching, naturally, and came forward immediately. "Della, I don't know what to say. I could assure you of my—our—innocence, but that is beside the point. Salvatore would rather face mafia justice than have you or Katherine—or Perry—embarrassed like this. If you could see to it that the reception goes on, I know that would make a difference."

"We're waiting, Anzellmo," the detective prompted.

"Of course," Della reassured.

Tony smiled at her, then turned back to the detectives. "I am at your service, gentlemen."

As Perry watched the detectives lead Tony out, Della took his arm.

"Darling, I think we better make a small announcement to the gathering, don't you?"

Smiling down at his beautiful, seemingly unflappable wife, Perry's eyes warmed in appreciation. Forgetting that they had a small audience, he bent his head to hers and kissed her. Her eyes closed, her lashes resting on her cheeks.

"I am wild about you, Miss Street," he murmured. She opened her eyes again, saw how he was looking at her, and flushed. He laughed. "I've decided to leave the announcement up to you. Your excellent diplomatic skills, coupled with Mae right behind you, will see you through."

She arched one of her delicate eyebrows at him. "And you?"

"I will go talk with Paul and see if I can get more information before we head out to help our friends."

Della shook her head but returned his kiss. "One of these days, Counselor, I'm going to figure out how I always get the fuzzy end of the lollipop."

When Perry started to respond, she gave him a shove towards where Paul stood. 'Go."

Della joined her aunt and together they entered the large hall where their family and friends were gathered. A few were standing in groups whispering, while others were just milling about. But everyone stopped when Della entered, all eyes turning expectantly to her.

Here we go, she told herself as she lifted her chin in determination, Time to face the lions in their den!

"Good afternoon, everyone. Perry and I want to thank you for coming out to honor our daughter. I know if Katherine could, she would say the same." There were countless smiles and a few chuckles at that. "Unfortunately, as is often the case with us, work has once again interfered with pleasure. Please, I invite all of you to stay and enjoy the party. I'm leaving my Aunt Mae in charge—for now—and I'm sure that Katherine will join you soon."

Now the murmuring and whispers started up in earnest. Mae turned and gave her niece a big hug, then cupped her cheek affectionately. Della's hazel eyes, so like those of her aunt's, were clear and apologetic.

Mae grinned, then commanded, "Go help my favorite nephew. I'll handle things here."

Della kissed her cheek. "You're wonderful, Aunt Mae. Thank you."

Just as she turned to go Lieutenant Tragg and his wife joined them. Mrs. Tragg was taller than her husband, slender without being thin, and brimming with a vitality not often seen in a police officer's wife. She was younger than her husband by at least ten years, yet when her eyes rested on him, there was no mistaking the level of deep affection, pride and love she felt. Her eyes shifted to Della and she nudged Tragg in the side.

He coughed to hide his laugh. "Introductions are in order, I suppose. Mae, Della, I'd like you to know my wife, Mildred. Millie, this is Miss Della Street, also known as Mrs. Della Mason. And this is her charming aunt, Mae Kirby."

Mildred Tragg met Mae's eyes. The two women measured each other, both liking what they saw. Despite the circumstances and knowing that her husband would be abandoning her in a matter of moments, she felt she had just reunited with a dear friend.

"I'm sure she'd be more than happy to help keep things in order," Tragg concluded.

"Arthur! I can speak for myself! Now you get going! Let us handle things here." She gave Della a warm smile. "And congratulations, my dear, on your daughter's baptism and Christening!" Then she linked her arm with Mae's. "C'mon Mae. Nobody messes with the old broads, right?"

Mae let out with a big laugh. "Oh, you and I are going to be famous, fast friends! You've got that right, Mildred. Let's get this shindig started."

"Make it 'Millie,'" Tragg and Della heard her say as the two women moved away.

The lieutenant took Della's arm. "Let's go Della."

As they exited the hall, Tragg went to where Hamilton Burger still sat, while Della joined Perry and Paul.

Paul, who was still speaking quietly when Della joined the two men, broke off.

"Don't stop on my account," she instructed. "Tell Perry everything. Salvatore and Tony don't have a moment to spare."

Perry glanced at her, saw the determined expression in her eyes, and relaxed a little. She wasn't upset with him, nearly so much as she was focused on what needed to be done. He met Paul's eyes and nodded.

"Where was the body found?"

With a sigh, Paul gave a half-shrug. "In Vincent Pinelli's restaurant—Vinnie's Piccola Napoli. He was sitting in one of the booths."

"Vincent is Salvatore's oldest surviving son," Perry said softly. "He's completely clean from the mafia life. Living in L.A., he had nothing to do with the business going on in Sacramento." He met Paul's eyes again, his own intense as he added, "Just so you know."

"Right, no jumping to unwarranted conclusions."

Della slipped her hand into Perry's. Smiling gently, he squeezed it before asking, "You said execution-style. That means…"

Paul looked pointedly at Della, but she just stared back. "One shot, close range, center of his forehead."

Della put her head on Perry's shoulder. He dropped her hand to wrap his arm around her. Pulling her closer to his side, he ran his hand up and down her arm.

"And you say the IOUs were pinned to his shirt? No other note? Nothing else?"

Paul lit a cigarette, blowing out a stream of smoke. "Just the prints on the notes."

The frown cutting Perry's face intensified. "Did you find out how long he's been . . . how long the body was there? The timing seems off. The restaurant would have been closed this morning."

"I don't know," Paul admitted. "I got you what information I could."

Della smiled at that. "Well, considering that all of this happened so quickly after the service, it certainly is convenient that the police already know about the prints on those IOUs."

"I agree. This smells like a setup to me."

Paul looked at his friend. "Whadda ya mean? Come on, Perry!"

Della smiled up at her husband, already knowing what was on his mind. "Think about it, Paul. The victim was involved in that blackmail business because of his wife's gambling and affair. The man who holds the IOUs literally sacrificed his youngest son because of it. And now that first man is found in his oldest son's restaurant, during a time when the place was closed, with said IOUs? How did the police process them so quickly? Who reported the body? And why were Salvatore's the only prints found? You have to admit it reads like a bad Hollywood gangster movie."

Paul shook his head, took a long drag on his cigarette, and exhaled. There's no use trying to warn them. They are going to pursue this, whether Perry represents Salvatore or not. "Okay, point taken. So now what?"

"I need to get to the Ninth as quickly as possible. And you need to use your special skillset to find out what is really going on. Pay particular attention to the officers who fed you the information. There must have been some reason they felt compelled to—"

He lifted a hand. "I get it. Why tell me? They had to hunt me down at the church. Burger and Tragg hadn't even left yet. Why not tell them?"

Della grinned at him. "Now you're thinking like a detective!"

"Funny. Okay, I'll beat the bushes and get you as much information as I can." He tossed his finished cigarette into a nearby ashtray.

Paul turned to go, then froze. Perry was just leading Della to the door when Hamilton stopped them, his face a mask of fury.

"Mason, if you defend this maniac, I will personally see you not only disbarred, but serving a prison sentence right alongside him."

Perry's nostrils flared and his eyes glistened dangerously. His mouth compressed into a tight, fighting line. The muscles in his arm tightened and his fist clenched. Only Della's presence kept him from striking the district attorney.

When Perry would have responded, Della stepped in between the two men. Putting her hand on Burger's arm, she spoke softly. "Hamilton, listen to me. You know you don't mean that. Perry is only doing his job, just as I know you will do yours. Together we will find out who has done this horrible thing."

Focusing on the sincerity in her beautiful eyes, Hamilton took a step back and sighed. He flushed, ashamed of his temper and of losing control. "I'm sorry Della. I was out of line. I'm just upset. It's just that Gavin . . ." His voice choked off.

Della put her arms around him, hugging him tightly. "I know, Hamilton. He was your friend, first and foremost. And the entire business from before . . . But please rest assured, Perry and I are here for you." Stepping back, she gave him one of her dazzling smiles. "Now we should all get to the bottom of this."

As he nodded his assent, Tragg stepped over, putting his hand on Burger's arm. "Let's take my car." Then he led the man out the door.

As Della watched them leave, she felt Perry's arms enfold her. "I swear, Mrs. Mason, you could tame an erupting volcano if you just smiled at it."

She leaned back into his broad chest. "Oh Perry, I feel so sorry for him. Hamilton doesn't let many people inside. Gavin Richards was his friend. I can't imagine . . . First, the shock of finding out about his wife, and now this . . ."

He nuzzled her soft curls, murmured gently, "Not to worry, my love. He is a very strong man. He'll pull through this."

Now she turned in his arms, lifting her face to his. Her eyes scanned the worry lines creasing his forehead. She reached up a hand and smoothed them. "I know."

He bent his head to claim a kiss. "Let's go check on our daughter and then we'll start working."

She nodded and turned to Paul. "Will you make sure Aunt Mae and Mildred Tragg haven't done anything too wild before you head out?"

Paul laughed. "Anything for you, Beautiful." He headed for the banquet hall.

The exhausted parents climbed the stairs and entered the nursery. Standing behind his wife, his arms tightly around her as she tucked the blanket firmly around the still-sleeping Katherine, Perry's mind was already working on two different tracks. Part of him was forming questions that needed to be answered before he could defend Salvatore, while the other part of him was memorizing the moment, burying it deep in his private memory palace for posterity.

"There," Della said sweetly, sighing as she leaned against him. Her mouth curved up at the corners naturally. "She looks like you in repose."

He leaned over to see for himself. "She looks like an angel. How did we luck out, Della?"

"I don't know. Perry, I don't want anything to happen to her. Part of that is making sure nothing happens to you."

He hadn't been expecting that. "Why do you think something is going to happen to me?"

She turned to face him directly, took his hand and led him slightly away from their daughter. "Because something about all of this seems, I don't know, convenient. Someone implicates Salvatore. And here we are, in the thick of it. I'm not saying I think you should let someone else handle this. I would never say that. In fact, I want to help him. I want us to help. But—"

"But you're afraid whoever is behind this is counting on my involvement."

Her troubled eyes met his deep blue ones. "I'm sure of it. I'm as sure of that as I am that Katherine is going to break hearts."

His eyes drifted to the crib, then back to her. "I promise, I will not take unnecessary risks, Della. I know what is at stake. And believe me, no one is going to put Katherine or you in danger without going through me."

"I love you," she confessed.

He grinned, flashing his signature dimples. "Well, if that be the case, I have all the armor I need. Time to get to work, Sweetheart."