Perry reached for the phone and dialed Della's number.
"Hello?"
"I just received word that our client's business partner was found dead in his home. It is being investigated as a homicide. Get ready, I will pick you up in half-an-hour."
"You must have dialed this number by mistake," a middle-aged woman's harsh voice answered, and she hung up before he had a chance to apologize.
Perry tried to dial Della's number again.
"Hello?" This time, he immediately realized that the voice that said 'hello' was not Della's.
"Who is this?" Perry asked, growing suspicious.
"None of your concern. I told you, you have the wrong number."
Again, there was a 'click' and the connection was broken.
Panicking, Perry jumped up from his chair, grabbed his coat, and ran out of the office. Reaching his car, he turned on the engine and sped through the city until he reached Della's apartment building. Something was very, very wrong. Someone was clearly in Della's apartment, and was not allowing her to come to the phone. Was it an attempted kidnapping? A burglary? What if Della was - . No. He would not allow himself to finish that thought. She would be alright. She had to be alright!
"O God, please don't let anything happen to my Della!" he whispered.
He was already in the lobby of her apartment building when he realized that it would have been more prudent for him to call the police or at least Paul Drake to accompany him in this investigation. However, at that point he could not bear the thought of any further delay. He bounded up the stairs, and knocked loudly at her apartment door. He studied the frame, and planned that if the door was not answered in fifteen seconds, he would pick the lock or kick it in.
No such drastic actions were necessary. The door swung open, and he found himself facing a short, heavy-set, middle-aged woman.
"What do you want?" she demanded, studying Perry and his trench coat with piercing eyes.
"I am here to see Ms. Street," Perry answered.
"At three o'clock on a Saturday morning? Who might you be that you call on young ladies at such an hour?"
"My name is Perry Mason, and I am Ms. Street's employer."
This declaration only served to increase the fury in the woman's face.
"Well, I am her aunt, and no niece of mine is going to trample around the city in the dead of night with a man, employer or not."
"Aunt?" Della's own, sleepy voice called from the bedroom. It was like music to Perry's worried ears. "Is that you? Are you speaking to someone?"
"It's nothing important, my dear. Go back to sleep," the woman called in a soothing voice. Turning back to Perry, she said in a much harder tone, "Now get off with you, before I call the police." She slammed the door in his face.
Swallowing his pride, Perry stepped away from the door. Thinking for a moment, he remembered that Della had mentioned the week before that her aunt was going to be visiting. Della had also sounded tired, but not hurt, when she called out. Thus, he deigned to leave the premises, and to go to the crime scene alone.
Please review, and I will try to post the next chapter soon!
