And so, Perry Mason sat at his desk. It was now Wednesday afternoon. Paul had been gone two days – he was chasing leads in Della's hometown. Perry had wanted to go with him, but Paul had taken one look at Perry's face and absolutely insisted that he stay behind and check out leads in Los Angeles. First of all, someone needed to ensure that Della was not still in the city. And second of all, in his present frame of mind, Perry would only be a liability. He needed to collect himself and become his usual methodical self before he could be taken along for a high-stakes investigation.

As a result, Perry undertook what should have been the easier part. He visited Della's apartment building alone, his misery only increasing when her landlord explained that her lease was ending at the end of the month and that she had not renewed it. Della was not home, but a glance through the window showed him that most of her things were in boxes.

He visited a few of her girlfriends' houses, and quickly became persuaded that they, too, had not known anything of the impending wedding until he informed them of it. He then retired to his office, and pretended to work. But it was hopeless, and he took to pacing around the room and sitting at his desk and staring into space by turns. He was engaged in this latter occupation when Paul Drake – finally – burst into his office.

In an instant, Perry was on his feet.

"Did you find her? Is it true?"

"Yes, to both. She is to be married on Sunday. And I found her, I even saw her," Paul replied solemnly. Seeing the next question in his friend's eyes, he added, "No, I did not speak with her. And I am certain that she did not see me, and never suspected that I was in her hometown."

"Why did you not -"

"I am coming to that, Perry." Paul paused. "Our Della is in a bad jam."

Perry lowered himself back into his chair, heart pounding, and nodded for Paul to continue.

"This story starts, like many other tragedies, with human stupidity. A hundred and thirty years ago, Della's great-great-great grandfather, Dennis Street, lived in her hometown of Baskerville, and was neighbors with a fellow named Ronald Clark. Neither kept their fences in good repair, and one day a pig was discovered in a meadow just outside their properties. Both laid claim to it, and thus began to hate each other. They fired shots at each other's windows and set fire to bales of each other's hay. Once the Baskerville police force strengthened and began to enforce stringent penalties for such behavior, they started expressing their dislike for each other with slander and legal trickery. A century into this family feud, Della Street was born. Her father was very proud of his new daughter, and William Clark decided that he deserved to be taken down a notch. During a town council meeting, during which Mr. Street had been boasting about his precious offspring, Mr. Clark insulted him and said that he was sure the girl would grow up foolish, ugly, and be an old maid. Mr. Street responded in kind, and said that he would bet his entire livelihood on the fact that no girl of his would be an old maid. The argument escalated until the two parties signed an agreement in the presence of five witnesses," Paul produced a piece of paper and handed it to Perry, "that if Della Street were still unmarried by the age of thirty, her father would immediately hand over his house and farm to William Clark or his heirs."

"Do you mean to tell me that he gambled his daughter's happiness to settle a score with a nemesis?"

"That is exactly what he did. To be worse, he never mentioned the agreement to Della – possibly because he had thought better of it and was ashamed or maybe he just remained convinced that there was no way his daughter would still be unmarried by the time she turned thirty – that particular small farming community holds old maidenhood as quite a position of disgrace. Anyhow, he felt an even lesser need to mention it when William Clark died childless around the time that Della was eighteen. All of Baskerville thought that their longest-running family feud had finally ended."

"Hadn't it?"

"If you look at the copy of the agreement which you are holding, Perry, it says that Mr. Street would turn over his property to William Clark or his heirs. When Clark died childless, he left everything to a young cousin of his – Miles Warner. Warner only moved to Baskerville when he was a teenager, and thus did not share his uncle's feelings towards the Streets, at first, and found Della quite pretty. He invited her to the high school prom, but Della thought him arrogant and cruel, and turned him down soundly. He was very offended, and vowed to all his friends that he would make sure that haughty girl would be his one way or another…"

"And when his uncle died and bequeathed him everything, in this simple piece of paper he discovered a gold mine."

"Exactly. And what a despicable way he went about prospecting it! He warned all the other boys in town that they would face his wrath if they dared to show any interest in Della. She apparently downplayed her beauty and her intelligence by becoming very demure and wearing very plain clothes, but she could not shake her admirer. At last she moved to Los Angeles, barely went home anymore, and never even told her own parents how successful she was – everyone in Baskerville is a fan of yours, but no one suspects that Della Street is your confidential secretary. Ask them what she does for a living and they will tell you some of the stories that Miles Warner has spread: she works in a diner or as a maid on the outskirts of town, barely making ends meet. She never contradicted these rumors, afraid that the truth would only make her a more coveted trophy."

Perry shook his head. If only he had spent more time speaking to Della about her life, maybe she would have told him this! He could have helped her. He had defended hundreds of people accused of murder, but had not defended the woman he loved.

"And so, in blissful ignorance, Della worked for you, and never married. A few weeks ago, Miles Warner called her up and informed her that unless she found a bridegroom by her birthday, which is this Sunday, he would own her father's house. He promised to put her father, mother, and grandmother out at the same hour; as well as evict her younger brother and his family from a smaller house that they occupy on the property. They all depend on that land for their livelihood."

"And since she had no boyfriend, he offered his own hand in marriage?"

"Yes, he did. And she had no choice but to accept him to save her family from poverty." Paul leaned over and tapped on the document which had sealed Della's fate. "Perry, you need to find a loophole and save her from this. The man can't be brought off; he wants Della for revenge, and you should see him peacocking his way around town, that poor girl on his arm. I watched them when they came into the diner for a date. He would not let her order what she wanted, bluntly telling her that he had no intention of being married to a fat wife. He ordered the cheapest thing on the menu for her – tomato and onion mash – which looked as appetizing as it sounded. She looked drawn and pale, and only spoke when he forced her to answer him. It was horrible."

Perry stood up, resolute, and without another word went into the law library.

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