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Chapter 7 - Cat and Mice
20th August 1977
Della arrived home about three o'clock in the morning. Agent Anderson had taken her back home while Perry had taken a cab to go back into town where he had hopefully found a hotel room for the night. Realizing she was exhausted but also unable to sleep, she went into her kitchen and made herself some herbal tea. The house was completely silent and Della figured Martha had given up on waiting for her to come home and was fast asleep.
Thank God, she thought. The idea of having another fight with her mother-in-law was unbearable. Martha's outburst in Richard's hospital room was typical for her. Every time Martha was upset or like today consumed by fear she exploded and usually Della was the one who found herself at the receiving end of her rage.
When the tea bag was swimming in the mug Della sank down at her kitchen table and buried her face within her hands. She wanted to cry, actually needed to cry, but she couldn't. Her fear for Ruben, her bad conscience concerning Richard and her marriage, and her unleashed feelings for Perry, it all was concentrated in her throat, making it almost impossible for her to breathe, but the knot wouldn't burst.
Nervous her hands roamed her purse for the package of cigarettes she had taken with her from the cabin. She found them along with Perry's lighter. It was a beautiful piece with his initials engraved. PM. Now that she looked closer at it she noticed it was very similar in design to the cigarette case Laura had with her the day before yesterday. Maybe the pieces belonged together like two sides of one coin, she thought bitterly. In the top shelf of her cupboard she located her old ashtray and placed it on the kitchen table. She sighed and took a long, deep drag, hoping the tobacco would quickly do its deed and calm her nerves.
Suddenly the kitchen door opened and Martha came in. Della startled and she was almost tempted to try hiding her cigarette under the table, before she remembered how stupid it would look to do so. Martha had always criticized her for smoking, but she didn't even seem to notice it now. She was wrapped in her dressing gown and for the first time in all these years Della saw her with her hair down. It was still black with only a few strains of silver woven in. It was very similar to Richard's hair color - and to Ruben's. Martha still was a beautiful woman. Tall with her back straightened up and slim figure she was what young people called a 'looker'.
"I thought I heard a car arriving," Martha said when she sat down next to Della. "Any news?"
Della shook her head and rose to dispose of her tea bag in the trash. "No. Do you want some tea?"
"No, thank you. How is it you know this FBI agent so well?" Martha asked. She really didn't waste any time getting to the bottom of things. "He was very kind."
The simple, innocent sounding question was enough to annoy Della. Martha Carlisle never asked anything without having an ulterior motive and she hated small talk. Dellas' nerves were too wrecked for a play of cat and mice and she decided to go to bed as soon as possible, just to get out of this kitchen. Maybe she was just about to suggest that Andy must have been a former lover of her. Why else would he be so kind?
"He once worked for the L.A.P.D.," Della answered crisply.
"I see. I guess that means he and your former boss can't have been close friends."
Della sighed wearily, because she saw her suspicion confirmed: Martha was fishing for information and Della wasn't in the mood to provide it. "They've always got along because they fought for the same thing. Justice. They respect each other."
"How noble."
Della shrugged upon the sarcasm in Martha's voice. It wasn't worth a reply.
"A pity that we can't respect each other," Martha said after a moment of silence.
"That's hardly my fault." Della snapped back and taken aback by the sharpness in Della's voice Martha cleared her throat. "I'm sorry for what I said tonight at the hospital. It was uncalled for."
Della crooked her eyebrow. Martha Carlisle… apologized. That must be a first. "I guess it wouldn't have mattered, if you had been home or when the kidnapping happened. I guess it was just..." She broke off, suddenly avoiding Della's glance.
"Just what?" Della asked, mentally preparing herself for a lame excuse, but again she was in for a surprise.
"Seeing Richard this helpless and afraid wasn't easy. You don't raise a boy to see him this vulnerable once he's become a man. I'll never get used to his… health restrictions."
Della swallowed, somewhat moved by Martha's confession even though it didn't change that she didn't agree with her mother-in-law. "Richard's not weak. He's one of the strongest people I've ever met."
"And yet he isn't enough for you, is he?" Martha asked quietly and this time she avoided Della's eyes. Instead she toyed with the Perry's lighter, ran her index finger over the engraved letters. Della hadn't put it back into her purse and she silently scolded herself for her inattention. "I've watched you and this lawyer... There's something going on between you and this man, something very different from what I've seen between you and Richard during all these years."
"It's called friendship." Della knew she sounded lame, but she didn't wish to discuss her relationship with Perry with anyone, especially not Martha.
"Is it?" Martha shook her head while a strange smile appeared on her face. It didn't root in Martha's usual sarcasm, something that bewildered Della even more than the apology. "I'm sorry, my dear, but what I see in his face when he looks at you barely fits the description of 'friendship'. I've seen this look on a man's face before, you know. This hunger…." Martha shifted on her seat, clearly uncomfortable, but before she could continue Della interrupted her.
"Martha, please… I'm tired. It was a long, horrible day…"
"I know. I promise I won't judge you…. Just let me tell you a story."
"A story?" Slowly Della sank back on her chair.
"Yes. As you know Richard's father died quite young. Richard was just twelve years old and he worshiped the ground his father walked on. For a while I was afraid, he wouldn't recover from his father's death, but of course he did."
Della waited for Martha to continue, but it seemed she struggled to find the right words.
"Some time before Daniel died I met someone – a man. The circumstances are not relevant, but I have to admit he swept me off my feet. I tried to fight it, but sometimes fighting's not enough…" Martha's voice trailed off.
"Martha, what are you telling me?" Della asked.
"I guess I'm telling you that I know that life isn't just black and white. There's a lot of grey in between, but in the end we have to make a choice for one or the other. Make your choice and stick to it, Della. My son deserves better – and so do you."
With that Martha rose and left the kitchen. Della was left behind, wondering if she had ever known Martha Carlisle and what exactly the woman had tried to tell her.
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After a more or less sleepless night and a cold shower Perry returned to the hospital shortly after six o'clock in the morning. He wanted to talk to Richard before anyone else did. He had spent his few hours in bed tossing and turning without being able to put all the pieces together. After his conversation with Andy and Richard the day before he wasn't sure what part Richard had played in Rebecca and Paul's murder. Could it be possible that Della and he had drawn the wrong conclusions about his involvement? A part of him hoped they had been wrong. He didn't want Della and her son to suffer from the consequences of what a guilty husband and father could bring over them. And then there was another, smaller part of him who wanted to get rid of Richard Carlisle once and for all, because he wanted Della all for himself.
He had no clue how to approach Carlisle. How cooperative would Carlisle be? What had Della told him the night before when Mason had taken Martha home? With his son's life being at stake Della's relationship to Mason shouldn't be of importance for the time being, but Mason knew Carlisle and his temper. The lawyer hoped Della's husband was able to control his jealousy otherwise they were all in for some very ugly and disruptive scenes.
Mason nodded at the guard in front of Carlilse's hospital room and knocked. Carlisle groaned when Mason entered the room. "You aren't losing any time, are you?"
"I've always tried to avoid it," the lawyer answered. "Any news from Anderson?"
"Not yet," Richard said. "My guess is Hardcastle will keep us waiting for some more time just to make sure we know he's in control."
"Possible."
"What do I owe this early pleasure of an early visit?" Richard asked his voice filled with sarcasm.
"There are some questions I'd like to have answers for," Perry said. He leaned back against the window frame, where he had already stood the evening before and crossed his arms over his chest.
"If you're asking, if I intend to give up my wife without a fight, you're wasting your precious time," Richard said.
"That's a question I want to reserve for another time," Perry told him bluntly. "What I want to know is how you're involved in Paul Drake's murder!"
Richard sighed. "I didn't kill him and I certainly didn't ask anyone to do it on my behalf, if that's what you're implying."
"I want a little more than your assurance. Let's go back to the beginning. Tell me everything about you, Norton and Hardcastle. Did he organize the killing of Rebecca Powell?"
Carlisle hesitated, then he said, "He did, but it didn't happen as you might think."
"I'm all ears." Mason said sternly.
"I need your word, you won't use this information to your advantage."
"What do you mean by that?" Perry asked suspiciously.
"There are certain things Della doesn't need to know. Things that would only hurt her. I want you to keep them for yourself."
Perry drew a deep breath. Who was he to make any promises to Richard? "I can't promise you anything, Richard, but I promise I don't want Della to get hurt either."
"Fair enough," the other man scoffed. "Do you ever get tired of pretending to be so goddamn upright?"
Perry grinned sourly "That's a tough question from someone who repeatedly accused me of breaking the law."
"Well, you do, and every time you're seeking the moral high ground. Anyway, that's a discussion for later on as well. You were asking about Rebecca Powell. You were there when Della talked to her four years ago. You heard the threats she made. When I listened to the tape I knew I had to do something to keep her out of a courtroom and out of our lives."
"And you knew just the people to make that happen..."
"I talked to James Norton who was D.A. back then and told him to offer Rebecca a deal against her silence. After a few years of prison she should be released and have enough money to leave the country for good."
"I see. What went wrong?"
"Apparently she had been prepared for that kind of offer and wanted more. Her late fiancée, that kid Renzi, had told her some indiscretions about important clients of my office. She threatened to talk to the press if the authorities wouldn't release her from custody."
"And so she had to die," Mason summed up the story.
Richard nodded. "I had no idea they would kill her. I was ready to pay her everything she asked for, but Norton went completely overboard and Hardcastle cleaned up after him and the people he had bribed to the job. For almost four years I had no idea what had actually happened the day Rebecca died. I have to admit though that I never asked too many questions. I was just glad Rebecca was gone and Della – and all of us - were safe. And then one day Drake called me and asked for a meeting. He told me about his investigation. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw the evidence he had summoned. I told him to stay away from Norton and his people, but he was determined to uncover everything he had found out."
"Paul came to you with all of this?"
Perry couldn't believe what he heard. Why had Paul never talked to him about all this? Why had he kept Perry in the dark?
"Did you tell Norton or Hardcastle about Paul's investigation?" Perry asked.
"Of course not! I tried to help Drake! I contacted the FBI, that's how Agent Anderson became involved. I don't know how Hardcastle got wind of Drake. Perhaps he talked to the wrong people and they contacted Hardcastle. Anyway, after Drake was killed, I knew he could be the only one responsible. To gun someone how just like that is just his signature. He prefers the simple solution for a complex problem."
"So why did he walk free?" Mason asked angrily. "Did Norton make sure Hardcastle got away?"
"Yes. I talked to Norton and he bluntly told me that he would take care of Hardcastle. Apparently he owes Hardcastle and so he made sure Hardcastle left the court as a free man. I didn't like it, but I figured it was too dangerous to go after Norton and Hardcastle. As we know now, I wasn't wrong."
Perry watched Richard's hand forming a fist that hit the mattress with fierce punches. He sensed the other man's frustration and understood it. Even if he wanted to, there wasn't much he could do. He was damned to wait for the kidnapper's instructions to get his son back. His physical disability was also a major disadvantage that perhaps had never been this frustrating to him until now. Perry also knew his mere presence in this situation was nothing but torture for Richard. The man was intelligent, highly successful, and admired by people, because he had never given up. He wasn't a quitter and wasn't used to losing or not getting his way. He was a storybook politician who had it all: a dedicated, beautiful wife, a healthy son, and a clean slate. And now everything was slipping away from him. In case Hardcastle and Norton were brought to justice, Carlisle's political career was over and everything he had worked for would probably fall apart.
Perry had no idea whether Della would actually leave her husband, but even if she stayed with Carlisle it was undeniable that their already rocky marriage was not as solid as it was in the past. Perry suspected Carlisle was too proud to live a lie, yet love was always an unpredictable force when it came to relationships.
What were the alternative versions for the fiasco they were facing? Perry wouldn't allow Norton and Hardcastle to get away with murder and kidnapping, even if Carlisle was willing to do so to keep his family safe. Perry would rather die himself before he allowed a couple of ruthless murderers to get away with their schemes. Paul and his family deserved justice.
Mason cleared his throat. "Listen, Richard, I'll do my best to save your son. I'll even do my best to save you and your reputation, but there are two things that are not negotiable."
"I wonder what that could be..." Richard laughed out bitterly, but it sounded more like a bark.
"Norton and Hardcastle will be brought to justice for everything they've done and I don't care what the consequences will mean for your political survival."
"Fair enough."
"And then there's Della…."
"Don't dare to ask me to give her up just like that."
"I don't. But whatever she decides, I want you to respect her decision."
Richard laughed. "You seem pretty certain she'll choose you!"
He wasn't. Not at all. "Truth to be told I'm not sure she'll choose either one of us, but I don't want you to stand in her way, in case she decides to leave you."
For over a minute Richard was just lying there, contemplating Perry's words. Then he nodded. "All right, Mason. You have my word. Just answer me one question."
"Shoot!"
"When did it begin? Was it right after Drake's funeral or even before?"
"What makes you think anything started after Paul's funeral?" Perry asked, honestly surprised.
"Because she changed after that," Richard answered. "It has never been the same between us since she came home from L.A."
For the first time since he entered the room his guilty conscience struck him. For one he remembered the awful fight he had with Della that night and then of course there was their passion filled encounter from the day before. Whatever he had wanted for Della and himself, he had wanted it to be less scary and complicated. They had been overwhelmed by their feelings for each other and none of them had been prepared for the immense impact of it. The only person who had apparently known all along what was bound to happen lay in the bed in front of him and was perhaps the one who had to lose the most.
"Listen, Richard..." Perry said, but Richard never heard what Perry wanted to explain. The door to the hospital room flew open and Martha stormed in. Her entrance was even more spectacular than the day before.
"Richard!" She cried out and stormed to the bed, completely ignoring Perry. "Richard, something awful has happened!"
"Mother! What are you talking about?" Richard wanted to grab for his mother's hand, but Martha was whirling her hands around.
"Della's gone!" Martha yelled. "I thought she was still asleep and wanted to wake her up, but she was gone. I thought it was very odd and went outside to talk to the FBI agents. They said she left over an hour ago. Apparently she told the agent in the car she wouldn't need him. She said she wanted to go to the hospital, but when I called here, they said, she never arrived."
Richard turned his head and faced Perry, questioned him without losing a word, but the lawyer shook his head. "I haven't seen her since last night." He stormed to the door. "I'm going to get Anderson!"
"I've already spoken to him!" Martha said. "He's on his way!"
###tbc###
