Hi there. I know this chapter comes in a little later than usual, but, well, life is busy these days. Enjoy and let me know what you think!
Chapter 12 - The Devil you know
23rd August 1977, Sacramento
When Martha woke up on the sofa it was after two in the morning and the house was quiet and dark. She was confused, still caught up in her disturbing nightmare filled with gunshots, screams, and tears. Having the odd feeling that she was alone, she sat up. She listened into the surreal darkness and a shiver crawled up and down her spine. Something was wrong. Sure she would have heard Della returning home, she rose and switched on the lights. The brightness that filled the deserted rooms did nothing to soothe her nerves. With growing uneasiness she checked every room in the house - without success. She was indeed on her own. Where the hell was Della? In the kitchen she found a telephone number pinned at the fridge. Her forehead wrinkled when she deciphered Della's handwriting. It was the number of Perry Mason's hotel room. Could it be that Della was spending the night there? With her heart racing in her chest and a sour taste in her mouth, she started dialing. She was either interrupting some hanky panky, or, if Della wasn't with Mason, her daughter-in-law was probably in danger.
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Perry missed Martha's phone call. He stood under the shower and allowed hot water to splash relentlessly over his head. After spending all day in his search for Laura, he had returned to his hotel room about an hour ago. He was worn out, yet edgy, and hungry. He missed Della and wished it weren't too late to call her. The search for Laura had been a waste of time. He had talked to her office, to clients, and to people he considered her friends. It was a short list and none of the people on it had seen or spoken to Laura in weeks. It amazed him to realize that her social life had been practically non-existent for the last month.
It appeared as if Della had been the last person who had been in contact with Laura, which was all the more curious. Dead ends everywhere he looked. Did he know even less about his wife than he thought? In times like these he missed Paul Drake the most. He did not only miss Paul's wit and his intelligence. He missed the professional expertise and instinct of someone who was incorruptible. With him at his side he could have solved the mystery surrounding Laura much quicker.
Frustrated he turned off the faucet and rubbed his wet, tired face. Tomorrow morning he would talk to Andy and ask him to put her on the wanted list.
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Della was sitting on the hard floor with her back rested against a wall. The position was most uncomfortable and she cursed the people who were responsible for this miserable experience. The room was empty, the walls white and the floor tagged with expensive stone tiles. Not exactly what people called a shack in the woods.
Della figured it was a house that belonged to Congressman Norton. Perhaps his weekend home, some kind of refuge. The car ride had taken almost an hour. There was no furniture in the room which caused every little noise to echo within the walls. Two windows without shutters offered a view that told her the house was located in the middle of nowhere. Bright Moonlight fell into the room and kept her awake, not that she truly longed for sleep. She was exhausted, very much so, but she couldn't allow herself to fall asleep. She had to stay awake, alerted, she had to memorise everything about the house in case she had to testify in the future - if there was a future ahead for her.
The air was sticky and from time to time she heard a whimper from the other corner of the room. Laura had fallen asleep, but her dreams were apparently haunting her. Della had no doubt that Laura deserved every nightmare she had to live through, yet she wondered about them.
After Norton and his factotum had brought them to the house outside Sacramento Laura had been allowed to clean herself up and change into clothes that weren't shred to pieces. Like a wounded animal Laura had hunched up in a corner and hadn't dared moving since. Whatever happened to her before Della had been forced into Norton's car had shaken her up and she didn't even seem to notice Della's presence. Della kept a close eye on her, even though they hadn't exchanged a word until now. Why she was, some bruises aside, still unharmed was a mystery to her.
If Norton wanted her dead he could have killed her already, but he kept both of them alive, which meant he needed them. Did he want to use them as a bargain? Most likely.
After she had read Paul's file about Laura, Della had come to her own conclusions about Laura's involvement in all this. But now that they were both locked up together she had second thoughts. She didn't doubt the results of Paul's investigation about Laura, but perhaps there were still some pieces of the puzzle that were still missing. It was frustrating to realize once again that Laura wasn't the devil she knew. Laura was still a mystery to her.
Suddenly the low whimpering stopped and Della heard Laura moving. She tensed up and waited for something to happen.
"What time is it?" Laura asked into the darkness. Her voice sounded uncharacteristically raw, almost broken.
"After hours," Della replied after a short hesitation.
Laura chuckled rawly. "You know what's always amazed me about you? You've never been shy for an answer."
Della chose not to comment.
"Perry will get us out of here," Laura said after another minute of silence and when Della didn't react she asked. "Don't you agree?"
"Why are you here?"
"Norton kidnapped me."
"That's not what I asked."
Della heard Laura changing her position. She groaned with pain and coughed.
"Why did he hit you?" Della asked. "Did you blow one of his plans?"
Laura scoffed. "What do you know about Norton's plans?"
"I know that Paul had found out everything he needed to put him behind bars for a long time. As a consequence Norton had to react. His reputation and his future were at stake."
"Paul Drake? Don't be ridiculous!" Laura coughed again and it didn't sound like a smoker's cough. "Paul knew nothing, believe me!"
"You know I'm right. Paul, Rebecca Powell, Peter Hardcastle… all of them had to die because Norton needed to protect himself."
"Rebecca Powell had to die for only one reason - you. Your husband ordered her death, so don't blame this on anyone else."
"He did not." Della argued, but she couldn't completely shake off the doubts deep within her.
"Don't be so naive. He couldn't stand the idea of seeing your case dragged into court! It would have destroyed his political career. Imagine Senator Carlisle having clay feet because his proper wife is exposed as a sex maniac!"
"Excuse me?!"
"This is your fault. All of it."
Della bit back an ugly remark. What was the use of talking to someone who never accepted their own share of guilt? And who told her Laura wasn't provoking her to find out how much she knew? What if the room was bugged?
Laura interrupted Della's morbid thoughts. "You're the lucky one in this, you know."
"And why's that?" Della asked without trying to hide her sarcasm.
"Because you have two men on your side who will give their lives to save yours," Laura answered. "If I get out of this alive, it'll be because my own husband wants to see me in jail."
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Perry was ready to leave his hotel room at seven o'clock. He clasped his watch strap and checked his tie in the mirror and startled a bit when he saw his own reflection. He wasn't particularly vain, but this morning he realized how old he had become. His sleep had been interrupted by various nightmares and that he couldn't reach Della at home added to his constant worry.
He had tried to call her already twice this morning, but no one had picked up the phone. Wondering why no one, no even Martha, had answered, he decided to go there.
He grabbed the keys for his rented car and his briefcase. He was about to open the door when a loud, insisting knock stopped him.
"Mason!" Richard Carlisle's voice sounded angrier than Mason had ever heard him before. Bewildered he opened the door.
"Where is she?" Carlisle didn't waste any time with pleasantries.
"Della?" Mason snapped back and wondered briefly why Richard wasn't in the hospital. "She's not here. I tried to call her, but she didn't answer the phone."
Without waiting for an invitation Carlisle wheeled past Perry, as if he wanted to see for himself if the attorney was telling the truth.
"She is not here!" Perry repeated coldly.
"Well, she hasn't been home all night!"
"What?! Have you called Anderson?"
"Not yet. First I had to know she wasn't here."
Perry couldn't believe it. "Don't you know her at all?!"
"Get off your high horse, Mason! I know the two of you are having an affair. I only believe what I see!"
"You know what I see?" Perry barked. "A bitter man who's drowning in self-pity!"
He threw his briefcase onto the unmade bed and started dialling Andy's telephone number.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm calling Agent Anderson! Something you should have done the moment you realized Della wasn't home!"
But Andy didn't pick up the phone. Mason groaned in frustration. Ready to smash the phone against the wall or Carlisle's head, he stared at the Senator. "When did you last see her?"
"Yesterday afternoon at the hospital," Carlisle answered.
"Did she tell you where she wanted to go?"
Carlisle shook his head. "She wanted to see Ruben of course…"
"And?" Perry asked when he noticed Carlisle's hesitation.
"I don't know. We argued… she didn't tell me anything about her plans for the rest of the day."
Perry started to understand. After their argument Carlisle had feared - and a much smaller part of him - had hoped Della had sought comfort in Perry. Well, she didn't and Perry had been out all day and he hadn't told anyone where he was.
"I haven't talked to her either," Perry said, hoping it could reassure Richard whose composure was about to fall apart.
"Try to call Anderson again!" Carlisle ordered. "She would never run away like this, which means Norton's got her!"
Perry's phone rang. He picked up the receiver and barked his name.
Carlisle watched him with growing fear when he saw the lawyer's face turning pale. After listening for almost one minute Perry handed Carlisle the receiver.
"It's Norton. For you."
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Della took a towel and dried her face. A quick gaze in the mirror told her, she looked as dreadful as she felt. Her sleepless night on the stone floor had left a lasting impression on her body and her face. For a reason she couldn't fathom she was allowed to take a shower and to change her clothes before Norton was expecting her for breakfast downstairs. Should she expect poisoned cereals or a snake under a plate hood? Most likely not. Unsure what to expect and how to behave she inspected the small range of make up in the mirror cabinet. Norton had thought of everything, which was all the more curious.
Fifteen minutes later, she knocked at the door to let her guard know she was ready. It was the same man who had threatened her with his gun the day before. There was a red scar underneath his eye she hadn't noticed before. It looked quite fresh and she suddenly wondered if Laura was responsible for it.
Norton was waiting downstairs in a sun flooded room near his study. The table was well-laid with everything a hungry person could ask for. He put his newspaper aside when he saw her and rose. The smile on his face was kind and generous and Della wished she could squash it with her bare hands.
Norton was not a good looking man. He was small, half bald, and his eyes seemed to belong to a dead fish. He was the very opposite of Perry in every imaginable way, especially when she considered the hideous body count the man was leaving behind.
"Della, how kind of you to come."
"I wasn't left much choice," she replied and added with a wide smile. "If I wanted to eat. I admit my appetite got the better of me."
"I'm glad to hear it. My chef is always delighted when we entertain. Apparently he thinks, I'm not appreciative enough of his art."
He offered her a seat and Della sank on the chair, hoping he didn't notice her shaking hands. A waiter filled her cup with coffee and when Norton nodded at him, he swiftly disappeared while his factotum stayed near the door.
"Is there a reason why I get the chance to eat and Laura Mason doesn't?" Della asked.
"Actually there is a reason," Norton said. "I can't stand her sight, but that makes two of us, doesn't it?"
Della preferred not to answer and Norton chuckled when he saw her hesitation.
"You can be completely honest with me, Della. I know what she did to you and even if I don't care for her sins towards you, I think we have something in common when it comes to her."
"I'm not sure I can follow you," Della replied.
"Oh, I think you can. I suggest we start being honest with each other. It'll make our lives a whole lot easier, you know."
"You first."
Norton laughed. "All right. First let me tell you that I talked to your husband this morning. Richard knows you're alive and well taken care of."
"How kind of you."
"I told him, he'll get you back, when he agrees to certain… conditions."
"What kind of conditions?"
"In exchange for you he gives me every piece of evidence he and your old friends Mason and Drake have collected about me - and he immediately resigns from his post."
Della swallowed. "Why should he resign?"
"He has to pay for his impertinence. He asked me for a favor, I helped him, and as a thank you gift, he tried to bring me down. I can't tolerate this act of trait."
"And with favor you mean the killing of Rebecca Powell?"
Norton sighed. "That was most unfortunate. I didn't mean to have her killed and neither did Richard, but she became too haughty and asked for too much. We had to eliminate her once and for all."
"And what about Paul Drake?" Della asked bitterly. "What's the excuse for his death?"
Norton shook his head. "You're asking the wrong man. I have nothing to do with his murder. By the time I learned about his crusade against me, he was already dead."
Della had a hard time believing his explanation. Who, if not Norton could be responsible for Paul's death? Wasn't Peter Hardcastle the one who had killed him?
"I'm telling you the truth, Della. Hardcastle did not murder Paul. I know Hardcastle was after him because Paul was digging into my past, but I did not order his murder and Hardcastle didn't pull the trigger. He wouldn't have made such a mess of it - literally and figuratively."
"Well, I can't say my son's kidnapping was well executed," Della remarked dryly, hoping to hide her surprise about what he had just said about Paul's murder.
Norton bowed his head and toyed with his fork. "That wasn't my call either. My men got impatient when your husband started talking to the FBI. I wanted them to take Richard, but for some reason they thought taking the boy would make a better bargain. I can only apologize for the inconvenience they have caused, but as you well remember, they paid dearly for their carelessness."
Della nodded. She did remember every second of that awful morning and she always would.
"Thanks to you a lot of people are dead. Don't you think it's time to end all this suffering?" she asked. "Aren't you tired of it? I know I am."
Norton grinned a cold smile. "I am tired, my dear. More than you think, but there are things I cannot accept. Not from your husband nor from Laura or your dear friend Perry Mason."
"In other words you're prepared to eliminate anyone who gets into your way," Della concluded.
"Exactly. And now it's time you had something to eat. My chef wouldn't forgive me, if you didn't taste his pancakes."
20th March 1962, Los Angeles
Laura was crying. Her sight was blinded by tears and her hands that were furiously clutching the steering wheel were shaking. She was in danger. In danger of losing everything, including her mind, perhaps her life. Once again she had trusted the wrong man and now she was paying for it. Her options were limited, but her raving brain had already come up with an idea of how to escape this mess. It was unethical and went against everything she was raised to believe in. The way ahead of her was one of no return and one day she would have to pay for her sins.
If there was one man who could protect her it was Perry Mason. He was strong, upright, and he had once loved her. He wasn't in love with her now though. She knew he had fallen for someone else. The kind of woman who was way better than her and the one he deserved. The girl friday. The one who wouldn't trap him. The one who would allow him to step back to do the right thing, if necessary.
Della Street wasn't the obstacle. She was the ultimate reason Laura had to go through with her plan, because she wouldn't fight as dirty as Laura did. Della Street was the good one after all.
###tbc###
