The Case of the Stolen Artifact
Chapter 23
1
Eve Whitfield jumped to the ground from the window of the villa. Fortunately, Tracy Oliver was there to help cushion her landing. Eve looked around. The villa was on a hill. Looking up, she saw cameras at both ends of the side of the villa. No doubt, that meant there was a good chance that cameras were on all sides of the villa.
"Now what?" Tracy asked.
"We run, and we'd better get started. If someone is in front of the computer monitoring the security system, they already know we've escaped." Eve pointed to the cameras.
"This isn't going to be easy. If I'd known I was going to have to run from thugs, I would have worn more appropriate shoes." She looked down at the pumps she was wearing and grimaced at the thought of the two inch hill.
Eve, knowing what situation she was entering when the chief sent her, had on dress shoes, but with a much lower heel. She would have no trouble running in them. "Take your heels off and carry them. We'll make better time."
Tracy did as Eve instructed. She reached down and removed her heels one at a time. The women began running down the hill away from the villa. Eve was at least twenty years younger and had to slow her pace as Tracy could not keep up with her. Being a police officer, Eve worked out to stay in shape. Tracy, on the other hand, didn't.
As they continued to run down the hill, they could hear a man shouting at his men in Italian. Since Eve understood just a little Italian, she was aware their escape had been discovered. She had hoped they would have more time to put some distance between them and the villa, but she supposed it really wasn't a surprise. Those cameras would have allowed the men holding them to discover their departure almost immediately.
They continued to run as the men began their pursuit of the prisoners. They knew they would be in big trouble if the two women got away. The man who owned the villa had promised a big score took place in San Francisco in America. They needed to keep them from contacting the American detective. The woman on trial had to be convicted of Howard Jergens' murder. There were a lot of people involved in the theft ring who would go down if the American officer learned what was going on.
Pierre wished he had taken the suggestion of keeping dogs on the premises. They could've have easily caught up with the two women. They wouldn't have been able to outrun them. The dogs would've caught up with them and held them until he arrived. He looked at the men who were with him. He estimated that three of the four men who were chasing the Americans were in their fifties. The other man had been drinking heavily and was having a tough time simply putting one foot in front of the other. He'd already fallen twice and tumbled a way down the hill before being able to stop his fall. Pierre figured all of them would run out of steam long before they caught up with the women.
Eve glanced over her shoulder. There were five men chasing them. In that short glance, she was able to size them up. Only two of them were under sixty or maybe fifty. They should be able to outrun them. From their condition, she doubted they could keep up an all-out run for very long. It was the other two who worried her. They were much younger and appeared to be in very good shape.
She wanted to run faster, but if she did, she would lose Tracy Oliver. As it was, Tracy was having a hard time keeping the pace Eve set. Whitfield worried her companion would give out before the men did. She took another look over her shoulder. Three of the men, as she expected, had quit the pursuit and were sitting on the grassy hill. The two younger men were still chasing them. As she began to turn her head forward, she saw one of the men trip and fall. He was tumbling down the hill head-over-heels. And, when he came to a stop, he didn't get back up. That left only one man. The odds had just turned in their favor. Eve was confident if he caught up with them, she and Tracy could handle him. That was . . . if he wasn't carrying a gun, and that was a big 'if.'
He was beginning to gain on them. Tracy was starting to slow. Eve continued to encourage her, yet she knew there was only so much she could take. They had reached the bottom of the hill and starting running along the road. If only someone would come by. But, Eve recognized it was wishful thinking on her part. She could see nothing but trees as far as her sight would allow. She couldn't give up. She wouldn't disappoint the chief. She was going to have Tracy Oliver on a plane back to San Francisco as soon as they were able to get back to Rome.
Pierre couldn't believe the two women were still running. Men were stronger than woman. Where were they getting their stamina? He wouldn't admit it to himself; he was beginning to tire. He slowed his pace a bit. He wasn't worried they would get away. There wasn't anywhere for them to go. They were miles outside of Rome and the road was rarely traveled. He would just have to wait them out. They would tire to the point of slowing. When they did, he would catch them. He made a mistake giving them the freedom to move around the room where he was holding them. Pierre admitted he should have tied them up. The American policewoman turned out to be rather resourceful. When he caught them, they would be tied up and gagged. He wouldn't take any more chances with either of them. He just didn't understand why he hadn't been ordered to kill them in the first place. Every minute they were alive, they presented a threat to the operation.
Tracy's pace was dangerously slowing. The man chasing them was gaining on them. Eve knew it was impossible to ask anymore of her. She had reached her limit of endurance. She had to find a place to hide. Glancing ahead Eve noticed there were a number of trees. If they could get to them, she could try to make a stand. Grabbing Tracy's arm, Eve pulled her in the direction of what she hoped would be enough cover to attempt take out the man. Once they reached the trees, Eve and Tracy sought cover behind one of them.
Officer Whitfield looked around for something she could use to defend themselves. She picked up a rather thick branch and held it as if she were a batter waiting for the pitcher to throw a baseball over the plate. She could hear the man approaching. With Tracy behind her, she waited. She prepared to swing the tree branch as he came around the tree. Instead of using it as the club she intended, a smile broke across her face.
Standing there in full uniform was Captain David Larkin. He grinned when he saw Eve's reaction. Captain Larkin had been found guilty of killing his wife and her lover, in part by the gun Robert Ironside found and turned in. Although, Larkin had been bitter over his friend not destroying the evidence, Ironside believed him to be innocent, and set out to prove it. He eventually was able to clear the captain and the real culprit was arrested and convicted.
"Hello, Eve. Don't worry about that guy," he said. "He's taking a nap."
Eve flew into his arms. "Boy, am I glad to see you! What are you doing here?"
Captain Larkin released her and explained. "Bob knew I was stationed here after the trial. He was worried about you. He found out the location of the villa and contacted me. He asked me to help you find Mrs. Oliver and see to it you both return to the states unharmed. He saved my life. I owed it to him. Not that I wouldn't have come after you anyway." He grinned at her. "Let's get the two of you out of here. We'll have to be careful. There are a lot of people who don't want to see you leave Italy alive. I'll have to take you to the American Embassy. Come on, ladies, let's get out of here before they send more men to look for you."
"I have to call the chief. I know who owns that villa. He has to know. It has a bearing on the case," Eve said.
"Bob explained all that to me. He said your safety comes first, so we get the Embassy first. You can call him from there. I have a car just down the road."
2
Ironside wheeled his chair into the chambers of Judge Herman Thatcher. Perry Mason and Ben Matlock followed him in. The judge eyed them cautiously. He didn't like seeing the defense team in his chambers without the district attorney present. Robert Ironside was a member of the police force, but it didn't make any difference to Thatcher. It was clear he was working with his brother. The judge saw these two men close up. They worked together extremely well Thatcher knew Ironside wasn't going to back off this case no matter who told him to. Someone had tried to frame him to keep him from investigating. There had been an attempt on his officer's life in the hospital and another officer shot dead trying to kill him.
This case smelled of a frame. Judge Thatcher would've preferred to dismiss it altogether, but unfortunately there still was the matter of Alexandra Hughes' fingerprints on the murder weapon. He doubted she put them there. More than likely someone pressed the gun into her hand. The deputy district attorney was so hell-bent on beating Mason, like a lot of prosecutors; he was blinded by what was right in front of him.
Nevertheless, he didn't approve of the defense team being in his chambers without Gary Sullivan. "Robert, you know better than this," he scolded the veteran detective.
"Your Honor, hear me out. Perry and Ben are just here as observers. I'll do all the talking," Ironside said.
Thatcher looked at Mason and Matlock. "With these two in the room, you expect me to believe they can keep their mouths shut?"
Ironside looked at Matlock and then at his brother. He turned his attention back to the judge. "No, my money is on them interrupting. They are shyster lawyers after all."
That seemed to break the tension as Judge Thatcher chuckled. "Well, this better be good. You know I don't like having the defense team in here without the prosecutor."
"We are not here to discuss the case," Matlock said.
"That didn't take long," Thatcher quipped causing everyone to start laughing.
"I'll do the talking," Ironside reminded Ben. Turning his attention back to Thatcher, he said, "Your Honor, you have to have some serious questions about this case by now."
"It doesn't make any difference whether I do. I have to let it run its course before I decide whether to bind it over for trial."
"We know that. However, we don't have that luxury. This has to be ended here in the preliminary hearing. We believe we know a way to discover who the killer is, or least who is heading this conspiracy."
"Can you prove conspiracy, Robert?"
"Not at the moment, but that's what we intend to do, with your permission."
"Since when does the police department need my permission to prove a conspiracy?" Thatcher asked.
"We don't, but we do need your permission to subpoena the city council's records," Ironside told him.
"Can't the commissioner help you get a look at them?"
"I doubt it. If one of the city council members is responsible for this, then he or she will do everything he or she can to stop it," Ironside explained.
"What makes you think one of them has anything to do with this?"
"We discovered funds have been embezzled from the city," Ironside told him. "Some of those funds went to Sergeant Terry Cox. Some of them ended up in the account of the man who lied about seeing me with Alexandra Hughes. "
"Isn't that the officer who tried to frame you and kill Officer Duffy?"
"That is correct, Your Honor," Ironside confirmed.
"Why didn't you say so in the first place? You have your subpoena. How are you going to serve it without the culprit knowing? If you tip him off, he could destroy crucial documents," Thatcher warned.
"This is Friday, Your Honor. None of the council members will be in tonight or over the weekend. Commissioner Randall can get us in," Ironside responded.
"And if the commissioner is the one embezzling? He has access to quite a bit of money, doesn't he?"
"He does, but I have all his records. He turned them over to me when I asked for them. They are in complete order," the chief reported.
"Huh, I doubt that, Robert. You have a reputation for fudging the numbers when you fail to keep all your receipts. Dennis is always covering up for the records you keep. However, that's good enough for me. I didn't believe for a minute that Dennis was guilty of anything, but we have to cover all our bases. I'll have the clerk draw up the subpoena."
"Thank you, Your Honor," Ironside said as he turned his chair to go.
"Robert, one last thing. Why did you bring these men with you? You could've seen me on your own. You took a chance I wouldn't see you at all with them with you."
"I made a bet with Dennis. He warned me not to bring Perry and Ben with me to your chambers. You see, I know the commissioner. I knew he couldn't resist making a bet with me. Despite not originally planning to bring them, I decided to so I could relieve Dennis of some of his money."
Thatcher chuckled. "What bet did Dennis make?"
"First, $20.00 that you wouldn't allow them in without the prosecutor and second, $20.00 that if you did, neither of them could keep quiet the entire time they were in here," Ironside said with a grin. "He figured if you did let them in, he'd get his money back on the second bet."
"Then it's a wash, Bob. I didn't say a word," Perry said.
"Thank you, Perry. I thought it was going to be a wash, but you just won the $40.00 for me."
"How do you figure?" Mason asked.
"I said the entire time you were in here. You're still here." His grin spread wider.
Judge Thatcher started laughing. "Get out of here, gentlemen. Give the clerk a little time, and then pick up the subpoena on your way out."
3
Sergeant Ed Brown and Lieutenant Grant Becker stopped just down the road from the villa owned by Francois Montre. Becker pointed to an area where the trees were thick. "Lieutenant, pull in there. We need to get this vehicle out of sight."
Becker pulled the vehicle between the trees and drove far in enough to hide the vehicle from anyone who might be driving down the road. As soon as they got out of the vehicle, several service men came from where they were hiding. Becker walked directly over to the ranking officer. "Lieutenant Brenton, this is Sergeant Ed Brown of Chief Ironside's office in San Francisco."
Ed stepped forward and shook hands with the officer. Becker explained, "These gentlemen are special forces. Lieutenant Brenton called his superiors. They got in contact with the Pentagon, who in turn called the White House. President Whitmore has authorized the rescue of the woman. If you will wait here, we will go after her."
"I'm going with you," Ed said.
"No, Sergeant. This is a special forces operation. You need to remain here with Lieutenant Becker. We'll bring back your friend." He turned to leave, then suddenly turned back. "We'll bring her back alive. The president made it clear we aren't to let them harm her." He turned and started giving orders to his men. A moment later, they were gone.
Lieutenant Becker watched Sergeant Brown as he paced back and forth. He could only imagine what he was thinking. He had learned enough to know the woman was close to Chief Robert Ironside. Brown had on obvious admiration for the detective. If the special forces team was unable to save the woman, he could only imagine how he'd feel for letting his boss down. For all they knew, the woman was already dead. The phone call by Montre was made more than an hour ago. She could have been killed immediately afterward.
Ed had to see that Katherine was rescued and returned to the chief. And, he was unhappy about being left behind. The chief had sent him to find her and bring her back to him. Yet, here he was, standing around waiting for someone else to do his job. He had been a Marine. He was perfectly capable of rescuing Katherine. Then again, why did they enlist the president's help if he wasn't going to let them do their job? It was the waiting that was driving him crazy. He supposed he now knew how the chief felt when forced to wait on someone else because of his disability.
Katherine looked out the window of the room she where she was being held. How she would love to visit this county under different circumstances. France was beautiful. Maybe someday she could get Robert to take a vacation here. Robert . . . would she ever see him again? She wasn't kidding herself. If she had been kept here to keep her from testifying she hadn't visited the museum, then what was to stop her from going back and telling Robert she had been nowhere near it? She knew the answer to that question. Death . . . that was what would stop her. Her kidnapper just couldn't afford to allow her to do that.
As she stared out of the window, she thought she saw movement among the trees. She kept looking to see if her eyes were playing tricks on her. There it was again! She saw someone moving from tree to tree. If she could see them, then so could her captors. No, that wasn't true. There were only two of them and they were on the other side of the villa. They knew she couldn't escape. The door was locked. She couldn't breech it in any way. It was an extremely heavy door and there wasn't anything in the room she could use to even try to open it.
If they thought she couldn't get out, they wouldn't be watching her that closely. She had to let whomever was out there know she was being held prisoner. Katherine looked around the room. What could she used to alert them? Her eyes rested on the desk. Maybe there was something in that desk. She hurried over to it and started searching the drawers. She smiled when she located a magic marker. It would do nicely.
Katherine walked back to the window and thought for a moment. She would have to write backward in order for them to read her message. Grabbing a chair, she pulled it over to the window, and stood on it. She started at the top of the window. 'HELP, BEING HELD PRISONER. CALL POLICE.'
Satisfied she'd handwritten it as large as possible, she could only hope someone out there would see it. It could be her only chance of coming out of this alive. Hopefully, whoever was out there could read English. Now all she could do was wait.
As the special forces team made their way toward the villa, Lieutenant Brenton spoke to his men with the microphone that was attached to his uniform. "No one moves in until I give the order."
"Sir, this is Sergeant Johnson. Something has been written in the window."
"What is it?"
"I think it's from the subject, sir. It reads, Help, being held prisoner. Call Police."
"Location?"
"Second floor, west side. First window toward the front of the house."
"You all heard that. Let's go."
Speaking in French, a very excited guard burst into the room his partner was in. "I just got a call from our contact at the American Embassy. The American president authorized a rescue of the woman. He said the woman is associated with the famous American detective, who is a friend of the president. This place is going to be crawling with U.S. special forces. We need to take the woman and get out of here."
"The hell with the woman. Why would Montre have us kidnap a woman who has anything to do with a friend of the American president? He must be crazy. I'm getting the hell out of here."
"But what about the money?"
"You can't spend money if you're dead."
"You go ahead. I intend to kill her. I'll make the money."
"Suit yourself." He left his partner and headed for the back door of the villa.
As the special forces team moved in, they ran into no resistance. The men entered the villa and spread out to locate Katherine Denuerve. Checking every room in the villa, Lieutenant Brenton came upon one with a locked door. He signaled for his men to kick in the door.
The American team was so silent, Katherine didn't even hear them approach. Suddenly the door was slammed open. She turned to see men in American armed forces uniforms.
"Mrs. Denuerve?" Brenton asked.
"Yes," she answered immediately.
"Sergeant Ed Brown of Chief Ironside's office, with the help of Lieutenant Becker contacted the White House. The president sent us in to bring you out safely."
Katherine calmed immediately. Robert had sent Ed to find her! Thank God he was a detective. He must have figured out that she'd been lured here because of his current case.
"Come on. Sergeant Brown is waiting for you. He wanted to come himself, but I ordered him to stay behind," Brenton told her. Two of his men stepped forward and escorted her out of the villa. When she arrived where Brown was waiting, he smiled and she went into his arms. "Robert sent you?"
Ed looked down at her and replied, "Just as soon as he discovered you were missing. We'd better call him. He's worried sick about you."
"Is he?" Katherine asked.
Ed gave her a funny look. "Of course he is, Katherine."
Katherine wondered whether it was out of love for her or just out of concern. She couldn't help but question if he was more worried about Alexandra Hughes.
Suddenly, one of the special forces men pointed his weapon at Katherine. The other men brought their weapons up immediately, attempting to determine where the danger was. Ed Brown and Lieutenant Becker didn't hesitate; they grabbed Katherine and dove to the ground.
When the man turned his weapon downward toward them, Lieutenant Brenton pointed his gun at him and fired. He fell to ground and dropped his automatic weapon. Brenton hurried over to him and picked up it up. "Why? You have been part of this team for six years."
Bleeding from a chest wound, Sergeant Johnson was barely alive. As blood poured out of his mouth, he spoke barely above a whisper, "When my wife was taken by terrorists, a rescue wasn't authorized until it was too late. A friend of the president appeals to him and he sends us in immediately. No one cared about my wife. She died. He offered me money to kill her. Enough to take care of my kids for the rest of their lives."
Ed helped Katherine to her feet. Leaving her, he walked over to the man. "Who paid you?"
"The ambassador. He said he couldn't let her live. He didn't tell me why." Sergeant Johnson's head turned and he took his last breath as his eyes stared straight ahead.
"Pick him up and take him back to the vehicle." He turned to Ed and Katherine. "I'm sorry. He never gave me any indication he was capable of something like this."
"It explains a lot," Lieutenant Becker said.
"What do you mean?" Brenton asked.
"Grant means it explains why Ambassador Trevor didn't want to help us to get into see Francois Montre. He's the one who lured Katherine over here under false pretenses."
"He's very powerful. The ambassador is in his pocket. Some in the embassy have been trying to get Ambassador Trevor recalled, but haven't been able to. They claim he is dirty," Brenton said.
"The two of them must be connected to the case back in San Francisco," Ed said. "Speaking of the case, we need to get back. Katherine has to testify she was never in the museum."
"There is a military transport ready to take you back to the states," Brenton said.
"I need to call the chief," Ed said.
"You can do that aboard the plane," Brenton told him.
Ed turned to Lieutenant Grant Becker. "Lieutenant, I can't thank you enough for what you did. I'll tell the chief how you helped us." He offered his hand to Becker who shook it.
"My pleasure, Ed. Say hello to the chief for me."
"Will do."
"Well, gentlemen. I suggest we get going," Becker said.
4
There was a silence in the city council meeting room. Judge Thatcher had issued a subpoena for the financial records of the council dating back to when every member of the council had been elected to their seat. Unfortunately, that dated back twenty-two years. The longest serving members were Herb Gallagher, Ross Jamison, Donna Wilson, and Patrick Simpson. The rest of the members were fairly new.
At one table, Ben Matlock and Conrad McMasters were going through records dating all the way back to the beginning of the twenty-two years. Mark Sanger, Carl Reese, and Chief Ironside were at another table with the middle years, and Perry and Della at another with the most current years. Paul Drake had called to say he got a lead and wanted to pursue it.
Coffee cups were everywhere, empty fast food bags littered the tables, and papers covered nearly every inch of the table set up to accommodate the city council's records. For nearly four hours all of them checked every piece of paper that had been filed away in the basement of the Hall of Justice. Perry and Della perhaps had the easier assignment as all their records were on computer.
The door to the conference room opened and Commissioner Randall walked in. He looked around the room at all the paper spread everywhere and explained, "You know you have to put all that back in chronological order don't you, Bob?"
"Right now, Dennis, the only thing on my mind is finding out who was stealing from the city. You didn't come here to tell me we have to spend the next two weeks filing papers, did you?"
Randall smiled. "No, I came downstairs because I received a couple of phone calls. They called my office because they received no answer at your office."
Ironside turned to his boss. "Who called?" He could almost feel his heart pounding. Waiting on news of Katherine and Tracy had tried his patience. The chief hoped Ed and Eve had finally reported in.
Commissioner Randall was elated he could relay the news to Bob Ironside. Despite his poker face, he knew how worried he had to be over Katherine and Tracy . . . especially Katherine. The calls came from Ed and Eve." He paused long enough that Ironside couldn't wait.
"Well, what did they say?" His full attention was on Dennis Randall. Searching the city council records suddenly became unimportant compared with the news his friend had for him.
"Ed and Eve were successful in rescuing Katherine and Tracy Oliver. Both ladies are fine."
Relief flooded the detective. A huge weight had just been lifted from his shoulders. "What about the men who lured them there?"
"First of all, Bob. Eve was able to escape and take Tracy with her. A friend of yours helped them get away."
"Captain David Larkin?"
Surprised, Randall asked him, "How did you know that?"
"I knew he was stationed there. I called him and asked him to help Eve."
"Well, he did. He put them on plane. They're on their way back here."
"What about Katherine?"
"Ed had some help from a Lieutenant Grant Becker. He contacted the Pentagon, who in turn contacted President Whitmore. He sent in a special forces team. One of the members of the team was paid to kill Katherine, but Ed and Becker were able to protect her. The man in charge of the unit shot and killed the one who tried to kill her."
"The president had them put her on a military plane. She and Ed are on their way back right now."
"And the men who lured them?"
"Francois Montre has been arrested and so has Ambassador Trevor. Apparently they've been part of a theft and smuggling ring. In Italy, Nino Martini has also been arrested. The president even got the State Department involved. The villas of both of these men have been raided. Millions of dollars of stolen artifacts, paintings, you name it, have been confiscated. Bob, paintings which were stolen from museums and people here in San Francisco were found. Eve has cut your search down to one person. One of our city council members owns the villa Tracy Oliver was lured to."
That caught everyone's attention. They stopped what they were doing and joined the commissioner and the chief.
"Who is it?" Mason asked.
"I've pulled the the records of the council member for you." He handed Perry Mason a manila folder.
Mason handed some of the papers to Ben Matlock. "This has been going on for years, Bob. I think we've discovered a world-wide smuggling ring."
The door opened and Paul Drake walked in. He was sporting a huge grin. "Have I got news for you!"
"What is it, Paul?" Della asked.
"Apparently Kevin Powers kept a separate video of what happened the night of the murder." Drake walked over to Mason and Matlock. Looking back at Ironside, he said, "Chief, you're going to want to see this too. I think we have our murderer on video!" Paul was grinning from ear to ear.
As they finished watching the video, the door opened and Commissioner Randall's secretary walked in. "Yes, Betsy, what is it?"
"The hospital called. They've been trying to reach Chief Ironside. Police Headquarters told them to call our office." She looked at Robert Ironside and said, "Chief, the doctors have brought Officer Duffy out of the drug-induced coma. He is awake and says he must talk to you. He knows who murdered Howard Jurgens."
"Well, Perry," Ironside grinned, "It's time you do your usual; pull that proverbial rabbit out of your hat and blow this case out of the water."
Mason returned the grin. "You know what this means, Bob?"
"Yes, I get my bathroom back," Ironside answered.