Thank you all so much for your messages and reviews. I really appreciate your support :-) Here we go with the next chapter! The plot thickens...

Chapter 8 - United we stand, divided we fall

"You're enjoying yourself immensely, aren't you?" Richard asked, once he and Perry had agreed on every detail of their plan to provide Della with an alibi.

"Do I look as if I've enjoyed myself?" Perry shot back, his blue eyes fixed on Della's husband.

Richard's eyes glittered with hostility. "My guess is yes. Finally, you can force your old antics on me, because Della needs someone to cover up a crime she didn't commit. You must be having a field day!"

"Not that it matters to you, but I actually find no pleasure, whatsoever, in this situation. On the contrary: I'm only doing this for her."

"It's called obstruction of justice. It's called tampering with evidence."

"It is," Perry confirmed. "Do you have a better idea to keep her out of prison? If so, be my guest!"

Richard didn't and Perry knew it. At this point, he didn't care much for the laws he was breaking. He was thinking of Della and her son. He knew her biggest fear was for him and how this mess could affect him.

"Don't you think I'm not aware of the fact that you can keep holding this over our heads for the rest of our lives?"

"Then you will have to trust me on this."

"And what about your wife?" Richard asked. "Who's to say Laura will play along?"

"I'll make sure she cooperates," Perry stated and lit himself a cigarette. "You'll have nothing to fear from Laura."

"I don't share your confidence in her."

"Right now, you have no other choice," Perry said. "Della's freedom depends on it. Will you really risk it by admitting the victim was shot while she was under the shower? And what if the police get wind of the photos and find out he was part on Della's abduction that night? She'll be in custody sooner than you can say 'obstruction of justice'."

"I'm aware of the consequences." Richard scoffed, "I bet you never hesitated once when she called you. You relish in the fact that she asked your help."

"Della's my friend and I would rather die than let her down. And, for what it matters, I would do the same for you, if she asked me to."

"And why's that?" Richard asked curiously.

"Because she loves you."

Richard let Perry's last statement sink in. Della entered the living room. She was now wearing the same clothes as in Perry's office. Wistfully, Perry remembered the stolen moments of not so suppressed desire, wondering what had happened, if he hadn't let her go.

He cleared his throat. "All right, Della." He handed her the keys to his car. "I want you to drive to my apartment building. Wait there for half an hour before you come back. It should be after two o'clock by then. Make sure the doorman sees you when you come back. Richard and I will take care of the police. Remember, you came home… you only picked up a present that you forgot. You've only been in here less than five minutes and you've never been inside the bedroom. Where's the towel?"

She showed him the small bag in her hand. "Good, leave it in my trunk. I'll take care of it later. What about the shower?"

"I cleaned it." She gave him a nod and a warm smile. "Thank you."

He smiled back and squeezed her hand. "Not quite yet." She turned to Richard, bent down to kiss him and then she was gone.

"Let's get to work." Perry said and handed Richard the phone.

"Don't forget… you found the front door already open and when you came inside you found the body…."


Laura arrived in the worst of moods to Perry's office. First he hadn't come home the night before and then she had seen his face plastered all over the morning paper together with Richard Carlisle. Apparently, the men had found the corpse of someone in Richard's apartment in Georgetown. She hadn't even finished reading the article when her phone rang and Perry had summoned her to his office. She hoped he had a good excuse for not coming home and not calling her sooner. What had he done in Carlisle's apartment anyway? She didn't like this development and she feared there was worse to come.

"Perry! What is this all about?" she asked, when she stormed inside his office. She had expected to find him behind his desk, but he wasn't. She looked around and heard the sound of running water from the small bathroom in the back of the office. She went there and found him in front of the mirror shaving his face.

"Good morning," he greeted her, as he dried his face with a towel "Did you bring the shirt?"

She placed a bag next to him on the sink. "As ordered," she answered smugly.

"Thank you."

"I read the papers this morning. You had a busy night!"

"Yes. That's why I wanted to talk to you."

For someone who found the victim of a brutal murder only hours ago, his mood was almost jovial. The glitter in his eyes aroused her suspicion. This was about the murder and he was back in his old turf. "Talking to me is certainly a new strategy of yours. I'll get myself a coffee."

Ten minutes, later the couple had settled down at the conference table. Over coffee and cigarettes, Perry explained in, short words, what had happened in the Carlisle's apartment, always watching Laura in the corner of his eye. He didn't mention the incriminating photos or the fact that he had been in contact with Della for the last two weeks. He still didn't believe she was involved in any of this, but, being careful, couldn't hurt. The less she knew about Della and the photos the better.

He could tell the story was unnerving her. Everything about Della used to unnerve her and always would. Her wrinkled forehead and her clenched jaws spoke volumes about the emotions inside her. So far, he didn't know what would get the upper hand - anger or desperation.

"Are you actually telling me I have to give Della an alibi for last night?" She asked upset. The ash of her cigarette fell onto the polished plate of the table.

"Only if it becomes necessary, but I doubt it. The police seemed satisfied with the explanation of Richard finding the corpse and Della being out."

"Why did she call you of all people?" Laura asked sharply.

"She figured she needed a lawyer," Perry answered soberly, which caused Laura to react with a sour smile.

"Della never struck me as the one who played the damsel-in-distress- card. Perhaps you were her first choice for another reason than your former occupation as a lawyer?"

"And what do you mean by that?"

Laura grabbed her purse and pulled out a single photograph. She pushed it straight across the tabletop to Perry. "How long have you been sleeping with her behind my back?"

Perry took a look at the photo. It seemed to belong to the series of photograph he had been sent, but he had never laid eyes on this one before. Della was alone in this picture. Her naked body was spread all over an old fashioned chaise lounge and she looked dreamily into the camera. If he didn't know about the circumstances of the photo shooting the picture could be called sensual. How could Laura get hold of it?

"Where did you get that?" He asked coldly.

Victory written all over her face, Laura leaned back in her chair. "So it is true! Tell me, does her husband already know about this? Did you tell him you were screwing his wife when you helped him cover up a murder scene?"

"I asked you a question!" Perry yelled.

She scoffed and shrugged. "It was in your drawer. The locked one - of course."

He turned to look at his desk. "Well, I didn't put it there." He rose and unlocked the drawer with the key from his set. He searched the drawer with fierce accuracy.

"It was the only one," Laura told him gleefully as she joined him. "Who would have thought... the ever so proper Della Street. It was a bit careless of you to hide the photo in your office. Perhaps, you should have kept it closer to your heart..."

Exasperated, he closed the drawer and turned to Laura. Her tirade annoyed the hell out of him. His mind was raving with questions about how this photo could have ended up in his possession. "I told you. I didn't know anything about it. And I'm not cheating on you. Not with Della or with anyone else!"

"Then where have you been for the last two weeks?" she shouted back. "Do you think I'm an idiot? You are never home and you constantly fly from one coast to the other."

"Counter question: what did you do in a bar in Sacramento last month?"

Laura's face lost all its color. "How can you..."

"It doesn't matter how I know, just that I do know, for a fact, that you were there. Answer my question!"

He had taken her by complete surprise. He saw in her eyes how she quickly contemplated one lie after the other, before she settled for the truth. "I met someone who made me a job offer," she confessed quietly.

"A job offer?" He didn't hide his sarcasm. After their wedding and the loss of their child, Laura hadn't worked a day for her living. She was ambitious, yes, but she had projected all of her energy in his career instead into one of her own.

"Yes. I told him I would consider it."

"What kind of job?" He asked.

"Do you really care?" Truth was, he didn't. At least not at this point. He ignored her question and continued to cross examine her. "Who did you talk to?"

"His name is Glen Robertson. He owns a real estate company. What is this all about?"

"Why did you open that drawer? And when did you steal my key?!" Aside from the fact that he was utterly confused by the sudden emergence of the photo, it really got to him that Laura invaded his privacy like that.

"I didn't have to. I found one on your secretary's desk."

"I never gave Rebecca a key to this desk."

"Then, maybe you should ask her why she had one," Laura suggested snappishly.

"Believe me, I will," Perry said. "And now, let's go back to the heart of our problem. In case the police question you, you will say that Della was your guest. All evening. For old times' sake. And you will be convincing."

"And if I refuse to play a part in this ridiculous charade?" She asked.

"Then, you should call Mr. Robertson and ask him if his offer still stands. If Della has to stand trial because of you, all of us will lose everything. I'll step out of the race for the upcoming election to defend her, if necessary. Carlisle will lose his career, and you will lose your raison d'être, because I doubt Capitol Hill will be interested in you once I turn my back on it. You see, Laura, the four of us will swim or sink together. It's your choice!"


Sunday, 28th October 1973

Paul Drake pulled the beanie deeply over his forehead, making sure every bit of his grey hair was covered by it.

The building, he had been watching for the last six hours, was deserted. He had paid the guy with the photo equipment another visit and had presented him a photo of the murder victim. He could identify the man and was sure he was the one who had accompanied the red head the last couple of times. After a generous tip, the man also suddenly remembered that he had once mentioned an old photo studio that he wanted to reopen. It had taken Paul the whole day to find this place. It was rented by a young man named Peter Smith. Paul didn't bother to check the name out. The rest had been easy. From the landlord, he had learned that a young woman paid for the rent for the former photo studio - in cash. She was a red head and in her early thirties. A red head was in photos, a red head who bought the lingerie, a red head who paid the rent... there's no such thing as coincidence. Now, he needed to find a way inside to search the rooms, hoping he would find something that helped him with getting Della out of this mess.

With growing anticipation, he turned the lock pick in his hands and crossed the street. In the small alley that led to the back door, the street lamp was broken. He didn't want to use a pocket light, so it took him longer than usual to pick the lock. Once it was done, he sighed with relief and sneaked quickly inside. He pulled out the pocket light. Within the small beam of light, he found all he needed to know. He found the right place.

~tbc~