Chapter 10 - Zugzwang

Washington D.C., Wednesday, 31st October 1973

"Mason, we have a problem!" A determined Richard Carlisle wheeled his way past Perry's perplexed secretary and stopped right in front of the desk. Perry, who was still on the phone, looked up in surprise, but finished his call instantly.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of having you here?" He asked sourly.

"I just had a call from the D.A. concerning my wife," Carlisle said angrily. "This is your fault! If you and Drake had been more careful, none of this would have happened!"

Perry gave his secretary a hasty look. "Becca, would you please close the door behind you?"

She nodded. "Of course, Sir."

Still bewildered regarding Carlisle's harsh behavior, Becca did as ordered as Perry leaned back in his chair. Earnest concern clouded his face when he realized that Becca had not closed the door completely. He gave Richard a meaningful glance and, when he spoke again, his voice did not give away to the rising anger inside of him. "What happened now?"

"Someone sent some of those disgusting photos of Della to the investigating detective who, thankfully enough, gave them straight to the D.A. He's an old friend, so he made sure they vanished, but the police will want to talk to her. Now, she's right in the middle of the investigation we wanted to keep her out of!"

"Well, there was no way to guarantee the discovery of the negatives would stop other pictures from being out there!"

"You know what I think?" Richard barked. "Whoever did this to her found out we have the negatives and is now playing their end game."

"Their end game?" Perry asked sardonically. "What could that be? Everyone who knows about you must be aware that you have the police in your pocket. Sending these pictures to the police must be a very desperate attempt to incriminate Della! No one can prove she killed that man. Remember what the autopsy report stated? First, the victim had been sedated to immobilize him and then he was killed with a big, sharp object – perhaps a kitchen knife that has not been found yet. No knife is missing from your kitchen and nothing incriminating was ever found in your apartment. And since the photos have so conveniently vanished, no one can prove Della ever even knew the victim."

"I don't have anyone in my pocket!" Carlisle hissed. "Don't you dare claim I'm abusing my position to protect my wife!"

"Well, you do, don't you? At first, you were quite happy with the idea that I do the dirty work, but now your own hands are going to get dirty. It's not pretty being on the other side, is it?"

"You disgust me!" Carlisle turned his wheelchair. "Stay away from Della! I am taking care of this matter now."

"Will you be at the party tonight?" Perry asked.

Carlisle stopped. "Of course. Della was against it, at first, but, under the circumstances, it is best to take the high road. We will show everyone we're not scared and we have nothing to hide."

Perry scoffed. "It could turn out to be the road of perdition, if you ask me. The corpse in your apartment did not help the cause. The trust in you is fading and so your poll numbers will drop rather sooner than later."

Carlisle's reply came with a sour smile. "I knew you would use this to your advantage. Della thinks the world of you, but I guess she's in for a disappointment very soon."

"You would be surprised to hear she knows me better than you think?"

"I doubt it."

Richard Carlisle left the office and Perry sighed loudly, wondering how much of the conversation had been pretense and how much an exchange of ugly truths.


"Zugzwang? What's the meaning of this?" Ruben Carlisle, dressed in a green alien costume with two tropes on his head, looked with narrowed eyebrows over his father's shoulder and pointed at the word in the crossword.

Carlisle smiled up to his son and explained. "Zugzwang is a situation in which one player is put at a disadvantage because they must make a move when they would prefer to pass and not move. The player is compelled to move and that means that their position will become significantly weaker."

"It means you have a problem, because you have to do something that will make you lose the chess game," Della explained when she came into the room. "And now, Gentlemen, what do you think? Do I look all right for the circus?" She asked and whirled around.

Her dress was a last minute choice because she had never intended to attend the party until Perry had convinced her otherwise. It was a high necked, black silk dress in Morticia Adams styling. Since she had lost enough weight to pull it off, she had chosen something to underline her slim shape. Aside from that, it also perfectly fitted the ridiculous masks they were supposed to wear as soon as they arrived at the party.

"You look like a million bucks, Mom!" Ruben said with a large smile.

"Or, to use a more sophisticated expression, simply gorgeous," Richard added. "People will turn their heads after you."

"I'd prefer them to look after themselves," Della said dryly.

"The way you look, I could think of a thousand other ways to spend the night, but we promised to go." Richard gave her a meaningful glance. "Perhaps tonight is our lucky night."

Della checked her watch. "Where's Paul? I thought he said he'd be here at seven sharp."

"It's not even seven yet," Richard said. "Don't be so nervous!"

The doorbell rang. "I'll take it!" Ruben yelled and vanished into the hallway.

"Are you sure Paul Drake is the right choice for a 'babysitter'?" Richard asked, now that his son was out of sight.

"I would entrust Paul with my life," Della said without hesitation. "He will take good care of Ruben. I'd rather have him here than some policeman I don't know."

"You really think Mason knows what he's doing, right?" Richard asked worried. "You don't mind playing bait for his little scheme?"

"No, I don't." Again, her words were filled with confidence. He would never understand her trust in a man who had hurt her so much, but now was not the time to bring this old subject up. She went to him and bent down to squeeze his hand. "As you said, perhaps tonight is our lucky night."


"I cannot believe I agreed to be a part of this stupid little scheme!" Laura complained, as she and Perry entered the venue of the masquerade ball. It was a grand sized penthouse that belonged to a consortium of oil tycoons. Perry had heard it was used for all kinds of events - mostly discreet parties with the according pleasures for already elected politicians. It reached over two levels with an open staircase and an adjoined balcony that seemed just as big as below the stairs.

"What's so bad about this party? Since when do you not like to dress up?" He asked amused.

"This has nothing to do with what I like and or do not like! If that woman is really as clever as you think she is, she won't fall for your trap!"

"I'm willing to hope she feels forced to act. I think a room full of people who smoke, drink, dance, and wear masks over their faces is the perfect opportunity for her to strike."

Perry looked around. The penthouse was already filled with costumed people that had their faces covered. What most of them didn't know was that at least fifteen undercover agents and police officers were among them. Notable guests like a governor and two senators had been informed about the police operation and had agreed to stay away.

"And if she does... who says no one will get hurt?" Laura asked and gripped for his arm. She had chosen a blue dress from the roaring twenties whose color perfectly matched her eyes under the silver colored silk mask.

Did he really see honest concern in those eyes? It had been such a long time since they had been on the same page that it felt strange to see a real emotional response from her.

"There's no guarantee of anything," he said and placed his hand over hers. "We'll do our best to keep everyone safe!" he added. She stretched a little and kissed his lips, before she intertwined his fingers with hers.

"I love you," she whispered against his mouth. "I really do." Taken by complete surprise, he did not know what to say. He couldn't remember a moment, in the last couple of months, when they had actually exchanged 'I love yous'. A reply on his behalf became unnecessary, because someone yelled his name across the room.

"Mason! Come over here and let me tell you how great your wife looks tonight!"

Perry offered Laura his arm. "Let's go!"


Just as Perry had told her, Della tried to separate from the party crowd every occasionally. She was standing at the banister on the upper floor and looked down on the mingling guests while smoking a cigarette. They had arrived over two hours ago and, so far, no stranger had tried to get close to her and the only red head she had seen, so far, was the reincarnation of Cat Woman from a sixty's TV show. She was mostly dancing with a man who dressed up like the Joker. She smirked and looked out for Perry. Her mood was sinking like a plane in landing approach when she couldn't find his tall appearance in the Zorro costume. Every time her eyes roamed the penthouse to watch out for Perry, they found Laura first. Laura, in her flapper dress who was clinging to her husband like ivy to a dying tree. She didn't like to be this jealous, but she couldn't help it either. Perhaps she should just accept her feelings as part of her existence and get on with her life.

Then, her eyes finally came to rest on Perry. He was standing close to the door that led out on the balcony. He caught her gaze and, despite Laura pressed against his side, he gave her a toast and smiled.

A waitress came along with a tray and offered her champagne. Glad to have something else to do than smoking, she quickly took the glass and returned the toast. Then, the spell was broken, because Laura had noticed their silent interaction and did her best to disrupt Perry. She turned him around and pointed to a man who was outside talking to Richard. Della rolled her eyes in annoyance and finished the glass in one gulp. Laura would always be Laura - unable to cope with people who didn't give her their full and undivided attention.

Another waitress passed her and Della returned her empty glass without taking a new one. She should have eaten something at the buffet, but she hadn't been hungry and now she was paying the price. She became dizzy and her stomach protested. With her hand on the hand rail, she made her way to the staircase. The room started to spin around her and she didn't know what to do with her feet. She grabbed the rail with her other hand and tried to steady herself. She inhaled deeply, hoping it would clear her head. It didn't. Instead, her dizziness worsened and she suddenly felt sick. The realization she just had been drugged or poisoned with something hit her like a train. While she tried everything not to collapse, she tried to remember the woman who had given her the champagne. Black hair... she remembered black hair... she wore a mask... the other waitresses hadn't... There had only been one glass on the tray... one glass... one glass... how stupid of her... how very stupid... Panic flooded her. She made one step forward and then she lost her balance. Someone was suddenly next to her, grabbed her arm, but it was too late. She fell, turning over and over and over again, until she hit the end of the stair case. Suddenly, everything was quiet and then there was nothing but painless darkness.

~~~tbc~~~

Thanks for reading and not giving up on me :-) I promise the next chapters will follow soon!