"I think I've found something, sir," Jackson stated solemnly, seating himself in the across from Perry Mason's massive desk. "Now this is entirely preliminary and I hesitate to make any sort of report without first obtaining independent verification of all the facts. However, you were quite pointed in your desire for haste in completing this assignment and so I hope that you will be cognizant of the fact that my information may be -."
"What do you have? Spill it!" the other lawyer commanded.
"Well, I seem to have found a pattern." Jackson sat back in the chair, pushing up his glasses and waiting patiently.
Mason sighed. "I don't want to put this out of you a piece at a time, Jackson. What are you talking about?"
"The Coyote Mine is not the only questionable investment scheme being perpetrated by the Cooper Capital Investment Corporation."
"No? What else is going on?" Mason leaned forward in his chair and eyed the smaller man intently.
Jackson squirmed slightly. Perry Mason tended to make him want to turn tail and run. The man was altogether too reliant on the intangibles. Jackson believed in research - cold, hard research to verify that his choices could stand the greater scrutiny of the courts. Mason believed in charting new courses and creating precedents, rather than living by them.
"Well it seems that the majority of the larger investments the company manages are proving difficult to chart. Their boards of directors are almost totally peopled with Cooper's staff and the hard assets are virtually untraceable."
"So Cooper is running a series of scams? What kind of money are we talking?"
"I don't have anything close to an exact figure," he hesitated, but saw the impatience in his employer's expression. "I'd say several hundred thousand – possibly as much as one or two million."
Mason whistled. "What can you prove?"
"Nothing so far. But I've found some fairly compelling paper trails. I thought perhaps the best course of action at this point is to turn everything over to the Securities and Exchange Commission and see what they are willing to do with the information."
Perry Mason sat back in his chair. After a moment's thought he said, "I think you're right, Jackson. Put together a report of your findings and contact the SEC. We'll let them be the bulldogs on this one."
Jackson nodded and got to his feet. "There is one other thing, and this might need to be handled by the District Attorney, rather than a civic authority."
"The D.A.? Well? Spit it out!" Mason was on his feet, leaning on his hands, spread flat on his desk's surface.
"It's their charity work." Jackson looked grim, in a milquetoast fashion. "I think you could make a strong case that Mr. and Mrs. Cooper are funneling money directly from their charity work into their personal accounts. What's odd is that this bit of fraud is almost amateurish compared to the other schemes Cooper's company is perpetrating."
Mason stared at his clerk for a long moment. "The charity. Mrs. Cooper's charity." His voice was distant, almost distracted.
"Yes, I believe she is the president," Jackson said, opening a file to consult his notes. "She and Mr. Cooper are hosting fund raising event for the charity this weekend."
"Yes they are," Mason replied, rounding the desk and grabbing for his hat. "Tell Della I'm going to get Paul and then he and I are going places."
"Yes sir," Jackson said as the lawyer sailed out the door.
PDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPD
Paul Drake drummed his fingers somewhat nervously on the steering wheel. He waited outside, parked next to a fireplug, as Perry Mason called his secretary from a pay phone inside. Checking the rearview for the third time in the past minute, he replayed the afternoon's events in his head.
He couldn't help but chuckle.
Perry had been in rare form. When they arrived at the Cooper mansion, Jason Cooper had greeted them with an oily, smarmy good will. That lasted a very few minutes before turning into flustered rage. Mason confronted the financier with the financial dirt Jackson had been able to dig up on the firm. Even the information that Jackson considered to be woefully incomplete was more than enough to get a rise out of Cooper.
"George Simpson found out what you were doing. And this time he wasn't going to let you get away with it," Mason charged. "He didn't want you dragging his daughter into your criminal activities!"
"That's a lie!" Cooper was almost sputtering. "How dare you make such unfounded accusations! You have nothing to back them up!"
"That's where you're wrong, Cooper. What I want to know is whether or not Simpson discovered your wife's fraud or were you trying to stop him before he found out?"
"You're bluffing! You don't know a damn thing and you've got no proof!" The other man was red with rage.
"I have more than enough! And I'm going to drag you into court for Millicent James preliminary hearing and have you testify about this under oath. Then we'll start asking about what you were doing in the office the night Simpson was murdered." Mason's voice dropped a notch. "And you'll by God tell the truth!"
It was then they'd been thrown out.
Now Perry was on the phone with Della, asking her to meet him back at his office for a strategy session. Drake checked the rearview one more time, then the passenger door opened and Perry Mason got back into the vehicle.
"She'll meet us in about an hour," he told the detective. "We'll have time to stop at the diner and grab a quick bite to eat."
Drake nodded and eased his car away from the curve. "What was the idea – you went after Cooper with the big guns. Why not save your ammunition for court?"
Mason grinned. "I'm hoping to scare him into doing something reckless. If he thinks we've got the goods on him, he may get flustered enough to make a mistake."
"That's what I'm afraid of!" Paul exclaimed.
"Simpson found out about the scams. He'd already given up his freedom once for his son-in-law's double dealings. I bet he wasn't going to do it a second time. No doubt he confronted Cooper with exposure and Cooper had to shut him up. Millicent James walked right into the middle of things and Cooper wasn't going to pass up an opportunity to frame her for his crimes."
"And you're going to prove it in court?"
"Damn right I am," Mason answered grimly. "Pull in here," he said, indicating a small drive-in. "I'm starved."
PDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPD
Della Street was removing her coat from the closet when a knock sounded on her door. She frowned slightly; Perry had told her to meet him at the office. Was he stopping by to pick her up in his car?
She tossed the coat on the back of a chair and opened the door.
"Miss Street! I'm so glad you're here." Jason Cooper smiled at her from the threshold.
Della hesitated at the sight of her thoroughly unexpected guest. Cooper sensed her confusion and pushed past her into the apartment.
"Please forgive my impertinence," he said. "But I desperately needed to talk to you."
"Whatever you have to say to me, you can do it at the office. During normal business hours," was Della's terse reply. She stood by the open door, her hand still on the knob.
"Normally, yes, but I needed to talk to you alone – it's about Mr. Mason. Please. It's important." He looked at her imploringly.
"I'm on my way to meet Mr. Mason now. I have neither the time nor the inclination to speak to you, Mr. Cooper." Della glared at him.
Cooper raised his hands in surrender and gave her his most dazzling smile. "Truce, Miss Street? I really want to apologize."
Della crossed the room to retrieve her coat. "Apologize?"
"Yes. I know I've made a mess of things with Mr. Mason." Della raised her eyebrows skeptically. "Ok, I know I've done worse than that. But believe me, things are going to change. And I need your help."
"Why would you assume that I would be willing to help you?" Della asked as she slipped her arms into the sleeves of her coat.
"Because you, like your boss, want to help your client. And I know if I can convince you that I am sincere about this, you can convince Mason." Cooper smiled again.
Della shook her head. "Whatever it is, you can't convince me. Forget it. Come see Mr. Mason tomorrow and you can try to convince him. And now you're leaving, because I've got to leave - I don't have time to waste with you."
PDPDPDPDPDPDPDPD
"That was a complete waste of time," Perry Mason grumbled as he and Paul Drake strode purposefully down the sidewalk towards the Brent Building's lobby doors. "That was probably the worst burger I've ever had. How do you live on those things?"
"Eventually you can't really taste them any more," Paul replied with a grin. "Occupational hazard of the working class." They were half a block from the entrance. "So what are you going to do now?"
"Della is supposed to meet me here," Mason said. "I'm going out to talk to my client again tonight and I want Della with me. She's good with this type of client - sort of a lie detector with legs."
Paul chuckled. "And what a pair of legs they are," he said as he reached out to grasp the door. Just as he pulled it open, he heard a soft *thock* sound. Mason grunted once, as if he'd been punched in the gut and the air forced from his lungs. Paul turned and saw that the lawyer had stopped a few feet behind him, clutching his chest. A second *thock* sounded just as Perry Mason dropped to his knees. Plaster sprayed from the wall of the building next to them.
"Perry!" Paul Drake grabbed hold of his fallen friend and dragged him over behind a cab parked at the curb. Two more shots hit the wall of the building and the sidewalk. Mason's shirt was soaked with blood and he was unconscious. The man at the newsstand saw the lawyer fall and rushed towards them to help. Paul waved him away, shouting "Get back – gun shots! Call an ambulance!"
The man sprinted off in the opposite direction while Drake ripped open Mason's shirt and removed his necktie. The wound was bleeding profusely and Perry Mason had gone deathly pale. His breathing was shallow and becoming labored. Paul worked feverishly to staunch the flow of blood. Finally Perry gave a sort of a cough and lay still. He was not breathing.
Paul couldn't find a pulse. He immediately began CPR. By now a small group of spectators had formed around them and another man took over chest compressions while the detective breathed for his friend. The ambulance siren sounded in the distance.