Meeting again, 2

Octobre 11th, 1990

She carried it with grace, but that was how she always seemed to carry things in life, good or bad. She was raised that way. Only the emotions that were appropriate seeped through apparently, and only for as much and for as long as she wanted. Her attire was black, an elegant small bonnet with voile complemented her short, auburn dyed hair. Two black short gloves held a handkerchief, too big, too white, too unelegant to be her own. Della Street glanced at the item and recognized it.

The owner of the handkerchief was the gentleman who had brought her to her home yesterday evening, after a long day. He had asked nothing about her appointment with the doctor yesterday, but had just wanted to know if she was all right. She was. The tests she hadn't told him about, were taken just for precaution yesterday. He had kissed her sweetly, had looked into her eyes. And then he had kissed her again, almost pushing himself over his carefully maintained boundaries of gentlemanness of the last six weeks. The tempting warmth of his gestures and ways was in sharp contrast with the coolness of the sheets she'd had to warm all by herself later. She had decided to sleep alone again, because temptation was still against doctor's orders now. So the devastating news about the sudden death of Glenn Robertson had come to them seperately, through the early morning papers.

Laura had come to the office immediately after Miss Street had checked her boss' schedule, and had declared he had indeed time to see her. As if he would refuse an appointment with Laura Robertson. But he had thought about it, much longer than she would ever want or care to know.

So here she was. Though she knew the building, she had never been in this office before. The blue and grey shades were combined stylishly, the rooms breathed his scent. Ken Malansky, his protege, had opened the door to her and had offered his condolences politely before letting her in. He was funny in a disarming way, so charmingly clumsy she had given him one of her rare genuine smiles. It was said he was promising, clever, fast and smart, picking up the ways and tricks of his boss easily and quickly. He reminded her of Glenn junior.

" I'm so sorry for you, Laura. " The secretary's voice drew her back to reality and the reason why she was here. " Can I get you anything? "

" No, thank you. " She took of her gloves slowly.

" How are you? "

" I don't know really. " It was the truth. She really didn't know. A lot had changed in the last twenty-four hours, and now that she was here, she wasn't even sure if this was the right thing to do. If this was the right place to be. But she needed help, the kind of help only he could provide her with.

" Laura? " Perry Mason's soft and deep voice reached her, and she instantly turned to him. She let out a very long breath while walking towards the door he had opened for her. As in their younger days, the world around her still disappeared when he appeared. Though the inappropriateness of what she felt now was obvious to her, she allowed herself to enjoy the emotion briefly.

He stepped aside to let the graceful widow of Glenn Robertson enter his office. He didn't watch her taking the seat in front of his desk, but sought the eyes of the lady in front of him. His eyes requested her to come into his office too. She shook her head very shortly, and mouthed 'no'. He blinked at her, then a soundless 'I love you' left his lips. Her equally soundless ' I know' was rewarded with a boyish grin, before he closed the door.

He turned and took in the features of the other lady, in his office. She sat there elegantly, her legs crossed, her gaze directed at her lap, at her folded hands. The make up and the heavy perfume were the same as yesterday. He cursed inwardly for recognizing it.

" I'm so very sorry for you, Laura. " He took her hand and pressed a kiss on the small fingers. Though the ring he had once put there had been returned a long time ago, it seemed as if the imprint was still there. Staring at it, he realised it was the imprint of her wedding ring. She had already taken it off.

" Can I get you anything to drink? "

" No thank you. " She was whiping tears from her eyes with the handkerchief he had given her yesterday.

" What happened? "

" He just died yesterday afternoon. " She sobbed. He patiently let her cry without feeling the urge to do something about it. The only tears that moved him nowadays were those of young children and Della Street.

She swallowed several times. " There seems to be a problem, Perry. I know I have no right to do this, but I just don't know who else to turn to. "

He thought about the last time she had said these exact words to him, and what they had brought on. He pushed the thought away. This seemed to be genuine.

" What is the problem ? "

" The doctors treat his death as suspicious … "

He sat back in his chair. " Why? "

" They think someone … helped him. They think he was killed. The police has already started to investigate what happened. "

" I see. " He sighed deeply. " So, how can I help you? "

" Well … " She played with his handkerchief.

" Well? "

" They think either me or Glenn junior killed him … "

In absence of his secretary, he picked up a pen and started to take notes. " Why would you do that? What would be your motive? "

" They reckon I might have done it because he had filed for divorce. "

" Revenge? " He put on his glasses.

" Something like that, yes. "

" And junior? … "

" Most likely the inheritance. But … "

" But ? "

" Glenn was brain dead, Perry. The chances were small he'd ever wake up again, and then again, if he would, no one knew how he would be. He would certainly not be able to walk again or speak again or … "

" What are you implying ? " he interrupted her.

" Maybe junior did it … " she hesitated " … if he did it, out of some kind of … "

" Mercy ? "

" Maybe. " She sniffed.

Perry nodded. " Did he tell you that? Did he tell anyone else ? "

" No. "

" What about opportunity? "

" Well, I don't know about junior, but I was downstairs, talking to you. "

" Have they already established the exact time of death? " He asked matter of factly.

" No. "

" So they can't rule you out yet. " He mumbled.

The disbelief in her voice was evident. " Perry … ? "

" I'm sorry. What did you say ? " Drawn out of constructing this new timeline, he looked up to her from his notes.

" I didn't do it. "

He had heard that before too, and chose to ignore the remark. She sat back and sniffed. " What I came here for, is to ask you to take my defense if I need it. Or junior's, if he needs it. "

" Yours or junior's? "

" Yes, mine or junior's. He might need it. "

" Does he know you're asking me ? "

" No. "

He raised his brows in surprise.

She answered his unasked question. " I'm not the same person you left, Perry. Some things have changed. " Looking down at her hands again, she continued in a soft voice. " Though he might not know, or might not care to know, I do care about him. "

He sat back and watched her for a long time. This could become an interesting case. It would draw attention, it could become a precedent. And if the boy had done it out of some sense of mercy, he would certainly want to help the youngster. But what if she would be charged? Would he want to defend her ? He definetely needed some time to think about that.

"Well, there is no case yet, but I can make some preparations. " He stood up. " Mind you, there might not even be a case. They haven't finished investigating yet. "

" I know. I just needed to be reassured, I guess. " Her big brown eyes suddenly bored into his. He just stared back.

" I'll phone the police to get the post mortem report here as soon as possible, just in case. I'll ask the lieutenant in charge to keep me posted. If either you, or Glenn junior is arrested, you have to contact me right away. I'll make sure you'll have a solid defense. "

" Will you please consider to do it yourself ? " she asked him softly.

" I will. But I can't promise anything. " He put his hand on her shoulder, and squeezed it lightly. " Good luck for now. I'll get back to you. "

" Thank you. " She sniffed again and turned to him, but the embrace she needed so badly and was hoping for wasn't offered. His mind was already processing.

She left his office without saying goodbye, but took the handkerchief with her.

He opened the door between his office and the clean desk of Della Street. They exchanged looks. The beauty of all of her reminded him of last night, of what he had wanted to do, but hadn't done.

" Do you want me ? " she asked him, grasping a notepad and a pen.

He looked away from her to hide a mischievous smile. " Ehm. Yes? "

She rolled her eyes. " No, I mean, do you need me ? "

He tried to stop himself from laughing, but his shoulders were shaking and betrayed him.

She sighed. " Oh, you. I mean, what can I do for you? "

" Well … " he smirked.

She shook her head and laughed. " Perry, for goodness' sake … Do we have a new case here ? "

" We might. "

" So? "

" Please, step into my office, Miss Street. "

As she walked past him into his office, he stopped her gently. His hand stroked her cheek shortly before he brushed his lips to hers. She put her hand on his chest while he did. Though this was just an innocent brush and an innocent touch of her hand, he moaned and kept her from walking through. He looked down into her eyes.

" Perry, what is wrong with you ? "

" Six weeks without you. That's what's wrong with me. " he pouted playfully.

She laughed her throaty chuckle out loud. " U-uh. So, you're … "

" … itchy … " he completed her sentence. She laughed another chuckle.

" U-uh … itchy … Vulnerable was the word I'd use. "

" Six weeks is ridiculous. " He had trouble keeping his hands to himself.

The utter amusement was evident in her voice. " Shall we go back to work now? "

" Now ? "

" Oh, grow up, Perry Mason. "

" That is exactly the problem. I did. "

She decided to say the two words she thought he needed to be able to behave. " Laura Robertson. " It worked. The name brought him back to his job immediately.

He sighed deeply. " Thank you. That helped. "

It took them the rest of the afternoon to make lists of possible needed information, witnesses and expert witnesses, and a list of questions for both possible clients. They were interrupted by phonecalls from journalists who somehow had already found out about their new clients. And there had been one phonecall from the doctor. She had taken that one at her own desk.

Ken had picked up the post mortem report at the police station, and lay it down on her desk, a little too hard. His agitation about this possible new case had obviousy build up. He was about to explode, and he looked at her frantically, pacing back and forth in front of her desk. " It's in the newspapers already. I still can't believe he's doing this. You can't really feel okay about this. "

" About what, Ken? "

" Do you approve of this? Do you approve of him taking this on? "

" It's not up to me to decide what cases he takes. And this might not even be a case. " She tried to state it matter of factly, but obviously not very convincing. Ken made a dismissive gesture, and started pacing again.

" You know, Ken .. " He turned to her, her voice held an edge of emotion he wasn't familiair with. She stood next to her desk, tapping at it with her index finger, then drawing circles on it. " … he leads, I follow. It's what I do. "

" Ah, yeah. Steadfast and loyal, right ? " He remembered the quote from earlier conversations about the Robertson case. His comment came out more icy than he had intended, and he tried a boyish smile.

She rolled her eyes at him and shrugged. " I work for him and with him, Ken, and I love him. And this shouldn't be happening to her. Nobody deserves to be treated that way. It's tragical. "

" Yeah, well, if you love him so much, Della, you better tell him to watch his back. I wouldn't trust her for a milion bucks. "

" He doesn't trust her, Ken. Have you seen the list of questions we've made for her? "

" No. "

" Over there. " She pointed with her chin at the papers that were next to him on the table.

He picked up the neatly typed list of questions, and whistled. Five pages, a hundred and fifty questions. " 'When did you take off your wedding ring?' " He queried Della Street's face for clues. " How is that of use for the case? Or, is it just something he wants to know for himself ? "

" Every detail can be important for the case. But, yes, maybe he wants to know about it himself. You know about her, and their uhm… history. " She smiled at the young man's cleverness, and patted his shoulder. " It's good to know you're picking up his ways so quickly. "

" Yeah, but … "

" Ask him, if you really want to know. " But she knew he wouldn't.

She left Ken Malansky reading through the list of questions, to enter Perry's office. He stood at his desk, and looked up when she came in.

" Here is the post mortem report on Glenn Robertson. "

" Thank you. " He grabbed the hand that had handed him the report and pulled her to him. The phone rang at the exact moment he was planting a light kiss on her temple.

He worked his arm across her back, his hand faster than hers to pick up the phone. She watched him with her arms crossed in front of her.

" Mason. " He stroked her upper arm, while returning her stare.

" Picking up the phone yourself, Mr. Mason? What happened to your secretary ? Has she already been replaced by the late Mr. Robertson's wife? "

His jaws tightened. " Who is this? "

The name of the journalist made him slam the receiver back in its cradle.

" What was that all about? "

" Nothing important. " He continued to stroke her arm. " Are you coming home with me ? "

" No. You have a very nice dinner appointment, remember? "

He smiled. " Ah yes. The City Hall's Charity Ball. It's been what, twenty years since we last attended that one ? "

" No, the charity ball is in two days. This is an evening you have been looking forward to ever since you opened the initial invitation, remember, the Associates Annual Dinner, you know, dinner with the Governor of Colorado? "

" Oh no … " he rubbed his face and growled, " … is that tonight? "

" A-ha. Yes. Let me quote to you why you really want to go there tonight. ' The Association values the contribution of your office to the high standards of law practises in the state of Colorado, and highly appreciates your opinion as an influencing lawyer. It is therefore that you're invited to share your experience and business sense with the Governor at the Annual Dinner.' "

" So, that is what I gained from life. The governor wants to talk to me. " He groaned. " Are you coming with me ? " Her company would surely help him to get through the drag of the evening.

" No. I wasn't invited. "

He groaned again.

" You are going to talk politics, dear. And I'm not. "

" Where are you going? "

" Wellll … "

" Well? "

" Swimming. With Janet. I have to stay in shape. "

" Do you? " His hands sought the smooth curves of her waist.

She leaned towards him. " Yes, I do. " The opening of the door to his office interrupted something that was about to turn into a promising lingering kiss.

Though Ken knew he had disturbed them in a private moment, he found the haughty snort of his boss way too effusive. " Something wrong? "

She shook her head, and pursed her lips. " No. Perry just remembered he has a very nice dinner appointment tonight, and he doesn't really feel like it … "

" That is quite an understatement, Miss. " Perry was really annoyed.

" You're not having dinner with uhm … her, right? "

" Her, Ken ? "

" Yeah. Mrs. Robertson. "

Della chuckled. " No, he was invited to the annual banquet with the governor, so he'll be talking politics all night. Such a splendid way to spend an evening. "

" Well, there is something else than politics you can talk about tonight, Perry. I'm sure a lot of the guests and maybe even the governor will find this very interesting. "

" What's that? " Perry grunted. Ken handed a folded news paper to the open hand of his boss and pointed at an article, with a big picture printed next to it.

Perry snorted again and frowned his brows. " Rats … " The picture on the frontpage showed Perry Mason's back, and the big drowsy eyes of Laura Robertson while she showed him a handkerchief, with one hand on his chest. Even in black and white it was a sour sight to look at.

Della glanced at the picture, and tilted her head. It humoured her obviously. " Well, this looks good. It certainly will give them something to talk about. Better than politics anyway. "

" If anyone asks tonight, I'll sue him. Or her. "

His remark caused her surprise. " You were never bothered by suggestion. "

" Well, I am now. Aren't you? " he turned to face her. The look in his eyes was cold.

" No. " she said truthfully.

" It's nothing, Della. You were there. You saw it. It was nothing. " The tone of his voice was close to accusing. Ken Malansky turned, and left the room silently.

" Don't take this out on me, Perry. " Her voice was solid. Her earlier softness and amusement had gone completely. " The picture doesn't lie. The text they printed underneath does maybe, but the picture very clearly shows."

" Shows what? "

" Oh, stop it, Perry. Please, let's not go there again. "

" I can't believe it's happening again. " he whispered.

" Excuse me ? "

" Nothing. It's not important. " He grunted.

The firm set of his jaws irritated her. " It's just how it works. You know how it works. People look for sensation, and interpret things in the way they want to see it. It's just gossip. And it is not the first time this is happening, Perry. What's bothering you ? " His silence irritated her even more. " Talk to me. "

" Hell if I know … " He threw the paper at the couch he was about to set himself onto. " It just annoys me. "

" I polished your shoes for tonight, and your tux is in the closet here. I picked it up from the drycleaners' this morning. " She had changed her tone of voice into business like.

" What ? " He snapped.

He sighed.

He'd snapped.

At Della.

He shook his head and closed his eyes, turned towards her, but she couldn't see it. Or ignored it. Firmly.

She repeated her earlier words, without facing him. " Your tux is here, and your shoes are polished. You have to be there at seven thirty tonight. "

" Lord … " He sighed with his head in his hands. " I hate this job sometimes. "

" Well, you have all the time in the world to think about it tonight. Maybe you can ask some other guests how they've managed this far. Maybe they were more succesful ignoring usual gossip. Maybe they can tell you how to do it, without blaming others. " Her words sunk in slowly. He registered them, but didn't take in the full notion, let alone the connotation of her words.

He'd had absolutely no right to snap at her, not for something as small as just this picture that meant nothing, in a newspaper that meant nothing at all. He stared at it. The dramatic and helpless look on the beautiful face of the beautiful Laura Robertson suggested so much that wasn't there. And, of course, his own face wasn't visible to kill the suggestion. It was presented as if the picture was taken after Glenn's tragical and sudden death. But it had been taken before. He knew that. She knew that. The whole world should know that.

Doubt and hesitation filled his mind again. The post mortem report stated that Glenn had died between 12:30 and 13.30 p.m. He had left the hospital at 13.00 p.m. with Ken and Della, he remembered that clearly, because he had checked his watch at the moment she had put her hand in the crook of his arm. So as much as Laura stated that she had been with him in the hospital hall at the time of death, that was not entirely true. Technically, her alibi wasn't airtight, so she could have killed him. He glanced at the picture of them on the frontpage again. Was she wearing her wedding ring ? He narrowed his eyes to have a better look. It appeared that she wasn't wearing it, so she must have taken it off before. Now, what did that mean? And why was that so damn important?

He threw the paper through the office, and sat back.

What was it? Why was he so cautious, so careful, so suspicious about anything involving Laura? Why was it that the atmosphere in the office had changed? Ken Malansky was against them handling this case, which usually didn't cloud his own opinion, but irritated him now to an unknown extend. And just now, a picture in the newspaper had made him explode with frustration. Even if she hadn't done it, even if she was perfectly innocent this time, her presence was interfering on all kinds of levels in his life on which he didn't accept interference.

And he'd snapped at Della.

At Della. While every fibre of him ached for her.

" Bloody fool. " Sighing again he comtemplated how being around Laura Robertson always made things more complicated on a very uncontrollable basis. It was as if his own reality slipped through his fingers like dry sand, and was replaced by one of her castles in the air.

He would cancel the banquet with the governor and tell Della to cancel her plans for tonight. Her shape was perfect as it was, as was the rest of her, and he was going to tell her that right now. And spend the entire night investigating the issue of her being in shape thoroughly.

" Della ? " His loud voice rumbled through the office. But there was no answer, she had already left. Even Ken Malansky had left without saying a word. Or without him noticing it.

" Damn it! "

He would attend the dinner, and leave as early as could be explained. Which would be very early.

And so, he indeed came home just before eleven. Getting dressed into a tuxedo was as nerve-racking as taking the damn thing off. He decided that again while swearing extensively at his inability to take the bow tie off. Utterly annoyed by the unsuccesful fumbling of his thick fingers, he took a pair of scissors and cut the damn thing off his neck.

He sat down next to the phone, and told himself to wait for fifteen minutes. If she didn't phone within the next fifteen minutes, he'd take a taxi to her house. He needed to see her. Because they had parted angry and without saying goodbye today. And they both knew they would both not be sleeping until they'd talked about it.

He picked up the phone after the first ring.

" Della. "

" I want to see you. "

" C'me here. Use your own key to get in. "

" I'm on my way now. "

" Just get here. " He said it to the busy tone.

She found him at his couch, a bottle of whiskey and a tumbler accompanying him. The scissors next to the bow tie on his coffee table made her chuckle. If he'd just waited, she could have helped him with it. That was what she was here for anyway, wasn't it? To talk, to get him out of the tuxedo, and whatever more would be appropriate.

" Hi. " His voice was low.

" Hi. " She lay her bag and purse on one of his chairs. " No intruders ? Ken? Journalists? "

" No. Not even doctors or photographers … or governors. "

She laughed at him.

The next silence was very comfortable, balancing their hectic day and evening peacefully. They just stared at eachother. He focussed on the twinkle in her eyes, breathing in her expression and her soothing features. Her lashes fluttered, her almond shaped brown eyes were glittering in the dim light. Small earclips. A hint of make up. Her full lips painted a soft shade of pinkish, an inviting smile on them. The curls a bit unruly, still a little wet from swimming. They'd feel soft and damp to his skin, he anticipated.

He was litterally drawn to her by the strength of the attraction. He could watch her for days. Fascinated by her, not just at special occassions when she was extravagantly dressed, emphasizing all the right curves in all the right ways, but right at the chores of daily life. Her humour and stamina were never matched by anyone elses, except maybe his. But sometimes.

" I'm sorry. "

" Me too. "

He stood up and held out his left hand. His ring clung to hers softly when she took his fingers in her own. Very slowly decreasing the distance between them, she tilted her head. She caught his other hand and brought both her hands to her waist, allowing his hands to rest there, bringing her own up along his ams, over his shoulders to let them stop to play with his collar. He watched her with squinted eyes, stroked her waist, then used his fingers on the small of her back to bring her to him. They both closed their eyes as she brushed her forehead back and forth to his beard for lingering moments, before his lips planted a careful kiss.

Two of her slender fingers slipped in between two buttons of his shirt, the others rest on his chest. She inhaled, then whispered. " I miss you so much, Perry. "

" I'm right here, baby. "

" You know what I mean. I miss you. I'd never thought it would be this bad. " She shook her head against his chest, her soft chuckle muffled in the fabric of his shirt.

" Believe me. I know. " He kissed her hair. Soft and damp indeed.

" I'd never thought I could still want you so bad. " She pulled back to look into his eyes. Hers held this lustful promise, that made his voice impossibly low.

" I know. "

He inhaled deeply, bringing his hands from her waist up over her blouse, to just below the curves of her breasts. She closed her eyes and parted her lips. Her soft sighing moan steered his fingers as he provokingly slowly worked them upwards over her breasts to her shoulders, the result of this touch immediately visible to his hungry eyes.

The way she turned her face to the side, gave him an answer he was not waiting for.

" How long ? " His fingers lightly touched her cheek. His eyes were drawn to her full lips.

" Another couple of days. To be safe. But the testresults might be there tomorrow. " She sighed, using her index finger to draw circles on his chest. Even through the fabric of his shirt, she felt the tremor it caused. His breathing heavied.

" Another couple of days … " A smile played across his pursed lips. " What if we go against doctor's orders? "

" I don't know. " Her low voice was as soft as the skin he was about to caress.

He took off one of her earclips, slid it into his pocket, then brought his lips to just behind her ear at the line where her curls took over the creamy sweet smelling skin. He was taking his time. No need to hurry. What if he would do just this for the next couple of days?

" Perry … " she moaned, pulled back, yet not enough.

The kiss that followed was inevitable. Caused by the thoughts of her in his arms, and what could be instigated, now and here. While they shouldn't. But she was here. Both his hands moved on her back in seizing but slow grasps. Her hands crawled around his neck and pulled him to her. He obeyed the urge to tease her lips apart with his tongue, sucking hers into his mouth gently, sultry. It made her as much as fall against him, while being caught by strong, capturing arms. Lingering moments passed before sense tried to take over again, and she spoke the words that were deliriously and confusingly contrasting with the movements of her body against his.

" … we can't… we shouldn't … "

He grinned against her cheek. " Ah. we can't we shouldn't … That's a long time ago … "

" I should go home. " That was a familiair whisper.

" Stay. " More familiairity.

Now she grinned. " I really should go. "

" Please stay. " He stroked her cheek. She melted.

" Perry ... " So very close to surrendering.

" Please. "