A/N: A thousand apologies for my delay in posting today. I had to be at work earlier than usual and totally forgot that I had responsibilities of vital importance elsewhere.
Chapter 6
Murphy and Young was an old, established firm. So old and established that it was on its third Murphy and second Young. Their pictures graced one wall of the largest conference room.
The names and photographs of the senior partners who weren't Murphys or Youngs lined the walls of the reception area. Martin Hays was one of these.
His reputation outside the firm was such that he could pick and choose the clients he handled. Junior associates did the bulk of the work for the smaller estates. He focused on the big money and the high profile prestige. His reputation inside the firm was such that the girls were quick to find reasons to be seated at their desks whenever he came near the secretarial pool.
In his early fifties, he had a certain dashing air with the arrogance of wealth and the morals of a con man; he over billed clients when he could get away with it and groped female employees because he could get away with it. He had tried it with Della on her second day with him only to be 'accidentally' stabbed in the leg with the pencil she was carrying. It didn't earn her his respect, but he kept his distance... which, she had decided, was more important.
~P&D~
Della looked at her watch. 3:10. If things went the way she hoped, she would be back in plenty of time to greet Mr. Hays' four o'clock appointment.
She carefully maneuvered a file - one that most likely fell within Dr. Milburn's definition of heavy lifting - into the crook of her left arm. On top of that she laid the single page she had typed upon returning to the office.
Her light tap on the door was a mere courtesy as she entered the office.
"I can't talk now," Hays snapped before slamming down the telephone.
Della kept her expression impassive, acknowledging neither his words nor his actions. She suspected the girlfriend whose call she had put through just a couple of minutes before wouldn't be a girlfriend much longer.
"Here's the McGarry file. You wanted to go over it before their appointment at four."
He caught the barest flicker of a wince as she set the bulky accordion file on his desk. Her story of how she had injured her wrist had been plausible enough, but he had his doubts as to its veracity. It was the first time he ever felt she had been less than truthful with him. Hell, the girl wouldn't even lie for him. Still, he grudgingly had to admire the way she could politely deflect unwanted callers until they no longer called.
"Did you have those papers delivered to the Blakes?" he barked, annoyed with himself for getting distracted.
"Yes, sir, the messenger picked them up at eleven, and I took the Spencer documents to the Probate Clerk myself."
"Humpf," Hays grunted. Sometimes the capable Miss Street was too efficient for her own good, even if it did reflect well on him. He preferred basking in reflection based on his instructions not her initiative. "Was there something else?" he asked, seeing the paper in her hand.
Taking a deep breath that only served to agitate the butterflies in her stomach, Della placed the sheet in front of him. "Yes, sir; this is my two weeks' notice. Would you like Personnel to give you a list of candidates for my replacement or let them choose someone?"
"What?"
She continued as though he hadn't spoken. "Either way they should be able to find a replacement no later than Monday so I can begin training her."
"Where do you think you're going?" Martin Hays didn't like surprises that he didn't orchestrate.
Della found herself relaxing as he grew more irate. "I've taken a job at another firm."
"Which one? Nobody's called me for a reference."
"Apparently, Murphy and Young's reputation is reference enough with regards to the caliber of people they employ."
"That's not an answer. Where are you going?" he bellowed.
Della felt her resolve stiffen much as she had in the face of Stephen's ire as she replied calmly, "Mr. Hays, I won't be discussing this firm when I leave, therefore, I feel I owe the same courtesy to my new employer."
"Don't give me that." Hays pounded his fist on the desk. "I won't have you stealing my clients!"
'Unless one of your clients is accused of killing another beneficiary and needs a lawyer,' Della thought wryly, 'I doubt there's much chance of that.' "There's not a single reason why any of your clients would want to leave, Mr. Hays, and certainly not to follow me. Even if I could muster the audacity to contact any of them, I have no doubt they would, quite rightly, react just as you did." She meant it, too. Despite his numerous character flaws, the man was the best in his field.
Hays didn't have a response for that. "I don't care who they send, just get somebody in here."
"I'll go to Personnel right now, sir." She turned and walked out the door, feeling his eyes on her all the way.
~P&D~
Burton Jefferies knew what was about to happen when his secretary told him Della Street wanted to see him. It was the same thing that happened every time Martin Hays' secretary came to Personnel because they only came for one reason.
Della had been assigned to Hays five months ago, and the man had been through two secretaries in the year and a half prior to that. It was becoming difficult for Personnel to find any secretary within the firm willing to work for him, even at the risk of never being given any permanent placement in the future. Burton didn't like the way some of the lawyers treated the secretaries but there wasn't much he could do about it except try to change things a little at a time.
He offered her a chair as he asked, "What can I do for you, Miss Street?"
"I gave Mr. Hays my notice, and he's decided to let you chose my replacement."
It wasn't a verbatim recitation of what he had heard five months ago although it came very close. "The firm hates to lose secretaries with your skills and dedication, Miss Street. Is there anything we can do you keep you with us?"
Della understood the position she was putting him in and that part of it she regretted. "Thank you, but no. I've been offered an opportunity I can't afford to pass up."
It was the answer he had expected. There really wasn't anything he could offer to persuade a secretary to stay with Martin Hays. "Well, you know all the unassigned secretaries. Who would be a good choice to replace you?"
She never really believed she would be asked for her opinion, but it hadn't kept her from thinking about it... and having an answer.
"Claudia Allison."
The quick response surprised him. "Why?"
"She's pretty enough for Mr. Hays and..." Della hesitated for a brief second. She was taking a chance being so blunt, but she had already quit and had a job she could step into tomorrow so if they let her go this minute it wouldn't be a hardship. "And she has the nerve to defend herself."
"That's just about what Charlotte Michaels said when she selected you. What else qualifies Miss Allison for the job?"
"I know she doesn't have as much seniority as one or two of the other girls, but she's helped me on a number of occasions, and it's clear that she enjoys the kind of work Mr. Hays does."
That statement puzzled Burton. "Why is that important?"
It wasn't a revelation to Della that he had never considered the situation from the other side. "Lawyers practice the type of law they prefer, why shouldn't secretaries do the same? I don't like estate planning, and I knew I would get bored sooner rather than later. That's why I interviewed with a firm that practices the kind of law that interests me."
"What kind of law is that?"
Della smiled serenely. "About as far from estate planning as you can get."
Burton was beginning to wish he had moved her into Personnel. "Let's get Miss Allison in here and talk to her."
~P&D~
That night, the doorbell rang promptly at 6:30.
After a quick hug, Della relieved her friend of the small cake box allowing Elaine to set down her purse and remove her gloves.
"Hi, kid." The scent of spaghetti and garlic bread caught her attention. She took a deep breath and let it go with a sigh. "Mmm, only you can make leftovers smell that good. So what's the big mystery - Della! What did you do to your hand?" Grown up and on their own, she was still the 'older sister' and would always react accordingly. She took Della's injured hand in hers, turning it gently as she examined the bandage.
"That's part of the story," Della said, extricating herself, "but let's get dinner ready before I tell it." She led the way into the kitchen certain she would be followed.
Elaine trailed along behind with no argument. She had learned long ago that there was no way to make Della talk about anything before she was ready.
They worked with the practiced ease of best friends and former roommates. Della kept an eye on the simmering spaghetti as she set the table while Elaine put together the salad.
~P&D~
The girls were half way through the meal when Elaine couldn't bear waiting anymore.
"Okay, I've been patient long enough," she chided playfully, "now tell me how you hurt your hand."
"Well, I told everyone at work that I tripped on the steps in front of my building and sprained my wrist when I caught myself." Della didn't like lying but the truth would serve no purpose.
Elaine nodded her understanding. She needed to know the cover story because she still saw people from the firm. "Now you're going to tell me what really happened, right?"
"I used it to break Stephen Raines' nose." A small shiver ran down Della's spine. It felt odd, saying the words out loud, making the surreal more real.
"What! Why?" Beyond the bizarre concept of Della hitting anyone, Elaine was struggling with the fact that it had been Stephen in particular. He wasn't one of her favorite people, but she couldn't imagine him doing anything that deserved physical retaliation.
"He called yesterday and said he had something he wanted to talk about. I didn't want to go, but I couldn't argue about it over the phone. He made dinner at his apartment," she paused until Elaine set down her water glass, "and afterwards he told me he's marrying Alicia Mead but wants to keep seeing me on the side."
"He wants to what?" Elaine exclaimed.
"I declined his 'offer'," Della continued without acknowledging the outburst. "He got mad and grabbed my arm. When he wouldn't let go, I let go and hit him."
Elaine heard the words, but she was having trouble getting them to make sense. "You hit him," she repeated, "hit him so hard that you broke... that's what you did to your hand?"
"Yes. Oh, when you write to Curtis, tell him the right hook he taught us really works... and you should know it really hurts. Anyway, that's the first part of it."
"The first part? Why do I get the feeling this story isn't going to get better?"
Della pushed her plate away and sat back, her appetite gone. "After I put ice on Stephen's nose, I accepted his offer of a ride home."
"Why?" Elaine didn't even try to keep the censure out of her voice.
"Mostly because I didn't think I should have to pay for my own cab." Elaine rolled her eyes, and Della acknowledged the silent admonishment. "Yes, I know it's a bad reason for a bad decision... I just never imagined that Stephen would make an even worse decision during the drive."
Elaine rubbed her forehead dreading the answer she was going to get to the question she had to ask. "What's worse than you deciding to get in a car with him?"
"Well, we didn't discuss it, of course, but I believe Stephen decided the story he would tell Alicia to account for his broken nose involved an accident where he hit a telephone pole and that he thought at least that part of his story should be true."
"He hit a telephone pole... on purpose... with you in the car?" The color drained from Elaine's face, her imagination quickly creating an array of horrific possible outcomes.
"I think he went from idea to implementation without much intermediate thought."
"Make that no thought whatsoever!" Elaine cried as she latched onto the worst case scenario. "Della, he could have killed you!"
"Well, I know he never intended that. Maybe he did it as soon as he had the idea so he wouldn't have time to think about it."
"You're defending that... that... weasel?"
"Not defending, explaining. Anyway, his bad luck wasn't over for the evening. A prowl car showed up immediately after the accident and the officer didn't believe Stephen's story of a dog in the road. He took us to the hospital -"
"For your hand? Did you tell him it happened before accident?"
"I hurt it again in the accident, but we really went to the hospital because I hit my head and I was bleeding." She lifted her hair to reveal the small bandage. "Three stitches."
Elaine's simmering anger boiled over. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to find Stephen and see if I learned that right hook as well as you did."
Della, taken aback by the intensity of her friend's reaction, interjected quickly to calm her down. "You're wonderful for wanting to avenge me, but I'm fine. Half the people at the office didn't even notice my hand and only you know about the stitches. Stephen is the one walking around with two black eyes and a broken nose he can't hide. I doubt he was any more convincing today than he was last night."
Elaine volunteered to clear the table, leaving the coffee making to Della. They worked quietly and efficiently for a few minutes.
Snapping the lid on the coffee pot, Della stilled, her gaze locked on the counter. "Elaine, why do you think Stephen suggested that sort of arrangement?"
"Because he sees other men getting away with it," Elaine replied disgustedly as she stacked the plates and silverware next to the sink. The washing up would come after dessert.
"But why me?" Della whirled around, unexpected tears filling her eyes as anger, hurt and fear warred within her. Last night had been an unnerving experience; one she hadn't let herself think about much less analyze until now. "What did I do to make him believe I would agree to be treated that way?"
"You didn't do anything, kid. It was all Stephen."
"I must have said or implied something for him to decide 'Della will settle for a back alley affair. Della won't ever expect more and she doesn't deserve more'." Tears came hard and fast now, choking off her words.
Elaine hugged her tightly, thankful to have been here when the emotional dam broke. Della was one of the strongest people she knew, but a lot had happened in the last twenty-four hours. Still, there wasn't much she more could do until the flood of tears had run their course.
Eventually, the sobs dwindled to sniffles.
Elaine held her at arms' length to see Della's face. "Okay now?"
"My head hurts," Della murmured, pressing the heel of her good hand to her temple in an unsuccessful attempt to relieve some of the pain.
"Where you hit it or just a general headache?" Elaine asked, choking back fresh concern.
"Old fashioned crying headache."
"Did the doctor give you something?"
"He did for last night. He said aspirin would be enough for today and it has."
"I'll be right back." Fetching the aspirin bottle from the bathroom, Elaine returned to the living room where Della had settled into the corner of the sofa. She sat down beside her and handed Della two pills along with a glass of water.
Della swallowed the medication and drained the water in a few long gulps then set the empty glass on the table.
"Better?" Elaine asked. When she got a confirming nod, she rubbed Della's shoulder reassuringly. "Listen to me - you deserve so much better than a louse like Stephen Raines."
The water had soothed her scratchy throat, but Della's voice was a bit rough as she replied, "He didn't think so."
"You're really worried about his opinion? The man who is planning to cheat on his wife before marries her? The man who thought slamming his car into a telephone pole was a good idea?"
"Stephen's a jerk," Della conceded with a sniff, "but that doesn't mean he's the only one who sees me that way. What if other men do, too?"
It broke Elaine's heart to see Della doubting herself this way. "They don't. Just forget about Stephen."
"How can I? I've got three stitches in my head, a sprain in one wrist and bruises on the other to remember him by." Tears welled again, but she blinked them away.
"Bruises? What bruises?"
Della pushed up her sleeve to reveal the finger shaped marks.
"Stephen did that?"
"I told you he grabbed me. He was trying to make me listen to him."
"Did he try anything else?"
"He didn't get the chance." The assurance came with a weak grin as Della raised her bandaged hand. "Right hook, remember?"
"You're not sorry he's out of your life, are you?"
"My heart's not broken if that's what you're asking. Stephen was fun to be with but I'm not in love with him. I just wish it had ended some other way. At least he was smart enough to become a lawyer instead of a criminal." Her own use of the word 'criminal' reminded her of the other important thing she wanted to tell her best friend. "Oh, by the way, I got the job with Perry Mason."
The casual, almost cavalier revelation stunned Elaine. "Good heavens! You started telling me about Stephen, and I completely forgot your interview was today. How did it go? Well, that's a silly question since you said you got the job."
"We got off to an interesting start. His receptionist was still at lunch, and he came out to greet me. I told him my name and that I had an appointment. He said there had been a mistake; he didn't handle personal injury cases."
"Personal injury?"
"He was looking at my hand. He thought the receptionist had double booked, but all she had done was write my name down wrong. She had it as Delia Strait."
Elaine grinned. "That's not bad if you ever need an alias... which is entirely possible, working for Mr. Mason. When did he offer you the job?"
"Did it right there in the office, during the interview. Once I realized he was serious, I accepted immediately... and the first thing I did was to hire him a new receptionist."
"What about the other one?"
"She never came back from lunch. He said he was going to have to hire a new one so I picked up the phone and called Adele Cooper. I thought it was just going to be a temp job until he could find a permanent one, but when I asked for Gertie Lade, Adele said she was available and looking for something permanent. Problem solved."
Elaine's mouth dropped open. "You snapped up Gertie Lade? You're incredible!"
"I was lucky," Della demurred, shrugging off the undue praise. "I was just the first one to ask. Adele probably wouldn't have done it solely on my request, but she knows Mr. Mason by reputation, too, so she was willing to offer it to Gertie. We'll both be new, but already knowing each other will make it a little easier." She sat back with a soft sigh. "I know Carol Fremont wants to marry a lawyer, but she has absolutely no idea how appealing having a disinterested boss can be."
Elaine had seen Mason's picture in the gossip columns, rarely with the same woman more than twice yet always with the same type: beautiful, petite, dark hair; the complete opposite of the statuesque, blonde - though beautiful - Carol.
But very much like Della.
'It's isn't matchmaking, not really,' Elaine thought to herself. 'If Perry Mason doesn't date his secretaries, Della will have an excellent job with a boss who won't be chasing her around the desk. But if he has a type and has been waiting for the right one, then Della could definitely be it.'
"When do you start?"
"Two weeks from Monday, but Mr. Hays was not pleased that I got another job without a reference from him. If he can find a way to get me out sooner, he will. Luckily, Mr. Mason said I can start any time."
"Mr. Mason really didn't call Mr. Hays for a reference?"
Della shook her head, half in response and half in continuing disbelief. "Mr. Mason didn't call anybody. He said he prefers his own opinions."
"Well, you certainly made a good impression," Elaine said. One thing still bothered her though. "He didn't question you too hard about your hand?" Newspaper stories about his cases were always filled with the clever ways he tripped people up on the witness stand.
"I'm sure he believed my story, but I'm equally sure he knows there's more to it. I can only imagine his cross-examination if he had seen the bruises. The rest of his questions were tough enough. He -"
Elaine raised both hands, cutting off whatever else her friend might have been about to say. "Wait a minute. Don't move."
Leaving a bewildered Della sitting on the couch, she hurried into the kitchen. The refrigerator opened and closed, dishes rattled and silverware clattered then she returned with a tray bearing dessert and coffee. She served Della before picking up her own plate.
Digging into her cake, Elaine grinned and said, "Start from the beginning and tell me everything."
"This is why you always get to eat dessert while my coffee gets cold," Della chided.
"It's also why you're two sizes smaller than me and sleep better at night. Now spill!"
Between bites, Della recounted the interview in detail.
~P&D~
Seeing Elaine to the door, Della gave her a hug. "Thanks for listening and letting me cry on your shoulder - literally."
"Get a good night's sleep, kid," Elaine advised. "Oh, exactly how polite do you expect me to be to Stephen in case I ever run into him?" It was a rare occurrence but it had happened before and she wanted to be prepared.
"Be the lady your mother raised you to be; he's not worth either of us getting upset anymore." After a good cry, Della was finding easier to be pragmatic about the whole event.
Puzzlement clouded Elaine's face at a very different thought. "Speaking of mothers, are you planning to tell your mother about all this?"
"Of course not," Della replied with an exaggerated shudder. "Like I told Mr. Mason, I was foolish but not stupid."
"Then exactly how am I supposed to write to Curtis that the right hook works without telling him how I know?"
Della stared at her for a long moment then the two of them burst into laughter.
TBC