Chapter 5

" I need you to come to the station with me, Mason. We found a body that could be your Miss Street. " The sentence echoed in his ears. Sudden fear and panic rose from his feet up to just beneath his heart.

No. I only deal with facts.

The abrupt silence in the hall was deafening. The steel gaze that came over Perry Mason's face made Paul Drake worry instantly. He knew that once this steeling began, there was no way to get through to him, there was no way to get him reasonable. His heaving chest, his two large hands squeezed into fists, his eyes darkened and cold, his jaws tightened. Della used to call this look the 'reinforced concrete look'. Even she stayed away from him when he had this look on his face.

" Get me there. " Perry grunted.

" You want us to come? " Ken asked.

" No. " His voice was loud, and he looked at Ken's and Paul's face with darkened, cold eyes. Then he gazed down. " Yes. " He sighed softly, and squeezed his cane.

The drive to the policestation took place in absolute silence, until Paul asked a question that had been in his mind from the moment Brock had asked them if Perry could identify a body that was found.

" I still don't know why this is necessary, Brock. Della Street is quite well known, she has a familiair face. Is there noone that could have recognized her already? You, for instance? That is, if it's her? "

" No. " Brock answered reluctantly.

" No? "

" Nobody could recognize her. " He added softly " Because of the state the body is in. "

" That mutilated, right? " Ken scratched his arm nervously, and glanced at Perry who sat next to him in the back of the car.

" Yes. As in decapitated. "

" Jeeezzzz. Thanks for telling us, lieutenant. " Paul Drake checked Perry's face in the rearview mirror of the police car. The only proof that Mason had actually heard this conversation, was his hard swallowing and the further tightening of his jaws. The big attorney rest his head on his fist while looking out of the window. He blocked the information that was coming to his ears. He didn't want to deal with suggestion, he only wanted to deal with facts. He chose to think sound was made out of soundwaves, just forming into words if the recipient wished to hear so. And he didn't wish to hear the soundwaves becoming words. Not these ones.

The sickening strong smell of the formaldehyde in the morgue made Ken Malansky turn around and run to the bathrooms to throw up.

Drake handed him a paper napkin when he came back, and looked around nervously. He didn't want to watch the form underneath the blanket in front of them.

" Ready when you are, Mason. " Brock spoke softly.

" Do it. " The steel stare didn't come off his face as Brock pulled up the blanket, there was just a slight change of breathing. The body on the table was badly battered, it seemed as if it was ran over by a car. The tracks of tires were visible on arms, legs and stomach. There were bad bruises on the ankles and wrists. Brock had pulled up the blanket just up to the top of the neck. The suggestion of the flatness of the blanket above it, was as sickening as the image would have been if the blanket hadn't been there to hide the decapitation.

Ken swallowed hard. The female slender figure could very well be Della's.

" Lord…." Suddenly Perry turned around with closed eyes, and brought up his hands to grab something for support, while he stumbled forwards.

" Get him a chair. "

Brock took a chair and pulled Perry's arm to motion him to sit down. Perry sank down on the chair, holding his face in his hands. He sighed deeply.

" Perry? " Paul walked towards him with shaking hands. " Talk to us. "

Ed Brock squatted next to Mason. " I just need a 'yes' or a 'no', couns'lor. "

Perry mumbled something.

" What did you say, couns'lor? "

" It's. Not. Her. " The slow steadying of Mason's voice struck Drake. He recognized a sob in the big man's voice, and briskly turned around to hide his own.

" It's not her, Brock. " Perry's voice had its usual tone and strength again.

" Are you sure, couns'lor? "

" I know every single inch of Della Street's body, Ed. I'm telling you, it's not her. "

" Oh, thank God. " Even at the low temperature in the morgue, sweat came down from Brock's face in drops. He whiped them away with his handkerchief.

Perry grunted to him. " Well, she is someone's wife or mother or daughter, so don't you thank God, Ed. Some idiot killed her, abused her, decapitated her, and left her as a piece of garbage. "

" Yeah, you're right. But at the moment I'm just glad it's not your Miss Street, Mason. " Because if it was, you'd probably end up being the next body on the table here, Brock added in his mind, but he didn't say that oud loud.

Perry looked up to him, and sighed wearily. " I thank you for your concern. Now can we get back to find my Miss Street, Brock? "

" First, I'm going to grab a good cup of coffee, Mason. Do you want some? "

" No. I need something stronger. I want to go home now. "

####

" Did you eat anything in the last 24 hours? Did you have breakfast by any chance? " Paul asked Perry, when they finally sat at his kitchentable.

" No. "

" Your pills…" Paul Drake took two pills from the bottle and gave them to Perry, who was staring at the kitchen clock. 2 p.m. He didn't want to sleep, he knew he actually couldn't, but his eyelids were heavy. The whiskey he had taken to ease his mind with, didn't quite help in that respect.

" What? "

" Your painpills…you know, doctors' orders..." Ken interfered.

" Oh, yeah, thanks…" Perry took them from Paul, and waited with them in his hand.

" You do not seriously want me to get you a glass of water as well, do you? "

" Glad you noticed. "

" ' Bet Della does that."

" As a matter of fact she does, Paul... "

" Yeah, well, she loves you. "

" Yeah, well, and you don't..."

Paul put his two hands on the table in front of the big lawyer, and blew out a big breath of air. " As a matter of fact I do, you stubborn old pile of bricks. And now, you take bloody care of yourself. Take your medicine and take something to eat. You can simply refuse to realise this, but you are god damn seventy-three years old. Maybe you should be happy that you got to this age, Perry. You and I both knew someone who didn't….for godsake. " Paul refused to feel the sting of tears in his eyes, speaking about his father like that. " Now, I know you're not able to move that big body of yours in the way you were used to, Perry Mason. I know that drives you mad, but it doesn't help, right? Now, you use your brains, and use us as your legs, okay? " Paul filled a glass with water and set it in front of Perry. " And tell me what the hell it is you want us to do next. "

Perry took his pills, and stretched his leg with a painfilled grimace. " Damn, it really hurts…. You're right, I can't stand it that I can't move like in the old days, with your father. You know the two of us would have found her by now…"

Paul snorted. " Yeah, of course…. "

In response to Paul's snarl, Mason's mind started to work in the oldfashioned mode. It was as if a button had been pressed, and Paul Drake was happy to hear the old man's motor running like it used to. " I want you to go through the letters again, and to see if there is any explanation, anything we missed. Then I want you to bring me the CCTV footage of the bank so I can check it myself, I want to see who withdrew the money, and if it was Della I want to know who she was with. Find the bankmanager, and let him phone me right away. I want you to check the securitycamera's outside the bank, and bring the video's to me. Watch them yourself. If you see antything odd, tell me about it. I need you to go to the place where the van was rented, and see if you can find witnesses, for instance, who was behind the counter when it was rented. You have to check the liqueurshop on the other side of the street, they should be in at this time on a Saturday. Get more possible witnesses, and question them. Put Brock's sergeants on it as well. Check the numberplates of the cars that were driving by yesterday afternoon, ask the drivers of these cars if they have seen anything. Anything at all. "

" Okay, got that. " Ken made a list in his notebook, and quickly deliberated with Paul who was to take which action.

When the tasks were divided between them, Drake walked to Perry, and squeezed his shoulder. " Right, old lug. We're on our way. Now you rest a bit, and eat, okay? If we find something, you'll be the first to know…We'll report back to you every hour anyway…."

" Paul...Ken…." he grunted to them, as they walked away. " Thank you…" it was still a grunt, but his eyes showed them how he really felt.

" Hang in there, Perry. " Ken turned at the door.

" She'll be fine. We'll find her. " Paul squeezed his shoulder again.

" Yeah, please do..."

Two hours later, Perry sat himself down at the kitchentable again, with his head in his hands. The first call had come from Ken, who obtained the video's from the bank, and was now on his way to the rental place. Paul had phoned that he had found about a hundred cars that had driven by at the moment Della was taken.

The emptiness Perry had been afraid to find in their home, came over him now that Brock and his sergeants had left to go to the station to continue their investigation there, and to interview the witnesses Paul had found. Perry had also checked out the entire house again himself, and found nothing was missing or different or out of place. The police also hadn't found any clue or trace. Apparently Della hadn't been here before she vanished into thin air.

Researching their walk-in closet, one of the sergeants had made a remark to Brock, about the quality and the expensive brands of her clothes, and that he had a wife that would definetely take them with her if she decided to run off with what he called 'some other guy'. Perry had just thrown him a very cold and stern look. Sick and tired of suggestions, he had turned his back on him, and went to watch the CCTVfootage of the officebuilding again, he had taken home. No clues, no nothing.

Now he poured himself another whiskey. The anger and frustration had again risen to an unknown level. He downed the whiskey in one gulp, and threw the empty glass against the wall. It broke into pieces just above the sink.

There was no rest to find here. While he walked towards the frontdoor to drag himself to the office again, his hand touched one of her jackets at the hallstand. He stroked it, and whispered while he shook his head. " Della, baby, where the hell are you? "

####

" Where the hell am I, and why am I here? When can I go home? "

The same woman that had brought Della her food and drinks earlier, now just frowned at her when she asked the same questions again.

The last sentence the woman had spoken to her this morning, was " You have to eat, Miss Street. If you don't eat, you die, and you will never get home anyway. " Now the questions Della asked weren't even given attention anymore. The woman, dressed in white, just pointed at the food, and watched Della Street arrogantly.

The day before, she had indeed refused to have the food that was brought to her. She had only drunk water. But now that she was starving, she decided to have the leisuring diner that was so very well prepared for her. This morning she had already noticed that someone had gone through great lengths to find out what she liked best for breakfast. Toast, strawberryjam, yoghurt, strong tea. Lots of fruit. All had been displayed in front of her on two large trays. But she hadn't eaten from it.

In the afternoon, lunch had been even better, freshly baked brown bread, butter, ceasar salad, tuna salad, her favourite white wine. She had taken a little bit, and had noticed that this was real fresh food of very good quality.

Now also diner seemed to be perfect, and all very well adjusted to her taste. A nice small steak, grilled vegetables, grilled potatoes and a simple green salad with just tomatoes and tunamayonnaise. It tasted as well as it looked, and she ate it all.

She looked around in her room. All white, the bed was white, the blankets and the carpets were white, the adjoining private bathroom she had was white, even the towels were white. She hadn't used the white jacuzzi yet, but it was tempting.

The huge window in front of her gave her a view on a large garden, with old high trees and a very well-maintained lawn. Had she been free to move, had she been in the company of the love of her life, she would have enjoyed it here very much. But she was alone, the door was locked, there was no way out of here. She had tried to break the window, but nothing had happened when she had thrown a chair against it. Her mind was still working on a way to get out, yet the thought that she couldn't escape became stronger with every minute she was in the room. It made her angry, with a hint of despair.

The woman walked in again, to pick up her dishes this time. She smiled a small smile when she saw that the lady she tried to take care of, had been eating almost all of the well prepared meal. " Was it nice, Miss Street? "

No answer, just a cold look.

" Now remember, you can ask me for anything you want, and I'll provide you with it. Are there any books you'd like to read? Magazines? "

" Take me home. "

" I already told you before that that is not possible, Miss Street. Would you like television in your room? "

" So I can watch the news to see what they have on my disappearance or whatever it is you want to call this? No thanks. "

" I thought you might like to see your Mr. Mason…he is on the news quite frequently I must say…"

That hit a nerve. Della touched her hair at the back of her head gently, a gesture that showed she felt really uncomfortable and insecure. Oh, Perry, she thought. My, Perry. What did he think now? How was he doing? Really without thought she had gone downstairs to the hall to see about the mail, which was stupid, because there rarely was mail on Fridays, and then she hadn't returned to the office. When had he noticed? What had happened? Was he driving himself mad now? And the money, she had withdrawn almost all of the money. She had refused at first, but then she did it, because they had threatened to do something they didn't define to Paul and Ken. Which was just a threat of course, but she couldn't take the chance, could she?

What would he be thinking…?

The woman's voice startled her. " But I can also get you some movies. Just tell me what you want. As long as it makes you feel good, and you can relax here. "

" How can I relax here, if I don't know what I'm doing here? I don't want to be here, " Della snapped at the woman. She inhaled deeply.

" So, if I tell you why you are here, you will relax, is that right, Miss Street? " A male voice came from behind the door, and she turned on her heels. " That's good, because I intend to take very good care of you..." Then a familiair face entered the room.

" My dear God… so this really was about you…I guessed it was about you... it really was you..."

" Yes, Miss Street…Della...and I'm so happy to see you here... I'm so glad you didn't give them any problems to take you here… " A hand reached out to her cheek, and she briskly stepped away, crossing her arms in front her.

" Well, now that you're so very happy to see me, you can tell me what the hell I'm doing here and why. " Her eyes were fierce.

" 'What the hell?' Tskkkkk, Della. Aren't you enjoying yourself? I thought I had made sure you have everything you want…."

" What I want is to go home. "

" Yeeees, of course. But that is not possible. As you were told before by my staff a couple of times. "

" Then at least tell me why I'm here. "

" I will, Della, I will… but before that…."

" Yes..? "

" ...I want you to phone Mason and read him a note…"