Chapter Two
"There you go, Mr. Drake. It just needed a little touch-up work. Now it's running good as new."
Paul Drake smiled, pleased, as the chief mechanic at Amos Berry's car shop handed him the keys to his convertible. "Thanks, Dave," he said. "Tip-top service, as always."
David nodded, wiping his hands on a greasy cloth. "What happened to get the steering so off-kilter in the first place?"
Paul gave an exaggerated sigh. "Oh, you know, the usual—chasing a suspect and it didn't go the way I planned. He ran me off the road and I ran over something that choked up the steering."
David shook his head. "I swear, Paul, you and other P.I.s give us the strangest jobs. Last week we had a car in here owned by Joe Mannix and it was a mess. Everything was all twisted up underneath. I didn't know if we were ever going to get it road-worthy again. But we finally patched it up somehow."
Paul was amused. "I've heard Joe Mannix has a bad reputation for having trouble with crooks on the road. Now, on the other hand, I don't usually have that kind of problem."
"I'll give you that," David conceded. "But when you do have trouble with a car, it's a real lulu." He set the cloth aside. "So where are you off to now? Perry Mason case?"
"I have a lot of clients, Dave," Paul retorted. "Perry is only one of them."
"But he's also a close friend," David said. "You can't say that about all your clients."
"Touché," Paul admitted. "Anyway, no, Perry's off with a client and hasn't asked me to do any work on the case . . . yet. I was probably going to head home to bed."
"Just wait—in a couple of hours you'll be awakened from a dead sleep and asked to go tail some guy or find out everything you can about a mysterious woman."
"Probably," Paul sighed.
"So who's the client Perry's meeting with?" David asked, leaning on the car.
"Now you know I can't give out that kind of information," Paul said. "Even if I knew it."
"Don't you?"
"I do." Paul stepped over to the car and David moved aside. "Perry's cases have a way of going public eventually, so you might hear about it from the paper in the morning for all I know. But you won't hear about it from me."
David grinned. "Okay, Paul. You know I'd never ask you to do anything illegal or against your principles."
"And that is much appreciated," Paul smiled.
David nodded. As he moved farther away from the car, his eyes glittered in remembrance. "Oh, Amos said that when you have the chance, he wants to talk to you about some classic car he fixed up last week."
"Yeah?" Paul blinked in surprise. "Does he think it's tied in with something crooked?"
"No; I think he just wanted to gab about it with someone else who appreciates classic cars," David answered. With a wry and mischievous smirk he added, "Whether or not he actually hears what you answer back is debatable."
Paul chuckled. "Old Amos will never admit he needs a hearing aid."
"That'd be the day." David turned to leave. "Well, have fun with your car, Paul. Try not to bang it up again too soon."
"Believe me, Dave, that's the last thing I want to do!" Paul declared.
He climbed into his car and inserted the key in the ignition. Through the rearview mirror, he could see David vanishing into the back room.
Now he was an interesting and mysterious character. Which was fitting, since Amos Berry was one of the most unusual and colorful characters Paul did business with. Amos had told Paul that David had turned up some time back looking for work, willing to learn all about the ins and outs of cars, and Amos had been glad to teach him. How they had actually been able to carry on intelligible conversations during the process was a mystery Paul would probably never understand.
Shaking his head at the mental images, he decided to head to the Brent building. If Perry wasn't back from Manzana Valley yet, Della might be around to say Goodnight to. If he knew Della, she would still be in that office, waiting up for Perry. Always the faithful secretary and loyal friend. That was just the way all of them liked it.
xxxx
Manzana Valley had changed in the years since Perry had defended Aaron Stuart for the murder of Tobin Wade and eventually proved him innocent. The community that was just getting started at the end of that case had blossomed into the area its developer had dreamed of. And, as promised, Aaron had his new school—a beautiful, modern campus instead of the converted old house he had used at the beginning.
Perry toured the grounds in appreciation, pleased to see what had happened and pleased to see Aaron's enthusiasm and love for the new Manzana Valley Prep School. His wife Marian proudly served as secretary, even though now there was certainly enough money to hire someone else. Aaron preferred to have his wife fill the position and be able to spend each working day with her.
The tour was lengthy but impressive. Aaron, while genuinely proud of the campus, seemed to be stalling for time. But eventually there was nothing more to see and they returned to Aaron's office. Aaron shut the door, giving them complete privacy at last.
"Well, Aaron," said Perry, "this has all been very fascinating. But you sounded so upset on the phone that I know you didn't bring me down here just to tour the facilities."
Aaron sighed and nodded. "You're right, Perry." He sank down at his desk. "I've already gone over the office to make sure it isn't bugged."
"Bugged?" Perry raised an eyebrow. "This must be serious."
"It is. The school hasn't been open for very long and everything was going fine for a while, but then strange things started to happen."
"What kinds of strange things?" Perry frowned.
"Oh . . . items disappearing and then reappearing where they weren't left, voices in the halls, mysterious music from nowhere . . ." Aaron shook his head and threw up his hands. "The students are starting to spread stories that the campus is haunted and that it's probably built on some ancient Native American burial ground."
"But you don't believe that," Perry prompted.
"Of course not!" Aaron scoffed. "A human being has to be behind this. If Tobin were still alive, I'd say he was doing it just to get back at me. As it is, I have no idea who could be doing this. I'm having new checks run on all the staff, even though I did that when they first applied for the positions."
"That's a very good idea," Perry nodded. "What is it you would like me to do?"
"Well . . . what I'd really like is for someone to try to infiltrate, get to know the staff, see if there's something they might end up revealing to someone they didn't know was reporting to me," Aaron said. "And I'd also like someone to be on the outside, trying to find out if it's someone not on the staff who's doing this."
"That's fair enough," Perry said. "Attack the problem from both sides."
"Can you arrange it, Perry?" Aaron asked, half-rising from his chair in hopefulness.
"Oh, definitely," Perry said. "I'll have Paul investigate on the outside. And he can certainly have someone assigned to talk to the staff."
"Wonderful. There's an autumn masquerade dance coming up soon," Aaron said. "All of the staff will be there."
"That would make an excellent social setting for a casual interrogation," Perry declared.
"I was hoping you'd say that. You're welcome to come too, if you'd like," Aaron said. "Just to sort of oversee it all. You could bring your secretary, Miss Street. And if nothing happens, well, at least maybe it would be a nice break from all the chaos."
"I'm sure Della would greatly enjoy that," Perry said. "We don't get a lot of time to attend parties and celebrations."
"I didn't think you did," Aaron said. "You're always so busy; I'm always hearing about you in the paper and on the news."
Perry nodded noncommittally but then hesitated. "So how have you been, Aaron?" he asked abruptly. "I mean really. No façades, no frills."
Aaron looked surprised by the sudden question, but then the surprise faded. "Oh . . . things have been good, for the most part. Marian and I are happy, the school is wonderful, the staff is . . . hopefully exceptional in a good way . . . I thought so before all this started to happen. . . ." He shook his head. "After the mess with Tobin, it's hard to know who you can trust anymore."
"It would be," Perry said sympathetically. "He seemed to have been a genuine friend of yours for years before greed got to him."
"That's the hardest thing about it," Aaron said, sadness slipping into his voice as he looked away at the wall. "He and Marian and I were very good friends for many years. I think there was a time when he would have given his life for either of us. And then to think of what he tried to do to us at the end . . ." He shook his head, gripping a pencil tightly in his hand. "I know what a temptation money can be, especially after all our struggles to try to make ends meet with the old school, but to try to destroy your friend's school, his reputation, and another friend's triumph over alcoholism, all to close the school and get money from the sale of the real estate . . . I'd never dream of such a thing!"
"No honorable person would," Perry said.
Aaron's visage darkened. "I don't know what happened to the Tobin Wade Marian and I knew. I guess he ceased to exist when Tobin decided he loved money more than us. Sometimes Marian said she felt our Tobin was still in there somewhere and he would no doubt regret what he did to us once he was on the other side. If there is anything else after death."
"You don't believe that?" Perry asked.
"I'm a scholar, an intellectual," Aaron replied. "I believe there's good and bad arguments on both sides. I'm not sure anyone can know the truth for sure until they've died themselves, and I'm not anxious for that experience."
Perry half-smiled. "Most people aren't."
"As for Tobin . . ." Aaron scoffed. "It's a nice thought, but as far as I'm concerned, that's all it is—a thought. After the way he so thoroughly turned against us, I have a hard time believing he could ever come to care about us again."
Perry nodded. "That's understandable. Although I suppose if he could change one way, it's possible that he could change back the other way."
Aaron nodded noncommittally. "It's technically possible," he agreed. "I just don't think it's probable. Not considering what Tobin did without any apparent conscience or regret.
"Well, enough of that," he went on abruptly, tossing the pencil aside. "Thank you for agreeing to help, Perry. I just hope we can find out who's behind this without another tragedy happening."
Perry nodded again, diplomatically setting the subject aside even though he was still concerned. What Aaron had been through courtesy of Tobin Wade had left deep emotional scars, and this new calamity was surely tearing into those wounds anew.
"I hope that as well," he said.
xxxx
Della had gone back to straightening her office when another knock came at her office door. "Come in," she said in surprise.
She smiled when a familiar friend looked in on her as the door opened. "Hi, Della."
"Hello, Sergeant," she warmly greeted Sergeant Brice. "What brings you by this late?"
"I was just in the neighborhood and thought I'd say hello," Brice answered, stepping into the room.
"Well, I'm glad you did," Della said. "It gets lonely up here when no one else is around."
"Perry and Paul are out working?" Brice shut the door.
"Perry is. Paul went to pick up his car." Della took a stack of folders to the filing cabinet.
"Oh." Brice chuckled. "I heard about that."
"It could have been a lot worse," Della said. "It's a blessing it wasn't."
Brice sobered. After the myriad of disturbing experiences they had been going through, he definitely agreed with that. "You're right," he said. "Paul was lucky."
"So, what's new at the police department?" Della asked. "Any kooky cases?"
"Well, you know I can't talk about the details, but there was something strange tonight." Brice looked thoughtful. "We found a guy laying dead out near Topanga Canyon."
Della's brow furrowed. "Murdered?"
"We're not sure yet," Brice admitted. "He could have slipped and fallen. But a lot of strange things have been happening out there lately. The most disturbing thing about that is that it's always close by Tobin Wade's old cabin."
Della stared at him. "That is strange," she exclaimed. "Does Steve have any idea what's going on?"
"We both figure some joker is trying to make it seem like Wade's ghost is haunting the place," Brice said. "Maybe a prank went too far tonight and the poor guy slipped and fell from fright."
Concern flickered in Della's eyes. "That would be horribly tragic. But why would anyone want to pretend that the cabin is haunted now, after all these years have passed?"
"Who knows," Brice said, shaking his head. "Maybe some kids just heard about it recently and thought it sounded like something fun to toy around with. You know how kids get with haunted house stories."
"Oh yes, I know," Della agreed. But the wheels in her head were turning. It seemed like too much of a coincidence that Perry was out talking to Aaron Stuart about new problems at the new school while back in Los Angeles County, Tobin Wade's cabin was suddenly haunted.
"Are you okay, Della?"
She snapped to attention, seeing Brice looking at her in concern. "Oh. Yes, Sergeant, I'm fine," she insisted. "I was just thinking."
"Do you have an idea about what might be going on?" Brice studied her with new curiosity.
"Maybe," Della said slowly, "but I'll need to run it past Perry before I say anything."
Brice smiled. "Okay, I understand. But you'll let me know if it looks like it might have anything to do with this case?"
"Of course," Della smiled back.
Brice was easy to talk to and fairly easy-going when it came to being friends with Perry and company as well as staying loyal to the police department. If it were up to him, he would probably be a little more lax than any of the Lieutenants were when it came to giving information to Perry, Della, and Paul, but he deferred to what the Lieutenants wanted when they were in charge, since he respected them and that was procedure. On his own, however, he gave Perry's crew a bit more leeway. Perhaps that was one reason why Della enjoyed his company.
They chatted for a few minutes more, mostly with small talk now. Della asked him about his uncle, who was also a Los Angeles police officer, and he inquired after Della's aunt, whom she had visited recently. When he left, needing to get back to the station, Della was in a much happier mood than she had been after Gene and Pearl had departed.
This was how Perry found her when he came in moments later. "Well, hello," he smiled. "You're feeling chipper considering the hour. Usually by now you're more than ready to close up shop and go home."
"Well, I thought I'd do a little organizing," Della replied. "The office has been such a mess lately. And I had some interesting visitors I should tell you about. But first, how did it go with Dr. Stuart?"
Perry sighed and opened the door to his office. "We were right; Aaron has some new problems." He hung his hat on the bust of Voltaire and carried his overcoat to the couch, where he slung it across the top.
Della followed him in, as Perry had known and expected she would. "Oh, that poor man. What is it now?"
"Someone's trying to make it seem that the new school is haunted."
Della's audible gasp made Perry straighten and turn to look at her in surprise. "I wonder if that really could tie in with something Sergeant Brice just told me before you came," she exclaimed.
"Sergeant Brice?" Perry smiled a bit. "Oh, so that's why you were in such a good mood." He sobered just as quickly and folded his arms. "What was it he said?"
"He said that someone's been trying to make it look like Tobin Wade's cabin in Topanga Canyon is haunted," Della told him. "And a man was found dead in that area tonight."
Perry stiffened. "What do they think happened?"
"They're not sure." Della shook her head. "He could have simply fallen while hiking. On the other hand, Sergeant Brice suggested that he could have been frightened by something going on at the cabin and lost his footing. Or, of course, it could have been deliberate murder."
Perry started to pace. "It does sound like far too much of a coincidence," he declared. "Aaron Stuart's school and Tobin Wade's cabin, both 'haunted' all of a sudden."
"And Aaron Stuart and Tobin Wade were most certainly connected," Della added.
"Whatever someone's up to, it must be a very cruel plot," Perry frowned. "I wonder if they want Aaron to think that Wade is haunting him for some reason."
Della suddenly looked worried. "You don't think there's any chance that he might be?"
Perry let out a breath of frustration. "I was always open-minded about the possibility of spirits. Now that we've been learning over the past couple of years that the supernatural world is very much real, I'm afraid it is possible. But Aaron believes a human is behind it, and I think we should stick to that reasoning first and foremost instead of automatically going for the paranormal explanation."
Della nodded. "I think so too. That would be horrible if he really isn't free of that awful man's influence even now."
"Mm hmm," Perry nodded, sounding occupied. He paused at his desk, glancing at the notepad on top. "Gene Torg and Pearl Chute were in to see me?" he exclaimed.
"That's right," Della said, quickly switching to the new subject. "They were both very upset about something. They almost seemed afraid. They had a bag of jewelry with them that they said was dangerous."
"Dangerous?" Perry turned to stare at Della, who nodded.
"That's what they said. And they don't know if it's stolen; someone just gave Mr. Torg the sack, at least according to him. He and Miss Chute practically begged me to take it and have you call them to hear their story." Della sighed. "I don't know if it was the right thing, but I finally agreed."
"So where's the jewelry now?" Perry asked.
"In the safe," Della answered. "I didn't think you'd be interested in the case, but I thought maybe you should at least talk to them. They both seemed so worried."
Perry crossed into the law library and started opening the safe almost before Della was finished talking. She followed him, drawing closer as he hauled the door aside and reached in for the sack.
Again, as before, something felt wrong. The necklace seemed to be calling to her.
"Della . . . you know you want to try it on. Come on, go ahead and do it!"
It was almost hypnotic. When Perry lifted out the emerald necklace and studied it in the light, Della started to reach for it with one hand.
If Perry thought Della's actions were strange, he didn't comment. "This is beautiful," he said in amazement. "And most likely stolen."
Perry's words broke through the necklace's spell and Della started, coming back to herself. "That's what I thought," she said. "But I wasn't sure if Gene Torg had been the one to steal it."
"Gene Torg?"
Both Perry and Della jumped a mile as Paul's voice joined the conversation. "Why are you talking about Gene Torg?" Paul exclaimed.
"He brought me a case," Perry said. "Apparently he thinks this necklace is dangerous."
Paul didn't think it was funny. "Maybe that's not so far-fetched as all that. Anything Gene Torg touches becomes a ticking time bomb."
Della regarded him in bewilderment. "I thought he was just a petty criminal."
"Maybe. Maybe not. All I know is that he and his lady friend Pearl Chute were dragged into the police station for questioning," Paul replied. "Somebody saw them in the Topanga Canyon area tonight, not far from Tobin Wade's cabin. Some guy was killed up there tonight."
The news shot through Perry like an arrow. "Paul, are you sure?"
"Sergeant Brice was getting the call just as I was pulling up at the building," Paul said.
The telephone abruptly entered the conversation. Della rushed into Perry's office to answer it, the men right on her heels. "Perry Mason's office," she greeted. "Oh." Her eyes widened in surprise. "Yes, he just came back, Mr. Torg. I've been telling him about your visit."
Perry came up next to her and gestured for the receiver. Della handed it over.
"Mr. Torg?" Perry greeted. "What's this about you and Pearl Chute being picked up by the police?"
"We're both at the station right now," Gene exclaimed. "Some Lieutenant Drumm is grilling us about some guy's death and we don't know what to do. We had no idea anyone died up there! All we wanted was to get rid of the jewelry. Then we thought of bringing it to you instead."
"Which you did. Mr. Torg, I want to know more about this jewelry," Perry said.
"We'll tell you the whole story, but not over the phone. And preferably not here!" Gene sounded completely wound up in knots. "Please, Mr. Mason, will you come down here and make sure we're not booked into jail or something?"
"Does Lieutenant Drumm have a reason to book you?" Perry returned.
"I don't know!" Gene cried. "Maybe if you bring the jewelry, it will help show that we're telling the truth. But please, for the love of Heaven, don't let anyone try it on!"
"Now why would I do that?" Perry shot back. "Nevermind. I'm coming right down." He hung up the phone. "Della, bring that sack. We're going to the police station to try to clear up this mess and find out the truth."
Della looked at Perry in surprise. "Are you going to take the case, Chief?"
"I don't know yet," Perry replied. "But the Topanga Canyon angle makes me interested. There's just too many coincidences going on around here right now."
"Would someone please tell me what's going on?!" Paul interrupted.
"On the way," Perry replied, very occupied. "Oh, and Paul, I also need to tell you about a job I want you to do for Aaron Stuart."
"Sure," Paul blinked. "But what's that got to do with Gene Torg?!"
"I wonder." Perry grabbed his coat. "Della, do you have that sack?"
Della, who had gone back to the library and was once again transfixed by the necklace, jumped a mile out of her mind. "Yes!" she called back. Desperately trying to ignore the voice calling to her, she closed the bag and rolled the top over like a child's lunch. She hurried out of the room, pulling the door shut behind her as she caught up to the waiting Perry and Paul at the door.
"What kept you?" Perry asked.
"I was just making sure the safe was locked again," Della said.
Perry nodded. "Good girl." He headed out the door, Della and Paul right behind him.