Chapter Eleven

Everyone was tense as the next day dawned.

Nothing new had happened at Trapezoid Solutions. Gerard, as Paul had learned from Steve, was the general manager of the business. And he continued to insist that he had no contact with Ellena Fanchon other than business-related matters. Steve informing him that there was a witness who had heard him conversing with Ellena via a telephone on Speaker had not deterred him. Sergeant Brice informing him that Ellena was dead had not deterred him. He had scoffed at the police bringing that up, but since he had acknowledged that he had talked to Ellena for even business reasons, they were sure they had him. He had never denied that she was dead; he had only expressed mocking at the police for daring to mention it. Still, without proof they could do little more than watch and wait.

Aaron had not taken the news of Della's possession well. Pete had been afraid of that. Once Perry had arrived at Manzana Valley, he had explained in more detail and told why he was sadly certain of Della's fate. By the end of the evening, Aaron and Marian had both been shaken to the core but had been willing to accept that Perry knew what he was talking about. They were both fearful of what the morning would bring, especially now that they knew the supernatural did seem to be involved.

Upon returning home, Perry had barely got any sleep, if any at all. Every little while he tried Della's home phone and her cellphone and continued to not have any luck with either. As he stumbled out of bed in the morning, a complete wreck, he decided he had better try to work on his costume for the masquerade ball that night. Whatever was going to happen would happen there. And he was certain Della would be there.

Many of the others were planning to be present as well. Steve and Brice were going, of course, both because of the threat to Aaron's life and the possibility that they would find out the truth about the death in Topanga Canyon.

Hamilton, too, was going, mainly due to worry over Della's state. Since no crime had been proved regarding the unfortunate body, the case had not been brought before the district attorney's office yet. But what was happening to Della was a huge concern of his as her friend.

Even Gene Torg and Pearl Chute were considering getting into the act. When Pearl stopped by Gene's apartment that morning with the newspaper, he was pacing the floor like a caged animal. She wasn't sure whether to be amused or sympathetic.

"Alright, Gene, what's wrong?" she greeted at last, letting the paper drop to the end table.

Gene turned to face her. "They still don't know what happened to that guy in the canyon!" he exclaimed. "We could be pulled in by the cops again at any time!"

"So? We have Perry Mason on our side. That has to count for something." Pearl regarded her long-time friend with entertainment. "Relax, Gene. Nothing's going to happen to us."

"You can't know that for sure!" Gene retorted. "What if that guy was even killed because he gave the jewelry to me?"

"Now you're reaching. It seems to me that anyone would be grateful to unload that stuff." Pearl rested her hands on Gene's shoulders.

"Only if they knew what was wrong with it," Gene returned. "If they didn't believe all the supernatural jazz, they'd think someone was an idiot to try to get rid of such an emerald mine."

"So what do you think we should do about it?" Pearl asked.

"That masquerade's tonight, isn't it?" Gene glanced at the newspaper. "Maybe we should go and keep an eye on things."

"And do what? Try to keep that Aaron Stuart character from getting killed?" Pearl retorted. "That's out of our line, Gene. Forget about it."

"I can't. I just keep thinking that if we're implicated, we'll probably go to jail . . . or worse. I don't want that to happen!" Gene was restless.

"That might happen all the more if we're on the scene, Sweet," Pearl pointed out.

"But if we could just stop something from happening," Gene protested. "That's all I want."

"And we could get killed in the process," said Pearl. "Is it worth that?"

Gene cringed. "Well, no. Still, maybe if we show up in costumes, we can keep an eye on things without being spotted."

"What would you even dress up as?" Pearl wondered.

"I don't know," Gene sighed. "Something I could easily hide behind. Why don't we go to a costume shop and just look around, see what we can find?"

Deciding to humor him, she finally nodded. "Alright, Gene. We'll do that much."

xxxx

The Manzana Valley Prep School's autumn masquerade ball was big news in the county. While it was mainly for the students, they welcomed anyone who wanted to drop in for a fun evening. It was a celebration of both the harvest season and Halloween, as well as a way to show off the new school, and Manzana County was excited all around. As evening approached, people of all ages began to ready themselves to join the ball.

The strange threats against Aaron Stuart were becoming more widely publicized, to Aaron's chagrin. But while some mothers were threatening to pull their children out of the school, fearing for their safety, amateur detectives and paranormal investigators were intrigued. They wanted a chance to see both the school and the man up close and personal and to try to determine what was really happening at Manzana Valley Prep. Aaron didn't like that any more than he liked the bizarre and sometimes rude parents he sometimes had to deal with.

He spotted Perry as soon as the big man got out of the car and headed towards the school. Relieved, Aaron hurried towards him. "Perry!" He held out a hand. "It's so good to see you. Have you heard anything from Della?"

"No, I haven't," Perry frowned, gripping Aaron's hand. Perry had chosen to dress as an English barrister, complete with long white wig. Aaron was dressed as Ichabod Crane. Thinking on the famous short story, Perry grimly found the costume fitting for the situation. He had to wonder how many Horseman equivalents were lurking on the grounds, just waiting to get Aaron alone.

"I'm sure she'll be here," Aaron said, dragging Perry back to the present. "Let's go inside and see Marian."

"She's dressed as Ichabod's love interest, I assume," said Perry as they headed for the doors.

"What? Oh. Yes," Aaron replied, clearly distracted. "She thought it would be nice to have matching costumes."

Perry smiled. "That sounds like her."

The speakers were intoning Monster Mash in the background as they stepped into the gym. It was decorated with orange, red, and black crepe paper, pumpkins, and spiders, all hanging from the ceiling in unique and creative ways. Other pumpkins and spiders—and the occasional skull—were on the tables set up at one end of the room. At the other end, both students and adults were dancing on the floor.

Perry nodded in approval. "It all looks good."

Aaron was pleased. "Everyone has worked hard on this, especially the students. This is their night. You see why I didn't want to cancel or postpone, Perry."

"Yes, I see," Perry said. "I just hope that was the right decision for your safety."

"I just want to see this whole horrible mess be over and done with!" Aaron exclaimed. "Whoever's behind it will surely come out tonight."

"They surely will," Perry frowned. "Someone will need to be with you at all times."

"They might not come out then," Aaron retorted.

"Inconspicuously with you, if you're so determined to set yourself up as bait," Perry grunted. "Where's Pete?"

"Oh, he's over there," Aaron sighed, waving a hand towards a man dressed as famous retired basketball star John Stockton.

"What's wrong?" Perry asked in surprise at Aaron's tone. "Isn't he working out for you?"

"He is, only he told me that he suspects Janet or one of the other teachers of being involved," Aaron said. "I just don't want to believe that any of them would be a part of something like this, especially Janet. She's been with us so long. . . ."

"She did care about Tobin Wade," Perry quietly pointed out.

"So what does that prove?" Aaron shot back. "She was highly disillusioned when she learned the truth. As were we all."

"I realize that, but there's always that chance that deep down, she's as angry with you as Ellena is," Perry answered. "She may have been disillusioned about Wade at first, but it might not have continued."

"I won't believe that without more to go on than a handful of suspicions," Aaron insisted. "Oh, here's Marian."

"Aaron!" Marian cried as she hiked up a handful of billowing skirt and hurried over to them. "I was getting worried. And Perry!" She smiled. "I'm so glad you're here."

Perry smiled at her. "Hello, Marian. You're looking beautiful tonight."

"And you're very dashing," Marian smiled back. "I'm sure Della will pick you out in an instant when she comes."

Perry paused, suddenly troubled.

Noticing, Aaron frowned. "What's the trouble?"

"I was just thinking," Perry said. "What if I can't pick Della out? It will probably be Ellena in control. And I don't think she'd do something as obvious as dressing up as herself."

"Well . . ." Marian bit her lip, thinking. "What about something like a 1920s flapper?"

"That would fit," Perry agreed.

"So we'll look for someone dressed like that," Marian suggested.

"Or as anything else that suits her personality," Aaron said. He cringed, still not sure he fully believed the tale. He was willing to believe that the supernatural might exist, but he hadn't wanted to discover it this way.

Marian started, seeing something out of the corner of her eye. "Those two look like they just stepped out of New Orleans during Mardi Gras," she exclaimed. "Could that woman be her?"

Perry started too and immediately whirled. But when he saw the woman's hair peeking out from behind the elaborate Mardi Gras mask, as well as the man's dark curls, he shook his head. "To be honest, I think that's Pearl Chute and Gene Torg," he said in amazement.

"What on Earth would they be doing here?" Aaron objected.

"That's what I'd like to know," Perry replied. Weaving his way around tables, he quickly approached the colorful couple. Seeing and recognizing him, they started.

"Oh . . . Mr. Mason," the man said sheepishly. It was definitely Gene Torg. "We didn't fool you, eh?"

"Quite frankly, no," Perry retorted. He laid one hand over the other. "Why are you here? Don't you know it could be dangerous?"

"Yes!" Pearl inserted. "But he still wanted to come. He has some crazy idea that maybe we can keep Dr. Stuart from getting hurt and find out who's responsible for Selkirk's death while we're at it."

"If anyone is," Perry interjected. "It could still be proven that it was an accident."

"Do any of us really believe that?" Gene scoffed.

"I don't know what to believe," Perry returned. "There isn't enough evidence to really say one way or the other." He looked back and forth between them. "But since you're apparently determined to stay here in the thick of it all, keep an eye out for anything suspicious."

"We've already seen something a little odd," Pearl said.

Perry looked to her in surprise. "What's that?"

"There was a man skulking around here just a few minutes ago dressed like the Grim Reaper," Pearl said. "You know, black hooded robe, scythe . . ."

"He even has skeleton gloves," Gene put in.

"Well, he certainly went all in," Perry mused.

"Does that interest you?" Gene pressed.

"Yes, it does," Perry frowned. "I don't see anyone here who's wearing a hood. That person must want to conceal their identity very badly."

"Our thoughts exactly," said Pearl. "And that could definitely mean he's up to no good."

"Let me know if you see him again," Perry requested. "If you can't find me, tell Aaron Stuart or the basketball player." He nodded at each in turn.

"Okay," Gene agreed.

xxxx

The person in the Grim Reaper costume definitely didn't want his identity revealed, albeit not for the reason Perry, Pearl, and Gene imagined. He had slipped out of the gym, following two other people who had quietly exited before him. As they conversed on a staircase, he hid behind the stairs and a large potted plant to listen.

"Ellena should have been here by now," the man griped. "Didn't you say your sister told you she'd left?"

"Yes, a long time ago," the woman frowned, folding her arms. "But she was going to stop at a costume shop first. She said she wanted to see what Della Street might choose."

The man slapped his forehead, but then paused. "Wait a minute. That might actually be a good strategy. They're probably going to be looking for someone dressed like what Ellena might choose. The woman she's possessing would likely pick something completely opposite and might blend into the crowd more."

"So what do we do?" the woman retorted. "I don't know what prominent lawyers' secretaries like to dress up at Halloween as."

"Look for anything harmless and cute, maybe," the man suggested. "I've been doing some research on the Street woman and she's fairly conservative."

"Okay. So maybe Alice in Wonderland or something like that?"

"Or maybe a famous woman from history, like Susan B. Anthony."

The woman's voice lowered, but the Grim Reaper could still hear her. "You know, it's a shame we're going to have to kill her."

"But you know we have to."

"I understand that there's no telling what she knows. But that doesn't mean I like it."

The Grim Reaper had gone stiff. Now he had to get a message to Perry somehow, someway. Perry was already worried about Della's safety, but he might not have considered that they might kill her when all was said and done.

"Okay, so you don't like it. As long as you don't stop me from doing it, I don't care."

"I won't stop you. But he might!"

Realizing he had been spotted, the Grim Reaper knocked the artificial plant into his enemies' path and fled, clutching the scythe. Behind him, he could hear the man swearing a blue streak.

"So now someone's overheard us! We'll have to kill him too!"

"Maybe he didn't even hear enough to know what we were talking about," the woman suggested. "He could have thought we were rehearsing some skit for the ball."

"The way he knocked this thing over and ran, do you really believe that?" the man snarled. "He knows we're planning a murder! Now he'll go right to someone in there and tell them! Probably Mason."

"Okay." The woman was undaunted. "So we'll change costumes and sneak back in. He'll probably describe what we were wearing, but if we're not wearing that any longer, they'll have a hard time finding us."

". . . That's a good idea." The man sounded somewhat surprised. Scowling, he added, "And the Reaper will probably have the same one. We don't know who was under that robe. He could change into anything and we wouldn't know it was him."

"Nevermind that. The most important thing is for us not to be caught. You'll have to let him go, at least for now." The woman tugged on his arm. "Let's find something to wear in the school's theatrical department."

Nodding, the man allowed himself to be led in that direction.

Just inside the doorway, close enough to hear the end of their conversation, the Reaper frowned to himself. They were right; he would have to change costumes. But he wouldn't dare go into the drama department to find another one. Anyway, right now he had to get that message to Perry.

Spotting him at the refreshment table, the Reaper slipped along the wall in the shadows before coming out near the punch. "Mr. Mason," he said quietly.

Perry frowned and started to turn. "You!" he exclaimed, seeing the classic Halloween get-up.

"I can't tell you who I am and that's not important anyway," the Reaper said. "But you need to know that Ellena Fanchon's cohorts are here and they plan to kill Della Street at some point tonight."

"What?!" Perry spun around the rest of the way. "How do you know this?!"

"I overheard them talking." The Reaper paused. "I recognized at least one of their voices."

"Who?" Perry demanded, setting the cup of punch down. By now several others nearby had turned to look at the spectacle.

"The woman," the Reaper replied. "Her name is Carola Madsen. She was a friend of Ellena's and an acquaintance of Tobin Wade's."

Perry only took a moment to absorb that information. "You're David Solomon, aren't you?" he realized.

"It's not important who I am!" the Reaper snapped. "The only important thing is who the woman is. And the fact that she and her friend are going to get new costumes in the drama department. If someone hurries there, maybe they can be caught now!"

Perry was rushing for the door in the next instant. "Pete!" he yelled across the gym.

Pete jumped a mile, but quickly turned to hurry after Perry. "What is it?"

"The drama department," Perry barked. "Now!"

The Reaper watched them go. Hopefully those two could be caught, but he had a bad feeling they would still get away. Or maybe Perry and Pete would get hurt trying to catch them. He would go with them, but he felt the need to stay here now and watch over Aaron. Ellena was still loose and could turn up at any time. He had to be ready. He couldn't bother with changing his costume, as he had intended moments before.

He sighed, gripping the scythe as he slowly faded back into the shadows of the room. He wished he hadn't been caught. In the past he had been so stealthy at what he did. But he had eventually been caught then too, setting off a chain of events that still haunted him tonight.

"Excuse me."

He looked up with an alarmed start. Aaron was standing right in front of him, seeming puzzled.

". . . What do you want?" the Reaper asked, hoping that he was keeping his voice muffled enough to obscure identification.

"I just wondered what you said that got Mr. Mason and Mr. Kelton out of here in such a rush," Aaron frowned. "And who you are."

"Everyone is anonymous at a masquerade ball, unless they choose not to wear a mask," the Reaper replied. "As for what I said, I warned them about a couple of your enemies. If you know what's good for you and for your wife, you'll stay in here."

Aaron stared at him now. "And are you warning me or threatening me? How do you know about my enemies?!"

"I overheard them. They'll be out for my blood if they can find me. I'm warning you, Dr. Stuart." The Reaper stepped away, keeping himself close to the wall. In a moment several students danced in front of him, allowing him the chance to slip into a more inconspicuous spot.

Aaron, seeing he had vanished, still stared at the place where he had been seconds earlier. Then, worried for Marian, he quickly looked around for her instead.

In his heart he prayed no one would be harmed tonight.

xxxx

Perry and Pete kept to the shadows, moving as quietly as possible towards the drama department. "They might already be gone when we get there," Pete said low.

"That's possible," Perry nodded. "Probable, in fact. But I just realized something. The Grim Reaper I was talking to said the woman's name is Carola Madsen."

"Madsen?" Pete blinked. "The same name as the current owner of Tobin Wade's cabin!"

"And somehow I don't think that's a coincidence," Perry said. "I'm going to have to get a message to Steve or Sergeant Brice. You don't know if they're here yet, do you?"

"No, I don't," Pete frowned. "Do you think they'd dress up?"

"If they want to blend in, they would," Perry said. "Wait a minute!" He held up his hands to stop Pete. "Here's the drama room. Someone's in there; I can hear them."

Pete reached for a small gun he had concealed in a deep pocket. "Let's move in then," he said. "Carefully and quietly."

Perry followed him in and they both followed the sounds of someone rummaging through a clothing rack and pushing hangers aside. As they drew closer, however, the sounds ceased.

"Someone's in here," a man hissed.

"Then just grab anything and let's go!" a woman retorted. "This is no time to be picky."

Pete dashed out, gun bared. "Stop!" he yelled. "I've got a gun!"

The man swore, responding by pushing the wheeled hanger rack right at him. Pete gasped, leaping out of the way. Perry also jumped aside. At the same moment he did, a gun went off and a man yelped in pain. "My arm!"

Perry struggled to push his way past the rack of clothes. "Pete?"

Pete was sprawled on top of a crate, the smoking gun clutched in his hand. "I hit him," he realized.

"But not seriously," Perry frowned. "There's two sets of footsteps running out the back door."

Pete slowly got to his feet. "Well, the fact that one of them's wounded will surely change their plans now," he said.

"That's true," Perry agreed. "And I wish and hope that change would be good. But I'm not at all sure it will be."

Pete had to admit, the way this case was going, he wasn't sure either. "So what's the plan?"

"I'm going back to the gymnasium and try to find Steve or Brice," Perry said. "Why don't you look around outside? If I see Paul, I'll send him to join you."

"Alright." Pete headed for the exit onto the grounds. "Be careful."

"The same to you." Perry pushed the clothing rack out of his way before going to the door they had entered through. He was deeply troubled.

Already the ball was becoming dangerous. Who knew what would happen before the night was out . . . and how in the thick of it Della would be.