Meanwhile, on the other side of Los Angeles…

A broad-shouldered, sinister-looking man pulled his dark van up to the backdoor of a highly disreputable nightclub. Slipping out of the car and through the door, he went up the back staircase, and found his way into a certain lounge.

The spacious room was filled with men in leather jackets. Many of them had scars from old fistfights on their faces, and were holding glasses of hard liquor in their hands. Cigar smoke hung thick in the air. Some of them were playing poker, and gambling tens of thousands of dollars on the game.

The newcomer made his way across the room to where three men were sitting – the three men who had, one month earlier, sat in a black sedan outside of the Brent Building and watched Perry and Della get into his Cadillac convertible. Addressing the oldest of the men, he said with a sadistic chuckle,

"I just thought that you would like to know that everything is going exactly according to plan, Boss. You really were onto something when you said that the loss of that gal would ruin Mason."

"You were in the courtroom today, then?"

"Yes, sir, in the very back of the audience, just like you instructed me."

"No one paid you any attention?"

"No."

"Didn't think they would. That's why I picked you to go – you haven't been caught in connection with any large crime yet, so the police and Mason don't know you. Anyway, how is the prey?"

"She fainted dead away after the case was finished. As you predicted, the fearsome Mr. Mason almost lost his head! He tried to wake her – but of course he couldn't. He started cradling her to himself, not even noticing that the reporters were having a field day and snapping pictures for all they were worth. He looked more like a wide-eyed little girl clutching her favorite broken doll than a criminal defense lawyer!"

The men burst into laughter, and the mobster sitting on their chief's left burst out,

"Ah, what would I not give to get a glimpse of that sight!"

"It's hardly as good as the original scene, but feast your eyes on this," his friend said, tossing a copy of the evening paper into his lap. Emblazoned on the front page in bold black letters was the headline:

Perry Mason's Secretary Swoons After Acquittal

The article was accompanied by several snapshots of Perry holding the unconscious Della in his arms.

"Poor Mason," another one of the criminals gloated, "Just imagine what he'll look like at her funeral!"

"Speaking of which, is she dead?" their boss asked.

"Not yet. They rushed her to St. Mary's, just like we thought they would, since that is the largest medical center downtown. According to the article, the hospital lists her in critical condition."

"Good," the mob boss said, rubbing his hands together with satisfaction. "This way, it will make it look more as if her death were due to natural causes. And, it will give Mason a few extra days of nail-biting anxiety before the final blow. He'll probably be fit for the psychiatric ward when we're through."

Another malevolent laugh swept through the room.

"Boys," their chief said, leaning back against the velvet sofa, "it is time to implement Phase Two of my plan."

I know that this was a short chapter, and I promise that the next one will be longer! I just needed to make sure that you all knew that the mobsters were still in the picture, and, that surprise - they WERE responsible for Della's illness...and they are not done yet!

Happy Fourth of July to anyone who celebrates!

Thank you for all the reviews :)