The Pink Suit
We know that our group faces some unexpected perils in their jobs, but this time the victim is unexpected. This takes place before Perry and Della become a couple and involves the four men in Della's life.
The Shot
The trial was finally over. It had been one of the hardest, especially since the defendant had been a college friend of Della's—Lenore Carlson. She had been accused of killing her married lover, one Jack Anderson. Perry Mason had uncovered the real killer, even after a particularly damaging testimony from the victim's wife, who had sworn under oath that her husband was coming back to her.
Molly Anderson had completely lost her composure on the stand, swearing that Lenore had killed her husband in a fit of jealousy. Yet as the evidence revealed, Jack's business partner had killed him to cover up his embezzlement. His confession was in no small part due to Della.
Perry had asked Della to wear her pink suit to court. At certain times he had asked Della to get up and leave the courtroom conspicuously for 5 minutes, then return and say something to him. She knew that every time he needed an upper hand, he would slip her a message with one word: Pink. He knew the sight of his beautiful secretary would distract even the most assured witness.
Even the illustrious district attorney, Hamilton Burger, had been distracted. The tactic had worked. Counsel for the defense knew how to take advantage of the situation! Finally, when the man took the witness stand, Perry confronted him with a phony document secured after Della's last trip out and back in.
With the case against their client dismissed and a sulking Burger shuffling documents into his briefcase, Lenore, Della, Paul Drake and Perry were standing by the elevator waiting for it to arrive. Della and Lenore were hugging, while Paul and Perry were discussing where to have dinner when Hamilton Burger and Lt. Tragg were just coming out of the courtroom.
Molly Anderson worked her way through the crowd toward the two women standing by the elevator. She reached in her handbag and pulled the .38 Jack had always kept in the safe at home. She felt the heft of it. The weight was lighter than the ache in her heart. Nothing was heavier than that.
That woman has to pay. It's her fault Jack is dead! He would have come back to me, I know it! Her grief-stricken mind was half-filled with despair and rage.
As she broke through the crowd of people, she raised the gun and shouted, "YOU FILTHY WHORE!"
Everything seemed to move in slow motion. Everyone turned but surprise froze them for a few seconds. And then chaos erupted. Everything began to happen at once. The bailiff was the first to react, leaping toward the woman as the gun went off.
People scattered in all directions, screams and shouts as bystanders ran. Molly was pushed to the ground and disarmed. The deafening silence after the shot overwhelmed the corridor as the acrid smell of gunpowder filled the small space. Slowly all seemed to return to normal until the piercing scream from Lenore ripped the scene apart again.
"DELLA!"
All eyes turned to see the beautiful secretary lying crumpled on the floor, a bright red stain spreading across the front of her pink suit.
The Hospital
As the ambulance screamed through the street, Perry and Paul were in the car right behind, with Burger and Tragg in a police car leading the way. As all three vehicles screeched to a halt and the attendants wheeled Della's stretcher into Emergency, the four men leapt from the vehicles and ran inside.
A nurse immediately brought them all to a stop.
"I'm sorry, gentlemen, this is as far as you go. I'm going to need one of you to fill out some paperwork and the rest of you can have a seat over there in the waiting room."
Perry was about to protest, but Paul gripped the big man's shoulder.
"It's an argument you can't win. C'mon, Pal. I'll help you with the paperwork." Paul led Perry to a chair in the area marked "Waiting" and sat beside him.
Burger followed, but Tragg lingered. Slowly reaching into his pocket, he withdrew his badge and flashed it.
"Look, I know I can't be back here while the doctors work on her, but as soon as you know something, find me. This is an official police matter." He looked older than his sixty-two years. "I'm going to need the evidence they remove from her. The bullet, the clothes . . . everything. You understand?"
The nurse nodded. She looked as troubled as he felt, but her professionalism never slipped. "I'll see to it, Lieutenant. Why don't you have a seat? It will take time."
Perry tried to control his shaking long enough to concentrate on the paperwork in front of him. If he weren't seated, he would have collapsed. His blue eyes were dark and his mouth and brows were drawn. He had seldom looked worse. Paul finally took pity on him and pulled the clipboard from his hands.
The detective filled out what he could, then took the paperwork to the registration desk. As he was returning, a doctor came out and looked at the four men.
Perry rose and came toward the doctor. "I'm Perry Mason, Miss Street's employer."
The doctor nodded, then glanced at the others.
"And I'm Paul Drake," Paul added, then supplied, "This is Hamilton Burger and Lt. Arthur Tragg."
The doctor nodded to the men in turn.
"I'm Dr. Thomas," he informed them, then indicated he wanted them to retake their seats. "Your names and faces are familiar to me. I know you all have questions, and I will do my best to answer what I can. First, who is Miss Street's next of kin?"
Perry sighed. "She has an aunt in California, but it will take time for her to come. Her parents are across the country. I am listed as her emergency contact, and I hold her medical power of attorney."
The doctor nodded, as though that bit of information confirmed something. Then he looked over at Lt. Tragg and asked, "And you will be running the investigation into this shooting?"
Tragg's shaggy brows bunched together and his voice was gruff. "For now, though, I will likely have to surrender the reins to someone else. I'm . . . too close. I work homicide, though. I hope you're telling me I won't be needed in my official capacity."
Dr. Thomas didn't look away from his direct gaze. "I'm not going to lie. Right now, Miss Street is in critical condition. The bullet is lodged very near her heart. If it has done any permanent damage—well, we won't know the extent until she is in surgery. I wanted to talk to you before she goes in."
"Doctor," Perry started, then choked on his words. Everything he wanted to know, everything he could think to ask, boiled down to a question the doctor couldn't possibly answer.
The doctor studied the grim expression on the men's faces, his eyes coming to rest on Perry's. His heart squeezed, but he was experienced enough to know that offering hope where it wasn't warranted did not help.
"I anticipate a long surgery. Mr. Mason, I know better than to suggest you go home, but the rest of you . . . There is no need to stick around. Lt. Tragg, until the officers assigned to the case come, will I be giving you all the necessary evidence?"
Tragg nodded.
Paul stood and offered his hand. "Thank you, Dr. Thomas. I know I speak for all of us in saying that if she needs anything at all, anything…"
The doctor shook the detective's hand, then nodded to each of the others before turning away. They watched in silence as he headed back through the doors that separated them from the most important woman in Los Angeles.
After a long minute Perry addressed the other men, his voice still strangled, "If you guys want to go, I will be here. I'll—I'll keep you informed as I'm updated."
Burger walked up to his courtroom nemesis and laid a hand on his shoulder. "You've already ruined my day, Perry. My docket is empty. Nothing short of a bomb will move any of us until we know Della is out of surgery."
Perry looked at the man. As many times as he faced Hamilton across the court, he had never seen him this upset. "Thank you, Hamilton."
Paul watched Perry closely. "Perry, we should move upstairs. There's a surgical waiting area up there." He looked at Tragg, asked, "Will you let us know who takes over the investigation?"
Tragg snorted. "That was all window dressing for the doctor. Headquarters will have to pry the case from my cold, dead fingers before I hand it off."
Perry blanched, and they all noticed.
"Sorry, Counselor," Tragg murmured, "Bad timing."
"Let's go, Perry," Paul said firmly, taking his friend by the arm.
Hamilton Burger trailed behind the pair, leaving the homicide detective to handle business with the ER staff. Together they took the elevator to the correct floor, found the waiting area, and settled in for what was sure to be a strenuous and very long night.
Della
Della had moved to L.A. to get away from home. After a failed engagement, much to the displeasure of her parents, she had definitely needed a change of scenery. Her Aunt Mae had been more than happy to offer her favorite niece a place to stay until she could get on her feet.
She had joined a legal secretarial pool, but the lack of excitement was soon wearing on her nerves. One of the few friends she had made at the office suggested she apply for the position of confidential secretary to a lawyer named Perry Mason, but not to get her hopes up. When Della asked why, her friend had confided that word around the water-cooler was that he was a very difficult man to work for.
Undaunted and undeterred, Della called his office and requested an interview for the following business day. She was told by a sour-sounding receptionist to come in at ten in the morning.
That night Della laid out her pink suit, one of the first splurges she made with her first paycheck. It was a soft shade of pink that reminded her of her favorite flower—peonies—with a sleek, straight skirt and matching jacket that fit her curves perfectly without being suggestive.
When she had tried it on in the store, she had paired it with a plain white shirtwaist. But the sales girl brought over a blush-colored silk blouse with long sleeves and a draped neckline that Della judged to be too low. Yet, once the jacket was on and the lines of the suit were smoothed, it looked perfect. So, at five minutes to ten the following morning, she was seated in the reception area of the office of Perry Mason, Attorney-At-Law. The very, very somber receptionist had introduced herself as Mrs. Grey (a fitting name, if ever there was one).
Della, never one to rest mentally, even if decorum dictated the need to do so physically, had taken the time to watch the inner workings of the office dynamic. Although she had, up until that point, yet to see the man whose name adorned the door, she was convinced that he was wild, undisciplined, and chaotic. At two minutes after the appointed time the intercom on Mrs. Grey's desk had sounded and a deep voice that resonated throughout the room and reverberated in Della's chest asked if his ten a.m. was there yet.
"Yes Sir. I'll send her right in," Mrs. Grey shed her gloomy shell and mustered up a bright smile of encouragement. Indicating a large wooden door, she advised, "Don't let the big, bad bear scare you."
Della's mouth curved up at the corners and her hazel eyes warmed. Rising, she smoothed her suit with gloved hands, adjusted her posture, and lifted her chin confidently. Then she knocked on the door.
A booming voice said, "Come in and close the door."
Wild, undisciplined, chaotic, and dictatorial, she decided as she took a deep breath and entered the office. She stood still for a minute as the man behind the desk rose and walked around to extend his hand. His height and physical appearance momentarily stunned her.
Big. Big, big man. Blue eyes. Deep-set, bluer-than-blue, intense eyes. Her estimation of him shifted with every second she stood in his presence.
"Good morning. You are Miss Street?" His voice matched the man.
She put her hand out and he enveloped it in his large one.
"Yes, Sir."
He gestured to a chair in front of his desk, "Please sit down and let's talk."
She slid gracefully onto the chair he indicated and slipped her resume on his desk, but he ignored it. She looked into his amazing blue eyes and felt her throat go dry. He was studying her and she felt a warmth, as though she recognized someone she knew and liked, spread through her body.
"So, how much do you know about this job?" His voice startled her and she realized she hadn't been paying attention.
She had done her homework and studied up on the man. She learned that he was one of the most respected lawyers in the state, worked almost exclusively on criminal cases, worked long hours and was no-nonsense when it came to his clients and employees.
She cleared her throat, twice, before stating, "I know you work long and hard for your clients, that you don't take no for an answer, and that your social life is splashed over the morning papers whenever you have a new flame."
That last statement slipped out unconsciously, but instead of blushing with the admission that she had read about his personal life, she merely tilted her head and arched an eyebrow. Her lips curved up teasingly, as though they shared a secret.
He didn't share her smile. Instead, his brows furrowed and his mouth turned down at the corners. For a moment she feared she had overstepped. He kept his eyes on her, just sitting there watching her silently for a moment.
Then still frowning, he said, "Miss Street, it is true that this job requires long hours and hard work. Most times, you'll be living on cold coffee and sandwiches, and if I have a client who requires my help, it is likely you will get a call at three in the morning to meet me at the jail. I—we—meet people on the absolute worst day of their lives. No matter who they are or what they've done, if I agree to represent them, they are the end-all and be-all of our existence until I have exhausted every possible avenue of justice for them."
Her eyes were bright with surprised delight and respect. Then he graced her with a smile that reflected his own personality.
"And my private, social life is none of anyone's business," he stated firmly, leaving little doubt he would tolerate any prying in that direction.
Well, that certainly told her, didn't it? Della rose, reaching across to retrieve her resume.
The ghost of a smile crossed his face. "Leaving?"
There were two ways to play this. Either she could slink out of his office with her tail between her legs, properly chastised, or she could . . . Della placed her hands flat on his desk and looked directly into those deep blue eyes.
"Mr. Mason, it's obvious I am not the secretary you want. But just for clarification, I love long hours, hard work and cold coffee. If I got a call at three to come to the jail, I wouldn't be thrilled, but I would be there, possibly in my rag curls." She took a deep breath, then finished, "and as for your social life, I could care less what you do or with whom you do it, as long as I'm allowed my own privacy and freedom. Now, I'm sure there are any number of secretaries in the pool who would be more than happy to work here. Thank you for your time."
She turned on her heel and with her head held high, walked to the door. Just as she turned the handle, she heard a deep, rumbling chuckle.
"Miss Street?"
She turned and watched a genuine smile cross his face, creating dimples that were so gorgeous she clutched the door knob for support as she held her breath.
He had risen to his feet, like a gentleman. His eyes, still a mesmerizing blue, were warm and filled with respect, admiration and something she couldn't quite define. "When can you start?"
She allowed herself a small smile in return, "Will the day after tomorrow be alright?"
He nodded. "I'll see you then, bright and early."
Lt. Tragg
Tragg conferred quietly with Hamilton Burger for a few minutes then adjusted his fedora, a sure signal he was agitated. "I'm going downstairs. It makes sense to post men at the entrance to keep the reporters at bay."
Burger only nodded. Tragg's method of handling a crisis was action. He needed to be doing something positive to keep his mind off the thought that Della might not make it. After he had taken care of posting a couple of his men with instructions that not one reporter was to get within fifty feet of the door, he decided he needed a cigarette. Walking over to a bench and lighting up, his thoughts drifted back to the first time he saw Della Street.
He had walked into Mason's office with his usual greeting, "I'll just announce myself, Mrs. G—" and suddenly stopped in his tracks.
Rising from her chair was the most stunningly beautiful woman he had ever seen. Even an old married man like him had to appreciate the grace with which she moved. Her pink suit was classy and fit to her body like a glove.
At that moment Perry opened his office door. "Ah, Lieutenant! I see introductions are in order. Miss Street, this is LAPD Homicide detective Lt. Arthur Tragg. He's one to always keep under scrutiny. Tragg, this is my new confidential secretary, Miss Della Street."
With that Della extended her delicate hand and offered him the most dazzling smile he could imagine.
"I'm very pleased to meet you, Lieutenant." She somehow managed to make his rank sound more like an intimate use of his first name than a title. Her voice matched her appearance: rich, layered, vibrant and deep.
Tragg couldn't seem to move until Perry cleared his throat. He finally stepped forward and took her hand.
"It's very nice to meet you, Miss Street." Tragg just continued to look into her beautiful hazel eyes, smiling like a smitten schoolboy.
Perry's undisguised laugh seemed to break the spell. "Della, would you mind coming in while we see what the lieutenant has to tell us?"
As Perry allowed Della to proceed him into the office, Tragg once again admired the grace with which she moved, wishing that he were 20 years younger, single, and bold. It was going to be interesting to see how this all played out.
As the months progressed, Della was a constant in the courtroom. Although he knew from years of working hand in hand with the district attorney's office that only persons who had passed the California Bar Exam were supposed to be permitted—well, past the bar—he was a rare exception. Paul Drake, in order to be fair to defense counsel, often sat on that side of the bar, too. But Della? Della was certainly the exception that defied the rule.
The first time she had taken a seat at the table with Perry Mason, Tragg had assumed the judge presiding over the case would reprimand the defense attorney. Instead, the judge had smiled warmly at her in greeting, waiting after everyone had retaken their seats in the gallery to make sure she had everything she needed to take notes. After that, seeing her in the courtroom was par for the course. None of the judges in the district ever raised the slightest objection. And when Burger won the election and assumed the office of District Attorney, he never objected, either.
Then came the late-night call. Mason had found yet another body.
When Tragg had arrived, he found several officers already there, and walked into the small bungalow. The body was lying in a pool of blood, but also quite a bit of other bodily fluids and gore. He was about to confront Perry when he noticed Della leaning against the kitchen door, looking so pale and faint that he immediately crossed the room to her, taking her hands in his.
"Miss Street, let me have one of my officers take you outside. You look like you could use some air."
She nodded weakly and accepted the arm of the officer Tragg summoned over. "Take her to my car and stay with her." Then he rounded on Perry with a growl. "Mason, you complete ass! What the hell were you thinking bringing Della here! First of all, this is a damn crime scene. Then to subject that lady to the sight of this. I thought you were a gentleman!"
With that he turned and strode from the room out into the night. He found Della leaning against his car, her head in her hands. He stepped up to her.
"Miss Street? Miss Street?" No response. Finally putting his hand on her arm, he said gently, "Della?"
She looked up at him with a vacant expression.
"Della, are you alright?"
She nodded slowly. "I guess...I guess I just wasn't expecting…"
He gently rubbed her arm. "I understand. Mason was a fool for allowing you in there."
She smiled weakly and suddenly put her head on his shoulder and sobbed. He gently patted her back.
"Come on now, Della. It's alright. How about if I have my sergeant take you home?"
She smiled again, wiping at the tears with the handkerchief Tragg handed her. "I think I should stay until Mr. Mason is ready to…"
"I'll take care of Mason!" His words came out quite a bit angrier than he intended.
She nodded slowly and finally granted him one of her dazzling smiles. She took his hand and squeezed, "This means a lot to me. Thank you, Lieutenant."
"Arthur," he said, and she nodded her consent.
"Arthur."
He called his man over and instructed him to take her home and escort her to her door. As Tragg watched the car pull away, he made a promise that he would protect this woman as if she were his own daughter. He then turned and walked back into the crime scene.
Hamilton Burger
Shortly after Tragg left the room, a nurse came into the waiting room with a tray holding a large coffee pot and 4 cups, sugar and cream. Hamilton got up and filled a cup, passing it to Perry.
"Here, you need this."
Perry took the cup automatically and just stared at it. Paul looked at Hamilton and just shook his head. Hamilton poured another cup and handed it to Paul, then one for himself and sat back on the couch. He wondered how this odd assortment of men had come to be in this room together. The police lieutenant, the District Attorney, the lawyer and the detective.
The common denominator was simple—Della Street. The woman he had secretly fantasized about since the day she had walked into his office with a document from Perry Mason for him to sign.
His secretary had buzzed him. "Mr. Burger, there's a Miss Street here from Mr. Mason's office."
Hamilton wondered what Perry Mason's confidential secretary could possibly be doing here.
"Okay, Gertie, send her in."
A few seconds later his office door opened and in walked a striking woman in a tailored pink suit that hugged her curves and accentuated her natural beauty.
His eyes widened in surprised delight and his stern, resting expression faded into a genuine smile. Every ounce of blood not used to move oxygen from here to there roared to his groin. Hamilton rose with dignity (and a profound hope she hadn't noticed anything untoward) and extended his hand to her.
"Good afternoon, Miss Street. To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?"
She took his hand and sat gracefully in the chair in front of his desk.
"Mr. Mason needed an immediate signature on this deposition and thought it would be easier if I had you sign it and take it back."
His smile was very genuine, "Just let me take a look and then we'll get you back to your work. May I offer you some coffee while you wait?"
Della smiled back. "Thank you, no. I've reached my limit for today. Too much and I get jittery and can't concentrate. "
Her ease of conversation appealed to him. She wasn't in the least cowed by him or his office.
"Okay I'll make this as quick as I can."
With that he started reading the document, but seeing Della look around his office, he studied her over the top of the paper.
Her hair was a deep chestnut, with soft curls framing her face. The makeup she chose was subtle but accentuated her classic looks. She was alive with interest, but not pushy or aggressive. Class. That was the word for her. All in all, one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. And Hamilton had been with his fair share.
When he saw her take a quick peek at her watch, he realized he hadn't read one word. Finally, and with some professional regret, he only scanned the document. After making sure that all was in order, he took his pen and signed.
"There you are, Miss Street, all signed."
She stood and he got his first closeup look at her legs. They were perfection. As a leg man from puberty, he was something of an expert. He reluctantly passed the document to her.
"Thank you, Mr. Burger. I know Mr. Mason appreciates this. I'll be getting back now."
With that she walked out of his office, but there was a lingering scent that he couldn't quite place that filled his senses. He couldn't identify it beyond knowing that it defined the woman who had just left. He decided Perry Mason was one lucky SOB.
The next time he would see her outside of the courtroom was at the annual Bar Association Dinner. He had been talking to several of his friends when the conversation suddenly ceased and everyone turned toward the door. Perry Mason had just entered the room, but it wasn't he who had caused a hush to fall.
It was the stunning woman on his arm. Della Street stood still, taking in her surroundings, wearing a midnight blue satin gown with her hair swept back from her face, a simple strand of pearls at her throat, and the refined dignity of a woman who was born with breeding and manners, if not money. Every male eye in the room was riveted on her. Most of the female eyes, as well.
"WOW! Who is that and how do I meet her?" The comment had come from one of the young assistants.
Hamilton turned with a glare at the man. "That, sir, is none of your business," and he walked away to find his table.
After all the speeches, dinner and toasts, the band set up and the dancing started. Hamilton figured it couldn't hurt to ask, so he made his way over to Perry's table and approached Della.
She looked up at him with a dazzling smile and questioning look. "Hello, Mr. Burger."
"Good evening, Miss Street. I was wondering if you would like to dance?"
"Of course, Mr. Burger, but only if you call me Della."
"Della," he said softly, testing her name on his tongue. Della Burger. It sounded wonderful. "And I'm Hamilton."
She placed her hand in his outstretched one and rose with a grace most dancers would envy. Perry Mason had risen, too, and had smiled reassuringly at her. She had quickly pressed her fingers on his arm, then dropped her hand and turned all her attention on the district attorney.
A few seconds later Hamilton had this glorious woman in his arms, gliding around the dance floor. She was a delight to dance with and at one point threw back her head and laughed with all the charm of a true lady.
He couldn't believe this beautiful woman found something he said amusing. When the song ended altogether too soon and he led her back to the table Hamilton Burger knew he was completely in love with Miss Della Street.
Paul Drake
Paul got up and poured another cup of coffee. It had already been three hours, but it seemed more like thirty. Every time the doors from surgery opened, they all jumped. Tragg and Burger talked in hushed tones, but it didn't matter. He didn't care what they said. Perry just sat, stone-faced and twisting an empty coffee cup in his hands. When Paul offered to refill it, he slowly shook his head. So, Paul laid a hand on his shoulder and sat down again, hoping the next person through the doors would be the doctor.
He couldn't imagine what he would do if the worst should happen, and his 'Beautiful' Della was no longer in their lives—in his life. He thought back to the day he first met this incredible woman.
He had knocked on Perry's door with his traditional code and stepped into the office with a typical, jocular greeting, "Hey, Perry, have I got some…" and had stopped cold in his tracks.
There was a woman in Perry's office, but oh, what a woman. And Paul Drake knew women. This one was standing by the small conference table with her back to the balcony windows. The sun was streaming through, causing her to be illuminated almost like an angel.
Her pink suit fit her curves to a T. Her deep chestnut hair framed delicate features. She was in the process of setting a tray of coffee on the table when she looked up and suddenly offered him the most amazing smile he could imagine.
"Paul, do you have something to tell me?"
"Huh?" Paul seemed to have lost the power to form a coherent thought.
Perry laughed and turned to Della. "Della, will you please come over here so Mr. Drake can regain his power of speech."
Della crossed the room on long sleek legs and extended her hand to the handsome silver-haired man. "I'm Della Street, Mr. Mason's new secretary. And you can only be Paul Drake, Private Investigator extraordinaire! It's very nice to finally meet you."
Paul couldn't move or speak or think. Perry's loud clearing of his throat brought Paul back to his senses. He took her proffered hand and looked down at it. Then sweeping his eyes back to her face, he grinned.
"Well, hello, Beautiful!"
Della's soft laugh sent shivers through him.
Perry growled, "Alright Paul! Get your coffee and let my secretary get back to work."
From that day on, Paul's greeting whenever he saw her was 'Hello, Beautiful.' But no matter how hard he tried, she was the one woman who was immune to his charms. They shared dinners, an occasional dance and even a few secrets but that was all. As far as he knew there was no man in her life. Of course, with the crazy hours and work schedule Perry kept, Paul didn't see much chance of her having a social life. He often wondered if there was something between her and her boss, but if she was willing, Perry was totally oblivious. And he knew that Della was too much a lady to even consider an office fling. But one thing was certain, if Della ever decided she wanted a man in her life, Paul was going to try and be that man because he had to admit….after all the women in his life, he was in love with Della Street.
Perry Mason
Perry could only stare at the empty cup in his hands. He vaguely heard the voices of the other three men, the noises of the hospital, but he just couldn't seem to care. How had this terrible series of events happened? How was it that Della was the one lying in a hospital, fighting for her life?
He couldn't even muster the energy to wonder about the woman who fired the gun, to wonder if she had been taken into custody. What did a stranger matter when Della was . . . What was he going to do if she didn't make it? She was the only one who could keep his life in order. An order she had restored the moment she walked into his office.
His receptionist, Mrs. Grey, had informed him a week ago she was retiring. Which meant he had the arduous task of finding a new secretary. He had no idea how to go about it.
He couldn't imagine anyone wanting to take on the task, considering his hectic life, ridiculous schedule and worst, his sometimes volatile temper. He had told Mrs. Grey to start screening applicants—she knew better than anyone what he required.
Finally, a friend of her daughter's had suggested a woman she worked with in a local law secretarial pool. When the young woman had arrived for her appointment, somehow Mrs. Grey just knew this was the one.
When Perry buzzed her, she sent the woman in with a smile, "Don't let the big, bad bear scare you."
Perry looked up as the door opened. The woman standing there was spectacularly beautiful. The pink suit she wore was perfectly tailored to suit her figure, showing her curves, but with class. Soft chestnut curls framed her face, and her hazel eyes were serious but he would bet his next case they could be filled with passion given the right circumstances.
He stood and took her hand and offered her a seat. When he asked her what she knew about the job her answer touched a nerve when she spoke about his social life. Okay, he thought, time to see what she's made of. He turned on his courtroom voice and demeanor and told her what he expected of her. When she stood up to leave, he figured she would never do. But when she leaned on his desk and gave him a piece of her lovely mind he knew, this was the woman for him. From that moment on she brought order out of the chaos of his life.
The late dinners, the middle of the night client meetings, the early morning calls. Nothing seemed to phase her. But he did try to treat her to some special times also. The Bar Association Dinner had been an eye-opener for him. When he had entered the room with that beautiful woman on his arm and watched every man in the room hold his breath, he knew he was the luckiest man there. He also knew when Burger took her in his arms that the illustrious D.A. was in love. And his buddy Paul wasn't exactly subtle in his advances either.
Della, however, seemed immune to their attention, preferring to keep them at more than arms' length. But what about his feelings? He knew he admired her strength, her quick mind, and her ability to take a lot of the pressure off him on difficult days. He enjoyed their dinners, enjoyed holding her in his arms to dance, but was that all? Was it? Of course, it wasn't.
Aftermath
The doors swung open and the doctor entered the waiting room. All four men were immediately on their feet.
"Mr. Mason?"
Perry rose, and was immediately surrounded by the other three. The doctor smiled grimly.
"Gentlemen," he abridged, "she's out of surgery. It was touch and go, but I am confident she will make a full recovery in time. She will need plenty of rest." He saw four of the most prominent men in the city heave a joint sigh of relief.
"The bullet nicked the heart, and she lost a great deal of blood. She will be very weak for quite a while. I will have complete instructions for her aftercare. We will be keeping her here for a minimum of a week."
He searched each face. The silver-haired private detective looked relieved, as though the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. The older police officer beamed and was trying to keep tears from forming. The tall, thin man with the curly hair seemed joyful and upbeat. But Perry Mason . . . The man looked grave, concerned, worried, desperate, cautiously optimistic, and emptied out. Still, a trace of a smile was there.
It was the smiles from each of them that showed the doctor just how truly loved this woman was.
Perry controlled his voice and asked, "When can I see her?"
Controlled though it was, the tremble in his voice and the tears in his eyes were not lost on his companions.
"She's in recovery right now. She will be moved to a bed in the ICU shortly. Mr. Mason, if you give me a moment, you can come with me. The rest of you can make your way to the ICU. The floor nurse there will let you know when you can see her."
Perry took the doctor's hand and shook it firmly. "Thank you, doctor, from all of us".
The doctor just nodded. He hoped the beautiful woman knew how much she was loved.
Burger and Tragg said they would be back later to visit when Della was up to it.
They left to follow up on what had happened after they had left the courthouse.
Once outside, Burger turned to Tragg and smiled, "I think our illustrious Mr. Perry Mason has finally been brought to his knees . . . by that beautiful woman."
Tragg gave a hearty laugh, "That, Mr. Burger, is a fact no jury would dispute. How about we find someplace for a good stiff drink? My treat."
Burger dropped his arm around the older man's shoulder, "Arthur, that's the best idea you've had all night."
Back in the waiting room, Perry sank into a chair, dropping his head into his hands.
Paul looked over at his best friend, "Are you okay?"
The slight nod was the only indication that Perry heard him. "I will be, I just need to see her."
Paul smiled to himself. Well, maybe now the guy will finally admit how he feels about this woman. Shame it took this to make him see.
He just put his hand on Perry's shoulder. "I'll wait with you."
Again, Perry just nodded. A little while later, the doctor returned and motioned for him to follow. "She's not awake yet. You can see her. But just for a minute. Then you'll have to wait until she is in the ICU."
"I understand," he said, then glanced at Paul.
Paul stood up and looked at Perry, "Do you want me to wait?"
Perry finally smiled, "No you go on and get some rest. I'll give you a call later."
As Perry walked away behind the doctor, Paul had a big smile on his face.
At Last
The doctor stopped him just outside the door to the room. "I need you to be prepared. Right now she is hooked up to IVs and monitors, so it will be a shock. You need to be calm in case she becomes agitated."
Perry nodded. When the door opened and Perry stepped in, he had to hang on to the doorframe. She looked so small and frail, almost as white as the sheets upon which she laid. Her hair was tangled from the surgical cap.
The nurse came in with a large chair that she placed beside the bed. "If you need something, just let me know. I'll be in several times to check on Miss Street."
Perry nodded his thanks and sank into the chair. He tentatively reached out and laid his hand over hers.
"Della, can you hear me? You sure know how to get attention, don't you? Paul and Burger and Tragg say they will come see you when you wake up. They stayed here until the doctor said you would be okay. They really care about you." He choked up, then composed himself. "I'm afraid I have some bad news though. Your favorite suit is sort of ruined. But I imagine you can find another or…"
He suddenly dropped his arms and head onto the bed. "Oh God, Baby! I thought I was going to lose you. I just realized—that's not true—I just admitted to myself that I can't live without you. But you knew that, didn't you? I just realized I….I love you. Della, I love you. You have to come back to me. Please, Baby. You have to come back to me."
She was moved without any incident to a room on the ICU ward. Perry spent the rest of the night in the same position, gently rubbing her hand and saying anything he could think of, hoping she could hear him. At some point he fell asleep, his head on the bed next to her hand.
Della felt like she was coming out of a long, horrible dream. She remembered hugging Lenore and some shouts. Then a pain that she couldn't identify.
She became aware that someone was holding her hand. She pried her eyes open and saw a dark head next to her hand and realized that it must be Perry. No one had dark wavy hair like his. He had his hand over hers. She gently removed her hand and laid it on his head, stroking his hair.
His head immediately popped up. "Della?"
She tried to speak but no words came out. "Hang on Baby, I'll get the nurse."
Before he left he kissed her hand. "Don't go anywhere. I'll be right back." Then he flashed that radiant smile that showed her his dimples.
Later that afternoon, with most of the machines removed, Della was able to voice a few words. Perry had explained everything that had happened from the moment they had walked out of the courtroom until she woke.
She had one more question that she was hesitant to voice. In her groggy state, she had heard a voice saying he loved her. She couldn't make out if that was the medicine, her fractured dreams, or a twilight reality. But she trusted him to tell her the truth. She looked over at him standing so quietly while the nurse took her vitals once again.
When the nurse finally left, she motioned him to the chair beside her bed. "Perry?" she croaked, "Ah, I need to ask a question."
Perry grimaced but nodded. "Okay."
"I know that you stayed with me and I'm so grateful to you for that." She saw the hesitant look on his face before he answered.
"Della, where would I go? I wouldn't be anywhere else." He took her hand again and without looking at her, raised it to his lips.
She trembled and tried to draw her hand away, but he held fast.
"So, what's your question?"
She took as deep a breath as she could, plunged, "When I was sleeping were you talking to me?"
He had the good sense to look at the floor. "Yes."
"Did you say that you . . ." Della's face flushed.
Perry stopped her with a finger to her lips. His eyes were a strange combination of various shades of blue, green and gray. Mesmerizing. Then he nodded.
"Yes, Sweetheart, I said I loved you. And now that you are awake, I will say it again. I love you, Della Street. I'm just sorry it took me so damn long to say what I've known since the day you walked into my office."
He saw the tears start to fall from her beautiful hazel eyes. He stopped and brushed them away. "Please don't cry, Baby. I didn't mean to make you cry. The nurse will kick me out! She's a mean, mean woman."
She shook her head and smiled up at him, "Oh Perry, these are happy tears. I have been in love with you forever. I just didn't want to be the stereotypical secretary who falls in love with her boss."
He threw back his head and laughed. "My Darling, you could never be that." He leaned over and gently pressed a kiss to her lips. "Now, my love, you need to rest. The doctor gave me detailed instructions about your care once you are out of the hospital. And you, young lady, will follow it to the letter. Then I will take you away and we will explore this new relationship more thoroughly." The twinkle in his eyes made her blush a bright crimson. "Now close your eyes and sleep."
"Will you be here when I wake up?" The slight tinge of fear in her voice caused Perry to shudder.
He kissed her hand, "I'm not leaving your side. Now, sleep."
She closed her eyes and he saw the sweet smile on her lips.
When she woke up the next time, his head was on the bed next to her and lying in her lap was one perfect red rose with a small card, which read, "I love you."