"He may be a genius criminal defense attorney, but if you ask me, that man is a fool," the old Lieutenant said to his companions before taking another small swallow of scotch. "If he had a grain of sense, he would have married that pretty secretary of his a long time ago."
"This might be one of those rare times when I agree with you, Tragg," Paul Drake said. He glanced around at the odd assortment of men at the table at Clay's Bar and Grill. Hamilton Burger, Lieutenant Tragg, and Judge Treadwell were all sitting with him at the same booth. They had all drifted into the restaurant after a long day in court. Notably absent were Perry and Della. They had returned to the office straightaway to finish a brief. As a result, the company present was able to speak freely about certain matters which usually were not openly discussed.
"Sometimes," Judge Treadwell said, in the tone of one confessing, "when there are lulls during a hearing, I find myself watching the two of them. The way she looks at him would melt a heart of stone. As for him, he even cross-examines witnesses more passionately when she is in the courtroom. Whether or not he knows it, he wants to impress that girl."
"He's already got her plenty impressed," Lieutenant Tragg muttered. "I've seen them together enough to know. Some of the things that that young woman has done for him and his clients defies reason. I have no doubt that Della Street would step in between Perry and a speeding bullet without an instant's hesitation."
"There is no question in my mind that he is in love with her too," Paul Drake admitted. "I'll never forget the look on his face when Della phoned to tell him that a mysterious man had forced his way into the office to leave a piece of evidence and had grabbed her head from behind to prevent her from seeing him. Perry hit the roof. He asked her about twelve times in the span of three minutes whether she was alright. He made me pull three of my operatives from their jobs to go to the office and guard Della until we got there. Then he made her spend the next week with her aunt to make sure that she would not be alone in her apartment, until the intruder was caught."
"So the problem is that he cannot get his head out of his law books long enough to propose to her," Hamilton Burger rejoined sarcastically. "Just like most men, he figures that he's going nowhere and that she's going nowhere, and therefore he has all the time in the world to get around to disclosing his feelings. And Della Street is a lady, and it is clear that one thing she won't do is to throw herself at him. Not unless he makes the first move."
"Thousands of women have been lost that way," Tragg huffed. "Eventually the lady gets tired of waiting, and when a more sensible man with serious intentions comes around, it does not take much for her to transfer her loyalties. And then the reticent lover grows old alone, bitterly regretting his mistake."
"Can't you do something about it, Paul?" Judge Treadwell asked the private detective as he sipped his coffee. "You're his best friend, after all. Can't you give him a hint or two?"
"I've done more than just giving him a small hint. I've tried to make him jealous for years! I call Della 'Beautiful' more than I call her by her name."
"He must have seen through your act and known that you weren't serious about her," Tragg rumbled.
"Probably. He knows me far too well."
"Hamilton, what is it?" Judge Treadwell asked, noticing that the District Attorney was suddenly wearing a very sly, broad smile on his face.
"I believe that I might have a way of forcing Mr. Mason's hand on the issue," that man said slowly, with a chuckle.
"Forgive me for mentioning this during such a social occasion," Paul Drake said dryly, "but your record of getting the best of Perry is…hardly impressive."
The District Attorney waved his hand dismissively, barely offended or concerned about the remark.
"Ah, but this time, we will be in an arena much less familiar to the esteemed Mr. Mason. He is an expert on murder trials, not on professing his love to women. Besides, if you all agree to my little plot, this time I would have the insurmountable advantage of having both Paul Drake and the Judge on my side."
The men glanced at each other, and then fastened their eyes upon the District Attorney.
"Alright, Burger, let's hear your idea," Paul said.
…..
A week later, there was a sharp knock upon Perry's office door.
"Come in!" the attorney called.
The door opened to admit Lieutenant Tragg.
"Good morning, Perry, Della," he said with a small smile.
"Well, what brings you here so early, Lieutenant?" the lawyer asked.
"Business, Mr. Mason." The elderly police officer reached into his pocket and produced two pieces of folded paper. "A friend of mine downtown asked me to deliver these to you and Ms. Street."
"Subpoenas?" the secretary asked in disbelief as she unfolded the document.
"For the civil court case of 'Jerry Warner versus the People of California'?" Perry read. Glancing up, he looked at Arthur Tragg with confusion. "Lieutenant, we have never heard of a Jerry Warner, or anything else about this case!"
"It's not necessary for you to have heard anything, Counselor. Your only responsibility is to show up and tell the truth. I'll show myself out. Good day." With that, he walked out of the office.
Brow furrowed, Perry turned the piece of paper over and over again in his hands. At last, he looked over at his secretary and said,
"Get a hold of Paul Drake. Tell him to dig up anything he can about this court case."
….
"So, in effect, you are saying that you got nothing?" Perry incredulously asked the private detective later that afternoon.
"Sorry, Perry. All my contacts claimed never to have heard about this case before. Burger must really be keeping his cards close to his chest on this one."
"How is it that your contacts will give you classified information on high profile murder cases, but can't give you the barest details on a civil lawsuit?"
The detective shrugged, careful to keep his face expressionless and his amusement to himself.
"They just said they did not know anything about it." He purposely neglected to mention that, unlike his sources, he, Paul Drake, knew plenty about the case.
Perry frowned, obviously displeased, but said nothing further to his friend.
…
The next morning, Perry Mason and Della Street walked arm-in-arm through the doors of the courtroom. On the doors, large signs were plastered: 'Closed Hearing'.
Taking their places in the spectator's seats, the lawyer and his secretary observed that the room was very bare. Besides themselves, only Judge Treadwell, Hamilton Burger, Lieutenant Tragg, Paul Drake, the court clerk, court reporter, bailiff, defendant, and his attorney were present.
The hearing began. As far as Perry could gather, it was a very, very frivolous lawsuit. The prosecution claimed that four days ago, on the evening of July 8th, the defendant, Jerry Warner, had crashed his vehicle into a fence along the highway, and that the fence had been located on public property. Therefore, Hamilton Burger claimed, Mr. Wagner owned the State of California money for the damages.
Even more curiously, according to the counsel for the defense, Jerry Warner did not deny driving his car into a fence on the evening in question. However, he maintained that he was unfamiliar with the area in which his car had crashed, and that it had already been dark when the accident occurred. He had left the scene directly after extricating his car, and had managed to make his way to a restaurant where he had called a friend to let him know that he had had an accident and that he would be late for their appointment. When he had returned to the area the following day, he found that the vast majority of the fence was in terrible disrepair, and therefore could not definitively identify the place where his car had crashed. Therefore, he did not know whether the property he had damaged had been public or private, as he had later been informed that the fence in question stood on both types of land along that roadway. Therefore, his lawyer argued, the burden of proving that the damaged fence had indeed been the property of the State of California rested with the prosecution. His client would not pay his fine until the State showed that it was indeed entitled to those funds.
Perry felt Della's questioning gaze upon him several times in the course of the hour that they sat in the courtroom. He occasionally looked at her and shrugged his shoulders. He, too, was at a loss for why they were there. He kept listening to the proceedings, trying to find an undercurrent of something else. But instead, the lawsuit seemed to be getting more ridiculous all the time. Perry had no explanation for why the District Attorney was wasting his precious time prosecuting a case which, at best, would only bring the State of California a couple hundred dollars. To say nothing of the fact that, if the fence had indeed been badly damaged to begin with, it was probably worth much less than that!
Despite this, Hamilton Burger was in rare form. He seemed to be arguing more passionately and with more smoothness than usual. He brought in an expert to testify that paint scrapings consistent with the paint on the defendant's car had been found on public property.
After the expert had been excused, the District Attorney said,
"Your Honor, the State will now attempt to establish the exact movements of Mr. Jerry Warner after the accident took place, to prove that he had to have crashed into public land. If you remember, the defendant admitted that he went into a restaurant called 'Magdalena's Italian Bistro' to make a phone call within ten minutes of the accident. There are only two restaurants bearing that name in Los Angeles County, and one of them is very close to the public land in which we believe that the defendant defaced. The defendant, however, claims that he does not know which of the two he visited the evening in question. However, we have subpoenaed witnesses who will be able to testify as to his presence or absence that evening at one of the Bistros."
Perry's shoulders relaxed. So there it was. Della and he had had dinner at a Magdalena's Italian Bistro four days ago. Hamilton Burger probably just wanted to ask a few straightforward questions regarding that. Unfortunately for the District Attorney, Perry did not think that he would have much to tell him.
"The State calls Mr. Perry Mason," Hamilton Burger called out.
"Will Mr. Mason please take the stand?" Judge Treadwell benevolently requested, making sure to keep his expression neutral. He had never wanted to laugh as much as he did in that moment.
Perry got up and walked to the witness stand. Right before it, the court clerk met him.
"Raise your right hand," the clerk said. Perry did so. "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"
"I do."
"Take the witness stand, please," the clerk said. Perry ascended the step and sat down.
"Mr. Mason," Hamilton Burger said, approaching the stand, "could you please tell the court where you were the evening of July 8th, of this year?"
"I was returning to Los Angeles from a meeting with a client in Malibu."
"And did you stop anywhere along the way?"
"Yes, at Magdalena's Italian Bistro, for dinner."
"Would you happen to know what area or town the restaurant you were at was located in?"
"Yes, in Beverley Hills," Perry replied. Hamilton Burger gave a satisfied nod, and paced away from the witness stand, back towards his own table.
"Are you quite certain of that?"
"Yes. I have been there many times before."
"I see. And while you were at this restaurant, where were you seated?"
"Very near the door, and about ten feet directly across from the bar."
"So, in theory, if anyone entered the restaurant and walked up to the bar and asked to use the telephone, as Mr. Jerry Warner claims he did, you would have easily observed them."
"Yes, I believe I would have. Indeed, the restaurant is so small that the door is easily observed, no matter where one is sitting."
"And did you see the defendant in the restaurant that evening, Mr. Mason?"
"No, I did not."
Hamilton Burger suddenly spun around and stared at the witness.
"NO?" he cried out.
"No," Perry reaffirmed. He swallowed his chuckle. It appeared that he had just managed to upset another court case for Burger, and he had not even been trying to do so.
The District Attorney paused, and then, taking a deep breath, posed another question.
"Let's back up for just a moment. Mr. Mason, were you dining alone in the restaurant that evening?"
"No, I was not."
"Who was with you?"
"My secretary, Miss Della Street."
Hamilton Burger began to walk back towards the witness stand very deliberately.
"Is it possible, Mr. Mason, that your conversation with Ms. Della Street could have distracted you from noticing the presence of the defendant in the Bistro the evening in question?"
"No, I do not believe so. As I said, we were sitting very near the door."
Rather than dropping the matter and asking him to step down, as Perry Mason had expected him to do, the District Attorney leaned heavily against the witness stand and said in a very serious voice,
"Mr. Mason, what is the nature of your relationship with Ms. Della Street?"
"As I have already stated, she is my secretary," Perry answered, starting to get a bit irked at the repetitive nature of the questions.
"Is that all she is to you?"
The witness gave the prosecutor a bewildered look.
"I do not believe that I understand the question," he said, very slowly, as if he hated to admit his confusion to his nemesis.
"Would you, for instance, consider Ms. Della Street a friend, as well as your secretary?"
"OBJECTION!"
Both men turned towards the voice which had sharply interrupted their dialogue. Jerry Warner's defense attorney was on his feet, looking furious.
"Your Honor, this line of questioning is incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial to the issue at hand!"
"Your Honor," Mr. Burger raised his voice as he hastily approached the bench. "My line of questioning has everything to do with the issue at hand! I am trying to show the state of the witness's mind that evening! It is critical that the prosecution be able to determine whether or not Mr. Mason's ability to observe his surroundings that evening was in any way compromised."
"Objection overruled," Judge Treadwell said decisively. "The witness will answer the question."
"I repeat, Mr. Mason, would you consider Ms. Della Street a friend of yours?" Hamilton Burger asked, retracing his steps toward the stand.
"Yes, I would."
"Would you consider her a very good friend?" the District Attorney pressed.
Perry glared at him. Hamilton Burger was taking this too far! Why could he not just accept the fact that they had seen nothing, and let him, and more importantly, Della, be?
"Ms. Street is a very loyal, honest, and good friend of mine, yes," he replied carefully.
Hamilton Burger put both his hands upon the witness stand, and, leaning heavily against it, towards Perry, asked pointedly:
"Mr. Mason, are you in love with Ms. Della Street?"
Perry's mouth dropped open from shock. He noticed that Della, sitting in the audience, had suddenly acquired cheeks the color of strawberries. He locked eyes with Hamilton Burger, silently demanding that he withdraw the question. When the District Attorney did not, Perry Mason turned towards the judge, giving him a pleading look. And Judge Treadwell did intervene, but not in the way that the witness had hoped.
"Mr. Mason, you must answer the question, or else be held in contempt of court."
Heart pounding, Perry Mason mentally ran through all the statues, laws, and precedents which he knew, looking for one which could bail him out of this most uncomfortable situation. Unfortunately, his search was in vain. He was faced with a most difficult choice: perjure himself on the stand, and thus betray every value that he, as a human being and lawyer held dear, or tell the truth and risk…so many things.
There was no help for it. Hamilton Burger, and his own oath to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, had him cornered. There was no way out of this.
Looking past the District Attorney, Perry Mason gazed directly at his secretary as he said,
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am very much in love with Ms. Della Street."
Even from a distance, he could see that tears sprang into Della's eyes at this answer, and she covered her mouth with a shaking hand.
Judge Treadwell suddenly murmured,
"It's about time for the noon recess. Mr. Burger, you will have to postpone the rest of your examination of this witness until after lunch. Court adjourned until two o'clock." With that, he banged his gravel.
In extremely rapid succession, everyone cleared out of the courtroom. The only people who did not move were Perry and Della, who sat like statues in their respective seats, staring at each other.
At last, when they were completely alone in the deserted courtroom, Perry leaned forward and said,
"Della, I am so sorry…I never meant for you to find out about my feelings in such a public way!"
"That is not your fault," the lady replied, her voice trembling.
"Believe me, I never would have embarrassed you like this under any other circumstances!"
"Are you saying that you are sorry that your feelings for me were revealed at all?" Della asked, a tad bitterly. "That you never meant to tell me about them?"
Her employer vehemently shook his head.
"No! I…I was waiting for the right time, but…one day, I hoped to tell you everything. In a more private venue, I might add. But," Perry finally rose and, descending from the witness stand, began to walk towards Della, "since it did come out today, I might as well get straightaway to the point. My darling, I love you. I have been smitten with you ever since you walked into my office almost four years ago, and since then, my respect and love for you has grown each day. I don't ever want to face the possibility of a future without you. Will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?"
"I thought you would never ask!" Della cried out with joy. Standing up, she ran into Perry's outstretched arms. In the empty courtroom, they embraced for a long moment before Perry finally pressed a kiss upon her rosy lips.
…..
After half-an-hour of quiet conversation and several more kisses, Della's intended wrapped his arm around her and asked,
"Will you allow me to take you out to lunch, and then shopping for a diamond ring?"
"I might be persuaded," the lady said, fluttering her eyelashes at him before pecking him on the cheek.
They walked through the courtroom's double doors only to be startled by thunderous applause.
"What?!" a shocked Della cried out, as a startled Perry quickly removed his arm from her shoulders.
"We just decided to stay around and congratulate you on your new engagement," Judge Treadwell said, amused.
"Were you watching us through the barely-opened courtroom doors?" Perry Mason demanded.
"We plead guilty…but, Counselor, a courtroom is by definition a public place, and after all the trouble we went through, it was only fair that we enjoyed the fruits of our labor!"
"What trouble-," Perry began. A light of realization suddenly dawned in his blue eyes. "Do you mean that that entire performance in there was a set-up?!"
"Yes, and for once I finally got the best of you!" Hamilton Burger gloated triumphantly.
Della stared at her fiancé and the District Attorney by turns.
"I'm afraid I'm lost," she said. "Would one of you gentlemen care to explain?"
"I think I will let Mr. Burger have that honor," Perry Mason replied, with an amused shake of his head.
The District Attorney was only too happy to oblige.
"Last week, as we gathered in Clay's after court, we decided that there was a very high probability that there was more between you and Ms. Street than a pile of briefs and a weekly paycheck, and that if we were right, it was high time that you two acknowledged it. I knew that there was one way to ensure that you would tell the truth regarding your feelings, and that was to have you under oath. Therefore, we started to build a court case so that I could examine you on the witness stand."
"And you all felt that that was a good use of the justice system's resources?" Perry asked, a bit sarcastically and angrily.
"We all donated our time, including Judge Treadwell, and made sure to create a case where no significant harm was done, and one in which everyone could tell the truth in their depositions and in court without compromising my plan; I and the defense attorney, however, agreed to avoid asking certain questions in court so that it would not come out that the whole thing had been deliberately planned. The defendant, Jerry Warner, is an old college friend of mine from Chicago who was visiting Los Angeles for the first time, and was only too happy to be part of our plot. We had the Paul Drake Detective Agency watch your every move for the last several days, knowing that it was only a matter of time until you and Ms. Street found your way to Magdalena's Italian Bistro for dinner, since you go there frequently. As soon as we got the call that you were at the restaurant, I took Jerry to a stretch of road about a mile away from the other Magdalena's Italian Bistro. I gave him a beat-up car that we had gotten for a few dollars from a junk yard and told him to drive it, at low speed, off the road and into whatever section of fence that he fancied, before making his way to the restaurant."
"You told him to destroy property?" Della cried, aghast.
"My dear Ms. Street, you will kindly recall the testimony about that old fence being decrepit. The county already had plans to demolish and replace it. The workmen actually started taking it down yesterday. As far as the government was concerned, that fence was the equivalent of trash. And, Jerry barely scratched it."
"I also seem to remember that some of that fence was located on private property. What if Mr. Warner had decided to crash into a section of the fence that was not owned by Los Angeles County?"
"Then the owner would have sued him for damages and a very similar court case would have occurred, for I am the only individual who owns land along that stretch of road," Hamilton Burger chuckled. "For once, I took a page out of Perry Mason's playbook!"
"And so, your friend, who was wholly unfamiliar with the area, could later honestly testify that he neither knew whether he had damaged public or private property, or which Magdalena's Italian Bistro he had gone into to make his phone call," Perry concluded. "Let me guess…he made that phone call to one of you?"
"To me," Paul Drake admitted. "We had an appointment to go out for drinks with Burger."
A small laugh escaped Della.
"At least you had the decency to make it a closed hearing," Perry grumbled.
"We were trying to spare your dignity in case you got rejected, by keeping the public and reporters out," Judge Treadwell said with a smile.
"I suppose I should thank you all…for that…and for helping make this the happiest day of my life," Perry Mason said, humbly and feelingly. He reached for Della's hand and took it tenderly in his own. She gazed at her new fiancé with a loving smile.
"I know that I certainly am grateful that we have friends who were good enough to go to all this for us!" she said.
"If you can bear our company a little longer," Lieutenant Tragg put in, "we have a reservation for all of us at the new French restaurant downtown for lunch. Can you lovebirds be persuaded to join us?"
"Yes, I think so," Perry said with a smile. "But we will have to hurry. Doesn't court reconvene at two o'clock?"
"Yes, but we won't be needing either you or Della as witnesses this afternoon. You see, at precisely 2:01pm, the prosecution will inform Judge Treadwell that it has decided to drop all charges against Jerry Warner. You will be free to spend the rest of the day in the most upscale jewelry shops in Los Angeles," Mr. Burger informed them.
"For once," the criminal defense attorney replied, "I have to admit that you set up a case perfectly!"
And turning to Della, he proudly escorted her towards the exit, their friends following close behind.
THE END
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