The Case of the Deadly Scalpel
Chapter 7
1
Carly Williams finished writing her expose. There wasn't any doubt in her mind, it was the best thing she had ever written. She couldn't wait to tear the cover off the illicit affair of Perry Mason and Della Street. After all, it was exactly what the arrogant attorney deserved. Just because he was a big shot attorney, he thought he could push her around. Well, he had another thing coming. No one pushed her around. Just as soon as she turned the story into her editor, he would realize what a good investigative reporter she was. Then she would no longer be assigned fluff stories. She would be able to get the real stories, like a president murdering his wife. If only she had been covering that, President Whitmore wouldn't have gotten away with murder. Who was Mason and Ironside kidding? They covered up the real truth. Whitmore murdered his wife!
She never would have looked the other way. Carly would have exposed Ironside and Mason for what they did, and that was covering up a murder the president was actually guilty of. The more she thought about it, the more she wondered why she would have been willing to write a positive story about Mason and his secretary. He didn't deserve it. He was nothing more than a sleazy, two-bit lawyer. Weren't they all crooks; out to get every dime they could swindle out of poor folks who couldn't really afford them. And if Mason charged the fees she was told he charged, he was worse than all of them. Not only did he literally steal money from his clients, he represented the worst of the worst. Murderers! Just how many murderers did he get off from crimes they committed? She bet it was most of the ones he defended.
Mason was in for a big surprise! This would not be the last story she wrote about him. She was going to pull the mask off that goody two-shoe. She would show him that no big shot lawyer was going to push her around.
It was time she taught the arrogant lawyer a lesson. He and his secretary would no longer be able to hide their relationship. She would see to that. Carly didn't depend on her phone to transfer her work to the newspaper. Although cellular connections improved over the years, there weren't any towers out in the middle of the ocean and the captain confiscated her phone. Her computer had a satellite hookup. Mason couldn't do anything about that.
Carly sat down at the desk, prepared to send the article to the Los Angeles Times.There was a knock on her door.
If that was Mason, he wasn't going to stop her this time. She pressed the send button and the article was off to the newspaper. She stood up and walked over to the door. Upon opening it, the captain was standing there.
"Well, hello, Captain. I suppose Mason sent you."
He forced his way into her cabin and shut the door. "Actually, he did not. However, a member of our staff overheard Mr Mason and Miss Street talking. You were in their cabin. You had no business whatsoever there. I warned you that if you didn't leave them alone, I would be putting you off at the next port. Since you didn't bother to heed my warning, you are off my ship when we dock."
"You can't do that! I paid for this cruise. I'm not going anywhere," she shouted.
"I'm afraid you will have no choice. You will either leave my ship, or you will spend the rest of the cruise in the brig, where I know you will be unable to pester Mr Mason or his secretary again."
"Then you might as well throw me in the brig. Because I am not getting off this ship. I can't afford to purchase a ticket to fly home."
Captain Reagan walked back to the door. He opened it and motioned for two of the ship's employees to come into the room. "You are to escort this young lady to the brig. She will be spending the rest of the cruise there. See to it that she is well taken care of."
"You can't do this!" Carly shouted.
"Miss Williams, I have warned you not to stalk Mr Mason and Miss Street. You have ignored my warnings. For your information, when we are out at sea, I am as good as God. I can place you in the brig and will do so. You will not disrupt this cruise any longer. Take her away."
"I'll sue your ass!!" Carly attempted to fight off the employees as each one took her by her arms. It was to no avail, since they were both men, and her strength was no match for theirs. They dragged her from the cabin as she fought them every step of the way.
The captain called another employee inside. "Clean this room thoroughly. Collect all of her belongings and lock them in a locker. I'll take the computer with me."
"Yes, sir."
He shook his head, collected the computer, and left her cabin. For all the attention Perry Mason was getting, one would think he was a major movie star. Nevertheless, he would not allow Mason to be harassed. He paid his money like everyone else and was entitled to his privacy while aboard. He had enough to deal with the cast and crew of the Love Boat aboard without having to deal with Carly Williams. Captain Reagan would have preferred putting her off at the next port, and he supposed he could have gone ahead and done so against her will. Yet, he did have compassion. He didn't want to leave her halfway around the world with no way to return to the United States. The brig was the next best thing, and there she would stay for the remainder of the cruise.
2
With his feet up on his desk, Lieutenant Carl Reese sat eating an egg McMuffin and hash browns from McDonald's. His caseload was so heavy that Carl was having his breakfast, lunch, and quite often dinner delivered to his office.
Murders in the city seem to be up lately. Of course, the chief of detectives demanded everyone put in overtime to solve the cases on their desks. Carl was one of the top detectives in the homicide division. Therefore, many more cases were dumped on him then on other detectives.
Lately, he'd been working 18 hours a day on his caseload. He didn't know how much longer he could keep up the pace. At home, his wife was beginning to complain. Despite the fact that he couldn't blame her, he didn't have any choice. Everybody in the department was working overtime.
He looked up at the sound of a knock on his door. Waving the young detective in, Carl had a premonition he was about to have another case thrown his way.
"Lieutenant, we got a call. Since you are a friend of the Chief's, I thought you might want to be in on this one."
"Are you talking about Amy Prentiss?"
The detective laughed. "She may be the chief of detectives, but we all know who the real boss is. I'm talking about Chief Ironside."
Carl couldn't argue with that. Everybody knew that Ironside was really the one in charge of not only the detectives but of the entire police department. Even Chief Prentice followed Ironside's orders. "Just who is this friend of the chief's?"
"Dr Ben Stern. I am sure you recognize that name."
Reese did indeed recognize the name. "He's the surgeon that did the surgery on the chief when it looked like he might be able to walk again. Now, just why would I want to get involved with this? This is the Homicide Department."
"That's right, and there has been a homicide."
Reese didn't care where this conversation was going. "Just who is murdered?"
"Corbin Schulte."
"I know that name. Just exactly what does this have to do with Ben Stern?" Reese asked.
"Stern did surgery on Schulte earlier today."
"I don't find that unusual. After all, he is a surgeon. I still don't see what Ben Stern has to do with this murder, or why you think I would be interested. Let one of the other guys handle it. I have a caseload I cannot keep up with now."
The door to Reese's office opened and another detective walked in. Lieutenant, Chief Prentice wants you over to St Mary's Hospital. There has been a murder, and she wants you to handle it."
Carl sighed. Just what he needed, another murder case to solve. "Why in the world do I have to do it? Prentice knows how much I have on my plate right now. Can't one of the other guys handle it."
"Not as far as Prentice is concerned. She knows sooner or later Ironside is going to find out about it. Therefore, she wants one of his boys on it. That means you. She wants his office to stay out of it."
"If Ben Stern is involved in any way, fat chance Ironside will stay out of it," Carl said.
The detective grinned at him. "Well, that's what you get for being one of Ironside's golden boys."
Carl was well aware that several of the detectives in the department were a bit jealous of him. Whenever Chief Ironside needed extra help in his office, Carl was always the first one he called upon. He had tremendous respect for Ironside, but working for him was no picnic. The man couldn't tell time, at least it seemed that way. He worked his people non-stop until he solved the case.
None of it made any difference. Chief Prentice assigned him the case, so he had no choice but to go over to the hospital and start an investigation into the murder of Corbin Schulte. If there was one thing Carl hated, it was being forced to investigate the murder of somebody he considered a scumbag. Corbin Schulte was exactly that. Despite the fact the police had been unable to prove it, everyone knew he was pimping out teenage girls. As far as Carl was concerned, the man got what he deserved. Why put somebody behind jail that took the man out. They should be given a metal instead. He knew he really didn't believe that, but he hated investigating the murder of people like Corbin Schulte.
Reese picked up the phone and called Chief Ironside's office. After informing him, he grabbed his suit coat jacket off the back of his chair, Carl Left the office for the hospital. When he arrived, he parked his car and went inside. After asking for Corbin Schulte's room, he headed directly there. Uniformed police officers were already on the job keeping everyone from the crime scene. Reese spotted Officer Duffy and walked over to him. "What have we got, Duffy?"
"Corbin Schulte had spinal surgery earlier today. He was moved back to his room when he was released from the recovery room. His nurse came in to check on him and found him with a scalpel in his chest."
Reese nodded. This was not going to be an easy case and he knew it. Schulte was such a despicable character, the list of those wanting him dead was going to be long. He wondered if it would even be possible to solve the murder. Furthermore, was he really worth the time and effort? The city of San Francisco was better off with him dead. Unfortunately, the law wouldn't see it that way, not that he really did either. He just hated wasting his time on someone like Schulte. Let some other officer handle it. Why did he get the call?
"Who did the surgery on him?" Reese asked.
"Dr Ben Stern, but I thought you already knew that."
"I did. It never hurts to confirm facts," Reese told him. "You said the nurse found him?"
"That's right."
"Okay, find the nurse and bring her here." Carl looked down the hall. Robert Ironside was wheeling his chair toward him. "Hello, Chief. I didn't figure you could stay out of this one."
"You said he was stabbed with a scalpel?"
Reese confirmed, "Yes, sir."
"Well, we're not going to learn anything out here." He grabbed both sides of the door frame and pulled his wheelchair into Schulte's room. Ironside wheeled over to the side of the bed. "How long had he been out of recovery?"
"I don't know yet. I just got here myself. I sent Duffy after the nurse that found him," Reese answered.
Ironside checked the wound. "He was stabbed directly in the heart. He probably died instantly. Carl, I want the autopsy done immediately. And don't let our esteemed medical examiner argue his way out of it. And find Ben Stern."
"I'm right here, Bob." Dr Stern walked into the room. He looked over at his patient in disbelief.
"How long was he out of recovery?" Ironside asked.
"Not very long. In fact, it couldn't have been more than fifteen or twenty minutes."
"So, he probably was still under the influence of the drug you used to knock him out."
"That is a logical assumption," Stern said.
"We don't assume, Ben. I need facts," Ironside said.
"He would still have been under the drug's influence," Stern confirmed.
"Any visitors before his surgery?" Lieutenant Reese asked. He had been assigned the case. He had known the chief would show up and pretty much take over, despite it being his case. Reese didn't care. He didn't want it anyway.
"Not that I know of. His wife was here, but I don't think she went in to see him. She told me they were on the outs lately."
"Are we sure she didn't go into his room?" Ironside asked. The couple being on the outs threw up a red flag to Ironside.
"No, I can't be positive," Stern answered. "I only know she was here before the surgery. I can't confirm whether she went into the room before or after the surgery."
Ironside looked around. He spotted the man he was looking for. "Duffy!"
Officer Duffy headed straight for the boss. "Yes, Chief."
"Did you find the nurse who discovered Schulte?"
"Yes, sir. She is on rounds. She will be here in a few minutes," the officer informed him.
"Alright. Find out if Mrs Schulte is still in the hospital."
Duffy nodded and left immediately.
"Carl, I want this floor cut off. No one leaves."
"It's already been done, Chief. However, the killer could …"
"Have already left the floor," Ironside said with a wave of his hand. "I want a list of everyone who was on this floor at the time Schulte was brought back to his room. Start questioning everyone. Find out who entered his room after he was brought back from recovery."
"Chief, do you want this case?"
"No, it's your case, Carl. I am only here because of Ben."
"Then you saw it too." Reese looked over at the dead body.
"It's a bit hard to miss," Ironside said. The gold scalpel had the initials BWS on it. He looked at Stern who was on the other side of the room, giving the two detectives privacy.
"It doesn't look good." Reese said.
"You don't know that, Carl. We need more facts to make that determination."
Nurse Jill Gilbert walked into the room. "Chief Ironside, I was told you wanted to see me."
The detective turned his attention to her. "You were the one who found Corbin Schulte?"
"Yes, sir. I was."
"You found him just as he is right now?"
She nodded to confirm. "I was on my rounds and I stopped in to check on him. He was just like you see him right now."
"Did you see anyone in or around the room?" Lieutenant Reese asked.
Turning her attention to the veteran detective, she shook her head. "There wasn't anyone around when I came to the room. I can't account for the time I was away, though."
Ironside noticed she was fidgeting. "You seem nervous. Is there a reason?"
"Well, I have never been questioned by the police before." She kept glancing back at Ben Stern.
Reese noticed it too. He respected Ironside, but Ben Stern was a close friend, and the surgeon who did the surgery on him in hopes that he would walk again. Since it was his case, and his suspicions were now raising the hair on the back of his neck, he decided to intervene. "Is there another reason? What are you not telling us?"
"Well, Dr Stern was in here before the surgery. He and Mr Schulte were arguing."
"What about?" Carl asked.
"Dr Stern didn't want to do the surgery, but Mr Shulte threatened to reveal something about him?"
"What?" Reese asked.
"I don't know, it wasn't mentioned."
"Is that all?" Reese asked before Ironside could say anything.
She looked over at Dr Stern. Reese, becoming impatient, looked her in the eye. "You aren't telling us everything you know. This is a murder, Miss. If there is something else, you need to tell us. Holding back information could result in being charged with interfering with the investigation."
Ironside looked at Carl. He knew where he was going with his aggressive questioning, and he didn't like it, even though he understood it.
"Dr Stern told him the chances of success were next to nothing, that he had waited too long to have the surgery. Mr Schulte insisted he hadn't waited too long and if Dr Stern botched it, it was because he didn't want to do it. He told him if he was unable to walk afterwards, he would destroy the doctor."
That was all Reese needed to hear. He turned to the forensic team. "Do not put any fingerprints on that scalpel or smudge any that might be on it."
"Carl …" Ironside said before Reese interrupted him.
"I know what you are going to say, Chief, but you have to look at all the evidence, and it was you that taught me that to begin with." He turned to Stern and said, "Doctor, where were you after you completed the surgery?"
Ben looked confused and shocked at the question. "You can't possibly think I had anything to do with this?"
"Just answer his question, Ben," Ironside said. He didn't want to appear biased in favor of his friend. He didn't like it, even knowing Carl had good reason to ask.
"I left the hospital and went outside."
"Why would you do that?" Reese asked.
Stern rubbed the back of his neck. He was developing a headache. "To get some air. That's all."
"Can anyone confirm that?" the lieutenant demanded.
"I don't know. I didn't pay much attention to my surroundings. It was a long surgery." Stern looked over at Ironside. He couldn't believe his friend of many years could think he had anything to do with Corbin Schulte's death.
Reese walked over to the body. "Can you explain this?"
Stern joined Reese next to the body of Corbin Schulte. When he saw what Reese was referring to, he turned pale.
"Is that your scalpel, Dr Stern?" Reese asked.
Upset and shocked to see his scalpel protruding out of Schulte's chest, Stern looked at Ironside. "Bob, I don't know how it got here?"
"Is it your scalpel, Doctor? Reese demanded.
Seeing how shaken his friend was, Ironside answered for him. "I gave Ben that scalpel after the surgery he performed on me. It was a gift for attempting to help me walk again. I had his initials engraved on it. It was concealed in a glass covered box."
"Where was the box?" Reese asked.
"In my office. It was on the shelf behind my desk?" Stern said.
"Ben," Ironside interjected, "when was the last time you saw it?"
"I don't remember. You know how it is, Bob. You put something on a shelf and it becomes part of the room. You don't think about it." Stern stared at the lifeless body of Corbin Schulte.
"Do you keep your office locked?" Ironside asked.
"No, I have never had to. Nobody has ever bothered it before." Stern noticed the skeptical look on the detective lieutenant's face. He could tell he didn't believe him.
"Let's go to your office now." Ironside wheeled toward the door. Looking over his shoulder, he called out to Reese. "That alright with you, Carl?"
Reese nodded. "Sure, Chief. Let me know what you find."
Ironside and Stern left Schulte's room. They took the elevator to Stern's hospital office. When they arrived, Ben reached for the door knob. When he attempted to turn it, it didn't move. He looked back at his detective friend.
"What's the matter, Ben?"
"It's locked."
The chief wheeled closer to the door. After inspecting it, he asked, "Is that a deadbolt lock?
"Yes."
"Who has a key to your office?"
"No one. There is a spare key. It is locked in the head of the hospital's office. He keeps that and other important keys locked up. As far as I know he is the only one with a key to this office besides me."
"Open the office, Ben," Ironside said.
Stern reached into his pocket and pulled his keys out. After unlocking the door, he opened it and allowed Ironside to wheel his chair ahead of him. Ironside wheeled over to the shelf behind the desk. The glass cover case was there, only it was empty. "Did you keep this case locked?"
"Yes, and before you ask, I am the only one with a key," Stern told him.
Ironside reached into his suit coat and pulled out a clean handkerchief. He handed it to Ben Stern. "Hand me that case, and make sure you only pick it up by the edges. There may be fingerprints on it that will identify who tampered with it."
Feeling a bit relieved by the chief's statement, Ben looked at him, trying to read his expression. He could not. Ironside held his poker face. "Then you believe me that I didn't have anything to do with Corbin Schulte's murder?"
"I believe you, Ben, but I am not going to sugar coat it. This looks bad. He was stabbed with your scalpel, which was behind a lock door and in a lock case. You were being blackmailed by Schulte, who threatened to reveal something you obviously didn't want known. So much so, you did surgery on a man when you knew it was hopeless. If there are no prints other than your own on the scalpel and that box, you could be facing a murder wrap."
"Dear God! Bob, I didn't do it!"
"Let's wait and see what Carl Reese does before we panic. Now carefully, lift the case down and set it in my lap."
Stern did as Ironside requested, and the two men left the office. Ironside instructed him to lock the office door. They returned to Schulte's room. The forensic team was finishing up and Schulte's body had been removed. Lieutenant Reese was instructing hospital personnel to lock the room and not allow anyone in it until further notice.
"Carl, is Dr Stern free to resume his duties?" Ironside asked.
Carl looked at the glass cover box in the chief's lap. "What's that?
"It is the box Dr Stern keeps the scalpel in. We went to his office to retrieve it. I instructed him to lock the office. You'll want to go over it for possible fingerprints of the killer. I took care to make sure no additional prints could be added to the box. It was on the shelf behind the desk."
"Was the office locked?" Carl asked. He ordered Duffy to put the box in an evidence bag and take it away along with the scalpel.
"It was," Ironside said. The box was also kept locked." Ironside told him who had the keys to Stern's office.
Carl looked at Stern. "Doctor, were you being blackmailed by Corbin Schulte?"
Ironside was already certain that was the case. He wasn't about to allow Ben to admit it to Carl Reese though. It gave him motivation. He already had opportunity, and the murder weapon was his. "Don't answer that, Ben. I suggest you obtain legal counsel and allow your attorney to decide what you can and can't answer."
Carl couldn't believe it. Robert Ironside was a law officer! He shouldn't be suggesting an attorney. Stern was not charged with anything yet. "It would be better if you talked to me," he told Stern.
"I have told you all I know. I have nothing further to say." If Bob Ironside didn't think he should say anything further, he wasn't about too.
Frustrated with Ironside, he told Ben Stern not to leave town and to make himself available to the police. There being nothing else to do, he turned to leave.
"Carl!" Ironside called out. "What about Sherry Corbin?"
"Duffy was unable to find her. She must have left the hospital.
"Bob, do I really need an attorney?" Stern asked.
"Yes, and I have one in mind, and do not talk to the police without an attorney present."
3
Perry and Della enjoyed an early morning swim. They hadn't seen Carly Williams all day. That didn't mean they had seen the last of her. Mason was sure of that. In fact, he figured she would attempt to write and turn over a trashy article to her editor. Would the editor have the good sense not to print it? That was a question Mason didn't yet know the answer to. There were a lot of newspapers out there which employed editors who didn't have much in the way of scruples. He wasn't going to depend on the editor at the Los Angeles Times. He would contact him personally and threaten a lawsuit. Actually, he wouldn't file it. It would only bring more attention to him and Della. Quite often when Mason threatened, it would be enough to get people to back off. He was known as the attorney that never loses, and it was sometimes enough to scare people off.
He wanted so much to make this a very memorable cruise for Della. She deserved it. She worked long hours with him, and they rarely were able to take a vacation. Even when they did, they were rarely left alone to enjoy it. Murder would rear its ugly head and the vacation would come to an abrupt end.
Della stepped out of the pool and began to towel dry. Mason followed suit when he noticed the captain headed their way. He wondered if the man ever slept. He was still in full uniform and it was 3:00 in the morning. "Good morning, Captain. You certainly are up early."
"I have not gone to bed yet. I'll get some sleep and let my second in command steer the ship for a while. We should soon be in port."
"We are looking forward to it. Perry and I want to do some shopping and have lunch at a nice restaurant," Della said with a smile.
"What has kept you up?" Mason asked.
"Well frankly … you have, or at least indirectly."
Mason had a feeling Carly Williams was causing trouble again. "It wouldn't have something to do with our Los Angeles reporter, would it?"
Captain Reagan removed his cap and scratched his head before putting it back on. "I am afraid so, Mr Mason."
"What is she up to this time?" Della asked.
"One of my employees overheard the two of you talking about her harassing you again. I gave her the option of being put off at the next port or spending the rest of the cruise in the brig."
"I would imagine with what it would cost her to fly home from there, she chose the brig," Mason surmised.
"You are correct, and that is where she will stay until we return to Los Angeles. I just wanted to let you know you will be able to enjoy the rest of your cruise with no further harassment."
"Well, that is certainly a relief," Della exclaimed.
The man who was in charge of sending and receiving the ship's messages headed straight for them. Mason sure hoped he was looking for the captain. Unfortunately, he wasn't.
"Captain, there is an urgent message for Mr Mason."
"I suggest you give it to him then," the captain said.
He handed the message to the lawyer. Mason opened it and had to refrain from rolling his eyes. He couldn't believe his brother hunted him down. He handed the message to Della, who read it. He could see by the look on her face, she wasn't happy.
"I hope it isn't something serious," the captain said as his man turned and left them.
"It's my brother. He wants me to contact him immediately."
"We have a satellite phone, if you would like to call him," Reagan offered.
"No, I am not going to call him. He has to know we are on vacation. I'll contact him when we get back to the states," Mason said.
Della was shaking her head. "You can't do that, Perry. It says the message is urgent. There might be something seriously wrong. You need to call Robert and find out what it is."
"Della, we are on vacation. What is urgent to Bob is quite often not so urgent."
"But what if it is? You could regret not calling him," she suggested.
Mason sighed. "Alright, we'll call him."
The captain put out his hand, gesturing for them to follow. "I will take you to where you can make the call."
Mason toweled off. He and Della followed the captain. When they reached the room, the captain picked up the receiver and handed it to Perry Mason. The lawyer made the call to San Francisco.
"Chief Ironside's office," Eve Whitfield greeted.
"Eve, Bob called me. Is he in?" Mason asked.
"Yes, Perry. He has been expecting your call."
Mason waited for his brother to come on the line.
"Why didn't you tell me you were going on a cruise? I had a hell of a time getting your receptionist to tell me where the devil you are," Ironside said in a boisterous voice.
"Because I wanted to take an uninterrupted vacation. Now, just what is so urgent, it couldn't wait until we returned home. And it better be urgent."
"You need to come to San Francisco right away!"