The Case of the Deadly Scalpel
Chapter 11
1
Ben Stern looked around his jail cell. He was living a nightmare. What was he doing here? He didn't kill Corbin Schulte. How could he possibly be charged with his murder? Someone was framing him. The question was who, and why? Was there someone out there who hated him that much, or could it be whoever did it was just trying to avert suspicion from himself or herself.
He dedicated his life to helping people. Despite making a lot of money over the years, Ben didn't have much of a life outside of medicine. He spent eighteen hours a day working. On the weekends, he made rounds at the hospital. His dedication to his job cost him his marriage. He rarely saw his daughter or son. They complained that he never found the time to spend with them. They blamed him for their mother leaving him when they were still very young. Not one of them understood why he spent so much time at the hospital. Because of his job, his relationships suffered. It was a price he paid for wanting to help people.
Had he been wrong over the years? Should he have just run an eight hour a day clinic and returned home every night. No, Ben couldn't believe that. He paid a high price, but he knew he was an outstanding surgeon. He couldn't keep up with the demands for his services. People came from all over the United States to have him perform their spinal surgery. When he thought about all the people he helped and put back on their feet over the years, he knew the price he paid was worth it. He was destined to be a surgeon. It was all he ever wanted to be.
Years of schooling and internship began taking its toll on his marriage to Jane. He promised her it would only last until the internship was over. As his reputation grew, he was unable to keep that promise. Ben Stern was noted as one of the best in the country. To his dismay, he actually had to turn down patients. He couldn't possibly keep up with the demand.
Was this the thanks he got for giving up any kind of personal life? Stern couldn't remember the last time he took a vacation, yet he could remember the numerous times he canceled planned vacations with his family in order to do surgery on a patient when time was of the essence. They would not be walking today if he had gone on those vacations.
When his daughter had a baby, she begged him to be there. It was the one time he relented and left his patients in the hands of another surgeon. Tragedy struck while he was away. That was when Robert Ironside was struck down by an assassin's bullet. The result of that was he was confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. The surgeon who operated on his friend was nowhere near as skilled as Stern, and he knew it. In his defense, Ben never dreamed such an incident would occur. He simply left the overseeing of patients who already had their surgery to another doctor.
One of his biggest regrets was he hadn't been there for Bob Ironside. If he had been, could he have saved his ability to walk? He would never know. The surgeon who performed the surgery on him was not an expert in spinal issues. Ben was. Could the man have missed something or just plain wasn't skilled enough to handle the delicate surgery required to repair the damage to Ironside's spine?
When Bob Ironside began having leg pain a year or so later after recovery, Ben performed surgery on him, hoping to reverse the condition which condemned him to a wheelchair. His friend would have put off the surgery if it weren't for Ben's insistence he do so immediately. Still, Ben blamed himself for the failure of the surgery. Should he have insisted Bob enter the hospital that very day and have the surgery immediately as an emergency? Would it have made a difference? Would he have been able to give his friend the gift of walking again? He would never know because he didn't admit him immediately.
Robert Ironside never gave it a second thought. He didn't blame Ben. He went about his daily life, living life to the fullest. Now that Ben was in trouble, he was stepping up to help him. He brought in Perry Mason. There wasn't any criminal lawyer anywhere better than Mason. When it came to his defense, Ben knew he had the best. If anyone could get him out of this mess, it was Mason.
Who actually murdered Corbin Schulte? God only knew there was a line-up of people who hated the man. Schulte was a despicable character. He didn't care what he did to anyone, just as long as he got what he wanted. Ben cursed the day he agreed to do the surgery on him. He should have refused and let the chips fall where they may.
"Dad."
Stern turned to see his daughter standing in front of his cell door. Charlene's eyes were wet with tears. He smiled at the sight of her. He never thought either one of his children would support him. He certainly didn't deserve it. Walking over to the cell door, he put his hands through the bars, and she reached for him.
"I didn't do it, Charlene. You have to believe me. Someone is framing me. I have no idea why, other than I must have made it convenient for them."
"You don't have to explain yourself to me, Dad. I know you would never kill someone. You spent your life helping people."
"And what for? I lost your mother, Ben Jr and you."
"No, you haven't lost me, or Ben. He is flying in as we speak. He is taking the time off from his practice to be here."
"Practice?" Ben said, surprised. What kind of practice was she talking about?
She smiled. "You didn't know, did you? He's a surgeon, Dad, just like you. He specializes in spinal cord surgery."
"I haven't seen your brother in years, Charlene. The last time we were together . . . well, it wasn't pretty. We fought. He told me he never wanted to see me again."
She smiled sadly. "Sometimes it takes a tragedy to open one's eyes. He loves you, Dad. He left angry, and wanted to contact you. The problem was the longer he waited, the harder it became. He loves you enough that he decided to follow in your footsteps."
Ben said nothing for fear he couldn't control his emotions. He should have been the one to contact his son. He never should have allowed it to go this far. His son was a surgeon, and a spinal cord surgeon at that! What better tribute could Ben Jr have made to him.
"I assume Uncle Bob was the one who brought in Perry Mason," Charlene said.
"Yes, he called him away from a cruise he was on for vacation."
"Then we have the best there is both in and out of the courtroom."
Ben didn't want to talk about the trial. "How's my grandson?"
She beamed. "Kyle is doing fine. He wanted to come with me, but I thought it best he did not see you this way. We'll get together when this is all over, that is if you have the time."
"I'll find the time. I should have found the time over the years. I am sorry, Charlene. I have not been a very good father."
"That's not true. You were always there to give advice. You provided for your family. I have always understood why you wanted to help people. Even Ben understood. He is still kicking himself for fighting with you that day over something he actually agreed with. He just loved Mom, and was upset she left because of your job."
"I hope he finds time for Ben III, and doesn't make the same mistakes I did."
"He does, but he still feels okay with the way you handled things. He understands, Dad, he really does."
"When is his plane getting in?" Ben asked.
"In about two hours. I am picking him up at San Francisco International Airport."
"Tell him I would like to see him."
"He already plans on seeing you. That is why he is coming. I better get going." She squeezed his hand. "I love you, Dad. Don't you worry. Everything is going to be alright."
"I love you too. By the way, how did you get in here? The police don't allow visitors to come near the cells."
"Not usually, but there is nothing usual about Robert T Ironside," she said. She let go of his hand and left the cell.
Bob Ironside! He should have known. If he told the police guards to allow his daughter in, they wouldn't dare ignore him. Ben couldn't help but wonder if his daughter was right. Would everything be alright? Would Mason and Ironside find out who really killed Corbin Schulte?
2
Robert Ironside looked out the window of his specially equipped van. Mark offered to drive him. Ironside politely refused. He was meeting Katherine for lunch. Mark would have waited at the van to give them privacy. The chief could not see the need to have his aide drive him when he could do it himself. When he arrived at the restaurant, he parked the van, backed his chair onto the lift, and pressed the button. Once lowered to the ground, he wheeled into the restaurant. Looking around, he spotted Katherine at the corner table.
Ironside wheeled his chair around people and tables until he arrived at Katherine's table. Taking her hand, he kissed the back of it. "Hello, Katherine." He pushed a chair out of the way and settled his wheelchair next to her.
"Robert, it is so good to see you."
"I apologize, Katherine. Between the uprising in the prison and traveling to Georgia to help Ben Matlock, I have been neglecting you."
"You don't owe me an apology. I knew when I started seeing you what you do for a living. I also knew I would have to exercise patience when it came to your job. So, don't apologize."
Ironside smiled. "How could I get so lucky?" He reached for her hand and gave it a slight squeeze.
"I read about Ben Stern. You don't think he did it,do you?" Katherine asked.
"Not a chance. Ben has spent a lifetime protecting life and people. There is no way he would take one in cold blood."
"That's why you brought in your brother to defend him, isn't it?"
Ironside sighed. "Ben performed surgery on me in an attempt to reverse my spinal issue. I know he blames himself for it not working, but my problem was a loss cause from the time that rifle went off. I have never blamed him for the failure of the surgery. He's a dedicated surgeon who has given up much in his life to help people. Because of him, people like Ralph Fellows, who was in the hospital for surgery the same time I was, are back on their feet, walking again. My condition was always hopeless, but Ralph Fellows is walking again because of Ben. A man who does what Ben has done, would not end a life. I would bet my entire career on it."
"You may just be doing exactly that if he is proven to be guilty."
"He won't be. Perry and I will find the killer. Someone set Ben up, and he is not going to get away with it. We'll find him."
Katherine could see the determination in Robert's eyes. She didn't doubt he would. She just hoped it wouldn't be Ben Stern.
3
Perry Mason and Della Street arrived at the hospital. The lawyer received the go ahead to see the crime scene and get a look at Ben Stern's office. Mason stopped the vehicle his brother arranged for him to use for the duration of their stay in San Francisco. He shut off the engine, but didn't move. Della glanced over at him. She could see he was deep in thought. She knew exactly what he was thinking.
"Perry, every case we take on always looks this bad in the beginning. You have only started the investigation. Stop worrying; you'll figure it out."
Mason took her hand. "I have always said that you are my good luck charm. With you at my side there isn't anything I can't figure out. Let's go inside and see what we can find out." Exiting the vehicle, he walked around to the passenger side. He opened the door, took Della's hand, and guided her out of the vehicle. They entered the hospital and went directly to the desk.
The woman behind the desk looked up and smiled. "You're Perry Mason. I recognize you from your pictures in the paper. I suppose you are here to investigate the Dr Stern case. I heard you came from Los Angeles to defend him. Your brother is quite popular in this city."
Mason returned the smile. He didn't bother to correct her that he came from a cruise ship not Los Angeles. It was still a bit of a sore subject with him. "That's right. I would like to see your Chief Physician. I believe his name is . . ." Mason pulled a card out of his suit coat pocket. "Dr Peter Witt."
"Yes, his office is on the same floor as Dr Stern's office. She wrote Mason's name on a sticky label and one for Della. "Please put these on, and make sure they are displayed the entire time you are in the hospital."
Mason stuck the label to his suit coat, and Della put hers on her dress. Mason smiled again, thanked the woman, and led Della to the nearest elevator.
"What do you know about Peter Witt?" Della asked.
"Next to nothing. I know when Sister Agatha was attacked and had to have the pressure relieved on her brain, Bob would not let Witt do the surgery. There were murders going on at the hospital at the time, and Bob wanted an outside surgeon to perform the operation. I remember him telling me at the time, he didn't trust anyone at the hospital to do it."
The elevator opened. Perry and Della stepped out. Mason looked up at the signs. "This way, Della." They turned to the left. Witt's office was at the end of the hall. When they arrived, Mason opened the door and allowed Della to enter in front of him.
The secretary looked up. "Hello, Mr Mason. Dr Witt is expecting you." She picked up the phone receiver, punched the intercom, and said, "Doctor, Mr Mason has arrived." Smiling at the lawyer and his secretary, she announced, "You may go right in."
Taking Della's elbow, Mason led her into Witt's office. Witt stood up behind his desk, put out his hand. Mason shook it.
"This is indeed a pleasure, Mr Mason. I have followed your cases in the paper. What can I do for you?"
"I would like to see Dr Stern's office and the room where the murder took place," Mason told him
The doctor had a confused look on his face. "I can get you into Ben's office, but I am afraid you will not be able to enter the room where the murder took place."
Della looked at Perry. The look on his face told her he was not about to accept that. Mason pulled a paper out of his pocket. This gives me the right to examine the scene of the crime." He handed the paper to Dr Witt.
Witt looked over the paper. "It is not that I wouldn't let you examine the room, Mr Mason, but there is nothing for you to examine."
"And why is that?" Mason said, raising his voice.
"Because the room has been thoroughly clean since the murder took place. The police didn't tell us that we had to preserve the room."
"It has been what?" Mason nearly shouted.
"I am afraid because there was a murder in that room, I ordered it to be cleaned with . . . well you know . . . the strongest cleaning products we have. The room is again in use. It is currently occupied by a woman."
"You were supposed to tape off that room and not allow anyone inside," Mason said angrily.
"I am sorry, Mr Mason, but the police did not indicate to us that we were supposed to do so. At this point, I cannot allow you to disturb the patient who is in that room. She is a very sick woman."
"I don't give a damn what the police did or didn't tell you, you should have known that room was to be closed off until further notice. The defense has the right to go over the scene of the crime."
Witt was becoming defensive. "I am not the police or a lawyer. If they wanted the room closed off, they would have said so. Now, is there anything else?"
"I want the key to Ben Stern's office, or has that been thoroughly cleaned as well?"
"Well . . . that was uncalled for. Look, Mr Mason, I am sorry for the mix-up, but had I known they didn't want anyone in those two rooms, I would have closed them off to everyone."
"I will be calling you as a witness for the defense. You can explain to the court why you didn't close off those two rooms. Now, the key!" Mason put out his hand.
Peter Witt walked over to a steel box on the wall. Reaching into his pant's pocket, he pulled out a set of keys. After searching for the right key, he unlocked the box, removed a key and gave it to the attorney.
"Who else has a key to Dr Stern's office?" Mason asked.
"Dr Stern. There are only two keys."
"What about maintenance?" Mason questioned.
"They can only get into Dr Stern's office during office hours. They don't need a key."
"Does anyone have a key to that box?" Mason next asked, pointing at the steel box on the wall.
"There is another set. I keep them in the bottom desk drawer in the back," Witt answered.
"Is the desk drawer kept locked?"
Damn lawyer, Witt thought. He is treating me like I am on the stand. "No, there is no lock, but no one knows the key is there except me."
"When you leave your office, Dr Witt, do you lock the door?"
"Well no, I don't, but my secretary is always at her desk."
"Then it is a rule she is not to leave her desk if you are out of the office?"
"Of course there is no rule," Witt said, becoming irritated with Mason.
"Then, it is possible she could be called away?"
"Well . . . I suppose it is possible. You would have to ask her."
"I intend to," Mason said, sharply. "Let's go, Della. They stood up and headed for the door.
"Please return the key to my secretary if I am not in my office."
Mason turned around. "I will . . . if she is at her desk."
Mason was going to be a problem. The doctor was sure of that.
4
Paul Drake hated dealing with the mob. Every time he did, he was concerned they would come after him if they thought he was going to implicate them in a crime. Unfortunately, this was the assignment Ironside gave him, and because of Perry, he would check it out. He knew exactly where he would find Joey Mancino. According to Ironside, Mancino was the one who was in charge of providing prostitutes for the visiting mobsters. Paul was unsure exactly how Mancino was involved with Corbin Schulte's death. Did the mob boss in San Francisco have him whacked when Schulte didn't provide them? Paul thought that was extreme, but when it came to the mob, could anything really be considered extreme?
He walked into the pool hall on Eddy Street. Mancino bragged to everyone how good he was at playing pool. He had to be, at least to an extent. He collected a lot of money at the pool hall. Then again, maybe he was simply collecting debt owed to the mob. Who knew? Anyway, he played pool every day at this time of day.
Over in the corner, Joey Mancino was right where Paul was told he could find him. He just racked up another game and was making the break. After he broke, he began shooting. Paul stood back and watched. He was impressed by the number of shots he took and the number of balls he sunk. Some of them were very hard shots, yet Mancino managed to sink them.
Drake approached the table. He immediately caught the attention of the man playing pool with Joey. He lifted his chin toward Drake, indicating to Joey he had a visitor. Mancino stopped, looked at Drake. "You'll have to wait until I finish this game. Two-hundred-dollars up front." Mancino never saw the man before, but he looked like a patsy to him. He would be more than happy to take his money.
"I am not here to play pool, Mr Mancino. I am here for information regarding Corbin Schulte."
"You a cop?"
"I'm a private detective working for Perry Mason."
Mancino looked him up and down. "That's the big-shot attorney that is defending him." He went back to the table and took his next shot, sinking the ball.
"That's right."
"Well, you are wasting your time. I don't know Corbin Schulte or Ben Stern for that matter. So, unless you are here to play pool, this conversation is over."
Drake pulled a series of pictures out of his pocket while Mancino's back was to him. He spread them out in his hand so they were all visible. He walked over to the table and pushed them under the man's face. "For a man who doesn't know Schulte, you sure meet with him alot."
Mancino turned around. "You don't get it. It doesn't matter whether I know him or not, I am not talking to you, so get lost."
Reaching into his pocket, Drake pulled out a subpoena. It wasn't for Mancino, but he didn't know that. He waved it under Mancino's nose. "You can talk to me now, or I will serve you with this subpoena, and you can get on the stand as a witness for Perry Mason. When you lie your ass off, Mason can get you for perjury. The choice is yours."
The mobster looked over at the man he was playing pool with, and said, "Get lost for a few minutes." The guy shrugged his shoulders and left the pool table.
"What's the matter, Joey, you don't want a witness to this conversation?" Drake said.
"Go to hell, whoever you are."
"The name's Paul Drake. Are you going to talk to me, or do I hand you the subpoena?"
"Ask your damn questions and then get the hell out of here," Mancino snarled.
"You arrange for prostitutes for visiting mobsters . . ."
"I don't know what you are talking about."
'Yes, you do, Joey. Either answer me or you are going on the stand. I am pretty sure your boss wouldn't like that. In fact, he probably would take action to make sure you didn't go on the stand. You know what that means."
"Alright, alright. Yeah, I set up the girls."
"Did you set them up the day of Schulte's surgery?"
"No. Schulte didn't have very good control of the girls. None of them would cooperate. He contacted a certain party to provide adults, but she wouldn't provide them. Schulte would cheat her out of her cut and the women as well. She refused to do business with him."
"Where did you get the prostitutes from?" Drake asked.
"I didn't, and believe me, the boys weren't happy about it."
"Angry enough to kill Schulte?"
Joey smiled. "Now, Drake, you really don't expect me to point a finger at these guys, do you? You know exactly what would happen to me if I did."
"Yeah, I have a pretty good idea. Thanks, Mancino. You have been a big help. I won't tell your . . . shall we say, associates, that we had this little chat."
"Mason won't call me as a witness then?" Joey asked.
"I can't answer that. Mason does what he thinks is best for his clients."
"Wait just a damn minute, Drake! You said if I talked to you, I wouldn't have to answer questions in court," Mancino said, angrily.
"No, if you recall, I said you could answer my questions or I would serve you with a subpoena. Well, you answered my questions, and I am not going to serve you." Drake turned and left the pool hall.
"Damn it!" Joey Mancino shouted and slammed his pool stick down on the pool table, breaking it into two pieces.
4
Commissioner Randall's intercom sounded again. He sighed as he knew who it would be — another city council member insisting he reign in Bob Ironside. Hadn't they learned by now that nobody reigns in Robert T Ironside? Randall may be his boss, but he knew Bob did pretty much as he pleased. He also knew he would get away with it since he solved so many crimes and arrested more criminals than anyone in the department. Only when Randall put his foot down did Ironside back off, well . . . if one could call taking vacation time and investigating on his own time backing off. Ironside took so little vacation time that he had weeks upon weeks built up over the years.
Randall picked up the phone, "Yes, Betsy."
"The mayor is on the phone for you, Commissioner."
That couldn't be very bad. Most of the time Ted Barr sided with Ironside. He seemed to be the only one who realized the chief would do everything his way, and Barr agreed with his methods. Randall punched the line that was lit up and lifted the receiver. "Hello, Ted. You are probably calling about Bob Ironside."
Mayor Ted Barr laughed. "Is one of your talents reading minds through the telephone?"
"No, but it seems to be the only calls I am getting this morning," Randall answered. "So, what do you want me to do regarding Bob?"
There was a momentary silence on the other end before Barr said, "Absolutely nothing."
"What? I thought the city council was up in arms about him. They have been calling me all day."
"They are, but you know them, Dennis. They are always getting their panties in a wad."
Randall couldn't help it, he started laughing. Barr was the only one who realized Ironside's methods worked. "So then, what is this call about?"
"I want you to give Bob free reign."
"That is not difficult since he is going to do it regardless of what I order him to do."
"To satisfy the city council, go see him and tell him to stay out of it. When he refuses, just tell him he better be right."
"He almost always is," Randall said. "Lieutenant Reese is on the warpath. He even went to Chief Prentiss to get her to stop Bob."
"Bob outranks her, but just out of curiosity, what did Amy tell Reese?"
Randall chuckled. "She said she could do nothing, that Bob outranks her.
"In other words, she doesn't want anything to do with it," Barr chuckled.
"Exactly."
"Alright, Dennis, you know where I stand. If Ben Stern is guilty of murder, Bob is not going to let him get away with it, regardless of their friendship. However, I don't believe for a second he had anything to do with it."
"I don't either. It is the reason I haven't done anything to stop Bob. He will find out what really happened. Someone framed Stern."
"Okay, I just wanted to let you know I am on his side, and yours. Let things run their course."
"That's what we'll do. As usual, thanks for your support." Randall hung up the phone. He reached into his desk and pulled out some Tylenol. Robert Ironside was giving him a headache.
5
Perry Mason and Della Street headed back to his brother's office to join him. When they arrived, Ironside was just arriving back from his lunch with Katherine.
"I trust Katherine is doing well," Mason said.
"She is. How'd it go at the hospital?" Ironside asked.
Mason sat down at the table. "If you mean the crime scene, it didn't?"
"What the devil does that mean?" Ironside said.
"The room was cleaned and there is another patient in it," Mason informed his brother.
"What? Who the flaming hell authorized that?" Ironside roared.
"Dr Peter Witt. He claimed the police didn't tell him to lock up the room until the investigation is done."
"That's ridiculous. Witt knows better than that!" Ironside continued to roar.
"I am filing a complaint with your Police Department. I want to see if Carl Reese told them to consider it a crime scene and to keep everyone out until further notice."
Ironside defended Reese. "Carl is an excellent detective. I would bet a year's pay he told them to stay out of the room until the police were finished."
"I wouldn't bother," Perry said.
"What do you mean, you wouldn't bother. I know Carl. He would've told them to lock down that room," Ironside insisted.
"I wasn't talking about that?" Mason said.
"Then what the blazes are you talking about? Make sense. I have worked with Carl for years. He is a damn good detective. He wouldn't have forgotten something as important as that."
"I was talking about your bet. It isn't worth betting a year of your pay with what you make," Mason said with a grin.
"Shut up, Perry," Ironside growled.